Hey guys! This is my first fan fiction, it's kind of bad but whatever I like it. It's Clopin and Esmeralda, as cousins in modern times. Ok so it's in Clopin's point of view, and the French is in italics. I have translations at the bottom. Sorry if my French isn't too good, I used Google translate. This is meant to be a one shot but I might continue, depending on the reviews. Ok so from what I've read things like this tend to get people pretty fired up. I don't mean to offend anyone at all. And I think that's it. So yeah tell me what you think and if you think I should continue the story or not.

XOXOXO—pinkky

NOTE—rated T for a reason—drugs and suggestive content

DISCLAIMER- no I do not own Esmeralda or Clopin…

Clopin Trouillefou was a man with simple needs. As long as he had a roof over his head, food to eat, clothes to wear, and a woman waiting by the phone for his call that would most likely never come, he was happy. He lay there, on his back, thinking of this. Earlier this morning, he had stumbled in roughly about 3:00 am, drunk of course, and still grinning with the satisfaction of a one night stand. Now at about 10:00am, he lay in his bed trying to remember the girl's name. Was it Molly? No, Melissa, or Monica. Defiantly something with an M. he pondered this for about 15 minutes until finally giving up. 'Ah well,' he thought to himself, 'at least I didn't give her my phone number.' He smirked stupidly thinking of his cleverness. He had always hated when he gave a one night stand his phone number, and then later having to explain that a one night stand only lasted one night. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rapping on the door. Lazily he walked across the apartment from the tiny room he called his bed room to the door, which was not a long walk. Clopin lived in what he, and everyone else that had eyes, called a 'shit hole', which had never bothered him too much. He grew up in a place much like the one where he lived now, dark, vandalized, and not the side of town where you see happy suburban families. In his teenage years, Clopin thought he could be a gangster, even forming a gang with his friends. They called themselves, the miracle workers. They hadn't been very gangly at all though, more like a band, walking the streets after dark and doing street performances to earn a buck or two. It had been enough. The miracle workers were now strictly street performers, playing live music, performing acrobatics or magic show, whatever they could to earn a little more money on the side. One could blame womanizing ways on his messy history. His father had walked out when he was only 12, his mother had resorted to alcohol, and his sister responded by getting pregnant at 15. But he couldn't complain, almost everyone he knew had a past as screwy as his. As Clopin walked towards the door at a pace so slow, an old man with a walker would have appeared to be a race car next to, the rapping got louder. "Clopin! I know you're home! Anne told me on my way in!" A woman's voice called obviously irritated. Clopin groaned recognizing the voice, but immediately quickened the pace. He opened the door to reveal a beautiful young woman with copper skin, raven black curly hair, and a pair of large emerald eyes. Esmeralda. "Esme why are you here?" He sighed leaning against the door frame. She grimaced as she looked at him up and down. He stood up straight, 6'1" with lean muscle wearing nothing but a purple tee-shirt and boxers. His chin length black hair was a mess and he smelled of booze. "Good morning sunshine" she grumbled as she ducked into his messy apartment dragging her goat, Djali, behind her. "Esme?" he said again. "I just wanted to say hello to my favorite cousin." She smiled sweetly shrugging. He scoffed slightly and closed the door to join her on the couch were she was perched. "Mon Cherie," He smiled at her fakeness, "care to tell me why you're really here?" Though it was not always convenient for her, Clopin knew his little cousin well, possibly better than anyone else, which was how he knew that she had come for a reason. "Well, Mon Ami" she addressed him in French as he had addressed her. They were both fluent in the langue, having her father, his sister and his sister's husband, Clopin's mother and father, coming straight from France. Clopin actually had to thank his father for his fluency. He remembered all those nights where he and his sister had stayed up and listened to their parents fight in French. Esmeralda folded her hands on her lap and looked down embarrassed "I need some advice." "Je vois." Clopin smiled leaning back. Esmeralda always came to him when she had boy trouble and he loved it. That way he could dictate who little Esme dated and who she kicked to the curb. After all who knew better than an older cousin, Non? "Who is it this time? Peter? Eric? Tom? Harry? Freddie? Will?" Clopin said listing the names of all the men Esmeralda had talked about in the past. He found it exceedingly funny how he remembered every boy Esmeralda has ever dated or like, and he cannot remember the name of the girl that he had been with only yesterday. She shook her head. "Non. Someone new."Secretly he hoped that she would wake up and date one of Clopin's friends, one of the miracle workers. Though they were all around the same age as Clopin, about 6 or 7 years older than her, he trusted them with her. He knew that they would treat her right, not pressure her to do anything, be faithful, and never purposely inflict heart ache upon their petite fille. John, one of Clopin's closest friends had been showing a little bit of interest, and it would have thrilled him if this was who Esmeralda wanted to talk about. "Go on, plus Cher" Clopin said gleefully, being fully awake now. " well, I was at convenience store, you know, Pierre's, I was going to pick up some ice cream because Marie was coming over later to watch a movie-" " Esme, you're ranting. Get to the point." Clopin said bluntly, suddenly finding himself wishing he had a beer. "Oh. Well I met someone. His name is Phoebus." She gushed. "Phoebus" Clopin mumbled. It didn't sound familiar. "We talked for an hour outside the store. He's great. And he asked me out." She grinned leaning back on the couch. "Fantastique! If he's so merveilleux, I must meet him!" Clopin beamed. "No!" Esmeralda practically shouted. "Non Clopin. He's… you and him… I don't think… I don't think you'll like him." She said stammered sheepishly. "Nonsense, Ma Cher, I like everyone." He said smirking. " well, clo…the thing is… Le probleme est… he's a… he's a cop." She stumbled over her words. He stared at her in shock. " I told you, you wouldn't like him." She laughed a fake and nervous laugh. "and you wanted my permission to say yes? Oui?" he spoke quietly and slowly, still in shock. "no, not your permission, I don't need your permission, I'm 20 fucking years old, I don't need your permission." She protested "I wanted your… oui. Your permission." She hung her head down in defeat. "No." Clopin said crisply looking her straight in the eye. "No you cannot go out with a cop. Esmeralda, I don't know if you've noticed but you are Romani. You live on the west side of town. you do not tango with the law man." "But-" "I said no. you asked my permission." Clopin was usually calm. Usually he had a temper like a bull, and the fact that his favorite little cousin liked a cop should have sent him into a rage, but he was so unusually calm. So calm in fact, even he noticed. He concluded that his drunkenness must have not worn off since last night, Esme had always said that he became a little Buddha when he was drunk. " you don't understand. Phoebus is different." She whined as if she were 8 years old. "Different?" this cause Clopin to laugh out loud. " Different? How can he be different? He's a cop! How would you like your little friend Phoebus to find out about those times where you snuck out back to smoke pot with Louie?" After saying this Clopin regretted it. He saw the anger swell in Esmeralda who was clenching her fists. " You're just worried about yourself. How would you like my future boyfriend to find out that a handful of your friends, you're little miracle workers, they sell drugs on the side? How would you like him to find out that you've bought from Louie a couple times?" She Shouted. This should have intimidated Clopin, but it didn't. " How would you like him to find out that you've bought from Louie, but you didn't pay him with money." Esmeralda blushed, embarrassed, she had hoped he didn't remember that. " Mon Cherie, " he cooed softly now in French. " you know it's better for all of us if you stay away from this Phoebus." " Non, Je refuse." "Esmeralda." He growled." If you only were to meet him." She sighed. Clopin rolled his eyes. This was not a battle he was going to win, even if it was important. "Fine. You can go." He grumbled. "Bien!" She cried. "but I will come with you on this date." "Pour quoi?" She whined. "because I know what's best. And I have an excellent judge of character. And it's either that or you're not going." Clopin said pompously. She groaned. During this whole argument, the goat Djali had been munching away on some paper napkins that had been dropped on the floor. Clopin glanced at her and disregarded it. "Now what does one wear to ruin a cop's date by being the 3rd wheel?" He smiled devilishly and stroked his goatee in a thoughtful manner. Esmeralda stood up promptly and grabbed the leash of Djali. " it's at that little coffee shop down town, the one with the yellow umbrellas, at 1:00 pm. That's in two hours. If you are coming, don't be late. Wear something… not embarrassing." She said on her way out the door. Clopin closed the door behind her. This cop was going to wish he had never met the pretty girl with the devil as a cousin. He picked up his cell phone and punched in some numbers. "hey Louie? It's Clopin. Bring over some stuff. I got a need for weed." He chuckled darkly.

French translations—

Mon Cherie—Darling

Je vois—I see

Mon Ami—my friend

Non—No

petite fille—little girl

plus Cher—Dearest

Fantastique—fantastic

Merveilleux—Wonderful

Ma Cher—my dear

Le probleme est—the problem is

Oui—Yes

Je refuse- I refuse

Bien—good

Pour quoi—why

Sorry if my French isn't right, I used Google translate. I think it's alright, but I don't know. Rate and review

XOXO-- pinkky