Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Klavier awoke, Apollo was still next to him; curled up in a foetal position and fast asleep on top of the covers with his waistcoat still buttoned up. His mouth lay slightly ajar, his breathing shallow and quiet. In short, Apollo looked very cute.

The sky had turned from morning mistiness to afternoon brightness through the thin veil of curtain in Klavier’s room, and he looked to the side table, fishing for his alarm clock. 2:38 P.M. Klavier’s stomach growled as he read the time, and he turned back to Apollo – it would be a shame to wake Sleeping Beauty, but he needed to eat, too, and Klavier had no clue what Apollo liked to even make an attempt at guessing.

A heavy shake woke him from his gentle slumber, the man sitting up with eyes still jammed shut and stretching his arms up in the air with a wide yawn before stopping in his tracks, probably at the exact moment that he realised where he was. “Shit,” he stammered before blinking his eyes open, scratching at his hair (which had miraculously stayed in all of its gelled glory) and swinging his legs off the mattress. “What time is it?”

“It’s lunchtime. Do you want something to eat?” Klavier asked, dubious of Apollo’s reply.
That wasn’t a weird thing to ask, he told himself. Apollo and Klavier were good friends – it was impossible for them to not have been, after going through so much together. They had spent time together outside the courtroom; too, it’s just that those events usually included Trucy in them.

“Nah, that’s okay. Sorry for staying so long, or whatever.” He was incredibly awkward – seemingly embarrassed from falling asleep, and he stood up, brushing himself off.

“Well, I just woke up myself. Besides, you have already gone far beyond what is your duty as a friend to take care of me while I am in a rough patch; the least I can do is repay the favour by ordering us some take-out to eat, unless of course you have a prior engagement.” Klavier threw the sheets from his body, unbuttoning his pyjama shirt and throwing it on the bed. It was far too warm for this many items of clothing – Klavier wasn’t sure that he even owned day shirts that thick.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Apollo appeared to be considering it. “Fine; whatever. I guess I should make sure that you eat something, anyways.” Hearing him speak with so many fillers was somewhat jarring, and Klavier realised that it was because Apollo was still waking up from his nap that he wasn’t nearly as eloquent as usual. He still tried to appear alert, though, standing up straight and blinking his eyes open. This is just too cruel; Klavier thought towards whichever gods there may be around, hoping desperately for some kind of mercy at the same time that he accepted he was getting none.

Klavier led the way out of the room; the lights from downstairs still on, and swiped his laptop from the side table once they entered the living room. Slumping onto the couch, he watched as Apollo awkwardly dithered in the middle of the room, unsure of social etiquette in this situation. Klavier pointedly looked over at him and gestured to the spot beside him with a sharp flick of his head, and Apollo sat on the far end of the couch.

“So, what do you like? Fake Chinese food, fake Italian food, fake Japanese food – any processed garbage you want is available to us.” Klavier grinned easily, and Apollo relaxed a little bit, smiling back.

“Hmm… I suppose I could go for pizza right about now.” Apollo rested his arm against the side of the couch where Klavier wasn’t sitting, and leaned back into the cushioning.

“Good choice.” Klavier praised, finding a website and angling the screen so that Apollo could choose what he wanted.

They ended up ordering three pizzas, a box of garlic bread, potato wedges, two bottles of coke and two ice cream tubs.
Apollo didn’t comment when Klavier turned the T.V back on from standby and Snow White returned to the screen. He flicked off quickly, and picked out a Simpsons re-run while they waited for their order to be delivered.

Klavier desperately thought for something to say, but only one thing was on his mind.

“So, what exactly prompted your visit to me this morning?” Klavier and Apollo were close, but he could definitely think of plenty of other people who he would have thought to be more likely to visit him, especially as a week hadn’t even passed since his disappearing act from society.

Apollo’s thoughtful face returned, and he looked at Klavier with his serious expression again. “Well, it was mainly because everyone was talking about you and being worried, but nobody was actually going to visit you.” He twiddled his thumbs, looking down for a moment before continuing. “Since Trucy and I were the last people to see you, I think, and you had seemed agitated the whole time we were in court on Friday, and then you were so dismissive to Trucy, and you’re never like that with her, so I knew something was wrong, and I guess I was kind of hoping to find out what your deal with wings is – not that you necessarily have a deal with wings, it’s just that I noticed you always tense up whenever someone even says the word like you’re doing right now and there was that whole thing with you in the press about wings–”

Klavier had thrown his head up against the leather and interrupted Apollo as he began to shift into a tangent. “Of course you would have about a dozen reasons for coming. It’s you – I should have known.” He really wanted to avoid the last thing that Apollo had said, but he knew that the man would press on and ask again anyway.
“Apollo, what are your wings like?” He partially asked because he wanted to know, and partially because he knew it was his best bet at getting out of a conversation about his own wing issues.
Apollo was indeed taken aback by the question, and a sort of awkward atmosphere entered the room. It wasn’t like seeing someone’s wings was a private or embarrassing event – in this situation, though, for some reason it seemed to take on a different meaning.

“W-what are they like? They help me fly… So I guess, they’re big, I mean, I don’t really need them to be as big as they are because I’m not really – uh, why are you asking?” Apollo hadn’t really answered his question, but he wasn’t on Klavier’s case anymore, so he didn’t mind too much.

“That’s not what I meant… I’ve never even seen your wings before. What do they look like?” He was genuinely curious; his eyes drifting over Apollo slowly and his mind wandering back to the images he had conjured once upon a time.

Apollo scratched the back of his head, pouting as he thought about it for a minute. “They’re nothing special, really,” he stated, and Klavier scoffed, “but if you really want to know . . . I’ll show you after we eat.”

Klavier sat up suddenly, feeling excitement and nerves pool in his stomach. “You would do that?” His eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline, the delighted smile on his face so genuine that it was infectious – Apollo couldn’t help but smile back easily.

“Sure; why not? I mean, I can be kind of brash and clumsy with them so we’d probably have to go into the garden – assuming your garden is big enough – but as long as that’s okay, then I don’t mind showing you.”

Klavier leaned towards Apollo, smiling wider and nodding his head enthusiastically. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.” He realised how close he was and shifted back slightly, sensing Apollo’s nerves under his strange reaction.
There was more than that – Klavier had revealed too much of himself, and Apollo was starting to work the pieces of the puzzle together before he had gathered all of the clues.  “Good, then; that’s settled.”

After that, the conversation drifted into a slightly easier one surrounding work, friends and holidays. There seemed to be less of a barrier now that they had spoken slightly about wings, and Klavier had not blatantly denied his issues, so no rift had appeared – there was simply trepidation, and, amongst other things, hunger. It had really been a while since they had both eaten; especially Klavier.

The obnoxious doorbell tone went off sooner rather than later, and they both raced from the couch to the door, yanking it open and grabbing the goodies like starved gannets.
Apollo gave a confused look over the boxes he was holding when Klavier shut the door.

“Aren’t we supposed to pay the delivery guy?” He asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“There is such a thing as paying online nowadays, Herr Forehead, and that’s exactly what I did.” Klavier turned at that, swaggering through the living room door with the cola and ice cream in hand.

“But what about my side of the meal? You want me to pay you in cash?” Apollo set the boxes down on the expensive-looking glass table in front of the couch, delving into the back pocket of his work trousers for his wallet.

“Nein, nein. Think of it as a small token of gratitude to my knight in shining red armour.” He smiled like he was on camera, temporarily fazing Apollo until he had the chance to correct himself.
Brushing invisible dirt from his waistcoat, he commented in a final tone. “I suppose I can accept that I owe you a meal for now.”

After that, they both collapsed back onto the sofa, delving into the boxes and shoving slices of well-topped pizza into their mouth like there was no tomorrow.
Apollo moaned unabashed and loud when the taste first hit his tongue, and it was just enough to tickle Klavier in all of the wrong ways for eating pizza with a friend, settling a light blush on his cheeks. He was suddenly all too interested in his own slice, biting into it ferociously.

The last of the three pizzas was covered with different kinds of sausage and an extremely large quantity of jalapeño slices – those of which were cast aside until they were met with the final slice.
“It seems a shame to waste all of that vegetable,” Apollo sighed at the mess of green in the box.

There was a moment of silence between them. “Wait; I have an idea.” Klavier grinned mischievously, and set to work gathering the bits into a pile atop the last slice.

“I don’t like the look of this. You’re not going to actually put it in your mouth, are you? Seriously, Klavier, you can’t eat all of that.” Apollo tried to chastise, but Klavier had already made his mind up.

“I was never planning to eat all of it… You’re going to have a bite.” Apollo took a moment, before widening his eyes in realisation and shaking his head.

“Klavier, you cannot be serious right now. You can’t actually expect me to – oh my god; you do!” He looked at the man in utter disbelief, and shook his head again. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re not gonna catch me eating that on my deathbed.”

“Oh really, is that right? Sorry I overestimated you, then; chicken boy.” And with that, he took a large bite, savouring it in his mouth with a hamster-like smile directed at Apollo; eyes nearly shut, cheeks full, a single string of cheese dangling from his lips precariously.

“Did you just call me a chicken? I can’t just let that slide… Aagh, fuck it.” Apollo reached his head down and grabbed the remainder of the huge slice with his mouth, his lips brushing accidentally against the tips of Klavier’s fingers as he went to bite. Klavier didn’t have time to enjoy the sensation before he realised their mistake.

“Apoyo—wai; no, fuchk” Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, the burning set in but the slice not finished. Apollo had already put the slice in his mouth, and was just about coming to terms with the terrible decision that he, himself, had just made.

In a moment, they were both crying with pain and laughter as they still refused to spit out the food, the juicy jalapeños staining their mouths with evil spicy fluid.

 “Thish was-the worsht deshishon eber,” Apollo laughed around the pizza as he tried to chew it into something he could swallow.

Klavier slapped a hand over his mouth as he guffawed and nearly choked on his food, swallowing and re-opening his mouth in horror. It took Apollo approximately two more seconds to finish his own ridiculous mouthful, and they both downed half a bottle of cola at the same time, slumping against the back cushioning of the sofa.

They stared at each other for a few moments before bursting into laughter again.
“Never – never make me do that, ever again,” Apollo wiped tears from the corners of his eyes as Klavier wheezed like an old man.

“Don’t you dare blame me. You did that to yourself,” he laughed after catching his breath.

High from laughter, Apollo jumped off the sofa and grabbed Klavier by the hand, tugging forcefully and making Klavier’s stomach churn uncomfortably with unprocessed food. “C’mon; let’s go to the garden.”
Klavier let himself be pulled up and they stumbled through the kitchen, taking the lead to turn the key that was resting on the counter and opening the large glass door to his garden.

It was a wide expanse of mostly nothing – Klavier had never been one for gardening more so than sunbathing; and a pool was built into the ground at the far end. The day was sunny and beautiful, though, streams of light cascading across the bright green of the long grass.

Without thinking about it, Apollo quickly stripped himself of his waistcoat and shirt, dropping them carelessly on the patio before walking backwards onto the grass. Like he had been hit by freezing water, he finally realised that he was shirtless in front of Klavier as soon as his feet hit natural ground. Suddenly, he wasn’t having so much fun, and his heart pounded restlessly as if it were yelling through his chest.
It was strange to him that he was so nervous – acts like this were much more natural in front of other people. With Klavier’s eyes on him, it almost seemed like some kind of momentous event.

Klavier himself had stopped on the patio, watching the sun flitter on Apollo’s bare skin in pretty patterns between the shadow of the trees and bushes. The realisation of what was about to happen set butterflies aflutter in his stomach and left him unable to let his thoughts out as words.

“Are you ready?” Apollo called, pushing his arms out like a starfish and bathing them in the comforting heat of the sun. He looked Klavier in the face, who nodded, hands stiffly at his sides and eyes wide in anticipation, having not moved from first stepping out beyond the kitchen doors.

Sparing only a second to ready himself, Apollo released the tension in his muscles and let his wings push out to either end of the width of the garden. It was a burst of colour; like watching exploding paintballs fly out from behind his arms. The wings ruffled and relished in the sunshine, stretching and filling out with a natural grace.

Klavier was stunned absolutely speechless.
Apollo’s wings were completely different to anything he had imagined – they were a gorgeous palate of red, yellow and greens – a parrot’s colouring. They were curved; thick and tropical, the long feathers dusting down and blending with the green of the grass at the tips – absolutely breath-taking.

Klavier couldn’t quite describe the feeling of seeing another person’s wings for the first time in over a decade. The last time he had was as a child, with Kristoph, who was one of few that knew of his secret. A younger Kristoph was upset that Klavier couldn’t fly, and decided to show him how it felt to be in the air – telling Klavier to climb on his back, and jumping from the top of their shed with wings outstretched.
Of course, Kristoph’s wings – especially at that time, were far too weak to hold the both of them, and they gave out; the brothers ended up tumbling to the ground, Kristoph landing badly on his wrist and breaking it in the process.
From then on, their parents had tried their hardest to shield Klavier from anything wing-related. Some things were impossible to miss, though, like the television and the Internet – Klavier found himself only ever looking at human wings in front of a screen, and shielding himself from reality when he grew into an adult just as his parents had done for him years before.

Apollo smiled widely at the feeling of being outstretched; the grin reaching his cheeks and dusting him a pretty pink. He jogged back a couple of steps and let his wings carry him a little, a singular bat against the air pushing a light gust of wind in Klavier’s direction and hitting him face-on.

Of course, was all Klavier could think – in seeing the wings, nothing would have suited Apollo more perfectly – nothing else would have done him Justice, with a capital ‘J’.

Looking at his face, Apollo said something Klavier couldn’t hear. He wondered why Apollo’s smile had dropped; why his brows furrowed and his wings drooped down, long forgotten by their owner as he ran to stand directly in front of Klavier.

“Klavier, did you hear me? Why are you crying? Klavier; what’s wrong?”

Oh. Klavier felt the dampness against his cheeks, and wiped it quickly away with the backs of his hands.

“Stunning,” was all he could reply, “Apollo, you’re absolutely perfect.”

Apollo turned a deep red, akin to the colour of the feathers stemming directly from his abdomen. He looked at the ground as he mumbled. “Then what’s with the tears?” His wings pulled inwards as if they were about to be folded away into the fissures of Apollo’s back.
Klavier could only shake his head in reply, brushing his fingers against Apollo’s chin until the man faced him.

The beautiful, rich brown of his eyes was tinged with sadness, and Klavier was overwhelmed.

“What’s wrong? I don’t understand,” Apollo was at a loss, questioning in a small squeak. Klavier had never heard him say that he didn’t understand something before – Apollo looked Klavier in the eye with all of the innocence a man whose knowledge and perception had failed him for the first time.

“Can I touch them?” Klavier blurted, raising his eyebrows when he realised what he had said. “No, wait, never mind – sorry,” he shook his head as Apollo replied:

“If you want to, then that’s okay, you know.” He met Klavier’s eyes again, staring at him seriously and probing into his thoughts as only Apollo seemed to be able to do.

Klavier’s eyebrows rose and he reached out, stopping halfway in his journey when the wings seemed to stretch of their own accord again and knocked over a potted plant on the patio.

Apollo was brought back to reality by the sound. “Shit, sorry,” he cursed, turning back when Klavier murmured an “it’s okay,” and took the man by the hand again, guiding him to the edge of his right wing next to his shoulder.

The feathers were strikingly soft, and the muscle curved into the touch of his palm. He almost couldn’t believe that they were real and he was looking at them as if he had never seen a pair of wings in his life.

“Why do you stare at me like that?” Apollo asked, pushing dangerously closer to the man in front of him.

“Like what?” Klavier replied, half-listening; engrossed in the feeling of the feathers beneath his palm.

“Like you’re not quite sure if you’re dreaming.” He shook his head as soon as he had said it. “Wait, scratch that. Why are you so upset by wings? What’s the issue?” His eyes had hardened and he was staring at Klavier like he could figure out his secrets if he kept looking. He probably could.

Klavier shook his head. “It’s difficult for me to say.” He felt the tears threatening to spill again as he thought of his own situation; only worsened by the fact that he knew nobody would ever be able to look at him like he looked at Apollo. The petty, self-depreciating thoughts churned in his head like bad butter and his hand jerked back from Apollo’s wing.
This situation was dangerous, and he had to get out of it, but he didn’t quite know how.

Apollo bit his lip hard. “If I guessed, would you tell me if I was right?” That was an easier option, Klavier supposed, but it meant that Apollo would know – he had no doubts that he would guess correctly despite the lack of information. Klavier had made a bad decision, and now he had no other choices available to him.

“Fine. Follow me.” He probably would have sounded angry if he didn’t sound so upset. Apollo followed him back into the house without going back to pick up his clothes, his wings retreating back. Klavier felt a little tragic at that – there would never be a time where Apollo released his wings so freely in front of Klavier again, if he ever did at all.

He slumped into a dining chair in the kitchen, and Apollo took the chair directly opposite his, folding his arms around the small, unused table and sitting up straight.

“You don’t like your wings.”

“Huh?” Klavier was pulled out of his reverie, confusion and something else hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“You said I could guess.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“So, did I get it right?” Apollo tilted his head to the side inquisitively, and goodness be damned if he didn’t look exactly like Trucy when he did that.

“I suppose, but it goes deeper than that.” Apollo hummed in reply, and was silent for a few seconds.

“Maybe you’re . . . missing feathers? Or they’re shaped funny?”

“One question at a time. Both of those were wrong, though.”

“You have no wings?”

“How could your first guess be correct if I had no wings, Apollo?”

“That’s a good point.” Apollo pressed his thumb to his forehead in concentration.

Before he could make another guess, there was a thunderous ‘bang’, and a muffled voice yelled from across the house.

“GOD DAMN IT, KLAVIER GAVIN; IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR WITHIN TEN SECONDS I SWEAR I WILL USE THE POWER THAT COMES WITH MY JOB TO BREAK IT DOWN FOR YOU!” In that moment, Klavier recognised the sound of his doorbell (that was quickly becoming tired) and the voice of a member of his band; Angus Badd.

His head whipped to face the general direction of the front door. “I should get that,” he said breathily, jumping up from the table with more than a little relief and unsteadily jogging towards the sound of Badd slowly counting down from ten.

As soon as Klavier had opened the door partially, he was shoved aside and the door nearly pushed off its hinges.
Badd was a year or so younger than he was, but deep wrinkles had already begun to set into his ultra-serious features. His long face was pulled into a frown; the lack of receding hairline and look of fire in his eyes the only indications of his youth.

“I’ve been trying to contact you for four days. Why do you never answer your phone? It’s always next to you; isn’t it?” Badd shoved his hands into his pockets and swung into the living room like he owned the place.

There, stood a very annoyed Apollo against the wall, in all of his shirtless glory.

Badd turned to look at Klavier, his face changed into what only people who knew him could tell was a smirk and not a grimace. “Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?” He jerked a thumb back at Apollo whose mouth dropped open in acute horror. “Doesn’t even smell like sex in here. Smells like day-old pizza.”

“Actually, the pizza’s relatively fresh.” Klavier crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed his posture. “Apollo, this is Angus Badd; my friend for eight years running and the drummer for the Gavinners.” Badd waved half-heartedly at Apollo from the spot he had taken on the couch. “Angus, this is Apollo Justice, defence attorney, and good friend.” He emphasised the word ‘friend’, hoping the Badd would take the hint.

 “Right. Badd, huh? That’s an unusual surname.” Apollo spoke up, staring Badd down like he recognised him from somewhere. Badd was famous, but Apollo didn’t know anything about the pop culture scene.

“Speak for yourself,” Badd snorted, mumbling something about what the fuck kind of name ‘Justice’ was into the collar of his leather jacket.

“What I meant was; especially considering that you’re in the vocation; you must be related to the famous Detective Badd of the Yatagarasu cases, right?” Apollo explained slowly.

“That’d be my old man; yeah.” Badd was looking Apollo up and down, and he sniffed, clearly irritated at something he had seen.
Apollo was stepping into dangerous territory – Angus’ father was more than a little sensitive of a topic; even the band had tiptoed around it most of the time.

Badd turned his head upside down to look at Klavier with an unreadable expression. “Well if you weren’t fucking, what were you doing? You haven’t touched any kind of social media in days.”

Klavier and Apollo shared a look. “I’m gonna go and get my clothes from the garden.” With that, he entered the kitchen, leaving Klavier and Badd to discuss whatever they needed.

Badd’s eyes widened in realisation. “So that’s why it doesn’t smell like sex in the house.” After Apollo had left the room with a distant yell of discontent at Badd’s deduction, the awkward tension had seemed to float away.
“If he’s only been around for . . . a day, judging by the state of your house, what exactly was it that you were doing? I’m kind of genuinely curious.” Badd smiled easily now that it was just the two of them – to say that he wasn’t very good at talking to people he didn’t know was an understatement. There were two ways to go about with his explanation, and Klavier decided to go with the easiest.

“Would you believe that I was marathoning Disney movies on my own for four days until he showed up?” He leaned against the wall, crossing one leg over another and jerking a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

Badd considered it for a moment. “Yeah, I can see that happening.” They snickered amongst themselves, and then were serious again.

“So, what was it that you needed to contact me so badly for?” Badd, unlike the other members of the Gavinners, was not one to drop in unless he had something to say, especially as they were now disbanded – there was no band business to speak of, and so it had to be something else. The only thing it could be was a case to solve.

Badd sighed, rubbing his temple with two fingers, and looked Klavier in the eye.
“Y’know, it’s probably a good thing that the little horned guy is here. He might… want to have a listen to what I’m going to tell you.”

Klavier cocked an eyebrow at this, straightening his posture. “Absolutely not. You’re not getting Apollo involved with something dangerous. I refu–”

“What is it that you wanted me to hear?” Apollo stepped into the room, silencing Klavier with a piercing glare as he finished doing up the buttons of his waistcoat.

The detective smiled humourlessly at the display. “It’s to do with the case you solved five days ago. Or rather, to be specific, the partner of the victim.”

Both Apollo and Klavier jumped to attention at the mention of their previous case. For a murder on both of their records, it had been relatively issue-free.

Was it really asking that much to have just one case that ended without a song and dance? Klavier sighed inwardly, reprimanding himself for expecting anything other than a case that came back to bite him.

“And what does she have to do with the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into?” Klavier’s response reflected his agitation, and he could have sworn that he saw Badd flinch into the couch cushioning.

“She kidnapped Kay.” There was something odd about the way Badd uttered the statement. It was subdued, as if he were ashamed of himself.
“Who’s Kay? What does she have to do with Ms. Mines?” Apollo was fully concentrated on Badd, not showing the irritation he probably felt at the lack of knowledge.

“Kay is the daughter of Byrne Faraday, a good friend and colleague of Angus’ father. Angus came into contact with her after doing some research when he was sixteen, and they became very fast friends with her. Now, she’s like family to him.” Apollo looked to Badd after Klavier’s speech. He confirmed with a nod. Klavier did not feel it his right to tell Apollo about Tyrell Badd’s more personal connection with the Yatagarasu, and apparently, neither did Angus.

“Miranda Mines is a member of a latch-off group from Amano’s. I knew that they had been keeping tabs on Kay and I, especially after my father died and we started contacting each other frequently again. My guess is that Mines’ connection to the victim of your case had something to do with plans that they had.”
Badd paused for a moment after that, to let the information sink in, but the room stayed silent – both Klavier and Apollo waiting for him to tell them what he wanted.
“I need information. Anything you can remember about Mines; any leftover documents that you think will be useful. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I’m not leaving Kay alone like this.”
His expression was pained; his lips thin and eyebrows pinched together.
It wasn’t like Badd to be so expressive – somehow, that gave a larger gravity to the situation, for Klavier at least.

“You aren’t planning to rescue her yourself, are you? You need to contact the police.” Apollo was defiant, his eyebrows pushed down and his hand balled into a fist at his side.

Badd’s face became a mask of his father’s again as he spoke. “I’m not going to wait around for a search warrant, or for someone else to be assigned the case. Kay needs help, and if it means I have to take the law into my own hands to help her, then so be it.” At first, Apollo looked as if Badd had pooped in his shoes, but he appeared to take a mental step back – giving a deep breath, he replied.

“You’re not doing this alone.” Apollo put his index finger to his forehead, and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need that kind of help from you.” Badd was studying Apollo with a suspicious expression.

“If you don’t let me come with, then I won’t share any information with you.” Apollo looked Badd in the eye, challenging him with a hard glare.

Badd’s reply was clipped and dismissive. “That’s fine. I’ll get Klavier to share whatever he has.”

“Unfortunately for you, Klavier has next to nothing on Ms. Mines. I was the one who requested her presence in court, and so the most talking they did was in the thirty-minute recess to plan her testimony. I have solid information. I even have her address.” Apollo was playing a dangerous game with Badd, but he appeared to be winning.

“Her address?!? How in the hell did you manage to get your hands on that?!” Badd nearly flew from his sitting position after hearing Apollo’s words, clearly too riled up to keep a level head – in other words, he had already lost. Apollo kept silent.
“Fine. You can come with, but don’t expect me to protect you if you get yourself into a bad situation. My priority is Kay.”

Apollo had accepted the condition quite easily, but it pushed Klavier into a stream of worry. He knew that there was no way he was going to get Apollo to back down, but he couldn’t leave him to face such a dangerous situation alone.

“Then I’ll go too. If you won’t protect Apollo, then I will.” Apollo flared up at the comment, as Klavier knew that he would. He hated that the man would never accept any damned help, and he had always conceded in previous events, but not this time.

“What am I, chopped liver? I don’t need a bodyguard, Prosecutor Gavin – I can protect myself.” The title stung more than it should have, but it only tightened Klavier’s resolve.

“Oh, can you? I assume you have trained with guns, then; Herr Forehead? You must have done some kind of anti-terror training and special qualifications in self-defence. This is not a simple issue of defending yourself against a particularly aggressive citizen! You need cover by someone that can use a gun and the experience of someone that has done this before.” Klavier had unconsciously stepped forwards, balling both hands into fists to prevent himself from slamming something.

Apollo’s expression became troubled. He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, and sighed in defeat.
“All right; I won’t make a fuss. Just . . . don’t play the hero, okay?  If you got hurt defending me, I don’t know what I’d do.” The honesty of Apollo’s words set Klavier’s heart aflutter.

Even with Badd in the room, the temptation to blurt out a confession was thick and heavy on Klavier’s tongue. It ignited his insides with a familiar sense of fear and exhilaration – he could reveal everything with a few words, and Apollo would know beyond a doubt that he was telling the truth.
But it would be completely wrong to do so. To put that on Apollo, especially as they had to spend all of their time together during the investigation. Klavier knew that he couldn’t hold off for long – he may have to get away at some point.
 Being around someone that you had feelings for was like being slowly intoxicated; the air he was breathing like fine wine on a summer’s day, enough to send him drunk and reeling from everything he thought but could not say aloud.

“Yes, well… Fine. I’m going to get dressed.” And, with that, he escaped up the stairs and into his bedroom, leaving Apollo and Badd quite alone and quite confused.

Apollo was the first to speak. “…Well, that was weird.” He moved from across the room, collapsing onto the sofa as far from Badd as possible to avoid any awkward physical contact.

“I’ll say.” Badd replied, eyebrows pinched together as he stared hard at the wall. “I haven’t seen him get that flustered since we met that girl on tour in Indonesia…” Something clicked in Badd’s head then, and his eyes widened as he snapped his head to face Apollo.

“What is it? Do you know what’s up with him?”

“…Are you sure you aren’t fucking?” Badd cracked a cheap grin.

“Why does everyone think that?!?” Apollo threw his hands into the air, exasperated, and slumped in the couch cushions before he turned to look at Badd with suspicion. “What are you hiding from me?” The sentence was a lot quieter than when he had last spoken, and it caught Badd off guard.

“What are you talking about? What would I have to hide from you?” Badd scoffed and raised an eyebrow, but his shoulders had stiffened, and his hands were tensed against his knees.

Apollo shifted on the couch to face Badd directly. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He spoke cryptically, before they both recognised the faint sound of someone climbing down the stairs.

Klavier walked through the entranceway to the living room, clasping his hands together as he spoke. “We should get moving if we want to get a reasonable amount of investigating done.”

“All right! Where to, Mein Forehead?” Klavier spoke as soon as they had all piled themselves into his car. Apollo was seated next to him for directions purposes, and Badd was in the middle seat at the back, leaning forward so that he could rest both of his arms on the backs of their chairs.
Going back to the Wright Anything Agency for tangible information meant answering questions that they didn’t want to answer, but luckily for them, Apollo had saved Ms. Mines’ address on his phone, so they could go straight there without the fuss.

“Get to the Kitakis’ side of People Park and I’ll direct you from there.” Apollo ordered, business-like. Klavier smiled at the tone, and pulled out of the garage with care.

“Yes, sir.”

The ride in the car was silent for a while, until Apollo addressed Badd in a surprisingly conversational tone. “So, how did you find out that Ms. Mines was involved?”

Badd cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I didn’t know until your case had been solved. You see, I knew that somebody from that organisation had their eyes on us, and I knew that they were connected to Olivia Windsor – somebody had been making transactions on her credit card, and scheduling private meetings with powerful people under her name. Your case was solved, but it left many unanswered questions about Mines, so I checked her out and she matched up with the clues that I had been sent. That was when I got wind of Kay’s situation.”

“What kind of clues were you sent? And how did you find out about Kay?” Apollo fired, staring probingly into Badd’s impenetrable gaze.

“Spare me the twenty questions, Kid; I’ll tell you when we have the time.”

Klavier slowed once they reached People Park, and true to his word, Apollo began to direct.
“Okay, when you reach that blue house, turn left. Yeah. Um. This is easier on foot. Okay, another left here.” Klavier drove slowly up a small side road until it closed off with houses.
“We’re here.”

In leaving the car, they were all hit with a familiar sensation. Just like walking alone at night in a shady area, a cold shiver ran down Apollo’s neck. He had felt something like this the last time he was here, but this time, he had no idea what they were going to do. Were they going to hope she was home and question her? Get into a fight? Sit outside her house until she got back?

“We’re breaking in, by the way.” Badd threw casually over his shoulder as he walked on ahead. “Which house is it?”

“There is no chance in hell that I am breaking into a house with you!” Apollo hissed, outraged.

“That’s fine; you can just tell me the door number and wait by the car. It’ll make things much quicker.”

Apollo had originally been planning to wait by the car, but Klavier had gone on ahead with Badd, and the street was way too shady for him to feel comfortable being alone and vulnerable. He shuffled mopingly, far behind the other two.

“Listen, Klavier; that little red guy –” Badd started, desperation colouring his tone.

Klavier waved him off.  “Apollo’s not so bad once you get past the grumpy bits.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s about earlier, when you went to get changed. It’s like – it’s like he read my mind or something. No, not my mind; like my body, or whatever.” Badd visibly shivered, and continued.
“See I figured out you have the hots for him mid-conversation and he just froze and told me he knew I was hiding something from him. As soon as I knew, he knew. Whatever is with that guy, I don’t like it and I don’t trust him.”

“Oh, you mean his perception thing?”

“Yeah – wait, you know he does that weird shit?”

“Yes; he uses it in court all of the time to get the truth out of people. He can sense when someone is lying or hiding something from him because of the way they move or conduct themselves. And that’s… about the extent of what I’ve gleaned from knowing him for this long. I still don’t  understand how he does it, or who he learned it from – Kristoph would never have –”

“It doesn’t matter where it came from. Do you think we can trust it – him?” Badd on the outside looked relaxed, his hands in his pockets and his head angled away from Klavier, probably trying his hardest to stop Apollo from reading anything from the situation.

“I would trust him with my life.” Klavier said casually, looking straight ahead so he didn’t make eye contact when Badd looked over at him.

“But can I trust him with mine?” He didn’t need to look over to know that Badd’s eyes were serious.

“He followed you out here to keep you out of trouble. That means he believes in what you’ve said, and that he saw something good in you. Make of that what you will, but I won’t let you harm him.” Klavier shrugged as he spoke, feeling far too exposed in his feelings for Apollo.

“I guess I’ll just have to trust your judgement, then.”

Apollo caught up then, and led the way to number fifteen, turning as he set foot in the tiny front garden.
“So,” he cleared his throat, looking a little bit like he’d had the life drained out of him. “how are we doing this, exactly?”

“I’m going to take a quick look around while Angus figures it out,” Klavier stated, slapping his friend on the back and vaulting over the tiny brick wall surrounding the garden.

“Do you two do this often, by any chance?” Apollo looked sullenly onwards as Klavier jogged round the back of the house.

“When we were teens, we sneaked in and out of houses a lot. Nothing illegal, really, just escaping after one-night stands, pulling pranks and stuff.”
Apollo didn’t look convinced in the slightest.
“Just don’t worry about it, okay? We’re not here to steal their money, or murder anyone – we just need clues. Something to criminalise Mines.”

“I can deal with it. Stop babying me. Just tell me where we have to go.”

At that moment, Klavier jumped down from the back gate and sprinted over, a catlike grin spreading across his face. “I think I’ve found a way in.” Both Badd and Apollo turned to look at him incredulously, but Klavier just jabbed a thumb in the direction of the back garden, muttering a quick “follow me,” before turning to walk back to where he had been before.

“That was quick,” Apollo murmured, following along.

The garden itself was very unremarkable compared to the effort it took to climb the gate (Apollo had tried to look like he knew what he was doing, but all façades went out of the metaphorical window when he scrambled up the gate for his life like a tubby guinea pig.) The tiny space felt very closed in next to the towering wall of the house, coated in ominous-looking pebble-dash – Apollo wondered to himself how on earth they were planning to climb the thing.

That was, until Klavier reached the back door, and opened it.

“That was easy.” Apollo stated; his eyebrows had risen near halfway up his forehead with surprise.

“Yeah. A little too easy, if you ask me. I think we’re expected guests.” Badd commented.

“Or Ms. Mines just isn’t very safety-conscious.” Apollo replied confidently, thinking that this whole situation was far too movie-like for the real world.

Badd and Klavier turned to look at him, Klavier looking dumbfounded and Badd irritated beyond belief.

“You think she would just leave the back gate open? One, she’s a member of a notorious gang. Two, she wouldn’t even use this house most of the time. Damn, do you think that we would just sneak in if we thought there was a chance she was home?”

Apollo suddenly felt very childish in the face of Klavier and Badd. “Fine,” he huffed, “can we go in, now?”

They all piled into the kitchen, which was equally as unremarkable as the garden was.
The highlight of the room, a small potted cactus, perched on a small windowsill above the sink, standing tall as if it knew it was the centrepiece.
The cupboard doors were all painted off-white, the floors covered in peach tile and the walls in grey. The colour scheme sounded almost like it would work in theory, but it left the room feeling devoid of life, and just by being in it Apollo felt drained.

“First thing’s first – Klavier can check the living room. I’ll check the bedroom. And Justice… You can check the bathroom.”

“Are you kidding me?” After spending half of his lifetime in the Wright Anything Agency’s dismal toilet, he was completely unopposed to locking Badd himself inside of the bathroom and doing the investigation himself.

Klavier only snickered – Badd had already slunk out of the room, and was probably halfway up the stairs by now.
Apollo turned to jab an angry finger in Klavier’s direction.

“You can shut up, or I swear I will find something in the bathroom that will make you shut up.” And with that, he strode away.

“I would be more than happy to oblige, süsser.” Klavier called after him.

“I was talking about the toilet brush!” Apollo yelled back, outraged.

They all busied themselves around the house, and Apollo was left with an unyielding sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. What if Ms. Mines came home? What if she already was here? It took an embarrassing amount of logical persuasion for Apollo to convince himself that any noises he heard nearby were just Badd and Klavier being uncareful with Mines’ belongings.

The bathroom was larger than he’d expected it to be for such a small house, fit with a shower/bath combo and a tall shelved cupboard filled with many boxes.
Said boxes were filled with odd items like paints and ink – it was almost as if Mines had no other place for them. Underneath the strange items, there were masses of children’s books and magazines, all filled with strange documents.
The documents that Apollo skim-read were all so awfully normal that he felt disgusted with himself for looking through someone else’s belongings.
Others, though, set suspicion running through him; the script was just familiar enough to him from other cases that he immediately recognised it as Borginian.

Grabbing the papers and filing them together, he raced down the stairs.
“Klavier, I need you!”

Klavier had buried himself halfway into a bookcase, piles of strange ornaments and books scattered at his feet. At Apollo’s voice, he jumped, and his head hit a shelf with a mighty thump.

“Ach… Did you find me a toilet brush, by any chance?” He asked, though the joke sounded less funny in the strained tone of a hurt Klavier rubbing at the top of his head.

“Something better than that, if my intuition is correct.” Apollo dumped the papers on the side table by the television and spread them out.

“Well… it usually is. Hm – is this Borginian?” Klavier took up the first sheet with keen interest.
“This letter doesn’t look to be addressed to Ms. Mines. It’s about a show of some kind, I think. My Borginian is very rough, especially since I haven’t visited in a while.”

Apollo looked up at Klavier. “I knew something was odd… I think it was something Ms. Mines said to me before… Yeah! She said she’s never been outside of America – her parents are big nationalists, and were pleased to hear of her relationship with Miss Windsor – she’s seen as something of a ‘national symbol’, I suppose.” He put his index finger to his forehead, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought. “But what reason would she have to know Borginian?”

Klavier crossed his arms. “She’s either holding them for someone else, or she isn’t who she says she is.”

“Well, we already know that one of those is correct.” Apollo looked Klavier in the eye with worry, chewing at his bottom lip.

“That’s true – I should look through the rest of these, just in case.”

“You do that.” Apollo sat down on the sofa to settle himself, watching Klavier as he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses, fitting them to rest on his nose.

What. The fuck.
Those were Apollo’s only thoughts as he checked Klavier out. A lump formed in his throat, and he thought that he might be about to cry.

Klavier never wore glasses in court. Why now? It was just them in the room, and suddenly it felt far too stuffy – Apollo tugged at his collar and sucked in a breath.
It had taken just a single moment for a minor crush to swell thrice its size – Apollo had always had a thing for a serious-looking Klavier, but this was too much for his heart to handle.
His mind was going into overdrive before Klavier looked up at him with that stern expression. Everything stopped, and he turned a pretty shade of pink, from the top of his forehead to, probably, the tips of his toes.

“I think I’ve found something,” Klavier spoke quickly, and Apollo jumped up from the sofa as if he had been electrocuted.

“What did you find?” Apollo’s voice was almost comically high. He walked over to look at the papers, only to re-realise that he couldn’t read Borginian.

Klavier looked down with concern. “Are you all right?” He asked concernedly, glasses sliding down his nose a little. He reached up to fix them, curling some loose hair behind his ear in the process.

Apollo blinked a few times. “I, uh. . . maybe?”

At a loss, Klavier moved the back of his hand to settle on Apollo’s forehead with an anxious hum. Apollo nearly lost it right there.

“Do you know what? I’m taking these.” Apollo stated, swiftly tugging the glasses from Klavier’s face and backing away towards the door.

“Hey, I need those!” Klavier protested, leaning down to grab the pair of glasses from Apollo’s fingers.

As Klavier bent down, Apollo's heart spiked, and he panicked. He grabbed a fistful of Klavier’s hair with his free hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

He felt Klavier’s lip gloss stick to his lips in the moment that they parted. He could feel Klavier’s breathing on his right cheek, but he had squeezed his eyes shut and refused to open them – who knows what Klavier was thinking, what he would say. If he brushed it off, Apollo didn’t think that he’d be able to handle it. But that’s all he could envision.

He heard the sound of a couple of sheets fluttering to the ground (from Klavier’s hands?) and then fingers were brushing against his cheek – he squeezed his eyes further shut as his heart cried out.

Then Klavier’s lips were on his again, moving slowly; cautiously, tugging on Apollo’s lower lip and he was walking them both forwards to lean against the wall. Klavier’s hands stayed put on Apollo’s cheeks, palms flat and fingers flittering. Apollo had one hand against Klavier’s waist and the other stayed in the mess he had made of Klavier’s tied hair.
Klavier made a low, appreciative noise from the back of his throat, and Apollo pulled Klavier flush against him, nipping at his lip. Apollo could feel his stomach lock and butterflies flutter from the pit of his stomach to the back of his mouth.

Klavier had only gotten as far as licking at Apollo’s lip before a throat cleared behind them, and they both jumped away, righting themselves.

Badd stood before them, arms crossed and eyes staring at the side wall with disinterest. “So, I didn’t find any leads, but I did find a few wads of cash under her mattress. The amount wasn’t anything to sneeze at, either.”

Klavier seemed to remember himself. “Ah, yes! Apollo found a few documents in the bathroom, all in Borginian, and asked me to translate for him.”

“Translate, huh? So that’s what they’re calling it nowadays.”

“It’s a lead,” Klavier spoke quickly over Badd, trying his best to gather up what he had dropped and what was left on the table without falling over himself, “to a warehouse. There aren’t any travelling instructions, but there’s a name. It appears that they’re using a designer named Chie to sneak something illegal into Borginia.”

Badd’s eyes widened with interest. “What’s the name of the warehouse?”

“They called it The Blackout, Section B.”

“I knew it. Klavier, we need to get back to yours, and sharpish. Bring those documents.” Badd flew into the kitchen, leaving Klavier and Apollo alone again.

“Follow Badd now, talk later?” Apollo offered.

“I think that’s the best idea.” Klavier concurred, and they followed Badd out the door in a hurried pace.

The drive home seemed longer than it was. They piled into Klavier’s house in silence and no sooner than Badd had entered the hallway, he was racing into the living room, swiping Klavier’s laptop and settling himself on the couch.

When Klavier and Apollo entered the room, Badd spoke. “I’m researching Chie. He’s apparently a world-famous designer – not that I’ve ever heard of him. His next show is in Borginia in three days’ time.”

“But why would they use Chie to smuggle their goods? Especially in being so famous there could easily be a media leak if someone found their stash.” Apollo commented, grabbing his phone from his pocket and searching.

After a few moments, there was a small “Ah ha!” and Apollo looked up at Badd with a grin. “Special search rights. Since Chie is so busy, this time he has a warrant – he won’t have his cargo searched on the boat or the plane, as part of a show of trust between him and the United States after a racial profiling incident that caused some political tension. There was some kind of internet uproar about it, but it’s still going ahead, according to this article.”

“Good work, Justice. We’ll leave for Section B tomorrow, then.” Badd decided, pulling the laptop closed.

“Tomorrow?!? Why not tonight?” Apollo asked, shocked.

“It’s nearly six P.M. if the cargo has left, then it would have left already. Besides, if Kay is there, I doubt they plan to take her all the way to Borginia with the stock.”

“So, what do we do now?” Klavier inputted, bracing himself on the back of the couch.

Badd stood suddenly. “Well, I’m heading off, because I can take care of myself, and there are a few things I plan to bring with me tomorrow morning that I’ve left at my place. It’s probably best, for the both of you, if Justice stays here. That house is probably monitored, and they could be on the lookout for you.” Badd stated sternly.

“Well, I mean, if you insist – I don’t mind –” Klavier began.

“Yeah, I suppose, if there’s a safety concern, I think it’s best if we . . . yeah.” Apollo continued.

“Don’t get up to anything that could hinder your performance tomorrow, okay? I’m not covering for anyone with a sore arse.” Badd swooped out the room, and seconds later, they heard the door close behind him.