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The winter months were hardly ever forgiving.
It had become almost a tradition, in which you received the nastiest of infections each year as winter arrived. And with the sickness came its symptoms; fevers, sneezes, coughs, and the want to shrivel up and die peacefully.
You noticed you catching sneezing fits and groaned—it wouldn't have been long before the cold progressed to the worse of its symptoms. You had to take a trip to the local clinic to receive a doctor’s note to hand to your boss:
Klavier Gavin.
It was the standard in the prosecution's building to report mainly to the prosecutor you were assigned to, so you didn't require doing so to the chief prosecutor or even the police department, but you could care less—he knew of your yearly woes during those months. It had become formality at that point.
One part of you was glad to be assigned to Klavier; he was pretty lenient in many regards, and had a fire for law and the truth that wasn't as common to see in the recent years.
When Gumshoe was assigned to him, he even managed to prove that the attorney he was against forged evidence.
Your boots clicked as you walked over to his office.
Not only that, he also simultaneously managed a whole another career—making albums and touring cities with his band, leading you to handle most of the paperwork.
He always made it up to you, though, bringing back souvenirs and decreasing your workload for a bit.
You knocked on the door to his office. Some shuffling later, it opened, making you see the blond wearing his odd sunglasses, with a pleasant smile playing on his face. You resisted smiling back.
“Morning, Liebling. Got the files?”
You scoffed. “I literally have them in my hands—perhaps instead of those ridiculous sunglasses, you should wear ones that actually work.”
He took the glasses off, crossing his arms. “They look cool!” He pouted.
You waved your hand. “I can't deal with you right now, just take them.”
Klavier returned a wink, taking your wrist to grab the files, then planting a kiss on the back of your hand. “As you say so, Mein Liebe.”
You resisted slapping him with the very hand he held, and instead took out a piece of paper from your bag, handing it to him.
Klavier blinked. “Want another kiss, S—”
“Oh my god, shut up!” You interrupted. “I'm taking a sick leave—that's the doctor’s note or whatever. Now, I'm going to the crime scene; don't follow me.”
Klavier read the note as you spoke. “I'm afraid I'll be taking off to the crime scene too after I read over these files,” He replied, putting the note on the nearby shelf. “How about you go in the afternoon and stay back in my office as I go over the papers? You can provide some feedback to me as I do so, ja?”
You scoffed loudly. “Are you seriously babying me right now? I came in today because I'm fine. I'm sure the lack of ‘feedback’ won't affect anything.”
Klavier watched your face, then replied, “It's—ach, nevermind. Go.” He began closing the door, not before you put your foot to avoid it shutting.
“It's what?”
Klavier sighed, motioning you to enter the office, and you did begrudgingly. Once you entered, he turned his head to you.
“I.. well, I know I'm being irrational, but I've seen you go from being completely alright, to catching a terrible fever, rendering you unable to do the most basic of things. And with how cold it is outside..” He trailed at the end. “Don't take this the wrong way, is all I'm saying.”
Although there was still a scowl present on your face, you could understand what he was trying to convey. Your condition could realistically get worse—but obviously it won't.
It was your turn to sigh. “I get it. Sorry. But I'm still going.”
He smiled. “It's your choice. I'll be there in a while.”
You gave a nod as acknowledgement and immediately exited the office, walking down the hallway, clearing your head to focus on the case.
“That'd be great,” You replied to a police officer, standing up as they left. You jotted down some notes before hearing a familiar voice.
“Schazi!”
An odd warm sensation filled your senses, and you turned around to see him having caught up to you. You weren't really sure what to chalk it up to—or at least, your pride didn't allow it.
The tips of his ears were slightly red from the cold, and he wasn't wearing his ridiculous sunglasses.
“Why aren't you wearing—” You gestured to his eye region, “—them?”
He shrugged.
“Well you're outside now, so what's the point of only wearing them inside but not—” You paused and sighed. “Whatever, why am I even..?”
“Nein, nein; it's alright.” He smiled, his hands now in his pockets.
You shook your head, ignoring how much warmer you felt. “Anyway we need to focus on the case.”
Klavier hummed. “Ja. I should also start to wear gloves like you do—it’s freezing out here.”
You laughed and shoved your notepad into his arms. “Read this; I've written some theories here, too.”
Klavier nodded as you explained, examining the scene. Then he stepped closer to you, rendering you unable to move.
Then he held the back of his hand to your forehead for a second before pulling away.
“Ah. That explains the lack of retorts.”
You frowned, making him chuckle.
“Ach, you have a fever. Go home before it gets worse.”
You immediately shook your head. “I'm fine.”
He narrowed his eyes, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “I'm serious, Liebling. Your condition could get w..”
It was getting more difficult by the second listening to him going on and on, but for reasons more than one. Your face was burning, especially your forehead, and with your vision darkening, you finally deduced what was going on.
Oh no. You were a good few seconds before passing out.
You stumbled back, saved from falling by steady hands. You couldn't see as well by that point, only blotches of solid color. You heard a muffled curse, and then, shouting? Or at least it seemed to be, but your ears weren't working well by that point. All you could do was lean against the body holding you in place, keeping you from falling into the snow-clad ground.
One blink. Two. And you were out.
Odd sensations filled your senses. All five of them.
You looked above at the ceiling, and instead of the standard colour of your apartment, there was a cool white.
You felt a surprisingly soft mattress beneath you, much softer than in your bedroom.
You tasted nothing—this was a regular whenever you got sick.
You heard the faint noise of people walking, although muffled, so perhaps outside of whichever room you were placed in.
You caught a whiff of the distinctive scents of medicine and medical equipment.
Oh.
You were currently in a hospital room. Most probably an expensive one, all things considered.
You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows before you heard his voice.
“Ach—no, lie down! You need rest, Schatzi.”
You turned your head to look at him, and a look he was; disheveled blond hair, with a frown plaguing his beautiful face. At that point he had reached by your side to get you to lay back down, and you complied, staring at him all the while.
“How..?”
He shook his head. “We can discuss later.”
You frowned, making Klavier sigh.
“You.. you practically passed out. Ambulance would have taken a while so I just chose to drive you to the hospital myself—since I brought my car instead of my hog,” He explained, squeezing your hand. “I'm so glad you're okay.”
You felt a warm sensation but immediately pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing damn well that it wasn't your fever. You squeezed his hand back politely and asked, “How long was I out?”
“Good couple hours,” He responded.
You tilted your head. “Wait so.. what are you doing here, exactly?"
“To make sure you're fine..?”
Shaking your head, you clarified, “Don't you have the crime scene to check? Doctors and nurses are here for a reason.”
“I could delay it; a certain someone was quite thorough with their notes.”
You rolled your eyes, making Klavier laugh. “Well, I'm fine. Go back to work.”
He smirked. “As you say so, Mein Liebe.”