Melt My Heart To Stone - Chapter One - Happy Up Here

“You don’t understand! I don’t think you ever will!” Trucy Wright stormed through the lounge, slamming the door to her room.

Apollo Justice had a horrible feeling she was right. A sixteen-year-old (as of last week) sister(albeit only half) was turning out to be a little bit of a nightmare. Apollo suspected that, now she knew she didn’t have to work to keep the family...well, keep the family alive, really...she could cut loose and be a teenager.

Whilst he was sure it was important for her in the long-term, it wasn’t great right now.

He flopped onto the sofa. “Nyuuuugh.” He should probably be looking over a case or something. He was defending someone on charges of shoplifting – she was innocent, she’d been framed by the store detective. All he needed was more proof – he could argue beautifully for the jury (as it was now), but he knew that Klavier Gavin could, too. Better to have the evidence, even if it was just a backup. He glanced at the clock – he would be unable to do anything useful until the store detective was off work, and he could interview him thoroughly.

“You alright, Apollo?” Phoenix Wright sauntered through, sitting beside his protégé. “Need a hand with this case?”

Apollo shook his head, turning to face his mentor (and, to an extent, father-figure). “No, that’s alright – well, it will be. It’s Trucy.”

Phoenix made a face, and stood, going towards the fridge. Apollo kept an eye on him, and when he saw Phoenix’s motion towards the grape juice –

“WRIGHT!”

Phoenix dropped his hand and jumped backwards. “What?!”

Apollo shrugged. “Mr Edgeworth told me to do that whenever you were about to start drinking. Especially during the day.”

Phoenix sighed, opening the fridge and pouring himself some orange juice. “Miles...overprotective...”

“He’s only doing it because he loves you.” Apollo supplied absently.

Phoenix almost dropped his glass. “What?”

“Please, Phoenix, both Trucy and I can read the tension between you. And even if we hadn’t, he never leaves a mark on the sofa when he stays over.”

“...I thought the reason Trucy had stopped asking about me finding her a mother was because she had her real mother.”

“It’s more that she realised that you had. And it was a man.”

Phoenix sighed, sitting down beside Apollo. “And we were so careful.” He shook his head despairingly. “Now. What was it about Trucy?”

Apollo gave another groan of defeat. “I think it’s girl stuff.”

“...ah.” Phoenix sighed. He had seen too much in his time, he’d had to call Maya Fey a few times to beg her to explain things to him, so that he in turn could explain them to his daughter. “...and...your mother...”

“Is still on tour. And I don’t think things would work over the phone.” Apollo looked at Trucy’s door. “It must suck to be the only girl in a family full of guys.”

Phoenix nodded. “Right. She needs female company.” He got up and began to pace. “Well, Maya is the most obvious choice, but she’s busy, being the Master of Kurain Village, and of course looking after Pearl...” Pearl was a little older than Trucy, and from what Phoenix understood from the long conversations he had with Maya about parenting, she could be equally troublesome when she wanted to be. “...damnit, Apollo, why don’t I know women?” He rubbed the back of his neck. Franziska von Karma was in Germany (and the idea of anyone confessing their deepest problems to her, let alone his little girl, terrified him), Iris was...possibly still in prison and hadn’t spoken to him all that much since he’d visited with Edgeworth a couple of years ago (something about not bringing your boyfriend to visit your girlfriend). Most other women he knew he simply didn’t know well enough to trust, especially with his daughter.

Apollo, in the meantime, was scrolling through the names in his cellphone. “Ema.” He replied simply. “Trucy loves her, and trusts her, and we haven’t seen her in a while...”

Phoenix grinned. “This, Apollo, is why you’re an ace attorney.” He paused. “Are you sure it isn’t that you want to see Ema?”

Apollo blushed lightly. “How many times, Mr Wright, I just think she’s pretty!”

Phoenix wasn’t convinced. “Sure, sure. Have you called Vera back yet? She needs some help finding her feet in the city – “

“You’re worse than Trucy. Isn’t she a little young for me?”

“Isn’t Ema a little old for you?”

“...I’ll call her tonight. And I’ll call Ema now.”

“Too many women spoil the broth.” Phoenix replied enigmatically, wandering back to his room.

“That’s chefs.” Apollo muttered, finding the right name and number in his phone.

---

Ema Skye was glad of the distraction – her day off had rapidly become boring, especially since she had bought herself some new clothes, cleaned her apartment and finished reading her book yesterday. None of her friends within the workplace had been free, and her friends outside the workplace were either working or studying – apparently PhD deadlines were looming, and as such they had to work hard.

It had been getting to the point where she had been considering calling Klavier and asking if anything needed doing for their current case. Imagine that. Choosing to speak to Klavier. Even choosing to see him. On a Sunday, that most sacred of days off.

When Apollo had asked her for help with Trucy, she had jumped at the idea. Pinning her hair back, she raced down the stairs, and was at Wright’s building in less than twenty minutes.

She knocked on the door, which was answered by a blast from the past – “Mr Edgeworth!”

“Ah, Ema.” Miles Edgeworth smiled, which completely threw Ema for a moment. “How are you?”

She beamed at him. “I’m well, just here to see Trucy – why are you...?” She trailed off.

Just for a second she thought she saw something pass across Edgeworth’s face, but it faded quickly. “I’m helping Wright study for his bar exam.”

“Isn’t that months away?”

“Preparation is everything, Ema.” Edgeworth replied curtly. “I believe Trucy is in her room.”

Ema arched her eyebrows. Something was definitely going on. Edgeworth moved aside so she could get through the door, before smiling a goodbye to her. “I should be getting back to Wright, he’s probably been distracted by now.”

She nodded. “Tell him I’m here and I say hi.”

Edgeworth nodded, before disappearing upstairs. Apollo looked up at her from the sofa. “They’re not fooling anyone.”

“Didn’t think they were.” Ema smiled. “How’s the case going?”

Apollo made a face. “I need to speak to the store detective, but he’s not being very responsive. I know he’s hiding something. I can’t even get enough to work out when he’s lying.”

Ema bit her lip. “He seemed to be fond of blondes. He wouldn’t say much to me, but one of the junior detectives is a blonde, and he opened up to her...”

“...are you suggesting I dye my hair?”

“I’m suggesting you find a pretty blonde girl to help you. You shouldn’t have too much trouble.” She smiled kindly.

The defendant was blonde. This was an interesting twist. “Gotta go, Ema, thanks!”

“Ema Skye, saving the day. I deserve a payrise.” She murmured to herself, knocking on Trucy’s door.

“Go away!”

“It’s Ema...I was wondering if you wanted to do something this afternoon?”

The door opened, and a tearful Trucy stood before her. “Ema?”

“Apollo called me. He said you were upset.”

“...stupid older brother.”

“Mmm, siblings do stupid things.” Ema agreed. “Now. Can I come in, or do you want to go out? We could get coffee, my treat.”

“...let me wash my face and change my clothes.” Trucy smiled slightly, rubbing her eyes.

Free food. The only true way to get through to a teenager.

Well. That she could offer, anyway.

She could hear some sort of movement upstairs, and couldn’t help but wonder whether the two attorneys she had always looked up to (possibly the only two, now, since Kristoph Gavin had thrown it all away) were studying, or whether that had given way to distractions. She decided not to dwell on it for too long.

Trucy appeared, not wearing her magical girl attire – dressed more like Ema, in jeans and a vest-top. With Trucy’s hair down, the two looked almost like they could be sisters. “You’re ready?”

Trucy nodded, carrying her bag. “There’s a cafe near the Wonder Bar, can we go there?”

Ema agreed – better there than Megabucks International or whatever it was called. It was where Klavier would purchase his (and occasionally her, if he was in a particularly generous mood) coffee, and always had a distinct scent she couldn’t quite put her finger on (but did not like). The two walked, Ema absently chatting about her day so far. They were seated quickly by a boy not much older than Trucy, who knew her name and smiled warmly at her.

“Ah. Is that the reason Apollo called me?” Ema smirked.

Trucy flushed. “What?”

“That boy. He seems friendly.” Ema replied absently. “Apollo said you had girl stuff going on. Is he the source of it?”

Trucy sighed. “Not the only source.”

The boy appeared again. “Hey, Trucy, you want your usual, yeah? On the house.” He grinned at her, and smiled back, her face warming a little. “And, for you, miss?”

Ema gave Trucy a look, glancing at the menu. “A latte would be great, thanks. Oh, and maybe a slice of the chocolate cake – want anything, Trucy?”

“Maybe...maybe the jam tart?” Trucy suggested shyly.

The boy nodded approvingly. “My personal favourite, Truce. Great choice.” He winked at her. “I’ll be back soon with your orders!”

Trucy lowered her head to the table. “Grawwwwwr.”

“I’m not sure I see the problem.” Ema lowered her head to Trucy’s level. “You like him, and he seems to like you.”

Trucy looked up. “You don’t understand. He’s a flirt. He’s like that with everyone. See, over there?” Ema glanced over at the table, where the same boy appeared to be charming the two young women there. “That’s one of the reasons this place is so popular with everyone at school. Well. The girls, anyway.”

Ema didn’t respond for a moment, processing what she knew. “You said he wasn’t the only source. What’s the other issue?”

Trucy made a face. “I...it’s embarrassing.”

“All the best girl talk is.” Ema smiled slightly.

Trucy sighed. “I just...other girls in my class...” She looked down at herself, before looking up at Ema. “They...”

“Are you worried about your figure?” Ema asked delicately.

Trucy looked down again, then at Ema’s chest, before nodding sadly. “I know, I know, everyone develops at different times, but...it’d be good if it could happen a little bit faster...”

Ema laughed. “I thought the same thing when I was your age, maybe even a little bit older. I swear, every girl in my class...I would’ve done anything to be like them, anything. But, hey, I did ok?”

Trucy smiled reluctantly. “I knew you’d say something like that.”

“Just don’t do what one girl in my class did.”

Trucy looked at her expectantly.

Ema leaned over and said very softly. “She stuffed.”

“Who would do that? Why would anyone think that’s a good idea?!” She laughed.

Ema fought both blush and memory. “Yeah. Learn from her mistakes. It was kinda obvious when one day she had nothing, and then the next day...”

Trucy grinned.”I don’t think I’d ever do that, I mean, it’s just dumb...”

“Yes, well.” Ema coughed a little. “I’m sure she realised, eventually.” She brushed a hair behind her ear. “It’s one of those things we can’t fix, but...it will happen, I promise.”

“Just be patient?”

“Just be patient. One of the most irritating pieces of advice ever.”

“But you tried. Thank you.” Trucy smiled. “I don’t think Daddy or Apollo, or even Mr Edgeworth, would be much good...and Mommy is still on tour...”

Ema nodded. “When does she come home?”

“Next month, but I think she’s gonna get delayed again.”

Ema nodded again, sadly. Lamiroir continued to be told by her management to extend the tour so that they could all reap the rewards, but it seemed not to be paying off for Trucy. “So. One down. One we’re not sure about. Anything else you need a girl opinion on?”

Trucy tipped her head. “I...no, not right now, but...can I call you, if there is anything?”

Ema smiled. “Of course – you can even come and stay, if you need to. Growing up in a testosterone filled environment can’t be good for you.” She made a face. “I can’t promise to be much help, of course...”

“I think you’ll be better than Daddy, he tries to palm me off onto Mr Edgeworth.” Trucy passed Ema her phone.

Ema laughed, just as the boy returned. He put down their order, smiling warmly at Trucy. “Hey, Truce, are you working tomorrow night?” Ema got the feeling that she should somehow disappear, and busied herself with Trucy’s phone.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a show.”

He attempted to feign a casual interest, but it was clear that he was at least a little nervous. “You wanna...hang out afterwards? I’ve got the late shift here, but we could, like, catch a movie, or something?”

Trucy blushed. “That...that could be good, yeah, ok.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Awesome.” He took their bill and scribbled something on the back. “That’s my number. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah...I’ll...I’ll call you and let you know.” She smiled warmly, taking the bill from his hand, allowing her fingers to linger over his. He blushed lightly, releasing the bill reluctantly.

With a raise of his hand, he retreated, and Trucy couldn’t help but note the way he high-fived his friends.

“And I really thought you needed my help...” Ema smirked, returning Trucy’s phone.

Trucy blushed deeply. “I’m not allowed to do any kind of victory dance yet, am I?”

“Not yet. Wait until we’re out of sight.” She sipped at her latte – worth the wait, definitely. “So. Feeling better?”

She nodded. “So much better.” She idly opened the bill – written in large letters was No charge for pretty girls – Will x Beneath that was a cell phone number. Trucy sighed happily. “Could he be any more romantic?”

Yes, Ema thought privately. But, then again, as a teenager, this probably would’ve been the height of romance. At her stage in life, romance was flowers, candlelit dinners, dancing...or rather, it should’ve been. The closest she got to romance these days was when someone bought her a drink in a club (and even then he was usually miffed when she didn’t see this as any kind of contract). To Trucy she smiled, happy to see her back to her normal self.

“Ema?”

“Mmm?”

“...is something going on between you and Prosecutor Gavin?”

Ema raised her eyebrows. “What?” She took another sip of her latte. “Have you heard rumours about that? I get enough hatemail from his fans as it is, if the rumour is actually going around that we’re together, I won’t be safe...I won’t be able to go anywhere...I thought it was just a few fans independently coming to their own, terribly formed conclusions.”

“No, no, I haven’t heard anything, it’s just that...well, he always seems to treat you differently to all the other girls...”

“That’s just because I don’t fawn all over him.” Ema smiled, before she realised she was talking to a girl who was quite the fan of the Gavinners, and who had been very upset when they broke up. “I mean, he’s excellent at what he does, of course, but I’m not in awe of him.” She paused again. “It’s not that I don’t like him, I just don’t understand what the obsession is for everyone.”

“You get hatemail?” Trucy frowned, apparently not paying attention to what Ema had just said.

“Well, they see me on the scene of the crime, they see him, they see us talking...they see him trying to steal my Snackoos, they see him trying to make me laugh...sometimes they see him succeed...Apparently I am a threat to fangirls.”

She poked at her chocolate cake, suddenly not really in the mood for it. It was almost as if she hadn’t really realised what she was until then. She didn’t like the idea of being a threat, she wanted to tell these girls they were welcome to the rockstar prosecutor – she could just about deal with spending her working life with him, she wouldn’t cope with spending her personal life with him too.

“Are you alright, Ema?”

“I’m alright, Trucy, I just don’t like the way Klavier Gavin appears to be able to have so much influence on my life.” She looked off into the distance, the cogs in her mind turning.

Trucy made a decision.

---

“Magical Fräulein, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Klavier smiled warmly.

“I spent the day with Ema.” Trucy offered, closing the door to his office behind her. “She really helped me with something, and I want to thank her.”

Klavier frowned. “A noble intention, kleines, but why come to me?”

“Well...” Trucy sighed, leaning against his desk. “A lot of your fans...think there’s something between you and Ema.”

His expression was unreadable. “Ah.” He stood up, surveying the guitars on the walls, before moving to look out of his window. “And this troubles her.”

“A little, yes, but...I think it’s more that...your fans...” Trucy faltered. “Apparently she gets hatemail.”

Klavier spun to face her. “What?”

“Well, some of your fans...I mean, they think you’re an item...they see Ema as a threat.”

He stroked his chin. “Of course. Of course they do. Any beautiful fräulein in my presence...especially as often as she is...of course they think she is meine fräulein...” He sighed. “Poor, poor Ema.”

It was the first time Trucy had heard him use Ema’s name, and it threw her – he’d managed to slip a lot of affection into two syllables. He turned to her, warmth in his eyes. “Thank you, I shall remedy this situation, Ema shall suffer no longer because of this.”

Trucy nodded. “I knew you’d help.” She beamed. “Bye, Mr Gavin!”

“Auf wiedersehen.” He closed the door after her, before picking up the phone, and dialling the number of the only reporter he trusted.

Ema’s phone rang quite early that morning.

She sighed, having just been contemplating the glory of a lie-in. Prosecutor Gavin was calling her, why? She flipped the phone open. “Sir?”

“Fräulein Ema, I fear I have done you a disservice.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “...what’s happened?”

“Herr Forehead’s sister came to see me yesterday...she spoke of the way in which my fans treat you. I acted with the best of intentions, Ich entschuldige mich...”

“That’s not telling me what’s happened, Gavin.” She growled through gritted teeth, tugging a dressing gown over her nightdress and going to her window. She looked outside – there appeared to be a group of reporters. “What the Hell did you do? The paparazzi have invaded my street! My neighbours already dislike me, I don’t need this too...”

“I...gave an exclusive interview...explaining that although I value you as a friend, the two of us are not romantically entwined. And that I would appreciate it if my fans would respect this, and leave you be.”

“...it didn’t occur to you that they might want to ask me how I feel, being rejected by a rock god? Or that some of your fans would simply think it’s a ruse, and that you’re trying to protect me?” She was fuming. “Or is this just a publicity stunt? The Gavinners have broken up now, but you want to stay in the spotlight...you make me sick, Klavier Gavin!”

“Ema...” He sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’ll remove the press from my doorstep!”

“You may have the day off – “

“Are you kidding? Heartbroken detective cannot face work after given cold shoulder by star prosecutor! Not seen leaving her house, questions raised over her health! No, I’ll be in.”

“...would you like an escort?”

“From you?! Yeah, yeah, that’ll shut them up.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ll find a way in.”

“I meant from the police...”

“...we’ll see.” She sighed deeply. “I’ll call the precinct if I need them.”

“...I am truly sorry, Ema.” He said softly as she closed the phone, and for once, Ema believed him.

She buried her head in her pillows. “Damn you, Klavier Gavin.”

- - -

By the time she was dressed for work, the crowd had doubled. Tripled after her breakfast. Quadrupled by the time she was actually leaving her apartment. She winced inwardly. Surely there was some real news somewhere?

“Ema! Ema! How do you feel about being snubbed by the most desirable man on the planet?”

“Ema! Are you angry with him?”

“Do you love him, Ema?”

“Ema, look this way, give me a smile!”

“Ema, did you really think you could keep the notorious playboy’s heart?”

“Ema, Ema, kiss and tell!”

“Ema! Ema! Ema!”

She had never, even as a child, wanted to be famous – not in this way, anyway, maybe she could have a chemical or theory named after her – and this was fast becoming her idea of hell. She found her scooter, tugged her helmet on, and hoped for the best.

They followed, of course, at a respectable distance (apparently they had learnt some things over the years – dead stars sell papers, but not so much when it’s the paper’s fault – besides, she wasn’t a star), and she saw many a camera flash as they pulled into the parking lot. She took off her helmet and shook out her hair – ah. That one was definitely caught on film. Gathering all of her pride, she walked, head held high, into the entrance of the precinct, hearing even more questions, each one becoming more personal than the last.

“Was it because you wouldn’t admit to being with him in public, Ema?”

“Ema, did he get bored of you?”

“Ema, he was too much for you, wasn’t he?”

“Ema, is there someone else?”

“Ema, you couldn’t handle him, could you?”

She rushed through, thankful of the police guard. But even here, it wasn’t a safehaven. She could hear whispers – “I always wondered about the two of them...”

“She always turned him down so coldly.”

“She was downright rude to him.”

“Talk about hiding your feelings...”

“Poor Ema, she must be heartbroken.”

“Poor Klavier, to be associated with her...”

She resolved not to cry until she got to her office, but it was proving more and more difficult. With every step she took she could hear people talking about her. She resolutely looked ahead, deciding to take the stairs up to her office.

She got into the stairwell – windowless, and empty. She walked to the gap below the steps, a dark spot if ever there was one. She slipped down the wall, hugging her knees, and pressing her head against her knees. What had she done wrong? She hated people talking about her – well, who didn’t? Oh. Klavier Gavin. That’d be who didn’t.

She had just been telling Trucy how much she hated the control Klavier seemed to have over her life. And Trucy, in a beautifully naive and sweet way, had tried to fix this.

And made it so much worse. It made a lot more difficult to be angry with anyone, too, since guilt outweighed anger every time.

She breathed deeply, before pulling herself to her feet. If she was found here...well. They’d make something of it. Something huge.

She walked up the stairs, taking the longer but quieter route to her office, through traffic affairs and the publicity division. She finally got to her office, and collapsed into her chair. “I hate my life.” She whimpered, looking at the pile of paperwork she’d have to do.

Of course, it made sense – going to a crime scene today wasn’t going to happen, not for her. She had to be on desk duty for quite a while. It was, really, a bright move, on the part of the police department. She was impressed by how quickly they'd did it - clearly the public relations department was most efficient.

“...Ema.”

She opened her eyes, and saw Klavier in the doorway.

“Stay there, Klavier, for your own good.” She warned. “You are the last person I want to see.” Her office wasn’t large, and he was in danger enough at that distance. Any closer and she didn’t want to think about what she’d do.

“I...didn’t anticipate this.” He stayed where he was, not underestimating her anger. “If I had, I would not have acted.”

“You’ve been a star for years, how did you not anticipate this? Surely this has happened to past girlfriends.”

“There haven’t been any.” He replied quietly. “Not for the press. I was careful.”

“But now, you’re not.”

“Having a more public job has lead to certain sacrifices, apparently my privacy is one of those.”

“And my privacy, apparently.” Ema held her head in her hands, trying to fight back tears. She hated herself for letting this get to her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, all of the publicity and the press reminded her of that case, which had been very high profile. Of course, this was different – the press seemed to have it in for her. And her alone.

“Make a statement.” Klavier suggested. “My PR man is sehr gut.”

She removed her hands. “You mean give in? No way. They’re not getting anything from me.”

“Ema, it is a game, if you simply play – “ He stepped forward, but on receipt of her death glare he stopped.

“This may be some kind of game to you, Gavin, but it is nothing of the sort for me. I am being hounded. Because of you.” She bit her lip.

He hung his head. “I cannot apologise enough – “

“No matter how many times you do it, it won’t make them go away. There’s nothing you can do.” She sighed. “Everyone here seems to think this is because you think I hate you, or something, because I treat you badly. I don’t, do I? I just...don’t worship the ground you work on.”

“Some would say that is the same thing.” He replied airily, not looking at her. When he finally did, he groaned in frustration. “No, Detective Skye, I knew you did not hate me, I do not believe you treat me badly.”

“No need for the past tense.” She muttered. “I don’t hate you. I just hate what’s happening.”

Klavier didn’t respond to this, instead he changed the subject – “Surely your phone should be ringing off the hook?”

“I’ve turned it off.” She replied bluntly. “And I have work to do.”

“We shall not be investigating a crime scene together for quite some time.”

“No. I doubt I will ever investigate a crime scene again.” She sighed deeply – registering somewhere in the back of her mind that she was being melodramatic.

“I shall miss you.” He spoke softly, but she heard every word. “I do not think any case will be as strong without you.” He paused. “I could bring you samples, you could analyse them...?”

“I hardly think that’s a good idea. Besides, we have a lab for that.” She opened the nearest file. “Please, Klavier, just go. Don’t...don’t come here again. Or anywhere else where I am.”

“You are asking me to stay away from you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

- - -

Trucy was beside herself with guilt.

Apollo, Phoenix and even Edgeworth had tried to offer her some comfort, but it wasn’t happening. Nothing could help her.

True to her performer’s spirit, she went on with the show – it went remarkably well, considering, and most people there seemed pleased enough.

It was after the show that was the problem.

Will met her at the stage door, and as much as she tried to force a smile, it quickly became obvious that something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“...it’s...I let someone down. In...a really big way. And I didn’t realise I was doing it. And I can’t do anything to make it right. And I can’t get in contact with them.” She sighed. “I really screwed up.”

Will smiled sympathetically, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure a movie will help take your mind off things.”

She nodded, torn between enjoying the contact and being reminded of what had lead to this date in the first place.

- - -

Ema’s journey home was as turbulent as her one to work. Her neighbours were sizing her up as she fought her way into the building, each of them regarding her with some level of suspicion and judgement. She tried to meet their eyes, to remain strong despite all of this. She managed it, most of the time.

Inside her door, she went to her bedroom, and hid under the covers, trying to work things out in her head. What should she do? What could she do?

The only answer was to call Lana.

She winced as she turned her phone on – text message after text message, and her voicemail was full of people she hadn’t spoken to in a long time, each expressing how sorry they were that Klavier could be so cruel to break her heart in public like this. The only texts she read were from Trucy (long and apologetic), Phoenix (full of support) and Apollo (full of badly spelt support). She dialled Lana’s number, and prayed that her sister was available.

“Ema, I wondered when you’d call.”

“You know everything?”

“I keep up to date with the news. How are you?”

Ema laughed mirthlessly. “You can guess. What am I going to do, Lana? Is there anything I can do, other than just ignore it until it blows over?”

“You have two options, I think. Ignore it, or embrace it.”

“...embrace it? Lana, are you mad?”

“Hear me out, Ema. You give one exclusive interview, on the understanding that the press will leave you alone after this.”

Ema laughed bitterly. “It’s the press, Lana, there’s no way – “

“You forget your friends in high places. Friends who can remove journalistic licences, if need be.” Lana’s tone changed slightly. “You have to recall Ema, you’re not worth losing a badge over. You are only in the news because of one statement.”

Ema hadn’t expected that to hurt, but it did. And then there was the other feeling that was creeping over her, the one that she had been trying to ignore. “Lana, do you think that...” She broke off, knowing that her sister would probably know what she was about to say.

“What I don’t know, Ema, are the circumstances that lead to him making this statement.” Lana replied evenly.

“I mentioned to Trucy that I got hatemail from his fangirls, and she went to see him about that. Some of his local fans thought we were together, probably just because they’d seen us together. I think he was trying to remedy the situation.” She sighed. “Well. No. I know he was trying to remedy the situation, he told me as much this morning. When he called. And again in my office.”

Lana made a small noise of thought. “He certainly wants the best for you.”

“Apparently...”

“He seems to care about you.”

“Or he’s covering for his mistakes. I don’t know what to think.” Ema paused. “But I do think he really is sorry. I don’t think he wanted me hurt. He acted with my best interests at heart...” She sighed. “And...when he’s being a human being...not an ego on legs...he’s...really nice.”

“Really nice?”

Ema whimpered slightly. “Yeah. Like Mr Edgeworth was really nice.”

“...oh, Ema.” Lana sighed. “You and prosecutors.”

Ema pouted. “This is just...I don’t know. But...I want to know the truth of it. I want to know if...Ugh!”

“Do you want him to be interested in you, Ema?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s any more than just a little crush. It’d be...nice.” She looked out of the window, seeing her reflection. It didn’t make sense, in many ways – she was pretty (sometimes even beautiful), smart, funny, confident...surely, logically, she should at least have someone interested in her, even if she wasn’t really seeing someone?

She could hear Lana’s sympathetic smile over the phone, probably remembering the time before she and Jake Marshall had begun dating (a very, very long time ago now). “You deserve more than nice, Ema.”

“Thanks.”

Lana glanced at the clock. Damn. “I have to go, but if you need me, you know where I am – just text me and I can be there in about ten minutes.”

Ema smiled genuinely for one of the first times that day. Jake’s apartment was ten minutes away from hers, whilst Lana’s own was more like half an hour away. “Thanks, Lana.” Ema closed her phone. She cautiously got up, and looked through the window – some had left, but most were still outside. She cursed her boss, not for the first time, for being amongst the most famous men alive at that time.

For the first time in her life, Ema willed disasters onto the world. Nothing too serious, nobody should die, but maybe just a little bit of hurt could work. Just enough to call the press away, so that she could happily get on with being yesterday’s news.

She wondered how long it would be until she could do anything that wasn’t paperwork. Or hiding in her apartment.

She wondered when she could get her life back.

Scenarios played out in her mind. If she went to see Trucy, she’d probably get a picture taken of her, being greeted by...Apollo, maybe? He spent most of his time there, it was likely he’d be around. That’d be pretty bad, since they’d faced one another in court so many times. Of course, being greeted by Phoenix would be worse – after Klavier had been the one to strip him of his attorney’s badge.

She buried her head in the pillow again. “Damn. Him.”

- - -

“Well, you can’t deny the publicity. Your album sales have doubled.” Jacob Mallaine smiled hopefully at his client. “And the lady seems to be dealing with it.”

“She is coping.” Klavier replied icily. “This does not make it alright.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t think this might happen.”

“I was eager to prevent her suffering...” Klavier appreciated the irony in his words only too late. “I know you can fix this, Mallaine.”

Mallaine shook his head. “Nothing I can do – well. Not a lot. The press have the scent of a story. Any further press releases will add fuel to the fire. I’ll do as much as I can to present her in a good light.”

Klavier slammed his hands on the desk. “What other light could she possibly be presented in?”

Mallaine muttered something which sounded suspiciously like “Yoko Ono.”

Klavier uttered a string of German obscenities, making Mallaine more than happy that he only spoke English and Bullshit. He glared angrily. “I will not have a word said against her. She has suffered enough. Do what you have to do.”

Klavier Gavin’s secret name – and all of Mallaine’s clients had them – was Scary German Man. This was due to moments like this. They were fairly rare, but when they happened, they left quite the impression.

“Leave!” Klavier barked, something Mallaine was only too happy to do. He had quite a few calls to make, many a string to pull, to keep one of his most profitable clients happy.

Klavier sighed deeply, wishing (more than anything) to call Ema and apologise again, but knowing damn well that no good would come of it.

He did what any good musician would do, and grabbed his guitar, some paper, and a pen. Inspiration struck at the most inappropriate moments. She’d never forgive him if he made any money out of this.
Maybe this song would just be for her, then.

He began to write, not really thinking of the words until he was finished. It happened when he wrote, sometimes, where he seemed to slip into a quasi-trance, and wasn’t entirely certain of what he had written until afterwards.

The song was mostly an apology, filled with regret for what she’d been put through.

But there was an underlying element, not completely obvious, but through his wordplay...

It was an apology for a lie.

The next morning felt much the same as the previous one, without the phone call. Her phone had been off overnight, and would remain off until she desperately needed it.

Part of her wanted to see that morning’s papers, just to see how big this story was. She satisfied herself with checking the news online. She wasn’t quite the leading story – not anymore – but there were some snippets here and there, actual pictures of her. To her surprise, most painted her in a flattering light. Not a light she wanted to be in, of course, since they painted her as a poor victim of Klavier’s charms, a girl lead on by her boss, who had intended to publicly humiliate her. Poor girl.

Not what she wanted, but it was less hideous than the alternative.

The article detailed the way in which nothing could’ve kept him happy, let alone this poor, sweet innocent girl, who had only made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man.

Ugh.

Different questions today, then.

“Ema! Did he really lead you on?”

“Ema, do you feel betrayed?”

“Do you hate him, Ema?”

And then suddenly that became the main question. It followed her everywhere she went. They all called it. She broke.

“No. No, I don’t hate him.”

She knew it was a mistake the moment she’d said it. She’d given an inch, and she knew they were after the mile now. She bit her lip, and did her best to ignore everything for the rest of her journey, especially the rest of the day.

- - -

Klavier was struck by how stunning Ema looked first thing in the morning – or rather, first thing at work. He was captivated by the picture of her just after she’d pulled her helmet off, caught in the act of shaking her hair out.

He cursed himself once again – he couldn’t see her again, not for quite some time, and this would be problematic on a professional and personal level. He had been telling the truth when he had told her that his case would not be as strong – she was the best detective he had, possibly the best on the force, even if she did occasionally assist Apollo more than he preferred.

As for the personal level...

He looked at the picture again, and swallowed hard. Women weren’t meant to have this effect on him. He was meant to have this effect on women.

And she thought that...

Actually, he doubted it had crossed her mind. She was more likely to be angry at the paparazzi, not agonizing over his public “rejection”.

He cursed the office that he had to use during his time in the precinct; it was one of a few that prosecutors used when they had to go over case data that couldn’t leave the department yet, and because of this they had no customisation, simply boring boxes. Klavier was of the opinion that all interior decor could be improved with guitars, but his suggestion had been shot down. He looked at the evidence he had before him, hoping something would come to light – but the picture in the newspaper was distracting him again.

His phone rang – one of the few times he hadn’t wanted to hear Guilty Love. “Ja?”

“She spoke to the press.”

Klavier held his breath.

“But only one sentence.”

He didn’t respond.

“Just that she doesn’t hate you.”

He exhaled. “I knew that.”

“And now the press does, too.”

Klavier paused to attempt to think through the ramifications. The gutter press would probably spin it as a confession of love. They’d paint him as the playboy, the womanizer. He’d been trying to avoid giving them any evidence of this – speculation had been rife, but without anything concrete (and his legal prowess) the press hadn’t dared publish anything libellous.

And it was possible – just possible – that he’d given them enough.

Another fountain of German expletives.

“No, no, I don’t think it’s enough for them to start printing anything detrimental to you. They know what would happen if they did. Ms Skye’s feelings are not enough grounds to build a case.”

Klavier remained silent, not completely sure. In a court of law it wasn’t enough, but the media had a law unto itself.

“Call me with any new information.” Klavier replied shortly, hanging up.

He was in court tomorrow morning, but... He breathed deeply. He could hardly bring himself to prepare his case. Maybe he could pass it on to a fellow prosecutor? It wouldn’t take long to prep them.

But was that showing weakness? He had a horrible feeling that Ema would be angry with him if he failed to sufficiently prosecute the case. She had worked hard to find all the evidence she could, despite the fact that it was a desperately boring case.

He sighed, feeling that there wasn’t much he could do.

“Prosecutor Gavin?”

He glanced up. “Come in, Ema.” He replied softly.

She entered. “I still had some of the paperwork for your case tomorrow.” She placed it on his desk, closing the door behind her. She seemed oddly shy, perhaps due to their altercation yesterday. At least she didn’t look like she was going to try and set fire to him using her mind anymore.

“How are you, Ema?” Klavier asked, ignoring the paperwork.

She shrugged. “At least the press is kind to me. They’re demonising you a little, but...well. I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

Klavier nodded. “Good. Mallaine can do his job properly.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. “I tugged a few strings. Well. Mallaine did. To ensure you were not presented badly.”

She bit her lip. “You didn’t have to. I could’ve handled it.”

Klavier shook his head. “No. You have never seen what the press can do, not first hand.”

She had to concede to this. “Thank you, then.”

Klavier shook his head. “The least I could do, fräulein, the least I could do.”

She leaned against his desk. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that since this mess began.”

“Is it? My apologies. I did not realise you held such affection for it.”

“It’s more that I know something is wrong when you use my name...”

He chuckled, feeling like they were back to normal, just for a few moments. “Dear fräulein, I shall avoid your name, if I can.”

“You know, some women are offended if you call them fräuleins.”

“Are you one of them?”

She paused thoughtfully. “I don’t believe so. Although I don’t particularly enjoy being called a girl.”

“Then I shall make sure I treat you as a woman.” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s the kind of thing that got us into this mess.”

She instantly regretted saying that.

“I use fräulein as an affectionate term, Ema.” He explained warmly, apparently skating over her reference to their current situation.

She smiled, relief showing on her face. She looked at the file. “There’s a summary on the first page – I knew you wouldn’t have time to read the entire thing. I’ve folded over the corners of the more important sections. I think those’ll be the parts that Apollo will pick up on.” She paused. “Oh, and...he’s convinced she didn’t do it.”

Klavier nodded. “I didn’t think she did it. But I’m still not sure why the detective framed her.”

Ema shrugged. “He likes blondes. The defendant is blonde. I don’t think blondes like him.”

“...have you passed this information on to Herr Forehead?”

She smiled. “I didn’t spell it out, but I think he got it.”

“Did you need to spell it out for me?”

“You have a lot to deal with at the moment.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s one detail. I can’t tell you much else.”

Klavier met her eyes. “You are a good friend, Ema, and a good detective.” It struck him how much he meant that – when it was just them with little else to distract them, they found themselves having long, winding conversations, sharing odd details and idiosyncrasies.

She dropped his gaze, guilt overwhelming her. “I spoke to the press.”

“I know. Simply that you did not hate me.”

“They kept asking me. Over and over again. Did I hate you. I couldn’t...” She stopped short, still not looking at him – although he watched her intently.

“I am impressed it took that much. It was only through bodyguards that most of the Gavinners didn’t speak to the press.”

“Perhaps you should provide me with a bodyguard.” She looked back up at him, a spark in her eyes.

“Would you like me to?” He asked seriously.

She laughed softly. “No, no, but thank you.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to be going. Too long in here could get me in trouble.”

He nodded sagely. “My door is always open to you, dear Ema.”

She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. “Goodbye, Klavier.” She left him alone, leaving him to muse on how the last few minutes had brought him more peace and comfort than he had felt in a long time.

He began to wish he had his guitar with him. Inspiration was striking again.

- - -

Trucy’s guilt had not abated.

She read the papers on her way to school, wincing at every line. Sure, they were being kind to Ema, but to Prosecutor Gavin...nothing was explicitly said, but the implications were less than kind. She didn’t like this –it wasn’t him, he was nice. He was a good man.

But, of course, if she had to take a side, it would most certainly be Ema’s.

Will sat down beside her on the bus. “Hey, Truce.” He flashed her one of his more gorgeous grins, and her heart began to beat a little faster. “Ah, Klavier Gavin...legendary rocker.”

Trucy nodded. “I’ve seen him live a couple of times – he’s really good.”

Will leaned over to read the story. “Pity about the way he treated her, though. It’s not fair to lead girls on like that.”

Trucy raised her eyebrows. “So it’s totally different when you flirt with all the girls at work?”

He laughed. “I need some good tips, Truce. Does it bother you?”

She looked down. “It just confused me, that’s all. I didn’t know if you were just flirting with me like you flirted with everyone, or...”

“Ahhh.” Will smiled warmly. “No worries, Truce, you’re special.”

She looked at him, and wasn’t quite sure if that made her feel better or not.

- - -

The precinct, at least, had stopped buzzing in regards to Ema. Instead there were whispers about Maggey Byrde visiting Dick Gumshoe at his desk, supposedly bringing him some lunch. Gumshoe’s crush had been obvious to everyone, but this was the first time that it seemed it was being returned. Much more interesting than yesterday’s news.

Her colleagues spoke to Ema today, as opposed to speaking at her which they had yesterday. Most prefaced their conversation with a brief reference to how crazy things were outside, or how ridiculous it was that one comment could cause such commotion. One less than tactful detective commented on it being laughable that any of Klavier’s fangirls believed her to be a threat. After this, her colleagues seemed to consider the matter dealt with.

Those she had considered friends were more sympathetic. They had known that she had received various mailings from fangirls, usually fairly benign but occasionally scary. It was these people Ema revealed the full story to, and these were the ones who offered her spare rooms, or at least a hug.

The mail had worsened.

The amount had tripled, and the intensity increased. She was informed later that half had not made it through the checks – within these letters there were cruel words, but within the others there lay threatening substances. She didn’t read them, per se, just glanced at them and gleaned that they were letters from fans, nothing from anyone that mattered.

And they’d been the beginning of this entire mess.

But at least work was getting back to normal, even if she was cooped up in the office. Better that than be attacked by angry, probably rabid fangirls.

Her journey home was quieter than previously – from what she could gather, a starlet on the other side of town had been seen with another woman, and that was far, far more interesting. Ema had to agree, and was deeply grateful that the press had found a new target. There were still a few reporters and photographers around, but nowhere near as many as before.

Maybe in a couple of days she’d be able to leave the house without fear of causing a new story to break.

It was only after she got through her door that she realised she hadn’t asked Klavier how he was dealing with this.

Her phone sat in her hand, his number up on the screen. The green call button was asking her to press it.

She bit her lip, putting the phone down and walking over to the kettle – she needed coffee.

- - -

“Nein, nein, I have said all I will on the matter.” Klavier waved the reporter away with a flick of his wrist. “Please. Leave.”

As much as Klavier Gavin didn’t like it to look like he had a bodyguard, a couple of the friends who had appeared to gather around him at the sight of press were, in fact, trained to do what they had to in order to protect him. That evening they would be staying at Klavier’s impressive penthouse apartment, drinking beer with him and reflecting on some of the finer aspects of work.

What they hadn’t been expecting – and, really, neither had Klavier – was a phone call, around midnight.

Not least from Ema Skye.

Klavier answered the phone, moving to his bedroom. “Ema?”

“I...just realised that I hadn’t asked you...how you were...”

“...Ema, have you been drinking?”

“...a little, yes.”

Her voice was only slightly slurred, but it was enough to inform Klavier that this wasn’t the best time for conversation. Of course, he couldn’t really judge, given that he, too, had imbibed that evening. “Perhaps we should speak when sober.”

“I only want to know how you are!”

Still stubborn when drinking. Good to know. “I am alright, Ema.”

“What...what about the press? Are they being mean to you?”

He closed his eyes. She was strangely adorable when drunk. “They wouldn’t dare bother me too much.”

He heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “Good. Good.”

“I think you should probably go to bed now, liebling.”

“What does that mean?”

“....drunken female detective.” Klavier hoped that a detective that had been drinking was easier to fool than a sober one. Scientifically speaking...

She giggled. “German has so many words... such silly ones... night night, Mr Gavin.”

“Klavier.” He replied gently.

He heard her release a happy sigh. “Klavier.” And then just the dial tone as she hung up on him.

“Guten nacht, liebling.” He shook his head. This really wasn’t meant to happen to him.

He could do with another beer. Sauntering through from the bedroom, all three men fixed their eyes on him, eyebrows raised.

“Drunken phone calls.” Klavier replied mysteriously, rolling his eyes. “An ex girlfriend, apparently she is jealous of the good detective.”

A small “aaaah” of understanding passed around the room as Klavier went to the fridge to get another beer (and to briefly consider if it was a good or bad thing that his bodyguards were so easily deceived).

- - -

It was late at night when he was alone, that was when he really began to think things through.

He had made a mistake, a definite mistake, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

On the upside, she seemed to be understanding – at least, she had accepted that there was nothing he could do (she had, in fact, told him as much).

But she also didn’t really know the depth of his mistake.

He got up and out of bed – sleep wasn’t going to come to him any time in the near future. In the halflight he wandered to the window, looking out across the city. Bright lights continued to shine like stars, forming constellations of late night cafes, bars and more.

Of course, that wasn’t going to help him get his head straight.

Turning away, he sat on his bed.

It was time to go through the facts.

Fact one – she affected him more than any other woman he’d ever known. It wasn’t that she intended to, it was just that whatever she did seemed to have some influence over him and his life. In court, and now in his personal life.

Fact two – she didn’t hate him. And she never had. It wasn’t much of an indication of her feelings for him, but it was better than nothing.

Fact three – he’d really enjoyed her company that afternoon, and it seemed that she had, too.

Fact four – actually, he’d always really enjoyed her company. Even when she’d seen it fit to put him in his place by not fawning all over him. Especially when they had, almost accidentally, stumbled onto common ground and enjoyable conversation.

Fact five – she’d called. Despite the fact that it was a terrible idea. And she’d gone to see him – she could easily have sent a lower-ranking colleague with the case reports. And the way she’d marked the case –

He hadn’t looked at it yet.

Moving nonchalantly from his room to his study, he found the file easily. He read Ema’s summary – very useful, including references to various parts of the document if he wished for clarification. He shook his head – she was thorough in everything she did. Going through the pages, her neat script was present more often than not – just adding clarification to odd phrases, or her own wry comments.

He was touched. More than he knew he should be.

“...verfluchte fräulein.”

Ema’s morning was almost entirely uninterrupted, and it was bliss.

A couple of reporters just watching to see if she seemed unduly upset, or whether a man was seen leaving with her, but most of them had left, presumably due to the excitement on the other side of town. Someone people had actually heard of had been found cheating on his (or maybe her, she wasn’t sure – she really didn’t follow the trends of celebrity) significant other with another girl – another person they had heard of.

Not much sense trailing around a nobody who had just so happened to know a rockstar now.

She arrived at work, to see a particularly tender scene between Maggey and Gumshoe, some sort of awkward goodbye at his desk. “Awww.” She said to nobody in particular, and was quickly filled in on the details – it seemed that Maggey was delivering meals to Gumshoe up to three times a day, and appeared to be attempting to try and wean him off his diet of instant noodles.

Satisfied that she really was off the hook – that it was all over – she used the lift to go to her office.

Just as she stepped in, Klavier Gavin stepped out. The two exchanged a brief smile. “Good luck in court, Prosecutor.”

“And enjoy your desk work, detective.” He teased, a sparkle in his eyes.

The doors closed, and Ema noted the other occupants of the lift staring at her.

“...well, shit.” She muttered, not enjoying the awkward silence that had descended as the lift ascended. She muttered something worse when she heard the whispers start after she left.

At least her colleagues wouldn’t be taking pictures or printing newspapers. Besides, there was actual evidence for Maggey and Gumshoe.

Although that in itself could provide more interest in herself and Klavier.

She wondered, briefly, when she had begun to think of him not as the hideous prosecutor who made her life hell, and begun to think of him as Klavier Gavin, something of a confidant, maybe even something approaching a friend.

...it was probably around the time when she had accepted the fact that she was attracted to him, despite her denial for a long time. Accepting it was meant to make it better – yes, she was attracted to him, but she was attracted to quite a few people. Most notably Miles Edgeworth, to some extent Kristoph Gavin (until he had proved himself to be somewhat evil), Phoenix Wright...even Apollo, on the right day. These feelings didn’t interfere with her relationships with them; she could simply accept that, yes, given the chance, she wouldn’t mind sharing (at the very least) a kiss with any of them.

Although with Klavier Gavin her very least was not so much sharing a kiss as sharing a bed.

But she had written this off as just finding him more attractive than she had the others – it made sense, she found Phoenix more attractive than Apollo, she found Edgeworth more attractive than the two put together.

...of course, putting all of them together and adding all of her high-school crushes (and some of her university ones, actually) only just equated to the attraction she held toward Klavier.

Sheer willpower was all that prevented her from smashing her head against the desk in response to the mess that was her life.

It was with this thought that she sobered. What was thinking? There were worse things out there than idle gossip. Half of the reports she was editing and writing up involved murder, stalking, theft, mutilation. Life could be worse. A lot worse.

This worked for a few minutes, then self-pity took over again.

Desk work did not suit her, she knew this to be true. It was slow going, ensuring that the right boxes had been ticked (and ticking them when need be), labelling the evidence that needed to be included, and indicating the lack of evidence in certain cases.

“Ema? We’re gonna go down to the courthouse, to watch Prosecutor Gavin in action. Wanna come?” The girl asking was one of the junior detectives, the blonde that the store detective had been so happy to help.

Part of Ema – the rational, scientific part – knew that she would’ve been asked anyway. But another part of her felt that this was some sort of test. “No, no, I’ve got a tonne of work to do.”

“You want us to give him a message?” The girl asked innocently.

Now that, that right there, that was a test.

“I already wished him luck.” Ema shrugged, hoping it was the right answer.

From the grin on the girl’s face, and the small squeal as the closed the door, it wasn’t.

- - -

The few moments before a trial were the only time when Klavier allowed himself to feel nervous. He breathed deeply, looking around for the one thing which calmed him down, his good luck charm.

...But, of course, she wasn’t there.

He couldn’t really blame her. If he was in her position, he wouldn’t want to give anyone any kind of evidence. He could understand it.

That didn’t mean he liked it, though.

The worst part was that he was going in knowing he was going to lose. The girl was innocent, and there was no way that Herr Forehead didn’t know it. And he was most certainly going to be able prove Klavier’s witness guilty.

Not for the first time, Klavier wondered why he had bothered with this case. Then again, it was a change of pace, much less serious than hideously premeditated murders, or smuggling, or anything involving injury. And it was funding a couple of hours of studio time.

Studio time he would need, since he’d already written two new songs in the last two days. Songs that would probably need to be acoustic, if they were going to send the message he wanted to send.

Not that he knew if he could actually send it, or how it would be received.

Klavier Gavin was not used to having crises of confidence.

He glanced at the clock (no reason to mar his wrist with a timepiece until he had found, or perhaps commissioned, the perfect one) and saw that the time had come for the show to begin. He glanced around the lobby – of course she wasn’t here.

But a picture of her was; one of the witnesses had left a paper, open, with Ema’s picture. That picture. The one that had knocked him for six.

It’d do.

- - -

The phone sat in her hand. It was daring her again.

...why. Why did it hold that much significance? What did it matter if she texted him or not? It didn’t have to mean anything. She’d text Apollo as well, she decided, the same message, just a simple question – how did the trial go?

It didn’t mean anything.

But she wasn’t going to send it yet.

She only had three reports left to go through – the three she’d intentionally left until the end of the day. Reports that were short and sweet, that would be low on stress for the end of her day.

Maybe when she was halfway through them...?

She held her head in her hands. She didn’t do this. She was better than this. She wasn’t reduced to this kind of self-doubt over such trivial matters. Maybe the press had somehow spread their shallowness to her, via spores, or something?

This was doing her no good at all.

She began to work on the report – it worked very well as a distraction, until she heard the noises of her colleagues returning from the trial.

“Such a pity that Prosecutor Gavin lost...”

“But he always does it so gracefully! He even clapped Apollo on the shoulder after the trial!”

“Apollo looked like he was going to fall over. I wish the boy would eat something, he’s so skinny, not a bit like Mr Wright.”

“Oh, you’ve just never gotten over your love for guys with broad shoulders...you think everyone should be like that...”

“Only real men!”

The voices died off.

Well. That gave Ema her answer for how the trial had gone.

No need to text him now, not really.

And yet she knew she was going to anyway.

Why did every crush she had have to bring out the adolescent in her?

- - -

Klavier was just about to get on his bike to return the files to the precinct when his phone went off – a text message.

He smiled, but decided not to check his phone yet - he may as well wait, the sooner he got the files to the precinct, the quicker he could go home. And relax. Everything appeared to be letting up recently.

Mounting his bike, he drove out – and found himself surrounded by fans, squealing his name. Within a few moments he was flanked by police guards. Klavier got off his bike, tugging off his helmet. “Mein loyal fans! I shall grant you three questions!” He smiled winningly, causing squeals to ripple across the crowd.

There appeared to be general discussion amongst the crowd on what it was most prudent to ask, and finally a girl who had been selected as a mouthpiece (a girl, he noted, who appeared to have copied Ema’s hairstyle, and may have been wearing a slightly stylised version of a lab coat) was lifted up. “So, erm, we were, er, wondering...what’s the real deal with you and this detective chick?”

Klavier sighed. “Miss Skye and I are colleagues, friends. It was only because she was receiving mailings from some fans – I am certain none of you, thoughtful lieblings, you could never do such a thing – mailings from some fans which were cruel and presumed too much of us. It was to relieve her stress that I set the record straight – but it appears to have backfired.” He smiled sheepishly, and could almost countdown to the soft “awwwwww” of sympathy that moved over the crowd. “She has never treated me as any more than a friend, and I have not treated her in any such a way either. Can we consider the matter at rest?” He smiled hopefully, knowing full well that his fans hung on his every word, and would do exactly what he said.

The girl was tugged back down again, presumably for further discussion and decision making. After a few moments she was lifted once more. “So, you aren’t seeing anybody?”

“Nein. I am working most hard as a prosecutor, it is unfair to expect a beautiful fräulein to understand that she cannot be the centre of my world. I would not want to waste her time.” He smiled sadly. “Perhaps later, when I have less work to do, and less writing.”

He gave them three seconds to process the information he had just “let slip”.

The girl didn’t need to be brought to conference. “Did you say you were writing? Does that mean the Gavinners are getting back together?”

Klavier’s face hardened. “Nein, nein – we shall not be getting back together, it would be wrong without Daryan. However, I am writing songs for a possible acoustic album, and our greatest hits is coming out next month.”

The crowd erupted, and Klavier replaced his helmet. Yes, very much time to go – always leave the crime wanting more.

And knowing that they won’t get any more.

Taking his leave, he drove off, hearing the screams following him as he drove to the precinct.

By the time he arrived, the rumours of the promised acoustic album and greatest hits were flying around the precinct. He smiled mysteriously at all of those who asked him about it, merely entering the lift with a brief wink.

He took the time in the lift to open his phone and read the message – and his face fell. He wasn’t completely sure why he was disappointed, there was little point in Ema texting him when he’d be returning the files to her quickly. Instead it was from an ex girlfriend. He winced slightly at the name – that hadn’t been a good one. He’d read it later.

The journey felt like it took forever, until finally the door opened – out he stepped, and found his way to Ema’s office.

Her office was always smaller than he remembered, only a little larger than the prosecutors’ office they were allowed to use. At least her office was customised, though – pictures decked the walls, and a plant lingered on the windowsill. He wasn’t quite sure how it was still alive.

He knocked on the door, and heard her permission to enter.

There was just about room for a second chair opposite the desk, which he gleefully took full advantage of – although he had to be careful not to crash into the filing cabinet. “I bring back your case file, and a fair verdict.”

She smiled. “I heard that Apollo won.”

“But it was only right.” Klavier clarified, looking at the pile of cases on her desk. “Not many left.”

“Two, now you’ve returned this one. But it won’t take long.” She flicked through it, before looking up at him. “Now, what’s this I’ve been hearing...?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Not what I expected to hear from you, fräulein.”

“Well, I’ve always thought your voice got lost in those guitar solos, but an acoustic album...” She smiled. “That could be good.”

He was surprised how much he valued her approval (although, really, he wasn’t sure why). “How have the press been?” He asked softly.

She shrugged. “Very little. I owe whoever it was who got caught cheating. Who was it?”

Klavier paused to think “...I believe... Amerine, the disco sensation?”

She looked at him blankly.

“She sang Gonna Disco Up Your Love.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“That hasn’t stopped anybody else.” He stood. “I must leave you, fräulein detective, to your paperwork – I have much to be getting on with, and many songs to pen.”

She nodded. “Make sure they make sense.”

He grinned, waving his goodbye as he left.

Well. At least she didn’t have to text him now. Even though she still wanted to.

Head, meet desk.

- - -

Finally arriving home, Klavier relaxed on the sofa – everything was falling back into place, after the unfortunate mistake earlier that week. And he was writing again – things, really, were better than they’d been previously.

Life was good.

He realised that reading the text from Lia Hardy would probably ruin it all, so he left it as long he could – waiting until he had a chilled beer on hand, just in case.

The message was very simple. It was supposedly her asking if he minded her going to the press – “You’re in the papers again, and it’d be good for my career” – but was more just her telling him that she was going to the press. And she was going to tell all.

Klavier downed the drink in one. As predicted, life was going wrong again.

And his muse had gone for a walk, again.

Or maybe she was just still in the office.

- - -

“So, how seriously do you take this rumour that Klavier is so willing to dispel – him and this science girl?”

Lia laughed. “Not seriously at all. The girl is pretty enough, but she’s far too conventional. Far too intelligent – I can’t see Klavier having the patience! He much prefers ditzy girls. No, no, she’s not his type at all.”

“You don’t think they’re true?”

“You forget how well I know Klavier. She is, no doubt, useful to him in the field. If she has a crush on him, then...well. That’s to be expected. He’s a very handsome man.”

“And what do you think of what he said earlier today – that there’s no women in his life at the moment?”

She laughed again, breathily. “Well, I know that one isn’t true.” She smirked at the camera, winking.”Although I don’t think he’d thank me for sharing that.”

“No?”

“No, Klavier values his privacy. I’m only here to dispel these nasty comments about him being a womaniser because he won’t. But we can work on his shyness, you know? We’ve had our problems, but I’m giving him another chance.”

“That’s very sweet of you.”

“He needs someone who can understand his lifestyle – and I do, I’ve lived through it. It Came From Mars may be on a hiatus, but I can still relate to his lifestyle. My novel is taking up a lot of time.” Lia Hardy had been the bassist in It Came From Mars, for whom The Gavinners had acted as a support band, before their career took off and they eclipsed It Came From Mars.

The interview continued, but Klavier turned it off in disgust. How dare she pretend they were seeing one another again? All he’d heard from her in the last few weeks was the text telling him that she was doing this interview.

Although, of course, he knew that the minute he went to see her, she’d stage it so it looked like he was visiting her for some romantic purpose.

He found her number in his phone, and called her reluctantly.

“Ah! Klavier! I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard your voice again!”

“What are you doing, Lia?”

“Well, I’m just about to paint my nails – “

“You know what I mean.”

She giggled. “Oh, Klavier, I didn’t think we’d be having this kind of phone call this early –“

“Lia. Why are you telling everyone we’re back together?” He replied coldly, trying to control his anger.

“Ohhh, you should’ve said, Klavi! You see, my dear, I miss you – or at least, I miss the perks you brought. And this time I’m getting twice as many.”

“Why now?”

“Well, your love life is in the papers again – and you organised it! I owe you a thank you. And you know the best part, Klavi darling?”

“The money?”

“Close! The best part is that you are going to continue this charade with me! You’re going to play along.”

“And why would I do that?” He wanted to scream at her, to refuse, but he’d known her for too long – she had something on him, no doubt.

“Because I have worked out your little secret. You can tell the press what you want, or tell the fans, and they’ll fall for it...but you can’t fool me. I know you. I recognise your behaviour – the way you talk about her is the way you used to talk about me. A long time ago. When you felt something for me.”

He remained silent.

“You care for her, Klavier, more than you’re letting on. And if you don’t want me to tell the press, you’re going to play along with me.”

“...how long?”

He could hear Lia’s grin. “Maybe a couple of months? We’ll see how my record sales go, and how long it takes me to finish this book.”

“Fine. But it stays low key.”

“Now just tell me, Klavi dearest, what are you more worried about – the press, your fans...or her?”

He hung up the phone, knowing that it was probably a mistake.

Lia, however, was pleased to know that she could still read him like a book.

When Ema entered the precinct the next day, she received sympathetic smiles and vague conciliation. Enough to tell her that something else had happened that they all felt they should inform her of.

So probably something to do with Klavier.

She couldn’t help but wonder what the idiot fop had done now – even if they were getting on better than they had previously it didn’t mean he was behaving any better. It was probably something like he was going away to the mountains for a few weeks to get in contact with his muse. Or that he was holing himself up in the studio for a month and wouldn’t be able to see anyone.

No big deal.

There was a knock at her door – that blonde detective girl, the one who seemed determined to ingratiate herself with Ema in all the wrong ways. “Detective Skye? Have you heard?”

Ema bit back something snappy. “Heard about what...?” She needed to learn the girls name. Especially since she seemed determined to crowbar her way into Ema’s life.

The blonde bit her lip. “Oh, Ema.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “Right.” She leaned over Ema’s computer, minimising the game of solitaire and bringing up the internet.

Ema arched her eyebrows. “We’ll stick with Detective Skye, Detective...” Ah! Name-badge! She could read it, just. Kitty Fauna. Of course. “Fauna.”

With some deft typing, Kitty brought up the page in question – Lia’s interview. “I’ll, uh, leave you to watch it alone. But...but if you need me, you can page me!” She paused to hug her superior – not something Ema appreciated. Kitty bit her lip, waving her goodbye as she left.

Ema sighed deeply, reluctantly pressing play – no sense in being left out of the loop. If she was going to receive pity, she may as well know why.

The woman was stunning. She was every inch a rock goddess – her hair was a mass of waves, lilac, with black streaks, her eyes dark and sparkly. Ema couldn’t quite work out where the makeup ended and her true face began. Her outfit was surprisingly elegant, clashing with the tattoos evident on her wrists. Her suit was black with white accents, and around her neck –

A Gavinners necklace. Just like Klavier’s.

Ah. So that was why everyone was feeling sorry for her.

“I’m here with Lia Hardy, bassist of It Came From Mars, and ex-girlfriend of Klavier Gavin, our favourite playboy rock god – “

“Now, you see, that’s why I’m here.” Lia smiled sweetly. “Dear Klavier...Klavier is not a playboy, and he never has been. I don’t think he ever will be, the boy is too loyal for his own good.” She sighed affectionately.

Ema wondered if the dislike she felt was genuine or just a gut reaction to the way this woman said Klavier’s name.

“Klavier is too private for his own good. The reason we broke up in the first place was because I wanted to go public and he didn’t – I gave him an ultimatum, and he chose his privacy. But he appears to be losing that, and I don’t think he knows how to respond. He needs someone to guide him through – and I think that person is going to be me.”

Ema wasn’t going to watch this anymore. This woman was far too infuriating. How on earth had Klavier put up with her? Although Ema did have to concede that the woman was beautiful. Maybe that had been enough.

Maybe he really was as shallow as she thought.

She looked at her pile of reports for the day, and made a face. Paperwork. Would she ever do enough?

She busied herself with it, until her ears pricked up at the words “science girl” – presumably her. She hadn’t turned the video off.

“The girl is pretty enough, but she’s far too conventional. Far too intelligent – I can’t see Klavier having the patience! He much prefers ditzy girls. No, no, she’s not his type at all.”

How on Earth was it possible to be too intelligent? No, she wasn’t going to listen to this woman any longer. Back to the report. It wasn’t even worth the effort of turning the video off, it’d end at its own accord.

“But we can work on that, you know? We’ve had our problems, but I’m giving him another chance.”

Ema jerked up. Back, back, rewind – she watched the video this time, saw the glint in her eye.

She was dating Klavier again.

Klavier had a girlfriend.

So that was why everyone was feeling sorry for her.

And why she was suddenly feeling very sorry for herself.

- - -

She appeared outside Phoenix’s house that evening, knocking quite desperately on the door. Lana, having a rare day off, was away with Jake – the two were taking a long weekend for some much needed time alone, beginning that evening. Phoenix Wright was the closest to family she could think of.

The door opened almost immediately, by Phoenix himself, who ushered her in quickly, before embracing her warmly. “Oh, Ema.”

She didn’t speak, merely allowing herself to be lead to the sofa, where she was seated. Phoenix sat beside her, his arm around her, allowing her to simply lean on his chest and close her eyes. “Ugh.”

She heard the sound of a kettle boiling, and opened her eyes to see Edgeworth making a pot of tea. She glanced up at Phoenix, who was smiling. “Miles isn’t brilliant at emotions.” He murmured. “He’s better at practical things.”

She appreciated the gesture.

“So. Do you want to talk about it?” Phoenix asked kindly as Edgeworth placed down a tray, with teapot, enough cups for each of them, and a plate of cookies – chocolate chip. Ema got the feeling that Edgeworth knew the Wright kitchen better than any other member of the household.

Ema sighed. “I didn’t think it’d hurt. I didn’t think I felt that way about him. I knew I was attracted to him, but that...” She trailed off.

Phoenix was briefly reminded why he’d needed Ema to talk to Trucy about girl things. This wasn’t a situation he was used to. And Miles didn’t look like he’d be much use, from the way he was focussed intensely on his tea.

“I can’t believe it’s her, though. She seems so...ugh! You’re both men, what do you think of her?” She looked up at them earnestly.

Phoenix thought for a moment. “Too good to be true.” He’d had enough dealings with the falsely sweet and the genuinely sweet to note the difference. Lia fell into the first category, most certainly. “There was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on. Everything was too well rehearsed.”

Edgeworth shifted slightly in his seat. “...she...well... she’s certainly attractive, but...I didn’t like her.”

It was only after she’d asked that Ema realised that they may not be the best people to ask. Still. At least they were on her side. “Where’re Apollo and Trucy?” She always presumed that Apollo was there, even though somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that he did have his own apartment.

“Trucy is out with Will – which I think I have you to thank for, so, thank you. You have made my daughter much happier.” Phoenix smiled. “And Apollo is...Miles, where is Apollo?” He frowned.

Edgeworth raised his eyes to the heavens – this was why Trucy had started call him ‘mommy’. “He’s at a late night coffee place with that Vera girl. I suspect they may have said at least two words to one another by now.”

Ema smiled despite herself. “So, it’s just you two here – oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude...”

Phoenix chuckled. “No, no, tonight Miles was tutoring me. Your arrival was a welcome distraction.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as she leant against Phoenix’s chest. Phoenix smoothed her hair, just as her sister would. “It’ll be alright, Ema.”

“He’ll come around.” Edgeworth offered, earning him an affectionate (and possibly even proud) grin from Phoenix.

- - -

“I’ll drive you home, Ema.” Edgeworth insisted. “It’s too far to walk, and far too dark.”

“But...you and Phoenix...”

“I can drive back again.” Edgeworth smiled slightly. “Come along, Ema.”

“...thank you, Mr Edgeworth.”

Phoenix enveloped her in a warm hug. “If you need us, we’ll be here, Ema.”

“Thanks.” She muttered into his chest, feeling rather squashed but appreciating the gesture.

Edgeworth awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Any time, Ema.”

She nodded, before Phoenix moved from her to Edgeworth – placing his hands on his shoulders. “Drive carefully.” He leaned over and kissed his cheek, and Ema smiled slightly to see the light blush on Edgeworth’s cheek. She doubted she’d see it again in her lifetime. Clearly Phoenix brought out the best in Edgeworth – she couldn’t imagine the Edgeworth she had known ever indulging in any affection that could be witnessed.

Phoenix released Edgeworth, but not without what Ema surmised to be some very meaningful eye contact. “I’ll be waiting.”

Edgeworth raised his eyebrows, as if to say “of course you will”, but let it go. “Come along, Ema.”

The drive back to Ema’s was quiet, but Ema wouldn’t have had it any other way. It felt like she’d settled back into the past, where prosecutors were stalwarts, noble and elegant, composed and calm. Life at present was far from that.

They arrived at her apartment block quicker than she anticipated. “Thank you, Mr Edgeworth.” She said softly.

“A pleasure, Ema. I hope the next time I see you it is for a nicer reason.”

She nodded. “Take care, Mr Edgeworth. And thank Mr Wright for me.”

He smiled. “I shall. Sleep well.”

She doubted that she would, but feigned a smile as she made it to her door. She waved him goodbye, and watched him raise a hand in an attempt at a wave. She doubted he’d ever be able to cut loose in the way that most other people she knew could, but Phoenix was certainly making a difference to him.

The stairs to her apartment felt as if they lasted forever, until she finally came to her door, where she could hide in her room.

Huh. Just when she’d thought she could stop doing that.

- - -

“I want to call him, Miles.”

“You can’t, Phoenix.” Edgeworth sighed, closing the door. “Calling him to inform him of what he has done would be tantamount to informing him of how Ema feels about him, and I don’t believe she would thank either of us.”

Phoenix pouted. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Edgeworth’s arm went around his waist – it always surprised Phoenix, just a little, how easy he was with his affection when it was just the two of them. “There’s nothing either of us can do.”

Phoenix huffed, allowing himself to be lead upstairs. “Bastard.”

“Mmm, it’s lucky not all prosecutors are like him.”

“I think you’d make an excellent rockstar, Miles.”

“...”

- - -

Klavier’s day had been hectic – his supposed day off had soon become him being hounded by the press, asked to give a statement on his apparent relationship. He had been suitably sheepish, acted the role of the man who had been caught out, and acted as if this was the reason he had made his statements regarding Ema – it had hurt Lia’s feelings that he was associated with another woman.

He considered becoming an actor, since he was apparently very good at it.

It crossed his mind that, perhaps, he should inform Ema of the truth. That this entire thing was a sham, he was just being blackmailed into it.

The problem of this, of course, was that she would want to know what this woman had over him.

And of course she’d probably wonder why he was telling her in the first place.

Why he so particularly cared what she thought.

And that was, essentially, the whole reason that he was in this sorry mess.

Klavier Gavin. Afraid to tell a woman how he felt.

What a joke.

When he thought about it, this was the first time, since Lia, that he had felt anything serious for a woman. And it had only been Daryan forcing him to speak to Lia that had lead to anything happening with her.

Everybody thought he was a womaniser, when in reality he had had very few romantic dalliances. He groaned. Trust him to pick a woman who would end up blackmailing him.

Lia hadn’t always been this way – certainly when they had first got together, she had been down to earth, sweet and funny. Over the tour they’d spend most of their time happily relaxing together behind the scenes, or going to small low-key restaurants, where they could have their privacy but still enjoy one another’s company.

It was only when the Gavinners had become more famous that she had begun to change. Looking back, it was obvious – the moment she realised what fame could be like, she craved it, and presumed that she had an instant route. Rockstar girlfriend status would be enough to get her there, and she was all too willing to take advantage of it.

It was just a pity that he hadn’t. It had been their undoing.

He stood on his balcony, looking at the city at night. It was beautiful out there, but it wasn’t enough to distract him. This entire sorry mess felt ridiculous. He should do something, he knew that.

He made himself a promise – tomorrow he would visit Ema.

Tomorrow he would set the record straight.

For her, at least.

Ema was composed.

It was the shock more than anything else – the shock that he had a girlfriend, and the shock of how much it hurt.

But life was just too short to spend her days moping about him. Clearly he didn’t care to spend that much time thinking of her, so why should she spend that much time thinking about him?

Of course it was easier in theory than it was in reality, but she was determined. And she knew she was more than capable of coping. She’d dealt with worse, much worse, she could deal with this. It hurt, but she knew there were worse things out there. Heartache wasn’t going to break her.

She returned sympathetic looks with a smile (although all this resulted in was people discussing how brave she was after she left). Any actual comments she laughed off – no, no, it wasn’t like that, it never would be, she was glad he’d found someone to put up with him, maybe now she’d get some peace? They’d laugh together, she’d move on – and, again, they’d comment on how brave she was. How it was easy to see that she really was hurting, underneath it all.

She was more than aware of this, but masks could only do so much. Acting could only take you so far.

And she wasn’t much good at it, truth be told.

Settling down at her desk, she noted that her staff, apparently lead by Kitty, had left her a bag of Snackoos. There were also a couple of messages from friends, telling her that they were there, if she needed them. It was all very kind, although she really didn’t feel like they were close enough to confide in – it was strange, the way situations made it clear how close you really were to people. All of these gestures were nice, but didn’t bring anywhere near as much comfort as the knowledge that Phoenix and Edgeworth (she wondered, briefly, if she’d ever be able to bring herself to call him Miles) were willing to look after her whenever she needed it.

Not that she didn’t appreciate it. She opened the pack, and began to munch. Her reports would get some crumbs on them, but they’d dealt with worse in the past.

Maybe next week she’d be able to get back to investigating crime scenes. Desk duty always reminded her of how much worse her job could be, even if she didn’t particularly enjoy it. There was no real reason why she should be holed up in here much longer – the shift had most certainly moved to Klavier and his girlfriend now.

It hurt to think that.

She could’ve sworn the number of files increased every day. Maybe they presumed that because she had nothing else to do, she could get rid of some of the backlog of files. As much as she wanted to refute this claim, she suspected they were right.

She glanced up as she heard a knock on the door. “Kitty?”

Klavier frowned. “Pet-names, fräulein? I think I prefer glimmerous fop.”

It was strange, the way someone seems to change once you’re aware they’re in a relationship. In her experience, it could go either way – most of the time they became less desirable, simply because there was closure (no, it isn’t going to happen, it doesn’t matter how much you want it), but sometimes the reverse happened.

Klavier fell into the latter category, and she hated that about him.

She shook her head, forcing a smile. “No, no, one of my detectives is called Kitty.” She offered him a Snackoo, which he refused (he always refused them when they were offered, but would steal one if he could – one of the many things she suspected she would never actually understand about him). “Kitty’s taken it upon herself to take care of me as my heart breaks.” She added wryly.

Klavier looked at her sheepishly. “You have heard.”

“The Western hemisphere has heard. Probably the Eastern, too.” She tipped her head – she’d hoped it’d be getting easier by now. It wasn’t. “Although I understand why you did what you did in the first place now. I can’t imagine how she must’ve felt, rumours of you with another woman...” Actually, technically, she could imagine it. It wasn’t far from what she was feeling then. She wasn’t going to share that thought with him, though.

“Well, you see, Ema – “

“Really, it’s alright.” She smiled warmly at him. “She’s stunning, and she seems...” She trailed off, hoping her smile was enough. “I’m happy for you.”

He bit his lip, looking at her intently. He didn’t believe her. “It isn’t real, Ema.”

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. “What?”

“It’s not real. Lia is holding something over me.” He breathed deeply. “I have no feelings towards her.”

She stared at him. “What can she have over you?”

He smiled ruefully. “If I could tell you, meine fräulein, I would not be in this mess.”

She opened and closed her mouth, not knowing how to react. Part of her was hurt that he didn’t trust her (but, really, could she blame him? They weren’t that close, as affectionate as she felt towards him. She certainly wouldn’t impart her deepest secrets to him – not yet, at least), another part angry that he hadn’t told her in the first place, and one part relieved that none of it was true. “But...what is there left to be discovered? Your fame has endured your bandmate being a murderer, and your brother...”

“As I said...” He wouldn’t look at her.

Suddenly it dawned on her. “It’s not you, is it? You’re protecting someone.” She sighed. “Oh, Klavier.”

He nodded slightly. A loose approximation, he supposed – if it did get out that there was something between them (albeit one-sided) then the girl would need to be protected. It had crossed his mind that Lia was in the same position, but she could take care of herself. He also really didn’t much care for her, so he found himself almost pleased that she would suffer the wrath of his fangirls.

She shook her head a little. “Can you tell me who?”

“Nein, nein.”

She leaned back in her chair, mulling things over. Well. At least he was single. But – “Why did you tell me?”

He knew his real reason – that he didn’t want her to think he was romantically attached to anyone but her. But as for the reason he would give to her... “You are already so involved. It would be wrong to keep you in the dark. You were the trigger.”

She made a face. “This is my fault?”

“Nein! It is my own.” He looked dejected. He’d made his bed, he was going to have to lie in it. With Lia, presumably.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Ema informed him, probably in an attempt to comfort him. It didn’t really work. “So...what are her demands?”

He smiled mirthlessly, leaning against the filing cabinet. “Fame. Fortune. She will find someone more famous and charming than I, and move on. And I shall be free.”

“She’ll have trouble with that...” Ema mused absently. “There aren’t many more famous than you...”

“There will be soon, now that the Gavinners have broken up.” He chuckled a little. “Besides, my muse has deserted me. No acoustic album yet.”

She looked saddened by that. “But...your music...”

He shrugged. “I was a prosecutor first. I shall be a prosecutor last.” In truth, it surprised him that she was upset at all (and, if she was being honest, it surprised her, too).

“You never talk about your personal life.” She said softly. “Not to anyone here. You talk about your band, but not you.” She smiled slightly. “You’re not a very good egomaniac, really.”

He wrinkled his nose in response to ‘egomaniac’. “I am a very private person, fräulein. And, of course, my musical career is more than enough to speak of.” He took the seat opposite her, suspecting that it was probably going to end up being a long conversation. “But, really...I have friends, with whom I drink and go to gigs. For a rock star, I am most well-behaved.”

“No one-night stands, no all-night parties, no snorting cocaine in the toilets?” She arched her eyebrows. “I don’t believe it, Klavier, no sex, no drugs, only rock n roll?!”

He chuckled lightly at her (admittedly poor) joke. “Guilty as charged. Would you ruin this physique with narcotics?” He indicated his body, allowing Ema a brief (but really very enjoyable)mental image of him in a state of undress – to show his physique, of course. “And as for women...I had opportunities, but...” He shrugged. “I have high standards, fräulein.”

She smiled. “Klavier Gavin, one of the good guys. Who knew?”

“I would’ve hoped that you did, liebling.”

That rung a bell in the back of her mind. “...drunken detective?” She frowned.

He bit back a laugh. “It is a name for you, detective, you were merely drunk at the time.”

She feigned great distress. “You lied to me? When I was drunk? Oh, where is this good man I thought I knew?!”

He grinned guiltily, before turning the tables on her. “Detective, you also do not speak of your personal life... I have shared, and now so must you.”

She shrugged. “My sister – who is away at the moment – is currently engaged to her dream man, who I approve of despite myself. Even if he is trying to convince her to have a cowboy-themed wedding. That won’t be marrying for a while, though. I see a lot of Mr Wright, Apollo and Trucey - and Mr Edgeworth.” She blushed lightly, deciding not to inform Klavier of the context of this (Klavier, unfortunately, leapt to his own conclusion – not one he particularly liked). “And of course I have the friends I go for drinks with, and go to clubs with – “

“You, fräulein detective? In a club?” He grinned. “I would like to see that.”

She smiled mysteriously – almost flirtatiously (although that may have been wishful thinking on Klavier’s part). “We all need to let our hair down.”

“You and I must go to a club.” Klavier decided.

Ema rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure Lia would love that.”

“Perhaps I shall go to a club, with Lia and others, and perhaps you shall also go to a club...?” There was a glint in his eye which made Ema’s stomach do a tiny flip.

“You’re determined to see this through, aren’t you?”

“I’m determined to see you with your hair down, meine fräulein.”

“You just want me to be a drunken liebling.” She muttered. “But I do want to go out, after the last week...”

“You deserve to go out.” He informed her seriously. “You deserve to go out to Viva.”

Viva was one of the better clubs in the area. Not the best, by any means, but good enough for celebrities to frequent on occasion. Especially if they preferred a little privacy – the club was public enough and dark enough to hide both famous and unknown faces alike.

Ema nodded slightly. “I’ll gather a group together.”

He grinned, joyous that she was so eager – he had expected to have to twist her arm. Not literally, obviously - for a start she’d probably manage to fight him off after a couple of seconds. It was the best news he’d had all day.

“Until this evening, liebling.” He grinned, at least a little devilishly, and disappeared out of the door.

Ema picked up her phone and began to write out a message, before pausing. This could be the perfect opportunity to actually get to know some of the people she worked with most often – as much as she had friends within the precinct, many were outside her department. She got up and went through to the coffee area – “Hey, ladies – I need a good girl’s night out. Tonight. Viva?”

The lady detectives gathered – including Kitty – gave noises of affirmation, as they proceeded to plan their evening out. Kitty considered her plan to become “bffs” with Ema to be going even better than she expected.

- - -

There was such a therapy in getting ready to go out.

The other detectives were due to descend onto her apartment in just over an hour, for predrinking and to call the taxi. It had been such a long time since she had gone out. She had called other friends in the precinct, who intended to meet them there, and her friends at Ivy University, most of which were desperately jealous, wanting to go out but really not being able to due to deadlines. For this early stage, however, it was only her detecting colleagues.

She realised, to her surprise, that this was probably the first time they’d all done this.

Tying her hair up in a towel, she looked at her wardrobe and grimaced. Every time she went out she did the same thing – analysed her wardrobe, rejected most choices, bemoaned her lack of gorgeous clothes, resolved to buy new clothes, and then found the clothes she had purchased (on impulse) the last time she went shopping.

She’d usually reject them and go for her favourite black dress, but tonight...

The top she’d purchased on Sunday – which felt forever ago now, although it was only Friday now – had most certainly been a top for clubs. More specifically, it was a top for Viva.

It was a delicate silky material, very fitted, in a dark burgundy colour. The straps very thin, barely there at all, but enough to mean she wasn’t going to worry about it leaving her exposed. Paired with her favourite black, short-enough skirt (not indecently short, but still short) and the only heels that didn’t leave her in agony by the end of the night, she surmised that she might, actually, look a little bit stunning.

And, true to her word, she left her hair down.

As the detectives began to arrive – Kitty first, very enthusiastic – she was complimented many a time, even before the pouring of wine and the beginning of drinking games.

- - -

“You said you wanted to make this look real.” Klavier offered. “Viva. Tonight.”

“Mmm, too soon, surely?” Lia frowned, inspecting her nails.

“I’m going out tonight. It’ll look suspect if you aren’t with me.” He replied bluntly, glad this conversation was over the phone and not in person. He was much better at being stoic when she wasn’t actually there.

Lia’s frown deepened. “Fine. But really, Viva? It’s so...b-list.”

“It shows that we don’t care where we are so long as we are together.” Klavier replied emotionlessly.

Lia burst into a smile. “I swear, Klavier, you think better than my PR guy! OK, pick me up at nine!” She hung up on him, going to her wardrobe to find a suitably stunning outfit.

Klavier, meanwhile, decided that to go low key – at least, low key for him. His favourite tight black jeans, naturally, but for the shirt...

He looked at his options, before deciding on a scarlet shirt, with his trademark necklace – not something he could be seen without.

He found himself cautiously excited, not quite sure of what to expect this evening. He hadn’t felt this way in quite some time, he realised, as if he were about to go on a first date.

Except, of course, his pretend girlfriend would be there, watching him like a hawk.

He grunted with frustration, and went to find a beer. They’d get a cab to the club.

- - -

Viva was a nice enough place, usually, but in a slightly drunken haze it became amazing.

The gaggle of gorgeous girl detectives (as they had decided to call themselves) found themselves to be quite popular – every drink was paid for and placed in their hands before the even got a chance to order. In a more sober state most would’ve been ashamed to think of the way they’d exploited their feminine charms, but at present their scheme was a stroke of genius, a master plan. Anybody who got too fresh had their drink thrown on them and was subsequently frozen out.

It was a scheme that worked, especially when their various hard stares (often used on resistant witnesses) were brought into play.

By the time Klavier arrived, Ema was most certainly tipsy. She wasn’t quite drunk, as such, but after her next drink she knew she would be. She considered, briefly, stopping at this point – it may not be fun to be the sober one, but it was a good idea to have one.

It was at this point that she saw Klavier come in, with Lia on his arm. To say on his arm was an understatement – she was in fact all over him, her hand in his shirt, leaning on him, making clear signals which said “he’s mine”.

Ema needed a drink.

Klavier looked over to see Ema standing next to a tall, dark-haired man, quite clearly flirting with him. Klavier swallowed hard, which Lia mistook for something else, causing her to giggle flirtatiously. “Oh, Klavier!”

He ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Ema, who was being treated to a drink by the tall man. Biting his lip, he looked back to Lia. “Drink?”

She beamed. “You’re so thoughtful!”

He forced a smile, before disappearing to the bar.

- - -

“You look beautiful.” He whispered, standing behind her at the bar.

She glanced up at him, smiling. “Thank you.” She paused to look at him properly. “You should wear red more often.

“Nein, it is more Herr Forehead’s colour.” He smirked.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t look good.” She finished the drink she had previously been bought. “I’m about to buy my first drink of the night.” She informed him, not entirely sure why.

“Not so, I shall be buying it for you.” His arm went to the bar, placing a note on it. In the process his arm went across her body, and his hand came to rest on her stomach.

She breathed deeply. “Is Lia here?” She asked, knowing the answer full well.

“She has been distracted, no doubt.” Klavier replied simply.

Ema scoffed. “I’m not sure how, with you...I don’t think anything could...if you...” Her words drifted.

Klavier smirked, moving a little closer to her and pressing her more tightly to him. “You compliment me, fräulein.”

“Do I? Sorry.” She replied absently, not really thinking at present. The bartender served them, at last, and she grabbed Klavier’s hand, taking him away from the bar, to a hidden corner – after, of course, quickly drinking her shot. “I don’t think anyone noticed?”

Klavier shook his head. “Nein, nein, most people are too drunk to care.” He grinned at her, before downing his drink as quickly as possible. Dutch courage and all that. “Ema.”

She beamed up at him, placing her hands on his chest. “Dance with me.”

He rested his hands on her hips, before pausing to move her hands up to around his neck. “There is something I must say.”

She looked up at him intently. “What?”

He rested his forehead against hers, holding her tightly. “I...care for you very much, Ema.”

“Awww.” She smiled. “That’s so sweet, Klavier.” She hugged him tightly, moving her head to his chest.

He closed his eyes. Maybe he’d need more Dutch courage.

She raised her hand up to his cheek, tugging his face towards her. “Klavier...”

He opened his eyes, recognising the look in her eyes as she pressed her lips against his.

As first kisses went, it could’ve been a better one for the couple. The romance of the situation was not high, and neither had much dexterity at that moment in time. But in the halflight and with the music pounding, it was enough just that they were together.

She pulled back first, smiling shyly up at him, slightly dizzy. He held her tightly, looking down at her. “Ema...”

She shook her head. “Didn’t happen. Doesn’t count. Cause we’re drunk.” She grinned.

He took her hand from his cheek. “I want it to count, Ema.”

She pressed her head against his chest. “But it can’t count. Lia.”

In that moment, he hated Lia with almost every fibre of his being.

Ema woke, with a hammering in her head. She winced inwardly – clearly she had overdone it last night. Then again, that had been part of the intention.

She rolled over – well, at least there was nobody else here, and she was in her own room. It wasn’t something that had happened to her in the past, but given the amount she had drunk last night...

Thank God for Saturdays.

Stumbling out of bed, she moved to the kitchen – she needed Snackoos, coffee and maybe something greasy to eat.

And it’d be nice if her memory came back, too. Waiting for the kettle to boil, she nibbled at a pack of Snackoos, wandering into her lounge. One of the perks of having a small apartment meant that it didn’t take long. She turned the television on, seating herself on the sofa.

Steel Samurai re-runs. Score! It was just about the level she could handle.

She heard the kettle click, and moved to make herself instant coffee. Percolated, proper coffee was much more appealing, but also took a lot more effort and time. Sipping it, she felt a little better – caffeine was truly a magical thing. She glanced at the television – it was the commercial break.

Taking the coffee through, she learned that she could get stains out easily if only she used the correct washing powder, that her hair could be so much glossier if only she would dye it, and that if she wore a certain perfume she could cause people to chase her through corridors. None of these things particularly convinced her.

Just before the Steel Samurai resumed, there was a short trail for Gavinners: The Hits (apparently the release date had been changed). A close up of the band in action, including Klavier, in the middle of a guitar riff.

He’d worn a red shirt last night, she remembered suddenly. And he’d bought her a drink – in fact, he’d followed her up to the bar. He’d had his arm around her...

She smiled dreamily. Yeah, that’d been good.

And then...she’d...lead him away? They’d danced. She remembered that. He’d said something.

What had he said?

She sipped at the coffee, wondering what he’d said. It had been something nice. She knew that much.

The Steel Samurai and Evil Magistrate were locked in an epic battle. She vaguely remembered this episode, from a long time ago. She’d enjoyed the twist in the ending, when it turned out it wasn’t the Evil Magistrate in his armour, it was his daughter – the daughter that the Steel Samurai had fallen in love with, earlier that episode. The mask fell off at that the penultimate moment, causing the Steel Samurai to throw down his weapon in distress and confess to her that he could not hurt her, because he –

“Cared for her too much.” She murmured, hearing it in Klavier’s voice. That was strange. She frowned.

That couldn’t have been...could it?

“Oh. Oh my God.” It was all flooding back.

She’d kissed him.

She had kissed Klavier Gavin.

His fangirls would want to kill her if they knew. So would Lia, she suspected.

If she hadn’t been sitting down she probably would’ve collapsed. She bit her lip. She’d actually kissed him.

And he’d kissed her back.

She felt a little dizzy, and wasn’t quite sure if it was the hangover or the memory.

She had to call Lana.

- - -

Jake Marshall resented being woken up by Lana’s ringtone.

He didn’t mind quite as much as Lana leaned over him to pick up her phone, kissing his forehead in the process. “It’ll be important.” She said softly.

“Morning, bambina.” Jake replied sleepily.

“Ema?” Lana answered.

“Lana! I’m sorry, but...there’s nobody else I could talk about this with. I need...sisterly advice.”

Lana sat bolt upright, prepared to help in whatever way she could. “Are you in trouble, Ema?” Jake sat up, concern in his eyes.

“What? No! Well. Not really. You...you know the whole...Klavier thing?”

Lana was beginning to dread hearing the man’s name. “Yes.”

“Well...last night...I kissed him. And he kissed me back. And he told me cared about me.” It all came out in a rush, almost as if Ema was unsure of how to feel.

“You don’t sound happy about that.” Lana frowned. Jake’s arm draped around her shoulders, causing her to smile at him. “Man trouble” she mouthed, and he nodded wisely, glad it hadn’t been him to answer the phone.

“He’s dating someone else. He told me it wasn’t real, she’d blackmailing him, but everyone else thinks...”

“But what do you think?” Lana was suspicious of this man’s motives for her baby sister, especially with him telling her that this other relationship wasn’t real, but decided not to speak on them – for now, at least. Jake would hear of her grievances later that day.

“...I think that I’m falling for him.” She sighed. “And I shouldn’t be, Lana, this is the worst possible time...” Ema whimpered a little.

“And you think that he’s falling for you?”

“He told me he cared about me... And he...I think he is, Lana. I don’t think he’d take advantage of me, not like that.”

“So long as you trust him.” Lana replied, somewhat cryptically, as she tried to make up her mind about how she felt about this man. “Just...keep your eyes open, Ema. Don’t be blinded by your own feelings.”

The real reason Ema had called (and both of them knew it) was to ensure precisely that – she needed to be grounded, and there was nobody better to do that than her own sister. “Thanks, Lana.” She replied quietly, before catching herself. “Hey, how’s your weekend with Jake?”

Lana grinned, curling into Jake’s embrace. “It’s been good, so far. I think we’re going to go out for lunch today, maybe he can show me around the town. Apparently it’s where he used to come to roam the plains, or something.” Jake nodded confirmation, not that she passed this on.

Ema smiled. As odd as Jake was, he was a good man through and through, and he clearly made her sister very happy. “That sounds great.”

“Mmm. Do you want to speak to him?”

“Oh, no, no – I’ll leave you two to it. Have a great weekend.”

“If you need me – “

“I know, Lana. Thanks.” Ema hung up.

Jake looked at Lana. “You ok, bambina? Do we need to go back?”

“No, no, she’s alright.” She kissed him tenderly. “But thank you.”

He smiled, holding her tight. “Family matters.” He replied simply.

- - -

Klavier awoke on Lia’s sofa.

It wasn’t a place he was particularly happy to be, but better here than her bed.

“Ah, I wondered when you’d wake up. Still swear by a big German breakfast as a hangover cure?”

“But of course.” He rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s about one in the afternoon.” Lia pushed her hair behind her ears. “Why, got a hot date?” She laughed at her own joke. “Ah, but last night was good. I forgot how much fun it was at Viva. Not that we’ll be going there again, we need to be seen by all the right people.”

Klavier grunted, getting up to move to her kitchen.

She sighed. “I really don’t like that shirt.”

Ema did, Klavier thought bitterly. Be it a gift or a curse, he never had any memory loss after drinking –not even any which would pass in time. This meant that whilst he remembered the dizzying highs (kissing Ema, mostly) he also recalled the hideous lows – having to leave Ema to her friends in order to at least give the appearance of spending time with Lia. He hadn’t seen her again – not properly, anyway. He’d seen her from across the room, looking slightly lost for most of the rest of the night.

“Have you found my replacement yet?” Klavier asked, fighting to keep the hope out of his voice.

She sighed. “You really think I’m just using you, don’t you? This can help both of us, it doesn’t have to be a charade.” Standing beside him, she slipped her hand into his shirt, touching his chest. It was a habit she’d had when they’d been together, and at that time he had really rather liked it. “You can’t tell me that you’re not attracted to me.”

He glared at her, removing her hand. He both could and would tell her just that. “I’m not attracted to you. I have no interest in you, not like that.” Barely any other way, too, if he was honest. It was almost ironic – he had remembered her affectionately earlier last week, hoping that she was alright wherever she was. He wanted to take that thought back. “I want this over.”

“But we’ve barely begun.” She pursed her lips. “Oh, Klavier, you can’t get bored of the game already. Unless you’re thinking of being brave and telling that poor girl how you feel. If you do that, I’ll have no power over you.”

He regarded her seriously.

“But, of course, your fans... I can handle them, Klavier, I’m an old hand at this, but your little fräulein detective...” She sighed. “I’m not sure how she’ll deal with it, you know. But if you want to put her through that, then – “

“She would have to deal with that regardless.”

“But the press, Klavier, the press too. Especially now. You wouldn’t be able to protect her the entire time, and I don’t believe she’d let you.”

Klavier rubbed his temples. “What is it going to take to end this, Lia?”

She folded her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You’re oddly determined to get this over with, Klavier. Has something happened with you and this girl?” She frowned.

“I don’t enjoy lying to her.” He replied bluntly, avoiding the question. “If I want something to happen, I hardly think that lying will help my chances.”

“Ah, such nobility, Klavier, I almost forgot you had it.” She smiled. “If you really, really want to speed to process...find me someone better. You must know someone.”

Klavier mentally worked his way through any contacts he had made – more specifically, contacts he had made who would exceed him in fame and who he wasn’t particularly fond of. Actually finding someone who fitted both criteria was more difficult than he’d thought. But another thought crossed his mind. “I don’t know anyone suitable for you...but I do have an invite to a party.”

Lia gave him a look. “Anyone can go to a party.”

“A private party. It’s being thrown by a friend of a friend – he used to be in the Steel Samurai.”

Lia made a face. “That kid’s show? Ugh.”

“And now he’s on the team behind the new series. Samurai Hunter – Revenge for the Fallen. Which means that – “

“Olivier David? The Samurai Hunter? Beloved of teenage girls everywhere?” Lia, he noted, had gone slightly pink. Excellent.

“I believe so.”

“Klavier, you are useful to have around sometimes.” She beamed, kissing his cheek. “When is the party?”

“Wednesday. You have more than enough time to find yourself the perfect outfit.”

“And you’re certain Olivier David will be there?”

“Would you miss your own boss’s party?”

Lia let out a little squeal. “You’re going to have to leave soon, Klavier, I need to start preperations...”

She terrified him when she schemed.

- - -

“Please, Mr Wright, please.” Klavier Gavin was not used to having to beg.

“I only got you an invite because Apollo and Trucy asked me to.” Phoenix responded bluntly, not entirely impressed that the rockstar knew where he lived.

“But it wouldn’t be right for me to be there without my girlfriend...”

“It’s invite-only.” Phoenix replied icily. “Perhaps you should decide where your loyalties lie.”

“I’m begging you.” Klavier whispered. “Anything. You can have anything.”

“But you have nothing I want.” Phoenix reasoned. It struck him how desperate Klavier must be to be asking him – a man who he knew second-hand, and had only truly met once in court, at which point he had lead to him losing his badge. As much as they had met on social occasions and got on fairly well, they were hardly friends. Given his behaviour towards Ema, Phoenix was not inclined to be of any help to him.

Klavier bit his lip. Technically speaking, he had until Wednesday. “Money. Surely you are in need of money.”

“You forget the talent of my daughter, and the talent of her mother.” Phoenix replied wryly. “Besides, I will have my pride.”

Klavier wasn’t so sure, given the man’s hoodie (which looked like it was in need of a wash) and tracksuit bottoms (which looked as if they had recently been plucked from the washing machine). “Surely it would make your daughter happy to help me?”

Phoenix shook his head. “Not at present, Mr Gavin.”

Klavier knew that, for now, he would not be able to win Phoenix over. “Thank you for your time, Herr Wright.”

“Klavier?”

He looked over in the direction of the voice, and saw Ema.

He had presumed that, in his memory, he had made her more beautiful since their kiss. He had expected that he had enhanced her in his mind, and made her much more striking than she truly was.

He hadn’t.

“What are you doing here?” She frowned. “Apollo might spend most of his time here, but he doesn’t actually live here...and Trucy is working today...”

“I was asking a favour of Mr Wright.” Klavier replied, trying not to think of how soft her lips had been, how good she had smelled despite being in a sweaty club, how it had seemed that their bodies fit perfectly together in an embrace.

She raised her eyebrows, before turning to Phoenix. “I brought the ingredients I could find, but I couldn’t get all of them. Mr Edgeworth picks odd recipes.”

Phoenix nodded. “Miles has expensive taste. He’s brought some of the rarer ingredients from home.”

Klavier stared at them both blankly, causing Ema to smile at him in explanation. “We’re making dinner together – Mr Edgeworth picked the recipe, and we’re going to spend the afternoon creating it.”

“I warn you now, Ema, Miles can be a little...fussy.” Phoenix cautioned, although both Ema and Klavier suspected that it may be an understatement. “I assure you, he has a high opinion of you, regardless of what he may say once we are in the kitchen.”

Ema turned to Klavier. “Come and spend the afternoon with us, I’m sure we have enough for one more. It doesn’t make much of a difference, cooking for five or six.”

Klavier caught the look in Phoenix’s eyes. “Nein, nein, I would not wish to intrude.”

Phoenix looked at the bag in Ema’s hand. “Here, let me take that inside. Goodbye, Mr Gavin.” He nodded curtly, taking the bag into the house.

Ema bit her lip. “What did you do to him?”

Klavier gave her a look.

“Well, yes, there’s the obvious, but you usually get on well...”

Klavier looked at the doorway – anywhere but at her. “I was asking for another ticket to the Powers party on Wednesday.”

“Oh. For Lia. Of course.” Ema murmured, feeling a little bit like she’d been slapped in the face. She hadn’t really been expecting him to drop her like a stone over a drunken kiss (even though he had been the one who had made it clear he wanted it to “count”) but some sort of indication that he was at least trying to drop the woman would’ve been nice. “And Phoenix can’t help?”

“He won’t help.” Klavier replied bluntly.

Ema sighed. “You can have mine. I didn’t really want to go anyway.”

He stared at her. “Ema, no, really – you should go.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’d enjoy it, I’d just feel out of place. Me, at a private celebrity party?” She forced a mirthless laugh. “I don’t think anyone there would miss me, anyway.”

“They would.” He replied softly, meeting her eyes. “...Ema...last night...”

She held his gaze, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. “I...I understand, we were both – “

“I told you it counted then, and I stand by that. Just...in time, Ema, I promise you.” He held up a hand, about to place a hand on her cheek, before he caught himself. They were in broad daylight. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Take my ticket. I don’t think I’d enjoy seeing you and Lia together.” She turned away. “Come and get it from my office on Monday.”

“...Ema.”

“I’d better be getting in, I want to do my share of the cooking.”

“...very well, fraulein. I shall see you on Monday.” He turned to walk away.

“Klavier?” He turned back to her. “...I know it counted. But...I guess it doesn’t count for much.”

He breathed deeply. “You have no idea how much, Ema.”

It took all of his willpower to walk away.

“That was a long goodbye.” Phoenix commented innocently as Ema entered the kitchen.

“Ah. Yes.” She went to the sink to wash her hands, before Edgeworth shouted at her. “Yes, I...yes.”

Phoenix turned to her, pausing his chopping. “Is there something you need to tell us, Ema?”

Ema forgot, occasionally, that Phoenix was a parent, and could act as such when he wished to. She stared at her feet.
“Yes, there is.”

Edgeworth gave Phoenix a look, indicating that he could listen whilst he chopped. “Ema, if you could mix this whilst you tell us...” He handed her a bowl with a whisk in it, which she took, placing it on the side.

“I kissed him. Last night. After he told me he cared about me. We were drunk. Well. I was drunk. He’d been drinking.”

“He took advantage of you?” Phoenix asked sharply, holding the knife up.

“No! No, no, if he’d wanted to do that, he could’ve done. I kissed him. I chose to do it.” She clarified. “He...the thing with him and Lia, it isn’t...” She winced inwardly - he had sworn her to secrecy (or at least implied it), and these two were the third and fourth that she had informed (she had surmised that although she had only told Lana, Jake would also be made aware). She needed to fix this. “...what it seems. It’s not as serious as she makes out.”

Phoenix and Edgeworth exchanged glances. “...Ema...”

“I trust him.” She replied staunchly.

“Famous last words, Ema.” Phoenix sighed. “How well do you really know him?”

She looked at them both pointedly. “Better than you.”

“...touche.” Edgeworth conceded. “Clockwise, Ema. Stir the bowl clockwise.”

Phoenix continued to chop. “Ema, would you be so kind as to give me his phone number? I think he and I are going to play poker tomorrow night.”

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. Ever since Phoenix had played poker against Trucy’s father he had got these odd ideas about poker being the one true way to see into a man’s soul. He hadn’t appreciated this, especially given his own lack of talent for the game. It hurt more that he had expected to be good at it – usually he could hide his emotions rather well. It seemed that Phoenix could see through him regardless.

Ema frowned. “I...I suppose...”

Phoenix smiled mysteriously. “I have to practice for meeting Trucy’s boyfriend, and since the opportunity presents itself so elegantly...”

Edgeworth was clearly having an effect on Phoenix’s turn of phrase.

- - -

Sitting around the table with what felt very much like a family was something of a new experience for Ema. As much as her sister had provided all the family she had needed, and as much as they had live with aunts and uncles before they were old enough to live alone, she hadn’t really experienced much of actual family life. Sitting around this table and hearing the banter, the gentle teasing and laughter, the general conversation about daily life – she felt more at home than she had in quite some time. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with Lana over the past few years, and she resolved to alter this after Lana got back.

Trucy had apologised a good twelve times to Ema, each time with more sincerity. Ema had attempted to absolve the girl, but more poured forth each time. Eventually Ema managed to distract her by asking her about Will.

“Well, I think we’re officially together now, cause he gave me his jacket and hasn’t asked for it back, and people seem to think we’re a couple, so yeah.”

“And does he still flirt with all the other girls?” Ema smiled slightly.

Trucy shook her head. “At least, not as much. And that’s ok.”

“So long as you’re both happy, Trucy.”

“And so long as he’s being respectful of your boundaries.” Phoenix interjected sharply.

“Daddy...” Trucy moaned. “That’s so embarrassing!”

“If he hurts you, Trucy, I will punch him.” Apollo stated without irony. Ema bit back a laugh, not quite believing that Apollo would be much of a threat.

Phoenix nodded. “Your brother has a good right hook.”

“Left hook. It was a left hook.” Apollo corrected.

Ema glanced at Edgeworth, who gave her a look indicating that he was as bemused as she was.

Trucy seemed eager to change the topic. “So, Apollo, how’s Vera?” To her delight, Apollo blushed lightly.

“We’re going to the movies on Friday, and she’s interested in seeing your next show, Trucy.” He grinned. “She’s really excited about you being the heir to the Gramarye legacy.”

The idea of an excited Vera was odd enough, let alone a ‘really excited’ one. Phoenix, however, did not appear surprised – he seemed as if he had been planning the entire thing from the beginning (then again, he had begun to wear such a look whenever something good happened, even if it had nothing to do with him). “She’s a sweet girl.” He mused absently.

Ema felt oddly left out as she realised that all of the people she was dining with were at least beginning if not already in established relationships. It wasn’t the first time she felt as if she was the token single girl –

Although she wasn’t really in that position. It wasn’t a clean as being single or attached, she was in a strange limbo, a waiting room – there was potential, but nothing could come of it. For now.

It was rarely as simple as it first appeared.

- - -

Phoenix settled into bed beside Edgeworth. “Tomorrow evening. It’s all arranged.”

Edgeworth smiled slightly, turning the light off and turning to his boyfriend in the halflight. “Do you ever get bored of saving people?”

Phoenix frowned. “I’m not saving Ema...”

“You’re pre-emptively saving her.”

“I’m just looking out for her – “

“Exactly.” Edgeworth shook his head. “You spend most of your time trying to save people, take care of them, keep an eye on them...”

Phoenix pouted. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

Edgeworth touched his cheek. “Nothing at all.” He didn’t seem quite able to say it, but Phoenix knew that the touch was Edgeworth’s way of telling him that, actually, this was one of the reasons he loved him.

Phoenix leaned on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’ll keep doing that, then.”

“Mmm, once you’ve taken the bar again you can get paid for it.” Edgeworth replied absently, clearly in the process of falling asleep.

Phoenix smirked, kissing his cheek. “Soon.”

- - -

The terms of the game had been simple – if Klavier won, he was rewarded with a second invitation to the party. If Phoenix won, he talked – the whole truth.

Although if he was honest, Klavier strongly suspected that it didn’t really matter who won – Phoenix would get the truth out of him regardless.

Either way, he needed the invite (he was loath to take Ema’s, seeing as she was one of the few things which could make the evening bearable) and, if he was honest, morbid curiosity was winning through. He wanted to see what Phoenix could glean from a game of cards, and wanted to see how good he really was at poker.

His reception at the Wright Anything Agency was slightly more welcoming than his previous one, but he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable. It was just himself and Phoenix in the place – or at least, if Trucy was there, she wasn’t saying hello.

What surprised him most was how laid back Phoenix was when he played – it may have been that it was relatively low-stake, but Klavier got the feeling that Phoenix was probably this calm regardless. Despite his opponent’s relaxed demeanour, Klavier could not relax – even when he had a good hand, he could feel Phoenix’s eyes on him.

“Shall we take a break?” Phoenix suggested, rising from his seat and placing his cards, facedown, on the table. “Grape juice?”

Klavier nodded. “Ja, danke.” He always slipped further into German when he felt uncomfortable. He leaned back in the chair, glad they were just playing for pride. He wasn’t great at poker at the best of times, and he strongly suspected that he was even worse at present.

His opponent returned, placing a bottle in front of him. “Well, you pass one test – not looking at the cards.” He gave Klavier a smile – not that Klavier was sure how to interpret that. Had Phoenix thought that little of him? Or was it just him making a joke?

Klavier returned the smile. “Herr Wright, do you really wish to continue? It is sehr obvious that you are victorious.”

“Now, now, Mr Gavin, don’t give up on me now.” Phoenix chided.

Klavier made a face. “I just failed a test, didn’t I?”

Phoenix laughed. “This is just a game of poker, Klavier.” It was the first time Phoenix had used his first name, and – like most of his behaviour that evening – Klavier had no idea what to make of it.

Klavier shook his head. “Nein. Please, Herr Wright, you may deceive me during the game, but do not take me for a fool. We are both aware that this is more than a game. It is a matter of trust.”

“Would you prefer a game or the third degree?” Phoenix replied mildly.

At that point in time, Klavier wasn’t so sure.

Unsurprisingly, Phoenix was the winner of their game – leaving Klavier to bear his soul. And, of course, to give up the only thing that may have possibly made the party he was now fated to attend bearable.

They sat in Phoenix’s lounge – supposedly the entry hall of the Wright Anything Agency, but it was quite obvious to see that it was a family home with ambition. Phoenix handed Klavier another grape juice – “Don’t tell Trucy or Apollo, Miles has them trained to make me give up.”

It took Klavier a moment to work out who Miles was. He had wondered on the previous day, but comments that Ema had made were falling into place.

“You surprised me, Klavier.” Phoenix regarded him with some respect. “I have to say, my expectations for your honesty were low. Then again...given our history...” He smiled wryly. “You can’t really blame me.”

Klavier couldn’t say he fully appreciated this, as justified as it may be. He breathed deeply. “Nein.”

“But...you seem to be, mostly, honest. And trustworthy.” Phoenix leaned back in his seat, drinking thoughtfully. “So.”

Klavier looked away, anticipating what was coming next. From the frosty reception he had received yesterday despite previous civility, he could surmise that this was to do with the recent reception of the newspapers.

What he wasn’t so sure of was why Phoenix seemed so concerned for Ema. Perhaps he’d be permitted to ask his own questions later.

“Tell me the truth.” Phoenix said simply.

Klavier regarded him with some trepidation. “Considering this is a private matter, many people seem to be aware of it.”

“That’s the price you pay for celebrity.” Phoenix replied blandly.

Klavier recounted the tale, not as reluctantly as he should’ve done. “But, of course, this is meant to be secret, to maintain the charade. Although Ema is also aware. The four of us are the only ones who know – and it will remain this way, ja?”

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck. “I believe that Ema’s sister may also be aware.”

Klavier buried his head in his hands, uttering a stream of German obscenities. “We’re going to be discovered.”

Phoenix smirked. “You haven’t met Lana, have you?”

Klavier glanced up.

“Your secret is safe.” Phoenix assured him. “The question is what you intend to do.”

“Go to this party.”

Phoenix arched his eyebrows. “I hate to break it to you, Klavier, but that is an appalling plan.”

Klavier shook his head. “Go to this party, where Lia will find a more famous man than I, and become bored of me. The spotlight shifts to her, I am free to approach Ema.”

Phoenix stroked his chin. “Mmm. You’re sure this is the place to do it?”

“She has Olivier David in mind.”

Phoenix appeared to be deep in thought. “He should certainly be there. He’s got quite an ego.”

“He sounds perfect for her.” Klavier replied darkly. “Herr Wright, why are you so concerned?”

“Miles would tell you it’s because I like saving people. It’s more that I want what’s best for Ema. And at the moment she thinks that’s you.”

“Nein, nein, what I meant was why you are so concerned for Ema?” Klavier frowned.

“Ema assisted me on a case a long time ago – it was a time when I had just lost the only link I had to my mentor – and, truly, one of my closest friends. I was suddenly left alone. Ema asked me to defend her sister against murder charges, and helped me to investigate the case. The poor kid has been through a lot, and I guess that as I discovered more and more about the two sisters, I promised myself that I’d try and prevent her from going through any more.” He smiled. “She’s also turned out to be a great ally, and friend.”

Klavier nodded slightly. “I did not think you knew her that well.”

Phoenix chuckled. “I know her well enough.”

Klavier had a horrible feeling that, when it came down to it, he didn’t.

Monday brought speculation to the precinct – it was noted with interest that Maggey drove Gumshoe to work, and the two parted with a brief kiss. This swiftly became the talk of the office, expanded and embroidered to extremes.

By the time Ema heard it, the two had been seen stumbling out of a car together, clearly having just completed an excessively complicated carnal act.

She also heard the highlights of the weekend (as well as their night out – apparently she had been prevented from dancing on the bar at one point, although Kitty had succeeded, and been quite a hit) – most of the detectives reported sore heads the next morning, but were eager to replicate the night another time. As for those who had woken up with more than a sore head, opinion varied – Genie had sworn off drinking for quite some time (even though the man cooking her breakfast that morning swore that he had in fact spent the night on the sofa – reinforced by marks on said sofa), Bonnie was attempting to organise going out that very evening, and Sadie was tentatively beginning a relationship. On the whole, though, it was accepted that they should definitely all go out again – be it for a “big drunken dancefest” (as Bonnie insisted on calling it) or just a meal.

It was weird, Ema reflected, the way that co-workers could become – well, maybe not friends yet, but certainly more than co-workers. Despite herself Ema had begun to take some pride in her job as she rose to become head detective, and events like this could only help her. Amazing how really quite nice things could surface from what had begun as hideous situations.

Although the opposite was also true, she mused. After feeling really very excited after kissing Klavier, she now felt increasingly insecure. The trust in him she was so sure of when his character had been questioned by Phoenix was a little shaky now. Was she just the latest in a long line of, essentially, groupies? Another girl falling for the rockstar. By actually being attracted to him, had she lost the one thing that attracted him to her?

It made her want to bash her head against a wall.

As an adult, weren’t relationships meant to be less about playing games, wondering what that gesture meant, trying to work out if they were a friend or a “friend”, deducing if any of these actions meant anything? It was much easier back when notes could be passed and the relevant box (DO U LIKE ME? YES [] NO[]) ticked. She had expected to be in some sort of mature setting, where feelings could be spoken of and acknowledged – be those feelings mutual or otherwise.

Everything was meant to be fixed when you grew up.

On the upside, she was allowed to be on crime scenes again – and would, in fact, be going to one this afternoon. It sounded like an open and shut case, but she knew better than that by now – nothing was ever quite as straightforward as it seemed.

The victim had been found inside her own shop, a florist – Acedelia Noir. A bullet wound had been in her shoulder, inconsistent with her own gun. It’d been blood loss which had finished her off – with medical treatment, she probably could’ve survived. Money was missing from the till – it certainly looked like a mugging that had gone wrong. Or perhaps it had been staged that way.

She’d find out soon enough.

There was a knock at her door. “Come in...” She was fairly sure she knew who it was.

“Fraulein.” And she was right. Klavier closed the door behind him, seating himself across the desk from her.

“You do realise that you’re the person that visits me most these days? It’s a little sad, really.” She smiled sadly. “You’re here for the invite?”

He nodded sadly. “I played Herr Wright, but I did not win.” He paused. “Which is not surprising.”

“You played for an invite?”

“I wished to avoid asking you. I meant it when I said you were the one thing that could make the party bearable.”

“Lia would prefer you to spend the evening with Apollo.”

“Lia would not care, she is there for Olivier David. That is the purpose of our attendance at the party.” Klavier grinned. “It is my master plan.”

“You’re distracting her with Olivier David?”

He nodded. “She is happy to pursue him.”

“You think he’ll go for her?” Ema frowned.

Klavier shrugged. “She is beautiful, and willing to pander to his every whim. What man wouldn’t go for her?”

Ema made a face.

“Obviously, I would not like that...” Klavier added hurriedly.

She wasn’t entirely convinced, but let him off with an arch of her eyebrows. She briefly looked through her desk – usually so organised, but since it had actually been used last week its cleanliness had suffered. The invitation was hidden away in her top draw, as well as an emergency pack of Snackoos. Good. Those would come in handy. “Here you are, then. Good luck for your plan.”

He took it from her hand, maintaining the contact much longer than necessary. “If it does go well, Ema...would you accompany me for dinner, next Friday?”

She removed her hand. “If it works.” She avoided his gaze. “But you cannot be sure that it will.”

“I can only do so much.” Klavier replied in an odd tone – it wasn’t quite anger or frustration, it was much more gentle than that.

She met his eyes. “I know, but that doesn’t mean that I like it. I don’t want to wait around for a moment that won’t ever come.”

“Are you asking me to...come clean? So Lia has no hold on me?” He smirked dangerously, shaking his head. “Do you wish to know who it is I am protecting?”

She nodded. “I don’t understand what it could be that has you under her thumb.”

“You.”

She looked at him blankly. “What?”

“Lia knows me well. She recognised that although I denied it to the press, I had genuine feelings for you. She threatened to tell the world.”

Ema tipped her head, still trying to make sense of what she was hearing. “Would that be so wrong? I’m sure there are worse women to be linked to – “

“Nein, nein, it is not shame, fraulein, not at all. You were hounded enough after one story. If it were to come out that you and I were more than friends...even if I was the only one to feel it...your life would be hell. And the fans...”

Ema folded her arms. “That is the worst premise for a false relationship I’ve ever heard.” Not that she had heard many, but still.

“So you believe my fears were unfounded? That I am in this mess for no reason at all?” He replied in a dangerously mild voice – for a moment, Ema was reminded of Kristoph. “Based on one experience of the press.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Klavier laughed a little. “Lia thought you would feel that way. I’m not prepared to test your hypothesis.”

“So you’re protecting me?”

“Exactly, Ema.”

“...Klavier...” She sighed. “People keep acting on my behalf. No good seems to come from it.”

Klavier raised his eyebrows. “No good at all?”

She had to concede that, and smiled sheepishly. “You already told me you cared for, Klavier. All you’ve done is confirmed what I already hoped I knew.”

He frowned. “And yet you give me no response, fraulein.”

She leaned across the table, taking his hands in hers. “I care for you, too, Klavier. And I would love to join you for dinner on Friday, regardless of the plan’s status.” As much as she knew she hadn’t really thought this through (indeed, she was expecting to spend most of the following evening regretting it and going over all the things that could go wrong) it was what her instincts were telling her to do. Over the following evening she would also wonder whether she was simply suggesting it to keep hold of him and keep him interested. She had to learn to stop second-guessing her instincts, especially in situations where gaining scientific evidence was impossible.

He frowned, taken aback. “You wish to meet regardless?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to wait for you, Klavier. I don’t really want to date you while the world believes you’re with someone else, but...” She smiled slightly. “I suppose I’d have to do everything in secret anyway, really, if your fans continue to be slightly psychotic.”

He nodded, affirming that they probably would. “You are sure this is what you want?”

She squeezed his hands. “You are what I want.” It was as she said it that she realised how true it was – she was willing to go through quite a lot to be with him, for his sake. And, the more she thought about it, the more she realised that he was willing to go through a lot for her. There were more difficult challenges than hiding a relationship, or pretending to date an insufferable woman, but they still showed a level of dedication to another person.

He let go of her hands, getting up and moving over to her. “Good.” He murmured, seating himself in her lap and kissing her deeply.

“Shouldn’t we be the other way around?” She whispered breathlessly. Amazing how the brain can go numb and the mouth can be allowed to spill utter crap.

He kissed her again, showing quite clearly that he didn’t much care – not about their relative positions, or the fact that she seemed to be unable to form a meaningful thought.

- - -

Klavier Gavin was writing again.

It was a glorious feeling, his muse was alive and kicking (and, he surmised, at a crime scene, probably using illicit scientific methods – hence the fourth track on the album, Secret Science) and he was having a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon playing with his guitar, writing acoustic tracks that could never have worked on a Gavinners album. He was including some heavier stuff, of course, no sense in alienating the fans.

All in all, his afternoon was working beautifully. He wasn’t involved in the new case as yet – no suspects at present, so nobody to prosecute. By the end of the afternoon they would probably have found somebody and he’d have to spend tomorrow working, exploring the crime scene and potentially doing more harm than good. He was certain that Ema would let him know either way.

But for now, he could let the music take over, return to his old job.

The phone rang – an unfamiliar number.

“Hello?”

“I’ve got a plan for you, Mr Gavin.”

“...Herr Wright, I can see why Herr Edgeworth believes you spend too much time attempting to save people.”

“It isn’t my fault that my plans are better than yours.”

It was a private theory of Apollo and Edgeworth (one they discussed on occasion) that over the years Phoenix had become so used to orchestrating as much as he could behind the scenes, weaving together ideas and preparing things so that he could bring his master plan to fruition that he could not actually stop. As much as he had his “hero complex” as Edgeworth so affectionately called it, they both suspected that Phoenix just enjoyed making plans and seeing how well they worked.

Klavier had to admit that this plan seemed to be fairly good. “I am unsure what my PR man will say. He is already unhappy that I did not tell him about Lia in the first place, although he’s more than happy with the increase in album sales.”

“This could lead to even more profit...” Phoenix reasoned. “Besides, it gets him more work, dealing with the aftermath.”
Klavier made a mental note to recommend Mallaine to Lia as some method of compensation.

- - -

Ema had forgotten how much she loved spending time at crime scenes.

Especially before the forensics team arrived, so that she could test as much as she wished without feeling a judgemental glare on her back, or someone coolly informing her that not only was that not her job, but she was doing it wrong. So far she had gathered various fingerprints and footprints from the scene. Luminol showed a trail of blood – from the looks of things, the body had been dragged from one corner to behind the counter, possibly in an attempt to hide the body. Not that it had done much good – maybe the killer’s logic had been impaired. She didn’t doubt that, once they’d found a suspect, Klavier and Apollo (she presumed this would the combination of attorneys involved; it usually was) would debate between themselves as to why the body had been moved. Probably for a long period of time.

They had, it seemed, found a witness – the owner of the opposite cafe had been working late, and seen some things through the window. Positive identification of the perpetrator wasn’t possible as yet, but at least the woman was able to give some idea of what happened. She had, apparently, only witnessed the cleaning process afterwards, not the actual murder.

Another thing that Klavier and Apollo could clash horns over.

Other than apparently being handy with a mop, the witness reported the perp as being tall, male and skinny. The next plan was to find out if anyone in the victim’s life matched that description. Ema suspected they’d come across quite a few men who matched that description – it could’ve fitted a lot of men in the city.

The gun hadn’t been fired at point blank range – there’d clearly been some distance between killer and victim. Ema suspected that Noir had been forced into a corner, before she was shot.

Of course, another question was why a florist had a gun. One had been found in the safe in the apartment above the shop, although the apartment itself seemed untouched so far. They had found the victim’s cell phone and address book, and she suspected some poor low-ranking detectives were being forced to go through them and find anyone who fitted the description given by the witness.

Then, of course, they’d have their suspect, and therefore someone to prosecute, and therefore they would need a prosecutor. So Klavier would be making a mess of her precious crime scene.

She’d better make sure that she managed to get all the evidence she could. Her affection for the man didn’t mean that she was blind to his ability to ruin a well laid out crime scene.

She had to admit that the upstairs apartment was nice – very nice. Clearly floristry was profitable. The more she looked into it, the more she was struck by the quality of the furnishings in there. Most of them were designer.

There was no way a florist could’ve afforded these things. She’d read the prices of the bouquets downstairs, even if the entire stock was sold every day, that wasn’t enough to be able to afford even the clock on the wall. Something was off about this place.

Not that she had any idea what that was, of course.

- - -

The suspect was, according to Kitty, totally cute.

He had been the victim’s boyfriend, and once the witness had seen him, she positively identified him – as best she could. He had confirmed it himself, though – yes, he had gone to the shop last night, and yes, he had cleaned the floor.

But, apparently, he had not killed her.

She had been dead when he got there, and he had found the door open when he’d got there. No forced entry, whoever had killed her had used a key – it was after hours, so the door hadn’t been open.

The key found in the lock was the one belonging to the suspect. Apparently he had left it behind – convenient, but not unlikely. He probably hadn’t been in his right mind.

He maintained that he had found her, behind the counter, and that he had seen the bloodstain on the floor. Knowing how much Delia (as he had known her) had valued a clean shop, he had cleaned it. Apparently it was something he’d often done when they’d dated. It was funny, he said hollowly, the way instinct kicks in when one is scared.

His name was Jason Guinevair, and he had only begun to date the victim about a week ago. He had met her when buying flowers for his (then) girlfriend, Juno Verrad. He confessed that this may seem like terrible behaviour, but that there had been something in the way that Delia had served him which told him that they were meant to be together.

He informed them that Delia had had expensive tastes, and that she put stock in the finer things in life. Coming as he did from old money, Jason had been more than able (and happy) to provide for her.

The wheels were turning in Ema’s head, although when she turned to Kitty to discuss this she noted that Kitty was, in fact, staring at Jason in adoration.

There was still mystery surrounding the gun used to actually kill the victim. A search of his home yielded no such weapon, although this didn’t mean he hadn’t done it. It just made their job a little harder.

As much as they were unable to tie him to the weapon (not good for a murder case), there was enough to build some sort of case around him. He had been placed at the scene (his prints were on the mop used to clean the place, which he had thoughtfully returned to its proper place) and didn’t have an alibi for the entire night – he had been visited by his ex, Juno, earlier that evening, but had spent the rest of the evening alone. Later he had realised he hadn’t heard from Delia, and went to check that she was alright.

She hadn’t been.

Ema wasn’t convinced. Kitty was, but Ema suspected this was due to her attraction to him. It struck her that it may have been worth bringing in another detective, one less distracted by Jason’s good looks.

Ema made the decision that it may be worth looking up this Juno woman, and possibly more of Acedelia’s ex-boyfriends. As well as, of course, finding the murder weapon.