The hot August weather wasn't relenting anytime soon, much to Allen Walker's dismay. He pulled at his collar, hoping to loosen it enough to allow a touch of air under his damp shirt, even if it was only warm air. He was ready to welcome Autumn's cool embrace, as long as this blasted heat would let up. He grew tired of sweating through three shirts a day. At this rate, his laundry bill would skyrocket to astronomical proportions.

He adjusted the box in his hands, shifting the package from one arm to the other as he tried to brush his sweat-dampened hair from his face. He needed to get to his destination before he collapsed from heatstroke. The early afternoon sun was not kind to him, and he wished then that he had worn a hat. Even the light shade it would provide would have been better than nothing.

Allen started down the cobblestone streets, avoiding other sweaty pedestrians as he tried to keep his package from jostling too much on the trip.

'Just a bit further,' he told himself. He kept mindful of each step, avoiding bumping into people as he walked. One wrong move and this trip would be for nothing.

Finally, Allen made it to the apartment, the box and himself intact. He stared at the number on the door— 221B. A sigh of relief passed through his lips. Not bothering to knock, Allen opened the door, finding it unlocked.

However, the relief was short-lived.

As soon as he opened the door, a scream echoed in the apartment. Allen's silver eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he clutched the package to his chest as he watched a potted plant land not two feet from his position at the front of the door. The scream, female by the sound of it, left his nerves on edge.

"Oh, Mr. Walker! I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry! He's in another of his moods today. I don't know what to do!" The woman had tears in her dark eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Her black dress was covered in dirt, and the white apron she wore looked as if it had seen better days. He could've sworn he saw singe marks.

Allen sighed. He had hoped it wouldn't be like this, but he should have known better. "Don't worry, Miss Miranda. I'll take care of it. Why don't you just go home?"

Miranda shook her head, the dark gloom around her seeming to grow at the mere mention of taking the rest of the day off. "No, I couldn't! There's too much to be done, and he—"

"No worries, Miss Miranda." Setting his neatly wrapped box on a small table to his left, he took Miranda's shaking hands and pulled her towards the door. "Just go home and get some rest. You deserve it, having to put up with him all the time."

"But, Mr. Walker—"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything." He had her out the door and down the front steps before she could protest any further.

"I-If you insist," Miranda replied, finally giving in. Her shoulders relaxed immediately, the stress of having to deal with her eccentric boss no longer a concern. She heaved a long, heavy sigh, then gave Allen a soft, worried smile. "Good luck with him today."

Allen nodded, resisting the urge to run away as well. "Thank you. I think I might need it." He closed the door and looked down at the potted plant again. The clay pot had broken, and black dirt tumbled across the carpeted entryway. Allen shook his head and grabbed the wrapped box, heading upstairs.

The entire apartment was a cluttered mess — more than usual. He was used to his friend's hoarding habit, something that irked him to no end. Allen preferred clean spaces with minimal clutter, and coming into this apartment always put him on edge. He wanted to clean. Organize. Maybe run screaming into the hills at the utterly incurable disaster that was Lavi Bookman's home.

But, Allen had to remind himself, this wasn't his home and it wasn't his business to be telling his friend how to live.

As he reached the top of the stairs, a book came flying out of the study. If his reflexes weren't as good, Allen would've been beaned right in the nose. The hardcover text bounced for a few feet before sliding to a stop near the far wall.

"I don't have time for this, Miranda! Just get it out of here!" came a call from the study.

Allen sighed, adjusting the package in his arms once more before turning the corner and entering the study. "Miranda's gone. I gave her the day off."

Lavi looked up, confused to not hear the voice he had been expecting. When he saw Allen, he went back to what he had been working on. "Well, that was stupid. She's supposed be helping me."

Allen set the package down on the desk in the study, or rather, a pile of papers stacked on top of the desk that looked stable enough to hold the box. Once he was certain the box was out of immediate danger, he turned to look at Lavi.

The redhead was a mess, though that wasn't out of the ordinary. He was still dressed in his bedclothes, even though it was well past noon, and his robe hung open as he sat on the floor, sorting through piles of papers and books.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this," Allen started, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes to regain some composure. "But what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"I've forgotten something," was Lavi's distracted reply. He didn't look up at Allen, his hands still diligently searching through the pile of papers.

"Oh, yes. I see. That explains everything." Of course it explained nothing, but Allen was used to not understanding where Lavi's mind was half the time. He'd catch up eventually. He just needed to be patient.

"Since you so kindly dismissed my housekeeper without my permission, I'm guessing you've volunteered to help me?"

"I suppose I have. Are you going to throw more books and potted plants my way? Or was that just for Miranda's sake?"

Lavi sighed, as if taking the time to explain his actions to Allen was a waste. "I didn't throw them at her. I just threw them. It's not my fault if she was in the crossfire."

"And you threw them because?" Allen asked, prompting the redhead for more of an explanation. He was still missing some key part of Lavi's reasoning.

"They were in the way. I need to figure this out, Allen."

Allen fought the urge to sigh again. It was a particularly bad day if Lavi was this curt with him and Miranda. He already felt better for sending her home early. She didn't need to deal with Lavi when he was this unstable.

"All right. I give up. I'll help you." Allen unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows and sitting down on the floor with Lavi. At least the hardwood was cool to the touch and helped ward off the oppressive heat. He had no idea how Lavi was still wearing his robe. It was too hot for such nonsense.

"What am I looking for?" Allen asked, picking up a piece of paper and looking at Lavi's messy scrawled handwriting on it.

"If I knew, then I wouldn't be so worked up, would I?" Lavi pursed his lips into a thin line, tossing another book over his shoulder when he deemed it useless to his endeavor.

This time, Allen didn't bother to hide his frustration. His shoulders slumped and he let out an exaggerated sigh. "How are we supposed to find something if you don't know what it is?"

Lavi paused in his search and looked Allen dead in the eyes. "Al, I don't forget. Ever. But I know I'm not remembering something and it's driving me crazy! What if I'm forgetting something important? What if I'm forgetting a key point to one of our cases? Some criminal could be getting away with murder and I'll have forgotten a piece of evidence that could put him away for good."

"And you think the answer is in this pile of notes?" Allen asked, less perturbed than he had been moments ago. Lavi's memory was perfect, and it also unnerved Allen that he had forgotten something. Had Hell frozen over?

"Well, I have no other way to figure out what I'm forgetting," Lavi added, sifting through the notes again. He grabbed one, scrutinized it for a short moment, then tossed it aside. He repeated the process over and over again.

"I'm sure you can figure it out. You always do." Allen watched him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. He usually felt those two emotions simultaneously when with the redhead. "Have you eaten anything at all today?"

"No time." Another couple of loose notes were tossed to the side.

"There's always time for food," Allen said, standing up and walking back to the desk. He grabbed the box he had brought in and sat back down on the floor. Placing the box next to Lavi, Allen smiled. "Here. This will have to do for breakfast, because knowing you, all you have left in the kitchen are stale crackers and dried beans."

Lavi looked at the box, his face scrunching up in confusion. "What is this?"

"Open it."

Lavi rolled his green eye and did as Allen asked, first untying the twine from around the box, then lifting the lid off of it. Inside was a small, neatly decorated cake. The majority of the cake was frosted over with white icing, then embellished with orange flowers with twirling green vines and leaves.

Lavi stared at the cake for a moment, then looked back at Allen. The confusion still never left his face. "What the hell is this for?"

Allen raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. His mouth wouldn't work for a long moment until something clicked in his mind. He smiled. "Lavi. What's today?"

"Today is Tuesday."

"The date?"

"Uh…" Lavi scoured his mind for the date, but he couldn't remember.

"August 10th," Allen supplied, nudging the cake towards the redhead.

Lavi's jaw hung open as he took a breath to say something, but the words were lost as he suddenly realized how foolish he had been the entire day. He let out a long breath, blowing at the bangs falling in his eyes. "It's August?"

"Yes, Lavi." Allen had trouble keeping the smile off his face. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up laughing and he knew the redhead wouldn't appreciate being made fun of. Hoping to soften the blow some, he pulled another package out of his coat pocket, this one smaller. It was wrapped in simple, white paper, and Allen handed it to his friend. "You might need this."

Lavi took the gift, eyeing Allen as he unwrapped the item. Inside was a silver pocket watch, already wound up and ticking softly. When he opened the protective cover, he could see the time and date were displayed for easy reading. It was indeed August 10th.

"Happy birthday, Lavi," Allen said, leaning in and kissing the redhead on the cheek.

Lavi was still too stunned to react to the kiss as he stared at the watch in his hand. He looked up, his single, green eye unfocused for a long moment, then finally met Allen's amused gaze. "My birthday. I forgot my birthday."

"Yes, you did," Allen answered, grabbing some of the loose notes and books in an attempt to stack them into a neat pile. "Can we get off your floor and eat cake now?"

"I suppose so. No point in searching through this mess now," Lavi said, standing up and taking the cake with him to the desk. "I can't believe I forgot my birthday."

"Well, now that you have a proper watch, you won't forget again. Right?"

Lavi snickered, swiping his finger against one of the ornate frosting flowers on the cake, the frosting sticking to his skin as he pulled it to his lips for a taste. "Mm. Let's hope so." He looked back over at Allen, who shook his head as Lavi messed up the cake. "What would I do without you, Al?"

"Probably terrorize Miranda more," Allen suggested with a grin.

Lavi laughed and took another swipe at the cake's frosting. "Probably."