:TheoManoo: Yes, Telepopmusi's awesomeness is forever 8DDDDD

Note : So yeah. What was it that I said on chapter one? "Slight Klavipollo"? Yeah, I take it back. This is klavipollo alright. And yeah, while I was writing this, my friend looked over my shoulder and said – SMUT PWEEZE :D

So I tried – not in this story but on a new document – to type something remotely smutty. My smut looks like this :

Klav : Apollo? XD

Apollo : Yes XD

Klavi : Let's get laid :3

Apollo : Okay 8D

Oh, and I never got further than the doorbell.

...My smut is phail. 8D

In the fields where we find sanctuary,

Eternal Summer, she's divine -

The circle opens, your hand in mine

Azura, Azura;

**

XI : Eternal Summer II

"Wh-Wh-WHAT?"

Klavier's mind went blank. It went blank the way it would if it was a slate and someone had taken a large cloth and scrubbed it clean. It went blank the way it would if his mind was a Cane Toad and someone had just rubbed Dettol all over it. It went blank, in short, like a mind of a person who has just been told the thing he least expects to hear in his life. Imagine right now if someone walked into the room and claim, with scientific proof – that you are actually the love child of a Saiyan.

There are many things that Klavier could safely claim he had expected Apollo to say – starting with 'Thank You' or even, less likely but not impossible – 'I love you.' In fact, he would have gladly believed Apollo if he had said 'I want to bear you many children' But not 'Would you like to come in?' because that was the one thing on Earth he would never have expected Apollo to say, not standing in front of his apartment door, at any rate.

Apollo merely look embarrassed, and shifted uncomfortably. "You don't have to if you don't want to," He muttered under his breath, the way someone would when they want you far far away. Kind of like those insincere offerings at parties – someone would show you the last snack on a plate and ask you if you want it, all the way glaring at you to tell you to please leave the snack alone and fuck off.

Klavier merely gagged.

"Why...?"

Apollo looked away. "There's someone I would like you to meet."

Kristoph Gavin.

Of course, the words hung in midair, like the announcement of an execution. Of whose – Klavier didn't like to think.

What he was thinking was - why? Why would Apollo suddenly invite him into his apartment? His first thought – and perhaps he should be ashamed of himself for thinking like this but he isn't – was that Apollo had decided to betray Kristoph a second time, just like he was doing by being part of this whole operation to recapture Kristoph. After all, a small voice whispered to him, if he could do this to his brother, why shouldn't Apollo, who's not even technically related to Kristoph by blood? The fact remains though, that Apollo was the one protecting Kristoph while he was the one walking around with--

He froze and stared down at a spot on his chest.

--With a fucking bug. He gasped.

"I ah- I need to go to the toilet."

"Klavier?" Apollo's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak– but Klavier didn't catch much after that because he had turned around and started running down the hallway.

"I'll be back!" He shouted over his shoulder – but Apollo only screamed furiously after him.

"Klavier! Where are you--"

And then his feet brought him around the corner and Apollo's voice was drowned off by the distance, the only thing still audible was the faint here ere ere ere ere ere sound. It sounded like someone who had cupped their mouth and shouted down into a long tunnel, Klavier registered vaguely.

The elevator took too long to arrive – elevators in Apollo's apartment had always took forever to arrive – and he bent down on the corner and swoop into the staircase instead. From there on it was just one long journey of footsteps and more footsteps, spiraling downwards to where the ground floor – as well as the public toilets were. The footsteps echoed in the enclosed space, and in his haste, it almost sounded to Klavier as if someone was chasing after him, and their footsteps accompanied the cacophony his own boot heels were making. He had no idea why he was rushing anyway.

If Kazaf was telling the truth and the bug really was on satellite – someone down at the precinct would have heard that. Chances are, at this time in the morning Kazaf would probably be sleeping in – but that was besides the point. Anyone could be there, Nail or Ema or Gumshoe – and that someone would have heard Apollo asking him if he wanted to go into the house and they would be listening and--

He stopped in the middle of the stairs.

What was he doing?

Wasn't the purpose of the bug to record Kristoph's existence in Apollo's apartment? Why the hell was he rushing off in the opposite direction – with what seemed to be the intent to get rid of it, no less? He had no idea why his feet was taking him towards the public toilet – especially since his bladder, along with the rest of his organs seem to have undergo petrification – but he seemed to be trying to get rid of the bug or-or well - Something!

Klavier stared at the edge of the stairs, where it led down to the door with the EXIT sign. The truth was, he lied when he said he had no idea. The truth is, he's scared. Scared of walking in and having to face his brother again. Scared of Kazaf bursting in with a shitload of officers to arrest Kristoph, and having to look him and Apollo in the eye while he was doing it. But mostly it was the prospect of seeing Kristoph again that terrified him. He would know that Klavier had arrived on their doorsteps after he escaped. He would know that Klavier was probably digging up information on him.

He would know that Klavier wanted him back in jail. How was he supposed to face him? What was he supposed to say? Gee, I'm so sorry, bruder – but you know what? I think I like it better when you were behind bars. So sorry, but after all your hard work, I'm going to have to arrest you. And maybe someone would slap a couple of handcuffs on dear old Kristoph and do the old Miranda Warning. You have the right to remain silent yada, yada.

If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.

He snorted at the idea, and leaned against the musty cement walls, sliding down it. This part of the apartments were the better parts, and at least it was a small consolation that no one peed at the stairs.

What the hell was he doing here?

He slipped a hand into his jacket and unattached the small device – oval and black and looking exactly like what they called it, a bug. If he curled his hands around it now, the thing would probably be crushed, that was how fragile it was. Of course, it was also powerful enough to put a powerful man behind bars until he stopped being anywhere, so maybe it wasn't so fragile after all. Klavier lifted it up against the small light latched onto the side of the stairs to illuminate the place, as well as the large painted 4 on the wall – and stared at it fascinatingly.

He wanted to see his brother again, he realized.

Maybe he should have done that while he was still in prison, but he hadn't – too caught up with himself. It was always back to the same old routine again, Klavier over everyone else. Klavier first, everyone else is second. Maybe his brother was right during their last encounter – he WAS a spoiled brat. Well, he had a chance now.

His decision made, Klavier carefully lifted the bug and placed it on the light instead. The light was old, and it emitted a faint buzzing sound that would render anyone listening on the end obsolete. All they would hear is the sound of the light buzzing, and it would sound like Klavier had just dropped from urban L.A right into the middle of a night rainforest. Maybe someone had built a tracker into it too, but he doubted it. He latched it onto the light. Then he started climbing up. Ten minutes later, he was back on the twenty-first floor again. Apollo was standing in front of his apartment, looking a little dazedly at the opposite wall, the flowers still hanging from his hands.

He was right, Klavier thought a little vaguely as he ascended the last steps. The flowers are kind of over-the-top. But those thoughts perished as Apollo looked up to the sound of his heels. Apollo deserved a shower of flowers, and more.

"You're back," He announced – as though he couldn't quite believe his own eyes, or maybe he couldn't quite believe the impunity of Klavier to have returned.

Klavier raised his hands sideways and let them fall back down. "So I am," He shrugged. Apollo looked at him, still a little dazed. He rather thought that if he was close enough, Apollo would reach out and pinch him on the cheeks to see if he was real. That thought inexplicably made him smile, and he turned on his Klavier Gavin charm. When in doubt, put the charm to maximum output – it'll save you from a world of hurt.

"Achtung, Herr Forehead, You are dreaming, ja? Is the offer still open?"

Apollo jerked a little – a strange motion between a nod and a shrug and a shake of the head. "Yes," He mumbled.

"Then, lead the way – we march."

The man sat in the dark room, surrounded on all sides by computer screens that flickered every now and then to display different information. Each of them were timed, and they periodically shifted between documents that needed the occupant's attention. The man counted. There were a total of nine computer screens – but this once, six of them were shut down, and only three flickered through weakly.

He tapped lightly onto the keyboard with his gloved hands, and the three screens flicked. Again, and again, but no – he grunted. What he was looking for wasn't here. He must be more careful than he had imagined then. He reached forward and turned the three screens off, jabbing the button glowing in the dark with red outlines running across it's surface. The button sank, and the three screens turned black. Then the red lights went off too, and the room was dark again – the curtains pulled across to shield all signs of sun from it.

In the dark, sounds could be heard. Ruffling, and breathy, like a husky lover's whisper.

"...Is it?"

…sssss

"Would you like to come in?"

The voices were hoarse, but there was no doubt that someone was indeed speaking. The man wasn't quite sure who was speaking, but that was not what he was here for. He was a tool – a means to reach an end. It was not his job to find out what The End means. He leaned forward again, and this time, he inserted a disk into the computer that was recording silently, like H.G Well's invisible man, and copied all the files.

He stood. He was done here.

His first impression of his brother was that he was unchanged.

The room was well lit, an interior decorator's dream. Soft, flimsy curtains that gave way at the slightest hint of a breeze; wooden floors that extended long, vertical planks from the entrance in, making it look like some ancient Japanese pathway, surrounded on both sides by doors. And at the end of it, leading into the well-carpeted living room where soft music was playing – his brother.

From afar, Klavier thought he looked exactly the way he did when he first visited him in prison. Or maybe it was the second time, he didn't really remember now. Klavier had walked into his cell, and he had seen his brother from afar – just like now – reading a book on that armchair of his with his legs crossed at the heels – the model of the perfect English gentleman. Klavier remembered what he thought then though – Kristoph did not look like he belongs in the prison. In fact, he did not look like he belonged anywhere but on someone's maiden aunt's verandah, sipping tea with a charming smile. But he was in prison, that was an immutable fact, no matter what he looked like.

Kristoph was still like that now, sitting on an armchair – a perfect replica of the one in prison. In fact, it was probably from the same set, and it just made the feeling of déjà vu all the more stronger. He looked like a king, Klavier thought – a little bemused, a little in awe. Like some kind of king in those fairy tales of faraway kingdoms where the king would sit on his throne and wait patiently with a benevolent smile at whoever was walking towards them, head bobbing a little generously, their crown shining. Kristoph had a crown too – except his was hewn down a long time ago.

As he got closer though, he realized that perhaps the well-known proverb was wrong. 'Don't judge a book by it's cover'. Perhaps they should have said – don't judge the book until you've seen it twice, because his brother wasn't as unchanged as he first thought. The light changed a little as he stepped closer, the sun no longer as blinding as from afar. He started seeing things now that he couldn't see from afar, from the doorway – little subtle things that may be little, but were still there. Things for example, like the fact that Kristoph was a lot thinner than the last time he had seen him. In fact, he looked careworn. Still smiling, still pristine, but the faint signs of tiredness was there. It was reflected in a slight droop of the shoulders, or maybe it was the way he sat – no longer perfectly straight.

Klavier felt an inexplicable to turn around and yell at Apollo. Was he underfeeding his brother? Did he lock him up in a closet and starve him? Was that why Kristoph was so damned thin? Was he the reason why Kristoph looked like he hadn't slept for days, nor eaten? Well, was it?

But then his brother smiled, and he forgot all about that.

"Hello, Klavier." He said. Exactly like a king, Klavier thought. Exactly like a king.

"Hey," He mumbled in return. Then silence lapsed. In the end, he decided on the most cordial of responses. "How did you get out?"

Kristoph smiled teasingly. "Haven't you heard? I blew a new hole in the prison wall." Klavier cracked a smile back, and abruptly everything was alright again. The axis of the world, which until now had been spinning correctly, had suddenly lowered itself so that it could spin a little slower for the people in it to breathe a little easier. Klavier sank into the bean bag nearby, and hugged the pillow on it. It smelled clean and shampoo-ey, like Apollo. He looked up, but Apollo had disappeared off.

"How are things down in the prosecutor's office?"

Klavier's smile hung on. That was the right way to go. Stick to small topics, and you'll be fine. "Actually, Lana is driving all of us nuts. She made all of us file an archive of all the work we do for a month for her to check."

"Is that so? And you failed to comply, I'm guessing."

"Ach – you don't trust me?"

"Knowing you, there will be doodles all over your archive."

"Now, see here..."

And then it just started pouring out. Word for word. First it was the normal stuff, normal banter, office talk. Things that they would say to each other if they met under a pedestrian bridge somewhere downtown. Then it was stuff like the whole scandal with the nude pictures. Klavier had some sort of idea somewhere in his head that Kristoph might have been the one to send them, but talking to him simply dispersed them all, like paper planes in the wind. Then they discussed the press, and from there it was just one topic after another. Sometimes it was serious stuff like the nature of humans, and how they acted. The stereotyping of people around them. Then it moved on to badmouthing acquaintances – everyone from their old nursemaid to Kazaf, and even in one instance – Apollo.

"He snores like a bear – I swear to God," Kristoph had confided. A loud harumph had echoed somewhere from the study, and they had giggled like schoolchildren caught up in cutting their mother's favourite magazine. Eventually, Klavier felt comfortable enough to breach the subject of his escape.

"So why did you decide to leave anyway?"

Kristoph tilted his head upwards thoughtfully, and tapped his chin. "You know, I really have no idea."

"Ach – seriously?"

"Well, not really," Kristoph admitted. "It was the shock of the death warrant I suppose. That sped up the decision a little. I figured if no one is going to visit me in prison, I'll turn the tables around and visit them instead." He looked pointedly at Klavier while he said this and he flushed.

"I was busy," He muttered under his breath.

Kristoph merely raised a sceptical eyebrow and Klavier flushed, momentarily glancing out of the window. In his mind he was six again and his brother fourteen, and his brother would be yelling at the top of his voice at him, telling him that he was the worst brat he had ever met in his life and would he GET OUT?

"I did visit you once after Drew Misham." He pointed out, but it was halfheartedly. He didn't want the topic to swing back down to their last meeting, but it swung back anyway.

"Yes, I called you a spoiled brat then, I believe." Kristoph looked apologetic. Klavier shrugged carelessly, trying to shove off the topic. "I'm sorry about that."

Klavier bit his lip.

"It's true actually," He admitted. "Did you know what was the first thought I had when I realized you were really the one at fault during that trial?"

Kristoph shrugged lightly, but he was looking attentively at him.

"My first thought was : I wonder what the press is going to say about this." He forced himself to raise his eyes and look his brother in the eyes, expecting something to be there. Disappointment perhaps, or outrage. But he only looked blankly at him. "Ach, I know it's dumb. But I guess maybe I'm so immersed in the showbiz that I think more like a rock star than a lawyer."

When his brother said nothing, he pressed on. "Or maybe it was that you're right – and I'm really a spoiled brat. Everything's been about me for so long that I forget sometimes that there are other people on Earth other than myself."

Kristoph merely smiled. "You're a spoiled brat," He mumbled lazily. His eyes were half closed, as though he was dozing off. "But that is what is charmante about you, yes?"

"Charming, huh." Klavier snorted. "I've heard myself described with a dozen adjectives, but that is the first time I encounter 'charming'. Now you on the other hand..."

He rattled on and on, telling his big brother everything that he had thought of him, then he moved on to telling him about things that had happened since down at the office, his life, and so on. Kristoph nodded weakly, then fueled by the warm spring breeze, he seemed to have fallen asleep, his head resting on one hand propped up by the chair. Klavier smiled at the sight of his brother dozing off and silently stood up, walking into the study where Apollo was sitting cross-legged on a swiveling chair and examining a file.

"Hey," He mumbled awkwardly. Apollo looked up.

"Oh. Hey." He glanced through the doorway in the general direction of Kristoph. "Ran out of topics?"

"Nah, he fell asleep. You know me – I can talk forever."

Apollo looked relieved, and put down the file, clipping the paperworks back neatly into place. He gestured at a nearby chair, and Klavier sank into it.

"That's good – he hasn't been sleeping at all lately."

"Why not?"

"I have no idea," Apollo sighed. "I go to bed, and I see him perched on a chair, and I wake up the next day – he's still on the same spot. And let's just say I don't think it's because he's an early riser."

Klavier smirked. "Maybe it's because you're a late worm."

"I can't be later than you, Mr.-I'm-Always-Late-For-Trials." He retorted. Apollo hummed thoughtfully along with the music playing from the stereo, a little scratchy from being on too long, Klavier presumed. He breached the silence with a question.

"What made you invite me in?"

Apollo hummed somemore before he was willing to answer. "Kristoph wanted me to do that. Frankly if it was me – I wouldn't. You're untrustworthy." He turned his nose up at him and Klavier smirked.

"Then why invite me in?"

"Kristoph wanted it."

Klavier considered telling him about what he might have let slipped to the PD – it was his, and Kristoph's right to know after all. Any moment now and he expected the door to burst apart and their little window of peace be interrupted rudely by the police. But...He was afraid. Afraid of that forehead crumpling in a scowl, and a glare that would be filled with both accusation and hatred. And of course, he was chicken. Instead, he said,

"You realize that I am on the police force, ja?" That was as much a confession he could utter.

"I know," Apollo retorted. "Any fool in the rain can guess that. What else am I to think – that you woke up one day and realized you were head over heels in love with me?"

The last question was rhetoric, and it was tinged with just the slightest hint of bitterness. Klavier hadn't noticed it of course – he wouldn't fain admit that his Herr Forehead was anything short of perfect.

"You're right – I definitely hadn't woke up one day in January and realized I was head over heels in love with you."

The pen in Apollo's hand started scratching across the paper forcefully, punctuating holes across the paper.

"...I realized I was in love with you way before that."

The pen stopped, and so did Apollo. His gaze hovered narrowly on the paper, and nowhere else.

"Maybe you should save that for someone else, Gavin."

And that was just it. Hearing his last name from Apollo snapped him right into two. Months. Almost two whole freaking months.

"Can I know something, Herr Forehead?"

"Yes?" He asked cautiously.

"What's wrong with me?" He snapped.

"What's wrong with you...?"

"Ja. What's wrong with me that I'm so utterly, completely unlovable? Is there something like STUPID written on my forehead? Or maybe it is something in my personality that you are displeased with?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Apollo replied.

"Danke, Herr Forehead. I am much relieved to hear that I'm alright after all," He raised one upper lip in an exaggerated expression of disdain. "Then the obvious reverse question is this, ja? What's wrong with YOU? Why are you playing so damned hard to get?"

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are," Klavier hissed, standing up. "You've been playing hard to get from Day One. I hand you flowers, and you ask me where to put them. I pay you compliments, and tell me to present them to someone else. I ask you out on dates, and you tell me to fuck off – exactly how isn't that playing hard to get? Huh?"

Apollo merely looked at him coldly. "I wasn't aware that I was under an obligatory debt to play nice."

"Okay. Maybe so. Why then? If there's nothing wrong with me, is there something wrong with you? Do you like someone else – is that it?"

He crossed his arms. "Klavier – really, enough with the charade. Haven't we given what you want? Why are you still bothering me?"

"BECAUSE IT'S NOT A CHARADE!" Klavier roared. "Is your forehead really so thick that nothing can penetrate through it? "

"Maybe it is," Apollo whispered softly. All his energy expended, Klavier fell back onto the chair. He would have liked to run out of the place and never step back in, or face him in the same courtroom again – but at the same time, it was like drugs – you simply can't let go of it once you have a taste. So you just keep stuffing your face with it until you die of cocaine up your brain.

"Maybe what is, Apollo? I can't understand you." And it was true too. Beating around the bush was not something he liked when it was done to him, especially when it was completely incoherent, like Apollo's.

"Maybe my forehead really is so thick that nothing can get pass it."

"Bullshit," Klavier snapped, crossing his arms. "Alright – let's do this courtroom style, no fuss. What's your case summary, Defense? What do you have to say to the charge of being irrevocably stupid?"

Apollo smiled weakly at that. "I don't know. I guess maybe it's that I don't trust you-" Klavier opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off, adding. "And even if I did, I'm not sure if I like you well enough."

Klavier's eyes nearly bugged out at that.

"Don't give me that look – and before you start again, there's nothing wrong with you. It's just that, let's face it – you're so...So....Guitar Strings. Whereas I'm more like the foot of the piano. Hell no, scratch that. I'm more like the stool people sit on. How does that mesh?"

Klavier stared at him incredulously. If that was his case summary for real, then this was one court case he would lose thoroughly. "That's it? That's what's stopping you? That's ALL?"

He shifted uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Well yes! But it's a very important fact! I mean- even our horoscopes don't match, have you realized that? I'm a Virgo and you're a Leo and-- Why are you smiling, Gavin?"

"You've just lost your case."

"I just WHAT? Klavier, speak sense."

He smirked. "You just lost your case," He repeated.

"And you've just lost your sanity," Apollo snapped.

"Okay, how about this. If that's all that's stopping you – I'll FORCE you to accept the fact that I am everything you can ever wish for."

"Wow, modesty. Such a rare thing in youths these day."

Klavier merely smiled and stood, stepping over towards Apollo. Apollo shrank back on his chair, shifting to the right to maintain maximum distance between the two of them.

"What are you doing, Klavier?" He asked suspiciously. Klavier merely inched closer. "I should warn you – if you manhandle me I swear I'l press charg---WHA-OBJECT--!"

Klavier merely leaned down, grab Apollo by the lapels, yank a flustered Apollo up, and kissed him.

On the lips.

Kristoph stirred awake some time later. His eyelashes fluttered, and then it was his eyes that opened, and the first thing he saw was well, the sky. He had been angled towards the window, and his eyes hurt a little now – the way it did when you stare at the sun for too long. His first thought was : What a beautiful dream.

He had dreamt that Klavier had walked into their apartment – and he had spoken to him, had seen his brother, and they had exchanged words. That was what conversation usually entailed, but it seemed even more imperious that it was exchanging words and not talking, because talking sometimes meant that only one side of them was verbose. But exchanging words is a much more wonderful term, it implied that thoughts have been exchanged, that a connection has been made. He sighed. What a wonderful dream. If only he had them more often.

Kristoph glanced up at the clock – and realized that he must have doze off longer than he had thought. Apollo would no doubt be irritated at him about the whole camping trip, and so he stirred himself to get off the chair. He had drifted down to the study, when he started hearing their voices.

"GET OFF ME KLAVIER!"

"Nein – you don't have to be shy, ja?"

"If you don't release me in five seconds, I'll break your nose."

Kristoph blinked a little, clearing his thoughts. So...It wasn't a dream after all? Klavier was really here – in the flesh, and he smiled at the picture of the both of them grappling. Klavier obviously trying to smooch Apollo and Apollo adamant about the one meter rule.

"I'll like to see you try," Klavier chuckled, prodding a finger into Apollo's flabby upper arm. "Perhaps you should lift weights before you try again, ja? I don't--"

He was cut off by a fist across the face.

"Ow! What was that for!?"

Apollo shoved him off and backtrack a couple of steps, breathing heavily with exertion. "You, sir – are the most contemptible creation in this side of the hemisphere and if this was court I can assure you that you are in CONTEMPT OF COURT!"

Klavier winced a little at the volume, and Kristoph stepped a little backwards, out of sight.

"But this isn't the court, ja?" From where Kristoph was standing, he could only see the back of Klavier's head – but the confused shake of the head was noticeable all the same. He was shaking his head as though he was trying to pour the noise back out of his ringing ears.

"Well- FINE! I'M FINE! If it's not court, then you're in contempt- you're in contempt of me!"

"Under what crime am I--"

"Sexual Harassment!" Apollo screeched.

"If you're not so damned stubborn--"

"Ahem."

Kristoph cleared his throat – daintily, but it was enough to get the message across. Klavier turned around to look sheepishly at him. "Hey Kris – up from your nap?"

"Yes, obviously. Having fun...Boys?"

Apollo turned the colour of a tomato. "Kristoph – straighten out this brother of yours please. I swear he's the most outrageous person to ever walk."

Kristoph looked pleasantly at Klavier.

"He's just a prude." He explained.

Kristoph looked pleasantly at Apollo.

"I'm n-- Forget it." He shoved Klavier off to the side and walked towards Kristoph, as though hoping for a buffer between the two parties. "Are you ready? We should be heading off soon if we want to make it there any time before sunset."

Kristoph looked a little pensive. Ideally he would like a little more time to talk to Klavier – but the camping trip was something Apollo wanted, and he wouldn't want to deny Apollo what he wanted in his current mood. He nodded. "Yes, I suppose we should be going."

Klavier looked up, alarmed. "Where are you guys going?" He looked over at Kristoph, startled. "You're not trying to escape the country, are you?"

Kristoph chuckled a little at that. "Tell me, Klavier – which country do you know that we can reach before sunset?"

"Then where are you guys going?" He looked around the room, noticing for the first time that the house was a mess. One of the chairs had become a pedestal for all their bags, and the picnic basket - along with the bagged food - had been shoved up against one side of the kitchen counter, propped up by a large bottle of drinking water for emergencies.

"We're going--"

Apollo cut him off. "Where we're going is none of your business. Please make like a tree and leave."

Klavier folded his arms. "I'm his brother -" He shoved a finger in Kristoph's general direction. "I have a right to know, don't you think? I should think if you guys are planning something dangerous I should be informed, nein?"

"No you don't – and what kind of brother would show up trying to get his brother back into jail?" Apollo asked, crass as ever. Klavier winced, and actually looked hurt. Kristoph cut in before Apollo could do any further damage with his insensitive self.

"We're going to Eagle Mountain actually," Kristoph interrupted.

"What for...?" Klavier stared at the huge bulging bag that Apollo had pack for 'necessities'. It contained a toilet case, a set of toothbrushes, all of Kristoph's stuff – as well as half a week's supply of pajamas and fluffy slippers.

"We're going camping." He said, even as Apollo protested loudly.

"I don't see how it's any of his business!"

"You guys are going...Camping?" Klavier blinked. "Don't you think that's sort of risky? Someone might spot you and report it."

Kristoph merely sneered a little at the idea of the police force catching up to him. The sheer idea was ludicrous – it was Kristoph after all, and some habits, like arrogance, is ingrained in him. "If the police in general knew I was missing, don't you think something would be said in the news? But of course – you would know that, you're part of the ones who know after all."

Klavier had the audacity to look a little embarrassed. He cleared his throat and tugged at the loose shirt collar as though it was strangling him. "I ahem. Ja, I suppose the general public doesn't know about you."

"Yeah yeah, great, whatever. Can we go now?" Apollo whined. He shot Klavier a dirty look that spoke volumes. He lifted the bulging toiletry bag and slung it across his shoulder. "We really won't make it if we don't get moving. It's a two-hour drive from L.A to Eagle Mountain."

"Actually..." Kristoph looked at Klavier, who had acquired a gleeful glint in his eye. He knew how his little brother would be thinking, especially when you throw Apollo into the equation... "Why don't you come along with us, Klavier?"

"WHAT!?" Apollo screeched. His face was rapidly turning the shade of his favourite vest. "No way – he's not coming with us. Nuh-uh. Not ever."

Klavier was already nodding fervently in answer. "Yeah – just let me get my guitar case and I'm good to roll."

"You're not good to roll! And if you come along with us the only rolling you'll be doing is downhill! I'll push you myself if I have to."

He smirked. "That's not a very nice way to talk to Your Future Boyfriend."

"The only friend of any kind you'll get is a troll – because you're of the same species," Apollo snapped back. "And you can't come along – we only packed enough for two."

"Actually, Apollo, you packed enough of everything to outfit a small army."

Klavier's smirk turned smug. Apollo gnashed his teeth.

"But why does he have to come? He has a job to do. Don't you?" He added tentatively. Kristoph turned away to hide a smile at the pleading expression on Apollo's face. Poor thing, they were wrecking him and all his well-made plans.

"The PO shut down for the flu – just like you guys did. No one's reporting to duty until a week later."

Apollo groaned and slumped against the wall. "He's really going to come along, isn't he?"

"Hmph. Look on the bright side, Apollo."

"There's a bright side?"

Kristoph laughed at the defeated expression on Apollo's face – he couldn't remember the last time he had as much fun. Certainly it was a long time ago, before Shadi Smith, before everything. "Well, we'll have good entertainment."

Klavier puffed up his chest and air guitar'd. Apollo groaned. "I don't want that kind of entertainment – he's just going to serenade us all to death."

Kristoph smiled. He had meant the both of them.

In preparation, Apollo allowed Klavier precisely one hour. If he wasn't here within an hour, Apollo announced gleefully, they would leave without him. The glint in his eyes that went hee hee hee told Klavier that Apollo would be sitting in the car with Kristoph – watching the seconds count down to an hour and drive off the moment the clock strike four. If it wasn't the fact that there were two other people in the room with him, Klavier rather thought Apollo would rub his hands together in glee.

So in order to make it in time, Klavier had to hurry – but first, there was the matter of the bug he left at the stairway. As he headed back, he realized he would have to do something about it. He couldn't just leave it there at the stairs – it wasn't likely, but some fascinated kid might pluck it off the lights and carried it around. That would alert the guys that it had been removed from him, and they'll no doubt try to track him down – in case he was in danger. At the very least he knew Nail would raise hell until they found Klavier – he was a worrywart that way. So he returned to the stairs and plucked it back off from the lights, threw it on the ground, and smashed it with the boot of heel.

There, he thought. That wasn't so hard. Klavier leaned down and picked up the remains of the bug and dropped it into his jean pockets. That should smash it up hard enough to render anything sent to the PD either complete static or too fractured to even qualify as evidence. And of course, they would think it's just a bug malfunction and leave him a few messages, telling him to ship in sometime or later to get it looked at. That would stall for some time.

He smiled and fingered the remains of the device as he descend the steps. Guess this meant he was really going through with it, huh? In for a penny, in for a pound – if he was going to be sneaky just to talk to his brother, he might as well go on a vacation with them. Why not? Apollo was his favourite person on Earth at the moment, and Kristoph...Well, Kristoph was his brother wasn't he? And so what if he had escaped from prison, and that that meant it was illegal and it was Klavier's job to stop him? It's like politics – everything is malleable. You support the republicans? Excellent. Tomorrow you can vote for the democrats.

Besides, until he saw him again, Kristoph was a faceless person. He was The Guy Who Killed Someone. He might have been his brother, but he wasn't HIS brother, which meant that in a way he was a faceless figure, just another escaped guy that Klavier felt particularly inclined to arrest. Sure, it was Kristoph, but somehow when you don't see something the empathy simply isn't there. Seeing is believing after all, and by seeing Kristoph, some part of him, the one that kept clamouring for justice – it was switched off and tossed aside – like yesterday's news. Just for a little while, he would think of Kristoph as his brother and not an escaped convict.

His decision made, Klavier nodded self-righteously at himself and threaded out of the stairway and into the fresh air outside, heading back to his own apartment to pack. Klavier was not much for heavy luggage – the stuff he usually took for the band's road trips could be easily fitted into one bag – and this time, he packed even lesser. He took his guitar case with him, folded a few clothes into it and crammed his guitar onto them, wrinkling them a little. Apollo was right about one thing – he planned to serenade him for the entire length of the trip.

When he returned to the parking lot of Apollo's apartment, Apollo was stomping around the lot, looking adorably flustered. Kristoph was sitting in the passenger's seat, looking bored.

"You're late," Apollo hissed.

"Fashionably so," He retorted, piling his guitar case into the back of the car. The whole place was jammed with bags, and it looked more like they were eloping to Miami for a threesome than going camping at a mountain 5 miles away. "Come on," He quipped at the frustrated forehead. "Or we'll be late – and you wouldn't want that would you, Herr Forehead?"

Apollo growled and slammed into the car, backing it with a huge lurch. Klavier went the whole journey fingering the broken device.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Kristoph declared.

The car pulled up beside a creek that sloped gently upwards, shaking a little violently on the tires. Klavier piled out of the car with him, and unfortunately, he agreed with the assessment of their current situation. Kristoph looked a little grin around the gills – and Klavier...Well, Klavier thought he himself looked like a bucket of paint someone pulled out for Recycle-Your-Plastics day.

"It's not my fault," Apollo retorted hotly, "That the car chose to lurch around like a seasick man."

"It's not the car's fault it's driver is lousy either," He shot back, pulling out his guitar case. He threw a few bags out while he was doing it, and they landed in a heap around a crossed Apollo's feet.

"It's not my fault!" Apollo insisted, folding his arms. Kristoph pat him lightly on his way to the trunk of the car to retrieve their belongings.

"Now, now, my boy – denial is bad for your skin."

Apollo grumbled under his breath and helped Kristoph with the luggage, pulling out what they needed and leaving what they didn't in the car first until necessity calls for them. Klavier rested his guitar case behind his back with one arm (And struck a cool pose of course.) and surveyed their surroundings with a critical eye.

"So where do we set camp?"

The car was parked twenty feet away from a sharp and sudden precipice that sliced down into the creek that spans into Eagle River. If you stand at the edge and crane your neck, you can see on the opposite bank a rundown shack that still bore the signs of winter snow, dirty stains marring it's patched up roof that remained even after the actual snow had melted. Their side of the mountain was more flat though, with long expanses of fields that stretched horizontally before finally disappearing into the roots of the nearby pine forest.

"How about there?"

Kristoph stared at the tree, which had a knotted trunk and slanted eastwards. From afar it looked like a gnarly man stooped low. "Are you sure it's safe? What if it falls on us?"

"It won't fall, ja? Unless someone shouts very loud and it topples of course."

Apollo shot Klavier a dirty look and lugged the sleeping bag towards the tree. "Come on, the tree it is."

Klavier whistled lightly and took the guitar case with him, along with one of the roll-ed up tents. Apollo led the way, while Kristoph trailed behind them, hands folded behind his back like a military sergeant inspecting his troops.

"Don't you think you should be carrying something, Kristoph?" Apollo asked sweetly as he unpacked the tents. There were precisely two of them, and even though they were spacious enough for two people to curl into it comfortably, Klavier realized that someone was going to have to be sharing tents tonight. He smiled and started fantasizing while he unzipped the other tent.

"No," Kristoph say simply. "I have a bad back. Prison, don't you know – cold cement grounds make for weak backs."

"Your bed is fluffier than mine," He retorted. "Now go, get the salad out before it rots in the car."

Kristoph sighed and wandered off in the general direction of the car, and Klavier turned to ogled Apollo instead – who was on his hands and knees and trying to get the tent to inflate itself into a proper, tent-like shape.

"You guys brought salad?"

"Just a little, for tonight. It shouldn't rot so fast. Of course," He turned around to glare at him. "We only brought enough for two which means-- I say, what are you looking at, Klavier?"

Klavier raised his eyes long enough to meet his eyes. "I'm looking at your..." The eyes trailed back down. "...Butt."

The tent pole went whizzing over his head.

"Go away, Klavier!"

Kristoph walked out of the forest with a handful of firewood, trailing behind Klavier and humming softly. Klavier was humming too, but it was an entirely different song – that song that he had duet with Lamiroir. Their voices sounded similar though, so even if they were humming two entirely different things, it sounded as though they were making the same tune.

"I wonder how Apollo's managing with his 'poles'." Klavier broke in with a snicker in the general direction of their horn-headed acquaintance. When they had left him, Apollo had been red in the face, struggling with the tent that just refused to stand. He had inserted the poles into the slits in the tent, but something must have gone wrong because they had stayed deflated.

"You shouldn't be so merry," Kristoph chided. "If he doesn't get them up, we'll all be sleeping in the open."

Klavier snorted. "As if boy scout there would fail something like this." Kristoph merely quirked a smile as Klavier stared off dreamily into the distance.

"You've really fallen hard for him, haven't you?"

"Ach, you kidding? How does one NOT fall for him?" The armload of firewood wobble perilously as Klavier did a 360 degree spin. "Have you seen him from the opposite side of the court? One of these days I'll sneak you in – one look, and you'll fall for him. Ach, come to think of it maybe I shouldn't..."

Kristoph smiled. Someone had forgotten he was a wanted man, it seems – but that was alright. This is a vacation of sorts for them anyway, and despite his very many complaints, he rather thought the trip would be fun – especially now that Klavier had opted to join them.

"I don't believe so. I've been looking at him for years and I can't say I've fallen for him."

"Achtung! – You must get new spectacles then."

They laughed and made their way back to their campsite, where the gnarly old tree stood out in the field like a knot or a large crumb from Hansel's bread. When they got back they found Apollo wiping sweat off his forehead with one arm thrust on his hip, smirking smugly at the tent and the safely fastened rain flap.

"I did it!" He announced as the figure of them appeared over the horizon. He looked ready to squeal. Klavier walked towards him and emptied his hands of firewood, unloading them in a pile in front of the tent. He patted Apollo on the head.

"Good job, Herr Forehead."

Kristoph unloaded his cargo of firewood onto the pile too. "Indeed." He looked at the two tents now inflated and standing perkily against one side of the tree. Kristoph noticed that they were on the side where the tree did not stoop onto. Apollo must have, cautious as usual, decided that being flattened by a tree was not the best way to wake up. Well, that suited Kristoph – he was rather worried about the tree too. You never know when sometime in the middle of the night, someone – maybe Kazaf – will come up and saw the tree into two – and that wasn't the paranoia speaking.

"One question though – since there are only two tents : Who's sharing with who?"

Silence, and O, chirping of crickets.

Apollo seemed stunned at the mere suggestion of sharing a tent with anyone. Klavier looked like someone who suffered a paralysis attack and had his face stuck in a lunatic grin.

"Well?"

"I'm not sharing with him," Apollo burst out, darting a panicked glance at Klavier.

Klavier's smile grew wider. "Kristoph – you were saying something about a bad back, didn't you?"

"Oh yes," Kristoph agreed, playing along. A mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes. "And I remember you kick quite a lot in your sleep."

"Ja – like a fish, exactly like a fish."

Apollo, seeing where this was heading started twisting nervous fists into the fabric of his pants. "Well, can't I- can't I share a tent with you instead, Kristoph? I don't kick," He proclaimed, biting his lower lip. "I swear."

"Absolutely not," Kristoph answered crossly – though the laughter never left his eyes. "You snore like a bear."

"I ah- I'm sure Prosecutor Gavin wouldn't want to spend the night hearing me snore either!" He squeezed out.

"Oh, I don't mind," Klavier interjected magnanimously. "I'm used to loud noises – rock and roll and all. I'm sure your Chords of Steel won't bother me much." He aimed a sly glance at Kristoph and they both nodded mischievously.

"Well, Apollo?"

"Yes, what will it be, Apollo?"

"With Klavier, or in the cold?"

"Oh my God." Apollo wailed, letting his face fall into his hands.

Eeps - camping preparation took longer than I expected x_x

Well, Eternal Summer is going to last a bit longer. For those who got this far because of the action, relax :D

Once Eternal Summer is over, Arc 3 will begin - where I will press the red button, and everything will blow. xD

: Blood Dawn : I don't think I can fit that it in O_O

They're in the middle of nowhere, and alas, no stereo :O

Still...The idea is kind of entertaining....