So, Klavier just tricked Apollo into having dinner with him. How will the dinner go over? Well, that's what we're going to find out in this chapter.

Chapter Two – Take a Hint

Apollo

To say the next day of work was annoying would be an understatement. Trucy had immediately gone to her adoptive father and told him her version of events; namely that Prosecutor Gavin had "asked me out." So basically, when I stepped into work the next day, Mr. Wright had this big, stupid, all-knowing grin on his face that would not leave me alone.

"You know, most girls would kill to be in your position right now," he pointed out as I typed up the paperwork from my last case. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Mr. Wright," I said, looking up from my work. "It's not a date. He just wants to pay me back for helping out his friend." He grinned at me.

"Sure, he is," he replied. I let out a hiss of frustration. I didn't have to listen to this. Unlike him, I had actual work to do. "So, where is he taking you anyway?" he asked a few moments later when I tried to get back to work.

"I haven't decided yet," I sighed, resigning myself to the conversation. "Probably a noodle shop nearby or something like that." Mr. Wright stared at me with shock in his eyes.

"Wait a minute," he said. "He's letting you pick the restaurant, and you're going to pick some boring, cheap, old noodle shop?"

I suddenly felt embarrassed for some reason.

"Um, yeah, I guess so," I replied. He came over to my side and put a heavy hand on my shoulder, nearly knocking me out of my seat.

"Apollo, when Miles took me out for the first time after returning from Europe, I made sure he took me to the fanciest restaurant I could find," he told me. "Well, second fanciest. I wanted him to still talk to me afterwards, but that's not the point."

"And what is the point?" I wondered.

"Well, if a rock star wants to repay you by buying you dinner, the very least you could do is get the most out of him by picking somewhere normally out of your price range," he pointed out, the grin never leaving his face.

I guess he had a point. If richer-than-me Prosecutor Gavin was going to pay for it, why not splurge a little? And the look of shock that would appear on Gavin's face was almost too good to pass up. And if he happened to stop speaking to me for a while, well that was just an added bonus.

So, since really none of us had anything better to do, Trucy, Mr. Wright and I spent the afternoon going through websites and phonebooks looking for the most expensive restaurant in the city.

We eventually settled on a fancy French/Italian fusion restaurant where I'm pretty sure they charge you just for walking through the door, and I texted the details to Gavin about my decision. He texted back with a bunch of exclamation points and a "are you sure?" before reluctantly giving in to my demand. A few minutes later, he texted again, saying that he made reservations for 7:15.

I decided not to show that text to either of the Wrights, and I ignored them when they asked if I was going to dress fancy and then get disappointed when I told them that what I was wearing was just fine.

Prosecutor Gavin did not look happy when he showed up at the office at 6:55.

"You're early," I pointed out nonchalantly when I opened the door for him. "I thought you were coming at 7." He glared at me.

"Very funny, Forehead," he growled. "You just had to pick the most expensive, fanciest restaurant in the city, didn't you?" I gave him an innocent smile, trying to look like I had no idea what he was talking about.

"That's not a problem, is it?" I asked. "I mean, you did say I could pick the restaurant."

He let out a sigh and grumbled something under his breath that sounded like "they hate me there." I gave him a confused look but decided not to comment about that. I was aware of the Wrights behind me, trying to hold in their giggles and I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Are you ready to go then?" Gavin asked, forcing a smile onto his face. I shrugged.

"I guess so," I replied. I glanced down and suddenly noticed the helmet he had pinned to his side, and my eyes widened. "Er, you weren't going to take us to the restaurant with your motorcycle, are you?"

His grin widened. "That's not a problem, is it?" he asked in an almost mocking tone. "I mean, I do drive my hog to work every day."

I couldn't help but glare at him. God, what an asshole. I said a quick good-bye to Wright and Trucy before pushing past Gavin and leading the way down the hall. Gavin caught up to me and pressed gently against my side. He thankfully didn't seem too inclined to talk at the moment, and seemed more lost in thought than I was.

I hesitated when we got outside and I saw Gavin's motorcycle in front of the building, with an extra helmet for me. I didn't want to seem weak in front of him, but I never did figure out why anyone would want to ride a motorcycle. You were one accident away from dying a horrible death on those things!

Gavin seemingly didn't notice my hesitation and instead brought me over to it, handing the extra helmet to me with his winning smile.

"Don't worry," he said, seeing the look on my face. "I'll try and take it easy on you."

I glared at him but didn't say anything as I quickly put on the helmet and followed him onto the monstrosity of a bike. I don't think he noticed how tightly I clung to him once we started moving, and I tried not to focus on the fact that I had my arms wrapped around him.

Thankfully, the restaurant was not too far away from the Wright Anything Agency, or from my apartment for that matter, so the motorcycle ride was mercifully short.

The exterior of the restaurant itself just screamed "only the rich and fancy may enter here." The façade was gold with crystal windows and fancy looking doors. It was a place where, under normal circumstances, I would never even walk within a hundred yards of.

Prosecutor Gavin pulled his hog up to a free space in front of the building and roared to a stop, taking off his helmet with a satisfied grin. The rich and elite were just entering the building turned to give us a look of disgust before continuing. Gavin seemingly ignored all of them as he confidently led the way into the restaurant.

The inside was somehow even fancier than the outside. All of the tables were small and round with silk table cloths with gold trims. The place was barely lit with soft candlelight to set the mood. Marble pillars were scattered around, a crystal chandelier towered overhead and a stage with a live pianist stood in the back of the room. I was already starting to regret my choice just by looking around. I couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable, especially with how much Prosecutor Gavin and I stood out from everyone else.

The host was eyeing Gavin with disgust as he made his way over to him.

"Can I help you?" he asked him in his best pleasant voice he could muster while still looking down his nose at us.

"Yes, we have a reservation for two, under Gavin," the prosecutor informed him, giving him his best winning smile. The host stared at him for a moment before looking down at his books. After a moment, he looked back up with a forced smile.

"Ah yes, Gavin," he said, bowing gracefully. "Right this way."

I could easily see what Gavin meant when he said that they hated him here. Everyone besides us were dressed like you would see in old, rich, Victorian London, and I swear every single one of them had plastic surgery to have their noses constantly in the air. As we were led to our table, people would turn to glare at the two of us, as if we were causing a scene just by being there. I was really regretting my choice in restaurant.

"So, Herr Forehead, how was work today?" Gavin asked once we were seated. He didn't seem to mind the glares, or the intimate setting, or the fancy designs.

"Fine, I guess," I muttered, feeling self-conscious. "The day after a case, it's mostly just paper work, so it was kind of boring." I decided not to tell him about how Trucy and Wright were teasing me about this dinner. Yet.

"Ja, it's the same with me," Gavin sighed. "Only the case is not over for me. We still have to find the actual killer so we can prosecute him."

"Are you going to be the prosecutor now that your friend is off the hook?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure," he replied, leaning back casually in his chair. "It depends on the Chief Prosecutor, really. He'll decide if I work the case once we get a new suspect."

It was just then that the waiter came over to take our orders. If he was displeased at having to serve us, he hid it better than the person who showed us to the table. He spoke with a pleasant voice and was patient as I tried to figure out the menu. He kept the smile on his face even as Gavin loudly insisted on ordering us both wine when I tried to just order a soda.

"I'm surprisingly not used to having a case be open ended like this before," I commented once the waiter had left. "Normally, in trying to clear my client's name, I stumble upon the real killer and clear my client by proving the real killer's guilt. Even with Mr. Wright's old cases didn't end like this."

"Ja, it is weird, isn't it?" Gavin agreed. "Normally the killer confesses by now. I'll have to ask mein bruder and see what he thinks of the whole thing."

I stared in shock at him for a moment as I processed what he just said.

"Wait, your brother?" I asked. "As in Kristoph Gavin? That brother?"

"Of course, Herr Forehead," he replied with a soft smile. "I visit him every weekend. Even though he's a murderer, he's still the only family I have. And I still can't help but love him. I think he needs me now more than ever."

I thought of offering to go with him to one of these visits, but I didn't know if I was ready to face Mr. Gavin again. It was now a few months after the Misham trial, but I still couldn't get his haunting laugh out of my head. Besides, I didn't know if Mr. Gavin would want to see me. I'm surprised he wanted to see his brother.

"Sentenced for life, but they didn't give him the death penalty, thank goodness," Prosecutor Gavin was saying. "I don't agree with execution at the best of times, but I would have hated to see enforced on mein bruder."

"The death penalty isn't really something most people talk about during dinner, you know," I pointed out to him. He laughed.

"Fine, I'll save it for our second date," he replied. I immediately felt my face heat up and I flinched away from him.

"This isn't a date," I snarled at him. He laughed again.

"Relax, I am only teasing," he said in a gentle voice.

I glared at him but didn't respond as our food arrived. We were both silent for a long moment as we tasted our food. I don't really remember what I ordered, but it was heavenly. Suddenly I was no longer regretting picking this place. Part of me wanted to shovel in everything on my plate as fast as I could, but the more in control part of me wanted to take my time and savor every bite.

"I don't care if it is fish eggs, caviar is still delicious," Gavin said after a moment of silence. I gave him a look.

"I don't care if it's the most delectable thing in the world, it's still fish eggs to me," I replied with a note of disgust. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're missing out," he said.

"I think I'll be fine," I reassured him.

We were silent for a few moments more. I ate rather slowly, fully aware that Gavin's eyes were on me while we ate, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I couldn't figure out what his end game was, if there was one. Were Trucy and Mr. Wright correct in thinking that there was something more to this dinner? From the way Gavin was staring at me, I couldn't be sure.

"So, what's been going on in your life, Herr Justice?" Gavin asked eventually, suddenly breaking the silence.

"I already told you," I pointed out to him. "I finished the case with your friend. That's about it." His eyes widened, as if he somehow wasn't expecting that for an answer.

"I meant with the rest of your life," he said in a soft voice. "You do have a life outside of work, don't you?"

I flinched. I didn't want to admit to him that my life was basically just sleeping and working, while occasionally doing something with Trucy because she badgered me into it, but it easily showed on my face. His eyes softened and he smiled sympathetically at me.

"It's a really good thing I took you out, then," he said. "It sounds like you need more excitement in your life." I couldn't help but glare at him.

"I have more than enough excitement in my life, thank you very much," I growled.

"Are you sure?" he wondered with a gentle laugh. "Every time I see you, you look completely on edge and high strung."

"I think it's because there's too much excitement in my life," I muttered.

I started when he suddenly reached over and placed a hand over mine. His hand was warm and soft, with callouses on his fingers where he strummed his guitar. I only felt it for a moment though, since I quickly jerked my hand away from his, startled from the sudden contact.

"Work excitement and life excitement are two totally different things, Herr Forehead," he said, completely unphased by the awkward moment we just had.

"I beg to differ," I growled.

"Excitement at work causes stress," Gavin argued. "Excitement in life brings so many different things like love and joy and new opportunities. You just have to give in to your basic desires every once and a while."

I frowned at him but decided not to argue. We didn't really speak again for the rest of the meal, only exchanging a few words here or there. I had almost completely forgotten that we were in such a fancy establishment, though I think the wine was mostly to blame for that. I didn't get drunk, but I was starting to feel a tad bit tipsy by the time Gavin paid the check. I swear I only had maybe two drinks, but I didn't really drink that often.

"Thanks for dinner, Prosecutor Gavin," I said when we finally exited the restaurant. I turned to start down the street towards my apartment building when I felt his strong hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

"Where are you going, Forehead?" he wondered. "My hog is over there."

"Oh, um… my apartment is just a few blocks away, actually," I told him, not looking him in the eye. "So, I thought I would just walk home instead."

"That was your first time riding a motorcycle, wasn't it?" he managed to guess. I didn't say anything, but the look on my face must have given him his answer. "Come on, what was I saying about excitement in your life?"

"No, thank you," I replied. "I prefer stability and predictability over excitement any day. It's how I've always lived my life."

"Not tonight," he replied, taking my hand and leading me over to his bike. I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held firm. "Come on, just trust me on this," he said in a gentle voice. I stared at him.

"What are you planning on doing anyway?" I asked, freeing my arm. He handed me the bike helmet and a charming smile.

"I'm going to take you for a ride," he said. "We'll take the scenic route back to your place."

I gave him a skeptical look as he continued holding the helmet out for me. We stared each other down for a long moment until I finally gave in with an annoyed sigh. His smile widened and he quickly put on his own helmet before climbing onto his bike. He patiently waited for me to climb on after him before his motorcycle roared to life and we drove off down the street. I'm pretty sure I heard the people in the restaurant cheer as we left.

The moon was full that night, and it lit up the sky with a white, eerie glow. As soon as we got out of the more crowded part of the city, the stars began dotting the sky, one by one. It was hard to appreciate the beauty of it though. I couldn't help but imagine all of the worst possible scenarios that could happen to us on a motorcycle. I probably held onto Prosecutor Gavin a lot tighter than I meant to.

By the time we finally got to my place, my entire body was shaking and my legs could barely hold me up. I could feel my heart pounding painfully in my chest and I was eager to get off the screaming, metal death trap.

"Are you ok there, Schatz?" Prosecutor Gavin asked as I practically fell off the motorcycle.

"Never drag me onto that thing again," I demanded, brushing myself off. He laughed.

"You act like you've never done anything crazy before," Gavin said. "Compared to most things, a motorcycle is pretty tame, you know."

"Of course, you would say that," I replied, rolling my eyes. "A rock star prosecutor like you? You probably do crazy shit every day. I just get up, work, eat ramen for dinner and then just read until I pass out."

Gavin started laughing and I gave him an annoyed look. It took him a moment to catch his breath, and then he was staring at me with his annoyingly charming smile.

"Are you saying you've never given into your basic desires, Herr Justice?" he asked.

"Of course not," I muttered, looking down at the floor as I felt the heat rise to my face. I was taken off guard when I felt him suddenly wrap an arm around my waist and cup a hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His face was extremely close to mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a panic, dreading the answer.

He smiled at me again. "Giving into my basic desires," he murmured. Then he leaned forward and kissed me deeply.

Oh yeah, we're getting into the good stuff fast in this fic! I've pretty much already written out the next chapter as well, so that will be out rather fast. I already knew how this chapter was going to end, it was getting there that was the hard part.

Anyway, how will Apollo react to being kissed like that? What's going to happen afterwards? Well, you're just going to have to wait and see, won't you?