4.

Sebastian has only a vague idea how he ended up climbing through a heating duct, but he's entirely certain it's Kay Faraday's fault.

His jacket snags on something, bringing Sebastian up short. A little gentle tugging, an attempt to shimmy forward, just causes the fabric to give a threatening creak sound. Staying perfectly still, Sebastian gives a low moan of mixed frustration and exasperation.

"What was that?" Kay is in front of him, her boots and skirt illuminated by the tiny flashlight she practically glued to his wrist before they began this mission. "Something happen?"

"I'm stuck." Sebastian sighs.

"You are not stuck." Kay huffs out a breath. "If I got my thighs through there, you can get your twenty-one-year-old skinny belly through."

"You may have gotten through, but I am definitely hung up on something." Another attempt at shuffling forward results in a similar threatening noise. "If I keep going, I'm ninety-eight percent certain my jacket won't."

"Oh, you got caught on a nail?" Kay's legs have stopped moving forward, at least. Sebastian had been half-afraid she'd abandon him if he couldn't keep up. "Just back up and try again, keeping your body angled away from that section as much as you can."

Kay's legs move closer to his face and then explode forward again, presumably her attempt at demonstrating what she wants him to do.

Clenching his teeth around another sigh, refusing to let Kay get the better of him, Sebastian wiggles his way carefully backward and then tries easing forward again.

This time he somehow manages to shimmy his way past the difficult patch, and his exhalation of relief must be loud enough for Kay to hear, because she begins moving again. Her voice is smug and self-assured when she speaks. "See? Told you that you weren't stuck."

"Well, I was stuck, but you're right, it was rather easier to unstick myself than I had been ascertaining—assuming." Sebastian pauses, retreating in an ungainly wiggle as Kay's leg shoot backward, presumably to give her some extra momentum for a particularly tight spot. "I do hope that you're enjoying yourself, Kay Faraday, because this is absolutely ridiculous."

"He challenged me." Steel lines Kay's words, and Sebastian begins crawling forward again once he's fairly certain his likelihood of getting kicked in the face is approaching zero. "He said security at the venue was tight, and that I needed to accept the ticket if I wanted to see the show."

"Security is tight." Are they angling upward? Sebastian can't tell anymore. What floor of the building are they on? Have they ended up in the backstage area or are they approaching the concert seating? Kay had shown him her plans on Little Thief prior to beginning her self-professed mission, but in his attempts to keep up with her Sebastian has apparently lost track of exactly where they are. "And I have tickets for both you and I right here in my pocket. We can come out of the duct-work at any time we want and have full backstage access to—"

"No." Kay speaks firmly. "It's the principle of the thing. He said I can't get in; he made you pay for those ridiculous little slips of paper, didn't he?"

"Well..." Sebastian hesitates. "It really wasn't that much, Kay. And Klavier's right, there are four other band members plus everyone else that gets money from ticket sales, so giving us a twenty percent discount—"

"You helped him write some of the damn songs, the least he can do is let you into the concert for free." Sebastian is somewhat glad Kay can't turn around and glare at him, though he can picture the scowl well enough that perhaps it would be redundant. "You prosecutors really have no concept of how money works for ninety-five percent of the world, do you?"

"That's unfair!" They're definitely heading uphill, and Sebastian is suddenly glad that the duct is a tight squeeze, because hopefully he won't end up sliding downhill, away from Kay. "I've been very good with money the last four years. I've been paying rent and buying groceries and paying utilities! You even helped me with a budget a few times."

"I did, but your budget basically amounts to 'don't try to buy China and you'll be good'." Kay sighs. "Not that I'm mad you guys are doing well, and my dad's savings meant I've made it through university without getting into debt, but... well, it means you two don't really get money like a normal person does."

"I resent the fact that I am being called abnormal." Kay's legs disappear, and Sebastian finds himself having to wiggle and contort his way through an S-curve. "Also... either you can't count past two... or you think... Prosecutor Edgeworth does a better job... than Klavier and I at—"

"Edgeworth is classy rich. It's a completely different subject." Kay's legs have stopped, and Sebastian can see light from something other than their flashlights illuminating the space ahead of him. "All right, this is where we exit the ducts. I don't see anyone, but on the off chance someone comes running at the noise, help hoist me back up, okay?"

"But I—" Sebastian isn't given time to protest that he likely has neither the physical upper body strength needed to do so nor the fortitude to go scrabbling through ducts while being chased by unknown people for a crime that can be very simply solved by turning over the tickets in his pocket.

Two stubborn clangs of Kay's boots against metal, and the grate that she was in front of vanishes, Kay dropping down out of sight a moment later.

When no one immediately starts shouting, Sebastian removes his hands from in front of his eyes and squiggles his way closer to the missing grate.

"Come on!" Kay's excited whisper comes from what seems a long way down. "Quick, before the guard comes by on patrol!"

"Um, Kay..." Sebastian eyes the drop to the floor. He hadn't realized that ceilings were so high up until just this moment, not really. "How?"

Rolling her eyes, Kay waves both hands in a gesture that clearly means come on. "Just put your feet through and jump! Or dangle and drop. Come on, you can do this! Look, I'll even help catch you."

For a few moments Sebastian considers just staying where he is. He's perfectly safe, really, and perhaps once Kay has proven that she needs nothing so mundane and plebeian as a ticket to attend a concert she will deign to come rescue him with a ladder.

Then he takes another look at Kay's face, squeezes his eyes closed, maneuvers his legs through the gap, and falls.

The squawk that he makes on the way down is distinctly undignified; the pile of arms and legs that he and Kay end up in even more so.

"Thank you." Sebastian crawls away, trying to get to his feet and pick up the scattered remnants of his dignity as he does. "For at least trying to catch me."

"I said I would." Kay winces, stretching her arms up above her head and shaking her legs out one after the other. "You ready to continue the mission?"

"Do I have much choice?"

"Of course you do." Kay crosses her arms in front of her chest. "You've got your little tickets. You can head out any time. But then I get to tell your rock-star I beat his security all on my lonesome."

"He's not my rock star, and I'm fairly certain he's just going to laugh at us anyway." Rotating his head on his neck, Sebastian resists the urge to sigh again. He seems to do an awful lot of it around Kay when she's in one of her proving-people-wrong moods. "But I'm already this far in. Lead on."

Kay grins, reaching out to take his hand, and Sebastian allows himself to be led through the bowels of the concert hall.

There should be music. Sebastian quietly orchestrates the soundtrack that, by all rights, should be following them about on this ridiculous spy mission as he and Kay dart from room to room, corridor to corridor. A swelling chord there, showing the possibility of discovery; a haunting, creeping bass-line that is barely audible here, the percussion matching the audience's tense heartbeats; a sting of brass there, as Sebastian knocks a broom over with a clatter that is far too loud for the size of the object.

Kay would probably do better without him, honestly. She is clearly good at this—a little too good, and Sebastian worries that his friend has been playing vigilante again, her fury and frustration at the Dark Age of the Law only barely kept in check by her faith in Edgeworth and those who follow him.

They aren't here because of work, though. They are here to enjoy themselves, to see a friend enjoying himself, and as the roar of the crowd becomes more audible, their destination closer, Sebastian finds himself grinning despite his best efforts.

"Almost there. Down this corridor, through the door, hang a right, and we'll be at the front of the stage." Kay turns to him as she whispers, and a smile breaks across her face. "Sebastian, you're an incredible dork, you know that?"

"I am not." Sebastian pouts, though he keeps his own tone soft and quiet too. "And why do you say that?"

Kay turns back to study their path. "Because you're grinning like a proud parent at the sounds of all these people cheering for Gavin."

"I'm happy for a friend. He's talented. He deserves this." A twinge of jealousy sparks in Sebastian's chest, but it is only a twinge. Klavier had invited him to join the Gavinners twice before, when membership in the band fluctuated almost as rapidly as people's faith in the system, and Sebastian had turned him down both times. Sebastian is more a director and a composer than a musician, and unlike Klavier, he doesn't have the energy or focus needed to hold down two jobs.

Which is all right. He loves the job he has, and Klavier has ensured that Sebastian still gets to tinker with music by involving Sebastian in several of his album composition sessions.

(It's better than Sebastian would have gotten from his father, and he knows that. Blaize DeBeste didn't have any use for musicians, teased Sebastian mercilessly about his interest in music, and only Sebastian saying that it was the best extracurricular kept him in band. (Edgeworth doesn't understand the attraction of music, either, though his response is more puzzlement than disapprobation. After so many years of living with Blaize, puzzlement can sometimes read too much like disapproval, and so Sebastian keeps most of his music sessions just between himself and Klavier.))

"Ready to go, DeBeste?" Kay grins over her shoulder at him.

Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, there is a certain earnest energy to Kay's investment that Sebastian finds contagious. Rising up on the balls of his feet, he returns Kay's grin. "You couldn't lose me if you tried, Faraday."

Apparently taking that as a challenge, Kay sprints out into the corridor. Sebastian follows, his feet sounding too loud as they pound against the tile floor. Kay throws open the door, and they both tumble through—

Straight into an immovable mountain of human flesh, Sebastian colliding with Kay's back and squishing her against the man who has caught them.

"Kay Faraday." Gumshoe's voice cuts easily over the noise of the crowd, despite the crowd being louder here. "And Prosecutor DeBeste, too! Thought you might have more sense than this, pal."

Disentangling himself once again from Kay, Sebastian takes a step back and tries to straighten his now even more sorely rumpled suit. "Sense tends to leave quickly when Ms. Faraday enters the picture."

Kay scowls at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and trying to take a surreptitious step away from Gumshoe. The detective's hand snags her scarf and the back of her shirt, holding tight. Kay gives one experimental lunge before settling down and glaring up at Gumshoe. "Traitor."

"Nah. If I was a traitor, I'd march you down to Mr. Gavin right now and tell him that he was right about how you'd try to get into the theatre." Gumshoe releases his hold on Kay's jacket, apparently trusting her to not attempt escape again. "As it is, I'm just goin' to tell you that you're not quite as clever as you think you are, pal, and other people aren't quite as dumb as you think they are."

"I never said he was dumb." Kay continues to pout. "How'd he figure out where to set you, anyway?"

"East side of the theatre's the easier side to sneak into, he said. Had a schematic with a whole bunch of different paths drawn on it, and most of them intersected right here." Gumshoe grins, pointing down at the ground where he's standing.

"We're not going to get in trouble, are we?" Sebastian fishes in the front pocket of his jacket, pulling out two slightly crumpled tickets. "We did buy tickets—"

Kay rolls her eyes. "One of us did, at least."

Sebastian glares at her. "And a breaking-and-entering charge would really look quite bad on a prosecutor's record."

Waving a hand at the tickets in Sebastian's hand, Gumshoe laughs and shakes his head. "Don't worry, Mr. Sebastian. Mr. Gavin didn't want even Faraday in trouble, just for her to know that he's on to her tricks."

Sighing, Kay drops into a more relaxed posture. "You're supposed to be on my side, Gummy. You knew me first."

"I am on your side. I'm also on the side of you learnin' that just because you think some rule 's silly, that doesn't mean you can ignore it." Plucking the tickets from Sebastian's hand, Gumshoe gestures for them to proceed him down the corridor. "In honor of you bein' you though, Kay, I'm not gonna take you to Gavin. I'm just gonna help you poor lost souls find the door you meant to come in, turn your tickets in, and get your seats. Sparklehair can spend all concert looking down at you and wondering if you slipped by me or just tricked him entirely and went in through the front door like a normal person. It'll drive him crazy."

A grin quickly spreads across Kay's face, and she breaks into a run until she's beside Gumshoe. Standing on tiptoe, she presses a quick kiss to the detective's cheek. "You really are the best, Gummy."

Beaming, Gumshoe rubs at the back of his neck, continuing to lead them toward the steadily-more-intimidating sound of an eager, energetic crowd.

There's no possible way Klavier is going to notice whether they're present or not, Sebastian thinks as a frazzled-looking woman scans the two tickets in his hand and directs he and Kay down toward the front of the venue. There are thousands of people here, and for the first time it really sinks in to Sebastian exactly how popular the Gavinners have become since he and Klavier first met.

They have good seats, four rows from the front and almost dead center. Sebastian had decided that if he was going to go to a concert, he was going to make sure he could actually see his friend and the colleagues that he has gathered around him. Muttering apologies, they push their way through a sea of arms and legs and torsos and flashing lights, and Sebastian is surprised to find the gender distribution somewhere in the sixty-forty range as opposed to the overwhelming female majority he had expected.

"Here." Kay fiddles with the edge of her shirt when they've finally made their way to their seats, and produces two flexible, thin plastic tubes. "Break it in a bunch of places; it'll glow."

Sebastian takes the proffered item with a smile, pleasantly surprised to find that Kay was eager enough to bring something like this. "I know what a glowstick is, Kay."

"But have you ever used one before? That's what I thought." Bending hers with expert motions before turning it into a necklace and sliding it on, Kay sticks her tongue out at him.

The plastic is surprisingly stiff between his fingers, but Sebastian does as Kay did, triggering the chemical reaction.

Instead of glowing blue like hers does, though, his begins emitting a vibrant purple color—the same purple that is Klavier's favorite color.

Plucking the plastic from his hands, Kay forms it into a circle before settling it atop his head like a crown. "I thought it was fitting."

There isn't time for Sebastian to respond before the lights go out, plunging the audience into darkness, and a scream that is either great joy or great terror erupts all around them.

Five spotlights pierce through the darkness, and Klavier is suddenly on stage, a guitar in hand and the brightest grin Sebastian has ever seen on his face. He doesn't introduce himself or the other four people with him, instead charging straight into the opening chords of his newest hit single.

Klavier is a consummate performer. Sebastian knew that from watching him in court, but it shows even more when he is singing on stage. He knows how to work the crowd, when to speak and what accent to speak in, when to tease with a bit of skin or a flirtatious smirk, and when to let the music do the talking.

The crowd goes wild, cheering, clapping, singing along, following Klavier's lead as though they were dogs and he the master they adore. It's exhilarating, in some ways, and Sebastian finds himself cheering and clapping along.

It's terrifying, in some ways, and sometimes Sebastian finds himself pausing, trying to analyze what tricks Klavier is using to get the reactions that he wants.

Which isn't fair, because these people are here to have fun. Klavier is here to have fun. The music is something separate from their prosecutor lives, though riffing on Klavier's status as a frighteningly good prosecutor and his ability to make legal puns has certainly not hurt the band's sales and status.

"What's wrong, Sebastian?" Kay practically yells the words into his ear in order to be heard over the band.

"Nothing!" Sebastian forces a smile. "Just—this is my first concert."

And possibly his last, too. Everything is becoming far too restrictive where he is, far too stuffy—far too hot, though Sebastian tries hard to push that thought away. Yes, this is definitely going to be his last concert. At least the last one he will spend here, buried in the seething energy of the crowd, and perhaps it would be better if he were to take a break—

He had been certain Klavier wouldn't be able to see him and Kay, given the size of the audience and the stage lights. He thinks he was wrong, though, because as the song comes to an end blue eyes seem to pin him in place.

The crowd is still mostly on their feet, ready and eager for the next power chord.

Pushing sweat-darkened hair out of his eyes, Klavier shrugs out of his guitar strap, setting the instrument down on its stand and stalking across the stage. He threw his jacket to some lucky fan fifteen minutes ago, and he looks oddly vulnerable and half-naked without the instrument, in just a sleeveless black shirt with only the middle two buttons actually done up.

"Danke, again, to all of you, for coming tonight. It has been a glorious night so far, hasn't it?"

The crowd roars its approval, though already it is a quieter roar than what it had been sixty seconds ago, the energy fading back to an expectant hum as they listen to Klavier.

"I'm going to take a moment, if you don't mind, to share something special with all of you today. Something that you won't have heard anywhere else." Klavier's eyes flit to Sebastian again, and Klavier's grin becomes just a bit more honest, a bit more open. "Something a very dear friend helped me to write. The lyrics are mine, but the layering of the instruments and the key changes and all the other beautiful musical technicalities—well, you have been exposed to enough of my work by now to know I could not have done something like this alone."

A howl of disagreement from somewhere back in the audience, but Klavier pretends not to hear, stalking back across the stage to reclaim his guitar.

"I ask you to be quiet and still during this next song, so that at the end you can give me your true opinion on it."

They listen to him.

Sebastian should have expected it, he supposes. They have listened to Klavier for the rest of the evening—they have paid to listen to him, and he is offering them something special.

Offering them one of the songs that he and Sebastian have fiddled on together, though it is a cleaner, crisper arrangement than the last one that Sebastian saw, perfectly suited to the Gavinners current membership. The lyrics have altered, too, though only slightly, still having that strange combination of earnestness and self-awareness that Sebastian loves about his friend's work.

Closing his eyes, Sebastian allows the music to wash over him, sinking into it. He helped to create this. He and Klavier, together, made this, and even if it isn't a creation that his father would ever understand, the simple fact of hearing others playing parts he helped write brings a fizzing, euphoric lightness to Sebastian's head and heart. There, that transition is something he spent all of one lunch hour trying to explain to Klavier, and now it is poured out effortlessly; there, a melding of the bass and keyboard lines in a back-and-forth that he had been certain would work.

When the song is done, the crowd erupts into wild applause, surging to their feet.

Klavier bows, extravagant, beautiful, impossible, and his eyes meet Sebastian's again for the briefest moment. "Danke, everyone. But especial thanks to the one who made that song possible. I'm sure there are a thousand more waiting for us to set them free."

The concert moves on after that, to a hit song from one of Klavier's earliest albums, and Sebastian sinks down in his seat, his legs shaking.

"Here." Kay settles in her seat next to him, the two of them almost in a little bubble as the rest surge to their feet, and holds out a handkerchief.

"Huh?" Sebastian stares at the piece of fabric.

"You're crying." Kay brushes tears from his cheeks.

"I am?" Sebastian reaches up to touch the moisture, and feels the catch to his breathing. "I suppose I am. Did you know it was possible to be so happy you cried, Kay?"

"Yeah." Leaning forward, Kay brushes a kiss against his forehead. "And I'm glad that now you do, too."

They stay for the rest of the concert, and join Klavier and the Gavinners backstage once it is done, and it is one of the best nights of Sebastian's life.