'More! More!' the pampered say,

Upon presented the night and day.

'More! More!' the spoilt cry,

Never ceasing till the day they die.

Klavier Gavin was not a happy man.

It was one embarrassment after another. First, he had to take cab to the concert. Then he had to break into his own guitar case like some common thief. Then, there was that – he closed his eyes in protest at the memory – stumble he'd taken when his guitar caught fire. In front of thousands of people no less. Not cool at all. Then Daryan had messed up their performance with his average playing. To top it off, someone was dead in accordance with the wishes of a lunatic who harboured a fondness for the dramatic. Klavier practically groaned as he recalled the unpleasant fact Trucy Wright had brought to light. Frankly, if he had known it would come back to haunt him, he would never have given her the signed lyrics sheet that was now making life so difficult for him.

He was lounging in his chair staring out the glass wall not really seeing the building lights in the dark. His guitar was resting in his lap, his fingers simply roving up and down the strings while his mind whirred, trying to make sense of the complexities of the day. A manager dead, no known enemies, with the possibility this was his first visit to the country and therefore leading to one conclusion- it was either Lamiroir or Machi Tobaye. However, given the layout of the crime scene and circumstances, logically, it could only have been Machi - it was impossible for Lamiroir to have had a hand in it.

Unease expanded in his stomach. Could a 14 year old really best a giant like LeTouse? Was it really possible for a child to shoot at a grown man - twice - and walk away? And what was the motive? Klavier didn't know. He had spent the last hour trying to find the pieces, putting them in different places but the picture never got any clearer. It was as though he was missing the edges of a jigsaw puzzle, unable to determine from where he should begin. The Borginian Embassy were taking their sweet time in getting back to them about the victim – time Klavier didn't have.

"Ach!" He set his guitar on his desk, frustratedly rubbing his eyes. He was so tired. His invitation of Lamiroir and Machi had gone all wrong; they were all caught up in a murder trial that didn't make any sense. How could a child kill his own manager?

"What you gettin' into a funk about this time, Gavin?" a voice drawled and he looked up to see Daryan sauntering into his office.

"Daryan." He turned his chair to face him. "What do you have for me?"

Daryan, however, didn't seem interested – he was examining his surroundings; from the papers on the ground to the charred guitar on the table before turning to Klavier with a smirk. "Man, for a perfectionist your office sure is a mess."

"Let's finish one case before getting onto another, ja?" Klavier said, irritated. "What did you find out about the victim?"

"It's as we thought. He never came to this country before," Daryan answered running his fingers over the remains of Klaviers guitar before focusing on him. "He hasn't had the chance to make any enemies here. Kid's the only one who coulda wasted him."

Klavier slumped in his chair looking as defeated as he felt. "But a 14 year old boy kill someone?" He shook his head disbelievingly.

"It wouldn't be the first time, man." Daryan shrugged leaning against the desk. "Who knows what drove him to it?"

"It was a .45 calibre pistol!" Klavier snapped. "That would cause a grown man severe damage!"

"Here he goes again," Daryan muttered under his breath before straightening up and piercing Klavier with a sharp stare. "Listen man, there were only two candidates – the diva and piano-boy. We've already established she couldn't fit into that vent so it has to be him! It doesn't matter how old he is. He ain't the first kid to commit murder and he ain't gonna be the last."

Klavier nodded, an unpleasant taste in his mouth because he couldn't deny the facts of the situation and he had no argument for Daryan's logic. So, he steeled himself and nodded once more, reminding himself that it was his duty to ensure criminals were brought to justice. His mouth set in a downward pout, he turned to look out of the window again, focusing on the lights of the buildings around him. Some were work lights but most were lights of apartment buildings and he wished one of those were his and he was turning in for the night. But sleep was out of the question with this case hanging over him.

"What you gonna do with this lump of crap, Gavin?" Daryan said and Klavier looked up to see him eyeing the burnt guitar again.

"I'm having someone inspect it," Klavier said walking up to the small table with the instrument on it and joining Daryan in his examination of it. "I want to know why it caught fire."

"You want me to take it over for ya?" Daryan offered but Klavier shook his head.

"I've already asked Fräulein Skye to do it."

"That mad scientist chick?" Klavier frowned but didn't say anything, choosing instead to nod. "Man, she's hot. Moody but hot."

"That's Fräulein Detective for you," Klavier said with a tiny smile as he remembered her trademark behaviour – munching Snackoos. He didn't know for sure why but every time he pictured her it was always with a bag of those strange snacks she never shared with anyone. Perhaps it was the way her lips moved when she munched on them, Klavier thought. Although, after the murder she had snacked very little and Klavier's smile disappeared as he remembered her ashen face. He knew she blamed herself to some extent for the events that had transpired as she had been on security. Of course, it was absurd for her to feel guilty – if anything, Klavier was glad she had only found the body once the murderer had escaped. When he heard she had run into the dressing room upon hearing the gunshots, namely the crime scene, he had felt horrified imagining all the ways she could have got hurt. It was an indication of her bravery and he admired her for it.

Klavier was growing increasingly fond of the detective. Even though she never smiled (unless smirking counted), was always snappy, never shared her Snackoos and always gave him a glare that told him she was not happy to see him, Klavier thought Ema Skye was the most endearing woman he had ever met. Perhaps it was the way her eyes sparkled at some new discovery or the adoringly childish tantrums she threw when something didn't go the way she wanted it to – he didn't know and, really, he didn't care. He just knew that teasing her was a favourite pastime of his and he liked the time he spent with her.

And then, there was that little… moment they had shared that morning in the hallway; he had experienced her in a whole other way – her body was surprisingly soft. Not that he had ever thought about what it would be like but he supposed given her hard behaviour that… well, he hadn't expected her body to be that soft. She had felt so petite in his arms and had she not pulled back when she did, Klavier was sure he would have hugged her. In that proximity, he had noticed many details about her – the scent of citron, the extraordinary length of her lashes and her bow shaped lips... Lips he'd never seen in their entirety until then because they were always in a scowl or a pout. She seemed so… pure. It was like a breath of fresh air.

"Hello, little lady," Daryan drawled and Klavier spun to find the protagonist of his thoughts standing in the doorway. Her usual scowl-slash-pout was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she looked tired and reserved.

She looked at Daryan blankly before turning to Klavier who was walking to her.

"Where's the guitar?" she asked bluntly and Klavier fought back a smile. He turned and gestured towards the table Daryan stood by. As both musicians watched, she walked over to it pulling out a bag in which she gingerly placed the instrument before wrapping it up briskly but gently. Before she could march off, however, Klavier stopped her as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"One moment, Fräulein Detective." She turned to look at him. "I wish to hear your opinion on something."

"What?"

"Why do you think Machi, assuming he is the murderer," (Daryan snorted) "committed the crime as described by the lyrics?"

Klavier waited patiently as Ema looked to the side while fingering her hair in the manner she always did when she was in thought. After a moment she shrugged.

"I couldn't even begin to guess."

"It cannot be a mere coincidence, ja?" Klavier continued. "Everything happened exactly as it was written."

"Not exactly," Daryan contradicted and they both looked at him. "There's one thing missing."

"What's that?" Ema demanded and he turned to her with a smirk.

"Pleasure." Klavier frowned as Daryan winked at Ema, grinning at her devilishly. "In the second verse; 'pleasure, pleasure' or something wasn't it? Guess its 'cos the kid dunno about things like that, eh?"

"Daryan, I hardly think this is the time for such comments," Klavier snapped.

Daryan scowled at him. "You can be such a stick in the mud, Gavin." He waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. I'm off. Catch you funks later."

Klavier watched as Daryan flashed a smile at Ema before sauntering off in the same manner he'd come in. She was looking at Daryan's retreating back with a scowl and he chuckled. "Do not mind him, Fräulein. He is a bit of a rogue."

"Hmph." She frowned. "He's fop too."

Klavier's mouth twitched. "Here I thought I was special Fräulein Detective. I am quite put out."

"Well, you're not." She shook her head and turned to follow Daryan but Klavier stopped her again. "What now?" she complained.

"Are you alright?" he was concerned at the eyebags that seemed to have developed under her eyes in an alarmingly short amount of time.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped.

"You must not feel guilty, Fräulein." Klavier said gently and she looked away again. "It was not your fault. It was Machi who–"

"Was it though?" Ema interrupted and he looked at her in surprise. "How can a blind child randomly kill his manager who, by the way, is twice as big as him?"

"I do not know, Fräulein." Klavier sighed pausing for a moment. "For what it's worth, I have my doubts too."

"Then why are you prosecuting him?"

"Fräulein," Klavier said taken aback at the vehemence in her voice. "You, yourself, told me the circumstances. I have no–"

"Yeah and tomorrow I have to pretend I believe it and testify against him." Ema's eyes were ablaze now. "And I hate it. I know that he didn't do it!"

"How can you know something like that?" Klavier demanded, feeling defensive now.

"Because I've been in his position and I wasn't guilty!" Ema blurted out and Klavier's retort died on his lips as he stared at her, aghast. Ema, realising what she had just said, clamped a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in horror.

"You–"

"I have to go," she said, hurriedly snatching up his guitar, and rushed out of his office before Klavier could get another word out. He stared at the empty doorway for several minutes in shock at what she had said. What had she meant? Ema had been a suspect in a murder trial? How could he not know something like this? And as the full implication of her outburst hit him, he felt the unease inside him turn into outright guilt and uncertainty.

Tomorrow was going to be tougher than he thought.