"You better enjoy these precious moments of freedom," Ema whispered in Deston's ear. "Because they're the last you'll have." Deston turned to look at her and she was pleased to see she'd caught him off-guard; he looked stunned. She wrapped a hand around his neck, knowing many were watching, and pulled him down until their lips were millimetres apart. She looked up into his surprised eyes and smirked. "It's going to take more than a thug to stop me, Mr Cavatin."
Ema was thoroughly enjoying the expression on his face – it had morphed into outright shock. She had him and she had him good – for good measure, she pulled him down into a kiss. The moment they touched, her body screamed at her to push him away, to slap him, to punch him, scratch him, knee him in the groin… She wanted to do anything but what she was forcing herself to do here. She wanted to shock him into silence, she wanted him to take her seriously, to know what she wasn't going to skulk away like a coward and hide in a corner and let him do whatever he had planned. She was certain he had expected her to back down and she had played the part well; she had remained quiet throughout the evening and answered his questions, spoken when only when spoken to. And a part of her had been shaken by what he'd done in retaliation to her confrontation with him but, tonight, all that had changed. She'd regained her strength because of –
"Ema?" Lana called again. She pulled away quickly and, shooting one last glance at Deston's staggered expression, she made her way amid the whoops and squeals (and she was sure, a few curses from some of the women). She smiled at the whoopers and refused to glance back at her 'boyfriend'. She looked at her sister instead and the man stood next to her. As soon as Ema's eyes landed on Klavier, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat; his expression was inscrutable and he was smiling.
"Mr Gavin has agreed to take you home, Ema," Lana said with a fond smile at Klavier who chuckled.
"Fräulein, I think it would be quite alright if you called me Klavier," he said, eyeing her with amusement.
"Very well," Lana laughed. "Klavier's ready to take you home."
Ema took a deep breath and looked up at him again and that emotion overwhelmed her again. Why did his gaze on her feel so heavy all of a sudden? Why did the nearness of him make her want to run toward him and away from him at the same time?
"Are you sure?" she asked, somewhat timidly.
When his gaze turned toward her, she thought she saw a glimmer of anger in his eyes but it was gone so suddenly that she was sure she'd imagined it. He offered her a small smile and nodded.
"I have work to do, in any case," Klavier said and Ema's heart sank a little. Wouldn't he have wanted to take her otherwise?
Ema shook herself mentally, astonished at what was going through her head. Since when did his decisions affect her emotionally? Since when did she want to spend time with him? He was her boss – no – her fop of a boss! A glimmerous fop!
And yet… Ema marvelled at her own thoughts. Yet… her eyes were roaming his face and… how had she not noticed the dazzling blue of his eyes? She'd always thought of them as twinkling with mischief but now…
"Ema?"
She started at the voice and smiled at her sister and shook her head, waving a hand about. "Sorry – I think I'm more tired than I realised."
"Come, let us get you home," Klavier said and, to her surprise, he placed a hand on the small of her back. She almost jumped and, if he noticed her reaction, he didn't show it. "Congratulations on your engagement, Lana."
"Thank you for coming, Klavier," Lana said. "And your performance was amazing. It made my evening."
Klavier inclined his head. "It is my pleasure and an honour."
Ema was silent as he turned and waved to Deston and a few others; she had lost her voice and she suspected it had something to do with his hand pressed lightly against her back. She felt she had lost control of a situation she didn't know she was in – how could she fix something when she didn't even know what was wrong? She allowed him to lead her, in a daze, and it wasn't long before she felt the cool night air sweep around her and she shivered. Just as she was wishing she had brought a coat with her, she felt something warm snake around her and she jumped. Looking down at what it was, her eyes widened; his fingers had wrapped themselves around her arm and were slowly rubbing her skin. She glanced up at him, shocked, and saw that he was smiling at her.
"You are cold, ja?" he asked and she nodded, unable to respond vocally. "We are almost to the car."
Ema still didn't answer. What the hell was wrong with her? She sneaked a glance at him from the corner of her eye and saw that he was just looking ahead now. She wanted to say something – a 'thank you, a 'sorry', anything… but she couldn't. And his fingers rubbing against her bare skin wasn't helping the situation. It was as though, like a chemical, she was reacting to him but not the way she should. Why?
What had changed in her?
She knew that something inside of her had changed. She'd felt it. She'd found strength she didn't know she had. All of the fear born of her knowledge of Deston's nature had suddenly been washed away; like the unsuspected sand overtaken and swept away by the relentless tide of the sea, she felt purified of something dirty.
And it was all because of him.
Klavier.
Ema didn't understand it… When he'd sat on that stool, when he'd begun playing his guitar and his voice had mingled with the music, something had stirred inside her. It had both saddened her and made her happy… When he'd sung, it had been different from his concerts somehow. Yes, the music was different, he was singing alone and the lyrics weren't in the usual style – they were normal. But it was more than that – it had been so special. It had felt as though he'd been singing to her. She had felt something inside of her growing and every glance he threw at her had only intensified the feeling. It had given her the courage she needed to say to Deston what she had, to promise him his own demise.
But what was this other feeling?
Her hand rose to her lips and she rubbed them, subconsciously, as she recalled kissing Deston. She closed her eyes in protest at the memory and she felt miserable. Klavier must have seen her. She didn't know why it mattered that he had – only that it did. Her heart was sinking until she was sure it was going to slide through her feet and into the ground where it would erode into nothingness. She felt disgusted with herself and she wanted to bite her lips until they bled as a punishment for pressing them against the ones of the man who was trying to hurt the one she…
She what?
"My lady," Klavier said, holding the door open for her. Startled, she looked at his smiling face before getting in and allowing him to shut the door for her. A few seconds later, he was in the car beside her and inserting his key into the ignition. Ema stared at him, noting the stark contrast between his skin and the whiteness of his shirt. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, and she looked away quickly when he turned to her, cursing herself for allowing him to catch her staring at him for the second time that night. Wordlessly, she nodded. "And the performance?"
"It was one of your best," she said and then her eyes widened. Oh, now, her voice was back. Now, she could talk. But it was the memory of the song that had spurred her into talking. Ema knew that she would remember it for the rest of her life… She knew she would treasure that memory, cherish the feelings that had swept through her when his voice had filled the room. Never could she forget the way it seemed to have ran along the nerves of her being, sending her spiralling into an emotional oblivion.
"Danke." He sounded surprised when he spoke.
Neither of them spoke again and the drive passed in silence. Ema wondered what had him so quiet – he was usually so vocal about his thoughts. And then, she chided herself for being an idiot. Didn't she spend half her life wishing he would shut up?
So what the hell was wrong with her now?
"Klavier?" she said and her body jerked involuntarily at the unexpected sound of her own voice.
"Ja, Fräulein?" he said and she heard the smile in his voice.
Now what, genius? Speaking before thinking… Isn't that what almost got you killed? Why don't you learn from your mistake?
"I'm sorry for…" she took a deep breath. "For being a burden."
"Ema," Klavier sighed and he was shaking his head but she barely noticed – her heart had skipped a beat at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. "You always say the most ludicrous of things." She blushed at the exasperation in his voice and wished she hadn't said anything. "You have never been a burden and I doubt you ever will be."
She didn't know what to say to that except, "Thank you."
The remainder of the car ride was spent in small talk about the party; he did most of the talking while she simply nodded, giving one or two-word answers as she tried to ignore the feeling that was numbing her senses. Every time silence filled the car, his song echoed in her ears as if he was singing again and Ema had to look at him to see if his lips were moving. She wondered if she was going nutty – there was no other way to explain the madness that seemed to be taking over her.
When they reached the building that housed his penthouse suite, Klavier's arm was around her again and she jumped noticeably, not expecting the contact. Her mind kept going blank, giving in to the bizarre sensations that seemed to keep attacking her. He chuckled at her reaction.
"You are safe with me, liebling."
"I know," was the answer that fell from her mouth unbidden, unexpected. This time, however, Ema wasn't surprised – she'd realised that she had long lost control of that particular part of her body. So, instead, she allowed herself to be led up to their – no, his – apartment. It was only once they were within the warm confines of the penthouse that he eventually let go and Ema fancied that the area of her arm he had been touching had become colder than the rest of her body at the separation. Ema stood in the same spot, a few feet ahead of the door, rubbing her arms with her hand. And she watched.
She examined the way he casually threw his keys on a small table and switched the lamp on. She observed him as he moved across to the other side and flicked another switch to enable the heating. With each little action, Ema noticed the way his fingers moved confidently, the expression that crossed his face, the litheness of his body, the speed of his pace…
And then he was looking at her again but this time, she didn't avert her gaze; there was power radiating from him and she could feel him pulling her in, commanding her to come to him and she wasn't sure she could deny him…
"Are you alright?" Klavier said and then, to her horror, he moved toward her. Her body reacted instantly by moving backwards and she saw him stop, confusion creeping onto his face. "Ema?"
"I have… I don't…" Ema gulped and she saw him frown. He must be thinking I'm insane, she thought. She didn't blame him – she was positive she was. What else would explain her behaviour?
"Fräulein?" Klavier said, and he took a step toward her cautiously, but Ema wasn't paying attention. What was going on inside her? She had barely drank a glass of wine, she hadn't taken any medication today… So why could she hear his voice singing when his lips weren't moving? Why could she feel him when he was standing nowhere near her? Why was every part of her vibrating with this feeling? She looked at him again.
When she saw his unblemished skin, she knew that it was the remedy for her tingling fingers. She glanced at his half-raised hand, as if he was going to touch her, and she knew what her humming body was longing for. Her eyes found his lips and she knew why her mouth had gone dry.
And her heart exploded with realisation.
Just as her legs crumbled from under her, Klavier shouted, "Ema!" and then suddenly his arms were around her, and she felt herself being lifted up into the air. What had she been thinking? What foolishness had induced her to let her defences down? What was she going to do now? How could she have ever allowed herself to…
"Ema! Answer me!" Klavier's voice caught her attention and the panic in it caused a pang in her heart. She didn't want to cause him any distress…
"I'm okay," she mumbled and she tried to focus on the blurry shape before her until it sharpened into his face. Her hands fluttered around her and she realised he'd laid her on the sofa. She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, her face flushing when his hands came around her to help. She wanted to take his hands in hers, to hold them and kiss them… and this thought brought tears to her eyes because she knew she couldn't.
"I am calling the Doktor," he said she saw him stand up to pull his phone out of his pocket but her hand automatically reached out and grabbed his. Ema thought, for a split second, it had convinced him but then she saw that she'd just caught him by surprised. He stared at their hands for a few seconds and then his own fingers curled around hers and he crouched down before her and looked into her face. All of a sudden, Ema wanted to push him away and run into her bedroom and lock herself in until she regained her sanity.
"What is it, Ema?" he murmured. "Why are there tears in your eyes?"
Ema broke down.
She never cried in front of anyone – it was something she could never do, even if she wanted to, but the concern in his voice and the caring words had snapped her control and she couldn't hold it back anymore. Again, it was as though the dam broke and an awful feeling washed over, suffocating her and taking her under, crushing her with its lethal pressure…
"Ema…" Klavier murmured and suddenly, he was sat beside her, holding her as she cried into his arms. Somehow it didn't make sense for her to cry in the arms of the reason for her tears and yet it felt perfectly right. She closed her eyes against the confusion, resting her head against his chest, letting his hand run through her hair. "You're safe, Ema," he said reassuringly. "You're safe here."
And the words that were meant to be comforting, made her realise how unsafe she actually was – she was crying in the arms of the man she was in love with and he had no idea.
Why was she letting him hold her when it was doing nothing but making her long for him more?
"I'm fine," she said, pulling away and wiping the tears that had frozen on her cheeks. "Sorry. I'm just tired."
"Ema, there is no sh – "
"I'm fine," she cut across him curtly. "Could you move your hand?"
He didn't oblige straight away; his fingers lingered on her back and then, just as she was about to repeat her request, they drifted away. She suddenly felt hollow and cold and it took all of her willpower to refrain from crying again. So, instead, she stood up and, without looking back at him, walked to her bedroom, muttering a 'goodnight'. She managed to hold her tears back long enough to close her door, lock it and collapse onto her bed and then they were flowing again.
How could she have let a damn song do this to her? How could she have fallen in love with him just because of a song? He was a singer, an artist, it was his job to sing and just because he had cast her a few glances and a smile and sung a few words that reflected their first meeting, she'd allowed herself to hope that maybe, maybe, he felt something for her. So what if he did? Was she so willing to give away her sanity for a little something?
Yes.
She froze at the response.
You're willing because you know that you loved him long before the damn song.
"What…?" Her voice was barely audible.
It's normal to risk your life, the way you have, for your boss is it? It's normal to feel jealous at the thought of him being with another woman?
"No…" she whispered in denial.
It's normal to cry because your boss might hate you, is it? It's normal to respond to his touch, is it? Normal, is it, to notice the features of his face in so much detail? Normal, that you worry about his feelings? Normal to fly into a rage because he avoids you? Normal that your blood boils every time you remember Deston and Daryan bad-mouthing Klavier? Normal that your heart almost stops at the sight of his bandaged hand? Normal, is it, that you're willing to risk your life for him without a second thought?
Is it?
"But…"
No BUTS, Ema! Enough is enough! How long are you going to run from the truth? Where's your logic now? Where's your science now? Is it any wonder you couldn't pass your damn forensics exam when you can't even understand yourself? You're brave enough to threaten the man who's tried to kill you but you don't have the courage to face the truth! What sort of bravery is that?
"He'll never love me this way…" she whispered to herself, brokenly. "Why would he?"
So what? Since when did loving someone become conditional? Are you naïve enough to think every one who has ever loved has been loved back?
"No."
You can still love him. You can be there for him. You can protect him. Or are you too weak and selfish?
"No."
Is your heartbreak more important than his safety? Is your sorrow more important than his friendship?
"No."
Then be his friend.
"I will."
Be his shield.
"I will."
Love him.
"I will."
He was standing ankle deep in the water, staring out at the sea. The light of the dying sun reflected off him and she was awed by the sight of him. She had known he was perfect but bathed in the glow of the sunset, Ema saw that she had never really appreciated his beauty. She called to him, wanting him to turn around so she could see his face fully, to commit it to memory in this golden light but he didn't turn. She called again and then he shifted and her heart leapt at the thought that, any second now, she would be looking into his eyes, seeing him smirk at her in that endearingly irritating manner he always did…
But he didn't. Instead, he took a step further into the sea and she frowned. What…? And then, when he didn't stop moving, horror swept through her as she realised what he was doing.
"Klavier!" she screamed. "What the hell are you doing?"
And still he didn't stop – he was knee deep in water and Ema made to move forward but she couldn't. She looked down at her legs and saw she was knee deep in the sand. Terrified, she looked up at Klavier and screamed his name again but it was as though he couldn't hear her…
"Ema." She was looking into eyes blacker than the night, skin darker than honey, a face she didn't recognise… "Save him."
"I can't move!" she cried. "Please stop him, please he – "
"I cannot."
"Please!" she screamed. "Stop him – KLAVIER! KLAVIER DON'T!"
"You are holding yourself back, Ema," the spectre behind her said. "Let go and save him. Save him…"
"KLAVIER!"
Ema gasped, her eyes flying open. It took her a moment to remember where she was as she sat up and she looked this way and that, expecting to see Klavier drowning himself. However, when she saw her four walls and felt the satin of her bed sheets, she knew everything was okay. She'd just had a nightmare. It was okay. Everything was fine.
She fell back into her pillow and sighed, running a hand through her hair which, she now noticed, was damp. In fact, she was sweating – her body was clammy and she was shaking. Sitting up and throwing her duvet aside, Ema rubbed her temples. She glanced at the clock which told it was just after 1 AM.
"Great," she murmured. She walked to the window and opened it, letting the cool air wash over her but it's presence made her aware of her own thirst. Rolling her eyes irritably at the demands of her body, she walked to the door, not bothering to throw on a robe. She padded across the room in the dark and opened the refrigerator, looking for something cool to drink. She pulled out a bottle of water and just as she made to close the door, something glinted to her right. When she saw a figure sat on the sofa, Ema jumped backwards her heart racing, thinking it was her attacker again, but then she saw the chain and took a deep breath.
"What are you still doing up, Klavier?"
He didn't respond and she frowned, wondering if he was ignoring her. She peered into his face as she approached him and when her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, she realised that he'd fallen asleep in this position. Her fingers stopped short of touching his shoulder when she took a good look at his face. Gently placing the bottle on the floor, she tip-toed to the window where she threw open the curtains. Turning around, she saw his face bathed in moonlight and she was taken aback by the expression on his face. She slid into the space beside him, careful not to wake him, and then she studied.
She had never seen this look on his face before – it was an utterly defenceless expression. The contour of his face was undisturbed and she saw so many things she never had before: the way his lips naturally curved up at the corners and that his lower lip was fuller than the top, seductively inviting. She had always noticed the twinkle in his eyes but now that they were closed, she could see the way they were evenly spaced and curved inwards. She had always known that his jaw was sharp but now… in the shadows cast by the moonlight, his face looked as though it had been chiselled out of stone. In that moment, with no fear of being teased for studying him, Ema saw a thousand and one things she never would have otherwise.
But she also wondered, that if he was at peace now and this was his relaxed face, why had she never seen this expression before? Why was this face so alien to her despite the fact that she'd worked with him for so long, had lived with him for several weeks and spent most of her time for the past few months in his company?
And then Phoenix's voice rang true and clear in her head: how many smiles do you think he can fake before he cracks?
Her eyes continued to rake his face as she thought it over. She knew that Phoenix was always right but somehow… it hadn't sunk in. Had all of his smiles been so forced? Was not a single one real? And, quite suddenly, something was stirring in her chest as she thought about what he must be hiding beneath all of those jokes and all of that professional charm. There was a lump at the back of her throat and she was sure that if she continued to stare at his devastatingly handsome face, she would cry. Yet, she couldn't look away and one thought was running around in her mind; while she had her sister and good friends… His family and best friend were in prison for murder.
And suddenly, she needed to touch him as though doing so would transfer some of her love for him into his body and comfort him in his dreams. She knew it was completely irrational and not at all possible but… she didn't give a damn about rationale. Or anything else for that matter.
Her fingers were surprisingly steady as they moved toward his face and she ran her fingers lightly over his jaw, feeling the faint stubble there. She was surprised – there was something about him that was so boyish that she had never really considered him having facial hair. She smiled at the thought; he wasn't a boy – he was a man. More of a man than she had ever realised…
And her fingers were hovering over his slightly parted lips. In the moonlight, they looked softer than usual and alluring and she wanted nothing more than to press her own to them in a chaste kiss just so that she could feel them with hers, to fill that little hollow between his… No sooner had this thought crossed her mind that she felt like kicking herself for thinking of it because now she was probably going to do it even if she knew she would regret it afterwards. She was telling her body to stop, as her hand settled gently against the side of his face...
Stop, stop, stop… Don't do it…
But it was no use – her heart wasn't in it. She wanted to kiss him. She leaned in, inhaling deeply, and she noted that he smelled good but then what else could she expect?
And then he stirred.
Ema froze – quite literally. She didn't pull her hand back and she didn't move away. Even when his eyes fluttered open and he turned to look at her, Ema's hand remained disobediently on his cheek. She waited for him ask what the hell she was doing, fully expecting him to pull away and stare at her as though she was an idiot.
But he didn't.
He stared back at her and with every passing moment, her breathing was becoming more shallow, more difficult to take. Every second that her hand remained on his face, she lost some of herself in the intensity of his eyes, gaining confidence. Her fingers twitched and then they were tracing the outline of his face, brushing his soft hair out of his eyes, running over his brow and skimming over his forehead. This time, she didn't hesitate; she moved forward and, with her hand, guided his face. When her lips finally touched his cheek, she felt a fiery intensity course through her – more intense than anything she had ever felt before. It was as though the storm that had been building inside of her had finally thundered, drenching her in its rain, and she was lost in it.
In him.
And before she knew it, her arms were around his neck and she was hugging him, her face pressed into his neck. Her heart warmed when she felt his arms go around her waist and he hugged her back. His silent acceptance of her gesture meant the world to her – more than she had ever realised anything could mean.
"Thank you," she said and her voice was muffled.
His hands were running up and down her back, starting a wildfire in her and she had to pull away. "For everything," she said, gesturing around, avoiding his gaze. "For letting me stay with you, for putting up with my weird behaviour earlier…"
"I do not remember any weird behaviour, mein liebe," Klavier said with a smile, taking her hand in his. "And it is my pleasure to have you here." His eyes gleamed mischievously and Ema found a smile creeping on her face as she guessed at his next remark; "And if it means the beautiful Ema Skye will hug me then you are welcome to stay for as long as you wish!"
She laughed and smacked his arm playfully. "Don't get carried away, Gavin."
He chuckled. "What will happen if I do?"
Ema's heart skipped a beat and she swallowed. "Then I won't be your friend anymore!" she joked.
"Am I your friend, Ema?" Klavier asked and his voice was barely a murmur.
"Of course," Ema said softly. She looked down at their joined hands and smiled. "You always will be." When Klavier didn't answer, Ema wondered if she'd said something wrong and she looked up at him. To her relief, he was smiling at her and she grinned. "You're still a fop, though."
Klavier threw his head back and laughed. "Just a fop?"
Ema glanced at his chain critically and one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. "Well, it's too dark for any glimmerousness. You'll be glimmerous in the morning."
"Is that so?" Klavier said, also raising an eyebrow. "I am also your boss in the morning, Fräulein Detective." Ema's eyes widened at the implication of those words and, again, Klavier laughed heartily. And then he lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss on her palm and her breathing stopped. "You have nothing to fear. I prize my friends far too much to let them go."
"Well," Ema said, clearing her throat. "If you sacked me I'd just move in here permanently and bother you until you gave me my job back."
Klavier's lips twitched. "This is a serious threat indeed. However, I must consider the fact that you have just blackmailed your boss – "
"My fop of a boss," Ema interrupted.
" – and insulted him… Perhaps, I should consider sacking you after all." He was smiling now but his eyes were serious and his fingers were now suddenly entwined in hers and her heart was racing again.
"You can't sack me," Ema said, glancing down at their hands but it only served to make matters worse. Her breathing was ragged again and she didn't want to show him how much of an effect he had on her. "Because I need my daily supply of Snackoos and if I can't afford them anymore then I'll probably kill you."
"Ah, what a sweet death it would be," Klavier murmured and he was looking at their hands now and when his thumb swept across her palm, she shivered. Ema knew this was getting dangerous. She knew how she felt but, despite his words and actions, Ema wasn't certain about him - she didn't want to risk going into something complicated with everything else going on - and she didn't think she had the psychological capacity to deal with the mystery of their relationship. She was ready to love him now, she was ready to die for him but that didn't mean she had let go of all her inhibitions. If she was going to make herself vulnerable, she needed to know the strength of his feelings first.
"I should probably get back to sleep," she said quietly. "You should as well. It's late." She waited for him to look up, to show that he had heard her but he was still stroking the inside of her hand thoughtfully. With all of her strength, she opened her lips to repeat herself and just then he stood up, pulling her up with him. Silently, he led her to the door of her bedroom and with each step, her anxiousness heightened. What was he doing? He wasn't going to…? Was he?
"Fräulein," he said, gesturing towards her room with his right hand as his left still clasped hers. "Your bed awaits you." Then he kissed her fingers and she blushed, thankful for the darkness that veiled her shyness. She put her hands on his shoulders and, as if knowing what she was about to do, Klavier leaned down and smiled when she dropped a kiss on his cheek again.
"Night, Mr Gavin," she said quietly and heard him chuckle.
"Gute nacht, mein liebe," Klavier replied. "Sleep well."
She knew she would. By the time she slipped into bed and pulled the covers over herself, Ema had completely forgotten all about her nightmare.
Ema had decided to go back to work. For one, she was an active person and sitting around at home bored her to no end. For another, she was going to find out who was leaving her the HS-9 notes once and for all. She had an idea as to who it was – it had blond hair and a cheeky smile that kept floating before her eyes. Lastnight's conversation combined with the song… yes, Ema was pretty sure she knew who it was.
However, her desire to go back to work hadn't been enough to convince Klavier to actually let her – he had insisted (on pain of Snackoo deprivation) that she remain at home and that she hand whatever work she needed done, to someone else.
"You will rest, Fräulein," he had told her sternly when the idea of Snackoo starvation didn't work. "Or I will ring your sister."
Faced with this threat, Ema had had no choice but to (sulkily) agree to remain at home. Therefore, she had rang someone in work and instructed them to find one of the notes (there were so many littered around her desk) and perform a handwriting analysis. It had been almost an hour and she had already rang twice asking for the results only to be told they weren't available yet. She was pretty sure she had terrorised the guy on the last call but, really, how long did it take to perform a simple handwriting test? This was important and she needed an answer preferably before she ripped her hair out. She wanted to know who was leaving her a love note. She wanted to know if it was him…
Ema smiled when she remembered how she'd woken up and found Klavier busy at work in the kitchen preparing breakfast fit for a crowd. Laughing at the way he was rushing about, Ema had quickly learnt that he was a far better cook than she had imagined or she, herself, could ever hope to be. Not only was it cooked to perfection, he'd also managed it all by himself. When she tried helping (and promptly burnt some of it), Klavier had hastily insisted that she sit down and let him do the rest.
She chuckled. It had been a special morning – she'd woken early, because she'd wanted to go to work, so it had still been somewhat dark. The curtains that Ema had opened last night had remained that way so, when they were sat at the table and the sun rose, Ema saw him bathed in its glow. She'd stared at him, unable to tear her eyes away from the magnificence of his face, and watched him talk, smile, laugh – all of this highlighted by the light of the rising sun. She had wanted to reach over and touch his glowing skin, to brush his bangs out of his eyes but, of course, she couldn't. Surprisingly, it hadn't hurt her not to be able to do so – she'd been quite content to watch him eat and talk with her. She'd realised later that she must have looked like a love-sick fool but she had been unable to prevent it – how could she, when she was so entranced by the warmth of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the charm of his words?
And when he said her name, Ema's insides danced with joy. When he looked at her and smiled she felt like she was the most special person in the world. When he spoke to her, she could almost believe he loved her as much as she loved him. And when he left for work, she had felt like he'd taken her heart with him and it was then that she had realised the real reason she wanted to go back to work – to be with him.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go. She wanted to hold him and absorb all his pain. She wanted to murmur her love to him every minute of the day; it was like a volcanic secret that needed release; she wanted to look him in the eyes and tell him the secret of her heart…
The sight Klavier's face floated before her closed eyes. Twin pools of azure glittered with mischief and she smiled, chuckling to herself.
The phone interrupted her thoughts and her eyes flew open as she cursed herself for letting her mind drift. She answered her phone on the second ring.
"Yes?" Ema demanded. "Have you got the results?"
"Yes," the man said timidly. Ema guessed he was still afraid of her but maybe that telling-to she'd given him earlier had been what got the job done now. "The handwriting belongs to Deston Cavatin, CJIS Division, FBI. He's a friend of Mr Gavin and – "
Ema stopped listening.
Deston Cavatin?
She cursed. The bastard… The good-for-nothing, shameless, evil bastard!
What the hell was he up to now?
Ema took a deep breath and, setting her phone aside, rubbed her eyes. Not only had this dashed any hopes of being certain Klavier felt something for her, she was now also left wondering what the hell Deston was playing at leaving those notes. He knew she was scientific when it came to figuring something out so he must have expected her to do a handwriting test on the note – the fact that she hadn't until now had just been because of her ignorance as to the nature of the message. But once she figured it out, what did he expect? Did he really think that she would believe he was madly in love with her? That he was professing his all-dying love for her?
She bunched her fists in frustration as she recalled another call she'd placed – to the security officer at the prison asking to see a tape of Cell Block C of the day she had overheard Daryan and Deston talking so that she could discover what it was about. Only, she'd been told that the security tapes for Cell Block C were restricted by the FBI and she was pretty sure she knew who in the FBI had restricted them. So, in addition to not knowing what exactly Deston had planned with Daryan and what his grudge against Klavier was, now she also had to figure out how HS-9 tied into a mystery she had no information about.
"AGH!"
She stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the apartment and stared down at the other buildings and the roads although she could barely make anything out – this building was dangerously tall and, of course, Klavier's apartment was at the very top. She would love to introduce Deston to the road below from up here. She looked across to the building opposite, trying to distract herself from the rage overtaking her. There was a woman on one of the balconies with a baby in her arms and she was pointing up at the sky as if she was trying to convince her child to look at the sky. A few stories above her, a man was also stood on the balcony and looked to be unpacking something from a black duffel bag. He paused, as if he knew he was being watched, and glanced up at her. His smirk was so obvious as he raised a hand to wave at her, that Ema made a sound in her throat. That smirk, somehow, reminded her of Deston – she'd never seen Deston smirk but the one on the guy's face was a clear representation of Deston's personality – arrogant, evil and cocky. She was going to kill him. She was going to take her gun and shoot his –
"AGGGHHH!" She marched to a table beside the sofa to rummage around in her bag for her Snackoos. Her blood pressure was rising and that was bad news for a normal person but for Ema…
A beep at the door caught her attention and she frowned wondering who it was. Cards were only used by authorised guests – Klavier always used his keys. Lana was busy today and Ema wasn't expecting anyone. Her eyes widened when she saw a flash of yellow and the victim of her murder fantasies looked around the flat. When his eyes landed on her he practically ran towards her.
"Ema, come with me, we need to – "
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Ema hissed, narrowing her eyes at him as she moved back, and Deston slowed down.
"Ema…?" Deston said, and Ema laughed derisively at the feigned expression of confusion on his face.
"Don't give me that, you overgrown canary! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you really think I'll walk out of here with you so –" She grabbed a handful of Snackoos and threw them at him, " – you can – " she threw another handful of them at him, " – murder me!" Losing control, she threw the entire bag at him. " You – "
"Ema!" Deston cut across her loudly. "I don't have time for your theatrics! We have to go! Now! I have to get you out of here befo – "
"Before what?" Ema snapped, moving backwards, watching him through suspicious eyes. "Before I tell Klavier what you're planning? Before I stop you from – "
"Ema," Deston said warningly. "I swear to God if you don't follow me right now I'll – "
"You'll what Deston?" Ema hissed, taking a step back with every step he took forward. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Go ahead!" she spat at him. "I'm not scared of you."
Deston frowned at her thunderously and his fists clenched as he moved toward her with increasing speed once more. "Ema Skye, I'm telling you for the last time. If I have to, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry out of here like a ne – " Mid–rant he glanced to the right, out of the window, and froze. Ema watched him take a step towards where she'd been stood before, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to make something out. She heard him take a deep breath and, taking advantage of whatever had distracted him, she slipped her hand inside her bag on the table. Suddenly, he hissed and just as her fingers slipped around the metal of her gun, Deston shouted, "Get DOWN!" and he flew across the room at her, tackling her to the ground, as the world exploded around them in a shower of glass and pulsing torrents of flame.