Excuse me while I try to find a balance between my personal writing style and something suitable for this series. It's a work in progress.

In the meantime, hooray for character development! These boys have flaws, and I love them for it. :3

Ema Skye liked Apollo well enough. He was a little brash, but at least he wasn't full of himself, not to mention he actually appreciated her talents.

So when she saw him wandering around the parking lot with the most pitiful expression she'd ever seen and…glittering from head to toe, she felt a bit of compassion for him. Without a word, she surprised him by grabbing his wrist and began dragging him towards the security gate.

"I thought I told you—" the guard snapped to attention when he noticed the young detective, a red tint dusting across the bridge of his nose, "Miss Skye!"

Ema lifted the rose lenses from her eyes, simultaneously lifting Apollo's wrist for display, who was currently looking quite miserable and embarrassed (and just a little confused).

"This guy's with me," she said simply and matter-of-factly.

"O-of course, detective!...wait, when you say he's with you…"

"That'll be all, Dustin," she said, breezing past him with Apollo in tow.

It was only once they were inside that Apollo's mouth caught up with him, "W-wait, that guy said I need clearance."

"We'll just say you're working a case if anyone asks."

Apollo jerked to a stop, "But that's fraud!"

"Geez, relax, it's not like I'm sneaking you into a bank vault. Besides, Dustin's got a bit of a crush on me, so I doubt he'll tell anyone," she looked him up and down, "Besides, you must have a pretty good reason to be here if you're willing to show up wearing that."

Apollo let out a breath of air that was half indignant sigh, half a groan of defeat, "Yeah, about that…um, you wouldn't happen to have a change of clothes I could borrow, do you?"

Ema tilted her head, hand on her chin, "Hmm…You're about Dustin's size, I think; I'm sure he won't mind if I ask if he has anything to spare."

Apollo gave an appreciative nod, and five minutes later he was sitting in the forensics lab, being handed a change of clothes.

"You can change in there, "Ema pointed at what looked like a locker room, "Just don't touch any of my stuff."

"Thank you. I can't even begin to tell you what a godsend you are."

She looked at him for a moment, giving him another once-over, "…do I even want to know?"

"Hnngh…it's a long story."

She raised an eyebrow, but knew better than to pursue the subject, "Whatever. I'm going to the vending machine, I should be back in about fifteen minutes."

She promptly turned around and left, no doubt off to buy what Apollo suspected were probably Snackoos. He looked at the bundle in his hands and examined it—simple slacks and a white collar long-sleeve.

Perfectly normal.

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all. His smile was however quickly replaced by a look of panic as Apollo jumped at the sudden sound of a phone ringing. He glanced around and located the source of the noise on the far wall, a black, cheap looking handset with a flashing red light. He hesitated, then figured it was probably best to just let it ring and went to go change.

The phone was at most a minor annoyance as he shrugged off his cape, but it was still ringing by the time he buttoned up the collar shirt. He opened the locker room door and cautiously peeked into the lab. Ema—nor anyone, for that matter—had yet to return, and whoever was calling showed no signs of giving up. He approached the phone, looked nervously around the room once more, and then carefully picked up the receiver.

"…hello?"

A low, male voice answered him, "Took you long enough, Justice."

The phone nearly shot out of his hand.

"W-who is this?!" he squawked, not unlike a parrot.

"Guess, Mein Forehead."

Apollo froze. Shit. Not here, please not now. The day was just starting to look up.

"How did you know I was here?" he was quieter this time, a little concerned, but also genuinely curious.

"You walked by my office with the Detective Fräulein. It was hard not to notice your…attire."

Apollo grimaced—he could practically hear the smile in Klavier's voice.

"…was there anything important you needed to tell me?"

"Nothing really. I just wanted to see you."

Apollo literally bolted a good foot ahead of himself when he heard this. This was because he heard it right next his ear—the one that wasn't currently pressed up against the receiver. He spun around and found himself opposite of the tan face of Klavier Gavin, and dammit, dammit, why was this happening?

There was Klavier, picturesque smile, pulling his mobile away from his ear with all the smooth movement of a seasoned rock star, and shit if he didn't look cool, which was just not acceptable at the moment, not when he was closing in on him like this. One of Klavier's hands reached up, and Apollo instinctively shut his eyes and flinched, only opened them when he felt a light pressure being lifted from his visage. In between Klavier's thumb and forefinger rested the domino mask that Apollo had, for the second time that day, forgotten to remove.

"No vanishing acts, ja?," said Klavier in a soft tone that left a red stain on Apollo's cheeks.

Apollo took a step back and found himself backing into the forensics table, and before he could even regret the movement, Klavier's hands found their place on either side of him, and he felt his temper flare up at just how unfair this was, because why, why, why—

…why hadn't he moved yet?

Apollo swallowed, the prosecutor's lips mere inches from his own, "You know I'm straight, right?"

"Yes. So am I. And?"

Apollo was very seriously considering that he might be insane, and that his brand of logic was off-kilter—it was statistically a better bet than everyone around him being insane. He was about to say something in response, when Klavier flashed him the sort of smile that made him think, (Oh god, I aminsane) and he considered for the briefest (the briefest!) of moments switching to whatever brand of logic everybody else seemed to be using.

But then Klavier moved forward ever so slightly, and that was all it took for their lips to connect, and Apollo had to wonder why he had let Klavier get that close in the first place. He didn't even hesitate this time to shove the man forcefully away.

"Klavier, you can't just do that!"

"And why not? Would you like me to take you out to dinner first?" he smiled slyly.

"No! I don't want to go anywhere!"

"Good."

He kissed him again, this time a little more urgently, and Apollo had a harder time prying him off of himself.

"Dammit, don't you ever listen when someone just flat out says, 'No'?!"

Klavier blinked at him, surprised, and it suddenly dawned on the defense attorney, (No one's ever actually said 'no', have they?)

Apollo brought his hand to his face and palmed his eyes, the skin cool against his flushed expression, "I'm not some girl you can just sweep off their feet."

He could feel something rising at the back of his throat, a sort of numbing pressure behind his eyes. His head was pounding and he swore he was close to seeing white.

Klavier looked at him, unable to say anything but, "I…I apologize."

Inexplicably, Apollo snapped, "Then stop it! I can't handle this…this…"

(This attraction.)

He couldn't bring himself to use another word, because this wasn't happening, this just wasn't real, and he most certainly couldn't understand why it scared him as much as it did.

"Maybe one of your fans would've found this…romantic, or…cute or whatever, but I don't. To be honest, it's kind of intimidating. Just…please, stop, don't come near me."

Klavier immediately took a step back, and Apollo couldn't help but focus on this simple movement, because it made him look uncharacteristically withdrawn, so vulnerable and small. A part of him made the parallel comparison to all the times Klavier had done the same thing, had made him sweat and step back, and it suddenly struck him just how much power he held over this man, because Apollo hadn't even moved to do the same thing in return, just used words, things that weren't even corporeal.

He locked eyes with Klavier and felt his chest constrict, because the look on the prosecutor's face was nothing short of pained. He clasped a hand over his mouth and didn't know what to say.

(Shit, he's…serious. He's actually serious.)

There was an unbearable moment of thick silence, and then Klavier opened his mouth to say something. What he was about to say however, Apollo never found out, because at that exact moment the sound of footsteps in the hallway made his nerves go into overdrive, and without giving him any choice in the matter his instincts made him bolt for the door.

He passed Ema on the way out, caught a glimpse of her shocked expression as he hurried past, "Apollo, what on earth—"

But he was already gone.