Chapter Text
Klavier Gavin, a prosecutor of great renown and former global rock sensation, was locked in a Mexican standoff at 2 am with a golden retriever.
“Vongole, do not move a muscle”
Contrary to his command, Vongole crouched down slightly. It was a position Klavier had gotten very familiar with over the last few months. It meant she was about to bolt.
This time however, Klavier was going to win. He’d cornered her at the end of the hallway and the door to his recording studio was shut tight. She had nowhere to go but past him.
“Give me the mascara, Vongole. You’ve got nowhere to run this time”
Vongole let out a huff in response, mascara still firmly in her mouth as she crouched further. Klavier mirrored her without thinking, lowering himself slightly and putting his hands out, ready to catch any large golden masses of fur that he might soon come into contact with.
What Klavier had failed to consider was how wide his stance was.
She sprang off from her crouched position. Klavier moved forward to meet her.
Despite her large size, Vongole dodged deftly through his legs as he leapt forward.
“Scheiße!”
When Klavier’s world came back into focus, he was greeted by his hallway’s ceiling and the sound of dog nails clacking on tiles getting further away with every moment. With the clarity of the ceiling above him, it seemed his glasses had quite impressively managed to stay on his face.
Vongole 37, Klavier 0.
Klavier pulled himself out of the crumple he was in, sitting on the floor and placing his back to his studio’s door.
This was probably the closest he’d gotten to his studio in months.
Klavier looked through the hallway. Vongole stood in the living room at the other end, his favourite mascara in her mouth.
He let out a groan, letting his head fall back against the door behind him.
As was the case for most nights since that trial, he’d been up late. And Vongole, without fail, was always hovering somewhere nearby, whether he wanted her to or not.
She was sitting now, head tilted. He thought he could see bite marks on the mascara tube’s lid. The music he'd put on for company leaked into the hallway from the living room.
He’d been sorting through a box Kristoph’s things prior to this whole incident. It probably wasn’t wise to be doing that at 2am, but he’d found his late and sleepless nights to be the only time he could bring himself to do it. During the day, it all felt too stark when he would inevitably pull out some inane object or trinket that triggered an old memory without his say so.
In the light, it was all so sharp and bright. During the night, things could be foggy and hazy. The pain and memories could be fuzzier and everything didn’t have to feel so real. Though he considered part of that effect may also just be the sleep deprivation.
Klavier always strode toward brightness, to the heart of things. A painful truth was always better than a false comfortable lie.
The truths that had been revealed were important and Klavier was glad to have uncovered them, but that wasn’t to say they hadn’t bleached him, torched their way through his life as he knew it. After everything that had happened, he allowed himself at least some respite to lie in the hazyness and darkness.
Klavier stared at the ceiling before closing his eyes
He’d received the letter 3 days after the trial.
Klavier had requested a short period of leave immediately following the trial’s conclusion. It was granted without comment or fanfare.
Klavier spent most of the first 3 days lying in bed. He didn’t feel much, if anything. Mostly blankness.
His large bedroom was dark for the most part. His framed Gavinners promotional material had been taken down off the walls and stored in the cupboard for the time being. It made the room feel even more cold and empty than it had normally. The various shades of purple and black in the room blended together into one large blob as his curtains remained closed.
Maybe he should get a rug or something, he thought as he stared at the tiled floor beside his bed.
After what was functionally three straight days of lying in bed, thinking he should make at least some attempt to feign normalcy, he made his way to his apartment's lobby to check his postbox.
Inside was a letter.
It was from Kristoph Gavin.
Klavier froze for what felt like a long time. At least part of his mind was working however, as he found himself back in front of the letterbox dressed, makeuped, wearing contacts and holding a plastic bag he'd gotten from his apartment. The letter had promptly been bagged before he'd driven to the police department at 2pm on a Friday, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white,
Finding Ema hadn't been too hard. She was hiding in the normally empty 3rd floor break room, avoiding work like normal. Klavier knew about her hiding spot, as she used it very often to avoid Klavier when they were on a case together. He’d pretended not to know about it until now, but he deemed his current matter urgent enough to break that illusion.
He could’ve asked the actual forensic team he supposed, it wasn’t like he didn’t have legitimate grounds for what he thought may be going on. If he was being honest however, he didn’t think he had it in him to deal with the proper channels at this moment in time. Best to just get ahold of his favourite unlicensed forensic detective.
He did his best to turn on his usual charm and keep up their regular back and forth when he cornered her in the break room, but even Ema seemed to notice something was off with Klavier. His appearance probably wasn’t helping matters. Klavier had done his best to follow his usual style and routines, but his panic was likely evident in the slightly more dishevelled than normal appearance he was sporting.
In the closest to what he could call sympathy he'd ever received from her, Ema tested the letter immediately without so much as a comment as to who it was from.
She tested the outside, looking through her glasses at him to obtain permission before opening the letter to test the contents. He nodded.
Everything was tested thoroughly.
Negative for antroquinine.
Also a negative for the various other tests Ema did. How she fit so many sprays, powders and other paraphernalia in her pockets and bag, he’d never know.
“Just a normal letter, fop”
“Danke schön, Fräulein Detective.”
Klavier turned to leave.
“Oh, and fop?”
“Hmm?”
“Give a call to Mr Wright’s office when you get a chance and tell them you’re fine. I’ve been bugged relentlessly since the trial finished and it's getting annoying.”
“Ah, I’ll be sure to to call them and let Fräulein Trucy know I’m doing well”
“And Apollo”
“And Appo- huh?”
“And Apollo. He’s been even more irritating than Trucy. He’s visited the prosecutors office and the precinct every morning since you’ve been on leave. It’s getting annoying”
“Oh” said Klavier.
“He asked me to text you and ask how you were, but I don’t have your number. So yeah, get in touch with him and Trucy or something.”
“Ja, I will. And again, danke schön. I truly did appreciate your help.”
She nodded.
“Just make sure you call your stupid little defence attorney, yeah? He’s…been worried.”
She turned and walked away, shoes clacking and a crunching sound starting up as she pulled a familiar snack bag out of her pocket.
Klavier left the precinct feeling a large tumble of emotions. Relief, at the lack of results from Ema’s test. Dread, as to what the letter contained. Floating above it all however, was a warmth that had started when Ema had mentioned Apollo was looking for him. That and the jump he’d felt when she’d said your little defence attorney.
There was a lot he needed to deal with, but just for a moment he decided to allow that to feeling float in his chest, letting at least some light in on this miserable day.
The letter contained 3 things.
A receipt for a storage unit that had been rented out for 6 months. The address and unit number was on the back.
The details of a dog kennel.
And a note.
Since I won’t be leaving here, these things need to be taken care of. I have already taken all that I considered of value that I was allowed to keep. Take care of these items as you see fit.
Kristoph Gavin
Very practical. Very Kristoph.
The receipt for the storage unit was self-evident enough. Most likely they were items from Kristoph’s office and home he’d arranged to be placed in storage. Kristoph had still had contact with the outside world via his letters following his initial arrest, something he’d evidently put to use.
He’d sent a few to Klavier while he was incarcerated. "Once I am released" was something he remembered reading in one of them. They were now stuffed at the back of a cupboard.
The address for the kennel was…unusual.
Unsure of what else to do, Klavier drove the 20 minutes over to the kennel. In retrospect, he thought it probably would've been wise to call first. Oh well.
He’d turned up to the kennel’s reception. There was a young woman at the desk. Various paw prints decorated the walls and floor. He could hear dogs barking in the back.
He was unsure how to approach the front desk.
Hallo, I’m here to pick up whatever item or animal my murderous incarcerated brother has left here for the last 6 months, danke schön!
Hmm, maybe a little too blunt. Though not unlike something Herr Forehead would say if he was in his shoes. The thought made him chuckle slightly.
Apollo had been floating in and out his thoughts a lot since he’d met him, so this wasn’t an unusual occurrence.
“Oh my god, you’re Klavier Gavin!”
It seemed he’d been recognised. He put on his best winning smile for the receptionist, striding forward and leaning on the reception desk in front of him.
“Hallo Fräulein, fancy seeing someone as pretty as you here.”
Not his strongest line by fair, but it had the intended effect. She gave a slight giggle, playing with her black hair as she blushed.
Fame had brought a lot of things for Klavier, some good, some bad. He’d always loved talking to fans however, no matter the context.
Remembering what he was actually here to do, he rattled his mind for how to word his next sentence.
“I believe I’m here on behalf of Kristoph Gavin?” His mouth felt dry as he said his brother’s name. “Ah, this might sound a little strange, but I received this address and a request to pick up what…whoever might be here.”
The receptionist snapped back to reality with a quick “Oh, sorry! One moment!” as she began to type what Klavier assumed was Kristoph’s name into the computer.
“Ah, it's right here! We received a request that she be released to you. You’re here to pick her up, correct?”
“Yes” he said, more confidently than he’d felt.
After he showed her his ID (“Sorry, just a formality! I know who you are of course…”) she disappeared into the back. The sounds of barking briefly became louder as the door opened before it shut behind her.
Klavier tapped rhythmically on the reception desk as he waited. After five minutes she returned with two things; a plastic bag and a leash. On said leash was the largest golden retriever Klavier had ever seen.
“Here she is, Mister Gavin. Go on, Vongole!”
Vongole did not move toward Klavier. In fact, she moved backwards, growling a little and hiding behind the receptionist.
Hmm.
Klavier crouched, reaching his hand to pet her, unsure of what else to do.
She nipped the ends of his fingers.
“Gah!”
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! ”
Klavier examined his hand. No blood drawn. His callouses meant he hadn’t even felt it really.
He put his smile back on. “Nein, no need to apologise Fräulein. Just a bit of a shock.”
“Sorry again” She looked bashful. “Anyway, please follow me and you can sign her out. Everything's already been paid for.”
Klavier signed the large golden retriever apparently known as Vongole out of the kennel before he was handed her leash and a bag containing a variety of toys.
Despite her skittish demeanour, Vongole allowed her leash to be handed over to Klavier without fuss.
“So…” he said, stepping out of the kennel looking down at the dog at the end of the leash he was holding. Vongole said nothing back, letting out a huff.
She walked well on a leash, at least that’s something that someone who owned a dog would say he thought.
When he opened the back door to his car, she hopped in with a practiced precision and lay down on the purple upholstered interior.
His car was going to be covered with yellow hair, he just knew it.
At least purple and yellow are complimentary colours I suppose.
Klavier climbed into his car that Ema had once referred to as “garishly bright”, and began to drive.
Kristoph had never mentioned a dog in any form. He had kept up with Kristoph much less in the last few years, at least outside of professional matters. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d visited Kristoph’s office, never mind his home. Which likely explained how he was unaware of the golden retriever in his backseat.
He glanced in his rear view mirror. Vongole sat quietly and what Klavier could almost describe as contemplative.
Just someone else who was caught up in Krisoph’s wave he supposed.
He pulled into his designated parking space in his apartment block. He turned round in the driver's seat to face Vongole. Her brown eyes stared at him warily.
He put a hand out toward her slowly, making no attempt to pet her this time.
She sniffed his hand. Then, gave the fingers she had bitten prior a small lick.
Klavier opened his eyes, greeted again by the ceiling. The tile of the hallway felt cold beneath him.
He heard clacking coming towards him again.
He looked up to see Vongole.
“Hallo girl. Looks like you won our little battle, ja? I’m afraid I’m too tired to fight back.”
She stared back with eyes that he would consider cute if he hadn’t seen them while locked in battle with her so many times.
Vongole moved closer, dropping a slobbery tube of mascara in his lap. He’d been correct. There were bite marks on the tube’s lid.
“...Danke, Vongole.”
Vongole lay down beside him.
Klavier put his hand slowly on Vongole’s back. She let out a relaxed huff, allowing Klavier to pet her.
Vongole being happy to allow Klavier to pet her was quite a recent development, all things considered. She’d tolerated his touches upon the first month of being in his apartment, but it was only after then when she’d seemingly enjoyed them.
He scratched behind her ear. Vongole leaned into his hand. He could still hear his music drifting from the living room.
When he’d first brought Vongole to his apartment, she’d been incredibly skittish. She was seemingly both afraid of him and constantly wanting to be near him. She’d allow his touch, but would still shy away somewhat as he did so. Klavier still tended to move slowly when touching her out of habit, as moving too quick in the early days of her stay with Klavier had led to her growling. There'd never been a repeat of the initial nip she'd given him however.
He'd made sure to only touch her nessessary. Vongole had seemed to appreciate the space, slowly allowing Klavier more liberties when touching her.
Even before they'd reach that point however, Vongole seemed to sync herself to Klavier’s routine. Whenever Klavier was up and about, which was very often with his lack of sleep, Vongole was always nearby. The first month, she’d simply been observing, watching.
The feeling of being watched wasn’t new. He’d been a celebrity since seventeen, and eyes were always on him no matter who he was facing off in court. Though, Herr Forehead’s stares were definitely what he’d call a step up in terms of intensity, which was quite impressive considering how many times he’d been stared at in his life.
Herr Forehead always looked adorable when he was so focused like that.
Klavier had gotten used to her very quickly. He assumed that was simply how she was.
How wrong he’d been.
Chewed furniture, shoes and most recently makeup were on Vongole’s growing list of things she enjoyed ruining that belonged to Klavier. Vongole seemed trained, if her daily evening walks were to be believed. Vongole never pulled on her leash, but no amount of yelling commands seemed to stop Vongole when she had something in her mouth. He’d been through every variant of “drop it!” he could think of in both german and english, with little effect.
He’d have pulled the items from her mouth if he could ever catch her.
Vongole’s toys littered the apartment, both ones he’d received upon picking her up and new ones he’d bought her, all untouched in favour of his favourite slippers.
Klavier had tried various other commands too, outside of her chaos bouts. Sit, stay, roll over, everything he could think of (other than play dead) in both english and german. Nothing seemed to yield any effect, just a tilted head and big brown eyes.
No matter what though, wherever Klavier was, Vongole was there too like a shadow. And always intent on exercising her chaos at the worst of times. Doing little extra work he’d brought home with him? Chaos. Some justified wallowing time? Chaos. Her favourite time to interrupt him was his late night sortings of Kristoph’s items. That was what had led to tonight's showdown.
Despite the chaos, Klavier was in an odd way, thankful for the company.
It may have been bothersome, but it was also consistent. Something Klavier had seen little of lately, as everyone in his life seemed intent on revealing hidden sides that turned his world upside down.
“You’re not a murderer, are you Vongole? Nein, simply a nervensägeI I believe .”
Vongole’s ear twitched upon hearing her name.
Still, he doubted his home and sanity could survive much more of Vongole’s personal brand of chaos.
Vongole had moved closer to him as he’d been absentmindedly petting her, moving her head to rest on his lap. Klavier felt himself smile, pushing his glasses up his face as he ruffled Vongole’s fur.
He also realised the perfect trio of Vongole’s size, weight and position were pinning him to the floor.
Ah.
Klavier was unsure of the time, but if he had to guess, it was likely around 3am.
It’d be morning soon enough.
True, the light brought things into sharp focus and made Klavier unable to look away from them. But the light didn’t always bring things that were so harsh.
Tomorrow, or today he supposed, was Wednesday, which meant that like clockwork, Apollo would be visiting his office in the morning.
Despite himself, Klavier felt sleep taking him on the floor of his hallway, his hand tangled in Vongole’s fur as he felt his eyes drift shut. The last thing he heard was Vongole’s breathing slowing beside him.