Damn, but I heart this pairing so much. And I couldn't even get them together, damnit. General spoiler alert for throughout AJ: AA. And to make the whole premise of this fic work (because it snuck up and beat me over the head 'til I had to write it) I gave Apollo a talent he didn't have in the game. Read on to find out?

(And I apologise for the use of OCs as Klavier's other bandmates. But it was the only way this would work!)

Disclaimer : yeah, I no own. Klavier might be a kinky bastard (I can totally see that) but I don't think he's into slavery.

Don't know when this will be continued- but with the way my writing is at the moment, I would have to say more likely not for a while.


Apollo stopped dead in the doorway to the prosecutor's office. He was used to the array of guitars lining the walls... but was that a drum kit in the corner?

The German he'd come to see looked up from where he was deep in conversation with two vaguely familiar men. "Herr Forehead!" He fiddled with his fringe, a sign that he was thinking hard. "Not that it won't be a pleasure, I'm sure, but why have you come to see me?"

The defence attorney blinked. "You- I- I came to bring you the paperwork for the case we just finished?"

He wasn't sure what annoyed him more; that Gavin had apparently forgotten asking him over, or his stutter.

Klavier frowned. "The paperwork... ah! Danke, Herr Forehead." He took the proffered files, glanced at the first page and tossed them carelessly onto the already crowded desk.

One of his companions snorted. "That's the guy you've been-" Klavier glared, and the speaker rolled his eyes, "Going up against in court? And losing to?" One of his hands idly plucked at an electric bass resting at his feet. It created a low humming sound that had been bugging Apollo since he entered the office. D, he absently noted.

Apollo figured opening his mouth just then would be a bad idea. Unfortunately, he did it anyway. "Hey! It's not a matter of who wins or loses when we're in court! It's a matter of the truth!"

A dark laugh was heard, and Apollo turned to the corner it came from. A third unknown- but still familiar- man was seated behind the drum kit that he'd missed earlier. "Yeah, we've seen first-hand how much you care about the truth, little attorney, even to the exclusion of all else. Ever heard of that underrated personality quirk called loyalty?"

"Jem," Klavier hissed, followed by a brutal-sounding torrent of German. The other man replied just as fluently, and judging by the interested looks on the faces of the remaining two men, Apollo resigned himself to being the only one who didn't know what was being said.

Jem suddenly broke off laughing, and reverted to English. "You're telling me this guy's put away you brother and your best friend, and you don't feel a shred of animosity for him? Damn, but you've got the forgiveness of a saint. I know I'm watching my back, just in case he decides to go after any more of your friends-"

Apollo broke in sweetly, beyond annoyed. "So if you don't commit a crime, we'll have no problems, will we?"

One of the men on the couch made to get up, only to be restrained by the other. When this person turned back, Apollo gasped out loud. There was the eyes, the nose, even a hint in the mouth-

"I'm Damien Crescend, Daryan's less-famous older brother. Also the keyboardist for the Gavinners, and attached to the 31st precinct in New York." He smirked, not unkindly. "And you look like you've just seen a ghost, little attorney."

Why are there always brothers?

Apollo coughed. "In a manner of speaking, Mr Crescend," he managed to say.

"Ah!" The outburst was Klavier's. "That is why you looked so strangely at me in the park, ja? When we first met?" Did the prosecutor look... disappointed?

"Just so, Prosecutor Gavin," he agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll see myself out."

He'd worked out for himself who the other two men were: Jeremiah Whistle, drummer, and half-Italian Valentino Corde, bassist; the remaining four Gavinners. He must have been interrupting a band meeting.

"Not so fast!" Valentino finally stopped plucking idly at the bass by his foot, and gestured him back over. "We have a problem, see."

"And judging by your show back in July, they," Valentino coughed slightly. Jeremiah glared a little. "Fine, we think you can help us," the drummer amended.

Apollo raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Klavier, who had a 'we? What we?' look on his face. Point taken, (because he did somewhat trust the prosecutor, even in court) he smiled his professional best. "I'm afraid if you require my services, you'll have to make an appointment. Good day."

He was called back this time by Damien. "Wait! It's nothing like that; we don't have a legal problem. We just need a... a fresh ear, you might say."

"Ear..." Apollo trailed off. "You want me to listen to you play?"

"The performance doesn't sound right," the keyboardist continued. "And since you're here, you might as well have a shot at the reason why. You did okay with the recordings back then."

He should flat-out refuse.

"But I could replay them as I needed to," He countered. "Hearing it live would be another matter altogether."

Though hardly a problem, all the same. Even if they didn't realise it.

"At least give it a try, please?" Damien all but begged the attorney. "Just one?"

When your hearing's pitch-perfect, one is all you need.

He made the mistake of looking at the Prosecutor for help. Klavier had an intrigued look on his face that made Apollo's competitive side rear its head. "... Fine." At Damien's massive grin, he hurriedly qualified, "Just once, though, okay?"

It wasn't like he'd need a second go, anyway.

The Gavinners immediately jumped into action. Jeremiah was hitting a basic AC/DC 4-beat on his drums, Valentino began switching between the beloved D and the F natural above it. Damien sat and smiled from where he was, lazily holding up a remote in one hand. "It was either the drum kit or the keyboard," He explained. "These philistines chose the drums, and I'm stuck with bringing recordings. Should be coming in, in one, two, three- now!" He clicked the remote: two chords, an A minor seventh melding into D major, introduced an almost jazz-like piano solo.

Apollo closed his eyes and cocked his head, but he couldn't hear anything out of place. Every note was pitched perfectly, harmonious for the most part with a few apparently deliberate discords (they appeared regularly enough to be counted as deliberate, in any case). He tuned out those three parts, waiting for Klavier and his guitar to come in.

He counted two more bars before the strings began. And although Klavier's playing was always a pleasure to listen to, within four bars more, he'd identified it as the source of the problem.

Rhythm's fine, fits in with the rest of the parts. Must be pitch then.

He concentrated a bit more. D, G, A flat, hold, A flat again, E flat to D... rinse and repeat. Minor variation, sub B for G and D for F...

He had it. Or at least, he had a guess; even if he was wrong, he'd be out of there all the sooner. He'd need to test it himself to be sure. Apollo opened his eyes and found that in the course of his listening, he'd gravitated towards the guitar and its player. Klavier's eyes were on him, watching him.

He turned away and coughed gently. "Ah- I think I've got it."

Playing stopped immediately. Valentino was impassive, Jeremiah incredulous; even Damien looked a bit disbelieving.

The drummer snorted. "You think? After just a minute? After replaying the concert performance how many times?"

... So maybe he'd acted the part of musical dunce back then a little too well.

"Yes, I think," the attorney bit out. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Honestly? No," the drummer replied, animosity plain. "I figure it's a waste of time."

"Where's the problem then?" Damien cut in hurriedly, before Apollo could respond.

With a final glare, Apollo turned back to Klavier. "It's the guitar." He gestured with his right hand. "If I could..?"

A few eyebrows were raised across the room. "You play?" Valentino asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

Apollo ignored the question, standing still with his right hand still out. His foot started tapping in annoyance when nobody moved.

He couldn't ignore the drummer's half-muttered comment of, "Of course he doesn't. He's probably making it up as he goes along, hoping to get lucky."

Apollo's temper ratcheted up the final notch. "Give me the guitar," he ordered the surprised looking German, who obeyed probably more out of instinct than anything else. The attorney quickly adjusted the strap and took the pick when it was held out to him. Ignoring the other four, he ran up and down a scale before playing a short section from Dire Straits.

If Klavier had looked surprised before, it was nothing to how he looked now.

Apollo finally looked up. "Your A string's tuned a semitone too low." He pulled off the guitar and tossed it back at the prosecutor. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to be getting on with at my office."

Klavier barely caught the guitar in time. He stared, completely flabbergasted, at the attorney walking out of the door, and then at his band mates.

The door slammed, and it was like a switch had been flicked, personality-wise.

Damien was the first to break. He chuckled, cracked his knuckles and said, "Well. You didn't tell us your little crush is also a musician. I approve!"

"I'd bet our German front man didn't know," Jem picked up the trail of conversation from his corner. "Does it make you wonder what else you can discover about him, Klavier?"

Klavier said nothing, but the remaining Gavinners laughed when a hint of red reached his cheekbones.

"You know," Valentino mused, "He's the first crush of yours we've met who actually passed our test." The bassist sighed. "And I was all prepared to dislike him, too."

Klavier blinked. "You did this to every person I've gone out with?" His band mates grinned unrepentantly back at him. "Sheisse, no wonder nobody lasted more than two months after meeting you!" His voice became more indignant, if possible. "And just when did you detune my guitar?"

"You'll always be the youngest here, Klavier." Damien smiled at him, ignoring the last bit. "Aren't you glad we're looking out for you? Oh, and by the way: Mr Justice? Totally oblivious. If you took him out to dinner he'd probably think it was for a case."

"He did," Klavier muttered, knowing it would set them off again. "He just looked confused when I asked him what he was doing outside of work."

"Don't worry, Klavier! You've got us to help you now. We've still got a week until we all leave!" Damien said brightly. Jem and Valentino looked less enthusiastic, but resigned.

Klavier glared at Damien. "You're right. I'm not worrying anymore. I'm terrified!"

... Should there be a crack! warning on this? I wasn't sure...

Pitch-perfect hearing is somewhat rare- it's basically the ability to listen to a musical note and just know the pitch it's played at. If there's anything more technical than that, I'm clueless, but I liked the idea of Apollo out-musicking the chief musician of the series. And thus this was born.

Let me know what you think?