"I want to set the record straight, before anything cruel is said – Lia and I were certainly in love once, but that was a long time ago. We tried again, but it did not work. I hope that she and this young actor can be happy in the way that we once were. I will not be speaking again on the subject, and request that you respect the privacy of both myself and Lia, whom I still consider a dear friend."

Ema was in her pyjamas when she watched it, having received a text from Phoenix (which had awoken her) informing her that she should be watching channel six. She stared, not quite believing that this was actually happening.

The reporters had started to ask questions, but Klavier had replaced his sunglasses and was holding a hand up – no, he would not be responding.

The report shifted to images from the party last night – Lia quite clearly flirting with the guy from Samurai Hunter or whatever it was, him about to kiss her, them leaving together...

It'd actually happened. Klavier had managed to get out of this sham relationship.

And he'd come out clean.

She had to stop herself from dancing around her apartment – she really didn't have time, she had to get ready for work. She satisfied herself by having a definite spring in her step as she went from room to room, trying to focus on getting ready for work.

A part of her – small, but definitely there – felt almost bad for Lia. She had known nothing of this – but, then again, she had sprung everything on Klavier with little more than a word. It wasn't as if the woman was an innocent party – she had blackmailed Klavier into a false relationship, after all. And if the press were to be believed it wasn't as if she was alone.

Klavier had told her that all Lia really wanted was fame, and he'd given her that. She'd have that in spades.

Sometimes, when your world changes completely, you can't help but expect the rest of the world to have changed too. It's strange that other people are unaffected by something which thunders through you and alters everything.

The precinct was buzzing with the news – poor Klavier, but he seemed to be bearing up well, from what one person had heard it was over before it had begun.

That person was remarkably right, although he would probably never know it.

Ema breezed through, given new tidbits of information as she passed – "I heard he walked in on them."

"Apparently this Olivier guy wasn't the first."

"He couldn't trust her, that's the worst part."

"They never looked right together."

She nodded sagely in response, commenting that she was sure he'd pull through – he had been through a lot worse.

They had to concede that.

It was a dull day, work-wise – filling in the paperwork as to why, exactly, Juno was guilty. It was a little like a court on paper – writing out the evidence, mentioning any potential areas of doubt. There were very few here, helped by the signed confession – the only area was Guinevair cleaning the shop, but she wrote this away with his own (admittedly fairly pathetic) reason, that he had acted on autopilot, in shock, not really thinking.

They had admitted worse reasons previously, certainly.

A boring day, though – nothing calling her to a crime scene.

And nothing from Klavier. That was the kicker. She knew that he had a lot to deal with – probably phone calls from his PR guy, or most of the media descending upon him.

She knew it didn't really matter. It was, really, Friday that mattered – an actual, proper date.

The phone call from Lia was the one he had been dreading, but here it was – her name, flashing on the screen, in time to Guilty Love.

"Hi, Lia."

"Klavier. I...I don't know whether to thank you, or..."

"Or curse me."

"That crossed my mind."

"You said you wanted fame – I think I've helped you gain that."

She laughed. "Well, yes. I'm...impressed, I think. I didn't think you'd have it in you. Artfully played." There was a resignation in her voice, and she sighed. "I don't think I'll do this kind of thing again. It's not very me. I don't think I'm much good at it."

"You did well to control me for so long."

She laughed again. "I had you for about a week! Less! No, no, I don't think I'll try emotional blackmail again..."

"You're remarkably friendly, considering..." Klavier commented, somewhere between bemused and confused.

"Well...what's being angry with you going to achieve? You were – are – civil to me. It's only right to offer you the same courtesy."

Klavier smiled slightly – there was, somewhere, something of the girl he had once loved. "Is there any truth to the rumours of you and Olivier trying a relationship?"

"I'm happy to pursue things with him...He seemed to be happy to try something..."

"So you'll still have a famous boyfriend?"

"Here's hoping."

"And you're in the papers."

"Mmm, I'm booked to go on a few talk shows next week. It's a start."

"And the novel?"

She burst out laughing. "Oh, please, Klavier, as if the novel exists. I'm trying to find a suitable ghost-writer. I should have more luck now."

Klavier shook his head. "I hope that goes well for you."

"Klavier?"

"Ja?"

"Promise me you'll do something about this girl detective of yours. I don't think you would've co-operated with me for any other girl."

Klavier considered pointing out that she'd never had the opportunity for another girl, but this in itself was giving her ammunition. "I promise, Lia. I hope you get what you want."

"No, you hope I get what I deserve." She laughed. "Take care, Klavier, I'm sorry if I – "

"No, you're not." Klavier interrupted drily.

"...you're right, I'm not, not really. But I mean it, Klavier, take care, and don't let this girl go."

"I have no intention of letting that happen." Klavier smiled, meaning every word. He was answered with dial tone.

No phone call.

No text message.

Not even a carrier pigeon or smoke signal or anything like that.

Was she being selfish? Wanting to at least hear from him?

Probably. Ema trudged up the stairs to her apartment. She may have told herself that it was Friday that mattered, but today mattered, too, maybe more. She had still expected something to happen, but no. A boring, dull day – it didn't even have the individuality to be a bad day, it was simply a boring day. Where nothing had happened.

Everything should've happened.

She got to her floor, turning through the door. Could she hear –

"Ema." Klavier Gavin, an acoustic guitar on a purple strap across his chest, and a warm, relieved smile on his lips. "I was going to try and get into your apartment, but I was unable to – I thought breaking and entering would be a little..."

"Violent." Ema finished.

"Excessive." He tipped his head. "But if you have the keys..."

She smiled, finding them in her bag. "Here." She opened the door, letting them both in.

He glanced around her meagre apartment – one large living room with an open plan kitchen, two doors leading off presumably to bedroom and bathroom. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it seemed tiny.

She noted this, blushing lightly as she removed her labcoat. "Well, you control my salary..." She pointed out, smiling. "It's your fault I can't afford better."

He smirked, removing his guitar and sitting on the sofa. "But if we're in a relationship, me putting you forward for a raise..."

She sighed. "Well, if you can't do it, you may as well leave now..." She sat down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "So. You planned to serenade me?"

"That was my intention." His arm snaked around her waist. "And to take you out somewhere quiet for dinner, somewhere where they know the meaning of privacy."

"Your plan has changed?" She snuggled against him, stretching an arm across his chest.

He kept one hand on his guitar, but he nodded. "Ja."

"And what is your plan now?"

"To relax here with you, possibly playing you one of the songs I have written later on."

"Mmm, that sounds good." She lifted her legs onto the sofa, curling further into Klavier – it was remarkable, the way that a boring day could sometimes take more of a toll on you than an exciting one. She could feel her eyes closing. How embarrassing, to fall asleep on a first date – was this a first date? Or was that still Friday?

Klavier moved his guitar to the coffee table, taking as much care as possible not to move Ema. He kicked off his shoes, briefly considering curling his legs onto the sofa beside him. It wasn't the most comfortable position he'd ever been in, but he was perfectly happy in it. He moved his hand to her hair, loosing the tie and running his fingers through it. It was pleasingly soft.

"I am still awake, you know." She murmured into his chest.

"Barely." He smiled. "If we are going to sleep together – "

"Ha. Ha. Ha." She interrupted drily.

"I'm not in a brilliant position."

"Yes, well..." She reluctantly sat up. "Go on."

He reclined against the arm of the sofa, stretching his body out and tugging Ema into his arms. She happily lay across him, resting her head and a hand against his chest. "Better?" She asked softly.

"Much." He replied, his arms around her, one hand toying with her hair.

He hadn't ever felt more comfortable.