I was given a list of prompts with the challenge to write 100 drabbles, each no more than 600 words long. I chose to do things a little differently: instead of one pairing, I'm writing for four of my favorite ones, and attempting to make all the drabbles interconnected and chronological. I'm also picking them at random - shuffled up all the prompt words in a box to make sure. (This is why each chapter has a random number in parentheses as well.)

The summary/title may change as the fic evolves, depending on where the prompts guide me. I have a general idea but can't get too specific for obvious reasons. Also, updates will probably be slow, as I'm cycling my drabbles through each pairing as well as not doing this every day. I'm posting each as a separate story for ease of reading, but they're all in a series if you feel inclined to check the others.


"How many times do I have to tell you," Ema snarled, waving the latest crumpled-up poster in his face, "I don't want your stinking autographed poster!"

Klavier blinked.

"You know, Fraulein Detective," he purred, his surprise vanishing in a moment. A slow smirk widened across his lips as he leaned in: "I'd be happy to sign anything you want me to."

He didn't emphasize 'anything' in a sleazy way – if anything, the innuendo was less pointed than the deliberate misunderstanding. They hadn't been working together very long, but that seemed to be a constant feature: Klavier always acted like she was being friendly with him, even when she was openly insulting him. It was like he thought her anger was all a shared joke. Sometimes, like now, he'd even tip her a wink after his latest reframing, a smug little see what I did there? gesture that made Ema fantasize about strangling him.

"Great!" she smiled falsely. "I have a resignation letter I'd love for you to sign for me."

Klavier actually laughed. A nice, hearty chuckle, complete with a fond head-shake and warm smile at the end.

"Ahh," he sighed once he was done. "If only it were so easy, ja?"

Ema ground her teeth.

"Listen," she seethed, trying her hardest to remain professional. "I'm kind of busy already with your bullshit investigation, so I'd appreciate if you'd st–"

"Why do you think this is a bullshit investigation?" he interrupted. Ema stiffened up, clamping her mouth shut, but it was too late. Klavier was frowning at her, entirely intent now.

When she didn't reply immediately, the furrow between his eyebrows deepened.

"You do know that I value your opinion," he said, softly.

Ema stood very still.

"Fraulein – Ms. Skye." Klavier leaned in again, voice unforgivably gentle. "I know you're new to this, and I'm not – but we're both young, and I think, talented. If you have a concern, I'll listen."

God, she hated him.

He always got her wrong. Without fail, he seemed to think she was someone else, someone who willingly bantered with him, who enjoyed her work, who believed in the system she was a part of. He wasn't the only prosecutor she worked with, but definitely her most frequent partner, and he seemed to think they made a good pair, that they actually worked well together somehow. He apparently thought she looked up to him, or some bullshit. Thought she doubted her own abilites, that she'd ever want or welcome this sort of pep-talk.

Sure, she was new. But she wasn't insecure, not about this – she was just bitter, too jaded by the clear downfall she'd seen in the legal system to ever think her concerns would make any practical difference. Klavier saying he'd listen didn't mean he actually would.

"….The security photos," Ema admitted, not really expecting anything. "That silhouette doesn't look like our man. Too short and thin, and that's hard to fake."

"Show me," he said though, simple and unexpectedly serious. "Let's review them together with the other evidence this afternoon. If we've been wrong, we'll need to find the true culprit quickly before they skip town."

"Oh," she couldn't quite help saying. "Um, okay."

Klavier looked at her in that fond way again.

"It's a date, then," he grinned, right back to being infuriating. "You like your coffee sweet, I expect?"


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