Hi guys! This is my first fanfic EVER so I can't promise it'll be that good (though I really hope people like it). My summer is going to be very boring so I'll have plenty of time to update (barring any change in my situation), soooo if any of you end up liking this story you shouldn't have to wait huge periods of time between chapters.

This is more of an intro chapter. I didn't know how to end it so if the ending seems kinda blah that's why. Things should start picking up in the next few chapters, both in terms of Ema and Klavier's relationship and drama-wise.

Thanks for reading and feel free to leave any constructive criticisms/reviews :)

Enjoy!

Preliminary observations indicate the cause of death to be blunt trauma to the back of the head. No murder weapon appears to be left at the scene, though given the large and deep contusion it would seem that the weapon was something of a larger scale. No splinters of wood are present in the wound, so that rules out any wooden objects. Without any more evidence to clearly indicate what the weapon was, at this time my guess would be something metal, perhaps.

The severity of the wound suggests the assailant is someone of strong stature.

Bruises are present on the victims arms, shaped like hands, indicating a possible struggle in which the assailant gripped the victim. The glass coffee table is shattered and ceramic plates appear to have been thrown against a wall, furthering my suspicion of a struggle.

Victim is a young woman, mid-20s, of a thin and tall stature. No identification found in her apartment. Must ask the super the name of victim.

The neighbor across the hall, a manic old woman (read: annoying and prone to long-winded ramblings), claims to have seen the building's doorman leave the victim's apartment last night. Apparently a loud noise from across the hall prompted her to look through her door's peephole, at which time she saw "that whippersnapper that tries to pass off as a doorman sneak out of the door like some crazy hooligan; mind you she would never have seen such a punk hired as a doorman back in her day…sophisticated women such as herself except a higher standard to be upheld in her place of living." Other detectives took note of the rest of her ramblings, however they were rather irrelevant. The statement noted above is only relevant in the sense that the doorman always dresses informally and tends to wander off after women, leaving his post unattended. Doorman was dragged off by detectives for questioning, hysterically crying "NOT AGAAAAINNNN. I'M TELLIN' YA MAN, I DIDN'T DO NOTHIN'!"

Detective Ema Skye clicked off the recording button on her hand-held recorder, annoyed that her verbal notes were interrupted by a loud snort from the doorway of the crime scene. Even though she wasn't particularly fond of her job, she was incredibly meticulous and accepted nothing short of perfection. Everyone at the office new she liked complete science during her initial investigating, especially when she recorded her notes, and they were all far too scared of her to so openly laugh. From this she deduced her intruder was, unfortunately for her, her smug, narcissistic, son-of-a-bitch boss.

"Can I help you, fop?" she grunted, not even bothering to look in his general direction. Ema preferred her investigations to be fop-free; the annoyance that inevitably came from him watching her work hindered her productivity.

"No, fraulein, just admiring your colorful impersonations of the witness and suspect. Perhaps you should have pursued a career in voice acting, rather than detective work."

"And perhaps you should have kept the hell away from my crime scene until I was finished, yet here you are." Klavier Gavin laughed at the sarcasm dripping from her every word. She seemed to be particularly grumpy today.

"Ah I do love your biting wit, fraulein. However I just stopped by to inform you that we have been called back to the precinct for a press conference. Evidently our victim is somewhat important and word got out of her murder. Perhaps you should include some of your impressions in your statement, the crowd would just love it, ja?" He could practically see the steam shooting out of her ears at his teasing. Just before he turned to leave, he felt something smack him in his forehead.

*KA-TONK*

"Fraulein Detective, did you just 'snackoo' me?" he chuckled, thoroughly amused by her clear annoyance at him.

"Scientifically, you should be thankful that's all I did."

Ema tossed her bag on the ottoman in her foyer, slamming her front door behind her in a huff. Today had been particularly trying for the detective; even after the press conference she hadn't managed to shake Klavier and ended up being stuck with him for the rest of the day. That naturally meant she stress ate through two and a half bags of snackoos while he relentlessly teased her about just about everything.

The revelation that the victim was Eliana Anaile, business mogul and public figure, made the case one of high priority. She had been running around like crazy since she got to the office that morning at 7:00 AM until she just now, at 10:00 PM, walked through her front door. 15 hours with the fop was enough to drive her insane, or at least give her a massive tension headache.

Her small, cozy home felt like a heavenly sanctuary in that moment. The familiar lavender scent of her plug-in fragrance enveloped her in a comforting hug, immediately putting her at ease. It had been her childhood home, back when her parents were still alive. When they passed away, her older sister Lana had moved them into a small apartment in the city; ultimately the expenses of keeping up the home had been too much for Lana, then 23 years old and just beginning her career.

After a few years on the job as a detective, Ema bought back the house and moved in, desperate to feel close to her parents once again. Coming home to the memory of her parents was often the best part of her day; though living alone was rather lonely for her, she was used to being on her own after living abroad in Europe for a number of years. Besides, Lana visited frequently and she felt like the spirit of her parents surrounded her in every room.

Ema poured herself a glass of red wine, curling up on her couch and turning on a dvd of her favorite television comedy. The warm feeling from the wine and laugher was enough to relax her after such an agonizing day. In fact, she was so relaxed she fell asleep on the couch, alarm not set and front door unlocked.