170 Candy Man

A/N: By the power of Gray Skull! Almost 1500 reviews, and over 100K VIEWS later, I can’t believe I can say – Happy 2nd Birthday, Turnabout Everlasting! I celebrate with this short but sweet chapter that continues the SkyeFop arc … look for the following one to be up by this weekend/early next week. I love you guys so much for still being with me on this crazy train, but also for your support for SkyeFop last chapter! They’re going into my OTP books! 😊

Certainly, the most destructive vice if you like, that a person can have. More than pride, which is supposedly the number one of the cardinal sins – is self-pity. Self-pity is the worst possible emotion anyone can have. And the most destructive. Hatred is a subset of self-pity and not the other way around. It destroys everything around it, except itself.

Self-pity will destroy relationships, it’ll destroy anything good, and will fulfill all the prophecies it makes, and leave only itself. And it’s so simple to imagine that one is hard done by, and that things are unfair, and that one is underappreciated, and that if only one had had a chance at this, only one had had a chance at that, things would have gone better, you would be happier if only this, that one is unlucky. All those things. And some of them may well even be true. But, to pity oneself as a result of them is to do oneself an enormous disservice.  

And it sounds like ‘Oh that’s so simple, because it’s not simple to stop feeling sorry for yourself, it’s bloody hard.’ Because we do feel sorry for ourselves, it’s what Genesis is all about.

~Stephen Fry~

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Klavier Gavin
The Surly Wench Pub
July 11, 2026, 11:55 PM

Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles. Ice clinked against the glass, and sizzled in contact with the warm air that flushed the faces of the bartender and the assortment of people perched on bar stools before him. The atmosphere was the buzz of happily chugging, chattering patrons, and loud bouts of surrounding laughter. At the main bar, glasses of various spirits slid across the wood top for exchanges of money, with the occasional grumbling about the high prices of the booze in the very same, admittedly overpriced tavern.

It was this very pub that Klavier had brought once certain grumpy female detective for her birthday. Naturally, being currently present in the said establishment was doing nothing to banish the object of his unrequited affections from his torturous reflections, and could only be chalked up to a moment of nothing less than mindless masochism.

The prosecutor, dressed all in black and wearing a hat to hide this noticeable golden mane in an attempt to be inconspicuous, drowned his sorrows in the elixir at a single table in a corner of the bar. He watched impassively as a young couple flirted shamelessly at the other end of the room, each with nectar in hand, making him smirk knowingly as he observed their antics.

The comely, buxom barfly, who was presently batting her eyelashes at a sandy-haired young man with a slicked back ‘do, had attempted her feminine wiles on Klavier earlier that evening. However, the green-eyed brunette was too much of a scantily dressed, overly made-up version of a certain female police officer for the blond’s liking. She’d proceeded to stalk off in a huff when he’d politely revoked her coquetry, blithely moving on to her next attempted conquest of the night.

Her second attempt appeared to be going quite swimmingly, based on their body language – his hand on her arm and the toe of her pump caressing his leg.

The former singer chuckled as he observed that the ever-eager, sycophantic Gatewater Hotel bellboy, still in his tell-tale cream-colored uniform, seemed to have zero objections to being serviced, instead of vice versa!

Perhaps they’ll have a role reversal tomorrow morning, and he’ll offer to bring her tea and breakfast in bed? Klavier thought wryly. Well, good for them! Cheers to good sex! A tribute like this needs to be done in both English and German, even if no one else hears it!

The German silently raised his ale in a mock salute at the now wildly necking duo.

Prost! Zu großem Geschlechtsverkehr! He cheerlessly toasted his previous castoff and downed the rest of his beer in one swig. At the very least, may he warm your loins to your heart’s content tonight, schöne Frau! At the very most, may Herr Mann be the lifelong Beischlaf of your dreams!

Dreams…

The last word of his lighthearted musings made all traces of humor vanish in the next instant, leaving a queasiness in his stomach which had naught to do with the four mugs he’d downed already.

“Please consider me a dream.”

Klavier shut his eyes against the mortifying memories of the previous night, as his lovesick, sozzled ramblings came flooding back to him.

As much as he’d wished to drink to the point of blacking out yesterday, unfortunately, his high alcohol tolerance wouldn’t allow it. Ergo, he could remember every single pitiable, undoubtedly desperate-sounding declaration he’d uttered to his subordinate, who up until that night, had made it glaringly clear she did nothing more than tolerate him.

“I like you too damned much!” He whispered fervently, then tried to pull her in for a kiss.

There was no question about why he’d wanted to kiss her – because she was beautiful. Hers was the best type of beauty; the fresh-faced, understated, natural variety, while completely unaware of her own pulchritude kind of beautiful. Moreover, she was the perfect blend of razor-sharp wit and intelligence. Spirited, yet sweet. Funny and had a great sense of humor. Tough, but fair. All the beguiling qualities that would allow him to take a long journey with her by his side, knowing he would never suffer even a moment of boredom. Everything he’d never even known he’d always wanted.

Recalling her mild but consistent resistance to his overly amorous advances, shame washed over him in sickening waves as he pondered what he’d be facing when forced to endure her inevitable reaction to the humiliating incident.

How could he have unleashed so much ardor on a woman who could barely abide him? She’d clearly only been indulging him due to his pitiful, woeful state, which stemmed from nothing more than polite kindness, which in his inebriated state, he’d pathetically mistaken for genuine affection.

Klavier truly didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look her in the eye again after this.

As lame as it was to admit, avoiding Ema had been a huge part of the reason he’d called sick into work that day. The other factor, naturally, had been the delirium tremens he’d faced when he’d awoken. Looking at his reflection in the mirror had been a nightmarish experience,  the mirror showing his eyes were no longer those of sparkling blue but a trellis of pink over the white and beleaguered face only a mother could love.

I woke up this morning feeling like a slowly inflating tire was beneath my skull, the pressure mounting, making my cranium feel like it was about to be split open. My throat was like the Sahara, and nothing seemed to slake my unquenchable thirst. I understood at once why it’s called a hangover, for it was like the darkest of storm clouds hanging over your skull, without a prayer of dissipating anytime soon.  I remember splashing cold water in hopes it would feel revitalizing, but really wished I could rinse away the toxins in my brain too, along with these agonizing memories.  Ha! If only I could be so lucky…

He realized the prudent thing to do would have been to take the hint when she’d protested how polemic his actions were. Regardless of Ema’s aversion to him, she’d still been genteel enough to try to appeal to his non-existent rationale. Despite how unbearable she found him, she’d still been too polite to make her repulsion palpable, and instead reminded him that he was her boss! Moreover, she’d hastily added, as though she’d needed any further excuses to protest, that he was intoxicated and that none of this was right.

He should have taken heed and respected her wishes when she’d asked him to let her go. Instead, like a hopelessly besotted schoolboy, he’d proceeded to put his heart on his sleeve even further!

“I’ve tried a hundred times to let you go, and get you out of my mind, Ema Skye, but I can’t. Believe me, I want to more than anything in the world, but I just can’t.”

Propping his elbows up onto the table, Klavier groaned and buried his head in his hands.

In light of what had happened with Ema last night, ignominy had temporarily replaced his compounding despondency about both Daryan and Kristoph tenfold! Embarrassment wasn’t an emotion, it was a weapon wielded without a trace of pity.

And what else could Ema Skye, who despised him, have felt for him but a sense of charity? Surely there was no other explanation whatsoever to have even momentarily allowed him to embrace her, never mind pliantly lain in his arms for those long, glorious moments, leading him to believe she was as swept away as he had been!

I’d rather she hate me than feel pathos for me! He lamented, rubbing his eyes.  At least that way I’d be able to keep my dignity, which is all I had left! Better an honest enemy than a false friend, ja? Slap me with the truth rather than kiss me with a lie? Her abhorrent disdain would have been largely preferable to knowing she was merely stomaching me and allowing me to take such liberties – all just because she felt sorry for me!

He honestly wished Ema had just given him a five across the eyes for his actions and been done with it! Yes, such a deed would have left him undeniably red-faced (also, perhaps, given that she was such a spitfire, temporarily cross-eyed!) nonetheless, at least it would have brought things to a head. Had that happened, he wouldn’t have had any other choice but to concede that he’d been rebuked, and thenceforth, attempt to atone! Undoubtedly, while the rejection would have stung, both physically and emotionally, Klavier still would have been better off if obligated to apologize. It would have left him less forlorn if he’d never haplessly believed, even for a heartbeat, that the chestnut-haired beauty had even marginally relished their propinquity as much as he had.

Fräulein Detective must have been shuddering in revulsion to my proximity the whole time she was humoring me, the fallen musician thought miserably, newly fretful about how his unseemly actions would impact their working relationship now. All the while, I remained blissfully negligent of her reluctance. I somehow was convinced that her lack of struggling was acquiescence and was beatifically oblivious to anything except for the satiny skin of that exquisite face on my fingertips while reveling in those soft curves pressed against my body.

Having to have been handled with kid gloves due to him acting in such a jejune manner was almost more humiliating than he could bear. Even worse was the knowledge that in spite of what had transpired, it’d done nothing more than fan the flames of his unrelenting searing ardor.

My ever-mounting, burning fervor for that forensic-loving Frau refuses to be diminished to ashes. It is a flame that consumes me. But I am the fire.

In hopes to quench his thirst if not his fruitless ardency, he hastily waved at a passing waitress for another drink, hoping to obliterate his tumultuous thoughts.

“Hey there handsome,” a feminine voice chirped from behind him. “You’re looking lower than the boobs of a retired stripper! Before I inquire what I can bring to help turn that frown upside down, I hope you don’t mind if I ask – why so glum, chum?”

Klavier pursed his lips, realizing despite his efforts not to be noticed, he’d still been recognized. How could he possibly answer such a query, innocuous as it was, which at that moment seemed more invasive above than anything else?

What do I have to mope about? What more do I want?… Love. Purpose. Those are the things that you can’t plan for. Those are the things that just happen. And what if they don’t happen? Do you spend your whole life pining for them? Waiting to be happy?

With no desire to share his existential angst with a stranger, nor in the mood for small talk or being Mr. Congeniality, he turned to address the voice. But then his eyes widened in astonishment as he recognized the friendly, familiar visage of the very fetching waitress, Candi the autographed cleavage enthusiast! The busty redhead, still in the same sexy bar-wench uniform as last time, was beaming winsomely at him.  He recalled now that the server was the very same one who’d last taken care of him and Ema on Valentine’s Day – as well as being the girl who’d literally collided the musician’s fate with both herself and the detective many moons ago!

“Candi!” He blinked in surprise. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“I work here, Mr. Gavin!” She tittered, tossing back her ginger curls. “Although I’m flattered that you still remember my name, if not my place of occupation!”

The German winced. Normally, the foxy female’s flirty giggle reminded him of glass windchimes tinkling against each other in a gentle wind, but today it sounded more like cannon fire at close range.

He took off his hat and dropped it on the table with a resigned sigh. While reflex made him act pleasantly when confronted with a known face, he was secretly resentful of the fact that, unlike Phoenix Wright, Klavier wasn’t able to able to claim the same incognito status by covering up his own famous locks!

“Good evening to you, Candi,” he murmured politely. “Apologies. I didn’t see you up until right now.”

“It’s been a busy night,” she replied cheerfully, already in bosom-flaunting, coy smiling mode. “I didn’t see you here until now, either. Although, The Gavinners’ leading man is the last guy I thought I’d see here all by his lonesome! Where’s your little friend who was with you last time?”

A dead silence followed the question as he felt a reflexive pang in his chest, and the redhead finally seem to clue in that something was amiss. The expectant smile left her pretty face, replaced by one of trepidation.

Obviously, the poor girl thought she was about to be told off when she’d simply been trying to do her job and make friendly chitchat with somebody who was slightly more than a stranger to her. It made Klavier feel absolutely terrible.

Sporting a counterfeit smile, the prosecutor hoped the awkwardness that bathed the moment would be transient.

“It’s just me tonight, I’m afraid.” He gestured to his empty beer mug. “Could I please get another pint of whatever’s on tap?”

“Just beer tonight?” Her sunny disposition appeared again as she returned the smile. “You sure I can’t interest you in something stronger?”

He cringed at the thought of putting his liver through the wringer two nights in a row and shook his head.

“Ja, just beer. It’s all I think I can handle right now.” He chuckled ruefully and caught a flicker of compassion in the server’s thickly mascaraed eyes, which for some reason prompted his tongue to loosen considerably. “Let’s just say yesterday and today have not been good days, so I am treating myself gently, with the hope that tomorrow will be a better one.”

“Well I’m assuming that’s not your first beer, but whether or not you’re having barley or a stiff one, I really hope you’re not driving tonight, nevertheless,” she lectured sternly, nodding approval as he shook his head in response. “I’ll be right back with your beer, and hopefully that will at least put a smile on your face. It’s very jarring to see my favorite singer look so down in the dumps, whatever the reason is.”

For some reason, the rocker found it oddly comforting that he had come across possibly one of the few people who hadn’t seen the news or read the papers thus far, as one pitying woman had been more than enough for him to endure! Which meant the waitress’s inquiry was intended as a genuine friendly concern.

“Tonight, I will be the first to admit that I’m really not myself,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Among other things, I guess you could say I’m sort of … coming off really…crazy relationship.”

“Ouch! Been there, done that!” She winced sympathetically. “When did it end?”

Klavier shut his eyes as a flicker of pain came over him.

Actually, that’s my secret. I can’t even talk about you to anybody, because I don’t want any more people to know how wonderful you are, Ema Skye, even though I know you don’t view me the same way I do you. And you do drive me crazy. In every way possible – the good, the bad, and the ugly.

He expelled a breath, ignoring the bewildered look in her eyes as he responded.

“Slightly before it started.”

Klavier Gavin
The Surly Wench Pub, Parking Lot
July 12, 2026, 2:10 AM

It died down considerably in the bar shortly thereafter, and Candi was able to keep him company for the most part while she made her rounds. Klavier finally stopped himself at six beers, which, given his high threshold, was nothing more than water, considering he’d annihilated two full liquor bottles and could still speak full sentences the previous night! By the time the last call came around, the redhead watched as he wobbled on the high stool, his leg buckling when he stood to reach into his back pocket for his wallet to pay the bill.

“We’re officially closed now. My shift’s over.” She smiled as she noticed the generous tip he’d left her. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Gavin. Are you going to be alright finding your way home? You want me to call you a taxi?”

“I’m fine,” he assured the server, knowing she’d seen his initial wobble. “I think my feet just … fell asleep from sitting so long, that’s all.”

“I don’t think that you’re bombed,” the waitress assured him, merrily seizing the opportunity to unabashedly study him from head to toe. “You don’t sound or look like it. I’ve been in the industry long enough to recognize when a guy needs to be cut off. You didn’t quite reach that point.”

Klavier noticed her admiring gaze and bit back a smug grin. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant to see that not only was he in the presence of someone who was blessedly unaware of his bleak plight but truly looked at him with desire rather than disdain. It was for this reason that he rose from his seat and came to stand right in front of her, his hands on his hips and a twinkle in his azure eyes.

“Allow me to at least escort you to your car as a way to show my appreciation for your hospitality,” he offered with a wink. “I can wave a cab from outside after I safely see you off.”

They exited the bar and headed to the back parking, and reached the waitress’s little red Toyota. Pausing at the driver’s side door, Candi bit her lip, wondering if it was too presumptuous to offer him a ride home, but as she turned around to face him her breath caught in her throat.

He was standing so close to her that she could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. His shirt was open at the top, emphasizing the strong column of his neck and offering her a tantalizing glimpse of his impressive chest. Truly, the man was too sexy to be let out amongst the regular population. Downright smoldering. She couldn’t think of another word to describe him.

She didn’t want to assume she was reading his signals wrong, but the flirtatious rock star was being a lot friendlier than she could have ever dreamed – certainly more so than the last couple of times, she’d bumped into him! A shiver raced down her spine as she realized it was now his turn to be eyeing her from head to toe.

And he certainly wasn’t taking any shortcuts!

Was it just her or was the air getting hotter here outside than it’d been inside? Her bar wench uniform suddenly seemed incredibly tight and she struggled to breathe. Her breasts felt so heavy and the tips ached unbearably. The tight lacing that cinched her waist and torso made her feel voluptuous and unbelievably sexy. He was watching her with a heavy-lidded gaze like he wanted to eat her alive, his grin downright wolfish.

She felt tingles shooting throughout her body.

Glancing down, she had a quick peek at her cleavage to make sure she hadn’t fallen out of the bust-enhancing corset. It was close. Her cleavage swelled against the lace trim, but her modesty was intact. Barely.

Her head jerked up when she felt his fingers beneath her chin. But instead of releasing her, his hand cupped her jaw and he leaned closer. For a moment she thought he might kiss her. Her lips parted in anticipation. His breath was warm on her moist mouth. He was close. So very close.

“As I was admiring you back in the bar, I noticed you were taking your time earlier in assessing how sober I was?” he purred. “I dared flatter myself that perhaps…you might have liked what you saw, schöne Frau? Tell me, did you? Because I think you know how I hope you’ll answer…”

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, but she somehow managed to nod.

“That’s so pleasing to know,” he said silkily, his lips only inches away from hers. “Tell me, do you have someplace to be…or rather, someone that you were going to see tonight after work?”

Candi’s pulse skittered alarmingly. She could not believe what she was hearing, and yet she was strangely excited by his seductive words. She glanced down for a moment before peeking up at him through her lashes, and her breath caught. His tongue slid leisurely along the seam of his lips as if he tasted her. When he caught the full lower curve between his teeth, she could’ve sworn she felt the sensation as though it’d been on her own body.

The redhead shifted restlessly, her longing gaze riveted to his scorching, come-hither one.

“Aren’t you going to answer my question?” His voice was so soft and seductive that it took a few seconds for her to process the meaning of his words. She jerked her head back in embarrassment, her cheeks heating. While she’d been all but undressing the man with her eyes, he’d been waiting for her to reply to his probing inquiry.

Feeling vixenish but strangely nervous, she licked her lips, allowing her tongue to stroke across first the upper and then the lower lip. His eyes tracked every movement of her tongue.

“No,” she managed to whisper, lost in that heated gaze. “I don’t have any plans.”

Desire, strong and potent, ripped through his veins at the unmasked longing in her eyes as she replied in the way he’d known she would. Klavier could feel himself swelling and pushing against the opening of his leather pants. It felt like ages since he’d flagrantly coveted a woman on a purely primal level, and even longer since he’d succumbed to his baser animal instincts. It’d been a few months now since he’d actually allowed another female to get his attention. Since meeting Ema, he hadn’t been overly interested in a meaningless casual exchange. Until now.

It was just what he needed. Candi was just what he needed.

He another step forward so that her full, heaving mounds brushed against his chest and stared down at her, his eyes dark as they roved over her statuesque physique.

When any man sees you, all he can think about is Fickerei.

The waitress had a body made for debauchery, and more than anything right now, all he yearned to do was be irredeemably, immorally sinful.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he murmured. “Because otherwise, I would have been very disappointed.”

Klavier leaned forward and stared into her eyes. The world around them disappeared. The sounds of the bustling traffic around them and the chatter of the people still exiting the bar seemed to fade into nothing. There was only him and Candi. His lips barely skimmed hers before leaving a trail of hot, moist kisses to her ear, tracing the edge with his tongue before nipping the lobe with his teeth.

“You have plans now,” he whispered. “If that’s what you want.”

Christina Aguilera – Candyman