Notes – Done for pw_contest, under the prompt "Prickly". Set at some point after Turnabout Corner, probably post-AJ.
Apollo had found himself in one of those situations where you sit and stare at something for too long, causing you to spend a lot more time thinking about that something than was truly necessary.
The 'something' in question was Phoenix, lying on the sofa across from Apollo's seat, fast asleep. But it wasn't Phoenix as a whole that had caught his attention. Somewhere in the rise and fall of the man's body as he gently snoozed his hat had attracted Apollo's gaze.
That hat, the blue thing that Trucy had knitted him ages back, he'd heard, with 'Papa' scrawled onto the side artfully and a pin badge given to him by Ema attached to it. Apollo honestly couldn't remember ever seeing Phoenix without it. Perhaps he always wore it to keep Trucy happy, perhaps it reminded him of his friend, Ema, or maybe he just liked it.
Whatever the reason, it was the final touch on the image that separated the Phoenix he knew from the Phoenix he had looked up to in his youth.
He could remember the photos from the newspapers as clearly as if he was holding them right now – Phoenix Wright, with that determined expression on his face, as if he was daring the truth to try to hide from him.
But the one thing that had stood out about Phoenix the most had been that hair of his. It was been unbelievably spiky. And it seemed hard to picture such sharp-looking hair resting so calmly under that hat he wore now.
Which was what had caused Apollo to stare at it for so long.
There was only one way he could find out the truth behind Phoenix's hair, and that was with further examination. Though he wasn't sure taking off his hat was such a good idea.
Though, he had to admit that he had known Phoenix to sleep through pretty much anything. Often, the only thing that could wake him was a passing Eldoon Noodle cart, as Phoenix's stomach possibly didn't sleep as soundly as the rest of him did. So surely he wouldn't notice if the hat was briefly removed and then put back?
He'd got it into his head that he was going to do it; there was no stopping him now.
Reaching forward, Apollo grabbed the hat and gently took it off, taking care to avoid catching any hair in with it.
And there it was - Phoenix's hair.
It was unkempt compared to how it had been, but ignoring the odd stray strand that fell in front of his face it looked almost the same as it had been back then. Apollo ran a hand through it. It was so much softer than he'd been expecting, though in that sense he couldn't make any comparisons to how it had been back then, having never touched the younger Phoenix's hair.
"Would you mind putting my hat back on, otherwise my head will get cold," came a yawn from below him.
Jumping, Apollo let go immediately and looked down at the face of Phoenix, who was watching at him through sleepy eyes.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to… well, um… you see…" he stammered.
"Its fine," Phoenix said, sitting up to take hold of his hat and laughing in his usual carefree manner, "A lot of people are curious about my hair, though I don't understand the fascination myself. Was it as prickly as you imagined?"
"Not really," Apollo confessed, trying not to look as embarrassed as he felt.
"There you have it then, no potential murder weapon attached to my head," Phoenix confirmed, "Though I'm not sure your horns are quite as safe myself."
"There's nothing unnatural about my hair, you've seen my gel it yourself," Apollo pointed out, indignant at the thought someone would suggest such a thing about his own hair.
"A lawyer should never take anything said to him at face value, Apollo; you should have learnt that," Phoenix said, grinning and moving closer to him, "I think I'll have to have a thorough examination…"
"Don't you dare!"
"This will only take a moment."
"Keep away, I'm warning you!"
Trucy came in from school that day to find her father with a protesting Apollo in a headlock messing up his hair for some reason and laughing about it. When she asked what was going on he told her that Apollo's horns needed checking to make sure he wasn't concealing any weapons in them.
The young magician decided to leave them to it – boys could be so funny about their hair sometimes.