It was not uncommon for Friday nights to find Apollo Justice sitting on a small and somewhat tattered couch, immediately next to homicide detective Ema Skye, the mismatched pair enjoying a spirited conversation over a round of drinks.

It was considerably less common, however, for the couch in question to be occupied by the pair on a Thursday.

The Corner Pocket was a reasonably popular bar tucked - rather fittingly indeed - into the innermost end of a small branch of streets near the centre of the city. Ema had been directed there by her older sister, who had once been in the routine of visiting the establishment during her own detective days. On that evening, she'd been pleasantly surprised to find Apollo there, enjoying a night out with his best friend when she arrived. He'd been slightly embarrassed to see her there, but welcomed her to join them all the same.

Meeting up at the bar had become a regular event in Ema's life from that point on. She found a valuable and much-needed outlet for her work-related stress in her conversations with Apollo and Clay Terran.

Things were difficult for Apollo following Clay's murder. Ema took it upon herself to help him keep his alcohol consumption at a reasonable level until he'd recovered from the great emotional toll that the event took on him.

"I can't be out all night, Ema." Apollo said, idly drumming a hand against the side of his first glass. He'd been on his way home from work on an otherwise unremarkable Thursday when he'd received a text from Ema, who requested that he meet her at the bar that evening. He'd been somewhat reluctant, but agreed all the same, his thoughts on Ema's possible motivations causing him to develop an entirely baseless sense of concern.

"I know, I've got to work in the morning, too." Ema said with a nod. She took a moment for a long sip from her own drink. "I just wanted to talk for a while. Thanks for coming."

"Hey," Apollo replied with a grin, "It was this or sitting at home and watching reruns while trying to convince Athena that I'm keeping up with the exercise regimen she keeps trying to get me into."

"I'm flattered, Tubby." Ema jibed.

For the first twenty minutes or so, the ensuing conversation was fairly standard. The bar's owner, a positively enormous man named Gordon Fishman, was always glad to see regulars like them paying the bar a visit, and he made frequent stops near the couch they usually occupied to check in on them. On his most recent pass, he'd left a small tray of seasoned chicken wings - free of charge, no less - which Ema had happily torn into with vigor that left Apollo rather stunned.

"You weren't kidding." he remarked, referring to a string of comments Ema had made regarding the nature of her current work week.

Ema waited on replying until she'd managed to tear the remaining meat from the end of her fourth wing. "You have any idea-" She swallowed, "- how weird it feels to say that the fop was probably the least annoying part of the whole thing?"

"I can imagine." Apollo said with a nod.

Ema was quiet for a short while thereafter, sliding the tray toward Apollo, who slowly picked at just a few of the remaining wings.

"I was… talking to Lana, earlier." Ema said after a while. "Before I texted you."

"About?"

"Nothing really special; mostly just stuff about my work. I vented to her, too. But there was something she said that made me stop and think. That's why I asked you to come here."

Apollo shifted back on the couch. "OK." he said. "So what's up?"

"Just tell me something." Ema prompted him. "You go to work with Mr. Wright and everyone else almost every day. You put up with just as much crap as I do - Hell, more than I do - but at the end of the week, you're the same old grinning Apollo. You can always keep up with me when we're trading horror stories, but…"

Apollo was listening with great interest. It sounded as if Ema had rehearsed this little speech at least a few times.

"Let me try this another way." Ema continued. "You've seen me out in the field. I'm not exactly gonna be winning any awards for outstanding police work."

"Hey," Apollo tried to interject, only to be waved off by Ema.

"There's no arguing it." she said. "I'm a pretty shit cop. How many false arrests did you see me make during just my first year?"

Apollo didn't want to answer. He hated it when Ema began to beat herself up like this. He knew how she felt about her job, but he always had the hope that she might eventually find herself some sense of satisfaction in it.

"It's a small miracle I'm even still on the force." Ema said. She downed what remained of her drink as Apollo wondered whether she might let him stop her growing train of self-directed criticism. "But, enough of that."

Apollo smiled hopefully.

"You remember what I've said before about how long I wanted to get into forensics. God, it was all I cared about back in high school. And then… Well, this."

"You can still try the entry exam again, right?" Apollo inquired. "They haven't changed their regulations or anything, have they?"

"That's the thing." Ema said, turning her eyes away a bit. Apollo watched her curiously. "Like I said, maybe it wasn't exactly what you might've expected when you were in school yourself, but you pretty much landed your dream job, right? Working with Mr. Wright."

"Yeah, 'not what I expected' is pretty much the whole story." Apollo agreed. "But… yes. It's a great environment, and even with all the weird crap we're always putting up with, I wouldn't like it any other way."

"There you go." Ema said with a quick gesture toward him, only heightening Apollo's curiosity in regards to her point. "Same old Apollo." She sighed. "Honestly, I ran through what I was gonna say over and over, and here I am. OK…."

She got up. "I'm gonna need one more drink." She crossed the section of the bar their couch was located in, returning moments later with a freshly refilled glass in hand. Back on the couch, she turned to face Apollo properly again. "Here's a little game. What d'you see when you look at me, 'Pollo? Aside from a stunningly attractive siren, of course."

Apollo smirked. He thought his answer through, and began, "First off, I see a great friend. A girl who might spend a lot of her time being a plain ol' grump, sure, but the kind of person you know you can always trust to keep you on your feet when you need it."

"Hmm." Ema nodded, sipping her drink. "Interesting. And here I thought I was just a really receptive complaint box. I'm glad you feel that way. OK, my turn."

Apollo waited as Ema composed her own answer. "When I look at you… provided I can get my eyes past those ridiculous antennae, of course, I see a short, shaved gremlin - kidding, kidding…" she broke off as Apollo's face made the familiar move of spontaneously turning red. She eyed her drink for a few seconds. "… Y'know - this is something I only put together myself today. When I look at you, I see…" Another sigh, "I see so much of what I want to be."

Apollo tilted his head, the momentary flush of colour in his face not yet fully receding.

"You're a great guy, Apollo, really. I might tease you plenty, - everyone does, rain or shine - but you're so passionate about your work, you've got a boatload of self-confidence, but never to the point of being arrogant, you care about your friends almost to an unhealthy degree… Basically, I see what I've been telling myself for over a year I'm just waiting to become."

"Not quite following, Ema." Apollo replied. He didn't want to sound rude, as it was clear that Ema was putting a lot of emotional stock in her words.

"Think about it." she said. "I've spent more than a year bitching about wanting to get out of the homicide department and take my forensics exam again, right? But do you see me doing it?"

"… Well,"

"You don't." Ema answered for him. "Sure, I'll come by and have a good time talking to you about it every week, but I still haven't gotten up to actually try and fix it all this time. I could start any time, couldn't I? So… why? What's keeping me back?"

Apollo met Ema's eye. Her expression held quite a lot of mixed emotions. He knew very well that Ema couldn't stand working in the police homicide department. It was only barely connected to the work she wanted to do and had spent much of her life training for, but he had to admit that he didn't really know what compelled her to just remain there all this time.

"You want me to guess?" he asked. Ema nodded. "You don't like it, obviously, so you'd think that your first step would be to get out, right? Well… something Clay told me about once might help. He took a year off from school after we graduated. He said he wanted to work for himself and save up, but when it came time to get himself started back into school, even though he cared as much as he did about getting into the space program, he was starting to get… not really comfortable, but kind of… just relaxed, we'll say, with the slow life of minimum wage and free time. He almost didn't start back into school at all until we had a long talk about it."

"Hmm." Ema looked interested. Her drink appeared forgotten, resting loosely in her grip.

"Sure enough, once he finally pushed himself into that first step, he was off like a…"

"Rocket…?" Ema finished, noticing Apollo's immediate hesitance to complete the pun.

"Yeah."

Ema shifted in her spot. "I get what you mean." she said. "I always say I can't stand my job, but here I am, over a year later, still standing it. You think I ought to just force myself to drop the act and go for the first step, huh?"

Apollo nodded. "It worked just fine for the space nerd." he said, a smile returning to his face.

Ema took on a smile to match. Apollo couldn't help but notice the tinge beginning to light her cheeks. How many drinks had she gone through…? He tried to remember. He hadn't even finished his first.

"This is just the kind of thing I needed to hear, 'Pollo." she said, setting aside her nearly-finished glass. "Thanks."

"Hey, what else am I here for, right?" Apollo asked.

Ema smirked. "I can think of something."

"… What?" Apollo wondered aloud. He got his answer a moment later, when to his utter shock, Ema swung her legs to the side and shifted toward him on the couch, leaning right in toward his face. "E-Ema-?" he barely managed to inquire before he suddenly felt an unexpected sensation of warmth against his mouth. Ema was pressing her lips to his, her eyes drifting closed even as he stared into them in disbelief.

Why on earth was Ema kissing him? The detective left him little time to wonder as she took a gentle hold of his collar and deepened her kiss. The sting of alcohol crept in with it. It took him several more bemused seconds, but Apollo began to reciprocate.

And then it was over. Ema returned to her upright sitting position, pushing a loose lock of hair back into place on the side of her face.

"Ema…?" Apollo repeated, wishing a thousand lifetimes of suffering upon the stutter he'd suddenly developed.

Ema just smiled at him as she got to her feet again. "Gordon?" she called toward the hulking bearded figure standing at the bar. "Put 'Pollo's drink on my tab, OK?"

Apollo was still sitting on the couch, as stunned as ever, when Ema glanced back. "You coming? I texted Lana already; she'll be around to pick us up in a few minutes.

Apollo's immediate instinct was to follow, but there seemed to be something wrong with his legs.

He wasn't a teenager any more. True, Apollo had the occasional moment of frustration when his very young appearance caused confusion about his age for others, but he certainly knew that he was a twenty-three year-old. He had a life and job to manage every day, so spending the bulk of the eleven hours following his trip to the bar with his thoughts consumed by what Ema had done just before their departure made him feel like his priorities were a bit skewed.

He'd been careful to mention nothing of it to his other friends. It was just a strange little impulse Ema had acted on, and he wasn't about to try and push any more out of it.

Today was Friday. He needed to make a trip to the precinct for some information pertinent to the case he'd been involved with the previous week. Athena hung back in the entryway while he walked through the crowded bullpen to reach the furthest row of closed-off offices.

The "E. Skye" nameplate wasn't really necessary to find Ema's little office. Apollo knew perfectly well where she was.

The door was closed when he arrived. He felt a bit stupid about the sprig of nervousness welling up in him. He briefly wondered whether Ema was feeling just as embarrassed as he was. Standing at the door, he could hear the shuffling of papers behind it. He knocked, and the sounds halted.

Ema pulled open the door. There was nothing about her current appearance to suggest that she'd been out at the bar the previous night.

"Hey, 'Pollo. I was just sorting everything out for you."

"Oh-…"

Apollo was surprised; Ema usually loathed anything involving large amounts of paperwork, yet even now, he could indeed see that she had prepared a neat stack of what looked to be all the information he needed on her cluttered desk. Ema stepped aside, beckoning him to enter and collect the papers.

"… Thanks, Ema." he remembered to say once he had them in hand. "Sure saves us some time."

Ema smiled. "I was feeling especially motivated today. Plus, I wanted to kill a bit of time before my prep sheets come in."

Apollo gave her a curious look.

"It's to get me ready to retake my forensics entry exam." she elaborated. Apollo grinned back.

"Took my advice, I see."

"You bet. If it means getting out of this little work box, I'm all for it."

"I'm glad to hear that. Good luck." Apollo replied. He made to exit the little office, but halted again. "Hey-… Ema? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Ema said, taking a seat on the edge of her desk.

"Umm… So, yesterday…"

Ema immediately changed her expression. "Apollo, I am at work right now." she said, earning an instant reddening of Apollo's face.

"I-I just mean, I know we've had some great evenings out at the bar, so I just want to say that…"

"Apollo."

He broke off immediately. There was a moment of quiet between them, and Ema pushed the door shut.

"I want to say something now." she said. "If you think, for even one second,"

Apollo was rapidly starting to regret bringing this up. It had been eating at his mind, but he could've just let it lie, right…?

"That I wasn't 100 percent serious about that, well… You're not quite as bright as I figured."

The words hung in the air. Apollo didn't know how to respond, just looking at Ema's firm expression with one of uncertainty.

"I'm very careful about my words, Apollo. That extends to actions, too. Even if I'm throwing chocolates at you."

Apollo swallowed a breath. His gaze flicked toward the closed door.

This was probably a stupid idea, he recognized the moment the thought entered his head. Even so, Ema probably knew what he was thinking from his expression alone. His track record for hiding things from the detective was not a strong one.

(Let's take the plunge, then.)

He set the stack of pages on the most immediately available stretch of desk space, and in just two steps, he strode directly up to Ema. She looked almost as if she was daring him to continue.

The moment their lips met, Ema tilted her head back, with the effect of forcing him into further closing the marginal space between them in order to continue. It was teasing, but also helpful. He had barely an inch of height over the detective, and her heeled shoes made up the difference.

Something else unexpected occurred only a few seconds later. Ema had one hand lightly touching his side, but the other was unaccounted for until Apollo caught the sight of the office door swinging open through the corner of his eye.

As if it had been planned all along, the first person visible beyond the door was a very familiar yellow-clad redhead.

"Hmm."

Apollo could only look back toward Athena with strained effort, somehow feeling unable to break his connection to Ema.

"I see you're having a good time," Athena went on, a truly devilish smirk on display across her face, "But did Detective Skye happen to give you what we need, now that you've got all your… other needs covered?"