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24 November, 2028

Apollo was consistently the last person left in the offices of the Wright Anything Agency and often the very first one there. Work kept him busy, and truth be told, he liked being busy. He could honestly say he loved working; he never knew what to do with himself when he wasn't, and he hated the idea of procrastinating on paperwork. Procrastination was something he just didn't do, so much so that Clay used to tease him about it. … Well, Clay was gone now... but Trucy had more than picked up the slack, mocking him ruthlessly for his meticulous work and effeminate cursive handwriting. Apollo didn't think much of it; he always thought it was too narrow, small, and pointy to read properly, but everyone else seemed to vehemently disagree.

He put down his pen, flexing his cramped fingers, and glanced at the office clock. He hadn't realised it was so late. He stood up, took off his reading glasses, and stretched. At least he'd finished and wouldn't have any to do tomorrow (with luck). Apollo yawned as he shuffled the paperwork into three neat piles and placed one in his own OUT tray, and the others on Athena's and Mr Wright's desks for them to sign. Sometimes it really did irritate him that he was, for all intents and purposes, the office secretary. At least Trucy never needed him to write anything for her; she preferred to use him as her lovely assistant, something Apollo was still not used to. Why using Athena was out of the question, he didn't know, and Trucy certainly wasn't going to tell him.

"It has to be you, Polly! You're a natural up there!" she would say with a cheerful tip of her hat whenever he asked about it. Apollo sighed and shook his head, stowing his reading glasses back in the top drawer of his desk where they belonged. He stifled another yawn as he cleared the desktop and clicking off the old green banker's desk lamp, plunging the office into near total darkness. The skies were clouded, and the hotel room opposite the office was pitch black, and the only real light came from the orange glow of a tall street lamp on pavement outside on the opposite side of the road. Apollo picked up his coat, briefcase, and scarf, exiting the office and locking it before calling the lift at the end of the softly-lit hall.

His eyes stung from so much reading, even despite the reading glasses seriously reducing the strain he put on his eyes doing it. He wouldn't even need the glasses if not for excessive reading of such small print; his eyesight had always been above average. At the very least, his vision never suffered for all his reading, although he wasn't sure that it was possible for your eyes to go bad from reading paperwork. He rested his head against the wall of the elevator, closing his eyes and sighing. He was so tired...

The lift stopped and he pushed himself off the wall and entered the lobby. It was mostly dark except for the lights above the reception desk, though the receptionist had long since gone home. The janitor was behind the desk, vacuuming and whistling through his teeth. He glanced up at Apollo and raised a hand in farewell, a gesture Apollo returned before pulling on his coat and scarf. The night was bitterly cold as they headed into late autumn and the start of winter was just around the corner. The air was still and Apollo could see his breath rising in a thick mist in front of him as he stepped to the curb of the pavement, waiting for an unoccupied taxi to hail.

He blew warm air into his hands (despite knowing perfectly well that this would only make them colder in the end), rubbing them together. The street was mostly void of cars, except ones parked along the roadside that belonged to people still at work in the office building, and unusually, there weren't any cabs. Apollo tucked one hand in his coat pocket, the other keeping a hold on his briefcase. The cold, at least, was a little sobering and woke him up somewhat. He glanced up and down the street, occasionally pacing. Apollo switched his briefcase to the other hand and tightened his scarf before catching sight of a taxicab pulling into the hotel beside the office building. A young couple got out with the cabbie, who unloaded the trunk. Apollo watched them for a moment before approaching the cab driver. The driver was one Apollo knew, though he had never learnt his name. He spotted Apollo as he got back into his cab, pausing in the act of turning on his availability light and gave a small sigh.

"Need a cab?"

"Yes, please."

Apollo was glad to be inside the warmth of the cab, sinking into the beige leather seat. At least the driver knew where to take him... He closed his eyes again, thinking about how he couldn't just go to bed when he got home and how early he had to get up tomorrow morning to be on time. He sighed; it wasn't the fault of the paperwork, though, that caused him this level of anguish regarding sleep. Apollo rarely got sleep even on his days off. Sleep had never come easily to him, to the point that if he bothered to see a doctor about it, he didn't doubt that he'd be diagnosed with insomnia. Still, with as much as he worked, he didn't have the time to take sleep medications that required him to get so many hours of sleep.

Apollo fished his keys out of his pocket ten minutes later and unlocked his flat. He tossed his keys into a basket on the table inside the door and slipped off his shoes before walking further inside. Cosmia, a cat that once belonged to Clay, was sleeping on the back of a chair, her bushy black tail flicking absently. Apollo scratched her behind her ears and walked into the kitchen to feed her and take care of his lunchbox. Cosmia gave him the sort of stern look only a cat can give until he put the dish down. He left her to it to go take a shower. The hot water felt wonderful on his cold skin, even if it did sting a little, feeling more comfortable and warm than his sheets were going to be. He allowed the water to rain down on his back like a gentle massage, contentment washing over him as he stood there, eyes closed. Apollo hadn't even realised he was so tense from the cold outside until he felt his muscles relaxing; he gave a soft sigh, running his fingers through his hair to break up the gel and the hairspray that maintained his hairstyle, tilting his head back into the water. Usually the only time he really had to just think was now as he showered, but tonight his mind was rather clear of thoughts of work and life; he was instead humming to himself, the lyrics occasionally slipping in a mumble from his lips.

He turned off the shower before he decided to just lay down and sleep there, and finished getting ready for bed, scowling at his reflection as he took a comb and hair dryer to his hair. Ungelled, combed, and dry, at least mostly so, it hung in his eyes, rather limp but sleek and shiny, and making him look even younger than he already did. The soft locks that embraced his face curled in slightly, tickling his cheeks. With it down like this, he looked about half his actual age, something he'd always found frustrating about his appearance. Apollo ran his fingers through his hair one last time, pushing his fringe away from his face and watching them fall back in place, sticking up slightly in places. He picked up his briefcase from the hallway and set it instead by his bedside table, laying down in bed and in a rare moment, drifting off rather quickly to sleep.

It felt like only five minutes had passed when Apollo's alarm went off. He moodily slammed the off button, laying there in the darkness of the pre-dawn, glaring at the clock with one eye. He blinked and then pushed himself up onto his knees in bed so quickly that he nearly fell sideways out of it. He pushed his fringe out of his eyes yet again and stared at the luminous blue numbers. He was a full hour behind schedule. He sprang out of bed, stumbling as his ankle caught in the sheets, and rushed around to get dressed, banging into walls and his dresser in his haste. Cosmia came to see what all the fuss was about and meowed at him indignantly. Apollo stopped, midway through buttoning up his shirt. He sighed.

"Sorry, Cosmia, hang on just a little longer."

Meow. It was a reprimand.

"I'm sorry!" he said, snatching up his tie and throwing it around his neck. "I'm running late!"

Cosmia stalked up to him, batting at his ankles with one fluffy black paw. Apollo ignored her, knotting his tie neatly and folding back one sleeve of his shirt, while grabbing his waistcoat with his free hand. He usually allowed himself a full hour and a half to get ready for work, and with the bad weather he didn't have more than a few minutes to get ready if he planned on being punctual. He buttoned his waistcoat and snatched up his briefcase, getting to the kitchen as quickly as he could with a cat at his heels. He fed Cosmia before getting his lunch ready and eating a hasty breakfast. Cosmia purred and twisted around his ankles as he got his shoes on. Apollo sighed, sparing her a smile and scratching her fluffy head and under her chin. Cosmia purred louder, stretching, and licked his fingers before trotting off. Apollo pulled on his coat and stopped as he made, for the fifth time that morning, to brush his fringe out of his hazel eyes. He gave a very irritated sigh and began buttoning his coat. He had no time for it anyway that morning. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and exited the flat.

A few inches of powdery snow lay around outside, and a thin layer of frost coated the banisters and walls. Apollo was careful as he made his way down the stone stairs from his second floor apartment, and rightly so as he stepped on a patch of ice. His grip on the banister became vicelike and he steadied himself. Snow was still falling from the cold grey sky, and the street lamps were still on, these ones, unlike the ones by the office, illuminating the street with an unfeeling and sanitary bright white light that, somehow, still seemed to make the street feel dark. They went well with the air of winter, unlike the warm orange lights elsewhere in the town.

Apollo flexed his fingers to keep the blood flowing through them, standing along the street to hail a taxi, occasionally glancing at the watch he carried in the pocket of his coat. He turned the collar of his coat up against the wind that had picked up overnight, irritably pushing his hair back as it blew in his eyes. It took what felt like far too long to find a taxi and in fact, he ended up sharing it with a pretty young woman with long red hair. She was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place her.

"Thank you."

"It's no trouble," she said. "It's much too cold to be outside right now and I'm nearly to my destination."

Apollo smiled at her and the woman blushed. The taxi came to a halt outside the Prosecutor's Office. Apollo blinked at the woman, who paid him no mind as she gave the driver his fee.

"You're a prosecutor?" he asked as she got out of the car.

"I am," she said, smoothing her skirt and picking up her own black business case. Apollo got a glimpse of the silver nameplate on the front- EFFE. She gave Apollo a smile. "Have a nice day."

She closed the door and walked off, hailing Prosecutor Gavin as he, too, made his way up the front steps. Apollo watched her for a moment before telling the cabbie where to go. He wound up arriving a full ten minutes early. Still, he was impatient as he poked at the button to call the lift.

"Good morning, Mr Wright. Morning, Trucy," Apollo said as he entered the cluttered Agency. "It's snowing, so you might want to get going to school soon, Trucy."

"In a minute..."

Apollo set his briefcase down on his desk and paused in the act of pulling off his coat. Mr Wright was watching the news report with something like idle interest, relaxing with his back between the arm and the back of one of the sofas, his attention more focused on the papers in his hands. Trucy, however, was unusually focused on the news. It was usually the other way around, really, with Trucy finishing some last-minute schoolwork and Mr Wright commenting on the news. Apollo turned his attention to the small screen showing a newscaster with a freshly bobbed haircut giving a report.

"... may have, in fact, murdered him," she was saying as she walked around a dusty and cobwebbed old theatre. "Back to you, Malcolm."

"What was that about?" Apollo asked.

"Trucy can tell you if you walk her to school," Mr Wright said vaguely as he moved to another page in his packet. "She was paying more attention than I was."

"Okay," Apollo said uncertainly, putting his coat back on the rest of the way and adjusting it. "Fine by me. Come on, Trucy."

He picked up his scarf again and waited for her beside the door. Trucy scrambled around, trying to find her coat. Apollo looked at the watch again and sighed, stowing it away again. "Trucy, you're going to be late."

"I know, but I can't find it!"

"You can wear mine," he said impatiently, opening the door. "Come on."

She picked up her schoolbag and kissed her father on the cheek. "Bye, Daddy!"

"Have a good day."

Apollo handed her his coat in the lift downstairs, rubbing his forearms in discomfort. It had never been comfortable for him to have sleeves around them, which was the real reason he kept his shirtsleeves folded back. Trucy smiled at him.

"You're the best, Polly. Thanks!"

He returned her smile, ruffling her hair. "Sure thing."

His coat was a little big on her, but then again, she was rather shorter than he was. Trucy picked up her bag again, holding it in front of her. "Okay, so, have you- wait, what did you do to your hair, Polly?"

She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide. Apollo felt himself flush, running his hand over his hair to smooth it back like normal, only for it to fall back in his eyes carelessly.

"I was running late this morning, so I didn't have time to do anything with it."

"You look funny with it down," she informed him, making him blush with further embarrassment, "but kinda handsome."

"Oh, uh... thanks," he said awkwardly, changing the subject. "So what was that news report about?"

"Have you ever heard of Erik Houd, Polly?" she asked as they exited the lobby the office was situated in.

"Uh..." he paused to think. "Maybe? He's... a magician, right?"

He could only be, considering her deep interest in him and the news report.

"No, well, not exactly," Trucy said. "He's an escape artist."

"What, like Houdini?"

"Yeah, like that," said Trucy as they approached People Park. "He died in a stage accident about 20 or 25 years ago. They're renovating down the Capulet World Theatre where he died, because it hasn't been used in about a decade, and they found evidence that suggests that Erik Houd was actually murdered by his assistant, Liesel Weizar. She's under suspicion right now."

She rushed a few paces ahead and turned to him, her fists on her hips, scowling. "Polly! You have to go and see her!"

"What?!"

"She needs help!" Trucy said, poking him in the chest.

"You think she didn't do it?" Apollo asked, shivering as the wind picked up again.

"Of course she didn't!" said Trucy impatiently, folding her arms.

"Do you know her?" Apollo asked, waving her along the pavement ahead of him.

"She used to babysit me. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

(So you're biased in her favour... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go see her, though, if she's a friend of Trucy's...)

"I'll take Athena with me," he said, finishing his thoughts aloud.

"Thank you, Polly!" she bounced a little on her toes and hugged him around the neck, causing him to bend at the waist. It was amazing how much gravity could make someone so small and light feel like a very heavy weight.

"Ow, Trucy, that hurt..."

"Sorry, Polly."

"So," he rubbed his neck where Trucy had yanked him down. "Who was this Erik Houd? I mean, apart from an escape artist."

"He was the best since Houdini," Trucy explained, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as they began walking again. "There wasn't anything he couldn't escape from. It really was like magic, real magic, the kind in stories, not stage magic. He was just that good, and he was really young, too. About my age, I think. He always worked with different magician troupes; he never stayed with just one. He liked to work with the different magicians, learning more and more about magic from them and he liked to see how each troupe did their shows."

"Did he ever work with Troupe Gramarye?"

"Yes," Trucy smiled, shoving her hands in the pockets of Apollo's charcoal grey coat. "I don't really know much about it, though. He didn't always stay with a troupe for a long time. Sometimes he stayed so long, people thought it was permanent, but just when the rumours began to be made public, news would hit that he was with a different trope. It wasn't even that he disliked the troupes he left, either; he liked to show off his tricks to as many people as he could, just for the love of the craft. He contributed about a dozen new escapes, too."

They stopped at a zebra crossing and she finished her story as they waited for the lights to turn.

"He died performing what was to be his greatest trick yet," she said sadly. "The tank malfunctioned, and the top had sealed shut. According to the story, it froze shut, because the trick involved freezing water, but no matter how hard he tried, the tank lid wouldn't open and the tank itself wouldn't break when Leisel and the stage hands tried to break it. He drowned in front of a full stadium."

Apollo stared at her, his mouth slightly open. "That's terrible."

"Mh-hm," she sighed.

"So why haven't I heard of him?" the crossing light lit up and they stepped off the pavement. "It sounds like the kind of story I'd actually hear about, considering how big magic was when I was a kid."

Trucy suddenly looked really depressed. "After he died, people began to say Erik Houd was a fraud because he couldn't escape from that last trap."

"Was he?" Apollo asked before he could stop himself.

"No!" she said, throwing him a furious look that was far too adorable to be threatening.

"Sorry, sorry..." he said, laughing as she swatted his arm several times. "Ow! Abuse, abuse! S-Stop!"

He knocked into a wall, sticking out a hand and stopping her from coming closer. She blinked in surprise at the pressure of his hand on her forehead.

"Hey..." she whined.

"Meh, don't hit your elders, squirt," he said, pushing her back gently.

"You're not that old, Polly."

"I'm 24," he replied, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm what, seven years older than you? Doesn't that make me some kind of old foagie?"

"No, Daddy's an old foagie," she said confidently. "He's always saying he is."

"Yeah, to get out of cleaning the toilet," Apollo muttered, before imitating his boss; "'You see I would, but at my age all my joints ache... I'm just not as young as I used to be'!"

They laughed, pausing at another crossing. Trucy really did bring out this side of him these days, much like Athena did. Maybe it was because Athena was around and he took joy in mercilessly teasing her that he felt comfortable teasing Trucy, too, even though she was his superior. She never acted like it, except when pulling rank for whatever reason. Usually to make him be her 'lovely assistant', which he was gradually starting to actually enjoy, protests aside.

"Here we go," he said, stopping at the top of the stairs down into Crater Rock High School.

"Thanks, Polly," she said, turning to him. "Are you really going to go to the detention centre?"

"Mh-hm," he said, shivering slightly from the icy air. "I said I would."

"G-Good morning, Trucy," a tall and lanky boy with ash blond hair and glasses had stopped beside them. A girl who looked as if she could be his sister walked by them, throwing them a quick smile before going to join her friends.

"Hi, Sheridan," said Trucy, and Apollo was surprised to see a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. "Good morning."

Apollo looked at the boy called Sheridan now. He was smiling, eyes on Trucy.

"Okay," he said, rather louder than he'd intended. "I'll leave you to it, then, Trucy."

"Okay, bye, Polly," she said quickly.

Apollo arched his eyebrows. "Bye... Have a nice day at school...?"

She wasn't listening, her attention on Sheridan and already halfway downstairs. Apollo watched them walking away, raising his eyebrows still further. Then a grin unfurled on his face. Trucy seemed to like this Sheridan boy. He'd have to tease her about it later. She'd never let him live it down if she knew he even remotely liked a girl. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he'd certainly tease her.

Apollo shivered, rubbing his arms. He'd completely forgotten to ask for his coat back from Trucy. He could always take the long way to the office back to his flat, but he'd rather take a cab if he did that. He wasn't opposed to exercise, but between the bitter cold and the distance, he wasn't sure he wanted to walk that far. He sighed, turning around and walking back the way he came, walking quicker than before. He could feel his body conditioning itself to the cold, which was quite a funny feeling. He could feel the chill of the air, but the only time it bothered him was when the icy wind blew over him. He was cold, that was obvious, but his body no longer shivered; it was an odd sensation, really. He didn't like it, but it beat constant reminders that he was cold every time he shivered.

Apollo was back to feeling the cold when he entered the warmth of the lobby, feeling as if the chill was radiating off his skin. He rubbed his arms as he crossed to the lift, finding Athena standing there, impatiently jabbing the up button to call it and bouncing from foot to foot. She screamed when he walked up behind her and poked her in the sides, whirling around and obviously ready to hit him. Apollo held his hands to shoulder height.

"It's just me, Athena."

"Huh...?" she cocked her head to the side, then noticed the suit. "Oh! Apollo. You look different today. … aren't you cold? And late?"

"No, unlike you, I was on time for work today," he teased. "I just took Trucy to school. She took my coat and I forgot to take it back, yes I am cold, and I didn't have time to actually gel my hair today so of course, yes, I look different."

"Do that more often," she said, flicking his fringe with her gloved index finger. "It makes you look more normal and your forehead doesn't look so giant."

He sighed, blowing a the lock of hair out of his eyes. "Did you hurt your wrist serving that backhanded compliment, Athena?"

"Huh?"

The lift dinged as it arrived, and three people in fluffy costumes exited. Athena and Apollo watched them go over their shoulders, bewildered, before entering the lift.

"Do you ever wonder exactly what kind of people work in this building?" Athena asked. "Or at least, what kind of businesses?"

"I gave up wondering," Apollo said with a shrug. "Sometime after I began working here, I realised it wasn't worth it to think too much about it."

Athena was still hopping from foot to foot, drawing Apollo's eye from her constant movement. Her long red hair was sticking out from under a knitted yellow cap adorned with a bright blue crochet flower. The hat matched her gloves and scarf exactly, and she was wearing a quilted yellow jacket over her suit. The moment the doors were open, she bolted down the hallway to the office, her slipstream causing Apollo's hair and scarf to flutter slightly.

(She needs to tone down the energy...)

Mr Wright was sitting at his desk, his suit jacket thrown over the back of his chair, absently chewing on the end of his pen as he (quite obviously) played Solitaire on his computer. Apollo gave a small tsk as he approached the desk. Mr Wright returned to signing the papers in front of him quickly.

"Mr Wright, Trucy would like me to look into a case."

"Trucy?" Mr Wright looked up. "Did she just ask you that?"

"Yes."

"So it's about that case that was on the news?"

"Yes," Apollo said, crossing his arms. "She seems to trust Ms Weizar. So I thought I could at least go see her."

"Well, who am I to say no when Trucy trusts her?" he said, amused. "Take Athena with you to meet Ms Weizar."