Winter break has been good for me—I don't think I've finished a chapter this quickly before! Anyway, I hope I did alright with this. I have always believed that the strong point of Ace Attorney's writing has been its dialogue and comedic timing, so I tried my best to replicate that here. At any rate, enjoy! :)


When Trucy had asked him to help her with something, Apollo assumed it was for something school related, not…this.

"I said no sequins!"

Apollo grimaced as Trucy pulled the thread through anyway.

"Oh come on, we have to match! You're not a proper assistant unless we do."

He sighed, "My arm's getting tired."

"Deal with it," she responded coolly, then beamed her usual smile at him, "Pretend you're practicing your "Objection!" pose."

Apollo rolled his eyes and tried his best to pretend he was not currently sporting a bright red, top hat and cape. Trucy had tapered the cape's bottom into diamond tips, as per expected of the Gramarye tradition. The glitter was definitely something he could've done without, but at least the color wasn't so bad.

"Wouldn't it be better if Mr. Wright helped you with this instead?"

"He's busy studying for the bar exam, plus he's still working in the evenings. I don't want to disturb him," she pulled the thread tight and snapped it between her teeth.

"But I've got a job too! I'm a lawyer!"

Apollo watched nervously as she sifted through a box of gaudy looking baubles, "It's not like I've forgotten, but you don't have any cases right now, right?"

"Hnngh…" he relented, "Speaking of studying, don't you have any homework of your own to be doing?"

"It's taken care of," she said easily.

Apollo did not take this to be synonymous with, "I've actually done it."

"Ah! Here it is!" she exclaimed, pulling out what looked like—to Apollo's horror—a heart shaped brooch.

Before she could even move to fasten it to his costume, Apollo flat-out opposed, "No. Absolutely not."

"Whaaaat? But it goes so well with this color…"

"Can't I have a club instead?"

"That's Daddy's symbol!"

"What about a spade?"

"Uncle Valant's," she nodded fiercely.

"A diamond, please."

"That's mine!" her voice lowered, "and my mother's."

(Oh, give me a break!), he thought, attempting to stare down Trucy's doe-eyed expression.

In the end he just sighed and reluctantly said, "…alright, fine."

Trucy gave out a rather girly sounding squeal and quickly pinned it to his cape, right above his collar bone. It was at this point that the office door opened, revealing Phoenix still clad in his pajamas and clutching some old case files.

(At least he's clean shaven) Apollo couldn't help but notice.

"Apollo, there was a call for—" he stopped as soon he caught sight of Apollo, who promptly turned as red as the top hat he immediately swiped from his head, "Well, you've certainly been busy."

"Just—! Just helping Trucy with a project, Mr. Wright…"

"Should I be concerned?"

Apollo visibly deflated, "Mmm…maybe a little, sir," he quickly changed the subject, "Studying for the exam?"

Phoenix nodded.

"Want me to make you some tea, Daddy?" Trucy piped cheerfully, promptly getting up to make some.

Apollo was glad that her attention was shifting elsewhere, but he had a foreboding feeling that Phoenix had come out of his office for more than just a warm hello, "What was that you said about a call, Mr. Wright?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Prosecutor Gavin called, asking for you," Apollo tried to stifle his spine's instinct to straighten at the mention of Klavier, "but I told him you were out of the office."

Apollo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, but the sinking feeling in his stomach didn't quite go away, "…and why would you do that, sir?"

Phoenix flashed him a smile that practically sent chills up his back, "Mostly because when I asked why he needed you, he said, 'I wanted to inform him that his declaration of love is healing quite nicely.' You wouldn't happen to know what he meant by that, would you?"

Before Apollo could even proceed with his rebuttal, Trucy let out a high-pitched sound that he had hitherto thought humanely impossible, "I knew it! Ema totally owes me five bucks!"

"She doesn't owe you anything!" Apollo screeched, not quite sure whether he was more horrified that the thought of…him and Klavier had ever entered her mind, or the fact that she and Ema Skye were apparently having conversations about his (non-existent!) love life.

"Oh, you don't have to be shy Apollo, there's no need to be embarrassed," Phoenix interceded, "We're very accepting here."

"But I'm straight!"

Trucy began pouring the water thoughtfully, a finger resting on her cheek, "I'm not really sure that matters."

All he could muster was the thought, (Of course it matters!)

"Klavier kissed me. There was absolutely no declaring of love on my part!"

"Well, whatever you did, apparently he's, 'healing quite nicely'," Phoenix smirked, "Just what have you two been doing?"

Apollo panicked at the possible subtext of this remark, "I hit him! That's it."

"Did you now? Well, that's surprising—I hadn't pegged you as quite that type."

Apollo—much to Phoenix's delight—was beet red in the face at this point.

"Stop twisting everything out of context, it wasn't like that! He wasn't listening to me when I told him to stop. I'm telling you, it's all one-sided on his part—I don't even know why he's so attracted to me all of a sudden."

He buried his face in his hands, feeling the blush still burning on his cheeks. Why was this happening to him? He'd paid his taxes this year, hadn't missed a single payment on his apartment! He tipped fairly and almost never jay-walked. He was an honest, hardworking citizen, with nothing particularly extraordinary about his person.

Apollo couldn't think of a single reason for why he deserved to be in this situation.

Trucy swirled a spoon round one of the cups of tea, "Aw, Polly, give yourself a little more credit—you're a very attractive person."

Apollo couldn't help but foolishly swell a little with pride, "R-really?"

"Yes," she then proceeded to pinch his cheeks, much to his dismay, "You're as cute as a button—I bet you could make all the boys come running if you wanted."

(Trucy…you are truly your father's daughter.)

"It's true," Phoenix dropped unceremoniously beside the young attorney, arm draped across the back of the couch directly behind Apollo's head, "I'm just sorry Klavier got to you before I could. He's sneaky, that one."

Apollo nearly jumped out of his seat, "Sir—!"

"And I was all ready to ask Trucy to make you a 'MaMa' beanie to match this one," he slipped a thumb under the close-knit cap on his head and tugged.

"Mr. Wright, for the love of all that is holy, I'm begging you, please stop."

"I'm serious. I'm a total wreck right now—what's it called, Trucy, when your feelings aren't reciprocated?"

The chink of metal on china indicated that Trucy had finished making the tea, "Unrequited love?"

"I believe the correct term is sexual harassment," Apollo grimaced.

Phoenix leaned in closer, cheeky smile from ear to ear, "Oh come on, my heart's breaking here. What's he got that I don't?"

Apollo stood up, clearly flustered, heading for the door, "I…I have to be somewhere right now!"

The movement made for a very dramatic exit, or at least it would have, if Apollo didn't somehow manage to trip on his feet on his way to the door. If anything, the extra strength he put into slamming it on his way out certainly made up for it.

Phoenix chuckled as Trucy handed him his tea, "Think I overdid it?"

Trucy slowly stirred her own drink, wearing a smile that was matched only by the one worn by her father, "Probably, but I'm not complaining."

They both quietly laughed into their tea, thoroughly unrepentant.

"When do you think he'll realize he's still wearing the cape?"


Stupid Wright, with his stupid, twisted sense of humor. Apollo almost wished he had just let Klavier talk to him, because lord knew Phoenix had only lied to the prosecutor because he never missed the opportunity to mercilessly tease him. Apollo was legitimately upset by the time he got to the bottom floor, and to make matters worse, as soon as he got on the transit bus, he got the distinct impression that everyone on board was staring at him.

At first he thought it was only his imagination getting the best of him, but when five minutes into the ride a small child pointed in his direction and yelled, "Mommy look, a superhero!" he took a moment to check himself.

(Dammit!)

Well, it was too late to go back now. Apollo crossed his legs and hunched forward, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but it didn't help that his stop was still ten minutes away. At any rate, he was at least grateful that it was only about mid-day, and not too many people seemed to be currently riding the bus.

Suddenly, he felt a light tug on his cape—he looked beside him to see the small boy from earlier. He looked to be no older than five, at most.

"Hey mister! Can I sit next to you?"

Apollo looked over to where he had seen him sitting previously and saw who he presumed to be the boy's mother, fast asleep against the window.

"I don't know if that's—"

"Don't worry mister, I promise I won't tell anyone your secret!"

"…my what?"

The boy pointed enthusiastically at his own face. Apollo brought the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose and felt the smooth velvet of a domino mask, realizing that he had completely forgotten he had put it on as part of the costume. Without waiting for a reply, the small boy climbed up into the adjacent seat, pulling his legs up and hugging them close to his chest.

"You fight bad guys, don't you?" he whispered excitedly.

The grin that the little boy flashed him was so sincere that Apollo couldn't bring himself to discredit it. Besides, it wasn't really a lie to agree with him, was it? After all, he did his fair share to ensure that "bad guys" saw the light of justice.

"Yeah, you could say that."

The boy rubbed a finger under his nose, looking utterly pleased with his perceived cleverness.

"What's your name, mister?" his voice dropped even lower than before, "Your hero name, I mean."

Apollo sat up straighter and crossed his arms, surprised at how willing he was to play along, "You can call me the Steel Chord."

"That's so cool! I bet you have all sorts of cool super-powers."

He shook his head, smile growing soft and wide, "I merely use the truth to catch the criminals in court. Anyone can do what I do."

The little boy's eyes grew wide, "Even me?...what's a court?"

"Court is where justice is served. If you study and work hard, you can go there one day and uphold the law too, just like me."

He could feel his chest growing lighter, his shoulders lifting as he relaxed from his troubles. It was such a cheap ego boost, and a little nonsensical and dishonest, but this was the best he'd felt all day. It felt nice to be appreciated—and yeah, sure the kid didn't have the completely correct impression, but the sentiment was certainly in the right place.

"Ronald Isaac DeLite! You stop bothering that man this instant!"

Apollo's head snapped up to see the boy's mother standing with her hands firmly on her hips, sporting a rather discerning look. Upon closer inspection, he estimated her age to be around her early thirties, but she seemed to have a sort of underlying, continual youth about her. Probably something to do with the leather jacket and biker goggles.

The young boy—Ronald, apparently—pulled at his mother's sleeve, but otherwise stayed seated, "Mommy, Mommy, this guy's a superhero, just like Daddy!"

"Sweetie, I'm sure this nice gentleman doesn't want to be disturbed."

"Oh no ma'am," Apollo quickly offered, "I'm fine, he wasn't a bother at all."

She sighed, "Really, I shouldn't have fallen asleep like that, it was rather irresponsible of me. Let me at least thank you for watching him by paying for your fare."

"No, that's alright!"

She glanced at the price board at the head of the bus, "How far are you headed?"

"Really ma'am, it's no trouble. I'm off at the next stop anyway, so it's not that hard to pay the fare myself."

Apollo slipped his hand into his pocket…only to discover to his alarm that it was empty. He quickly checked his other pocket, but again came out empty-handed. With a heavy feeling in his stomach, it quickly dawned on him that his wallet was currently back at the office, tucked safely away in the pocket of his work clothes. He slowly lifted his gaze until it was level with the woman's, who was wearing a positively blinding smile.

"…"

"Well, I guess that settles that matter," she pulled out her purse, still smiling, "Like you said, it's only the price of one stop, so don't think you're inconveniencing me."

"T-thank you ma'am, really," Apollo accepted the cash, truly grateful.

"Wait!" Ronald exclaimed, thrusting his hand into his pocket, "I want to help too!"

After a bit of searching, he managed to fish out one dime and a quarter, dropping them happily into Apollo's outstretched hand.

"You take care now, alright?" the woman said as the bus rolled to a stop.

"Goodbye, Mr. Steel Chord!"

Apollo nodded, thanked them once again, and got up to pay his fare. As he stepped off the bus, he couldn't help but feel his embarrassment flare up again as people around him began to point and stare. He watched as the bus pulled away, noticing a small face plastered to the back seat window. Little Ronald waved and smiled at him, which did cheer him up slightly. He waved back until the bus disappeared around the corner, then slumped over and sighed.

Well, this certainly wasn't good.

Normally at this point he would transfer over to another bus, but now that he knew he wouldn't be able to pay the fare without his wallet, he was effectively stuck in this part of town. He thought about calling the office, but seeing as how his cell phone was also still with his regular clothes, that was out of the question.

It was then that a thought struck him. Weren't the prosecutorial offices close by this stop?

Apollo had to admit though, that he didn't like the idea of heading over there, if only because of the possibility that he might bump into a certain individual…but really, he realized, there weren't very many options available to him at the moment.

With a sense of apprehension, he set off towards the prosecutor building, hoping to high heaven that he could find Ema Skye without running into Klavier. If his good luck continued, maybe she'd even be able to rustle up some normal clothes for him.

The whispers and glances that followed him down the street only served to quicken his step.