Well. It's more father daughter love... not that I would know anything about that. But it's how families are supposed to be.
Spoilers, most definitely on this one. So BEWARE. You should finish the last Apollo Justice case if you doesn't like spoilers.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes full of happiness. Today used to just be Wednesday, but ever since Trucy walked in, every new day was filled with surprises for Nick. Two weeks ago he had lost his job and all because he was given false evidence... by the girl who lost her father.
"Daddy's not really gone, he'll come back soon." She'd always say to him, but he knew that they both knew better. He had adopted Trucy "until her father came back." which was looking more and more like "forever." Nick put the book down; smiling to himself as he silently left the sleeping girl's room.
What about Zak? How could he just leave Trucy, his own daughter, alone... just to escape the verdict of his trial? Nick sat down on the floor in the middle of the room, surrounded by all of Trucy's "tools of her trade". Looking up at the book case, he could still make out the shape of each law book he owned, each report on each case he had completed. And yet, I could never bring myself to blame her... the one who had ended my career...He smiled as Trucy sat down across from him on the floor, where he had fallen asleep. She finished her strawberries shortly after him, then handed him his signature hat, and a paintbrush.
"What's this for Trucy?" He took the bucket of paint from her, subconsciously noting it's bright color.
"Well, I'm gonna go and re-paint the sing, so I though you could give the agency a coat of paint." Nick looked down at the pink paint can in his hands.
I'll have to see what other paint colors I have left; I know Mia was thinking of re-painting the office too. He turned, leaving the eight-year-old to climb the ladder, which happened to be at least twice her height. I know, we have some other paints in the back...
"Daddy? Daddy, why are you staring at Charlie like that? I watered him this morning." Nick sat up straighter in his chair.
"Sorry Trucy, Daddy was just thinking." He lifted the spoon to his mouth as he realized the eight-year-old had just finished making him breakfast. She already knows her way around the office...
"Daddy? Why haven't you re-painted the agency yet? Is there not enough paint?"
"No, no Trucy. Daddy just likes the color; it holds many memories for me." Nick almost went into a flashback, when Trucy smiled down at him, holding out her hand to help him up.
"Then we'll have to create some of our own memories with this color, won't we Daddy?" He nodded, smiling at how already saturated the color was with his old memories.