Ace Attorney AU
Chapter Summary: Klavier runs into some uninformed knights and a demon he used to know.
Word Count: 999
Note: Apollo Justice spoilers. Probably spoilers for the rest of the series, too.
( it's been going too smoothly... )
|You're viewing madimpossibledreamer's journal|
Create a Dreamwidth Account Learn More
( it's been going too smoothly... )
( One maniac at a time we will take it back )
( Rivals )
“I’ve had enough of games! What’s going on?” Apollo demands, voice booming over the playing field.
The piercing blue eyes dart over to him, and then the drifter throws off the beanie, familiar spikes springing free. Apollo gapes, for once, completely quiet. That’s Phoenix Wright, the Turnabout King and disgraced champion.
“Well, how’s this?” a voice offers, now no longer muffled by the raggedy scarf Wright tugs down from his face. It’s shockingly cheerful for a guy who had pretty much disappeared after his once shining reputation was in ruins, to the point there were recurring rumors about his death or mysterious disappearance. He was one of the hottest dueling topics in the tabloids. Perhaps even more than the King of Games, since at least a little more was known about the latter definitively.
“Shadow Games are real, this is in danger of becoming one, and if you stay, you’re likely to get caught up in this whole mess, too.”
Apollo thinks. He can be reckless, rash. He’s either overly angry or really nervous, but neither are really conducive to thinking things through logically. Most of the time.
Despite what the others in his class say, though, he is capable of patience sometimes, and he uses it now to examine the situation. He can’t just run into this like he usually does. It’s bigger than that.
So all this time, his mysterious benefactor hadn’t been some unknown duelist. And had been, maybe, dragging him into something, but at least was giving him a choice, now.
Maybe that was superficial. He half expects that Wright knows that, too. And yet.
Part of Phoenix still believes, and that’s enough to convince him. If a man who had lived through such horrors could still believe that good exists, then who was he to deny? Here was his chance to make a practical difference.
“Like you’re getting rid of me.” He recognizes that goofy grin, but the sharp, dangerous way the eyes narrow as he turns back to the other player is definitely new.
"I'M APOLLO JUSTICE, AND I'M FINE!" He realizes immediately after yelling it that Klavier has no idea what he's doing, just sitting there with a raised eyebrow, and scowls. "You know what, never mind."
Klavier blinks. Apollo's not sure why a normal version of surprised looks so strange on the guy. He feels a soft touch on his arm, so much more tentative than anything the rock star has done before, and looks back to find Klavier actually has his serious face on. He's actually taking this seriously. "I'm not sure why, but this is important to you, ja, mein Freund? So it's important to me as well. What am I supposed to do, here?"
Apollo feels the resistance for another second before letting it all out in one deep breath. "Okay, I say it first, then you say it. Your name, of course, not mine. At the top of your lungs. I find it helps." He takes another deep breath, because he's going to need it for this. "I'M APOLLO JUSTICE, AND I'M FINE!"
The prosecutor nods. "I'M KLAVIER GAVIN, AND I'M FINE!" The look on his face is that of someone concentrating very hard, not sure of what they're doing and trying not to mess it up. It's kind of endearing. The prosecutor breathes in, and it's then that both of them hear Ema.
"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING? I'M ALREADY HAVING A TERRIBLE MORNING AND THEN I HAVE TO RUN INTO THE GLIMMEROUS FOP? I'M NOT SURE HOW, BUT THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, APOLLO!!"
They exchange a glance, and Apollo would be amused by how terrified Gavin suddenly looks if he wasn't in the mood to be yelled at by Ema and pelted by snacks either. "Run."
They run several blocks away from the courthouse, and then they finally stop, Klavier flopping to lean against a wall of warm brick, Apollo bending over to breathe heavily. He's not sure when it happens, but suddenly the two of them are laughing harder than he remembered either of them laughing before and they can't stop. They're laughing so hard that Apollo's vision might be swimming a little, but even then he's pretty sure he can see tears at the corner of Gavin's eyes too. Finally he stands up straight and he feels a hand use his shoulder for support as his friend does the same.
The smile this time is a genuine smile. Tinged with a little sadness, maybe, but it's grateful and as happy as it could be in the circumstances. "Danke, Herr Justice. I do feel better now."
"Well, I'm glad, because I don't particularly want to repeat running from Ema for my life, thanks." He sounds grumpy, but somehow Klavier sees past that and sees it for the 'you're welcome' that it really is. He just grins in return.
"The Fräulein Detective has a lot of frustration, and unfortunately she likes to take that out on other people," Klavier observes.
“Danke, Schatz.” Klavier presses a kiss to the top of Apollo’s head, holding the door to his car open like it’s some sort of chariot. (Actually, if the price tag is any indication, it sort of is.) Apollo flushes, trying to banish images of friendly smiles and those tanned hands filling up bowls and that stupid apron.
“I wouldn’t have thought this was the sort of way you would’ve wanted to spend Valentine’s,” he admits quietly. He thinks about repeating himself, wonders if it’s even worth it, but by the suddenly quiet, thoughtful man climbing into the driver’s seat, he knows that Gavin has heard him.
They drive for a while in a quiet, comfortable, expectant silence, and then Klavier speaks. “Actually, it’s amazing. I wish I had thought of it.” He begins humming something under his breath as he turns the vehicle smoothly, and Apollo’s yet again served as a muse. The defense isn’t sure how he feels about this, your Honor, but I’ll figure it out.
“It’s perfect, really. Your typical romancing—well, you are hardly a typical love, are you? You deserve something special, something you’ll enjoy. And we are lucky, very much so, but what about all those out there?” He gestures briefly, before putting his hand back firmly on the wheel. (It had been a little bit of a surprise to learn that Klavier was actually a firm believer in vehicle safety, which didn’t fit the image of a former rock star but fit the man Apollo had come to know.) He pauses, then chuckles quietly. “And, also, I had been worrying about security. The fans are most persistent today of all days.”
It explained a lot, and Apollo can’t help the laugh that starts until it grows out of control, him holding his side and with tears in his eyes. Klavier glances over, a smile in his eyes, and bites his lip. “TV at mine?”
Nothing sounds as good after a good day’s work than lazing around in pajamas and watching shows, so Apollo nods, still unable to talk.
For approximately half an hour, the duration of a car ride, Apollo believes that it’s a testament to Klavier’s love that he’s willing to spend this, a romantic holiday, volunteering at the soup kitchen.
Apollo had mentioned it fairly late on, and was a little worried that Klavier might have had plans would have to be canceled. The prosecutor hesitates for a moment and then smiles. It’s only the fact that it’s not a plasticky smile that doesn’t make Justice take it back. “Ja, anything for you, Schatz.” It’s a stupid, cheesy line, and it’s only the fact that Klavier actually means it that makes Apollo not hit him in his silly face.
It’s when they arrive and Simone, the lady in charge, begins flirting with the former rock star like she’s met him before that the defense begins revising his opinion based on contrary evidence. She greets him, too, but she’s definitely not interested in Justice.
He plasters on a smile and says that they’ll go get the aprons on and practically drags the tall German to the room.
The soft laughter doesn’t help, either. It’s only when a tanned hand drags his head up to meet adoring blue eyes that he allows himself to admit, on the face of the evidence, he might be a little jealous.
“Come on. It’s not as if we get to work together enough, mein Forehead. Don’t scowl so; it mars that handsome face.” He holds out a hand, and Apollo allows him to pull him out like they’re about to start dancing any second.
“We only face each other in court, about, I don’t know, all the time,” the shorter male grumbles, but his heart feels lighter.
“Out of all the offices in the world, you have to walk into mine.”
Apollo’s barely entered when he’s greeted. He rolls his eyes. “You realize this is why no one takes you seriously, right?”