madimpossibledreamer

I decided to have an epilogue part II because there were a few leads I didn't follow up on.
/em sheepish. I was uploading Torchwood:Aftershock, which turned out to be really hard because I had to go into HTML and by hand edit the font. On each individual paragraph. On all 6 of them. The 'tabbing' also turned out to be difficult, as tabs don't really work in Dreamwidth, so I have to try to use spaces (and match) on every individual paragraph that didn't properly do that.
...And then I accidentally copied and pasted one of these chapters in over the text here.
So, now I get to put everything back where it was before I messed up.
Which probably isn't going to happen, but. An eidetic memory would be really cool.
(I actually got All You Need is Kill, and I have to say, Edge of Tomorrow is the better one. The entire Captain Jack thing is new to that.)

Main Points:
Ace Attorney AU
Rating: G?
Word Count: 1,685
Summary, other main points under the cut
Hints here and there, generally character people, as well as Turnabout Histories spoilers.

Apollo/Klavier, Maggie/Gumshoe, hints at Edgeworth/Wright (really kind of background), Blackquill/Athena
It’s really quiet when they all gather in the main room. About half those present are asleep, or barely awake. Klavier slips away briefly, and it seems Clay didn’t actually manage to get away before falling asleep, which means he’s staying too. They’re all just lucky this is occuring in Edgeworth’s house, or there wouldn’t be enough room to house them all.

Klavier runs back wearing a purple Peanuts shirt, with the entire cast dancing. Apollo vaguely remembers it from a special. He raises an eyebrow.

To his surprise, this actually gets the tanned prosecutor to blush. “Tradition,” he explains breathlessly. He hasn’t bothered to change out of the pajama bottoms.

“Only a tradition with you.” He rolls his eyes, then fluffs Klavier’s hair. It would’ve been difficult if Klavier hadn’t been rummaging behind the couch to gather his presents. It still doesn’t work the way Apollo wants it to, which earns a frown, but it startles a merry laugh out of the German, so he doesn’t especially mind.

Once they’re all gathered, they start with the stockings. How Edgeworth and Wright managed to scrounge up so many is a miracle that Apollo doesn’t want to second guess. That is, if it wasn’t really Santa. Before this world colliding thing, that statement would’ve been stupid, but as it stands, he can’t really rule it out.

Gumshoe and Maggie are exclaiming about the chocolate they got in their stockings. “That Santa’s such a pal!” But he hadn’t had time; he’d fallen asleep before he’d decided what to do with them, or even got up to…

He glances up. Klavier’s grinning, a secret shared only between the two of them. He does his best not to let his ears go red, like they’re intending. And from the sound of Ema babbling about science, he’d found that too. Except…was he intending to cheat, to figure out what his presents were before the day?

He glares at his boyfriend, who apparently knows immediately what he’s going to say. “Nein, I wouldn’t spoil myself. The surprise is pleasant, ja?” Which leaves the question…what exactly was he doing in the backpack. Perhaps more importantly, another question occurs to him.

“You’re sure you don’t have telepathy?”

That earns another laugh. Which is strange. The former rocker is free with his smiles, giving them on a moment’s notice to practically anyone. It’s hard to get Klavier to laugh, though. He must be in a good mood. But then, Apollo’s in a good mood, too. Christmas at the orphanages or foster homes wasn’t really anything to write home about, even if he had had a home to do so. He didn’t have anything especially good associated with the day, but here, where Trucy was growing up, where so many people lived…there really was something magical about the air.

Or something. That actually sounded pretty stupid. But having a family of sorts, all gathered in one place, all wishing each other well…well, it had to have some effect, didn’t it?

The quiet is a little disturbing. It has the feeling of freshly fallen snow, like anything could shatter the moment, but it’s peaceful too. He’s just not used to it. Sure, he likes it quiet, or at least not being assaulted by obnoxious lyrics played at ridiculous volumes, but he’s not used to it. The Wright Anything Agency was only silent when no one was there. On any normal day, it’s loud. And with all of these people gathered here, it should be loud. And it’s not.

A hand slips into his own, squeezing gently. When he glances up into blue eyes, there’s a soft fondness in them he can’t quite read.

“We should put on Christmas music, ja?” he addresses the entire group, and there’s a chorus of ‘yes please’ and suddenly the atmosphere relaxes. It’s still quiet, but there’s people breaking off chocolate to eat because some of them have been up for hours and quietly, happily chattering away amongst themselves. Apollo’s almost dreading it, thinking that maybe the Gavinners had a Christmas album or something, but it turns out he’s safe. He might not want to give Klavier the idea, though. Even if the music on his channel these days, when he’s doing solo work or whatever, isn’t half bad.

Trucy declares that they’re opening presents one by one so that everyone can see what people got. With how many people are here and presents are sitting under the tree (some are carefully stacked just so that the mess doesn’t gobble up the entire room), that’s going to take half the day if not longer, but no one has the heart to argue with her on Christmas.

Gumshoe posts himself by the tree, handing out presents. The first one, apparently, is for Klavier. It’s pretty impressive how well they can work together as a team to pass presents to the correct recipient.

His boyfriend’s actually really careful when opening his present. No one seems impatient, though. Which, again, is unusual, but Gumshoe continues handing out presents, so they’re all occupied making sure each arrives in the correct place. Apollo leans in close and whispers, "Kristoph?"

The smile’s a little tighter, as every time his brother is mentioned, but the German shakes his head proudly. "Nein. Me. If you take a while opening presents, it lasts longer." That’s not a response he expected from a Gavin, since he’d always thought of them as rich, but it’s characteristically Klavier.

It turns out to be three pairs of jeans, in black, a purple, and a different purple. “Courtesy of Lordly Tailor,” Edgeworth explains. So they’re from Edgeworth. “They kept your information after the promotion.”

A promotion…concert? Done by the Gavinners? …Maybe, but Apollo’s not asking.

“Danke, Herr Edgeworth.” And the round robin continues.

Apollo’s in the middle of discussing Christmas music with Klavier (“the radios really need more variety” “are you asking me to compose again, Herr Forehead?” “no! knowing you, the lyrics would end up really cheesy” “und that is a bad thing?”) so he almost doesn’t glance up when the door opens until Athena jumps up from the pillow she’s sitting on (again, where Edgeworth and Wright got all the pillows from, he has no idea, because he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen any of them before now) and vaults over the couch. He glances around. And stops mid-sentence.

He’s staring, he knows, but after being told to go grovel (again!) to Athena, he really didn’t expect Blackquill to show. “I finished early,” the prosecutor shrugs, looking uncomfortable at the crushing hug he’s receiving.

The touch on Apollo’s shoulder startles him. He’s still getting the kind of weird fond look, but the amusement he’s seen before and knows how to deal with. “What he fails to mention, meine Liebe, is that he didn’t intend to come until you stopped by his office yesterday. I had forgotten my best pair of headphones on my desk…” (“what passes for a desk, anyway,” Apollo mutters) “…and headed to the office. He came and asked whether it was possible to arrive late, but not to mention it just in case he could not come. I asked him to consider the people and the setting, and he’d have his answer.”

He missed something. There’s a meaning in those blue eyes that he’s missing, somewhere, but he’s not sure when it came in, either. After a few moments, Klavier sighs and takes Apollo’s hand. “Without you, several presents would not have found their owners. You saved a boy from dying out there, but it’s more than that, mein dear Justice.”

“Scientifically speaking, he’s a runaway,” Ema butts in. “And without you, we might not have checked his home situation.”

“You gave him the hope that he might become someone better, pal,” Gumshoe added. “And the guys on the rescue team were having a really lousy day until you thanked ‘em and wished ‘em a merry Christmas Eve.”

“…I don’t remember…” Someone had been having a worse day than him?

“You visited your clients.” It’s Lamiroir, smiling. Instantly he feels guilty. He hadn’t made it to see her. But she’s smiling. “It means a lot. That you weren’t just there for us when you were doing your job. You care about people.”

“You went without food just to help others and make sure you had enough money for presents.” Vera, shy but determined.

“You were out of your mind mit worry.” It’s Klavier again. “That painting.” …Clay and Klavier…had to have gone to his apartment after he’d dropped Vera’s painting off. “That compassion, it…it’s breathtaking, Liebling.” He gets a kiss on the top of his head, but for once it doesn’t actually feel patronizing.

“And,” Simon states quietly, followed closely by Athena, “we didn’t realize it at the time, but the paperwork you brought me was extremely vital. Without it, a killer would have walked free.”

It’s hard to take in. Apollo glances up at this haphazard family. Eventually, he smiles quietly. “So, who’s next to open their present?”

“Und that, Herr Judge, is my case.” Klavier doesn’t do one of his air guitars, but that insufferable grin as he leans over onto his desk, resting lightly on his crossed arms, isn’t much better. “Apollo Justice, ace attorney, is, in fact, a Weihnachtself, that is, a Christmas Elf.”

Apollo gives his best point, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Objec—”

“Overruled!” The Judge is smiling. At least, he’s probably smiling behind the beard. Apollo can’t quite tell. “Given the evidence, I feel that I have quite enough to make a ruling.” He hits his gavel with a gravity he hasn’t used in years. “Mr. Justice shall now be given the title of Christmas Elf, given the fact that he is guilty of making this Christmas a merry one for quite a list of witnesses. Oh, and by the way, my grandson very much liked the ornament I received from our Court Christmas Elf.”

Apollo sat, defeated, as Trucy patted him on the shoulder. “Bah, humbug,” he manages half-heartedly, managing somehow to keep the grin off his own face.