Fanfic: Phoenix Wright - Morning Calm
So I wrote this fic awhile ago, in a fit of WHY ISN'T THERE MORE APOLLO/EMA, and never really got around to editing it. Stuff kept popping up. You know how it is.
Since it's been...I dunno, two weeks? I've decided 'screw it', and I'm posting it as-is.
I really have to get into the habit of editing and rewriting. Bah.
(Edit: Okay, I gave it a run-through and added some stuff. :B )
Title: Morning Calm
By: neutraltwin
Rating: G
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairing/Characters: Apollo Justice, Trucy Wright, Ema Skye, Klavier Gavin
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, property of Capcom, etc.
Apollo’s hand hovered in front of the door, nervousness and fear fighting for dominance within his chest. He knew, more than he had ever known anything before, that this was a king among bad ideas; this wasn’t just waking a bear, it was kicking it in the stomach and stealing its cub. He glanced querulously at the top-hatted girl by his side, peering up at him with an entertainer’s grin, waiting impatiently for him to knock.
“Come on, Polly!” Trucy needled. “We’ll never get that evidence if we don’t ask!”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just…isn’t this way too early?” Apollo replied. “I know we get up at 7am, but that doesn’t mean everyone does!”
Trucy grinned and patted his arm. “Oh, don’t be silly. It’ll be fine! The note said to stop by anytime!”
With a smile, Trucy pushed past him and rapped on the door, an artillery of knocks loud enough to make Apollo wince. A minute passed with no response. Trucy knocked again, even louder; Apollo could feel the pit dropping out of his stomach. This was a bad idea.
A series of thudding noises from within, and the door flew open to reveal a half-asleep, very disgruntled-looking Ema Skye. She eyeballed the both of them, glaring from beneath half-lidded eyes.
“What?” she said.
“Good morning, Ema!” Trucy chirped, apparently oblivious to the bear she had awoken. And stolen the cub of. “We’ve come for the evidence!”
“Evidence?” Ema muttered, rubbing her eyes with the flat of one hand. “Oh…right. Come in.”
Trucy beamed, skipping inside like the apartment was a free trip to Samurai Land. She halted in the hallway, turning around to peer at Apollo, still standing motionless in the apartment hallway.
“What are you waiting for, Polly? Come in!”
Apollo blinked, stared, slowly let his brain catch up with the rest of reality.
“Huh? Oh…right.”
Trailing after Trucy, he entered, vaguely realising this was the first time he’d seen Ema without her hair up, and finding himself wondering if she always looked so attractive that way. He followed the two women into the lounge, sat where he was ordered, and let his mind whirl as Trucy inspected the room and Ema disappeared to find the evidence they had come for.
It was only a few moments old, but Apollo could feel it; the image was burned into his mind. Brown hair, still sleep-rumpled, falling around the shoulders; a comfortable old shirt, practically designed for sleeping in, dark purple with mysterious stains; pyjama bottoms, striped pink and white, a cacophony of colour entirely separate from her usual browns and greens. It was a version of Ema unlike any he’d ever seen; no omnipresent pink glasses perched on the head, no carefully pinned-up hair - it gets in the way of a scientific investigation, Apollo. I refuse to tolerate that, a voice echoed at the back of his mind - no measured gaze and quick temper. Not even the ever-present bag of Snackoos. Apollo’s fingers drifted to his bracelet, tracing the pattern. This was honesty, clear and true; the real Ema Skye.
Apollo internally debated where it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and was quietly surprised to find that it just might have been.
A warm sensation entered his fingers, and he lifted his head to see Ema pushing a warm mug of coffee into his hands. He nodded his thanks, and she smiled tiredly, taking a seat in the armchair opposite him. He curled his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth; it was far too cold outside for his liking. Mornings usually were, this time of year, even with Chords of Steel to get you moving. Apollo pondered whether Ema slept with a heater on; maybe he could blame the flush he felt on his face on that.
“Sorry about this.” Apollo said. “I tried to tell Trucy you’d still be asleep, but…you know.”
“Mm.” Ema replied, lifting the mug to her lips. Apollo found he couldn’t stop himself from staring as she drank; the closing of the eyes, the slight movement of the throat as the liquid warmth travelled from cup to stomach. He shook himself; this was getting weird. Was he perceiving and he didn’t realise it?
Ema opened her eyes again, taking the cup away from her lips with a sigh. Her gaze was more alert now, more focused; the sleep-haze was lifting. She looked at Apollo, fingers curling around the cup just like his.
“I’m afraid I’m not much good in the mornings before I have a cup of coffee.” she explained, her voice low, calm, almost drawling; the sanctity of her morning peace would not be ruined by a small interruption. “I’ll look for the evidence in a minute.”
“It’s okay.” Apollo replied, finding himself smiling. He grasped for something else to say. “Sorry.”
An amused half-smile, eyes gazing at him over the rim of the cup. Apollo could see the steam rising out of the cup, painting her face in a strange light - those eyes, quietly glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit, a trace of bitterness hiding beneath the surface - and found himself wanting to press a hand to his heart. He wondered why his chest felt so strange. “It’s fine.” she said, taking another sip. “Not the first time I’ve been pulled out of bed by my job.”
Apollo paused, took a sip of his own drink - much stronger than his preferred type of coffee, not that he drank that much anyway - and nodded. “Mr. Gavin?”
That strange hardness in her eyes appeared, flickered for a moment before she took another sip. When she opened them again, it was gone…mostly. He wondered if she was always this bitter…if there was anything he could do to help.
“Yes.” she said. “Him.”
“Ah.” Apollo said, taking another sip.
Silence held as the two slowly finished their drinks, Ema half-closing her eyes every so often, Apollo sneaking glances when she didn’t seem to be looking. It was a pace he was unused to, a million miles away from Wright & co; he had to stop himself from ruining it with excessive blather, the need to do, to go, to rush. If there was one thing he knew about Ema from their work, it was that she didn’t like people going on and on about things.
Unless it was about science, of course. That was a whole different set of rules.
A few more minutes passed, neither person speaking, before Trucy bounded back into the room, waving a plastic bag in the air. Apollo saw that it contained a mud-stained shoe - the evidence they had come for - before it disappeared in a swirl of cloak and diamond-patterned panties.
“Got it!” Trucy beamed, bouncing on her toes. “Alright, Polly, chop chop! We’ve got a case to solve!”
Apollo considered protesting the pet name, but discarded the idea with a sigh. Not a battle he could win. He placed the mug on the table and stood, somewhat reluctantly, smiling his thanks at Ema. He brushed down the front of his shirt, looking down at her; she hadn’t moved, but her eyes were open now, looking at him with a sleepy half-interest.
“Thanks, Ema.” he said, feeling for all the world like that tongue-tied teenager he’d left behind when he started studying law. “Sorry to bother you so early.”
Ema smiled again, slightly wider, more infused with that infectious spirit that enveloped her in the middle of a scientific investigation. Apollo blinked; why did he remember that?
“It’s alright.” she said. “Goodbye, you two. See you on the scene.”
“Bye!” Trucy chirped, bounding out the door; how she could always have so much energy, he’d never know.
Ema raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t move; he realised he was staring.
“Goodbye, Apollo.” she repeated, raising the mug to her lips, not taking her eyes off his. That strength in her eyes, the refusal to be the first to break…he was noticing all sorts of things today.
“…goodbye, Ema.” he said, and with all the willpower he had within him, turned away and left.
Apparently, waking a bear wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
~
One investigation later, and things looked dark; the odds were piled against them, mounted so high he could barely see the peak. Just like always. But they had the truth on their side, their client was innocent, and it was his job to get everyone else to realise that too. It would be a hard-fought battle, smirking German rockstar across the floor ready to block and parry his every advance, but he could prevail. He would prevail.
Now if only he could get the image of Ema out of his head.
An earthy laugh from the other side of the courtoom; Klavier Gavin, clad in his trademark purple - a comfortable old shirt, practically designed for sleeping in, dark purple with mysterious stains - and sparkling blue eyes - quietly glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit, a trace of bitterness hiding beneath the surface…
Apollo blinked, shook himself. He needed to get his mind back on the case.
“Herr Forehead?” came the call from the other side of the court, and he focused on the prosecution for the first time. Klavier was smirking, leaning forward with that teasing note in his voice that was always so infuriating. “I’m sorry, is this case interrupting your ruminations?”
Apollo frowned, pushing the image as far as it could go out of his head; it flashed before his eyes again. Apparently, it wouldn’t go very far.
“Y-yes! I’m fine!” he said. “The defense has no objections.”
The Judge blinked in bewilderment from his seat of power. “Mr. Justice, the prosecution just asked the witness for their name and occupation. What exactly are you not objecting to?”
A shock of reality, pulling Apollo back into the court. He rubbed at his dual-pronged hair in embarrassment. Wow, that was a stupid mistake. He needed to focus.
“Ah, er…nothing?” he grasped.
A dark chuckle came from the prosecution’s bench, and somewhere in his mind, Apollo could feel that half-amused, half-asleep smile again. Fists clenched on the bench below him; he could win, he could prevail…if only to see that smile for himself again.
~
A case hard fought, but the truth was closer; he could feel it, they were close. All he needed was a little more evidence, a little more time, a little more of a witness who wasn’t as crooked as an unbent paperclip. Apollo felt a sharp pain in his arm and whirled around; Trucy had hit him. She stood there, hands on hips, expecting an answer for a question Apollo wasn’t entirely sure about.
“What?” he said.
“What?” she repeated, hitting him again. “What the heck was going on in there? You were a million miles away!”
“Oh.” he said, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, I was a little…distracted.”
“You’re telling me.” said a voice, and Apollo turned. There was no munching, but he knew who that was; an easy enough guess when it was, apparently, all you could think about the whole day. “What was so important you weren’t paying attention to the case?”
“Sorry.” he said, rubbing his antennae. Honesty is the best policy, he had been told. By the good foster parents, at least. “I, er, was thinking about someone.”
You could power a city with the amount of light that came into Trucy’s eyes. Apollo winced inwardly; he had a feeling this might happen. The girl’s mischievous nature and drive to help others just screamed ‘matchmaker’.
“Ooh, Polly’s got a cruuu-uuush!” Trucy sang, grinning from ear to ear. She tugged on his sleeve. “Who is it, who is it?”
“H-hey!” Apollo protested, tugging his sleeve free of the white-gloved grip. “I’d, uh, rather not say.”
Apollo glanced over at Ema, who was staring at them in a thoughtful way; the same way she did when she was working out theories on the scene. Apollo could feel himself growing nervous; did she know? Was he that obvious?
Ema’s eyes darkened, grew guarded - glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit - and she cleared her throat to speak. Trucy stopped trying to capture Apollo’s sleeve and turned.
“Well, whoever it is…” Ema said, gaze growing harsh. “You shouldn’t let it interfere with your work. You don’t want your client going to jail for a crime they didn’t commit, just because you were daydreaming, do you?”
“N-no!” said Apollo, louder than he would have liked. “Of course not.”
“Good.” said Ema, folding her arms, hands resting lightly on top of her elbows. “Then focus.”
“I-I will.” said Apollo.
A moment’s pause, Ema sizing Apollo up, then the world started to move again. Ema’s hand shifted down to her bag, extracted a carefully preserved file and handed it to Apollo.
“Well then, here’s the updated autopsy report. Sorry we couldn’t get it to you before court started,” she said, guard slipping and a sparkle appearing in her eyes, “but I overslept.”
Apollo squashed the impulse to point out her contradiction and took the autopsy report, nodding his thanks, not trusting even the Chords of Steel not to say something stupid. Ema gave a smile, nodded, and walked away.
“Come on, Polly!” Trucy chirped from beside him, so omnipresent in his life that he could actually forget her presence, “We’ve got new evidence! Let’s bust this case wide open!”
“…right.” Apollo replied, taking a seat on the couch. Ema was right, he needed to focus; he owed his client that much. Their life was on the line. He needed to focus.
He just wasn’t sure, with Ema’s lavender-and-luminol scent in his nose and soft smile in his mind, if he could.
~
Another investigation, another battle against German-inflected logic, and an eternity of pressure later, it was over. The judge’s gavel still ringing in his ear - Not Guilty, the two sweetest words in the English launguage - Apollo exited the courtroom, only to be immediately assaulted by a round of cheers and a storm of confetti. Smiling his way through the back-pats and praise of the defendant’s family and friends, the witnesses who had helped, even Klavier Gavin himself, Apollo passed through the courthouse and stopped at the top of the steps, gazing out at the near-cloudless blue sky above.
He always felt lighter, somehow, when he finished with a case; justice had been served, the guilty party had been found. He could relax, for a time. Apollo closed his eyes, let out a long breath, felt the knot of tension in his stomach slowly uncurl.
When he opened his eyes again, she was there. Apollo walked down the steps - mustn’t hurry, can’t look too eager - and stood in front of her.
“Nice work.” Ema said, smile wide and honest. An expression too rare on her, he thought. Maybe he could do something about that?
“Thanks.” Apollo said. “That autopsy report really saved us in the end.” He grasped for words; why was he always so tongue-tied around her? “Thanks.” he repeated, hating himself
Ema folded her arms and smirked. “Just doing my job.”
Apollo stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. It had been three days. Three days. Why was that image still in his head?
Ema raised an eyebrow, letting the silence hang, before unfolding her arms and smiling again.
“Well, a good job deserves a just reward.” she said, inclining her head down the street. Apollo followed her gaze; what, O’Leary’s Pub? He looked back at Ema, eyes asking for an answer.
Ema grinned. “Drinks. On me.”
Apollo began to protest - I don’t drink, Ema, you know that - before his brain caught up with the words. His eyes widened at the possibility; did she just…?
Ema tilted her head, waiting for an answer.
“S-sure.” he said. “That’d be great.”
Ema nodded, satisfied.
“Good.” she said, starting off down the street, Apollo breaking into a jog to catch up. As he fell into step beside her, he glanced to the side, catching her eye. She smiled at him again, science-sparkle in her eyes even though there was no science to be done.
And who knows, Apollo thought with a strange joy as the scent of the real woman beneath Detective Ema Skye filled his head again, thoughts he’d never realised floating through his head of their own free will, maybe I can get to share that morning quiet with you…just one more time.
Big apologies for me, apparently, being a gigantic sap. The fic was largely inspired by this absolutely gorgeous picture of Ema by aizawa_yuki. Congratulations, you have fic!
Now, if only I could get rid of this cough.
~ Aaron
Since it's been...I dunno, two weeks? I've decided 'screw it', and I'm posting it as-is.
I really have to get into the habit of editing and rewriting. Bah.
(Edit: Okay, I gave it a run-through and added some stuff. :B )
Title: Morning Calm
By: neutraltwin
Rating: G
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairing/Characters: Apollo Justice, Trucy Wright, Ema Skye, Klavier Gavin
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, property of Capcom, etc.
Apollo’s hand hovered in front of the door, nervousness and fear fighting for dominance within his chest. He knew, more than he had ever known anything before, that this was a king among bad ideas; this wasn’t just waking a bear, it was kicking it in the stomach and stealing its cub. He glanced querulously at the top-hatted girl by his side, peering up at him with an entertainer’s grin, waiting impatiently for him to knock.
“Come on, Polly!” Trucy needled. “We’ll never get that evidence if we don’t ask!”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just…isn’t this way too early?” Apollo replied. “I know we get up at 7am, but that doesn’t mean everyone does!”
Trucy grinned and patted his arm. “Oh, don’t be silly. It’ll be fine! The note said to stop by anytime!”
With a smile, Trucy pushed past him and rapped on the door, an artillery of knocks loud enough to make Apollo wince. A minute passed with no response. Trucy knocked again, even louder; Apollo could feel the pit dropping out of his stomach. This was a bad idea.
A series of thudding noises from within, and the door flew open to reveal a half-asleep, very disgruntled-looking Ema Skye. She eyeballed the both of them, glaring from beneath half-lidded eyes.
“What?” she said.
“Good morning, Ema!” Trucy chirped, apparently oblivious to the bear she had awoken. And stolen the cub of. “We’ve come for the evidence!”
“Evidence?” Ema muttered, rubbing her eyes with the flat of one hand. “Oh…right. Come in.”
Trucy beamed, skipping inside like the apartment was a free trip to Samurai Land. She halted in the hallway, turning around to peer at Apollo, still standing motionless in the apartment hallway.
“What are you waiting for, Polly? Come in!”
Apollo blinked, stared, slowly let his brain catch up with the rest of reality.
“Huh? Oh…right.”
Trailing after Trucy, he entered, vaguely realising this was the first time he’d seen Ema without her hair up, and finding himself wondering if she always looked so attractive that way. He followed the two women into the lounge, sat where he was ordered, and let his mind whirl as Trucy inspected the room and Ema disappeared to find the evidence they had come for.
It was only a few moments old, but Apollo could feel it; the image was burned into his mind. Brown hair, still sleep-rumpled, falling around the shoulders; a comfortable old shirt, practically designed for sleeping in, dark purple with mysterious stains; pyjama bottoms, striped pink and white, a cacophony of colour entirely separate from her usual browns and greens. It was a version of Ema unlike any he’d ever seen; no omnipresent pink glasses perched on the head, no carefully pinned-up hair - it gets in the way of a scientific investigation, Apollo. I refuse to tolerate that, a voice echoed at the back of his mind - no measured gaze and quick temper. Not even the ever-present bag of Snackoos. Apollo’s fingers drifted to his bracelet, tracing the pattern. This was honesty, clear and true; the real Ema Skye.
Apollo internally debated where it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and was quietly surprised to find that it just might have been.
A warm sensation entered his fingers, and he lifted his head to see Ema pushing a warm mug of coffee into his hands. He nodded his thanks, and she smiled tiredly, taking a seat in the armchair opposite him. He curled his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth; it was far too cold outside for his liking. Mornings usually were, this time of year, even with Chords of Steel to get you moving. Apollo pondered whether Ema slept with a heater on; maybe he could blame the flush he felt on his face on that.
“Sorry about this.” Apollo said. “I tried to tell Trucy you’d still be asleep, but…you know.”
“Mm.” Ema replied, lifting the mug to her lips. Apollo found he couldn’t stop himself from staring as she drank; the closing of the eyes, the slight movement of the throat as the liquid warmth travelled from cup to stomach. He shook himself; this was getting weird. Was he perceiving and he didn’t realise it?
Ema opened her eyes again, taking the cup away from her lips with a sigh. Her gaze was more alert now, more focused; the sleep-haze was lifting. She looked at Apollo, fingers curling around the cup just like his.
“I’m afraid I’m not much good in the mornings before I have a cup of coffee.” she explained, her voice low, calm, almost drawling; the sanctity of her morning peace would not be ruined by a small interruption. “I’ll look for the evidence in a minute.”
“It’s okay.” Apollo replied, finding himself smiling. He grasped for something else to say. “Sorry.”
An amused half-smile, eyes gazing at him over the rim of the cup. Apollo could see the steam rising out of the cup, painting her face in a strange light - those eyes, quietly glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit, a trace of bitterness hiding beneath the surface - and found himself wanting to press a hand to his heart. He wondered why his chest felt so strange. “It’s fine.” she said, taking another sip. “Not the first time I’ve been pulled out of bed by my job.”
Apollo paused, took a sip of his own drink - much stronger than his preferred type of coffee, not that he drank that much anyway - and nodded. “Mr. Gavin?”
That strange hardness in her eyes appeared, flickered for a moment before she took another sip. When she opened them again, it was gone…mostly. He wondered if she was always this bitter…if there was anything he could do to help.
“Yes.” she said. “Him.”
“Ah.” Apollo said, taking another sip.
Silence held as the two slowly finished their drinks, Ema half-closing her eyes every so often, Apollo sneaking glances when she didn’t seem to be looking. It was a pace he was unused to, a million miles away from Wright & co; he had to stop himself from ruining it with excessive blather, the need to do, to go, to rush. If there was one thing he knew about Ema from their work, it was that she didn’t like people going on and on about things.
Unless it was about science, of course. That was a whole different set of rules.
A few more minutes passed, neither person speaking, before Trucy bounded back into the room, waving a plastic bag in the air. Apollo saw that it contained a mud-stained shoe - the evidence they had come for - before it disappeared in a swirl of cloak and diamond-patterned panties.
“Got it!” Trucy beamed, bouncing on her toes. “Alright, Polly, chop chop! We’ve got a case to solve!”
Apollo considered protesting the pet name, but discarded the idea with a sigh. Not a battle he could win. He placed the mug on the table and stood, somewhat reluctantly, smiling his thanks at Ema. He brushed down the front of his shirt, looking down at her; she hadn’t moved, but her eyes were open now, looking at him with a sleepy half-interest.
“Thanks, Ema.” he said, feeling for all the world like that tongue-tied teenager he’d left behind when he started studying law. “Sorry to bother you so early.”
Ema smiled again, slightly wider, more infused with that infectious spirit that enveloped her in the middle of a scientific investigation. Apollo blinked; why did he remember that?
“It’s alright.” she said. “Goodbye, you two. See you on the scene.”
“Bye!” Trucy chirped, bounding out the door; how she could always have so much energy, he’d never know.
Ema raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t move; he realised he was staring.
“Goodbye, Apollo.” she repeated, raising the mug to her lips, not taking her eyes off his. That strength in her eyes, the refusal to be the first to break…he was noticing all sorts of things today.
“…goodbye, Ema.” he said, and with all the willpower he had within him, turned away and left.
Apparently, waking a bear wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
~
One investigation later, and things looked dark; the odds were piled against them, mounted so high he could barely see the peak. Just like always. But they had the truth on their side, their client was innocent, and it was his job to get everyone else to realise that too. It would be a hard-fought battle, smirking German rockstar across the floor ready to block and parry his every advance, but he could prevail. He would prevail.
Now if only he could get the image of Ema out of his head.
An earthy laugh from the other side of the courtoom; Klavier Gavin, clad in his trademark purple - a comfortable old shirt, practically designed for sleeping in, dark purple with mysterious stains - and sparkling blue eyes - quietly glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit, a trace of bitterness hiding beneath the surface…
Apollo blinked, shook himself. He needed to get his mind back on the case.
“Herr Forehead?” came the call from the other side of the court, and he focused on the prosecution for the first time. Klavier was smirking, leaning forward with that teasing note in his voice that was always so infuriating. “I’m sorry, is this case interrupting your ruminations?”
Apollo frowned, pushing the image as far as it could go out of his head; it flashed before his eyes again. Apparently, it wouldn’t go very far.
“Y-yes! I’m fine!” he said. “The defense has no objections.”
The Judge blinked in bewilderment from his seat of power. “Mr. Justice, the prosecution just asked the witness for their name and occupation. What exactly are you not objecting to?”
A shock of reality, pulling Apollo back into the court. He rubbed at his dual-pronged hair in embarrassment. Wow, that was a stupid mistake. He needed to focus.
“Ah, er…nothing?” he grasped.
A dark chuckle came from the prosecution’s bench, and somewhere in his mind, Apollo could feel that half-amused, half-asleep smile again. Fists clenched on the bench below him; he could win, he could prevail…if only to see that smile for himself again.
~
A case hard fought, but the truth was closer; he could feel it, they were close. All he needed was a little more evidence, a little more time, a little more of a witness who wasn’t as crooked as an unbent paperclip. Apollo felt a sharp pain in his arm and whirled around; Trucy had hit him. She stood there, hands on hips, expecting an answer for a question Apollo wasn’t entirely sure about.
“What?” he said.
“What?” she repeated, hitting him again. “What the heck was going on in there? You were a million miles away!”
“Oh.” he said, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, I was a little…distracted.”
“You’re telling me.” said a voice, and Apollo turned. There was no munching, but he knew who that was; an easy enough guess when it was, apparently, all you could think about the whole day. “What was so important you weren’t paying attention to the case?”
“Sorry.” he said, rubbing his antennae. Honesty is the best policy, he had been told. By the good foster parents, at least. “I, er, was thinking about someone.”
You could power a city with the amount of light that came into Trucy’s eyes. Apollo winced inwardly; he had a feeling this might happen. The girl’s mischievous nature and drive to help others just screamed ‘matchmaker’.
“Ooh, Polly’s got a cruuu-uuush!” Trucy sang, grinning from ear to ear. She tugged on his sleeve. “Who is it, who is it?”
“H-hey!” Apollo protested, tugging his sleeve free of the white-gloved grip. “I’d, uh, rather not say.”
Apollo glanced over at Ema, who was staring at them in a thoughtful way; the same way she did when she was working out theories on the scene. Apollo could feel himself growing nervous; did she know? Was he that obvious?
Ema’s eyes darkened, grew guarded - glowing with deep blue intelligence and wit - and she cleared her throat to speak. Trucy stopped trying to capture Apollo’s sleeve and turned.
“Well, whoever it is…” Ema said, gaze growing harsh. “You shouldn’t let it interfere with your work. You don’t want your client going to jail for a crime they didn’t commit, just because you were daydreaming, do you?”
“N-no!” said Apollo, louder than he would have liked. “Of course not.”
“Good.” said Ema, folding her arms, hands resting lightly on top of her elbows. “Then focus.”
“I-I will.” said Apollo.
A moment’s pause, Ema sizing Apollo up, then the world started to move again. Ema’s hand shifted down to her bag, extracted a carefully preserved file and handed it to Apollo.
“Well then, here’s the updated autopsy report. Sorry we couldn’t get it to you before court started,” she said, guard slipping and a sparkle appearing in her eyes, “but I overslept.”
Apollo squashed the impulse to point out her contradiction and took the autopsy report, nodding his thanks, not trusting even the Chords of Steel not to say something stupid. Ema gave a smile, nodded, and walked away.
“Come on, Polly!” Trucy chirped from beside him, so omnipresent in his life that he could actually forget her presence, “We’ve got new evidence! Let’s bust this case wide open!”
“…right.” Apollo replied, taking a seat on the couch. Ema was right, he needed to focus; he owed his client that much. Their life was on the line. He needed to focus.
He just wasn’t sure, with Ema’s lavender-and-luminol scent in his nose and soft smile in his mind, if he could.
~
Another investigation, another battle against German-inflected logic, and an eternity of pressure later, it was over. The judge’s gavel still ringing in his ear - Not Guilty, the two sweetest words in the English launguage - Apollo exited the courtroom, only to be immediately assaulted by a round of cheers and a storm of confetti. Smiling his way through the back-pats and praise of the defendant’s family and friends, the witnesses who had helped, even Klavier Gavin himself, Apollo passed through the courthouse and stopped at the top of the steps, gazing out at the near-cloudless blue sky above.
He always felt lighter, somehow, when he finished with a case; justice had been served, the guilty party had been found. He could relax, for a time. Apollo closed his eyes, let out a long breath, felt the knot of tension in his stomach slowly uncurl.
When he opened his eyes again, she was there. Apollo walked down the steps - mustn’t hurry, can’t look too eager - and stood in front of her.
“Nice work.” Ema said, smile wide and honest. An expression too rare on her, he thought. Maybe he could do something about that?
“Thanks.” Apollo said. “That autopsy report really saved us in the end.” He grasped for words; why was he always so tongue-tied around her? “Thanks.” he repeated, hating himself
Ema folded her arms and smirked. “Just doing my job.”
Apollo stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. It had been three days. Three days. Why was that image still in his head?
Ema raised an eyebrow, letting the silence hang, before unfolding her arms and smiling again.
“Well, a good job deserves a just reward.” she said, inclining her head down the street. Apollo followed her gaze; what, O’Leary’s Pub? He looked back at Ema, eyes asking for an answer.
Ema grinned. “Drinks. On me.”
Apollo began to protest - I don’t drink, Ema, you know that - before his brain caught up with the words. His eyes widened at the possibility; did she just…?
Ema tilted her head, waiting for an answer.
“S-sure.” he said. “That’d be great.”
Ema nodded, satisfied.
“Good.” she said, starting off down the street, Apollo breaking into a jog to catch up. As he fell into step beside her, he glanced to the side, catching her eye. She smiled at him again, science-sparkle in her eyes even though there was no science to be done.
And who knows, Apollo thought with a strange joy as the scent of the real woman beneath Detective Ema Skye filled his head again, thoughts he’d never realised floating through his head of their own free will, maybe I can get to share that morning quiet with you…just one more time.
Big apologies for me, apparently, being a gigantic sap. The fic was largely inspired by this absolutely gorgeous picture of Ema by aizawa_yuki. Congratulations, you have fic!
Now, if only I could get rid of this cough.
~ Aaron