Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey there, kid, where you off to?"

Apollo paused. He hadn't noticed Mr. Wright sitting there. The piles of--What were those piles of? They looked like boxes of confetti, but Apollo didn't want to ask--obscured the chair the man was slouching in. "Oh, just out."

"Out? That's not very specific."

Mr. Wright's lazy tone didn't indicate that he was actually interested in Apollo's destination, but Apollo clarified anyway. "Since I don't have a case, and a client probably isn't going to walk through the door in the next few hours--or days--I thought I would go look for something productive to do."

Mr. Wright raised his eyebrows. "I see. Industrious of you. Good luck. Just be careful--you don't want to turn into an ambulance chaser."

Apollo was pretty sure this was another of Mr. Wright's jokes. "Um no, I don't."

"That's how it starts--lawyers going out looking for work, hitting the pavement. Next thing you know, you've got a TV commercial and a catchy slogan. Something like, 'Been in an accident? You need Justice!'" He paused. "No, wait. That's no good. I'll think of a better one for you."

"I don't want to be an accident lawyer," Apollo said mournfully.

"That's where the money is," said Mr. Wright.

"Is it?" Apollo didn't know how he allowed himself to get caught up in these conversations.

Mr. Wright shrugged. "So I hear. I wouldn't know. I'm not a lawyer."

Apollo dutifully stifled a sigh and restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't have any idea, then."

Mr. Wright smiled and nodded. "You go out, Apollo. Have fun being productive, or whatever it is you young people do. Take all day if you want. I'll be around. If any clients show up, I'll take a message for you."

"Thanks," said Apollo, refraining from restating the simple fact that there would not be any clients showing up. "You're the best, Mr. Wright."

"Don't I know it."

Outside, the air was fresh and the sun was bright. It was a welcome change. The street was calm and quiet, no one in evidence but a few people out for walks and some parents or nannies with their young children. Older children were still at school, and men and women with regular day jobs were busy doing them. Apollo was technically on the job, but his "job" was vague enough that he might as well say he was always at work. He was always a lawyer, and a job might come up at any time. Freelancers were never truly free. Though they could slack off very easily, which was what he was doing now, although he was keeping his eyes open for possibilities. Not ambulances, though. Definitely not.

Apollo wasn't sure what he'd meant by telling Mr. Wright he was looking for "something productive to do". Above all, he'd wanted to get out of the office for a while, and he'd thought he could find something remotely useful to occupy his time, something that didn't involve being sawn in half by Trucy or completing whatever weird busy work Mr. Wright happened to think up for him. Inventing a filing system for Mr. Wright's leftovers had been--he didn't know what it had been, but it hadn't been educational or enjoyable.

Apollo eventually drifted into a little café near Ivy University. It was the kind of place frequented by students, the decor cluttered and weathered and presumably meant to be arty. The music they played was too jarring for Apollo's taste, but the smoothies were good enough that he could put up with that shortcoming.

Not that it mattered, because he forgot about the music when he saw the cashier. Why did the guy have to be so cute? Apollo felt his face heat as he ordered his usual strawberry and banana smoothie, though he tried to seem cool and unconcerned. After placing his order, he remained by the counter, waiting for the barista to make his drink. He looked at the cashier. The cashier looked back. The situation wouldn't have been as awkward if there had been other people waiting in line, but no, he'd come in during a lull, and there was no one else to save him.

He tried to think of something to say. "Do you like working here?"

The cashier smiled. "Sure, it's not bad."

"Yeah, it seems like a nice place. I like the smoothies." Apollo's every word echoed in his ears, sounding so obviously forced and foolish to him.

"Do you have a job?" the cashier asked. Still smiling, still friendly, so probably Apollo hadn't been too stupid. "Because if you're looking for one, we're hiring."

"Oh, yeah! I've got a job. I'm--uh, a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" The cashier laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"No!" His already heated face got hotter. His ears were burning. "I'm a defense attorney. Look, here's my badge."

"Oh, sorry." The guy hadn't stopped smiling, though the smile was less friendly now. "You look kind of young, is all." He laughed again, though weakly. "You don't have to shout."

Apollo realized he had raised his voice without meaning to. He brought the volume down, quickly. "I--I'm not. It was an accident. Sorry." He wished his order would arrive and put him out of his misery, but there seemed to be a hold up with the bananas, and his drink still wasn't ready. He decided to shut up and wait for the smoothie in silence. He'd always been terrible at chitchat.

He was expecting the cashier to remain silent as well, which was why he was surprised when the man suddenly spoke to him again. "Oh my god! Look who it is!"

Apollo looked. A couple had walked through the door. He didn't recognize the young woman, but the same could not be said of the man with her. All smiles and light, it would have to be Klavier Gavin, exactly when Apollo was at his most embarrassed.

Since Apollo was standing right next to the cash register, with no place to hide, Gavin spotted him at once and breezed over. "Apollo Justice, how nice to see you."

At least the man hadn't called him by a stupid nickname this time. "Hi, Gavin. Good to see you, too." Finally, his smoothie was ready. He grabbed it. He noticed the cashier was gazing at him with new respect. But at what cost? "Sorry, I've got to run. I'm working on something." Not exactly a lie, as his vague mission of looking for something productive to do counted as something. Not exactly the truth, either, but this wasn't a court of law. "I'll see you later."

"Ah, yes. I understand what it's like to be busy." If Gavin suspected that he wasn't being completely honest, it didn't show on his face. "Good day, Herr Justice. I hope we'll meet again soon."

When he reached the door, Apollo glanced over his shoulder. Gavin seemed so at ease with his pretty date, and he was already joking with the cashier, who was plainly smitten with him. How did he do it? Yes, he was famous, which helped, but it was more than that. It was charisma. Confidence. Charm. It was also irritating. At least the smoothie was good. Apollo drank it in deeply as he turned his back on the café, and the sweet taste was some consolation.

***

The Wright Anything Agency was quiet when Apollo returned, and he wondered if that also meant it was deserted. It was too early for Trucy to be home from school, but Mr. Wright had said he'd be around. Not that that necessarily meant anything, as he often wandered off without any notice and even less explanation. "Hello?" Apollo called out, clutching the cup that contained the dregs of his smoothie. "Anybody here?"

"Yes, one minute." A familiar, muffled voice came from the back rooms. Apollo rarely ventured there, and never when he was by himself. Those were Mr. Wright and Trucy's bedrooms, and it would have felt weird to go in there while they were gone.

Mr. Wright shortly emerged from the mysterious depths of his room. "You're back early." For once, he appeared visibly surprised. He also wasn't wearing his hat. His hair was sticking up in the back. Apollo tried to remember if he'd seen Mr. Wright with his hat off before. "I thought you'd stay out a few hours, at least. You seemed so determined to chase ambulances."

Apollo didn't bother to contradict him. "I found out pretty quick that I'm useless," he declared, plopping himself down on the couch in what he hoped was a forceful and forthright manner. He folded his arms over his chest, cup still clutched in one hand.

"Already? Wow, that was fast." Mr. Wright returned to the chair he'd been sitting in earlier. "It takes most people years to figure that one out."

"I'm a fast learner," Apollo shot back.

"Ha. I guess so." The colorful boxes stacked around him made it look like he'd been playing at building himself a fort with adult-sized blocks, though they were probably related to Trucy's act. "Want to talk about it?" As usual, he didn't sound particularly interested.

Apollo suspected he was being humored, but he didn't care. He did want to talk about it. "Yes! I'm giving up."

"Giving up?" Mr. Wright ran a hand through his hair and glanced to one side, as if he wasn't giving the conversation his full attention. Apollo would never have guessed Mr. Wright had such spiky hair. "I get the idea you're not talking about practicing law."

"No, I'm not."

"So what is it you're so keen on giving up?"

"Dating."

"You were--on a date?"

"No, I wasn't on a date. That's the point. I'm never on a date. I can't get a date!"

Mr. Wright glanced away again. Apollo was expecting a snarky answer, but instead, Mr. Wright said, "Now, Apollo. You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

"What happened?"

Apollo felt too embarrassed to recount the incident in the café. If he tried to explain it, he'd seem stupid all over again, and this time in front of Mr. Wright. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. "Nothing, really. I don't know how to talk to people, that's all."

Mr. Wright crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. "Is there anyone in particular you wanted to talk to?"

Apollo's doubts about broaching this topic increased tenfold. He hadn't thought of what it would actually be like to discuss the matter with Mr. Wright. "Just--someone cute. Forget it."

"No, no, this is an important subject. Relationships are the spice of life, isn't that so?"

Enthusiastic Mr. Wright was worse than sarcastic Mr. Wright. "I guess," Apollo admitted miserably.

"So, who is the lucky object of Apollo Justice's affections?"

"No one in particular! I mean it!"

"Okay, calm down." Mr. Wright held up a hand. "Don't get all bent out of shape."

Flustered, Apollo tried to explain. "It's just that Gavin--"

Mr. Wright blinked, appearing surprised for the second time today. "Prosecutor Gavin?"

"No, it isn't him! That's not what I meant!"

"Sure, I believe you!" This time, Mr. Wright put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "I only wondered how Gavin fit in to your decision to renounce dating forever."

"Oh, he came into the café when I--I was trying to talk to someone, but it wasn't going well, and then Gavin happened to come in, and he's so great at talking to everyone."

"So Gavin's mastery of romance has you feeling insecure?"

"You could put it like that," Apollo admitted, though he wasn't too fond of the phrases "mastery of romance" or "feeling insecure".

"I think I understand. All right, I have one piece of advice for you, Apollo."

Apollo was wary. "And that is?"

"Be yourself."

"Be--myself." That was terrible advice. It was a cliché. It didn't help at all. "That's your big advice?"

Mr. Wright nodded. "It always worked for me. Back in the day. When I was a young man like you."

Once again, Mr. Wright was talking as if his life was already over. Apollo decided not to challenge him on it this time. "I think that's terrible advice," he snapped.

Mr. Wright took this criticism in stride and smiled. "Fair enough. If this old man's way of doing things is too old fashioned for you, I've got another idea."

"What is it?" Apollo asked, without much hope that he was going to hear anything helpful.

"I find that if I need help with something, it's best to go to an expert. Go to a plumber when the pipes explode, go to a mechanic when your car blows up, go to a lawyer when you're accused of murder. If you need help with dating, why not go to someone who's good at it?"

"What are you getting at?" Apollo narrowed his eyes. Mr. Wright's examples were too dire for his comfort.

"You did say Prosecutor Gavin was 'so great'."

Apollo recoiled. "Go to him for advice? No way! I can't do that."

"Why not? He seems friendly towards you."

"Yeah, but it's embarrassing!" He groaned. Gavin would probably be insufferable about it. So smug and confident. "Anyway, he's probably too busy to help me with something dumb like that."

"Are you kidding me? Do you even know Gavin? I bet he'd set aside a whole day for something like that."

"Maybe." Mr. Wright was probably right about that. Gavin was known to go on about romance and poetry and love. "But it sounds annoying."

Mr. Wright shrugged. "Suit yourself. Hey, what do I know about romance?"

Apollo looked at him sharply, suddenly thoughtful. He'd never thought about Mr. Wright and romance together. Did Mr. Wright--go on dates? He did go out a lot, and most of the time, Apollo had no idea where he'd been. He'd assumed the man was out working, playing piano poorly and playing poker a lot better--or, since he'd started preparing to retake the bar exam, studying at the law library. Apollo felt a question hovering on his lips, but he decided not to ask it. Mr. Wright wasn't going to answer him, and he'd end up more embarrassed than ever. "Not much," said Apollo dryly.

"Think about it," said Mr. Wright, but he shrugged again, as if he didn't care, then got to his feet. "Since you had such a hard time, why don't you go home, take the rest of the day off? Like I said, if a client shows up, I'll pass the message along."

"Sure, fine, why not? It's not as if I have anything else to do." Someday, maybe, he'd have another case, but it didn't look as if today was going to be that day.

As Apollo was reaching for the doorknob, about to leave, Mr. Wright's voice sounded again. "Apollo." Apollo turned. Mr. Wright was standing in front of the door leading to the mysterious other rooms, pointing at him. His spiky hair all but bristled. "Think about it," he said again.

What was with Mr. Wright today? "Okay, okay! I'll think about it."

***

Apollo was true to his word. He thought about it. He didn't want to, but once he had the idea in his head, it proved impossible to get rid of. That was why, a few days later, he found himself standing in the Prosecutor's Office.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Justice, Mr. Gavin isn't here," he was informed by Gavin's secretary. He'd been to Gavin's office before, but the secretary hadn't been present at the time. She smiled at him pleasantly over her desk. He was not surprised by her good looks. "He's at lunch."

"Um. Do you know how long he'll be?"

"Usually he's back by one." Her gaze flickered to the clock. "So it won't be long. You're welcome to wait."

Apollo wondered if Gavin was the only prosecutor with his own personal waiting room. He seated himself in one of the chairs across from the woman's desk. He scrutinized the magazines that had been left out on the small table next to the chair. They all seemed to have something to do with guitars. Apollo really, really wasn't interested in guitars, but he flipped through one of the magazines wearily, as if it were his duty to do so.

He hardly looked at what was written on the pages as he flipped. He was having second and third thoughts about showing up here. Maybe Mr. Wright's advice had been a joke, designed to put him in this ridiculous situation. He had no idea what he was going to say to Gavin, and he was starting to think he had been right before, when he'd decided to renounce dating forever.

"You're very interested in that article, ja?"

Apollo started, his head snapping up. Klavier Gavin stood before him, regarding him amusedly. "Oh, I didn't hear you come back," Apollo said, quickly putting the magazine to one side.

"I had no idea you were such a music lover."

"I'm not," Apollo blurted.

Gavin laughed. "I see. We won't talk about music, then. Instead, I will ask you, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"It's--" Apollo grew very conscious of the secretary's presence. "It's a personal matter."

"Personal?" The man's eyebrows went up. "How intriguing. Very well, I have time for a personal matter. If you will follow me into my office, we can discuss it there."

Apollo continued to tell himself that he shouldn't be doing this, but he nonetheless followed Prosecutor Gavin into his office. The room was messy, but artfully so, almost as if its occupant wanted to seem casual and unconcerned. However, the man's displayed guitars, which took up an entire wall, told another story: carefully locked away, pristine.

Gavin pulled out a chair with a flourish. "Please, have a seat. I'm very glad to see you. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk more the other day."

"Oh, right." He had no intention of telling Gavin why he'd left the café so quickly. "Yeah, you caught me in the middle of something."

"And now, here you are in my office. Very mysterious, seeing you twice in a few days after I haven't seen you in a few months. And for a 'personal matter', no less. You interest me, Herr Justice." Standing over him, Gavin apparently had no intention of finding a seat of his own, preferring to fold his arms over his chest and shift his weight slowly from foot to foot.

"I do? I didn't mean to." This was definitely a bad idea. Even though Gavin's band had broken up, he still loved to make a big production out of everything. "It's no big deal, I swear."

"No big deal," the prosecutor repeated. "Got it. Then what is the little deal?"

"I wanted to ask your advice about something, that's all."

"My advice? Does this have to do with a case? I'll have you know, I won't be giving you an unfair advantage over the other prosecutors." He paused and winked. "At least, not too much of one."

"No, it's nothing to do with legal stuff at all."

"I'm even more intrigued now. Please, don't keep me waiting."

He'd come all this way, and at this point, he couldn't think clearly enough to formulate a believable alternate explanation. He might as well say it. Delaying would only prolong his suffering. "I was wondering if you'd mind giving me advice about dating."

Gavin's eyes widened. For one long, painful moment, he didn't say anything, and his face was a blank, except for those wide eyes. Apollo made himself sit still and steady, though he wanted to cringe and sink into the floor. "My advice? About romance?" said Gavin at last. Then light spread across his face, and he smiled, like the sun rising. "But this is wonderful! I'd be happy to assist you."

His delight didn't make Apollo feel any more at ease. "Uh, thanks."

Gavin leaned in, a conspiratorial note in his voice. "And is there someone in particular--"

"No." Apollo cut him off before that line of questioning could get started. "I meant in general. Advice about dating in general."

Gavin nodded. "Very good. I understand." He bowed his head. "You don't need to worry. With my guidance, we will soon have women eating out of your hand."

Oh. Right. Apollo supposed he should say something about that.

"In fact," Gavin went on before Apollo had decided on his wording, "I know a fair number of women I could introduce you to, if you'd like. I'm sure any of them would be delighted to have a date with a handsome young attorney."

"Um," said Apollo.

"Tell me, do you have a 'type'?"

"Yes," said Apollo, seeing his chance to be succinct and seizing it. "Men."

Gavin hesitated for only a moment. "Ah, I see," he said. "Forgive my assumption. We will soon have men eating out of your hand, then."

Apollo nodded, though Gavin's confidence didn't lessen his own embarrassment. An unexpected distraction, however, did. Apollo blinked. His bracelet: it was--reacting? To Gavin? His gaze on the man sharpened, but he stopped himself. It wouldn't be fair. If Gavin was uncomfortable for some reason, that was his business, and Apollo wasn't going to pry.

"I have some work to finish up now," said Gavin lightly, as if nothing in the world was wrong, "but if you'd like to meet with me tonight--say, around seven?--we can begin your education."

Tonight? He hadn't thought Gavin would be able to help him that soon, the man was so busy. He remembered what Mr. Wright had said about Gavin putting a whole day aside for him. Maybe Mr. Wright had been right about that. "That would be fine."

"Good. I'll pick you up. Will I find you at Mr. Wright's agency?"

That would be easier than giving directions. "Yes, that's fine." It wasn't until Apollo was on the sidewalk outside, unlocking his bicycle, that he realized this meant he would have to tell Mr. Wright and Trucy that the prosecutor was picking him up. He was determined to heap embarrassment on his own head today, wasn't he?

***

"Is it a date?" asked Trucy for the third or fourth time.

"No, it's not a date!" Apollo snapped in reply, also for the third or fourth time.

"Then if you're not dating him, maybe I'll date him," she said.

"He's a little old for you, isn't he?" Apollo asked.

"He's older than you, too, Apollo."

"Only by two years! And I'm not dating him, I already told you that, so it doesn't even matter how old he is."

"Then maybe I should date him," said Mr. Wright, appearing from the back room. "Or do you think I'm too old for him?"

"Daddy, you can't date Mr. Gavin."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"You know why." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ah, that's right, I forgot. I can't date men you think are handsome." He winked at her.

Those two were so weird sometimes. Apollo pretended not to listen to them. They weren't making this any easier. It was hard to pretend, however, when Trucy stepped in front of him, commanding his attention. "I don't see why you'd date another boy if you could date Mr. Gavin."

"Because I don't want to!" Apollo shouted.

"Your voice is always so piercingly unmistakable, Herr Justice," said a voice that he'd been expecting to hear, but not so soon.

Apollo started and turned towards the door. "What? Don't you knock?"

Gavin gave no signs of being hurt by this less-than-warm reception. "I was expected. And the sign on the door did say 'open'."

"Oh yeah, I always forget to turn that sign around," Mr. Wright murmured to himself.

Apollo glared at him. "An agency doesn't need one of those signs, anyway."

Mr. Wright was unmoved by this criticism. "I think it adds a nice, welcoming touch."

Gavin did not join in this argument. "A pleasure to see you, Phoenix Wright, Fräulein." He nodded to each of them in turn. "And Herr Justice. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," he said, ignoring Trucy, who had stepped aside to where Gavin couldn't see her and was mouthing something about it being a date. At least she wasn't trying to show Gavin her newest magic trick.

"You two kids have fun," said Mr. Wright, but he had strategically waited until Apollo and Gavin were almost at the door, meaning that Apollo couldn't shoot him an irritated look without being obvious about it.

"Thanks, Mr. Wright."

"A lovely family," said Gavin as they left the office. Apollo couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic. The prosecutor generally seemed cheerful and sincere, but sometimes Apollo caught a trace of something else in his manner.

"Yeah, they're nice."

"I meant you as well."

"Oh. Right. Thanks." Sometimes he didn't know what to say to Gavin. They knew each other, but not all that well. Fortunately--or unfortunately--he was distracted from thoughts of his ineptitude by the sight of Gavin's motorcycle parked at the curb. Oh no. He was supposed to ride on that?

Gavin must have seen his face fall, for he said quickly, "Don't worry, I brought an extra helmet for you."

"But I can't--"

"Nonsense. I have people ride with me all the time. It's very easy and safe. All you have to do is hold on."

"Couldn't we go somewhere close by--and walk there?" Apollo suggested desperately.

"If you want my assistance, you must put yourself in my hands, Herr Justice. Trust me."

Apollo sighed. "You don't have to keep calling me that."

"Hm?" Klavier raised his eyebrows, and Apollo realized he'd been muttering to himself. "What was that?"

"I said," Apollo replied, raising his voice and speaking distinctly, "you don't have to call me Herr Justice. We're not in court."

"Ah. Very true! Then, while we are not acting in any official capacities, I will call you Apollo, and you will call me Klavier. Better, ja?"

"Yeah, that's definitely better."

Klavier was already at the motorcycle, helmets in hand. Apollo caught up to him, reluctantly. He accepted the helmet Klavier offered him. Like Klavier's own helmet, it was purple and emblazoned with a stylized G. Apollo hesitated.

"Do you need any help, Apollo?" Klavier asked, his voice low and teasing.

"No, I think I can manage to put a helmet on."

"I know what the problem is. Worried about your hair?" He laughed. "I think it'll spring right back up."

"I don't care about my hair!" said Apollo, with vehemence, and all but slammed the helmet down on his head.

He'd never ridden on the back of a motorcycle before. He was uneasy about it. It was so--close. Since he didn't know the prosecutor that well, it felt strange to wrap his arms around his waist. At least, once they were speeding down the street, the urgency of holding on overwhelmed his feeling of awkwardness.

"You don't have to hang on so tight!" laughed Klavier, raising his voice to be heard over the wind and the engine. "I'm not going to let you fall."

Apollo did not loosen his grip.

***

"Are you sure about this, Klavier?" Apollo asked.

"Sure, I'm sure! This is the perfect place for me to teach you good techniques."

Apollo glanced around the bar. Yes, it was a gay bar, and he understood what Klavier intended, but he didn't want to learn to pick up guys in bars. In fact, that was almost the opposite of what he wanted to learn to do. Not that he had any moral objection to picking people up in bars. It was fine! For other people. Like Klavier, for instance. Apollo couldn't help but notice that all gazes were already fixed on the recently retired rock star. He saw people murmuring to each other, and he could guess what they were saying: "Is that Klavier Gavin?" "Oh my god, it is!"

Apollo scratched the back of his head, nervously. "I don't know."

Klavier ignored him. "Come with me."

Though he was trying to formulate a better objection, Apollo followed him to the bar. A bartender appeared instantly, fawning, and Klavier turned to Apollo. "What will you have?"

"Oh. Orange juice."

"Orange juice? With?"

"Um, nothing?"

"I see." He smiled at the bartender. "A vodka tonic and a plain orange juice, bitte."

Apollo wondered if anyone had ever made drinks so quickly, though he guessed it wasn't hard to mix a plain orange juice. The bartender tried to refuse payment, but Klavier overtipped him outrageously, then leaned back against the bar and sipped at his drink. "Now, Apollo, look around and tell me what you see."

Apollo didn't need to look around, but he did so, dutifully. What he saw was a bunch of people drooling over Klavier, and a few disinterested people who already had someone else to drool over. In short, it did not look promising. "A bar," he told Klavier, trying not to sound miserable.

"Sometimes I think you don't have enough imagination. What you see before you is a room full of possibilities. Any one of these men might be your next lover or the love of your life. There's no way of telling."

Apollo was pretty sure he could tell.

Klavier leaned in closer. "Do you see anyone you like?"

Apollo did not. "I'm not sure."

"I see. Well then, can you tell me the kind of man you like?"

"Yes." Apollo brightened. He'd thought this over many times. "He should definitely be smart and funny. Like to read. Not obnoxious. Really sweet. And it would be great if he were a professional and we had a lot of interests in common, so we'd have a lot to talk about."

Klavier didn't say anything for a moment, and Apollo gave a start as, once again, he felt his bracelet respond to something the prosecutor was doing. He couldn't help it--it happened so naturally these days--he glanced over and very distinctly saw Klavier bite down on his lower lip. Before Apollo could say anything about it, Klavier asked, "And how about physically?"

That one took Apollo a second to answer. "Nice eyes?"

"Nice eyes. I see. That might be a bit more difficult to discern, with this dim lighting, but I'm sure we can find someone suitable." Klavier's gaze swept the room, then he nodded in the direction of someone Apollo could barely see. "How about him?"

"Why him?"

"I noticed him when we came in. He seems nice, and he's by himself."

"Uh, okay." Apollo wasn't feeling any better about Klavier's teaching methods, but he had asked him for his help, so he might as well attempt to follow his advice. "What should I do?"

"First of all, you must remember to smile. No matter what, don't stop smiling. And give compliments! That's very important. Find something about him to compliment, and mention it. Above all, you must remain confident. Approach the man in question with no hesitation. Show no sign of weakness. You must completely believe that you will achieve your goal."

"And what's my goal?"

"To win the man's interest."

"But I don't really want it."

"That's not the point, Apollo. I'm trying to teach you how to romance men. And as I said, you should keep your mind open to the possibilities. You never know who you might find yourself falling for."

"I just think it sounds mean."

One of Klavier's rare scowls shadowed his face. "It is not 'mean'. That is what people come here to do. To flirt and have a good time."

"Okay, okay. Sorry." The last thing he wanted to do was upset Klavier.

Klavier seemed placated by this. His scowl disappeared. "Do you feel ready to give it a try?"

"Not really. What should I say first? I'm bad at openings."

"How about 'hello'? That usually works."

"I know about hello," said Apollo. "I've got that part covered. I mean after that."

Klavier considered. "Maybe you should introduce yourself. And compliment his eyes."

"Are you completely sure about that?"

Klavier played idly with his hair as he nodded. "Yes, I think so."

Apollo swallowed. "Okay, I'll give it a try." He had a bad feeling about this. But it couldn't hurt, could it? He reminded himself that the busy prosecutor had set aside a whole evening for him. And he did want to get more comfortable around men he was interested in. That probably meant he should practice, right? He took a deep breath, steeling himself and trying his best to exude massive amounts of confidence, then walked over to the man Klavier had pointed out. What was the worst thing that could happen?

Mercifully, the ordeal was over quickly. The "hello" part went fine, but once he made the remark about the eyes, the man laughed at him. "Are you joking?" he asked. Face burning, Apollo turned on his heel and strode back to where Klavier was waiting.

Klavier took a sip of his drink. "How did it go?"

"I think you can probably guess."

"Not well? I'm sorry about that. This is all part of the process, you see. Nothing for it but to try again."

"No. No way."

"Oh no?" The prosecutor's face was unusually emotionless. "And why not?"

"Because. Your advice--is terrible!"

Klavier's eyes widened slightly, but he did not seem offended as he asked, "Is it?"

"Maybe it works for you, but that's because you're Klavier Gavin, and you're a rock star--or you were--and it's easy for you! People automatically like you. You don't even have to try."

"I suppose not."

"I don't want to go to bars and pick up guys," Apollo continued, annoyed that Klavier wasn't even bothering to disagree with him. "I don't like that kind of thing at all!"

Klavier made a quick, encompassing gesture with his hands. "But this is dating, Herr Justice. This is going out and meeting people. What is it that you want advice about, if not this?"

"Talking to guys, and--and I don't know. I don't even know, because I can't think!"

"The orange juice went right to your head, didn't it?"

"Very funny," said Apollo, but he didn't think it was funny at all.

"So, talking to guys. I can do that. Come." Klavier reached out to tap on the bar, indicating where Apollo should go. Apollo didn't know why he did as the man said, but he went to stand next to him. "Talk to me."

"What?"

"I'm a guy, in case you haven't noticed. Talk to me."

"But I know you already. It's not the same."

Klavier smiled again. "Then pretend. Pretend I'm someone else, someone you might like."

Apollo didn't pretend. His bracelet was reacting again, and he didn't know why. He stared at Klavier.

"Don't stare so much," Klavier chided him. "Men don't like that. Your gaze is very--intense."

"You know your advice is bad, don't you?" said Apollo slowly. It was difficult for him to believe that the prosecutor would intentionally deceive him, but it had to be true. What other explanation could there be for what he was sensing?

"What do you mean? Of course it isn't."

Klavier had bitten his lip again. Apollo had seen it, very clearly. "You're giving me bad advice on purpose," he said. "And I don't know why, but I don't like it. I should have listened to Mr. Wright instead--I mean, the first thing Mr. Wright said."

"What did Mr. Wright say?" Klavier asked.

Apollo wouldn't let him change the subject. "That doesn't matter now! That's not what I'm talking about, I said it by accident. You don't want to help me, so I don't know why you agreed to do this. I'm going home."

Klavier straightened, frowning. "No, don't go home. I'll help. I promise."

"No! I'm leaving!" Apollo headed for the door.

"Apollo, please stop." Apollo didn't stop. Klavier followed him out of the bar. "At least let me give you a ride home, Herr Justice--please."

"No. I'm going to take a walk. By myself." Apollo shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried down the sidewalk. He didn't look back--at least, he didn't want to look back, but he was unable to resist sneaking a single glance over his shoulder before he turned the corner on the next block.

Klavier was still there, standing alone beneath a streetlight, watching him leave.

***

Apollo slammed the door on his way into the office the next morning.

"What's the matter?" Mr. Wright asked, glancing up. He was sitting at the piano, as if he was contemplating playing it. He would have had to remove all the junk he'd piled on top of the poor instrument first, but it looked as if he was at least considering doing that.

"Nothing."

"Hmm," said Mr. Wright, then turned back to the piano.

"Hmm? That's all you have to say to me?"

"Huh?" Mr. Wright looked up again. "Was there something else you wanted me to say?"

"No, I guess not."

Mr. Wright picked up one of the knickknacks on top of the piano, examined it thoughtfully, then put it back down. Apollo wondered what he was trying to prove. "Oh yeah," Mr. Wright said at last, "how did the lesson with Gavin go?" He turned. He was almost smiling, but not quite. "That's what you wanted me to ask, wasn't it?"

Mr. Wright was at his most annoying when he was right. "It didn't go well. It was awful! First he took me to a bar, and I hate bars. They're too loud and crowded, and I don't like all the smoke. It's bad for my voice. Also, I don't like drinking."

Mr. Wright pursed his lips. "You know, Apollo, I don't think I'm too clear on your opinion of bars yet. Could you tell me a little more about it?"

Apollo ignored that sarcastic question, because that was what it deserved. "And then he gave me terrible advice. On purpose!"

"Really. That doesn't sound like him at all."

"That's what I thought, too! Why would he do something like that to me?"

"Apollo," said Mr. Wright, "let me give you a word of advice. Prosecutors--they're not like us. Defense attorneys--and once and future defense attorneys--we're plain, simple, hearty folk."

"We are?"

"We are. But not prosecutors. They're strange, delicate, unpredictable creatures. No one ever understands them, so don't begin to try."

What was he supposed to say to something like that? "I think you're the strange one."

Mr. Wright laughed and didn't deny it. Instead, he asked, "So why do you think he'd do something like that?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, what would possess a man to take you out to a bar and then foil your attempts to pick up other men?"

Apollo stared. When he put it like that, it sounded horrible. "But it wasn't like that. Not at all!"

"You don't think so?"

"But I--but I--but you said--?"

"Me? Don't go blaming this on me."

"I get it," said Apollo, trying to calm himself down, though he could already feel the sweat at his neck, making his collar stick to his throat. "This is one of your jokes." But he remembered. His bracelet. The tension. Klavier's teeth bearing down on his lower lip. The little things Klavier had said: Pretend I'm someone else, someone you might like. Oh god, what had he done?

"I do make a lot of jokes," Mr. Wright agreed, but his tone was not reassuring.

"It's not possible," Apollo protested. He knew what had happened, what he'd seen, but it didn't make sense. "I don't get it! Why couldn't he just tell me what he was thinking?"

Mr. Wright sighed and put a hand over his chest, in what Apollo felt was an uncalled for dramatic gesture. "Oh, young Apollo. What a grand adventure awaits you. I don't envy you."

"What should I do?" Apollo asked. He was starting to feel a bit frantic.

"Hey, you didn't want to follow my original good advice." Mr. Wright was not exactly brimming with sympathy. "Don't go asking me for more now."

"But then why did you give me that other bad advice on purpose?"

"Is that what I did?" Mr. Wright asked.

Apollo was coming to loathe the man's pointed questions. "Ugh. Okay. I guess I have to figure it out myself."

Phoenix turned back to his piano. He picked up another knickknack. This one, he set down on the ground. "I know how you feel," he said.

Apollo wondered if today would be the day Mr. Wright would finally start practicing. He wasn't about to bet on it, though he'd never seen the man succeed in moving one of the items on top of the piano before. "I'm going out," Apollo informed him.

Mr. Wright turned again, hand hovering over one of Trucy's trick cups. "Oh? How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"I'm not sure. A few hours, maybe?"

"More ambulance chasing?"

"Yeah, exactly. I'm gonna chase them down on my bike."

"Hey, that's good." Mr. Wright smiled. "I like to see some initiative from you, Apollo. Keep it up."

Apollo had no intention of chasing anything, but he hadn't been lying about riding his bike. He climbed on and cycled all the way to the Prosecutors' Office. It wasn't a long ride, and fortunately the weather was good, but his mood was less pleasant and made the route seem longer. Sometimes he questioned the wisdom of bicycling in his vest and tie, but what else was a lawyer to do? Once he'd found a place to chain up his bike and had taken a few deep breaths, he felt cooled down and relatively collected. He held his head up high as he entered the building.

Apollo didn't have any trouble finding Klavier. Klavier was right there, standing in the hall by the lobby, talking to someone. Apollo recognized the other man at once: what lawyer didn't know Mr. Edgeworth? Apollo stepped out of the way of the doors and stood next to one of the lobby's many tall potted plants. He didn't want to interrupt them. He tried very purposefully not to listen to anything they were saying, because he hated eavesdropping, but he couldn't help catching a few phrases.

"...wasn't a good idea," Klavier said, shortly followed by, "...so angry."

Were they discussing a case? Apollo looked for somewhere to stand where he would be less noticeable, so he wouldn't be suspected of spying, but unfortunately, his red suit and the muted colors of the lobby had nothing in common, and no matter what he did, he was going to stand out, just as Klavier and Mr. Edgeworth did. He considered ducking behind a plant, but that would have been silly. Instead, he strolled towards the wall in what he hoped was a casual fashion and pretended to examine the molding.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Justice?"

Apollo started and turned, to find himself pinned beneath the cold gaze of Miles Edgeworth. "Who, me?" he asked.

Mr. Edgeworth folded his arms over his chest. "Is there another Mr. Justice in the vicinity? I wasn't aware it was a common name."

"No," Apollo had to admit, "probably there's only the one."

The man looked him over consideringly. "So I see. And what do you want, Mr. Justice?"

"I wanted to talk to Mr. Gavin. Briefly. But I saw that you were already talking to him, and I didn't want to interrupt, so I thought I'd wait until you were done." He smiled hopefully.

Mr. Edgeworth did not return his smile. "As a matter of fact, Mr. Gavin and I were just concluding our conversation. Were we not?"

Klavier acknowledged this with a bow of his head. "Ja, Herr Edgeworth. I am very grateful for your counsel."

Mr. Edgeworth's smile was so small and brief, Apollo almost missed it. "I am always happy to advise a colleague." He opened his mouth to say something else, then paused and held up a hand. "One moment." He reached in his pocket and extracted his phone, which must have been set to vibrate. Both Apollo and Klavier waited as the man examined whatever message he'd received. His eyebrows rose, and he returned his phone to his pocket. "If you'll excuse me, I must be going. I have business to attend to."

"Sure!" said Apollo. "Nice to see you."

Mr. Edgeworth inclined his head. "And you, Mr. Justice." He turned to Klavier and inclined his head again. "Remember what I said, Mr. Gavin."

"Yes, of course. Thank you again."

The man exited the building briskly, and Apollo was left facing Klavier. "Uh, hi," he said.

"Yes, as you say--hi." Klavier's smile was polite, but not particularly warm.

"Look," Apollo began. "I'm--"

"No, it's all right." Klavier interrupted him. "You don't have to apologize. I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry I was rude and upset you. It wasn't my intention to cause you any distress."

As Apollo stood before the man himself, he began to doubt what Mr. Wright had hinted at, and what he himself had begun to suspect, back at the office. Klavier seemed coolly unconcerned, as usual. "Yeah, I kind of overreacted. I shouldn't have left like that." He paused. He wasn't sure what to think right now. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. Whatever you like."

"Why did you tell me that stuff--your advice, I mean?"

"Ah, my advice." Klavier slipped his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out again. He glanced around the lobby. It was relatively empty, but there were security guards on duty, and at this time of day, people kept coming and going through the doors. "Maybe we should discuss this in private. If you'll follow me."

Klavier's office was completely silent. Apollo remembered the man telling him that it was soundproofed. Again, Klavier did not take a seat. He offered one to Apollo, but this time Apollo decided to remain standing too.

Klavier seemed reluctant to begin speaking. He glanced at the walls and the window before he would meet Apollo's gaze. "You were right," he said at last, "my advice wasn't particularly good. What else could I tell you? There is very little genuine good advice. Not where matters of the heart are concerned. But when you asked me, I thought it would be a chance to get to know you better, so I agreed."

"You could have just said."

"Could I?"

Apollo blinked. There it was again, stronger than ever: his bracelet felt so tight on his wrist that it almost hurt. Apollo tried not to show his confusion. "Yes, you could have. Why not?"

"Why not?" Klavier shook his head, his tone incredulous. "You do everything you can to avoid me outside of the courtroom. You never make any effort to contact me. If I meet you in public, you hardly speak to me. Like the other day, when I saw you in the café. You couldn't get away from me fast enough."

"But you were on a date," said Apollo.

"No, I was not. I do go on dates, it's true, but that girl was a friend of mine. I have many friends."

Looking back, Apollo realized that he'd had no reason to assume they were dating, except for the fact that they'd been a man and a woman walking into a café together. She had had her arm in his, but Trucy was always taking him by the arm and pulling flowers out of his ear. "Oh. Sorry."

Klavier was not finished. "I don't understand it. Every time I ask you to do something with me, you politely refuse. At first, I thought it was because you weren't interested in men, and you were trying to be nice about it, but yesterday, you told me you're only interested in men. What was I to think? Obviously, nothing but that it is me in particular you are not interested in." Klavier sighed. "Which is fine. I may be confident, but I don't expect everyone to be interested in me. But I couldn't help it--I was curious. I had to know more, to know why it was you didn't have any interest in me. To know what kind of man it was that could command your attention."

"Are you serious?" All that time, Klavier had been pining for him?

"I am quite serious." It had to be true; Apollo could tell by looking at him. The customary smile had faded, and Klavier was regarding him with an open expression. Apollo had seen the man visibly upset only a few times. This was one of those times. "I don't know why I kept giving you that advice! I didn't know what else to do. It didn't seem like the worst advice ever. Honestly, I don't know what to tell you when it comes to romance. I've only had bad luck with it. I suppose, contrary to appearances, I'm not too good at it. Flirting and friendly dating, yes. Romance, no. So I am sorry for any inconvenience I caused you. It wasn't fair of me to take you out under false pretenses."

Apollo looked down at the ground. His face was burning, his heart beating quickly. He knew he had to say something now, but what? All he could think of was Mr. Wright's cliché advice: be yourself. What did that mean, from a practical standpoint? Maybe he was beginning to understand. He looked up again. Suddenly, he felt calmer. "That's all right. I forgive you."

Klavier's smile returned, though it was a dim shadow of itself. "I'm glad. We're friends, ja?"

"Ja--I mean, yes."

"Cool." Klavier extended his hand. "Let's shake on it, then."

Apollo looked at Klavier's hand but did not take it. "Can I tell you something first?"

Confusion made Klavier's smile falter, but he nodded. "What is it?"

"You have nice eyes."

Klavier's shock was visible. He all but recoiled with it. Being Klavier Gavin, however, he was able to recover quickly. His smile recovered, widening into something bright and genuine. "Do I? How very charming of you to notice."

It was funny, but all this time, the thought that Klavier would be interested in him had never occurred to Apollo. He hadn't even considered dating him, because Klavier had seemed to belong to another world entirely. He had so many interests, so many friends. Apollo had written off the times the man had gone out of his way to talk to him as the result of sheer friendliness. He'd been wrong. "The reason I came here was to ask you if you might be interested in going out with me sometime." Before Klavier could say anything in reply, he was quick to add, "But not to a bar."

"Yes, I take it you don't like bars. Fortunately, there are many other places in the world."

"So, do you want to go?"

"I would be delighted." Klavier stretched his hand out again. "Should we still shake on it?"

"All right." Apollo took his hand. Klavier's skin was warm, from his smooth palms to his callused guitarist's fingertips. Instead of shaking his hand, on an impulse, Apollo pulled Klavier close and rose up on the balls of his feet to kiss the other man on the cheek. Once he realized what he'd done, he drew back quickly, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"You shouldn't be sorry for that." Klavier was beaming. "In fact, you can do it again, if you want."

Apollo did just that. "You've got the nicest eyes," he murmured against Klavier's skin.

"The student has surpassed the master, I see." Klavier's laugh was low and sweet.

***

Phoenix rolled over onto his side, sliding his arm around Miles' waist and burying his face in Miles' hair as he indulged in spooning him. "You smell good."

"Thank you."

"Do you think I smell good?" Phoenix asked.

"I think you like fishing for compliments," Miles observed.

"Very funny." He ran his hands over Miles' bare stomach and was rewarded with a shudder of pleasure from the other man. "We've got at least an hour or so before Apollo comes back."

"I think we have a lot longer than that," said Miles.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"When I received your message, he was at the Prosecutors' Office with Mr. Gavin."

Phoenix laughed. "Yeah, I wondered if that was where he was going."

"That is indeed where he was. And I had just counseled Mr. Gavin to be honest with him."

"You did? Really? Wow, Miles Edgeworth giving advice to the lovelorn. That has got to be a first."

"For your information, Phoenix, people often ask me for my advice. Why, just the other day--"

"If this is going to be a story about Detective Gumshoe, you can stop telling it now." Phoenix was unsurprised when Miles did not finish his sentence, but made a quiet noise of displeasure. Phoenix knew better than to laugh. Instead, he said, "As a matter of fact, I was advising Apollo about the very same thing."

"Were you? And what was your advice?"

"I told him to be himself."

Miles snorted. "Be himself? What kind of advice is that? It's one of those clichés that doesn't even mean anything."

"Hey, it was good advice!" Did Miles have to criticize absolutely everything? "The best advice I know. Like 'be honest' is any better."

"At least honesty is a specific concept, making it an instruction that can be easily followed."

"I think being yourself is pretty specific."

"Why do you have to be so difficult, Phoenix?" Miles snapped.

Phoenix could feel Miles' arms moving to fold themselves over his chest, so he held on to them gently, preventing the gesture. "Me? I'm not the one being difficult."

"Yes, you are."

"Fine, Miles. I'm always the one who's boorish and mistaken."

Miles didn't say anything. Those arms of his still wanted to cross. Phoenix could feel the tension in them. He knew he was going to be in trouble if he didn't give in, so he did--sort of. "I guess they mean the same thing, more or less," he admitted at last.

"Maybe you're right. Although my advice was more concrete."

"Yes, Miles, your advice was astoundingly concrete."

"I'm going to ignore your sarcasm, Phoenix."

Phoenix laughed and nuzzled Miles' neck. He could feel the tension leave Miles' arms. Good. That was better. "You're so cute when you ignore my sarcasm."

"Thank you."

"It's cute when you say 'thank you', too."

Miles was silent in reply, as Phoenix's remark had effectively blocked him from saying 'thank you' again. Phoenix was glad Miles' back was to him, because he couldn't suppress a grin. "Anyway, I hope things work out between those two. I think they'll be good for each other."

"I suppose so."

"It's a good thing I decided to work on setting them up."

"You? I was the one who--"

Phoenix moved his hands again, this time sliding them up over Miles' chest. Whatever Miles had been about to say remained unsaid, replaced by a quick indrawn breath. Phoenix kissed the back of his neck. "And now that they've finally figured each other out, they're bound to find us out sooner or later."

"You know," said Miles, "we could simply tell them, Phoenix."

"Come on. It's funnier this way. I mean, I thought they would have figured it out already, but they're a lot denser than I gave them credit for."

"You have an odd sense of humor."

"Possibly true. But at least I give good advice." He knew Miles was going to argue with him on that point, so he was quick to give him another kiss, and then another--to which Miles had no objections.