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Just A Little Game of Poker, Wright	By : Blackwidina Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 1618 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Ace Attorney series, and I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Apollo closed his eyes for only a second, but apparently, that was long enough for him to be carried upstairs, laid out on a couch in the owner's office, and divested of his hat. The next thing he was aware of was Phoenix's voice softly urging him to wake up, worry evident in his tone. He felt fingers stroking his bangs, which limply framed his face without the usual gel holding them up.
And speaking of limp, if he ever got a hold of that bastard that clocked him . . .
He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the overhead light that was in his eyes. "Whazzafurmugle?" he asked, willing his vision to clear.
The blob in front of him sharpened up just as Phoenix broke into a relieved grin, despite what looked like a painful split lip. "You okay, Polly?"
The nickname reminded Apollo of the burning question he'd been asking himself since about the third round of cards: "Why the hell have you been bringing Trucy to these games, if shit like this happens?"
Nick laughed, "I promise, she's never been there for an actual fight. Something about a little girl in the room seems to keep even the baddest of baddies from taking a swing at her daddy. I guess you don't inspire the same sort of mercy."
Apollo pulled himself slowly into a sitting position, trying to ignore the ache in his head. "Yeah, no one seems to think twice about beating up a hobo and his boy toy."
The other had the decency to blush a little. "You know, trying to argue with them would just have egged them on."
He shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't change that it was annoying. I don't like being made fun of, but I'd rather be made fun of for something that's true rather than something that isn't."
Phoenix actually opened his mouth to make a reply, but seemed to think better of it. He blushed, though; Apollo didn't need his bracelet to see it. ". . . Do you think you're ready to go home?"
"Uh . . . sure." Deliberately avoiding thinking too hard, Apollo numbly followed Phoenix out of the cramped office and out to the curb. To his surprise, the man stopped and waved down a passing cab. "Mr. Wright? I don't think-"
"Phoenix. And I just got paid, remember?"
"Not really," Apollo admitted as the slid into the seat. "Last thing I saw was a bunch of guys who seemed really determined that they were going to get their money back."
Phoenix glanced pointedly at the driver before responding, "Yes, well, that's the thing about donations. If you pledge a certain amount in a fit of altruism, you can't just take it back once you start feeling selfish again."
He was hard pressed not to laugh, "Right."
"Hmm?"
"Uh, I meant, sure."
The cab pulled up in front of the office, and Phoenix tugged on Apollo's wrist, "C'mon. Trucy will be up waiting, and she won't go to bed 'till she sees both of us."
"Welcome ho—oh! Polly! Your face! Daddy, you were supposed to watch out for him!"
"Hey, I didn't hit him! And wait, look at me! I've got a black eye and a busted mouth. Where's my sympathy?"
"The same place mine was when you laughed at me getting flash paper burns."
"That was when you were ten!"
"C'mere, Polly, sit down on the couch. Daddy'll get you an ice pack, won't he?"
"Yeah, yeah . . ." Phoenix shuffled off to the kitchen.
Trucy fussed over Apollo (and eventually Phoenix as well) like a mother hen, conjuring a bottle of painkillers and two glasses of water, poking fun at Apollo's lack of hair gel, making them sit on the couch and tell her what happened, who did what, Mr. Petrov's intervention, etc. Apollo wanted to know if that was his real name, and was relatively unsurprised to find it was a nickname, as was Anya.
"Wait, the dealer? What happened to her?"
Phoenix's face turned into a grim smirk. "She's been fired, and the boss'll no doubt make sure her picture makes the rounds of the poker community."
"You know, in the span of time I've known you, that's the second shady dealer."
"You do realize that we're dealing with a group of people who break the law for a living, right?"
". . ."
"It's true!" Trucy chirped happily, "It's like Daddy told me about the bar. He got all serious one day and said, 'Remember Truce, what you see is what you get. If some guy tries to pick you up after a show, this is a guy who goes to bars to pick up underage girls.'"
That . . . made sense, but Apollo felt a sudden desire to attend Trucy's next show with a baseball bat. In any case, he also pointed out, "Yeah, but appearances are deceiving, right? Look at your dad. He looks like a creep-"
"I prefer the term 'hobo,' thank you."
"-but you and I both know that he's actually a nice guy, right?"
Trucy put on a mock-serious face, "I don't know . . . he is kind of mean."
"Hold it!" Phoenix protested.
Apollo nodded, "That's true. Look at the way he plays chess master with everybody."
She nodded, "He's definitely evil mastermind material!"
"Objection!"
"And just think of all those poor people at the Borscht Bowl that he made listen to him play . . ."
"And he won't let me keep Bullets in the office!"
"I said objection, dammit!" That earned them the legendary pointer finger.
"Listen to that mouth, Trucy. Is that the vocabulary of a nice guy?"
The two of them finally burst into laughter when they glanced over and saw the man sulking, and after a moment, he joined in as well.
"All right, if you're done, I think it's time for bed."
Apollo started, "Oh! Right, I guess I'd better head on home."
Trucy immediately protested, insisting that, with his injuries, he needed to stay overnight. Apollo wanted to protest, but couldn't figure out a way to do so that wouldn't end up with either Trucy or Phoenix wanting to know why. Within a few minutes, he was in the bathroom, changing into another set of Phoenix's sweats, and wincing at the spectacular bruise that was forming on the left side of his face. Thank God he didn't have court
By the time he re-entered the office, the hide-a-bed was out, and Trucy was, once again, generously providing an extra pillow. Nick ambled off to the bathroom, and Apollo was—literally, and for the first time in years—being tucked into bed.
"You're not planning on making me levitate, are you?" he teased as she fussed with the blankets.
She grinned, "It'd be like sleeping on a cloud!"
He groaned.
"You know, it's odd, but with your bangs framing your face, you look . . . familiar."
"I should hope so," he teased.
She laughed, "No, I'm serious!"
Phoenix cleared his throat, causing them to jump with surprise. "C'mon, Truce. It's late." He saw her off to bed, and then turned off the office lights and crawled in with Apollo.
Great. Just great.
Apollo could already feel his cheeks heating as he remembered his thoughts from the previous night. He hoped that his boss would just drop off straightaway like the last time.
Instead, of course, Phoenix rolled so that they were facing. Before Apollo could make up his mind whether to just close his eyes and feign sleep or roll over and risk seeming rude, the other's hand slowly extended and fingertips slowly touched his cheekbone.
Apollo froze. He couldn't even breathe. Why was . . .?
"Sorry. For this."
The soft, sincere apology confused Apollo for a moment before he remembered the bruise. Oh. Right. Focus, Justice. "It's . . . it's not your fault, really. And it's not like you didn't get hurt, too."
Phoenix 'hmmed' distractedly, still stroking Apollo's cheek. "I'm used to it."
Apollo managed a weak smirk, "All part of the risk of being a poker player, huh?"
A laugh. "Hell, I was taking shots as a lawyer, too. I had one guy not only punch me, but get me on the stand for the murder he committed." Phoenix snickered again at the look on Apollo's face. "I won, obviously."
"Uh . . . obviously."
"So . . . any questions?"
"Qu-questions?"
Phoenix smiled, "I think it's safe to say you helped me win a few hands."
Apollo's mind started racing, trying to think of something good to ask. There was one thing that was bothering him: "How did you know the other guy and the dealer cheated?"
Nick shifted, looking a little smug. "You did notice the extra Queen, right?" he teased.
He rolled his eyes, "Don't play dumb. You knew before the cards were down. How?"
"Ah. That's one of my super gambling secrets. It's like being a magician, I can't tell just anyone." At Apollo's pout, he smirked again. "All right, all right. I guess you count as special."
"Why can I sense a short bus joke in there somewhere?"
"I was counting the cards."
"Wait, what? I thought that was a blackjack trick."
"That kind of card counting is designed for Vegas, with multiple decks mixed in together. I just kept track of what was in our two decks. I'd noticed that as the night went on, I was seeing duplicate cards. I thought at first the dealer was shuffling badly, but when I saw two tens of hearts in two consecutive hands on the fifth game—which was the third game for the blue deck—I knew she was adding cards."
"Adding cards? How? I thought they were two different colors just to avoid that?" Hell, Phoenix's last murder charge had hinged on it!
Phoenix sniggered. "Polly, if we only had the two decks, we'd have gone out of business after Zak's death. We've got plenty of card decks locked up in the restaurant office, and only Pavel, the dealer, and I have access to them. She probably grabbed a few high cards and was feeding them into the deck as she dealt to my opponents. However, once the game was over, it would have been difficult to get back out, so she just had to hope I didn't notice."
"Wow. I think I never want to play professionally. You're tough enough."
Phoenix shrugged, "I've got a gift for flying by the seat of my pants. M-Miles-" he paused for a moment, and Apollo was able to see a faint cringe in the brown eyes, "He . . . he used to say that God protects children and fools, and that's the only reason Larry and I have survived so long."
Apollo had so many things he wanted to ask about, but the only thing he could say to the look in Phoenix's eyes was a soft, "Why isn't he here, with you?"
Phoenix's hand jerked away, and even in the dark, he flushed. Apollo's bracelet was digging into his wrist, forcing him to see the faint lines of pain on his face. He felt immediately sorry for asking, but he felt like he couldn't, shouldn't let the man retreat into himself. Scooting forward a little, he reached out and laid a hand on Phoenix's shoulder, a little surprised at himself for being so forward. He wasn't used to . . . touching people, no matter the circumstances.
"Phoenix, I know . . . I mean, it's not my business, but I . . . I figured it out, and . . . I just . . ," he struggled to find the right words. "I guess I can't understand why you're so alone. It's not fair! I mean, you're . . ." He trailed off, aware that he was blushing enough to probably outshine a lava lamp. Nick's shoulder under his hand was tense, and his eyes were cold, but he had this odd sense that he was comforting the man, even if just a little.
"You're right," Phoenix said, very quietly. "Miles and I . . . we were together. As much as we could be, I guess."
"As much as you could be?"
"Miles went abroad to study law, so he was gone a lot. He'd come to visit, but . . . well, he was gone when I got disbarred. He's got some pretty tight connections over here, so he was informed immediately of what happened—I think Gumshoe called him. He flew back, but it was too late." His brows furrowed. "He tried to help, but the committee started dropping hints that maybe his previous cases needed to be looked over, since he was clearly fraternizing with a known forger."
"But—!" Apollo was set to explode when a hand clamped over his mouth.
"Hey, Trucy's in bed. Technically, we're supposed to be sleeping, too." Apollo hummed an apology, and Phoenix released him. "In any case, we had a falling out soon after. He didn't approve of me quote unquote 'giving up,' like I did. And he didn't approve of me taking Trucy in."
Apollo gasped. "I thought that was the bravest thing I'd ever heard!" he hissed, trying to be quietly outraged.
"Miles disagreed. He thought I was being overly sentimental, which I may have been. I couldn't see putting her in an orphanage—ah, um, sorry, I-"
"It's fine."
"Trucy gave me something I needed. She's the only reason I was able to keep going. I mean, my friends were calling and coming by, but Trucy was there, literally all the time. Every morning when I woke up, I couldn't just lay in bed and cry, I had to get up and make her breakfast. I couldn't just wallow in my misery. I had to keep things going, get a job, move out of my apartment, everything. A child is a powerful motivation.
"And she believed in me, more than anyone else. There was never a question in her mind that, if we worked together, we'd be fine." Phoenix was smiling again, love shining in his eyes in a way that made Apollo's throat tighten with emotion. It was rare that Phoenix actually seemed like a parent when Trucy was involved, but in this moment, it was as blatant as one of Klavier's come-ons.
"I'm glad you did," he teased gently. "I might have liked you a lot less without her to be a buffer."
Phoenix laughed then, "I think I'd like me a lot less, too." He grew quiet, then, but his eyes were still shining with mirth. "Thanks. Things have really changed for the better lately, and it's because of you."
Oh God, he was blushing again, "Uh . . . I—I didn't-"
"You did. When I was on the stand, you really believed that I couldn't have done it. Believing in your client is the most important part of being a defense attorney. And being a friend." He gently poked Apollo's forehead. "Now, enough of that. We need to go to sleep."
Unable to speak, Apollo just nodded and snuggled further into his borrowed pillow. All the emotional sharing—not to mention the night's earlier events, were taking their toll, and he was pretty sure he could actually fall asleep now. Even if his stomach was so full of butterflies that he felt like he might puke.
As he started to drift, another question surfaced in his mind. "Hey, Nick?"
"Hmm?"
"Why grape juice?"
A sleepy grunt that may have been a laugh. "Trucy's idea. So that I wasn't drinking anything else."
And finally, a long-time mystery, solved. Apollo fell into sleep, feeling content.
FIN
Thanks to everyone who's read so far! I know, I know, I didn't get them as far as I was hoping I would, _ but I've learned never to mess with my muses. If they say it's not time, it's not time. Trust me, I'm as disappointed as you are.
That being said, this isn't the end of the JustWright universe, oh no. I've got plot bunnies coming out of my ears. Now that Phoenix and Apollo are starting to open up to each other, I definitely see some significant confessions here in the near future. In fact, excuse me; I have some more wrighting to do.
I mean, writing.
Good god, this series has taken over my brain...
P.S. For reference, what Phoenix said about Trucy, I believe to be especially true. I'm a single mom, and I was dumped by my husband while I was pregnant. My daughter is the reason I fight so hard to give us a better life, rather than just coast along like I probably would if it were just me. So, in essence, I guess this is dedicated to my daughter, Kelsa Rose. <3
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Just A Little Game of Poker, Wright