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*Crack*

Summary:

As the updater on anon_press put it, "During a trial Simon gives hair-birth to some chicks."

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Apollo hadn't believed it when Mr. Wright had told him (after being told by Mr. Edgeworth) that Prosecutor Blackquill was in the family way.

Mostly because Apollo was one of the few people in his social group who had common sense. Babies didn't form in people without wombs. He was pretty sure Prosecutor Blackquill wasn't trans, but it wasn't any of his business, if so.

But seeing him across the courtroom, he'd started to wonder. The other man carried himself almost gently (though he didn't waddle), as if he were being cautious about something that pained him, or maybe like his outfit was really expensive, and he didn't want to mess it up. Or like he was afraid he'd hurt a growing baby.

His face was fuller, too. Apollo couldn't tell from a quick glance at Prosecutor Blackquill's silhouette (he couldn't risk more than that, or he knew Blackquill would catch on and get pissed) that anything was gestating in there or anything. But maybe he hid it well. Prosecutor Blackquill did love his layers.

His hair was like obsidian, it was so shampoo-commercial glossy. Even though he'd had it trimmed, it had quickly grown back to its former length (and beyond). The prosecutor pinned his hair up halfway in a bun.

So, against his better judgement, Apollo found himself believing it during a trial.

The prosecutor had clutched his chest and was breathing heavily. Apollo felt his guts sink into his shoes.

Is he gonna have the baby right here? Please, do not make me the one who helps him deliver it. I bet he wants his bird to cut the cord. . .

Blackquill growled and looked around him. "An incubator! Quickly!" When his demands were not heeded, he glared at the judge.

"Your Baldness, unless you fancy the death of innocents on the floors of your court, I recommend bringing me what I requested!"

The judge, somewhat miffed but ever-curious, called forth a bailiff.

Blackquill continued to hold his chest and pant. Apollo'd never seen him so upset, or in such pain. He almost wanted to go over to his side and try to offer some comfort.

Not that the prosecutor would want it.

A bailiff ran in a few minutes later, wheeling an incubator and leading a person in scrubs behind him. The bailiff pointed to Prosecutor Blackquill, who looked increasingly worried.

Guess I wouldn't want my kid to be born on a courtroom floor, either.

As the incubator came to rest near Blackquill, his eyes flashed. "You prats!" he rebuked the bailiff. "This will have to do," he said to himself, examining the controls.

If the courtroom hadn't been in such an uproar over the events, perhaps a tiny sound that would have explained everything would have enlightened them. Instead, misunderstanding reigned until, smiling, Prosecutor Blackquill cupped his hands gently to the bun in his hair and lowered them both into the incubator.

Apollo leaned forward to see a newly-hatched chick peeping inside the incubator. It wasn't particularly cute, all naked and pink and with only ugly bits of feathers to cover it, but Prosecutor Blackquill sure seemed pleased with it.

"The others should follow within twelve hours," Prosecutor Blackquill informed the onlookers, and smiled the only true smile Apollo had ever seen him give at the helpless, tiny chick in the incubator.

This was going to be a long trial.

Notes:

Just to be clear, Simon is cis here, and not pregnant. He was just incubating bird eggs in his hair because he's Simon. The "pain" Apollo thinks he's witnessing is worry about the chicks.

My sincere apologies to the original requester, who just wanted pregnant Simon looking healthy/glowing and people being curious about who the other parent was.