Work Text:
September XX, 20XX
XX:XX p.m.
Los Angeles Prosecutor’s Office
Klavier Gavin stood in the hallway of the Prosecutor’s Office. He and defense attorney, Apollo Justice, chatted while sipping from their drinks of choice. All was going well that day; Apollo had won his latest trial and Klavier had met another cute girl, much to Apollo’s dismay.
“Gavin,” he hissed, "how do you know she's the one for you? She's probably just using you for your fame or something-”
“Nonsense, Herr Justice!” Klavier smiled. “She's different from the others. I can tell… from her eyes.” The man's eyes went distant, as if seeing the girl in front of him then. Apollo rolled his eyes and looked away, only to choke on his water.
Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth were walking into the Prosecutor’s Office, arguing like their lives depended on it. Having spotted the men first, Apollo quickly turned away, scared for his own life. Klavier, on the other hand, smirked, knowing the younger man was scared of Miles Edgeworth, or at the very least, the prosecutor's skills. He quickly grabbed Justice's shoulder and pulled him back to where he had been standing originally. “Herr Edgeworth, Herr Wright! Guten tag! How is the lovely couple today?”
Miles Edgeworth went the slightest shade of pink at the mention of him and Wright as a couple. The poor man still wasn't used to the fact that he was Phoenix Wright’s boyfriend. However, he quickly regained his composure.
“We would actually appreciate a bit of insight from you two,” Edgeworth replied. He glared at Phoenix. “Wright and I seem to be in a bit of a…” He paused. “...predicament.”
Phoenix scoffed. “More like a fight,” earning a glare from the man beside him.
Klavier's eyes widened. When he'd wanted to mess with Apollo, he hadn't wanted to mess with his boss's relationship in the process. Apollo was standing beside him, sweating nervously. Klavier glanced at him for help, earning only a glare. “I'm sorry, sir, but we wouldn't want to get involved in your personal life-”
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “It isn't personal, it's a math problem.”
Apollo let out a series of frightened stutters while Klavier cringed. “Even worse.”
Phoenix sighed, using his free hand to massage his forehead in frustration. “Last night, Edgeworth and I had dinner together for the first time in two weeks, thanks to the cases that have been keeping us on our toes.”
“And someone thought it would be fun to spoil our date with an inane math problem,” Edgeworth interrupted, glaring at his spiky-haired partner. “to which his answer is wrong.”
“Enough foreplay, let's get to the numbers,” Apollo interrupted. Suddenly, when Klavier looked over at him, he had a notepad and pencil in hand.
“It's called the Monty Hall problem,” Edgeworth began. “Imagine you're on a game show. There are three doors, behind one of which is a car.”
Phoenix continues, “You pick a door. The host, who knows which door the car is behind, opens a different door, showing that there is nothing behind it. The host then asks if you'd like to choose another, unopened door. Should you do it?”
“No!” Edgeworth finishes.
“Yes!”
“It's simple math!” They both say at the same time.
“It doesn't make any sense to switch,” says Edgeworth. “The prize is now behind one of two doors, it's a 50/50 chance either way.”
“It's two thirds if you switch, one third if you don't. The probability locks in when you switch,” Phoenix retaliates. “We've been over this eight times!”
“Seven,” Edgeworth corrects him. “It's only been seven times. Now you can't even do simple addition.”
“Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth,” Apollo looks up from his calculations on his notepad. “but I think Mr. Wright is… well, right.”
Phoenix snickers at the pun, while Edgeworth glares at Apollo darkly, causing the younger man to cower under the eyes of his superior. He quickly turns around, and speedwalks out of the office. The other three men watch, astounded, as he steps into a blindingly red sports car and drives away.
“Wait… he was my ride!” Phoenix runs out of the office, yelling at the red sports car now far off in the distance.
Klavier grins. “I've never seen him get so mad. That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, wasn't it, Herr Forehead?”
Apollo rolls his eyes, still flushed with fright and embarrassment, and walks away to get more water.
The next day, Apollo and Klavier stood in the lobby, once again chatting about their latest cases. Both men had more or less forgotten about the incident of the day before. Edgeworth walked into the office alone this time, prompting a greeting from Apollo. “Good morning, Mr. Edgeworth.”
“No, it's not.” Apollo and Klavier looked at the older man in confusion. “I haven't slept because of that idiotic math problem. Now I finally understand Wright's side.”
“Ah, I see!” Klavier grinned. “So it's all better and we never have to hear about math again?” Klavier seemed to have a hatred for math that Apollo didn't quite understand.
“Quite the opposite, actually. Now, I see more than ever how incorrect he is.” Edgeworth smirked, recalling the night's events, in which he and Wright had argued over teaching each other statistics of different grades. (“Do I have to teach you 8th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you 7th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you-”)
The two younger men traded expressions, while Edgeworth finished, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to leave Wright a snide voicemail about teaching him kindergarten statistics.”
As Edgeworth walked away, Apollo and Klavier glanced at each other, confused. Finally Apollo shrugged. “Well, at least I didn't piss him off that time.”
“Honestly, those two just need to bone.” Klavier said to no one in particular.
“Gavin!” Apollo made a face. “That is your boss!” Klavier shrugged, smiled deviously, and sipped at his water.
Edgeworth walked into the office the next day, only to find Apollo Justice under a table.
“Mr. Justice,” Edgeworth began, “may I ask why exactly you are… underneath a table?”
“I dropped my bracelet and I can't seem to find it, sir,” he replied.
Edgeworth cocked an eyebrow. “Did you see where it went?”
“Actually,” Apollo came out from underneath the piece of furniture, holding a small diorama depicting three doors. “I think it's behind one of these doors. Why don't you pick one?” He asked, gesturing at the mini doors.
Edgeworth raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Mr. Justice, I would rather not bring this Monty Hall problem from my personal life into my work life as well. At this rate, the Monty Hall problem will take over my life in little to no time at all!” Apollo flinched and grinned awkwardly, scratching his neck.
Behind Apollo, Klavier sighed. “The math isn't the problem sir. These cases are keeping you and Wright apart. You two just need to bone.”
Apollo let out a scared whimper, and Edgeworth gave Klavier a look that left Apollo sweating, even though the look was not directed at him. “What did you say?”
“Don't say it again,” Apollo whispered, loud enough for only Klavier to hear.
Klavier smirked. “I said,” he raised his voice just barely, “you two need to bone. ” Apollo flinched, and the look from Edgeworth escalated to a dark glare.
“How dare you, Prosecutor Gavin-” Edgeworth's voice raised with every word he spoke- “I am your superior prosecutor!”
With that, the man launched into a frenzy of scolding. He paced the room, later walking over to the hallway gripping the edges of the door frame, and yelling, “BONE!” each time, with increasing intensity.
Nearly ten minutes later, Apollo and Klavier stood face-to-face, Edgeworth scolding the two with a dark red blush.
“What happens in my bedroom, Prosecutor Gavin, is none of your business!”
Another ten minutes later, he began yelling “BONE!” even louder than before. All the while, Apollo whimpered and curled into himself on the couch. Klavier tried to comfort him by wrapping an arm around him, though he couldn't seem to wipe that smirk off his face.
In the end, after a long time of shouting, scolding, and wildly gesticulating at the doorway, Edgeworth finally left Klavier and Apollo, Apollo face down on the coffee table in front of him. “Don't ever speak to me like that again.” He finished and left.
After the Chief Prosecutor had left the lobby, Apollo looked up at Klavier, hands shaking. “Your boss is so scary…”
Klavier chuckled, one hand on the other man's back. “Don't worry. He's much nicer once you get to know him.”
“Why did you do that, anyways?” Apollo whispered, leaning against Klavier.
“Herr Edgeworth was pent up. Now he knows,” Klavier grinned. “Maybe he'll actually do something about it this time around.”
Apollo sighed and put his head in his hands.
“Good afternoon, Herr Edgeworth!” Klavier grinned at the Chief Prosecutor entering the office.
Apollo sipped his water. “You're unusually late, sir. By the way, I contacted a math professor about the Monty Hall problem-”
“No need.” Edgeworth held up a hand, almost shooing the younger man away.
“You solved the problem?”
“No.”
The younger men glanced at each other from across the room. Apollo began blushing a deep red when Klavier began to ask-
“So you two-”
“Yes,” Edgeworth replied quickly and began his trek up the stairs.
Klavier grinned at the other man from across the room. A silence overcame the room until-
“Our bosses had se-”
“Shut up!”