Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For all that Clay Terran and Apollo Justice had been best friends since middle school, neither of them had actually gotten to see the other one working in his chosen profession. Oh, they'd visited each other at student side-jobs: waiting tables, pizza delivery and the like; but not at their adult careers that they'd spent years studying for. In Clay's case, this wasn't surprising – he was in training at GYAXA to eventually become an astronaut, and it wasn't as if the facility was open to random interested parties for visits. But Apollo was a lawyer, and it shouldn't have been too difficult for Clay to pop into his office or watch him in court.

Well, it wouldn't have been too difficult if Clay worked more standard hours. However, his astronaut training at GYAXA took up far more time than any typical full-time job. He was expected to pursue an advanced degree in astrophysics as well as keeping himself in shape for zero gravity, and learning everything there was to know about flying the rocket and maintaining its systems. Clay didn't mind working hard – becoming an astronaut was his vocation and his dream – but he did mind that he'd never managed to support his friend in court (not that Apollo really needed any support).

One Thursday, however, the rocket simulator was down for a much-needed software upgrade, and he didn't have a class until the evening. After putting in his required daily two-hour workout, Clay decided the best course of action would be to get as far away from GYAXA as possible. Aura Blackquill, the Space Center's resident engineer, was already stalking around the place looking angry and hitting her robots. She had never been physically violent towards a human – but her tongue was sharp enough, and he didn't want to get on her bad side when she was already stressed out.

So he escaped from his workplace, sent a quick text to his best friend, and drove his beaten-up little car down to the local courthouse. Apollo had left a day pass for him at the main entrance, along with a short note explaining that his case would be heard in Courtroom No. 3. The pass gave Clay the same privileges as someone who worked in the courthouse, allowing him to skip the queues for the metal detector and security screening. Other visitors to the court looked rather angry as he swanned by them in his ripped GYAXA t-shirt, blue combat trousers, uniform jacket and ever-present visor. Well, sucks to be them. They should have arrived earlier.

He arrived at the courtroom at 9.50am, ten minutes before the hearing was due to start. Though Apollo hadn't had time to tell him anything about the case, other than that it was the third day so bound to wrap up soon, Clay easily figured out who the prosecutor was. For the viewing gallery was absolutely packed with teenage girls and young women, and there was only one man who inspired that kind of devotion - Prosecutor Klavier Gavin, the former rockstar and teenage idol. Not only were the majority of the women arranged on the centre and left side of the gallery to have the best view of the prosecution's bench on the right, many of them were also wearing the pointed G-logo of Klavier's former band, the Gavinners. Given that he had been internationally famous, Clay already knew a lot about Gavin in the context of music. But he also felt strangely familiar with Prosecutor Gavin, the lawyer, simply from listening to Apollo's tales about him.

Apollo complained about all the prosecutors – that was part of being a defence attorney, as Clay understood it. Tempers ran high and insults flew in court between the opposing teams as they argued their case. That was normal. Some prosecutors even seemed to care more about their win record in court than ensuring that the correct person was found guilty. Just the idea of this could enrage his friend to the point of sheer apoplexy.

Apollo’s complaints about Klavier Gavin, though, seemed on an entirely different wavelength. Other prosecutors were guilty of such crimes as withholding evidence from the defence, “forgetting” to pass on an updated autopsy report, and attacking the defence attorneys with such varied implements as a whip, conductor's baton, and bird of prey. Prosecutor Gavin, however, was guilty of “being too pretty”, air guitaring in court, and failing to do up all of the buttons of his shirt. There was a distinct lack of actual malice in Apollo’s grumbles about the former rockstar. Clay thought that difference was very interesting, though he didn’t have enough evidence to be certain of what it meant.

Apollo entered the courtroom at 9.52am, and Clay – as possibly the only person more interested in the defence than the prosecution – waved frantically to him. Apollo was looking good today. He was wearing what had become his habitual Court Suit – his smart red waistcoat and slacks along with a pressed white shirt and cyan blue tie. He'd once worried about looking too childlike with his short stature and baby face in an oversized suit jacket, and simply gone without it until he could afford to get the jacket professionally altered. By now he surely could afford the tailoring, but he continued as he always had – waistcoat alone with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It was effectively his trademark. Apollo glanced up as Clay called down to him, and his entire face lit up when he saw his friend there in the gallery to support him.

Prosecutor Gavin entered the courtroom at 9.56am, to an obnoxiously loud chorus of cheers from the waiting Gavinners' fans. This was Clay's first chance to see the man close-up, in person rather than on a poster or TV, and he was very curious to know what Klavier the lawyer looked like. It turned out that he was just as unfairly good-looking in person as he was in pictures. His clothes were obviously expensive, and tailored to show off his body to the best possible advantage. His hair was golden, his skin was golden-brown, and his eyes were a brilliant blue; and while his looks could have been enhanced with hair dye, make-up, or coloured contact lenses, his basic bone structure – those cheekbones – had to be real. Clay suddenly understood why so many Gavinners' fans still flocked to the courthouse even after the band had split up. He himself wasn't even attracted to men, yet he still found it strangely exciting to be close to the singer whose music he'd loved for so many years. In fact, sitting in the courtroom gallery was likely closer to Klavier than a fan would ever have gotten at a concert, unless they'd been extremely lucky with tickets.

Gavin acknowledged his fans with a dazzling smile and a wave, but almost immediately sobered as he set a number of manila files down on his desk. Though he'd grinned and winked at the crowd, he frowned at his paperwork as he spread it out across the bench. Clay was surprised at the former rockstar's serious demeanor. Then again, he had always protested in interviews that being a prosecutor was his real job and music was only a hobby. Maybe there was some truth in that after all? According to Apollo, Gavin was the only prosecutor who seemed to actively work with the defence rather than against them, so perhaps what he cared about most of all was ensuring that justice was done.

Clay considered himself very mature and sophisticated for managing not to make an innuendo – even in his head – about “doing” Justice.

The defendant was brought in by security guards – Clay thought they were called court bailiffs – and placed in the dock ready for the day's proceedings. The Judge came in at 10.00am exactly. He asked each lawyer if they were ready – Apollo replied politely in the affirmative, Klavier the showman said that “the prosecution was ready to rock.” The Judge banged the gavel, and from then on, the court was in session.

This was the third day of the trial so Clay wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but fortunately the case began with a statement from the prosecution summarising the story so far. Prosecutor Gavin explained that the defendant was pleading not-guilty to murdering a work colleague. On the previous day, Apollo had argued that the presence of fingerprints proved that a third person might have been involved, and asked for time to investigate this possibility. Gavin had agreed with him, stating that a fair verdict couldn't be handed down until the full facts of the matter were known, and the Judge had dismissed them to acquire more evidence.

The first witness was a forensic scientist, making Clay sit forward and take interest. It helped that the young woman was attractive, if apparently unimpressed by Prosecutor Gavin; but he was honestly mostly interested in her testimony. It was a totally different field than his own astrophysics and engineering, but it was still science and therefore much more his ballpark than conjecture about who was where when. Gavin drew out her testimony, asking questions from a layman's perspective for her to fill in answers as an expert witness; then Apollo cross-examined her. Clay was reminded a little of watching tennis, as if the ball was served then hit back and forth between defence and prosecution until one side won the point.

The second witness – for the love of Einstein, the man was impossible to listen to. He mumbled in a monotone, inaudible even with the court microphone system, and both lawyers and the Judge had to interrupt him at various points to ask for clarification of things that they simply hadn't heard. Barely able to pick up anything in the gallery, Clay found himself watching the lawyers' body language. Apollo looked frustrated – he was pressing his forefinger into his forehead, and crossing and uncrossing his arms. But Gavin didn’t look any happier either - he was fiddling with his hair, tugging on the braid over his left shoulder, and throwing irritated looks at the witness. The Judge had to threaten the inaudible man with contempt of court several times until they managed to extract a proper testimony out of him. Then Apollo got to do the cross-examination. Lucky Apollo.

Since the poor court reporter needed a break after having to record that witness, the Judge called for a brief recess. He swept out in a flurry of beard and robes, while the defendant was taken away by court bailiffs, leaving the two lawyers behind. Each of them spent a while at their respective benches, looking through reports and evidence. Apollo had a fierce frown as he searched for something amongst his papers. Prosecutor Gavin checked just one piece of paper, nodded, then watched Apollo with a gentle smile on his face, actively waiting for his rival to be ready to leave. When the defence attorney looked up at last, the former rockstar gave an ostentatious bow, causing Apollo to roll his eyes. Yet despite his apparent disgust, they did leave the courtroom together, Gavin's hand resting on the small of his rival's back. Huh.

Apollo used to complain about how Gavin liked to invade his personal space. That the man always had to lean down to speak to him, or throw his arm around him as if it meant something, “stupid flirtatious rockstars”. Yet Clay hadn't heard that particular gripe in months. Which was fascinating considering that evidence from the courtroom itself suggested that Prosecutor Gavin hadn't stopped flirting. He addressed Apollo in a totally different manner from the way he addressed the court at large, talking to him in a teasing, sing-song tone of voice. He had a special nickname for him - “Herr Forehead”. He leaned over his bench to get closer to his rival, or stood with one hand on his hip, preening like a peacock. And now here Apollo was, selflessly enduring Klavier Gavin's terrible touch. Clay had to wonder what it meant.

The useful thing about Prosecutor Gavin having been a celebrity before he was Apollo's court rival was that there was a lot of information about him in the public domain. Clay knew that Klavier was openly bisexual, and unashamed of the fact. He also knew that despite being so beautiful that it was actively intimidating, Klavier had a lot more interest in the shape of someone's mind than the shape of their body. He'd spoken of wanting a romantic partner who was passionate and intelligent, who could argue with him and win those debates. Apollo definitely fitted that category - he’d even managed to win all of his court battles against Gavin so far. Did this mean there was more to their relationship than they were letting on? Surely not; if they were actually dating, they would have declared it to the court for fear of being accused of collusion. Still, Apollo used to complain about “fucking Prosecutor Gavin's fucking flirting, can't he even be professional for one minute, Clay?”, and now he seemed entirely blasé about it. That had to be worth probing, right?

Clay pulled out his phone and sent a quick text message to his friend.

The reply came almost immediately.

Clay wrote back:

Apollo ignored him for several minutes at least. That was rude! So Clay very deliberately and provocatively typed:

That provoked a response, though Apollo was clearly extremely disgruntled.

Clay wondered if Apollo might be protesting too much.