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Sebastian Debeste likes his office quite a bit. It’s a different office than the one he had before; they gave his old office away to someone else when he went to live in Europe with Mr. Edgeworth and Kay, but he doesn’t really mind that. His new office feels like a clean slate. It sits at the end of the hall by the elevator and the stairs, with a window like the kind Mr. Edgeworth has that overlooks the city, and sometimes on nights where he stays at the office a little too late he can see the brightest, most determined stars peeking out through the light pollution high above (and on nights like those, Kay or Klavier always show up to drag him back home and scold him for overworking himself).
Of course, Sebastian’s office isn’t nearly as big as Mr. Edgeworth’s, but he keeps it tidy: his bookshelves are well organized (by color, to help with his dyslexia) and he has a nice rug, and framed photos on the wall. One is of him and Justine from his (second) swearing-in ceremony, another of him, Kay, and Mr. Edgeworth at their favorite tea shop by the Rhine. He has a little chess set on the side table by the couch that Mr. Edgeworth gave him, even though he’s not really very good at chess and the rules confuse him no matter how many times Mr. Edgeworth’s tried to teach him, but the chess set is pretty, at least. Kay likes to move the pieces around.
And, on top of all that, Sebastian shares a wall with Franziska, which is nice because she’s arguably the quietest prosecutor in the office (especially when she’s abroad for Interpol reasons). It’s convenient that she’s so close so he can ask her questions if he needs to. Once he stopped being terrified of her, that is. He’s pretty sure Mr. Edgeworth forced her to apologize for whipping him all the time when he was seventeen, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
Really, the only downside to his nice office and its big window is that it doesn’t take a whole lot of work for a certain Great Detective (the capitals are a must) to break into his office. And it certainly doesn’t help that he makes it easier for her by leaving the window unlocked during the day.
Though, today, Kay knocked. Granted, she’d only knocked once and then opened the door before Sebastian even said if she could come in or not, but she did knock, which was a little surprising. A small part of him thought at some point she’d just forgotten how to knock; Mr. Wright once said that he thinks Kay is allergic to doors. He wonders if Mr. Edgeworth scolded her again for breaking into the Prosecutor’s Office - even if she’s breaking into her brother’s office it’s still breaking in, which is illegal, and as a detective she should really understand that (according to Mr. Edgeworth).
Kay strides into Sebastian’s office like a woman on a mission, her trenchcoat billowing behind her. “Hey, Sebby, I-“ she begins, and then abruptly stops when her eyes fall on Sebastian sitting behind his desk. He raises his brows at her as her mouth twitches into a grin she barely tries to fight back. “Shit, sorry dude. I just forgot how much you look like a grandma in those glasses.”
Sebastian purses his lips. A few years ago he would’ve instantly taken off his reading glasses and hidden them in his desk. “Did you come in here just to bully me?”
“What? No,” Kay says, propping her fists on her hips. “This is important.”
“Actually important?” Sebastian asks suspiciously. The last time Kay came into his office to interrupt him in the middle of work, claiming something was important, it was because someone had just posted a thirty-five thousand word Jammin’ Ninja fanfiction about the secret relationship between Princess Misola and the Jammin’ Ninja’s twin punk-rock sister (who for some reason is British in the TV show despite the fact the Jammin’ Ninja is not) and she wanted to tell Sebastian about all her favorite parts. It took almost an entire hour, so Sebastian just decided that would be his break for the day.
That had also been last Thursday.
(He doesn’t really mind, though. If he did, he could tell Kay, and she would respect that. But he doesn’t mind, which she is full and well aware of, so she continues to pester him as much as she likes and he pretends to be annoyed by it.)
“Yeah, it’s like, the most important thing out of all the important things I’ve told you this week,” Kay says seriously, shrugging off her coat. It’s ancient and practically falling apart, made of thick gray fabric riddled with bullet holes, but Kay refuses to get rid of it. She hangs it up on the hook beside the door with care. “Also, the sooner you realize that everything I say is important, the easier life is gonna be for all of us, Seb.”
Sebastian huffs a laugh and closes his case binder with one gloved hand. “Yeah, okay, Kay. What is it this time?” He is a little curious, especially because Kay looks so excited.
She hops up onto his desk, grinning down at him. “I got a scoop.”
“A scoop,” Sebastian repeats, raising his brows. “Aren’t you a detective? Not a reporter?”
“Detectives can still have scoops, Sebby, don’t be small-minded. And this is a big one,” Kay replies, crossing her legs. She taps the front of his desk with the back of her lace-up boots as she gives him an expectant look, waiting for him to ask her what her so-called big scoop could possibly be.
Sebastian quickly gives in. “What’s your scoop, Kay?”
“It’s Klav,” Kay says immediately, barely waiting for Sebastian to finish his sentence. Her grin turns wide and mischievous, and she leans in a little closer to Sebastian to say her next words in a low, conspiratorial voice. “He’s hiding something.”
“Like…what?”
“Okay, so, I went into his office earlier today ‘cause I’m his lead detective on this latest case he’s working on, right, the one with the ferrets? So I went in to give him the report on the crime scene since he asked me to and I’m amazing at my job and he was in there writing music.”
Sebastian taps his finger at the crook of his elbow, leaning back in his chair. “That’s…a pretty normal thing for Klav to do. He writes music all the time.”
“Well, yeah, but this was different music. Secret music.”
“Secret music?”
“Secret music.”
Sebastian opens his mouth, then closes it, looking up at Kay. Sometimes he feels like Kay makes drama where there isn’t actually any at all, and he’s not sure if this is one of those times or not. Apparently, however, Kay has recently learned how to read his mind, because she hops to her feet, slamming her hands down on his desk as gently as she can (because Sebastian doesn’t like loud noises).
“This is big, Sebastian,” Kay insists. “When I went in there he looked like a deer in headlights, like I just caught him watching sexy guitar videos or something.”
“…Sexy guitar videos?”
“And I asked him what he was working on and he got all flustered super fast and shoved it into his desk and was like, oh, ja, Fraulein Faraday you simply cannot look at my art,” Kay says, mimicking Klavier’s accent, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead with a dramatic flourish. “It is unfinished and so terrible you will die upon reading it, ja, ja!”
Sebastian squints at her. “Did he really say that?”
“Well…no. I was paraphrasing. But that’s was, y’know, the concept.”
“And…you want to…” Sebastian says, trailing off. He has an inkling of what Kay is going to suggest.
“Steal it, yeah. Got it in one, bro.” She ruffles his hair, laughing when he smacks her hand away. “‘Cause you wanna know the kicker?”
“What?”
“He put it in the locked drawer,” Kay says, smug like she just dropped a bomb and absolutely knows it. “The locked one, Seb.”
Sebastian wishes that he could pretend like that didn’t pique his interest. He really does. But he knows just as well as Kay what that locked drawer means: that Klavier wants absolutely no one to see what he’s working on, especially Kay and Sebastian. Per design, the lock on that drawer is notoriously difficult to pick (Kay would know, she’s tried it) and anything he puts in there is completely and utterly off limits. It’s the unspoken rule of the locked drawer, and typically Kay respects that.
Except for today, it seems.
“I want you,” Kay says, leaning on Sebastian’s desk, “to help me steal that sheet music.”
“…You can’t do it yourself?” Sebastian says, after a beat.
“Nope. I need you for this heist, Seb. You gotta be my front man.”
He gives her a suspicious look. “Why?”
“Because, Sebastian,” Kay says solemnly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’re the Luigi.”
“…What.”
“You’re the Luigi, bro,” she repeats, as if saying it again makes it make any more sense. At the bemused look on his face she holds up a finger. “One sec.”
Sebastian watches as Kay taps at the screen for a few moments. He leans over his desk to peer at her phone and she promptly shoves his face away. She sticks his tongue out at him; he sticks his own out right back, but he leans back in his chair again and waits for her to finish.
“Okay, here it is.” Kay clears her throat, and starts to read off her phone. “‘Luigi is portrayed as timid, frail, clumsy, self-conscious, and a bit of a coward who is most afraid of ghosts’,” she reads, “‘but is kind-hearted and heroic. He overcomes his fears and acts like a hero when necessary, such as when someone or his homeland is in danger or needs help’.”
Sebastian stares at her. “…Are you reading from the Luigi Wikipedia page right now?”
“Yeah, what, you think I have this shit memorized? Let’s see…oh, here, ‘Luigi is shown to get emotional at times, as he cries easily’!” Kay grins at Sebastian, her eyes glittering with mirth. “I bet he cries watching The Princess Bride.”
“That was one time!”
“Oh my god, this is perfect, look, apparently in the Paper Mario games he was shown as being ‘bolder, arrogant and boastful’,” Kay says, showing Sebastian her phone screen to prove it. She gives him a smug look. “Sounds like a little shit I once knew, don’t ya think?”
Sebastian glares at her. His glares are never very effective because it just makes him look like he’s pouting, but he does it anyway.
Kay snorts. “C’mon, Seb, are you gonna tell me that I’m wrong? You’re my tall, clumsy, kind-hearted younger brother who cries very easily,” she says, ticking these traits off her fingers, “and you’re oh-so underestimated - and under-appreciated, I might add - in your time. So therefore, as the Luigi of our dynamic duo, you must be the one to do this deed, because Klavier will never suspect you.”
Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, staring at Kay. She crosses her own arms right back, mimicking his posture.
“I know you wanna know what’s going on with Klav, Sebby,” she says, cocking her head. “Your pouting isn’t gonna convince me otherwise.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You totally are. Is it because I called you the Luigi and Luigi is a…” she checks her phone. “A timid, frail, clumsy self-conscious coward who’s terrified of ghosts? For the record, I don’t think you’re a coward.”
“But you think all the other things?” Sebastian sputters. “I’m not…I’m not frail, Kay!”
Kay quirks a brow. “You’re not denying the other stuff, though.”
“I am. I am denying it.”
“What, do you want me to tell you that you’re some kind of outgoing bodybuilder with the grace of a figure skater and balls of steel? Sebastian, I love you, but I’m pretty sure if you saw a ghost you would die on the spot.”
“I would not!”
“Would too.”
“Not if it was…a very small ghost,” Sebastian says petulantly.
“Like the ghost of a worm?”
Sebastian frowns. “Can worms…be ghosts?”
“I dunno, man, anything is possible. If worm ghosts were real would you be afraid of them?”
Sebastian opens his mouth, then closes it. He supposes he’s not afraid of living worms, so he probably wouldn’t be afraid of spiritual worms, but the idea of worm spirits does bring up a very pressing question. “If worms have spirits do you think Miss Maya can spirit channel a worm?”
Kay stares at him for a long moment, her hands on her hips. “The way your brain works fascinates me, Sebby,” she says sincerely.
“Thank…you?”
“You’re welcome. But anyway, circling back to Klavier and his secret music,” Kay says, tossing herself on the little couch on the other side of the room. “Are you in or not?”
“…I don’t know, Kay.” Sebastian tugs at the hems of his gloves. “If it’s private maybe we shouldn’t steal it..?”
Kay nods thoughtfully. “Yes, I hear your point, but consider this: Klavier is our best friend and it’s really fun to tease him.”
Sebastian does consider it. It’s a good point, to be honest, and he really does want to know what Klavier is hiding. It’s not unheard of for Klavier to refuse to let Kay and Sebastian see his music until it’s done; his perfectionist nature means he often thinks his works in progress are absolute garbage. But if what Kay is saying about his reaction is true…he’s never been so weird about it before, and Sebastian won’t deny that he’s a little curious.
He looks up at Kay, who’s watching him expectantly on the couch, and relents. “What do you want me to do?”
Kay squeals, leaping to her feet. She vaults over the desk to throw her arms around Sebastian’s shoulders, nearly knocking his chair over. “Oh my god, yes, Sebby! I’m so fucking excited, it’s been literally killing me not knowing what he’s hiding.” She leans back, grinning at him with that mischievous look on his face that he knows so well. “And trust me, dude, you’ve got the easy part. But you are going to have to lie a little.”
And so, Sebastian is given a very simple task: distract Klavier Gavin.
It won’t be difficult. Klavier isn’t particularly hard to distract, especially since they’re close friends. He won’t suspect a thing, according to Kay, which helps because when it comes to Sebastian Debeste, people don’t typically think there is anything to suspect at all. Due to his nature he is very, very easy to underestimate, and therefore no one ever expects him of mischief (except, perhaps, for Mr. Edgeworth, who at this point knows better).
Because he is, after all, the Luigi.
Sebastian stands in front of Klavier’s door for a good thirty seconds or so hyping himself up before he actually knocks. He folds his gloved hands behind his back and smiles when Klavier opens the door. “Hi, Klav,” he says, trying to keep his voice bright and free of nerves.
“Ah, hallo, Sebastian,” Klavier says. He leans out into the hallway, peering around Sebastian and up and down the hall. “Kay isn’t with you, is she?”
“No,” Sebastian replies. He says nothing else. He doesn’t try and lie and say he hasn’t seen her all day, because considering they live together it would be rather unrealistic to assume he hasn’t seen her, and he’s also one of the worst liars in the entire world and also probably the universe, if he’s being honest. He is painfully aware of this fact about himself, and therefore does not try to lie.
Not at this point, anyway.
Klavier nods, a look of relief flickering across his face. “Oh, gut. What can I do for you, then, Sebastian?”
Sebastian’s inability to lie is the flaw in Kay’s perfect plan. Back in his office, she’d grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him in the eye as best she could despite the fact Sebastian has half a head and then some on her, and told him exactly what he needed to say. Just like reading from a script, she’d said. She’d made him repeat it all three times, but faced with Klavier patiently waiting for Sebastian to explain why he’s interrupting his work, Sebastian’s mind goes absolutely, completely blank.
And so, instead of Kay’s well thought out and reasonable excuse as to why Klavier might need to leave his office for an extended period of time, what comes out of Sebastian’s mouth is this:
“Oh. Er. I just…thought I’d come over and we could…talk! About your case. If you wanted, that is. Or not about cases at all, really, we could talk about…uh…t-the weather.”
Sebastian feels his smile twitch on his face. Oh my god. That was so bad. Why is Kay trusting me with this.
Klavier tilts his head, an amused look on his face. “The weather?” he repeats questioningly, and Sebastian pictures an eavesdropping Kay burying her face in her hands. “Are you feeling alright, Seb?”
Pull it together, Debeste!
“Actually, no - well, yes, I’m feeling alright but no, I don’t want to talk about the weather - that was a…joke, actually. Haha. Um. Can we talk about my case? That’s why I came over to talk to you, actually. I just, uh, forgot on the way here,” Sebastian says quickly, trying not to stammer, and also trying not to wince at the words currently tumbling out of his mouth. “It’s…uh. Tricky?”
Klavier stares at him for a long, long moment, and as each second ticks by Sebastian grows more and more convinced that he just botched the whole operation with his nerves before Klavier begins to laugh. “You are a very peculiar person, Sebastian,” he says, “but ja, of course I can help you with your case. Do you want to come in?”
He steps to the side in the doorway of his office, and Sebastian’s eyes snag on the locked drawer immediately: it’s the bottom one on the filing cabinet next to the window, the one with a sign on it reading: NO GREAT THIEVES ALLOWED in Klavier’s swooping handwriting. This would be a lot easier if Kay could just get in through the window, but the entire far wall of Klavier’s office is window and it doesn’t open, and Sebastian doesn’t think it’s a really smart idea to break the entire thing just to see what kind of music Klav is writing. In any case, the idea of Kay scaling the building makes Sebastian slightly nervous (and not just because he’s kind of afraid of heights).
So here is where Sebastian’s role in the heist comes into play.
“N-no, I was actually thinking we could talk in my office,” Sebastian says, glancing down the hall. “I mean…all my stuff is in there.” This is true. “I didn’t bring anything with, either.” Also true. “A-and I…want you to look at my notes in case I, uh, missed something.”
This is not true, because Sebastian already asked Mr. Edgeworth to look over his notes and he feels very confident on the case in general, but it’s the only lie he had, given to him by Kay (not that that made it any easer to actually execute).
Klavier, luckily, thank god, takes it at face value. “Certainly. Let me just lock my office and we can pop over to yours,” he says, closing the door as he steps out into the hall. “A certain thief has had especially sticky fingers lately.”
And Sebastian politely decides not to say that Kay can pick the lock on Klavier’s door in thirty seconds flat.
As Sebastian leads Klavier down the hall, he feels a lick of pride in his chest for the first step of the plan, the hardest part, now complete: get Klavier out of the office.
Now he just has to keep him in his office until Kay can get into that locked drawer.
Kay really hopes Sebastian can keep Klavier distracted, because this lock is turning out to be an absolute bitch. She feels a little bit bad about putting Sebastian in a situation where he has to think on the fly; in any place other than a courtroom, he’s really, really, really bad at it. In court, he’s had the time to pore extensively over the details of a case and takes the time to learn everything he can about the witnesses, the suspects, the victim. He has a very well-organized, color-coded binder of knowledge he can turn back to in court.
He does not have a well-organized, color-coded binder of ways to lie to Klavier Gavin. Perhaps he should make one, Kay thinks, tucking one of her lock-picks between her teeth. It might help. But he already got past the worst part; all he has to do now is just hang out with Klavier in his office, which he does pretty regularly already so Kay isn’t too concerned about it. She has bigger fish to fry right now.
Kay stares down at the lock on the filing cabinet drawer. It’s an ASSA Abloy Protec2, a difficult lock to pick by all means but not impossible. She’s heard of people on her forums cracking it; it’ll take a while, but she can do it. She just needs time, which Sebastian will provide her. She lifts the lock, a heavy metal thing, and frowns at it. She knows these Abloys are disk detainer locks and not pin tumblers, but she’s handled disk detainers before. They just don’t have springs. That’s fine.
The problem with Abloy Protec2 locks is that they have a fancy fucking mechanism that locks all the disks together so she can’t manipulate the disks individually like pin tumblers. After studying the lock a little more, she pulls out her little case of tools and puts her normal lock pick back where it belongs; it won’t be of any use here. She studies the tools before picking up one she rarely uses, because she typically doesn’t have a need to: the dual edge serration rake.
And Great-Thief-slash-Detective Kay Faraday gets to work.
Kay’s taking a really long time.
At some point, Sebastian gave up on trying to pretend not understanding the details of his case, and they moved on to talking about other things. He got Klavier pacing around his office, complaining about a witness in his own case (who Klavier refers to exclusively as the Ferret Lady), and luckily once Klavier gets on a good rant it’s difficult to get him to stop, especially if it’s about something that irritates him. In Sebastian’s experience, that’s the best way to keep Klavier distracted, but he’s worried he’s going to run out of steam sometime soon, though, and he’s going to have to come up with something else. Surely he can get Klavier to rant about some other thing; Klavier has a lot of opinions, after all. He’s not altogether concerned. The hard part was just making up an excuse to get him here, really.
But for now Sebastian sips his tea with extra milk and cinnamon and listens to Klavier go off about how the Ferret Lady apparently had the audacity to bring her wild, feral animals into his office while they were meeting the other day and one of the ferrets gnawed on the leg of his desk chair. The Ferret Lady vaguely reminds Sebastian of Patricia Roland, though in her case it was foxes, not ferrets. He’s also never heard of a feral ferret; he didn’t know they could be feral. He supposes anything can be feral, really. He wonders if it would hurt to get bitten by one. Can they carry rabies? Maybe he should avoid the Ferret Lady if she returns to the Prosecutor’s Office anytime soon…he doesn’t really want to get rabies. It sounds unpleasant.
“And do you know how difficult it is to get ferret piss out of an organic cotton carpet, Sebastian?” Klavier is saying, raking his hand angrily through his hair.
Sebastian admits that he does not, and takes another sip of his tea, hiding his smile behind his cup. Step Two: Distract Klavier Gavin is going perfectly.
Ten minutes later, Step Three: Break Into The Locked Drawer is not going perfectly. There’s been a lot of swearing, and at one point Kay did contemplate throwing the filing cabinet out the window. She also contemplated just cracking the entire thing open like a really strong, rectangular metal egg, but that would require something a little more heavy duty than a lock pick. Maybe a chainsaw. She’s always wanted a good excuse to use a chainsaw, especially since Mr. Edgeworth seems hellbent on keeping any and all chainsaws away from her.
Kay hunches her shoulders, jiggling the rake carefully, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her teeth. She’s entirely within her rights to give up, but Kay Faraday is stubborn as a mule and right now she doesn’t give a shit about Klavier’s weird secret music. She just wants to pick this stupid fucking lock out of sheer spite and nothing else. God, she can feel the sweat on her brow. A lock has never made her sweat before.
And then, after more time than she’s ever spent on a lock before, even when she was just learning to pick, she hears a blessed, wonderful sound: a click. She jolts upright like she’s been struck by lightning as the lock pops open in her hands, and she nearly screams with triumph but remembers just in time that she’s supposed to be sneaky right now. She wastes no time opening the drawer, snatching the file sitting inside. Though she really, really wants to open it in and see what Klavier’s hiding from them, she figures that she ought to share that moment with Sebastian. He’s the one keeping Klavier distracted, after all: he deserves the glory of the reveal just as much as she does.
Kay grabs an empty file from one of the other drawers and quickly scribbles a note inside it before tucking it back into the filling cabinet, snapping the lock closed. And then she tucks the stolen, precious file under her arm and flees the crime scene.
Step three, complete.
Kay throws the door to Sebastian’s office open so loudly that Sebastian nearly spills tea on his nice suit vest and Klavier jumps in alarm. Upon seeing Klavier, she whips her hands behind her back and grins. “Oh, hey, Klav!”
“Hallo, Kay,” Klavier says, eyeing her suspiciously. “You better not have just been in my office.”
“Nah, I was just talking to Mr. Edgeworth. He’s trying to figure out what to get Trucy for her birthday so I was helping him out. It’s hard when he’s already given her every single magic prop ever made,” Kay says, the lie falling smoothly off her tongue, and Sebastian is incredibly impressed. “Hey, we still on for movie night tomorrow?” She asks Klavier, then, tilting her head. “It’s your turn to pick what we watch, and it better be something good.”
Klavier rolls his eyes. “Everything I pick is good.”
“Literally not true but I’m glad you have that kind of self confidence.” Kay winks at Sebastian as she says it, but Sebastian knows what the wink actually means. He takes a careful sip of his tea, trying his very hardest to keep a straight, completely normal and unsuspicious expression on his face.
Klavier, thankfully, doesn’t seem to suspect a thing. He glances at the clock on the wall and frowns, displeasure on his face. “Danke, Sebastian, for letting me complain to you,” he says, flicking his bangs out of his eyes, “but I should probably get back to work. I have to make a copy of that awful woman’s testimony for the record and I am not looking forward to it.”
“Oh, the Ferret Lady?” Kay asks, and makes a face when Klavier nods. “Dude, she sucks.”
Sebastian winces in sympathy. “Good luck. Let me know if you need help.”
“Ja, I will. Tschüss.”
“Bye, Klav!” Kay says, and Sebastian waves politely as Klavier makes his way out.
The second the door to Sebastian’s office is closed, Kay darts over to the desk. She vaults over it so she and Sebastian are on the same side, and she throws down a plain manila file.
“Is this it?” Sebastian asks, setting aside his cup of tea.
Kay leans over him and grabs the cup. He frowns at her but doesn’t fight it. “Sure is,” she says, satisfaction and triumph clear on her face.
“It took you a really long time.”
“Deadass, Sebby, that lock was so fucking hard to pick. I felt like I’d never picked a lock before. But I did it, and now we get to reap the benefits. The sweet, sweet, blackmaily benefits, if I’m thinking right.”
Sebastian’s gloved hands hover on either side of the file. “Should I open it?”
“Uh, duh!” Kay says, taking a sip. She makes a face. “Ugh. This needs sugar.”
“I like it without sugar.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re crazy. Open it!”
Sebastian pauses for just a moment before opening the file. Inside are three pieces of sheet music. Kay peers over Sebastian’s shoulder, and their eyes widen when they see exactly what kind of music Klavier has been writing in secret.
“Oh my god,” Kay says, slowly setting the cup down. “Is this what I think it is?”
Sebastian slides the first sheet to the side to look at the second one, squinting down at the lyrics scrawled across the page.
Kay grabs the first sheet, holding it gingerly in her hands like she just stole the Declaration of Independence National Treasure-style. “Holy shit.”
And then, the door to Sebastian’s office slams open for the second time that day, and standing in the doorway with wild eyes is Klavier Gavin. He spots the sheet music in his best friends’ hands and sputters something in German that Sebastian has spent enough time around him to know is some kind of curse. He’s holding an open file in his hand, and Sebastian can just barely make out a note scribbled inside in Sharpie:
nice try, dumbass!
“You picked the lock,” Klavier says, pointing an accusatory finger at Kay. “You picked the lock.”
A mischievous grin spreads across Kay’s face. She taps the paper in her lap with the back of her hand. “I did. And I found something really interesting inside that drawer. You really didn’t want to tell us that you’re-“
“Don’t say it,” Klavier snaps. His face is turning red. “Kay, don’t you dare.”
“You’re writing-“
“We’ve been friends for many years but if you finish that sentence I will throw you out that window,” Klavier warns.
“You’re writing love songs to Apollo Justice?”
Kay and Klavier both look at Sebastian, delight on Kay’s face and horror on Klavier’s at Sebastian’s words. Klavier works his jaw, his eyes darting between them as color rises in his cheeks, and Kay bursts into laughter.
“C’mon, Klav, don’t try and deny it now,” Kay says, waving the sheet in the air. “We have the evidence right here in your fancy-schmancy handwriting. You sure talk about his eyes a lot. Did you need a thesaurus for all these synonyms for brown?”
Klavier looks halfway through considering whether he should actually throw Kay out the window like he threatened or just toss himself out instead.
“I do like this song title, though,” Kay continues, peering at the sheet music Sebastian is looking at. “Harbinger of Justice for the Heart. Pretty badass, actually.”
Klavier’s face goes bright, tomato red, stammering something incomprehensible. “H-how did you…I was in my office all day to make sure your meddling ass stayed out! I only left once to talk to-“
And then, Klavier stops dead in the middle of his sentence, sudden understanding dawning on his face. He turns to Sebastian, disbelief in his eyes. “You…you were…”
Kay rests her elbow on Sebastian’s shoulder, propping her chin in her hand. “Use your words, bestie.”
Klavier ignores her. “You were distracting me so she could get into my office?” he says incredulously. “You were in on it? You were…you?”
Sebastian, in response, just picks up his cup of tea and takes a slow, measured sip.
Klavier’s mouth falls open. “Oh mein GOTT.”
“He’s the Luigi, bitch!” Kay exclaims, before bursting into teasing laughter so loud it echoes through the halls of the Prosecutor’s Office, and if it were to reach the twelfth floor office of Miles Edgeworth, Chief Prosecutor, he would know instantly that his two wards are decidedly up to no good at all, yet again.