Chapter Text
“Hey, Daddy?” Trucy asked suddenly, slapping the newspaper she was reading down to the breakfast table. She looked over to Phoenix, who was pouring a cup of coffee and jumped a little at the sound of her voice, splashing a little onto the back of his hand holding the mug. He winced and set the “#1 Boss” mug onto the countertop, shaking his wrist like he was trying to cool it down with motion alone.
“Yes, Trucy?” he replied through gritted teeth. He grabbed for a dish towel to wipe up the spill before turning to face his daughter. She had the good grace to look apologetic for startling him, but plowed on excitedly.
“I have an idea! I think we can make some extra money this summer!”
Phoenix scratched the back of his head anxiously. Ever since she was adopted at the tender age of eight, Trucy had been scarily perceptive to all of Phoenix’s moods-- ups, downs, and the in-betweens where he faked that he knew what he was doing as both a lawyer and a parent. The last seven years had been trying, for sure, but Phoenix had attempted to shove his depression down as far as possible to continue providing for them both. Now that the worst seemed to be over, his smiles came more readily and felt natural again. Any mention of money, however, still sent a jolt of guilt up his spine and he felt his body tensing up in a defensive position, leaning against the kitchen counter’s edge.
“Honey, I know I haven’t been taking as many cases lately, but I don’t want you to think we’re in trouble or anything,” he began, feeling his stomach sink a little. Trucy’s magic career HAD paid their rent more than a couple months in a row, but after he’d gotten his badge back Phoenix was trying to ease himself back into court. Trucy interrupted his train of thought with a wave of her hands, crossing in front of her face like a big ‘X’.
“It’s not that I think you’re not doing enough, Daddy! But… you have taken a lot of pro-bono cases, and then people like Uncle Larry who just… don’t pay you when they should.” Trucy scrunched her face in frustration for a microsecond before her beaming smile was back. “And this will be fun, I promise!” She lifted the paper she was reading and turned the page to Phoenix. There was a half page ad for a summer festival at People Park, coming at the end of July. He frowned, not immediately seeing a connection as he leaned closer to study it.
“You want us to… represent the festival?” he asked, confusedly. She made a huffing sound, amused and pointed to the baseball diamond in the corner of the photograph.
“We should do a fundraiser and have a baseball game! Defenders V Prosecutors! I bet if you and Papa got teams together, we could charge tickets for people to come see us play.” Her eyes had the glitter in them she got when she wasn’t going to be swayed from her path.
Phoenix took a second to digest her idea. “Trucy baby, I haven’t played any sport in…” when HAD he last done anything particularly active, besides riding his bike? “Years,” he finished lamely. He leaned his hip back against the counter’s edge and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not like, against the idea on its face, but how do you expect to convince Miles to do something like this?” She folded the newspaper up into a little square and tucked it into a pocket of her blue cape. She stood, putting her hands on her hips with a grin.
“You leave Papa to me,” she declared. “You just start calling people for a team. We need at least nine players, an umpire, and ooh!” she clapped her hands suddenly, eyes widening with excitement. “I’ll ask Pearly if she wants to run like, a concession stand or something! We sell snacks and we’re sure to double our profits!” She started muttering to herself, walking out of the kitchen and towards her room, pulling her cellphone out of her pocket and texting rapidly. Phoenix stayed where he was, shaking his head with a smirk on his face as he lifted his now lukewarm coffee to his mouth for a sip. There was no stopping this train, he figured, so he got himself ready to ride along. Far be it from him to stifle his daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit.