#poor regi has to deal with pining uncle and flirty prosecutor man

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​❝ you are lucky to have a family, that’s all i’ve ever wanted. ❞

“Damn, stupid, fuckingneck trap.”

“Relax, Regi, it look fine onyou.”

Regi let out a sigh, finishingadjusting his tie as the elevator ascended to the top floor. It was ReginaldGladstone’s first day in court as a defense attorney. His uncle was only actingas aid this time. It was a murder case. Definitely not what anyone else wouldhave taken as a first. But the accused was an old friend of the family, theirneighbor and local mailman Mr. Clifton. The old man didn’t have a violent bonein his body. Regi couldn’t leave this case to anyone else. Still, thatdidn’t stop him from being terrified. First case nerves, he supposed. 

In hindsight, perhaps he shouldhave taken Elbert’s advice on leaving this case to someone else. 

Ohwell, hethought. Too late now. I just have to fight hard.

Elbert let out a huff as theirelevator finally arrived and rolled out. “Honestly Regi. No need to getall flustered.”

“I’m not flustered, I’mnauseous.” Regi sighed, gripping the handle of his suitcase tightly as hefollowed after his uncle. “I just hope I’ll manage to surpass expectationsand save Mr. Clifton. He doesn’t deserve to be put behind bars. He’s such a sweetold man.”

“It is strange someone decidedfor him to be the fall guy.”

“I don’t think it was just that,”Regi said. “There feels like there’s a piece missing. Like, isn’t it kind of weird there wasn’t any mail in the house? Even the most immaculate home owners leave junk mail out. And Mr. Clifton said he’s been having to deliver strange packages to for sale houses lately...”

“Now you’re thinking like a defense attorney.” Elbert reached up and pat him on the back. “Keep that in your back pocket. It might come in handy.”

The two came to a stop justoutside the defendant’s lobby. Out of all the people he expected, he didn’texpect Madame Rosine to be waiting for them. He especially didn’t expect her ina soft pink suit jacket with a black skirt and a cravat. Last time they’d runinto each other was at a charity event, where she wore a black velvet dressthat accentuated her red eyes and soft white hair. No matter what she wore, sheterrified him. 

Elbert, on the other hand,seemed almost mesmerized. Almost. Hard to staymesmerized when your longtime rival shows up unannounced.

Rosine gave the two a politenod, raising an eyebrow. "So, today's your first trial and you bring anold man and a green suit. Not exactly what I call a well prepared look,Gladstone."

Regi felt his face heat fromembarrassment. "I…it's the only suit I have, Madame. Plus, forest greenlooks good on me."

"Ésme, stop it," Elbertgrumbled. "Kid's already nervous enough as it is. Doesn't need the ChiefProsecutor criticizing his wardrobe before his first case. That's what thatAllard kid is for."

"Hey! Don't talk aboutÉtienne like-"

Rosine scoffed, looking themboth over. "You sure you're in a position to talk, Manabu? Last I checkedpolka dot ties and graphic shirts aren't allowed in courtroom 1202."

Elbert pouted. His eye began totwitch at the sound of his given name. "This is a protest for the lack ofaccessible ramps in this fucking building! As you can clearly see-"

"The shirt says 'where's myfucking ramp'. Yes, I understand." Her stern gaze turned soft. "Didyou file a complaint with the city council?"

"Of course!"

"I'll take care of it then.I know who to kick to get shit done. Expect the ramps by the end of themonth."

"Oh." Elbert's faceturned a deep shade of violet. All anger, vanished. "Well, uh. Thanks, Iguess."

"Not a problem,"Rosine assured. "Anything for an old friend."

Regi looked between thembriefly. He wasn't sure why, but by the looks on their faces and the way Elbertwas blushing, he was sure he was seeing something he wasn't meant to be seeing.Something tender. Something secret.

Definitely somethingI'll have to ask Marianne about later.

He quietly tried to tiptoeaway, before getting tapped on the shoulder by Rosine's teacher's pointer. Hefroze, slowly turning to look at her. "Y-yes, ma'am?"

"I just stopped byto wish you luck," Rosine assured. "No need to be so nervous aroundme. Just focus on taking this case through to the end." She smiled."You can handle this, Mr. Gladstone."

Regi relaxed, resistingthe urge to hug her. "Thank you, Madame. I'll do my best." He paused."Uh…if it's not too off limits, you wouldn't happen to know who I'm goingup against?"

"Just Evelake.You've met before, right?"

"Yeah, we used tobe classmates. Been a while." He tried his best to hide hisdisappointment. Milon Evelake was a fine prosecutor, he wouldn't deny. But hewasn't the person Regi had been envisioning as his first opponent. He expected someonemore…

Oh, who am I kidding? hethought. I was hoping for them. Not him. Dammit.

"Knock themdead," Rosine said, turning to leave.

Elbert lookeddisappointed. "You're not gonna stay and watch?"

"I have to sit inon another prosecutor for their evaluation coming up. Were I not needed there,I'd be happy to watch your protégé in action. Good day, gentlemen."

Regi watched her go for but a moment before holding the door open for Elbert. “Do you think the person she’s observing is-”

“Focus on your client,” Elbert chided. “Don’t make me have to take over for you mid-trial because you’re pining.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk.”

“EXCUSE ME?! ELBERT SILVERSON DON’T DO PINING!”

Regi let out a groan. Between the case, Evelake, and Rosine, he was not ready at all. 

I need a miracle.

Yep. I need a miracle. 

Regi was panicking, going over the evidence again. The testimony given by Rally d’Villaine was almost airtight. No contradictions. It wasn’t hard. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Mr. Clifton’s daily routine. It wasn’t that hard to recall. But unlike Evelake, who seemed more or less content with the evidence, Regi knew it would be easy to lie about this. 

“I saw Mr. Clifton walk up to Vicky and Tim’s house around 11:45 in the morning on Thursday while working on my car. They let him inside after he knocked, like usual. Vicky always makes him a cup of coffee while on his routes. He exited the house about ten minutes later, blood on his clothes and a pained expression on his face. I panicked and called the police before locking myself in the garage so he wouldn’t kill me too. The police showed up not long after that.”

Evelake snickered. “As you can see, your Honor, Mr. d’Villaine’s testimony lines up with the autopsy report. The defendant was scene going into the house around the same time as the time of death. He was covered in both victims’ blood, and his fingerprints were on the murder weapon. I’d say that’s sufficient enough. He even has a key to the house!”

There has to be a contradiction here. Something is really really off about this. What could it...wait...he said it was Thursday...That’s it!

Regi slammed his hands on the bench. His blood boiled and his voice was tight as he managed to shout at the top of his lungs.

“OBJECTION!!!”

Everyone stared at him. The audience was whispering rapidly. Rally seemed near terrified. The judge was in shock. Elbert was smirking knowingly. Evelake, however, almost seemed smitten. He tried to ignore that. 

“You claimed that my client was at the Rosenbelle house on the day of the murder for coffee,” Regi stated. “While that’s a very common occurrence even I can attest to, Mr. Clifton and the Rosenbelles don’t do coffee on Thursdays.” He walked up to the evidence table, holding up a bag of receipts. “These are the receipts Mr. Clifton keeps from every trip he takes to the Rose Dust Cafe, which his wife owns and runs. On Thursdays, however, she volunteers at the local senior center during the lunch rush-”

“Objection,” Milon cooed. “Why is any of this relevant?”

“I’m getting to that, your Honor.”

The judge nodded. “Very well. Continue, but get to the point.”

“Yes, your Honor.” Regi opened the bag, laying the receipts out in order of date. “Mr. Clifton drops off his wife at the senior center before returning to the cafe and ordering the Hero’s Heart Lunch Special, Tim’s favorite. And he brings it over by noon so Tim can have it with his medication!” He holds up the receipt for the day of the murder. “As you can see, his signature is clearly legible on the receipt, which is marked for 11:48 am. Considering it’s almost a twenty minute walk from the cafe, there’s no way that he could have been there when Mr. d’Villaine claims he was!”

Rally’s hands started to shake. “B-but he, uh, took his car! Yeah! That’s it!”

“Mr. and Mrs. Clifton don’t have a car. Mr. Clifton walks all over town and avoids being behind the wheel for his health. Poor eye-sight plus high cholesterol and diabetes? He wasn’t going to chance it. Even has a doctor’s note for work allowing him to continue his job with the postal service on foot.” Regi grinned, feeling a rush. “Pretty easy to do, given how small Elspie Village is. If you want, we can call his doctor and the employees of both the cafe and the post office on shift that day. As well as the staff at the senior center. Pretty sure a whole lot of people would be willing to testify, given that Mr. Clifton is the town’s only reliable mailman.”

“Th-that doesn’t mean shit!” Rally shouted. “What about his fingerprints?! Huh?! They’re all over the murder weapon!!!”

“He’s got you there, Regi-poo,” Milon teased. “What do you say to that?”

Regi shrugged. “Of course his prints would be on the wrench. It’s from his tool kit. That he lends out frequently to his neighbors and uses to help them with repairs on his off days. It’d be stranger if his prints weren’t on it.” He held up the wrench, pointing to a mark on the handle. “His initials are right there on the handle. Narrowing down who else used the prints would take us through the whole neighborhood.” He leveled his eyes on the witness. “Though according to Mr. Clifton, Vicky said she lent the tools to one of the other neighbors for a car project. And there’s only three people on that particular street who own cars.” He aimed a finger at the witness, eyes ablaze with a strong determination. “And YOU claimed you were working on your car that day!”

“W-wait-” Rally started. 

“You live right across the street-”

“Wait a minute-”

“You know Mr. Clifton’s routine-”

“I said wait-”

“You’re one of the only people who own a car on that street-”

“Shut up-”

“It would have been easy for you to get into the house and kill Vicky and Tim Rosenbelle!”

The witness let out a long, choking squawk of a groan, pulling at his hair and shaking his entire upper body side to side. The court was starting to errupt from shock. The judge smacked down the gavel to try and bring back order. Regi felt confident he was on the right path. 

Evelake, however, couldn’t stop laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” Regi asked. 

“Nothing really,” Milon shrugged. “Just that I don’t see why little ol’ Rally here would wanna kill Vicky and Tim. Everyone loved those old coots, right? Why would Rally kill them?”

“....Yeah,” Rally said slowly, regaining composure. “Why would I wanna kill them?”

Dammit, Regi thought. I thought I almost had him. But the motive. They want a motive. Why would he wanna- Wait, that’s it! I got it!

“It’s because of the mail!” Regi declared. “Mr. Clifton mentioned that he’d been delivering strange packages to that street to various houses marked as ‘for sale’ as of late. However, as stated before his eyesight is failing. While he is the best mailman in the village, even he wouldn’t be immune to sometimes accidentally delivering the wrong package to the wrong house. Whatever has been coming in the mail might have been valuable enough to kill for. At least, to the killer, anyway. And the entire Rosenbelle house was cleared of every piece of mail, right down to the junk mail and magazines.” He tried to hold back from marching up and punching the man. “If I had to guess, based on your little hobby and the fact you work at a dealership, I’d say you’re smuggling illegal or stolen car parts, but guessing isn’t what need to be doing. I’d like to request Rally d’Villaine’s mail be brought in as evidence-”

“There’s no need for that....” Rally sank to the floor, shaking as he gripped the podium. “No need at all.”

The judge raised a brow. “Meaning?”

“...It’s over...I confess...I did it.” He sighed, tears filling his eyes. “Vicky and Tim opened one of the packages when they heard something break. I’d come over to collect them without being noticed but they saw me and asked what it was ‘since I’m so tech savvy’ and asked if it could be fixed. I panicked. I had the tool belt on. By the time I came to my senses...” He looked over at the defendant. “I’m sorry, Mr. Clifton. I never meant to frame you.”

“I forgive you, dear boy.” Mr. Clifton gave him a sad smile. While the apology sounded sincere, and probably was, Regi knew that Mr. Clifton would never fully accept it. His best friends were gone. That was a pain he’d carry for the rest of his days. But he had too big a heart to let the man go to prison without hearing those words. 

The bailifs took Rally d’Villaine out of the courtroom in cuffs. The room had gone quiet. Regi returned to the bench to hear the verdict. 

Mr. Clifton was declared ‘Not Guilty’.

Regi stayed in the defense lobby for nearly an hour after the trial, sipping on the cheap coffee served there. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t believe he won his first case, but it was bittersweet. He’d known the Rosenbelles. He’d known their friendship with the Cliftons was one of the most important parts of the village. Everyone would be mourning for a long time. The community would probably never emotionally recover from his. They still hadn’t from the even over a decade ago.

“Come on,” Elbert said softly. “We better get going before we hit traffic. I’m sure Tanith wants to update us on her training.”

“...Okay.” Reluctantly, Regi got up from the couch and followed his uncle to the elevator.

Elbert reached out and took his hand. “Hey. You did good, youngblood. I’m proud of you.”

Regi nodded. “It hurt.”

“It does sometimes.”

“Does it get better?”

“No...but it gets easier.”

“Better than nothing, I guess....”

They got into the elevator, descending in silence. Soon he’d have to take another case. He’d proved himself today. There’d be expectations now. He’d meet them as best he can. 

I just wish I’d not gone against Evelake. I’d rather it’d have been-

The elevator made it to the ground floor. The doors opened.And Regi couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped him. 

Milon was standing in the lobby, talking to someone in a white mask covered in flowering red vines. They were holding a poncho in on arm, a suitcase in hand, and a stack of papers in the other arm. They wore a lovely white shirt with a wine waistcoat and black trousers. Regi knew that puff of blue hair anywhere. 

“Luci! Hey, Luci!”

The masked person looked over at the sound of their name, quickly turning back to bid goodbye to Milon before hurrying out the building. Regi felt his heart sink.

“What was that about?” Evelake asked. “Normally Adaire sticks around to check out the newbies.”

“No idea,” Regi sighed. “I wish they’d talk to me...”

“Probably intimidated by your psychic-lawyer family.” Milon shook his head. “You are lucky to have a family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I’m sure they want it too. Under that weird mask, that is.” He gave Regi a wink before heading to the door. “If you’re interested, you know where to find me.”

Regi watched him go, sighing in defeat. “This is gonna be a long career...”