#she’d be like I HATE YOU MILES EDGEWORTH and storm off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aceprosecuties · 8 years ago

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First submission for #gayblackquillweek! Prompt: snow. Simon reminisces about a day from his past with Fulbright as a winter storm kicks up. Blackbright, though I guess Phantomquill, technically...sort of. Approximately 1700 words.

“Don’t stay here too late, Blackquill. The storm is supposed to pick up later.”

Simon had looked up from his desk to see his boss standing in the doorway of his office. It was rather unusual that he was leaving after Miles Edgeworth, but apparently the Chief had plans and was taking off early (and of course, “early” actually meant “on time” for Edgeworth).

“Worried about me, Edgeworth-dono?’ Simon chuckled, but didn’t receive any sort of reaction, so he just waved his hand nonchalantly. “I won’t,” he said, not entirely sure if he was telling the truth or not. “I’d rather not have to trudge through ice and snow just to get to my apartment. I just need to take care of a few more things first.” It wasn’t as though he wanted to stay for the rest of the night. He just knew that if he took all the work he still wanted to finish home with him…it would just stay on the table while he did other things. “Tell Wright-dono to make sure his blade is sharpened for the next I meet him in court.”

“Yes, I’ll let Wright know you said hello,” Edgeworth replied, and Simon could see a hint of a smile on the Chief’s face. They waved, and Edgeworth was gone, leaving Simon alone in his office with nothing but his own thoughts and the mountain of papers scattered all over his desk. Even Taka was absent; the hawk had left earlier in pursuit of food, and Simon knew his pet would likely wait at his apartment after satisfying his hunger.

So, he worked; the faster he finished, the faster he would be able to get home.

Unfortunately, his mind often lost track of time when he actually started doing things, and so he hadn’t realized until he had finished that it was closing in on nine o’clock.

He sighed…so much for not trudging through snow and ice.

Simon swiveled his chair so he was facing the large window behind his desk. It really had picked up out there; unusual for L.A., even in winter. Simon watched as the large flakes practically danced in the sky, and opened the window to let some drift and then melt onto his hand.

His mind wandered to a day like this one last year…while he was still in prison.

He remembered being cold; it was a chill that had permeated the stone walls and steel bars of his cell, and even made his breath visible in the air. But even with that cold, he looked out fondly at the darkened sky as white snowflakes wandered down, sticking to the ground and causing a white blanket to envelope the land. How long had it been since he had touched snow?

It was around then when Detective Fulbright came in. Although it was later than normal for him to be around, he still seemed his usual cheery self.

“Fool Bright. Shouldn’t you be at home by now?”

The detective laughed and brought two fingers to his head in a salute. “Normally yes, but I was told to give you this, and the champion of justice never relaxes when there are jobs to do!” In his hand was a case file; Simon didn’t read it immediately at the time, and right now he couldn’t remember what case it was…because his mind was too focused on the image of Detective Fulbright that it was conjuring up as he brought back the memory.

“It isn’t as though you have anything else to do anyway,” Simon had snarkily remarked, earning a pout from his partner, who looked sad as he brought his two index fingers together while he hunched over slightly.

“Well, no, but you don’t have to point it out like that…”

Simon rolled his eyes before shifting them back to the small barred window. He had expected Fulbright to leave, but didn’t hear any footsteps.

“Um…Prosecutor Blackquill?”

“What is it, Fool Bright?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“You just have a strange look on your face,” Fulbright had replied, finally causing Simon’s gaze to shift from the scenery outside to him. “N-Not a bad one, just strange!” Simon chuckled as he remembered how Fulbright tried covering his tracks when Simon had glared at him for his earlier remark. “Like you were thinking about something important.”

“Not important, no.” Simon paused, and for some reason, had felt a compulsion to continue. “It has just been a very long time since I’ve been able to see or touch snow, so I was admiring it. I used to play in it with my sister when we were young. Often, she’d built snowmen that looked more and more like robots as she aged, and I would pelt her with snowballs whenever she made the mistake of not keeping an eye on me. It was…a happier time, I suppose. Before my soul became wretched.” Simon had shrugged, not exactly knowing why he was telling Fulbright about cute stories from his past.

Then again, he told Fulbright many things, never really understanding why when he did.

“Prosecutor Blackquill, your soul isn’t wretched!” Fulbright had shouted, and Simon remembered how his voice almost echoed in that small cell of his, and how he wanted to believe that Fulbright actually thought that. “You shouldn’t say things like that, you know! It won’t be good for when you reintegrate into society!”

“Heh, Fool Bright, you still believe that will happen? What an imbecile you are,” Simon whispered, a hint of sorrow breaking through in his tone. “It is less than a month until my execution. I ask that you stop trying to give me false senses of hope.”

“But I really do believe that-”

“Silence!”

Simon stood up, and walked over to Fulbright so that they were definitely too close together.

“Please,” he said, his voice sounding much less threatening than he originally had wanted it to. “Just…don’t.” Without really thinking, he put his head down on Fulbright’s shoulder, though didn’t make any other moves to embrace his partner.

Simon cursed the vulnerability he was displaying right now, with how he was leaning on Fulbright and how his voice was both soft and pleading. Why was it that this man was so keen on reminding him of the freedom that he was becoming less and less optimistic about ever receiving? His scheduled death was in a few short weeks, and the hope of finding the Phantom before that time was dwindling rapidly.

Thankfully, Fulbright had not said anything immediately after that; Simon remembered how he stood there, feeling both sad and oddly warm. He remembered the detective’s scent, and how his shoulder felt; not the most comfortable place to lay one’s head, but Simon had found it more than adequate at the time.

“Do…you want to go outside, sir?” Finally, Fulbright had broken the silence with his question, causing Simon to stand straight up again and step back with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Don’t you need clearance? It isn’t exactly time to be working or anything like that, Fool Bright.”

Fulbright had just smiled and put his hands on his hips, laughing that loud ridiculous laugh that Simon both loved and hated. “No matter! This is a special occasion, and it would be unjust to have you stay inside on this night!”

So, Fulbright had led him out of his cell and out of the building; Simon’s shackles must have been cold when they hit the frigid air outside, but the prosecutor didn’t seem the mind at all. He just stepped out into the snow while staring at the sky, feeling the wind and the flakes on his face. His eyes closed, as he breathed in-

And then he was pelted in the back with a snowball.

He turned towards the perpetrator, seeing Fulbright with another one ready, though the man looked quite sheepish when Simon’s glare fixated on him.

“I was just trying to do what you said you used to do with your sister, sir! To maybe make you feel…happier!” Simon had stared for a moment, and the way Fulbright had nervously smiled made him believe that the detective wasn’t sure if what he was doing was something he should have been doing. But then Simon had smirked.

“That’s hardly fair, Fool Bright, considering I’m in no condition to fire back with these shackles on. That wasn’t very…just of you.”

At first, Fulbright had sighed in relief, but then the accusation made him jump and defensive. “I…no! The champion of justice would never do something unjust, especially not to you, Prosecutor Blackquill! That’s not-”

“Well, in order to make it right, you will allow me one retaliation.”

“O-Of course, sir!”

And Simon remembered how the snow was cold on his hands as he bent down and scooped up enough to create a ball. But instead of trying to throw it back, he slowly walked over to Fulbright. Once he got within the other’s personal space, he lifted the ball with both of his hands, and smashed it on top of Fulbright’s head, before rubbing it in the detective’s brown hair.

“There, now we’re even.”

Fulbright blinked a few times in some manner that could only be read as confusion, before smiling brightly, causing Simon’s face to heat up even in the cold. He had turned away, mumbling something about Fool Bright being an idiot, though couldn’t deny that his pulse had quickened just slightly. How did that man, of all people, cause him to have such reactions?

Maybe it was because he did stupid things like this, just to make Simon smile.

But…it was all fake, wasn’t it?

Simon realized he was crying as he stopped reliving the memory; tears were staining his cheeks, and his vision was blurred. He felt…heavy. As though something was pressing down on him and making him exhausted.

He knew what that something was: the memories of Fulbright.

Technically, of the Phantom, he supposed, though he hated sullying happy memories of Detective Bobby Fulbright with that bitter truth.

The snow outside had not let up.

Without bothering to wipe his eyes or face, Simon stood up and went to the door. He knew that he should probably be getting home.

#ace attorney #gayblackquillweek #blackbright #phantomquill #simon blackquill #bobby fulbright #I'm not sure if blackbright or phantomquill is more appropriate #because Simon knows now it is the phantom #but thought it was bobby at the time #I DON'T KNOW MAN #<3

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