Chapter Text
Simon examines himself in the bathroom mirror and wonders again if he should have bought a new suit.
It isn’t that he doesn’t like this one. When he had first been approved to prosecute as an inmate, the prosecutor’s office had given him a nice stipend for work clothes and he had been able to buy exactly what he wanted. But this was his first day prosecuting as a free man. A proven innocent free man. Maybe he should have gotten something new, something to visually distance himself from when people would look at him and see a murderer.
Also, he had thought he’d be buried in this suit. It’s a little creepy.
But buying a new suit would mean spending more of Aura’s money and he is indebted to her enough. She already bankrolled a new wardrobe for him, although he tried to buy as little as possible. A new suit when this one was less than a year old would be frivolous.
“It’s only for a few more months”, he reminds himself as he grabs a brush in an attempt to smooth out his hair one more time.
While Simon was innocent of murder, he also deliberately lied to confuse the facts of the case. There would be no wrongful imprisonment settlement. He was lucky the prosecutor’s office didn’t see fit to try him for perjury or obstruction of justice. After seven years on Death Row, Simon had nothing left of his old life and it would be another two weeks before he started pulling in a paycheck. Longer still until he saved up enough money to get his own place and achieve independence once again.
So in the meantime, he is staying in Aura’s house, eating her food, and living off her charity. It was decidedly uncomfortable.
Aura had gotten off remarkably lightly for someone who had taken hostages and threatened officers of the court. Her lawyer, one Eddie Fender, argued convincingly about emotional distress and the love of a sister for her younger brother, while the prosecutor had been…less convincing. As a result, Aura had been able to plead to lesser charges and was sentenced to house arrest rather than jail.
Simon suspects Prosecutor Edgeworth had something to do with getting Winston Payne assigned to the case. While Payne had once been considered a good prosecutor, he is currently the worst of the available pool. However, when Simon had surreptitiously brought the idea up to the Chief Prosecutor, in order to offer thanks, it was summarily denied. Simon is still skeptical though. Providence had never smiled on him before without meticulous prodding. And if Edgeworth had pulled strings for Aura, it is another bit of debt to be added to the ever-growing mountain.
“Simon! Stop primping and get out here!”
Aura’s voice slices through his thoughts with ease, jolting him back to the present. She’s right. It’s getting late and there’s no time to change anything anyway. He moves the brush to the holder, which grabs it from his hand impatiently. He hesitates and considers his assessment. He should not be assigning emotional intent to a robotic arm.
Part of living in Aura’s house is finding robotics in things that do not need robotics. She had the habit of automating things when he was younger, but she’s truly ridiculous about it now.
He opens the door to see Aura standing directly outside, looking at him with expectation and annoyance.
“You spent all that time getting ready and you look exactly the same as you always do. You’d think you’d be more efficient with all that repetition.”
Excellent. A quick spar to start the day. Aura and he often sharpened their blades against each other.
“I see no reason to rush. I need to ensure I’m presentable while I’m at work. Perhaps you’ve forgotten what goes into that” he sneered, punctuating his sentence with a pointed look at her still unbrushed hair. Aura had been getting more lax about her personal grooming as her house arrest had gone on.
She snaps her fingers at the door to the kitchen and Clonco waddles out. The little robot’s hand reconfigures itself into a brush and begins to work on Aura’s hair. Simon had been wondering if Clonco was here legally for a while now. Surely, it was an accessory to Aura’s crimes and they should be separated.
Not that Simon would try. Aura might actually get mad at him if he caused Clonco to get taken away. Simon enjoys fighting, but there is a limit.
“At least you can tell I haven’t brushed my hair. What were you even doing in there? Are you sure you didn’t sleep in that ponytail?”
Simon internally winces. Well parried. Caring for his thick hair in prison had been a challenge. As a result, his hair is now damaged and wild, growing over his eyes and poofing out behind his back even when brushed. He should get it cut, but whenever he thinks about getting it done by a professional he is filled with anxiety.
He could just chop it off himself, but he had been quite proud about his hair in his youth. He didn’t want to lose it or risk ruining it further, even if it is a nuisance. Unfortunately, what was acceptable for a murderous madman now seemed too unkempt for a professional.
Still, even if she had a point, he can’t let Aura win so easily. “My hair is a subconscious reminder of where I’ve been. It will intimidate and unsettle people without them fully understanding why, which increases my effectiveness in court.”
She looks unconvinced. “So unsettling hair is considered being presentable at work?” she scoffs, doubt shining through her voice.
“It’s about having a prosecutorial image that makes criminals and defense attorneys fear you. Other prosecutors will understand the tactic.” A bit of annoyance sneaks into his tone. He’s been on the defensive too long. Time to attack.
“I would have tried to go faster if I knew you were waiting for me. But I should have realized seeing me off is likely the most excitement you’ll have for the day.” He gives her a sympathetic look he knows will be infuriating. “Do you at least have some tinkering planned after I'm gone?”
“I have ‘enjoying the bliss of having my house to myself’ planned after you’re gone.” Aura snaps. “Besides, I already did my tinkering last night.” An enigmatic smile creeps onto her face. “I made you a gift.”
She snaps her fingers once again and Clonco immediately switches from brushing her hair to pulling an object out from a cavity in his chest. The little robot waddles a few feet and presents it to Simon.
It’s a box made of thick, sturdy metal with multiple buttons and a single pipe snaking its way around one side. There’s some sort of venting on the bottom and a handle on the opposite side. But most notable is the timer with glowing red numbers counting down from slightly over 5 hours.
“You made me a bomb.”, Simon says flatly.
“It’s a lunchbox. I made you lunch.” The smile is still on her face. Simon hesitantly takes the box from Clonco and examines it from all sides.
“It looks like a bomb. I’ll never get it past building security.”
Her smile turns sharp. “Just tell them your supportive and genius older sister made it.”
Simon scoffs. “You mean noted terrorist Aura Blackquill? That will help.”
“The terrorism charges were dropped and you know it.” She shrugs. “Keep it in the car then, it's refrigerated.” Her tone sounds light, but Simon can tell it's important to her that he takes it. What he doesn’t know is why. This feels like some sort of challenge.
“Why is there a timer?”, he asks, trying to get a hint at what the game is.
“To show when it opens.” Simon raises an eyebrow to invite further detail, but Aura ignores it. She shoos him towards the door instead. “Don’t worry about it. Now get out, you’re going to be late on your, what is it now? Oh yes, your third first day as a prosecutor.” She rolls her eyes in disdain.
Simon opens his mouth to respond, then catches the time on the wall clock and realizes she’s correct. He needs to leave now if he’s not going to be late. Reluctantly, he tucks the ‘lunchbox’ under his arm to take with him. “Thank you”, he says with suspicion lacing his tone. Aura rolls her eyes once more and retreats further in the house. Simon makes a brief detour to the kitchen before heading out.
A few steps from the car, he hears a joyful cry above him. Taka circles, then lands on his shoulder and nuzzles his ear. Simon obligingly reaches up and rubs along the bird’s neck and under his beak.
“Now where have you been?”, he asks half accusingly. “Vagrant. Out all night and you didn’t even leave a message. Has some lady hawk captured your interest?”
Taka meets his stare unabashedly, before prodding Simon’s cheek with his beak. “Now you want food? You didn’t even bother to hunt during your carousing. I shouldn’t reward such shameful behavior.”
Simon unwraps a bit of meat he had pulled from the refrigerator and holds it up for Taka’s inspection. The hawk is unaffected by the lecture aimed at him and snaps the food from Simon’s hand.
“Now if you are done, I must be off. Follow to the office perch.” Taka vaults from Simon’s shoulder at the signal and begins to climb.
Because email, a computer, and privacy were essential to his job, he was previously assigned an office despite being a prisoner. One of the first things Simon had done after getting his office was to make a perch where Taka could land outside the window. He had been assured he would keep the same office, even with his status change, so Taka should have no trouble finding his way.
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Simon had intended to settle into his office immediately upon arrival. However, as soon as he walked through the door the receptionist flagged him down and directed him to the Chief Prosecutor’s Office. And so he faced his boss’ office door, wondering why he had been so swiftly summoned. It could just be to ‘re-welcome’ him to the prosecutor’s office, but Simon doubted it. That seemed like unnecessary ceremony and he didn’t think that was Edgeworth’s style.
A quick knock later and he’s promptly granted entry. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth looks as put together as always in his distinctive suit, bangs falling perfectly to frame his glasses. He gestures to Simon to sit in the chair across from him and Simon obliges.
“As you know, the prosecutor’s office is currently rife with both corruption and incompetence. I’ve been making strides dealing with both, but it’s slow work determining who to trust. Distinguishing between the unethical who need to be let go and the inept who could be trained is surprisingly difficult. Now that you’re unrestricted in what you can do with this office, I’d like you to assist me in this endeavor." Edgeworth pauses, seemingly inviting a response from Simon.
Well, how abruptly direct. Simon was correct that Edgeworth wasn’t big on unnecessary ceremony, but this is more than he bargained for. A greeting might have been nice. Multiple questions form in his mind and he plucks one at random.
“If determining who to trust is your issue, how do you know you can trust me?”
“We just had a whole trial that proved your innocence quite conclusively. And since you’ve had limited contact with the outside world, you’re unlikely to have fallen under the sway of the people some of my prosecutors have.”
Simon barks a laugh, before smothering his amusement and proceeding more soberly. “Edgeworth-sama, I’ve been in prison seven years. Regardless of my former innocence, I could easily have fallen under the sway of some cartel or gang leader in the meantime. I could have done something in prison that would make me easily succumb to blackmail. And the months where I was prosecuting, I could have been bribed or threatened to do favors for inmates or guards. Just because a politician is unlikely to have me on his payroll, doesn’t mean I am trustworthy.”
He knows he shouldn’t be arguing against his own trustworthy-ness. But there must be more to the Chief Prosecutor’s reasoning and he wants to understand the man better.
“I am aware of all that. Some of this is also my own judgement of your character. Someone who would give up their life to save a little girl from her own misstep, is unlikely to give up their morals for money or under threat. And someone looking to abuse my trust wouldn’t be arguing for me not to trust them.”
“Reverse psychology is a well known tactic, even to laypeople. And I am known to be excellent at mental manipulation. This could all be a ploy.”, Simon challenges.
Edgeworth raises his eyebrow. “It could be. But you have shown a strong sense of honor that is evident in your actions and to everyone I interviewed about you when deciding to let you prosecute. I have trouble believing such a man would betray the person who saved his life. It would be poor repayment of my faith in you and your sister.”
Sister? Simon didn’t think Edgeworth was willing to openly claim to have put a finger on the scale in her case.
“Faith in my sister?”
“That she was right about your innocence. And that she would release the hostages unharmed if we went along with her request for a trial.” Simon is almost sure that’s not what Edgeworth had meant before, but the man is doing his best to be unreadable. Why bring up Aura at all?
“What do you intend my role to be in your crusade, Edgeworth-sama?”
“I’d like you to build psychological profiles on the other prosecutors. I have ongoing investigations into any credible allegations, but that doesn’t mean the more clever perpetrators haven’t slipped through. Deep dive investigations on every prosecutor in L.A. would require more manpower than we have. I’ll find ways to pair you with people of concern, you let me know if it’s likely there’s underlying corruption.”
“I take it I’m doing this without their knowledge?”
“Yes, naturally. I assume this is all easier if people don’t have their guard up as high. You disagree?”
Simon pauses as he tries to figure out the best way to phrase his objections. Does Edgeworth understand what he’s asking? “If the rest of the prosecutor’s office finds out, there will be outrage. No one likes the idea of being psychologically analyzed in secret. They will call for your job.”
A cynical smile appears. “Some are already calling for my job. I’ll survive. I was appointed to clean up the prosecutor’s office. As long as it’s legal and within my mandate, it can be justified.”
“Perhaps that is true. But if this knowledge becomes public, I’ll become a pariah of the prosecutorial world. My co-workers won’t trust me.”
“If I could keep you employed when you were on death row, I can keep you employed when you’re an innocent man.” Edgeworth responds with surety.
Simon’s heart sinks. Employment that would be conditional on staying in the good graces of Miles Edgeworth. No one else would be comfortable working with a spy. Even if he got hired elsewhere, his co-workers would assume he had been hired to profile them. If this got out, it would follow him the rest of his life.
And even if it never became public, he would know. Assessing his co-workers for weaknesses, reporting them to his boss, it would all create distance between them. Simon didn’t expect to be fast friends with everyone, but he hoped to form some new bonds here. How could he ‘find his people’, as Athena had instructed him, if every interaction at work had a layer of deception to it?
“In any case”, Edgeworth continues, “I can be discreet and I know you can as well. I don’t anticipate it being an issue.” When Simon doesn’t respond, he frowns. “Of course, I can’t force you to.”
And there’s the rub. Because this isn’t part of his contract, Edgeworth can’t force him to do it. But can Simon really say no? Surely, allowing a death row inmate to not only leave the prison for work, but actually prosecute cases had been a risky decision for Edgeworth’s career. Simon owes the man his very life. And if his read of the situation is correct, he owes him for the gentle treatment Aura received as well.
Perhaps that’s why he brought her up before, Simon thinks uncomfortably. As a reminder.
What the Chief Prosecutor is asking for isn’t even illegal, just awkward. Perhaps questionably ethical, but not clearly over the line. And Miles Edgeworth has shown himself to be a trustworthy comrade. It would be dishonorable to refuse to aid him when so much aid had been offered to Simon. There was no choice.
“I’ll do it.”
For just a second, Simon thinks Edgeworth’s frown deepens, but then his face smooths out into the severe look that is his default. “Excellent. I have the first person for you to start with, Klavier Gavin. There’s a murder that just came in, I’ll put the two of you on it.”
“It was reported that Gavin-dono was cleared of any involvement with his brother’s crimes over a year ago. Is that false?”
“No, no Prosecutor Gavin was fully cleared…but it would put my mind at ease to get an outside perspective on him. While there was no evidence of wrongdoing, he was close to multiple people who committed murder and ruined lives.”
“Guilt by association?” Simon lets some disapproval show in his voice.
“Also called conspiracy?” Edgeworth responds drily. “It has been known to happen. But actually, the question to you is two-fold. Is Gavin part of anything illegal or unethical and how is he dealing with everything that happened? If he is fully innocent, the last year must have been difficult to say the least. In addition to losing his brother and friend, his band broke up and he quit music. I need to know if I should be worried about him, for whatever reason.”
“Is there any reason to believe Gavin-dono is in distress?”
“Also no, other than the laundry list of misfortune he’s gone through. However, he is extremely good at putting on a positive persona. I have experience with such people and I know a smile does not always reflect a healthy mind. However, as his boss, I’m not in a good position to evaluate him.”
“But a co-worker and friend might get farther.” Simon concludes for him.
“Exactly that.” Edgeworth agrees. At least acting out of concern for Prosecutor Gavin feels more comfortable than investigating him. Simon will just suppress the fact he’s supposed to be doing that as well until it becomes relevant.
Simon had met Klavier a few times prior to the trial of the Phantom. Quick, simple passes in the hallway or court lobbies. The man had been friendly, but Simon had been on a mission he believed would lead to his death. He wasn’t looking for friends or even colleagues and had been curt to the point of rudeness. And, of course, Fullbright made sure to remind the people he met of his status as a prisoner, which made everything awkward. Simon’s goals have changed, but he wonders if Klavier will hold those encounters against him.
The Chief Prosecutor sends a message on his phone, summoning Klavier to his office. A few moments later, Klavier Gavin makes his entrance and Simon is already annoyed. It is simply impossible to meet this man and not be struck by his looks. Blonde hair, perfectly coiled, flows over one shoulder. Perfect skin and a blinding smile grace his face. Despite the prosecutor only being a few years younger than him, Simon feels old and decrepit in his presence.
“Chief Prosecutor,” Klavier begins, before spotting Simon and somehow flashing an even wider smile. “And Herr Blackquill! This is a pleasant surprise. Is this an impromptu welcome party?”
“Nothing so pleasant.” Edgeworth responds. “I have a suspected murder case for you and I’d like Prosecutor Blackquill to accompany you. His most recent work had been supervised by Fullbright who, as you know, was not actually a member of the police department. I’d like you to use today’s investigation to make sure all proper procedure has been conveyed.”
Simon barely manages to keep the wince off his face. He hadn’t thought to ask what excuse Edgeworth was going to use to pair him up with Klavier. The implication that the Chief Prosecutor doesn’t trust him to understand basic investigative procedure is humiliating.
Nothing like implying I’m inept so I can investigate whether Gavin’s corrupt, Simon laments. Surely, there was a better option to choose. Simon wonders whether this is some subtle form of punishment from Edgeworth, but can’t think what it would be for.
Klavier, to his credit, is unflappable. His smile stays firmly centered and he radiates genuine delight in his response. “Wunderbar!” Klavier turns his head to address Simon directly. “You may not know this, but you have become more of a celebrity than I, in this office. First a prisoner allowed to prosecute, an unprecedented event, and no one knew how you had done it. Then you were darkly storming through the halls, speaking to no one. And now your story of honor and tragedy has come out and everyone wants to speak with the man himself! It is quite the coup for me to be the first to get to work with you.”
Simon can recognize the manipulation inherent in Klavier’s little speech. It’s designed to put him at ease, turning an embarrassment for him into an honor for Klavier. He should just allow it to work, but Simon has a sudden spike of mulishness. He’s been pushed into one uncomfortable corner after another this morning, Klavier should share in the feeling.
Simon lets a glare settle on his face. “I had not realized people were enjoying the story of my seven years of false imprisonment on death row with such relish.” he lies. He understood from the beginning that such a fantastical story would spread like wildfire. He knows human nature well enough.
Klavier brushes off the complaint. “Ach, don’t take it negatively. They admire what you did. It’s a good thing this has all come out. And it’s even better that we’ve been partnered for the day. I can give you tips on dealing with notoriety."
“I intend to focus on work Gavin-dono, not discuss the perils of fame with you.”
Once again Klavier manages to sidestep his thrust effortlessly. He lets out a small laugh. “Mein freund, I assure you, I can do both.” The extraneous German should be annoying, but somehow adds to his charm. He is obviously well practiced in maintaining this persona in the presence of difficult people.
Like a bubble popping, Simon’s discontent disappears and a sense of anticipation fills him. A worthy foe to spar with. His style is different from Aura’s, but should still be fun to counter. Simon wonders how many times he can get Klavier to break character before they get to the crime scene.
Edgeworth interjects, holding out a slim, brown file. “Gentlemen, if you could start with the investigation piece now that would be helpful. I do have other appointments.”
Simon takes the file and makes a small bow to Klavier. “Since you will be multi-tasking, allow me to provide transportation. I have my car with me today.”
“Let’s rock!” Klavier exclaims.
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Simon tells Klavier to meet him in the garage, then makes a quick detour to his office alone and checks the window. Luckily, Taka had arrived before him and is currently preening on his perch. “It is a busy morning my friend. I need you to follow the car.”
Taka gives him a penetrating stare only a hawk can manage. Simon glares back. “It’s not my fault if you didn’t get rest last night. I informed you today was a work day.” Taka’s stare does not abate nor does he move, but Simon leaves the office anyway. Taka would come eventually. The bird is the most reliable of partners.
He reunites with Klavier and leads him to Aura’s car.
“I hope you do not have too high of standards for the vehicles you ride in Gavin-dono. This is my sister’s car and she chose basic practicality.” He gestures at the white Toyota Corolla that is their destination and begins to squeeze into the driver’s seat.
“I know I have a reputation, but I’m not so ‘glimmerous’ that I…” Klavier’s sentence suddenly stops as he finishes settling into the passenger seat, door still partially open.
“Herr Blackquill”, he begins in a tense voice, “what is that thing at my feet?”
Simon follows Klavier’s horrified gaze to Aura’s lunchbox sitting on the passenger side floor. The timer’s red numbers glow menacingly as it counts down.
3h 19min 23sec
3h 19min 22sec
3h 19min 21sec
“A lunchbox”, he replies with the blandest voice he can muster.
Klavier’s expression turns incredulous. “Why is there a timer?!”
Simon shrugs. “To show when it opens.” Klavier starts to respond, then closes his mouth without making a sound.
“Secure doors.”, Simon commands. The passenger door slams shut on its own and Klavier jumps. Simon cackles madly inside his head and fights to keep a wicked smile off his face. It’s funnier if he keeps a straight face through this.
“Would you like to enter a destination?” an automated feminine voice asks. Simon looks at Klavier expectantly and Klavier returns the look blankly.
“Where is the crime scene, Gavin-dono?”
“Oh! Yah, it’s Tranquil Waves Wellness Center at the intersection of Coral Street and Stinger.” Klavier begins to reach for the seatbelt, but Simon makes sure to begin backing up before his hand can get to the strap. As soon as the car begins to move, the seat belt automatically secures the young prosecutor in his seat.
“Scheiße!” Klavier startles and Simon congratulates himself for getting actual annoyance to show through.
“My sister is big on safety.” he deadpans.
“Is this the sister who took hostages?” Klavier asks waspishly.
“Yes, although to be fair, she didn’t cause anyone real harm. No one died after all.”
He hadn’t meant that to be a pointed jab at Klavier’s brother, but the resulting silence is awkward. The car slowly loops, rising out of the parking structure and finally emerging into sunlight and LA traffic. Simon desperately wants to look at the face Klavier might be making, but it would tip his hand. Also, he’s curious how Klavier will choose to break the silence.
Klavier clears his throat. “The victim is Marina Reyes, 28 years old. She’s an esthetician who works at the Center. She was found stabbed this morning by the owner when she came in to open up.”
So, he’s going to ignore the whole thing. Simon has the first note of substance to add to his nascent psychological profile. Preferred coping strategy: avoidance.
Simon decides to be generous and allow the change in subject. “Esthetician?”
“Yah, they do facials, hair removal, spray tanning. Anything that concerns the skin that wouldn’t fall under a doctor.”
“You’ve been here before then?” he asks dryly.
“Nein. I have specific people I trust who I go to when I want work done on my skin. It’s important to develop a relationship with both your esthetician and your cosmetologist. I can’t just let anyone work on such important assets.”
It’s an interesting response, more for how it’s said than what is said. Klavier’s tone is a mix of serious and exaggerated. He’s telling the truth, but anticipating being teased for it. He’s pushing his rockstar persona forward to deal with it, but in what way? To show he’s in on the joke and agrees he’s a little ridiculous? Or as a shield, so any criticism is about his persona, not him really?
Either way, Simon doesn’t feel like providing the expected response.
“That is surprisingly wise of you Gavin-dono. You should never let someone you don’t trust hold sharp objects near your face and neck.”
“That…that wasn’t quite what I meant.” The persona vanishes under his surprise.
Simon continues. “A razor could cut through your neck in an instant. And even a seemingly weak person can push a sharpened scissor through an eye with ease. I know a fellow prisoner who got his eyepatch that way.”
“I was more concerned with incompetence, but I suppose your concerns are also true.” Klavier responds uncomfortably. “I’m going to look up the Wellness Center. Get some basic information before we arrive, yah?”
Avoidance again.
“An excellent idea.” he agrees.
It turns out Tranquil Waves Wellness Center is a rather large operation, including a full Salon, spa offerings like facials and massages and even medi-spa treatments. Klavier lists off a long string of services, many of which Simon has never heard of, but Klavier clearly has. The former rockstar keeps up a running commentary throughout the drive, comparing types of facials, describing his favorite, former hairstylist and warns Simon that shellac manicures will ruin his nails in the long term. Clearly, there is no better prosecutor for this case than Klavier Gavin. And, in contrast, no worse prosecutor for the case than Simon Blackquill. He ponders again if Edgeworth has reason to punish him.