foxysquidalso: (colias' contentment)
[personal profile] foxysquidalso
Title: Family Colors
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Word count: 3,800
Pairings, Characters: Klavier, Apollo, Colias, Phoenix, Trucy
Rating: G
Warnings: There might be some very mild spoilers for either AAI or AJ, but I doubt it could be anything that would make a difference to someone.
Summary: Klavier's so good at being secretive, sometimes Apollo doesn't even realize he's doing it--until he finds out something new about the prosecutor. He'd never thought too hard about what the Gavins' parents might be like, but he's about to uncover the truth.
Notes: Written as a gift for [ profile] a_rocky_ravine, who wanted something involving either Diego or Colias. This story is actually based on a silly Fan Theory™ of mine, which I know isn't true, but I think it's cute. You can read my explanation for the theory (and see a few doodles) in this post!

"You really rocked in court today, Herr Justice," said Klavier, leaning back in his chair. He went a little farther than that café chair was meant to be leaned back in, but he made it look smooth and sure. "That bit at the end, with the victim's shirt? That was a nice piece of defending there."

"You did a pretty good job yourself," said Apollo, basking in the praise. "Even though you lost." That hadn't come out exactly how he'd meant it to, and he hurried to clarify. "By which I mean--"

Klavier held up a hand, forestalling him. "Ja, I get your meaning. You know I'm not so hung up on winning, like some of my colleagues. The right verdict was reached, and that's what I care about." He crossed his legs, still leaning back at that amazing angle, and took a sip of his coffee. Suddenly, "Guilty Love" began to play, at such a loud volume that Apollo nearly fell out of his chair, even though he was sitting in it correctly. He was bewildered by the volume and immediacy of the song until he realized it was Klavier's phone ringing.

Klavier held up his hand again, this time with his pointer finger pointing up, wordlessly asking Apollo to wait as he checked the caller ID. Once it was checked, he apologized, "Sorry, I've got to get this."

Mercifully, the song stopped playing as Klavier held the phone to his ear, and the prosecutor began to speak. Apollo tried not to eavesdrop, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't understand a word of what Klavier was saying. At first, he thought that was because Klavier was speaking German, but after a moment of active listening, it became clear to him that whatever language Klavier was speaking into the phone, it certainly was not German. Apollo had heard enough German in his lifetime to be sure of that. No, it was an unfamiliar, singsong language that Apollo didn't recognize. Definitely not German. Or French. Or Borginian.

As he spoke in the mystery language, Klavier's tone was cheerful at first, but as the conversation continued, he began to frown. He said something that Apollo thought probably meant no, more than once, but he didn't sound angry. "Upset" was a better word for the expression on his face. Finally, he said something that might have meant goodbye, followed by a word that Apollo did recognize: Papa. Or maybe it was just a word in the unknown language that sounded similar? It was impossible to say for sure.

Klavier hung up the phone. He sighed, then smiled. "I'm sorry, Herr Justice. I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've got to go. Something's come up. Family business. Got to run."

"That's fine. I--understand." He didn't exactly understand, but he did understand that things came up sometimes, and that people had to go and do other things about them. "I'll talk to you later."

"Ja, later. Don't forget--you rocked out there." He winked before he turned to go.

Apollo blinked. Family business? What had Klavier meant by that?


"Hey, Mr. Wright," said Apollo. Having finished his very expensive coffee at the café (which he'd had to pay for after the man's departure, even though Klavier had invited him out for coffee), he'd decided to return to the agency, for lack of anything better to do. He loosened his tie and sat on the couch beside Mr. Wright, who was watching one of his beloved Spanish-language soap operas.

"Hey, Apollo," said Mr. Wright.

"Mr. Wright, what do you know about Klavier's family? Besides--uh, well, you know."

Mr. Wright glanced away from the screen, a big sacrifice for him, because he didn't speak much Spanish, so he was giving up his major way of understanding what was going on in the story. "Klavier Gavin's family? You are asking me about the family of a guy I only sort of know, who also happens to be a rock star with his biographical information published in every media imaginable?"


Mr. Wright gave him what could only be termed a look. "Google it, Apollo."

"Oh, oh! I know!" Trucy appeared--literally in a puff of smoke--beside the couch.

Mr. Wright started to cough. "Trucy, what did I tell you about those smoke bombs?"

Trucy ignored him, so Apollo was never to know what he had told her about those smoke bombs, although he thought he had a pretty good guess on that point. Trucy, clearly delighted to have the opportunity to distribute facts about Klavier Gavin, hopped up onto the arm of the couch nearest Apollo. "Born in Germany in 2002, Klavier was the first son of German businesswoman Elisabeth Gavin and Cohdopian diplomat Colias Palaeno."

"Wait, first son?" Apollo instantly wished he hadn't said that. He tried to avoid mentioning Klavier's brother.

Fortunately, Trucy didn't say a lot about him. "Elisabeth Gavin did have another son from a previous marriage. Her first husband died, but apparently she loved him so much that she kept his name. Don't you think that's sweet?" She turned to Mr. Wright. "I'll always keep your name, Daddy, even after you die."

Mr. Wright had returned to the world of his telenovela and was no longer doing anything that could be called "paying attention" to what Trucy was saying. "Thank you, Trucy," he said distractedly.

"Klavier looks so much like his mom! It's cute!" said Trucy, finding a more receptive listener for her Gavin facts in Apollo. "His dad is really cute, too. I guess everything about Klavier is pretty cute though, right?"

"Uh, right," said Apollo reluctantly, because it seemed to be expected of him.

"His mom lives in Germany, but his dad lives right here in LA, too, at the Cohdopian Embassy."

Apollo restrained himself from asking why there was an embassy in LA. Maybe she meant a consulate. He'd never even heard of Cohdopia. Where was it? Was the language he'd heard Klavier speaking whatever language they spoke there?

"Oh yeah, the Embassy," said Phoenix, paying a small amount of attention again. "They've got free cookies there."

"And the theatre, and the butterfly garden!" Trucy agreed.

"Yeah, it's pretty great," said Mr. Wright, obviously still thinking about the free cookies.

"What are you guys talking about?" Apollo asked. He'd never heard of an embassy like that before. Not that he'd ever been to any embassies, since they were mostly on the east coast, in Washington, DC, where they belonged. "Have you been to this place before?"

Trucy nodded. "Oh yeah, with Uncle Miles."

"Yeah, get with the program, Apollo," said Phoenix. "I don't know how you missed all this. It's like you fell asleep and missed a whole plotline."

"I haven't known you that long," Apollo protested. "It's not my fault I don't know about it."

"Google it," said Mr. Wright again, and Apollo supposed he must have been amused enough by saying it the first time that he'd had to say it once more.


Apollo didn't bother to Google anything, and the next time he saw Klavier, outside the courthouse a few days later, the man was all apologies. "I'm so sorry I ran out and left you with the bill last time, Apollo. Let me pay you back."

"That's cool," said Apollo. "I can swing it." He honestly could have used the extra money, but he did like being the one to pay for the coffee.

"If you're sure," said Klavier.

"I'm sure," said Apollo, feeling manly. "It's my pleasure."

Klavier smiled and didn't insist, but he had a counter offer. "Then let me take you out for coffee again. This time, it's on me."

As much as he liked being the generous coffee-purchaser, free coffee wasn't something he could refuse. "Sure. That sounds good."

"How about now? Does that sound good, too?"

"I don't have any plans for the afternoon."

"Das ist cool," Klavier said, but at that moment, his phone rang, giving Apollo the urge to cover his ears, which he managed to resist. With an apologetic smile, Klavier gestured for Apollo to wait. "Verdammt," he muttered as he checked the ID. "Not again." He answered the phone, at once breaking into that weird language Apollo had heard him speak before. He talked rapidly, his voice rising several times, as if he were asking a series of questions. Again, he didn't sound angry. He seemed more frustrated than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Apollo," he said when he hung up. "I hate to do this to you again, but I have to go. Rain check?"

"Was that--your dad?" Apollo asked.

Klavier's eyes widened, but he didn't question Apollo's knowledge of his family. Rock stars were probably used to people knowing everything about them. "Ja, that was my papa. He's having a little trouble, and he needs me at the embassy."

"Can I come?" Apollo asked. He wasn't in the habit of inviting himself places, but Klavier had already invited him out, so it wasn't entirely rude of him, and he'd grown curious after his conversation with the Wrights.

"You want to come to the embassy?"

"Sure, why not? Mr. Wright says it's great."

"Ja, Mr. Wright. I sometimes forget he knows Papa through Mr. Edgeworth. Sure, you can come with me, Apollo, but I'm warning you, it's not going to be much fun."

"Why not?"

Klavier rolled his eyes, and for a moment, it was easy to imagine him as someone's son, exasperated by his parent. "Mein Papa is always getting himself in trouble. But come on, if you want to. Follow me."

Apollo balked when they reached Klavier's motorcycle. He hadn't considered the fact that he'd have to ride on it with him. "Is this safe?" he asked.

"I have an extra helmet. It's very safe. I'd never let something happen to my favorite defense attorney."

Apollo laughed, more than a little nervously. "Thanks." Klavier was holding out a helmet, and he took it. This was turning out to be a more exciting day than he'd anticipated: meeting Klavier's father, and riding on a motorcycle to get there.

Luckily for him, Klavier was as good as his word. The motorcycle ride taught him that Klavier was perhaps the most careful driver in the world. He'd never seen traffic laws followed more assiduously. Even he would have driven faster, though it was very possible that Klavier was being mindful of the fact that he had a passenger. That was a nice thought, though it was rather embarrassing to ride behind Klavier, with his arms around him.

They arrived at the embassy, safe and sound. Apollo gazed up at the buildings before him, his mouth falling open. "This place is huge! It really is an embassy, isn't it? Why is it here and not in DC?"

"Don't ask," said Klavier, shaking his head as he took off his helmet. "No one understands how they do things in Cohdopia, least of all the Cohdopians themselves." But he smiled. "It's a lovely country, though."

There seemed to be some kind of construction going on at the embassy. There were ladders and green tarps everywhere, connected by long lines of scaffolding. "What's going on?" asked Apollo.

"Ah, that's the problem," said Klavier with a sigh. "They're renovating the Miles Edgeworth Theatre."

"Miles Edgeworth Theatre?" asked Apollo, incredulously.

"Ja, you see, it used to be called--" Klavier broke off. "It's a long story, I'm afraid. All you really need to know is that Mr. Edgeworth is very beloved here."

Apollo saw that for himself very soon. The people at the door waved them through with smiles and fond greetings for Klavier, and then he found himself standing in what seemed to be the lobby of the theatre. The large room was dominated by a huge painting of Mr. Edgeworth. Apollo all but gasped as he saw it.

"I know," said Klavier, resignedly. "You must understand, Mr. Edgeworth is my father's number one hero."

"I can see that."

"Please don't bring him up, or Papa will never stop talking about him." Klavier continued on his way through the lobby, smiling and nodding to everyone they encountered on the way. Everyone seemed to know him, which made sense, considering the fact that he was the ambassador's son, but that didn't make the experience any less surreal.

Apollo, who had Googled nothing, had not known what kind of person to expect, but when he at last laid eyes upon Klavier's father, he was surprised to find--that he was not surprised at all. The man was as blond and tan as his son, with equally flashy clothes, although they were more old-fashioned than rock 'n' roll, and more green than purple. He wore a green plaid vest, an aquamarine bow tie, and a golden brooch in the shape of a butterfly landing on an enormous flower. He immediately enfolded Klavier in an embrace and kissed him on either cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it, darling. Thank you for all your help."

The man noticed Apollo a moment later. He fixed his gaze on him. His eyes were very green, like his vest.

"Hi there," said Apollo.

A broad smile spread across the ambassador's face. "Ah! Is this the famous Apollo Justice?"

"Ja, Papa, he wanted to come along and meet you. Apollo, this is my papa, Colias Palaeno."

"You can call me Colias," the man said, turning to shake his hand enthusiastically. "Any friend of Klavier's is a friend of mine. I've heard so much about you. It's wonderful to meet you at last."

Apollo wondered what Klavier had been saying about him, but when he glanced over at the prosecutor, his expression was completely neutral. "And here," said Colias. He stopped shaking Apollo's hand, and Apollo realized there was something in it. He started and looked down at his palm. There was what appeared to be a small package of cookies in the middle of it.

"Miss Trucy taught me that trick," the man said. "Those are Cohdopian orange wafers. I hope you'll enjoy them."

"He's a grown man, you don't have to give him cookies," said Klavier.

"No, they look great. Thanks!" Apollo slipped them into his vest pocket. He could give them to Mr. Wright later. "And it's very nice to meet you too."

"Did Klavier tell you about the theatre?"

"Ja, I did," said Klavier. "Is Ms. Melpomene here?"

"Yes, she's right here, darling," said Colias, as a tall, angular woman strode in from the next room. She had red hair, and she was dressed in a dark gray suit. She said something to Klavier, in that language he'd come to assume was the one they spoke in Cohdopia--Cohdopian, maybe?--and a moment later, Klavier, Colias, and the woman were all speaking at once. Apollo couldn't understand a word of what was being said, but Klavier seemed frustrated, Ms. Melpomene insistent, and Colias conciliatory.

He stood listening in silence to what seemed to be an argument until Klavier took a break and took him aside. "This could take a while. If you'd like, you can explore the embassy on your own for a bit. You can come and meet me in the lobby when you're done. If anyone asks, tell them you're here with Klavier. Everyone here will be happy to help you, if there's anything you need. Cohdopia is known for its hospitality."

Apollo wondered what was going on, but he assumed Klavier would tell him later. He was interested in seeing more of the embassy, so he had no complaints. "I'll see you soon, then."

It was fun to wander through the huge, elegant corridors on his own. He found a second, smaller portrait of Mr. Edgeworth in one of the hallways. Accompanying it were four other portraits, of which he recognized two: one of a woman he knew was Mr. Edgeworth's sister, and one of Mr. Edgeworth's detective, whose name he couldn't quite recall. The other two were of people he'd never seen before: a young woman with dark hair and a wolfish man with hair even spikier than Mr. Wright's.

He took a stroll through the butterfly garden Trucy had mentioned, which was a much better idea from a distance than close up. The butterflies seemed attracted to the gel in his hair, and when he was ready to return inside, he had a hard time getting rid of them without hurting them. It took him several minutes of careful waving to extricate himself.

The embassy seemed to have everything. There was a gift shop, a café, even a small art gallery, full of paintings by artists he'd never heard of, from a country he'd only recently heard of. When he'd satisfied his curiosity, he made his own way back to the theatre lobby. There he found Klavier, Colias, and the mysterious Ms. Melpomene.

Klavier and Ms. Melpomene were in the midst of a serious disagreement, while Colias watched in silence, looking from Klavier to the woman and back again. It was Colias who noticed Apollo first and crossed the room to meet him. "Hello again, Apollo! I hope you enjoyed your self-guided tour."

"I did, thank you."

"I'll have to see you're given a more thorough tour at a later date. I'm so sorry about this. You see, Ms. Melpomene is the designer in charge of the interior redesign, and unfortunately--" He paused to smile and put his hands together, as if to apologize for what he was about to say. "--she and I don't have very similar taste. I find it a bit difficult to disagree with her, so I asked Klavier to be my representative."

Apollo nodded, slowly. He was pretty sure that made some kind of sense.

Without warning, Colias' green eyes lit up. "I have a wonderful idea!"

"You do?" asked Apollo.

"Why don't you decide?"

At this exclamation, Klavier and the designer looked over, both wide eyed. Clearly, they had all but forgotten that there was anyone else in the room.

"Me?" Apollo asked. "I don't know anything about design."

"That's perfect. You're a completely neutral party, and you're an American citizen. The embassy exists to represent Cohdopia in the United States. So I'd say you're the most fit to decide."

That sounded like something a diplomat would say. Apollo wasn't entirely sure about representing his nation in this way, but he didn't want to cause an international incident of some kind by refusing the request of an actual ambassador. In addition, he was flattered to have been consulted on such an important matter. He did have great taste in colors, didn't he? Klavier was already starting toward him, making a warning gesture with one hand, but that couldn't stop Apollo from blurting out his answer in a voice only someone following his Chords of Steel regimen could have managed. "Why not make it red?" he suggested.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Colias clasped his hands together again, this time in delight. "Red is on both the US and Cohdopian flags. Such a bright, cheerful color. And it symbolizes love and courage."

"And it goes with Mr. Edgeworth's suit!" added Apollo, getting a little carried away and forgetting that he wasn't supposed to mention Mr. Edgeworth. But how could he fail to mention Mr. Edgeworth with that huge portrait glaring at him from the wall?

"You're right, I'm sure Mr. Edgeworth would approve." Colias seemed even more delighted by this turn in the conversation. "He even has a red car!"

"Mr. Edgeworth does have a cool car," Apollo agreed. He felt he and the ambassador were getting along very well.

By the time Klavier and Ms. Melpomene reached them, an instant later, it was too late. It had already been decided. "Red will be the primary color in the theatre's design scheme," Colias announced. "We'll make it warm and passionate."

"But Papa--," said Klavier.

"Ambassador Palaeno--," Ms. Melpomene protested.

"No, I've made up my mind, with Apollo's help." Colias patted him on the shoulder, and Apollo grinned.

He felt something in his hand and glanced down. He found himself holding a second package of cookies. When he looked up again, Klavier's dad winked at him. Apollo could see, very clearly, where Klavier got his eccentricity from. "Thanks for the cookies, Colias," he said.


"Herr Justice!"

Apollo turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Klavier was running down the courthouse steps toward him, so he waited. "Guten Tag, Apollo," said Klavier, addressing him more casually once they were face to face.

"Hi, Klavier. Good to see you."

"Are you free this evening?" he asked.

"I don't have anything in particular to do. Why?"

"I thought you might want to come to dinner."

"Dinner? What kind of dinner?"

"Why do you look so suspicious?" Klavier teased. "I'm not going to invite you to some awful dinner. No, I was going to see my papa tonight, and since he's been doing nothing but talking about you for the past few weeks, when I saw you, I thought to myself, 'Wouldn't it be nice if I could bring Herr Forehead with me and surprise him?'"

"I think you're only calling me Herr Forehead now because you're jealous, since your dad likes me so much."

"Ja, that is undeniably why. It has nothing to do with the actual size of your forehead."

"Well, you don't need to be jealous. I'm sure your father loves you best. But I'd be happy to go."

"Good. I'll pick you up tonight at the agency, then."

Probably that meant he'd have to ride on that motorcycle again. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to that. Maybe a little. "I'll be there."

"And Apollo?"


"Please don't give my father any more advice."

"Why not?"

"You'll see."

Klavier was right. He did see. As he dismounted from Klavier's bike and stood facing the theatre, he was fairly certain he had never seen anything more red in his life. The building was dazzlingly scarlet. "It really stands out," he said, admiringly. Colias might have had trouble making up his mind, but once he had made it, it was completely made, apparently.

The inside was red too, though accented with gold and mahogany. "Wow," said Apollo, a little overwhelmed. "This is amazing." The glare of Mr. Edgeworth's portrait seemed even more imposing in these grand surroundings.

"Oh, but you haven't seen my favorite part yet. Look." Klavier led him to one of the room's four corners, indicating the wall with a sweep of his arm.

Apollo looked. He blinked. There on the wall was yet another portrait, though much smaller than Mr. Edgeworth's massive one. It was of Apollo himself.

"My father is a patron of the arts, you might say. He is always looking for subjects for his portraitists to paint."

"I don't know what to say."

"The artist made your forehead look quite magnificent."

Apollo didn't comment on that comment. The whole situation was so wonderfully weird, it was a bit difficult to decide what to think about it, but he finally made up his mind. "It's great!" he declared, turning to get the full effect of the redone theatre again. "Your dad is fantastic."

"Ja, he is, isn't he?"

Apollo glanced at Klavier and saw that he was smiling broadly. He looked even more like his father when he did that.
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August 2012


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