and i'm not angry i won't be forever angry

[moonsheen]

The phone rang. Apollo picked up.

“Wright and Co. Law Offices,” he said, and maybe a little more bored than he should’ve, but in all fairness it was usually a sale’s call. “You name it, we serve it. That tagline was not my idea.”

“Justice,” said a voice on the other end. “Is that you? Listen, it’s important--”

Apollo slammed the phone down so hard that the desk shook. Trucy looked up. Apollo shrugged, and combed his hair back quickly to save face. “Wrong number.”

Then the phone rang again.

“Look,” said the woman. “I’d really like to talk.”

“And I really, really wouldn’t,” said Apollo.

…except that third time it rang she didn’t give him a chance to tell her off. “I’M PREGNANT.”

“WHAT?” Apollo shot up out of his seat. “LOOK, DAPHNE WE HAVEN’T…” Trucy was still looking at him. “DATED IN TWO YEARS.”

There was a smug pause. “I know. But that kept you on the line.”

He had to give her that. He leaned over the desk and shut his eyes, trying to stave off the growing headache throbbing somewhere in the bridge of his nose. Trucy had crept over to the desk now. Mr. Hat leaned in with interest. She left the pins she’d been teaching him to juggle on the floor. “What do you want?”

“A lawyer.”

“Okay, if that’s true. One. Are you drinking? Because you know how I feel about that. And two, why me?”

“I’m not any happier about this.” There came a sound from the other end, a heavy crunch, like a boot coming down on broken glass. “But…” Her voice cracked, slightly. “You’re the one person who ever scored higher than me on one of Professor Pierce’s research papers so…”

“Daphne?”

She took a heavy breath. He could hear her shifting the phone against her cheek. “I’m serious. I think I’m going to be in a bit of trouble soon. Very soon.”

Sirens sounded somewhere in her distance. This was getting a little too film noir for Apollo’s liking. He opened his mouth to say so.

“I have to go,” said Daphne, “Come to the station. I’ll probably be there by the time you get out...”

“Okay. But what happened?”

“He’s dead.”

She hung up. Naturally.

Apollo held the phone away from his head and stared. Then he said a nasty word. Then he told Trucy not to repeat and vaulted over the desk and for the door. Mr. Wright chose that moment to make his presence known. His head appeared over the arm of the nice sofa they kept for clients. There weren’t ever many clients, so it was easy for him to crash there. Propped up on his elbows, his tie hung crooked and his shirt collar had popped. The spikes stuck out distinctly to the left.

“Mm? What’s this about? Those were a lot of determined deskslams.”

Apollo stuffed his coat under his arm. “Not much. I think my ex-girlfriend just killed someone.”

Mr. Wright scratched his chin. “Huh. They do that sometimes.”

“Can I go, Daddy?” asked Trucy.

“Have you finished your homework?”

“All except the math.”

“Then it’s fine as long as you get help with it later.”

And by ‘get help’ he means ‘me’, I’ll bet, thought Apollo miserably. He fumbled for his bus pass, grabbed Trucy’s shoulder, and swept out the door.

Comments

[incandescens]

... please write more of this. This is great.

(And if it turns out to be a crossover with Scooby Doo, I may faint.)