Work Text:
April 1 2027, 10:30am
Prosecutor’s Office
“Good morning, Mr. Blackquill!”
Blackquill bit down on the feather in his mouth with a clicking crunch, possibly to come across as intimidating. He didn’t put his pen down (still signing legal documents if he wanted to get out and prosecute again) only glancing up. “You.”
“Me!” Fulbright boasted, his hands at their regular on his hips. “I’m here to check in on you. How is everything coming along?”
Blackquill flitted through his documents before putting them down. “It’ll be done faster without you bothering me.”
“Oh, there’s no rush! You’re not going anywhere.” Fulbright sensed Blackquill about to snarl something awful and continued. “I’ll be out of your hair in a bit; I just wanted to show you something.”
He tensed, seeing Fulbright take a paper box out. In fact, he backed up a little as Fulbright started to open it. “I may have lost a sense of time, but I still know what day it is-” Blackquill paused, seeing the contents were a seemingly harmless cupcake and candle.
“Isn’t it cute? It was on my desk with a card,” Fulbright cooed. “The higher ups are always thinking of us.”
Blackquill wasn’t impressed, a little green in the face. “…someone is playing a prank on you and you’re showing it off to me like it’s a genuine present. An April Fool is too kind for you; you’re straight up an April Idiot.”
Fulbright faltered. “But it’s genuine. No one would prank a man on his birthday.”
A cold chill swept through the room. “Birthday?” Blackquill repeated.
“I’m not offended you didn’t know,” Fulbright assured, “we’ve only known each other a few weeks, what with me trying to get you back into the courts. It wouldn’t come up naturally, I’m sure.”
Blackquill pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your birthday is today. On April Fool’s Day.”
“Multiple things can happen on one day, sir. For example-”
“Your birthday,” Blackquill repeated, louder, “is on April Fool’s Day, Fool Bright?”
“Yes.”
“And you could honestly say the same in two hours when April Fool’s is over?”
Fulbright cringed. “I believe my birthday is all day, yes?”
Blackquill stared up at him from his desk chair, his perch. “Quite like the men at the clink, your truth is stranger than any fiction.”
The detective laughed. “I’m glad I remind you fondly of your friends.” As Blackquill shot a dirty look, Fulbright took out a lighter. Glancing at the seated man, he turned his body slightly to hide any visual on either item, only coming back with the candle lit and the lighter palmed. “Since they gave me the candle, it’s only right to make a wish!”
Coldly, Blackquill laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps you should wish yourself an entirely new personality overhaul.”
Pouting, the detective faked tears. “That’s an awful thing to say, Mr. Blackquill!”
Blackquill rolled his eyes.
“Besides,” ‘Fulbright’ thought, gently blowing out the candle, “I already wished for that last year.”