Errr... IT's been way too long since I've written a fic. Tok me about an hour and a half, on and off. I'm sorry if it's completely and utterly LAAAAAME...

Also, I haven't played AJ, but meenie heads have spoilerized it, but I'm not sure on Kristoph's character...

Tried to sex it up in the end, but I guess I kinda blew it, tharrrr...

Anyhoo, enjoy, if you can.

--

I was in the 700's hallway, every day - passing periods, lunch, and right after school.

What is now a memory I'd have rather repressed in the first place was the only thing I could have considered my own recreational activity at the time. I wore a blue sash with red lettering, reading "PEER MEDIATION," and a name tag of my own design (This coming from a rather monotonous ice-breaker as the club met for the first time that trimester.). I was also readily equipped with a clipboard and royal blue pen.

In all honesty, I looked like Miss America, and no one was above pointing this out to any hall monitor at the time. There were fifteen of us in the Peer Mediation Club, and each of us either suffered greatly or mindlessly enjoyed that kind of remark, gender being the general factor. We were nine year olds, either a pretty lady or a ruthless warrior, and it wasn't supposed to mesh at our age. After a while, I started hiding it in my backpack and chose to, instead, work undercover.(I still kept clipboard, but it was me in cognito at the time, and I kept that fantasy to myself.)

It was rather a boring job, raising your voice to holler at your friends to stop running wasn't very cool for anyone(As if anyone actually listened.), but getting caught up in fights was an obligatory upgrade in the club to God Mode.

It was nearing the end of the first trimester, after school. Larry went so out of character as to kiss a fifth grader who had already devoted the rest of her good long life to her boyfriend, who was oddly enough a fourth grader like the two of us. Anyway, it was on the opposite end of the hall, near the exit to the field and kids were roaring as I saw Larry shoved into a trash can(It was so ferocious then, I wonder how it is in elementary school now.). Phoenix wasn't there - he rode the bus home. Lucky for him, or he would have tried himself to interfere, but this kid was big. Bigger than either of us, anyway.

I was dumb enough to think my clipboard, however, was the biggest, and I earned quite the "shiner" before the Assistant Principle intervened. Larry was out with a welt, and the three of us were RPC'ed.

Anyway, that was elementary school. That was when I lived in America.

Then it was "primary school", in Germany, and I could only move forward. Eventually, I was in "secondary", and I happened to do very well (I was in the top three in my class - particularly hard for males in Gymnasium). Either way, I was in the club then, as well. Uniforms were sadly no kinder to our ego. Instead, a school shirt was included.(Oddly, the nametag making ceremony made a comeback, as well.)

This time, I was in the basement of the main building, perfect for romantic getaways, apparently...

Why do these things always happen after school? I guess no one can afford to ditch classes anymore (No one should, mind you, but there's always an emergency or self-prescribed vacation in order.) I was allowed to check in and leave, just fifteen minutes to go, but I heard something fall over. Than hall was clean, so I assumed it came from the bathroom; the noise sounded muffled enough, so it was the door, I guess. I took caution, but I wasn't expecting to be pulled inside by two asinine, sex-driven, fiendish me--

--

"So that's where I recognize you from," He pushed his glasses up with a smirk condescending enough to let you know he was trying not to laugh. "Miles Edgeworth."

"Excuse me?" He gave one glance to Phoenix, seated at his right, and looked back at the man behind the glass.

"I remember you perfectly now. I only thought the hair was a mere coincidence..." Smugly, he eyed the ex-defense attorney through his glasses. "Funny how things tie together like this." He laced his fingers and rested his elbows on the table. "But, you really do tend to ramble on about absolutely pointless things when you find yourself too close to bourbon whiskey."

"So it was you?!" Edgeworth smacked his hand on the table, scanning his eyes over the guilty party across from him.

"Phoenix. Tell your cheaply drunken friend here to refrain from making me repeat myse--"

"There's nothing wrong with anyone wanting to meet the man who fucked over his man's career, now don't be so brash, Kristoph." Phoenix slid his binkie over his eyes and rested his hands on his stomache, his legs crossed on the counter. "It was his idea to meet you anyway. You're lucky I sent Apollo out for the drinks, or God couldn't even keep Miles from breaking that glass right now, and surely you know why." He shifted his eyes to Edgeworth. "Right, Miles?" Before the man could answer,

"You know, you really did look like Miss America."

"Shut the Hell up..."