Author's Notes: This was written for the Phoenix Wright kink meme. The requester wanted a little Lana/Edgeworth, and the story that popped into my head ran away with me. Ever since her cameo in one of my other stories (Twelve Years of Christmas), I've wanted to explore the relationship between Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth a bit more. The games give you just enough info to imagine what it might have been like.
He didn't notice it at first.
When Lana Skye became the Chief Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth was surprised and more than a little alarmed at the news. The office was one of the highest, most respected positions in his profession. It should not be handed out on a whim to a mere detective, no matter how successful her track record. She had no real prosecutorial experience! How could she manage the city's courts when she only knew how to manage crime scenes?
Despite his misgivings, he attended the induction ceremony, of course. It would have been rude not to. And besides, he had worked closely with her on the Darke trial; it might have seemed suspicious if he did not make an appearance. Though the case had been closed for a few weeks, the media was still fascinated with it. Lana Skye's unusual promotion fanned the fires of conspiracy theories, and the rumors ran the gamut from mundane evidence tampering to more lurid sexual favors in exchange for power. He believed none of it.
The horde of journalists outside their offices hurled questions at Edgeworth as he pushed through, asking him to comment on Lana's new career. He steadfastly ignored them. He thought he heard the words 'Demon Prosecutor' rise above the din, and he clutched at his elbow and slammed the glass doors behind him as he hurried toward the stairwell.
The ceremony took place on the tenth floor. It was a formal affair, and he had put aside his usual coat in favor of a simpler black-tie tux. Lana stood stiffly on the small stage as the new Chief of Police, Damon Gant, introduced her. She was wearing a low-cut, dark red evening gown paired with an elegant long red scarf. She looked at the well-dressed crowd with steely eyes, as though she knew what most of the other prosecutors in attendance were thinking: she didn't belong with them.
In her short acceptance speech she acknowledged her lack of experience. She also argued that courtrooms were little different from crime scenes, and her knowledge of police work would serve as a bridge between those who collected the evidence and those who would use it to put criminals away. Edgeworth expected to see her become more animated during her speech, to see some of the passion she had when they coordinated on the Darke trial, but she remained ramrod straight and made only small gestures.
Her speech was to-the-point, and Edgeworth watched his peers mull over her words. He, on the other hand, did not concentrate on her words so much as on how she delivered them. The Lana Skye he had worked with not so long ago had been vibrant, cheerful, and determined. Now, something in her bearing, in her eyes, betrayed a change in her. She was more distant, colder. He wondered at that, and, he had to admit, he felt as reassured as he was puzzled by her changed demeanor. Perhaps she understood the responsibility of her new position, and had adopted a more somber attitude in deference to it. If that were the case… she might work well as the Chief after all.
After the speeches and ceremony, the mingling began. A small band had been hired for the occasion, and light jazzy music floated through the air as the prosecutors and other officials sipped expensive cocktails and swayed on the dance floor. A few of his coworkers had asked Edgeworth to dance, but he had politely declined. He seldom engaged in social affairs, and he did not want to spend his evening pretending to be charmed by his insipid peers.
Instead, Edgeworth approached the corner where Lana was greeting her new subordinates. The police chief loomed behind her, his booming laugh audible from across the room. She caught his eye as she took a sip of her drink, and she maneuvered her way to him. Her dress swished about her ankles as she moved. "Miles Edgeworth. It is a pleasure to see you again."
"And you, Chief Prosecutor Skye." He tilted forward slightly in a small bow. "Congratulations on your promotion. I hope you'll bring the same dedication to your new office that you did as a detective."
"Thank you." She tilted her head to the side a bit and peered at him thoughtfully. "You are the first person this evening to have told me 'congratulations' and meant it, at least a little. Surely you must have some reservations about my new role?"
He thought quickly as he straightened. She was his superior now, and his answer could have great repercussions on his career. He slipped on his mask of confidence and smirked. "To be perfectly honest, I do have my share of doubts. Never before has anyone so young and so new to the profession held the title of Chief." He shook his head as he gestured toward her. "However, I have had the opportunity to work with you. I believe you will learn quickly and will guide us justly."
The corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes softened, just a little. She looked more like the Lana Skye he was familiar with. "Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth."
"Ahh, Worthy!" Edgeworth felt a broad hand clap down on his shoulder suddenly and he jumped, startled. "I'm glad to see you here." He shifted and looked behind him into the grinning face of Damon Gant.
"Chief Gant." He tried to dislodge himself from Gant's hold, but the man's fingers held on tightly.
"Isn't this a happy reunion?" Gant's eyes twinkled. "I'm sure you'll give my former partner the utmost respect in her new position, won't you, Worthy?"
"Of course, Sir." He felt uneasy; Gant's presence always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"And I know Chief Skye will be happy to work with a familiar face. Isn't that right, Lana?"
"Yes, that's right." Her expression had shifted back to a neutral state, her tone flat.
Gant didn't seem to notice. "We have a lot to look forward to, I think. A brilliant mind at the police station, and a brilliant mind at the prosecutor's office. And you too, Worthy, Manny's wonderful protégé. You proved yourself quite capable with the Darke trial."
"Thank you, Sir." Edgeworth narrowed his eyes, wondering just how well the new police chief was acquainted with his mentor.
Gant laughed, the sound loud in Edgeworth's ear. "We've all benefitted tremendously from the Darke trial, haven't we? People will be watching, making sure we're a cut above, making no mistakes."
The police chief was looking directly at Lana, and Edgeworth sensed something pass unspoken between them. Gant's stare turned sharp. "Rumors have a way of spreading, don't they?"
She squared her shoulders, standing defiant. "Rumors will affect neither my office nor my subordinates."
"Good to hear!" Gant finally released Edgeworth's shoulder to clap his hands together. "Carry on, then. Lots of people to say hello to."
Lana drew in a sharp breath and released it quickly once the police chief walked away. "Well, Mr. Edgeworth. He is correct – it will be good to work with you once more."
Edgeworth rolled his shoulder, as if he could shake off the feeling of Gant's heavy hand. "I'm looking forward to it, Ms. Skye."
They stood awkwardly, neither one sure of how to end the conversation. She took one final sip of her drink and placed the empty glass on the table behind her. "Join me for a dance, Mr. Edgeworth?"
The refusal was on his lips, but she had turned her gaze on him again. It was hard to tell what she was thinking – there was something solid and determined in her eyes, and something that made her seem immeasurably sad. She offered her hand toward him, and he found himself taking it.
They headed into the throng on the dance floor as the band started up a new song. She settled her other hand on his shoulder and he placed his on her waist, holding her lightly. Her dress was smooth. They fell into a simple box step, turning in circles.
He could feel the eyes of their peers on them as they moved. Lana stood a few inches shorter than him, though with her heels she was closer to his height. They matched each other step for step and Lana's scarf flowed out behind her, a shadow following after them. He thought she moved quite gracefully. Even without any mirrors, Edgeworth imagined they made a striking image on the dance floor.
"Mr. Edgeworth." He turned his head toward her, but she was looking away from him. "I wish to thank you again for your work in the Joe Darke trial."
"I was merely doing my job, Ms. Skye. Criminals like him must be put away for good." He was actually quite proud of his work on the trial. Darke was, without a doubt, a monstrous killer. He felt better knowing that such a man could hurt no one else.
"I know the circumstances of the trial were strange." Her voice was low, and he wondered which part of the trial she was referencing. The evidence was a bit shaky, though enough for him to win a conviction. Her sister had provided sketchy testimony – literally, as the poor girl could only draw a picture of what she witnessed. There were also rumors that Lana's romantic involvement with one of the detectives on the case had ended due to the trial.
She was personally connected to the case in so many ways. It had brought her tremendous opportunity, with her promotion, but had cost her a great deal as well.
She finally looked toward him as they spun around. "You got swept up into it, too." Her mouth was turned down, brows dipped in a small frown. "There are many rumors now – about me, and about you too."
He clenched his jaw. "I am well aware of the media's fixation with the case, and the moniker they have given me."
"The rumors are not restrained to just the press." The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. "I am sorry that you must endure it."
"It's not a problem, Ms. Skye. People will always speak as they wish, but it will not stop me from convicting the guilty."
"I am happy to hear that." She gave him a tight, sad smile before she closed her eyes. She turned her head aside once more and leaned forward slightly, almost resting against his shoulder. "I…" She didn't finish.
The song wound down. Edgeworth leaned her back, finishing the dance with an elegant dip. Most men would have taken the opportunity to glance at her cleavage, but he kept his eyes on Lana's face. When she rose, that dead look was in her eyes again, and he wondered what had changed so much to put it there.
He didn't know what to say to her; he was never the best at casual conversation. Now that the dance was over, he had no reason to be near her. Rather than stand around awkwardly again, he gave her a small bow and hurriedly excused himself.
He darted his eyes around the room. Many people were glancing between him and the Chief Prosecutor, and he imagined he could already hear their whispers. His eyes fell on the police chief, who was watching him intently. When he met Edgeworth's gaze he flashed him an unnerving, ear-splitting grin.
Edgeworth felt like he was enclosed in a very small space, like he couldn't pull enough air into his lungs. He pushed through the crowd toward the exit and took the stairs as fast as he could.