Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all characters are copyright by CAPCOM; I'm just a fan imitating. The stories presented are influenced by the multiple games as well as the comic (Manga written by Kenji Kuroda).

Fall Out

Miles Edgeworth awoke to the cold gray light of morning. He stared up at his ceiling, it was Saturday and today he turned thirty-five. And he was alone. Edgeworth frowned at the thoughts crowding his mind. His father was thirty-five when he died.

And he still had more to show for his thirty-five years on this earth than Miles Edgeworth did. Edgeworth bit his lip and gave the ceiling a hard glare. There was no point in dwelling in this kind of self-pity. He sat up and looked toward the yellowing sky.

He slid off of the bed and looked down at it. Yes, he'd been alone in this bed for a long time. But then, it was nice having it all to himself, wasn't it?

He started to unbutton his silky pajama top and dropped the slippery garment onto the unmade bed. What was all this fanatical worship of youth anyway? He'd never been better. He was in his prime.

Edgeworth dropped to floor to do his pushups. One had to properly fill out one's suit after all. These habit had become monotonous and in that way comfortable.

He went to the bathroom after his morning callisthenic routine and shot a glare at that idiot with the ridiculous hair glaring back from the mirror. When he'd finished his business he washed his hands carefully running the song "Happy Birthday" in his head as he did so. Because all the bathrooms in the courthouse had signs that told him it was just the right length of time to wash his hands in order to prevent spreading the flu.

He shook out his hands and wiped them with a fluffy magenta hand towel before taking up his electric toothbrush and loading it with toothpaste. He met those stormy gray eyes in the mirror, glaring before sticking his toothbrush in his mouth.

What would he do today? Isn't this a red letter day? After all, one only turns thirty-five once. What's that Mister Jerk in the Mirror? You want to hide out in your flat and hope no one calls you? Come on!

He ran the water when he was done, letting it get hot and then took his badger hair shave brush and lathered up the soap in the bowl until it was smooth and foaming. He brushed shave soap onto his chin. Yes, a man of thirty-five must shave. Gone are those days of skipping a day or two because no one would notice the peach fuzz on his chin. No, he was so much more mature now.

Edgeworth let the water run over his razor and then finished up. He patted his now smooth face and glanced in the mirror again. My, but you ARE a handsome fellow, aren't you?

He put down the towel and frowned at that face. Then why are you still single? I just haven't found the right one. Or perhaps you think you're better than everyone else? No, that's not it. That's not it at all.

Edgeworth pulled off the rest of his clothes and got in the shower. He made the water hot, so that he could hide in the steam and block that offending mirror.

After a quick shower he toweled off and went into his room to dress. There was a mirror there too. Do you just like looking at yourself? It isn't like that at all, you see, one must make sure one is properly attired. That is all.

The man in the full-length mirror smirked back at him. You're just conceited. That's why no one likes you.

His dark hair was slicked back from the shower and he'd managed to put on a pair of shorts and some socks. The Jerk in the Mirror grinned. You need to make amends with that guy. You're thirty-five now, it's all downhill from here.

I thought thirty was the new twenty?

Who says that? Old people that's who! Look at you old guy!

Edgeworth stared at himself in the mirror. He'd managed to stay lean and fit in spite of himself—or maybe because he'd always worried what the old man might say if he'd let himself go.

I couldn't let myself go, he told the Jerk in the Mirror. One must strive for perfection in all things. He slid a hand over his taut belly. The softness of youth had burned of in recent years. There he was, a man of thirty-five. All hard angles and sinew... and hair.

That's why people go and get waxed. As if I have time for that.

Maybe you should make time, you gross old man.

Edgeworth dragged a tee-shirt over his head.

You are neither gross nor old.

How do you plan to celebrate this momentous occasion?

Really, it's just a day like any other. Why bother making a fuss? I really should go by the office and check up on those cases that just hit the docket.

Why must you be so boring? Is there any other way you would define yourself?

Edgeworth frowned at the Jerk in the Mirror as he slid on a pair of dark slacks and buttoned them around his narrow hips.

You should have been married years ago. Instead you gave your life to this? Justice, a mistress so hungry and cruel, that she never let you live your life otherwise?

Justice was never so oppressive a mistress. These were the choices I've made. This was the path I'd chosen. This is what I've strived to attain.

Then why are you so disappointed?

Edgeworth cocked his head at his reflection, I'm not disappointed.

That made him smile a little. No after thirty-five years, I am quite satisfied. I don't need to measure myself by other people's milestones. I have a much different measuring stick. In my life I've wanted peace and truth.

I have peace and truth.

What about friendship?

I have many I can count as my friends. I am not wanting in that regard. Not anymore.

What about love?

I have people who love me. Don't I?

Edgeworth went to his wardrobe and flipped through his dress shirts. I am perfectly satisfied with who I am. I don't need accolades from without.

I don't need to be reminded constantly of what I have, because I know it's enough.

The shirt he chose was pale salmon. He slid it on over his tee-shirt and buttoned it starting from the bottom. He tucked the tails into his pants and then buckled his belt.

I love you, he smiled at the Jerk in the Mirror. The Jerk was smiling back. In the end isn't that where you've been trying to get to?

Yes, I think so.

He found a tie, in pale blue and coral paisley, and slid it around his neck. He stared at his own deft hands as he tied a double Windsor knot like it was his job.

You are so classic.

Thank you, I try my best.

Edgeworth grinned one last time at the mirror and the man staring back at him.

"Happy Birthday, Miles Edgeworth."

A/N: If you read this, thank you!

I know it's weird. But I had to murder this plot bunny. I'll bet Edgeworth is still hot at 35.

Please review and let me know how much this ruined your day...