A/N: Okay, before you guys go on and read the story, I just want to say HI. No one probably knows me anymore, I mean I used to post a bunch of Ace Attorney fics, but I took them all down years ago and changed my name a lot, sp here's kind of my come back. Honestly, I just hope it makes up for taking all my other fics down, and I just hope you guys enjoy! COMMENTS DOWN THERE! Okay here - lostconcoctions

BY THE WAY, there will be a LOT of sexual content over here so just know, you have been warned.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except for the idea

"Dude, I can't believe it!"

"You're a fucking liar, that's is just not possible. She wouldn't. She's… how do you put this…Detective Skye."

"It's true, man. I know. But she's fucking wasted and I heard her myself, she shouted it out loud."

"Holy crap…can we watch?"

Ema wasn't the type to party. Heck, she wasn't even the type to leave her house, regardless of her weekly restocking of Snackoos and of course, her job as detective. But here she was, at around twelve midnight, as drunk as she ever would be.

The brunette never drank. Only on special occasions when Lana would have her come over, they would share a bottle of wine. Even after she was released from jail, she still wasn't able to have much sisterly bonding time since her job took up almost every waking hour Ema had. But no, here was a party in the form of a business outing. Ema guessed it was just the Chief having a midlife crisis and wanting to feel young again.

Ema stumbled through the foyer packed with co-workers, detectives, police officers, and anyone of any rank that was invited. It was the Chief's place, big and spacious, a typical, regal mansion. Who knew this guy got paid so much while I get dirt? Ema thought, though that wasn't what was racking her brain so badly. Events of just minutes ago swam through the back of her mind, though she couldn't quite paint a clear picture of it. Everyone else though, knew what she said.

"Oh fuck you, you smart asses!" Ema had slurred, slamming down the shot glass that was previously filled to the brim with Cuervo tequila. It had shattered into pieces right under her hand, though luckily she wasn't wounded. She literally felt like someone had put on some Payne's glasses on her, because all she saw were blurry figures everywhere, cheering her on. The detective, clad in a champagne colored blouse and a tight pencil skirt, hair in its usual style, lifted her chin and smirked, bringing up a middle finger towards the Forensic scientists who were all gathered by the fireplace.

"You're all—You're all…" She hiccupped, "You're all just…assholes, God dammit I'd be one of you assholes if only that damn forensics test was easier!"

"D-Detective, you really, er, I think you have to calm down…" one of the officers said, "How 'bout take a seat?"

Ema spun around on her heels to face the voice, eyes wide and face red. "Oh shove it up your ass Robert!"

She had enough. She was worked to the bone, tired as hell, and forced by nitwit Apollo to accompany him since he had never officially gone to these kinds of things. Ema wasn't exactly open to admitting that she didn't go out much either, so out of embarrassment, she complied. She stumbled into the kitchen, where fellow detectives where there, talking back and forth about topics, but were very drunk.

"Ms. Skye, it's so nice of you to join us." Someone said. Ema didn't know. She didn't even know where the hell she was. Sink. Ah. Kitchen?

"Thank you…um, what's your…" Ema prodded, leaning against the counter.

"Hank."

"Alright detectives, what were y'all talkin' about before I got here?" Ema asked slyly, eyeing everyone who had gathered around the counter. She hopped on it and took a seat, crossing her legs as she adjusted herself on top of it. Nope, she didn't care that pretty much everyone around her was eyeing the hell out of her tight outfit, and that yes, they were all typically men.

"Er, actually, we were discussing…" one started.

"Uh…"

"Spit it out!" Ema groaned. Where are my Snackoos when you need them! And why isn't chief serving them as cocktails?

"How much work load we have, and how we haven't really had time to tend to our relationships, if you know what I mean…" A green-eyed detective said. Ema would figure out his name…tomorrow. Hopefully.

"You mean sex?" she snorted. Even in her drunken state, she understood all the innuendo. Ema tried to recall the first time she even had sex, but decided to tuck it into the back of her mind. This was not the time to be thinking about that, especially since she was on the risk of spilling the story to everyone.

"Well, yes." Moustached detective said. Fuck, have I met these people? Ema thought. "If someone sucked me off right now, I probably would barely last ten minutes."

"Anyone?" Another said slyly, "I've got the man just for you."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I can do way better. I'll bet you I can do fifteen." Green eyes added smugly.

"Seventeen." Another said.

"Twelve—"

"Twenty—"

"That's bullshit—"

"It's not bullshit, I'll even time it if—"

"You guys are all such boys!" Ema groaned in frustration, knocking over some plates and napkins that took up the rest of the counter space. The boys shut up to listen to her. She jumped off from her place and threw her arms up. "I bet—" she slurred, "I bet you, none of you would even last with me! Five…no—" What am I saying? "Ten…" Ema! Shut your— "Ten minutes!"

"Challenge accepted, mein fraulien."

Holy. Shit.