A/N: I had this idea ever since I posted A Gangsta for Justice, and I was trying to hold off on it. But I just love the Justaki ship! Writing Wocky is one of my favorite things to do. It's the slang, lol. Also, I do not mean to offend anyone with this story's concept of a forced marriage. This is written for fun and should not be taken seriously. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ace Attorney series or any of the characters therein.

Apollo leaned over the steel wastebin and expelled the contents of his stomach. Again. He wiped his mouth with a feeble hand, careful not to stain his all-white tuxedo, declining the hankerchief offered by the mobster at his side. A torrent of fear, nerves, and melancholy churned its way through his core.

Kneeling in the guest room of the groom's home, Apollo tried to steady his heart, his breathing. But he failed all the while. There was nothing in the world that could remedy what Father Time had prepared for him only moments away. He was to attend his own wedding, gracing his awaiting groom with his presence and love, but it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Fantasies of an ideal wedding day seemed to settle at the bottom of the wastebin along with Apollo's breakfast; he had envisioned a seaside wedding with the love of his life—a casual affair complete with flower crowns, a huge cake, and his closest friends and family—however, he was in the process of marrying someone he had met only months beforehand, in a backyard formal ceremony.

But Apollo could look past the change in scenery and the time in which he met the groom. He wasn't one to let such petty matters define things. Sure, it troubled him that these changes weren't a part of his Ultimate Plan, nevertheless there were bigger problems to worry about: He was marrying against his will. And not to any average person. Apollo was tying the knot with the one-and-only, heir of the scariest mobster family he knew:

Wocky Kitaki.

Six Months Earlier

Apollo chuckled as he read the Funnies section of the newspaper, his feet propped up on his desk in the Wright Anything Agency. He was surrounded by mountains of case files he was instructed to peruse for details on a current case. It wasn't that Apollo was lazy or neglecting his duties. It was quite the opposite. He had poured over all of the files (twice!) for hours on end with no luck, exercising his need to be efficient and studious. Law was life. Life was law. He was going to take a much-needed break and go right back to work—

There was a knock on Apollo's office door, and the sound of Phoenix's voice:

"Hey...Apollo!"

Gah! Apollo lowered his feet to the floor and tossed the newspaper over his shoulder with a flourish. He picked up a file in an attempt to look professional, flipping absently through its pages. "M-Mr. Wright? Uh...Come in!"

Phoenix stepped into the office wearing his usual blue suit and smile. "Athena and I are taking a lunch break. We're thinking Eldoon's. Care to join us?"

Lunch? Apollo frowned at the clock on the wall. It read 11:30 AM. Isn't it a bit early for break? He then scrambled through the perfectly aligned stacks on his desk for it.

"Not again!" Phoenix sighed, sliding a hand down his face in exasperation, "You don't really need to...I-It's only a lunch break!"

Apollo was in search of his planner, where he scheduled every event in his life—from riding his bike to going to the restroom—down to the very minute. He was never so meticulous about his life until he read that it was the process for one of his attorney idols. Success was measured in routines. Preparation was everything.

"Today is the fifteenth..." Apollo mused to himself as he went through his schedule. He looked up at Phoenix with apprehension. "I can't go. Sorry. It says here that lunch is from 12:00 to 12:25—"

"I know. I figured we were all working hard and that we could all use a break. I'm starting to get cabin fever, honestly..." Phoenix rubbed the back of his head bashfully, an uneasy grin on his face.

Apollo tilted his head in confusion at the words "cabin fever." He loved going to work and being productive. He couldn't understand why the Agency would be a place to avoid. "I'm...Sorry?"

"Don't be." Phoenix motioned to the scattered newspaper behind Apollo's chair, wearing an amused expression that he only saved for playful ridicule. "Tell the pasta-loving cat I said hi."

It took seconds for Apollo to realize that Phoenix was referring to the comics he was reading earlier, and he blushed. "I w-wasn't...I read all the files! Twice!"

Phoenix held back a laugh. "Sure you did." He knew of Apollo's crazy work ethic (he wouldn't be surprised if the junior attorney read the files a third time), but he wanted to tease him a bit. Apollo's struggles to save face were hilarious, at best.

"See?" Apollo's voice rose to a high, frantic octave as he shoved an open journal in Phoenix's direction. The pages were crammed with neat, cursive handwriting. "I even took notes—!"

Apollo's words were cut off by the closing of the door, and he slumped in his chair in defeat. He sighed, reaching for the files on his desk. So much for that.

"...This case is a tough one, I know." Phoenix said. He had called the members of the Agency together at the end of the workday for an impromptu motivational speech, a speech that Apollo wasn't counting on.

I'm supposed to be at the store right now! Apollo planned to do some grocery shopping for his apartment right after work; he was dangerously low on food and this was the only time to go (so that he didn't miss the newest episode of the certain sci-fi show he obsessed over).

"We can do this, guys. We've been through worse. Just stay focused, and don't get discouraged..." Phoenix's voice was melting into a blur in Apollo's mind.

Apollo began to fidget, an anxious wreck, garnering attention from Athena and Trucy who gave him questioning glares. Ten minutes late...Ten minutes late...

Luckily Phoenix was beginning to wrap up his speech. As soon as he did, Apollo bolted out of the Agency, hopped on his bike, and raced off to the nearest store. Finally!

The shelves in the store were packed with foods Apollo wish he could afford. Their colorful packages tempted the young attorney, who tightened his grip on the handle of his basket; he insisted on getting nothing but the essentials (milk, bread, eggs, juice) when he spotted his favorite brand of cereal: Red Rockets.

Red Rockets were a sugary, space-themed cereal for kids which consisted of strawberry-flavored rocket-shaped grains. In every box was a holographic card of a planet (Apollo had hundreds of them) and on the back of them were basic facts about the planet itself (which Apollo committed to memory). Sitting on the shelf was the last box.

With enthusiastic hands, Apollo reached for the remaining box...only to see it drift out of his sight. Of course. Of course the last box isn't mine! If I came here ten minutes earlier...! "That's my box..." He began, turning to face the cereal culprit.

Once Apollo saw who he was talking to, he gasped and paled. In front of him stood Wocky Kitaki of Kitaki gangster fame. Crap.

Wocky stared at Apollo with wide eyes, his jaw practically hanging on the floor. He then clamped his mouth shut before relaxing and beaming like the Cheshire Cat. "Your box? Stop frontin', man! This here...belongs to me." He shook the box in Apollo's face.

"Th-Then it's all yours, Mr. Kitaki! Don't kill me!"

"Hey!" Wocky shouted, causing Apollo to jump a bit, "That ain't fair! I don't got your name. Whatzit?"

"What?" With so much adrenaline running through his body, Apollo mapped out various escape plans in this head. He was going to drop his basket, turn around, and dash out of the building as fast as he could—

"C'mon! You some kinda spy or somethin'? I wanna know your name!"

There was a pause.

Apollo gulped, reluctant. Why did Wocky need his name? As a friendly exchange? To put a hit out on him?

Wocky crossed his arms and pouted. "Okay, Agent 006. I gotchu! Tryin' to be all secret and shit!"

"It's...Apollo Justice."

"Justice? That's pretty G! I dig it!"

"...Sure."

At this time, it appeared as if Wocky blushed, but Apollo blamed the store's lighting.

"You said you want the box, amirite?" The gangster said slowly, eyeing the cereal in his possession.

Apollo, aiming for peace, shook his head. "Nope! Not a word!"

Wocky shrugged with indifference, tearing the cereal box open. He took out the bag containing the Rockets before holding the box out for Apollo to take.

You can't open the box without paying for it first! Flabbergasted, Apollo shrunk back, avoiding Wocky's attempts to pass the box to him. After several minutes he caved in and took it from Wocky's hand. "Thanks, I guess." Exactly how am I supposed to pay for this? At least I get the card inside.

"Don't worry 'bout it." Wocky's grin spread in a suggestive manner, "Imma sucka for Justice! See ya!" He turned on his heel, giggling and whispering under his breath, "Oh man...He was so cute I coulda died!"

Apollo came to a sudden realization:

Wocky Kitaki has a serious crush on me.