A/N: Behold! The long-awaited(?) sequel to Long Arm of the Law!

I didn't go into huge detail with character description, so if you want to know what the aforementioned OCs look like, go to my tumblr and search under the "Janaverse" tag. If you don't know how to get there, I put a link on our profile.


She had been waiting for a certain someone to show up for quite some time now, but they had yet to. Then someone finally showed their face.

"Hey, wait a minute-"

There was a struggle, then a gunshot. Started, the unwounded one dropped the gun and took off sprinting, leaving her to die in the alleyway.

She was fading fast and knew there was no hope for her. Shivering, she dipped her fingers in her own spreading pool of blood and began to write on the pavement - not a name, but…


January 13, 10:00 AM, District Court, Courtroom #4

It was Jana's first trial, but she wasn't nervous. Not all. It wasn't like she had anything to prove, of course. Just because both her parents were prosecutors didn't mean she felt as though her entire life - all fourteen years of it - was on the line because she was debuting as a defense attorney.

"If you grip your riding crop any harder, it's going to break," her Uncle Wright said. He was her co-counsel - she hadn't wanted one, since prosecutors don't have to debut with co-counsels, but Wright had insisted that she have someone. That someone ended up being him because he seemed to think that letting Jana's co-counsel be her mentor, Uncle Kristoph, was a bad idea. Feh. What did he know?

"I am not nervous," Jana said. Wright sighed.

"I didn't say you were."

The Judge - a middle-aged woman named Juniper Justice that Jana knew very little about, except for the fact that she was the ex-wife of one of the senior lawyers at Wright Anything Agency, where Jana worked - banged her gavel a few times. "Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Ace Gumshoe," she said.

Jana stole a glance at the defendant's stand - there was Ace alright, dark-haired, big-eyed, 25-year-old son of the police chief, current detective, and walking disaster zone. "The defense is ready, your Honor," she said, looking back at the Judge and steeling herself.

"The prosecution is ready as well, your Honor," the boy dressed in purple behind the prosecution's bench said. His name was Alois, he was two years older than Jana… and was also her brother.

"See," Jana muttered, "Alois doesn't have to have a co-counsel."

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," Wright replied, "and besides, look at the gallery just behind him. Blackquill is right there."

That was true. Jana knew both of their parents were somewhere in the gallery, but not by Alois, at least. Of course, that was because Alois hadn't directly studied under either of them, opting instead to learn "suggestive psychology" under Simon Blackquill. Jana wondered if he would even try to use it in a trial against her. She knew him far too well for fall for any of his tricks.

"It seems as though both the prosecution and the defense are getting younger every year," the Judge commented. Jana suddenly remembered the comment Kristoph had once made about all district judges having to get lobotomies, and, come to think of it, she wasn't sure that was a joke or not.

"Yes, your Honor," Alois said, "both of us recently passed the bar exam."

"We are prodigies," Jana added helpfully.

"I see," said the Judge, "well, Mr., um, von Karma-Gavin… oh my, this could get confusing."

"I have a solution for the problem of the shared last names," Jana offered, pointing her riding crop towards Alois, "you may call me Ms. von Karma, and him, Mr. Gavin."

"Well, Mr., er, Gavin?" the Judge said.

"I see no reason to object," Alois replied, bowing slightly.

"Very well," said the Judge, banging her gavel, "Mr. Gavin. Your opening statement, please."

Alois nodded. "On the night of January 11," he said, looking at his paper, "the defendant, Ace Gumshoe, was witnessed arguing with the victim, Detective Airey Verkhovensky. Shortly after this argument was witnessed, a gunshot was heard. Detective Verkhovensky was found dead in the, um, 'desolate alleyway' - where, mind you, she was seen summoning the defendant to before she left work - not long after that. The defendant's fingerprints were found on the gun recovered from the crime scene. Additionally, Detective Verkhovensky left a dying message, which the prosecution believes was intended towards the defendant." The gun, the autopsy report, and a photograph of the word "Overcoat" written in blood popped up in the Court Record.

Jana glanced over the autopsy report. Airey Verkhovensky, 27 years old, Police Detective originally from Atlanta, in Los Angeles on some sort of "detective exchange program" that probably had something to do with drug routes, cause of death: loss of blood due to a bullet wound in the abdomen. Her picture showed a thin, bespectacled androgyne with short dark hair and pale skin (she wasn't very photogenic, Jana noted). There was nothing particularly interesting in the report except for a strangely long list of things found in her pockets, which included gum, pliers, a screwdriver, electrical tape, a first aid kit with money in it for some reason, and even another gun (which had no fingerprints on it), but strangely enough, no cell phone. There was also a scribbled note from the coroner about how he was glad "she dead and abrasive personality gone with her," although that didn't accomplish anything except for amusing Jana.

There was nothing weird about the gun recovered from the crime scene - a police-issued gun assumed to belong to Ace - although she did raise her eyebrows at the photograph of the dying message. "Objection!" she yelled - she refused to admit the possibility that she might be a little overexcited - "what makes you think that this word is naming Ace Gumshoe as the culprit? It is merely a word, nothing more."

Alois shook his head, his smile a lot like their father's. "Of course," he said, "Detective Verkhovensky was notoriously bad with names. It seems as though, even in her dying moments, she could not remember the name of the one who shot her, so she wrote down his identifying feature: the fact that he always wears an overcoat."

Jana looked at the defendant's stand again. Ace was, in fact, still wearing his overcoat, which he probably thought made him look big and manly like his father, but only emphasized how scrawny he was. Foolish fool, Jana thought. "Objection!" she said again, "there are plenty of others who wear overcoats! Even your jacket could be considered an overcoat!"

Alois shook his head again, then leaned forward. "Surely you've noticed that the murder weapon was police-issued gun? Detective Verkhovensky's own gun was found on her person, so the culprit must have brought his own." He straightened. "Now, the only people on the force who get a gun but are still allowed to dress in civilian clothes, as opposed to a uniform, are the detectives. Of the detectives, only three people routinely wear overcoats: Detective Verkhovensky herself, Detective Noir, who has an alibi, and Detective Ace Gumshoe."

Jana growled. The dying message was still a problem. "How do you know it refers to someone who wore an overcoat routinely? She could have been referring to someone who was simply wearing an overcoat when they shot her."

"What would that accomplish?" Alois replied, "Don't forget, Airey Verkhovensky was a detective. Even if she was bleeding to death, she would still have had the presence of mind to leave an actually useful clue."

"That is conjecture!" Jana snapped.

"Keep in mind that dying messages like that are usually faked, at least in my experience," Wright told her, "so for now, just set it aside. It'll come up later."

"I agree," said the Judge, "Mr. Gavin, please call your first witness."

"Yes, your Honor," Alois said, putting his hands behind his back, "the prosecution calls the eye-witness, Genma H. Butirate."

A somewhat emaciated-looking man with nappy hair and sallow skin took the stand. He was dressed in a brightly-colored hoodie - the hood of which was pulled up over his head, shadowing his eyes - and black cargo pants.

"Witness, name and occupation, please," Alois said.

"M-My name is Genma H., uh, Butirate, sir," he said in a Southern accent, looking around nervously, "I d-don't currently have a, a, job."

"Please tell the court what you witnessed the night of the 11th," Alois instructed.

"Yessuh," Butirate said, quailing under the gaze of the Judge, even though she seemed like a pretty harmless kind of lady, "I, uh, was walking by that there alleyway where I, um, heard tw-wo people, uh, arguin'. I didn't see them, but they was, er, they were definitely that detective with the overcoat and that man over at the d-defendant's stand. I didn't w-wanna get involved, so I left, but I c-came back when I heard, I heard a gunshot. I've been aroun-nd gunfire before, so I hid, aaaand I saw the defendant shoot the de-detective again and then run by. He wasn't holdin' a gun or nothing'. After that, I c-called the po-po-police." He finished off his testimony with a frightened glance around the courtroom, and Jana noted that he was twitching.

"I ask that the defense goes easy on the witness," Alois said with the slightest trace of sarcasm, "seeing as he is clearly uncomfortable with courts."

"Y-Yessuh that's right, sir," Butirate said.

"I take it Alois doesn't bother background-checking his witnesses," Wright commented.

"Very well," said the Judge, "Ms. von Karma, your cross-examination, please."

Jana cleared her throat. "Witness," she said, slamming the bench with her riding crop (Butirate jumped almost a foot in the air, and Alois put his head in his hands) "Detective Airey Verkhovensky was shot at around ten minutes to midnight. What were you doing out so late?"

"Objection!" Alois yelled before Butirate could answer, "that has no bearing!"

"Please don't bully the witness," Wright told her.

Okay. Moving on. "In that case, witness, explain why you called the police and not an ambulance." She extended her hand, fingers splayed. "Detective Airey Verkhovensky's wound was not immediately fatal, and if the prosecution's 'dying message' theory is accurate to any extent, then she was still moving around after being shot."

"I, uh, I, um," Butirate said, tugging on the drawstrings to his hood, "I d-didn't see her moving around, I thought-t she was dead."

"So you immediately went to call the police after the shooting occurred?" Jana asked.

"Yessum."

"Do you claim to have seen Ace Gumshoe run by while you were calling the police?" Alois asked him. No, you fool, Jana thought, don't lead him like that!

"Yessuh, that's exactly what h-ha-happened, sir!" Butirate said, grinning. He was missing one of his front teeth.

"Very well," Jana said, "can you tell us what Detective Airey Verkhovensky and Ace Gumshoe were arguing about?"

"N-No, ma'am," Butirate said, "I wa-wasn't eavesdroppin' or anything'. My momma raised better'n that, she did."

Wright nudged her. Ach, right, Jana thought. "Witness," she said, pointing her riding crop at him - he jerked away from it as though it were a deadly weapon - "you stated that you heard two gunshots in your testimony. Is this correct?"

"Y-Yessum it is."

"Objection!" yelled Jana, "the gun was only fired once!"

"Objection!" Alois yelled back, "the witness stated that he heard one gunshot and saw another, so it's possible that-"

"The first one musta come from the g-gun the detective was carryin'!" Butirate said suddenly, "I heard them ar-arguin', so there musta been a struggle!"

The court went silent, and Alois leaned on his desk, grimacing.

"Whassamatta?" Butirate said, pulling his hood's drawstrings again.

"Detective Airey Verkhovensky was indeed carrying a gun," Jana said, smirking, "however, that gun had not been fired!"

"Whaaaaaaaaat?!" yelled Butirate, pulling his hood shut and looking fearfully through the hole with one eye. "N-No, ma'am, I made a m-mistake! I didn't hear no sec-second gunshot, ma'am!"

"You said that you saw the second gunshot," Jana protested, slamming her desk.

"Jana, stop, you're going to make him faint," Wright said.

"What does it matter?" Jana snapped, "I think it's obvious that this is clearly an untrustworthy witness, so-"

Wright rolled his eyes. "There are still some contradictions in his testimony. Just keep trying to find the truth."

Jana turned back to the court, scowling. Who cares about the truth, she thought. I just want to win. Nevertheless, she fixed Butirate with another glare and continued. "There is another thing puzzling me about your testimony," she said, "apart from your rampant foolishness in somehow mishearing one gunshot as two. Tell the court, Genma H. Butirate, how you knew that Detective Airey Verkhovensky was, in fact, a detective-"

"Objection!" yelled Alois, "We have stated numerous times over the course of this trail that the victim was a detective!"

"Objection!" Jana shot back, "Let me finish! Besides, we have also stated that Ace Gumshoe is a detective, or was at least, yet the witness never once referred to the defendant as a detective! Additionally, Genma H. Butirate had not yet been called as a witness during the discussion in which Airey Verkhovensky was repeatedly referred to a detective - therefore, he was still in the Prosecution's Lobby and had no access to what was going on in the trial. He must have known that Airey Verkhovensky was a detective prior to the trial!"

Butirate recoiled, his hood dropping off his head. Alois looked startled - apparently he was realizing his error in not looking into the background of the random eye-witness. Butirate pulled up his hood again.

"Anyway," Jana continued, "the witness also has yet to explain how he knew Detective Airey Verkhovensky was carrying a gun! He was not in the courtroom for that discussion, either!"

"I, um, I saw her pull her g-gun out!" Butirate protested, "She was tryin'a protect herself-f f-from the detective!"

"Objection!" Jana said, "The gun was still on her person when her body was discovered - she had not drawn it at any point during the struggle!"

"N-No, I made a-another mistake," Butirate protested, "I mis-misspoke. I never saw her d-draw her gun - I knew she had it because, eh, she was wearing a holster!"

"Witness," Alois said, "I think you misspoke again. Detective Verkhovensky always kept her gun in her pocket."

Butirate twitched violently, tugging his drawstrings again. "Y-You're right, sir," he said, "w-what I meant to say waaas that s-she pulled her gun out f-first! During the argument! A-And the defendant wrestled it away from her and sh-shot her!"

Alois sighed deeply. Jana smirked. "Objection," she said coolly, "You have already stated that you only heard the argument, not seen it. How are you to know that Detective Airey Verkhovensky was the first to draw a gun… especially considering she never drew her gun in the first place?"

"N-No!" Butirate yelled, "She drew a gun!"

"Your Honor," Alois said, "the witness is clearly confused."

"Do you wish to dismiss the witness?" the Judge asked, holding her gavel up.

"Objection!" Wright yelled suddenly, then looked at Jana, "You need to continue the cross-examination."

Jana sighed. "I would like to continue the cross-examination, your Honor," she said begrudgingly. Shouldn't she be focusing on the decisive evidence now, not the clearly useless witness?

"Very well," said the Judge. Alois frowned.

Jana hesitated, then looked at Wright. "Go on," he said, "there's an important contradiction in his testimony - one that he's not lying about. We've been completely misinterpreting at least one piece of evidence."

"Um…" Jana said, looking through the Court Record.

"Any day now, Jana," Alois said, back to grinning. Shut up, Jana thought.

"I'll give you a hint," Wright said, "Detective Verkhovensky was trying to break a habit of chewing her nails."

Oh. She cleared her throat. "Witness," she said, "do you maintain that Detective Airey Verkhovensky was the one to pull out a gun?"

"Y-Yes," Butirate insisted.

"Objection!" Alois said, "the gun had Detective Gumshoe's fingerprints on it, not Detective Verkhovensky's!"

"Objection!" Jana said, "That does not prove that Detective Airey Verkhovensky was not the one handling the gun at the time - seeing as how she constantly wore gloves! You cannot prove at what time Ace Gumshoe handled the gun!"

"Objection!" Alois said, "Do you mean to say-"

"-that the gun that shot Detective Airey Verkhovensky was, in fact, her own?" Jana said, extending her hand, "Yes. I do."

Alois pressed his arms against himself, sweating. "That doesn't make any sense," he said, "why would…?"

"Why would a police detective, who should be carrying his own gun, shoot her with the one belonging to her?" Jana said, shaking her finger, "You're right. It doesn't make any sense."

Alois stared at her for a minute, and then cracked into a smile and shook his head. "Of course it doesn't," he said, "assuming, of course, that Detective Gumshoe was carrying his own gun the day of the crime."

"…what?"

"I apologize for not bringing the court's attention to this earlier," Alois said, "but Detective Gumshoe had noticed that his gun was missing before a stake-out earlier in the day on the 11th, and consequently had to borrow one from an unnamed officer. At the time of the crime, no one knew where Detective Gumshoe's gun was!"

Now it was Jana's turn to recoil. "O-Objection," she said, "um…"

"We know exactly where the gun was at the time of the crime," Wright said suddenly. We do? He looked at Jana expectantly.

"Well?" said the Judge. "Ms. von Karma, where was it?"

Jana crossed her arms and closed her eyes. "Well," she said, then opened them again, "of course. Ace Gumshoe's gun… was in the pocket of Detective Airey Verkhovensky the whole time." She hit the defense bench with her riding crop. "You have made a grave misassumption, Alois!"

"Objection!" Alois said, "There were no fingerprints on the gun in Detective Verkhovensky's pocket!"

"Which means it could have been either one of theirs!" Jana continued, "Think about it logically. Ace Gumshoe misplaces his gun and borrows Detective Airey Verkhovensky's gun for the stakeout. However, at some point, Detective Airey Verkhovensky finds Ace Gumshoe's gun, cleans it, and asks to meet him at a point midway between the Police Headquarters and her house. At this point, she has two guns in her pockets. When she is beset upon by the real killer, she pulls her own gun - which still has Ace Gumshoe's fingerprints on it."

"Hmm," Alois said, "do you have any proof?"

"The placement of Ace Gumshoe's fingerprints on the gun confirm this," Jana said, extending her hand again. "As you can see, there is only one set of fingerprints, and it is slightly smudged at that. Obviously, those smudges came from Detective Airey Verkhovensky's gloves… and, most likely, the gloves worn by the real killer."

"G-Gloves?" Butirate said nervously.

"Of course," Jana replied, "Ace Gumshoe's fingerprints were the only ones found on the gun, therefore the real killer did not leave any." Alois rolled his eyes.

"Additionally," Wright said, "as you pointed out earlier, a detective will able to keep their wits about them in a stressful situation. So, let's say for argument's sake that Detective Gumshoe is the killer. Why would he just leave the gun at the crime scene like that?"

"As if Ace Gumshoe could keep his cool like that," Jana muttered.

"That's really mean, pal."

"Jana, really, he's your client," Wright said, exasperated.

"Anyway!" Jana said, "That is how things played out."

"There's just one problem," Alois said, "the dying message."

Jana had completely forgotten about that. "Come on," she said, "how often are those not faked or tampered with?"

"Well," Alois said, "you appear to be going with the theory that the 'real killer' fled the crime scene immediately after shooting."

"…yes," Jana said cautiously, "otherwise, if the killer had any brains at all, they would have taken one of the guns with them."

"Then tell me," Alois said, leaning towards her, "at what point the killer had the time to fake the dying message."

"Ach," Jana said, holding her hands up to her ears. This is not good…

"Calm down, Jana," Wright said, looking amused, "considering what we know now about the guns, the meaning of one piece of evidence has changed."

The dying message, obviously. Jana pulled up the photograph and stared at it. Perhaps it was real. What, then, could it mean? Who could it be referring to? Who… or rather, what? "It seems you have made another grave misassumption," Jana said, a smirk sliding across her face.

"Oh?" Alois said, "Yes, go ahead and tell the court how you knew exactly whatever it is you're talking about the entire time."

"Of course," Jana said, "The defense asserts that the dying message does not refer to a person."

"…what?" Alois said.

"Rather, it refers to an actual overcoat - the overcoat of Detective Airey Verkhovensky!" Jana said, extending her hand. The gallery broke into discussion.

"Order! Order in the court!" the Judge said, banging her gavel. "Ms. von Karma! Explain yourself!"

"Naturally, your Honor," Jana said, curtsying, "Detective Airey Verkhovensky knew full well that the gun she drew when accosted by the real killer would bear Ace Gumshoe's fingerprints, and as a detective, she realized the extent of the incompetence of the police force to the point where she knew they would most likely arrest Ace Gumshoe."

"Hey!" Ace protested, "Don't talk about the police force like that!"

"The defendant will remain silent!" the Judge said, "Ms. von Karma, continue."

"So," Jana obliged the court, "she left a dying message directing our attention to her overcoat, or specifically, to its pockets. There was an object in one of them that would be the key to establishing reasonable doubt: Ace Gumshoe's gun!"

"Ach," Alois said, supporting himself on the desk again, "Well played, Jana."

Jana smirked. Victory was hers.

"You're not done yet, you know," Wright said suddenly.

"Huh? But I established reasonable doubt, did I not?"

"That's just where the real trial begins," Wright said, "you still have to find the real killer."

Jana glared at him. Why did they even care? All they should have to do was tear enough holes in the prosecution's case to get a not guilty verdict, and then be done with it. Finding the real killer should be the police's job, right? "This is why I wanted Uncle Kristoph as my co-counsel," she grumbled.

"What, and let the real killer get away?" Wright said, "Jana, this is an easy one. They're in this courtroom…"

The crowd started murmuring. Butirate was eyeing Wright now, his drawstrings starting to fray.

"…because no one ever remembered to dismiss him from the stand," Jana finished begrudgingly. She pointed her riding crop at Butirate. "Genma H. Butirate," she said imperiously, "the defense formally indicts you for the murder of Detective Airey Verkhovensky."

"W-Whaaaaaaaaat?!" yelled Butirate, and his drawstrings snapped, his hood falling off his head.

"On what grounds?" Alois said, putting his hands in his pockets, his face impassive.

"On the grounds of his incredibly suspicious testimony," Jana said, crossing her own arms, "for instance, how did he know Detective Airey Verkhovensky was carrying a gun? Because she drew it on him. And why did he call the police instead of an ambulance? Because he knew she would die shortly - and he wanted it that way."

"…good show," said Alois, shaking his head, "one problem: all of your evidence against Mr. Butirate is purely circumstantial."

"I…" Jana trailed off. That was true.

"That's not true," Wright said, "Mr. Gavin. It's already obvious that you didn't check the background of your witness-" Alois cringed. "-so I take it no one ever searched him."

"He wasn't a suspect until now," Alois protested.

Jana saw where Wright was going with this. "Perhaps a search is in order," she said, eyeing Butirate gleefully, "after all, a dried-up wimp like him would have next to no chance in a fight against a detective. He may have gotten her gun somehow, but at what cost?" She pointed her riding crop at the Judge. "Your Honor! The witness must be searched for injuries sustained during hand-to-hand combat with Detective Airey Verkhovensky!"

"You, uh, y-you can't prove th-that's where they woulda come from!" Butirate protested, clutching his hoodie, "I - I live in a bad, um, part of to-own. I g-get into lots of f-fi-fights!"

"There will be something unique about these injuries, though," Wright said, putting his hands on his hips and grinning, "since Detective Verkhovensky wore gloves to break a habit of chewing her fingernails… it would be impossible for you to have scratch marks."

"N-No," whispered Butirate, his eyes going wide. "NOOOOOOOOOO!" he suddenly screamed, shaking violently and covering his eyes with his hands. "I-I'm s-s-sorry! I made a mi-istaaaaake!" He slumped over the stand.

"…Herr Butirate?" Alois said, slipping back into his out-of-court speech patterns.

"I admit it," Butirate said hollowly, "I knew Detective Verkhovensky from back in Atlanta." He fell to the floor and laid on his back, holding one trembling hand up to the courthouse ceiling. "She got a bunch of my buddies in a drug bust, and the dealers were after my head - I woulda caught the blame if she'd been able to shut down the Los Angeles-Atlanta route. So I followed her here." He sighed deeply. "I thought I got lucky when I cornered her in that alleyway… but I guess I didn't after all."

A few minutes later, Butirate was lead away in handcuffs. The court was silent.

"Well," the Judge said, "I suppose there's no reason not to hand down my verdict."

"Go ahead, your Honor," Alois said, looking somewhat bored.

"Hurry up, your Honor," Jana said. Wright stepped on her foot. "Ow."

"Very well. This court finds the defendant, Mr. Ace Gumshoe, NOT GUILTY." She banged her gavel. The crowd cheered. Confetti fell. Jana grinned at Alois as obnoxiously as possible. "This court is adjourned!"


January 13, 12:34 PM, District Court, Defendant's Lobby #4

"That could have been over so much faster," Jana complained.

"Don't act like Butirate wouldn't have skipped down before the follow-up investigation began," Wright said, shaking his head.

"That would make him not our problem," Jana pointed out.

"Oh look," Wright grumbled, fingering his cowlick, "another gray hair."

Most of your hair is already gray, Jana thought, but before she could point that out, the rest of her family walked in.

"Good job, Jana," her father, Klavier Gavin, said, picking her up in a massive hug.

"Thank you, Papa," Jana said, grinning. She felt a weird sense of relief at Klavier's congratulations, despite the fact that neither of her parents had ever shown explicit disapproval of her career choice, and had in fact forced Wright Anything Agency to oversee her training and, now, hire her.

"Indeed," her mother, Franziska von Karma, said, her arms crossed, "a flawless victory, despite your brother's strong case."

Speaking of her brother, Alois looked pretty relaxed for a prosecutor with a losing record. "It's not like I thought Ace was guilty anyway," he said suddenly, "he's simply not the type to shoot someone."

"He probably does not have the mental acuity for committing a murder," Jana said, shaking her finger at Alois.

"…thanks, pal," Ace said. Whoops. She had completely forgotten he was still there.

"Scruffy Junior Detective," Franziska said to Ace, "your parents are waiting for you in the hallway. They wish to congratulate you. Go to them."

"Yes, sir!" Ace said, perking up, and ran out of the room. Completely coincidentally, the doorknob rolled off of the door as soon as he shut it.

"So…" Wright said, "transferred again?"

"Most likely," said Klavier, then added, "I think this probably sets some sort of record."

"No," Franziska said, "Scruffy Junior Detective managed to keep his job at the vehicle impound for almost two months last summer, remember?"

"Yeah, before that car blew up," Wright said.

"Nein," Klavier said, shaking his head and laughing, "I didn't mean time-wise. I meant, this is probably the worst incident his luck has ever landed him in. No one's ever died before. By the way, Jana, please stop harassing your brother."

Jana stepped away from Alois, where she had been pulling on his ponytail only a moment before. She was unsure how Klavier even knew she was doing that, considering none of the adults were looking at them and Alois was doing his best to ignore her and therefore not saying anything. He finally glanced at Jana. "Loser," she mouthed at him.

Wright checked his watch. "Well," he said, "it's 12:45 already. Jana, do you want to head off with your parents or come back to Wright Anything Agency with me?"

Jana glanced at her family. "Go ahead," Franziska said, "stay with Phoenix Wright. Piano Gavin, Alois, and I will be heading back to the prosecutorial offices."

"Okay," Jana said, "I will see you at home, later."

"Call me if no one can drop you off," Klavier said as the three left, "I'll bring my hog."

Jana waited until the broken door shut (well, sort of) and then turned to Wright, frowning.

"What?" he said defensively.

"Nothing," she replied, "just that Papa's motorcycle makes your cab rides extra lame by comparison."

"There's nothing wrong with cabs," Wright protested.

Jana rolled your eyes. "Just get your driver's license already."


January 13, 3:00 PM, Wright Anything Agency

Wright Anything Agency wasn't your typical law office. That much was obvious. For one thing, the two most experienced lawyers there, Diego Armando and Jana's precious uncle Kristoph Gavin, were both convicted murderers who had been pardoned under questionable circumstances 25 years ago. Athena Cykes and Apollo Justice both still worked there, and Justice's daughter, Watson Justice, studied there, although she kept herself relatively distant from her father. Additionally, the ghost of Dahlia Hawthorne had more or less haunted this very office for two and half decades now, which meant that occasionally things would randomly light on fire, and then they'd have to call up someone from Kurain Village to channel her so that they could at least know where she was. Also, she was apparently dating Kristoph, however that worked, and they occasionally claimed to be married (in the same "emotional, not legal" way that Armando was married to Mia Fey), but the only one who believed them was Pearl Fey and her husband. Adding to the chaos was the fact that the head of the law firm, Phoenix Wright, lived here, along with his husband of five years Miles Edgeworth, and his children from a previous marriage: Misty, Maya Valerie, and Diego. His oldest son, also named Miles, had lived in an old apartment complex near Gourd Lake for about four years now, after suing for emancipation shortly after his 14th birthday.

There was also a parrot named Polly. And a huge plant named Charley, although it didn't do much except sit there. It made for an interesting contrast against all the various magic props that were still there, despite the fact that Trucy had gotten married and moved to Texas over a decade ago. Her kid sometimes came to visit, but Jana had never met Trucy's husband, and in fact did not even know what Trucy's last name actually was. Maya Valerie said it was something that started with an "M", but she wasn't sure either.

However, with Wright Anything Agency being fairly famous and having a decent amount of lawyers to go around, on an average day it was really only hectic because of the aforementioned children, parrot, and magic props. Wright always tried to have at least one adult (NOT counting Dahlia) there, but that didn't always work out, especially considering that no one really seemed to count Watson as an adult; Jana wasn't sure if it was because the lab-coat-wearing blue-eyed brunette-with-a-bracelet looked a lot younger than she actually was (just like her father) or because she hadn't passed the bar exam yet.

Today was one of those days. As it turned out, everyone (except for Edgeworth, he was still chief prosecutor and as such was working) was out on some case or another, including Wright, who had apparently skipped part of an investigation so that he could "keep an eye on" Jana during the trial. "This is why we always try to have an investigative partner," he had explained before he left - apparently this time around, his partner was Misty, whom Jana didn't really consider bright enough to handle an investigation on her own like that even if it was only two or three hours, but whatever. There were worse things that Wright could do than leave a 15-year-old in the company of detectives.

The result? Watson, who only had six years' advantage over Jana, was spinning idly in the chair at Armando's desk, while Diego watched some old children's TV show and Maya Valeria and Jana chatted. Dahlia was nowhere to be seen.

Maya Valerie was Jana's best friend and probably the only person that Jana would accept as a co-counsel, although Wright had already explicitly banned it. Probably because she acted exactly like Dahlia's sugary side - Jana had never seen her angry, although was probably because usually it was Jana getting angry on her behalf. Actually, even though she was only 12, she looked exactly like Dahlia, too, although that was mostly because she greatly resembled her mother, Iris Wright, who had gone missing (and presumed to have been killed) shortly after Maya Valerie and her twin, Diego, were born. She dyed her hair red. No one really knew where she got the dye, except for Jana, because Maya Valerie had once confided that Kristoph bought it for her just to piss off her father.

"I'm boooooored," Watson groaned suddenly.

"What do you expect us to do, Wat?" Maya Valerie asked.

"I don't know," Watson said, "Diego. Please turn that off before I rip the TV out of the wall."

"But I like the Cadmium Samurai!" Diego protested.

"Come on, Diego," Maya Valerie said, tilting her head and smiling at him as a butterfly fluttered by, "won't you please turn it off?" Behind her, Jana smacked her riding crop against her palm and glared at the spiky-haired boy.

"…fine," Diego said, switching the TV off and eyeing his sister and cousin-by-marriage-and-adoption. Works every time, Jana thought.

"I wish someone would come in with a case," Watson grumbled, "honestly, I wouldn't even mind assisting Jana." She rolled her eyes - it was no secret that she resented the fact that Jana had gotten her attorney's badge so young and now outranked her.

Maya Valerie and Diego looked towards the door, almost expectantly, but no one came in with a case. "That usually works," Maya Valerie sighed.

"Hey," a voice behind Jana said suddenly, and Jana was suddenly overtaken with a cold that reached her bones.

"Hi, Aunt Dahlia," both Maya Valerie and Diego said cheerfully. Jana didn't turn around. She wasn't terribly fond of ghosts - Dahlia was all white skin and floating hair, and quite frankly it creeped Jana out.

"Where were you?" Watson asked, eyed Dahlia suspiciously.

"Does it matter?" Dahlia said, floating into Jana's field of view. She passed through some sort of bizarre cabinet-box-thing and sighed. "If no one gets rid of these stupid magic props soon, I'm going to light them on fire."

"Aren't they flame-retardant?" Diego said, tilting his head, "I thought you already tried that."

"Shut up," Dahlia said, flipping her hair. Somehow.

"…sometimes I really wonder why Trucy bothered making them like that, anyway," Maya Valerie said, looking down and putting her fist to her chin.

"And sometimes I wish Mr. Wright would just get rid of them," Watson sighed melodramatically, "can't he just ship them to Texas?"

Jana looked the trick cabinet prop up and down. "I think it would take a lot of money to ship that."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got the ice-cream man to give me a free popsicle?" Maya Valerie said, her smile sweet but with a hint of mischief.

"Are you proposing you do the same with the shipping man?" Jana said.

"I don't see why not."

"Eh," Dahlia said, "it'd be easier to get some chump to pay the shipping fees for you."

"That is true," Maya Valerie said as another butterfly joined the one already circling her head.

"See," Diego said, "this is why Dad doesn't want you hanging out with Aunt Dahlia."

"Which one?" both Watson and Jana said immediately - it was pretty much a habit to ask that for anyone who routinely talked with Wright's kids.

"Phoenix, obviously," Dahlia said, flipping her hair again. "Edgeworth could care less."

"Maybe that's why he never falls for Valerie's 'charms'," Diego muttered. Jana hit him with her riding crop. "Hey!"

"Why would I want to trick either of my daddies?" Maya Valerie said, big, fake tears in her eyes.

"Give me a break," Watson said, "I saw you trying to 'convince' Mr. Edgeworth to let you keep wearing that stupid tank-top earlier." Jana glanced at Maya Valerie, who was in fact wearing her typical loose-fitting tank top which Edgeworth never approved of.

"…yeah," Maya Valerie said, grimacing slightly. "That never works."

"Hoodie trick?" Jana asked.

"Hoodie trick," Maya Valerie confirmed.

"I kind of miss wearing actual clothes," Dahlia commented, "the only clothes I ever get to wear nowadays are those stupid Kurain channeling uniforms."

"…that's nice," said Watson, "so, do you have anything to alleviate our boredom other than irritating u- AAAAGH!" Dahlia had suddenly blinked out of existence and at the same time, the file that Watson had been idly skimming burst into flames. "No! This was important!" Watson screamed, gathering up the burning papers and sprinting for the kitchen. "Agh! Ow! Hot hot hot!"

"When will she learn not to wish for excitement in this household," Maya Valerie sighed as the sound of running water came from the kitchen and Dahlia rematerialized. Jana shrugged. Never a dull moment at Wright Anything Agency… except when there was.


A large majority of this fic is centered around the cases themselves, as opposed to the various shenanigans the characters get up to. It's intended to be far less cracky than LAL was, and in fact is intended to be quite serious.

Anyway, a heads-up: the next chapter (which is currently completed, mind you) won't be uploaded for another week. In the meantime, feel free to review and express some choice opinions on my characters!