An explanation about the title: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt (Occasionally changed to Smith) is a Canadian folk song. It has like, four lines, and goes on an endless loop.
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his is my name too/ whenever we go out/ the people always shout/ there goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!
It stems from the fact that there are a ridiculous amount of convenient coincidences which exist in the story. What are the odds of meeting a lawyer the same age as you in a park with his three adopted children, who has a friend named Larry Butz, something which you also happen to all have/be? Just a little lower than sharing the name John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt I'd say.
Also I've had the song stuck in my head for a week.
An explanation about the AU: There are a couple of different things going on here.
First of all is kids. I messed around with their ages, made a whole age chart and everything to go with it. It was terrible and I never want to do that much math again. The only fact of importance which stems from it is that Mia began defending in 2013, even if she took a year off. We can therefore infer that Charley is a minimum of 3 years old in 2016.
Second is that this acknowledges the Fey!Miles theory. I decided to use some of lesbianedgeworth's (http:)(/)(lesbianedgeworth).(tumblr).com fun headcanons on the matter.
Should Greg have slept with Morgan Fey? Probably not.
Is Manfred Von Karma still here to fuck shit up? Nope. Miles gets the Iris/Dahlia treatment after DL-6, literally. He even still gets a sister because of it.
What does this mean for Franziska you monster? I'm still working out the logistics myself.
Third and finally, this is just a rabid plot bunny running off to who knows where. I don't know if I'll write a longer fic, or just have a couple of one-shots when I think of interesting ideas. There are plans to give a plant a sad backstory. There are plans to include more kids in this. Three is just the beginning, just the base stat of potential characters to include! We'll just have to wait and see what happens.
Without further rambling on my part, read, review, and enjoy!
After a particularly cold winter, spring showers had washed down the roads and cleared away the cold. Rain coaxed the grass intro sprouting once more, and new leaves unfurled from the trees. The earliest flowers had pushed their way through the still-freezing soil, not seeming to mind the low temperatures at night. They bloomed in different pastel shades which were associated with the season. Delicate purples and soft yellows enjoying their time in the garden beds before other plants took over. From around a bend in the path, a man appeared. Children tailed after him like tiny, lost ducklings. As they approached, he noted there was a third clinging to his leg, yet he walked completely unhindered. He was looking for something- a bench.
Having also searched for a place which was dry, he knew there was only one. The stranger at least seemed to respect his desire for quiet, even giving ample space between their legs. Or perhaps, he was too enamored with his own kids to say anything. The smallest was gently detached from his leg, and latched on to the hand of a girl. They ran off to the lake's shore, stomping in puddles with their shiny rain boots as they went. The oldest, a boy, was holding a book. With a strange flick of his wrist, the man stole it from his hands. Miles actually recognized the gesture, his father had used it on him enough to be familiar with it. Even the conversation stoked memories of the past.
"Go be social please."
"Rr-! Give it-! With who?"
"Your siblings, and-" he turned, to look at their surroundings. Three other children were scattered around the lake. "-there are kids your age."
"Fine."
It was difficult to storm off angrily when one's rain boots made squeaking sounds every step of the way.
He sighed, fondly muttering something. The words were stifled by the long scarf twined around his neck. They both wore sweaters with their unbuttoned coats. The stranger's a tad more disheveled, his own oddly formal for a day at Gourd Lake. The wrinkles in his clothes went with the messy hair. Unless those spikes were a natural phenomenon?
The silence was finally disturbed when the man pointed his chin towards the group and asked, "babysitting?"
Miles just hoped he wasn't the talkative type.
Kay had a long piece of driftwood, and was poking something with it. Sebastian and two of his brood were staring at it as well. He squinted, trying to make out what the thing was, and ignoring the nagging voice telling him he needed to wear his glasses. Because he didn't. His eyesight was perfectly fine without them.
"No they're- Kay, put that worm down!- they're mine."
"Really? Me too!"
Great, he was definitely the talkative kind. Maybe if he pretended to be on his phone, he wouldn't have to have this conversation? But no, he needed to keep his eyes on his children. Otherwise Kay was going to continue chasing the others with a worm on a stick and Sebastian would start crying...
"Er, adopted that is. Well, it's more like they adopted me. Trucy decided I was her new Dad, and she and Apollo are a package deal."
Feeling for some reason compelled, he continued, "I experienced something similar."
Instead of speaking, the man loosened his scarf. He was paying attention to something- or rather, someone else.
"Hold it! Apollo, where did you get that book from?!"
Apollo had joined Ema under a tree. They were both reading the book Miles could have sworn he'd confiscated from her before they left the house.
"It's not mine Phoenix, so you can't take it!"
Again he sighed, this time sounding more frustrated than amused.
"Fine."
"She's not supposed to have that either. I can take it if you'd-"
"No," he grinned politely, but shook his head. "They'll just find another way around it the second we look somewhere else. I know for a fact there are more books available at the boathouse, and the guy running the hot dog cart will give away free magazines with a purchase."
"There's also the newspaper stand not far off."
"I mean, I guess that counts as socialization. Asking if he can flip the page."
"Better than nothing."
Miles hesitated, uncertain if his name really was Phoenix.
"Up until a month ago it was My Learned Friend," he supplied.
The teasing smile was contagious, he was unable to stop himself from smirking too.
"Was it really?"
He quickly found himself warming up to the man. Something about the way he spoke almost forced him to reply. It was as if he had no choice but to respond.
"You don't want to know how long it got me to make him stop saying Mister Wright."
"A marked improvement," he said, offering a hand. "Miles Edgeworth."
"Phoenix Wright," he shook his hand. "Like the flying brothers."
There was a loud squawk, their focus immediately snapped back to their children. Sebastian's arms were windmilling. The group was climbing along the rough boulders which jutted out from the shore. Sebastian was moments away from falling into the water. Phoenix's daughter caught him by the hands, Kay grabbed his shoulders. Then, they all seemed to sway, their reflexes not realizing that maybe balancing and fast movement did not mix well. After a tense ten seconds of being frozen, they seemed to have saved themselves from a watery fate.
"Maybe you should come away from the rocks!" Phoenix dryly suggested.
With resigned nods, they did as they were told.
"It's strange. I used to do the exact same thing, in that exact spot when I was their age. But when I look at it now, I want to freak out."
"Did you ever get hurt?"
"I got my leg stuck between the rocks once, but it was just dislocated, not broken. And there was this other time, where I fell into the lake and got tangled in stray fishing lines. But nothing permanent!"
He winced at the idea of a tiny leg being pinned beneath those heavy boulders, or of small, metal hooks sticking into his skin.
"At least one of those things should have caused serious injury."
"Well, I've got a scar from when I fell out of the willow tree which overhangs the lake there if you want to see-"
His expression must have been horrified, because Phoenix quickly apologized.
"Sorry. I doubt they'll get into any of the same problems that I did as a ten year-old-"
"No, it's fine. I just, can't imagine getting into any of those situations."
"Ah, you were more of an Apollo then?"
More out of instinct than anything, he checked on Ema. He should have been paying attention to what his children were doing, not the distraction who was next to him! Ema seemed happy, however. She didn't have fish hooks or stray tree branches caught in her hair. She was leading Apollo around now. Book- of different voir dire held to decide if forensic botany would be accepted into evidence- balanced in one arm. She was inspecting around the base of a tree, pausing occasionally to poke the bark, or open one of the tree's buds. With these abrupt stops, Apollo nearly crashed into her back.
"Yes. Although I did have a friend who got into similar-sounding trouble."
He hadn't thought about Larry Butz for ages. Not that he really wanted to remember the nuisance who always seemed to pull him into his misfortune every summer holiday. But now, he wondered where Larry was in life, what he could possibly be doing.
"Believe it or not, I was actually the sensible one," Phoenix replied. "Still am, actually. I have this childhood friend, Larry, who shows up and causes a mess for me to get out of."
Was Larry a cursed name? Perhaps was one doomed to be a bother if their parents picked it? Like naming a child Angel or Nevaeh and always having them turn out beastly. That likely explained why he had the same name. The boy who had always visited Hazakura during the holiday could not be the same Larry he was thinking about.
"You grew up around here?"
"Yup. I was gone a little while for school, but eventually settled back. You?"
"I lived here a short while."
A little girl came over to the bench, dragging Sebastian by his too-big coat sleeves.
"We need the shovels," she announced, hugging Phoenix around the leg.
"Are you digging to China again?" Phoenix asked.
He bent over, to reach into the large bag he carried on his shoulder. Sure enough, he fished out two spades, a hand rake, and a sifter. There were also little plastic molds for the sand, resembling fish and shells. These all went into the large, castle-shaped bucket which he pulled out last.
"We're building a wishing well!"
"Oh! Be nice to any worms you find while you're digging!"
She smiled brightly, and hugged him once more. Sebastian did not do very well with strangers- particularly men- and cautiously looked between the two of them. After a moment's deliberation, he flung his arms around him, in a quick, but fierce hug. It was surprising, but he nevertheless patted him on the back. Then they picked up the bucket and ran off, just in time for Apollo to wander over. Without breaking eye contact, he went into the bag, and reached for a package of Snackoos. He stared at Phoenix, daring him to say something.
"Take an apple for you and your friend too."
Wordlessly, Apollo did as he was told.
"He's adjusting," Phoenix said, quiet enough so that Apollo could not hear them.
"It's only going to get worse in puberty."
"He's just antsy about trusting me. And at least I won't have two girls going through it at the same time."
There was a certain characteristic to his speech, which pushed him into thinking of a quick response. It was unavoidable, it had drawn him in even when he had wanted to be left in quiet. How could he not retort when something about the ridiculous expression on his face demanded reply? So, he was naturally put out when Phoenix gestured for him to be quiet.
As two kids had already checked up on their father, it was unsurprising that the third would too. Dark, spiky hair poked out from behind a tree, and tiny fingers clung to its bark.
"Hey Charley," he waved the boy over. "What have you got there?"
The small figure emerged, nervously looking between the two of them. Phoenix indicated that it was alright for him to come over. And he did, climbing up the bench and into his father's arms. Phoenix was forced to slide closer to the middle, to make room for the boy. Charley uncurled his chubby fist, and shoved something in Phoenix's face. New, green leaves from a tree.
"Yes, I see," Phoenix said, wincing as they were repeatedly pressed against his cheek. "They're very nice."
Charley continued to use him as a climbing platform. Phoenix grimaced further with each unfortunate kick or poke he received, but did not protest. Charley eventually settled against his father's side, grasping his shoulders for balance.
He subtly pointed in his direction. Then turned over his palm, and brushed his other hand across it. It took him a confused moment to understand what he had just done. Sign language. For a time after his father's death, he could not speak. Sister Bikini, worried he wouldn't say another word, had begun to teach him, as well as Iris...
"Is the man nice?"
"Very nice," he responded. "Do you want me to hold your leaves?"
The rumpled leaves were handed over to Phoenix. He made a big show of tucking them into his hoodie pocket, where they would be safe. Now, Charley fiddled with his odd hair. The spikes must have been soft, despite their looks. Otherwise, he wouldn't continue to grab fistfuls. It made for a striking appearance. Charley stopped when Phoenix batted away his hands, but he continued to fidget.
"Stranger."
"I'm not leaving."
From behind Phoenix, Charley still regarded him with obvious suspicion. Hoping to make him feel more at ease, he signed, "I like your leaves."
Charley's eyes went wide. Phoenix didn't see what he had done, so he had no idea why the boy was now tugging on his hair again.
"Ah- ouch! Stop-!"
There was no choice but to let him go. Charley ran off, back to where his sister was playing. They had abandoned their digging, and were climbing over the rocks yet again. Phoenix sighed, he seemed to do a lot of that. But the strain which lined his face went away as he turned back to grin at him.
"That's my fault."
Now it was Phoenix's turn for his eyes to grow comically large. He already bore a resemblance to Charley, what with the dark, pointy hair. The surprised expression just highlighted this further. He would have no trouble believing they were related, if he had not said otherwise.
"O-oh!"
Phoenix reddened, obviously realizing he had understood the conversation.
"Is he deaf?"
"Mute, after his mother was..."
"Oh."
Oh was a bit of an understatement.
"It seems like everyone around here knows Japanese or English or German, but never ASL!"
It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood, Phoenix had injected as much false cheer into his voice as he possibly could. Luckily, a new distraction came their way.
SPLASH!
"ARAAAGH!"
"Oh dear."
"I guess it was only a matter of time."
At some point, his ankle had neatly hooked itself around the man's leg. Neither of them had noticed until they tried to stand. Apologizing profusely (for more than one reason) he stumbled towards the lake. Gritty sand crunched underfoot, and water seeped into his shoes as they went. Kay hauled herself out of the water, soaked and scratched in a few places, but otherwise unharmed. The other children shrieked when she began to shake out the water from her hair.
"I've got disinfectant and some bandages," Phoenix supplied, going through his bag.
He had already draped a towel around his daughter's shoulders. Kay was patting her hair dry. They both started to plaster bandages over her scraped elbows. The others seemed content to watch this from a distance. They warily kept their arms up, just waiting for her to try spreading the water again.
"Foolish," he lectured, accepting the socks she had peeled off her feet. "You should have known better than to risk it a second time-"
"I'm fine," came a voice from beneath the towel. "I don't need to go out dressed in bubble wrap!"
"She is pretty unharmed," Phoenix chimed in.
Miles stopped long enough to glare at him.
"Considering she doesn't have any fish hooks stuck in her, I would say that's an accurate assessment."
"Yeah, she could've been eaten by Gourdy!" Sebastian chimed in.
"Go tell your sister that we're leaving."
"Aw-"
"What?"
"It's barely spring and you're soaked to the bone," was his simple explanation. "Perhaps if you had listened-"
"Alright, alright."
Phoenix glanced at his own kids, and then at the sky.
"We should probably get going too, right Charley?"
The boy in question yawned. They had been at the park for over an hour now, it was no surprise he would be tired after running around for so long.
"One of you fetch Apollo, the other cleans up the toys."
As they gave out commands, there were collective sighs of resignation, and nods.
"You don't mind if I take the towel with us do you? I could return it if-"
"Don't worry about it! Here, I think I've got some paper if you want to-" Phoenix left the sentence unfinished.
He too, hesitated before regaining his composure.
"Our children all seem to get along very well," he said, suddenly feeling as if there was a frog in his throat.
"Except for when they were getting in trouble. But, I'm sure they'd like to see each other again."
"We should-"
"-arrange something."
"Yes," their fingers brushed as they exchanged slips of paper. "We should."
Fin