"Uhhnf." A tall, broad-shouldered man let out a sigh as he exited the police precinct, the glass door clicking shut behind him as he left. It had been a long day for the weary detective, and he could think of nothing he would like more than a warm bath in his cozy – if snug – apartment. A luxury he was especially looking forward to because he'd had a call last week from a smug-sounding woman that, if he didn't pay the water bill by Tuesday (and today was Sunday), the water would be shut off. On his salary, it was a guarantee that he'd never be able to pay, and so he was going to get what use he could out of the water he had left.
Unfortunately for the troubled man, however, it would be a while yet before he could take that bath. Given that his apartment was a good four miles from the precinct and he hadn't a car or even a bicycle to make the trip faster or easier, he was sure he'd be on the verge of fainting when he finally arrived at the ramshackle place he called home.
Dick Gumshoe allowed his mind to wander as he strode, his eyes drifting towards the dusty sidewalk. Today had been the eve of a court session for Mr. Edgeworth, which meant a lot of scurrying about, evidence collecting, and carefully timed compliments from the detective to prevent the young prosecutor from blowing his top. He'd only been yelled at once that day, something for which he was immensely relieved; the less he was chastised, the less his next paycheck would hurt (and he was convinced that if they continued to put it through so much misery, it would eventually croak altogether). To buoy his happiness at that fact further, the criticism had not been from Mr. Edgeworth, the chief, or anyone of particular importance – he'd been screamed at by another detective when he had said, not realizing that the man he was talking to had made it, that the coffee that day tasted as though something had died in it.
Yes, all in all a rather good day indeed, save his current fatigue.
He was kicking idly at pebbles in the street when a glint caught his eye. Turning his gaze, he saw a shimmery red sphere, slightly larger than a marble, rolling slowly towards him. Curiously, he stooped to pick it up.
"Oh! Young man!" He turned to face the voice, still hunched over the sphere, and saw an elderly woman, wreathed in a tattered old shawl, slowly making her way towards him. "That's mine, dear," she called to him. He smiled and picked it up, closing the distance between them and holding out the curious little stone with a smile. "Thank you," she said warmly as she took it from him. She stuffed the orb into a small leather bag.
"You're welcome," he answered, and turned to continue on his way.
"Oh, could I ask a favor of you?" the woman said quickly. He turned back to her, listening expectantly. "You see, I dropped all of these... well, never mind what they are. All of them in this area, so you won't have to go searching. But I have a touch of arthritis, so I'd prefer not to bend over to get them. There's only three others... could you pick them up for me?"
Gumshoe hesitated very briefly. Tired as he was, she was an old woman, and he'd been taught manners. Besides which, it would take hardly any time at all. With a broad smile, he sought out the other spheres and retrieved them, handing them back to the woman after only moments.
"Thank you dear," she said as she put them away and pocketed the pouch, her eyes twinkling.
"You're welcome," he said again, and once more turned away.
"Oh, one more thing..." Gumshoe bit back a groan, hoping she didn't need another favor, and turned. "As a way of expressing my gratitude, I'd like to offer you something." Gumshoe perked up, hoping that it might be money she intended to thank him with. He was slightly disappointed when, instead, she pulled a tiny vial from under her shawl, swirling with a vivid blue liquid.
What is this?" he asked, perplexed, as he took the bottle.
Her eyes twinkled mysteriously. "It is a very special drink, and you should count yourself lucky to obtain it. It usually fetches a very high price, and you can onle even find it for sale if you know whee to look." Gumshoe frowned, frustrated that the answer wasn't really an answer at all. The woman must have sensed this, for she laughed and continued, "Drink this, and your dreams shall come true. Be warned, however, that it will last only for one moon. After that, the magic will be undone." Before the startled detective had any chance to answer, she set off in the opposite direction, at a speed that was far faster than the hobble she'd displayed moments ago. Gumshoe was tempted to call after her but decided against it, instead continuing home as he turned over the vial in his hand.
It was impossible, that much was obvious. But how many other things had he encountered that ought to have been impossible? He'd seen more people come back from the dead than he could shake a stick at, for starters. If Gumshoe compared the woman's claim to some of the things he'd witnessed first-hand, it seemed plausible that what she said was true.
Which led to a new question – how to use it? Something that made dreams come true – now that sounded like something a lot of people would be happy to have. Suddenly, one person in particular came to mind. Gumshoe recalled hearing one of the prosecutors mention earlier that day that Mr. Edgeworth's birthday was tomorrow. What better gift could he possibly give? He grinned, confident that no one else would be able to match such a gift, as it would be whatever the prosecutor wanted. Overjoyed at the thought, his pace lightened into almost a skip.
Mr. Edgeworth was going to have the best birthday ever.