This is for my real-life OTP... you know who you are. =3=
Warnings: mild language, Portsman being Portsman, Incredibly Lame Puns on a certain detective's name.
Hope you like.~
"I think you're getting slower, Jim," Jacques told his detective buddy, what's-his-name... Jacques never could be bothered to remember. Besides, "Jacques and Jim" just sounded better, you know?
The two of them were hanging out in the hallway of the Prosecutors' Office and shooting some hoops. Well, Jacques was shooting some hoops, anyway... mostly he kept Jim around to pass him the ball and compliment him on what he liked to call his "Epic Slam Dunk of Prosecutorial Awesomeness." He'd just pulled off a beautiful one, in fact, and was watching Jim with an air of smug satisfaction as the detective jogged after the ball for the umpteenth time.
"Maybe because you never let me shoot?" said his buddy, looking a bit sullen as he scooped up the ball. "I tend to do a lot of standing around when I'm playing with you."
"Well, I do need the exercise more," the pink-clad prosecutor replied matter-of-factly.
Jacques Portsman liked to think of himself as a practical sort of guy. You had to keep your body in shape if you expected your mind to follow suit. And a sharp mind was valuable to him, both as a prosecutor and when it came to his dealings of decidedly more questionable legality. So every day after work, instead of going straight home from the Prosecutors' Office, he would stay in long enough to get a good workout.
Jim gave a brief sigh, adjusting his hat with his free hand. "Whatever you say, Jacques," he said, tossing his friend the ball.
"Heh, I thought you'd see it my way, Jim." Jacques smirked, and in a sudden flash of inspiration spun around and chucked the ball back over his shoulder.
The shot went ridiculously wide. Jim stumbled out of the way with a yelp as it hurtled toward him, completely missing the hoop and hitting Prosecutor Edgeworth's door with a resounding BAM!
Jacques blinked. "Oops."
As luck would have it, he and his buddy weren't the only ones here after hours today. Moments later Edgeworth stuck his head out the door, glaring daggers at them. "And just what, may I ask, was that all about?"
"Oh, sorry, man. Me and Jim were just playing a little basketball. My bad." Jacques flashed the other prosecutor his signature winning-smile-thumbs-up-combo.
Edgeworth did not look amused. "Well, be more careful next time. Some of us actually have work to do, or weren't you aware?" Without waiting for a reply, he shut the door with just a bit more force than necessary.
"He didn't seem too happy," said Jim, sounding less than chipper himself as he retrieved the ball yet again.
Jacques frowned a bit, wiping the sweat from his forehead with one arm. What did the other prosecutor have to be so snooty about? Jacques had apologized with all the charm he could lay on—and that was quite a bit, if he did say so himself, he thought primly. Did Edgeworth want him to bend over, too?
Inspiration seized him again as he caught Jim's pass, and he grinned. "Hey Jim, check this out."
His buddy's eyes widened. "Uh oh. I know that look. You're not going to—"
Closing one eye and poking the tip of his tongue out the corner of his mouth, Jacques took aim… and hurled the ball directly at his grouchy neighbor's door. He saw Jim flinch as it connected with another satisfying BAM!
"Sorry!" Jacques hollered. Nothing happened, so he guessed Edgeworth must've heard him, or at least assumed it had been another accident.
He snickered. This could be fun.
"Please don't do that," said Jim, gripping anxiously at his hat as he went after the ball. "Mr. Edgeworth'll find some way to get back at us."
"Oh, Jim… ever the worrywart, I see," Jacques chuckled.
"I'm serious! He yelled at me once a few months back—you know, I can't even remember what I did wrong—and then he said something about looking forward to my next salary assessment, and suddenly all I could afford for the next month was instant noodles. I didn't even know he could do that, Jacques, but he did. He can probably do it again." His buddy was looking gloomier than ever.
Jacques narrowed his eyes. What right did Edgeworth have to treat his Jim that way?
An idea took form in his brilliant brain. Maybe there was a way to cheer up Jim and piss off the grouch at the same time.
"Er… you're doing that smile again, Jacques…"
He hustled over to his buddy and gave him a pat on the back. "Hey, Jim. You're mad at Edgeworth for that whole salary fiasco, right?"
Jim blinked, holding the ball to his chest. "Well, 'mad' is kind of a strong word…"
"Get revenge, then." Jacques tapped the ball with a finger. "I'll take the heat from ol' Cranky von Grumpworth."
His buddy looked at him in alarm. "You don't mean…"
"Oh, I mean." The prosecutor grinned broadly. "Anything for my Jimbo."
"Jimbo?" the detective muttered, but he stared at the ball, seemingly considering.
Jacques swiped his hat, putting it on his own head. "C'mon, Jim, have some faith in your buddy. Have some buddy faith, Jim." He ruffled the detective's soft hair.
"Well…" Jim gave a small smile. "Okay."
Jacques did a thumbs-up. "Give it all you got."
The detective walked over to stand in line with Edgeworth's door. He raised the ball slowly, looking so reluctant that even Jacques was shocked at the force with which he suddenly lobbed it.
CRACK!
The door's number plate went flying. The ball had hit it at juuust the right angle.
Jim stared at the damage, looking for all the world like a deer in the headlights. "J… Jacques…!" he squeaked, taking a step backward.
"Aw, don't worry. He won't be all that angry over something like—" His mind changed pretty quickly when Edgeworth burst out looking rather homicidal and stomped toward them. "Just kidding. Run for it, Jim!" Chomping down on his medal, Jacques grabbed his buddy by the sleeve and sprinted with him toward the stairs.
They ended up hiding in the first floor lounge, sandwiched together between a couple of coffee machines. Jacques felt Jim shudder against his chest when they heard a fuming Edgeworth stalking past their room. Luckily, the grouchy prosecutor didn't think to look closer. The two of them waited in that uncomfortable position for maybe fifteen minutes before Jacques decided it was safe to come out.
"I'm so sorry, Jacques," the detective mumbled as they stretched the cramps from their arms. "He's probably gonna cut both our salaries now."
"You're sorry?" Laughing, Jacques restored his buddy's hat to its proper head. "You're kidding, right? That was awesome!"
Jim looked taken aback. "R-really?"
"Of course! How'd you do that anyway? You gotta teach me, Jim! Oh, we are so doing that again sometime."
As Jacques wrapped an arm around his buddy, a smile soared across Jim's face.
"Whatever you say, Jacques."