A/N: Haha, I said I wouldn't write anything else than Pokémon but what do you know... this is pretty old and embarrassing fic and I can't decide whether I like or not... Anyway, written after playing Ace Attorney investigation: Miles Edgewoth (an okay game, wasn't the best AA game thought.) and I kinda fell for the Jacques/Buddy -pairing. And couldn't really find other fics written about this scene (or maybe I just wasn't looking hard enough). Sorry for typos and grammar mistakes, didn't have beta for this and.. yeah, so sorry for that. :D

DARK FANTASY

Sometimes you just can't help it. You've been trained as a detective and you know how to act in the burglary situation and you definitely know how not to act in it. You have experience; you're not a some rookie staring the thief eye to eye for the first time. You feel your heart beating in your chest until you finally start to make some familiar shapes out of the thief's face in the weak moonlight. The hand that was reaching out the gun at your waist has frozen still – not because you are excited or scared or anything like that, but because you make a simple mistake and relax and let your mind relax too. The face that shine's in the dirty moonlight is familiar, so you don't need to worry anymore. This is how you think, and you can't even guess they might as well be your last thoughts.

But sometimes you just can't help it.

"Jacques?" You ask with a shaky voice. The man in front of you is familiar, he's your partner and you fight against the criminals with him; prosecutor Jacques Portsman.

"Jim", the man states in a quiet voice that is so far away from the usual arrogant and over-confident one that you've so used to over the years. Maybe this should have rang some warning bells in you head, but it doesn't, not tonight. Instead of that, your brains tell you that this man is your partner, that you can trust on him. So the hand that was reaching out the gun, finally finds it's way to your trouser's pocket and the hem of the jacket covers the gun. It wasn't even yours, it was a piece of evidence you were bringing to Jacques. You are more than happy that you didn't need to use the gun to this person you first suspected as a thief.

"What are you doing in mr. Edgeworth's office?" You ask, because you finally remember where you were. Your partner's room is the next one to this and it's very weird that he's in another prosecutor's room in the middle of the night, surrounded by darkness, holding some papers that obviously don't belong to him. By now you should probably finally realize that Jacques isn't doing anything legal and raise your hand to hold the gun. But you won't do that.

Because sometimes you just can't help it.

Jacques has taken enough steps forward to suddenly stand right in front of you – smiling almost honestly, which is extremely weird too. The darkness that fills the room, covers the hint of sadness from the smile that lays on his face. He knows what your arriving means and it doesn't make him happy. Of course he can always pretend that this is inevitable and that he's just the kind of arrogant and cold-blooded bastard that doesn't give a damn about you. Jacques can convince himself that he won't be sad after you're gone. Maybe this isn't even what he has to do.

But that's the trick; he has to do it. You were the one who asked that fatal question; what are you doing here? Right after that your fate was sealed. But it's never too late to enjoy the last moments, right?

"I'm here because of you", Jacques whispers in to your ear and you can feel his breath against your skin. The other man is so close and you can hear how your heart is beating in your chest like there's no tomorrow. Because this is what you've always wished for; him being so close to you, his hand in your dark hair, the other hand somewhere deep inside of your jacket, wet lips against your lips. For a moment you live somewhere high above alongside the clouds when Jacques is kissing you in the middle of the dark room. You somehow gather the needed courage to lay your hand at the back of his neck and lightly squeeze some of that brown hair you like so much. His golden medal feels cold against your thin shirt. Jacques kisses you for the first time, but like knowing it's also the last time. You should notice this, but you don't.

Since sometimes you just can't help it.

You have admired this man from distance and near. You've been his partner, doing whatever he ever told you to do. You've even succeed to find some good things under that arrogant shell. And you love them just as you love the whole man. You were never anything else to him than a partner, maybe even only a servant, but those things doesn't matter right now. Because Jacques has pushed you against the bookshelf, his hand under you shirt and the kiss hasn't broken yet. This is like a wonderful fantasy for you.

Until suddenly, your fantasy becomes sick and dark.

Jacques lets go of you, backing a few steps leaving you to catch your breath alone against the big bookshelf. For a moment you admire his sporty features and handsome face. But then you see something a lot more alarming. It shines in the moonlight, but it shouldn't be there. It should be in your pocket, not in his hand, pointed at you.

The question dies on your lips while your eyes stare at the gun in Jacques's hand. The other man says something, but you don't hear it anymore. You lift your gaze to his face. They show no mercy, no hope or no anything else that could save you from this situation. The dark grin has taken over his face and it doesn't show pity for you. Then it hits you; you're going to die here. In this dark room, leaning on the bookshelf, through his hands. You should have know, should have remembered what they taught you in the police academy – arrest first, question later.

But you couldn't help it. Life's just that way sometimes. You're going to die and the man you love is going to kill you, without having any feelings of guilt. Maybe it's because of the hopeless situation, but you smile a little at him, like wishing all the best for him. His gaze is icy and cold and it's the last thing you ever remember, because at that moment Jacques shoots and your legs give it up as you fall to the ground – dead.

You never saw the tiny little tear that fell from the corner of your partner's eye. You never saw the huge feeling of guilt and that massive amount of self-despise on his face. Then the all of that was gone and the gun lay abandoned on the ground beside your bleeding body. And Jacques never thought of you just as partner or a servant. But you'll never know this and he can't ever tell this to you anymore, because Jacques had already vanished to the darkness of the night.