AWESOME FREAKIN A THUMBNAIL ARTWORK IS A PIECE BY Nim AND IS USED WITH PERMISSION. THANKS! :)
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For Nim & Anonymous Requester.

Based on a Mafia/Baker AU artwork by nimpnawakproduction (and on her Mafia/Baker AU comics, as well) on Tumblr and an anonymous requester. This fic is dedicated to them, with grateful thanks. :)

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A/N: I do not own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth or Dick Gumshoe; they belong to CAPCOM. The filler plot is mine as are Francis and Thomas McClary, the McKay family and Maura McKay.

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My very first Mafia/Baker AU fic! :) I placed the story in Chicago-for its past history with organized crime-and I also used a little bit of history here, as well. Those who are familiar with Chicago in the 20's and 30's will recognize the address; 2212 North Clark Street used to be the location of the S-M-C Cartage Co... the warehouse that was the place of the infamous St. Valentine's Day massacre, February 14, 1929 where seven members of the Moran gang, led by George "Bugsy" Moran, were gunned down in cold blood. Although he was in Florida at the time of the murders, and was never arrested for the crime-he was arrested later on tax evasion charges-it is thought that it was Al "Scarface" Capone who ordered the hit. (Moran himself certainly thought so)

It was meant to wipe out both Moran and his gang who had been thorns in Capone's side for some time but Moran was late to arrive at the meeting so he wasn't there when the others were killed.

Anyway, hope you enjoy. I really love this AU and plan on writing more in the time to come! :)

Not beta read.

Thanks to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

EXTRA Special thanks to Nim, for her AWESOME Mafia/Baker AU comics and the artwork in question, and the anonymous requester who's request spawned the comic which led to the inspiration for my fic!

EXTRA EXTRA Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, the title, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you! Comments are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed. I will probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! -

Mafia/Baker AU, Tragedy, male/male relationships, Phoenix x Edgeworth

Sources will appear in my profile.

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October 23rd
Miles Edgeworth's Office
Upper West Side
Chicago, Illinois
2 P.M.

Mr. Edgeworth was in a bad mood and Gumshoe knew that always meant trouble, noting that he looked like a hungry tiger as he paced up and down in front of his desk in his office, shivering when he caught a glimpse of the stormy look on his face. That didn't bode well; he couldn't help but wonder, as he watched his boss making a groove in the floor, exactly what it was that had set him off this time.

He was lounging in an easy chair in his office, where Mr. Edgeworth had called him to come in, wondering why he'd asked him to meet him. It was his day off today so he assumed that there must have been a good reason for it.

He thought for awhile before remembering that it might have been that business with the McKay crime family on the West Upper side. He wasn't entirely certain exactly when that had started but that bunch had been a thorn in Mr. Edgeworth's side for a very long time and, judging by the hair brained actions of one of the younger members of the family, weren't going to endear themselves to him any time soon. The elder was already on the outs with Mr. Edgeworth for his greed and it seemed like the rest of the family had decided to follow his example.

"I have been patient long enough," he heard him growl, and looked up to see his black-gloved hand clenched into a fist, "and still they defy me! They would be NOTHING without me!"

Gumshoe gulped and shuddered at the implications. Perhaps the time when he'd have to deal firmly with them has finally arrived…

His legal business in the West Upper side had been suffering for a few months-it was never wise to annoy a Mafia don but to openly, and with impudence, skim off the profits of their business interests was akin to suicide- and Mr. Edgeworth, as he knew well, wouldn't long stand for such insolence and would deal with it when the time came. And, when it did, Gumshoe would make certain that he wasn't anywhere near the area. Mr. Edgeworth's retribution was never quick… or pleasant. He'd heard plenty of stories, and witnessed enough himself, to know that the person was in serious trouble. Mr. Edgeworth never forgot, nor forgave, a slight.

"Damn their impudence!" he heard him growl and Gumshoe was brought back firmly to the present as he looked up to see Mr. Edgeworth's grey eyes gazing right at him.

Gumshoe gulped at that penetrating stare, a chill running down his spine. Oh, hell…

He opened his mouth to apologize-and hoped he would be forgiven for woolgathering-but he continued with his rant, his black-gloved hands clenching into fists, his face twisted into an ugly mask.

"I have been patient long enough," Edgeworth repeated, his voice rising with each word, "and still they defy me! Well, then, I think that it is time to teach them a lesson that they will soon not forget!"

"What do you intend to do, Sir?" Gumshoe asked, trepidation clear in his voice. He really didn't want to know but...

"I intend to rub out that nasty, cretinous bunch once and for all," he replied grimly, turning slowly to face him once again, "and I need you to do something for me."

Gumshoe didn't like the sound of that. "What?"

"Contact the McClary Brothers and tell them that I have a job for them."

Gumshoe's face drained of color as he sat up straight, his eyes wide.

"You… you can't be serious!" he cried, his hands starting to tremble.

Edgeworth nodded grimly, his mouth twisted into a ghastly parody of a smile. "I am."

"But, Sir-!"

He turned a glacial look on him, his clipped voice as cold as ice. "You will do it and you will do it now."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, his eyebrow raising. Although Mr. Edgeworth hadn't said a word, the meaning was crystal clear: I don't have any compunction to move against my enemies and I won't for anyone who disobeys a direct order, either. Gumshoe looked at the floor, his heart pounding.

"Yes… Sir…" he said haltingly.

"Good." Edgeworth went to the safe, opened it and took out a thick cream colored envelope and handed it to Gumshoe before he turned and walked back to his desk. He leaned against it, his hands laid flat, palms down, on the formica top, his face easing into a feral, satisfied smile.

Gumshoe couldn't help but shudder as he peered at him from the corner of his eye. He never liked it when Mr. Edgeworth was in this kind of mood since he seemed to be be possessed and, quite frankly, he scared him.

"Well?" His irritated voice broke through his thoughts and, without another word, Gumshoe scrambled to his feet and promptly left, slamming the door behind him in his haste to escape.

Edgeworth sighed as he watched him leave, crossing his ankles and arms as he leaned against the side of the desk. He appreciated the good man's loyalty to him but sometimes he couldn't help feel annoyed with his timidity. He knew that there were those who were scared witless of him-after all, one wouldn't survive long in the Underworld if they didn't have a reputation-and he couldn't help but feel a trifle isolated because of it.

He sighed and shook his head, letting the thought of those meddling cretins slide out of his mind and being replaced by something much more pleasant: Phoenix Wright, the charming baker that he had a date with later on that evening. He closed his eyes in pleasure as he thought of the handsome young man who had captured his heart some time ago.

He couldn't help but chuckle over their meeting which seemed to be in the annals of the cheesy, though sweet, romance novel plots: he had stepped into his bakery to get out of the rain-thanks to that blundering idiot, Gumshoe-and had started up a conversation with him after properly greeting him.

He'd been amused with the man's complete obliviousness over who he was-he was surprised that there was someone in Chicago who didn't know of him-but, the longer they talked, and meeting in other places over a period of six months, the more he found that he enjoyed the baker's company. That and those delicious pastries he was so fond of; he was amazed at his skill and found that he went into the shop more often than not, armed with the perfect excuse to justify his presence.

That's something I'm definitely looking forward to, he thought, a genuine smile on his face as he thought of the evening to come. I wonder where Wright will want to go to this evening?

He let his thoughts wander as he stared out the window, his face wreathed in a dazzling smile.

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2122 North Clark Street
Chicago, Illinois
3:30 P.M.

Gumshoe stepped hesitantly into the black granite hewn building at the corner of 2122 North Clark Street, taking a deep breath before he entered the ornate front door, his heart pounding in his chest.

He hated coming here; it had such a depressing and oppressive feel to it; even grass refused to grow on the property and, knowing the area's bloody history, it didn't surprise him.

He shivered as he made his way quickly down the hallway to the small office at the far corner in the back. He looked at the black block letters on the door: MCCLARY BROTHERS, INC. It gave no indication as to what the true purpose of their enterprises were which, he supposed as he reached out and knocked on the door, was a good thing.

Members of the Mob didn't want people snooping into their private affairs and business so it was good policy to be as vague as possible about the true nature of your business and, whenever possible, to give the appearance of being, at least outwardly, legitimate and legal.

"Come in," a rich, smooth voice called out and he entered quickly, closing the door firmly behind him. He looked into the gloom and saw two figures dressed in matching velvet black pinstripe suits, their shoulder length snow white hair crowned with black fedora hats.

They looked like your stereotypical gangsters but no one had ever, to his knowledge, said so straight to their faces. They were a pair of vicious, coldblooded, killers and the best assassins the Underworld had at its command. By the looks of their rather ornate furnishings and trappings, business was indeed good.

"Ah, Gumshoe," the taller of the two, Francis, called out, waving him inside, a cold smile on his face as they exchanged the perfunctory greetings, his hazel eyes glittering. "Welcome to our humble abode."

"Indeed, it is good to see you again," the shorter, and stouter brother, Thomas quipped, his black eyes also glittering with a sinister, and cold, light.

"T-Thank you," Gumshoe replied, a slight quiver in his voice. The fact that he was afraid of these psychotic twosome was evident and it clearly amused them.

"Oh, do sit down, Dick," Francis quipped, waving his hand lazily at a high backed velvet chair close to the desk by the window that looked out into the street, "and tell us your business here." He glanced at Thomas before that cold gaze turned back to him. "I suspect that Mr. Edgeworth has need of our… services?"

Gumshoe nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Ah," Thomas purred as he stepped into the dim light that illuminated the office and Gumshoe couldn't help but wonder why they kept it so dim in here. Maybe some of the rumors he'd heard about them were true... "I'm pleased to hear that! My brother and I were getting a little… restless… over the lack of business lately." He grinned evilly. "Your arrival, just when we were about to wander off and find something to amuse ourselves, is, indeed, fortuitous!"

Gumshoe swallowed hard and merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It was difficult, at best, to see much of anything in here with the light so low but he supposed that they had their reasons and the last thing he wanted to do was to ask them. He just wanted to do what Mr. Edgeworth had ordered him to do and get the hell out of this creepy place, and as far away from them, as possible.

"What does he want us to do?" Francis brought the conversation back to the point of the reason why he was here. "Or, should I say, whom does he wish us to kill since I assume this is the reason for your visit today?"

Gumshoe gaped at him in astonishment, his eyes widening. To say something so blithely, and off the cuff, like that unnerved him and chilled him to his very marrow, making him doubly anxious to finish Mr. Edgeworth's business with them and get as far away from Clark Street as he could as quickly as possible.

"H-How… did you…?" he faltered, closing his mouth quickly, a blush rising in his cheeks as both Thomas and Francis laughed, a harsh, brittle sound.

"Do give us credit for having some intelligence, Dick," Francis chided, his eyes narrowing into evil little slits that Gumshoe swore bored into his very soul. "We know all about Mr. Edgeworth's quarrel with the McKay family and knew it would only be a matter of time before that impudent little puppy Brendon overstepped his boundaries and gave him yet another reason to want to have him rubbed out."

He shrugged as he sat back in his chair and Thomas sat on the edge of the right hand corner of the desk, sinister grimaces on both men's faces. "Now then, what does Mr. Edgeworth wish us to do? Whom does he wish us to dispose of?"

"The entire McKay Family," he replied quickly, opening his jacket and retrieving a thick cream colored envelope and placing it quickly on the desk. "Here is the down payment; the rest will be delivered once the job is done."

Francis nodded in satisfaction as he picked up the envelope, opened it and counted the thick wad of crisp one hundred dollar bills that were tucked inside.

"Mr. Edgeworth is, indeed, generous to give us such a handsome price for a family who count no more than gnats on the Underworld radar." Francis grinned maliciously. "We'll be happy to do this for him. Any time he wants it done?"

Gumshoe shook his head. "All he said was that he wanted it taken care of once and for all; he didn't specify a time."

"I would suspect that he would like us to take care of it sooner rather than later," Thomas piped up, his tone excited at the prospect of rubbing out the McKay family. "I believe there was some prattle about the McKay family going out to dinner to celebrate the patriarch's birthday in an out of the way restaurant somewhere on St. Charles street." He grinned savagely, a strange, cold light in his eyes. "Perhaps we should make it our business to pay them a visit this evening… while they are all attending?"

Francis nodded in approval at his brother's suggestion. "A very good idea, brother." He glanced at Gumshoe. "Would this be acceptable to Mr. Edgeworth, Dick?"

He nodded. "As long as you get it done, I don't think it really matters to him the method you use in executing it."

"Excellent!" Francis clapped his hands in delight and reached behind him for the silver tray that lay on the side table, three snifter glasses and a crystal carafe of an amber colored liquid inside. "This calls for a celebration to toast our continued employment and for such a plum assignment!"

He took off the top and poured three glasses, handing one to his brother who took it with a frosty smile and offered Gumshoe the last, his eyes daring him to refuse. Gumshoe accepted it quickly, looking at the glass as if it were a poisonous viper.

Both men chuckled as Francis filled his own snifter before putting the top back on the carafe and setting it to the side. He picked it up and held it aloft.

"To Mr. Edgeworth," he intoned solemnly as both Thomas and Gumshoe, the latter with great reluctance, held their glasses aloft, "our most generous employer! Long may he reign in Chicago!"

"To Mr. Edgeworth!" Thomas and Gumshoe responded, lifting the glasses to their lips and downed it in one gulp. Gumshoe coughed as some of the brandy went down the wrong pipe, both Francis and Thomas teasing him about not being able to hold his liquor.

He had a sickly smile on his face but took the ribbing in good humor, mentally counting the seconds before he could leave this awful place. They kept him for a little while longer-perhaps they enjoyed seeing him squirm-before they finally let him go, hearing their laughter echoing as he raced out the door, closing it and leaning back against it, trying to catch his breath.

He couldn't help but feel that he had just escaped with his skin and, as he quickly exited the building, he could still hear their laughter echoing in the silent street.

He couldn't shake the persistent feeling of unease he'd been plagued with ever since his arrival here although he supposed that could be because of the location. He wasn't exactly certain why but he had a really bad feeling about the whole enterprise. If he had his druthers, he would have turned around and gone back in to cancel it but he knew that he couldn't. He'd been given a direct order from Mr. Edgeworth himself and he knew that there would be hell to pay if he disobeyed him. He'd seen what had happened to those who stymied him.

He sighed. His mouth was turned down at the corners, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets as he quickly crossed the street to where his car was parked. I've done what you sent me to do, Mr. Edgeworth. I only hope that you don't end up regretting it.