Buuuut, while playing the fifth case, I got the distinct feeling that... Lana Skye and Jake Marshall were, uh, YEAH. And then I thought, "HM, ANGST" and then I wrote this. In my living room. By hand. You know me and angst... we're Nutella and anything flat and bread-like. Or spoon-ish.
Anyways, I don't own Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, or any of the characters, etc. The lyrics belong to My Chemical Romance.
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Ghost of You
A Lana Skye/Jake Marshall oneshot by Strike To Incinerate.
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I never said I'd lie and wait forever...
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Lana Skye looked up from the Chief Prosecutor's desk, unfazed by the sound of a knock. Being in charge of a whole department brought a lot of those.
"Come in," she said tonelessly.
There was a lot of that, too.
The door opened, followed by the clicking of spurs. A man with shoulder-length brown hair and a deep tan tilted his hat to her. "Howdy, Bambina," he greeted.
Her lips almost turned up into a smile. Almost. She wanted to take pride in the fact that he could smile so soon after a tragedy so great; the death of his brother. But how could she, when that was nearly part of 'picking up the pieces' of the mess herself, her sister and the "Chief" of Police, Damon Gant, had made. The chains of guilt weighed down everything... including smiles.
"Hello, Mr. Marshall," she replied, then glanced down to the files that she had been browsing through.
He grinned at her. To his credit, it wasn't all exaggeration and boasting that he was the 'beauty' of his family; he had a dazzling smile. "I'm Jake, bambina... Mr. Marshall was..." he trailed off. It seemed that despite his outward optimism, he was harboring the feelings of loss.
She nodded and asked, "What brings you here, Jake? Are you fetching files for Detective Goodman?"
He looked away. Lana had heard that Angel Starr had been kicked out of the PD, and that Jake had been demoted... maybe she shouldn't've said that.
"No ma'am," he grinned again. "I'm here on a personal matter."
She stood from her chair, brushing her signature red scarf and a few locks of her walnut hair over her shoulder. "Jake, not the..." she began.
He pulled out a small silver flask, popped the cap, and took a sip. He gave her a wink as he slipped the container back into his pocket. "Nope. My reason is you."
She raised a hand, delicately placing it on her chest. "Me? Jake, I'm not going to help you," she told him plainly. 'I want to... Jake, I really do, but I can't,' she thought.
"Like the cacti in the desert, it seems I grow alone," he sighed. "But, bambina... I just wanted to thank you," he finished.
"I didn't do anything," she answered quickly.
'Don't push, Jake. You don't know what's going on. You only have hunches. I won't let you manipulate me, too... with your charm, smiles, easy going demeanor, that laughable accent... unknowingly making me feel worse than I already do. If I let you in, it'll be Ema taking the fall... No!!'
"You did, bambina," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder.
"I didn't," she replied.
"You did!" he insisted. His hand gripped her shoulder now. She found herself staring intently at the file that laid on her desk. Jake manuevered around the desk until he was standing beside her. "You were the only person that stepped back to check on me. Gant and Goodman were celebrating their victory, and his promotion, and Angel was too busy fuming. But even though you had to wrap up the case... and with your sister... you stepped back to help me out. That doesn't happen often in Texas," he said.
She sighed. "We aren't in Texas, Jake," she pointed out.
He reached up to rest a hand on her cheek. She flinched. "I know," he winked again. "I just wanted to say... thanks."
"It was really no..." she began, but she was cut off by a pair of thin, pliant lips. They were unexpectedly soft, pressing gently... almost pleading against her own.
Finally, he pulled back, and she exhaled.
"...thing."
He smiled at her. "Thanks again, bambina," he said.
And he proceeded to thank her again.
She trembled as his arms slid around her, and maybe, he thought... the wall of impenetrable ice that had encased her and made her so frigid and unreachable the past few months... maybe it was starting to melt.
Until she pushed him away. She watched his startled look as he brushed against the large desk and stumbled back. She couldnt help but wonder... if maybe Emo had felt this way after pushing Neil...
but Jake didn't happen to land on a knife.
"Why?!" he demanded. Suddenly, he wasn't so laid back and cool... he was as hot as unchecked as a forest fire. "Why're you so cold, Lana?"
"I... what're you talking about?" she retorted, but her voice sounded unconvincing, even to herself.
"You didn't used to be like this! You didn't used to push me away, bambina!" he said, his fists clenching.
"You... you threw yourself at me!" she said, slamming her hand on the desk, her eyes narrowing. "I was surprised!"
He mirrored her expression, but there was more pain in his eyes. "Not just me... I saw your sister run out of here, crying!" he shouted.
"So now you're spying on me?!"
"What, did she throw herself at you, too?!"
She slapped him, and he reeled again. He spit red onto the floor, then wiped his mouth with the similarly colored bandanna around his neck.
She gasped, reaching out for him, but he swatted her hands away.
"The only person you look out for now is yourself... and Gant!" he accused.
'That's not true... you don't know how not true that statement is, Jake. You would put yourself in my place if it meant helping Neil... But I can't make you understand!'
"Be quiet!" she warned, regaining her composure. She turned her back to him.
"I know why! You and Gant... SL-9!" he continued. "You did do something!"
"You have no proof, Mr. Marshall. And furthermore, I asked you to be quiet," she said firmly.
"I'm not gonna 'be quiet!' I'm gonna keep going like a bull after a red flag until the case is re-opened!" he declared, heading towards the door.
"You're no longer welcome in this office, Officer Marshall!" she called after him. Her addition of, "And stay away from SL-9!" was followed closely by the slam of a heavy door.
She sunk back into her chair, one hand reaching for the phone. Shaking fingers curled around it, but could not lift it up. She slumped forward.
'Someday, Ema... you and Jake will understand why I have to keep you away. I only hope that I can make it up to you both.'
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At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are ever ever.
Ever...
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That's the end. Lana Skye/Jake Marshall forever! I know... I write one oneshot, and then I start shipping. Oh, it's become a bad habit for me. OH WELL.
Read and Review, please.