I'll never forget the day I re-met Miles Edgeworth. It wasn't particularly special - I woke up, got ready for work, bought a muffin at the gas station while filling up my Beetle, and barely made it to my desk by 8. Pretty much the same thing I'd been doing every morning since I started working there the week before.

Then the chief of detectives comes over to my desk and asks if I "wanted to prove that I was more than just an overpaid chick in gothy clothes." So, the day had only just started, and my boss was already trying to make me do something dumb so he could write me up. I mean, hello! I'm a detective - how the hell can anyone living on a detective's salary be considered overpaid? And my clothes aren't gothy, thank you very much. If you must label me, I prefer the term "Ecclectic".

Thankfully, I kept these comments to myself that morning... Anyway, the chief handed me a file folder and sent me over to the head prosecutor's office. So, after waiting fourty-five minutes for our esteemed colleagues at the police department to take care of a fender-bender IN THE PARKING LOT, I finally made my way up to meet the prosecutor who had requested a 'temporary assistant'.

"What kind of prosecutor requests a detective's assistance on a temporary basis, anyway?" I muttered as I walked into the lobby, reading the file.

"It's rude to speak under your breath, Detective." A cultured voice observed. I looked up from my file. "The reason I requested a detective on a temporary basis is simple. My partner, Detective Dick Gum-"

"Gumshoe? That explains it, then." I said, handing the folder to the prosecutor, who was dressed in a maroon suit and... A frilly white cravat. "Wow." I said, montioning to the cravat. "Haven't seen one of those since last Holloween... Guy down the hall dressed as an undead David Bowie. Name's Wright, by the way. Detective Natalie Wright." The prosecutor turned white as a sheet - If it hadn't been for the smoky gray hair and lack of pizzazz, he coulda been the vampiric singer.

"Wright? As in... Phoenix Wright?" He sputtered, something I don't think he did often. As if he had heard my little observation, he shook his head quickly and straighted. "You wouldn't happen to be-"

"Related to him? Yeah, he's my older brother. Judging by your reaction, you must be Miles." I said, punctuating my statement by snapping my gum so that it echoed in the silent lobby like a shot. He cringed and pointed to a trash can.

"Dispose of that immediately." He said, shuddering slightly. I grinned and complied. "I would prefer it immensely if you would call me Prosecutor Edgeworth, or Mr. Edgeworth. Not Miles. Never Edg-"

"Never Edgey or Worthy. Nick told me. So, where are we headed? Chief told me you were in charge, so... Charge." He rubbed his temples. Yes, Mr.-Prosecutor-Edgeworth-not-Miles-never-Edgy-or-Worthy, you are in for a very long day.