Disclaimer: Work steals your soul!

AN: You see that disclaimer? It's totally true. Work steals your soul and drains the inspiration right outta ya. Not having the game in-hand and ready to play at a moment's notice hurts too, but not as much as work. Anyway, here's the next chappie! Enjoy!

Mysteriously Reforged

Miles Edgeworth stepped off the bus at the stop in Kurain Village. He was dressed impeccably, as always, and (aside from the slightly rumpled condition of his suit and the small spot on his cravat from where he'd spilled a drop of tea) there was no outward indication of what an arduous trip he had just taken. Except for his dour glare and the severe frown plastered across his face. To a stranger it would seem that he was merely irritated; but to one who knew Edgeworth well like Phoenix, it was clear that the prosecutor was well beyond 'irritated' and just short of tiptoeing over the brink into 'utterly enraged'.

"Wright, tell me, what piece of evidence was so important that you had me come all the way out here? Especially when I know you're perfectly capable of bringing anything you wish me to see to my office."

There were many way that Phoenix could have replied, he realized that later, but at that moment the only thing he could manage was a loud gulp and the whimpering thought "Scary!" He knew that if it had been Gumshoe who called Edgeworth out to Kurain Village, that dangerous voice would be threatening dire pay cuts and demotions, along with being plain terrifying. No wonder Edgeworth was called the Demon Prosecutor...

"C-come on Edgeworth, it wasn't that bad of a trip, was it?" No answer. "Sorry I asked... I would've brought the jar to you, but Maya wouldn't let me take it out of the mansion. Ah, do you want to see it now or do you, uh, want a snack or something?" For some reason it was terribly surreal to ask Miles that. "Maya and Pearl made cookies, and I bet they could put on a pot of tea..."

A small hint of an almost-smile raced across Edgeworth's face at the mention of tea. It was more of a long-suffering grimace than a grin of good humor, but it was a start. Phoenix let out the breath he'd been holding and led the way to the Fey family manor.

-- -- -- -- --

An hour and a half later, after Miles shocked everyone assembled by drinking and enjoying Aunt Morgan's most bitter tea without any extra sweeteners, he and Phoenix stepped out onto the Winding Way.

"There it is." Phoenix pointed down the Way to a cracked blue jar sitting on a small stand.

Edgeworth stepped closer and examined the jar. It was nothing spectacular, just an average pot that had been broken and glued back together by Pearl Fey, if he remembered correctly from what he'd read in Franziska's records. The girl did a good job of reconstructing it. Aside from a few gaps where the shards of ceramic had been too tiny to replace or lost, the pieces fit together perfectly. Cracks could be seen snaking across the jar's surface, but for the most part it was whole and restored.

"What is so special about this, Wright? It's just an unremarkable jar. It couldn't possibly be as important as you claim."

"It's very important!" Wright corrected, sounding more than a little indignant. "This jar is supposed to hold the spirit of Ami Fey, Maya and Pearl's-" Edgeworth held up a hand to silence him.

"I know what it is. While I may not have been present at the court proceedings, I read Franziska's notes on the case and am aware of what happened. Now, tell me what you wish me to see before we waste any more time."

Phoenix was taken aback for half a second, but recovered quickly. Of course Miles would know what the jar was, it was the man's nature to know every obscure fact ever aired in a courtroom, ever. He shouldn't have expected anything less from Miles Edgeworth. One thing still bothered him though: If Edgeworth already knew the jar's history, then how could he not realize why it was special?

"Edgeworth, I want you to look very closely at that jar. Take in every detail and think about what you know, you'll figure it out."

Thoroughly peeved since he had already done just that, Edgeworth took another glance and answered with the air of one who is more than ready to strangle the nearest living thing, but too curious to actually do so.

"It was broken and put back together." Phoenix nodded. "Some smaller fragments are missing, but for the most part everything is in place."

Phoenix couldn't believe he had spotted something that Edgeworth had missed. It was finally time to reveal his hand.

"Okay, so you agree with me that the jar has been reassembled almost exactly as it was before it got broken, right? Same shape and everything?"

"I never saw it before it was accepted as evidence, but I must say yes. Ms. Fey did an excellent job of reconstructing it."

All right, that was it, the moment of truth! Phoenix almost started into his habitual action of tapping his hand against a copy of the court record, but stopped himself when he remembered he wasn't in the courtroom.

"Edgeworth, if that jar is in almost-pristine condition, why does it say 'I AM' instead of 'AMI'?"

It took a few seconds for the statement to sink in, but when it did Edgeworth froze. Without a podium to hit and lean on, he had no choice but to hold perfectly still or risk falling over.

"How did this happen, Wright?"

Phoenix shook his head. "I don't know, I'm as clueless as you are. When a jar breaks, it shatters into uniquely shaped shards that can only be put together one way. That's why it can be accepted as evidence in court. At least, that's how it should be." Edgeworth nodded dumbly; he was too stunned to stop Phoenix from explaining the already-familiar concept. "Pearl found some way around that fact and we haven't been able to figure out how."

Silence. Phoenix had said his piece and waited patiently for Edgeworth to absorb the message. After a few minutes, the prosecutor spoke up.

"Do you know what this means, Wright?" His tone was deadly serious and his demeanor just as scary as when he first arrived in Kurain. "This jar proves that there's yet another way for evidence to be... Forged." Edgeworth spat the word, looking slightly ill, like diner who finds an errant cockroach floating in their soup. Phoenix couldn't blame him.

"Yeah. I thought the Police Department should know, but I wasn't sure who to talk to. I don't really know anyone aside from you and Detective Gumshoe."

More silence. For Edgeworth, whose entire life and sense of self-worth had been shaken to the core by forged and falsified evidence, this revelation was the ultimate nightmare. Thanks to that little jar there was a whole new reason for him to doubt himself. Had any of the broken objects he used in the past been like this? Had he been using false evidence right and left and not even known it?

And here he thought his self-imposed exile had helped him to beat all these specters of doubt...

There was no choice. Edgeworth knew what he had to do. Holding his head high and radiating his most intimidating vibes, he turned to face Phoenix.

"Wright, I must have that jar." Phoenix wasn't expecting that.

"What? I can't just-" Edgeworth's patience was all but gone. This was a critical discovery, it couldn't just be ignored in some tiny backwater town! In dire circumstances like this, a minor rudeness like interrupting was easily excusable.

"Whatever you're thinking right now, it's not important Wright. I have to take that jar back to the city for analysis. If there's a way to slip evidence around the system, we must know about it and take action to prevent that. The integrity of the entire legal process is at stake!"

Faced with an exceptionally angry Edgeworth, the only thought in Phoenix's head was "Yikes!" Franziska's whip had been scary, and her father was just plain infernal, but compared to this terrifying side of Edgeworth, they were nothing. Phoenix couldn't help but wonder if his father had possessed the same impressive presence. It only made sense that a will that strong could have made Manfred von Karma stumble. Still, as intimidating as Edgeworth was, there was one little fact that kept Phoenix from folding.

"Hold it! I'd let you take Ami's jar if I could, but it's not mine to give away. It belongs to Maya."

That didn't slow Edgeworth in the slightest.

"Very well, then I'll ask her." Turning sharply on his heel, Miles shot off down the Way back to the Main Hall where Pearl and Maya were finishing up the last of the cookies. Phoenix watched him go, sadly shaking his head the whole time. He knew there was no way Miles would get the permission he asked for. If she hadn't trusted him, her dear friend Nick, with her family's precious heirloom, it was inconceivable that she would entrust it to the man she saw as distant and somewhat cold Mr. Edgeworth.

Taking one last look at the mysterious jar, Phoenix headed back to the Main Hall. He was definitely not looking forward to the argument that awaited him. As he walked he wondered, what sort of mess had he gotten himself into this time?

-- -- -- -- --

Edgeworth, Phoenix was convinced, was a master negotiator. He had taken what seemed like a fantastically impossible scenario and turned it into a reality, and he managed to do it all in under five minutes. With naught but a shrewd promise and a quick phone call, Miles had what he wanted.

The three of them stood in the Police Department's forensics lab, watching as the technicians began to analyze the pot, Maya's intense gaze practically burning holes in their pristine lab coats every second that the jar was out of her hands. She didn't like to let it go, but Mr. Edgeworth had made such an amazing offer... Four tickets to "The Steel Samurai on Ice," rinkside seats too! How could she resist?