Alternate Route :: The Pieces
Humor! Finally!
This takes place during Chapter 15 (or, The Connection), where Edgeworth is at the hospital and needs to throw the phone down the garbage chute in order to get to the basement.
When you had to call cell phones to transport, logic got a bit iffy.
Edgeworth glanced at the cell phone in his hand, and then his gaze moved to the trash chute in front of him. He'd already transported twice recently, so it wasn't like he wasn't used to it by now. He just felt like he was forgetting something important.
"What's wrong, Mister Ruffles?" Missile asked, his head cocked.
Edgeworth kept looking between the chute and the phone. He had another phone tucked into his jacket pocket, so it wasn't that. What was it? "Just thinking," he told the dog.
Well, he'd have to do it sometime, anyways. He couldn't just stand here, thinking it through. After a moment, he opened the garbage chute and dropped the phone down.
The sound of plastic breaking was not reassuring in the slightest.
Right. Padding. He'd only dropped the phone down four stories. He internally groaned at his own stupidity. Wright or Larry he could see doing this. Even Maya. But himself? Thank goodness Franziska wasn't here to see this.
He contemplated what to do next. On the off chance that the phone had merely broke its cover and not the internal workings, he called the number, but only got a busy signal.
That couldn't be good.
How was he supposed to get down to the basement now?
"Well, that's unfortunate." A feminine voice made him turn, and his eyes opened wide as he realized that Dahlia Hawthorne was standing right in front of him. Missile, of course, was nowhere to be found, and he silently cursed the dog for abandoning him again without warning.
Panic rose inside of him, but he was Miles Edgeworth! He did not get flustered! "You don't happen to have a phone I could borrow, do you?" he asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.
Her giggle made it clear exactly what she thought of his charade. "Do you really want to get to the basement? I could help, you know."
She sounded sincere, but knowing Dahlia, it would be a trap . . . "And how are you suggesting you help?" he asked.
Everything turned red, and she started walking towards him. Just looking at her made his heart race. He backed up, finding himself sandwiched between her and the wall. He needed to do something . . .
It was four stories. It might be a tight fit, but he had a better chance of surviving that than whatever Dahlia had planned for him. He opened the garbage chute, and had barely taken the time to blink when he felt something sharp pierce his stomach. "FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL OF A FOOL! OF COURSE A CELL PHONE WOULDN'T SURVIVE THAT FALL!"
And now Franziska was here and she'd stabbed him with those goddamned scissors.
Even as he was dying, he reflected that the situation could not have gone worse.
A glass of water and a midnight visit to Missile later (he was pretty sure that Inspector Cabanela was not amused by how often Edgeworth showed up on his doorstep asking to see Missile these days), and Edgeworth was back in his own home. These dreams might not be logical, but he had conquered the Mnemonic Abyss the first time!
Well, actually, according to Pearl, Maya had been the one to conquer the Abyss and the rest of them had just been minor players, but details, details.
He had managed to get out of the Mnemonic Abyss mostly alive . . . just very violated . . . He shivered despite himself. He would never look at Phoenix Wright the same way again, and even if the man was trying to make amends, there would still be that tiny voice in his head that reminded him that Phoenix had managed to get his jacket off before he'd completely blacked out.
His jacket!
Under his jacket, he'd just been wearing his pajamas and cravat!
How . . .
How scandalous!
Pulling the blankets up over his head, Edgeworth sank back down into sleep, hoping that this time, his slumber would be dreamless.
Take two, he supposed. Once again, he stood with a cell phone in his hand, the garbage chute in front of him.
There was gauze on the table across from him, and this time, he wrapped the cell phone in it, feeling proud of himself before dropping it into the garbage chute.
He reached into his pocket for the other cell phone and froze.
There was nothing in his pocket.
Somehow, he'd managed to not pick up the other cell phone.
After a few not-so-nice words and a kicking match with a cabinet that had fought back, Edgeworth leaned up against the counter. Where had the other cell phone been left at this point? He retraced his steps in his head. He'd grabbed the phone from the Nurse's Office and left it . . . down at the first floor! Relieved that this mistake was one he could fix, he turned to go down the hallway, only to be greeted with the old hag in red standing at the other end of the small kitchen area.
"EDGEY-POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
"Oh not again!" he shouted in exasperation, throwing himself back against the wall. He didn't care where he was, just that he was as far away from her as possible!
"EDGEY-POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
She rushed towards him, her graying hair falling into her eyes. He whimpered, suddenly wishing he could go through walls. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he shouted, although it was drowned out by her own screams.
The next thing he knew, his jacket was hitting the floor.
"You don't look so good," Maya said as Edgeworth entered the Wright Anything Agency the next day. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Fine," he snapped.
Stupid abyss. Stupid Dahlia. Stupid nightmares. Stupid astral bodies. Like he believed in any of this.
He stomped over to the couch, throwing himself down on it, still fuming. Even Athena kept a safe distance this time, setting the bowl of chips at the far end of the table and then sliding them over with a ruler she'd picked up from the desk.
He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to share any of this.
Stupid spirit world.
After a few minutes, something warm and fluffy was unceremoniously dropped on his lap. Missile. The dog yipped and licked at his nose, impervious to Edgeworth's bad mood. "Inspector Cabanela says you can keep him during therapy as long as you stop coming to his door at three in the morning," Phoenix said, taking the seat on the other side of the couch. Maya sat between them, her hand outstretched to pet Missile.
Edgeworth held the dog closer to his chest and slapped her hand away.
"Talk about protective," Apollo said, seating himself in the chair across from the couch and grabbing a few of the potato chips.
Missile yipped, worming his way out of Edgeworth's death grip to lick Maya's hand before returning his attentions to the prosecutor.
"So, what should we talk about today?" Athena asked, taking her place at the head of the group.
"How about Edgeworth's grumpiness?" Maya muttered under her breath, obviously not satisfied with how he was hogging Missile.
Phoenix nodded. "You do seem a little on-edge today, Edgeworth."
Edgeworth merely stroked the dog's head repeatedly.
His cell phone vibrated, and Edgeworth had an idea that he knew what was about to come. He clutched the dog tighter still, only letting go when Missile began to whine and moved to Maya's lap instead (Maya gave a happy squeal at this, and she immediately smothered the dog with affection). After a long moment, he pulled the cell phone out and looked at the message.
It looked like a kid's drawing, with two stick figures, one with a pink suit, and the other in a red dress, standing close enough together that they overlapped and their hands were in rather, um, scandalous places. Scrawled at the top of the message was, "I was HAPPY that our eyes met."
Without another thought, Edgeworth chucked his phone at the wall, grabbed Missile, and gently began to stroke the dog again.
Phoenix merely sighed at the new hole in the wall of his office. After a minute, when it became clear that Edgeworth was going to do no more than sit on the couch, pet Missile, and pretend that nothing had happened, he asked, "You do know you have to give him back, right?"
Edgeworth hissed and curled up more tightly around the dog.
The End :: The Pieces
A/N ::
Shikola ::
We should probably put this in the heading but: WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS SIDE STORY WHILE WATCHING A DEPRESSING WAR MOVIE IN CLASS! WE CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THE LAUGHING FITS THAT MAY ENSUE! Well, technically we can, but what are you going to do about it? Anyways, I'm speaking from experience there. I probably shouldn't have tried to edit this during my history class, but what's done is done.
So in spite of the fact that I wrote the Edgeworth chapters and hogged Missile through most of the story, I didn't write this! Ha! In fact, my Missile hogging became quite the issue for Melody. My justification was somewhere between Edgeworth would NOT do most of this on his own, and I really really really really like Missile. One of those seemed to win out and I got to keep the puppy! However, SPOILERS! Due to my hogging of our favorite fur-ball, Melody gets Missile all to herself in the entire first Sailor Frame story. Our answer for any plot problems: throw Missile at it!
Melody Canta ::
Au contraire, Shikola, it's because you wrote the Edgeworth chapters and hogged Missile that this became a thing. Consider this my revenge! Mwahahahahaha.
Right. Seriousness.
Probably not what you were expecting from a fanfiction that we originally killed off almost all the characters from, right? But hey, we promised humor, and hopefully we delivered. I've been trying to cut coffee, so instead of having my daily cup, I've been sitting down and writing a little bit with a cup of chai tea (it's not nearly as satisfying, if you were wondering). So, between this and Luna Obscura, I should have more chapters up for you guys soon.
Including more crack like this.
The actual chapter itself is influenced by the game, where as Makoto, you get the choice to drop the phone down the garbage chute before finding the padding. Of course, curious person I am, I decided to do so. Suddenly, Shikola and I were laughing as Reiko suddenly comes up and insta-kills you, just trapping you in this tiny little kitchen area (I tried to run because it looked like you could get around her. Apparently you cannot). So, note to self, dropping a phone down four stories is a bad idea.
Franziska's appearance is all me (because we need more stabby scissor fun in our lives!), as is Oldbag's. If I can stop laughing over it, I might have to write something from Oldbag's perspective. Of course, every time I sit down to do it, I end up laughing so hard that it completely overrules the purpose.