Wow. You guys, this took me so long to put up. I'm so sorry. I wrote one short chapter for this in the time that it took me to write three chapters in 'Infatuation.' (if you're into Harry Potter, please read!)
I'm sooooooo sorryyyy
I've been so busy. I've had this really big book project that I need to complete this summer, but I finally put that aside to finish this. I knew I could; just, I didn't think it'd take this long.
Thanks for your patience, loves! Thank you so much. I'll get the next chap. out way sooner.
Oh, and thanks for all of your reviews, guys! I really do appreciate it. Thanks so much.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ace Attorney or anything affiliated. I wish I did; I'd have Miles all to myself and be able to make any OTP possible... hee hee hee...
Enjoy, guys, please! Sorry for the lateness and the shortness. I just wanted to get this part out of the way.
Now go get disturbed.
He was out of his mind. Delusional. He had to be. He blinked as he stared down at the cold, solid object held loosely in his right hand. The black, shiny coating mocked him as the thing sat in stark contrast to his smooth, pale, manicured hands. His long, thin fingers instinctively curled around the thick handle, index easily finding and resting on the trigger.
He couldn't possibly use this..?
A few locks of silky blond hair rebelled from their confines and fell forward into his face, covering his glasses, partially obscuring his vision. Impatiently, he pulled them back and tucked them behind his ear again, gaze never once leaving the weapon he held so calmly.
He felt his resolve wavering as he continued to stare blankly at the gun he held. Maybe… perhaps just one was enough to send a point across? Did he really feel he had to continue this barbarianism?
He glanced next to him, at the photograph – now torn – and his eyes narrowed angrily again, feeling conviction and renewed purpose flow through his veins icily, freezing his inner doubts. No. No, no, no. That idiot deserved the pain. They deserved to die.
If he concentrated hard enough, he could have felt all warmth flow swiftly out of his chest, leaving nothing but cold stoniness as the weapon weighed heavier in his hand.
She bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, eager to see him again after so long. With her joy radiating off of her features, she barely felt the ache in her legs from the workout. She had decided to take this entire day to visit Mr. Wright. She'd go see the prosecutor later; tomorrow, perhaps? By the time she reached the third floor of apartments, her cheeks were flushed red and her stark white lab coat billowed around her thin legs. She was breathing deeply, chest heaving.
She had barely knocked on the farthest door to the right before it was flung open eagerly. Phoenix Wright stood before her, nearly towering over her petite form, looking almost exactly how she remember the lawyer – well, former lawyer, now, she thought sullenly. His raven-black spikes were still sharpened to perfection, his jaw clean-shaven. He looked quite comfortable in a casual white t-shirt and knee-length shorts, and a small, content smile rested on his lips. Eying her, he turned to rest his back on the doorframe. "Ema Skye," he noted slowly. "It's good to see you again, Ema."
Said science nut could feel that pesky grin begin to spread across her face again, and just like before, she leapt forward to tackle-hug him, though it seemed like Phoenix was expecting it. He accepted her small show of affection, gathering her up in an embrace.
She pulled away. "I missed you, Mr. Wright. I really did."
"We all missed you too, Miss Forensic Scientist."
Awkwardly, she scuffed her shoe against the rough concrete. "So… how have you been? I… I heard about what happened," she added when she saw the man frown.
"Yes… Shame, isn't it?"
"More like unfair. That wasn't right, what they did to you and your reputation. But… Mr. Wright… Mr. Edgeworth told me you had a daughter, now, too…"
The ex-attorney's demeanor brightened considerably at mention on this. "Yes. Trucy. Would you like to meet her?"
Ema smiled softly. "Yes, please."
His eyes twinkled a little bit, even mischievously. "She's at school right now… but I'm sure you'll meet sometime soon." He grinned at her bemused expression, making her brows furrow together. Then he coughed. "Would you like to walk? We can share our stories and all, because I'm really not sure my place is in the best conditions for… guests right now." He motioned with a wave of his hand to the stretch of road beyond the high-up rails that kept the apartments boxed in.
"Um… okay. Sure, Mr. Wright."
He chuckled at her pink-hued cheeks, slipping on a pair of black sport sandals that had been sitting by the door before stepping out to close it and lock up.
"Err… Mr. Wright? You're going walking in that?" the girl brought up skeptically.
"Well," he sighed happily, displaying his nonchalant attitude as the corners of his mouth twitched, "I don't see why not."
"Detective…" the maroon prosecutor groaned, massaging his temples. "You… You've been a big help to me today… Why don't you… just… take the rest of the day off?" He stared pointedly at the huge stack of paperwork inhabiting his desk and felt the stirrings of the tell-tale signs of his anxiousness and crankiness that he got almost daily. Absentmindedly , he continued stirring his Earl Grey tea, though it had long ago cooled to the point of chilliness (again).
Detective Gumshoe, however, still seemed plenty eager to help his lawyer friend. "But, sir," the larger, ragged man insisted, "that… that knife, I could run it back over to the labs for more testing if you want me to, or-or do a screening on the picture or go process the scene again –"
"Detective," Miles repeated warningly, glancing up at the scruffy person hovering over his desk in the midst of rereading the case-file.
The former sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, stepping away from the desk. "Y-yes, sir."
The prosecutor blinked before offering an unsteady, yet encouraging smile in face of the man's loyalty. "Take the day off, good man. Spend it comfortably." He swallowed. "Spend it with Maggey."
At the mention of his Lady Luckless, Gumshoe allowed a large, goofy grin to spread across his once-sad face. "Yes, sir!" he repeated, with more vigor. "Good idea! Thanks a lot, Mr. Edgeworth." He chuckled, his tanned cheeks flushing with pleasure.
Miles cleared his throat, unwilling to admit to himself the stirrings of jealousy he felt towards the happy-go-lucky detective, who had someone willing to just sit down with him and let him unwind. Franziska was in Germany still (though due to return in a few weeks), Kay was off who-knows-where, and even Wright would cause Miles' blood pressure to do nothing but rise. Sighing, his eyes refocused as he was drawn back into the real world, snapping from his reverie. He found the detective still staring at him from the other side of his desk. Slightly unnerved, the prosecutor waved his hand dismissively towards the egress. "Yes, yes, Detective. You, er… may go now…"
"Oh, sure thing, Mr. Edgeworth! Why didn't you just say so?" Tipping a nonexistent hat, Gumshoe grinned, "Thanks, sir! Have a good day, sir!" before disappearing (less than elegantly) in a swish of his ratty green cloak, nearly knocking over Miles' china tea-cup in the process.
The maroon prosecutor slumped back in his chair, watching detachedly as the paper of the case file fluttered in the slight breeze of the cool air conditioning. Dear God. He really needed a nap.
Detective Gumshoe smiled to himself as he passed through the sliding doors of the Prosecutor's Building. He didn't think he was making his giddiness all too obvious, but various people all around him were bestowing odd looks. Oh, well. Didn't matter what they thought, right now.
His initial plan – and he fancied it was a rather good one, at that – was to meander his way across the street, where he knew there was a modest little convenience store, and purchase Maggey a bouquet of flowers (white tulips, to be exact), and then walk to her apartment. He'd take a short-cut through People Park.
Completing the first part of his mission, a pleased grin still plastered to his face, Gumshoe approached the cashier-man behind the counter. His name-tag read Dave. "Hello," the man greeted pleasantly, taking the bunch of flowers from the detective's hand so that he could scan the bar-code on the plastic wrapping.
"Hey, pal," Gumshoe greeted, as per usual.
"For a lady friend?" Mr. Dave asked, engaging the other man in conversation.
"Yeah, pal," Gumshoe answered with an easy laugh, flushing and scratching the back of his neck (as per usual).
The cashier asked a couple of questions regarding Maggey, and Gumshoe answered without much hesitation before taking the flowers after paying and taking his leave.
People Park, he found, was quite nice this time of year. It wasn't an awfully big recreational area, but what was there showed its stuff brilliantly. Cherry blossom trees colored the green backwash with bright bursts of fuchsia, streaked with white. The paths were littered with the blossoms that had fallen, near neatly trimmed bushes and carefully pruned hedges. There seemed to be no one else in the park at the moment, which was just fine for the detective. Maggey's apartment shouldn't be far, now.
As he walked, he grinned down at the special flowers in his hand, hoping that Maggey would appreciate them (and his company). The air was a bit heavy from earlier rains, droplets of water still glistening on blades of grass. Silently, he thanked Prosecutor Edgeworth for giving him this time off. He knew the prosecutor was under a lot of stress right now; surprisingly, he also knew that the victim had been an old friend of Mr. Edgeworth's, like Mr. Wright was.
Funny, how they couldn't find much evidence to piece together. Not enough, anyway.
He turned a perfectly innocent-looking corner, his thoughts now back on his beautiful Maggey. His day, though a bit rough at the start (the detective had only gotten 5 hours of sleep last night), was sure to get better now. It was already great, and he wasn't even there yet. Perhaps he'd make Maggey some of his famous, home-made wieners that she seemed to like so much.
A single shot rang out, breaking the silence that had so captivated Gumshoe. It seemed suspiciously close, almost directly behind him. He whirled, quickly, prepared to draw his pistol, all in a single moment (so all of those training exercises he'd practiced with Badd held some worth, after all) –
When suddenly, an explosion of unbearable pain passed through his frontal lobe, causing him to drop the flowers and his eyes to roll back into his head –
And then, just… darkness.
"So have you already gotten your test results back, Ema?" Phoenix strolled next to her on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into his pockets.
She shook her head, her own hands preoccupied with fiddling with the strap of her satchel. "No, but they told me – the school, anyhow – that they'd mail me my results. It should be coming soon; next few weeks, maybe."
"All the way from England?" he inquired. "Why didn't they just have you wait there instead of paying for the air fare?"
She looked up at him and gave a wan smile. "I wanted to come home," she replied. "I practically begged them to let me come home. I wanted to see Lana, and you, and Mr. Edgeworth, of course…"
The former attorney flashed her a wolfish grin, knowing that the young science nut still harbored a huge crush on the prosecutor. At least now that she was more mature, she seemed less inclined to stalkerish tendencies. "So do you think you did well? On your exam?" he asked, not wanting to push his luck by teasing her about Edgeworth.
The teen nodded vigorously. "Of course I did. I studied every night for weeks." She frowned, contemplating. "I just hope it meets requirements. I don't see how it couldn't, but then, they never really did specify for scientific investigators…" she trailed off, troubled.
Seeing this, Phoenix scoffed, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you did fine," he assured her. "How couldn't you? You're pretty brilliant, kid."
She blushed and stared at the concrete under her feet as she walked. "H-hey, Mr. Wright?"
"Yeah, Ema?" He turned to her, brushing a hand across his spiked hair.
"Mr. Edgeworth seemed a little… out of it, the other day. Why?"
Phoenix visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing uncertainly. "W-well, see, Ema…" he coughed, unwilling to say. "He… see…" Sniffing, he rubbed his face with his large hands, trying to find the right words. "A couple of weeks ago… A good friend of ours… died. He-he was murdered." She gasped in horror. "You… you must remember Larry, right? If I remember correctly, he hit on you quite a few times when you came to visit." A wistful smile found its way to his lips, before disappearing quite suddenly. "S-so… Please, Ema… don't mention it to him. He's quite sore about it."
"I… oh…" A few moments passed in utmost silence. "I'm sorry," she murmured, unsure of anything else to say.
Phoenix simply nodded, and both continued their speechlessness as they walked side-by-side down the street, passing the People Park.
A gunshot, seemingly erupted from nowhere, blasted through the air behind them. Startled out of their wits, both of them whirled to face the direction simultaneously, eyes bulging out of their sockets. "W-was that a gun?" Ema whispered.
Swallowing again, harsher this time, Phoenix could only nod mutely, unable to speak. "It sounded like it came from the park," the girl continued fearfully, taking a step back.
"W-we should maybe check it out," the ex-attorney panted, and in a show of silent agreement, Ema wordlessly followed after Phoenix as he began sprinting to the entrance and bravely into the People Park. The paths twisted and wound around trees and shrubbery which, had it been any other circumstance, Ema would have stopped to admire.
She nearly ran into his back when he stopped suddenly, immobile from shock. Shaking her head while gasping for breath (she really wasn't as fit as Phoenix, considering he biked around town everywhere, daily). Glancing up at him, she found his eyes glazed over, and no breath at all circulated through his lungs. Following his gaze, her own green eyes slid downward, and she gasped again, loudly, and stumbled backwards a few steps.
It took a while to recognize what was in front of her. A dead body. A dead body. The eyes were rolled upward, showing only the whites and the threads of red veins that curled through it. A bunch of white flowers lay crushed on the ground, and small, neat hole in the very center of the forehead began to trickle fresh blood.
But there was no mistaking that coat.
Both of them could do nothing but stare blankly at the person – what used to be a person – that lay stiffly on the ground before them, marring the image of false serenity that was radiated off by the trees and their comforting shade of leaves.
Do you guys hate me yet? Heh...
I really enjoy writing Miles. It's so fun to mess around with all of the aspects of his complex personality and the snarky sarcasm that he possesses. I only wish I could've found a way to fit more of him into this chapter.
Ohhhh, Gumshoeee... I'm so sorryyyy...
I had tooo...
Please review! The more, the merrier (and the faster the chapters)!
See you next chapter~~
Tara