Title: Of Artistic Muses and Bashful Demises, or How Art Seductions and Seductive Artists Relate Themselves
Author: Heads, me; tails, the guy next to me. Oh, and the coin has only two heads. =p
Rating: PG-13; mild sexual allusions and references; artistic nudity
Genre: Romance, family
Status: Completed (one shot)
Pairing: HEAVY Phoenix/Maya
Summary: After 4-4, Phoenix lights again the flame of his old passion, the graphical arts. And in a bizarrely natural turn of events, he asks Maya to model for him. In her birthday suit.
Notes:
-Longest piece I've EVER written. Jesus Christ.
-Assumes Phoenix/Maya in a relationship for a good long while now.
-Gumshoe + Maggey = Marriage.
-Other stuff I can't remember right now.


Finally, he could breathe. The true culprit behind his disbarring had been put where he belonged, the misunderstanding around him had been cleared, and many loose ends around his life and his name had been, at long last, given closure. Yes, he could certainly finally breathe again.

But now, he seriously didn't know what to do.

It wasn't like he was unsure. No, far from that. It's rather that he honestly, truly, cross-my-heart had absolutely no idea what to do next.

Of course, taking the bar exam had always sounded enticing -- but that would take a while, since he'd have to go again over the study material and his old cases. Ditching the job at the Borscht Club wasn't really an option, since he had Trucy, and now Apollo as well, to take care of; and even though his young pupil shined as a defense attorney, not all the cases he took ended up producing considerable benefits for the firm. He'd been getting some extra income by providing background music at little Truce's special shows whenever he was off, having improved considerably his abilities at the piano, but what he was actually looking for was something that would elate him, something that would make him feel realized, something he enjoyed and at the same time had to work hard at. Since his days as an attorney had a long ways to go before coming back, he couldn't really think of anything, until he saw the young antennae-haired attorney going out for a date with his new artist girlfriend, and it suddenly dawned on him: to fall back upon the art that had lit his path back in the day.

Getting his art supplies back hadn't been a hard thing -- he had this otherwise bad, even slightly annoying habit of not liking to throw away stuff, so rummaging inside the little extra room he and his daughter had at home as a storage room (or general dumpster, as a certain crimson-clad young lawyer had grittily remarked) had been a particularly quick fruitful effort. Taking a random piece of paper laying around, he sketched a few lines, and was glad to discover that his old talent for this had remained as present as it ever was, one of the few things of himself he could actually brag about. So picking up a few essential supplies and smiling subtly to himself, he trod out of the house to find a comfortable spot for him to unload his energies on the canvas.


Later that week, on saturday afternoon, he had come back home very disheartened -- he had not been able to find a spot that caught his interest enough for him to try his artistic hand at reproducing it. The idea of expressing himself through art had been a highly seductive one, and yet there was nothing that set his artistic desires ablaze in town, which had been very downplaying, if not downright depressing.

Therefore, when the little top hat-wearing magician saw her beloved father enter the house with that long a face, her immediate concern was asking him what was wrong.

"Ah, it's nothing, Truce... Well, remember how I told you that before graduating from Law school, I was doing an art major at college...? Well, daddy wanted to try his hand again in art, but couldn't find a suitable place with a nice view for daddy to draw--"

"DADDY!!! You should have said so sooner!" pouted the young girl. "I was talking to Vera a few days ago when Polly brought her over, and she told me that when she's bored of environments and still life, a living model is the best thing to get your inspiration juices going on!"

"A living model, eh... So would you like to model for me, my dear daughter?", replied Phoenix with a chuckle.

"Na-ah, sorry, no can do today -- I promised Ema I'd meet up with her and Pearly, we're going to the movies toni--- HEY!" at such a sudden exclamation, Phoenix gave a start as he stared at his daughter. "Why don't you ask Mommy Maya? I heard she would have nothing to do today -- it's saturday, after all -- I'm sure she'd love to model for you!"

"As appealing as that idea sounds, Trucy, what have I told you regarding Maya?", admonished the ex-lawyer with a slight frown. Once again, the young performer pouted and recited with a monotone, almost robotic voice:

"'That even though you're going out she's not your wife yet so I shouldn't be calling her Mommy' -- there, happy? Anyways, I'm almost running late -- I'll be seeing you later, Daddy!"

The girl suddenly became a blue and black flash as, at top speed, she picked up her keys from the nearby table, approached her father to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek, and went out the door waving goodbye and yelling as she ran down the stairs, "We'll meet up with Polly and Vera on the way, so you don't need to wait up for me! I'll be fine!"

Completely nonplussed at this extraordinary display of haste, Phoenix blinked a few times, before finally hanging his head down in defeat, smiling to himself muttering something that sounded very like "kids these days", and pulling out his cellphone from his pocket. "Let's see... A, B, C... There, M..."


Parking her small sedan in front of the small apartment building, Maya dismounted the vehicle and headed towards Phoenix's place in the upper floors. When he opened the door, she couldn't resist the temptation and jumped on him, giving him a very tight hugh topped with a kiss on the lips that almost made him see stars. She was wearing a very nice silk dress that flowed smoothly down to her knees, in traditional Kurain purple tones, but with a rather more contemporary fashion approach. It suited her, and very much at that, doing a fine job of accentuating all her fantastic curves (which had developed quite a bit in these past years -- truly enough, she wasn't on Mia's league, to be perfectly honest, but the happily grinning Kurain Master had absolutely no reason to envy her older sister either). Maybe it was because they loved the feeling of each other, maybe it was because Maya was losing her footing, having to tiptoe to kiss and properly hug her boyfriend, but they stood there, arms locked, for what felt like half an hour before letting go and entering the house proper, engaged in animated, random chitchat.

It was ony after a few sodas and several bags of Snackoos (courtesy of Ema as a celebratory gift for Apollo's latest court victory) that Phoenix remembered why he had called his girlfriend in the first place.

"Right, Maya, well, as to why I called you to come by... Let me ask you something. Remember I told you how before getting into Law, I was an art major student?"

"Yeah, wasn't it during that time that you met Iris and her psychotic homicidal bitch of a sister?" Phoenix laughed at the smoothness with which Maya had let these expletives leave her lips -- 'goes to show, time DOES change people', he thought, amused.

"Yeah... Well, remember Apollo's girlfriend, Vera? She was involved with, you know, that case..."

"Yeah, the shy girl with beady eyes... She was pretty nice when I met her, although a bit extra jumpy."

"Well, you have to hand it to her, the overprotectiveness of her father, coupled with dealing with a guy like Kristoph, can do that to people..."

"Yeah, I guess that's right... So what's she gotta do with you having been an art major?"

"Well, she's an artist herself, and an amazing one at that... Seeing her works made me want to take art up again for a little bit... You know, cleanse my soul and all that."

The woman sitting beside him chuckled. "Nice excuse. But yeah, you always had a nice hand for drawing -- have I told you I have a collection of all the doodles you used to sketch on throwaway papers when you were bored?"

"You what?!" He cast an amused and disbelieving look at her, against which she merely laughed.

"I do, and quite proud of it, too... But that's besides the point, and still doesn't answer why exactly did you make me come here."

"Alright, I'm getting to that... Thing is, I walked through the most interesting spots in town, trying to get a nice-enough looking place to put on a canvas, and had to come back home sorely disappointed... And Truce suggested that instead of an environment, I should try drawing a living model---"

"---And lemme guess, you want me to model for you." Maya completed his sentence, stealing the words off the tip of his tongue. He smiled again -- that was one of the many things he loved in her, she was so emotionally close to him that she could practically read his mind without effort. "Well, I'd be honored to, oh great Phoenix," she added with mock solemnity, rewarding him with a kiss. "Do you think this dress is artistic enough for your next masterpiece, or do you want me to search through my drawers in your room to find something more appealing?"

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd rather do it... Au naturelle, as it were." Throughout this entire line, Phoenix had put a very serious, slightly worried face.

This had the effect of startling Maya, catching her entirely off-guard.

"What? Y-you mean... like... naked?"

"Yes." Each of the lines etched in his face showed not mockery, not lecherous desires, but seriousness and determination. She could detect the concern in his voice. She could feel he wasn't sure she'd agree, and was subtly showing that whatever her decision, he would be okay with it. 'So sweet. I still don't get how I can love this man so much and still want to kick his ass so hard sometimes.'

"Well..." He was still looking at her with a very grave expression. That was all she needed to know -- he was worried about HER worries. He cared. 'Man, what the hell. Sold.' "Alright, if you insist... But under one condition."

"Name it."

"We move to somewhere more private", was her spoken answer; her physical answer had been that of blushing to the whites of her eyes and smiling sheepishly. He sighed in relief, and answered her smile with a kiss and a smile of his own.

"Conceded."


Later that day, they had locked themselves up in the newly refurbished offices of Wright & Justice Talent and Law Services. Part of the decision to come here was that among the improvements, the lights had been thoroughly enhanced, since reading all those books printed in those tiny letters was a bit less tough on the eyes with lots of illumination in the room -- this would help Phoenix and his art project greatly.

Maya had excused herself to the restroom, armed with a fluffy bathrobe on her hands. 'It's funny', thought Phoenix with a small chuckle as he arranged the necessary materials and set the lighting correctly. 'We've been sleeping together for a few years now, and she's still embarrassed.' Picking up a small mahogany stool from the corner, he set it in a strategic place under the lights. It had been a gift from Edgeworth for his victory in the Hazakura case, and one of the few things he took thorough care of -- the efforts of polishing, oiling, and waxing it regularly had paid off: the dark wood shone brightly against the powerful lights, emanating an aura of peace and a calming smell. He had always liked the smell of mahogany -- it reminded him of a tropical forest. The design was very elegant, inspired in artistic inclinations of the Victorian era, and it was overall a small, but delicate, touch of class for the office. He nodded in approval at the result, and sat down a little ways from it, setting up his canvas, his paints and his mixing palette.

Meanwhile, Maya had stripped of all her clothes, which she had scooped and placed on the small bed inside the little bedroom hidden behind the main office (for those sleepless nights Phoenix, and her sister before him, had surely spent there, analyzing cases). She walked out of the bathroom covered only in her bathrobe, cheeks still deep red, and stood near the doorway to the back rooms of the office, flustered. When Phoenix finished setting his work materials up, he raised his head, and seeing his lovely woman, approached her and gave her an encouraging hug. Holding her hand, he pulled her lightly towards the stool, and gestured that she'd sit on it. Then, slowly, gently, he pulled the fluffy bathrobe by the shoulders and entirely off her beautiful body.

Maya was still flushed; thus, not only her face, but other parts of her body had a faint pink tinge to them. She was sweating. Trembling. Tension. Nerves. Anxiety. Bashfulness. And why not admit it, arousal. It was quite the mix of sensations and emotions. Phoenix had a small towel hanging from his shoulder, and he started tracing Maya's form with it, drying the salty water beads that covered her body with the utmost care, in the ultimate delicate gesture. The smooth fabric of the towel made Maya feel shivers down her spine, being handled by overly soft, loving hands, in slow, deliberate, methodical motions. Her legs. Her thighs. Her hips. Her back. Her arms. Her breasts. He slid the fluffy material over her pearly-white skin slowly, gently. As his hands neared her neckline, Maya could not fight the temptation anymore and slowly kissed the calloused hands that were now drying her shoulders -- she noticed a faint smell of cherry perfume, her favorite fragrance, and an almost unnoticeable smile grazed her lips -- she could always count on him to remember the small details. Slowly, she pulled his hands towards her back, positioning herself between his arms, into a hug that was rewarded with their lips finding each other, exploring, discovering, sending each other to the very gates of heaven as their tongues intertwined and caressed each other.

The excitement was rising. Their hands locked at each other's hair, each other's back, each other's shoulders, caressing, ruffling, feeling the heat of their bodies. Finally, parting their lips slowly, reveling in the sensation, they opened their eyes, smiling sweetly and giving each other a loving look. Disentangling their arms, Phoenix produced a bedsheet and a small life-size doll of a newborn baby apparently out of nowhere (her immediate thought was 'seems some of Trucy's magic is rubbing off on him!'); throwing the fabric over Maya, he gave her the doll and instructed her in whispers to her ear how she should carry it, which made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up; afterward, he draped the sheet over her and the doll in a rather stylish, artistically "random" way; the strategic positioning of the bedcloth, combined with the doll, allowed for her private parts to remain hidden from view, while still making it plainly clear and obvious that she was entirely in the nude. He gave his work an appraising, critical look, resulting in Maya blushing even deeper; finally, he nodded his approval to himself, and smiling at the gorgeous raven-haired woman before him, he closed in on her face to give her one final heartfelt kiss before setting himself to work.

It came as no surprise to her that her man, now sitting a few feet away from her behind a painting canvas, was as dedicated to his art as he was to his daughter, as he was to her, and as he had been to his previous profession of being an attorney. Without moving a muscle, wearing an enigmatic half-smile, she watched him frown in concentration, setting his gaze upon her for prolonged periods of time, before going back to attack the canvas with a kind of controlled fury, a weird calculated violence that left clear strokes of pink upon white, grazed then with yellow, retouched with white, all to achieve the exact mix of shades that would produce the static equivalent of her skin color. Slowly but consistently, he switched the colors in his palette; at first, it was light colors, to set the bases; mid-tones followed, to define the shapes and the environment; dark shades culminated the sequence to color shadows, dark elements, and to provide the missing element to the picture, as there cannot be light without darkness, and shadows cannot exist without the bright sources that cast them.

For several hours she sat there, watching, entranced, how her beloved Phoenix repeatedly struck the painting canvas before his eyes, each stroke with a strong sense of determination and finality. Again, and again, and again, and again, his experienced hand floated between the increasingly colored cloth and the ever-changing palette held by his other hand, only taking a breather to look at her with hungry eyes, as if trying to devour her and etch the very image of her being in the eyes of his mind, or to quickly change the component colors in his palette, continuing to define and shape the next elements in the piece. The air conditioner was on to a temperature Maya had deemed comfortable in her lack of clothing, and yet, his brows frowned in concentration, his forehead kept producing droplets of sweat, which he'd wipe with a lazy, almost exasperated swipe of his sleeve.

Finally, after a few light touches, he stepped back. After a grave look at the results of his endeavor, he broke into a satisfied smile, and walking towards the now grinning woman, he picked up the discarded bathrobe, took the bedsheets off her, cast the lifelike doll aside on a desk, and dressed her in the fluffy cloth almost with reverence, before taking her hand ceremoniously and guiding her towards the seat he had just vacated. When she gazed upon the completed creation, tears escaped her eyes in emotion. Before her lay the most accurate and beautiful portrait she had ever seen of anyone, so vivid, so intense, she felt it was about to spring to life and start talking to them, while her very own Michael Angelo stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, a proud smile adorning his lips. She stood up in a hurry and threw herself in his arms, in turn crashing with the wall behind them, and they both laughed at the sudden winces of pain; him from his back, her from her hands.

After their laughter subsided, Maya raised her eyes to look deep into those deep, dark eyes she loved so much, tears still falling from her own, and said in a broken whisper,

"It's absolutely beautiful. Thank you, Nick."

"It is. But that's because it was you. Had it been not, it would not have come out this perfectly." She grinned at the remark.

"Hurr hurr, very poetical, Mr. Casanova", and his lips twitched into a full-blown grin at her sarcasm. Remembering something, she continued on, this time with a rather sultry, seductive voice, "You know, Nick... While you were sitting there, looking at me with that serious face and stuff, I couldn't help but feel like you were almost eating my soul with your eyes... It made me feel, you know...", she winked at him sporting a devilish smirk, "strange... bothered all over..."

"Oh?", was his reply, which had sprouted from a pair of twisted lips wearing an even more enigmatic smile than her own, accusing a tone of mock concern. "Is that so? Hmm... I guess we shouldn't let those strange feelings linger, it's probably bad for your health..."

These words were all the signal she needed to let out a small giggle and crush his lips on hers in a passionate, deep, long kiss, a kiss so electrifying, it had caused both of their hands to gain lives of their own, caressing, touching, kneading, scratching, and removing layers upon layers of clothing. Stumbling, never breaking their kiss, they headed towards the hidden bedroom, and letting loose their desires, they lost themselves in each other's warmth, and it was blissful oblivion, their touch, their breaths, their eyes, never looking anywhere but into each other's; and it was long, very, very long, before they noticed the sun had risen up and was shining through the small cracks in the curtains over the window, at which point they cuddled in each other's arms and drifted peacefully to sleep.


"Oh. My. God. Daddy..."

"So you like it?"

"Like it? This... This is unbelievable, Daddy! This is nothing short of gorgeous!"

Murmurs of amazed assentment spread through his living room. He had called all his old and new close acquaintances for a family-reunion-like gathering to showcase his latest masterpiece, and had managed to get Ema, Apollo and Vera, Pearl, Prosecutor Klavier Gavin (against whom Ema kept shooting dark, meaningful glances muttering something unintelligible that sounded remarkably like "glimmerous fop"), old Gumshoe and his wife Maggey, and even Edgeworth (who had made a wry and witty comment about recognizing his old present in the picture, to general amusement) and Franziska (who had admitted, much to her chagrin, that she could not honestly believe such an absolutely divine piece could have been brought to life by the hands of that foolish fool Phoenix Wright) had managed to show up. All that was missing for him to feel completely happy was just walking up the stairs (as the sounds grew closer, his feeling of happiness grew bigger inside of him), and knocking the door before long. Pearl, suspecting who it was, ran to open.

And sure enough, mutually stifled cries and calls of "Maya!" and "Ms. Fey!" were heard as she entered the room, but a gigantic scream of "MOMMY!!!!" overcame them all, and before anybody had had enough time to register what they'd heard, Trucy was swinging in Maya's arms, the two girls laughing and hugging each other tightly. Phoenix frowned slightly, and with a light inflection of his voice that indicated a trace of annoyance, he said,

"Trucyyy..."

"Yeah, yeah, Daddy, I shouldn't be calling her Mommy---"

"---And why the hell not, if I may ask, my dear Picasso?" interrupted Maya, an amused questioning look in her eyes as her gaze met Phoenix's. Before such a sudden and obviously unexpected reaction, he faltered a bit in his answer, provoking knowing grins from Edgeworth, Franziska and Pearl.

"Well, because although we're going out, we haven't... you know..." And the more his voice trailed off and the further down and away he'd cast his eyes, the more amused Maya'd look. Addressing Trucy, she smiled and said,

"Tell ya what, Truce: as of today on, you are officially hereby REQUIRED to call me Mommy, or I stop dating your dad." These words made Phoenix dart his head towards Maya in fear, only to see her smirk in a way that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud. "You wouldn't want that, right Trucy?" Maya winked at the young girl, who grinned in turn, causing the older woman to reach down to plant a loving kiss on the youngster's forehead.

"Of course not!" Trucy hugged Maya tighter, and low tittering and stifled giggles were beginning to surface among the people present. This could only alarm Phoenix further, and to this effect he was looking everywhere for support. Without much luck.

"And I KNOW for a fact that you, Nick, are -- er... 'satisfied'... enough" Maya emphasized the words very clearly with quote signs from her hands, throwing the guests into another fit of almost silent giggles, "with how things are, at least for the time being, so I doubt very much that you want us to stop seeing each other", Maya pressed on, grinning wider with each word, "so it's decided. Everyone, I hereby officially declare myself Trucy's new Mommy! Raise your hands those of you who vote in favor of the motion!"

Almost immediately, one, two, a bunch of hands went up, to Phoenix's utter disbelief.

"Alright, motion passed! Now Trucy, what do you call me again?", asked the black-haired older girl, while making hand signs to everyone to chorus with the young magician.

And to poor Phoenix's complete bemusement, everyone in the room, his daughter and even Franziska and Edgeworth included, all sporting identical ear-to-ear grins, yelled at the same time...

"MOMMY...!!!"

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Wow. You're really good. Congrats. I love it. Nick/Maya ftw!!

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