Ah, these pretty little sections. In other words, this is me explaining my own plot to myself. Ya dig? Achtung - let's hit it.

1. I don't know why I mentioned Larry. I mean, for serious. He was just convenient in the places I put him. And a few lulz never hurt I suppose.

2. Hah! You thought Phoenix was gonna drink himself silly! Not the case dearies, not the case.

3. Mr. Marydent and Ms. Ulmen are totally pun names. Specifically these: Mr. Axel A. (Allan) Marydent is Accidental Marriage. Ms. Ann Ulmen is Annulment.

4. Aw, I felt bad for Maya ._. Not extremely hinted at in earlier chapters, but she's a young teenage girl. She finds out she's married, gets excited, and gets shot down. Emotional roller coaster, ev'rbody put 'ch hands up~

5. Another pun name! Eric Busey: Abuse. Eric was just sort of completely random.

Maya's Examination

Tenderness of limbs
Stress fracture of left hand, minor

Phoenix's Examination

Severe bruising
Blunt trauma to the head and body

Attorney's Badge

My Attorney's badge. Was missing from my lapel the morning after the assault. Maya found it in the blankets clipped to an elastic.

Ceremony Photo 1

The first was of the two of them entering the building. There was a thumb over the corner, obscuring a group of three, what looked like men, all in dress slacks. A set of couples sat on a bench, unobstructed, on the opposite side, looking caught up in the moment, and caught up in each other - and each others partners. Miles himself obscured that with his own thumb. He was left with the middle of the picture: A tall man in blue, hair spiked backward. His tie was loose, slung over his shoulder, and an unlabeled bottle was in his hand. A little raven-headed woman stood next to him, her hair a little tousled, violet jacket hanging off her shoulders. Her geta sandals were tucked into her sash. She was beaming at the camera, apparently smiling at whoever was holding it at the time. The man in blue was looking off to the side, his expression not really visible. Miles took comfort that they indeed looked rather inebriated - plus Phoenix seemed to have ganked a bottle from the party, clutching it by the neck with a fist in his right hand. An even stronger case looked possible.

Ceremony Photo 2

The next picture... a thumb still covered the lens, hiding a few faces. This... 'Annette' wasn't a very good photographer. The aisles were still littered with people lost in the individuals next to them, but all Miles could focus on was the blue and violet blotch in the middle of the photo. The only ones that weren't tangled up. But... wait, this was odd. Phoenix wasn't wearing blue. His jacket was gone - and around the shoulders of the young medium, Maya. Her own jacket was... Miles raised a brow. It was sticking out of the back of Phoenix's pants - it didn't seem it was there in a suggestive way; it looked reminiscent of someone tying a jacket around their waist, however Maya's sleeves were much too short to fit a grown man's waist. Miles was scribbling down these notes, lost in his own thoughts. He had to be lost in something; the pose they stood in troubled him too much to focus on - their lips were inches apart. The photo was taken from behind Maya.

Ceremony Picture 3

And the final picture. They stood back at the doorway, that blasted thumb covering a corner. Nobody was behind it this time, however. Nothing really was special about it. Phoenix stood in his white shirt, his tie still slung over his shoulder, Maya stood beside him, all smiles, in the blue suit jacket. Phoenix's face was less than pleasant, his eyes shifted to the side again, a fake smile plastered on his face. He looked... clear. Present.

Ann Ulmen's Clipboard

Couple entered: 1AM
Names taken: Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey.
Ceremony chosen: Standard
Music selected: Space Cowboy
Ring Category: Makeshift
Couple left: 2AM

They were all in a state of panic. They'd turned around for a mere moment, and Wright was missing. Gone. His little shadow, Maya, was missing as well - there were no traces of either of them. Gumshoe had been on his second or third drink, Franziska was in the bathroom, and Miles Edgeworth was in the middle of explaining to an extremely drunk lawyer why giving alcohol to a minor was a horrible idea.

Gumshoe had fumbled his glass, knocking it across the table, the liquid dripping off the surface's edge, down the back of Edgeworth's crisp white shirt. He wheeled around, with an absolutely livid look on his face - and after cutting his salary by a few dollars, wheeled back around to lecture Phoenix a little more - but he was gone. Just gone. He'd had a few drinks himself, and with the rational side of his mind in a haze:

He panicked.

Her head was an absolute mess. She laid there for a moment, just letting the fog in her head stop swirling long enough so she could see where she was. She shifted her legs, stiff material bunching behind her knees. Huh. The room was getting brighter and brighter as her fog lifted slowly, and she slung a stiff arm up to her forehead, her dark black bangs getting pushed aside by the long sleeves on the limb. She... she really couldn't remember much of anything from the night before, it was all a big glitzy blur - lots of lights, loud music - she was pretty sure she could taste glitter in her mouth. She blamed it on the haze. Now for the next problem... Where was she now?

It didn't look like Phoenix's apartment. She propped herself up on an elbow, surveying. She repeated two things in her head: My name is Maya, two plus two equals four, as she wracked her brain trying to retrace her steps. She really really couldn't remember anything past Mr. Edgeworth yelling at Nick not to give her any of what he was drinkin-...

NICK!

Where was he!? She did remember leaving with him, now that she thought about it! She felt around on her person for her phone, not finding it anywhere. That made her even more jumpy. She sat up fully on the bed, and froze. She looked down. She was clad in a big blue twill blanket... huh, that was odd - wait, no, it wasn't a blanket...

"...Why am I wearing Nick's suit...?" She opened the suit jacket gingerly, discovering that she was indeed wearing her acolyte's uniform, just the violet jacket was missing. She reached into her belt, fishing for her phone - and indeed, it was there. She fumbled with the buttons for a few seconds, trying to coax her motor skills to work the speed dial. She pressed down the 1 button and held it.

The call came from inside the house. She nearly jumped off of what she discovered was a bed as the ringing came from off the floor. She crawled across, and peeked over the edge of the bed - and sure enough, Phoenix lay there, either sleeping very soundly or he was dead. Maya really hoped it was that he was just sleeping. She so didn't need another murder charge - and plus, how would Nick get her out of it if he was dead? She reached down and poked his nose.

He twitched. Awesome, he wasn't dead. But the issue now, waking him up.

She reached down to poke again, the light touch causing his eyelids to flutter open. She dangled an arm down the side of the bed, an idle finger wag sufficing for a hello. Phoenix groaned loudly, like someone had hit him with a truck. Which to be fair, he looked like someone had hit him with a truck.

"Hey Nick. Where are we?"

"...Augh, huh? What do you mean where, we should be still in my apart-..." He behaved much the same way as Maya did as she awoke, propping himself up and surveying the area. "...ment."

"Yeah, see, I told you, we're not anywhere even remotely familiar." She blinked down; Phoenix was already clicking away on his phone, searching through his phone book.

"Um, you don't have him on speed dial?"

"Huh?" It clicked suddenly. "Oh! Speed dial, duh..." He backed out of the phone book, holding the 2 key down. He opened his mouth to speak as soon as the line opened, but he all but flung the phone across the room as soon as the audible screaming voice of Miles Edgeworth came across the line.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" The voice boomed so loud, Phoenix didn't even need to have it anywhere near his ear to hear it.

"Um, we don't know."

"We?" The tone quieted, and Phoenix rested the phone against his ear again.

"Yeah, we. I'm with Maya."

"Oh. Yes, well, I quite assumed you'd be with her. We can cancel that search then." Edgeworth paused a moment, then said with a curious, quiet edged tone. "What do you mean you don't know where you are?"

Phoenix shrugged, speaking over the phone with his hands. "I just don't know. Maya just woke me up, I was asleep on the floor."

"Well, a gentleman lets the lady have the bed."

"Hah hah, you're funny. Moving on."

"Right so. Moving on," Edgeworth sighed. "You go somewhere private. We need to talk." Phoenix sighed and did as much, excusing himself to Maya and walking into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door, and closed the toilet lid, sitting down.

"Alright, privacy achieved, what do we need to speak of so desperately?"

"Why did you run out like that?"

A heavy sigh, "You really think I remember? I was out of my gourd, I barely remember being in my apartment at all last night."

"I was telling you it was idiotic to give Maya anything alcoholic."

"..." Phoenix thought for a moment. And that memory clicked, "Oh yeeeaaah, I remember that. But really, honestly, I didn't see it as a bad idea! At least I didn't shove her off to a bar alone on her 21st! That's what would have been irresponsible."

"Well, what you did was less than responsible, but I... suppose I see your reasoning. I still find it idiotic though."

"Tch, I don't care if you find it idiotic."

"...What?"

"I'm serious. I have a brain of my own, I can make my own decisions," The voice on the other end started to talk, but he cut it off. "And I don't need someone telling me they're idiotic; I'm a grown man and I can decide for myself if I'm doing stupid things or not!"

He didn't realize he had been shouting at that point. He sighed, laboredly, pulling his tie out of the buttons of his shirt, and wiping his forehead. He was hot and tired. And quite honestly felt puking his guts out. Having a hangover, plus Edgeworth roaring at him from the other end of a phone didn't a good morning make.

"You sound horrible, Phoenix." The voice came in a whisper.

"I... I feel horrible. If I find out where we are, can you come get us?"

"I'm supposed to say no?" A tender edge suddenly sliced through Edgeworth's voice. "Go look out the window and tell me what's out there. We'll find you."

Phoenix muttered something grateful, and wandered out into the room, peeking out of the drawn blinds. A motel sign stared him in the face, as did a busy highway. A few fast food places littered the strip along it, and a small toy store sat on the intersection. Repeating the observations into the phone, a sudden, deep and rough I know that place, Pal!! came from what sounded to the side of the phone.

A sharp shout of agony came from three other voices in the car, one by the phone(Miles, of course), one shrill, feminine one from the back, and a second, shrill, feminine one from the back, further to the side of the last. Phoenix took a stab; it was Larry. A chorus of get this loosey-goosey wishy-washy fool off of me! confirmed that. The attorney laughed, and groaned at the same time. Being upright was making his body fall apart faster.

"Sorry Wright, the detective merged over a median. Franziska about had a heart attack," The voice faded as it turned from the receiver, "And she took it out on Larry."

"I gathered," He nodded, "So you guys know where we are now?"

"Yes, Detective Gumshoe was rather certain of where you were at, so we're going to leave that up to him."

"Sounds good. Then I'll see you when you all get here?"

There was an uncomfortable silence; like neither of them knew what to say; or knew what they wanted to say - but couldn't.

"...Yes, We'll be seeing you."

The line clicked dead.

"Nick?"

Phoenix turned around, looking at Maya in earnest now. He quirked his head at her. "Why are you wearing my jacket?"

She shrugged, the lone pearl in her side locks bouncing against her upper arm, "I sort of woke up in a complete mess."

"I can tell," He watched as she offered him his jacket back. He took it, slinging it around his shoulders, thrusting his arms through the sleeves. Awesome, he felt like an attorney again. But wait - He felt his lapel. His badge was gone. "M... Maya! My badge! It's gone!"

"Huh? No it's not," She blinked up innocently, the elusive badge turning in her fingers. "I found it on the bed. It was clipped onto one of my rubber bands from my hair." She slid the missing pearl back into her hair, and tied it off with the little clear band. "There we go, good as new!" She beamed a smile at Phoenix. He shot one back, albeit a little bit of a green one. "So they're coming to get us, right?"

"Yeah, Edgeworth said that Gumshoe knew where we were."

"Ah, okay," She fished for her sandals on the floor, heaving herself off the bed while she looked. She wobbled a bit, but otherwise looked rather chipper and healthy.

"Maya, that's not even fair. I'm not that much older than you and I've got the hangover from Hades?"

"Huh?"

"That's the first time you've drank and you didn't even skip a beat the next morning. That's unfair."

"...Who ever said I hadn't drank anything before?" She blinked once, bewildered at the thought that she hadn't. "It's used quite a lot in rituals and celebrations at home..."

No, no, of course. He should have been expecting something like that. He sighed heavily, leaning up against the wall. Ugh, he was pretty sure this wasn't just hangover anymore. His head was throbbing and his stomach was churning, but it usually didn't hurt this bad. He straightened up, raking a hand through his hair, the other hand rubbing into his eyes. "We should probably walk on down to the lobby, this is pretty high up. We wouldn't want them to walk all this way."

"Walk? I'm sure there's an elevato-..." She paused, realization crossing her features. "Yeeahh we should probably go on down."

Phoenix started walking towards the door, but groaned and faltered down somewhere around the bed.

"Niiick!" Maya pouted at him, slinging his arm up around her neck. "Here, I'll get you downstairs. Once everyone's here we'll get you some medicine or something, 'Kay?"

"Y... yeah. That'd be great. A few ibuprofen, a bottle of Coldkiller X... maybe a vial of morphine... You know how amazing that sounds?"

Maya giggled. "You just need some sleep and a soft bed. You slept on a motel floor, that can't be good for any part of you."

Phoenix groaned. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

She hobbled with Phoenix all the way to the elevator, with the attorney being a gentleman and pressing the lobby button all by his lonesome. She clapped and said look at the big boy pressing buttons all on his own! to which he promptly inner monolouged spite daggers flying at her head. He outwardly smiled.

As they exited the elevator, Miles stood there, alone, looking at the stairs. As the door opened, a faint trickle of extreme concern flooded his face, before his mask was carefully replaced, and he trotted briskly up to Maya and the incapacitated Phoenix.

"What happened?" He hid the frantic fringe in his voice rather well, but Phoenix identified it and quickly interjected, to avoid Maya exaggerating and blowing the prosecutor's panic into maximum overdrive.

"I was sleeping on the floor all night, I think I may have something out of whack. I feel like I fell out of a building."

"Knowing Nick, he may have," Maya added in a sly undertone. Phoenix took a much enjoyed liberty of having his arm around her neck and attempted to strangle her. But his elbow couldn't quite wrap around her neck.

"Ah, I see." Miles' tone was calmer now, and he motioned to Maya as if to say he'd take Phoenix off her hands. She obliged, ducking under the two men's arms, rubbing her neck as soon as she was free. Apparently his attempted strangling succeeded in making her neck itch. Victory was Phoenix's. They all walked out the automatic door, meeting a ecstatic Gumshoe, a rather despondent Franziska, and a frantically sobbing Larry.

"Pal! We thought we'd lost track of you!" Gumshoe beamed at Phoenix, raising a hand high as soon as he was within range. Phoenix's eyes widened, as did Miles'. They both ducked as Gumshoe's giant hand flew down for a 'pat' on Phoenix's back. It luckily missed. The look on the detective's face read defeat.

"Gu... Gumshoe, can I ask a no physical contact favor of you?" Phoenix stuttered over his words, residual panic oozing over them. "If this hangover isn't killing me yet, you just might."

The detective brightened immediately, simply opening the car door for both the men. Maya too. They all piled into Edgeworth's car, surprisingly roomy enough for the band of six... well, only because Maya was sentenced to sit on Gumshoe's lap in the middle seat. Phoenix and Edgeworth sat in the front, while Franziska and Larry sat in the back on either side like bickering children.

Phoenix sank into the leather seat, a small sigh slipping through his lips. Edgeworth's glance shifted to him, but slid right back to the road. The attorney glazed over, just breathing. It was starting to be all he could do. Every bone of his body hurt and he had no idea why. He closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of his breath - trying desperately to ignore the pain. He started slipping off out of consciousness, glancing over to Miles with hazy, sleep covered eyes as his voice sounded further and further away. He was trying to say something... but Phoenix couldn't keep himself captive enough to hear it. His head dropped to the side, resting on the frame of the car door.

Ugh, not even asleep did he get a break. All he could see was lights, sounds, and this strange... taste? - he thought it was a taste - of glitter. Could you taste glitter? His head was crammed with too many emotions, pure, raging hate, nervousness, feeling like he wanted to run away. He felt cold. Was it rain? No, not rain - well, he wasn't sure. Really all he knew was that he was dreaming. There was no imagery. It was all feelings. And then... wait, what? Panic? His heart was racing. He felt like he was underwater. It was clammy. He was cold. He couldn't breathe and couldn't make sense of what was going on anymore. Panic started to close in on him like a coffin lid; the sensation of water flooding his lungs overwhelmed him, as he broke out in a cold sweat.

It hurt. His muscles were on fire. Hot fire. Voices started to tug at the corners of his consciousness, as the fire burned into the fiber of his skin. Pressure reigned hard on the inside of his head, his stomach felt like a sea during a storm. The voices were louder; the panic started to rise again - more voices, one ringing louder than the others - there was a current in the water that threatened to suffocate him, pushing him back and forth, almost shaking him, bringing the voices closer and closer. The pressure was lifting, his body feeling lighter, until finally his consciousness snapped the surface of the lucidity.

"PHOENIX!"

He flung himself upwards with a sudden intake of air.

"...!" Miles backpedaled, narrowly missing the attorney's sudden fling. "...Wright!"

Phoenix heaved. His breath was heavy. His eyes were wild. He shot a glance up at Miles, the sheer terror in his eyes clearer than glass.

"Hey, hey..." Miles' face twisted into a grimace of worry, bringing a hand up to Phoenix's face, smoothing out his eyebrow with a thumb. Panic was still the primary emotion on his face as Phoenix simply tried to breathe. "Shh. You're going to hyperventilate."

Phoenix breathed in once, deeply, holding it. His face was tight, his muscles coiled. He exhaled, imagining the panic flowing out. He steadied his breath, wincing deeply as his abdomen cramped together. "Miles, that... I... scary..." Steady breaths, he told himself.

"Steady breaths, Phoenix, please..." Miles said, echoing his thoughts. One more deep breath.

"That... was terrifying..." He breathed the words.

"I could tell. You'd been moaning since you fell asleep in the car."

"...Car?" Phoenix remembered falling asleep, but he wasn't in the car anymore?

"Everyone else went home. I told them I'd take you home with me and make sure you were okay. I thought I'd let you sleep first... I gather that wasn't the best course of action."

The hollow feeling in his chest had started to go away. His breath started to even out, as Miles circled around him, sitting down by his head on what he now assumed was a couch. The prosecutor tugged on the defense as an invitation to sit his head on his lap. A welcome invitation, at that. The pressure ebbed away, the fear of drowning, the coffin lid faded from memory. But the feeling of panic; the frantic feeling he was struck with didn't quite die down. Nor did his pains.

Miles watched Phoenix's face carefully. He had a light hand sitting on his chest, and with the slightest pressure, Phoenix's face would twist into something he could only describe as pain. With a delicate finger placed on the attorney's lips in case of protest, Miles carefully untied the reddish pink silk tie around his neck. He slowly unbuttoned the white dress shirt, stopping as his suspicions were confirmed. Not that he wanted them to be.

Bruises bloomed under his clothing. Not covering his body; some stretch of skin was spared. But what bruising there was, it just looked black.

"Come on now, Phoenix, you need to get this shirt off, all right? You've apparently had another stroke of luck and you should be dead, I see."

"Miles I... don't remember anything from last night... what'd I do that I got this bruised up?"

Edgeworth busied himself with unbuttoning Phoenix's dress shirt the rest of the way, tossing his jacket and the shirt off to the side of the couch. He inspected the bruises in an almost businessman like fashion, considering possibly the angle, or maybe even if a human made them or not. Phoenix's shoulders slumped forward, too heavy from the ordeal to support correctly anymore.

"You need to be more careful - these look like marks from a railing. Like you rammed into one, possibly." A stern glare fell into Edgeworth's features. "You shouldn't drink. Honestly, it only gets you into trouble."

Phoenix's mouth fell open. He was bruised, battered, and sick, and all Miles could do was lecture him. There was a flash. This was familiar.

"You realize how completely idiotic giving alcohol to her was?"

"Miles. I told you on the phone," He spoke through grated teeth, "I'm a grown man. I can make my own decisions. If they happen to be bad ones, oh well. You can't protect me at every turn."

"That... that doesn't mean I won't try," Miles' face turned sour. "I just feel like... someday you'll do something... and you'll need me and I won't be able to fix it."

"Why would I need you to fix it? Like I said, I'm an adult. I can clean up my own messes."

"..." Miles paused. That honest face. Those blue eyes that couldn't possibly tell a lie. Those bruises, his shortcomings, everything about him made him... Phoenix. "Heh... I know you can."

Miles reached across the couch, his arms wrapping around the back of Phoenix's neck. He found a spot that wasn't coated in blooming purple, and rested his chin. "But you realize, that there's always this extra sense I have that compels me to protect you. You have one for me as well, I know you do. I don't nitpick and try and fix things without good reason."

"...Yeah, I know." Phoenix was mostly distracted at this point, the pain easing as his mind was prevented from obsessing over it. "May I hear that reason, Sir Prosecutor?"

"Why most certainly. I happen to be quite fond of you, Mr. Attorney. Dare I say, I might even lov-"

"AAAAUGHHhhh..." Phoenix groaned deeply, doubling over out of Miles' arms. Miles' hands fluttered over his back, wondering what he could have possibly done wrong. He pulled him back to lay in his lap again, brushing back stray hairs while he grimaced to a pain that sourced from the unknown.

"Shh. I... I imagine you need more sleep. Just relax - for me, all right?"

A light moan. Edgeworth idly scratched his fingers into the black mat of spikes, as he nodded off to sleep as well.

"Niiiiick~"

Ugh, would it end? She kept singsonging. And worse, every so often she would actually sing. The horrible little imp girl would sing, ruthelessly, tonelessly, and off key. She was doing it on purpose! Phoenix stewed in utter hatred. He just wished she'd stop. But he tried yelling at her, throwing things at her, just everything short of just simply punching her in the face. But she just kept doing it.

"NIIIICK~! I know why you care so muuuuch~" The worst grin crept to her face as Phoenix wheeled around, his eyes wide. "Niiiiickyy and Edgeyyyy sittin' in a tree~" She chanted, skipping along behind Phoenix, a wobble in her enebriated step.

Phoenix paled.

"No! NO! I don't! You have no evidence and you can't prove it! I don't love him! He's a pompous jerk who only thinks about himself! THAT'S. ALL." Phoenix's face turned red, as Maya did nothing but smile her insidious grin. "I DON'T!"

"I can't prove iiiiit~" She clapped her hands together, nodding quickly. "But from that display~ youuuu have to prove me wroooong~"

---

Mmm - The room was bright. The images were getting hazy. Maya's warbles were fading from his memory. His eyes slid open slowly, looking straight above him at the high ceiling. A waterfall of silver was blocking his view of what he really wanted to look at, however. Miles twitched in his sleep, and Phoenix chuckled and smiled. His bruised ribs screamed, but the sheer physical pain of yesterday was mostly gone. He lifted an arm, brushing the curtain of bangs out of the way, sitting up slowly to get a better vantage point. Miles sighed softly, and Phoenix, well, sort of melted. Twitching a finger behind the prosecutor's ear, he closed in. Just a little peck, just a tiny one before he wakes up... he closed in to his lips and connected, lighter than a butterfly wing.

A hand cradled his chin almost instantaneously. Phoenix drew back, startled, staring Miles in the face. His eyes were open, his mouth tense with restrained laughter.

"Aw, that wasn't even fair - you were awake the whole time!" Phoenix pursed his lips, in a little faux pout. A deep laugh responded to the pout.

"No, no - I was only awake to see you swoon and laugh at my fake twitch." Miles reached behind Phoenix's back, pulling him into his chest. "You seem to be better though. Nausea gone?"

A nod in response. "Yeah, mostly... don't move my head around too much, that didn't help what was left of it." Phoenix made a face, squeezing his eyes shut with a roll to relieve the pressure behind them.

"Maybe we should make something to eat. If you'd be so kind as to remove yourself from me, I'd be glad to fill the role of a cook." Phoenix smiled widely, pushing himself up off the prosecutor, trotting over to retrieve his shirt and jacket. He rose, pausing a moment to shoot a confused glance at a piece of paper that slid from his suit pocket.

---

She... she knew she had told them she would take the train back to Kurain. She sat on the bench, scraping the soles of her sandals against the hard concrete of the train platform, watching the seventh or eighth train home pull out of the station. Maya was just worried, you know? She leaned her head to the side, then to the other, trying to figure out what to do. She could just call Phoenix. She doubted she'd get yelled at a whole lot, but still, she wasn't thrilled about the option. She could call Edgewor-... Nah, that would get her yelled at worse.

She moped. Maybe if she called Gumshoe, or even Larry, they would keep her company. Psh, she didn't even have her jacket! It was cold! She stood up, a determined look on her face. She'd call Franziska! They'd have a girls' night out! They'd go... and uh... oh yeah. She had nothing in common with Franziska other than the fact that teasing Nick was funny. She flopped back down.

Maybe Sis would have known what to do. But it was hard to talk to her when you were unconscious when she was around... Maya heaved a sigh. It look like she might as well go home - or she could go to Phoenix's apartment... she weighed her options for a few minutes.

She decided to go to the apartment. It was a much better place to pass the time, since Nick had all those DVDs that she'd told him to buy for her. She pushed herself up off the bench again, setting off with a spring in her step. She stopped short.

"*sneeze*" She sniffed loudly, looking back behind her and around the station. Oh good, no one saw.

---

The skillet had hit the floor. Edgeworth's face was truly blank - indescribable - the only emotions you could describe it as was pure and utter shock. Revoltion. Disgust. He looked down at the crumpled mass in front of him, the horror staining his face. "You... you what?" He spat the words.

Phoenix's mouth moved, but nothing came out. His breath hitched. His vision blurred. He kept moving his lips, trying to force words to form. A wild, feral, harrowing glance met Miles' eyes. He couldn't coax the words out. The paper in his hands was crumpled, the folds more reminiscent of leather than paper.

"Breathe." Edgeworth's voice was hard. "What ever you mess up, we can fix. Just breathe and tell me what you did."

His mouth slowly started working. His vision was still cloudy, his breathing sporadic; but his mouth started working. "I... married... Maya..."

Miles did not speak. He could not speak. He couldn't even move.

"I didn't..." Phoenix's voice was strangled, tiny. "I didn't mean..."

Silence.

"...Please."

Miles' mouth worked independent of his brain, as his body lost control of it's actions. A swift kick sent the skillet on the floor whizzing by Phoenix's ear.

"You're a grown damn man. You can fix your own damn messes."

"...Miles." Broken, pathetic, pleading. "I don't lov-"

"Shut up." The words came out so thick and coarse, he almost choked on them.

Phoenix crumbled, locks of hair obscuring his face from the prosecutor. He used the couch next to him as a crutch, stumbling onto his feet, stumbling towards the door. The attorney's frame rattled, shaking hands clutching his jacket to his shoulders. He didn't look at the door. He felt blindly for the handle, ripping the door open and slamming it as hard as he could with his battered body.

It was wordless. Miles couldn't hear anyway; his ears rang, his throat tried to close... a useless hand stretched toward the door. He didn't even realize he had been walking towards the door until his outstretched hand touched the wood. He stared forward. His vision shook.

He... he screwed it up. His face contorted into an almost psychotic anger, his fist connecting with the door, the frame shaking. Down he slid, forehead resting against the surface.

Minutes passed as he cradled himself by the door, composing himself enough to reach for the phone buried in his pocket. He worked the speed dial, pausing for a brief moment over the number 2 key. He... decided against it. His thumb pressed into the 1 key.

"Franziska? Prosecutor's office. 30 minutes. Bring the detective."

He was dumbstruck. How would he prove that he wasn't... attracted to Edgeworth? It started to drizzle. He just stared at Maya, expression still completely dumbfounded. She may have been out of her mind, and he out of his, but... damned if he wasn't going to prove this! He was Phoenix Wright! Ace Attorney! He could prove anything!

"You want proof? I'll give you proof, Maya!" It started raining harder.

"YEEEEAHHH NIIIICK! PROOOF!" She pumped her fist in the air, as thunder cracked above them. The lightning lit the seedy church behind them up like fire. Phoenix whipped around, staring in shock at the clap of thunder. Suddenly his eyes set, and he grabbed Maya by the wrist.

"You said you wanted proof. Okay. This is proof."

---

"Thank you for coming so promptly."

Franziska and Detective Gumshoe stood side by side, in front of Edgeworth's desk. Franziska's whip was firmly in her grasp, and Gumshoe kept a steady eye on it, just in case.

"Miles Edgeworth," She stated his full name matter of factly, resting a fist full of whip on her hip. Her other hand pointed an accusation. "Why have you called Scruffy and myself to your office today?"

"Yeah, pal, I'm just about as confused. What's up?" Gumshoe summed her statement up in a few less words.

Miles sighed quietly, raking a hand through his bangs, stroking back to his neck, rubbing. His elbow planted on the desk with a thud. "Lady and Gentleman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to play a janitorial role with me."

"Janitorial..." Gumshoe pondered the word. The meaning clicked in his head, and his temper fumed. "Janitor!? You're not demoting me, are you, boss!? What'd I d-"

"Scruffy, hush," Franziska rolled her eyes to herself, planting them back on Miles. "What are we cleaning, dare I ask, Miles Edgeworth?"

"A mess. More specifically, a marital affair." He fished in his desk, producing a manila envelope full of files; papers and pictures. Franziska grabbed it, thumbing through it.

"Oooh, an affair?! I bet you it was that seedy lady in the apartment next to me, pal. She's always after those married men - I bet you someone's suing her!"

"Scruffy, I told you to hush," Her eyes were trained on the files. Her eyes scanned back and forth, brows darkening and cocking at different sentences. "Is this real, Miles Edgeworth?"

"I.." He coughed, covering up the crack in his voice as he paused, "I'm afraid so. On top of this as well, I recently recieved a report of an assault charge in the same vicinity, someone is seeking legal action against his assailant - which is contained in the folder you hold."

"Assailant?" Gumshoe flinched.

"Legal action?" Franiziska piped.

"Yes, you'll find pictures of the scene and some of the 'injuries' the accuser is claiming. Some of them you may find quite interesting."

Franziska still scanned the folder, Gumshoe attempting at every chance to hover over her shoulder, trying his best to sneak peeks at the information inside. Miles huffed.

"Franziska - share." She made a face, and reluctantly held out the folder full of files. Gumshoe scanned over them as well, an expression of confusion setting into his features.

"Um, pal, this bruise on the guy's face... it's a little odd."

Miles' brows knit together, not noticing anything odd about any of them himself. He held out a hand, coaxing the detective to hand it over with a wave of two fingers. He glanced down at the picture once in hand, bringing it to his face, scrutinizing.

Then it hit him like a wet sack of potatoes. Encased in cement.

"This... this isn't a good discovery, detective. At that time, there was only one person that could have made this manner of bruise on the victim," His fingers raked back through his hair, knotting. Why couldn't he stay out of trouble? "And that person, I'm afraid, is Phoenix Wright. Unless we had another attorney floating amongst the flotsam."

They chimed together.

"Mr. Wright!?"

"Phoenix Wright!?"

Gumshoe sulked. "How do you figure, boss?"

"Look at the shape. You're the one who brought it to light, detective." Miles motioned to it, tracing the shape. "It's round - and look at these ridges - and the blank spot in the middle. I'm sure you recognize it now?"

"It's..." Confusion first, then realization. Gumshoe jumped. "It's an ATTORNEY'S BADGE!"

"Precisely, I'm afraid." Miles placed his hands on the desk, pushing himself up. "The problem is, I don't see how he could have gotten a bruise in that manner from a badge on our dear attorney's chest."

"That does pose a problem, doesn't it." Franziska said, with her chin between her thumb and finger.

A heavy heaved sigh. "Yes, but that's a problem for the detective to investigate. You and I have our own issue at the time." He looked to Gumshoe, the word stern written in his features.

"I want you to go to this address," He said, producing a piece of paper. "You know what to do when you get there, I hope, since it's your job. I'd also like you to call this number,"

"Boss?"

"It's Larry. I'd like his help in finding Mr. Wright, while you investigate the scene." Miles straightened, breathing once to compose himself. "After this ordeal came to light, he ran from my home. I haven't seen him since."

"Miles Edgeworth, you keep mentioning this ordeal, but I haven't heard anything that... truly sounds like an ordeal; just this assault charge." Franziska said with a gleam of frustration in her tone.

"I'm getting to that, be patient."

"I'd like to know right now, little brother."

A long silence.

Gumshoe coughed.

"Wright... has apparently married Ms. Fey," He said, slowly, with some effort, through clenched teeth. "Accidentally, it seems - I would like you to help me fashion some manner of annulment."

Franziska stood shocked. Gumshoe really didn't stand - he flopped in a chair, with much the same expression as she held.

"Wow... really, pal?"

"Yes, really, pal," Miles spat out, sounding more than a little sarcastic. Like he'd joke about it. He fished a paper out of his breast pocket - the one Phoenix held not forty five minutes earlier. "He dropped this on the way out of my home. It's a marriage certificate." Franziska offered a hand to take the paper. Miles obliged.

"It's signed by a Mr. Axel A. Marydent,"

"The priest, I'd surmise." He groaned, pointing his sister's attention to the name of the church. "The priest of the 'Lord's Church of Love'..." He looked sick.

"So I'm going to go investigate there, right boss?"

"Yes, after you alert Larry and have him search for Mr. Wright," A serious tone, then: "In the event we do not clear him before he's found, have Larry bring you to him and read him his rights."

"Got'cha." Gumshoe glanced out under hooded brows, but otherwise understood.

"And we're to..?" Franziska paused, waiting for Miles to finish her sentence.

"We're to finagle an annulment."

"But pal, what about Maya? Won't we need her too?"

The prosecutor wagged a finger at Gumshoe, confidence clouding his face. "I've got that covered. I've phoned ahead to Kurain and they are to direct her in our direction upon her arrival home; that young... Pearl, was it? She gave me her word rather emphatically that she would see to it." He sat in his office chair again, tenting his hands and glancing at his comrades.

"So we're all clear?"

"Crystal, Miles Edgeworth."

"Yeah pal, like glass."

And they split up, each to do their jobs.

He had just put away his phone. Clutching the picture in hand, Gumshoe shot his eyes back and forth to the decrepit building in front of him. Back to the picture. Back to the building. To the picture. Building. Picture.

...He was pretty sure he was in the right place.

His knock on the door sounded loud even to him; maybe the door was hollow. It sure sounded like there wasn't anything inside the actual door. Must'a been cheap. Suddenly the door whipped open, a comparatively short young woman stood before him. She bowed, smiling as bright as a 100 watt bulb.

"Hello sir! My name is Ann, how may I help you, sir? We don't open for another few hours..."

"Ah! No, no pal, I'm not looking for any service here!" Gumshoe waves his hands in a panic, squinting at the paper in his hands. "I'm looking for a Mr... Axel? Axel Marydent."

"Oh! Mr. Marydent is in his office right now, I'd be more than happy to take you there sir~!" She smiled bright, skipping off down a small hallway. Gumshoe dutifully followed, ducking too-short archways and door frames. They finally reached a rather ornate door. Little Ann dutifully knocked, her voice full of what only could be described as sugar.

"Mr. Maaaarydent~ You have a viiiiisitor~"

"Ahah, send him in, Ms. Ulmen, dear lass, send him in! I believe I was expecting this one!" And the door was opened.

The old man at the desk looked confused for a brief moment. Gumshoe took to a nervous laugh, and put his hand out, across a distance of about ten feet. He realized his error, drawing his hand back and laughing again. "Ah, uh, the name's Dick - Dick Gumshoe. I'm a detective."

The old man still looked confused. "Ahah! The cops, the fuzz, the men in blue-... Well, rather, a green coat. Hello detective; I was under the impression I was meeting a younger man today. Sounded rather polite, bit of an accent, you see..."

Ow! Defeat punched through the detective's heart! So what if he wasn't that young... "That must have been my boss - he called ahead of me I guess, pal."

"Ahah, I see, I see..." He looked down, his chin in the crux of the valley of his thumb, a grave look on his face. "So, you are a detective, I see. What misfortune has this humble house of love brought!" The pain in his features was just simply depressing.

"Oh! Nothing so bad, I promise! Just a few things my boss sent me down to clear up, pal."

"Ahah, your boss, I see, I see. Your boss is...?"

"Prosecutor Edgeworth, actually."

"Ahah, oh dear. A prosecutor? What misfortune is it?"

This guy was weird. Gumshoe sighed, glancing around the room. He fished in his jacket for the certificate, showing it to the 'priest'. "This actually belongs to a friend of mine. He came down here and got married, but he wasn't in the best of mindsets at the time. Do you think you could shed a little light on what happened down here for me?"

"Oh, I see, I see. Well yes, we photograph all of our services; your friend did not receive his?"

"...Not that I was told if he did, pal." His brows hooded his eyes. "He's kinda missing right now, so if you could give me the information, that would be a lot'a help."

"Ahah, oh dear, oh dear. Well of course I'll hunt down those pictures for you, right away! Straight away!" He swiveled his chair, wheeling to a file cabinet. He thumbed down the folders. "Your friend?"

"Huh? Oh! Phoenix Wright."

"Ahah," He held a folder in his hand, a few corners of photos visible. The item slapped on the desk, the old man flipping through it, producing one picture for verification. "Is this your man, detective?"

It was hard to mistake. A man in a white dress shirt stood next to a considerably much shorter young woman, his tie slung over his shoulder, a goofy, but nerve wracked smile. The young woman was all smiles, a blue suit jacket slung over her tiny frame. Porcupine hair and a topknot. They looked happy enough. Gumshoe nodded. "Yeah. That's Mr. Wright alright."

"Ahah, glad to hear it, glad to hear it my boy!" He handed over the folder, polite as all get out. "Please, look to your heart's content! Just return the folder here in the near future, I need them for my records!"

"Sure thing pal," Gumshoe nodded, tucking the folder under his arm, ducking back under the archways and exiting the small church. Now just to more or less do his job and find out what happened.

...Too bad Mr. Wright usually ended up doing his job for him. He sighed, and started the trek back to the office with his spoils.

---

After a few hours, Larry still glared darkly at his phone. Why couldn't they bug someone else to do this! He had stuff to do! Important stuff! His girlfriend wasn't gonna wait up on him all night while he looked for some loser attorney who couldn't get a girl! And on top of that, if that detective couldn't... something or other, he'd have to turn Nick in? What nonsense was that! Nick? A convict! Bah! It was inconceivable! Didn't make sense - didn't make sense at all! He was a LAWYER for crying out loud, they weren't criminals! The brisk walking pace he was at slowed. His hand gravitated to the back of his head, scratching.

What... what if Nick did do something bad? Maybe Nick was just a lawyer to... to cover for some seedy past! YEAH! He was a criminal! A hard boiled, film noir criminal! He grumbled, over and over and over, convinced more and more with each grumble that Phoenix had done something as heinous as murdering a kitten.

He'd been stumbling over himself, looking for Phoenix, for hours. After that long, he pretty much stopped looking. He ended up in the middle of a gaggle of girls. He himself was coated in bruises a mere five minutes later. He went home.

Maybe Edgeworth should have trusted the search for Phoenix to somebody else?

---

He fumbled for his keys. His fingers wouldn't work. He grumbled, and cursed, and stabbed every key he had on him into the little lock. Finally, in frustration, he kicked the door, the dress shoe leaving a black mark on the paint. One of his keys finally jarred the lock, and the door swung open.

Wright and Co. Law Offices opened before him. Phoenix all but collapsed, holding himself up with the wall. At least right now, he was somewhere safe, that's all that mattered. He drug himself over to the small couch, flopping down, shouting in agony as the bruises in his skin screamed back to life again.

Stupid Miles. Stupid frickin' Miles Edgeworth. All that talk, and when Phoenix fucked up the biggest - he got abandoned. He slung his jacket onto the floor, badge clinking to the ground. He fished under the couch, something Maya wasn't ever smart enough to do, since it was always there - and reeled a bottle back up to his chest. Stupid situation - he was too upset to even begin to think of the logistics. He was a lawyer; he could clear up an annulment on his own, easy. But his head was so full of emotion, he couldn't wrap his brain around it. He opened the bottle and drank, angry and hateful.

He laid there drinking for what seemed like forever.

After a few hours, he laid alone, staring up at the ceiling, empty bottle in hand. Two or three littered the floor by him. He watched the ceiling fan spin, the crisp grape cutting through the chaos in his head. He still wasn't in any mind to do anything - but he could think, at the very, very least.

...He thought, suddenly, that he should find Maya.

"AAAUGH - This is why I don't study this nonsense!" Miles shouted, angry.

"Aw, little brother, so troubled. Why don't you drink your tea and leave all this book work to me?" Franziska sounded more than a little smug with her statement, like she had the whole business figured out. Miles was unamused.

"No, no thank you. I understand it, it's just there's so much room for doubt and interpretation, I'm just not sure how to proceed," His forehead met the desk. "We need to wait for Gumshoe to make absolute certain that they were both intoxicated at the time."

"Intoxicated?"

"Mm hmm. That would be out best bet; I'm rather certain they're not related and I'd like to believe Wright is sexually capabl-" He turned the color of his suit and slid into his chair. Franziska blinked, turning to him, a completely unaware look on her face.

"...What? Did I do something funny, Miles Edgeworth?" He... couldn't believe she didn't notice.

"Ah. Nothing. Dropped my pen." Cooly recovering himself, he tapped said pen on the desk. A numbered list of annulment reasons lay by his share of the stack of papers. Franziska slid it over to her side, reading aloud.

"Phoenix Wright was not married before this, correct?"

"No." Miles shook his head crossing out the possibility in his head.

"Maya Fey is over the age of consent."

"That's true..." Another crossed bullet.

"Drugs or alcohol, or otherwise mentally incapacitated?"

He nodded slowly, mentally checking that statement - as a possibly. He had no way of knowing wether or not they had sobered beforehand. Franziska circled it with a bold line.

"Marriage by threat or force?"

Hm. "Check that one," Miles did so in his head, while Franziska looked at him, a cock in her left brow.

"...Really? You think he forced her to?"

"...Well, there was an assault. And does it state who did the forcing? It could have been an third party."

"Point taken and understood, little brother." She circled it wide on the list. "False pretenses?"

"Hm?"

"Lying to make her do it, not too complex a thought."

"Oh. No, I doubt it - but I suppose it's a possibility." It got circled.

"Impotency..." She scratched that off on her own. Miles heaved a sigh of relief - he didn't have to say it. "And they're not related, so that gets ex'd as well... And we're left with two: Intoxication, Threat or Force, and Deceit."

Miles nodded. "Mm. Sounds about what I figured."

"Hey pal!" Gumshoe burst through the office door, folder firmly under his arm. It had taken him hours, but he made it back to the office. "I got the file from that Mr. Marydent for you - he was a weird old bat."

"Just the man we needed!" Miles almost smiled. Almost.

"Scruffy! Bring those files over here if you please." He did as she instructed, mainly because he didn't see her whip on her anywhere. Miles snatched the folder before Franziska had a chance, flipping through it. He stayed as composed as he could, but his complexion still turned ashy with something that could be construed as jealousy. He examined the three pictures contained in the file, all signed at the bottom - 'Annette Ulmen'.

The first was of the two of them entering the building. There was a thumb over the corner, obscuring a group of three, what looked like men, all in dress slacks. A set of couples sat on a bench, unobstructed, on the opposite side, looking caught up in the moment, and caught up in each other - and each others partners. Miles himself obscured that with his own thumb. He was left with the middle of the picture: A tall man in blue, hair spiked backward. His tie was loose, slung over his shoulder, and an unlabeled bottle was in his hand. A little raven-headed woman stood next to him, her hair a little tousled, violet jacket hanging off her shoulders. Her geta sandals were tucked into her sash. She was beaming at the camera, apparently smiling at whoever was holding it at the time. The man in blue was looking off to the side, his expression not really visible. Miles took comfort that they indeed looked rather inebriated - plus Phoenix seemed to have ganked a bottle from the party, clutching it by the neck with a fist in his right hand. An even stronger case looked possible.

The next picture... a thumb still covered the lens, hiding a few faces. This... 'Annette' wasn't a very good photographer. The aisles were still littered with people lost in the individuals next to them, but all Miles could focus on was the blue and violet blotch in the middle of the photo. The only ones that weren't tangled up. But... wait, this was odd. Phoenix wasn't wearing blue. His jacket was gone - and around the shoulders of the young medium, Maya. Her own jacket was... Miles raised a brow. It was sticking out of the back of Phoenix's pants - it didn't seem it was there in a suggestive way; it looked reminiscent of someone tying a jacket around their waist, however Maya's sleeves were much too short to fit a grown man's waist. Miles was scribbling down these notes, lost in his own thoughts. He had to be lost in something; the pose they stood in troubled him too much to focus on - their lips were inches apart. The photo was taken from behind Maya.

And the final picture. They stood back at the doorway, that blasted thumb covering a corner. Nobody was behind it this time, however. Nothing really was special about it. Phoenix stood in his white shirt, his tie still slung over his shoulder, Maya stood beside him, all smiles, in the blue suit jacket. Phoenix's face was less than pleasant, his eyes shifted to the side again, a fake smile plastered on his face. He looked... clear. Present.

Not drunk. But he had a bottle in his hands, and... gah. Miles grumbled.

"Trouble, little brother?"

"No. Nothing." He still grumbled, but a tiny voice peeped by the door. They all glanced up - it was a small girl. She looked older, but she was... tiny.

"Sir, I was looking for Detective Gumshoe? There was a man at the precinct who was rather angry no one was there to greet him, he came to the office to complain; shall I send him up...?" Ah. An intern? Miles took answering off of Gumshoe's hands - he was rather certain of what was coming.

"Yes dear, if you please, send him directly to my office; I believe he was requesting my services."

She nodded briskly, straightening. Only thing she was missing was the salute. "Yes sir, right away!" She clipped down the hall, heels making a distinctive footfall.

Miles planted his elbows to his desk again, resting his chin on knit together hands. "It looks like we'll be hearing from our plaintiff very soon..."

It'd started to rain. Ugh, why did he never carry an umbrella for times like these? The water ran out of his hair, and dripped off his nose - flying in when he tried to breathe. Agh, his law office for an umbrella. The attorney sighed, ducking under a store awning, shaking his hair out. It'd only been about fifteen minutes since he left the office, but he was soaked to the bone. Plus, he had no idea where Maya had gotten to. Think, Phoenix, just think - what could you do to find her... Ah! Call! Exactly! He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, pressing the appropriate button for speed dial. It... didn't ring. What? He looked at the phone - it couldn't complete the call. Plus - Uh oh - his battery was about dead too. He wiped the drips from his eyebrow, pressing the four key. He waited - it rang.

"Hello! This is Kurain Village, Pearl speaking!" The dainty chime in her voice was distinct, even over the phone.

"Oh, Pearls. Is... is Maya there?"

"...She's not with you, Mr. Nick...?" So... she never made it home? That didn't sound right...

"No, she's not, actually... I was hoping she would be there, I needed to talk to her. I think her phone is dead, too, couldn't get through."

"Oh no, I was supposed to...!" Pearl's tone was suddenly upset. "Mr. Nick! You need to find Mystic Maya! I was supposed to send her back to town when she got here!" Wait, what? - and that's exactly what came out of his mouth.

"Wait, what? You were supposed to send her back? Why?"

"Well... um," She paused. He could almost hear her biting her thumb. "That Mr. pro... prot..." He heard the word she was stumbling over, and understood immediately.

"I see," The sound of that was a little more acidic than it should have been; He corrected his tone, and then, "Don't worry Pearls, I'll find Maya and I'll have her home very soon, 'kay?"

"'Kay! Bye Mr. Nick!" The tone was bright, and then the line clicked dead - as did his phone. Lucky lucky. Other than Kurain, there was only one place Maya could be - the apartment. It wasn't too far, he could make it in ten minutes if he awning-hopped the whole way... Stupid rain.

---

Maya sighed. She'd actually almost tired of watching DVDs. Was Nick ever getting home? She sat huddled in the little fleece blanket, her purple acolyte jacket still missing. Steel Samurai was her favorite... but she could only handle one marathon viewing a week. She reached for the remote, clicking the TV off. She was still worried about Nick. She'd already called Edgeworth's house twice, but there wasn't an answer - then she tried his office, but someone said he wasn't taking calls or some such nonsense; that only succeeded in frustrating her. Why did her phone have to die! Then she could have just called Nick's own phone.

No, she didn't remember the numbers in her phone. They were in her phone! She wouldn't have had to remember them if the phone would stay charged! She swung her legs up on the couch, pulling the fleece around her shoulders tighter. Just then, the door knob rattled - someone kicked at the door. She froze in her spot, almost afraid to say anything.

"U-um, hello?"

"MAYA! Maya, let me in it's starting to pour put here!" It was a frustrated, upset voice - one she immediately recognized as Phoenix. "Why is the door locked!?"

"Nick!" She hopped up off the couch, nearly jumping across the short distance to the door, unlocking the knob with a quick motion and opening the door. A soaked attorney stood in front of her, and she pulled him in the door, patting at the four or five pound heavier suit. "Nick, what happened!? I thought you were at Edgewor-"

She stopped short as a piercing glare shot up at her. "Um, never mind. I'll get a towel and dry your hair off..." She walked off to a little closet, pulling a white terrycloth towel out. Phoenix sat down on the couch, heavy, not really concerned about the couch itself.

"Yeah... Maya? We need to talk, okay?" She brought the towel over, draping it over his head, scratching around to soak up the water. Suddenly, Phoenix jumped back, out of her reach. "OW! What are you doing, trying to rip my scalp off?!"

She blinked, completely unaware of having done anything. "Uh... no, I was trying to dry your hair... and talk about what?" She stepped up on the couch, circling back to finger through his hair carefully. "Geez, Nick, you've got a huge bruise back here..."

"...A bruise?" He thought for a second, but dismissed it just as quickly. "Listen, uh, sit down, Maya."

"Hm?" She sat down, blinking up at Phoenix. Innocent, really. She didn't have a clue of what he was going to say next.

"We... do you remember anything of when we left the apartment? Anything at all."

"I..." She thought about it. "I remember... teasing you. And... and..." She furrowed, pursing her lips. "It's a blank after that."

"We... we got married, Maya. I found the certificate in my pocket at Edgeworth's."

She didn't really speak. She tried, but it was a squeak.

"Maya?" She was quiet for a lot longer than he would have liked.

"Are... are you going to fix it?"

"...I'd like to." He didn't like the expression on her face-... Oh no. Tears started to well in her eyes.

"..." She looked down, choking back a sob. "...Why?"

"Maya, you know why we have to fix it."

"But Nick, I... I..." She stumbled over her thoughts. Phoenix's face softened, pulling her over. He hugged her, tight. "I... if we did it anyway, can't we just leave it...?"

"No, Maya. You... you know I love you, right? Like I love Mia. Like I love Pearl. Like sisters," He paused, patting her back once, which caused her to cry harder. "If I'd known..."

"I'm sorry I kept it secret, Nick, I... I'm really sorry, Nick..." His suit was already soaked, but she wasn't helping much. All of a sudden, the phone rang. Phoenix reached behind him, picking up the phone and putting it to his ear.

"Hello? This is Phoenix." Ugh, and just who he wanted to hear. Yippie, it was Edgeworth.

"Wright... I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come to the prosecutor's office."

"Hell no. Not after what happ-"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come to the prosecutor's office," His tone was stressed, angry, and impatient. The line clicked dead. Phoenix slammed the phone back on the hook.

"...Nick?" She was still sniffling. He took a deep breath in, composing himself. He thumbed away a tear rolling down Maya's cheek.

"The mighty prosecutor has summoned me to his lair. Do you want to come?"

She put on a brave face, and smiled. "Y-yeah. Let's go see what mean ol' Mr. Edgeworth wants," She said shakily, fishing in her pocket for change. "I-I'll even put up for a c-cab, 'kay Nick?"

Phoenix half smiled. She was trying really hard. "Sounds good. Let's go, then, okay?" He pushed himself up off the couch, walking towards the door.

"Fine. We're here. What?" Phoenix's tone was flat, emotionless. Maya clicked behind him, her face still pointed at the floor. They had just walked into Edgeworth's office, when all four faces in the room turned to them.

Miles' own was hidden with hair and hands.

Franziska's was vaguely amused, which didn't amuse Phoenix.

Gumshoe's was wounded, like a puppy.

The last one... Phoenix didn't recognize. But it was absolutely livid.

"HIM! HIM! That's the man that assaulted me!" He cried, a finger pointed directly at Phoenix. He blinked, once, completely flabbergasted.

"...What?" He stepped forward, with confusion, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I didn't assault you, I've been dealing with my own crap today. I... I don't really need yours."

"Oh YES you did!" He said indignantly, pointing at the dark purple bruise on his right cheekbone. It was round, circular... the same shape as the badge pinned to his chest. "You gave this to me, for no reason! So I'm pressing charges!"

"Pressing... CHARGES!? That's hardly proof!" Phoenix wailed, waving an arm. His eyes darted to Edgeworth, anger flitting through his features. The prosecutor merely sat there, watching his new client.

"This is proof enough! I was informed by this detective here that you have no alibi to not be where you assaulted me! No alibi! Plus you were drun-"

"That's enough - enough of that, Mr. Busey." Miles' hands met his desk. His face was still obscured, as he looked down. "You'll give away our case - I'm afraid you're talking to our opposing council."

Phoenix stared. Just... stared. There wasn't even an emotion in his head.

"Am I wrong, Mr. Wright?" Silence. Long and unshattered - until Miles spoke next. "I take that as affirmation; Mr. Busey, if you'll meet me tomorrow morning, I'd be glad to speak particulars of this with you, but I have pressing issues to attend to here."

"Heh, most certainly, Prosecutor, I'll be here 9AM sharp, you can bet." The short man started to walk out of the room, drifting close to Phoenix as he left, causing him to have to step back to avoid him. A sharp growl ripped from the attorney as the door shut.

"WHAT THE HELL." He stomped up, eyes angry, to Edgeworth's desk. Gumshoe stood poised to grab him, just in case, but all Phoenix did was slam his hands down on the wood. "You took a case against me!? What did I do this time!?"

"Well apparently, you've assaulted an innocent man in a drunken rage." Silence again. Phoenix did nothing but stare daggers into the top of Edgeworth's head - all he could see of the other man. Suddenly, he looked up, countering the daggers with a look of extreme remorse. Phoenix... couldn't compete. He sat down in a chair, digging his hands into his hair. "Phoenix, we're not that stupid. We know you didn't do it."

"...Yeah, I know, I should know better. Everyone laugh at Phoen- Ow..." He pulled his hand back out of his hair, bringing it to his face - the tips of his fingers were red. His eyes widened. "Oh crap, my head... my head's bleeding."

Maya clipped up behind him, her face still sad looking. She put her fingers right into his hair, separating it, looking for the offending injury. Her fingers slowly turned red as she worked. "Oh, yikes... looks like you got whacked pretty hard, Nick... the whole back of your head is bruised, almost."

"Maya," Edgeworth perked up, finally taking notice of her presence. "Ah, I have something to discuss with you..."

"She knows, Edgeworth. I already told her, not a few minutes before you called."

"Ah... so then, she's okay with me going ahead with the annulment?" He could tell the words bit though the young medium's mind, but she remained silent.

"...Yeah, she-... we're okay with it." He patted the hand that suddenly gripped his shoulder. Miles nodded.

"I see. Well, since we're all on the same page on that subject... let's get down to business, shall we?" Phoenix looked up, confused.

"Business?" Miles laughed.

"You really think I'm taking this case seriously? It's obvious, he's merely taking advantage of this situation." Miles stood, reaching across his desk, picking up a familiar file, full of pictures. He flopped it down in front of Phoenix. "These look familiar?"

"...Pictures?" He thumbed through them, blinking wide once he realized what they were. "Oh geez, wedding pictures."

"Precisely, wedding pictures." Miles shuffled through the ones in Phoenix's hand with a finger, yanking the last one. "This one in particular I'd like you to see. I believe you were exiting after the ceremony."

"..." He stared for a while, examining closely. "I... I remember this. Vividly."

"Aha. I was afraid of that."

"What?"

"You remember the ceremony," Miles started, a tiny tinge of acid in his voice, "Which hurts our annulment case - but strongly helps the assault case."

"I didn't do that!" A finger wag. Agh, he hated that finger wag.

"And you call yourself a lawyer. Think about it for a moment - all your bruises..."

...All he got was a blank stare. Edgeworth sighed.

"Maybe, just maybe, you got whacked in the head? Maybe you were assaulted?" Miles gathered up the pictures, including the yanking of pictures out of Phoenix's hand, and put them in his desk. "But that's all the hint I'm giving you. Tomorrow, be here. We'll sort this out in court."

Phoenix nodded. "Right."

That's right - no one could get away with lies in a court of law.

'Kay, this was it - all these three days would come down to this. In a court of law, he'd get the truth of what happened: why he married Maya, and what exactly happened that he's being accused of. Suddenly, Maya appeared before him, her head hung down. She blinked up, plastering a grin on her face, clapping her hands together with a quick nod.

"Ah! Hi Nick."

"...Hey Maya." Phoenix said with a quick wave, from where he sat on the couch in the tiny lobby. He sounded tired - which made sense, because he was. The doctor's visits from last night he and Maya had were absolutely exhausting... but at least they had a little evidence to use today. Two bullets were better than none at all.

"Aw, cheer up, Nick, today will go fine. Edgeworth is on the other side of that room, you know he'll make sure the right verdict is dropped."

...She was right. Miles was on the other side of that witness stand, playing the part of the enemy; in a trial where he was the defendant. He wasn't sure what to think of that. Yes, he knew that all of them - Gumshoe, Franziska, and Miles himself had all looked him dead in the eye and said 'We know you didn't do it,' but... they wouldn't even prove it to him. He had... he had no idea what the game plan was. It bothered him.

"...Um, yeah. Edgeworth is..." The bailiff interrupted him.

"Mr. Wright, it's time to collect your client and head in."

He did his best to collect himself, and stood up, Maya's geta clicking behind him as the courtroom doors clicked shut behind the both of them.



The gavel cracked. The judge cleared his throat, shuffling through papers at his bench. He blinked once, scrutinizing the page. Then glanced at Phoenix through the corner of an eye. Back to the paper. Phoenix. Paper.

"Why this says... that you're the defendant, Mr. Wright - and you're defending yourself?"

"Ah, yes, Your Honor," He said, sheepish smile formed, raking a hand through his hair. He winced once as he touched the scabbing in the back.

"..." The judge was speechless for a moment, and then turned to the prosecution bench. "Well then, this was unexpected. Mr. Edgeworth, I assume you knew about this prior."

"Yes, Your Honor, I knew."

A sage nod. "Ah, I see. Well then. This court is in session for the trial of Mr. Phoenix Wright, are both parties ready?"

"The defense is ready, Your Honor."

"As is the prosecution, Your Honor."

"Opening statements, Mr. Edgeworth?"

He nodded, crossing his arms, a smile tugging at a corner of his mouth. "Why most certainly. The prosecution was approached by a man, claiming that this man, our own Phoenix Wright, assaulted him in a park near a get-in-get-out church, the 'Lord's Church of Love.'"

The judge looked absolutely shocked. "Why Mr. Wright! Why in the name of everything good would you assault a man!?"

Oh geez, not already. Edgeworth had turned the entire trial against him in a matter of seconds - and he hadn't even presented anything yet! The sweat rolled. "Uh, I'm sort of here because I didn't do it, Your Honor." He stood tall, eyes drilling at Edgeworth. "I plead Not Guilty."

...Aughhhhh he was wagging his finger! Couldn't he go easy on him just this once? "We'll see about that, Mr. Wright."

Yeeah, we'll see alright. Just bang the gavel already. And as if on cue, the sharp crack resounded.

"Well then, Mr. Edgeworth, you may call your first witness." Oh. Oh crap. He had no idea who he was calling as a first witness. Sweat rolled again as he waited to hear the name.

"The prosecution calls Mr. Axel A. Marydent to the stand."

...Who?

A short little man walked up to the stand, his little hat covering what was left of his hair. He still wore his little... oh geez. His priest collar. Oh damn you to hell, Edgeworth.

"If you could please state your name and occupation for the court."

"Oh yes! Of course, of course. My name is Axel Allan Marydent, and I'm the humble priest of the Lord's Church of Love!"

"Ah, I see," Acid burned through Edgeworth's voice, but he covered it quickly. "If you could please tell us about the events of the night of the assault..."

"Oh dear, oh my! If only I was sure I could be of help! I would be absolutely honored to, Sir Prosecutor."



"We had just started our late night ceremonies for the night - you know, those ones for the impassioned youth in the middle of the night, that just can't wait for love! We had a few of those couples roll in late, including this well dressed chap over here, the one in the badge, I do so remember him!"

Ugh, now that's just lovely. He got fingered in the first testimony. Beautiful, just beautiful. He took a quick glance at Maya - she was so quiet he almost forgot she was there. She just sat, watching.

"The prosecution has ample evidence to support this claim; photographic evidence, Your Honor," He held up a file full of papers, offering it to the bailiff to hand to the judge.

"Photographic?! Oh my. The court accepts this into evidence." Phoenix watched the judge pull paper after picture out of the file. It looked like the pictures he was shown yesterday, plus a few written records - that Edgeworth didn't show him. He should have known that. "You may cross-examine if you wish, Mr. Wright."

"Yes Your Honor." He waited until he was handed his copy of the file folder, and then Phoenix cradled his chin, looking at the priest. "Now you say you remember me; why are you so sure it was me?"

"Well, my dear boy, like I said, you were wearing that exact badge. And I don't forget many of our patrons that come in dragging liquor bottles."

"HOLD IT!" Phoenix slammed his desk. "Who says it was a liquor bottle?"

"Well, it wasn't labeled either way, I must say. I don't know for sure that it was alcohol, I'm very afraid."

"Then why assume it was?"

"Well, you were drunk anyway, dear boy."

The gallery murmured. The judge cracked his gavel to silence them, looking down upon the defense. "Was that important, Mr. Wright?"

"Of course. May I request it added to the testimony?"

"You may." Another crack. "Witness, do so, please."

"A-alright then, fine, fine." The priest cleared his throat, speaking quite plainly. "You were drunk that night, Mr. Attorney."

Hah, he had him. He picked up the picture he was handed the day before; the one he remembered clearest of all. "Mr. Marydent; I claim I was not legally drunk for the entire ceremony," He said, tapping the picture he held in his hand. "This moment in particular I remember, very vividly. Only after this does my own memory get hazy."

"Mr. Wright," The judge stared down, threatening. "Does your own recollection have anything to do with this trial?"

"...Uh, sorta, since we're talking about me?"

"..." Phoenix hung his head. Apparently, the judge had forgotten who was on trial. "Oh... well then, carry on."

"Thank you, Your Honor, but the defense requests more information about the night in question - More detail!"

The judge blinked. "But you just established you were there, Mr. Wright! How much more detail do you need!?"

The sheepish grin crept back, his hand flying into his hair. Ow, good night, why couldn't he avoid the bruise in his hair? "Well, I said I wasn't legally intoxicated until the very end of the ceremony. My point being if I had brought a liquor bottle with me and was drinking it, I would have been trashed, Your Honor."

"..." He pondered for a moment. Phoenix feared since he used the slang word 'trashed,' that he had confused the judge. "Ah, I see. And that makes what point...?"

His hands cracked across his desk, pointing a finger with a flair. "I couldn't have been in the state that the prosecution claims: I was not in a drunken rage the night of the assault!"

The gallery roared to life again; the judge attempted to gavel it into submission. "Order! I will have order in this court!" A sharp turn to the prosecution. "Mr. Edgeworth, do you acknowledge the defense's claim?!"

Edgeworth stood calm. Crap. "Yes, I do. Which is why the prosecution never made the claim that Mr. Wright was in a drunken rage." Ach, he had him. Had him good, too. His arms crossed, with that damnable finger still tapping. "Mr. Marydent himself has no further information for us, but his assistant does. She handles all the lobby work, pre-ceremony."

"Ahh. A second witness, I see." The judge nodded, looking at Edgeworth. "I assume you need time to prepare this witness?"

"Yes Your Honor, only ten minutes. She arrived late."

"I see. Well then, this court calls a ten minute recess."

The gavel cracked. This was going to be a long day.

"Ugh, Nick, what are we gonna do?" Maya swung her feet from the lobby couch, while she watched Phoenix pace back and forth. They really didn't have much to go on; neither of them really remembered that night at all.

"...I'm not sure yet." Phoenix stopped his pacing, and turned to Maya, gripping her shoulders. "Do you remember anything at all?"

"Not a whole lot, Nick, I told you. It gets hazy after I started teasing you."

"Nothing after that?" He shook her gently once. "Anything after that."

"Well... I remember walking. Into the park." She spoke slowly, trying to piece together the fragments of memories she had.

"Walking into the park isn't good, Maya, that puts us at the scene."

"...And there was a man." Phoenix hung his head.

"Again, that's bad, Maya."

She was quiet for a minute or two. "...He had my jacket."

Phoenix perked. He reached over her on the couch to grab his file folder, and retrieved the picture he presented earlier. He looked close... and she was right. The jacket that he had shoved into the back of his pants was missing in that picture.

"...This is good, Maya. Real good." ...He faltered. "Or bad - real bad."

"Bad?" She tilted her head.

"Well, this could go either way. It could give me motive, or give him motive..." Phoenix grumbled. "And knowing Edgeworth, he'd press it for my motive as far as he could get."

"...Clobbering a guy to get my jacket back? What kind of fool motive is that?"

Phoenix just stared deadpan at her. "Maya. It's Edgeworth. He could claim I killed a man for a paper bag and get away with it," He sighed. "But right now, he's trying to establish something by calling the church staff. I'm just not sure what yet." Again, the bailiff interrupted the rap session.

"Recess' over, kids, back to the courtroom."



The sound of the gavel thundered through the room. "Well now, where were we?" The judge looked back and forth between council, waiting for someone to remind him where he was.

"I believe we were just about to call my next witness, Your Honor, one Ann Ulmen." Edgeworth stated, rather matter-of-factly.

"Ah, yes, well bring her in then."

The bailiff led the tiny little woman up to the witness stand, her little bright face beaming at the judge. She waved like a little kid seeing Santa for the first time. The judge looked amused.

"Well now, what a friendly young lady. Could you please state your name and occupation for the court?"

A hundred watts shone from her face. "Certainly~! My name is Annette Ulmen, and I'm the secretary and photographer of The Lord's Church of Love!"

"Thank you. Now if you could please fill in any blanks left by your supervisor's testimony," Edgeworth interjected, keeping his arms cooly crossed.

"Yes sir!"



"Well, I was keeping track of all our guests that night, when this lovely couple came in to tie the knot! I asked them all the same questions I ask all our patrons; I keep them written on my clipboard just in case I forget. Now after I did all that, I took pictures of their ceremony - the ones that were submitted earlier, I believe. Oh - and about that bottle - It was grape juice. I could smell it when they walked in."

...He didn't quite know what to make of that. Almost all of that was from when he was still fuzzy. Oh well. Might as well take a crack at it.

"You kept track of the guests?"

"Well I have to, it's my job to give the specifics to Mr. Marydent."

"Ah, I see," He tapped his chin, and took a sheepish tone. "Ah, uh... what did we request?"

Edgeworth cut in once again. "We happen to have Ms. Ulmen's clipboard with us today, if it pleases the court."

The judge nodded. "Yes, it would, in fact. The court accepts this into evidence." The judge and Phoenix were handed their copies.

"Now~ if you'll look at the lists, you'll see everything you two requested at your ceremony."

Phoenix looked down at the paper in his hands, finding his and Maya's names on it ...They picked weird things. Apparently the wedding march was to Space Cowboy. He really hoped he didn't pick that one out. It was pretty late when they got there, they chose the standard ceremony, and the rin-... a ring? He didn't give her a ring as far as he knew.

"Uh, Ms. Ulmen. Something on this list is unclear." He gestured to the paper, pointing at the bullet reading 'Ring Category.' "What do you mean by 'Makeshift'?"

"Oh! By that, it means that the party didn't actually have a ring to use." She giggled. "One time, I had someone use a chewed pen cap for a ring! It was the funniest thing~"

His hands slapped the desk. "Ms. Ulmen, please answer this question - What did we use?"

She blinked at the sudden noise. "Oh. You used that pretty little pin on your lapel, sir."

Phoenix blinked.

Edgeworth blinked.

The judge blinked.

The gallery was quiet.

Maya was the only one that looked confused. Edgeworth had a look of concentration on his face, as everything started clicking together in his head. Phoenix kept his hands firmly on the desk, staring, watching his face for any clues he could use. Anything. It wasn't doing any good, though. He had to take the opportunity to make a point. Sorry Maya.

"The, uh... the defense has something to say, Your Honor."

"Yes, Mr. Wright?"

"...In light of this testimony, it is now clear that I myself was not in possession of my badge at the time of the assault. Therefore," He stood tall, "I couldn't have assaulted the plaintiff as the prosecution claims."

"But Mr. Wright, someone had to have assaulted this man, he does exibit signs of abuse!"

Edgeworth nodded, placing a hand on the bench before him. "Yes, my client was clearly knocked down a peg or two, that much is clear. But in light of this, the prosecution concedes that it was not Mr. Wright who directly initiated the altercation."

...Oh no. He wasn't calling the bluff, was he? Crap. "OBJECTION! We've already established that I didn't do it! This trial is over!" He tried to hold back the nervous sweat, but it didn't work. Edgeworth simply waved it off with a finger.

"The trial is only over when the judge says it is. In which case, we still have a culprit to find," Edgeworth stated, his voice clogged with smug. "And as I was saying, the prosecution concedes it was not Mr. Wright. Your Honor, we now formally accuse..."

No, no, no, no, no. He wasn't calling his bluff, he wasn't going to, he wasn't gonna do it, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...

"Maya Fey, in the assault of one Mr. Eric Busey."

The gallery cried foul. The judge beat them back with the gavel. "Order! Mr. Edgeworth, are you quite certain?"

"Have I ever been uncertain of a move in court? The defense has so kindly proven for me that it was our lovely paralegal that was in possession of the item that caused the offending facial bruise my client complains of," He produced a file - oh god, it was the examination he had Maya take the night before. "In addition, he went to the trouble of having her examined for me; she has a stress fracture on her left hand: presumably caused by punching my client in the face!"

"OBJECTION!" His voice was strangled. "Y-you can't prove that!"

"Overruled, Mr. Wright, that one was pathetic, even for you. Plus you just proved it yourself." Aaagh, this wasn't going well. "It seems due to this revelation, more investgation is needed by both parties. Court is adjourned."