I smoothed down my skirt again, cursed the shoes I was wearing for the seven-hundred-thousand time today and glanced at my phone to check the time. Four thirty-six. Five minutes late and I’m standing outside this sushi joint with a bright smile on my face, my red hair tied in a tight and highly polished ponytail wearing a black shirt, my navy blazer as well as a short navy pencil skirt and these goddamn shoes.
Remind me to murder my boss when he gets here.
An older man spots me and waves heading towards me, it takes me a moment to recognise the mauve (though I prefer wine-red) suit he wears as well as notice the triple cravat he wears around his neck.
“Little Wright.” He says and smiles almost warmly at me.
“Milesy!” My voice comes out surprised, almost squeaking. I really have to stop doing that.
“How are you?” Miles asks, reaching to place a hand on my shoulder. I take a moment to imagine what the people I’m supposed to be meeting here would say if they saw this, the prosecutor’s hand on my shoulder with that smile. For some reason, the thought makes me sad, maybe I’m just being stupid again.
“I’m fine. I’m working in a good job, letting Nicky do his own paperwork.” I pause a little to look at him more clearly, the eyes that Nick swears that I also have, the ashy hair that almost hangs over them as welll as his facial features in general before I speak again, “What about you? How are you?”
“Ah. I’m good, thank you. I must head back to work now, I was only taking a small lunch break, after all.” He nods and smiles at me again before he gives my shoulder a slight squeeze before he walks away.
“Verily.” I mutter under my breath before I turn back to the sushi joint and plaster that smile back onto my face. I curse the shoes again, mentally counting seven-hundred-one-thousand and one.
Two older men who I haven’t seen in my life approach me and ask if I am the assistant for Crescend studios, I nod politely, smile and tell them that I am but Mr Crescend is running a little late. They look a little disappointed until I tell them that they can go inside, since a table is already reserved. I should know, I arranged this meeting last night.
I take out my phone again, scrolling through my contacts until I find the right number.
“Pepper!” The rockstar’s voice was a little groggy, but I could hear the slow breaths in the pause that followed, the breaths that meant he was calmly smoking a cigarette.
“Where the hell are you?” I ask, not even contesting the nickname.
“Stuck in traffic.” I hear him exhale again and tap against the side of his car, “I’ll be there in five. The boys with ya yet?”
I scan my surroundings, hoping to see one of his bandmates around but instead shook my head. “No. Just me and the guys you were supposed to meet five minutes ago.”
“‘Kay, here’s what ya do. Call Leon, ask him where the fuck he is and go sit down. Tell the company guys I got carried away writin’ somethin’ for me then order yourself a fuckin’ drink and relax for once.” A short pause in which I hear him turn up his stereo slightly, blasting out his favourite song (AC/DC’s Highway To Hell) before he hurriedly called “Gotta go, Peps!” and hung up on me.
I followed his instructions, calling Leon who assured me he’d be here in the next 30 seconds, having been held up by an old friend before I stepped inside, I only ordered myself a diet cola, passing on the message that Daryan was running late because he’d been caught up in his job.
As soon as my drink arrived, so did Leon. He had his blond hair hanging over his eyes a little, giving me a slight smile as I took in the plaid shirt he had thrown over a plain black t-shirt. The associates for the record company eyed him strangely.
“This is Leon Jones, he’s Mr Crescend’s drummer and close friend. He’s been asked to sit in on this meeting, if you have no objections.”
“No objections raised, Miss Edgeworth-Wright.” One of the men said.
I noticed Leon attempt to catch my eye,when he knew he had it he mouthed “Sorry for the hold up… Pep.”
It took a couple of minutes for Daryan to actually show up and another hour to get the meeting done with. After I had shook everybody’s hand and made sure they had gone I turned onto Daryan.
“You knew we had a meeting today!” I almost shouted at him, “And you know how uncomfortable I get!”
Daryan just laughed, before he offered me a ride back to the studio. I accepted, jumping in the car alongside Leon until we arrived.
As soon as we arrived I kicked off my shoes, noticing Daryan’s look at me.
“They give me blisters.”
“I could have ‘em altered for ya.”
I shook my head, remembering just why Daryan had bought me two pairs of expensive heels.
“No, thank you. The other pair don’t give me any trouble.”
“Not when you’re throwin’ ‘em at my head.”
I walked up to my room, finishing my work there for the rest of the day until I got in at 11:20.
“i’m a Bitchy beauty and i had sex with Daryan Crescend on a prosecutors bench”
ahahahahah!! XD wat??!
COME AT ME BRO!I’m a bitchy rockstar who was gay with Shi-Long Lang in Klavier’s office.
I’m a badass criminal and I went to the Badger theme park with Jean Armstrong at Global Studios.
waaaaaat
Not fanart, but funny nonetheless!
I’m a badass prosecutor who had sex with Miles Edgeworth at the Berry Big Circus. LOLOL EWWWWWWW WHAT!? THE MAN’S MY BRO!
Okay… Daryan…
“I’m a bitchy sex addict who went to the badger theme park with Max Galactica in a proto badger costume.” BAAHAHAHAHA
Klavier (this is guessworks):
“I’m a prodigy rockstar who smuggles cocoons with Juan Corrida in Klavier’s office.” Uhhhh… what just what?
Dear Wright,
Maybe if you actually did some work, you wouldn’t be so bored.
Furthermore, you know full well I have a dog and read in my spare time. You must really be restless if you’re rambling on like this.
Very well, I’ll go with you. I’d hate to see the payment from your last client go to waste. Perhaps next time you should ask for actual currency.
At the very least this comedian should be funnier than your “bet”.
(Of course I laugh… I just haven’t had any reason lately…)
-Miles Edgeworth
To which I say:
GTFO.

Please shut the door on your way out.
Dedicated to Elise by Daryan
Yes, I made it myself. Okay, with some of the boys’ help. OBJECTION!
Written by the glorious Lizzie Edgeworth!
Another busy day at the prosecutor’s office. I must be the only person left here, now- everyone else went home long ago. Well, when they’re having to rush to catch up with their paperwork, I will be sitting at home with a nice, relaxing cup of tea.
I closed the door to my office quietly, and locked it, before shoving my key back into the pocket of my trousers. Picking up my briefcase and organiser, I started to make my way down the dark, empty corridors. I wasn’t thinking about much, really- just that tomorrow I would head down to the detention centre and see what was what with the latest case I had been assigned to, I had heard they’d arrested someone and that there was a witness, but I didn’t know much about it really, I needed to go and pick up the case file…
My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice, calling to me.
“Prosecutor Edgeworth!”
My heart jumped, and I suddenly felt myself freezing up. I knew that voice. That thick, German accent; that soft, musical tone…
Slowly, I turned around. The man was walking towards me, and came to a halt in front of me, with a small smile. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Prosecutor Klavier Gavin.”
Oh my god. Bloody hell. It was Klavier Gavin, frontman of The Gavinners. And he was here…talking to me, a lowly prosecutor…
Although I would never admit it, I was a huge fan of The Gavinners. They rocked their instruments and created music while fighting for justice, on the streets and in the courts. They had fallen into some disgrace after that incident involving the guitarist, Daryan, last year, but…
“P-please to meet you.” I stammered, awkwardly. I could feel my cheeks prickling with heat. For God’s sake, Miles, not now! Keep it together, man! “May I…be of some assistance?”
“I could use a second opinion on the case I’m working on.” He told me. “I hear you are…ah…somewhat of a genius, ja?”
“You could say that.” I said, cooly, trying to stop my hands quivering. “What is it that you need help with?”
“Why don’t you step into my office?” He said, with a small smile. “We can discuss the issue in further detail there.”
I swallowed. Klavier Gavin was inviting me into his office…?
“Al…alright.” I mumbled, clearing my throat.
“It is this way…” He said, leading me down to the next corridor, to his room. Pulling out a key, he unlocked the door, and motioned me to enter first. I took a deep breath, and stepped in.
It was fantastic. His office was only the same size as mine, but he had somehow managed to make it feel bigger. Perhaps it was the fact that his desk was curved, taking up one corner, whereas mine sat in the middle of my office, taking up space. There was a huge bookshelf along one wall, and I was interested to see that his space was far less organised than mine. Well, I suppose he is a rock star.
“Nice office.” I found myself saying, casually, as he took a seat on a red swivelly chair, and scooted across to his desk. He motioned me to a long leather sofa.
“Have a seat.” He said, politely. Slowly, I moved over to the sofa, and sank down onto it’s leather cushions, feeling them creak under me as I did so. I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was in Klavier Gavin’s office…Klavier Gavin…he wanted help from me. I snuck a peek at him, trying not to stare. He was tall and lean, with broad, angular shoulders, and tanned skin, and his blonde hair was just as impressive in real life as it had looked in the pictures and on TV. I had heard a lot about this man, but apart from all the gossip, I most respected him for his work in court. He was a good prosecutor. He cared about finding the truth, and I admired that.
“Can I get you a drink?” He offered.
“A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.” I replied. To my surprise, he muttered something to himself in German, as he rolled over to the kettle. He obviously had mistaken me for someone who had lived in England all their life. He wasn’t to know how much time I had spent in Germany, with the von Karmas- Manfred von Karma, my mentor, and Franziska von Karma, my little sister…well, sort of. Anyway, the upshot was that I could understand what he was saying.
“Ah, English men and their tea…” He muttered, in German.
“I believe tea is popular in Germany, too.” I replied, my German just as fluent as his. It was his turn to look surprised now, as he glanced up at me.
“You speak German?”
I inclined my head. “A little.” I said, modestly.
“That is…most impressive.” He said, in English, with a small smile.
“Thank you. It is kind of you to say so.” I replied. Inside, I was brimming over with excitement. I had impressed Klavier Gavin.
“Anyway, this case…” He said, as he rolled over to me with a cup of tea, which I took gratefully, then rolled back over to his desk to continue sifting through case files. “It is…somewhat of an issue for me, in that I cannot decide which angle I should take in court. You see, I know the opposition, and I know that they will counter with everything they’ve got-“
“You can say that again…” I muttered, sipping my tea.
“-And I desire to know which way I should attack their defense. The case is a murder, the defendant, a young woman by the name of Adrian Andrews.”
I don’t know why I was surprised, but I was. Adrian Andrews? A killer? Somehow, I doubted it.
“There was a witness…” He continued. “…A Miss Wendy Oldbag-“
“Oh God, not her…” I couldn’t help muttering. He glanced up at me.
“You know of the woman?”
“You…could say that.” I replied, awkwardly, deciding not to tell her that she was president of my fanclub. The woman practically stalked me. “Actually, I know both the women in question…”
He looked at me a second longer, then nodded. “I should not be surprised. You are, after all, the best in your field.”
“…After you, of course, Mr Gavin.” I said politely, with a nod of my head. He smiled.
“You are modest, I see.”
“Only as modest as I should be.”
He paused for a second, then picked up the case file, and rolled over to me, sliding off his chair and onto the sofa next to me. He kicked out at the spinny chair with one leg, and sent it rolling back across the room. He opened the file again, and laid it on my lap.
“You see here, Herr Edgeworth…” He said, in a soft voice. He was sitting kind of close to me. I wriggled uncomfortably, unsure what to do. He pointed out the witness statement in the file. “She saw the defendant at the scene of the crime…”
“…Carrying a bloody dagger.” I finished, as I quickly scanned the report. “Yes. That would seem to be powerful evidence for your case.”
“Indeed.” He said, voice still as silky as ever. “Undoubtedly, they will counter this accusation with claims that she was carrying the dagger for some other reason- perhaps because she was the first to discover the body…”
“Indeed.”
“How should I…respond to this defense?”
I paused. “…Is the blood on the dagger that of the victim?”
“Ja.”
“And the dagger matches the stab wound on the vitcim’s body?”
“Precisely, ja.”
“…I think you would do well to point both of these facts out to the court.” I said, demurely. “Also, I would make the point that she would have had to have pulled the dagger out of the body in order for her to be holding it, covered in blood.”
“Ja…this is what I was thinking also.” He said, with a nod, as he leant a little closer to me. I cleared my throat, feeling myself blush again. Klavier Gavin was sitting very very close to me. His eyes were so clear and blue…This was bizarre. It was like being inside one of his music videos.
“I imagine…” I said, slowly, “That they will respond with the idea that she was trying to cover for someone by removing the evidence. She will be charged with tampering with the crime scene and obstruction of justice, but these are far less serious than the charge of murder.” I cleared my throat again as he nodded, his hair tickling my arm. “Who…who do you think they will try to pin the crime on?”
“There…was allegedly another woman at the scene of the crime.” He said, softly. “However, we have been unable to establish her identity, or track her down.”
“I see. Well then, I would suggest taking the line that there is no evidence that this notional second woman even exists, let alone whether she was at the scene of the crime.”
He nodded. “I see. Yes, I also think that this would be the best line to take.” With a small smile, he leaned over to pick up the file again. I swallowed as his fingers brushed my leg, and then he was standing up, striding back across the office to place the file back on his desk. “I thank you very much for your assistance.” He said, with another smile. His teeth were so straight. “You have been most helpful.”
I nodded politely. “I am glad of it.” I said. “Thank you for the tea.”
He laughed. “You are most welcome, Herr Edgeworth. You must come back for tea another time.”
I could only nod.
“Meanwhile, I imagine you would be heading home now. It is, after all, getting late.” He said. I glanced up at the clock that hung on his wall, and realised he was right.
“You are correct.” I said. “I should be going now…”
“You are most welcome if ever you wish to drop by again.” He said, opening the door for me, and flashing me another smile. I stumbled, and almost tripped over my feet.
“Er, yes, well, indeed. Verily.” I mumbled, awkwardly, as I stepped out of the door. He smiled again.
“It was a pleasure talking with you….Herr Edgeworth.” He said, and then he closed the door, and was gone. I was left standing in the corridor alone, heart beating excitedly, with the memory of Klavier Gavin, hero of stage and courtroom, playing fresh in my mind. Wait until Kay hears about this…
I take no responsibilty for this but I LOVE IT.
One of fave moments of Turnabout Crossover.