11 Turnabout Triumph
Franziska Von-Edgeworth and Maya Fey-Wright
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 3:00 AM
“Ema has got to be the luckiest girl in the entire world that Bill Thigh, The Science Guy, actually agreed to see her backstage, especially after the stunt you pulled with the gigantic blow-up dong on his colleague!” Maya tittered as she and the still extremely tipsy Franziska entered the elevator in the lobby. “I do believe his exact words were, ‘I will talk to the cute brunette in the lab coat, but I am staying far away from her scary, dick-wielding, friend’!”
“Humph! I agree with the context if you did not know what he was referring to is amusing, somewhat,” Franziska conceded, trying to look irritated but failing as she too dissolved into giggles. “What a cowardly foolish fool of a man to be afraid of a woman of such small stature as me! As if anyone, in the history of mankind, had ever been severely injured by an inflatable phallic-shaped object!”
“Only their pride!” Maya couldn’t stop laughing. “I almost feel sorry for poor Zorro! You’re quite the fearsome legend at The Ballroom now you know! Even though you made quite a different kind of lasting impression on Magic Ike…”
“Objection!” Franziska blushed. “It was due to my intoxicated state and emotional connection to the music playing at the time, that I took a temporary leave of my senses which resulted in my Dirty Dancing on stage with him! However, as far as my husband or anyone else knows, it never happened! And there is absolutely no evidence that ever did!”
She’d better hope and pray that Ema drunkenly erased that video footage off her cell phone at some point tonight! Maya bit back a knowing smile. My lips are zipped about all of it!
“You’re right – no evidence whatsoever,” the spirit medium replied serenely. “But for the record, you have earned the respect via fear method at that establishment! Your stage dancing partner notwithstanding, the rest of the entertainers are sure to steer clear at least 500 feet if they ever cross you in a dark alley!”
“They will if they know what is good for them!” The German woman shot back with a smirk as she leaned her somewhat shaky form against her friend for support. “Although, I suppose I can forgive Bill for making me sound like I was some sort of penis-sprouting transvestite, considering in the end, Ema did get her ring back from the black hole!”
“I hope she remembers to never spray that thing with Luminol in front of Klavier! She’d sure have a tough time explaining the evidence to her fiancé in that event!” Maya wiped away a straight tear of laughter from her eye. “Even though Ema got her ring back from the pits of hell, she still may need to scientifically investigate what cleaning compounds will be needed to make it spotless again, seeing as how it was covered in oil and glitter!”
“Shhh!” Franziska snickered and put her finger to her lips as they exited the elevator on the penthouse floor. “The whole case of the missing ring is supposed to be a secret among us girls, remember? We can’t ever let our husband find out about that!”
“There are a lot of secrets that came out tonight about our husbands that never need to see the light of day!” Maya flushed guiltily at the memory of the personal details she had divulged about her spouse. “The men wouldn’t be able to look each other in the eye again, ever!”
“Pfft!” Franziska scoffed, twittering madly as she fumbled with her keys in the lock. “What they do not know, will not hurt them, ja? A few harmless secrets in a marriage just add to the intrigue and overall mystique, I say!” She finally managed to get the door unlocked and pushed it open slowly, turning around and placing a finger to her lips again. “We should try to be über quiet. They are probably all asleep.”
Maya nodded and tiptoed in after her friend, casting an apprehensive glance around the condominium as Franziska quietly took off her shoes by the front door and flicked on the overhead light. Both women reflexively held their breath as they took their first glance around, and their jaws dropped open in shock at their findings.
The place was absolutely spotless!
There were no stains, spills, or not even a speck of dust in sight whatsoever, nor even a decorative knickknack even marginally askew. While the Kurain Master was extremely relieved, she was also beyond flabbergasted at the discovery that absolutely nothing was amiss. The place looked perfect…almost…too perfect?
Franziska appeared to be having the same thoughts.
“Well, what do you know?” She didn’t even attempt to mask the wonder in her voice. “The place is still standing and isn’t on fire! I’m impressed! I didn’t think they could do it!”
“I guess we underestimated them,” Maya murmured thoughtfully as she stepped into the dimly lit living room. She reached over to flick on the Tiffany lamp on one of the end tables and blinked rapidly, as it took a moment for her pupils to grow accustomed to the lighting in the formerly darkened room. As her eyes finally adjusted, the spirit medium sharply halted in her tracks and clapped a hand to her mouth at the sight that greeted her on the couch.
Gregory and Mila were presumably fast asleep in their own beds, so nestled on the sofa were Ace and Mia, each curled up in the fetal position at opposite ends, their slumbering heads resting against the buttery soft leather arm cushions, looking like two sleeping cherubs. Maya was immensely relieved that her children, although both dressed in strange, unfamiliar clothing, appeared to be peaceful and otherwise well-kept and cared for.
No, it most definitely wasn’t the discovered state of the Fey-Wright offspring that had Maya’s eyes nearly bugging out of her head! Coming up behind her, Franziska abruptly walked right into the dark-haired woman’s back and produced a startled gasp as she, at last, saw the same vision that had the Kurain Master’s shoulders now shaking with silent, hysterical laughter.
Sitting semi-slumped on the loveseat, propped up against one another, with each of their heads resting against the other’s for support, were Phoenix and Miles, both also completely dead to the world – and both sporting the gaudiest, God-awful, cosmetic calamities known to man on their visages!
Good Lord! What is this latest level of foolishness?! Franziska thought in disbelief. Did a makeup bomb go off on my husband’s face? How in Christ’s name are both my Miles and Phoenix wearing more makeup than Max Galactica and Moe the Clown combined?!
Maya could barely recognize her husband. Phoenix had always sported a healthy tan, neither too dark nor light, but a perfect golden hue that always contrasted beautifully with his dark hair and indigo blue eyes, which he, fortunately, managed to maintain year-round while living in sunny Los Angeles.
However, there was quite the glaring distinction between well-baked tan… And burnished carrot!
Maya couldn’t stop laughing as she discreetly reached into her bag for her cell phone and stealthily snapped a couple of pictures of her slumbering husband and best friend in their current drag queen gone wild state!
What the shit, Nick?! Your attempt to hide among that tribe of Oompa Loompas won’t work; we know you’re not naturally orange! Those dark pink blush circles on your cheeks against that faux tanned skin would make even Miss Piggy object! Ack! I’m not sure what’s scarier between those thick, floating caterpillar eyebrows and whitening around the eyes… those Tammy Faye Bakker spidery lashes…or….Jesus Christ – that paint-by-number eyeshadow…Gah! 1984 just called! It wants its electric blue eyelids back!
The silver-haired woman noted her friend snapping photos of the two men, but while amused, found it unnecessary because the image of her husband in his current state would be forever seared into her skull.
In contrast to his best friend, Miles was slightly fairer in complexion, and partially due to his long work hours and partially by choice, tended to avoid sun tanning, so that even now in his fourth decade, his face was very minimally lined with any signs of aging, something Franziska had always admired about her timelessly handsome husband.
At the moment though, she realized there was a huge difference between a fair-skinned face and one that was as alabaster as a cadaver in a morgue!
The chief prosecutor’s face was a canvas of snowy white, almost like a mime, over which he had heavily rouged, bright pink cheeks, the left one bearing a painted on, glittery pink star. Frosty, Barbie-esque pink lipstick covered his mouth, made three times its original size, like a circus clown. Franziska wasn’t sure which of her husband’s mismatched eyes was more of an outlandish beauty faux pas! On his left eye was such heavy black eyeshadow that it made him resemble the victim of a lost brawl in Fight Club! And on the right eye was what could only be described as blood red eyeshadow (the same one that had been used to fill in both his eyebrows into McDonald’s “M” rounded arches) that made him look positively sinister as if he’d just struck a deal with the devil himself!
“I have no idea what to say!” Franziska hissed into the still sniggering Maya’s ear. “People have always said my husband was a bit of a pretty boy… Albeit nowhere near Klavier’s league of course… But now looking at him made up like this, I wonder if he looks that bad?”
She must still be wearing her beer goggles! Maya stared at her friend incredulously. What is it they say, beauty is in the eye of the beer holder?! I love Nick, and I think he’s gorgeous but love is not blind in my case! I will be the first to acknowledge that in this current state…he and that normally very handsome best friend of his… Are the most damn ugly women I have ever seen in my whole life!
Franziska caught the flummoxed look on Maya’s face and completely cracked up.
“Just kidding!” She trilled, grabbing the phone out of the other woman’s hand and taking one more photo of the men for good measure. “You should have seen the look on your face, Maya! There is not enough alcohol in the world that would make me accept this new look, even if it indeed is a sign of my husband going through a midlife crisis!”
“He’ll be going through some sort of crisis, no doubt, once he sees these photos as a reminder that, pretty boy or not, he makes a hideous lady!” Maya crowed. “What on earth do you think happened here?!”
She had spoken louder than she intended, because at that moment Phoenix stirred slightly, yawned, and tried to grind the sleep out of his overly made-up eyes with his fists. The gesture only further smudged the heavy makeup around the dark blue orbs, making him resemble an overworked, retro 80s prostitute! He blinked groggily, then turned his head and spotted the two women.
At the sight of his wife, Phoenix all but leaped towards her, uncaring that the action made the dozing Edgeworth abruptly fall sideways onto the couch cushion and awaken with a curse.
“Son of a biscuit-maker!” He groaned, slowly pushing himself up back into a seated position and rolling his neck slowly, before glaring at his best friend, who was literally on his knees and wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist while he buried his grossly painted visage against her, uncaring about the makeup smears left behind on her skirt. “Thanks a lot, Wright!”
Phoenix didn’t even hear him; he was too busy essentially weeping tears of relief against Maya’s dress.
“Oh, my love, thank Christ you’re back!” He practically sobbed, lifting his head so Maya could see the humility and veracity in his expression, despite his huge, garish clown-mouth, made three times its original size in red. “I am so sorry for ever even implying, in any way, shape, or form that my job is more difficult than yours! You have the most difficult job in the entire world, without pay, often without thanks, without even credit at times and I was a fool to ever say or think otherwise, and I swear I will tell Apollo and any man that will listen, of my first-hand discovery this evening! I have been in your shoes for only one night, Maya, and I already most humbly beg your forgiveness to have ever underestimated just what an incredible superhero wife and mother you are!”
“Oh, Nick.” Maya was torn between laughter and sympathetic tears at her husband’s overly dramatic, but heartfelt speech. She tenderly brushed aside the stubborn lock of hair that always fell onto his forehead and smiled indulgently. “I don’t know what exactly happened tonight to bring you to this most delayed revelation, but better late than never, right? Of course, I forgive you!”
“You’re an angel, Maya Fey-Wright.” Phoenix remained on his knees as he looked up adoringly at his wife and mother of his children. “You are ever a saintly woman to pardon her daft husband for being a young and naïve fool with his previously clueless beliefs!”
“For the love of all that is holy, Wright pull yourself together and attempt to have some sort of dignity!” Edgeworth exclaimed, having, at last, realized that the women had returned. “I will not refute the fool part of that statement, but need I remind you that your allegedly young and naïve self made those imbecilic previous claims only several hours ago?”
“It felt like a lifetime ago!” Phoenix rose to his feet but kept his wife clasped tightly in his arms, like a drowning sailor clutching a buoy. He scowled at Edgeworth over his shoulder before turning back to look at Maya. “I swear, my love, I will do anything you ever ask, including giving you breakfast in bed every day for a month, just as long as you promise to never leave me again!”
“Wright,” Edgeworth grumbled, coming over to stand before his own wife and shaking his head at his friend. “Are you just about through with your groveling?”
“Don’t you dare pick on him for being man enough to realize the error of his ways, Herr Edgeworth, for I found the foolish fool’s heartrending soliloquy of defeat to be most moving and poignant!” Franziska drawled, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Might I add that at this point, a similar exercise of eating humble pie would not exactly hurt you, either, husband of mine, seeing as how you appear to be slightly worse for wear than Phoenix, solely based on the evidence of your facial war paint?!”
“I was not intending to pick on him in the least! I was merely inquiring, meine dame, if he was through with his expressing his unsurpassed humility, so that I might begin my own.”
Slightly more dignified, but looking equally as contrite as the defense attorney, Edgeworth humbly bowed before his wife before taking her hand, lifting it to his lips, and placing a kiss upon it.
“Wright seems to have taken the words right out of my mouth, so there is not much more I can add to that impassioned oration, Franziska. Yet I still know you deserve so much more than to have me merely say ‘everything he said, that goes double for me!” Edgeworth leaned over and gently pressed a kiss against her forehead. “All I can do is offer my own sincerest apologies if there was ever a time I made you feel unappreciated or unvalued for everything you do for me and our twins, who are so blessed to have you. In this mêlée of undermined, malcontented mothers versus unjustifiably misguided fathers, I have been slain in action on that battlefield and undone by my own words. I lay my sword at your feet, while I surrender in defeat and concede to the error of my ways, and hope that you will find it within your heart to pardon my sin for even briefly thinking that your job of wife and mother was child’s play compared to my own.”
Franziska blinked in surprise, obviously less accustomed than Maya to have her spouse humble himself in such a manner, but the love and gratitude in her eyes were unmistakable.
“Danke, Liebling,” she whispered, gently patting her husband’s starkly ashen cheek. “I accept your apology.” She looked over at the mercifully, still-sleeping children on the sofa and a slight line creased her smooth brow. “Hold on, isn’t that our daughter’s dress that Mia is wearing right now? And why is Ace swearing your cashmere T-shirt, Miles?”
“It’s quite late. You must be exhausted, meine Dame.” Instead of a response, Edgeworth swiftly lifted his wife into his arms and began heading down the hall towards the bedroom. “Allow me to be your gallant knight and escort you to your bed chambers so that you may rest your weary head. I wish you a good night Wright, Maya. Drive safe, and I’m sure you can see yourselves out, just make sure you lock the door before you pull it shut. Pleasant dreams!”
With that, the chief prosecutor practically raced out of the room, with his giggling wife cradled in his stronghold, leaving the highly entertained defense attorney and his equally amused spouse standing alone in the living room.
“Talk about your dramatic exit,” Phoenix chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulder.
“Both of you could have taught Shakespeare himself a thing or two on the chivalrous apology speech front!” Maya twittered, clapping her hand over her mouth so as not to wake the children. “While I am equally impressed at the ardor of both eloquent verses spoken by Sir Red Knight and Sir Blue Knight, I must confess, Miles downright astounded me tonight! I never thought I would live to see the day that the haughty Miles Edgeworth would ever admit to his follies, and in such a poetic manner!”
“Does that mean it sounded more impactful coming from him than me since I’m usually much more willing to admit when I’ve messed up?” Phoenix couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt. “You really know how to hurt a man, Maya!”
“Of course not!” Maya looked at him lovingly. “And I accept your apology, each and every time with my whole heart because that’s what you always apologize to me with. Yes, you are known to be a bit of a screw-up, at times, Phoenix Wright, but you’re my lovable screw-up! And I wouldn’t trade you or change a thing about you, for anything in the entire world!”
“You’re the best, Maya Fey-Wright.” Phoenix shot her a thankful grin. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a gem like you.”
“I also forgave you because holding a grudge is like letting someone live rent-free in your head, which just won’t do! That’s some a pretty valuable real estate I got going on up there!”
Phoenix cracked up then. His wife was truly one in a million, and no matter how old she got, underneath it all, she was still the same goofy, lovable teenager he had fallen in love with almost 20 years ago.
“There’s just one more thing to keep in mind that might make you feel better, Nick.” Maya’s dark eyes twinkled mischievously as she scooped up the sleeping Ace while her husband carefully lifted Mia off the sofa. “I’m way more easy-going and forgiving than Franziska is, which is usually not an issue for those two, since Miles doesn’t screw up anywhere near as often as you do! However, this also means he’s not gonna get off the hook as easily, either, with merely a simple apology! Keep in mind that it’s late and that the birthday girl is still pretty damn shit-faced right now! But mark my words, come tomorrow morning, when she’s no longer inebriated or distracted by his harlequin harlot impersonation, Miles is gonna have to make a one helluva of a grand gesture, not to mention, give one hell of an explanation for that new hack job of his!”
“So you did notice!”
“Hey, I was a designated driver tonight so I’m stone-cold sober! Of course, I noticed! I’ve always believed that you should treat people as you would like to be treated, karma is only a bitch if you are!” Maya giggled softly. “And when Franziska finds out the truth, her husband’s gonna get a really painful reminder of what her maiden name was!”
“I am certain that son of a biscuit-maker will be cursing his constant impudent yet unassailably perfect logic at that point!” Phoenix’s eyes were dancing with merriment as he leaned down and tried to kiss her, but she drew back slightly, laughingly shaking her head and wrinkling her pert nose.
“Back off, RuPaul! I refuse to let you kiss me again until you once again resemble the handsome man I married and not some slutty carrot!” Maya teased. “I don’t know if either one of you looked in the mirror at all Nick, but let’s just say Miles wasn’t the only drag queen who looked like a scary-ass clown whore tonight!”
Ema Skye
Skye-Gavin Residence, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 3:00 AM
Shit! I can’t believe how late it is! I promised Klavier I’d be home just after midnight so we could go over that case file together when I got home! He’s going to be so pissed! Ema stumbled slightly through her door and cursed her rotten luck. At least I got my ring back, so our stripper stake-out tonight wasn’t a total bust! Totally didn’t see that coming! Alcohol is an evil thing! I swear I am never drinking again!
Just as she was tiptoeing through the living room on the way bed, she heavily stubbed her bare toe against the heavy wooden cuckoo clock in the hall. She bit back a cry of pain and barely resisted the urge to give it a swift kick. The forensic scientist detested the damn noisy thing but was stuck with it, as it was a sentimental family heirloom that had belonged to Klavier’s grandfather.
At that moment, the accursed clock started up, and cuckooed three times! Ema’s eyes widened with panic.
Goddammit! This blasted thing is gonna rat me out!
Quickly realizing her fiancé could wake up, she thought fast and cuckooed another nine times, priding herself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution, to escape a possible conflict with him.
Even when totally smashed, 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos totaled 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!
Whew! Got away with that one! She giggled to herself as she staggered down the hall towards the bedroom. What my glimmerous fop doesn’t know won’t hurt him!
Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Gumshoe
Empire Bellagio, Los Angeles
Gumshoe’s Condo Suit 707
June 22, 2034, 3:10 AM
“Mmm…welcome home, honey,” Gumshoe mumbled drowsily as he heard his wife’s quiet footsteps padding into the bedroom. “Did everything work out okay with Ema and the ring…?”
The next thing he knew, the bedside lamp flickered on, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers at the sight of his lovely, but normally more modest wife, wearing a sexy as hell, Catwoman dominatrix costume! The police chief’s mouth went dry as all thoughts of sleep instantly vanished from his mind.
“Where did you get that?” He rasped.
“Just a little something I’ve had in the closet for a while that I finally felt like taking out for a spin.” Maggey purred, doing a little twirl so he could admire her curves, which were fully displayed in a leather, wet-look black bra with suspender straps, a crisscross strap bodice, matching booty shorts, fingerless gloves, and attached adjustable garters, including fishnet stockings. “You likey?”
“Me lovey!”
Gumshoe’s gaze hungrily devoured her as he took in the rest of the details of her ensemble. On her neck was a choker with a bell, and over her face was wet look cat mask, with kitty ears, and large cutouts for the eyes, so he could see the sultry expression within them, but other than that, it tightly encased her entire head and came down far on her face … All the way up to her nose.
“But, how are you breathing in that mask? That leathery/rubbery headpiece looks like it’s covering your nostrils, honey!”
That was the idea, Sir Farts a-Lot!
“No time for small talk!” Maggey lunged at him then and she produced a pair of silver handcuffs, which she spun around on her finger. “Look what else I happened to find when I looked in that closet!”
“Meow!”
“You may not be a Detective anymore, but you’re still technically a boy in blue!” There was a wicked grin on her face. “It’s Dick investigation time! There’s some barely concealed evidence to be found if you do a thorough body inspection…”
Adrian Andrews and Simon Blackquill
Andrews-Blackquill Residence, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 3:30 AM
The Twisted Samurai had been lying in blissful slumber in his bed, when all of a sudden, he felt a slight dip on the other side of the mattress as his fiancée crawled under the sheets and snuggled up to him.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” He murmured sleepily, then let out a startled gasp as he suddenly found himself being pinned down to the bed as Adrian grabbed his wrists and straddled him, a seductive smile flickering across her features in the pale moonlight streaming through the bedroom window.
“Oh, baby, I had a night to remember, all right!” She was already in the process of tearing open the buttons that held together his pajama top. “Now, take off that armor, Samurai, and run that katana blade of yours right through me!”
Ema Skye and Klavier Gavin
Skye-Gavin Residence, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 8:00 AM
“Guten Morgen, Fräulein Forensischer Wissenschaftler,” Klavier waved at his fiancée with the spatula he was currently using to stir whatever heavenly concoction he was making on the stove when Ema dragged herself into the kitchen the next morning. “Rise and shine! I made you a great breakfast so you’d be fully energized to go over that case file we were supposed to look at last night.”
He spooned some bacon and scrambled eggs onto a plate and presented it to her with a flourish, giving her a jaunty wink as he did so.
“You might appreciate the grease after your wild girl’s night out,” he said with a knowing smile as he turned back towards the stove to get his food, not noticing the steadily climbing blush creeping up Ema’s cheeks. “I passed out at around eleven or so but I thought you’d wake me up when you got home. What time did you get in last night, schätzchen?”
“Um… midnight.” She greedily chugged down the freshly squeezed orange juice he presented her then, grateful for the fact that the large glass temporarily masked her surely guilty-looking expression. “But you looked so cute and peaceful when you were asleep that I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”
“Well I don’t think I’ll take us too long to go over the files, perhaps an hour, or two, maximum.” Klavier brought his plate over to the table and sat down next to her. “Did we have anything else planned today besides that?”
“Not that I know of.” Ema tucked ravenously into her breakfast. Her fiancé was such a sweetheart! The greasy fare was exactly what her hungover ass had needed! “Did you have anything in mind, babe?”
“Indeed I do. I think we need to go shopping for a new cuckoo clock. It appears after nearly a century, my family heirloom is on the fritz.”
“Say what?” Ema’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Why would you say that?”
“Because the strangest thing happened last night,” the former rock star replied innocently, although there was a naughty glint in his blue eyes. “Our clock cuckooed three times, and then said, ‘Oh. Shit,’ cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table, and let out a fart that measured at least an 8 on the Richter scale!”
“Gah!”
“Achtung Baby!”
Klavier managed to thump his fiancée on the back just in time as Ema nearly choked on her home fried potatoes.
Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von-Edgeworth
Edgeworth’s Penthouse, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 8:15 AM
Edgeworth was jolted from his peaceful sleep by a combination of the loud pulsating sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” blaring from the bedroom wall speakers, as well as the harsh German obscenities being spewed at a rapid-fire pace by a very irate-sounding Franziska!
“Miles Edgeworth, get your foolish self out of that bed immediately and start talking!”
Egad, woman! What could be the problem now?!
The prosecutor was panicking as he shot off the sheets like a rocket. His heart thudded fearfully as he contemplated whatever could have gone awry. He’d been positive his now very wealthy butler had successfully removed any and all incriminating pieces of evidence from the night before!
Well, everything except for my and Gregory’s haircuts! An explanation which I was hoping she would be most understanding about when I told her about it! Of course, I thought it would be much, much later than this! I thought hungover people tended to sleep in?! It was practically dawn when I carried her to bed… Why is she even up already?!
Edgeworth could feel the blood draining from his face as he met his wife’s eyes across the room, which were narrowed into suspicious little slits.
“I woke up a few moments ago to answer the call of nature,” Franziska informed him, her trusty whip already in her hand as she glared at her husband. “Afterward, I thought I would peep in on my darling children, as they were innocently nestled in their beds. Imagine my reaction when I saw that my daughter was exactly in the same state as she had been when I entrusted her in your care… Yet my son … barely has any hair remaining on his head!”
Edgeworth gulped slightly. This morning, his wife was nothing like the giggly, sweet woman he had brought to bed the night before, who had then promptly passed out the minute her head had hit the pillow. He had taken for granted just how much of her benign behavior might have been contributed to the alcohol, which was no longer in her system!
“Well you see, it’s not as big a deal as you would think, meine Dame.” He tried to speak lightly. “Our son happened to get some gum stuck in his hair that had to be cut out, and was devastated when the hairdresser I called over to the house for the last-minute emergency told him it’d mean his fringe would no longer be on the longer side, like my own.” He offered a tentative smile when he saw that while his wife still appeared displeased, she no longer looked as homicidal. “It was my efforts to placate the boy that resulted in getting my own hair trimmed as well.”
The chief prosecutor ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, which he ruefully acknowledged his best friend hadn’t been lying about, and truly wasn’t anywhere as short as he had feared – the ends of his bangs fell just at his temples. He had finally taken stock of his new haircut when he’d been forced to look in the mirror while slathering on about a pound of Franziska’s cold cream to remove the ten-layers and ten-pounds of artifice from his face before he been able to come to bed. He shuddered at the memory.
My frightful face was surely the inspiration most nightmares are stemmed from! To think I’d been critiquing Wright for being the most repulsive woman I’d ever seen! My own Dame Edna transvestite appearance would’ve made beauty queens out of both of Cinderella’s grotesque, wicked stepsisters! Thank heavens there’s no tangible proof of the sorry state we were both in, all in the name of attempted good fatherhood!
“Er, do you find the cut pleasing, Franziska?” He asked apprehensively. “I do hope you are not too angry about the circumstances regarding our little moppet’s. Gregory really does look even more mature and handsome now, you’ll see what I mean when he wakes up.”
“I hope you’re telling the truth about our son, Miles.” While her tone was even and civil, Franziska remained tightlipped and stormy-eyed. “As for your hair, this morning when I woke up to the makeup-free, fetching face of the man that I had married, and not that of a ghoulish Geisha, I realized how partial I was to your new haircut. So I crept back into the room, put on some sexy, ah, mood music, and reached into our fun time drawer, hoping to give you a special surprise wake-up call with creative proof of just how much I liked your new look.”
If she accepted the explanation about Gregory’s new hair, and even appreciates mine, why does she still look like she wants to strangle me with that whip?! Edgeworth was completely lost. I simply cannot fathom her visibly irked state in the least!
Then his mouth went dry as he realized that his wife was presently standing next to their bedside table, with the bottom drawer flung open! She smirked as she saw the look of understanding slowly dawning upon his face.
“Imagine how I felt when upon looking inside and examining the contents of that drawer, I was the one who was surprised instead,” the former prosecutor said silkily, even though her gray eyes were like chips of ice. “Tell me, Liebling, do you also have an equally convincing explanation like you did for the haircuts… with regards to why our Bijoux Indiscreet Frisky Feather Tickler is now missing, along with the entire bottle of divine nectar raspberry lime body glide, and the handcuffs?!”
Edgeworth was speechless. He had momentarily forgotten about the telltale items that were no longer in that private drawer but had certainly intended to replace them as soon as possible… All with the intention that his wife would never find out about the missing erotic paraphernalia!
What are the odds that she would be feeling imaginatively amorous the morning after…when she’s supposed to be sleeping off a hangover?! It is unbelievable how last night cost me the same amount of hush money as it would take to buy a small third-world nation, but my exposure and ultimate downfall…was our sexual proclivities?!
“You have exactly 30 seconds and counting to explain yourself, Miles Edgeworth!” Franziska cracked her whip against the wooden bedpost with a sharp snapping sound and brandished it menacingly overhead. “Or else your access to the backyard will be forbidden for the next three months!”
Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey-Wright
Fey-Wright Residence, Los Angeles
June 22, 2034, 8:30 AM
“Nick, you’re spoiling me!” Maya laughed giddily as her husband presented her with a scrumptious-looking plate, containing fresh-cut fruit, blueberry flapjacks, drizzled with maple syrup, and breakfast link sausages. There was a single red rose placed on the tray the plate sat on, which Phoenix placed on his wife’s lap while she sat up in bed, beaming. “I never really expected you to make good on that offer of a month’s breakfast in bed! I thought if I ever called you on it, you’d tell me to sleep in the kitchen!”
“Now that wouldn’t be any way to treat the love of my life, would it?” The defense attorney placed a light kiss on his wife’s cheek and smiled lovingly. “Especially when I am honor-bound to show her how much I appreciate all she does for me and this family! I said it and I meant it, Maya. Every day for a month…or until you become sick of my pancakes, because you know that’s all I know how to cook!”
“Oh, I think I could suck it up and allow this butt-kissing breakfast in bed racket for at least a week!” She grinned impishly, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “Thank you, Nick. This is all so great. Are the kids still in bed?”
“Mia and I ate already, and Ace is still out like a light,” he informed her. “Our daughter is watching TV in the living room, but it seems our son is still worn out from last night – he didn’t even stir when I stripped off his expensive, Italian wool onesie and put on his diaper and PJ’s!”
“I’m assuming Miles doesn’t want that shirt back?” Maya giggled as Phoenix shook his head. “Suits me fine – I’ve always wanted to own something cashmere! However, I am so sorry that I forgot to leave you with the diaper bag when I took off last night, Nick.”
“I told you, my love, there’s no need to apologize. Edgeworth and I were being total asshats, and you girls took off in a huff because you were justifiably angry.” Phoenix shrugged and took a seat beside her on the bed. “It’s all water under the Dusky Bridge, OK?”
“If you say so.” Maya happily resumed eating her breakfast. “I just wish I knew what had happened yesterday to make you so willing to eat crow, Nick! Are you sure that nothing out of the ordinary occurred to bring out this unexpected Turnabout Humble Husband?”
“Maya, I will atone for last night, and my idiotic words, for as long as necessary,” he told her, looking slightly pained at the reminder. “However, I would prefer if the memories of last night, which brought me to the enlightened revelation of what being an Ace Mommy is all about, remain dead and buried if you don’t mind?”
“Sure thing.” Maya put the empty tray to the side, leaned over, and pecked her husband on the lips. “It’s nice to have things be back to normal, including having a spouse who no longer resembles Frankfurt from The Rocky Horror Picture Show!”
“It never happened!” Phoenix insisted, grabbing the tray and rising from the bed. “And there’s no evidence that it did!” His eyes were closed as he leaned down for another kiss, so he missed the knowing smirk on his wife’s face. “I think I hear Ace waking up on the baby monitor. I’m going to go check on him. You just stay put and relax for a bit.”
“You don’t need to ask me twice!” Maya stretched out luxuriously on the mattress and was about to browse through the Oh Cult! magazine sitting on her bedside night table when Mia suddenly entered the room.
“Good Morning, Mommy! You’re finally awake!” The little girl squealed, running towards her mother.
“I’m not a little rubber ball like you,” Maya smiled, extending her arms downward and lifting her daughter onto her lap. “I can’t just bounce back as quickly as you and your brother, so Mommy needs a little bit of extra rest so she can keep up with the two of you!”
“That’s OK. Daddy says we need to give you all the rest you need, and if me or Ace need anything today, we’re supposed to come to him and not bug you!”
“Mia, you never bug me!” Maya smoothed the silky caramel hair off the tiny, cherubic face as she kissed her forehead. “Your Daddy is just trying to make sure that he pulls his weight equally on the parental front, but if you ever really need anything and he’s busy, know that you can always come to me.”
“I was hoping you would say that!” Mia replied, suddenly looking very solemn. “Because right now Daddy is busy changing Ace, and there was something that’s been on my mind since yesterday. I’m hoping you can answer my question, even though you’re not a lawyer like Daddy because you used to be his legal assistant, right?”
“Right.” The Kurain Master nodded, slightly perplexed with her daughter’s suddenly somber tone. “I’ll do my best to try to answer, honey. What did you want to know?”
“I know Daddy would love it if I became a lawyer like he is when I grow up,” Mia began, looking slightly troubled. “And I thought that’s what I would want to do too! But there’s something I need to know first…”
“Yes?” Maya was downright weary now at the pensive look in the expressive brown eyes.
“Mommy, when a judge like Mel Practiss tells a lady attorney ‘I would not mind making a deeper inquiry right now, Misty Meanor’…” Mia tilted her head to the side and eyed her mother curiously. “And then he pops his head up her skirt and between her legs …. is he looking for some sort of evidence up there?”
Maya was so shocked by the question that she literally staggered and fell backward against the headboard with a heavy thud, her mind swirling at a million miles per hour as she tried to digest what she had just heard.
Mystic Ami help me!
“Mia Misty Fey-Wright!” She gasped, clutching a hand to her chest as she regarded her daughter with eyes the size of silver dollars. “Where on God’s green earth would you get the idea to ask me such a question?!”
“Well, Ace put on this movie that was in Uncle Miles’ DVD player yesterday, and it’s been on my mind ever since!” Unaware that she had just scandalized her poor mother to the very core, Mia shrugged helplessly, looking at Maya with inquisitive, earnest eyes. “So can you tell me, Mommy, is that what they mean by concealed evidence? And is that how they look for it? Because if so, I don’t think I want to be a lawyer at all!”
Maya literally could feel her blood pressure rising as she finally found her voice, and through a crimson haze now clouding her vision, let out a thundering bellow that shook the rooftop of their condominium and made poor Mia cover her little ears with her hands.
“Phoenix Gryphon Wright! Get your lying, no-good, irresponsible ass in here this instant!”
THE END
A/N: I fell in love with these four little mischievous house apes, I really did. The fate of Ace, Mia, Gregory, and Mila can be found in the epilogue of Filling The Void, the link which is here:
https://thejordanphoenix.com/fillingthevoid/chapter/epilogue-always-on-my-mind/
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