47 When Love And Hate Collide

A/N: The OC of Jilly Baxter was used with permission by my friend and terrific writer, 6Gun_Sally. She is seen in Sally’s Miles Edgeworth fan-fic called Turnabout Honeymoon amongst several others. 

“If two past lovers can remain friends, they are either still in love, or never were.”

Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye
Interpol Offices, Borginia
August 7, 2024, 3:35 PM

Miles prided himself on always being able to keep his cool. He was renowned for being the ever-sane, logical – although breviloquent– voice of reason in most situations. Considering the company he’d kept for the past near-decade: a tempestuous fiancée; an emo head case for a best friend; a bumbling, albeit good-hearted, occasional masochist detective partner; and a childhood friend who was more often than not a shameful, good-for-nothing blight on the face of humanity – it was the result which was equal parts nurture as well as a prerequisite!

For Pete’s sake, just four or five years ago, he’d been accused of murder, (again!) on an airplane and subsequently accosted for the heinous crime he’d been innocent of! And then he’d needed to do all the investigations himself while ascertaining the true perpetrator in order to prove himself blameless, to boot!

In hindsight, however, he did judge himself somewhat for being so distracted by the prominently exposed cleavage and asinine ear-to-ear grin of the actual culprit, Cammy Meele, that he’d failed to notice a dead giveaway to her culpability;  her soulless, darker-than-Satan’s eyes were so black, they had no pupils!

And somehow, he’d still managed to maintain his levelheadedness completely!

In short, Miles Edgeworth was ever the turn-to, level-headed man; the voice of reason in any sort of crisis, or unexpected situation.

These were the thoughts that were rapidly flying through his mind at the moment – to little avail whatsoever! – as the normally unruffled cravat-wearer now found a visible sweat forming over his brow, mouth still gaping in astonishment, at the impromptu sight of his former lover after almost ten years.

It was just his ill fate to be caught completely off guard like this! He’d somehow missed out on his former flame’s debut back to society after being sprung from prison five years ago. That had been the night at The Borscht Bowl when the rest of his friends had seen Lana, along with Ema, at the crowded bar for Maya’s 21st birthday. The Skye sisters had dropped by their table to say hello but he and Franziska had been too busy tearing it up on the dance floor when this had occurred. Then, as his rotten luck would have had it, by the time he and his fiancée had returned to the group, both sisters had been gone. At the time, Miles had been beyond relieved – what sane man ever wished for his past and present lovers to ever come within the vicinity of each other? – especially since the fiery Lady Von Whippingberg had already used her whip enough that night! He’d furtively cast a silent thank-you to the mysterious forces of the universe for having dodged such a proverbial bullet – for there had already been enough drama that night!

Ergo, the barrister hadn’t seen his ex since the verdict of her fate had been declared at that trial. The one he’d left the country soon afterward to try and forget. The one where he’d had to detach his mind from his heart, and been forced to prosecute his one-time boss and quondam paramour for murder!

Luckily, thanks to Phoenix, the erstwhile half of the Legendary Duo had been found innocent of that crime, but the same horrible case surrounding the murder of Detective Bruce Goodman had resulted in both Lana’s lover and herself being incarcerated, although for lesser crimes.

Consequently, this was the first time that Miles had set eyes on the woman who had gotten under his skin, fired up his blood, and relentlessly fueled his lust, in nearly ten years. He supposed she was in her late 30’s now, but despite her brief stint in prison, there was no roughness or hardness to her face. Quite the contrary. The years had been most incredibly kind to her, even if life hadn’t.

Even after all this time, despite now pushing 40, his former paramour had somehow maintained her model girl face and figure. She was still as striking as any Hollywood starlet, although her feminine muscled frame was more comparable to an action star than that of the typical svelte leading lady. The Lana Skye he’d known had been a force to reckon with at work, but after hours, there had been sweet bashfulness side to her, vacillation in her movements, and a softness in her voice.

The anterior Chief Prosecutor’s gait now exuded the wisdom of age and confidence of someone nearly a decade older.

She was the kind of woman that other women loved to hate.

Over flawless bone structure, her skin was a champagne rose, fair with a hint of golden beneath, with a rosy color dusting high cheekbones. Her peach business suit complemented her coloring nicely, making her look every bit the poised professional. However, in his mind’s eyes, just as clearly as if it’d been yesterday, he could easily remember her bare-faced and wearing sweats, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail while lounging on her couch during one of his clandestine visits.

Her shoulder-length hair was a lovely whiskey, interwoven with gilded and ginger lights. He’d always admired how such a tint could glimmer in the sun, along with the contagious, prideful grin that would always light up her sparkling eyes whenever she’d solved a case or apprehended a criminal.

It was predestined she was a woman who never garnered a double-take; the first look always lasted too long, and then it was impossible to ever turn away. Hers was a hypnotic allure that held your erratic heart with just one gaze, rendering you helpless to her spell.

But by now, he had learned that appearances were deceiving, especially with Lana. She was a siren that beckoned unsuspecting sailors to their watery graves – beautiful, yet dangerous.

He made the mistake of peering into those familiar orbs, all too vividly recalling how alluringly she would bat those lush lashes so they appeared to flutter butterfly wings. And every time she did so, his thoughts would always echo the same sentiment they were right now.

My God, her eyes are simply spellbinding.

Those unforgettable orbs were now staring back into his, with a mixture of undisguised curiosity and surprise.

The twin jewels were the shade of churning, passionate green that the ocean turned during a storm. That same viridian color brought back every one of life’s exquisite bitter and sweet memories, no matter what had happened. Looking into those eyes, he could see it. And he knew that she could as well.

She was right there, barely several yards away, but in her understated glamour, she may as well have been a beckoning sex goddess in a rock music video.

She is the semblance of soul fire radiating against the ice.

It was too much. He needed to shift his sights away.

It was within the next instant, when he needed to divert his gaze and direct it down because he knew he needed to stop staring, that the chaos began.

“Miles!” His fiancée’s sharp tone shattered his reverie. “Was zum Teufel is the matter with you? Are you not going to introduce yourself?”

God’s elbow! How could he have been so distracted by his pitiful ogling of another woman that he’d forgotten the indomitable standing by his side, even momentarily?

Franziska. Love of his life. His gorgeous wife-to-be. Mother of his unborn child … who had never met the other woman standing before them till now.

Yet there he was, gazing upon Lana like the besotted fool she’d once taken him for! He turned his head and found his lover’s amethyst gaze narrowed at him in suspicion. That accursed feminine intuition. Somehow, his lover knew something was awry, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

He had to nip things in the bud. Now. This could lead to nothing but disaster otherwise. Within the blink of an eye, his unspoken past had come colliding with his present, his future, with the force of rocketing comet.

Miles had zero desire to be a victim of the impact.

“Oh, should I say reintroduce yourself, Herr Edgeworth?” Franziska’s piercing, unwavering eyes hadn’t moved from his visage. “Because it is quite obvious that the two of you already know each other, nein?”

“Indeed, we do, meine Dame.” He cleared his throat and dragged together the rags of his composure. “I er, used to be under her.”

Four pairs of eyes gawked at him. There was dead silence in the room.

Lana regarded him steadily without even blinking, her expression remaining impassive despite the blunder, although a small muscle twitched under her right eye.

“I mean, she worked on top of me!” Miles amended hastily, hating how at the moment, he sounded every bit the blathering fool Phoenix Wright could often be! He felt his face burning as he realized belatedly just what he’d said.

“Phrasing!” Squawked Kay’s voice from the other end of Lang’s phone. Everyone nearly jumped at the sound, as they’d forgotten she was still on the line.

The German beauty’s eyes narrowed into little slits.

“Worked together … In the office, I mean! Only in the office!” He added desperately. “Ah…to be clear, Lana used to be … my superior, Franziska. She was the Chief Prosecutor in the days of my early career, you see.”

“Nice save, Mr. Edgeworth!” Kay praised, her voice ringing loud and clear against the deafening silence of the room.

Mercifully, it was the Yatagarasu’s ill-timed, yet somehow still fitting interruption which saved Miles from doing further damage, and allowed Lang to be the first to recover from the tension.

The Agent cleared his throat.

“Um, apologies, Kay, I’d forgotten you were still there. Agent Skye, on the line we have Agent Kay Faraday, who will be assisting us with the behind the scene investigations of this sting operation.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance!” Kay sang cheerfully. “Well sort of, anyway…”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Kay,” Lana called, before she strode over to Franziska and Lang, extending her hand first to the Wolf Man, while graciously inclining her head towards Miles with a polite, sideways smile.

“How nice to see you again after all this time, Prosecutor Edge- er, Miles.”

She then turned to Lang before the legist could react – for which he was most grateful, as he still didn’t trust himself to speak again.

“And it’s good to finally meet you, Agent Lang.” Lana’s pitch was one of perfected amiable professionalism. “It’s about time I got to see the face behind the voice giving me instructions over the phone! And you … must be Franziska.”

She turned and offered her hand to the stony-faced Frau, who eyed her suspiciously for an uncomfortable moment before extending her own.

“I’ve heard so much about you.”

“That is quite interesting, indeed,” Franziska retorted, her smile acidic as she retracted her palm and crossed her arms across her chest. “Considering this is the first time either myself or my fiancé,” she added pointedly. “Have heard a thing about you! Where in the world have you stownlins been located this whole time, Lana?”

The brunette’s poise slipped a notch but she quickly recovered.

“Oh, how lovely! The two of you are engaged?” She inquired expectantly, gesturing to Lang and the other woman with a pleasant smile. “Well, congratulations to the happy couple, then!”

“No, not him!” Franziska shot Lana a look of unprecedented disdain. “I was referring to your former subordinate.”

She reached over and wrapped a possessive hand around the barrister’s shoulder, in what appeared to be a loving gesture but he could feel her sharp nails digging into his skin and barely kept from wincing.

“I am betrothed to Miles.”

The former detective blinked in surprise.

“Oh! My apologies for the mistake,” she murmured, dropping her eyes in embarrassment for a moment before raising them to meet her ex’s face, her countenance now unreadable. “However, my sincere best wishes to you both.”

“Thank you, Lana.”

The logic genius forced a smile whilst wishing he was somewhere – anywhere! – but there at that moment. Franziska was undoubtedly leaving permanent talon marks on his arm, right through the fabric of his suit, all the while smiling benignly at the other woman.

“Aren’t you sweet?” His fiancée purred, in a dangerous voice Miles knew all too well. “But bromide niceties asides, let us return to my question, hmmm? In what clandestine location has Lang been hiding you, Lana?”

She raised an eyebrow at the Agent and Detective Badd.

“Moreover, why have we heard neither hide nor hair about it? At the very least, I do hope the good Detective has been taking good care of you?”

“As I mentioned, Agent Skye has been going through specialized training in preparation for this mission, under my direct orders and Badd’s tutelage, for some time now,” Lang replied gruffly. “Not that I recall ever needing to run my operational procedures by you, or secure your permissions, Agent Von Karma.”

“I never thought you did,” Franziska answered smoothly, seemingly unfazed by the cautionary edge to his voice. “Still, as one of your top Agents, as you indicated, it still would have been nice to know who the bimbo working alongside my fiancé was going to be – or at least have notified either of us that there would even be one!”

There was another tense silence.

God’s knuckles! Miles thought in disbelief, stunned at his betrothed’s behavior. Meine Dame is truly out for blood! Without even having an inkling of our history, she already has it in for poor Lana … I’ve never even heard of such a case of hate at first sight till now!

“Bimbo?” Lana echoed incredulously, her voice never raising but the warning glint in her eye was unmistakable. “I beg your pardon?”

“Um, yeah…on that note, I think I’m going to go now, Agent Lang…” Kay said uncomfortably. “Smell ya later!”

She quickly hung up before he could reply.

“Ah…that may be my fault, Agent Skye!” Lang interjected quickly, obviously anticipating chaos as the two women glared at one another. “When I was explaining your role at Edgeworth’s side for this undercover role, I mentioned that you would be the arm-candy companion to his billionaire playboy front. I assure you, she meant to say…fake bimbo of course!”

He shot an irate look towards Franziska.

“Didn’t you, Agent Von Karma?”

Franziska’s arms remained crossed across her chest and she remained stubbornly silent.

“Lemme get the stylist and hairdresser.” Badd was keen to avoid any sort of catfight or gainsaying. “I told them to be here for four o’clock and it’s five minutes to the hour. They’ll need clearance to get into the building, so I’ll go intercept them at the main entrance. Franziska, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Come along with me so we can do some catching up.”

It was an order, not a request.

There were few people, Miles’s fiancée included, who didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of intimidation of the threatening-looking flatfoot when he turned the heat up. Despite her sulky expression, Franziska wisely obliged and followed the big man out the door.

“A stylist and hairdresser?” Lana queried the moment they’d left. “Whatever for?”

“For your makeovers, of course!” The Agent told them, as if they already should have known. “We ordered the best in the business! You and Pretty Boy here will be going to a flashy shindig at some shady character’s mansion tonight. We don’t know if Wa Sing Ku is the head of the smuggling ring or not but he’s a notorious recreational pusher of illegal stuff nonetheless. We’re hoping if you rub elbows with the right people, he can steer you towards the head guy behind the contraband we’re seeking.”

“Makeovers?” She echoed blankly. “Shindig?”

“Pretty boy?” Miles arched a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Yes, and they’re only going to make you even prettier, Iron Man,” the Wolf Man derided with a smirk, before turning to Lana with a more sincere expression. “You see, we’ve decided we’ve been going about this all wrong. Instead of trying to go from the outside, trying to get inside information, we’ve decided to go straight into the lion’s den, essentially. Keep you guys in plain sight of the criminals, so to speak, and mingle amongst them as regular citizens, hopefully gaining their trust so they can hopefully steer us towards the head honcho.”

“Just so I understand, we’re going to the swanky soirée of some rich bad guy, who probably isn’t the big boss, in vain hopes that he’ll somehow lead us to the Kingpin?” Lana said slowly. “And you’re telling us right now, at the near eleventh hour, that our debut as said billionaire playboy and arm candy will be tonight?”

“That’s exactly it,” Lang affirmed, nodding.

“A little more notice might have been nice,” Miles stated dryly, still unamused at the nicknames he’d been bestowed. “This hardly gives me much time to shop for said billionaire playboy ensemble.”

He gestured to his magenta suit.

“Shall I assume this won’t suffice?”

“I’d probably need a party dress for this ball,” Lana chimed in worriedly. “And much like Cinderella, I haven’t a thing to wear!”

“Relax, both of you,” Lang glanced up at the doorway and saw Badd and Franziska had returned just then, a pretty, plump woman in her late 20s and a slender, slightly older Hispanic man in tow. “Here come your fairy godmothers right now.”

“Was that a gay joke, Lang?” The Latino quipped, flashing an impish grin as he walked up to Miles and Lana, dragging his large, wheeled suitcase behind him. “Because I will have you know that it’s very stereotypical to assume all clothing stylists are same-sex preferring!”

“Then explain that outfit,” Lang snickered, clapping the man on his back, while Miles barely concealed a smirk at the truth behind the words as they assessed their new arrival’s ensemble.

Carlos was maybe an inch or so shorter than Miles, with a slight build. He was in his mid to late ’30s, with friendly, twinkling hazel-brown behind chic, wire-rim glasses. His dark brown hair was cut in a faux-hawk, and he wore fitted, low riser jeans with a tight, black graphic T-shirt that sported the baby blue Iron Man circular emblem, with Tony Stark’s smug, shades-wearing black and white visage over it. Around the circular emblem read the words, GENIUS, BILLIONAIRE, PLAYBOY, PHILANTHROPIST Club.

“But I’m not gay!” The stylist glanced down at his attire and appeared mortally wounded. “Just … slightly metrosexual!”

Metrosexual? Miles’ brow furrowed at the unfamiliar term. Didn’t Larry once tell me that’s just a gay guy who can’t get laid?

“Bah, same difference,” Lang shrugged, shooting the stylist his most shit-eating grin. “Edgeworth, Agent Skye, meet Carlos Moledo, celebrity stylist to the stars.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the latest Interpol recruit smiled and extended her hand. “Also, Carlos, Agent Lang, it’s after hours. Please call me Lana.”

“High Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth,” the chess enthusiast extended his hand but refused to offer the other man the same informal addressing option. He had to attempt to retain his cool somehow, after all. The more formal, the better, as far as he was concerned. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moledo.”

“Miles!” Squealed the hairdresser, dropping her suitcase behind her in her haste to rush up to him and wrap her arms around him in an effusive hug. “I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long!”

“I beg your pardon?” He struggled to sound polite while attempting to disentangle himself from her suffocating embrace, all too aware of his stony-faced fiancée arching an eyebrow in the background. “Excuse me, but do I know you, Miss…?”

The woman pulled away then, looking slightly hurt as she placed lacquered plum hands on her ample hips.

“Miles Edgeworth! You honestly don’t remember me? You, me, Phoenix, Larry – we all went to grade school together! It’s me, Jilly Baxter!”

Jilly Baxter? He shuffled through his early memories of elementary school. Ah, yes, the one who went to the senior prom with Butz only to have things end disastrously! I seem to remember Butz blathering about that at some point. And didn’t Wright…?

“Your buddy Phoenix, the kid with the spikes, had a huge crush on me and used to embarrass himself all the time trying to get my attention?” Jilly prompted, eying him hopefully. “Does that ring a bell?”

Yes, Wright was as smooth with the ladies back then as he is now! Miles chortled inwardly to himself. How he lucked out and wound up with fragile, ethereal beauty like Miss Fey is still beyond me!

“It’s all coming back to me now. I apologize, Miss Baxter.” Miles smiled courteously at the dark blonde woman, who although had gotten a tad heavyset over the years, still had the same contagious smile and charming disposition of the girl he’d once known. “I did change schools in the middle of fourth grade, so while it is indeed nothing but pleasant memories, I have of you, it has been far too long, and so it did take an extra moment for them to resurface.”

“Well, I know all about you, Mr. Big-Shot Prosecutor,” Jilly teased, her green eyes dancing. “My salon may be situated over in Hollywood, but news travels fast in Southern California!”

“I’m flattered.” Miles gave a humble smile. He’d had no inkling that law matters were of any interest in the hair community. “So, you work at a salon in Hollywood you say?”

“I’m the owner of a full-service salon and blow-dry bar on Rodeo Drive – it’s part of a huge nationwide chain, perhaps you ladies have heard of them?”

Jilly turned to Lana and Franziska.

“The franchise is called You-Blo-Me?”

“Sorry, can’t say I’m familiar with it,” Lana responded with a miraculously straight face, while Franziska merely snorted and muttered something under her breath about foolish Americans with their foolish, undignified names for everything.

“I have!” Carlos piped up, then flushed as everyone turned to look at him. “Everyone and their mothers know about You-Blo-Me! It’s a world-famous chain and one of the many businesses owned by the famous Beaugosse family! All the celebrities get blown there!”

I think this is yet another case of where Kay would yell ‘phrasing!’ Miles sniggered to himself. Also, not doing much to quell the gay stereotype assumption there, my friend!

“I mean, getting a blow-out…hairstyle… of their hair,” the stylist corrected himself, turning even redder. “In fact, that’s how Jilly and I got this gig! I do the styling for Brad Pitt and Jilly has been blowing him since his long hair days…”

Oh, for the love of the saints! There’s no way he’s not doing this on purpose! Lana and even Franziska bit back a smile at that one. Miles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering. Lang and Badd were only partially successful. Seriously, again with the phrasing?!

“But now that she’s doing Angelina Jolie – I mean, her hair, too, the news just traveled over to us, and here we are!” Carlos finished lamely, staring at the ground with reddened cheeks as he, at last, realized their reactions.

“Would you go as far as to say, the carried winds blew about the news about you and Jilly’s talents?” Badd deadpanned.

Miles bent over then, quickly masking his guffawing as a cough while Lang flat out howled and the two women stared intently at the carpet, their long hair hiding their faces, although their shoulders were shaking with mirth.

“Old Brad must be quite the blowhard then!” Lang tittered. “I mean, the news of your skills was blown all the way up here!”

“OK, OK, that’s enough guys!”

Jilly took pity on the clueless stylist and finally intervened, smothering back one last giggle while she shook Lana’s hand.

“I know I didn’t introduce myself yet, but I know you must be Lana,” she smiled. “I was told you have a single bathroom and free office space in the back, so please follow me. You too, Miles. Come along Carlos! It’s time to fire up the glam squad!”

As she led them away, Jilly tossed an amused look over her shoulder at Badd and Lang.

“By the way, Brad’s always gotten hefty flack for being such a pretty boy – for the longest time he fought to deny the very true rumors about using women’s shampoo,” she added wryly. “Ergo, regarding the fact that I used to blow … dry Mr. Pitt’s then-lustrous, long locks for longer than I have been styling the lovely Ms. Jolie’s, I trust that’s news you’ll keep confidential, please?”

The men nodded imperturbably, then turned to Franziska.

“Well, they’ll be gone a few hours, easy!” Badd jibed. “They’ve got to somehow make Lana look attractive!”

“I’d venture they’ll be moiling until at least nightfall,” Lang drawled indolently. “After all, they’ve been tasked with the strenuous job of making Edgeworth look like a pretty boy!”

The men snorted derisively at their shared japing, while Franziska affixed them with her most icy stare, completely unimpressed with their attempted wit.

“And just what are we supposed to do while my fiancé and that … Schlampe,” she spat. “Sashay off to enjoy the pampered celebrity treatment?”

The Agent and Detective wisely opted to ignore the apoplectic connotation behind the words.

“I guess we can go over our action game plan with Kay in the meantime,” Lang offered. “Seriously though, Ane-san, that already man-pretty fiancé of yours shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. What say we all go out to dinner with him when he’s done his transformation? I imagine Lana will take longer simply because even looker dames take a dog’s age to get gussied up!”

“Humph!” The German woman crossed her arms and scowled darkly. “I know you fools were being facetious about Jilly Baxter having her work cut out for her with Lana, but I imagine making her resemble a bimbo will hardly be much of a stretch!”

The men exchanged exasperated looks.

“What the heck is your problem with our new hire, Franziska?” Badd finally demanded, narrowing his eyes. “She’s a good kid. Besides, you told me you and Edgeworth are engaged now and expecting. Who cares that Agent Skye isn’t unfortunate-looking? Her not being a member of the Kennel Club was one of the reasons she was hired for this gig! Nothing to get your nose out of joint over. Far as I can tell, she was his boss and nothing else!”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” Lang demanded incredulously. “Not when you’ve got his rock on your hand, his bun in the oven and she’s a good decade or so older than you! How much more reassurance do you need?”

Franziska flushed and gave a rueful smile at having her childish antics called into glaring light.

“I am being a fool, ja?” She professed guiltily. “But I cannot help being unnerved! Did neither of you see the way Miles reacted to her? He was gazing at her like a foolish, love-struck schoolboy!”

Lang had already started walking ahead of them without bothering to respond. For him, the conversation was officially over.

“Come on, guys.” He gestured to the back office. “Let’s go call Kay and go over our roles tonight!”

“Listen, to me, Franziska. You’re overthinking the whole thing with Edgeworth.”

Badd gently took the former prosecutor’s arm and pulled her back for a moment.

“Miles’s reaction… what you’re describing is nothing more than shock, kid,” he said kindly, popping his ever-present lollipop into his mouth. “That’s all it was. Give the poor guy a break! It’s got to be the weirdest odds ever, what with meeting his old boss and childhood friend on the same day, at the same time – across the world!”

I still couldn’t help but notice that he had less of a reaction when he saw his old mate Jilly whom he hadn’t seen since he was nine than he did when he saw his old boss! Franziska noted ominously. And Miles best have one hell of an explanation for that when I get my hands on him later…

Def Leppard – When Love And Hate Collide