Just a Little Help Needed

Hey y'all! This is my first Phoenix Wright fanfiction, and my first one shot actually, now that I thin about it, I hope you guys enjoy, it does get a bit racy towards the middle in end, but nothing that'll damage your poor minds (too much ;))

Massaging his throbbing temples with base of his thumb, Phoenix Wright stared hopelessly at the mound of unfinished paper work that beckoned to his call. Why he always postponed junk like this to the last minute, he'd never know. Grimacing, he leaned back in his leather back chair and took a glimpse into the other room of the office. Maya, the younger sister of his former boss, had positioned herself in between two pillows, her eyes peering over their fluffy blue tops, fixated on the TV screen that was bound to be showing some silly children's show. To be young and carefree; Phoenix thought enviously, returning back to his awaiting mound of hell and torture. He ran his fingers up and down the mahogany fountain pen, feeling the grooves in the woodwork and turning it around carelessly in his hands. He couldn't take it anymore.

His eyes moved to and fro, making sure that Maya was still preoccupied with her TV show. While he wasn't one to typically go for a "drink", if you will, desperate times call for desperate measures, and he definitely needed something to warm his sinking belly. From underneath his cramped, overcrowded desk, he'd kept hidden a small vodka bottle and a shot glass, just for emergencies sake. Pouring himself a generous bit, he rapped his nails against the stiff glass, enjoying the high pitch sound that rung from its exterior. He eyed the small glass, trying to actually recall the last time he'd taken a drink; certainly not anytime recent for he'd always been near Maya, and didn't want to seem like a horrible influence. Shrugging this off, he then took a small swig and almost gagged at the bitter taste. I don't remember it tasting quite like that; Phoenix thought rather curiously, as he wrinkled his nose and placed the glass down on the desk, and picking up the first paper he saw in the stack. Reading the top line, he saw that it was o so generously from Edgeworth's office. Mumbling a slur of swears from under his breath, Phoenix continued scribbling in the required lines, hoping that some how he could get back at the bastard for sending him all this work.

"Hey Nick!"

Phoenix almost collapsed from his chair; gripping the arm rest, he started to get control of his heart, suddenly feeling about ten years older than he really was. How Maya kept up all this energy, he'd never know.

"Hey Maya, the show's over?" he asked, attempting to regain his composure.

Maya shook her head, "nope! It's just at a commercial break. Say, you wouldn't happen to have any barbeque chips would you? I've been craving those…hey, what's that you're drinking?" she inquired, poking the glass with her index finger. Phoenix jerked the glass away quickly; he didn't know exactly how tolerant Maya was to liquor, but he suddenly could envision himself behind bars for a few years for giving alcohol to a minor.

"It's just water!" he spouted, hoping this would deter her away from the glass. Noticing her befuddled expression that followed, he quickly continued, "I mean, the chips are in the cabinet back there," he covered. Maya, in her ADHD like manner, quickly brushed off the strange occurrence and skipped ecstatically along towards the cabinet, pulling out the giant bag of Frito Lay barbeque chips and helped herself as she skipped back to where the TV resided. Phoenix sighed, realizing that that could have gone a lot worse, but then quickly resumed working.

It wasn't long before the vodka had run through his system like…well, you know. Phoenix quickly raced from his chair and into the restroom, suddenly recalling the real reason why he didn't drink alcohol. After relieving himself, he walked out, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight that lay before him.

Maya.

She was standing, or rather, slouching over, with her knees wobbly and bent; her usually bright grey eyes glazed over and in her hand was the previously filled shot glass of vodka, now bone dry. He had to catch his falling jaw from slamming against the tile floor.

Damn.

His first instinct was to pry the glass from her grimy fingers, but since it was empty anyways, he dismissed the idea. Maya was the one to make the first move. His slumped back jerked upwards in one fluid motion, she clasped the glass in between her fingers, then tossed it onto the chair, it surprisingly not breaking, and she leaped with her back legs onto Phoenix, her tiny arms clinging onto Phoenix's shoulders.

He was going absolutely hysterical.

First underage drinking, now I might as well get charged for rape! He thought bitterly, not quite sure what to do next. He could see it now, Detective Gumshoe walking through the door, casually, more than likely coming to talk about the new case Edgeworth just won by a landslide, he'd step into the room, stop, and then arrest Phoenix on the spot. Swell.

Luckily for Phoenix, this didn't occur within the next few minutes, so it was safe to say that he was in good shape, though this didn't solve the drunken girl that had her arms wrapped around him.

Just stay calm, panicking is not going to help anything, just stay---!

"Maya! What are you doing?!" he gasped, taking a step back, but not enough to shake Maya's firm grasp. She giggled, and not like her usual giggle either, it was more…girly, and dare he say, "seductive"?

"What's it look like Nick?" she replied, her lips splitting into a wide grin and then she went on her tip toes, her face inches away from Phoenix, who could feel his own flaming up as if he'd just downed a bottle of Tabasco in one go. In fact, poor Phoenix became so embarrassed, he slipped on the heel of his shoe, and the both of them went tumbling down; Phoenix braced Maya's fall, though his head ricocheted nicely against the floor. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his head, only to realize that Maya had yet to let go, and she was in the exact same position she was standing up, only now she was laying on top of him.

Phoenix then thought if he'd actually ever come across a situation like this in his life; after a quick recall of his dateless high school life and his not so hot college career, he suddenly came to the harsh realization that this was the first time he'd ever gotten this close to a girl. Her body was warm against his own, and she toyed with his tie, her arms releasing themselves from his shoulders. Needless to say, this change didn't improve Phoenix's disposition.

Then Maya did the most curious thing. She gazed up from her eye lashes, her grey eyes peering into his own, and the corners of her mouth drew upward as she leaned forward.

Her lips brushed his.

Only for a moment, but they did. A soft whisper emerged from Maya's supple pink lips that Phoenix could now quite clearly see.

"Love you."

*****************************************

Fortunately for Phoenix, Maya passed out soon afterwards. He picked up her limp body and laid her out on the fat green sofa and threw her small "Steel Samurai" blanket over her. Walking back into his office, he shook his head and flopped into his chair. Glancing over at the still ever growing mound of paperwork, he rolled his eyes and slumped over his desk. Like hell I could do that now. The tips of his fingers traced his lips, and then he violently shook his head again, as if to make the memory go away.

But, no matter what Phoenix tried to tell himself, it wasn't the kiss that made him anxious and had really unraveled his nerves.

It was the confession.

Now, Phoenix knew first hand that people said dumb and random things when drunk; Mia claimed that one time even he made a giant jackass of himself after having way to much to drink. So why was it that this bothered him? It wasn't as if he liked Maya, not that way at the very least. Sure she was a great friend, a little on the wacky side, but still none the less a great friend, and Mia's sister. Surely she was merely jesting when the words accidently escaped her lips, a form of fabrication that she possibly could have thought hilarious to say in that sort of instance.

He knew that.

So why did that bother him?

Phoenix jumped as his clock rang 6, and he once again rubbed his tender temples. Getting up, he glanced over in the other room, to see Maya waking up, stretching her arms. She returned the stare, smiled, and to what Phoenix could see, was sober.

"Hiya Nick! When did I fall asleep?" she asked cheerfully. Subconsciously, Phoenix could feel his face develop into the loveliest shade of scarlet, and he quickly jammed his hands into his pockets, his eyes glued to his untied, black laces.

"I don't know, bout an hour or two ago," he lied, hoping that Maya was naïve enough to fall for it.

She was.

Both parted ways soon after, and Phoenix couldn't wait to flop onto his comfy queen sized bed and just sleep for hours on end. He wasn't even that hungry, lately it seemed that his appetite was failing miserably. And true to his desire, after he jumped into the shower, came out, pulled on a pair of flannel pants (as weird as it may sound, Phoenix wasn't one to wear shirts to bed, unless it was cold, he found that they simply made things more uncomfortable. And after wearing a stuffy suit all day, he could use the freedom) and jumped into his bed, tugging the blanket over his head as if to shield himself from the darkness of the night. It was only seven o' clock, but damn was he exhausted. Sleep overcame him quickly, gently, but it wasn't in its agenda to let him rest.

************************************

There was Maya, her long silky hair cascading down on his bare chest; her face was stained pink with embarrassment, her glassy grey eyes retreating behind a flock of long black lashes. Phoenix drew his hand to her face, stroked her soft olive skin for only moments before he made his move. Animalistic instincts overwhelmed his body, compelled him as his lips crushed down on hers, his hands following the small curves that shaped Maya's small and delicate frame. He released and she gasped for air, with a small cute moan, barely loud enough for Phoenix to pick up. He heard. He attacked again, more passionately this time, his mouth forming around hers, he could feel now how fragile and defenseless she was, despite her usual loud and overbearing nature. He could feel her body arch ever so slightly against his, and his hands suddenly found themselves against her bare thighs. Her face deepened to a darkened red that rivaled that of any rose as another moan found its way out. Phoenix grinned sheepishly, and Maya pressed her forehead against his, her eyes closed. She reminded him of a flower; blooming at the fullest extent. His flower. Forever.

**************************************

Sweat; that was the first thing Phoenix felt as it trickled from his brow to his chin, and he was gasping for air. He suddenly felt like the world's biggest pedophile; what was a dream like that doing in his head?! And where the hell did it manifest from? He buried his eyes into the palms of his hands as he sat up. He was such a pervert, conjuring such thoughts about him and Maya, thank God he woke up. He was certainly knew where that was leading! What in Christ's name was wrong with him?! Rolling out of bed, he then came to a harsh realization that a cold shower was called for. Flustered, he once again went in quickly, hoping the ice water would knock some sense into his frantic and flabbergasted mind of his.

But later, as he poured his coffee, he laughed subconsciously as he looked over at an empty bag of Pretzels that Maya had downed the day before in her weekly visit to his apartment, and he suddenly realized one very distinct thing.

He loved Maya.

More than anything in the world; was that was that dream was trying to tell him? Could that be one possible explanation for his reaction to her confession? Was that the reason for the skips in his heart, and the embarrassment that followed?

It had to be.

There was just no other explanation.

But would he tell her? Now that was the million dollar question.

And if he did, would she liked him back?

Was the drunken confession really true, or only an ill hearted game?

He toyed with his spiky hair, and he turned the silver spoon over and over in his hand similar to that of his fountain pen. A nervous habit he'd acquired from college years. He realized that he'd have to regain control of himself, because as of the moment, she was sixteen, he was twenty four, and he was pretty sure that was illegal. Wait a few more years, he could do that. Right?

Maya was already waiting patiently at the office for him; he didn't realize it was going to be that awkward around her. Ever moment he caught a glimpse of her, he would notice things that he never really noticed before.

Like the way her skirt hugged her thighs, or how that crimson sash accentuated her slender waist, the way her skin gleamed when the soft light would bounce off of it. How her lips were tinted the lightest pink, and her hair framing her face, it almost like a liquid black gold shimmering down her back, and the most embarrassing was the fact that he actually noticed the small folds that accented her petite breasts.

Needless to say, Phoenix was having a very difficult time concentrating on his work, not to mention that he tried to originally avoid Maya, feeling rather guilty about his fantasy last night, and the perverted thoughts he was having right now. Maya, on the other hand, who could see that something was bothering him, didn't make things better for poor Phoenix. She proceeded to nudge him ever once in a while, her arms folded across her chest, her legs crossed firmly, and her bottom lip poking out ever so slightly in a slight pout.

Just like a child.

"Nick! What's wrong with you today?!" she asked sternly. Phoenix couldn't bear to return her gaze, he shook his head slightly.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," he responded, trying to look preoccupied by doing some of the endless paperwork.

Maya wasn't convinced. She leaned on the desk, pressing her weight down with her palms and her eyebrows crossed sternly together. She stared for a moment, Phoenix determined to ignore her, when she just stared; it was driving him up the wall. She had no idea how much he wanted to draw her in close and reenact similar things that occurred within his dream. He was so afraid of himself, that he pushed his chair back and without a word, retreated from the desk and into the other room. While it was frustrating, even gut wrenching to see the pained expression that crept upon her face, he knew that he would be even more frustrated upon doing said horrible deeds.

But Maya followed; like a spanked puppy who didn't quite know what was going on, she followed. She tugged at his sleeve, and her eyes glistened with tears.

"What's wrong?" worry played on her words, she was seriously upset. Why is she so concerned about a pervert like me? Phoenix thought, still avoiding her gaze. She then took her hands to his face and forced it to look at hers. "What's WRONG? If you mope around like this all day, then I don't know how to help you!" she pleaded; her soft hand still holding firm against Phoenix's cheeks.

"I…I…" the words wouldn't come out, his voice was failing him. He could feel his throat closing in on him, and his chest tightened. He sighed, and then placed his hands on top of hers. His hands dwarfed hers, his palm the size of her extended fingers. He clutched them, afraid to let go. He then for the first time that morning he looked Maya straight in the eyes.

Do or die time.

"Maya, I know you probably don't remember this, but yesterday, after you drank my "water" you kinda started acting a bit…weird dare I say, but the point is basically you made a comment that got me thinking…and…" he still couldn't get the words to come out right. Anything he thought about just sounded corny. That was the last thing he wanted to sound.

Well, actions speak louder than words.

He leaned in, and followed suit with Maya yesterday, and brushed his lips tenderly against hers. He was still clutching her hands. Maya blinked, as if confused. He was afraid of that reaction; he figured it was best to leave. He released her hands and started for the door when a pair of arms could be seen from around his waist.

It was Maya.

"Don't go!" she said, her bottom lip quivering, her arms trembling, her entire body convulsing ever so slightly. "Whatever I said, I'm sorry! I can't recall, but if it was that bad—then I'm so sorry! Please don't hate me!" she pleaded.

"It…It wasn't bad…" his voice was fading, where did all of his confidence run off to? He'd dealt with Mia, Edgeworth, and hell, even that bastard Von Karma! So…

"Maya I love you!"

Silence.

I…I did just say that, right?

He expected Maya's grasp to lightened, even to let go completely at his random confession, something he knew what out of the blue because he only recently (that morning) realized it himself. But to the contrary, Maya's small arms tightened, her hold strong.

"Me…me…" it was Maya's voice, in a soft whisper, Phoenix cold barely hear it. "Me too. I love you too Nick…" She let go and Phoenix turned around and looked down and at the still trembling Maya.

She's…she's so tiny. Phoenix thought, bending down and then swooping her up into his arms. She hardly weighed a pound, and she's so warm! He thought as he tried to calm her down. He went to sit on the sofa, Maya hadn't moved from within his arms. She had become quiet, observant. Her eyes following Phoenix's every movement. Her black hair could be felt against Phoenix's neck, cool and sleek. It was just like the dream.

He looked her over; his eyes following her features, as she did the same. He was about to lean forward when she beat him to the punch. She grinned sheepishly, but then Phoenix returned in ten fold, he following the movements of his dream which guided his every action. Maya returned each kiss eagerly, her soft moans even more exhilarating than they were in the dream, and her skin was softer, her reactions more pronounced. He brushed her hair to the side, caressed her jaw-line, and then proceeded to tenderly press his lips upon her cool throat. Her body convulsed slightly for a response, but she welcomed it soon after, her arms tucked underneath his arms and clinging to the back of his shirt. His hands now were behind her back, still in the form of an embrace, lightly brushing her back with the backside of his hand. He stole a glance up at Maya, whose radiance was greater than he'd ever witnessed before. Once again, his lips molded hers, her back arching against his, soft whispers and sweet nips.

And this time, he didn't wake up.

The End ^^

-haseoluver92-