Author's Notes: HAHA, MORE FICDUMP. There's a typhoon where I'm at right now, I'm bloody tired, and there's no internet. So here I am, typing something up to waste the time away. It's only 6:30 PM… so if I go to sleep, I'll wake up around four. So I can't.

I guess it's a one-shot? I haven't even started writing it.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney/Jerry Bruckheimer, Gyakuten Saiban belongs to CAPCOM, and the idea belongs to my (messed up) brain.

xxx

His golden teeth, his kohl-rimmed eyes

His stupid grin, his rum-tinged breath

His strong hands, his rugged face

His screwed-up mind, his ingenious ideas

The pistol with one shot, the compass that didn't point north

The slurred cockney accent

Beautiful chocolate eyes

And freedom

That was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!"

xxx

"Nick, Nick!"

I'd nearly dozed off when Maya appeared, bouncing on my couch and shoving a book in my face. I grumbled, raising my arms in the air and waving them around in self-defense. I was not in the mood for any childish outbursts, and if it was Cody's album, Path of Glory, for the umpteenth time, I'd have to tell her that I didn't quite enjoy seeing the same pictures over nine-thousand times. Maya stopped, then, and I was thankful; but when I finally brought myself to look at her – I found the thick book's title.

The (In)famous Adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Who's… Jack Sparrow?" I asked, finally, not really sure if I wanted to know or not. Maya grinned, beamed, showed her teeth – and I knew just then that asking was a huge mistake. "Captain Jack Sparrow, Nick! He likes it best if you call him Captain Jack Sparrow!" she exclaimed, practically swooning with the book tucked safely in her arms. I raised an eyebrow, and pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head from side-to-side to wake myself up.

"Alright, then. Who's Captain Jack Sparrow?" I asked, then, not believing that I was actually continuing this line of questioning. Perhaps it was the lawyer's blood in me, telling me to keep pressing for useless information. Then again, that seemingly useful information seemed to always help me in court. But, on the other hand, I doubt this 'Jack Sparrow' would ever appear in any of my trials. But, on the other hand – I was interrupted when Maya began to speak.

"Oh, he's amazing, Nick! He did all these things, raiding an entire base without firing a single shot, being able to escape from a desert island after being stranded on it by strapping sea turtles together to make a raft… Nick, sea turtles! He strapped sea turtles together!" Maya cooed, once more swooning in obvious admiration. I grumbled again, leaning back into my couch and blinking hard.

"Maya… how is that even possible?" I continued, trying to keep my eyelids from falling closed. Maya giggled, resting her chin on the book still safely tucked in her arms. "He used human hair," she stated, rather simply, and I watched as she squirmed, getting the second part out. "From his back."

…

It took me five minutes to stop laughing.

"His back, Maya? You think he really used back hair to strap sea turtles together to use as a raft? Are you really that gullible? No doubt it was a lie, and he probably sat on the shore for all those days on the island drinking rum from God knows where, and then stowing away on a ship that seemed to have passed by at that time!" I exclaimed, incredulous. But Maya was stubborn, and she liked proving her points, and as if she had expected me being unbelieving of the stories of this so-called 'Captain Jack Sparrow', she grabbed my hand and led me out of my office and back out into the streets.

"Ack! Maya! I didn't even get my suit jacket on, or my tie!" I shouted, and people stared at me for a moment, then at Maya, then at the book she had in her arms. If this Jack Sparrow was famous, then I wouldn't have known, because apparently he was. These people, these random civilians who were the unlucky witnesses to Maya's insanities, nodded and smiled; as if recalling a fond memory. Could they perhaps have read the same book, passed on from person to person? If that was so, then I must definitely be out of the loop. But my parents didn't like me thinking and reading about 'pirates'… so I had a pretty good reason as to why I knew close to nothing about him.

"We don't have time for that, Nick! I'm going to prove to you that he's real, and you'll have to get me burgers in exchange!" She was pouting as she said this, her sandals clicking against the sidewalk; and I found myself walking towards the District Prosecutor's Office. Had she talked Edgeworth into is, and did he comply?

Most likely not, but who else was there to talk to?

xxx

"Mr. Wright!"

"E-Ema!?"

Ema Skye, sister of Chief Prosecutor Lana Skye, scientific investigator in the making apparently on vacation from studies aboard…

… and the first person I know of who actually tried to make a time machine.

And succeeded.

"See, Nick? We can punch in the time here, when Jack was still pilfering and plundering, whatever that means, and you'll be able to see for yourself that he exists," Maya said with a nod, and I shot a glance at the younger Skye, seeing nothing but haze and confusion clouded in my eyes. Ema grinned, and I realized that these two were most likely in cahoots for the longest time, now. Those topknots of evil probably gave them telepathic powers.

"… And how are you sure that this'll work? Has it been tested on anyone, Ema?" I asked, looking at the young scientific investigator with one of those please say no so I can have a valid point not to do this looks. But to no avail: she'd tested it on someone.

I could tell with how furiously her head was nodding.

"Of course, Mr. Wright! I wouldn't be so dumb as to let any human being on a trip like this without the machine being tested out!" she exclaimed, and out of brief curiosity, I asked who the unlucky fellow was.

"Detective Gumshoe," she'd said, but I didn't really have the time to contemplate whether Ema thought him human or not.

The rest came as a blur, Maya telling Ema the time and place, Ema putting in the commands – and a portal opening in front of me, showing flashing neon lights and a swirl in the middle. Ema said something about me having to spend a bit of time in the other world before I could come back here, but I couldn't really pay attention – as I was praying furiously to whatever God may be up there watching over me to keep me safe. Maya's adventurous and naturally troublesome nature was helpful sometimes, but most of the time just a waste of my time. But now that I was here I couldn't possibly back out, as much as I wanted to turn tail and run away.

I think they told me to step forward, because the next thing I knew, I was pushed in and lost all control over what I saw and heard.

How cliché.

Everything went black.

xxx

I felt like I'd been sleeping for a century.

My body was partially numb and I found myself unable to move from my spot. My mind was at a blank, and my breathing was surprisingly erratic and CHRIST ALMIGHTY WHO WAS SCREAMING IN MY EAR!?

"GO AWAY!" I shouted, half-expecting to see Maya or Ema, or at least Edgeworth, or Gumshoe – and then someone smart decided to drench me in freezing cold water. "Ack! I'm awake, I'm awake! Stop it!" I continued, flailing around. I was not a morning person and I doubted that I'd ever be one. The fact that whoever was playing around with me decided to bug me while I was sleeping alerted me to me not being a morning person. I grumbled and opened my eyes, and found myself being stared at by dirty, bad-smelling pirates. Of course, they'd be staring, I was known for my spiky hair, and they'd just ruined it and made it frame my face and press against the shape of my skull by effectively spraying water on me and –

- hold on a blooming second.

Dirty, bad smelling pirates.

Dirty, bad smelling pirates.

"… Oh my –"

" – God?"

I raised my head a bit more to look up at whoever finished my sentence, afraid and unsure how this was going to turn out. Another one of those dirty, bad smelling pirates, with a particular eye problem that I wasn't looking forward to actually being able to explain – because it looked wooden and fake. I swallowed, and made a small, sheepish smile. "I don't suppose any of you would give me any explanations as to where I am?" I asked, clearly pushing my luck – which was much more obvious when the strange-eyed man's friends picked me up by my arms and dragged me towards some kind of cabin. I'd never been experienced with ships, and therefore had no idea what they called the parts. I just knew that there was something called 'poopdeck', 'starboard', and other terms.

"Why don't ye ask the Cap'n, lad?" asked one of the pirates with a sneer, and I grumbled a little at the smell of his breath. Knowing that they were pirates reminded me that not brushing in over ten years was a possibility as to the explanation for the rotten smell. I swallowed again and gave a shaky smile, giving a little guess as to who this mystery Captain was.

"You mean Jack Sparrow?" My voice was unsure and so full of nervousness that I wanted to slap myself, but I felt like fainting when I heard a foreign accent, a bit of a slurred one, and smelled something alcoholic near my face – which had been turned to face the ones who were carrying me.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, mate," said the voice, a single index finger tracing the lining of my neck and making goosebumps pop along my skin. "I'd much prefer it if you called me that."

Maya was right.

I hate to admit it, but Maya was right.

Captain Sparrow moved away from me, and the scraggly pirates carrying me asked him questions on what to do with me. I looked up at him, then, finding myself unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of him. He was… different looking, so to say, with random items seeming to adorn his dirty-clothes-covered body. He had a roguish sort of grin, and I realized that he was most likely the most handsome-looking of the lot (albeit very dirty, as well – and not the 'sexy' kind of dirty, the 'I need a shower' kind of dirty); and possibly the craziest.

Wait, handsome? I thought he was handsome?

"Throw him off the ship," Captain Sparrow said.

It took me a moment to realize that that was a bad thing.

"Wait, wait!" I shouted. "Hold it! Objection!"

"Ye 'eard 'im, boy," came one of those voices, definitely not Captain Sparrow's, and I felt myself being dragged again – although this time towards the edge of the ship. My legs were being grasped now, along with my arms, and I closed my eyes tightly. Not even ten minutes on this stupid ship, and I was already being thrown away. How was I supposed to get back to my time, then?

"Yer off the Pearl."

My eyes were still closed and I felt myself tremble under their strong, meant-to-hurt grips on my limbs, and my breath was being held. I felt them swing me, felt their arms moving; ready to throw me into the depths of whatever ocean they were sailing, and when their grips loosened and I felt like I was going to die –

" – Wait, wait!"

Captain Sparrow's voice shot through the moments my life shot through beneath my closed eyelids, and I opened my eyes to look at the frantic look on his face. "Don't throw 'im off, boys!" he shouted, arms flailing around a bit so that it looked comical. I was surprised, and a little unsure whether it was a good thing he saved my life or not. Considering that he was a pirate, and most likely one of the strangest of them all, I was afraid that perhaps he'd use me as some kind of toy, or live bait for distractions.

"You, er, whelp," Captain Sparrow started, and I was tempted to tell him that I was not a whelp, whatever that was. "… Do you happen to have, er, I don't know, spiky hair and a spirit medium friend and a possible crush on your rival?"

I was about to open my mouth to that, about to tell him that I did have spiky hair (how could he not tell – oh, my hair was wet) and a spirit medium friend, and did not have a possible crush on Edgeworth, because I was perfectly straight thank you very much, when Captain Sparrow started to talk again. "Put him down," he said, and I was about to say 'gently' when again I was interrupted by my back colliding with the hard wooden floor of the rocking ship.

Captain Sparrow walked, or, rather, swaggered towards me; and crouched in front of my fallen form – lightly tapping me on the nose. "Aye, yer the one, aren't you?" he continued, not minding that I hadn't given an answer; and his fingers moved to cup my chin and jerk my head upward to look at him. "Mr. Wrong, was it?"

"Wright," I mumbled, turning my head away and keeping myself from panicking. "B-But how do you know my - ?"

Captain Sparrow grinned, flashing some of his golden teeth at me. "What I know is for me to know and for you not to know, simply because I know it and therefore it is not in your power to know it, too, mate."

I opened my mouth to object, and shut it again, fearful of another one of those confusing outbursts. That meant I wouldn't be getting a straight answer anytime soon, great.

At this, Captain Sparrow told his crew members to continue whatever they were doing 'or else he'd nail their gizzards to the mast', and swaggered into his cabin. I blinked, unsure of what to do, and followed like a lost puppy – poking my head in and watching as he seemed to be doing something like a little dance, looking around and through his wardrobe. He paused, then, and grinned again; and I figured he didn't know I was there, because when he turned around and saw me, he blinked his chocolate brown eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Fright!"

"Wright."

"I know I'm right – " I was half-way into my objection, when he interrupted me for the umpteenth time and showed me a dress. " – Now wear this."

I took the dress, looked at it, pressed it to my front and – wait!

"No!" I shouted, throwing it back at the Captain. "I… I can't wear a dress!" I continued, and he blinked as though he hadn't thought I was of the male gender in the first place.

"Listen, mate," he started, rubbing his temples. "As much as I enjoy seeing you soaking wet and seeing your skin through said wet dress shirt, I'd much prefer if ye'd be so kind as to not wear wet clothing on this little venture, and let your wonderful clothes dry. And, as you cannot fit in my clothes, this is all I have that you can wear."

He shoved the wine-red dress in my direction (the color of Edgeworth's suit, maybe), and I looked down at it with a look of contemplation.

"… Didn't your mother ever tell you that men don't crossdress?"

Captain Sparrow smiled, extending his arms and giving me some kind of intimate hug; and I swallowed.

"Here, crossdressing and gender don't matter, mate. You're with me, now, savvy?"

I pushed him away, gripping on the dress as though it was a life and death matter.

"B-B-But… but I… O-Objection!"

"That 'objection' was half-meant, mate. What kind of 'objection' was that?"

"I think a better question is: what kind of a place is this!?" I yelled, and Captain Sparrow grinned again, before lightly brushing the tip of my nose with one of his dirtied thumbs. I felt my face heat up and stepped back, leaving the confines of the cabin.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, Mr. Flight!" he said, and I didn't even bother to correct him anymore. Captain Sparrow's hand lightly brushed against my stomach as he turned me around, and his lips moved to lightly nip on my ear. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay."

And with that, I was pushed out of the room altogether.

xxx

Author's Notes: I… I don't have a witty comment to say to that. Jack Sparrow/Phoenix Wright is just… it's too far, even for me…

… BUT WHY DO I FIND IT SO HOT!?

Okay, so this can stand alone or something, but I guess I'll continue it if I have the urge to… or if I find out that someone's actually reading this.

"OH, MISTER SIGHT?"

"YES, CAPTAIN SPARROW?"

"I LOVE YOU, LET'S GO TO MY BEDROOM AND BE LIKE FERTILE LITTLE BUNNY RABBITS!"

"OKAY, BUT BE GENTLE."

"I PROMISE, ONLY IF YOU BEHAVE, MATE."

-headdesk-