April 10th, 2013

Grossberg Law Offices

"Good luck in the trial tomorrow, Mrs. Grossberg."

"Thank you, Micah. I'll see you next week."

The double doors of the stately office closed as Micah Fey slowly walked down the front steps. In one hand, he held a slightly coffee-stained travel mug, and in the other, a polished briefcase. His dark brown hair, tied into a small ponytail, ruffled slightly in the warm breeze. He sipped his coffee as he made his way to his car.

"Never been the best at making this stuff..." he muttered to himself after forcing down the bitter drink. He remotely unlocked the car's doors, and sat down. As he shut the door behind him, his cell phone suddenly began to ring. He glanced at the name on the screen.

-Lane Skye-

"Lane?" he inquired, answering the call.

"Hey, Mic. Sorry to bother you right after you got off work, but this is important." the voice of the detective on the phone said.

"What's going on?" Micah asked, his mind suddenly filling with possibilities.

"You heard about the murder at Ivy U yesterday, right?" Lane asked back.

"Yeah, of course. Mrs. Grossberg's handling the ca-"

"No, she's not. Not after you hear this." Lane cut in, furthering Micah's confusion.

"Why, what's up?" he asked, somewhat impatiently.

"It's the witness they brought in for the case. I saw the Chief talking to him; he'll be appearing in tomorrow's trial.

"And?" Micah asked, getting slightly agitated at Lane's vague answers.

"There's no doubt in my mind, Mic. That witness is Dalton Hawthorne."

The phone nearly slipped from Micah's hand. He stared blankly ahead for several seconds, unable to speak.

"I know this is a bad time, but we're never going to get another chance like this. I know he's got something to do with the murder." Lane added, breaking the silence. After another moment's silence, Micah responded.

"No, Lane. There's no time better. How long until you're off work?" he said, a note of force in his voice.

"I can be at your apartment in 40. Tell Grossberg to let you take the case. I'll see you soon." Lane replied.

"On it. See you then." Micah said, hanging up the phone. He started the car and made straight for his apartment, his mind already working furiously.

(Focus, Micah. This is for her.)

April 11th, 2013

District Court

Defendant Lobby No. 3

After a night spent downing mugs of coffee and poring over endless files, Micah was hardly in the optimal mental state. He paced the lobby, his mind still rushing. He and Lane had scavenged every last word of information that they could track down, perusing court records from all sides, every individual police report even remotely connected to the case, and whatever else was available.

"Good morning, Micah." came the voice of Marta Grossberg, breaking Micah out of his thoughts.

"Mrs. Grossberg? I didn't know you were still planning to come." he said, straightening up.

"Of course I was, Micah. This is only your second trial, after all." Grossberg said, before pausing for a moment. She seemed to be thinking very seriously about something. "Micah, what is it about this case that made you do this? Until last night, you hadn't given it a second thought." Micah didn't answer, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Micah, there's something more to this, isn't there? What did you learn about the case?" Another moment passed without an answer from Micah.

"Mrs. Grossberg..." he began after a prolonged silence, "After I left the office yesterday, I got a phone call from Detective Skye."

"Lane?" Grossberg inquired, concern crossing her face.

"Yeah...Lane told me about the witness who's going to be brought in today." Micah said quietly, still not raising his gaze. Grossberg waited for him to go on. "Mrs. Grossberg, the witness..." he broke off, taking in a deep breath to cool the rising anger in his voice. "The witness for today's trial is Dalton Hawthorne." he finally said, lifting this head to look his employer in the eye. Grossberg let out a light gasp. Her eyes seemed to darken.

"So, you two think he has something to do with the murder?" she asked after a pause, her usual kindly tone turning serious.

"We do." Micah replied simply.

"I understand." Grossberg said, her expression unreadable. "If that's the case, there is nobody I would trust other than you."

There was a mixture of concealed emotions in Grossberg's tone. In the years Micah had known the veteran attorney, he had rarely heard his employer letting her emotions into her work.

She's a tough old bird. The words rang in Micah's head.

"Excuse me, Mr. Fey?" came another voice. Micah turned to see a young woman, a few years younger than himself.

"Hello, Ms. Wright." he said. This young woman, Ms. Phoenix Wright, was a student in the university in which the murder had occurred, and for a multitude of reasons, was the investigation's prime suspect. She had the look of someone who no longer knew what to think. Micah had briefly spoken to her in the Detention Centre the night before, where she had seemed deeply conflicted about the entire event. She had vehemently insisted that she was not the murderer, but couldn't bring herself to suspect Hawthorne's involvement. As Micah understood it, Ms. Wright had been dating Dalton Hawthorne for a period of six months, and had never at any point suspected that he would ever be capable of committing a crime of any magnitude. When she had learned that Hawthorne would be testifying against her, a look of deep shock had appeared on her face as she was struck silent for several minutes.

"Mr. Fey, if what you've told me about Dalton is true," she said, clearly forcing her voice to remain level, "I trust you to bring the truth out." her expression became serious as she finished.

"I appreciate that, Ms. Wright. I promise you that I'll do everything I can to help you. I'll get you the right verdict, and, if I can manage it, I'll put Dalton Hawthorne away for good." Micah said. Ms. Wright lowered her head; she still seemed to be having difficulty accepting what she had been told about Dalton.

"The trial is about to begin. Would the defense and defendant please enter the courtroom?" one of the guards positioned by the door called.

"This is it, Ms. Wright." Micah said. Mrs. Grossberg placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll join you on the bench, Micah." she said. "We'll win this case. For your client's sake, and for Delia's."

The trial was an impressive spectacle. Micah fought with every last piece of evidence he had gathered, forcing his way toward the truth. Dalton Hawthorne, upon taking the stand, attempted to gain the sympathy of the court, putting on a façade of sadness and confusion. He hoped to convince the court that he had been fighting with his conscience for the past two days, trying to decide between protecting his girlfriend, or helping to bring about justice for the murder. In the end, however, his act collapsed as Micah broke past his lies and repeatedly connected him not only to the murder, but also to his past crimes. Finally, the man stood on the witness stand, gripping the wood surface violently, his knuckles whitening and his arms shaking. He glared savagely across the room toward Micah, his face taut with rage as the judge handed down the final verdict.

"I find the defendant, Ms. Phoenix Wright, not guilty. Court is adjourned."

Micah stood quietly in the lobby, a confused mass of feelings coursing through his mind. He had listened to Mrs. Grossberg's words of sincere congratulations minutes before, but their combined triumph could not shake the unsettled feeling that remained deep in his mind. Dalton Hawthorne had been brought to justice. He supposed that he should have felt at peace, but there remained a dark gap in his mind; a sense of something that would forever be missing. He was shaken from his thoughts by a voice.

"Mr. Fey? There's something I need to talk to you about." Phoenix said, approaching him. He turned.

"Yes, Ms. Wright?"

"I didn't tell you this before, but I've been attending Ivy U to become a defense attorney, like you." she said, a note of determination in her voice. "I wondered," she continued, "if you might let me study with you."

Micah looked Phoenix in the eye, and met a look of inspired confidence. He smiled.

"I think you may be onto something there, Ms. Wright."

Author's Words of Less-Than Wisdom

That takes care of our prologue. I've got no idea whether or not I'll be able to finish this entire fic, but I'm gonna be giving it my best effort. I've never attempted a gender-swap work before, so this'll be an interesting ride. It's a shame that I'll have to obliterate most of the name puns to make it work, though.

As usual, feedback is appreciated.