Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright or any of it's characters, otherwise this wouldn't be a fanfiction, would it?

Perhaps it was the fact that traffic had been horrendously congested for the drive home, perhaps it was that she practically had to fracture her skull trying to figure out how to plead her latest client's case when the entire world seemed to have it against him (a past of small time robberies didn't exactly scream 'Not Guilty of murder!'), or perhaps it was the fact she had been running around the office in these damned heels all day-

Mia Fey didn't even have enough willpower to finish her mental rant on how tired she was as she finally walked into her apartment, unceremoniously kicking her black high heels off with a primitive grunt. Not even bothering to watch them violently collide into the wall, she painfully dragged what felt like a carcass more than her own body into the living area and let herself fall atop her slightly dated couch, even the bland, empty walls that usually failed to phase her beginning to feel oppressive.

Mia couldn't remember for the life of her the last time she had felt this exhausted. How was it possible for someone to be this tired and still be able to maintain conciousness? Might have something to do with this throbbing ache… the young attorney thought to herself as she began massaging the painful sole of her left foot, temporary and cheap relief considering it was her entire body that was crying for aspirin.

The brunette sighed to herself as she transferred her rubbing hands over to her other foot. Her unmotivated gaze fixed on the featureless ceiling above her. Not only had her entire day proven to have been a mind-numbing endurance test, but her free time was promising to have just about the same fun factor: a whole lot of nothing with a side order of ambiguous depression.

The dialogue with her coworkers on the way out was still fresh in her mind. "Glad to have your day behind you. Ms. Fey?" Mr. Grossberg, her jovial and rather plump employer had called out to her from inside his office. "Any plans for tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know... crash in front of the TV with whatever old clothes I can find and eat leftovers… maybe some ice cream if I still have some…" she had replied with as much vigor as a shriveled up plant in the middle of the Sahara desert.

"That's hot." Diego Armando, resident cheeky eye candy, allowed himself to sarcastically comment with a grin as he passed her by, fresh cup of coffee in hand despite the fact that it was 6 pm. "Must you always make it a point to tease us so, Kitten?" he added with a wink.

"Shut up, Diego."

"I'm kidding, Kitten. I'm sure your old high school sweatshirt and ice cream stains look very flattering on you."

Mia hadn't bothered to mention how just about everything from her scalp to her toenails was begging to be put out of misery, knowing all too well the handsome bastard would only offer to personally give her a full body massage (which would have felt SO good right about now…), opportunity just about any other woman would have blindly accepted. But not Mia. Getting a rubdown from one of your superiors at work just wasn't right, regardless of how much hot Latino vibe said supervisor had going on. That and he had ordered her to fetch ridiculously expensive and smelly coffee grinds for his stupid high-end coffee machine all the way at the other end of town, which only added to her feet's misery. 'The only place where they sell that specific blend' he said with that stupid charismatic grin that sent her in mental fits of swooning. 'Nothing we can do about it, Kitten'. Nothing, huh? How about he got off the damn caffeine and pick up a normal corny hobby like stamp collecting or Pokemon cards?

Eventually she forced herself into her room to change into something that actually allowed her to breathe, which sadly ended up being throwing on an old sweatshirt like Diego had predicted and some pajama pants she had lying around. Sarcastic hotness indeed! But, refusing to give him a total victory, the apprentice attorney opted for the light grey hoodie adorning her university's dark red logo that also served as a rudimentary blue print of the campus rather than the bright pink one she had ordered through the high school memorial shirt initiative (back when girly techno music was still relevant, ouch!) That'll show him. Somehow. Besides, her old high school sweatshirt didn't fit anymore, what with the same large chest of hers that made every clothes shopping occasion into an epic quest comparable to that of Excalibur or Holy Grail. At least King Arthur had a magician telling him what to do, Mia had to waste entire afternoons running from store to store just for a bra that properly fit…

Slightly perked up by the random reminder of her totally awesome body image, only thing that seemed to be going well for her at the moment (forget her sad little victory on the sweatshirt issue by a technicality, sure as she was that Armando was choking on his bitter dark coffee at her audacity right about now), Mia plopped down before the same television set she had when she first moved out of Kurain with the afore mentioned leftovers, Chinese noodles only two days old (Mia was evidentially going all out tonight), beginning to watch a crime drama series she had never watched until now all the while steadily eating the still slightly stiff noodles. She didn't really care at this point, as long as it was lukewarm thanks to the microwave and not starting it's own ecosystem, she would eat it.

Was this really how it was going to be for her from now on? Passionate yet at the same time exhausted beyond all measure about her work and a nightlife consisting of watching ridiculous fictional stories on the small screen? No wonder the writers always came up with outrageous plot hooks (A drug dealer cop's twin infiltrating the legal system with just the likeliness of his brother? Riiiiiight…) or never dwelved into any of these fictional character's personal lives, there was nothing to talk about! The last thing people needed to know was a reminder of their own mundane day to day lives. That angsty supermodel police officer bouncing around the streets after the killers totally spent her nights eating ice cream right out of the tub while looking at yet another dumb program.

"You and me both." Mia confirmed to the fictional police officer bitterly. Her premonitions of bland grown-up life was then interrupted by the phone ringing. That's odd. Who would be calling me at this hour? The exhausted woman just dumbly stared at the device a little ways off of where she was sitting as it rang one, two, three times before remembering someone on the other end of the line was waiting on her.

Stretching her free arm as far as it could so she wouldn't have to get up to pick up the ringing device, Mia struggled to keep the receiver airborne, half catching it only to almost drop it a few too many times before finally managing to grasp it properly between her fingers. Taking the time to slowly exhale out of relief, Mia brought the receiver to the side of her face, giving a hesitant: "Hello?" to her still anonymous caller.

"Hey sis! It's Maya, how've you been? Th Kurain training temple's giving us the weekend off to visit family!"

Mia's face instantly lit up at that.