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To Each A Tempo -- Chapter 20 (PG-13)
Title: To Each A Tempo -- Chapter 20
Fandom: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney/Elite Beat Agents crossover
Completion date: April 10th, 2008
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 2924
Characters: Phoenix, Maya, Agent Foxx, Agent J, Agent Starr, Agent Morris, Agent Derek, Agent Spin, Agent Chieftain, Edgeworth, the Judge, Pathos.
Summary: After all this, in darkest moments, all Phoenix has to do is call.




     The gallery buzzed for long cracks of the Judge's gavel. And Edgeworth bit out his statement:
     "It is unclear how Mr. Pathos is involved in the case. But he was in the vicinity of Foster Park and the Orchard bistro on the morning of the murder, and may have vital information."
     Phoenix looked to Maya and Stewart, and he thrummed with a stronger force than nerves: something huge would happen here, it charged the air.

     On an even gait and a pleasant smile, Pathos took the witness stand.

     "Witness," Edgeworth said, "Your name and occupation."
     He eased his hands into suit pockets. "I am Sior Pathos, amateur journalist."
     "And for the sake of the record--" and Edgeworth said it like a cold wind, "--Why were you in the courtroom this morning, Mr. Pathos?"
     No hesitation: Pathos inclined his head. "I simply decided to watch a trial. I've heard they can be quite exciting. But I was struck with inspiration for my writing just moments ago, and I wasn't paying attention to the proceedings." And, with a smile, "Your Honour, I apologize for inconveniencing this court."
     "Oh!" The Judge straightened up. "Why, it's no trouble at all, Mr. Pathos!"

     "I'm pretty sure it was some trouble," Maya muttered.
     And it'd be more trouble if Pathos could play the Judge like a fiddle.

     "Now, then." Holding a pen ready, Edgeworth flicked a look at Pathos. "If you would give your statement for the court: What were you doing on Tuesday morning?"
     "With pleasure."

     Pathos looked at Phoenix then, direct, and still smiling small and cool. Did he really think he was going to get away with it? Phoenix's hands turned to fists against the stand.

     "On Tuesday morning," Pathos began, "I had an early lunch in the Orchard bistro."
     "Hold it," Phoenix called. Stay calm, follow the threads and yank loose ones -- "What time was that?"
     "I left my apartment at approximately ten-thirty. And the path through the Orchard kitchen is an elaborate one, as I'm sure you know, Mr. Wright."
     A flash in Pathos's icy eyes, and he glanced between Phoenix and Maya, resettling his hands in his pockets.
     "So, I would have been in the Orchard at approximately twenty minutes to eleven. You can ask the good Chef LaFlamme, if you'd like, she served my meal."
     It did match Cherry's testimony -- which wasn't the point.
     "The good Chef ...?" Phoenix tried. He rubbed his chin. "Are you on good terms with Chef LaFlamme?"
     "Of course," Pathos smiled, "For all her shortcomings, she is a remarkable individual. I don't mind sharing property with her at all."

     "How graceful," Foxx said, dry enough to crack.
     "Should we push that?" Phoenix wondered under his breath.
     "Whether they're friends?" Maya scratched her temple. "Maybe it's more important where he was than why he was there?"
     "See where it goes, Phoenix," Foxx decided, "Let's see where he'll lead."
     Hopefully somewhere Phoenix had a map for.

     "And when you were done your meal?" Edgeworth prompted.
     A pause. Pathos blinked contemplatively.
     "I finished my meal, and began the preliminary notes for my next article. At which point, I left the Orchard."
     "Hold it! Why did you leave?"
     That same level smile, and that same knowing gaze. "Because the lunch hour was upon the Orchard. That sort of bustling noise isn't conducive to my work, you see."

     Now came the important part -- Phoenix leaned forward.
     "So, Mr. Pathos, where did you go?"
     "I'll say it again for you, Mr. Wright: I went for a walk in Foster Park, to clear my head," Pathos replied. "Mostly on the main path, past the wedding festivities. The other paths can be so terribly muddy."
     "The mud was a concern for you?" Edgeworth didn't look up from taking notes, his brows knitted. "Why was that?"
     "I didn't want my shoes dirtied," and Pathos looked pointedly down, to his luminously polished dress shoes, "Although, I still ended up needing to wash some debris from them when I arrived home. One never knows when a first impression will be made, of course."

     "If he really cleaned his shoes, we can't pin him with soil traces," Foxx hissed.
     "But Stewart's shoes have the mud on them," Maya added.
     One more lost opportunity. So what did they have? The Nexus pen and the ink on the victim's sweater, and the security camera, but those--

     "And while on my walk," Pathos continued, "I saw the defendant fleeing the scene of the crime."
     "What?!" Phoenix choked.

     The gallery rumbled; the Judge hammered his gavel.
     "Order! Order! Mr. Pathos," and he paused, like a dog just realizing it had peanut butter stuck to the roof of its mouth, "Why didn't you mention this before?"
     "Should I have?" Pathos had the nerve to keep smiling. "My apologies. I don't mean to hide anything from this court, I'm simply telling the events as they happened."
     "Then you should have been more specific in your statement," Edgeworth grated -- it was a wonder the pen didn't snap in his hand.
     "May I go into detail now, then?" Pathos asked, "I'll be very thorough in what I saw."

     "He's bluffing," Phoenix hissed, "No one saw Stewart, right?"
     "No one else was on that path, but--" and Foxx paused, and a pained sound slipped from her, "But he's seen J! He knows the uniform, he knows how Agents move in the field! And if he committed the murder--"
     "Then he has everything he needs to make up a testimony! Maya, pass me the alley notes?"
     She shuffled through papers. "Look at the map, too, Nick! I marked Pathos's trail on it!"
     The map? Lemon-bright highlighter caught Phoenix's eye, forming a triangle along Pathos's flight path, widening to fill the Orchard alley. A trail? Of what?

     "I was walking down the main path of the park, enjoying the weather and the music," Pathos was beginning.
     "Hold it!" Phoenix glanced to the notes and back. "The music ...?"
     "I believe a wedding celebration was taking place in the park? I saw the karaoke stage being erected, the previous evening."

     "He knew about the wedding, he knew there was music," Foxx murmured.
     "And he felt Stewart's music, didn't he?" Maya asked, "With music sense."
     That was the only way Pathos could have known an Agent was nearby: picking up on the vibes most people didn't notice. But if there was music in the area already ...

     Phoenix nodded, and jotted notes.
     "I see," the Judge prompted, "Foster Park was quite popular that morning, it seems. And then what happened?"
     "Then," Pathos went on, and the smile dropped off him, "Movement in the bushes caught my eye, and I turned back. I saw the defendant emerge from the trees, running."
     "Objection!" Phoenix slammed the stand. "This is a serious accusation, Mr. Pathos. What makes you think it was my client you saw?"
     "You'd like a description, Mr. Wright?" The faintest stirring of a smirk began on Pathos. "He was wearing a black suit and good shoes, and he had blond hair, neatly styled. He was well-built and if I had to estimate, perhaps five-foot-eight. He ran as if for his life, on a diagonal across the street and into the Orchard bistro's alleyway."
     "You sound quite sure of yourself," Edgeworth commented, raising a brow.
     "Because I'm quite sure of what I saw." And Pathos turned his gaze to the defendant's box -- staring, frost slipping into his voice. "The defendant can change his appearance however he likes, but I recognize him. I know what he did."

     Stewart -- shaking, head high -- said nothing.

     "May I ask," Edgeworth broke in, "If you actually saw what the defendant did in Foster Park?"
     And if Edgeworth was asking a question like that, in such a bristling tone, he couldn't have told Pathos anything. The days of groomed witnesses and edited testimony were long gone, and that meant--
     "Did I see the crime scene?" In a flash, Pathos was smiling apologetically for the court. "The sight of that strange man made me uneasy, and I left the park to find assistance, I'm afraid. I didn't think to look for the lady."

     Finally, a slip.
     "If you didn't see the crime scene, and haven't paid attention to these court proceedings--" and Phoenix put hands to his hips, "--Then how did you know the victim was a lady, Mr. Pathos?"
     His face didn't crumble, his cool aura didn't even flinch: Pathos merely blinked.
     "I did just hear the 'Grandma Murderer' story on the radio the other day. Forgive me, I shouldn't make assumptions. Is this case's victim a lady ...?"

     He was even oil-smooth while playing dumb -- Phoenix's teeth grated.
     "He must know the victim was a lady, Nick," Maya hissed, and took the Nexus pen's bag between her fingers like she wanted to whip it up onto the stand herself, "We have proof that he was there!"
     "Use what you've got," Foxx agreed.

     This was it, then: no turning back.
     "This case's victim is indeed Morna Beasley, the 'grandma' from the news story. But I think you know that already, Mr. Pathos. In fact, I think you were at the scene of the murder, and you were the one running!"

     The gallery muttered, scandalized. And Phoenix barely heard the hammering gavel -- only saw the black flicker across Pathos's face.

     "Order in the court!"
     "If I may," Edgeworth said, lifting a demonstrative hand, "The defendant and Mr. Pathos have a remarkably similar build and appearance. Since Mr. Lowe was well-dressed at the time of his arrest, the two of them could be interchangable in witness testimony."
     Humming, looking from witness stand to defendant's box, the Judge decided, "Yes, I suppose they could. It would be easy enough to confuse them at a distance."
     "So," Edgeworth went on, "Witnesses could easily be confused as to which running man they saw. Mr. Pathos could have been the one running from the crime scene, if Mr. Wright has the evidence to support his theory ...?"
     And Phoenix did -- he lifted the bag, Nexus pen glinting inside.
     "Do you recognize this, Mr. Pathos?" The opportunity was too perfect; Phoenix couldn't help smiling.
     A twitch pulled Pathos's mouth. He straightened, squaring his shoulders, resettling hands in his pockets.
     "Yes, I do. That's my favourite pen. And I must say, Mr. Wright, if you didn't have a search warrant, I would be most irritated at your taking my things."

     Maya looked to Phoenix. "What's this search warrant thing he keeps talking about?"
     "Search me," Phoenix muttered.

     And then, louder, "So, this is your pen. It uses green soy-based ink cartridges, and green soy-based ink is exactly what was found on the victim's sweater!" Phoenix pointed. "If you weren't at the scene of the crime, then how do you explain that?"
     "Are you sure, Mr. Wright?"
     No sweat on Pathos's brow, no furious grimace, nothing -- his smile didn't change one bit. But if he didn't react to that--
     The strength drained from Phoenix's pointing arm.
     "I ... uhh, am I sure of what?"
     "Of the ink's composition," Pathos said, "My previous job was an executive position and printing was a daily part of business. And to my knowledge, soy-based inks are used industrially, not in common pens."
     "I-- But this pen is a commemorative gift from Nexus Broadcast, the ink cartridges are custom ordered!"
     "And how do you know this, Mr. Wright? Testing of the ink in question?"
     Now this just wasn't fair -- Phoenix put the evidence bag down, fists tightening. "It's public knowledge what type of ink this pen uses! I-- I found it on Wikthology!"
     "But," and Pathos's tone went cold, "You don't have documented proof of this ink's composition? You're working on coincidence, Mr. Wright? I suppose because the pen's ink colour and the traces on the victim happen to be the same colour. "
     "Green is not a common colour for pen ink," Edgeworth broke in, "This is a very suspicious coincidence."
     "But a coincidence nonetheless." Sliding a cool gaze over to Edgeworth, Pathos went on, "Soy-based ink could be from anything. Flyers, newsprint, perhaps that deck of cards on the evidence table ...? Unless there are test results matching my pen to the traces on the victim ... I do hope this respectable court of law won't rely on a database any child could edit."
     The Judge blinked, and smoothed his beard. "Publicly edited? My, that explains a lot of what I find on there. I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Pathos: decisive evidence is needed here, not conjecture."

     "But that's ..." Frustration knotted in Phoenix's throat; he growled. "That was our ace! What now?"
     "Just keep-- ..."
     And he was suddenly, purely terrified: static crackled in his ear where Foxx ought to be. Phoenix's hand flew to the com link.
     "Foxx? Wha-- Maya, do you hear that?"
     "Phoe-- ...."
     One last murmur and Foxx was gone, the com link white.
     "Sounds like a broken radio," Maya murmured, wide-eyed, "But how could he jam the lines with everyone watching him ...?"

      Pathos stood too close -- across open court but he watched Phoenix, eyes too sharp and smile too pleasant. And his hands stayed firmly in his pockets, he could have anything in there, and Pathos was always a step ahead, wasn't he? If there was nothing else to throw at him--

     "Frankly," and Pathos shook his head, every motion raking down Phoenix's nerves, "I don't know why I would be accused of such a vicious crime. I have no reason to wish ill against this Ms. Beasley, I've never even met her."
     "You're not familiar with her name?" Edgeworth tried, "Perhaps you've heard talk of an older lady around the Orchard bistro?"
     "Chef LaFlamme is the one concerned with politics." And, removing his left hand from pocket, laying it on the stand, Pathos said, "I try to avoid gossip, it's so petty."
     "That's understandable," the Judge said.
     "Avoid gossip?" Edgeworth said, and pointed a speculating finger, "Are you claiming that you routinely spend time in the Orchard bistro, yet don't speak with the people in it?"
     "Because I am engrossed in my writing when I go there, I believe I've mentioned that several times already. " Pathos canted his head. "If there's nothing else of note ...? I'd hate to waste the court's time."
     "Well," the Judge mused, "I don't see anything unusual about the witness's testimony, and if there is no decisive evidence linking him to the crime ... Do you have any further points, Mr. Edgeworth?"
     With a long pause -- and a desperate stare at Phoenix -- Edgeworth answered, "No, Your Honour. Nothing further."
     "Mr. Wright, do you have anything to add?"

     "We have to have something!" Maya crouched, pawing through both briefcases. "Anything, we know Pathos did it!"
     But their information was worse than double-edged; Stewart worked with music sense and Morna Beasley had invoked it and Pathos hunted it like vermin. Every clue in Phoenix's arsenal dripped with secret sources and extrasensory knowledge and if it weren't for Agents, no, there wouldn't be a thing suspicious about Sior Pathos, would there? No credible witnesses, no hard evidence, not even a murder weapon: maybe Phoenix could stall, he had to and his mind raced, clawed and found nothing--
     "I-I ..."



     The alt satillite only carried broadband, the backup frequencies crackled dead, she could reroute and strip everything to its code and hack around any interference ever emitted but only if she had that kind of time--
     SP says no link to B, Missy's infrasound chattered, long-short-long in thrumming awareness, team crit. U got them back?
     Another ping to the Special Ops com links -- not that it would help, Foxx knew as she watched the loading bar crawl. But what else was there? Think in Morse, think around the throb in her head and jitter her heel with purpose--
     No link yet. What more could she say? Even if she could speak to Phoenix and Maya, she was intelligence with databases full of nothing.
     And J's faltering beats, from shoes clutched in his hands: Assist?
     Foxx straightened. This was Phoenix Wright but this was the fate of more than a target; this was the Agency and their way of life and everyone they had ever looked out for, everyone who had ever faced fear.
     In public, and SP senses, she tapped.
     N/m!
     And Section Three-Eighteen of the code wouldn't like it, but Missy was right -- that didn't matter. Queasy courage moved Foxx's fingers on the keys, hitting sequences she knew like names. If she couldn't be intelligence, she could still do her job. Foxx swallowed.

     "All Agents, come in, priority red."
      "Hey, Foxxie."
     "Read you."
     "On my way!"
      "Hello, is it me you're lookin' for?"
     Morris, Derek, Starr, Spin: friends and family and life itself. Link the band frequencies, adjust the buffers, don't think about the distance logistics or her hands would shake harder--
     "We need backup, team," Foxx murmured -- it was a mission, any mission and every mission, rallying a team and ignoring the odds -- "The courthouse, middle-east side, target is Mr. Wright at the defense bench. Missy and J have visuals."
     "Reporting."
     The voice of reason -- something near a smile warmed Foxx's face.
     "Chieftain," she said, "Any suggestions?"
     "Don't think. Just feel it -- all of it."
     For once, Foxx was going to truly listen to him.
     "Ten-four," and he pushed her chair back, stood and circled her desk; Foxx shivered and burned inside and she tapped:
     Tri assist. Lead us in.
     4/4 time, Nick desp, u know him, tangled and garbled with J's hurry!

     Starr swept in from nowhere, blonde and red and sure; she took Foxx's flank, familiar but backward because she never--
     "Okay, ready." She smiled in Foxx's peripheral vision. "Go for it."
     Because Foxx could feel Phoenix already, the bristling brace against his stand and the fire he flew with, and the sheepish way he smiled. The resounding open court, and lies too sturdy to break but Phoenix stared blue-hard and piano built higher, resounded in Foxx's veins--

     "A-All right. Alpha set. Four-four time."
     She squared and stood taller, shifting in time with Starr and with all of them.
     "Are you ready?"



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I solemnly swear, upon Mia's D-cups full of justice, that if writing the next chapter kills me with awesome, I shall walk the earth undead until this story is told.

*Jedi handwave*It's always been Wikthology. Pyra didn't think she was making Wiktionary up. Nothing to see here.

Right, so, it's the only time this guy's dialogue will be admissable for lyric-spotting, so get on it! Name the song and the artist, win a drabble! Hurry, hurry, step right up, win something for the little lady!