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Pointing dramatically at the air, Phoenix cried, “So it’s obvious to me that the killer was wearing THIS maid costume when SHE did the deed!”
The crowd gasped, and the Judge showed an appropriate amount of shock at this revelation. Phoenix looked satisfied with himself, a rare expression for him in this courtroom. Surely the case would be solved now, and suspicion pointed away from his client. The Prosecutor of the Week, an older woman with a strange penchant for the color yellow, simply folded her arms. “…’She,’ you say. Yet I see no reason why our foppish young defendant didn’t don the outfit HIMself!”
“Excuse me?!” Edgeworth cried, leaning forward in his chair. It creaked ominously; he’d been in the damn thing so many times that he was considering petitioning the court to have it replaced. Or at least reupholstered. The defendants’ chair smelled of guilt and cheap aftershave and Edgeworth hated it.
It’d taken them the whole day to get to this: the maid outfit found stuffed in a dumbwaiter at the crime scene. Their brilliant investigators had, of course, overlooked it completely. Phoenix stumbled across it when he was trying to dispose of a gum wrapper (the café had been shut down since the murder, and nobody could find a trash can). The blood splatters on the outfit were consistent with the murder weapon and the victim. There was no doubt in the court’s mind now that the murderer was wearing it.
Edgeworth had, as usual, been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The outfits that they forced the waitresses to wear at that café were atrocious, but through some exclusive trade agreement they were the only place in the area that served a certain variety of tea that Edgeworth loved. He had stopped by to enjoy a kettle when screams arose from the kitchens. Lots of police bumbling and two edicts from the Prosecutor’s Office later, Edgeworth found himself accused of murder. Again.
Gumshoe stood in for the bailiff, having wiggled his way into this trial with his unique brand of persuasion. He felt some degree of responsibility for Edgeworth’s fate, since he had agreed to meet the Prosecutor there for lunch. Being in charge of Edgeworth’s tea (and, since September of last year, his personal time—if you get my drift, gentle reader) made him knowledgeable in such matters. He had discovered the café and brought it to Edgeworth’s attention. Unfortunately, when the murder occurred, he had been in the bathroom trying to get a stubborn stain out of his collar (Edgeworth hated when he ate like a “rampaging warthog” and his clothing became dirty). By the time he emerged sans stain (with a large wet spot on his shoulder) Edgeworth was already in handcuffs.
None of this mattered to Phoenix, who tenaciously defended his client and sought only to find the truth. “Are you suggesting, Mrs. Charlene Truce, that Edgeworth removed his cravat and overcoat, put on a maid outfit, killed Aubergine, stuffed the outfit in a dumbwaiter, changed back into his suit, and returned to his table to finish his tea?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” the Prosecutor replied tersely, folding her arms. She raised a brow at Phoenix in challenge. He stood there, dumbfounded, his lip curled slightly. Edgeworth huffed, perhaps trying to telepathically spur Phoenix into taking this line of logic somewhere. Everyone else waited patiently.
Maya finally poked the Defense and he coughed. “Well, uh, madam. That’s… not… a GOOD… suggestion.”
“And why not, White?” She had misheard his name from day one and had taken to calling him that ever since.
“Because.” He stared at Edgeworth. Edgeworth narrowed his eyes and pulled angrily on a cufflink. “BECAUSE—“ Phoenix pointed triumphantly at Miles. “—There’s no way it could fit! Those outfits are made for WOMEN. Not MEN!”
“That’s a foolish assumption, White. Men wear women’s clothing all the time. Look at your defendant! He’s wearing lace!”
“It’s a CRAVAT,” Edgeworth spat, fluffing it angrily. Gumshoe nodded in agreement. “And besides, the blood splatter was much too low on the wall to be consistent with that theory. If I wore the dress, the bottom of the skirt would fall at least a foot higher!”
Of course, Phoenix was Edgeworth’s attorney, not the other way around. The Judge simply ignored Edgeworth and Phoenix sighed. “The blood splatter is consistent with a fem—a PERSON wearing that costume that is around five feet in height. Edgeworth is 5’9”.”
The Judge finally nodded in understanding. “That’s right. That’s right.”
“You’re assuming the outfit would fit Edgeworth in the same way it would fit a woman,” Truce pushed, lips curling into a sadistic grin. “But it would obviously fall differently on a man.”
“For God’s sake! What do you want me to do?! Try it on?!” Edgeworth cried, slamming his hands on the wooden railing before him.
Truce turned to him, her tongue snaking out to lick the corner of her mouth. “Well, now that you mention it…”
Edgeworth nearly flew out of his chair and into the Prosecutor’s bench, but Phoenix stopped him. Grabbing his shoulder, he leaned in close. “She thinks she has you, man. That you won’t try it on. I know it’s humiliating and stupid but if you do it, it’ll prove without a doubt that you weren’t the culprit.”
Even when Nick was acting in Edgeworth’s defense, Edgeworth really hated when he was right. “Fine.” He stood, speaking to the Judge. “FINE. I’ll try on the costume. But—not here, in front of all of you. I’d prefer to do it somewhere more… private.”
Phoenix smiled. “The bailiff can escort him to the Judge’s personal restroom. Do you agree to that, Judge? Once he’s changed, the three of us—You, Mrs. Truce and I—will take a look at him. It will prove BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT that Edgeworth is innocent!”
Truce seemed to turn a shade closer to the yellow jacket she wore. Maya looked disappointed; she was all geared up to see Miles in this hilarious costume. Leaning close to Nick, she said, “Take a picture for me, ok? I wanna see it later!”
“You will do no such thing!” Miles cried, and the court gasped. “I mean… Not without the Judge’s permission. May I use your personal restroom, Judge?”
“Anything to serve the greater good!” the Judge agreed heartily. He was rather curious to see, himself. “Gumshoe? Please take the costume and escort the defendant to my personal bathroom.”
Gumshoe jumped into action, gathering Edgeworth up and leading him to the front of the courtroom. After a bit more discussion and gathering of supplies, the court called a short recess. They were in the Judge’s rather expansive personal bathroom soon thereafter. It smelled very strongly of antiseptic and Edgeworth had to lean against the sink to get his bearings. Gumshoe unlocked his cuffs and stood awkwardly before him.
“Are you going to watch me the whole time?” Edgeworth asked in annoyance, sliding a finger into his cravat to loosen it.
Frowning, Gumshoe replied, “Got to, sir. You know the procedure. If I take my eyes off of you and you escape, then it’ll be my ass!”
“You know I won’t escape, Dick!” Edgeworth sighed, though he knew Gumshoe was right. If someone caught him waiting outside, then he’d be severely punished.
Instead, Gumshoe was accommodating to Miles as always. He helped him neatly fold his clothing as he undressed, keeping it in a safe place on the sink so that it would be intact when he had to dress again. Soon Edgeworth was down to his maroon bikini briefs; he regretted that choice of underwear for that day. If Nick had warned him of this… But, of course, Nick didn’t know the trial would take this direction. At the beginning of the day, Nick never knew what the hell his plan of attack was.
Gumshoe’s eyes stayed on Miles, though they were alive with a new appreciation, now. It was nice to know that his partner was still as attracted to him as the first time he got to see his body, but would he feel the same way after seeing him in this ridiculous costume?
It was fairly simple in design; a red velvet bodice that tied in the back with white ribbon, and a black skirt that puffed out over a frilly white petticoat. There were white thigh highs as well; the originals had bloodstains on them, so they procured another pair for Edgeworth to wear so that they could compare the stains’ locations. Sitting on the spacious counter beside the sink, he rolled up the stockings and pulled them as high as they would go, which was a couple inches above the knee. Completely silent, Gumshoe handed him the silky black garter belt. He had to stretch it to get it to go around his waist and force it to buckle. Once the garter straps were attached to the stockings, they dug into his skin somewhat. This effect made his member seem all the more prominent, framed by them as it was.
“God, if it’s already this tight—“ Edgeworth groaned, reaching for the petticoat. Once he pulled it up to his buttocks it would go no higher. He had to shimmy and jump in place to pull it over them. Edgeworth turned away from Gumshoe and glared at him in the large mirror over the sink. “Don’t laugh at me,” he blurted, skin flushing red.
Clearing his throat, Gumshoe shook his head. “Never, sir,” he said gruffly.
He was likely fighting to hold in the laughter; this was the most quiet he had seen Gumshoe since they met.
“Alright. One last piece. The stupid dress.” He tried to stick his arms into it and pull it down over his head, but his shoulders were much too broad. “Help me!” he squeaked at Gumshoe, wiggling his fingers as his arms flailed awkwardly, forced straight up above his head. Dick reached forward and grabbed the skirt, jerking it down. “Don’t rip it!!”
Gumshoe had seen him at his most helpless and ridiculous without passing judgment. But this humiliation was almost unbearable. They couldn’t get the dress down simply by pulling on it. “Maybe we should, um… grease you up.”
“Like a blasted PIG?” Edgeworth complained, head half emerging from the neck of the dress.
A bottle of lotion sat on the corner of the counter. Gumshoe grabbed it up, squirting it onto his hands and beginning to rub Edgeworth’s torso carefully. “Just relax, sir… Pretend this is like that Saturday we stayed in and—“
“PLEASE don’t speak about sexual escapades right now, Detective,” Edgeworth rasped, squirming uncomfortably under his partner’s caresses. The Judge’s Old Man cream was nothing like the expensive oils that Dick had rubbed slowly into his skin—dammit!! That was not the time!
“Sorry.”
After a few moments of work, they were able to get Edgeworth’s skin slick enough to slide the dress down to mid-stomach. Then it would go no further. The only reason why it fit his shoulders was because of the untied bodice. Stubbornly turning his back to the mirror, Edgeworth tried to tie it himself by looking over his shoulder. That endeavor proved fruitless and he sighed heavily. “Please, Gumshoe…” he breathed, turning slightly.
Dick nodded dumbly, taking one loop at a time and pulling them tight until the bodice came together a reasonable amount. The fit of the dress exaggerated Edgeworth’s waist, cutting inward to give him the appearance of a much more feminine physique. Edgeworth could barely breathe, his back arrow-straight as he leaned against the counter like a Barbie doll. With a last bit of tugging, Gumshoe tied it and the outfit was complete.
“Finally.” Edgeworth tried to stand up straight and could only do so with concerted effort. He glared at himself in the mirror as Gumshoe looked on. “Curses!” The fluffiness of the petticoat, along with the shortness of the dress, left his rear end almost completely exposed. He jutted his hips, pulling the skirt down as far as he could, but that only served to reveal his beautifully framed package. “You’re going to have to walk behind me, Detective, or everyone will see my—derriere.”
“Of course,” Gumshoe agreed, slowly shuffling behind him.
They stood there for a moment until Edgeworth sighed in frustration. “You have to cuff me again, Detective. Procedure and all that, remember?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” He pulled the cuffs from the inner pocket of his coat, reaching around Edgeworth to slap them onto his wrists. It was then that Miles felt something press against his nearly exposed buttock.
Turning slightly, he breathed, “Detective… Was that… your gun?”
Gumshoe stammered. He almost never carried his weapon; he hated guns, after all, and for this trial especially he didn’t want anything to go wrong that would possibly hurt his defendant.
“DICK,” Edgeworth pressed. “You’re… aroused, aren’t you?”
Looking as if he might cry, Gumshoe said, “I’m sorry, sir! I can’t help it! I tried! I tried to think about baseball and Ms. Oldbag and even crime scenes but when you started jumpin’ around—“ When Edgeworth seemed unconvinced he twiddled his fingers nervously, locking the cuffs and stepping back. “Let’s go, let’s just go and get this over with, sir!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Edgeworth hissed. “We can’t waltz out there if you have an erection! What the hell will everyone say!?” They hadn’t exactly been public about their relationship, to begin with.
“What do I do?! It won’t go away!”
“Goddammit.” Leaning against the counter, Edgeworth stared at their reflections in the mirror. He couldn’t even jab his knee into Gumshoe’s privates, as he could barely move in that getup. And now he was handcuffed! And then what if that was construed as an escape attempt? It certainly wouldn’t speak well to his innocence. They gazed helplessly into each other’s eyes for a long moment; Gumshoe, impulsive as always, pressed himself against Edgeworth again. “Gumshoe—“
“I’ll be quick, sir.”
“What are you trying to—“
He fell to his knees, pulling Edgeworth’s underwear down to the top of his stockings.
“Dick!”
He kissed Edgeworth’s thighs, nuzzling against the soft skin. Edgeworth heard the sound of Gumshoe’s zipper, and then he groaned softly. He grabbed the lotion bottle and it disappeared below the counter. Spreading Edgeworth with one hand, he slid his tongue upward until it was teasing his entrance.
“Aaah—“
The sound of skin on skin told Edgeworth that Gumshoe was going to take care of the problem himself. As his partner moaned and tasted him, Miles was horrified to discover that he was responding to it.
“Dick…”
“Mmmnh…”
“Don’t… haah… be selfish… My hands are cuffed…”
“Mmnh?”
Gritting his teeth, Edgeworth glared at his flushed cheeks in the mirror. “I’m hard.”
Gumshoe finally got the message and stood again. Without a word, he reached around to wrap his fingers around Edgeworth’s member, hand still slick with lotion and his own precum. As he stroked, Edgeworth felt Gumshoe’s thick cock sliding between his thighs. Strong hands jerked Edgeworth backward, willing him to stand up straight.
Head on Edgeworth’s shoulder, Gumshoe watched in the mirror as he pulled his partner back just enough. His cock peeked out from beneath the petticoat. The soft lace shuffled slightly as Gumshoe’s hand moved. Thrusting slowly, he adjusted Edgeworth still more until they could both see the head of Dick’s member peeking between those thighs with each jerk of his hips.
“Dick… I never knew… you were into this kind of thing…”
Growling against Edgeworth’s skin, Gumshoe replied, “You make me realize a lot of stuff about m’self…”
All Edgeworth could do was brace himself against the counter with manicured fingertips as Gumshoe used him. Soon he was biting back his moans, barely keeping in mind that they were in the middle of a trial and the recess would end soon.
“God…” Miles whined, thighs shivering as his legs became weak.
Cursing deep in his throat, Dick bent Edgeworth over the counter again and grabbed the lotion bottle. “Spread your legs… sir…”
He could only spread them so far with his underwear around his thighs, and the lotion was less than ideal. But somehow that added to the humiliation and made it all the more arousing. Slowly but with a raw urgency, Gumshoe pushed inside him. With a low moan, Edgeworth did his best to adjust to the intrusion.
When he came, he couldn’t leave any trace of it. Shifting, Edgeworth brought his cuffed hands down, which pressed his shoulder roughly against the marble countertop. He cupped the head of his member carefully, though the position was even more uncomfortable.
“Make sure you finish inside me,” Edgeworth breathed, face flushing even deeper crimson.
Hips beginning to build speed, Gumshoe replied, “Sir?”
“Can’t leave semen all over the place. No trace. Finish inside me.”
“Yes, sir…”
The next few moments were quiet, save for the sounds of their heavy breathing echoing against the white tile walls. Gumshoe’s thrusts became more erratic, rougher, as his hand pumped and squeezed Edgeworth more quickly. With his free hand, Gumshoe pushed the skirt upward. With every pump of his hips the lace dipped down to kiss Edgeworth’s smooth skin. He slowed for just a moment, watching himself slide in and out of the Prosecutor’s prone body. His hand slid downward, feeling his lover’s skin beneath the tight, silky stockings. He wanted more of this…
“Gumshoe…” Edgeworth begged, rolling his hips so that his partner would pick up the pace.
“No trace, right?” He stopped stroking Edgeworth’s member, grabbing his hips and pinning him hard against the counter. Before Edgeworth could answer or protest, Gumshoe was fucking him so roughly his legs lifted off of the floor. Miles bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out as Dick finished, slamming against him as he emptied himself.
Miles was still half erect, completely unsatisfied, as Gumshoe pulled out, wiped himself clean and zipped up. “Selfish…” Edgeworth complained.
Turning him around, Gumshoe fell to his knees. “You know me better than that, sir.” He wanted to feel more of his partner’s skin, hands caressing his stocking-clad legs as he wrapped his lips around Edgeworth’s member. Sighing in pleasure, Miles held his cock steady as Gumshoe’s head began to move.
Dick’s calloused fingertips traveled upward, over Miles’ stomach, dipping beneath the garter belt. It was so tight that it bit into Miles’ skin; Dick snapped it and Miles winced. “You’re enjoying this a little too much, Detecti--- aahh… Haahnnn….” Gumshoe’s fingers slid around to grope Edgeworth’s ass, teasing the slick entrance he had just been abusing. Groaning, Miles began to thrust against the Detective’s mouth, cuffed hands rising to hold his head still. He tried to watch just as Dick had done a few moments before, but the damnable petticoat was in the way. It didn’t stop his pleasure from reaching that sweet peak, however… With a sharp, quiet cry, he finished and Gumshoe sucked him dry.
In the quiet that reigned after, they heard the Judge’s gavel announcing that court was back in session. Gumshoe helped Miles pull his underwear back up. They shared a quick kiss and finally made their way out to the Judge’s chambers.
In the blissful afterglow of his orgasm, Miles only sort of felt humiliated under the scrutiny of Truce and the Judge (Wright mostly looked at the ceiling). They circled around him, comparing him to the crime scene photos of blood splatter.
“Truce, this insistence that Prosecutor Edgeworth was wearing the maid costume—It’s ridiculous!” the Judge cried. “I had misgivings about it from the start. Look how—TERRIBLY high up that skirt is.” He turned beet red as he examined Miles’ thighs. “The blood splatters don’t match AT ALL.”
Phoenix nodded and grabbed the skirt, pulling it down in the front. This move conveniently hid Miles’ crotch from his gaze. “You see where the blood is right here? If Edgeworth had been wearing it, it would be up on the wall HERE.” He pointed to the crime scene photos.
Truce was completely silent. She’d been had.
“Edgeworth, quit squirming,” Phoenix whispered. “I’m gonna get you off, don’t worry.”
If only the Defense knew that getting off was exactly WHY he was squirming… Though having this reminder of Gumshoe wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
God, this horrendous outfit was turning him into some sort of fetishist!
“Now that I think about it, Miss Truce, YOU’RE about five feet tall!”
In the yelling that ensued, everyone forgot that the Demon Prosecutor was wearing a maid outfit until he pounded his hands on the Judge’s desk and completely ripped the bodice.
By the end of day three, they established that Truce did the deed. The victim was her husband’s mistress. They had just moved to the city so that Truce could start her new job at the Prosecutor’s Office, but while she worked tirelessly to convict criminals, her husband dallied at the maid café. So she snuck in, disguised herself as one of the waitstaff and beat the girl to death. But when she stepped out of the kitchen and saw Edgeworth in the dining room, she panicked and feared he would recognize her. So, of course, she found a way to blame him instead.
Gumshoe snuck into the evidence room and stole the stockings that Edgeworth tried on for the trial. When the time is right, he’ll ask the Prosecutor to wear them again.