Amicus Curiae (Ace Attorney Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: The Prosecutor's Office

Amicus Curiae Chapter 2

Phoebe's alarm clock woke me up from my dreamless sleep. I turned my head to see Phoebe wave her hand around, trying to find the snooze button, and then I heard a thud as the alarm clock fell on the floor. "Ugh, I don't like alarm clocks," she mumbled, before turning over and pulling the covers back over herself. I sighed; Phoebe had never been a morning person when we were in school, and it seemed that mornings were still her least favourite part of the day. Since she had set the alarm clock for my sake (so I wouldn't be late for the meeting with Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth) I didn't bother to wake her properly. I got up and went into the kitchen to make breakfast and tea.

I had only been living in Phoebe's apartment for two days, so I  still had trouble finding things in her kitchen. Eventually I found everything I needed, and was just finishing my bowl of porridge when Phoebe finally entered the kitchen. "Morning, Celia," she said, still sounding a bit sleepy. She poured herself a cup of tea and made herself two pieces of toast before sitting down at the table. "When is your meeting?" Phoebe asked.
"At ten o'clock. But since I don't know where the Chief Prosecutor's office is in the building, I would like to get there early, if that's alright."
"Oh, sure. Besides, if you got there late, it wouldn't be good for your first impression, would it?"
"No, it would not," I replied, thinking about my first day of high school, when I was half an hour late for my first class because I'd gone to the wrong room by mistake and hadn't realised that I was in the wrong class (for the same subject) until half an hour into it. My friends had never let me forget that.
As if reading my mind, Phoebe said, "Remember that time you were half an hour late because you went to the wrong lesson? Jess's catchphrase became 'be on time, Cornelia Chime!' after that."
I laughed. "Yes, I do remember that. And I'll have you know that since I became a prosecutor seven years ago, I have not been late for a single trial!"
"Really? Not a single one?"
"No, and I don't want to be late for the meeting either. I'd better go and get dressed."

With that, I returned to the bedroom to do so. I put on the clothes that I usually wore to work: a white long sleeved shirt, white pants, a long red coat with gold buttons and white cuffs (which had cost my parents a pretty penny when they bought it for me a few years ago) and black boots. I finished by opening the small, black box sitting on the bedside table, and pinning my prosecutor's badge on my lapel. I made sure to take good care of it, and I always made sure to put it back in its box as soon as I got home from work-as such, I had never lost it. After getting dressed I went into the bathroom, where Phoebe was brushing her teeth. I set to work trying to wrestle my long, bronze curls into a tidy state with a hairbrush. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I put the things I'd need that day into my case to take to work. Normally I'd put in the papers and evidence for any current cases, some empty binders to put new paperwork in, my notebook (for taking notes on crime scenes, testimony, and other things) and other stationary. Today I just put in the empty binders and stationary, since I didn't have and cases (obviously). I was worried that I might need more than that, but nothing came to mind, so I just picked up my wallet (which I put in my pocket) and my case and went to meet Phoebe in the lobby of the building.

We talked during the drive to the Prosecutor's Office. We talked about my past cases (which had been murder cases more often than not), although Phoebe began to get a little upset after a while so I changed the topic. We had just begun reminiscing about the days when we were in school when we arrived at the office. I thanked Phoebe for the ride and told her I'd ring her when I needed picking up. Phoebe had  her own job to get to; she worked in a cafe somewhere. She waited for me to enter the building before driving off.

It was half past nine, according to the clock on the wall behind the front desk. A man who couldn't be much older than me was standing behind the front desk. His name badge said "Reece Seption".
"Good morning," I said. "My name is Cornelia Chime. I just transferred here." I got my ID card out to show him.
"Ah, yes, Miss Chime! Welcome to the Los Angeles Prosecutor's Office. You've got a meeting with Mr Edgeworth at ten, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Great, I'll just go let him know you're here. You're a bit early, but then again, he likes people who make a habit of getting here early." Mr Seption went to make a phone call. I studied my surroundings while he did this. The lobby's walls were a clean, simple white, and the front desk was a broken, unpainted wooden one-a bit like a courtroom bench, in fact. There were a few chairs along with a rectangular wooden table. Some men (detectives! I guessed) were drinking coffee there while discussing a case, by the sound of it. A couple of other people were waiting for the elevator to arrive.