samuraiprosecutor: (Dear God...)
[personal profile] samuraiprosecutor
Who: Edgeworth, Lucky Luciano
What: An interrogation is interrupted in the worst best way possible
Where: Down at the precinct
When: Evening


Edgeworth couldn't have said what this quake was on the Richter scale. He couldn't have said much of anything at first. Even a minor quake was enough to turn him into a quivering, pathetic pile on the floor; something of this magnitude was enough to leave him all but catatonic.

By the time he started to come back to his senses, the interrogation room had been completely transformed. For starters, it was no longer a room to speak of. Edgeworth was curled up in one corner of a misshapen, cramped chamber that looked more like a cave than the spare room he had 'left' minutes before. The darkness felt tight around him, and his breathing, already far too quick, sped up even further, filling his lungs with thick, dusty air.

"God... Oh God..." The room seemed to smother his words. He pushed himself up on one elbow and raised his voice. "Miller? ...Detective?"
samuraiprosecutor: (Holy...?!)
[personal profile] samuraiprosecutor
Who: Edgeworth, Benny "Bugsy" Siegel, Lucky Luciano
What: Not exactly a dinner date...
Where: Random made up restaurant in LA
When: Late evening
Warnings: Self-righteous lawyer who doesn't know when to quit + sexy hot-blooded mafia boys = possible (probable?) violence, strong language


By the time Edgeworth was coming to the end of his dinner, Bel Cibo had mostly emptied. Not that it had been that crowded to begin with; the restaurant was a true hole-in-the-wall, an authentic little family-owned secret far from the trendier, more popular places he usually favored. This was one of the places he went when several long, hard work days (or weeks) in a row drove him away from most human contact and into the warm embrace of his favorite comfort foods and the polite but distant company of an expert waiter.

A bell jingled softly in the quiet restaurant, heralding the arrival of what would probably be some of the last patrons of the evening. Edgeworth sliced off another bite of his veal and took a few moments to savor it before finally glancing at the door. But the mildest of interest turned suddenly to a sharp glare as he saw the men standing in the door, framed by its leaded glass window. He had only met the one in person, but he knew all too well who both men were.