Caught

Chapter One

The bottle tightly clasped within her hand, Dahlia Hawthorne was hiding. Not really hiding, per say - someone could see her if they stood right in the middle of the room, and glanced towards the English section. But, for now, it was only herself in the room, and she was content with that. She studied the evidence in her hand, fingers running down the sides of the glass, and wondered how she was going to dispose of it.

It wasn't as if she could go back and stuff it back into the cabinets where it came from. Obviously someone would notice it, would notice how the poison had been emptied. It was only a matter of time until Doug found out, but she could handle him if things got out of hand. But what if the department found out it was missing? Perhaps she could shift the blame to someone else, someone who could also be easily disposable.

At the exact time the thought flitted through, a student from Ivy came through the doors.

Eyes narrowing, Dahlia shifted her position and peered at him through a crack in the shelf. Didn't she recognize him? If she did, it was only because they passed by each other briefly, most likely on campus. And, since it was a big campus, they'd probably have only seen each other a few times, at the most. So, basically, he was perfect.

Smoothing her hair down, it seemed a switch had gone off. She wasn't the dark-eyed raging monster she was a few moments ago. Now, she was red-cheeked, her eyes soft and warm, her aura glowing a warm, innocent shade. Her mental moods had changed as well (they had to, otherwise she'd be distracted by the thoughts of murder swimming around) and now she was twirling a lock of red hair around her finger, the bottle in her other hand forgotten.

Breathing in, she slowly stepped over to where the boy was reading something.

"Excuse me," she asked, and the tone sounded foreign, even to her ears. It was high, melodic - unlike the normal tone she usually carried. "I was just... um... over there, checking out things for school, and I was wondering.. well, I've seen you in school..." Her cheeks went red and she scratched the back of her neck, a sheepish look on her features.

He laughed, almost seeming awkwardly, and straightened his posture. "No, I've... I've seen you around campus. You're in literature, right?"

"Yes," she answered. "I'm doing research here. And I'm assuming you're here for Law, correct?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her, holding out his hand. "I'm Phoenix Wright, by the way."

"Dahlia Hawthorne," she answered brightly, letting him shake her hand. Time to play up the charm. The bottle suddenly felt heavy in her hand, and she wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. "I know it seems quite... forward of me to say this, but I need to get it off my chest. I know I've only seen you around a few times, but... I like you quite a lot."

A look of surprise flitted across his face. "Really?"

She tipped her head down. "Yes."

I honestly hate you- "We should hang out some time," he said brightly, and smiled at her. She couldn't help but return it, although inside she was feeling less than happy. "Here, just write down your number." He ripped off a piece of paper from the notebook he was holding and slid it to Dahlia, who grabbed a pen a pen off the table.

"Alright." She scribbled a random number off the top of her head, and passed it to him. "Here you go."

"I'll call you," he said, and went to turn, but Dahlia touched his arm.

"Um, I..." She bit her lip, wondering just how to go about this. "Just to make sure you don't forget to call me, here, have this." She unclenched her left hand, revealing the blue glass bottle. "I've been saving it for awhile... I know it's a necklace, and that's kind of girly, but please keep it... if you want. Just don't forget to call me, alright?"

She had pressed the bottle into his hand and darted away before he could even reply. Blowing air from her lips, it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Now all she had to do was wait a few weeks for the suspicion on her to subside, and then "accidentally" run into Phoenix, saying she wanted her necklace back and that she "happened" to lose her phone somewhere. Accidents happen, right? Haha, well it was nice knowing you. And then leave, never to be seen in this general area again.

Outside, she breathed in the cool air.

Somewhere, she hoped that stupid, idiotic defense attorney was dying slowly. It would make her feel better if she saw it somewhere in the news tomorrow, but she just had to hope for now. She flicked open her parasol, adjusted it, and started down the street, humming quietly to herself.

Coma.

All her hard work, and he had only been put into a stupid coma. She had almost throttled her source right there and then, but merely smiled. "Oh, is he? That's too bad," she had fibbed lightly, acting as if she was sympathetic, but in reality she was seeing dark spots. Her fists clenched, she had stormed out, feeling as though all her work had gone to waste. The stealing, the subtle pour into the coffee, giving the bottle off to the damn student-

"Dahlia!" -who was right behind her.

Stopping, she turned, only to see the same Phoenix Wright from a week ago barreling down the street. Her anger increased tenfold, but she pushed it down, and smiled instead. At least now she could get the bottle back. "Phoenix," she said happily, her smile growing wider. "Have you forgotten to call me?"

"That's the thing," he told her, breathing roughly as he came to a stop in front of her. "I've tried calling you for the past week, and yet it keeps saying the number's not in service. Got any idea what that means?" He scratched his head.

"Oh, no," she said quietly. "I thought that might happen. I'm sorry-"

"No, it's okay!" he interrupted brightly. "Since we're here now, I can just ask you! Why don't we go see a movie tomorrow? I heard there's a really good new one downtown."

Dahlia brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um... I don't know. You don't even know where I live-"

He shrugged. "I can just walk you home now and come back tomorrow. Easy as that."

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, Dahlia smiled again. "I'd love that, honestly, but I'm not planning on going right home. I have to run a few errands, pick up a few things for school-"

"That's fine!" She was starting to get annoyed at his interruptions. "I don't have anywhere to be."

I hate you so much- "Actually, the errands can wait. You can walk me home." She looped her arm through his and they both started down the sidewalk again. Her parasol dangled limply on her other arm. "Thank you. No one's ever gone to so much trouble just to see me again."

"Really?" he asked curiously. "A girl as pretty as you?"

"I've had my fair share of stalkers," she mused, remembering one particularly nasty one back when she was fifteen. He had been promptly taken care of. "But I've never actually had a sweet guy pursue me. Most of them get bored if I don't respond, you know?" Why couldn't you have been one of those guys?

He laughed. "That must suck."

"You know it." She laughed with him, and then cleared her throat. Her eyes locked on the bottle hanging off his neck, and she gripped his arm tighter without knowing. "So, um... Remember the necklace I gave you? I was kind of wondering-"

"I've been wearing it every day since we've met," he said, and Dahlia resisted the urge to yell. Can you please STOP interrupting me? "Haven't taken it off. Not once. It's actually quite nice, you know, once you get past the girly fact. But when people ask me about, I tell them that it's from a pretty girl, and they usually stop asking."

Her cheeks colored, besides herself. "Aw, how sweet. No, but-"

"So what have you been up to me?" he asked, glancing down at her. "You seem like a reading-in-nature-with-butterflies type of girl to me."

She laughed. "I do like butterflies," she said. "But I prefer to be inside."

"Really?"

"Really," she answered. Her mouth and cheeks were staring to become sore from smiling so much. "But I really should-"

"But I forgot to ask you!" If you interrupt me one more time, I will claw your eyes out, with no regrets. "What exactly where you researching in the reading room? There's not many good books there, and everything is centered around law. You don't seem like a true crime kind of reader or writer."

"You'd be surprised," she murmured.

"Huh," he said, seeming pleasantly surprised. "What were you reading about?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, and mindlessly shrugged. "Just about a small case way back when, about a strangling. Nothing too big." She yawned, and pointed to a row of apartment buildings in front of them. "I'm on the second floor, third one from the left. You can see, my window has the pink curtains in front of them..."

He nodded, taking them down in his head. "Alright. I'll be here tomorrow, at three."

"I'll be waiting."

Starting back down the way they came, he waved to her. "Bye, Dahlia!" he called, and she waved back, waiting until he was out of sight.

A sharp huff came from her lips, and she shook her head, brushing off her dress off. And the stupid idiot hadn't even given her a chance to ask if she could have the bottle back! No matter, she had tomorrow. Unless...

Brain ticking, she hurried upstairs, waving to an elderly woman who lived below her. Instead her own home, she hung up the parasol on her coat hanger and sat down, picking up the phone and dialing the number. Normally, they hadn't allowed phones at the Temple, but Dahlia had convinced Iris to get one, just in case. For times like this.

The phone rung for awhile, until finally a breathless voice answered. "Hello?"

"Iris," chirped Dahlia, gazing down at her fingernails. "I have to ask you something."

There was a rustle on the other end as Dahlia's twin found a place to sit. Dahlia thanked the heavens that Iris was dumb, and had never figured out that it was her idea to send her away to the isolated Temple. She had always blamed their father, and Dahlia liked it that way. "Okay, sure. I'm all ears."

Twirling her hair, Dahlia grinned. "You know how you've always wanted to visit my campus?"

"Yes."

"How about you come up here, then?" she asked. "Just for a few months, nothing major."

"Nothing major?" Iris asked, sounding skeptical. "I... I know you, Dahlia. You want something in return. What is it?"

A sharp laugh came from Dahlia's mouth. "Nothing big, dear sister. You just have to pretend to be me."

"Pretend to be you?"

"Don't worry, it'll be fun. I'll dye your hair, and teach you the ways of being Dahlia Hawthorne."

There was another rustle, and then a soft sigh as Iris considered everything. "Okay, I'll go. But only because I'd like to see the campus, and you." A scratching noise filled the speaker. "When should I come?"

"Tomorrow?" Dahlia hoped.

"I'd be there on Friday, at the latest if I left tomorrow morning," said Iris, and Dahlia sighed.

I'll have to suffer through one date, won't I?

"Alright, alright. Just call me when you arrive at the station." She hung up, slamming the phone back down, only to have another sharp ringing fill the air. I swear, Iris, I will hurt you- "What?" she asked, voice clipped.

"Dahlia. We need to talk."

Ahh! I'm so nervous about this, haha. I've always loved Dahlia, and I was wondering what everything would be like from her POV. (I don't know if this has been done before, ha.) But I was also wondering what it would be like if she ended up actually caring for Phoenix, and possibly Iris - but that's pushing it.

So, I wrote this!

I know this chapter is short, but I'm currently writing more. ^^

Review~