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Edgeworth’s office had always had an air of permanence about it. To anyone who visited it only once as a client, it likely seemed imposing in its solemnity, as though they were stepping into a room that was being disrupted for the first time in hundreds of years.
Even now, despite over seven years since his last visit – long before Edgeworth’s transfer to the Chief Prosecutor’s office – Phoenix felt that same sense of grandeur rise up. So many things were the same: the pink curtains, the large wall of bookcases, the suit hanging in a frame on the wall… But so many things were different, too. Edgeworth was sitting at his desk, the smallest of smiles on his face, gentle but bright enough to bathe the entire room in its warmth: a smile meant for him and him alone.
“Ah, Wright. Glad to see you could make it.” The prosecutor didn’t get up to greet him but nodded politely to an open seat beside him at the desk.
“Of course I made it; I had to come see if your office was still as stuffy as it was the last time I was here.” He took of his jacket, hanging it on a coat rack next to Edgeworth’s and – huh. “Since when do you look so unprofessional at work, Edgeworth?” Already on the hook was Edgeworth’s own wine-red jacket, leaving him in his white undershirt, black vest, and cravat.
Phoenix pulled out the chair and plopped next to the prosecutor with a cheeky grin. It wasn’t often that he got to see his friend looking even remotely casual, and he hadn’t expected it at the office. It was a good look, to be sure, but also… distracting.
“I believe you once remarked that it made me look ‘less imposing,’ and when I tested the theory, people did seem to relax more around me.” Edgeworth paused, chuckling. “Although, I will admit, during my first few attempts I was rather cold, until I noticed I’d been leaving my window open despite the chilly weather.”
“Well, good job, past me! It’s a nice look on you.”
“Er – well, yes, thank you.” They both sat still for a moment, smiling, until Edgeworth cleared his throat. “Would you like some tea? Lunch should be arriving soon; Gumshoe offered to pick us up some Thai since he was already coming by today.”
“You have a kettle here? Wait – you have a stove here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Wright. I have an entire kitchenette.”
“Ah, yes, how silly of me.”
“Coming from the man who has an entire kitchen attached to his workplace.” Edgeworth placed aside the papers he was leafing through before standing and walking to a small alcove in the back corner that had been hidden from Phoenix’s view when he first entered.
Phoenix followed behind him. “Yeah, but I live there; of course I’m going to have a kitchen. And hey, let me make the tea this time! I’m your guest.”
The prosecutor turned his head, fingers resting on the countertop, eyeing him warily. “The last time I came to your apartment, you absolutely ruined the tea I had brought for you.”
“And then Trucy made me practice for a week so she would never taste anything so horrid ever again. Come on, please?”
There was only a moment of silence before Edgeworth smirked and shook his head, moving backwards to allow Phoenix access to the kitchenette. “Fine. But if you mess up too badly, I won’t let you leave until you’ve drunk the entire kettle’s worth.”
“Oh? And how do you plan on keeping me here?” Phoenix waggled his eyebrows suggestively – just as light ribbing between friends, obviously.
“Hrm… Well, I suppose the simplest method would be to have Gumshoe hold you down for me. That way I am left free to do my work.”
“Ah, boo, you’re no fun.” Phoenix peered through the tempered glass windows of a small cabinet before opening the cupboard and sifting through the many tea types. Most looked expensive, but those were further back, with some scattered recognizable (cheaper) brands at the front on the lowest shelf. He pulled one out – Earl Grey, a black tea he knew the prosecutor favored – and held the box behind himself so Edgeworth could see. “Changing brands, are we?”
“I’ve learned it’s better to have a variety of labels on hand; much like wine, you don’t necessarily want someone to use up your best selection.”
“So, to translate, you bought some before I came to ensure I wouldn’t ruin more of your fancy tea.”
“… Perhaps.”
The electric stove turned on with the twist of a knob and began to slowly heat up. Edgeworth pulled out a kettle from another cabinet and filled it with water, handing it to Phoenix, letting their fingers graze briefly as he transferred it over.
“Hey, sit down, I’m making the tea here. Shoo.” Phoenix’s hands were full with the kettle, so he threateningly waved it in Edgeworth’s direction and nodded towards the desk. ‘Making tea’ meant mostly just being careful to not let the water boil for too long, so Phoenix took another look around the office after placing the pot on the warmed stovetop. “Did it take you long to move everything in here?”
“Not any longer than we expected. My old office is only three floors up, so Gumshoe and I made quick work of it.”
“Did Gumshoe put the chess set up for you, or did you do it yourself?” Near the bookcase wall was the same table chessboard with the blue and red pieces, although now there were two lavish chairs for players to sit at during their game. It was set up normally, rather than in the unusual patterns Phoenix had seen before.
“Myself, as always.”
The kettle began whistling and Phoenix immediately took it off the stove. Cups; they’d need cups to drink with. He looked through the cabinets and grabbed two, along with two strainers, setting them on the small counter space. After measuring out a tablespoon of loose tea leaves and putting them in a strainer, he poured his best approximation of eight fluid ounces through the strainer into the first cup. He gingerly passed the cup over to Edgeworth before getting a second strainer from and working on his own, placing it to the side and putting the teapot on a cool portion of the stove before moving back to his own seat, tea in hand.
Black tea was supposed to steep for two to three minutes – although he supposed he could simply watch Edgeworth for a cue to check. He nursed the warm water-turning-tea in his hands until by some internal tea clock, Edgeworth lifted his strainer from his cup and swirled around the remaining liquid before taking a sip.
“Impressive. It seems that not boiling the water for five minutes and dumping the entire bag of leaves directly into the kettle does wonders for improving the taste of tea.”
“I told you I was sorry!” Phoenix pulled out his own leaves and mimicked Edgeworth’s movements before testing his drink. “Tastes like… weird plant soaked in water.”
“Must you describe it that way every time you drink it? It was a poor joke the first time; now I can only assume you’re saying it to hurt my feelings.” But Edgeworth was still smiling as he took a lemon and some sugar from a drawer of tea supplies to add to his tea. “If so, you’re failing, because we all know that I have excellent taste in everything.”
“Your curtains are pink.”
“Excellent taste, I said.”
A brisk knock at the door, and Gumshoe’s wide frame burst through, holding a large plastic bag. “Hello, sir! And hello, Wright! Real glad to have you back in business, everyone down at the station’s been abuzz with the news since your case with that orca. Oh! And here’s your Thai pickup.” He placed the bag on the desk, pulling out two to-go boxes. “I’d stay and chat, but you know what they say: duty never sleeps!”
“I, uh, don’t think anyone says that, actually?” But Gumshoe had already left the room. “So, Edgeworth, what’d you get from the restaurant?” Phoenix slid one of the boxes his way and opened it before the prosecutor could respond. “Curry?”
“Massaman curry. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Is it… spicy?”
“If you’re asking if this curry dish has spices in it, the answer is yes. If you’re asking if there is any capsaicin in it, the answer is no – and before you ask, yes, capsaicin is the ‘spicy chili thingy’ that I’ve mentioned to you before.”
Phoenix closed his mouth, stifling the question Edgeworth knew he’d been about to ask. “Okay, thanks. Could’ve just said ‘no’ though…” He grumbled the last bit as he scooped up some rice and curry with a spoon and took a large mouthful.
They continued chatting as they ate, conversation flowing easily between them as it did only between people who understand each other deeply. It felt right, sitting next to Edgeworth like this, not having to shy away from their relationship.
Their friendship. That’s all it was, that’s all Phoenix could ever let it be – but it meant so much to him. Maybe, if he was less of a coward, he could’ve tried for something more, but…
Edgeworth grinned at some remark of Phoenix’s, pushing his bangs back as he responded. He looked immaculate as always, but also so open and close and happy.
Phoenix would never want to put that in jeopardy.
“And how was your trip here, Wright? I can only hope nobody tried to prevent you from coming, as I’m sure everyone knew of your reinstatement even before I informed them of your planned visit.”
Oh. He should’ve guessed the topic would come up – he was only allowed back into the Prosecutor’s Building for a specific reason, after all. Phoenix reached for the badge on his lapel, his very same one, re-issued to him after he completed his bar exam. “No, there was no hassle.”
“And how are you feeling? Do you think yourself a changed man even now, or has the return of your badge done more to bring back your old self?” Edgeworth spoke with unusual softness; he wasn’t quite walking over eggshells with his words, but he was just delicate enough that Phoenix wanted to place a hand over Edgeworth’s and squeeze tight.
“I’m… I mean…” He took a breath. “I’m not the same as I was before, you know? I can’t be only the old me anymore. But – I’m also not who I was for the most of the last seven years. Trucy says I’m someone new entirely, and it does feel that way most of the time.” Phoenix spun his fork between his fingers, sighing. “I feel like I should just be who I was before though, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone for – for having lived life and grown as a person.”
Edgeworth was looking at him so earnestly, not saying a word, it made a flush almost rise on Phoenix’s face. “Does any of that make sense?”
His companion nodded solemnly. “Expectations weigh heavily on you, in ways parallel but not always comparable to my own. Your struggles are yours, and I will always do my best to lend an ear. That won’t stop now that you’re an attorney again, I promise you.”
“Heh. Thanks, Edgeworth.”
“… Any time, Wright.” The prosecutor looked down at his food for a moment but said no more.
Too soon, they were finished with their lunch and tea. “Oh! Before I forget, Trucy’s having a science fair or something in a few weeks, and she wants you to come visit during the open house. I’ll email you the details once it’s closer.” He stood up, closing his empty take-out box and putting it back in the plastic bag.
“Sounds pleasant. Will you be off, then?”
“Yeah, I can’t be keeping the Chief Prosecutor to myself all day.” Phoenix smiled and held out his hand, wishing he could.
Edgeworth clasped their hands together in a firm handshake. “You’ll be welcome here for as long as I’m in charge.”
“Then how about I come by same time, next week? Might as well make this a more common occurrence, now that we can.”
“That sounds perfect.” The prosecutor held their hands together a moment longer before finally letting go, a small rush of cold air replacing his warm grip.
“Yeah… See ya, Edgeworth.” Phoenix grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and slung it on before finally leaving. He wanted nothing more than to stay, but the longer he stayed, the more he would want to say something he probably shouldn’t. Or maybe he should? It seemed like Edgeworth was hesitating, wanting to say something but just barely being unable to. Or was he reading too much into it?
Phoenix shook his head. No use spinning his wheels over it now, standing alone in the middle of the Prosecutor’s Building. He could think about it another time.
Maybe next week.