Chapter Text
july 20, 2028.
Edgeworth knows something is off when Franziska, fresh off a plane from Europe, inquires about Phoenix Wright. It wouldn't be so unusual if it were something along the lines of "is that foolish fool still foolishly turning the courthouse into his own foolish circus?", with the obligatory boast about his eventual defeat at her hands (which hasn't happened yet; not that he would point this out to her).
But while Edgeworth has a litany of responses prepared for Franziska's usual comments about Wright, this time it's something else entirely. "Little brother, I have heard you have been spending an inordinate amount of time with that fool, Phoenix Wright. Is this true?"
He pauses, a little at a loss. Yes, is his first thought. But we've been facing each other in court, not engaging in trivial social exercises. What's her point?
"Does that concern you, Franziska?" is what he says instead, which is apparently the wrong thing to say, as her expression darkens considerably. He's thankful that her whip is stored somewhere in her suitcase at the present moment.
"You have lost several cases to him in the past year," she snaps. "I have to wonder if it is because you are going easy on him, Miles Edgeworth."
"I lost cases to him because his clients were innocent," he says. "Or would you have preferred me to convict innocent people?"
Again, the wrong thing to say. Franziska huffs, looking out the window. It's a sore spot, and he knows it - the endless search for perfection imposed upon them, and the dilemmas that search had brought with it, when they'd both realised it was an unattainable goal. Franziska has mellowed somewhat over the years, and her work with Interpol has certainly brought her no small amount of recognition, but sometimes Edgeworth feels as though Von Karma's ghost still stands between them.
Still, she recovers quickly, as always. The moment passes like smoke. "Of course not. Don't be foolish. But you should choose your cases more carefully. You are Chief Prosecutor now; you need to set an example for your subordinates."
"I'm aware of that. However, setting an ethical example is still a good example."
"Perhaps," she admits. Then her tone sharpens. "Or is it that you enjoy working with Phoenix Wright too much for your own good? I have been reviewing your case transcripts, little brother. You have chosen a good number of his cases to prosecute."
Edgeworth splutters. "That - that's purely coincidence. But I will admit that, yes, we work well together. We are long standing acquaintances. That's only to be expected."
He risks a sideways glance at her. If he didn't know better, he'd call the look on Franziska's face a smirk. "Long standing acquaintances? A strange way to phrase it."
"All right," he says, considering this. "Then - friends. Wright and I are friends. But this doesn't affect my ability to be impartial in court."
"Hmph," Franziska folds her arms, clearly displeased. She remains that way for a few tense minutes, before changing the subject by beginning to berate the quality of the airline's food even in First Class, and that they had dared to serve her sparkling wine instead of French champagne.
It's something of a relief. Franziska's bizarre line of questioning had come seemingly out of nowhere. And what was it she'd said? I have heard you have been spending an ordinate amount of time with that fool. Who would have told her that?
And more importantly, why would it be anyone else's business?
-
"Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell that scary prosecutor lady that Mr Edgeworth might like daddy," Trucy says out of the blue, around a mouthful of cookie.
Apollo drops his case files. "Wait, what?"
"Don't give me that look, Polly," Trucy admonishes. "It was when Jinxie and Pearly and I were having a sleepover. It was just a harmless prank! Except I heard daddy mention she was visiting Mr Edgeworth, so I hope it's okay."
"Slow down," Apollo tries not to give her the surprised look Trucy has dubbed his 'monkey impersonation'. "What are you even talking about?"
"You know, the scary prosecutor lady. Prosecutor Von Karma!"
"Yeah," he shivers, remembering the old tapes of Phoenix's cases. She'd featured in a few of those. He still remembers the sound her whip made when unleashed on unsuspecting victims. (Usually Mr Wright, now he thinks about it.) "I know who you mean. It was the other part I was questioning!"
"Oh," Trucy grins mischievously. "The part about daddy and Mr Edgeworth?"
"Yes," he responds empathically. "But can you hurry up and explain properly?"
"Okay, okay," Trucy finishes off the cookie; most likely in an attempt to keep Apollo on tenterhooks. "So Jinxie, Pearly and I had a sleepover. Oh, and Thena joined in too, because she dropped by to give daddy some files and so I invited her to stay. Then we did normal sleepover stuff like watch movies and paint our nails and... oh! I showed them my new magic act with the exploding glitter too."
Apollo decides not to mention that that probably doesn't classify as "normal sleepover stuff".
"Actually, there's still glitter everywhere in my room. I don't think daddy's noticed yet, though," she continues. "Anyway, so it was really early in the morning, and we all decided we'd do our best to stay awake the whole night. Then we thought, maybe if we prank call people! It always looks fun when people do it on TV."
"Uh... sure." I don't understand teenage girls.
"No one was picking up, though, I guess because it was so early?" Trucy makes a face. "It was pretty anti-climactic. Not even Prosecutor Blackquill picked up when Thena called him. But then I remembered that daddy knows people who live in Europe, and it'd be morning for them, so..."
"So you stole Mr Wright's phone," Apollo concludes.
"I borrowed it," she corrects. "Temporarily. And besides, he leaves it in the weirdest places. It was in between the sofa cushions. Anyway, not important! Daddy has a lot of contacts on his phone, so it took a while to scroll through it all, but then I recognised that name - Von Karma! I remember daddy talking about her, and I knew she lived somewhere in Europe, so we prank called her."
"Wait," he interrupts. "Wait, wait, wait. You prank called Prosecutor Von Karma?"
"Yes, yes," Trucy says impatiently. "You're an attorney, Polly, keep up with my testimony. So we prank called her, but I guess she checked caller ID, since when she answered she thought it was daddy." Trucy clears her throat, and when she speaks again, puts on an angry German accent. (It's not half bad, in Apollo's opinion.) "Why are you calling me at this hour, Phoenix Wright? I am on my way to work and don't need to be interrupted by your foolishness. You have five seconds to tell me the meaning of this."
"Oh my god," Apollo buries his face in his hands. "Trucy, you're insane. And she's even in the country now! What if she turns up here? We're going to be murdered by an angry German prosecutor. That's so ironic."
"I wasn't finished yet," she tilts her hat at him, winking. "So I said, this isn't Phoenix Wright! This is Trucy Wright! And she went really, really quiet. And then she said: 'you must be the daughter my little brother referred to'."
"Little brother?" Apollo questions, to which Trucy just shrugs.
"So then she started asking me all these questions," Trucy looks thoughtful. "About daddy and his disbarment and what'd happened, since apparently Mr Edgeworth hadn't filled her in on a lot of the details. Then she got angry and I think she was swearing in German? She was muttering about how 'of course the foolish fool wouldn't ask for help to get himself out of his foolish predicament'. But I remembered this was supposed to be a prank call, so I said I had something important to tell her."
"And that something was..."
"Well, it was hard to think of something good on the spot like that! But daddy and Mr Edgeworth have been hanging out a lot, I mean, daddy even invited him over for dinner the other week. And Mr Edgeworth actually came over. So I was thinking to myself that it'd been almost like a date, and how funny that was, and so I told her the first thought that sprang to mind. Which was that Mr Edgeworth likes daddy."
"Oh my god," Apollo repeats, but he's not sure if the words are actually audible. "Weren't they just reviewing a case together? Edgeworth wasn't prosecuting, so he helped Mr Wright out, because it was some big high publicity case."
"That doesn't matter," Trucy says firmly. "Daddy became an attorney because of Mr Edgeworth, and he was motivated into taking the bar again when Mr Edgeworth came and yelled at him about it. I think talking about work is just the way they understand each other."
"Trucy, I don't think there's anything going on there." That's... so weird to think about. Is Mr Edgeworth interested in anyone, anyway? "But even if there was, if he finds out you told Prosecutor Von Karma, he's not going to be happy."
"I've been thinking about it a lot since then," she responds smoothly, with a glint in her eyes that Apollo's sure he definitely doesn't like. He's only seen it a few times before: once when she forced him to participate in her "let's saw Polly in half!" magic trick, and once when she asked him if he liked Juniper, then when he said no, it's not like that, we're friends, asked instead if he liked Prosecutor Gavin. (So embarrassing. Not to mention ridiculous.) "And I have a plan."
"Whatever it is, I'm not getting involved."
"But Polly," Trucy looks at him with her well rehearsed kicked puppy expression. Even though he knows she's putting it on, it still gets to him. Every single time. And most of the time, it gets to his wallet too, especially when it comes to Eldoon's noodles.
He lets out a long suffering sigh. "What are you planning."
"As your assistant, I've helped you get to the bottom of loads of cases," she says. "And now it's your turn to be my assistant! I'm calling it Turnabout Matchmaking. Well, the title's a work in progress, but it gets the gist across."
"This isn't a court case," Apollo replies despairingly. "And why are you asking the single twenty three year old to help you matchmake?" That's it. This is the end. Twenty three years of self-preservation, and it's going down the drain in one fell swoop.
"Because," Trucy fist pumps. "As a team, we can do anything!"
-
Later that evening, after getting Franziska settled into her hotel room, Edgeworth returns to his apartment. (He'd offered the guest room, of course. But, typically, Franziska had refused. Little brother, she'd scoffed. Your apartment barely has furniture, and you are averse to keeping produce in your refrigerator. A Von Karma only accepts five star service.)
After attempting to find out who'd put the ridiculous notion about him and Wright in her head, Franziska's reticence in answering had eventually led to him giving up on finding out. At least for now. He tells himself it doesn't matter; that now Franziska's gotten it off her chest, she's hardly going to dwell on it. She's not the type. Franziska Von Karma doesn't waste time on the rumour mill.
Regardless, he currently has other things to concern himself with: namely that he can't stop sneezing.
"Ridiculous," he mutters, after the fourth time in a row. His glasses nearly fly off his face, and he pushes them back up to the bridge of his nose irritably. The files in front of him seem blurry and incoherent even with the glasses in the right position. It's official: he can't concentrate.
This entire day has been a farce. My acquaintanceship - friendship, if it must be called that - with Wright being called into question, and now a sudden bout of hay fever?
Today, Miles Edgeworth thinks to himself, is not his day.