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"Miles Edgeworth, taking a break?" Wright snarked over the phone. "You sure you're not an imposter?"
"Ha ha," Miles grumbled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink with a scowl. "Are you free or not?"
Wright let out a snicker, before apparently deciding he had had his fun and answering, "Yeah, I'm free. How about I drop by your office around noon and we figure out the details then? That should work out better than our last attempt to meet up."
Miles grimaced at the memory. They had agreed to go to a chain restaurant, a decent middle ground for Miles' palate and Wright's wallet, but their dinner had been delayed because of a mix-up that had ended up with them at two different versions of the same restaurant, and it had taken them twenty minutes to realize neither of them had actually been stood up and for Miles to drive to meet Wright at the correct location. It would just be simpler for him to drive Wright instead of meeting at the restaurant.
"Yes, I think that is the best option." He couldn't help the small smile that reached his face. "Let's hope a case doesn't decide to throw itself in our way again."
"Don't jinx it!"
He shook his head, asking, "When did you become so superstitious?"
"When my boss started helping me in court beyond the grave and I had to exorcise my sorta ex from one of my best friends," Wright answered plainly, and Miles sighed. Right, he had nearly forgotten the earth-shattering realization that the supernatural he had been desperately trying to dismiss was, in fact, very real. And it wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened in his life anymore.
"Fair enough. I'll see you at noon then."
"See you then!"
As Miles hung up, he looked at the cup in front of him with all the enthusiasm of a man approaching his own execution. It wouldn't kill him, obviously, he always thoroughly cleaned out his cups and the kettle before brewing tea and there had been no opportunity for someone to poison it.
He really needed to just give in to impulse and dispose of all the tea that everyone at the Prosecutor's Office insisted on buying him for his birthday and the winter holidays every year, because for all their good intentions, getting through the sheer surplus of tea was a Sisyphean task.
In all honesty, it felt like every time he managed to finish a box, five more appeared in its place. He was going to be buried alive in boxes and tins and bags of tea before he managed to get through a year's worth. He would soon have enough boxes and tins to build a summer home on the East Coast and then invite every single person he had ever met to meet him there for a cup.
If he hadn't hated tea before, the sheer inescapable reality of the fact that he had a cabinet in his kitchen and two drawers in his office full of the stuff would be enough to make him at the very least resent its very existence.
He had other hobbies, other character traits. He had a very broad music taste, and he played flute and piano. He enjoyed reading. At this point he would rather someone publicly give him the entire collection of Steel Samurai graphic novels at one of those awful, unnecessary holiday parties than buy him another goddamn bag of loose leaf tea, which enraged him on the inside even more than prepared tea bags because it meant wasting his own money on filters so he could brew it and get rid of it in the only way he politely could.
Miles glared at the cup as if it had personally wronged him for a little longer, before letting out a sigh and picking it up, taking a sip and doing his best not to scowl too obviously.
It wasn't the most vile thing he had ever had the misfortune of drinking, that dishonor had to go to whatever Larry had called the concoction he had made to celebrate Miles "coming back from the dead" (and Miles wasn't much for the taste of alcohol but there hadn't even been any alcohol in the drink, because apparently Larry and Wright were both teetotalers, and perhaps that had been Larry's idea of revenge for Miles faking his death, he never knew when it came to Larry), but it just tasted wrong. It didn't matter what type of tea he tried, or how well he actually managed to brew it, because it would always taste wrong and disgusting and no amount of sugar or milk could fix it. And no amount of time and exposure had acclimated him to that taste.
He didn't even have the benefit of appreciating the caffeine, because caffeine had never done more than perhaps make his heart beat a touch faster if he had too much. Even if caffeine was effective for him, he would rather drink coffee (and there was a childish part of him he generally preferred to ignore that preferred hot chocolate above both). But no, apparently the world at large had collectively decided that a habit he had picked up out of desperation for approval from his mentor was actually a character trait and were eager to encourage it.
Miles was considering the inelegant solution of chugging the drink just to get rid of it when he heard the window open behind him, and a bright voice chirping, "Hey Mr. Edgeworth!"
He jumped, turning around to see Kay grinning at him as she shut the window behind her.
"How did you get up here?!" he asked, utterly horrified. "This is the twelfth floor!"
She waved it off as if she hadn't been very close to falling to her death in order to be dramatic (and admittedly some part of him couldn't forget the consequences of the last time she had a major fall), insisting, "Don't worry about it! Anyway, I had some stuff I wanted to share, though I can go if you want to finish your tea first."
"It's fine," he answered, waving the suggestion off as Kay slipped a folder out of her bag and passed it to him. Glancing through, it appeared she had managed to unearth more of the particular pies former Chief Prosecutor Winner had his fingers in. "Would you like some tea, Kay?"
"Nah, I don't want you to run out of it or something," Kay remarked with a shrug.
Miles gave her a look, before leaning over and opening the bottom drawer of his desk, which was absolutely packed full of tea. Kay's eyes went wide, and she was about to say something when he held up a hand and opened the drawer immediately above that one, which was nearly as full.
"I will pay you to at least take a box," he insisted gravely, and Kay started cackling with delight.
Well, glad to see someone found his peril amusing.
Kay began rooting through the top drawer, still immensely entertained as she noted, "Let's see, what's the tea that you won't kill me for taking. Probably something you haven't opened yet."
"Take whatever kind you like," he answered, turning his attention back to the file. It would be redundant at this point, to bring Winner up on these charges when he already was facing the rest of his life in prison, but this information certainly painted a more complete portrait of the kind of person Excelsius Winner truly was.
It took him a moment to realize that Kay was quiet. Too quiet.
He looked back over at her to see her giving him an oddly concerned expression, and he frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"Are you sure?" she asked, and, while he was unfortunately used to people worrying over him at this point, he couldn't understand what had her so concerned at the moment. "You're not going to get mad when I probably pick a kind you really like for myself?"
"Trust me, that is highly unlikely," he assured her, turning back to the file. "It appears most of my coworkers believe my defining character trait is 'likes tea', so even if I were particularly attached to any of the types or brands in those drawers, rest assured that it will be replaced by the next gift-giving holiday." He couldn't help but scowl at the thought of it. "Which is highly unnecessary, in my opinion."
"Uh...okay?" He continued to hear her rummaging around through the drawer, almost more hesitantly than before, as he glanced further through the file. Then, finally, she asked, "What about this one?"
Looking over at her again, he noticed she was holding a metal tin of loose leaf tea, which he distantly remembered was a gift from von Karma roughly five years before. His initial concerns at the possibility of poison were immediately dissuaded by the plastic seal around the lid, which confirmed it had never been opened. It seemed expensive, not that Miles was (or even wanted to be) an expert. It was absolutely the kind of tea that Manfred von Karma would despise ending up in the hands of a young excitable thief of the truth.
Which meant that there was a note of vindictive pleasure in telling Kay, "You'll need to acquire filters to brew it, but you are welcome to take it."
"Are you okay?" Kay immediately asked, and he frowned. "Like you normally care way more about your stuff than this? And this tea looks really fancy and expensive and snooty and you're letting me take it?"
"Tea is a consumable," Miles reminded her, still confused as to the concern. "And it was unlikely I'd ever get to it before it would spoil or grow stale, considering the surplus."
She looked unconvinced still, and Miles let out a sigh. He had a feeling there was no way he was going to convince her that it really wasn't an issue. Not unless he admitted to his foolishness.
"And for the sake of honesty, I don't care much for tea anyway," he admitted, and Kay jumped in surprise. "It was mostly due to pressure from von Karma that I drank it when I was younger, and at this point I've been gifted so many boxes there is no polite way to get rid of them."
"...What?"
He gripped his sleeve, continuing, "I personally do not find tea enjoyable to drink. The taste is wrong and all attempts to acclimate myself to it have failed."
Kay looked at him strangely, examining him as if looking for clues or evidence (for what, he had no idea), looked around the room with a oddly familiar glare, then looked at him and said, "I just realized, I was going to go visit Gummy. I'll be right back." Before he could say anything, she was out the door.
He was too relieved she didn't go through the window to consider how odd that was, instead turning his attention back to the folder.
Then, he glanced at the clock, sighing a bit at the time. Noon was about an hour away, and he imagined it was going to be a long hour. Taking a look at his tea cup, he considered just dumping it out, especially now that he was alone and he had admitted to disliking it. He lifted it up, about to consider the idea, when the door flew open so fast it slammed into the wall, and Gumshoe was standing in the door way with a taser in his hands.
"Freeze!" he called, looking serious. "Where's Mr. Edgeworth!"
...Oh you have got to be kidding me.
The lights in Edgeworth's office had all been shut off and his desk lamp was pointed directly at his face. Edgeworth would have fixed the lamp himself, but as he was currently handcuffed to his desk chair and being glared at by a very angry thief and an equally angry detective, there was simply nothing he could do but give them the most unamused glare he could.
(A small part of him, however, was impressed that they had managed to pull this set-up together in such a short amount of time after restraining him.)
"I'll be bad cop, you be good cop," Kay declared, and she didn't even wait for Gumshoe's nod before walking over to the desk and slamming her hands on it with a scowl. "Alright buddy, you may think you're slick, but you can't fool me. Where's Mr. Edgeworth?"
Miles raised an eyebrow at her, remarking, "Kay, you can't seriously believe I'm an imposter all because I don't like tea."
"You really think I'm buying that?" she demanded, getting in his face. "He's constantly drinking that stuff! He has two whole drawers dedicated to it and you really expect me to believe he doesn't like it? How stupid can you be?"
He let out a groan. "I told you, Kay, I've received all that tea as presents. If I had had a choice, I wouldn't have that much to begin with. Even if I liked tea I wouldn't buy that much for myself. It's completely unnecessary."
Kay jabbed a finger in his face, but before he could say anything else the door slammed open again and in stomped Franziska, whip in hands and looking murderous.
Any hope that she was intending to at all remedy the situation was immediately crushed by crack of her whip much too close to his face and her gravely insisting, "Tell me where my brother is or I'll make you suffer."
"Franziska, you can't seriously believe I'm an imposter on the basis of beverage preference."
"I know my little brother better than anyone, and I have witnessed him drinking tea for as long as I can remember," she informed him quite viciously. "Any fool who honestly believes that he has any hatred towards the drink is clearly not doing their research. Now...where is he?"
Perhaps he should have been honest sooner. Perhaps he should have forgone any semblance of politeness and openly informed his coworkers (and apparently his own sister) that he hated tea and would rather not receive it as a present. Perhaps he should have...no, standing up to Manfred von Karma was a fool's errand for anyone who wasn't Wright and also only a child, but he could have easily just shoved the drink aside instead of choking it down out of some desperate attempt to win the man's respect.
"He is literally right in front of you," he insisted severely. "I don't know what exactly I have to do to convince you-"
"We should waterboard him," Kay interrupted, and Gumshoe immediately jumped. "Clearly he's not going to talk without some...persuasion."
Franziska scoffed. "Please, methods of torture are ineffective means of interrogation, there have been many studies that have proven that." His relief at those words was immediately stomped on when she smirked and added, "Though it would make me feel better, in all honesty."
"Oh for the love of God," Miles muttered, his head falling to his chest in exasperation.
He never thought admitting a drink preference was more likely to get him killed than coming out had been.
"Uh, I'm not sure if this-" Gumshoe began, only to be silenced with a crack of a whip.
"Quiet, Scruffy. Move the imposter from behind the desk. We will have to improvise with our current set up after all."
Miles decided that clearly any appeals that he was, in fact, the real Miles Edgeworth, would fall on deaf ears, and so he simply groaned in annoyance as Gumshoe dragged the chair out from behind the desk as Kay...was that his teapot? Why...he didn't even use it, it was just for decoration at this point!
Then, the chair suddenly leaned back, Gumshoe letting out a huff as he took on the full weight of the chair and the aggravated prosecutor.
"Where is Miles Edgeworth?" Franziska asked gravely, snapping her whip taut in her hands.
"I'm Miles Edgeworth," he repeated blandly, before Kay proceeded to pour cold water on his head.
The door opened, quieter this time, and Eustace Winner walked in, saying, "Mr. Edgeworth, I wanted to ask about..."
His voice trailed off as everyone turned to look at him, frozen in surprise, and Miles could see his eyes flitting from Gumshoe wheezing as he held the chair at a tilt, to Kay still pouring water from the teapot onto Miles' head, to Franziska holding her whip threateningly, and finally to Miles, restrained in the chair, suit and hair both soaked as the contents of the teapot finally ran out.
Then, silently and stiffly, he turned and immediately walked right back out the door, shutting it behind him.
It was silent for a moment, as it seemed everyone needed to process what they had just seen, and Miles took a deep breath. No time like the present to finally have a chance to speak.
"Kay, when you were ten you blew your nose in my cravat while I was wearing it, and I was forced to change into a new one as a result, but I allowed you to keep the first one," he began, and he could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "Gumshoe, I haven't actually lowered your salary since I was twenty-two, and I am fully aware that you know that. And Franziska, the only time you saw me cry as a child was when you were five. I was having a nightmare and crying in my sleep, and you decided to slap me awake, which only made me cry harder. Your father proceeded to ground us both for the disruption and we had to write lines for a week."
There was another moment of silence, before Kay let out an awkward laugh. "Haha, whoops!" And Miles was relieved when the chair was finally set upright and Franziska loosened her grip on her whip.
"Fine," Franziska declared, as Gumshoe gave him a sheepish smile before setting to work unlocking the handcuffs. "Only the real Miles Edgeworth would know this information."
"Thank you," he answered emphatically, and when his arms were released he stretched them gladly.
"But."
He sighed. "What now?"
Franziska crossed her arms, noting, "Something clearly must be wrong, for you tastes to change so suddenly."
"Oh for the love of-"
"Did you hit your head on something, Mr. Edgeworth?" Kay asked, in his face again but this time out of concern than anger. Miles wondered if this was what an aneurysm felt like. "Or are you sick or something?"
He wanted to bury his face in his hands as Gumshoe added, "Something might be affecting his memory if he doesn't remember liking tea!"
Franziska hummed. "Pathetic little brother. What did you do to yourself now?"
"I assure you, I have all of my mental faculties in order," he insisted, frustrated. "Is it really so ridiculous that I don't like tea?"
"Yes," all three of them answered bluntly, and he let out another groan.
"I am not sick, I have not acquired any injures to my person that any of you haven't witnessed, I have not experienced any traumatic events that the three of you weren't witness to in the past few weeks, and even if I had, none of them would have to do with the fact that I simply don't like tea!"
The door opened for the fourth time that day, and Miles looked over to see Wright standing there, looking at the scene before him with wide eyes.
"Uh...am I interrupting something?" he asked, confused.
Miles couldn't help but flush with embarrassment, realizing immediately how ridiculous he must look, soaking wet and seated in a chair surrounded by his sister and two unreasonably concerned investigation partners.
"See, he must be sick if he's that red!" Kay insisted, but Franziska just let out a smug laugh, knowing exactly why he was so embarrassed. As if she hadn't betrayed him enough today.
"No, that's simply because he's a fool," she answered, before giving Wright a stern look. "What are you doing here? I wasn't aware of you having any business with the Prosecutor's Office today."
Wright stammered a bit, before answering, "Edgeworth and I were going to get lunch during his break...can someone explain what's going on? What's with the lights? And why is Edgeworth wet?"
Miles let out a reluctant sigh. "Somehow I have the feeling that sharing the reason why will only cause me more suffering."
"Hold on, is this 'that man'?" Kay asked, eyes wide, but neither Franziska nor Gumshoe acknowledged the question to Miles' relief, as apparently there were still small mercies to be had today.
"Mr. Edgeworth seems to have lost portions of his memory," Gumshoe insisted, using the same tone he tended to use during debriefing. "He keeps insisting he hates his favorite drink."
"...What?"
"This is all because I don't like tea," Miles answered bluntly. "They appear to believe I've forgotten my love for the drink over the idea that I might have simply lied about enjoying it. But it is moderately better than when they presumed I was an imposter moments ago."
Wright blinked. "But you've never liked tea?"
"What?!" Kay and Gumshoe shouted simultaneously, and there was the snap of Franziska pulling her whip taut again, but Miles was more focused on the much more clear issue at the moment.
"You knew?!" he asked, shocked. Which wasn't likely to help his case, but he had been very intentionally pretending to enjoy it for the past several years, and the charade hadn't dropped in front of Wright once.
Wright shrugged helplessly, laughing a bit. "I mean, it was kind of obvious with how the psyche-locks kept showing up whenever I saw you drinking it. Not to mention when we were kids and you tried to drink it to be like your dad and you always ended up pouring it out because you hated it so much. And you scowl a lot more when you're drinking it too."
Kay shouted, "But that's just his face! He's always like that!"
"Out of all the foolish nonsense I've heard from you, this has to be some of the most foolish!" Franziska insisted.
"Wha-hey, I'm not the one who was interrogating a guy over tea!"
Miles pressed his fingers to his temples as Kay, Gumshoe, and Franziska continued to shout at Wright, who looked genuinely confused and disbelieving as he argued with them. It was clear to Miles that his day was going to be consumed with this nonsense and he and Wright were almost certainly going to miss their chance to get lunch if this continued. But he couldn't see it ending in any way that didn't involve him being forcefully driven to the hospital to confirm there were, in fact, no concerning head injuries or sudden deadly illnesses.
That was, until his eyes landed on his cup of tea from earlier.
Immediately he was disgusted by the option that had presented itself. Not only was it a drink he didn't care for, but it had long since cooled since he had last touched it, which would make it all the more unpleasant. But, as he quickly reminded himself, this situation was already unpleasant, considering his hair was still dripping and it was much too loud in his office, and he had made much more serious sacrifices in the past to ensure the best possible outcome. And, after the ridiculousness of the past hour, he really just wanted to get lunch with Wright and not have to think about this anymore.
He walked over to his desk, picked up the cup, and took a gulp of it, swallowing the lukewarm liquid as quickly as possible before remarking blandly, "Mmm, yes. Tea. Now I remember." The group went silent at those words as he turned his exasperated gaze back on them. "My memory is back, you did it. I like tea, now please leave my office immediately." Wright began to raise a hand in slight confusion, and he amended, "Not you, Wright."
It was silent for a moment, before-
"Well that's great!" Gumshoe insisted, grinning out of relief as he clapped Miles on the shoulder. "Glad to see you're back to normal, sir!"
"Yeah, you really scared us, Mr. Edgeworth," Kay agreed with a quick nod, looking much more relaxed now that the "situation" seemed to have been fixed.
Franziska scoffed, insisting, "Don't worry me like that again, little brother." Then, turning to Kay and Gumshoe, she continued, "Now, let's leave them alone so we don't have to witness more of my brother's foolishness."
"Yes, thank you Franziska," Miles answered pointedly, giving her an annoyed glare that she met with a smug smirk.
Kay and Gumshoe followed her out the door, and Miles could hear Kay ask, "Seriously though, is that guy 'that man'?" before the door shut behind them and there was a moment of blissful silence.
"...Jesus," Wright muttered, shaking his head. "And here I was thinking you're not that good at lying."
Miles sighed, rubbing his temples again. "I suppose I'm just relieved you didn't immediately begin interrogating me as well. Though I suppose they all had plenty of evidence to believe I really do like it." He gestured to the still open drawers of his desk, and Wright stepped around it to look at them before letting out a snort. "I really need to do something with all of it."
Wright shrugged. "You should give it all to Maya. She and Pearl are both big fans of tea, they'll probably love it."
"...Regifting. I should have thought of that sooner." He sat back down in his desk chair with a sigh. "Let's just discuss lunch plans before I lose my mind."
"Want me to get you a towel first?"
Miles paused for a moment, before nodding firmly. "Yes, that would be appreciated."
"And after that, how about we figure out how to clear out your tea stash without anyone noticing?"
"Oh god yes please."
Wright let out another laugh, patting him on the shoulder before tugging his phone from his pocket and shooting out a text (presumably to Miss Fey over the large amounts of tea she was about to receive), and Miles sighed with relief. For all the ridiculousness that had just occurred, at least he would still be able to get lunch with Wright as planned.
...Once his hair and suit were dry, that was. And he would probably need to inform Eustace that he hadn't been murdered in his office at some point.
"Also, what did that girl mean by 'that man'?"