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"Herr Silver Fox -"
"Please stop calling me that."
"Of course. Herr Cravat, could I borrow your stapler? Mine's broken."
Edgeworth sighed and handed over the stapler. "If you break this as well, I will personally make you pay for a new one."
"I didn't break it," said Klavier with a grin. "It was Herr Forehead again. You should make him cover the expenses, ja?"
"I don't understand why you feel it so necessary to play up the German stereotype around me of all people, when I grew up in -" began Edgeworth, but as Klavier took the proffered stapler (sleek, expensive-looking and probably monogrammed somewhere, of course) his attention was diverted by a flash of reflecting light from Edgeworth's hand.
"Your finger..." he said, when Edgeworth had finished rebuking him. "Is that a ring?"
Edgeworth covered one hand with the over, with a motion that was almost automatic. "Yes, it is."
"And am I right in thinking," said Klavier with a conspiratorial grin, "that that is an engagement ring?"
Edgeworth did not immediately reply. His jaw worked slightly, as though he was debating how to answer. Finally he said curtly, "Correct."
Klavier whistled, then thought better of it when Edgeworth shot him a glare. "I am impressed! I honestly didn't see you ever settling for the married life."
"We both agreed it was better to take advantage of the financial and legal security of marriage while we could," snapped Edgeworth, turning slightly red.
Klavier waved away his protest. "Of course." Just as you are most definitely not a sentimental sap under all those ruffles and glares, he almost said out loud. (Almost. He did value his own life, after all.) Then, "If it's not too much trouble... could I see it?"
"I suppose so," said Edgeworth, and grudgingly held out his hand.
Klavier bent over to inspect the ring. It was nothing fancy, which was surprising when it came to Edgeworth. In fact, it was a simple gold band, whose only adornment was the pair of tiny gemstones inlaid in its center - one wine red, one navy blue.
Klavier stared. Navy blue. Then it clicked, and the grin that split his face was genuine. Of course. Who else, really?
"Do his protégées know?" They'd probably have found out by now. Klavier ignored his own question and kept talking. "Can't imagine they'd be surprised -"
"Excuse me?" Edgeworth was at his coldest when embarrassed.
"Suffice it to say, you weren't being subtle."
"I -" Edgeworth's stiff dignity was peeling away somewhat; he did not seem to enjoy carrying a conversation that, in his mind, would be more appropriate coming from a love struck teenager. "We tried to be. I can't think where we went wrong."
Klavier shook his head. "Where to begin?" Perhaps with the light yet lingering touches around the office, or with the way their legal debates seemed to settle into a comfortable and well-worn routine that at times bordered on flirting, not to mention convenient disappearances into the men's bathroom during recess that always seem to result in rumpled hair and satisfied smiles. No, Klavier decided, there had really been nothing subtle about the whole arrangement. "Believe me, you didn't fool anyone. As I think you'll see from the number of congratulations you'll be getting in the next few days."
Edgeworth twitched. "We weren't planning on publicly announcing the engagement yet -"
"Maybe not you. But I can guarantee Wright will be showing off his fancy new ring to anyone who'll listen. And if he doesn't, I'll be happy to spread the word. Besides -" ignoring Edgeworth's noise of indignation "- Herr Forehead with his bracelet will be sure to notice the ring, at which point everyone will know."
Edgeworth's face looked resigned. "I'd better prepare for a barrage of insipid questions about my love life... Don't you have a job to be doing, Mr. Gavin?"
"Of course." Klavier made to leave, then paused with a hand on the doorframe. "But may I just say..." He smiled, and made very sure there was nothing fake about it. "Congratulations, Herr Prosecutor. I really am happy for you both."
Edgeworth dipped his head in acquiescence. "Thank you."
"Also, can I play at the reception?"
"Get out."