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January 29th, 2017 - 7:30 PM
Cett Tink Hotel
Main Ballroom
Phoenix Wright did his best not to miss the Fey sisters.
In theory, it was easy. Mia had been gone for a little less than six months, and Maya for four weeks, so he could have gotten used to it in that time, but…
But it was so hard.
If he thought about Mia too much, he’d start getting teary-eyed. If he started thinking about Maya, he’d want to give her a call, but that was unfair to her. He’d promised her some time to work on her spirit channeling. It wouldn’t do to constantly bother her with his loneliness.
He just needed to get out and meet people, that was all.
And, after all, wasn’t that what tonight was for?
He’d received the invitation two weeks prior for a ‘Thank-You Event’ for agents of the law. The ballroom was abuzz with prosecutors and defense attorneys alike, as well as correctional and police officers. He knew, logically, that it was a good night for networking. He’d even brought some new business cards for the occasion.
He’d actually have to talk to people, he figured, if he was going to rid himself of them.
It wasn’t like he wanted to act like a social pariah, but every time he wanted to join a group, he’d find himself at a loss for words. What would he have to contribute to the conversation, anyway? He’d only been a full-fledged lawyer for less than a year, and, as important as business relationships were, he would have given his left arm to be anywhere but here. Anyone who approached him wanted to ask him about his perfect record, or how he’d taken down the Manfred von Karma and Miles Edgeworth in the same year. He was, frankly, tired of speaking on the matter. He’d simply been defending innocent clients, and the truth had unwound itself when he’d found where to look.
With a start, he realized he was brooding. Not a great look for networking, he thought, shaking his head to break free from the gloomy thoughts. Surely someone here wanted to talk about something other than his record.
He just had to find them.
Pointedly lowering his drink so it’s stop gnawing on the straw, Phoenix took in a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was Phoenix Wright. He could do this.
Right as he started toward another attorney like himself, facing the same swarm of people with trepidation, the group next to him hushed. He forced himself not to look, though his ears started to burn. Had they been talking about him? He didn’t stand out in a crowd that much, did he? Sure, he was in his blue suit, but he wore that anyway. A wave of overwhelming frustration hit him hard. If he just made it to one conversation that night, he’d be set, and he could leave.
As he approached the attorney, however, their head turned to face him, and their face turned white as a sheet. Phoenix raised his hand in a wave, but they quickly raised their glass to their mouth and turned away. He stopped, hand stupidly in the air, watching as they quickly hurried away.
You’ve got to be kidding me, he thought, suddenly wishing he hadn’t brushed off those wanting to talk about his record so quickly. At least they’d wanted to speak with him. I should just go home. This is ridiculous. I—
“Wright.”
The voice came from behind him; one he’d never misplace. He stopped, straightening and squaring his shoulders.
So that’s why everyone’s been running from me, he thought, turning slowly, as though he were suddenly a wooden doll. When he was certain he could actually look over his shoulder without straining himself too much, he turned to find a man standing a healthy distance from him, holding his own wine glass in one hand, the other stuffed deep into the pocket of his slacks.
Phoenix hated how his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Miles Edgeworth. A month after DL-6, and he still couldn’t help the way his heart squeezed in on itself whenever he so much as thought of the man.
They stared at each other for an elongated moment, Phoenix with wide eyes, and Edgeworth looking in his element as ever. He’d swapped his maroon suit for a black one, though had opted to keep the cravat at his neck for the evening.
Phoenix felt his throat dry at the sight. He quickly brought his hand up to his mouth, trying to cover up the exaggerated swallow as he tried clearing it again. Edgeworth’s eyes trailed from his blue ones down to his hand, watching as the defense attorney took a gulp of his drink.
“Edgeworth,” Phoenix said when he could talk again. Miles inclined his head.
“Might I join you?”
Phoenix blanched at that; not because he didn’t want him to, he just…hadn’t expected it. He’d expected some sort of challenge. Or a threat. Or…really anything else.
“Um, sure?” He stammered, and when one of Edgeworth’s eyebrows rose on his forehead, he shook his head. “I mean, yes. Please.” The gray-haired man softened, taking a firm step toward Phoenix and turning to the crowd. Phoenix, aware of his rival’s proximity, looked down at his shoes, holding his drink in both hands. Edgeworth seemed unfazed. He brought his drink to his lips and sipped at the red liquid inside. The silence that stretched between them might have been comfortable to some, but to Phoenix, it was agony. His mind raced with possible conversation starters, awful puns, and even a few scholarly articles he’d read.
…When he was in college. Bringing them up now would prove the proverbial yellowing they’d undergone in the back of his head. Instead, he stared at his drink, as if that would make the liquid jump from the glass to his lips itself.
“I don’t know how you do it, Wright,” Miles finally broke the silence, and Phoenix physically felt himself relax. He blinked at the man, only to find that Miles was still staring out at the crowd.
“Do what?”
Miles finally turned to meet his eyes before gesturing with his glass. “This. Crowds.”
“Socializing?” Phoenix offered with a grin, and Edgeworth gave a pleading look to the sconce above the defense’s head.
“Sure.”
“Well, I’m sure I’d have done a much better job, had there not been someone following me all night, apparently.”
“Of course,” Miles nodded stiffly, looking away. “I…apologize. I was unsure how to approach you.”
A stab of regret at his tone hit Phoenix in the gut, and he bit his lips together. “A simple ‘hello’ usually works wonders,” he offered, and Edgeworth’s eyes crept back over to him. They examined each other for a bit longer than a standard breath, before the side of Edgeworth’s lips pulled up in the ghost of a grin.
“Hello, then,” he said, and Phoenix couldn’t help the smile that came to his face.
“Hi,” he nodded, feeling warmer just looking at Edgeworth’s attempt at a smile. He forced himself to relax, turning to face the prosecutor better. “You know, I wasn’t even expecting you to show up tonight.”
Seeing Phoenix’s move, Edgeworth was quick to mirror him, as if he’d been waiting for permission. “Oh?”
“This all seems…beneath you, somehow,” Phoenix shrugged.
“Beneath me,” Edgeworth deadpanned, and Phoenix was quick to backtrack.
“I mean, no offense, Edgeworth, but—,” he sighed, “I don’t know. You just seem…too busy for something like this.”
Edgeworth scoffed, turning back to the room. “You’re right on that front, at least,” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “Alas, the Chief Prosecutor requested I Mae an appearance tonight.”
“An appearance,” Phoenix parroted. “In and out, then?”
“Indeed,” Edgeworth sighed. “I would be remiss if I did not, at least, stop by to say hello.” Phoenix nodded slowly, and the prosecutor set his jaw, taking in a deep breath. “To you.”
That made his eyebrows shoot up on his head. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
Gray eyes peeked at him from the sides of Edgeworth’s eyelids, and Phoenix blinked slowly. “You’re here…for me?” Edgeworth took another sip of his wine, his eyes moving back to the crowd. What the defense attorney didn’t miss, however, was the way the prosecutor’s ears reddened. The piece around his neck bobbed around his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and Phoenix’s blue eyes darted down to it without his permission, and he quickly turned away, raising his glass to his lips again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edgeworth finish the rest of his drink, setting it on the console table behind him. Phoenix turned to him, trying to think of an adequate response to a revelation of that sort, but before he could even begin to form the words, Edgeworth was taking a step closer, suddenly in Phoenix’s space, but far enough to make it seem like they were sharing trade secrets to anyone outside their bubble.
“Speaking of things that are beneath me,” the prosecutor murmured, close enough to Phoenix so he could feel the man’s breath ghosting over his ear, “my office is three minutes away. If you’d like to be beneath me.”
With that, he was gone, leaving Phoenix in stunned silence. By the time Phoenix’s brain connected again, the man was off, readjusting his suit coat as he walked.
Realizing the offer in front of him, the defense attorney downed his own drink, setting it on the same table, and started off after the prosecutor, straightening his tie on the way.
April 27th, 2018 - 9:45 PM
A. Plase Event Center
Grand Ballroom
Phoenix hadn’t really had an ‘emo’ phase. Besides the class trial, he’d had a happy adolescence. Even after the nightmare that was Dahlia Hawthorne, he’d been able to keep a relatively sunny disposition. After all, he’d lived, and he’d gotten to know Mia Fey because of her. Really, everything that his life had culminated into had started from that awful case. Sure, he could benefit from a few therapy sessions, but he figured that was a wish list item for when he had sufficient funds to do so.
So now, faced with his current feelings and agonies, he was…lost, to say the least.
Miles Edgeworth was okay. He was alive and well. He’d scared Phoenix half to death, and left him mourning for almost a year, but he was still alive.
Why, then, did he still feel…conflicted? He knew, logically, it was because he’d been lied to for an entire year by the man he considered his biggest rival, partner, and…
And what else did he call him? They’d spent the night of the Thank You Event together after the DL-6 case got wrapped up, and then SL-9 had hit Edgeworth like a freight train, and now…now what did they call each other?
Now, at the annual Los Angeles Defense Attorney Gala, he still wasn’t sure. The man had appeared not a month prior, and had made a few attempts to reconcile, but Phoenix still wasn’t sure he was ready to make amends. After all, it had been a long year, and after Matt Engarde’s trial, he’d been so focused on making sure Maya was okay that he really hadn’t had the chance to meet up with Edgeworth.
Not that he had anything to say to the man, after all.
With a deep sigh, Phoenix made his way back to the bar. The last thing he wanted to do in that moment was network, but he’d received a note from an up-and-coming defense attorney who had wanted to meet up, and Phoenix had agreed weeks before. As it always happened, he’d regretted saying yes the closer the date came, and now, half an hour after their appointed meeting time, so had the other attorney, apparently. He found a place at the bar and leaned on it, waiting his turn. He’d started a tab on his first visit to the bar, but the exhaustion behind his eyes told him it was time to close out and head home. He had a long train ride ahead of him, anyway.
“Another rum and Coke,” the bartender said on her way past, sliding Phoenix a glass. He blinked at it for a moment before he looked up at her.
“I didn’t—,”
“Courtesy of the man down the bar,” she winked and nodded to Phoenix’s left, handing him his card back. “He also said to close your tab. On him.”
Phoenix’s eyebrows knit together on his forehead, and he followed her gesture. The group at the bar on his left departed at that exact moment, leaving nothing but empty bar between him and one other patron.
The sight of Miles Edgeworth made his breath catch in his throat, and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click of the teeth. He felt his entire face heat up, even as Edgeworth raised his own glass to his lips.
At least the prosecutor had the audacity to look sheepish. Phoenix stalked over to him, refusing to lean on the bar. If he leaned on the bar, he was engaging with the man, and that was something he wasn’t sure if he was ready to try again. Miles turned to him, still holding his wine in one hand. The defense attorney stood a few feet away, on hand still on the bar and the other holding the proffered olive branch, as it were.
“This is a defense attorney gala,” Phoenix said by way of greeting. Unfazed, Edgeworth nodded.
“That it is.”
Phoenix’s jaw tightened, and he bit his lips together, turning his attention away from the man. “So…what are you doing here?”
It was a much nicer way of asking ‘how did they let you in?’
“Listen, Wright…” Edgeworth said, raising himself from his stool and taking a step closer. “I owe you an apology.”
Phoenix turned back to him, both eyebrows raised. “You think?”
“An enormous apology.”
Without a word, Phoenix raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, and Edgeworth took the hint to continue.
‘I…was not of sound mind last year,” he said. “I know I don’t need to tell you, as you were there. There are, however, a million things I wish I could take back—,”
“If you say you want to take back what happened between us…”
“No,” Miles cut him off, taking yet another step closer. “For the love of the law, Wright, no.”
Phoenix took in a sharp breath, trying to calm the well of emotion that had threatened to overtake him. He had to look away from Edgeworth for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I was referring to my letter,” the prosecutor continued, bringing Phoenix’s attention back to him. When blue eyes met gray, the iron seemed to soften. “Wright. My mistakes from a year ago might be numerous, but you are not one of them.” Miles’ shoulders hitched up as he took in a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “You…you could never be a mistake.”
Taken aback, Phoenix almost choked on his own saliva. It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to him.
And it had come from the man Phoenix wanted the least to do with at that moment. Phoenix caught himself before he could melt into the carpet, barely keeping his wits about him.
“You still left,” he managed, voice thick with emotion. Edgeworth bit his lips together, but nodded all the same. “Edgeworth, I…” he started, but had to stop himself before he could get too far, taking in a deep breath before his voice could break.
“I know I don’t deserve an iota of your time,” Edgeworth cut in, “but I am here to apologize to you, Phoenix Wright, one way or the other.”
“And you think paying for my drinks is enough to do that?”
“Never,” Miles shook his head. “But I…I was hoping it would be a start.”
Phoenix couldn’t help the way his eyes darted down to Edgeworth’s lips, worried together as if he were waiting for a shoe to drop. They snapped up to the man’s gray eyes, which kept darting back and forth between his own.
The defense attorney swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat. He sank down into the bar stool in front of him, in front of his rival. “I’m listening, then.”
Edgeworth all but fell back into his stool, still seated forward enough so he could still look at Phoenix. “Wright, I’m sorry.” He said it with such fervor that it put Phoenix on the proverbial back foot. He was caught so off guard that he literally leaned back in his seat. ‘I wish I could say I didn’t know what I was thinking, but…that would be a lie. Whatever hurt, or confusion, of anything I have caused you…I sincerely apologize.”
Phoenix watched him as he spoke, feeling his hands start to shake where they were clenched on his thighs. Edgeworth’s small speech ended after that, leaving him in a stunned silence. He knew it was his turn to say something—anything, if his empty brain would work—but his tongue cleaved itself to the roof of his mouth.
All he could think about was the shade of the prosecutor’s eyes. He could catch the hue with the softest push of graphite on paper…
“Say something, Wright,” Miles half-chuckled, hand going for his elbow as it always did when he was distressed. The gray eyes blinked, waking Phoenix from his daydream as the man opposite him looked away.
“Me?” Phoenix heard himself ask, “How am I supposed to follow that up?”
“I would hope it would be with some forgiveness,” Edgeworth muttered, still not meeting his gaze. This time, it was Phoenix’s turn to blink, and he sat forward until he was on the edge of his stool. Before he knew what was happening, he was reaching with one hand and prying Edgeworth’s from his elbow, holding it gingerly in both of his. A sharp gasp came from above him, and Phoenix’s eyes jumped back up to meet Edgeworth’s.
“Miles,” he said, and the name felt heavy on his tongue, like it was a prayer he knew would be answered, “I…forgive you.”
Miles stared at him for a moment, eyebrows pushing together ever so slightly. Before he could say anything, Phoenix surprised himself, planting both feet on the ground and pushing off the stool just far enough to press his lips against those forming words against him. Edgeworth’s breath hitched as soon as their lips made contact, but after the small lapse, he closed his eyes and returned the kiss, one hand reaching up to cradle the back of Phoenix’s neck. The defense attorney kept it short, and as soon as he pulled back, the prosecutor was shaking his head ever so slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Phoenix asked, stomach suddenly in his shoes, and Edgeworth’s eyes found his again, squinting ever so slightly.
“What did that sound like a question?” He asked, and Phoenix grinned, leaning in to kiss him again. Edgeworth returned it momentarily, but pulled back before he could lose his train of thought. “Wright—,”
“The bartender said my drinks were on you,” Phoenix cut him off, so quiet Edgeworth almost had to strain his ears to hear. He blinked, eyebrows knitting together over his eyes.
“And?”
“I can think of someone else who wants to be on you,” he said breathlessly, and any argument Edgeworth had dusted into the abyss.
April 9th 2019 - 3:54 PM
Miles Edgeworth’s Apartment
Foyer
Miles Edgeworth, for all intents and purposes, is a worrier. He doesn’t try to be, and he certainly doesn’t ask to be, but nevertheless, it is something for which he is known.
Phoenix knows this. Despite all the times Miles has tried to brush off his own worries as silly or fanciful, Phoenix knows it isn’t something so easy as that.
That’s why, tonight, the palpable silence between them was enough to wrap its knobbly fingers around Phoenix’s throat and squeeze.
He figured he owed it to the man to try—albeit poorly—to keep the mood up.
“It’ll be fine,” he said for the third time that night. Miles rolled his eyes and finished the last knot on his neckpiece.
“I’m well aware, Wright,” he huffed in return. “It’s nothing more than an evening with the state prosecutors. I’ve done them thousands of times before.”
“”But you’re still worried,” Phoenix said. It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact. Lowering his arms from his neck, Miles let out a long sigh.
“If you must know—yes.”
He didn’t have to elaborate further. Crowds, especially crowds who hadn’t been following his latest career choices, would always be a stressor for Phoenix’s partner.
Partner. Lover? Boyfriend? Phoenix wasn’t sure what to call him these days. Rival seemed a bit…outdated, considering all they’d done in the last three years, and enemy was definitely out of the question. Despite Phoenix’s latest attempts to define their relationship, he was still…foggy about the whole thing.
In light of what they’d done in the last hour, he figured partner was as close to clarity as he’d get for the foreseeable future. Phoenix lowered his hands from his hair and stepped away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror and over to the smaller one in Miles’ foyer in front of which the prosecutor was fidgeting. He looked good in his black suit, shawl lapels silky smooth against the suiting. Phoenix knew he must have spent a small fortune on it.
Feeling bold, he sidled up close to Edgeworth from behind, slipping his arms around the man’s waist and setting his chin on his shoulder. Miles, thankfully, relaxed a smidge.
“It’s just an appearance,” Phoenix murmured, catching gray eyes in the mirror. “An in and out, so reporters can see you’ve deigned to show up.”
“Deigned?” Miles said, fiddling with his cuffs again. “That’s a five dollar word for you, Wright.”
“You’re deflecting,” Phoenix pointed out, and Miles sighed again.
“Just an appearance,” he finally made eye contact with himself in the mirror again. The defense attorney nodded, and the prosecutor scoffed. “Showing up to a prosecutor’s gala with a defense attorney on my arm,” he mused, turning around in Phoenix’s arms to put his hands on the man’s chest. “What kind of man have you turned me into?”
“Franziska would say a foolish one.”
“Oh, she’ll be there tonight to drive that point home,” Miles agreed, and Phoenix stiffened. He met the man’s eyes again and grinned. “You didn’t expect her to miss this one, did you?”
Phoenix, suddenly refusing to meet Edgeworth’s eye, muttered, “I’d hoped…”
“Shh,” Miles hushed him, leaning in to kiss his partner, “Like you said,” he said between kisses, “it’s only an appearance.”