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Miles Edgeworth was having a perfectly normal day at home sipping a perfectly normal blend of tea. After he finished with this perfectly normal paperwork he would adjourn to the perfectly normal living room and watch the Steel Samurai, which was a perfectly normal interest for a man of his age and stature to have.
What wasn’t perfectly normal was the sound of a whip being cracked outside. The sound itself was a sound Miles had been accustomed to since he was a teenager. But what was odd about it was that Franziska wasn’t supposed to visit for another two days.
Miles checked his calendar. Indeed, Franziska was much too early. This was truly quite odd, and would put his afternoon plans on a rather inconvenient hold.
Another whip crack, and then, “Open this door, Miles Edgeworth!”
“You know,” Miles said, cracking open his front door, “Some people prefer to knock.”
Franziska tossed her head up high, offended at the mere thought.
“Silence, little brother. Maya Fey and I are coming in because she claims you have cronuts in your home. I would like a cronut.”
Can’t she just say please like a normal person??
Miles rolled his eyes and let Franziska push her way inside. Maya Fey followed suit, smiling at Miles like this was a perfectly normal occurrence. He tried not to think too hard about why they arrived together.
“I do not have any cronuts,” he informed them, and Franziska whipped the ground in displeasure, “But I do have scones. Is that a reasonable substitute?”
“Very well,” Franziska sighed, helping herself from his cupboards like she owned the place.
“Why are you here?” Miles asked Maya.
He instantly regretted his harsh word choice, but Maya didn’t seem too put-off about it.
“Well,” she said, lowering her voice so Franziska wouldn’t hear, “Fran thought you might be lonely, and she wanted to see you. She brought me along since I like the Steel Samurai.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Miles sputtered, trying not to glance at the stack of Steel Samurai DVDs perched on the TV stand.
He also tried not to think too hard about how Maya had called Franziska ‘Fran’. That was none of his business.
“Come on, Edgeworth. Everyone knows you’re a closet geek, you might as well admit it. We can watch it and paint each other’s nails. It’ll be fun.”
Miles and Maya clearly had different ideas of fun. Oh well, at least he’d get to watch the Steel Samurai today. Miles decided to cut his losses. He followed Maya to sit at his couch. She fiddled with the TV system until she had the show up and running.
Franziska emerged from the kitchen, her whip in one hand and munching on a scone with the other. She dropped another in Maya’s lap as she moved to sit beside Miles. As per usual, she had nothing for him.
“I brought three colors of nail polish,” Maya announced, rudely interrupting Miles’s enjoyment of the opening theme.
“Why should that concern me?” he grumbled.
“Quiet, little brother. Your nails will be painted and that is final.”
Resistance was futile, Miles learned, and he tried to distract himself with the Steel Samurai and the Pink Princess while Maya fussed over his hands.
“Well, Fran is obviously getting the blue polish, and I want the purple since it matches my robes… so, that leaves you with the pink polish, Edgeworth.”
Franziska seemed to find this very amusing. She cackled, loudly, and once again Miles was interrupted from his focus.
“It’s magenta,” he snapped.
“All pink looks the same to me,” Maya said, and Miles had to stop himself from gasping.
“How can you say that?” he demanded, “They’re CLEARLY very different shades. Let me guess, you don’t know the difference between sky blue and cerulean blue, do you?”
“Well, this polish matches your suit,” Franziska interjected, “Nobody cares about your pretentious little shades. A perfect von Karma like myself doesn’t dwell on such fickle matters.”
Miles hemmed and hawed, but by the end of the afternoon the polish was on and dried and all his scones had been eaten.
“See you later, little brother,” Franziska said, leaving with Maya’s arm linked in her own.
Miles was left alone in his home. He regarded his magenta nails with dull interest and decided to go about his life normally.
He didn’t bother scrubbing the polish off, a choice that would be very beneficial to him later on.
—————————————————————————
Phoenix Wright wasn’t a bad person. He was kind, self-sacrificing, and generous.
He had done nothing to deserve this.
It all started on a Monday morning, as all bad things tend to do. Edgeworth had called him to his office to help review some case details. Or something. Phoenix wasn’t really paying attention, his mind caught on the very thought of Edgeworth. Pretty, pretty Edgeworth. Edgeworth called him. Edgeworth wanted to see him.
Alright, that last part was a bit of a stretch, but it didn’t matter. Phoenix practically skipped down to his bike and pedaled all the way to the Prosecutor’s Office.
Edgeworth was behind his desk when Phoenix entered. He was wearing his glasses, which made Phoenix’s heart flutter happily. Edgeworth looked cute in his glasses.
“Stop gawking, Wright,” Edgeworth scolded, “Come here. I have a copy of the case file here for you to look over.”
Phoenix picked up his jaw from the floor and tried not to trip in his haste to get over to Edgeworth’s desk. He sat in the chair positioned opposite Edgeworth and tried to focus.
“…and here is the autopsy report,” Edgeworth said, handing it over to Phoenix.
Phoenix took the report, Edgeworth’s fingers brushing his, and…
Oh. Oh no.
There was a layer of pink polish applied to Edgeworth’s nails. It was slightly chipped in some places, but that did nothing to curb the sudden lurch in Phoenix’s stomach.
Edgeworth had painted nails. Oh god, Phoenix wasn’t making it out of here alive…
“Wright?”
“Hnnngg,” Phoenix said, eloquently.
Edgeworth looked down to where Phoenix’s gaze rested. He flushed, ever so slightly, and brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
Was he… nervous? a small part of his brain asked. The rest of him wasn’t able to form sentences. Ahhh… Edgeworth cute…
“I, uh. It was Ms. Fey’s fault, really.”
“Uh huh,” Phoenix mumbled, taking Edgeworth’s hand in his and examining the pretty pink.
It matches his suit… oh, I’m a dead man. He was a dead man since he saw Edgeworth’s stupidly endearing nails. This was too much for even him. He could handle Edgeworth and his beauty normally. Edgeworth’s long eyelashes, pink lips, strong arms… Phoenix had gotten used to those features years ago. But those combined with the nails would be too much for even a stronger man than Phoenix to handle.
“Wright?” Edgeworth asked, quietly.
“Uh huh?”
“You, er, seem rather distracted.”
“Do I?” Phoenix asked, lightly stroking Edgeworth’s hand with his thumb.
“Yes,” Edgeworth said, adjusting his glasses with his other hand, “You do.”
“Uh huh.”
“…may I ask why?”
Pretty, pretty Edgeworth. Wanna kiss his cheek, or… or… hold his hand… touch his pretty hair…
“You do?” Edgeworth gasped, clutching his chest in shock.
…had he said that out loud?
“Yes,” Edgeworth answered, “You did.”
He was looking away now, fisting the sleeve of his suit until it crinkled. Edgeworth’s bangs fluttered down his face, twisted in a grimace. Uh oh. Phoenix has screwed up big time. Edgeworth only made that face when he was planning to flee to Europe. Phoenix couldn’t let that happen! Quick, say something!
“I’m sorry,” was all Phoenix was able to manage, “I know you don’t—I mean, this was entirely inappropriate—and—“
Edgeworth looked him in the eyes, and Phoenix almost fell back in his chair. Those gray eyes pierced through his entire being, leaving Phoenix trembling. When was the last time they made eye contact? Was it always this… intense? Intimate?
Edgeworth had said something. Shit. What was it? Phoenix scrambled to look normal and like he totally hadn’t been analyzing Edgeworth’s perfect features for the umpteenth time.
“Did you mean it?” Edgeworth repeated.
“Wh—what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Wright,” Edgeworth snarled, “Did you mean it?”
When Phoenix didn’t answer immediately, Edgeworth flinched away as if he’d been struck and started fidgeting with his jabot.
“Wright…” he mumbled, “Please don’t mock me. I can’t… can’t deal with that.”
“Edgeworth…” Phoenix whispered.
They just stayed like that for a while. Phoenix tried to form the words to explain himself, but when he was under Edgeworth’s scrutiny he found that he could barely string two syllables together.
“Yeah. Yeah, I meant it.” Confidence. That was the way to go.
All that bluffing in court had payed off. Phoenix smirked at Edgeworth, his smug smirk plastered on his face. This was just like their battles in court, and now the ball was in Edgeworth’s territory.
And Edgeworth was fumbling it. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, completely dumbfounded.
“You… you do?” he asked, in a small voice, and Phoenix’s smugness came crashing down.
“Since we were kids,” he said tenderly, and Edgeworth smiled.
Phoenix would do anything to see that smile. That soft, delicate quirk of his lips. Edgeworth was never a grinner, and honestly Phoenix preferred the secretive smiles. They made him feel special. Bubbly.
“I… have feelings for you as well,” Edgeworth confessed.
“Unnecessary?” Phoenix teased.
Edgeworth groaned, massaging his temples.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“How can I? And there’s nothing you can do about it, because you love me…”
“Unfortunately.”
“Objection!” Phoenix yelped, “That twinkling in your eyes begs to differ!”
“You can’t present facial expressions as evidence, Wright. Maybe my eyes are watering with pain, at your clear mockery of the legal system.”
“Then why are you smiling at me?” Phoenix countered, crossing his arms.
Edgeworth tried to suppress it, but the smile only grew. He wagged his finger at Phoenix, shaking his head playfully.
“Because you’re a fool,” came his brilliant comeback.
“Oh, what, are you going to whip me next?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“I—gah— Miles! ”
Whoops. Edgeworth’s eyes widened at Phoenix’s slip-up. They hadn’t called each other by their first names since grade school.
“Phoenix?”
A burning sensation thrummed through Phoenix’s whole body at that word. It was probably strange to feel such a thing at just the sound of his first name, but it was Miles saying his name and that made it special.
Special, like the pink nail polish Miles was wearing. Phoenix took his hand again and studied it once more.
“It suits you,” he declared.
“I’d hope so,” Miles replied, then continued, in a softer voice, “Does that mean you like it?”
“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said, pressing a gentle kiss to Miles’s knuckles, “I sure do.”
And, if the Chief Prosecutor didn’t get any more work done the rest of the day, well, that was no one’s concern.