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It was supposed to be simple.
Investigating a string of museum heists was a far cry from their usual case of solving a high-profile murder, or busting an international trafficking ring. Lang had rolled his eyes when they got assigned to this particular case, finding the prospect of locating a few stolen artworks hardly exciting or worth his time.
But when did life ever make things easy for them? In typical fashion, one ridiculous circumstance had led to another, and now here they were, huddled together behind a large marble statue of two red-crowned cranes in a French art museum, surrounded by a rain of gunfire. Lang cursed under his breath, releasing the empty magazine from his pistol and swiftly reloading. Beside him, Edgeworth pulled out his own pistol from his coat and checked it, making sure it was locked and loaded.
“How many do you think there are?”
“Hard to say. Maybe a half dozen. Maybe more, by the sound of it.” Lang popped out from behind the statue to fire a few shots before ducking back just in time, bullets ricocheting off the marble where he had just been not a second ago.
“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe we walked into such a poorly planned trap.” Edgeworth let out a huff, but his irritation quickly gave way to concern when he looked over to Lang. “Are you hit?”
Lang followed Edgeworth’s gaze and glanced down at his own bicep, where warm blood was beginning to seep through his sleeve. He cursed again and pressed his hand against the wound in a fruitless attempt to slow the bleeding.
“Just a scratch, babe.” He winked playfully at Edgeworth, quickly shrugging off his jacket so that he could fire off another round.
“You’re as reckless as ever, you know that? Let me see.” Edgeworth shifted closer to Lang, carefully taking his arm to inspect it. He gently prodded the wound, his touch soft despite the clinical way he examined it. Lang didn’t even flinch, even though it must hurt like hell.
Edgeworth let out a weary sigh, shaking his head. “Only you would think that a bullet grazing your arm is ‘just a scratch’.” Edgeworth fumbled around in his jacket pockets, muttering curses under his breath until he found what he was looking for. He held the handkerchief firmly against the wound, applying pressure to slow the bleeding.
“I’ll take care of it later, just wrap it up for now.” Lang calmly assessed their situation while Edgeworth tied off the handkerchief tightly around his bicep. A small handful of Lang’s subordinates were in various positions around the museum, crouched behind art installations and furniture while they returned fire at the art thieves. They hadn’t expected the suspects to be armed and dangerous, or else he would have brought his whole team along with him. “Damn it… We’re sitting ducks until backup gets here…”
“We can’t just stay here forever. We need to find a way to turn the tables.” Edgeworth was already working through various tactics and possibilities in his head. The only advantage they currently have is being smarter and better trained… But in terms of weapons and equipment, their assailants had the high ground, as well as more firepower.
Suddenly, a bullet hit the statue behind them and caused a small piece of the stone to crash down to the tile floor beside Edgeworth. Edgeworth picked it up on impulse, examining it closely for a moment. It appeared to be one of the crane’s feet.
“This isn’t marble. It’s concrete,” He said, running his fingers over the grey material where the paint had chipped. “This statue is a fake. They must have already switched it out.”
“Oh, great. Yet another work of art we have to track down.” Lang replied with a huff, rummaging through his discarded jacket for more ammunition.
“I have an idea.” Edgeworth shifted closer to speak to Lang in a hushed tone. He outlined the details of his plan in a crisp, concise manner. As he did, Lang simply looked at him like he had grown a second head.
“Miles, there’s no way–”
“Lang, listen to me.” Edgeworth insisted, reaching out to place a hand on Lang’s knee. “We have no other way out of this. Our backup isn’t coming anytime soon. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and pinned down here.” He gave Lang’s knee a slight squeeze, a small gesture of reassurance. “I need you to trust me. We have to take this risk.”
“Have you lost it?” Lang flinched back a bit as a bullet whizzed right past his ear. “I’m not putting you in danger like that–”
But before he could even finish the thought, Edgeworth was already snatching the walkie-talkie from his belt and issuing orders to Lang’s subordinates through it, voice firm and authoritative. Lang could only watch as Edgeworth took charge, a mixture of irritation and admiration flickering across his face.
“You’re so goddamn stubborn…” Lang shook his head incredulously, but couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his face, even as he leaned around the side of the statue to return fire. “I swear to god, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“I could say the same about you, you reckless buffoon.” Edgeworth shot back, his stern voice betraying a hint of fondness. “If we make it out of here alive, I’m going to kick your ass for always being so careless with your own safety.”
Lang let out a scoff, his smirk widening into a cheeky grin. He knew by now how to push Edgeworth’s buttons, and he took a perverse pleasure in doing so, even in dangerous situations like this.
“Oh, is that right? You’re gonna kick my ass, huh?” He leaned a bit closer, their faces only inches apart now. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”
Edgeworth held back a huff, rolling his eyes as he tried and failed to suppress the swell of affection that rose within him. “Focus, you fool. We’re in a life-or-death situation here.”
Lang simply chuckled at Edgeworth’s reprimanding tone, completely unfazed by it. His smirk melted into something a touch softer, and for a moment, the two of them shared a private, meaningful look.
Then Lang was throwing the plan into motion. With a strong heave, he threw his shoulder against the large statue they were crouched behind, sending it toppling to the ground. The loud crash of concrete hitting the floor sent vibrations through the museum, and Edgeworth held his breath as all gunfire around them momentarily ceased.
Edgeworth had to admit, Lang was nothing if not quick and decisive–which was something he appreciated (and sometimes found infuriating) about the Interpol agent. As dust and debris rose thickly into the air around them, they immediately sprang into action, rising from their crouching position to take advantage of the chaos and confusion they had just created. Edgeworth fired a few shots at their hidden assailants while moving swiftly towards a different section of the museum, Lang close behind him, backing him up.
They darted through the maze-like exhibits, dodging through halls and behind pillars as they avoided enemy fire. Edgeworth’s mind was sharp and focused, taking in their surroundings and calculating their every move like a chess match, the thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could feel Lang’s presence behind him, his footsteps matching his own as they moved together in sync. It was a familiar song and dance at this point, with Edgeworth leading and Lang right there to watch his back.
They moved together like a well-oiled machine, ducking behind a particularly large marble pillar to catch their breath for a moment. Edgeworth leaned back against the cold stone, panting slightly as he quickly reloaded his pistol, his eyes darting around for any sign of their assailants. He chanced a glance over at Lang, taking in the man’s disheveled appearance–the blood trickling down his bare arm, the muscles rippling as he aimed his weapon, the intense focus on his handsome face. The man looked every bit like a stupidly attractive action hero from a movie… So much so that it was almost irritating. But Edgeworth was quick to shake the thought from his head, forcing his focus back to the task at hand.
Lang watched him in return, with something akin to admiration. He couldn’t help but adore the way the prosecutor held himself: he was always so damn confident and calm, no matter what kind of situation they were in. When Edgeworth’s stormy eyes locked with his, Lang couldn’t help the strong wave of affection for the man that came over him all of a sudden. He suddenly knew with unshakable conviction that this is what he wanted, always… The two of them as a team, formidable and fierce. Miles Edgeworth at his side–right here where he was supposed to be–strong and unswerving and steadfast.
Maybe it was the adrenaline. Or maybe just the blood loss. But Lang felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge to let Edgeworth know exactly how he felt. Right now. Right at this moment. It felt absolutely imperative that he tell him. The urge to act on it was strong, important… Much more important than the case. More important than anything, really.
“Hey. If we get out of this alive…” The words come spilling out of Lang before he can even think to stop them. “What do you think about… marrying me?”
Edgeworth froze in place when the words finally registered, essentially becoming one of the statues in the museum. For a moment, he could only splutter indecipherably.
“…Are you seriously asking me this now? In the middle of a goddamn firefight?” Edgeworth finally managed, completely flabbergasted.
“Well, I didn’t exactly picture it like this, I admit…” Lang smiled at that exasperated yet fond tone, reaching into his pocket and producing a silver ring. “But, what can I say? When the timing feels right…”
Edgeworth stared at the ring in disbelief, eyes going wide.
“You… You were just carrying that around with you this whole time? Do you know how absurd and cliché that is?” He said finally, letting out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “God– Why do I even put up with you, you ridiculous idiot–?”
“You should put up with me forever.”
As if on cue, another bullet zipped past them, the immediate threat of danger looming. Edgeworth took a moment to pop out from behind the pillar and fire a few shots, which only made Lang’s smirk grow even fonder.
“...You’re insufferable, you know that?” Edgeworth rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the slight twitch of a smile on his lips. He leaned back against the pillar, the wry affection evident in his voice as his gaze slid over to Lang again. “But, I suppose I’ve already dealt with you for this long… I might as well do it for the rest of my life.”
Lang’s grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes lighting up with affection and excitement. Hearing Edgeworth say those words… It was almost too good to be true. He couldn’t help himself even if he tried–he immediately pulled Edgeworth against him, kissing him hard against the marble pillar.
Edgeworth was caught off guard once again by Lang’s impulsivity, but he quickly recovered, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Damn it, he was supposed to be focused on the mission, and yet here he was… making out with his reckless idiot of a fiancé in the middle of a shootout. He managed to pull away long enough to glare at Lang, but the effect was softened by the clear underlying fondness shining in his eyes. His free hand gripped the lapel of Lang’s shirt to pull him closer.
“Idiot. We’re supposed to be focusing on not getting killed right now, in case you’ve forgotten.” He muttered, his voice a mixture of exasperated endearment and desire.
“Heh, yeah, I guess you’re right. As always.” Lang kissed him once more before his expression turned deadly serious again. The sound of shouting and footsteps was getting closer; no doubt their assailants were advancing on them. Lang quickly shifted into a more defensive position, his handgun ready to fire. “They’re coming. Be ready.”
Edgeworth mirrored Lang’s action, the earlier moment of intimacy giving way to professionalism and focus once again. He took a deep breath, steadying his heart rate as his mind went right back into overdrive. He stole a brief glance at Lang, a silent signal passing between them, the playful banter forgotten for the moment. Edgeworth could feel the adrenaline and nerves coursing through him, a familiar yet intense feeling… but Lang’s presence beside him was solid, reassuring. Edgeworth had complete trust in his partner, especially in moments like this.
As their assailants finally came into view, Edgeworth didn’t hesitate. He quickly leaned around the pillar and fired a few shots, efficient and precise as a dagger to the heart. He aimed to incapacitate, not kill, his years of gun training coming into play. Lang fired off his pistol as well, the two of them working in near-perfect sync as they took down their opponents one by one.
“Hold this for me.” Lang turned to him with a warm smirk, taking Edgeworth’s hand and sliding the silver ring onto his finger.
Then he was gone from their hiding spot, grappling with their assailants alongside the rest of his team.
Edgeworth couldn’t help but scoff to himself, shaking his head at Lang’s ridiculous romantic tendencies. But even still, he found himself, as he frequently did, almost hypnotized by the way Lang fought. He was a force to be reckoned with, and watching him take down enemies with ruthless efficiency was both terrifying and–in a strange way–incredibly hot. Edgeworth twisted the silver ring on his finger as he watched from the sidelines, already starting to like the comforting weight of how it felt there.
When all of the suspects had finally been apprehended, Lang was quick to return to his side. He gave a sharp-toothed grin that was nothing short of enamored as he brought Edgeworth’s hand up and placed a kiss on the ring.
“Hey, guys, guess what. He said yes!” Lang suddenly called out, holding Edgeworth’s hand up. The silver ring glinted as it caught the light.
Edgeworth’s cheeks flushed immediately, a wave of bashfulness and affection washing over him. Lang was always so embarrassing, damn him… But seeing the proud, almost giddy expression on his face made Edgeworth’s annoyance melt away, replaced by the soft warmth glowing in his chest. He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor despite the fact that his heart was racing like mad at the attention and applause they were suddenly getting from Lang’s subordinates. He let out a huff of resignation as his eyes flicked over to Lang, who was grinning at him like an overly excited puppy… and, well. How could Edgeworth ever hope to stay mad at him?
God. He was so in love with this absolute fool.