Chapter Text
March 2019
Gumshoe & Maggey
It’s a small community hall with flickering lights and water stains on the ceiling. But they’ve made it festive. The ceremony is sweet and bumbling and goes on for way too long. The flower girl trips. The officiant forgets his speech halfway through. Gumshoe’s ring doesn’t fit.
“Everything’s going wrong,” says Maggey cheerfully, radiant in her lace veil that's torn where somebody stepped on it. Phoenix gives her a hug in the receiving line, shakes Gumshoe’s hand.
Afterwards, people mill around while the line for the buffet dies down.
“Check out the bridesmaids. You’ve got to hook up with one of the wedding party,” Larry advises. “You have to, that’s what weddings are all about.”
“Please,” says Phoenix, pained. “Who invited you?”
Gumshoe seems to have invited everyone he knows. There’s a whole colorful cast of people from the police force, the prosecutors’ office, a group of paroled thieves huddled together in the corner of the room swiping mini quiches. There’s Miles Edgeworth, standing alone, looking way too formal for the occasion. He scowls at the punch bowl in the shaky disco lights.
Phoenix loses Larry in a crowd of friends of the bride, and finds himself standing next to Edgeworth, under the guise of getting his own helping of punch.
“Surprised you haven’t cut and run,” he says.
Edgeworth raises a cool eyebrow. “I still have to deliver my speech.”
“They asked you to make a speech?” says Phoenix. “Oh god, you’re…toast.”
“That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard,” says Edgeworth. “Which explains why you weren’t asked, I suppose.” He takes a long sip of his drink, eyes darting across to the little makeshift stage they’ve set up. He’s nervous. Of course he is, Phoenix thinks, delighted. Edgeworth may be used to speaking in front of packed courtrooms to skeptical jurors and hardened criminals, but definitely not on the topic of wedded bliss.
“So, show me what you’ve got,” Phoenix grins. “I can’t wait to hear your musings on love and lifetime commitment.”
“I wish I could get out of it, I can’t believe I flew in for this…you would not believe the week I’ve had.”
But at Phoenix’s unrelenting look, Edgeworth sighs. He clears his throat and pulls note cards from his jacket pocket, shuffles through them. “The legal definition of marriage is–”
“Wow,” Phoenix interrupts, overjoyed, “you are screwed!”
Edgeworth’s ears flush. “This punch isn’t strong enough,” he mutters furiously.
“Oh, there’s no alcohol in that. C’mon, on Gumshoe’s salary? This wedding is BYOB.”
Edgeworth groans and Phoenix takes pity on him, pulls out the paper bag he’s been concealing in his jacket.
“What is that?” Edgeworth asks dubiously.
“Peach schnapps.”
“Good god,” says Edgeworth, but after a considering look around he holds out his paper cup.
They chat about work, and Edgeworth’s trip abroad, and have fun spotting who in the crowd they’ve prosecuted or gotten cleared of a murder charge. Phoenix has no problem mingling at weddings, but he finds that he’s happy to hang out, just the two of them. It’s almost like he has a date. Which is nice, because Maya couldn’t get out from under her waterfall to be his plus one.
It’s only a short time before they’re called in by the caterers. There are no place cards, so it’s chaotic open seating at dinner. Larry has long abandoned them to chase after a friend of the bride. Phoenix and Edgeworth, who is getting decently hammered by now, sit together at a table with Maggey’s second cousin and three great aunts who can’t really hear anything.
“I don’t agree at all,” Edgeworth says loudly to Phoenix. “The case precedent clearly suggests that in the circumstances you describe a collusion charge would be upheld.”
“Eh??” one of the great aunts calls.
Phoenix smiles at her. “He said he likes Maggey’s dress.”
“Beautiful wedding isn’t it?” she sighs beatifically.
Edgeworth goes back to whatever he’s ranting about, waving around his cup of cheap alcohol, pointing his finger, eyes glassy and cheeks a little pink. Whoever is djing from the tinny portable speakers puts on “My Girl” and Phoenix thinks that, despite the fact that he is sitting on an uncomfortable folding chair eating the worst chicken dinner he’s ever had, he’s having a great time.
He smiles at Edgeworth. There’s bad fluorescent lighting in here, but it’s just getting to be evening outside, and Edgeworth’s eyes are shining in the halo against the dark, his face flushed and impassioned as he talks about California Procedural Code.
Gumshoe and Maggey come around to visit their table, and everyone oohs and aahs over how beautiful and happy they are. Maggey does a twirl in her dress–-the veil’s been safety pinned together–-and Gumshoe beams with pride.
“I just can’t wait for your speech, Sir!” Gumshoe says, overflowing with joy.
Edgeworth nods, looking a little nauseous.
After the couple returns to their head table, Maggey’s cousin spends some time peppering them with questions about LA nightlife–-which Edgeworth almost certainly knows nothing about–-because she’s visiting from Toronto. Phoenix answers her questions and watches with amusement as Edgeworth grows visibly more stressed about his speech, glancing at his notecards every five seconds.
Then there’s a tinkling of glasses, and it’s time for the wedding toasts. First Maggey’s dad, who is crying so much that he’s pretty incoherent. Then Maggey’s sister, who might be the only one to have it together in the family, gives a very tight three minute speech, roasting Maggey without making her a punchline.
Edgeworth is quietly shredding his notecards in his hands. Phoenix reaches over, puts his hand over Edgeworth’s. Edgeworth looks up, startled, and Phoenix takes the opportunity to snatch the cards away.
“Hey!” hisses Edgeworth. “I need those.”
“No you don’t,” Phoenix says. “Just, you know, say nice things about Gumshoe! Speak from the heart.”
“Oh, Christ,” says Edgeworth, but it’s too late for them to argue more. Gumshoe is already standing up to announce his boss and best friend, and someone is wheeling over a microphone from—okay wow—a karaoke machine.
“It’s going to be fine,” Phoenix whispers. “You’ve got it.”
The microphone is thrust into Edgeworth’s hand and he’s standing there awkwardly next to his folding chair with a hundred eyes on him, Maggey and Gumshoe’s nearest and dearest, all looking at him intently to tie this wedding together.
Phoenix watches Edgeworth take a shaky breath. But his hands are perfectly steady. His shoulders are square. He doesn’t fold under the pressure. In fact, he gives his confident courtroom smile and begins: “Gumshoe and Maggey. What can I say? A perfect pair.”
And for some absurd reason Phoenix feels his own heart bursting with pride, he feels like he’s Gumshoe watching Maggey twirl in her lace dress, the way he beamed at her like she was the best thing in the world.
“Gumshoe is…a good man. A good friend, when I needed one most. He may have his, er, his foibles.”
Foibles? Phoenix mouths to himself.
“But no one could ask for a more loyal or kindhearted companion.”
There’s a pause while Edgeworth gathers his thoughts. Phoenix knows that pause well, from their time in the courtroom together. He watches as Edgeworth makes his considering face, carefully weighs what he wants to say.
“Gumshoe and I have seen many terrible things in our years of criminal investigation. We have seen the worst in people many, many times. And one thing that I have learned--is that there are very few people in this world you can count on. At the worst times, when you are at your worst, you need someone there to fight for you. To defend you, and to stand by you. Someone to…believe in you.
“Gumshoe, I can already see that you and Miss Byrde--soon to be Mrs.--will do this for one another. I know that you are someone who she can always count on, I know your dedication and resolve and good character. And I hope that you will be very happy together, for the rest of your lives.”
Edgeworth raises his glass. “Cheers to the happy couple.”
There is a general murmur, cheers and applause. Phoenix looks around the room, at the crepe paper streamers and balloons and silk flowers, all topped off by a “Happy Wedding!” banner someone painted that hangs lopsided but charming in its earnestness.
He looks at the head table where Gumshoe is sobbing openly and Maggey is patting him on the back with a gentle, concerned face, and Phoenix feels some tears welling up in his own eyes. Which, well, isn’t exactly a surprise because he always cries at weddings.
But it’s a little overwhelming, he thinks, as he watches Maggey dry Gumshoe’s tears, watches Gumshoe carefully take her small hand. It’s a little unbelievable. That these two fairly helpless people are doing something so unbelievably grown up, committing to each other for life.
Edgeworth returns to his seat beside Phoenix, wiping at his brow with a paper napkin. Phoenix grins at him.
“Hey,” he says, “you did good.”
“Yes, we’ve all survived it,” says Edgeworth grumpily. “Though I certainly won’t be repeating the experience.”
“I don’t know,” Phoenix lilts. “You’ve got at least one or two more friends out there. Me included. I might request your speaking skills one day.”
“Don’t you dare go getting married, Wright,” says Edgeworth. “Though knowing you, you’ll catch the bouquet, just to annoy me.”
Phoenix laughs, and pours him a fresh cup of schnapps. The DJ puts on “The Way You Look Tonight.” Maggey and Gumshoe enter the small cleared area for their first dance, and someone turns out the lights so that it’s only the little snowflake twinkles they’ve strung from the ceiling.
The couple dances clumsily across the floor and their expressions are dumbstruck, dreamy. The kind of reverent adoring that reminds Phoenix of himself, the way he used to look at Miles, when they were kids.
But hey, he thinks, young love. Young love.