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There’s this trope in media, about the scent of blood. It’s supposed to send alphas into a frenzy, turned feral with bloodlust and compelled to follow it like a wolf on the hunt.
For Phoenix Wright, all it does is make his stomach roll.
The comforting scents of the Fey & Co. Law Offices—paper and coffee, lemon wood polish, Mia’s own alpha scent that commands attention and means safety to Phoenix because he knows the Chief is on his side—it’s all overpowered by the wet, iron tang in the air.
The office isn’t supposed to smell like this. Mia is supposed to be here. They were going out to dinner with her sister. Why is it dark and why is there blood and where is she?
“M...Mia?” He whines her name like a lost pup. The agency is only so big—if she’s here (He wants her to be here so she can take over the situation, so he can look to the older alpha for guidance, but he also doesn’t want her to be here because if she is then—) she’ll be in her office.
As he comes closer to the half-open door, the scent of blood gets stronger, and he hears small, sniffling sobs.
Phoenix has never heard Mia cry.
All of the fear that was making him slow and cautious leaves in a rush, and he runs the rest of the way into the room.
The first thing he sees is Mia— slumped under the window, pale and unmoving. Kneeling next to her is the source of the crying, a younger girl in strange clothes. She’s saying something between gasping sobs. Phoenix can’t make it out over the roar in his ears.
Whatever’s left of Phoenix’s mind doesn’t register the girl as a threat, so he lets himself fall to the floor on Mia’s other side. His shaking hand reaches for the Chief’s shoulder, and for a moment it’s still warm—but in the next few seconds the heat leeches away, leaving her cold.
Although the blood scent is threatening to choke him, Phoenix can sense the way Mia’s scent changes, from alive to… not. He has flash memories of rain and perfume and burned flesh and his stomach rolls again, bile rising in his throat.
Then there’s the strange girl. He’s close enough to tell she’s an omega, but the rest of him is too scattered to pick up on anything else. Part of him wants to join her— to collapse into sobs, to cry until the feelings of fear and dread and wrongness are wrung out of him, to find a nest to burrow in and never come back out.
But Phoenix is an alpha. And right now, he’s the only alpha around.
He tears his eyes away from Mia and reaches for the girl, helping her up with gentle hands on her shoulders. This close he can start to pick through the rest of her scent: salty tears, incense, and candle wax, as well as something… other that he can’t quite name, something cold and damp like a cave deep in the earth. It’s something he’s only ever smelled around Mia before.
She stares up at him, her soft round face splotchy and wet, brown eyes tinted red. There’s something almost familiar about her that he can’t quite place, something in the curve of her nose and the shade of her irises…
He opens his mouth to ask who she is when she lets loose another sob and collapses into his arms, small hands clinging to the front of his jacket as she buries her face in his chest. The smell of her grief hits him full-force and Phoenix’s arms instinctively wrap around her in a vice grip. He thinks he’s probably holding on too tight, almost crushing the small girl, but it just makes her whine and pull herself closer.
He has no idea who this girl is, what she’s doing here, or why she's in the office with Mia’s… Chief’s… the body. But in that instant, he doesn’t care. She’s unmoored, and Phoenix is the only thing she has to hold onto.
After a few seconds, the grip on his jacket suddenly slackens and the girl’s full weight falls onto Phoenix. He just barely manages to steady himself and hold her up. He gets a look at her face and… yeah, she’s passed out.
He casts a last glance at— at the body, the face hidden in shadow and the rest washed out in the streetlight cast from the window. The fire that had once lit her up in court is snuffed out, leaving her almost unrecognizable.
Phoenix forces himself to look away. He picks the girl up and carries her into the lobby, then carefully lays her down on one of the client couches. He lingers for a moment, his hand lightly resting on her neck, feeling the warmth and breath and steady pulse under his fingers.
Phoenix needs to call the police, and maybe an ambulance, but more than that he needs to know what happened. There are countless questions whirling in his mind, and he can still barely breathe around the blood stuffed up his nose and the lump caught in his throat.
He doesn’t know who this girl is, or how she’s involved in whatever happened here. But right now, he thinks he would try to tear apart anything that might come after her.
Maybe that’s the bloodlust the media talks about. Phoenix still mostly feels like he’s going to be sick.
Maya Fey. The girl’s name is Maya Fey. She’s Mia’s little sister.
And it’s her name that’s written in Mia’s blood.
Despite the evidence, Phoenix lets loose a growl when the scruffy detective that barges in starts to cuff her. He makes it as far as laying a hand on the detective’s arm when the other man turns his bared teeth on him in a way that’s surely cowed many a criminal. Much to his shame, Phoenix is no different. He backs off from the larger man, though he’s trembling with repressed instinct to protect this girl he’s barely had one conversation with.
Maya. Mia’s sister.
She didn’t do this. He knows she didn’t do this, with a surety and ferocity that surprises even himself. (He’s felt this once before, but he can’t be wrong, not again.) He just doesn’t have proof. Not yet.
He’s going to tear the prosecution’s case to shreds. Until they’re forced to give up, to let her go, and she’s back safe in his arms again.
The trial ends. Mia helps him from beyond the grave. The man who killed Mia, who ruined the life of her mother and so many more, is put behind bars. Phoenix and Maya are pronounced not guilty. Prosecutor Edgeworth’s perfect record is ruined.
It’s been a hell of a few days.
Maya passes out after the trial, the strain of channeling Mia for so long apparently taking it out of her. Phoenix lays her out on the office couch and tries to push down the sick sense of déjà-vu. Despite his own exhaustion, Phoenix hovers and paces while she sleeps, instinct insisting he stand guard and not let her out of his sight. She doesn’t wake until almost nine in the evening. But when she does she’s bright-eyed and insisting they go out to eat.
They have a celebratory dinner of burgers, fries, and sodas. Somehow, Maya keeps up the cheer throughout, chattering nineteen to the dozen between bites and trying to steal his fries. Something about other evidence she’s held for Mia in the past, and her idea of lawyering that sounds a lot more like an old detective movie than real court. Phoenix doesn’t contribute much, mostly basking in her being here and safe and something resembling happy, at least for the moment.
Then they’re standing outside of the restaurant, and that cheer fades. The chatter stops. The light from the windows washes her face out, and she looks… tired. Tired as Phoenix feels. Like she also hasn’t slept since that horrible night.
Phoenix clears his throat. “Um, so… are you headed home now?”
Maya smiles at him. But he can sense her exhaustion. The effort that smile takes. “Oh, no! It’s way too late for the train, and the village is so far away… I always stay at my sister’s apartment when I visit the city.”
Phoenix can’t help a pang of worry. “Will you be okay on your own tonight?” Maybe it’s his stupid alpha brain being overprotective, but… she’s only 17. She just lost her sister. And part of him still can’t shake the memory of her sobbing in his arms.
Maya waves him off with a short laugh. “Geez, no need to worry! I’m a big girl, Nick.”
His lips twitch at the nickname, but it still feels like something’s off. Not that she’s lying, but maybe she’s not telling him the whole truth. Maybe there’s something he can present…
“Objection!” Phoenix says—not as loud as he would in court, but loud enough to startle her. “I saw those anime pictures on your phone! That’s totally kid stuff.”
Maya’s mouth gapes for a moment, then she punches his shoulder. “Nick! You looked through my phone?!”
“It was evidence!” he defends, and Maya just hits him again, but he’s laughing and soon she is too. He manages to stop the onslaught by grabbing her hand—so small and slender, it almost disappears in his.
Phoenix drops his voice to something less… uh, defensive. “If you’re not too old for that, then you’re not too old for sleepovers.” Maya bites her lip, hesitating. He gives her hand a squeeze, trying to be encouraging. “My place is only a couple bus stops away. Come on.”
Her brown eyes study him for a long moment, the assessing look frightfully familiar. (For a moment, he feels like he’s a teenager again, with Mia looking at his pathetic, sniveling face and somehow seeing someone worth believing in.) Then her tense shoulders slouch and her lips tick up, and she’s just Maya again.
“Okay,” she says quietly. She turns their hands so they’re properly holding each other. Phoenix gives her the best smile he can muster and leads her down the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop.
The bus ride is quiet. Not in an awkward way, but not totally comfortable either. Just a moment of peace after a non-stop few days. Maya leans against his shoulder, their clasped hands resting on his thigh, and Phoenix feels something shiver in his chest. Like the frenzy that had overtaken him that first night has settled there, crouched protectively over this girl. He doesn’t know if it’s just because she’s an omega, or because she’s Mia’s little sister, or some bond that’s formed between them over the last few frantic days through grief and trauma... But even with the danger passed, Phoenix is pretty sure he’d do anything for her.
When Phoenix lets them into his apartment, he’s stumbling over himself in more ways than one. “Sorry it’s, uh, kind of messy,” he says, hopping on one foot as he tries to quickly untie his loafer. “I was— I was really stressed before my first case, then everything else happened…”
May toes off her sandals and wanders in of her own accord. “It’s totally fine! Hey, do you have any snacks around here?”
Phoenix, in the middle of untying his other shoe, turns to shoot her an incredulous look and nearly loses his balance. “Snacks?! We just ate!”
“Yeah, well, I’m hungry again,” Maya says, and he can already hear her poking around in the kitchen. He hurries to get the stupid shoe off. “Oo, snackoos!”
Phoenix groans, but resigns himself to letting Maya raid his pantry. He finds her on the couch, eating snackoos by the handful and probably getting crumbs everywhere. She spots his judgemental look and rolls her eyes, reminding him that she is, in fact, just a teenager. “I’m a growing girl, Nick!”
‘If you’re not careful, you’ll start growing the other way,’ Phoenix thinks, but keeps to himself. He tries to focus on logistics as he undoes his tie. “I only have the one bedroom. If you give me a minute, I’ll change the sheets and you can sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch. Anything’s better than the detention center…”
Ignoring him, Maya kicks up her feet on the arm of the couch and wiggles until she’s making a Maya-shaped dent in the cushions. “Nah, I’m good right here! You’re old, you need the support for your creaky joints.”
“I’m not— ugh,” Phoenix starts, but quickly gives up. He’s way too damn tired to argue. “Alright, sure. Hold on, I’ll get you some stuff…” She’s found the TV remote and isn’t even listening. Phoenix leaves her to it and goes to dig out some bedding.
He leaves her a couple of blankets and pillows on the coffee table, then goes to get out some fresh towels in case she wants to shower. When he steps back into the living room to let Maya know she can have the bathroom, he stops in his tracks.
Maya’s not making a bed. She’s making a nest.
The coffee table has been pushed to the side and the only two chairs Phoenix owns have been commandeered from the tiny dining table to act as support pillars for the tent she’s building. He’s pretty sure those are the couch cushions spread out on the carpet, with the thin blankets he gave her spread over them.
He’s an idiot. Obviously an omega will want to build a nest for comfort. Especially after everything she’s been through, alone and far from home.
Without saying a word, Phoenix steps back out. It’s been a while since he’s seen a proper omegan nest, but he’s pretty sure they usually prefer more than that. Time to raid the rest of his closets. More blankets, his softest towels, even more pillows. Impulsively, he throws his old law school hoodie on top of the pile, and hopes it’s not an overstep.
As has been abundantly clear since he stepped up to the bench for his first case and damn near forgot his own name, Phoenix has no idea what he’s doing. Mia would know—she always knew how to command a room, how to make clients feel protected, how to force out the truth. She was an amazing alpha. But she’s not here to hold his hand right now. He can only keep fumbling through the dark and hope he doesn’t trip on any of the many, many ways he could mess this up.
When he returns with the armload, Maya’s eyes go wide. Then she kind of tackles him to take it all at once. Her smile is suddenly wide and real and Phoenix finally feels like he did something right.
Hours later, long after they’ve said their goodnights, Phoenix is still wide awake.
His old mattress should feel like heaven after a night spent on the stiff cot in the detention center. But he can’t get comfortable, no matter which way he tosses and turns. Despite his exhaustion, there’s a restlessness in his limbs that he can’t shake.
He knows exactly why. It’s because no matter how he strains his ears, he can’t hear anything but the rattle of his old air conditioning unit. And that’s enough to make his stupid alpha hindbrain think that means Maya isn’t safe. That something horrible happened while she was out of his sight, that she’s still and unmoving just like—
Phoenix sits up, a few notes of an anxious whine escaping before he can choke it back. He buries his head in his hands and digs his fingers into the spikes of his hair.
‘Get a grip on yourself. She’s fine. She’s just sleeping. It’s normal to be quiet and still when you’re sleeping.’
… Yeah, that’s not one of his stronger arguments. He can imagine Edgeworth picking it apart like the asshole he is. Phoenix needs evidence.
As quietly as he can, Phoenix gets up and tiptoes out of his room. He’ll just take a quick look, confirm that she’s fine, and maybe that will calm him down enough to let him rest.
He creeps into the living room as quietly as he can. Already, just the faint presence of Maya’s scent is enough to let him unclench his jaw. But Phoenix needs eyes on her. He has to get pretty close to look into the nest, all the lights are off and Maya basically built herself a fortress…
He peeks in on Maya and meets wide open eyes. They both jump with identical shrieks.
“Nick!” Maya snaps. She’s got a piece of fabric bunched up in her hands, half-raised like it would shield her. “You scared me!”
Phoenix throws out his pointer finger at her. “You scared me! Why are you even awake?!”
Maya drops her hands in her lap with a huff. “Why are you?!”
“I-I asked you first!”
This is stupid. Phoenix drops his arm with a sigh and rubs at his tired eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling. I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I thought… Nevermind.” He can’t bring himself to say it out loud. He’s supposed to be strong, and rational, and right now he’s anything but. What kind of alpha doesn’t feel secure enough that their own home can’t be enough protection?
When he dares to look at Maya, her expression has softened. Actually, everything about her is softer. She’s shed her jewelry and outer robes, leaving her only in a thin camisole-dress-thing. Between that and having her hair down… she looks so young, so small and alone. It makes him want to bundle her up and never let her out of his sight again.
“Yeah,” Maya says, idly rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “I don’t feel like sleeping either. I guess I slept too much after the trial, heh.”
They stare at each other for a long, drawn-out moment. But even with the evidence presented to him, Phoenix doesn’t want to go back to his room. If anything, he wants it even less. This has backfired horribly.
He feels like a spirit. Hovering, lingering. Waiting to be called on. Helpless until he is.
“But you’re… You’re comfortable, right?” Phoenix asks, scratching the back of his neck. He’s fishing for something to say, something to do. “I mean, the nest looks comfortable. It looks great! You, uh… You did a good job with it.”
There’s a smile creeping onto Maya’s face. Even though it’s at his expense, Phoenix is just relieved to see it. “Thanks! Yeah, it’s really comfy. No problem there.”
Does that mean there is a problem?
Before Phoenix can try to figure out if he should press, Maya goes and surprises him.
“Would you… um, would you like to come in?” she asks. “I mean, it’s made from your stuff, you should get to feel how nice it is.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal that she’s inviting him into her nest. But she’s looking at her fidgeting hands instead of meeting his eyes. He wonders if she feels just as lost in all this as he does.
With a start, he realizes the thing she’s been clutching like a lifeline is his old hoodie. That makes something warm and pleased bloom in his chest. He suddenly feels a little more confident in saying, “Yeah. Yeah, sure, if you’ll—I mean, if that’s okay.”
Maya looks up at him only to roll her eyes. “Of course it’s okay. I just said you could, dummy! Come in already.” She scoots over and pats the spot next to her.
Well, it would be rude not to at this point.
Phoenix crawls in on his hands and knees, doing his best to be careful and not knock into anything. The space is a bit cramped for two, but it’s soft and warm and everything smells overwhelmingly like both him and Maya, and that’s comforting beyond words. Finally, finally, he feels his muscles lose tension and fully relax for the first time in… days, now. The warm, slightly stuffy air of the enclosed nest makes him feel a bit like a pup again, bundled up by his mother.
He looks sidelong at Maya. He takes in the heavy bags under her eyes, her red lip from worrying it between her teeth, her shoulders hunched more than the low ceiling of the nest really calls for. He shifts a bit closer until their shoulders are touching, hoping the warm point of contact works to anchor them both.
“Are you really not tired?” Phoenix asks carefully. “Are you having trouble sleeping somewhere new? Or… something else?”
Maya doesn’t answer immediately. She’s looking at her hands again instead of him, rubbing the fabric of the hoodie between her fingers. “No, that’s… I mean, being here is… it’s better.” Her eyes, black in the darkness, cut to him briefly before looking away again. “I tried to sleep in sis' apartment last night and… I couldn’t. Her scent was everywhere, but she wasn’t there, and it was just… it was too much.”
“...Oh.” Phoenix gets what she means. Even though the crime scene people cleaned up the place, it’s going to be weird going to the office for a while, until Mia’s scent stops lingering there. Trying to sleep while swimming in it? Yeah, not happening.
“But I think being alone is also too much,” Maya adds. Then she squeezes her eyes shut and, in a voice so small he can barely hear it even in the scant few inches between them, Maya asks, “Stay? Please?”
“Yes.” It isn’t a conscious decision. The word just jumps out, like Maya grabbed his heart with her hands and pulled. “I mean, yeah. If that’s what you want, then… I’ll stay.” She gives a tiny nod, and that settles it.
They lie down and curl up together inside the nest, Maya’s head tucked under his chin and Phoenix’s arms encircling her. (As if that way he can protect her, protect her better than he did with—) It’s not perfect. Maya’s loose hair is tickling Phoenix’s nose and her knee is digging into his hip, and she grumbled about his hands being cold while he figured out where to settle them. But he thinks it’s okay. They’re just two broken pieces figuring out how to fit together.
For a while they just quietly breathe together. Phoenix’s anxious mind finally settles, satisfied that Maya is as safe as she can be. His eyelids grow heavier by the second.
“You know… the last time I did this was with sis, years ago,” Maya says. Her voice is soft in the darkness, but something about it makes him feel like he needs to pay attention. Phoenix drags himself back to wakefulness.
“Yeah?” he mumbles, then interrupts himself with a yawn. “Didn’t take her as the cuddly type.”
Maya hums. “Not usually. But… It was the night before she left for law school. We hadn’t slept in the same nest since we were pups, but I was really upset and it was the only thing that calmed me down. I know… I know why she wanted to leave… why she felt like she had to. It was for our family. I, I understood. I guess, in the end, she was right to do it. That awful man was stopped because of her.
“She promised to keep in touch and—and she did. She really did, Nick. She called the village payphone every week until she saved up enough to get me my own cellphone. Then I could call whenever I wanted and she would always pick up. Always. But… But I couldn’t help being a little scared.” She takes a short, shaky breath. Whatever control she had over her composure is crumbling, distress leaking into her scent like an oil spill. “Because when, when Mom left—she, she didn’t—she didn’t come back. And I was afraid that sis wouldn’t—would never really return to the village, not, not after being away for so long and, and seeing the world. Now she’ll never come back because she’s gone—”
Maya’s voice breaks and she falls silent. Phoenix is holding her so tight, so close, that he can feel every minute tremble in her body. He’s not sure if she’s crying, but he can smell her grief, heavy and rotten. He’s quietly freaking out a little, because unless she passes out again Phoenix has no clue what to do beyond what he’s already doing. He can’t hold her any tighter without crushing her. He can’t fight what’s making her upset.
Phoenix is back in the courtroom, fumbling and empty-handed, needing someone to give him the answers. But the only person who could is… is gone. That’s the whole problem.
They both have a gaping Mia-shaped hole in their lives. He can’t bluff his way through that.
Phoenix loosens one arm and feels a pang of guilt when he feels Maya flinch. Her hands grip his loose sleep shirt even tighter. He makes a shushing noise and goes through with what he meant to do, stroking his hand down her hair in smooth, steady motions. Phoenix doesn’t have siblings, but it feels like something you’d do for a sister. He wonders if Mia ever did this.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Phoenix says. He intends for it to be a simple reassurance, that he won’t leave this embrace. But it comes out deep and gruff, an echo of that first frenzy shuttering through him. And Phoenix realizes, with terrifying clarity, that he means it. Not just here, tonight. But for as long she needs him. Even if that’s forever.
That’s probably a dangerous promise to make. But, damn it all, he wants to make it true. Murderers, prosecutors, hell, even if there’s a fire, he is going to be there. Whatever that entails.
Against all odds, Maya feels safe with him. He can’t imagine ruining that.
“Nick…” Maya chokes out, but doesn’t say anything more. She still smells sad and distressed and grieving, and she sounds scared. Like she wants to believe him but can’t quite bring herself to.
Phoenix becomes conscious of the way he’s petting Maya’s hair, the inside of his wrist just brushing the strands, the scent gland there skimming over it. And suddenly that doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere close to enough.
Phoenix’s instincts haven’t been wrong about this yet.
He cups the side of her face and rubs the edges of his jaw across her head, over and over, covering the top and sides in his scent. A claim as sure as sunrise.
You’re with me. I’m with you. No matter where you go, you’ll have me.
“I’m not leaving you, Maya. I won’t,” Phoenix says, nearly a growl. Daring the world to prove him wrong.
Huh. He actually sounds like an alpha.
On his next inhale, there’s salt, and that’s all the warning he gets before Maya bursts into sobs. Phoenix briefly worries that she doesn’t believe him, or that it’s not enough. But she’s not pulling away, she’s not shaking him off or rejecting his claim. She’s pushing up, nearly headbutting him, and the rotten scent of grief is fading into something that’s more Maya. Incense. Candlewax. That deep, haunting cold that he’s pretty sure by now is from the Fey family’s gift. It’s strange how comforting it’s become. And below all that, something fresh and green that he tentatively labels as hope. Phoenix holds her through it.
Eventually, the crying dies down into sniffles and the occasional hiccup. Phoenix lets the quiet rest for a few seconds before breaking it. “You okay?”
He feels her nod into his shoulder, which is now thoroughly damp. “Yeah,” she croaks. Then, barely a whisper, “Thanks, Nick.”
Phoenix feels such a strong surge of affection it nearly chokes him. He has to clear his throat before he can respond. “Yeah. Anytime.”
He leaves the nest only briefly to fetch some tissues and a cup of water for Maya and a fresh shirt for himself. Then they cuddle up again, Maya with her head on his chest and Phoenix hugging her close. This time, they find each other’s edges easily, and they melt together into the softness of the nest. Utterly spent, physically and emotionally, sleep finds them both quickly.
The next day is slow and quiet. Phoenix tries to make breakfast, only to realize that he has almost nothing of substance in his kitchen, and they end up going out for both pancakes and groceries. When they get back Maya ransacks his movie collection, complains about the lack of “young people’s cinema,” and he gripes about how her taste is childish. She takes to treating him as furniture to lay on when they huddle in the nest in front of the TV, Maya all gangly limbs and pointy elbows. Phoenix tries to act annoyed about it, but she clearly sees right through him and just flashes that cheeky smile that’s growing on him like a fungus.
Halfway through the second movie, he catches Maya failing to smother her giggles. Considering they’re at a decidedly boring part, Phoenix doesn’t think it’s about what they’re watching.
She’s half-sprawled across his lap, head resting on his chest. He pokes her with the arm not falling asleep under her weight. “Hey, what’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she says, and it’s such an obvious lie he’s almost offended. Phoenix pokes her again, near the armpit where he figured out she’s the most ticklish. She squeaks and tries to wiggle away, but he doesn’t let her get far.
“Come on! Just tell me.”
“Really, it’s nothing!” At his raised eyebrow, she huffs. But the smile still hasn’t left her face. “Fine! You’re just… loud.”
Phoenix frowns, confused. “What? But I didn’t say anything!”
“I mean your purr,” Maya says, like he’s stupid. And maybe he is, because Phoenix hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. He can feel his face go hot, which makes Maya grin even more.
Phoenix is just… happy. He can’t help it. He’s safe and comfortable and it’s fun hanging out with Maya. She’s a little annoying, sure, but she’s also cheerful and funny and goes at everything with a determined enthusiasm that makes him wonder when law school beat it out of him. He didn’t get to see much of this side of her during the trial. He likes it. He likes her.
He wonders if Mia knew they would get along so well.
Phoenix clears his throat, trying to smother the purr. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Maya suddenly throws her weight against his front, arms wrapped around his middle and ear pressed to his chest. “Nooo, don’t stop!”
Phoenix knows he has to be red to his ears now. “You just said I was loud!”
“Yeah, but in a good way! It’s a lot better than your snores.”
“I don’t snore!”
“Uh-huh. Sure, Nick. Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
Embarrassment keeps Phoenix tense and silent. But after a few moments he steadily feels himself relaxing again. He catches on when he gets a whiff of something… herby, like tea. Maya’s putting out calming omega pheromones.
“Cheater,” he grumbles, but his heart’s not in it.
“It’s working, isn’t it?” Maya says, not sounding apologetic in the least. “Now just relax and enjoy the movie.”
Phoenix huffs, though he can’t help his lips twitching up in a smile. He does as she says and focuses back on the movie. He doesn’t think they missed much… probably. The plot is nothing special anyways. But Maya is a warm, relaxed weight in his arms, and that’s the part he really cares about.
Now that he’s looking out for it, Phoenix feels it when the purr starts up again. But he doesn’t try to stop it. Maya turns herself enough to grin at him, then wiggles around until she’s seated on his lap like a lounge chair, the back of her head resting against the center of his chest.
“Can you even hear the movie with how loud I am?” Phoenix asks, mostly sarcastic. The purr does weird things to his voice, like he’s speaking through a fan.
She slaps his shoulder without bothering to look at him. “Geez, you’re touchy! I told you, it’s loud in a good way. It’s like… It reminds me of the waterfalls back home. I can sit there for hours and not think about anything and just… be at peace, y’know?”
Phoenix doesn’t, not really. He’s only ever seen waterfalls on vacation posters, and sitting still for hours sounds like torture no matter where you do it. But being here, bantering with Maya over meaningless things, no case or murderers to worry about… that’s pretty close to peace for him.
“Whatever makes you happy,” he says, a little less sarcastic and a lot more fond than he means to.
A soft trill rises from Maya’s chest in answer. A wordless reassurance that she is.
Somewhere between sharing snacks and arguing about if the comedy they’re watching is too “dated” or not, they fall asleep tangled in the nest again. The next day they have to wash most of the nesting material because of the crumbs and cheesy residue everywhere. Phoenix does his best to help her build it again and puts up with Maya nagging him about how he’s doing it wrong.
Maya doesn’t mention anything about going back to Kurain Village. Phoenix doesn’t ask.
She can stay as long as she wants. He’ll be here for as long as she needs him.
(He might need her, too.)