Written by CantFaketheFunk and Raelle or our gorgeous, beloved musouka, on her birthday! Try not to fall down and break any hips, old woman~~ <3

Phoenix/Edgeworth. MAJOR GS3 SPOILERS.You have been warned.



It had been far too long, thought Phoenix Wright to himself as he stood in the small kitchen of his apartment, keeping one eye on a pot of boiling pasta, since all of them had had time to relax together.

Oh, sure, there had been time for him to relax, to sit back on his familiar lumpy couch and turn on his television and watch some sporting event that he didn’t really care about as the stress of the week bled off him into the air harmlessly.

However, there were other people in his life that Phoenix Wright whose absence he felt more and more keenly in the recent weeks. The only problem, then, was actually getting to see them when they all seemed to be going in every other direction. Maya was busy with her duties as Head of Kurain, and though she continued to call him like clockwork every weekend, their face-to-face visits were growing farther and farther apart. While Pearl Fey could certainly manage the journey on her own (and had a few times), she was almost always with her cousin.

And as for Edgeworth…?

Well, they saw each other. More of each other than Phoenix Wright of past years could have ever imagined seeing. But Miles Edgeworth was a busy man, and Phoenix had his own cases to take. Besides, whether they were just friends or… whatever they were now, there was absolutely no chance in hell that Edgeworth would ever not take a case due to a social engagement.

This weekend, though, had been, for the first time Phoenix could remember in months… free. He had no cases to argue or prepare for, and for once, neither did Miles. Maya and Pearl were eager to come down for a slightly overdue visit, and so it was that Phoenix Wright found the three people closest to him all in his apartment that Friday night. (He, on a whim, had even called up Larry to see if he’d been doing anything—though his childhood friend, predictably, had a date with his latest girlfriend… Phoenix couldn’t remember her name, but he was pretty sure it started with “La.”)

It was the strangest feeling, but for some reason it almost seemed to Phoenix like a family reunion of sorts.

Edgeworth had, with that slightly bemused expression that was only slightly different from the condescending one he wore in court, asked Phoenix if he was ‘absolutely certain he didn’t simply want to order takeout.’ Slightly miffed, Phoenix had responded that he’d been living on his own for years, and he could certainly cook a dinner. Of course, the dinner was going to be a simple spaghetti dish, but food was food.

Phoenix stood in the small kitchen dividing his attention between watching the pot to make sure it wasn’t boiling over, and glancing at the other three in his living room. Maya was sitting on the lumpy green couch that she, too, had grown fond of, with Pearl lying down beside her, head resting on her cousin’s lap. They were watching the Steel Samurai videos that Maya had brought with her—how the spirit medium could watch the same few episodes over and over and not get excruciatingly bored, Phoenix had no idea.

Though Miles Edgeworth hadn’t completely left work behind—he was sitting in one of Phoenix’s lounge chairs, looking through some paperwork about a recently finished trial that wasn’t even due until the next Wednesday… but really, he seemed to be paying just as much attention to the events on-screen than he was to anything else.

In fact, he had just started explaining to Maya the reasoning behind the fan-theory that the Evil Magistrate and the Steel Samurai had the same sensei in their youth (both she and Pearl looked awestruck)… when there was a loud sound that was almost like a fthwump.

The lawyer looked up from giving the boiling noodles a stir, planning on asking the three to turn down the volume a bit; he did have neighbors who could be rather touchy about that sort of thing… but to his consternation, there wasn’t any sort of action on the screen at all (for once).

In the next instant, his apartment door flew open with a deafening crash. Pearl squealed, sitting up straight on the couch, Maya gave a slight jump and turned to face the door; even Edgeworth turned in his seat, startled.

Larry Butz was standing in the doorway, his hair even more mussed up than it normally was, his face red with tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes. He was wearing a garish orange suit, though the tie around his neck was undone, as were the uppermost buttons of his nauseating checkered shirt below. He was holding a bag of sort in his hand, and seemed to be leaning on the door for support as he panted, catching his breath.

In the next few seconds, his tear-filled eyes surveyed the room, from Nick standing in the little kitchen alcove all the way over to Maya and Pearl on the couch. “HEY NICK!” he exclaimed in that hysterical pitch unique to his voice, “HEY EDGEY! HEY GIRLS!” he sniffed, though the volume of his voice was in no way diminished.

Clearly, his date had not gone as planned. Phoenix would have been lying to himself if he’d said he was surprised. “Nick!” he began, shiny tears now streaming down his face in earnest. “She dumped me, Nick! Laverne dumped me! She wouldn’t even let me buy her dinner, Nick! How cruel is that?! It’s unfair! She’s gone, Nick, GONE!”

Phoenix sighed, and he and Edgeworth momentarily shared a glance of knowing and familiar exasperation. Maya gave a tiny shrug accompanied by a roll of her eyes before turning back to the momentarily-forgotten spectacle on the screen. However, Pearl seemed absolutely aghast at the announcement, her hands clamped to her mouth and her eyes wide. “That’s… that’s horrible!”

“It IS horrible!” agreed Larry, still sniffling through the tears. He turned his attention back to Phoenix, whipping his arm out from behind his back—and the lawyer could see the outlines of what was unmistakably a case of alcohol inside the white plastic bag. “I… I BROUGHT BEER!”

Another sigh. Larry’s relationships were so predictable you could practically keep time by them. Infatuation, rejection, inebriation… just like clockwork.

Still, there was going to be more food than the four of them (Maya included, even) could eat, and Phoenix figured that he probably should ensure his friend didn’t end up hurting himself or causing some sort of international incident while drunk. “Come in, Larry,” he said evenly, trying to keep his patience. Really, he was used to this.

Larry kept sniffling and crying all throughout dinner, despite the attempts from Pearl (clearly distraught over the failings of love) to cheer him up and bolster his spirits. Phoenix wondered how he could sob and eat at the same time without choking. He, Edgeworth, and Maya managed to hold their own conversation… after all, this was just something Larry had to get out of his system (and presumably replace it with copious amounts of beer) before he’d be back to the same old womanizing spaz that they were all quite familiar with.

Once they’d finished their meal, Larry flopped down on the lumpy couch, still sniffling into the cushions, and cracked open the first of what would no doubt be many cans of beer. Phoenix had started to clean the dishes and pots he’d used to make the dinner, and Edgeworth had gone to help him out of simple social courtesy.

“You know how he gets. He’ll be in no shape to drive, Wright.” Edgeworth had his sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the remnants of pasta and tomato sauce from their dinner plates. Outside of the kitchen alcove, they could see Larry already starting on beer number two.

“Well, if… we’re in my room,” Phoenix said slowly, the words still strange to hear himself say even now, “and the girls are sharing the other room, he can just sleep on the couch. It’s fine… he’s done it before.” To be fair, Phoenix suspected that their friend had really never gone to Edgeworth’s place after one of his spectacular breakups—not only would Edgeworth likely flat-out refuse, he was often abroad, which made it difficult to really ‘crash at his place,’ so to speak.

The two continued doing the dishes in silence as Maya resumed her Steel Samurai marathon… when a very determined-looking Pearl Fey appeared at the mouth of the kitchen alcove. Phoenix and Edgeworth shared the briefest of looks, both clearly remembering a prior incident where the young girl had cornered them here in the kitchen… though thankfully, this was a much less potentially embarrassing situation.

For a small girl barely ten years old, Pearl could be quite intimidating when she wanted to. “You two should be ashamed!” She began, her hands on her hips and an unyielding determination in her eyes.

The two men glanced at each other again, and Phoenix could see the same confusion in Edgeworth’s eyes that he was presently feeling. Ashamed? For what? They’d only been washing dishes this time!

“You’re his best friends! He’s… he’s heartbroken! You should go help him!”

Oh. That.

Another shared glance; a series of words communicated through Edgeworth’s quirk of the eyebrow, you deal with this, Phoenix’s half-hearted shrug in response. Fine. He threw his damp towel onto the counter and leaned forward to meet Pearl in the eye.

“Pearls,” he said, “This might be sort of hard for you to understand, but this is Larry we’re talking about. We’ve known him for a long time. He’s not exactly…” Pearl’s eyes narrowed, disapproval already written into every line of her young face, and Phoenix had to keep himself from retreating a half-step against the sink.

His faltering didn’t escape Edgeworth’s notice, though he looked more amused than sympathetic at Phoenix’s terrorization at the hands of a girl of ten. “One to be taken seriously,” the prosecutor finished, turning over another plate in the sudsy water.

“Yeah,” said Phoenix. “What you just saw--this isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. We’re kind of used to it; he’s been at this ever since we’ve been--” he cut himself off with a squawk of pain as a sandal crunched down on his left foot.

“Mr. Nick! You mean to say that this has been going on for a long time and you still haven’t done anything!?” Pearl’s voice was shrill with horror and indignation. In the corner of his eye, Phoenix saw Edgeworth subtly removing himself from the conversation entirely, the side of his face quickly turning away, stray bubbles from the dish soap catching in his hair as he immersed himself with the silverware. He felt vaguely betrayed.

One foot raised, bracing himself on the counter for support, Phoenix spoke through gritted teeth. “Look, it’s not that we don’t care about Larry. It’s just--he does this. It’s a thing. It’s like… a condition with him. He doesn’t need us patting him on the back to get better. It’s just Larry…”

Pearl was shaking her head. “But he’s heartbroken… didn’t you see how he was crying? Mr. Nick? Mr. Edgeworth?” she appealed, turning her attention onto the prosecutor. Edgeworth, for his part, seemed wholly fascinated by the curve of Maya’s Steel Samurai mug.

“Pearls, just trust us on this one, okay? Larry gets dramatic but there’s not a whole lot to be done about it. He’ll be over it in a week and onto the next girlfriend. It’s just the way he works.”

Pearl’s expression was mulish; she eyed Phoenix’s uninjured foot in something that was too close to temptation for comfort, before her shoulders drooped and she shuffled her way out of the kitchen, defeated. At the doorway, she shot Phoenix and Edgeworth one last, pleading look, and if Phoenix did not believe in a human being’s potential to unleash concentrated laser beams of guilt through their retinas before, he certainly did now.

“You really won’t help?” she asked again, a note of genuine desperation in her voice. Something in Phoenix’s chest felt heavy at his own failure to live up to another one of Pearl’s fairy tale ideals; Edgeworth met him in the eye again at last, but Phoenix was still surprised when he spoke in place of his own lack of answer.

“He already is, as much as can be expected.” He began draining the sink of water, drying his hands neatly on a nearby towel. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Pearl still seemed inclined to argue with that, but as Edgeworth turned to face her, she wavered, chewing contemplatively on the nail of her thumb as they exchanged a brief staring contest Phoenix was deeply thankful he didn’t have to be caught in the middle of.

Then she was gone, and the only thing coming from the doorway was the sound of Maya’s laughter and the climactic battle cries of the video playing on television.



The phone rang, and she woke with a start. She bit back a sigh, brushing strands of dark hair out of her face, trying to blink sleepiness quickly out of her eyes. The evenings had been cold, lately, and she hadn’t been sleeping very well. A glance out the window told her it was still in the middle of the night.

Fumbling in the darkness for the lamp, she felt herself knock over the phone--she half-fell out of bed, tangled in blankets, and her hands rustled around the floor to retrieve it again. She blinked in surprise when she saw the name of the caller ID. Perplexed, she raised the receiver to her mouth, and was not sure why she felt inclined to speak in hushed tones.

“Hello?”

“It’s an emergency! You have to come over, right away!”

The young voice on the other end sounded stricken, and her heart leapt in her throat, a million different disasters springing to her mind at once. She fell the rest of the way out of the bed, free hand finally snapping on the nearby lantern. Her throat was tight with panic; she fought it down.

“I’ll be there,” she said, “as soon as possible.” Where had she put that train schedule? “What’s happened, Pearl?”

“It’s Mr. Nick’s friend…”


The morning had started out like so many others.

Phoenix had woken up at a godforsaken hour--six o’ clock, his cellphone told him, as Edgeworth’s ear piercing alarm began to blare on the far side of the bed. Miles had risen, Phoenix had stuffed his head under his pillow, and it continued to wail stubbornly even as the sound of the shower came on. Phoenix rolled over twice, contemplated his chances of accurately pitching it out of the ajar window, before convincing himself once again to do the reasonable thing and simply switched it off.

He wasn’t quite back asleep when he heard footsteps re-enter the room, linger hesitantly at the side of his bed, before a warm set of fingers brushed softly over his mussed hair and quickly retreated. A moment later, door closed in the distance, and Phoenix knew he had gone.

Phoenix sighed and settled back down into the warm blankets, grateful that he was more or less self-employed and didn’t similarly have to get up at what he considered ridiculous hours.

He skirted on the edge of an odd dream; they always seemed to come easiest in this block of time between Edgeworth disrupting his main stretch of sleep and when he finally dragged himself out of bed to depart for his own office. Larry was hollering something about kitchenware in his ear; Pearl had apparently learned to fly, to Maya’s deep jealousy, and no matter how he tried to ignore it the doorbell to his office would not stop ringing.

Phoenix opened his eyes. Wait.

The doorbell really was ringing.

He sat up, groaning, taking a glance at Edgeworth’s obnoxious alarm clock--right, he had switched the damn thing off--and dug his phone out of his pillowcase to see it was nearly eight. Still too early for a non-trial day.

The doorbell didn’t cease as he slowly dragged himself forward and fumbled around for his bathrobe; if anything, it seemed to grow more insistent, in successions of three quick rings, punctuated by occasional knocking.

Had Miles forgotten something? It seemed unlikely.

He yanked the door open, holding together the front end of his bathrobe with his free hand--he noticed now he had grabbed the wrong one as the pink cotton bunched together in his hands--and blinked in irritation at the intruding sunlight against his eyes, temporarily blinding him to anything but a small, rather demure sort of silhouette standing before him.

His jaw fell open.

Her dark hair shone against the sunlight, pulled back in their usual twin braids, falling gracefully about her shoulders--still clad in traditional shrine maiden garb. Even though years had passed, her face always seemed an identical match to the shy college girl from his memory.

“Iris!”

She smiled at him, and a wave of heat rose against Phoenix’s face, suddenly self-conscious at his present state of dress and the awkward way his ankles and toes were poking from the bottom of the robe--Edgeworth‘s robe. He silently cursed that he hadn’t just gone with his better instincts and grabbed something decent, at the very least something of his own, stopped for just a few seconds and combed the worst tangles out of his hair.

But if Iris was startled or frightened at his unkempt appearance, she hid it very well.

“Fee…” She caught herself. “Phoenix.” The familiar flush on her cheeks quickly faded, into a less familiar look of intense concern.

It had been a long time since they had seen each other face-to-face. In the year since they had said goodbye to each other in the courtroom, they had kept contact mostly by phone.

Phoenix swallowed, and his hands clutched at the edge of the door. He opened his mouth to excuse himself while he made himself more decent--no, I can‘t just shut the door back in her face--and Iris’s look of worry only seemed to compound as she watched the thoroughly embarrassing internal struggle play out on Phoenix’s face.

“Is it a bad time?” she asked.

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s great to see you.” He made his decision then, and stepped back to let her in. The door closed with a click behind her. It’s Iris. What am I afraid of?

As she stepped in, Iris nearly tripped over one of Larry’s empty beer cans, still strewn about the floor. She staggered backwards and barely managed to avoid colliding into the couch, which currently housed, beneath a blanket, a very large and snoring lump.

Oh. Right. That’s what.

“Sorry,” Phoenix said, “You were sort of… unexpected, and I had company last night, so--”

“It’s fine,” Iris said.

Phoenix cleared his throat, and tried to covertly kick a few more of the cans under the couch and out of sight before speaking again.

“What’s brought you here?”

“An emergency,” she said, apologetic. “…I think.”

“An emergency?” Phoenix cast a longing look to the back hallway, where the bathroom was obscured from view--with its combs and razors and shaving cream and, with any luck, a half-decent set of clothes hidden somewhere in the bottom of the laundry tub.

“Pearl gave me a call last night,” Iris explained. Phoenix turned back to her, bewildered, concern mirroring Iris’s forming a crease on his brow.

“Pearls? Did something happen? I didn’t hear anything… as far as I know they were here all night--” He turned back to the hall, but his intent was now focused on the closed door that led to Pearl and Maya’s room.

“Well…” Iris’s tone was increasingly ginger. “She said I needed to come here first thing in the morning, and that it had to do with a friend of yours…”

Phoenix stopped. He suddenly found himself with an acute urge to punch himself repeatedly in the face.

“Phoenix?”

“Iris,” he said, meaning every word, “I am so, so sorry.”

“Er…?” she prompted, politely, but clearly confused.

As if on cue, the hall door swung open, and Maya strolled out in her pajamas, arms still stretched out above her head. She threw her head to side to side to work out the tension in her neck, and Pearl trotted out delicately after her, her hair unbound and surprisingly long against her small shoulders. Phoenix loved her dearly. He loved them both dearly. But in his current predicament, clad in his flimsy bathrobe, surrounded by empty beer cans, and with Iris still blinking next to him, he had to wonder with no small amount of urgency where Maya could have put that one-way return ticket back to Kurain.

“Morning, Nick!” Maya called through a stifled yawn. “What’s for breakfa… huh?” She squinted at the newcomer. “Hey, isn’t that…”

“Miss Iris!” Pearl squealed. She darted out from behind her cousin; the sisters clasped hands, and Phoenix’s foul mood waned slightly in spite of himself. “You came!”

“Yes, I did,” Iris affirmed.

“Pearls…” Phoenix began.

“I’m so happy,” Pearl said, shooting Phoenix a look that clearly said I had to do something because YOU wouldn’t.

“So,” Iris said, casting a quick glance back at Phoenix, and something like wariness entering her voice. “There’s an emergency…?”

“Yes,” Pearl said. “Mr. Nick’s friend is heartbroken and needs help. No one else would be there for him, so…” She traced a circle in the carpet with her foot, hands folded shyly behind his back. “I was hoping you could help. He doesn’t think he can fall in love again, and that‘s… that‘s just… not true!” Her fists balled up; she swung them in the air with the force of her passion. “It can‘t be true!”

Maya shot a look at Phoenix, who looked at Iris, who simply looked increasingly nervous.

“Um, who is--?”

“Pearls--”

“Pearly, you didn‘t--”

But there was no stopping her. With dramatic flourish, Pearl rushed to the other side of the room and whipped off the blanket covering the lump on the couch, revealing the snoring form of Larry, gangly legs draped over the armrest and television remote halfway in his drooling mouth. Phoenix was grateful that at the very least, he still had clothes on.

“It’s Mr. Butz!” she exclaimed, as though unveiling a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime prize. “You remember him, don’t you? Mr. Nick’s best friend?”

“I… I remember,” Iris said, taken aback, and a well of pity bubbled anew in Phoenix’s chest.

“Pearls, I think that’s enough,” he cut in. “I know you meant well, but this is…”

“Your friend,” Pearl repeated, with a thoroughly offended sniff. “Your best friend.”

Larry stirred and he made a muffled sound, eyelids cracking open at the commotion.

Phoenix put his face in his hands, resigning himself to his fate.

“Good morning, Mr. Butz!” Pearl was beaming, peering over him, practically bouncing on her heels. “Look! You have a visitor!”

Lary’s eyes opened the rest of the way, before his vision focused.

“Whoa! Iris?” Larry squawked. The remote, covered in spittle, flew halfway across the room onto the floor. “Oh man! Oh man! This has gotta be a dream, right? I’m dreaming!” He pinched himself hard, and yelped when he failed to wake up. “Oh, oh man, it’s really you? Like, really, really you and not, like… your evil twin sister, right?”

Iris stiffened. A wall closed in front of her eyes. Phoenix lifted his head and began forward, but paused when Iris spoke again, words level.

“Pearl told me you were having some kind of trouble. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, quite kindly. She’s a veritable saint, Phoenix thought.

“Trouble?” Larry sat up, scratching the back of his head. “Uh… I’m always pretty much in trouble one way or another.” He shot Iris a grin Phoenix supposed he hoped was charming.

“Okay…” Pearl breathed in, deeply, bracing herself. Contemplation flickered over her face, pondering how to best make her intentions clear, and then, decisively, she climbed over Larry to stand on the couch’s armrest so that she was at eye level with the adults in the room. Her arm flew out in a dramatic point, Kurain bracelet on her wrist swaying with the motion.

Maya looked bemused, and quirked an eyebrow at Phoenix. Where do you think she learned that? Phoenix shook his head. I have nothing to do with this.

“You two, and Mr. Nick and Mr. Edgeworth--” she pointed at them all in turn, despite wobbling momentarily on the couch’s armrest, and Phoenix, Iris and Maya alike jerked forward, prepared to catch her if she fell-- “are going on a double date!”

Silence.

Please let this be a bad dream, Phoenix pleaded silently. Any moment now I’m going to wake up, as usual, to Maya calling and yelling at me for being two hours late to the office.

But then Maya burst out laughing, and Larry let out a “Woo-hoo!”, ascertaining reality, and Phoenix’s stomach sank lower than he thought possible.

“Um,” Iris volunteered, weakly. It was almost like protest.

“Why Edgeworth and I, too?” he managed to ask, when he had found his voice again.

“Because you deserve it!” This time, Pearl did lose her footing, but it was Larry who leaned forward from his sitting position on the couch and swung an arm around her from behind. “I mean… I mean… you and Mr. Edgeworth say you’re all l-lovey-dovey, but I never actually see you doing anything!” From the frustration in her voice, Phoenix had the distinct feeling that this outburst was a long time coming, and he felt vaguely scandalized at the idea of being criticized for not being soppy enough in public with Edgeworth for a mildly delusional young girl’s liking.

“Besides,” Pearl went on, “You can help Mr. Larry on his date, like a good friend should.”

“What,” said Phoenix, flabbergasted, “You mean like give him pointers?”

“Well, Nick is a more monogamous sort of guy than me,” Larry said. Pearl nodded furiously. “So you know, better at catchin’ em and holdin’ em… I mean, come on, landing a babe like Iris and then a stiff-ass like Edgey? You’ve got skills, dude. Mad skills.”

This time, Phoenix eyed Maya. All right. Was this your idea?

Maya held her hands up, shaking her head, though the grin was still plastered across her face. “No way,” she said. “I had no part in this. Pearly must have made the call after I went to sleep. But,” she said, resting her palm against her chin and looking thoughtful, “She might have a point. About you and Mr. Edgeworth, anyway.”

Phoenix spluttered. “Edgeworth and I--”

“There we go! It sounds like a plan to me!” Larry said, with a lopsided grin, standing with his arm still thrown around Pearl. ‘I’ll take whatever I can get’ was written all over his face. “Uh, if Iris’s cool with it, of course,” he added. “But you are, right?”

“I--” Iris glanced at Phoenix. “Um… I suppose so--” at the same time Phoenix said, “No.”

“She said yes!” Larry cut in, triumphant, and Iris gave him a weak smile. “That was a yes, right!?”

Phoenix shook his head frantically at her over Larry’s shoulder, but neither Iris or her younger sister seemed to notice. In the back of his head, he realized, grimly, that he really ought to be used to being completely overruled by the Feys. Larry cheered again.

I have to do something.

“Larry, this isn’t serious. You‘re not dating Iris.” Phoenix spoke through grit teeth. “This is a crazy plan Pearl made to boost your self-esteem, because she felt bad for you…” He felt a sudden burst of irritation at his childhood friend for encouraging her last night.

“Aw, Nick, don’t tell me you’re jealous?” Larry jabbed his elbow into Phoenix’s ribs playfully. “Does it rile you up to see someone else courting your old ex? Huh?”

Phoenix commended himself silently for his valiant show of self-restraint in opting not to strangle him.

“Aw, no worries,” said Larry. “I’ll just think of it as a training session. Or somethin’. And a free meal. You’re paying when we go out, right?” Before Phoenix could answer, freshly indignant, he added, as an afterthought, “Unless she reconsiders. About that not-serious thing, I mean.”

Iris gazed with pointed interest at the stack of case files on Phoenix’s desk. Phoenix looked to her, and then to Larry, still lost in his fantasies of what he could only guess was a star-studded wedding with her, and made his decision, feeling thoroughly resigned.

“All right,” he sighed. “I’ll call Edgeworth.”



“And you went along with it?” Edgeworth asked, incredulous. Even over the phone, Phoenix could hear the distinct sound of ceramic falling against polished wood, and assumed he had been the cause of yet another coffee spill in Edgeworth’s office.

“It’s not like I want to,” Phoenix began, and Edgeworth said, “That makes two of us--”

“But,” Phoenix continued, speaking over him, “What else am I supposed to do? Let Iris go by herself? There‘s no telling what Larry would put her through. I can‘t just throw her to the wolves--wolf--metaphorical wolf--you know what I mean--like that.”

Edgeworth was silent for a long moment.

“Edgeworth?”

“It’s not as though I have a choice, is it?” the prosecutor asked abruptly, annoyed. The words were pointed and rapid. “Let’s just get this embarrassment over with as soon as possible.”

Relief and gratitude flooded him, and he leaned against the wall. “Thanks.”

Another pause, shorter this time, then: “I’m going back to work.”

“All right. I’ll see you later.”

Edgeworth hung up.



When Edgeworth walked in the door, it was with the air of a doomed man making his way to his own execution. He took a glance through to the scene--Iris looking dazed and fiddling with a lock of her own hair, Pearl adjusting Larry’s makeshift bow tie, and Maya still laughing fit to burst--and seemed to seriously consider simply turning and walking right back out.

Phoenix grabbed his wrist. If he had to suffer through this, so did Edgeworth.

Pearl jumped to attention, leaving Larry’s tie half-undone, and grabbed the prosecutor’s other hand, dragging him in, flanked on both sides. Edgeworth ignored Larry entirely as they passed, but he managed a curt nod in greeting to Iris, who returned it with a weak smile.

“Okay, everyone’s here,” Pearl announced, in delighted sing-song. “Let’s go!”

Phoenix stopped abruptly, shaking his head. Edgeworth stopped with him, and Pearl, still holding onto him, nearly tripped.

“Pearls,” Phoenix said. “You’re staying here with Maya.”

Pearl whipped around so fast, hands covering her mouth in shock, that the butterfly knot of her hair nearly whirled past her head to slap her in the face. “What? But, but, Mr, Nick, that’s not fair!”

“And it’s not a date, Pearls, if someone other than the ones dating are tagging along.” Despite her landing him in this insanity, he gave her an affectionate pat on the head. “You’ll get the full report when we get back. One way or another,” he added dryly, looking towards Larry.

Larry took Iris’s arm in his. Pearl’s tie fell off his collar entirely, landing in a rather sad heap on the floor, but if he noticed, he didn’t seem to mind. His wide grin sparkled--obnoxiously-- into all four corners of the room. Iris twined and untwined her fingers quietly.

“All right,” said Phoenix. “Let’s go.” He gestured at Edgeworth, motioning towards the open door. The prosecutor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and let his briefcase fall against the wall. The thud it made had, in Phoenix’s estimation, a distinctly despairing quality about it.

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re doing it wrong, Mr. Nick!” Pearl exclaimed, stamping her foot. “You have to do like Mr. Butz is doing!”

I might, if he wasn’t looking at me like he’d take the arm off if I tried.

Still, Phoenix shrugged, and curled his fingers around Edgeworth’s wrist in what he hoped was a satisfactory compromise--at least until they were out the door. Edgeworth stared down at their joined hands in something unpleasantly close to resignation. Reminding himself that they faster they went about this, the faster it would be over and the entire experience mentally shelved to a place where he would never have to think about it again, Phoenix made his way out the door, Larry and Iris close at his heels.

On the doorstep, he thought for a moment, then called back over his shoulder: “And Maya, no following us around this time.”

Maya’s indignant reply barely made it out of the door before Phoenix closed it behind them.

“Geez! You’re no fun at all, Nick!”


They walked. Phoenix could think of no other way to put it. Walking was what they did.

Larry and Iris were some distance ahead, Larry chattering excitedly about his long history with girls and how Iris so drastically differed from all of those who had broken his heart. Iris nodded, smiled, and, in Phoenix’s estimation, seemed to be careful to give him as little encouragement down that particular line of thought as possible. Every few paces she hesitated to check over her shoulder, as though half-expecting Phoenix and Edgeworth to have cut and run at the first opportunity.

Edgeworth lingered in silence at Phoenix’s side, hands shoved in his jacket, glaring at the pavement below him. There was no way for Phoenix to tell for certain, of course, but, inwardly cringing, he couldn’t help but hope that he was masking his own deep distaste at the situation somewhat better than how Edgeworth was managing.

They hadn’t made any concrete plans; the only thing on Phoenix’s mind as they had left the apartment was to get out of the vicinity of any further machinations devised by the Fey collective. His automatic assumption had been dinner--but a quick check to his wallet had informed him that there was no way he would be able to afford treating four people, unless they stuck with appetizers and water.

Not that he minded. Come to think of it, a simple walk around the park was probably the optimal choice as far as minimalizing potential trauma on the part of all parties involved in this excursion.

His brief, flickering hope was dashed, though, when he nearly collided against Iris’s back, who had collided with Larry’s, who had stopped in front of what was immediately apparent as a dining establishment.

“Ice cream!” Larry said. “Man, who else feels up for ice cream right now? I say our lady of honor here ought to be treated to something nearly as sweet as she is, right guys?” He cast a very exaggerated wink in Nick’s direction as Iris gave a rather strained sort of giggle.

Phoenix glanced upwards, actually situating himself. He knew this place, come to think of it--it was a local parlor that he’d been to before with the girls. And while it still wasn’t cheap by any means, especially in the company of a girl who claimed to have a separate stomach for sweets, it was a decent place to go.

In essence, on a scale of mostly painless to budget disaster, it leaned more towards the former.

“Ice cream sounds pretty good to me, actually.” Larry exclaimed my man! and gave him a thumbs-up. Phoenix turned to the others. “Edgeworth?”

The prosecutor shrugged indifferently, and proceeded to check his watch.

Gee, thanks for the support, Miles.

“Iris?”

He blinked when he saw that she had also been occupied in watching Edgeworth--gauging his less-than-enthusiastic reaction as well. “All right,” she said, after a moment. “It looks like a nice place.”

The inside of the parlor was cleaner than Phoenix remembered. It looked like they had spruced the place up a little. The girl at the register greeted them with the unnaturally cheerful smile unique to customer service, and Larry was naturally the first to trot up, contemplate the options posted on the wall above her head, and let his gaze fall to an area somewhat below her face as he made his order.

“Lessee, I’ll take a triple banana sundae with whipped cream…” He glanced backwards. “Yo, Iris? You’re getting something, right?”

She hesitated, looking from the menu, to Larry, to Phoenix fishing once again through his wallet.

“Are you paying, Phoenix?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he said evenly. “I’m used to it.”

She deliberated again, and then, with an apology in her eyes, quietly asked for a single scoop of vanilla. Phoenix smiled in spite of himself.

“You get something too, Nick,” Larry said, banging his palm against Phoenix’s back. “It’s supposed to be a double date, remember?”

“How could I forget?” he mumbled.

Actually, going by Edgeworth’s demeanor, it’s pretty easy to forget. Not that Phoenix could blame him, but nonetheless…

Phoenix shook his head, fished out another five dollar bill, and ordered a root beer float for himself. Larry grabbed Iris’s hand, pulling her to his side--Iris yelped and something in Phoenix clenched tightly in irritation--and grabbed a table for four.

Edgeworth only asked for a glass of water, and sat across from Phoenix, though the occasional squeak of metal against tile told Phoenix that he was making a valiant attempt to subtly distance himself from the scene as much as possible. His face remained a rather dour mask.

Larry smacked his lips when their order arrived, and wasted no time digging in.

“Mmm! Delicious!” He’s going to give himself brain freeze, Phoenix thought, watching him stuff his face without abandon. “How’s yours, Nick? Good?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” Larry grinned, and turned to his ‘date’ next. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the small scoop before her.

“What about you, Iris?” he asked, skeptically. “You enjoying your, uh, vanilla?”

“It’s very good,” she said, and seemed to mean it. Larry scoffed.

“If by good you mean boring, you can pick up plain vanilla at any old grocery store. Here, I’ll let you try mine.” His voice reflected that of a man bestowing a gift of diamonds to his beloved.

“Th-thank you very much,” Iris replied, managing to sound only slightly intimidated. Phoenix wondered, not for the first time that night, if Iris was actually superhuman with her apparently infinite well of patience.

He watched Iris pick at the frozen banana for a moment. His gaze slid back to Edgeworth, who had barely touched his water. Against his better judgment, he raised his spoon, dripping with ice cream.

“Edgeworth,” he said, tentative. “Do you want…?”

“No.”

Phoenix slid the offering into his own mouth. Right then.

Several minutes passed. They ate wordlessly, and Phoenix caught Edgeworth checking his watch several more times as the evening stretched on. Eventually, Larry dropped his spoon into his empty glass with a heavy clink.

“Aw, man,” he said, leaning back. “That’s enough awkward silence to last me for about the next twenty years.”

“I’m sorry,” Iris said. It was almost automatic to hear by now.

Larry tapped his spoon against his glass, as though he were ringing a bell for a school announcement. “So we remember what we’re here for, right guys?”

“Vaguely,” Phoenix muttered.

“Come on, Nick, where are your pointers?” Larry jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow, and Phoenix had to grip the table to keep himself from falling out of his seat. “What‘d you do to win over this gorgeous girl sitting before us? You made it last a whole year, too!”

“Six months,” Phoenix corrected, under his breath. His face was growing uncomfortably hot. “And I couldn’t tell you.”

“Man, you’re no help at all.” Larry sighed. “Fine then. Iris, what did Phoenix do when you guys met that caught your eye?”

Iris looked stricken, briefly.

“Well, I…” she shifted uncomfortable in her seat, staring into the bottom of her glass. It was clear that she wished she hadn’t eaten so quickly, if only so that she had something to distract herself with now. “It wasn’t really…”

Phoenix gave a sympathetic wince. Her twin sister tried to used me to cover up her crimes and eventually tried to murder me, actually. Larry, you idiot…

“Pleeeease?” he was still pleading. “I’m not asking for any juicy details or anything! But, c’mon, Nick, we’ve been friends for like forever, and come to think of it I barely heard about your college tryst, so come on, give me something. What‘d you guys do?”

“Well, we… went on walks,” Iris said, biting her lip. Her eyes kept darting to Phoenix, as though afraid--or hopeful?--that he would cut her off at any second.

“Walks,” Larry repeated, reflective. “I’ve been on those. Long walks on the beach, in Honolulu…”

“Er,” Iris said. “Well, Feenie and I never walked places quite so extravagant… just… around campus.”

It took a moment for Phoenix to register the slip back into Feenie.

“We went to a few movies.” Iris stared down into her hands, as though she were reading from a list. “We had tea together. We helped each other study…”

“Aw, man.” Larry said. “No offense to you guys, but that’s, like, high school stuff, man, that’s Courtship 101 standards you adhered to there. Booooring.” Iris continued to direct her gaze downward, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

“Maybe your problem,” Phoenix said, and he heard a slight edge in his own voice, “is that you’re too exciting.”

“I am a man of passion,” Larry admitted, with a dramatic sigh. “It’s a heavy burden to bear.”

“That’s all I can think of,” Iris said. “Honestly. I made him a few things, but we… we just enjoyed each other’s company. While we could.”

Larry pondered over this. “Man. I guess Nick’s just got something I lack,” he lamented, casting a forlorn look at his childhood friend. “Not all of us can be blessed with such animal magnetism.”

“I’m sorry,” said Iris. “I really don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Okay... so, we‘ve established you were boring.” Larry pointed his spoon at her again, as though he were an interviewer with a microphone. “What would you say was the thing he did to really win you over?”

Iris blinked. Her hand rose to her chest, obscuring the magatama hung around her neck. “To… win me over?”

“Sure. You fell for him pretty hard, right?” She flushed. Phoenix, once again, seriously considered calling this whole fiasco off.

“Well, I…”

“Come on, I knew Nick back then.” Larry grinned. “He wasn’t really a smooth player, landing all the girls and the, uh, old friends in frilly scarves.”

Phoenix thought he saw a murderous glint, briefly, from Edgeworth’s direction.

“I guess… he was very kind,” Iris answered, slowly. “But…” She seemed to be deep in consideration. Her fingers drummed the edge of the table.

“Flowers? Candies? Sonnets?”

“I think…” Iris made another glance over her shoulder, but it wasn’t at Phoenix. She spoke quietly.

“I think it was his letters.”

The air in the room abruptly became heavier. Edgeworth’s shoulders stiffened. The grip on his glass of water was dangerously tight.

Phoenix stared in disbelief. It was true that he had written many letters while in college; more than he could remember, staying up several late nights to adjust them or draft them or destroy them in brief fits of frustrated despair. But none of them had been addressed to Iris.

But Larry, as usual, was apparently oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere that came with Iris’s admission.

“Nick wrote love letters?”

“Well, it…” She seemed to regret saying anything now. “It was a little more complicated than that.”

“Iris,” Phoenix said, unable to stop himself. His hand was halfway to her arm. Edgeworth raised his head. Iris caught his eye.

“Yes,” she said, quickly, diverting the subject. “The important thing is… his letters were beautiful. They really were.” Her voice grew soft, dreamlike, and for a moment, Phoenix could see her once again in her white dress and parasol, gleaming in the autumn sun. “He put so much heart into them.”

“Letters, huh? I’ve written ‘em, of course. Who hasn’t? Nothing like finding a soppy love letter waiting for you, gushing all about your finer attributes..” Larry chewed on the end of his spoon, looking thoughtful. “Come to think of it, girls have seemed to like ‘em. I mean, I didn’t really notice if they liked them more than the roses, or the jewelry, or the pillow talk, but--”

“We get the picture,” Phoenix interrupted.

“So you’d say I ought to brush up on my letter-writing technique?”

“I didn’t quite…” Iris started, and looked pained. “It’s hard for me to say…”

“I mean, but, at the very least…” He crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side in thought. “If I wanted to land a girl like you for real…”

“I… suppose,” Iris said, hastily, as though trying to overwrite the second half of his sentence. “I mean, I… I can’t speak for anyone else, but like I said, I did like--”

“So,” Larry cut in, clearly eager to move on, “What kind of things did he write?”

This time, Phoenix‘s hand did seize Iris‘s arm, convulsively. But she didn‘t need to meet his eyes to speak for him this time. “I can’t really say.”

“Just a little? Throw me a bone?” Larry pouted. “You can’t just tease me like that and then refuse to get to the really good stuff. I shared my ice cream with you…”

Phoenix could feel acute nausea building with him. It increased threefold when he saw Iris’s expression flicker, and then, unmistakably, cave.

“Dear--” she hesitated, seemed to find the simple ’dear’ satisfactory, then plunged on. “Winter’s hit the campus pretty hard. I hope you’re a little better off…”

Phoenix nearly choked. Her recitation perfectly matched with his own memory of that letter--that was in mid-December--she had them memorized? After six years?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Edgeworth watching them with something like intent for the first time. His eyes were narrowed. He can’t be comfortable with this either.

Phoenix turned to him fully, intending to apologize on Iris’s behalf, but stopped.

Edgeworth was staring past him. His lips were moving, forming silent words.

When we were kids, you always insisted on wearing those funny suits, no matter how freezing it was. You remember, right?

Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat. His heart did a strange jump in his chest, and he found himself suddenly paralyzed.

“That won you over?” Larry‘s voice broke through, somewhat incredulous. Phoenix blinked, forcefully coming out of a trance. He looked back, and Edgeworth had gone back to glaring into the surrounding linoleum. I must have imagined it…

“I don’t get it, I really don’t. But, hey, if it works…” he chewed his lower lip, then sprang up, attracting several stares and knocking everyone’s glasses over. “Then I say Nick’s gonna coach me!”

Oh my god. “Larry--” Phoenix started. Larry rounded on him.

“Come on, you’re like my lifesaver here. You’ve obviously got some kind of tap into a channel of letter-writing genius if a girl like Iris is still going on about it.”

He was in the middle of mentally putting together a firm no when he nearly jumped as he felt a brush of warmth over the top of his hand. Iris was smiling, and for the first time since they had left Phoenix’s apartment, sincerity shone through the soft creases of her eyes.

It seemed that his life was destined to be a long series of giving in to others’ ridiculous requests, but at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to be terribly upset about it.

“All right, all right.”

He remembered what Edgeworth had said before giving in to this entire fiasco.

“Let’s just get this over with.”



They relocated to Larry’s apartment. As soon as the decision had been made, Phoenix waited for Edgeworth to make some sort of excuse to bow out of the remainder of the session. He had been mildly astonished when the prosecutor continued to follow in silence, only giving the briefest of pauses as having to wade his way through trash seconds upon entering.

Iris flitted from side to side, hands folding and unfolding in front of her. Eventually, she seemed to decide that some refreshments would help deflate the tension, and picked her way delicately through the room’s mess and made her way into what was, as far as Phoenix could tell through all of the scum, the kitchen area. He felt Edgeworth’s stare, unusually intense, boring a hole into his back. He tried to ignore it. I must have imagined it.

Larry sat hunched over his paper--in actuality, it was a rather crumpled napkin--and peered up at Phoenix, awaiting the sage advice that was entirely absent from Phoenix’s head at the moment.

“I have no idea what to tell you,” Phoenix admitted, finally.

The truth was, he owed much of the letters to Iris’s help--but he couldn’t tell Larry that, if he wanted to avoid a barrage of extremely uncomfortable questions. Something tightened in his throat at the memory--it was still too close, too personal, to hear Larry express the comical astonishment he knew would come if he admitted the real purpose behind his college letters.

“How’d you start?”

Start… how did I start?

“Traditionally,” Phoenix sighed, “I started out with ‘dear whoever’.”

Larry’s tongue poked out of the side of his mouth as he bent over the napkin, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Dear who-ever, comma,” he spelled out. Phoenix peered over his shoulder.

“Larry? Don’t actually write ‘whoever’ when you‘re doing this for real.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Larry waved him off, rolling his eyes. “I know that much.”

Sometimes, I’m not so sure about that, but okay…

“All right, what about after that?”

He opened his mouth, but there was nothing. His mind was a complete, abysmal blank. “Well… what do you want to say?”

“Dude, Nick, this is a love letter, right?” Larry gave him a scrutinizing kind of look. “You know, it’s supposed to say lovey stuff. Like, ‘my life would be hollowness without you‘, or, ‘ only you are the shining light within the bleak blackness of my heart’, that kind of thing.”

Who’s coaching who, here? But he imagined, briefly, passing those kinds of lines onto Edgeworth and had to suppress a grin at his projected expression. He was mildly pleased when he looked up and saw that it had been a fairly accurate projection of the real Edgeworth, who, as far as he could tell, was thinking of roughly the same concept.

“Sounds like you’re set already to me, Larry.”

“But I’m not, man. I thought we went over this already. Clearly you’ve got somethin’ I don’t when it comes to this field. So, okay.” Larry leaned back, with an infuriating, condescending sort of patience. “Forget what I just said. What do YOU do when you sit down to write one of these?”

I couldn’t tell you, seeing as I’ve never written any of them!

“I… tried to make them casual, I guess,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. There still seemed to be something perverse about tapping into these memories for the sake of smoothing out Larry’s turbulent love life. “At first, I have a feeling I came on too strongly.”

He winced as soon as the words came out. I can’t believe I actually said that. He thought he saw Edgeworth roll his eyes.

“Casual?” Larry’s nose wrinkled in puzzlement. “That’s, like, the total opposite of the point of a love letter, though. Isn‘t it?”

“Couldn’t tell you. But that’s what I did. I mean, you heard what Iris said.”

They weren’t love letters, after all. Most of them amounted to ‘call me back’… what was she thinking?

Larry mulled over this. Iris chose this moment to carry in a pitcher of water for everyone, and as she set about filling glasses, he seemed to remember on whose recommendation this lesson had come in the first place.

“All right,” he said, brandishing his pencil with a dramatic flourish. “Casual it is.”

He scribbled for a moment, then held up the napkin for Phoenix to read.



“Er,” Phoenix concluded.

“No go?” Larry asked. “You said casual!”

“W-well,” Phoenix said, “I mean…”

His mind drifted back to his own struggles, in an overcrowded campus cafeteria, to draft snatches of lines that would have a chance of finally catching Edgeworth’s attention. It had been years ago.

“You don’t want to make the parts about her casual,” Phoenix said, struggling through every word and feeling increasingly like an idiot by the second. “You want whoever to think you’re serious about wanting to see them again--go out with them. Like you said, that’s the point.”

“Uh huh...” Larry sounded doubtful.

Edgeworth gazed out the window, but at least he was no longer scowling, though Phoenix was at a loss as to measure out how a walk through the park conjured the darkest grimace imaginable while being plunged headlong into the train wreck that was Larry’s dwelling didn’t. He seemed thoroughly occupied by his own thoughts.

“All right,” Larry announced. “I’m gonna give it another shot and see what you guys think.”

He set about working, pencil moving furiously. Phoenix waited, listening to the sound of the napkin cloth tearing with the force of his enthusiasm. Iris offered Edgeworth a glass of water; he declined with a wave of his hand.

“Done,” Larry said. He held up the napkin proudly once again. Phoenix took it from him--the fact that Larry had been working on it for barely two minutes probably wasn‘t a good sign. A glance told him his suspicions were mostly correct--it amounted to three lines, and several cartoonish doodles along the sides.

“Larry,” Phoenix started.

“Hey, it’s not for real, right? Those are, like, a reflection of my thought process.”

A drunken elephant in a party hat reflects… you know what, never mind. He sighed, mentally putting aside the drawings--there was no point in arguing about it--and tried to focus exclusively on the words.

“Dear whoever, wish you were here. My love for you is like a boat,” he read. “Overflowing with love.” Phoenix looked up, brow furrowed. “…is this, uh, supposed to be casual?”

“Originally,” Larry said, defensively, “it was a line cruiser of love.”

Phoenix looked at him without expression.

“I’m trying, okay!?”

Phoenix was quiet for a second. He looked back down at the napkin. The texture of it, the black pen strokes against it, with lines struck out and small tears at the ends of each letter, were familiar to his hands. His garbage can at the college had been full of them.

“Larry, you’re going about this all wrong.”

“Aw, man…” His friend tore at the ends of his own hair. “This is frustration incarnate.”

“I know. I know.” He paused. “But you know, that’s kind of the idea. It’s not easy to be able to… to reach someone. Not when it’s that important.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s say there’s--” he struggled, briefly, trying to pinpoint the words. “Let’s say there’s someone I care about, who I want to write to. Theoretically.”

“Yeah--”

“What do I want to say to this person? I mean, what do I really want to say? It’s not about… it’s not so much about trying to impress them, or making up flowery words or turns of phrases. You have to think about what’s most important. To reach that person, no matter what. Even if it takes years.”

“Uh, personally, Nick, I’m kind of hoping it doesn’t take that long--” But Phoenix cut him off.

“So I’m sitting down, starting this letter,” he said. “There’s… there’s so much I want to say, right? But it comes down to one thing--wanting to see that person. Wanting to make sure they‘re okay. And what you need to do is let them know that--let them know you‘re still there, that you know they need something. It‘s been too long. Maybe they‘ve forgotten--but you haven‘t.”

He closed his eyes, briefly. He was sitting in the pristine cafeteria, surrounding by noise on all sides, a pen clutched in his right hand. An old newspaper article about the Demon Prosecutor, faded and nearly coming apart with use, was laying on the table next to his paper. He was checking his mail every day, hoping against hope that something other than bills and advertisements would be waiting for him--he if kept it up, then eventually… surely...

If I can’t get through to him by phone or email, then…

“I… guess,” said Larry, frowning. Phoenix grimaced and shook his head, pulling himself back into the apartment. “So… what do you write to do that, man?”

That was a good question. What did I write to make Edgeworth…

“I don’t know,” Phoenix said, suddenly. His chest felt oddly hollow. “I have no idea.”

After all, Edgeworth had never actually answered any of those letters. He hadn’t gotten any response back until Edgeworth had been forced, three years later, in court. They had reunited--but it hadn’t been his desperation, manifested onto notebook paper and an endless procession of stamps, that had done it. He was in no position to coach anyone on what it meant to write a decent letter.

Larry made a sound that reeked of disappointment. “I don’t get it, Nick. I gotta say, you’re not explainin’ this very clearly.”

“The words don’t matter.”

Phoenix looked up. So did Larry. Iris’s head turned. All three were at a loss, initially, to see which of them had spoken--and then in unison, they swiveled onto the form of Edgeworth, whose arms were still crossed in the corner of the room, face half shadowed.

“Uh, sorry, Edgey,” Larry said, sounding flabbergasted. “What was that?”

“The words don’t matter,” he repeated. “As Wright just told you.”

“He did?” Larry asked, bewildered. Edgeworth deftly ignored him.

“If you’re able to convey your sincerity, one way or another…” Edgeworth trailed off, and something like a flush passed over his face, so quickly that Phoenix might have imagined it. “You’ll be answered.” He paused. “Even if it takes longer than you would hope. And not necessarily... in the way you would expect.”

Phoenix stared. Edgeworth’s eyes flickered over the top of Larry’s head to meet his, briefly.

“Wow, Edgey,” said Larry, in mild awe. “That was profound. For you, I mean.”

The prosecutor’s shrugged, but seemed to stand by his words, still irritably avoiding eye contact.

Larry chewed on the end of his eraser, considering the advice. Finally, a light bulb seemed to ignite within him, and he hunched over his paper once again, scribbling at the bottom.



Iris stifled a laugh. She raised her eyes to Edgeworth’s, and then to Phoenix’s--and Phoenix was surprised to hear himself start laughing, genuinely, along with her.

“What’s so funny?” Larry asked.

“Nothing,” Phoenix said, still chuckling. “It’s nothing. Really.”

Larry shot a suspicious look at the three of them in turn, but seemed to let it go.

“You know…” Iris finally managed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, still smiling. “Those doodles are nice. I think that they’re really quite charming.”

“You think?”

“To be honest,” she said, and there was a sudden strength in her voice that had been absent for the entirety of the day preceding it, “I think those are probably more charming than any letter you could write. Not that your letters are bad,” she added, hastily. “It’s just that--”

“Yeah,” Phoenix said, catching on. “We’ve all got different strengths, and… and all that. I could never win anyone over with my drawings, but you’re an artist, right? Your strength is in… uh… imagery. Stuff like that.”

“Huh,” Larry answered. “You really think?” He scratched his chin with his hand, musing over his portrait of the drunken elephant. All at once, an idea seemed to strike him.

“Maybe I could do like--like a hybrid, like a comic book expressing my love! Ya think?”

“I think,” Edgeworth remarked, dryly. But Larry was caught up in his own fervor by now, and Edgeworth finished his intended statement with another roll of the eyes.

“Dude, that is an awesome idea. I could write myself as, like, a superhero, and whoever would be the damsel in distress, and she’d think I was all gallant and imaginative and stuff! This is perfect!” He pumped a fist into the air.

“Perfect is one word for it,” Phoenix granted.

“Thanks, guys! I think I have it!” Larry crumpled up the napkin and tossed it over his shoulder in one motion, wasting no time in pulling out the next. “Man, you’re all the best! Seriously!”

“We try,” Phoenix allowed, and found himself joining Iris in quiet laughter again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Edgeworth was smiling.



Until a few months ago, Phoenix had never actually set foot in an airport before--he’d never needed to. Never mind the fact that he couldn’t have afforded it even if he did. Edgeworth’s fingers shifted awkwardly around the grip of his briefcase, facing Phoenix, back turned to the security line.

“How long this time?” Phoenix was fairly sure he had asked before, but no matter how many times he was answered, it never seemed concrete until this moment of actual parting.

“A month or so,” Edgeworth supplied. Phoenix grimaced, and Edgeworth hesitated only for a moment before letting his gloved hand press briefly against Phoenix’s shoulder in attempted reassurance.

“It’s not that long,” he said, somewhat lamely.

“I guess. It’s not another year, anyway.” Phoenix tried not to sound too bitter, but from Edgeworth’s raised eyebrow, supposed he wasn’t particularly successful.

Edgeworth‘s eyes moved to his watch, changing the subject. “Well, then.”

“I’ll call,” Phoenix volunteered. Edgeworth made a small sound of affirmation, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. It was always like this--awkward, not able to meet each others’ eyes until the last second. He seemed to be thinking about something.

“Wright,” Edgeworth said, finally.

“Yeah?”

Edgeworth looked torn between amusement and irritation for a second, before he seemed to settle on the former, shaking his head. “Write,” he said again.

“Huh?”

Edgeworth sighed, unwilling to repeat himself for a third time.

Phoenix stared. The request, and all of its implications, sank in all at once. Edgeworth shook his head in a gesture that clearly said hopeless--but a soft smile was still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Phoenix swallowed. His throat was suddenly very dry. “I will.”

Edgeworth squeezed his hand, briefly, before nodding sharply at him - expression a mask once more - and he turned, disappearing through the lines of security.

It was an odd feeling that Phoenix wrestled with, as he now stood alone. It was something heavy pressing against his throat--but his stomach felt strangely light, and his vision seemed unnaturally bright and blurry around him. He rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes, briefly--it was a little better after that.

When he got back, he decided, the first thing he ought to do was thank Larry.

---

Last edited by Raelle on Sun Sep 16, 2007 7:18 am, edited 5 times in total.

Goddamn, whoever wrote this liked to write way too much for their own good.

O wate

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Somewhat strange, and yet filled with both heartfelt moments and random funny. I give it my Thumbs Up of Approval*.




*Registered Trademark of DieSeLcorp, all rights reserved.

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I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH. LONGER REVIEW FORTHCOMING.

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You know, given I don't personally care for the yaoi pairings in the fandom, I honestly can't think of what possessed me to even click the link. I blame boredom at work, personally.

Yet despite my personal pairing preferences, I found that I very much enjoyed this fic. The pairings and the overwhelming awkwardness of the situation are very deftly handled in a way that I found very believeable. It was sweet without being overly sappy, funny without being corny, and all the characters seemed to be very much in character, especially Edgeworth.

And "concentrated laser beams of guilt" are made of pure win and awesome. Way to go Pearly!

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Though I'm not the authors, I did want to mention how happy I was to hear someone that isn't a BL fan say that. I know how hard Funk and Raelle try to keep everyone in character in their fics. After all, these characters don't exist in a bubble. The GS series has such a wonderful cast that it's a pity not to use them as much as possible.

Though I know you don't like slash, if you happen to get deathly bored at work again, I would recommend checking out Funk's "Follow the Fool" (as anyone will attest, it's really a classic and very much about Fran and Adrian struggling to find their way post-GS2 more than a simple F/A) and Raelle's "The Realization of Perfection" (really, that one is so very, very light I hesistate to call it slash--it's more of a beautifully written Franziska-centered gen).

Now, on with my review.

Of course you know that I can't be unbiased about this. It was a gift to me, and despite all protests to the contrary, it's amazing and much more than I deserve. I love the fact that you guys really did something difficult in having so much of the main cast there, and yet you juggled them so perfectly. Larry's grand entrance is so him and never fails to make me laugh. And all of their individual reactions are perfect too--especially Pearl. Another nice little touch I liked was Edgeworth and Phoenix doing the dishes together; that's so charmingly sweet and domestic in a comfortable, understated way that it just makes me smile. And the way they so naturally played off one another when Pearl confronted the two of them. Even though Edgeworth said he was leaving it to Phoenix, he still swooped in to "rescue" him when things got tough.

And you worked in my darling Ayame! She was just so beautiful and wonderful in this, it reminds me of what I loved so much about her in the game. The little touches...Pearl grabbing her hands, her struggling so hard to be polite and nice even after Larry delivers that punch in the gut about her sister. The way, for a split second when she's talking about the letters with such warmth and tenderness, Phoenix sees her as she was all those years ago. And Phoenix's reactions to her! He'll never stop being protective of her, or wanting to show her his best side. I really just...I loved the part where he freaked out about showing up to the door half asleep in Edgeworth's bathrobe; the way he wanted to step forward when Larry mentioned her sister; telling Edgeworth he couldn't just leave her alone with Larry. That's just exactly how I picture their future relationship. They're not in a relationship any more, but they still love one another so much. And they always will.

And the P/E! As I told Raelle, I flipped out when it came to Edgeworth lightly touching Phoenix's hair before heading out to work. To me, that speaks so much more than a kiss--it's just so private and personal, and a rare moment of Edgeworth being utterly open. And Phoenix takes it for granted. Because it's a regular thing to him; just a part of his normal day. Edgeworth reciting the next lines of the letter silently--it means so much to all three of them that they remember it like it was yesterday. Despite any awkwardness--and Phoenix being clueless as to exactly why Edgeworth is so dour and morose throughout the date--these two really do understand and love one another. Even though Phoenix's college letters weren't love letters, they were still incredibly personal and important...the part at the end, when Edgeworth finally gives him a response--a response Phoenix didn't even consciously know he was still waiting for--pretty much sums up what I love about the relationship and both those characters. The way they reach out to one another, respond so uniquely to one another.

It was a beautiful gift, because it's how I see and love everyone in it. I love all of it so much. It makes me laugh out loud, it makes me smile, and every time I get to the end, I read that second to last line over and over again and just imagine Phoenix watching as Edgeworth walks away before reaching up to wipe his eyes. That something so simple can have such a profound effect.

Thank you two so much.

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STFU NO




<3

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And this made my day. And I'm still grinning like a dork.

Not only were they both in character, but I also like how the relationship was represented... It's not one that's entirely in the open and not always a fluffy one, but in it's own special way.. It's quite close.

The ending made me very close to squeeing. =P

Especially nice to hear that even a non slash fan can like this story... You guys are doing something right.

Hm. Looking forward to more of your goods someday. You should give stuff to Musouka more often. ;D

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Holy crap, that was amazing. :D

Like musouka and Mori said, the way their relationship was represented wasn't completely open or an overdose of fluff, but it was shown in a way that made them seem close, and the relationship seem personal. Miles remembering the lines from Phoenix's letter perfectly, and the ending were some of the parts that showed it.

And if it was so good that someone not normally one to like slash enjoyed it, this fic definitely deserves some praise. :D

[Which is why I'm doing as such. :P]

Made my da- well, my afternoon, and made me smile. [Especially the ending.] :D

Fantastic job; looking forward to more of your stuff in the future~

Last edited by .Be[lie]ver. on Wed Aug 01, 2007 11:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I think you'd have to twist Funk's arm pretty hard to get him to do more overt P/E--love you, dear--but if you liked this, then I would recommend Raelle's Allowances, which is also a very, very, very good, low-key P/E fic. (Even if Edgeworth only shows up near the end.)

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In a similar vein, I love the portrayal of (and drew inspiration from) musouka's own very restrained, realistic take on the P/E relationship in her fics--One of These Things is Not Like The Others, and her current, absolutely lovely WIP, Struggling Against Gravity. Anyone who's everyone should check them out.

And thanks to everyone for all the kind words! It's been said before, but it really is very heartening to see even a nonslash fan able to enjoy the story. Even if it was ridiculously rushed. :P

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GAY LAWYERS ARE GAY.


Yes, read all those stories, because they're absolutely amazing and made of win and love and awesome and big gay lawyers being dorky and tsundere, respectively.

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HAY IZ THIS SUM CIRCLE-JERKING WE'RE ENGAGING IN? HAET YUO BOTH.

Well, part of it is that we all discuss and pull apart and analyze together, so our views tend to be pretty uniform. If you like something written by me, chances are you'll like Funk and Raelle's stuff too--and vice-versa, I honestly hope.

I'm proud to read their works and have them as friends. There are a lot of good PW fics out there--when you're talking about P/E Croik's "One of Every Color" always deserves a mention--not just ours...though Funk has some pretty awesome ideas coming down the pike, as does Raelle. Hahaha, I love you two so much. XD

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I seriously love how you guys portray Phoenix and Edgeworth's relationship. It's not overly intimate, yet it's just how it's supposed to be. This little fic is no exception~ Also, I loved how Larry is all goofy and somewhat rude to Ayame, yet she's still responds to him nicely. Pearly here was rather adorable and caring along with Maya's love for the Steel Samurai.


Dude, by the way, CFTF, Musouka, and Raelle-- are you guys like close friends or something? >> I get that vibe from you three. (Not only because the fact you three are excellent writers-- *brick'd*)

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Hehe. That's understandable; I actually meant I was looking forward to any of Funk's new fanfics in teh future. XP [After all, Funk was the one that made me love FranziskaxAdrian. :D]

Thanks for the fic, by teh way. :3

We hang out online nearly every night and talk obsessively about Phoenix Wright, among other things. We're also one another's betas. Well, except in this case, since it was a present for me, but I usually read all of their stuff and vice versa. They let me hang out with the cool kids.

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Actually, if you must know, we are the three personalities of the intergalactic superbeing Blorjax, sent here to prepare Earth for alien invasion.

Unfortunately, we got really into this lawyer game thing. So there went THAT plan.

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The trio of friends are always the best from my experience. C:

Have you three ever planned to write a fic altogether? That'd definitely be worth a wait to read.

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We do have plans...eventually. Struggling is actually a shared universe between Raelle and myself--it has boy cooties, so Funk just does a wonderful job betaing and pokes fun at us--but I think all of us would love to do something together.

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Really, though, I think pretty much everything we write has input and some of the ideas from at least ONE other of the trio. (Usually both unless birthday surprise fic :P)

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And as I mentioned to musouka, under these two's influence, I do believe I've written more in the past six months than I have in the past six years. :P

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Wow, lotta reaction to the idea of a non-yaoi fan leaving a positive review! :D

I'll keep those other fics in mind! Far as I'm concerned, a fan is a fan is a fan, and there's certainly plenty of fodder in the canon storyline for both heterosexual and homosexual pairings.'Sides, a good story is a good story and I'd be ignoring a good chunk of the big fandom picture to ignore pairings I may not like as much.

'Sides, I like overthinking things, and it gets boring to talk about the same single pairing without any contradicting opinions!

So keep up the good work, guys!

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Well, I think all three of us have talked about how one of our goals when we write is to write fanfics that anyone can enjoy, regardless of the pairings therein. So it's nice to hear that goal has been accomplished with at least one person.

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I personally write my fanfiction to be omniloathed by everybody in the fandom, honestly. I don't know what YOU'RE talking about.

Also, there is a lot of Makoto in this thread.

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(Dear Pyraself, how 'bout that weather? My love for you is a stinky river of suck because you srsly fail at not spoiling yourself for GS3. Don't make me hogtie you until October. Kisses, me.)

But anyway, man, that's awesome. Phoenix suffers long, and Larry's perfectly, lovably obnoxious, and Edgeworth is chock-full of unspoken meanings, and Pearl is an adorable terror, all as it should be. The P/E is subtle enough to snuggle right up to canon and that ending? D'awwww. I'll have to read this again when I've played Trials and Tribulations and can really appreciate it.

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We should go back and change the names now that we know what they are. >_>

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