A/N: A whole series was sparked by someone wondering what would have happned if Miles Egdeworth, still in his Bratworth stage, ,et college Phoenix aka Feenie. Miles only has the first story, but let's not get ahead of ourselves!

.o.o.o.

Miles Arc Part 1: Hello Again

.o.o.o.

Miles had never known what to do with the letters he'd gotten in Germany from Phoenix. He hadn't even known how Phoenix had figured out how to send them so far or even where to send them to in the first place.

He'd never replied. Phoenix was, in the end, a reminder of a different life.

But then he'd gotten more when he moved back to Los Angeles. And a couple calls where he'd picked up the phone and been too startled at the voice on the other end—how Wright could have grown up and still sounded so much like himself Miles had no idea—and eventually he'd answered the incessant requests for a meeting.

Maybe it was the guilt of ignoring one of the few people in existence who genuinely seemed to admire him. Maybe it was wanting some connection to a past he'd all-but had to sever. Maybe he was just lonely and Phoenix was something like a peer.

He'd finally gotten Phoenix to agree that no, they were not meeting in public, they were meeting at Miles' apartment (Miles did not feel like subjecting himself to the various imbeciles that likely lived in Wright's dorm and a public meeting was out of the question).

He sternly convinced himself that he did not flinch at the sharp, quick knocks on his apartment door. "One second." He got the latch off and opened it, "Hello, Ph-"

"Miles!"

Miles jerked at the sudden hug. He really wasn't used to so much contact, outside of Franziska when her control lapsed for a moment, and he just wasn't sure what to do. He stood still until a sheepish Phoenix released him.

"Sorry, man, I'm just really glad to see you again…" Phoenix rubbed the back of his head, smiling weakly.

Miles took him in. The hair wasn't too much more outrageous than when they'd been children, though it had an odder look on an adult. Phoenix had on a respectable, if slightly over-large, blue sweater and black slacks. A messenger bag was slung over his shoulders, and unlike his clothes there was no hiding how worn out it was.

"It's…good to see you again too," Miles said slowly.

What surprised him the most was that it really was good to see him. Right now all Miles had in his life were the von Karmas, a few bumbling detectives with the majority scared witless of him, and a slew of annoying attorneys and reporters who liked calling him a demon.

Someone who smiled when they saw him was frankly rather welcome.

"Well…come in," Miles added, realizing they'd been standing in the doorway for who knows how long.

"Oh…yeah!" Phoenix chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. He followed Miles inside the apartment. "Wow, you really like pink!"

"It's magenta," Miles pointed out. "Didn't some of your letters say you were studying art, Wright?"

"You read them?"

Miles flinched at the excited look in Phoenix's eyes. "Ah…yes. All of them."

"Well…why didn't you write me back?"

The hurt in those eyes was worse than the excited look. Much worse.

"I…I spent a long time wondering if I was the same person you were writing to," Miles settled on. That was pretty much the short version of his feelings over those letters and calls, after all.

"That sounds both really deep and really weird," Phoenix quipped.

"Funny," Miles said.

A silence seemed to try and settle, but Phoenix apparently noticed it and started talking again, "And anyway I'm not an art major anymore."

"You're not?"

"Nope. Switched to law."

"…Why?"

"Well, at first it was because someone still wasn't talking to me and I decided you'd have to respond if we faced off in court…but now I just really like it," Phoenix admitted. "I wouldn't drop my courses with Professor Woods and Professor Forrest for anything! Especially Professor Woods! I mean she's like the queen of making the law seem accessible to clients so they know what you're doing-"

"I've heard of Mrs. Woods," Miles said. "Though I've never gotten to face her in court since she mostly deal with class-action suits these days instead of defending in state trials."

"I don't care how badass a prosecutor you are, she'd give you a run for your money," Phoenix chuckled. "Though she did smack me once for changing majors over 'a guy'. Apparently when she went to Harvard it was to chase a crush. Weird, huh?"

"Did you explain the differing situation?" Miles asked.

"No. Mr. Forrest said to just smile and nod," Phoenix admitted. "Plus I couldn't tell them…that was right after you'd trounced Mr. Forrest in court!"

"That was a good day," Miles admitted smugly.

Phoenix gave him a weird look, "What do you mean?"

"I enjoy putting away criminals," Miles replied.

"Oh, okay," Phoenix shrugged. "I actually didn't see much of that trial—studying for finals for that semester."

"It was nothing special," Miles said. "It's my job, nothing more."

"So…why did you become a prosecutor, anyway?"

Miles kept his expression flat though inside he was cursing the topic he had known would come up eventually. He'd actually been starting to…relax…around Wright and now… "People change, Wright. I never would have thought you'd have gone into law in fourth grade. Criminology maybe, but not law."

Wright seemed to accept that, "Yeah. On the other hand I think we both knew Larry'd drop out on us."

"At least he apparently thought to get a GED, from your letters," Miles said.

"Yeah, along with a different girl every other month. Larry reminds me of those times Mrs. Woods describes her younger self as being 'in love with love'."

"I wouldn't know," Miles admitted.

The next silence was more comfortable than the one Phoenix had needed to interrupt, and lasted for a few minutes until Phoenix looked at Miles clock. "Oh, man! I've got to go, Miles, class in the morning…um…see you later?"

"…I wouldn't mind seeing you for lunch sometime," Miles said.

Phoenix hugged him again, but this time Miles managed to just move enough to pat his friend on the back.

.o.o.o.

The rekindled friendship was rather comfortable for Miles. Phoenix learned fast there were just things he did not need to ask his friend about and stopped trying to find out too much about Miles' life before moving back to the states. Miles, on the other hand, felt himself able to open up about a few other things with Phoenix—mostly rotten days at the office or annoyingly over-complex cases or people who abused loopholes in efforts to get obviously guilty clients off.

They'd had an argument or two, mostly with Phoenix pointing out that Miles probably had a higher standard of evidence than most courts in existence and Miles arguing that Phoenix wouldn't know if he was defending an innocent man or a guilty one unless it all came out in court anyway.

The fights never lasted long. Miles found that being around Phoenix again was addictive. It gave him something to look forward to in comparison to the endless stream of cases he got for the state and the equally endless snippy emails from Manfred. Phoenix seemed to feel the same, getting sulky if Miles ignored him for more than a week and often apologizing over nothing if he thought he'd somehow been the one in the wrong.

That had led to one very amusing conversation where Miles hadn't been able to contact Phoenix for a week due to losing his phone and not knowing his friend's email or new dorm address. By the time Miles had gotten his phone back—it had been under a cop's desk all week, battery long-dead—Phoenix had apparently thought Miles wasn't talking to him anymore.

Miles had never gotten hugged so many time in one night when he managed to text Phoenix for lunch and an explanation.

One day, though, Phoenix was…unusually distracted. Miles let it go through dinner, but while they waited for desert he just had to ask, "What's with you today?"

Phoenix had blushed deeply before grinning and announcing, "I met a girl!"

At the moment Miles couldn't tell why that made his stomach drop, and had blamed it on the lasagna.