Larry and I stepped into the bar together. The room was scented of stale beer and smoke; it was mostly dark, save for the lights casting yellow orange domes of light onto green felted pool tables. The crack of pool balls was music to my ears, and the din of people laughing and drinking rang through the entire hall.

"Why are we even here Phoeniiiix...The drinks here are way too expensiiiiiiiiiiivee….."It figured, Larry being already drunk. He trailed off after a waitress at dinner and kept ordering drinks with money he didn't have. 38 dollars went down the drain, and Larry was rejected multiple times. It didn't matter, because he had found a new target. He staggered in and slammed himself onto a leather barstool. A girl who looked way too much like April May took his order, and he attempted to flirt with her. It was honestly embarrassing to watch, so I turned away and focused on the reason I had actually come.

I looked over the tables and saw Gumshoe scratch on the eight ball, costing him the game, and probably half of his salary. I had to feel sorry for him. He walked over to the bar and sat down next to Larry, and Larry slapped him on the back and laughed. Larry ordered him a beer while simultaneously dribbling down his shirt.

My jacket discarded to the nearest chair, I rolled up my sleeves and loosened my collar. I picked up a pool stick from the rack on the wall, covered the tip in green chalk, shoved a quarter into the slot on the side of the table, and began to pull balls out of the pockets. I arranged them into the triangle, the one at the front, the eight in the center, alternating solids and stripes. I hung the triangle back on the wall, and bent down behind the cue ball.

"You know, it's better to play with another person…" I would know that voice anywhere. It's the deep voice that shouts HOLD IT! and OBJECTION! at me in the courtroom. It's the smooth voice that attempts to disprove me in front of the judge, yet is so familiar that I can't help but smile. I stood back up and smoothed back my spiky hair.

"Edgeworth, I thought you weren't coming."

"Of course I was coming, Wright. It is the least I could do for you saving me in court today and…." He trailed off, and momentarily avoided my gaze.

"And what?"

"Oh, never mind, let's just play." His jacket joins mine on the chair, and he rolled up his sleeves. His cravat unfortunately stays completely tied, but he still looked more relaxed than usual. I had to wonder what he looks like without the cravat, without...

"Do you want to break?"

"Um, sure…" I leaned down over my stick and swiped it through my fingers. The cue ball hit the triangle of balls, but they didn't scatter very far, and the cue ball went into the pocket. Embarrassing. Edgeworth laughed under his breath, and plucked the triangle off the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Resetting the balls, Wright. That was more pathetic than the time you cried in fourth grade."

"Hey….HOLD IT! You still remember that?"

"Of course. I thought you said that you were good at this." He shook his head and ruffled the back of his hair. I felt my face turn as red as his jacket.

"Now let me show you how to actually hit a worthy shot." He put his stick back on the rack, and walked behind me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as I bent down, with him bending over me. His stomach pressed into my back, and his bangs tickled my face. Legs pressed against legs, the bare skin of his arms brushed against mine. He took the hand holding the stick in his hand.

"Loosely hold the stick farther back, it gives you better leverage. Lean farther down, bend your legs for a more relaxed stance." How could I relax with him bending closer to me than ever? A film of sweat gathered on my brow. I couldn't let him think I was nervous! Or anything else...I mean... Me, him… never…

I made more shots, each worse than the last, furiously blushing the entire time. He completely obliterated me on every turn, running the table with ease. With every shot I could see his muscles tighten under his shirt, strong arms making delicate and precise shots leading to my ultimate demise. He missed only once, giving me a final chance to hit anything at all. I bent down to take the shot, but then glanced over my shoulder at the last second. He was staring at me...he had a content look in his eyes, unlike the piercing glare he reserved for me in court. I completely missed the ball, and I swear sweat dripped onto the green felt of the table.

"Wright...Is everything okay?" I stuttered meaningless words and he moved closer to me. He looked straight into my eyes with his glinting grey ones, and a look of understanding graced his face, along with a slight smirk.

"Yes Wright, I know. It's so obvious…" I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck. I could tell he was looking up and down at me, pathetic, nervous, sweating me. It surprisingly wasn't a look of disgust, but as if he were allured.

"And you?" I said tentatively. He moved to grab my hand, and I saw him blushing behind his bangs. He leaned closer, and he whispered so close to my ear that his lips brushed the side of my face.

"Maybe we should consider finishing this game at my apartment…" He winked and moved to grab his coat. I took mine, and then unfortunately remembered the inebriated Larry sitting with Gumshoe.

"Hey Gumshoe, can you make sure that Larry makes it home alright?"

"Sure pal…" He trailed off as Larry puked into the bartender's lap. Gumshoe thumped Larry on the back and said something like "That's enough for tonight pal…" but I didn't hear the rest because I rushed after Edgeworth, to his car...to his apartment…to him.