December 30, 3:45 PM

Wright and Co. Law Offices

Phoenix Wright wasn't really sure why he'd even bothered coming into work that day. Sure, there had been a few business calls, namely press wanting his statement on the outcome of his last trial. At first he'd hoped that it might actually drum up some buzz and bring him more work sometime, but so far it was clear he was far from the focus of the story. No, the country was far more interested in the fall of the God of Prosecution, Manfred von Karma.

It wasn't until after the first phone call, with the New York Times, that he decided to do a little more digging, and realized the enormity of his actions. Manfred von Karma had gained fame and notoriety, as well as infamy, across the entire country. As California's law system became quicker, harder, and more resolute in stamping out crime, von Karma's own fanatical obsessions and flawless record made him the very embodiment for many of the state's radical system.

By proving that the figurehead was, in fact, guilty of two counts of first-degree murder as well as a host of other crimes, some of which were still being investigated, Phoenix had dealt a blow to the very courts he worked in. Of course, many were doing their best to distance von Karma from the legal world, but the damage had already been done. What would happen next, Phoenix didn't know.

That thought made him look at the couch in his office, where Maya had often lounged on their many off days together. It was empty. Phoenix was alone. He let out a sigh, and looked at the clock. It was almost four. That was a reasonable time to leave, right? Without Maya around, the office was less inviting, less habitable. Phoenix started to rise when there was a knock on the door. Phoenix rolled his eyes, he really hadn't expected any reporters to show up in person. "Come in," he said, hoping this would be over quickly.

Instead of some annoying reporter, however, it was Phoenix's old friend Larry Butz, still wearing his Santa costume (sans the beard), who came in through the door. Before Phoenix could mull that over, Gumshoe followed him, and Edgeworth after the detective. Larry was grinning from ear to ear, Gumshoe looked like he was brimming with energy, and Edgeworth wore his familiar air of indifference and annoyance. All three were carrying presents. "Hey, Nick!" Larry said, looking around the room. "Where's that girl you were hanging out with?"

A sharp jolt of emotional pain at Larry's question ripped through Phoenix's heart, before he answered quickly, "Personal leave, she'll be gone for a few months." His guests set their gifts down on his desk. Larry sat down on the couch, as did Gumshoe, while Edgeworth found himself drawn to an uncomfortable chair near a wall, small signs of discomfort evident on his face. "What are you guys doing here?"

There was a pause as the two couch-sitting men looked at their chair-sitting counterpart, and the prosecutor let out a huff and responded, "I was speaking with Detective Gumshoe yesterday, and it occurred to me that my case may have displaced any holiday plans you and Ms. Fey might have had. Everything after that was the good detective's idea."

Phoenix looked over to a corner of his desk, where several presents lay unopened under Charlie the office plant. Maya had the idea of waiting to open them sometime Christmas Day, but like Edgeworth said, finding out your childhood friend has been arrested for murder tended to dampen the holiday spirit. Looking between those presents and the (mostly) smiling faces of his guests, Phoenix let out a sigh. He had wanted to just wallow in his sadness, but as much as he didn't want to admit it, the idea of spending the evening with friends didn't sound too bad. "Okay," he said, finally, "but let me open these presents we were delivered to the office first."

As he reached for the top present in the pile, he watched as Gumshoe replaced it with several from his arms, then quickly piled on more from Larry and Edgeworth. This first one was a small box, wrapped in plain brown paper. The only apparent outside marking was the Wright and Co. Law Offices address and just enough postage stamps to reach him. Frowning, Phoenix ripped the paper to find a small cardboard box with a note attached, the front merely reading, "To Phoenix Wright." Curious, Phoenix opened the paper and read.

"Dear Phoenix Wright, I hope this present finds you in good health.

I'm sure you don't remember me, but I just wanted to ensure there were no hard feelings left between us. I do not blame you for my current circumstances, and if I'm being honest it was simply a pleasure seeing your work in person, especially considering your recent flings with fame.

With respect,

Frank Sahwit"

"Whose it from, pal?" Gumshoe asked, clearly filled with tension as he watched Phoenix reading the note.

Sweat gathered on Phoenix's brow, he hadn't thought he'd ever hear from this man again. "It's from Frank Sahwit." Three blank stares asked Phoenix an obvious question. Phoenix looked irately at Larry. "Really, Larry? The name doesn't ring a bell? At all?"

Phoenix's friend scratched his head, clearly deep in thought. "Hmm…nope."

Larry's clueless grin set Phoenix's eyes to rolling. "He's the man who murdered your ex-girlfriend! Broke into her house, hit her with your statue, tried to frame you, currently serving a prison sentence for more than a decade? My first trial?"

That seemed to jog Larry's memory, as he suddenly started a storm of blinking, before setting his jaw sharply, a vein bulging on his head. "That monster?! He sent you a present?!"

Edgeworth frowned. "Wright, I don't think it's a good idea to open that here. Perhaps let Detective Gumshoe take a look at it, maybe have the police give it a firm once-over."

"Do you think he sent me a bomb!?" Phoenix asked, his eyes widening.

"No, most likely nothing that melodramatic," Edgeworth replied, his tone casually dismissive. "But I have received packages from people I've sent to jail before, Wright, and they're rarely pleasant."

Preferring to edge on the side of caution, Phoenix handed the box to Gumshoe, who stored in inside a trench-coat pocket. The next parcel was coated in Steel Samurai rapping paper, and was much larger than the previous gift. It had been left on the doorstep, he remembered, with a note that read, "To Mr. Wright, from Will Powers." A quick and careless unwrapping later, Phoenix found himself holding a coffeemaker, one of those expensive ones that made them one cup at a time instead of in pots.

"I'm not a big coffee fan, but it's still better than the cheap one Mia had," Phoenix said with a smile, glowing inside with the feeling that someone actually appreciated what he had done. It wasn't the only gift from Global Studios either. Penny Nichols had sent him a nice greeting card with a message inside for Maya, one that Phoenix only glanced at, his heart falling a little as he saw it. The card also had a gift card to a popular department store, not for much, but with his office finances everything helped.

Cody Hackins sent him some unopened packs of Steel Samurai trading cards, which Phoenix decided to save for Maya. For a moment he thought he saw Edgeworth's eyes tracking the packs of cards in his hand, but Phoenix thought it must have been a mistake on his part. Nothing from the Oldbag, as if that was a surprise, but Sal Manella, having barely dodged jail time himself, had sent a Pink Princess costume that he claimed would fit Maya perfectly. Phoenix tried very, very hard not to think about how he got her measurements.

Now that those were out of the way, it was time to open his guest's presents. He decided to start with Larry's, under the logic that if he didn't his friend would throw a fit. The present was small, and the wrapping paper tacky green and red stripes. As an ex-art student, Phoenix was very happy that Larry seemed to limit is "artistic sensibilities" to sculpting. Oddly enough the present was a sculpture, one that looked like the Thinker, except it was Mia's body instead of a naked man's.

Phoenix wasn't sure what to think: a statue of his mentor, one that resembled the weapon used to kill her. Of course, he knew Larry hadn't thought of that. He looked up at his friend, genuinely surprised by the gift. "Um, thanks Larry. It's really nice. I'll take it home with me."

Of course, this compliment ensured Larry was all smiles, blushing and acting foolish. "It was nothing Nick." Then, to Phoenix's surprise, Larry's face turned serious, deliberately casting off his humor. "Nick, man, your mentor freaking died, dude. It must be tough. I know we don't hang as much as we used to, but if you ever want to talk, I'm here for you."

A somber mood fell on the room with that offer, one that seemed to make Gumshoe uncomfortable with being quiet. "Mia Fey was one-of-a-kind, pal," the detective said solemnly. "I only worked a few cases with her, but it only took one to see what kind of person she was."

If Gumshoe had looked uncomfortable, his subordinate's short speech made Edgeworth's silence unbearable. "I only worked two cases with her myself. I…try to forget our first encounter, but regardless of how that case turned out, she was a…worthy adversary."

No one met the eyes of another, each thinking of everything they'd lost this year. Breaking out if it first, Gumshoe smiled and strived to lighten the mood. "Open my gift next pal! It's the big one!"

It was fairly clear which one he was referring to, Phoenix thought, as it barely kept itself on Charley's pot, hanging of the edge and daring gravity to do its worst. The wrapping paper was cheap, a red wavey pattern that anyone could get for a buck, if not less. Phoenix had an inkling of the detective's money issues, and more than anything he tried to be touched that the man had gotten him something at all.

Inside was several paperback books, which really surprised Phoenix. He glanced at the spines: "Art of War", "Thus Spoke Zarathustra", "The Prince". When Phoenix's eyes moved from the books to the detective, Gumshoe was scratching his head. "I found 'em at a good price, pal. Thought with your lawyer stuff, it might help to read about strategy and stuff." Phoenix didn't have the heart to tell him half of these books were on philosophy, not strategy.

Appreciating the thought, Phoenix gave Gumshoe what he hoped looked like a genuine smile. "I'll be sure to read these when I get the chance, Detective. Thank you." More specifically, if he ever found himself with enough free time, he might crack open one of them, maybe. That left just one present left, a small one in plain blue wrapping paper. "This one's from you, Edgeworth?"

Apparently the prosecutor didn't feel a question that stupid required an answer, and merely watched as Phoenix unwrapped the small, thin present to find a framed photo. In the photograph were three kids, all fairly young, posing in what looked like an office. The boy with the spiky hair and the one wearing a tank top were making silly faces, but the young child in a bow-tie and a suit was trying to look serious, though his childish happiness was evident regardless. Surprised, Phoenix turned to photo to Larry, who stared at the photo, remembering.

"Hey, that's that time we went to your Pop's work after school, right Edgy? I'd completely forgotten about that!" Larry said, his voice making it clear he was just as floored by the photo as Phoenix was.

Edgeworth looked uncomfortable. "After the recent…incident…I went through some of my father's things, and found it. I thought, since you seemed to love talking about our past so much, maybe you'd like to have it, Wright."

"Thanks, Edgeworth," Phoenix said, unsure of how to feel. "It's a great present." Feeling awkward himself, the attorney grabbed the boxed coffee machine and said, "Why don't we all try this out? It comes with a bunch of sample cups. I don't have anything in the office to eat right now, but…"

The evening that followed was more pleasant than Phoenix had expected, despite the fact that Edgeworth refused to stop complaining about the lack of tea. It was a proper Christmas party, and as everyone left with a "Merry Christmas" on their lips, Phoenix resolved to make this a tradition.