Phoenix followed Larry down the hallway of the prosecutors' building, feeling out of place. His defense attorney's badge might have had something to do with that; he felt like the small golden gleam on the lapel of his blue suit's jacket drew the eyes of everyone they passed by. The raised eyebrows that followed, though, probably had more to do with his friend's ratty yellow jacket - defense attorneys did sometimes visit prosecutors at work, it was true, but they didn't usually do so with someone dressed like Larry.
Probably they think he's a witness, or maybe a defendant, Phoenix thought as he punched the "up" button for the elevator.
An interminably long elevator ride, shared with a woman wearing a beehive hairdo and an icy glare, finally brought them to the twelfth floor. The woman made a disapproving noise as they exited, and another when they stopped outside of Office 1202.
Larry threw the door open and strode into the prosecutor's office without hesitation. Phoenix Wright hung back in the hallway of the prosecutor's office, cringing as he imagined Edgeworth's response to this breach in manners.
"Come on, Edgey, we're going to be late!" Larry announced to the room at large.
Miles Edgeworth looked up from his paperwork with a frown. His desk, normally tidy, was strew with paperwork, and his jacket – burgundy today - was folded over the back of his chair. "Do you not believe in knocking, Larry?"
"Awww, Edgey!" Larry didn't sound particularly ashamed. "You said yesterday you'd have lunch with us. I gotta introduce you to my new girlfriend!"
Edgeworth sighed. "I suppose Wright is there, too?"
Phoenix stepped into the room enough so that the prosecutor could see him, and waved sheepishly. "Hi, Edgeworth."
Edgeworth sighed, rubbing his temples. "I just got back from court. Please allow me to finish my notes before we depart."
"Aw, but Edgey-"
Phoenix took his sandy-haired friend by the arm and tugged. "Let's wait in the hall. He'll get done faster if we aren't distracting him."
Edgeworth appeared from his office twenty minutes later, just as Larry had cajoled Phoenix into trying to make a basket with the basketball hoop someone had placed outside the office next to Edgeworth's.
"Stick to practicing law, Wright," Edgeworth told him as his first shot rebounded embarassingly off the backboard.
Phoenix grinned awkwardly at Edgeworth, who snorted. The prosecutor maybe have left his papers behind, but he hadn't exactly left his work behind, too; his forehead still bore tense creases.
"Rough case?" Phoenix asked him as they made their way down the stairs without Larry ("You guys are crazy, I'm taking the elevator!") to the parking garage below the Prosecutors' Office.
"Very," Edgeworth admitted after a hesitating for half a flight. "Not a murder, thankfully, but it was a pretty brutal assault – a mugging. There's no denying the defendant did it, but the defense did everything she can to trivialize the crime and push for a reduced sentence." Edgeworth ran a hand through his hair. "On the first day, she argued that the victim was asking for it, that her client was provoked after the victim..." his voice turned harsh, his lip curled in disgust, "humiliated him by flirting with him. Yesterday morning, she tried what the press has since named the 'Snackoo defense'."
"The Snackoo Defense?"
Edgeworth sighed heavily. "The defense is arguing diminished capacity, as evidenced by the fact that the defendant had eaten ten bags of Snackoos earlier that day."
"Seriously? Because I know those things are bad for you, but... that's ridiculous."
"Indeed. But the judge let the trial go to a third day because of it, and..." Edgeworth made an inarticulate noise of frustration.
They reached the parking level, where an impatient Larry prevented Phoenix from asking what the verdict had been. "Yo, Edgey, can we take your car?"
"You haven't where you're taking us, Larry," Edgeworth reminded him, his voice tinged with impatience.
"Oh!" Larry scratched the back of his neck. "Right. Um, so, my new girl, she's a waitress at this French restaurant...forget the name...hmm... maybe..."
Phoenix shut his eyes. Please don't say Très Bien, please don't say Très Bien, please don't say Très Bien...
"Oh, I remember. Cafe le France or something."
Phoenix opened his eyes cautiously. "Not Très Bien?"
"Tray Be-in?" Larry tilted his head, considering. "No, don't think so. Anyway, she works the lunch shift there today, and I promised her I'd introduce her to my best buds!" He beamed.
"And where is this restaurant?" Edgeworth prodded.
"Um, it's on Palm Street, about three blocks west of the park, the one with all the fruit..." Larry scratched his head. "Oh, yeah, Vitamin Park."
Phoenix groaned. Edgeworth tilted his head in wordless inquiry.
"I had a case that brought me there in January," Phoenix mumbled. "I'll tell you about it later."
"Is it walking distance?" Edgeworth asked.
"Uh, not really?" Larry said hopefully.
Phoenix shook his head. "It's walkable. I went to that park from the detention center enough times..."
Edgeworth fixed Larry with a stern look.
Larry pouted. "Aw, man, but you have such a nice car..."
"But it's such a nice day for a walk," Edgeworth replied, heading briskly toward the pedestrian exit.
It was a nice day for a walk, Phoenix thought as he walked alongside Larry, Edgeworth half a pace behind them. But then, April was always a particularly good month in Los Angeles – not too hot yet, but the chilly evenings of winter were past. The sun was gently warming on his shoulders, and the air was clear thanks to last night's unseasonable rain. The colors in the shopfronts and passer-bys clothes all seemed bright and cheerful in the sunlight, the bustle of the city around them friendly and welcoming.
As Larry nattered on about his girlfriend's numerous and varied charms (apparently she liked to bake), Phoenix glanced over at Edgeworth. The prosecutor wasn't actually frowning, but the set of his jaw was tight and his eyes, brow furrowed, seemed focused on the sidewalk. Too bad he won't relax enough to enjoy the weather, Phoenix thought to himself. Then again, I'm not sure I could, either, if I had a trial like that hanging over my head...
They passed a box dispensing the local tabloid, and Edgeworth flinched visibly, wrenching his gaze upwards. He did mention the press before. I wonder... Phoenix broke off the thought as he realized Edgeworth had noticed his gaze. The prosecutor raised an eyebrow, and Phoenix flashed him an awkward grin and turned back to Larry, who was still talking about cookies.
"... and then last week, she put blue sugar sprinkles on them... oh, hey, we're almost there!"
With growing trepidation, Phoenix realized they were approaching the all-too-familiar building that had housed Très Bien. To complete his horror, Larry did not walk past, but instead turned and ambled towards the door.
"Here we are! La Cafe Fransis!" Larry announced with pride. "The fine French restaurant where the love of my life works!"
"That would be Le Café Français," Edgeworth corrected automatically, then stopped, peering at the sign. "Although the sign seems to have the wrong article."
Phoenix looked more carefully at the sign. It read "La Café Français". There was also a sign in the window bearing the comforting words "Under nouveau ownership!"
Larry opened the door, the other two men following behind him. As Phoenix stepped into the restaurant, Edgeworth stopped mid-stride beside him, stiffening. Phoenix couldn't blame him; apparently the new owner hadn't bothered to redecorate, and the interior of the restaurant was still painful to behold. The gaudy pink and yellow floral wallpaper was probably even more of an offense to Edgeworth's sense of aesthetics than to his own.
A glance towards the dining area revealed that – horror of horrors – the new owner had elected to hang a large mirror to separate the two rows of tables. It was bad enough imagining it during the trial. Seeing it in real life... Phoenix shuddered. The horrible thing was suspended from the ceiling by flower-dotted chains and wobbled slightly as a waitress hurried past, making the lacy tablecloths and dotted pink chairs it reflected waver nauseatingly.
"My god, it's hideous," Edgeworth breathed. Then he shook himself and stepped forward, releasing the door to swing shut behind him.
Not wanting to be caught in the closing door, Phoenix stepped forward and promptly barked his shin on a low cabinet painted with pink flowers. There was a clink and a clatter, and he looked down to see a collection of sea-blue bottles rolling off one of the shelves.
Hadn't the cabinet held tacky tchotchkes last time he'd been here? Not that it mattered, and there was something uncomfortably familiar about the small blue bottles. The defense attorney hurriedly bent to return the scattered collection to their rightful place on the shelf. They fit rather awkwardly on the top shelf; the shelf below held an assortment of newspapers. One had been folded open to the local section, where a black-and-white image of Edgeworth glared in the direction of the witness stand. Looks like Edgeworth's getting in the papers again.
Ahead of them, Larry was waving at a waitress. "Yo, baby, it's me!"
The uniform hadn't changed at all, either, Phoenix realized with detached horror as the young woman hurried toward them. Although unlike Maya and Maggey, this waitress wore an astonishing number of necklaces, bracelets, and a single pair of very long, dangley earrings. She was blonde, like most of Larry's girlfriends.
"Larry!" The woman's brown eyes were warm and friendly. "You came! Are these the friends you've been telling me about?"
Larry spread his arms dramatically. "Exactly, baby! These are my friends, Nick and Edgey."
"You two are lawyers, right?" she asked, retrieving three menus from behind the coffee. Her bracelets clanked with the motion. "Please don't sue me if I spill coffee!" she added with a wink.
"I'm, um, a defense attorney, actually," Phoenix said awkwardly. "I only do criminal trials. We don't bring civil suits. I'm Phoenix Wright."
The waitress clapped her hands together, bracelets jangling. "Pleased to meet you!"
Edgeworth stepped forward. "My name is Miles Edgeworth." He bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms...?"
"I'm Donna Baubles! But call me Donna." She curtsied, her jewelry swaying violently with the movement. "I'm glad to finally meet you both, Welcome to La Cafay Fransis!"
"Le Café Français," Edgeworth muttered under his breath.
Larry beamed at her. "Thanks, babe!"
Donna beamed back, her earings winking in the light.
Edgeworth cleared his throat.
"Table for three, right?" Donna asked after an awkward pause. "Let's get you seated!"
"Isn't she great?" Larry asked them, after Donna had seated them at one of the tables against the wall, and promised to return with two coffees and a tea.
Edgeworth made a noncommittal noise and opened his menu.
"She seems to really like you," Phoenix offered cautiously. "How did you meet?"
"Oh, man, it was totally fate!" Larry announced dramatically, and launched into a complicated story involving his most recent ex, three beers, a tank of goldfish, and a very powerful magnet. Used to these sorts of tales, Phoenix listened with half an ear as he studied the menu, offering "mm-hmm" and "ahh" and "too bad" as appropriate when Larry took a breath or paused for a response. The new owner may have kept everything else about the place the same, but the menu was blessedly unfamiliar.
Across from him, Edgeworth glared at the menu and muttered darkly to himself. "What sort of restaurant is this?" the prosecutor asked, exasperated, when Larry had finally concluded his tale.
"Um, French, basically, like I said before," Larry responded, not in the least perturbed.
"This is not a French restaurant," Edgeworth insisted, gesturing at the menu. "I have been in French restaurants before. I have eaten French cuisine many times. And I have to say that I have never run across a dish called 'tamales escargot'."
Phoenix returned to his own study of the menu with growing alarm. He'd been thinking of ordering the filet mignon verde, described in the menu as "an authentic mingling of tender beef and tomatilos" but maybe that was not such a good idea. Jean Armstrong was still in jail for obstruction of justice, so the chef had to be different, but...
"Oh, that! Well, Donna says the chef was experimenting. Trying some French-Korean fusion."
Edgeworth sighed. "Tamales are traditionally Latin and Southern American cuisine."
"Well, it's experimental," Larry responded, sounding hurt. "Give it a chance, Edgey. Donna works her heart out here!"
"My apologies," Edgeworth responded stiffly. "I meant no disrespect to her."
"Hmph, all right, apology accepted," Larry said, then brightened as his girlfriend arrived, bringing their drinks. "Donna-baby, I'll have the lunch special!"
She beamed at him. "Sure! One Sweet-and-Sour Chicken Au Provence with pommes fritz!"
Edgeworth winced noticeably, at the Californiaized French or the the dish, Phoenix wasn't certain.
Donna turned to the others, necklaces swaying. "How about you, Mr. Edgey, Mr. Nick?"
Edgeworth looked horrified at being called "Mr. Edgey", but recovered swiftly and put in an order for une Salade d'Endives, Noix et Roquefort.
Donna looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I don't think there's anything on the menu like that."
The prosecutor repeated his order more slowly, pointing to the item on the menu.
"Oh! You want the salad dever nocksy rockford. I'm sorry, I'll make sure to bring it right away."
Edgeworth's look was one of polite horror. "Yes, thank you," he managed in a strangled tone.
Phoenix ordered a Caesar salad, hoping that even Jean Armstrong couldn't have messed it up. Donna took their menus and hurried to the kitchen, knocking into the hanging mirror again and setting it swinging.
"So, that's my girl!" Larry beamed. "Isn't she something? She's a graphic designer too – made all of the signs for the restaurant!"
"You two seem very... happy together," Phoenix offered awkwardly. "She seems nice."
"Yup! Say, how are things going with you and you-know-who?"
Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck, trying to banish the sudden mental picture of a certain shy nun of the Kurain tradition. "I have no idea who you're talking about, Larry."
"You know. Iris! That babe from Hazukura, who turned out to be your college girlfriend." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How's that going?"
Phoenix felt his face redden."Um, well, she's still in prison, but I've visited a couple times and written her some letters..." He raised his coffee cup to his mouth, an excuse to postpone providing further details.
"Any conjugal visits?"
It was a good thing he hadn't actually taken a sip yet, or the table and Edgeworth across from him would've gotten a coffee shower. "Larry, please!"
"You know I'm just kidding! But I'm glad you two are back together." And Larry did, actually, sound glad.
Phoenix bite back an automatic denial. He and Iris... well, they weren't exactly together, but it wasn't honest to say there was nothing there, either. "It's more complicated than that," he mumbled. I've spent the past five years trying not to think about it, and Iris spent the past five years drowning in guilt. Every time we talk she looks like she wants to apologize.
Larry grinned reassuringly. "It'll work out. She's good for you, Nick." He turned to Edgeworth, who was looking mildly amused at Phoenix's discomfort. "She really is! She was his first girlfriend."
"...no, she wasn't," Phoenix corrected with a sigh, but he didn't mind too much. This was a chance to get them off the subject of Iris, at any rate. "My first girlfriend was Nicole. I know you remember her, we all went to prom together."
"High school doesn't count unless you Did It," Larry asserted smugly, folding his arms. Then he looked worried. "Er... you didn't actually Do It, did you?"
Phoenix gave him a pained look. "We were in high school." When Larry's worried look didn't so much as flicker, he added, "That means no."
"Then it doesn't count," Larry responded with a triumphant gesture. "So! Like I was saying, Dahlia-Iris-whatever was his first girlfriend. His first real girlfriend," he added quickly as Phoenix started to object again. "You shoulda seen them in college, Edgey. Nick was head-over-heels for her, and she for him. It was almost disgusting how cute they were together! It was a lot like at the trial back in February. You saw it, he was totally out of his mind for her."
Phoenix groaned. "I was out of my mind on codeine and a fever. And on just-having-fallen-off-a-bridge, thank you very much."
"Only you, Wright, would have tried to cross a burning bridge in the first place," Edgeworth informed him smugly.
Phoenix folded his arms and fixed each of his friends with a deliberately cross look. Edgeworth smirked in response. So glad my humiliation has put him in a better mood.
Larry apparently decided he hadn't embarrassed Phoenix enough. "So, like I was saying, they're perfect for each other!You know, Edgey, before he dated Iris, Nick actually thought he was gay?"
Edgeworth raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat, his arms folded. "Did he now?" His smirk had vanished.
"I did not!" Phoenix objected weakly, feeling like a pit had suddenly opened up in his stomach. "I was -"
Larry shook his head. "Nick, you practically dated that guy in college."
"...I did date that guy in college, Larry." Phoenix ran a hand through his hair in frustration. How many times had he tried to explain to Larry? It didn't look like it was going to be any more successful this time, and he didn't exactly want to get into it in public, no matter how empty the restaurant was. "That's not what I'm-"
Larry elbowed Edgeworth. "See? Nick was totally confused. Thought he was into dudes!"
"I wasn't confused!"
"..and now he's dating the lovely Ms. Hawthorne! See!" Larry beamed. "Straight as an arrow now. You should've seen him macking on Dessy DeLite a few months ago. And she was even married!"
Edgeworth's mouth set into a thin line.
"I wasn't hitting on her!" Phoenix said, embarrassment and frustration giving way to anger. "And for the last time, I wasn't-"
"You totally were, you sly dog!" Larry elbowed him, then turned back to Edgeworth. "He totally was macking on her."
Phoenix buried his face in his hands. "Forget it. I am not having this conversation with you." And definitely not in front of Edgeworth, he added mentally, after a glance at the prosecutor's stoney expression.
Belatedly sensing the tense atmosphere, Larry changed the subject with his usual lack of subtlety. "So, Edgey, watched any good movies lately?"