By the time the buzz was wearing off
We were standing out on the sidewalk
With our tattoos that looked like rings
In the hot Nevada sun
And they won't fade.

-Ben Folds, "You To Thank"

The first day of Miles Edgeworth's marriage to Phoenix Wright started with a splitting headache. A slit of offensively bright white light shone through the hotel curtain and blinded him, compounding the problem. Resisting the urge to moan pathetically, Miles sat up and groped for a glass of water. Phoenix was in the shower.

Everything was quiet. Miles could make out the overstuffed forms of hotel furniture, luxurious but lacking personality. He climbed out of bed, picking up clothes off the floor as he went. He tossed the heap of clothes on a chair. Entered the bathroom, rooting through his things to find painkillers.

"I told you to drink more water." Phoenix's chuckle echoed off the steamy walls.

"Some of us aren't experienced drinkers, Phoenix," Miles groused.

"I also told you to take it easy."

"It was a celebration, I wanted champagne."

"Celebration is great, but you need to be ready for the morning after, too."

Phoenix climbed out of the shower, dripping all over the tile and looking fond. Miles sighed and handed him a towel. "You're making a mess of things."

"Thanks, Miles," said Phoenix, knotting the towel sloppily around his waist without really bothering to pat down at all. He placed a kiss to Miles' cheek.

"Ouch. Aren't you going to shave? We didn't have a lot of time after the flight, but…"

"Nope. It's part of the persona."

"You look like a vagrant."

"That's the idea." Phoenix took his toothbrush, squeezed toothpaste onto it. "Mind? I'm gonna need the sink."

"By all means," said Miles, stepping aside. He reached across the sink to fill a glass with water and took several aspirin as Phoenix brushed his teeth thoroughly, rinsed, spit.

"Poker is a psychological game. If people think I don't have my act together, they don't suspect me. That's how I cleaned up the tables last night. I'm gonna have enough money to put Trucy through college in no time. In ten years when she's actually ready to go, I might have enough saved up for her to go to two colleges."

"I just wish you'd clean up your face," Miles muttered.

"The amazing thing about being an adult is that I don't have to listen to you if I don't feel like it," Phoenix smirked. "C'mon, let's order room service and have breakfast in bed. More champagne for the happy couple."

He pulled Miles into his arms, and this time Miles didn't complain about the whiskery kisses.

At first, Miles wasn't really aware of the subtle changes in Phoenix since disbarment. It was little things. His temper was a little shorter, his wit a little sharper and more acidic. It was strange never seeing Phoenix in his cheap suits. He didn't laugh as much.

The real change was the way Phoenix made love. Not that it was bad to have a change after a happy year together, but it was like he was a completely different person. Before, he was almost like a puppy, touching and caressing and laughing. There was an experimental awkwardness that Miles happened to find incredibly endearing.

He thought the change was because they were used to one another's bodies now. He liked how Phoenix pushed, didn't ask permission. Murmured in his ear, "You like that, don't you?"

He did.

But Phoenix never let him repay, only ever wanted to control. He no longer gave way, stammering and flustering, when Miles pushed him back on the bed. That's when Miles realized the truth. This wasn't some sort of comfortable sex. Phoenix was hungry, out to prove something. I'm just as good as I was before I lost everything, aren't I? I'm better. You like this.

He didn't.

In the afterglow, Phoenix held him tightly. His damp hair was starting to settle into soft spikes. Miles touched his back, his shoulders. Features he memorized long ago. "You're beautiful." He accidentally spoke the sentiment aloud.

"Every girl I know would argue you're the pretty one of us," said Phoenix, giving Miles a squeeze.

"Except Iris."

"Maybe."

After a long pause, Miles said, "I'm glad you said yes." He played with Phoenix's fingers, traced the simple band of the wedding ring.

"I'm glad you asked. I can't believe how drunk you were. I'm glad you don't regret it. You never struck me as the type to want to get married in Vegas."

"I want to spend my whole life with you, and once you said yes, I wanted to make our union official as soon as I could," said Miles. "What's there to regret?"

Their first fight as a married couple was congruous to their first lunch as a married couple. They were sitting in a restaurant, looking over the menus. The décor was modern and minimalist. Phoenix immediately commented on it – he loved the lines and bright colors. Miles found the place rather obnoxious, like being inside a vending machine.

"Miles," said Phoenix in a stage whisper. "This place is awfully expensive."

"Don't worry, I'll get it. You mentioned you were in the mood for sushi, and I read this chef--"

"No," said Phoenix. "I can pay my half, it's just. We've had this conversation before. Things are even tighter for me than when I was a lawyer, and I don't want you to—"

Miles silenced him by clasping both his hands in his own. "What's mine is yours now. I'll take care of you."

"What if I don't want to be taken care of?"

"Then I don't know what to say. Isn't it proper for me to take care of you, as your husband?"

"What is this, the 1950s?"

A waitress in what looked like a stewardess uniform took their order. Miles ordered a sushi platter, the most expensive thing on the menu. Phoenix went red and pulled back in his seat, breaking Miles' grasp.

"Did you order that just to spite me?"

"You wanted sushi."

"You're being a dick."

"I'm being a good husband."

"Do you think buying things is more important than listening to me?"

Miles hated this, the way they spoke in hushed tones. He thought suddenly of being taught to fold his napkin in his lap, of tense conversations and Franziska kicking him under the table. He welcomed the distraction from the conversation of his adoptive parents.

"Don't argue with me, I'm the one with the means to do this, so please let me. Don't embarrass me."

Which is exactly what Manfred always said.

The way Phoenix looked at him he must have known it. "This is one of your 'everything must be perfect or the world's gonna blow up' issues, isn't it?" He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "If you keep up like this, we're never going to talk on an equal level. We're going to crash and burn."

"If you'd just accept I'm going to pay for you, we wouldn't have this issue."

"So you're asking me to give up my pride, basically." Phoenix sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you think marriage is all about, anyway?"

"You've given me so much. You saved me. I want to return that favor. Forever."

Miles was surprised at the glint of anger in Phoenix's eyes at those words. "And if I don't need saving?"

"You're not serious. Your life's fallen apart since you were disbarred. I know defending was your dream, and losing it has hurt you a lot. Now you've unwisely adopted a child with no plans and no money and a dubious career at best. You definitely need saving." Miles straightened his shirt cuffs and leveled Phoenix with his most serious gaze.

Phoenix's laugh sent a cold stab of pain into Miles's gut. "So you married me to save me."

"When you put it that way…"

"Miles Edgeworth, you are a piece of work. If I were a woman I'd call you a sexist pig, but since I'm not, I guess I'll just settle for condescending asshole. Upper-class people are always the same. You think I'm so pathetic because I can't drop a hundred dollars on lunch, and you think that money's going to solve all of my problems. My world doesn't work like that, Miles."

"You are the one," said Miles through clenched teeth, "That taught me to accept help from those who love me."

"Having your friends support you isn't the same as becoming financially dependent on someone. Married or not, I refuse to do that. What the hell would Trucy think of me if she saw that I leeched off you all the time? What kind of example would I be setting? See, Trucy, it's good to be self-reliant. Unless you find a sugar daddy!"

Phoenix slapped his hand on the table, making Miles jump. He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Please calm down."

They were silent as the waitress put the platter on the table. Neither of them touched the food.

"I thought this is what you wanted," said Miles after a moment.

"You haven't the slightest idea what I want, do you? Sometimes I wonder if you know me at all."

"I wonder myself," Miles mumbled.

Phoenix looked at Miles like he'd been slapped. He tugged his napkin off his lap and tossed it on the table. "I'm going to play the tables for a bit," he snapped. "See you back at the hotel."

Miles watched Phoenix disappear into the crowded casino just outside the restaurant door. He called the waitress over and ordered some sake.

Miles came back to the hotel room more than a little tipsy and prepared to continue the fight. He'd never felt such dread before, not even on nights he disappointed Manfred. Instead the smoky, cranky Phoenix he expected, he was greeted by the smell of roses. Every free surface of the room held a bouquet except the bed. Phoenix was whistling in the bathroom. Miles found his husband carefully gelling his hair.

"Phoenix," Miles gasped.

Not only was Phoenix wearing a tuxedo, but he'd shaved as well. Phoenix grinned and gave Miles a quick hug and kiss. "Hi, baby."

"It's gorgeous. You're gorgeous. How did you—"

"I won a couple poker games. I figured I'd splurge a little. I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. I'm sorry about how I acted earlier. I guess I'm pretty sore about the financial thing, but we'll work something out so it's fair, won't we?"

"You shaved," said Miles, still trying to catch up to the news. He stroked Phoenix's cheek.

"C'mon, is it really that bad the other way?" Phoenix teased. Before Miles had a chance to answer, he said, "I rented you a tux too. We gotta get ready in time to get a cab over to the show."

Their second night of marriage was even more perfect than their first. This time, the evening didn't cumulate with a Steel Samurai impersonator threatening to throw water on them if they didn't stop making out long enough to say their vows. It ended with a long kiss in front of a display of fountains. Then, back at the hotel room, Miles thanked Phoenix explicitly in every way he knew how. He held desperately to the bucking form of Phoenix as they shouted their release to the never-ending neon lights of Vegas, knowing a night like this might never come again.

On the evening of their return, Miles made excuses to go to the office before returning home. Phoenix resisted, citing tiredness and "You work too goddamn much, Miles, can't it wait until morning?" As was typical Miles got his way eventually, and opened the door to his darkened office. Phoenix sighed and groped for the light switch.

"Surprise!"

Miles watched Phoenix face anxiously for a response. Everything he'd done since proposing as far more spontaneous than Phoenix was used to, but he hoped it would make his husband happy. Phoenix was momentarily stunned, then happy, looking over the crowd who gathered to give their congratulations. Trucy ran up and he gave her a hug, whirling her around.

"Congratulations, daddy! Congratulations, Miles!"

As Miles finished giving Trucy a hug as well (stiff, but Trucy promised he was getting better at it), he saw something hard cross Phoenix's features. It was a fleeting moment, but one Miles didn't understand. Everyone here was a friend: Maya and Pearl had come up from Kurain, Trucy in tow; Detective Gumshoe had made it with Maggey Byrde by his side; Adrian was all smiles and even Franziska looked a little bit merry; Kristoph Gavin and Will Powers were good friends of Phoenix's; Larry was… well, Larry. Miles found Phoenix's hand.

"Do you like it?"

Phoenix smiled disarmingly, squeezing Miles's hand between both of his. "I didn't think you were the type to pull something like this together. Even Kristoph is here."

"He's been of great help, actually. Even though I hadn't met him yet, you've been friends for quite awhile so I thought you'd want him here. I got his number from his brother and he was more than happy to help set up the whole thing." Miles was pleased with himself for being that observant, but underneath, for some reason he felt a little nervous. Did he do something wrong? He couldn't shake the feeling that Phoenix was putting him on.

Phoenix let go of Miles to go speak with Kristoph. "Kristoph, you really outdid yourself. What kind of cake is it? It looks amazing."

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little something I picked up."

Miles allowed his attention to drift to the other guests, though he really didn't want it to. "Look at that fancy cake, pal!" Gumshoe enthused. "That's a month's salary, at least!"

It was a beautiful cake, clearly from a specialty shop. It was a wedding cake in miniature, adorned with magenta and deep blue roses. There was ribbon and latticework in gold. Though Miles enjoyed the aesthetics, he couldn't help but think it was the sort of thing that Phoenix would usually complain was too fancy for his own good. Then again, perhaps Phoenix and Kristoph just didn't have the sort of friendship where Phoenix would outright say so. Or maybe he'd grown enough manners not to insult such a wonderful gift.

"One time, I was supposed to bring a cake for my sister's baby shower…"

Miles looked over to Phoenix as Maggey rambled on one of her trademark hard-luck stories. He was still chatting with Kristoph, even as Trucy tugged his sleeve for attention. He'd never seen Phoenix so reserved. With his friends, he was usually laughing. Then again, Phoenix simply didn't laugh as much as he used to since disbarment.

"…And I ended up sitting in the cake! So not only did I ruin the cake, I ruined the dress I borrowed! What a mess."

"Look at him, staring at his husband in adoration."

"An utterly foolish fool in love."

Miles was drawn from his reverie by two beautiful women walking arm-in-arm. "Franziska. Adrian. Thank you for making it on such short notice." He offered the two a smile, which was returned in double.

"Herr Gavin is very organized, and he speaks good German."

"I'd never met him," Miles murmured.

"Really? The way he went on, he and Phoenix are best friends," said Adrian. She glanced to Franziska; suddenly worried she might have said the wrong thing.

Franziska paused. She looked at Miles, then at Phoenix and Kristoph, then back at Miles again. "I'm sure they'll spend lots of time together now that they're married. After all, my little brother is often without social graces."

"When the heck are we gonna eat this cake?" Maya shouted over the quiet din of the party.

"I suppose that's my cue," said Miles, stepping over to where Phoenix and Kristoph conversed at the cake. Bored with trying to get her daddy's attention, Trucy had wandered off to entertain the other guests at the party.

Kristoph smiled at Miles. "So this is the man who holds the keys to Phoenix Wright's heart." He offered a hand to shake, the light glinting off his glasses. "Miles Edgeworth. It's a pleasure, a true pleasure."

"I'm glad to meet you as well, Mr. Gavin," said Miles. "I know you and Phoenix are close. You stood up for him at his hearing."

"Please, call me Kristoph. Phoenix is my friend, and so you are as well."

"Thank you, Kristoph," said Miles, put at ease by the man's manners. "That's very kind of you to say."

"The guests are starting to get restless," Phoenix broke in. "I think if we don't cut the cake, Maya will start a riot. She's already got Trucy and Larry on her side."

"I brought the knives," said Kristoph. "Are you two ready?"

They cut the cake to camera flashes and cheers. Phoenix smashed his bit of the cake all over Miles's face and it got on his suit, but Miles didn't care. In the company of friends old and new, he was greatly comforted. He was certain this was the beginning of something great.

"I really wish Kristoph hadn't gotten these glasses engraved. Then we could return them for something we could really use, like a coffee maker."

A few days after their surprise reception, Phoenix and Miles sat in the apartment they now shared sorting through their wedding gifts. It was not how either of them wanted to spend their last day of impromptu vacation, but such was the necessary evil of domesticated life. Miles glanced up from the coupon book that was a gift from Gumshoe and Maggey and raised an eyebrow.

"You want to keep the giant magatama from Sister Bikini but a pair of engraved crystal champagne glasses you want to return? Am I hearing you correctly?"

"Well, we can't return them because they're engraved. So I guess that means we're keeping them. Besides, that magatama is an item of great cultural significance. These are just glasses, you've got a million of them already. But you don't have coffee maker, and you hate mine."

"It's a cheap eyesore. I threw it out, I'll buy you a new one if you must have your coffee."

A thick and dreadful silence hung in the air.

"That was Mia's coffee maker," Phoenix said after a moment. "And it was still perfectly fine." He stood up and Miles felt weighted, stumbled to stand. "If you didn't want it, I would've kept it at the office."

"Phoenix, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I can get you one just like it for the office if you want it…"

"Forget it. It doesn't matter. I gotta take Trucy to the Wonder Bar for her set."

"She doesn't need to be there for another two hours."

"It's clear on the other side of town from here, and you know how the buses are. Wouldn't be good for her to be late." Phoenix smiled and Miles wanted to slap him.

"I'll give you a ride."

"It's fine. Don't waste the gas. Trucy! You got your shoes on and stuff?" Phoenix called down the hall. He disappeared for a few moments, helping Trucy to get ready. He returned with his little top-hat wearing wonder.

"Phoenix, what is wrong with you lately? You're being… I hate to say it, but you're being a jerk."

Phoenix patted Trucy's shoulder, smiling. "Trucy, honey, why don't you wait for me downstairs?"

"Okay daddy," said Trucy, trying to remain cheerful as she cast a suspicious glance at Miles. "But hurry up or we'll miss the bus! Bye Miles!"

"Bye, Trucy," Miles stammered.

In the moment it took for Trucy to close the door Phoenix crossed the room, inches from Miles's face. "Don't you ever insult me in front of Trucy like that again. She's had it hard enough without worrying about what's going on between us. If you make her cry, so help me, I'll…"

"You'll what?" Miles hissed.

Phoenix stepped back. Took a slow, deep breath. Calming.

"What is going on with you lately? Why won't you just let me give you a ride? You're so damn stubborn."

Phoenix looked up and something about his eyes almost made Miles cry. "You used to like that about me." Without saying another word, he walked out the door.

That night, after Phoenix returned and put a sleepy Trucy to bed, Miles asked Phoenix to meet with him in the kitchen. "I want to show you a magic trick. It's no Mr. Hat, but I think it's an alright trick."

On the kitchen counter sat Mia's coffee maker, happily dripping away. It was dented and worn, but it gave the kitchen an overall friendlier atmosphere. "See? I made something that disappeared reappear."

"Miles, how did you…"

"It's a testament to Detective Gumshoe's skills as a dumpster diver. With his help, I was able to locate it and retrieve it. And yes, I cleaned it as well."

Phoenix hugged Miles fiercely. "You didn't have to."

"Yes I did."

"Thank you."

No more was said just then. They were too busy expressing relief with kisses and bites, with tension and release. It was the best they'd had lately, and in the tangled, naked heap of afterglow, they sighed. Phoenix pulled the covers up closer around them and rested his head against Miles's shoulder.

"I'm sorry I got so bent out of shape about the coffee maker. I know it's stupid; it's just an appliance. I just miss Mia so much sometimes. I didn't expect being married to be such a challenge, but sometimes I just want advice… Will and Larry are useless for that kind of thing, so is Maya really, so… I feel a little lonely, I guess. I really miss her."

"What about Kristoph?"

Phoenix shifted to look at him, frowning a little. "What about him?"

"Why can't you ask him for advice?" Miles touched his jaw line. He really wished Phoenix would shave more often, but it was a fight he gave up on.

Phoenix yawned and returned to snuggling him. "I guess I never really thought about it."

"That hat is ridiculous."

Over and over again Miles thought that phrase. Couldn't bring himself to say it. Phoenix was fond of the electric-blue monstrosity, a gift from his friend Ema. It became a mantra, cycling in his mind until it drove him to near madness. As their little arguments continued – they seemed to agree on nothing, from details of Phoenix and Trucy moving in to whether or not they should formally announce their marriage – the phrase played in his mind. Miles never spoke it. Knew somehow it was a deal-breaker that would grind everything to a halt. And so the words spun around his mind, gaining centrifugal force until one day he had no choice but to spit them out or be killed.

It rained that day. The gloominess of autumn was setting in. Phoenix was sitting by the window, drinking coffee and lost in his thoughts.

"Where's Trucy?" Miles came back from hanging his coat in the bathroom.

"Across the street having dinner with the Hackins kids."

"Did she take an umbrella?"

"Mmhm." Phoenix sipped his coffee.

"You're going to meet Kristoph for dinner before work tonight, right? I don't need to cook."

"Yeah, as usual," Phoenix murmured.

"Dressed like that?"

"As usual," said Phoenix, thinning his lips.

"Kristoph doesn't feel insulted by your appearance? When I go out with Adrian and Franziska, I know it's casual but I still try and…"

"I think you're the only person who ever feels insulted by my appearance." Phoenix didn't turn to look at Miles.

"I never—"

"Phoenix, don't wear your hat in the house. Phoenix, I wish you would shave a little more often. Phoenix, honestly, flip flops?" Phoenix did an impression of Miles that was less than complimentary. "You talk to me like I'm a kid."

"You act like one, being sarcastic like that. And can you blame me for pushing you? You could have any number of civilized jobs and instead you choose to murder pianos and get paid for gambling. It's like you don't care what you look like to anyone."

"I told you, desk jobs don't suit me." Phoenix turned to face Miles, leaning against the windowsill. He smiled wanly. Miles ground his teeth.

"That's fine, but what about Trucy? How do you think it feels for her, seeing you like this? Knowing you're dependent on me? I thought that's what you wanted to avoid."

"If you recall, I offered to help with rent and you refused. You went out and bought Trucy new clothes without talking to me about it – it wasn't a case of me not being able to afford some for her, she's going through a growth spurt and she doesn't need a closet full of clothes that won't fit her in a month. Just because I don't go spending money like it's always gonna be there doesn't mean I'm broke. I'm not dependent on you." Phoenix laid out his case brusquely and firmly. Miles was reminded of facing off with him in court and felt a pang of sickening nostalgia. He never wanted Phoenix to speak to him that way in their personal life. It hurt. Not because Miles was losing to him, but because of what it meant. Phoenix sipped his coffee and set it down on an end table. "Anyway, how I dress when I see Kristoph is none of your business."

"Why are you so strange about him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never introduced me to him. You never invite him over. You don't like the gift he gave us and you say you don't ask him for advice. What's going on between you, exactly?"

"I'm not sure what you're angling at." Phoenix's voice was flat, giving away no emotion.

"Why don't you like the glasses? They're perfectly lovely."

"I feel like he's making fun of me, I guess," Phoenix mumbled. "Because they're so expensive and stuff, and he could get them at the last minute."

"I'm rather touched that he thought so much of us to have something like that done. It shows that he truly cares for us as a couple."

"Somehow, I don't think that's the case." Phoenix picked up the coffee again, drinking.

"Then what is the case?"

"Sorry?"

"What's going on between you two?"

Phoenix set the mug down. "I'm not sure I like how you phrased that, like you're suspicious of something. It's me, Miles. Your husband."

"You're hiding something from me."

"What would I have to hide from you?"

"Whatever is really going on between you two. Are you having an affair?"

Phoenix straightened out his hat, an oddly calm sort of fidget. "Do you want the long answer or the short answer?"

Miles crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Let's begin with the short answer and move onto the long one if it's necessary."

"The short answer is hell no, I'm not having an affair with him."

"You've never had sex with Kristoph?"

"The idea makes me want to vomit." Phoenix smiled and Miles was sure he'd scream.

"Nor kissed him?"

"I'll throw up if you keep speaking of him in that capacity."

Miles hugged himself tightly. "I don't believe you."

"I can't help that, can I? You not believing me." Still smiling. Miles was fighting a losing war with his temper.

"Maybe if you acted in a way that was a little more assuring," Miles spoke through gritted teeth.

"You mean I acted like I did when I was a lawyer. Like it or not, things have changed. I've changed. I thought you would still love me, but you know, I've been thinking. I've been thinking you loved who I was when I was a lawyer, when I was dedicated to finding you and saving you. Now that I've got my own problems, and Trucy to look after… do you really love me at all? Or do you resent me because my world doesn't revolve around you anymore?"

Miles was stunned to silence.

"We might've been doomed from the start, anyway, even if all of that hadn't happened. We're too different. We came from two entirely different places."

"I thought that didn't matter to you," Miles could barely get out the strangled words.

"And I thought it didn't matter to you," said Phoenix, "But you're always picking at me. Money, manners, my hat, there's just no room for compromise for you."

"That hat," Miles growled, as if a single item of clothing could be responsible for all of their dysfunction, "Is ridiculous."

Phoenix's expression didn't change at all. It was still cold and contained. Yet the words hung in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate, and Miles knew somehow speaking those words would end everything.

"I have to go meet Kristoph now," said Phoenix, not looking at Miles as he went for the door.

"Don't forget your umbrella," Miles said numbly.

The last night of Miles Edgeworth's marriage to Phoenix Wright started with a splitting headache. It was Miles's own fault for trying to finish more than half a bottle of red wine on an empty stomach. He still couldn't hold his alcohol.

He was attempting to sleep off his regrets on the living room couch when Phoenix came in, smelling like cigarettes and borscht as usual. How Miles hated those smells.

"Trucy in bed?"

"I tucked her in about 20 minutes ago." Miles draped his arm over his eyes. "Ugh, don't turn on the light."

Phoenix left it off. He sat next to Miles on the couch. "You've been drinking."

"So have you."

"But I always do at work. What's wrong?"

"I took the job."

"Job?"

"The one I refused last month. The one in Germany, researching the jurist system."

"Oh. So I guess my offer of couple's therapy is off, then, huh?" Phoenix combed his fingers through Miles hair. He sounded relieved.

"You never offered that."

"Not yet."

"You weren't going to."

"Probably not."

"We never even mailed in our marriage certificate to the state, so we don't have to file for divorce."

"Good," said Phoenix with faint humor. "I hate lawyers."

Sitting up was painful, but Miles did it anyway. "I love you. What you said today scared me. I don't want to grow to hate you, but you're driving me crazy."

"I'm sorry," said Phoenix, cupping his chin. He kissed Miles sincerely. "I love you too."

"Then why isn't this working?"

"Things don't always happen the way you want them to. Besides, you were really excited about this job. So go for it. Have a blast reading lots of dusty German books. Maybe you'll find a dusty German librarian who's into sports cars and cravats."

Miles threw his arms around Phoenix; biting back the tears he knew he had no way of avoiding. "I don't want someone like that, I want you!"

"No you don't," Phoenix sighed. "Not like this. Come on, let me put you to bed."

And he did. For once, Miles was grateful for the way that Phoenix took charge and said so little. They made love slowly, together yet separate. If Phoenix showed sensitivity beyond kissing away Miles's tears, the whole thing would have delved into the realm of tragedy.

In the very early morning, Miles was awakened by a crashing sound in the kitchen. Phoenix was awake and half nude, maddened in the fluorescent light. He had in his hands the box containing two engraved glasses, the wedding present from Kristoph. He threw it on the ground a second time, then took a frying pan and beat the box to an unrecognizable shape. The crystal inside was likely reduced to fine dust.

Tears streaked down his face, but Phoenix made no sound except the occasional sniff. His look was one of grim determination. Miles stood in the doorway watching until Trucy tugged at his arm.

"What's wrong with daddy?"

"Daddy's a little upset," Miles whispered, taking Trucy's hand. "Let's go back to bed. I'll tell you a story."

In the story, the prince found Rapunzel even after wandering around for years in the desert, blinded by the witch. Trucy fell asleep with a contented smile. Miles stroked her back and wondered who first thought it was a good idea to tell such bullshit to children.

Miles and Phoenix didn't see each other for years after Miles left. They kept in contact and wrote each other. Miles sent Trucy many gifts and postcards from Germany, and even more still as he traveled Europe for his work. They were purposefully quiet on all manners romantic or personal in their letters. Neither of them dared to ask what they really wondered: Are you feeling as rotten as I do, or have you found someone new?

Miles came back after six years abroad to find these headlines: "Former Ace Attorney Phoenix Wright Found Innocent Again." Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Neither was he surprised that despite his position, Phoenix was the driving force behind getting the jurist system implemented. After returning to the prosecutor's office, Miles quickly became involved in the project as well. They ended up working late nights together, always very certain to sit at a professional distance.

One night, Miles grabbed Phoenix's hand without thinking. "You're still wearing the ring."

Phoenix gingerly pulled his hand away. "So I am. Huh. Guess my finger must've swollen around it." He smiled. "Never mind that, we've got work to do."

"Right. Sorry." Miles nodded, and they went back to business.

Phoenix didn't say he noticed Miles still wore his as well. Then again, he really didn't need to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Those were the first words out of Miles's mouth the day the truth came out about Kristoph. They were descending the steps of the courthouse after Vera Misham was acquitted. "Phoenix – wait – slow down!"

Phoenix stopped, urged Apollo and Trucy to go on to the hospital without him. "What's wrong, Miles?" He was giving that infuriating grin again.

"Why didn't you tell me about Kristoph?"

"You didn't ask."

"I did too, you liar!"

"Not the right questions. I never lied to you."

"All these years, I can't believe you. I simply cannot. You have no idea how much I wish to slap that stupid grin right off your face."

Phoenix chuckled. "You're free to. Apollo says it's very liberating to punch me. But I'd recommend somewhere out of view of the cameras."

Oh. Right. There was quite the media frenzy around the jurist system. It wouldn't look good for the two men who made it happen to suddenly resort to battery. Miles stood there, clenching his fists and glaring at Phoenix on the courthouse steps. He suddenly felt awash with nostalgia.

"Come by the office in the evening, okay? I'll be waiting for you. And your slap."

When Miles greeted Phoenix that night, it was with a kiss instead of a slap. After so many years, somehow it felt exactly the same as the day they got married, stubble digging into his chin and all. He pulled away after a long moment.

"Miles," Phoenix breathed.

"I am still so angry with you," said Miles, stepping inside.

"And you have every right to be. Coffee?"

Mia's little coffee maker worked as well as ever. Miles smiles at the sight of it and sat down on the couch. Phoenix poured them coffee in mismatched mugs and added sugar and cream, the way Miles liked his.

They drank their coffee in giddy silence.

"Do you remember the Engarde case?" Phoenix finally spoke up.

"When Maya was kidnapped? How could I forget?"

"We were lucky. We almost lost her."

"But we didn't. Because we all pulled together on the case. Remember? Your friends, we all came to help you."

Phoenix sat back, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "I never trusted Kristoph from the start. The way he wanted to be so close to me. I mean, defending me at my hearing? It was an obvious play to get on my good side. I wouldn't have defended me."

"So why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you. Gumshoe could've helped you. Franziska too."

"I didn't have any proof. It was my word against his, and all I had was a gut suspicion. And someone twisted up enough to use forged evidence to win cases. Someone who wanted to use forged evidence to beat his own brother in court – and then manipulated the kid instead when I ended up taking the case." Phoenix pulled off his hat, setting it on the table. Miles smoothed his fingers through the flattened spikes, listening.

"The whole thing was pretty creepy. And I kept thinking about how Matt Engarde played everyone for a fool until the last minute, and his decisions almost turned out deadly. Then again, for all his plotting, he still screwed up. I knew something like that would happen with Kristoph. I just couldn't risk anything happening to you or Trucy, or anyone else. So I kept it a secret until I did know."

"That must have hurt a lot," Miles said quietly. "Having to shoulder that secret on your own."

"Losing you hurt worse. I'm so sorry. I closed myself off from you. That wasn't right."

They didn't speak for a while, each meditating these revelations.

"Did you really mean what you said, that we might've been doomed from the start?" Miles asked.

"I don't know," Phoenix admitted. "Sometimes it really felt that way. We're both so stubborn."

"That's what I like about you. I like that you don't back down when I get bossy."

Phoenix smiled, stroking Miles's cheek with a knuckle. "And I like making you flustered because I won't back down when you're bossy."

"I love you. Even if you're really frustrating." Miles kissed him then, lingeringly.

"I love you too. Even if you're really uptight."

Miles stood up, and somehow managed to kneel in the cramped space of the office. "Phoenix Wright, will you marry me?"

"Miles Edgeworth," said Phoenix. He took Miles's hand and kissed where the wedding band still sat. "I already did."