Wrapped up in an oversized jacket, Phoenix sent him an exhausted grin. He walked past the security gate, moving forward until his head came to rest on Miles' shoulder. "That flight went on forever," he sighed, rubbing his stubbled face against Miles' neck.
Grimacing at the abrasion, Miles pulled him back gently, enough to take in the bags under Phoenix's eyes and the way he looked dead on his feet. "It does seem that way," he agreed, taking Phoenix's hand and tugging him along. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long to collect his luggage. "Let's get you back to the hotel. You can sleep all day if you want." The only flight Phoenix had been able to take from Los Angeles to London was overnight, meaning he was going to be tired and jetlagged, and incapable of following Miles' conversation.
"Sounds good," Phoenix mumbled.
Sure enough, Phoenix walked in the door, shed the outer layer of his clothes, and collapsed onto the bed. He was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.
A fond smile crossing his lips, Miles took off Phoenix's shoes and pulled the blanket up to his neck, before flicking off the light and shutting the door. There would be plenty of time to talk once Phoenix was awake and coherent.
Making himself comfortable on the couch, Miles loaded his laptop, adjusted the pen on top of his notebook, and returned to the research that had prompted his call to Phoenix in the first place.
Since Phoenix's disbarment, Miles' research into foreign legal systems had turned from professional interest to personal. He had thrown himself into learning the minutiae of foreign legal systems, committed to finding a solution; both to Phoenix's missing badge and to the inherent corruption in the Los Angeles legal system.
His search had led him to a variety of locations, eventually culminating in Scotland; where he discovered the High Court of Justiciary. Up until April 20, 2020, the High Court of Justiciary had been Scotland's supreme criminal court. What had interested Miles the most, was that Scotland had operated under Scottish law, which allowed criminals to be tried in front of a judge and jury. Instead of power being solely in the judge's hand, the jury could vote, returning three possible verdicts; guilty, not guilty and not proven, the latter two resulting in acquittal.
The concept of a jury had spurred Miles into action, and he'd spent three months combing the archives of the High Court of Justiciary looking for more information. This was what he'd been searching for; a way to take power out of one pair of hands and place it back into the hands of the people. With a jury, they could more efficiently re-try cases, and a second opinion could prevent a retrial that had been bought and paid for by those who wanted a certain outcome. By choosing twelve people at random to vote on a case, they could better guarantee an accurate trial, or at the very least, remove the overwhelming threat of mistrial or corrupt judges.
Miles made a note in his notebook, wanting to compare German inquisitorial law to English judging. It had been an idle thought he'd had the other day. Judges in Germany tended to conduct most of the investigations themselves, and they were the ones who questioned witnesses first, instead of relying on a cross-examination between prosecutor and defense attorney. He wondered if having more active judges would complement a jurist system, or if it would simply allow for more bias. He made another note to ring Franziska and discuss this with her later, once she was finished her current mission with Interpol.
When he'd learned as much as he could from the archives, he followed the dusty trail of information to London, now the main seat of power for the United Kingdom. Prior to 2020, the United Kingdom had featured three separate legal systems; English law, Scots law and Northern Ireland law. After April 20, 2020, however, the London Parliament had overturned the three legal systems and put into place the United Kingdom legal system, which borrowed elements from Los Angeles and Japan, including the removal of a jury and implementing of the three day trial system.
This is why he'd brought Phoenix to London; to share the information he'd gathered on the jury system. Phoenix tended to alternate between desperate belief that they'd find a way to get his badge back, and complete and utter apathy, so Miles only summoned him when he had concrete plans. Now he had one.
The two of them didn't need to completely overhaul the Los Angeles legal system; they just needed to introduce a new element to turn the tables. His plans for an overhaul of the LA legal system involved splicing various elements from different legal systems into one cohesive whole, eliminating corruption and restoring the people's belief in truth. It would take time, and they would have to convince the people in power; particularly the Prosecutorial Investigation Committee, the Bar Association, and those in positions of power within the law; Chief Prosecutor and Chief of Police, particularly.
With that in mind, Miles had turned his attention to studying the ins and outs of the jurist system, wanting to learn the contradictions and solve them, so they could present Los Angeles with a watertight reason why they should even try using the jurist system to begin with.
Miles ran a hand through his silver hair, noting with some confusion that his eyes had started burning. The words on the screen were starting to blur, though that could be the result of his own late nights. Regardless, he forced his attention back to his notes on juries. He believed that a jury was the key to ending what the press referred to as 'The Dark Age of the Law'. If they could successfully pull off a high-profile trial with the aid of a jury, they could push for it to be re-implemented, and thus begin the road to recovery.
"Mmm, whatcha doing?" Phoenix mumbled from the doorway, rubbing his eyes. His other hand rested against the wall, his thick blue sweater pulled down over his hands to fight off the chill. His socked feet made no noise as he padded over to Miles, plonking himself down on the couch next to him and glancing at the computer screen.
Miles stared at him, wondering what had prompted Phoenix's awakening. Normally it took him at least eight hours to be functional again, after international flights. Granted, he barely looked awake, but he was forming sentences. Glancing at his laptop's clock, Miles was astounded to find it had already been six hours since he'd put Phoenix to bed. Grimacing, he put the laptop down and ran a hand over his eyes. No wonder they were starting to burn. "I was researching the jurist system, and comparing the current United Kingdom legal system to the three that preceded it. While they've chosen to adopt the three day trial system, I believe we could benefit by bringing back the jurist system, and proving why the three day system is flawed. By trying our cases in front of-" He broke off, noticing Phoenix's glazed eyes. "Ah, perhaps we could discuss this later. Are you hungry?" Food might be the only thing that dragged Phoenix from bed.
Phoenix shook his head, falling sideways until he was curled up against Miles. "Woke up and you weren't there," he said against Miles' chest.
"That's normal, considering we live in different locations." Miles frowned at him. When Phoenix had called him to confess his disbarment, Miles was ready to drop everything and move back to LA, his only thought being with Phoenix in this dark time. Phoenix had immediately stopped him, explaining the chain of events fully and intimating that there was something going on behind the scenes, something he intended to investigate. He didn't want Miles caught in the crossfire, and had said as much. Miles had reluctantly agreed, though it hurt to know he couldn't be there to support Phoenix. Throwing himself into his research, now burning with purpose and a goal, he'd offered for Phoenix to call any time he needed to talk. Which lead to many late night conversations, Miles desperate for a way to erase the bitterness from Phoenix's voice.
Now Phoenix didn't sound bitter. He just sounded tired. "I miss you," he admitted. "Please? Just lie there next to me. Just for a little while." He lifted his head enough to blink sleepy blue eyes at Miles, his brows pulled together and mouth open slightly.
Unable to refuse, Miles stood up and pulled Phoenix to his feet. "Alright," he agreed quietly. At this rate, both of their sleep schedules would be backwards. Not that Miles tended to get much sleep per night, but he knew Phoenix would suffer from it. He made a note to wake Phoenix up in the early afternoon, just so he could go back to sleep at a reasonable hour.
Phoenix once again fell asleep instantly, his head on Miles' chest and his arm thrown around Miles' waist. He always did that; wrapped himself around Miles like he was afraid Miles would disappear.
Miles let his hands wander through Phoenix's hair, enjoying the warmth of the body pressed against his own. His own body started to relax, though his mind remained active, connecting thoughts and circling around their problems. He pressed a kiss to Phoenix's temple. Even if he wasn't prone to vocalising his thoughts, he missed Phoenix when they were apart. To that end, he made another mental note to ask Phoenix if he wanted to go sightseeing in the morning. Miles spent all of his free time either in the local law offices or archives, or in his hotel or apartment studying. It would be a nice change to get out, and take his boyfriend to all the tourist destinations.
The London Eye was out, due to Phoenix's fear of heights, but they could visit Westminster Abbey or Big Ben. Miles frowned at the ceiling. Would either of those even interest Phoenix? He knew the British Museum was currently holding a special exhibition on Egypt, something that piqued his interest, though he found it hard to believe Phoenix would care. If it had been art, perhaps. In the morning, Miles would ask, providing the weather didn't interrupt, as it was prone to doing of late. He reached for his phone, intending to check the weather forecast for the next day, only to remember it was in his jacket. His jacket was slung over the back of the chair in the kitchen, and out of reach due to his current position. Fine, he'd just have to check once Phoenix woke up again.
Phoenix didn't stir again until late afternoon, and from there they had a light discussion about the events of their lives. Trucy was blossoming in her magician studies, having acquired several new tricks and bringing in a larger audience than ever before. Phoenix shared a handful of stories about his time playing poker, and his suspicions about Kristoph Gavin's hand in his disbarment. Miles filled him in on the variety of locations he'd spent time in lately, and the few times he'd assisted Franziska and Interpol.
After a quick dinner, they'd retired for the night, Phoenix claiming he 'just wanted to be held', but which had turned into something more, of course. Phoenix was relentless once he set his mind to something.
The next morning, Miles disentangled himself from Phoenix's arms, careful not to wake the ex-lawyer. Early morning sunshine peeked through the gap in the curtains; a pale, sickly light that illuminated a tiny strip of the bed. Just enough light to pick out Phoenix's features, currently softened in repose. He found himself smiling, reaching out one hand to run his fingers through thick black hair.
Phoenix didn't stir. The events of last night, combined with his previous night's travel and resulting jetlag, would make it a miracle if he emerged before noon.
Despite the sunlight coming through, a chill hung in the air, prompting Miles to search for his clothes sooner rather than later.
Apparently, his red jacket was nowhere to be found, nor was his white dress shirt within reach. Leaving him standing in his pants, scowling around the room. The only shirt-like item in the room appeared to be Phoenix's grey hoodie, which lay crumpled at his feet. Rather than waste more time searching (and shivering), Miles picked up the well-worn item and slung it on. Apart from a slight pulling across the shoulders, it fit comfortably.
The material was unlawfully soft for such an ugly garment, he thought privately.
Of course, it would no doubt cause an argument when Phoenix eventually woke up and tried to reclaim his clothes. Until then, Miles was content to enjoy the early morning in peace and quiet.
Wandering into the kitchen, Miles gathered the ingredients for French toast and set to work making breakfast. If there was one thing guaranteed to summon his boyfriend from his bed, it was the smell of good food.
Sure enough, Phoenix emerged a few minutes later, sniffing the air. He rubbed his eyes and stared blearily at Miles. He'd found his shirt somehow. "Why are you awake so early?" he groaned, sitting at the bench and slipping his head forward onto his arms.
"Somebody has to be useful around here," Miles teased, placing two pieces of thick French toast on a plate, drizzling maple syrup over the top and garnishing with cinnamon. "Besides, I'm not the one who is completely useless after international flights." Placing the meal in front of Phoenix, he smirked. "Here," he announced, placing cutlery within Phoenix's reach. "Perhaps this will encourage you to function sooner rather than later.
Phoenix managed a smile, pulling himself up and grabbing his fork. "Mmm," he hummed, shoving a forkful in his mouth. His eyes slid closed, smile returning. "Good," he groaned, mouth still half full of food.
"Just eat," Miles sighed. Phoenix could compliment him after he was done eating. Or even able to function like a normal human being. It would be nice to finalise their plans for the day. He'd briefly mentioned his ideas the previous night, but whether Phoenix recalled them was another matter entirely.
Phoenix rested his head against his palm, lazily taking a bite. "So, what's on for today? Do we get to stand in court?"
The first few times Miles had invited Phoenix over, he'd roped him into standing next to him in court, being a part of the legal world without the drama. He could offer advice and still use his mind, just without the badge and standing on the wrong side of the room.
Phoenix had been hesitant to help at first, feeling awkward about unfamiliar places and destroyed by the way the courts had treated him. Miles had convinced him that even standing to the side and observing was better than wasting away. Even when Phoenix had agreed and made his first overseas appearance, Miles had offered to let him back out. Still, Phoenix had stayed, and found himself enjoying his time in foreign courts. Once Miles had started gathering his ideas for reforms, Phoenix's visits had turned to strategies and plots, and the best way to put their plan into action once the time came.
Shaking his head, Miles pointed a fork at him. "No court today. I've been spending my time researching the jurist system, before it was abolished by Parliament." Miles indicated his head towards the bench, where his laptop and notebook sat.
Phoenix picked up the notebook, flicking through it idly."The jurist system is the one where people vote, isn't it? The one you were telling me about over the phone?" He tapped a finger against the page, his finger underlying the words written there.
"Yes, that's right. I think it's our best chance to get a foot in the door. We won't change the legal system all at once, but we can do it piece by piece. I believe this is where we start." Miles outlined the sum of his research, the meticulous list of steps he'd crafted that would culminate in the end of the Dark Age of the Law. "Unfortunately, it's not going to happen overnight," Miles sighed. "Most likely, it will take years."
"More than it already has?" Phoenix said, resentment flavouring his words. He shook his head, holding up a hand to forestall Miles' protest. "Don't worry, I'm not giving up yet. Sometimes, I just get sick of this game." He slumped forward, head coming to rest against his arms again, one hand splayed on the bench.
"I know," he murmured, reaching out to link his fingers with Phoenix's. "All we can do is keep fighting." Miles looked at him, wishing he could erase the pain etched across Phoenix's face. "We have a chance now, and that's more than we had before." Any shred of hope mattered in these times.
Phoenix nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Miles." He sat up, his expression lightening. "Since you didn't answer me before, what are our plans for today?" he asked, drumming his fingers against the bench.
Standing up, Miles moved around until they were on the same side of the bench. "I was wondering if you would like to play tourist today. The British Museum is holding an exhibition on Egypt currently." He leaned against the back of Phoenix's chair, one hand resting on his hip.
Phoenix was looking at him, crooked eyebrows raised. "Sounds right up my alley," he said dryly, standing up and tilting his head, lips pursing as he weighed up the options. "You know," he said, shrugging, "going to the museum doesn't sound so bad. I can watch your face light up over all the weird information you'll learn." He delivered this statement with a cocky grin, eyes daring Miles to complain.
Miles hummed and closed the remaining distance between them. "Is that so?" His hands came to rest on Phoenix's hips, drawing him close enough to kiss. When they pulled apart, he stepped back and poked Phoenix on the forehead. "Well if you intend to come with me, you had best get ready."
"Speak for yourself," Phoenix ducked his head and rubbed a hand against his red neck. His mouth dropped open, his gaze zeroing in on Miles' chest. "Hey!" He glared, raising his eyes to meet Miles' gaze. "You're wearing my hoodie!"
Miles laughed, fiddling with one of the strings. "Oh, you finally noticed! I was beginning to wonder." He turned to walk away, sending a smirk over his shoulder. He was about to deliver a cutting remark when a bright flash lit up the room, followed by a loud booming noise. The heavy sound of rain hitting the roof filled the room. Miles sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead.
"Or we could just stay in," Phoenix chuckled, raising his eyebrows and waiting.
Miles scowled. "Yes, I meant to check the weather report last night, before I was distracted," he huffed. London weather! "Does that mean you don't want to go to the British Museum? The exhibit showing is about sunken cities! I'm sure you'll find something exciting to look at." Either option was fine with Miles. The Museum would still be there tomorrow, even if staying in was sounding more and more appealing.
"Knowing you," Phoenix groaned, his hand coming up to rest over Miles' heart. "It'll be a murder." He rubbed his head over Miles' collarbone, burrowing in again his neck.
Glaring at him, Miles ran a hand through Phoenix's hair. "I resent that! I don't find a body every time I leave a country," he insisted, his fingers clenching. So he'd been accused of murder on one flight...and returned to his office that night to find a body...and then there was the body in the boot of his car incident... Miles glared ferociously at the ceiling. "There have been plenty of times when I arrived without hassle," he sniffed, noting that they would need a shower before leaving.
Phoenix lifted his head, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "You sound so petulant," he snickered. "But that's okay, I love you anyway. No matter how many times trouble is attracted to you."
"You would know." Miles smirked to himself, waiting for the comment to hit home.
Phoenix glared at Miles, sticking out his tongue. "Hey, I am not trouble!" he whined, winding some of Miles' hair around his finger and yanking. "Besides, it's your own fault you're so damn attractive."
"Why thank you," Miles said brightly, bowing. "Now, have you decided? Staying in, or going out?" He held out his hands, spreading them in front of him like a fan.
"Staying in," Phoenix said decisively, punctuating his sentence by draping himself over the couch. "I'm tired and it's pouring rain. Staying in sounds much better." He adjusted his position, making himself comfortable.
Miles leaned over the arm of the couch, bringing his face in close. "I have to agree," he purred. The Museum could wait.
Phoenix laced his hands behind Miles' neck and pulled him closer for a kiss. "You look good in my hoodie," he grinned, eyes flashing. "But you'd look better out of it..."
"You're incorrigible," Miles told him, though he could feel his lips quirking up at the sides.
"That's why you love me." Phoenix grinned, unrepentant. His lips found Miles' again, warm and reassuring.
Caught up in the love and affection their reunion brought, Miles surrendered himself to the moment. Legal reforms could wait.
