Disclaimer: I own nothing that you see others than this pretty virilant plot bunny! Warnings of slash and angst, spoilers for Dual Destinies from the get go and apologies for any AAI plot points I miss but I've not yet gotten around to playing that!
"Daddy, you know I'll love you no matter what, right?"
It'd been an entirely out of place remark and several shades too serious surrounded, as they had been, by the somewhat riotous display of the local party supply store and, instantly on high alert he'd met his daughter's eyes and enquired,
"Sweetheart, what's the matter?"
A particularly expansive gesture of dismissal which, of course, further cements how much of an open book he'll always be when it comes to her and, smile again firmly in place she'd responded,
"No, it's ok daddy, I'm fine, I promise!...I just..." A subtle tilt to her head that'd suggested she'd been picking her next words carefully, then, "I'm here if you want to talk, ok?"
He'd tossed the phrase over and over in his head after that, worrying at it until, in a fit of desperation, he'd called Maya.
"Maybe she's caught a little of how tense you are over the whole Apollo thing." It'd actually been somewhat rational despite the reality of him phoning at silly am and he'd opened his mouth to thank her the indulgence only to be interrupted a yawn and an addition of, "though it's more likely that she's decided to cheat and use the 'poor innocent daughter' card to make sure she wins,"
"Wins what?"
"Oh...nothing, nothing...I'm just tired and babbling nonsense, pressures of the job and all." A bought of entirely fake sounding laughter and then he'd been very promptly hung up on.
He'd stared at the phone for a good minute after that trying, and failing, to wrap his head around what'd just happened while also attempting, once more with no success, to tell himself to just let the whole thing go.
Thankfully a particularly taxing case had landed in his lap precisely five hours later otherwise he's pretty certain he'd have driven himself crazy trying to blindly deduce what on earth was going on.
As it was it'd sort of ticked over in the background until he'd bumped into Gumshoe during recess and, feeling just the slightest bit guilty, he'd enquired,
"Detective you are aware that placing money into a pool, even one that's kept between friends, is considered a form of gambling, correct?"
Of course instantly the fear of yet another pay chop had swept over the other's face and, leaning inward in a conspiratorial manner, he'd whispered,
"Just clue me in then I'll make sure Maya returns whatever you put in and no one has to be any the wiser, ok?"
Fear becomes panic pretty instantly and after glancing once over each shoulder he'd enquired,
"Not even the chief prosecutor?"
Not 'mr edgeworth' which should have been hint enough to let ignorance be bliss, even without the shear randomness of specifying keeping the other out after he'd already promised complete silence and yet, stubborn as always, he'd instantly responded,
"I promise."
A sigh then,
"Everyone started making a guess on when you were finally going to come clean, just for fun to begin with, then Mr Butz said it might be more interesting if everyone put a little money down and one thing lead to another." A shy little smile then, "I didn't really want to get involved, I mean you're an honest enough guy and even Miss Trucy couldn't say anything for sure which means you've a really good reason for keeping silent, but then Miss Fey told me how much the pot had gotten up to and I was thinking if I won I could finally get a ring worthy of my Maggy..."
"Ok, firstly congratulations, detective, I can honestly say I've never seen two people more suited for one another than you and Miss Byrd, secondly, perhaps you could try that again in simpler terms for the sake of my sanity."
"We know about you and Mr Edgeworth, pal."
Just what, apparently, everyone knew was more than evident the detectives general tone and he'd just about gotten his head to work enough to ask 'why' when, in what was frankly the worst timing yet, the bailiff had appeared to call him back in.
In all honesty it'd been somewhat milder than some of the wild scenarios he'd likely have managed to conjure given enough time and the shear relief of that fact had allowed his head to click fully back onto the case for long enough to prove his client innocent.
Of course once back in the office he'd found everyone again caught up in their own thing and of course without anything else better to do his head had begun picking at the whole thing as though it was simply another case to solve.
Trucy had know he was bisexual since stumbling across the one, highly incriminating, photo he'd kept of the detective he'd rebounded onto after the whole Dahlia affair had blown up in his face; Larry knew that he found Edgeworth attractive, but he'd also told his friend that that was as far as it went, that wanting to date the other just because he was easy on the eyes made about as much sense as wanting to date a painting or sculpture for the same reasoning; He'd phoned Maya when Iris had asked him not to visit for a while, desperate to know if it was because she'd believed what the press was saying and if there was any hope in salvaging things yet again and been told, very calmly, that it was not that. That, apparently, he'd told everyone but the woman he supposedly loved that he was going to take Trucy in without ever realising he'd done as such.
For a moment the process of linking clues together slides to a haut and he remembers how much empathy he'd felt when she'd eventually agreed to see him again, how seeing her putting a brave face on wounds still so very fresh had not only made him determined to try just that little harder himself but also spilled a rather inelegant apology from his lips.
She'd smiled, softer than usual but with enough warmth to it that he knew it was more than simply mask for his sake and then,
"No, it's ok, you thought you'd told me because why wouldn't you, I mean I'm the girl you loved enough to swallow poison for, right?" A shaky breath and, eyes drifting to focus somewhere over his left shoulder, she'd added, "we've both grown up, Phoenix, become people other than we were back then and we both need to accept what that means for us...accept that the people we are now could never really be anything other than good friends and finally move on with our lives."
She'd been right, of course and so, for all that he'd fought a while to try and prove otherwise, eventually his heart had caught up with his head and that had been that.
What would he do if Edgeworth told him that he'd realised that their all be it tentative friendship was built on nothing more than nostalgia and that he'd decided to step away for closures sake?
That he'd taken a job somewhere up state or, worse, far far across the ocean and that he wasn't going to leave an address this time?
That it really was goodbye?
'Miles Edgeworth chooses death.'
The ghost of those words, the emptiness he'd felt on reading them the first time, in believing beyond doubt in the reality they represented, tightens about his heart and for the very first time he finds himself glad the solitude.
He can't imagine he'd be in any way comfortable to be around for any of the various 'talents' right now, after all.
In the end it's that thought, the simple concept that he might, once more, hurt someone without actually meaning to do as such, that has him reaching for the phone and, with a deep breath, dialling Edgeworth's office.