A/N: To repeat the summary: Larry gives interesting birthday gifts, especially when he gets Edgeworth involved.

I'm basing Phoenix's birthday in this on a couple of things: 1: It's never been officially listed, has it? So I can't be wrong until it is. Numba 2: The timeline at court-records.

Post T & T and AAI, pre-AJ (flashbacks n all), mild foreshadowing, perhaps. Plotless and generally pointless. This is where my mind goes when I'm trying to write actual fics in this fandom, apparently. Hopefully, it has some superficial entertainment value.

Pairings: None, really. Very brief hint of Phoenix/Iris, I guess. Also, what could be perceived as very mild Phoenix/Edgeworth.

Disclaimer: I don't own any Ace Attorney characters or anything else from the AA universe. Or anything else anybody may recognize. (See my post-fic blabber.)

Reviews are love.

Phoenix Wright sometimes thought he had the worst birthday ever. No, he wasn't referring to one single fiasco, or even a multitude of bad birthdays. Just the day itself brought disaster—demanded it. Then again, Phoenix imagined pretty much anyone born on April 1st shared his feelings on the matter. He vaguely remembered mentioning it to Larry one year, only to receive some of the man's so-called logic in return, served about as diplomatically as anyone who knew him would expect.

"What do you mean 'when am I gonna get you a real birthday present?' When are you gonna have a real birthday, huh? When, Nick? Tell me, buddy. I'm waitin'."

Phoenix had already received a most thoughtful gift from Iris: a hand-knit sweater. But he didn't anticipate having that kind of luck with anyone else in his circle of friends. He'd settle for normal, or even just something that wasn't a gag, or a safety hazard. What was it everyone always said about gifts...? It's better to give than it is to receive...? No, that wasn't it. Well, people said that, and Phoenix certainly believed it, at least around this time of year... But that wasn't it.

Hmm...

Before Phoenix could think much on it, something, or rather, someone broke his concentration, and nearly his door. It swung open quickly and with considerable force, as a grinning blond strode into Wright and Company.

Larry. Of course.

Phoenix stepped toward his friend—correction, friends. Edgeworth was there too, for some reason. Phoenix really wasn't expecting to see him anytime soon. They'd both been pretty busy, Edgeworth especially. He'd just helped bring down an international smuggling and counterfeiting operation, after all. Then he'd followed it up with prosecuting the ringleader for his crimes.

"Larry." Phoenix paused then glanced at Edgeworth, lips involuntarily curving up into a smirk. "Edgeworth."

He responded with a somewhat curt sounding, "Wright," which Phoenix had since learned was just Edgeworth for 'hello'.

"Happy birthday, dude!" Larry shouted, arms open and already moving in for a hug.

Phoenix hardly had time to spot the shimmering, sticker-covered gift bag hanging from Larry's wrist before he was grabbed and bear-hugged. Ill-prepared for such a hearty embrace, he could do little more than stand there, while Larry squeezed him, shook him, and finished with a good, hard pat on the back.

When Larry let go and backed up a couple of steps, Phoenix looked to Edgeworth once again. "What'd he do? Is it a sign on my back? What does it say?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Edgeworth scoffed. But he did slyly look at Phoenix's back, for good measure.

"A handprint. He handprinted me, didn't he?" Phoenix guessed. "He's done it before. What is it? Paint? Snackoo dust? Maple syrup?"

"As you can see, there is nothing on his hands to be transferred to your back. Thus, there is nothing on your back. Paranoia is unbecoming, Wright." Edgeworth crossed his arms. "We merely wanted to stop by to wish you a happy birthday. Isn't that right, Larry?"

"Of course!" Larry overenthusiastically agreed. "Okay, so, Edgey and I went shopping, earlier today."

Phoenix couldn't completely hide his amusement. He was able to maintain a relatively neutral expression, though. "Went shopping together…?" He eyed Edgeworth.

The only response the prosecutor offered, however, was, "For crying out loud, Wright, don't make this any worse than it is."

Phoenix nodded and encouraged Larry, "Go on."

"Okay. Me an' Edgey were out, you know, looking for awesome stuff to get you for your birthday and—" Larry paused, suspiciously. Rather than hand over the bag still dangling from his wrist, he produced an envelope, which he very enthusiastically offered to Phoenix.

Phoenix looked at his gift, but didn't open it. The envelope was void of writing or anything else that might serve as a clue to its contents. Knowing Larry, it was probably an IOU. Or maybe it was like last year's gift. That had been a coupon good for 'ONE SUPER KICK ASS BIRTHDAY GIFT OF THE USER'S CHOICE…under $15.00 and after my next payday (I ain't made of money, dude). Additional restrictions may apply.' At least it had been typed; otherwise Phoenix wouldn't have been able to read half of it, as awful as Larry's handwriting was.

In any case, Phoenix could only wonder what he'd received from Larry this time. Not to mention what he hadn't. Whatever was in that gift bag was most likely something ridiculous that Larry had picked up for his latest girlfriend. He figured he was probably better off not knowing.

"Come on, Nick. Open it. It won't bite." Larry chuckled, and, looking slightly demented, insisted, "Not very hard, anyway."

Phoenix attempted to discreetly catch Edgeworth's attention for some sort of non-verbal clue.

Edgeworth, appearing mentally exhausted, said only, "Just open it." The exhaustion was understandable if he really had spent even part of his day with Larry.

As Phoenix tore at the envelope, Larry felt compelled to add, "I hope you appreciate the sacrifice Edgey and I made, in giving you such a precious gift."

Inside the envelope was a picture. Well, it was on photo paper, anyway. Did Larry take the picture? Or was he in it? And which would be worse?

When Phoenix pulled the photo out, it was glossy-side down and that was a small relief. He hesitated slightly before flipping it over. He could only imagine the sight that awaited him…

The border of the picture was a blindingly bright orange, with the words 'Gene Machine' written along the left side, in some bubbly font Phoenix sort of recognized. There was something familiar about that, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. In the top left quarter of the print was a picture of an openly grinning Larry, and beneath it, an openly scowling Edgeworth. Taking up better part of the right side was a picture of… their offspring?

That's where Phoenix remembered it from. Gene Machine. It was part of a… glorified photo booth in the mall. Couples could take their typical cutesy, couple…y pictures with one another—a stolen kiss in one, bunny ears behind the head in another. He had secretly wanted to do things like that with Iris in their youth. More adventurous pairs (or deeply disturbed childhood friends, in this case) could even glimpse into the future and see what their children would look like.

Phoenix attempted to catalog the Larry/Edgeworth hybrid's rather interesting features. Let's see… he has Miles's hair, Larry's eyebrows, Miles's eyes, Larry's nose, Miles's lips, and… Larry's facial hair. ...Fantastic.

Like a true friend, Larry was right there, passing along vital information. "His name is Marry."

Phoenix couldn't help but laugh a little. "Is that so?"

"It most certainly is not!" Edgeworth protested, looking horrified. "That… child is male."

Larry brushed him off. "I said 'his name'. Marry. 'Cuz that's what you'd get if you put our names together." He looked to Phoenix. "Two R's, okay, dude: M-A-R-R-Y."

Phoenix nodded, trying to keep his amusement in check. "I got it. Two R's. Boy, he's a real looker," he added, followed by a quick whistle.

Phoenix couldn't help but notice that Edgeworth's sudden cough sounded suspiciously like laughter. Whatever it was, it was short-lived.

That was due to Larry, of course, who was quick to point an accusing finger at him and shout, "You shut up, Edgey! It's your fault he's so ugly!" Then, to Phoenix, in a loud, very obviously indiscreet whisper, he insisted, "Awesome personality, though."

Addressing Edgeworth again, Larry warned, "Dude, if you ever put such an ugly baby in me, I'd—"

That time Edgeworth's cough was more cough-like. Or maybe it was a gag. It definitely had a gag-like quality about it. "I'm not going to put any babies in you, Larry, ugly or otherwise."

Phoenix was covering his mouth with his free hand at this point, to conceal just how close he was to losing it. A few rogue chuckles still escaped.

"Furthermore, if I did somehow, mysteriously—and might I add, horrifyingly—impregnate you, I would demand—"

"A wedding?" Larry guessed.

"Absolutely not!" Once he'd calmed down from his outburst, Edgeworth cleared his throat and continued, "I'd insist upon a far more just way to name the child. I see no reason for one parent to possess four-fifths of the naming rights."

Phoenix couldn't help but interject at this point. If anything, it got his mind (and eyes) off of… Marry. But it couldn't get Marry's eyes off of him. "You really wanna go there, Edgeworth?"

Do you really wanna use fractions in Larry's presence?

Edgeworth scoffed. "It's the principle, Wright. I'd have thought you'd understand. I'm not surprised he doesn't." The prosecutor jerked his head in Larry's direction.

Larry seemed oblivious. "Mmmmarry."

Edgeworth gave Phoenix his best 'demon prosecutor' glare for some reason, as if just waiting for his composure to crack, so he could scold him for it. Apparently satisfied with Phoenix's resolve, Edgeworth's expression softened to mere unrelenting scrutiny. And yes, for anyone who might be wondering, thought Phoenix, that was a vast improvement.

Edgeworth closed his eyes and kept them closed a moment, shaking his head only once, stopping suddenly, mid-shake, to declare, "Simply drawing out the sound of one letter of my name will not suffice, Larry."

"I can't help it if my name is longer than yours!"

Edgeworth opened his eyes and rolled them. "Larry is no longer than Miles."

Phoenix absently noted, "Laurice is."

Larry laughed, and rather loudly, too. "In your face, Edgey!"

Ignoring him, Edgeworth looked to Phoenix. "I hope you're pleased."

"My two best friends had a photo booth lovechild and gave it to me for my birthday. What's not to be pleased about?"

"Point taken."

Before Phoenix could really grasp that Edgeworth hadn't taken his remark as a joke, like he'd meant it—instead, he seemed to be seriously mulling it over—Larry shouted, "Maurice!"

"It's a real name. He actually came up with a real name," Edgeworth murmured, somehow managing to sound both deadpan and mesmerized at the same time.

Phoenix chuckled. "I'm as surprised as you are."

Larry nodded to himself a few times, his smile growing with each nod. "Maurice. That's a fine name for your boy, Nick."

Phoenix remained quiet, certain that Edgeworth would complain that his share in the name Maurice was only one-seventh. Or three-sevenths, if he was willing to accept the 'I' and the 'E' and Larry was willing to give them up, or share them, or...oh, forget it. Either way, no such protest came.

"Well, now that that matter is settled—" Edgeworth reached into his jacket pocket for something. He then handed over a small, thin gift box.

"What's this?" Phoenix asked, somewhat nervously. Who'd have thought he could still be worried about receiving a present after surviving the gift that was… Maurice.

"It's an actual gift. From me. Just… take it, Wright. You're quite hard to shop for, so—" Edgeworth interrupted himself with a flippant flick of the wrist. "Just open it."

Phoenix complied, lifting the lid from the box to reveal a gift card—the kind you could use just about anywhere. He smirked slightly. "Thanks." His eyes widened when he got a look at the amount of the card, namely, how large it was. "Edgeworth, this is—"

Noticing Phoenix's expression, Edgeworth added, "Don't protest. Just buy yourself something nice."

"Buy yourself something nice?" Larry echoed, disbelieving.

"Dare I ask what I've said wrong?"

"Dude, that's like something you say to a mistress. Tactless, Edgey. Tactless." Larry shook his head, regretfully, as if terribly ashamed of his friend in that moment. Mere seconds later, his typical goofball smile was back in place, as he (finally) presented Phoenix with the gift bag that had been decorating his left forearm for the better part of their visit.

So it is for me after all…

"Larry…?" Phoenix called out, tentatively. He turned the bag around a couple of times, more to postpone actually peering inside of it than to admire the extensive assortment of Steel Samurai and Pink Princess stickers plastered all over it.

"Come on, Nick. You're gonna need it for Maurice."

Oh, great.

Phoenix very carefully parted the tissue paper and was equally, if not more reserved when he reached inside the bag. Whatever this present was, it was relatively flat, and smooth.

A picture frame.

"Thanks, Larry. That's very… thoughtful."

The man had given a genuine gift. It was to be used in conjunction with something else Phoenix wasn't entirely convinced qualified as a gift, but still. Not to mention Edgeworth. Phoenix wasn't sure what was more surprising: Larry actually thinking to give a picture frame to go with a picture, or Edgeworth allowing himself to be in said picture.

"Anytime. Anyway, I gotta get outta here. Get ready to meet my girl. She's taking me to a fashion show! So, uh, take good care of Maurice, and now that you're getting older, I dunno, don't break a hip or anything. See ya." Larry then moved in for another hug. It was much quicker and far less constricting than before.

Phoenix rolled his eyes. "I'll be careful, thanks."

…And Larry was off.

Edgeworth cleared his throat. "Well, as Larry and I carpooled here and I fear for the state of my vehicle if he is left to his impatience..."

Understanding his meaning, Phoenix said, "Yeah, of course."

A disembodied, "Laurice has left the building!" could be heard from the hallway.

With Larry's announcement for encouragement, Edgeworth headed for the door.

"Hey, Edgeworth?" Phoenix called out.

Edgeworth glanced back. "Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Turning around, Edgeworth skeptically agreed, "…I suppose."

"How the hell did Larry get you into the photo booth?"

"Forcibly."

Phoenix laughed. "Seriously, how did he convince you to do it?"

Edgeworth looked down. He didn't blush, but it was pretty clear he was uncomfortable. After a moment, he quietly admitted, "He implied it would make you happy. I believe his exact words were 'Can you imagine the look on Nick's face when he sees this?'"

"And you fell for it?"

"I did."

"And you could imagine the look?"

"…Happy birthday, Wright. Or should I say 'congratulations'?"

"Yeah, I suppose so." Phoenix chuckled. It was his turn to look down and 'not blush'. "He was right, you know. But if you ever tell him—"

Edgeworth cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Tell Butz he was right about something? Not a chance. He'd try to get me into that cursed photo booth every year for as long as the three of us live. No, I think Maurice should remain an only child."

Phoenix laughed a little. "Couldn't agree more."

Edgeworth exhaled slowly—sighed, almost—smirked, and murmured, "Well, it's the thought that counts, isn't it?"

Phoenix matched Edgeworth's smirk and agreed, "Yeah, it is."

A/N: Wouldn't be one of my fics without some sort of end-of-story note. My bff and I have had several ugly Gene Machine babies, from various trips to Dave n Buster's, and… that's what spawned this all. (Spawned, LOLOL.) They're in my lj, which is my homepage here; just look for posts with "I'm drunk" as part of the subject.

You can visit www-dot-fotomorph-dot-com if you want more info on the Gene Machine. Think... 'If They Mated' from Conan O'Brien; that's basically what it's like. And no, you can't take normal "couple…y" pictures in the fotomorph booths. You also can't have bearded babies, I don't think. Allow me a little creative freedom, plz.

And yes, I realize Larry is likely short for Lawrence, which is obviously longer than Miles.

And yes (again), EPIC ENDING FAIL because I suck at ending stuff. Whoops.