The wall clock of the Detention Center ticked a mechanical sound that digs into your innermost thoughts and mangles your concentration. An irate officer stood at the door solemnly, his entire disposition seemed uncomfortable, his blue uniform shirt tucked tightly under a glossy belt, attempting (without success) to restrain his protruding belly.

The stuffy, brightly lit room reeked of stale cookies, dust, abandoned coffee, as it were. It was almost a wonder how the entirety of the center was this slovenly when you could clearly see a handful of janitors shuffling down the hallways. If the courthouse was ever this grossly neglected, surely a certain pain in the ass opposition would pitch a fit.

"Phoenix."

(I wonder if I can get this investigation over with quickly, like if I fake indigestion or something…)

"Phoenix…"

(Or…perhaps I can pretend to be deaf for awhile…)

"PHOENIX!"

"Mhmm?" the spiky haired man sat up in his chair, suddenly aware he'd drifted off somewhere, more due to boredom than lack of focus.

"You DO realize why we're here, right?" Maya whispered, eyeing around the empty visitors room suspiciously.

"Maya, I understand why we're here. No need to remind me." Phoenix nodded confidently at the 17 year old assistant. "After several successes under my belt, I'm used to this process already. I'm prepared and ready for anything." He grinned, stacking the case files expertly in front of him, staring through the glass partition, waiting for his suspect to arrive.

The door the officer was standing next to opened suddenly, catching the rather rotund man by surprise. Two beefy looking guards walked the suspect into the interviewing room, seating him in front of the partition, facing his two visitors.

"NO!!... It's…it's YOU?" Phoenix shouted suddenly at the sight of his client, nearly falling from his chair in shock.

(Okay…so I didn't read the case file completely. Or…at all.)

Maya pinched his ear, pulling it to her face. "Always prepared, hmm?" she hissed. "Control yourself, Nick! At least attempt to act like you're thoroughly versed in this case!" she released his ear, which was a flushed red from the harsh move from the young psychic in training.

"Ah, I see the board has truly run out of capable defense attorneys. Hello, Wright." The speaker crackled, even through faulty audio, Phoenix could hear contempt oozing from his client's voice.

"Oh, you! No need for such polite formalities, just call me Phoenix! I'm only, y'know, the very last shot you've got ofbeing proven innocent.So…be sure to continue to be as courteous and pleasant as you always are..to the one man on this continent who single handedly controls your fate." Phoenix smirked, his retort alight with condescending sarcasm. "Or, do you prefer to accessorize those pretty silver handcuffs with that unsightly bib you wear?"

A loud snarl broke through the speaker's static, much to Phoenix's delight.

"So, Miles. Or Mr Edgeworth if you so prefer…can you tell me anything about what occurred on…um…uh…" Phoenix paused to sift through the case notes. The papers were scattered and unorganized, and worst off, dog eared and practically illegible, severely worn from rough treatment. "uhm…about 2:00 am in the Wright and Co. Office?"

"It's comforting to know the years of friendship we shared has only increased your determination to, dare I say it, even bother to READ the case you're handling alone." Edgeworth growled.

Phoenix smiled sheepishly at Maya. Even bluffing his preparedness ahead of time for the case would never get past Miles. Although Phoenix hated to admit it, his friend was an absolute prodigy, becoming a Prosecutor at the age of 20 was nearly impossible. His level of concepts and logic were top notch.

(…But he's still an ungrateful bastard…)

"Answer my question, please." Phoenix replied irritably. It was extremely difficult to use manners with an anal-retentive brat like Miles.

"…about a week ago, I'd discovered something odd. My usually overflowing list of clientele had decreased significantly."

(It couldn't be true! What, with that pleasant attitude…and positive smile of his? How could it be possible!? Hahaha…)

"But, as it turned out, a man by the name of Randal McDeddguy had spread vicious lies to the populace, that I was the imperfect apprenctice, the black sheep to the VonKarma name. He was soiling my perfect reputation, it disgusted me." Edgeworth snapped, balling his fists angrily.

(Yeah, perfect reputation of being the most perfectly bi-polar, stuck-up prosecutor in the district circuit.)

"So, upon some careful observation by Detective Gumshoe, I was able to determine Randal's next area that he'd visit to spread his lies would be your office, at approximately 2-2:30am. So naturally, I followed him to confront him, and warn him to cease his actions."

"So…let me clarify your story so far." Phoenix interjected, holding back the temptation to laugh. "You apprehended this man in the middle of the night into my closed law office…all because you didn't like what he was saying to people that have no relation to you?" Phoenix inquired, wincing at a swift kick under the table from Maya, warning him to keep a professional tone.

"Does my decision sound all that impractical to you?" Edgeworth asked incredulously.

(Apparently he's unaware of the term most people would use to describe that decision. "Irrational.")

"No, I was just clarifying. Please continue." Phoenix nodded to Maya, who was listening intently to Miles's dissertation.

"When I reached your office floor, I had found Randal sprawled on the carpet, bleeding from a severe neck wound, and he died shortly after my arrival."

Phoenix nodded, scribbling a few notes to himself on Miles's account of the night of the murder.

"Okay, well that's all the questions we have for you, Mr. Edgeworth, thank you for your time." Maya concluded cheerfully, rising from her chair, eager to leave the tense environment. "Rest assured you'll be off the hook."

"…and right into a guillotine." Edgeworth muttered, loudly enough for both Phoenix and Maya to hear.

Phoenix turned to leave, lifting the case files. They only felt heavier every time he spoke with the stubborn prosecutor.

"Wright…wait a moment." The speaker crackled to life.

Phoenix hesitated reluctantly, returning to the table, taking a seat.

"Nick, I'll be outside waiting for you, 'kay?" Maya left the Detention Center quickly, the heavy steel doors swinging methodically in her wake, files in tow. They shut with a seemingly silent *click*, securing the suspect and attorney's privacy.

Phoenix sighed, preparing himself for the expected barrage of sarcasm and verbal abuse.

"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth?" he found it troubling to maintain patience with the suspect's rude demeanor from just a moment ago.

"…aren't you going to say anything?" Miles asked, his tone of voice changing slightly, sounding less annoyed, but more morose from hopelessness. It wasn't unusual. Miles wasn't used to the sudden role reversal. As a prosecutor, the factor of a suspect's life precariously swinging in the balance wasn't something he concerned himself with. That is…until the suspect was the prosecutor himself.

"What should I say?"

"You're not going to tell me that I'm guaranteed innocent, or 100% safe from the wrath of injustice and false accusations?"

"What would I say that for?" Phoenix asked, narrowing his eyes, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

(Usually with Edgeworth, you never knew.)

"Well…I don't know, just seemed like a phrase The Invincible Phoenix Wright would dole out to everyone bound by cuffs of the law and the world on their shoulders." Miles mumbled, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

"I wouldn't instill false confidence in you. Or betray your trust in me." Phoenix eyed him head on, watching Miles's eyes lower to the ground.

(Never the type to take such words of truth for full value, eh Edgeworth?)

"Oh…" was all Miles could manage, staring off into the distance.

"Look. Tomorrow is the first day of your trial. Try to get some rest tonight at least, you'll need to be at the top of your game, as will I." Phoenix stood up, feeling the familiar pang of nervousness before a court appearance plague him.

(And with the lack of brutish, arrogant confidence Miles usually has, he'll need every second of rest.)

Miles nodded solemnly, rising from his seat, allowing the guards to retrieve him.

"Nick."

Phoenix looked up wearily.

Miles turned to speak, but hesitated.

"Don't screw up. You hear me, Wright?" Edgeworth barked, a tiny glimpse of the good old ferocity he would bring to the courtroom flickered in his onyx eyes, lead out by the guards.

"I won't." Phoenix shot back, feeling adrenaline take its course.

(And I mean it.)