Author's note: I'm sorry, Yanmegaman! I know how much you hate Iris, but these two are my other OTP after Miego and I got writer's block on my Mayquill chapter. For the rest of you, enjoy the show!

Ah, life was good. Not only did Phoenix have good friends that he could rely on to not get drunk at crucial moments (seriously though, that was one of the biggest reasons Edgeworth had been his best man), but now he was also married to the girl of his dreams.

And Maya probably would have beaten him round the head with a stale baguette if she had heard that awful cliche.

Still, no time to think about violent assault with dry baked goods now. He had some more appetizing food to think about, courtesy of Maggey Gumshoe and a way-too-tiny barbecue. He had to get in there quick before Maya burgled the burgers and Edgeworth snaffled the Samurai Dogs. Not to mention Larry, who would do some unsavoury things to the salad if Sister Iris didn't get there first.

Well, she was ex-Sister Iris, actually. Nobody could get used to that, least of all Iris herself. After all, she had gone from being Dollie to being Sister Iris, and now she was back to being Dollie again. Her darling Feenie had insisted on using the old nickname, saying that she was still the girl he fell in love with despite her sweet personality being originally just a mask her sister used to achieve her own ends. Or some overly sappy version of that, anyway. And now, she was officially Mrs Iris Hawthorne-Wright, and had been so for a year.

Talking of which, there was the object of her affection precariously carrying two plates: one with a burger dripping with ketchup and one with a juicy steak and some thankfully ketchup-free salad. Larry could do some terrible things to a rocket leaf, and Feenie had had to get in quick to stop him from drowning the poor thing in enough ketchup to fill Gourd Lake.

"Hey, Dollie," he said as he plopped himself down on the sand beside her, "is it just me, or are all your tastes just way more expensive than my own?"

"Huh?"

"Look at our plates. You've got a fancy ribeye and enough rocket to plan a trip to Mars, and I've just got a burger the size of a small asteroid."

"Well, I suppose you might just be a little spacey tonight," Iris replied with a wry smile. "Alternatively, it might be all those hours down at the Angus Burger House with Mystic Maya."

"Burger point taken," Phoenix laughed, "but did you seriously just go there?"

"Like you haven't heard a stupid pun before, Feenie."

Hmm, that's true, Phoenix thought. For a start, it seems like most of my clients through the years have had stupid puns for names. "Anyway, never mind that. We'd better start eating this stuff before it gets cold."

"Good idea," Iris tried to reply through a mouthful of steak. She failed miserably, instead coming out with an incoherent "Hmph" that nearly signalled an unpleasant experience involving the Heimlich manoeuvre. Thankfully, Feenie recognized it as the "I was enough of an idiot to try and talk with my mouth full" noise that it was and not some kind of "I am rapidly running out of air and need you to hit me very hard" noise. In turn, Iris's throat had the courtesy not to close up at the worst possible moment and turn the former into the latter. Lesson safely learned, she sat and ate her steak in comfortable silence, broken only by the lapping of the waves and the occasional babble of sociable chatter from the speed-eaters who had already finished.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am stuffed," Phoenix said rather inelegantly. "Should we go for a walk along the beach before I find out I can't fit into my suit tomorrow morning?"

"That would be a wonderful idea," Iris replied with what would usually be a suspicious amount of enthusiasm. Thankfully, her Feenie was too full to notice. If she had been paying close attention, she might have noticed him go slightly green. She picked herself up off the ground, batted off the sand and second-hand burger crumbs and galloped along trying to keep up with her husband (who, lovely as he was, had an unfortunate tendency to be late for things and thus was a very fast walker).

They had just about settled into a comfortable pace when Iris was startled by Feenie asking her a question.

"Has everything been OK lately? You just seem... somehow different. Like you're not telling me something."

"I'm fine, Feenie. Everything's normal."

Phoenix sighed. His wife was a terrible liar; he could see right through her without needing any kind of outside help. She had either decreased massively in competence since her college days masquerading as her sister, or he had suffered from chronic Larry Butz syndrome as a kid. Possibly both, he mused with some embarrassment.

Iris must have noticed Phoenix's mood change, because she gave up lying.

"Fine, I'll tell you. I was feeding an extra guest at that barbecue this evening. If you'd like me to put it another way, I'm eating for two."

Phoenix grinned like his idiot college self. "In other words..."

"Congratulations, Feenie. You're going to be a daddy. I'm pregnant."