AN: A huge thank you to my lovely beta-reader, GeekyGenius for all her work! Sorry if some italics are missing. DocX is really screwed up. :/

Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom and Shu Takumi

Story takes place before Rise from the Ashes

Phoenix stared at the mobile weighing heavily in his hands.

To ring, or not to ring? That was the question.

He'd woken up without any clear recollection of what had happened last night - not that he had been particularly concerned then. His priority had been turning the flat upside down in search of aspirin, and then to comb his hair, (it was natural – he didn't need gel) before he'd finally decided to pluck up the courage and face the rest of the day as a normal human being.

... At least, that was what he'd decided. As the day slipped by, bits and pieces of the night before began to float back, accompanied with the discovery of various texts by Larry. 'r u home?' 'wer r u?' 'hav u ben pickd up yet?'

He texted back lazily ('yep, im home') whilst wondering what clues he could pick up from those messages. He'd been out, eating or drinking, he remembered that much. He couldn't remember exactly who it was he'd been eating with, but he assumed Larry at least knew something about it. The last text was the one that intrigued him the most. Someone had picked him up? Who?

He pondered this idly as he looked through his fridge, only to realise with a groan that he'd ran out of milk. Pulling himself up, he picked up his keys and moved towards the front door.

And then he remembered.

Edgeworth.

The recollection stunned him to the point that he dropped his keys to the floor. He left them lying there, lost in a sudden onslaught of his own memories.

Last night...

Red cars. Prosecutors. Lush, comfy seats.

"Do up your seat belt, Wright."

Grey eyes. Strong shoulders.The smell of citrus fruit...

"Wright, I - "

Leaning in. Not breathing. Lips touching. Eyes widening.

"Oh god."

The memory felt strangely foreign in his mind. He wished, almost desperately, that they didn't belong to him after all - someone else's memories. Actually, no, the idea of someone else kissing Edgeworth... No. Perhaps he'd been dreaming? He didn't kiss Edgeworth. He didn't kiss -

Oh god. What have I done? What was I thinking?

... Nothing, probably. A snarky part of him answered, and Phoenix felt a sudden, cold feeling of dread rush through him.

Milk forgotten; he focused on remembering as much as he could of the previous night. He was having dinner with someone. Was it a date? Was he... on a date with Edgeworth? But that was impossible. He didn't remember anything about arranging a meeting like that - and Larry... Larry knew something about it too. But then... He remembered quite clearly that it was Edgeworth who had brought him home. He couldn't mistake a car like that even when he was drunk.

And he definitely remembered Edgeworth leading him laboriously up the stairs. Edgeworth taking him to his apartment, turning to leave, Phoenix grabbing him, not letting him go:

"I'll call you."

He wondered how much those three words were worth. Not much, surely - he was inebriated and out of his mind. He wondered how much they were worth to Edgeworth.

Leaning in. Breathing in the scent of citrus. Touching, ever so briefly -

I wonder how much that's worth to Edgeworth?

Groaning, Phoenix leaned heavily upon his front door and buried his face in his hands.

"I'll call you. I'll call you every. Single. Day." Why had he said that? Phoenix didn't know what had come over him. He couldn't envision himself saying anything like this when he was sober. I am never touching grape juice again...

Wait - it was the alcohol.

Yes, that was it. The man who'd declared he would call 'every single day' and the man who'd leaned forwards to kiss Edgeworth on the lips... That had not been Phoenix Wright. I guess the only call I'm going to make is one to apologise.

But maybe...?

He paused to consider the new, small voice which had just spoken out. It wasn't a particularly loud voice, but somehow, it was impossible to overlook it. Maybe I could call him. It said, plaintively. Maybe he wouldn't mind talking to me.We haven't really caught up yet;we could... chatforjust a little bit every day. Catch up on... whatever's going on?

The very idea of attempting to gossip with Edgeworth across the phone like a certain old bag made Phoenix feel like an idiot, made him feel as though he was bluffing to himself. But the thought had planted itself into his head, and hard as he tried, he could feel the temptation growing.

Maybe I really could call him. After all... I'm... I used to be his friend, right?

No, Phoenix. He was making so many excuses. He doesn't want this.

But I said... I did say... I don't want to...

You have no obligations to keep your word, said the rational part of him, cold and firm and in a manner which, strangely, reminded him of Edgeworth. It means nothing. You were drunk.

And that's all there is to it.

He kept on catching himself in the act of glancing at his cell phone.

The battle in his mind, having previously calmed to a manageable level, was rapidly beginning to regain momentum once more. You'll be bothering him if you call, said the critical part of him, harsh and judgmental. He doesn't want that.

But I promised! The rest of him argued, though his words sounded whiny and child-like.

You were drunk, the rational part of his mind stated, refusing to give in. You weren't thinking clearly. Edgeworth knows that too. He won't be expecting you to mean what you said.

Sometimes, Phoenix hated that cynical part of him, but often it was the only part of him that made any sense.

What if I did mean what I said? An awkward argument, but it would do.

If you meant what you said, countered common sense, then did you mean for the kiss too?

It was a good question and it left him floundering helplessly for a moment. He didn't know what the kiss meant. A spur of the moment, alcohol driven decision, was what he liked to believe. No, that was true. But as for the calling, well...

I just want to talk to Miles more.

When the critic in him made no response, he reckoned that that was the truth. Despite the recent closing of the DL-6 case, the distance between them had not yet been cleared away. Not entirely. Phoenix supposed it would have been naive to hope that one mere year of re-acquaintance was enough to close the gap of 15 years' worth silence, but he had been hopeful. Progress was being made, and now that the one thing which had been shadowing Edgeworth's life was gone, he was sure he would be able to reach the friend he had believed in all those years ago.

He was sure of it. He had seen it for himself. When they had been celebrating Edgeworth's new found freedom with their various friends, he had seen a smile upon the other's face that did not belong to cold, aloof Edgeworth, but had belonged to his friend, Miles.

I'm going to call him.

With determination, he picked up his phone.

Then paused.

Wait, what am I going to say to him?

The kiss lingered in his mind in a way the kiss itself never did. Should he bring that up, or not? The very idea of discussing something like... that with Edgeworth was... strange, and Phoenix was sure he wasn't going to enjoy that conversation.

I'll just thank him for bringing me home last night. Yeah, that's it. I don't need to say anything else.

Taking a deep breath, he keyed in the unfamiliar numbers, frowning in concentration whilst he consulted his phone book for the correct digits. This is probably the first time I actually use his cell number... Edgeworth had callously scribbled it down for him after finally allowing Phoenix to represent him in court, though it had never actually been put to use until now.

The phone trilled quietly for a few moments, and Phoenix waited with mixed feelings of dread and anticipation.

"Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking."

Phoenix tensed upon hearing his voice. Edgeworth sounded, as he always did, cool and efficient, and it took Phoenix a while to remember that he wasn't attempting to weasel information for a case.

"Hey, Edgeworth. It's, um, me."

There was a pause, and it stretched a little longer than Phoenix thought was necessary. Evidently, the prosecutor had not been expecting him to call. The notion made his heart sink a little, though at this moment in time, there was nothing more to do than to press on. He tried hard to ignore the little 'I told you so' emanating from his inner critic.

Edgeworth, meanwhile, had apparently recovered sufficiently from his shock to speak. "Wright?" He still sounded vaguely startled, and more than a little wary. It was a tone that reminded Phoenix of the day he had first visited the prosecutor in the detention centre, and though that had been a few months ago, there was no way he could forget that painful, bitter discussion.

"Yeah, it's me." Phoenix glanced outside of the window, mulling over his choice of words. "I... wanted to talk about yesterday."

If possible, Edgeworth's voice became even more cautious than before. "... What would you like to talk about?"

I... don't really know either, to be honest. He wondered what a safe topic to start off with was. "I guess, I just wanted to thank you for taking me home," he mumbled, finally, knowing without a doubt that that wasn't 'just' what he wanted to talk about. "The dinner was good."

"Wright," said Edgeworth, stiffly, in a way which suggested Phoenix was an idiot. "I wasn't eating with you."

"Yea- Huh?" Phoenix paused. "You... You weren't eating with me?" Suddenly, he felt as though he was back in the courtroom, a similar feeling of shock and disbelief washing over him like the first time Edgeworth had revealed his autopsy report was out-dated. "But you... I thought you took me home?"

Oh god. What if I didn't kiss Edgeworth, but kissed someone else?! The thought made him feel sick. But who else owns a car like that? I swear -

"Yes," answered Edgeworth, thankfully, before Phoenix could lapse into panic. "It was me who took you home, though it was Larry and his girlfriend you spent the night out with." He hesitated, ever so briefly. "You... don't remember everything from last night, do you?"

"I..." Phoenix's words caught in his mouth, and he swallowed them back forcefully. If I don't say the right thing... Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself, tried not to treat this as one of Edgeworth's traps he liked to lay in the courtroom. This is different. He had to remind himself. It's not a trap, it's just a question. But I ... I can't choose the wrong option. I don't want to damage our -

Actually, he thought, stopping short in his tracks, he wasn't entirely sure what he and Edgeworth now had between them. More than strangers, more than acquaintances, but falling a little short of actual friends. It was...

Whatever it is, it's all I've got. He thought grimly. And I don't want to lose it. After all we've been through...

I still want to be friends with him.

"I don't... remember everything," he mumbled eventually, and he wasn't lying, even if his words didn't really answer Edgeworth's true question. "I just remember... a few little things, though. Like when you took me home, I remember..."

He stopped, listening for any sounds from Edgeworth's end of the line. There was nothing, a silence so tight Phoenix almost felt as though it was physically strangling him. He swallowed, and forced himself to continue.

"I remember saying I'd call you," he finished. "So... I'm calling you now."

Edgeworth was silent, and though the atmosphere felt tense, even across the distance, the noose seemed to have relaxed somewhat. But 'somewhat' was the most Phoenix was going to get. Edgeworth was cautious to the extreme, and when it appeared to be clear the other man had finished speaking, the prosecutor spoke.

"... Is that all?"

Phoenix felt his hand tighten around his cell phone. "Yes," he bit out, accompanied with a firm nod of his head, even if Edgeworth wouldn't see it. It felt more of a confirmation for himself, anyhow. "That's all."

"I see," said Edgeworth neutrally, without much emotion in his voice. He didn't make another comment, though his silent implications spoke louder than words.

Phoenix allowed himself to relax his hand slightly. He was sure Edgeworth wasn't completely fooled, the prosecutor was definitely smarter than that, but then again, he didn't have much reason to doubt the defence attorney's words. Phoenix thought it was for the best, anyway - he couldn't imagine discussing the topic of 'kissing' with Edgeworth. No. The kiss was best left buried and unspoken of. Perhaps that way, he could pretend it didn't happen. This embarrassing mistake, this terrible -

"I assume you've said all that you wanted to say," Edgeworth broke the silence flatly. "I'm sorry Wright, but I have quite a few important cases still left to handle."

It was an exit, Phoenix recognised that immediately, and the sensible part of him knew that he should have taken it. Should have left it a simple: 'Alright. I'll see you round, Edgeworth,' and ended the business. Kiss forgotten, the entire night forgotten. Back to square one.

But he was Phoenix Wright, and it had always been his gut feelings which led him down his current path. Not his logic, or really, his sense.

"Do you want me to call again?"

"What?" Edgeworth responded, after a split second of stunned silence. His voice was incredulous. "Wright, what are you -"

"I did say," Phoenix interrupted, feeling a small, somewhat incredulous smile creeping up on his face. "I was going to call you every day until you picked up, wasn't I?"

Edgeworth made a light, slightly muffled noise which sounded suspiciously like a hastily stifled chuckle, as though he could hear the smile in Phoenix's voice. "But I've already answered, Wright," he pointed out, not entirely unkindly. "I believe there is no purpose to your constant pestering of me now, is there?"

"I know," Phoenix stated, matter-of-factly. "That's why I asked if you wanted me to call again."

The prosecutor did not respond immediately, and in hindsight, Phoenix was actually surprised to find his offer actually considered. Before he could even attempt to withdraw his words, however, the other man spoke.

"I don't know what your game is, Wright," said Edgeworth, finally, almost exasperatedly. "You're not making any sense, and I'm almost wondering if you're still drunk."

Phoenix felt his brows knit into a hurt frown. "Edgeworth -"

"However," Edgeworth spoke over him, his tone firmly overcoming any protest the defence attorney could muster, "I see you are persistent, as usual, and I'm sure you will find some other way of bringing me trouble. Therefore, I suppose..." The words seemed to dangle uncertainly in the air for a moment, with all the tension of a rollercoaster reaching the tip of its ascent. "I suppose... it would not be so bad if you called me every once in a while."

And Phoenix could scarcely believe what he was hearing. It was a 'yes'. A long-winded, typically Edgeworth 'yes', perhaps, but a 'yes' nonetheless. Feeling his earlier smile spreading infectiously across his face, he couldn't help but tease: "What, 'Wright'-eousness only 'once in a while'? Edgeworth, you know it works best taken once a day."

"Hmph. Don't be ridiculous, I am a busy man who has a fixed schedule for work," answered Edgeworth shortly, sounding faintly indignant. Phoenix could almost imagine the prosecutor now, arms folded with one finger tapping incessantly at the crook of his elbow. "Also, your joke was terrible. I hope you at least consider what you are saying before exposing others to such painful puns."

I have a punny name... Thought Phoenix sulkily to himself, but he was smiling, and his mood had lifted considerably. "... Thanks, Edgeworth."

"There is nothing to thank me for," Edgeworth answered, smoothly. "I suppose I owe you a favour, anyhow."

Hmm?

"- But that is not important," the prosecutor continued, briskly. "Like I said, Wright. I am very busy. If you don't mind, I must excuse myself now. I believe someone is at my door."

"Oh, right," Phoenix murmured, quietly. "I won't keep you then, Edgeworth." He hesitated. "I'll... talk to you tomorrow?"

"If you must," replied Edgeworth, though there was no impatience in his voice, merely soft amusement. "Goodbye, Wright."

"Bye, Miles," mumbled Phoenix in response, yet when he glanced down at his phone, he realised Edgeworth had already hung up.

AN: Please drop me a review and tell me what you think! Edgeworth and Phoenix are cute. :)

Thank you for reading!