Sweet

This was the flavor of happiness: the taste of sweetness, creamy and light.

"What do you mean, you don't have a favorite?"

Pearl's words were sharp with disbelief and confusion, and she stared at Phoenix in front of the parlor like he had suddenly grown a second head. Her eyes darted over to Trucy, as if to confirm such an unthinkable thing: that Phoenix Wright had no particular preference when it came to ice cream.

Phoenix felt an instinctual urge to hide, and he took a tentative step behind Edgeworth. This earned him an unimpressed scowl from his partner, and he realized he was acting foolishly. Pearl had long outgrown the tendency to lash out with a slap whenever she was angered, despite the lingering memory of her hand's sting.

To his relief, Pearl merely straightened and lowered her gaze. She chewed at her thumb tip, embarrassed at her outburst. Guilt shot through Phoenix; he hated disappointing her, even over something as silly as favorite ice cream flavors.

But before he could respond, Trucy jumped in.

"Well, he says he likes vanilla, but I think he just hasn't tried enough flavors to pick a favorite." She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe we can help him choose one now."

Pearl gasped, lighting up with delight. "That's a wonderful idea! Mister Nick can try them all here and pick the one he likes best!" She grasped Trucy's hands, the two of them bobbing on their toes in their excitement.

Oh no.

Years of experience had taught Phoenix that there was little chance of stopping either of them when they grew this excited over an idea. A sense of foreboding crept over him. "Wait, wait! There's no way I'm eating that many types of ice cream all at once."

He held his hands up, trying to calm them both down and wrangle back control of their outing. After all, it had been his suggestion to treat them all after Trucy's afternoon show: he should be the one dictating just how much ice cream he could handle. A glance at the frozen display cases showed dozens of colorful concoctions, and already he could feel a pit forming in his stomach at the thought of eating so many fanciful flavors.

He glanced over at Edgeworth, eyebrows raised in an exasperated plea, urging his partner to rein in the girls before this idea spun out of hand. "Help me out here."

To his shock, Edgeworth simply gave him another reproachful glare. "I may not know much about ice cream, but I do know better than to come between young ladies and their desserts." He adjusted his glasses, pushing the lenses back up along his nose. The gesture was almost enough to hide the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. "And you must admit, simple vanilla is a bit… dull."

"See? Everyone agrees!" Trucy bolted into the parlor, hand waving to flag down the attendant. Pearl followed hot on her heels.

"Traitor," Phoenix grumbled, though there was no real bite in it. At least it was only ice cream. He had handled much worse in his life. If this was what made Trucy and Pearl happy right now – and if even Edgeworth went along with it…

He held the door for the prosecutor and then hurried to catch up with his daughter.

Fifteen minutes later, after Edgeworth had left a hefty number of bills in the tip jar, the four of them crammed into one of the parlor's vinyl booths: the girls seated on one side, chittering with anticipation, and he and Edgeworth together on the other. On the table between them sat three cups of ice cream. Dwarfing them all, though, was the tray of 36 sample cups and spoons, one of every ice cream variety available, sitting in front of Phoenix like a rainbow mosaic.

"I have to try all of them?" He clung to the faint hope that he could bargain the girls down to trying just a handful.

"All of them," Trucy intoned, expression severe, pointing her spoon at him to emphasize her point. She and Pearl nodded solemnly.

Ice cream was indeed serious business for teenage girls.

Taking a deep breath, Phoenix let his gaze flit over the samples, deciding which one to taste first. On the bright side, if a flavor was not to his liking, it would be gone in a moment. And added together, all the samples probably amounted to one or two regular servings, so at least he would not leave with a stomach ache.

Beneath the table Edgeworth briefly laced their fingers together, holding for just a moment. The warmth of his skin was a welcome contrast to the parlor's cold air. Phoenix was not sure if the gesture was meant as an apology or as encouragement. Perhaps it was both.

Trucy grinned with delight as he dug in.

It turned out, after the first handful of samples, that all the ice cream flavors started to blend together for him. By the time he reached the middle of the tray he could hardly discern any difference between maraschino cherry and raspberry ripple, butter pecan and butterscotch, coffee and toffee – not to mention all the varieties of chocolate. Only the textures gave him any relief: a hard bite of nut, the rough grain of a coconut strand, and the occasional chewy cookie dough helped relieve the numbness on his tongue.

Everything swirled together into an orgy of sweetness, almost overwhelming.

So instead of concentrating on the ice cream, he observed the company around him. The two girls had launched into a friendly but heated debate about their favorite ice cream flavors. They were ostensibly trying to convince Phoenix which kind was better, but their efforts were more directed toward each other.

He smiled as Pearl held her ground, the same strength she'd shown as a child tempered with her growing knowledge of the world around her. And Trucy, well, his daughter could captivate any audience, and by the time their cups were empty she had laid out her side with as much aplomb as any of her magic tricks. Their efforts reminded him of his courtroom battles: Edgeworth the immovable prosecutor holding fast against his unstoppable bluffs.

Perhaps it was just his parenting instincts kicking in, but he hoped that his and Miles's experience could live on in the next generation, too.

A swell of pride bubbled into his chest as he realized how much Pearl and Trucy had grown, and what wonderful young women they were becoming. Here in the ice cream parlor, sharing a moment of childish indulgence, only highlighted how much they had truly matured over the years.

As for Edgeworth, his partner idly spooned his mint-flavored ice cream as he watched the two ladies with a keen gleam in his eye, keeping track of whose points were most persuasive. His lips curled up in a fond smile now and then, especially when one of them made an insightful argument. There was something undeniably sweet in how these two could bring out the sentimental side of the usually unflappable man.

Contentment swept over Phoenix, sinking deep into him, through him, filling him with enough heat to counter the ice creams' chill. He squeezed Edgeworth's hand again, sharing a look with his partner over the rim of the other man's glasses.

The warm gaze he received in return could melt glaciers.

"You're down to the last one, Mister Nick!" Pearl grinned at him, all teeth and excitement.

Three empty bowls sat discarded on the table, surrounded by dozens of tiny crumpled cups and spoons. Only one tiny bit of ice cream remained.

"You saved the best for last, riiiiight?" Trucy nudged the final cup closer to him – one that she had subtly maneuvered out of his reach until now, diverting his attention to other flavors with expert misdirection. She was staring at him intently. As he in turn looked down at the pink-colored dessert, he realized she had saved her own favorite until the end.

He could almost hear the words she was trying to coax from him: Yes Trucy, the strawberry flavor is unquestionably supreme.

With a flourish, he picked up the spoon and finished off the tray.

All eyes rested on him.

"Well Daddy, what's the verdict?"

He diligently let the ice cream finish melting on his tongue.

"I dunno, Truce," he said at last, letting an impish tone seep into his voice. Knowing exactly the kind of protest he was about to receive – and relishing it – he smirked and braced his hands on his hips: "I still think I like just plain vanilla."

One would think he had canceled Christmas.

"That's no fun, Mister Nick!"
"You can't be serious!"
"Really, Wright, after all that?"
"You were supposed to choose something new!"
"Daddy, that's so boring!"

"What can I say?" He raised his palms in surrender, chuckling. "I guess I'm just old-fashioned."

Beside him, Edgeworth let out a noise that suspiciously sounded like a snort, stifled beneath an abrupt cough. Phoenix gave him a half-hearted glare; the man had no room to judge, considering the Edwardian-era ruffles he proudly wore.

Trucy let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. "Or maybe you're just old . My old, embarrassing Daddy!" But her smile was somewhere between long-suffering and indulgent. She scooted out of the vinyl and stepped to his side of the booth, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. "We love you anyway, though."

"Love you all, too."

The girls scampered off into Trucy's room as soon as they arrived home to pack for an impromptu Kurain sleepover. This left the adults with the task of putting away the cartons of ice cream Edgeworth had been conned into purchasing. Even the Demon Prosecutor proved susceptible to two pairs of adoring eyes, pleading for more like a scene out of Dickens.

Phoenix passed the containers one by one to Edgeworth to stack in the kitchen freezer, awaiting the next celebration – or until temptation got the better of someone. A pint for each of them, plus a few extra for frequent visitors: strawberry, green tea, the much-maligned vanilla…

Edgeworth shut the freezer and stared at the vanilla container in his hands with a contemplative expression. He sidled over to Phoenix and reached around him into the utensil drawer.

"Ugh, how can you eat more?"

Phoenix made a face as Edgeworth popped the lid and spooned out a small amount. While Edgeworth possessed a sweet tooth, the overabundance of ice cream at the parlor had left Phoenix slightly nauseous. Now that they had a moment alone Phoenix slumped against his partner, shoulders brushing, hands settling at his hips. The contact did much to soothe his stomach.

He felt even better when Edgeworth leaned against him as well, set the pint on the counter, and wrapped a hand around his waist.

"Has your palette recovered yet?" Edgeworth asked mildly, and brought the spoon to his lips. That deliberate, bland inflection raised goosebumps along Phoenix's neck. It was the same tone his partner used in court, the one when he was about to introduce an updated piece of evidence and demolish his argument. Or when he would raise an unexpected objection and save his case. Either way, Phoenix felt a familiar tug in his chest: anticipation.

"Nope. And don't think I'm gonna forget any time soon that you encouraged them. It's gonna be a while before I ever eat ice cream again."

Edgeworth's palm was warm through Phoenix's dress shirt, thumb brushing across his back in smooth, distracting movements. Another spoonful of vanilla disappeared into his mouth. "I take little pleasure in watching you suffer. Though I was expecting you to come away with a new appreciation for some other flavor, for their sake."

Phoenix let his silence speak for him.

"You, on the other hand, take entirely too much pleasure in antagonizing them," Edgeworth lightly scolded. His hand moved in small circles down to Phoenix's lower back.

"It's only fair I get in a little fun when you all decide to torture me."

Edgeworth darted his eyes to the entryway, as if making sure they were truly alone in the kitchen. His hand slipped lower still, fingers squeezing around the curve of Phoenix's ass. His voice dropped into a quiet, salacious murmur.

"Perhaps you'll allow me make it up to you, then." Edgeworth took in another spoonful of ice cream, and then immediately tilted his head for a kiss.

The chill of his lips caused Phoenix to gasp, and Edgeworth opened his mouth as well.

Ahh!

The half-melted ice cream flowed into his mouth. The cold posed a delicious contrast to the heat of Edgeworth's mouth, adding an exciting new dimension to the kiss. It slipped along his tongue, sliding between the two of them; each sought the ice cream in the other's mouth, chasing it, lips pressing tight. There was something decadent, and unexpectedly appealing, in wrapping their tongues together to share the taste so intimately.

Phoenix let out a moan as Edgeworth gripped him harder and pulled him closer.

Reduced to liquid sweetness, the ice cream rendered the kiss messier than usual: a little more chaotic, a bit sloppy, utterly delicious . As Edgeworth pulled away a trickle of vanilla escaped down his chin. Phoenix pressed his lips to that last remnant, following the trail with the point of his tongue.

Irresistible.

He may have slightly favored vanilla before; now, the flavor was becoming inextricably entwined with the sensation of Miles . Distantly, he wondered if Edgeworth had planned this all along.

"It would be a shame if this experience spoiled you on ice cream," Edgeworth managed, a little breathless. He lifted a finger beneath Phoenix's jaw so that their eyes could meet; those endless grey depths were mesmerizing. "Let me indulge you."

A shiver ran down his spine.

Edgeworth smiled, and his voice stayed low with the promise of a most devious evening. "Besides, we both know your tastes are quite the opposite of vanilla."