By far the most uncomfortable position I have ever graced with my sleeping body was curled on half of the couch in my office. I note half because I had laid across it many a day of migraines and it was actually quite comfortable. But as I started to stir into consciousness with the light coating my eyelids I automatically was forced to acknowledge the stiffness in my neck. Soon that same ache crawled its devious way down my spine and comfortably settled itself in similar to the way Puru enjoyed doing in the evenings when I settled on the couch at home. Groaning, I trued to shift myself out of the hole I'd been sucked into but found my lap weighed down. In my groggy state the only explanation was evidence so my hand hastily found the offending anchor to move it out of the way. Once again I grunted with excessive effort to unseat the cloth bag.

Oddly enough the cloth, not the weight, clicked into my head which I lifted upright with a sickening crack. I flinched and raced my palm to the searing throb, attempting to make the pain disappear though failing quite miserably. Prying open one of my eyes I glared at the blue suit pants in my lap with, what I hoped was, complete distain. My gaze moved up until finally it landed on Phoenix's face, eyes closed peacefully and arms folded into a make-shift pillow behind his head. Raising a brow I resisted the childish urge to jolt him awake via shouting and instead focused on getting his legs off. The pain in my own muscles made me a little less kind with the procedure but even after I stood and had gathered everything back on my desk Phoenix remained asleep.

Still massaging my neck I opened my office door to check the hallway before venturing out. For the most part the building was still vacant though the dull hum of a janitorial machine was coming from the break room. As the previous night's earthquake emerged from my memory I cringed and quickly decided that avoiding that scene would be best for now. Gathering my composure I headed out in the direction of the second break room and hoped that something similar had not occurred. My extended walk was rewarded by a clean and empty room with a coffee maker. Though I preferred tea, a cup of coffee was equally refreshing and had a particularly alluring charm after a night in the office. The mere smell of the blend made my senses tingle to life.

Fishing two mugs out of the cabinet I was soon on my way back to the comfortable and safe sanctuary of my own office. However, I had foolishly assumed I was home free when the bulky form of Gumshoe was suddenly overtaking my sight. Hastily we both took mutual steps back and my eyes flicked up just in time to see his mouth clumsily closing around words.

"S-sorry about that pal-oh! Mr. Edgeworth!" His shock was genuine as he looked over me nervously. I positively hated the concern in his expression but attempted to ignore it.

"Good morning, Detective Gumshoe," I replied in a tone I could only hope didn't sound too aggravated. After all, I could hardly blame him for being worried – just showing it blatantly while I was standing right there. Since his eyes had not stopped roaming me for injuries I continued, "You're here early."

"Huh? O-oh, yeah!" Scratching the back of his head he finally looked away. The instant the gaze left I felt some sort of neurotic pressure to keep up appearance drift away. Truthfully, the notion itself was pointless yet I couldn't help but feel like a child when looked at with such obvious care. I was afraid of earthquakes and had momentary melt downs but it had been quite some time since I'd broken down crying because of one. As if to add fuel to the fire, Gumshoe went on, "Actually, sir, I was a little worried" – a little meaning greatly, of course, as Gumshoe was rarely ever 'a little' worried about things pertaining to me and earthequakes – "so I wanted to check in to see if you were-"

"I'm quite alright, detective," I reassured, allowing a bit of a smile to show for effect.

The physical weight of his worry had not lifted yet, "A-are you sure? I don't mean to be disrespectful but you were alone when-"

"Wright stopped by shortly afterwards to…" I struggled for the correct term. Proper credit to Wright was due yet I hardly wanted to demean myself, "assist me with the shock." Yes, that sounded very nice. Not too pathetic on my part nor too valiant on Wright's – the man was more like a damsel in distress than a knight most of the time.

"He did?" The reply lacked in actual surprise, which made my face adjust to a look of suspicion I'm sure because he seemed considerably more willing to move on. Stepping around me, that smile still back on his face, he let loose another of his low laughs, "Well then I guess worrying was pretty stupid of me, huh sir?"

I opened my mouth to ask him what he found so very funny and why he didn't seem more surprised but the good detective was already on his way towards the break room. Running back over the conversation in my mind, I decided that if Gumshoe was finally satisfied enough to allow me to continue the journey back to my office I wasn't going to jeopardize it with further conversation.

The large yawn that my body made me heave was just another step down the pathway leading to a new day. As I rolled over the silence of the soft cushions was enough to make it obvious that I wasn't in my own office. When the stylish, deep magenta flooded my eyes like a pair of tinted sunglasses I knew immediately where I was. Rolling over again to sit up and stretch only confirmed that I had, indeed, fallen asleep in the office of Miles Edgeworth. This hadn't been the first time and I was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last.

On a strange cue with my thoughts, the Chief Prosecutor was soon stepping inside. At the sight of him trying to maintain two steaming mugs as well as the door I jumped to my feet and crossed the room.

"You're awake," his tone was controlled yet still it was evident that I had surprised him. I already felt a smile coming on, which the usually stoic prosecutor must have noted because he frowned around his next order, "Don't just stand there, these are hot. Take yours before I drop it on you."

Somehow the words that normally would have indicated clumsiness on his part ended up sounding like a threat so I was quick to close my hand around a cup. The heated outside was enough to make me awkwardly hurry to find the handle as Edgeworth shook out his own hand. By the time he glanced up again I triumphantly had managed to look like nothing had gone wrong – though Edgeworth's face once again made me feel like he'd seen everything.

Turning, I attempted to hide the rather silly embarrassment under a question, "How'd you sleep?"

"The real question is why did you have a more comfortable sleeping position?" his reply came in a cat-like tone; a playful sort of voice curling around words of irritation. In the face of it I automatically struggled out a laugh, my hand relocating to the back of my neck.

"S-sorry about that," I knew I was stumbling as I reached for the right words to change the topic, "Especially after everything last night."

I knew immediately that was the wrong subject as Edgeworth's body stiffened in the middle of his motion to sit. Once more that familiar, indistinguishable look overtook his face; the one that was eternally tangled up in conflict and pain, "Sorry!" My impractical jump to the apology only made him flinch and further avert his eyes. Though a rival he may be that didn't make me feel any less guilty about the stupid mistake. I wanted to curse him out for not making me angry before hand because I had no problem being short when I was angry. Sighing deeply, I tried again, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Still no response.

"I saw enough of that face during the Von Karma-" I hissed. Apparently my tact, what little of it I had left, decided to sleep in.

Edgeworth's laugh was bitter. "You really have no way with words outside of court, do you Wright? Two memories I'd sooner purge from my mind within thirty seconds of each other and almost within a single apology. Care to try another? My father, perhaps."

The chill of his voice and distance of his eyes was enough to banish even the thought of trying to redeem myself from my mind. We allowed the silence to stretch on between us and even the motion of raising the mug to my lips took stores of courage to manage. Edgeworth's face remained turned from me and though the look had softened it hadn't dissolved completely from his eyes. Just the thought of them being fixed on me was enough to make my stomach churn like he'd put sour milk in my coffee. A tightening along my back pressured me to say or do something but nothing came to mind. I hated having people angry with me, even Edgeworth. Actually, him more than most people because though I frequently annoyed him I was rarely able to make him angry. Not that that irritating him was ever a goal of mine…

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my place to-" Once again his voice ran into mine, but not only that it was like his ran through it. His voice sliced mine through like it was melted butter facing an expertly sharpened blade rather than even the typical butter knife.

"It's never been your place, that's never stopped you before, why apologize now?" Even as low as he spoke, with his eyes averted, that look of pain was in his eyes. A thin coat of anger covered it like plastic wrap and I could tell he was trying to hide it but he couldn't. The agony of those memories was more than any irritation could cover up; even the irritation I induced.

I frowned and stood up, unable to take sitting down and watching him mentally degrade himself for another minute. Edgeworth was my rival, there was no question about that, which was probably why it started to burn that he would sit there and sulk. Where was the fearsome prosecutor I faced in court? Suddenly the lack of evidence and contradictions made him the weakest and most vulnerable man alive? Some how I couldn't buy that – not even for a minute.

"It's over with, Edgeworth. Snap out of it already. How long has it been now? Not just since your father died but since the case was resolve-" His dark eyes looked up to me, still with that intense and overwhelming look that made me want to shut up and crawl back into my corner but I couldn't. At the same time, it was impossible to carry on in the ferocious tone (if I do say so myself) that I'd built up. What a waste.

Instead, my shoulders slacked and I once again fell back to the couch and while my eyes left him his didn't leave me. That made the desire to continue even stronger, but I'd never get back that momentum I had just built up. Might as well try the usual attempt at friendliness, I decided and turned to face him, "What would your dad think of you sulking about this anyway? Sure, okay, well…you're a prosecuting attorney…and he was a defense attorney…" I could feel the lead in I had slipping like Maya on ice in winter, but a dug my heels in hard and tried to continue, "But that doesn't matter, does it? Now that all that's over you're the top prosecuting attorney around. No defense attorney can step up to the plate without hearing about Miles Edgeworth…right?"

My eyes glanced back to his again and the question was clearly answered by the morphed expression. What pain had been there was now a faint and eager gleam of hope at my words. It was hard to say he was hanging on them, and the second I looked up he glanced away, but that was a start! Somehow I knew the cliché opening would get him.

Edgeworth slowly rose from the couch and set the cup of coffee he'd been harboring on a nearby table. Moving over to the large window that gave a clear view of the morning city, his hand grazed over his desk and lightly. A strange sensation had started to course through his system at Phoenix's words, a sensation that he wasn't used to or able to describe. Yet, at the same time, it felt familiar and welcoming; two things he wasn't quick to give up in his brief time of need.

When his hand couldn't find something solid to rest on, he slipped it into his pockets and looked out over the city. The skies were a fresh blue decorated with the occasional white wisp of cloud, there wasn't a sign that the earthquake last night had happened or that anything bad would befall the upcoming day. People and cars were slowly building up to the bustling speed of the day, able to so carelessly brush aside the previous night's incidents. No ambulances, no fire trucks. Not only was it as though nothing had disturbed the city's somewhat chaotic peace but it seemed like nothing ever could.

Then he realized that was exactly how to explain the feeling. It seemed very much like he'd returned, if only a little, to the unbroken state he had been in all those years ago. Before his father was murdered, before the case was brought up against him. The secure feeling resembled one before von Karma and his treacherous methods and plans, before death and despair had haunted his nightmares. Back when he attended school with Phoenix and proved his innocence concerning the stolen money. The feeling was nothing short of pride with grounds under it for a change; as though he was standing on his own two feet again.

"Do you believe that, Wright?" he asked, his voice soft with cautiousness but still demanding to know. What was the demand based on? He could only assume that the assertion came from a need to know…to have confirmed what he didn't feel he could establish on his own. Phoenix had brought it up, hadn't he? If anyone could confirm such a thing, it would have been him. Miles turned just slightly to glance towards his rival who had moved and was now standing before his desk, "Do you really believe such a thing?"

Phoenix's gaze was not fixed on Edgeworth despite being closer to him, but rather he looked out the window towards the clouds and sky beyond. Anyone could have tossed out an answer but he had this whole barrier against lying. Dishonesty, he had proved many times in court, only lead a person further into despair. Though Edgeworth gave the façade of being strong and perfect he knew, some how, that he couldn't afford anymore sorrow in his life. By his twenties he'd already been witness to the gruesome death of someone he cherished and admired and unwittingly faced the most devastating betrayal of his life. He was strong because he should have been; not because he actually was.

Even as the question seemed so simple, Phoenix considered if he thought it to be true. After all, he'd already admitted to himself that the line was cliché – a simple way to get him off the hook from really discussing the matter at all. People that heard those words usually scoffed, yet for the first time in a while, Mile's had done no such thing. He turned the question back in need of confirmation, making Phoenix want to think yet…simultaneously…

His eyes turned to Edgeworth and a smile spread across his features, "Of course. You know me, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't! Unless it was one of those times where I meant what I said but it came out wrong…" Nervously he scratched the back of his head, his proud smile turning to one of embarrassment, "But I'm pretty sure we can say that didn't happen here."

Edgeworth watched his once friend, once rival, now an odd combination of both, fidget and laugh at his own shame. He turned partially to head back towards the couch but paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder towards the window. Once more his eyes found that brilliant blue sky and sunlight illuminating the clouds scattered through it, allowing the invisible warmth to envelope him. Speaking lightly, in a voice so soft only he and…perhaps…his father could hear, "What a silly thing to believe."