Sour

This was the flavor of happiness: a sour taste, tart and astringent on the tongue.

Phoenix stared at the board, knowing defeat was inevitable. Edgeworth had him cornered. Only a few pawns, a knight, and a bishop remained to protect his king, while most of the prosecutor's pieces remained in play.

For all the years they had been teaching each other cards and games, Edgeworth still had the upper hand when it came to chess. Phoenix had come a long way from that first bumbling game, when he had barely remembered how each piece moved and he fumbled the match in a handful of turns. But even with years of experience under his belt, he only bested the prosecutor every once in a while. It was a point of pride for his partner, evidenced by the fact that Edgeworth could have replaced the board with something sleeker to match his upgraded office, but he instead chose to keep this battered set with the red and blue pieces, worn from years of victories and singular defeats.

He huffed out a resigned breath, feeling that unruly lock of hair on his forehead shake.

"You'll have to make a move at some point," Edgeworth said from behind his desk. Phoenix didn't even need to look up to know that his partner was smirking.

"Just… let me think," he mumbled, squinting and chewing on his lip. There had to be a way out of this trap.

"Try not to hurt yourself."

Phoenix reached into the bag of confections in his lap and withdrew another sour piece, and popped it into his mouth. He could never pronounce the name of the lemon drops; they were some German brand, favored by Edgeworth and his sister. They were usually kept locked away in Edgeworth's bottom drawer, though he couldn't imagine anyone stealing from the Chief Prosecutor.

Well, aside from Kay.

It still shocked him how quickly his mouth puckered around the candy, but at least it kept his attention sharp. As his tongue recovered, his fragile comeback plan was shattered by a polite knock outside the door.

"Come in," Edgeworth called, shuffling aside a sheaf of papers and rising from his seat.

Ema Skye poked her head inside. "Chief Prosecutor? I have the luminol results you asked for."

Edgeworth relaxed, his features softening into something close to a fond smile, and he beckoned her over. "Let me see it."

Phoenix gave her a little wave as she strode past. "Hey, Ema."

She paused, eyes flitting over the board. "Are… Are you going to move that one?"

He gave her a blank stare. "Which one?"

"Ms. Skye, I'll thank you not to interfere in our match." Edgeworth's voice came out a tad sharp, as though she had nearly spoiled a surprise.

"Oh!" A faint pink tint bloomed across her cheeks. "I'm sorry. Here." She shoved a folder into Edgeworth's hands and turned away, staring out the broad windows.

Phoenix watched them for a moment: Edgeworth, leafing through the papers with practiced ease; and Ema, fiddling with the cuff on her jacket and trying not to tap her foot. His gaze traveled to her armband, signifying her role as a forensics investigator. She wore it proudly, treating it with as much care as he did his own badge. He could understand her feelings there; after chasing a dream for so long – and losing it – there was something comforting in keeping such a prominent physical embodiment of their achievement in peak condition.

He remembered her face when she told him she had failed the forensics exam, remembered hugging her even as the cynical part of him wondered if both of them had been cursed to fail in their goals. Over time, he'd found an unlikely confidant in his one-time assistant. Maya was often away for training, and Edgeworth had his studies in Europe, and he could never unload his burdens onto Trucy. No one else had understood his pain in quite the same way Ema did. It might have been a little unhealthy, but at least around each other they could be as sarcastic and sour and jaded as they pleased.

If life doled out lemons, sometimes it felt good to just wallow in the rinds.

But they'd made the most of their lemons, and she smiled more like she used to. Both of them did, now.

She reached into a pocket and let out a dismayed gasp when her hands came out empty. "Shoot… Must have left them at home."

Ah. Some habits still died hard.

"Here." He stretched out his arm, offering the bag of citrus candies.

Ema fished a few out and leaned over his shoulder. "Small pawns have big dreams, you know," she whispered, a conspiring grin flashing across her face. She straightened and adjusted the pink glasses perched on her head. "You shouldn't give up yet. Scientifically speaking."

…What did science have to do with chess?

"I'd hate to refer you to Prosecutor Sahdmadhi for a salary review." Edgeworth said lightly as he dropped the results beside his laptop. He folded his arms, lips twitching into a friendly – yet somehow still sinister – smile. "Or Prosecutor Gavin."

Ema's eyes widened and she stuffed several lemon drops into her mouth, wincing. Phoenix snickered.

"But thank you for your timely report," Edgeworth continued. "I wish more of our investigators had your dedication."

"Th-Thank you." Her blush jumped from pink to crimson. Old crushes died hard too, apparently. Her phone chimed and her fingers flew to it, eager to escape her embarrassment. At once her expression melted into a heartfelt smile.

"It's Lana!"

Phoenix's eyebrows shot up and he threw a glance over at Edgeworth, who looked just as surprised.

Ema beamed at them. "She's moving into her apartment and sent me a picture. Look!" She turned the screen out, and both Phoenix and Edgeworth moved closer to view the photo.

And there she was, standing amidst brown packing boxes and old furniture: Lana Skye.

The time served for legal tampering left little outward impression on her. The sunlight streaming through the apartment windows caught on little silver streaks in her chestnut hair, the most obvious sign of her imprisonment. She was a little more slender, perhaps, but she still held herself tall with careful grace. Her lips were turned up almost coyly, her expression soft and poignant, reminiscent of a portrait like the Mona Lisa. Her eyes were turned to the camera, and they were still the same deep, enigmatic blue.

It almost seemed like no time had passed at all.

Phoenix felt warmth spread through his chest. "I'm glad she's doing well."

This was the Lana he wanted to remember: not the cold, stoic client turning her back on him in the detention center, but the loving woman who could finally smile at her sister again. The photo tugged at his heart.

"Actually, um…" Ema trailed off, shoving the phone back into her pocket, eyes on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Edgeworth asked gently, a note of genuine concern seeping into his tone. It caught Phoenix off-guard.

"She's… having some trouble getting a job," Ema admitted with reluctance. "Background checks. And she's barred from public service, so…" Her head shot up. "But we'll figure it out. You don't need to worry."

Phoenix tilted his head, considering. "She has experience in the courtroom. Would she consider giving the defense's side a try? There's precedence for attorneys becoming prosecutors, so it can probably work the other way as well." An image flashed through his mind: white hair, a glowing red visor, a coffee mug.

Ema's shoulders sank. "The firms she's tried won't give her a chance. No one trusts her anymore."

That cynical part of Phoenix reared its head. Of course no one trusted a convicted felon, especially in the legal field. He was all-too familiar with how difficult it was to make a living carrying a tainted reputation. An even more sour taste filled his mouth.

"Then allow me." Edgeworth returned to his desk and rifled through a drawer, leaving Phoenix and Ema to exchange bewildered looks. In moments he withdrew a business card from his organizer and pressed it into her palm.

"What's this?" She squinted at the fine print. "Edgeworth Law Offices?"

Edgeworth gave her a firm nod. "She may not be allowed to practice in court anymore, but she can certainly serve as a legal consultant. She has a wealth of experience that should be of use to any attorney. I will send them a message to expect a call from her. If she has any interest, that is."

"I'm not even going to ask why there's a law office with your name. I know better than to look a gift-horse in the mouth." Though Phoenix could sense she was brimming with questions, Ema nonetheless kept them contained, unasked. That was another hard lesson they had both learned; sometimes it was better to simply accept aid, rather than ruin it with unnecessary doubt.

"Thank you, Mister Edgeworth." She sounded so much younger, using his more informal title.

Ema ran her finger along the edge of the card, like it was a precious lifeline, and with care she tucked it into her phone case. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, mentally resetting, focusing her thoughts away from her sister and back to the matter at hand. When her eyes opened again, she had a bright smile on her face.

"Okay then! Let me explain what our tests found."


"That was unexpected," Phoenix said, once they were alone again in the office. He perched on the edge of Edgeworth's desk, staring down at his partner with a quizzical expression.

"Kindly get off my desk, Wright."

"I will if you explain your sudden generosity."

Phoenix nudged him with his leg, encouraging him to open up. It wasn't every day the prosecutor put his own reputation on the line for someone else, not without a good reason. Curiosity burned inside him.

Edgeworth closed his laptop lid and sighed, and then removed his glasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket. "Ms. Skye – Chief Prosecutor Skye, that is – I owe her a few favors."

"What kind of favors?" Did Edgeworth keep a tally of everyone he felt even remotely indebted to?

"She is… not the only prosecutor I know who sacrificed everything for a loved one and was scapegoated by a monster," Edgeworth said, glancing aside as he avoided Phoenix's question. "I wish to help her, the same way we cleared Prosecutor Blackquill's name."

Phoenix waited, allowing his partner time to work around what was apparently a more emotional issue than he anticipated.

After a moment, Edgeworth relented. "Ms. Skye offered me her encouragement when I first started my career." In a softer voice, he added. "She was one of the few sources of support I had in those days."

Sometimes he forgot that even Edgeworth couldn't always face the world alone.

He hummed in thought, ideas tumbling over in his head. "She could have a place at the Agency, you know."

Edgeworth's eyes remained fixed on his legal files. "You already do too much," he said a twinge of sharpness in that deep baritone.

"But it would –"

"Phoenix."

Edgeworth finally met his gaze, and he was startled to see a flash of – not anger, not the spark of an argument, but more like an ember stoked into a brief glow. Phoenix glanced aside, unsure of what to make of that look or that tone of voice or the way something uncertain was uncoiling now in his stomach.

At once Edgeworth's hand reached over and clasped Phoenix's palm, his grip reassuringly tight.

"Understand my position. I requested your help with Prosecutor Blackquill because I could not finish this work without you. And I asked for your aid in Europe for several reasons: to integrate an opposing view to my studies, to solve implausible cases, to… enjoy your personal company," Edgeworth said, a slight pink tinge peaking beneath his glasses. He paused, and swallowed hard before continuing.

"I needed your assistance then. This time, I do not. And neither does Lana Skye."

Phoenix's mouth opened, but no sound escaped. He wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement, though that cold feeling in Phoenix's stomach eased, beginning to melt into something warmer.

Edgeworth squeezed his hand, and to Phoenix's surprise he offered a small smile. "You are the most selfless man I know. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I also wish to indulge in the satisfaction of helping an old friend."

"You, selfish?" Phoenix finally found his voice, and he returned Edgeworth's handhold. "That's not the man I know."

The smile broadened, just a bit. "You don't have to help everyone," Edgeworth said, pointedly ignoring the compliment. "Not all of us are foolish enough to run across a burning bridge, but we can be perfectly capable of helping one another on our own."

There was no stopping the shaky breath Phoenix suddenly exhaled. Oh. That warmth spread to his chest, to his face; it filled all of Phoenix, filled him with pride for his partner. He dropped a long kiss on Edgeworth's forehead. "All right," he said, conceding. "All right."

Maybe Edgeworth was right; he didn't have to shoulder the burden of saving everyone. At least, not alone.

"If you're going to be affectionate, at least make sure the door is locked."

Ah, there was the grumpy prosecutor he knew. As promised, Phoenix scooted off the desk, chuckling at the indignant squawk about smearing the polish. After securing the deadbolt, he returned and maneuvered one knee to the outside of Edgeworth's hip, then the other. He seated himself across those strong thighs and soundly kissed him, only stopping once Edgeworth relaxed against him.

Sometimes, emotion was so much easier with actions, not words.

Edgeworth cleared his throat, lips still hovering dangerously close. "It's still your turn."

"Hmm?"

"Our chess match."

Phoenix nuzzled at Edgeworth's neck. The chess game was the farthest thing from his mind. He was more interested in showing exactly how he thought of Miles: his hidden kindness. His dedication. That way he quietly took the sting out of a setback.

His infuriating intellect.

"What's the point? You've already got me pinned."

He caught a glimpse of Edgeworth's eyeroll as he pulled back to capture that mouth again. "If you would–" Edgeworth attempted to say around Phoenix's lips, "just consider–" Another kiss. "Your positional play–"

"Oh, is that what you want right now?" Phoenix grinned and shifted his hips.

"–You would not be in such a bind," Edgeworth finished, attempting one of his signature glares. Its effect was lessened by the flush creeping across pale cheeks.

"Binding, yes, we could do that," Phoenix murmured, playfully pressing down on Edgeworth's wrists.

He was pleased to feel a stirring beneath him. But Edgeworth was not ready to give up.

"You could consider the tactic of prophylaxis–"

"Prophylactics? Here in your office? Scandalous." Oh, it was fun to watch him get flustered. Even their legal banter rarely afforded such perfect innuendos.

"Wright. If you ever used your head, you wouldn't fall for such obvious traps."

"How could I predict you'd attack my king and queen with one piece?" He moved in earnest now, grinding down into Edgeworth's lap and sliding his hands along his smooth waistcoat. "You have me royally forked."

It was impossible to tell if Edgeworth's groan was one of arousal, or merely annoyance at his chess-themed pun.

Wait a second.

Phoenix halted his movements and leapt back from the chair, ignoring Edgeworth's dismayed groan and half-serious threats, and raced over to the chess set.

Of course.

He slid his pawn to Edgeworth's side of the board, eyes wide. Little pawns really did have big dreams.

"Your move, Miles." He popped another lemon drop into his mouth and whipped around, triumphant. "But now you'll have to deal with my new queen."