A/N: I have no idea whether unsolved cases get a number/letter designation code, but let's just say they do. Also, thank you to everyone who's read this so far. I hope you enjoy!


The week after Thanksgiving, Trucy could tell something was different. Usually, she could pick out a minute change anywhere—a nervous twitch in an uncooperative witness, a fellow magician's sleight-of-hand during a card trick, and especially those Spot the Differences activities in magazines. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed this time.

She and her fellow "PM Operatives" (Pearl had suggested that term. When asked where she got the idea, she had just flushed and averted her eyes. "A friend of mine thought of it," was all she would say) were updating each other frequently on any and all developments regarding her father and Mr. Edgeworth, but there didn't appear to have been many. Mr. Edgeworth seemed in a better mood when he took her to and from school, and Daddy seemed pretty chipper these days as well, but living among so many lawyers had taught her that evidence was everything, and so far she had zero to indicate that anything had changed.

Sure, whenever her father and Mr. Edgeworth interacted there were gentle smiles, good-natured teasing, and meaningful looks that lasted perhaps longer than they needed to... but all of that had been going on for years. Trucy wanted something concrete—a love letter, a secret date, even an increased rate of phone calls!

Of course, Trucy was alone in her investigations for the greater portion of the time. Maya was quite busy in Kurain village, Apollo refused to take part in any shenanigans for the most part, and Athena was oddly guarded about the whole situation. Trucy suspected Athena knew something, but whenever she pressed the young attorney about it, she would simply clam up. It was very unlike her. She was usually so easy to see through.

"Look, I totally support Project: Matchmakers," Athena would say, "and I'll help however I can, but as for intruding on Mr. Wright's privacy...I'm not going to do that."

Hmph. Wet blanket.

So for the most part, Trucy's most frequent informant was Pearl. The other teenager seemed just as invested in this project as Trucy herself was. She was only learning how to text, but they kept up regular contact when Trucy wasn't in school.

In fact, as the young magician was in Mr. Edgeworth's car on the way home from school, her cell phone chimed, signaling a new text message. Trucy pulled the phone out of her pocket.

Mr. Nick and Mr. Edgeworth just spoke on the phone for half an hour before he left to pick you up from school! said the message, with impeccable capitalization and no abbreviations as usual. Even in text messages, Pearl was ever the proper lady.

Trucy checked the rearview mirror to make sure Mr. Edgeworth wasn't looking, and then tapped out a reply: good tip! but how do u know this? i didn't know u were in the area... ;)

Oh! I received word from...a friend, Pearl replied. Trucy frowned. This was like the fifth time Pearl had mentioned "a friend" with regards to information relevant to Project: Matchmakers. She was getting a bit tired of having everyone keep things from her. She was the magician; she was the one who was supposed to have lots of secrets!

well i hope u intend on introducing this "friend" sometime... Trucy punched in.

Of course I do! In fact, I am going to meet her later today at the outlet stores, if you would like to join us?

Pearl going on a shopping trip with a friend? That was different. Trucy couldn't help but be curious about this friend of hers.

i'd love that! what time r u thinking?

"Popular today, are we?" came Mr. Edgeworth's voice suddenly. Even sitting down, Trucy managed to jump an impressive amount. Her eyes shot to the rearview mirror, where the prosecutor's keen gray eyes were regarding her, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, haha, yeah, I guess I am getting more texts than usual," Trucy replied, sending him a brief sheepish smile.

Edgeworth's eyes were focused on the road again, but she still felt like they were keeping close watch on her. "Everything all right?" he asked, and the question was so...fatherly that Trucy couldn't help the huge grin that spread across her face.

"Everything's great, Mr. Edgeworth," she assured him, leaning forward in her seat. "Just talking to Pearl. You know, like teenagers do."

This time, both of Mr. Edgeworth's eyebrows shot up. "Pearls knows how to use a cell phone now?"

Come to think of it, I have heard him call Pearl by Daddy's nickname for her before...How did I never notice that? Trucy thought. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she just nodded. "Yeah! Maya bought her one. She's so formal in texts; it's so funny!" She rested her arms on the passenger seat in front of her. "Then again, you're probably the type to text like that too, aren't you?"

"You'll have to ask your father about that," Mr. Edgeworth quipped, and then stiffened like he'd made a terrible mistake, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel and his mouth becoming a flat line.

Instantly, Trucy's senses went on high alert. What did this reaction mean? It was a fairly innocent comment, so why had he suddenly frozen up like that? "What do you mean by that?" she prompted innocently, resting her chin on her arms, which still sat atop the passenger seat.

"Sit back in your seat, Trucy," Edgeworth barked at her.

Trucy did, but then folded her arms and pouted. "That's not an answer," she grumbled.

"Fortunately, I am under no obligation to answer any of your questions," Mr. Edgeworth replied smoothly. Trucy searched his face in the rearview mirror, but it was carefully blank and impassive again. Darn. It seemed he had regained his composure. Any chance Trucy had of getting more information out of him had passed.

Well, fine then, she thought. She'd just have to talk about this interesting tidbit with Pearl and her friend.


"Sorry I'm late!" Trucy cried, running up to where Pearl was seated in the food court. She doubled over, bracing her hands on her thighs and panting. Daddy had only let her go out once she'd finished every last bit of her homework, and of course today had to be a day that Mrs. Bunsen had assigned all the extra Chemistry homework. But now she was free, and ready to discuss a different kind of chemistry!

"Oh, it's okay, Trucy! Are you all right? Why don't you sit down?" Pearl suggested politely. Trucy did, plopping onto the chair next to Pearl's.

"So...where's...your friend?" Trucy breathed, removing her hat and swiping her bangs aside. She finally gave Pearl a once-over. She was dressed in her spirit medium outfit as usual, which was something of a disappointment to Trucy. She'd been wondering if, now that Pearl was texting and going to outlet stores, she'd start dressing more modernly as well. Not that Pearl didn't look cute in her usual clothing, of course.

Pearl's face lit up at the mention of her friend. "Oh, she's over there getting us sodas!" The spirit medium glanced over in the direction of a long line of people in front of a restaurant. Trucy scanned all the people carefully, trying to pick out which of them was Pearl's friend. She didn't have to wonder for long, though, because at that moment a young lady with long black hair dressed in dark pink and navy glanced in their direction and waved crazily.

"The one with the really big ponytail?" Trucy guessed.

Pearl giggled. "That's her!" she said, waving back a little at the woman.

After a few more minutes, Pearl's friend finally made her way over to their table and set down the tray of three sodas. "Hi, Trucy!" she said, flashing a rather cheeky smile. "Good to finally meet you!"

"'Finally'?" Trucy repeated, blinking. She turned to Pearl. "How long have you been friends with her?"

Pearl flushed a little. "Um, I guess a few weeks before Thanksgiving?..." Her slight smile looked a little apologetic. Trucy decided to put aside all her questions about that for now and instead turned to face the newcomer again, popping her hat back onto her head now that she'd caught her breath.

"Um, it's good to meet you, too, uh...?" she prompted, extending her hand.

"Kay!" said the black-haired girl, seizing Trucy's hand and pumping it energetically. "Kay Faraday, Great Thief and longtime friend of Mr. Miles Edgeworth, at your service!"

Trucy blinked, even after Kay released her hand. "Thief?" she echoed. "Friend of Mr. Edgeworth?" She didn't know which part of her introduction was more suspicious.

Kay sat down across from her and rested both elbows on the table, pulling her soda towards herself. "I don't steal things," she assured the young magician. Well, okay. That cleared up nothing, Trucy thought. "And as for the other thing, I've known Edgeworth since I was...about ten years old, I'd say." She slurped from her straw loudly.

"Wow," was all Trucy could say. "Why didn't he ever mention you?"

Kay pouted. "Ouch," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Trucy blurted, her hands flying over her mouth. "I didn't mean it like that! I'm sure Mr. Edgeworth cherishes the memories he made with you!" She fiddled with the clasp of her cloak. "I, I just, um..."

Kay waved off her stuttering apologies. "Aww, it's fine. Mr. Edgeworth doesn't talk about anything he does, much. I'm not exactly surprised. I did think it was a little strange that he didn't contact me the past ten years though..." She gestured to the other two sodas. "Well, aren't you two going to drink those?"

Pearl pulled her cup over and sipped from it daintily. Only she could make slurping from a straw look refined. Trucy followed suit, sipping the drink, which turned out to be grape soda. How in the world had this woman known her favorite soda?...

"Pearl told me," Kay answered her unspoken question, her jade-green eyes glinting knowingly. "She said you love grape soda. Just like your dad likes grape juice."

Trucy shifted a little uncomfortably. She wasn't sure how she felt about this stranger knowing so much about her and her father. "Um, great, thank you," she mumbled, casting her gaze downward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kay shoot Pearl a concerned glance, as if silently asking Is she okay? Pearl gave a glance back that seemed to say Give her a little time. Trucy couldn't help but feel a little jealous that her good friend could suddenly have unspoken conversations with this person.

"I...I think we should discuss what we came here to discuss!" Pearl exclaimed suddenly. "Um, I mean, Project: Matchmakers, of course." She fidgeted with her hair bauble.

"Right, of course!" replied Kay, sitting up straighter. "So, today, as I was hanging around the Prosecutor's Office—"

"Kay is a ninja," Pearl explained helpfully.

"No, no, I'm a professional infiltrator, Pearl," Kay corrected before continuing. "Anyway, I happened to hear a little bit of conversation. Well, one side of it, anyway." A mischievous grin lit up her face.

"How did you hear it?" Trucy asked. "Were you...were you spying on Mr. Edgeworth?" Seriously, who was this suspicious woman?! Then again, she herself was known to pull mysterious objects out of her panties. She wasn't exactly a great judge of "strange."

Kay looked sheepish. She fiddled with a strap on her belt, a holster of some kind. "N-No, I...I was actually there to visit Mr. Edgeworth this time," she said.

"'This time'?" Trucy raised her eyebrows.

"Anyway," Kay ignored her, her voice a little desperate, "I happened to hear something right before I was about to knock on the door. It was Mr. Edgeworth's voice. He was saying 'I really have to go now; I am not accustomed to half-hour phone calls.'"

"He could have been talking to anyone, though," Trucy pointed out.

Kay smirked. "He wasn't. The next thing he said was, 'Don't be ridiculous, Wright; it's not that I don't want to talk longer, it's just that your daughter is waiting to be picked up from school.' And then he said, 'I always drive safely. I'll talk to you soon.'"

"Oh," squeaked Trucy. "I guess it was Daddy he was talking to then."

"Pretty good, right?!" Kay said, leaning forward eagerly. One would have thought she was the youngest person among the three of them, rather than the oldest.

"Oh, yes!" Pearl replied, clasping her hands together dreamily. "I've never heard Mr. Edgeworth say outright that he wants to talk more to Mr. Nick! He's usually so...so..." Her little eyebrows drew together in concentration, and she stared at her soda, trying to think of an accurate description.

"Unfriendly?" Kay suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

Pearl's cheeks turned pink. "I wouldn't say that, exactly, but..." she trailed off. Apparently she couldn't think of what she would say, because then she merely sipped her soda.

"Well, I have a bit of an interesting tale as well," Trucy piped up, fiddling with her straw.

"Oh?" Pearl's big gray eyes looked even bigger when she widened them like that.

"Spill!" Kay commanded.

Trucy nodded, grinning. "Okay, so when Mr. Edgeworth was driving me home, I happened to mention what a fancy texter Pearl here is—" She paused a moment to allow Kay time to recover from the slight snort that had interrupted her drinking her soda.

"It's true!" the other girl laughed. "You text like a little princess, Pearl."

Pearl's shoulders curled in and her face went pink again. "Please don't tease me, you two," she mumbled. "I'm trying my best..."

"It's okay, Pearl," said Trucy, patting her smaller friend on the back. "We think it's cute."

"Agreed!" said Kay, resting her chin in her gloved hand. "Anyway, go on, Trucy, finish the story!"

"Right," Trucy picked up where she left off. "And anyway, I said 'I bet you text that way too,' and he said—" she imitated Mr. Edgeworth's deeper, smooth voice—"'You'll have to ask your father about that!'" She giggled. The other two girls were smiling at her, encouraging her to continue. "That wasn't the best part, though. We all know they text each other; it's nothing new. It was more the fact that after he said that, he froze up with the greatest 'Oh, crap' expression I have ever seen."

"What could that mean?" Pearl asked eagerly.

"That's what I wondered!" Trucy replied.

"I bet I've seen an even better 'oh crap' expression from him, to be honest," Kay said thoughtfully, an expression of fond reminiscence on her face, "Buuut, I'm afraid I can't share that story with you guys. I've been sworn to secrecy." She smirked at them, her eyes lit up with amusement.

"Aw, Kay, that's not fair!" Trucy pleaded. "Come on, at least tell us a little!"

"Nope!" said Kay, crossing her arms firmly. She winked. "But if you ask me yes or no questions, I might be persuaded to answer a couple of them..."

"Did this occur recently?" Pearl burst out.

"No," Kay said at once.

Trucy and Pearl exchanged a slightly disappointed glance. If it wasn't recent, then it probably had nothing to do with what they were here to discuss.

"Did...did my Daddy factor into it at all?" Trucy tried.

Kay's smile grew three sizes. She tapped her nose, signaling a 'yes.' Pearl and Trucy looked at one another again excitedly.

"Okay, when did this happen? How long ago?!" Trucy pressed her.

"Ah-ah-ah," Kay chided. "Those aren't yes or no questions." She leaned back in her chair and grabbed her soda. "And anyway, I answered a couple of your questions, so that's all I can tell you."

Trucy felt like grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her, but instead she just gripped the table. "That's just cruel! It's my Daddy we're talking about; I deserve to know!"

Kay shook her head, furrowing her brow and looking serious for the first time since Trucy had met her. "Sorry, guys, but I really don't want to say any more. If it ever comes out, I want Mr. Edgeworth to be the one to tell you, or for you to find the..." she fumbled her words a little, "the thing yourself." The other two girls groaned. "I don't want to betray Mr. Edgeworth's trust!" she insisted, defensively.

"No, you're right, Kay," Pearl murmured sadly, staring at her lap. "It wouldn't be right to force you to tell us about something like that."

Trucy tapped her chin, ruminating. "So, if it didn't happen recently..." she mused out loud, "And Mr. Edgeworth didn't contact you for ten years..." She fixed her eyes on Kay. "That has to mean that it happened over ten years ago."

Kay's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Whoa, you're as good as Mr. Edgeworth," she breathed.

Pearl beamed. "She's spent a lot of time watching Mr. Nick at work."

"What a coincidence," Kay laughed nervously. "Um, recently...so have I."

Trucy blinked. "What?"

Pearl bit her thumb a little, anxious. "That's the other reason I asked if you'd come with us today, Trucy... Kay here has a little bit of a confession to make." She glanced at the black-haired woman, nodding encouragingly.

Kay sighed and stared at the table rather than at Trucy, but she spoke nevertheless. "During most of the past month...I was kind of...well, sometimes! Not all the time! I'm not some kind of weirdo, okay? I was just...curious, and...!"

"Kay, you're rambling," Trucy pointed out.

"You're right; I'm sorry," she groaned. "I just feel so bad..." She bit her lip, and then grit her teeth in determination. "I was...occasionally following your dad around. To gather information. Because...I'd heard so much about him, and..." She trailed off. Her expression was like a kid being forced to tell an adult that they had eaten all the cookies from the cookie jar.

It took a moment for her words to sink in. "Wait," said Trucy finally, "you were stalking my Daddy?!"

"It wasn't like that!" Kay exclaimed, holding up her hands in a placatory gesture. "Mr. Edgeworth was always so guarded whenever he mentioned him; I couldn't ever get him to talk about him in detail..." She pulled her scarf up over her mouth as if it could smother her own words. Her eyes were downcast. "I just...wanted to see this guy that my friend seemed so crazy about...I didn't mean to upset anyone..."

Trucy's heart softened at that. But still... "Kay, you could have just talked to him," she sighed. "Daddy's really nice! And if you'd said you were a friend of Mr. Edgeworth's, he would have welcomed you with open arms."

"It was force of habit!" Kay said miserably, sinking her forehead into her palms. "I'm used to gathering information like that, and I..." She sighed, lifted her head, and met Trucy's eyes. "What I did was so wrong, and I caused your dad a lot of worry for no reason, and I just wanted to say I'm really sorry."

Trucy held her gaze for a while, but then she nodded. "I accept your apology," she said quietly, "But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, if what you said at the end there is true."

Kay averted her eyes and fiddled with the oddly-shaped badge on her scarf, her expression still looking guiltier than a lot of people Trucy had seen in court. "I know," she admitted. "I...I was too ashamed to tell him directly right now, so...I wanted to start with you." She sat up straight again. "Look, watching people is what I do. It's my job, basically. But...I will apologize to your father. Personally. I promise." She glanced at Pearl, who smiled back with an expression that looked like pride. Kay offered a weak smile in return, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Daddy will forgive you," Trucy assured her. "He's used to forgiving people that hide things from him. It's what he does. It's his job, basically." She grinned at Kay, turning the other girl's words back to her. The smile Kay gave back was the brightest she'd smiled all evening.

"All right, girls," Kay said, her happy-go-lucky attitude returning full-force. She tugged on the wrists of her gloves. "Who wants to go shopping?"

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable going shopping with a thief," Trucy quipped.

Kay laughed. "Don't worry, Trucy. All this Great Thief steals is the truth...and maybe some hearts."


By the time Trucy was on the bus home, she and Kay had become friends. They had each other's numbers in their phones, and promised to keep in touch. Kay assured Trucy that she would arrange to formally meet the guy she'd followed around for weeks and apologize to him. Pearl was really some kind of girl, to get a professional spy to want to apologize for spying. Trucy smiled at the thought, and leaned against the window of the bus. This turned out to be a bad idea. It always looked so contemplative and deep in movies and stuff, but in reality the window vibrated fiercely when the bus was in motion. How did all those actors not get their brains scrambled?

Speaking of things vibrating, this was what Trucy's phone did now. She pulled it out of her pocket.

forgot to say this earlier, but... im glad you guys accepted me into project matchmakers! ill be sure to gather my information from now on in a RESPECTFUL and FORTHCOMING manner. ;)

Trucy grinned and typed in her response.

sounds good. but...if u wanna occasionally keep an eye on mr. edgeworth, i don't have a problem with it. he's your friend after all...

The reply was almost instantaneous.

pshhh, of course. what do you take me for?

Yep, Trucy decided. Kay was definitely suspicious, but she was also definitely a valuable ally.

Not for the first time, Phoenix wasn't quite sure where he stood. Since that fateful Thanksgiving night, his relationship with Edgeworth was different, but also exactly the same. They were both acting the same as they always had, but with a certain amount of knowledge behind every action. Phoenix let himself be a little less careful in how often he contacted him, because now he knew for a fact that Edgeworth liked hearing from him. At least, he was pretty sure he knew that. Sometimes he was tempted to maybe say more playful things than usual to him, just to see how he'd react...

But the truth was, he wasn't sure how much of that voicemail had been Edgeworth and how much had been Captain Morgan.

Sure, Edgeworth had indeed called him the next day as Phoenix had asked. But other than requesting that he "please lower your voice, Wright; my head feels like it's in a compression vise," and suggesting that he swing by to retrieve his car later that day, he hadn't really sounded any different than he had any other time they'd spoken on the phone. It was almost a little disappointing, after that sort-of love confession. That was what it had been, hadn't it? He had said it, clear as day. Okay, so it wasn't clear; it was actually really slurred, and it had been night. But still, the words had come out: "I love you." And yes, the last word might have been hastily changed to "unicorns," but Phoenix wasn't an idiot. At least not all the time. He thought his response had been rather clever, but either Edgeworth didn't understand the defense attorney's sudden affection for horned equines, or he was refusing to acknowledge the meaning behind the words. Phoenix's money, if he had a little more, would be on the latter.

And so he found himself laying on his back on the couch in his apartment, flipping through an old newspaper idly, not really seeing any of the words on the page but instead going over all the recent ones he'd exchanged with the prosecutor. Just this afternoon, when Edgeworth had said he had to get off the phone, Phoenix had put on a pouty voice and said, "What, you don't want to talk to me anymore?"

He expected a scoff and a hang-up in response, but instead Edgeworth had surprised him by replying, "Don't be ridiculous, Wright; it's not that I don't want to talk more, it's just that your daughter is waiting to be picked up from school."

Phoenix knew that, of course. He'd just wanted to shake the unflappable prosecutor up a little. But instead, Phoenix had been the one shaken up. "R-right," he stammered. "Uh...drive safe, Edgeworth."

"I always drive safely," came the other man's voice, steady, reassuring. "I'll talk to you later." Then he'd hung up.

He'd gotten to talk to Miles Edgeworth for an entire half-hour, and yet he still got an "I'll talk to you later" at the end? Phoenix didn't know whether to be ecstatic at the promise of further contact, or frustrated that it was only a phone call.

Trucy had insisted on going out after finishing her homework, saying she was going to meet some friends at the mall, and Phoenix had reluctantly let her go. She was a big girl; she could watch out for herself by now. So now the defense attorney was attempting to pass the time by reading this dumb newspaper, even though he was far too consumed in thought to read at the moment. Maybe he should go for a walk. Or watch TV. Or just...stare at this newspaper some more; whatever.

Suddenly, the Steel Samurai theme rang out into the quiet air. Phoenix nearly fell off the couch in alarm, flailing his arms and legs, before he fumbled his phone out of his pocket and answered the call.

"Ph-Phoenix Wright speaking," he answered hastily.

"What's the matter, Wright? You sound like you just ran up a flight of stairs," said the sardonic voice he loved so much.

"Edgeworth?" he said, sitting up straight. "Is something wrong? Not that I'm not glad to hear from you, but uh...it's only been a few hours."

"Well, I did say I would talk to you later," Edgeworth reminded him.

"Th-that's true," Phoenix admitted.

"However, the actual reason I have called you is..." He paused. Phoenix knew better than to hold his breath. Edgeworth wasn't the type to randomly call and say romantic things. Well, not when he was sober anyway.

"Is...?" Phoenix prompted.

"May I...come in to your office to work for a few days?" Edgeworth's words came out in a rush, as if they'd been behind a dam and he had just forced them through a crack.

Phoenix froze. "I..." His mind raced. This was quite a move. Or was it? He'd mentioned work. It wasn't like he'd asked to stay over. Get ahold of yourself, Phoenix, he scolded himself. This is Edgeworth. Don't jump to any ridiculous conclusions. "I mean, you're always welcome at the Agency," he finally got out. "But what brought this on?..."

Edgeworth gave a long-suffering sigh. "They are doing maintenance in my office. For about a week. They insist upon meddling with the air vents and the phone lines, and...essentially I won't get any peace and quiet there until they are done," he explained. Phoenix could see him now, rubbing the spot between his eyes, his glasses halfway down his nose.

"Well, you're not likely to get any peace and quiet around here either," he pointed out teasingly, resting his feet on the far arm of the couch.

"I know," Edgeworth said with a groan, "So clearly, you must understand that I'm desperate."

Well. There were several ways he could respond to that statement. Not that he was brave enough to try 90% of them. Instead, he stammered a very intelligent "Y-yeah, definitely," followed by an awkward chuckle. He screwed his eyes shut. That had sounded so stupid. Damn it, there had pretty much been a mutual admission of feelings between them; why was throwing out a flirtatious line now and then so difficult?

Edgeworth sighed again, but this time it sounded relieved. "Thank you," he said sincerely. He had come a long way from the guy who once needed instruction on how to express gratitude. Phoenix's heart warmed at the thought.

"Hey, anytime," he responded. Drat. His voice had come out all soft and sentimental. He cleared his throat, aiming for a more casual tone. "S-So, what time can I expect you tomorrow at the Agency?"

"I suppose around 8 o'clock."

"8 o'clock?" Phoenix yelped, grabbing the back of the couch with one hand. "In the morning? Geez, Edgeworth, do you ever sleep?"

"Not much," Edgeworth fired back easily, but then added, "and 8 o'clock is a perfectly ordinary time to start work, Wright. Many people start their workday at 8 o'clock."

"Yeah, but I don't..." Phoenix mumbled.

"Most of the time you don't start your workday at all." Phoenix could envision the smirk on his stupid, beautiful face at that comment.

"Hardy-har, let's all make fun of the defense attorney who doesn't have a case right now."

Edgeworth's quiet chuckle sounded in his ear, and the hairs on the back of Phoenix's neck stood up. "What can I say?" said the prosecutor. "I have been described as 'a real stuck-up jerk.'"

"Boy, you're never gonna let her live that one down, are you?" Phoenix muttered. Poor Ema.

"Would you rather I come in at 9?" Edgeworth continued, not answering Phoenix's rhetorical question.

"N-No, it's okay, I'll...I'll be there at 8 to let you in," Phoenix decided. "Wouldn't want to mess up the great Miles Edgeworth's work schedule."

"All right." A pause. Then, quietly, hesitantly, "I...I look forward to it."

Phoenix's stomach flipped over. Was Edgeworth actually attempting to express feelings right now? To him? While he was sober? "M-Me too," he breathed. "Can't wait."

"See you then."

"Okay," he said. Feeling a reckless surge of bravery, he added one last thing: "Bye, Miles."

He ended the call before Edgeworth could respond, silently telling his heart to calm down already. It had been years of this. Gathering the courage to call his best friend by his first name should not make him feel like a teenager asking someone to prom. Hearing his voice in his ear should not make him feel higher-strung than a soprano violin. Promising to be there to open the door for him at 8 in the morning should not make him feel like he was preparing for a first date.

But whatever. Miles Edgeworth always seemed to make him feel things he never thought he'd feel.


It was 7:30 AM on Tuesday morning, and Phoenix was looking around at his office as if seeing it for the first time.

It really was a dump. A colorful, chaotic, wonderful dump, but still...a dump. Did he really expect Edgeworth to be able to work in these conditions?

He yawned, his eyes tearing up at the corners. Well, he only had half an hour, but he supposed he should try to do what he could about this place.

Gathering up all of Trucy's magic props, he stacked them in one corner of the room. They took up much less space when they were all grouped together. At least, that was how his sleepy brain justified the magic miscellany migration. Trucy would probably get upset if she saw how many of her props he'd moved...he resolved to move everything back to where it had been once Edgeworth had gone.

He checked his watch. 7:43. Maybe he had some time to do some dusting? Sure, why not. He grabbed some supplies from the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Well, he thought, glancing around the bathroom, at least the toilet was always polished to gleaming perfection. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, and winced. He looked like a mess in his rumpled white button-down and worn jeans. Clearly, Phoenix Wright was never meant to be up this early. Turning on the sink, he attempted to adjust his hair a little bit. He gave himself another once-over afterward. Better. Not by much, but...better.

He was just finishing dusting off that pointless piano when there was a knock at the door. Phoenix jolted. He tried to keep his pace even as he went to answer the door.

Miles Edgeworth was impeccably dressed, composed, and did not look any more tired than usual. He inclined his head as Phoenix stepped aside to let him in. "Good morning, Wright," he said. He didn't sound the least bit nervous. Well, that was fine. Phoenix was plenty nervous enough for both of them.

"Morning," he replied, feeling jumpy. He decided not to tack on Edgeworth's name. The last time he'd said his name, it had been his first name. It seemed weird to switch back to a last-name basis after he'd put himself out there, but it would have been equally uncomfortable to take a risk like that again right in front of him. He stared at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh...go ahead and have a seat anywhere," he told his guest. "Want some coffee? Our machine's a little...temperamental, but I can usually get it to behave."

Edgeworth sat down primly on one of the couches, his wine-red suit seeming to blend right into the color of the couch. "Coffee sounds good," he agreed.

"Hmmm," Phoenix said as he turned on the coffeemaker. "It's hard to tell, since you never say any more words than you need to, but...you don't seem like a morning person, Edgeworth." When he wasn't facing the prosecutor, it was a little easier to tease him like this.

"I've been kicked out of my own office," the other man sighed. "Of course I'm not a morning person today."

Phoenix hesitated, still facing away from him. He pressed the button to brew the coffee. "I mean, I would think seeing a good friend would perk you up a bit," he ventured, keeping his voice steady.

"Believe it or not, I am indeed much more energetic now than I was an hour ago," Edgeworth informed him. Phoenix glanced over his shoulder, and caught a glimpse of the prosecutor allowing himself to slouch a little on the couch. He suppressed a grin. The idea of Edgeworth feeling comfortable enough to relax on the couch in the Agency...it was a nice feeling.

"Well," he said, pouring some steaming-hot, freshly-brewed liquid into a mug and bringing it over to the other man, "You better drink this. If you fell asleep on me I don't think I'd have the heart to kick you out."

Both attorneys froze up.

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" Phoenix blurted, feeling his face radiate heat. His delicate composure went belly-up like a dead goldfish. "I meant, like, 'don't fall asleep on me here man,' like, that's an expression, I-I-I didn't, I mean—"

"Wright," Edgeworth cut him off, lifting a hand for silence. His cheeks had gone the most perfect shade of pink. "Give me the coffee. And then make some for yourself. You seem quite tired."

Phoenix surrendered the coffee mug. He wondered which was giving off the most heat right now: the coffee, or his face? "Um, yeah, I am," he murmured, accepting the metaphorical lifeline Edgeworth had just thrown him. He was trying to save him from that amazingly embarrassing statement. Whatever anyone else said, Miles Edgeworth was a kind, merciful man when it counted.

Before he could release any other horrifyingly revealing double entendres, he shuffled off, taking the opportunity while he was faced away from Edgeworth again to get his heart under control. Good God. He was amazed Edgeworth hadn't just stood up and walked out of the office after that train wreck of a line. But then he remembered: Edgeworth wasn't here to visit him. He was here because his office was currently out of commission. And instead of letting the man work, Phoenix had unintentionally harassed him. Fantastic. How was he going to recover from this one?

Even after he'd finished pouring his own coffee, he stood facing the coffeemaker, sipping occasionally from his mug.

Eventually, a great sigh arose from the couch. "For God's sake, Wright, sit down already."

"Okay," he said obediently, and plopped himself on the couch across from Edgeworth, who had gotten some papers out of his briefcase. He'd also removed his glasses and placed them on the clear glass coffee table. For a while, there was silence. Occasionally Edgeworth turned a page. Phoenix abruptly realized that he had nothing to do while Edgeworth was here, unless he wanted to dig out old case files and make notes.

"Well," he said at length, "I-I can go now, since you're pretty much settled in. I mean...I don't have much to do here today, and you seem pretty busy, so..." He trailed off, staring at the haphazard pile of magic props in the corner. Why had he thought that was a good idea? They looked ridiculous just laying on the floor like that. Nice going, 7:30 AM Phoenix Wright.

"I'm not going to kick you out of your own office, Wright," Edgeworth grumbled.

"Why not? You got kicked out of yours."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. He counted off some pages of the file he was going through and shoved half of them over the table towards Phoenix. "Here. Highlight all the times the letters HL-4 appear on these pages."

Phoenix blinked down at the stack of papers. "You...want me to help?" he asked, glancing up at the prosecutor.

"You've already helped by lending me your office, but if you're going to mope around feeling bored, I may as well give you something to do," Edgeworth said mildly, turning another page. "Bored" wasn't exactly the word Phoenix would have used, but his point was well taken.

"Okay," the defense attorney said, shooting his friend a smile. "I'd be glad to help. But, y'know, if you ever need a quieter workspace, just let me know and I can, uh...step out for lunch, or whatever. I know you value your solitude." He grabbed one of the highlighters Edgeworth had put on the coffee table and dragged the bright yellow tip over the top of page 7.

Edgeworth paused in the middle of turning a page. "You aren't mistaken in saying that, but you're not taking one thing into account," he said. His voice was smooth, but Phoenix detected a hint of something underneath, as if nervousness was only being covered by a thin layer of poise. But perhaps that was wishful thinking.

"Well, go ahead, mighty Chief Prosecutor," Phoenix goaded him. "What am I failing to consider?" He glanced up to smirk at him challengingly, but was surprised to see that Edgeworth's face was a little flushed again.

The prosecutor cleared his throat and opened up another folder, holding it way higher up than it needed to be, as if trying to hide his face. "I may value my solitude," Edgeworth said quietly, "but I also value your company."

A sparkler crackled in Phoenix's chest, a small, sputtering, joyful light. He couldn't help the wide grin that spread over his face. "Thanks, Edgeworth," he said, voice warm with sincerity. Edgeworth flicked his eyes up to meet Phoenix's, and the ghost of a returning smile flitted across his face as well.

Phoenix had just highlighted the letters HL-4 for the sixth time (HL-4 turned out to be an as-yet unsolved case of recent serial kidnappings...pretty scary stuff, Phoenix thought) when a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Edgeworth," he started.

"What," the prosecutor said. He turned his page over.

"How come you didn't just bring your work home? Wouldn't that have been easier?"

Edgeworth shuffled his papers a little longer than he needed to. He uncapped his highlighter, but didn't move to use it. "I didn't want to drive all the way home."

"But..." Phoenix's brow furrowed in thought. "It's farther to the Agency from the Prosecutor's Office than it is to your place, right?"

"Traffic's bad," said the other man shortly, re-capping his unused highlighter.

"But it's really early. There aren't that many people on the road around this time."

"My car's been acting up."

Phoenix sat up straighter, alarmed. "It is? Why didn't you tell me before? Is it all right to be driving around with Trucy in? Shouldn't you get it rep—"

"Are you completely obtuse, Phoenix?" Edgeworth burst out suddenly, letting the folder he'd been holding drop onto the table with a thwap. "Do I really have to spell it out for you why I chose to do my work here, even knowing what a circus this place usually is?" His brows were drawn together. His cheeks were dusted pink. His gray eyes had slight dark circles under them, making him look perpetually tired. His bangs were just a little crooked, which Phoenix hadn't noticed before.

"Apparently you do have to spell it out, because I don't unders..." Suddenly Phoenix stopped short. He mentally rewound the prosecutor's words. "Wait," he said. "What did you just say?"

"This place is a circus."

"No, no, before that," the defense attorney prompted, resting his palms on his knees and looking at the other man intently. "You said..." His heart thudded. "You said, 'are you completely obtuse...'" He felt a giddy grin spread from ear to ear. "...'Phoenix.'"

Edgeworth looked like someone had told him there was a ghost behind him. Well, if he believed in ghosts, that's how he'd look, anyway. "N...No I didn't," he said, burying his nose in another folder.

"Yes you did!" Phoenix insisted, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Go get another mug of coffee, Wright; you're still half-asleep," Edgeworth muttered lamely.

"Edgeworth, we've known each other for over two decades. It's okay if you want to call me by my first name," Phoenix said, coaxingly.

"Me?!" the prosecutor exclaimed, closing the file and flinging it onto the cushion next to him. He was blushing, and Phoenix thought it was precious. "You're the one who ended a phone call with my first name!"

It was Phoenix's turn to blush now. "Well, I..." He had no idea how to finish that sentence. He sunk back into the couch, suddenly timid again. He thought for a moment. "Well, I...'m still waiting on that explanation," he finally finished. Nice save, Phoenix, he thought.

"Explanation?" Edgeworth raised his eyebrows.

"You said you had to spell out why you chose to work here instead of at home or, y'know, anyplace quieter," the defense attorney reminded him.

Miles—wait, no, Edgeworth, dammit—sighed and massaged his temples. Phoenix waited patiently. Edgeworth finally grabbed his folded glasses and started buffing them with a cloth from his pocket, looking at them intently instead of at Phoenix. He then put the glasses back on the table. Had he just polished them to have something to fidget with? "I...wanted to..." The prosecutor trailed off into words that were so quiet that Phoenix blinked and just leaned forward.

"What?"

Edgeworth glared at him. "I chose to come here because I just wanted to see you, Phoenix Wright!" he exploded.

The room was quiet, for several long seconds. The defense attorney stared at the prosecutor, who stared at the floor through the coffee table.

Phoenix was, of course, the first to open his mouth again to speak. How should he play this? Should he respond as earnestly as Miles had just done, or should he try to help him save face by making a joke? No; he couldn't make light of that. Not now. For Edgeworth, such a statement was as upfront as it got. He hadn't come here out of necessity after all. He had come here because he had wanted to be with him, Phoenix Wright. Alone. He felt as if he'd finally found the right prescription at the eye doctor's: the frustratingly blurry sight reading chart had rapidly come into sharp focus. He could see everything clearly now.

"You don't need an excuse to come see me, Miles Edgeworth," he finally said. He intended it to sound a little teasing, but it had come out more gentle. Edgeworth hazarded a glance up at him, but the sappy smile on Phoenix's face must have been truly cloying, because he immediately groaned and sank his forehead into his palm, hiding his face.

"You're the worst," Miles told him.

"So I've heard," Phoenix responded, grinning at the memory of how that voicemail had started out.

"I walked right into that one," Miles admitted, still covering his eyes, then jumped as a hand gently pried his own away from his face. Phoenix had sat down on the other couch next to him before the prosecutor had realized it. He was turned to the side to face the prosecutor, and unknowingly, Miles twisted in his seat to mirror the position.

"What...what are you doing," stammered Miles, leaning backward away from the defense attorney, eyes searching anywhere but the face of the man looking at him. Despite this apparent frantic behavior, he made no attempt to pull his hand out of Phoenix's grasp.

"Don't hide yourself from me anymore," Phoenix said. "You're always hiding. We're always hiding. What are we so afraid of?" He'd been leaning closer, and though Edgeworth was almost as red as his suit, he did not move away.

Instead, his slate-gray eyes finally met Phoenix's. "I'm afraid of everything about this," he said, darting his gaze away again. His words were quieter than a whisper.

"It's just me," Phoenix said. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Miles, look at me."

He did. Phoenix felt his heart stop, and then kick into overdrive. Those gray eyes were dark, light irises swallowed in widened pupils and framed by jet-black lashes. He could feel Miles's racing pulse when he ran his fingers over the other man's wrist, interlaced their fingers. When he finally moved that extra little bit and rested his forehead against the other's, he could feel how flushed and warm Miles was, and Phoenix smiled. Here he'd been thinking that he was the only one who went into a tizzy when they were close...it was quite satisfying to discover otherwise.

"Stop smirking," Miles demanded, though without any force behind his words.

"Make me," Phoenix smirked wider, but he tried to convey a second message with his searching eyes: This is up to you. I'm never going to force you.

Miles' eyes bored into Phoenix's, and he thought he got the return message: You don't have to force me. "I have to make you, huh?" the prosecutor repeated, tilting his head.

He did.

Phoenix certainly couldn't smirk anymore. He couldn't do anything but feel. In that moment, it was as if years of monochrome memories were replaced with brilliant color. From the days of watching the black-and-white newsprint sprawl across the page, his head filling with white noise wondering what had ever happened to Miles Edgeworth to turn him into a Demon Prosecutor; to seven dark years during which only two people ever really understood him; every memory seemed to lead up to this moment, which brought them all together and painted them with colors he had never seen until now.

He gripped Miles' hand tight, absentmindedly moving his thumb up and down the side of the other's index finger, a soothing touch. His other hand came up to trace the side of Miles' face with his fingertips, moving from his temple to his jawline. Miles responded by pulling away to suck in a breath before cradling Phoenix's head in his own free hand and bringing their mouths together again. Stars shot across the dark sky behind Phoenix's eyelids, red and blue and gold. He pressed his lips insistently against every touch, wanting Miles to understand how long he'd been waiting for this.

When they broke apart, their eyes met. Miles' irises were just a thin silver ring around his wide-blown pupils now, and they looked even darker when his eyes were half-lidded like that. His mouth was slightly open as he caught his breath, and feeling the puffs of air so close to him made Phoenix want to capture him in another kiss. He restrained himself, though, as he was short of breath himself.

He should say something, he thought suddenly. You can't just kiss the guy you've been in love with for decades like 5 times and not say something meaningful afterward. But what should he say? "Thank you for trusting me"? "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that"? "I have never loved the taste of coffee more than right now"?

Instead of any of these romantic sentiments, what he blurted out was "Wow."

Miles just nodded. "Wow," he agreed, and leaned close to him again. Phoenix let his eyes fall closed, and met him halfway.


A/N: Next chapter: Apollo dines with giggly girls. Miles interviews a bulldog.