Gumshoe didn't mean to, not at all -- he knew how Mr. Edgeworth didn't like things like that. But his very favourite green trenchcoat, folded neat and smelling crisp-clean just as he was sure he'd never see it again, and he couldn't think of a thing he'd rather get. He slid its familiar weight back on and he lit up Christmas-bright at the thought of it being a birthday present, no one else had remembered, maybe--
There was a wonderful moment where the hug was warm and hard, the whole world wrapped up blissful in Gumshoe's arms. He didn't even mind how stiff Mr. Edgeworth went. Mr. Edgeworth hated people touching him, or at least Gumshoe was pretty sure he did and there was nothing blissful about this, what was he doing--
He jerked away to arm's length. "Oh, geez, sorry, Mr. Edgeworth! I-I didn't--" He was gripping wide shoulders still and Mr. Edgeworth was so solid and real but Gumshoe yanked his hands off, stared wide-eyed at everything at once, he'd probably never see another paycheck again "I mean, it's-- I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean--"
The look stopped him -- Mr. Edgeworth's brows bent confused, something smile-like twitching on his mouth like a dying fish. Gumshoe tried to put his hands somewhere safe -- by his sides maybe, no, stuffed in the coat's pockets, what a mess he always made of things.
"Uhh, w-what I mean is thank you, sir. Much appreciated." The back of his neck itched.
Confusion faded from Mr. Edgeworth, back to his usual cool grace. He straightened -- not that he had ever slouched.
"I ... should have returned it sooner, if it means so much."
He turned away, gaze darting back up; a friendly little chill ran down Gumshoe's back at that look. And as Mr. Edgeworth left, he muttered, "Happy birthday, Detective."
Gumshoe tugged his lapels straight, watched Mr. Edgeworth's retreating back and grinned wide. It was a pretty good day, after all.
