Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all characters are copyright by CAPCOM; I'm just a fan imitating. The stories presented are influenced by the multiple games as well as the comic (Manga written by Kenji Kuroda).

Chapter 19

Of Ajax and Enchiladas

Phoenix stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

You should've just kept your mouth shut…

It wasn't really the glorious break one might have expected. If he was going to be bored, it was better to be bored at work. The doc had given him ten days of convalescent leave. Because apparently he was too much of a knuckle head to be allowed outside.

That was Thursday…. Today was Tuesday… Phoenix was already losing his mind.

Only five days to go….

He rolled over and pushed himself up. The urge had come upon him again—well, it's not like he had anything better to do. That and there was small risk of him getting caught. He paused by the bathroom sink to grab the footstool from the cabinet—he couldn't remember if it was his or Stan's. Maybe it belonged to the owner of the camp chair. But it had become a necessary addition to the task. He couldn't spend a lot of time on his knees.

He'd taken to just leaving the caddy over there since Sunday—because he knew he was just going to come back. Mom used to say this was something that brought good luck, and encouraged him once when he tried to explain the problem. Phoenix swallowed, at least no one had to know about this.

He grabbed the gloves out of the caddy and the Ajax powder—it was old school, but there was a lot more satisfaction with the powder—and sat on the footstool. He slid on the gloves and grabbed the toilet brush from it's holder beside the toilet and got down to business.

He'd found more constructive ways to deal with it in recent years, but he was under doc's orders not to run or work out. Biking was supposed to be okay, but after being scolded for not taking his recuperation seriously, Phoenix worried he'd be pressing his luck. So he took it out on the toilet.

He still hadn't heard from Miles, but he sent an e-mail letting him know that he was stuck at home for the next ten days—well five more… He'd run out of interesting TV by Friday afternoon, and despite all of his joking about it, the Xbox wasn't doing it for him either.

D'Andre left for somewhere in Georgia on Monday, so he didn't even have that distraction to pass the time.

You can't be by yourself…

Phoenix chuckled as he brought the brush around the underside of the lip around the toilet bowl—maybe D'Andre was right? He hadn't had it this bad since that hiccup in Texas—they were finally learning how to fly, which he'd been anticipating—but there were still hours of classroom study, mandatory group PT, not to mention all that crap with Dahlia and the NCIS investigation—so the stress had gotten to him.

Of course he wasn't injured back then, so he didn't have issues getting down on his hands and knees and taking this fixation to a whole new level—Q-tips in the grout between the tiles level. The Marine TI's at OCS used to use it as punishment—but he'd found it comforting, soothing. Cathartic even…

You don't have enough Q-Tips for that anyway…

He found himself back at his kitchen table about half an hour later scribbling calculations in a beat up old notebook he'd found after sorting through another box of things from storage. It was from flight school, so they'd been driving home calculations on force and velocity—the kinds of things a pilot had to just know—because there wouldn't be time to sit and ponder these things. Not when you had to make split-second decisions.

It all hovered in the forefront. What could he have done differently? How could things have gone so wrong? Everything about the mission had gone well—swimmingly even. And yet…

Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair. He really was terrible on his own.

The buzzer rang just then and he looked over at the call box, startled—did someone really just buzz me? He scrambled to his feet as soon as it went off again.

"Hi, I'm here, who is it?"

"Nick?"

"Yo," Phoenix grinned, okay, so yeah he was kind of desperate.

"It's Matt, can I come up?"

Phoenix hesitated, Matt Engarde? Really?

"Yeah um, sure," Phoenix pressed the door release and held it for a minute. Then he went and unlocked his door before returning to the calculations in his notebook. He flipped to a blank page and ran the equation with three different weights and went back over each one—checking his work and then comparing the results.

He looked up when Matt knocked on the door—he'd all but forgotten, "It's open!"

Matt let himself in and came around the door with his usual smirk. His hair was pulled down over his face and his heavy-lidded eyes gave the appearance of boredom or disdain. Phoenix stood up from the table and met him at the door.

"What's up, Matt?" He grinned, "How are you?"

Matt laughed and passed him a white grocery bag, "Celeste made you enchiladas… She was gonna stop by, but you know, I'm not that stupid…"

Phoenix took the bag, startled at Matt's hostile tone, but he smiled anyway, "Thanks you guys. That's very nice of you."

"Her enchiladas are the shit," Matt said, trying to play off his hostility. He glanced around the apartment with a sniff and then followed Phoenix into the kitchen where Phoenix pulled the small glass casserole dish out of the bag and set it on the table.

"How are you doing, Matt?" Phoenix glanced back at him, not sure what to make of the visit, "Do you want something to drink?"

"I'm good, dude," Matt stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans—he wore them tight, like a girl and his hands didn't really go into them all the way, "What do you have?"

"Um," Phoenix glanced around the kitchen and then opened the fridge, "I have Sunny-D, Milk and Beer… or I can get you a glass of water."

Matt chuckled at him, "I'll take a beer, if that's all right with you dad."

Phoenix rolled his eyes and handed him a canned beer—one of the ones D'Andre had left the other night.

"Fancy… Craft brew?"

Phoenix shrugged and got himself a glass of water and motioned toward the living room. Matt sat on the sofa studying the clutter Phoenix had left on the coffee table, the NATOPS manual, the photos, the Xbox controller, a scatter of junk mail and magazines.

Phoenix scratched his neck sheepishly and sat beside him on the sofa, "Sorry, I wasn't expecting any visitors…"

Matt shrugged off his concern and popped the beer can open and took a draught before setting it down and grabbing up the framed picture Phoenix still had on the floor propped against the coffee table, "What is this?"

"Oh that—I," Phoenix reached over and tried to grab it from him, but Matt dodged out of his way.

He felt guilty watching the expression on Matt's face grow serious as he studied the well-wishes and anecdotes scrawled on the parting gift. Apparently, Matt's squadron hadn't thought to do the same thing for him. Phoenix bit his lip and frowned.

"Is this from that last deployment? Dude, you left before I did!"

Phoenix shrugged abashedly and pulled the picture away from him and set it against the opposite wall so that the picture was hidden, "I don't know what to tell you…"

"How are you holding up? I didn't think you were that bad off and then Celeste said you've been SIQ or whatever…?"

Phoenix shrugged and eyed him sidelong and drank his water, "I'm good Matt."

Matt shook his head, "Aside from the enchiladas, I did want to check on you."

Phoenix nodded at him. They'd never been easy friends and he wasn't sure what this visit could entail, "I'm good, man."

Matt touched the beer can on the coffee table but didn't make a move to lift it, and he scrutinized the label with sudden interest, "It seems only right, Nick."

Phoenix frowned and finished his water, setting the empty glass on the coffee table too—he was still standing across from Matt.

"When I… After I…" Matt took a swig from the beer and set it back down, "You were the only one who came to visit me when I was in the brig."

Matt looked up at him from where he was sitting, his pale eyes were nearly translucent in the early afternoon light. Phoenix shrugged and shook his head.

"It's nothing, Matt… It sucks being alone…"

Matt gave a snort of laughter, "Yeah… Yeah it does, Nick."

Phoenix stuck his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and looked down at him from where he stood. He didn't know what to say.

"Thanks for coming by, Matt."

Matt shrugged and polished off his beer, "I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

He stood and put a hand on Phoenix's shoulder staring at him from under his droopy eyelids and smiling slightly. Phoenix's frown deepened.

"That you're not alone," Matt said and he smiled, "I'll see ya around Nick."

"Hey thanks, Matt," Phoenix walked him toward the door, "Tell Celeste to stop cooking for me… It's only a few days…"

Matt laughed as he stepped out of the apartment, "Fucking Phoenix Wright."

"Bye Matt," Phoenix waited until he was most of the way to the elevator before closing the door. He went back to the table and frowned at the notebook, rolling the confused thoughts in his head. Matt's visit was not just unexpected, but awkward.

But it had been pleasant. Maybe Matt was finally having a change of heart?

Still, it was very nice of him to swing by. He seemed grateful about Phoenix visiting him in the brig—although Phoenix barely remembered it, since it was overshadowed by the trauma of getting patted down by Senior Chief Badd.

He wasn't sure how long he wasted time exploring the physics of the accident but he looked up when the phone rang to see the sun was golden in the window. He slammed the notebook shut and grabbed the casserole and stuck it in the fridge on his way to find his phone.

"Hello?"

"Nick, I'm sorry I haven't called," Miles sounded a little harried on the phone, but his voice was clear and unmarred by the dithering static he'd grown accustomed to.

"No, it's okay Miles," Phoenix smiled, relieved, "So you're in Pearl?"

"Yeah—em, I got here a few hours ago, but I was confused about the time difference, plus there's been a lot of moving parts, and I got pretty busy with—"

"Miles, it's okay. I'm glad you called, and I'm glad you made it ashore safely."

"Nick, I catapulted off the ship in the COD…"

"How was that?"

"You do that every time you fly?"

Phoenix laughed, "Yeah, that's the easy part, Miles. The fun part is trying to land your plane on a tiny moving target bobbing around on the water… But, look, now you can say you've done it."

"A distinction I'm sure I'll embrace forever… So long as I never have to do it again…"

Phoenix chuckled uneasily—I would kill to do it again…

"Nick what is this about convalescent leave? Did you hurt yourself again?"

"No," Phoenix frowned and rubbed at his spikes, "Doc is being cautious… That's all."

"What did you do Phoenix?"

Phoenix chuckled nervously, "Miles, why do you think I—"

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Phoenix was surprised by his own defensiveness, "I have some degeneration in my discs or something—it's progressing faster than they'd expected… something like that. I'm supposed to see the orthopedist in a couple weeks and they're expecting at least one more surgery. I guess he felt I needed to take a break."

Miles was quiet on his end for several dragging moments, "I hope you're taking care of yourself."

"I'm great Miles," Phoenix smiled, "Living the dream."

Miles chuckled, "Okay, Nick. So I think you're ahead now, by a few hours…"

Phoenix glanced at his watch, "It's almost eight pm here."

"Okay, six hours," Miles continued, "Is it all right if I call a little later in the evenings?"

"Sure," Phoenix said, "I won't be back to work until Monday."

"Good," Miles replied, "The trial starts on Monday."

"Okay," Phoenix stared at the floor in the darkening apartment, Miles would probably be very busy once it started, "I'll be here. I hope everything goes well."

"Me too," he couldn't tell if Miles was trying to make a joke of it or not, but he chuckled and frowned—he seemed nervous if anything. Court didn't usually seem to faze him.

"You got this, Miles," Phoenix said, "Don't be nervous."

Miles laughed on the phone, "I'm not nervous. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Take care of yourself."

"I will, you too," Phoenix replied.

"I love you."

"I love you more," Phoenix smiled as they said their goodbyes.

He had coffee with his enchiladas for breakfast and managed to make it past noon without scrubbing the toilet. But as he found himself sitting there with those bright yellow gloves and the toilet brush whose scrubber was slightly deformed from all of the abuse, he knew he had to get out of there. He needed the sunshine and the ocean.

He took his bike out after lunch and followed Dam Neck road out to the little base. It was quiet on Dam Neck, but there was a beach he could ride along on pavement so as not to exacerbate the injury to his back.

The sun was setting by the time he got back to the apartment, and he had showered and was in the process of trying to coral a four decker sandwich of his own design when the phone rang.

"Miles, how are you?"

"You sound cheerful," Miles replied and it made Phoenix frown to note that Miles on the other hand didn't sound quite so cheerful. He paused to suck a bit of mustard off his thumb and then grimaced at the taste.

"What's wrong Miles?"

"Nothing's wrong," Miles said, "Just had a long day."

"I'm sorry," Phoenix almost dropped the phone trying to stop the sandwich from toppling over, "Whoops…"

"What are you doing?" Miles laughed as Phoenix tried to cradle the phone between his head and his shoulder.

"Nothing," he said trying to restock and reform the culinary disaster on his chopping board, "What did you get up to today?"

"Not a whole lot," Miles made an exasperated noise, "NCIS still hasn't arrived so there's a lot of rushing around and twiddling our thumbs, and a whole lot of time being wasted that we don't really have. It all gets very frustrating."

"I'm sorry," Phoenix said and rinsed his hands so he could get a better angle on the phone, "I take it you don't have time to go surfing, either."

Miles laughed again, it made him smile, "You're ridiculous…"

"So I was going to ask, did you get lei'd when you landed?"

"What?"

"You know with the flowers—like they do in the movies?"

"No," Miles laughed again, "We landed on the base. They're not very keen on flowers in the Navy—correct me if I'm wrong."

"They gave my mom flowers when she came out to wing me," Phoenix quipped as he eyed the reluctant sandwich, "Lilies and tulips, I think."

"Tulips, huh?"

"I don't know anything about flowers Miles," Phoenix shook his head, "But mom had a blast."

"She would," Miles said.

"You know she loves fighter pilots—even though I'm pretty sure I'm the first one she's ever met in real life."

"Pilots are overrated," Miles teased.

Phoenix nodded, "yeah…"

He gave up on the sandwich and opted for a knife and fork, sliding the whole mess of sandwich ingredients onto a plate, and then sat at the table.

"Lawyers on the other hand… So what are you missing? You seem anxious about something."

"Oh nothing," Miles droned, "Just the most critical evidence I need for the trial."

"Yeah, what do you need evidence for, Miles?"

"I know, but it's really cool to stand in a courtroom and describe 'exhibit A' and whatnot. It's part of the spectacle."

"I wish I could watch," Phoenix said and tucked into the 'sandwich'.

"I'll ask one of these guys to record it and put it up on YouTube," Miles sniggered into the phone.

"Really?" Phoenix swallowed a mouthful of 'sandwich', "You'd do that for me, Miles?"

"Never in a million years," Miles laughed, "I miss you. You'd like it here."

"Hawaii?" Phoenix paused to wolf down more sandwich.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to eat dinner."

"It's late there, isn't it?"

"Well I got in late," Phoenix said.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting."

"Yeah."

"What if you came out here?" Miles asked and Phoenix almost choked.

"To-to Hawaii?"

"Yeah, you could take leave and fly out here—there's bound to be something coming from Norfolk to Hawaii…"

"Not directly, but…"

"Or I'll send you a ticket," Miles added hopefully.

"I can get a plane ticket," Phoenix said almost defensively, "I mean, I have to think about it and let the division and XO know… But it'll probably make doc happy."

"Thanksgiving," Miles said, "No one can complain if you want to take leave for Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, we're training… so there's no classes that week," Phoenix grinned, "Yeah, okay then. I'll put in for it and let you know."

"The island is called Oahu, the biggest city would be Honolulu…"

"Yeah Miles, it's the island where Pearl Harbor is…"

"Oh okay, well let me know if you need any help setting it up," Miles said, "it'll be great."

"Okay… awesome," Phoenix grinned, "Does this mean I'll get laid?"

Miles hesitated, "You mean with the flowers or whatever?"

A/N: Oh Phoenix...

A little bit of fluff for you *grin*