Prompt: Mia has a crush on her employee/protégé Phoenix and doesn't really know how to go about dealing with it, especially since he doesn't return her feelings.

It wasn't so much surprising as it was offensive, the first time.

Phoenix Wright had only been training under her for a few weeks at that point, and while he'd abandoned his awful sweater and made it a point to listen attentively to everything she said, Mia still found him somewhat annoying on the whole. He just seemed so naive, so terribly childish. There were hints of something more to come, of course: though misguided, the loyalty and even courage he'd displayed on the witness stand had been remarkable. He'd swallowed his pride enough to come ask to learn from her, had enough guts to clearly recognize that he was lacking. His eyes had burned with determination as he bowed before her and begged for her to guide him.

So - no, he wasn't terrible. He wasn't a bad person, and he was clearly trying his best, but his obliviousness and naivete were so complete, it felt oddly foreign to Mia. She'd always been pushed to be her best, had been forced through intense spiritual training since her mother left, and worked harder still to achieve her own goals. It wasn't just that she didn't have a lot of time for idle fun, so much as she didn't know how to enjoy it when she did. Lana had helped with that, and Diego too, but they were on the whole mature and self-possessed individuals. Lana had a little sister she'd helped raise, just like Mia, so she understood how that weighed on a person. Diego acted careless and flippant but under that facade he'd always worked harder than anyone else at Grossberg's firm, and his life was almost fully centered around his job in a manner very familiar to Mia.

Phoenix wasn't like them. He was a hard worker, that much soon became clear. And he clearly felt things deeply; he was anything but casual about people. Mia had seen him baring his heart to Dahlia, couldn't help but notice the way he never said her name and tried his hardest not to reference how they'd first met. It had been a few months since the trial, so maybe the wound was just fresh, but Mia couldn't help the impression she had that he'd hold onto this loss for much, much longer. Still…

She couldn't explain it, really. For all that he was closer to her age, Mia had always seen him as more aligned with Maya in maturity. He just didn't process as an adult in the same way as other people. He'd await her judgement on his practice test with such wide eager eyes, he'd moan and groan about still more studying, he'd flop down on the floor to watch cartoons during breaks. She'd heard him on the phone with some friend of his, and it was a whole lot of pop culture references and laughter and complaining. When he'd finished the call by agreeing to meet his friend for a beer later, she'd had to fight off an initial impulse to scold him for underage drinking.

And then he asked her if she would look at something for him.

After Mia agreed, Phoenix went into the bathroom and stayed there for a long time. He'd been lugging a garment bag around when he arrived this afternoon, so it wasn't like what he was doing was such a mystery. She idly tidied up the room as she waited him out.

"Okay," she heard him say through the door. "Okay, you did well, it looks good, it looks professional. She's gonna agree."

Mia bit back a fond smile, sitting on the corner of her desk and crossing her arms over her chest. Moments later, her protege emerged from the bathroom, blushing awkwardly.

"Um, so what do you think?" he asked, holding his arms out to show off his simple blue suit. "I got it at a thrift store but it's in pretty good shape I think! And I was thinking, every lawyer needs a good suit, so…"

Mia stood up slowly.

"I - I really like blue," he babbled nervously as she approached, "and this one didn't seem too flashy, compared to the other options. I thought I could put my badge right here on my lapel, once I get it, l-like you do…"

She stopped right in front of him, and reached out. Tugged his tie a little tighter, and smoothed down the cuff of his white shirt. When she slid her hands to his chest to brush off a bit of lint he'd missed, she could feel how solid his muscles were behind the fabric. She had to look up to meet his eyes; he was just a couple inches taller than she was.

She could feel him holding his breath.

"It looks good, Phoenix," Mia said, stepping back. "Very professional."

The grin that broke over his face couldn't be described as any less than beaming. His cheeks were a little red but other than that he didn't seem to have any reaction to her inappropriate touching. He didn't seem to have noticed at all, actually, entirely too busy hooking his thumbs into his pockets and trying out some kind of dignified pose he explained he'd been thinking about.

It didn't look dignified, it looked ridiculous, he was acting like a child dressing up in his dad's clothes, except Mia found herself thinking it was cute. Except when he wasn't acting weird about it the suit emphasized his broad shoulders and the contrast between his blue and brown eye, and cute was not the word she found herself thinking. She didn't have any difficulty picturing this person drinking a beer after work.

Good, she told herself. It's - good, people won't underestimate him so badly in court.

She didn't verbalize anything more, not even to herself. If she had, it would have been only to dismiss the very idea, to wave it off as the shock of seeing him looking professional for the first time and having no greater meaning.

-xxx-

But it happened again.

Not the suit, not for a long time. He didn't wear it again until his bar exams, claiming, when he told her his plan the week before the test, that it was important to be in the right mindset. Mia wanted to point out how little a superstitious attitude like that would help compared to actual studying, and also that the time he'd spent ironing it could have been better used reviewing - so she did. And of course he tried to laugh her comments off, literally: he put a hand behind his head and pasted on this awkward grin, letting loose one of the fakest laughs she'd heard in a while.

"Oh, no, I used that time to study too!" he claimed. "I feel totally prepared!"

Mia leaned in close. Stared directly into his eyes.

"That's so great, Phoenix," she smiled, stepping back a little and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm really proud you're taking this so seriously."

"Hahahaha!" he laughed woodenly, clear panic in his eyes and sweat beading on his temple, and she had to turn around so he wouldn't see her biting her lip to hold back the giggles.

He called her later that night, confessing that he'd spent the afternoon buying a pair of lucky gavel underpants instead of reviewing, and could she please help him and also never mention this again. Mia agreed to both as calmly as possible, then promptly collapsed into laughter as soon as she hung up the call. She cackled into her pillow for at least five minutes… and then simply lay there smiling softly, her heart warm and awfully full.

-That was months down the line, though. By that point, Mia already knew what she was feeling; wasn't so much struggling to come to terms with feeling it as with what to do about it. Before then, there were so many other little moments, what felt eventually like a constant barrage of Phoenix being cute or attractive or funny or thoughtful, to the point that she genuinely wondered if she was losing it. She shouldn't have even been noticing all of this, let alone attracted to it.

Phoenix couldn't make coffee to save his life, but Mia really genuinely believed that having someone else to make your coffee was one of the main reasons to even bother hiring anyone. So she spent an hour or two teaching him how to use her old machine - at first just to make a decent cup at all, but then it turned out that he did like coffee, he just was perfectly willing to imbibe anything at all that had caffeine without distinguishing quality from trash. Mia tried very hard not to think about Diego while trying to beat some level of taste into her protege's head, but of course it was hard. She wasn't anywhere near his level, but she had learned a few things from him regardless. It wasn't a big deal (really, really it wasn't, she hadn't even been to see him in two months, she'd accepted and internalized that he wasn't going to wake up, he was as good as dead and she'd already let him go) but Phoenix must have noticed her tensing up when he just couldn't seem to grasp the importance of using a good creamer, like he genuinely couldn't taste any difference at all - and he just went completely quiet. He shut up entirely, watched her with a laser gaze, copied her movements exactly, just nodded along and did as she said and finally drank the coffee they had made. It was one of Diego's recipes, she couldn't remember which number, she really didn't want to remember, and it should feel wrong to share this with someone who'd so stubbornly loved the woman that killed him - but Phoenix hummed softly into his cup and smiled. He saw something was wrong, it was so obvious he saw, but he didn't say anything at all, just accepted what she gave him.

He wore almost exclusively exercise gear, ratty old sweaters, and scarves and beanies when it got too cold out. He didn't seem to actually own a single proper coat. She nearly swallowed her tongue the first time he took the sweater off to reveal a t-shirt underneath. It wasn't even that it was tight on him, just that when he moved she could see his arms and they were… they were good arms.

His eyes lit up so bright whenever she complimented him.

His laugh was loud and open and infectious. But, maybe even better, he had a habit of mumbling sarcastic responses under his breath. The first time he'd done it in front of a client she'd elbowed him so hard in the gut he started choking; the first time he'd done it to her she'd sent him off to clean the toilet then covered her mouth with her hands so he wouldn't hear her snorting.

"I'm sorry," he said, so many times, "I gotta go rescue my friend." He always sounded completely exasperated on the phone, but every single time he packed up what he was doing and headed out to help this guy without hesitation. She couldn't help thinking, if his friend had gotten a promotion and then suddenly grown distant and stopped responding to calls and texts and didn't show up when his boyfriend was poisoned, Phoenix wouldn't have let it go. He wouldn't have let her say she was busy every time, would have acted on his suspicion that she was behaving oddly, wouldn't have let his grief for someone else interfere with maintaining that friendship. Maybe she was wrong, and he wouldn't have acted differently. Maybe Lana really had been busy, really still thought of her as a friend even after all this time, hadn't dropped her as someone unpolitic to associate with. Mia knew she was projecting, knew it was stupid. She still let him leave early every time.

The one and only time they played cards, during a long wait for a client delayed by a broken-down train, he'd utterly demolished her. Granted, Mia was no great poker player, but she wasn't a complete beginner either. Phoenix lost precisely twice, the first two hands, and then proceeded to just - keep - winning. When she asked him how the hell he was so good at bluffing about this, he just smirked.

(She thought about that smirk for hours afterward.)

Sometimes he showed up with donuts.

He watered Charley with care and never mocked her for naming a plant. She'd even caught him talking to it a few times.

He blushed whenever she complimented him for any reason; on the other hand he'd often blurt out embarrassingly sincere praise for her skill or intelligence without any apparent shame.

He rode his bike to work every day and stayed for hours even on top of his schoolwork. He liked blue best, but pink was a close second. Other than their first meeting, he'd never once been sick and ate even days-old sushi without fear or repercussions. He always seemed to notice when she was having a bad day, and would do stupid stuff to try and cheer her up: dumb puns, cleaning the bathroom without prompting, offering her an old candy he'd found in the bottom of his bag, asking about the posters on the wall, telling stories about scrapes he and Larry'd gotten into. One time, she'd been thinking some very heavy thoughts about her mother and Phoenix had broken the silence to ask if she thought he should get a tattoo.

He smiled every new time he saw her, no matter how long it had or hadn't been.

By the time he told her about wearing his suit for the bar exam, Mia was long gone.

-xxx-

But she was his boss. It wouldn't be right, or appropriate, and she really didn't think he saw her that way. He always called her 'Chief', he never seemed to notice when she touched his arm or shoulder or leaned in next to him to point something out in a book. Not that she did that often, not that she called him by his first name either. He was her employee, he was younger, he trusted her completely - there were so many ways trying something could go wrong even if she didn't mean to pressure him. And besides, he might have a girlfriend already - it had been a while since Dahlia.

He didn't.

She learned that after he finished his first case as lead defense. After finally meeting the friend that had caused Phoenix so much grief, Mia had to admit she was impressed. Larry had exceeded even her own impression, formed over the course of so many overheard halves of phone conversations. Still, Phoenix had done well, so she'd taken him out for a drink afterwards. She shouldn't have, she'd known that even as she made the offer - but if Larry came along too, if she stayed for just one drink and then left them alone, it wasn't really that bad, right? Grossberg had bought her a bottle of wine once. Sure, he didn't drink it with her, but - he hadn't been a very good boss, on the whole.

So they all went out, and Mia ordered a round of drinks. Larry got a beer but Phoenix asked for a glass of wine, which was unexpected. When it arrived he admitted he'd just wanted to try what she was drinking since she probably had good taste, and Mia didn't tell him he could have tried a sip of her glass. She just raised a toast, "to your good work," and then tried to stay quiet.

One drink and then I'll leave, she thought.

Larry was in fine form. He alternated between hanging out with them and going up to various women and trying to hit on them. Every time he got rejected he'd come back and cry onto the table for a little while, as Phoenix patted him on the back and made sarcastic comments that seemed to fly right over his head. Mia started to get an idea why he thought he'd get away with all his muttered asides, if this was the usual reception.

"Wow, he's really broken up over Cindy," Phoenix said, about the fourth time Larry had left to try his luck. It was immediately apparent to Mia that the woman he was heading towards was on a date with the woman next to her, so she expected him back at the table shortly.

"Is that so?" she asked, tipping her head in his direction pointedly.

"Yeah," Phoenix laughed, swishing his glass a little before tipping his head back for a long swallow. His Adam's apple bobbed; he licked at his wine-stained lips afterwards. "Believe it or not, he's not actually too bad at picking up girls. It's just keeping a relationship going that he sucks at. If he's striking out this much… I don't think he's really even trying."

"I suppose it did sound pretty serious between them," Mia acknowledged. Across the room, the women were exchanging amused glances over Larry's shoulder. One of them touched his arm and said something; a moment later he set out towards the bar and they laughed behind his back, exchanging a kiss. Looked like they were getting some free drinks before they enlightened him.

"Yeah," Phoenix said. There was a tension in his voice that drew her attention back to him. For a moment it looked like he was going to say more, but then he just repeated, "...yeah. Must've been rough."

Mia watched him for a moment. It was a bad idea.

She shouldn't.

"Wright," she said, before she could stop herself. "How - how are you?"

"I'm fine," he said right away, almost before she finished. "I'm doing good, really."

"I know I was kind of harsh, back then," she said, "but -"

"It's really fine," he insisted, and Mia'd been expecting them, but the Psyche-Locks that appeared in front of him still made her breathe in sharply. He smiled at her, his hand tight around the stem of his wineglass. "I just need a little more time before I get back out there, but I'm over it, honestly."

If he were a client, she could push this. If he were just her friend, maybe she'd push this.

"That's good," Mia said instead. "I'm glad."

She finished off the last of her wine, very conscious of Phoenix staring intently at her, hoping he couldn't see her hand trembling. Larry was approaching again, weeping openly, and she stood up to go.

"I'll get you another round first, but I can't stay," she said with a smile. "Beers?"

"Um, the wine is actually really good," Phoenix said. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Chief."

Mia felt a powerful urge to brush the hair back from his face. To kiss his cheek, just once.

"You got it," she said, ordered their drinks, and left.

-xxx-

So it was stupid. Phoenix wasn't over his murderous ex, which made sense for someone so sensitive. Even if he had been, it didn't mean he'd suddenly start noticing her; even if he had, it wouldn't make pursuing him ethically sound. He was good-looking, good-hearted, honest, smart, loyal, but he was still off-limits. He was still naive, still foolish. They got along well but that didn't mean he deserved to be dragged into her own complicated situation. She'd never even told him much about Maya, even though she knew they'd get on like a house on fire. Maya was too obviously a Fey, too clearly from Kurain, and even if Phoenix had no idea what that meant now, once they met she'd have to explain it. She'd altered her will to leave the firm to him if she died; but she'd never told him about Redd White, never once mentioned her mother, never even referenced Diego.

Mia couldn't start a relationship on such false pretenses. Her life wasn't nearly as together as Phoenix thought it was, and that was fine as long as she was just his mentor. He could put her on a pedestal, could seek her advice on everything, as long as she wasn't dating him. And it wasn't that she minded. She liked not having to think about that kind of stuff with him. She liked how he made her laugh, how he took her mind off her quest for justice and made her want to just live in the moment, even liked how obviously he looked up to her. She wanted to let him take his time getting over Dahlia and building his confidence as a lawyer. If she tried anything now, she couldn't keep this status quo. It wouldn't be fair, to treat a boyfriend as a lesser partner like that.

And all that assumed he'd even like her back. He might not. There were a lot of reasons he might continue not to see her in a romantic lens even long after he'd forgotten about his first love, and Mia knew that. She knew it wasn't just him not being ready, even now; he didn't seem to be attracted to her at all. Sometimes he'd blush a little when she embarrassed him, but he never looked at her inappropriately, never made any implication, never crossed the line from banter to flirting. Maybe that would change eventually, but it just as easily might never.

She knew that.

Still. Still, when she finally began to close the noose around Redd she couldn't help thinking, maybe. It had only been a month since his first trial, Phoenix was nowhere close to becoming an equal partner in the firm. But she could let him meet Maya. She could tell him a little bit more. She didn't want him to help with White, didn't need his help but especially didn't want him to have to see that part of her. But, once it was done, maybe she could start showing him a little more.

Try a little harder to become his friend, not just his boss.

Nothing more than that. She wanted it, but she didn't need it. It was enough to think of him, to smile at the thought. It was enough to want the best for him, to help him achieve it. It would be enough if she were someone whose call he'd always answer. If she could be there for him, the way he unwittingly was for her.

Maybe, if he changed his mind years down the line, when he'd caught up to her and they stood on more even ground, she'd still feel the same. Maybe she wouldn't, maybe she'd get over him and not even understand how she could ever have fallen so hard for such a ridiculous person. (It didn't seem likely anymore, but it would be so much easier.)

"Why don't we get dinner together sometime?" she asked him; tried not to look for any special reaction to the words. There wouldn't be one.

"That sounds great," Phoenix said casually. "Do you wanna go for burgers tonight or something?"

"I'm actually pretty busy working on a case. Maybe next week's better."

"Sure thing, Chief!" He gave her a dinky little salute, then went back to his filing.

Mia smiled to herself. It was stupid, to be hurt by something like that when she knew better. Even stupider to be charmed by it, but here she was. On the whole, she was far happier than hurt. She liked liking Phoenix. It wasn't smart but even without any hint of reciprocation, it made her feel happier.

This was good enough… and she had time, after all, to hope for more.

I seem to recall something about them having plans to have burgers together which were never realized, but couldn't remember any details. And the timeline for Lana's withdrawal may be a little off; I think they happen roughly the same time but it might've been a few months later, not sure.

Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this. I love Mia and Phoenix's relationship whether platonic or otherwise.