When Edgeworth arrived back at his own apartment, he wanted nothing more than to just crawl in bed and fall asleep right then. It wasn't even too late; he just felt like he had a long day. Edgeworth thought he would help himself to dinner, get ready for bed, and then simply go to bed. Usually, he liked to read a bit before bed, especially if he had a trial that day. He liked to read the court transcript and see where he could approve upon.
As he made dinner for himself, Edgeworth's thoughts were full of Wright. For once, they weren't the usual, shameful thoughts he would so often have, but they were about Wright's career choice. He wished he had asked Wright more about why he became a defense attorney or pressed him further on whether or not he would defend a guilty client. Although, he supposed he should give Wright a chance to at least sleep on the issue before berating him about it.
Three days in a row it would be now, seeing Wright. The two had never seen each other so much outside of the courtroom. Despite that, after Edgeworth and Wright had met again, Edgeworth felt like his life could be divided into two parts: times he was with Wright and times he wasn't. He would count down the days, hours, and minutes before he could see Wright again. It felt obsessive...and dirty, but he couldn't help it. Those hours in court with him were the most invigorating hours of his life, no matter how disinteresting the case sometimes was.
Edgeworth felt a sense of guilty pleasure at the idea of the case they were currently working on taking a while. He knew they wouldn't be able to get the retrial immediately, but Edgeworth hoped he and Wright would have to spend a lot of time together to work on the case. Wright perhaps was hoping that they would be able to deal with the case swiftly and get a quick and easy not guilty verdict.
It was lonely eating dinner, usually. Edgeworth would sit at his long dining room table, alone, and quietly eat his dinner. Sometimes he would read while he ate, look over a case, but usually, he simply ate his dinner with only his thoughts to occupy himself with.
He thought back to the dinners he would have with his father when he got home from work. His father wouldn't allow Edgeworth to do anything at the dinner table, despite his constant begging to be able to read or do his schoolwork as he ate. Looking back, Edgeworth was glad his father had that hard rule—after all, it was the only hard rule his father had had for him—because it allowed him and his father endless conversations over dinner. Conversations that would continue as they both cleaned the table up, his father had coffee and he had dessert. Sometimes Edgeworth wouldn't stop rambling until his father had walked him to his bedroom and put him to bed.
Edgeworth recalled a conversation he and his father once had, the memory washing over him suddenly.
"How was your first trial, Miles?" his father had asked. "Did you get that boy a not guilty verdict?"
"Of course I did."
His father's face bloomed with a smile and Edgeworth remembered recognizing it as one full of pride.
"Good job," his father said. "I wish somehow I could've been there."
"Me too. The boy's name was Phoenix and I told him I wanted to be a defense attorney, like you."
"I know, son."
Edgeworth's father had always given him his full attention when the two spoke. He maintained eye-contact as long as Edgeworth was looking up at him.
"Why don't you tell me more about it," his father offered. "Why did you say to make everyone see your point of view?"
"Well..." Edgeworth remembered being embarrassed, for some reason. He thought his father would judge him the same as he would an actual defense attorney. "I just said that they didn't have any evidence to prove that Phoenix stole the lunch money."
"No evidence means what, Miles?"
"No evidence isn't evidence," dispensed Edgeworth. "Just because it seems like a person could've done it, if there's no evidence, you can't prove it."
Again, his father's face bloomed.
"That's right!" His father reached out and put an affectionate on Edgeworth's leg. "Did you find out who did steal your money?"
"No, I didn't," said Edgeworth sullenly, sinking in his seat. "Sorry. She said she would give me the money herself..."
"And what did you say to that?" Edgeworth's father had asked, leaning close to him.
"I told her 'no, thank you'," replied Edgeworth. "Was that right?"
His father had nodded at that. Edgeworth had been raised to not take money from someone that he didn't need.
Edgeworth smiled to himself as he recalled the conversation. His father was nothing but supportive and proud, it made Edgeworth wonder what he could do to disappoint his father.
Being a prosecutor, Edgeworth concluded sullenly.
Edgeworth rose to his feet and moved back to the kitchen. He quietly cleaned his plate and utensils and put everything away.
Thinking about his father bough confusing emotions. He would smile at the memory, but would inwardly feel sadness, disappointment, and guilt. Sometimes, Edgeworth would feel a little embarrassed at his younger self for only now realizing a lot of the things his father had asked him, he already knew the answer to. Or, even with the class trial. It wasn't so much of a trial as it was all the children in the class cornering Wright into confessing. But still, his father had asked how the trial went and what the verdict was as if Edgeworth had just finished law school and started his career.
Once Edgeworth was showered and in his pajamas, he was finally ready for bed, ready to conclude the day. But, when he got in bed, all he could was stare up at the ceiling while thinking of Wright.
What was Wright thinking about right now...?
He was probably asleep, and if he wasn't, he was thinking about his case. If he was awake and somehow thinking of Edgeworth, it would only be his words he was thinking of. He wouldn't be thinking of him the same way Edgeworth thought of Wright. Surely not.
Edgeworth thought of what Wright's ex-girlfriend might be like. He wondered what she looked like or what she talked like. He couldn't help but wonder what type of girl Wright liked. Clearly, the two had never talked about anything like that. The two hadn't talked about much of anything, Edgeworth realized suddenly. He hoped that that would change. Although, Edgeworth was perfectly content to not hear Wright talk about women.
Before he could drift off, Edgeworth heard his phone vibrate on his nightstand. He groaned and turned to grab it without looking at the caller ID.
"Edgeworth speaking."
"I thought you'd be asleep."
Edgeworth instantly sat up.
"Wright..."
"Were you asleep?" Wright asked. "Sorry if I woke you up."
"No, I was already up working on something," he lied. He would never want Wright to feel like a bother. "What do you need?"
"I'm just...thinking of what you said." Wright chuckled softly, "I've been staring into my cup of coffee wishing it would give me answers."
It was difficult not to imagine himself in Wright's bed. He wished he was there instead of his own lonely bed. Ignoring Wright's...weird joke (at least Edgeworth hoped that's what it was), Edgeworth asked:
"What have you been thinking? Would you defend someone who is guilty?"
"I think I would. They still deserve someone on their side," said Wright. "Because no one is there for them. That's probably even more true than for someone who's innocent."
There was a small pause. Edgeworth swallowed thickly, suddenly very thirsty.
"You're there for them."
"Yeah," said Wright. Edgeworth could hear a smile in his voice and a warmth pooled in his belly. "And you're there for me."
Edgeworth moved the phone away from his face, letting out a small sigh. He leaned back on his pillows. Wright could be so dense, saying something like that. He could be such a simpleton. Of course, Wright hadn't known the tightness in Edgeworth's chest he had caused (and was always causing), so he probably thought of his nice words as a simple exchange.
He brought his phone back to his face. There was a response he wanted to give but it wouldn't come out, so he changed the tune. "Well, Wright, it sounds like you've come to a conclusion, so can I ask why you're calling me?"
"I've been restless...thinking of you..."
Edgeworth sucked in a breath.
"You get me so—" Wright cut himself off with a laugh. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding."
Edgeworth let out the breath he was holding in. Wright's jokes could start to get on his nerves; probably because they were either true or part of some twisted fantasy he conjured up. "Wright, why are you calling me?"
"Well, as you said, I have to come to a conclusion, but there's something that's making me doubt my position."
"And that is...?"
"What you said...that you wouldn't defend a criminal because you'd regret it," said Wright. "Why is that?"
Edgeworth swung his legs over and sat at the edge of his bed. He put his head down, giving himself a few moments to think about his answer. He wanted to explain himself to Wright without making Wright feel as though his own feelings or thoughts were wrong. At the same, he wanted to open and honestly explain himself and his position to Wright so that he could decide for himself what was the right thing for him to do.
Even if Edgeworth didn't always agree with Wright, necessarily—or at least he would never want to be the one defending a criminal, even if he was their last option—he still admired Wright. He had always been so enamored by Wright's naivety, even if Edgeworth believed it could be considered a flaw sometimes.
"I know you became a defense attorney to give aid to those with no one else on their side...even if you were only thinking of innocent people originally," started Edgeworth. "But that's not why I wanted to become one when I was younger."
"So," urged Wright. "What was the reason?"
"Well, you know, my father was."
"That's all?"
"Yes," Edgeworth said quietly. "If he had been a prosecutor, I would have probably wanted to be one too when I was younger."
"So again, why don't you switch? Why would you regret defending a criminal?"
Edgeworth paused. "...Can I be honest with you?"
"I'd like you to be."
"I don't have the passion for it," admitted Edgeworth. "Defense isn't my passion."
"Prosecution is?"
"I...I'm..."
Edgeworth trailed off awkwardly. He wasn't sure, so he stayed quiet for a few beats.
"You said in the bar that you think you'll never reach your potential as a prosector," Wright said. "Do you think you'd reach it as a defense attorney?"
"No," Edgeworth answered instantly. "I don't."
"Edgeworth, you have such a...natural talent for law. I think you have a passion for...finding the truth?" Wright had said it like a question like he wasn't sure. "After the Von Karma trial, it seems as though you're constantly seeking the truth. A prosecutor does that and serves justice while doing so...would you say you have a passion for justice?"
"I suppose I would be able to find the truth if I was a defense attorney and only defended the innocent, but then again I wouldn't be doing the job to its fullest...why are we talking about me here?" Edgeworth asked. "I thought we were talking about you."
Wright laughed, "Yeah, Wright. I was just...curious is all."
'Mmm. I was able to alleviate your doubts though, I hope?"
"I think so," said Wright, then again, "I think so...thanks."
"You're welcome." Edgeworth glanced at the clock at his bedside. "Now get some rest, so you can talk to Matthews and not be sleep-deprived. I'll get the transcript and we can meet for lunch, as we said before, okay?"
"Okay. Good-night, Edgeworth."
"Good-night."
Edgeworth moved his phone to hang up but then brought it right back to his face.
"Wright?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm..." Edgeworth felt his voice falter embarrassingly. His response from before came to the tip of his tongue. "I'll always be there for you."
"I—Oh...well, me too," said Wright. "But you knew that already, I hope."
Edgeworth closed his eyes. "I do."
The two exchanged another set of good-nights and Edgeworth placed his phone on the nightstand. He sat still for a few moments after that, trying to get his heart to stop beating so quickly. Why had he said that? That was so stupid and embarrassing and—
Edgeworth shook his head and laid down. He had already said it. There was no taking it back. Plus, it wasn't as if he had said "I'm so in love with you!" and most likely Wright hadn't taken what he said as a confession of love. He has simply told Wright that he would always be there for him. The two were friends, technically...and Wright had said it back. Kinda.
Wright had shown multiple times that he was there for Edgeworth. Not only with the Von Karma case, but so, so many times when the two were younger. Had Edgeworth ever done the same? Stuck his neck out for Wright?
He supposed during the Steel Samurai case, he had done that. Wright had just missed a contradiction and a pretty large one at that, and Edgeworth had called it out. It wasn't as if he threw the case or anything like that, it was difficult not to call out someone so smug when they slipped up. It was also hard to look the guilty party in the face and help them by turning a blind eye to their lies, especially while Wright was on the opposite side of the courtroom.
But hadn't he done that before? Turned a blind eye to justice, even while Wright was in the courtroom? Even while Wright was the defendant and he knew for a fact Wright was innocent?
Things were different then, though. It was easier to ignore his feelings for Wright then and he constantly had Von Karma in his ear, never mind his own pride in the way.
That's why he had told Wright he never wanted to see his face again after the Steel Samurai case. It was too hard not only to ignore any doubts or uncertainty about his choice to be a prosecutor, but it was also becoming too hard to ignore his feelings for Wright. He couldn't stand seeing Wright and not being able to have him, or even tell him his feelings.
But still, after that, Wright had come to his defense. He hadn't groused or complained, but instead, he stuck by Edgeworth's side even when he tried to push Wright away.
After a little more time of lying awake and thinking of Wright, Edgeworth felt himself fall asleep finally. His dreams were taunted by his past actions, as they usually were. It was only when he rose in the morning that he realized the night before was the first time in a while that he didn't have nightmares.
The last time he slept peacefully, undisrupted and undisturbed, was after the final verdict in the DL-6 incident.
Edgeworth pulled himself out of bed, grabbed the paper, and made himself some tea. He sat quietly by the large window in his living room to read the newspaper as he sipped on his tea.
He had to think of an excuse for getting the transcript for Matthews' previous trial, and it had to be one that wouldn't make it seem as though he'd like to be lead prosecutor on the case if there was going to be an appeal. He would most likely have to have someone else get it for him...
"Mr. Edgeworth! Good morning!"
"Good morning, Detective."
"What do you need?" asked Gumshoe.
"What makes you think I need something?"
"You calling me, sir. As much as I'd like to believe you're calling only to say a nice good-morning, I know that isn't true." Gumshoe paused as if giving Edgeworth a moment to cringe. "So, what can I help you with?"
"Do you remember a recent case with a defendant named..." Edgeworth trailed off, trying to recall Matthews' first name. He groped his mind hopelessly, trying to picture the file, but it was to no avail. "Matthews?"
"Matthews?" Gumshoe echoed. "What's his first name?"
"Are you saying you remember a Matthews? And that there are other defendants recently with the same last name?"
"Uh, no, sir. There aren't."
"So you do remember then?"
"Yes, I remember."
Then why didn't you just say that in the first place, Edgeworth thought, gritting his teeth. "I'm happy to hear that, Detective."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes. My favor happens to involve him."
"Okay," said Gumshoe. "I have to ask though, why do you always take forever to get to the point? No offense, sir, but you sometimes you really leave me on the edge of my seat waiting for you to get there."
Edgeworth rolled his eyes, despite being alone. "Hmph. Remind you of someone?"
"Uh...nope! Who are you thinking of, sir?"
Sometimes Edgeworth would've liked to believe that Gumshoe was smarter than he let on. He'd like to...but the detective was about as sharp as a cue ball. Still, he was there when Edgeworth needed him even if that meant giving himself a headache in the process.
"Nevermind, Detective. I just need you to get a transcript of the trial for me. Would you be able to do that?"
"Maybe. Can I ask why you need it? That case was pretty cut and dry, sir."
"Let me worry about that. I would really appreciate it if you could get me the transcript."
"I'll try my best, sir," said Gumshoe. "I'll talk to someone when I get off the phone with you and let you know how I made out."
"Thank you."
"No problem, sir."
Edgeworth smiled to himself. As infuriating and daft as the detective could be, he was always dependable. Edgeworth would always go to Detective Gumshoe if he needed something and nine times out of ten, the detective would give Edgeworth what he needed. Even if he couldn't find what Edgeworth needed, he'd always try and find something else to help.
Once he was showered and dressed, Edgeworth was on his way to his office. He didn't have a trial or case at the moment, so he could dedicate his time to Matthews' case. He wanted to research as much as he could about the case. He should've made a copy of the file Wright brought, but he hadn't so there was no use kicking himself for it and wishing he had. Instead, he would do his best to research the case with what he knew. He remembered only the defense attorney's name from the file and the last name of the client. Surely he could find something.
As he began researching the case online (trying to find articles about it), he was able to learn again Matthews' first name and the prosecutor's name. Reading about the defense attorney, Edgeworth remembered what he knew about him—he was cheap. The man wasn't the best defense attorney, not even close, but he was cheap and at least then the defendant didn't have to settle for someone state-appointed.
Antsy waiting for Detective Gumshoe throughout the morning, Edgeworth had half a mind to speak the prosecutor himself. The one thing stopping him was the prosecutor asking why? What was he supposed to say? That he wanted to get a retrial? As if a prosecutor would help him do that after a guilty verdict...
Well, he supposed he could find some excuse.
Edgeworth stood up and went to leave his office. He opened his door to see a certain detective with his fist up, ready to knock on the door.
"I have a gift, sir," he said, lowering his hand. He raised the one that was held behind his back. "One transcript. Just for you"
"Thank you, Detective," said Edgeworth. He took the file into his own hand. "And thanks for dropping it off."
"Of course, sir."
He slipped past Edgeworth and entered his office. He walked over to wear the top to Edgeworth's old suit hung, looking up at it as if he never saw it before.
"You hadn't answered me when I asked if I could know why you needed the transcript," said Gumshoe. "Guess I can't."
Gumshoe was frowning theatrically, looking forlorn. Edgeworth knew that Gumshoe hated when he was left out, even if it wasn't any of his business.
"I just want to look over the case," said Edgeworth. "See how it was done."
Gumshoe turned to Edgeworth, "Why? You think they did something wrong? Do you think he was innocent, sir?"
"I...uh, I'd like to see what the prosecutor did. I would like to see the direct and redirect of the witness."
"I flipped through it," admitted Gumshoe. "There was only one witness, sir, excluding the detective. I thought that was kinda weird."
"I did as well. I would like to see how the prosecutor managed that. It's quite impressive."
Edgeworth had expected for Gumshoe to shrug and leave at this point, but he hadn't. He stayed put and turned back to Edgeworth's old suit. Edgeworth shifted uneasily.
"Is there something else, Detective?"
"Well, only that Wright asked me for the file for Matthews yesterday."
Even if Gumshoe could be clueless, Edgeworth wasn't sure if he had put the connection between Wright, Edgeworth, and this case. He tried his best to act as if he hadn't known Wright had the file and as if he hadn't read the file already himself.
"Is that so?"
"It's so, sir. Between you and me, I think Wright wants to get this guy a retrial."
"Hmph. What makes you say that?"
Edgeworth moved to his desk, leaning down and busing himself with the papers on it. He wanted to hide his face from the detective.
"He told me he thinks he's innocent," Gumshoe replied. "And then he asked for the file. Guess he's got himself a potential client."
"I guess so, Detective."
Edgeworth kept his head down, not wanting to see the detective's face. It didn't take a very high IQ to point out how weird it was that both of them were interested in a case that already had a verdict.
"Just thought it was funny you were both interested in it," Gumshoe said, innocently enough. "But who knows who the hell is also interested in it...I wonder what Wright will be able to do."
Edgeworth stayed silent, closing his eyes and hoping the detective would leave soon. Gumshoe shuffled a bit and then patted Edgeworth's shoulder.
"Alright, sir, I've gotta get back to the precinct."
Edgeworth looked up finally and ushered Gumshoe towards the door, all but pushing him. "Thank you again, Detective."
Gumshoe simply gave a noncommittal wave in response before leaving Edgeworth's office. Edgeworth sighed and sat at his desk. He was thankful for how swift the detective was, saving him an embarrassing trip to another prosecutor for answers. For once, he was thankful for aloof the detective was.
Reading the transcript, Edgeworth was able to pick up on a few contradictions in the witness testimony that the defense attorney had not called any objections to. Of course, the prosecutor was fine with ignoring them, or maybe he hadn't even been aware of them himself.
The problem though was it didn't seem as if the witness was lying. It seemed as if she was confused or simply misremembering, judging by the way she rambled. That was troublesome. Edgeworth wished he could hear her testimony or see it, it was much easier to tell if someone was lying when you could hear their voice or see their face.
Edgeworth spent the late morning and early afternoon reading the transcript and then reading it again. He went down to the copy room so he could make two copies of the transcript; one was for Wright and one was so he could make notes on it while still having a clean copy of it. He made notes on what he thought was solid, where he would objections, and any of his first thoughts about the case he wanted to remember.
There was a sudden knock on his door. His heart jumped in his throat.
"Come in, Wright."
Wright opened his office door and stuck his head in. "You could tell it was me by my knock?"
"You wouldn't be able to tell it was by me just from my knock?" Edgeworth teased. "Perhaps I just have more acute hearing."
"Acute, my ass," Wright mumbled with a smile. He came into Edgeworth's office and shut the door. Edgeworth noticed the beaten briefcase he was holding. "I spoke to Leonard."
Edgeworth rose a brow but promptly put it down. "Mr. Matthews," he said, mostly to himself.
"Yeah?" Wright sat on the couch. "And you were able to get the transcript?"
Edgeworth held it up.
"Great!" Wright grinned. "Where do you wanna go to look it over?"
"Anywhere is fine." Edgeworth rose from his desk. "I don't really care."
Typically, Edgeworth was incredibly picky about where he ate. When it came to having lunch with Wright, where or what they ate just didn't seem as important.
"Let's go to that diner," said Wright. "The one around the corner from the courthouse?"
"Alright. Sounds fine."
Wright jumped to his feet and the two left his office. Edgeworth was suddenly a little embarrassed to be walking down to the parking garage with a defense attorney. A lot of prosecutors absolutely detested defense attorneys. Even if they all weren't like that, it was enough of them to make Edgeworth quicken his pace to his car as Wright trailed behind him.
"Did you read it already?" Wright asked once they were in the car.
"I did."
"And?"
"And, what?" Edgeworth paid Wright a quick glance. "I already told you last night that I see why he got a guilty verdict."
"I don't know. I guess I just thought—I don't know what I was thinking."
Wright slumped in his seat, wistful. Edgeworth was itching to ask about his conversation with Matthews but decided to save it for when they were sat at the diner. He wanted to help Wright, badly. Although he couldn't help but feel a little guilty that he wasn't thinking of the defendant himself; he more so wanted to help Wright and...well, he wanted to spend time with Wright.
"That being said," started Edgeworth. "Would I be helping you if I thought there was no hope?"
Edgeworth wasn't sure if there was hope for this case if he was honest with himself, but Wright feeling hopeless wouldn't bode well for either of them. Wright was the type of person where if he lost his hope, it seemed hard for him to have any motivation. Then again, it seemed also seemed hard for Wright to lose hope.
Wright was smiling when Edgeworth glanced over at him.
"Of course. You're right."
Returning the smile would've probably given Wright a little more reassurance, but Edgeworth couldn't get the corners of his lips to rise. He stayed silent instead. He itched to put a reassuring hand on Wright's leg. Something about that felt...wrong; it was as if he was simply using comforting Wright as an excuse to touch him.
Instead, Edgeworth's hand move to his radio, pushing the button to it on.
"Thought you didn't like the radio in your car?"
"Never said that," mumbled Edgeworth. "I just don't have it on usually. I barely remember it's there."
"Well, if I had a car, I'd keep my radio all the way up! And I'd sing along..."
"That's also if you had your license, and your use of the word 'sing' is quite loose."
"Oh, please! As if you sing any better than I do!" Wright paused. "And hey! When have you ever heard me sing? And who says I don't have my license?"
"You were singing along to the radio last night, Wright," said Edgeworth, a smirk threatening to creep in his face. "And I just assumed, considering you don't ever drive. Was I wrong?"
Wright's shoulders slumped, "No...well still! I doubt you're any better at singing than me."
Edgeworth finally broke out into a smile, even if it was small. He shrugged, "Well..."
Wright just laughed but Edgeworth hadn't allowed himself to. The all too familiar feeling of shame raised in him. Despite his heart feeling as though it was fluttering and about ready to burst from his chest, Wright didn't think the same. It was too easy to forget that when the two had their back and forth, but it was something that Edgeworth needed to keep reminding himself. To Wright, this lunch was nothing more than getting help from a friend for a case. He hadn't stayed awake thinking of Edgeworth the way Edgeworth thought of him.
The two got to the diner and got out of the car. Edgeworth followed sheepishly behind Wright, ducking his head the entire time the hostess showed them to a table.
"I'll have a coke," said Wright when the waitress came to their table a few moments after they sat down, obviously anxious for her to leave so he and Edgeworth could talk. "Thanks."
"Water is fine for me, thank you."
The waitress smiled and left the table. Wright leaned forward, both of his ables on the table.
"Can I read it?" he asked. "The transcript?"
"Of course." Edgeworth turned to his briefcase, plucked out the transcript, and handed it to Wright. "Here you go."
"Thanks!"
Edgeworth watched as Wright bowed his head and read the transcript. When the waitress came back and placed their drinks on the table, Wright hadn't even paid her any mind—if he even noticed her.
"Are we ready?" she asked.
Edgeworth looked to Wright. "A few minutes, please."
She gave the same smile as before and was gone again. Wright hadn't even so much as glanced up. His lips were moving softly as he read the transcript, the words passing through them silently. Edgeworth also noticed, when he looked closely, that Wright also moved his face as though he were actually speaking the transcript; his face moving as if he were reading a script for a play he was going to be in. Edgeworth found that incredibly endearing and of course, bit back a smile.
"I still can't believe there is one eye-witness," said Wright, not taking his eyes off the transcript. "In public? I find that very hard to believe."
Edgeworth was hardly aware Wright had spoken until Wright lowered the paper and looked at Edgeworth.
"Mmm," he gave, hoping Wright would continue so he could know what he was talking about.
"Never mind that the witness's testimony is kinda...well, it sucks."
"Right."
"Sorry! But it does! How did the defense not notice all the problems with it."
"I wasn't going to reprimand you, Wright. I was agreeing."
"I thought you—" Wright cut himself off. "Nevermind...I just don't understand what was going through this guy's head. It's like he was asleep the whole trial."
"Well, he doesn't have the best reputation," said Edgeworth. "He's cheap, and that's about it."
"Yeah. I could tell," Wright put the transcript on the table and slid it to Edgeworth. He pointed to a line. "Doesn't that seem weird?"
Edgeworth leaned close to the paper to read it. It was the prosecution's redirect of the witness. "No? Seems like a normal thing for a prosecutor to ask."
"I guess so...but it doesn't have anything to do with the case."
"Wright, you know as well as I do that it's about planting a seed in the judge's head, to plant doubt," Edgeworth explained. "Either it's to get him to doubt the witness's testimony, in your case, or to doubt the defense's way of portraying the case, in my case. The defense could've—and should've—called an objection, but they didn't."
Wright nodded.
"Listen, Wright, what's the most important part of the trial?"
"Cross-examination, obviously."
Edgeworth shook his head. "No, not necessarily."
Wright quirked up a brow. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, Wright, you have the direct, cross, and redirect of anyone put up on the stand," said Edgeworth. "I have direct and redirect with my witnesses and you cross-examine them. Then, for your witnesses, or client if they're on the stand, it's vice-versa."
"I know that," said Wright irritably. "I did pass my bar exam, in case you forgot."
"Oh, that's because, with the way you squirm in court, sometimes I have trouble remembering that."
Wright narrowed his eyes at him. "Hardy-har-har...get to the point without insulting me."
The conversation he had with Detective Gumshoe rose in his mind. Perhaps he did have trouble getting to the point quickly.
"Redirect is the last time you speak with your client after the prosecutor cross-examines them. It's a chance to patch up or fill any holes the prosecutor dug in their story," Edgeworth said. "For me, and other prosecutors, it's the chance to do the same with witnesses."
"So, you think it's the most important because of that?"
"Well, I do understand how important cross-examination is, especially to you; however, the importance of the redirect comes from the fact that everyone overlooks its importance."
Obviously confused, Wright rose a brow.
"So...it's not important?"
"Listen carefully, Wright," started Edgeworth, "Not many attorneys have a talent for redirects. I've seen a lot of them waste their time and ask pointless questions they already got the answer to. When redirect becomes your talent, you become unique. You have a talent that most likely any attorney you're going up against won't have."
Wright scoffed. "Except for you, I guess."
"Except for me." Edgeworth continued, "In addition to that, as I said, it's a chance to...fix everything that the prosecutor picked apart in your client's testimony. Not only that, it's a chance to reaffirm the facts that help your case and get the judge to hear and think about them again."
Wright hummed an understanding and pulled the transcript back towards his side of the table. He pushed it to the side and pick up the menu.
"Let's go over it after we eat," he said. "I can hardly think on an empty stomach."
Edgeworth picked up his menu as well, peering over the top to see Wright's menu obstructing his view of Wright's face.
"I take it you still believe Matthews to be innocent?"
Wright kept his menu covering his face. "He hasn't given me a reason not to."
"Is that right?"
Wright lowered his menu, frowning at Edgeworth. Edgeworth chose to ignore Wright's frown and instead let Wright think about the question he had just asked.
Despite believing Wright was a bit naive, Edgeworth couldn't help but want to trust him when it came to his client's innocence. Whether that was because he had wanted to be Wright to be right for his own sake or Wright's naivety was contagious, he wasn't sure.
Edgeworth was eager to know more about Wright's conversation with his client. Badly, he wanted to press Wright about it so that he could have some definitive answers about Matthews, but if that made making Wright second-guess himself, it was going to have to wait. He wanted Wright to be confident for now; he could doubt himself when there was reasons for him to.
The waitress came again and the two dispensed their orders.
"How'd you end up getting the transcript?" asked Wright.
Edgeworth debated lying, he wasn't sure why.
"I asked Detective Gumshoe for it," he said, deciding on telling Wright the truth. "He mentioned that you asked for the file."
"And? You knew that already."
That was true. It wasn't as if he was surprised to learn that Wright wanted to get a retrial, so why did it bother him that the detective knew Wright asked for the same file he had asked for the transcript of.
"What?" Wright rose a brow. "You think he's...onto us?"
"Onto what?" Edgeworth asked defensively. "That we both want a retrial?"
"What are you so worried about? I was kidding." Wright shrugged, "So what if he knows you want a retrial?"
"It makes me a little uneasy, if I'm going to be honest. I don't know if you noticed, but the detective can be a bit of a blabbermouth?"
"Really?" said Wright sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."
"Well, Wright, I would just prefer it didn't get around that I was helping a defense attorney. I have people say enough bad things about me already."
"Why does that bother you so much?"
Edgeworth moved his right his hand to his left elbow almost without thinking. He clenched his elbow tightly, looking away from Wright.
"Well, I..."
"I don't let the things people say about me bother me if they're untrue," said Wright. "Why waste the time?"
Edgeworth felt similarly. He knew that any gossip about him that was untrue would be found out as such sooner or later, so he had never paid much mind to it. However, things said behind his back that were true weren't as easy to ignore.
"I'm not worried about frivolous gossip, Wright," said Edgeworth.
"Then why are you worried about what people say? Because you think it's true?"
"I don't want to talk about this, Wright." Edgeworth spoke quietly, keeping his gaze averted. "I would rather leave it alone."
"Fine," mumbled Wright. "We'll leave it alone for now."
Although Edgeworth wasn't a fan of the "for now" Wright had added, but he was thankful that Wright wasn't going to press while the two were in public. He could only hope that Wright would forget that he had ever brought the conversation up.
The urge to take a glance around the diner to see if anyone was looking at them was tempting. There was a chance someone would see the two together and figure one of them was up to no-good; it would most likely be Edgeworth they were suspicious of. Before the Von Karma trial, Edgeworth wouldn't have given being with Wright a second thought, but defending him had given Wright a little status.
"Anyway, Edgeworth, I appreciate you helping me with this. Really." Wright smiled softly and Edgeworth thought he could see a little color rise to his face. "Especially after what you just said...I just appreciate you sticking your neck out for me."
"I'm not," said Edgeworth. "I only wanted to—"
Edgeworth cut himself off. Only wanted to what? Spend more time with Wright?
"Help you, since you asked me to. I do owe you one it seems."
"It seems."
Even though Edgeworth was pleased to be spending time with Wright, he felt himself disappointed. He hadn't a clue what to talk about. It seemed every topic lead to a door that he didn't want Wright knockin on and that he'd rather leave closed. He was a little anxious when they went quiet. If Wright felt similarly, he wasn't showing it.
Edgeworth thought back to when the two were young. What had they even talked about? Edgeworth could barely remember any specific conversation they (along with Larry) had shared. The specific things he could remember were his feelings towards Wright and trying so hard to keep them to himself. He wasn't exactly sure what those feelings were back then, but he still would've been ashamed had Wright found out.
"Do you remember when we were younger, Wright?"
"No," responded Wright. "I've lost my memory of my youth."
"Very funny, Wright."
"Of course I remember. Why are you asking?"
"I was just wondering what we even talked about," said Edgeworth. "I can hardly remember."
"Huh..." Wright smiled and then laughed. "I don't know! Kid stuff, I guess. I do remember that you talked a lot...whenever me and Larry could get you to talk."
Edgeworth felt heat in his cheeks. "I did not!"
Wright kept on laughing. "Yes, you did! When I first met you, you just kept your nose in books but when we got you start talking, we couldn't get you to stop."
Wright laughing almost made Edgworth want to laugh. Almost. If he wasn't so embarrassed...
Before Edgeworth could defend his childhood self, their waitress came back to the table and put their meals on the table. Edgeworth ducked his head.
"Oh!" Wright pointed his fork at Edgeworth. "I also remember you were a pretty big cry-baby. You'd lose at a game and run away to go cry some place"
Edgeworth put his head down. "I'm so sorry I asked..."
"I was right?" asked Wright, leaning over. "I was just joking! I just assumed you were crying, I never actually knew for sure."
"I...Wright! Your joking is starting to get on my nerves."
"Sorry, sorry," Wright said, even though he really wasn't sorry and was most likely going to only make more jokes. "I'll stop."
It felt...weird to be remembered by Wright. Edgeworth wasn't sure why, but he always had the feeling that Wright remembered as little as he did about their childhood. Though, saying he didn't remember much was a lie, even if he couldn't recall specific conversation. He remembered what Wright was talking about, when he would run away and cry after losing. He remembered being more embarrassed than upset that he'd lost the game.
As for talking a lot, Edgeworth hadn't noticed. He had of course been aware that Wright and Larry had helped him out of his shell, but...it was rather embarrassing that Wright thought of him as talkative.
Wright kept glancing over at the transcript he had pushed to the side. Edgeworth almost thought out reach out and put it back in his briefcase.
"So," started Wright around a mouthful of food. "I think you should meet Leonard."
"Mr. Matthews," said Edgeworth, again for himself. "Ah...I'm not sure..."
"Why? Who the hell is gonna see and talk behind your back?"
"Not what I meant, Wright..."
"So...what did you mean?"
"I don't know," Edgeworth said slowly. "I'm not sure."
Edgeworth of course knew the reason he didn't want to meet Matthews. He didn't want to be able to tell he was lying. As of right now, he only had Wright's word to go off of and he was willing to believe it. Though, if he met the man himself and had doubts...
"Maybe after we get more of a grip on this case," he said to Wright. "Alright?"
"Alright, sure. I just think it would be a good idea for you to meet him."
"Hmph."
"Do you know much about the prosecutor?" asked Wright. "What's he like?"
"He's...efficient," replied Edgeworth. "He does his job."
"What does that mean? Don't we all do our jobs?"
Edgeworth scoffed, "As if the defense attorney in this case was doing his job...yes, Wright, we all do our job, but we some attorneys do their job and then think about it afterward. Most attorneys, sometimes you can't blame them, simply win to bring the bread home."
Wright hummed. Sometimes it was jarring to see how green he still was. Even after two tricky cases and one case that should've been impossible, Wright was still wet behind the ears. Edgeworth felt himself endeared, despite himself. Considering there was little he enjoyed more than being right, it was a joy to explain the simple things (at least what Edgeworth thought were simple) to Wright. He was always so...interested. Edgeworth wanted to believe Wright was interested in what he had to say, but he probably would've listened as intently to anyone else.
"I think Mia was like that," said Wright. "The ones who thinks about it afterward, I mean, even more so than me. She poured her heart into each case, even after it was done."
"Hmm. I think that's what made her first case especially traumatic," Edgeworth said.
"Mia only told me a little about her first case. She always got weirdly quiet when I tried to ask. I only knew what happened in the end though," Wright said sullenly. "Was it not traumatic for you?"
"I..." Edgeworth sighed. "Listen, if someone seriously had it in their mind to...do that, they will. There's no talking them out of it."
"So you..." Wright's face scrunched up. "What? Didn't care?"
"I didn't say that, Wright, but I didn't take blame for something I didn't do, or that I had no control over. You can't live that way."
"Right...was Mia like that?"
"You tell me," said Edgeworth. "I think she that she didn't take blame for things that weren't her fault, if you were able to ask her, but I believe she did."
Wright opened his mouth but Edgeworth continued.
"I'm positive you knew her better. You don't have to take my word on it."
Wright nodded.
"What did you make of her mentor?"
Edgeworth rose a brow, "Mr. Grossberg? He's fine, I suppose. I don't know him very well..."
"No, no, the one she dated."
"Oh! Mr..."
As it usually was, the name slipped his mind. He continued nonetheless.
"I thought he was going to be head council, so I was prepared to go against him and I made sure to do my research." Edgeworth paused, wishing he could remember the man's name. "Argh, what was it? His name was...something Spanish..."
"Uh..." Wright left his mouth hanging open. "She told me but I can't remember. I think it was—Oh! Armando! Or, Diego, was his first name actually."
"Armando!" Echoed Edgeworth. "That's right. He was very impressive. He was...well, he had some quirks. He was obsessed with coffee, I remember, because in all the transcripts I read, the judge would reprimand him for having it in court. He was weird, but very impressive still."
"Did you ever go against him?"
"No, I did not. I would sooner hide under my desk than be on the opposite side of the courtroom from him."
Wright laughed, a cackle that started off quiet but grew into a roar as he threw his head back. Edgeworth almost thought he could his heart stop with how much his chest swelled. He was completely enamored by Wright's unabashed laughter. It was times like these when he remembered why he felt the way he did towards Wright.
But of course with those feelings of adoration came the overwhelming feeling of shame and guilt; it was an uncomfortable mix. The two intense feelings Wright stirred in Edgeworth (enamour and shame) made him dizzy. Edgeworth wondered if other people in love felt similar to him in any capacity, if they felt guilty about their feelings.
Edgeworth paused. He was in love with Wright. Utterly and hopelessly so.
"You're a lot funnier I give you credit for sometimes," sighed Wright, smiling.
The corner of Edgeworth's lips twitched. He felt as if he was in a trance, as if Wright was talking to someone else and not him.
"Sure," rasped Edgeworth, not exactly aware of what he was responding to.
Wright's face twisted. "You alright there?"
"Huh?" Edgeworth blinked. "Of course."
Wright looked at Edgeworth skeptically, still smiling. Wright's sweet smile gave Edgeworth the sudden urge to confess his feelings, just to see what he would say. Would he still smile graciously at him? Or would he turn away in disgust?
"Wright," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I..." he trailed off. "The food's really good here."
Wright laughed again, the same way he had before. Edgeworth half-regretted what he said, feeling guilty for the warm feelings swirling in his chest.
"Are you sure that's water you're drinking and not vodka?" Wright pointed at Edgeworth's glass with his voice. "What's gotten into you?"
"I'm not into you," Edgeworth blurted. His face grew hot. "I mean! Nothing's gotten into me."
There was a pause. Edgeworth's heartbeat rang in his ears. Wright was making a confused face but...
There was still a slight smile.
"You're weird, Edgeworth. I'm starting to think that you're more strange than I once thought."
"Once thought?" Edgeworth asked, trying to veer the conversation from what he had so irresponsibly said. "How strange do you think I am?"
As Wright spoke, Edgeworth couldn't help but tune him out for he was too busy panicking. Was Wright going to go home and turn over what he had said? Why did he say that? Why had those words come out of his mouth? Wright was blabbering on and on but Edgeworth could barely even hear him.
Maybe spending this much time was Wright was a bad idea. It was doing nothing but stirring up those unnecessary feelings and making it harder to ignore them. Having Wright near him made him overly anxious and he was getting tactless and careless. Had the two not spent so much time the past few days, Edgeworth would never even have dreamed of confessing anything to Wright. He wouldn't have so stupidly blurted out what he had just said.
He wouldn't have kissed Wright.
As much as he kicked himself for doing that and cringed at the thought of it, Edgeworth also felt an uncomfortable excitement at it. He had gotten himself used to the idea that he and Wright would never kiss. The two hadn't even so much as even shake hands ever, when Edgeworth thought about it. Now, though, he knew exactly what Wright's lips felt like against his; something he thought he'd only ever know in his dreams. That night, Edgeworth had felt an intense heat and a shameful stirring below his belt. He could have sat in that same position for hours and hours if Wright hadn't pulled away.
Although Wright pulled away, quickly and suddenly, Edgeworth thought Wright had leaned in at first. When he leaned over to Wright, he thought that he felt Wright doing the same.
Even if Wright did lean in at first, it hadn't meant anything to him. The conversation afterward would've have went very different if it had.
Suddenly, Edgeworth was aware Wright was still talking.
"Who's the talkative one again?" quipped Edgeworth.
"And I—" Wright cut himself off and smirked. "Oh, what? You think it's me?"
"You've been quite gabby."
"Well, one of has to talk, at least. I'm not just gonna sit here and stare at you."
He could sure sit here and stare at Wright. Edgeworth bit back that remark.
"That's true, I suppose," he said awkwardly instead. "Anyway, Wright—"
"You'll come back to my apartment to go over the transcript, right? So you can help me prepare for a redirect?"
"I thought that's what lunch was supposed to be for," said Edgeworth, almost unable to keep his excitement out of his voice. "Why else would I be here?"
"Are you saying you don't like having lunch with me?" Wright teased. "I thought we were hanging out."
"I like having lunch with you." Edgeworth couldn't stop himself from saying. "But's a little more bearable when we're discussing law."
"Oh, please!" Wright waved his hand. "Spare me."
Everything that he had imagined about Wright's apartment came into his mind. He knew he had to be smiling, so he could reached for his water and took a sip to cover his mouth. He knew it was probably a bad idea to go to Wright's apartment if he wanted to keep their relationship professional, or even platonic. He was bound to slip up and say something again. But it was just so...
"Sure, we'll go back to your apartment," said Edgeworth, looking at his watch as if he had somewhere else to be. "That's fine?"
"Is it?" Wright asked. "You have something to do?"
"No, I'm free. I—"
Edgeworth cut himself off. How was he supposed to finish that sentence, "I freed up my whole day for you"?
"You're what?"
"I'm free, is all," Edgeworth replied, somewhat coolly. "I managed to finish my work this morning."
Wright smiled, nodded, and went to finishing his meal. Edgeworth did the same.
It was important that Edgeworth manage to keep his distance as much as possible, even if he was going to Wright's apartment. He couldn't blurt anything weird, as he had. He needed to also keep himself physically distant from Wright. Being too close clouded his thoughts and judgement. He had to think, seriously think, before he spoke and not allow Wright to press him against the wall.
Probably a bad way of thinking about Wright...
Edgeworth was so disgusted with himself. He was sure Wright didn't need to coach himself like this, even around women.
He looked at the table to see the waitress had brought the check to the table.
"I didn't realize how much I was craving this until now," said Wright, wiping his mouth. "You liked yours?"
"It was...alright..."
Wright made a face, then laughed.
"I'll go pay and then we can leave."
"I'll pay," Edgeworth said, quickly snatching the check from the table.
"No, Edgeworth, let me—"
Edgeworth swiftly slid from the booth and went to the counter, ignoring Wright. He waited at the counter, itching to look back at Wright. He paid the bill and went to the table. Wright looked up to him with a scowl.
"I wanted to pay..."
"Mmm. Too late."
Wright rolled his eyes and got up from the booth. Edgeworth grabbed his briefcase and the two left. Almost as soon as Edgeworth turned his car on, Wright's hands flew to the radio.
"Oh! I love this song!"
Wright's hands went again to the radio knob, going for the volume but Edgeworth beat him to it.
"You don't mind?" he asked.
"I told you I don't mind the radio last night. I just don't listen to it."
Wright shrugged and began to sing along. Edgeworth suppressed a grin. Wright's voice wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. It made Edgeworth go soft to see Wright so carefree; it had always been part of what he liked about him.
He felt Wright's hand on his arm.
"Come on! Let me hear it!"
"Hear what?" asked Edgeworth. "What are you talking about?"
"You're singing, supposedly you don't suck as much as I do."
"I—" Edgeworth almost laughed. "What? No."
"Why not?"
"You'll just have to believe me on this one," said Edgeworth.
"With no evidence? You're better than that."
Edgeworth rolled his eyes, again suppressing a grin. Bantering with Wright brought Edgeworth so much pleasure; that was part of why Edgeworth loved being in court with him. Even when he was losing, there was little that was more invigorating than having a back and forth with Wright.
Once the two reached Wright's apartment complex, Edgeworth realized how anxious he was. He had half a mind to tell Wright he forgot he had something he needed to attend out of fear that he would do something foolish. He hadn't wanted to given a chance to be with Wright, though, even if it would probably be easier to not be. Moreover, Wright needed him, or at least he thought he did.
"Edgeworth," started Wright, opening the door to the lobby. "The elevator is, uh, broken."
"Hmph. Is it now?"
"Yeah..." Wright gave an exasperated huff. "I'm only on the sixth floor though."
"Better than the climb to my office."
"You can say that again," Wright mumbled.
The pair walked up the stairs in silence, Edgeworth trailing behind Wright. He averted his gaze, looking everywhere might Wright. It felt too easy for his eyes to linger on Wright.
"Ah," sighed Wright, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Sorry. It's kind of a mess."
"It's fine," Edgeworth said absentmindedly. He looked around Wright's cluttered apartment, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. "I don't mind."
Wright dropped his bag at the door and walked to his kitchen. Edgeworth followed behind him, his eyes on the floor.
"You want coffee or tea, or something?"
"Tea would be nice?"
"I, uh, I don't know why I asked that," mumbled Wright. "I don't have tea..."
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Then coffee."
Wright smiled and nodded, "Right away, sir."
As Wright got to making coffee, Edgeworth sat down at the counter in Wright's kitchen. He felt almost guilty sitting in Wright's small apartment; it wasn't that his was necessarily big, but it was much nicer than Wright's surely.
Edgeworth's watched Wright's back. It was hard to not have his gaze linger in the wrong spots. It was hard to not have his gaze linger for too long. But...it was all too easy to do when Wright wasn't looking at him. It was entirely too shameful to look at Wright in such a way, but there was something especially wrong about it when Wright wasn't looking.
"Alright," said Wright. "Here you go."
Edgeworth cleared his throat loudly, trying to get his thoughts straight. "Thanks..."
Wright grimaced. "I hope it's to your liking...it's kinda swill."
"I'm sure it's fine," said Edgeworth, taking the mug into his hand. He wore a similar grimace to Wright's when he looked down at the dark coffee. "Probably."
Wright laughed, again that loud full of life laugh that made Edgeworth's skip a beat.
"Ok! Let's get started!"