No Chance
forkflinger

Summary:
Gumshoe may not have had a soulmate himself, but he always liked the idea anyway. Some people were just so perfect for each other that the universe wrote it on their skin and brought them together. Discovering that the man he had fallen in love with had a soulmate didn't shake his belief, even if it broke his heart. But Edgeworth wasn't interested in his soulmate, and that just didn't make sense.


Most research estimated that soulmates made up somewhere around thirty percent of the population world wide. Odds were pretty good that they'd find each other though, somewhere above ninety percent. If you had a soulmate, you were set. That didn't mean that you were doomed if you didn't have one. It just meant you had to be a little more proactive about your love life.

Gumshoe wasn't so great at that. Growing up, he'd had a couple crushes, went on a few dates in high school, had a little fun in college, but never anything serious. Now he was busy with his work, too busy to waste time on finding somebody. Also, he was already desperately in love, and it wasn't doing him any good.

One night, he found himself alone at a bar with the man he loved. They'd come here in a group, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright and Maya and him, celebrating a verdict, and then at some point Mr. Wright and Maya had left. Now it was just him and Mr. Edgeworth, having a drink and talking. Gumshoe wasn't sure why Edgeworth would stick around just to talk to him, but he was happy about it. Any time outside of work with Edgeworth was precious. Gumshoe had a beer and Mr. Edgeworth had some kind of fancy liquor, and it was just the two of them. Just talking.

Gumshoe knew not to get too excited. Mr. Edgeworth was probably just being polite by staying so long. It was a little selfish of Gumshoe to keep him here, really, and he should call it a night - but it was nice to see Mr. Edgeworth so relaxed, and casual, and maybe even happy. So Gumshoe kept talking.

Somehow the conversation had veered to the topic of soulmates. And by conversation, he meant his own ramblings, with infrequent interjections by Edgeworth. They'd been talking about some TV show, one Edgeworth hadn't seen, and Gumshoe had been explaining the plot, and Edgeworth had said something and now here they were.

"I always kinda wished I'd get one," Gumshoe said, swirling his beer. "Like that it'd just show up one day, I'd just wake up and see, 'Hey, pal!' written on my forehead. Even after I knew that wasn't how they worked."

"You're not missing anything" answered Edgeworth. "The whole concept's overrated."

"I think it's a nice idea. I dunno, maybe you'd think different if you had one."

"I do have one," he said plainly, as if it wasn't an announcement, and Gumshoe's heart sank. "And I know who they are."

Gumshoe swallowed and hesitated just a second too long. "T-that's great, sir!"

"I don't believe in it."

Gumshoe frowned. "How can you say that? If you have one - hang on, why aren't you, y'know, married or something?"

"Because I don't believe in it." Edgeworth drummed his fingers on the side of his glass. "Things just don't work that way. I've seen too many cases involving so-called 'soulmates' to think it's a magical ticket to happiness." He took a sip. "Soulmates cheat," he said. "Soulmates hurt. Soulmates kill, just like anybody else."

"But - but if you have one, and you know who it is - you should at least try!"

Edgeworth shook his head. "I've met him, and while I'll admit there's a connection, it's not… romantic. We will always be important to each other, but..." He shook his head. "It's complicated."

"I think it's supposed to be simple. I mean, if I had one, and I met them, isn't it just supposed to…" He waved a hand in the air vaguely.

Edgeworth laughed, tinged with bitterness, but with a smile on his lips. "We met as children," he said, shaking his head. "And then - well, you know as well as anybody what happened. That Miles Edgeworth is long gone."

Gumshoe nodded slowly, lips pursed. It woulda been rude to start guessing who Mr. Edgeworth was talking about, but he figured he knew, and he really wanted to know for sure. He wasn't gonna say it, though. No matter how bad he wanted to. Really really bad.

Edgeworth watched him silently for a long moment. Finally, he rolled his eyes. "Go on. Ask."

The words burst from Gumshoe. "Is it Mr. Wright?"

"Yes," Edgeworth confirmed, and the pit in Gumshoe's stomach dropped even lower. "It is." He rubbed a spot on his arm, almost unconsciously, and Gumshoe wondered if that was where the words were. "I'd expected I'd never see him again after I moved to Germany, but then one day, there he was."

"Th-that's destiny!" Gumshoe declared, loudly enough to hide the quiver in his voice. "I mean, how can you say, after all that, that soulmates aren't real?"

Edgeworth sighed. "Wright has become a very dear friend," he said, staring vaguely into the distance. "I have no doubt we'll always be in each other's lives. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, Dick. I supposed my heart's just not in it."

It didn't make sense. Soulmates were supposed to love each other. That was the whole idea! And of course soulmates were perfect for each other, and - hang on. What was that?

"Did you just call me Dick?"

Edgeworth froze, his drink halfway to his lips. "Did I?"

"You did!"

"Hmm." He set the glass down. "My apologies, Detective. I don't mean to be too familiar."

"You don't have to apologize, sir! You can call me whatever you want." He couldn't remember the last time Edgeworth had called him by his first name. Possibly never. He'd been referred to as 'Detective Richard Gumshoe' on occasion, usually when he was in trouble, but never 'Dick.' It sounded kinda nice the way Edgeworth said it.

Edgeworth stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the wooden floor. "Thank you for the company," he said, his voice suddenly cold. "I should be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh." Gumshoe looked down at the table, at Edgeworth's still half-full glass. "Okay, sir! Um… I'll see you!"

Edgeworth nodded and turned away, walking quickly to the bar. Gumshoe watched him exchange words with the bartender and hand over a card. Edgeworth didn't look back as he paid and left without so much as a glance. Gumshoe waited hopefully until Edgeworth disappeared before slumping into his chair. What did he do? He knew he'd screwed up, but he didn't know how. He shouldn't have said anything. He'd done something dumb, and then he was too dumb to know what it was. Maybe that was why he didn't have a soulmate. He'd be too dumb to recognize them anyway.

He tried to finish his beer, but it wasn't exactly fun anymore. With a heavy sigh he heaved himself up out of the chair and brought both drinks back to the bar. "'Scuse me, pal," he said, signaling the bartender, "can I pay my tab?"

"Nope," answered the bartender. "Your friend got it for you."

Gumshoe blinked. "Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Yup. You're all set."

"Huh. Thanks." Gumshoe left the glasses on the bar and walked out, hands stuck in the pockets of his coat. That was nice of Mr. Edgeworth. Guess he couldn't have screwed up too bad. He started his walk home a little happier.

The conversation stayed in his head for the next few days. He wasn't going to say anything, though - he was good at that! Well, sometimes. But he could stay quiet about this! Well, maybe.

He'd always been a big believer in the soulmates. His parents were soulmates, and he'd grown up on stories and tv shows and movies about it. The ones about people who didn't have soulmates were always a little sadder, but there were still happy endings to be found.

Then he'd grown up, and gotten into the police academy and the real world. It wasn't like the movies, and he knew that. He wasn't that dumb. There was still a part of him that always believed, though, even once he was promoted to homicide and saw firsthand the worst of what people did to each other, and to the people they loved.

And he'd met Mr. Edgeworth.

Mr. Edgeworth was handsome and brilliant and brave and strong and talented and so, so wonderful, and he would've been out of Gumshoe's league even if he hadn't been his boss. But that didn't help, so Gumshoe always bit it back and swallowed it down and never said a thing. But a part of him had always hoped. Faintly, quietly, uselessly.

Mr. Edgeworth had a soulmate and it wasn't Gumshoe.

Gumshoe was good at pretending he didn't mind. He'd had a lot of practice over the years, after all! Lots of time pretending, and being satisfied with scraps, and hiding pangs of jealousy when he saw Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright together, and then the guilt because he had no right to be jealous. It was a little sharper now, because now he knew, for sure, that he'd never had a chance in the first place.

That was okay. He would be okay.

It didn't go away like he hoped it would, though. Mr. Edgeworth had a soulmate, and that soulmate was right there, but they weren't together, and that didn't make sense no matter what Edgeworth said. Soulmates were supposed to love each other! That was the whole deal! Why wouldn't Edgeworth do something? He had trouble sometimes with taking care of himself - working late, skipping meals, stuff like that. Maybe this was more of that. Maybe it was whatever it was that made him think he didn't deserve it - which was ridiculous, and Gumshoe would never understand how anyone could fail to see how great Edgeworth was, including Edgeworth himself.

And why wouldn't Wright? His soulmate was Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, for crying out loud, one of the best people in the world, and he just wasn't doing anything about it? Even somebody as dumb as Gumshoe knew better!

It bugged him, especially when he saw them together - talking, but not holding hands. Eating together, but sitting apart. Laughing and parting ways without even a touch. Phoenix Wright had everything Gumshoe ever wanted, promised to him by the universe, and all he had to do was reach out and take it. Why wouldn't he?

Gumshoe wasn't gonna say anything. He shouldn't say anything. He couldn't.

There'd been a body found downtown, behind a museum, and they'd been assigned the case. Edgeworth's personal investigation was wrapping up, and they'd gotten a pretty good picture of what happened. Then Wright showed up, which usually meant everything was gonna be way off base. Gumshoe filled him in and let him poke him around; that was what Edgeworth had told him to do, after all. He kept an eye on him, though, as he wandered through the crime scene, examining the body, digging through the trash, and talking to Edgeworth.

That last part kinda got to him, today. Wright and Edgeworth. Buddies. Friends. Soulmates. He saw Edgeworth laugh at something Wright said and point him towards a corner of the scene. Wright, in turn, made a face and sighed heavily. Anyone watching could see they were friends. They didn't look like soulmates.

Gumshoe clenched his jaw but tried not to react as Edgeworth nodded and walked towards him, leaving Wright behind. "I'm going back to the office," he said. "Keep an eye on things here."

Gumshoe saluted. "You got it, sir!"

Edgeworth patted him on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Gumshoe to watch over the crime scene. And his soulmate, currently eyeing a dumpster suspiciously. It wasn't fair.

Gumshoe wouldn't say anything. He shouldn't. He couldn't.

He had to.

He marched over to Wright, planting his feet directly in his path. "Hey, I gotta talk to you, pal!"

Wright stopped just short of crashing into him. "Woah, uh. Sure? What's up?"

"C'mere." He grabbed Wright by the arm and dragged him around a corner. He wasn't rough, but Gumshoe was strong enough that he could pretty much move Wright as easily as he could Pearl. It was no effort at all to push Wright out of sight of the main investigation.

"Do you have a soulmate?" Gumshoe demanded.

Wright blinked at him. "What?"

Gumshoe poked a finger into Wright's chest. "Answer the question, pal!"

"Wow, okay, ow." Phoenix rubbed the spot where Gumshoe's finger had made contact. "Uh. Yeah?"

"And do you know who it is?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So? So?" Gumshoe threw his hands up. "Why haven't you done anything about it!"

Wright frowned up at Gumshoe. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine, pal, I'm tryin' to figure out what's wrong with you!" Ugh. He actually wasn't feeling so great. He had that sick sinking feeling in his stomach, but he pushed on anyway. "If you got a soulmate then you oughta be together, so why aren't you?"

"Look, it's not that simple - "

"It's real simple, pal! You get the words, you find the soulmate, and you live happily ever after."

"What's gotten into you? Why is it any of your business who my soulmate is or what I'm doing about it?"

Gumshoe grabbed Phoenix by the shoulders. "What if your soulmate's waiting for you, huh? What if he's just waiting and you're just not doing anything about it? You gotta do something!"

Phoenix narrowed his eyes. "How did you know my soulmate's a man?"

Gumshoe froze, eyes wide. "I… I guessed!"

"Gumshoe, are you - "

"I gotta go," Gumshoe said, dropping Phoenix. He practically sprinted around the corner and back to his car, because he had to go catalog evidence anyway and definitely not because he was running away, of course not. He could see Phoenix in his rear view, rubbing his arm, as he drove away. Aw, heck, he shouldn't have done that, should he? It was driving him crazy, thinking about Edgeworth not getting to be with his soulmate. Poor Edgeworth, all alone, stuck with nobody but Gumshoe. It wasn't fair. Edgeworth could be happy! And if Phoenix Wright was what was keeping that from happening, well, Gumshoe just wasn't gonna stand for it.

He had a feeling he was just making excuses for himself.

That afternoon, the autopsy landed on Gumshoe's desk. He stared at the Manila folder for a minute before flipping through it. This had to go to Edgeworth, which meant he had to go to Edgeworth. Usually he was happy about that. Now, he couldn't shake a sense of dread.

When he reached Edgeworth's door, he paused to take a deep breath. Then he knocked. After a moment he heard a response, so he eased the door open and entered.

Edgeworth was seated at his desk, hands folded in front of him. He didn't react as Gumshoe approached and laid the folder down.

"Uh… got the updated autopsy report… sir."

Edgeworth often looked mad. But he didn't look mad now. Now, Edgeworth looked pissed. Edgeworth looked like he was about to send Gumshoe to the chair, and he probably woulda deserved it, too. He wasn't sure why but he was about to find out.

"I received a call from Phoenix Wright," he said, his voice cold as steel. "He told me about your encounter at the crime scene."

"Y-yes, sir. I, uh - "

"You're fired."

Gumshoe's heart stopped. "What?"

"Get out of my office. I don't want to see you again."

No, no no no. Gumshoe's mouth gaped open. "W-why?" he stammered.

"Out. Now."

"Wait, I - I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please, don't - I'm sorry!"

Edgeworth hadn't budged. "You used personal information, information I told you in confidence, private information, to publicly assault and humiliate Wright."

"No! That's not what - I wasn't trying to - "

"You betrayed me," and for the first time there was a crack in his voice. "I trusted you and you used that trust for your own agenda."

"I just wanted you to be happy!" Gumshoe shouted. He took a shuddering breath in the silence that followed, fists clenched to stop from shaking. "I - I thought maybe he didn't know, or or or maybe it was, there was some reason you weren't - but maybe there wasn't, and I think sometimes you don't want to be happy and I don't know why you're not together with your soulmate. It's supposed to make you happy." He was rambling, saying things he shouldn't say, but he couldn't stop. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean - I didn't even think about - I - I screwed up, sir. I'm so sorry." He stood there, staring at the ground because he couldn't bear to look Edgeworth in the eye, on the edge of tears. He'd screwed up so, so bad, and now he was going to lose his job and never see Edgeworth again and probably have to move back home or go back to being a mover and give up Missile and never see Edgeworth again and stop being helpful, stop being useful, never see Edgeworth again. "I just wanted you to be happy," he mumbled.

The silence stretched out as he waited for a response, but none came. He wasn't gonna get one. "I'll give my badge and stuff to the chief," he said, pulling it from his pocket and looking at it. "I… goodbye, sir. I'm sorry."

Gumshoe trudged to the door, a space of a few feet that felt like a few miles. If he could make it out before he started crying that would be just about the last good thing he could do for Mr. Edgeworth. Ever. And it was gonna be hard, because he reached for the knob and squeezed his eyes tight and twisted it and held his breath and pulled the door open and bit his lip and took a step -

"Wait."

Edgeworth's voice was quiet, almost plaintive, and it stopped Gumshoe cold. He didn't dare to move, every muscle frozen, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Even then, even as Edgeworth turned him around and pushed the door shut, he still couldn't look up. "Why?" Edgeworth asked.

"You're supposed to be with your soulmate," Gumshoe muttered.

"But I told you I didn't believe that."

"I know, but I don't understand. I mean, I thought maybe Wright didn't know you were his soulmate, because that was the only reason I could think of. And then he said he did know, and I got mad."

"But why? Why is this suddenly so important to you?"

Gumshoe fell silent for a moment. He couldn't come up with a good reason, except for the truth. But he wasn't supposed to ever say that.

"You got a soulmate," he said carefully, "which means somebody gets to have you for a soulmate, and that's the luckiest guy in the world. And then I found out that he didn't care, and I just don't get it. You're supposed to love each other and be happy."

Edgeworth cleared his throat. "I do love Phoenix," he said. "He's a very dear friend, one of the most important people in my life, and I am confident that he loves me as well. But there are different kinds of love, not just… what you seem to think soulmates should be." Edgeworth stepped away and it took a conscious effort for Gumshoe not to follow. "You love your mother, don't you? Your friends? Your dog, little Pearl? But you're not in love with them."

Gumshoe furrowed his brow. "Y-yeah…?" He still didn't get it, and apparently it carried in his voice because Edgeworth sighed.

"Regardless," he said, pushing through it, "I understand that you meant well. I…" He cleared his throat. "I don't want to fire you. But I need to know I can trust you. What you did today was inappropriate."

Gumshoe'd never been bungee jumping, but he thought he might know what it felt like now. "Y-yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Thank you. I won't… I won't ever… I'm sorry."

Edgeworth rubbed his arm, looking away. "You don't need to concern yourself with my happiness," he said quietly. "It's not your job. I'm sure you have other things to keep you busy."

"Not really," Gumshoe muttered.

"Oh?" Edgeworth glowered at him. "Do I need to give you more to do?"

"That's not what I meant!" Gumshoe sputtered. "I meant it's not a problem! I know I don't hafta, but I like taking care of you. I want you to be happy!"

Edgeworth's gaze softened, and he examined Gumshoe for a long time. Finally, he said, "Love exists outside of soulmates."

"I know," Gumshoe answered, too confused by the sudden shift to stay guarded.

"How do you know?"

"Because I - uh." He couldn't say it, he knew better than that. Because Edgeworth had a soulmate, and it wasn't him. Except - except that wasn't true. Or, it was, but it wasn't like that. But even without that there were still so many reasons he couldn't say it. Edgeworth was his boss, and that was bad. And Edgeworth was so smart, and so handsome, and Gumshoe was a slob. Even if he had a chance he didn't have a chance. With the soulmate thing out of the way he was just left with all the reasons he was personally not good enough.

"Please," Edgeworth was saying, in a tone Gumshoe had never heard from him before, soft and sad and weird. He stepped closer. "Tell me."

"I - I shouldn't."

"Do it anyway."

"I - " Gumshoe swallowed hard. Edgeworth was so close now, and looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes that sparkled like crystals, and his silver hair fell just so across his forehead, and his lips, his lips, stop looking at his lips! He closed his eyes but that didn't help because now he could smell him, something like libraries and mint, and feel the heat of his hand as he placed it on his shoulder. He fought as hard as he could, but in the end he had no chance. He never did.

"I love you," Gumshoe whispered.

He couldn't look. He didn't know what he'd see - disappointment, anger, amusement - but it would hurt. There was no happy ending for him here. He'd always known that. This was just the end of a dream.

The hand on his shoulder slipped away.

Two arms wrapped around his chest and squeezed.

Gumshoe looked down, eyes wide with shock. Edgeworth was hugging him, face buried in his shoulder. Still staring, Gumshoe lifted his arms and hugged him back, because how could he do anything else? One hand wound up on the back of Edgeworth's head and he let it stay there, nestled in that shimmery silver hair.

Edgeworth made a sound, muffled against Gumshoe's coat. He turned his head so he could speak. "I never thought…" He trailed off, still clinging to Gumshoe. Gumshoe, for his part, was completely lost. He should be begging for forgiveness, or out on the street, or - or anywhere, really, except for here, with Edgeworth's arms around him. He didn't belong here. This wasn't for him. The universe had decided that long ago.

But…

"I have a soulmate," Edgeworth said. "And for many many years, I thought I'd never see him again. And that meant that no one - who would want somebody marked for someone else?" His voice was shaking. "Then he came back, and I was so different from the child he'd known. I might as well have been a different person from the soulmate he'd been promised. And I didn't love him the right way."

Gumshoe didn't respond, except to squeeze a little tighter. He'd never heard Edgeworth like this. And he still wasn't sure what he was trying to say, but he was going to let him say it.

"We talked about it. About you. He always thought I should tell you, but I… it wouldn't be fair. You deserve better than someone who can't give you everything."

"Please." Gumshoe's chest ached, and his eyes hurt. He couldn't take it. "I don't understand."

He thought he did, which was the real danger; he was probably wrong, because it was impossible. And if he screwed this up, who knew what would happen?

Edgeworth pulled back, just enough to look up and look Gumshoe in the eye. "Could you love someone with a soulmate?" he asked. "Someone who you know isn't yours? Someone who can't give you their soul, only their heart?"

Gumshoe nodded gravely. "I just told you that, didn't I?"

Edgeworth stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt or weakness, but Gumshoe met his gaze without flinching. It was too late now to flinch. And he still didn't, even when Edgeworth grabbed his lapels and pulled him into a kiss.

It felt like rain in a hot dry summer, and Gumshoe drank it in as greedily. He pulled Edgeworth closer and Edgeworth responded by pushing back until he was pressed against the door. His hand fell to the small of Edgeworth's back and his fingers clenched in Edgeworth's hair. If he wasn't anchored by the door at his back they would have floated away as the world disappeared. Edgeworth was moaning against his lips and pressed against him and this was the best dream he'd ever had because it felt so real. He'd wake up any second now but if he could just wait, if he could stay here just a little longer -

Edgeworth pulled away, gasping, and he was still there because it was real. It was real, it was real, and when Edgeworth placed a hand on Gumshoe's cheek that was real, and when he kissed him again that was real, and when he finally stopped, resting his forehead against Gumshoe's neck, that was real too.

Eventually, Edgeworth cleared his throat. "I… I apologize for the outburst," he said, and Gumshoe chuckled. "This isn't how I… would have hoped for this to go."

"I don't mind." After a second, he frowned. "Am I still fired?"

Edgeworth laughed, and if Gumshoe had thought he couldn't have felt better he'd been wrong. "No," said Edgeworth, lifting his head. "You're not fired."

Gumshoe sighed in relief. "Thanks. I'm still really really sorry."

"I know. I thought - I don't know what I thought." He ran a hand through his hair. "I was so angry, and I barely remember why now. And I almost sent you away. God, what if I had? You were almost gone."

Gumshoe brushed a stray hair out of Edgeworth's eyes. It was just as soft as he'd always imagined. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere."

"I know. I know." Edgeworth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds. "I've been through a lot of emotions today. I'm not… good at that."

"'sokay. Do you want me to let go?"

"No," Edgeworth answered so quickly he cut Gumshoe off. "No," he repeated, more softly. "Please."

Gumshoe nodded, and didn't let go. They stood for several minutes in silence, with nothing but the sounds of their own heartbeats. Eventually Edgeworth pulled away, and Gumshoe obliged him by opening his arms and allowing him to escape.

Edgeworth shook his head. "We both have work to do," he said, straightening his jacket. "I need to examine that autopsy report, and you, ah…"

Work. Right. Gumshoe'd forgotten. ...what was he supposed to be doing? "I gotta… go catalog the evidence?" he guessed.

"Yes. That sounds… that sounds right." It wasn't often that Gumshoe saw Edgeworth this out of sorts. "But this evening, perhaps, uh, would you care to… to come over? For dinner?"

"Yeah." Gumshoe smiled, and Edgeworth smiled back and it was like a flower blooming from under snow. "I'd like that."

"Good. I'll see you then." Edgeworth didn't move, still so close to Gumshoe. After a long, long moment, he stepped back, and Gumshoe immediately missed the contact.

"Um. Before I go…" He rubbed the back of his head. "C-can I kiss you again?"

Edgeworth nodded, so Gumshoe took him by the hand and brought him in again. This time the kiss was deep and slow, and it was even harder to break away. Edgeworth had to push gently on his chest to separate them, and Gumshoe still didn't let go of Edgeworth's hand.

"Right. I… uh. Right. Okay. I, um. I should go." How was he supposed to leave now? What if Edgeworth changed his mind? "I mean, I don't… I don't have to go."

"Dick." Edgeworth squeezed his hand. "This has been… a lot. I need some time."

"Right! Right. Sorry." Gumshoe released Edgeworth's hand, shoving his own into the pocket of his coat. "Uh. Bye."

Before he could stop himself again he turned, grabbed the knob, and pushed through. He took a breath. Edgeworth had a point, like he usually did. A lot had happened in a very short time. Some time to stabilize was probably a good idea. He'd go back to his desk, focus on the case, calm down a little. And then -

And then, later -

He started walking, because if he didn't put his feet to work they were gonna break into a little happy dance. As it was, he was still practically skipping through the halls.

Edgeworth had a soulmate. But Gumshoe had a chance.


The moment the door shut, Edgeworth collapsed onto the couch. His heart was racing, his knees were weak, and he - he needed -

His phone was on his desk, so he staggered toward it and sat heavily in his chair. The autopsy report went completely ignored as he grabbed the phone.

It rang once before Phoenix answered. "Hey!"

"Gumshoe was here," Edgeworth gasped, giving up the struggle to stay calm.

"Oh, no, Miles. Tell me you didn't do it."

"No. I - I mean yes, I did, or I tried to, but he - Phoenix, I told him. I told him everything. I couldn't - I told him."

There was a pause, the length of a few breaths, before Phoenix prompted, "And?"

"He - he said - he said he loved me, and I didn't know - I kissed him." His cheeks were growing hot at the memory.

The sound that came through the phone was something that should have come out of a middle-school girl and not a grown man. "I knew it!" Phoenix squealed. "Oh my god, Miles, Miles I knew it! You have to tell me everything. I'm coming over after work and you have to tell me everything."

"No, you can't! I - I invited him over tonight." He groaned. "Why did I do that? Am I supposed to cook something? I don't know how to cook. Is he going to expect me to cook?"

"Miles. This is Gumshoe. You could feed him stale saltines and he'd love it."

"But I can't - !"

"You've seen the man eat literal garbage. Just order a pizza and relax. Besides, he's not going to be there for the food."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Edgeworth frowned. "Wait. You don't mean - do you think he's going to…"

He trailed off, and he could hear Phoenix's stifled laugh. "His incredibly hot boss just made out with him and invited him over? Yeah. I think he's going to."

"We didn't make out! Oh my god." Edgeworth let his face fall onto the desk. "What have I done?"

"Hey, easy. Calm down. You wanted this, didn't you?"

"Yes, but - I don't know. It's too much."

"Miles. Listen. Here's what you're going to do, okay? You're gonna go home. You're gonna take a shower. You're gonna order a pizza. And then just see what happens. Relax for once."

"I can't. I - I should tell him I can't, I should call it off, I should - "

"Do you really want that? Or are you just scared?"

Edgeworth answered with silence.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Edgeworth sighed. "You're right. For once."

"Ah, I never get tired of hearing that."

"It's rare enough."

Phoenix laughed again, and this time Edgeworth smiled. Despite himself, the anxiety in his chest was loosening up. Sure, it was easy for Phoenix to be calm about it when he wasn't the one involved. But his confident reassurances were working, and Edgeworth could breathe normally again. "Thank you."

"Do you need me to buy you some condoms?"

Edgeworth hung up.