Phoenix Wright hated train stations. Or at least, he normally did. They were full of people with somewhere to be, husbands meeting wives or long-lost friends reunited. Happy, smiling people sipping coffee from Styrofoam cups.

Today, however, was different. Although he didn't quite blend in with his shocking blue suit and red tie, Phoenix found a spot on Platform 12 just as the loudspeaker came on, announcing that the 3 o'clock train was due to arrive any minute. The piece of paper in his hand was damp with sweat. He unfolded it and read the familiar handwriting.

3pm and don't be late!

The train purred as it pulled into the station. It was one of the newer models, with a nose that tapered into a shiny point. The hydraulic doors opened and closed, releasing a cloud of passengers.

He saw her right away, petite and dark-haired, with her hands in the pockets of an elegant midnight black trench coat. She was facing away from him, towards the ticket booth, standing on tiptoe like a baby bird. When she turned he could have sworn the entire platform was bathed in light.

Nick!" she shouted. The distance closed between them as Maya Fey, the world's most famous spirit medium, careened into his chest.

"Maya," he breathed, taking care not to say her name so others could hear. You didn't become as successful as Maya without attracting attention. Tens of thousands of Kurain devotees had lined up in bookstores all over the country for her autograph. To say nothing of the sold-out readings and specials she'd done on live TV.

"I was worried you wouldn't recognize me," she giggled into his shoulder. "Sis told me to dress up and wear this really ugly coat."

"I think it suits you," Phoenix said softly.

"Nah. I look like a Grandma."

"You don't."

He smoothed back her hair. Maya looked up at him and smiled. "You're just the same old Nick, aren't you? I don't even need to call, just send a note on some random hotel stationary and you turn up, no questions asked."

"At your service, Mystic Maya." He took a small bow and reached for her suitcase. It was light, suggesting she only intended to stay a few days.

She watched him, frowning. "But you should be asking questions Nick. Like for example, why haven't I called? Or written or done any of those things a friend is supposed to do?"

"Those things are for the friends you actually care about," he said, keeping his voice light. Maya made an indignant sound and put her hands on her hips.

"Nick, I'm being serious here. I've been a crappy friend."

"Apology accepted," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Now, can we get out of here before my car gets impounded for a third time?"

The train station was still busy, but the frantic pace of rush hour had eased. They took their time walking past the food stalls, reminiscing and catching up. Maya still wore her dark jacket, which she now accessorized with a pair of oversized sunglasses. The look was polished, not stuffy at all, and Phoenix found himself staring at her in wonder. How had this sophisticated woman once been his assistant? He tried to picture a younger version of Maya, the one who had sobbed into his chest the night Mia died. All he could seem to remember was the pale silk of her acolyte robes.

"Oh no," Maya groaned. They had reached the front of the terminal, a large atrium dotted generously with benches and floor-to-ceiling windows. Phoenix looked outside to see what had upset her. A man with a press badge was gabbing into his phone, while several photographers were setting up equipment.

Phoenix swore under his breath. "What should we do? Want me to tell them to get lost?"

Maya shook her head. "There's no use hiding. Now that they've seen us, it will only make things worse."

"Ah," he said, rubbing his chin.

Maya adjusted her coat and took off her sunglasses. "And I think I know what this is about."

"Oh?"

She looked back at him, her eyes shining with tears. But they weren't sad tears, they were….happy? She was smiling and her face was so bright and beautiful that Phoenix's breath caught.

"Nick," she squealed. "I'm engaged!"

Then she raised her left hand, peeled off her glove, and wiggled her fingers. Phoenix was looking directly into the sun, or at least a miniature version of it. A bright yellow stone nestled snugly in a band of white gold.

"You're what?" he choked out.

"His name is Bob," Maya said, gazing lovingly at her ring. "We met six months ago. He's a lawyer too, but he does mostly civil stuff. I can't wait for you to meet him, Nick. I really hope you'll approve…"

She looked up at him, waiting for a response, but Phoenix could hardly breathe. The room was spinning and he had to brace himself against the wall for balance.

"Bob?" he said faintly. "You're dating a guy named Bob?"

"Not just dating, I'm engaged," she said with a hint of annoyance. "And I happen to think Bob is an awesome name."

By now the photographers had moved into position. They had a clear shot of them through the glass and Phoenix suddenly felt very silly, standing there holding Maya's suitcase. Who did he think he was, her boyfriend?

"Congratulations," he mumbled. "Now could we get a move on? This bag is actually pretty heavy."

Maya looked hurt but at that moment the cameras started flashing. Phoenix tugged at his collar. All of this attention was making him nervous. He took Maya's hand, Bob be damned, and pulled her into a hallway so that they were out of sight. Maya shrieked in surprise, catching the attention of a man and a woman wearing transit uniforms.

"Everything alright, miss?" asked the man.

Maya nodded, waving them off. "My boyfriend," she said, pointing at Phoenix, as though no further explanation was needed. The woman smiled sympathetically and pushed her co-worker out of the way.

Phoenix waited until they were alone. "I'm not your boyfriend," he said quietly. "At this point I'm not even sure I'm your friend. Friends don't keep secrets."

"Nick. I'm telling you now. You could at least try to be happy for me." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"And furthermore, this guy…Bob," Phoenix said, placing his hands on the wall behind her head. "You're saying he's a lawyer? Then why haven't I heard of him? Or why hasn't Edgeworth mentioned him to me?"

"He lives in Australia," Maya said flatly.

"And let me guess. That's where he proposed?"

"At the Sydney Opera House." Maya lifted her chin. "It was very romantic."

"I'm sure."

"Dinner at a fancy restaurant. Candles. A string quartet." Her eyes flashed with excitement. "And at midnight, he rowed me out in a boat full of roses and that's when it happened. Of course, I did get a bit seasick but Bob, he's so sweet, he brought a thermos full of tea and-"

"Maya. I love you," Phoenix blurted out, then immediately wished he hadn't. Maya looked like she might punch him, or kick him, or both.

"And I know this all wrong. I know you're engaged." To a guy named Bob, he wanted to add sardonically. "I'm the worst, right? Good old Nick, always playing hero at the wrong time. But I can't…" He licked dry lips. "I can't just let you walk away. I can't let you get married, not until you know the truth."

Maya blinked twice. She took her time, untangling herself from their position against the wall. With her head bowed, she let her hair fall like a curtain, obscuring her face. Then her palms came together in what Phoenix knew was a channeling pose.

"Maya?" he asked. He was starting to sweat. This was weird, even for her. Was she going to channel someone in this dingy old hallway? Mia maybe? Or her mother?

"Maya, say something."

There was a sound, like a hiccup or a tiny cry. Maya raised her head and Phoenix Wright got the shock of his life. She wasn't channeling anyone; she was laughing.

"Nick, you big idiot!" she cried.

"Maya, what's going o—" But before he could finish his sentence, Maya crashed her lips into his. The kiss was perfect, if a little frantic. She was practically mauling him, not that he minded.

"You're so stupid," she said, kissing him everywhere. His cheek, his forehead, his chin. "Of course I love you too. I just can't believe it worked."

His arms had, without conscious thought, snaked their way around her waist. Could she feel how hard his heart was beating? He felt light-headed, like he'd ridden his bike too long on a hot day.

"Can't believe what worked?" he asked.

"Mia's plan. She said that all I needed to do was tell you I got engaged."

"Wait…what?"

"Mhmm." Maya sighed happily, nuzzling against his neck. "Then you'd tell me how you really felt. That is how you really feel, isn't it Nick?" Her hands reached for his face. "Because if it's not…if you're just saying those things just because you feel jealous, or left out, or…"

That Maya Fey was standing here asking him whether he really, truly loved her was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"I'm not just saying it." He kissed her nose, and the fear in her dark eyes lessened. "But you need to be honest. Is this guy Bob actually real? Because I think I could take him."

Maya giggled. "He's not real," she said, shaking her head. "And you can thank Mia for the name. She said you'd hate it."

Phoenix rolled his eyes. He'd have to have a word with her sister the next time Maya channeled her. "So you're not getting married?"

"No I'm not. Unless..."

The unanswered question hung in the air between them. Phoenix cleared his throat. An incredible mixture of joy, relief, and yes, even fear was turning his insides to jelly. Could it really be this easy? He thought back over his career, from his years as a rookie to his disbarment, and realized that Maya was the constant in it all. She was the one who had given it meaning, the one whose voice, real or imagined, kept him moving forward.

There was no one in the world who understood him better. He didn't want there to be.

"I guess that depends," he said, smiling slightly. "On whether you could tell those paparazzi to scram. Because I'd really like a night alone with my fiancée."

"Nick!" Maya squealed, pulling him in for another, deeper kiss. "Consider it done."