At that very moment, Miles Edgeworth was driving back to his apartment in his red-hot sports car, listening to a selection of classical music. However, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he could not stop thinking about his conversation with Wright earlier that morning.

"All's fair in love and war."

"But this is neither!"

He had attempted to gauge Phoenix's reaction as best he could, but had yet to reach a satisfactory conclusion. He sighed wearily. How was he to express his emotions towards the defense attorney without embarrassing himself in the process? What if Wright did not reciprocate his affections? It wouldn't be the end of the world, would it? No, certainly not…but it would permanently ruin him if anything got out. He could see the headlines now: "Demon Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Steps Out of the Closet for Phoenix Wright - Ace Attorney Mortified!"

His brow runkling in a frown, Edgeworth ran a hand through his silver hair. Damn it, this was so difficult. It hadn't bolstered his confidence when Maya Fey approached him with a hat of names in her hands, either. And of all people, he had chosen Wright. Now he had to get the brunette a Christmas present. Not exactly the most sociable creature, Miles Edgeworth sequestered himself away from large parties and gatherings, especially over the holidays. His one mistake this Christmas season had been not buying a plane ticket to Germany quickly enough - every flight out of the country was booked solid.

He stopped at a red light, anxiously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. What did Wright like? Was there anything else besides grape juice and a kids' television series? Wait a minute - he had made that little slip of the tongue at the café…

"I like y- I mean, fighting against you in court…"

…Then again, it couldn't be taken as solid evidence. It might have just…been a mistake. Edgeworth could never really tell with Phoenix - when he stuttered, though, it was very cute. Miles allowed a small smile to play across his face. He had to find something exceptionally good for Phoenix's Christmas gift.

Phoenix was snoring loudly by the time that a rapping knock sounded through the living room. He twitched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and easing himself from the sofa. Glancing at the clock, he took a few embarrassingly long moments to register the time. It was six o'clock, exactly. Trudging to the door, he opened it slowly and looked down at the two girls, blinking owlishly. Pearls was the first to bombard him, leaping forth and hugging his torso. "Nick!" She squeaked, and he patted her head absently in response. Maya was grinning widely, in an almost Cheshire-Cat-like fashion. It was very unnerving.

"Here's your slip, Nick."

She held out the piece of paper and he took it warily. She hadn't looked at it, had she? Was that why she was smiling? Knowing Maya, he wouldn't put it past her.

"Aren't you gonna look at it?" The channeller inquired pointedly, to which Phoenix gave her a reproachful stare.

"Later."

"Mystic Maya, Nick! I'm hungry!" Pearl exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "Let's go get something to eat!"

The defense attorney raised an eyebrow at Maya, who shrugged and echoed the thoughts. "My sentiments exactly!" She replied; a slight frown marred her features as Phoenix tucked the slip of paper into his pants pocket. Putting on a good face, Phoenix Wright disentangled himself from Pearl's grasp long enough to retrieve his scarf and pat his wallet with little reassurance. It had been lighter than usual, lately. He smiled warmly down at Pearl, and suggested that they leave for their traditional burger place. The proposition was accepted wholeheartedly, and they set off for one of the few venues that Phoenix could safely afford.

Around ten burgers and three large sodas later, Phoenix's confusion about that morning was sufficiently drowned in Grape-flavoured Fanta. The carbonation continued to bubble in his nose and he sneezed in response, receiving a 'Bless you!' from Pearls. Patting her head with a grin, he saw the two girls off down the road, waving avidly to them despite troubled financial status. He couldn't be mad at Maya – she just had a healthy appetite. With a half-hearted sigh, he turned to go back to his apartment. Once inside, he locked the door behind him. Though he hadn't let it show, Phoenix had been dying to unfold his slip of paper to see who was written on it. The curiosity had been eating away at him. Licking his lips in nervousness, Phoenix Wright nearly dropped the paper onto the floor – why were his hands shaking? Was he hoping it was someone in particular?

Edgeworth?

No, probably not. Miles Edgeworth was most likely on a plane back to Germany right now, the lucky bastard. Exhaling, he unfolded it eyes closed, and set it on the kitchen counter. Squinting at it, he couldn't quite make out the words through half-lidded eyes. It was a long name, though. Not Maya or Pearl or Maggey or Larry or Gumshoe…

Phoenix gritted his teeth and looked at it fully. The name on the sheet hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks. Written in Maya Fey's loopy script was the elegant, refined title:

Miles Edgeworth

He felt like a professional boxer had just punched him in the stomach without letting him tense himself first. All the air fled his lungs, and after a good ten seconds he inhaled deeply again – the blood rushed to his brain and left him feeling light-headed. Phoenix had to steady himself on the Formica counter, leaning over that damned slip of paper. A long breath of air escaped him, sending the sheet floating gently to the floor.

Damn it.

He clutched his head in his hands, looking for all the world as though he was sobbing desperately into the fake-marble counter. A bitter laugh emitted from his lips, and he held his sides - they were shaking with silent mirth. Of all the pieces of paper in the hat, Phoenix had gotten the last one, and it had to be him. "Fuck…" He muttered acidly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. God damn it."

Why him? Why did it have to be him, of all people? No wonder Maya had looked so smug…thinking that the two men liked each other in that way. She needed to stop reading all of those - what were they called? - yaoi mangas when they visited the bookstore. He had taken one look over her shoulder as she indulged herself before, and found himself disgusted. It wasn't…natural. In vain had Maya protested that the characters were in love, and that it was meant to be, but it still didn't wipe away the graphic image of two guys having sex. It had to hurt. The mere thought made Phoenix cringe. Coughing feebly onto the counter, he chanced a glance up at the Steel Samurai calendar taped to the front of his fridge. Two days until Christmas. He had two days to get Miles Edgeworth a gift.

What the fuck did he like, anyway?