"Yes, it's a hundred percent post-consumer content." Miles held the phone receiver to his ear while he shuffled around with a few files on his desk. "Hello?"

"Hello?" Miles repeated. "I apologize, but I believe our connection is breaking up. Can you hear me? Hello?"

Miles listened intently for any sign that his client was still on the other end of the line. After a couple of moments, he began to finally hear a crackling voice. However, as he strained to hear it, another noise began to drown out that voice.

He looked over to find Franziska feeding papers into her shredding machine.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me for a moment," Miles said, before closing the receiver and looking to Franziska. "Really, Franziska? You have to do that right now?"

"When else would I do it?" she replied briskly, continuing the task, seemingly unaffected by the loud whirring noises it created.

"Yes, I'm sorry, please do continue, Mr. Rich. I'm sorry, what?" Miles attempts to hear his client were in vain. Feeling his frustration bubble up, he reached over and in one swift move, pulled the plug to the damned paper shredder.

"I deeply apologize for all the interruptions, Mr. Rich. So, you were saying? … Alright, that works perfectly. Can I ask—"

Franziska reached over pressed the switch hook, effectively ending the call.

Sighing heavily, Miles placed the phone back down and rubbed his temples, trying to ease his oncoming headache. "I very much appreciate the gesture, Franziska."

"Foolishly foolish fools get what foolishly foolish fools deserve. That's the saying, isn't it?" She calmly plugged her machine back in and resumed the cacophonous task.

Miles didn't even bother arguing.

He exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself, trying to logically find a way out of this. This client was his easily his biggest sale of the year. The company (predominantly run by women) simply adored him for reasons unbeknownst to him. He simply made a single phone call every year to renew their subscription, and it ended up making up a whopping twenty five percent of his commission.

Suffice to say, it was an important sale.

He couldn't have Franziska ruining something this important. However, seeing as that silver-haired woman was still shredding away, he decided to hold off calling them back for a while. Was there any way to get her to act more pleasant?

Maybe Wright would know. … What am I saying?

Nevertheless, he made his way over to the receptionist desk, where Phoenix was seated as usual.

"Predictable," Miles commented as he reached for a mint out of the jar placed on his desk.

"Say what you want, Edgeworth, I need something to do with all this time I have on my hands. And if playing Solitaire is one of them…" Phoenix paused and squinted his eyes at the computer as if in intense concentration.

Miles simply raised an eyebrow. "Six on seven," he pointed out.

Phoenix rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I saw that. But I'm saving it. I like it when the cards all make that fluttery sound."

"… Who wouldn't love that?"

There was sarcasm abound, but Phoenix didn't seem to mind.

&.

Miles finally remembered just what made this place so intolerable.

It was Larry Butz.

Today was Diversity Day. He definitely wasn't looking forward to it. Larry wouldn't understand the term 'politically correct' even if it came up to him and smacked him in the face.

He had tried to pick up where he left off with his client only to have that man usher him into the conference room for this meeting, forcing him to once again keep them waiting.

It's not like it was any better inside. The man from HR couldn't get a single sentence in without Larry interrupting every few seconds to try and subconsciously assert his authority.

Not to forget the blatantly racist remarks.

"I've got a great idea! Let's go around the room and each person say what race they're attracted to!"

Miles dropped his face into his hands.

&.

Miles returned to his desk later on and when he made the call, only to find out a certain someone had beat him to the punch.

"We never closed on our sale earlier… Oh. That happens to another co-worker of mine, actually. She gave you a discount? … Well, I certainly don't blame you."

So that 25% commission opportunity had evaporated into thin air.

Miles blamed Larry, mostly, for keeping him out of sync with his customer all day for that idiotic, painfully shitty Diversity Day meeting. It was mostly just a barrage of terrible comments that had ended up with a plethora of awkward silences and a red handprint on Larry's face.

Heaven knows how that man was in a higher position than himself.

He was still very irritated with himself as he returned to the conference room once again, Larry's pathetic make-up speech grating on his ears. It was a large loss of potential money, after all, and that champagne bottle of the victory that was supposed to be his had wounded up on Franziska's desk.

He took the seat next to Phoenix, eyes still trained on the ground. Any moment now, Phoenix would ask him what was wrong. He'd probably smirk and joke around, and then nudge him sneakily to try and cheer him up. It would probably even work a little bit, just because it was Phoenix.

But no, not a sound.

Instead, a touch.

As his gaze flickered aside, Phoenix's head settled gentle onto the side of his shoulder, soft and steady breaths indicating that he was asleep.

And for a reason he couldn't really comprehend, he felt his worries melt away a little. He felt a tiny, smug smile bloom upon his face.

They stayed like that for some time until Larry eventually resigned to stop talking around 5 p.m., signaling the end of the work day. He waited until everyone left the room first, including Larry, until he moved.

Somewhat reluctantly, he nudged the other blue-suited man in the side.

"Huh – what?" Phoenix sat straight up, then looked to Miles with widened eyes. "Oh, was I—Sorry about that."

"No matter," Miles said haughtily, feigning some annoyance. Phoenix seemed a bit too spaced out from the nap to respond with another quip, so he ended up filing on out of the room, muttering something about a missed call from "Dollie."

Miles remained seated, still feeling the rush of warmth present in his shoulder.

All in all, not a bad day.

this is a short one, (and i already kinda had it pre-written) but i thought it stood well on its own. :) feel free to point out any errors!