Author's Note: Hi! (: Sorry that this update was slightly late; I've been so busy recently. -_- Getting sunburnt and all that. Anyways, I hope you guys like this new chapter!I really liked re-writing this one... not sure why.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews last chapter! I'm glad you all enjoyed it! :P You're all so sweet and kind. (:

~Rainbow Fruit Loop xx

~Irresistible Love and the Turnabout~

Chapter Eight.

The day had taken a turn for the colder, and Phoenix had found his warmest jacket to keep himself from getting hypothermia. He had also found one with white fur around the hood - heaven knows how he'd acquired such an item of clothing - and had quickly discarded it, before vowing to never, ever speak of it again.

The defence attorney had just arrived at the Ricksha - an expensive-looking restaurant that made Phoenix wince at how much everything would cost.

Let's hope that Edgeworth keeps his promise to pay again.

As he glanced around, Phoenix was surprised to notice Miles standing near the entrance to the restaurant.

He hasn't gone inside yet?

He was wearing clothes that definitely weren't pink, and it made Phoenix grin.

Wow. He must have made an effort to be casual. Huh. Only Edgeworth would make an effort to be casual.

He had his back turned from where Phoenix was standing, and, very quickly, a bad idea formed in Phoenix's messed-up head.

As quietly as possible, Phoenix made his way over to his friend - silently glad that the shoes he was wearing weren't squeaking like they usually did.

Heh. He'll probably kill me for this, but…

Roughly, Phoenix dug his index fingers into the soft skin of Miles' waist - jabbing him in such a way that made him spin around angrily.

"Bloody hell, Wright." Miles snapped, glaring angrily at his friend. His steel eyes were hard and cold; he was obviously tired. "Can't you try to be at least a little bit mature in public?"

Phoenix grinned; completely and utterly mesmerized by his friend's overdramatic anger.

You almost make anger look good, Edgeworth.

"Hi, Edgeworth!" he chirped, deciding to completely ignore Miles' irritated demands. "Long time no see!"

When he was met with a stony silence, he raised an eyebrow. "You okay? You look tired again, even though I was kind enough to let you sleep for most of the morning."

Miles turned pink; obviously still embarrassed at having been asleep while his 'guest' was awake. "Shut it, Wright. It wasn't most of the morning."

"If you say so." Phoenix hummed to himself, glad at having got under the prosecutor's skin. Miles had been acting… well. The word Phoenix wanted desperately to use was 'strange', but it wasn't really the right word. He was acting, well-

Differently. You're different, Edgeworth.

He had been acting differently, and Phoenix couldn't decide whether this change in attitude was a good or a bad thing, because there was just something a little unsettling in the way that Phoenix had caught him smiling more than once over the past day.

He was talking willingly about his emotions, showing doubts in front of his self-proclaimed 'rival'… Something was changing in Miles' life, and sometimes it was good to see that his friend was still the irritable, arrogant man that he had turned into long ago.

"Shall we go inside?" Miles asked, striding inside the building with an air of annoyance. Phoenix laughed out loud, and followed behind him.

Ooh, I think I've definitely annoyed him.

As he entered the large building, Phoenix glanced around in awe. He could honestly say that the restaurant was the most extravagant-looking place that he had ever set foot in.

Trust Edgeworth to know the most expensive, luxurious restaurants in the city.

The walls of the restaurant were painted a deep shade of red; a stunning colour that reminded Phoenix of wine. Each of the mahogany tables were adorned with lacy white tablecloths and large, flickering candles.

It was something out of a movie, and it took Phoenix's breath away.

"Wow." he breathed, trailing along after Miles to their reserved table. "This is so… wow."

Miles glanced back at his friend, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. "It's superb, isn't it?"

The restaurant had a high ceiling - a ceiling that had been intricately designed. It looked old, Phoenix thought, possibly Victorian. In the centre of the room, there hung a glamorous, glittering chandelier that was completely at odds with the Victorian design, yet the aspects looked perfect together.

Phoenix nodded, and sat down in his seat. Miles followed suit, and Phoenix watched him with curious eyes.

"Did you smile just then?"

Miles looked taken aback at the question. "What?"

Phoenix grinned. "You know you did. It's not like you, Edgeworth. Actual emotion? Wow."

Miles scowled, evidently annoyed. "Leave it."

Knowing that he shouldn't push the subject, or make any more sarcastic remarks, Phoenix shut his mouth, and, instead, picked up the black and gold menu on his left.

"How was the rest of your day?" he asked over his menu.

"It was fine."

"Good."

The two men sat in silence, and Phoenix began to feel awkward.

We are not going to have awkward silences throughout this meeting just because Edgeworth's a little socially inept.

However, before Phoenix got the chance to comment on the weather - slightly cloudy, very cold, but, overall, not too bad - Edgeworth spoke up.

"How is your head feeling?"

Phoenix smiled. "Yeah, not too bad. Still tender to touch, obviously, though the painkillers the doc gave me are helping."

"Good." Miles nodded his head slightly, and glanced back down at his own menu.

You do care, don't you, Edgeworth?

As subtly as he could, Phoenix peered over at what Miles was wearing. The most prominent part of his attire was the large black trench coat that he had taken off before sitting down.

That coat probably costs more than my entire wardrobe.

"I'm glad to see that you made an effort to dress casually. No cravat; good job."

Miles scowled. "Well, you made such a fuss when we went to that pizza place, so I thought that I would try to keep you happy."

Phoenix beamed. "See, I'm always Wright!"

"Shall we order now?" Miles asked, completely disregarding Phoenix's childish attempt at a pun.

"Uh, sure."

"What do you want?"

Phoenix took a last glance at the menu. "Uh, I'll have the smoked chicken with fries and cooked vegetables." Phoenix said, pointing it out.

Miles looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "I take you out to an expensive, elaborate restaurant, and you choose to eat chicken with fries?"

He makes it sound like we're on a date.

Phoenix grinned sheepishly. "You missed out the cooked vegetables. I'm only ordering it because I actually know what it is. I mean, what the hell is," Phoenix put on a posh voice, "'Striped bass served with toasted shallot vinaigrette'? That sounds disgusting!"

Miles rolled his eyes. "It sounds elegant, Wright."

"Well, what are you having?" Phoenix challenged.

"I'm having the lamb risotto with salad." Miles said, smirking. "Do you know what risotto is?"

"Yes, I do, so shut up." Phoenix instructed, though his voice was void of all malice.

It's nice to be here with you, Edgeworth. I'm actually enjoying myself.

After Miles had called over a waiter and given her their orders, Phoenix sat back in his chair.

"First off, are you sure you're okay with paying for my meal? It's just, you paid last time."

"I don't mind. I wouldn't want you to have to go without food for a month because you had paid for food here." Miles smirked.

"Okay, great. I was worried that you were going to make me pay, because I think a meal here would cost me three years salary."

Miles shook his head, obviously amused at Phoenix's lack of money.

"Okay, so the second thing I wanted to talk about was… Drum roll, please… You finding a partner. I brought an agenda, like I said I would!" Dramatically, Phoenix whipped a piece of paper our of his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and slid it across the table to Miles.

"I can't read your writing, Wright. It's a mess." Miles sent the paper back. "So just tell me. Where do you propose we start?"

"I want you to tell me what you're looking for in a woman."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Phoenix smirked to himself. "Okay, what kind of qualities would you like to see in your partner?" He generalized the gender of this imaginary partner, just in case the word 'woman' was too specific for Miles.

"Oh. I see. Well, I would like this person to be… hygienic, obviously, intelligent enough for me to be able to have a conversation with them, compassionate about my, er, difficulties with certain things, and…" Miles paused. "Er, I want them to have a good sense of humour."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "What, so they appreciate all of your witty jokes?"

"Oh, ha ha, Wright. Just because I am often unimpressed with, say, your jokes, doesn't mean that I don't value a sense of humour." Miles snapped.

Well, I think I fit all of Edgeworth's criteria, so that's always good to know.

…Wait, what? This is Edgeworth's dating criteria. I don't think I want to be on that list.

"All right, all right, I was only commenting." Phoenix held up his hands defensively, and hurriedly moved on to the next 'topic'.

"Now, I brought along some photos for you."

Miles sighed. "Why? How could this possibly help my situation? I'm not going to date anyone we already know."

"I know, I know." Phoenix assured his friend. "I just want to see what type of person we should be looking for. You know, like, superficially. So, I want you to tell me whether the person in the photo is hot or not, okay?"

Miles rolled his eyes; evidently unimpressed with Phoenix's 'task'. "All right."

Phoenix pulled the photos out of his pocket, pulled the paperclip off, and held up the first photo - a photo of Maya.

"Nnngh." Miles flinched as Phoenix shoved the photo in his face. "Er…" He glanced over at Phoenix helplessly - obviously uncomfortable and out of his depth.

"Can't help you here, sorry." Phoenix commented noncommittally. "This is all your personal opinion."

I'm so mean to him. I know how embarrassed this is making him.

"Uh, not." Miles finally decided, folding his arms across his chest.

Phoenix discarded the picture of Maya with a sad shake of his head, and instead help up a photo of Dahlia Hawthorne.

"Not." Miles determined immediately.

"Er, really?" Phoenix asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Definitely. She was, after all, a murderer."

Phoenix shook his head. "Edgeworth, this is a superficial exercise. You can't call her unattractive just because of the type of person she turned out to be."

"I'd still say 'not'." Miles replied, handing the photo back to Phoenix. "Surely that hair colour can't be natural."

Phoenix let out a loud laugh. "If you say so."

He rejected the photo, and shoved a picture of his busty mentor, Mia, in Miles' face.

"…Hot." Miles muttered, blushing furiously.

"Ooh, nice one, Edgeworth!" Phoenix teased, grinning at his friend.

"Shut it, Wright." Miles commanded. "If you're going to ridicule me, then I'm not going to cooperate with you."

Phoenix sighed; his joke lost in the dark sea that was Miles' endless irritation.

"You know, when I told her about how I became a lawyer to meet you again and all that, she told me that she thought you had a cute face." Phoenix mentioned, watching Miles' 'cute face' for something - anything.

"Did she now." Miles muttered; not interested that someone he thought was 'hot' had, once, showed some sort of interest in him.

"Yeah. Pity she's dead. She probably would have let you take her to Kay's birthday thing."

There was silence from Miles' end of the table, and Phoenix decided it was time to move on.

He held up a photo of Franziska von Karma.

Miles took the photo, and looked at it strangely. "I can't comment on this. She's my sister."

"Okay, but if she wasn't your sister, and you saw her walking past, would you think that she was hot?"

"I don't know, Wright. What about you?"

Damn it. Don't try and turn the tables on me.

"Not my place to answer." Phoenix shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that my opinion might amend your true answer, and we all know that honesty is what we're aiming for here."

Thank God for my epic bluffing skills.

Miles rolled his eyes. "Not, then. She's a bit too… er…" Miles made a vague sort of gesture, and glanced at Phoenix helplessly.

"It's okay, I know what you mean." Phoenix grinned. "And, lastly…" he snickered to himself as he held up a photo of himself.

"Hilarious, Wright. Truly hilarious." Miles scowled at the picture, though Phoenix could see his cheeks slowly turning pink.

"Well? What's your answer?" Phoenix pressed, secretly dying to know what the demon prosecutor thought of his appearance.

"Er," Miles picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. "I'm not sure."

"Oh, come on, Edgeworth. Don't make such a big deal out of it! Just answer the question!"

Miles rolled his eyes, and threw his arms up; exasperated. "Well, since you seem so keen for me to answer, I'll say 'hot'. But don't, uh, get the wrong idea about that. It's not like I think about you… in that way, or anything. Because I'm not into you. Obviously."

Oh, really, Edgeworth? You seem like you're in denial about something. Do you want to confess your love to me, right here, right now?

…Yeah, like Miles Edgeworth would ever fall for someone like me - a lowly mortal. We really must work on his attitude to people 'below him'. I'll put that on the list for next time.

Phoenix snickered to himself. "Aw, thanks, Edgeworth; you're so sweet. And, uh, good to know about the… thing. You know."

Miles cleared his throat awkwardly; suddenly very interested in the tablecloth.

Let's move on…

"Okay. So, I think that first step to finding a partner is being able to accept yourself." Phoenix commented, not thinking about what he'd just said.

Miles' face clouded over, and Phoenix suddenly got the feeling that he'd said something terribly, terribly wrong.

"Wright… please. Is this really… necessary?" Miles asked, glancing up at Phoenix with dark eyes filled with hurt and unhappiness. The look on his face was one of desolation; wretched and lonely - his grief on full display.

Phoenix felt his heart clench in pity, and he cursed himself for bringing the subject up.

Of course. The one imperfection in Edgeworth? He completely and utterly despises himself.

Phoenix opened his mouth; ready to apologise for being so insensitive, when Miles spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Wright. I don't wish to appear… unappreciative of your efforts, but I can't… I mean, I don't feel that I can talk freely about… myself and my past. It brings up too many unpleasant memories."

"No, it's… I'm the one who should be sorry." Phoenix mumbled, embarrassed. "I… I forgot."

The DL-6 incident. It was stupid of me to think that Edgeworth would stop agonizing over the case simply because I found the true murderer. He hated himself for fifteen years. Why did I think that I, of all people, could stop his hideous nightmares? Why did I think that I could make the pain go away?

He glanced up at Miles, who had a dark and distant look in his grey eyes. Phoenix could tell that he was reliving that moment - the moment where, once upon a time, he believed that he had shot his own father.

For once in his life, Phoenix had no words. So, instead, he reached out and gently placed his hand on top of Miles'.

Miles' head snapped upwards, and, instinctively, he pulled his hand out from underneath Phoenix's.

Phoenix sighed.

Why doesn't he let me comfort him? He makes it so hard for me to tell him that I understand, and that I'm sorry that everything had to happen to him.

Taking a deep breath, Phoenix took Miles' hand again - silently telling him that he wanted to be able to comfort him, and that he understood.

"Edgeworth… I'm sorry. I understand how hard everything must have been for you, and I just… I just want you to know that you're not alone. Maybe you were back then, but you're not now, and you never will be."

Miles closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. "Thank you, Wright. I appreciate your kindness. I know that you found my father's true killer, and that I should be free of my… guilty conscious. Most days I'm fine, but there are other times when I wonder… What if, when I fired the gun, I hadn't shot von Karma? What if I really had shot my father?"

Phoenix smiled at his friend. "I think we should focus on the fact that you didn't. Von Karma did. Nothing will change that."

Miles smiled at Phoenix gratefully - pleased that, for once in his life, someone understood the pain he was still going through.

"Thank you for understanding."

Phoenix smiled back, though his smile was remorseful. He glanced down at their entwined fingers, and wondered how they'd ever got to this.

A few days ago, Edgeworth, you wouldn't have let me talk to you outside of court. Now… Now we're like this, and I'm left wondering what else is going to change between us.

Finally, Phoenix released his grip on Miles' hand; smiling at the silver haired man in front of him because he knew that he didn't have to say anything else.

"Okay, so, I was wondering if you would let me take you somewhere tomorrow?" Phoenix asked, clearing his throat slightly.

"Where?" Miles asked, narrowing his eyes.

Phoenix opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the waitress bringing their meals to them.

As she placed Miles' lamb risotto down in front of him, she gave him a nice smile; her pretty face flushing a pale pink. "I hope you enjoy it, sir!" She then proceeded to hurry off into the kitchen.

Miles picked up his fork.

"She likes you." Phoenix commented absentmindedly, already shoveling food into his wide-open gob.

"No, she doesn't." Miles sighed, and shook his head. "How could she? She doesn't know what kind of person I am."

Phoenix shrugged. "Be stubborn, then. I'm only saying: she likes you. And she's pretty, polite, probably smart, and hygienic. Why don't you go and speak to her? You could ask her to Kay's birthday, and then it'd be a problem solved."

Miles shook his head. "I'm not interested."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "But she's perfect! She looked so sweet! Ask her, go on!"

"I'm. Not. Interested. Get it into your thick head." Miles snapped.

Phoenix was about to make an offensive retort, when he suddenly stopped.

Why are you being so hostile, Edgeworth? What is it about her that repulses you? Is it that you're trying to tell me that you're g-

"What were you saying?" Miles questioned, bringing Phoenix from his thoughts. "Before the waitress interrupted, that is."

"Oh, yeah! I was just saying that I know the perfect place for you to meet someone."

"And where would that be?" Miles asked, taking an elegant bite of his food.

"The swimming pools!" Phoenix enthused excitedly.

"The… swimming pools." Miles repeated, glaring at Phoenix through narrowed eyes. "How could we ever… Aren't the swimming pools usually for children?"

Phoenix grinned to himself, and answered the question carefully - forever trying to figure out what was going on in Miles' head. "No, Edgeworth. We'll see a load of hot babes in bikinis!"

Miles flinched. "You make women sound so vulgar and cheap, Wright. I don't want to end up with some… flirty, bimbo airhead as a partner."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay. I promise you that you won't end up with some blonde bimbo. But we're definitely going swimming; no arguing."

Know when you're beaten, Edgeworth.

"I don't… I won't feel comfortable swimming, Wright. Are you sure that this is necessary?"

"It's all about stepping out of your comfort zone." Phoenix told him gently.

Miles was silent.

"Let's meet at ten." Phoenix suggested. "What about at the café next to the pools?"

"Which café is that?" Miles asked, heaving a reluctant sigh of defeat.

"The one next to the pools." Phoenix repeated.

Miles rolled his eyes, obviously exasperated at Phoenix's childish streak. "I'm glad that settles that, then."

"Good."

"Great."

Phoenix collapsed onto his bed; completely and utterly spent. It was nice to be home, he decided, even if 'home' was covered in two-day old popcorn.

I'm surprised at how much I enjoyed the evening. I never thought I'd be so willing to see Edgeworth outside of Court. I wonder if he feels the same?

With an inelegant huff - really, moving was such an effort sometimes - Phoenix sat upwards, and started pulling off his shirt. He was far too tired to have a shower - that would have to wait until the morning. He hadn't slept too well the night before; it was surprisingly hard to focus on sleeping when Miles was at his side.

I'm blaming that on the concussion, though.

After finally undressing himself, Phoenix sprawled out across the bed, his limbs heavy and fatigued, eyes already closed.

Just as he felt himself drifting off, his phone alerted him of an incoming text.

'I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then. M.E.'

Phoenix grinned to himself.

'Not if I see you first.'