Chapter 6

Champagne Promises

Phoenix looked over at Miles and frowned. His Dad had dropped him off again, early in the morning—since school ended for winter break, it seemed Miles was staying over all the time. Mom was very chill about it—Phoenix thought maybe she liked Mr. Edgeworth.

Miles was still staring at the TV blankly—the DVD had ended and the menu played over and over on the screen, but Miles kept watching. Miles wasn't as much fun as Larry.

Phoenix punched Miles in the arm, "Hey, let's go get Larry and bike out to the wall."

Miles clutched his arm where Phoenix had hit him and only nodded in reply. Phoenix stood and frowned at Miles before jogging into the kitchen to find Mom.

"Mom!" She was still sipping at her coffee and flipping through her recipe book.

"Phoenix you don't have to shout," she said.

"I wasn't shouting," Phoenix said, "Me and Miles wanna go to Larry's and then go biking."

"It's still early, did you call Larry?" Mom said, "I thought he was going to Fresno for Christmas."

"Oh yeah," Phoenix said, "Were they leaving today?"

"How should I know?" Mom laughed, "You could try calling. I'm thinking about asking Mr. Edgeworth to stay for dinner, when he comes to pick up Miles."

"Aw mom!" Phoenix said, "Why would you want to do that?"

"I thought you and Miles were friends?"

"Well," Phoenix leaned over to peak into the sitting room where Miles was still staring at the DVD menu screen looping on the television, "Miles is weird. I don't like hanging out with him anymore."

"Phoenix," Mom scolded, "His family is going through a difficult time."

Phoenix shrugged, "Well but, he doesn't have to be weird."

"Phoenix," Mom said.

"I could go by myself, then," Phoenix said, "and you can stay here with Miles."

"No," Mom said sternly, "It isn't safe—"

"Mom! I'm not a little kid—"

"You're my little kid," Mom grabbed him around his shoulders and kissed him on the forehead.

"Mom!" Phoenix said and when he looked up Miles had left the sofa and was standing by the window. Thank god Miles didn't see Mom trying to embarrass him.

"Miles!" Mom said and Phoenix sighed in dismay. Miles was just not fun anymore.

Miles came into the doorway and stood, waiting obediently for Mom to say whatever it was she'd called him over for. Phoenix groaned and looked at the tabletop, tracing the wood grain with his finger.

"Miles, dear, are you feeling well?" Mom said, "You're really quiet today."

Phoenix looked at Miles and then his mom, why was she so worried about him being quiet? Usually she was telling them to keep it down. She should be happy that Miles was quiet.

"I'm fine, ma'am," Miles said.

"No," Phoenix said, "You're being weird. I wish you'd stop it."

Miles looked directly at Phoenix and Phoenix was worried that he'd burst into tears.

"What are you doing here?" Phoenix said staring squinty eyed at the face in the doorway. Edgeworth was staring back in his pink suit and lacey neck cloth.

"Did I wake you?" Edgeworth said and he looked so lost and disappointed Phoenix had no choice but to let the other man inside.

"No," Phoenix lied, and he turned to lead the way into his apartment rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. "But it's early in the morning. What do you want?"

"It's after nine," Edgeworth said, "nine seventeen."

That's still early, Phoenix thought. If the burger places were still serving breakfast, it was too early to be up—unless you had to be. He left Edgeworth standing by the door and went back to put a sweatshirt on over the t-shirt he'd slept in. Then he motioned Edgeworth into his tiny kitchen.

"Coffee?" Phoenix said and Edgeworth shook his head. Good, Phoenix thought and set the half-filled carafe back into the sink—he didn't have to make any then. Then he sat at the table and rubbed at the three-day-old stubble on his chin.

"So what can I do for you, Prosecutor Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth cocked his head to the side and gave him a small smile, "I'm on my way to court today and I—"

"You're prosecuting that horse thief case?" Phoenix said.

"No," Edgeworth said, "But I noticed that your name had been crossed off the defense."

Phoenix shook his head, "I never agreed to defend that guy. If they had my name on there it was a mistake."

"Why?"

Phoenix was startled at the question. It was hard enough sometimes just knowing why he made his own mistakes—let alone why one of the clerks in the district court would make a mistake. "Why what? I don't know what your asking about Edgeworth."

"Why didn't you take that case?"

Phoenix smiled and paused to rub his face again, "I don't know—maybe I just didn't feel like it?"

Edgeworth looked disappointed, "Oh," he said.

"Was that all?" Phoenix said.

"Yeah," Edgeworth said, "and this."

Edgeworth produced a bottle of champagne from a canvas shopping bag that Phoenix only just noticed he was carrying and held it up toward him. Phoenix took it reluctantly.

"What's this for?"

"Happy New Year," Edgeworth said. Phoenix thought the man looked a little pleased with himself, and he was a little unnerved.

"Edgeworth," Phoenix said as kindly as he could muster first thing in the morning, "It's the second. You don't have to keep celebrating all week."

Edgeworth shrugged, "If you don't like it, give it to Larry. I gave him two yesterday."

"Is this some sort of charity you've started?" Phoenix said, he turned the bottle in his hands. He didn't recognize the label and guessed it was a vintage he couldn't casually afford. Edgeworth was frowning a little at him.

Phoenix felt sort of guilty now. Edgeworth was always a little weird, and all of the messed-up history he'd uncovered of his past during that trial certainly wouldn't have helped. He supposed he should be grateful Edgeworth had thought of him at all. Phoenix smiled at him.

"Thanks man," he said, "I'm not normally a champagne kind of guy, but I'm sure I'll enjoy it." Edgeworth was still frowning at him. Maybe the last part was going to far?

"What's wrong with you?" Edgeworth said.

Phoenix shook his head, startled this time at Edgeworth's perception. He had been a little down the last few days. But Phoenix just shrugged it off and smiled.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he said, "I think it's just the winter doldrums—you know…"

"You look awful," Edgeworth said, and he sat back in his chair and covered his nose and mouth, "You're not ill are you?"

Phoenix's brow furrowed, "Of course not. It's just—well… Maya left. She said she had to go back to her village to finish her training… I was just… never mind."

"She's gone to a University?"

"No," Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, "She's training to be a psychic medium."

"Oh," Edgeworth said.

"Yeah, I don't care what you think," Phoenix said defensively, "I've seen things with Maya that make me believe."

"No comment," Edgeworth said. Phoenix ruefully remembered the Psychic brought in for the DL-6 Incident and frowned. The ice was getting dangerously thin. Edgeworth turned away from him, contemplative, and his profile was silhouetted in the window. Phoenix raised an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like your dad?"

Edgeworth turned to face him glaring from under a furrowed brow. Phoenix smiled slightly, that was the Edgeworth he was familiar with.

"No," was all Edgeworth said.

Edgeworth's eyes were gray, and usually they looked stormy and dark in the artificial light of the district courthouse, but in the morning light they were pale, almost blue.

"I should go," Edgeworth said and he stood, "That Honeymoon trial begins tomorrow. It's going to be packed in the courthouse, but if you're interested, I can get you in."

"Um," Phoenix said, surprised, "I'll think about it. How long will you be at work today?"

"I should be done by five or six this afternoon," Edgeworth said.

"You should come by tonight," Phoenix said, "Larry's started at that new pizza place—so he's bringing dinner. We were going to have a few beers and watch Die Hard. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined us. Seven, seven-thirty?"

Edgeworth hesitated, "I'll think about it."

Phoenix walked him out, a little surprised but not all together displeased with his visit. Poor Edgeworth, even after the trial, with the whole painful truth laid out for the world to see—he was still a little fucked up. Phoenix frowned, maybe nothing could save him.

Phoenix finished filling the carafe and poured it into the coffee pot, then he added coffee and set the machine brewing. While he waited for his coffee to percolate, he sat at his small table and picked up the bottle of champagne. It was a thoughtful gesture, if a little awkward.

While he was holding the bottle, Phoenix noticed a small piece of thin cardboard taped to the bottom of it. A gift card? Phoenix pulled it off and opened it. His breath caught in his throat when he read it.

"What the—?" What kind of sick joke was this?

"Miles!" Phoenix was panting hard as he stood to try to get some speed going up the hill, "Miles! What are you doing?"

Miles had already reached the top of the hill and he was looking down at Phoenix struggling to catch him up. One foot on the ground and his bike tilted slightly underneath him. The wind whipped at his mousey colored hair and collar of his button down shirt.

Phoenix was panting so hard he couldn't speak when he crested the hill. Miles was looking down the other side of the hill. Phoenix frowned, if they went that way they'd have to climb back up the hill in order to get home.

"Miles…" Phoenix whined, "We shouldn't go down there."

"I think this is that road," Miles said, "Dad said it goes to a light house. I think it's the same light house that Larry said was haunted."

"I don't want to see a haunted lighthouse," Phoenix said.

"This side of the hill is steeper than the one we just came up," Miles said, "I'll bet we could hit a hundred miles per hour going down that hill."

"Don't go down there," Phoenix pleaded. He'd never been out this far from his neighborhood and he doubted that Miles was anymore familiar with the place than he was.

"Let's just go back now," Phoenix said, "Mom and Mrs. Baxter are making Christmas cookies today. Jilly Baxter is probably at my house right now."

Miles looked at Phoenix, eyes wild and his young brow furrowed. He crossed his arms and looked back down the far side of the hill.

"I can't make you come with me, Nick," He said, "But I have to go. And I'm going today."

"Aw come on," Phoenix said, "My mom will kill me if I let you go off on your own."

"And why are you in charge?" Miles said, "I'm older than you."

"Whatever," Phoenix said, "You're staying at my house."

Miles frowned at him and Phoenix shivered in the wind and he was afraid of the early winter night coming on and the calls of stray gulls distorted by the wind into chilling screams. And he was afraid for his friend. Miles had been weird for days—weird and withdrawn. Now he'd lost it and seemed determined to drag the both of them down that empty evil path that lead to that haunted lighthouse.

"Miles please," Phoenix said, "I don't want to go. If you go down there, I'm going to turn around and go home. I won't do it!"

"What are you afraid of Nick? There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"How do you know!"

"There's no evidence to prove it!"

"There's no evidence to disprove it either!"

"When people die they just die and they're gone forever! You never see them again! Ergo, ghosts and spirits are all tricks of the mind!"

Phoenix started to cry and he grabbed Miles by the collar and dragged him off of his bike, "Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"You're scaring me!"

"Stop being a crybaby then! Go run to your mommy! I can do it by myself!"

"No!" Phoenix said, "You have to stay with me. That's what Mom said."

"Your mom is not my mom!"

The two boys struggled in the dirt and let their bikes fall over. Miles always had his hair longer and Phoenix grabbed it in two fistfuls and shook him. But Miles also went to some kind of martial arts classes and he somehow managed to not only get out from under Phoenix, but also flip him over and pin him to the ground. They fought until both of them were panting and crying and red faced from exertion. Somehow in their struggle, Miles' bike slid down the far slope off the road and into a ravine. Both of them stopped fighting at the sound of it crashing into the deep ditch.

Phoenix stared down at the ditch, he couldn't see the bike, only the black trench shadowed in the fading evening like the maw of some giant monster. Miles was staring at the same thing. Then Miles started to cry, he pulled his knees up to his nose and hugged them and sat there like a little ball sobbing uncontrollably in the dirt. Phoenix glared at him sidelong.

Then he stood and dusted himself off and got on his bike.

"You're stupid," Phoenix said and raced his bike down the slope he'd struggled up earlier. It was so cool to go so fast and the momentum carried him back to the familiar streets of his neighborhood, where there were streetlights and cars and barking dogs.

Phoenix stopped his bike. It seemed like it had gotten dark so fast, and he'd left Miles alone on that hill. Phoenix frowned, the streetlights were turning on and Mom was going to be so mad, but he couldn't leave his friend out alone in the night. Even if he was stupid.

Phoenix left his bike at the bottom of the hill, feeling that he could trudge up it faster on his own two feet. The light was fading quickly and by the time he reached the top of the hill it was nearly full dark. Miles was still curled in the same spot where Phoenix had left him. Only, he was quiet and unmoving.

"Miles?" Phoenix said. After a moment that seemed impossibly long Miles picked up his head and looked at Phoenix.

"I thought you went home," Miles said.

"Come on," Phoenix said, "The streetlights came on already, we're going to get in trouble."

Miles didn't move but Phoenix held out a hand to help him up.

Phoenix was still picking up magazines and newspapers and the odd manga digests scattered on the floor around the TV when someone knocked at the door at twenty after seven. Larry hadn't said anything since he'd called around noon—but then Phoenix never really placed much stock in Larry's punctuality. So of course, this had to be Edgeworth. Phoenix frowned and shoved the armload of periodicals into a cabinet in the kitchen—he didn't have any appliances or flatware to fill that cabinet anyway. He half-hoped that Edgeworth would've declined the invitation—especially after that note.

Edgeworth looked nervous when Phoenix opened the door, and that made it worse. He must've just come from the office, because he was still wearing the slacks he had on in the morning—only, he'd discarded the cravat and suit jacket. Edgeworth was carrying a pineapple. He could be so strange sometimes.

"Hello," Phoenix said. He was trying very hard to pretend that note didn't exist. Edgeworth managed something of a smile and pushed the pineapple toward Phoenix.

"My boss suggested I bring some kind of platter—fruit or vegetables—but alas, I find I'm quite lacking in the art of food preparation and presentation."

Phoenix took the pineapple and looked at it in his hands, then he laughed.

"Okay," Phoenix said, "You didn't have to bring anything—just yourself."

Phoenix turned and bit the inside of his lip—maybe he shouldn't have said that last part? He motioned toward the tiny living area and held up the spiky fruit.

"I'll-uh… I'll go put it in water," Phoenix said and went into the kitchen. He turned the pineapple in his hands—do pineapples go in water? He set it on the table and the thing looked perfectly content so he let it be.

When Phoenix went into the sitting room, Edgeworth was still standing. Phoenix stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at him. Edgeworth was looking around the room.

"Please," Phoenix said after a while, "Have a seat."

Edgeworth planted himself on the end of the futon closest to the door. Phoenix watched him with amusement. He really was an awkward fellow. In court he was intimidating, even if he was helping. Here he was a fish out of water. Edgeworth looked at him and Phoenix startled. He turned to go back into the kitchen. Was I staring at him? Did he think I was staring at him? Where the hell was Larry?

"Uh do you want a beer?" Phoenix called out.

"No thank you," Edgeworth said.

"Um, how about a soda? I have red Fanta and coke," Phoenix said. Where the hell did the red Fanta come from?

"No thank you," Edgeworth said.

"Water?" Phoenix was starting to get desperate.

"That's fine," Edgeworth said.

Phoenix grabbed a plastic bottle from a case and a beer for himself. He handed Edgeworth the plastic bottle and then opened his beer. Edgeworth held the water bottle in his hand but didn't move to open it. He was still sweeping the small room with his eyes. Probably studying the room to learn more about me, Phoenix thought with a shudder. He threw his head back and swallowed half his beer in one draught. This was going to be very awkward, he shouldn't have invited him.

Phoenix frowned and looked out the window, it was nearly eight and in January it was dark well before eight. He swallowed another gulp of beer and then cleared his throat.

"So-ah… How was the trial today?" Phoenix said.

"Boring," Edgeworth said and he turned to look out the window too. "I didn't stay for the whole thing, as I had other business to attend to. But I heard we did get a conviction."

"Yeah," Phoenix said absently.

"Wright," Edgeworth said, "Do you believe Justice or Truth is more important?"

"Wha—?" Phoenix said, "Aren't they the same thing?"

"I wonder," Edgeworth said.

"I usually go with my gut," Phoenix said.

"That's not very scientific," Edgeworth said.

"Oh well," Phoenix said, "That's why we strive to find the evidence to back it up."

Edgeworth seemed to run out of social steam again and said nothing else. Phoenix finished his beer and went to change out his empty for a new one. When he came back he was horrified to see Edgeworth studying the back of a Steel Samurai DVD. Phoenix must have missed it while cleaning.

"That's Maya's!" Phoenix said.

"Oh," Edgeworth said and set it on the TV stand.

Phoenix sighed and joined Edgeworth on the futon—sitting as far on the opposite side of it as he could. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very large futon. Phoenix turned on the TV and was relieved when the 24-hour cable news channel came on. Edgeworth frowned at the smiling newscasters. Phoenix's eye strayed toward his face, studying the planes and angles brought out by the light of the TV, and he caught himself and guiltily looked at the floor.

He should say something. Before Larry got here. Something to make the awkwardness go away. They were friends before, when they were kids—why shouldn't they be friends now? That note, that little card on the champagne bottle that shouldn't stand between them like a wall. As long as Edgeworth understood the boundaries of their friendship, they could be friends no matter what his preference.

"So," Phoenix said, "Edgeworth—Miles—can I call you Miles?"

"It's my name," Edgeworth said, "Although, I have to ask that you don't act overly familiar with me in court."

So that was a yes… maybe? Phoenix lost his train of thought. Edgeworth seemed to eat sleep and breathe the law and his work.

"So Miles," Phoenix started again and Edgeworth looked directly at him, "That champagne you brought over this morning…"

"Did you like it? If I had known I wouldn't have given one to Marshall," He said.

"Who's Marshall?"

"Oh, he's a policeman."

"Oh, so you just went around and gave out champagne to everybody on New Year's?"

"Not exactly," Edgeworth said, "I only had eight bottles."

"Oh," Phoenix said, "Well the bottle you gave me—it seemed special—did you perhaps intend to give it to someone else?"

Edgeworth turned to face him, "Special in what way? They all looked the same to me."

Phoenix frowned at the floor, how do I say this? He didn't want to offend Edgeworth. Edgeworth was still looking at him; one eye colored by the changing light of the television and one eye endless dark and shadow.

"Um," Phoenix said, "The one you gave me had a card on it…"

Edgeworth put his face in his hands, but Phoenix thought he was smiling.

"Wright—Phoenix," Edgeworth said, "I didn't write those cards. I'm sorry if you're disappointed."

"What? I'm not disappointed—In fact, I'm relieved," Phoenix finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the floor. He pointed his finger at Edgeworth.

"Was that a joke?" Phoenix said, "Did you play a joke on me?"

"As much as I'd like to take credit for that kind of cleverness, it was really only an accident. I'm sorry," Edgeworth said, but he was staring strangely at Phoenix.

"You didn't really believe that I—"

"You know," Phoenix said, "I can't really tell. You do wear a pink suit in court!"

"It's not pink, it's magenta. A strong primary color," Edgeworth said suddenly defensive, "It's not very different from your suit."

"Wha—?" Phoenix said, "Are you colorblind?"

Edgeworth hesitated and frowned. Before he could answer Larry banged on the door. Phoenix kept his glare locked with Edgeworth for a moment longer before getting up to answer the door.

"Nick!" Larry said, "Let me in these pies are hot!"

Larry came in and set the pizza precariously on the TV, he smiled at Edgeworth.

"Hey Edgey! How are you?" Larry said.

"Well," Edgeworth said.

Larry grabbed Phoenix by the elbow, "Man, I need a beer."

Phoenix led him into the kitchen and opened the fridge, Larry kept looking back over his shoulder at Edgeworth.

"Nick, man, I think Edgeworth is in love with me… This is so strange, man."

Phoenix laughed out loud.

A/N: I just want to thank both my readers for reading this… It does matter to me

Sorry for the long build-up… Still Edgie-centric, but I gave Phoenix POV (I was starting to miss Phoenix—plus he's easier to write, since all the games are in his POV)

Also, I imagine Maya might be the type of girl who drinks red Fanta

4July2015 – Minor corrections and edits.