Chapter 15

Monkey Puppet

Franziska held his hand while they walked in the garden. Miles was tasked to make sure she didn't get dirty before they went in for their lessons. The five-year-old skipped on the garden stones counting each one in perfect German then switching to French and English. The frilly skirt of her dress bounced each time she landed.

It comforted him to see her so happy. She was always wont to smile—at least someone in the cold forbidding mansion still had it in them to do so.

"…zwei …drei …vier…" Hop, hop, hop she went, gripping Miles' hand for balance.

"Come," Miles said, "We should go up there now."

"Um," Franziska said, "Can we stay outside instead? We can ask Herr Lehrer to meet us out here."

"I don't think he'll want to do that," Miles said.

"Let's go," Miles said, "I don't want to be late again."

"Late?" Franziska said, "No one cares if we're late."

Miles usually got whacked on the knuckles for tardiness… Franziska probably just never noticed.

She stepped off the stone she was standing on and followed him, never letting go of his hand.

"I'm going to leave soon," Miles said.

"Where will you go?"

"Your Papa is sending me to a boarding school," Miles said.

"What is that?" Franziska said, "Will you come back?"

"For Holidays, I think," Miles said, "but I have to stay there for months at a time."

"Four months?" Franziska said, "Is that a long time?"

"Not four months," Miles said, "Several months."

"That's like Weihnachten," Franziska said, "Whenever I ask Papa about Weihnachten he says it's still several months away."

Miles smiled, "Yeah."

Franziska pouted a little, "So now I will have to wait for Weihnachten and Miles Edgeworth."

"Yeah," Miles said.

Miles frowned at the mirror and buttoned the dress shirt. The shirt was dark in color and fitted garishly to his angular frame. But Franziska insisted, and he didn't have the energy for any more arguments. He didn't know what they had planned, but he'd been out once or twice with Gumshoe before, so it couldn't be that bad.

Franziska was right, the face that stared back from the mirror did look a little haggard and weary. He frowned and the reflection frowned back. The shirt really did look ridiculous.

Miles went into his closet and found one tie and held it against his shirt. He stared at it for a moment and then tried another one, then another. Finally he opted to forgo a tie altogether. He already felt silly enough in this getup.

When he went into the sitting room, he was greeted cordially by Wellington. He didn't sit, because his slacks were black and the last thing he needed was Pess' honey gold fur all over his pants. Miles sighed and put his hands on his hips, if only he could come up with a way to back out—his phone rang.

"Edgeworth," he said accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear.

"Good evening, Edgeworth," It was Chief Prosecutor Skye, "It's me, Lana Skye."

"Go ahead," Miles said.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier," she said, "I was looking over the transcripts from the trial—I just realized what you did. You saved us. We have a second chance at a conviction without risking Double Jeopardy—"

"Are you at the office Chief? I can come in if—"

"That's not necessary, Edgeworth," she said, "I feel like we put you in a tight spot with this one—you ought to take the night off."

"It wouldn't be a problem at all," Miles looked up and saw Franziska dressed up, her arms were crossed and she was glaring at him and tapping her foot. The dress was pale blue with no shoulders a wide belt of silver that accentuated her narrow waist and an A-line skirt that only came half-way down her thighs. Miles frowned at her.

"Edgeworth?" Miles startled, he hadn't heard her talking.

"Sorry, Chief… I was… distracted… What was that again?" He said.

Chief chuckled a little on the other end, "Take a break, I'll see you Monday."

"Yes, Chief," Miles said and he couldn't help looking a little disappointed.

"Are you trying to weasel your way out of fun? I've never met anyone who would sneak out of a party by calling in to work," Franziska scolded.

"They called me," Miles said though he seemed genuinely embarrassed at being caught trying to go to work.

"You look sexy in that shirt," Franziska said.

"You're not allowed to think guys are sexy," Miles said, wagging a finger at her, "Especially me. I'm your brother."

"We're not really related," she pointed out.

Miles eyed his little sister critically, she had definitely filled out since the last time she'd visited, and that dress she had on definitely emphasized every point of her more grown-up figure. He frowned at her, "Don't you have something a little less…" He waved a hand at her trying to find a word that wouldn't send her into a tirade. "Um… revealing?"

"I'm not a little girl, Miles," she said her eyes glinted stonily at him, "You can't tell me how to dress."

"Yeah but," Miles said, but he left it at that.

Franziska laughed, "Do you think I look sexy, Miles?"

"I think you look like you're trying too hard," he muttered. Never mind that she really was a beautiful woman suddenly. It was wrong to think that at all.

Miles opened the closet to find a jacket and Franziska was beside him immediately to lend her opinion. She was wearing perfume—actual perfume, not the alcohol based body sprays that most of the women at the office wore. It wasn't an unpleasant perfume; he had to admire her instinct with such things. The soft warm scent mingled with the smell of powder and lipstick—she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Miles!" He stepped out of the closet and frowned at her.

"What? It's my closet, Franziska, I don't need help navigating—"

"This one," she said and held out his pea coat.

"That's the one I was going to grab," Miles said mulishly.

She just stared at him, almost gloating, as she wrapped her bare shoulders in an oversized Pashmina shawl in a darker blue than her dress. Miles reached over her head to grab a scarf.

"Are you ready?" he said.

"I'll meet you down there," she said pulling out her phone, "I'm taking the elevator."

Miles hesitated; there was no way he'd lose her between his flat and the ten stories down to the basement garage…right?

"Don't take too long or I'll leave without you," Miles said huffily. It wasn't hard going down the stairs, why couldn't she just walk with him?

"You're just grumpy because you're hungry," Franziska said.

"That too," Miles said. He gave her a nod and walked out of the flat.

Miles was dismayed to find Franziska's friends already waiting outside the parking garage. There were two young ladies, one petite and dark haired—Franziska introduced her as Mei and the other tall and blonde—Dagmar. Mei and Dagmar giggled at him when he greeted them; Franziska had her hand on his arm but eagerly left him to join her friends.

"Nice to meet you, Miles!" Mei said and Dagmar nodded emphatically.

"Miles?" Miles said, "You can call me Mister Edgeworth."

Best not let these little girls get too familiar, he decided. Franziska made a face at him. He ignored her and turned and led the way toward the restaurant with his hands in his pockets.

"Frannie," one of them said behind him, "Your brother is so handsome."

"But he's so serious," the other girl said.

"He's just grumpy because he's been in court all day," Franziska said brightly.

Miles was walking in front of them, and he smiled a little—knowing that they wouldn't be able to see.

The restaurant was inside the downtown Sheraton so they had to enter through the hotel lobby. Gumshoe was waiting with two women, and looking a little less scruffy than usual. He grinned at Miles and his charges, the women looked confused.

"His little sister and her friends…" Gumshoe was explaining when Miles joined him.

"Gina, Chihiro, this is Miles Edgeworth," Gumshoe chuckled a little.

Miles tried to muster some pleasantry when he greeted them, "I hope you don't mind, my sister is visiting from overseas."

"Not at all," Gina said and Miles thought she looked familiar.

"You're a lawyer, aren't you Miles?" Chihiro said—she had a cute round face and her hair had been done up with chopsticks. Miles only nodded—he didn't need to start twenty questions in the hotel lobby.

Miles clapped his hands together, "Dick says no one here has ever been to Zaina's—so you're in for a great time. Have any of you ever had Lebanese?"

The ladies both shook their heads, Franziska and her friends were standing a ways behind them giggling at something on Franziska's phone.

"I guess we should get up there, both reservations are in my name—Edgeworth," Miles said, "It's up on the fourteenth floor."

The group made their way toward the elevators. Miles stood back until everyone else had filed into the elevator car.

"Wow, it's packed in here," he said, "I should wait for the next one."

Franziska rolled her eyes at him and then the door closed. Miles went to find the stairs.

The International School was all the way in Berlin. It wasn't a bad place, most of the students were the children of diplomats and international businessmen who were rather well to do, but moved around far too often to allow their kids the chance for focused study needed to get them ahead in the world.

Miles and Mister Von Karma travelled there by train together. Again, Mister Von Karma had very little to say to the boy and Miles, who'd never been much inclined to idle chatter, saw no need to bother him with his thoughts.

The school itself was not terribly large, though the campus grounds incorporated several buildings in the city. Mister Von Karma brought him to the dorm where he'd be living and settled a few administrative formalities before leaving to catch the next train back to Frankfurt. The woman that helped with his check-in took pity on him, and though Miles was very shy about his German and she spoke very little English, she managed to give him a descent tour of the campus.

He spent the rest of the day alone in his dorm, all of his personal effects—including the new school uniforms he'd brought—fit into the allotted drawer spaces with room to spare. He had nothing of decoration for his side of the room except for his father's baseball mitt. Miles put it up on the shelf over his desk and sat on his bed and stared at it.

Even with several months warning—the move felt so sudden. Miles felt like a kite whose string had been cut. He wondered how long he would stay here, before he was forced to drift somewhere else.

His roommate had posters on the walls of footballers and musicians that Miles didn't recognize. Miles didn't know anything about football or popular music. He wasn't looking forward to sharing the room with this other person. Not just because he worried about his own lack of knowledge about football and popular music—but because it meant that someone else would sleep in that room with him. Someone else would find out that Miles had nightmares that he sometimes woke up shouting and that he often cried into his pillow about all the dark things that plagued his dreams—things he still didn't know how to talk about.

Would this other boy think he was weird? Would he make fun of Miles? What if he was big and mean?

Miles lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, dreading the encounter like the condemned dreads his ultimate fate.

Miles sat across from Gumshoe and Gina and Chihiro picked the spot next to him. Franziska and her friends sat at their own table where he could keep an eye on them, but they could have their privacy. The two women got up to use the ladies room and Miles glared at Gumshoe.

"This is a nice place, sir," he said, giddy in the atmosphere.

"Why do you always do this?" Miles said.

"What?" Gumshoe said, rubbing the top of his head in a way that Miles thought was very gorilla like.

"The thing with the dates," Miles said, "I don't need help getting a date."

"I just thought—," Gumshoe frowned, "You haven't had a girlfriend since—"

"That wasn't that long ago," Miles said.

Gumshoe just laughed at him, "So Franziska looks really pretty."

"She's seventeen," Miles said glaring again, "You're not allowed to think she's pretty."

"I just meant…" Gumshoe sulked, "I'm sorry, Mister Edgeworth."

"How long have you known Gina?" Miles asked.

"We only met a few weeks ago," Gumshoe said, "She's an EMT. She had to rescue me when I got hurt in an attack."

"What attack?" Miles said.

"At the precinct, a couple weeks ago," Gumshoe said, "I went into the evidence room to put something away and Marshall sicced Billy on me."

"Billy?"

Gumshoe frowned, "Billy's the cactus…"

Miles grinned, "What a mean cactus. I'll bet he came at you out of nowhere…"

Gumshoe rubbed his head again, "It was kind of awful. It took Gina four hours to pull out all the needles."

The women returned smiling and chattering. Chihiro sat next to Miles and smiled at him. Miles thought her smile was a little creepy.

"Miles, how long have you been a prosecutor?" she said.

"Um," Miles said, "About five—almost six years."

"Wow," Gina said, "But you're only twenty-four…"

Miles blushed slightly, "Yes…"

"He's a prodigy," Gumshoe said.

"How do you finish law school so quickly?" Chihiro asked.

"Well," Miles began.

"You must've been on an accelerated course of study. Have you studied abroad? Do you like being a lawyer? I dated a lawyer when I was in college; he was very serious. You were in court recently, weren't you? I thought I recognized you. Can you talk about the trial? Or are you sequestered? Doesn't that sound awful? Being sequestered? It sounds like something contagious…"

Miles gaped at her while she spoke, he managed to shoot a nasty glare in Gumshoe's direction, but Gumshoe and Gina were smiling at some private conversation they were sharing. Miles couldn't wait for the food to get there so she would stop talking.

"You're so quiet, Miles," Chihiro said and paused to giggle.

"Silence is golden," Miles said under his breath and picked up his water glass.

"Oh my god!" Chihiro exclaimed and she grabbed his arm with more familiarity than he was willing to accept, "is that Madeline Tailor? The heiress to the Lordly Tailor enterprise? She's so beautiful, isn't she? I can't believe we're eating in the same restaurant as Madeline Tailor!"

"She owns this restaurant," Miles said, and pulled away from her and looked up to see the woman Chihiro was jabbering about and then returned his attention to the glass. Turning it in his hand and watching the patterns of light as the liquid sloshed in it. He couldn't wait for dinner to be over.

"I wonder if I should go and ask for her autograph? Did you know she was dating the singer from Birdwing? It was only for a short time though. They probably only did it for publicity. Do you like Birdwing, Miles? Miles?"

"Huh," Miles said, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." Oh he could hear her all right—but he was trying very hard not to listen.

"It's nothing," Chihiro said, "Some people say I talk too much when I get nervous. I guess I'm a little nervous—you don't look nervous. Are you nervous?"

"About what?" Miles said. He didn't even look at her. Where did Gumshoe find this woman?

"About this—um, date… I wasn't sure what to expect when Richard said—"

"I'm not nervous," Miles said curtly.

Chihiro frowned and he almost felt guilty—almost. He did manage to shut her up for a few seconds.

"So Miles," Gina said, as if she sensed the tension on the other side of the table, "You look well, I take it you've been able to avoid any unnecessary anxiety?"

Miles glared at her and suddenly remembered where he recognized her from. Gumshoe looked confused and he shifted his eyebrows in a way that always reminded him of Pess when she was confused. These people were so unsophisticated.

"Um," Miles said.

"Gina have you two met before?" Gumshoe asked.

Miles had half a mind to leave and join the teenagers at their table. "I thank you for your concern," Miles said with not a little condescension, "But that subject makes for poor dinner conversation."

Gina looked like he'd just struck her. Gumshoe frowned. Chihiro's eyes widened. Miles drank the rest of his water and sat back with his arms crossed and glared at the glass.

"So," Gumshoe said and rubbed his head, "How about that local sports team?"

Miles shot him another scathing look. The waiter came and laid out the mezze, giving a rehearsed description of the course to the party and telling them to enjoy without noticing the uncomfortable silence at the table.

"Uh, Dick," Gina said, "I'm going to run to the ladies room."

"Okay," Gumshoe sounded a little worried.

Chihiro didn't wait for an invitation but jumped up to follow her. Miles frowned after them. He looked at the platters arranged on the table.

"Well, I'm not waiting," he said and started to serve himself.

"I think you upset them," Gumshoe said, his voice heavy with disappointment, "They're probably going to cry their eyes out in there. Why do you have to be so rude Edgeworth?"

Miles paused and glanced at the very morose detective before setting the dish of baba ghanoush back on the table. Then he shook his head and smirked.

"Rude people attract rudeness," he said.

"They're both really nice girls," Gumshoe said and the big man glared back at Miles, "I don't care if you don't want to date any of them—you can at least be nice to them."

Miles frowned, Gumshoe rarely stood up to him like that. He stared at his plate for a moment and then he looked at Gumshoe. Gumshoe had put a single stuffed grape leaf on his plate and was distracted in poking it with his knife.

"Dick," Miles said and waited for Gumshoe to stop playing with his food, "I've had a very long and disappointing day. But that is no reason to be rude to your friends. I'm sorry."

The affection that shone in Gumshoe's eyes after his apology was almost frightening and Miles regretted it immediately. He took a piece of lavash and started tearing it to avoid Gumshoe's soppy expression.

"I met Chihiro while I was investigating this case," Gumshoe said, "She's a psychoanalyst. She has to spend all day listening to people complain about their problems—some of them are very trivial—I guess she tries not to listen so much when she's off duty."

Miles frowned, now he actually felt some remorse.

The two of them looked up when the women returned. Miles was dismayed to notice the tell-tale smudges in their eye-liner and the redness around their nostrils. Neither of them spoke to him when they sat, but they greeted Gumshoe enthusiastically. Something had happened while they were in the restroom, there was the uncomfortable air of some private victory between them. Miles looked up when Chihiro very loudly greeted the woman approaching their table.

"Miss Tailor, so kind of you to visit our table," she said. Miles gnashed his teeth and feigned disinterest in their visitor.

"Who is Miles Edgeworth?" Madeline Tailor said in a commanding tone—like she owned the place. Well, she did own this place—but that was besides the point.

"You know who I am," Miles said without looking at her.

"I need to talk to you Miles Edgeworth," she said and both Gina and Chihiro glared at him victoriously, "Come with me."

Miles frowned and stood to follow the woman. As she led him toward the back of the restaurant, they passed by Franziska's table, his little sister was watching him curiously. Miles nodded at her.

Madeline Tailor was an imposing woman. Heiress to the Lordly Tailor fortune, world-renowned Philanthropist, and glittering socialite. She wasn't very tall and she was slender as a sapling but graceful in the way she floated through the bustling restaurant. She had raven hair that revealed warm highlights in the light and thick dark lashes around azure eyes that recalled tropical waters and alpine skies. She was power and grace; beauty and dread; ecstasy and pain—wrapped in the latest designer fashion.

That's probably why he fell so hard for her, Miles thought as he followed her—caught in the sway of her hips, the confident set of her shoulders, and the angles made by her shoulder blades in the open backed dress.

She motioned for him to go first through the manager's door hidden by lavish oriental draperies at the back of the restaurant. Her office was through another door off of the open bayed room. The office was chic, modern, and barely used. Maddy Tailor didn't like to spend too much time in one place. She motioned for him to sit and he did; crossing his arms impatiently.

"I didn't expect you to come here," she said. Her eyes were hidden behind large oversized designer sunglasses that she never took off in public—not even to testify in court. That always annoyed him.

"I didn't think you were expecting me anywhere," Miles said coldly.

"I wanted to apologize to you—in person," she said, "and I wanted to return this."

Miles frowned at the small square velvet covered box. He took it and shoved it into his pocket without checking inside.

"You could've just mailed it," Miles said obstinate in his resentment toward her.

"It's a new year Miles," she said and tugged her glasses away from her face, "You should just let it go, and move on."

"New Year? Why does everyone keep saying—! It hasn't even been a month yet, Maddy. Not everyone is as fickle as you are."

"You think I'm fickle, Miles?"

"You broke off our engagement on Christmas. Over the phone. Then you went off on your little escapade with that monkey puppet… Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

"You were arrested for murder! I can't have anything to do a murderer," her stony façade was starting to crack. Miles suddenly wanted to see her cry.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way," she said and her gaze fell to the floor.

He leaned forward in his seat and shrugged, "It probably wouldn't have worked out anyway," then he stood to leave, "It was fun while it lasted, Maddy."

"You will not walk out of here like that Miles Edgeworth," Maddy said.

"You walked out on me," he said.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

I actually stole the double date with Gumshoe idea from a fan manga I read somewhere, I remember thinking at first that it was weird that Miles would hang out with Gumshoe like that—but the more I thought about it, it made way more sense than him hanging out with Larry or Phoenix like that—especially at this point in the story.

In a way Gumshoe is like Edgeworth's meathead little brother (even though he's older)…

Maddy Tailor isn't going to be a big part of this—I just wanted another layer to the complicated pudding called Miles Edgeworth…

Remember the really f-d up way Edgeworth got Adrian Andrews to testify in AA:JFA? I bet he does that crap all the time…

UPDATED 5JUL2015 – minor changes.