Chapter 29

Oblivious

Miles urged his mount toward the fence to greet her, but the horse raised his head when they'd arrived and started making those stupid mouth motions at the sky again. Franziska laughed and reached over the fence to take his bridle and make him stop.

"Mackerel," she said in a cooing voice, "Such a funny boy. Such a perfect horse for a funny rider."

Miles took off his helmet and made a face at her.

"I don't know about this," Miles said, "He tried to kidnap me yesterday."

"Nonsense, Little Brother," Franziska said and waved an index finger at him, "You just need to demand more control."

Miles only frowned at her in reply and then turned his disappointed gaze toward the paddock where other riders were warming up their horses.

"I'm not ready for this," Miles said, "I'm going to fall off and he's going to bite me again."

Franziska laughed, "Miles, Papa said you should learn to ride," Franziska raised her nose as she condescended, "It will teach you to take better control and it is much more refined an activity than football."

Miles only frowned. He didn't see how animal husbandry was 'refined'.

"I don't understand why we have to come out here, we can do this at the house," Miles said.

"It's just for fun," Franziska said, "I'm going to get Grani."

"Wait," Miles said but Franziska bounded off with out him. He groaned inwardly and put his helmet back on. He stared at the other riders across the paddock while twisting the reins in his gloved hands. This was just wrong.

The horse was Franziska's idea. Miles felt no connection or even friendship toward the animal—and he was certain the horse felt the same way about him. As a joke Miles named him Mackerel because the horse would stand around and push out his lips like a fish—Franziska thought it was an awesome name. Miles was certain she had no idea what a Mackerel was.

Cautiously Miles tapped the horse with his heels, and Mackerel bolted. Miles pulled on the reins in a panic, "Wait! Wait! No!"

The horse stopped in the middle of the paddock and put his head down to lick Mile's boot. Miles frowned as the horse turned in circles in an attempt to get a direct angle on that boot.

"Stop it!" Miles said, not yet realizing that his uneven pull on the reins kept Mackerel turning.

The horse lost patience and jerked his head away from Miles and caught the bit in his teeth. He was swinging his head in an attempt to jerk the rein away from Miles—but Miles had wrapped them around his hands. Mackerel bucked once and then bolted across the paddock. At the fence the horse reared and then turned and bolted in the other direction.

Everyone cleared the field, there was laughter and whooping as Mackerel went back and forth. Miles wrapped his arms around the horse's neck and shut his eyes. He was certain he was going to be killed, but he hung on anyway, willing the stupid horse to stop. Then the horse stopped.

Miles didn't move. What if Mackerel got all excited again? Plus everyone was watching. The laughing hadn't died down. There several comments about rodeos—that's what Americans did—so naturally Edgeworth was only trying to practice some rodeo stylings during his warm up. Miles was starting to wish he had died.

People had approached Mackerel, and even though his eyes were closed—Miles noted the change in light and the crowding shadows. Someone grabbed him bodily and pulled him off of the horse. He was placed gently on the grass, and shadows crowded around him.

The first thing he saw was Franziska standing over him, nearly silhouetted against the bright sky above. She was wearing her riding habit and her little hands were fisted and resting on her hips. Miles bit the inside of his lip and clenched his fists, trying to maintain his composure.

"Miles Edgeworth, why did you do that?" Franziska said.

"He just took off without me," Miles said.

"Are you hurt?" Miles didn't know the man, but he'd seen him working near the stables—probably someone else's groom.

"I'm fine," Miles said.

"Come everyone back up. Give him some air."

Someone slid his or her hands under his armpits and he was dragged up into a standing position. Miles swayed where he stood.

He glared at Franziska when he'd steadied himself, "Are you happy now?"

"Miles you failed!" She said pointing her riding crop at his nose, "You'll just have to try again."

Miles sighed and trudged toward the paddock gate, pausing only pick up his helmet and his riding crop. Apparently he'd dropped them. Franziska was skipping along next to him.

"You'll learn to like it!" she said.

Miles entered the apartment glumly and dropped his coat, his case, and also his jacket on the floor. Even as Mister Wellington began his inquiry Miles walked away from him and trudged toward his room. He paced furiously as he undid his cravat and when he was finished with that he ran his fingers through his hair tugging at it as if pulling his hair would make everything go his way.

He was still pacing when Wellington entered looking rather concerned at Miles' antics.

"Sir, are you quite—"

"No," Miles said, more forcefully than he'd intended. Wellington flinched.

"I'm sorry Mister Wellington," Miles said looking embarrassed at his having lost his temper with the old man, "I… Well, they've postponed the trial again."

Wellington smiled, "Well sir, you can't be angry with yourself about that. It wasn't you're decision."

"But that's the thing," Miles said, "Something's going on here. I've never been more ready to take a case to trial. I feel like someone's trying to stall so that—"

"Miles, dear boy," Wellington said, "I think your fears are unfounded. If you're ready today, you'll be ready when they decide to go forward again."

Miles was looking at the old man gravely; he still had his hands in his hair, his elbows over his shoulders, and held that position for a moment. Miles dropped his arms and sat on his bed.

"It doesn't seem right," Miles said.

Wellington took up Miles' cravat from the chair he'd thrown it in and started putting his things away. Miles stared at the floor.

"You're stressed out," Wellington said.

"I'm fine," Miles said.

He sat silently for a moment longer and then stood up to grab a shirt and a pair of jeans from a dresser drawer. He carried the clothing under his arm and went into the bathroom.

"Oh, and Mister Edgeworth," Wellington called, "Miss Von Karma called a few minutes before you came in. She said that you'd dropped her off at the courthouse. I told her to call again when she wanted to come back."

Miles didn't answer but continued to dress down. He didn't care what Franziska did. Especially since she was going to do whatever she wanted whether he allowed it or not.

Miles tugged his jeans up and buttoned them. He frowned when they slipped down below his hips—he'd have to wear a belt. He didn't have very many jeans and he only wore them rarely and only because he'd ruined too many pairs of slacks when Pess decided to drag him around in the grass. Miles frowned at the unhappy young man staring back him from the mirror. He was owl-eyed and drawn. Odd, the nightmares had stopped.

He took up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth before exiting the bathroom to pull a dark tee shirt over the white one he still wore. He found a belt to cinch the jeans that threatened to slide right off of his—well…

"Pess," Miles called when he exited his room, "Come on girl."

Pess ran up to him tail wagging and tongue lolling. She hopped up a few times happy to see him. At least someone was always happy to see him.

"Would you like to stay for luncheon, Mister Edgeworth?"

Miles turned to look at Wellington—his arms still around Pess' neck—and wondered where he'd come from.

"No," Miles said, "I'm going to take Pess out for a bit."

"Mrs. Kucharka is worried that you're getting thin," Wellington said.

Miles glared at the old butler, "I'm fine. Tell her I'll stop and get something while I'm out."

"Very well, sir," Wellington said.

Miles grabbed the first jacket he found in the closet and lead Pess out of the flat.

In the quiet of the stairwell Miles paused and said, "I don't know, girl. Maybe I'm starting to slip."

Pess cocked her head at him and then licked his hand.

"Yeah," Miles said, "we should go."

They went all the way down to the garage where he grabbed a small foam football and a Frisbee from a bin he kept there. Outside it was sunny with only a bit of the lingering winter chill. It will be cold when the sun sets, Miles thought as he gazed up at the sky. He was so clever to come out early.

Pess seemed to soak in some of his excitement and kept up an eager but steady pace as they walked. Miles was feeling better already—even if it wasn't obvious by his posture—sunglasses, head down, and hands in his pockets. He was great as long as he didn't have to talk to anyone.

The walk was pleasant—with no interruptions—and Miles even smiled a little as they entered Expose Park. Pess was wagging her tail furiously and started tugging at the leash. She all but dragged him across the park.

"Pess!" Miles said.

She stopped and looked at him tail still wagging. Miles moved to shorten the distance between them on the leash—so he could better control her—and then Pess bolted.

"Hey what!"

She pulled him along across the park until eventually he tripped and fell. She managed to drag him for several feet before she noticed. The big dog stopped and put her front paws on his shoulders and began licking his face and ears excitedly.

He was still flustered from her dragging him, but as she continued, Miles started to laugh. He swung his arms out to push her big head away, "Stop!"

Pess slowed down and since he was on the ground, she lay on top of him.

"You're trying to kill me…" he muttered. Pess was looking around, her tongue lolling from her doggy grin. She paused to lick him once after he spoke before turning her attention elsewhere.

Miles started to sit up, bringing his head and shoulders off of the ground.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

Miles didn't see who she was but he dropped his head back on the ground with a groan. Pess was wagging her tail vigorously—he could tell because she was still sitting on him. Pess barked once and her significant weight shifted and then left him.

The woman or women made nervous gasps. Miles put his hands on his face.

"Pess," he said.

Pess sat near him—he could feel her wagging tail hitting his thigh.

"She wont hurt you," Miles said to whoever it was still standing in his vicinity.

"Miles Edgeworth? Is that you?"

Miles popped up on his elbows and looked up to see Doctor Young and Gina the EMT. They were each carrying soft pretzels and fru-fru iced coffee in clear cups.

"Seriously?" Miles said—maybe a little louder than he'd intended. He flipped over onto his stomach and put his hands over his head like a prisoner.

"Mister Edgeworth?" It must've been Gina, because her voice didn't grate on his psyche the way Chihiro's did, "We saw her drag you across the park. You're not hurt are you?"

"I'm fine," Miles grumbled into the grass.

"Can I pet your dog?" That was definitely the Doctor.

"Sure," he said.

"Why are you lying like that?" Gina said and he could feel her shadow and her presence fall over him as she knelt beside him. She was well inside his bubble.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'M FINE!" Miles said, "I'm just… um… relaxing." So I don't have to interact with you two, he added mentally.

Gina laughed and her hand fell onto his shoulder and he stiffened beneath her touch.

"Well okay," she said, "I guess you just want some time alone."

She stood and moved away.

"That's very perceptive of you," Miles said sardonically into the grass, but he relaxed some.

"She's sooo nice," Chihiro said, "What kind of dog is she?"

"I don't know," Miles said.

"Is she Akita Inu?" Gina said.

"I don't know," Miles said.

"She's a Chow-chow mix?" Chihiro said, "Maybe?"

"Maybe a Shepherd mix?" Gina said.

"I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!" Miles said and he put his hands into the grass to push himself up. He turned over, sat up and glared at them. Pess cocked her head and made an inquisitive noise.

"Um…" Chihiro said.

"Yeah," Gina said, "We're supposed to be meeting someone."

They both turned and started to walk away.

Miles exhaled in a flooding relief. Pess licked his ear.

He arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early. It wouldn't do to keep someone like Madeline Tailor waiting. He couldn't refuse her invitation—it was hand written—and the perfume was a nice touch. Mister Von Karma had warned him about wasting time with the victims or accepting offers of thanks. But this was Madeline Tailor!

Even Mister Von Karma had nothing to say, when Miles told him about the invitation.

"It'll do you good to meet new people," Von Karma had said. Albeit rather dismissively.

"Well," a bluff male voice said, "If it isn't our favorite Prosecutor!"

Madeline's father was escorting her. Miles forced himself to smile, he wasn't sure how he felt about an escort. Then he cringed inwardly, did he have the wrong idea?

"Good evening, Miles Edgeworth," Madeline said, offering a gloved hand to Miles.

"Good evening, Madeline," Miles said.

"Daddy," she said, "We'll be off now, please don't wait up for me."

"All right, peanut," Mister Tailor said, "You don't let nothing happen to my little peanut, Edgeworth!"

Miles nodded emphatically and suddenly Mister Tailor was gone. Madeline wrapped her arm around his and smiled up at him.

"I'm sorry, darling," she said, "My father is a little possessive sometimes. Shall we be off?"

"Sure," Miles said. He was nervous as he walked out of the department store with Madeline perched on his arm like some exotic bird. They had to rush, and even still, they were stopped several times so that Madeline could greet her admirers.

They left out of a side entrance, where a black stretch Lincoln waited for them. Madeline all but shoved him inside as he tried to open the door for her. She shoved him across the seat as she followed in.

"Come on," she said emphatically, "Come on, come on."

The car started moving even before they'd settled, and both of them were busied adjusting their clothing and hair. When they were reasonably composed, Madeline yanked off her sunglasses and leaned toward him.

"So sorry about that, darling," Madeline said.

"It's quite all right, Miss Tailor," Miles said he sat up and placed his hands on his knees.

"Please, Miles, call me Maddy," she'd moved one of her gloved hands so that it rested near his own hand, she was leaning closer and closer toward him—as told by the increasing pressure on his thigh.

"Er… Maddy," he said. Miles offered another nervous smile.

"Miles," she said, "I'm so glad of this, I could never thank you enough for everything—"

Miles nodded, "Just doing my job—"

"Oh, Miles," she said and placed a hand on each of his cheeks and moved his head toward her, "So modest…"

"Eh… Maddy?"

Maddy answered him with a kiss. At first Miles accepted and moved along with her—then abruptly he pulled away and slid over to one side of the car—away from her.

"Miles! What was—"

Miles shook his head, still panting from his sudden panic.

"I'm sorry," he said as he regained his composure, "I didn't think this was a—um…"

"A date?" Madeline said.

"Er…" Miles said.

She slid toward him and he shoved himself against the wall of the limousine.

"What's wrong? Haven't you ever had a girlfriend before?"

"Girlfriend?"

Madeline was on top of him again, and Miles had nowhere to go.

"Miles, please just—" she said.

"Hold on!" Miles said and he sat up and glared at her, "It isn't right to just—um… Do this—What we're doing… When we barely know each other. What would your father say?"

Maddy sat back and blinked at him.

"If you'd like to spend a civilized evening together," Miles continued, "I would be quite amenable to that, however, this is certainly not civilized behavior and I refuse to be tangled up in it—I am a gentleman after all."

Maddy was still staring at him wide-eyed. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. Her eyes bored into him.

"I'm sorry Darling," Maddy said, "But I—"

Miles gave her a sidelong glance brow raised, but that was all he was willing to communicate.

Maddy composed herself and straightened her dress and her hair. She looked toward her window away from him and pulled out a compact.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Miles Edgeworth," she said and dabbed her nose, "It's just that—well I've known you for nearly two years. We really are quite old friends, aren't we darling?"

Miles didn't say anything.

"Never the less, dear, I can see that you're uncomfortable with… uh… physical affection—"

"I didn't know this was a date," Miles said quietly, "I thought… ….I just thought it was something else…"

"Darling, I've been enamored of you ever since we first met," Maddy said with her big blue eyes earnestly locked on his face, "Ever since you sat me down in the witness lobby and you told me to 'siddown an' answer the question, sweetheart!'"

"I never…" Miles said.

"You never asked me out is what it was, darling," she said, "I couldn't—I just couldn't let you go. Daddy said, 'let it go, peanut, he's probably already taken.' But I couldn't leave it at that. I thought about you all the time."

"Didn't you—" Miles said, remembering his second case that involved Maddy.

Maddy nodded, "Danny. It was so horrible, so hard to accept that Danny is dead. That trial—I didn't want any part of it. I was so frightened and all of the attention was just too much—but there you were again. My knight in shining armor," Miles was staring at her agape—still she showed no signs of stopping.

"I still remember the first time I came in to talk to you before the trial," Maddy waggled her finger at him, "Oh you again,' you said and then, "I'd appreciate it if you'd take off your sunglasses,' and then I knew—I just knew I'd be just fine. Because I had you to help me and carry me through. Then, the trial was over, and you were gone again. I told Daddy, 'Daddy, I'll just die if Miles doesn't ask me out—I'll just die!' and Daddy went asking around to find out if you were seeing someone else—and he found out that all you did was lawyer lawyer all day everyday and he said, 'Maddy, that boy will lawyer himself into an early grave!' and so I knew that if we didn't start dating each other we would both die! There is no way around it—WE WERE MEANT TO BE!"

"What? I don't—" Miles said, "Wait, I don't think that's a thing. I'm perfectly healthy anyway so don't worry about me. I don't think you're in any danger, either."

"Miles, broken hearts are real…" Maddy said.

"Hmm," Miles said, "I think you're more likely to die from histrionics."

Maddy was quiet for several moments and Miles started to relax. Then she looked at him directly, her large azure eyes were spellbinding and he found he couldn't look away.

"Miles Edgeworth," Maddy said, "If you don't want to date me, why'd you even bother showing up?"

"It was a very nice invitation," Miles said.

"I made it myself, darling," Maddy said.

"Well now," Miles said, "I'm impressed."

"So… Are you saying that you will never ever want to be my boyfriend?"

"I never said that—" Miles began.

"Stop wasting time darling!"

Miles didn't even flinch when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Miles sat with his back to the table while Larry droned on about some girl he was supposedly dating. Every now and then he held out the ice cream cone in his hand so that Pess could lick it. He frowned at his jeans. They were covered with grass stains, vanilla ice cream, and dirt—Miles leaned in closer—he really hoped that was dirt.

"Butz can you come over here and smell my knee?"

Larry stopped mid-sentence, "Huh?"

Miles only glared at him.

"Hey, Edgey, did you just ask me to smell your knee?"

Miles put his foot up on the seat so that his knee was in close proximity to Larry's face, "yeah."

"Um…" Larry said, "Why?"

"I can't tell if that's mud or dog shit."

"No way," Larry said, "You're trying to knee me in the face."

"Why would I—" Miles exhaled in frustration, "Fine, whatever…"

He put his leg back on the ground and glared at people walking in the park. He caught a glimpse of Gumshoe's trench coat and flinched. Fortunately, Gumshoe was hurrying away in the other direction. He followed the detective's little figure as he went deeper into the park eventually disappearing into foliage.

"Damn," Larry said behind him, "I think my heart just stopped."

"I'm sure it hasn't," Miles muttered as he offered the ice cream to Pess.

"My God she's hot," Larry said, "Heaven in a pantsuit…"

Miles chuckled and licked his ice cream cone. Then Pess stood and tugged at the leash.

"She's coming this way," Larry squealed like a fangirl.

Miles turned and he actually felt his heart stop—not for the same reason as Larry—but there was definitely a cold icy grip on his ticker. Larry stood up and offered her his hand.

"Hey girl," Larry said and Miles put his face in his hands and his ice cream cone fell in his lap.

"Edgeworth," Lana Skye said.

"Oh hey, you know my friend Edge—" Larry started.

"Afternoon Chief," Miles said, he sat up and Pess came to his rescue—lapping up ice cream and effectively blocking Chief from approaching any closer to him.

"Hey," Larry poked him in the back, "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Uh…" Miles was startled at Larry, "Chief, this is Larry Butz—"

"We're like best friends," Larry cut in. Miles shot him a warning glance.

"Butz, this is my boss, Lana Skye," Miles said. Lana nodded at the introduction, but she was smiling at Miles.

"I didn't know you had a dog Edgeworth," she said.

"A man ought to have friends he can rely on," Miles said and jerked his head at Larry.

Lana laughed and reached over to scratch Pess behind her ears.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said and locked eyes with Miles.

Miles swallowed, this had the potential to hit several levels of not good.

"Not at all," Larry said, "Why don't you sit down?"

Lana hesitated and then sat on Miles' other side, directly across from Larry.

"I'm glad you're taking the time to unwind, Miles," she said, "I was worried about you when you left."

Miles made a noise in his throat as his only acknowledgement.

"Hey, Edgey, did you have a bad day?" Larry said, "Is that why you came to meet your best bud at the park?"

"Sure," Miles said noncommittally. He crossed his arms refusing to look at either of them. Maybe they'd just go away. He could feel them moving behind him, their shadows breaking up and shifting the light.

Pess whimpered and lay her head in his lap.

"So, Larry is it?" Lana said.

"Yeah," Larry said.

"How do you know Miles?"

"We were kids together," Larry said, "I taught him everything he knows."

Lana laughed, "Oh really?"

"Sure," Larry said, "Edgeworth is such a lost cause—that's what everyone said. But I never gave up on him. And look at him now—"

"I have to go," Miles said and he stood abruptly and started to lead Pess away.

As he walked he wondered if Larry would start a relationship with his boss—this might work out to his advantage. Miles frowned at his thoughts—ever since Vegas, Chief seemed… Well… Sort of desperate. But Larry? Really?

Miles stuck his hands in his pockets and frowned at his feet. Larry always had more girlfriends than he did—of course Chief would fall for someone like Larry. Chief only kissed you because she was lonely… and desperate… Franziska was probably the only one that liked him like that—but that was weird… Not to mention wrong on so many levels… Well… There was that Wendy person, who'd sent flowers last month. Miles smiled—he could expect a new arrangement in the next few days. Wendy was punctual. Wendy seemed to know what he liked.

He only wished he could remember who that was…

"You don't need a girlfriend," he said under his breath. After a year with Maddy, it was nice to just do whatever he wanted.

"Miles!" Miles turned in surprise to see Lana jogging toward him. Then he frowned Larry was coming too.

"Hey Edgey!"

Miles stopped walking.

"Miles Edgeworth," Lana said, "Why'd you run off?"

"I wasn't…" He said.

"Dude," Larry said, "You just took off. Are you mad, bro?"

"I'm not," Miles said—not really sure what Larry was calling him.

"Larry," Lana said, "Thanks for helping me, but I need to speak with Miles alone now."

"Oh," Larry said and he glanced skeptically at Miles, "Just for a little bit?"

"Just a little bit," Lana said.

Larry smacked Miles on his shoulder and pointed at him like Wright making an objection in court. "Just be cool, man. Be easy."

Miles stared at Larry as he walked back toward the ice cream stand, "Right."

Lana was standing in front of him now; they were nearly toe-to-toe. She was laughing. Miles frowned—was she laughing at him?

"Oh, that guy," Lana said, "Do you really know each other?"

Miles nodded solemnly, "He works at the ice cream stand."

"Oh," Lana said.

"Do you want to walk?"

"Sure," Lana fell into step with him.

"So you just left work?" Miles asked.

"Yes," Lana said, "I had to swing by the Police Department, and I just needed a little fresh air."

Miles nodded.

"I just needed to relax a bit."

Miles nodded.

"Obviously you had the same idea," Lana said, "He really is a beautiful dog; and very well behaved."

Miles nodded.

"You know the only other time I've seen you so casually dressed was at the baseball game," Lana said.

Miles paused and looked at her, "She."

"What?"

"My dog, she's a female," Miles said.

"Oh," Lana said slightly perplexed. They continued walking in silence for several minutes. Miles was very tense and the hand gripping Pess's leash was starting to ache with how tightly he was squeezing his fist.

"So," Miles said and he put his hands in his pockets, "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh I don't know," Lana said, "I was just trying to get rid of that guy."

"Butz?"

"Yeah," she said, "So… I can't stop thinking about you…"

They both stopped and Lana moved to stand in front of him. Miles had that same feeling in his chest as when she first approached them. His breathing became shallow as he looked down at her.

"Why?" He wanted to kick himself after the word escaped his lips.

"Miles, tell me you didn't feel anything when we—"

Miles gasped a little and raised a hand to run through his hair, "In Las Vegas? I thought we weren't going to—"

"Miles, I can't—" she moved in closer to him, "stop thinking about you. Seeing you every day isn't very—"

"It's only been two days…" Miles said—not quite catching her drift.

Lana moved in closer still—Miles all but jumped back to put space between them.

"You should keep back," he said, "I am VERY dirty right now."

"Oh," Lana said and he could see her gaze sliding over his figure. Miles frowned, he was a little sweaty from playing in the park; he was covered in grass, ice cream, and dirt—and quite possibly dog shit—this was just too embarrassing.

"You naughty boy," Lana said, teasing him coquettishly, "You're just covered in filth."

Lana leaned toward him again and Miles' nervousness increased—Pess growled at Lana. She must've sensed his discomfort and interjected to protect him. Miles yanked on the leash and backed away.

Lana crossed her arms and made a face like something smelled bad—Miles was certain it was him—and she said, "I see."

"Chief, I'm sorry," Miles said and he pulled on Pess' collar, "I don't know what's gotten into her."

Lana relaxed and then she chuckled at him, "Oh, all right. I have to get going anyway. Would it be okay if I called you some time?"

Miles frowned at her, "Chief you call me all the time."

She made a frustrated noise and turned to walk away, "Good bye, Mister Edgeworth."

"Bye Chief," Miles said and his frown deepened. She's probably going to see Larry…

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

In the first flashback Miles is 13 or 14. Apparently he doesn't have "soft hands".

Second flash back is just over a year ago—his first date with Maddy. He's 23. If you've been wondering about Maddy's speech pattern, she has a transatlantic accent. If you're not into older movies, think Rarity from MLP.

LOL… Miles is a little jealous of Larry. "Are you mad bro?"—I couldn't help myself.

UPDATED 9JUL2015 – Minor corrections.