A/N: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth do not belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot and incidental characters, both Union and Confederate soldiers, are mine. Lt. General James Longstreet, as he was at this point in time, is real but being used fictiously.

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Phoenix has been thinking about Miles quite a bit lately and knows that he must see him... and soon before the ever turning wheels of Fortune and War make this impossible...

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The third story in my Civil War NaruMitsu series! It's set six days before the battle of Seven Pines [May 31-June 1, 1862].

Link to the site for the overview of the battle of Seven Pines I consulted in my profile.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Thanks to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

Thank you to my beta reader, Pearls1990, for her AWESOME beta reading! Much appreciated! :)

Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, the title, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Comments are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed.

Rated Teen, Historical/Drama/Romance, Phoenix x Edgeworth, male x male relationships

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May 25, 1862
Outside Henrico County, Virginia
Camp of the Army of Northern Virginia
2 P.M.

Today is the day. I must see him. Today. I can't put it off any longer... I looked at the clear blue sky through the slits in the flaps of my tent which served as my quarters, my left hand clenching into a fist while my right tightened on the top of the wooden chair in front of my desk, my eyes narrowing. We'll be moving out in a few days. I can't let this chance to see him again before we do pass by; we might never get another opportunity before...

He'd been on my mind and in my thoughts more often than not lately and I couldn't help but wonder how he was doing. There was movement of the Union lines and I knew very well that that meant the Federals were on the move and headed in this direction. If I didn't see him soon, it would be too late and God only knew when the next chance for us to meet would be... if we were lucky enough to survive what was coming.

My mind made up, I clenched my jaw and pivoted on my heel, pushed aside the flaps and walked quickly out, turning left and heading down the dirt path that lead to the stables where the horses were kept. I was so intent on reaching my destination and my thoughts filled with him that I didn't notice I had an audience approaching me from the left.

"Sir?!" The panicked voice of my aide-de-camp, Major Shaw, rang out as I dashed down the path, wearing my new uniform and trying to avoid being tripped up by the ceremonial sword that hung in its scabbard by my side. "Where are you going? SIR!"

I ignored his increasingly strident yells and, in due course, arrived at the corral where the horses were being kept and looked after. Sergeant Wilkes, the soldier who was in charge, and another soldier who was standing near him both looked up at me rather curiously when I came rushing toward him, yelling out orders in between efforts to catch my breath to have them saddle up my horse since I was going to the Union line a few miles distant.

Predictably, they had the same reaction that Major Shaw did and protested vigorously against such a mad plan but I would not be dissuaded. I made it perfectly clear that, if they didn't saddle up my damned horse, I'd do it myself and then there would be hell to pay if the Commanding General found out.

Exchanging looks with a pair of disgusted snorts and a few choice words muttered under their breaths, one of the men stalked off to do as he had been ordered and saddled up my chestnut bay, Samson. He led him out to me and handed the reins to me without another word but there was plenty that he said with his eyes: why the hell are you so worked up about a goddamned Yankee?!

I shook my head as I tossed the reins over Samson's neck, grabbing the pommel of the saddle and, hoisting myself up, I mounted, taking the ends in my gloved left. Myaide-de-camp looked in disbelief at me.

"You're truly serious about this aren't you, Sir?" he said, his eyes wide with disbelief and the tone in his voice reflected that.

I looked at him. "I do believe that I had already made that intent perfectly clear, Major," I replied evenly and he at least had the grace to blush. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'll be on my way."

I pulled the reins to the right and gently nudged Samson's sides and he started turning. Major Shaw stood there for a moment before he turned to Sergeant Wilkes and growled, "Saddle up my damned horse, too, Sergeant."

He looked at him in disbelief and even my eyebrow raised.

"Sir?"

I saw Major Shaw give him the gimlet eye. "I said: Saddle up my damned horse, too, Sergeant." He gave me a disgusted look. "If this damned fool's so hell bent on getting himself shot by a Yankee picket line, then I'd better go with him so I can protect him from his own stupidity."

Sergeant Wilkes snorted but turned to do as he was asked all the while muttering something about these "damned thrice fools from Virginia."

"And make damned sure you bring a white flag too!" he hollered at the Sergeant's stiff, retreating back. The Sergeant lifted his hand in acknowledgement that he had heard him and disappeared into the rough hewn building.

We both were silent for some time before he spoke. The wind whistling through the trees was the only sound that was heard and it sounded deafening to me as did the noise of the rustling leaves.

"I don't understand, Sir. Why are you so hellbent on getting to this Yankee?" he asked, his voice thick with disapproval, his green eyes snapping sparks as he leaned against the tall oak that stood behind where he was standing, his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at me. "And what bothers me even more, other than the fact that he's our enemy, is that you were ready to go charging off to the Yankee picket line without a second thought or, I might add, a lick of common sense!"

Both Samson and I remained motionless while he spoke his piece, letting his displeasure roll off of me like water off a duck's back. I could have had him cashiered had I a desire to report him for this insubordination but I would not do that and he knew it. Damn his impudent hide.

"In case you haven't noticed, Sir," he went on, "we're fighting a War here! He's the enemy, the enemy to our way of life and the enemy of everything that the Confederacy stands for! Why the blue blazes are you so intent on getting yourself killed over one damned Yankee?!"

I remained silent for some time before my head swiveled over to look at him, my blue eyes shining though serious. I heard him gasp.

"It's very simple, Major," I said softly, my eyes gazing off into the distance. "I love him." I looked squarely at him, his eyes wide with shocked surprise, the reins wrapped around my left hand. "That's all."

Silence reigned between us for some time, Major Shaw staring at me in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing but no words emerged. He stood there for awhile in gapmouthed amazement and was about to speak when he was interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Wilkes, leading the Major's sorrel horse, Nemo, carrying both our regiment's battle flag and the white flag of truce.

Without a word but with plenty of evil looks, he handed both to Major Shaw with ill concealed grace that wasn't lost on either of us, he rolled his eyes and took them, and the reins before mounting up, pulling the reins back short when Nemo danced a little in place after he had settled himself in his saddle.

"Begging your pardon, Sir," Sergeant Wilkes said stiffly, his slate grey eyes snapping sparks as he turned to glower at me after he was finished glaring at Major Shaw, "but I think you're a damned fool for racing off toward the Yankee line and if you get your foolish self shot, what the hell am I going to tell the Commanding General? He'll have my hide if something happens to you!"

I couldn't repress a smile at that and that only increased his consternation, the corners of my mouth twitching with amusement. I knew the Commanding General held me in high esteem as I did him, as well; he, myself and Colonel Edgeworth had all attended the same university in Virginia and had become close friends, like brothers. It hurt him to fight former friends but he, as well as I, knew our duty lay in fighting for Virginia and the Confederacy. Loyal sons of Virginia, we would do our duty as we both knew that he would do his.

I considered a moment. "Tell him that I went to see a former friend of both ours and tell him-" I stopped for a moment, looking at Major Shaw with a twinkle in my eye while he snorted in disgust-"that I don't have a lick of sense and that I was told that by two fine gentlemen. That way, if I do manage to get my damned self shot, at least he won't blame either of you. He knows me very well and has often commented on that same lack on more than one occasion."

Both the good Sergeant and Major snorted at that comment but they both knew that I spoke the truth. The Commanding General, James "Old Pete" Longstreet, had commented on that same lack of anything resembling common sense many a time before, and after, First Manassas. It had occurred so frequently since that it was a standing joke in the Army of Northern Virginia.

I had admitted, somewhat ruefully, that I did indeed lack that all too important lick of common sense and General Longstreet had just smiled. I couldn't help but wonder if that was because I amused him or he found me such a fool that he could dismiss my antics with a smile. Although opinion was sharply divided on the subject, most would have said that it was because I amused him since I was such a damned fool.

At any rate, Sgt. Wilkes had also brought my Colt pistol and holster and I leaned down and took them from him, thanking him before I strapped on the holster and placed the gun inside, snapping it shut. Sgt. Wilkes saluted me and I returned the salute before stalking off, once again muttering something about those "damned fools from Virginia."

"I hope to God you know what you're doing," Major Shaw groused sourly after he had disappeared form sight, snapping his own holster into place. "Not only are we going into enemy territory, we're also going on some half assed fool's errand that I hope to heaven doesn't end up with either you or me getting shot."

"We're going in under flag of truce," I explained patiently, looking off into the distance for a moment. "We won't get shot, Major, trust me on this."

He sighed. "You're a damned fool you know that right, Sir?" The good Major's voice sounded resigned as if he were certain I was leading him to certain death.

I chuckled as I gently nudged Samson's sides and, with a toss of his proud head, began to trot over to the clearing, Major Shaw following a few moments later until both horses were trotting fast over the landscape. "So I've been told, Major. So I've been told."

His face fell. I couldn't help but laugh as he turned in his saddle to glare at me, his mouth twisted into a snarling grimace.

"I was only joking, Major," I said hastily, "and I do wish that you would relax. We're not going to get shot, as I've said before; we're under flag of truce and will not be fired upon." I looked at him. "If anything, the fact that you're acting like you're expecting to get shot might very well give some nervous Union soldier the idea to shoot us so I would really appreciate it if you would just relax a little." I tilted my head slightly to the right. "You didn't have to come with me, you know; I could very well have gone alone."

He gave another disgusted snort. "And leave you in the hands of these damned Yankees?! Don't be absurd! Besides, they'd probably see you charging in without the flag of truce and shoot you on sight and then where would you be?" He looked at me squarely. "You need someone to look out for you, Sir; you're too headstrong for your own good, or anyone else's, really. Hell, for all I know you'd go riding in at the devil's own pace and have someone shoot you as you're going in and then they'll ask questions of your dead body afterward!"

I chuckled again, giving him a courtly bow from the saddle. "I think you're absolutely right, Major." I looked at the canopy of leaves that were over top of our heads as we trotted through the forest and nearing the trail that led down into the valley. "And I thank you for accompanying me."

His mouth twitched at the corners and I could tell that he was pleased. "You're welcome, Sir. It is my honor to do so and to serve under you even if I think you're a damned fool."

I smiled at him and then nudged Samson once again who, with a snort, took off at a fast run, Nemo doing the same. I could never understand why Major Shaw had called his horse "Nemo" which, in Latin, means "nobody." When I had asked, he just shook his head, smiled and refused to comment further; although my curiosity was eating me alive, I left him be after that since it appeared that he didn't wish to speak of it. We took off across the grass lined plain and down the gently sloping hills that led to the valley below... and the Union picket line.

I'm coming, Miles, I thought, leaning over Samson's neck as we cleared the hills and raced over the flat ground, Nemo and the major pounding close behind with the streaming crack of both the flags in the wind, I'm coming. Please, God, be there!