June 17, 10:30 AM
Shipshape Aquarium - Entrance

The aquarium was loud and busy with people, largely excited children and harried parents. The sea birds were joining in the chorus with piercing calls. He could feel the sun beating down on the back of his neck, sweat pricking under his cravat.

Wright and company were gathered in a group near the entrance. None of them had noticed him yet. It was the full complement of Wright's little family of teenagers (both formally and informally adopted) - plus Justice, who looked like he wished he could pretend he didn't know these people, and the elder Fey, who had no such compunctions.

How, he wondered, did Wright make friends so easily and in such great numbers?

A bird screeched overhead, and he stiffened. That was no gull's cry.

"Simon," he said, turning. "You surprise me."

"I could say the same for you," said Simon, holding up his wrist for Taka to land.

"You lost this case, from memory," said Edgeworth.

Simon snorted. "Aren't you always saying that it doesn't matter whether you win or lose, so long as the truth is discovered?"

He wondered if Simon realised just who had taught Miles that difficult lesson.

"I was satisfied with the evidence presented," Simon continued. "And it was my first experience with your Mr Wright's trademark turnabout."

Miles could feel his cheeks heating up and coughed to hide it.

"And young Ms Cykes was quite persuasive when she invited me."

Miles's own invitation had been at Trucy Wright's behest. A group outing to celebrate it being a year since her father regained his badge. A surprise outing, although it seemed he'd missed the surprise part of it.

Taka had ensured that the group had noticed them now, and Miles steeled himself to move forward and greet them.

"Come on," said Cykes. "The show starts in less than an hour and I want to get seats."

"I thought Sasha was reserving some for us," said Wright.

"You can't trust the people who come to pirate shows," said Cykes darkly.

"Unfortunately," said Miles, making a quick decision. "I cannot join you. I just came to give my congratulations."

"But you only just got here," Trucy pointed out.

"I have a headache," he lied, and caught Justice's narrowed eyes. "And lots of work to do," he continued quickly, which was not a lie but only gained him Cykes's suspicion. Why couldn't Wright have gathered a team of normal apprentices with no special powers? "I'm very sorry," he offered.

"You have to make it up to me," said Trucy. "And Daddy, of course."

"Then, thank you for coming by," said Wright.

Cykes whispered something in Wright's ear, and he hung back until the group had streamed past him. Edgeworth had just enough time to contemplate his escape before Wright was standing in front of him.

"You're lonely," said Wright, "so you choose to be alone rather than with friends?"

One friend, Miles thought, plus a colleague. He supposed he had Cykes to thank for that piece of insight.

"Wright," said Miles, "have you ever heard of introversion?"

"I think Athena's introduction to analytical psychology book mentioned it."

"It means that while people like you find spending time with large crowds of people invigorating, people like me find them exhausting. I do not have the energy for them today."

Wright's expression softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "You don't get a lot of days off. Don't feel obligated to spend them with us."

"I don't," he said, and winced inside when Wright's face fell. "Although I was happy to be invited. Another time, perhaps."

"The venue wasn't my choice either," Wright pointed out. "Although... I'm happy to see them so happy."

"Congratulations on making it through a year," he said drily.

"I hope that year has lived up to your expectations."

He nodded. "Wright," he blurted out. "We could do dinner. Tomorrow. At my place. If you wanted."

Wright's eyes widened. "All of us?" he asked cautiously. "Or just me?"

"Just you," he said, because if he was going to be selfish he may as well go the whole way. "And Trucy," he added, half out of cowardice and half out of guilt.

"Trucy is performing tomorrow night," said Wright. "But... we could do Monday night?"

"Monday night," he said. "I'll put it in my calendar."

--

June 19, 7:30 PM
Miles Edgeworth's House

In the chaos that followed the escape of a key witness from the courtroom just after Apollo Justice had thrown the light of suspicion on them, he almost forgot about dinner. He only remembered when Wright texted him at 5:00 to ask what time they should meet.

He told them to bring dessert and meet him at his house at 7:00, and immediately went home to get the meal in the oven.

And now he had the two Wrights in his home and a meal on the table.

"I heard about the Johnson Trial," Phoenix began. Of course he had. Apollo Justice had been on the defence.

"No!" said Trucy. "No talking about work. This is a law-free-zone."

Miles stared at her blankly. Across the table, her father was giving her a similar expression.

"That's all you and Athena and Polly talk about," continued Trucy. "I'm not letting you do that with Mr Edgeworth too."

"Fine," said Phoenix. "But we're not allowed to talk about magic either."

Trucy pouted. "But I wanted to tell you about my new trick."

"You can tell me tomorrow," he said. "Tonight we're going to... talk about things. That aren't work."

There followed an awkward silence while they ate, and Miles desperately tried to come up with anything to talk about that wasn't the country's struggling law system.

"I, er, got an email from Larry the other day," Phoenix offered. "He has a new girlfriend. And a new job."

Even Trucy looked faintly pained at that poor effort. "How is your sister, Mr Edgeworth?"

"Fine." Trucy stared at him pointedly until he was forced to elaborate. "She's still in Germany, being the terror of the justice system. She wants me to move back there to back her up."

"But you're not going to, right?" demanded Trucy.

"No," he said, and the tension at the table released. He cleared the plates from the table with Trucy's help and fetched the dessert from the counter. They'd brought some kind of delicate layer cake that he sliced and placed carefully in the middle of dessert plates.

"Your plates are so nice," said Trucy. "Our plates are always very plain and boring."

"That's because you like to practice tablecloth tricks on the dinner table," said Phoenix.

Trucy giggled, and Miles found himself smiling in spite of himself. "So Trucy, you're... in your last year of high school now?"

She nodded. "I've already got my college applications in."

"Are you going to study law?"

"No, I've applied to business school. Somebody in the family needs money skills, and then I'll be able to turn Wright Anything into a proper talent agency, with clients and connections and talents that aren't defence attorneys."

He glanced at Phoenix, who shrugged, equally baffled.

"Um," said Trucy. "Which reminds me that I do have homework to do tonight, so we can't stay too late."

Phoenix glanced at his watch and winced. "We may have to take a taxi."

"I can drive you home," said Miles. "It's no trouble."

"In your car?" asked Trucy, eyes sparkling. "Do you have a sports car like Prosecutor Gavin?"

He took a moment to hope that Gavin would have more luck with his car than Miles had. "Not anymore."

--

June 19, 9:30 PM
Phoenix Wright's Apartment

"You should come in," said Wright, bending back into the car. "I'll make tea."

It's on the tip of his tongue to refuse, but he reconsiders. What else is he going to do that evening but wait for the phone to ring? He follows Wright up the stairs to his apartment.

Wright sat him on the couch while he put the kettle on. He hadn't been to Wright's apartment before, but it seemed familiar from numerous visits to the Wright Anything Agency. There had to be order in the chaos somewhere, but it wasn't instantly recognisable. The bookshelf was a jumble of magic and law texts, there were hats, stuffed toys and other props stuffed into any empty space.

"Thank you for still having us over for dinner, I know you had a busy day," said Wright.

He shrugged. "The advantage of being Chief Prosecutor is that I can delegate. They're under orders to call me if anything changes."

Wright twisted his mug around in his hands. "I thought it might have brought up unpleasant memories."

Miles pressed his fingers into his temple. "No more so than any other murder trial. How is Mr Justice coping?"

"He's annoyed," said Wright drily. "Athena told me he yelled at Gavin for ten solid minutes."

Gavin had said nothing of that, but he supposed that wasn't unexpected. "The police are doing everything they can to find him."

"I can hear you taking about work, you know," Trucy called.

"And I can hear you not doing homework," Wright called back.

"It must be hard when so many people she knows are lawyers," said Miles.

"I think she misses the... the piano bar period more than she wants to admit to me. Even though objectively it wasn't a happy time, it was just us for a lot of it. Now there's all these people around all the time."

"I don't think she minds that as much as you think," said Miles carefully. "I think she just feels left out."

Wright yawned, then rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Perhaps I should see if Pearls wants to spend more time here. Or suggest she brings friends over from school more often."

In his jacket pocket, Miles's phone started humming the Steel Samurai theme. Wright groaned. "Why does everybody I know have that song as their ringtone?"

Miles checked the caller ID. "It's Gumshoe," he said. "I need to take this."

"Say hi for me," said Wright, hiding another yawn behind his hand.

He took the call into the kitchen, accepting Gumshoe's apologies for the late call, reassuring him that he'd said to call him as soon as their was news, and congratulating them on the fast recapture of the suspect. Gumshoe passed the phone on to Gavin, and he went through the same dance again.

Once that was done, Gavin wanted to discuss his approach for the trial the next morning.

Miles returned, phone battery severely depleted, to find Wright had given in to sleep, head bent back on the couch and mouth slightly open. He could probably wake him with a well-placed OBJECTION, but that would also wake Trucy.

He hesitated for several long moments before dropping a firm hand on Wright's shoulder and squeezing.

Wright's eyes flickered open. "Miles," he murmured. Miles felt his heart skip a beat. "What is it?"

"I'm going home," he said, pulling back and straightening with dignity. "You should go to bed."

"Wha? Where am I?" said Wright, waking up more. "The couch?"

"You're at home. I assume you have a bedroom here somewhere," said Miles. "I suggest you use it."

He located his coat and other peripherals and marched to the door. "Good night, Wright."

Miles Edgeworth was definitely not having a hysterical breakdown because somebody he cared about called him by his first name. This wasn't a manga.

He got home to a tidy house that felt very empty.

--

One Week Later
June 26, 10:00 AM
Prosecutor's Office

"You have a call from Mr Wright," said Miles's assistant, tone carefully neutral. "He says it's important."

"Put it through," he said. When the call transferred, he answered with a short, "Wright?".

"Good morning, Chief Prosecutor," said Wright cheerfully. "Are you familiar with the Gilbert Lyre case?"

Miles pulled up the file on his computer. Murder, arrest of Gilbert T. Lyre, trial scheduled to begin the next day. "Yes, of course."

"We had a visitor at the Agency this morning. Rilla Lyre, the accused's sister. She wanted me to take the case. She said her brother was innocent."

"You know you don't need to let me know every time you pick a client, don't you, Wright?"

"She was hiding something. I could see it instantly. And Athena said her emotions were all over the place, but the strongest were excitement and anticipation."

"You know, Wright, some of us need actual evidence to know when a person is lying."

"And that's why I want to look at the prosecution's case."

Miles raised his eyebrows.

"I think it's an attempt to frame someone else," said Phoenix. "By someone who knows my reputation--"

"For bluffing in court?" asked Miles.

"For using small contradictions to open potential new avenues for investigation," said Wright primly.

"Are you taking the case?"

"Of course not. Although it would probably have been better if she thought I was. Now she'll just find someone else."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said we didn't have the time to take her case right now. Which was only partially a lie. I'm only halfway through that stack of case reviews you gave me."

Miles sighed. "We can look at the evidence on MASON together if you'll sign an agreement to not take the case. I'll even try to wrangle a consultant's fee for you."

"Thanks, Edgeworth. I'll see you in about half an hour."

Wright arrived at his office within a reasonable deviation from that estimate. When Wright had been dressing casually there had always been that thrum of tension inside him. But now, in his blue suit, he seemed relaxed and happy.

Miles pulled up the case data on MASON and let Wright at it. He had a pile of paperwork to sign off on and his assistant had started giving him wounded eyes every time they passed.

"Hmm," said Wright, after a while.

"Did you find something?"

"It's this photograph. I think it's been faked."

"Wright. That's the decisive evidence the entire prosecution's case hangs on."

"And if you go to court with it the defence will find out who faked it and turn them into a suspect. You need to tell the police to be less credulous. Everyone has Photoshop these days." He tapped one of the profiles. "Deedna Seet hates Gilbert Lyre and I'd guess she's lying because she wants him to go down for it. That photograph you found is a fake, and the murder weapon could just as easily incriminate Seet without it."

"But you believe Seet is innocent."

"I don't know," he said. "But if Athena is right about Miss Lyre, I doubt Seet did it. I think you've caught the right person."

"So what do you advise?"

"Delay," said Wright. "Find new evidence, and don't bring it to trial until you're sure you can prove it."

"We can only hold Lyre for two more days," Miles protested.

"Aren't you the one who's always reminding me about evidence? If you can't prove he did it, you have no right to keep him locked up."

"Ugh," said Miles.

"Who is assigned to the prosecution?"

Miles winced. "Payne. The younger one, from memory."

Wright rubbed his temples. "I might take it if you were the prosecutor, but..."

Miles took a moment to mourn the partnership his promotion had ended. "I could have Gavin assigned to the case. Your improbably named associate could take the defence."

Wright's expression froze at the mention of Gavin, then melted into a wry smile. "I think Klavier is about as improbably named as Mr Justice."

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow and waited.

"It's a trap, Miles. I'm not going to fall into it - and I'm not letting Apollo or Athena do it either."

"And if the Lyres get another Kristoph Gavin instead?"

Wright winced and fell silent. He looked at his mug, knuckles turning white with tension. "Well," he said slowly. "I guess we'll just have to hope that doesn't happen." He tapped the desk. "Have Blackquill do it. He has enough experience with criminals that he should be able to avoid any traps." He paused. "International spies excluded."

"And the defence?"

"That is up to Ms Lyre, I imagine. I can't make your job too easy, Mr Chief Prosecutor. I've been wrong before."

"Edgeworth," said Miles.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If she couldn't get you, she'd go to my father's firm. Shields just wants to give anyone a fair trial, guilty or not."

"Oh, you mean Lyre," said Wright. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I wish I could have known your father. As an adult, I mean."

Miles felt like he knew his father better through news articles and Raymond Shields than his own memory. His father had been kind, he felt. Honest. Driven, passionate about the law.

He probably would have liked Phoenix. He would probably like Phoenix more than he liked Miles, now. "I wish we both could," he said.

Wright leant back on his chair and regarded him thoughtfully.

"You know, bluffing is not the only thing you're known for," Miles pointed out

"Oh?" said Wright, sufficiently distracted to serve Miles's purpose.

"You believe in your clients until the bitter end. Lyre is counting on that."

"She's making the same mistake you always do," said Wright. "She's confusing naiveté and honesty."

"I don't think you're naive. I just think you let your emotions get in the way of logic."

"I use my instincts to tell me when it's time to dig deeper for the truth," Wright corrected. "You know, you always accuse me of never learning, and yet I'm the one who always turns out to be right. Why do you think that is?"

"Losing isn't shameful as long as the truth is found."

"In this particular case, I'm not afraid of losing. I'm afraid of winning."

He nodded. "Thanks for coming in. I'll ask the police to re-evaluate the evidence they've found."

"Not taking my word for it?" he asked, grinning as he got to his feet.

"It's always best to verify tips from third parties."

Wright picked up his jacket and turned towards the door.

"Listen, Wright. Would you... Did you want to have dinner again? Thursday night?"

"With Trucy?" asked Wright, turning back.

"I thought, perhaps just us..." he said hesitantly. "But if you want to--"

"No, just us is fine," said Wright. "I'd like that."

--

June 22, 6:30 PM
Hanabi Japanese Cuisine

"I see you got a conviction in the Lyre case," said Wright, over a platter of exquisitely presented sashimi.

Miles nodded. "Thanks to you, we managed to pull together a good case, even if the defence did manage to poke holes in some of it. But I am concerned that it was even necessary. If we are now at the point that the public is taking advantage of corruption in the legal system--"

Wright held up a hand. "I'm going to tell you a secret."

Miles raised his eyebrows. He felt his heart jump into overdrive and struggled to control his expression.

"The Dark Age of the Law is a lie."

He somehow managed not to drop his chopsticks and carefully put them down on the chopstick rest. "I beg your pardon?"

"The only thing that changed after Blackquill's conviction was the public's faith in the law. The courts were just as full of evidence suppressal and murderers before that." Wright shrugged. "Just think about everything that happened before that. Redd White. De Killer. Von Karma. Gant..."

"...me."

Wright's eyes met his steadily. "You, your mentor, your sister... The Dark Age of the Law didn't start with the Gramarye trial. It was there all along."

"So you think we haven't changed anything?"

He shook his head. "I'm telling you the tide is finally starting to turn in our favour. You prevented a case from going to trial with fake evidence. Congratulations."

Wright was, well, right. It might have been naive to believe that re-establishing Wright's integrity and proving Blackquill's innocence would restore the public's trust in the law, but... things were moving in the right direction now.

Miles looked away. "All this time, I've been chasing after you. Your idealism. Your belief in the truth. And now you're calling me an optimist."

Wright's hand landed on his. "It's not enough. If we're going to end the Dark Age of the Law we need to get the Jurist System passed."

He hissed, frustrated. "I'm working on it. It's not just up to me."

"I know." Wright took a sip of tea and shook his head. "It's not your fault."

He wanted to say, you became a lawyer to save me and you did, but when I tried to do the same for you you wouldn't let me.

He wanted to say, I think I'm I love with you but it's never the right time to tell you.

That distant fear that it was too late, that whatever Phoenix had felt at 22 that made him decide to save Miles had shrivelled up and blown away over the next decade.

"It's my turn to tell you a secret," said Miles, then stopped. His throat felt choked, and the words wouldn't come.

"Would you like me to guess?" prompted Phoenix.

"No," he said. "I... I don't want to be friends." Before Phoenix could even react, he corrected himself. "I don't want to be just friends."

"Thank you for the heart attack," muttered Phoenix. "You're saying you want this to be a date?"

He nodded.

"Good," said Wright.

They stared at each other. Miles was relieved that Wright seemed just as tongue-tied as he was.

"Have you, um, dated often?" asked Wright.

He turned his head away, embarrassed. "I've been very busy, and I travel a lot," he deflected.

"And I have a seventeen year old," said Wright. "We'll figure it out." Wright took another piece of the sashimi sitting neglected between them and smiled. "Of course, you do realise if we do this we won't be able to face each other in court anymore."

Miles considered this. "Wright. You realise as chief prosecutor I'm not likely to be doing that anyway?"

"You realise if we do this you'll have to start calling me by my first name."

He swallowed. "If you like. Phoenix."

Wright laughed. "You sound so uncomfortable. Maybe we can work up to it."

"Phoenix," he tried again. "Do you wish... Were you hoping this would happen sooner?"

Wright looked taken aback. "You mean... this this." He gestured between the two of them.

Miles nodded.

Wright tapped his finger on the table. "I think it would have meant Kristoph Gavin ruined two careers instead of one." He shrugged. "I'm not the same person I was nine years ago."

"Neither of us are," said Miles. It had taken a long time before he could stomach the thought of Phoenix Wright without feeling knotted up with guilt and despair. But here and now...

"I wasn't happy back then," said Phoenix. "But I'm happy now, and I'm happier now that I'm here, with you. So I think that's enough."

"It is," he said. "It is."