Chapter Text
It hadn’t, in hindsight, been the best plan.
That being said, it had started out promisingly enough. After all, the Prosecutors’ Office building was mostly deserted for refurbishment. Most of the staff members had been treated to an extra-long Christmas break to accommodate for the paint fumes and ripped up carpets. Most of the staff, that is, apart from Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth. Potentially hallucinogenic or carcinogenic fumes and dust weren’t nearly enough to keep him away from his treasured office.
Phoenix presumed as much, any way. What little he could remember of the office was mostly a haze of deep pink wallpaper and dark wood. Heavy books had lined what parts of the walls weren’t pink. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place that he would rush back for…or even walk leisurely towards.
However, he had found himself wandering down the plastic-wrapped corridors towards that very office. His feet felt numb. The back of his head kept chanting, just do it. You’ve got to go talk to him. Don’t chicken out. Just keep going.
Stupid voice. He rounded the bend and took a deep breath. Edgeworth’s door was right there. The polished nameplate was even shinier than the last time he’d seen it. Obviously. They had to add the new title, after all. Chief Prosecutor. No big surprise there.
Phoenix briefly mused over what it would be like to be a Chief Defence Attorney. Was that even a thing? It was pretty sweet to have his own firm, yes, but it would be nice to have a shiny nameplate on the door too. After all, names did get stuck to his door, yes, but they were usually specific demands for money.
He took another deep breath to keep the first one company. It did nothing for his courage, but his lungs seemed happy. Maybe Edgeworth wasn’t in?
The soft shuffling of books being put back onto a shelf begged to differ. Phoenix glanced out the nearby window. Was that the time? Look how dark it was getting! He should really be heading back to Trucy…
…except that she, Apollo and Athena were all out for the night. Pizza, movies, and a trip to the late-night circus. He had only been excused from the trip because he’d promised Trucy that he would go and speak to Edgeworth.
“You need to, daddy!” She’d insisted. “He’s your friend! You were so sad when you had to leave him in Europe. You should go and catch up with him! Make him hang out with you. Bring him over too, if you can!”
He’d smiled and laughed it off, but she’d been consistent. “Come on, daddy. You know I’m right.”
Of course you are, he’d conceded. I’ll go soon.
And this, apparently, was soon.
Damn it.
He raised one hand to knock, thought the better of it, and lowered it again. Maybe this was the kind of thing he could just put into a letter? Edgeworth would like that. He liked letters and lettersets and that kind of stuff. He could just imagine him reclining at his desk, half-moon glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he perused (he would never just read) Phoenix's letter-to-be. Could almost see the faint amusement on his pale face, the hint of a smirk on his thin lips...
Ok, maybe letters weren't good.
He threw out his hand and hammered on the door before he could stop himself. DOOM DOOM DOOM. He froze.
"Oops."
The hallway silently agreed. There was a stony silence from the other man behind the door, then the unmistakable sound of Edgeworth clearing his throat. A stern voice broke Phoenix's mortified quiet. "Yes, can I help you?"
"H-hi, Edgeworth? It's me, Phoenix." He cursed himself mentally. Why the hell was he stuttering? He'd known the guy for nearly twenty years!
Another pause. "Wright? What is it?"
There were more sounds and the door eased open. Miles Edgeworth's frosty complexion peered out at Phoenix, who immediately felt underdressed. "I did not expect to see anyone here."
"Yeah, I figured. Everyone's home for the holidays and such, right?" He grinned and tried to will himself not to sweat. "If it's a bad time, I can just leave."
"No, come in." Edgeworth inclined his head and turned back towards his desk. "I was just finished up with some papers."
"Oh... that's good, I guess." Phoenix dimly wondered how his own pile of paperwork was doing. Probably starting to support new forms of life, as well as the sagging side of his desk by now. "Been at it long?"
"Most of my life." The smile was fleeting, but it made Phoenix balk in shock. Was that an actual joke? If it had been, Edgeworth wasn't going to dwell on it. He regained his comfortable chair and waved vaguely in the direction of his chair's inferior cousins. Phoenix took the hint and selected a black swivel chair. He sank into it awkwardly. A lumbar support chair. What an unnecessarily expensive device.
"So, what brings you to this side of the world so late? I would have thought that you'd be home having dinner."
"Trucy's got plans." Phoenix shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood. Not that I'd been arrested, or anything like that! I was just... around."
Edgeworth gave him a look. Those glasses truly were a malicious invention. They rose his condescension level to new and terrifying heights. Phoenix tried to return the look as best as he could, but had to turn away before his eyes watered too embarrassingly.
"So... you were just 'around'. And then you decided to stop by?"
"Pretty much." This was a terrible idea. This was an abysmal idea. "Sorry. I might just go now."
"Wright..." He turned before Edgeworth could stop him. Heart hammering in his chest, he crossed the office in only a couple of strides and threw his hand on the handle.
There was a faint "tink" noise. The handle turned, and kept turning. There was no pressure behind it. He stopped, and tried again. And again.
"Wright... did you just break my door?" Edgeworth's voice had evolved from curious concern to downright murderous.
Nope. Definitely not the best idea he'd ever had. But possibly the last.