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Phoenix Wright Ficlet (edgey, M; For Hachimitsu Tea)


LeapYearKisses

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So, the wonderful Hachimitsu Tea, whose art never fails to make my day, took a suggestion of mine and drew some Klapollo that was so damn cute I had to respond. Here's a Wrightworth ficlet with sick Edgeworth that I hope lives up to expectations! There's less sneezing in it than I planned, but I hope it's good anyway.

 

Set in an ambiguous time between Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies, no plot spoilers!

 

---

 

Phoenix Wright stepped out of the elevator onto the twelfth floor with his arms aching. The duffel bag he was carrying had to weigh at least thirty pounds, and though he’d been able to rest it on the elevator floor, it had been quite a slog from the bus stop to the prosecutors’ office. “I hope Miles appreciates this,” he muttered, hiking the bag higher on his shoulder. It contained evidence from one of Edgeworth’s current cases, and the prosecutor had apparently wanted to examine it in his office. Phoenix wouldn’t have brought it at all – wasn’t there usually supposed to be a guard for transporting evidence?! – but the police station was in an uproar over a recent round of budget cuts and Phoenix owed Detective Gumshoe a favor… So here he was.

 

He walked down the hall to the small upstairs lobby, where two receptionists were sharing a large desk. The young woman was on the phone with someone, politely offering to take a message. The young man, on the other hand, just seemed busy flipping through a textbook. Probably an intern, Phoenix surmised, as the boy hurriedly set the book aside and greeted him.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Wright. I heard from downstairs that you’re here to deliver evidence? Let me tell Mr. Edgeworth that you’ve arrived.”

 

“Thanks,” said Phoenix, as the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed Edgeworth’s extension. He wondered if he should put the bag down again… but then he’d have to pick it back up. He hoped Edgeworth wasn’t entertaining a meeting or something.

 

“…Prosecutor Edgeworth?” The boy frowned for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, no, no of course I- You just sound awful, sir.” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear.

“Yes sir! Sorry, sir! Of course! The evidence you asked for is here. Yes, I’ll send him down-” The boy trailed off, then sighed and returned the phone to its cradle. “He hung up on me. But he’s waiting for you. It’s office number 1202.”

 

“I know,” said Phoenix, already stepping past the desk and down the righthand hallway. Edgeworth sounded awful? Phoenix hoped he was all right. He hadn’t spoken with the prosecutor for a week or so, as they’d both been busy, but he knew the man had a tendency to overwork himself. When he reached the High Prosecutor’s office, he reached out and boldly knocked. He would get to the bottom of this.

 

“Get in here, Gumshoe,” came the immediate reply, and Phoenix had to admit that Edgeworth’s voice, usually quite smooth and patronizing sounded hoarse, as if he’d been coughing. He pushed the door open, face scrunched in concern.

 

“It’s not the detective, it’s me,” he said, lugging the duffel bag into Edgeworth’s always-impressive office. He skirted around the chessboard by the door, set up as usual with the blue pieces losing spectacularly, and walked over to the desk. Edgeworth was seated behind it in his ergonomic leather desk chair and despite this cushiony throne looked not one bit pleased to see him.

 

“Wright.” It wasn’t a question. Edgeworth had long given up questioning Phoenix’s presence in his life. “Why exactly are you transporting valuable evidence that could be stolen at any moment? You don’t exactly have the best track record interacting with potential suspects, do you?” He scowled.

 

Phoenix set the duffel bag onto the desk a little more heavily than he meant to, rattling the desk lamp and a steaming mug of tea. He smiled an apology as Edgeworth quickly moved the mug away from the stack of papers he was looking at. “Sorry, but there weren’t any police personnel who were free to do it. And one would think you’d be more grateful to someone who carried two bowling balls across town for you! What are these for, anyway?”

 

Edgeworth pulled the bag closer and unzipped it to look inside. “They went missing from the victim’s house and were later recovered from the scene of the crime.” Phoenix peeked into the bag as well. One of the bowling balls was silver with veins of white, the other was solid black. They both were flecked with dried blood. Edgeworth gave him a familiar look of exasperation and zipped the bag again. “However, their relevance is none of your business.”

 

Phoenix raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. My office isn’t handling the defense, but I guess we shouldn’t talk about it anyway.” Now that he was up close to the prosecutor, he could see that Edgeworth’s skin was paler than usual, save for a spot of color in each cheek. His nose and lips also appeared chapped. “Why don’t we talk about something that is my business, then?” he asked, walking around the desk and resting a hand on Edgeworth’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

 

Although Edgeworth had leaned into his touch automatically, he still made a dismissive noise. “I don’t know what you mean.” The statement was somewhat spoiled by the cough that followed it, although it was muffled against a fist. “Thank you for delivering these. Now, don’t you have something else you could be doing? I’m very busy.”

 

“I can see that,” said Phoenix, allowing his eyes to roam about the office. It was clear that Edgeworth had been there for hours, what with the all the neat stacks of papers, files, and law books that surrounded him. “But I’m saying that you should take a break and go home. Maybe catch up on some Steel Samurai reruns.” His other hand had also drifted to the prosecutor’s back and he started to gently massage. “You’re sick, and in order to get better you need to rest.

 

“Tsk. You have no proof of that.” Edgeworth had been enjoying the massage, but after those words left his mouth, he stiffened, as if he wished he hadn’t said them. “Wright…”

 

Phoenix, on the other hand, had smiled. “You want proof? Well, I suppose evidence is everything in court!” He straightened and began poking around the room. “How about this bottle of Coldkiller X, conveniently stashed on your bookshelf?”

 

“That isn’t mine.” Edgeworth turned in his chair to watch Phoenix’s progress, arms folded. Every now and then he sniffed, almost inaudibly.

 

“No? Well, how about this scarf?” Phoenix pulled the garment in question from the coatrack in the corner where it had been covered by Edgeworth’s long, charcoal pea coat. “You almost never wear a scarf unless you’re sick, since it messes up your cravat.”

 

Edgeworth clucked disapprovingly and then cleared his throat. “It’s quite cold today, Wright. Or did that not penetrate your thick skin? I was merely making a concession to the weather.”

 

Phoenix nodded. “I see. That would make sense… But this isn’t your scarf. It’s mine.” He grinned. “You left the house wearing the scarf that Trucy made me for Christmas last year. I must have left it at your place, but that doesn’t explain why you wore it to work!”

 

“That isn’t-” Edgeworth stopped and narrowed his eyes. It was. The blue and white weave had a pattern of magician’s hats. He blushed faintly. Had anyone seen him draped in that ridiculous thing? He’d tried to get inside quickly, but…

 

“There’s no way you would mistake this for your nice black scarf if you were feeling at 100%,” said Phoenix, putting it back. “Ready to admit it?”

 

“Objection… I was in a hurry.”

 

Phoenix sighed and shook his head, indulgent smile on his face. “You need more proof?”

 

“This is all circumstantial,” said Edgeworth stubbornly, rubbing his nose surreptitiously with the back of his fingers.

 

“Uh-huh.” Phoenix came back around the desk and pulled out his trump card, something he’d noticed when he’d been behind Edgeworth before. “What about your trash can full of tissues? Surely you’re not going to claim they belong to someone else? You’re too much of a neat freak to take this from anyone but yourself.” There was no answer. “Miles?” He leaned to see Edgeworth’s face.

 

It was currently being covered by yet another tissue, held in both of the prosecutor’s hands. “Are you done?” Edgeworth asked irritably, letting his eyes fall shut as his breath caught. “Hih- hh-”

 

Phoenix knew he’d won. “Yeah. Let me get your stuff together for you.” He started bustling around the office collecting Edgeworth’s files, his coat, and any random personal effects that had gone astray. He also stuck the bowling balls in Edgeworth’s secret evidence safe that he wasn’t supposed to know about. Mainly this was all a ruse to give the man the illusion of privacy. They had known each other for so long now, but some things could still be awkward.

 

Edgeworth rubbed his nose through the tissue, trying in vain to quell the itch of the incoming sneeze. Instead, he only succeeded in hastening its arrival. After a few more false starts, it erupted upon him with grim insistence. “Hih- hih- Hh-ttschh!” He got in only one short, desperate breath before a second one followed. “Httszch!”

 

“Bless you, Miles,” said Phoenix as the prosecutor tried wearily to clear his sinuses. “Should I put these files in your briefcase?”

 

“Please.” Edgeworth tossed his tissue, defeated.

 

“All right.” Phoenix put them away and held Edgeworth’s coat out for him to shrug into. Then he wound his magic scarf around Edgeworth’s neck, tucking the ends in so it wouldn’t slip. “You’re coming back to my place, right?”

 

Edgeworth laid his forehead against Phoenix’s shoulder, letting the man hold him for a moment. “Yes, if you like.” He pulled away with a short cough, then threaded their fingers together.

 

“We can have a quiet night in. I’ll run you a bath. And make some tea,” said Phoenix, leading the way to the stairwell. “And Trucy can put on a magic show for you.”

 

“Phoenix, you’re terrible at making proper tea,” Edgeworth replied, though he had to admit to himself that the rest of it didn’t sound that bad at all.

Edited by LeapYearKisses
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That was so cute!! Sometimes I think Edgey is my reason for living! And I agree with Artygirl22, very in character!

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Aww that was cute. wub.png Haha, I like how you incorporated the whole Phoenix "showing evidence" aspect into the story and Miles just denying everything.

Objection! bleh.gif It's been a while since I played the games, but I could totally see this as a mini "episode". Nicely written!

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@Artygirl22: Thank you!

@InuCiel: Your reason for living? I can totally get behind that. Thank you!

@melonbun: I've been playing Dual Destinies pretty much noinstop for the last week (I finished on Monday :'D) and so it just felt natural to stick in some investigation! Thanks!

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C-cuuuuuuuuuute >///w///< Oh man, that was so cute! Edgeworth is a tough character to get right and you totally nailed it! I love how in the end he just gave his pride the finger and let Phoenix hold him. What an adorable image! And I really like the way you spelled his sneezes too <3 Hopefully you'll feel inspired to write more of these two dorks 'cause I'd love to see what else you could come up with biggrin.png Thank you so, so much for taking on my request and making it super awesome!

Edited by Hachimitsu Tea
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