Author's Notes: Ugh… this will be my Valentine's Day fic. Really. I'm probably gonna forget by the time it's February 14. Valentine's Phoenix/Larry fic.

I'm sick, have a head-ache and a fever, and I'm typing Phoenix/Larry. Welp. Can't blame a girl for trying.

Excuse the crappiness.

Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney belongs to CAPCOM. I am in no way claiming this to be mine.

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People knew Larry Butz to be a master with the art of females.

People knew that this was a preposterous claim, that Larry simply took pleasure in boasting about his string of girlfriends, purposely not mentioning that a hundred percent of those girlfriends have broken up with him.

People knew that during Valentine's Day, Larry Butz would be looking for a gift.

But what people didn't know, was that Larry had no idea what to get.

Because this certain someone didn't like perfume, teddy bears, flowers, chocolate, and the like.

And so, Larry decided to stumble over to none other than his faithful best friend, Phoenix Wright's, law offices.

Phoenix probably wasn't working, anyway.

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"Nick!"

Larry sauntered over into the law offices with the most cheerful look a man could have on his face, his body movements completely childish and not at all what an adult should move like. This triggered Wright's head to snap up from his important paperwork, and stare at the brunette that took his day of filing paperwork to bother him.

"What is it now, Larry? I'm not, repeat not, spending my Valentine's Day with you doing the things you do when your latest target of affection turns you down," Phoenix mumbled, tapping his pen lightly on the desk in obvious frustration. Larry pouted, lower lip quivering as his eyes watered exaggeratedly. Phoenix, used to this behavior, found no effect; and continued his paperwork.

"But, Nick! It's six days away from Valentine's, what makes you think I was gonna ask that?" Larry retorted, slamming his palms on the desk in an attempted mocking gesture, causing Phoenix to glance up only briefly.

"Every year, you come here six days before Valentine's with that same excuse, and after knowing you for fifteen years, I think I know you well enough," Phoenix replied flatly, placing one of his neatly written signatures on one of the papers.

"But, Nick! This time it isn't about that! It's about a girl!"

This time, Phoenix's eyes lightened, and he looked up at Larry curiously.

"Someone you have a chance with?"

"I've known her since fourth grade! I should have a chance with her!"

Phoenix nodded, standing from his seat and moving towards the couch; which Larry reluctantly followed.

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"So, what makes her different from normal girls, Larry?" Phoenix asked, looking toward the other male with a raised, wiggly eyebrow. Larry sighed, slumping his shoulders and sniffling over-dramatically.

"Sh-She doesn't like material things, Nick!" Larry whined, flailing his arms around. "It's horrible!"

Phoenix smiled at this, amused at Larry's antics, now understanding how he got his model-like girlfriends – material things. Most pretty girls liked material things. Larry, seeing the amused face of the porcupine-headed lawyer, pouted childishly and crossed his arms across his chest.

"I'm sorry for being a loser, Nick!" he said, thinking the amused smile to be something like a laugh at Larry's strange actions. This, however, awakened the defensive side of Phoenix, who shook his head. "You're not a loser, Larry," Phoenix said, placing a reassuring hand on the brunette's shoulder. "You're just an idiot."

"That's another problem!" Larry wailed, burying his face in his hands. "She thinks I'm an idiot! In a bad way!"

'There's a good way?' Phoenix thought, amused again, before nodding. "How do you know what she thinks?" he asked, dark-colored optics examining the slumped figure beside him.

"Sh-She calls me an idiot. Right in front of my face."

"That's rude," Phoenix said, and Larry nodded, sighing. "What makes you like her, then, Lar?" prodded the defense attorney, having forgotten about the hand resting upon the orange-clad male's shoulder.

"Well…" Larry started, his cheeks now having a slight pink hue as he smiled in a goofy manner, "Her personality is to die for."

Phoenix blinked hard at this, cupping his own chin in his palm. "Really now?" he asked, now completely interested – ever since his failure with Dollie a few years ago, well, he supposed he never really had the chance for a love life.

"She really, really fights for what she believes in. She's faithful to the people she cares about, she's selfless, she's a genius and a little bit of a klutz (at this point, Phoenix wrinkled his nose at the hypocrisy). And," Larry grinned at this, "She's hot."

Phoenix sweatdropped (how animé), wondering how 'hot' fit into the personality, though shrugged off the stupidity of it all.

"What do you think I should give her for Valentine's, Nick?" Larry wailed, tears once more leaving his eyes by the bucket, his hands gripping Phoenix's collar tightly. "WHAT?!"

Phoenix thought about it for a moment, and wrote down his advice.

Larry scrambled out of the office, confused.

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On the night of February 14, Phoenix lay on his bed, yawning and making small noises of ululation as his hands clapped over his mouth. Today had been a regular day, except for the number of Valentine's cards that said 'thank you', the roses that said 'thank you' and the chocolate that said 'screw you, Trite' from Godot.

Phoenix chuckled at the last bit.

A few seconds later, a shoe crashed through his window and fell to the ground.

A minute later, Phoenix snapped out of his stupor to be able to peek out the window.

A minute and a half later, Phoenix's mouth was open into a wide 'O'.

Two minutes later, the person out his window was busily singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' and attempting to play guitar at the same time.

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"Larry!" Phoenix called out, breathless, looking down at the male with a confused look. "What are you - ?"

Larry snorted and shook his head. "I'm not Larry! I'm Laurice Deauxnim! I'm here as my – er, Mr. Butz's messenger boy!" he shouted back, and Phoenix resisted the urge to throw his alarm clock at him in frustration.

"Well, Laurice," Phoenix mocked, sighing, "What are you doing here for Larry?"

"I'm a messenger boy!" 'Laurice' said, waving a hand, "What do you think I do?"

Phoenix sighed again. "Go ahead."

"Dear Nick comma (Phoenix was about to laugh at the 'comma' part, supposing that Laurice knew not how to pause); I asked a friend of mine what to get you for Valentine's and he told me to do this. I couldn't learn a guitar piece in a night, so I decided to play what I already knew.

"I just wanted to say that Edgey's not the only fish out in the sea! I mean, your crush on him is so obvious that it makes me laugh. But anyway, whatever. You know I'm here for you, right Nicky?

"Just because I don't wear pink and frills doesn't mean that I'm not attracted to guys!"

Phoenix blinked hard.

"Erm, that sounded wrong. Sorry. I don't got an eraser and I don't wanna strike out my mistakes. Whatever."

Laurice was fiddling with the paper now, and Phoenix couldn't help but smile at the effort.

"If by some miracle you and Edgey end up together, I'm not, like, gonna be jealous. I'll just maybe find someone else before he breaks your heart and I like, gotta tape the pieces. Parenthesis, dude, was that the right expression? I think it's something like pick up the pieces, but, whatever. End parenthesis, back together.

"So, yeah! Happy Valentine's, and, um, yeah. I… maybe-love you, dunno. But yeah. Happy Valentine's. Watch out for Edgey. I see how he looks at you in court. Love, comma, Larry.

"P.S.: Sorry for not paying you back the twenty I owe you.

"P.P.S.: Sorry I couldn't get you that… luxury… tea or something. Dude, that was just way too expensive! But I did everything else you told me to!"

Phoenix threw the shoe right back at Laurice a few minutes after.

"Tell Larry.. I maybe-love him too, alright?" the lawyer said after much contemplation, a sigh escaping his lips at the realization of this sort of confession. At first he thought it was Edgeworth, but..

Laurice grinned and nodded.

"Will do, sir. Will do."

An hour later, it was not Laurice who came back, but Larry.

And the two guys spent the night throwing shoes and learning how to play guitar.

Or that's how it goes.

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Author's Notes: Stupid ending.

I was going more for the 'humorous' style of writing, but whatever.

Happy Valentine's, everyone.

Love, comma, Reona-chan.