Miles Edgeworth walked back to the prosecutor's office from his preferred lunch spot, a small cafe which sold his favorite earl gray tea and finger sandwiches. He'd gotten almost halfway to the office when he heard someone singing, loudly, very off-key. The man was sitting on the steps of a restaurant, the Borsct Bowl Club. He wore a stained gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. A blue beanie covered his head. He held an empty wine bottle in his hand.

Miles averted his eyes from the drunk. He didn't want to provoke him. As he stepped past, the drunk abruptly stopped singing.

"Edgeworth?... Is that you?"

Miles stopped. That voice, it couldn't be…

He turns to face the man. He stared into, unmistakably, the dark blue eyes of Phoenix Wright.

The rest of him looked nothing like Miles's childhood friend and colleague. His face was decorated with a five o'clock shadow and dark circles under his eyes. The beanie covered his signature spiky hair and the sweatshirt and sweatpants were a far cry from the blue suits he usually wore. Something was very, very wrong.

"Wright, what are you doing out here in this state? It's one thirty in the afternoon," Miles said, his voice cold, but inside his mind stormed with worry.

"D-didn't you hear? I got dibs- diiiiiss- disbarrrrrred." Phoenix chuckled, stumbling over the words. "I figured y-you knew the hotshot. Klavier Gavin?"

Yes, Miles did know the hotshot. The blonde rock star prosecutor had looked desolate entering the office after Phoenix's hearing. Klavier was a good man, and the thought that he had almost singlehandedly ruined Phoenix's career must weigh heavily on his conscience.

"He didn't mean any harm, the man was doing his job," Miles said. "He was trying to find the truth. That is our job as lawyers and prosecutors."

"I know that, and I was trying to do my job," Phoenix said. "Believe in your clients!" He shouted drunkenly, heaving himself to his feet. "Thanks, Chief! Whole lot of good that did me!"

"Okay, alright, Wright." Miles looked around nervously. People were starting to stare. "I'm taking you home. You're in no state to be about like this."

"Pfff, I don't need to go home. The night has just begun!" Phoenix yelled, wobbling a little on his feet.

"The night hasn't even begun." Miles placed a hand around Phoenix's shoulders to support him. The fumes of alcohol coming from him were very unpleasant. "Come on."

"You're such a tight-ass," Phoenix snickered but offered little resistance as Miles pulled him towards the prosecutor's office, where his red sports car was parked. Using his free hand, he used his cell phone to call his secretary.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth's office."

"Hello, Mrs. Ferris. Please cancel all my appointments for today and reschedule. A… situation has come up. I'm leaving early."

"Is everything alright, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"I'm fine. I have affairs I must settle. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm an… affair?" Phoenix giggled as Miles hung up the phone. Miles felt his face flush.

"Don't flatter yourself."

After getting Phoenix into his car, arguing with him for two minutes about putting a seatbelt, and five punch buggies, no punchbacks, they arrived at Phoenix's apartment. Miles helped him up the stairs, watched him put his key in the look and open the door. Phoenix stumbled into the apartment and Miles flicked the light on. It was a small apartment, with the living area and kitchen condensed into one room. One of the light bulbs flickered. The smell was unique, but not unpleasant… Something that could only be described as Wright.

"D...do you want a drink?" Phoenix asked, starting towards the fridge.

"No," Miles said. "Sit down."

"Bossy." Phoenix sat down on his red couch. "I like it when you take charge."

Miles rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen. He searched for a glass, then filled it with water from the fridge. Phoenix turned the TV on, and Miles could hear the Steel Samurai theme song. Fighting the urge to jump on the couch and watch, Miles controlled his steps to the couch, placed the glass down on the coffee table, and sat down a safe distance from Phoenix.

"Maya loves this show," Phoenix said, his face unreadable.

"Has she called recently?"

"No." He shook his head and took a sip of water. "No service over in Khura'in, too busy training being a medium or something."

"Oh."

Silence stood between them for a few moments. Miles crossed his arms and watched the TV. He felt more and more awkward by the moment. The only thing that made it feel a little better was that he was watching his favorite TV show with Phoenix.

He wanted to say something to comfort him, but what? He had always been cold, unapproachable, the demon prosecutor. He had no experience with this stuff.

"You like this show too, don't you, Edgeworth?" Phoenix asked, smirking.

"O-of course not," Miles protested. "It's a kid's show."

"Thou doth protest too much."

"Wright, you are insufferable."

"I think that means I win."

"... How did you win? You didn't win anything."

Phoenix's face fell and Miles immediately regretted his words.

"I guess you're right. I don't have anything anymore."

"I'm very sorry," Miles said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. And I'm sorry about your disbarment as well." Phoenix nodded in acknowledgment.

"I know… I know that it's my fault," he admitted. "I should have done something like, I don't know, cross-check the evidence or something before using it in court."

"There's no way you could have known that page was a fake," Miles said. "I saw it, and the rest of Gramarye's journal. It could have fooled anyone."

"But not Klavier," Phoenix said, turning to Miles. "Somehow, he knew."

Miles put a hand to his chin. Yes, it was odd that Klavier somehow had inner knowledge about the page that had gotten Phoenix disbarred. There was no way he could have known, unless…

"Somebody set you up," Miles continued his thought out loud. "Where did you get the page?"

"Gramarye's daughter, Trucy." Phoenix shook his head. "Do you really think somebody could have set me up? Gramarye could have maybe ordered the forgery to try to get off the hook."

"If that were true, why tell Prosecutor Gavin about it? It doesn't make sense."

Phoenix crossed his legs and stared intently at the water glass.

"I guess you're right," he said, after a long pause. "Somebody could have done it. Somebody could have done it, and that means I can investigate and figure out who wanted to get me disbarred, and if I can investigate and find the truth, it means that I can get my badge back!" Phoenix stood up from the couch, too quickly. He wobbled, and Miles stood up to put his hands on his shoulders to steady him. Phoenix turned to face his childhood friend. Miles was too close. He could smell the alcoholic fumes coming off of Phoenix's breath and it made him dizzy.

"Miles… will you help me? Get my badge back?"

Miles startled at the use of his first name. Phoenix hadn't used it since they were in fourth grade.

"Of course I will help you, Wright. Please sit back down."

Phoenix obliged. He sunk into the couch, closing his eyes.

"Hey, why don't we call each other by our first names anymore?" he asked. "I can't remember the last time you called me Phoenix."

"Because we're adults now, I suppose." Miles sat down next to him. "It isn't often that I will call people by their first names. Only family."

"I feel like… it's so formal," Phoenix said. "Wright. Edgeworth. It doesn't sound like we're friends. Are we friends, Edgeworth?"

Miles thought back to when their mutual friend Larry Butz had called him that one fateful February night, when Phoenix had fallen into the Eagle River from an unimaginable height trying to save Maya, his then-assistant.

"It's Nick! H-he took a really nasty spill!" Larry's voice had said

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time, so…"

"I'm not joking! His life is in danger!"

"Wh-what?!" Instantly, Miles sat up in bed. " What happened?! Tell me!"

"Talk about bad luck! He might already be dead!"

Miles remembered how those words had made him feel, the way his heart fell into a deep pit. The entire world came out from underneath his feet. How strongly he felt about Phoenix dying had surprised him but he had no time to figure out the source of these strange feelings. Miles only knew that he had to see him. He chartered a private jet in Europe, he couldn't remember what country he had been in- Germany, maybe?- in order to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible.

The relief he had felt seeing Phoenix, upright and not dying had been insurmountable. Miles had been in such a state of euphoria that he would have agreed to absolutely anything Phoenix asked him to do, was how he ended up covering for him in court during the case while he recovered.

It was then that Miles finally understood the depths of his true feelings for him. He could have gotten disbarred himself for illegally posing as a defense attorney and meddling in the case, if anyone important enough cared to report him for it. It was an annoyance. It was impractical. it was dangerous. It was something he wouldn't have even considered doing had it been anyone else but Phoenix, who placed his badge and trust in Miles in a way nobody else ever had.

To sum it up…

"Yes," Miles finally said to Phoenix, who was watching him, dark blue eyes unreadable. "We're friends."

"Way to make me hold my breath. Why'd you have to take so long?" Phoenix chuckled, turning away and taking a sip of water.

"I thought it was a given. I did just agree to help you get your badge back. Isn't that something a friend would do?"

"Yeah, you're right." Phoenix smiled. He then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Miles, holding him in a tight embrace. Miles's felt his face heat up and struggled against Phoenix's arms.

"Wright- wh- what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you a hug, that's what friends do."

It was all Miles could do to awkwardly pat Phoenix on the shoulder a few times. It had been so long since he'd received any form of physical affection at all. He was completely unprepared for this and the way it made him feel (warm, giddy, a little aroused), but the stench of wine coming from Phoenix made it wrong. He wouldn't have been all over him like this if he was sober, Miles was sure of that. Phoenix lifted his head from Miles's shoulder and looked up into his eyes.

"Hey, you smell good. What kind of cologne are you wearing?"

No. This wasn't the way Miles wanted this to go. Not today. If anything of a sexual nature ever happened between them, he wanted both of them sober. He wanted it, needed it to mean something.

"Okay, I think it's time you went to bed." Miles extricated himself from Phoenix's arms, only to grab onto his arm to peel him off the couch.

"But it's in the middle of the day!" Phoenix complained.

"You're still drunk." Miles sighed. "Honestly, you're such a strange drunk. One moment I feel like I'm having a cohesive conversation with you and the next you're trying to grope me."

"I wasn't trying to grope you! Unless you want to get groped."

"I do not want to get groped." Miles's face was getting redder by the minute.

"Okay! Glad we settled that. Although judging by the way you're pulling me to the bedroom… you're kinda sending me some mixed signals here. You know, I'm ready if you're ready."

"Then stay put!" Miles snapped, letting go of Phoenix's arm. "I'll be going back to the office. Just, for the love of God, don't drink anymore tonight." He turned and began to walk back towards the door.

"Wait, Miles-" He could feel air at his back as Phoenix reached to grab his coat sleeve and missed.

"Good night, Wright!"

The front door slammed.

When Phoenix woke up the next morning, his head was throbbing and his stomach roiled against him.

Oh my god, what the hell, I feel like I'm dying. He let out a loud moan and sat up. He was on his couch, surrounded by pillows. A glass half-full of water sat in front of him. He remembered.

He couldn't remember everything, that's for sure. It was fuzzy as hell. He remembered feeling Miles's cool hand on his shoulder, guiding him up the stairs to his apartment, Miles telling him he'd help him get his badge back, holding him his arms, Miles slamming the door…

Oh no.

Phoenix felt around the couch for his cell phone. He flipped it open. He'd called Miles three times. All had missed. He had to call and apologize. After I throw up, he thought as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He ran to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Tequila's the worst. I'm never doing that again. No matter how depressed I get.

He wiped his mouth off and stumbled back to the couch where his phone was sitting. He put his head in his hands and slowly rubbed his forehead in circles.

"I'm ready if you're ready."

He wished he was dying. His childhood friend, the man who had inspired him to become a lawyer, Miles, the man for whom Phoenix was willing to fight to his last breath to save him from his demons probably now thought he was some obnoxious horndog who couldn't control himself.

He wanted to die.

I should go get drunk again. Why not? I'm a worthless piece of shit who lost his badge. My best friend who maybe I felt something more for, now hates me.

As he wrapped his hand around his cabinet, where his wines were, something made him stop.

No. This is what got you here in the first place. It's because of this that you hurt Miles. He believed in you. He wanted to help you get your badge back. Call him and apologize.

Phoenix took a deep breath, reached into his stained pocket, and dialed Edgeworth's number before he could stop himself. The phone rung four times and went to voicemail. Phoenix took a deep breath and started talking.

"Uh, hey, Mile- Edgeworth. It's me. Or, well, Phoenix. Phoenix Wright. Well, I mean, of course it's Phoenix Wright, who else has a first name like… well, you know. Anyway... I'm sober now. Yay…"

His sigh turned to a moan as his head began to throb again.

"Look… I'm just calling because I wanted to apologize. I know things got a little weird last night, and I'm sorry if I freaked you out, I know you've never been much of a touchy-feely kind of guy. I don't really know what I was thinking. But, uh, I hope we're still friends. And thanks for picking me up and taking me home and putting up with me for… well, as long as you were able to. Uh, I guess, call me back. If you want to. No pressure. Okay. Bye."

He closed his phone and let out a sigh. He glanced back at the wine cabinet longingly.

Why not?

He was trying to yank the cork out of his cheap chardonnay when his phone rang. Phoenix dropped the bottle and it smashed on the floor. He answered the phone.

"H-hey, Edgeworth, I… I didn't think you'd call."

"Good morning, Wright." Miles said. He cleared his throat after a pause. "How are you feeling?"

"You know. Disbarred. Hungover. Look, about last night-"

"It's okay, Wright. I listened to your message."

"No, it's really not," Phoenix said, shaking his head vigorously. "Edgeworth, you saw me there, drunk on the steps of that club. I've been doing that every night this week, a different club every night. Nobody's bothered, or really been able to stop me. But you took me home, tried to take care of me, gave me hope, and I just… I made it weird. I shouldn't have done that to you. And I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology."

Phoenix let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. The silence between them grew, and he wasn't really sure how to fill it. He heard Miles take a deep breath.

"Look, Wright, the problem… it wasn't that you were… showing interest in me. It was that you were inebriated while doing it. And, I suppose, the manner in which you decided to go about it."

What?

"So… wait… so what you're saying is you're not mad that I was… well… hitting on you?" Phoenix stammered.

Miles sighed. "Well, yes and no, I… let me figure out how to put this." Was he going to say what he sounded like he was going to say?

"Wright, it has become apparent to myself that have feelings for you."

The entire world seemed to stop. Phoenix stared at the glass shards of the wine bottle on the floor, scattered around the room in a chaotic manner. He suddenly became self-aware of his breathing. In and out. In and out.

"Well? Say something, please." Miles's voice seemed shaky, uncertain.

"U-uh, yeah, sure, I just, um, how? When? Why?" Phoenix could barely form coherent sentences.

"I can't really tell you how. I can tell you when, although I'm not sure you'd want to hear it. As for why, well… you've always been there for me. You're kind, determined, quick on your feet, and can somehow always see the best in people, even me."

"Miles…" Phoenix felt himself blush. "I-I just, I can't believe it, you… you like me?"

"Dammit, Wright, how many times are you going to make me say it?"

"I… I had no idea." Phoenix chuckled, his happiness escaping through short bursts.

"Judging by the way you acted last night, that's hard to believe."

"That was just me being drunk and stupid," Phoenix said. "I didn't think you had… serious, real-life feelings- are they serious, real-life feelings?"

Miles sighed. "As unnecessary as they are serious, real-life feelings."

Phoenix chuckled again, letting all the shock roll off him.

"I'm sorry, I-I feel like I'm a kid again, I- I never in a million years, thought that you would feel that way about me too."

"You too, then?" Edgeworth asked, surprised. "I... I didn't expect that."

"Me neither!" Phoenix's face was alight with a smile, red with giddy. He wished he could see Miles right now. He could picture it- the man standing in his red suit and cravat, gray eyes watching him, seeing into his soul. He'd come toward him and wrap Phoenix in his arms, telling him again and again that he had feelings for him.

"So… what now, then?" Edgeworth asked, interrupting his fantasy.

"What now?" Phoenix repeated, and thought for a moment. "Well, for starters, why don't I take you out for dinner tonight? Just the two of us. Like a first date."

"A date." Phoenix could hear Miles's smile through the phone lines. A slight curve of his thin lips, missable to the untrained eye. "Very well, Wright. 7 o'clock?"

"My schedule is wiiiiide open." Phoenix said, then thought about the reason why his schedule was wide open. His disbarment. "Miles, did you mean what you said last night, about helping me get my badge back?"

"Of course I did," Miles said. "Being an attorney truly is your calling, and I look forward to facing you again in the courtroom. Although… it would probably a conflict of interest if we were indeed… together."

"We'll figure something out." Phoenix grinned. He stared down at his gray sweater and sweatpants. They were now stained with the wine that splattered when he'd dropped it on the floor mere minutes ago, when he was convinced he had ruined one of the only good things left in his life.

How quickly things can change.

"I must go, I'm already late for work. Please text me where we're going and I will plan accordingly."

"Okay, Miles. I uh… I hope you have a good day at work today."

"I hope you have a good day today too, Phoenix. See you at 7."

Miles hung up the phone, and Phoenix put the phone down on the counter. He stared at the mess, smiled, took up the towel, and began to mop it up.

Together, him and Miles would fix the mess that was life after disbarment.