"Hey, Nick! Table eight needs their drinks, stop playin' that damn piano and help me!"

Phoenix looked up from the piano, stopping abruptly so that his fingers accidentally fell over a stray key, letting the song end on a careening note. The girl flinched, before flipping her hair over her ear and pointing at him with a manicured finger.

"Table eight. Needs drinks. Now." She accentuated the last word with a sharp pop from her gum, and Phoenix sighed, pushing out from the piano and standing. He tugged idly at his blue beanie, keeping his hair covered as he walked behind the bar. The girl, his boss, handed him the ice bucket, which contained the bottle of wine, along with an empty glass. He tucked the bucket awkwardly under his arm, holding the glass carefully in his left hand.

"And. Don't. Drop. It." Each word was accompanied by a loud SNAP of the gum, and Nick nodded numbly, not bothering to give her any eye contact as she talked. But she was used to that. Nick was never a man that paid attention to much. It was why his job was to play the piano and sometimes run drinks when she was swamped or just lazy.

He stood there, for a few more seconds. His boss frowned, before snapping loudly: "Go!" Like a spooked rabbit, he flinched and walked hurriedly the other way. He kept his head down and focused on his feet. One step, two steps, three steps... he counted them, darting his eyes up forward to making sure he wouldn't run smack into a patron. The last thing he wanted to do was pay for another broken glass out of his flimsy paycheck.

Twelve steps, thirteen steps, fourteen steps...

He looked up, suddenly, holding his head high and scoping the place. Table eight, table eight... His eyes landed on the small table, where a lone man sat enveloped in an overcoat, flipping through a copy of the Wallstreet Journal. Quickly Phoenix shuffled over, placing the ice bucket down on the table gently. At the slight thump, the man looked up.

Phoenix gasped and dropped the wine glass. It shattered to a million pieces on the wooden floor below. "...Miles?"

The man looked up, brushing his silver bangs from his face. "You dropped the glass, Wright."

"Nick! Nick! You grab a dust pan and pick that up and- get that man a new glass!" His boss shrieked, hearing the noise of breaking glass from across the room. Her voice carried easily over the distance between them, and he winced, looking slowly over at her.

"Yes, ma'am..." He called back, his eyes flitting back to Miles- who was watching him, calmly- before scurrying off to grab the dustpan.

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There was something lost in translation between attorney to pianist, and while Phoenix's fingers had become agile from the work, his mind had become dull. There was none of that quickness behind his eyes. He spoke carefully, picking out his words, more laid- back then he had ever been. Miles smiled sadly, barely listening to Wright talk about his new life. It was interesting, yes, but this wasn't the Phoenix he knew.

Those blue eyes blinked, and he waved a hand in front of Edgeworth's face. "... You still there?"

The prosecutor smiled faintly, straightening his cravat absently. "Yes, I am... could you just repeat what you said?"

Phoenix grew somber, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "I said, I missed you. Those years." He sucked in a sharp breath, tilting backward slightly, on the back of his heels. Miles unconsciously moved forward, his arm extending out behind him. It looked like the frail man would crumple right then and there in the street. Phoenix, instead of straightening himself, leaned farther back, nearly falling, so that Edgeworth's hand touched his back. The prosecutor pressed his hand firmly on his back, pushing him forward and level on his feet.

"Phoenix-" That blank, glazed look had developed in his face, and Miles felt his gut wrench. What had happened? What made a great attorney and man turn into this? "... I..." Words escaped him, and both of them stopped in their tracks.

"... What happened to you?" Miles was blunt, very blunt; because there was nothing else he could be in a situation like this. What were you to say when you find a shell of a man you once knew?

Phoenix looked away, "Nothing's happened. Nothing at all."

"You left-"

"So did you."

A silence fell over them, more fragile then glass. Their eyes connected, and they stared at each other.

"You left me." Phoenix said softly. Miles looked away. "You left me and I had nothing left. Everything I've ever done in my life was because of you. I became a lawyer because of you. I've chased you my entire life." His voice had fallen to a whisper. Edgeworth looked at him. "And then you left me again... I was too tired to follow. I even thought, maybe, that I could stop chasing you." He scratched the back of his head, an old gesture Miles was familiar with.

He looked at the ground. "I should have never let you go away to Europe."

Miles looked away, quiet, his arms crossed. He felt guilt in all of this. Was it really his fault that he had degraded into such a man?

Phoenix fell forward, clinging to Miles in desperation and pressing his lips against Miles in an anxious kiss. The Prosecutor's eyes widened, and he flinched and pushed the other away.

"Wright!"

"We can't..." He said, faintly, disorientated from the sudden kiss. His bangs were messy, and his face was flushed the same color of his outfit. Phoenix looked slightly disappointed in the reaction, and he tugged his beanie lower, nearly over his eyes.

"Why not? It's not like we're ever going to see each other after this." Phoenix said hollowly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Edgeworth quirked an eyebrow at him, taking a step forward.

"What do you mean? I can visit you here-"

"And I'll just move." Phoenix replied shortly back, his voice lowering. He sighed, and looked away. "If you're not going to accept me... I..." He shook his head wearily, as if he was trying to clear the thoughts from his brain. "Maybe it has been to long. I am different." He added in a whisper. "I don't think I could even go back, if it worked."

He felt a hand on his face, tipping his head up and tilting it slightly so that Miles could give him a proper kiss. Their noses brushed together as he kissed him, Phoenix's eyes wide. Just as his lids slid shut, Miles pulled away, calmly adjusting his cravat.

"You disappoint me, Wright... I would think your reincarnation would be a bit more impressive, for a Phoenix." Edgeworth said softly, his head tilted so that gray hair fell into gray eyes.

Phoenix smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Edgeworth." He whispered, straightening the blue beanie on his head so that it rested right above his eyes.

"... Goodbye, Phoenix."

They parted, going their opposite directions. As they passed, their hands brushed, and the prosecutor's fingers tried, in a desperate attempt, to grasp Phoenix's fingers. To hold on, even though he felt like letting go. There was a connection, as their fingers laced, and they stopped in their tracks, breath coming out in short, white puffs in the winter air; something was said between them that took no words to say.

'Goodbye, Wright. Farewell. Adieu.'

'Until we meet again?'

'See you in hell, then.'

'Looking forward to it.'

Just as silently, their fingers unraveled and they left, footsteps tapping against the sidewalk as they went their separate ways.

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I already have half of the sequel written. Hah! Oh, and you want the stories to churn out faster? Other then these loving comments, (PS, Ms. Elise Grandewing-I-have-an-incredibly-fancy-username, memes make me smile. ) suggest some songs for me to listen. If they're on youtube, all the better. But anyway, thanks for all of the reviews. Go read some of my other stories and make me happy. ;D