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Miles Edgeworth knew he was a man of … particular taste. Expensive. The word for it, if he was being honest, was expensive. He liked nice fabrics that felt good on his skin, skincare products with french names that came in frosted glass bottles, and tea that you had to be on a waitlist to get. So? Sue him. He’d win.
He knew that a therapist could probably have a field day with his penchant for luxury goods, something to do with needing to have material reminders of his worth when that validation was so lacking in his childhood with von Karma, or a need for external serotonin when his body failed to produce it normally. Or something like that. But Edgeworth felt that even after the aforementioned field day was had and the therapy bills had been paid, he’d still want that waitlist tea. (He had it on good authority that several members of the British royal family were on that waitlist too.)
Miles also knew that owning or liking expensive things didn’t make anyone better than anyone else. Take Phoenix Wright, for example. He was, without a doubt, the best man in the entire universe (Miles had decisive evidence of this) and his favorite coffee came from a corner store and cost one dollar. It was all about preference, and Edgeworth had no right to judge one way or another. More than preference, it was about means. Edgeworth was in a position of privilege, earning a salary that, according to census data, put him in the top percentile in the country. Phoenix, on the other hand, was in a tougher spot. What money he earned went directly to rent, groceries, or Trucy.
Which brought him to his main point of frustration. Again, to reiterate, having nice things was in no way an indicator of moral superiority, in fact it was often the exact opposite. And again, he knew Phoenix was an incredible father, doing everything he could to support his daughter, even in dire situations. But…
“Papa, hold on a sec.”
“Hmm?” Miles stopped, looking back over his shoulder at his daughter. Trucy had knelt down on the street, fiddling with her boot. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. My shoe just broke.” She shrugged. He stepped closer, seeing that the sole of her right boot had come clean off and was now flopping around in her hand like a dying trout.
“Oh, I’m sorry Hase, I know you liked those boots. I can carry you to the car, and then we’ll buy new ones, alright?”
But the little girl just looked at him like he’d suggested flying home through magic powers. “What? No. I can fix it.”
“How?” He quickly realized just how when the child pulled a roll of duct tape from her bag, yanked a stretch of tape out with a zinging sound, and wrapped it around her sole and her boot. She repeated the action twice more, wiggled her foot to check her handiwork, and deemed it appropriate when only the front toe of the sole flapped in the air.
“Alright, let’s go!” She cheered, shoving the tape back in her bag and trekking forward.
“Do you always carry that on you?” Miles asked, catching up from the baffling display he’d just witnessed.
“Of course. We call it sole support.”
“We?” Edgeworth grimaced, already knowing who the other half of this duo was.
“Yeah. Don’t worry, though, I don’t keep it like this. When I get home, Daddy’ll superglue it back together.”
“Right, superglue.” Edgeworth wondered how many times Trucy’s shoes had been revived from the dead. Something in his heart tugged, halfway between irritation and guilt. Irritation that Phoenix hadn’t simply asked Edgeworth for money to buy Trucy new shoes.
Edgeworth understood that they couldn’t share expenses as a normal couple might, given the potential “dangers” of being associated with a disbarred attorney such as Phoenix (Edgeworth still didn’t understand those dangers, but it had been one of Phoenix’ conditions to getting secretly dating in the first place. At least until Phoenix or Edgeworth or some combination of the two of them could clear Phoenix’ name). But Edgeworth had promised to take care of the two of them. But he couldn’t do that if Phoenix didn’t tell him when they needed taking care of.
Which is where the guilt came in, jingling miserably in a jester’s costume. Edgeworth shouldn’t have needed to be told. He should have noticed his daughter wore the same pair of shoes every time they left the house. He should have noticed her socks had been stitched and re-stitched together in multi-colored thread.
“Mein hase?” He asked, trying to suppress the messy soup of emotions in his voice.
“Ja Papa? Was geht ab?” She asked. Her German accent was quite good, one of the many things about her Miles was incredibly proud of.
“How would you like to go on a shopping spree?”
“But we just went shopping yesterday?” She furrowed her brow. “We got groceries for my bake sale.”
“No, not like that. For new clothes and toys.”
“And magic tricks?” Her eyes lit up.
Edgeworth shrugged, “I suppose. Anything you’d like.”
Before her delight could spread too far, she seemed to collect herself. “But would Daddy be ok with it?”
“Hmm,” It was unfortunate how insightful the ten year old could be. It wouldn’t be fair of Edgeworth to spoil Trucy without consulting Phoenix first. He wasn’t physically with them often enough to tell the man how to raise his daughter. “I’ll call him.”
So he rung Phoenix from the shade of a tree in the park they’d been walking in, while Trucy swung from a branch.
“Miles?”
“Were you asleep? I’m sorry to wake you.” He said, detecting the gruffness in the man’s voice. Phoenix hadn’t gotten home until four am last night, with grunted apologies and a complaint about some sore loser he’d had to deal with.
“No, I’m good. What’s up?”
“I was wondering…” he felt his heart race in his chest. With one breath, and another, he continued. “As we both well know, our daughter is an exemplary child, who has managed to maintain an above-average GPA while juggling a host of extracurriculars. Furthermore, she–”
“Miles, you’re lawyer-voicing me. What’s going on?” Phoenix said, laden with suspicion.
“Nothing!” Edgeworth’s voice jumped, and he quickly regained his composure. “I simply felt that these admirable achievements deserve to be spoiled every once in a while.”
“You didn’t give her ice cream for breakfast, right? I told you, I think she’s lactose intolerant.” Phoenix interrupted, dropping into a conspiratorial half-whisper.
“No, nothing of the sort. I wanted to take Trucy on a shopping spree, but I didn’t want to do it without your permission. I know finances can be…”
There was a long sigh on the other end of the line. Miles flexed and unflexed his hand, anticipation rising in his chest. Finally, Phoenix spoke. “She needed sole support, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, fine. But nothing crazy. We don’t have room for a pony.”
“Right.”
“And remember, Miles, she’s gonna grow out of everything you buy her in like, a month. So don’t buy her shirts woven from queen bee silk or anything insane like that.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you that bees don’t produce silk. But yes, understood.”
“And she’s going to ask for magic tricks, but she’s not allowed anything with swords or knives until she’s twelve.”
“Right. Although don’t you think fifteen is a more appropriate age?”
“If you want to re-negotiate that with her, be my guest. But just know, the last time I tried, I lost.”
“Twelve it is then. Thank you, my heart.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too.”
When he slid his phone back into his pocket, Trucy was grinning.
“Do you have something to say?” He arched a brow.
“You have a crush on Daddy. How embarrassing for you.”
Despite himself, Miles snorted, and captured the girl under his arm, squeezing her tight against himself.
“Come on, you little so and so.” And they headed off to where Miles’ immaculate red sports car was parked among the host of minivans ruined by gaudy bumper stickers touting statistically untrue facts about #1 students or soccer players or other childish accolades.
Trucy insisted on keeping her window down as they drove through the city, even on the freeways. So by the time they arrived at a glitzy half-outdoor mall, with Trucy’s hair a tangle of barrettes and wind-swept curls, her cheeks bright red from the cool wind.
“We’ll buy shoes first, and then from there I will follow your lead.” He explained, taking her hand in his.
“Right, Uncle Edgeworth.” His heart panned as she slipped into her “outside” performance. Another ridiculous condition of Phoenix’. The one Miles arguably hated the most.
Phoenix and Miles had sat down to explain to Trucy that the condition was in no way a reflection of Edgeworth’s willingness to be seen with her in public and known to be her father. He could not imagine a state of pride above what he felt for his daughter. Maudlin as it was, he’d even wept over a “worlds best dad” sweatshirt he saw in an airport gift shop. Franziska had laughed at him and called him a fool.
How far he’d fallen.
No, he reminded himself, how far he’d come.
While he still found small talk objectionable, and could spend hours at a time with no company, save for that of a cup of tea and a good book, affection (and the corresponding willingness to admit to affection) were no longer strangers.
Miles maintained regular text conversations with those important to him, even when there was nothing pressing to discuss. He found it endearing when a friend told rambling stories about meaningless information. He even greeted people with hugs. Granted, it was only five people (Trucy, Phoenix, Maya and Pearl Fey, and Franziska, if he was willing to face a potential whipping), but still. It was a far cry from the man who spent his adolescence dodging any and all social interactions.
“Do you think you’ll get a similar pair to your current shoes?” Miles asked, guiding them through the busy walkways.
“Mmm, I’m not sure. I’ll have to do a thorough investigation.”
Trucy was at an age where she could just barely fit into women’s shoes, so Miles took her to the second nicest store listed on the directory. He would have taken her to the nicest, but Phoenix would look up the price of everything he bought her when they got back, and so Edgeworth was already building a case for himself based on relative cost.
Trucy set her brow in a contemplative furrow, examining each of the boots on display.
“Remember,” he said. “Always check the materials. Opt for natural materials wherever possible. And vegan leather-“
“Is just plastic, which is arguably equally as bad for the planet. I know.”
“Good girl. I’m going to peruse the men’s section, if that’s alright with you.”
Phoenix didn’t have any need for dress shoes at the moment, but certainly there was a happy medium between formal dress shoes and the beat up sneakers he always wore. And Edgeworth intended to find just that.
He was inspecting a pair of white leather sneakers, wondering if the price was edging too close to quadruple digits to justify, when Trucy tugged on his sweater.
“I think I found a pair. Can you help me pick the right size?” She asked.
“Of course. Do you think your father would like these?” He said, handing her the display shoe.
She pursed her lips, eyes darting between the price tag and the shoe.
“Don’t worry about the price, I’ve built myself a solid defense.”
“Ok, then yes, he’d like them. Are you going to like when Daddy gets them all dirty?”
“You make a fair point. I’ll get them in black. Now come, let’s see what you’ve picked out.”
Trucy had a very practical eye, for a twelve year old. She’d selected something with a reasonable platform to give her half an inch of height while still being very comfortable, plain enough design to work with any outfit.
“They look very similar to your usual shoes. Are you sure?” He asked, eyeing the duct-taped shoes.
“White goes with everything! Besides, I’ve decided this style of boot is the best for hiding props.”
“Very well. Excuse me,” he said, getting an attendant’s attention. “Do you have this in a five? Or perhaps a 4.5?”
“Of course, I’ll check in the back. Why don’t you have a seat.”
“After this can we get boba?” Trucy asked as they waited.
“Of course.” He thought of Phoenix’s point about Trucy’s lactose intolerance. “Nothing too caffeinated or milky.”
“But I like milk tea.”
“And I don’t want to spend the rest of my afternoon waiting for you outside the bathroom.”
“Damn, Daddy told you?”
“Language.” He snipped. “And yes, he did.”
“Boo.” She sighed.
“Alright, here we are. Oh, sweetie, your shoes!” The attendant gasped as she observed the duct tape. “Good thing you’re getting new ones. Long overdue for a new pair.”
Edgeworth flinched as Trucy deflated.
“While it is time for an upgrade, I admire my niece for her resourcefulness and frugality. Both very important traits to develop at a young age.”
Trucy beamed up at him, while the attendant just looked confused.
“Now, Hase, how do they feel?”
Trucy hopped up from the bench, and toddled around the store for a bit. She tested the gap between her toe and the tip of the boot, and then the tightness of the leather around her calf.
“They feel good. They’re tight enough where cards won’t slip if I hide them there.”
“Excellent. Then we’ll take them. Do you want another pair? Perhaps something for special events?”
Trucy shook her head, though there was some hesitation.
“I told you, it’s my treat. Anything you want.”
“If that’s the case, maybe those?” She pointed to a pair of leather sneakers suspiciously similar to the ones Edgeworth had picked out for Phoenix. But these were ornamented in silver accents that popped against the black leather.
“Of course.” He turned to address the attendant. “We’ll take them in a five, if you have it in stock.”
After shoes and boba, Trucy took them to an electronics store, where she picked out a camera and tripod for recording tricks.
“I started uploading them to the internet,” she explained. “Though Daddy made me make all the videos private for now.”
“Good. Cyber safety is very important, you know.” Miles nodded.
Trucy rolled her eyes, “soo lame. Both you and Daddy.”
After clothes, a stuffed animal, a new puffy throw blanket for her room, and a knife-free magic trick, they stopped for lunch.
Trucy rambled on about some drama among the girls at school that she (thankfully) was on the periphery of, while Edgeworth slowly sipped a glass of wine.
It was a joy, he noted, to see her eyes light up with excitement and hands wave wildly around, almost knocking over her glass of lemonade. She was so endearing, so Phoenix-like in her earnestness, Edgeworth almost forgot that Trucy wasn’t Phoenix’ biological child. Though things like that hardly mattered.
After lunch, they bought candy that cost $10 per box, a deck of tarot cards that had gold foil accents, and some fuzzy slippers.
“Is there anything you want Uncle Edgeworth?” She asked as they re-consolidated the growing number boxes and bags.
“There’s nothing I need.” He said, stretching his back out. While his visits to the Wrights were the highlight of his days, the uncomfortable pull-out bed that Phoenix used was not entirely good for his back.
“What?” He asked, looking down at his daughter. She was chewing her bottom lip, her brows pinched in consternation.
“You really don’t want anything? Even though Daddy and I are both getting stuff?”
He bent, smoothing her hair from her face. “Mein Hase, I’m perfectly alright. Seeing you happy is all I need. And seeing your father in a pair of decent shoes. Speaking of, I would like to stop by the art store.”
“For Daddy?” She grinned.
“No, I’m going to quit my profession and become a starving artist,” he smirked.
“You’d never.” Trucy barked a laugh. “All those artist types are too loosey-goosey for you.” The girl was too insightful. He hoped she got it from him. Not that she could get anything from him. But still, some pathetic piece of him secretly wished she had noticed his knack for seeing through bluster and posturing and decided it was a trait worth emulating herself.
To his own shame, Edgeworth needed Trucy to tell him which brands of art supplies would be best. The world of luxury clothing, food, and furniture was Edgeworth’s expertise. Luxury art supplies? Completely foreign to him, if you didn’t count fountain pens.
“These ones are expensive but actually good. Daddy has a few pencils from them that he’s worn down to nubs.”
Edgeworth selected the biggest pack, and moved on.
“Oh!” Trucy jumped, “these too. They’re for me, for a trick.”
Trucy threw some specialty pens into the basket. They picked up a few more things for Phoenix, and headed to the cashier.
“Alright, Hase, I think it’s time to head home.” He said, taking his bags from the cashier at the art supplies store. But when he looked down, he realized Trucy was not by his side. He turned, scanning the store, but she was nowhere to be found.
His heart began to climb into his chest, while his stomach curdled in panic. He quickly scanned the store, striding down each aisle, but couldn’t find her.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, stopping a worker by the front. “You haven’t happened to have seen a little girl, brown hair and blue cape? She’s quite noticeable.”
Idiot. He was an idiot. What would he tell Phoenix? How would he even face Phoenix?
“Uh, sorry, I haven’t. Do you want me to call the security office? We can make an announcement over the mall speaker.”
Edgeworth swallowed his humiliation at the thought, and was about to plead for the clerk to do just that, when he saw a flash of blue fluttering fabric.
“I see her!” He cried, too loud. “Sorry, I mean, thank you.” And darted off.
He nearly collided with the girl as she made her way back to the store, wrapping her up in his arms.
“Mein Gott, Hase,” he heaved. “What happened, is everything ok?”
“Huh?” She looked up, brows furrowed. “I just went to the bathroom.”
“Without telling me? Trucy Wright, that was unbelievably foolish!” He cried, pulling her over to the side of the walkway, out of the pedestrian traffic.
“It was just across the hall!” She replied, her little voice canting up as she absorbed his own panic.
Edgeworth stepped back, and gulped down air, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Kannst du mir vergeben?” He asked, offering his hand to her.
“Immer, Papa.” She replied, lacing her fingers in his.
“Now let’s go home.” He said, squeezing her tight to him.
Phoenix was still in his pajamas as they arrived, nursing a cup of coffee as he prepared for his shift.
“Welcome back,” he yawned. “How was shopping?”
“Awesome! Look at my new boots!” Trucy cried, sweeping a leg up onto the dining room table with a theatrical flourish.
“Hase, no shoes on the table.” Miles tutted, though it was lost to dead ears as she launched into a rambling recounting of their day, showing off the things she bought, talking about her big plans to record her tricks.
“That’s great, Truce.” He said, and then added with a pointed look at Edgeworth, “you’re very lucky you have a Papa who is willing to spoil you so much.”
“Yeah, I am!” She cried, oblivious to the unspoken exchange. “I’m going to go work on my new tricks.”
And in a flurry of blue fabric and shopping bags, she was gone.
“Thanks for taking her.” Phoenix sighed, slumping onto a kitchen stool. “I feel awful about working nights on the weekend.”
“You needn’t apologize,” Edgeworth said, “spending time with Trucy is always a delight.”
He did mean it, but couldn’t help but feel that his words fell flat. After all, he’d nearly lost her earlier.
“What else did you get?” Phoenix asked, peering into the remaining bags on the counter. “Something for yourself?”
“Hm?” Miles threw a glance over his shoulder as he hung up his jacket. “No, those are for you.”
“Miles!” Phoenix scolded, pulling the shoebox out of the bag and rifling through the tissue paper within. “These are so expensive!”
“They are moderately priced. And Trucy isn’t the only one who needed new shoes.”
“Moderately priced for you is like my month’s rent. You know you don’t have to do this just because I’m broke now, right?”
Anticipating this, Edgeworth handed Phoenix his phone, pulled up to an email thread between Franziska and himself. “What’s this?”
“Read it,” Miles said, putting the candy they’d bought into the cupboard and taking out ingredients for dinner. “As you’ll see, I buy my sister a gift of her choosing every quarter. It is, apparently, my penance for having grown ‘soft’. She’s provided an annual sum at the bottom. Everything I bought for you and Trucy today is a fraction of the amount I spend on her. So if you continue to allege that my gifts are any form of pity for you or your financial situation, I will assume it is slander.”
“But I dont need fancy shoes.” Phoenix pressed.
“Yes, but you do deserve them. There’s more for you in the bag.”
“What,” Phoenix spluttered, diving back in and pulling out the art supplies. “Holy shit, how did you even know I wanted these?”
“Trucy told me. Now I won’t have you protesting. Phoenix, you may have forbidden me to offer financial assistance for any residential or educational costs, however you cannot prevent me from spending my money to ensure that two of the people I love most have clean, well-fitting clothes and can pursue their passions with all the tools they might require. Now, if you don’t mind, I have dinner to prepare, and you surely need to get ready for work.”
Suddenly, a pair of arms had wrapped Miles up in a gentle, yet tight embrace.
Phoenix rested his chin over Miles’ shoulder, scratching the former’s cheek with his stubble.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, my heart.”
"How did I get so lucky?”
“I wouldn’t consider it luck, so much as a series of well-meaning but incredibly foolhardy decisions.” Miles ribbed, pressing a kiss to Phoenix’s temple.
But as he moved, Phoenix adjusted and caught Edgeworth’s lips against his.
Miles’ whole body filled with incandescent joy. He would never tire of kissing Phoenix Wright. It had only been a few months since they’d gotten together, and the fact that they had still felt surreal.
Edgeworth set a hand on Phoenix’ cheek, brushing his fingertips through the hair at the man’s temple.
“I resent those allegations,” Phoenix said as he pulled away. “The decisions were a normal amount of foolish.”
“Debatable. Now please, allow me to cook, or we’ll have a very hungry and very whiny child on our hands.”
“Yes, chef.” Phoenix grinned, retreating to the corner of the cramped kitchen. “What else did you get?”
“Don’t worry, nothing else for you. I knew I was already pushing my luck.”
“Yeah, I know. But what about you?”
“Hm? Oh, I didn’t need anything.” Edgeworth waved it off.
“So you just treated Truce and me but didn’t get anything for yourself! Now I feel bad!”
“Giving you and Trucy gifts is better than anything I could have gotten myself.” He said, and then realized it was true.
He had always had expensive taste, and he did enjoy indulging, but recently he found the most gratifying purchases were ones he could share with someone else.
Booking the nicest hotel room in LA was lovely, but it was even better when he could see Phoenix’ reaction to the soft bed and deep bathtub.
Eating a fine meal was indulgent, but it was more satisfying when it was shared with Franziska, huddled together and quietly judging the ridiculous patrons around them.
Owning a sleek, fast car made Miles feel powerful, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to the one he felt when Trucy stuck her face out the window and squealed her excitement into the wind.
“You’re wonderful.” Phoenix smiled. “Corny, but wonderful. I’m just glad Truce didn’t cajole you into buying the sword thrower 5000.”
Edgeworth set the kitchen knife down, thinking of the residual panic from earlier, now simmering in his stomach.
With a sigh, he turned to face Phoenix. “My heart, I must be candid with you.”
“Oh my god, did you get the sword thrower 500?” Phoenix blanched.
“No!” Miles jumped, “Of course not. But, in truth, I nearly lost her today. At the mall.”
He paused, feeling the skin in his palms burn as he twisted the kitchen towel taught. He had to get everything out now, before his own cowardice overtook him. “She was beside me one moment, and then had entirely vanished in the next. She said she just went to the bathroom, but Phoenix I feel absolutely horrendous. Even though all ended well, I felt the need to be transparent with you.”
He paused, entirely body tensed as he waited for Phoenix to drop the guillotine. But instead, the man burst into laughter.
“Phoenix, this is no laughing matter!” Edgeworth protested, “my negligence in this instance is unacceptable.”
“Oh, hon,” Phoenix chuckled, trying to contain himself. “You’re alright. I know how scary it is when Truce wanders off like that, but it’s not your fault.”
“What? Of course it is.” Edgeworth gawked.
“Just because you’re a dad doesn’t mean you’ve gained ESP daughter-sensing abilities. Listen, I’ve lost Truce before in the park, in stores, hell, even in the apartment. She just sort of wanders off. I’ve told her it’s dangerous, but you know how she is.”
“But it’s different for me.” Edgeworth said, feeling his neck grow hot.
“Huh?” Phoenix wrinkled his nose. “How is it different when I lose Trucy?”
“It just is!” He said it with more force than he meant, and Phoenix reeled back a bit from the outburst.
“Miles, we both know that’s not a good reason. It wouldn’t hold up in court.”
“I just – Phoenix, you’re so good at this. Yes, you’ve put in so much time and sacrifice and work to ensure Trucy has a safe and happy home, but the instincts seem to come to you naturally. Meanwhile, I’m hardly here. My only contribution is financial, and when I’m given the slightest actual responsibility, I fail! Given this, what claim could I possibly have to being her father?”
Phoenix, eyes wide with shock, opened his mouth to speak, when the door to the kitchen opened with a bang.
“Papa! It’s not your fault!” Trucy wailed, barreling into Edgeworth. He immediately dropped to his knees, clutching the girl with shaking hands. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, no, mein Hase, it’s not your fault.” He cooed, stroking her hair.
“But it is! I, I-” She tried to speak, but her voice quickly went gummy with sobs.
“It's alright, I'm here,” Miles rocked her gently as she cried, waiting for her to subside. Phoenix knelt beside them, keeping one hand on her arm, the other on the small of Miles’ back.
When the girl had finally composed herself, she spoke through snotty nose, “I intentionally snuck away from you, Papa.”
“What?” Phoenix gaped. “Trucy!”
“I thought I’d be faster, and it was my only opportunity, and I didn’t think about how worried you’d be.”
“But why, darling? I promise I won’t be mad.” Edgeworth said, reaching out to wipe a tear away.
“You were getting me all these nice things, and you said you didn’t need anything, and I wanted to return the favor. So I got you this,” she sniffled, producing a box from her bag.
Edgeworth took it, inspecting the label. It was clearly from a tea store at the mall. The one where they’d gotten boba.
He opened it, pulling out a red shiny travel mug, with text in a hand-written cursive, reading “bester Papa der welt.”
“You made this for me?” He said, feeling his eyes sting.
“Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be a secret that you’re my Papa, but I wanted you to have something to bring with you as you travel. I hope the translation is ok. I’m sorry, Papa, I shouldn’t have snuck away.”
Edgeworth wanted to say something, about how the translation was perfect, or about how this was the best gift he’d ever received, but all he could do was let out a single, pathetic sob.
“Papa, what’s wrong?” Trucy blanched. He threw his arms around her, pulling the girl into a bone-crushing hug. And then Trucy’s tears began anew.
“Alright, there, there.” Phoenix sighed, wrapping his arms around both of them. “You cry babies.”
“Shut up.” Trucy sniffled. “You cry more than both of us combined.”
Finally, when he could speak, Edgeworth sat back on the kitchen floor, smoothing Trucy’s hair out of her face. “I love you very much. Thank you, mein Hase.”
“I love you too, Papa.” She hiccuped.
“I’m sorry you had to hear me say those things.”
Trucy stepped back out of his arms, a petulant pout on her lips. “I’m sorry you said those things! How dare you say such mean, untrue things about my Papa.”
Edgeworth blinked, stunned into momentary silence by her outburst. “You don’t wish I was present more often?”
“I mean,” she mumbled. “Yeah, I wish you were here all the time, but you’re doing important work, and so is Daddy. I know that.”
“Just because you know it, doesn’t mean you have to like it. You’re allowed to be sad about it, Truce.” Phoenix said, as the hand on Miles’ back tensed.
“So long as it’s not forever.” She said, nuzzling into Phoenix.
The man looked over her head at Miles, a bittersweet smile playing at his lips. “It won’t be, I promise.”
“Alright,” Edgeworth took one last shaky sigh, expelling the last of the tears that rattled around his chest. “I suppose I should finish dinner. And you need to get ready for work.”
“Are you sure? We can order.” Phoenix asked, concern brewing in his blue-grey eyes.
“No, it’s perfectly fine. Although, darling, perhaps you could brew me a cup of tea in my new mug?” He asked.
Trucy beamed, springing to her feet and moving in a flurry of barely contained excitement. Edgeworth wished he could shake off sadness as easily as she.
Phoenix ambled into the shower while Trucy prepared tea - making it exactly the way Edgeworth liked.
“Wunderbar,” he pronounced upon taking his first sip.
“Papa, you’re making it too spicy.” She whined, watching as he added spices to the dish.
“Not you too. Paprika isn’t spicy, it’s flavor. I love your father, but he has the palette of a child. It’s my duty to make sure you have better taste. Now go set the table, please.”
“Ok Papa.” She said, hopping down from the counter.
Edgeworth spent the majority of his time traveling, bouncing between short-term rentals and hotels, many of which didn’t have a proper kitchen. Not that the tiny apartment Phoenix and Trucy lived in had a proper kitchen either. But Miles felt at home in this kitchen. He knew where the spices were kept, which burner was broken, and how hot the oven actually was.
His heavy heart eased as he cooked, as Trucy set the table, before scampering off deeper into the apartment.
“Hmm, that looks interesting.” Phoenix said as he reappeared from the bathroom, clad in a raggedy t-shirt that clung to his biceps. Lugging boxes full of magic tricks around had clearly left its mark on Phoenix’ physique. Miles tried to force his attention back to the cooking. How would he explain to Trucy that he burnt dinner because he was ogling her father?
“It’s healthy and perfectly seasoned, so I’ll hear nothing from you.”
“Of course not, wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss.
Miles relinquished his hold on the pan, opting instead to wrap his arms around Phoenix, hugging the man flush to him. Miles could still feel pricks of water that clung to his back and seeped through the thin cotton of his shirt.
Phoenix cupped Edgeworth’s cheek, tilting his head up and coaxing his mouth open.
“My heart,” he whispered, breathless and gasping. “Trucy might see.”
“I’ll take the gamble,” Phoenix hushed, nipping at Miles’ bottom lip.
The former attorney leaned into Miles, planting kisses down his chin, then along the column of his neck.
Miles swallowed a moan as it bubbled up from his chest. Phoenix was the risk taker. Not him.
“Papa!” Trucy called, rounding the corner with barely enough time for Phoenix to step away. Edgeworth’s arms were still wrapped around him as she appeared in the kitchen.
“Gross.” She wrinkled her nose at the sight, as tame as it was. “Papa, I just saw that there’s going to be a Steel Samurai marathon on TV later tonight. Can we watch?”
“If all your homework is done,” he coughed, gently extracting himself from Phoenix. “Then yes.”
“Awesome! Also, is something burning?” She sniffed.
Phoenix chuckled as he retreated, while Edgeworth scrambled to rescue his meal, his cheeks deep scarlet.
After dinner, Phoenix tugged on jacket and prepared for work.
“Are those your new shoes, Daddy?” Trucy called from the dinner table. Miles sat beside her, reading over some frankly befuddling math homework. He had gotten all As in school (as if anything lesser would have been permitted at the von Karma household), but middle school math was merely a ghost of a memory now.
“Uh, yeah. I guess they are.” Phoenix said, a dusting of rose across his cheeks.
Miles smirked, “they look good. I trust they fit well?”
“Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew my shoe size. But somehow I still am. Alright, Truce, don’t stay up too late.”
“Be safe,” Miles and Trucy chorused at the same time, as Phoenix Wright headed into the evening.
After homework, Trucy helped do dishes and set up the murphy bed in the living room. Miles had offered, approximately one hundred times, to help Phoenix pay for a two bedroom apartment. But the man always refused, with some claim of it being unbelievable and too easy to trace back. So instead Miles just paid for a high quality mattress (in cash), and argued it was for his own sake.
As he and Trucy prepared for bed - both of them going through the same nighttime skin routine - she filled the space with meaningless chatter.
Clad in pajamas (Miles in a matching silk set, Trucy in a ratty old shirt that had belonged to her father and a pair of flannel pants) the pair curled up in the bed and watched TV. Both had seen the entire show multiple times, so rewatches consisted of repeated facts about the production of the show, or thoughts on particularly exciting moments.
Eventually, Miles noticed Trucy’s small weight had settled on his shoulder, and he looked down to discover the girl had nodded off.
Quietly, slowly, he turned the TV and lights off and settled down beside her.
In the dark, with the only sound that of the girl’s gentle breathing, it was easy to drift off.
At some point – Miles couldn’t pinpoint when – he was awoken to a quiet shuffling beside him.
“It’s just me, sweetheart.” Phoenix cooed, lifting Trucy from the bed. “Let me put her in her room.”
Edgeworth rolled over, checking the clock through squinted eyes. Two am. Earlier than usual, still far too late.
“How was work?” He asked, as Phoenix returned to the living room.
“I’m close.” He grunted, stripping down to his underwear. “He’s going to slip up.”
Miles sat up, trying to shake the grogginess from his mind. Phoenix’s voice had gone gruff and low, and Edgeworth snapped to attention.
“Really?” He asked, as the other man crashed into bed.
“Yeah,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I’m almost there. The pieces are starting to come together, I just need to get a little bit closer.”
“Do you want to review?” Miles asked, surveying Phoenix’ darkened profile.
“Nah, it’s late, and I don’t want to think about it more.”
“Alright. But, my heart, please be careful. For Trucy’s sake. And for mine.”
The distant look in the former attorney’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly he was present. Tired, concerned, but present.
“I will be.”
Miles sunk back down into bed, wrapping his arms around his lover.
“When this is all over,” Phoenix said, nuzzling his head into the crook of Miles’ neck. “Can you buy us a nice two bedroom apartment? One with big closets for all of Trucy’s magic tricks.”
“Apartment? You’re thinking too small. For you and Trucy, I would buy a mansion.” Miles smiled, and then pressed a kiss into Phoenix’s hair.
“We don’t need all that.” He chuckled, and the sound reverberated in the hollow of Miles’ chest.
“Yes,” Miles continued, feeling calm settle over him. This is where he was meant to be. In Phoenix’s arms, with his daughter sleeping soundly in the other room. “But you do deserve it.”