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So.
I've been mainlining Phoenix Wright games for the last week or so, now. Don't get me wrong; I'd had the first one for a while, you see. But it didn't really hit me how utterly awesome Phoenix, Maya, Edgeworth, and Gumshoe all were until the third case or so. So, I devoured the last two cases on the first game, then dived straight into Justice For All. I spent most of the second game...shouting at my DS. Great and terrible were the shoutings, because I was having /that/ much fun.
And, man, the last case on the second game is a killer. How does a largely silly game like Phoenix Wright manage to come up with the kind of villain that can make you laugh even while chills are running up and down your spine? But then, I'm a sucker for polite evil.
Anyway. Fanfic, set directly after the last case of the second game and with spoilers for that case. Not slash, although you could probably see it if you wanted to. That's...just the way those two are.
Viola Hall was very nearly empty, although you couldn't tell that with your eyes closed. Maya and Pearl's voices were plenty loud enough on their own, and when you added Lotta's nasal Southern accent rising above the rest...well, one would be forgiven for thinking that there was still a murder investigation in full swing. Or possibly a riot. The food was good, Phoenix reflected, and considering that he was apparently footing the bill for the whole group, it had better be. And Lotta's new camera. How did THAT happen, anyway? It's not like I had anything to do with her losing the damned thing in the first place. Well, she had been helpful this time. Probably not $3000 worth of helpful, but...
His thoughts were interrupted as Edgeworth stood and made his goodbyes, his dinner untouched. Out of all of them, the prosecutor was the only one who looked as if he belonged in the ostentatious hotel dining hall; his red jacket and old-fashioned cravat actually harmonized with the gold and lace of the decor. Phoenix privately wondered if it was an actual law that prosecutors, or at least the good ones, had to dress like escapees from a Regency fantasy; he didn't dare ask, and certainly not while Edgeworth held Franzsika's whip. Still, this was the kind of setting Edgeworth seemed to belong in, and yet it was the prosecutor who, as always, was moving away.
"Nick? Hey, Nick, where are you going?" Phoenix gave Maya a blank look, only just realizing that he'd risen from the table and not yet sat back down. The teenager's face was swollen, bruised with lack of sleep and food. But her smile lights up the whole room; Maya, I'm so glad you're safe. The thought reminded him of another, the thing that had been bugging him since the adrenaline from the trial had worn off. His eyes moved back to the prosecutor's broad back, as it retreated into the lobby.
"Uh, I'm going to walk Edgeworth to his car. Be right back."
"Great idea, pal!" Gumshoe broke in before Maya could even nod, the detective's bandaged face spreading into a sheepish grin. He thrust a covered plate into Phoenix's hands. "Take Mr. Edgeworth this; dinner is the most important meal of the day, you know!"
"I...thought that was breakfast."
"Uh...huh." Gumshoe's expression clouded as he thought. "Maybe it is. Just take it to him, pal." Phoenix glanced under the napkin covering it; a quick peak revealed slices of duck breast, some sort of rich paste that (if he remembered correctly) cost about ten dollars an ounce, and yep, escargot. Which Pearl also had seemed to discover a love of; the little girl was wolfing down the rest of the order, a sight which made him nearly groan. Just my luck that she'd have expensive tastes. At least Maya is sticking to the burgers, even if they are made of prime rib.
He did allow himself a sigh, gave a quick nod to Gumshoe, and cradled the plate in both hands as he hurried after Edgeworth. He caught up to the prosecutor in the parking lot, the warm glow of the Gatewater Hotel against their backs, although Edgeworth's face was in shadow. "Hey! Wait up."
Edgeworth paused without turning around. Just the slightest incline of his head as Phoenix pulled up beside him. "Wright. Is there something else?"
The question--or was it a complaint--died in Phoenix's throat in the face of the prosecutor's cool reserve. Despite the fact that he'd just trusted the man with Maya's life, and had that trust vindicated, Phoenix still didn't feel he knew the 'new' Miles Edgeworth any better than he'd known the old. In the last three days, they might have had more conversations, real conversations, than at any point previously in their lives, but he still hadn't figured out what those words really meant. If they meant anything at all. Finally, he pushed the plate out, towards Edgeworth's hands. "Here."
The faintest curl of Edgeworth's lip. "Wright, how...thoughtful. You have a promising career as a delivery boy before you, if you should ever choose to turn in your badge."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." Phoenix shook his head. "Gumshoe wanted you to have it. Since you didn't eat anything, and dinner is the most important meal of the day."
"...I thought that was breakfast." Phoenix grinned, shrugged. Edgeworth turned his head a little more, warm light bathing one side of his face and the other drowning in shadows. He took the plate gingerly. "I see." The prosecutor's tone was noncommittal. They stood in a hum of white noise as the sound of vehicles on the nearby freeway filled the space between the two men. Finally, Edgeworth cleared his throat. "If that is all, Wright, then I really do have work to do. You might be surprised at the amount of paperwork a year off will accumulate. Good night."
Talk first, think later. That's the Wright way."Hold it!"
Edgeworth actually froze, mid-step, but only for a moment. With an irritable twitch of his lips, he completed the step with deliberate slowness, and turned to face Phoenix, one eyebrow raised.
Phoenix bit his lower lip, gathering his nerve. Edgeworth is nowhere near as scary as De Killer. You cross-examined him, so you can do this. Right? Right. "Why?" The word was a blurt of sound. Edgeworth's eyebrow rose a fraction higher, but before he could ask, the defense attorney continued, "Even after you knew about Maya's situation, you still...it still took everything I had just to keep the case dragging on for long enough. You knew what would happen if we got a Guilty verdict! Why?" And you were insulting about it, too. He didn't add that, of course. Even to him, it was a childish complaint.
Edgeworth seemed to hear the unspoken final sentence, and his lips curved into a smile that was at least half smirk. He balanced the plate in one hand, and raised the other to tap mockingly on his temple. "Wright, despite your success in the courtroom, I sometimes despair of your ability to actually think." He heaved a melodramatic sigh, then continued, "Very well. Let me walk you through this. I had three reasons. For the record, three would be the number after two."
"Edgeworth."
"Just trying to be helpful." More than half a smirk, now, and Phoenix could feel himself coloring.
"Look, forget I asked."
"Overruled. Be quiet and attempt to listen, if you would. The first reason is simple, and I suspect that even you would come up with it, after some consideration. I had to assume that De Killer had at least one confederate in the courtroom, and likely more, relaying information on the progress of the trial." An image of Engarde, that stupid wrist-phone everything but glued to his mouth, flashed through Phoenix's mind. Edgeworth caught the other man's grimace, and nodded. "Precisely. Someone arranged for De Killer to know which name to drop, and when to call, after all. Had said confederate suspected that I knew of the situation, much less that I was collaborating to buy time, they would have informed De Killer. If he had even a touch more suspicion that you were planning to default on your end of the bargain, do you really believe he would have refrained from doing harm to Miss Fey?"
"Yeah, okay. But," and Phoenix was ashamed to admit it, but this was the heart of the complaint, as juvenile as it was, "you didn't have to be so harsh about it."
Edgeworth's smile widened, and finally reached his eyes. "Of course I did. And that brings me to the second reason. You have proved yourself, time and again, incapable of any level of professional detachment."
"Hey!"
"Thus," he continued, not even acknowledging the outburst, or the glare Phoenix was giving him, "you needed something to replace your usual motivation. You could not believe in your client, and you could not trust De Killer's word. If I had not hit you 'with both barrels', as I believe the saying goes, you would have collapsed half-way through the trial under the weight of your sheer, stubborn honesty."
"That's not true!" Edgeworth just stared at Phoenix, the expression of disbelief all the more cutting because it was so...polite. "Damn it, Edgeworth. I would have stuck it out for Maya. You didn't have to be that rude about it." Wait. There's a contradiction in that testimony! He jabbed his finger at the other man's chest, stopping just sort of the fabric. "And may I direct your attention to the fact that, although Maya is fine and safe, and we're not in court, you're still being an ass."
"And that brings me to my third reason," Edgeworth replied, lifting his shoulders into a shrug. "You can take it." Phoenix blinked. "Whatever I throw at you, you will rise against in equal measure or even exceed. Holding back would have been an insult graver than any of words I actually used. I respect you far too much to do such a thing." As Phoenix gaped at him, Edgeworth glanced away, down to the covered plate, then over to his sports car. Red, of course. "And now, I really must return to the office. I trust that your concerns have been adequately addressed?"
What did one say to that, anyway? "I...yeah. Thanks, Edgeworth." The man nodded, and strode away, appearing to put the conversation behind him as soon as his back was turned. Phoenix stood and watched him climb into the car. It was only as the purr of the engine momentarily eclipsed the sound of cars farther away that he realized something. I...think I just gave Edgeworth permission to insult me whenever he wants. "Edgeworth!"
The winking of the tail-lights was his only answer.
I've been mainlining Phoenix Wright games for the last week or so, now. Don't get me wrong; I'd had the first one for a while, you see. But it didn't really hit me how utterly awesome Phoenix, Maya, Edgeworth, and Gumshoe all were until the third case or so. So, I devoured the last two cases on the first game, then dived straight into Justice For All. I spent most of the second game...shouting at my DS. Great and terrible were the shoutings, because I was having /that/ much fun.
And, man, the last case on the second game is a killer. How does a largely silly game like Phoenix Wright manage to come up with the kind of villain that can make you laugh even while chills are running up and down your spine? But then, I'm a sucker for polite evil.
Anyway. Fanfic, set directly after the last case of the second game and with spoilers for that case. Not slash, although you could probably see it if you wanted to. That's...just the way those two are.
Viola Hall was very nearly empty, although you couldn't tell that with your eyes closed. Maya and Pearl's voices were plenty loud enough on their own, and when you added Lotta's nasal Southern accent rising above the rest...well, one would be forgiven for thinking that there was still a murder investigation in full swing. Or possibly a riot. The food was good, Phoenix reflected, and considering that he was apparently footing the bill for the whole group, it had better be. And Lotta's new camera. How did THAT happen, anyway? It's not like I had anything to do with her losing the damned thing in the first place. Well, she had been helpful this time. Probably not $3000 worth of helpful, but...
His thoughts were interrupted as Edgeworth stood and made his goodbyes, his dinner untouched. Out of all of them, the prosecutor was the only one who looked as if he belonged in the ostentatious hotel dining hall; his red jacket and old-fashioned cravat actually harmonized with the gold and lace of the decor. Phoenix privately wondered if it was an actual law that prosecutors, or at least the good ones, had to dress like escapees from a Regency fantasy; he didn't dare ask, and certainly not while Edgeworth held Franzsika's whip. Still, this was the kind of setting Edgeworth seemed to belong in, and yet it was the prosecutor who, as always, was moving away.
"Nick? Hey, Nick, where are you going?" Phoenix gave Maya a blank look, only just realizing that he'd risen from the table and not yet sat back down. The teenager's face was swollen, bruised with lack of sleep and food. But her smile lights up the whole room; Maya, I'm so glad you're safe. The thought reminded him of another, the thing that had been bugging him since the adrenaline from the trial had worn off. His eyes moved back to the prosecutor's broad back, as it retreated into the lobby.
"Uh, I'm going to walk Edgeworth to his car. Be right back."
"Great idea, pal!" Gumshoe broke in before Maya could even nod, the detective's bandaged face spreading into a sheepish grin. He thrust a covered plate into Phoenix's hands. "Take Mr. Edgeworth this; dinner is the most important meal of the day, you know!"
"I...thought that was breakfast."
"Uh...huh." Gumshoe's expression clouded as he thought. "Maybe it is. Just take it to him, pal." Phoenix glanced under the napkin covering it; a quick peak revealed slices of duck breast, some sort of rich paste that (if he remembered correctly) cost about ten dollars an ounce, and yep, escargot. Which Pearl also had seemed to discover a love of; the little girl was wolfing down the rest of the order, a sight which made him nearly groan. Just my luck that she'd have expensive tastes. At least Maya is sticking to the burgers, even if they are made of prime rib.
He did allow himself a sigh, gave a quick nod to Gumshoe, and cradled the plate in both hands as he hurried after Edgeworth. He caught up to the prosecutor in the parking lot, the warm glow of the Gatewater Hotel against their backs, although Edgeworth's face was in shadow. "Hey! Wait up."
Edgeworth paused without turning around. Just the slightest incline of his head as Phoenix pulled up beside him. "Wright. Is there something else?"
The question--or was it a complaint--died in Phoenix's throat in the face of the prosecutor's cool reserve. Despite the fact that he'd just trusted the man with Maya's life, and had that trust vindicated, Phoenix still didn't feel he knew the 'new' Miles Edgeworth any better than he'd known the old. In the last three days, they might have had more conversations, real conversations, than at any point previously in their lives, but he still hadn't figured out what those words really meant. If they meant anything at all. Finally, he pushed the plate out, towards Edgeworth's hands. "Here."
The faintest curl of Edgeworth's lip. "Wright, how...thoughtful. You have a promising career as a delivery boy before you, if you should ever choose to turn in your badge."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." Phoenix shook his head. "Gumshoe wanted you to have it. Since you didn't eat anything, and dinner is the most important meal of the day."
"...I thought that was breakfast." Phoenix grinned, shrugged. Edgeworth turned his head a little more, warm light bathing one side of his face and the other drowning in shadows. He took the plate gingerly. "I see." The prosecutor's tone was noncommittal. They stood in a hum of white noise as the sound of vehicles on the nearby freeway filled the space between the two men. Finally, Edgeworth cleared his throat. "If that is all, Wright, then I really do have work to do. You might be surprised at the amount of paperwork a year off will accumulate. Good night."
Talk first, think later. That's the Wright way."Hold it!"
Edgeworth actually froze, mid-step, but only for a moment. With an irritable twitch of his lips, he completed the step with deliberate slowness, and turned to face Phoenix, one eyebrow raised.
Phoenix bit his lower lip, gathering his nerve. Edgeworth is nowhere near as scary as De Killer. You cross-examined him, so you can do this. Right? Right. "Why?" The word was a blurt of sound. Edgeworth's eyebrow rose a fraction higher, but before he could ask, the defense attorney continued, "Even after you knew about Maya's situation, you still...it still took everything I had just to keep the case dragging on for long enough. You knew what would happen if we got a Guilty verdict! Why?" And you were insulting about it, too. He didn't add that, of course. Even to him, it was a childish complaint.
Edgeworth seemed to hear the unspoken final sentence, and his lips curved into a smile that was at least half smirk. He balanced the plate in one hand, and raised the other to tap mockingly on his temple. "Wright, despite your success in the courtroom, I sometimes despair of your ability to actually think." He heaved a melodramatic sigh, then continued, "Very well. Let me walk you through this. I had three reasons. For the record, three would be the number after two."
"Edgeworth."
"Just trying to be helpful." More than half a smirk, now, and Phoenix could feel himself coloring.
"Look, forget I asked."
"Overruled. Be quiet and attempt to listen, if you would. The first reason is simple, and I suspect that even you would come up with it, after some consideration. I had to assume that De Killer had at least one confederate in the courtroom, and likely more, relaying information on the progress of the trial." An image of Engarde, that stupid wrist-phone everything but glued to his mouth, flashed through Phoenix's mind. Edgeworth caught the other man's grimace, and nodded. "Precisely. Someone arranged for De Killer to know which name to drop, and when to call, after all. Had said confederate suspected that I knew of the situation, much less that I was collaborating to buy time, they would have informed De Killer. If he had even a touch more suspicion that you were planning to default on your end of the bargain, do you really believe he would have refrained from doing harm to Miss Fey?"
"Yeah, okay. But," and Phoenix was ashamed to admit it, but this was the heart of the complaint, as juvenile as it was, "you didn't have to be so harsh about it."
Edgeworth's smile widened, and finally reached his eyes. "Of course I did. And that brings me to the second reason. You have proved yourself, time and again, incapable of any level of professional detachment."
"Hey!"
"Thus," he continued, not even acknowledging the outburst, or the glare Phoenix was giving him, "you needed something to replace your usual motivation. You could not believe in your client, and you could not trust De Killer's word. If I had not hit you 'with both barrels', as I believe the saying goes, you would have collapsed half-way through the trial under the weight of your sheer, stubborn honesty."
"That's not true!" Edgeworth just stared at Phoenix, the expression of disbelief all the more cutting because it was so...polite. "Damn it, Edgeworth. I would have stuck it out for Maya. You didn't have to be that rude about it." Wait. There's a contradiction in that testimony! He jabbed his finger at the other man's chest, stopping just sort of the fabric. "And may I direct your attention to the fact that, although Maya is fine and safe, and we're not in court, you're still being an ass."
"And that brings me to my third reason," Edgeworth replied, lifting his shoulders into a shrug. "You can take it." Phoenix blinked. "Whatever I throw at you, you will rise against in equal measure or even exceed. Holding back would have been an insult graver than any of words I actually used. I respect you far too much to do such a thing." As Phoenix gaped at him, Edgeworth glanced away, down to the covered plate, then over to his sports car. Red, of course. "And now, I really must return to the office. I trust that your concerns have been adequately addressed?"
What did one say to that, anyway? "I...yeah. Thanks, Edgeworth." The man nodded, and strode away, appearing to put the conversation behind him as soon as his back was turned. Phoenix stood and watched him climb into the car. It was only as the purr of the engine momentarily eclipsed the sound of cars farther away that he realized something. I...think I just gave Edgeworth permission to insult me whenever he wants. "Edgeworth!"
The winking of the tail-lights was his only answer.
From:
no subject
I want Phoenix Wright for the iPhone...
From:
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But can you shout HOLD IT! at an iPhone?
From:
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And of course you can shout HOLD IT at the iPhone! Or OBJECTION! Hee hee hee.