#[[ Reason and Rationale

[oodlyenough]

alright i finished aai1-4 (aka turnabout reminiscence... i think... all the turnabout ep titles blur into mush in my brain. case number supremacy). the existence of a case featuring baby franziska and bratworth was like a solid 60% of the reason i played this game to begin with, and it was indeed my fave case so far by a mile. the miles + franziska interactions and callisto yew were worth the price of admission.

i loved having franziska around as the weirdgirl and, like i said in a previous post, i thought being thirteen made her writing here a lot more believable and funny than in the earlier case where you're theoretically dealing with a post-trilogy adult. i thought the (relatively one-sided) hypercompetitive relationship between her and edgeworth was hilarious and this little kid running around being a total menace was like. yeah. that checks out. lmao.

yeah man why did you think she was here?

also, as a fic writer eternally fixated on what characters call each other, especially in a franchise where everyone has a custom nickname lol, i thought it was interesting that while both adult and baby franziska use 'miles' and 'miles edgeworth', baby franziska defaults to 'miles' most of the time while adult franziska uses his full name most of the time. i could get a whole fic out of that, your brain is fascinating franziska ilu

callisto rules. i knew from vague fandom context she would be the villain but I did not know she would extend beyond this one case, so i'm excited. aside from being funny as fuck i am genuinely interested in her motives as well, she is clearly aware of corruption on the prosecution side but it remains to be seen how much she actually ... cares about that... vs how much is personal vendetta (for her sister?) vs whatever agenda of her own. presumably she was lying about being the yatagarasu? anyway. interested to see that develop

queen shit, drag him

edgeworth's writing... i don't know. i can understand the rationale of not wanting to make the player sit through a case of him being a corrupt douchebag. but the result was that I found only nominal difference between how they wrote this 20 y/o jackass and how they write adult edgeworth in the other cases. which i think rather undermines his trilogy arc. I don't know that I really believe Bratworth turning things upside down to clear Gumshoe's name, instead of pushing for the easy conviction and moving on. am I supposed to believe that this happened and then he just... stopped doing that for the rest of his career up until aa1. like this is great and all but he's about to run a clusterfuck of a trial against terry fawles where he definitely did not Find The Truth lmao

cheer up man the next one is way worse

lastly on a more positive note i'm continually surprised and entertained how every case has different women of different demographics flirting with edgeworth and he is continually either baffled or horrified by it. i guess i figured without phoenix being around in these games they'd ease up on the gay subtext. they have not.

unfortunately this means it's time for the last case, and all i ever hear about it is that it's long and tedious. hooray! at the pace i'm going i'll be lucky to complete aai2 before the new trilogy in january, so i guess TGAA will be my palette cleanser after SOJ... which is maybe for the best anyway.

[caffeinated-yearning]

I know they picked up the *grabs at arm* trait from Mr. Von Karma but also they’re both. I love them so much I am going to be so fucking friend-shaped to them

[sage-nebula]

wright/edgeworth

THE BEST ACE ATTORNEY SHIP.

There are all of the obvious reasons to be pulled toward this ship---all of the obvious ship teases between them, from suggestive lines like Edgeworth’s infamous “unnecessary feelings” line, to the fact that Phoenix literally chose his career just because Edgeworth wouldn’t talk to him, and he knew that Edgeworth would have to talk to him in court. That is Extra™, even for Phoenix. But outside of all of the ship tease, the suggestions, and the parallels that exist within the series---outside of all of that, I think what you have at the end of the day is two characters who are, undoubtedly, each other’s equals, and who complement each other in such a way that they do make each other better.

To begin with, they are equals. Phoenix is a defense attorney while Edgeworth is a prosecutor. Although Edgeworth does make more money and has more “power” than Phoenix in the courtroom (in the sense that the cases are always weighted to favor the prosecution), that doesn’t directly affect Phoenix. Phoenix doesn’t have to answer to Edgeworth. To be honest, he doesn’t even have to work with him, although he chooses to because they’re stronger together (something both of them think about and acknowledge time and again). They’re the same age, so there isn’t an issue of power imbalance due to an age gap. And though Phoenix obviously wanted to reach out to Edgeworth when he saw that Edgeworth was suffering, and though Edgeworth credits Phoenix (and only Phoenix) with having saved him from his trauma, it’s clear that neither one of them has hero worship hangups, either. They see each other for who they are, clearly and without obstruction. They see, acknowledge, accept, and love each other for who they are, regardless of anything else.

And this is important, because they both need an equal partner, someone who they don’t have to take care of without being taken care of in return. Both Phoenix and Edgeworth need support in different ways; Phoenix very often flies by the seat of his pants and doesn’t think things through beforehand, and the fact that he’s a defense attorney (and then a disbarred attorney, and then a return-from-the-ashes defense attorney again) means that he doesn’t have a lot of clout in the legal system, even and especially when things are stacked to deliberately bring him down. Phoenix is smart, compassionate, and capable, but a lot of his strength comes from the connections he has, and the people around him who think things through even when he does not. Edgeworth provides that for Phoenix. He grounds him, not in a restraining way, but in a way that keeps him tethered to reality and safety when he might otherwise run off and create a disaster. Similarly, however, Edgeworth needs Phoenix’s support, because although Edgeworth has the rationale and power needed to get things done, he has been completely alone for the longest time, and has been battling his inner demons and traumas in solitude. Phoenix reaches out to him and gives him the support he needs for this. He, in Edgeworth’s own perception, is the one that saves Edgeworth from that. And most importantly, he doesn’t coddle Edgeworth through this. Phoenix is not afraid to call Edgeworth on his nonsense, or to continue helping even when Edgeworth tries to shut him down. And vice versa, Edgeworth is always there to give the truth to Phoenix when needed. Again, the fact that they are equals allows them to give this much needed support to each other. They’re compassionate when they need to be (and that goes both ways---Phoenix says in AA6 that he wouldn’t have made it through 6-5 without Edgeworth’s support), but they’re also firm and truth-telling when they need to be, no holds barred. They’re there for each other in their darkest hours.

And again, that’s canon! Phoenix is the one who saved Edgeworth in 1-4, when Edgeworth would have certainly been sentenced to death otherwise. (Note: Maya helped as well by getting herself held in contempt by challenging Lotta so that the trial would be prolonged.) And we know thanks to 5-5 that Edgeworth continuously worked to help Phoenix get his badge back behind the scenes. When things are at their bleakest, Phoenix and Edgeworth fall back on each other. They’re there for each other, even when logic and reason (two of Edgeworth’s most prized tools!) say otherwise. We’ve seen this, time and again, in canon.

And they enjoy spending time with each other, too! We know that they go to Trucy’s magic shows together (5-5), meaning that they clearly enjoy spending time with each other outside of court. We know that Edgeworth is a closet Steel Samurai fan, showing us his goofier, dorkier side (among many other instances of that). They have things to bond over and enjoy together, meaning that their relationship isn’t all serious and drama all the time. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, even outside of that.

With all of this said, this is still very clearly a slow burn relationship---and I love that. I love it not only because it has to be (Edgeworth pulls his stupid “Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death” stunt right after 1-5, and then he’s in an out of the country for a long while after that), but also because it makes the most sense for both of these characters. Edgeworth has been emotionally closed off from others for so long that learning how to open up enough for friendships is new to him. He’s socially awkward because he was socially isolated, and this means that leaping right into a romantic relationship is not in his best interest. But this is great for Phoenix, who was severely burned (and dare I say traumatized) thanks to the Dahlia fiasco. Phoenix loved her, however foolishly, and yet she was willing to frame him for murder without a second thought. True, it was actually Iris that he was dating, but that doesn’t matter because he didn’t know that. He thought she was Dahlia. And I think that the entire experience with Dahlia soured and scarred him for a long time, so that during the time frame of the original trilogy, he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet either. (And then with everything that happens with his disbarment, well . . . I could see them beginning to seriously date starting with the second trilogy. It honestly might take them that long and, tbh, I’m okay with this. I approve it, even.)

Edgeworth/Phoenix was my first Ace Attorney ship and it remains my favorite. I think it’s the one with the most and best potential in the series, and I would be thrilled if Capcom would stop baiting and just make it canon already (especially since it would make Phoenix canonically bisexual, yeah boiiiii). No joke, if I could pick just one ship in the series to make canon, it would be this one, for real.

[caffeinated-yearning]

*Bounces to Lying Coldly for half an hour before bed*

[caffeinated-yearning]

Confessions and (Bad) Dancing

In which pieces of the puzzle slot into place, feelings are lain bare after a year of working together on cases, and some people are better at dancing than they have any right to be (but unfortunately I am not one of them).

Word Count: 2103 Warnings: uhhh aside from crippling embarrassment as a center-stage piece, none I can think of.

“Slow dance? No, sorry, I don’t know how.” It was ironic, the tone Mark used- but he was sincere; not for lack of trying, but a waltz was simply outside his dancing expertise. So was pretty much every dance step ever; he had never been very skilled with dance. I’ll step on your foot and scuff your shoes, or I’ll fall into you, or “it will be unsightly,” and that’s a promise. A low hum as the half-smile fell from something almost sincere into a flatter expression that looked more unyielding than it was.

Mark’s eyes remained on the offered hand, still outstretched as Mr. Edgeworth spoke; “I promise it’s easier than you think.” For one half-second, Mark actually considered it. Considered it carefully, from every angle- and from all perspectives foresaw himself getting embarrassed. Either through his own inexperience, or some comment thereupon. If nothing else, being that close to Miles- to Mr. Edgeworth would destroy the easy-going facade that he so carefully kept. A quick one-two and done, Mann overboard. 

Miles added, after a half-second of silence; “consider it a request; it has been a while since I’ve had the opportunity, and I can think of no one I’d rather share it with.”

…

What?

Operation ‘try not to think gay thoughts’ has been blasted wide the fuck open, and all smashed to smithereens; what does that mean? What does that mean?! Dumbstruck, feeling his hands and feet go ice-cold and at the same moment his chest and face start to burn, Mark was… Passingly aware that he’d accepted Edgeworth’s (Miles’?) hand. 

-

What???

What a terribly foolish thing to admit. Miles chewed his lip, hoping that that specific admission would pass cleanly over Mark’s head. The opportunity, hah! No one he’d rather share it with— a request?! How utterly embarrassing to have said so much. He considered himself lucky, and unlucky, that this Mann was so incapable of noting any act of affection leveled toward him.

Not… not that Miles was well known for being terribly affectionate. Still.

And, likewise now, Mark seemed wholly preoccupied with other things. Perhaps his utter obliviousness would continue to spare Miles the indignity of having to discuss any matters of the heart. 

… That there were matters of the heart which needed discussing was… well. It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to acknowledge.

-

Mark didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to hold his head up on the path to the dance floor- normally he wouldn’t dream of hanging his head, but the ground became very interesting when one needed to focus on one’s step, and even if he didn’t need to focus, meeting the eyes of (not allowed to think ‘crush’ but) Miles Edgeworth was dangerous enough.

Ah- oh no. They really had crossed that distance rather too quickly for Mark’s liking. Hand-on-back that rested warmly against this, his body, and it suddenly felt cumbersome to be- just to be. Mark’s own hand held feather-light over Miles’ shoulder; unwilling even to touch- to touch Miles. His hands were so cold and his face so warm- God, if there be any mercy in the world, may lightning strike me down here and now. 

Alas, no such luck. 

As the music started, step-one-two, don’t mess this up and stumble as Miles pulled him closer-; hand landing like lead to stabilize himself, and Mark felt his brain go absolutely empty- empty and full of static at the same time. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back just to see where he was stepping- to see he was trodding on Miles’ feet and step-step stumble off. “I’m sorry—.” Sorry sorry sorry fuck.

-

“You really are unfamiliar with this,” Miles almost found it amusing, how little coordination there was. It- the dance- was all an excuse to be close to Mark in an otherwise over-crowded venue; he almost certainly should not have done this, should not even have admitted that he wanted to do this, but he had. While it was clumsy, it was still enchanting- just to be there together. 

If only Mark were slightly more aware of the situation. 

Miles sighed lightly, watching Mark glance one way, then the next- evidently searching for something, though what exactly he was looking for was beyond Miles’ kenning. Looking up, then down, then up again; it was a wonder he didn’t get dizzy.

A tense voice, anxious; “I said I’m bad at dancing.” Not exactly… ideal, for a (not a date but) dance.

“You’re not the worst,” Miles offered.

“But I’m not the best.” Quickly dismissed.

“Do you need to be the best at everything?” 

“You can’t tell me you disagree- that you don’t want to be the best at everything you touch.”

That was… A fair enough point, he supposed. “But it’s an unreasonable standard to hold yourself to.”

Mark laughed at that- rude enough, tonight; “from you? From you?? We’re the same in that regard, at least. Neither willing to be less than the best, and neither expecting the world to live by the same standards.” At least he wasn’t still so stressed. And he’s back to watching our feet.

-

Mark felt himself pulled along at an unfamiliar speed; again he had been pulled a little too close, the dizzying steps tossing him face-first into Edgeworth’s cravat with a muffled ‘oomph.’ Despite all his struggling, he managed to scowl up into the grey above when he recovered his legs. So much struggling, with this dance thing. Struggles to meet a gaze, struggles to match the step. Infinite struggles, it seemed. Terrible! 

Miles looked away too quickly when the glare was cast- had he been looking at me? “It gets easier with practice, you know.”

Mark grumbled and huffed and felt very inelegant as he tried not to step on any shoes without looking. “Which is useful if you are inclined to practice- so, not useful to me.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you would be so inclined if you had someone to practice with?”

Mark glared back at his feet with that; to look at Miles when his face was this bright (step over, Rudolph,) would convey only that he found the notion embarrassing- and master of logic that Miles was, surely if he didn’t put it all together by now, he’d have the final piece of evidence in the long and storied history of Mark has a big ol’ stinkin’ crush on pretty boy Miles Edgeworth like some kind of gay dweeb or something. Mark was sure he hadn’t been found out, but just as sure that it was only a matter of time. Damned if he would speed that along by actually showing off his embarrassment like some neon sign over his head. Over his face. Whatever.

“What-? Practice with you?” He tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

-

“Is that so bad an idea?” Oh Miles was on fire with suggestions that would be impossible to explain away in the future, when they had work tomorrow and had to act like nothing happened. 

“It’s a terrible idea!” Despite the words, Miles could hear the smile in Mark’s voice; like it was all a joke. 

“Oh?” He tried not to take offense to that- the offer was genuine, even if it would have been hard to explain away in the future. “And what’s so terrible about it?”

Mumbling, as though trying to speak under his breath and not accounting for the fact that they were less than arm’s distance from each other; “I’m gay; you figure it out.”

This time when Mark walked into Miles’ chest, it was less because of his own inexperience, and more to do with Miles coming to his own screeching halt. 

“… What?”

“What?” Mark looked up, and reflexively Miles looked away again. 

While blushing might have been a bit too strong a word for it, Miles felt his throat, face, and ears burn with… hmmm, embarrassment? Something more akin to sudden, unwanted understanding, as all the pieces fell in place. “Wh-?! What does- what does that have to do with it?!”

“I said I’m bad at dancing! You’ve noticed!! You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed. Perhaps I am completely without rhythm, perhaps I am wholly incapable of such things as stepping around a room elegantly!”

“That’s definitely not what you said,” he started moving again- but this time, it was less of a dance and more of an attempt to hurriedly get out of the center of the room, get off the dance floor and into a place slightly quieter, slightly less in the view of everyone around. The appreciation in Mark’s expression was subtle, once he realized they were leaving- only for it to get suddenly screwed up into apprehension. 

Miles supposed it was probably because Mark had put together that they were leaving for the sake of a slightly more serious discussion.

-

The evening breeze was lovely, Mark supposed; it was cool enough that he could almost radiate away all the embarrassment without having to go shove his entire head under a cold tap.

Almost.

“Now,” Mark refused to look at Edgeworth- not that looking would have been so difficult in the dark of the night, but the idea that Edgeworth would be able to see Mark’s own face was enough to keep him looking to the side. “Mr. Mann, please.”

He glanced over in spite of himself- and though it was dark, something in Miles’ stance, or gestures, conveyed the same unease. “This is he who’s speaking.”

“This is not the time for jokes, sir.” 

Miles groaned, and despite the fear sense in the air, Mark cracked a smile. “But I am such a jester! It’s only natural that I crack a joke to lighten the mood.”

“I— even so,” Miles sat on the steps, gesturing for Mark to join him. “Please explain why your being gay is relevant.”

“You’re clever; can’t you figure it out?” Mark had almost sat down, and then the question (request?), and he elected instead to lean against a pillar and not, in fact, sit at all. “Surely something like that is obvious.” The smile had faded, that much was obvious in his tone.

“You’re not afraid to fall in love with me,” Miles posed it as though it was a question, rather than a statement of fact; attached to the end was an ‘are you?’

“Far worse,” Mark breathed; a whisper directed away that didn’t land upon any ears at all.

“Since that’s not an issue, I’m afraid I don’t see the logic.”

“I already…” have. 

“Hmm?”

“Your logic is faulty. It’s well past your statement.” 

“My… Do you mean ‘afraid to fall in love’?”

“That one, yeah.”

“Well past, then…” The silence sounded almost like disbelief; not that Mark was going to look over and see for himself. “You—?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t—!”

“For a long time!!” Mark wanted to laugh and scream all at the same time. God, what a terror this was! To admit to a crush one’s feelings, to acknowledge—.

“You didn’t notice either—?”

Wait what??? Mark turned around so fast he got dizzy and fell over. Miles was standing, having stood up at the revelation, and now he was leaning over Mark to help him get back up on his feet, and oh what a humiliating thing— “what do you mean ‘notice either’??? What’s that supposed to mean???”

“I knew you were oblivious but I was certain at least by tonight you’d have figured it out-.”

“Figured WHAT out?! What are you talking about?! Is this a dream? Am I dying and dreaming or something??”

“When I asked you to dance I was certain that would have clued you in-.”

“Oh my GOD whAT no I’m surely dying this is it, goodbye sweet world!”

“I can’t believe you would just throw away all evidence that pointed to my liking you at all!” By now they were both standing, and the panicked stream of words that had seemed never-ending had slowed to a point where they once again took turns speaking. “You really had no idea, then?”

“No. I’m a clown, remember?”

“Hmm. Well.”

“Regretting saying anything?”

“No, I think not.” 

Hand in hand, a moment’s pause before clearing of throats and suggestions that perhaps they ought to return inside.

“I still think I’ll simply die if you try to teach me how to dance.”

“Well we certainly wouldn’t want that. Very well, you are free of such an obligation.”

“Good. I’d rather not have any more heart-attacks for a while.”

[caffeinated-yearning]

Nice Things

Yeah baby I’m always late to my birthday, but I bring Dick Gets A Raise Because It’s My Birthday And I Can Ask For Nice Things For My Friends

Word Count: ~1800 Warnings: None 

"You're allowed to have nice things, pal." "Sir?" Gumshoe smiled down at his companion. "You should let yourself have nice things! I saw the way you were looking at that bookstore window- why don't you go get yourself something nice?" "Uh. Not today." "You say that every time I tell you that you should enjoy yourself, pal. Why don't you just let yourself live a little?" "Just." It shrugged, a noncommittal gesture with its hands, and looked up at warm eyes overcast with confusion. Today was not a day that wanted gifts to itself. But, wait- "hey, what about you? You should live by your own advice, Mr. Gumshoe. Detective, sorry." "Eh... I don't exactly have the money to be spending on stuff that's not rent or dinner, you know?" Sheepish, his grin; it wasn't exactly news to hear about his low pay, but he still acted like it was embarrassing. Mark looked back at the ground then- or rather, at the thread between its fingers. "I'm sorry." "Sorry for what, pal?" "Sorry that they get away with paying you peanuts when you work as hard as you do. That you have to want for things because of it." "Hey-, hey, don't worry about it, pal. It's not like I don't deserve it-." "You don't deserve it." Bitter, voice that tasted like burnt coffee grounds and lemon rinds. Gumshoe looked at him with surprise. It looked back, and his eyes were full of that same bitterness. "I'm going to make sure you don't have to suffer that any more. Tonight, even, it's as good a night as any- better than most, perhaps. I'll do something about it tonight." "What- now hang on a minute, pal, you don't gotta do anything like that for me!" It was as though Detective Gumshoe was... worried? Concerned about the response. Was he worried that Miles would think Gumshoe had put Mark up to the task? Absurd! The other possibility was not one Mark wanted to imagine. "But why not?" The taste of his emotions was vile, the taste of this day had always been vile. It had to be dealt with, that awfulness- every year it demanded something to satiate its miserable temper. A dreadful day. "Why not? There is no justice in a man who needs to so carefully avoid spending for pleasure, so that he may eat and have a roof." "Well, yeah, but-!" "There is nothing fair about it. So I'll fix it, if I can. I think, today, I can." As unusual as it was, to see Mark stand tall, to wear an aura of self-assuredness and adamancy, there he was. Back straight, and his pace suddenly driving Gumshoe to trot if he wanted to keep up; but since they’d have to split, one to go to the precinct and one to the chief prosecutor’s office, Gumshoe didn’t have to run alongside him for long.

---

"Mr. Edgeworth, sir?" "Mann." He looked up, briefly, from the case files he was studying just then- and back, down into the depths of the files. Inscrutable, from Mark's position, and far too packed to be easily torn apart. "Yes? What do you want." "You don't happen to know the date, do you?" "Hmm. Why do you ask?" Mark swallowed. Confidence was a mask that he could wear; he would wear the mask of a man who was confident. "I just... I wanted to make a request." "And it's important that today is today?" "It's relevant, but only if you decide that my appeals to logic and ethics are not enough." "And you think that an appeal to something other than logic or ethics will sway me, if those should fail?" There was a smirking lilt to his tone- chilling, how easily he could root Mark to the ground. "... Very well then." He settled in his seat, closing the file altogether; hands folded under his chin, same smirking grin as he turned his attention to Mark. "State your case."

---

"... And so, whether you trust in my logic, or you strive toward justice, and from there the ethical resolution of all issues that may arise, I think you will appreciate that it is necessary to give Detective Gumshoe a more reasonable salary." Breathe, and pull himself from that state of fearful almost-combat- "I have made my case, and if you find it lacking, you may cross-examine me. But I know I'm right." "Is that so?" He hadn't moved much in the past... Had it really been over a half hour? Mark felt his skin crawling at the idea of taking up so much time- of *talking* for that long. "I know I'm right, and if you have questions, I can fight on each counterpoint you might have." *Please don't have counterpoints.* "I do have one question." Mark held its breath. The tone, the posture; as though Miles had some ace up his sleeve. Some secret knowledge of ethos or logos which would allow him to upturn the whole thing. *Impossible, impossible*. Not that impossible; Edgeworth could likely find logical loopholes in anything, if previous sparring was anything to go by. "Why was the date an important precursor to your argument? It would seem irrelevant." "Ah." That. Right. The date. "If it's irrelevant, then why are you asking?" "It was a curious thing to bring up, so I want to know how it would sway me one way or another." Piss. "Erm. It's just my birthday. I. It was a dumb thing to bring up. Ignore it. Put it out of mind. It is, indeed, quite irrelevant." "Oh." Mark felt the anxious chill in fingers and toes; the fear response drawing his blood away. So much for the fire that had possessed him before. "Please give him a raise." "That's your request for your birthday?" *Oh don't sound so surprised.* "Yes. I'm doing just fine as I am; I've got any number of cheap hobbies and recipes to fall back on. If you need to cut someone else's pay to feel better about Gumshoe getting a well-deserved raise, I volunteer myself as sacrifice." "Don't- no. Don't say something as absurd as that. That is not necessary in the slightest." "Well either way. Dick- Detective Gumshoe deserves to eat more than instant ramen."

Miles watched the other carefully. He was not a creature that often let himself experience emotions- neither of them was, but Mark was always just a little closer to his emotions than he would have liked to believe. Miles was well aware of that- he'd seen it a few times before, the way he stood, stubborn and hard-headed, to defend anyone that he decided needed the defense. What was most impressive was how little awareness Mark had about his own expressions- he had described himself as 'poorly emoting' before, which was not a trait Miles believed accurate. Right now though, he'd gone from a state of loud and justified passion to... something almost embarrassed, in the span of five seconds. Understandably so- given his last-ditch effort was genuinely meant to be a *birthday request*. "Was that all?" "Er. Yes. Have you made your decision?" "I have, yes." "May I... May I hear it?" "In due time." "Tonight?" "In due time." Mark nodded, obscuring his expression with downturned face and hair that always seemed to get in his face. "Shall I leave, then?" His voice was so much softer than Miles had realized it would be, and there was almost guilt- almost, but then, Miles was better at keeping his emotions in check. It was with a neutral tone and neutral expression, then, that he dismissed Mark; "you may leave, yes." He held himself impassive as he watched Mark turn, walk towards the door- "and, Mr. Mann?" Entirely silent, Mark turned a fraction of the way back; listening, but not speaking. "I hope you have enjoyed your birthday so far." Nod, either a thank you, or a yes, sir; Miles sighed as the door closed behind Mark. Perhaps he ought to have expected that Mark would be taken by his silence after his being so unforthcoming with the fate of the detective; a worrywart was he. Still, he bit his tongue, and stayed in his office; it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he gave the answer right away. That... That was something people liked, was it not? Birthday surprises?

-

Well. That was not a particularly hopeful thing to end on. Hand on throat and breathing as slow as he could, Mark pulled himself to calmness, a thing he had practiced before and would practice until the end of his days. There was no promise, there was no promise, but was it harmful to hope? No. And whether the arrow struck the mark wouldn't matter, really. If Edgeworth did not relent, then Dick- then Detective Gumshoe would probably hardly remember the conversation from that morning. If Edgeworth did relent, then perhaps luck did follow it still. Perhaps. Mark was a very lucky person, but good and bad luck are both still luck. It wasn't something to worry about. It wasn't something that it needed to focus on. And it could drag itself from the swirling thoughts if it needed to. So it would drag itself out of its own mind, nails clinging to stone and scraping against dirt, it would pull itself out of its mind. Fixing the bowtie it wore, it headed downstairs; emptiness was calm, and it had emptied itself so that it could get back to its job.

---

"Mark!" Oh, a familiar voice- a familiar clap of a hand on its shoulder. "Detective Gumshoe, what's up?" "I don't know what you did, or how, but thanks so much pal!" His eyes shone, bright- wet? "Did... what?" "Wasn't it you?" He looked confused, then; warm eyes that so often ended up clouded with confusion over Mark's own forgetfulness, or else its strange behaviors besides. "I mean I guess Edgeworth really didn't mention you by name, but I just assumed, since you said..." "Oh. OH. Oh, that." Based on the tone this is a good thing, based on previous encounters it's... "So it *was* you!" "I guess so. Did he..?" "Yeah, I don't know how you did it, but he seems to have listened to you, whatever you said to him." His face was always so open, so ready to admit of his joy or pain; and now it was luminous, it was sunlight. Contagious in the best of ways. "Thank you, thank you so much pal!" "Holy fuck he gave you a raise?" "He sure did!" And both were bouncing- enthusiasm excitement joy joy joy! "Oh my god I can't believe it- I was so afraid he wasn't gonna listen to me at all- Detective, holy shit this is fantastic!"

In a room adjacent, Miles' expression softened. "Surprise," he said into empty space. “Good to know that birthday surprises are still enjoyable, after all.”

[caffeinated-yearning]

Miles: how are you feeling today?

Me: *wearing a Tourist Shirt tied so my belly is showing* feeling slutty today <3

Miles, sighing: why do I even ask ( - n - )

[caffeinated-yearning]

“Hey, Miles.”

“Hmm?”

Gesturing with a crochet hook; a smile that is unpleasantly giddy creeping over my face. He knows what is coming and can do nothing to stop me saying; “your boyfriend is a hooker. :)”

A long and exasperated sigh as he rests his forehead in his palm. He does not get paid enough to deal with this- he is not paid to deal with this at all.

[caffeinated-yearning]

No I still haven’t learned how to waltz without going off-tempo. I have learned that I can jump-stomp to the beat, though, which means I am capable of dancing after all :)

[caffeinated-yearning]

Now I am thinking about the mental gymnastics and the 5-D social chess that would have eventually lead to me n Miles actually kissing for the first time;; 

[caffeinated-yearning]

Me, telling Miles that I had, initially, Rival-crush on him: “yeah from the moment I saw you first, I thought you were hot- but like in a ‘I wanna mentally spar with him until I am hoarse and angry’ kinda way. it was the pretentiousness. It’s still the pretentiousness.”

Miles: Has anyone told you you’re. Really weird?? You’re really weird

Me, nodding: yes I think you told me that about two hours ago actually

[caffeinated-yearning]

sprite of Edgeworth’s little amused smile my beloved

[caffeinated-yearning]

Me holding Wright in one hand and Edgeworth in the other: we are in love your honor :)

The judge: Thank you Mr. Mann but what does that have to do with the case at hand? This is a murder trial???