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Klavier couldn’t help but notice the two standing in the courtroom hallway, their hushed tones contradicting their lively hand gestures and expressions. They, as always, stood out in their contrast of maroon and blue.
“I trust you aren’t giving away crucial details to my case, ja?” Klavier interrupted. With a grin, he added, “Chief Prosecutor”
The two looked up. Edgeworth turned to Klavier and regarded him only mildly. “Fear not, it’s unrelated. Wright is just being his stubborn self.”
The man in question frowned at that, irritated. He adjusted his briefcase strap in a motion to leave, but wagged a finger in his direction and said pointedly, “Just check your texts, you’ll see what I mean.”
Edgeworth sighed, exasperation edging into his tone. “Alright, alright. Good luck in your case…. Wright, wait.”
Edgeworth stopped the defense attorney in his tracks with a hand on his shoulder. When Wright spun around, the chief prosecutor reached over and began to straighten out his tie. “This,” he said, jerking the tie and choking the blue suited man slightly, “has been bothering me. Does Trucy not look you over in the morning?”
“She had an early show.” Wright looked crossed between sheepishness and impatience. “You’re not my mom, Edgeworth, I can do this myself.”
“Apparently not,” Edgeworth mused. After a final rough tug on his necktie, he stood back and admired his work. With a smirk, he added “Off you go then.”
Wright looked extra irritated with his rival getting the last word in again, but chose not to continue to engage him. He waved to the both of them and headed into the courtroom.
Klavier stared. “Do you always…?”
“Always what?” He was still watching Wright walk away.
“Are you always that, uhh, comfortable with people? Or just him?”
“What do you mean?” he said, now turning to the young rockstar. He looked genuinely puzzled.
“Ah… never mind.”
Apollo was getting increasingly used to Edgeworth’s random appearance at the door of their small agency.
“Hello, Justice,” he nodded at him curtly, looking his default serious as usual. He carried a simple but deceptively elegant lunch bag in one hand. “Is Wright in?”
“Uh, yeah, he should be.” Apollo was certain their last few conversations had gone like this. He was starting to feel like Wright’s gatekeeper rather than fellow associate. “I’ll go get him.”
Wright appeared at the door and Apollo returned to his desk, keeping his ear open.
“Oh hey, Edgeworth. What’s up?”
Edgeworth thrust the bag at him. “I’ve brought lunch.”
“Whoa, is this that pasta dish you said you’d make yesterday?” They made their way to the small dinner table instead of Wright’s desk. “Just in time, I was about to eat.”
“Of course you were,” Edgeworth said with understated smugness as he neatly unpacked the bag. He had even brought two pairs of utensils.
“You’re prepared as always,” Wright said cheerfully, mostly fixated on the food.
“I don’t find anything particularly special about remembering to bring lunch utensils for lunch,” he said without looking up, putting out the containers. He pricked the chicken with a fork and nudged it in his direction. “Now try it.”
“Knock knock,” Wright said, peering into the prosecutor’s office. “Brought you a gift.”
Behind him, Edgeworth’s secretary attempted to peek in from her desk with gleeful curiosity. Third time this week, she mentally noted.
“Hold on, it’s Wright, let me take this.” Edgeworth picked up his phone. “Yes, Wright?”
The prosecutor paused, listening to the muffled tone on the other end. Then he responded, “It’s fine. Why, you’ve only interrupted my work. Apparently it can’t be that important.”
More listening. His lips curved in amusement. “...Just turn it off. Have you tried turning it off? … What do you mean it’s not what you expected? It’s a toaster.”
He sighed. “Just wait until I’m there. Tonight. Yes, you’ll live.”
He smirked, as if to keep himself from laughing. “It can’t possibly be that hard. No, don’t start with that again. Yes, I’ll see you soon. Goodbye. ...Good bye, Wright. Alright, yes, ‘later’. Later. Later.”
He hung up the phone, still smiling. Then he looked up and saw Gumshoe, betraying a baffled expression at his appearance. “...What is it?”
“Er,” Gumshoe frowned. “You called me in here first, pal? We were talking?”
“Oh. Right.”
“Daddy can’t come because he’s going on a date.”
“It’s not a date,” Wright said, hurrying about the office. “We’re just going to watch a movie.”
“It’s a date because I can’t come!”
“C’mon, we talked about this, Trucy. This is just something Dad and Miles want to do together alone. It’s, umm, a special bonding time,” Wright said, waving his hands flippantly. “Like a manly thing.”
“It... sounds like a date to me too,” Apollo said slowly.
“Oh no, not you too, Apollo,” his boss responded with a sigh. He had just finished packing his bag, and moved to find his jacket. “Look, Miles is my best friend, nothing weird about that.”
“He’s here like all the time now,” Athena added in. “And since when did you start calling him Miles?”
“Jeez, can’t catch a break from you all.” Wright, finally dressed, was still looking for the bag he had just packed when he heard a honk from the front. “Ah crap, he’s already here. See ya, kids.”
“Kids,” Apollo repeated. After watching the older man rush out, he attempted to exchange looks among Athena and Trucy. “I’m not crazy, right? Are… they really that dense?”
Athena chimed in, “It’s a bit like when the smartest people you know end up joining cults or pyramid schemes. Except here it’s oblivious romantic feelings that have been repressed for several decades.”
Apollo squinted at Athena’s blunt words, glancing at Trucy to see if she had any input.
Trucy instead went, “Oh!” and grabbed the bag her father had packed and forgotten, running out.
“Well, Wright, who would have thought you would be so excited to see the Steel Samurai?”
The defense attorney remained unphased, smiling as he buckled up in the passenger seat. “It’s more about having actual plans on a weekend. And, Miles, call me Phoenix, don’t make it weird.”
Edgeworth snorted at that. “There are worse things, I’ll admit. For example, I could call you--”
“Daddy!”
Wright perked up hearing his daughter, looking through his open window and seeing his daughter approach.
“Daddy, you left your bag in the office! It’s got the lunch you made for both of you, right?” Trucy handed over the lunch bag.
Edgeworth shook his head. “Typical, conveniently forgetting our lunch. Are you trying to make me buy lunch again?”
Wright laughed. “Me? Never. Though it’s not my fault you’re so willing.”
Seeing Edgeworth about to verbally riposte, Trucy quickly cut in with a, “You’re coming to my next show, right, Mr. Edgeworth?”
“Of course.”
“Great!” she said, waving. “Enjoy your date!”
“Oh, not this again,” but Trucy had already left, smiling cheekily. “All three of ‘em have been on my back about us.”
“Us?”
“Yes, ‘us’, just because we’re seeing a movie together. And I guess we’ve been having lunch together a lot. But so what?”
“Indeed.”
“One private picnic together and people lose their minds.”
“Some people,” Edgeworth nodded, agreeing, his eyes still on the road. “Say, did you remember to remove the mushrooms from my salad?”
“Of course, you hate mushrooms.”
Wright checked over the lunch he had packed just for the two of them. Then he looked at the pair of Steel Samurai tickets that Edgeworth had handed him as he got in the car. Then he stopped and looked at Edgeworth. He saw his carefully guarded smile playing at the tips of his lips. And for the briefest of moments, he pictured himself reaching out and brushing his fingertips lightly along that smile.
And he was okay with that.
“Well, crap. Miles?”
“Yes, Phoenix?”
“We’re on a date.”
“...What? We are not. You know that.”
“This is absolutely a date. Look at us.”
“It’s not, it’s… it’s a friendly outing!” Edgeworth stammered, trying to unclench his grip on the steering wheel.
“Well,” Wright flushed. “Do you want it to be a date?”
Edgeworth opened his mouth. And closed it. And opened it again.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. Somewhere, in the depths of the chief prosecutor’s mind, a chess match had come to its logical conclusion. “Yes, I do.”