Somehow or another I managed to have only math homework tonight, and easy math homework at that. So I decided to go ahead and write the new chapter. This one ended up a bit long. I was pretty inspired this time! I think it's better than the last one, at least.

It started with Wendy Oldbag. It always started with Wendy Oldbag. Edgeworth had thought his troubles with that woman were gone after the Pink Princess incident. He'd had eight blissful years away from that woman.

And than she was back. And she was calling him that absurd name. And she was a witness in the one damn trial Edgeworth himself was involved in.

It didn't help that when he told Wright, he laughed.

"I don't know, Edgeworth. I think she's kind of entertaining," Wright said, and Edgeworth could imagine the smile on his face. In the background, he heard Trucy loudly proclaiming her actions as she ran through one of her magic tricks and Mr. Justice and Ms. Cykes arguing, which Edgeworth had been made to understand was a normal occurrence at the office. Edgeworth wasn't sure how Wright managed to stand being surrounded by so much chaos. Yet Wright was happier than he'd been in years, so Edgeworth never paid much mind to it. It was a relief to see him happy for reasons other than his daughter.

Edgeworth's voice remained rigid when he made his response. "Do you have an recollection of State v. Powers? Or State v. Engarde? I don't honestly believe that you did not find her aggravating during those cases."

Wright snorted. "Well, yeah," he replied. "But I think it was always worth it to see her get under your skin."

Had Edgeworth been in the physical company of Wright at that moment, he would have given him a frosty glare. Instead, he remained silent, seething.

"You get too worked up, Edgeworth!" Wright said. "You're not even the prosecutor on the case. You're just . . . . What are you doing anyway? Why would the Chief Prosecutor need to be involved?"

"International smuggling," said Edgeworth. "The defendant is being tried for murder here, but now he's been accused by the Interpol. They want the case wrapped up so they can get their hands on him."

Wright made a humming noise. There was a crash in the background, and the rookie attorneys' argument came to a halt. There was a faint, "Oops," that Edgeworth would guess came from Trucy, and Wright said, "F . . . fudge. Hold on a minute. Trucy! Oh- Argh, uh, Edgeworth, I have to go. See you later!"

The line clicked off, only a buzz left behind. There was a faint smile on Edgeworth's lips as he turned back to his desk. Perhaps it had been good that Wright had hung up. They tended to let their conversations run on a little long. Edgeworth enjoyed talking to Wright, of course, but the only time that fit into their schedules was just after lunch (usually), and it was better that the both of them finished their work before office hours ended.

Talking to Wright had put Edgeworth in a slightly better mood, although he was still aggravated by the presence of a particular witness. As far as she'd known, he was still traveling around Europe, and thus she'd not sent him any messages or gifts. But now he'd already received two flower arrangements, three boxes of chocolates, and seven love letters. If Edgeworth were a more sympathetic man, he might pity the lady for wasting her money and the loneliness her letters implied. However, Edgeworth was not particularly sympathetic, and the items she sent only drove more anger into his soul.

The office intercom beeped. Edgeworth pressed the button to accept the call.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" called Ms. Fright, her voice as calm and controlled as ever. Slight affection tugged at Edgeworth's lips. Thank the world for good secretaries. "There's another delivery for you, sir."

Edgeworth sighed. "Yes, thank you, Ms. Fright. Do something with that, if you could, please."

There was a slight pause before Ms. Fright's next reply. "I should have mentioned, sir, but . . . um, there's a visitor that came with the delivery."

Sometimes Edgeworth wondered if he'd died and gone to hell.

"I am too busy for visitors. Please tell her so."

"Ah . . . ," said Ms. Fright, seeming unwilling to protest to her boss but still unable to comply. Edgeworth could understand that. Wendy Oldbag was difficult to handle.

He took pity on his poor, overworked secretary. "Send her up."

"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth!" Ms. Fright chirped, suddenly relieved. It was less than two minutes when the door to his office swung open.

"Edgey-poo!" cried the obnoxious old woman, plopping into the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Good afternoon," said Edgeworth, striving to keep his voice level.

Wendy Oldbag sniffled. "Why did you ask your secretary to get rid of my gift? It's rude to hurt a lady's heart, you know!"

Edgeworth felt his nails dig into his palm. He exhaled slowly. "I have my reasons. Do you have a reason for coming to my office?"

"I wanted to see my sweet Edgey-poo!" she said. She made a wistful smile before going off into a long-winded rant about how he should have informed her he'd come home sooner.

He sighed. "Ms. Oldbag, I must inform you that, as Chief Prosecutor, my time spent at the office is valuable and cannot be wasted on personal chats." She did not need to know about his calls to Wright. "If there is anything of importance, inform me now. If not, you may show yourself out."

"How rude!" snapped the woman. "I would have thought that at your age, you would know better! But I guess you've still got a little whippersnapper in you." Her voice softened. "Oh, Edgey-poo, you're so young-spirited."

Edgeworth considered banging his head on his desk until she left, but, knowing his luck, she'd stay and care for his "injuries." "Ms. Oldbag . . . ," he warned.

"Well, if I'm not supposed to visit you during office hours, give me your address!"

"I am not at liberty to," he said.

"Hmph! At least have the decency to tell me why you don't keep any of my gifts around your office."

Edgeworth took a deep breath. He needed a way to get her out of there fast. He could not take much more of this. "Truthfully," he began to weave his lie, "my boyfriend is of the jealous sort and does not like to see gifts from others in my office."

Whether Ms. Oldbag's surprise was from his claim of having a boyfriend or the excuse itself, he could not tell. "Your boyfriend sounds horrible," she said sympathetically,

"On the contrary," said Edgeworth. "He's wonderful. I love him."

Ms. Oldbag didn't give in. "But he doesn't let you keep gifts!"

"It's not that he doesn't allow it. I do it out of consideration for him. I would not wish to see gifts from potential suitors at his desk, just as he does not care to see them at mine," said Edgeworth calmly. This lie seemed to be working out almost well.

The crone hesitated slightly. Her eyes were cast to the ground, as if to hide tears. She seemed slightly heartbroken. "I see. What's the whippersnapper's name?"

Edgeworth tried to imagine a name, something believable, but someone she would never meet because they did not exist. He said, "Phoenix Wright."

He didn't have any idea why.

Confessing to Wright had been an awkward endeavor. He and Wright had been friends for years. They knew each other well. Wright knew of Edgeworth's romantic inclinations towards men, Edgeworth knew of Wright's horrible romantic past, and they knew each other's struggles with asexuality. If any were to pretend to date and do it well, it could be them. It did not make explaining the situation any easier.

"You didn't tell me she was sending you gifts," was Wright's only response after Edgeworth recounted the incident.

"Is that all you have to say?" asked Edgeworth. This man baffled him.

Wright laughed. "Yes. I'm your jealous boyfriend who doesn't like seeing others' gifts in your office."

Edgeworth huffed.

"Relax, I'm just kidding. I don't mind pretending I'm dating you in front of the Oldbag. If I ever see her, that is," said Wright. "Honestly, shouldn't you be more worried about the situation? I'm not looking to date, but you . . . ."

They hadn't spoken of their romantic situations to each other in years. Edgeworth wasn't surprised to hear that Wright wasn't dating, as he had not even attempted to since he adopted Trucy, but it was strange to hear the words from the mouth of a man who'd once been such a hopeless romantic. Perhaps years of trying to find someone who could accept his daughter, his emotional baggage, and his asexuality had worn on him.

"I have no desire," said Edgeworth.

"No problem then!" said Wright. "She'll let up eventually, I'm sure, and then we can drop the act. Just don't tell Trucy we're doing this, or she may start calling you Mommy Miles instead of Uncle Miles."

Edgeworth winced.

"I've got to go. I'm at the courthouse, and the trial starts in twenty minutes, and I'd like to talk to my client beforehand. Are we still doing dinner tonight?"

"Yes," Edgeworth said. "Seven at my apartment."

"Cool! Trucy and I will be there!"

"Not on time, likely."

"Aw, lighten up. Trucy has a bad habit of making our bus passes disappear."

Edgeworth couldn't stifle his laugh. "Your daughter is something special."

Wright's voice softened. "Yes, she is. See you then."

Edgeworth placed the office phone back on the receiver. He looked up only to find that Wendy Oldbag had returned. His heart sped a little in fear that she'd heard the explanation.

"So you and your lover are having a romantic dinner tonight?" she asked. He was relieved to find that she seemed to have only caught the final statements.

"Not so much. His daughter is joining us. We do this once a week, as our schedules rarely coincide."

Oldbag stared at him for a moment. She said, "Then you wouldn't mind having one more."

Horror filled Edgeworth's eyes.

"I need to see if that whippersnapper is treating my Edgey-poo correctly," she said solemnly.

And in a sudden whirlwind, Edgeworth found himself destined for another agonizing encounter with Wendy Oldbag.

Because of Oldbag's self-invitation to dinner, Edgeworth and Wright were forced to reveal their plan to Trucy. Trucy Wright didn't laugh as much as they'd predicted. Instead, a wide grin spread over her face. When questioned about it, she shook her head and giggled to herself. Edgeworth chose to ignore it.

Oldbag arrived fifteen minute late, complaining of whippersnappers taking all the seats on the bus. If Edgeworth had to guess, he would presume she did not board until there was a free seat for her. As soon as she entered Edgeworth's apartment, she made her way to the living room where Wright and Trucy were sitting.

"Nice to see you again, Ms. Oldbag," Wright said calmly. He gestured to the girl next to him. "This is my daughter, Trucy. Trucy, this Wendy Oldbag. She was a witness in some cases Edgeworth and I were involved in years ago."

Oldbag seemed disgruntled. "You have a daughter? So old too! Clearly, you are not committed enough to Edgey-poo to never take another lover. And it just shows that you little whippersnappers can't keep it in your pants!"

Edgeworth wasn't sure which part Wright was blushing from. Trucy managed to keep her laughs inside.

"Actually, Trucy is adopted," Wright cut in. "Her father was a client of mine who disappeared. As she had no other family left, I adopted her."

Trucy smiled and laid her head affectionately on her father's arm. "Daddy is the best!" she chimed.

Oldbag wasn't entirely convinced. "When will dinner be ready?" she huffed.

"It is," said Edgeworth. "We were waiting for you."

Oldbag seemed slightly touched. "At least Edgey-poo has manners," she cooed. He refrained from mentioning that it was Trucy's idea.

They moved to the dining room, where Edgeworth served the food carefully.

"You have such refined taste," said Wright in that tone that was neither entirely mocking nor entirely serious. He cast his gaze over to Edgeworth. Edgeworth felt a little self-conscious right then, but he didn't mind having Wright's eyes on him with that kind of gentleness.

Edgeworth looked away and ignored his previous thoughts. "I have experience more cultures than you," he said calmly.

"I like eating at Uncle Miles's!" said Trucy. "It's always an adventure!"

Not exactly a compliment, but Edgeworth smiled affectionately at her anyway.

"How long have you been dating?" Oldbag demanded. Edgeworth and Wright looked at her.

"Not too long . . . ," Wright said carefully. "But we've known each other for years. I was wanting to wait until Trucy was an adult before I did this, but I guess I couldn't resist Edgeworth any longer." And there was Wright's teasing half-smile, that look that told Edgeworth they had an inside joke even if Edgeworth hadn't figured out what it was yet. That look made his breath slow. How had he not noticed that Wright did this to him before? Was he oblivious? Or was the idea of dating Wright slipping into his brain?

"And I'm glad Uncles Miles and Daddy are dating. They make each other happy!" said Trucy.

Oldbag looked at the two appraisingly. "If you're trying not to jump into it, you're failing," she pronounced. She looked over to Wright. "At his office, he said that he loved you. That's a huge honor. You should feel blessed to have Edgey-poo."

Edgeworth wanted to die right then. He considered grabbing the pen on the cabinet and scribbling a note on his napkin. He didn't want Wright to hear what he'd said at the office. He hadn't even been speaking about Wright, but to have him believe that he needed to let Edgeworth down gently would be misery.

"I am blessed," said Wright. "I have a lovely daughter and a perfect boyfriend. What more could I ask for?" At that, Wright reached over and took Edgeworth's hand in his own. He continued to defend himself to Oldbag all while rubbing his thumb comfortingly over Edgeworth's palm. Their fingers intertwined. Edgeworth could hardly concentrate on anything but that. He held back a sigh as he thought about how Wright's acting skills were very convincing. But what else would he expect from a man who went to college to be an actor before he changed majors? If Edgeworth didn't know better, he might have thought Wright actually loved him.

When the night finally, thankfully ended and Oldbag had slithered off to where she came from, Edgeworth thanked Wright and Trucy for their cooperation.

"No problem, Uncle Miles!" cried Trucy. She looked to the side, giggling nervously. "She seemed a bit . . . ."

Wright sighed. "Trucy, do you have our bus passes?"

Trucy paused. "Oh. Uh. Well, you know that trick I performed for Ms. Oldbag . . . ?"

Wright shook his head. "Go look around for them."

Trucy hesitantly complied and scampered off to scourge through the apartment. Edgeworth smiled fondly. "Your daughter is great."

"She is!" Wright said proudly.

"Again, I thank you for this," said Edgeworth.

"No problem," said Wright. He crossed his arms and it grew silent. Suddenly, Trucy ran between the two of them out the door.

"Let's go, Daddy!" she yelled. Wright nodded to her.

"Thank you for having us over," Wright said. Before Edgeworth could brush it off, he leaned forward and gave Edgeworth a quick kiss. "Expect a call from your jealous boyfriend before lunch tomorrow." Then the Wrights ran out of the apartment building.

Edgeworth was left wondering if Wright actually meant the kiss or if it was his twisted sense of humor again.