Cover Image is a commission, Snuggletime, that kopiikat on dA did for me. Thanks! :D

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A/N: I do not own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth or Dick Gumshoe; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, Sergeant O'Malley and other incidental characters are mine.
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Sparks fly when Phoenix and Miles meet, setting the stage for a renewed bad feeling between the two. Both are left heart sore and hurt and things seem to go from bad to worse. Gumshoe is left in the middle, wondering if he did the right thing by telling Phoenix what Mr. Edgeworth had told him in confidence and is puzzled by Edgeworth's cryptic text on his cell phone. Offstage, more mayhem is planned...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXAt last, the meeting! Sparks sure flew didn't they? You can't really blame Phoenix too much for being so angry; after all, he really does have every right to be angry at what Miles did, and didn't, do but now that everything has been laid out on the table, perhaps now healing can begin. It will take time, not to mention tact, but perhaps there will be a reconciliation in the end. Let's hope. :)

Gotta love cryptic emails/texts! :D More on that in later chapters. It's setting the stage for Interlude 3 when Mr. Boone makes his reappearance.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Thanks to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

Thank you to my beta reader, Pearls1990, for amazing beta reading! Much appreciated! :)

Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary), for helping me out of a plot hole I'd written myself into which turned it into a fresh, new direction and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Comments are appreciated and welcome! :) I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :)

Rated M, male/male relationships, drama, Phoenix x Edgeworth
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Los Angeles Police Precinct
Interrogation Room
Los Angeles, CA
10:12 A.M.

"Detective," I said with warmth as I made my way to the door, "I was won-"

The words caught in my throat as I saw who was standing frozen inside the door frame. I stopped dead in my tracks and for several seconds I stared at him in mute silence before I stumbled back in shock, my heart pounding so hard in my chest that it seemed to echo in the suddenly silent room, my entire body shaking so badly that it was a miracle that I'd made it over to the chair by the table before my legs gave out. Time seemed to stand still as I stared at the very man I had hoped I'd never see again.

Miles...

I couldn't speak for awhile and, when I finally was able to, rage colored my words.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I managed to grate out as I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes blazing with rage when I saw Miles standing there, his normally placid face white and strained. My fingers had curled into fists and were clenched so hard that my knuckles turned white.

"I-" He licked his lips repeatedly, his mouth moving though no words emerged. At least he had the decency to look as surprised and as upset as I felt and, in this moment, I despised the man that stood in front of me. My loathing must have been apparent since he gasped and took a step backward, white to the lips and trembling noticeably.

I felt a poisonous surge of satisfaction at seeing him so thoroughly taken off-guard and it gave me a few moments to try and compose myself. From the look of it, he wasn't any happier to see me than I was to see him.

Good! I thought with angry satisfaction as I saw the warring emotions flitter over his face. I'm glad that he at least feels something! A grim smile spread over my lips as I saw him frozen to the spot, his hands trembling as he jerkily held out the file and walked gingerly toward the table where I sat. Serves you right, you miserable bastard!

"I... Wright... I-" he began but couldn't continue. I stared at him as he came ever closer to the table, biting back the few nasty phrases that crossed my mind. He deserved some consideration at least, since I was in a slightly more generous mood due to his discomfiture. It was a hell of a lot more consideration than he'd shown me.

You can't even call me by my bloody name, can you?!

"Yes?" My voice was terse and angry.

"I-I'm... File... here..." He stopped, biting his lower lip before he thrust out the file but I didn't lift my hand in either acknowledgement or to even take it from his outstretched hand, watching as he placed it on the table.

My jaw tightened. "Thank you." I was at my cold best although I shook deep inside with the almost unbearable urge to hit him. "I'm assuming that this is a file that you're dropping off for Detective Gumshoe."

"Y-yes..."

"As you can see-" I said, sweeping my hand across the table -"he isn't here right now." I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him and was gratified when I saw him flinch. "I'll be certain to tell him that you called and give him your regards."

He flinched again at the coldness in my tone and bit his lip, his fingers slowly curling. Another surge of poisonous satisfaction; he never did that unless he was upset and, judging by how hard he bit it, he was pretty upset at this point.

"Is there anything else you wish to say, Prosecutor Edgeworth?" I was enjoying this although I knew that I would regret it later but, at this point in time, I didn't care. He blanched at my use of his formal title and I leaned back in my seat, linking my fingers together.

"I..." He stopped and I felt a surge of regret when I saw the pain reflected in his dark grey eyes. It annoyed me that he could still silence my anger with a look as he was doing right now. I still loved him, after all, and though I was glad that he was alive and well, I was still angry with him for lying to me and allowing me to think that he was dead for so many years.

Jerk!

The more I thought of what he'd done, the angrier it made me although that was warring with the more forgiving side of my nature that desperately wished to forgive him, to welcome him back into my heart and my bed, both of which had been, and still were, cold and very lonely. Dear God, how could I even think of that after what he'd put me through?!

I resisted the urge to lean forward and take his hand although I very badly wanted to. I didn't know how this would end but, when all was said and done, what I wanted at this point in time was for him to leave so that I could lick my still raw wounds in peace and go back to my shadow life.

The silence was really beginning to grate on my already frayed nerves. I wanted him to leave. I couldn't bear the warring emotions inside my head and I couldn't look at his face anymore, that beautiful face that used to move mountains for me now only made me ill.

I stood and cleared my throat.

"Is there anything else?" I finally said, breaking the tense silence. "If not, then..."

I wasn't prepared for what happened next. He seemed to waver for a moment before he acted and, with a speed that astonished and amazed me, he strode toward me and took my face between his hands. I stiffened and began to open my mouth to tell him off but, before I had a chance to react or even say a word, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth hard against mine.

I squawked in outraged surprise while my hands scrabbled listlessly. Whatever it was that I had been I had been expecting him to do, it wasn't this!

My hands fluttered uselessly against his arms, my heart hammering in my chest as my legs became weak and I was forced to lean back against the table. My thoughts tumbled over one another in a confused jumble; time seemed to stand still as he kissed me and, before I had a chance to extricate myself from this very enjoyable kiss, he pulled back, his breath coming out in deep, heaving gasps.

He stood there for a few moments staring at me, his lips parted slightly. I stared back in mute silence, my thoughts in a whirl and my heart in turmoil. We stood there in tense silence for some time before he leaned in closer one last time and planted a final butterfly kiss on my lips. He leaned away from me very slowly, his lips traveling over my neck and over to my ear where I heard him whisper, his voice a confused jumble of confusion and pain, "I'm sorry, Phoenix. For everything" and then he was gone, leaving me heart sore, confused and only dimly aware of the door slamming shut.

What the hell was that?! My hands shook as my fingers ghosted over my lips, my eyes closing and an audible moan emerging from tightly compressed lips. Why did he do that? I sat there in stunned amazement for many minutes, trying to work out my very raw, and confused, feelings. Why did he kiss me? What was all that about?!

What bothered me even more was my reaction: I didn't push him away like my mind was screaming at me to do but, instead, melted into his embrace, my body responding eagerly to his hungry mouth.

I groaned in mingled pleasure and pain, my stomach heaving. God, what was wrong with me? Why did the very sight of him reduce me to a blushing schoolboy and all I had wanted to do was to wish that the kiss would never end?

I didn't know exactly although I was lying to myself and I knew it. I knew damned well why I had reacted like I did, angry though I still was.

I was still deeply in love with Miles Edgeworth. That fact crashed in my bruised heart like a battering ram; despite everything he'd done, all the lies and the betrayal, I was still in love with him.

That hurt.

I leaned forward, placing my crossed arms on the table in front of me and, lowering my head, I wept.

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Police Headquarters
Los Angeles, CA
10:55 A.M.

That was the state of affairs that greeted Detective Gumshoe when he finally made it to the Precinct. Edgeworth had rushed past him, his face white as a sheet, without a word and disappeared into the parking garage. He heard the roar of a car engine and then the squealing of tires as he saw Mr. Edgeworth's red sports car race out of the Precinct's parking lot and disappear around the corner.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I was too late, he thought sadly, walking with a heavy heart up the sidewalk and entering the front door. Damn it all.

He squared his shoulders as he reached out and grasped the handle on the double doors and opened it.

He walked inside and met Sgt. O'Malley's crestfallen gaze; he tried to muster a reassuring smile but all he could manage was a pained grimace, shaking his head as he continued on his way, O'Malley watching him in silence as he turned and disappeared around the corner.

He made his slow, weary way up to the Chief's office and, after finishing his business there, to the Interrogation Room.

What am I going to do now?

He stood outside the door for some time, wondering what the best course of action was to take and dreading his meeting with Mr. Wright. He stood outside for some time before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

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Police Precinct
Interrogation Room
Los Angeles, CA
11:15 A.M.

I glanced over at the sheaf of papers that lay on top of the table with a heavy heart and red-rimmed eyes, a very sour expression on my face and no idea of what I was going to do next or even what I could do.

After Miles had left, it took me some time to compose my bruised feelings and compose myself after I had broken down and cried. After I had managed to pull myself together, it was then that I finally read the forensics report. In one fell swoop, my belief in my client's innocence, and the hope that I might have had a second chance, collapsed like a house of cards. I was left holding the Joker, feeling like a fool and wondering what to do and where I could go from here.

I wasn't even aware that I had sat down again, nor that I had even stood in the first place, my face in my hands until Detective Gumshoe came into the room. I noticed that he looked ill at ease for some reason and I couldn't help wondering why although I felt too wretched at this point to look into it any further and too blue to care.

"Sorry about that, pal," he began apologetically, "I was stu-" Anything else he might have said quickly petered off and I could feel him staring at me as I slumped in the chair, my face in my hands.

"Hey... are you ok?" he asked, his voice thick with concern, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder.

"No," I replied shortly, lifting my head and rubbing bloodshot eyes tiredly with my fingers, "I'm not." I took a deep breath. "I'm tired, I haven't had a good night's sleep in months and now I found out that my client, whom I believed to be innocent, may be actually guilty of the murder of his wife and this report only proves it!"

All my rage came to a head as I swept my arm, shoving the report and my briefcase off of the table, sheaves of paper scattering in a wide arc over the floor.

Gumshoe remained silent while my anger at the situation boiled over. I raged for the next thirty minutes, my voice rising and falling, cracking with strain and unhappiness. I let it all out, the words bursting from me in a withering tide as I cursed the world, Fate, forensic reports and Miles Edgeworth in particular for which I saved some of my severest vitriol and nastiest words.

I could feel Gumshoe's hand tightening on my shoulder as he remained silent and let me finish; after what felt like an eternity and when I could think rationally again, I felt exhausted but strangely lighter than I had in months.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes, taking deep, even breaths until I felt like a human being again. When I opened them, I saw the sympathetic, though tight, expression on Gumshoe's face.

I wasn't surprised and I half expected him to launch into a vigorous defense of Edgeworth; I knew that he held the man in the highest esteem and had for a very long time but he remained silent, the corners of his mouth twitching which I found quite surprising, to say the least.

For many moments, an uneasy silence reigned in the room until I couldn't stand it any longer and burst out, "Well? Haven't you anything you'd like to say?!" I could feel my rage rebuilding itself, my hands clenching into tight fists so hard that my knuckles turned white. "I can see you're practically bursting to defend him so have at it! TELL ME I'M WRONG!"

I shook with rage, my teeth gritted so tightly together that they hurt. I wanted to lash out at someone-ANYONE!-and I could no longer hold back my roiling emotions which had progressed far beyond my ability to control them and they poured forth in a bitter and angry tide.

Gumshoe's mouth worked but he didn't say a word for some time until my rantings and ravings had petered off once again into a tense silence. When he did speak again, his voice was tight with barely controlled anger.

"I know that you're very angry with Mr. Edgeworth right now," he began, his eyes narrowing as he saw me start to open my mouth, holding up his hand, "and, I concur, that you have every right to be." He looked me right in the eye. "He lied to you; he hurt you; he didn't tell you he was alive and let you go on thinking that he was dead and a whole host of other things that I don't know anything about."

He paused a moment, took a deep breath and soldiered on. "You are right to be angry with him for that but he is sorry that he did what he did, can't you see that?"

I snorted derisively but made no comment. I knew how I felt about it and it wasn't kind, which was putting it mildly to say the least.

"Mr. Wright, you ARE right for feeling the way you do; no one blames you for that. But you ARE wrong in thinking that he doesn't feel badly for what he did and how much he regrets having hurt you."

His angry demeanor had drained away as he spoke, leaving him with a pinched and unhappy look on his face. I stared at him in stupefied surprise but, before I could gather my wits about me and speak, he continued. "Look, pal, I don't agree with what he did; in fact, he should have been honest with you and told you the truth in the first place. I also agree that he should be held responsible for his actions but he really is sorry for what he did and he wants the chance to make it up to you."

I hope you forgive me for telling him that, Mr. Edgeworth...

"How do you know?" I scoffed, my voice dismissive, cursing my quickly beating heart inwardly. Why did that man still have the power to do that? "Did he tell you that?"

"Not in so many words, no," Gumshoe admitted, his right hand lifting and scratching the back of his head, "but you could tell in the way he talks about you and says how sorry he is that he ran away instead of facing his demons three years ago... and how much he regrets leaving you."

My mouth dropped open in astonishment, nagging doubt beginning to form in my mind. Could I have been... wrong?

"But-" I began before Gumshoe cut me off again, his craggy face earnest.

"He really is sorry for hurting you like he did," he reiterated, "and you really should give him the chance to prove it." He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again. "He cares for you, Mr. Wright; please give him a chance to prove it to you. He wants nothing more than to make things right."

I could feel myself wanting to melt but I shrugged off the feeling angrily, squaring my shoulders.

I'm not going to let that man get under my skin again and hope for something that won't happen. I made up my mind not to shed any more tears for him and I meant it!

"Again, how do you know?" I asked, bitterness creeping into my voice.

"Because he told me... and I believe him."

Gumshoe shook his head once before he turned and left the room, his thoughts tumbling over one another as he paused and half turned, looking at me through the window in his office, my stunned and troubled expression cuttingly apparent.

I've done the best I could, Mr. Edgeworth, he thought to himself, and I hope that you won't be too angry with me when you find out. He sighed as he turned and began walking slowly down the hallway. I couldn't bear to see either of you hurting so much and I only hope that you can forgive me for telling Mr. Wright what you told me in confidence... and Ms. Fey, too.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way to the front of the precinct, knowing that his pay would probably be docked again for this when Mr. Edgeworth found out.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that. He pushed the door open and walked quickly into the chilly November afternoon, pulling the corners of his collar together. I only hope that it will work... for both of their sakes.

He was startled by the musical chiming of his cellphone and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He took out his cellphone and flipped it open, his eyes narrowing as he read the text message:

-Meet me this evening at the usual place. Something's come up and I'll need you to do some leg work for me. It's all coming to a head and we'll soon have to make contact, as much as I would rather it not.-

He pressed the "delete" button before closing the phone and putting it back into his pocket. I wonder what Mr. Edgeworth wants to talk to me about? And why there?

He paused for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face. There must be a reason, he thought to himself, Mr. Edgeworth always has a reason for what he does, whatever it might be though, in this instance, I'm hard-pressed to think of what that might be. He stood there for a moment before he shrugged and, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, continued to walk down the street in the teeth of the biting wind.

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Nov. 27th
East Los Angeles
11:30 P.M.

In the city, a killer was stirring. In a few days, another victim would be added to his roster and he would feel safe, knowing that the unwitting witness was dead and couldn't tell anyone else the secret she suspected.

What he didn't realize, and couldn't even begin to fathom, would be the firestorm that this murder would set off; it would gain attention, sending shockwaves through the community at large. For the hound of the law that was asked to look into the killing, he would put two and two together and come to a startling conclusion: this crime was connected to the case that the other was investigating on behalf of his client, the innocent victim of a crime that he had not committed.

He had three days to uncover the truth and, when he did, it would explode into a violence that even he couldn't begin to contemplate...