A/N: So I honestly thought about just throwing this chapter up here without any kind of explanation whatsoever for a laugh. There's not a lot to say really. I came across this barely written chapter on an old computer and remembered that I never actually finished the thing. Sure, it's been over half a decade but why not? Let's see how many chapters I can get out before I go on another crazy long hiatus!

Also, you'll probably notice a slight change in writing style at some point in this chapter from when I stopped writing it 5ish years ago and the writing style from 2 weeks ago. I don't think I've gotten much better, per se, but at least I don't think it's gotten worse.

Up and Over

"How many times do I have to tell you, no?" Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, which he feared was starting to become a habit every time the Steel Samurai theme burst forth from his cell phone.

"…Because the stove is still broken and I don't want you playing with it… Yes, I know the man upstairs is a fireman, but I seriously doubt he wants to deal with your shenanigans while off duty… For the last time, no. Now go play or something. Goodbye, Phoenix."

The phone was stuffed into his pocket and Miles buried his face in his hand with an annoyed groan. "I'm raising two children." It was a sad realization that he couldn't leave Phoenix home alone for too long without worrying he might burn down the entire apartment complex or worse, decide to 'expand his creative mediums'.

At first, Miles had been lenient about Phoenix's artistic experiments, since he had been denied the art school he had deserved to go to. But after coming home to an abstract painting of which the canvas had been their toilet, Miles had put his foot down, and Phoenix was forever put on toilet cleaning duty until the day he died.

The chime of the clock on the wall pulled Miles back to the organized chaos on top of his desk. Papers and photos littered the normally immaculate workspace. On any given day, Miles would have spent a fair amount of time cleaning up the mess, but this was not any given day.

This was his first real case. His debut in court.

And what better way to introduce the rookie prosecutor to the world then to give him a murder case the others wouldn't touch?

At first glance, Miles couldn't understand why it had been shuffled down the collective food chain. It seemed like a fairly open and shut case. He still had the notes he had taken during the briefing.

Defendant Terry Fawles, convicted five years ago of killing a fourteen-year-old girl thanks to the eyewitness account of one Valerie Hawthorne, escaped custody and lured Hawthorne to Dusky Bridge, where she was stabbed to death and placed in the trunk of a car.

The photos of the body, while not horrendously gory or bloody, had given Miles pause as he had looked them over. I've seen worse. Far worse. He had reminded himself. The only thing I can do for her now is to give her the justice she deserves.

There were other photos littering the pile, of course, each of varying importance, including one in particular that caused the other prosecutors to pass the case on to the next poor bastard in line until there wasn't anyone left to pass it on to.

But it wasn't the actual photo of the victim and the accused standing top of Dusky Bridge that was the problem. The problem was the person who had taken the photo.

With all of the resources available to him, it didn't take long for Miles to put two and two together.

"Miss… Melissa Foster, was it?" Miles had glanced up from the file he had been poring over at the young woman sitting across from him.

The woman gazed serenely in his direction with a smile that somehow managed to relax the stressed rookie for the first time all day.

"Yes, Mister Prosecutor?" Her voice was soft and calming, like the rest of her. It was almost enough for Miles to simply dismiss his inquiry.

Almost.

Miles cleared his throat and straightened himself up. "You and I both know that name is an alias. Tell me, Dahlia. What were you really doing by Dusky Bridge that day?"

If there was any change in Dahlia Hawthorne's demeanor, Miles couldn't tell.

But the room had certainly gotten colder.

At that point, Dahlia had explained that unless her true identity was kept between them, she would refuse to testify, rendering the witness, photo, and case, lost.

There was far more to this case then what the court record contained. Dahlia played a part in this, Miles knew she had to be. Why else would a girl who had been supposedly dead for five years suddenly appear at the very spot the supposed murder had taken place?

Miles groaned and let his head slam against his desk, sending a few papers fluttering to the floor. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Maybe I can take the file back to Payne and tell him he can shove it-

"You feelin' alright there, compadre?"

The sound of his is co-worker's voice was enough for Miles to snap to attention. "Y-yes! I apologies, I was… in the middle of intense retrospection… sir."

The other man seemed to find this rather amusing and chuckled as he made his way into Miles' office. "C'mon Miles, I told you plenty of times before you don't have to call me sir. It makes me feel old." Still chuckling, Neil Marshall reached out towards Miles and removed the photograph sticking to his forehead. "Must've been some pretty damn intense retrospection."

"…Actually the word I meant to word was something along the lines of 'hopeless'." Miles admitted. Normally, he did everything he could to pull his own weight and never admit weakness in front of his co-workers. Because of his choice to transfer from one of the country's top law schools, to a college he could commute to from home, he felt had far more to prove then most.

There was only so many times Miles was willing to throw his father's name around, after all.

Thankfully Marshall had been one of the more welcoming prosecutors.

Marshall shook his head and bent down to pick up the stray papers that had drifted onto the floor. "Hey now, that doesn't sound like our bloodthirsty rookie. What took the wind out of your sails, Miles?"

"First of all, I respectfully ask that you refrain from calling me the 'bloodthirsty rookie' and 'demon prosecutor'. That's the last thing I want people to call me. "

"Can't make any promises, kiddo."

"I had a feeling." Miles sighed. "I never should have taken this case. The witness is clearly hiding something, but she refuses to testify if she can't use her alias. If that happens, the photo she took means nothing. I… I don't know how they expect me to sort this out by tomorrow." There was so much riding on this case. He couldn't let this case fall apart and let the truth escape his grasp.

There was the sound of a flick against metal as Marshall lit up a cigarette. "Ah, such is the life of a prosecutor. At least, the life of a good prosecutor." He added with a chuckle, which only continued when he noticed Miles' disbelieving stare. "It ain't about how many guilty verdicts you get, despite what some of the others might tell ya. It's about the truth. But as a prosecutor, you only have one part of the puzzle. Lucky for you, there's someone on the other end of the courtroom with the other part. Once you put 'em together, the truth'll show itself."

Miles could only nod his head as Marshall bid him good night and exited his office as quickly as he came.

Years later, Miles would still regret never taking the time to get to know his fellow college properly before his murder nearly two years later.

Miles liked to think that after everything life had thrown at him in his short existence, he was more than equipped to deal with just about anything that came his way with a level and rational mind.

But as stared at the remains of his ruined tie that his son had decided needed to be warmed via the toaster, Miles wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner with a blanket over his head and weep level and rational tears.

Court was going to convene in less than an hour and the only useable tie he owned was singed and smoking in the sink.

"Okay, how about this?" Phoenix chimed in (un)helpfully. "Just go to court without a tie. I'm sure you'll be fin-"

"Are you insane?! I will not stand in front of the judge without being fully dressed! What kind of attorney goes to court without proper attire?!"

Phoenix did his level best not to roll his eyes. Supportive. He had to be supportive since it was sort of his fault for teaching Hayden how the toaster worked. "Well, unless you want to wear your freshly toasted tie-"

"Which I most certainly will not."

"-Right." All of this stress couldn't be healthy. It seemed Hayden had the right idea; vacating the area while his papa had a mental breakdown. He should probably go find the poor boy. Shouldn't be too hard in a one-bedroom apartment. He was probably hiding in the closet with all of the Halloween boxes…

Wait…

"Miles! Don't move, I'll be right back!" Phoenix shouted and dashed into their bedroom. Miles could hear Hayden's protesting and several boxes crashing to the ground. He would have taken the time to remind Phoenix that people actually lived on the floor below, but his mind was stuck on the mental image of his face going on record as the youngest prosecutor to get disbarred before he even made his courtroom debut.

"Here, can you use this?" Phoenix's voice broke through his thoughts. The dark haired man proudly held up a white, frilly… thing. It looked familiar.

"Is that… the cravat from Halloween last year?" Yes, it had to be. He had dressed up at Mozart that year when Hayden's preschool had a costume party and the parents were asked to dress up. The things he did for that boy…

Phoenix barely managed a nod before the neckwear was snatched out of his hands and watched as Miles Edgeworth dashed out of the tiny apartment in a magenta suit, cravat in hand.

The slamming of the door seemed to be the signal for Hayden to emerge from his hiding spot. "Why's papa going to work in a bib?"

With another heavy sigh, Phoenix scooped his son off the ground. "Because papa is a big baby." He muttered. Honestly, that man could be so tightly wound sometimes. It wasn't like going to court without a tie was a horrible crime. As long as the prosecution didn't show up in jeans and combat boots, he didn't see what the big issue was.

For nearly twelve years, Miles Edgeworth had run thousands upon thousands of scenarios about the result of his first trial. Everything ranging from a spectacular victory to a crushing defeat.

But this was unlike anything he had pictured in his head at all.

The defendant slumped over the witness stand, dead, after taking his own life to defend someone who had so thoroughly betrayed him. That person had walked calmly out of the courtroom with a smile on her face that would haunt Miles in his sleep for weeks afterward. He had done everything in his power to keep Dahlia Hawthorne on the stand, hoping the defense would help him uncover the information he had failed to find on his own and reveal the truth. Said defense attorney was in tears while her co-counsel was offering words of comfort as he picked broken ceramic shards out of his hands from his broken coffee mug.

To top it all off, Miles' attempts to keep Dahlia on the stand and aid the defense had been… less than well thought out in the long run. He could already hear the murmurings of his rather dubious methods.

Well, on the slightly brighter side… A darker side of Miles' mind supplied. You might not have won, but you didn't exactly lose either.

The press was waiting just outside the courthouse doors and Miles wasn't sure he was emotionally prepared for that. There had already been some buzz surrounding this trial as this case had involved a murdered detective and had a 20 year old 'prodigy' heading the prosecution. And now after everything that happened, Miles was sure it was an absolute frenzy outside. Maybe if he stood here long enough, the defense would leave first and he could sneak out while everyone was distracted.

"Miles. You're going to have to let go of your desk sometime."

Miles quickly let go of the desk he didn't even realize had been gripping onto for dear life. He turned to face his father and was suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that came crashing down on him.

"Father, it wasn't what it looked like."

"Miles-"

"It the the only thing I could think of-"

"Miles." Gregory cut in. "It's okay. I understand." He said with a gentle smile. "A first trial is always hard. And having it be a murder trial on top of that? Son, I'm surprised you held everything together as well you did."

"But I-"

"I know the son I raised Miles. I raised you to find the truth above all things. And speaking as someone who's been an attorney longer than you've been alive, I can tell the difference between someone trying to pull the wool over everyone's eyes and someone doing what you did today."

"Yes, and look where that got us." Miles mumbled to himself.

"You can't control everything that happens, Miles. Sometimes you can do everything right and it still goes to shit. You of all people should know that, Mister I-can-get-Hayden-potty-trained-before-he-turns-two-to-save-on-diapers. That plan literally went to shit, didn't it?"

"Can we not talk about that? Ever?"

Gregory laughed and pat his son on the shoulder. "Fair enough. You ready to go out there and face the music? I'll get you a beer afterward."

"Father, I'm twenty."

"Huh. So you are."

"I'm underaged. It's illegal."

Miles' father shrugged. "Well, we'll see how you feel after you deal with the press. Then you can give me your answer."

Miles fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Whatever happens out there, I don't think it will be that bad."

Thirty minutes later, a shell shocked Miles Edgeworth followed his father to his car.

"Do you think I could get a vodka instead?"

"That's my boy."

It was nearly evening by the time Miles returned to the tiny, one bedroom apartment. His father, in his own usual way, had kept Miles from spiraling into a mess of shame and self doubt. The vodka had helped a bit as well, but he suspected it had been severely watered down which was probably for the best.

Before he even fully opened the door, Miles could hear Hayden's small feet zooming from one end of the apartment to the other. By the time he had completely opened the door, Hayden was clinging to both of his legs. "Papa!" The little boy chirped. "M'sorry you lost! But daddy got pizza!"

"Ah, of course." Miles said, leaning down to left Hayden into his arms to give his son a proper hug. "Oh yes, 'I'm so sorry you lost and made a complete fool of yourself in front of the entire courtroom', but at least your dad ordered pizza."

"Pizza!"

Miles chuckled and set the boy back down on the ground. "Well, I suppose you'd better get back to it, before your dad eats it all." Hayden took off like a shot into the kitchen, nearly bowling over Phoenix as he walked into the living room.

"Well, in my defense, pizza works as both celebratory and pity food." Phoenix said, looking a little sheepish. "You alright? I heard it didn't uh… go well."

"That would be the understatement of the century. Please don't tell me you watched any of it."

Phoenix shook his head. "I had Hayden with me all day. Figured a murder trial was a bit too gruesome. Plus Sesame Street kind of trumps seeing your dad on TV. Sorry Miles, Big Bird is just more colorful and sings better."

Well, at least Miles could rest easy in the fact Phoenix didn't have to bare witness to that mess of a trial. "That's fine. Just… do me a favor and stay away from the news for a while, alright? There are probably going to be some… not so flattering things being told about me."

"It was the cravat, wasn't it?"

"Phoenix…"

"The cowlick?"

"Enough, Wright. Just because my father isn't here, doesn't mean we need someone to make up for his absence."

"Alright, alright. I promise, I'll keep away from the news for a while as much as I can." Phoenix said, his smile slowly fading into a look of concern. "But you will talk to be about it eventually, right? When things calm down a bit?"

"Of course." Miles agreed. "I've already spoken with my father about the entire fiasco rather extensively. I just need time to… process everything. For now though, we should probably see if our son left us some pizza. Does it at least have toppings aside from an ungodly amount of cheese?"

"So… should I start calling you Mister Demon Prosecutor now? Because I have to admit, it's kind of hot."

"Demon pros- Phoenix! It's barely been over a day!"

"I know, but someone was reading the paper next to me on the bus this morning and I caught a glimpse of the headline."

"Oh my god…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought I saw 'genius' and 'prodigy' in there a couple times."

"It really doesn't."

"Can I still think it's hot?"

"No!"

Six months later

August 27th, 2014

Phoenix carefully removed the last book he needed off of the self and added it to the growing stack in his arms. It was a rather impressive collection; who knew there were so many different opinions on due process?

The courthouse reading room had quickly become one of Phoenix's favorite study areas. He had access to endless resources when he needed to research anything to do with the law, Miles was close by and would often stop by to visit whenever he had the time, and the staff didn't seem to mind him bringing Hayden on occasion.

He hadn't expected minoring in law would take up so much of his time. But Franziska had done nothing but hound him the second after he graduated about educating himself in law. According to her, no little brother of hers would go out into the world ignorant and uneducated. Phoenix had not appreciated her option on his decision to major in art. It had taken several weeks and nearly all of Gregory Edgeworth's skill at negotiation to come to the agreement. Phoenix would minor in law, but if it looked like the classes were too challenging he would be allowed to drop his minor and Franziska would leave him alone. For a full year, that little girl had stood over him, whip in hand making sure all of his homework and writing assignments were nothing short of perfect.

Soon enough, Phoenix slowly adjusted to the workload. The classes were challenging, but Franziska's horrifying tutelage had given him a solid foundation to work off of and it wasn't long before he was flourishing.

On top of that, he was enjoying it.

Phoenix had almost made it back to the table where Hayden sat with his crayons and coloring book when he and all of his books collided into a poor soul who had been crossing his path. The books went flying and landed on the floor in a series of spectacular thumps, followed by a young woman crying out in alarm.

"Oh goodness! I'm so sorry I didn't see you there!"

Phoenix opened his mouth to apologize as well, but any sound that attempted to escape quickly petered out into a tiny squeak.

The worried young woman watched Phoenix curiously for a moment as he desperately tried to remember a single word of the English language. When that failed, the girl let out a delicate, melodious laugh that almost instantly put Phoenix completely at ease.

"Oh my, I wonder if this is what fate feel like." She said, brushing her vibrant red hair behind her shoulder. "Meeting such a handsome young man like yourself all the way down here in this stuffy old reading room. Does the young man speak, I wonder?"

A laugh bubbled out of Phoenix's throat, breaking the strange little spell he had been under. "Yes, he does!" Phoenix yelled for no particular reason he could fathom. Sure, his experience with women in general had been pretty lacking, let alone pretty women with sweet innocent faces and a voice like a-

Ok, no. Derailing the shit out of that train of thought right now.

The young woman laughed again, this time, reaching out to put a hand on Phoenix's arm. "I can certainly see that. Handsome and articulate, how does a girl become so fortunate to find someone like that in such an unlikely place? Oh!" She seemed to realize just how close they were standing and covered her face with her hands to hide her blush. "Goodness, did I say that outloud? Oh, how embarrassing!"

Oh dear…

Phoenix made sure to take a small step to put a little bit of distance between them. "Okay, wow… I'm flattered, believe me, I am." Any stranger who thought he was good looking after the hectic few years he's had with minimal sleep and constant stress was completely okay in his book. "But there's a few things I think we need to clear up. First of all I'm-

"Married?" The girl chimed in, trying to hide her disappointment.

"W-well, no…" Phoenix replied, trying to think of the best way to explain. "But I am-"

Completely and utterly Miles-Sexual.

"Spoken for." He finished, with an apologetic smile.

"Daddy!" Came a small voice, growing louder by the second as the four year old stumbled over the now forgotten books on the floor and reach his father. Phoenix grinned and reached down to scoop the boy into his arms, ruffling his already wild black hair. "Very spoken for." He added and quickly turned his attention to his son. "What you have for me, buddy?"

Hayden held up a page from his coloring book. "I'm done!" He announced proudly as Phoenix looked it over.

"Hayden, this is amazing! There's no way you colored this!"

"I did!"

"The lady at the front had to have helped you!"

"No, Daddy! I did it!"

"Is that crosshatching I detect?"

"Daddy!" Hayden whined, holding back a giggle.

"Oh my goodness, well, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" The girl exclaimed, looking down at Hayden with a gentle smile. Hayden turned to look at the young woman and gasped, nearly dropping his coloring book into the pile of books.

"Daddy!" Hayden whispered, not taking his eyes off of the girl. "It's a princess."

"Oh my!" The girl laughed. "Does that mean you're my knight in shining armor?"

"Yes!" Hayden yelled, much like his father. The girl laughed again, reaching for the necklace she wore. "Well then, I suppose my knight should have a gift, then." She removed the necklace and placed it over Hayden's head. He quickly reached for the pendent attached to it, a little glass bottle surrounded by a beautiful golden heart.

"Pretty…" Hayden mumbled in awe.

Phoenix looked at the young woman, a little uncertain. "Oh wow, are you sure it's alright for him to have that? I mean, it looks pretty…"

Breakable.

"...Fancy."

"Oh, I absolutely insist!" She said, waving away his concern. "It can be my way of apologizing for that embarrassing misunderstanding earlier. And maybe, perhaps, a symbol of our friendship?"

Well… with sweet, hopeful eyes like that, there was no way Phoenix could possibly refuse. "Of course! I'm always in the market for friends. Name's Phoenix Wright. And this is my son, Hayden."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Feenie and Hayden." She replied with that same lovely smile that had made Phoenix cast all of his concerns aside. "My name is Dahlia Hawtorne."

8 months later…

April 9th 2014

"Hayden, don't mess with your mask. We've spoken about this." Miles said as he zipped the boy's jacket up. "If you want to go to preschool with a cold-"

"I do!"

"Then you need to wear the facemask so you don't give other people your cold. They don't want to be sick anymore then you do."

Hayden nodded and pulled his hands away from the little blue face mask, instead, toying the necklace that had scarcely left his person since it had been given to him.

"It's show n' tell, papa. I wanna show the necklace Dollie gave me."

"Miss Dollie." Miles corrected. "You should always call adults mister or miss, unless they tell you it's okay not to."

"Are you giving the kiddo some etiquette lessons this morning?" Came Phoenix's muffled voice from his own face mask. Miles wasn't sure who had come home with a cold first, but at the first sniffle, Miles had started popping vitamins like candy and seemed to have dodged the proverbial bullet.

"Someone in this house has to." Miles muttered, giving their son a once over before standing up and facing Phoenix. "Do you have the cold medi-... Phoenix?"

"Yeah, Miles?"

"What on god's green earth are you wearing?"

Phoenix looked down at the oversized, bright pink sweater with a slightly lopsided red heart surrounding a giant yellow 'P'. It was the single most ridiculous thing Miles had ever seen Phoenix wear, and was counting that stupid hobo hat Butz had made that was buried deep inside the hallway closet.

"Well, it's laundry day and Dollie went through the trouble of making this for me and I don't want to her to feel bad…" Phoenix trailed off.

Miles shook his head in disbelief. "You are an unbelievable sap. Between you wearing that horrendous pile of yarn and Hayden insisting she's a princess from one of his movies, I'm starting to feel a little left out. Am I ever going to get a chance to meet this famous Dollie of yours?"

"Well, I've tried inviting her over a few times, but she's always so busy. That girl needs to take a break once in awhile, know?" Phoenix nearly laughed at the irony. He couldn't remember the last time he had a full day to do absolutely nothing and he was pretty sure Miles couldn't either.

Miles smiled and considered tugging Phoenix's mask down and risk a quick kiss. But as he leaned closer, Phoenix sneezed so hard but damn thing nearly flew off. Instead he reached out to straighten the mask with a sigh. "As I was saying earlier, you have the cold medicine, right?"

Phoenix nodded and pulled out the ColdKiller X bottle from his pocket and gave it a little shake. "Right here! The doctor said it was fine for Hayden to take some as long as it's only half a tablet. I gave him one this morning at breakfast, so I'll give him the other one when I get him for lunch."

"Good. That'll keep you from forgetting to take it yourself. And if he looks worse when you get him at lunch, call me and I'll come get him."

"You'll come get him? And then what? You'll bring him to your office and make that poor detective you run ragged babysit him?" Phoenix teased.

"I do not run him ragged. I make sure he does his job."

"You do. Very loudly and with threats of a pay cut. Can you even do you that?"

"If he does what he's supposed to, we'll never have to find out."

"Well aren't you a sneaky little thing? But I suppose that's just par for the course for the evil, yet devastatingly handsome, Demon Prosecutor."

"You and that pink sweater better be in the car on the count of ten or I'm divorcing you."

"But we're not married…"

"Ten…"

"Okay, I'm going!" Phoenix said, hurrying out the front door, laughing and sneezing all the way.

Hayden took his father's hand as they finally left their apartment. "Papa… you and daddy are weird."

Phoenix had to admit, paying a little extra to enroll Hayden in Ivy University's pre-school program had been one of better financial decisions he and Miles had made.

Hayden seemed to love it there and the teachers were very kind and flexible. Phoenix always felt a lingering twinge of guilt from putting his son in daycare and preschool for so long. When Hayden had been an infant he had confided to Gregory that he felt like a selfish jackass for making the choice to keep his son, only to dump him in a daycare so he could get his life together. Meanwhile he could have given Hayden to a more stable family who would have all the time in the world for him.

Thankfully, Gregory had been understanding. "Parenthood isn't easy at any age, Nick, whether you're seventeen or thirty four. Make the time you spend with Hayden count, and just remember why you're doing this in the first place."

"To give Hayden the best life possible."

"Yup. So when you're old and grey he'll let you stay in a wing of his mansion when he becomes a famous sports player or musician or astronaut or whatever…"

"Is this your not so subtle way of telling me you want a wing in mine and Miles' possible future mansion?"

"That was the plan, yes."

"Deal."

"Good. I'm going to call Miles and tell him I have a new favorite child."

The conversation had ended on its usual ridiculous note, but Phoenix had taken the advice to heart and tried to remind himself of this over the years. Fortunately, Ivy University's preschool let him come pick Hayden up for lunch, allowing Phoenix to spend a little more time with his son during the way.

Despite his cold, Hayden seemed as full of energy as ever and dragged Phoenix all the way to the common area where Dahlia was waiting with lunch. It had become a nice little tradition since they had met Dollie in the courthouse reading room. Sometimes Phoenix's other friends would show up on occasion, but for the most part, it was just the three of them. Hayden was absolutely enamored with Dollie and she was more then happy to humor the little boy.

"You ever thought about being a teacher?" Phoenix asked, pulling his face down to take another bite of his sandwich. "Don't get me wrong, your writing and your photography is pretty awesome." He gestured to Dahlia's camera at the end of the table. "But you're really good with kids, too."

"Well, aren't you sweet?" Dahlia said with a laugh. "Here, I have a surprise for you. Now, close your eyes, Feenie!"

Phoenix did as he was told. He silently prayed it was one of Dahlia's heavenly cupcakes. He was pretty sure could happily live off of them for the rest of his life.

Sadly, it wasn't a cupcake. It wasn't food at all. Instead he felt a pair of soft lips against his own.

"D-Dollie!" Phoenix sputtered, furiously wiping his mouth. "What the fuc- heck was that?!"

"Ewww!" Hayden cried, bits of macaroni flying out of the child's mouth. "Dollie, you're gonna get germs!"

But Dahlia just laughed; the sound soothing some of Phoenix's ruffled feathers. "Oh, Feenie, I'm sorry! I just saw your face and couldn't help myself. Here, this is the real surprise." She reached into her lunch basket and pulled out a red velvet cupcake in all it's heavenly glory.

Phoenix took the cupcake begrudgingly. "Fine, fine… But if you end up getting my cold, don't expect me to share my cold medicine with you. Speaking of colds, it's medicine time kiddo." He ignored Hayden's over exaggerated gagging sounds as he reached into his pocket for his ColdKiller X.

Huh… he could have sworn it had been in his pocket all day. Maybe he had put in his book bag?

Phoenix dug around through his bag with a confused frown. "That's so weird. I know I took it with me. Darn it, I don't have time for this. My next class is in ten minutes."

Dahlia frowned in sympathy. "Don't worry Feenie, I'm sure you'll find it. Why don't I help you look after classes today? I'd hate to think you and Hayden would have to go without your cold medicine."

"Yeah, that would be great! Saving up for a house kind of eats into your budget so finding that bottle would be a big help!"

After a quick clean up, Phoenix and Hayden said their goodbyes to Dahlia and hurried back across the campus to the preschool. They had only made it halfway when a student Phoenix was pretty sure he had never seen before approached them.

"Excuse me, your name is Phoenix, yes?"

"Yeah, it is. Can I help you with something, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

The young took a quick glance around, making sure no one was in earshot. Which of, course, put Phoenix completely at ease. "I need to talk to you right now. It's about that girl, Dahlia."

Oh my god, if this is another person asking me if Dollie is single, I think I'm gonna scream.

"Look, uh…"

"Doug. Doug Swallow."

"Right. I need to drop my son off and get to class before I'm late. If this is really that important to you, I can meet you after my class is over. Say, uhh… 2:45 ish?" Phoenix hoped that would do for now. He really didn't want to be rude, but there was only so many times he could use his kid as an excuse for showing up late to class.

Thankfully, Doug nodded. "It is, important. Meet me behind the pharmacology building and I'll explain everything." And with that, Doug Swallow hurried off, giving Phoenix a full view of a large Union Jack on the back of his shirt. It was a little tacky looking, but considering he was wearing a pink handmade sweater with a giant 'P' on the front, he didn't have any room to judge.

"That girl... You shouldn't see her anymore."

"Hey! It's none of your business!"

"I'm telling you for your sake. If you continue to see her, it's going to be bad news."

"Y-You're lying!"

"Just listen to me. There's something you need to know about that girl… You're putting your kid in danger. What kind of parent does that?"

"Stop it! Y-you leave my son out of this!"

"...*huff*...*huff*..."

"Argh! How did I get into this mess?"

"Why...? Why did I do that...?"

"It-It wasn't me! I-I d-didn't... I didn't do it!"

"Edgeworth speaking." Miles cradled his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he continued to write up his final report for the evening. So far it was looking as if he'd make it out of here in a decent hour. Today's trial had been surprisingly simple, which made for easy follow up paperwork.

"Mr. Edgeworth? Hi, this is Carol from Ivy University Preschool." The woman on the other line replied, "I'm calling because I'm a little concerned. Hayden normally gets picked up by Mister Wright at around 3:15 everyday. It's a little past five now and he's still here and we close at 5:30. We've tried calling Mister Wright a few times, but we haven't gotten a response and you were listed as the emergency contact…"

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

"I'll be there as quickly as I can." Miles hung up the phone and snatched his car keys. He didn't even bother shutting down his computer as he hurried out the door.

Shit. Don't panic. Don't overthink it. Do not assume the worst the yet. Just pick your son, make sure he's safe, then focus on Phoenix. He's probably just fine.

...Please be just fine.

"Hey, Edgeworth," Neil Marshal stuck his head in Miles' office. "I've got a case for you. Pretty interesting one to. Some college kid was murdered on campus. Electrocution of all things. My caseload is pretty full and this one going to trial tomorrow. You want to take a crack at it compadre? Edgeworth?"

Now that Neil got a good look at the office there was a distinct lack of their prosecutor prodigy. Huh… did that little workaholic actually cut out early today? Good for him. Kid's gonna kill himself if he doesn't slow things down a bit.

"Hey, Payne!" Neil shouted as he shut the door to Miles' office. "Got a fun one for you for tomorrow!"

A/N: Gotta say, writing this out was fun. I'd forgotten how badly I wanted to get this part in the story. Oh man, looking back at the rest of this story makes me cringe something awful. If I had the energy, I would go back and change a TON of things. But that's life. You live and you learn. If there's anyone here who still remembers this thing from the kink meme, the rest of this story is going to be nothing like it.