Chapter Text
"God, I'm nervous. Out of all the times to do a sting operation or a sitout or whatever the hell this is, Spilt chooses to do it at night."
Miles gives Phoenix a truly appalled look from where they crouch behind two tall leafy ferns, eyes fixed on the eastern janitorial entrance near Lordly Tailor. Wright, I love you, but you're such a damn idiot sometimes.
"Wright. Criminals almost always do their business at night. It's easier to hide that way. I'm starting to reconsider bringing you with me."
"Why did you?"
Miles shifted. He didn't tell Phoenix that the moment he had set foot in his office, he had spotted a single pink card with a seashell on it resting on his desk. Even more concerning than the card was the single black lock of hair tied in blue ribbon, the scent of Phoenix's hair gel still detectable even in the jasmine-scented chambers of the Chief Prosecutor. It had lain there with an almost eerie innocence, while Miles had dropped his case files and clutched the desk with white-knuckled shock.
"I...had a hunch you'd be safer with me, Wright. It's only natural for those close to the Chief Prosecutor of the city to get the same protection." Inwardly, Miles swelled with pride, looking at the small posse of four heavily armored policemen and the black bulletproof vest Wright wore beneath his blue suit jacket. If there was one benefit Miles truly enjoyed about having an important legal position, it was the ability to be able to keep his loved ones safe.
"Aww, you've gone soft, haven't you?"
"Keep that up, Wright, and I will have to hire Mr. Justice to defend me in the aftermath of your mysterious demise."
Phoenix opened his mouth to reply, only to stiffen in surprise and jerk his head frantically towards the mall entrance. A rather shady looking, pale man with beady eyes and a strong chin was slinking towards the jewelry display cases, gun in hand. Five other men clad in all black tiptoed ominously behind him, reminding Phoenix of the finger-snapping lackeys from West Side Story.
Miles motions two of the police officers forward with a wave of his hand, drawing his own revolver with a look of steely resolve. He looks directly at Phoenix, pointing down at the ground as he mouths, "Stay here."
Then, in a swish of magenta and the frenzied shouts of his police protection, Miles was gone.
Phoenix could hardly hear the gunshots and scuffling. His gaze was intently focused on Miles, who had been held back by two burly henchmen. Miles grunted as he kicked one man in the shin, whirling on the other to aim a painful jab to the man's nose. Phoenix almost smiled with pride as he heard the crunch of the man's nose breaking. I never would have taken you for a badass, Miles, he thought, gazing at his boyfriend dreamily through the leaves of a large potted fern.
The four remaining policemen had tackled and handcuffed the rest of the men fairly quickly, with the two that Edgeworth had incapacitated sheepishly trudging forward as soon as Miles had finished kicking their sorry asses. Miles made his way back to Phoenix, offering him a hand and pulling Wright to his feet. "I dare say, those robbers are worse at their job than our bumbling detective," he said smugly.
Phoenix nudged him. "Hey, Gumshoe's gotten better."
The pair of them were so busy chuckling over the misfortune of the poor detective that they hardly noticed when Spilt broke free of a policeman's grip, sprinting at Edgeworth with a knife.
Edgeworth stared in shock as Phoenix stepped in front of him, swiftly kicking Spilt in the groin. The man went down like a stone in water, groaning in pain as the knife in his hand clattered to the floor.
"Give it a rest, Spilt," Phoenix snarled, and Miles felt heat rush to his cheeks. When had Phoenix's anger made him this entranced?
"You'll never catch all of us, mate," Spilt rasped, blood shining on his teeth as he gave them both a foul grin.
"Perhaps not. But at least we've caught you," Edgeworth said coldly as he snapped a pair of handcuffs upon Spilt.
Spilt growled at him, but Miles simply stood and gave Phoenix a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that this dreadful affair is over, what do you say to some lunch?"
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"I did NOT defend the orca just to mock you, Miles, you know better than that!"
Edgeworth smirked at the man opposite him, who was gesticulating so wildly that he was nearly in danger of spilling his wine all over the pristine tablecloth.
"You're going to make a fool of us both if you end up ruining our table with some unfortunately placed Pinot Noir."
Phoenix blanched as Miles chuckled lightly, choosing to inch his glass over next to the saltshakers rather than reply to Miles' witty jab.
"Y'know, I was planning something nice for just the two of us, but with you being such a pompous smartass, I'm just going to have to call it off."
Miles raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? At least tell me what it was."
Phoenix grinned. "Nope."
Miles' brows furrowed, and he took a contemplative sip of red wine. "Your finances are not as well-kept as mine, so it stands to reason it must be something that is reasonably cheap, but still holds enough charm for it to be palatable to my interests. Was it the Steel Samurai convention? Because you know I already-"
"Not even close. And I'll have you know, my finances are much better than they were. They've improved enough for me to actually feel like I'm treating you."
Miles took off his glasses, squinting at Phoenix with either suspicion or blindness as he polished them. "Hnn. If you accepted Oldbag's invitation to the Will Powers Gala, then I'm going to have to decline."
"Not that either. You'll figure it out in no time, Miles."
Miles put his glasses back on with a sigh. "I insist upon paying for this meal if you're going to take me out, then."
Phoenix's eyes sparkled. "Still not what I had in mind," he chuckled. "It's much better."
Miles twiddled his thumbs, looking down at his plate, peering into the silvery depths of his spoon. A museum? Surely not, Miles had been certain that they had gone just last week. A carnival? No, there were none in town. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice when Phoenix sidled out from his side of the quiet little booth and knelt down on one knee beneath him.
That is, until the sparkle of the diamond ring caught his eye and his entire world stopped.
"Phoenix..."
"Miles Edgeworth," Phoenix breathed, eyes glimmering with tears. "When I saw you again after all those years, I couldn't even pretend to hate you. The Miles I knew was still in there, and I knew that you'd fight for the truth more than anything. We've seen some hard cases, harder trials in life, and throughout it all, I never stopped loving you. Since that night where we talked about marrying, I realized that it's all I want, all I could ever hope for. And I know you thought about it too. So...Miles, will you marry me?"
Miles' breath left him in one great rush of air, and he nearly stumbled out of the booth, barely able to see through the blurry tears suddenly obscuring his vision. He cupped Phoenix's face in his, touching their foreheads together.
"Yes. With all my heart, Phoenix, yes!"
Phoenix laughed, sliding the ring onto Miles' finger with a watery smile.
Miles could hardly believe this was happening. He wasn't even scandalized at the publicity of Wright's proposal. All he could think of was the overwhelming joy filling his heart as Phoenix softly pressed his lips to his.
Phoenix appeared to have mastered the art of not breaking Miles' heart.