The Art of Being Frilly

Nine Months to Work It Out - Chapter 5

2008-05-17T10:42:15Z

Title: Nine Months to Work It Out
Pairing: Phoenix/Miles
Rating: Main story will be PG-13. There will be NC-17 bonus chapters for you horndogs.
Warnings: Slash, double mpreg
Information: So, shortly after I uploaded the previous chapter, college started kicking my ass. Now, however, finals are over and I'm back to working on this story. If you're still with me after a two-month hiatus, I absolutely adore you. Thanks for coming back. Thanks for reading.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4

Phoenix wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had sat down with his copy of Four Hundred Million Baby Names, but he guessed it was approaching two hours. Edgeworth had given him the book a week ago, insisting that if he started now, he could read the whole book and pick one between now and the arrival of his child.

Frankly, Phoenix was offended that Miles had felt the need to give him this, all because he had suggested “Phoenix Junior” and “Miles Junior” when the subject of naming had come up. Edgeworth's expression could have curdled milk, but all he had said was, “And what if we both deliver girls?”

“Phoenixette and Milesina” was apparently not the right answer to that. Live and learn, Phoenix supposed.

After that, Phoenix had briefly considered “Gregory” for a son, but he had the feeling that Miles would stab him in the kidney for bringing such things up even as well-intentioned sentimentality. With help from the baby book, Phoenix had since given due consideration and then dismissal to William, too old-fashioned, Michal, too Jewish, and Desdemona, lovely, but literally meaning “born of demons.”

If Edgeworth had had any success on the baby-naming front, Phoenix had not been made privy to it. Since his early pregnancy nausea had gone away, the prosecutor had been working longer and longer hours, as though desperate to immerse himself in work and forget about the peculiar situation he had found himself in.

Phoenix sighed and looked down at his form, where his red tie that had once hung rail straight now curved a bit close to the bottom, accommodating the rounding of his belly that was only just becoming visible. At five months along, he had still not told Maya or Pearl, though the former had certainly noticed his strange behavior and had given him an undue amount of ribbing over the “burger weight” he had put on. He would have to let them know soon. Maya would, he expected, initially react with surprise and indignation that he had not felt the need to inform her sooner, but she would soon get over it and delight in the idea of playing auntie. Pearl, however, would probably never forgive him, and lately he had caught himself dreading her finding out.

He rested his hand on the bulge in his belly. He didn't know if he was supposed to be able to feel the baby move yet, but that didn't stop him from trying most anytime he had a moment to himself. So far, there had been nothing, but yesterday's ultrasound had shown what seemed to be a normal, healthy mid-term baby. He had even watched the tiny lungs expanding and contracting on the monitor, breathing amniotic fluid in preparation for life.

Of course, if watching the unborn child breathe was emotional for Phoenix, it was utterly beyond description for Edgeworth. Privately, Phoenix had noticed the look in the other man's eyes, not unlike the one he had had the first time he had seen his child's heart flickering away inside its chest. His breathing had slowed to match the child's, and they had shared some kind of moment that Phoenix could not begin to describe despite having witnessed it. Something about the ultrasounds seemed to bring an aura to Edgeworth that was never seen outside them, something infinite and beautiful beyond comparison.

The click of the door brought the defense attorney back from his musing, and he quickly tucked the book away into the middle drawer of his desk. Pearl bounded in, her face practically glowing, and Maya followed close behind her, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Smiling at both girls fondly, Phoenix heard himself ask, “What are you two so excited about?”

“There's a carnival in town, Mr. Nick!” Pearl answered, her eyes wide and full of wonder. “Mystic Maya took me on the fairy wheel, and the scrambler, and in some giant teacups that spun around really, really fast!”

“Ferris wheel, Pearly,” Maya corrected, though her smile did not waver as she turned her attention to Phoenix. “Carnivals don't ever come to Kurain Village,” she explained, somewhat unnecessarily given Pearl's elation.

“I ate a hot dog and a funny cake with strawberry sauce,” Pearl announced proudly.

Phoenix looked at Maya. “A funny cake?”

Maya giggled. “She means a funnel cake, Nick.”

Pearl deflated a little. “That's right. A funnel cake. Why's it called that, anyway? It doesn't look like a funnel at all!”

“It's made by pouring batter through a funnel,” Phoenix explained. “If they didn't funnel it into the oil, it would just be a big, oily pancake.” Pearl nodded in understanding, and Phoenix looked at Maya. “Did you bring me back some lunch?”

Maya puffed up her cheeks. “What? Nick, you don't think I brought you back food when I was busy showing Pearly the carnival rides and food, do you? It was something every kid should get to do sometime, don't you think?”

Phoenix sighed. It was typical of Maya, and he wasn't really surprised, but he was hungry. “I sent you out for lunch, and you came back empty-handed except for that little bit of cotton candy in Pearls's hair.”

“It's not like we're not going to go out for dinner with Mr. Edgeworth,” Maya protested. She looked at Phoenix appraisingly and then leaned over the desk to poke his belly. “Besides, it doesn't look like you really need to eat.”

“Hey!” the defense attorney protested, batting at her hand. Any further objection fell silent, however, as there was nothing that could really appease Maya without revealing the truth. He sighed in defeat. “Alright, you're right. We're going out for dinner in a couple of hours.”

A couple of hours was really more like four, and by the time that Phoenix found himself standing on the sidewalk outside Burger Palace with Maya and Pearl, he felt as though he could eat a house. His stomach rumbled with a fierceness that rivaled Maya's, prompting a whole new barrage of teasing as they waited for Edgeworth.

A significant part of Phoenix had been convinced that the prosecutor was not going to show up, and he was therefore surprised to see a familiar magenta suit moving through the crowd. Edgeworth nodded stiffly to Phoenix in greeting, but offered a small smile to Maya and Pearl as he looked up at the Burger Palace sign.

“This is where we're eating?” Edgeworth asked, as though praying the answer would be different this time than it had been the past three. The prosecutor deflated a bit when Maya offered a chipper “Yep!” in response.

The four filed in and were seated in a booth, Pearl hopping in next to Edgeworth as she insisted that Phoenix and Maya sit together. The side effect of this was that Phoenix and Edgeworth ended up sitting opposite each other, and the magenta-clad man seemed to be putting much more effort into not looking at Phoenix than was really necessary. He maintained his aloof-but-cordial persona, speaking to Maya with something that was not quite casualness until the burgers came, at which point the prosecutor picked his up with his hands and took a careful bite from it.

Phoenix watched with a hint of amusement. At least Edgeworth wasn't one of those weirdos who ate burgers with a fork and knife, but on the flipside, Phoenix had never seen anyone hold a burger in such a dainty fashion. Edgeworth's hands were curved around the edges, only touching the bun at his fingertips, and both pinkies were sticking up in the air as though he were holding a teacup instead of a cheeseburger.

The prosecutor had ordered his plain and well-done, probably for fear of something dribbling on his beloved cravat, and aside from his teacup pinkies, he ate it with a sort of normalcy that reminded Phoenix that, as neurotic as Miles Edgeworth could be, he too was human. He found himself watching the other man whenever he could, Maya and Pearl oblivious the whole time as they chattered endlessly about the carnival.

After the bill had been paid- by Edgeworth, with the shiniest Visa card Phoenix had ever seen- the party spilled out onto the sidewalk. To Phoenix's surprise, Edgeworth turned to Maya with an expression usually reserved for favored witnesses.

“If you would excuse us, there is something I need to discuss with Wright,” he told them, fishing in his wallet before handing a few bills to Maya. “Take this and go back to the carnival.”

Maya lit up like a Christmas tree as she took the money, giggling madly and grabbing for Pearl's hand. “Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth! C'mon, Pearly!” she yipped, nearly dragging the little girl with her down the sidewalk. Pearl twisted around, doing her best to wave goodbye as she was dragged away. Then the two disappeared into the crowd and were gone, leaving Phoenix and Edgeworth amidst the evening swirl of people moving up and down the street.

“Come with me, Wright,” Edgeworth commanded, and seeing little choice but to obey, Phoenix followed the gray-haired man to a parking garage and got into the passenger seat of Edgeworth's red sports car.

Immediately, Phoenix spied the bags filling up the back seat of the car, and as he settled himself into the rich leather seat, he pointed at them. “What are those?”

Edgeworth followed his gaze. “Nesting materials, it would seem,” he answered, narrowing his eyes as though challenging Phoenix to laugh at this notion.

Phoenix didn't, though he was still very confused. “Nesting materials?” he echoed, hoping for clarification.

Seeming to decide to show rather than tell, Edgeworth took one of the bags, which had the name of an insanely expensive department store on the side of it, and brought out a pink baby blanket in a plastic package. “Nesting,” Edgeworth clarified. “An instinct associated with pregnancy in which the expecting parent needs to create space for the child.”

Phoenix opened his mouth at the sight of the blanket to ask, “What if it's a boy?” before remembering who he was talking to. Instead, he asked, “Are you working on baby-proofing your apartment, then?”

Edgeworth scowled. “Considering the nature and cost of the things I keep in my apartment, I would be wiser to purchase a whole new house and furnish it with childproof things than attempt to make my current dwelling appropriate for a child.”

The black-haired man winced at that. It was something he hadn't really thought about, to be honest, but now that Edgeworth mentioned it, he could see that it was a real problem. Phoenix probably didn't own anything that could be ruined by a pair of small, sticky hands, and for him, childproofing the apartment was a matter of sticking plastic covers on his electrical outlets and tying the lower cabinets shut. For Edgeworth, accommodating a child was a complete upheaval of life as he knew it, and the number of sacrifices of his own comfort and familiarity that had to be made was higher than Phoenix cared to count.

The easy thing to do would have been to have an abortion and remain secure in the life he knew, and some part of Phoenix found itself with a sudden deep respect for the other man. He was giving up so much for a future he was afraid of. Not many people would have done it, and he felt his chest swell with affection.

Before Phoenix knew what he was doing, he had maneuvered himself into the prosecutor's arms and was kissing his lips with warm intensity. A noise of surprise rose out of Edgeworth's throat, and he moved one hand to Phoenix's chest as though to push him away before seeming to think better of it. Phoenix brought his hands up to cup the cheeks of his courtroom rival, ignoring the gear shift pressing into his ribs.

After a moment, Phoenix spoke, and Edgeworth hushed him with another kiss, an odd mix of urgency and need finding its way in. Suddenly, with the prosecutor's hand upon his thigh, Phoenix was keenly aware that neither of them had ventured near the possibility of sex with anyone since the day they had learned of their predicament.

“I respect you,” may well have been the strangest words ever spoken amidst an impromptu make-out session in a parking garage, but as the engine purred to life and the car began its trip back to Edgeworth's apartment, Phoenix had a hard time thinking he had been wrong to say them.

Nine Months to Work It Out - Chapter 4

2008-02-13T06:18:22Z

Title: Nine Months to Work It Out
Pairing: Phoenix/Miles
Rating: Main story will be PG-13. There will be NC-17 bonus chapters for you horndogs.
Warnings: Slash, double mpreg
Information: So, ten days later than I originally promised it, here’s chapter four. Laptop woes plus mounds of homework have slowed down the writing process significantly, and I thank all of you who are sticking with me through this. As always, comments are welcomed and anonymous commenting is enabled.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3

Edgeworth wasn’t happy with the changes occurring in his body, and Phoenix really didn’t know what to do about it. He had earned himself a three days’ supply of cold shoulder for daring to utter the word “man-boobs” and an extra week for attaching the adjective “cute.”

Once the prosecutor had deigned to speak to him again, he had gotten a lecture on male anatomy- without a practical demonstration, mind you- and how men had the ability to produce milk, but generally not the hormones to cause it, and isn’t that interesting, Wright, and your glands really should be developing by now so maybe there’s something wrong with you.

“Other than the fact that I’m a pregnant man?” he had managed to interject there.

Edgeworth had looked at the receiver sourly, of that Phoenix was certain. “You would think that the novelty would have worn off by now and you would have begun to entertain more practical concerns,” he had said.

Phoenix had just grinned at him and answered, “Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you?” at which point Edgeworth had hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh and a threat to come to the defense attorney’s apartment.

Just in case, Phoenix had spent the past hour trying to get his humble abode up to Edgeworth standards. He had filled two big black bags with garbage and cleaned off all the surfaces he could given the limited number of household cleaners he could safely use.

He was considering scrubbing the toilet when the knock on the door came. It was sharp and strong, and Phoenix had the stray notion that it was cultivated for intimidation, designed for use on the doors of hapless detectives and unfortunate colleagues.

Phoenix opened the door to find a decidedly tired-looking Edgeworth. Whatever wrath he had incurred earlier had apparently melted away into exhaustion. He stepped back invitingly, and Edgeworth stepped in. He took his usual cursory look around.

“I hope you don’t plan on raising your child in this filthy place,” he commented.

Your. It was always “your child” or “my child,” depending on to which he was referring. Never “our.” Never any sense of reliance upon Phoenix. Never any acknowledgement of the idea that they were in this together.

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Wright,” Edgeworth said, his tone condescending, “you are four months pregnant. In another five, you’re going to have to take care of another person. You need to prepare for that. Where will you live? How will you support a child on your meager earnings?”

“The man who wanted to wait to see what to do because he didn’t want to admit that it was real is suddenly so concerned with me?” Phoenix asked. There was no real spite or bitterness to the tone, only the wariness that came with knowing Edgeworth was laying a trap for him to walk into.

Surely enough, Edgeworth frowned. “I was offering a solution, actually.”

Phoenix raised his eyebrows, the tone catching him broadside enough for him to look hopeful. “You mean-“ he began.

“I mean I think I should raise both children, seeing as I have the means to support them.”

Phoenix stared. He felt what he thought was a surge of anger until he felt his face crumple. His eyes suddenly blurred and he found himself looking at Edgeworth through a filter of tears.

He was about to curse his hormones aloud when he saw the shocked expression on Edgeworth’s face. He had caught him off-guard in return wholly by accident.

“How could you say that?” he asked in a whisper, surprised to hear no anger in his own voice, only hurt. “Why would you take my child away from me? Why, when you know what it feels like to see that monitor and hear that heartbeat?”

Edgeworth actually looked sorry. This was his chance.

“Miles, I meant it when I said I wanted this to work. Us to work. Look at it as a practical arrangement if you must, an opportunity for both of us to not miss out on the lives of our kids, but give me a chance!” Phoenix pleaded. He was pleading. Pleading. Stupid hormones. Damn them. Damn them straight back to-

“Fine.”

“What?”

Edgeworth stared at him. “I said fine.”

Phoenix stared back, unknowingly hanging his mouth open rather like a startled fish.

The prosecutor shrugged. “It was preferable to you having a mental breakdown.”

“Uh… thanks,” Phoenix replied hesitantly.

Edgeworth ignored him and went on, “We’ll just have to find a suitable living arrangement. Two apartments with a common area, perhaps.”

Phoenix blinked. “Why can’t we just, you know, live together?”

The prosecutor scoffed. “What makes you think I want to live with you?”

“I think that was a risk you took when you said, ‘Here, Wright, try this tea.’” Phoenix’s impression of Edgeworth’s voice was passable, and he smiled a little, pleased with himself.

“Believe me, if I had known what would happen-“ Edgeworth began, but cut himself off.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have done it?” he suggested.

To his surprise, and Edgeworth’s credit, the prosecutor did not answer immediately. “I certainly would not have chosen to become the science-defying vessel of the child of a man with no culture and limited intelligence.” Before Phoenix had the chance to splutter indignantly, Edgeworth went on, “But since it did happen, no, I wouldn’t undo it.”

The defense attorney’s expression twisted into a half-smile. “Me either,” he said softly.

Edgeworth shifted uncomfortably. “Now, Wright, if you’ve had quite enough of this so-called male bonding, I ha-“

“I haven’t,” Phoenix interrupted.

The prosecutor blinked. Thrown off by Wright yet again. “…What?”

“You want me to get serious about this, so here I am being serious,” Phoenix said firmly. “You may have the money to raise a child in the lap of luxury, but kids need one thing than all the toys and expensive diapers and private schools in the world, and that is a loving family.”

“If you are suggesting that I do not and will not love my child-“ Edgeworth began warningly.

Phoenix was quick to shake his head ‘no,’ and Edgeworth fell silent.

“I meant, you know, parents who love each other, who serve as the example that there are good things in the world,” the black-haired man explained.

Edgeworth was frowning. For all his genius and costly education, the man was a complete idiot when it came to emotional matters, especially matters of expression. Phoenix pressed onward.

“I know you think a relationship with me is a stupid idea and you were perfectly happy just using me for sex, but don’t you think there are two people we owe it to to at least give it a shot?”

Bullseye. Phoenix had managed to hit Edgeworth’s overactive guilt gland with a straight shot. The prosecutor was staring at him, chewing the inside of his lip.

“What, exactly, am I supposed to do?” he demanded.

“Think less,” Phoenix answered, then moved to cut off any response by wrapping one arm around the other man’s waist and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Those lips trembled just a bit underneath his, as though they were fighting the will of their owner. It was several seconds before willpower won the battle and Edgeworth pulled away.

“Smooth, Wright,” he spat with what was surely meant to be sarcasm, but it lacked venom. “I suppose you think this is a happy world ruled by true love, and all you have to do to solve every issue between us is to kiss me?”

Phoenix knew better than to get angry when he was this close to winning. The look on Edgeworth’s face was one he’d seen many times while he picked apart a prize witness. He was close to admitting defeat, to seeing the truth of Phoenix’s side of the story. The defense attorney replied coolly, “Not really. I was planning on groping you a little, too.”

Edgeworth sighed. “I’ll ignore that for now. What exactly makes you think I can love you?”

The defense attorney blinked. “Huh?”

The other man raised an eyebrow coolly. “As loveable as you undoubtedly believe you are, I can’t just up and fall for you.”

Phoenix was too confused to be insulted. “Why not?”

Edgeworth frowned and didn’t answer. Phoenix knew that face by now. It was the one that signaled his treading into uncertain and dangerous waters, namely things pertaining to Edgeworth’s upbringing and Manfred von Karma. Maybe it was the hormones, but this time he didn’t have any inkling to back down.

“Edgeworth,” Phoenix persisted. He knew better than to say he deserved an answer. For one thing, Edgeworth already knew it, and for another, sounding as though he had a sense of entitlement wouldn’t help him at all.

“Wright,” Edgeworth said quietly. “It was strange and difficult enough just to become your friend again.”

“And what, you’re afraid that I’m just going to vanish out of your life and leave you friendless again?” Phoenix accused.

Edgeworth once again chose not to answer.

“If you’re that concerned about me leaving you, you’re already attached, so why not just take a leap?” Phoenix asked, running a hand through his hair and upsetting the spikes.

“I’m not like you, Wright,” came the answer. The tone was remorseful rather than caustic, and Phoenix could not bring himself to take offense, so instead he simply stood there and pondered Edgeworth’s words.

The only thing that really surprised him about them, upon reflection, was that Edgeworth had said them at all. For him, this was downright open and honest, and that in itself said something.

It was then that Phoenix realized that, somewhere within Edgeworth, there was someone who wanted desperately to accept Phoenix’s view of the future, and that part of himself probably seemed entirely alien to collected, indifferent, stuffy Edgeworth.

Last time he had put Edgeworth through an identity crisis, Phoenix had been left with what appeared to be a suicide note and a head full of angry questions.

With that in mind, the defense attorney just took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the other man, resting his head on his shoulder and squeezing him for all he was worth.

“Wright!” came the automatic protest, but Phoenix didn’t let go.

“I’ve owed you this ever since that earthquake. Now just hug me back, alright?”

And, very stiffly, Edgeworth did.

Nine Months to Work It Out - Chapter 3

2008-02-01T06:10:22Z

Title: Nine Months to Work It Out
Pairing: Phoenix/Miles
Rating: Main story will be PG-13. There will be NC-17 bonus chapters for you horndogs.
Warnings: Slash, double mpreg
Information: This chapter was so long in coming because it has, as of now, been written three separate times. The first attempt was lost to the death throes of my laptop, which I didn't recognize for what they were, so I rewrote it on there only to have the thing go completely dead from a bad hard drive, from which no data could be rescued. So here's the third write. I'm not entirely happy with it, but at this point, it's mostly a transition chapter between Chapter Two that I wrote before the fiasco and Chapter Four, which was handwritten in a notebook until I managed to get Internet access again. Anyway, here it is. I'm sorry about your wait. Chapter Four should be up no later than Saturday.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 • Chapter 2

ETA: So as not to compromise the spirit of the anonymous kink meme, anonymous commenting on this fic (and any others that come in the future) will always be enabled. Comments make me smile, and I don't have the IP logging command turned on or anything, so knock yourselves out. ^.^

I apologize to anyone who tried to comment before now only to find that anonymous comments were disabled. They were never supposed to be. I didn't realize that no-anon was the default for new journals now, but it has been fixed.

"It sounds like a washing machine!" Phoenix exclaimed with a grin, holding his hands over the earpieces of his headset and, truthfully, looking pretty nerdy in the process.

Edgeworth arched a gray eyebrow and kept his arms crossed, tapping his finger on the magenta fabric.

"C'mon, Miles, listen to it!" Phoenix insisted, taking the headset off and thrusting it in Edgeworth's direction.

The prosecutor held out his hands and took the device, opening his mouth to deliver a rebuke in response to the use of his first name. "Do not-" was all that he managed to get out, however, before cutting himself off when he settled the headset over his own ears. "...It does," he confirmed.

Phoenix's expression was halfway between You actually own a washing machine? and You actually use it yourself? but Edgeworth took no notice, all of his attention suddenly focused on this strange sound. The Doppler instrument was indeed delivering a distant, rapid sloshing noise, and it was actually quite bewildering.

"Is the heart supposed to be beating that quickly?" he asked the technician, sending Phoenix an accusing glare that was probably related to his caffeine consumption.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. It slows significantly before birth." She pointed to the image on the screen, where, Edgeworth noted, the flickering spot within the chest cavity was squeezing and relaxing in time with the sound. It had a surreal beauty to it that only existed in ephemeral moments like this one, things that could never be captured in ink or paint.

He must have stood transfixed longer than he realized, because Phoenix suddenly seemed impatient, holding out his hands, opening and closing his fingers like a small child gesturing to a cookie jar. "Don't hog it!" the defense attorney protested, and Edgeworth surrendered the headset with cultivated indifference.

Phoenix jammed it back onto his own head and grinned broadly again, then turned to look at the monitor. "Maybe we should name you Whirlpool," he said to the form on the screen.

The words were worth it just to see Edgeworth blanch.

"I was just kidding," Phoenix said, looking at the prosecutor as though this were very obvious. Phoenix tended to overestimate how much taste Edgeworth thought he had.

Edgeworth had already recomposed himself, and he nodded. "Of course." He looked at the monitor again, then down to where the technician's hands held two devices over Phoenix's abdomen. He cleared his throat. "Speaking of not hogging things, perhaps you should let me have my turn," he suggested.

Begrudgingly, Phoenix took off the headset and handed it to the technician, who set the instruments aside and wiped off Phoenix's bared skin. He pulled his shirt down and hopped off the table. "Be my guest," the defense attorney replied, doing a flamboyant impression of Edgeworth's courtroom bow.

Edgeworth removed his jacket, reluctantly pressing it into Phoenix's hands when he saw that there was nowhere in the small room that was a safer and less wrinkle-inducing place to put it. The black-haired man slung it over his arm, which made Edgeworth cringe as he perched himself on the table. Even in this setting, he kept his air of stuffiness, sitting rail straight on the edge of the exam table as though the rest of the seat were made of hot lava.

"Lie down, Mr. Edgeworth," the technician said, and he did so with a rigidity usually reserved for silver screen vampires settling into their coffins at sun up. Phoenix grinned as the prosecutor pulled his own shirt upward, not willing to let the poor technician touch it. He left his cravat on. Somehow, Phoenix wasn't surprised.

A moment later, a familiar sea of green and black appeared on the monitor, and after a bit of adjusting, the technician found the right angle. Edgeworth stared at the screen for a moment, and somehow Phoenix knew he was watching the heartbeat, telling himself that it was still there and all was well. He pursed his lips just slightly as he looked on at the heart, pumping merrily with no need of assistance or prompting from him. There was, perhaps, a soothing aspect to seeing things go right.

The technician had the headset on now and was moving the Doppler device across Edgeworth's pelvis with a frown. Up, over, to the side, and the frown got deeper.

Phoenix noticed it first, for once, probably because Edgeworth was too enamored with the image on the screen. "What is it?" the defense attorney asked.

"I can't hear the heartbeat," she said.

Edgeworth's head snapped to attention at that. "What?" he demanded.

The technician looked flustered. It seemed that every time they interacted, these two men threw off her professional sensibilities. "I can't find a place where I can hear it." She looked up at the monitor and nodded at it. "You can even see on the monitor. The placenta is in the way. It's blocking the sound waves."

"I see," came Edgeworth's answer, and his face hardened into its usual mask again. He looked back at the monitor, then sat up, pushing the technician's hands away. He grabbed the cloth from the nearby tray and wiped himself clean of the gel before climbing off the table and holding out an impatient hand for his jacket.

Phoenix held onto it dumbly.

"Wright. My jacket," he said sharply, grabbing the shoulder of it and tugging.

The defense attorney held on. "Wait a minute, Edgeworth, you can't just leave."

"I most certainly can," came the answer, and he gave the jacket a sharp tug.

Phoenix let go of it, and Edgeworth shrugged it smoothly onto his shoulders. He opened the door and strode out of it, and Phoenix scurried behind him with eyes wide in shock.

"Where do you think you're going?" the defense attorney demanded.

Edgeworth didn't look back. "Home," he said.

Phoenix ran to catch up to him and put a hand on Edgeworth's shoulder. The prosecutor tensed and stopped in his tracks, though he didn't turn his head to look back at the other man.

"Edgeworth," Phoenix demanded, letting his hand swivel around to face the other direction as he stepped around in front of his companion. "It was just bad luck that it's got that thing in the way, okay?"

"I realize that, Wright," came the cold response.

Phoenix stared at him, "Then why are you acting like that technician just handed our kid a death sentence?"

Edgeworth flinched, though it really could have been from any of the words in that sentence. Knowing Edgeworth, it was probably 'our' that got him more than 'death sentence', but one could never really be sure.

The defense attorney refused to back down. "Well?" he pressed.

Edgeworth looked away, his fingers tightening on his own sleeve. His arms were crossed in the same old defensive posture, and Phoenix sighed.

"Nevermind," Phoenix said, his tone becoming quiet. "I get it."

It was cruel, really, now that Phoenix thought about it. If seeing the small form on the monitor a month ago had made all of this real, not hearing the heartbeat had pushed it into the realm of unreality again. Somewhere in Edgeworth's haunted mind and corroded worldview, this surely seemed like a sign. They were both within two days of the three month mark, after which point the outlook would brighten, and some part of the prosecutor was undoubtedly convinced that things would go wrong for him at the very last possible moment.

Not unlike every other trial he had faced with Phoenix.

He moved so that he could meet Miles's eyes. "It's going to be fine," he said firmly. "Now come on. We're going to go get something to eat, because I'm not going to let you go home and throw yourself a gloom and doom party."

"I am not sure I want to eat anywhere that you would consider going," Edgeworth replied, a frown darkening his features.

Phoenix just grinned broadly. "Of course you don't want to, which is why you're going to the best, greasiest, noisiest diner I can think of."

Edgeworth probably would have reacted less negatively if Phoenix had told him they were having raw sewage, but in truth, his facial expression was priceless. "I'm not hungry," he said.

Phoenix rolled his eyes at that. "You're pregnant, and you're awake. Therefore, you're also hungry."

The prosecutor made a sour expression, and Phoenix finally dropped his hand to his side. "Edgeworth, come with me. You have to be hungry, and even if you aren't, not eating isn't good for... well, you know." He looked away.

The silver-haired man looked as though he was going to refuse, but he simply sighed. "Very well." He must have been hungry.

The establishment Phoenix chose certainly lived up to the standards of loudness and greasiness, though whether it was the best was yet to be seen, and Edgeworth looked as though he might be ill just standing in the doorway. It smelled like fire and grease and old smoke, and some ridiculously punchy pop song from their high school years was being piped through speakers by the jukebox in the corner.

A middle-aged waitress showed them to a booth with an impressive array of rips and cigarette burns in the red plastic surface. Edgeworth visibly restrained himself from demanding that the seat be attacked with Lysol before he got anywhere near it. Phoenix grinned up at him, wiggling around in his own seat to make it squeak.

"You spend far too much time in the company of Maya and Larry," the prosecutor observed, settling himself gingerly across from Phoenix.

The waitress came and took their drink orders, looking utterly unimpressed by their suits and telling Edgeworth in an oh-so-charming drawl that they didn't serve no bottled water, thank ya kindly. Given the choice between soda, tap water, and the travesty that was iced tea, the prosecutor chose the former. Soda couldn't be too harmful in small quantities, could it?

While she was gone, both men pored over the menus she had provided, Phoenix quite happily and Edgeworth quite looking like he was a cow being sent to the slaughterhouse. When she returned, she set two plastic cups on the table and dropped two straws wrapped in white paper beside them. She took out an order pad and asked eloquently, "What ya want?"

"Triple cheeseburger, dressed, with fries, please," Phoenix requested, and she nodded.

"And you?"

Edgeworth was chewing on the inside of his lip. "Chocolate chip waffles," he said. She nodded and reached to take his menu. "With a side of ham and a bowl of chili."

Phoenix stared. The waitress shrugged and scribbled it all down, then turned on her heel and marched to the kitchen.

"Edgeworth," Phoenix began, "you're-"

He was silenced with a glare. "Pregnant. Yes, Wright, I noticed."

Phoenix smiled. "Actually, I was thinking 'incorrigible'."

Nine Months to Work It Out - Chapter 2

2008-01-25T00:57:51Z

Title: Nine Months to Work It Out
Pairing: Phoenix/Miles
Rating: Main story will be PG-13. There will be NC-17 bonus chapters for you horndogs.
Warnings: Slash, double mpreg
Information: Kink meme prompt. This chapter has been edited in minor ways from the version posted on the kink meme.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1

Whatever decision Edgeworth had seemed to make one month prior had yet to make itself apparent to Phoenix. After the initial instance of cooperation- which, Phoenix realized now, was probably due to momentary fear-driven desperation on the part of Edgeworth- the prosecutor had resumed being his asocial, stuffy, and infuriatingly self-reliant self. Even now, as the defense attorney lounged on the couch at Wright and Co. Law Offices, with Maya chattering excitedly behind the desk about something pertaining to the Steel Samurai, Edgeworth was working another late night at the Prosecutors' Office.

Phoenix's morning sickness was tolerably infrequent, and there hadn't been any suspicious bleeding, so he assumed all was well, at least for himself. Edgeworth's body, though, was putting up far greater protest, which made the man extremely unpleasant on the rare occasion that Phoenix actually saw him. He had agreed to come by Phoenix's office when he left his own, but at this point, the defense attorney was wondering if it was going to be tomorrow before Edgeworth actually showed up.

When the knock on the door did finally come, almost an hour later, Phoenix and Maya had switched places, and the girl was snoozing peacefully on the couch with Phoenix watching her enviously. Maya, though she had certainly noticed a change in Phoenix's behavior, had thus far failed in getting the truth about it out of him, and Phoenix was perpetually thankful that he was in possession of her Magatama and she was not. Phoenix rose out of his chair and walked to the door, swinging it open and managing to get out a, "Hi, Edg-" before the magenta-wearing man pushed past him and disappeared into the bathroom. Phoenix winced as he heard retching and coughing from the other side of the door, and he immediately felt sorry for the other man.

The defense attorney went to the kitchen and got a glass of water with ice, then sat with it behind the desk until he heard the toilet flush, then water running in the sink. Edgeworth opened the door a moment later, his normally pale face having taken on the sort of unnatural pallor that only followed long bouts of throwing up. Phoenix held up the glass to him. "Here. Get the taste out of your mouth," he suggested, and Edgeworth took the glass and took a sip, then screwed up his face. "Sorry," Phoenix said. "All I had was tap water."

"So I see," Edgeworth said, looking at Phoenix expectantly.

"Uh... have a seat?" Phoenix offered.

"Where?" Edgeworth asked pointedly, and Phoenix scrambled to vacate the seat he had been sitting in.

"Here. You look worse than I do," he explained.

Edgeworth snorted. "Thank you," he replied, in the only tone in which he was comfortable saying such a thing, a sarcastic one. Phoenix nodded mutely, and Edgeworth walked around the desk and sat. Phoenix moved to sit on the desktop, pushing aside the papers on the area that seemed the least littered with them. The prosecutor sipped the water in silence, not looking at Phoenix.

With a glance over to make sure Maya was still sound asleep on the couch, the defense attorney asked in a low voice, "Have you been taking your vitamins?"

"Yes, for all the good it's doing when I just throw them back up," came the cranky response.

Phoenix nodded slowly. "You've been really sick, then, huh?"

If looks could kill, Edgeworth would have soon been on trial for murder again, and this time without Phoenix to defend him. "Yes. I've been sick. I get nothing done at the office between running to piss and running to puke. Actually going to court is almost unbearable. On the rare event that the nausea does not make me sorry I have eaten anything, the heartburn does, and my muscles do not cease to feel achy and fatigued." Phoenix winced and, though he had a sudden desire to reach out and put a comforting hand on Edgeworth's shoulder, he resisted the urge to do so at risk of having his fingers bitten off. Instead, he looked down at the cheap blue carpet.

"I'm sorry," he said for what might have been the fortieth time.

"Wright, why did you even ask me to come over here?" Edgeworth asked, his tone crisp and more than vaguely annoyed.

Phoenix shifted uncomfortably. "I just... wanted to see you," he said. "You know, before the ultrasound tomorrow."

"If that is all, then perhaps I should go home and fail to sleep as I have every night for the past two months."

The defense attorney sighed. "No, please don't go," he said, hopping down off the desk. Edgeworth gave him a look that was full of disdain, probably for his obvious lack of upsetting symptoms. "A month ago, I told you not to shut me out, that we were in this together." He stepped so that he was in Edgeworth's line of sight and bent over slightly to look him in the eye. "If this were a trial, you'd trust the police to give you the right evidence to let you put someone away. This is a different kind of trial, and you're just going to have to trust me to do what I can for you, too."

Edgeworth wasn't having any of it. He narrowed his eyes. "Just because I had an unfortunate lapse in judgment and slept with you does not mean I am under any obligation to trust you."

Multiple lapses in judgment, Phoenix mentally corrected. That stung. "Look," he said, "I know you're in the habit of having sex that doesn't mean anything, but I'm not. If you don't feel anything for the father of your child, so be it, but I do. Care for you, I mean."

If Edgeworth was normally icy, he was now a tundra. He stood up. "I'll see you at the clinic tomorrow, Wright," he stated, his tone clipped and final. Without waiting for a reply, probably because he knew he didn't want to hear it, the prosecutor walked to the door, swung it open, and disappeared into the hallway.

The sound of the door slamming woke Maya from her sleep and brought Pearl out of where she had been playing in Phoenix's office with the dolls he had gotten for her some time ago. "Mr. Nick?" the latter asked. "Why is Mr. Edgeworth mad?"

Maya pouted at that, as though she'd missed Christmas. "Nick! Mr. Edgeworth was here and you didn't even wake me up?"

"He... didn't stay long," Phoenix explained, looking away.

"Oh. That's a bummer," Maya conceded, then immediately brightened again. "Well, let's go get some burgers! We waited here forever for him, and I'm starving!"

* * *

Maya had agreed to take care of Pearl while Phoenix was gone to his "dentist appointment", so the ride downtown on the bus was quiet and, truth be told, pretty lonely. As he walked from the bus stop to the clinic, hands jammed into his pockets, he wondered if Edgeworth was already there, sitting in the waiting room, reading one of those three month old magazines with lots of recipes in it that always seemed to be lying around on the tables in such places.

The scene that greeted him when he himself walked into the clinic was even less appealing. It was crowded, so much that all the chairs were full and it was standing room only. In accordance with the sense of humor the universe often displayed, Edgeworth was seated at the end of one of the rows, next to a table, trying to absorb himself in a magazine while the little girl who sat in her mother's lap next to him stared as though he were a zoo exhibit. Most three-year-olds had probably not seen a man in a magenta suit before, let alone a cravat, and Phoenix found himself lurking in the doorway to watch. The mother of the little girl had apparently had to bring four other children with her, thanks to the joys of spring break, and three of them were noisily playing a battered game of Sorry while the fourth went around the room showing everyone an impressive bruise on his arm.

The little girl said something to her mother, who immediately looked horrified and shushed her. Phoenix decided he had played the voyeur long enough, so he walked over to where Edgeworth was sitting, carefully sidestepping the game board. "How long have you been here?" he asked by way of greeting.

Edgeworth looked up from the magazine, visibly perturbed. "Half an hour," he said.

"Our appointment isn't for another ten minutes," Phoenix observed.

"Some people find it prudent to arrive early," came the reply, and the prosecutor looked back down at his magazine.

Phoenix bent down to read the cover. "'Ten Ways to Drive Your Man Crazy Tonight'" he read aloud, causing Edgeworth's head to shoot upward again, eyes narrowed. The defense attorney gave his beloved rival his best cheeky grin. "Who knew you needed pointers?"

"I'll have you know that's not what I was reading," Edgeworth responded, his tone not quite even enough for him to have been telling the truth.

Phoenix just grinned, until he looked down and saw the little girl staring at him, at which point his cheeks reddened. He was about to apologize to the mother when the little girl asked, "Do you have a dog?"

The defense attorney blinked. Apparently small children were immune to innuendo. That was convenient. "No, I don't." He bent over again so that he was eye-level with her. "Do you have a dog?"

"No, sir," the little girl answered, looking sad. "Mommy says all they do is eat and shit."

Phoenix choked back a snicker as the girl's mother looked horrified and admonished her. "Rosa, don't say that word!"

When the scolding was done, Phoenix smiled at the little girl again. "So your name is Rosa? My name is Phoenix. How old are you, Rosa?"

The little girl looked up at her mother, as though asking for permission to answer. The mother nodded at her. Rosa held up three fingers then and proudly said, "I'm this many!"

"And how many is that?" Phoenix asked, and she responded by looking at Phoenix as though this were the dumbest question she had ever heard in her life.

"Three. Don't you know how to count?" she asked incredulously.

It wasn't until then that Phoenix was aware that Edgeworth had stopped reading and was paying attention to the exchange, because though his eyes were still on the page, one corner of his mouth had turned upward just a bit. Before the defense attorney could respond to the little girl, an orderly poked her head out of the ominous double doors and called, "Edgeworth."

Edgeworth stood, setting the magazine on the table. Phoenix frowned, unsure whether to follow until the other man said, "Come on, Wright."

Phoenix waved goodbye to Rosa and followed Edgeworth through the doors. The orderly was looking at her chart with a frown. "Mr. Edgeworth, right?" She got no response and frowned deeply. "Right. Who is this with you?" she asked, and again got no response.

"Phoenix Wright," Phoenix said, frowning a little himself as he extended a hand, which she shook awkwardly.

"You're not family, then?" she asked. "It's quite unorthodox for non-family to accompany patients back here." She looked down at the chart, then up at Edgeworth again. "Ah. I also see that your chart does not say why you are here. If you'd be so kind as to tell me so I can fi-"

"No," Edgeworth cut her off, and she blinked.

"Sir? The doctor will need to know what-" she tried.

"He knows," Edgeworth said simply, and the poor woman fell into silence.

"Alright then. Can I get you to step onto these scales for me, then?" she asked.

Phoenix was surprised when Edgeworth complied. After all, he had been being difficult so far, so why stop now? Knowing better than to voice this question, he simply followed as the nurse jotted down the number and led them into an exam room, where she made Edgeworth sit on the edge of the bed and took his blood pressure, which caused her to raise her eyebrows.

"Mr. Edgeworth, this reading is well above the normal level," she said, her voice showing an appropriate level of professional concern. "Are you feeling an unusually high level of anxiety over this visit?"

"No," Edgeworth said in response, and she nodded hesitantly and wrote down the number, then excused herself.

The wait for the doctor to arrive was long, quiet, and uncomfortable. After two failed attempts at engaging the other man in conversation, Phoenix gave up and contented himself with simply watching Edgeworth. He was always so cool and collected on the surface, yet there was something absolutely incomprehensible about him today. Maybe he was holding his eyes in an unusual way, or his hair was hanging differently, or maybe he was truthfully so nervous that the uncomfortable energy was simply radiating off of him. Regardless, Phoenix felt his heart swell again with pity as it had the day all of this had come to light. He had never seen a man with such an army at his disposal so determined to fight a battle alone.

The doctor's entrance into the room jarred Phoenix out of his thoughts. He greeted Edgeworth first, then looked to Phoenix. "Ah. You must be Mr. Edgeworth's partner," he stated. The way Edgeworth recoiled at the word was something not often seen outside moments when he was handed a devastatingly unpleasant surprise in court, and Phoenix couldn't help but feel a little offended. "...Perhaps not," the doctor amended. He looked at Edgeworth again. "I assume this is the other man who is in the same condition?" he asked.

"You assume correctly this time," Edgeworth answered, and the doctor turned to Phoenix again.

"Dr. Livers," he said. "D. Livers."

Phoenix nodded. "Phoenix Wright."

Dr. Livers looked back and forth between Phoenix and Edgeworth a few times, then finally said to Phoenix, "I have already examined Mr. Edgeworth once and explained the need for this procedure, but since I get the impression that you do not know what you are doing here or what to expect, allow me to explain." Phoenix nodded sheepishly. "Normally," the doctor explained, "expectant mothers have only one ultrasound, at around twenty weeks. They may have two if they do one earlier to check for Down's Syndrome and other disorders. Given the exceedingly unusual circumstances, however, I'm going to recommend that you both have ultrasounds once a month, not only to monitor the development of the baby, but to keep an eye on your internal organs as well, as they are likely to be stretched and displaced, which puts you at risk for all sorts of problems with them."

Edgeworth was nodding sullenly as the doctor spoke, and when he had finished speaking, Phoenix found himself doing the same.

"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asked.

"Millions of them," Phoenix answered honestly, "so maybe we should just go ahead with the ultrasounds and worry about them afterward?"

Dr. Livers looked at Edgeworth for confirmation, and took it as such when the prosecutor gave a noncommittal shrug. "The technician has been briefed on the unusual circumstances. I will show you to the ultrasound room, and then I will be seeing other patients while it is done. I'll take a look at both and meet with you afterwards," he promised.

Half an hour later, the technician was frowning a bit as she moved the device across Phoenix's abdomen.

"What's wrong?" the defense attorney asked.

"Well," the technician said, her frown growing deeper and her brow furrowing as she peered at the monitor. "I'm looking for it."

"Looking for it? Why don't you know where it is?" he inquired.

She looked a little flustered. "You don't have a uterus, Mr. Wright, so I have absolutely no idea where the blastocyst implanted. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Ah!" At long last, she found the right place and pointed with her other hand at the monitor. "Here you go. Right here," she pointed to a dark spot, "is the large intestine, and right here," she said, pointing to a spot somewhere under it, "is the double membrane with the embryo inside it." She pointed again. "See here? There's the head."

Phoenix furrowed his brow, studying the grainy image. "What's that moving thing?"

The technician smiled. "That's the baby's heart. It's beating."

Phoenix widened his eyes. "Really!? Can I listen to it?"

He heard Edgeworth sigh and was about to ask him why when the technician shook her head apologetically. "It's too faint right now. You won't be able to hear it until next month."

"Oh." The defense attorney was a little disappointed, to tell the truth. He looked back at the image, then squinted, peering at something in particular. "What the...?"

"What is it, Mr. Wright?" the technician asked, looking properly concerned as she had surely practiced doing many times before. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and looked at the monitor herself.

Phoenix pointed. "Is that a tail?"

To his surprise, the technician nodded.

"But what..?" He looked up at Edgeworth, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. What kind of freaky genetics did you put in me!?

As though he could hear the thought, Edgeworth rolled his eyes, and before Phoenix could ask the technician, the prosecutor explained, "All mammalian embryos have tails. It's part of the formation of the spine. It will go away long before birth."

The technician beamed at Edgeworth. As if he needed another fan. "That's right. It will be gone by the end of next month, in fact," she said.

Phoenix couldn't help himself. He reached up to touch the monitor, drawing his thumb across the little growing and shrinking thing that he now knew was the heart. He felt a swell of affection for the funny-looking little thing on the screen, and, he found out a few minutes later, equal affection for the equally funny-looking thing that showed up as the technician moved the device in her hand over Edgeworth's abdomen. A subtle change seemed to come over Edgeworth as he laid there, looking up at the screen, slowly soaking in the fact that he too carried a creature with a heartbeat.

The defense attorney looked earnestly at the other man until he looked back, and then said softly, "It's real."

Edgeworth looked at the monitor, then back at Phoenix. "I know."

Phoenix saw his chance then and moved to slip his hand into Edgeworth's, and to the apparent surprise of both men, the prosecutor didn't push the hand away. He simply held it as the two watched the steady beat on the screen, and as Phoenix watched Edgeworth's face, there was a peculiar sort of serenity that seemed to settle into his eyes. And in that instant, with Edgeworth's defenses set aside and his sickness out of mind, the first tendrils of... something... appeared. Phoenix squeezed the hand he held in his own, and Edgeworth let out a breath that sounded like he had been holding it for years.

The technician had the grace to give them some privacy.

Nine Months to Work It Out - Chapter 1

2008-01-25T00:57:01Z

Title: Nine Months to Work It Out
Pairing: Phoenix/Miles
Rating: Main story will be PG-13. There will be NC-17 bonus chapters for you horndogs.
Warnings: Slash, double mpreg
Information: my_little_edgey (an excellent writer in her own right) requested double mpreg. I delivered. Surprisingly non-cracky. Enjoy, if you don't mind pregnant gay lawyers. Text is exactly as it appeared in the comment thread.

At exactly five thirty in the morning, the phone on Phoenix Wright's nightstand rang. He groaned and rolled over, prepared to ignore it, but it persisted. Seven rings. Eight. Someone really, really wanted to talk to him. He cracked his eyes open. Nine. Ten. He looked at the clock, verifying that it was indeed before sunrise, and forced his sluggish arm over to grip the receiver. He really should have gotten an answering machine long ago. He picked up the handset.

" 'Lo?" he asked, still mostly asleep.

"Wright. I'm on my way to your apartment. Get dressed and unlock the door."

Phoenix groaned. "Edgew'rth?" he mumbled. "It's five th'rty in the morn'g."

"I couldn't care less, Wright. Get up," came the command. Edgeworth sounded cranky, which was no surprise, but there was something else in his tone that piqued Phoenix's sleep-addled interest. Then again, nothing could hold his interest very long when he was half-asleep, and in less than twenty seconds, he was asleep again.

He was broken out of this slumber by insistent knocking on his door. "Wright! Let me in!" came Edgeworth's voice from the other side of it, and Phoenix groaned again and rolled out of bed. He put his hand to his head. He had something resembling a migraine this morning, and becoming vertical seemed to only make it angry. He opened the door to find Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth there, dressed for court with a sour expression upon his face and a nondescript white bag in his hand.

"Edgeworth?" Phoenix asked, his brow furrowing as he ran a hand through his black hair, which was disheveled from sleep and not yet properly spiked. Edgeworth thrust the bag into Phoenix's hands, but the defense attorney was too tired and confused to bother looking in it. "Uh... do you want to come in?"

"I don't care to discuss this from outside your door," was the curt response, and Phoenix stepped back to let the other man in, then closed the door behind him with a soft click. His apartment was, predictably, littered with discarded clothes and empty take-out containers. There was a suspicious sticky pool on the coffee table, and Phoenix rushed to scrape off a place on the couch for Edgeworth to sit, if he so desired. The prosecutor took another step in and surveyed the room, a look of distaste coming over his face as though he wanted to take a gallon of bleach to the room.

"Er, I'm sorry," Phoenix mumbled. "I didn't know I was having company, so I didn't clean."

Edgeworth simply grunted in response. As Phoenix surveyed the man, whose nuances he had learned over the past several months, he determined that Edgey was, well, edgy. He looked cranky, and uncomfortable, and maybe even a little bit sick. The black-haired man frowned. "Can I, er, get you anything?" he asked.

The prosecutor shook his head, sending perfectly-styled gray hair swinging just a bit around his ears. "No."

Phoenix frowned and moved to sit down in a chair- and atop a small pile of clean clothes- across from Edgeworth. "So... what brings you here at five-thirty in the morning?" he asked. "I was in bed. Sleeping. I, uh, felt kind-of sick, so I was sleeping in."

Edgeworth snorted. "You've never seen five AM before unless you were approaching it from the other side," he said disdainfully, and Phoenix reached up to scratch his head, having the decency to look at least a little bit guilty as charged. As he was notoriously not fond of small talk, the prosecutor followed this comment with what he had come here to say. "It would seem that that genetically-modified tea Ema Skye so kindly gave to me had a side-effect beyond the one we already knew about."

Phoenix, who was still in his pajamas, felt heat rise to his cheeks at that. The tea in question had turned out to be an extremely powerful aphrodesiac, and it had led to a situation that, while not the first time he and Edgeworth had shared a bed, stood out rather crisply against the others. Presumably, it was Edgeworth's humiliation over it that had led him to refuse any invitations from Phoenix, however innocuous, for the past month. One day, Phoenix had even called Edgeworth's office to extend the metaphorical olive branch and had been told by his secretary, Hannah, that he was out sick. Miles Edgeworth, out sick. And now, Miles Edgeworth, sitting on Phoenix Wright's couch and looking like he had caught the defense attorney doing awkward things to Pess.

Edgeworth's arms were wrapped around himself, a defensive posture, as Phoenix recalled from his introductory psychology class at Ivy U. He was clutching his left arm tightly and looking away from Phoenix, which was a posture the pajama-clad man was used to seeing on Edgeworth by now, though not often in a private setting. "I've been ill for two weeks now. I went to the doctor three days ago because it was interfering with my productivity, and after ruling out everything else in the world, he determined that I am..." Three days, and he still couldn't bear to say the word. "Pregnant."

Phoenix Wright, to his credit, blinked slowly. He had never excelled at science, but there was one key thing about that statement that did not fit. And, as he had so often done in court, he put on a confident smile and shook his head. "Edgeworth, that's just not possible! You're a man, and men do not get pregnant."

The look Edgeworth shot him could have melted a rock. Luckily, Phoenix Wright was not a rock, as much as his occasional partner liked to insinuate things about his intelligence. He looked back to the side, avoiding Phoenix's gaze. "No, Wright, they don't. That's why I got a second opinion. And a third. And then called Ema Skye to find out just what she had done to that tea."

"And?" Phoenix asked.

"Nothing that should have caused this," Edgeworth answered, then finally looked in Phoenix's general direction. "In any case," he said, letting go of his arm to make a vague gesture in the direction of the defense attorney, "you should probably go pee on that stick and see just how much trouble we're in."

"Pee on a-?" Phoenix began, finally looking down into the bag and cutting himself off when he saw the box that proclaimed 'First Response'. "Oh." He looked back up at Edgeworth, whose jaw was set as he looked back at him in a way he meant to be placid. In his eyes, though, was something that gave Phoenix a great sense of dread. It was the same something that was there when the first rumblings of the earthquake had been felt that day at the detention center.

Miles Edgeworth was scared out of his mind, and that in itself was an ominous sign.

Phoenix nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of cloth rustling. The sound of liquid hitting liquid. The sound of water in the sink running. Then the door opened again, and Phoenix came back out, looking down at the device in his hand.

Edgeworth quirked an eyebrow coolly. "Well?"

Phoenix flopped down on the couch next to his courtroom rival. "Don't know. It still hasn't shown up." He shook the thing a bit.

Edgeworth snorted again. "It's not a Polaroid picture, Wright," he said. Phoenix had apparently played Edgeworth Roulette and gotten the one with the extra helping of snarky today. He groaned. Despite this, Edgeworth was leaning over, just a little, waiting for the little symbol to come up. The silence was long and painful, both men undoubtedly willing it, Minus, minus.

The symbol slowly darkened, and both men inhaled slowly.

Plus.

And Phoenix Wright, as any mature, educated, and successful man would do, looked at Miles Edgeworth with wide eyes and exclaimed, "You knocked me up!"

Edgeworth blinked slowly, daring at last to actually look at Phoenix's face. "As vulgar as that is, I could say the same to you," he observed.

"Why didn't you use a condom!?" Phoenix demanded. "Why didn't you pull out!? And how did my sperm get into my own... Oh," he fell silent, not bothering to finish that question, and looking downward. He remained silent as his mind tried, and failed, to wrap around it all. Finally, he asked in a hoarse whisper, "Miles, what are we going to do?"

Edgeworth shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Phoenix could see the message written across his face. No child should have me for a father. The defense attorney felt a swell of pity. Edgeworth was much more torn up than he would ever let anyone see. Seeing that look of utter aloneness written on the face of the man he cared so much for made him wish he could personally execute Manfred von Karma.

"There's always-" Phoenix began, but Edgeworth silenced him with a glare, full of fire and repressed loathing, though Phoenix knew it wasn't for him.

"No. I will not take a human life," he said firmly, and Phoenix knew not to argue.

"Then we should try to work things out," the defense attorney said after a long, thoughtful silence.

Edgeworth's facial expression broke for a split second in surprise, but the hard shell was back when he demanded, "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Phoenix hesitated. He wasn't convinced that he was more than a convenient lay to Miles, but the futures of two children now hung on this statement. "I mean, we should try to be together. To be a family. For their sake."

Edgeworth narrowed his eyes and he looked away, scorn radiating from the back of the shoulder he showed to Phoenix. If there was anyone the prosecutor trusted less than himself, it was everyone else in the world. "My father was a single father, and he did fine," he said stubbornly.

"I don't dispute that, but let's look at the whole picture here!" Phoenix persisted. "Being a single parent is tough. Diapers and feeding and soccer practice and prom dates and college tuition!"

Phoenix was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. And Edgeworth would not have been Edgeworth if he had not pointed this out. "Wright," he said, his tone commanding of attention. "We don't even know for sure that we're going to give birth."

That caught Phoenix off-guard. "Huh?"

"Pregnancy does not always end in birth, Wright," Edgeworth explained. "There are complications. Miscarriages. Not to mention unknown things that will happen because we don't have the necessary internal anatomy to nurture a child. Being pregnant is preposterous enough, but giving birth is an entirely different concept."

That gave Phoenix pause, and for a second, he looked genuinely horrified. "You mean we'll lose the...?" He trailed off, whether silenced by the unpleasantness of it or just unsure what to call the masses of cells currently coagulating inside himself and Edgeworth was unclear.

"Wright, were you just not paying attention in high school biology?" Miles sighed. Phoenix gave him a blank look, and Miles groaned. "Even barring any complications, there is a chance that both are already doomed. When a man and woman reproduce normally, there are two possible genders: female with an XX chromosome combination and male with an XY chromosome combination. There isn't room for YY. In fact, it is possible for an abnormal gamete, that is, an egg or sperm cell that does not have a sex chromosome, to couple with its opposite and still result in pregnancy. When the combination is XO, it results in a female with a disorder called Turner's Syndrome. When the combination is YO, the fetus is spontaneously aborted because a person cannot result from a combination that lacks an X chromosome." He turned his eyes downward, the expression not surprisingly not revealing his feelings about his final statement. "Therefore, there's a one-in-four chance for each of us that the fetus has a YY combination and will abort itself."

Phoenix suddenly grasped the idea of maternal instinct, because that idea terrified him. "What do we-?" he began to ask for the third time, and Edgeworth cut him off.

"We wait. Before we commit to anything, before we make plans, we wait. If either pregnancy is still viable at the end of the first trimester, which is the point at which most any pre-natal complication will have manifested itself and caused miscarriage, we will see how we should progress," Edgeworth stated. He had apparently thought about this a lot in the last three days, though, really, he probably hadn't thought about anything else.

Phoenix slowly nodded. "Alright," he said. "But I have one request."

"Hmm?" Edgeworth asked, looking down at his watch and making a note that it was time to be headed to the Prosecutor's Office.

"Don't shut me out," Phoenix requested, his voice soft as he looked earnestly into Edgeworth's tumultuous gray eyes. "I'm just as scared as you are."

Edgeworth pursed his lips as though he were about to say something, but then he seemed to decide against it as he got to his feet. "I need to go to work."

Phoenix nodded. "Alright. I'll bring you lunch." The prosecutor opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent when Phoenix shook his head insistently. "Please let me. I'll bring enough for four."

Seeming to make some sort of decision, though Phoenix was damned if he knew what it was, Edgeworth nodded. "Alright. Twelve o'clock. Don't be late."

Hi there!

2008-01-25T00:54:58Z

As it says in the userinfo, this account exists so that I can post my contributions to the epic Phoenix Wright kink meme without outing myself on my regular journal.

If you want something to call me, 'MJ' will work.