Author's Note: FYI, I was basing these oneshots (all written using themes from the 12 Fics community on LiveJournal) on a fanfiction idea I had in which Edgeworth is a defense attorney and Phoenix is already an ex-attorney hobo accused of murder (Edgeworth defends him in court, relationship development, etc). Ema Skye from the first game is his assistant (think Maya's role in the first three games and Trucy's role in the fourth installment). I'm not sure when/if I'll write the actual AU fanfiction, but here are some scenarios...
By the time Miles Edgeworth finished his work at his law office – Edgeworth and Co., where his father had gotten his start as a defense lawyer and Edgeworth later got his first job as an attorney at law – it was past eight and he had not stopped to rest (or eat) since noon when he allowed himself a lunch break. Of course, Ema had been no help at all; she spent most of the afternoon snacking on some food her older sister Lana picked up for her when she went out of the country.
'Wright had damn well have kept out of my fridge.' Edgeworth thought bitterly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he thought of the homeless ex-attorney currently renting out one of the rooms in his spacious, two-story house. Of course, Phoenix had his quirks – he was incredibly honest, albeit somewhat laid-back – but he had a sharp mind and a knack for helping Edgeworth from time to time.
At the moment, however, he had little to no tolerance for Phoenix's habit of raiding the fridge at the most inconvenient times.
The red convertible pulled up the driveway and Edgeworth flicked the switch that opened the garage door – the clattering gears would hopefully be a good warning alarm for Phoenix, if he was, in fact, eating the last of the leftover pasta that Edgeworth had been craving for the past two hours.
Or rifling through the deli drawer, he thought as his stomach growled in protest. One wrong step today and he knew without a doubt that Phoenix would be out on the street again tonight.
The inside of the house was unusually quiet – Edgeworth was growing accustomed to arriving home to find Phoenix half-asleep in front of the blaring television, watching old sitcom reruns or scanning the news channels.
"Wright?" he called uneasily, trying in vain to stave off his mounting feelings of apprehension. Just what was that suspicious hobo up to?
The kitchen was fully lit and smelled of subtle salt and soy; Edgeworth could feel his body giving out from hunger. He set his briefcase on the floor and entered the adjacent dining room, raising an eyebrow with amusement as he saw two bowls of instant cup ramen sitting on the table, still steaming.
"Ema told me you weren't coming back until later tonight, so I thought you might appreciate a hot meal." Phoenix announced. Edgeworth looked up and saw him standing on the opposite side of the table, hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray hoodie as he rocked back and forth casually on the balls of his feet.
"A hot meal? What are you, my housewife?" Edgeworth questioned.
"Nah, I'd have put more effort into the meal if I was your wife."
"So I see...instant noodles sounds like something Gumshoe would have cooked up."
"Well..." Phoenix smirked, taking his hands out of his pockets as he pulled back one of the wooden chairs and sat down, lounging comfortably as he picked up the silver fork beside the bowl and stirred the watery ramen. "I can cook, but you don't have much on hand."
"I haven't had time to go out to the store all week." Edgeworth replied as he seated himself, poking at the limp noodles with the point of his fork before stabbing a few. "It's been a busy week."
"Every week's a busy week." Phoenix pointed out through a mouthful of salty noodles. "You'd think with Ema's help around the office you'd actually get something done."
"Ema? Help? She only offers to do something if it involves forensic science or luminol fluid."
"Eh, I guess that's true."
Edgeworth took a tentative bite of the ramen, chewing thoughtfully as he watched Phoenix swirl his noodles with the fork before eating another mouthful.
If someone were looking through his dining room window at that second, they would be mistaken for a couple.
But did he honestly have a problem with that?
Phoenix looked up from his bowl and saw Edgeworth staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing, Wright. I was just thinking."
"About this delicious meal I worked so hard to prepare?"
"No, nothing that trivial."
Phoenix rolled his eyes, "I slaved over the stove for fifteen entire minutes; instant ramen isn't easy to make, you know. Especially two bowls at once!"
"I'm sure it's a trifling chore." Edgeworth agreed sarcastically. "All childish humor aside...thank you."
"You're welcome...dear." Phoenix replied, deciding to humor him.
"Call me by that name again and I'll kick you back out on the streets where you belong."
"Whatever you say, Edgey."
"You're asking for it."
Edgeworth sighed exasperatedly and shook his head, "Why do I bother?"
"Because you care." Phoenix replied slyly.
"It would be no problem for me to just open the door and send you out right now."
"I know, but if you really wanted me out, you would have kicked me out ages ago."
Edgeworth turned his attention back to the ramen in front of him; Phoenix was right, as usual.
"Just eat your noodles and stop trying to think." Phoenix said, jabbing his fork in Edgeworth's direction. "Since being an attorney is such hard work-"
"Oh, and being a rag-tag, homeless bum who sleeps on the couch like a dog is much harder?"
"Who would cook such excellent, luxurious meals for you? I can't see you with a wife, Edgeworth. That's why I hang around."