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Chapter Text

Phoenix has been only pretending to work for the last hour. If he's honest with himself, he has a hard time getting to sleep when Trucy's not home yet: he's fine when he knows she's not coming home for the night, sleeping over at a friend's or in Kurain Village with Maya and Pearls, but waiting up for her is a special kind of parental hell.

The sound of keys in the door makes him finally relax, and he gives up on the document he's reviewing to peer over the back of the couch as Trucy comes in.

"Hey, Truce. How did rehearsal go?"

An audience member at one of Trucy's shows had been the president of a West Covina community theatre group, and was so impressed that she'd asked Trucy to come and do special effects for her group's upcoming musical. Trucy hadn't been sure about it at first, but Phoenix had told her it might be a fun way to try using her magic skills for something else (which doesn't involve throwing knives at Segways, how long has she been throwing knives), and she should have a hobby she doesn't earn money from. (Plus, Miles had suggested to him that it might be a good way for her to make more friends her own age, since Phoenix occasionally despairs that she mostly hangs out with lawyers and detectives in their twenties.) She'd negotiated a materials budget and a carpool to and from rehearsals and production meetings, and has so far been having a great time, from the sounds of it.

"Really good! I've been tweaking my effects for the storm and the director loved it!" She flops down onto the couch next to him, setting her bag right on top of his notes. "We lost another actor, though."

"Oh, damn, another one?" A forgotten peril of unpaid theatre in LA: actors quitting once they get a paid gig. A couple of his college classmates in the Art Department had dropped out of school over it. "This seems pretty close to the show."

"Triton's scabbing for a Netflix show." She's formed opinions on entertainment industry unions lately, lamenting that she's too young to join the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees; he thinks it's because Apollo's been making noises about unionizing. "They're having a hard time replacing him: the other actors who had callbacks for Triton have also gotten booked since, and apparently it's always hard finding older male actors who can sing."

Suddenly, Trucy fixes him with a keen gaze.

"Daddy..."

"Yeah?" Her look intensifies, and the penny - or perhaps the sand dollar - drops. "Oh, no. Truce, I haven't done theatre in years."

"But you were so good," she says, and he suddenly regrets letting his parents show her a video of one of his college musicals.

"Over ten years ago, sure. And I don't look nearly old enough to have a sixteen-year-old daughter." His sixteen-year-old daughter raises an eyebrow, which, fair enough. Time for new evidence. "And it's only, what, six weeks till you open?"

"Triton's not that big a role: you can pick it up," she reasons. "You're always complaining about the songs in Uncle Miles' car getting stuck in your head. And if you forget any lines, you can bluff like you do in court! The other actors will save you, I've seen it happen."

"You know how cases can be--"

"Apollo or Athena can take more cases," she offers. "Besides, you need a hobby."

"I have hobbies," he bluffs, less sure of where he's going with this than he has been with some bluffs in court. "I go to your shows--"

"Supporting your daughter is not a hobby."

"I-- I hang out with Miles--"

"Pining is not a hobby."

"Pining?!"

"It's what you do," she chirps. Before he can object further on this point, she declares, "The prosecution has established that the defense has no hobbies, only relationships. Will the defense at least come talk to the production team?"

Oh, she is spending too much time in court if she's picking up that kind of language and using it only to make fun of him, but... "Okay, okay." A meeting can't hurt. No one would want to cast someone who hasn't been onstage in fifteen years and hasn't had any experience or training since then.

Miles thoroughly enjoys Trucy's Wonder Bar nights: dinner with Phoenix after work, Trucy's magic show, and once in a while, like tonight, dessert afterwards, because Trucy declares she wants a treat before they go home and what the magician wants, the magician gets. Really, the only downside is the end of the night, when he drives the Wrights home and has to say goodbye. Sometimes Phoenix invites him up for tea, but never on dessert nights because it's already late by the time they get home.

No, tonight is one of those nights where he and Phoenix share a smile over the console which gets interrupted by Trucy squeezing between their seats to hug Miles goodnight and goodbye (always awkward because he doesn't unbuckle his seatbelt if he's not getting out with them).

"Night, Uncle Miles! Thanks again for coming to the show and the ride home."

"Of course," he says, and as Trucy retreats to the backseat to leave the car, he turns back to Phoenix. "I forgot to mention over dinner: an old colleague of mine from Berlin - you didn't meet her, she was on parental leave when you visited- she's in town for the weekend and giving a talk on the effects of applying UNDRIP to criminal law in Borginia on Sunday afternoon. Would you like to come with me? She's expressed interest in meeting you."

"Oh, man, that sounds great," Phoenix says, interest brightening his mismatched eyes and straightening his spine in his seat. "I wish I could, but we've got rehearsal Sunday afternoon."

Miles raises an eyebrow. "'We'?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you?"

"Daddy's doing The Little Mermaid with me!" Trucy announces from the trunk, where she's retrieving her suitcase of props. She punctuates it by closing the door.

Miles considers. "Are they having problems getting the rights?" He immediately reconsiders, because this surely wouldn't require his presence at rehearsal.

"No, I'm, ah, performing," he says, looking sheepish. He turns to put the window down for Trucy to rejoin the conversation from outside the car, because she's come around and tapped on his window. "One of the actors quit, and they were having trouble filling the role, so I said I'd read for them, and next thing I knew--"

"He's playing King Triton! Ariel's dad," Trucy adds, a helpful explanation because though she had made him and Phoenix watch the live action movie with her when she was first considering signing onto the show, he doesn't remember that name. "This Sunday's his first rehearsal with the rest of the cast."

Ah. Perhaps he should have known that Phoenix's inability to turn down someone in need would extend to community theatre groups. Still: "I wasn't aware you could act." Well, he'd certainly fooled Kristoph for seven years-- "Onstage."

"I was in the Art Department before I switched to law, " Phoenix reminds him. "I went in wanting to do Shakespeare, but the professors found out I can sing and started roping me into the musicals."

"Last time we went to Grandpa and Baachan's house, they showed us a video of one of his shows! He played Doody in Grease."

"I didn't play guitar," Phoenix hurries to clarify, though Miles has no idea what he's talking about.

"He was better than the guy who played Danny," Trucy adds. "Grandpa thinks Daddy didn't get the lead because he's hapa and the other guy was white."

"Grandpa didn't see my crappy audition."

It's like they're talking about a different world, a different life. Miles tries for a moment to picture a young Phoenix, before Dahlia had draped a bottle of poison around his neck, onstage, and fails. If only he'd seen his shows back then, instead of being the Demon Prosecutor.

... although speaking of prosecution. "I imagine the unpredictability of investigations might make attending rehearsal difficult," he muses. "How will you handle it?"

"Delegation," Phoenix replies. "The kids are gonna hear the phrase 'development opportunity' a lot over the next couple of months. I wouldn't have been able to do this when it was just me and Maya."

Trucy covers her mouth but does not quite manage to cover an enormous yawn.

"Shit, sorry," says Phoenix, finally unbuckling his seatbelt. "Wish we could talk longer, but this one needs to disappear and reappear in bed. Call me when you get home?"

This night has already been longer than usual from this conversation and now Phoenix wants to talk more later. Miles' heart lifts even though he's about to say goodbye. "Will do."

"Great," says Phoenix. "Maybe we could find another time to meet your old colleague, too; I'd love to meet her. I can't believe you told her about me."

"Daddy," Trucy interrupts.

He has the sudden urge to thank her, because he was definitely about to say something sentimental - it must be the time, or the sugar, or the extra time with them, compounding his years of love for Phoenix. "I apologize, Trucy - I'll let you get to bed. Good night."

Phoenix gives him a soft smile as he opens the door. "Talk to you later."

Acting comes back to Phoenix easier than he thought it would. It helps that Triton, as a character, is a lot closer to himself than several characters his professors threw at him: Triton's a single dad scared for his willful teenage daughter. Phoenix has been there, all too recently. (He only once says "Trucy" instead of "Ariel" and everyone is very nice about it, except for Trucy, who's so embarrassed she disappears down a trap door he hadn't realized was there.) (Ariel calls Triton 'Daddy' like Trucy! Ariel's in danger like Trucy was! It's not his fault.) (He considers himself lucky that he didn't open that scene yelling "Aura" instead of "Ursula".) When Triton is getting his king on, Phoenix amuses himself by playing him in an imitation of Miles from their first few trials together, all pride and arrogance that he will be listened to and found correct, until he gets told to play it "warmer, because you're coming off a little smug".

(It only takes one rehearsal where he accidentally leaves his magatama in his pocket, enters his first scene, and sees locks everywhere for him to make sure his magatama goes into his briefcase on the way to rehearsal and, once there, his briefcase goes as far from the rehearsal space as he can put it. It's theatre: everyone's hiding things, but for fun, presumably (hopefully!) not to cover up a murder. The skeletons in people's closets, or perhaps more likely, the brewing showmances being kept under wraps are none of his business here. He wonders, as he texts Apollo to leave the bracelet at home and Athena to turn off Widget when they come to see the show, how the hell Trucy's handling this.)

Coming into a cast who have already been working together for a few months is weird, but Trucy, darling girl, draws him in. She's made friends with some of the younger cast members - there are so many teenagers in this cast that his and Miles' hope that it would help her make friends her own age came true - and the older cast members take him under their wings too. In a nice change from the legal world, no one's heard of him beyond "Trucy's dad"; apparently they don't get a lot of attorneys in theatre. It's a more diverse mix than his classes at Ivy U had been, where he'd been one of about three people of color in any given cast: Ariel's Khura'inese, Eric is Black, Ursula's Chicana, and the actors playing Triton's other daughters are as mixed as in the live action movie Trucy had made him and Edgeworth watch with her. His college directors wouldn't have done it.

Not only is the production team more inclusive than his college directors, but they're also a lot nicer, probably helped by the facts that they're not grading the cast and he's come in six weeks before opening. When they have rehearsal on Trucy's birthday, the production manager makes Trucy a birthday cake, and while Trucy's of course thrilled, Phoenix feels a little overwhelmed by their kindness, in a good way, because cakes aren't his strong point in the kitchen and between work and rehearsal, ordering her a cake, much less picking it up, had slipped his mind. The rehearsal pianist records him his songs, since they're slightly different from the Broadway cast recording. It's not only actors offering to help run lines with him when he's not onstage. They say he's a huge help coming on at such short notice, but he feels like he's never been helped so much in a show.

The lines and the songs don't come to him as quickly as they did in college, but luckily Apollo and Athena are pretty self sufficient with their current caseloads, and don't blink at him reading his script in the office, only complaining when he accidentally sings along with his songs played over headphones. He just won't bill these hours.

Even when he brings law into it. He takes photos of a few pages of the script and sends them to Miles.

"p sure ariel's a minor," he texts. The musical, unlike the movies, doesn't actually say Ariel's exact age, but he's definitely playing Triton like Ariel is around Trucy's age. "she can't delegate her power. this contract's been void since she dotted the i in her name with a heart"

It's a while before Miles replies, "Objection! Japanifornia's age of majority would apply only if they are within 12 nautical miles of Japanifornia. Where is this undersea lair?"

"gyaaah," he replies. "can't believe you're defending the exploitation of a teenager"

"Obviously the exploitation of a teenager is morally reprehensible but in this case it may not be illegal."

Texting the phrase "morally reprehensible". He's such a nerd. Unfortunately, Phoenix is very much into that. With a grin, he starts typing a reply--

Only to be interrupted by Athena clearing her throat. He glances up at her. "How are things at the prosecutors' office, Mr. Wright?"

Okay, weird opening. "Why do you ask?"

"A second ago, that's always the look on your face when you're talking to the Chief Prosecutor."

"Besotted," explains Widget, and Athena flushes and slams a hand over him.

He's going to ignore that one, because the kids don't need it confirmed. "We weren't talking about work, so I assume everything's fine," he says. "Did you need something?"

Athena draws him into a tricky aspect of her case, and he sets his script and phone aside. Billable hours start now.

There is a kerfuffle in the prosecutors' office of people looking for cash and hoping that "the guy takes Venmo". There can be only one explanation. Miles texts Phoenix, "The tamale salesman is here."

"pendito skipped our place!" Phoenix replies. "you know what i like. be there soon"

Miles wades through his staff to order three tamales, one mild with plenty of sour cream and two medium (a combination which he knows is getting him judged until he pays in cash and tips overly generously), and takes them down the street to the nearest bike rack. Athena and Apollo beat their boss here to gratefully accept tamales from Gavin and Ema, and just as Miles texts Trucy that he's bought her a tamale too, Phoenix mounts the curb and almost doesn't stop before trying to lock his bike to the rack.

"They left after me," he says, looking mournfully towards their employees. "How did they get here before me?"

"It's called a car, Wright," says Miles. Athena had driven Apollo here. He passes the two medium tamales over. "Here - one for Trucy as well."

One of the tamales goes into Phoenix's suit jacket pocket (Miles tries and fails not to wince) before he opens his own and inhales. "Mm. That's the stuff." As he takes a bite, his gaze lands on Miles' tamale, and he attempts to ask, "Extra sour cream on yours?"

It is only because Phoenix and Larry had talking with their mouth full competitions in fourth grade that Miles understands him, but he would rather not admit to this; instead he attempts to retain at least some dignity with, "Swallow."

Phoenix does so, and repeats himself more understandably to the general public, this time adding, "You're so white, Edgeworth," with a look of irrepressible fondness.

"That may be so," he says. "And yet the tamale man came to my office and not yours."

"A cruel indignity of the universe," Phoenix says with a deep sigh.

Miles squints at him. "Are you getting more dramatic now that you're back in theatre?"

"No, no, this is my normal level of drama!" Phoenix protests. "You just don't remember because we haven't been able to hang out as much."

"True," he concedes, before giving him a smile. "It's good to see you again, Phoenix."

"Same. I miss our pre-Wonder Bar dinners," says Phoenix, and Miles marvels that he can so easily say something he feels too but would never have admitted. "That's the evening I catch up on work the kids left me."

"I'm surprised Trucy's still performing."

"So am I. She's cutting down her performance schedule as we get closer to the show just to save some energy, but she's keeping up with things at the moment - she does her homework at rehearsal in between her scenes. Get this: one of my mermaid daughters is a high school math teacher in real life. I'm off the hook for helping her with it."

"That explains the lack of phone calls about math lately," he says, because Phoenix tends to try and outsource helping with math homework to him, and sometimes Trucy simply cuts out the middle man. "How are rehearsals going for you?"

Phoenix lights up as he starts talking about getting back into acting. Though there are elements of his inflection and expressions that are familiar, the way he talks about the talented young actors he's working with not unlike the way he talks about Apollo and Athena's particularly skillful wins in court, there's still something new and lovely about it - about seeing a new side of him, or at least a side he had no idea existed.

"I missed it," Phoenix eventually confesses, simultaneously heartfelt and seemingly surprised to be having this realization, let alone be saying it aloud. "I missed theatre. I just didn't know it until I was back."

"Switching from art to law must have been quite a change," Miles muses. "Any regrets?"

"Not for a second," Phoenix says immediately, but easy and honest. "I wouldn't have Trucy, wouldn't have found you again."

For a second, Miles forgets how to breathe, stunned that Phoenix counts him right alongside his own daughter as a good thing in his life that happened because he changed his major.

Phoenix's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Also, wouldn't have had these tamales. The tamale guy wants to skip my perfectly legitimate law office and talent agency, he definitely wouldn't have come to wherever I was being a starving artist, or wherever my starving artist friends were."

"I suspect he favors my office over yours only because I have more staff," Miles says with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, well, tamale guy can cook on and I will follow him to the last gasp with truth and loyalty." Phoenix balls up the tamale wrapper and throws it into a nearby trashcan. "You sure I can't pay you back for these?"

It's an old argument which he knows Phoenix knows he won't win: Miles never lets him pay for tamales, though Phoenix does insist on paying for other meals. He shakes his head for the motion of it.

"Okay, fine, but I'm getting your lunch next time," says Phoenix, and Miles nods his assent. "How've you been, anyway? Thanks for letting me ramble."

He would gladly listen to him ramble more, but he obliges with a few tales from the dog park, the office, and his latest call with Franziska before Phoenix is called back to work (literally, by Apollo asking him to come to the Detention Center).

"Thanks again for lunch," Phoenix says, unlocking his bike.

"It was fun," he dares to admit.

Phoenix flashes a smile at him and heads off. He watches him go for a minute, telling himself he's making sure Phoenix doesn't get hit by another car, then returns to the office.

Logically, Phoenix understands that pack in and dress rehearsals seem to have crept up on him so quickly because he was cast six weeks before opening. Emotionally, he's still surprised by it. Surely it was only yesterday a perfunctory costume mistress was taking his measurements, and in that time she hasn't made him a sparkly blue... skirt?

"Tail," she says, as he turns it around trying to figure out how it works. "You're a merman and all."

"Oh, of course," he says. It's definitely a skirt, but that's okay. "Looks like something my grandfather made me wear to cultural events when I was a kid when my mom didn't have time to help me with my kimono."

She looks up at him in surprise, and, figuring she can infer that his grandfather was Kānaka Maoli, he changes the subject. "Which side's the front?"

"The side with the split," she says, recovering. "Look, the old Triton and a couple of guys in the ensemble made such a fuss about the sketches - 'not manly enough' or whatever bullshit."

With only five weeks of knowing the cast, he thinks he can guess which ensemble members she's talking about. He begins taking his pants off. "This is plenty manly. What were they expecting, pants? With our lack of legs?"

"Exactly."

On goes the skirt-tail. Phoenix looks down as she pins up the too long hem. "Is there a shirt to go with this?"

"No."

"Ah, bare chest for extra manliness, I see." It's still more clothes than when he used to do life modelling in college, and at least his apparently main costume piece is his favorite color.

"That's the spirit!"

He's assigned a dressing room with the more human male leads: the actors playing Eric, Grimsby, and Scuttle, who isn't human but whose costume takes up less room than Sebastian's and the eels'. Luxury of luxury, he has a mirror to himself and doesn't have to take turns like he did in college. Even more luxurious, there's a fascinating face and body paint design for him that he doesn't have to do himself. Less luxurious: feeling like he's going to suffocate from the setting spray afterwards, all over him from the chest up because he also has to gel his hair as wavy as his spikes will go and spray the tips of his hair blue to match his tail.

Trucy doesn't get a dressing room, but she has a workstation in the loading dock that's understandably bigger than his mirror space. Every time he walks past and sees her working intensely on something he understands even less than her usual magic tricks, he's filled with such love and pride for her he expects to burst with it.

The dress rehearsal period is oddly long compared to what he usually got in college, and while he doesn't have a lot to do with all the moving set pieces, dance numbers, and special effects that necessitated it, he's grateful for it. It's nice to have a week and a half in the theatre before opening, getting used to the space, the lights, the microphone (there's something Ivy U's theatre department never seemed to have budget for), the costume (projecting power in a skirt instead of a suit feels new, but the addition of a crown, amulet, and shoulder armor helps, and he thinks back to his grandparents on his mom's side). Somehow, having all the technical elements in play helps him feel more secure in his scenes and songs than he usually would after only four weeks of rehearsal and counting. By the last few dress rehearsals, he feels confident enough to not spend every moment offstage going over his lines: instead he starts watching from side stage, marvelling at the sheer talent throughout the cast, the stamina of the ensemble and the fun choreography in the big musical numbers, and of course his best girl's magic being put to a new use.

When the day they open rolls around, it almost doesn't feel like it: it feels more like yet another dress rehearsal night, up until Trucy, doing homework at Apollo's desk after school, says off-hand, "Huh, Polly's late back from trial," at the same time as he gets a text from Miles apologizing because the trial got extended, Apollo's found a complication in the case that warrants Chief Prosecutor paperwork and oversight, and Apollo needs to investigate tonight.

"Polly and Miles aren't gonna make it to the show, baby," he says, setting down his phone. "Trial got extended and Miles needs to look after something on the prosecutors' end."

Disappointment flashes across her face so quickly he's pretty sure he only sees it because he's looking for it, and has been practising looking for it for years.

"Well, at least Baachan and Grandpa are still coming tonight, right?"

"Yeah, they flew down at lunch time. They're really excited."

His parents and Larry are the only ones who have seen him perform before; everyone else has no point of comparison. The intervening years have probably done nothing for his skills except maybe (hopefully) smoothening out his singing voice as his musical directors used to say age tends to, so he hopes their expectations aren't too high, or at least that his parents will be too distracted by their precious granddaughter's magic tricks to compare their son to his college days.

"Great," she says, returning to her homework. "It's been a while since they've come to one of my shows."

There's something in her voice that makes him look at her sideways. Trucy hasn't had stage fright in so many years that he'd forgotten theatre being a new performance form to her might bring it back - that she might, for once, be nervous too. However, she declines to comment further, back to her normal chipper self by the time their car pool picks them up, all smiles during the ride to West Covina.

As he signs them in at the theatre, the stage manager gives Phoenix a knowing smirk. "You two have a fan."

"Huh?" asks Trucy, at the same time as Phoenix breathes, "Miles," because while his mom is definitely the flowers on opening night type, she'll bring them in person; sending them ahead feels like more of a Miles thing. He barely needs to look up from the sign in sheet to see Trucy run towards her workstation, where a frankly too large bouquet sits on her desk.

"It's from Uncle Miles," she confirms after reading the card. "This is so nice of him when he couldn't make it! Oh, Daddy, it's so dazzle-frazzle."

"We put yours in your dressing room," says the stage manager.

Phoenix definitely does not run to his dressing room, where most of his mirror's taken up by a bouquet the same size as Trucy's but with different flowers. He assumes this was the flower shop's doing, since Miles thinks all flowers are the same. The handwriting in the card is a flower shop employee's, not Miles', but it's his incorrigibly stiff yet heartfelt words: Dear Phoenix, Congratulations on your opening night. I'm sorry I couldn't be there on opening night to witness your return to the stage after all these years. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully. Regards, Miles

"Your partner?" asks his next mirror neighbor, who's playing Grimsby.

"Yeah," Phoenix says, before the implications of that word catch up to him. "In court, I mean. My best friend - he sent one to Truce too."

"Sure," says the young man playing Prince Eric, and the knowing smirk on his face makes Phoenix check his own smile in his mirror, which, okay, looks like he's about to swoon in bliss. Over a card signed "regards". Unfortunately, he's been in this too many years to be embarrassed now - probably about as long as this kid's been alive - and Trucy's right, it does make him feel dazzle-frazzle.

"thanks for the flowers," he texts Miles, not expecting a reply tonight, or at least not until later. "they're beautiful. make that paperwork fear you"

As he starts getting ready for the show, he can't stop looking at the bouquet and nor can he stop smiling. The rest of the cast and crew mistakes it for opening night excitement and he does nothing to dispel this impression even as nervous energy starts to build beneath his pleasure at the flowers. Once they've done vocal and physical warmups and his costume, mic, hair, and makeup are in place, he heads outside for some air that isn't suffocated in setting spray and hairspray. He's content to just breathe and focus, until he hears the last person in this show who needs a vocal warmup.

"I'm Trucy Wright, and I'm fine!"

He turns the corner of the theatre to find her repeating it, her fists clenched in the black gloves she wears for the show.

"Baby, did I just hear you using Polly's self mantra?"

Trucy jumps and turns to him, plastering a smile on her face. "Hi, Daddy! It was ironic."

He raises an eyebrow and waits it out. She may have had more recent and consistent performance experience than he has, but he's more patient, and besides, theatre is his turf. Eventually, she deflates.

"I'm nervous," she confesses. "If I screw up my own magic show, I can redirect the audience, easy, and the only person it affects is me. But if I screw up here, it affects more people, and my friends..."

Oh, Trucy. Phoenix pulls her in for a hug, trusting all the setting spray on his chest to hold. "You've done these effects a million times. You'll be great - you add so much to the show. The show will go on. And if your friends give you any crap about magic mistakes, you can just remind them of all their screwed up lines."

She lets out a giggle at that. "'Oh, shit, I forgot my line' really did spice up 'Fathoms Below', though."

"A little too much for a family show." He lets her go only to lift her hat and ruffle her hair. "Truce, I'm really excited to wreck Ariel's grotto with you."

"It's weird that that's your favorite effect you cue and not, like, turning her into a human," she says, scrutinizing him. "Should I be worried about my props?"

With a laugh, he offers her his arm to head back inside. "No, never."

His skirt doesn't have pockets so he hadn't brought his phone outside with him. When he gets back to his dressing room, Miles has texted him, "You're most welcome. :)" Miles uses smileys so rarely that it gets him smiling irrepressibly all over again.

All too soon the calls start coming in for beginners. He sneaks a peek at the audience from the wings: the house isn't full, but it's still packed; lots of families, though he can't find his parents. It does nothing to dull his excitement.

The overture comes on and the show goes by in a blur. He almost goes onstage in his slides instead of barefoot, kicking them off in the wings. His mic picks up extra noise in one of his shorter scenes. He comes on for the 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' reprise yelling "Ariel" instead of "Ursula" but manages to save it by immediately yelling "Ursula" right after. All the same, the audience is responsive (it is weird being able to see their faces in the light from the LED screen that serves as their backdrop, but it does help him find his parents in the third row center), he gets laughs when assigning Sebastian to look after Ariel, the harmonies in the 'If Only' quartet just click tonight, and he's smiling so wide in the finale without having to do it on purpose. He missed this: being someone else for a while, telling a story, finding and sharing emotional truths through his body and voice, trusting the cast and crew to do what they need to do, that instant audience feedback. This was why he majored in art all those years ago. Sure, he gets some of this in court - the storytelling, the feedback (albeit sometimes in the form of whips, coffee, and hawks; what is with prosecutors), and, when he's working with Miles, the trust - but here the stakes are no higher than touching people's hearts. He loves acting.

As soon as he gets offstage after bows, Trucy throws her arms around him. "That was sooooo fun!"

He loves acting and he gets to share this with his daughter. So much better than college. He hugs her back. "Yeah, Truce, it was. You were perfect."

"And you were brilliant," she says. He notes she doesn't use 'perfect' as well, probably owing to the mic problems and line mishap, which is fair enough.

"Let me get dressed, and then let's go out to the foyer and meet Baachan and Grandpa. Mom always brought flowers to my college shows."

"Ooh, more flowers!" she squeals. "I'll go get out of my stage blacks."

Once they're themselves again (swapping out Triton's amulet for his locket is always a surefire way for him to leave Triton behind), Phoenix takes Trucy to the foyer, where his parents spot them and hurry over before he sees them. As predicted, his mother has flowers for them both, things he recognizes from the garden she started when he moved out but doesn't know the name of. Between those and the glowing compliments on her work, for a while all Trucy says is "thank you".

Then it's his turn. Though they enjoyed his performance, their comments on him are not quite as glowing as those for Trucy; he chalks this up to their nostalgia for the original movie (which they had apparently rewatched before the show in preparation), his only having had six weeks rehearsal, and their general enthusiasm for all things Trucy (his parents really enjoy being grandparents).

Besides, his mom has something else to be enthusiastic about besides his performance: "You used your middle name in the program! You never used to in college."

In college, he'd been too aware of his directors' tendencies to cast only the white kids as leads to want to advertise that he's multiracial by using his blatantly Japanese middle name.

"I'm making up for college," he says, and from the way Trucy looks at him, he knows she knows it's a lie; luckily his parents aren't nearly as perceptive. "You think Tūtū would have liked my tail?"

Eventually his parents claim tiredness from the flight down from San Fransokyo, and say their goodbyes until the weekend, when his dad has booked a family brunch at Downtown Disney before the Sunday show. (Phoenix thinks sometimes of introducing Thalassa to his parents once she finally tells Trucy who she is to her, of showing Thalassa how much of a family their daughter has, but this feels far off.) He takes a quick look around to see if anyone else they know came to the show tonight and just didn't tell him, but, finding no one, makes to leave too, only for Trucy to stop him with a tug on his elbow.

"Daddy, is that Klavier?"

The man Trucy's indicating is wearing a purple hoodie with the hood up and sunglasses, indoors. Unfortunately, he's also wearing a Gavinners belt buckle, which gives him away as Klavier trying to keep anonymous but instead just looking like an asshole. Rather than give him away by calling his name, Phoenix gives him a nod, and to his relief Klavier comes over.

"Wearing sunglasses inside makes you look like an asshole," he informs him. It makes everyone look like an asshole; this is not about what Klavier wore in court when he was seventeen.

"My apologies, Herr Wright," Klavier says. "But tonight is, after all, about Fräulein, yourself, and the team who brought this wonderful show to life, not me, so I didn't want to distract. Here--"

And Klavier thoroughly distracts him by pulling out two bunches of petite red roses from behind his back, offering one bouquet to Trucy and the other to him. Trucy squeals and takes her roses, quickly finding a little tag in the shape of the Gavinners' logo. Phoenix takes his own with a look of bemusement.

"Are you confessing your love for my teenage daughter and me, Klavier?"

Trucy immediately turns the same color as her roses as Klavier coughs.

"Nein! Nein, of course not. Merely my love for her special effects. Fräulein, if you're ever interested in extending your career further, I would love to have you in one of my shows."

Good. Maybe he somehow just didn't know what red roses mean, the color probably seeming generic to him from what his fans must constantly throw at him. Phoenix gives Klavier a small nod as he compliments Trucy on her effects and how she'd tied them to different characters and feelings in the show.

"And you, Herr Wright," Klavier says eventually. "Where have you been hiding that singing voice?"

"My shower is my biggest fan," Phoenix says, and after Trucy frowns at him, adds, "After Trucy, who had to put up with me rehearsing around the apartment."

"You surprised me," Klavier says. "You were a bit sharp in the ending song - unusual, most amateur singers missing their notes sing flat rather than sharp - but don't worry, people were probably too busy watching the wedding to notice. Apart from that, you were better than I expected!"

Should he feel insulted? "Thank you," he says regardless. He'll have to check with the musical director later whether he was in fact sharp.

"My favorite song of yours was the sad song with your daughter, the crab, and the prince near the end--"

"Wait," he says. While talking to Trucy, Klavier had referred to 'your father' and 'the sea witch'. "Have you been failing to call any character their actual name?"

Klavier waves a hand. "Ach, I didn't finish reading the program. Don't worry, Herr Boss has mentioned many times that you played King Triton."

"Have you... never seen The Little Mermaid before?" Trucy asks.

"Nein. It was like when the Hamilton tour came here: I didn't want to set my expectations by watching or listening to it beforehand."

Trucy's mouth is wide open. Phoenix puts one finger beneath her chin and thankfully this seems to be enough of a prompt for her to close it.

"You are the last person I know who I would have expected to not have seen a classic Disney movie before, oh my god," he says. If anyone, he expects Apollo hasn't seen it.

"Achtung! I will go home and watch it immediately," Klavier resolves. "Though I'm sure it cannot compare to what I just witnessed here. Nothing like a live show instead of a studio recording."

He laughs. "Good night, Klavier. Thanks for the roses. My mirror's getting a little full, so--"

"Ach, small dressing rooms? I've had my share."

"Nah," says Trucy. "Mr. Edgeworth just beat you to it."

Klavier looks between them, a smile growing on his face which Phoenix isn't sure he likes. "Ah, of course. My apologies, I'll take them with me, then--"

"No, I'll still take them," Phoenix says, holding the roses protectively to his chest. "In case you forgot, I have seven mermaid daughters who think I don't love them equally."

With a laugh, Klavier bids them good night, waves off Trucy's nth thank you for her roses, and leaves. This time neither Phoenix nor Trucy find anyone they know in the foyer, so they head backstage. While Trucy goes to say goodbye to her friends in the cast, he makes his way to the dressing room assigned to the actors playing Ariel and the Mersisters, knocks on the door with, "It's your dad," and enters when a voice inside tells him to come in.

"Hello, my darling kids," he says; luckily all seven of them are still here. "I've been overloaded with flowers, so I'm giving these to you. Two roses each. From Klavier Gavin."

The overlapped exclamations and reactions as he hands the closest actor the bouquet are not unlike those the Mersisters give him onstage, but he catches the main thread: "You know Klavier Gavin?!"

"Yeah, he's friends with Trucy," he settles for. "He loved the show."

"Oh Holy Mother, Klavier Gavin saw me perform and loved it," says the young lady playing Ariel, sinking to the floor once her roses are safely in hand. "I need this on my resumé now."

Ah, fangirls. He will never understand them, and counts himself lucky that Trucy doesn't get like this. "I mean, if you're putting it on your resumé, I think he called it a 'wonderful show'."

"How did we not notice Klavier Gavin here?!"

"He was trying very hard to be anonymous to make sure the focus would be on us, not him."

"That's so sweet--"

"Klavier Gavin was here!!"

"Have fun," he says, watching two of the Mersisters, unnoticed by the others, discover and get into a fight over the Gavinners' logo tag. "I'm going to get back to my legal darling girl now. Great show, ladies and theydies."

A chorus of thank yous rings out as he leaves their dressing room, and he finds himself grinning as he drops off his flowers from his mom in his dressing room, grabs his bag, and heads home. He and Trucy go through the motions of going to bed - it is, after all, a Thursday night - but he can hear her tossing and turning long after she's said good night and it's not like he's faring any better, so he eventually gives up and gets her out of bed for a hot chocolate and an episode of Pink Princess to try and wind them both down. The last time he was this keyed up hours after a show was in college, a memory spoiled because part of his excitement was that Dollie - Iris had come to the show, so were it not for the fact that he has work and Trucy has school tomorrow, he'd quite enjoy this. As it is, the hot chocolate and Pink Princess work for her, making him feel like less of a failure of a parent for getting her out of bed, and he spends another hour or so staring at the ceiling before falling into weird dreams about Miles and flower fields and Mia shows up at one point, it's really unclear.

In the morning, the director sends around a review which came in overnight and he and Trucy read it over breakfast with growing pleasure. When he finishes, he yanks her into a hug.

"I am so proud of you!"

"Daddy, I wasn't done," she grumbles into his chest, trying to raise her phone for the last few paragraphs.

With a laugh, he drops a kiss on top of her head and picks up his own phone again to link the review to his parents and then to Miles. "Oh, baby, I knew you'd be incredible. Remind me to print two copies of this when I get to the office."

"Two copies?"

"Yeah, one for the office and one for the fridge."

Trucy giggles and looks up, finally finished reading. "Better make it three: Baachan and Grandpa probably haven't gotten around to buying new printer ink, and they're gonna be proud of you as well."

"Please, Truce: you got a whole paragraph singing your praises and another namedrop in the final line, and I got one sentence that typoed my middle name and said I looked too young to be a dad."

Ariel's father Triton was played by newcomer Phoenix Ryuchi Wright, who despite looking at least a decade too young to be the father of seven teenaged to young adult daughters, played a father's anxiety and a brother betrayed with a strong voice and surprising conviction.

"So embarrassing that they messed up your name, we live in Japanifornia," she grumbles on his behalf.

"They probably just don't have macrons installed," he says, having decided to be generous on this in light of all the kudos for Trucy. "Yours was a really good whole paragraph, though. Let's not lose sight of that."

This production made the unusual move of having teen magician Trucy Wright provide special effects. The gamble paid off, with Miss Wright's practical effects adding a certain Disneyland magic the digital projections would not have managed alone. This was particularly effective for Ariel's transformations from mermaid to human and back again, here made into spectacles rather than the usual quick changes off stage or awkwardly hidden onstage. Miss Wright even managed to visually differentiate the spells of Ursula and Triton while never letting one forget that they are, in this script, related.

"I'm already deciding what quotes to pull for my next press kit," she confesses.

"That's my girl."

He hurries her off to school - reading the review lost them some time in their morning routine - and makes his way to the office, where Apollo and Athena are getting ready to go to court. The fact that their case came back to Miles' desk piqued his interest, so he goes with them, and as he's finding a seat in the gallery, his phone lights up.

"Congratulations to you, Trucy, and the cast and crew," Miles texts him. "Ironic that they said you looked too young to be a father when your teenage daughter's in the crew."

"miles at least three people in this cast assumed i knocked up trucy's mom in high school," he replies. And those three people are only those who have either mentioned it to his face or got thrown under the bus by someone else; he has no doubt there were more. "it's fine for them to say i look young. esp bc you'll never guess how old my oldest mer daughter is"

"Late 20s?"

"32!!!!!!!! she's pretty much OUR AGE." It has not stopped horrifying him. He feels like he's playing Gertrude, and he didn't know that could even happen to male actors. "you're never going to guess which one she is either"

"Very well, I accept your challenge, and look forward to watching."

"what show are you rebooking for?"

"Sunday." An afternoon show, Phoenix recalls. "I thought it best to avoid workdays entirely, and Kay is available then too."

"great! everyone says the weekends will be full of kids so have fun with that," he says. Come to think of it, the only kids he's ever seen Miles talking to besides on the witness stand are Pearls and Trucy, and he's always been good with them; he can't picture him surrounded by smaller children who, no offense to their parents, aren't as smart as Pearls and Trucy when they were little. This may be either terrible or hilarious. "we're doing this cute thing where ariel, eric, and ursula go out in costume after the show for pics and stage manager said more of us leads will go out for the matinees"

"If you're still in costume, we'll have to get a photo with the girls." Phoenix smiles at the thought, but Miles isn't done typing. "Shall the four of us go out for dinner afterwards? My treat, as a congratulations for the show."

"i'd love to," he accidentally sends instead of hitting backspace. Too strong, but also too late now. "thanks. i'll let trucy and our carpool know"

After the kids win their trial, Athena takes Juniper to the show, compliments his and Trucy's work, and gives a fascinating rundown of the actors who, to her sensitive hearing, sounded the most sincere: her highlights are Jetsam, Ariel, and one ensemble member specifically when she played a maid but not when she played a sailor; Phoenix apparently sounded the most sincere when worrying about Ariel's safety and the least when railing against humans. Will Powers compliments his acting - he hadn't even told him he was in this; apparently Will just enjoys community theatre - and offers to introduce him to his agent if he's ever interested.

He gets assigned to foyer photos duty after the Saturday matinée. Even besides having to play Triton for longer, up close and personal, and unscripted, it's a busy afternoon for him and Trucy: Gumshoe and Maggey bring their kids and insist on getting a photo with him in costume even though the kids are clearly more interested in Ariel and Ursula. The Tenmas bring them both bouquets of nine-tails flowers and Trucy catches up with Jinxie, before Bonny and Betty draw Trucy into an in depth discussion about the tricks she used.

On Saturday night, Apollo and Vera attend the show together and Klavier watches again, now that he's seen the movie. Vera congratulates him and Trucy with a spark in her eyes not unlike a lawyer who's just realized something about the evidence, and three days later they receive a painting of both of them as merpeople in the mail. (Though merman Phoenix is simply his Triton costume and makeup but with a real tail instead of a skirt, mermaid Trucy's cape is turned into fins and she still has a magician hat. It may be the cutest fanart of Trucy he's ever seen. Phoenix hangs it in the office next to the review.) After her compliments, Trucy takes her on a tour of the undersea set dressing set up around the photo for people to take photos with; he overhears Trucy talking about the expanding foam used for the coral as they go.

It's a surprise to him when Apollo mentions he knew their Ariel from when they were kids, considering she only moved to Japanifornia for college, but he doesn't get the chance to pry into this before it emerges that his assumption that Apollo hadn't seen The Little Mermaid was correct: Apollo, like Klavier a few days ago, enjoyed the show as a new-to-him story as well as for the performances and production values and, like Phoenix some weeks ago, attempts to get into the legalities. Phoenix gently shuts him down with Miles' question of where exactly under the sea they are.

"Legal questions aside, I did like the show once more," says Klavier. Apparently having taken Phoenix's comment about looking like an asshole wearing sunglasses inside to heart, he's wearing a face mask to disguise himself tonight instead. "It's nice, using songs to tell a story. Maybe I'll give it a try one of these days. What did Fatboy Slim call that album about the Philippine First Lady, a concept album...?"

That thought is making Apollo faintly green, so Phoenix contemplates community theatre group confidentiality for only about a second before telling him, "These guys are putting on a show called RENT this winter." He doesn't know if Klavier acts, but he sings and plays guitar, and that makes him Roger material. "You should have a listen to it, or watch the movie; see if you might want to audition."

"Just please do not write a concept album about Khura'inese royalty," Apollo blurts out.

Phoenix decides not to question why Apollo's mind went there, but he does agree. "Yeah, Apollo won't say it because he's also white, but you're too white to write that album."

"Don't worry, my dear attorneys, the idea had never occurred to me," Klavier says cheerfully, as Trucy and Vera make their way back to them, Vera looking nervous. "But thank you for the suggestion of RENT, Herr Wright. Forehead, Fräuleins, would you like to come over and watch it with me tonight?"

"What?" says Apollo, with a sideways glance at Vera. "No, I can't: I'm taking Vera home."

"I'm free," Trucy says hopefully.

"Nice try, kiddo, but we're going home too," says Phoenix. "We've got brunch with Baachan and Grandpa tomorrow morning." Also, he would prefer she didn't go alone to movie nights with rockstars. She can wait till her brother can come too so they can supervise each other.

Klavier's eyes soften above his mask. "Ah, yes, family is important. Some other time, then."

Apollo, Vera, and Klavier say their goodbyes after that, and walk off discussing whether or not Grimsby looked like Miles. (From what he can hear, Klavier thinks so, Apollo disagrees, and Vera, who hasn't met him, is confused.) As he and Trucy wait for the rest of the people in their carpool to finish up at the theatre, he leans over and kisses the side of Trucy's hat, too lazy to take it off to kiss her forehead.

"Hey - two show day's over," he tells her. "Just one more show and then we get a break."

Chapter Text

When Kay gets into his car with two bouquets, "One each for Trucy and That Man," Miles is struck by the absurd thought that maybe he should have gotten the Wrights flowers again now that he's actually seeing the show, and for a moment he considers finding a florist on the way to the theatre. But then, Trucy had sent him photos of both her bouquet and Phoenix's at their respective bases backstage, and Phoenix's looked like it was already taking up a lot of his space.

Still, the thought persists in the back of his mind until they reach the theatre and Kay's hands are too full for a program. He takes one for the both of them, plus an "ocean blue" slushie (so the front of house staffer calls it) for Kay, and they find their seats. They have surprisingly good seats for having only rebooked on Thursday night, but they're between two families with small children. While he doesn't mind children from about eight or so (unless Pearl and Trucy had just been very well behaved and clever eight-year-olds), he does wish this theatre group sold wine.

Unfortunately, this is the matinée of a family show, so he buries himself in the program: several ads for the local businesses who sponsored the show, a synopsis, a list of songs and the characters who sing them, a cast list in order of appearance--

"Oh," says Kay, reading over his shoulder. "I didn't know Mr. Wright had a middle name."

"I've only ever seen it on his passport," he admits. "I didn't know he was using it here."

He turns the page and finds headshots for the actors playing Ariel, Eric, Sebastian, and Ursula, smiling forward and wearing shades of blue, and accompanying bios. Finding Phoenix becomes more important than reading up on the leads: there he is on the next page, in a sky blue Henley that matches one of his eyes and contrasts delightfully with the other. He looks so good that Miles almost forgets to read his bio until Kay says, "Legally Blonde," and snickers.

Phoenix Ryūichi Wright (he/him) - King Triton

Phoenix Ryūichi Wright has not been onstage since his days as an art student at Ivy University, where he played Doody in Grease, Nick Bottom in A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Carlos in Legally Blonde before switching degrees. He'd like to thank the production team for giving him a chance on his community theatre debut, the cast for making him feel welcome despite coming in so late, and his parents and daughter for always supporting him. Phoenix is represented by the Wright Anything Agency.

"Objection," he says. "Phoenix played SparkleStar onstage at Sparkle Land after college."

"Sparkle Land, that theme park with the weird blob mascots that closed after one of the character performers murdered another one and he died onstage?"

"I didn't realize it had closed," he admits. He doesn't pay a lot of attention to theme parks when he's not being actively dragged to one.

"I watched a Defunctland video about it! I'm so sad I never went," she says. "I didn't know Mr. Wright worked there."

"He didn't," he says. "We were doing the hostess a favor after the murder trial until they hired replacement performers."

He only realizes his slip up in pronouns when glee lights up Kay's face.

"You played a blob mascot too?!" she exclaims. "Which one?"

"Urk," he says eloquently, flicking through the pages in search of a distraction.

"That's not a Star mascot," Kay says with a sharp grin.

"I invoke my Miranda right to stay silent," he says, turning over to the crew page, and on it, Trucy. Eureka.

Kay is suitably distracted. "Ooh, I can't believe they got a photo of her without her hat!"

Trucy Wright (she/her) - Special Effects

Trucy Wright was born to a magician troupe and spent her early childhood assisting on national magic tours with her family, before performing her first solo magic show at age nine. Now seventeen years old, Trucy has grown up performing street magic shows throughout Europe on family vacations and now headlines regular magic shows at the Wonder Bar. She is developing her first major show, Trucy in Gramarye-Land, which will be performed at the Penrose Theater in late April. The Little Mermaid is her first time using magic for special effects in theater. Trucy is represented by the Wright Anything Agency and is a youth member of the International Brotherhood of Magicians.

"'The International Brotherhood of Magicians'," Kay reads aloud. "Is that a union for magicians?"

"No, it's more like a professional organization; they don't advocate for magicians' working rights as unions do," he says, his Miranda right forgotten in the need to explain. She stares at him. "Trucy told me about it when she was younger. I paid for her first year's membership for Christmas one year." He thinks a lifetime membership will be a nice birthday present when she turns eighteen and will finally be eligible for it. "Besides, she's too young to join a union."

"Oh, that's why she's not in Apollo's union," she says. Miles boggles. "She was texting me a couple months ago saying Apollo was trying to unionize the WAA. At first she and Athena laughed him off but then she decided he had some points."

He has so many questions. For Phoenix. For now, he makes a mental note to bring IFPTE brochures the next time he visits his office, goes back to read the rest of the program, and keeps Kay from dripping her slushie onto the pages. When she texts Trucy to break a leg, he asks her to add a good luck message from him as well, which she does only by adding an old man emoji to her text. He sighs. Really, he should have known better.

Eventually, the lights go down and music starts playing. The stage has no curtains, only set pieces of large rocks and an LED screen showing the ocean. From behind the center rock emerges the young Khura'inese woman playing Ariel, her costume and wig clearly more inspired by the original movie than the live action, her gestures more cartoonish than naturalistic. When she starts singing, her voice is stunning. Amusingly, Kay looks just as taken in by her as the young children on either side of them.

Ariel makes way for a ship full of sailors, some of whom are definitely women dressed as men, and Kay bursts into giggles, ignoring his attempt to shush her.

"Look, it's you!"

"Just because he's wearing a cravat--" he starts.

"He even talks like you too," she adds, as Prince Eric's - royal guard? - Grimsby, apparently - starts saying lines.

Other people in the audience are starting to look at her, and luckily she quiets down. In his opinion Grimsby's costume looks much more like what Manfred von Karma wore than his own clothing, but he's not about to tell her that.

The sailors' song about King Triton makes him impatient to see Phoenix, or at least one of Trucy's effects. It's likely rude to be watching only for two people, one of whom is in a minor role and the other of whom is in the crew, but then he's hardly the target audience for this. At least Kay is getting invested enough in the story for both of them as Ariel coos over a fork left in the ship's wake, laughing at the seagull as hard as any child.

"Music?" Ariel repeats after Scuttle, alarmed. "Oh no, the concert! Oh my gosh, my father's going to kill me!"

He perks up at the mention of Ariel's father, in a way his spine recognizes as familiar from when Trucy mentions hers. Kay smirks at him in a way that says she noticed, but he ignores her.

People dressed as sea creatures and merpeople come on holding fake sea flora, and, flanked by two probably seahorses, a man in a crown and a blue skirt and little else enters--

No. Phoenix in a crown and a blue skirt and little else - oh, okay, some golden shoulder armor and cuffs, an amulet, and scales of blue and white body paint along his décolletage - enters, carrying a golden trident. Even his hair is in waves with blue at the tips of his spikes. Miles' mouth is suddenly dry. He misses Phoenix's first line for staring at him, taking in the blue and white scales painted along his hair line as well as making a V down his chest, his broad, broad shoulders, the trail of hair leading down to--

"You're drooling," Kay whispers, and he blanches.

"I am most definitely not."

"If you had your mouth open any longer, you would have been," she says with a grin, and he sighs and returns his attention to the stage, where Sebastian the crab is entering.

The proud smile on Phoenix's face as Sebastian tells him about his daughters' singing reminds Miles of when people praise Trucy in front of him. It makes him smile in return even though Phoenix isn't looking at the audience, the fourth wall firmly in place for him.

And then six more mermaids come onstage, blocking Miles' view of Phoenix. These must be Triton's other daughters, then. He squints at them as they sing: none of them look a day over their mid-twenties. Still, despite what the review had said about Phoenix looking too young to be their father, it's all too easy to believe him as the single father to these seven girls instead of just one, trying not to play favorites but still doting on and worrying about the baby of the family.

Miles' memories of The animated Little Mermaid are vague. He only remembers watching the animated version twice in his childhood, and doesn't remember the plot: once with Franziska, in German without English subtitles, soon after he'd arrived at the von Karma household, not nearly fluent enough yet to understand it; once with Phoenix and Larry, and Phoenix had cried and Larry had laughed at him.

In neither of these languages, nor the live action remake, does he remember King Triton singing. It doesn't come completely out of nowhere because Phoenix has mentioned learning songs, and he'd known Phoenix can at least somewhat carry a tune from singing along to his car radio or to movies Trucy or Kay put on, but it still takes his breath away. Though the melody's simple, Phoenix brings in emotion which Miles would swear was real: he must have, some time in the years since adopting Trucy, wished for someone who would know how much to allow and how much to restrict her.

Finally seeing Phoenix onstage turns out to help get him into the plot. He's surprised to learn that Ursula is Triton's older sister here; he doesn't remember that from the movies, and nor does he remember this song of hers. She reminds him of some criminals on the stand in her utter lack of remorse and outright glee in explaining her crimes, although he's certainly never tried a defendant who killed their six sisters and then their father, and a confession in song is definitely more entertaining than anything in court. 'Part of Your World' is sung prettily and is soon followed by Trucy's first special effects in the show, her illusions adding plenty of drama to a storm at sea even before the ship breaks apart (how???) and Prince Eric falls overboard and has to get rescued by Ariel.

When Triton's other daughters come back on to gossip about Ariel, Miles decides to enlist co-counsel.

"Which one do you think is the oldest?" he whispers to Kay. "Phoenix thought I wouldn't be able to guess."

"The character?"

"The actor."

They scrutinize the sisters together, though Kay nods her head to the song.

"Not the purple one, she looks like she's in middle school," she says.

"I've ruled out the pink one for the same reason." Though he wouldn't have said a middle schooler: the mermaids in the pink and purple costumes look around Trucy's age, certainly more like teenagers than Ariel.

"Did the red one's bio in the program have all school shows?"

"I can't remember," he admits.

At length, Kay contributes, "This song is a jam though! Wish I had sisters I could make a girl group with. And that I could sing."

He times his huff of amusement with a pun in the lyrics. The 60's girl group sound of this song, another one he doesn't remember from the movies, is not what he'd call a favorite genre, but the Mersisters have had some of the most complex harmonies in the show so far, which is fun.

Once Sebastian, Flounder, and Ariel's sisters all realize Ariel has fallen in love with a human, the story diverts to the land, where Prince Eric sings a solo about falling in love with a voice. Miles finds himself distracted by the mental image of a young Phoenix as a romantic leading man like this: he claims to never have had a main role, but Miles could see him pulling it off, and is fairly certain this is because of his voice and acting, not because Miles has cast him as the love interest in his own life.

'Under the Sea' is familiar from the movies, and he catches Kay dancing in her seat, which makes him laugh aloud. But then Phoenix is back onstage, first angry then furious, and Miles is spellbound. Phoenix has snapped at him before (and apologized, in the case of him saying Miles shouldn't have come back from the dead, but it still makes the occasional appearance in Miles' nightmares when he's feeling low), he's seen him fired up in court, but never like this. No, this is Phoenix acting, and despite the context of Triton yelling at his youngest daughter over her love for someone of a species who killed his wife, it's somehow, alarmingly, attractive. Miles blames the passion in his voice combined with the lack of shirt.

It is less attractive when Triton destroys Ariel's shrine to humanity, the idea of danger more alluring than actual magical violence, but Trucy's effects here distract him - surely they're not actually breaking that large statue and other set pieces every night and twice on Saturdays? Miles puzzles over how she created those illusions through the next two songs.

Kay murmurs, "Finally!" at Ursula's next song, another one from the movies, but while she's delighted and mouthing along with the lyrics, Miles finds himself trying to read the text on the contract produced by one of the eels. The show has so far provided no clues about where in the sea they are beyond the General American accents used by most of the cast except Grimsby and Sebastian, so Japanifornia law may or may not apply, and maybe talk of souls in legal contracts is more common under the sea. Maybe merpeople can delegate their power younger than humans can; the show's only indication of Ariel's age has been that she's the youngest, which doesn't mean a lot when a few of her 'older' sisters look younger than her. Did Ursula draft this contract herself and this is why the procedural clause about getting a kiss from the prince in three days is so very bespoke?

His attention is drawn by Ursula transforming Ariel into a human with more effects from Trucy, and he's not sure how she managed to make it actually look like Ariel's mermaid tail is turning into human legs but she's done it, Ariel swimming her way to the surface with all too human legs before taking a breath.

The house lights come up, and Kay looks over at him and asks, "Are you overthinking the contract or the illusion?"

At length, he admits, "Both."

"Nerd," she says fondly. "Can you get me another slushie? I need the restroom."

They head out to the foyer and their respective lines. Once he has her second slushie in hand, he checks his phones and, finding no work emergencies, contemplates texting Phoenix. Anything he can think of to say feels inadequate for the depth of feeling Phoenix's performance has stirred in him, and he also doesn't want to alarm him with that depth of feeling, so he eventually resorts to, "Kay and I are thoroughly enjoying the production."

"Understatement," says Kay, suddenly at his elbow reading his phone, and he jumps. He hadn't realized he'd overthought his message for so long that she actually made it into and out of the restroom.

"What if this had been confidential?"

"It was just to That Man," she waves him off, and she relieves him of the slushie. "Speaking of, Mr. Wright is good. I had no idea he could sing like that, or act."

"Nor did I," he admits. Phoenix isn't the most polished actor in the cast, likely owing to his limited rehearsal time and lack of recent training or experience, but nor is he among the worst, and he is definitely Miles' favorite.

"And I love Trucy's effects! I can't wait to see what she does in the second act."

He's only half listening, because Phoenix has replied, "glad you're having fun! see you in costume after"

Not if he has a heart attack from seeing Phoenix in that costume up close. "Phoenix will be doing meet and greets in costume after the show," he reports to Kay, who has thankfully stopped reading over his shoulder.

"Oh, fun, let's get a photo with him and Trucy!"

"We'd already planned on it," he says, and to Phoenix he sends, "Speaking of costumes, Kay says Grimsby is me."

"Old men and their phones," Kay says with a sigh.

"I'm only nine years older than you," he points out, not for the first time.

"And yet we're a whole generation apart!"

"really? klavier thought so too," texts Phoenix. Gavin was wise to not mention this at work the other day. "i thought he looked more like von karma"

He had never expected the thought of von Karma to be a relief to him, but it's nice that Phoenix is on his side on this. He'd hate to bring this up to Franziska when she sees the show. "I thought the same thing," he replies.

"thought he was back from the dead the first time i saw grimsby's costume" Phoenix adds.

A moment later, he receives a selfie of Phoenix, still in costume, and Trucy in all black with a headset on, clearly taken by Trucy in Phoenix's dressing room mirror. Oh, he is absolutely going to die seeing Phoenix in costume up close. When was the last time he updated his will?

"tee hee (ˉ▽￣～)" he receives from Phoenix's phone, quickly followed by, "trucy says hi btw" as if he couldn't guess who had sent both the selfie and the giggle.

"Kay, please take a selfie of us for me," he says, handing his phone over. As with Trucy and Phoenix, Kay is better at selfies than he is.

"Sure thing," she says, and proceeds to take at least three before he's ready, and a further four once he's actually smiling, before returning his phone. "Is this for Mr. Wright?"

"Yes, he sent me one with Trucy," he says, showing her the picture.

"You two are cute," she says. "Do you finally 'just know' yet?"

Luckily the bell to return to their seats saves him from answering, and he hurries her back in so they hopefully won't have to squeeze past either of the families they're sitting between. He sends Phoenix the most tolerable of the selfies once they're seated, then tucks his phone away.

The first musical number of the second act is a tap number from Scuttle backed up by a flock of seagulls that makes him feel suddenly nine years old again, snuggled into his father's side, watching Singin' in the Rain. His father had loved classic musical films with tap performances- he'd forgotten until now. He doesn't realize the thought is making him a little misty eyed until Kay elbows him and gives him a raised eyebrow during the encore.

And then Phoenix is briefly back onstage, anxious about his missing daughter. One time after one of Trucy's shows, he'd mentioned there was a short scene where he hadn't told the director that his inspiration was what he was "really feeling" when Trucy was taken hostage by Aura Blackquill. This must be what he was talking about. He'd seemed a little on edge during the UR-1 retrial and investigation, but Miles hadn't wanted to pry, not with the urgency of lives on the line, and then Phoenix hadn't wanted to talk about it afterwards, moving on quickly as he always seems to. Miles aches to think he'd been bottling this worry up inside, and wonders at the fact that he's now using it as acting inspiration for a scene so short it barely seems worth the set change.

The thing about Triton being played by his best friend whom he's been in love with for years is that Miles finds himself relating to perhaps the wrong character. As Ariel swans about on land trying to court the Prince, he gets annoyed at her lack of care for those at home worrying about her, and then at her friends who are enabling her and also not passing on her whereabouts. Sebastian is excused from his wrath on account of trying to avoid being cooked. It helps that said avoidance of getting cooked makes Kay laugh and makes him feel vindicated in his choice of restaurant for dinner: Trucy's cited Chef Louis' songs as her favorite scenes neither she nor Phoenix are involved in.

By contrast, Phoenix favors this Ariel and Eric dance number sung by Prince Eric; more recently Trucy mentioned he's starting to try and learn the dance himself from the side of the stage with anyone who'll join him. It's sweet, Miles supposes, but he'd never found ballroom dance particularly like language when von Karma had put him and Franziska in classes, and there's a section of this performance that sweeps around the stage in what is probably meant to be a waltz but gets the most basic step wrong. Perhaps he's simply too familiar with the subject matter to enjoy this song.

"Ooh, goodie," Kay says when the story returns to Ursula and her eels. "I wonder if this is when she'll turn into Vanessa."

Trucy has not mentioned a transformation for Ursula, but Miles holds his tongue rather than give Kay spoilers. He suspects he would find this reprise of Ursula's more amusing if not for the mention of Triton and Ursula's plan to kill him as well as Ariel, because now he's worried for Triton. He'd rather not watch Phoenix play a death scene, no matter how shirtless he is for it, not when Phoenix has gone through so much in real life that could have killed him.

Ariel and Eric come on in a tiny half-rowboat, and Miles stares. There are no tracks on the stage, there's been too much dancing and movement of set pieces for that; no stage hands are moving the rowboat; yet neither Ariel nor Eric are touching the ground to move the rowboat along: Eric is 'rowing'; Ariel has her hands in her lap. At first he wonders if it might be on a pre-programmed route, but then the ensemble comes on in black with string lights and the rowboat is avoiding them too neatly, even when one dancer clearly makes a mistake (judging by the look on his face). Trucy has a talent for moving things without showing how, but not with two people both bigger than she is on them. He does remember this musical number from the movie, and it has some unusually polyphonic texture compared to the rest of the songs so far, but this marvelous set piece is very distracting, even when Kay shrieks with laughter at Scuttle squawking over Sebastian and the ensemble.

Right before Ariel and Eric can kiss, Ursula calls for it to be blocked, and the eels slither onstage and strike the boat with lightning in a trick he recognizes from Trucy's shows, albeit not directed from a person. It's nice to see something familiar developed for a plot point and with an additional light show for the after effects - when he applauds with the rest of the audience, it's as much for Trucy's work here as it is for the musical number.

Phoenix looks so stressed when he returns onstage that for a moment, Miles nostalgically expects to see a Fey nearby for how much his expression reminds him of some trials before he'd been disbarred. Of course, instead of a spirit medium, it's Sebastian and Flounder, finally telling Triton about Ariel's whereabouts and the deal she made with Ursula. His determination to "settle things with her once and for all" reminds Miles not of his fire in court, but of his passion to develop the MASON system and his tenacity in investigating Kristoph Gavin and the evidence that got him disbarred. It's a good look on him in the shirtless costume and with the context of rescuing his daughter.

Though Miles expects to be unmoved when Ariel starts moping in song, the lyrics are about wanting to tell Eric she loves him, and okay, he can relate a little too much to having dreams she can't declare and needs she can't deny. (He does think she should simply write it down since she's proven literate.) The counterpoint with Eric is nice, and Sebastian's affection for Ariel is sweet, but it's all driven out of his head when the lights come up on Phoenix joining the song too, singing out Triton's guilt for pushing his daughter away. Miles' heart is in his throat as he follows Phoenix's melodic line in the resulting four part counterpoint. His three part harmony with Sebastian and Ariel is lovely, and his low "if only", more resigned than Ariel's or Sebastian's, finishing out the song breaks Miles' heart. The only reason he doesn't give a standing ovation for the song is because no one else does.

There's little time to dwell on it, though, as the singing contest Grimsby had promised Eric in the first act and the land storyline had kept hinting at throughout the second act finally takes place. It occurs to Miles that Eric had mentioned the day of the contest was his birthday: listening to some truly awful singers seems an terrible way to spend it. Kay just about cackles at his side, adding to the cacophony, especially as the singing contest quickly deteriorates into a near scrap onstage between the six foreign princesses.

Of course Eric chooses to marry Ariel regardless of her current inability to sing; Miles wonders who is going to tell her worried family. Of course Ursula chooses that moment to appear, now enormous (to Kay's delight), to take Ariel back to the sea, as per her contract stipulating the third day's sunset as the deadline for kissing him. Miles leans forward, anticipating Phoenix, and isn't disappointed when Phoenix just about roars "Ursula!" from offstage with a rage he's never heard before; who knew Phoenix had that in him? Heaven help anyone who might get that reaction out of him in real life.

Phoenix's growled argument with Ursula's song about her contract has Miles on the edge of his seat, until Miles blurts out "What?" at the same time as him when Ursula offers to trade Triton's soul for Ariel's. He assumes it's Phoenix's actual line, but Miles is thinking about adding another party and an amendment to the contract without consent from one of the original parties, of early termination under a condition which almost certainly was not in the original contract. Undersea contract law is a mess and he almost wishes the writers hadn't bothered calling this plot point a contract, had instead called it something else that wouldn't get his legal mind whirring.

His mind quiets at the sight of Phoenix powerless and imprisoned, sheer emotion taking over instead. Miles finds himself watching Phoenix even as Ariel apparently takes Ursula's magic shell and gets her voice back: his chest heaving with the sudden weakness of losing his magic, his eyes on Ariel and full of worry, then widening when Triton and Ariel finally learn that it was Ursula, not humans, who had killed Ariel's mother. Miles' attention is drawn from him only by what must be Trucy's special effects for Ursula's death, black and tentacles spilling like ink. How did she do it?

It's nice that Ariel finally apologizes for worrying Triton, but it's Triton telling her he's proud of her and then seeing Ariel's love for Eric that once again brings a tear to Miles' eye at how earnestly Phoenix plays the lines. Then Triton turns Ariel back into a human and though some of the basic shapes in Trucy's effects are the same as Ursula's had been, there's somehow a much warmer, lighter feeling to this spell; Trucy did well to keep them different but still related.

The sight of Triton listening to Eric ask for Ariel's hand in marriage makes Miles imagine Phoenix doing the same for Trucy one day, right down to pointing out his daughter can in fact speak for herself. He can't help but find Phoenix's truths in Triton's reprise of his first song as well: since Trucy hit her teenage years, Phoenix has occasionally lamented her "growing up so fast" and this year, realizing she's now a junior in high school, once wished he could make time stop.

"You're crying," murmurs Kay, fascinated.

Unlike the 'drooling' in the first act, this is not a lie: his glasses are starting to fog up. He fumbles in his pocket for a handkerchief.

As the rest of the cast piles onstage for what must be the final song, Miles tears his gaze from Phoenix to look at the whole stage once more, minor characters from land and sea cheering on Ariel and Eric's wedding. There's a standing ovation from the audience as the stage lights dim and he gladly joins it, along with Kay. He takes his seat in the brief moment before the lights come back up and the bows start, and stands up again when Phoenix takes his bow, even unleashing a "Whoooooooooooooop!" Kay gasps beside him, but he doesn't bother to look at how astonished she must be because Phoenix's eyes find his and light up as Phoenix raises his trident, and Phoenix's gaze lingers on his for a couple more of his castmates' bows.

The house lights coming back on to the sound of Triton's daughters' girl band song as the cast dances offstage make Miles blink, the real world returning. Even if the story wasn't necessarily to his taste, he feels privileged to have seen another side of Phoenix, one which Phoenix clearly enjoys and is good at, tugging at Miles' heartstrings while being far too handsome and shirtless for Miles' good. God, he loves him, loves seeing him that happy.

"Where did you learn to whoop like that?" Kay demands as she scoops up her bouquets, leaving him to take her now empty slushie cup.

"Gumshoe," he admits, looking away. Even now he's usually too self conscious to whoop; truly Phoenix had temporarily unlocked something in him.

"Whaaaaaat?!"

"Kay, we need to go, these people are trying to leave--"

In the foyer and out of the way of any families, he and Kay debate Phoenix's oldest daughter ("Mersister," she corrects him, while checking the program for clues) once more. They've just decided on one when a mildly familiar voice says, "Is that the heinous prosecutor?"

They turn to see a woman with a large afro coming towards them. Ah, yes, the photographer who kept popping up in his cases several years ago.

"Lotta Hair?" asks Kay, which, honestly, was Miles' guess too.

"Aww heck naw, you're as bad as City Boy!" the woman grumbles. "It's Lotta Hart, missy."

"It's good to see you again," Miles lies, hoping to head off the rest of a scolding.

The redirection works. "I'd say the same, but every time I run into y'all, somethin's crazier than a dog in a hubcap factory."

"What," he says flatly.

Lotta rolls her eyes. "Alright, I'll say it Yank: Has someone been--" At the last second, she steps closer to both him and Kay and manages to loudly whisper, "-- murdered?"

"No!" Kay yelps. "No, we're not working."

"My best friend played King Triton," he says, trying to avoid causing alarm. "And his daughter did the special effects."

"Oh, I didn't realize you and City Boy were such good friends now," Lotta says. 'City Boy' must be Phoenix, then. "He did good as the mermaids' daddy!"

"Yes, he did," he agrees, and from Kay's sideways grin at him, he can tell it came out a little too fondly. "What brings you here?"

"My sister did the set," says Lotta. "And my baby niece played Flounder! Remember the name Olivia Beaton-Hart: that gal's gonna be a star one day, I reckon."

"Oh, she was so cute!" Kay gushes.

She and Lotta discuss young Olivia while Miles keeps an eye out for Trucy and Phoenix. At last there's a flash of sky blue in his peripheral vision, and he finds Trucy beelining for them. He excuses himself and Kay from Lotta, grateful for the escape.

Kay shoves the flowers at him so she can throw her arms around Trucy as soon as she's in range. "Trucy, you were amazing! That was such a fun show!"

"It was wonderful," he concurs. "I enjoyed your effects when Triton turned Ariel back into a human, did you use the--"

"Just because this isn't a magic show doesn't mean you get to try and figure out my tricks," Trucy says, withdrawing from Kay's hug with a wink at him. "But thank you!"

"These are for you," Kay says, taking the bouquets back to hand one to Trucy. "Seeing as Gramps already sent you some."

"Thanks! Good thing I'm taking all my flowers home today for the break: my workspace is getting so full," Trucy says, beaming.

"Deservedly so," he says.

"I liked the storm!" Kay enthuses. "And when Mr. Wright smashed Ariel's collection."

"Ooh, that's Daddy's favorite effect he cues," says Trucy. She correctly infers the meaning of his raised eyebrow at the mention of her father in his absence and adds, "He's just getting his mic pack off. He'll be out soon!"

Kay gives further commentary on the show, with Miles occasionally adding his own ("Grimsby did not look that much like me"), then mourns the loss of some of the movie plot points in the adaptation to stage ("I think if anyone could have made Vanessa transform into Ursula onstage, it would be you, Truce"), until Trucy's gaze suddenly catches in the distance.

"Hang on, I think I see Lamiroir...?"

"What's a famous singer like her doing at a community theatre show?" Kay wonders aloud for all of them.

"I dunno," says Tracey. "But I'll go ask."

"She wouldn't be the first celebrity here," Miles muses, as she heads off. "Gavin's attended twice, and Phoenix said Will Powers saw the show the other night." If he had known Will Powers enjoys community theatre, he would have started watching local shows long before the Wrights got involved in this one.

"Did you scream, 'Nnnnnggghhhhoooooooooooh' when you found out it wasn't the same show you had tickets for?"

If Miles doesn't answer her, it's definitely not because he's ignoring her: Phoenix has just walked in, still playing King Triton. He leads the immediate horde of children off from the entranceway with a beatific smile Miles doesn't think he's ever seen before, and only then starts letting parents take photos of him with their children, kneeling down to them, posing with them, and gently pointing out their parents' phones so the kids stop looking at him for the photo.

And then he's looking at Miles, and he flashes him a smile quite unlike the one all these strangers are getting. Instinctively, Miles makes to come and join him, only for Phoenix to be drawn aside by another family.

"I can steal every last parent's phone," Kay offers. "Then they won't be able to take photos with him."

"Kay, you're a detective."

"I can non-consensually borrow all the phones," she amends. "I'd give them back once you've had your heartfelt reunion."

"What 'heartfelt reunion'?" he asks. "I worked a case with him last week."

"And you've been pining at work ever since." She gives him a guileless smile. "The Great Yatagaratsu is interested in emotional truths as well, you know."

"I'm not having this conversation with you," he says, and he catches Phoenix's eye. Phoenix makes a small gesture with his trident to a less crowded part of the foyer, and Miles takes the hint to follow, bundling Kay over with him; Trucy soon joins them, now with an additional bouquet of white flowers in hand.

"Congratulations, Mr. Wright!" Kay says, presenting him with her other bouquet. "You were so good! Gramps never told me That Man could sing."

"Thanks, Kay," says Phoenix, though his gaze soon slides onto Miles with warmth so open Miles doesn't know what to do. "To be fair, he's never heard me try until today."

"Oh, we have to get a photo while Daddy's in costume," says Trucy, and she flags down a passing mermaid to take a photo of "me and my family". Miles' heart swells.

The girls crowd in front of them, Kay giving Trucy two fingered bunny ears above her hat, and with a smile, Phoenix slides an arm around Miles to bring him in closer. His heart skips a beat before he returns the gesture, smiling tentatively back as he reaches around Phoenix's bare back.

"Everyone say 'Under the Sea'," says the mermaid, making the girls laugh.

"'Under the Sea'!"

"Okay, I got a few, hopefully one works. Trucy, how about you and your sister go on the sides so we can see Nick's costume?"

"Ooh, good idea."

Trucy immediately strikes one of her magician poses at Phoenix's side and Kay goes to Miles' side to play her assistant showing her and Phoenix off. Phoenix doesn't move, probably thinking being able to see his skirt? tail? is enough of a change, and in deference to Kay's pose, Miles lifts one hand in Phoenix's direction, but does not let go of him, because Phoenix hasn't let go either. The mermaid taps on Trucy's phone a few times before passing it back to her.

"There you go, hope you like 'em."

"Thanks, Tala!"

The only reason Miles lets go of Phoenix is because Phoenix lets go first, withdrawing to look at Trucy's flowers, barely contained in one hand as she tucks her phone away.

"Who are the white flowers from, Truce?"

"Lamiroir," she says, looking down at the bouquet as if just remembering she had it. "I was surprised she was here! She said she liked the show, and especially my magic. She's had an eye operation, so she could actually see it all! Then she asked for a photo, which was a little weird. Who gets photos with special effects people? But I said yes."

"Huh," says Phoenix, with an interested look in his eyes which Miles decides to ask him about later. "That was kind of you."

"I asked Lomasi to take a photo on my phone too, so I can show Polly and Klavier," she says. "Anyway, speaking of liking the show, I don't think we've heard from Uncle Miles yet."

"Nghurk--" Thrown by the sudden attention, Miles has less time to moderate his opinions. "Of course I liked the show. You were magnificent, Phoenix."

The blushing smile that blooms across Phoenix's face is surprised and lovely. "Thanks. That's high praise."

"It's entirely deserved," he says, folding his arms. "Which is not to say you were the only good part. I've already given Trucy my compliments. And I found myself intrigued by the rowboat in - Kay, what was the song with the fireflies?"

"'Kiss the Girl'," Kay supplies. "But I think the program said they were swans."

"I love that boat," says Phoenix. "I was sitting on it between scenes today."

"How'd you do it?" Kay asks Trucy.

"Oh, that's not one of mine," says Trucy.

"There's an engine in the bottom and Ariel steers it with a control under her skirt," Phoenix says helpfully.

"Daddy!"

"Not magic, and come on, Truce, Aaliyah - that's the set designer and builder, Miles - has been telling everyone who'll hold still long enough to listen. She's not keeping it a secret."

"Lotta's sister," Kay murmurs.

"I can't take you anywhere," Trucy tells her father. She grabs Kay's hand, says, "Let's go get photos with the leads," and tiptoes to kiss Miles on the cheek. "Thanks again for the flowers!"

Phoenix watches them skip off with a chuckle. "Because she doesn't have enough selfies with them backstage."

"Not with Kay, she doesn't," he points out. "And I wager not all in costume."

"Hm, I guess not," Phoenix concedes. He then flashes Miles a smile. "Okay, lay it on me: what did you really think of the show?"

"I suspect I was sympathizing with the wrong character," he admits, and Phoenix laughs. "All the time Ariel was on land, I was thinking of yo-- of Triton, and the Mersisters."

"Yeah, that's definitely an adult perspective," says Phoenix. "Our Ursula understudy was saying she loved the movie as a kid but when she rewatched it as an adult, she almost didn't want her daughter to come to the show because of the whole 'giving up your voice for a man' thing."

"Oh, that part could have been avoided with a lesson in how to read and negotiate the terms of a contract, surely."

"You nerd," says Phoenix, but he's grinning.

"That's not what you called me when we taught Trucy what to look out for in her entertainment contracts."

"No, it isn't," Phoenix agrees, something soft in his gaze that makes Miles hurry onward.

"In any case, I enjoyed the seagull's line about humans looking horrible for having two eyes the same color," he says, and because Phoenix is still looking at him like that with his mismatched eyes, he dares to add, "Rather fitting for your eyes, merman."

Phoenix turns a little pink beneath the stage makeup. "When the doctor told me the poison changed the color of one of my eyes, I never thought I'd be a merman about it," he quips. Miles is briefly horrified to realize that's how he developed heterochromia, but doesn't have time to dwell on it before Phoenix adds, "That was already in the script, they didn't change that for me or anything."

Huh. "But none of the other merfolk had heterochromia." At least not that he could see from the audience. "That's a clear contradiction--"

"You're spending too much time with me," Phoenix says affectionately, and Miles barely stops himself from replying, Not nearly enough.

"And yet I was still surprised by your performance: you were very moving," he says instead. Ngh, too much again, pull it back, Miles. "I wasn't aware you could do that after certain, ah... renditions of 'Uptown Girl'." Namely: sloppy in his car, somehow stuck forever in his memory for the look in Phoenix's eyes.

"What do you mean, 'renditions' plural, that was one time," Phoenix says, and then brightens. "Although if you'd like an encore--"

"No, thank you," he says quickly. "Even now knowing you can, in fact, actually sing."

"Some of those low notes were harder than they used to be. Don't eat glass if you want to be a singer!" At least some of how taken aback he is by this second casual reference to his first murder trial must show on Miles' face, because Phoenix goes sheepish. "Sorry, bad joke."

Without thinking, he puts two fingers on Phoenix's Adam's apple, and feels it when Phoenix swallows. "It still hurts?"

"No, they - the doctors got the scarring out," Phoenix says, though his breath's going unsteady now. "I just meant it's been that long since I've sung in public: not since before - before the trial. Doesn't help that I'm a tenor, and Triton's a little more baritone than I used to sing. I'm rusty."

He sounds rusty, in a way Miles is beginning to think has nothing to do with eating glass in his early twenties nor singing a wider range than he used to. "I see," he says, but it feels like his own voice is coming from very far away as his hand, suddenly gaining a mind of its own, drags down the line of Phoenix's throat, down, down, to trace along the scales painted on his chest. When he looks up, there's a blush spreading across Phoenix's suddenly very close face, and his eyes drop for a moment to Phoenix's mouth, shining with gold lipstick. Phoenix licks his lips. Miles' mouth has never been so dry.

"Miles," Phoenix breathes. Phoenix's hand finds his own, but astonishingly, doesn't push him away, just holds his hand where it is on his chest, and that has to mean something.

"Phoenix," he murmurs, leaning in impossibly closer, close enough to feel Phoenix's breath.

Phoenix is watching him so carefully, until his gaze flicks down to his mouth and he repeats, "Miles," and closes his eyes, and oh, gold eyeshadow shimmers on his eyelids like possibility.

"Hey, look, it's King Triton!"

Miles jolts backwards as if burnt by the woman behind Phoenix approaching with a child and a phone, and fleetingly regrets not taking Kay up on her offer to steal everyone's phones. Phoenix opens his eyes, looking stunned and bewildered.

"I'd better let you get back to your, ah, work," Miles says with great reluctance.

"Yeah," says Phoenix, punched out and breathless.

"I'll wait for you and the girls in the car."

At a loss, he pats Phoenix's shoulder (of all stupid moves), and flees the theatre.

Chapter Text

Phoenix has no memory of the rest of the meet and greet, returning to conscious thought only back in his dressing room with his makeup half off and a wipe in his hand.

Miles almost kissed him.

If he'd known dressing up as a merman and singing would make Miles come even that close to kissing him, he would have dressed up at Halloween.

His phone lights up with a text from Trucy saying where Miles is parked and he almost drops the wipe. Miles almost kissed him and is taking him, Trucy, and Kay out for dinner. How is he supposed to be normal in front of the girls and eat dinner like a human being when Miles almost kissed him?

He wipes off the rest of his makeup and body paint in a rush, not wanting to keep them waiting, and counts himself lucky that he'd dressed smart casual for family brunch this morning instead of in sweats like he'd worn to the show yesterday. Once dressed, he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart before heading out, only for his heart rate to pick right back up again at the mere sight of a red car in the parking lot that isn't even Miles'. What the hell.

When he finds the right car, Miles is staring into the middle distance with his hand to his mouth, but gives him a tentative, almost shy smile as he opens the passenger side door. It takes all of his courtroom bluffing and theatre acting skills to not swoon on the spot. He's bringing home not only the flowers from Kay but his bouquets from Miles and his mom, since they've got a couple of nights off: it wouldn't do to drop them.

"So, where are we going?" He's pretty sure his voice comes out at a normal pitch, surer when no one reacts.

Miles' smile turns to a smirk he hates and loves seeing in court because it means Miles has information he doesn't. "Does 'Under the Sea' still make you crave seafood?"

"Mr. Wright, that's dark," Kay says in awe from the back seat. "Those are your people."

"You are my people, and yes, yes it does." He doesn't even remember telling him about that.

Miles buckles his seatbelt, still smirking. "I think you'll like my choice, then."

The restaurant they end up at not only serves seafood, but is French, and Phoenix laughs and laughs as Trucy sings the 'Les Poissons' reprise under her breath to remember the dishes in the lyrics so she can scour the menu for them.

"You're not gonna find a tuna melt here, baby," he manages to get out. "That's a food of our people, not French, and besides, Miles would never bring us somewhere so lowbrow as to have tuna melts on the menu."

"Heaven forbid I want to treat a rising special effects artist and star," Miles says, but there's a twinkle in his eye that says he not only knows exactly the joke he's made in his restaurant choice, but is proud of himself for it. Phoenix has no idea why the kids say he has no sense of humor.

"There's fish tartare, though," Trucy says, brightening.

After they order, Kay produces a program and a pen (from Miles' furrowed brow and reach into his bag, she may have stolen at least one of these things) and asks him and Trucy to sign her program, now that they have a flat surface. "Remember me when you're famous!"

"No one gets famous in theatre for special effects," Trucy says, drawing a big heart next to her name, but she generously adds, "But when Trucy in Gramarye-Land opens, feel free to sell this on eBay."

"Oh, come on, the autograph on my page is gonna bring the value right down," he says as Trucy signs.

"You underestimate yourself, as usual," says Miles.

Trucy slides the program over to him, and he flips back to his page. "You're very biased," he tells Miles.

Miles peers over as he signs. "I was surprised to see your middle name. Are you going by Phoenix Ryuichi now?"

Despite Miles' mispronunciation, it's still kind of nice to hear him say his middle name, another part of him he doesn't usually disclose now on his tongue. And here he'd thought he was done melting over Miles saying his name when he finally started calling him 'Phoenix' again outside of work instead of exclusively 'Wright'. He gently corrects his pronunciation before explaining, "No, no one calls me that, except my mom when she hasn't seen Trucy for a while. It's still just 'Phoenix' or 'Nick'. I just didn't want theatre people to look up 'Phoenix Wright' and get..." The disbarment. The forged evidence. The accusation of murdering his mentor. The poison vial. "The day job," he eventually settles for, and Miles gives him a nod full of understanding but, importantly, not pity. He's finally gotten good at that over the years. "Instead they can look up 'Phoenix Ryūichi Wright' and get nothing but this show."

"Your stage name going forward, then?"

"You're assuming I'm going to do more shows after this."

"Oh, you should!" Kay exclaims. "You can't let that talent go to waste."

"Every time you've talked to me about rehearsals, it was to say how much you're enjoying being back in theatre," adds Miles.

"You've been so happy these last two months," Trucy says.

"I didn't say I won't," he protests. "It has been nice having a hobby. But it's been tough balancing work with rehearsals and shows. The last thing I want to tell a client is, 'Sorry, I've gotta go pretend to be a merman, but you're in good hands with my junior lawyers, I swear.'"

"He's never had to say that," Trucy tells Miles and Kay.

"Yet," he hedges. There are still five more performances to go. "I don't know. I'd have to think about it, and it depends what shows people put on. I'd like to do Shakespeare again some day."

"You actually like Shakespeare?" Kay asks.

"The most helpful he's ever been with my homework was when we read Twelfth Night in English class," Trucy says. "Do your thing, Daddy-o."

"If music be the food of love, play on," he starts, and is astonished to find he can continue, one of his go-to audition monologues from college apparently still embedded in his memory several years and a few head injuries later. He stands up a couple of lines in and and expects Miles to tell him to sit down, that he's making a scene, but instead finds Miles gazing at him looking no less than enchanted, which feels fitting now that the monologue seems to apply to him. O spirit of love indeed.

"Oh my god," says the waiter when he finishes, over Miles, Trucy, and Kay's applause. "I'd clap too, but I have your drinks."

She looks like one of the Mersisters, which reminds him to ask Miles once she's gone and he's seated again, "Oh yeah, which Mersister did you think was the oldest?"

"The white woman with the blonde hair and blue costume," Miles says confidently.

"Elsa," Kay adds, and Trucy snickers. She's not the first to think that particular Mersister's costume and wig combination looked like a different Disney show's princess: other people in the cast had pointed it out too.

He grins. "Nope! The orange one, the Filipina with the blue wig who took our photos."

"What," Miles says, and Trucy's snicker graduates to laughter.

"I thought she was my age," says Kay.

"So did I," he admits. "Apollo's age at the youngest, Ema's at the oldest. But nope, she's thirty-two. Also an Ivy alum, actually - we've been trying to figure out if we did any shows together before I switched to law."

"Oh, you did theatre in college?" asks Kay. "That explains the Shakespeare speech."

"The professors said to always have a few monologues of different styles ready to go so you don't have to learn a new one for each audition," he explains.

"Like my quick tricks," Trucy offers, and he nods.

"I wanted to be a Shakespearean actor," he says nostalgically. "Had my eye on a study abroad program in London and everything."

Kay peers at him. "So why did you become a lawyer?"

His gaze flicks to Miles. "I wanted to save a friend," he says, and Miles turns pink and attempts to hide it by taking a drink. He smiles. "No regrets, though."

Dinner, once it arrives, is delicious and hits his post-'Under the Sea' cravings in a way his and Trucy's rush job dinners after rehearsals never did. For some reason Miles brings up Apollo's idea of unionizing the Agency. (He's perfectly willing to recognize Apollo's union once it consists of more members than just Apollo! How did Miles even find out about this?) They catch up with Kay, since his office isn't often hired for the cases she and Eustace work on. Miles and Kay share more thoughts on the show: Kay throws Miles under the bus for crying at his reprise in 'Finale Ultimo' and Phoenix is delighted to have gotten such a strong reaction out of him. He confirms that neither of them have annual passes to Disney and it was just his parents being weird when they shoved the passes on him and Trucy at brunch this morning. ("And Dad says, 'You live in SoCal, you can get discounted passes, why did you not have them?'" "So Daddy's all, 'Objection! It takes like two hours to get to Anaheim on public transport.'" "Objection: I did not object to my dad.") Trucy makes post-show Disney plans with Kay, because what Kay lacks in an annual pass, she makes up with a car and a driver's license.

Still, there's an undercurrent of unresolved tension every time he catches Miles' eye or they brush hands on the water carafe or wine bottle (they have never brushed hands on the drinks so many times in one meal before) that has Phoenix inviting Miles and Kay over for tea before they even order dessert. They're never alone to do anything more than that until Miles settles the bill and the girls go to the ladies' room. Miles gives him such a considering look as he tucks his card back in his wallet that Phoenix decides to hell with it, he's not waiting to get him home, he'll bring it up now.

"Hey. Earlier, at the theatre..." If he says this aloud, there's no turning back, and he's never been so nervous and excited to look ahead. "You were about to kiss me."

To his horror, Miles looks at the table and clutches at his elbow, a gesture he hasn't seen in some years. "I apologize. That was... inappropriate. I fondled your chest in publi--"

"Okay, the public fondling was maybe a little inappropriate, but..." Gently, he pulls Miles' hand from his arm, and is rewarded with Miles daring to meet his gaze. Oh, Miles deserves a smile for that. "I really wanted that kiss."

There's a hope in Miles' gray eyes unlike anything he's ever seen before, wild, beautiful. He put that there. "What are you... Phoenix..."

He's pretty sure he knows the answer, but he asks anyway: "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Miles says, faint with disbelief even as he moves forward, turning his hand over in his and holding on like he's a lifeline. "Please, yes."

He can't possibly say no to that and never in a million years would he want to. Phoenix meets him halfway, smiling into his mouth, and it's so much better than what he's imagined all these years because it's real, it's Miles, lips he never thought would be so soft (stupid of him: he's seen chapstick in his briefcase), tentative, his skin warm beneath his palm when he lifts his free hand to cup his cheek. His movement seems to unlock something in Miles, because Miles makes a stunned but pleased sound against his mouth and presses closer, squeezes his hand tighter, opens his mouth to him. Phoenix has never cared for wine pairings the way Miles does, good wine is good wine, but he could get addicted to tasting it on Miles' tongue.

"Finally," squeals Trucy, and he and Miles spring apart, Phoenix jumping too hard and managing to knock over his chair and fall on the floor by accident. The same thing happened to him one time his parents had caught him with a girl back in high school. Never had he thought that he might one day be a parent caught by his teenager.

"Are you okay?" Miles is the first to ask, offering him a hand up.

He takes his hand and impulsively kisses his knuckles, drawing a blush from Miles and giggles from Trucy and Kay, before returning to his seat. "Couldn't be better."

Miles' blush doesn't let up as he turns to the girls. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," says Kay, beaming.

Despite the choking sound Miles makes and his clear embarrassment, his smile is irrepressible and lighter than any Phoenix has ever seen on his face before, and the tips of his ears are going scarlet and it's adorable. Phoenix wants so badly to kiss him again.

He would, however, prefer to kiss him in the comfort and privacy of his own home. "So," he says. "Everyone ready to go?"

The four of them bundle back into the car. He does not hold Miles' hand over the console - Miles' unsafe driving only extends to speeding, not physical impairment, and never with Trucy in the car - but Phoenix can't stop looking at him as he drives. He's always liked watching the way the street lights and the darkness flicker across and behind Miles and bring out the shapes and lines of his face, and now it feels like he's allowed to watch. At red lights, Miles looks back with a lovely smile.

In the back, the girls are whispering and he's briefly worried that it's about him and Miles, but when his straining to hear only picks up their young lighting designer's name, he breathes a sigh of relief and tosses a, "Don't think I don't see you always hanging around the tech booth during warmups," over his shoulder as a minor turnabout for earlier.

"Th-that's different," Trucy splutters. Oh, he was right when he told Maya he thought Trucy had a crush. "That's professional networking-- I'm hiring Carter to redesign and op the lighting for my magic shows after my Penrose season--"

"Local high schooler, operates lights and did a bit of the lighting design," he explains to Miles, who nods. "They seem like a great kid - even if they did sell their gender to the sea witch to get so good at lighting." The surprised laughter from Miles and Kay makes him add, "Hey, I'm not making this up: that's what they told me when I accidentally misgendered them."

They drift back to their own conversations, his and Miles' somehow meandering to Miles bashing his favorite Little Mermaid song he doesn't sing: "And were they supposed to be waltzing in that instrumental section? Because that wasn't a waltz at all."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you knew so much about waltz," he retorts.

It's amazing how Miles still manages to look haughty despite blushing, his gaze more determinedly on the road than it was a second ago. "I'll have you know, von Karma put me and Franziska in ballroom dance lessons so we would be perfect dancers at formal events."

"Bullshit," he says, delighted by his failure of imagination on what this would even look like, right as Kay calls out, "Mr. Wright! What character did Edgeworth play in the SparkleStar Show?"

His train of thought utterly derailed, he has to think for a moment, which isn't easy with Miles letting out a faint "ngohhhhhhh". "TwinkleStar," he says eventually.

"Ooh," says Trucy. "The pink one - like his suit!"

As the girls dissolve into giggles, he watches Miles frown, and can't help a chuckle himself. "What brought this on?"

"You didn't list SparkleStar as a previous role in your bio," says Miles.

"I-- what?" Equal parts gobsmacked and delighted that Miles even remembers their brief time in the SparkleStar Show, he can't help but gawk. "C'mon, that doesn't count."

"Objection," says Miles. "It was a theatrical production, how doesn't it count?"

They bicker good-naturedly about it the rest of the way home, and Phoenix is in a good enough mood to concede on his doorstep, "Fine, if I do another show I'll list it then, but they're not reprinting the Mermaid programs for five more performances. How much money do you think community theatre groups have?"

"Add it to your theatre resumé," Trucy counters, because everyone has ganged up on him.

"I don't have one!"

"I'll send you my template," Trucy says generously, and the banter's worth it for Miles' laugh.

While Trucy brews tea (Phoenix having been declared incompetent at this task by Miles some years ago), he sets about finding vases for their surviving flowers. They have a few for the flowers Trucy gets at her magic shows sometimes, but he still has to supplement them with her prop vases. It's nice having some flowers in this house that are his for a change.

"Who are the roses from?" asks Miles, carefully disinterested.

"Klavier," he says, and Miles' façade of nonchalance shatters into an offended look so hilarious that he wants to kiss him, but the girls are right here so instead he just laughs. "He got some for both me and Truce and claimed he wasn't declaring his love for either of us."

"Those are mine," Trucy says, and Phoenix watches Miles relax. "Daddy gave his to the Mersisters."

"How can he not know that red roses mean love?" Kay asks. "I am going to roast him."

"Aw, I thought it was sweet!" Trucy leans over to give the roses a sniff. "Clueless, but sweet."

There's something about watching Miles with Trucy that Phoenix adores: he's long known that if he were to start dating again, Trucy would come first; anyone he'd have in his life longterm would have to be good with her and vice versa. Despite some awkwardness at the start, Miles met and surpassed that standard long ago, treating Trucy like his own, and he knows Trucy loves him too. His dreams of a family with Miles feel so close tonight he can just about touch them.

The girls take their tea to Trucy's room, chattering about some movie they want to stream - unusual, normally they'd take over the TV in the lounge. When neither Kay nor Miles are looking, Trucy winks at him before disappearing to the hall. Ohhh, they're setting him up. Trucy is getting a bonus on her allowance this week: her Gavinners-induced debt will be a little shorter.

And then Phoenix is alone again with Miles. For a while they talk pleasantly about nothing and drink their tea, Miles likes this flavor, but under the pretense of normality, they're inching closer together, drawn together like a mermaid to a ship, and he wants to take his trident to the growing tension.

"You know, I still can't picture you ballroom dancing," he says into a lull of tea drinking. "The defense would like to request the testimony of an expert witness."

"There's no need to call Franziska," Miles says, rolling his eyes. He does the Miles Edgeworth equivalent of slamming his mug down, which is to say he doesn't put it down with force because Miles would never risk wasting a cup of good tea by splashing it, but he puts it down with the most imperious air. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He sets down his own mug and follows Miles to the relatively clear spot behind the couch where Trucy usually practises her tricks that need bigger props, and takes Miles' offered hand. It's so much like when he'd taken his hand in the theatre foyer earlier this evening that he has to suppress the shiver down his spine.

"No, not so close, step slightly to your left," Miles fusses, and okay, that's a lot less like when Miles had almost kissed him. Once he's in what Miles deems is the right position, Miles lifts their joined hands and puts his other hand on his back, just below his arm.

"Put your left hand on my shoulder," says Miles.

"Oh," he realizes, doing so. "I'm doing this backwards."

Miles smirks, and it occurs to him that though this expression is very familiar to him, he's never seen it from this close before. He kind of wants to kiss that smirk off his face, but he also kind of wants to see the whitest person he knows dancing. "What, did you think I'd let you lead after you learned from your show?"

"Trucy told you, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did," says Miles, unrepentant. "Now, what your choreographer failed to take into account was that the basic waltz step is a box step in two Ls, not merely side to side. Like so."

Miles steps forward, urging him back, then quicker to the side, and then they bring their feet together. They repeat the step in reverse, making the box Miles had mentioned, and then make the box a few more times. Eventually, Miles starts to add some up and down movement to the step as well. He's a good lead, Phoenix realizes: he's never danced follower himself, there were never enough guys in his shows or drama classes in high school or college for that, but from dancing with girls who complained about other guys leading badly and complimented him on his leading, he understands it's a big deal. He can feel which foot to use and how far to step without Miles having to tell him and without having to look at his feet, just from the smallest touch in Miles' hold or shift in his weight.

Huh. Maybe Alan Menken was onto something about the communicative powers of dance after all.

"You've got the hang of it," Miles declares eventually.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he says. "I just learned a whole show in six weeks."

"A small role where you stood still for all your songs and the closest you came to dancing was lifting your arm twice," Miles points out. "How was I to know whether you could dance?"

"Objection! I lifted my arm super in time. Plus I had to coordinate both lifts with switching which hand my trident was in!"

Miles' mouth is twitching with the effort of holding back a smile as he rolls his eyes, which Phoenix counts as a victory. "Stop looking at me, look to your left."

"What if I like looking at you?" slips out of his mouth unbidden, too honest to be written off as a joke, and both their resulting blushes have Phoenix scrambling to belatedly obey.

Miles clears his throat. "I-in any case, moving a waltz step around the room would have still worked with the song."

And Miles sweeps him around his own lounge, so steadily that despite spending most of the arc walking backwards, Phoenix doesn't feel the need to check they won't bump into anything, trusting Miles to steer him right. He always does, after all.

Oh, he wants to do this forever. It doesn't even have to be waltzing, as much as he thrills at every point of contact, just... being silly with Miles, at home, seeing a side of him no one else gets to. It's hardly the first time he's had this thought, it occurs to him during even routine hangouts like tamales at the Prosecutors' Office or Wonder Bar night dinners, but this is the first time forever has felt so tantalizingly in reach.

They come to a stop just behind the couch, and finally look at each other again. There are uncharted waters in the gray of Miles' eyes. Phoenix is ready to dive in.

"That was..." Miles' gaze falls to Phoenix's mouth, and Phoenix's breath catches in his throat. "Passable," he finishes, but the softness of his voice betrays the mild insult, and when he looks Phoenix in the eye, this time it's with clear intent.

Phoenix is hit with a question he should have asked while they were still drinking. "Miles - Miles," he repeats, because Miles is using the hand on his back to pull him closer and Phoenix is only so strong. "I wanna - we should talk - sit?"

Despite that inarticulate invitation, Miles follows him back to the couch, but sits so close to him that their thighs are pressed together and Phoenix has to make a heroic effort to ignore it.

"Maybe this is way too fast considering we only just kissed tonight, but I need to know," he says. "What do you want here? You don't just - have a merman fetish or--"

Miles wheezes with laughter, through which he can make out a faint objection. "Consider the evidence, Wright," he says eventually, his voice so much fonder than when he says this in court. "As handsome as you looked as Triton, I kissed you - and would like to kiss you again - even while dressed like a human. My interest in you pre-dates your casting in The Little Mermaid by several years."

"Oh," Phoenix breathes, giddy. "Same here. Not that you're a merman, but - I've been interested in you for years. Why didn't you say anything?"

The smile on Miles' face melts from amusement to something rueful. "You're my closest friend. I didn't want to risk our friendship if it turned out you didn't feel the same way, or if you did return my feelings but didn't want to act on them. I've never known you to date."

"Miles, my life was a mess for years: I wasn't about to bring someone new into that," he points out. "Even before that, I never had the best track record with relationships. Then once I finally figured my shit out, well... You were the only one I was interested in, and - I've never known you to date either. I didn't think you'd go for it."

Tentatively, Miles moves his hand to Phoenix's cheek, his thumb stroking his cheekbone. "I've never wanted anything more."

"Wow," he blurts out. How did he get so lucky? "Oh, wow, I love you."

And then what he just said catches up with him. He opens his mouth to say something like you don't have to say it back or that was too intense too soon, sorry, but Miles lights up and surges forward to kiss him, and he gets the feeling he doesn't need to worry about it. It's all too easy to melt into his kiss, nowhere near the tentative test of the waters in the restaurant, now as thorough and insistent as an argument in court, Miles holding his face steady as he kisses his self-doubt away.

When at last they need to part for air, Miles rests his forehead against his and says, "I love you too," in a tone so affectionate it brooks no argument. "To confirm: what I want is you, as my partner, in all of life, not just in court."

"Yes, please," he says, and he finds himself laughing in sheer delight. "Partners. Oh, Trucy's going to be thrilled."

"As will Kay, I imagine," says Miles. He draws back, his smile fading. "Although I'd rather not, ah, announce it to the world just yet."

"We don't have to," Phoenix agrees. Though the girls already saw them kiss, Miles is a pretty private person even before getting into the reputational risk of the perceived conflict of interest. "The kids don't need to know. If anyone else besides the girls I was thinking my parents, and Maya. And obviously any clients you're prosecuting."

"I'll need to update my conflict of interest register," says Miles, and then, almost as an afterthought, "And tell Franziska and Uncle Eddie."

"Just as long as Franziska doesn't whip me to unconsciousness when she finds out."

"I think I can prevent that."

He chuckles, and Miles along with him, and he's not sure who moves first but then they're kissing again, but more languid this time, because they're partners and they have all the time in the world. He can take the time to test out and catalogue what Miles likes, to listen to the hitch in Miles' breath at a hint of teeth on his bottom lip, to feel Miles' hand tighten on his arm at a certain slide of his tongue against his, to realize that Miles is doing the same thing with him. Though they didn't drink that much at dinner, on account of work tomorrow and Miles driving, Phoenix feels drunk on how sweet this kiss is. It's not perfect, of course. Their teeth klack together a couple of times. The last person to kiss him before Miles, before today, was a very long time ago: he can admit he's rusty. But god, he could do this all night. He could do this forever.

Miles' fingers run up into his hair, and then Miles breaks the kiss to shudder, yanking his hands away. "Your hair products," he grumbles, by way of explanation.

"My hair was very obviously still blue and wavy at dinner," Phoenix points out. "Do you need a new lens prescription?"

Miles pointedly ignores the jab at his deteriorating eyesight. "Why didn't you wash your hair at the theatre?"

"I usually wash it out at home in the comfort of my own shower! Besides, I didn't want to keep you and the girls waiting."

With a petulant huff, Miles removes his glasses and sets them beside the tea mugs, and Phoenix realizes giddily this means Miles thinks they'll be at this for a while.

"Actually, speaking of comfort..." He hopes the pitch drop in his voice comes out as sultry as he's aiming: "My bedroom has a locking door."

It must work, because Miles' eyes widen, and then he's hauling Phoenix to his feet along with him. The only reason they make it into his room with all their clothes on is because Phoenix, half-paranoid that Trucy and/or Kay will choose this moment to step outside Trucy's room, keeps a firm handle on both Miles' hands, as much to stop his own hands from wandering as Miles'. He has to let go to lock his door, and the second he turns around, Miles crowds him against the door, his gaze as hungry as it is slightly out of focus.

"Oh," he says, his smile slowly widening. "Hello."

"Hi," Miles says against his jaw, before he presses a kiss there instead, and trails his mouth down, to his neck, to focus his lips and tongue where he'd first touched him in the theatre, and Phoenix arches.

"Miles... oh, god..." His fingers tighten in Miles' hair with a warning, but Miles just makes an amused sound into his skin and starts to unbutton his shirt. "I'm shirtless onstage in three days."

"If your makeup artist is worth her pay, she can cover up any marks."

"Do you understand the concept of community theatre? No one gets paid: that is exactly the reason I'm playing Triton in the first place." Miles swipes his tongue over the same spot, and he finds himself saying, "You can do anything you want after next Saturday."

Miles looks up at him with a predatory smile. "I want that in writing."

"Of course you do," he says, and Miles laughs, brushing their noses together, making him laugh in turn. God, it's fun to laugh while making out, especially with Miles who has such a nice and tragically underused laugh. "C'mon--"

He backs Miles towards his bed and feels pretty accomplished for managing to get Miles' sweater off him, evening out the number of layers they're each wearing. Miles trips and falls backwards onto the bed, and Phoenix starts laughing again at the look of surprise on his face, before Miles rallies and tugs him down with him. He takes this as an opportunity to straddle Miles' lap and Miles grunts like it's been punched out of him when the motion presses their groins together. How is he supposed to resist rolling his hips again? Miles' answering groaned swearing is incredibly gratifying for someone usually so formal and he needs to hear more.

As Miles isn't a mindreader, Phoenix instead finds himself kissed hard, Miles' hands returning to his earlier work of removing his shirt. Once it's off, Miles withdraws from the kiss to stare at his body long enough that Phoenix starts to feel a little self conscious.

"Did I leave some body paint on?"

"No," says Miles, hands cupping his pecs to brush his thumbs over his nipples and oh it's his turn to moan now. "I... I can't believe all those people got to see you shirtless before I did."

"Miles Edgeworth, jealous," Phoenix says in delighted awe. With an embarrassed huff, Miles maneuvers them so he's on his back, Miles caging him in with his arms, and while he probably should have expected his strength from the way he'd so easily tossed around the Steel Samurai spear all those years ago, he'd definitely never expected it to be used on him. God, that's hot. He's certainly imagined Miles taking the lead but maybe not this frequently on their first time. (And there have been a lot of ways he's imagined their first time.) "Jealous and feisty!"

"I have wanted you for years," Miles confesses, looking at him, to Phoenix's surprise, steadily, and Phoenix can't breathe for a second, overwhelmed once more by the shock of having his long desire reciprocated. "Now that I can actually have you, I..." He falters, lost for words.

"Yeah," Phoenix says, reaching up to cup Miles' cheek. He knows the feeling. "Yeah, me too."

All those years of repressed passion make it into their kiss, putting into motion what neither of them could put into words. It's so intense that it doesn't take long before their hands start wandering, Phoenix finally making a blind start on Miles' shirt, but before he can remove it, Miles' hands reach his pants, thumbs hooking into the waistband, and Phoenix has to withdraw from the kiss to breathe.

"May I?"

How is a two word consent check like lightning down his spine? Phoenix nods fervently, but has to admit, "I don't, uh. I don't have any-- I wasn't expecting--"

"Nor was I," says Miles, his smile so honest and reassuring. "It's alright, Phoenix."

"Well, of course it's all Wright--"

Miles swallows his stupid joke with a kiss, but he's still smiling against his lips, so he knows the humor landed whether Miles wanted it to or not, and then he stops thinking for a while, because making Miles feel good and showing him how he feels about him become just about the only things that matter in the world. He loses track of where their clothes end up, of how far the makeup wipes they use to clean up land from the trash can (it turns out having the love of your life draped over you makes throwing difficult), of time, until he hears Kay say, a little too conspicuously for someone in another room, "Well, I'm sure Gramps won't want us to stay too late on a school night," and both he and Miles sit bolt upright from their cuddling, jolted out of the afterglow. His room smells like sex. They smell like sex.

"Oh my god," he blurts out, getting out of bed, at the same time as Miles yelps, "Pess!"

"Pess," he echoes in despair. "Oh my god, Pess. Kay - you need to shower before she gets in your car--"

While Miles hunts for his clothes, he grabs his one bathrobe (a birthday present from Miles one year after Phoenix spent half a trip to Berlin rhapsodizing about how cozy the one in his hotel room was and contemplating stealing it) and throws it at him.

"Phoenix," he thinks Miles says beneath the robe, before he uncovers his face. "What--"

"Miles! Need I remind you that my bathroom is right next door to Trucy's room?!"

"Nngh," Miles protests, and he hastily bundles himself into the robe before stumbling out to the bathroom, clothes in his arms.

Left to his own devices, Phoenix checks the time and swears because yes, it is late and Trucy has school tomorrow and the rest of them have work. Nothing for it but to throw some deodorant on with his clothes, tug at his hair, and step into the hall. He's hoping that his knock on Trucy's door and, "Girls, it's getting late, it's probably about time Kay and Miles get going," sound more convincing than they do to his own ears.

Trucy appears first with raised eyebrows he refuses to answer, then Kay over her head with, "Oh, I'm ready to go when Edgeworth is!"

"He'll be ready in a moment," he says, hurrying them out to the lounge. He makes a noble effort to buy time by asking about what they watched ("Daddy, I couldn't believe Kay's never seen KPop Demon Hunters") before he hears Miles' footsteps in the hallway.

"Where are my glasses--"

"What are these doing here?" Kay sings out, picking them up from the coffee table.

Hair still damp, face scarlet, Miles hurries forth to snatch them from her. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Miles," he cuts in, before Kay can so much as open her mouth again. "Kay. Thanks again for everything today - coming to the show, dinner, hanging out."

Thankfully, Trucy picks up on his cue. "I'm so glad you liked the show!"

Seemingly having recovered, Miles manages a genuine smile. "You both did admirably. I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight."

"It was fun!" Kay agrees. She and Trucy hug, then she turns to Phoenix to hug him too. "Night, Wrights."

"Good night, Kay," he says, hugging her back, and then he turns to Miles, who's just letting go of Trucy. He's fairly certain he's matching the twinkle in Miles' eye. "Night, Miles - I love you."

"I love you too," Miles says, before Phoenix claims his mouth in a fleeting kiss more fit for in front of their girls, but no less loving.

Miles is still smiling when he pulls away and leaves with Kay, and Phoenix is pretty sure he's smiling too - in fact, he's no longer sure he knows how to stop.

Even Trucy asking, "What was that?" with a smile a little too knowing doesn't deter him.

"That was your father saying good night to his partner," he says, with all the dignity he can muster, which isn't a lot. He's too giddy for silly things like dignity.

She squeals in delight. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

His smile widens at that; he can't help it. "Thanks, baby," he says. "I never really thought it would happen - pinch me."

Mr. Hat emerges to poke him before disappearing again, which is close enough.

"It did happen," she concludes, and she gives him a smile of her own that he recognizes too late as her faux innocence. "But I hope you weren't so surprised you forgot the important things."

"Like what?" he asks suspiciously.

"Like, were you safe?"

Ah, that's how to stop smiling. He can feel himself going crimson. "No no no no, this was bad enough when I gave you the talk," he complains. "You don't get a turnabout on this!"

Her grin goes a little too shit-eating, so much so that he's sure she somehow got this smile from him. "Yeah, but your parents thought you were straight, so I'm sure they missed this out. Did you use--"

"I plead the Fifth!" he declares, and definitely does not run to shut himself into the bathroom for a shower of his own, her laughter echoing down the hall after him.

After putting his pajamas on, he heads back out to the lounge to wash the tea mugs he's pretty sure he and Miles didn't finish (and there's a wild thought, that he is perhaps the one thing in the world that can get between Miles and a good tea) only to find they, along with Trucy and Kay's mugs, are already in the drying rack, and only Trucy herself is left in the lounge, reading a book.

He drops a kiss on her head. "Good night, baby. Thanks for doing the dishes."

"Thanks for moving to your room," she says, a touch of that shit-eating smile coming back. "Kay and I were going to get refills, but we saw you two making out on the couch."

He lets out a long groan of embarrassment, and Trucy laughs through telling him good night.