Much Obliged, Sir!

Packing, for Detective Gumshoe, basically equated to shoving random knickknacks into boxes (and not many boxes, for that matter.) Though he rarely threw anything away, he also didn’t tend to purchase worthless bric-a-brac like some people tended to accrue. As a result, he was able to have everything wrapped up and duct-taped in cardboard within a few hours. Things were labeled, but not accurately. Boxes he’d meant to stuff with clothing ended up crammed with old books, and boxes for old books were piled high with camping equipment.

The only thing that remained untouched was his bed. He’d have to sleep in it that night, so disassembling it prematurely would only end in him napping on the floor. An old, but trusty, alarm clock was positioned at the head of the bed, dormant until it unleashed its brass fury, 6:00 AM sharp.

Gumshoe sighed. Throwing away the ramen was painful. It was roast chicken, his favorite flavor. Someday, he swore, he would taste its luscious salty broth once more. Until then, uncertainty loomed. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be eating at Edgeworth’s place, considering that basically anything he normally ate would be likely deemed taboo. He pulled out his phone and made a quick call.

“Gumshoe here, Mr. Edgeworth! I just thought I’d let you know that I’ve done precisely as you requested, no disasters! Just let me know what I should do from here, and I’ll have it accomplished ASAP,” he blared merrily. The prospect of a slightly more certain future, once he had some time to adjust, left him in good spirits. “Anything else you require, sir?”

Edgeworth’s voice was a low drone. “Are you quite aware, Detective, that it is nearly two in the morning?”

Turning to face the window, Gumshoe blinked. He hadn’t even noticed the sun setting. He imagined his thoughts must have been elsewhere. +Wh-whoops…+ “S-sorry! I was so busy, I hadn’t even noticed the time! I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. Edgeworth!” Suddenly, Gumshoe realized his plan of action had a distinct flaw: his own bumbling.

“Assuming that nothing catastrophic occurs, I’ll be here early tomorrow. Until then, I suggest you take advantage of the night as the perfect time in which to sleep, a prospect I had been endeavoring to entertain. Goodnight, Detective.” The call ended with a click and a beep. On his end, Edgeworth set his phone back on its receiver, which sat on his nightstand. He desperately hoped nothing else would interfere with what he deemed a worthy night’s rest, and proceeded to bury his face into his down pillows without another thought to the outside world.

Staring down at his phone, Gumshoe swallowed nervously. +I hope I didn’t screw that up too badly. Then again, it’s rather hard to tell with Mr. Edgeworth.+ He turned his face up, looking at the ceiling momentarily. The idea that he might actually be leaving his shoddy habitation was met with both relief and a sort of anxiety. Certainly, moving was always stressful, but the idea of moving -up- made it decidedly less so. He removed his coat and draped it over one of the boxes like a poor ghost costume. Descending to the bed, he set his hands behind his head and fought a strong urge to quote Goodnight Moon.

***

Edgeworth seethed, though silently. The water-stained boxes which marched into his home clashed against the delicately gilded woodwork and other finery that he’d amassed over the years. The boxes were invaders in the land of luxury. Unfortunately, as Edgeworth was the very one who’d welcomed them to his domain, so he couldn’t entirely complain. At least not aloud. The man inside, however, was wailing in dismay. One of the boxes was leaking. He would have inquired further, but no answer could possibly be a welcome one.

“How many more do you need to get from your… residence?” he inquired brusquely, checking the time. He’d taken advantage of his flexible hours to have Gumshoe’s belongings transported and the man himself introduced to the place as soon as possible (without breaking into the most unbearable morning hours) but there was a limit to how far he could warp his workday. He wanted to return that evening to something unsullied by the horrible heap of Gumshoe’s things which was currently piled precisely in the middle of Edgeworth’s living room, but he began to worry if that would be achievable at all. Gumshoe might not have the opportunity to do as Edgeworth desired: fully unpack and, as much as doable, disappear into the woodwork.

Gumshoe grinned proudly. “None! This is everything. I got it all in the car in one go, Mr. Edgeworth!” He put his hands on his hips, feeling prideful of the task’s consummation. “I managed to sell my bed to one of my neighbors who had one that was getting to be in rather sad shape. A good twenty out of the old thing, which wasn’t half bad considerin’ the rush I was in. Anyway, that’s the only thing that isn’t here.” He picked at his chin with the end of a fingernail. “And the food, of course….”

Edgeworth was taken aback. “What?” He took a stroll about the cardboard construct. “I was expecting it would take a few cycles, at the very least.” He brushed his fingers through his silver bangs. +Well, this is a mercy. With this little, I can get him into the side-room, and all his things piled into the extra closet. That should at least keep the space open. I hate for anything to feel cluttered. Order is essential.+ “If that’s the case, carry your things over there,” he said with the gesture, indicating the proper location, “And get them stacked into the area behind the sliding mirror. There should be enough space for your property, with some to spare.”

“Yes, sir!” Gumshoe assented, reaching down to snatch two boxes simultaneously. His fumbling fingers slipped slightly, causing him to take another lunge at the duo of unhelpful containers.

Wincing at Gumshoe’s lack of grace, Edgeworth merely rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose for good measure. “I’ve told you, ‘sir’ is quite unneeded if we’re to survive for an entire month in this setup. Now, then, if that’s everything, then just ensure the place is clean when I return. Also, there’s an additional paper slip on the countertop. Make sure that you slide it behind your car’s windshield when you park, lest it be towed. It verifies that you’re entitled to parking space: number 104, so don’t forget. Besides that, consider the day to be yours, as well as my home. Oh, don’t enter the bedroom; that would be mine.” He turned to leave, flicking his fingers at Gumshoe’s things one last time. “Toss any boxes that you’re finished with. You can get new ones later.”

***

Edgeworth had underestimated Gumshoe’s drive. Yes, Gumshoe could be lax in his dealings outside of work, but as far as he was concerned, doing what Edgeworth ordered still qualified as a profession of sorts. It was only a matter of a few hours until everything was properly tidied. He gathered up the extra boxes, precisely as he had been instructed, and returned them to the trunk of his car.

+Seems like a waste, just tossin’ them away….+ Gumshoe thought, finally shutting the trunk of the car with a satisfying thump. +If nothin’ else, there ought to be someone else who can use ‘em,+ he considered. One name certainly came immediately to mind. Without a moment lost, Gumshoe set off on his crusade.

***

Not long after, Gumshoe burst into the law offices of Phoenix Wright, hefting a series of cardboard boxes, nested in one another like Russian Matryoshka dolls. “Hey, pal! I know how often you’re borrowing stuff off of me, so hey, I thought maybe you could use some cardboard? Never know!” he boomed cheerfully. + With his track record, they’ll end up decisive evidence!+

Phoenix’ coffee spurted out of his mouth in shock. Even when he realized the identity of the intruder, he hadn’t the presence of mind to shut his mouth and stop the dribbling. +Oh no….+

“Detective Gumshoe!” Maya exclaimed with a glee nearly matching Gumshoe’s own. “I didn’t think you’d be up and about so fast. You look like you’re in a really good mood. What’s up?” She wandered over to where Gumshoe was standing, her hands clasped behind her back. “What’s with the boxes? Is there some sort of box festival going on I didn’t hear about?”

Looking down at Maya, Gumshoe laughed. “Nah, no festivals, but a bit of good fortune anyway. I guess I won’t be sleeping on your couch after all, huh pal?” he asked rhetorically, turning his eyes back to Phoenix.

+When did I ever say you could sleep on my couch? -I- sleep on my couch,+ Phoenix thought with a wearied shock. Hot coffee still dripped here and there upon his tie.

“Oh? What happened?” Maya prompted curiously. She hopped up onto her tiptoes, trying to stare into the boxes, in case something interesting might be residing within. Unfortunately, there was really very little of consequence. There was a dead beetle, but she had no desire to investigate it further.

“Mr. Edgeworth said I could wait around at his place until the department gets its ass in gear, looks like. I’ve already got everything of mine stacked up at his place, but he told me to ditch the boxes. It’s a shame, though. I know they’re good boxes; I’ve had ‘em for years!” (At some point, several of the boxes had been nibbled by mice. Apparently, they also thought the boxes were good.) Gumshoe puffed himself with pride. “That’s the real bond between the prosecuting attorneys and the police department, right there! It’s a bond of trust and, uh, and… and service! Not, well, enforced service or anything…. What I mean is, Mr. Edgeworth is a class act for letting me in the door for a while, and I hope he knows I’d do the same if he were in a pinch. It’s all about cooperation.”

Phoenix was glad he was all out of coffee, or he’d have loosed the stuff all over his desk for a second time. “-Miles Edgeworth- is leaving you at his flat with all his things? Is he -mad-?” He coughed, trying to brush down his tie: the sort so cheap that it doesn’t sag when wet, but crinkle. “That’s, er, nothing against you, Detective. You’ve always been an honorable man. I just never really thought of Edgeworth as being the trusting type....” +If it keeps you out of my hair, though, I don’t think I’ll complain….+ “Are you sure he isn’t planning on something slightly less, erm, noble? Like making a tally and charging you later? With interest?” he queried suspiciously.

“Or maybe shanghaiing?” Maya interrupted, “You could be forced to sail the seven seas and trade spices from India until you get eaten by sharks!” She blinked. “I heard it happens. Besides, Gumshoe’s really big. I’ll bet he would make a great pirate. At least, I think he could play one on TV.”

+I think you’re confusing fantasy with reality again,+ Phoenix thought. +Again. Some more. As usual.+

Gumshoe, unfazed by Phoenix’ suspicions, proceeded to set the boxes against the wall to the side, over by a new, framed poster Maya had managed to acquire. “Humph! Mr. Edgeworth would never do something of the sort,” he replied, facing Phoenix again. He grinned in his slightly sly, but mostly dense, fashion. “It’s the whole aristocratic thing, um… chivalry! That’s the word. He’s just doin’ a good deed, pal. Like you’d do, if you were a wealthy prosecutor.”

+I think of I were a wealthy prosecutor, there’d be things on my ‘to do’ list higher than let people squat.+ “Uhm, sure,” Phoenix agreed halfheartedly. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m glad to hear everything has, er, worked out for you so well.” +Edgeworth is going to skin you in your sleep to upholster a chair. I’m sure of it. He hasn’t entirely relinquished his ways.+

“Yeah, definitely,” Maya agreed, crossing her arms securely. “I always thought that Mr. Edgeworth was the chivalrous sort! You know, slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress.”

“I don’t think Detective Gumshoe qualifies as a ‘damsel in distress,’ Maya….” Poor Phoenix Wright would never be able to erase the idea from his mind. The very concept of Gumshoe dressed in pink and frills would haunt him to the end of his days, branded to all of his worst nightmares (including the one about the seven-story-tall Mrs. Oldbag in a two-piece bathing suit.) Endeavoring to change the subject, he managed an earnest, “Thanks for the boxes, Detective. I’m sure if… we need to box things… they’ll be just right.”

“You’re welcome!” Gumshoe grinned, his sense of accomplishment making his features glow. Suddenly, his expression turned slightly more serious. “Say, you were a friend of Mr. Edgeworth, isn’t that right, pal?”

“Er, briefly?”

+Well, that’s more than most people can say, anyway.+ “Can you think of anythin’ I can do for him? Until I get my job back, I don’t exactly have much else to worry about besides getting kicked out. It’s probably only fair that I help him out, but, see, the problem, pal, is… I’m not totally sure what!” Gumshoe broached awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “His place is spotless, and he doesn’t need me to buy anything, since he’d have bought it already.” +Not that I have the money for it, either.+ “I can’t think of a damn thing, pal. You got any ideas?”

Phoenix Wright leaned back in his chair. It squeaked in complaint. +I guess I should have seen that question coming, but I don’t know what to say to it. I mean, really, I’m not in the best position to guess any more. He’s not the person I remember, and now it feels he’s changing all over again.+ “I suppose that you could, er, just dust or something like that?” Phoenix attempted. “Or… varnish things? Cook….” +Wait, this is Gumshoe….+ “Actually, better stick with the dusting and varnishing.”

Gumshoe didn’t seem entirely enthralled at the prospect. “I don’t think he needs it, pal. He’s already got everythin’, and I mean -everythin’-, sorted out over there.”

“What do you get the man who has everything?” Maya mused. +He’s rich, he’s stationed, he’s got a good job, a nice car, a really nice cell phone…+ “You could get him something cute!” she piped. “I’ll bet he doesn’t have many cute things, right?”

“Maya, he probably -eats- cute things,” Phoenix replied, absently dabbing off his suit with a court document. “Besides, now that Van Karma’s gone, I don’t know if Edgeworth has anyone who would even consider visiting his place. He could have the world’s largest collection of Puppy Sparkles-n-Friends figurines and no one would know.”

Downtrodden, Gumshoe realized that perhaps Mr. Wright wouldn’t know much better than anyone else. “Yeah. I mean, I think he had the place just as he liked it,” Gumshoe admitted. “Though I suppose I could try to, uhm, keep it that way as much as possible. I wouldn’t think it’s a full-time job, but maybe it’ll surprise me. Ya’know, I’ve never really had to tend to that much stuff before. Maybe that’s why he’s not too social, if he’s taking care of his things. If I did it for him, maybe it’d free up his schedule?”

“I do recall him liking superballs,” Phoenix tried with a strained expression. Sad Gumshoe was infinitely more unbearable than happy Gumshoe: he radiated piteousness. “Though, considering the age we were, that’s not entirely unexpected.”

“Well, I hope I’m never so boring I don’t like bouncy balls,” Maya commented offhandedly.

“Ooor,” he tried again, noticing that Gumshoe hadn’t perked up at the idea, “You could just ask him what he’d like? I mean, Edgeworth is a very… determined… kind of guy. He’d probably know what he really wanted, right? I mean, he knew he -didn’t- want the boxes. Perhaps he knows what he does want, then? I mean, if you imagine everything in the world, and subtract what you don’t want or can’t have, you end up with, er, a list you could take a shot at?” +I’d tell you to get him a kitten, but I’d feel bad for the kitty.+

Gumshoe tightened his fingers into fists. “No way, pal! I’ve got to think of somethin’ myself. Otherwise, it’s just followin’ orders. I want him to know I’m -really- thinkin’ about what he’s done for me. You know, positive reinforcement!”

“You could give him a little meat biscuit when he does something good?”

“That’s for dogs only, Maya,” Phoenix noted.


(To be continued)