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One of Every Color	By : Croik Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 5688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / Gyakuten Saiban, its
characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here
without permission.� This fic is rated
NC-17 for adult male/male content and some violent material.� C&C welcome and appreciated.

One of Every Color
Chapter 4
Tuesday
September 17^th, 2019.�
6:17 pm

Miles stared at the two
guests that had appeared at his front door with mixed fascination and
bewilderment.� On the right was Phoenix, dressed in casual jeans and a T-shirt and carrying a
cheap six pack; on the left was Larry, in white jeans and a pastel blue,
button-down shirt with a heart logo on the pocket, offering a wide, purple
pastry box.� Miles glanced between the
two of them blankly, but was unsuccessful in reaching any explanation.� So he asked.�
"What are you doing here?"

Phoenix shot his companion a sharp look, which explained a
little.� Larry chuckled and
shrugged.� "I said I was coming
over, didn't I?� To help with Pess!"

"I told you I bought Pess
a dog run," Miles reminded.�
"You didn't say anything about coming over."

"Yeah, well, we're here
now," Larry reasoned.� "You
gonna make us stand out here in the cold?"

September in L.A. was by no means "cold" but Miles sighed,
and gave in.� "All right.� Come in."� He stepped back and waved for them to come
inside.

"Thanks, man."

"Sorry about dropping
in," Phoenix said as Miles closed the door behind them.� He shot another look at Larry.� "I was told you were expecting us."

Miles shook his head--he knew
very well what Larry was like, and it didn't do any good to make a big deal
about it.� He led them down the front
hall and into the kitchen.� "It's
all right.� Now that you're here I guess
I could use the help."�

As they reached the main room
of the house Larry gave an appreciative whistle.� The interior of Miles' house had been
entirely redone since Larry would have seen it last, during the initial move
in.� There were new hardwood floors, a
simple arrangement of pale modern furniture, and a fully refurnished
kitchen.� "Not as pink as I
imagined," Larry complimented.�
"It's actually rather tasteful."

Miles would have replied, but
Larry's whistle alerted his small housemate, and a short, tan figure darted out
of the downstairs bedroom and headed right for Phoenix.� It must have
caught Phoenix off guard, as he jumped and gave a rather ungraceful
"eep" of surprise when a pair of soft paws pressed against his leg.

"I don't think you've
met."� Miles watched in amusement as
the red Shiba Inu licked
happily at Phoenix's fingers.� "My
dog, Pess."

Larry set his box on the
kitchen table and crouched down, drawing Pess' attention away from Phoenix with a happy petting.�
"Strange name for a dog," he commented.� "Friendly little thing, though."

Getting over his surprise, Phoenix seemed to quickly warm up to the animal as well.� He lowered his hand and got a licked
greeting.� "It's hard to believe
you've had him all this time, but no one knew about it until a few weeks
ago," he said.� "How old is he
now?"

"Almost eight years
old.� And plenty of people knew about
him."� Miles retrieved a long leash
off a hook by the back door.� "Just
not you."

"It's not my fault you
never mentioned him�."

Miles gave the leash a shake,
and Pess turned immediately, trotting over to his master.� He sat obediently while Miles fastened the
latch.� "So are you two going to
help or what?"

The back yard of the
Edgeworth house was narrow, but deep, with neighbors close on either side.� It was the most space Pess had ever had to
run about in, after living in Miles' downtown condo as a puppy, and then in France.� As well
trained as he was, the open space was too tempting not to explore, leading to
more than one trip to a neighbor's to pick up the wandering Pess in the past
few weeks.� With a decent sized tree on
either end of the property Miles figured a dog run would be the most convenient
and accommodating solution.

Predictably enough, Miles and
Phoenix ended up stringing the wire between the trees while
Larry lent his help to keeping Pess busy.�
Although Miles could have easily done the work himself, he found early
on that he was grateful for the assistance.�
Having company over gave life to the house it hadn't seen in years.� As he secured his end of the wire, listening
to Larry chase Pess around the yard, he was reminded of another such visit Phoenix and Larry had paid him years ago.� He still remembered the pleased look on his
father's face when the boys invited themselves in and insisted on seeing all of
Miles' favorite action figures.

Things aren't like they were back then, Miles contemplated as he finished his side and moved
to see how Phoenix was doing.� But it's not so bad, having them around.

"I always wanted a
dog," Phoenix remarked as he finished his side as well.� Miles handed him the last piece that needed
to be set up--the leash that would attach the horizontal wire to Pess' collar,
enabling him to run freely up and down the lawn without scampering off to visit
everyone in the neighborhood.� "But
we lived in a small apartment, and my mom said it wouldn't be fair to coop one
up with us."� He smiled faintly as
he snapped the clasp into place.� "I
hear they have one now, though."

It was the first time since
they were kids that Phoenix had mentioned his parents to Miles.� "Where are they now?"

"Up north.� I don't see them that much.� Hey, Larry!" he abruptly called, making
Miles wonder if he was escaping the topic.�
"Bring him over, we're all done!"

Larry led Pess over, and they
swapped his leash for the newly-fastened one.�
Pess didn't seem to understand what the fuss was about, and just sat
down on his haunches, watching them with his head tilted.� When it didn't look like he was about to test
the new system out, Miles shrugged.�
"He'll get used to it."

The three moved back to the
house, sitting down on the wooden deck to enjoy the offerings Miles' guests had
brought.� It turned out that the
"leftovers" Larry had brought with him were from his job at a small
downtown bakery, and when Miles and Phoenix peered inside they exchanged looks of disbelief.

"They're cupcakes,"
Miles said, not quite sure how to respond.�
Inside the box, a dozen vanilla cupcakes were lined up, each topped with
strawberry icing and various colored sprinkles.

"We had a birthday
order, and ended up making too many," Larry explained.� "They're your favorite color!"

"You asked me to bring
beer," Phoenix said.� Despite
knowing Larry better than his host, he looked just as baffled.� "I thought you were bringing pizza or
chips or something to go with it."

"What's wrong with beer
and cupcakes�?"

And thus the three old
friends sat, side by side on Miles' newly finished wooden deck, eating pink
sprinkled cupcakes and drinking Phoenix's cheap beer, while Pess finally went about trying
out his new leash apparatus.� Miles drew
an inordinate amount of attention in simply accepting the offered
beverage.� But beer was still beer, and
considering how ridiculous their chosen refreshments already were it didn't
seem worth it to be picky about brand.

"You've really done a
great job with the place," Phoenix complimented.� Miles
hadn't thought of him as a drinker, but he seemed to be doing just fine.� "New paint, new deck, new furniture--you
must have spent a lot."

"Yes, but it was worth
it."� Miles watched as Pess sniffed
up and down the lawn, testing the limits of his new leash.� "I didn't realize until I came back how
much this city feels like home.� Despite
its flaws."

Miles felt eyes on him, and
he glanced up to find Phoenix and Larry both staring at him.� "What?"

"Nothing, nothing,"
Larry said quickly.� "It's just kind
of funny to hear you talk like that."

"It's a good
thing," Phoenix added.� He was
smiling in a thin, sheepish kind of way that seemed designed to elicit
curiosity.� "You've changed a lot in
the last three years, you know."

"Have I?"� Miles frowned.� Of course he had.� He liked to believe that, having freed
himself from von Karma's influence those three years ago, he had since learned
to examine his own character with a certain degree of objectivity.� It didn't occur to him often anymore to
reminisce, but when he did, he became startlingly aware of the transformation
gradually applied to his behavior and opinions.�
It wasn't as easy to determine how his acquaintances perceived those
changes that had taken place, but it seemed, if nothing else, he had become
more pleasant company.� At least, that
was what Gumshoe had once remarked to him.

"I have," Miles
answered his own question.� "Not
horrendously, I hope."

Larry chuckled, and slapped
him heartily on the back.� He jumped at
the unexpected contact.� "Phoenix is right--it's a good thing!� You used to be such a stiff.� Now if we could just get you a girl, you'd be
downright tolerable."

Miles rolled his eyes, and in
his effort to escape Larry's teasing caught a glance of Phoenix's suddenly uncomfortable face.� It wasn't until then that he remembered the
events of the night before.� He felt a
trace of guilt over the whole affair, however unwarranted--he had said nothing
to Ayame she hadn't decided on herself.�
It was still none of his business.

But those changes of demeanor
he had just been reflecting on proved themselves as a swell of curiosity came
over him.� "Not all of us can be as
'lucky' with women as you, Larry," he stated deliberately.� "Isn't that true, Wright?"

Phoenix's eyes thinned at the edges, giving his sheepish
smile from earlier a wary undertone.�
"Well�."

"Huh?� What about Nick?"� Larry leaned forward so he could get a look
at him around Miles, who was seated between them.� "Ah man, you didn't screw it up with
Ayame, did you?"

"It's not like
that," Phoenix quickly defended himself.� He gulped down the remainder of his beer and
was quick to grab for another.� "She
doesn't like the city, and�long distance doesn't work for me.� That's all."

Miles watched him, suspecting
there was more to the story, but it didn't look as if Phoenix was about to continue.� "That's too bad," he said.

"It's a downright
shame," Larry muttered incredulously.�
"Giving up a hottie like that."

Phoenix snorted.�
"Well excuse me for getting dumped by a 'hottie'!"� His face was flushed, though probably not
from the beer.�

Looks like we've pushed some buttons, Miles observed.�
He recalled that he'd managed to get Phoenix to speak his mind before, without even meaning
to.� It was part of his job to get
answers out of people.� But he also had a
feeling Phoenix wouldn't open up entirely with Larry present to poke
fun at him for it.� Maybe it's best to let it be.

Pess came trotting up to them
then, his ears up and steps light.� The
extent of his new leash allowed him only within a few feet of the deck, and
when he realized he couldn't reach his master, he sat down with another
head-tilted stare.� Pess was too old now
for them to be considered "puppy eyes" but they did the trick.

Miles smiled, and pushed to
his feet.� "Well, Pess?� How do you like it?"

Pess stood, tail wagging as
his master set his beer down and approached.�
When Miles was almost next to him Pess suddenly turned, and bolted down
the length of the yard.� It soon became
clear that he'd left to retrieve a toy, as he was soon running back with a
length of multi-colored rope in his mouth.

*****

Phoenix watched, somewhat irritated that Miles had dragged
him into an unwanted conversation and was now bailing out.� When dog and master engaged in a tug of war
with the rope, though, it was hard to stay annoyed with him.�� For all that he had seen the changes come
over his old friend it was still strange to see sometimes, and still so
different from the face he displayed in court.�

"Hey."� Larry reminded his friend that he was present
by nudging him with his elbow.� He had
scooted closer now that Miles wasn't in between them.� "I really am sorry, man," he offered.� "You know--about getting dumped.� I've been there."

He smirked dryly, and clinked
their beer cans together.� Phoenix sighed, nodding to show he appreciated the
sympathy.� It was the most sincerity he
expected out of Larry, though he soon realized he had offered even less when
Larry survived another romantic beating.�
Larry always had a new story about a girl that had walked out on him, or
even a job he'd been fired from.� It
ought to have made Phoenix feel his own troubles weren't so awful.

Whether or not it did, Phoenix would wait until after the beer was gone to
decide.� "It's all right.� I guess I didn't really think it would work
out anyway.� I'm just glad she's home and
doing well."

"Spoken like a true
jilted boyfriend," Larry chuckled.�
"Keep telling yourself that."

"Why?" Miles
interrupted suddenly.� He was still
wrestling with Pess for the colored rope just a few feet away.� For a smaller dog, Pess was putting up quite
a resistance.� "Why didn't you think
it would work?"

"Well�I don't
know."� Phoenix shrugged helplessly.�
If I'd really wanted it to work,
he told himself, not for the first or even second time, I would have fought harder to keep her.� "I guess I'm just used to people coming
in and out of my life."

Miles' eyes thinned slightly,
watching him, and Phoenix imagined--with the help of his alcohol--that he could
feel thick, steely fingers pressing into his shoulder once more.� He was saved from saying more by a sudden
jerk by Pess that almost toppled Miles over, causing him to divert his
attention.�

"It's all right,
Nicky," Larry said brightly, dispelling whatever serious air that might
have passed between them.� "You've
still got us."

"Yeah."� Phoenix smiled.�
"I know."

Larry managed to do the
tactful thing then, changing the topic entirely.� It became quickly apparent that the reason
for his instigating their meeting in the first place was so that he would have
an audience for his tales of work-related woe.�
Phoenix listened, albeit only partially, while Miles made no
pretense of attention at all as he continued his tug-game with Pess.�

Phoenix had finished his second beer by the time Larry concluded
his harrowing tale of the tipped sprinkle bin.�
The sun had set a few minutes earlier and it was starting to get a bit
chilly.� Not that Phoenix felt like moving.�
With the slight buzz from his alcohol he felt perfectly at ease, out in
the fresh air with pleasant company to spend the evening with.� He couldn't imagine how he hadn't thought of
this himself.

"Hey."� Larry nudged him, and Phoenix worried briefly that he was about to launch into some
inane story and ruin his lazy mood.� But
he only pointed ahead of them.�
"Haven't seen that in a
while, have ya?"

Phoenix followed the indication with his eyes.� Miles and Pess had moved a few feet off
during Larry's retellings, where they continued to battle hands against jaws
for the prized toy.� Clad in simple khaki
pants and pale blue polo shirt, Miles appeared more casual and at ease than Phoenix had seen him in some time.� He was grinning, openly and with sincerity,
and when Pess managed to break the rope from his grasp he laughed as he tumbled
onto his hip in the grass.� Seeing his
master on the ground Pess abandoned the rope-toy to instead attack Miles with
enthusiastic licks to the face.

It was ridiculously
heartwarming.

�"I thought he'd forgotten how to do
that," Phoenix said quietly, smiling to himself.� He felt an appreciation akin to pride rise
from his stomach, as if taking personal satisfaction from his friend's
character growth.� He knew Miles had
changed but he hadn't seen him laugh outright since they were children.

Larry pushed to his feet with
a yawn.� "I guess I'd better get
going," he said loudly, brushing off his pants.� "You guys can keep the cupcakes."

Phoenix rolled his eyes.�
"We're honored."

"Having fun?" Larry
asked as he passed Miles, who had been pushed onto his side.� He laughed, and when Pess looked back at him
curiously Larry gave him a pet.

"Are you
leaving?"� Miles sat up.� He must have realized what he looked like
just then, as he took a moment to straighten his clothing and hair.� "You shouldn't be driving if you've been
drinking."

Larry made a face.� "Two beers isn't enough to get me
drunk," he assured.� "Besides,
I took the moped."

Miles frowned after
him--driving a car or a moped should not have mattered.� But he didn't question again.� "Have a safe trip home."

"Seeya, Larry!" Phoenix called from the step.

"Later!"� Larry rounded the side of the house and
disappeared.� As Miles finally stood,
heading back toward the deck, they heard the rumble of his moped starting up,
and soon it was a quiet hum heading down the street.

When it was clear that the
gaming had ended, Pess scooped up his rope once more, and lay down in the grass
to begin gnawing his toy instead.� Miles
continued forward to rejoin Phoenix.� "So, he left the cupcakes."

Phoenix stretched out his legs in front of him, leaning back
on his hands.� "Yeah.� Lucky us, huh?"

"If you say so."

Miles turned to sit down, but
when he did so his foot slipped a little in the grass.� Instead of sitting down on the step, as he
had intended, he missed the edge and landed on the lawn just in front of
it.� His poor footing and miscalculation
ended him closer to Phoenix than he had intended; his left upper arm was pressed
against Phoenix's thigh.�

There they paused, caught in
that awkward moment strangers sometimes share when they find themselves sharing
unexpected body contact.� There was the
predictable tension, each waiting to see which would move and by how much.� All this calculation of personal space took
place within a few bare seconds, and then Miles settled, seemingly content not
to correct his stumble.

Phoenix frowned; leaning back as he had been, he now had a
decent view of the back of Miles' head.�
He cleared his throat.� He wasn't
uncomfortable, but it seemed a little odd to him that Miles wouldn't be,
resting so casually together.�
"Um�is there any more beer left?"

"You already drank your
share," Miles reminded him.� He
passed over what should have been his second can anyway.� "I didn't figure you for a
drinker."

"It's not like I'm a
drunk," Phoenix protested as he accepted.� He popped it open but didn't drink right
away, made self-conscious by the remark.�
"It's just something to do in the evening."

Miles tilted his head up
slightly, and reached for the box Larry had left behind to get himself another
cupcake.� "Sounds like you're used
to spending the evening alone," he noted.

Phoenix shifted on his palms, still watching the back of
Miles' uncommonly gray hair.� He felt
sometimes that it was remarkably easy to speak with Miles, though he wasn't
sure why; it wasn't as if the prosecutor's demeanor was especially friendly or
welcoming in a conventional way.� He was
unsympathetic, and short, and sometimes just plain rude, and yet that didn't
deter Phoenix.� Maybe it was
just that there were things in his mind now he wanted to say, and Miles was
merely the closest to a serious friend he had around at present.

�"I guess I am," Phoenix admitted in a lower tone.� "I know a lot of people, I just�never
think to call them, you know?"� He
lifted his beer, contemplating it a moment before taking a sip.� "Maybe I take for granted that someone
will call me."

"You shouldn't take
anything for granted," Miles advised knowingly.� "Especially people you care about."

"I know."� Phoenix's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.� He
probably knows even more about that than me.� The old
Prosecutor Edgeworth didn't seem to have any more friends than I do.� "But you know, I've never had that many
friends.� Even as a kid all I had was you
and Larry.� And then you left�and Larry
and I split up for college�"� He
sighed, coming to the point that had really begged to be discussed.� "That's probably why I held on to Ayame
as tightly as I did," he reflected.�
"She was all I had."

Miles didn't respond except
for a quiet hum.� But Phoenix could feel Miles' arm shift against his leg when he
breathed, and just having that--a simple, human connection--was enough to
reassure him.� He still couldn't see
Miles' face, but he could see the muscles along his jaw and neck contract as he
ate what Phoenix assumed was his cupcake.� Usually Miles was bundled up in his cravat or
some other high-necked attire, rendering such observations impossible.

What a strange thing to notice.� Phoenix continued to watch.�
"What about you?� Have you ever been in love?"

Miles flinched, making a
slight choking noise against his dessert.�
"Me?"� He shook his
head--Phoenix leaned forward a little, very curious as to his
response.� "I don't think so."

"Don't 'think' so?"
Phoenix chuckled.

"I've had lovers, of
course," he elaborated.� "But
that's not the same thing.� So, no, I
don't think so."

It was kind of a vague
answer, but Phoenix found himself more amused by it than anything.� He tried to imagine Miles on a date, holding
doors open for his chosen lady, sending her roses and chocolates and all those
other ridiculously romantic gestures�that Phoenix himself had once been fond of.� But every time his imagination turned to Miles
being fed up and irritated, and some girl running off in tears.� Poor
Edgeworth.

"So?"� He nudged Miles with his knee, smirking to himself.� "You've
had 'lovers'.� How many?"

"That's not--"

"Come on, Edgeworth, how many?" Phoenix persisted, thinking briefly that he must have sounded
like Larry.

Miles sighed, and finally turned
to face his companion with a sly grin.�
"Let's just say I was a lot more popular in college than you
were."

Phoenix burst out laughing, so hard that he almost lost his
balance on his one braced hand; he tipped to his right, nearly into Miles'
lap.� Unable to account for the sudden
humor, except that it was obviously pointed at himself, Miles sputtered
indignantly and shoved him back.�
"What's so funny?� You don't
think I--"

"You�your face," Phoenix gasped, sloshing his beer as he pointed.� He was starting to finally feel the stronger
effects of his drinking, and collapsed onto his back, still laughing.� "Pink�your face, you�"

Miles touched a hand to his
face, and discovered the reason for Phoenix's merriment--a dollop of strawberry frosting on his
nose he must have acquired when an earlier question caused him to jump.� He rolled his eyes in annoyance and wiped it
away.� "You must be drunk to think
that's funny," he chided.

His embarrassment only made Phoenix's mirth more enjoyable.� It wasn't until Miles pushed to his feet that
he finally got himself under control and was able to right himself.� "Sorry, sorry," he stuttered.� "You were just trying so hard to look
'cool,' and then�and that pink�"� Phoenix covered his mouth with more laughter.

Miles' complexion was so
naturally pale that even a slight blush showed with perfect clarity.� He folded his arms irritably.� "Are you finished?"

Phoenix sniggered against the back of his palm.
"Yeah--yeah, I'm done."� He
lifted his hand plaintively.� "Help
me up."

Miles sighed but obeyed,
hoisting Phoenix easily to his feet.�
He even put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, which caused Phoenix to pause.�
Maybe it was his partially intoxicated imagination, but he had the
impression that he'd felt a lot of that hand lately.� He blushed for no reason.� "It's getting late."

"Yeah."� Miles glanced to where the daylight was
finally extinguishing beyond the line of trees.�
"Can you make it home okay?"

"Yeah, sure.� I'm not drunk."� Perhaps not one hundred percent sober, but
certainly not drunk.� Phoenix patted him on the shoulder, wondering if there was
some special meaning in the gesture.�
"You can keep the rest of the cupcakes."

"I'm honored,"
Miles muttered, unintentionally echoing Phoenix's response earlier.

Phoenix took a step back.�
As he glanced around the yard he had to wonder if the events of that
evening had taken place at all.� It
seemed so incomprehensible that he had ended up in Miles Edgeworth's backyard
drinking like old friends.� Which was
what they were, but it was still halfway impossible.� "I had a good time," he said
abruptly.� "Thanks for listening to
my nonsense."� He smiled.� "We should do this again sometime."

Miles rubbed his nose
self-consciously.� "All right.� Call me."

Whether his remark was
alluding to Phoenix's previously confessed apathy or was completely
innocent, Phoenix couldn't tell from his face.� But he took it as the former.� "Okay," he replied, more quietly.� "I will."

At last they parted, Phoenix heading around the side of the house as Larry had
done earlier.� He was feeling light and
rather proud of himself, for no understandable reason.� His dinner of alcohol and sugar would
probably catch up to him eventually but that was the furthest thing from his
mind.� And it wasn't until he was halfway
down the block, when his phone rang, that he even remembered Chassie Gander's
case.

Phoenix stopped on the sidewalk, pursing his lips as he dug
into his pocket of his cell phone.� I was going to tell him.� To just bite the bullet and get it over with.� He forgot to check the number before
answering.� "Yes?"

"Hello�Mr.
Wright."� Urami's slow, gloomy voice
was enough to crumble any remaining euphoria he held after that evening.� "How are you progressing�?"

Phoenix glanced around, as if someone might be around to
overhear.� "Good," he
assured.� "I went to Hotta Clinic,
talked to the witness.� Once I've talked
to Chassie again I'll be ready to file."

"So you've decided to
move forward�?"

Phoenix rubbed his mouth and starting walking again. �I kind
of have to, now that I deposited that check.� "Yes, you convinced me.� She couldn't have done it."� He frowned.�
"But why wasn't the clinic report introduced by her lawyers last
time?� It's a pretty tight alibi."

"Dr. Hotta�has limited
credibility," Urami told him.�
"There's a chance they'll think it was forged."

"But it wasn't,
right?"� Phoenix asked quickly.

"No, of course
not�"

Phoenix sighed.� He
should have known his break wouldn't last for long.� "Good.�
Then don't worry about that, I can handle Edgeworth's accusations."

In retrospect, Phoenix would realize he should have never brought the name
up.� The tone of Urami's voice tipped
slightly, almost curiously.� "About
Prosecutor Edgeworth," she said deliberately.� "I hear you're close�?"

"Close?"� Phoenix almost asked why she would think so, but then he
remembered some of the magazine articles Ema had passed on to him when
Edgeworth first returned to the district.�
The subject of the Prosecutor and Defense Attorney's shared childhood
had caused a bit of a stir when it was first published--thankfully, that had
dropped fairly quickly.� "That's not
really an issue."

"So you won't mind�if
Mr. Edgeworth is picked to prosecute again�?�
He has an impressive record."

Phoenix frowned, and spoke the truth before he could think to
do otherwise.� "I'd rather it not be Edgeworth.� He's tough and chances are he'll take it
personally�."� I should have told him already.�
He's not going to be happy�.� "But I've beaten him before.� I can win this case against any prosecutor
they have."

Urami was silent for several
seconds, and Phoenix was just buzzed enough not to really worry what she
could have been thinking about.� "I
see," she said at last.� "Thank
you, Mr. Wright, for taking this case�.�
I'll leave it in your hands."

"Yeah�sure."� Phoenix was about to say more, but then the dial tone echoed
back at him.� He shrugged, shoved the
phone back into his pocket, and took another sip of his remaining beer as he
continued toward home.
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