[RL 4: Chicken Soup for the Prosecutor's Soul - Phoenix, Edgeworth, Zelos]

[samuraiprosecutor]

He had given in, eventually; perhaps easier than he would have done under normal circumstances. It had been obvious none of the parties were about to yield and, more and more, his body seemed to be protesting the very thought of moving. So, as the ache sang through him and mingled with the pounding in his head to reach a crescendo, he accepted his fate.

Almost four in the morning and he was waiting for a fool of an attorney to bring him chicken noodle soup. He would laugh at the thought, but he knew even that simple act would prove painful.

Sigi had been closed up in the back bathroom, temporarily, though the dog had given him a look that would have been reproachful on a human face. Miles had also made a valiant effort to change into something suitable, but had been forced to settle for a long robe tied tightly over his pajamas. A quick once-over of the living room (he didn't plan on letting Wright get any further than that) before he unlocked the door, then retreated to his office to continue his work.

Within fifteen minutes he was asleep on his keyboard.