Chapter Text
Franziska woke, incredibly, with only a light hangover. Sun had just started to creep into the room, but despite the tension in her head, she felt like she could probably fall back asleep. Sleep in, even. She sat up slightly to take a sip of the water and the headache pills she’d left on her bedside, and found that she’d even managed to plug her phone in. She added clubbing to the long list of things she was good at and checked the time. It was about five in the morning. Plenty of time to sneak Maya out, if Miles got up at six forty-five as usual.
Wait.
She rolled over, the memory of the previous night returning to her in piecemeal, stomach-jolting chunks, and found Maya curled up with her head on the other pillow. She stirred and scrunched her nose as Franziska lowered herself back down, and Franziska held her breath until she settled again. Right. Yes. Right.
Now that she was sober, she had a lot more questions for herself, mostly in the vein of what were you thinking catching feelings you’re leaving in two days you foolish fool. But she couldn’t manage much venom, not with the sun and the warmth and the gentle sense of languor pervading her limbs. No, what would have been self-castigation was now just a gentle sort of apprehension, of worry. Maya’s makeup had smudged badly, her lipstick absolutely gone, and Franziska was sure she looked similarly disastrous. She made a small mental note to sneak the pillowcases into the laundry when Miles wasn’t looking, reset her alarm for six thirty, and then carefully eased herself a little closer to Maya. She couldn't have said why she was nervous, except that after a lifetime of enforcing her will on others it was a little scary to attempt something that required someone else to choose her. Well, not scary. Von Karmas… usually didn't feel fear.
But then Maya stretched and yawned, and threw an arm across her shoulders in a bad approximation of a pickup line. “Hey, baby, you come here often?” she mumbled in a cheesy frat boy voice, still clearly asleep, and Franziska discovered a smile on her lips despite the twist in her stomach. Because this wasn't some fully unknown quantity, some vague idea of what might become a relationship. It was Maya, after all.
And now that she thought about it, dozing off once more, she could set aside the worry about leaving too. After all, as the Chief Prosecutor had helpfully pointed out, she had six months of vacation time stored up.
***
Miles woke to early morning sunlight, not quite done with a full night’s sleep. He stretched, ready to roll back over and fall back asleep, when his arm brushed another. Oh. Ohhhh, right. He cracked an eye and found Phoenix beside him, his hair spiked in about every possible direction and his face crushed into the pillow. He took that in for a long moment, remembering the events of the previous night slowly and sleepily. For some reason, it didn’t shock him into alertness. It didn’t shock him at all.
Really, he was a fool for not realizing sooner.
But maybe he would let that slide. He’d spent plenty of time telling Franziska that mistakes were okay, after all.
Phoenix dragged in a truly impressive snore, then settled back down with a grumble. It was suddenly occurring to Miles that he had never let himself stare at him before. He wouldn’t have realized it for what it was, would have chastised himself for being weird for no reason. How had he not realized that Phoenix was the exception to the rule, the only person who made him make those mistakes? No, not mistakes. Made him… act normally, for a person having feelings for someone else. So he let himself stare now, at Phoenix’s long eyelashes and funny eyebrows and half-open, threatening-to-drool-on-his linens mouth, and let himself luxuriate for a moment in the fresh memory of kissing the lattermost. Fine lines in his forehead showed what Miles could feel with all that wine in his head, that they weren’t quite so young as they once were, but perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps it was time to settle a little. Perhaps he would let Phoenix strong-arm and Maya badger him into a therapist’s office. Perhaps he would sign the lease.
So he readjusted into a more comfortable position, and was about to let himself fall back asleep when he felt an arm across his back, another sleepy mumble, and then Phoenix pulled him in against him. It was warm and smelled of Irish Spring and how the hell had he mistook that for cologne, the man was wearing a rental suit for god’s sake, they were going to have to have some conversations, but even so Miles wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this safe before. Sleep rose to overtake him again, but he managed to shift his head to Phoenix’s chest before he went back under.
***
Franziska’s alarm was going off. “Ughhhhgotolecturewithoutme…” she heard Maya grumble as Franziska started awake, then whine in protest when Franziska started to extricate herself from her grasp. Finally, that seemed to wake her up; she opened her eyes with a frown, stared at Franziska for a few seconds—confirming Franziska’s worst fears about the state of her eyeliner—then smiled painfully. “Heyyyy…”
“Hi,” Franziska said, already searching in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor for her UCLA hoodie. It was comfortable, okay? “We need to sneak you out.”
Maya dropped her hands from her eyes and opened them wide. “Shit. Did Mr. Edgeworth not go home with Nick?”
“One, gross,” Franziska hissed. “Two, I don’t know. But you have to stay here till I find out. Is your phone charged?”
Maya nodded and slid slowly out of bed, recovering it from the floor. “I turned it off. It’s at… thirty percent.”
“Perfect.” Franziska jammed her own phone in the waistband of her pajama shorts, and started toward the door. Then she paused, and looked back. “Um. If we both live through this, let’s, um, get coffee later today.”
Maya gave her a thumbs-up, eyes squeezed shut. “Pretend I’m smiling. And not hungover.”
Franziska gave her a thumbs-up in return, took a deep breath, and left the room.
***
Miles thought he heard an alarm going off somewhere in the house. Which was odd, given that it was Sunday and he usually let himself sleep in on weekends. It was six thirty according to his alarm clock, which was odd too—normally he got up later than that.
But Franziska didn’t.
He was out of bed as soon as he realized, throwing his housecoat on and shaking Phoenix awake. “Wake up, Wright, you need to go.”
“What’s up, Playboy mansion?” Phoenix mumbled, cracking an eye open, and Miles glanced down at his dressing gown, offended, before Phoenix actually woke up properly. “Oh. Oh. Hey! Sorry, force of habit. What’s up?”
He struggled upright, and Miles was treated to both the distracting sight of his bare chest and the unfortunate evidence of every bruise he was going to have to make sure Phoenix hid for a good, long while. “Franziska,” he said shortly, and pressed his ear to the door. “You’re going to have to sneak out.”
Phoenix groaned softly, and let himself fall back into bed. “Or we could just stay for a bit,” he wheedled. “Wait till she goes out.”
Miles gave him a withering look. “Where would she be going, exactly? It’s not like she has groceries to pick up.”
Phoenix thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Maya! I’ll text her and get her to invite Franziska out to something.”
“You can do that and be discreet about why you need it?” Miles asked, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, no problem.” He got out of bed, recovered his pants, and pulled them on while texting skillessly with one thumb. Then he looked up at Miles. “Um. Should we… maybe discuss what it is we’re being discreet about?”
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Yes, they definitely ought to, and he could even tell that he ought to offer some reassurance about everything he’d said to Phoenix the previous night. But one thing at a time, and the Franziska issue had a time limit. “Yes. Let’s… your place. Later. I’ll text you.”
“You mean the place I told you we should have gone in the first place?” Phoenix said with a grin, seemingly unable to resist being extremely annoying.
Miles threw his shirt at his face, and stormed out the door.
***
They arrived on the landing at the same instant, and both jumped a mile.
***
Miles recovered first. “Um. Nice,” he waved a hand in front of his face, attempting to indicate Franziska’s makeup.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “It, um, looked better before I slept on it, I’m sure.”
Ah, yes—that made more sense than her hitting a late goth phase. He nodded awkwardly, finding belatedly that he had a death grip on the doorhandle. He let it go and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Um, breakfast?”
“Please.” She still looked uncomfortable. “I ought to put something in my stomach to sop up my victory in the shots competition.”
“Congratulations,” he said, and took an extremely normal step toward the stairs. He studiously avoided looking back at his bedroom door.
***
PW: Maya I need a favor. I need you to ask Franziska out to coffee or something, like right now.
MF: what why?
PW: nvcxmvxbcvcxnm,v please
***
He was suspicious. Unquestionably. Franziska sat bolt upright at the kitchen table, watching as Miles made tea, glancing back at her every few seconds when he thought she wasn’t looking. She swallowed, feeling her phone vibrate, and surreptitiously checked it.
MF: [screenshot.jpg]
MF: SUS AF what does this mean
FvK: I don’t know
MF: is edgeworth here?
FvK: Yes. I’ll try and figure out if he’s going anywhere. Try to get him to leave.
MF: what if u distract him and i sneak out
FvK: DO NOT. Last resort.
“Who are you texting?”
“No one!” Franziska nearly threw her phone. “I mean, the Chief Prosecutor. About, um, my caseload.”
***
There was no way she had any idea, right? Miles set down Franziska’s mug in front of her, and she picked it up, taking a long, slow sip and eyeing him over the rim the entire time. She couldn’t know. She was probably just tired and hungover. He was a bit of both himself. He took a sip of his tea. “Has she started sending you new cases already?” he tried.
“I don’t want to think about it yet,” she said sharply. “I’m still on vacation.”
“Good for you,” he said, sensing an opening. “So what does vacation for today entail?”
“I… am going to get coffee with Maya Fey.”
Miles nearly choked on his tea—how had Phoenix managed to get that to happen that quickly? “Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said carefully. “Probably better breakfast at a coffee shop than here.”
“Oh, it’s… later.”
“Oh.”
“What are your plans? Going out? Going to get Pess?”
Yes—but not with Phoenix in the house. “Eventually. I’m sure Gumshoe is having a good time looking after her.”
***
“Could be feeding her all kinds of human food, though,” Franziska tried. She had to get him out of the house, and unfortunately the best way to do that was through psychological warfare.
***
“He wouldn’t dare,” Miles said, more to reassure himself than to convince Franziska. He took a decisive sip of tea to quell the worry, and scanned her over for another opening. His tolerance for friendly sibling chitchat was higher than hers, marginally—maybe he could ask her about her night and embarrass her into leaving. She did look pretty rough, so there were a number of targets: her frizzy hair, the blurry makeup, a nasty-looking bruise on the right side of her throat. “What happened to your neck?”
***
Franziska clapped a hand to her throat. “…whip accident,” she said, sounding the most suspicious she’d ever sounded in her life.
***
“Whip accident?”
“It’s not as easy as I make it look,” she snapped.
Oh, good, maybe there was a story that she wouldn’t want to tell—she seemed irritated enough. “Do tell. Did you get in a bar fight?”
***
Franziska was not good at lying. She could manage it if there was truth at the center, but this was wholesale fabrication. “Maya had a roommate—the one I mentioned not liking…?” Maybe she could leave it there—steer the conversation back to worrying Miles over his chores or his dog or something…
***
Miles raised his eyebrows. “Go on.” Come on, storm out, storm out…
***
It wasn’t that Maya didn’t think Franziska could get her out of this—but she was going to help however she could. And yes, Franziska had told her to stay put, but she had also said she could try to sneak as a last resort. Maya could be sneaky—she’d managed to wriggle out of several murder attempts at this point, hadn’t she? She’d pressed her ear to the door and heard the two of them talking somewhere distant. Probably in the kitchen, which was around the corner from the stairs, so if she was just quiet she could make it to the door. Yes. Okay. She gathered up all her stuff, carrying her sandals to keep her footsteps quiet, and eased the bedroom door open. The landing was empty, and she’d been right about the voices in the kitchen. She turned, closed the door behind her, and backed toward the stairs, texting Franziska. I’m going for it don’t worry just keep talki—
***
Phoenix had been pacing for several minutes at this point, closing and opening his phone and waiting for a reply from Maya. At this point he kind of doubted she was going to take the bait, which meant Franziska wouldn’t be leaving any time soon, which meant Miles was pretty much stuck down there talking to her. But he’d been here a couple times to feed Pess—they were probably in the kitchen, even though he couldn’t hear them. And view of the front door was blocked from there, wasn’t it?
And if Miles was coming over later, Phoenix needed every minute he could get to clean.
He was going for it. It would be fine! Worst case, he’d get caught at the door and pretend he was just showing up for something, and make Miles play along. A perfectly good bluff. He shoved his phone into his pocket, tucked his jacket under his arm, and slipped through the door, pausing to shut it behind him. Had it squeaked? He held his hands up to placate whatever sounds it might decide to make next, and took a careful step back.
***
Franziska’s struggle to make up a story that cast her in an incompetent light was blessedly cut short by a pair of surprised shouts, the sound of a pair of sandals clattering down the stairs, and then two voices yelling “Hold it!” at the same instant. She looked back from the sudden noise at Miles, who looked just as startled, but met her eyes at the same moment. And then they both started up from the table.
Unfortunately Franziska had left her whip somewhere upstairs, so it was a much more evenly matched race-slash-wrestle toward the sound of the commotion. She managed to punch Maya’s shoes out of Miles’s hand, at least, though he did have her other arm pinned behind her back. But it was a useless gesture anyway, because Maya was standing on the landing.
Yelling at Phoenix Wright.
Oh, god.
“Wait it worked? I can't believe it worked—well, I can, but not that well— !”
“What are you talking abou—oh my god. Maya, you absolute—”
“Absolute genius, you mean!”
“I’m gonna die. I’m going to die. Why are you even—wait… did you—?”
“Nuh-uh, Nick, we're talking about you right now—”
“No—no, no, you didn’t have that hickey on Friday—”
“T-takes one to know one!” Maya, perhaps sensing that she was in danger of becoming the victim of a turnabout, started edging toward the stairs, evidently not having noticed the pair of them standing at the bottom. Franziska could practically see the accusation on Wright’s tongue, his arm starting the backswing for a dramatic point. Maya started backing up faster, turned to look where she was going, saw Franziska with her arm still pinned behind her back and her elbow aimed threateningly at her brother’s stomach, and froze.
“May I ask,” Miles said measuredly, “what the fuck all you people are doing in my house?”
Maya looked like she wanted to die. “Damn, Edgeworth, language,” Phoenix muttered absently, glancing around for windows to jump out of.
Franziska took that opportunity to kick Miles’s leg out from under him and bolt, throwing Maya her shoes and diving for the front door. “Bye Miles lovely visit I’m going to the airport see you in a year—”
She got Maya out the door, but Miles caught her wrist and hauled her back before she could follow. “My dear, beloved sister,” he said, looking extremely pained, “would you care to explain to me why the entirety of Wright and Co. Law Offices is here right now?”
She swallowed, raised herself up a bit taller, and gave him her best glare. “I should think you’re to blame for half of that, little brother.” She shot Phoenix a dirty look over his shoulder as insurance. Wouldn’t be fair for her to have to argue with both of them.
The corner of Miles’s mouth twitched upward into something between a grimace and a grin. He, as she would have done, took the offensive. “Whip accident?”
“There’s about to be one, you—!”
The rest of the interview was conducted in profanity laden German.
***
“Do you think they’re going to stop soon?” Maya had ventured carefully back into the entryway, but over the course of the next few unintelligible minutes she had taken up a lean against the wall opposite where Phoenix was tying his shoes.
He shushed her. “I’m trying to listen. My German’s not good enough to follow this.”
She raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Since when do you know German?”
He looked back at her dryly. “Why, do you need a teacher?”
She let her eyebrows fall again. “Touche.” She watched with some interest as Franziska slapped the kitchen table, causing the mugs to jump and Edgeworth to keep the one near him from tipping without even looking down. “Which one of them is winning?”
Phoenix tilted his head for a second, then shook it ruefully. “They’re both losing.”
Maya stifled a snicker, and extended a hand. “I’m assuming you had a good night before this point?”
“I’m supposed to be discreet.” The grin playing about his mouth was anything but. “Did you?”
“I’d like to keep my head on my shoulders,” she replied with a wince, then whispered, “but yes.”
Phoenix pulled himself to his feet, and smiled. “I demand an explanation of what exactly you two have been plotting about later, but I had too much wine last night and you look like you did too.”
“Tequila.” Maya managed a grin. “And I suppose, seeing as I’ve been doubly successful this weekend, I can share the secrets of my technique with you.”
“Ominous.” He opened his mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a spike in volume from the ongoing argument in the background.
“—and I’ll say it in English so even your foolish little mind can comprehend it, if you breathe a word of this to that fool of a detective I will call your friend Larry so fast you won’t even be able to get a word in before he’s planning your wedding—”
“You’re bluffing. Why the hell would you have his number?”
“Because his ability to tell when women are categorically uninterested in him is nonexistent and he has a death wish. See? See? Right here, Miles! Mutually assured destruc—oh, you fucking—”
He’d made a swipe at stealing her phone, and now they were slap-fighting again. Phoenix raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Maya. “Gotta say, this is… unexpected.”
“It’s the Cain instinct. You only-child types don’t get it,” Maya said dismissively, and got to her feet. “C’mon, I’ll swipe you onto the train.”
There was a resounding whip-crack as they opened the front door again, but Maya kept steering Phoenix toward the sidewalk. “Okay, this time I am unquestionably bleeding. Look, Franziska—my face! I need that! I should have let the TSA take that stupid—oh, god, I’ll be maimed for life—”
She smiled, and dragged Phoenix on even as he protested and tried to go back. Taking a dive was a time honored tradition among younger siblings—she’d used it on Mia plenty—but the key was that a referee had to be around to dole out punishment. And she could at least try to help Franziska win.
***
“Hello?”
“Hi. Um. I’m downstairs.”
“Oh, yes, okay!”
“Did you—I, um, brought Pess. I came right here from Gumshoe’s. She needs a walk—I’m certain that man was giving her people food and—”
“Yes! Perfect! I’m not desperately trying to vacuum at all! One second, I’ll be right down.”
“No rush.”
“You’re early, though, you know—if you wanted you could have dropped Pess off. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Yes, well, I… will go home later.”
“Oh, no… she didn’t—”
“Shut up, Wright, it’s the path of least resistance—”
“She won so badly you had to leave?”
“Just because I decided I’m done arguing with Franziska does not mean I will extend you the same mercy.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. On my way down.”
Miles hung up the phone, and squinted away down the sun-drenched block until Pess started barking and straining at the leash. “Hey girl!” Phoenix said with a laugh, kneeling down to scratch her under the chin. He got back to his feet with difficulty. “And, hey. Um, sorry about this morning…”
“Well, I hadn’t exactly anticipated the fact that Ms. Fey would—ugh…” Every time he thought about it it got worse. “Anyway. Here.” He held up his phone.
“Four pm appointment monday Doctor—oh!”
“And this,” he said quickly, swiping to the signed lease before Phoenix could say anything about it. “September to September.”
“Wow.” Phoenix looked up, his eyes suspiciously bright. He coughed. “I mean, I knew I was hot but I didn’t think I was that —”
“You know I prosecuted a case once where the victim had been strangled with a dog leash great inspiration really—”
“Sorry.” He was still smiling, though he hunched his shoulders contritely. “I’m… glad to see that. Both of them.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure there was a promise somewhere in everything I said last night.” He waved the sentence away before Phoenix could look at it too closely, feeling his cheeks burning. “Anyway. Where’s good to walk?”
“Nowhere in August at noon,” Phoenix joked, attempting to fan the oppressive air into a breeze. “How does the froyo place across from the park down the street sound for a destination?”
“I can’t remember the last time I had froyo.”
“Is that a no?”
“Decidedly not.” He waved Phoenix permission to lead on, and clicked his tongue to Pess, who was lying on the sidewalk panting. “Do they make dog-friendly froyo, do you think?”
“Weren’t you just complaining about Gumshoe feeding her human food?”
“Yes, because the man has no willpower and won’t cut her off! Whereas I am a good dog own—” He raised his hand to gesture his displeasure, but was interrupted by the fact that his hand brushed Phoenix’s on the way up. Which now felt a hell of a lot more significant, and would Phoenix expect him to do something with that? It had all felt a lot easier last night—and also a lot more out of control. He swallowed, feeling Phoenix’s eyes on him. He dared a glance back. “Er—”
Phoenix was a bit pink too. “No, yeah, um—”
He folded his hand into his pocket. “Sorry. Or, not that I don’t, um, but—” He looked around, and found that there was no one else braving the midday heat, but, still… He shook his head. “Great to know I can only be normal about this kind of thing three drinks deep.”
“It’s okay.” He glanced up, and found Phoenix looking very serious. “No pressure. On anything. I mean it.”
“Just… mmph. Give me a little time to… as you’ve pointed out plenty of times, I am perhaps a touch resistant to change.”
“I don’t mind.” They crossed the street into the shade, and Phoenix smiled as Pess immediately cut across his path to sniff along the base of a fence. He took the leash for Miles as she hooked back around his legs. “We can take it—whatever it is—slow.”
So they let Pess nose her way along, and they took it slow.
***
“So text me when you land, and then I want to see your apartment sometime this week, and I’ll let you know about Kurain for the holidays, and here’s the playlist I made you, which has—”
Miles entered the terminal to find that Franziska and Maya had already made it there and were engaged in what seemed a very busy farewell. He’d been reduced to the role of porter, now. Unbelievable. He watched for a few moments as Maya scrolled through something on Franziska’s phone and Franziska watched, eyes narrowed, like it was some important piece of evidence being presented, then stepped forward and joined them. “I may have scratched it a few times,” he announced, passing the suitcase’s handle over to her.
“Yes, well, we all make mistakes, and you more than most,” she said absently, tapping something on her phone and then putting it in her pocket. Finally she looked up, and nodded curtly. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“ Flight 661, to Munich, departing from Gate 24A…”
They all three looked up, then back down at each other. Miles coughed and turned away, giving the pair of them the time to finish up their goodbye, and looked up a hair too quickly in time to see Franziska pull down her mask and give Maya a kiss on the cheek. She said something too low for him to hear, and Maya smiled. “Me too. Have a good flight!”
“Would you like a ride, Ms. Fey?” he offered. Not that he particularly wanted to face the deeply uncomfortable prospect of a half hour ride with his sister’s girlfriend back to the city without the distraction of Steel Samurai, but it was the polite thing to offer.
“Nope! I’ll take the train back!” She didn’t seem uncomfortable at all; she only rubbed her hands together with a grin. “I’ve got an order waiting at the campus Noodle Stop.”
“Till Thursday, then.”
“Mmm. And you know, I’ve been right about so much lately, I may as well be right about the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate…” She put in her headphones before he could protest, and strolled off with her head held high.
“What was that supposed to mean?” he said out of the side of his mouth to Franziska, watching Maya go.
“I say this a lot,” she replied, a long-suffering weariness in her voice, “but you are truly the most foolish fool I know.”
He turned to face her and raised an eyebrow. “Not Wright?”
“You’re in stiff competition. But right now, you’re winning.”
“Well, then, you’ve achieved your goal, haven’t you? I’m winning at something against him.” The whole convoluted mess of it had come out in piecemeal, put together from Phoenix’s bribery lunch with Maya on Monday and the literal contract Miles and Franziska had had to draw up to ensure that neither of them would use the newly-obtained personal information against the other. It was kind of sweet in its own ridiculous, embarrassing way, but Miles had a feeling that he was going to be stuck on the ridiculous and embarrassing portion for a long while yet.
“You’re hopeless,” she informed him, then folded an arm across her body. “Well. I, er, appreciate you for allowing me to stay with you. If you ever find yourself in Germany, the manor is of course open to you—as is my flat in the city.”
“Thank you.” A return to the fallback of formality, and he wasn’t exactly upset about it either. It had been… nice to have Franziska around, even though she had upended his life pretty thoroughly. Best to lean on pleasantries to avoid thinking too hard about… feelings. For now. “I think I’ll be in LA for a while, now, but perhaps if I get sent on a mandatory vacation as well—”
“You may bring the fool, too, if that’s what it takes,” she said with a sigh. “Do not be a stranger, Miles Edgeworth.”
“I… I won’t.”
“Good,” she said imperiously. And then, it seemed they both ran out of pleasantries and runway, and stood for a moment, frozen.
“Handshake?” she tried, at the same moment he said, “hug?”
“Oh, god, sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, too much on my part, I’m—”
“No, no—” And then she lurched forward, awkwardly, and his arms were in the wrong place and god, they were both so… But she stuck it out, so he did too, and for a moment they were somewhere else, long ago and far away, when a sibling was a comfort instead of competition. Or maybe that was now. Or maybe, with a few more visits, it could be.
She released him, gave a fierce nod, and then turned on her well polished heel. “Auf Wiedersehen, little brother.”
“Safe travels, Schwesterchen,” he replied. Quietly. He was hoping to get out of here without saying goodbye to her whip as well.
It was a hundred degrees in the parking lot. Miles watched a plane or two leave without him, and then he got in the car. Put the top down, the eurobeat CD on, and the pedal to the floor. It was Tuesday night, after all. He didn’t want to keep Phoenix waiting.