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[teaserving]

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[jurisprudence]

She's friendly, but she's a longhair breed, so there's always the chance of some shedding. I have a roller, however, if she...

[...a man has come over to drink wine and spend time with him in his apartment in the evening and he's talking about lint rollers. fuck. fuck.]

...Well. There's.

[...]

I made puttanesca. Badly, I think.

[teaserving]

It's fine. [Abbacchio smiles crookedly.] Dogs shed, you can't do anything about that.

[please for the love of god let him touch your dog]

Well, if you're hungry, I promise I can make us something edible.

[jurisprudence]

The, ah. Roommate felt the same way. I'm not much of a hand in the kitchen, but he showed me how to — made me, really — work up a few things. Mostly I think he was just perpetually disgusted with the state of my pantry.

[He pauses a minute, then flashes a wry smile of his own.]

As I said. Italian.

[teaserving]

Classic Italian.

[Too bad he was an ASSHOLE. Not that Abbacchio is that much less of one, but still--

Anyway.]

Look. I'm gonna assume control of your kitchen and put something together. Have some wine and we can-- I don't know. We can just talk.

[jurisprudence]

...That sounds nice, actually. I'll find some glasses and —

[AND WAIT BECAUSE AT PRECISELY THAT MOMENT IN THROUGH THE DOOR PADS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD.

She pauses only for the barest moment, like she wasn't expecting a stranger to be in her house alongside her owner, but then quickly shrugs it off and trots over to sit primly in front of Abbacchio and hold up a paw for a shake.

The little show-off.]

Ah, there she is. Hello, Pess, good girl.

[teaserving]

Ha! Look at who's so well trained.

[Abbacchio doesn't even hesitate. Kneeling down, he takes her paw for a shake.]

What a pretty girl. Look at you. I bet you're spoiled rotten, huh?

[jurisprudence]

Unfortunately, yes. Though she's too prim to beg for scraps, thankfully; she knows she'll always get her treat if she's patient enough.

[Agreeably, Pess lets her paw be held and bobbed up and down, licking her snout in a look of unmistakable approval while Edgeworth reaches down and absently scratches behind her ears.]

If she gets underfoot, just ask her to move. She's curious, but she'll behave.

[teaserving]

I've learned to walk around wrestling, screaming teenagers. A dog's not gonna be a problem. I guarantee she's better trained than them anyway.

[It's very clear in Abbacchio's face that he is already completely charmed by her. He holds up his hand to let her sniff before he goes to tend to the kitchen. He is, however, kind enough to pop open his bottle of wine for Edgeworth get into.]

And hey, at least you have reasonable company still. Pess will take care of you.

[jurisprudence]

Teach her to make whatever you're preparing, and then we'll see.

[He follows Abbacchio in, with Pess trailing close behind, and moves easily to a cabinet to bring down two wineglasses and fill them once the bottle is uncorked. One he leaves near the sink, out of the way of Abbacchio's prep area but close enough that he can shift and reach for it, and takes the bottle back with him as he goes to sit at the table.

Pess, naturally, shoves her head into his lap the instant he's seated. His precious.]

...I lied about the thing you all had in common, as I'm sure you've guessed. My colleague isn't Italian.

[teaserving]

When she gets thumbs, I'll do it right away.

[Anyhow! He does get to work on making something more edible. Maybe just another round of puttanesca, but like not shitty. It's pretty easy, but maybe it's the Italian blood.]

Yeah, I didn't think so. [He has a sip of wine.] You gonna tell me what the common factor is?

[jurisprudence]

[Hmm. Hmm, hmm, hmm. Maybe he better have a sip of this wine, first. And really, anyway, what could it hurt? It's not like he has a lengthy, decorated career here, or a reputation to uphold, or an adoptive parent who gaslit him for fifteen years whose standards he's supposed to live up to.

Hah. How liberating.]

I rather liked all of you. Well — like, in your case. Present tense, for you.

[teaserving]

[Liked. Well, from most anyone else, that would be a pretty vague thing, wouldn't it? But Edgeworth is the kind of guy who has a hard time expressing something that personal, he bets. Which... yeah, Abbacchio gets that in his own way. It's in part why he brought the wine.

The smell of tomatoes and pasta wafts in the air as he works, pausing to drink from his glass.]

...Look, believe it or not, but I get how you feel. On a few levels. For awhile, I thought maybe there was something wrong with me too. Something like I was cursed or some shit, and I couldn't afford to be close to anyone.

In your case, it's just bad luck. I hate to put it that way, but there's nothing about you that would have caused them to vanish.

[jurisprudence]

Because something would happen, and it would be your fault. Even if it wasn't you directly. Even if logically someone else was more culpable. It's still your fault. Somehow. "You did this," you'd think, and on some level you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't shake the sense that it felt right.

[He rotates his wrist slowly, spinning the wine in his glass.]

It's most egregious in the case of my colleague. I've abandoned him with no warning so many times, and now I have the audacity to be upset that he's done it once to me.

[teaserving]

You may have set up the domino pieces, but what really nudged them to fall? Kind of like that. Trust me, it's hard to shake off.

[He thinks about it all the time.

Abbacchio goes quiet for a moment, working on dishing up the two of them before he's approaching with two plates.]

Think you'd treat him any differently if you saw him again around here?

[jurisprudence]

[He thinks that over a minute, then huffs a soft laugh.]

No, likely not. I ought to. But I'd forget myself, I expect. Fall into the old patterns instead of maintaining new ones.

[He thinks another minute.]

There was a night I should have kissed him, about a year ago. I didn't. Likely it's for the best, but it's a mistake I should have made.

[teaserving]

[There's a snort from Abbacchio as he drinks his wine. He relates too hard on that, which is why he made his confession to Bruno. It didn't amount to anything, but at least he said something just in case the worst had come to pass. Bruno never owed him anything, and it wasn't the time to think about it either. So, yeah.]

You feel like you lost your chance?

[jurisprudence]

I wouldn't say I lost the chance. More that I lost the...opportune moment. There was a distinct "right time", and I let it go past.

[Strangely, the more he overshares (by his personal definition of oversharing, at least), the easier it seems to get to overshare. What a luxury it is to just talk to someone without obsessing over reputation and ramification and ulterior motive.]

He saved my life. I was at the most wretched I'd ever been, and he believed in me when no one else did, including myself. One doesn't get much more of a moment than that.

[teaserving]

[Somehow, it's this part that sinks in the most. Abbacchio looks into his wine, thinking about how it reflects to his own past. He saved my life. I was at the most wretched I'd ever been. All of it speaks to him, and he gets it.]

There's a man who did something similar for me. I fucked up hard, and I was ready to just die alone somewhere. A shitty apartment, alleyway, whatever. I didn't care. But he saw something in me that I didn't think I still had.

It's hard to not fall hard for a savior like that. If there's anything I learned, though, you gotta make the most of the moments you have.

[jurisprudence]

Ah. That's why you won't go back to law enforcement.

[He draws his conclusion with a half-nod, settling back in his chair and stretching his legs out mostly so that Pess can lie down beneath the lean-to tent they make between his seat and the floor.]

...Though I'll confess that if the plan is to delve into our previous mistakes, however, I'm likely going to need something stronger than just this wine.

[teaserving]

Something like that.

[That earns a bark of laughter and he finishes his glass swiftly.]

Well, I didn't plan on anything stronger, so unless you got something you wanna share we're shit out of luck.

[jurisprudence]

I'd really rather not. Merely an observation of the road we were threatening to go down.

[Although...maybe. It's already an unprecedented night. Who knows where conversation might take them.]

What happened with you and your savior?

[teaserving]

Damn, and here I hoped you'd have something stronger. Whatever, guess that's what bars are for.

[He scoffs at the question, leaning his chin into his hand before settling his weight against the table.]

Nothing. I told him how I felt because I didn't want to lose the chance. But that's about it. Granted, we weren't in a great position for him to decide to do anything, but... he also doesn't owe me anything.

[No. It's the other way around. He'll always owe Bruno everything.]

[jurisprudence]

I never said I didn't, only that I'd rather not. The narrow cabinet to the left of the stove.

[He motions in that direction vaguely with one hand, keeping his still partially-filled wine glass in the other.]

Well, at least you acted. There's something to be said for that.

[teaserving]

Well now, that's awfully generous of you.

[And he gets up for that cabinet. Hell yeah.]

Eh, I suppose. It was more than I thought I'd ever do. I kinda just expect that I don't have much luck in that department.

[Suffice it to say, his love life has rarely ever been a successful one.]

[jurisprudence]

[There isn't much variety, but never let it be said that Edgeworth doesn't buy the good stuff. Tucked away neatly in the cabinet are a bottle of the brandy he favors, and a smaller one of spiced rum. No sense in having more than that on hand, really — he lives alone, after all.]

I gather you're not altogether interested in more casual affairs. You're the sort to commit to one person, completely and utterly?