boxolawyers | Schmoozing the nation's elite

Follow up to this thread.

Edgeworth longed for the day when his superiors would see that mandatory attendance at these charity events was entirely unnecessary. It wasn't as if the Prosecutors Office would not put up a showing without being forced to: many of his colleagues reveled in the chance to hobknob with politicians and local celebrities or pick up other people's vapid trophy wives. Edgeworth, on the other hand, would rather be working. In fact, he'd rather be anywhere but here, and he refused to pretend otherwise, regardless of who he spoke to that evening. It would be in the best interests of all concerned for him to be allowed to skip out on these things.

Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed that liberty. So for now he was stuck in a kind of limbo, watching the glitterati from his post on the sidelines and running over details of the work waiting for him at home to keep his mind from stagnating. He was the picture of boredom until a familiar suit suddenly appeared amidst the crowd. His eyes widened with interest, and he discreetly wended his way through the crowd to approach the man from behind.

"Captain Rogers?"

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Indeed, there were several colleagues of Edgeworth's nearby who were discreetly keeping their eyes on the proceedings, wondering over the conversation, even whispering to their companions. The prosecutor was notorious among his co-workers and the city's philanthropic elite for being difficult to draw into conversation and even harder to entertain once he was there. It was almost unheard of for him to initiate such socialization, let alone enjoy it. That he should do so with Captain America, of all people, and actually find his attention returned in equal measure was prime fodder for all sorts of gossip.

The fact that Rogers committed the supposedly cardinal sin of touching him and Edgeworth visibly tensed at the contact but didn't rebuff it certainly didn't help matters.

"...I do what's needed of me," Edgeworth replied, his eyes once again refusing to meet his companion's. He hadn't expected this turnabout, but here he was, suddenly made the target of his own game of laying 'blame' for being a good man on Rogers' head. "That's hardly worthy of praise."

"I could say the same thing," Steve pointed out, his lips twisting wryly. "But you seem to think that what I do is worthy of praise."

He was vaguely becoming aware of people looking at them and talking, but that was so normal for him that he wasn't really paying attention. He didn't know Edgeworth's reputation, really, so he didn't think anything of the fact that they were talking.

"I don't think anyone could argue that you haven't gone well above and beyond what's required of you." In truth, the same could also be said of Edgeworth. His entire life revolved around his work, and he was driven--compelled, even--to work harder and give more of himself to his cause, day in and day out.

Fortunately for him, Rogers had no way of knowing that.

Their surreptitious audience was still beyond Edgeworth's notice. He was too busy wrangling with Rogers' unwelcome positivity to pay much attention to anything else. It was probably for the best--if he had any idea they were being watched so closely he might have felt the need to beat a hasty retreat.

Steve shook his head. "All I've done is try to do what I thought was right. I don't feel like I've gone above and beyond. I went where I needed to go, and I did what I needed to do. I was lucky, that with the serum I could do more than I could with what I was born with."

He suddenly laughed, and raised his hands. "But! I propose a truce. Let's agree that we both respect each other and just be friends, okay?"

"Hmph." Edgeworth shook his head, shrugged, and spread his hands out in an expansive gesture, making the wine slosh in his glass.

"I'm not the type to leap into friendship so easily, Rogers. But I suppose in this case I can concede to a respectful truce." It was better than a loss, at any rate.

Steve snickered. He didn't feel put off by the words - in fact, he didn't believe them at all. Edgeworth might be saying 'truce' but Steve felt that he probably meant 'friend'.

"Fair enough. I'm glad to be in a truce with you, then, Mr. Edgeworth."

"As you should be," Edgeworth said, with a wry smirk. "Few manage to escape defeat at my hands."

"Then thank goodness we're allies," Steve said. People had to be freaking out at how much Steve is laughing, and the way that Edgeworth is smirking. They're clearly having a great time. "Otherwise I'd be in big trouble."

Undoubtedly Edgeworth was making quite a few of the other guests extremely jealous. Rogers may have even been doing the same for a select few who had found themselves rejected or completely ignored by Edgeworth during his years in the Prosecutors Office.

"Fortunately for you, Rogers, we should remain allies as long as you stay on the side of justice." Edgeworth flashed his companion a rakish grin before taking a sip of his wine.

"Fortunately for me, that is what I try to do," Steve said. Though his own lips twisted wryly. "Then again, I don't always seem to stay on the side of the law, though I try to do that, too."

As if a switch was flicked, Edgeworth's entire demeanor changed. His grin fell and his shoulders tensed again. The hand which held his wine glass he drew back and held close against his side. A note of warning entered his shrewd gaze.

"You have found yourself on the wrong side of the law before?"

Steve arched an eyebrow. "Seemed like a lot of people in Congress wanted to arrest me after I took down SHIELD. I guess that means I broke a law, somewhere. I don't think there's really a way that a single group of vigilantes can dismantle an entire arm of government and destroy government-owned property without running afoul of a law or two. But in the end, I suppose they decided that I did more good than harm."

Of course. Edgeworth remembered hearing about that incident--who hadn't?--but at the time it all went down he had been buried deep in a case. Details such as the possibility of charges being brought had managed to escape him.

Hearing about it now, the incident only highlighted the reasons for his unrest surrounding the so-called superheroes that seemed to be cropping up in ever greater numbers. At the core of the phenomenon, the heroes were vigilantes, considered by themselves, the public, or both to be above the law. They got the job done and the world loved them for it, but Edgeworth learned long ago that the ends can never be held as justification for the means. Those who advocated turning a blind eye to the lawless nature of the vigilante movement because they approved of the results may feel very differently about a group whose actions were equally destructive but whose cause wasn't so lauded. It was a dangerous double standard, and true justice left no room for double standards.

"And if they hadn't? What would you have done if charges were brought?" There was a trap in the question, as glaring as a glint of metal in forest brush. As far as Edgeworth was concerned there was only one right answer--the one he had been too afraid to choose for himself once he had reasons to keep on living his life.

Steve spread his hands helplessly. Is this a test? "If my government feels that they need to put me in jail for what I did, then I'd serve my time."

It was indeed a test. Edgeworth couldn't be quite sure whether he was relieved or disappointed that Rogers had passed, but some of the wariness left his gaze and he relaxed his posture, just a bit.

"Hmph. As you should. Illegal activities are illegal for a reason."

"I know," Steve said, offering Edgeworth a sheepish smile. "Though I don't think the law is infallible. Sometimes it doesn't cover every situation, and the right thing to do doesn't involve slavishly adhering to the law. But when it comes down to it, I serve at the pleasure of the President. And the President makes the law."

Schmoozing the nation's elite

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