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When Miles agreed to take the job of Chief Prosecutor, there had been no mention of the fact that at times it would feel like he was in charge of a gaggle of children. It amazes him how his subordinates manages to function as adults in court considering the shenanigans that regularly occur in the prosecutor’s office. Regularly he deals with noise complaints about the office of a certain rock star prosecutor, or complaints about Blackquill’s bird harassing people.
Certainly, things had never been like this back in Lana Skye’s day. Of course, he muses, Lana Skye’s prosecutor’s office had also included the glaring flaws of intentionally forged evidence and a corrupt police chief blackmailing the Chief Prosecutor, so it wasn’t exactly the best standard to hold his office to.
Miles' workspace is the same 12th floor office he'd occupied before he'd gone overseas. Of course, upon accepting the job, he had been offered the vacated office of the former Chief Prosecutor. He had declined, choosing to stay in his own office. He intended to make his mark as Chief Prosecutor, and that included refraining from making the same mistakes as his predecessors. To do that, he felt most at home in his old office with all the memories it held. The last thing anyone needed was the second coming of the Dark Age of the Law.
Despite his distaste for the person he was when it was worn, Miles keeps the suit jacket from his court debut displayed on the wall, bullet hole in the frame fixed. It commemorates an important event in his law career, as well as serving as a reminder to how far he has come in personal growth. He has made it to Chief Prosecutor even after renouncing the Von Karma way, and is better for it.
His Steel Samurai memorabilia sits on the shelf by the window, on display but out of the way from prying eyes. Miles had not missed the way Simon Blackquill's eyebrows had risen at the sight of them. Maya Fey makes a point to seek them out whenever she visits so she can gush over them and jabber away about the limited edition releases Miles owns, and Miles shudders to think of what will happen the day she finally crosses paths with Blackquill.
Miles' desk is currently occupied by the paperwork of a particularly nasty case, a triple homicide in a supposedly locked room. He doesn't usually get this involved in cases anymore, but one of his subordinates had asked him to take a glance over the case as no one had yet been able to crack the locked room aspect of the mystery. Privately, Miles thought they might be better off asking the expertise of the Wright Anything Agency, who seemed to excel in unravelling the mysteries of such cases. Maybe he would mention it to Wright when a suspect arose.
It is refreshing to be able to talk to Wright about potential cases now that his badge has been rightfully reinstated, and to see him in court doing what he does best. Although he regrets the precise circumstances that lead to the trial, he would be lying if he claimed to not have enjoyed facing off against Wright in court again during the UR-1 retrial. It had been long overdue. The last time they had stood across from each other had felt like a lifetime ago, and in some ways, it had been. It was before their marriage, before the Wright Anything Agency, before Trucy and Apollo and Athena, and before the disbarment. The justice system is finally emerging from its Dark Age, and Miles likes to think that the future is a little brighter thanks to Phoenix Wright and his protégés.
In addition to the case files and normal office equipment, Miles' desk is also home to two small picture frames, their photos facing towards the large window. The first houses a picture of Trucy, all smiles and happiness after a successful magic show. Miles had never thought himself capable of being a parent, not after his own childhood, but Trucy was different. Wright often described her as his light, and Miles couldn’t agree more. The day they signed the paperwork and he officially became her father was one of the happiest of his life. The second frame displayed a photo of him and Wright, taken on their wedding day. It had only been a small ceremony, neither of them wanted anything big. The people there were the ones they were closest to, and the overwhelming feeling on the day was that it was a long overdue event.
Miles is used to seeing Wright around the prosecutor's office. It's not a surprise for him to find an excuse to visit Miles. What is a surprise is to see him in that familiar blue hued suit, but Miles is sure that will fade as time goes on. What he doesn’t think will ever fade is the way his eye is drawn to the spot on his husband’s lapel where his attorney’s badge sits in its rightful place once again, after having been wrenched away so long ago.
Miles likes to think he runs a tight ship. Trials are prepared for on time, witnesses procured, and correct verdicts handed down. Miles does his best to instil in his subordinates the importance of the truth over their trial win record. It’s only been a short time since he took on the job, but progress is being made and that’s the best thing he can hope for.
While there are a great many prosecutors under his command and Miles tries his best to keep all their names straight, there is a small group of people he finds himself hearing from or about on an almost daily basis. First, there is Klavier Gavin. Miles remembers hearing about him in passing back at the beginning of Klavier’s career, when he was the designated prodigy of that particular year. However, the first time his name held any significance for Miles was after the Zak Gramarye trial. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget hearing Wright’s voice shake down the phone after that trial, telling him he’d been disbarred. The news reports afterwards were filled with stories about the young prosecutor with a burgeoning music career, the one who’d managed to finally upstage a crooked defence attorney.
For seven years, Miles quietly held his grudge against Klavier Gavin. He resented the teenager who had caused Wright so much pain. But then came the Shadi Smith murder, the Machi Tobaye trial, and finally, the Vera Misham trial. Kristoph Gavin’s heinous actions had come to light, as had Klavier’s innocence in Miles’ eyes. After all, Miles too knew a little something about being betrayed by the people closest to you.
Now, not quite two years on, Miles has a grudging respect for the man. Klavier is possibly the least corrupt prosecutor in Miles' inner circle. His desire to seek the truth regardless of whether it will end in a win for him is admirable. Miles finds himself taking Klavier under his wing to an extent, to make sure he’s dealing with the events of the last eight years in a healthy way. He sees the dark circles under the younger man’s eyes, and the way he doesn’t take even a day off work. It fills Miles with concern, and a determination to make things right. He’ll be damned if he lets Kristoph Gavin’s corruption ruin Klavier’s life the way it has so many others.
Apollo Justice doesn’t work for Miles, but given the amount of time he seems to spend at the prosecutor’s office, he might as well. If he’s ever questioned on his presence, Apollo is prone to spluttering out an excuse about needing to see Klavier. Miles may have a reputation among some as an unfeeling robot, but he isn’t blind. He sees the looks that pass between his subordinate and Wright’s protégé. He sees their red faces and panicked looks as they are caught in Klavier’s office just a little too close together for casual acquaintances. Wright and Trucy talk about making bets about when the two of them will get together. Miles believes they should be left to develop their relationship when the time is right. Apollo, much like Klavier, has a lot of healing to do. He hopes that they can help each other overcome their individual tragedies.
After Simon Blackquill’s retrial and subsequent acquittal, Miles had made it clear to him that if he wished to stay with the LA prosecutor’s office then there was a job waiting for him. While Miles would not have held it against him if Blackquill had wanted to be as far away from LA as he could get, he can’t deny he’s happy to keep him on as an employee and a friend. Miles knows he attracted a lot of gossip by letting murder convict Simon Blackquill prosecute trials while serving out his death sentence, but he’s glad to be able to show the world at large that his gamble paid off and that Blackquill has always been an innocent man.
While he is not afraid to get firm if the situation arises, Miles finds himself letting Blackquill bend the rules to ensure he has a working environment to his liking. His only stipulations on allowing Taka on the premises are ensuring that she is toilet trained and that she doesn’t cause any of the other prosecutors permanent injuries. Many of his other employees blatantly flout conventional office décor etiquette, and Blackquill is no different. As Miles explains to people nosey enough to ask, all he is concerned with is how his subordinates perform their duties in court. As long as they aren’t breaking the law, they can conduct themselves however they like outside of the courtroom.
Athena Cykes, Wright's second protégé, is another permanent fixture around the office. Miles assumes someone must've been tipped off to let her in the building, because it's become a regular occurence to see her carrying bags of food (usually sushi) into Blackquill's office. Her luminous yellow suit can be seen from quite a distance away, so any attempts to be inconspicuous while she sneaks in would surely fail. Even the most unobservant witness Miles had ever had the displeasure to have on the witness stand would surely notice her. To her credit, she doesn't shy away when she runs into Miles in the corridor. She'll smile and greet him before bouncing off down to Blackquill's office door. She doesn't at all bothered that Miles might stop her.
Not that Miles would dream of trying to stop her. He considers it important that Blackquill is reintegrated into society as comfortably as possible after his prison stay, and Athena seems like a great help in that respect. While he respects both of their privacy and considers it beneath him to eavesdrop, Miles has on occasion caught snatches of their conversations through the ajar door as he passes by. He hears Athena, bubbly and bright, telling Blackquill about Europe or about a funny anecdote from the Wright Anything Agency. It's rarer for him to hear Blackquill speaking and Athena silent, but on occasion he catches snippets of the man talking about his time with Metis or a shared memory of an event at the space center. It seems therapeutic for both of them to talk about their shared past and shared losses. With his older sister serving her sentence for kidnapping, it seemed Blackquill was content to step into an older sibling role for Athena, whether he is consciously aware of it or not.
Miles feels a kinship with Athena over the traumatic loss of her only parent at such a young age. It gives him hope, however, to see that her path towards the fight for truth and justice has not wavered. The good inside her still burns bright. Despite their similar circumstance, the universe has not made her repeat Miles' mistakes.
Franziska might not have worked for the LA prosecutor's office since long before Miles became Chief Prosecutor, but he still considers her to be a part of it. He makes sure to keep an office waiting for her when she does fly over to help with the odd case, although most of the time it sits unused as she's off whipping Interpol into shape. Their relationship is hard to explain to outsiders, so Miles usually just simplifies it and introduces Franziska as his sister. People are usually too busy being intimidated by her to question it. Although he knows he’d be facing down her whip if he voiced it allowed, privately he does still worry about her. About her father’s influence on her even now that he’s long gone, and about the immense pressure on her shoulders from her father’s legacy. Miles is no fool, his own childhood at the hands of Manfred von Karma was no picnic, but he knows Franziska’s was hell in a different way. She was raised to be perfect in every way in order to live up to the Von Karma legacy, and along the way that didn’t leave much room for a normal childhood. But they’re both survivors, and Miles knows there isn’t much in the world that can keep Franziska down for long. Occasionally news of her achievements will grace the front page of the newspaper in LA, and Miles will read it with a smile as he thinks of everything she has accomplished.
At the other end of the spectrum of competent prosecutors is Gaspen Payne. Winston may have retired, but his brother made enough of a nuisance of himself for the both of them. Miles found himself too scared to inquire as to whether there were any more Payne siblings lurking in the justice system that he might have to interact with. The two brothers had been more than enough of the Payne family for a lifetime. Miles keeps Payne around because, while he is thoroughly unpleasant and prone to holding a grudge, he has yet to do anything overtly corrupt. While he would never admit it out loud, he wouldn't be too upset should a reason to fire him surface, or at the very least a reason to transfer him elsewhere. Miles could almost feel a migraine coming on every time he heard the screechy voice of the older man. If he occasionally used his position to delegate the pleasure of dealing with Payne to someone else, well, no one had to know.
Ema Skye isn't a prosecutor, but some days Miles sees her around more often than his actual subordinates. He makes a point to congratulate her in person on passing the forensics exam on her second try, and she goes red as she stutters out a thank you and leaves the room quickly. He had thought she might age out of being flustered around him, but it still happened on occasion. In court, however, her help is indispensable to solving many a crime. It is a joy to have seen her grow from Lana Skye’s baby sister into a formidable agent of the law in her own right. Miles is glad that at least one person made it out of the Damon Gant scandal with their faith in law enforcement intact. Ema Skye is a credit to her sister and to her department, and Miles knows she will most likely go onto achieve great things and leave them all in the dust. Her methods may be slightly unorthodox, but he can list a number of crimes off the top of his head that would never have been solved without her. Miles can’t wait to see her pioneer forensics techniques that will be used for decades to come. After the fake Bobby Fulbright fiasco, it’s nice to be able to still put his faith in the people who work in the police department.
Of course, there are a great many prosecutors under his command. Miles knows them by name when he does interact with one of them, but for the most part it's a small group of people he hears from or about on a regular basis. That's the way he prefers it; he has a small circle of people he trusts implicitly. These are the people he comes to for the cases that are particularly important or close to home.
He knows that, by keeping his distance, the majority of his other subordinates don't really know what to make of him. It's been ten years, but there are still a few people whispering in the shadows about the demon prosecutor. They talk about the demon prosecutor and his forgin' defence attorney who rule over the Los Angeles justice system. It makes Miles angrier that they insist on dragging Wright's name through the mud than it does that they do it to his own name. However, he's older now. He recognises that the best revenge is to continue on the path of reforming the justice system into what it should be, an institution free of corruption. At its core, their justice system is about finding the truth.
Miles is shaken out of his reverie by a knock at the door. Whoever it is sounds insistent, although Miles doesn’t remember having any meetings scheduled at that time.
“Come in” he calls. The sooner this matter is dealt with, the sooner he can go home. He no longer feels the need to stay late at the office every night. Not now that he has something to come home to; a loving husband and daughter. A family.