Though he couldn't say why, the joke actually startled a low chuckle out of Phoenix, and he relaxed slightly against the unforgiving back of the pew. He didn't like knowing so much less than all these people from the future, but there was an everyday mischievousness in the jibe that was positively comforting. "I've been making a lot of people repeat themselves, it seems like. But thanks." His eyes flickered toward the podium, even though there wasn't anybody there. "You've got a reputation that precedes you: I've heard about you from both your brother and Edgeworth." He released a quiet breath. "But it's nice to do things the normal way, even when we don't have to."

They couldn't do things the normal way forever, though. Phoenix couldn't do things the normal way for more than five minutes, anymore, even when he wanted to. There was a melancholy in that thought that kept his eyes on the puddles of multicolored light spilling across the floors for a few more seconds, soaking in the bright simplicity of reds and blues shining off of polished wood and marble. Then he looked back again, a harmless quirk of a smile nestling into one corner of his mouth. "Did Edgeworth give you the third degree about the timespan between you and me, already?"