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“Are you serious?”
“Look at my face and tell me I’m not serious.”
“...You look like an angry teddy bear.”
Maya snorted, hopping on the couch and grabbing the remote. “And you look like you’re ready to flip some burgers.”
Franziska rolled her eyes, unable to abstain from smiling at the Fey girl’s silliness. It was Wednesday, which meant it was Franziska’s turn to cook, and Maya’s turn to pick a movie.
Franziska finished the burgers pretty quickly, full of practice. The dish was all that seemed to tame Maya’s insatiable appetite, other than occasional noodles. Despite her efforts to expose the Fey girl to classier German cuisine on her days to choose, the hungry woman was relentless. One day Maya had even threatened to move out if Franziska didn’t go and buy more hamburger on her way home from court.
Despite its oddity, Franziska found Maya’s strange tastes and stubborn pursual of her goals endearing. Those little endearing traits were what inspired her to kindle a friendship in the first place, and despite the awkward situations that formed because of a now vicarious association with Phoenix Wright, they eventually hit it off.
She’d never truly forgave Wright, but it didn’t matter. Her grudges became inconsequential in comparison to supporting Maya.
Their relationship wasn’t standard, per say. They did not get along at first, even when they both started putting in an effort to be kinder. Franziska assumed Maya did it out of pity, intentions on some line of charitious reconciliation on behalf of Phoenix Wright.
Franziska wasn’t quite sure why she decided to reciprocate. She’d returned from her transcontinental exploits to take a case, and she won. The attournal duo was preparing for a trial at a later date, and ran into her on her way out.
“Franziska Von Karma!” Phoenix Wright greeted intelligently.
“Phoenix Wright,” Franziska responded, significantly less enthused. She refrained from cracking her whip at him, already sick of his stupid voice and his foolish, foolish face.
“Maya Fey!” Maya announced, seemingly bouncier than usual. She beamed, hair bobbing as she gesticulated. “What are you doing here?”
“Prosecuting,” Franziska answered curtly, eyes narrowing. Why did they care?
“We should go out! Our trial’s not for another few days, we were just dropping off some paperwork,” Phoenix offered, ever extroverted. Franziska despised his geniality. It would be his downfall. “If you’re not busy, of course. And we can invite Edgeworth too, so we can all catch up.”
Franziska hummed. Absolutely not. It was an awful idea. She didn’t want to speak to Miles, didn’t have the mental capacity to withstand another one of his therapeutic, wise new man monologues. She was who she was, and no amount of defeat and emotional gymnastics and fake suicide notes would change that.
Additionally, the Fey girl was constantly on crack and Phoenix Wright made her blood boil. She wouldn’t willingly accept their company without extreme measures. Maybe torture.
But, on the other hand, she won a case. She couldn’t find it in her to use the word celebrate, as celebrations were a waste of time and usually foolish assumptions of what could be an indefinite conclusion- but she really wanted to… commemorate her victory. Indulging wasn’t a Von Karma tradition, but winning was.
“...So? You up for it?”
Franziska blinked back into the present, speaking before she could reconsider. “I suppose.”
Phoenix and Maya shared a dumb look, clearly not expecting that to work.
“Okay! Awesome! I’ll contact Edgeworth, you two can pick a venue,” Phoenix orchestrated, cheerfully pulling out his flip phone to contact her brother.
They ended up picking a semi-popular bar downtown, Larry Butz somehow being invited along the way.
As soon as they sat down Phoenix and Miles were lost in discussion, completely forgetting both their company and their manners. Maya didn’t look that phased, however, seeming used to it. That left the two girls and the Butz to converse, over a variety of drinks.
“I’m looking for a rebound,” Larry announced, eyes tearing up as he dramatically continued. “I found my true love. It was love at first sight. The most passionate romance you could ever imagine.”
Maya raised an eyebrow, sipping through her straw as she conveyed her disbelief.
“We were in love!!” Larry screamed, earning a shocked look from the prosecutor siblings, both ever concerned about public presence. “And she left me!”
“Why?” Franziska asked absently, surprised to find herself semi-interested.
“She was in love with a woman!” Larry announced, throwing his hand over his forehead and collapsing. “Told me she was a lesbian the night I proposed! We’d been together for a full month!”
Franziska choked. “You proposed after a month?”
Maya didn’t let him answer. “Aw, Larry, you should’ve let me meet her. I have the best gaydar on the planet. Try me.”
Larry took that as a challenge, pointing at some bartending brunette with a face tattoo.
“Are you kidding? Look at that ink. You don’t even need gaydar to know her menu isn’t limited to meat.”
Franziska flew into a coughing fit, endlessly surprised at the direction of the conversation.
“What about her?” Larry gestured towards a blonde girl, who was making out with another woman.
Maya deadpanned him. “One hundred percent straight. Clearly.”
Franziska giggled, face flushing red when the scarce noise drew attention.
Maya just grinned, further encouraged. “Any more?”
“What about… me?” Larry did something unnecessarily complicated with his arm, pointing towards himself.
Maya pursed her lips, pretending to think hard. “I’m sensing in the near future… an orgy… with only hot, beefy men.”
Larry blanched.
“Kidding! Obviously!” Maya laughed, and Franziska joined in at Larry’s expression. “You’re the straightest person I know. You’ll probably never even see a naked man in your lifetime.”
“Hey, that’s not true! Back in middle school Phoenix had some pretty embarrassing locker room stories, I should tell you about the one with the peanut butter-”
Phoenix's head snapped their way, looking alarmed. “Larry Butz, you better not be telling them about the peanut butter!”
“Oh you bet I am.”
“Don’t you dare!” Phoenix demanded, standing up to tackle him before remembering they were in a venue and instead reaching over to strangle him.
Larry just cackled mischievously, trying to swat him off. At some point Maya grabbed a fork, stabbing it upward at whoever was unlucky enough to be closest.
It ended up being Phoenix, who yelped in pain, finally pulling back. It was only after receiving a look of pure stupor from her brother did Franziska realize she was laughing up a storm.
Miles and Phoenix, after nursing at the latter’s pathetic stab wound, returned to their exclusive conversation.
“What about her?” Larry redirected, eyes on some fiery ginger.
“Straight as an arrow. You’re her type,” Maya encouraged, elbowing him. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Larry gave them a double thumbs up, running off to go talk to her. It seemed to go well, Larry sending back another thumbs up when she started feeling him up.
“God, I wish I had that much luck with women,” Maya lamented inattentively, swirling around her drink with her straw.
“Me too,” Franziska sighed.
It took a second for that to sink in, and when it did they locked eyes, mutually baffled.
Neither seemed to break the ice, so Von Karma awkwardly coughed and took the responsibility. “So, uh, how about them?” She pointed towards Edgeworth and Wright, now ‘discreetly’ touching thighs.
“Undeniably smitten,” Maya remarked without hesitation, offering an amused smile.
“Thank goodness someone else sees it,” Franziska chuckled, tension gone. “They’re both foolishly hindered by feelings that are reciprocated. It’s a fool's errand.”
Maya snorted. “Our brothers need to get their act together.”
“I’ll toast to that,” Franziska concurred, raising her glass. Maya met her in the middle.
Their relationship had developed fully over the next few months, starting with some casual, meaningless brunch sessions with the boys, and eventually turning into one-on-one sessions at Franziska’s place.
Franziska was terrified as she realized she looked forward to these meetings, her neglect of physical touch and secluded lifestyle morphing the casual time into something more meaningful, something Miles would describe as… unnecessary. She found herself relishing the other girl’s company, thriving when they were together, distracted when they were apart. While working she’d see something stupid and picture how Maya would react to it, laughing at the absurdity.
She also found herself with… embarrassingly childish thoughts about her. Foolish things like holding hands, sharing a noodle, strolling on the beach.
Oh God, she was turning into her little brother.
“I’m sexually interested in tall blonde men,” she announced.
Miles raised his eyebrows, a little startled by the abrupt change in subject. “I support you always, sister.”
“I want to kiss tall blonde men and court tall blonde men exclusively.”
“What a courageous thing for you to admit,” Edgeworth deadpanned, one eyebrow still elevated.
“I love tall blonde men and I am not afraid to say it.” She grinned proudly, hands on her hips.
“...Are you done?”
“Yes.” She turned back to filing her paperwork, and for a moment it seemed like he did too. But of course, having bastardly fraternal instincts and cursed with a prosecutor’s ever present keenness and nosiness, he struck.
“It’s quite a peculiar meal you’ve chosen today, Franziska.”
Both pairs of eyes locked on her lunch tray, adjourned with burgers.
“Well, yes, but this is Maya’s favorite and-”
She cut herself off, flushing red as she met Edgeworth’s smug gaze.
“Of course.” Miles smirked in victory, now turning his attention to his work. “No judgement here, I applaud your palatal flexibility. Oh, but do send my congratulations to Maya Fey on becoming a tall blonde man.”
After that she stopped denying it. Miles was right. She was not attracted to tall blonde men, no matter how much her prepubescent self would protest, she was attracted to raven haired, bouncy, eccentric spirit mediums.
She and Maya continued getting closer, despite the odds.
She remembered one night, when they’d shared their first kiss.
It started off with Franziska’s sour mood manifesting brutally, a day full of incompetent buffoons and perpetual inconveniences weighing down on her like a brick building. She was angry at everyone and everything, and worse than that she was feeling unaccomplished. Constantly being criticized and put under pressure was becoming detrimental to her ego, and while she was usually masterful at compartmentalizing these foolish insecurities today was her breaking point.
She went to go take out her frustration on the tree outside, whipping the shit out of it. When she returned Maya was lounged across her sofa, shoveling popcorn into her mouth as she watched, for the fifth night in a row, Steel Samurai.
“Does nothing else entertain you?” Franziska inquired, head pounding with a surfacing migraine. She’d heard enough Samurai children’s shows to last a lifetime as she’d grown up, Edgeworth constantly watching those programs when father was absent. She didn’t need to relive it.
Maya just perked up at the sound of her voice, shrugging and turning back to the television.
“It honestly seems like you’d enjoy spending time with my brother more than me.”
This time Maya’s attention was fully grabbed, expression morphing into something conflicted.
“That was a joke,” Franziska clarified, not offended. Her humor was dry, often she’d have to tell others when something was sarcasm. “You can laugh.”
But Maya didn’t, scanning her face with a forlorn look. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
This is exactly what Franziska didn’t want. Alarms screamed in her head, telling her to get out, abort mission. “It was a joke. I was not being serious.”
“Then why don’t I believe you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Maya shifted up onto her knees, reaching out for the other girl. Franziska, unable to endure the Fey girl’s desperation, walked over and let herself be embraced.
Maya hugged her for a moment, snuggling into her chest appreciatively when tentative arms wrapped around her back. After a few seconds she pulled back a little, setting a steady hand on Franziska’s cheek.
“I love spending time with you. You’re the only one I wanna spend this kind of time with.”
Franziska chewed her bottom lip, using all of her willpower to not avert her gaze at the passion in Maya’s eyes.
“I’m thinking you had a really rough day. And I’m thinking you’re comparing yourself to your brother because that’s all you’ve ever done, and it’s not healthy.”
Franziska blinked, a little awestruck. It was easy to forget that Maya was pretty sharp herself, having a developed perceptiveness that came with being constantly surrounded by lawyers.
“I’m thinking you’re feeling very self conscious, and I… I hope it isn’t an outlandish assumption to presume that’s because you care about our relationship.”
Franziska said nothing. She trilled her fingers and toes, making sure she could still feel them. She could run.
“I care too, Franziska, I really care. I like being with you so much, I like you so much. You’re so much more interesting than anyone else I’ve met, and that’s saying something.”
She startled when she found tears welling in her eyes, quickly blinking them away. She sniffled. “Even.. Even Scruffy?”
Maya looked a little confused, but burst out laughing once it hit her. “Yes! Yes, even Gumshoe.”
Franziska found herself laughing too, and then she was crying. Crying was a weakness, a vulnerability, but shockingly she didn’t care. She wanted to be vulnerable with Maya. Maya wouldn’t hurt her.
“For the record,” Franziska started, chuckling when Maya pressed their foreheads together. “You’re right. About all of it. Insufferable as it is to admit.”
Maya beamed softly, looking proud of herself and even prouder of Franziska.
“You are enough,” Maya whispered, gently swiping a tear from under her eye. “You are more than enough.” Another.
And then she leaned in, meeting Franziska’s lips in a kiss that was soft, and meaningful, and genuine.
Franziska believed her.
Her heart swelled.
Soon kisses became more. Soon their “relationship” wasn’t so vague, cemented and flaunted (to Maya’s joviality and Franziksa’s bashful embarrassment).
They were happy.
“Here you go,” Franziska offered, feigning irritation as she divided the burgers. Maya lit up, thanking her and jumping up to kiss her cheek before dropping back down to the couch.
Franziska joined her, letting Maya initiate contact as usual. The medium laid her head against Franziska’s shoulder, wrapping their fingers together affectionately.
“What is this?”
“I picked it because I thought you’d like it,” Maya grinned cheerfully.
Franziska didn’t blush. Much.
“That was unnecessary. Regardless, I… appreciate it.”
The movie, despite Maya’s initial intentions, was long and disinteresting to Franziska, and apparently the Fey girl herself. After eating her burgers Maya fell asleep within the first hour, having shifted to rest her head in Franziska’s lap.
Franziska, as carefully as possible, reached for the remote and turned the movie off, the room washing in standard blue light.
Franziska basked in the image of her lover in the dim lighting, memories of their past filling her with sentimentality. She felt telltale pinpricks in the corners of her eyes but blinked them away. She’d heard once, from some lawyer (she couldn’t remember exactly which one; she heard a lot of nonsense from a lot of nonsensical people- it was a shock that this one stuck with her), that you were allowed to cry when it was all over.
She hoped that what she had with Maya Fey was far from over.