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Franziska had only been two years old when her father had taken Miles under his wing. Now, however, she is almost twenty, eyebrows slanted in accusation and scrutinizing her so-called ‘older brother’ as though he’s a bug under a microscope.
“As much as it pains me to say so,” she starts, arms crossed over her chest in their usual fashion, temple twitching, “you are an above-average physical specimen.”
“Uh. Thank you,” answers Miles, with no small degree of awkwardness. Franziska von Karma is not known for the casual dispensation of compliments. Nonetheless, there’s a sinking feeling in his gut, like he knows precisely where this is going.
Franziska strides skilfully across the office, like a lioness stalking her prey, until she reaches Miles’s desk, and pounces. Her hands slam against the polished oak, leather slapping against wood as she leans over. For the first time, Miles notices his sister is not in her usual courtroom attire, but some slinky little thing, probably worn for this precise purpose.
His mouth is dry.
Determined not to look, he simply waits for Franziska to announce the next step of her plan, as is her habit. His darling sister has always had a flair for histrionics.
“I have been having some doubts as to my attraction towards men for some time now,” she continues predictably. “And that is when it occurred to me. You are a man.”
“Indeed,” he answers, with all the tartness he can muster.
Satisfied, Franziska pulls back, but only slightly. “And an objectively attractive one at that. I believe the time has come for me to test my theory.”
Frequently, Miles finds himself wishing Franziska would expand upon her thoughts in more detail. But it is a futile hope, and instead, he is forced to ask aloud, “And what do you mean by that?” He crosses his arms in a mirror of hers and hopes that his voice carries the correct undertone of explain, or I won’t hesitate to evict you from my office.
Not that Franziska is the type of woman who would be stymied by such a threat. “I will kiss you,” she announces, as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
Miles quirks an eyebrow. “You will, will you?”
There’s a twinkle in Franziska’s eye, the same one she always gets when she thinks she’s won. “I note, Miles Edgeworth, that you have raised no objections.”
Before he can get a word in edgewise, Franziska descends upon him, hands shifting to grasp his shoulders before her lips capture his in a bruising kiss. Miles’s mind whirs into overdrive, too many thoughts occurring to him at once. Franziska is a passable, if angry, kisser. Where did she learn? Is the surge of jealousy that erupts in him brotherly protectiveness or something more? Her lips are soft. He can feel her breasts pressing against his chest, warm even despite his layers of clothing.
Her tongue breaks the seal of his mouth with renewed determination and Miles yields, tries to find something to do with his own hands. He settles them lightly at Franziska’s waist, as though she might snap in two if he held her too tightly.
She’d hate him for regarding her as fragile, he thinks - and as though punishing him for this inner monologue, Franziska pulls at his lower lip with her teeth. Despite himself, Miles lets out a groan. How can he not?
Franziska scoffs, low and rough in the back of her throat, detaching herself from Miles with a messy pop. She wrinkles her nose. It’s oddly endearing.
“Disgusting,” she declares.
Miles notes the erratic rise and fall of her chest. Also: “You’ve not let go of my arms.” A contradiction.
Franziska drops her hands immediately and takes several steps backwards, as though he’s thoroughly offended her. He probably has, in some way or another. “Thank you for taking part in my experiment, Miles Edgeworth,” she says once she’s put enough distance between them.
He tries not to, really, but he finds himself smiling. “You’re welcome,” he says, as though this is a routine, day-to-day affair.
It’s not until Franziska’s left, slamming the door behind her, that Miles reclines in his seat, attempting to process what has occurred. He’d never thought he was attracted to women, but his pants feel uncomfortably tight all the same.
Perhaps Franziska was not the only one who had been conducting an experiment today.