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“Nick! I’m going out, and I’m borrowing five dollars!”
Phoenix emerged from the bathroom, wielding a toilet brush in rubber-gloved hands, an inquisitive look on his face.
“Only five dollars? Where are you getting multiple burgers for five dollars in Los Angeles? Let me know, because every time we go out, you and Pearls order enough food for a family of five. My poor wallet can’t take the strain,” he said, waving the brush around animatedly.
Pearls was definitely eavesdropping, judging by the sounds of her giggles. Kids’ Masterpiece Theatre wasn’t funny at all.
“Um. I’m not…going out for food, Nick. Maybe when I get back! It’s just…I have an errand to run,” she mumbled, not meeting his eye.
“An errand,” he repeated.
“Kurain stuff,” she said, quickly, giving him a capital-M Meaningful Look. “It’s, uh, a little tricky to explain,” she said, shrugging lightly. Phoenix sighed.
“I can’t keep you here. So long as you take your phone with you and don’t end up at the Detention Centre with a culpable homicide charge, you can go wherever you want. I’ll handle Pearls.” he said, one arm still akimbo.
Thank god Phoenix Wright was such a pushover. Maya really needed to stop taking advantage of that, at some point, but not now, not when time was of the essence.
“Thanks, Nick. I’ll be back in an hour or two, and if I’m not, you…probably know where to look,” she said, flashing him a grateful smile, turning to leave.
“I can’t pay the rent if you’re my entire caseload, Maya!”
At the florist across the road, she picked up the first bright bouquet that caught her eye. As luck would have it, it cost five dollars exactly.
Kurain Village, being small and generally out of the way, was not a very good place for a young acolyte to explore her sexuality, as cultish as the whole affair sometimes seemed. It was even worse for Maya, who became the heir apparent after it was discovered that her powers were much stronger than her sister’s. Maya was now expected to produce offspring , which was quite a challenge in itself, seeing as there were next to no eligible bachelors in Kurain, much less anyone Maya would actually want to—
But that was besides the point. She’d always felt funny whenever she went down to Los Angeles to spend time with Mia and spied people who weren’t tied down to the same responsibilities and expectations that she was.
Mia caught her staring once at two girls holding hands, during her early years working for Marvin Grossberg, and had simply ruffled her hair and told her that girls could be with girls and boys could be with boys the same way girls and boys were together. So that settled the sexuality crisis, in most aspects, save for the categorical one.
Maya wasn’t in much of a hurry, really. She was, after all, barely 18. She had plenty of time, and, after her sister’s passing, wanted to put her training first.
This was the sensible thing to do.
Which was why, from the moment she’d spotted Franziska from the defendant's chair, Maya knew she was in trouble.
With her slate-grey hair, icy blue eyes, and positively immaculate...everything, Franziska was unlike anything or anyone Maya had ever encountered before, and unfortunately, she was now attracted to the prosecutor intent on putting her on death row.
Perhaps it was a good thing that she wasn’t so keen on passing her traits on to progeny, because this had Bad Idea written all over it.
At first she thought she could ignore her little infatuation. Maya was willing to bet that these things happened all the time. Franziska was probably just like her father; cold, heartless, and only concerned with her win record. Maybe emotionally inept, too, if the unscrupulous use of her whip was anything to go by. Aside from looks and obvious put-togetherness, Maya was generally convinced that there was no real, rational reason to have a crush on someone like her.
And then, Franziska Von Karma had taken a bullet to the shoulder, and still showed up to court for her just hours later, or so she had heard.
Sure, there were the technicalities. But Maya wasn’t stupid. She had witnessed what had happened with Phoenix ignoring his own feelings just under a year ago, when Edgeworth had...left, the way he did. She knew Franziska was probably going to leave too, now that her record had been shattered and everything that prosecuting once meant to her had been destroyed so carelessly.
“Irises,” said the young man behind the counter. “Interesting choice. They mean faith and hope. Promise, too.”
“I didn’t know,” said Maya. “I just think they look pretty.”
“Excuse me, I’m here to see a Ms. Franziska Von Karma?”
Everything about this hotel intimidated Maya a little, and she fiddled with the ribbon on her bouquet. From the plush carpet to the crystal chandeliers, to the faint strains of classical music, she felt out of place in her acolyte’s robes, fancy as they were.
What exactly was she doing here, again?
“Room number?” asked the lady at reception, without batting an eyelid.
“Um…I’m not entirely sure, but I need to see her. It’s urgent and, uh, requires her immediate attention,” said Maya, hoping she sounded about twice as confident as she felt right now.
“I’m sorry,” said the lady, not sounding very sorry at all. “I cannot let uninvited visitors into our guests’ rooms. If you would like pay Ms. Von Karma a visit, you’ll require—“
“My express consent,” came a voice behind her, deep and unmistakably European.
Miles Edgeworth, in the flesh, burgundy suit, cravat, and all. Maya could only stare, eyes wide, as he stepped forward, clearing his throat lightly. It wasn’t any surprise Nick liked him so much, now that she considered it. He seemed to have a knack for good timing, and Maya thanked her lucky stars for it.
“Mr. Edgeworth, my apologies!” stammered the lady, a light flush in her cheeks. “Is this girl here your guest?” she asked, embarrassedly.
“Indeed. Miss Fey was the defendant in my sister’s last case. Now, if you would let us through.” He said, smoothly, leveling her with a pointed, slightly annoyed look.
“Of course, of course. I’m sorry, please proceed to room 603.” she said, directing them to the lift lobby. Miles’ gaze flicked over to Maya, who was still a little shell-shocked, if her expression was anything to go by.
Once they were alone, Edgeworth turned to her, nonplussed.
“Explain yourself, Ms. Fey,” he said; hand on the door leading to the stairwell.
Pushing through the swinging door, Maya followed after, taking the steps two at a time.
“It’s Maya, please,” she said, awkwardly, stepping a little faster to keep pace with Edgeworth. If they were going to have a chat about this, then Maya wasn’t going to trail languidly behind him. “And thank you, for just now, Mr. Edgeworth.”
“Very well. Why are you here to harass Franziska?” he asked, snippy, but mostly inquisitive.
Maya strengthened her resolve, and also her constitution. This was likely the most exercise she had gotten in weeks. No wonder Phoenix complained about how toned Edgeworth had gotten, since it seemed that he just took the stairs everywhere.
“I’m not here to harass her. It’s just…Nick told me that Franziska was shot by De Killer, uh, the day before yesterday, when you guys rescued me. I just wanted to uh, say thanks to her too.”
“By showing up unannounced at her hotel room with...flowers.”
“Well, how else was I supposed to contact her when Nick expressly forbade me from getting framed for murder again?” Maya retorted. Edgeworth snorted. Despite being Wright’s assistant, he supposed she did have some wit about her.
“You’re lucky she misplaced her whip. She’s packing right now, and thinks I don’t know she’s leaving for Brussels tonight on the 7pm flight,” he said, idly, completely composed as they reached the 6th floor, and rounded the corner of the hallway leading the to the hotel rooms. Maya could only nod as she caught her breath.
“You know, if this works out favourably, I think you might just become the only person in her life who’s actually her age,” he mused.
“Is it true that she became a prosecutor at age 13?” asked Maya, finally gathering her wits. “I mean…I was just thinking, that wouldn’t have really let her make a lot of friends very easily.”
“It didn’t, no,” said Edgeworth, plainly. “And now, she’s running away from the only thing that she’s ever had under the impression that she’s lost it. Foolish, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling his wallet to get his key card out.
“But you did the same, Edgeworth,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “And it hurt Phoenix. I’m…I don’t want to make the same mistake that Nick did,” said Maya, cheeks puffing, grip tightening around the bouquet.
“For a teenager, you sure think you know a lot,” said Miles, giving her a wan smile. Maya scowled at him in return. He sighed, and shook his head.
“Good luck. If you mess it up, there will be hell to pay.” He said, cavalier. “I’ll be in room 605 if you need me, directly opposite,” he said, shooting her one last glance, before he was tapping his key card against the sensor on his door. The lock whirred open and the door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving Maya alone in the hallway, in front of Franziska’s door.
She took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.
At first, there was nothing. Then there was the sound of something Maya could only describe as frustrated rustling on the other end, before the door was thrown open, and Franziska stood before her, looking nothing short of an absolute mess.
Her usually coiffed blue-grey hair was sticking up and out in several directions, like she had taken a page from Gumshoe’s book. Her immaculate black pencil skirt was creased, and her stockings had a few runs here and there. Her white blouse was half-buttoned and hanging off her shoulder, revealing pale, bandaged skin. Maya met her glare head on with her own determined stare, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent her eyes from roaming any more than they already had.
“You better have a damn good reason for being here right now,” she hissed, glaring at Maya with all the anger she could muster, her lips pulled into a snarl.
“I,” Maya began, swallowing her fear. “I wanted to thank you, for…everything. But, uh. You seem busy.”
With her good arm, Franziska pulled Maya in bodily, slamming the door shut behind her. Back inside room 605, Miles Edgeworth’s teacups rattled, and he debated informing Phoenix Wright of his associate’s exploits, before deciding against it. For now.
“Nein,” she spat, back turned. “You’re here to laugh at me and my failure to put that foolish defense attorney in his place,” said Franziska, bitterly, crossing her arms over her bare chest, wincing with the effort it took to move her arm.
“I haven’t even said anything yet,” said Maya, looking at her balefully, still standing in the doorway. While she hadn’t dreamed of getting this far, she couldn’t say that she hadn’t been expecting this sort of a reaction.
“Then you’re here to pity me. I don’t need that either, so save it,” she said, growing more agitated by the minute. Her left hand twitched for a whip that wasn’t there.
Judging by the way her shirt was buttoned right now, it seemed as if she had been trying to get it off, perhaps working at the small buttons with one hand, trying and failing to undo them correctly.
“Do you need help with that?” asked Maya, stepping forward, setting the bouquet down on the coffee table.
“No!” yelled Franziska, but made no movement to stop Maya as her hands reached for the lapels of her shirt, working deftly.
“There,” said Maya, smoothing some wrinkles out of the shirt, careful to avoid anywhere that might be sore. It still hung off her slim shoulders, showing off her slender neck and collarbones that jutted out proudly. Her chest and left shoulder were bound over with a compression bandage. Faint bruises dotted otherwise unblemished skin.
“I don’t need your help, foolish girl,” she said, weaker this time, her shoulders rising and falling with every breath. “I’m independent. I don’t need my foolish little brother, or my Papa, or that foolish defense attorney to tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Maya looked up at her, eyeing her levelly. Franziska was taller, but Maya’s gaze was firm.
“I, um. I got you flowers. Because, you were shot, and you still showed up to the courthouse to save my life. I know you knew about the investigation. I also know that we aren’t exactly best friends right now, since you tried to get me indicted for murder that one time, but, uh. I wanted to thank you anyway?” Maya shifted, eyes downcast. She didn’t trust herself to look up.
“Being a prosecutor is a thankless job, and I refuse to participate in any of these questionable displays of gratitude. Ergo, I can take care of myself, and that includes undressing, shot or not!” said Franziska, fumbling with the zipper of her skirt, now.
Maya took this moment to glance around the room. The sheets were untucked and all over the place. Franziska had probably been lying there not too long ago. There were papers piled up on most horizontal surfaces, and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Evidence of a night-long struggle, possibly drunken, possibly just agitated. Maya wasn’t exactly the neatest person either, but even she had some sense of self-preservation.
“Are you sure you can clean and pack with one hand? You seem to be having trouble with your clothes, too. You know, I could probably help you get out of them if you needed me to,” began Maya.
“No. A Von Karma is always perfect, thank you very much. I got it done before, and I can get it done now, shoulder be damned.” snapped Franziska, tugging on the edge of her skirt. She proceeded to yank it a little too hard, and the sound of fabric tearing was punctuated by a frustrated German swear. Her left arm twitched by her side, once more, for a whip that wasn’t there, before she sunk onto a corner of the unmade bed, pulling one knee up to her chest. Stripped down like this, Franziska looked smaller, almost like the tired eighteen year old girl she was.
“If you won’t accept my gratitude, I’m here to make a bargain,” said Maya, tearing her eyes from the way the discs of Franziska’s spine jutted out slightly creating small divots in a row on her back.
When she didn’t respond, Maya continued.
“Since you had a part to play in saving my life,” Maya started, slowly, “Which involved getting shot for me,”
“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” she bit out, massaging her shoulder a little, gritting her teeth.
“Let me help you. Call it repaying a debt. I owe you one, and I don’t like leaving scores unsettled, like, um, my foolish defense attorney boss, and your foolish brother,” said Maya.
Cautiously, she took a seat next to Franziska.
“May I?” she asked, quietly.
An almost imperceptible nod.
Maya shifted so that she was sitting down behind Franziska, and slowly began working the area around her injured shoulder with her fingertips. Franziska’s eyes slid shut, slowly, and she let out a soft, shuddering sigh. When she opened her eyes, they were teary, and she swiped at them with the back of her good hand, stifling a soft sniffle.
“Just so we’re clear,” she said, her voice wobbling a little. “I am only accepting these favors, because I would sooner die a dog’s death in this dingy hotel room than ask Miles Edgeworth to help me undress myself. This is not at all me accepting or acknowledging any sort of foolish, unnecessary feelings, on either of our parts.”
“Of course,” said Maya, softly, continuing her ministrations. “I wouldn’t dream of it, not when you’re…grieving, I guess.” Franziska nodded, and clawed off her torn hose, disposing of it unceremoniously. When Franziska decided enough was enough, she moved into her bathroom to take a shower, alone, mumbling vague death threats at Maya if she dared follow after.
Maya didn’t.
Instead, as steam wafted out from underneath the bathroom door, Maya got to sorting Franziska’s things. After making the bed and folding her clothes (mostly silk pajamas and office wear), Maya tackled the seemingly endless volumes of case files. Dimly, she realized that most of the files were filled with copies of documents related to the cases she and Nick had been working on for the past year or so. Franziska sure was thorough with her case precedents.
She seemed fond of black pens and post-its, if her annotations were anything to go by. Maya couldn’t help but read a few. In the file about Mia’s death a year ago, Franziska had circled her profile and put several question marks next to it. In the DL-6 file, Franziska had drawn rather unbecoming horns and a moustache on Edgeworth’s. Maya snickered. Phoenix would probably kill for this kind of thing.
That was probably...not the best analogy.
In the next set of files, Maya noticed a post-it next to her name.
Definitely not guilty, despite best efforts. Sehr hübsch. Keep a distance, even if she smiles.
She shut the dossier with a flourish, filing the phrase away to translate later. Maybe Nick knew some German?
Franziska emerged, damp and wrapped in a towel, just as Maya was finished sorting. The room was mostly cleaned, but then again, anything was a huge improvement from the way it had been before.
“You didn’t have to clean.” she said, surveying the room, almost appreciatively.
“I wanted to clean,” replied Maya. She ducked into the bathroom and filled a drinking glass with water, before unceremoniously sticking her flowers in them. She set the glass atop the bedside table.
“Foolish,” muttered Franziska, her expression unreadable.
Wordlessly, Maya helped Franziska into her clothes, careful to not move her left arm too much, and then equally cautious to not overdo it with the helping. By the end of it, Franziska was crisply dressed, and save for the redness around her eyes, you wouldn’t have known she had been a trainwreck just a little while ago.
“You can go now,” she said, sharply, but there wasn’t as much bite to her voice. “You’ve helped me get myself together again. I can leave for Europe, where I have the Von Karma estate’s servants, and we can pretend this never happened.”
Maya shook her head, and stepped forward, adjusting the bow around her neck, tied slightly unevenly.
“You’re not getting it,” she said, shrugging lightly, her brow crinkling with concern and concentration. “Franziska, you’re not exactly the most put-together right now.” said Maya, giving up and, untying it, before retying it over again.
“You’re not getting it. I'm fine. I have to be fine, there’s no other choice,” she snapped, tensing up, jerkily drawing away from Maya’s grasp. "It's- I can't be not okay. I can't be not fine when- not when I'm jus a worthless, useless, girl!"
“Are you, though?” asked Maya, softly, placing her hand on Franziska's trembling arm. “You became a prosecutor when you were barely a teenager.”
“One year after him.”
“While being seven years younger than him.”
“It’s not- I need to. You don’t understand, I can’t be weak, I can’t show that I’m lesser, Maya, or there will be consequences. I have to be perfect in every way, because now, my Papa isn’t around to be perfect anymore. I can’t—He was mein vater.” Franziska ran a hand across her face roughly. “I can’t…I can’t let him down now. I can’t disappoint him, I have to live up to the Von Karma name since that fool Edgeworth won’t!”
“Your father’s unhealthy pursuit of perfection was his downfall,” whispered Maya, looking her dead in the eyes. “And if you don’t recognize it, it will be yours as well.”
Franziska held her gaze for one long moment.
The floodgates burst open.
Letting out a sob, Franziska slumped against the smaller girl, burying her face in Maya’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist, and trembling in her embrace. Maya hugged her back as tightly as she could, and, in between rubbing soothing circles into her back, wondered if Franziska had ever been held like this before.
Two teenage girls forced to grow up too quickly embraced in a quiet room, the suffocating pressure of expectation weighing down on them.
“No one’s perfect. Hell, no one’s even asking you to be perfect,” murmured Maya.
“There’s nothing I can do about it now, is there?” she snapped, pulling away abruptly. “He’s dead. Gone, and turned his body over to the state. I couldn’t even bury the arschloch. If I want closure, it’s going to take forever, and I don’t have that kind of time, nor the emotional energy to expend.” said Franziska, glaring fiercely, the cool fabric of Maya’s robes still fisted between her fingertips.
“You forget who you’re talking to,” reminded Maya, taking Franziska’s hands in her own. “I sort of do this for a living,” she said, offering her a smile. Franziska blanched.
“Y-you wouldn’t. Not, not now,” she said. “He can’t see me like this.”
“No, not now,” agreed Maya. “Eventually, maybe. You could take a break, and make an appointment. Officially.” she said. “I know Edgeworth made one, for later this year. He said that under no circumstances was I to tell Nick, but didn’t say anything about telling you, but you’re still obligated to do the same.” she said, her thumb rubbing over Franziska’s knuckles as she inspected her manicured fingers.
“As if I would willingly contact that foolish excuse for a fool defense attorney,” scoffed Franziska, but fell silent when Maya looked at her pointedly.
“Fine. I’ll...consider it,” conceded Franziska, squeezing Maya’s hands lightly. Her gaze flicked from Maya’s eyes to her mouth, and Maya swallowed, biting down on her lower lip.
“I don’t want to stop being a lawyer,” she breathed, looking at Maya through her eyelashes.
“So don’t. You’re a talented prodigy prosecutor. Sure, you have some rough edges, but who doesn’t?”
“But I’m his daughter. When people look at me, they see his shadow.”
“He doesn’t have to define who you are, you know,” Maya tucked a lock of soft, damp grey hair behind Franziska’s ear, before pulling away slightly to size her up. “I kinda get where you’re coming from, though. I’m supposed to be the Master of Kurain once I finish my training, and not too long ago I thought that there were a lot of things that I was that didn’t fit into my idea of who a Master should be.”
“What changed?” Franziska was playing with Maya’s draping sleeves, seemingly nonchalant.
“I did, I guess. You can’t really control the hand you get dealt, but you can control what you do with it. Kinda.”
Franziska looked up at her, something akin to slow realization sparking in unsure, cloudy eyes. She shut them, and pulled Maya a little closer.
“I’m still returning to Europe tonight,” she whispered.
“I’m not stopping you,” replied Maya, eyes downcast. Franziska’s hands moved down to Maya’s waist, and Maya’s hands found their way around her neck. A thumb idly brushed at the small, mesmerizing mole by Franziska’s left eye.
They met halfway, Maya’s warm, dry lips pressing against Franziska’s much softer ones, and Franziska shifted her head slightly so their noses wouldn’t bump too much. Tangling a hand in Franziska’s hair earned her slightly parted lips, and Maya deepened the kiss, Franziska pulling her in closer and responding in kind.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, before they needed to come up for air, panting lightly. Franziska’s cheeks were glowing, and her hair was a mess where Maya had run her fingers through it.
“Schieße,” swore Franziska, licking her lips. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” asked Maya, still sorting out her hair.
“Because. I’m not- ready for something like this. I...I can’t. It's just too much right now. I don’t want to get your hopes up...only to disappoint you.”
“...Was that your first kiss too?” Maya looked up at Franziska, after a pause.
“I-- Yes? What does that have to do with anything?” asked Franziska, brows furrowing.
“I’m trying to say that I get it, kinda. We’re, like, in the same boat, you and I,” explained Maya. “Think about it. I mean. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I was nearly charged with murder of my own sister not too long ago. There’s no way I’m emotionally ready for a serious relationship right now,” she finished, shrugging lightly.
“So...what? We write this off as a mistake and pretend it never happened?” snapped Franziska.
“I’m not saying that!” exclaimed Maya. “I’m saying we can wait it out. Take it slow, you know? Play it by ear.”
“So it’s...unofficial. No labels?”
“Not until we’re ready. Not ever, even, if you want.” Maya shrugged, one hand carefully coming to rest on her good shoulder. Franziska fell silent, and Maya gazed at her collarbones, humming softly.
"You're surprisingly placid about this whole...affair, given how...unexpected this all is." remarked Franziska, her gaze sliding to the floor.
"Franziska. Franzy. Fran. Dear. You're killing me here. I mean, I even brought you flowers!" said Maya, thoroughly unimpressed. Franziska glanced up, surprised.
"Okay, fine, I'll admit I wasn't exactly planning on finding you...the way I found you, but. It's kinda hard not to be intrigued when like, another girl your age, who by the way, is putting out insane levels of big gay energy, keeps glaring at you from across the room. It's even harder to not want to know what her deal is when she casually takes a bullet for you." said Maya.
"I wasn't aware I was being so obvious," said Franziska, dryly. "Wait, what's big gay energy?" In response, Maya gestured vaguely at Franziska.
"What I'm trying to say here is that I knew something was up. I didn't know what it was, and now that I do I'm not...mad at it," she clarified. "I mean. The worst case scenario I had was that I had misread everything and would be whipped within an inch of my life, but your whipping arm's incapacitated. So I just, well." With that, Maya got onto her tiptoes, and kissed the corner of Franziska's mouth, grinning roguishly.
Franziska blinked a few times, and in that moment, made a choice.
“I’ve decided that you deserve to be kissed more. By me." said Franziska, bluntly.
“Yup, that's big gay energy right there. See, now you have a reason to come back,” said Maya, bumping noses with her.
“It’s going to be tricky.” she breathed, melting into more kisses, quick in succession. Maya pulled away.
“I know.”
“Do you really think I’m worth all of the trouble?”
Maya kissed her again, deep and languorous. Franziska kissed back, and a low noise escaped the back of her throat, before Maya was pulling away, all too soon.
“You’re going to make a fool out of me,” whispered Franziska.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay? I expect weekly texts at least.” she teased. “Pencilled my details in your fancy leather planner and everything.”
“I don’t suppose you do this sort of thing for Phoenix Wright as well?” she asked, dryly, but the hint of doubt wasn’t lost on Maya, who snickered and shook her head.
“I know he’s saved my life more than once, but he has demons that he can only handle himself.” said Maya, cryptically.
“I see. You’re saying I need help conquering my demons.”
“Oh, Franziska. We can never conquer our demons. Only learn to live above them,” said Maya, smiling warmly at her. Franziska’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and her grip on Maya tightened.