So moe for Makoto it's funny.
Gender: Male
Location: NC, NJ, MN
Rank: Ace Attorney
Joined: Tue Feb 27, 2007 4:24 am
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Written by Musouka and CFTF for our dear Raelle's 20th birthday. Happy birthday, darling! YOU'RE OLD LIKE US NOW :P
Since we knew she had a tiiiiny weakness for the potential adorableness of the Franziska/Maya pairing, and of course had the whole NaruMitsu OTP thing... well, we decided to see if we could combine the two. Primarily a focus on the girls (and Pearl!) but with a decidedly P/E backdrop.
If you have a problem with cute fluffy sorta-romance between two girls and implied romance between two guys, just don't read.
Everyone else? Read! Enjoy! Comment!
<3
And once again,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAELLE!BeautifulPhoenix came out of the office bathroom, rolling down his sleeves and wiping his hands on a paper towel. “All right, I’m done cleaning the bathroom.”
Both Maya and Pearl looked up for a moment before going back to what they were doing: watching television. Onscreen the Steel Samurai stabbed the Evil Magistrate’s hapless minion with his spear. Sparks erupted from the evildoer’s back. Phoenix glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going, I suppose. Do you have the keys to my apartment, Maya?”
“Right here,” she replied, pulling them out from a pocket near her bow and holding them up for him to see, still riveted to the screen.
“All right, go ahead and call a taxi to take you over there when you’re done,” he said, glancing meaningfully at her share of the paperwork that still needed to be sorted and filed. “Order a pizza if you and Pearl get hungry. I…” He paused, like the words got slightly stuck in his throat. “…Might not be home this evening, so you two can have the bed instead of the fold away couch if you want.” He finished in a rush, rolling his eyes dramatically at the expected ensuing whistles and catcalls from his partner.
“Have fun!” she and Pearl called as he left.
A few moments later Pearl sighed. “It’s so romantic…”
“Really?” Maya said, reaching towards the bag of chips. The screen filled with the Steel Samurai and Pink Princess doing their combination move—created specifically for the special—against a horde of henchmen. “I don’t know if I see their relationship as
romantic…though I guess there was that one crossover episode where he got kidnapped and she had to save him, but the writer on that episode wasn’t one of the regulars, so I don’t know if I consider it
canon …”
Pearl wasn’t looking at the screen, she was staring at the door Phoenix had exited, hands cupped to the side of her flushed face. “…Oh,” Maya finished, then grinned. “Yeah, I suppose. Nick kind of wrecked the mood by cleaning the bathroom right before he left, though.”
“A date after work,” Pearl continued, getting lost in her own world. “Holding hands over a candlelight dinner, dancing, and…and then a walk on the beach to finish up!” She nodded decisively. “I wish I could see it…”
“See what?” Maya asked.
“An adult date!” Pearl said. Her eyes sparkled.
Maya doubted it was quite like Pearl’s imaginary outline, but the thought was tantalizing. The only time they ever saw Nick and Mr. Edgeworth interact was in court, or on the occasions all four of them went somewhere—and when that was the case, Maya and Pearl were usually too busy having fun to pay attention to what the other two were doing. “I wonder if they act any differently…”
“Of course they do!” Pearl said. “They must hold hands, and k-kiss, and cuddle!”
Maya bit back a laugh. It was hard to imagine either of the men doing any of those things in public. Anything was possible, though.
“Too bad
you don’t have a special someone, Mystic Maya,” Pearl said, a tinge of recrimination in her tone, “then I could hear all about it from you…”
“Sorry Pearls,” Maya said lightly, not sounding too terribly apologetic. More amused than anything else. “If it happens, it happens. And it hasn’t happened to me yet. Looks like your only option is to grill Nick about it.”
Pearl lapsed into contemplative silence, as if considering the best time to do just that.
As Maya watched her, an idea was forming. But, being the older and more responsible party, it was up to her to think about the consequences. “Or…” She considered carefully.
For approximately two seconds. “…We could always follow them!”
***
“Are you sure this is okay, Mystic Maya?” Pearl asked, staring at the inside of the taxicab from the curb as if it was the mouth of a dangerous, uncharted cave.
“Sure, don’t worry about it!” Maya replied, confident grin stretched from ear to ear. “Nick said we could take a taxi, so we are. Nick said we could order out dinner, so we are…kind of. And going to a play—that’s like going to a movie! He’s taken us to those thousands of times.” She clapped her hands together and nodded, proud of her logical thinking.
“That’s true…but…” Pearl’s thumb rested against her lower lip. The driver tapped his foot in short, impatient motions beside her.
“Nick said he was going to meet him at the Prosecutor’s Office. I don’t know where they’re going to dinner, so if we don’t get moving we’ll lose the trail.” Maya said.
“Okay…” Pearl finally acquiesced, climbing into the backseat. Maya settled in beside her. “I just don’t want to bother Mr. Nick and Mr. Edgeworth.”
“Downtown Prosecutor’s Office, please!” Maya said to the driver before turning her attention on Pearl. “Don’t worry, they won’t even know we’re there!”
***
Franziska von Karma was on her way out when her attention was caught by one of the many taxis racing past the glass doors of the front entrance slowing to a stop and discharging its cargo. Any question she had as to why anyone would be visiting the office after closing were answered when she saw exactly who was sprinting out of the cab: Maya Fey and her young cousin. It seemed to be a Fey motto to do the unexpectedly foolish at any given opportunity; hadn’t the girl ever heard of a phone?
Did something happen? she wondered, moving towards one of the doors to open it, shifting her cup of coffee to her other hand to do so. If they were looking for Phoenix Wright, they had missed him by a good ten minutes. The fool and her brother were long gone.
She heard a snatch of conversation as the taxi driver yelled towards the spirit medium. “—the fare!?”
“Bill it to the Wright and Co Law Offices!” Maya turned her head and called, not slowing her pace. It was a wonder she could run at all, considering those thick sandals she wore—the smaller one was having trouble keeping pace, especially since she turned back to give the driver an apologetic nod. Maya’s answer didn’t seem to please the man; he yelled something unseemly then got back into his cab. Franziska saw him fumbling with a pad of paper within the confines of the car.
And then she was confronted with Maya Fey face to face. It was a faint consolation to see Maya look as uneasy as Franziska felt when faced with the other girl.
“Ms. Von Karma?” she ventured. “Have Nick and Mr. Edgeworth already gone?”
Good, this was a question she could answer, then send the girl on her way and leave herself—as planned before the interruption. “Yes, they left,” Franziska said, fully intending to close the door, but the Fey girl grabbed it and—what’s more—
pushed beyond Franziska to step inside the foyer.
“What are we going to do, Pearls?” she asked her younger cousin. “I don’t know the name of the restaurant.”
“I’m sure Mr. Phoenix Wright has his cell phone. If it’s an emergency, you…can use one of the office phones,” Franziska said—quite magnanimously she thought, especially since they weren’t supposed to be in here after hours. She gestured to receptionist’s desk behind them.
“No, that won’t work,” Maya Fey said, finger tapping against her temple as she thought. “We can’t let Nick know.”
“Why not?” Franziska asked shortly, taking a small sip of her coffee. It was from a popular chain—utter swill—but it was getting her though her jet lag and she didn’t want to crash on her way back to the hotel either.
“Well,” Maya began, “Pearl wanted to see what adults do when they’re alone together—“
Franziska choked, her frame shuddering from the coughing fit.
“Are you all right, Ms. Von Karma?” Maya asked.
“I’m fine,” Franziska said as soon as she could breathe again, not knowing whether to blame the lousy coffee for suddenly congealing in her throat or the Fey girl with her inappropriate phrasing for her near accidental demise.
“We’re following Mr. Nick and Mr. Edgeworth on their date,” Pearl finally explained.
Why would anyone want to do that? Franziska thought. It had been bad enough seeing Miles wait for the man, surreptitiously checking his watch every few minutes like your average, slack-jawed fool in love.
“Stalking is a crime,” she said. “You should just give up.”
“We’re not stalking!” Maya protested. “We’re…
observing. Kind of like bird watching.”
It’s nothing like bird watching! For some reason, Franziska had trouble making her normal caustic remarks leave her mouth around this girl, they all seemed to get stuck in her throat. And, on the rare occasions she could force them past her tongue, she always wanted to take them back when confronted with the look on the spirit medium’s face. It was…irritating.
“We need to go up to Mr. Edgeworth’s office,” Maya said decisively. “He’s organized, I’m sure he wrote the name of the place down.”
“No, that’s a restricted floor,” Franziska replied. “Office personnel only.”
“Which way are the elevators?” Maya said, moving down the hallway to her left, Pearl trailing in her wake. Franziska wondered if Maya had working ears. “Oh, here they are.”
The prosecutor decided the only thing she could do was follow to make sure they didn’t get at any restricted files, destroy her brother’s office, or somehow get kidnapped along the way. Despite herself, she felt a faint twinge of pity for Phoenix Wright; this girl was practically a force of nature unto herself.
***
“Wow, so this is Mr. Edgeworth’s office…” Maya said when Franziska flipped the light switch. “It’s…about what I expected.”
“There’s a lot of pink,” Pearl added, staring at the curtains and then the framed jacket above the couch on the wall to her right. Franziska shifted, not knowing if it was a compliment or an insult. And whether or not she agreed with either sentiment. Her brother was who he was, but really…there was a lot of pink. Even those ridiculous pink and blue chess pieces; she didn’t remember those before, for some reason. At least it was offset by the beige walls and wood flooring, as to not be overpowering.
“Hey, is that the Steel Samurai?!” Maya ran over to the wide window across the way, where she momentarily seemed to forget the toy on the low shelving and instead focused on the view of the city lights. “Pearl, come look at this view, it’s amazing!”
Her smile as she turned around was so radiant Franziska found herself staring. How could someone overflow with such joy so constantly? Franziska couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled like that—if she ever had.
But Pearl seemed more interested in the bouquet of white roses next to the action figure. “Are these from Mr. Nick?” she whispered in delight, reaching for the name card. Her face fell. “Wendy? Who’s she, Mystic Maya? Mr. Edgeworth isn’t…is he?”
Maya’s smile morphed into something else entirely, a sort of embarrassed grin. “Don’t worry, Mr. Edgeworth just has a lot of…admirers. Right, Ms. Von Karma?”
Franziska wasn’t expecting to be drawn into this conversation via a tag team trade off. “Well, yes. I suppose. He’s good at his job…” she finished lamely, doing her best to face the little girl’s direct, unflinching gaze.
“Then he shouldn’t accept flowers from them,” Pearl said. “Your special someone comes first!”
Maya had already moved on. “Oooh, look, a tea set! We should make some tea!”
Franziska felt pinned to the ground by Pearl’s eyes. Was this something they taught in medium school? “Miles Edgeworth wouldn’t…cheat on Phoenix Wright,” she finally said, knowing it was true. “He only accepts them because he doesn’t want to be rude.”
Or have to get a restraining order. Luckily the younger Fey seemed to accept Franziska’s explanation, probably because she was so polite herself.
“Weren’t you looking for the name of something?” Franziska asked pointedly. Maya glanced up from where she was digging through Miles’s tea drawer. “Oh yeah, that’s right. I’ll check the desk.” Pearl began tidying up the drawer when her cousin moved on to Miles’s desk; Franziska had a feeling this was a regular occurrence.
“Found it!” Maya said triumphantly, brandishing a small slip of paper. “Just as expected of Mr. Edgeworth, he even left a telephone number!” She slipped the phone on the desk off the hook and began dialing. “Yes? I was wondering if you could give me directions? Okay, the address is…” She looked at Franziska.
Franziska rattled off a string of numbers and the street name, which Maya then repeated into the phone. While her cousin was jotting quick notes on a scrap of paper, Franziska noticed Pearl had gone over to the couch and was sitting demurely, staring at the row of cases on the other wall. “No wonder Mr. Edgeworth is always so busy,” she said, quietly appreciative.
It was true; her brother had a lot of case files. When they were both in here working, the bookcase seemed to cast a looming shadow over the entire room, reminding her of his numerous accomplishments. With a start, she realized tonight was the first time she had ever come in here and not been drawn instinctively to the rows and rows of files. The presence of the Feys had somehow made it shrink to its proper dimension, allowing her to notice the pink, the toys and flowers, the tea set, and that incredible view of the city at night.
“I’ve got it,” Maya said, interrupting Franziska’s thoughts. “Now we just need to call the taxi service and we can leave.” She smiled again, warmth suffusing her entire face. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Von Karma.”
Franziska swallowed heavily. “Just…hurry up,” she finally managed to say. “You shouldn’t be here in the first place.”
Maya dialed a different number. “Hi, yes. I need a taxi,” she began. “The downtown Prosecutor’s Office. Huh?” Her expression changed to one of confusion. “Yes, that’s what I’m wearing, why? You won’t send one? Why? Deadbeat?! No, I told him he could bill it to—“ She pulled the phone away from her ear.
“What happened?” Pearl asked.
“They hung up…” she said quietly. “They’re refusing to send one.”
“But…how are we going to get to the restaurant?” Pearl jumped up. “I-I…I’ll talk to them, Mystic Maya!”
Worry more about how you’ll get home
! Franziska thought, tapping her foot impatiently.
“I don’t think that will help, Pearls,” Maya said.
“What are we going to do?” Pearl looked close to tears. Franziska flinched; she wanted them out of the office, but that didn’t mean she wanted to watch a little girl cry about it.
Hardly believing the words were coming out of her mouth, Franziska said, “if you need a ride, I have a rental car. I would…be willing to take you home.”
Maya’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “You can
drive, Ms. Von Karma?”
“That’s amazing!” Pearl echoed, looking just as impressed.
I’ve sent countless criminals to jail, became a prosecutor at the age of thirteen, and they’re more impressed I can operate a car
? Franziska squirmed. The combined admiration of two Feys was an uncomfortable spotlight to be under.
Maya gave her a sidelong, mischievous glance. “You know…instead of taking us home, why don’t you come to the restaurant with us? I bet you haven’t eaten all day.”
She was right, but… “No, absolutely not. My offer is to take you home, not chauffer you around the city while you stalk Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth.” There, that was nice and firm. Surely even Maya Fey could understand something as simple as that.
***
“Finally!” Maya said, doing a series of stretches as she got out of the car. Some of them rather unseemly considering how short her skirt was. Franziska pointedly turned in the opposite direction—and was it warm tonight or was it just her—to inspect the restaurant’s sign. So her brother and that fool were having Italian tonight.
Maya continued from behind. “Those directions were really bad. I hope their food is better.”
“I’m a little bit hungry too,” Franziska heard Pearl admit.
“A
little hungry?” Maya said. “I think I could eat
two dinners! I’m starving.”
Don’t you usually eat two anyway? Franziska remembered the celebration dinner not too long ago when it seemed like the girl had eaten her weight in steak. But all she said was, “let’s go in and get this over with.”
***
Il Cocina was a large restaurant, and on a Friday night seemed to be quite popular, with chattering twosomes and threesomes seated all around the spacious, atmospheric room, absorbed in their food and in their conversation. Immediately after entering, the three of them were greeted by a tuxedo-clad maitre d’ who apologized in a slight Italian accent. He told them that there were no available tables at the moment—but they were just now cleaning up after a group that had just left, so if the three of them would kindly be seated, he would come get them when they were ready.
Once the host had left, Franziska noticed the two other girls scanning the restaurant in search of her brother and his… companion. She sighed to herself, wondering how exactly it was she’d ended up in this situation.
Really, she could go at any time. The prosecutor was certainly not beholden to either of them, she had made no commitments—and Wright was in this restaurant somewhere. Surely he could give the two girls money for a taxi… and if he couldn’t afford it, Franziska supposed Miles would agree to cover it for him (how foolishly sentimental of him, she thought). There was nothing keeping her here. All she had to do was bid the other two a curt farewell and walk out the door, get in her car and make her way back to the hotel she’d booked a room at. There was absolutely nothing keeping her.
…so why was she staying?
Foolish, she thought to herself chidingly.
“Oh! Pearls! There they are!” said Maya in a hushed, excited whisper, pointing a finger out into the room… sure enough, Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth were sitting at a simple table for two or three, slightly towards the rear wall of the establishment. The two of them hadn’t yet received their food, it appeared, and they were talking to pass the time.
To her side, the little girl sounded almost… disappointed. “They’re just… sitting out there in the open?”
Franziska couldn’t help but respond, “Of course. What did you expect?” The words were lacking her trademark edge.
Pearl Fey shrugged her shoulders, and thought it might have been a trick of the dim mood lighting, Franziska could have sworn she actually saw the child’s carefully arranged hairstyle…
droop. “I don’t know. I thought… they’d be off in a booth to the side where they could be by themselves and… private!”
“They’re grown men, not teenagers.” Even if the tone was more gentle than it should have been coming from her, it still felt far too harsh the moment the words had escaped her lips—though Franziska was spared Pearl’s reaction as the little girl gasped with realization.
“Mystic Maya! If… if they looked over here, they could see us!”
Realizing the truth in her cousin’s words, Maya moved quickly, snatching a trio of menus from a rack next to the chairs they were resting in. Before Franziska really knew what was happening, she found one of the menus hastily thrust into her arms. Blinking in confusion, she saw that the two Fey girls had held the menus up in front of their faces in an
entirely conspicuous manner.
Maya lowered the menu just enough so that she could whisper over Pearl’s head to the other teenager, “Psst! Franziska! Hide yourself!”
It was foolish. It was
unbelievably foolish. Not only did the two men not seem to be inclined to look over at them at all, but what use was it in hiding your face when you were wearing clothes like
that? It was one of the silliest, most nonsensical things she’d heard in a very long time—so it was understandable that she felt her face flush in embarrassment as her arms moved independently of her mind to comply with the other girl’s request.
And when exactly had she become
Franziska? ***
The maitre d’ finally returned to show them to their seat—a booth on the side, with a large potted plant nearby that blocked half of the restaurant from view. Maya and Pearl sat on one side of the booth to have a better view of the two men, while Franziska sat opposite them closer to the plant (and found the constant green in her peripheral vision slightly distracting).
The waiter was along shortly, a handsome young man in a suit. As they’d been waiting, Franziska had felt the familiar rumble in her stomach—she was actually fairly hungry. She was here anyway, so she might as well make the best of it. He looked at the three of them expectantly, and the young prosecutor noted he had no pen or paper—this was, after all, a fairly up-scale restaurant.
Disappointed to see that this restaurant did not, in fact, serve hamburgers (
why would they serve hamburgers if it’s Italian…?), Maya decided to make good on her earlier promise and order both a plate of lasagna and a serving of some fancy-named ziti. Meanwhile, Pearl, clearly overwhelmed by all the choices on the menu, eventually settled (with some help from Maya) at just a simple plate of spaghetti with meatballs. The meatballs, of course, would undoubtedly be pilfered by the older Fey, Franziska thought to herself.
It almost made her jealous. To be able to sit with her cousin, whisper conspiratorially with the smaller girl while sneaking glances at the two they were trailing… to be able to just do silly things like order two dinners and steal a friend’s meatballs. It was incredibly foolish and incredibly juvenile, and yet she still had to hold her menu up a little bit higher to hide the flush on her cheeks. That flush only deepened when Maya, catching her eye in the middle of her conversation with her cousin, smiled across the table at her.
Thankfully, the waiter was now looking at her with an expectant look on his face, so she could mercifully put such things from her mind. “I’ll have the
spaghetti alla carbonara … make it a small serving,” she added, knowing how much food American restaurants tended to give their customers.
He nodded and took their menus—and Franziska looked back at the table to see the younger Fey staring at her, agape. Somewhat nonplussed by the awestruck look on Pearl’s young face, Franziska found herself at a loss for words, blinking and trying to say something but finding that nothing would actually come out.
“You… you can speak Italian, Miss von Karma?”
Seated beside Pearl, Maya shook her head, looking down at her cousin and explaining, “No, Pearls… it’s just the name of a sort of food, it doesn’t mean she speaks Italian!”
“Actually,” Franziska interjected, causing both of the girls to look up at her. “I
do speak Italian.” Maya’s eyes widened a bit to match Pearl’s. Feeling the familiar confidence-bordering-on-smugness that laced every word she spoke in court (but had been strangely absent all that night for some bizarre reason) slowly start to return, Franziska smirked and continued, “I also speak French and Japanese fluently. And German, of course.”
If Pearl’s eyes had been large before, they were saucer-sized now. Maya looked equally as impressed. “Wow… that’s amazing!” said the older of the two, a clearly admiring tone in her voice. “I mean… we’re the same age, and I can only speak English,” she looked sheepish. “I knew you were smart from what Mr. Edgeworth said, but… I didn’t know you were
that smart!”
Franziska tried to play the compliment off coolly, but she hoped that the dim light of the restaurant didn’t show the flush now returning to her face. “There are a lot of things it seems you don’t know about me,” said the young prosecutor, determined to find her rhythm once more.
“So tell us.”
It was a simple and earnest not-quite-request from the girl who sat across the table from her, a warm smile on her face so genuine and
real and maybe even just a little bit teasing…?
“Wh-what?” Any trace of her confident rhythm had disappeared as she sat in the booth in this crowded Italian restaurant with this annoyingly persistent, foolish girl across from her
smiling at her.
Maya’s gaze never moved from Franziska’s face. “So. Tell. Us. Something. About. Yourself,” she laughed softly, that warm smile still burning Franziska’s cheeks.
“I… I just told you that I spoke—”
She was cut off by a wave of Maya’s finger. “Nuh-uh! You told us that one already! Something
else!”
For someone whose career revolved around choosing the precise words and phrases necessary to prove her point, Franziska found herself gaping speechlessly in a quite undignified manner.
***
Though the spirit medium kept trying to pry more and more information out of the mouth of the increasingly flustered prosecutor, her relentless yet quite friendly and cheerful assault was mercifully interrupted by the arrival of the young waiter with four plates of food. Welcoming the diversion gladly, Franziska began picking at her food, taking a small bite of the pasta. It was certainly good—of course, she’d never thought for even a second that her brother would bring someone to a substandard restaurant, so that wasn’t surprising.
Across the table, Pearl seemed to be enjoying her meal as well, though the little girl was eating slowly and neatly, taking tiny bites and chewing them thoroughly before swallowing. Maya, on the other hand, seemed to be all but devouring the food that had been placed in front of her—and Franziska couldn’t help but stare in part disbelief and part awe. How she managed to eat so ravenously but not get so much of a fleck of sauce on her clothes or the tablecloth was beyond the prosecutor.
As Maya consumed her pasta, Pearl leaned out over the side of the booth, ostensibly checking on Miles and his date. When she returned her attention to the table, she seemed downcast, and once again Franziska could have sworn her tightly looped hair was emulating her emotions and drooping. “They’re just… talking and eating,” she said, disappointment evident in her voice.
Franziska risked a glance past the greenery. Wright said something that made a smile ghost across her brother’s face. She hurriedly turned back to eating, feeling like a voyeur. No, it wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was…
personal. “Booooring,” Maya intoned, stretching her arms behind her head. “I thought at least Mr. Edgeworth would do something interesting, but they’re both acting like a couple of old farts.”
“Of course they are. What do you expect?” Franziska responded, pausing to take another small bite of her
spaghetti alla carbonara, chew, and swallow. “They’re adults—that’s what they do on… on dates. They talk.”
Pearl’s mood (and hair) seemed to perk up. “Oh! So... Miss von Karma, what do
you do on an adult date then?”
Franziska blinked and then hurriedly tried to backpedal. “Er… that is… I don’t really have… much
time to… pursue a relationship with somebody. My work is far too demanding.” She noticed Maya looking up at her too, even as the other girl stealthily speared one of Pearl’s meatballs with her fork. “Even if I were interested in it,” she added almost as an afterthought.
The little girl across from her seemed to wilt again. “So… so you don’t have a special someone, then?” For some reason, she seemed even more disappointed than she’d been to discover that Miles and Phoenix were merely chatting—though why that was, Franziska had no idea.
A special someone? Miles was hugely important to her—though that obviously wasn’t what this child meant. A silly, juvenile concept, to be sure… but the way Pearl Fey had said it with such earnestness and hope? There was something that
twinged inside her chest for a brief moment… but then it was gone.
“I’ve… actually never been on a date before,” the prosecutor admitted at last. She’d seen the glint of curiosity in Maya Fey’s eyes and had been determined to, at the very least, beat her to the punch.
Taking a break from her meal, Maya simply smiled at her. “Aw, don’t feel bad, I’ve never been on a date either!” Something flashed behind her eyes—a spark of realization, perhaps?—and she said, slowly, “Well… I mean, I guess… this is kind of like a date, isn’t it? We’re at a fancy restaurant, eating dinner. We’re eating and talking like they are over there,” she indicated the direction of Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright with a nod of her head.
“So… this can be both of our first dates!” she concluded triumphantly, that vexing and endearing smile once more firmly on her face.
For what seemed like the umpteenth time tonight, Franziska was speechless.
***
Maya had long finished her dinner and both Franziska and Pearl were drawing close, when the little girl looked over at the two men they’d come here to observe, and suddenly gasped, holding a small hand to her mouth. “Mystic Maya… they’re getting ready to leave!” she said in a hurried, excited whisper. Reflexively, Franziska turned to look over her shoulder without thinking—sure enough, both the men were just now taking what were obviously separate checks from their waiter.
“They split the bill?” Maya said, “Is this even a date?”
Franziska had to wonder the same thing as Maya turned back to her cousin, especially when she saw Wright look at the receipt and wince. Miles glanced over at him but didn’t say anything; Wright dug his credit card out of his wallet with a sigh. Perhaps it was because that noisy table next to them had just left, but she heard snatches of their conversation.
“…client paid, you can afford it,” her brother said.
The beginning of Wright’s reply was lost, but she clearly heard, “…but…didn’t want to spent it all in
one night …”
Fools, she thought.
“We need to follow them!” continued Pearl in the same low whisper. Franziska sighed inwardly. This was the first high-quality meal she’d had in days amidst her work and travel to the States, and even being peppered with questions by the older girl sitting across from her… well, there was a part of her that she found had actually almost enjoyed the company.
For whatever reason, finding herself utterly unable to muster the full force of her razor tongue against the pair that had dragged her along on their little excursion—and without that to fall back on, Franziska had resolved to buckle down and weather the storm. To her surprise, in the end… it hadn’t actually been that bad. Puerile and immature though it was, the…
levity that Pearl Fey and especially her older cousin seemed to surround themselves with was unexpectedly—refreshing, in a way.
An oddly reluctant expression crossed Maya’s face (albeit for the briefest of moments) before she nodded emphatically. “Right! We can’t lose their trail!” She shook her head, looking across the table at Franziska, the same sheepish smile on her face. “I was actually sorta enjoying the dinner,” she said, but simultaneously was waving the waiter over, motioning for their own bills.
Enjoying the dinner? You finished yours fifteen minutes ago! Since finishing her own meal, the only thing Maya had really been doing had been talking to the young prosecutor and asking her the sort of mildly-irritating questions she’d been asking all night. Odd that she would say that, then… still, it was no matter.
“Hmm… I don’t remember seeing prices on the menu,” began the black-haired girl, a thoughtful expression on her face. “That was weird, come to think of it. It can’t be
that much, can it? I mean—it’s only Italian! Even if it
was really good.”
Franziska blanched. Had they never eaten at a place like this before? The old saying, “If you have to ask how much it is, you can’t afford it” held true even in the culinary industry. Naturally, with her job, it would certainly be well within Franziska’s budget range to pay for her own meal… but as Maya started counting what looked like crumpled single-dollar bills she’d pulled out of her pocket, it became quite clear that the other two were very much
not prepared.
She had just opened her mouth to inform them of that fact when the waiter appeared beside the table carrying two separate black leather folders, one of which he gave to Franziska, and the other of which he set in front of Maya and Pearl.
Separate checks, then? Glancing at the slip of paper contained within, Franziska’s eyebrows rose the slightest of rises in surprise. Not that she couldn’t easily afford it, of course, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite
that expensive. Then again, it was ludicrous to expect Miles Edgeworth to take someone he was… involved with to anything less than the highest-class of restaurants.
Across the table, Maya’s face was noticeably paler, and the young Pearl looked like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment. Sniffling, Pearl reached into the pockets of the robe she was wearing and pulled out a few neatly folded bills. “I… I have fifteen dollars from my allowance,” she said, “will that…?” Her face fell after she looked at their own bill again, and it became apparent to Franziska that the little girl’s contribution wouldn’t be
nearly enough. Still, what business was it of hers if two fools came to such an expensive restaurant unprepared to pay their way?
“Do… do you think they’ll make us wash dishes, M-Mystic Maya?” Pearl asked of her cousin, who up until then hadn’t actually said a word—truly a first, thought Franziska. “I can wash dishes!”
Maya gave a little shrug, and laughed softly, the color returning to her face after the initial shock. “We’d have to wash a
lot of dishes!” though she was clearly still concerned, it looked like she was rebounding rather quickly. “I guess that’s what will happen, though.”
“Actually, at an expensive place like this, I doubt they’d trust their dinnerware in the hands of two children,” answered Franziska matter-of-factly. “It’s far more likely that they’ll just call the police. She’s a minor, so they won’t do anything to her, but they’ll probably want to take you in,” she tilted her head at Maya, “before they decide whether or not they want to press charges.”
She’d only been half-serious, but to her surprise, the cheerful aura that had now returned to the young medium didn’t falter a bit. “Well, at least that’d be sorta familiar!” She chuckled softly.
Exactly how
many times has she been in trouble with the law? The question ran through Franziska’s mind as she briefly recalled the calamitous incident that had been her first trial in America… though she pushed those unpleasant memories away as quickly as they’d come.
Why isn’t she concerned? Depending on the restaurant, the police could
very well get involved! To Maya’s side, Pearl seemed even closer to breaking into tears—obviously, Franziska’s comment had worried her far more than it had her cousin. She reached out to grab at the loose sleeve of Maya’s outfit, shaking her head. “But… b-but… they
can’t just take Mystic M-Maya away like that… c-can they?”
Something twinged within Franziska at the little girl’s distress. In that moment, she also
understood why Maya had simply laughed and smiled. Even if it had only been a little bit… it appeared that Franziska von Karma had underestimated Maya Fey.
As she saw the waiter approaching their table to collect the bills, Franziska gave a mental shrug. Really, it wasn’t her problem by any stretch of the matter, and the worst that could happen probably
would only be dish-washing. Even though she could cover it easily, it wasn’t her problem, and it certainly wasn’t her responsibility.
So why was she reaching into her purse to get her credit card?
***
The other girl hadn’t said anything other than a simple, painfully-earnest “Thank you,” and yet it still made her ears turn red.
“Don’t mention it,” said Franziska curtly as the three of them walked down the brightly-lit city street. She meant it—while even she had her moments of foolish sentimentality, she didn’t want to be reminded of them too often.
The trio had left only minutes after Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright, and the two men were visible in the distance ahead of them, walking down the street together into what appeared to be some sort of shopping center. They weren’t talking—in fact, Wright was looking at the cars racing by on his left, and Miles seemed to be inspecting the buildings up ahead—but Franziska couldn’t help but notice how the two remained naturally, perfectly in step with one another.
With the restaurant crisis taken care of, Pearl had determinedly returned to the trail, and it was she who led the way. The two Fey girls had known that after dinner, Miles and Wright were planning on seeing a play—though they faltered for a moment as they realized neither of them knew what play they were seeing, or where.
Luckily, the theater appeared to be within walking distance, and so Pearl doggedly followed the trail, Maya right behind her and a reluctant Franziska bringing up the rear. It was unclear why she was still there, really—but with the Fey girl’s propensity to land herself in trouble, it was probably for the best that someone who actually knew the meaning of the word ‘responsibility’ stay around and make sure nobody ended up hospitalized.
They passed a billboard for a nearby theater that advertised a local (no names that Franziska recognized) production of “Hamlet,” and Pearl and Maya conferred if that was, in fact, where Phoenix and Miles were headed. “Miles… did tell me that he was going to see some Shakespeare with Wright,” confirmed Franziska. “So it’s probable that they’re headed there.”
“Local”, huh? I suppose this was Wright’s contribution to the date. Maya made a face. “Shakespeare? That must have been Mr. Edgeworth’s idea. It’s kinda dull and boring, don’t you think?”
Franziska arched a blue-gray eyebrow; Miles had made it sound like it was Wright’s idea. Well, either way. She wasn’t much of a fan of classical theatre or poetry herself, but she could certainly recognize that the Bard was famous for a reason. “Oh? And what would
you take a date to see?” retorted the prosecutor, curious as to what juvenile pastime would be the response.
The other girl shrugged as they continued to walk. “I dunno… never really thought about it much. I guess we could go to the movies. Or, if we
had to go to a play or something… they’re actually making a Steel Samurai stage show! We could go see that! It’d be awesome!” She turned, beaming back at Franziska. “Doesn’t that sound
so much more interesting?”
Maya’s exuberance was almost overwhelming, and Franziska could tell that they’d come to a subject that the spirit medium was exceedingly fond of. “Steel Samurai” sounded familiar, though. Slowing her stride in confusion but not quite stopping, Franziska tried to remember what she knew about it. “Steel Samurai,” she repeated, “…the children’s show? With that murderer Engarde?”
Apparently, she’d hit a nerve, because Maya shook her head furiously. “No, no, no! That was the
Nickel Samurai, which was the sequel spin-off! It wasn’t
nearly as good as the original! The first show won
loads of awards for its great writing and action choreography,” she said, holding up a finger for emphasis. “And even though The Nickel Samurai was also acclaimed, it’s pretty much unanimously considered inferior to the Steel saga.”
“Besides, it’s
hardly a ‘children’s show,’” Maya continued passionately, shaking her head. “Actually, there were tons of viewers over the age of twenty-five, according to its ratings! And they’re actually
still making TV specials and stuff today! They haven’t done anything like that for the Nickel Samurai, you know.” The medium paused in her diatribe, allowing, “Well, I suppose having your star in prison also sorta doesn’t help.”
Franziska blinked, a tad nonplussed by the sheer fervor Hurricane Maya had unleashed. “So… yeah,” Maya continued after a pause, cheerfully wagging a finger and grinning at the prosecutor. “You should know about these things! I mean… everyone our age does!”
It was on the tip of her tongue to retort that Franziska had been much too busy being a lawyer to have time for such trivial pursuits, and that costumed hero shows were
obviously for children around her cousin’s age, no matter what the ratings said. But then she wondered which was truly more pathetic: being stuck in a perpetual childhood or having never experienced one to begin with.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
***
They were definitely entering a major shopping area right now, and all around them the crowds grew thicker and busier. Still, even though it was difficult to keep track of the two men in front of them, the two girls actually seemed to be slowing down. Franziska tried to keep the two men within eyesight, even as their pace slowed to a crawl.
Just as she was about to look back and ask what happened, she felt a warm hand clasp hers. Instinctively, she snatched it out of the loose grip, only to meet Maya’s wide, almost frightened gaze. For a second, Franziska had to wonder what she looked like, reflected in those eyes—that a mere touch could cause such a violent reaction. Something in her chest seemed to jerk painfully.
“I-I’m sorry,” Maya said, uncharacteristically quiet. “I just…”
“What is it?” Being harsh to cover her discomfort didn’t work this time, even Franziska flinched at how pointed she sounded.
“Pearl’s getting tired,” Maya explained. Looking at the younger girl, Franziska could tell it was true. She was shuffling like her feet were too heavy to pick up off the ground, and it seemed the only thing keeping her upright was the grip she had on Maya’s other hand. “So I thought maybe we could sit down over there for a few minutes. You were moving so fast, I didn’t want to lose you.”
Maya motioned to a shop off to the side, out of the main pathway. Turning around before following the Feys, Franziska caught one final glimpse of Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright—Wright seemed to be taking Miles’s hand in his; she saw Miles’s arm stiffen slightly, then relax—before they disappeared behind the sea of people.
Now that they were out of the main crowd, Pearl followed her cousin’s path and sat down on the little staircase outside the shop. When Franziska sat down beside her—the stoop was probably going to get her skirt filthy, but even Franziska had to admit these heels weren’t fun to walk in—the little girl leaned against her almost instantly, breathing deepening.
It was uncomfortable.
But Franziska didn’t push her away. And, in response, Maya’s face lightened once more. Strangely, it suddenly brought to mind that feeling Franziska sometimes got when she left the courthouse and walked out into the afternoon sun. That reminder that there was an entire world beyond those walls, even if she never took advantage of it.
Instead of sitting beside them, Maya turned to inspect the store window. It was a small shop, not the type Franziska ever frequented. The clothing inside seemed to be aimed at teenage girls, a mixture of blue jeans, light summer dresses, and halter tops. Maya leaned closer, splayed hands against the glass—
You’re going to leave prints, Franziska inwardly admonished—before turning to the prosecutor. ‘Let’s go inside!”
Thoroughly baffled, and slightly irked, Franziska pointed in the direction she’d last seen her brother and his companion. “Aren’t you going to follow Wright?” she demanded. Pearl shifted beside her. “Isn’t that the sole reason for this entire excursion?”
With a wave of her hand, Maya dismissed the other girl’s question. “Don’t worry about it! We know exactly where they’re going, right? To that theater to watch old guys jump around in silly costumes and say things nobody really understands anyway. We can meet them there!”
This time, Franziska refused to simply just cave in. “I drove you two here, I paid for your dinner for some
unfathomable reason… do you
honestly expect me to buy you new clothes, too?” That was taking it too far. She’d put up with quite enough tonight, it was time for it to stop. She’d almost been… enjoying herself, but this? This was absolutely too much. Pearl sat up, awake now. Her hands twisted nervously in her lap and her gaze darted back and forth between her cousin and Franziska.
Despite Franziska’s very real ire, the smile never left Maya’s face—though it softened, and there was almost a look of…
caring? in her eyes that suddenly threw the prosecutor off balance once again. “You did. Do all of that, I mean… and I really… I can’t thank you enough, Franziska.” She shook her head. “I… actually thought that maybe you would just like to… look at some of these shops. We wouldn’t actually
buy anything… just, y’know… shop.” Maya shrugged, looking down at the ground.
The momentum to her anger had plummeted, and once more, Franziska von Karma found herself at a loss for words. If you weren’t going to buy anything, what was the point in shopping in the first place? “What… why would I want to do something like
that?” she managed, trying to force the anger but finding it just wouldn’t come.
Maya looked up at her, smiled softly—there was something else there now, for the first time an almost melancholy air to the expression—and shrugged. “I dunno… because it’s fun?”
Franziska blinked. Fun? With
her? She couldn’t understand it; the only reason she was here in the first place was obviously as a chauffer and credit card. When had “having fun”
together suddenly become an issue?
“I guess… I guess we can just go home, if you want,” Maya continued. “But I was just thinking…I bet you’d look really cute in some of those outfits.”
In a night filled with questions and statements Franziska hadn’t been expecting, that somehow seemed the most unexpected of all. “Wh-what?” Franziska stuttered.
Maya Fey tilted her head to the side, a touch of playfulness added to her grin. “Um, in case you haven’t noticed, Franziska… you’re beautiful. You really should wear something other than that same old outfit every day!” She shook her head. “I just thought that since you’re always so concerned with your job and all that serious stuff like Mr. Edgeworth is… maybe, for once, you’d just like to do something different,” she added.
Behind her, she could hear the noise of a constant stream of people walking past, chattering loudly, though for a moment the din seemed to subside. Nothing about Maya Fey made sense. Not her ever-present smile, not the way she seemed to cheerfully breeze through life, not her juvenile taste in entertainment or her ravenous appetite. Not the way she shrugged difficulties off and easily rebounded, not her puerile and sentimental look on life. It was incomprehensible.
For a moment, though, Franziska wondered to herself if it really mattered. Incomprehensible, yes, but… almost… enjoyable? Infectious, even. There was something striking in how she spoke, how she laughed, how she danced through life in a manner that simply didn’t make sense to the young prosecutor.
Nobody had ever called her beautiful before. Not her subordinates, certainly not Papa, not even her brother. It was a strange word directed at her, and much like the girl who had said it… it didn’t make sense.
None of it made sense, but for the briefest of heartbeats, Franziska found herself realizing that there was a part of her that really didn’t care.
***
She drove them home, following the directions Maya gave her to reach a small apartment building that was apparently where Phoenix Wright lived, where they were staying that night. After parking the car against the curb in front of the building, Franziska got out and helped Maya pull a very-much-asleep Pearl from the back seat onto her cousin’s back. There was an indent on the mound of brand-new clothing where she’d been resting her head.
“You can get inside his apartment, then?” Franziska shifted slightly, trying to ignore the strange flutter she’d been feeling in her stomach for a while now. “You don’t need any help carrying her there?”
Maya adjusted her balance, making sure Pearl was positioned securely enough on her back. “Yeah, Nick gave me the key. We’ll be fine! You sure you know how to get back to your hotel from here?”
Franziska nodded in response, and the two stood together in silence for a few long moments before Maya spoke again. “Well… I mean, I guess there were some parts of that that were
kinda like a date... right?”
“…there were,” nodded Franziska again, suddenly feeling her face grow hot, which she was sure was noticeable even in the dim light of a half-working street lamp. “I suppose.”
There was silence again. Once more, Maya was the one to break it. “I… had a really good time, Franziska.” A long pause. “Maybe… we could do this again next week?” she began hesitantly, “You know, without the whole ‘following two boring old guys’ thing. We could… we could maybe go do something fun! Something… like…” she trailed off briefly. “Next Friday, maybe? I don’t have anything planned.”
“…I work Fridays,” said Franziska firmly with a shake of her head. “I’ll be prosecuting a case.”
Though the dim light made it difficult to see Maya’s face, the disappointment was evident in her voice. “Oh. I… I see.”
Neither of them spoke.
At last, the prosecutor ventured, hesitantly, “The trial should be done by six, though.”
Overhead, the clouds parted slightly, letting just enough moonlight through to clearly illuminate the beaming smile on Maya’s face. “Great! Then… it’s a date?”
While it wasn’t nearly as omnipresent or contagious as Maya’s, Franziska couldn’t help but feel a smile tugging at the corners of her own mouth. “I suppose it is.”
There was the soft pat of sandal on pavement as Maya stepped forward, leaned in, and ever-so-gently pressed her lips to Franziska’s cheek. As she pulled back, there was, for once, a clearly evident blush on her face—and Franziska could feel a matching flush on hers, every muscle in her body suddenly tense.
“Good night, Franziska,” said Maya softly, with
that smile on her lips… before she hefted Pearl on her back, turned, and went into the apartment building, leaving a confused but not entirely unhappy Franziska on the street.
Fin.

(Awesome sig art by Axl99!)