XxMoonlightCharmxX: I love this pairing so I wrote this. The plot… is a bit old and all, but I think it'd make for a good one. Of course, the Lang and Franziska aren't really much in character, but it's not like they're pretty easy to write…
Disclaimer: Both Lang and Franziska belong to Capcom.
Franziska hiccupped, the taste of digested Bacardi rolling up on to her tongue. She grimaced and chose to ignore the taste by slugging back another full drink. The bar was full of noisy sounds and even noisier people, smoke and exotic smells floating about in the air. There were so many lights around her, all of them bright and she moaned low in her throat, lowering her head.
She was about to set it on the edge of the bar when she saw how filthy it was and opted instead to fold her arms over top, resting her head on her arms. At least the skin was nice and cool, lord knew she needed some kind of relief. Her head was spinning and her skin felt hot, her throat dry from too much alcohol.
Unexpected tears welled up as a particular memory floated to mind. stomach rolled and she whimpered, tears filling her eyes. She brushed them aside and wished at this moment that she would just disappear. Not so much die as expire. Fall apart, cease to be. A group of people rushed past her bar stool, some of them brushing too close to her back and she thought of sitting up, turning to face them and tell them off but she found she didn't have the strength to. She was too miserable, too drunk, and too deeply rooted in her misery. Or was it self-pity?
Franziska couldn't think about that, it was much too difficult when she heard a familiar voice behind her, "Hey sis, I finally found you here."
She slowly raised her head, the sound of the deep voice drawing her from her stupor, she said his name once but it was much too low so she repeated it, "Agent Lang?"
Shi-Long Lang was leaning over Franziska's slumped back, his eyes on her broken image but hearing his name made him take a step back, a she noticed him staring at her. "Sis,"
"Yes it's me," She whispered, her voice slurred as she propped her head up on her hand, looking at him from a tilted point of view, "What are you doing here?"
Lang looked down at her, noting the glaze over her eyes from shed tears as well as alcohol and frowned, concerned, "I'm here for you. You had been missing out on work and I was told this was where you went."
"I hadn't been missing out on work, I… was taking a little break." Franziska said and had sat up a little, turning in her seat to look behind her. She tried to adjust herself, in the hopes to dispel those little inklings of imperfection on herself. She had been amongst a hodge-podge of society's worst individuals, so she atleast wanted to be told apart from them. But of course,
She looked like a mess.
Her hair tangled, her clothes askew. It was obvious she had had too much to drink and the look on her face…
It was like someone had literally broken her. While he and Franziska had never been close he had spent some time with her and he found he couldn't let her just sit alone by herself when she was in such a state. It was unconscionable.
Franziska turned and looked at him, his face blurred in her vision. All she could see was a flash of his skin and those clear eyes, she glowered at him, "But why would you care? You have heard everything they say about me. And you also know that they're true."
"What things," Lang asked softly, watching as Franziska bopped around her seat drunkenly. He took hold of her shoulder to keep her from moving about, "Sis, what things?"
"Me being a spoiled brat. I mean, papa always told me when I was young that I would be perfect and I always believed him. He always pressured me on my studies and never bothered to grant me a single break from it. No one was friend back then, no – no one wanted to be my friend back then. Yet everyone around me thinks that I had a good childhood and that I always had everything I wanted, but it was never like that! Papa used to work me to the bone, tossing legal books at my face. I tried to please him and became a prosecutor at thirteen to prove myself, but…"
Franziska shook her head, releasing her hair to let her hands rest in front of her again, lights swimming before her eyes again, "What am I talking about?"
"Sis…" Lang whispered softly and let the hand resting on her shoulder move down to her back, rubbing it soothingly.
Franziska let out a pleased purr at that and faced Lang again, a sloppy grin on her face, "That… feels nice. D-do that again."
"No problem," Lang chuckled softly.
Franziska's eyes closed and a few hot tears squeezed out, "I meant that when I tried to please papa, he told me that I… that I was imperfect…"
She twisted her hands, feeling herself close to shattering. Hysteria began to reach out and grab her by the throat. She pulled back from Lang, her hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair again but this time tugging it sharply, her eyes squeezing closed tighter as she drew in closer to herself, "I… tried and I tried… but he never said anything!"
Lang watched as she began to rock back and forth and he pushed forward, taking her into his arms, resting her head against his chest, "It's alright, sis. I didn't to bring up those painful memories. Now come on, I'll drive you home."
"Ohhh Lang, I don't even know you that well. I don't want to trouble you." she gasped.
"It's no problem," He assured her, "No problem at all."
His sentence earned a smile out of Franziska. Not one of those evil, icy ones that she usually made in court, but an unseen heart-warming one.
Lang decided to gently collect up Franziska and steadily walk her outside. As they were walking, Franziska felt her body rubbing against his with each movement. She felt like she was practically humping him but his body felt so wonderful against her own, especially now, when her entire being was so fuzzy with drink. Not to mention the sweet smell of him and the strength, the power. God, she enjoyed having a man to be with.
It made her think of her loneliness in her childhood and her eyes welled up again. At that time, she felt as if she had been thrown in to desolation from the world, no one bothering to take her out of it. Her father had always admired her "little brother" Miles Edgeworth and treated her like she hadn't even existed. For years, she had to stoically live in his shadow. Others had never cared about how she felt and always thought of her as a spoiled brat, and frankly, that's what she was.
It took a her a few minutes to realize she had been airing these thoughts aloud as Lang answered her, "You're not a spoiled brat, you're a mature young woman now."
"But it's just my father…" she whispered, a fresh batch of tears forming, "I wanted him to be proud of me. So desperately I wanted… just acceptance and I thought, maybe if I do this enough times, maybe if I give it my all he'll just… turn around and…. and…"
"It's okay. That's all over now," Lang assured her, having a hard time controlling her. He was trying to walk them to his car but she kept squirming in his grip. He tried to hold her more firmly, tucking her head under his chin. Her arms came up around him suddenly, hugging him tightly and he sighed as he stopped walking for a moment, allowing her to rub her cheek against his chest.
"You're very… kind," She said, her voice rising on a high octave of surprise towards the end and Lang couldn't help but smirk, "Well, you never did get a chance to know me all too well. I never was just a big bad wolf."
"Yes, I can see that." She mumbled, then nibbled her lower lip between her teeth, "Agent Lang, why did you help me anyway?"
Lang shrugged, "You were in trouble, it seemed only natural to help."
"Hmm?" She asked and yawned abruptly, then said, "You're trying to save my soul? I hadn't known you had been so religious…"
Lang sighed, shaking his head, most people asked him this now when he offered a helping hand. It was slightly irritating but he understood it and therefore easily brushed it off, "Not really. I'm just helping a friend."
"'Friend'?" She repeated incredulously, her face evidencing slight anger, "I don't have any friends."
Lang felt another wave of tenderness for her and found his own hands coming up, hugging her back, "You do now."
"It feels so good," She mumbled, burrowing deeper into his arms.
Lang swallowed, enjoying that sensation a lot more than he would care to admit, "… I'll take you back to your home now."
"No," she moaned low in her throat, "I… I want to stay here with you."
"I'm going to come with you, sis."
Franziska shook her head, "But my car is…"
"You can get it tomorrow. You can't drive now, you're too…I'll take care of you," he promised.
"That's quite helpful of you. Agent Lang?"
"Yes?"
"I think…I think I can't walk."
The Interpol Agent sighed and reached down, picking the young prosecutor up in his arms, he carried her to his car and maneuvered her into the passenger side. The moment she hit the seat she was out like a light. He shook his head in amusement and went to his side, starting up the car and pulling out of the bar's parking lot.
It had taken numerous cell phone calls before Lang managed to find out where Franziska was staying. The hardest one was to Miles Edgeworth, as he had a hard time convincing him that he hadn't planned on causing any kind of molestation to Franziska. It also took a lot of effort to get Franziska to give her keys to him, in order to open the door that led to her house. But they had finally both entered her home, as she was still in his arms.
She was wavering in and out of consciousness, lolling now and then in her drunken state and as the elevator rocketed upwards he felt her lean in close to him, her breath on his neck, as she kept whispering over and over, "You're really nice,"
Her lips began to brush along the skin of his throat. Lang swallowed, trying to ignore it but soon enough he felt the silky brush of her tongue, her mouth opening to suck at his pulse point in a kiss that seared him straight to the center of his body. A choked sound erupted out of him as he turned to her and took hold of her arms gently, trying to sound firm, "Sis, stop, you don't know what you're doing."
Taking his tone the wrong way, her eyes began to water, "I'm… s-sorry…"
Lang tried not to roll his eyes, upset that he had hurt her unintentionally, "No, it's okay, it's just…"
"I can't stop making matters worse for myself, can I? That must the curse of being a brat." She whimpered, her head bowed in shame.
"You're not a brat," Lang repeated and decided to escort her into her room before their conversation would turn to an altercation. He escorted her out cautiously, easing her down to her room. He unlocked the door and they both entered her room. Lang's eyes widened at the devastation before him. Obviously Franziska had hit her room before going to the bar. It was in complete shambles, objects scattered everywhere, broken glass littered about. He had no doubt she would be paying for the extensive damage.
Franziska merely looked at it and let out a puff of air, "This is how I left it, before I went drinking. I was… angry."
"I can tell," Lang muttered and shut the front door behind him, "I think I'll help you get ready for bed."
Franziska blinked at him, "Okay."
She immediately grabbed the buttons of her vest, undoing them and tossing it at the floor. Then her hands went to undo the ones of her blouse, as Lang turned around, his eyes widening and face red. "That wasn't what I meant."
"Why not?" Franziska bit out; "I don't mean anything to you… do I?"
Lang groaned, a hand wiping his face in frustration, "Sis, it's nothing like that. And since I don't like to repeat myself, just change and I'll help you get ready for bed."
Franziska didn't answer, instead all Lang heard was her moving about quietly and then the sound of the bathroom door shutting, he looked upward at heaven as if for strength and then scowled at himself. He shouldn't have been so harsh. She had been through a lot.
Still, his body was humming, had been since she'd brushed her body against his in the bar's parking lot. It had been much, much too long since he'd ever been that close to a woman and Franziska was looking mighty tempting.
But considering all that had happened to her as of late he didn't want to take advantage of her, capitalize on her situation. Not to consider how highly inappropriate it would be to do anything sexual in nature considering what she was currently struggling with. He began to clean up the room in order to distract himself when he heard the door open and Franziska emerged in a long cotton nightgown.
Franziska's lips quirked to one side, "I decided to wear a non-revealing night gown since you made it abundantly clear that you didn't want to…"
She tumbled all over the word ' abundantly' before she got it out and by the time she did Lang already knew what she was saying and he walked over to her, placing his hands softly on her shoulders, his fingers massaging her skin, "Franziska, you don't understand… it's not that I don't want to…"
"Then why…?" Franziska asked with big wet eyes.
"Because I know what you're struggling with. Your father… he never appreciated you. He worked you all your life for his own selfish reasons. He made you a prosecutor for himself, not you. He worked you to the bone for years and left you in loneliness."
"You're my friend and I promise I'll take care of you, just like I did tonight. I know he hurt you and I'm sorry for the things he made you do but forget him. He's wasn't worth it. If he didn't love you and accept you for who you are, if he never give you the unconditional love you deserved, than he was a fool."
"I'm not a fool, Sis. I'll give you those things and I'll give them to you under no conditions. Don't you see? All the things you've been through, that you're relishing on, it's over now. There's light at the end of the tunnel now. You've reached the end now. You're free."
Franziska had started sobbing long ago into the speech and Lang had her in his arms now. He eased her over to the bed and set her down and eventually she succumbed to a heavy dose of sleep. He peeled back the covers and sheets and tucked her in. He looked down at her; her blue colored hair messily spilled over the pillows and saw such innocence that he couldn't help but be touched. How could her father have done what he had done to her? How could he have…
Lang shook his head and leaned down, placing a kiss on her forehead softly. Franziska's eyes flickered open, a fuzz of sleep there and she whispered, "You're the light, Agent Lang. At the end. You've shown me…"
She edged upwards and brushed her mouth along his. Lang didn't move, frozen as her wet mouth gently tugged at his. He kissed her back chastely, just enough before she gave him a sleepy smile and fell back on the pillows, closing her eyes to fall back to sleep.
Lang looked down at her, pulling back slowly, his breath easing out of him in a lower sound of approval for her kiss. Eventually he felt and recognized the warm blush that was on his cheeks. He turned and began to clean up the room again, peering over now and then to watch her as she slept, making sure she was okay, watching over her.
Franziska woke up the next morning to the nasty taste in her mouth. She felt as if she'd eaten a sock. Maybe a boot too. How much had she had to drink last night? She sat up and pressed a hand to her head. She looked around and saw her room was completely clean. A frown formed and she tried to remember the other night.
Her father.
Her sordid past.
She groaned and fell back. She remembered vaguely, she was in her room and completely tearing it apart. Breaking things, smashing them and then deciding to procrastinate from work a little. She had done that and then… Interpol? Agent Lang. She sat up again, a gasp in her throat. Shi-Long Lang!
She remembered she had unexpectedly ran into him and he had brought her here. Said things, all sorts of things, meaningful things.
"Lang?" She croaked aloud, wincing at the nasty taste in her mouth,
She got out of bed swiftly and went to the bathroom, straightening herself out and making sure to brush her teeth before looking around the room some more for some sign of Lang. Surely he had been there. After all, the room was clean, someone must have…she couldn't have dreamed it all. After all, how did she make it home if it hadn't been him helping her?
Still, there was nothing around to indicate any such thing. No evidence, no visceral proof. Franziska sat down at the kitchen table, her head throbbing from her wicked hangover and felt her heart drop. Maybe it had all been a dream. After all, running into that Interpol Agent of all people? And out of the blue in the middle of nowhere. It seemed too… coincidental. Too impossible.
But then she saw the yellow legal pad of paper before her and grabbed it quickly to see a clearly written note waiting for her to read.
Franziska von Karma,
I hope you feel better this morning. I wanted to tell you that I meant everything I said last night and more. You are my friend but I also meant what I said about… other things. What I'm trying to write is, if you'd like, I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. Give me a call if you're interested or even if you just want to talk.
-Shi-Long Lang
His number was written at the bottom and Franziska hugged the note to her. Her cheeks tinged pink as she vaguely remembered her salacious behavior the night before towards him. As well as the sloppy kiss she'd given but more importantly she remembered what she had told him that had been important. He was her light at the end of the tunnel. And as she anxiously took hold of the phone she knew now that the next time she saw him, she'd have to prove it.