Foolishly Foolish

"Only a foolish fool would do something so foolish."

He sighed with exasperation. Would that never end? The woman might as well have been a raving lunatic. Miles only scarcely understood her. He often let it go too, not really allowing her odd behavior to alter his plans or influence him. They were only words, after all. Words didn't do much of anything unless given the power to.

"Are you done yet?" he asked, a bored look crossing his features.

Her eyebrows furrowed and her expression hardened, "You weren't listening! How utterly foolish of you! Whenever I speak, I have a very important point to—"

"Maybe I should convince Wright to come here for you. I don't know how well he'd fit in, but he's always been a better play toy for you than I have."

Franziska gawked at him. Bringing her Wright?! Phoenix Wright?! But that man was just so infuriating! He was so demented! He was such an idiot! He was so… so… foolishly foolish! That man cost her career, after doing the same with Miles. It had been only one reason for coming to the United States to prove herself. The other had been for her father.

No matter what the case, Phoenix was the one responsible. He had destroyed so many lives. Playing dirty never worked with him either because he always managed to pull something out of the air. One could say he was clever, but in actuality, he just had dumb luck. Franziska liked making her own fortune, though, and she hated that Phoenix had so many things just handed to him.

She finally growled and with a hand upon her whip's grip, she cracked it once. "Don't bring up such a foolish man with me!"

Miles was unmoved. That motion was intimidating to many, but simply more entertainment to him. "Well, that appears to be a rough patch you need to work through. Have you learned nothing since we last met, Franziska? I'm disappointed."

Her composure faltered. For Franziska von Karma, Miles Edgeworth was like an unreachable star. He was one of the finest—if not the finest—prosecutor she'd ever had the privilege of putting her sights on. Even hearing that she disappointed him always tore her up inside. What she thought of him became amazingly important. She wanted to impress him. She wanted to be better than him. She wanted his eyes to be on her. So she always had to be perfect because nothing less would be appropriate.

Franziska shuffled, irritated that he was still scolding her like a parent to a child, "If I wanted to be told how to live my life, I would go to my father. You know better than to act so foolish with me, Miles Edgeworth. A foolish fool only says and does foolishly foolish things for foolishly foolish reasons. Alas, the true epitome of what it means to be foolishly foolish."

Ah… He could never tire of her juvenile tantrums. They had similarities, he supposed, but it wasn't quite the same. Miles had never imagined his friendship with Franziska to be like befriending himself. They both had that fiery determination, but there was a difference in the roads they took to achieve the same result. Miles liked being somewhat along the morally proper path. He could fight dirty in the courtroom if he needed to, but he preferred avoiding that. It had always been so much more enjoyable to watch Phoenix be out-witted.

"I think that's enough," he managed to break into her tirade. "We could stand here all day and banter, but you're making a spectacle of yourself and it's aggravating."

Before she could start in again, Miles lifted a hand and silenced her with a pointed stare. Then he carried himself in smooth stride and gestured for her to follow.

She seethed, on the inside and the out. If there was one thing she wasn't good at, it was self-control. Sure, she was fine to a point, but once that mold had been broken, Franziska was incapable of expressing herself through anything other than anger. Even when it came down to how highly she thought of Miles or how much she liked him, she couldn't ever say it without being deliberately insulting or rude.

What Franziska likely didn't know was that Miles had come to Germany to see her. She had returned home to discover what being a prosecutor really meant—at his recommendation no less—and after some months without her, he'd wanted to see the progress. Sure, he had other reasons, but he'd convinced himself early on that those were less than important in comparison. He was in Germany now, however, and at her residence, an abode that showed her family's wealth far too well.

Her father spoiled her, Miles had decided. That had to be part of the reason she was so conceited. Haughty nature was not spread through genetics like hair and eye color; that was something taught to the child over time. Chances were that every time she cried as a child she was coddled when she should have been ignored. What a young lady this treatment caused her to grow up to be, and he'd been present for a good chunk of that time.

At the terrace connected to the dining hall, too formal for even Miles's refined tastes, he stood at the railing. From where he stood, he could see the vast number of trees and luscious flowers. It had all been positioned far from the street. Any potential traffic became quieter than a dull roar and more like a spring breeze. In some ways, being here was far better than Los Angeles. It certainly was different from what he'd grown accustomed to.

He stirred when she stopped behind him. Wordless for a moment, he surveyed their environment. Although she made no further movements, he could still hear the tail of her whip tap against the top of her fine boots. Franziska held a scent of maturity about her, and combined with her ever perfect posture, she held an everlasting sensuality about herself. Miles had thought about it a few times before, but those had always been fleeting points. This moment lasted long, longer than he'd anticipated and longer than he'd wanted it to. It was difficult to come across as apathetic when his mind got the better of him.

He peered over his shoulder at her and arched a brow, "Am I not allowed to be up here? You didn't say anything before. You hadn't back then either. I assumed it would still be fine."

"Stop being foolish," she chided him harshly before joining him at his side. Hands resting upon the railing, she looked up at him, "Do you really think I haven't learned anything?"

"I was just attempting to get your attention."

If only she knew what he thought of her. Learning things, bettering herself, those didn't require that she change who she was. When would she realize that? After all, he was just the same as he had been the first time he stood against Phoenix in court. Even if his knowledge had evolved over time, he was still Miles Edgeworth. She could change how she saw herself and her career, but she would still be Franziska von Karma.

"That does not answer my question."

He stared down at her for a few moments. She wasn't crying this time, but when she had those months ago, a part of his heart had been tugged upon. She was still so young and she had so much more to learn, but she was doing well for herself. There was a strength in her that he had yet to find any other place. Certainly something had come from her no one had ever anticipated.

"I don't feel I need to, Franziska."

She growled in irritation, "Just answer my—"

You just don't seem to understand. Always this obsession with perfection. I think you're perfect just the way you are.

Miles inclined and lifted a hand, taking a lock of her light blue hair between his thumb and forefinger. Then he offered her a lopsided smile.

"I think you've learned a lot since you left. Stop being so foolishly foolish."