Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom and Shu Takumi
AN: This story takes place during Case 4 of AAI, the game's saving grace for me. The banter between Miles and Franziska was absolutely adorable, and I spent a good ten minutes sniggering at their investigation of the vending machine. And baby Edgey's little glaring competitions against a sleeping man was brilliant! Not to mention little Kay, the cravat incident, the judge, and the actual case made sense whilst being ingenious at the same time. All in all, I had a good time.
Basically, I just needed to write Franzy/Miles fluff. :3
Beta-ed by the lovely, ever-patient GeekyGenius. You have my thanks!
The courtroom had been busy that day. Franziska von Karma sat idly upon the lumpy, uncomfortable seats placed within the courtroom corridor and tried hard to disguise the rumbling in her stomach.
It had been hours since her breakfast, her very last meal, and already it was bordering dinner. She had been feeling somewhat famished at around noon, though Miles had not complained, so neither did she. An hour or so after that, the hunger had diminished into a dull ache, but now it flared back in full force as the call for another meal arose, and slowly, she realised how increasingly difficult it was to keep her eyes off the vending machine. It was a machine she did not have much contact with before - she had always assumed they were set there for poor people who, for some reason or other, couldn't visit a decent restaurant. Never had she thought that she herself may one day sink to the depths of one such person.
Somewhat cautiously, she took a quick glance about her. Miles, her adopted brother, was standing at one end of the corridor, discussing something with Detective Badd. A few guards and members of the forensics team were busy scuttling in and out of the court lobbies. No one else appeared to be bothered by the apparent lack of a meal. Franziska felt her stomach rumble again. Why can't Miles finish what he's doing already and pay some attention to me?!
Longingly, she shot the vending machine another peek. It was listed with cheap sounding products - 'Defendant's Milk' indeed - but her state of hunger had added something oddly enticing to them. Swallowing, she looked around to check that no one was watching her, before sidling her way towards the vending machine. Hastily, she scanned the list of items available: 'Hot Dog', 'Ham Sandwich'... 'Swiss Roll'.
She paused. Whilst a ham sandwich would most certainly be more filling, the Swiss roll was cheaper, and perhaps more worthy of the price tag attached to it. That, and the fact that she was more than a little curious. Her childhood had been distinctly lacking in sweet delicacies - Manfred von Karma did not consider a perfect daughter to be one who constantly gouged on chocolate.
"Isn't this also what that Faraday girl bought?" She murmured, almost to herself. "Hmph. Well, I suppose there is no harm in giving it a try..."
Deftly, she reached into her small shoulder bag, and then frowned. Her purse, usually kept securely within, was gone.
"I'm sure it was here!" Somewhat frustrated, she rummaged through it once more, scowling. "I'm sure I..."
No. No! I did not leave this at home! I'm sure I didn't! I'm perfect! I can't have...!
"Franziska, what are you doing?"
Growling, Franziska turned and struck the unfortunate speaker for daring to interrupt her despair. Miles Edgeworth flinched back from the blow of the riding crop and, wincing, regarded his foster sister warily.
"Wh-What is it?" He blinked, taking a step back.
Franziska glared at him for a moment, her eyes careful and assessing. "Do you have money on you, Miles Edgeworth?" She bit out.
Miles paused, seeming to regain his composure somewhat. "Yes, I'm sure I do..." He didn't reach for it, however, only raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
Franziska opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She couldn't tell him how hungry she was! She couldn't show him her weakness! Her face flushed as his gaze only served to grow sharper, and hastily, she mumbled a quick: "N-Nothing."
When he looked as though he was going to question her further, she lashed him furiously so he wouldn't see how red and heated her face was beginning to grow. "I-It's none of your business, Miles Edgeworth!" She snapped. "Leave me alone!"
"... Very well," Miles looked bemused, and, with a last, somewhat concerned glance over his shoulder, turned and began to speak with a nearby policeman.
Franziska glared after him, but despite her defiance, she could feel her stomach growl in protest at the very idea that she had just chased away her only chance at getting a Swiss roll.
"M-Miles..."
The name slipped out before she could even give much thought as to what she was saying. Thankfully, Miles didn't appear to hear. Still, that didn't make her feel any less like a fool. Giving up, she raised her voice. "Miles Edgeworth!"
He turned, expression wary, but when the expected lash didn't come, his shoulders visibly relaxed and he made his way quickly towards the younger girl. "What is it, Franziska?"
Now it had come to this, Franziska found herself at a loss for words.
With the elder boy looking at her so expectantly, she felt rather 'put on the spot'. Trying and failing to disguise how flustered she was feeling, the girl shifted, twisting and bending her riding crop in her hands.
"I-I think you need to re-investigate this hallway!"
"What?" Miles looked taken aback, his grey eyes widening. "But we just investigated it..."
"Well, I think you need to investigate it again!" Franziska bit out, finally beginning to discover her composure once more. She cracked her riding crop. "Your first investigation wasn't perfect, Miles Edgeworth! You missed out... areas."
"I'm sure I investigated everything, Franziska," Miles sighed, and yelped when a riding crop struck down upon his shoulder.
"Fool! You can't know that for certain until you investigate once more!" She felt herself grow desperate. "Th-That vending machine. Did you take a proper look at it?"
"Yes, I did. You were with me." Miles' tone was faintly exasperated. "At this precise moment, I would consider Court Lobby No.1 to be the most logical place to begin investigations."
"B-But Miles...!" Franziska gritted her teeth. If he would not listen to reason - though truth be told, she had few on her side - then he would surely listen to her whip! With a fierce snap, she brought her riding crop upon him and felt somewhat more satisfied to hear his cry of pain. "I want you to re-investigate the vending machine now!"
"F-Fine!" Miles straightened his cravat, though his expression was hardly pleased. "If it makes you happy, Franziska." Exasperatedly, he took a step towards the machine, and gave it a long, hard glare.
If he's trying to trick me by having a staring competition with a vending machine...! Franziska scowled. "Don't take me for a fool, Miles!" She growled in warning. "Inspect it properly!"
He flinched back at the oncoming blow. "A-Alright." He sighed in resignation. "... I will inspect it properly." With a grudging sigh, he placed a finger upon the pictures displayed upon the machine. "'Hot Dog'," he read out dully, "$7. 'Beef Jerky', $9... It contains nothing except for overpriced food."
"Don't be fooled by the surface of things!" Franziska protested. "Th-The Swiss roll, for example. Detective Gumshoe and Kay Faraday would never have met had it not cost $6!"
"... True," Miles acknowledged, with a faint nod of his head. "But, Franziska... We've already cleared Gumshoe of suspicion. I don't see how - "
"If all clues were obvious, Miles Edgeworth," Franziska bit out, "even the most foolish of men will be able to uncover the criminals behind the scenes!" Truthfully, she was running out of excuses. "Anyway, isn't the price of the food something of interest to you?"
"The price?" Miles arched an eyebrow.
"Yes." She paused. "Why is the price so high when the quality of the food is obviously debatable? Don't you think this is a subject worth examining upon?"
"... Not really."
His words were so final Franziska felt her face burn in response. "H-How dare you!" She gritted out, wondering if this was what truly foolish men felt when they were proven wrong. "Th-The Swiss roll!" She tried desperately.
"What about it?"
Her stomach growled at this point, and Franziska placed a hand self-consciously upon her abdomen. "W-We need to examine it!"
A complicated array of expressions ran across Miles' face, an expression he usually wore when he was piecing things together. Franziska felt her heart sink as she saw all of those expressions melt, as one, into one of realisation and understanding.
And suddenly Miles was back to his usual quiet, confident self.
"... I see," he said, at last.
Franziska fidgeted.
"I know what you're thinking," she muttered, defensively, though she knew she was defeated. "I-It's not true. I-I just want to... examine the Swiss roll."
She waited for the smug, amused smile of his to light his face. It often did when he found his deductions to be correct.
But Miles Edgeworth remained oddly silent, his lips drawn into a tight, thin line.
"A Von Karma is allowed to be hungry!" Franziska protested, feeling the sudden urge to stand up for herself in the face of her adopted brother's silence.
"Y-Yes, I suppose so." Miles answered, though his voice was low. "One Swiss roll, correct?"
Franziska merely nodded, biting her lip, though her stomach betrayed her with another eager gurgle. Miles didn't appear to notice. He was extracting coins from his wallet with extrenuating slowness, and when he began to insert them carefully into the machine Franziska was sure she caught a faint tremble in his fingers.
There was a rattle from within the machine as it took in Miles' money. A few clicks and whirrings later, a measly packet ejected from the base and Miles bent to pick it up. For $6 the Swiss roll had very little to offer except for the fact that there were two of them, but, as a few commoners liked to say: 'grub is grub'. Franziska was hardly able to contain her eagerness when Miles handed the pack over to her, but with considerable restraint kept herself from snatching it out of his fingers, and managed to mumble a curt 'thank you' before settling down upon a nearby seat to enjoy her prize.
The Swiss roll turned out to be nothing astounding - a sad mixture of low quality chocolate and cream. At least, that was what Franziska would have liked to say had it not been for the fact that she had gone several hours without a meal. Doubtless anything would have tasted good to her at that moment in time. Still, she tried hard to appear as though she wasn't enjoying it too much, and that was when she realized that a certain Miles Edgeworth was still stood where he was. Though he had turned to face the vending machine, Franziska did not miss the fact that his eyes were sidling every so often in her direction. His arms were crossed and his fingers were clenched tightly upon the fabric of his clothing, and his lips were pressed in a grim, tight line as though he were determined not to open them for some time. Apparently he was going through some severe moral conflict, and Franziska, understanding him too well, smirked at the sight of him.
"Miles Edgeworth!"
He started visibly at the sound of his own name, but made a pathetic effort feign nonchalance. "What is it now, Franziska?" There was a noticeable wavering in his gaze as he attempted to keep his eyes focused upon Franziska's. It was so amusing that the girl almost felt like laughing. What a foolish fool he was.
"Here." She stated, indifferently, and thrust the single, remaining Swiss roll into his hand.
Miles' eyes widened almost comically, and he stared down at the Swiss roll in his hand as though he'd never seen one before. "F-Franziska, I don't..."
Franziska shook her head. Foolish fool. "You're far too obvious, Miles," she smirked, crossing her arms and tapping her riding crop against the floor. "Really, if you're that hungry, then just open your mouth and ask!"