Author's Note: Alright, so... I should be working on some unfinished KOF fanfiction, a half finished Jake/Lana oneshot, or perhaps even typing up a Jake/Lana lemon that I wrote (but am totally not confident about), and I really want to write some Gumshoe/Edgeworth... so what do I do? Go to my slow-ass computer and type some Franziska/Ema fluff. Oh, I am so amazing...
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright, something about Capcom, Ema and Franziska, OMGSHOUJO-AI...
Since I'm the first person to write it, I do own this pairing. If you write something for it... PLEASE DROP ME A NOTE. I WANT TO READ IT. Pretty please?
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A Gumshoe of Her Own.
A Franziska von Karma/Ema Skye one-shot by Strike To Incinerate.
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Franziska von Karma was not pleased when Edgeworth joked one perfectly fine day that she now had 'her very own Gumshoe', as if it were some Right of Passage or other foolish attorney thing.
The man's name was no 'coincidence'; Detective Gumshoe was much like gum stuck on the bottom of Miles Edgeworth's shoe. Sticky, annoying, and sometimes sticking to the floor when he walked, impeding progress. Whether or not gum on the bottom of one's shoe could be blithely unaware of it's own actions, and absolutely adoring of that shoe's owner, Franziska wasn't sure. But then again, she'd never studied the inner workings of a piece of already been chewed gum's mind.
In any case, Franziska's Gumshoe was slightly less annoying and slightly more helpful than the actual Dick Gumshoe. Also, a lot easier on the eyes, as she had no stubble, just a pair of slightly irritating pink and white sunglasses... but they had a purpose, so they could stay.
"Miss von Karma...?" a shaky voice asked. It was her foolish secretary. "Mi-miss Ema..."
Franziska ignored her. Ema Skye never knocked, she just assumed that Franziska wanted those reports on the cases, and she was right... but in came the young detective, white jacket, navy vest and skirt, pink and white sunglasses and all. She was smiling so brightly that Franziska almost wished that she had a pair of those hideous glasses. She never had looked good in pink, though.
"I have the files for DL-13, Miss Franziska," she said, holding them in her hands, but not handing them over.
"Then put them on my desk, you foolish detective," she said, glancing up from her meticulous notes.
Ema smiled to her again. "Foolish scientific investigator," she corrected, then laid them on the desk. It was a rather thick file, but many of the ones that Ema brought to her were, even if it was only one victim, and the case seemed to be clean cut.
One of the better differences between Ema Skye and Dick Gumshoe was that Ema tended to get kicked out of the office because there was no work left for her to do; the crime scene had been picked apart, every piece of evidence found, analyzed, and coded. One of the worse ones was that Ema Skye did not know when to 'get lost'.
"Whatever you say. Was there anything else you needed, Skye?" Franziska continued, idly flipping through the folder, her dark gray eyes skimming the pages of Ema's neat script...
"Uh... Not really. I could help you sort through the evidence, though!" she offered, clasping her hands behind her back.
"Not necessary."
"I could make you tea!" she tried, still cheery... but the smile was waning.
"Fool, you know I drink coffee," Franziska retorted, stifling the urge to whip her viciously and tell her to get the hell out of her office and bother her older sister, or perhaps that damned defense attorney...
"Coffee! I can make that!" she said, her smile going up a few watts again. Being able to dump coffee grinds into a filter and pouring some water into a small container was not a huge accomplishment. Neither was pressing the button to turn the coffee machine on.
"I believe there is some already made. Some fools were foolishly pulling all-nighters once again..." she said, with a short wave of her hand. Perhaps she could get the girl to head to the break room, and she could have a few moments peace...
But not so. "Oh, okay. You like the Italian Macadamia Roast, right?" she asked, heading towards the small coffee machine that sat on the large window sill.
Franziska grumbled a soft, "Yes..." through gritted, perfect teeth.
It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of spring water being poured from a bottle, and the soft rustle of coffee grinds being displaced into the filter. The tap of the button, then the whirring of the brewing process. Drops of liquid caffeine made their way into the delicate porcelain cup.
Then Ema opened her mouth and asked, "So, how long do you think the trial will take?"
Franziska slammed her hand on the desk. "I don't know, you fool! It might take forever, because I can't seem to be alone to think!"
She didn't get it. She tilted her head to one side, pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and said, "I can help you. I was the lead detective at the crime scene, you know."
Franziska threw her hands into the air, and gave up. "Fine, fool! You can help, but then you will be gone faster than a fool at a wise men's convention, are we clear?"
Ema brushed her walnut locks over her shoulder, and nodded. "Crystal, Miss Franziska." She grabbed the coffee and set it on the desk next to the aggravated prosecuting attorney. She took a seat on the edge of the polished mahogany surface, much to the von Karma's dismay, and watched her flip through the files.
"It's pretty cut and dry. The victim was stabbed with a butterfly knife found on the suspect, which had the suspect's prints and traces of the victim's blood. At the scene, there were bloody footprints that matched the treads of a pair of the suspect's sneakers, found underneath the suspect's bed in her apartment. Now, the only problem is..." Ema explained, crossing one leg over the other, "is the motive. Why would a successful girl kill her own younger brother?"
Franziska knew why. 'How about because the brother was a foolish, annoying soul who didn't know when to quit, shut up, or get lost?' she thought. Instead she replied, in a droll tone, "I just don't know why she would do such a foolishly foolish thing. Do you have an opinion on this, fool of a scientific investigator?"
Ema shrugged. "Maybe it was an accident. Or possibly, self-defense," she replied.
"That's foolishly indecisive," Franziska said, grinning as she picked up her whip and delivered a thwack to the younger girl's side. Ema gasped, and placed her hand there.
"That hurt!" she protested.
"Listening to your babbling hurts my head. Deal with it," Franziska replied coolly, with a toss of her steel-blue head.
"Well, deciding on a motive isn't my job. It's yours. I just find and deliver the evidence. You deduce what happened," Ema replied with a wince as she rubbed her waist.
That, Franziska had to admit, was true enough. "Alright, I'm through with your foolish help. Be gone, fool," she said.
Ema hopped off the desk. "Alright. How about if I bring lunch tomorrow?" she offered.
Franziska blinked. "Now why in the world would you do that?" she asked. "Fool, you probably won't be needing to deliver a report tomorrow."
Ema shrugged. "I know. But I want to."
'How many times have I heard that fool Gumshoe offer to go out of his way for Edgeworth, for that same reason?' Franziska thought. Gumshoe was possibly worse than Ema, but Miles still gave him a chance. And not having to leave the office for food did sound promising. "Alright. I suppose you already know what I want?" she said.
Ema nodded again. "Yup! See you tomorrow, Miss Franziska!" she said, leaning down and pressing a cool, dry kiss to the prosecutor's cheek. Franziska's hands froze... she couldn't even react enough to whip her. Ema straightened up, and practically skipped towards the door.
Perhaps if she had turned around and waved, as she usually did, she would've seen Franziska's soft smile, and the slight pink, which looked very good on her, that graced her cheeks.
But there was always tomorrow.
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Fin.
Yay for Franziska/Ema! Crack pairing! They'd totally be just like Miles and Gumshoe! 'Cept, sexier, and more girlish.
Leave me a review, please. Pretty please?
