Hands clutching the flowers, Phoenix pushed open the door to her hospital room where she lay, having not yet awoken from her surgery. She looked so peaceful, probably because she wasn't wielding a whip. He left the flowers at the bedside table and turned to leave. He paused and looked back at her before sitting in the hard uncomfortable chair in the corner, figuring he'd at least wait a little while in case she woke up.

Franziska VonKarma's mind was empty for the first time in her life. She could see nothing but darkness. Suddenly, the memories started to come back: the Engarde case, that man with the unusual scar, the shooting outside the courthouse, and that fool Miles Edgeworth foolishly taking her to this foolish hospital where foolish doctors had foolishly performed surgery to extract the foolish bullet. The trial! She needed to get back to the courthouse as soon as possible. Crap. That was going to require getting her eyes to open, first. She tried to sit up, but the searing pain in her right shoulder caused her to slump back on the bed.

Phoenix was quite amused to see her try to sit up in her sleep. Always stubborn, even after having surgery. He laughed to himself and approached her bedside. He reached out a hand to lightly touch her arm. "Franziska?" He saw her eyes partially open, and then closed again. Phoenix found himself subconsciously laying one of his hands atop one of hers. She opened her eyes again, letting them adjust to the fluorescent hospital lighting.

Perhaps it was the anesthesia, but Franziska couldn't remember Phoenix Wright ever looking so attractive before. "How are you feeling?" He asked her, his spiky black hair swimming into focus. "You…look like a porcupine?" Did I just say that out loud? He blushed and began to smooth his hair down, causing her to laugh. That's when she noticed the flowers at her bedside. "Mr. Phoenix Wright, did you bring me these flowers?" He nodded. "Why, Phoenix Wright? Why did you come to this hospital bearing floral pleasantries?" she asked, looking almost angry. "Isn't it obvious? I was worried about you," he replied simply. "Worried? Why would you worry about me?" "Well, you're my friend, right?" "Mr. Phoenix Wright, you would befriend someone who has whipped you on so many occasions and called you an insufferable failure?" "Well, we certainly have an interesting friendship dynamic, but it works, and when you got shot, I realized how much I care about you." This was news to Franziska. "You…care…about…me?" Don't cry, Franziska, don't cry. "Yes." "Mr. Phoenix Wright, can you prove to me that you care for me?" "Excuse me?" "Any claim that is not backed by evidence is baseless." "What if I don't have evidence?" "You aren't making logical sense!" At this, Phoenix leaned over and kissed her. Surprisingly, she kissed him back. As they broke apart, he said "not everything makes logical sense, Franziska. That's the beauty of life." "Phoenix Wright…this is quite….I believe I may….I think that I…I love you, Phoenix Wright." Why did I say that? "I love you, too, Franziska," he replied, gently stroking her arm. They smiled at each other for the next few minutes, enjoying a sweet, blissful peace. Franziska was the one to break it. "We must never speak of this, Phoenix Wright." He was smiling broadly. "Seriously! If you tell anyone, I swear-100 lashes, 1000 lashes….." He continued to smirk, much to Franziska's annoyance. "Whatever you say, Franziska." He kissed her on the forehead and turned to leave the room. "I'll see you in court," he said. Franziska rolled over and fell asleep again, a smile playing across her lips as she dreamed of a certain porcupine haired defense attorney.