A couple of warnings on this one: this story features underage drinking, a minor (16 years old) in sexual situations with an adult, and a physical relationship between adopted siblings. If this bothers you, I would suggest finding something else to read.

Subordinate

She walked through the door without knocking, just as she always did. Sometimes he wondered what she would do if he wasn't home and she found it locked but so far, her impeccable timing had prevented that from happening.

"Franziska," he said, his voice flat as his attention returned to the documents before him on the desk.

"Miles Edgeworth," she answered before dropping her bag – but not her whip – on a side table and walking towards him until she loomed over his shoulder. "Is that the report on the Alba case?"

"No, of course not," he answered quickly. "I filed that weeks ago. This is a new case, the latest one Wright is defending in."

"That foolish fool of a fool," she said, her voice tense. He could see her hand tighten around the handle of her whip and he braced himself. Thankfully, he wasn't struck ... at least not yet.

"Yes, well, it will be a battle but I am certain I will prevail in the end."

"You had better. The von Karma reputation must be upheld."

It amazed him sometimes, to hear her talk about her father so casually, especially to him of all people. It was like she didn't understand what Manfred had done or didn't want to recognize the cruel twist of fate and intent that had destroyed Miles' family twice over. One lost father, one lost father figure. And one often delusional younger sister, despite what she insisted on calling him.

As if she read her mind, she leaned over. "Well, Little Brother, I think you can leave this paperwork for the time being. We have things to celebrate tonight."

He could tell by her expectant smile that she was waiting for him to ask what they were celebrating. Unfortunately for her, he had absolutely no qualms about revealing that he already knew. "Yes, I've heard about the verdict in Cohdopia. You are to be congratulated for all your hard work."

A frown appeared on her face for a moment but the smile was soon back. "Thank you, Miles Edgeworth. Do you have anything to drink?"

"Of course," he replied, pointing towards a cabinet in the corner. He was about to say 'help yourself' but stopped, as she was already there and already doing so. Some things really never changed.

But he had to give her some credit: she did at least pour two glasses. It had been a long time since he had warranted that treatment ...

"Are you even old enough to drink?"

Franziska placed the glass of whiskey in front of him, her eyes defiant. "I'm sixteen, I can do what I want. I'm not a child anymore, Little Brother."

If he was anyone other than Miles Edgeworth, he probably would have rolled his eyes. As it was, he just picked up the glass. "Cheers," he said in a monotone, before tipping it back. And coughing, this was strong stuff. "Where did you get this?"

Franziska smirked. "From Father's secret stash. Don't worry, he'll never notice. Though if he does, I'm afraid I'm going to have to say it was all your fault. You understand, don't you, Miles?"

First name only. She was up to something and he would discover what it was. But first he decided it would probably be wise to brace himself and so he took another sip. The alcohol still burned but it wasn't so bad this time, now that he was expecting it.

"So, besides illicit drinking, what can I do for you today, Franziska?"

She glanced at him and quickly looked away. If he hadn't have known better, he would have sworn she blushed. "Why do you think I want you to do something, Miles Edgeworth?" she asked after a moment.

"Because I know you, Franziska von Karma."

He expected a snappy retort to that, something about the rudeness of using people's first names. It didn't come. Not that Miles missed the hypocrisy but it was beginning to get troubling, this lack of expected behaviour from his sister. He narrowed his eyes, looking at her.

Everything seemed the same. The only real noticeable difference about her was that she was wearing different clothes than usual. And, he thought, some sort of push-up bra because he was sure last time she was not that well endowed, not that he paid much attention to that sort of thing, at least not where Franziska was involved. And ... was she wearing make-up?

Suddenly, in the middle of his investigation, she stood up and stepped towards where he was sitting. And then, before he had a chance to react, she was sitting on his lap, her breath hot on his face.

"Miles ... I want you to make love to me."

He felt his eyes bulge in shock. "WHAT?"

"Please Miles, I want it so bad. No one will ever know, except you and me."

She leaned forward, the padding she was using coming into full effect as he was suddenly staring down her shirt. The skirt she was wearing rode up on her thighs, revealing lacy white panties underneath it. She pressed her body down against him and, despite himself, he felt his body begin to respond.

"Franziska, I- umpth" he was cut off as she pressed her lips against his, her tongue quickly invading his mouth. Her hands began to slip down his body, heading towards the bulge that was forming in his pants and -

"No!"

He pushed her off, onto the floor. He stood up and put a good distance between them. It took her a moment to figure out what had just happened but soon she was looking up at him, her expression a mix of confusion, anger, and, worst of all, hurt. But what else could he have done? Manfred would have his head if he ever found out and there was the age difference and she was his sister! Or close enough. And yes, fine, he had noticed how much she had grown up these past years but still, this didn't feel right.

He could have tried to explain but he didn't. He just turned and fled. If she called to him, he didn't hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat.

The next day, he was on a plane, reading about a new case. Another murder – he was assigned to so many of them these days. This one would be different though, because this time he knew the victim: Mia Fey, the first defense attorney he had ever faced in a trial. That seemed so long ago and now she was dead, at the hands of her sister. A sister who was being defended by Mia's new protege. Miles had heard very little about him but was sure this would be an easy victory. He needed it, after what had just happened.

He wouldn't see Franziska against until after their worlds came tumbling down around them. They never spoke of what had happened, instead going with a unspoken agreement to leave things ... unspoken. If nothing else, it was the von Karma way.

A glass being held in front of his face ended Miles' nostalgic wonderings. "Thank you," he said as he reached for it and took a deep drink. This whiskey was of his own choosing and one he quite enjoyed. It went down smooth and he didn't hesitate before taking another.

Franziska was sitting on the chair across from him, waiting patiently for a change. He smiled at her. "Congratulations, Franziska."

She smiled back. "Thank you, Miles."

First name only. It didn't mean as much now as it had back then but still, it put him on guard.

"Are you planning on taking up Interpol's offer, now that this case is concluded?" he asked, hoping to buy himself some time from whatever she was plotting.

She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I did enjoy it the first time but there are other ... considerations that I must keep in mind."

"Oh? And what might those be?"

"You."

In his head, he could hear the jaws of the trap snap shut. "Me?"

She smiled. "Yes, you, Miles Edgeworth. Working this closely with you had reminded me how much I enjoy your company. And being back in court has shown that I can still enjoy presenting the perfect case, even if my dreams of a perfect record have been destroyed by the most foolish of fools to ever fool around in this foolish world."

She suddenly downed her glass, placed it on the end-table, and stood up. She stepped towards him slowly. He swallowed hard before draining his own glass, deja vu and other things making the room spin.

She came to a stop in front of him, no part of them touching though she was near enough for him to feel her body's heat. Or maybe that was just the booze.

He looked up at her and, once again, noticed some differences in her appearance. Though she wore make-up on a regular basis now, today it was different, the tones were softer and less business-like. Her outfit was the same as usual but the skirt was perhaps a bit higher on her body, while the top buttons of her vest and blouse were undone. And again, her breasts seemed larger and more ... inviting.

His breath caught in his throat. The reasons for rejecting this years before ran through his head, each one sounding hollow. Manfred was dead and, provided the Feys stayed far away from his spirit, in no position to carry through on any threat. The age difference mattered less and less with each year that passed. And, well, she wasn't actually his sister. Not when it came to blood and so, if he had continued to notice her body these last few years, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Miles ..."

Her voice trailed off with uncertainty. She had never liked losing; she liked losing twice even less. But this time she didn't have to worry.

He reached up and took her hands, pulling her forward to straddle his lap. This time he pressed his lips against hers. Until he did that, until she was kissing him back hungrily, he hadn't realized how much he wanted to.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body close. She ground her pelvis down and his hips pressed up, his rapidly stiffening penis enjoying the friction immensely.

She pulled her lips away from his for a moment, kissing along his jaw until she reached his right ear. He could feel her smile against his skin, could feel her softly exhale.

"I always did like it when you were under me," she whispered.

He began to laugh. It caught him a bit off-guard and her as well but the next day he would blame the booze for this reaction at least.

And maybe for the next one as well.

"Come to the bedroom with me," he whispered back, "and I'll show you what it's like to be my subordinate."

For once, Franziska didn't argue and just did went along with his suggestion. He made sure she didn't regret it.