A/N: As determined from the last chapter, we are now moving into Edgeworth territory. Here's some PG-13 EDGINESS to kick things off! (*coughs* it was long overdue!) For those of you who haven't read The Ties That Bind, a love-sick Franziska was doodling potential future baby names, naming her and Miles' daughter Manfrieda after her father for a girl, or Gregory after his, if it were a boy.


"As you walk in love, understanding your entire being becomes perfected."


Chapter Forty-Three: Too Many Walls

Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma
Presidential Suite, Lan Kwai Fong Palace Hotel
Zheng Fa
September 12, 2023 6:31 am

As Miles walked into the luxurious hotel room he shared with his fiancée, he found Franziska, clad satiny, baby-doll pajamas, standing in front of the King-sized bed, frowning at the gigantic Louis Vuitton suitcase yawning open, only half packed, with her arms across her chest as in stern contemplation. She looked up as he entered, his expression neutral, although his eyebrow was arched.

"Was something the matter meine dame?" He drawled, still in good spirits from the humorous email from his best friend. "You sounded most displeased when you called out to me earlier, and I wondered what misdeed I had done to have been deserving of such ire in your tone."

She flushed slightly at the unspoken reprimand in the words. Translation: What the hell did I do to deserve that bitchiness?

The answer was he'd done nothing…and yet everything. As childish and pathetic as it sounded, she'd actually been jealous when she'd heard him laughing. What right had he to feel such joy, whereas all she had been feeling the past few years was complete and utter wretchedness and misery? She hadn't laughed in ages. Hadn't wanted to. Didn't think she would even know how to, if her life had depended on it. Not since…

No. She wouldn't let her mind go there. Even now, three years on, it was too painful. Too raw. As fresh as if it had been yesterday. This was her own cross to near. She needn't burden him with it.

"Nothing, liebling," Franziska replied stiffly, dropping her head so her gaze was focused on the items in the suitcase and her silvery hair fell into her face, obscuring it from his view. "I shouldn't have used that tone or words with you. It was wrong of me. I guess I felt left out from whatever had you so entertained." She looked up then, having had a moment to compose her features, and forced a slight smile. "Care to share?"

Still chuckling somewhat, Miles gave her synopsis of Phoenix's latest plight, expecting to at least hear a titter from his partner when he got to the part about Butz getting a spinning kick to the midsection, but while a flicker of amusement flickered within her beautiful grey eyes, not even a trace of genuine mirth crossed her lovely face. It made him ache.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever seen her truly smile.

It was a rare time when the both of them were together, on the same schedule, but as their assignment in Zheng Fa had at last wrapped up and they were headed to Europe soon, Agent Lang had allowed them a fortnight to tie up any and all loose ends in preparation for the next stage of the operation.

And already, his ever-zealous dame was packing their belongings. She had always been organized and fastidious, but had been more so than usual the last few years, always wanting to be prepared and never caught unawares of anything. Especially since…

He couldn't say the words out loud. Franziska had insisted they never speak of the matter again. It had been the only way for her to handle what had happened, and while he disagreed with her coping method, Miles loved her so much he had reluctantly acquiesced and swept it all under a rug, like she'd insisted he do. He hadn't really had a choice – he'd been too weary of facing the wrath of her since rediscovered whip if he hadn't!

Now, as he looked at her unintelligible expression, he felt the same frigid wall between them that rivaled the Berlin one. He longed to break down that barrier, and turn her back into warm, laughing woman he'd fallen in love with. But how? That Franziska appeared to have vanished, and was replaced with an even colder, more remote version of the whip-wielding hoyden she'd been before they'd gotten together.

He couldn't take it anymore. If Phoenix Wright could find it within himself to brave not one but two pubescent, PMSing girls, Miles Edgeworth could discover the strength to handle things with his presumably pre-menstrual future wife!

Miles strode over to her side and put his hands on her bare shoulders, trying not to flinch at the realization that she'd visibly stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation of his touch.

"Franziska, we need to talk," he stated firmly, in his best no-nonsense prosecutor voice.

She stubbornly jutted her chin, the way she always had when about to be scolded by her father and affected her most supercilious expression.

"What do you wish to speak of that is so important, Miles?" She asked, meeting his eyes levelly. "Can't you see I'm trying to pack for our next trip?"

"We don't leave for another two weeks," he reminded her mildly, not at all swayed by her attempted haughty countenance. He pushed her gently back onto the bed, taking the suitcase and placing it onto the floor so he could sit next to her. "So enough of that, please." She turned her head to look at the ground then, but he lightly placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head, forcing her to look at him.

"Mein dame," he whispered. "Talk to me, please. I know how hard this day must be for you. It is for me as well. I remembered the date. I know what today is."

"Don't do this to me, Miles! I can't… I just…can't…" She choked back a sob and jerked her head away, and tried to rise from the bed, but he put a hand on her arm, pulling her back onto the bed, and into his arms. She collapsed against him then, crying so hard her entire body shook.

"When will it stop, Miles?" She wept, nearly wringing his heart out with her tears. His strong, brave girl so rarely cried. "When will the pain go away?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, stroking her satiny hair, his own eyes welling up at the pain she was in, yet at the same time, relieved that this time, she was at least letting him comfort her, so they could mourn together. "But I do understand, meine dame. And I'm here for you."

"How can you possibly understand, Miles?" She drew back and looked at him with sorrowful eyes, still watery with tears. "You can't possibly know how I'm feeling today, of all days!"

"Franziska," his eyes were agonized. "You weren't the only one to have felt the loss on this very date three years ago. It was my baby too."

There, he'd said it. The words they'd left unsaid for so long, at last out in the open, the unignorably harsh ring echoing within the walls of the silent room.

"I loved her so much, Miles!" Franziska sobbed, falling back against him in another torrent of tears. "My little Manfrieda…gone. She was with me such a short time…I didn't know until it was too late!"

That was the worst part of it all. Franziska had been five months along when she'd miscarried, but as she was so petite in stature and frame, and because of her constant irregular monthly cycles and even more irregular work schedule, she had had no idea she was pregnant, and had mistaken her occasional spotting and cramps for menstrual ones…until the day she'd lost the fetus. Miles would never forget the look of devastation in her eyes after she'd been rushed, in agonizing pain, to the hospital, and found out that their baby was gone, and it'd been a girl, whom they'd decided to name Manfrieda.

"I know, Franziska." He murmured, tightening his arms around her back and drawing her against his chest. "I know."

"If only I'd known!" Franziska wailed now. "I know she w-wasn't planned, Miles. But I wanted her so much! What were the odds that the one time I missed my pill would have been the one time we made love that spring?"

Miles felt a twinge of guilt creeping over him. He remembered how he'd been grumbling to himself how moody and withdrawn Franziska was being, and not fulfilling his primal urges, which he had been attempting to do himself by dredging up the memories of his former lover. If only he'd known she'd been carrying their child at the time! He wasn't sure if would have made a difference, but he still felt terrible about the whole thing.

The worst part was that since then, Franziska barely let him touch her, seeming to swap her old birth control method of the pill for flat out abstinence! He could practically count on the fingers of his hands how many times they'd made love in the past three years, and mostly it'd been on the traditional festive occasions, like his birthday or Valentine's Day! Each time, he'd sensed her reluctance and trepidation, and had essentially felt like he'd merely spent himself on her, instead of it being a mutual enjoyable experience. They'd barely hugged or kissed, either – it was as though his touch made her skittish – like she was afraid he would ravage her against her will whenever he tried to be affectionate in any sort of way.

With their opposite work schedules, those awkward moments of her evasion of intimacy hadn't been too glaring, but when they were alone together, as they were now, it really was. He was surprised she'd even let him hold her, but he was grateful to have at least been able to offer her comfort from the pent up grief she'd been harboring all this time.

"It doesn't matter that she wasn't planned, meine dame." He brushed her hair off her face and looked at her with sincere amethyst eyes. "But believe you me, she would have been not only loved, but cherished and welcomed."

Franziska looked at him hopefully, still sobbing slightly. "Do you really mean that, liebling?" She whispered. "I didn't think it was possible to want something so badly that I didn't know I even had! But the hardest part of this all was…you know I've wanted a baby for the longest time now. I just didn't know if you did just yet…or if you had only going along with it initially just to appease me. So I wasn't quite sure how you felt about the loss. A part of me wondered if you even may have felt…" She dropped her eyes then and could barely choke the last word out. "R-relieved."

"Franziska!" Miles' eyes were round with shock. "How could you – even… no! Of course I wasn't relieved! I was as distraught as you were…because I love you, and more than anything in the world, I want a life and family with you, even at this point, with our hectic careers."

"I think I needed to hear that." Franziska wiped her eyes, and smiled at him sadly. "I know I've pushed you away all this time Miles, and I'm sorry. But I was so terrified of getting pregnant …and I just couldn't endure ever having to go through such a heart-breaking experience again. Or even worse…thinking I'd brought a child into this world that was only reluctantly accepted by his father."

"Franziska Von Karma." Miles took her face in his hands and looked searchingly into her eyes. "Please believe me when I tell you, with all my heart, I would welcome and thank God for any child you give me."

"Oh liebling." Her lips trembled as she looked at him, the look of relief and love on her face as clear as day. "Danke. Ich liebe dich."

"I love you too, meine dame." He looked at her meaningfully. "But I'd love the opportunity to show you how much a love you." He leaned towards her, and a slight blush tinged her cheeks as the meaning of his words sank in.

"Miles…I…I'm not on the pill anymore," she stammered, blushing gorgeously. "And it's been so long since we made love that the box of condoms we had from last time has expired! It could be risky if we make love right now."

"Let it be," he growled. "You're going to be my wife. This time if it happens, you will know it was expected and wanted. I've been aching for you for so long...and I know by that look in your eyes I'm not the only one who's been craving this…"

The world tumbled in slow motion, then stopped for a brief moment. Her blood rushed in her veins, wetness seeped between her thighs, her pulse pounded with a mad glee, and then he kissed her and it was all over.

She was lost.

A low moan ripped from her throat at contact and his tongue plunged deep. Completely raw, with little finesse and all dark hunger, he invaded her mouth.

The past and present blurred together, but this time, there was no retreat. Meeting him halfway, their tongues tangled and fought in a sensual dual she was happy to lose. He claimed and plundered, pressing her back onto the bed until she was stretched out and he loomed over her. She gripped his shoulders and arched against him, asking for more, and without breaking the kiss, as his hand slipped underneath the silk of her chemise, and hit bare skin.

Oh, God. His tweaking fingers against her bosom felt so good, causing a lightning jolt to course through her. Never had her body lit up so fast, with just a kiss and simple touch. Usually it took a while for foreplay to get her going, but good Lord, she was going to finish right now if she could just lift her hips a bit and rub—

"Don't think so, my little hellcat." He murmured the words against her lips, pausing to bite, then suck. "I waited three years to have you properly. I'm not letting you get off on a quick rub on the bed."

She should be completely embarrassed, but Franziska was beyond caring how she got there. Right now, tonight, the need in her body hurt too much. Her hunger reached beyond any type of rationality. She tried to lift her ass higher. "You win. I want you. Fuck a baby into me, Miles Edgeworth."

He chuckled low and dirty. "Oh, mein dame, you're still gonna pay."

Shivers raced down her spine. "I didn't do anything."

He broke the kiss and looked deep in her eyes. "You did everything. You just don't know it yet."

The words made no sense, but he gave her no time to ponder. He lifted her up and pressed her down on the bed, so her legs dangled over the side, her back supported by the mattress. Franziska waited for the frantic pull of clothes, the feel of skin on skin, the mad rush toward orgasm that usually accompanied a passionate encounter. Instead, he towered over her at the edge. With his exotic, simmering gaze trained on hers, Miles smiled, telling her immediately he was in no rush.

Oh, God, he was going to kill her.

He toed off his slippers and pulled off his pajama top with one easy motion. His skin gleamed in the morning sunrise outside the window, with chiseled, well-defined pecs and biceps. A line of light hair traveled down washboard abs and disappeared into his pajama bottoms. Her fingers fisted to rip them off, and feast. Franziska was just about to jump him when he moved out of reach.

"Stay there. Don't move."

She didn't think she was capable of movement then. Because her mind had become putty, just like her body.

Without a word, he reached for one bare foot, rubbing it in a slow massage. As he pressed into her instep, she swallowed a moan and kicked her leg a bit so he'd get on with the more important parts. Her body throbbed for relief, but he took his time with each foot, then gently let them sway back, dangling in midair.

"Miles?"

"Yes, Franziska?"

"Umm, we started at a good pace there, but things have slowed."

A glint of white teeth flashed. "Ever hear the motto 'it's all in the journey and not the destination'?"

"Yeah. I always thought that was bullshit." She scooted an inch down and wiggled her hips. "Getting to goal is a good thing." The thought of a mind-blowing orgasm had all her circuits firing. She enjoyed sex, but found her mind was way too involved, so she did best with a quick, intense session that got her to climax. Franziska had accepted her limitations and issues a long time ago, and though many times she wished to be less complicated, she also realized it was easier to accept and move on than try and fight her natural inclinations.

"What if I told you I intend to change your mind?" He played with her ankle, slipping his fingers under up her leg and rubbing her calf. Damn, the man could've been a massage therapist and made a million. Her muscles flexed while he kneaded, then caressed the back of her knee. Bolts of pleasure streaked through her. "What if I told you I don't intend to let you get to goal until you're begging me?"

Beg him? Damn, he was cocky! Uh, yeah. Good try.

But she was so hot right now, as soon as he got close for any friction she'd take care of herself. Still, she smiled. "I'd say good luck."

His grin was very smug and very male. A shiver of warning trickled down her spine. She'd never begged for anything in her life, especially for a man to satisfy her. She didn't intend to start now.

Miles leaned over and skated both hands higher, pausing right underneath her thighs. He squeezed hard, and her hips lifted unconsciously. "I'm going to love every moment of this."

With one deft movement, he gripped the material of her baby doll bottoms and pulled them off her.

Franziska sucked in a breath. His hot gaze took in every inch of her skin, until a secret thrill began to build. Something dark and dirty stirred to life. Even after all this time, she loved it when he took the time to study her body with such razor intent, as if dying to ravish, taste, and mate. She trembled, not knowing what to do with the crazy feelings beginning to surge. He teasingly traced one index finger over the elastic, skimming over the front so she struggled to remain still.

"I want to take you so badly. Just…not yet."

Miles leaned over, and she released a sigh, waiting for the final barrier to be off and feel him inside her.

Instead, he lowered his mouth and pressed kisses over her thighs with a leisurely intent that told her he was in no rush. His tongue lashed out at her, tasting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, knee, calves, and slowly back up. Her mind spun. She tried to grab his head and urge him upward, but he ignored her. A nibble here, a lick there; his hands consistently roved, pushing up her and dipping into her belly button, squeezing her hips, playing with the damn elastic of her panties until a whimper broke from her lips.

Finally, he inched his way back up. The heat of his skin burned into hers, and with the same easy pace, he pushed up her pajama top, propped her up, and guided it over her head.

"You taste like I remember. Exotic. Sweet."

Her voice sounded like sandpaper. "Orange blossom body lotion."

"And jasmine."

"Yes, that's in there, too. Miles, what are you doing?" Her eyes begged him to give her the orgasm and stop the torture, but the wicked grin that tugged at his lips told her he had other plans.

"Everything. By the time I'm through with you, you'll beg me for release. And I'll demand it, Franziska. Every last bit of it is mine."

So naughty. Until Miles, words like this had never been spoken to her, and she found she liked it, immensely.

He focused his attention on her chest then, dipping his head as he began licking her through the material, scraping his teeth over her most sensitive areas again and again until a low scream built at the back of her throat. His erection through his pajamas seemed massive as he grinded against her, and she lifted her hips to press back. Her head thrashed back and forth. Too much. It was all too much.

"I can't do this," she moaned. "It's taking too long."

She held on to him in a fierce grip, arched upward, burning alive to satisfy the burning ache within her and the need for this man to take all of her, any way he wanted, over and over and over.

"Open your mouth for me, Franziska." His eyes seethed with demand and lust. "Now."

His tongue surged between her lips and she almost wept with the pleasure. He plundered every last secret, then softened the pressure so he could play. The dual effects of hard and soft, rough and gentle, slow and fast, broke down her mental barriers and left her with nothing.

Just freedom.

By the time he broke the kiss and moved his way back down her body, Franziska was ready to surrender.

"Oh, please," she whispered. "Please."

"Better. You're almost there." He tugged off her panties and laid her bare for his gaze. "Do you know how long I fantasized about making love to you you?" He dragged a finger from her neck, down her chest, down to her navel, and Franziska writhed with a dark need to let him do anything. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes!"

"Ask me, Franziska. Beg me."

"P-p-please, liebling."

"Please what?"

Shame burned within but she was past caring. "Please take me now. Please make love to me."

"Beautiful. You're so beautiful, you were made for this. For me." He lowered his head and began a teasing trail of kisses from her neck down to her navel, and as his tormenting journey continued, Franziska felt the last of her sanity shred.

"Miles, please! I need—I'm begging!"

At last he answered her pleas and joined them together. Slowly, he filled her completely, taking everything she had without apology. She stretched to accommodate him, relishing the tightness, and as they began to move together, he interweaved his fingers with hers.

"I've missed this so much Franziska." His voice broke. "I've wanted you, ached for you, needed you. I've always needed you."

She had no time to process the words or their meaning. The ride was wild, long, choppy, thrilling. Her release shimmered just out of reach, the feeling of him taking over her body, his hips working in a primitive dance, sweat drenching their skin, over and over until—

Franziska broke apart, dimly noting him following her over the edge. She gripped his hands as her only anchor, his weight pressing her against the bed, until they collapsed.

She closed her eyes.

Her mind was completely and blissfully empty.

But for the first time in three years, her mouth was open into a genuine, beatific smile.