Pairing: Franziska/Larry
Prompt: Oh, my God, I thought you were going to die. Please don't ever scare me like that again.
Word Count: 1,434


"It's done…"

Franziska looked up from her spot in the armchair across from him. "What?"

Larry set his paint supplies back down on the table and turned the canvas towards her. She was continuously shocked at how much he had improved since they began working on this book. The painting, while a bit cartoon-ish due to the fact that it was going to be a kid's book, looked just like her.

"The last page," Larry said. "Now I just need to write the story and start sending it off to be published." He smiled down at it, clearly proud of himself.

For once, Franziska was lost for words. She hadn't expected it to be over so quickly, and though she would never admit it, she had actually enjoyed the company over the last few weeks. She was usually very much a lone wolf, spending her time at home alone reading or working. Having Larry over every few days to work on this book—something she only agreed to so she could be sure it would be up to her standards—had been surprisingly enjoyable.

"There's nothing left? Are you sure?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Larry looked up at her again, eyebrows raised. "Nope. I thought you'd be happy, you've only told me every time I've come here not to get comfortable because as soon as we were done I'd be out of here."

Franziska crossed her arms. "Yes, well, I just want to be sure this book is perfect. You're using my image, after all."

Larry grinned. "Just admit you like having me here! I'm not as terrible of a guy as you thought, am I?"

"That's not it at all," Franziska said, keeping her eyes focused on a picture on the wall.

"It is so!"

She reached for her whip, wrapping her hand around it as a warning. "It is not!"

Larry raised his hands. "Fine, whatever." He started to gather up his things. "I don't know what your problem is, you know? You can be such a…"

"Such a what?"

"Nothing," he said, looking down at the coffee table as he stuffed his things into his bag. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes, don't worry."

She was silent as she watched him pack up. She knew what he'd wanted to call her. Bitch. She'd heard it a thousand times before, both from people talking about her behind her back, and from people who weren't afraid to say it to her face. She didn't care though. If being an assertive, dominant woman meant she was a bitch, then so be it.

But he hadn't actually said it. Maybe he'd wanted to, but he'd stopped himself before uttering it. That counted for something, at least.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, pushing aside her pride for once in her life. "I'm sorry, Larry Butz. I suppose your company these past few weeks hasn't been completely unpleasant."

Larry looked rather pleased, knowing that was as close to complimenting him as Franziska would probably ever come. "I'm glad you could admit it."

"Don't push it," she growled.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he slipped the last of his paintbrushes back into his bag. "You're still leaving?" Franziska asked.

"Well, you didn't say I could stay."

She opened her mouth to respond when there was a crash from upstairs. Larry looked startled, but Franziska had already jumped out of her chair, her whip in hand. Larry looked at her. "You don't have a cat, do you?"

"No, I do not."

"What was that?"

They were both silent, listening for anymore noise. It was mostly quiet, except for the sound of heavy footsteps walking across the upstairs floor. "Someone's up there," Larry whispered. "You don't have an alarm system in a place like this?!" he said, gesturing to his general surroundings. Franziska lived in an old mansion on the expensive side of town. It was a beautiful home. Even though it was old, he would have thought there'd be a security system in place.

"No, we never had one installed. My father always said no one would dare break into the home of a Von Karma."

Larry rolled his eyes. "Well someone is up there. Do you have any weapons besides that whip?"

"The whip is all I need," Franziska said, starting to walk towards the stairs.

Larry jumped from his seat. "What are you doing? You can't go up there alone!"

"Well, you're welcome to come, but I won't sit down here idle when someone has dared to break into my home."

Larry grumbled, but he knew this was an argument he wouldn't win. He grabbed a fire poker from beside the fireplace in the room and brandished it, catching a look of amusement on Franziska's face. He ignored her and slid past her, insisting on going up the stairs first.

They were relatively quiet, but each creak of the old stairs and floorboards set them on edge. Whoever was upstairs was making too much noise themselves to hear them though; they clearly thought they were alone.

Larry gestured for Franziska to stay put as he leaned around a corner. She rolled her eyes, but if he wanted to try and play hero then fine, she'd let him.

She watched him creep around the corner, and stepped forward to watch him go. There was a room ahead of them with an open door, and inside was a man dressed in black, digging through a dresser for valuables.

Franziska jumped when Larry screamed, raising the fire poker above his head. The burglar turned around at the noise, just in time to move out of the way of the fire poker as Larry swung it down. It smashed into the dresser, the hook on the end getting stuck in the wood. Larry yanked on it, but it wouldn't come out.

Franziska sighed to herself. The burglar actually laughed, reaching for something at his waistband. She hadn't been scared before that, but he was clearly reaching for a weapon now.

She watched him pull a gun from his waistband and start to point it towards Larry, who was still clumsily attempting to pull the poker from the wood of the dresser.

Franziska stepped forward, unfurling her whip and flicking it towards the burglar lightning fast, catching him off guard. It snapped against his wrist, wrapping around it, and Franziska jerked it taught, causing the gun in his hands to go flying.

"Grab that, would you, Larry?" she said.

Larry scrambled onto the floor to grab the gun, finally finding it and training it on the burglar. Franziska kept her whip tight, and took a step forward, bringing her heeled boot up to kick the burglar in the shin. He fell to his knees in pain, and she used the whip to pull his hands behind his back. She used the whip to tie his hands together.

"Now, we should call the police," she said as she stood up.

Larry just nodded dumbly, staring at her almost in awe.


An hour later after the police had come and taken statements and taken the burglar away, Franziska and Larry were left alone once again. It was a sort of awkward silence as they went back to the living area where Larry had dropped his bag of painting supplies.

"I guess I'll just… grab this and go," he said. "Thanks for… not letting that guy shoot me."

Franziska stood in the doorway, a hand on her hip. Suddenly she walked towards him, stopping only a few inches away. He was taller than her, but with her heels on she was almost equal in height.

"I thought you were going to die. Don't ever scare me like that again," she growled.

Franziska had already moved away from him by the time he'd managed to process what she'd said. She was actually scared for his life? He found himself grinning as he watched her walk back over to her seat.

"You do care, Franzy!"

Franziska turned her face away. "Hmph. It's only natural I would, isn't it? After all this time we've spent together these past few months? I'm not heartless, you know."

"I know. Anyway, I really should get going now," he said, bending to pick up his bag.

Franziska nodded curtly, looking back towards him. "If you would like… you're welcome to come back next week."

"But the book is finished."

"I know."

Larry smiled. "Okay, great… I'll see you next week then."

Franziska nodded again, crossing one leg over the other as she watched him head out.