First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited/read/whatever the story. I really appreciate it!

On a second, unimportant note I like describing mansions -as I think this chapter proves. XD

Chapter 2

The von Karma estate

The two prosecutors were standing outside the worn-out-due-to-abandonment-but-still-impressive von Karma manor. Edgeworth's mind was filled with all kinds of small and unimportant memories which, though, were the details that fleshed out his more significant ones.

There was the big iron gate that only opened with the use of a remote. He couldn't see it from here because the rock fence and the line of cypress trees behind it were hiding it, but he knew there were a few dog houses close to the gate where the guard dogs used to sleep.

A huge garden spread out behind the fence. Usually it was full of all kind of beautiful plants and the grass was always well-trimmed. Though one couldn't see it unless stepping inside the garden, there also was a backyard of pretty much the same size as the front yard standing there, invisible to an outsider since the mansion was interrupting the view. It was where the horses of which all three von Karmas were very fond and very skilled at riding, used to stay. Miles had tried his luck at horseback riding and realized that it was definitely not for him -what with his fear of heights-, something that earned him plenty of teasing from Franziska who would, by the way, have entered a national tournament had she not refused for the sake of studying.

The two storey mansion itself was a sight to behold with its six bedrooms, the huge library in which the children spent a lot of their time, the attic which had become an observatory since the manor had a brilliant, unpolluted from the city lights view to the night sky, the original paintings hanging from the walls and many other features and details that would take hours to recite.

Currently, though, the mansion wasn't as striking as it used to be. The grass was overgrown and there no longer were patterns formed by flower beds on the ground. The paint had come off the walls at certain parts, there was absolutely no life in the building or yards and the manor emitted a sense of desolation.

The pair exchanged glances and, as if agreeing on an unspoken matter, both entered through the gate and moved toward the house. They hadn't talked much since they met at the airport but the silence between them wasn't awkward. It almost never was. And, as they walked together down the same stepping stone path they used to walk down more than six years ago, their minds filled with memories which secluded them in their thoughts, the chances of them starting a conversation vanished completely.

Once inside, they both knew what to do without having discussed anything before. They visited the dust-filled rooms checking for items they might want to keep. It was a lengthy process since they needed to take a look at everything and sometimes got distracted by the, admittedly, few photographs they found around the house or some belonging they had completely forgotten about.

After hours of searching they both headed to their own offices to sort out the lists they had made and, in Franziska's case, take care of paperwork.

The German prosecutor sat moodily at the leather chair and opened the suitcase with the files. Visiting the home she had only recently left had reminded her exactly why she had wanted to sell it. Being there made her upset and she couldn't quite find the cause, though, she guessed it was her father's everlasting presence in every corner of that building.

She had done her best to leave his death behind and she had succeeded for he hadn't been close enough to her to make her cling to his memory. That didn't mean going through it all was easy, though.

His death had an impact on her, yes. Despite what he had done –and to a person she held in a special place in her heart too- he was still her father. His passing was enough to bring a few tears to her eyes but she had quickly composed herself afterwards.

The feeling that tortured her wasn't pain or grief or something most people would feel at the death of their parent. She realized that, what had been bothering her was change. Manfred von Karma represented the part of her which sought perfection and discarded all weaknesses. Wrong as it may have been, it actually offered her protection. She wanted to get rid of it but it was hard… However, she wasn't going to give up. If she had to, she would sell everything that connected her with her father not out of hatred toward him but out of her need to truly grow up and become her own person, someone who wouldn't be defined by their last name.

Determinedly, she started filling the necessary papers. If she could concentrate on just that, it would take her less than half an hour to finish and she would get away from the house once and for all.

Gentle footsteps were heard from the office next to hers. Franziska sighed and closed her eyes irritably. If she could concentrate… She had momentarily forgotten about Miles Edgeworth. The fool had been a constant source of irritation throughout the day and the worst part was that he hadn't been doing it on purpose.

He just had to greet her with a smirk and a teasing comment and, even though she made sure to whip the smirk off his face, she couldn't deny she actually liked his remarks and his smarmy grins.

And her heart had fluttered slightly when he had said he was glad to see her again but, she was proud of the way she told him off immediately, hoping to prevent him from talking to her more. She seemed to be quite successful too since they almost didn't speak at all after that. She had tried to tell herself that it was better that way because she couldn't stand how his voice caused her heart to skip beats every now and then. Just where had these foolish reactions come from? They weren't there previously. Or where they and she simply hadn't noticed? Had they, maybe, intensified, notifying her of their presence and annoying her endlessly?

But, no, these things happened in the morning. She had forgotten all about them… mostly because other thoughts had replaced them in her mind. Unfortunately, they too concerned Miles Edgeworth or at least a younger version of him.

This house was also full of their childhood. And again, she realized how much their life had changed since then. The way they viewed the world, their appearance, their interests, the way they interacted with each other…

She couldn't help but wonder, though, if she was the only one that felt like everything had changed so drastically. It was almost as if she had started from zero again after that fatal flight to America a bit more than a year ago. As if all of her life in Germany and what she had learned there was a lie and she had to start over once again. She even had trouble being around the person she used to call "little brother". Why did the nickname sound so silly to her now?

Realizing she was spacing out, she shook her head with a grunt and decided to return to her work. She raised the glass of water she had placed on her desk wanting to take a sip but she dropped it in shock when the ground started shaking.

The glass fell hard on the desk and broke, one of the bigger pieces digging into the palm of her right hand. She hissed in pain but made sure to remove the papers from the desk in order for them not to get ruined before she removed the fragment. Fortunately, her leather gloves had prevented the glass from piercing her too deeply.

In the meantime, the earthquake had ceased and, except for the mess on her desk, it seemed like nothing else had been affected. However, she knew there was something –or rather someone- else who might need help.

Disregarding her injured palm, she rushed to the office of the older prosecutor, only to find him curled up at the floor, shaking in fear. As she stood there seeing him so vulnerable, she got flashes of her own self in her moments of weakness, crying alone in some dark corner of her room because she wouldn't allow anyone to see her like that. How many times she had wished someone would pop up, give her a hug and tell her everything would be okay…

Franziska had seen Miles in a similar state many other times in the past and she had always scorned him for that behavior despite feeling very strong guilty pangs… despite knowing that she acted the same way when something triggered her own fears… despite knowing that all the boy needed in these cases –just like what she had needed in similar situations- was some support. Not knowing what came over her, she did something she thought would never do. She sat down next to Miles and embraced him, though a bit awkwardly.

Desperate for some comfort, the male prosecutor returned the gesture quite fiercely, clinging onto her as if his life depended on it. Admittedly, he was hurting her a bit the way he pressed his arms around her waist and it was greatly unnerving for her to see the man she admired so much and looked up to be in such a state. Especially unnerving was the fact that she felt a couple of hot tears drop on her chest where Miles had hid his face.

Not really used to comforting others, she slowly rubbed his back with her hand as she had seen other people do in situations like this one. Surprisingly, that seemed to work quite well as his grasp on her gradually softened and he no longer shook and whimpered.

In fact, now that Miles had calmed down, Franziska, embarrassedly, realized that she was actually enjoying this hug –probably the first one they had ever shared. She liked the warmth he emitted from every part of his body. It was as if the temperature on her belly where he had rested his left hand, her back around which he had curled his other hand and pretty much the entire left side of her torso which connected with his body was now higher by one or two degrees.

She also enjoyed feeling the muscles of his back as she moved her hand up and down and she was tempted to move her right hand which was placed at the small of his back at his belly to check if his abs were trained enough. His head on her chest wasn't helping her either.

Before this could become too much to handle, Miles finally broke the hug and looked straight into her eyes, a deeply grateful and very soft look in his eyes, accompanied by a sweet smile upon his lips; a smile he only rarely used.

He took her hands in his own and spoke. "Franziska… Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me. No one has ever done something like that before and I…" his voice trailed off as he noticed that one of her gloves was wet. Where his hand had touched hers, a red substance had colored it.

Before she could react, Miles took her glove off and turned her hand around to see the wound which was bleeding too much for its size; the way injuries coming from glass fragments, papers and other sharp objects do.

"Wait right here." He told her and dashed out of the room, glove in hand.

It took only a moment for frustration to kick in. What was she doing? First, she had gone and hugged him without thinking and she had actually liked it. Then, instead of maybe yelling or hitting him to prevent him from getting any ideas, she had simply sat there captivated by that look in his eyes and let him hold her hands. She was now hoping that he didn't notice her giving a shiver when his skin had touched hers or, if he had, that he would think she had quivered from pain or from the cold.

Trying to make the weak voice which kept asking what was wrong with all these nice things that had just happened shut up, she started pacing irritably back and forth in the room, thinking of the best way to chastise Miles Edgeworth for his behavior once he returned from whatever he went to do.

She was perfectly ready to give him a good yell when he opened the door but, maybe because he came in with that smile on his face or maybe because she was utterly surprised from seeing him walk in with a wet paper and some bandages, she didn't realize any of her plans.

Instead, she remained silent as he used the paper to clean her hand from the blood and then carefully bandaged it. "Your glove is pretty much ruined. You'll have to get a new pair." he stated and, without any other warning, he removed her other one as well. "You can't go around wearing just one glove, right? Besides," he said as he finished bandaging her wound, "it's better like that. You have beautiful fingers." He held her hands again for a second before he turned around and left the room, smiling at her one last time.

Thunderstruck was a befitting way to describe Franziska at that moment. Her heart had started to beat faster at his last comment and a small part of her mind was about to have a party, but anger quickly took over.

Again, she had failed to control herself, to do what she was supposed to in order to stop these foolish feelings –because she had finally understood what was happening to her- from getting the best of her.

A part of her was stubbornly stating that all this was wrong and made her appear weak not to mention that there was no way he would be interested in her while another part told her all this was brilliant and there was nothing wrong with it. Of course, what that part couldn't disagree with was the fact that Miles would never feel the same way about her. He had always been much better than her in every way so, why would he be interested in someone short of perfect? Someone like Franziska? And he had never seemed to care enough for her or he wouldn't leave her behind all the time.

More torn and frustrated than ever, she left his office and returned at hers, planning to forget herself by taking care of paperwork as she always did. It seemed to work at first and she had managed to calm down completely by the time the sun which was already low on the horizon, disappeared behind the mountains and the night begun.

However, it seemed as if she was never meant to finish her job that day. Suddenly, she heard a soft melody come from the living room. She tried to ignore it at first but she realized she couldn't. It was Miles who was playing the piano.

Her mind was filled with memories of peaceful evenings during which the prosecutor would hone his piano skills as she studied. Studied probably wasn't the correct word, though, because she never managed to stay concentrated when he was playing due to how good it was.

Realizing there was no way she could finish now, she gave up with a sigh. Then, she stood up and headed to the living room to listen to the song more clearly. For one reason or another, Miles hadn't turned on the lights and Franziska was glad about that. He was sitting there, illuminated by the silvery moonlight which was quite bright that night due to the full moon. The calm song he was playing, the gentle movements of his fingers on the keys and the beautiful lighting offered a very serene sight.

She leaned on the doorframe and allowed herself to smile a little bit; something she wouldn't have done if the room wasn't dark and she wasn't sure that Miles hadn't noticed her standing at the door.

She waited for him to finish playing before she spoke. "This was a beautiful song you were playing, Miles Edgeworth."

"Indeed." He replied calmly. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn't show it. "Do you want to try?" he offered, pointing at the instrument and making seat for her next to him.

Franziska was taken by surprise. She had always wanted to learn how to play the piano. However, she had sacrificed that dream of hers for the sake of prosecuting. She couldn't afford spending time to practice if she wanted to pass the bar exam at the same time as he.

And anger boiled once more inside her. Miles Edgeworth had managed to both play the piano and become a prosecutor while she had given up plenty of things only so that she could surpass him in that profession. And she had failed.

Oh, how much she desired one, just one victory against him! Perhaps, this was her chance to prove herself. If she could play well –with an injured hand nonetheless- and impress him… If it was proven she had some sort of talent in this instrument…

Her imagination fueling her determination, she joined him. "Show me." She demanded, feeling a bit of her usual self returning.

He smiled and started giving her directions. In theory, Franziska had understood everything and thought it was easy. It was in action she encountered a lot of problems. No matter what, she couldn't make the sound he had made before. Her hands wouldn't respond in time and she made mistakes.

After a few tries, her drive slowly left her and anger settled in. Why couldn't she make anything right? He was better than her even in that. She was almost determined that he had offered to teach her on purpose so that he could humiliate her. Yes, that was probably it.

Her rage was about to burst when it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Miles had placed his hands over hers and was wearing that disarming smile on his lips once more. It was as if he had sensed her frustration and had decided to do something about it.

"Let's do it together." He gently said and pressed his fingers on her own, guiding her hand.

The blue-haired woman let him move her hands without a protest. This was very unlike her but it was as if his touch had an almost magic effect on her; as if she couldn't feel angry when his hands were on hers. And suddenly, she was glad she wasn't wearing her gloves.

The sound which was coming from the piano was still not perfect. Mistakes were made now and then and it was to be expected but, surprisingly, Franziska didn't mind. Even though it wasn't really her playing and even though she would, normally, never approve of the false notes, she was actually truly enjoying the experience.

At some point, Miles turned and smiled at her and she found herself mirroring him. Then the song came to an end and silence engulfed the room. Shyly, his fingers entwined with hers and a low gasp escaped Franziska'a lips.

She realized that she had been holding her breath as he uttered her name and she felt as if it sounded sweeter when he was pronouncing it. "I really wanted to thank you for comforting me back then..." he told her warmly.

Just why was that fool making such a fuss over it?

"I suppose that you can't imagine how much I appreciate it. I really do." And he meant his words in the most sincere way. Because he too had realized just why he had felt so elated at the thought he would meet her again. And maybe he would still be confused about his feelings had she not hugged him. Her touch had felt heavenly at that moment of fear and he had decided he should let her know even though he harbored no hopes she would return his feelings. Why would she after all? She couldn't stand him, right? He couldn't reach her high standards of perfection.

"Normally, I never let someone approach me or try to comfort me when I'm panicked like that." he continued, lowering his head a bit as if ashamed. "Except, maybe, for you." he added and hoped his slight blush didn't show. This was definitely not his thing and he had never done anything like that before. "Actually, not even you but, not because I didn't want to. My fears are simply not something I'm proud of." He was expecting her to start lecturing him about showing his weaknesses like that but no word came out of her mouth so he continued.

"Yet, you did come and I…" at this point he was completely out of words. There were so many things he had felt and wanted to express but found himself unable to. His usual eloquence had abandoned him when he had needed it the most. He tried to substitute those unspoken words by squeezing her hands in his, hoping this would get the message through.

In the meantime, Franziska had to try very hard to keep her composure because everything inside her seemed to have gone crazy. Her heart was beating fast ever since Miles had started speaking and his face had come much closer to hers than she would have liked; close enough to feel his breath which smelled of his favorite vanilla tea. A very calming smell… and one she found extremely intoxicating. Her mind had stopped working and she was feeling unreasonably happy to have linked hands with him.

"Franziska…" he paused immediately after speaking, trying to find a way to say what he really wanted to and looked into her eyes as if trying to find some answer inside them. "You… You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

She froze. Was it just her or was that Mile's way to-

Her trail of thought was interrupted abruptly by the feel of his lips on hers. Any chance that her mind would return to a more down to earth state was absolutely lost that same moment. She was overcome with some paralyzing feeling that made her feel like she was flying. And Miles wasn't even moving his lips yet, as if waiting for her approval.

Hesitating only momentarily because she knew that her decision now would change everything, she responded slowly and timidly, trying to channel her feelings to that kiss.

He had trouble remembering a time when he had felt more light-headed and joyous than the second he felt her lips move against his. She was kissing him very softly, with a tenderness he had never expected from her. He realized that she had completely lowered her guard now and was showing him her innermost feelings. One wrong move here would destroy everything and hurt her so he tried to be as tender as she, though he found it hard to rival such softness and these lips that tasted of chocolate and cherries.

Their kiss seemed to last for an eternity but, when they broke slightly to look at each other through half-lidded eyes, they only did so in order to unlink their hands and wrap them around each other, kissing again with more passion.

Miles ran his hand through her silky hair and curled the other around her waist, pulling her onto his body as she cupped his face with her right hand and placed the left one on his chest. He found incredible how perfectly their bodies fitted together and how divine the feelings inside him were.

Sometime, the kiss had to end and Franziska laid her head on his chest, embracing him. It felt as if she had just been freed from something. That something probably was the belief she wasn't good enough for Miles; that he didn't approve of her. In the end, all she had really wanted was proof that he loved her even though she would have never imagined he would love her in that way.

Miles caressed her hair as he laid his head on her own, smelling her hair which gave off a faint fragrance of jasmine. He was reluctant to use that word after all the trouble it had caused them but, he found no other more befitting for that moment; it was perfect.

"Miles…" she muttered and her voice sounded like music to his ears, "do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

The male prosecutor gave a start. "W-what? T-that soon?" he stuttered, not knowing what else to say and trying to hide the tinge of red at his cheeks.

Franziska giggled, startling him even more because he wasn't expecting her to make such a childlike sound. "Of course not, you fool! I'm not that easy, Miles Edgeworth." She smirked, making him blush more and this time he was sure she saw. "I asked you if you would like to just sleep with me." Now it was Franziska's turn to blush. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Both of them were great at this sort of thing.

Miles took a strand of her hair into his fingers and put it behind her ear. The smile had returned to his lips, slowly turning into a more playful version. "Sure." He replied and, without warning, he took her in his arms and headed to the bedroom upstairs.

"Miles!" she screeched in a very un-ladylike manner and clung onto him.

He laughed and held her tighter and, before long, he was laying her gently on her bed and going to lie next to her. He would have suggested she changed into something more comfortable but she seemed pretty tired and ready to fall asleep at any moment so, he let her sleep in her clothes.

He sat there and watched her as her baby blue eyes slowly closed, a faint smile on her lips. She seemed so peaceful when she was asleep… he felt a wave of warmth wash through him as he watched her. He caressed her hair once before leaving to change into his pajamas. He felt a little guilty he would be in more comfortable clothes than her but he really didn't want to ruin his suit.

When he had changed, he covered her as best he could with the covers –Germany was particularly cold this year- and contentedly laid himself to sleep, taking her hand in his while doing so.

Note: The song I imagined Miles was playing is River Flows in You -no, I'm not talking about Bella's Lullaby- by Yiruma but, of course, you can have him play whatever you want in your mind.