Miss Franziska von Karma was fed up! This foolish foolery had gone on for far too long, and even foolish fools such as these should have had enough brains to understand that their actions were simply unacceptable. Every glance that lasted a little too long was like perfectly manicured nails down the chalkboard of her soul. Every furtive session of hand-holding made her creamy white skin crawl. Every... every... Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright were foolishly foolish fool-hearted fooley McFool Fools and their foolishly fool-brained romance were foolish in every way and angered Franziska's very soul and she hated it and they were fools and she hated them SO THERE.

She had no interest in casual lunch dates! Walks in the park were completely uninteresting. To say nothing of the foolish day spent in the foolish amusement park where they bought those foolish Fey girls some foolish cotton candy and Maya got a foolish pink teddy bear and a foolish hat and Miles Edgeworth didn't bring his dear older sister anything at all which was fine because she didn't want anything and it was a fool who would suggest otherwise.

Franziska tapped the handle of her whip impatiently against her desk. If Miles Edgeworth could find true love, why shouldn't she? Of course she should be able to! The perfect von Karma blood flowed in her! If even a fool like Mr. Phoenix Wright could manage such a task, it should be no trouble for one of her superior breeding and upbringing. If she could not defeat these fools in the court of law, she would defeat them in the court of love! She would find a love so pure and true that the poets would sing of it for a thousand years!

She marched down to Miles Edgeworth's office to inform him of his ever-nearing defeat at her hands. The door took a full three whips to be broken down. She wondered idly if he had changed contractors; it usually didn't take that much.

The fool didn't even look up from his paperwork.

"Isn't four times in a month a little excessive?"

"MILES EDGEWORTH," she announced, arm outstretched in the traditional von Karma front-facing objection style. He sighed and looked up.

"Good morning, Franziska."

"Miles Edgeworth!" she said again for proper emphasis. "Today is the day that you shall taste defeat."

"Oh?" he asked, with none of the proper level of fear and awe in his voice. "This isn't about the dog-show, I hope."

"No, it is not about those foolish creatures," she said, testing the whip in one hand. "Nor is it about the cock fights, 400 meter dash, or the clogging."

"Ah," he said, turning back to his paperwork. Though he did not let it show, Edgeworth was at least a little relieved to hear that it had nothing to do with the cock fighting. Even discounting the dubious legality of that particular endeavor, the smell had lingered around the precinct for weeks. Franziska waited a moment for him to beg her for enlightenment as to the means of his humiliating and ever-nearing defeat.

He did not.

"Well?"

"Well what, Franziska?"

"I have allowed you a moment to beg me for enlightenment as to the means of your humiliating and ever-nearing defeat!"

"Ah."

She was silent.

He was silent.

"MILES EDGEWORTH," she shouted, snapping the whip against his desk warningly. At the display, she could see him begin some sort of inner-struggle. Perhaps he was pondering his last moment of blissful ignorance before facing the terrifying and and humbling prospect of her crushing victory. Perhaps he was clinging to his last moment of happiness before Franziska reclaimed her rightful place as his clearly superior and beloved sister. Perhaps he was... perhaps he... he was pondering too long.

"Very well," she said magnanimously, "I can see you are paralyzed by fear. But I shall enlighten you anyway."

"Somehow, I knew you would."

"Miles Edgeworth, I shall defeat you on the sublime battlefield of love!"

He was silent for a moment and then went back to his paperwork with as much fervor as he could muster, very clearly terrified at his looming defeat. This moment was a sweet one, to be savored like a fine wine, or discovering a previously unviewed episode of the Jammin' Ninja.

"Terrified into silence, Miles Edgeworth?" Clearly he was. "Very well, I shall leave you to ponder your fate. It is the style of a von Karma to strike swiftly and without mercy. However, given the circumstances, I find it appropriate to-"

"Franziska," he said, for the first time actually putting down his pen and pushing away from the desk. "Franziska."

"M-Miles Edgeworth?"

"Do us both a favor and think for just a single minute before you drag us into another one of your schemes."

And for a moment, just for a moment, a familiar sensation took hold of Franziska. A cold spark bloomed in her throat and sank quickly to settle over her heart. It brought to mind old memories of days spent alone while Papa took Miles Edgeworth to observe court, of old play dates neglected when Miles Edgeworth had no time for "kid stuff." At the uttering of "one of your schemes," in a voice so full of derision and disappointment, that familiar, terrible, nameless feeling took hold of Franziska, and there was was the sudden urge to run back to her office and never come out. But she was a von Karma! They were quick to recover and they had no need for... no need of... she didn't...

"One of my schemes, Miles Edgeworth?" she sneered, voice just as full of piss and vinegar as ever. "Don't be foolish, little brother. A von Karma does not scheme. We may plot, conspire, or even rearrange the very fabric of reality to better suit what we know to be truth, but we do not scheme." Miles Edgeworth had no retort to that. No clever "ah, I see" or "oh, do you now," for there was simply nothing to say when faced with the unbridled majesty of a von Karma in full battle form!

"And who shall you be in love with?"

"Ha! No clever retort, Miles Edgeworth? No clever 'ah, I see' or 'oh, do you now.' For there is simply no- wait, what was that?"

"I said," Miles Edgeworth replied, not smirking victoriously (a bit to the surprise of both of them), "who is it that you will have this most epic love with?"

There are, in the universe, or at least in well-written fictional universes, pivotal moments in the narrative of all; moments where the eggs of the cosmos are balanced precariously on the rooftop of chaos. To roll one way and land gently in the gutter, or to roll another and scare the crap out of a napping cat as it crashes to the ground where it naps? Faced with this question for which she had not even the slightest semblance of an answer, Franziska stared dumbly (an act, it should be noted, which Franziska despised above all else). The egg began to tip.

But sometimes, to follow our ever-muddening metaphor, an unexpected wind will blow our dear egg back from the brink of defeat.

"Hello, pal!" came a familiar voice from the broken doorway. "I got that autopsy report you-"

Gumshoe fell silent.

Miles Edgeworth remained silent.

Franziska stayed silent only long enough to smile in such a way as to remind everyone else in the room why exactly it is that showing teeth is considered an act of aggression in all other primates.

"Scruffy, dear Scruffy," she purred, not really looking at the luckless detective.

"Franziska, you can't be serious," Edgeworth deadpanned.

"P-pals?" questioned Gumshoe.

"Scruffy" she hummed again, getting much further into his personal bubble than any officer of the law would really like a seventeen-year-old to be. "You shall have the honor of courting me, the last von Karma."

"I... I have the what, sir?"

Miles Edgeworth remained, for the umpteenth time in this fic, silent.

"Our love shall be pure and true."

"It will?"

"The tales of it shall echo throughout the generations, and all shall be envious of its glory."

"They are?"

"And it shall last forever."

"It... but... p-pal, sir... I... it will?"

"Yes Scruffy, now pay attention!" she commanded, with perhaps a slightly more gentle whipping than she would usually grant to the detective. It was only appropriate, as they would soon be in love. "You should ask me out on our first date by the end of the day. Think on the location and activities carefully if you value your job." And with that, she was gone, stepping carefully over the door fragments.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth? Sir?" he asked, turning to his slightly saner boss. "What just happened?"

By this time, Miles Edgeworth was already back at his desk, flipping through the Rolodex for the number of his favored contractor. It looked like he would need to pay even more for an unbreakable door.

"It seems, Mr. Gumshoe, that you just got that much closer to statutory rape. Don't think I won't press charges if necessary." He took the autopsy report from Gumshoe's hands and went back to writing his case.