Guidance
Ugh. Well, as the first draft of this story kind of... well, sucked, and
I was rather unhappy with it, I decided to take it under the knife and
completely rewrite. Add context, fix some things, just make it a better
story more deserving of the moment I'm trying to capture here.
I really do find the Franziska/Adrian dynamic quite interesting, as, uh,
I'm sure you may have realized. The fact that Franziska, though
outwardly the more "dominant" and fiery of the two, is extremely
inexperienced when it comes to romance and emotions... whereas Adrian,
the more shy and introverted one, I see as having a bit more experience
with that. It's a part of their dynamic that I love, and I often
wondered about how it would carry over into, uh, the bedroom. (Quiet.
I'm not a pervert, I swear!)
So this is a moment I'd been wanting to write for a while, and I feel
that this version of the story comes a lot closer to what I had in mind
than the first one did (it's also, like, four times longer). Also
inspired by a wonderful piece of art done by the lovely Kamapon.
Standard warnings apply: there are two women engaged in romantic and
sexual situations here, so if you don't like it, just move right along.
While I don't think there are any spoilers for the games in here...
uh... you probably should have played 2-4 before this? .
It also takes place in the same "universe" as my other F/A stories
(Perfection, Follow the Fool, One of These Things Does Not Belong), in
between "Follow the Fool" and "One of These Things..." Reading those
first might give it a bit of context, so...
If you read it, please leave a comment and your thoughts! Criticism is
welcomed, but please be constructive—random flaming never helped
anybody.
HERE IS THE GIRLSMUT. HAPPY NOW, CROIK?
(Thanks to my wonderful betas. You girls are love.)
Enjoy the fic!
----------
It was a warm July evening—though, given the fact that it was Los
Angeles, the fact that it wasn't swelteringly hot was certainly a
relief—and Franziska von Karma found herself sitting in a deck chair out
on the balcony of her apartment, watching the sun continue its descent
towards the horizon.
A cool breeze wafted through the air around the balcony sixteen stories
above the ground, idly ruffling her short-cut blue hair as she took a
sip from the slightly-alcoholic lemonade in front of her. Franziska sat
in silence, her gaze wandering from the brilliant red sunset to the
other figure on the apartment balcony.
It was a pleasant summer evening, the weather was good, and Adrian
Andrews had decided that they'd take advantage of the grill installed on
the outer terrace. They'd have a proper barbeque, because that was
apparently what people did in the summer with their... close friends.
Of course, Franziska had never cooked barbeque in her life, and despite
Adrian's enthusiasm, the prodigy of law suspected that she didn't have a
clue as to what she was doing either. That hunch was confirmed when
Franziska had left for about half an hour to go pick up some necessary
ingredients they'd been missing. Adrian had been attempting to light the
damned thing when she'd gone, and when she'd returned it had been just
as off as ever.
Fifteen minutes later, Adrian was still determined to make the damn
thing work, and it still wasn't cooperating with her. Still, though she
was obviously frustrated, it seemed as though she were in such a good
mood anyway that it never really got to her.
As Franziska sat there sipping her glass of lemonade and alternating her
gaze between the setting sun and Adrian wrestling with the grill set,
she knew that she didn't deserve any of this.
Well, the apartment and the balcony and grill had been paid for out of
her own salary as a prosecutor, yes, but what did they matter, really?
She'd lived in different places before, this was just another house with
its own other belongings.
No, what she didn't deserve was currently standing four feet away from
her, trying to coax a stubborn grill into lighting with calm, pleading
words and a long candle-lighter. Franziska did not deserve Adrian
Andrews in her life, did not deserve the intimate trust the other woman
placed in her—and she knew it.
Really, it was almost funny. She was a woman who had looked the scum of
the earth in the eye without flinching, who had calmly and coolly
watched as serial killers were dragged off to prison vowing revenge on
her, and who had fully intended to prosecute a trial even after being
shot in the shoulder. And yet, the prospect of merely being intimate
with someone...?
It was terrifying.
There was a part of Franziska von Karma that knew it shouldn't be this
way. She'd never been one to allow herself silly daydreams or flights of
fancy, and for eighteen years had never even once considered the idea of
romance. But it was impossible to isolate oneself completely from the
concept, and she was as humanly flesh and blood (though far more
perfect) as anyone else... so deep down beneath her breast, she knew
that she was being foolish.
Wasn't it supposed to be wonderful? Something one lived their entire
life hoping to find at last? Hadn't some of the greatest minds the world
had ever known been inspired by the mere concept of such a bond? Men had
killed and been killed for it (as she knew quite well, given her line of
work). Franziska had dismissed those silly notions as foolish fancy for
most of her lifetime—the beliefs of weak, imperfect men and women who
felt they needed someone else to achieve perfection instead of striving
for it on their own.
Then it had happened to her. And it had been wonderful. Though she'd
never known these feelings before, she certainly had them in her life
now, and they were... nice. The way Adrian would smile at her, and there
would be something in that simple contraction of muscles in the face
that made Franziska... well, it felt warm. There was someone in this
world who Franziska genuinely and wholeheartedly trusted—and who trusted
her in turn. It was different, too, from the trust she shared with the
man she called brother. However, even someone like her—whose
professional existence revolved around being able to explain the
unexplainable—couldn't possibly find the words to express just how it
was different.
But Adrian made her smile and feel warm deep in her stomach... and that
was really all that mattered. There was another person in this world
whom she could share her life with, be intimate with, and that was
wonderful indeed.
And it was still terrifying.
Franziska swirled her drink around in her hand idly, listening to the
clink of ice on ice on glass, the barest hint of a frown on her face. It
had gotten better; Adrian had smiled and nodded and waited and
understood as Franziska slowly grew accustomed to having someone in her
life like that. She'd be kidding herself, however, if she tried to
pretend it didn't still intimidate her, even now.
Though she'd never before looked at anybody in this manner for almost
her entire lifetime, Franziska knew that Adrian was a remarkable woman.
Intelligent, loyal, compassionate, understanding, beautiful... it was an
unfamiliar concept, but Franziska somehow knew that Adrian could have
any other romance she so desired. Although it wasn't a frequent
conversation topic of theirs, Franziska knew that Adrian had been in
other relationships before, and could find another. She could have been
on any number of apartment terraces trying to light any number of grills
as the sun continued down towards the horizon. Franziska knew for a fact
that she was a wholly imperfect other half in so many ways, and Adrian
could, logically, do so much better.
But she was here. On this balcony, with this uncooperative appliance,
standing barely four feet away from this young, foolish woman who did
not deserve her. And yet she would turn to Franziska, smile sheepishly
and promise her that she almost had it (and rebuff any attempt of
Franziska's at trying to help), and Franziska knew that she wanted to be
here.
It was unimaginably foolish of her, but nevertheless it made
Franziska... almost happy behind the chagrin.
"Adrian, I'm going to go get the manual," she said at last with a sigh,
and stood up from her chair, entering the apartment the two of them
shared before the blonde woman could protest.
The manual for the grill was on the kitchen counter where Franziska had
left it after Adrian had insisted they didn't need it. The young
prosecutor leafed through the thin booklet until it came to the part
about operating the appliance. Her eyes flitted back and forth as she
skimmed the document quickly—she had a knack for memorizing texts, of
course. This certainly seemed simple enough, and there was no reason why
they couldn't succeed now.
Franziska had barely taken five steps back into the bedroom towards the
balcony when she paused mid-stride. Wait. Would... Adrian be upset? Feel
that Franziska had no faith in her competence?
...had she screwed up again just by going to get the damn instruction
manual for the grill?
However, when Adrian turned at the sound of her footsteps and smiled at
her, those thoughts seemed foolish, and Franziska felt the sliver of
tension dissipating into nothingness. Still, though it seemed it was all
right now... well, there was no instruction manual for romance,
unfortunately. There was no handbook on Adrian Andrews.
Adrian's smile carried up into her eyes as she mouthed three small words
that Franziska could easily understand, even from the other side of the
bedroom.
The young prodigy froze in her tracks, glad that the other woman had
returned her attention to the appliance and couldn't see her stumble.
Within a second, she'd managed to keep on walking as if nothing had
happened, but there was an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.
Those words... Franziska knew the power that words had all too well, but
she could have never imagined that one word in particular could affect
her in such a drastic way. It was a silly word, one tossed around so
frequently nowadays that it ought to have lost all meaning. Her
spiky-haired foe would use it to describe his juvenile sidekick's
adoration of hamburgers, people would mention it when referring to their
favorite TV shows, and it seemed that every other person on the street
used it in reference to their close friends and family.
Franziska heard that single little word dozens of times a day and never
felt a thing except pity for the degeneration of the English language.
However, when she heard it from the lips of a shy blonde American woman
just before they turned out the lights in their bedroom to fall
asleep... it elicited a tremendously different response from her, both
emotionally and physically. It was foolish and inexplicable, but it was
the truth, and it was frustrating.
It was even more vexing, then, that those three little words—or indeed,
that one little word in between the others—were nigh-impossible for her
to say in response. It was foolish and it made no sense. Every time she
tried to force it out, though, her breath would catch in her throat and
she would mouth and gape wordlessly like some kind of particularly
undignified fish.
A word she could write—four simple letters, easy enough—but never say.
Nothing made sense about that damn word except her burning desire to
burst out onto the balcony and tell it to the woman outside and the
certain knowledge in her breast that she couldn't.
Instead, she purposefully walked out of their room into the cool evening
breeze, and pointed a finger at a little hole in the far bottom corner
of the appliance. "That little nozzle is where the gas comes when you
turn it on. You have to light it there or it won't catch."
Adrian blinked and pushed her glasses up on her nose, peering intently
into the dark recesses of the grill. Then, with an embarrassed smile on
her face, she shook her head. "I... don't see what you're talking
about."
The other woman sighed, and held her hand out, motioning for Adrian to
give her the candle-lighter. For a moment, the blonde woman looked
uncomfortable, but said nothing—and realization struck Franziska like
the proverbial lightbulb, accompanied by a touch of chagrin.
Franziska's hand moved to gently grab Adrian's, squeezing it ever so
softly as she guided the other woman across the scant few inches she'd
been missing the mark by. She could feel the muscles under Adrian's skin
tense as she pulled the trigger on the elongated lighter. There was a
spark, a brief one... but then it ignited into a small flame that spread
to the rest of the coals.
With an embarrassed shrug, Adrian shook her head. "T-thanks. I... I
can't believe I didn't see it there."
"You'd have seen it if you looked in the manual," pointed out Franziska,
though her gaze was still firmly fixated on the steadily-growing fire.
There had been fire back then—and the cold showers of sprinkler systems
immediately following, of course.
At the Policeman's Ball in Hamburg, Germany, almost a year ago, when
Adrian's lips had brushed across Franziska's so lightly and softly that
it might have merely been her imagination... that had been their first
kiss, and also her first kiss—the first time she'd let anybody that far
beyond her harsh, professional wall. It had been nice, of course, but
it, like everything else she was only now experiencing, was frightening
in its own way.
After all, wasn't there supposed to be another side to this whole
"romance" concept? The passion of the heart and the passion of the mind
were followed closely by the passion of the flesh, and Franziska would
have been lying if she'd tried to say she'd never since felt the soft
spark of desire within her stomach.
For some reason, though, the concept of physical intimacy scared her
most of all.
All her life, she'd been taught to be the one in control—of her
subordinates, of the cases she was assigned to, and of any situation she
found herself in. As she'd grown older, she'd slowly realized that
sometimes, that simply couldn't be the case. However, she had never
ceased to be firmly in control of one person... herself. Franziska was
her own master, and that was one of her few remaining constants in the
world.
With Adrian, though... there were moments when she felt that iron
control slipping away, even from the little things. The light touch of
Adrian's fingers on the back of her neck, the warmth of her breath
against Franziska's ear, even the faint whisper of fabric on fabric as
the blonde woman lay back—fully clothed, even—on the bed. These little
moments and tiny realizations blew that spark into smoldering embers
that threatened to ignite into a roaring flame, just like the spark of
the lighter had caught the coals of the grill.
It was only through desperately reminding herself that she was Franziska
von Karma that she managed to retain herself and push away, escaping
from the situation (with an aching part of her wishing she hadn't).
Franziska had stiffened up, her breath heavy with more than anxiety,
retreating to the far side of the bed almost reflexively, with Adrian
looking on in tremendous worry and concern. They'd both still been fully
clothed, and she still felt as though she'd almost lost herself.
Adrian had been shocked at first—even hurt—but she'd understood quickly,
and assured Franziska that it was okay, this wasn't something they
needed to do. Not there, not then.
But it wasn't okay. Not to Franziska. She was a failure as a companion
for the one person she wanted to be perfect for the most.
If there were any person in the world whom she trusted enough to lose
herself—even the slightest bit—around, it was Adrian. That much,
Franziska realized over time, was certain. But the thought of simply
being in that state where she wasn't completely in control... it was
nerve-wracking and sent cold shivers running down her spine.
She had tried. Just as Franziska had slowly let herself grow comfortable
with emotional and mental intimacy, she and Adrian had together, step by
step, moved along the physical road. It had been slow, but it had also
been progress.
Even as she grew more comfortable and less intimidated by the idea of
romantic physical contact, her own inexperience was frustrating. The
prodigy that always tried to carry herself with such poise and
grace—even after being shot—found herself fumbling clumsily, hesitating
where she shouldn't be hesitating, and just generally making foolish,
vexing mistakes. Adrian almost seemed amused at her frustration and
tried to reassure her that these mistakes didn't matter—which frustrated
her even more. Of course they mattered, if only because she was making
them in the first place!
Franziska knew her law books backwards and forwards, but didn't really
think these were situations usually covered in textbooks. Still, she was
nothing if not a quick study. While Adrian didn't claim to be the most
experienced woman on the planet when it came to matters of romance, she
was certainly more experienced than her partner, and certainly knew what
she liked.
She learned from experience, and learned quickly. There was no book that
told her about the way Adrian squirmed when her earlobes were nibbled,
nor did any published paper reference the specific moan that escaped her
lips when Franziska danced her fingers over the underside of her right
breast just so. Though she learned, it was still disappointing that
she'd made so many mistakes to begin with.
Adrian could tell what she was thinking, and she would laugh
affectionately, running a hand through Franziska's blue-gray hair. She
would kiss her gently, and tell her girlfriend for the umpteenth time
that she didn't have to be perfect for her, because the effort was
enough. Then Adrian would deftly snake her arms around Franziska's body,
lay her golden-haired head upon the younger girl's naked shoulder, and
close her eyes, often falling asleep.
The young prodigy would lie there, one arm around Adrian's half-naked
form and the other beneath her head, idly stroking her hair. Sleep was a
long time in coming, so in the meantime Franziska simply watched.
Watched as Adrian's chest rose and fell with every little breath,
watched the way her eyes moved beneath her eyelids as she dreamed,
watched the way she smiled at these unseen places and people and things.
The blonde woman was smiling in her sleep, her arms around Franziska and
her warm cheek pressed against her naked breast.
Franziska couldn't stop the little voice inside her mind that kept
telling her she didn't deserve any of this. She had tried—to bare her
heart, bare her mind, and now to finally almost bare her body. It had
been terrifying, but she had tried. Yet it still somehow didn't seem
like it was enough for someone who seemed to love her so deeply.
Feelings that were reciprocated but could never be said.
As Franziska sat back on the deck chair and watched Adrian Andrews
tackle the new challenge of actually cooking the food, she found herself
struck with a sudden, almost surprising resolve—if she couldn't tell
that woman how she felt... she would show her.
-----
Even with determination as strong as hers was, Franziska von Karma was
unable to fully banish the fears and demons from her mind. She was no
less resolute in her decision, of course, but it was... still
frightening to conceive. In everything she had done—they had
done—together thus far, Franziska had been able to still maintain her
self-control, even if by mere threads.
What would happen now? Would she be able to keep that control? Or would
she lose herself in a sea of chaotic and ecstatic fire? Franziska hated
the unknown, and here it was, staring her in the proverbial face.
However, those nagging doubts and uncertainties were momentarily
silenced as her searching lips met Adrian's, pressing together in a
fiery kiss. She could feel the heat of the other woman's body against
hers as Adrian wrapped her arms around Franziska's waist, pulling her
close in a tight embrace.
Franziska broke the kiss for a moment, pulling back and catching her
breath before moving back in, her lips lightly dancing over the curve of
Adrian's jawline up to her ear in just the manner she had learned. As
she gave the gentlest of nibbles to the blonde woman's earlobe, she was
rewarded with the sensation of Adrian tensing up in her arms and a low,
soft sigh escaping her lips, hot against Franziska's cheek.
She could feel Adrian's deft fingers searching along the waistband of
her skirt, trying to find the zipper—and she succeeded. For the briefest
of moments, Franziska's body tensed up before she relaxed again, and she
could feel Adrian pause. Her voice was breathy and hot as it reached her
ear, though there was concern in her tone. "You... you're sure you want
to do this, Franziska?"
Her heartbeats seemed to slow in her chest, even though Franziska knew
they were racing. It was such a simple act, the removal of her skirt,
and it shouldn't even have meant much—she was still wearing underwear
beneath it and still wearing her shirt. But even so... they'd been here
before, and it was here Franziska had, yet again, backed down. She'd
been unable to cross the bridge then. While she knew that Adrian and she
could theoretically stop at any time... it wasn't the case.
She would cross the bridge and burn it behind her. No going back. She
was nervous, even scared—but Franziska wanted to. Not just for Adrian,
no—not just to prove to Adrian she was a proper girlfriend... but she
wanted it. The smoldering embers in her stomach were threatening to
ignite, and she wanted to let them. "I said I was sure... didn't I?"
Desperately sure. "I meant it."
The words hung in the air between them for an infinitely long moment
before time seemed to matter again.
"All right," Adrian whispered in her ear, and she began to slowly unzip
her girlfriend's skirt—once it was loose enough, Franziska aided the
process, wiggling her hips enough to allow the garment to fall to the
floor. For once, she simply kicked it to the side instead of putting it
in its proper place... its proper place didn't seem to matter. Not here,
not now.
Even though Franziska knew she ought to be cold as the air touched her
bare skin and stocking-clad legs, she really didn't feel a thing—if not
for the flickering glow within, because her attention was thoroughly
elsewhere. She reached down to return the favor, her fingers searching
for the button on Adrian's pants. It was a simple little clasping
fastener that was easy to undo...
...but her fingers slipped and fumbled, her hand abruptly and briefly
sliding towards the side of Adrian's hips before Franziska stopped it.
Her face was a dark, humiliated red as she reached back for the button
and undid it properly this time.
She couldn't even unbutton a pair of jeans properly? Franziska stiffened
up and pulled ever so slightly back from Adrian, her face flushed in
frustration and gaze firmly fixed on the floor.
At last, Franziska forced her gaze up—Adrian had pulled off the little
tie she used to pin up her golden locks and tossed it to the side, her
blonde hair cascading down over her shoulders messily. Though she had
probably found the incident amusing, there was no trace of it on her
slender face, merely concern and affection. "Franziska," she said at
last, reaching out to rest her hand on the curve between the other
girl's shoulder and neck. "...it's okay. It was just a little slip.
That's all."
For an instant, she averted her eyes. "If... you want to stop, that's
okay too... but," she looked back up, a soft smile on her face.
"Everybody slips up, you know."
She could still quit. It hadn't been the point of no return after all...
she could still go back.
...No.
This was the moment. No other.
Her answer to Adrian was silent. She took a step forward, took Adrian's
hand in hers—their fingers entwined tightly—and brushed her lips across
the other woman's so lightly and softly that it might have merely been
her imagination. Her free hand reached down past the now-forgotten
button on the pants, finding the zipper and slowly pulling it down.
Adrian gave her hand a brief squeeze as she assisted Franziska in
removing the garment, kicking it off to the side of the room where it
fell and was promptly forgotten.
Franziska's eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark in their bedroom, but
as she placed her hands on the now-bare curve of Adrian's hips, she
could feel the thin material of her companion's modest white panties,
and could see the older girl in her mind's eye perfectly and completely.
The two moved as one, each with one hand in the other's, and one hand
grasping the other in a fierce, searching embrace. They had either taken
two steps or two hundred when the bed they shared bumped up against the
back of Adrian's knees. Adrian let herself fall back onto the satin,
cream-colored bedsheets, her soft yet firm grip on Franziska's arm
coaxing the younger woman to come join her in a controlled fall.
They were silent for a long moment, resting there together. Adrian was
on her back, her golden hair spilling chaotically out over the sheets,
her arms resting on the bed high above her head, a warm smile on her
face. Her companion was on her hands and knees above Adrian's prone
form, and for a long moment paused, an unsure look crossing her face
once more. The look didn't escape Adrian's notice, and she looked up at
Franziska over her glasses, momentary concern in her eyes. Before she
could speak, though, Franziska acted, reaching down to grab the bottom
of the other woman's sky-blue shirt and lift it up.
She lifted Adrian's shirt just enough to expose the soft rises of her
girlfriend's breasts, and almost confidently placed her left hand on the
right of the pair, her fingers digging into Adrian's flesh tenderly—this
was something she'd done before; something she knew how to do. Her
fingers found the familiar sensitive spot just above where the rise of
Adrian's breast began, caressing it in just the way she knew...
unbidden, a soft moan escaped the other woman's lips in response.
Still, Adrian wasn't just going to let the blue-haired woman do all the
work... she reached up with a hand to Franziska' blouse, undoing the
buttons one by one. This, too, was something Franziska had experienced
before, and anxiety was only a very small part of her sudden quickness
in breath as the white garment fell open. Nevertheless, even in the
dark, the sudden flush on Franziska's face as her own small breasts were
exposed was quite visible. That was natural, and she'd been expecting
it.
Adrian slowly and gently bent a leg, letting her knee rise and
eventually press against the other woman's black lace panties—the heat
at her center immediately obvious. That... was new. Though it took all
of her remaining willpower, Franziska successfully fought the urge to
immediately tense up and pull away. "Adrian," said Franziska quickly,
her voice wavering, and Adrian immediately flattened her leg, an apology
on her lips. However, Franziska shook her head, speaking again, almost
forcing each individual word out. "I... that... that was... you can do
that, if you want," managed the younger woman, moving slightly to allow
the opened blouse to fall further down her body, baring her shoulders.
Slowly, tentatively, Adrian raised her knee again—and this time could
feel faint traces of moisture against her thigh through the thin
material of Franziska's panties. She frowned, however, at the dark flush
covering the other woman's face. "...are you okay, Franziska?" she asked
at last.
The fire within was beginning to become a proper blaze, and it had since
reduced the bridge to ashes. This was long past where she'd been before,
but... it was okay, wasn't it? Her heart was pounding, her breath was
quick... she'd come this far, yes.
Please don't let me make a mistake.
For a long time, Franziska didn't answer, squeezing her eyes shut.
"I..." she started and then fell silent again. At long last, she seemed
to be able to find her voice. "I... want to... I want to do this right,"
managed the younger girl. "I want to be good but... I don't know... I
don't know what to do," she finally admitted, opening her eyes but
looking everywhere but at Adrian.
"Franziska..." Adrian's voice was soft and gentle, and Franziska finally
looked back down at the other woman, though she still didn't meet her
eyes. Adrian reached up with one slender hand, caressing Franziska's hot
cheek tenderly, and smiled she always smiled for her. Her left hand
reached down, searching and finding Franziska's own hand on the bed. "I
can guide you, if you want."
At last, Franziska looked up and met Adrian's gaze, the corners of her
lips turning upwards just slightly, a faint mirror of the blonde woman's
loving smile—but present nonetheless.
She leaned down as Adrian moved up, pressing their lips together in a
tender kiss before they both sank down onto the bed as one... entwining,
caressing, holding, kissing, squeezing, gasping, touching, rubbing,
whimpering, embracing, breathing, floating, losing, finding, building,
breaking, releasing, knowing, guiding, loving...
Back to Phoenix Wright Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction