Turnabout Lawful Love

Long Distance Miles

LAX Airport, Departures Gate – March 23, 2018, 9:15 pm

Miles' mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events that had just transpired, and he felt like every clichéd Fabio romance novel reference could have described him at that moment.

His heart was still wildly pounding, his pulse was racing, his breathing was still ragged in his chest…and his ears were ringing?

Frowning, he gave his head a shake and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was mostly successful as his senses seemed to calm down a tad, but still the ringing continued.

It took him another moment to realize that the ringing he was still hearing was not in his ears, but coming from his cell phone, which was insistently buzzing and vibrating in his pocket. Relieved that he wasn't completely losing his mind, and not even checking to see who it was, he hurriedly answered.

"Miles Edgeworth speaking."

"Edgeworth! Talk to me! Did you manage to catch Franziska in time?"

He blinked in surprise and quickly looked at his phone. The caller ID he'd programmed as a contact read: "Phoenix Wright, Idiot Attorney."

"Wright," he managed to finally reply. "Where are you? Are the festivities still going on at the Gatewater Hotel?"

"Nah, the party is over. Man, you missed quite the feast, Edgeworth! But we're all back home now. Maya and Pearls crashed and burned the minute their heads hit the pillow. I'm not sure if it was the gluttonous amounts of food they consumed or just the strain of all they've been through, but either way, I'm kind of relieved to have some peace and quiet right now. I got an earful from Maya all the way home for being a cheapskate because I refused to foot the entire bill for the party, never mind Lotta's camera, like they expected me to! The frizzy-haired viper had some choice words for me when I made her pitch in for the amount, let me tell you! Will Powers was a good sport about helping out, thank God. Jeez, do these people think I'm made of money or something?!"

"It's hard to have a surplus of money when you work so many cases pro bono, Wright," Miles reminded him, a wry smile creeping on his face in spite of himself. "And I'm sorry I missed out on the festive fare, but yes, I did manage to catch up to Franziska. She was most pleasantly surprised with the return of her trusty weapon of choice."

"I thought she'd be more surprised it was still in one piece after surely making Engarde eat some serious leather!" Phoenix laughed. "I'm glad you reached her in time. Is she still there, so I can thank her again for her help?"

"No…" Miles closed his eyes, and his tone unwittingly laced with despair as he murmured the words. "She's…gone."

Good Lord, had it really just been a quarter of an hour ago that he'd been holding the woman of his dreams tightly against his body while they devoured each other like a couple of crazed, hormonal teenagers? Miles could still feel the sweet taste of her on his lips and the smell the intoxicating scent of her on his skin...

There was an anguished, imploring look in her eyes when they'd at last broken their heated embrace. She'd gently pulled away from his arms, her eyes filled with love and regret as she began backing up towards the American Airlines waiting lounge.

"I have to go now," Franziska whispered, the barely suppressed tears burning a lump in her throat.

"No, you don't," Miles insisted. "After all this time, we've finally found each other. How can you just want to up and leave now?"

"It's not that I want to go," she said softly. "It's that I have to go. Germany is my home, Miles, just as surely as the United States is yours. Surely you can understand that?"

No! His heart screamed silently. I don't understand! Home is where the heart is! And without you in my life, I have a house, but no home to call my own!

These were words that could never be spoken aloud.

He was Miles Edgeworth. He was a man whose aloof and cool exterior had, thanks to his freshly renewed friendship with an emotional basket case, albeit inspiringly passionate defense attorney, had only recently thawed out enough to embrace his feelings again. But not enough to actually express everything his newly vulnerable heart was feeling. Not just yet. He'd already created enough of a show with that nearly X-rated clinch they'd been in, and had been beyond embarrassed by the whoops and cheers of on-lookers that had followed afterward. He was a composed professional. A High Prosecutor. He had to at least maintain the dignity of his office somewhat.

And that included not publicly falling to his knees and beseeching with the woman he loved not to leave him, which is what he desperately yearned to do.

"You do whatever you feel is best, Franziska," he replied, with a serenity he was far from feeling.

"Please try to understand, liebling," she whispered. "My life in Europe is all I know. And you've just given me so much I need to contemplate upon and reassess. Surely you can relate to my need to do this in the place of my childhood, as you did the same yourself last year? Plus, I may have an opportunity to interview with Interpol…"

"I do understand, Franziska," Miles assured her, this time sincerely. Good Lord, but the woman could make one hell of an unbeatable argument! Even if she hadn't brought up his own reflection induced departure, which would have made him an irredeemable hypocrite if he'd objected, she had had him at the mention of Interpol. Ambition was something they both shared, and one of the few non-toxic values instilled into them by Manfred Von Karma. Who was he to stand in the way of her aspirations and professional growth? "But I will miss you."

"I have to get on that plane now, Miles." Her eyes filled with tears as the final boarding call for her flight was announced. "But please believe me when I say that although my body is leaving America for now, my heart remains here, with you."

Public decency be damned! Miles pulled her into his arms then and crushed his lips again hers in a scorching, passionate kiss that revealed more than it could ever hope to conceal.

"This isn't over, Franziska," he promised as she turned around one final time to look longingly at him. "I meant what I said when I claimed I don't fight to lose. I'm not letting you go that easily."

"Remove your armor, liebling" she called back, blowing him one last kiss. "I surrendered my sword into your hands, along with my heart."

And then, just like in a dream, she disappeared, leaving the forlorn prosecutor behind.

Life didn't get any crueler.

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