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"You look ridiculous."
"I don't think you're really one to speak, sis." Lang grinned at her, appearing to care little for her admonishment. The nerve of the man. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
"Oh, please." She snorted. "My clothes are perfectly stylish. You are the one who insists on wearing sunglasses indoors."
"Hey, now. I don't always wear them." Oh, of course he didn't, except for when he did. There were also plenty of times when he removed the glasses in a dramatic fashion. Because that made him look much less ridiculous.
"Often enough to look like a foolish fool of a fool." Which was not to say they didn't suit him, not that she would have ever told him that. The glasses were quite well suited to his general style, as strange and striking as the jacket with its ridiculous collar and the embroidered pants, and as perfect for a man who was so very strange and striking himself. Of course, all that didn't make him any less foolish.
"They protect my eyes." Lang shrugged. She hadn't expected him to take much note of her opinion, he was a stubborn fool after all, but she also hadn't expected him to simply ignore her like that. The nerve of the man.
"Surely your eyes do not require protection indoors."
"Maybe not." He turned away, then, beckoning one of his officers closer. Franziska only barely resisted her urge to whip him silly. As annoying as he was, she needed him to continue to function at least until they had finished examining the crime scene. That, and she wasn't entirely convinced he wouldn't just repeat his little stunt of catching her whip.
It wasn't like she had much time to worry about Lang, anyway. The case was a remarkably frustrating one, with an international cat burglar with a fondness for high security targets, though then she supposed that was why they had been assigned to it. Whatever one thought of his attitude and dressing style, Lang was without a doubt one of the best agents Interpol had to offer, and of course her own skills as a prosecutor could not be questioned, except perhaps by some fools who knew no better. Therefore it only made sense that the most difficult cases would be given to them, especially after they had already demonstrated their talents with the similar case of the smuggling ring. Okay, perhaps Miles Edgeworth had provided them with some minor aid in that matter, but at the end of the day it had been Lang and herself who had brought the case to a close.
It was somewhat annoying, having all of Lang's men scurrying about underfoot, but they did get the job done, and Lang seemed to more or less have them under control. Certainly it was preferable to trying to have Gumshoe do anything at all. However, even the best of men were fools sometimes, as she made infinitely clear to them all as she finally lost her calm and ended up cursing half of Lang's forces right in front of him.
"Now, now, sis." His tone was calm, almost amused, but there was a hint of fangs in his grin. "I'll admit that they didn't do everything perfectly in this case, but that is my failing as their superior." He bowed briefly at her, expression turning absolutely serious for a moment. "My deepest apologies."
"Apologies won't fix things." She struck her whip, the sound making a couple of the foolish officers jump back. Good. They had every reason to be scared. The only reason they hadn't been whipped yet was because she couldn't decide who to start with, and certainly not because Lang might have stopped her before she could do much damage.
"Then, we will set about fixing them." Lang glanced at his men, barking out a few orders, then turned back to her, not even bothering to see if they set out to do as they were told. He never checked, just trusted that everything got done. More often than not, he was right, which only served to annoy Franziska even more. "See? Just a little while, and everything will be under control again."
She grit her teeth. "If I had my way, they wouldn't have slipped out of control to begin with. With that many fools running about, it's impossible to keep track of every mistake they make."
Lang looked down at her, a hint of a sneer on his face. "I'm afraid my men go wherever I go. If that is not satisfactory to you, nobody is forcing you to work with me."
"Oh, quite to the contrary." She snorted. "I detest nothing as much as working with incompetent fools."
"Really, now." He gave her a smile full of teeth. "Is that your way of calling me competent?"
"It's my way of saying that there are worse alternatives out there." Which was the most she would ever admit aloud with him around to hear it.
"Suppose that's the best I'll get from you." He gave her a little bow, clearly meaning to mock her, before turning to follow his men out on the investigation. She'd teach him some respect. As soon as they weren't busy with the case, she would.
It wasn't like she was the problem here, anyway. It was quite clear that he still didn't relish working with prosecutors. Just because he didn't allow his ridiculous prejudices to get the best of himself didn't mean they didn't sometimes shine through, in the comments he made, or simply the way he looked at her, as though she had been a suspect. It grated on her nerves, but she held everything together. As soon as the case was over, she would let him hear what for, but for now, she still needed his cooperation. Someone would have to testify about the investigation in court, after all.
He still insisted on wearing his ridiculous jacket even as they followed the trail further, the case drawing longer than anyone had expected, spring making way to summer and the thief fleeing to warmer areas as they dug deeper into the mystery. Franziska was feeling hot enough as she was, sticking to her usual outfit even as a heat wave rolled in; watching the man in his fur and leather was making her practically nauseous. Though then, she supposed that if he had discarded his jacket, even she would have been concerned. At least now he had a proper excuse for wearing the sunglasses. She almost wished she'd had a pair, squinting as she did in the sunshine as they set out to yet another scene.
She was growing tired of this, running from one place to another, trying to gather enough pieces to put the puzzle together. There was a certain satisfaction to solving a large case, yes, but at the same time she was still more used to the simple murders, where she had one scene and one crime and one criminal to be thrown behind bars. Now every time they checked a new scene, a new crime to go with it, she could feel the solution sliding even further from her grasp.
No. That was a ridiculous thought, and not worthy of a bearer of the Von Karma name. Every time there was a new crime, it meant more evidence, more leads, more pieces to fit into the puzzle. She would not despair, but strive even harder to hunt down the fool who would dare to break the law in so brazen a manner.
"Are you feeling all right, sis?" Had she not known better, she might have almost sworn there was a hint of concern hidden in Lang's voice. The foolish fool.
"Don't be a fool, Agent Lang." She sneered. "I'm feeling perfectly well." Sure, it was unbearably hot, and she was feeling a bit light-headed, but that was simply because they had been on the move since morning and hadn't had time for a proper lunch. As soon as they had processed the main crime scene, she would take a break. It would have been foolish to drive herself to exhaustion.
"Are you sure?" What was he, deaf? "You don't look very well. Rather pale, I would say."
"Your concern is quite misplaced, Agent Lang." She hissed her words through clenched teeth. Okay, now she was getting a headache, too. That she was quite willing to blame on the foolish wolf and his equally foolish subordinates. "Turn your attention back to the scene, if you would."
He gave her a dubious gaze, but finally turned back to his work. Good. The less time he spent worrying about foolish things like a fool, the sooner they could wrap this up and she could get back to the hotel room to go over the evidence. Turning her back to him, she crouched down to examine the shattered glass left behind by the criminal, now strewn all over the floor. She'd better get a good look at it before some fool thought they were being helpful by cleaning up, or something equally foolish.
One of Lang's men called out, having found something. She got up to her feet at once, hoping that they wouldn't be foolish enough to shout about something insignificant.
She had just about enough time to realise someone was calling her name as her legs gave out under her. Before she could wonder who would dare use her first name, though, her consciousness fled in a most unsatisfactory manner.
As Franziska came to, opening her eyes with some difficulty, she was not in the large hall of the museum anymore. The room was small but pleasantly air-conditioned at least, the lights dim. She heard sounds from outside the room, people rushing to and fro, but that was all. The room itself was silent.
Closing her eyes again, she brought a hand to her face, only to halt as she felt bare fingertips on her skin. She was quite certain she had been wearing her gloves before. As the rest of her consciousness reported back to duty, she came to realise that besides her gloves, her boots were missing as well. As were her shirt, vest, skirt, and tights. She was lying on what was apparently a bench of some description in nothing but her underwear.
Franziska made to sit up, hopefully to locate her clothes and punish whichever fool had dared to lay a finger on them, only to fall back down as another wave of dizziness came over her. As she did, she was surprised to feel a cool, wet cloth set on her forehead.
"You'd probably best stay down for now, sis." There was no hint of mocking in Lang's voice, yet it somehow managed to get on her nerves all the same.
"Agent Lang." She forced her eyes open, glaring up at him. "An explanation. Now."
"It seems you had sunstroke." There was a definite hint of concern on the man's face, a testament to his foolishness if she'd ever needed one. "Too many clothes in this heat can do that."
Franziska gave a small groan. "I can't believe a fool like you would have the nerve to tell me that."
"Hey, at least I took the time to drink something every now and then." He shook his head. "I thought you looked pale."
"And I told you not to be a fool." She frowned. Her head still didn't feel like it was working quite right, but some things were certainly clear enough. "I want my clothes." And her whip. She definitely needed her whip right now.
"No can do, sis."
"I don't think you understood me, Lang." Franziska glared at him, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that she still couldn't get herself to sit up. "My clothes. Now."
"Oh, I understood quite well. I just told you that's not happening." Lang gave her a stern gaze. "You overheated, sis. You're not covering up again until you've cooled down a bit."
"I also happen to have no desire to lie here almost naked." No, she was not embarrassed, simply angry. How dare the man undress her and then just sit there as though he'd done nothing.
"Too bad for you, then." Lang leaned back in his seat. "Don't worry, I carried you here myself and made sure nobody showed up to gawk. The only one who's seen you without a vest is this foolish wolf, and you can whip me for that later if it'll make you feel better."
She started to snap at him, possibly something about how that was simply not enough and how dare he treat her like this, then snapped her mouth shut. Getting into an argument would only make her headache worse, and while she was angry, she was not a masochist. She brought her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose, not that it helped much.
"I left the lights as dim as I could." She couldn't even bring herself to be properly annoyed at the way he seemed to be reading her reactions like he'd known her or something. "Is it still bothering you?"
"I'm fine." At least as long as she kept her eyes closed.
There was the faint sound of movement, and then something settled on her face. Curiosity winning over her desire to shut the world out, she opened her eyes, finding them covered with dark lenses. Her gaze turned toward Lang. Something was off.
"These are prescription." Well. That explained why he always had his nose stuck in those dusty old scrolls when he was reading them.
"That they are." Lang seemed to have no difficulty admitting it. "I don't just wear them for appearance's sake."
"One could say it's definitely for appearance's sake if you have to have sunglasses instead of proper ones." She closed her eyes again. The lenses gave just enough of a shade, and though her headache was still there, it was at least not getting any worse. Maybe she'd even let him live.
"Sorry, sis, but you don't get to say anything about my vanity after you've fainted just to look pretty."
She should have gotten mad at him, she really should have, but instead she just found her lips curling into a small smirk. "Flattery will not gain you any favours, Agent Lang."
"I'd never be foolish enough to try to flatter you, sis." She heard him shift in his seat. "You should get some rest now. My men will take care of the scene. I've got water for you, too, once you feel like sitting up."
"Hm." She might have made some comment on how it was certainly not necessary for him to sit there just to keep an eye on her, but for now decided not to. She'd get back at him for all his foolishness later.
As she shifted her head a bit, she realised it was resting on a thick collar of fur.