Chapter Text
At the Reach Foundation biannual gala, Adrian stands to the left of Franziska and slightly behind her. She holds the stem of her champagne glass tight and sips on it politely, resisting the urge to down it in one. It would be nice to take the edge off but getting tipsy isn't a good idea. She'll get too nonchalant and say something stupid. Probably.
She wants to be here with Franziska, of course she does, but Franziska has only just arrived home after two weeks working a case in Italy and Adrian never feels like she fits in at events like this. Never quite manages to belong.
After Franziska's father passed away she inherited a vast sum of money. It seems silly to say passed away when the man was executed but Franziska is sensitive on the subject and Adrian has learnt to be delicate when it comes to Manfred von Karma. He died leaving no will, no power of attorney, and refused to see any of his children before the end, as if he had expected to survive right up until the last moment. So everything, money and property on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, had been split three ways between Franziska, her sister and her adopted brother. It had been far more than any of them had expected.
Franziska doesn't like to talk about it much, but fact is, she ended up very well off. But she does things with the money her father would never have done. Charity, for one. Hence their presence at this gala. The Reach Foundation supports people to gain skills, find employment and 'transition themselves out of poverty'. Adrian secretly thinks there are far more meritorious charities they could be supporting, but it was very Franziska. 'Helping people help themselves,' she liked to say. And Franziska may be abrasive--rude even, some might say--but she knew how to manoeuvrer around people like this. Old money. Unlike Adrian, she isn't intimidated. She grew up in this world while Adrian only interlopes. She holds herself tall and fills up the entire room with her presence as Adrian shields herself in her shadow.
Adrian prefers it when she has Franziska all to herself. Curled up the sofa watching shitty tv or going for a walk in Griffith Park. Or taking Franziska someplace she's never been before, which is surprisingly easy considering her weirdly precocious yet sheltered upbringing. She'd never even been to a regular movie theatre before Adrian took her on a date. Adrian suppresses a smile at the memory of Franziska's face when she got popcorn butter on her merino wool sweater.
Sometimes Adrian worries that Franziska is simply slumming it. One day she's going to be at an event like this and meet some politician or professor or surgeon and leave Adrian behind. A taller, more successful, smarter, domineering woman who can give Franziska what Adrian knows she really wants.
Case in point. They're talking to a group of well-dressed, self-satisfied guests and there is one particular woman holding court. Felicity Hargreaves. A human rights lawyer wearing a baby blue suit and matching bow tie. Cool, confident and standing a head taller than Adrian to boot. And although Franziska definitely isn't flirting, Adrian can tell that she's into her. The flush she gets high up on her cheekbones gives it away.
Felicity is asking about Franziska's job. Franziska loves talking about her job. Her busy, busy, oh so important job.
Adrian decides to down her champagne after all and almost misses Felicity addressing her.
"And what do you do?"
"Uh," says Adrian, surprised to be noticed.
Franziska swoops in. "Adrian is currently freelancing."
Adrian puts on her coolest smile. At times like this it's difficult not to slip back into a facsimile of Celeste, a role she played for many years. Smug. Serene. She totally doesn't care that she's currently unemployed. It's fine. She's not going back to looking after some spoiled Hollywood asshole again, that's for sure. She prefers looking after her spoilt girlfriend, despite it being Franziska who is paying the bills right now.
"I'm an entertainment consultant."
"Showbiz then," says Felicity, like that's boring. But this is LA. You're going to rub shoulders with people in the industry wherever you go.
"Not quite," says Adrian. "I help direct and manage events and exhibitions. Like this one." She gestures at the tables and the place settings and the stage, as if this gala could easily be an event she directed. Franziska says it's fine to take her time to find something. No rush. But god, finding a new job hasn't been easy. Especially after that whole business with...
"Oh wait. You were in the papers," says Paloma Carranza, next to Felicity. A casting agent. Adrian had researched the names and job titles of all the guests. She supposes it makes sense that the others had too. "That exhibit at Lordly Tailor, with the theft."
Felicity's eyes widen in recognition. "You're the one who shattered that ancient urn!"
Adrian wishes Franziska had just made a donation. Then they could've stayed at home.
"The breaking of that urn proved instrumental in solving that case, and helped to restore the artefact to it's original appearance," says Franziska.
"Really? I never did know the details. But the cases that Phoenix Wright likes to take on are always ridiculously showboat-y, aren't they?"
"The exhibition was a great success, despite all that," says Adrian, but the conversation has already moved on. They switch to talking about the Los Angeles court system and eventually she excuses herself, unnoticed, and spends the evening eating her way through a crass number of canapés by the bar.
They don't stay late. Franziska finds her before ten pm and asks if she would like to go home. Their apartment is on the top floor of a mid-rise apartment block with views of downtown glittering in the distance like clumps of quartz. Adrian's presence fills the space with cushions she picked out decorating the sofa, books she's reading piled high on the table and plants she waters tastefully arranged along the wide windows. Franziska's work with Interpol means she frequently travels and her presence in the apartment fades when she's gone. Adrian misses her.
Franziska tugs off her gloves and toes off her shoes at the door and watches as Adrian picks them up and places them in the closet. "You were quiet this evening."
Adrian shrugs. "You know I don't really fit in with that sort of crowd."
"So you say. A foolish notion. Surely you have attended enough award shows and events to belong?"
"That's different. Celebrity stuff is different. You don't have to make conversation with people who lose interest in talking to you as soon as they find out you didn't attend an Ivy League."
"Don't be silly. Only a fool wouldn't want to talk to you. You have a great amount of knowledge on many subjects."
"I'm not being silly. It's just...they're a different type of superficial. You don't understand. It's not easy when your work history involves two media circus murders. It makes me feel like a clown."
Franziska scoffs. "One of which I too was involved in. Do you think me a clown? Or that I, Franziska von Karma, would allow myself to be seen with anyone I thought of as a fool?"
And Adrian can't help but smile at that. "Of course not, but--"
"But nothing! You are a dazzling, capable woman," says Franziska, stepping into Adrian's space and lifting her chin, making Adrian look her in the eyes. "And the most beautiful woman at the gala too."
"The most beautiful? Tell me more," murmurs Adrian, giving in. She slips a hand around Franziska's waist and pulls her in close.
"Easily the most beautiful. I saw many people looking at you, no surprise considering how stunning you are in this dress, but only I get to take you home and take you out of it. And they have no idea how talented you are too."
It's almost easy to believe it when Franziska says it with such certainty. Franziska sees so much in her and it makes Adrian want to be that person.
Franziska takes her hand and leads her into the bedroom. They kiss as Franziska unzips Adrian's high-necked halter dress. It falls in a pool on the floor. Franziska is wearing a dark green, velvet dress with long sleeves and slit up to her thigh. It takes a little more work to get her out of, but soon they are both in their underwear, hands and lips on flesh, familiar and warm. Adrian dances her fingers down Franziska's spine and under the slippery fabric of Franziska's panties. She likes the contrast between her practical cotton underwear compared to Franziska's expensive silk and lace. The silk feels nice on the back of her hand as she caresses Franziska's ass before moving round to the front. With one finger she finds Franziska's clit and moves in light, teasing strokes.
Franziska moans into Adrian's mouth and opens her legs a little wider. She kisses her deep before pulling back and asking, a little breathless, "Have you been practicing?"
Adrian bites her bottom lip. "You want to? Tonight?"
"Yes. I've been thinking about it while I was away. Quite often. Distractingly so. Please.”
Adrian would have preferred less of a performance in bed tonight but the please convinces her. There is something about hearing Franziska von Karma ask for this, from her, that has Adrian shivering with pleasure. From Franziska, a please is practically begging.
“Alright.” Pulling her hand out of Franziska’s panties, Adrian turns and opens the ottoman at the foot of their bed. On top of a pile of bedding and blankets lies the whip Franziska gifted her. Exquisitely braided leather with a deep blue handle. Adrian's favourite colour. She gives it an experimental crack and Franziska's mouth drops open.
"One moment," says Franziska, her voice husky. She unclips her bra and slides off her panties, barely giving Adrian a moment to enjoy the sight before she's crawling onto the bed and laying flat on her stomach.
Adrian watches as Franziska arranges pillows and sheets and gets herself comfortable, waiting for further instruction.
"I'm ready," says Franziska. "Start on my back and don't be gentle. I don't need warmed up. I want it to feel sharp."
Adrian moves to the side of the bed. She takes a moment to touch Franziska's shoulder blade, running her fingers over the expanse of pale, unmarked flesh. Then she stands back and hits that same spot, the whip licking across Franziska's skin, just like Franziska taught her.
Franziska groans into the bedsheets as a thin red line blooms across her back. She arches into it and demands, "More. Again."
So Adrian provides two more lashes in quick succession, moving down Franziska's back. Franziska moans again, and Adrian can feel the sound of it in her cunt. It's good. She enjoys servicing Franziska like this. Knowing how much Franziska trusts her, the noises she makes when Adrian hits her just right. The praise that Franziska will give her when they're done and spent. And it's nice seeing the lines that are left, the way they remain on Franziska's body for days after. The marks Adrian made, even if she was told where to put them.
They don't have a safe word. No need. Franziska calls the shots.
"Adrian, a little harder. On my thighs."
Adrian knows Franziska likes it when the whip hits her just in the crease where her ass meets the top of her thighs. That's where it hurts the most. It's a hard spot to hit and Adrian usually ends up cracking Franziska across her ass more often than not. It does look nice as it starts to glow a rosy red though. Adrian wants to touch it. She wants Franziska to ask her to use her hands. To spank her. But Franziska never does. It's the pointed pain of the whip she craves and Adrian is too afraid of disappointing her to ask.
Franziska always asks Adrian to hit her harder. To give her more.
Adrian grunts as she brings the whip down. Franziska gasps. She wriggles and moans.
"Oh Adrian, that's it, that's good. But faster. Don't hold back. Hit me hard. I can take it."
Adrian thinks what Franziska really wants is someone less timid than her. Someone who can easily hold their own against Franziska's imperial disposition. Someone with a wardrobe full of black leather and a case full of canes who will beat Franziska without second-guessing or worrying about getting it right and take her down to that place Adrian knows she craves. Someone like...like Felicity Hargreaves, probably. Adrian bets she'd be good at this. Felicity would be all confidence and sweet cruelty and turn Franziska into a puddle, barely able to form words.
"Ah! Adrian, my god, that's...oh, please. More!"
"Yes," says Adrian. "Anything for you," and she hits Franziska harder, an angry red welt forming immediately across the curve of her ass. She wonders what it would look like if Franziska lay on her back. What her stomach and breasts would look like all bruised up. Franziska always lies on her front. Is it so she can pretend Adrian is any number of women? How many of those she talked to tonight could be standing in Adrian's place, right now?
She brings the whip down again, a little angry, and more than a little off the mark. It hits Franziska's flank and her skin splits open like a volcanic fissure. Bright red blood welling up like lava and spilling down her side.
Adrian drops the whip. "Oh my gosh! Fran! I'm so sorry!" she cries, grabbing a handful of tissues from the nightstand. She scrunches them up and brings them to the cut. They look like red carnations as they soak up the blood.
"Don't be," breathes Franziska. "My god. Don't be."
She rolls over, onto her back and spreads her legs wide. She's trembling. Taking Adrian's hand, she shakily pulls it down to her cunt. It's hot and soaking wet and Adrian only has to slip one finger inside before Franziska arches off the bed and comes.
In the morning, Adrian makes German apple pancakes. Franziska had mentioned, once, how much she enjoyed them as a child when the housekeeper made them, so Adrian had learnt how to make them as a Valentine's Day treat. They're a bit too much like a dessert for Adrian's taste, but Franziska has a very sweet tooth and Adrian is still feeling guilty about the night before.
She serves them with scoop of vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce and is rewarded with one of Franziska's rare, wide smiles. A sight just for Adrian to enjoy.
"If this is what I can expect for breakfast I wish I was home for longer. This is wonderful, Adrian."
Because yes, Franziska is never home long. She's required in Borginia in two days time. Adrian makes herself smile back and says, "If I thought pancakes would keep you home longer, I'd make enough to open a diner."
Franziska laughs. "That would be quite the career change. But these are certainly good enough to sell."
"I'm glad you like them."
"Talking of work," says Franziska around a mouthful, "There is something I wanted to speak to you about."
Adrian freezes. For a moment she worries, irrationally, that Franziska is tired of supporting her. That she's going to tell her she's too needy. Too dependant. "Oh?"
"It's something I've been thinking about for a few weeks now. A job for you. At Interpol."
"Me? Work for Interpol?"
"Yes."
"Fran, I can't work for Interpol. That isn't...it's not my background at all. What could I possibly do for Interpol?"
Franziska's smile turns smug. She helps herself to another bite of pancake. "Administrative assistant. Specifically, my assistant. I know, it's beneath what you're capable of. Your skills would not be tested but...I would enjoy your proximity. And I trust you."
Adrian's heart leaps. She can't help but like the sound of it. Working closely with the woman she loves. Working for her. But she doesn't want to repeat past mistakes. "I don't know. It might not be a good idea," she says.
"Technically, you wouldn't be working for me," says Franziska, like she's reading Adrian's mind. "You'd be working for Interpol. You would be my subordinate, certainly, but I won't be in charge of you and there has always been room in the budget for me to have an assistant. I've simply never taken advantage of it before. I deemed it an unnecessary expense."
"Because you're already perfect in every way."
"Naturally."
"And you're not worried hiring me would muddle with that persona?"
"Of course not!" scoffs Franziska. "I think you'd be wonderful at the work, if overqualified. It is because I trust you and no-one else that I would even think of offering you the position. And you wouldn't be required to travel with me. You could work remotely. Therefore you can stay here in LA and continue searching for a more desirable role. But it's easier to become employed when you are already employed, is it not?"
"I guess you're right."
Franziska droops a little at Adrian's muted response. "Don't feel obliged. You are not indebted to me. It is simply that I know your search for work has been taxing and I thought this role might alleviate some of the stress. If I am wrong, don't worry yourself. You may take all the time you wish to find what you are looking for."
Truth is, Adrian is ready to grab this opportunity with both hands. Remote work is fine and all, but the idea she might be able to worm her way into travelling with Franziska is what has her excited. It's hard spending so much time apart. It's like Franziska has a whole other life without her in it. But she doesn't want to seem clingy. She's meant to be leaving her 'dependant nature' behind. Celeste always travelled with her though, always kept Adrian by her side, even when she was dating those two dummy's. And Adrian would have followed her anywhere.
So Adrian tries to play it cool. "I'll think about it," she says.
But Franziska is smiling. They both know Adrian is going to say yes.
The salary is generous for an assistant position. More than Adrian made as a manager. She wonders if Franziska pulled some strings, but they don't talk about it. The job is more demanding than she expected. There is so much to learn. Mistakes were not easily tolerated in the entertainment industry, sure, but dealing with courts and foreign police and making sure Franziska is prepped, prepared and supported, the stakes feel higher. She can't be careless. But Franziska was right. It's good to be busy.
Some of the work makes her squeamish. When it comes to murder, Adrian has seen enough to last her a lifetime, but it's not like she needs to know the details of every case Franziska is assigned. Mostly it's about making sure she takes care of Franziska's needs, so Franziska can concentrate on work.
It turns out that Franziska is far more disorganised than Adrian ever realised. She's so focused on reading case files and brushing up on the intricacies and intersections of international law, everything else falls by the wayside. She arranges meetings that clash with flights, misses paperwork deadlines and makes notes to follow up on things that she never actions. It reminds Adrian of when they first moved in together. In contrast to Franziska's perfectly put together appearance, her home was a mess. She lived like she still had housekeepers to pick up after her. She was as likely to purchase new clothes as remember to do the laundry and the kitchen was oddly grimy despite the cooking she never did. The situation had caused some of their first ever arguments. It isn't that Franziska is lazy, but rather the opposite. She's so focused on work that everything else becomes neglected in turn.
So Adrian turns her attention to Franziska's work calendar. This is where her strength lies. When it comes to micro management, Adrian is in her element, and anything else she needs to learn, she picks up as she goes.
She learns that Franziska tracks more than on her calendar than appointments for work. There are personal notes too. Franziska tracks her period, each cycle a near identical twenty-eight days long. Perfectly regular. Of course, Adrian thinks, rolling her eyes, but here are other things too. Contact information for Felicity Hargreaves (ugh) and something about setting up a scholarship fund. A note that it's her little brother's birthday in a month's time. Adrian is pleased to find that her own birthday has been set with a reminder. Pity that Franziska has somehow set the reminder to alert her two years in the past rather than in the future to come.
So alongside court dates and flight information and reminders for meetings and reviews and calls, Adrian begins making personal notes too. She sets a reminder for Franziska to call her brother on his birthday and makes a note for herself the week before to purchase him a gift. She emails Felicity and finds room in both their schedules for a video call. She makes sure Franziska's purse is stocked with tampons a few days before she's due.
Experimentally, she puts in a reminder for Franziska to pick up mangoes the next time she arrives back in LA.
When Franziska gets home with a dozen ripe fruit, Adrian smiles. She teases, "If I'd have asked you to bring home some food, you'd have forgotten before you even left the airport. But if your phone pings you, you'll let it tell you what to do!"
Franziska huffs and blushes. "Nonsense. I know they're your favourite. I would never forget your favourite."
"Uh huh," Adrian laughs. "I think that if it comes from your calendar, your brain treats it as work. And it's easier to remember that way."
"Perhaps," concedes Franziska. "It has been useful, the reminders. You're very good at what you do. But of course, that's why I wanted you."
And Adrian is very good at what she does. If she hadn't plugged every little thing Matt Engarde should be doing into that stupid wrist phone of his, he probably wouldn't have been able to roll out of bed in the morning. This isn't like that. Franziska is different, of course. But still, managing every minute of her life? It's the same, but not. For one, Adrian is enjoying it. Wrapping herself up in the minutia of Franziska's day-to-day, it's soothing and exciting. And if she instructs Franziska to do something? It gets done.
She schedules in some time for Franziska at the airport to go to duty free and pick up her favourite perfume. Franziska does. There is something thrilling about that.
When Adrian realises she can schedule Franziska to call she's almost giddy.
Franziska can easily get so wrapped up in a case she doesn't have time to call. Or she forgets to. Nothing is as important as the job. Adrian gets it. She knows how Franziska grew up. Doesn't stop it from being frustrating though.
So she wants her girlfriends attention, what's wrong with that? Scheduling a call in Franziska's work calendar isn't that clingy. It's not.
It takes a little rearranging. She bumps the video call with Hargreaves, sends an email apologising for the short notice cancellation and writes herself in instead. And like everything else Adrian has scheduled Franziska to do, Franziska does. Adrian feels like she should have realised this before. Requests fall by the wayside, orders get a response. It isn't like Adrian didn't know what Franziska likes, but it was hard to be that person. How do you access that side of yourself? She's not some bossy, whip-wielding dominatrix, sneering and insulting, she can't put on that persona like a PVC catsuit and lace-up boots. But Adrian does know how to be in charge. She can be organised. Decisive. Confident. And as Franziska calls her all the way from the other side of the world, because Adrian said so, all the self-loathing parts of her seem to slide away.
She feels smug. It's easy to let that feeling take control.
"Hello Franziska."
"Adrian." Franziska is sitting in bed, her blouse unbuttoned, showing Adrian the curve of her breasts. It's nine pm over in Athens but Adrian can see papers and case files strewn about the sheets.
"How is the hotel?" asks Adrian. She's practically purring she feels so good.
"It's wonderful. Thank you for booking it for me. It is, however, a little far from the other agents?"
"You said that staying in close proximity to Lang was annoying, due to the noise from his team? There are one hundred of them, right. And this place is close to the Areopagus. You told me once it was the 'world's oldest known court'. I've arranged some time for you to visit."
"Very thoughtful. It was an idle complaint, I didn't mean you needed to move me. You always do more than I could expect."
"I like to exceed expectations."
"You always do," says Franziska softly. "You surprise me at every turn. I love you."
Adrian knows that her girlfriend loves her, but Franziska hardly ever says it. Pure delight bursts through Adrian's chest and settles like a warm blanket under her skin. "Oh, so tell me. Did you like getting a notification about this call?"
"I did."
"Mmm. Have you been thinking of me?"
"I have," says Franziska, her cheekbones starting to colour that pretty shade of coral pink. "I look forward to getting home and seeing you in person."
"A whole week to go yet. A long time." Adrian licks her lips. She steels herself. She's never tried anything like this before, but she wants to push. "If I was there right now, what would you want me to do?"
Franziska looks startled. She pushes her hair behind an ear and leans in. Adrian can see right down her blouse now. She's not wearing a bra. "I-I would want you to kiss me," she stammers. "Push me down on the bed."
"Crawl on top of you?" asks Adrian. Franziska loves it when Adrian lies on top of her, letting her full weight push her into the mattress. Adrian has never done more than that, but now, despite the screen between them, Adrian wants to do more. "Would you like it if I held you down? Took hold of your wrists and kept them above your head?"
"Y-yes," gasps Franziska. Her breath is hitching. Adrian can tell she's already remarkably turned on and wonders why she's never dared to try this before.
Adrian moves closer to her laptop and whispers, her voice husky. "You should get undressed."
"What do you want me to do?" asks Franziska, pulling her blouse over her head and quickly shimmying out her mini skirt and pantyhose.
Adrian thinks of asking her to do the obvious thing. She would like it if Franziska leaned back on the pillows and opened her legs, putting on a little show, but she decides on something else instead. "I want you to hurt yourself," she says. "That's what you like, isn't it? Hurting. So you should do that."
Franziska gives a little moan. "H-how?"
Usually, Franziska calls the shots regarding how she'll hurt and when. So Adrian stumbles over the question, before she grasps an idea. "Hmm. Start with your nipples. Kneel up for me and pinch them. And do it hard enough so I can see it hurts."
Franziska arranges herself as instructed and bites her lip as she pinches a pert nipple tight. As always, it takes Adrian's breath away how beautiful she is. The swell of her hips and the neatly trimmed puff of hair between her legs. Her firm, smooth thighs. She slips a hand into her slacks, dips a finger into her cunt and uses the wetness to circle her finger over her clit.
"Is this good?" asks Franziska. She sounds hesitant. It makes Adrian's head spin, hearing Franziska von Karma breathy and unsure.
"You're gorgeous," Adrian says. "You should use your nails. Scratch your breasts. Make marks for me to see."
"Yes. Yes," Franziska moans. She digs in hard, leaving little red crescents on her pale skin.
Adrian's cunt thumps. She's enjoying this, perhaps more than she has ever done. Listening to Franziska's little whimpers and moans because Adrian is telling her what to do. Making Franziska hurt her way. Why had she been so scared to be pushy before?
"Please," says Franziska, dragging her nails down her breasts to her gut. "Can I touch myself?"
"Only if you pinch," gasps Adrian. "Only if you squeeze your clit hard enough to hurt."
Franziska moans and spreads her legs wider. Adrian moves her hand fast between her legs and comes hard, listening as Franziska screams on her command.