You'd think Phoenix would be used to it, having lived with the von Karma family for almost ten years now, but still; he doesn't like when they go out for dinner and leave him stranded and starving for hours. Sure, he could go out borrowing. It wouldn't exactly be difficult. The house is empty, he knows where everything is, and it's not like there's even the slightest chance of getting in trouble for it... But borrowing feels... Beneath him, at this point in his life. Perfect prosecutors don't "borrow." And... Maybe his borrowing skills have... Rusted in recent years. Besides, why bother. If he only waits it out, Miles or Franziska always, without fail, bring him some sort of leftover.
He doesn't have to wait long. In walks Franziska with a little box of... Something. She tosses it on the dresser next to Phoenix's house and throws herself onto her bed.
"Uh... Rough night?" Phoenix calls to her as he heads for the box. Franziska answers, but it's muffled from her laying face-down on her pillow. Phoenix is too busy wrestling with the box to respond, but he's sure he heard a 'fool' or two somewhere in there.
"I brought you back some paté. I hope you enjoy it." Franziska lifts her head just enough to be heard, and Phoenix can tell she's... Crying? Just a little bit, it seems like she's trying to suppress it, but it's there.
Phoenix looks at the food, hears his stomach grumble... And looks at Franziska, clearly having the calmest emotional meltdown ever. He sighs, and makes his way over to sit on the edge of her nightstand.
"N-nothing!" Franziska sniffles. "F-f-f-fool!! Just... Go eat your paté and leave me alone!! I don't need you!!"
"Fine." Phoenix pats his lap and stands up, going back to the box of paté and dragging it back over to his spot close to Franziska. She lifts her head up a little to look at him with one eye as he takes his first bite.
"Like it?" Franziska wipes a year from her eye. The look on Phoenix's face tells the whole story.
"Um... What... What, exactly, did you say this was made out of?"
"Duck liver." Franziska rolls over and sits up a little bit, wiping her nose.
"Duck... Liver... Huh...?"
"You don't like it. Hmph. Predictable. Why would I expect a foolish little borrower to have a refined enough pallette for food of this caliber? Isn't your kind known for eating garbage, after all?"
"Hey now, you know I haven't eaten out of the trash since I was a kid!"
"Right, right, of course. Then again, I seem to recall having to fish you out on occasion..." Franziska smirks at him.
"Objection, just because I fell in doesn't necessarily mean I was eating-"
"Use whatever excuses you want, little Phoenix Wright. I know the truth." Franziska chuckles to herself. Phoenix sighs.
"If this is so good, why don't you finish it off?"
"B-because..." Franziska's face gets a little red. "Because I'm not hungry. It's not good to overstuff yourself."
"... You didn't like it either, did you?"
"What are you talking about? I'm not some... Common, foolish buffoon! My pallette is the most perfect, most pristine, I only eat the highest quality foods. I simply had my fill of paté at dinner and I couldn't bear to eat another bite! That's all. Don't be such a little fool, Phoenix Wright." Franziska's stomach audibly growls. Phoenix bursts into laughter. Franziska's face gets a whole lot redder and she pinches Phoenix's cheeks between her thumb and index finger to shut him up, gently knocking him over and pinning him down with the rest of her hand. They stay like that for a moment, until Phoenix pushes against her fingers and she lets up, helping him sit up.
"You wanna... Grill a cheese?" He asks.
"Grilled cheese, Phoenix Wright? Isn't that a little, hmm... Childish?"
"It's a classic! What do you have against bread and cheese?"
"...nothing. I suppose I can grill you a cheese, if you won't eat that... Delicious paté. And since it would be impractical to make one your size, I will simply have to eat the excess myself." Franziska holds out her palm for Phoenix to step on, and makes her way to the kitchen. She's careful to make sure her father is occupied and won't unexpectedly barge in on her.
She lays out a spread of fancy European cheeses and picks out a few she thinks would complement each other well, layering them between two slices of artisan bread and firing up the panini press. The two watch as the bread flattens and crispens, and the cheese gets meltier and gooier.
When it's finally ready, Franziska cuts off a borrower-sized chunk from the corner, careful to make sure it's not too much crust and retains a portion of every type of cheese in the mixture. This could very well be her culinary magnum opus and Phoenix is not having a second-rate version of it. Once Phoenix has his share, Franziska is quick to bite into hers herself. She starts to let out an audible "mmm" but quickly stops herself. Don't wanna look too excited for something so... Basic.
Phoenix can clearly see how eager and excited she is for this sandwich, despite how well she thinks she's hiding it. Sometimes he forgets that she really is... Just a child. Between how mature she tries to be and how much she towers over him and treats him like a child, it's easy for him to believe she really is older than him. But then... She loses her mind over a grilled cheese. And he remembers.
"I'm... Going to miss this." Franziska says, about halfway through one triangle of sandwich (the proper way to cut them, according to her).
"What do you mean?" Phoenix looks up at her.
"Well, with Miles finally getting to be a prosecutor in America... And you going with him... That just leaves me. Here." Franziska slams her fist on the table. "Left... Behind..."
"No one to grill cheese with..." Phoenix sighs. Franziska turns away, but Phoenix can see a tear or two fall from her eye.
"It's not fair! I'm every bit as good as he is! Why can't I just..." Franziska grumbles.
"...well... I-is it even legal to become a prosecutor at your age? Aren't there, like... Child labor laws?"
"There is no minimum age. Believe me, I've checked extensively. I'm... So close... If he... If you could just... Wait for me to catch up..."
"I... I'm sorry, Franziska. Miles wants to go back home, and I... Well... It'll just be a lot easier, living somewhere I don't have to constantly hide out of fear for my life... I'm kind of amazed I've gone this long without ending up as a..." Phoenix shudders. "...stain under your father's shoe..."
"Have I not done a good job protecting you? Do I really have to lose both of you at once?!"
"...I know. I'm sorry... I wish it didn't have to be this way, but... Hey. We've still got a few days. We can still make the most of our time... Right?" Phoenix looks up at her, trying to crack a bit of a smile. Franziska looks at him, wipes her eye, and scoops him up into a hug.
Franziska takes the half of her grilled cheese that's left and knocks on Miles' bedroom door. He accepts.
The three of them spend a good, long night together.
