March 4, 2019

            As a general rule, Franziska disapproved of the sort of habits that arose out of boredom.  Nail biting, finger drumming, and other such pointless habits were the sort of behaviors only found in people who didn’t have enough drive to find something purposeful to do with themselves.  It was for this reason that she was ashamed and embarrassed when Godot walked in on her staring blankly at the wall and curling her hair around her fingers, despite the fact that there was an open police report in front of her.  She sat up straight when she noticed him and glared defensively.

            “I thought you weren’t coming in today.”

            “I’m not leaving until late this evening.  I figured we should discuss the case a bit before then.” He grinned slightly, “I noticed you were working hard before I came in here.”

            Franziska flushed, “You have no right to talk. You didn’t even come into the office this morning.”

            “I had an excuse,” Godot said, he pulled up a chair beside her so that he could look at what she had laid out on her desk.  She stared at him, waiting for him to explain further; he said nothing.

            “What is this excuse?”

            “Doctor’s appointment,” he mumbled.  “Did they really find five more people involved in this ring since yesterday?”

            “You used that excuse last week,” Franziska accused, not willing to let him end the conversation.

            “I have a lot of doctor’s appointments,” he snapped, looking up from the desk.  She looked at him thoughtfully and shrugged.

            “I suppose that would make sense.” She joined him in looking at the folder, but added, “You do seem to be a bit of a  medical disaster.”

            “Thanks, Kid.  You’re real subtle, you know that?” He frowned at her before sighing, “ I suppose it’s not all bad.  It probably helped me get off in my trial.  I’m sure the judge was pressured; no public official would ever want to explain to their constituents why they had to be pay for my medical bills.”  He sounded disgusted.  The skin around Godot’s mouth tightened, and his frown grew deeper.  Franziska’s eyes widened in realization.

            “You think you should have been sentenced, don’t you?”

            He stared back at her for a moment, his expression unchanging, “Of course.  I committed the murder; I should have served the time.”

            “Folly!” Franziska said shortly.

            “How is it?” Godot asked, his voice portraying more incredulity than anger.

            “It was an obvious case of justifiable defense.  Personally I’m surprised it even went to trial.”  She was dismissive.

            “I hated her,” Godot growled, “I wanted her dead.  I would’ve done it no matter what…”

            “But you didn’t do it ‘no matter what’.  You did it in the presence of an endangered young woman.”

            “But I would’ve-” Godot began, his voice low with a deep and self-directed fury.

            “The court does not care what you would’ve done,” Franziska said fiercely, sitting up straight and looking at him directly, “It does not care about your innermost feelings.  It does not care if you hated the person you killed.  The court cares about facts, nothing more and nothing less, and the facts show that you saved the life of a young woman.”

            Godot did not reply immediately.  Instead he looked her over slowly; taking in the strength in her position, the defiance of her upturned chin, and most of all the utter self-assurance in everything she said, which shone out of her flashing eyes.  There was no doubt in her mind that he deserved no punishment.  He did not entirely agree with her, and yet there was still a relief in knowing that his freedom was not a sham to everyone around him.  It truly meant something to have someone so deeply entwined with the law tell him that he was guiltless.

              “Thanks Franziska,” he said gently.  “Thanks for meaning it.”

            The smile that graced Godot’s face was, for once, less artificial than the mask that covered his eyes.  It was a small smile, more gentle than his usual toothy grin, and something about the unexpected authenticity of his gratitude combined with the rare use of her real name made Franziska stare with wonder.  Her heart fluttered slightly, and for the first time she found herself wanting to remove his mask, not as some immature prank, but instead in a desire to see the rest of his expression which was hidden underneath.

            “We should really get back to work,” she said quietly, suddenly averting her eyes.

            “Alright, Filly,” Godot said, his usual grin returning, “What have we got today?”

oOo

March 6,2019

            She missed him, and it was odd, because she thought she no longer possessed the ability to miss anyone at all.

            Franziska von Karma was five years old when she first felt truly alone.  Her father had always been an absent figure; a man she respected but did not completely understand.  Her mother had never been present either.  Her father had divorced the woman unceremoniously shortly after Franziska’s birth, and she had grown sick and died a year or so later without ever getting the chance to truly meet her child.  Despite this there had been, for as long as Franziska could remember, one person who was there for her; the boy that her father had brought home from America to be her brother.  Miles Edgeworth was her whole world for almost three years, and then her father had decided to take him back.  He had decided to send him away for school.

            The day that Miles had left, she watched him leave from the large open gate of the estate.  She had been forbidden to leave the grounds, and had to watch the car get farther and farther away with the full knowledge that she could do nothing about it.  She had cried that night, and locked the door of her room because she was ashamed to let the servants see her. 

            But Franziska von Karma refused to wallow in such foolish emotion.  The next day she had decided to teach herself how not to feel lonely.  Work and study had filled the void excellently, and so she sat herself down with one of her father’s law books everytime she felt her brother’s absence.  The feelings came less and less often, until eventually they stopped coming at all.  She had considered her experiment a success, and for the most part, she had not been bothered by pangs of loneliness for the next fifteen years.

            Yet as the days passed, she found herself missing Godot’s presence.  It wasn’t a powerful emotion, like the desperation she had felt for her brother back in her childhood, yet the feeling was still there.  Her days were different without him.  His smugness and his teasing had become a part of her afternoons, and without him she felt that something was wrong.

            Working alone did not bring the same joy that it always had.  It was not until he was gone, that she realized how much she valued his input and ideas.  She sat at her desk drawing angry doodles in the used up days of the month on her desk planner.  The case was getting bigger and bigger, and for the first time she did not feel sufficient by herself.  Frustrated, she stood up, and left her office.

            Franziska made her way to the break room, looking around to make sure no one was watching her.  She opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a can that was simply labeled: Blend # 25.  Don’t Touch.  She brewed a small amount and carried it back to her office.

            She set it on her desk and attempted to return to work as the now familiar aroma filled the room.

oOo

March 8, 2019

            “He should have returned by now,” Franziska said angrily, walking into Miles Edgeworth’s office and sitting heavily on his couch.  “I’m not going to keep covering for the fool if he does not come back shortly.”

            Miles raised his eyes to look at her wearily.  She was flicking her foot around in small, agitated circles, and staring at his bookcase as though she wished it would die.

            “You know, Franziska, if you are so concerned about his whereabouts, there is nothing stopping you from picking up the phone and calling him.”

            “I suppose…” she said darkly.  She stood up then and left without another word.  Miles Edgeworth sighed and went back to his work.

oOo

            Out on the sidewalk, Franziska began to dial the Godot’s number.  She frowned when she finished and brought the phone to her ear, almost as soon as she had done so, she heard music erupt from behind her.

            “Ah, Ziska, I didn’t know you missed me so much.” Franziska turned in horror to see that Godot was exiting the Prosecutor’s Building.  “We must of taken different elevators.  As soon as I got up there, Edgeworth told me you’d gone down stairs to call me.”

            “I didn’t miss you,” Franziska refuted belatedly, “I thought you were skipping out on work.”

            “Of course you did,” Godot said coming closer to her.  “Why don’t we go back up so that you can make sure I focus.”  He gestured towards the door, and together they went back inside.

            “You’d better be planning to work overtime,” Franziska scolded.

            “I can’t.”

            “Why not?” she demanded.

            “Blanca, that girl my mother’s trying to set me up with, she’s in town,” Godot explained.

            “She came back with you?” Franziska asked in surprise.

            “Not quite.  She has a new job in the city, so we came up on the train together.  She’s never lived in the city before and I promised I’d see her after work.”

            Franziska glared at him, and didn’t talk until they got back to her office.  Eventually, Godot felt compelled to break the silence.

            “Listen, I’m sorry about not staying late.”  He bit his lip in indecision for a moment before continuing.  He spoke slowly, as though he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to say what was coming out of his mouth, “Why, don’t you come by my pad this evening, and we can talk then?”

            She looked at him distrustfully, but nodded.

            “Perfect.  Come around nine, if that’s good for you.  Do you remember where my place is, Angel?” He grinned at her.

            “I remember just fine, thank you,” she told him.  She took some papers out of her desk and looked at him purposefully before putting them down.  “I think Winston Payne has been drinking your coffee,” she said.

oOo

            Franziska stood outside of Godot’s building, looking over the list of residents and their apartment numbers.  It took her a moment to find the person she was looking for; Godot wasn’t listed, but ‘Mr. D. Armando’ was.  She made her way up to his floor, somewhat nervous but refusing to show it.  She couldn’t recall having ever gone to visit anyone like this.  It had always been home or work; any type of social life had been non-existent.  But, she quickly reminded herself, that this was work, and she knocked determinedly on his door.

            The door was opened by Godot, and Franziska was surprised to hear other voices coming from behind him.

            “Hey Filly.”

            “Who’s with you?” Franziska asked quickly, glancing around him and into the house.

            “It’s Blanca, she came over with some friends.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and Franziska jumped slightly, “I’m really sorry about this.  I thought they’d just be here for dinner, but they haven’t left yet.”

            “I’ll just go,” she told him, taking a step backward in an attempt to get out of the apartment. 

            “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.  They’ve got to leave eventually; we can talk then.” Godot grinned at her, “A little socializing would probably do you some good.”

            She blushed angrily. “Fine, I’ll come in, but only so that we can work later.” Godot turned around, beckoning for her to follow.  She did so, staying very close behind him in her discomfort.

            His apartment was rather small and sparse, but the things that he did have were nice enough.  He had always struck her as the sort of person who valued classy possessions, and it surprised her to see his apartment so empty.  It occurred to her that he might not have been able to afford very much, considering the probable cost of his medical bills.

            Godot led her into the main room of his apartment where there were four people lounging about on two couches.  Two men and a woman sat on one of the couches.  The woman sat with her legs across the lap of one of the men besides her.  Her hair was an unnatural shade of blond, and she was running her fingers through the curly hair of the man she was snuggling with.  He was a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes.  He seemed to be just as interested in the girl on his lap as she was with him. 

            The other man on the couch did not seem quite so happy.  He had straight red hair and harsh grey eyes.  He sat with his feet planted firmly on the ground; his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.  He was talking seriously with another woman, who was sitting alone on the other couch.

            She was sitting elegantly with her back against the arm of the couch, and her legs stretched out across the cushions in front of her.  Her hair was such a dark shade of brown, that it almost appeared to be black.  She had a beautiful dark tan complexion, and her eyes were sharp and green.  She was laughing at what ever the serious man was saying, but she seemed more interested in looking at Godot now that he had returned.

            All four of the visitors looked to be much older than Franziska, and it made her feel suddenly babyish.

            “Oh Diego!  Who’s this girl?” the green eyes woman asked, smiling in a way that made Franziska distrust her.

            Godot stepped further into the room so that Franziska could stand along side him, “This is Franziska,” he said, “She’s a friend from work.”

            “Just a friend?” asked the red haired man.

            “Of course,” laughed the green eyed woman, “He’s not a cradle robber.”

            “Anyway,” Godot said, ignoring them, “Franziska this guy is Evan” he gestured to the red haired man, “The two love birds are Roman and Julia.  And this,” he told her, gesturing to the lone woman on the other couch, “is Blanca.”

            “Pleasure to meet you,” Franziska said, although she didn’t really mean it. 

            “You’re so cute!” Julia cooed, finally looking away from her lover.  “How old are you anyway, Honey?”

            “Nineteen,” Franziska responded through her teeth.  It was against her natural instincts to stand being talked to in such a way.

            “You really are young,” Roman said in surprise, “Are you an intern?  Because Diego, you really shouldn’t be inviting interns over to your house.”

            “She’s not an intern,” Godot said tiredly.  He sat down besides Blanca, who had now placed her feet on the floor.  Franziska followed him, sitting down on his other side.

            “I’m a prosecutor,” she told the group.  They all made noises to show that they were impressed.

            “Already?” Blanca asked, but she laughed loudly before receiving any sort of answer.  “I can’t imagine going to work at your age, I really can’t.  If I didn’t have to work now than I really wouldn’t.”

            “There’s a good ethic,” Godot said sarcastically.  Blanca giggled in response.

            “I guess my work isn’t so bad,” Blanca admitted.  “It’s a secretary job, but there’s this fat old lady who does most of the actual work; I’m really just the eye candy.”  She laughed again.

            “How long have you been a lawyer,” Evan asked.  He didn’t sound particularly interested.

            “For six years,” Franziska answered.

            “No way!” Julia squealed, “Since, like, middle school?  I couldn’t even get my homework done when I was twelve!”

            “Did you need the money or something?” Roman asked.

            “Not remotely,” Franziska said.  “I became a lawyer because I wanted to.”

            “You know I’ve always liked the sort of man who lives for his work,” Blanca announced.  Her eyes narrowed and she looked at Franziska, “But I find it a tiresome habit in a woman.”

            The silence that followed hung over the group awkwardly as Franziska and Blanca glared daggers at one another.

            “You know, I hate to break up the party but I have work tomorrow morning and there are some files that Franziska and I really need to discuss,” Godot announced standing up.

            The silence continued for a moment before Julia let out a loud false laugh and stood up, taking her boyfriend with her.  Franziska remained seated as the rest of the group all said fake cheery goodbyes.  Blanca was the last to go and she took her time leaving.  She smiled a great deal and stood too close to Godot.  With a girlish laugh she kissed him on the cheek and left, throwing Franziska a final dirty look.

            Godot let gravity set him back onto the couch.  “God,” he sighed, “ I just have no desire to get together with people that don’t matter to me anymore.”

            “Did you ever?” Franziska asked.

            “Of course.  I used to love meeting people, going to parties, that sort of thing.  Now I just don’t give a shit.”

            “That’s a sign that you’re maturing,” Franziska said seriously.  He looked at her and chuckled softly. 

            “It’s kind of ridiculous to hear that from someone your age.”

            “I’ve always been very mature,” she insisted.  He chuckled again, and they sat in a companionable silence.  “How old are you anyway?”

            He looked thoughtful for a moment, as though he were trying to remember something, “It’s 2019, right?”  She nodded and he went back to thinking.  “I guess I’ll be turning thirty-four this year.”

            Franziska’s jaw dropped before she could get a handle on herself.  Godot let out a deep and honest laugh.

            “You think I’m ancient, don’t you?” he asked her.

            “No,” she said slowly, “Of course not.”

            “Yes, you do.  Admit it.” He leaned closer to her.

            “Well,” she said smirking, “You’re still younger than you look.”

            “That was low, Ziska.  You shouldn’t say things like that,” he scolded, however he didn’t look particularly offended.  The comfortable silence returned and they sat beside one another each in their own thoughts.

            Godot glanced at Franziska out of the corner of his eye, enjoying the fact that she couldn’t see that he was doing it.  He sighed and turned fully towards her.

            “What did you think of Mia, that day that you met her?”

            Franziska was surprised, “She seemed like a very nice sort of person, and competent too.  I could have respected her.” This was the highest praise in Franziska’s book.

            “She told me to move on,” he said, more to himself than to Franziska.  “It’s easier said than done.”

            “Just because it isn’t easy doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing,” Franziska said logically.

            “Do you think she meant for me to start seeing other women?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

            “Obviously.”

            “Obviously?” he asked.

            “She probably wants you to live a full and happy life.  Conventionally speaking that involves a spouse and children.  You’re old so you can’t exactly wait long before finding someone.”  They stared at one another for a moment.  Suddenly Godot laughed and shook his head.

            “Why the hell am I talking to you about this?”

            “Because I’m perfectly perfect, and you knew that I’d give excellent advice,” she smiled at him.  Godot stood up and ruffled her hair; she frowned.

            “You came here to work, right?  I’m going to make some coffee, do you want some?” Franziska shook her head, and set about fixing her hair.  She watched his back as he left the room, and she found herself wishing that he’d hurry back.

oOo

March 10, 2019

            “I’d be willing to go, but my case is going to court soon,” Miles Edgeworth told Franziska seriously.  She was sitting across from him in his office with her head bent over a thick letter.

            “I can’t believe he kept all this in such bad shape,” she said, biting her lip in frustration.

            “It’s likely that he let this sort of business fall by the wayside when… things were ending.” Franziska looked up at Miles and raised an eyebrow before returning her attention to the letter, “It could have been much worse.  The debts may be unpaid, but it seems that there’s plenty of money to pay them with.  You’ll still get plenty in inheritance.”

            “If we can find where he put it.  It sounds like his investments were all over the place.  It might well take years to straighten this all out,” she set the letter down on Miles’ desk and leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

            “We could contact your sister and see if there’s anything she could do about it.”

            “She’s useless with money.  Besides Father got into a disagreement with her husband years ago; they’re probably not inheriting anything anyway, so why should she care?”

            The two siblings sat in silence; both staring at the letter and privately cursing it for coming into their lives at a moment when it seemed that everything was going so well.  There was a sudden knock on the door and both siblings answered simultaneously, “Come in.”

            Godot opened the door quickly, a surprisingly relieved expression on his face.  He looked at Franziska with a small and difficult to read smile, “I couldn’t find you.”

            “Sorry,” Franziska said, “We’re having family issues.”

            “What happened?” Godot asked.  He had been under the impression that her only remaining family was in the room with her.

            “Manfred von Karma has left his fortune in a deplorable state.  It seems that one or both of us is going to have to return to Germany to sort things out,” Miles said.

            Godot remained quiet, taking a sip from his mug and looking the two siblings over thoughtfully, “Have you decided who’s going yet?”

            Miles glanced at Franziska who frowned and turned to Godot, “It’s going to have to be me, at least at first.”

            “What about our case?” Godot asked.  His tone of voice wasn’t angry so much as concerned.

            “I thought you wanted to work on your own?” Franziska replied testily.

            “But Ziska, that was before we tried it.” He grinned, “You’re not nearly so obnoxious as you look.”

            “Fool,” Franziska muttered, but she smiled a little despite herself.  Miles glanced back and forth between the two of them, confused by the pleasant overtones to their insulting conversation.  He decided against commenting on it.

            “The case that I’ve currently been assigned should be going to court in a few days at the most.  I’ll be able to fly to Germany after that.  Franziska will be able to return to the U.S. before your case is even assigned a court date.”

            Godot nodded pensively, his mug stopped at his lips, “I suppose that’ll have to do.  You’ll be leaving soon, I guess?”

            “I should be leaving now,” Franziska told him, standing up.  She turned to her brother and said goodbye before heading out of his office.  She was followed by a set of heavy footsteps.  She turned to find that Godot was behind her.

            “What?” she asked bluntly.

            “Do you need someone to help you get to the airport?”

            “I have a chauffeur,” she reminded him.

            “Right,” he said.  Realizing he had nothing more to say, Franziska turned to leave. “Don’t I even get a goodbye?” Godot’s trademark grin had returned and so had the teasing tone of his voice.

            “I suppose,” she said, leaning her head to the side thoughtfully.  She looked up at him seriously, held out a hand, and plainly said, “Goodbye Diego.”

            Behind his mask, Godot’s eyes widened before his entire expression softened.  He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle, fleeting hug. “Goodbye Kid.” He whispered.

            “Well then!” Franziska said looking flustered when he had let her go.  “I’ll be going now.” She stared at him for a moment more before turning tail and hurrying away.

oOo

March 11, 2019

            Franziska had fallen asleep almost as soon as she arrived home, and her sense of time didn’t really return until the following morning.  She had then proceeded to spend the day in her father’s study going through ancient bills and making phone calls to some of his old business associates.  It was a tiring and boring process and it took up most of her time.  She saw the servants only briefly when one maid or another would come to the office to bring her something to eat.

            She found herself wondering what they did when no one was home, particularly considering that this was the general case.  There couldn’t be much to do, aside from keeping a layer of dust from settling over the house.  She wondered if they even always bothered to show up.

March 12, 2019

            On her second day on the estate, Franziska came to the conclusion that the servants were avoiding her on purpose.  She knew that there were a fair amount of them in the house, and yet it seemed that wherever she went the rooms and hallways would be deserted.  Angry she began to concoct some useless and meaningless job to inflict on the first servant she came across.  When her work grew all together too frustrating and boring, she made her way to the kitchen, certain that there would be someone there for her to punish.

            Franziska heard the head cook before she had even opened the door.  She was in the process of scolding someone rather loudly.  Curious, Franziska pushed the door open slowly so that she could remain unnoticed and observe what was going on in the kitchen.

            The head cook was a plump woman who wore her hair pulled back in a tight bun.  She was covered in flour, a matched set with the counter in front of her.  Besides her was a fluffy haired boy whose locks were the same almost transparent shade of blonde as the woman’s.  His cheeks were puffed out and he was glaring at the floor defiantly.

            “If you can’t prove to me that you can behave yourself when I bring you to work with me, how am I supposed to trust you home alone with your sisters?” the mother was asking sternly, as she took her aggravation out on the bread dough in front of her.

            “I only took some cheese…” The boy argued half-heartedly.

            “After I distinctly told you that the food didn’t belong to me, and you shouldn’t be touching it.”

            “I was hungry.”

            “Well, you’ve got to learn to control yourself then, don’t you?” the boy nodded in defeat.

            “Give me another chance, please.  If I watch the little girls than you won’t have to worry about hiring someone to baby-sit them.  It would save a lot of money!”

            “You know, most boys would be demanding money to watch their sisters everyday.”

            “I like being the man of the house,” the boy said a little smugly.  His mother laughed before running her floury hands fondly through his hair. 

            “I suppose I’ll give you that second chance then, Sweetie.” The boy grinned widely at his mother, but his expression changed when he noticed Franziska in the doorway.  He shrunk back slightly, as though he wanted to fit between his mother and the counter.

            “Ah Miss,” the cook said in surprise, “Were you wanting something?”

            The cruel job that Franziska had prepared left her mind entirely.  She had always looked down on the servants, and assumed that they were lesser people than herself.  Yet, this scene between mother and son seemed so suddenly familiar, that they transformed from mere servants to people in front of her eyes. 

            She was taken aback, but they were still staring at her and she had to say something, “I was wondering if we kept any coffee in the house,” she asked quietly.

March 14, 2019

            “You know Child, people usually drink coffee when they ask for it,” the head cook said, as she entered the office baring another mug.  For the past two days she had taken it on herself to bring Franziska coffee every few hours.  She had been so cowed by the quiet request from the woman she had known only as an imperious child, that she was now curious to know her slightly better.

            So far all she had learned was that Franziska didn’t drink her coffee when she asked for it.

            “I like the way it smells,” Franziska told the cook simply as she looked back and forth between two pieces of paper.  “I think these are the same thing.”

            “Have you considered buying a scented candle,” the cook asked, placing the hot mug on the desk where it would inevitably go cold.

            “I don’t have time to go get one,” Franziska informed her.

            “I could send my son out.  He’s desperate for something to do,” the cook suggested.

            “Thank you,” Fraziska said looking at her.  The cook smiled and left.

March 16, 2019

            Franziska sat at her father’s desk glaring at her cell phone.  She had expected Miles Edgeworth to call at least two days ago to tell her that his case was over and that they could switch places.  But he still hadn’t called, and she was still stuck in Germany doing boring paper work all by herself.

            It seemed nonsensical that she should so dislike working on her own, when she had spent so many years doing just that.  But now it seemed so unfulfilling.  Her eyes moved from the phone to the coffee scented candle that she had placed beside it.  The smell wasn’t exactly right, but then again the real coffee hadn’t been quite right either.

            As much as she tried to deny it, Franziska knew exactly why she wanted to get back to Las Angeles.  She missed Godot, or rather as she mentally corrected herself, she missed Diego.  It was more than simply being used to his presence either.  There was a fondness now, a desire for his sarcasm, his foolish grin, and those rare moments when he became wonderfully and completely genuine.  Franziska sighed wistfully, before getting a grip on herself, placing her head on the desk and groaning in frustration.

            “I brought you some lunch, Miss,” the cook called from the hallway.

            “Come in,” Franziska said, not lifting her head from the desk.

            “Is something wrong, Dearie?” the older woman asked as she placed a plate besides Franziska.

            “No,” the girl answered sitting up and glaring at the wall, “Everything is perfect.”

            “Nonsense,” the cook said, “I heard you sighing and groaning from the hallway.  Something’s going on.”

            “You are not paid to offer advice,” Franziska said, turning her frown on the cook.  The woman stayed watching her seriously.  Suddenly she broke into a grin.

            “You’re in love with someone aren’t you?” she squealed in delight.

            “What?  No!” Franziska told her loudly.  “Go away; I’m done with you.”

            “Oh, I’m so happy for you, Dearie,” the woman gave her boss an unwanted hug and hurried out the door.  Franziska let her head fall back onto the desk, deciding that the cook was foolish.  She remained there for a moment and then her phone rang.  She shot up abruptly and grabbed it with just as much speed.  She was glad no one was there to see her.

 

Continue!