(Just holler at me if there's any glaring spelling errors - or if it's not really that PG-13. She's not DOING anything, just bathing >_> Random inspiration yay. I always laughed at the fact she showed absolutely no skin. I think even her TIGHTS are completely opaque.)

Title: Imperfect
Author: Aaiiry
Rating: PG13
Genre: Fluff
Status: Complete
Pairing: Fransizka and her Ego
Summary: Nobody's truly perfect.

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Ugh. It was almost 3PM? How did she sleep that long? She gripped the covers of her bed, rolling over haphazardly, slapping a hand onto a clock mere inches from her face. Yup - 3PM, the clock did not lie. She paused for a moment, trying to remember why she slept so late. Coffee? No, she didn't drink it; Soda? Not that she was aware of- OH! Now she remembered. That half-assed attempt at an all-nighter to look over that mountain of case files probably was the culprit. Her fingers twitched at her choice of words; a clock on a defendant's stand made her want to pull the whip from under her pillow. Last time she remembered seeing the time, it was 8AM. How she lumbered from her desk to her bed, she wasn't quite sure.

Another haphazard roll forced her out of her bed, and she watched her feet out the door of her bedroom, walking to the bathroom with heavy, sleepy steps, and glanced in the mirror.

Instant grimace.

She ran a hand through her hair, her bangs sticking up almost straight. How the hell they did that she wasn't quite sure. Grease? Probably. She picked up a hairbrush, trying to flatten down the ends of her razored powder blue hair, to no easy avail. She sighed softly, and pushed it all back off her face with a wrap headband, inspecting her face.

Another groan.

She poked softly at the welt on her face, cursing herself for not at least scrubbing her face with a wet cloth the night before. She rummaged through all the drawers and cabinets, looking for the little tin of sewing needles she kept in the bathroom. Of course, somehow, they'd vanished. She shot a classic Von Karma glare at the blemish, and let it live - for now. She placed a finger under her eyes, soft gray irises looking at very nearly bright purple bruising under her eyes. Ugh. Bags - horrible things.

A little sigh.

Grabbing the hem of the little black bike shorts she wore to bed the night before - that she honestly didn't remember changing into, she silently cursed foolishly staying up so late - she pulled them down and whipped off her shirt, reaching behind her and clicking the clasp of her bra open, tossing it all in the hamper. She made a quick few steps to the right and reached for the knob of the shower, but not before one last glance in the mirror while she pulled the handle back.

She stuck out her tongue.

The water was warm, which was nice. She squeezed some shampoo in her hand - a combination shampoo, with the conditioner in it. Very nearly fool proof. She rubbed her hands together, spreading the shampoo combo through her hair, hearing a plop on floor of the tub. She blinked, and glanced behind her, sighing at the glob of product that escaped her hand. It really never failed to happen, it seemed. She shrugged, and lathered the rest of her hair, and scratched the soapy fluff into her hairline vigorously, trying to head off the flakes she was always quick to deny she had or had ever been cursed with. She switched to violently scrubbing with her knuckles all over her head, just to make sure she was getting the whole scalp.

She groaned softly and picked up her razor off the shower caddy she kept on the shower head, and raised her arm. She took a pass - there was still hair. She took another pass. STILL hair. A different angle. Still hair. She cursed her genes and took another pass - and there was finally an acceptable amount of hair gone. There was an instant replay of the scene under the opposite arm, and lathered up some soap.

The little green bath pouf she held was completely white with the soap it held, and she worked on wearing away the ashy gray skin on her thigh. No matter how much she scrubbed, that dead skin just never seemed to go away. Giving up on the discoloration, she slumped and finished her shower, wrapping her towel around her and scrubbing her hair dry with another, smaller towel. She patted herself dry, reaching into a small closet by the hamper, and grabbed a new pair of black bike shorts from it. A pair of waist-trimming support shorts fell out of the hamper with them; she made a face and stomped her heel in frustration, picking them up and throwing them back in. She pulled on the shorts, and an oversize white t-shirt. A long sigh escaped her lips and she fished for a straightener and her bag of makeup.

She made a face at the mirror, fishing again through the makeup bag for a concealer stick.

"You're the only one who gets to see this, you foolish mirror,"

She spoke quietly as she smeared the product under her eyes.

I like it. XD

I love how she says, "You're the only one who gets to see this, you foolish mirror."

I could picture her saying something like that. :)

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Awww! I like it too!! I love me some Franny one-shot fanfiction goodness!!

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It was a good one. Funny.

Love it. way to keep franny in character.

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Hehe I liked this. Very well in character and well thought out. It was a good read. Thanks.