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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained	By : KDSarge Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 6318 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
okay,
this chapter is dedicated to Dakota Rei. I can’t tell you how
much I appreciate your faithful reviewing. (and the sadist in me
sooo loves driving you crazy...)

Intercessions

Aya
sighed as he eased his one piece of luggage off his shoulder. Home.
Finally. He wanted to throw himself on the bed as Yohji had–luckily,
Omi had cleaned the blonde’s room while he was gone–but
Aya made himself deal with his bag first. Laundry in the hamper,
necessities put away, clean clothes...

Yohji
was all right. He was exhausted, but that was to be expected. Aya had
left him in Omi’s hands, and indirectly suggested he not leave
until Yohji was asleep. The way Omi looked at him made him think the
youngest Weiss had known that.

That
was all it had meant. Yohji had only pulled Aya into the bed because
he couldn’t sleep alone. It must be true, he’d accepted
even Schuldig rather than be alone.

Even
Schuldig. Change that to “even Aya.” Yohji liked
Schuldig, he’d run off to Hawaii with him. It was using Aya,
who had chased him and humiliated him, to get to sleep, that made it
certain that Yohji could not sleep alone.

It
was ridiculous, but the way Yohji and Schuldig had talked and teased
and worked together to irritate the rest of Schwarz the whole
flight...it was ridiculous, but it was clear the two had forged a
bond. And oh, how it had irritated Crawford.

Aya
found he could live with that. It made it hurt a little less, made it
easier to tell himself he was happy for his friend.

***

“Oh,
I’m sorry,” Schuldig said. “Did I hurt you,
Bradley?”

Nagi
sighed and floated a towel to the American. “You know hot
coffee had to hurt, Schu. Why don’t you help instead of
standing there smirking?”

“Guess
I’m still not at my best.” Schuldig stuck his head in the
refrigerator. “Nothing looks good, nothing looks–I know.”
He turned to take Crawford’s plate. “This looks awesome.”

Nagi
sighed again. They had been back in Tokyo for a day now, and Schu had
crammed more Crawford-abuse into that time than even Farfarello could
have. He had tripped him on the stairs, dumped coffee on him three
times now, started the dishwasher while Crawford was in the shower,
slipped something red in the washing machine with Crawford’s
whites, elbowed him in the face, stepped on his feet–Nagi had
even caught him downloading porn onto Crawford’s laptop. Really
disgusting porn, and doing it with the firewall and virus-scan turned
off.

Obviously
Crawford had done something horrible to Schu, he never would have run
off to Hawaii otherwise. But this was getting...hard to watch.
Crawford refused to respond, treating it all like Schu being
childish–which it was–but that didn’t bother the
German.

“You
have been awfully clumsy,” Nagi tried. “Maybe you should
see a doctor.”

“What
a grand idea!” Schuldig picked up the pepper, peered at it and
set it down. He stuffed Crawford’s toast in his mouth. And
talked with his mouth full. “What do you think, Crawford-san?
Will you get me an appointment?”

“There’s
nothing wrong with you a little growing up wouldn’t cure,”
Crawford said from behind his paper.

“Iya!!”
Schuldig squealed, and snatched the paper to thrash wildly at the
floor. He dropped it and jumped on it a few times, then handed it
back to Crawford. “Spider,” he explained. “I think
it’s stuck in the sports section. You didn’t want that,
right?”

***

“Ken-kun,
what are you doing here?”

“Omi!
What are–?”

“I
asked first.”

“Yohji
gave me a ticket, I thought I’d try it. What is it about?”

“I
don’t know. Aya-kun gave me–“ Omi dropped his head
into his hand. “That’s what Aya-chan meant, she had a
plan.”

“What
does Aya-chan have to do with this?”

Omi
sighed and led his friend to the snack line. He needed to be
fortified, Aya-chan was going to be very upset when they got home.

***

“What
is that noise?!?”

Nagi’s
head poked out of his bedroom, he shook his head signaling he had no
clue, since there wasn’t a chance he could make himself heard.
Crawford grabbed his glasses and stalked for the stairs. Damn it,
this was enough. Schuldig being petty was one thing, but this sounded
like he was taking the house down!

In
the living room the TV and the stereo were both on full volume, horse
racing and Black Sabbath, in that order. Crawford turned both off,
then followed the remaining noise to the kitchen.

It
wasn’t Schuldig. Farfarello was on his rafter, wearing Nagi’s
bike helmet, and–oh, God, Schuldig’s rhinestone clubbing
outfit. And bouncing like on a horse, whanging his mount with–shit,
with Crawford’s bronze Freddie Mercury bust!

“Farfarello!
Give me that!”

“Aye,
aye, fearless leader!”

Crawford
did the smart thing, he ducked, then scrambled to check for damage.
Damn it–

“What
the hell are you doing?”

“I’m
winning! And it’s down to neck and neck, we’re coming
into the home stretch, Farfarello on Berserker’s Babe is
drawing ahead–“

Why,
Crawford asked himself again. Why hadn’t he just gone to Wall
Street? He could have had his own island by now, beautiful men
running around in next to nothing, no Irishmen, telepaths, psychotics
or good guy assassins allowed–his eyes fell on a new appliance
on the counter. He approached with dread.

One
brand-new, bright shiny, deluxe espresso machine with built-in bean
grinder. In which were a lot of coffee grounds and the remains of
Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.

“SCHULDIG!!”

***

“What
are they doing?”

“Sitting.”

“Not
talking?”

“No.
Yohji-kun is pretending to watch TV. Aya-kun is pretending to read.”

“Hey,
you two, what–“

”Ken-kun!
Be quiet!”

“Why?”
Ken asked, but he did do it quieter. “What’s going on?
What are you looking at?”

“Aya
and Yohji ignoring each other.”

“Che!
You can watch that any time. We ought to get them drunk again, that
might make things more interesting.”

Omi
looked at Aya-chan, she shook her head.

“It
won’t work. I’ll be surprised if Ran even drinks sake on
holidays from now on. He thinks it was all his fault.”

“Of
course he does,” Omi sighed. Aya-chan rolled her eyes in
agreement.

“Now
what are they doing?”

“Yohji-kun
fell asleep. Aya-kun is looking at him now.”

“Chikusho!”
Ken growled. “Sorry, Aya-chan. And they call me stupid!”

***

Crawford
sighed as Schuldig sat down at the table. He was so tired of this. So
tired, period, he hadn’t slept in–he shoved his plate in
front of the German. Schu shook his head and shoved it back.

“You’re
not going to steal my food?”

“Nope,
just thought I’d watch you eat.”

Whatever.
Crawford hadn’t tried drugging his own food, the telepath
refused it at random, and he was not going to take a chance on eating
the stuff himself. He’d been warned that the antidote itself
was dangerous, in the absence of the poison it was supposed to
counteract.

Schuldig
was looking ill again. His eyes were red–he was, of course,
drinking, but this was more–and his hand had shaken as he
poured espresso. He was able to control it as he faced Crawford,
though, so it wasn’t yet–

Excuses.
The telepath hadn’t wavered from his campaign in six days, he
wasn’t going to change his mind in the next six hours. If
neither of them yielded, Schuldig would die. Crawford took a handful
of pixie sticks out of his pocket and laid them in front of the
German.

“It’s
a residual poison, you’ve been carrying it since you joined
Essett. Two of these a day will keep it from harming you. You should
take one now, if you have another episode this soon, it will kill
you.”

Schuldig
looked at the candies, then crossed his arms. “Since I joined.
But Essett doesn’t exist anymore. We killed the elders.”

Crawford
sipped his coffee.

“How
long have you known?”

“All
Essett talents are...inoculated. When you were assigned to me I was
given your file and a box of treated Gummi bears. When you moved to
smoking, some of your cigarettes were treated. When you quit, I got
you these.”

“What
do you feed Nagi?”

“Prodigy
takes his pills.”

“And
you?”

“I
saw it in advance, and would not permit it.”

“Of
course.” Schuldig picked up the sticks, poked them into
Crawford’s food, and pulled a lighter from his pocket. “I’m
going to die,” he said, lighting them. “And I’m
taking you with me.”

“Schuldig–“

”Prepare
your report, Bradley.” He got up. “You want to be
ready when you get to hell.”

“Schuldig,
you know that–“

”I
can.” The telepath stopped in the doorway. “It made me
stronger, Brad. I knew you were on Oahu. If I could have focused I
could have read your every memory, I could have shredded your mind.”
He smirked over his shoulder. “I won’t need to focus to
kill you, not with you this close. So unless you run from me, let me
dictate your actions, you’re going to die my death.”
He winked. “We’ll be together forever. And it’s
going to hurt.” He went out the sliding glass door and
lit a cigarette before wandering across the yard slowly, looking at
every little thing like–like a man who knew he had hours to
live.

“He’ll
kill you,” the old man had warned Crawford when he’d
picked Schuldig for his very first team. “Handle him right, or
that one will kill you.” Wild child, he’d called
Schuldig, and insisted the fire-haired telepath would never be
leashed, would never be controlled. He had suggested Crawford work
with someone older, a little more stable, more cooperative... As
always, Crawford had listened to no one but himself. He had wanted
Schuldig, and Schuldig he had gotten.

Looking
back he wondered if it hadn’t started even then, that first
time he caught sight of the pixie-thin boy sitting on a gable on top
of the dormitory, sneering at the lesser beings trying to make him
come down, go to class, do what he should, be a good boy... He had
thought the painful jolt in his chest was fate, not something so much
more mundane.

Crawford
jumped as his plate disappeared in a cloud of hissing fog. Farfarello
chuckled from his rafter. “Fire is bad,” he quoted one of
Crawford’s lectures. “Unless we are on a mission and
it is part of the plan, fire is bad.” He waved the wand of the
fire extinguisher. “Why didn’t I get poisoned?”

God,
he had been really out of it not to see the Irishman up there.
Schuldig must have known, he just hadn’t cared. “Because
if you disobey me, I can just shoot you. Mastermind and Prodigy are
harder to hit.”

“Hn.
There were things I liked about Essett. They knew how to betray a
man.”

Crawford
growled and scraped his plate into the garbage. He thought about the
living room, but Nagi was watching some obnoxious badly-dubbed kid
movie. Jamie Lee Curtis wasn’t his idea of eye candy, so
instead he went back to his room.

He
put more pixie sticks in his pocket, to have them if Schuldig changed
his mind. Then he went to bed. He didn’t sleep.

***

“Omi-kun,”
Aya-chan ran down the spiral stairs, “Ran is still–“

”I
know. Yohji-kun is here, too. He’s in his room.”

“What
is wrong with them?” Aya-chan stomped her foot. “Those
notes should have sent them running to meet each other!”

“Maybe
they knew they were fake?” Ken offered. Omi and Aya-chan glared
at him.

“Please.”

“We
probably weren’t clear enough,” Omi said. “We
should have been more...meaningful.”

“If
we had been straightforward,” Aya-chan reminded, “they
would have known the notes were fake. Why won’t they
talk to each other?”

“Maybe
if we tied them up,” Ken suggested. “Or handcuffed
them...” He ran down under twin glares, and devoted himself to
the TV again. Aya-chan tossed her hair.

“We
have to do something,” she growled. “I can’t take
much more of this!”

Ken’s
soccer game had ended, he flipped the channel and landed on an
American movie. Omi stared at the screen a moment, then leaped to
snatch the remote before Ken could change it again.

“You’re
not thinking–“

”It
could work!” Aya-chan gasped.

“It
had better,” Omi growled. “Or we’re going with
Ken’s plan and I don’t care how much you blush,
Aya-chan.”

***

“Sorry,
Schu.” Nagi eased the telepath down off the wall. “I
couldn’t let you die.”

Crawford
pushed his glasses up and put the medical kit away. Schuldig pulled
his sleeve down and glared at him, ignoring the telekinetic. “You
think it’s going to be that easy?”

“He
may think that,” Nagi said quietly, “but it isn’t
so. Berserker?”

“Ready,
Prodigy.”

“Good.”
And Schuldig and Crawford both were lifted off the floor, floating
towards the space room. Nagi ignored their yelps and swearing, tossed
them both in and slammed the door.

“We’ve
had enough,” his voice said from the computer. The
telekinetic’s face appeared on the monitor, Farfarello standing
behind him. “You two either work things out or kill each other.
I’m not sure I care which.”

The
screen went blank. In the living room Nagi leaned back with a sigh.

“I
thought you were going to tell them all that stuff about the food and
the computer,” Farfarello said, pulling out his whittling. Nagi
looked away from whatever disturbing thing it was supposed to be.

“That
was the plan,” he answered, “but I just can’t stand
to look at them any longer right now. They’ll figure it out. Or
they’ll kill each other and it won’t matter.”

***

Yohji
walked down the spiral stairs and wondered why he had to go get the
remote. Ken had taken it down there, Ken ought to go and get it. But
Ken wasn’t the one who wanted to search 250 channels for
something interesting, so Yohji was the one going to get the remote.

Life
without women, dating, clubbing, men, friends, parties, dancing...was
boring, Yohji had discovered. He had a sneaking suspicion life with
all those things had been boring too, he just hadn’t noticed
because he was drunk.

He
hadn’t given up everything, he still went out. But only
drinking a little didn’t work, he’d kept coming
home–schnockered, as Schu had put it. So he quit drinking.
Still he ended up sitting wishfully at the bar, and no one listened
to a not-drunk pathetic loser lamenting his life while he didn’t
drink. Yohji had never realized before that bartenders didn’t
actually care why you bought their booze.

Worse
than boring, though, was life around an untouchable Aya. Yohji didn’t
know what to do with himself, and far too often found he was trying
to find Aya. Who was avoiding him, so when Yohji realized he was
doing it again, he returned the favor. But even that was getting old,
he was running out of ideas. Yohji was down to long walks in the
park, and he didn’t know how many more of those he could stand.

Should
have gotten Schu’s email address, at least they could have
complained to each other.

A
mission would have helped. Killing some sleazeball child pornographer
or something would have felt really good. Not to mention he could
have admired Aya in action–

Too
late, Yohji spotted that damn orange sweater glowing in the
half-dark. He hadn’t turned the light on, Aya hadn’t
either. Apparently they were both in a moping mood.

“I
just...have you seen the remote? For the living room TV?”

Aya
didn’t look up from his book. Reading in the dark. Right. “I
hadn’t looked for it.”

“Yohji-kun,”
Omi called down the stairs, “do me a favor and turn my computer
on?”

“Hai,
hai.” Yohji poked the button and turned. Light dazzled, Aya was
being helpful. Still. It was getting scary. “Thanks.” He
didn’t see–

Ken
laughed upstairs, something slammed, sound of a drill...

“Oi!
What are you doing up there?”

Muffled
and far away, “Log in to your email!”

Aya
leaped over the back of the couch and ran up the stairs. Yohji stared
after him and wished he wouldn’t look so damn hot in motion–

“Tsukiyono!”
the redhead yelled. “What are you doing? Open this door!”

What?
Omi knew better than to play–

“Log
in to your email!”

Shit,
the kid was serious? Yohji ran up to pound on the door, Aya caught
his wrist. “There’s no point, that drilling was them
putting a bar across it.”

“Nani?
Why?”

“I
don’t know.” The redhead turned to glide back down the
stairs. “Perhaps you have an email explaining this.”

There
was an email, explaining step-by-step how to accept a network chat
with webcam and audio. The picture came up, Omi at the kitchen table,
flanked by Aya-chan and Ken.

“Aya-chan?”
Aya said. “What is this?”

“You
two are so deliberately blind,” Omi growled–Growled!
Omi!– “you don’t even know. Well, that’s
your first mission. Figure it out. We’ll be taking it in shifts
to watch for your chat in case you need anything, but we’re not
explaining it to you.”

“Shifts?”
Yohji asked weakly. “How long are you going to leave us down
here?”

“As
long as it takes.” Aya-chan folded her arms. “If you two
would talk to each other, we wouldn’t have to lock you in the
basement in the first place!”

“I
put your little refrigerator down there,” Ken said, “but
it only has nutritious stuff in it, there’s no booze, Yohji.”

“And
the TV is disabled,” Omi added. “I disconnected the
computer from the internet, you can only get email from the house
network. Aya-kun, I know you have a book, but you’ve read it
before. And I told Birman we would not be available for a while, so
don’t think you’ll be escaping because of that.”

“Aya-chan,”
Aya’s voice was soft and as cold as Yohji had ever heard it
towards the girl, “what is this?”

“Oniisan,
this,” Aya-chan leaned over Omi’s shoulder, “is
what happens when you push a Fujimiya.” And the picture went
blank. Aya turned to look at Yohji. The blonde tried to smile.

“Umm...I’ll
play you paper, rock, scissors for first crack at the book.”

***

Did
you guess the movie that gave Nagi and Omi ideas? It’s House
Arrest, and it’s lots of fun.

I
don’t know if there is such a thing as a bronze bust of Freddie
Mercury. If there is, Crawford owns it. We all knew there were hidden
depths to the man, right?

Oh,
and Celtic Creature? *silences happy snickers* I humbly apologize
for making you late for work. Miss Entropy, next chapter you’ll
get more of an idea what is going on in Fujimiya’s thick head.
At least evil got his/her question answered. One out of four isn’t
bad, eh?
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained