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Mission Midwest: Weiss	By : katami Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2189 -:- 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.

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Aya shuddered faintly as the woman, Mrs. Crane, added yet another spoonful of sugar to her coffee. Coffee. He was serving coffee. Somewhere his ancestors were rolling over in their graves. As it was he was just trying to contain his revulsion regarding the amount of sugar the woman was adding. That and not strangle Mrs. Crane to stop the endless prattle coming from her mouth.

He had been ambushed forty-five minutes ago by Mrs. Crane. She had stopped by to drop of a casserole and welcome the Whites, their supposed family, to the neighborhood. Aya hadn’t realized what letting the woman in would entail. Like serving coffee and a complete halt to his household activities - mostly dying his teammates underwear pink (it was petty but his options were limited).

“You‘ll have to meet them, of course. Such a nice family the Blacks. And such a cute little baby. You’ll love them. I know! You can come shopping with Sasha, Carol and me,” gushed the woman as Aya privately vowed that he would commit honorable suicide before that happened. Naked pictures or not he was not going to go shopping with a bunch of bored housewives. He would sooner die. Bad enough he had to play a housewife, he was not going to socialize with them.

“Okay, Omi’s at school, Yohji’s at work, I want to the market, and my game doesn’t start until three, so I can help until then,” announced Ken as he strolled into the living room eating a sandwich. Eating a sandwich right over Aya’s freshly vacuumed floor. Not a plate in sight! Aya leveled a cutting glare at the brunette, wondering if it was possible leap across the room and kill him with a high heel. Yohji and Omi had taken his sword and weren’t giving it back until he swore not to hurt them. Like that was ever going to happen! He weighted his chances and decided he would probably end up tripping and stabbing himself. Damn shoes!

A trip to the mall might be in order just to buy some new clothes and reasonable shoes. His teammates had hidden all his normal clothes. Leaving him nothing but god awful dresses to wear. Hence the reason for hiding his sword and his retaliation of dying their clothing pink.

It didn’t matter. Sword or no, he was going to kill them all, slowly, painfully, and creatively after torturing all of them. He wondered if Schwarz would be willing to contract out their psycho? Surely a man who spent as much time disemboweling people as the madman did knew a thing or two about torture. Or maybe he could get Schuldig to play with their heads? Lord knew the German was annoying enough to drive anyone mad.

“Don’t eat that! I just cleaned in here!” he snarled at Ken, earning a shocked gasp from Mrs. Crane who was staring at Ken with horror.

“My son is the same way. Not the least bit of consideration. Always tracking mud across the kitchen floor right after I mop,” she said, shooing Ken back into the kitchen with a few quick hand gestures and a scowl that would have done him or Crawford proud. Aya gaped at the woman, clearly he had misunderstood what a wonderful, glorious, compassionate soul she was. And the power these housewives had. He could learn from them, he thought with a small grin as Ken meekly cowered in the kitchen.

“That was Ken. He’s my husband Yohji’s nephew. He’s staying with us while he takes a year off school to ‘find himself‘. Whatever that means,” muttered Aya. He felt a warm glow as Mrs. Crane pinned Ken with another glare.

“My nephew did the same thing. Spent an entire term doing nothing. What is he? A communications major?” Aya nodded and Ken cringed. “You should send him down to the church, our minister always needs help. And your flower beds will need some work if you intend to have they blooming by spring. Your rain gutters will need to be cleaned and the eves could do with a fresh coat of paint as well. A strong boy like him should be able to help with all that.”

“You really must stay for lunch, Mrs. Crane. We have so much to talk about,” purred Aya with delight as Ken blanched.

* * *

Omi stared at the house, the flower beds had been all been cleared and the driveway was filled with trays of flowers. When he had left for school, Aya had been vacuuming and grumbling death threats about the possibility of having to cook dinner. Something had clearly happened in the intervening eight hours. He spotted Ken, dirty, sweaty and carrying a forty pound bad of fertilizer.

“Omi? Omi, run! Aya’s joined some sort of…cult! They’re scary and insane. Call Yohji, get help,” whispered Ken, glancing around nervously, making Omi wonder just what drugs the brunette had gotten into. It had only been eight hours for god’s sake!

Ken jumped when a brightly smiling Aya peeked out the front door, his makeup not only on but perfect. “I want those beds ready to be planted by dinner, Ken. Oh! Omi, you’re home. Well, come inside and have a snack before you start on your homework.”

“What happened to him?” demanded Omi softly, wondering what had happened. Was there something in the water?

“One of the neighborhood housewives got to him,” whispered Ken with a shiver.
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