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The Hazards of Dating	By : katami Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 1801 -:- 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
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Author's Notes: To Phoenix, whose insanity never fails to delight and inspire me.

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Crawford was in a snit. It was easy to tell because when Schuldig accused him of being in a snit he denied it rather than ignoring the telepath. Of course Crawford in a snit wasn’t all that different from Crawford not in a snit so it didn’t bother Farfarello much. Besides, he didn’t see what the American was so upset about, the Discovery Channel was doing a week long autopsy special, they had plenty of snacks and both he and Schuldig had been good this week. The threat of being denied cable was a surprisingly effective one. Who the hell really cared if the baby went out? Frankly, better the Weiss kitten than that Schreient bimbo. At least the kitten had claws. If he'd had to listen to Schreient rant about Masafumi one more time he would have had to rupture his own ear drums.

Farf checked the clock, Nagi was suppose to be leaving on his date at any time now. The kid had been getting ready for the last hour and Crawford had been getting twitchier. He had taken Schuldig’s advice and ignored the whole ordeal, preferring to focus on the autopsy on TV.

“I’m going. I’ll be home by eleven and I have my cell and the .22,” announced Nagi as he paused at the bottom of the stairs.

Crawford glanced up from his paper, took in Nagi’s appearance and then retreated back into his paper with a soft grunt. About as close to approval as the baby was going to get. Farfarello glanced away from doctors removing a spleen to see what the kid had settled on. A light blue button down shirt and dark slacks. He pondered the kid’s appearance before taking a marker and white board and holding up a 6.0. Nagi frowned.

“What the hell are you wearing?” sputtered Schuldig, stumbling to a halt on his way back from the kitchen, nearly spilling the beer he had gotten. “No! Absolutely not! No way!” snarled the telepath.

“Leave him alone, Schuldig. Nagi looks fine,” muttered Brad without looking up. Schuldig glared at his lover before grabbing Nagi and dragging the protesting baby upstairs. “I did not go to all the trouble of getting Brad to agree just to have you fuck this up.”

“Trouble?! I had to pay you!” shrieked Nagi in retort.

“Details, details.”

Twenty minutes, several thumps, and a kidney later Nagi returned. This time the little telekinetic was dressed in leather pants tight enough to have been painted on and a black mesh shirt. His hair was mussed, there was glitter on his face and kohl lined his eyes and turned them from lovely to stunning. Farfarello smiled and held up his white board - a 3.9.

Nagi didn’t have the chest to pull off the mesh and there was no way he had the attitude. Schuldig had the attitude, even Crawford could have pulled it off - if he wore his contacts. Hell would likely freeze before that happened, but the fact remained that Crawford could have made it work. Nagi would never be able to pull it off.

“3.9!” snarled Schuldig as Brad peaked out from behind his paper, took one look and said one simple word.

“No.”

“Why the hell not? And 3.9? I’ll have you know the kid looks damn fine,” snarled Schuldig, hissing like an angry cat.

“He looks like a Malaysian whore. Change, immediately. And burn those clothes,” snapped Brad. He and Schuldig locked gazes, sparks flying between them. They were arguing telepathically, a blind man could have seen that, and from the bleed-over across the team link Farf could tell it was going to be one of their bad ones.

With a sigh for the remainder of his autopsy, Farfarello beat a hasty retreat, the baby in tow. It was never wise to be in the line of fire when Crawford and Schuldig fought, spillover was just too likely. “Wash off the glitter, but leave the eye liner,” he told Nagi, giving the kid a small shove towards the bathroom while he raided the boy’s closet. They would have to take the baby shopping again, he noted with annoyance. Clothes shopping for Nagi was an ordeal at best and a disaster at worse. It took all three of them, with Nagi inputting loudly to get the kid a passable wardrobe.

“Why don’t you just say it?” snarled Schuldig angrily from down below. When Schuldig started mixing verbal and non-verbal it was time to seek shelter, or at least that was Farfarello‘s experience.

“I refuse to talk to you if you’re going to be unreasonable,” growled Crawford, who should have known that sanity or reason from Schulidg was impossible. Especially when they were fighting.

“Just say it, you fucking bastard!” screamed Schuldig, several thumps and the sounds of glass breaking drifted up to the second floor and Farf winced slightly. Throwing things was a very bad sign. If Crawford was smart he would stop now and retreat. If he was really smart he would run like hell and not return until whatever shiny bauble he had used to buy his way back into Schuldig’s good graces had arrived.

Nagi emerged from the bathroom, the glitter thankful gone and his eyes still skillfully lined. He would give Schuldig that, Farf privately admitted, the telepath knew how to do make-up. He absently handed Nagi a silk shirt, dark blue, and button down. “Wear that. Button the middle three buttons,” he told the kid. Nagi glanced dubiously at the choice but obeyed. When he was done Farf looked him over and nodded his approval.

The baby looked sinful. The leather pants showed off his legs and ass, the deep blue of the shirt highlighted the pallor of his skin, and the eyeliner made a dark smoky mystery of his eyes. The Weiss kitten didn’t stand a chance.

Shots rang out from down below and Crawford yelled, “Goddamn it, Schuldig! You nearly hit me!“

“Good! Fucking bastard!“

Nagi winced. The baby didn’t like it when Crawford and Schuldig fought. Farf admitted he wasn’t fond of it, but that was more the risk of friendly fire than any concern for his teammates. Nagi just didn’t like it. Then again, Brad and Schu were probably the closest thing Nagi had to parents and Farf still remembered his own misery at sitting up listening to his own parents fight, so perhaps the baby’s concern was understandable.

“I would suggest the back door,” he offered with an air of disinterest. Frankly, he didn’t care if Nagi got to go on his date or not; although after all the fuss it would be a bit of a waste if he didn‘t go. If the baby was quiet he should be able to get out without Crawford or Schuldig seeing him. They tended to be fairly focused when fighting.

Nagi give him a slightly offended look, before softening it as he caught his reflection in the mirror. “Schuldig has a TV hidden in the attic,” offered the kid. Farf knew that but nodded his thanks anyway, it wasn’t often that Schwarz made peace offerings to one another.

“Remember, the best way to the heart is to come up from under the ribs,” Farf reminded him before heading toward the attic and hopefully the end of the autopsy.
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The Hazards of Dating