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Mission Midwest: Weiss
By : katami
Category: Weiß Kreuz > General
Views: 2189 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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
Author’s Note: This is for Phoenix who poked at me until I finished it. Thanks Phoenix!
* * *
Yohji trudged up the front walk. They weren’t paying him enough for this gig. That was certain. No amount of money was worth this. Being stuck in a grey suit all day, forced to endure an 8 by 10 cubicle, surrounded by people who constantly dragged him to meetings. What kind of company had four meetings in one day!?! How the hell was anyone supposed to get any work done? Or in his case, hack the system. Still, it was the principle of the thing. A man just couldn’t work under those conditions.
And to top it off, he got to come home to a pissed off Fujimiya. Nope, not nearly enough cash for this mission.
Ayas were prickly at the best of times, it made them interesting; but a truly pissed off Abyssinian was a thing of terror. Give him Schwarz or some nice crazy bad guys any day. All they wanted to do was kill him. Aya would really hurt him.
He dropped his cigarette and ground it out before reaching for the door with a sigh. There was no need to tempt fate and Aya’s temper by smoking in the house. The redhead already had him sleeping on the couch and Yohji wasn’t interested in seeing how much worse it could get. Not when the nights were starting to get cold and the couch had already left a permanent kink in his back.
He was met at the door by Omi and Ken, who wretched the doorknob right out of his grasp and pulled him inside by his tie. And if there was ever a better reason not to wear ties Yohji couldn’t think of it. Being choked in the name of hot sex with a redhead was one thing, but nearly being strangled by his crazy teammates was something else entirely and not fun.
“Yohji, thank god!” breathed Ken, looking dirty and panicked. His left eye was twitching and Yohji wondered if he could talk to one off the locals about getting some horse tranquilizers or something for the brunette.
“You have to do something about him, Yohji-kun,” urged Omi in a hushed whisper with a quick glance toward the kitchen. The kitchen from which there was an odd humming sound and a delicious smell coming.
Someone was cooking. Good food. Real food even. Around the shop the only way to get food was to cook it yourself unless someone was feeling generous. And even then the only ones who really had any skill were Omi and Aya. Aya hated cooking and Omi rarely had time, leaving them all to fend for themselves most nights. The food being prepared in the kitchen was nothing like that food.
“Ken, have you washed up yet? I told you, no dinner unless you get cleaned up,” called someone from the kitchen. Aya peeked his head out a moment later, his make-up on and a frilly pink apron covering his dress. “Oh, you’re home. Well, get washed up. Dinner will be ready in a minute,” announced Aya noticing Yohji.
“Wrong house?” ventured Yohji
“No! You have to talk to him, Yohji! They got him and…and did something!” screeched Ken, getting more than a little hysterical towards the end. Yep, definitely time to speak to someone about some sedatives for Ken. Maybe he should try asking Schwarz what they had the psycho on?
“What? Who got him? What’s going on?”
“The neighborhood housewives,” whispered Omi, glancing around like he suspected bugs or some enemy agent to leap out from the potted plants. And when the hell did they get potted plants?
A knife flew past and embedded itself in the door. Brown hair fluttered to the floor and Yohji noted that another inch to the left would have taken his right eye. “I said wash up,” growled Aya in a honey sweet voice with a smile that was all teeth and not the least bit warm
“Yes, Aya!” squeaked Ken, making a dash for it. Yohji noticed that even Omi looked spooked and nothing spooked Omi. Maybe Aya was the one he should think about drugging?
“Talk to him!” demanded Omi, shoving him toward the kitchen as Yohji wondered if it was too late to get new teammates, ones who weren’t crazy. Or scared of dress wearing, knife throwing, redheads. Somehow, he didn’t think the last was possible. But a guy could hope.
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