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Mind Games and Coffee	By : Solaras Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 5491 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine. All its characters and affiliates are also
not mine. Nothing involving Weiss Kreuz
is mine. Sadly this is true.

Author Notes: Sorry
about the delay. I had some writer’s
block with this chapter. It was like the
scene from Secret Window (for those who have seen it), where Johnny Depp was
sitting at the computer going ‘no more bad writing’ and just deletes
everything. Also I read a bunch of
Farfarello fics while writing this and the influence is noticeable. I just had to play with him a bit. Not sure where some of this chapter came
from. I started it and then just went
off on all these tangents. I would go
back and read and be like where in the world did this come from. But I got it together and here it is chapter
four.

Oh yes! I’m please with how well die Großmutter went over. Thanks to
everyone who reviewed.

Review Responses: Wow so many!

ryushin – Haha no
I’m not German. I never knew any German till I read Weiss fics. Thankfully I don’t seem to be butchering the
language to much. I’m trying to keep the German usage to a
minimum, with mostly words found commonly in Schuldig fics.
He just seems like someone who would prefer his own language, specially for cursing. But I agree that to much German
gets confusing cause you have to scroll back and forth
from the translations. As for Schuldig, I think he has a short attention
span and probably never thought of Brad in that way seriously. Yeah he’s
attractive but also a lot of work to get to. As for what comes next, only
Solaras knows ^_^ (Well at least a little bit)

The Gaff/spa/span> – Thanks a
lot. Schuldig will definitely play some more. After all he might
get bored otherwise.

tanisou
– Glad you liked the chapter. I should have chapter five ready
soon. So you won’t have to wait as long for the next update. Not
too much BradxSchu this chapter, but the next one
*evil grin*…well lets just say Schuldig will be
Schuldig.

Lillie – Thanks. Schuldig is my
favorite character. Hopefully the story will continue to be well
written. Chapter five shouldn’t be a long wait.

Nozomi – Hehe I had
fun with the elevator. But I’m not done with Schu’s
multi-faceted personality yet. Enjoy the new chapter.

Cami – Glad you
like the story. Maybe by the end you will like Schuldig a smidge
more. Unless you just don’t like annoying redheaded Germans, then it
might be a lost cause. ^_^ And yes Brad will end
up in some interesting situations.

Pandora – I’m glad you are enjoying the
story. I hope I can continue to write good characterizations.
*sigh* only time will tell.

setosprincess
– Thanks a bunch and I intend to write until the story ends. P.S. Seto another hottie *swoon*

eMu
– Yay! Someone else to convert to this pairing.
I’m not even sure how I got hooked on it myself. Hope you enjoy the new
chapter.

the smiley bandit – Thanks. Glad you
like the story. I have no intention of stopping.

~telepathy~ aka communicating

/thoughts/ aka
Schuldig reading someone’s mind

German Words:

Verdammt – Dammit

Mein Gott – My God

Chapter Four:

The meeting
with Takatori was not going well, at least for a certain redhead. Schuldig was seething. The politician was attending a business dinner
with several other lofty individuals, and had wanted Schwarz there as a show of
power. Takatori fully enjoyed flaunting
his new ‘toys’. As beneath them as the
whole task was, the little dinner party wasn’t what had Schuldig so livid. He was used to boring bodyguard duty. It was Takatori’s thoughts that were riling
the telepath.

~He’s doing
it again,~ snapped the irate German.

~Just
ignore it,~ replied Crawford sternly.

~How am I
supposed to do that? I am supposed to be
keeping an eye on his thoughts, am I not?~ Schuldig hissed through the mental
bond.

On the outside
the assassins looked calm, if not bored.
Crawford stood respectfully behind Takatori’s chair, but not so close as
to appear looming. The light glinted off
his glasses concealing his eyes from those at the table. Schuldig slouched on the window seal directly
across from the American, smoking a cigarette.
The evening sunlight created a fiery halo around his head. Nagi sat in the far corner of the private
dinning area furiously typing away on his laptop. Farfarello leaned against the wall beside the
hacker, admiring the way Schuldig could pass for a fallen angel. He puzzled over whether the comparison alone
could hurt God. Schuldig’s existence
surely had to hurt God, as did the rest of Schwarz. Maybe if Estet found the key to immortality,
and Schwarz stole it, God would just curl up and die. From there Farfarello’s thoughts continued to
circle around how to desecrate the great liar.
As for Takatori, he sat at a round table with five other influential
people, completely oblivious to the mental conversation going on.

~Just focus
on anything useful to us,~ sighed Crawford to the telepath.

~You know
that’s not how it works,~ Schuldig growled mentally, ~whatever he is actively
thinking I’m going to pick up by default.~

~We won’t
be here much longer.~

~Can’t I
kill him?~ pleaded the telepath.

~No.~

~Can I at
least go throw up.~

~Schuldig…~
Brad gave a long suffering sigh.

~Hey,
you’re not the one who has to deal with this!
Shall I send some of the mental pictures to you! Verdammt!
At least let me wrench these ideas out of his head,~ Schuldig finally
pleaded. ~Mien Gott, I don’t even think
I bend that way!~

From the
moment Takatori had laid eyes on the German, he had more than business in
mind. The Japanese tycoon enjoyed
beautiful things, and most of all he enjoyed having power over beautiful
things. In his mind Schwarz were his
property, and Schuldig was icing on the cake.
Takatori wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation of the table,
but instead he was covertly staring at the redhead across from him. The sunlight had turned that lovely mane into
molten lava that cascaded around his face and over his shoulders. That same light played across elegant
features: piecing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and soft supple lips. Even beneath that hideous green coat, the
politician could discern the slender and lithe frame. Takatori had so far been reluctant to
proposition the assassin, as he was unsure of the German’s true strength, but
Estet had said he had full control of the group. It was only a matter of time.

Oh, the
things he would do to the pretty redhead.
Perhaps tie those slender wrists with silken ropes, and lay him among
black satin sheets. Throw those
impossibly long legs over his shoulders and fold him practically in half. Maybe the politician would just send the
other teammates out of the office and take the German bent over the desk. Stroking the pale flesh till he screamed. Would he scream? Would he cry out? Would he moan like a wanton whore? Takatori had heard the redhead was somewhat
of a slut, that he went out to clubs and bars and didn’t come home till the
next day. Takatori didn’t mind that, he
would teach the German who owned him.

~Brad
that’s it! I’m killing him! Own me indeed. Like I would submit to such a weak mind,~
Schuldig yelled into Crawford’s mind.

~Calm
yourself Mastermind! You can not kill
our employer,~ said Crawford more forcefully than intended before regaining his
mental composure. ~Don’t worry it’s not
going to happen.~

~How can
you be sure?~ argued the enraged telepath.
~It wouldn’t be the first time those Estet bastards have used the
bedroom to gain an advantage. It
wouldn’t be the first time they’ve…~

~There is a difference this time
Schuldig.~

~What?~ sneered Schuldig.

~You are a part of Schwarz and we
take care of our own. Remember Schuldig
one day Estet will fall before us.~

~And until then who will keep
Takatori at bay? As long as we are
playing the nice lapdogs for Estet, I’m not allowed to fuck up his mind, or at
least until he’s of no further use to them.~

~I’m not going to let anything
happen to our team.~ Schuldig barely
caught the ‘you’ before the thought was drawn behind the clairvoyant’s shields. ~Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?~ Crawford sought out Schuldig’s eyes, locking
their gaze.

~No,~ came the mental whisper as
the German broke eye contact. ~You
always take care of me,~ he said with a sigh, ~be careful Brad, I might just
think you care.~ Schuldig’s reply was
colored with a smirk.

Crawford almost gave a physical snort
and not just a mental one, but the telepath had a point. He always took it upon himself to look after
Schuldig. When ever the redhead had a
mental breakdown, and his shields were broken, Crawford put him back together. It wasn’t that he just forced medication down
the delirious German’s throat either. He
sat with the telepath, and strained his own mental barriers to protect
Schuldig’s helpless mind from the thoughts of the world.

When they had first met, Schuldig
had still been fighting against the voices.
Crawford had forced him to clean himself up and get stronger; he had
foreseen the power the scrawny boy could wield.
Once the little redhead had gone through withdrawal from various drugs,
and had started eating again, Crawford had been amazed at Schuldig’s
appetite. At first the boy had been
quiet and wary of the strange American, but soon he began to appreciate the
company; his natural desire for attention coming through. He was intelligent in a crafty way, and life
had left a malicious edge to his personality.
Schuldig would be perfect for Crawford’s plans.

The clairvoyant didn’t worry about Schuldig hurting Takatori, yet. The telepath was loyal to Crawford, or at
least to the plan for Estet’s destruction, as were all of Schwarz. Brad had selected the other three assassins
specifically to help him escape from the iron hold: Schuldig for his flippant disregard for
authority, Farfarello for his destructive personality, Nagi for his intellect
and disillusioned view of the world, and all of them for their potential for
power.

Crawford would not give Takatori
the opportunity to get to Schuldig. He
would not allow the disruption of Schwarz.
He would not allow anyone to disturb his vision of the future. Schwarz was his, Schuldig was his, and no one
would interfere with this.

“Well gentlemen it is time I
depart. I have a few more affairs to
deal with before I call it a day,” said Takatori. Brad was pulled out of his reverie by the
scraping of the old man’s chair.

“Ah yes, the time certainly has
gotten on,” announced one of Takatori’s constituents also rising from the
table.

As the businessmen said their
goodbyes, Schwarz prepared to leave.
Schuldig preformed a mental scan of the area, searching for possible
threats, not that they expected any. After
assuring the area was safe, the telepath gave a slight nod to Crawford, who
then signaled Nagi and Farfarello to move.
When Takatori made for the door the assassins fell in step with him. They exited the building with Crawford and
Schuldig walking on either side of their employer, Nagi and Farfarello trailing
a few steps behind. Schwarz stood as a
human barrier on either side of the door, as Takatori got into his sleek black
limo, and then entered themselves. Schuldig
made sure to positioned himself so that, Crawford sat between him and the
ambitious businessman.

The ride was not very long. Soon the Takatori building was looming over
the limo. The imposing glass and steel
construction no longer impressed the members of Schwarz, if it ever had. Upon seeing the building Brad was often
reminded of Schuldig’s first scathing remarks about Takatori’s need for
compensation.

Once outside the car, Takatori
rushed up the steps, already on the cell phone with his secretary. At Crawford’s more relaxed pace, Schwarz hung
back. The Oracle seemed to stare off
into space for a moment, a slight crease forming on his forehead. His return to the present was signaled by the
removal of his glasses.

“Takatori will not need us for the
remainder of the day,” stated Crawford while cleaning his glasses, which
Schwarz knew was a habitual cover, allowing time for his vision to adjust after
an unexpected vision. “Schuldig, go with
Farfarello and get the car. Nagi, you
will come with me for the official dismissal.”

“Why do I have to get the car,”
whined Schuldig.

“Because I said so, now go do it,
and keep an eye on Farfarello. Nagi and
I shouldn’t be but a few minutes,” Brad replied as he returned the thin frames
to his face. He then started towards the
entrance with Nagi trailing behind him.

“Feh, do I look like a chauffeur,”
scoffed Schuldig.

“No,” replied Farfarello.

“Thank you,” huffed the irate
redhead.

“You look like a German slut. Chauffeur would be a complement,” stated the
madman while his golden gaze followed a group of school children.

“Least I don’t look like I belong
in an asylum.”

“May not look, but doesn’t mean you
don’t belong,” Farfarello said as he slid a hand inside his vest; his pale fingers
playing over the edge of a knife.

Schuldig followed the one eyed gaze
to the children on the other side of the street. They were dressed in matching uniforms with shiny
crosses around their necks. A Catholic
school group perhaps, on their way to an evening mass. Girls in plaid skirts and knee socks skipped
up the sidewalk with pony tails swinging, and gossiping about the boys in long
shorts trailing behind them.
Farfarello’s cat-like eye followed a young Japanese girl near the
front. Her long glossy hair was swept up
into pigtails, and her dark eyes were squinted in laughter. A leather bound Bible was clutched to her
chest.

/Death God Hurt Blood/

The Irishman’s thoughts flowed
through Schuldig. Farfarello’s mind was
like a hurricane, a red hurricane. A
whirling chaos of destruction, all centering around one focal point: God. As insane as the Irishman could be, he could
be just as lucid and focused. The man
was extremely intelligent, but undeniably broken. Through Farfarello, Schuldig could see the
schoolgirl, not as she was laughing with her friends, but as the madman would
recreate her. For that is what he would
do. He would take of God’s creation and
twist it into his. He would lay her upon
a canvas of brick and stone, and then paint with her blood. He would strip the flesh from bone, and mold
of the gore a gift for his God.

The telepath could easily be swept
away by the strong mind beside him. He
could follow in Farfarello’s wake and not distinguish between whose hands did the
carving. He could gorge himself on death
while drenching himself in life’s blood.
For a moment even the jaded Schuldig could believe in a ‘God Almighty’. From somewhere outside of the swirling chaos
came the brush of shields stronger than the German’s could ever be. Schuldig gave his mind a good mental shake.

“Damn precog,” he muttered, “Oi,
Farfarello!” said Schuldig snapping his fingers in front of the Berserker,
“No.” A single golden eye swiveled to
pinpoint the interruption.

“The loss of a sheep so young will
hurt Him. The pain will rip apart his
heart, and He will know that I still hear Him, that I still hunt Him.”

“Not now, we have to get the
car. I’m sure Brad will let you go out
later…” Schuldig stopped his retort as Farfarello turned to face him
fully. Piercing gold met blue.

“I want to hurt Him now. I know that you were in here,” the Irishman
said placing two fingers on his right temple.
“You saw, you know. You can see
the red like I do. You can feel the
hunger that I do. You, who hear like
God, help me bring the liar pain.”

Schuldig hated being the only one around when
Farfarello got like this. When his
hatred for God clouded his judgment and took forefront in his thoughts. The need to cause God pain had to be
purged. Farfarello hadn’t gotten the
chance to kill anyone recently, and was sorely overdue. The telepath was only too aware, at times
like these, how much physically stronger the Irishman was. Schuldig may have a slight height advantage,
but he was willowy and built for speed, where as Farfarello was built like a
predator. Since the psychopath didn’t
feel pain, nothing short of Schuldig frying his brain would slow him down
either.

“There are too many witnesses. Later, you can hunt later,” Schuldig spoke evenly
with a relaxed expression. Farfarello
would jump all over any sign of weakness.
The German let his mind rest gently against the madman’s, exuding a
sense of calm.

“Don’t think I don’t know what
you’re doing Guilty one,” Farfarello hissed and took a step closer to the
redhead. “I can feel you in my head.”

Schuldig knew Farfarello was
telling the truth. For some reason the
telepath could never hide his presence from the Irishman. Maybe it was in the way Farfarello’s mind
worked. The man didn’t feel pain after
all; something was wired wrong up there.
But Schuldig would bet everything he owned that the knife wielding
assassin had some sort of twisted version of a talent.

“Knowing and stopping are to
different things,” Schuldig smirked, “There are other ways to cause pain. Make God wait. Make him suffer the agony of not knowing when
or who. He will twist and writhe on His
throne while you string Him along.”

“You just don’t want Crawford to
yell at you,” chided Farfarello.

“There are better things to argue
about than you, Farfie. But you have to
admit my idea has promise. After all I
am a master of games. Play games with
God Farfarello. Play as the cat does
with the mouse.”

“The cat will kill the mouse,”
whispered the Irishman.

“Yes, and he will have fun doing
it.”

“Then I will be the cat, and
corrupt another of God’s creatures.”

“I’m sure He cringes even now,”
Schuldig grinned.

The Irishman gave a nod and turned
his back to the flock of young sheep.
Schuldig gave a mental sigh of relief that he would not have to pull out
the plastic seat covers. He glanced
again at the girl who had almost become Farfarello’s masterpiece.

“Games with God. Would such an all powerful being even care
about such an insignificant creature?” sneered Schuldig.

“God cares because she believes the
lies He tells,” Farfarello said once more at the telepath’s side.

“Such pretty thoughts…” said
Schuldig softly, his eyes glazing slightly.

/Red/

“You hurt God Schuldig.”

“Do I now?”

“God doesn’t like that you hear as
He does. God doesn’t like that the
Guilty one possesses His gift.”

“Perhaps I should let your ‘God’
know that I don’t like him either.”

Across the street the children
screamed. A nice red stain would mark
the sidewalk and a nice uniform would be ruined. Glossy black pigtails would not sway in the
ground. Doctors would say it was a
violent aneurism. Schuldig, Farfarello,
and his ‘God’ would know better.

“Shall we get the car?” stated
Schuldig indifferently.

“God cries.”

“Why, it’s not that bad of a car,
although, Brad could have at least gotten a less boring color. Who wants a beige car?”

“I thought you said later.”

“Red now that’s a color for a car,”
Schuldig rambled as he started for the parking garage.

“I like red,” agreed Farfarello.

~I know~ came the nasal reply in
the Irishman’s mind. ~Sometimes I like
it just as much, but I might not later.~

The two assassins pulled the beige
BMW around the front of the Takatori building just as Crawford and Nagi came
out the door. This was no surprise to
either of the occupants of the vehicle, as of course, Brad Crawford always had
good timing. The man was never late or
early; he arrived at the moment of best opportunity. That was the benefit of being such a powerful
clairvoyant: the ability to see the future’s endless possibilities and choose
the best one.

For Brad the sight of police and an
ambulance across the street was no surprise, thus he did not bother to spare it
a moment’s glance. He had traced the
path of choices and events to this outcome.
He had set the stage for the girl’s death by having Schuldig stay
outside with Farfarello. It was the only
acceptable outcome, at least for Schwarz, and that is what mattered. Everything had worked out according to
vision. Farfarello had gotten to hurt
God, though indirectly. Schuldig was
away from Takatori, and otherwise occupied, while Crawford would be able to
tell the tycoon that Farfarello would be unstable, thus Schuldig was watching
him.

Had all four assassins entered the
building, Takatori would have initiated his plan of seeing Schuldig alone. Such a turn of events would only end badly,
perhaps even bloody, if certain choices were made. The German was too much of a wild card to
predict the end of this future. Brad did
not like to take risks with uncertain variables. His stomach churned at the thought of the
Japanese pig touching Schuldig. He would
even admit, to himself, that the idea infuriated him. Had he always been possessive of the
redhead? Brad couldn’t say. But one thing was for sure, if the telepath
didn’t stop lounging around in shorts, Brad would never get any work done. The clairvoyant really didn’t need the
distraction.

Yay! Another chapter down.
Like I said I don’t know where some of this came from, but I think it
turned out ok. Next chapter will have
lots more of Schuldig flirting. See ya
next time and as always reviews are greatly appreciated. ^_^

Solaras
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Mind Games and Coffee