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Mission Midwest: Weiss	By : katami Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2191 -:- 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
- 5
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- 7
Author's Notes: To Phoenix and the Friday Night crowd, who always keep me inspired and laughing. Love ya guys.

* * *

“Flowers,” one of the men, Mr. Jamison, suggested.

“Roses if she’s really mad,” added Larry Freeman, who worked in the cubicle next to him.

“I don’t know if flowers are going to do it,” hedged Yohji, something telling him that bringing Aya flowers would be like prodding an angry bear.

“Was she yelling?” asked Luke Philman, who worked in accounting.

Three pairs of eyes pinned him and Yohji shook his head. No yelling. Aya didn’t need to yell, he put more into an icy stare than most people could say in twenty minutes of screaming. “No, but she threw…” All three men winced.

“Jewelry,” advised Jamison.

“Flowers and a romantic dinner for just the two of you.”

“Either that or get her a bottle of her favorite perfume, a dozen red roses and grovel like hell.”

Yohji sighed but conceded defeat, it had been going on three days and Aya had not thawed about him sleeping on the couch or smoking in the house. He could do without sex or cigarettes, but both was just inhuman. Especially when he had Mary Crane or one of those other wives over at his house every damn minute of the day. He just knew they were whispering more dark and unholy advice into Aya’s ear - as if the breakfast thing and the dinner party wasn’t bad enough. He hated tuxedos, they made him look like a waiter.

The only good the woman had done had been taking Aya on that shopping trip. He had seemed calmer after the trip, although the serene little smirk on his lips every time he glanced at the silver shoes he had come home in had been a little freaky. Still, freaky smiles could be endured if it meant less likelihood of a knife flying at his head. Frankly, the whole shopping thing had been a little unnerving for Yohji. Aya had returned with more clothes than any one person could ever hope to wear and Yohji had found his closet space, much like his bedroom access - a thing of the past.

“Are you guys sure a gift won’t just make her madder? I can’t handle another night on the couch. My back is already tied in knots.”

All three men nodded sagely. “Gifts or groveling are your only options; but groveling really does work best with a gift in tow.” Yohji sighed and wondered if he could get Kritiker to reimburse him for Aya placating expenses. Probably not, the cheap bastards.

Three hours later, armed with a dozen red roses and a pair of shoes Mary Crane had told him Aya would love - he damned well better or Yohji was killing the woman. If she couldn't provide useful intelligence in his campaign to get off the couch, then she was of absolutely no use. He peeked his head in the front door, no Aya in sight, although Ken was flopped out on the sofa.

“Aya?" He asked the brunette.

A finger pointed toward the kitchen and Yohji cautiously approached. He wouldn’t say it within earshot of Ken, but Aya had been right about the front flowerbeds. They looked much better.

Yohji made his way toward the kitchen. Enticing smells were once more issuing from the room, as well as Aya's weird humming. And when the hell had Aya learned to cook? And could he bribe someone to make sure the redhead continued to do so?

Aya was washing veggies - no knives in sight and Yohji breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had at least a few seconds to get clear if Aya rejected his offering. The redhead was wearing a stylish little purple dress, something that made Yohji want to risk castration and jump the redhead right then and there.

"Hi Aya," he said, awkwardly presenting the flowers.

Aya eyed the offering darkly for a second as Yohji shoved them into his arms before holding out the shoes. Yohji didn't understand what was the big deal about them, they looked like black pumps to him. Yes, they had cost a small fortune - it was worth any price to get off the couch. Sex would be good too, but one thing at a time.

Aya's eyes grew wide and he tossed the flowers aside to stare in wonder at the shoes. "You got me Louboutin pumps?" he breathed excitedly. A delighted squeal rose from the redhead and Yohji was sure the world was ending because there was no way Aya could have squealed like a girl. He had however. He had also thrown his arms around Yohji's neck and was kissing him for all he was worth. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm going to go try them on!" And like a shot he was off.

Yohji smiled faintly. Aya had clearly gone nuts, but since his insanity looked to be getting Yohji off the couch the blonde wasn't going to knock it. He found a vase in one of the top cupboards - and when the hell had they gotten that? He chalked it up to more Housewife work and put the roses in it, hoping Aya would remember about them as well. He just might get sex.

"Oh Yohji, they're perfect!" called Aya from upstairs.

"Ken! Take Omi and go to the movies! Now!" came another cry from upstairs, this one a snarl. Yohji watched as Ken bolted upright with a squeak. He was through the front door barely a second later - Aya sure had someone whipped he thought with amusement. He stole Ken's spot on the couch, eyes widening as Aya came down the stairs in the shoes and nothing else.

Worth every penny, he decided as the redhead slunk toward him.

* * *

Ken caught Omi at the corner and grabbed him, dragging him away from their home as fast as he could.

"What the hell!?! Ken, I'm tired and I had football tryouts! I wanna go home!" snapped Omi, looking dirty, battered, and exhausted.

"No, you don't!" shrieked the brunette. "Or do you want to catch the live performance of what you recorded in the mission room?"

Omi squeaked and was dragging him away from the house a second later.
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- 7
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