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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
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’s Notes:

            Pokes
Adultfanfiction… Is it working now? Oh look my stuff is back, and all my reviews! Happy Day!
I was so sad when I thought I would have to reload everything.

            Once
again I apologize for this taking so long.
I’ve been in a rut, and either couldn’t think of what to write, or it
all sucked. Plus as always, my computer
is a piece of junk. Anyway, I finally
seem to be coming out of the rut, so perhaps the story will actually get
written now. Let’s hope shall we.

Review Responses: YAY! I hope I get everyone…

eMu3 – Look I’m not
dead! Well maybe slightly mummified, but
still moving. Hopefully all the chapters
survived the recent downtime. I haven’t gone through and read them all yet, but so far so good. Aww, Schuldig’s not
dumb; just self-absorbed. Well it is
Schuldig, so maybe he has telepath airhead moments.

CC – I’m such a bad
writer. Really I shouldn’t be allowed to
post, unless the story is already finished.
I will finish the story… eventually.
I’m just slow.

YaoiLoverVixen
– I’m happy that you’re happy. ^_^ I know, I know short chapters. They will get longer. Chapter ten is looking to be a hefty one.

Janen –
Volkswagen….. Oh sorry got distracted.
If a one-shot involving the back seat of a car shows up, it’s your
fault. Sorry I take so long in updating. I’m like that sometimes, but I will always
come back eventually. Hope you’re still
around to keep reading. I’d hate to lose
such a faithful reader like you, due to my slacking.

Nesia – Aww,
thanks. You even logged in and came
back. I feel loved, and bad for not
updated quicker.

Random Loser – Yay for lurkers!
Poor Crawford, of course Schu has to drive him
insane. ^_^ I
wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aurael – Of
course Schwarz isn’t mindnumbingly insane, just the
normal insane (except Farf).

SavvySiberian –
You read that horrible piece of fluff (Phantoms). I’m sorry.
It’s so fluffy that I’m embarrassed by it LOL. But I suppose everyone has those moments,
even assassins, when you just have to be sappy.
I’m glad you like my work, and even hung around for the big ‘is she ever
going to update’ piece. Just remember
when in doubt, assume I have writer’s block, and check back in two months. :P

Harmonie Des Anges – I love your description of Farf
*snickers* It’s
so true in so many ways. I always like
to hear good things about Großmutter. I
was so nervous when I first introduced her, but it has turn out really
well. Keep an eye out for her in the
future.

Leviathan – Really I
did not know that. I think the reason
people get it mixed up is that clairvoyance and precognition of listed as
synonyms. I think that’s were I got the
idea anyhow. It’s amazing how school
comes in handy for fanfiction. It seems to me that I heard somewhere (like
TV) that they weren’t they same, but I don’t remember an explanation. Thank you for pointing that out. I may be re-uploading chapters minus the
clairvoyants in the near future. And
don’t worry about the threats. I assume
they’re given out of love… they are aren’t they?

Sexxi
Twisted Angel – Brad the ‘ice-bitch.’ I may have to
borrow that insult, if I may.

Dora Tany - I’m such a bad author! I know, I’m sorry! Time what time. What made you think I pay attention to time. Don’t worry I
will always find my way back to this till it’s finished.

Ravenstar - Thank you for
choosing my story. I’m just sorry that
you got a slacker for an author. Just
bear with me.

shorti – Lots of reviews. J And right off the bat, you’re going to make me feel bad
for being such a crappy author “This is the best WK fanfiction…” Oh I loved ‘Nephente
at the gate’ Farf and Schuldig are another of my favorite
pairings. Which is why even in a BradxSchu, the Irishman still has to steal some
scenes. I hate giving spoilers, but I
don’t think I have it in me to do a love after he’s dead fic. I don’t think I could stop crying long enough
to right it. But then again *shifty
eyes*

blood-red – I
hate unfinished stories, so in my defense I have no intention of abandoning the
story. I’m just a slow, slacking, crappy
author. My tip is to forget about my
story for awhile, then have an epiphany in five months to check it, and low and
behold; I’ve updated.

Rain – Just look
around on the floor. I’m there crying
too. The more of these responses I
write, the more misty eyed I get. So
many great reviewers, and such a lump like me. Don’t worry the fic will go on!

VarenNeoRaven –
Thanks. I know my grammar sucks, but I
try to watch it. I’m glad you will read
anyway.

Ciar – Here it
is! Please keep reading, and I will try
to update sooner.

Ann – I live! Yes the story must continue!

All finished… so many
reviews. I might cry. After reading them all, and writing
responses, I feel all mushy inside. (Damn sap attack. Run!) I love all you guys! WHAAA! I’m such a horrible author. I don’t deserve any of you! This story, for all its faults and mine
*cough* grammar *cough* have been so well accepted. I will endeavor to be a better author for you
guys!!!

Oki, sappy
moment over. *Sniff* On to the fic…

~telepathy~ aka communicating

/thoughts/ aka Schuldig reading
someone’s mind

German Words:

Großmutter ist
geisteskrank.: Grandmother is insane.

Chapter Eight

            The
good thing about Sundays was that Takatori didn’t work. He spent the day at home, at his mountain
cabin, or spending time with his bastard child, ironically the only one he
really liked. All were activities that
didn’t require Schwarz, especially visiting the girl. The politician had plenty of security at his
residences, and Schwarz was mostly for intimidation rather than real
protection; although, they did come in handy for that as well. Of course Schwarz had another, under the
legal radar, purpose for assassinating competitors, spies, unlucky
investigative reporters, and any other troublemakers. The result of Takatori’s day of indulgence
was Schwarz’s own day off. There were
the occasional exceptions to this, but for the most part the assassins had
Sundays to themselves.

            Brad
Crawford, for all the workaholic he could be, made sure all reports and files
were done before hand, so that he could spend his scheduled day off in peace. Sunday was usually a quiet day. Nagi, after making breakfast, usually spent
the day surfing the web or watching T.V.
Farfarello, for his own protection, spent the day sedated. Schuldig usually slept in, and then dozed on
the couch. Through all this blessed
quiet, Brad would sit in his chair and read.
If the precog was in a really good mood, he might even humor Nagi and
watch a movie with the boy and Schuldig.
This particular Sunday, however, was different. Brad knew his vision of Schuldig using the
alarm clock meant trouble.

            “What
are you doing?”

            “Reading.”

            “Boring.”

            Schuldig
was thoroughly convinced that Brad Crawford was, quite possibly, the most
boring man on the face of the planet. So
far Schuldig had watched Brad finish breakfast, send Nagi to restrain
Farfarello, read the paper, and now read a book. The only acknowledgement of the telepath’s
presence had been the argument in the kitchen.
Schuldig shifted into a more comfortable sprawl across the couch.

            “Don’t
you know how it ends?” Schuldig said flicking his hand in a vague gesture
towards the book.

            “Are
you intent on annoying me all day? And
no Schuldig, I don’t know the ending. I
am capable of blocking such minor nuances.
Not that it matters, as the book is nonfiction.”

            “Why
read something that you already know the ending to?”

            “Schuldig,
do you mind?”

            “Mind
what?”

            “Alright
Schuldig,” Brad said calmly, putting his book down in defeat. “What do you want? Your car is intact, so you don’t need
mine. I know you are not out of money,
so what is it?”

            “What?! All I did was
ask a question.”

            “You
have been following me all day.”

            “What,
I can’t sit in the same room as you?”

            “Schuldig,”
Brad hissed out in effort not to shout.
The telepath was obviously trying to rile him, and Crawford would not
give him the satisfaction.

            “It’s
not my fault that you are insecure about your useless pastime.”

            “Don’t
you have a bar to go too? Isn’t it
German telepath happy hour?”

            “You
make me sound like an alcoholic!” Schuldig snapped.

            “I
call them as I see them,” Brad replied somberly.

            “I
do other stuff!” Schuldig said while turning to sit up straight. His back stiff, the telepath glared at the
offending precog. “I…ah.”

            “Sleep
does not count.”

            “I’m
an assassin; I kill people. See there,
I’m employed.” Schuldig crossed his arms
and huffed in triumph.

            “Schuldig…”
Brad sighed.

            “I
am not useless Brad.”

            “Did
I say that?”

            “You
were thinking it. I’m a telepath. I know how people think.”

            “That’s
not the point.”

            “Ah
ha, you do think I’m useless!”

            “Schuldig,”
the precog gave in and pinched the bridge of his nose.

            “And
you don’t trust me at all. I’m just a
useless untrustworthy lump who sleeps a lot.
I can’t even sit in the same room without suspicion,” Schuldig ranted
then more quietly, “Großmutter ist geisteskrank.”

            “What
does the old woman have to do with anything?” asked Brad in utter
confusion. Telepaths were known for
being erratic, but the situation was getting preposterous.

            “Nothing,”
Schuldig replied flatly.

            “What
is this about?”

            “It’s
about the fact that you don’t like me!”

            Schuldig
had turned his face away from the precog, so he didn’t see Brad move; however,
he was firmly aware of the back of a warm hand pressed to his forehead. Blue eyes rose to stare cross-eyed at the
invading hand. Brad removed his hand
only to place it on his own forehead, and then return it to its former position
on top the redhead. Brad, Schuldig
noted, had nice hands with long fingers.
His own long fingers were much to skinny and didn’t appear very
strong. Oh sure, the telepath could
swing a punch, but he was just as likely to break a finger along with his
opponents nose. Schuldig liked mental
debilitation, guns, and other long range attacks, but Brad liked a good fist
fight. The precog was an excellent
marksman, and enjoyed the power of pulling the trigger; however, nothing
thrilled the American more than feeling bones shatter under his knuckles. If Schuldig looked closely, he could make out
a jagged white line marring the skin on the knuckle of Brad’s index
finger. The other guy had not only lost
his tooth, but the sight in his left eye.
Brad liked a good fight. In the
flurry of movement, staying one step ahead of his opponent, took his
precognition to the limit.

            Schuldig’s
eyes followed the line of Brad’s arm up to his face. Brown eyes, the color of honey when the light
hit them, stared back at him passively.
Schuldig opened his mouth, hesitated, and in rare occurrence, said
nothing. The precog was attractive,
Schuldig would admit that; knowing him, it was the first thought he ever had
about the American. Crawford was also a self-absorbed bastard, but so was
Schuldig. Maybe more even. But when both of them stopped talking,
Schuldig could almost think… but he didn’t think about that because this was
Crawford. Except that Großmutter had
made him think about it; was making him think about it. He was following Brad around for the explicit
purpose of thinking about it.

            “What
are you doing,” Schuldig finally croaked.

            “You
don’t feel warm. Are you sure you are
feeling ok? No headaches?”

            “I’m
fine.”

            Schuldig
left Brad standing by the couch, hand still hovering in the air. The precog, even more confused by the sudden
silence, watched the redhead walk down the hall. Sighing Brad returned to his book and
chair. He sat staring at the couch for a
moment, pondering the bizarre course of the day. Finally he chalked everything up to
irrational telepaths, and focused on his book.
After all it was Sunday, and he read on Sundays. Maybe if he was feeling particularly nice, he
would humor Nagi and watch a movie.

End Chapter

I know its short, but the chapter
just wanted to end here. My muse
demanded coherency over length. According
to my tentative plan the next few chapters should get progressively longer. If I can stay out of my rut, and get some
work done, this story might actually get somewhere. LOL

As always reviews are welcomed and
appreciated. ^_^

Solaras
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Mind Games and Coffee