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Proving Ground	By : draelynn Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 1193 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz belongs to Koyasu body and soul. No money made. Because it's fan fiction. And apparently it's not obvious to the legalese infected.

Chapter List
- 1-Proving Ground
- 1
It seemed that most everything they had taught him was a conveniently packaged lie. Not that Schuldig really expected the truth from his instructors. But it was proving to be idiotically simple to navigate through the minds he encountered outside the walls. Hell, ‘escaping’ had been so easy that he thought, just maybe, they had let him go. There could be any number of reasons they might do such a thing but he truly could care less. He was out and he knew it was only a matter of time before a retrieval team caught up to him and hauled him back. Just because they might have let him out didn’t mean they were letting him go. But there was, hopefully, an entire night between then and now and he was determined to enjoy every second of it.

It was only a forty five minute ride to Hamburg and the lurid charms of the Reeperbahn literally screamed his name from the distance. The blinding glare of raw, naked debauchery coiled around his mind and pulled him in like nothing ever had. The distant neon glow haloed thousands of voices, all promising carnal pleasure in nearly every imaginable form. It all would have been overwhelming (or simply easy and attractive to lose himself in) if it weren’t for the single minded goal that drove him there in the first place.

The nice family he pressed into taxi service dropped him off in its vicinity before driving off wondering how they had gotten so lost on their journey home. In this sea of candy coated minds it was surprisingly easy to zero in on the one he was looking for. Despite the jostling of passers by, it was almost simple to skate over hundreds of minds, the distant look in his eyes dismissed as the all too common awe struck stare of a tourist. The mind he was searching for stood out like a black hole, obvious to him alone not for what was there but what was not. An obvious void. The blankness that was Crawford was as distinctive to him as any other mind. As was the heavily shielded mind beside him though she was nowhere near as good at it as he was.

He slowly picked his way through the throngs on the street, nearly giddy with eyes going wide as he passed working girls in their crimson lit windows displaying their talents. He paused, then paused again, and again - the other men on the street providing a graphic feast of details for the use of those talents. As instantly distracting as it was he shook off their thoughts as he forced himself to keep moving, dragging his eyes away to focus further down the bustling street. They were only a few blocks away.

At least a few of the things they taught him in school came in handy. A few slips of careful fingers won him all the cash he’d need for the night and an ID that could never look like him. He stopped at a small doorway as people pushed past him on all sides. The music pounding from within definitely wasn’t something he’d associate with Crawford but he was certain this was the place. The man at the door gave him a stern scowl. With a devilish grin, the shaggy redheaded fourteen year old suddenly grew a foot and half taller, ten years older and he knew the bouncer’s name, since he’d visited here every week for the past year. In fact, they were friends. With a hearty greeting and a slap on the shoulder, the big man gave him a nod and opened the door.

The club was small even by his less than practiced standards but full of young, eager, drunk bodies all looking to find a way around, on and in one another. The cave-like atmosphere pulsed to life, a blinding kaleidoscope of color and throbbing sound - an alien world away from the nearly sterile environment he was accustomed to. He was dizzy with excitement and anticipation, unsure how much of it was actually his but not caring - it immediately felt like home. But everything about this was as far from Crawford as he could imagine. He could only picture Crawford hunched over in a dark corner booth scowling at this waste of time. He still couldn’t even guess at why Crawford had brought that conniving little empath to a place like this. He walked up to the bar, a silly grin plastered to his face as he absorbed it all then ordered a beer so effectively the bartender never bothered with his ID. He sipped at it tentatively sneering at the bitter tang chasing down his throat. But he wasn’t going to let something as trivial as taste derail his first buzz. He forced a huge swig down with a sneer then turned his eyes out into the club.

“Hey cutie… awwww, look at you… did you steal your big brother’s ID?” The skinny blonde slurred close to his ear as she draped herself over his shoulders, reaching for his beer.

He could taste it slithering through her mind. Not just alcohol, something more intriguing, eating away at her inhibitions. It would be so easy to just…

But her friend snatched her away before he even completed the thought. His thoughts chased after her through the crowd, not wanting to let the taste of her high escape. The sight in front of him brought him back though. Framed by the gap in the crowd left by the two women was the dance floor. A blinding, pulsing mass of young lithe bodies all moving in unison, the living breathing embodiment of lust and sweat and sex, hateful passion and beloved despair. Maybe the club was a bad idea after all because Schuldig never wanted to leave. It was a promise that his mind was dangerously close to keeping here and now. Only one thing snapped him back to himself and grounded him solidly in his own head. There, nearly in the center of that writhing mass of inhumanity was Crawford.

Schuldig stared, dumbfounded, as clubgoers slid around him. Without his glasses, Schuldig almost didn’t recognize him but the black hole never lies. He had never seen the man in anything but a uniform or sweats – except for that one time in the shower room which, admittedly, was probably a part of the reason he was here in the first place. He never had a doubt Crawford could move, after all, he was positively lethal in martial training. But they were never required to move their hips like that in Tae Kwon Do.

Beside the redhead, a girl smiled and swayed sipping at her drink, swirling her tongue around the straw trying her best to catch his attention. Schuldig rolled his eyes. Amateurs. Professional seductors wore hip hugging black leather and clingy stretch shirts. They grabbed at their dance partner’s waists and pulled them in to grind against his leg as he tangled his fingers in their hair. And tugged their heads back. And sucked at their throats…

Schuldig swallowed hard, freshly summoned teenage hormones kicking immediately into gear. He was vaguely aware that his shell shocked stare was probably accompanied by proverbial drooling but he couldn’t tear himself away. At least he’d have a second fantasy to add to that shower encounter.

This was Crawford’s last night. He and his bitch of a dance partner were assigned to a field team. Together. In the morning they’d both be gone. Together. It didn’t matter that Crawford had promised to come back. He couldn’t even promise when, he had only told him to be patient. That empath bitch had been hanging on him for years and from the look on her face she was obviously convinced that she had finally caught her prize. She writhed against him with the slightest provocation, even slid his hands to fondle her comically huge breasts because she knew how much he enjoyed them. And she turned and wiggled her little round ass against his crotch, letting her micro mini skirt ride up in invitation – right here, right now, on the dance floor.

She may be a bitch but she was craftier, more calculating, than this. Crawford would never have taken any interest in her at all if she was as shallow and vapid as that slut draping herself all over him like a cat in heat.

Schuldig let his thoughts slither through the crowd, summoning every ounce of will power he possessed to stay on target, slipping through the mire of minds until he insinuated himself right up against her mental shields. And there was his explanation, plain as day. The crafty little empath was not only struggling as hard as he was, but starting to fail. The strong emotions from the throngs around her were taking a heavy toll. Her mental shields were patchy at best, her own physical and mental attraction to Crawford weakening her resolve even further. The harder she struggled, the more difficult he made it for her to concentrate. Under normal circumstances, she would already have detected the telepath’s intrusion into her thoughts but as distracted as she was, she might as well have sent him a written invitation.

Schuldig’s eyes fluttered, a fox sly grin creasing his face as the empath reached back to pull Crawford down for a kiss, all passion and lust as she gripped hard at the back of his neck. Crawford indulged her, then encouraged her even further as his hands wandered her curves, tempting and teasing but never claiming. She had already been teetering on the edge, desperately clinging to her tenuous control. It took so little to push her over it.

“Fuck me, Brad. Oh god, I want you to fuck me.” She hissed, grinding hard against his cock through unforgiving leather.

Brad kissed her hard then, his hands rounding over her hips, gripping hard at her little round ass, pulling her against him as his hips promised everything she wanted. He spun her, taking her by the hand, dragging her from the dance floor, heading for the darkened booths at the back of the club.

Schuldig faded back into the crowd, secluding himself in a dark corner, back against the wall, invisible despite the bodies around him. He wouldn’t allow anything to deprive him of this.

Once in that dark booth, she was all over him, her hands wandering every inch of his body, kissing him hard and deep, grabbing his hands, inviting him to do whatever he wanted in return. All too soon she was stroking him through the leather, nearly growling in frustration at the barrier it provided.

“Now, Brad. Please. I want you inside me.” She struggled with the buttons, cursing under her breath at the tight confines of the booth and the leather keeping her from her goal.

Schuldig’s hands ran down his chest to stroke himself once through his slacks. At the jolt of sensation, he bit his lip so hard it bled.

Brad grabbed her hands, then reached up to cup her face, forcing her to look at him. She met his eyes for only a moment before sinking her tongue down his throat once again. Brad obliged her though, unbuttoning the leather, pulling his erection free. Her hand immediately slipped around that hardness stroking him long, moaning into his mouth at the feel of him in her hand.

She moved to straddle him, pushing her skirt up over her hips, ripping her thin panties clean off , tossing them aside. She positioned herself over his cock but Brad stopped her.

Again he cupped her face and forced her to look at him. He looked into, then through her brown eyes.

“Sylvia?”

She returned his gaze, eyes glassy and distant but most definitely focused on him and him alone.

“No.”

Schuldig stared blankly against his wall, panting, waiting for Brad’s response.

Brad cupped both hands around the back of her head, the moment of indecision written on his face. But it dissolved just as fast as he pulled her into to a fierce kiss, one that was returned with an uncharacteristic passion and urgency.

“Fuck me, Brad. Please.” She begged him, her voice even more ragged and desperate especially since it was barely her own.

“So impatient…” Brad chuckled against her neck as he pushed hard at her hips to sink into her.

Schuldig banged his head back against the wall hard, hands gripping nothing as he nearly choked on his own groans.

She had failed. It was finally clear exactly what this little excursion was all about. Schuldig had no clue if this test was for Crawford’s amusement or on the order of his new team leader. Whatever the reason, Sylvia had failed long before Schuldig even caught sight of her on the dance floor. All she would remember was that she had won her prize. Schuldig wished he could be there the day she realized that this was the moment she threw it all away. There was now no doubt in his mind that Crawford was his… he would just need to be patient.

Perhaps, by then, he would also realize that he had passed his own test.
- 1
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Proving Ground