Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ New Rules, New Ruler ❯ Chapter 17

Part Seventeen

* A/N: lots of swearing and use of the f-word, in case you're sensitive about that *

Nagi was lying on his stomach, playing with the cat, in the main room when Schuldig and Crawford returned. Schuldig felt an odd pang of guilt as he watched the boy. He could send an innocent woman to her death, but he couldn't bear to part pet and boy. Well, why bother? Why not keep the animal?

Brad sneezed, and Schuldig was abruptly reminded why they couldn't keep the feline. Damn allergies.

Nagi glanced up briefly, then went back to tugging some string around for the cat to play with. Farfarello was oddly tolerant of the mammal, citing that as it had no soul nothing he could do to it would hurt God. He was sitting on the couch, watching boy and beast tease each other.

"You know who's cat that is?" Schuldig asked in his usual blunt manner. "Weiss', that's who. We've got the kitten in the house."

"We're not actually going to take it back, are we?" Nagi looked horrified.

"We certainly are!" Brad snapped, rubbing his eyes with a handkerchief. He'd had enough of sneezing fits and runny eyes.

"But…but…"

"Final word." Brad marched into his office to finish the paperwork on the mission, desperate to leave the now fur-lined room.

"Maybe we could get one of those sphinx cats? They don't shed," Farfarello suggested.

"They don't have any fur to shed," Schuldig pointed out. "If they weren't so butt-ugly that would an almost good idea. Maybe a snake or something?"

"I'm not living with a reptile," Nagi frowned.

"Hey, isn't it past your bed time, chibi?" Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "We'll take the cat back tomorrow. It's a Sunday, so the shop will be nice and full of fan girls. Weiss won't be able to do a thing."

"I don't want to take the cat back. I want to keep it. We found it, it came here of its own free will-"

"Actually, it was in the car, so it didn't get much choice. Now bed!"

"Can I put Farfarello to bed first?" Nagi stubbornly refused to give up the fight.

"Does Farfarello want to go to bed?" Schuldig snapped back.

"-"

"Of course he does! I always put him to bed, I always give him his medication, I always calm him down, I-"

"Enough!" Schuldig roared. "Go. To. Bed. You too, Farfarello."

"-"

"He needs to be hung up!"

"I think I can handle that," Schuldig said icily. "Kid, if you know what's good for you, you'll scarper. I have not had a good night. Fucking Balinese."

"Really? Does Brad know?" Nagi's eyes widened in a mock innocence that parodied his too-knowing tone.

"-"

"Shut the fuck up, both of you! Get out of my fucking sight, now!"

"I damn well won't! You arsehole, you think you rule this place! I hate you! You don't control me, you can't tell me what to do and if you do you can say goodbye to your skeleton!"

"Are you threatening me?"

"And if I am? I warn you, one step closer and you'll have double the bones you used to."

"Oh really? You couldn't. Not while I've got my mind on you. Go to bed, you little butt fucking whore."

"Go to bed yourself, it's time for you to start work."

"That's it!"

"Yes, I rather think it is." Crawford's icy tone cut through the argument. "Nagi, bed. Schuldig, you're sleeping on the couch tonight, I think. I expected better from both of you." Neither could meet his gaze. The power of his glare still held sway over minds that had resisted the harshest brainwashing SS had had to offer. Nagi slunk away, his hostility evident in his every movement. Suddenly that cat found itself flying through the air to disappear through Nagi's door just before he slammed it.

"Brad?"

"What."

"I'm not really sleeping on the couch, am I? I mean, Nagi started it. He should know better than to talk back to me."

"You should know better than to try and force him to do something he doesn't want to. And yes. I'm not sleeping with someone who uses that sort of language around minors."

"Yeah right. Nagi's got a fuller vocabulary than me! He's sixteen, for fuck's sake. What did I do?"

Brad retained his silence as he swept regally into the master bedroom. Schuldig sat heavily on the couch, glowering and Farfarello. "What you looking at?" he growled.

Brad climbed into the large, lonely bed. He fingers curled around the soft sheets, drawing them up over his head. Sometimes he just couldn't cope with Schuldig. He could control Schuldig, but he couldn't make him want to stop. The friction between them had been worse before they started sleeping together, but it still remained.

Schuldig was volatile and excitable, quick to laugh and quicker to anger, sadistic and depraved, with a desperate need to be recognised. Schuldig needed to be acknowledged, he needed to be depended on and, at the same time, to have someone to depend on. A wry smile, tinged with bitter sadness, tugged at Brad's mouth. Schuldig needed someone to lay the blame on and take the credit from.

Brad, on the other hand, needed control. He hated dependency in all its forms. He static emotionally, except when roused to great anger, and had little patience for those who let their emotions overwhelm them at every interval. That was why he got on so well with Nagi. He had his own knack for inflicting pain, with carefully chosen words and measured tones, that lasted long after whatever scars Schuldig or Farfarello inflicted faded. He was pragmatic, practical, patient, a planner and plotter. In Schuldig's words, he was `an anal-retentive control freak'. Probably not too far off the mark, if Brad was being honest with himself.

So how was it supposed to work? There were times when he couldn't stand Schuldig's presence. There were times when Schuldig hated to be around him. It was a relationship sustained on lust, as far as Brad could see. They were two people who had only managed to tolerate each other so far due to stressful circumstances beyond their control. Really, one of them had to go before the team was torn apart.

It didn't occur to Brad that one of them leaving would tear the team apart.

* * *

Schuldig glowered at the cat. It stared impassively back. If it was possible, he was in a worse mood than he had been in last night. Emotions were running high in the Schwarz household, and he was getting the lion's share. Nagi was furious at being treated like a child, looked down on, patronised. Brad was in a depressive mood, thinking about something Schuldig couldn't reach, but didn't bode well. Farfarello was upset at being ignored and was worried about the fight last night, reacting to the stress the only way he knew how, taking chunks out of his arms and screaming a lot. Occasionally Schuldig would hear a muffled thump as he ran into a wall and starching as he tried to pull the door off it's hinges.

The phone rang. Schuldig answered it before Brad could, something unusual enough to show how badly Brad was upset.

"Ja?"

"Schuldig?"

"Ja?"

"It is Tanya."

"Ja?"

"How did it go?"

"You've got the girl, haven't you? How do you think it verdammt well went?"

"Hmm."

"What?" Schuldig was rapidly losing patience with the enigmatic Russian.

"Weiss?"

"Ja, they were there. So?"

"Someone leaked."

"Yeah well, a lot seems to get past you and your pet telempath. Like that pyrokinetic."

"We have offered apologies for that clerical error."

"Scheisse, you're kidding me, Ja?" As Schuldig's temper frayed he slipped back into his native tongue more and more frequently. "`Clerical error'? Someone buggered up big time. That would have cost lives before. Is SS going soft?"

"I would like to speak with Bradley."

"Sorry, `Buttercup' ain't available just now. Can I take a message?" Acid sarcasm dripped off his tongue, leaving sizzling holes in the carpet of the consciousness.

"Yes. Tell him we will meet soon. We have to discuss Weiss."

"Danke," Schuldig said incredulously. How thick was this woman? "Anything else, weibsstuck?" he snapped.

"Yes, I think so. Take the kitten back, the four of you."

"Danke, ja, mutterfukker <sp? I don't actually do German, and my sister's dictionary is sorely lacking in swear words>. Done now?"

"Yes. Thank you for your time. We will see you at the flower shop at nine this evening."

"Wha-" Schuldig found himself screaming at a dial tone. He stared at the receiver, clutched in a white-knuckled hand, and hurled it across the room. It hit the master bedroom door, leaving a faint but obvious dent. Schuldig released a torrent of swearwords to turn the air blue, cursing and screaming at the top of his voice, in every language he could think of. Eventually he noticed Brad, staring at him.

"Must you always make such a fuss?" he raised an eyebrow, just visible over the rim of his glasses. They were extremely shiny, another sign something was bothering him. It was a sort of tic, polishing his glasses, that he used when annoyed, nervous or just bored.

"Do you know what that weibsstuck has cornered us into doing? Going to Weiss. Talking to Weiss. She's going to fucking team us up with fucking Wiess!"

"I am well aware of the situation. If it is so objectionable to you, I suggest you leave."

It wasn't until Schuldig was standing on the pavement outside, having stormed out of the apartment slamming the door, that what Brad meant sunk in. `I suggest you leave'… and don't come back. After a moment's consideration, Schuldig shoved his hands in his pockets and began the make his way down the road. Far above him, Brad watched through a half open window.