Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ No Touchy! ❯ Emergency Ammunition ( Chapter 12 )

 

Thought he was the cleverest of them all, did he? The genius of torture? The master of sexual malice? Crawford snorted softly to himself, amber eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Schuldig had obviously forgotten who he was dealing with and Crawford would be happy to remind him of just who the master of planning and execution was.

 

A positively evil smile developed as he headed to the walk in closet in his bedroom. He ran his fingertips along the textured surface of the wall until he found what he was looking for. He had originally wondered why a closet wall had the deeply grooved patterns it did until he had accidentally found out why one day. He heard a soft click and a small section of the wall popped open as he hit the triggering mechanism. He reached down and pulled out the large box marked “Emergency Ammunition”. He tucked the box under his arm and walked into the bedroom. He put the box on the bed and pulled the lid off, grinning evilly at the contents. He'd show the annoying telepath who the master really was.

 

Half an hour later he hardly recognized the man looking back at him in the mirror. The shirt was a little tighter on him than when he'd first bought it in his early twenties but that was a good thing. It now stretched almost obscenely tight over broad shoulders and a well muscled chest. He sat down on the bed to pull on the boots and gave himself one last check in the mirror before starting downstairs.

 

Phase one of the plan went far better than even he could have anticipated. His first indication was Nagi choking on his noodles when he came into the kitchen. Farf pounded him on the back for a moment before looking up and pausing in mid-swing. His mouth dropped open and stayed that way.

 

Nagi took a deep breath and for some strange reason began to stammer, “Not gay, not gay, soooo not gay,” while his face turned progressively redder.

 

Farf seemed to mentally shake himself before asking, “Uh, Crawford, why are you dressed like that?”

 

“Information needs to be gathered from one of the clubs tonight,” Crawford said with a shrug, walking over to the coffee pot.

 

“Isn't that usually Schuldig's job?” Farf asked, trying to avoid staring openly at their leader, whom he was pretty sure had just outstripped him in the crazies department.

 

“Did I hear someone mention the marvelous me?” Schuldig said, sticking his head in the kitchen doorway. “Damn, who's the hottie . . . SCHEISSE!”

 

“What's wrong with you now, Schuldig?” Crawford asked over his shoulder before taking a drink of coffee.

 

For a moment it seemed to Schuldig as though his brain had completely shut down. Something in him simply refused to process that the gorgeous long legs and hot ass encased in butter soft leather really belonged to Brad Crawford. He had to adjust himself to compensate for the immediate erection he had. It got worse when Crawford turned around and Schuldig got the full effect of not only the pants but the red, lace up, PVC shirt that showed off every lean muscle of his chest, arms and stomach. His hair was artfully mussed and the ever present glasses were missing, making him look both younger and more approachable than he ever had. The whole ensemble made Schuldig want to flop down on the table and ask the other man to fuck him hard. Of course, that would have probably resulted in the burning of another table.

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing in that?” Schuldig blurted out once he'd regained his scattered wits.

 

“Since you always manage to get distracted when trying to gather information from the club, I'm going instead this time,” Crawford said calmly. “You are not going tonight. You are going to take Takatori's incoming instructions when he calls.” He didn't bother to mention that Takatori wouldn't be calling until early the next morning. He finished the cup of coffee and turned to rinse the mug out in the sink and put it into the dishwasher.

 

Schuldig barely held back a whimper as Crawford leaned down to put the mug in the dishwasher. The leather stretched taut across his ass and made the muscles of his thighs clearly visible under the material. Crawford straightened up and went to grab his keys.

 

“Nagi, see if there are any blueprints of the warehouse. I really would like to have an idea as to what we may be getting into. Farf, medication at eleven.”

 

“Where are you planning on hiding the gun in that outfit? And when the hell did you get a tattoo?” Schuldig asked.

 

“I won't need one tonight and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself without one at any rate. As to the second question, that is none of your business,” he said. “Make sure you're here to take that phone call. You are <i>not</i> to follow me, it would look too suspicious.”

 

As Crawford walked out to the garage he let a tiny, self satisfied smile play over his mouth. Schuldig would follow him of course, simply because he had told him not to.

 

“Phase one: Complete.”