[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

DISCLAIMER: Kyoko Tsuchiya and Project Weiß hold the copyright over all names, likeness and rights of Weiß kreuz. All these characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.

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Aya leaned against one of the wooden pillars that supported the bedroom loft as he watched Birman setting out the Chinese takeout. He could feel a smile quirk on his lips to hear her humming contentedly in this domestic exercise, reminding him of how like his sister the woman could be when she wasn't on 'duty'. Contrary to her current image though, he knew Birman was a tough and dangerous woman, something he would never say about his sister. It remained one of his strange dichotic impressions of her, this secretary of Persia.

Crawford had, fortunately, already left before Birman returned, Aya wasn't sure how he'd have explained his visit to her. Ironically, the leader of Schwartz had provided him an excuse to push the driving of the van onto the unsuspecting woman. The solution had only struck him when Birman, on her return, asked him why he was looking so thoughtful as he twirled a stem of purple hyacinths between his fingers. Aya had immediately pondered aloud to her, over creating an Ikebana arrangement with the purple hyacinth as a primary flower, which he had never attempted before. The statement had intrigued Birman as well, so she did not feel it strange to be handed the keys to the van while Aya retreated to the back of the trailer to look over the materials he had.

In truth, he did not spare much thought to the Ikebana arrangement. Instead, he spent the time staring at the stem of purple blossoms Crawford had offered to him-- and which he accepted. /Why?/ That question ran though his mind again. /What was Crawford's purpose in offering a token of regret? Did he really mean it?/ And was he so impressed by the remorse he saw in the other's eyes to accept the flower?

Aya was still been pondering these questions well after Birman parked the trailer van in the warehouse. She had been amused to find him sprawled on the trailer's living room couch still silently contemplating the hyacinth with nothing else accomplished. He good-naturedly endured her gentle teasing of being stumped by the challenge. Idly watching her now as she lay out the utensils and plates, he wondered whether he would be comfortable telling her about what had transpired the previous night.

"Birman--"

"Yes?"

Aya almost hissed at himself. His sigh had slipped out before he could retract it. Seeing her look expectantly at him, he decided to ask about a piece of a past that surfaced in his mind after the incident with Schuldich. "Just curious, but did Kritiker ever finish building that trauma centre Manx talked about when she was still Erika?"

"It's up. Why? Did Schuldich--?" Her eyes softened as she rose to her feet and placed a hand on his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Aya blinked at her and wondered if she saw the brief flicker of fear in his eyes at her perceptiveness. "He didn't seize my mind again, Birman. It-- just reminded me of that time. I-- was just asking."

"Kritiker does care about our agents, Aya." The dark-haired woman regarded him carefully. "We have counsellors to handle everything from job stress, which in our organisation sometimes involves survivor guilt; to torture and rape trauma. We can hardly leave our agents to deal with it alone, you know. Especially not the men when we're talking about rape."

"Rape?" He almost squeaked, his mouth feeling suddenly dry.

"A woman can at least approach organisations for Women's Services, and there are help lines at rape crisis centres that they can call. But few of these places are equipped to handle a male caller. Male rape is probably more prevalent in society than we care to acknowledge." Birman huffed in annoyance. "Just as a woman might find it difficult to admit or report a rape, it must be even more intimidating for a man because of societal perceptions."

"Oh."

"We have more male agents than we do female... Lets just say our internal statistics are more skewed towards assisting the men because of that."

"Oh." Aya really didn't know what else to say about her statement.

"Aya, did something happen to-- the team?" Birman asked him carefully. She gave him that opening. Not pushing or demanding. Letting him decide if he felt comfortable enough to confide in her.

"Birman--" He fought the tears his eyes was threatening to shed at her gentle understanding, reminding him again of why he had ultimately decided to follow her into the Koneko no Sumu Ie in Tokyo so many years ago. Tired of being alone again since his term with the Crashers unit was over, he had not accepted her offer then with revenge in mind, but for the team she proposed that he join. (Though he did have second thoughts about it, when Ken punched him across the room on seeing him in the shop.) She was offering him a chance to open up, but he-- didn't feel ready to talk about it with anyone just yet. At least, not before he had a chance to talk to Youji.

"Thank you, but there are things that-- need to be discussed amongst us first."

"Please understand, Aya, no one should feel shame in it." She told him softly and gave him a gentle squeeze on his arm before turning her attention back to laying out the table.

He looked away from her to twirl the stem of purple hyacinths between his fingers, comforted by the assurance of her support and understanding. However, the long cluster of flowers he held quickly brought him back to his earlier train of thought and questions flooded his mind again. Did the Schwartz leader offer it in assurance? Why did he care? With his precognitive abilities, he must have foreseen what Schuldich would do and allowed it to happen. So why try and offer an apology-- after the fact?

/Because there is nothing else to be done about it but regret and offer a promise that he would not let it happen again?/ Aya's fingers tightened on the stem of the flower, bruising it slightly with his indelicate grip.

He thought again of the Ikebana arrangement the American had bought from him. Crawford seemed deliberate in his choice of the primary flower. And if he was certain who it was intended for... what did it tell him about Crawford's sincerity?

---

Crawford entered the apartment that was Schwartz's current abode to hear cursing coming from the kitchen.

"Ooow! Nahgi, yew don' 'ave tah be so rough."

"Well, unless you want it to heal crooked, you'll stop getting in my way and let me finish." The boy smirked at him heartlessly.

The American managed to stifle his laugh before Schuldich could notice his presence. He was glad that Nagi put aside his disdain enough to save the man's life, but apparently the boy chose not to interfere *before* the German had received some damage. Crawford kept his mental shields tight as he regarded them. No one could fault Nagi's attentiveness in treating the injury, but he was not being particularly sympathetic towards Schuldich and it showed in his rather clumsy efforts in resetting his broken nose.

"Oooooww! Nahgi!" Schuldich wailed again, then noticing Crawford standing at the kitchen door, tried to garner some help from their leader. "Cwofowd, ged him tah stob f$%kin' aroun'."

"I *am* trying to help," Nagi protested innocently. "If he'd only stop fidgeting--"

"Do it properly, Nagi." Crawford dropped a wink at him that Schuldich couldn't see as he strode in to drop the arrangement Fujimiya had made for him in the German's lap.

"Whad's dis for?" Schuldich eyed the triangular looking arrangement of yellow carnations, gypsophia, and pothos suspiciously. He pulled at the dry brown leaves of the pothos that appeared to artfully dance around the blossoms. "Yew god cheaded, dese are supposed tah be fresh. Nod halv dead."

"Actually, it's exactly how I wanted it. Just something I thought I'd pick up for you to go with this." He poked Schuldich's nose deliberately, eliciting another cry of pain from the harried man.

"Ooowww!" Schuldich's hands flew over his much-abused nose and turned away from them. His curses muffled.

Nagi looked up at Crawford with a question in his eyes as they waited for the German to stop cursing. He shook his head gently and placed a hand on Nagi's shoulder, giving the boy a gentle squeeze. "Why don't you run off and take Toto to a movie? I'll take care of him."

"It's-- very nicely done, but-- Yellow carnations?" Nagi arched an eyebrow at him.

Crawford shrugged. "Wanted Peonies as well, but the florist argued against adding them. He said that the colours he had available clashed with the yellow."

"This, from someone who wears an ugly ora--"

"He has a better eye for flowers." Crawford cut him off meaningfully with another squeeze to his shoulder as he guided Nagi towards the kitchen door. "He is a professional and it shows that took some convincing on my part for him to agree to my request for the leaves."

Nagi surreptitiously glanced back at the still cursing German before he looked up at Crawford. "I didn't know you were familiar with that text."

"You forgot who bought you the book to share with Toto. Now shoo!" Crawford pushed the boy out the door and watched him hurry off with a light step. /One of these days, you will need to open up and talk about it, Nagi. Fujimiya has Weiß. I hope you'll eventually understand that you can depend on me./

---

FYI Flower meanings that I've found:
Purple Hyacinth = Sorrow
Yellow Carnation = Disdain
Peony = Anger
Dead leaves = Sadness, sorrow

Before any one asks, 'Yes' I do have a sequel to 'Mind Games' on the drafting table. <sigh> We have yet to see Schuldich's point of view to understand what motivated him. Weiß has to adjust and learn not to be over protective of Ran. And Ran needs his confrontation with Schuldich. But please don't hold your breath waiting for it.

1) I'm still not sure that I have enough story elements to spin a good yarn; And
2) I have to be fair and turn my attention towards my other fandoms for a while. (If possible, I seem to be obsessing over Weiß kreuz right now. ^_^;;;)