Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ You're Joking, Right? ❯ Chapter 16

"Your boy's more fucked up than usual," Schuldig said, barely restraining his excitement. "What'd you do to him this time?"

 

"I spoke to him sternly."

 

"Hhmmm. You did more than that."

 

"Why? What are you picking up?"

 

"Oh, the usual -- I love him, I hate him, now I'll never go to prom! Just, you know, amped up about a thousand degrees.

 

"He isn't happy with me."

 

"He hasn't been happy with you for a long time. This is a lot more than not being happy with you."

 

"I didn't realize you cared."

 

"The more fucked up they are, the more I like them. Red is one of my favorite people."

 

Crawford finally looked up from his newspaper. "You're not reading anything specific?"

 

"No. It's like the static just got a lot louder and -- more static-y."

 

Crawford folded the paper very carefully and put it on his desk. "Thank you, Schuldig. That's very helpful."

 

"Good thing for you I appreciate a dry sense of humor. Is it Farfarello, then? They seem to be fighting again."

 

"I think Ran is sufficiently upset with me to explain any disruption you may be feeling in the force."

 

"What did you do?"

 

"Curiosity killed more than the cat, Schuldig."

 

"Oh, very noir, Brad. Are you sure you know what you're doing? He's torqued well beyond maximum safety. You keep saying we need to keep him functional -- well, I don't see how anybody could function for long like that. Not even a pig-headed sociopath like Red."

 

"Your point is taken and your input is duly noted. I believe he will work through this -- increased static -- and ultimately be stronger for it." Crawford's phone rang, and he stared at it for a moment as though someone had taken a dump in the middle of his desk. He pressed two fingers into his temples and waited several rings to answer.

 

"No. You can reassure Mr. Kudoh that there is no problem with your short-pants-wearing compatriot. Nothing has changed. Yet." Brad paused, closing his eyes. "Something has just come to my attention that I'd like to review with you. If you can disengage yourself from your new obsession, I'd appreciate your presence here this afternoon." After a pause, Crawford disconnected. The gesture was so excessively controlled that it only served to highlight his annoyance.

 

Schuldig smiled; nobody got to Crawford like Red. "Speak of the devil," he crooned.

 

"The devil is among us," Crawford observed dryly.

 

"Flattery? Are you about to ask me a favor?"

 

"Certainly not. I'm well aware of how much your favors cost." Crawford removed his glasses and blew off an imaginary speck of dust. "I need to speak to Mr. Fujimiya this afternoon. I trust you can handle the meeting with the mad scientist Takatori without me?"

 

"Sure. I'll take Nagi to protect me." Schuldig winked.

 

"Afraid he's going to turn you into a toad?"

 

Schuldig's smile turned into a grin. "I love it when you joke around, Brad. Makes you seem almost human."

 

"Don't get used to it. Take Nagi, but leave Farfarello here."

 

"You need someone to protect you, too?"

 

Crawford frowned. "I have my reasons, Schuldig."

 

"You always do." Sometimes he was genuinely fond of Brad. "I'll get to work, then. Good luck with Red."

 

Crawford's expression turned decidedly sour. Very interesting -- was he that comfortable, or that bothered? It bore watching. Whistling, Schulding sauntered out of the office and toward Nagi's room.

 

**********

 

Aya pulled into a parking space and sat in the car until the song he was listening to was over. "I put my faith in God and my trust in you -- now, there's nothing more fucked up I could do." He liked that line. He'd never had any faith in God, of course, but he wasn't as literal as they all thought he was. He could handle artistic license. Reluctantly, he switched off the music and climbed out of his car, dragging his feet every step of the way. He felt like a sulky teenager -- which he wasn't too far from being. He kept forgetting, somehow. Aya's footsteps echoed in the concrete garage, and he enjoyed the noise he made with his heavy boots.

 

Riding up in the elevator, Aya mused about what kind of security this building might have. There had to be some -- a lot, actually -- but nothing was visible. He picked idly at the scab on his lower lip as he waited. The trip was smooth and silent and seemed to take forever.

 

When the doors finally opened, Aya trudged down the long, equally silent hallway. Did Crawford rent the whole floor? That seemed likely, but he refused to take enough interest in Schwartz's business to ask about it.

 

Aya tried the door and found it open, so he walked right in. More of Brad's ever-so subtle power games. Fucking annoying. Aya walked into Crawford's office without knocking and briefly savored the way the man's eye twitched ever so slightly. "More good news?" Aya asked, a little surprised at how flat his voice sounded. Well, his heart really wasn't in it today. He sat on the sofa halfway across the room from Crawford's desk and just waited.

 

"What, no witty banter? No provocative behavior?"

 

Aya just stared straight ahead. "No." Crawford had managed to take all the fun out of it. Then he remembered something. "What the hell is going on with Omi?"

 

"We already discussed this."

 

"We did not. You know I couldn't talk in front of Yoji."

 

"Then you shouldn't have contacted me while he was there."

 

"it called for a gesture -- you know all about that. Come on, Brad. This situation is jagged enough as it is. I can't have you keeping those kinds of secrets from me. What the hell is the deal with Omi?"

 

"What did Mr. Kudoh tell you?"

 

"Ken warned him to watch out for Omi, and he asked me about it. That's all I got."

 

Crawford sighed. "I've told you many times, Ran, that I can't share every detail with you. Kritiker wants Mr. Tsukiyono's identity kept secret for now, but if Mr. Hidaka suspects, they must not be doing a very good job on their end." He sniffed disdainfully. "Mr. Tsukiyono is heir to Kritiker, believe it or not. And he'll be running the organization much sooner than they imagine." He paused and gazed placidly at Aya. "This is strictly confidential, of course."

 

Aya sighed loudly. "I cannot fucking believe you didn't tell me that. If I weren't going to be dead in about twenty-four hours, I'd be so pissed at you." He sighed again, less aggressively. "Does 'There isn't a problem' mean Omi isn't actually spooked, or that he isn't going to act on it? Or maybe it means Omi's going to kill us, but not until after this mission, so it isn't a problem for you? Since you've already written me off anyway, and I know you don't give a damn about Yoji."

 

The look of intense aggravation on Crawford's face was its own reward. "It means Mr. Tsukiyono isn't ready to act on his suspicions at this time. If you follow orders, you will have nothing to fear from the littlest Takatori."

 

"Yoji, too?"

 

"Yes, and your little dog Toto, too."

 

"I'll hold you to that."

 

"I hardly see how, but as I've said, it isn't a problem. If you follow orders. I'll repeat myself again, on the off chance it will get through to you: If you follow orders. If you go throwing yourself in front of bullets to save your equally debauched litter mate, I can't say what the consequences might be."

 

"Fuck you."

 

"Likewise."

 

Aya chewed on his lip. He couldn't account for his irrational determination to save Yoji's life. He hadn't made any conscious decision; it was like the conviction had always been there, and he'd finally noticed. Well, that was a romantic little flight of fancy, wasn't it? "Faggot," he muttered.

 

"Talking to yourself?"

 

"That's what it always seems like, when I'm talking to you."

 

Crawford said, "We're obviously ready for another topic. I've foreseen an opportunity for you to move on the Nakayama project. Can you be ready tomorrow afternoon?"

 

Aya paused, feeling llike the rug had been jerked out from under him yet again. "I thought I had a little longer than that."

 

"I'd rather not wait. This is an excellent set-up, and I don't want to waste it."

 

Of course. What were a few more days of Aya's life, compared with taking advantage of an excellent set-up? "We'll be ready."

 

"Very good. I don't want anything on paper -- can you memorize everything and talk Mr. Kudoh through it?" Crawford pushed a file folder toward the edge of his desk, expecting Aya to get up and pick it up. "You've seen most of this before; I've added some updated information on top."

 

"I need a printout of the files you want."

 

"I said..."

 

"I don't care. I can't memorize the entire list of files. If that's not good enough, get someone better. Or isn't there anyone else as expendable as I am?"

 

"Could we try to approach the situation in a rational manner, Ran? Copy them out on plain paper; the list won't be as traceable that way."

 

"When it's found on my cold, dead body, you mean."

 

"If that's how the scenario plays out, yes."

 

"I can't help noticing that even though you said you didn't want me to die, you don't exactly care enough to take me off this mission."

 

Crawford was silent for some time. "No," he finally said.

 

Well, it had been fucking stupid to think he was going to get a different answer now. Aya got up, grabbed the file, and sat cross-legged, with his back to the side of the sofa. After reading the first page about twenty times, he finally forced himself to pay attention, and the soothing ritual of planning for a mission took over. He particularly enjoyed this part. It felt like a game.

 

Engrossed in memorizing timetables and working out strategies, Aya still noticed when Crawford brought over a notebook and pen. After several moments' hesitation, Crawford sat on the sofa, almost as if he wanted to get closer but was afraid. There were, of course, several other, equally plausible reasons for his behavior that were all less flattering. Concentration shot again, Aya looked up. His jaw set in annoyance when he noticed Crawford had taken off his glasses and was watching him closely.

 

"What?" Aya heard it as sounding pissy and querulous. He was gnashing-his-teeth furious at Crawford, but the man's proximity still made it hard to breathe.

 

Crawford cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. "If you're ready, I'll go over the opportunity that will present itself tomorrow."

 

Aya nodded vaguely. He could smell a tantalizing hint of Crawford's cologne, so light it was almost more a dream than anything tangible. Hermes, the one in the orange box. Most people never noticed it because you had to be very close... Aya closed his eyes tight against the memories and actually jumped when he felt Crawford's hand on his knee.

 

"You can do this, Ran. You can make it through this mission."

 

"Have you seen that?"

 

"No. I've seen that Nakayama will be taken out, but nothing more."

 

"So there's no reason to assume I can change my own... outcome."

 

"Not necessarily," Crawford admitted. "But I've given you significant information about how to avoid it, and the future changes all the time. You know that."

 

Aya shrugged. "What I know is that you're willing to throw me away to take out someone who isn't even a key player."

 

Crawford had the grace to look pained, at least for a few seconds. "This has a direct bearing on our ultimate success. It will also buy your sister more time." He held up a hand before Aya could protest. "Don't," he commanded sharply. "I can't tell you everything. But I tell you the truth -- that's what I promised, and I haven't gone back on it. That's more than anyone else gets from me. Now get your shit together, listen to what I'm telling you, and figure out how to keep yourself from getting killed."

 

Aya rolled his eyes. "Sure, coach."

 

"Well, I suppose sarcasm is an improvement on abject self-pity. Now try to pay attention. Mr. Nakayama is having some computer equipment delivered to his home late tomorrow afternoon. He hasn't gone through Esszet or Kritiker for this purchase, so you won't have to deal with trained agents on that end." He gave Aya the name of the store and the delivery information. "How you take it from there is at your discretion, but this will get you into the office itself with no suspicions raised. You see why it's too good a chance to pass up."

 

Aya nodded. It certainly made the job easier, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be pleased about it. Crawford obviously didn't care anyway, so Aya just picked up the notebook and started copying the list of about fifty files. "This is a lot of work on the computer. It's not our strong suit, either one of us. Can you narrow it down?"

 

"I'm afraid not."

 

"The longer this part takes, the more dangerous it is. We don't have the manpower to kill everyone in the house and search at our leisure."

 

"I'm aware of that. I need all the files."

 

Aya sighed and finished copying the list. "OK. I'll tell Yoji to leave the disk at my apartment if I don't make it. You'll probably have to deal with him, though."

 

"I'm hoping you'll spare me the bother. Mr. Kudoh fancies himself as something of a hero."

 

"Yeah, that's my main concern."

 

"I did promise you a reward. I'll find a way to give it to you."

 

Aya closed his eyes against a wave of crippling wrath. "You're amazing. You won't life a finger to save my life, but you expect me to throw over a teammate for a chance to sleep with you?"

 

"I've done as much as I can do, and considerably more than you're giving me credit for. I don't believe you really see it that way, either, but it's all your choice. I've never forced you to do anything."

 

Aya stared, then shook his head. "Unreal." He stood up and walked across the room, cramming the piece of paper with the file names into his pocked. "I'm done. I'm leaving."

 

"Farfarello asked if you would see him before you go."

 

Aya slammed the door on his way out. He had no intention of visiting Farfarello -- he needed to get home and start going over this job with Yoji. And besides, he was confused enough as it was. But Farfarello was waiting for him near the end of the hall.

 

"Nice ambush. Now get out of my way -- I'm going home."

 

"I want to talk to you. It won't take long if you're a good boy and don't fight me." Farfarello smiled. "Although I wouldn't take it amiss, if you were up for being a bad boy." He reached out for Aya's arm.

 

Aya wheeled around and stalked into Farfarello's room. "What do you want?"

 

Farfarello closed the door and slipped behind Aya, not quite close enough to touch. "I want to help you."

 

Aya snorted. "You mean you want to fuck."

 

"Do the two things have to be mutually exclusive?"

 

He'd always found Farfarello soothing. When had this gotten complicated, too? Farfarello leaned against his back and breathed into his ear. "Crawford is who he is. It doesn't have anything to do with you, what Crawford is..." Farfarello's hand slipped over Aya's hip and rested low on his stomach, under his shirt. One finger dipped under the waist of his jeans. "You ask the wrong questions. You wonder how much he loves you, why he treats you the way he does -- those are things you'd ask about a man, not a monster. " His thumb traced circles around Aya's navel. "Better just to move and breathe and feel." His other hand cupped Aya through his jeans, and Aya's body had already reacted. He didn't have the strength or the will to fight it. He leaned back against Farfarello and closed his eyes.

 

Farfarello's lips brushed against his ear. "Trust is a tough thing to come by these days." He squeezed Aya's dick and pressed his own erection against Aya's ass.

 

"You're quoting Kurt Russell."

 

"I'm a man of many influences. Now shut up and let me do this."

 

"OK. Just... I have a job tomorrow. Don't..."

 

"I'll be careful." He pushed Aya onto the bed and crouched over him. "Your face is banged up," Farfarello breathed.

 

"I got in a fight."

 

"Nobody does it better," Farfarello said, leaning down to kiss an abrasion on Aya's cheek. He licked it, and it hurt; Aya winced, feeling the beginning of a slow burn.

 

"Your eye is as red as your hair. The bruise sets it off." Farfarello ran a gentle, reverent finger over Aya's eyelid. "You're a beautiful creature. You glow like a sharp blade."

 

That should be comforting -- positive reinforcement and all. And it was, in a way. Aya was feeling something for Farfarello, and he was actually glad for the opportunity to say goodbye. He just wished he felt... more. Farfarello deserved more.

 

"You're upset with me." Farfarello was carefully removing Aya's clothes.

 

"I'm... I don't know anymore." He really didn't. But suddenly, there were words, and they poured out. "He shouldn't pimp me out on jobs that are going to get emotional. I don't know what to do. I feel things, and I don't understand any of them. I don't know what's going on. I could handle it, when it was just the work, and you." Aya closed his eyes. "He shouldn't have done this to me."

 

"I suggested that, but you know how he is. Never listens to anybody, always has another plan to fix the last one." Farfarello paused, frowning. "He pays well, though." Farfarello licked Aya's face, digging his tongue into the pulpy part of his lip. "I'm going to fuck you this time, love. Don't fight me. I know what to do with you -- just let me. We can fight after, if you want to."

 

Aya almost giggled. Farfarello was managing him. Farfarello made a strange father figure, but he sure as hell needed one, and Crawford wasn't cutting it. "OK."

 

"That's it," Farfarello murmured, slipping down to suck Aya's half-hard cock into his mouth. Yoji's assertions to the contrary, nobody gave better head than Farfarello. He had zero interest in personal comfort and no gag reflex whatsoever, to say nothing of a single-minded will to get any job done, no matter the consequences. Those qualities translated well to oral sex, and Aya had learned a lot from Farfarello in their time together. He closed his eyes, threw his head back, and let lust take him over.

 

It took longer than usual, but the result was inevitable. He came hard. He may have felt a little manipulated, possibly violated -- or maybe just tired, who the hell knew? But he did feel calmer, more so when Farfarello lay next to him and held him, solid and warm, just breathing against the back of his neck.

 

Suddenly, and very much belatedly, Aya remembered that Farfarello hadn't gotten off. Maybe he wasn't interested, since it wouldn't be anything more than fucking. "Do you want to..."

 

"I'm fine. I had a wank just before you got here, truth be told."

 

"Oh. I just thought we should..." Aya pulled himself together. "Never mind. That's fine. That was... Never mind. Just -- thank you."

 

Farfarello say up, quick as a cat. He was peering at Aya, his eyes narrowed. "Are you saying goodbye?"

 

Deeply shaken, Aya stammered a bit. "No, I'm just... I just..."

 

"You may as well give it up as a poor effort. I've always told you to do as you want, haven't I?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Ssshhhh, little pookie. Don't get all worked up again. Life goes on, and then it stops. I move with it while I can." He smiled. "Clinging is the source of pain, Red. The bad kind, I mean."

 

"It's not the only one."

 

Farfarello sighed. "Kill the Buddha and all that," he muttered. "I'll try again. You are free to make your choices, with me at least. Go in peace."

 

What the fuck? "Do you want me to leave you? Is that what all this bullshit about freedom is? If I'm too much trouble, you should just say so, instead of laying this philosophical crap on me. I can't believe this."

 

Farfarello hugged him and held on tight. "For fuck's sake. Just -- sit. Shut up. Sit. Do you understand me?"

 

Aya felt the bright flame of indignation die out abruptly. He decided to just do as he was told. He didn't know what else to do anyway.

 

Farfarello held him until his heart stopped pounding and his mind stopped racing, and he finally found himself in a far corner of his head, waiting. Like a stray sock under the bed. The thought made him snort quietly. To himself.

 

"You're better now?"

 

Aya nodded. "Thank you," he said, pulling back and meeting Farfarello's eye. "I was... Yeah. Well, you were there."

 

"That I was. Do you want to have a conversation? Or fuck? Because I'm up to the task now. Something about your occasional supernovas fills my heads with filth."

 

Aya hesitated but eventually nodded. He didn't actually want to fuck, which was unsettling. Fucking was how he'd always dealt with problems, and apparently that wasn't working anymore, either. "Yeah," he said, making his voice low and husky. "Do me."

 

"Jesus wept," Farfarello muttered. He was undressed in a flash, graceful and efficient as always. Aya lay there and let Farfarello remove his clothes, too. He wasn't remotely hard, but that had never bothered Farfarello before, and it didn't seem to now. Aya usually got into the spirit of things before it was all over. Farfarello flipped him over onto his stomach.

 

"Hurt me, OK? Just don't leave any marks. I need Kudoh for something tomorrow and I don't want to make him jealous."

 

"I'll see what I can do," Farfarello said. He sounded dangerous. Finally, Aya felt a small spark of anticipation.