Schuldig amuses himself. In every sense of the word. Mild Crawford/Schuldig.
"Amusing myself, kid."
"Could you not do that with your hands?"
The telepath smirked. "You told me not to bother you, and everyone else is booooring," he whined.
"You choose now to listen to me?!" Nagi glanced around the packed train compartment, quite a few of the passengers shifting glances from the corner of their eyes, all directed at the small Japanese boy and his tall gaijin companion. Of course. You couldn't go anywhere without the telepath attracting attention, intentional or not.
And who was he kidding? With Schuldig it was always intentional.
"I'm trying to mend my ways," the redhead told him in his most solemn tone. It might have been almost believable if the smirk wasn't still in place.
"For being such a manipulative bastard, you really don't lie that well," Nagi muttered, glancing around warily. He didn't like it when people stared at him too long. It made him twitchy. At least Schuldig used his telepathy to keep an open space around the pair.
"Meh. The truth can be so much more fun." Schuldig stopped making shadow puppets with a sigh and rocked back on the heels of his feet. And rocked forward. And rocked back. It was like watching Farfarello only with him you had the comfort of knowing the straight jacket was within reach. "Why the fuck did Brad make us take the train, anyways? It's so boring and...and...demeaning."
"You stole that word from someone." Nagi shifted, shoving one of his hands into the pocket of his pants. "And you should know why. You're his fuckbuddy here, not me."
Schuldig gasped and put a hand to his heart. "Nagi, where did you learn such language?"
This time it was the Japanese boy's turn to smirk. Schuldig thought he did a pretty good job of it. "Well you see, my mother is really kinda trashy. Badly dyed hair and what not. I probably picked it up from her."
"That stings. Really. And this is my natural color, thanks so much." He tossed his hair to prove his point. The train suddenly jerked as he did so, making the two assassins grab on to a metal pole to regain balance.
Nagi saw the look on the telepath's face and froze. "Schu. No." The look turned even more evil. "Don't."
"I'm trashy, remember?"
Nagi groaned and covered his face.
The telekinetic stomped into the living room, slightly red-faced and looking very annoyed. It looked as if he wanted to break something. Crawford glanced up from his newspaper. "Yes?" he questioned calmly.
"You could have warned me!" was his reply before Nagi stomped off to his own room, closing it with more force than necessary.
The precog glanced over to where Schuldig was leaning on the doorframe, cigarette dangling from his lips, with a satisfied look on his face. "I'm good."
"Next time you complain about Nagi's lack of a social life, I'm bringing this up."
Schuldig snickered. "Not my fault he didn't enjoy the pole dance." The telepath shifted, his position changing from lazy to seductive within a second. "I know you did," he purred.
"Of course. It was the work of a pro."
The redhead pouted. "Brad. Don't make me kick your ass." The pout turned to a razor-sharp smile.
Crawford neatly folded up the newspaper and set it on the coffee table. He already knew what it said anyway. And there were better ways to take up time.
"No. We're not putting a pole in our bedroom."