The mission was over and the target was dead, filleted, and toasted to a savory crisp. If Schwarz ever needed to quite the assassin business they could always work as chefs. The image of Crawford in one of those floppy white hats made Schuldig laugh and the telepath sent the image to his oh-so-esteemed leader. He was graced with a twitching eyebrow as the oracle walked into his room.
"It's a good look for you," Schuldig grinned. It was late and they had all been up for nearly twenty-six hours, making everything seem hilarious. Yet another reminder of why Takatori sucked. At least they had the next day off.
He watched as Nagi trudged into his own room and slammed the door with amusement before starting to follow Crawford.
Take care of Farfarello was promptly sent his way.
The telepath grimaced.
Schuldig slipped into Crawford's room, cursing the nation of Ireland and anything it ever spawned. Collapsing face-first onto the bed, he didn't even bother to undress. For once.
"Did you secure him?"
Schuldig groaned. "Ja."
"Did you sedate him?"
"Then go to sleep."
"Like I've been trying to do?"
There was no answer but the telepath swore he heard a smirk.
"If Farfarello doesn't stop hitting the wall I'll kill him."
"I thought you sedated him." There was a glare with that, Schuldig just knew it.
"Curse ye, Father of Lies!" /Bang Bang BANG thud/.
Schuldig and Crawford both sighed in relief.
Schuldig stared at the coffee machine, willing it to work faster. His fingers tapped the kitchen counter in a tuneless beat, other hand wrapped around a mug that said, in bright yellow letters, "Bottom's Up!" He had given to it Brad last year but the message never seemed to get across.
Some people didn't appreciate the art of being subtle.
But right now he just wanted his caffeine fix.
"It's broken," a raspy voice said from behind.
Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "Since when?"
Farfarello appeared to ponder this. "Since I broke it this morning," he finally replied.
"Farfie..." the telepath started through clenched teeth, slowly turning around. But the Irishman was already gone.
And they said he had no self-preservation.
Crawford stood between the hallway and the living room, arms crossed and frowning. As a precog he was used to getting that feeling of dÃ©jÃ vu every day, every hour even. It came with the visions after all. But he had never once had a vision of this particular scenario yet was sure it happened over a dozen times before.
Schuldig was sprawled out on the couch, managing to take up far too much room for someone his size, a look of something like horrified bemusement on his face. On the floor next to Farfarello sat, eye-patch facing towards Crawford and absently chewing on one of his knives.
"Didn't the exact same thing happen the other day?" Crawford asked. Schuldig tossed him an annoyed glance.
"Brad, it's a soap opera. Of course it's happened before. Now go away." The redhead made a shoo-ing gesture with his hand.
Crawford shook his head and headed back to the kitchen, hearing Farfarello mutter "She doesn't realize he's cheating on her."
"No shit. She's too busy with her own affair," was a nasal reply.
It disturbed him for some reason.
The front door slammed open, then closed again. Something that sounded like shoes hit the floor noisily as footsteps were already stomping past the living room.
"I hate the world," Nagi seethed.
Schuldig glanced up from his magazine. "How was your day, sweetie?" he drawled around his cigarette. And was promptly given the telekinetic equivalent of 'Fuck you.'
"The boy has no manners," Farfarello said, looking down to where Schuldig was now rather ungracefully sprawled between the couch and coffee table.
"I blame Crawford."
Dinner was Thai food from a take-out restaurant nearby.
It was Schuldig's night to cook afterall.
Crawford looked at the cheap cardboard boxes with thanks, remembering the one time that the German had tried to actually cook something. There were still scorch marks on the ceiling from it that refused to come out. It still amazed him that Farfarello actually managed to eat that...well, whatever it was.
"-and then he wanted to fail me because I wouldn't join in, despite the fact that I told the idiot beforehand that I wouldn't-" Nagi was ranting about something as he speared some vegetables rather viciously with his chopsticks. Crawford had tuned him out a while ago. Schuldig was watching the Japanese boy with a blank look on his face, nodding his head and making noncommittal sounds at the appropriate time. Luckily Nagi was too wired up to notice. "And /then/-"
Schuldig suddenly blinked, dropping his own chopsticks and doubling over in laughter. Crawford and Nagi both stopped and stared at him for a moment, watching as he pointed in the opposite direction.
Farfarello had somehow stuck his chopsticks into his mouth and now resembled some sort of albino walrus, cackling and horrible.
Sometimes Crawford wondered how they could possibly be one of the most feared assassin groups in the world.
But for now he had to save his telepath from choking on a carrot.
Crawford was pounced on, landing backwards on the bed with an armful of hyper-German telepath. For a moment, his vision was filled with red. Then the red was gone and he was staring up at Schuldig as the younger man straddled his hips.
"You saved me," Schuldig purred, one hand working on Crawford's shirt.
The oracle smirked. "Schu, you weren't even choking."
"But you gave me the Hymlick maneuver."
"No, you decided that you were choking and attacked my face from over the table," Crawford corrected, half-annoyed and half-amused.
"Details, details," the redhead waved it off breezily. "Does that mean that I can't return the favor?"
"I'm fairly sure I've saved your life multiple times in the past. Actually, I'm positive that I have."
Schuldig shrugged. "Works for me." Crawford grabbed his hair, pulling him down for a kiss before flipping them over so that Schuldig was below him. "You really never got that mug I gave you, huh?"
Crawford smirked. "I did. I simply decided it was referring to you." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll get the handcuffs."
"You're door is still open, you perverts!" Nagi yelled from his room across the hall.
Then close it. Unless you're enjoying the free porn, Schuldig drawled into his mind.
Nagi huffed and closed both their doors with his powers.
Thank you, chibiiiiiaaaah the nasally voice was cut off by a moan.
Sighing, the telekinetic turned his headphones up. Just a typical day.
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