FicWad

Written in November for a "shopping" challenge.

**


Every year, around the same time, Crawford has the foresight to forbid his teammates from turning on the radio whenever they are in the car. CDs were fine, if music was needed at all, even those screeching, wailing sounds that Schuldig claims is "good music." Even Farfarello's questionable taste for the Lord of the Dance soundtrack wasn't that bad.

Anything was fine. So long as it wasn't one of those songs.

Christmas carols were something that Crawford avoided at all costs, with as much grace and determination as is possible.

So when he arrived at the house Schwarz was currently living in, had been living in you're the past year, to find "Jingle Bell Rock" blasting on the stereo and lights thrown all over the floor, the oracle had to wonder how, exactly, had he missed this particular vision.

Nagi stood solemnly in the middle of the hall, facing the living room with a look of pure distress playing over his features. "I tried to stop them," he stated, more to cover his own hide than anything else.

"How bad is it, Nagi?"

Schuldig chose to stick his head out of the living room, and the oracle absently noticed a piece of holly in his hair. "Just in time Brad."

"Schuldig..."

"We decided to celebrate Christmas this year. And all its materialistic commercialism."

"We?" Crawford peered into the living room and was only slightly unnerved by the image of Farfarello wrapped in blinking, multi-colored lights.

The beheaded angel that was perched on top of his head was comforting though.

The American felt arms wrap around his waist and a pointed chin on his shoulder. "Cute, isn't he? Makes me wanna just eat him up."

Crawford saw the corner of a grin and shook his head. "How did you convince him to go along with this?"

"I didn't. It was his idea." The grin widened.

Crawford felt this warranted an Out of Crawford moment. "You're shittin me."

"I shit you not."

He looked towards the ceiling for a moment in exasperation then turned away. "Do whatever you want. Just leave me out of the whole affair."

"Nu-uh. We have to go shopping. Presents are the whole point of it."

Crawford froze. The tower of blinking lights cackled. Nagi wished he had a camera to catch their leader's expression.

"Schuldig, no."

Schuldig stared at him.

"No."

Stare.

"I mean it. I don't /shop/."

A more pointed stare.

Nagi noted that while Crawford had the better argument, Schuldig was obviously winning.

And so, two days later, four of the most feared assassins on five continents and several small islands found themselves stuck in traffic with Schuldig's hand on a steady trip upwards from Crawford's knee, Nagi drawing pictures on the fogged windows, and Crawford wishing Farfarello would stop chewing on tinsel. They had already gone through two packages of it.

After Schuldig's talent ensured them a decent parking spot, Crawford spent the next three hours of his life being dragged from store to miserable store by a smirking Schuldig, who was apparently taking great delight in explaining to children that Santa doesn't exist. Nagi had taken Farfarello along with him, presumably doing shopping of their own and Crawford had a feeling that Farfarello was scaring children more than the German could ever hope to.

He also had a feeling that his bank account would be weeping by the time they were through, as Schuldig's eyes lit up at the sight of CDs and DVDs

"Cheer up, O Fearless Leader," Schuldig said as he eyed a Buffy boxset. "There's a porn shop a block away with all sorts of toys. I'll buy you something there later."

The older man smirked, adjusting his glasses so Christmas lights reflected off of them, and planned exactly what he would pick out and exactly how it would be used, though he didn't miss the redhead's muttered "And they say I'm the pervert of the group."

"Do you have a problem?"

"Fuck no."

The day was looking up.

That night, Crawford sat in his favorite chair with a book open on his lap, feeling slightly put out over the fact that Schuldig had claimed the couch and TV as his own and wasn't inclined to move. Every now and then Farfarello would scurry to change DVDs before the duo went back to Buffy watching. It looked like they would be there for a while, especially since Schuldig kept drooling every time some blonde guy with a fake accent was on screen.

It didn't bother him. The fact that neither of them were in their bed enjoying his presents did though.

And that Nagi kept snarling over the fact that his Star Wars action figures kept ending up in the nativity, which made Schuldig snicker around his candy cane in response. Obi-wan as Joseph, Crawford could understand, but he failed to see the connection between Chewbacca and Jesus.

/Cause you lack imagination/, Schuldig sent his way.

Crawford looked back at his book thoughtfully and wondered if this was that so-called 'karma.'

"Schuldig, you do not touch my Boba Fett action figure!"

"Sorry kid, but he's the best candidate for wise man."

"R2-D2 would have been better," Farfarello offered.

Crawford sighed.