FicWad

The Schwarz house was nearly silent. Only the clacking of computer keys and the dull hum of electricity, brought on by the obscene amount of lights that Schuldig and Farfarello had put up, interrupted the otherwise peaceful scene. There was a small, thin tree with a headless angel perched on top set into one corner. A makeshift nativity scene was set up next to it, complete with G.I. Joes and Nagi's Star Wars action figures for Farfarello's amusement. There were even a Santa and an Elf doll, which always managed to somehow end up in lewd positions.

But it was nearly silent.

"What are you doing?" Crawford was leaning against the doorway of the living room, arms crossed and face blank. This was his normal expression for dealing with Schuldig, especially when he honestly had no idea what the telepath was doing. It was safer than looking amused or annoyed. Schuldig was like a dog sometimes, picking up emotions and using them to his advantage.

"Ogling."

The oracle raised an eyebrow, shooing away the thought of purchasing a leash. He turned to Nagi, who just shrugged without even pausing in his typing. Getting no help from that corner of the room, he turned his attention back to the figure hunched over their coffee table. Schuldig was willingly being /quiet/.

It was unnerving.

"Ogling?" An affirmative noise. "Ogling what? And since when do you use the word ogling?"

"A present. And since Farfarello told me to stop ogling it," Schuldig replied simply and Crawford caught a brief glimpse of a smirk from beneath red-orange hair. "Apparently it was unnerving him."

The oracle twitched slightly. It had to be sign that he had to get out more if his thoughts were in sync with the resident psycho's. Mentally shaking his head, Crawford took the two strides needed to place himself in front of the German. Looked down. And blinked. Twice.

"A drawing."

"Mmhmm."

"Of you..."

"Ja."

"...and Balinese."

"Oh yeah."

Crawford just stared at it. Admittingly, it was a nice drawing. But it was wrong. Balinese looked far too comfortable sleeping next to his telepath and Schuldig was spooning the Weiss kitten. Naked. /Spooning/.

Very wrong.

"Brad, stop glaring at my present. If it spontaneously combusts, you're buying me a new one."

"If it spontaneously combusts, Crawford will have to pyrokinesis to his list of talents," Nagi muttered. He had aborted his work online in favor of watching his teammates. It was always a good source of entertainment and the Japanese boy wondered why they even bothered paying for cable anymore.

"You actually paid for that?" Crawford asked with a frown, torn between annoyance and that exasperated bemused feeling he normally associated with the redhead.

"I was feeling the holiday spirit," Schuldig leaned back on the couch, flicking a piece of hair over his shoulder and looking rather smug. "And it came out pretty good, ne? Each stroke of the pencil like a line of poetry."

Nagi snorted. "You have no holiday spirit. Or any concept of poetry."

"Sure I do," Schuldig sniffed and managed to make sitting up straight look like a dramatic flourish. He cleared his throat and looked at them both. "Twas the night before Christmas,
according to our clock,
And not a creature was stirring,
Not even Brad's-"

"/Schuldig/. "

The telepath sat back, examining his nails and smirking his patented Schuldig smirk. Crawford looked sort of pained, like his face was trying to decide whether to scowl or laugh.

Nagi snorted again, shaking his head but with an amused look on his face. "Schu, that wasn't poetry. That was a dirty rhyme."

"Yeah well, so's your mom."

Nagi didn't even dignify that with a response. Crawford had settled for simply glaring. The telepath raised an eyebrow. "The Death Glare doesn't really work when you have blinking multi-colored lights reflecting off your glasses."

"Schuldig."

"Right, right. I'll just take my new present into the bedroom and ogle it there." The German grabbed his picture and the box next to it and headed for his room. "And maybe I'll play with my other new toys too."

Crawford suddenly looked more interested. "Toys?"

Schuldig whistled of jovial tune as he walked down the hall.

"What kind of toys?"

Nagi rolled his eyes. He already knew more about his teammate's sex lives than he wanted to. He was most probably scarred for life and could no longer look at cherries, guns, bananas, uniforms, or red frosting without flinching.

Crawford tried to appeal to the telepath's new sense of festiveness. "Are they..." he actually winced. "Naughty or nice?"

Nagi choked.

"For that horrible attempt at foreplay, Crawford, you're not touching me ever again." They could both hear the laugh in Schuldig's voice before the sound of a door closing broke it off.

There was silence.

Crawford eventually cleared his throat. "Are you almost done with those plans, Nagi? They should have been fairly easy."

"So's your mom." The telekinetic muttered before freezing, looking surprised and horrified.

"Nagi?"

"Yes?"

"We need to get out more."

Nagi just nodded.