FicWad

Crawford Saw it before it happened, thanking his Gift for finally being of use to him. Lately, it had had a tendency to suddenly go on the fritz right before the bizarre happened. It was, he felt, a conspiracy.

But, thank whatever, it warned him this time, allowing him to set his coffee down carefully beforehand. He had lost more clean expensive shirts that way-

The American paused and went over the vision. Puzzled a bit. Decided that really, he just shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore and sat back to wait.

Nagi and Farfarello stopped their game of Pong. They, too, had learned and generally froze whenever Crawford set his coffee down in That Way.

"What is it this time?" Nagi sighed. "Is it the microwave? Because we just got that repaired and the neighbor is still complaining about her cat's new perm."

"We shoulda charged," Farfarello said with a mournful shake of his head.

Nagi gave him a look. "We're lucky she didn't press charges."

"The cat's no' harmed and looks pretty. FiFi go' the same treatment and turned out fine."

"FiFi," Crawford felt the need to interject, "is not technically alive."

Nagi looked smug.

Farfarello viciously started the game again without warning and gained a few more points.

"I don't suppose either of you know where the children are?" Crawford asked, annoyed that they hadn't asked about the vision again. "They've been quiet all afternoon."

"They're upstairs," Nagi replied and leaned his whole body to the right as he attempted to block the small pixilated ball. He still missed.

"With Schuldig, correct?"

The black haired man smirked as both his teammates froze and dropped their controls. "Why didn't you say something /earlier/," Nagi screeched and made to stand.

Farfarello was already at the hallway door and ready to run up the stairs when a bundle of something flew at him.

"Umph!"

"Eeee!"

thud

Nagi and Crawford stared. Three amber eyes stared back up at them, two in glee and one in horror.

"Cailin?" Crawford hazarded.

"Hi, Uncle Brad!" the bundle squeaked and kneeled. On her father's ribs, to be precise, but as there was no protest she didn't seem inclined to move. "Don't I look adorable? Uncle Schu says I do!"

They were silent.

"Well," Cailin continued, tugging on furry ears then twisting a furry tail around her hand, "Uncle Schu tried to make the puppy dress up but Meev ran away. I think he's hiding in your closet, Uncle Nagi. So then he said I should dress up instead."

Silence continued to surround them.

Then Farfarello broke it.

"My...my sweeting? A /furry/?!" he roared and struggled against invisible bonds, no doubt there to secure a certain German's safety.

Cailin giggled. "I'm a squirrel, Da."

"Cailin, why are you a squirrel?" Nagi asked patiently.

"Because Uncle Schu-"

"We know that part. But why?"

Furry boots were readjusted. When she opened her mouth to speak again, she was interrupted by a commotion from the stairs.

"You're stepping on my /pants/!"

"You mean your skirt?"

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt. Or girly earrings. Unlike a couple people I could mention."

"Oh, no, you just have a poor excuse for a ponytail. And a pink elastic."

"I told you we didn't have any other color!"

"Bitch bitch bitch."

"...I look good right?"

"Maybe."

"What the hell kind of an answer is that?"

"An indecisive one."

"Look, why don't you take that sword and..." Kirito trailed off when he noticed the rather crowded living room. "Um. Polish it?"

Brett snorted, peering over the other boy's shoulder. "Pervert."

Kirito turned slightly pink, harrumphed, and stalked into the room.

"Kirito...why are you dressed like a...samurai?" Nagi looked pained. "And how did you manage to get your hair into a ponytail?"

"I'd say he's more of a ronin," Crawford offered.

"Like Kenshin," said Cailin.

Farfarello looked thoughtful. "From Samurai X though. No' Rurouni Kenshin. What with the blue."

Kirito blinked. "Telekinesis. For the hair, I mean." He wished people would stop asking about that.

Nagi's pained look grew and Crawford offered him a "At least it's not my son" look.

Then he actually noticed his son.

"Hey, Dad." Brett smirked and wobbled into the room. He gave a lazy salute, pinwheeled his arms to regain balance, then completed the salute.

"Brett..." His son was wearing a pair of Cailin's earrings. And wobbling on a pair of geta, using a fake sword for balance.

And what the hell was on his ankles?

"Jin," Farfarello said suddenly. "And Mugen. And..." he looked at Cailin, who smiled, "....squirrel."

"Ah, that show." Nagi's pained look was traded in for a more resigned one. "I understand. Kind of."

Crawford scowled. "What are you-"

Brett grinned. "Wait till you see my Schuldig."

On cue (as he had been standing patiently on the stairs), the older telepath sauntered into the room on a pair of platforms. Or sauntered as well as he could in a kimono. He stopped and posed, sending a wink in Crawford's direction.

"Mugen. Jin. And Schu." Nagi snorted. "How clever."

"He likes cross-dressing too much," Farfarello stated.

"You should try it some day, Farfie. A maid costume would suit you," Schuldig drawled. He flicked back a piece of hair that had escaped from the chopsticks that held the rest of his red mane hostage. "Or maybe a schoolgirl uniform."

Brett attempted to simultaneously make his hearing and imagination not work. Kirito merely choked.

"Da used to play princess with me!" Cailin exclaimed and bounded over to Schuldig. "Can we go now, please? Please?"

"Go where?" Crawford asked, trying to be the voice of reason.

Schuldig smirked. "A con, of course."

"Why are you going?"

"Well," and the German looked entirely too pleased with himself, "a certain group of florists should show up eventually. As a certain group heading west. Not that I had anything to do with that, of course."

"He's going kappa hunting," Brett explained and wobbled towards the door after Kirito, stepping on the back of the other boy's costume. Cailin scampered after them.

Schuldig fell under the stare of his teammates.

"Kappa?"

"Or the Samurai/Florist that smells like cigarettes. Later!" and a blur of orange-red dashed past them.

"I should probably be concerned," Crawford stated.

Farfarello patted him on the shoulder. "Wanna play pong?"