(no subject)
Eh, don't mind me, just posting some fic for two_point! I went and tried to work on the Schwarz fic I had mentioned, but then got totally sidetracked on something completely different! Hope you enjoy it!
Title Obsession
Characters Schuldig, Crawford, and mention of Tot (yes Tot!)
Rating Just a friendly PG for now. This may evolve into something bigger, not sure if I want to get myself into it, though.
Summary An obsession borne out of boredom, Schuldig contemplates the complex mind of Tot, much to the displeasure of Crawford.
How she captivated him, with her soft voice (too soft, too childish), her sugared thoughts (too sweet, too innocent), and the pressure he felt lying just underneath the surface. Her mind was like an underwater volcano, prepared to burst. He was sure that were he in her head when it split apart, he would be sucked into the maelstrom, swept along with the surge of memories and repressed feelings. It would be death by drowning, but at least it would be an accomplishment.
“I've told you to stop thinking about her.”
Schuldig frowned.
“Do you ignore my request out of spite?”
“Boredom,” Schuldig answered, before mechanically inserting his index finger into his mouth and chewing on the nail.
“Stop biting your fingernails, Schuldig. It's childish and shows a lack of self control.”
His eyes shifting to glare at Crawford, Schuldig bit back the retort that was on his lips, if you'd let me pick up smoking again, you wouldn't have to worry about my nails. But he already knew the answer to that. Lack of self control.
“Why do you care about my nails anyway?” He didn't really care about the question - he wasn't even going to listen to the answer. It was just a means of distracting himself.
Crawford laid down his newspaper and tilted his head ever so slightly, so he could see his partner without too much strain. “Why are you obsessing over her?”
He hadn't been expecting that. He stared at Crawford for a moment, not answering him right away. Eventually he looked at the wall and leaned back in his chair. “I told you, boredom.” He folded his arms over his chest, and pushed his chair back onto the two rear legs, balancing on them. He knew it bothered the American. “She's interesting.”
“She's not to be tampered with, I've already told you.” Crawford spoke in his dictatorial tone, the one he used because he knew it annoyed the German. There was control in annoyance, and he would not allow Schuldig to gain any sort of upper hand.
“Who says I want to tamper with her?” Of course he wanted to tamper with her, what self-respecting telepath wouldn't? She'd obviously been tampered with already, by someone of great skill, to repress a lifetime worth of memories. Who wouldn't dream of cracking into that?
Crawford sat back in his chair and picked up his newspaper, resuming his reading. Minutes passed before he answered Schuldig.
“The future.”
Schuldig's chair crashed back down on all fours as he turned his head to stare at Crawford. Before he could ask, the precognitive had already answered him.
“You succeed, but it results in failure for the rest of us. Therefore, I will not allow you to continue your obsession. I do hope you understand my decision.”
And that was all there was to be said on the matter.
At least for the time being. Schuldig always found a way to wriggle out of the iron fist of oppression.
Title Obsession
Characters Schuldig, Crawford, and mention of Tot (yes Tot!)
Rating Just a friendly PG for now. This may evolve into something bigger, not sure if I want to get myself into it, though.
Summary An obsession borne out of boredom, Schuldig contemplates the complex mind of Tot, much to the displeasure of Crawford.
How she captivated him, with her soft voice (too soft, too childish), her sugared thoughts (too sweet, too innocent), and the pressure he felt lying just underneath the surface. Her mind was like an underwater volcano, prepared to burst. He was sure that were he in her head when it split apart, he would be sucked into the maelstrom, swept along with the surge of memories and repressed feelings. It would be death by drowning, but at least it would be an accomplishment.
“I've told you to stop thinking about her.”
Schuldig frowned.
“Do you ignore my request out of spite?”
“Boredom,” Schuldig answered, before mechanically inserting his index finger into his mouth and chewing on the nail.
“Stop biting your fingernails, Schuldig. It's childish and shows a lack of self control.”
His eyes shifting to glare at Crawford, Schuldig bit back the retort that was on his lips, if you'd let me pick up smoking again, you wouldn't have to worry about my nails. But he already knew the answer to that. Lack of self control.
“Why do you care about my nails anyway?” He didn't really care about the question - he wasn't even going to listen to the answer. It was just a means of distracting himself.
Crawford laid down his newspaper and tilted his head ever so slightly, so he could see his partner without too much strain. “Why are you obsessing over her?”
He hadn't been expecting that. He stared at Crawford for a moment, not answering him right away. Eventually he looked at the wall and leaned back in his chair. “I told you, boredom.” He folded his arms over his chest, and pushed his chair back onto the two rear legs, balancing on them. He knew it bothered the American. “She's interesting.”
“She's not to be tampered with, I've already told you.” Crawford spoke in his dictatorial tone, the one he used because he knew it annoyed the German. There was control in annoyance, and he would not allow Schuldig to gain any sort of upper hand.
“Who says I want to tamper with her?” Of course he wanted to tamper with her, what self-respecting telepath wouldn't? She'd obviously been tampered with already, by someone of great skill, to repress a lifetime worth of memories. Who wouldn't dream of cracking into that?
Crawford sat back in his chair and picked up his newspaper, resuming his reading. Minutes passed before he answered Schuldig.
“The future.”
Schuldig's chair crashed back down on all fours as he turned his head to stare at Crawford. Before he could ask, the precognitive had already answered him.
“You succeed, but it results in failure for the rest of us. Therefore, I will not allow you to continue your obsession. I do hope you understand my decision.”
And that was all there was to be said on the matter.
At least for the time being. Schuldig always found a way to wriggle out of the iron fist of oppression.