(no subject)
Finally I had time to work on this! I literally have had no time to even look at it for the past two days. I don't like being that busy with other things. :P
Title Obsession: Punishment
Rating Still nothing disturbing
Characters Schuldig, Crawford, Farfarello, Nagi
Summary Schuldig is punished.
Notes So, it's been a while since I've watched the series, and I don't remember if Schwarz ever found out that Omi was a Takatori . I don't really care enough to go and find out, since even if they didn't know on the show, I'm sure C&S must have known (they don't have the right Takatori yet, but that didn't come out right away anyway). So this means I am (kind of) adding this story to the canon timeline of the show! In a sense...
He stood on the balcony, not because he wanted to be outside, but because he couldn't stand being around Crawford when he was feeling like this. Most of the time he didn't envy the American anything, but there were times when he did envy his level of self control. Even if Crawford felt angry enough to resort to violence, you could never tell it by looking at his face. He was always a mask of calm composure, the slight narrowing of his eyes the only tip off that something was amiss.
Schuldig was nothing like that. He let himself get caught up in damaging emotions, he allowed frustration to show on his features. Never one to keep his mouth shut, there was always a comment to be made, a retort too good to go unsaid. Crawford was a master of the iron mask, while Schuldig's features were pliable.
Don't stay on the balcony all night, Schuldig. It will reach freezing temperature later, and you can't afford to get frostbitten.
He glared out into the night, his lips curling in disgust. Though it was indeed getting to be quite cold, he refused to go inside to get a jacket. Maybe he would freeze. That would serve Crawford right. He could still feel the sting of the American's blow, though he hadn't touched Schuldig. The sting was all mental, all emotional.
“I have just spoken with Takatori. There is a new target, a quick one meant for this evening. The details of his betrayal are not important, all you need to know is that he must be disposed of. Farfarello, you will handle this. Please do not make too much of a mess.” The Irishman nodded, comprehension clearly written on his face.
“Nagi, you will accompany him.”
“Nagi? Why are you sending him?” Schuldig locked eyes with Crawford, confusion twisting his features. It was his job to accompany Farfarello, his responsibility. Nagi preferred to remain at the apartment.
Crawford's steel mask was not altered as he stared at Schuldig. “I can no longer trust you to handle matters by yourself. You will remain here. I have another job for you.”
There had been no further discussion, and no further explanation for their partners. Farfarello and Nagi left with the knowledge that Schuldig was no longer trustworthy (though not without a malicious look from the young Japanese boy, clearly unhappy at being forced outside) and he was left with Crawford. Moments passed before Schuldig had asked for clarification. Crawford had not given any.
An hour later and now he stood outside, fuming. Of course it was his own fault for going after Tot, he understood that. But he could control himself when it mattered!
“You don't need to punish the others in order to punish me.”
Crawford did not look up from his dossier when he answered Schuldig's comment. “I am not punishing them. If I send you, I would also have to accompany you, and I simply don't have the time.”
“But you don't have to accompany me! I only visited her last night because there was nothing going on! If you were going to need me, you would have told me.”
“But I told you to leave her alone. You did not listen. Therefore, I can no longer trust you.”
“Then why keep me around? Why not get rid of me if you no longer trust me?” He leaned over the desk, his face inches from Crawford's, knowing it would annoy him.
Crawford looked up at him finally, the mask still present. “You're the telepath, Schuldig. Why don't you take a look and tell me?”
Seconds passed before the German finally straightened up and looked away. “You know I can't read you.”
Crawford then looked back at his papers. “You are supposed to be the best of your ability, Schuldig. Perhaps if you spent more time in training, you could pass my shields.”
That was the moment he'd left the office, and the warning about frostbite had followed him. The comment stung in particular because he knew there was an edge of truth to it. He should be able to slip past anyone's shield. He had the ability, he'd proven that at Rosenkreuz. He'd gotten lazy after leaving the school. He'd developed too great of a respect for his American counterpart, refusing to pass his barriers and survey his thoughts. Now he simply wasn't able to, and it was his own doing. So then why wasn't he inside right now, blasting Crawford with everything he had?
“Steeped in disfavor still?”
He turned his head, eyes on the balcony door. Farfarello had returned.
“What did I miss?”
“One more blasphemer has been reunited with his Lord.” Farfarello joined him on the balcony, his pale skin free of blood spatter. Perhaps it was more useful to send Nagi after all.
“Happy to hear it,” he looked out at the darkening sky and wished for a cigarette. “How was Nagi?”
Farfarello paused in his response, and Schuldig listened to his mind, hearing his contemplation. “Very clean.”
Schuldig grinned and clapped a hand to Farfarello's back. “I'll remember that the next time I'm allowed out.” He then opened to the door, heading back inside. “We should go in before we succumb to frostbite.” He didn't wait for Farfarello, he instead made for Crawford's office, knowing what he had to do.
He didn't knock before entering. He didn't have to.
“And what has your sojourn on the cold balcony shown you?” Crawford's voice was bland, devoid of any emotion.
“I've come to tell you that you're right, I should not be allowing my ability to waste away.” He stood in front of the desk, his arms crossed and his eyes on the American. Crawford did not look up.
“You believe that working on the girl's mind will give you the mental exercise you require?”
“Yes.” He waited for an answer, knowing that whichever one he received, there would be no refute.
Crawford made him wait for a few minutes more. Finally he closed the document he'd been studying and filed it in the cabinet behind his desk. “You make a valid point.”
It was tough, biting back the comment he wanted to make.
“I'll think about it. For now you should be concentrating on our current mission.”
“And what is our current mission?” Once again his face showed his emotions (confusion and surprise) and once again Crawford's remained an impassive mask.
“We have just learned some valuable information about one of Weiss' members. The young one.”
“Bombay?”
“Yes. If you make yourself comfortable, I'll fill you in.” Crawford indicated to one of the extra chairs in the room, and Schuldig sat. When he next met the eyes of the American, the steel mask was no longer there. There was a smile on Crawford's face, the kind that was only there in rare circumstances, the kind that he alone of Schwarz was ever a witness to.
“So, what is this news of Bombay?” He tried to appear nonchalant in his question, but he knew it must be something big to have Crawford so amused.
“He is the son of Takatori Reiji.”
Title Obsession: Punishment
Rating Still nothing disturbing
Characters Schuldig, Crawford, Farfarello, Nagi
Summary Schuldig is punished.
Notes So, it's been a while since I've watched the series, and I don't remember if Schwarz ever found out that Omi was a Takatori . I don't really care enough to go and find out, since even if they didn't know on the show, I'm sure C&S must have known (they don't have the right Takatori yet, but that didn't come out right away anyway). So this means I am (kind of) adding this story to the canon timeline of the show! In a sense...
He stood on the balcony, not because he wanted to be outside, but because he couldn't stand being around Crawford when he was feeling like this. Most of the time he didn't envy the American anything, but there were times when he did envy his level of self control. Even if Crawford felt angry enough to resort to violence, you could never tell it by looking at his face. He was always a mask of calm composure, the slight narrowing of his eyes the only tip off that something was amiss.
Schuldig was nothing like that. He let himself get caught up in damaging emotions, he allowed frustration to show on his features. Never one to keep his mouth shut, there was always a comment to be made, a retort too good to go unsaid. Crawford was a master of the iron mask, while Schuldig's features were pliable.
Don't stay on the balcony all night, Schuldig. It will reach freezing temperature later, and you can't afford to get frostbitten.
He glared out into the night, his lips curling in disgust. Though it was indeed getting to be quite cold, he refused to go inside to get a jacket. Maybe he would freeze. That would serve Crawford right. He could still feel the sting of the American's blow, though he hadn't touched Schuldig. The sting was all mental, all emotional.
“I have just spoken with Takatori. There is a new target, a quick one meant for this evening. The details of his betrayal are not important, all you need to know is that he must be disposed of. Farfarello, you will handle this. Please do not make too much of a mess.” The Irishman nodded, comprehension clearly written on his face.
“Nagi, you will accompany him.”
“Nagi? Why are you sending him?” Schuldig locked eyes with Crawford, confusion twisting his features. It was his job to accompany Farfarello, his responsibility. Nagi preferred to remain at the apartment.
Crawford's steel mask was not altered as he stared at Schuldig. “I can no longer trust you to handle matters by yourself. You will remain here. I have another job for you.”
There had been no further discussion, and no further explanation for their partners. Farfarello and Nagi left with the knowledge that Schuldig was no longer trustworthy (though not without a malicious look from the young Japanese boy, clearly unhappy at being forced outside) and he was left with Crawford. Moments passed before Schuldig had asked for clarification. Crawford had not given any.
An hour later and now he stood outside, fuming. Of course it was his own fault for going after Tot, he understood that. But he could control himself when it mattered!
“You don't need to punish the others in order to punish me.”
Crawford did not look up from his dossier when he answered Schuldig's comment. “I am not punishing them. If I send you, I would also have to accompany you, and I simply don't have the time.”
“But you don't have to accompany me! I only visited her last night because there was nothing going on! If you were going to need me, you would have told me.”
“But I told you to leave her alone. You did not listen. Therefore, I can no longer trust you.”
“Then why keep me around? Why not get rid of me if you no longer trust me?” He leaned over the desk, his face inches from Crawford's, knowing it would annoy him.
Crawford looked up at him finally, the mask still present. “You're the telepath, Schuldig. Why don't you take a look and tell me?”
Seconds passed before the German finally straightened up and looked away. “You know I can't read you.”
Crawford then looked back at his papers. “You are supposed to be the best of your ability, Schuldig. Perhaps if you spent more time in training, you could pass my shields.”
That was the moment he'd left the office, and the warning about frostbite had followed him. The comment stung in particular because he knew there was an edge of truth to it. He should be able to slip past anyone's shield. He had the ability, he'd proven that at Rosenkreuz. He'd gotten lazy after leaving the school. He'd developed too great of a respect for his American counterpart, refusing to pass his barriers and survey his thoughts. Now he simply wasn't able to, and it was his own doing. So then why wasn't he inside right now, blasting Crawford with everything he had?
“Steeped in disfavor still?”
He turned his head, eyes on the balcony door. Farfarello had returned.
“What did I miss?”
“One more blasphemer has been reunited with his Lord.” Farfarello joined him on the balcony, his pale skin free of blood spatter. Perhaps it was more useful to send Nagi after all.
“Happy to hear it,” he looked out at the darkening sky and wished for a cigarette. “How was Nagi?”
Farfarello paused in his response, and Schuldig listened to his mind, hearing his contemplation. “Very clean.”
Schuldig grinned and clapped a hand to Farfarello's back. “I'll remember that the next time I'm allowed out.” He then opened to the door, heading back inside. “We should go in before we succumb to frostbite.” He didn't wait for Farfarello, he instead made for Crawford's office, knowing what he had to do.
He didn't knock before entering. He didn't have to.
“And what has your sojourn on the cold balcony shown you?” Crawford's voice was bland, devoid of any emotion.
“I've come to tell you that you're right, I should not be allowing my ability to waste away.” He stood in front of the desk, his arms crossed and his eyes on the American. Crawford did not look up.
“You believe that working on the girl's mind will give you the mental exercise you require?”
“Yes.” He waited for an answer, knowing that whichever one he received, there would be no refute.
Crawford made him wait for a few minutes more. Finally he closed the document he'd been studying and filed it in the cabinet behind his desk. “You make a valid point.”
It was tough, biting back the comment he wanted to make.
“I'll think about it. For now you should be concentrating on our current mission.”
“And what is our current mission?” Once again his face showed his emotions (confusion and surprise) and once again Crawford's remained an impassive mask.
“We have just learned some valuable information about one of Weiss' members. The young one.”
“Bombay?”
“Yes. If you make yourself comfortable, I'll fill you in.” Crawford indicated to one of the extra chairs in the room, and Schuldig sat. When he next met the eyes of the American, the steel mask was no longer there. There was a smile on Crawford's face, the kind that was only there in rare circumstances, the kind that he alone of Schwarz was ever a witness to.
“So, what is this news of Bombay?” He tried to appear nonchalant in his question, but he knew it must be something big to have Crawford so amused.
“He is the son of Takatori Reiji.”