disclaimer: Weiss belongs to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss and others

thanks to my beta Sybil Rowan

*

Schuldig had always considered chess an advanced waste of time and so far this version had reinforced his opinion. That moron Takatori had wanted to enjoy suckers hacking each other to bits with oversized letter openers, so of course his Talented bodyguards were dragged along to where they would be less use than mundanes.

There was no need for all of them, except Geisel didn't trust either team mate out of his sight. Schuldig wished his team leader was either more or less capable. For civilians to believe a telepath could read a hundred minds simultaneously and fully was an excusable mistake, not that he would excuse it. Anyone Rosenkreuz trained knew it was using a scalpel as a can-opener. At the mental roar of a mob and its victims all Schuldig could do was retreat behind shields.

Behind these he sulked, barely bothering to keep an eye on Farfarello, who was watching these drafted amateurs with the nearest he could get to pain. Schuldig indulged himself with an extra sulk about the team leader, with his trendy gear, and buddy buddy manner, and his determination to backstab Schuldig and Farfarello for one plugged yen. Schuldig was so enjoying this he almost missed some trench coated lunatic going after Takatori with a sword.

Well, the lunatic did move damn fast. Schuldig barely had time to try for his mind, sliding off an unexpected shield of natural talent and determination, before fire licked over the sword, and he was holding a blade of white and gold flames.

And Geisel was a grandstanding bastard.

Showing more presence of mind than most mundanes on first meeting talent, Trench Coat threw the sword at Takatori. Its molten metal burnt upon flesh. Clothes had flared to flame before Geisel quenched his fire. Trench Coat pulled a knife from his boot.

"We better go," suggested Schuldig.

He wasn't scared of any mundane or ten, but a mob was a different matter, and it took no telepathy to see rehearsed excitement and unexpected terror was liable to explode in unexpected and unpleasant fashion. Geisel pyro'd the knife even hotter. Of course, Trench Coat threw it at Takatori.

This time Farafarello caught it. Holding the red-hot knife with what his scarred face could show of rapture, he said, "The angel with the burning sword!"

Trying to do something useful for once, Geisel sent a fireball at Trench Coat. It briefly gilded a face which did look like an angel's, except the expression. Schuldig thought he might have seen it before, and decided it didn't matter. The attacker was already ducking bullets from Hikage's regular guard. The fireball hit one of them.

Hikage's absurd drag outfit slipped to show the gun holster beneath as he slunk behind Trench Coat, aiming his gun to shoot him in the back. Schuldig didn't blink when Hikage fell, but he did when he saw an arrow in his neck.

Geisel stepped between Trench Coat and Takatori's black beetle tuxedo to pull himself up to his full height, in a gesture taught at Rosenkreuz more for intimidation than efficiency. Even if the pudgy and narrow-shouldered Geisel wasn't as tall as either, his eyes had the ruby glint of a pyrokinetic at work. The mundane guards scattered. They were brave men against thugs with guns and madmen with swords, but psychic tricks had them spooked.

Schuldig said, "We have to go!"

A wall of fire ringed Takatori and his three Talented bodyguards. "At our leisure."

Trench Coat came through the fire. He would, Schuldig thought. He left it to Farfarello to deal with his angel and started to drag Takatori away. It was a hell of a team where he was the voice of reason.

Takatori shook him off with disdain and said, "I can walk by myself." Also, he insisted on leading the way up the roof. Schuldig could tell himself he didn't care what a mundane mark thought of him, but he knew he was an awful liar.

Even a telepath could feel uneasy at the sudden emergence into open night, all the darker after Geisel's flames. The helicopter was waiting already. So was someone in ambush position in the shadows. Schuldig skimmed a mind flavoured rather like Trench Coat's, reading he was hunting Hikage, and was glad to see non-Hikage out of the way. He opened his link with Farfarello as little as he could, for it was like listening to a symphony with the instruments out of step. And loud. He could just read Farfarello was annoyed most of his angel's attention was on Takatori. //Hurry up, Farf.//

//He's good.// Farfarello was enjoying the exercise, the challenge of working through his own wounds and bloodloss. His opponent was a score card.

Schuldig shuddered back from this seductive illusion, so opposed to his own tendency to drown. //Did you have to give him a knife?//

//He took it.//

//Come on, Farfarello!// Schuldig hooked into the berserker's mind and began to pull.

//Just a moment while I - //

Geisel snapped, "Come on, Schuldig!"

"Just a moment while Farf - " Schuldig most unexpectedly obeyed an order and dove into the helicopter behind Takatori. Farfarello and Trench Coat were just behind him.

Crammed among other bodies in the helicopter's hatch, Schuldig tried to see what was happening through the eyes of the roof lookout. The top feeling was confusion. These – Weiss – guys were after Hikage. Though – Ken – could make out little in the general mess, the total non-Hikage-ness of Takatori and even more of Fafarello was obvious.

Trench Coat had one knife to Farfarello's two. He was good, but it was obvious Farf could have finished him off clean. Clean, however, was not Farfarello's thing. Ken saw the long curlicues of red on his team mate and jumped to help. Farfarello turned to brush away what looked like a punch, and met a fistful of knives, which would have torn a normal man's arm off. Even he staggered under the blow, and Trench Coat stepped up and thrust his knife through Farfarello's single eye into his brain.

Feeling his linked team mate's death knocked Schuldig to his knees. Geisel grabbed the green blazer and needed all his Talented strength to drag the taller man into the helicopter already lifting off. Geisel tossed a parting tongue of flame at their new acquaintances. It spectacularly flamed part of the roof but both Weiss managed to dodge it. Mostly.

As his trench coat kindled, Farfarello's killer screamed something and threw the bloody knife into the hatch. The pilot flinched. For a second the helicopter choked and staggered.

Takatori leaned forward in his seat and slapped the back of the pilot's head. "Keep your mind on your flying!" Probably intimidated., the machine behaved itself. Leaning back again, he said to Geisel, "I am not at all impressed with Esset's finest. It took you two tries to finish off the Fujimiya family, and that's with my help."

So theat's where he'd seen the good-looking redhead. Trivial, as he'd thought. Schuldig's last glimpse saw Fujimiya standing poised as if to leap after the helicopter, ignoring the coat burning on his shoulders.

Schuldig turned away to focus on playing the tediously common mixture of greed and vanity, which was Takatori's remnant of soul. He was angry at this fool mundane's reprimand, but he also felt threatened, as he was meant to. No one had ever suggested there was any life for him outside Esset, and he was theirs to the core.

Among Takatori's trash, his feeling for his daughter gleamed surprisingly clean. Something for Schuldig to exploit, or at least amuse himself with.

Also, he'd 'suggest' to Geisel Farfarello's replacement be a pretty girl. Though he'd miss the hard kink with Farfarello. That was the nearest his team mate had to a mourner, and more than Schuldig expected for himself.