Cross My Heart

Another hopeless fic from: Interstellar

Disclaimer: as you all know, I don't own Weiss Kreuz.

a/n: not a self – insert! This fic is my creation. Any resemblances are coincidental.

Chapter 1 ~ Welcome to Schwarz. Hope you enjoy your stay. ~

I lit my cigarette. Yeah, I know it's not healthy but who gives a shit? My old man said the same thing but what does he know? He never took care of mom and me well enough. Ran of with a slut and left my mom and me to rot. My mom eventually did. I moved to Japan to start a new life.

Who am I? The name's Cros Parker, I'm a girl and I'm 20. I need a job. Got an interview at some place owned by this Takatori character. I looked at my watch. 3:30 p.m. It's show time.

I entered the building and went up to the top floor where this Takatori guy is. I knocked on the door.

'Come in,' said the man inside.

I opened the door and casually walked in. I wasn't really dressed well for the interview. Black shirt, black pants, black overcoat, black nail polish. Still have that cigarette between my fingers. Oh, which reminds me. I took another wiff of the lit tobacco and slowly blew out the smoke through my mouth.

'You must be Cros Parker,' said the man.

'That's me, alright. You must be uh…'

'Takatori Reiji. Please, take a seat.'

I sat down on the chair in front of the work desk.

'So you want this job with the Schwarz. If I may ask, why do you want this job anyway?' Takatori asked.

'Extra money.'

'That's all? Money?'

'That's all.' I took another wiff of my cigarette and blew out the smoke. 'What I'm doing now don't pay much.'

'Oh?'

'Being in a band don't pay much.'

'What can you do? Powers, I mean.'

What can I do? Does he seriously want to know? Anything to get the job. I looked at the decorative candles on the work table. I stared at it for a while and it lit up. Yes, I'm a firestarter. 'That's what I can do, sir. I can also read minds, if that's any of your concern.'

'Have you commited crime before?'

I opened my backpack and took out a thick criminal record folder and handed it to Takatori. 'Is this what you want?'

Takatori took the folder and opened it. He read the list of crimes I committed. 'Charged for arson, grand theft auto, armed robbery, double homicide. I'm surprised you didn't get life for all this.'

'I was let out for good behavior.'

'Where were you from?'

'Chicago, Illinois. USA.'

'Any relatives in Japan?'

'Not one. I don't have a single family left in this world. So I don't die for anyone.'

Takatori nodded as he continued reading my criminal record.

'So do I get the job or what?'

'You get the job. Here's the address. I'll tell them you're coming.' Takatori handed me a paper with an address on it.

'Thank you, sir. You could keep that record if you want. I got another folder full of it.' I left the office. Yes!

* * * * *

I knocked on the wooden door of the apartment. Kind of quiet. Creepy… The door opened and there stood an orange haired male in his early 20s.

'Who are you?' the male asked.

'Cros Parker. Your new recruit reporting for duty,' I said sarcastically.

Another man came to the door. Glasses, nice eyes, ebony hair, nice bod. 'You're the new kid?' he asked.

'One and the same,' I replied.

'Come in,' said the dark haired male.

I went in, walking pass the orange haired dude. //You know… you look like a girl.//

He looked surprised. I knew one of them could read minds. An orange hair bloke. //How did you?// he asked.

//Lucky guess… You're stuck with me.//

//Being a girl doesn't mean I'll go easy on you.//

//Don't expect it anyway. I'll survive. Just hope you'll survive me.//

//Smart mouth.//

//I'm not talking.//

The guy just gave me an I-don't-like-you-that-well-so-back-off look. I just looked at him and gave a sly smile. Perhaps this is a start of beautiful friendship. Probably. Not! I saw him looking at my guitar case. //What? You wanna look at it?//

//You wish.//

The apartment was somewhat clean. At least, no boxer shorts hanging on the chairs and all. Good job for a couple of guys. There were two other guys sitting on the couch. One, a very small boy. Around 15 years of age. And the other one looks… mentally unstable. He was playing with knives for God's sake!

'Let me introduce myself. My name is Crawford, Brad Crawford,' said the ebony haired yuppie, 'These are my colleagues, Schuldich,' he pointed at the orange haired bloke at the door, 'Nagi Naoe,' he pointed at the boy, 'And Farfarello,' he pointed at the guy with the knives.

'Hi,' I said. 'The name's Parker. Cros Parker. I wanna get some things straight. Well, actually one thing straight. If any of you feel uncomfortable with me around, just tell me and I'll leave. That simple.'

'Alrighty,' said Schuldich, as if he was waiting for me to say it.

'You'll be staying in the guest room. Not that we used it before,' said Crawford.

'It'll be fine, sir,' I said. It's true anyway. I don't have to sleep in a fancy room. I just need a bed with pillows and blanket and a room with a door and some windows.

'Okay then. Schuldich, show her to the room,' Crawford ordered.

'Whatever,' I heard him mumbled. 'Come on.'

I followed him towards the room. His face doesn't look too happy. 'What's with the long face?' I asked.

'As if it's any of your business,' he replied.

'Not happy to have me?'

'Look, I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity for you to blow it and you could say bye-bye to us, okay?'

'Ouch, that's harsh. I think I can guess what you do here being apart of Schwarz. Well, other than murdering people.'

'You know squat.'

'Oh yeah? I know the fact that you love to annoy Crawford.'

Schuldich stopped and turned around, 'How did you-'

It seems that he could never complete his sentences when I'm around. I just smiled at him and pointed at my head, 'It's all in the head, brother.'

We walked a bit until we came to the end of the hall. 'Here's your room. Make yourself at home,' Schuldich mumbled. He left.

I walked into my new room. Just what I wanted, a bed, some pillows, a blanket, a door and some windows. I took off my backpack and overcoat and tossed them onto the bed. I put my guitar case down on the floor next to the bed and sat down on it. I looked outside the window and sighed. // It's gonna be a long life…//

a/n: how's the first chapter? Tell me if it's okay so I could continue. If it's not, I'll take it off the site. I'm not good at writing fics anyway.