The moment John Linton was robbed, everybody knew about it. And everybody knew who it was. Nobody was surprised..

Some people laughed at him, saying he deserved it. He was reputed as the most arrogant bastard Rosenkreuz had ever seen. Others supported him. It was his property, after all, and some pretty valuable stuff at that—from what the rumors said, at least. Nobody in their right mind would say exactly what was hidden in their possession. But Linton bragged about his stuff more than enough for everybody to know that it was worth being stolen.

Either way, Linton went storming through the halls, stirring up such a huge fuss that some of the teachers even dismissed class.

Brad Crawford slipped into the small group surrounding Linton as he headed toward one of the detainment facilities inside the school. Knowledge was power, and the only way to find out what had happened was to hear about it from the source. And the best way to hear it from the source was to listen in on conversations.

"It doesn't matter," the man was raving. "I've been robbed by a fifteen year old boy!"

"How did you let yourself?" Crawford asked, raising an eyebrow.

Linton didn't respond, but found a quick excuse of not doing so by entering the facility. Through a double-sided mirror, they saw a student leaning a chair he was sitting on precariously back on two legs. The boy couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, with flaming red-orange hair and fair skin.

The student looked around, and stared a moment at the mirror across the wall. He then got up and cupped his eyes to look into the room, showing bright blue eyes. He then smirked and walked back to the chair. Without warning, he picked up the chair and threw it, breaking the outside of the mirror. Nearly everybody in the room jumped.

The door in the room the student was in opened then, and a few men entered.

"What're they doing?" one of the people asked.

"Strip search," Linton replied. Of course, only Linton would ask for a strip search.

The student himself took it calmly. He raised his arms when they told him to, even took off his own clothes. The whole time he was smirking, as if telling them all it was pointless, they wouldn't find anything.

And it was true. Not a thing was found. Even when they led him away to search "body cavities"—Brad shuddered at the thought—there was nothing found. Nothing was found in any of the boys' dorms, either. There was nothing they could tell John Linton. It was like the property had vanished into thin air.

As the walked back toward his dormitory after the search, Brad joined him.

"You know," Crawford said. "I've heard a lot about you. Causing a lot of trouble for yourself, aren't you?"

"I don't know who you are or what you're talking about," the redhead said.

"Crawford," Brad said. "Your name is Schuldig—last name unknown—you are fifteen years old, could be the top of your class but aren't, and have been known for causing the faculty trouble, your latest offense thievery."

Schuldig stopped to look at Brad.

"What does it matter to you?" he asked, carefully.

"I know John Linton pretty well," Brad said, motioning for them to continue. "He completed school with me."

"Pretty chummy then, aren't you?"

"No," Brad said. "I was just saying how I know him. He's got too big of an ego for the small amount of precognitive ability that he has."

"Oh?" Schuldig's voice was mocking. "Jealous, are we?"

"Hardly," Brad said emphatically. "I'm not being bitter. I'm being honest. He's a medium class Precog that's paid too much for what he's worth."

"And you think you're paid what you're worth?" Schuldig commented, pausing look at Crawford's expensive suit and shiny shoes.

"Yes."

Schuldig gave the older man a skeptical look before continuing. "Now who's ego is overblown?"

"The only thing that Linton hold onto tighter than his fortune is his dick," Brad said. "He's extremely hard to fool. How'd you do it?"

"Are you kidding?" Schuldig smirked. "I wish he had made it harder. I just went and opened his safe while he was sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah. Arrogant pricks like him are the easiest to seduce," Schuldig said, raising an eyebrow. "They think that everybody wants them, so there's no way they'd be betrayed."

"You seduced him," Brad deadpanned.

"Yeah," Schuldig said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not as innocent as I look, trust me."

"Where'd you hide it?"

Schuldig seemed to consider saying for a moment, before shaking his head.

"Not telling. All I can say is that when you have hot goods, it's best not to keep it on you, in your stuff, including your dormitory or dormitory bathrooms."

Brad nodded. The kid was definitely smart. He was already beginning to like the redhead.

"I'll talk to you later," he said. Then added, "Maybe."

"Maybe."


Notes: I know, I know. I should finish stuff before I start new things. But oh well. Inspired a little by the Pink Panther. This will probably involve some sort of cheese. Probably either Feta or String Cheese. Eh….meaning figuratively. Reveiws are much appreciated.