Author's Note: This is a series of vignettes I wrote in Brad Crawford's perspective. There is no particular order to them, so you, the reader, may get the feel of how I believe his mind works; as one frame of a scene after the other, rather like a jumble of visions you could say.

The dates are put up their for your convenience, so you may easily keep track of when the scene is taking place. This could be before, during or after the series. It is based on the idea that the series runs in the year 1995.

Some scenes are long, some scenes are short, again, there is no order.

I hope you enjoy this enough to review.

Warning: Language, mild sensuality, mention or use of drugs, violence.

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything mentioned here that appears in Weiss Kruze. I also do not claim continuity with the anime/manga/audio recordings.

Glimpses

1

1995 A.D.

"Don't you dare say 'I told you so'!"

"I wasn't going to." I was picking my fingernails with my pocketknife.

"I can hear you thinking it! Stop thinking it!" Schuldig snapped back, blue eyes on fire. Well, only one was on fire, the other was sporting a livid bruise and was nearly swelled entirely shut. A damn shame Takatori had abused his sighting eye; he wouldn't be able to conduct field work for weeks.

"And it's your fault! God, did you have to let him hit me that hard?!"

"It was to make a point. After the second time you screwed up, I figured some punishment was due. Learned your lesson?" I sneered at him, leaning back in my desk chair.

Schuldig snorted and leaned forward, placing his thin hands palm down on the top of my desk to support him as he came closer into my space. He was smiling, his smug little grin, but I was winning. I was right, he was wrong. It was surprisingly simple. And he was at a loss for words, I could tell by the implied threat in his stance.

I picked at my nails, flicking the dirt I scraped out from under them onto the floor. He looked down at my hands and grimaced. His own nails were scrubbed clean, always carefully maintained shells on the tips of his fingers. He had time to bother with them while I did not. Unlike some people, I worked.

He caught my last thought, his mind skimming the surface of my guarded thoughts. He growled and shoved himself off my desk, turning and leaving the room in a huff.

"There's fresh ice in the freezer," I called after him. I caught him flipping me an intricate, probably insulting gesture as he marched down the hall and forced myself not to laugh.

Fin Chapter 1

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