Author's Note: After far too long, here is the final chapter! I really appreciate all the people who have followed this story throughout the years. I hope you enjoy! As usual, I apologize for any typos or misspellings you may find. Also, I always seem to have formatting issues when I post here so please feel free to check out the story's homepage (the link is in my profile) if something looks weird.
"It's No Good"
by Beth Gulla
/.../ represents thoughts
~...~ represents telepathy
10
Crawford was seated across from him in the quiet diner. Schuldich half-sprawled on his side of the booth, one leg stretched out and his back to the wall. He scratched lightly just under the gauze on his neck, scowling. It wasn't the cuts that bothered him, it was the gauze itself. It was itchy as hell and had been annoying him most of the morning. Crawford, watching him over the edge of his glasses as he stirred his coffee, shook his head.
"Maybe if you had listened to me," he began but Schuldich flipped him the bird.
"Whatever. I'm here now, aren't I? Not so all-knowing after all, are you?"
A muscle above Crawford's eye twitched but that was the only reaction his comment earned him. He considered pushing him further but decided against it. He was tired, cranky from the constant itchy sensation, and hungry, but he didn't have any money and he refused to ask Crawford for some. Considering his last barb, the precog would take great pleasure in telling him no.
Just then the waitress came by with a tray that wafted delicious odors. Crawford had already been at the diner by the time Schuldich found his way over, so he must have ordered earlier. He was still scowling when a plate overflowing with eggs, bacon and hash browns was set in front of him. Toast and pancakes were added to the table but he noticed nothing was set in front of Crawford. When he glanced at Crawford, the other man was smirking as he raised his mug to his lips.
/Point one for the smug asshole,/ he thought and picked up his fork. He continued out loud: "So what now, fearless leader? And why aren't the other two minions here?"
"Because they already know what they're doing." Crawford set down his mug and folded his hands in his laps, regarding Schudlich soberly. "Schwarz is officially dead but Eszet isn't going to give up that easily. It would be a good idea to leave Tokyo, at least for a year or so. By then they will have found some other puppets for their games and will be less inclined to want us back." His eyes got that unfocused look for a moment that came with remembering a vision and he chuckled, as if seeing something funny. A moment later, his attention was refocused on Schuldich but his tone when he spoke was almost too-casual. "You might want to pick somewhere you won't stand out as much. Maybe a tourist hotspot, since there would be plenty of foreigners there." Schuldich tried to come up with a reason for Crawford's suggestion. He watched blankly as Crawford slid out of the booth and stood, picking up the receipt that was face-down on the table as he stood and straightened his suit coat.
"That's it?" he said dumbly. Crawford gave him a thin smile.
"Try not to get yourself killed this time," Crawford said. He pulled out his wallet and dropped a couple bills on the table, smirking when Schuldich's brow furrowed in confusion. "For a cab, unless you planned to walk across town." He left then, stopping at the front counter to pay the bill. Schuldich stared at the money. The flowershop was across town, where he knew Yohji and the rest of Weiss were meeting. He'd told Yohji he would meet him there but he hadn't made any promises. His plan had been to see how the meeting with Crawford went before making a decision. Of course, he hadn't thought about cab money.
Crawford couldn't have known what Schuldich would do, unless he'd seen a vision of it. If that was the case, he was either assuming Schuldich would go along with the vision, or planning on just the opposite, since the German was always quick to do the opposite of what he was told. Either way, it was so like Crawford that it gave him a headache.
/Asshole./
He decided to eat before his food grew completely cold. He'd make a decision once his stomach stopped growling.
It was a weekday morning so luckily the hordes of schoolgirls were absent. Even with the yellow tape and "Now remodeling!" signs, Yohji wasn't sure the girls would have stayed out if they suspected the florists were inside. Fortunately, opaque cloths had been hung to hide the interior from prying eyes. Nagi stood awkwardly near one wall, trying to blend into the background almost, but after forever seeing him in that Japanese school uniform, having him standing there in a regular t-shirt and shorts was like setting up a neon sign with an arrow pointing at him.
Schuldich wasn't here. He'd left as Yohji was still struggling to wake up and Yohji remembered mumbling to the redhead that they would be at the flowershop. He wasn't sure if that meant Schuldich would meet him here or if the telepath would return to the safehouse. He tried to counter the slight feeling of unease by pointing out to himself that the nicotine cravings were still absent. Since Schuldich seemed to control them consciously, that must mean he was still nearby, right?
Ken was sweeping up the broken glass as Aya and Yohji cleaned up the larger pieces of furniture. Aya-chan watched the clean-up from a stool that has escaped destruction. It was sad to see the shop in such disarray but Yohji's emotions felt removed. His own thoughts were occupied over what Manx and Birman would say when they showed up. He guessed the others felt the same because no one spoke as they cleaned. Omi was gathering the wilted flowers that were strewn about but he paused every so often to just stare at nothing. Yohji wondered if he was remembering the night the shop had been attacked. It was easy to say it didn't matter anymore, since Aya-chan was safely back with her brother and half of Schwarz seemed to be on their side, but Yohji knew from experience you couldn't use logic on haunting memories. At one point, the young blonde jumped as if someone had spooked him but he turned to look at Nagi and smiled sheepishly. Nagi wasn't a telepath but something passed between them unspoken before Omi returned to what he was doing.
The clicking of heels made them all pause to look at the doorway that led to their apartments; the door had been broken off and lay to the side. Manx came through first, wearing a navy blue skirt suit that was so different from her usual red, it made Yohji double-take. Birman wore a soft blue suit cut in a similar style that looked quite good on her, but the suit jacket was settled over her shoulders, mostly to accommodate her bandaged right arm and the sling it was in. Manx was walking stiffly, not limping to a great extent, but a second look showed bandages on her left thigh, just peeking out from below the skirt hem. When they had met with the four yesterday, the woman had looked fine.
"Manx, Birman, what the hell?" Ken dropped his broom and crossed the room, uncaring of the debris he kicked out of his way.
"Are you okay?" Omi exclaimed, though he kept hold of his broom.
"Well, as we were just telling what remains of Kritiker, we are all right, although it was a close call," Manx said with a mysterious smile. She glanced at Birman, who took over.
"We were searching the wreckage for some sign of our time but unfortunately, we found only two bodies: Abyssinian and Siberian. The mausoleum–what's left of it, anyway–is so unstable that when we tried to get to where they were half-buried, the building started to collapse again. We got out quickly and continued to search but that was when we really hit trouble. The albino from Schwarz was waiting beside Bombay's body and attacked us when we came upon him. Manx was quick to get some shots off but not before he stabbed her. Then the Este agents showed up. Lucky for us, they were more interested in retrieving the albino but one of them did clip me."
"One thing is clear," Manx said calmly, "Weiß is dead and more than likely, Schwarz with them."
Silence followed these words as their words sunk in. The story was so obviously false and yet their injuries looked real. Manx was carefully keeping her weight shifted on her uninjured leg and Yohji saw a flash of pain cross Birman's face when she moved her shoulders, as if trying to shrug away stiffness. He saw the serious set of their expressions, despite the wry twist to Manx's smile, and knew suddenly that they'd hurt themselves in order to back up the story. He could picture Manx nodding consent to Birman, who thrust a knife deep into her partner's thigh. Then Birman would have stood calmly while Manx took the calculated shot that left her right arm in a sling. Or maybe they'd reversed the order but Yohji knew for certain that they'd done it and concocted this story to make sure their team was free.
"Crawford suggested the addition of Eszet agents," Manx said when she'd allowed them enough time to absorb the full meaning of their situation. "He wanted Kritiker to think Schwarz was out of the picture as well." As they digested this, Yohji saw Nagi glance at the curtain that separated them from the outside. He wondered if Schuldich was still out there.
"So that's it," Birman said, almost regretfully. "Where you go from here is your decision now, though I would suggest staying away from Tokyo for a little while. I think Kritiker had planned to inspect what was left of the mausoleum and it wouldn't be good for them to come across you on the streets." The teammates exchanged looks.
"I've always wanted to see Kyoto," Omi spoke up hesitantly but Ken made a face.
"That place is swarming with tourists," he said.
"But that would be good for business!" Omi countered. Ken stared at him blankly for a second before realizing what Omi was thinking.
"Another flowershop? Are you serious?" The others chuckled but Yohji could see why Omi was thinking along those lines. Their skills were unfortunately limited to killing and flower arranging, with a few extras thrown in like Omi's computer knowledge or Yohji's past as a private investigator.
"Before you start working out the details, I think it would be best we take our leave," Manx said and her smile this time was a little sad. Everyone sobered at this news but they knew she was right. Since she and Birman still worked for Kritiker, it would be best for them to know as little about the quartet's plans as possible. It was bad enough they knew the members of Weiß were still alive.
As hugs were exchanged and they each tried to fit into words the gratitude for all these years, Yohji hung back. He thought of how long he'd chased Manx, refusing to give up even though his usual charms seemed to have no effect. She was the only woman besides Asuka who seemed amused by his flirtations but never fell prey to them. As much as they owed Birman for finding them, Manx was still their first handler, the one who held her loyalty to Weiß over Kritiker. She had tried to help Aya find his sister after they'd been given orders to back off. She had showed up in the nick of time to get Sakura-chan out of the mausoleum during the last battle. She'd trusted Yohji when she could have shot him for the traitor he appeared to be.
Manx was still smiling as she approached Yohji and he took a couple quick steps forward to keep her from limping any further than she needed to. He had no idea what she saw in his expression but she chuckled.
"Take care of yourself, Yohji," she said and raised a hand to the back of his neck. Gently—he was too dumbfounded to resist, really—she guided him down for a chaste kiss on the lips. As he straightened, eyes wide, she grinned. "For all your hard work. And just so you don't stay up late wondering, it wasn't the failure of your womanly charms that kept you from winning me over. I was just...already taken." As she stepped back and turned to look at her partner, who was approaching, Yohji felt like a complete idiot for never seeing what was so obvious. Birman smiled back at Manx with the same warmth before turning to give Yohji a kiss on the cheek. Apparently they had finished their goodbyes to everyone else because once done with him, they headed to the door leading to the apartments, pausing in the doorframe.
"It has been a pleasure working with you all," Manx said and they both bowed together. Then, with sad smiles, they left. It was several minutes before anyone spoke.
"So…should I look for shop space in Kyoto?" Omi asked.
"I guess," Ken said with an over-dramatic sigh and Aya nodded with a smile.
"Count me out," Yohji said then had to hold his hands up to forestall the flood of questions he could see in their shocked expressions. "I'm still coming with you guys! I just thought I might try being a P.I. again."
"Yohji-kun, don't scare me like that!" Omi said, exasperated. "All right, then I will start looking today and see if I can find some apartments nearby."
"Make sure we're near a good school," Aya said. Aya-chan's face lit up and there was hope in her eyes as she watched her brother, apparently waiting for something. After another pause, he sighed resignedly and added, "A university, not a high school." With a squeal of delight, Aya-chan launched off her stool and nearly knocked over her brother with a hug. Yohji wondered if this had been a point of contention between the two of them. Aya-chan had been 16 for the past 2 years and was clearly excited to get out and live life, rather than repeat what she'd done before her accident.
As Aya began to lecture about his conditions of letting her go to college, Yohji stifled a yawn and moved to the tarp that screened the front of the shop. He peeked around the edge but saw no sign of school girls yet. No Schuldich either.
"I'll be right back," he said over his shoulder.
"Don't think you can skip out on helping us clean up, Yohji-kun," Omi called after him as he maneuvered around yellow tape. "We can't leave this mess for Momoe-san!"
He went down to the coffee shop at the end of the block and ordered a small coffee to go. They'd found a hidden cache of money at the safehouse so they were no longer penniless. Plus, they all had money secreted away in banks that Kritiker wasn't connected to. He'd worry about getting that once they'd figured out where they were going. Thoughts of the future made Yohji's stomach twist uneasily but he avoided thoughts of that almost automatically. He found he was scanning the streets for a familiar face and mentally kicked himself.
~Hey.~
Yohji was so startled he almost lost his grip on the coffee. As it was, he only splashed it over his hand, which made him hiss in pain and start cursing. Schuldich, who had been leaning against a tree a few feet from the shop, completely unnoticed by Yohji, grinned as he moved forward.
"You seemed deep in thought so I figured that would be better than saying something out loud," he said but the amusement in his voice contradicted the apology in his words. Instead, he just chuckled as Yohji shot him a dark look, easily picking up the image in Yohji's mind of him dumping the cup over Schuldich's head. As Yohji's anger cooled, he waited for Schuldich to say something but eventually realized Schuldich was waiting for him.
"So...you met with Crawford?" he said finally. Schuldich shrugged.
"He deigned to grace me with his presence," he replied, stuffing his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He seemed different somehow, almost a little distant. "He told me to leave Tokyo. Not much else besides that." As he said this, he reached up to scratch under the edge of the gauze, almost unconsciously, because he scowled and stopped suddenly once he realized what he was doing.
"Have you thought about Kyoto?" Yohji asked before he lost his nerve. He hurried on to add, "You'd probably blend in better with all the foreigners that pass through."
Schuldich stared at him, his scowl draining into a blank expression. Before Yohji could ask what was wrong, the redhead swore—in German, from the sound of it—then began muttering to himself—still in German—with annoyance plain in his voice. Yohji shifted, unsure how to handle this sudden change and what it could mean. With a few exceptions, Schuldich had been noticeably different since being pulled from the lake. He almost seemed sullen, like he had been prepared to die and resented having that taken from him.
He didn't notice that Schuldich's rant had stopped, or considered that the other man might be listening in on this train of thought until he was suddenly shoved backwards. He stumbled a couple steps and the coffee cup went flying as it was knocked out his hand. Schuldich was a blue as he slammed Yohji into the wall of the building next to the flowershop, pinning his arms to the brick on either side of his head. The telepath molded himself against Yohji in a way that had his pulse leaping, especially when he slid his leg between Yohji's and attached his mouth to the blonde's neck.
~You'd prefer things were like the 'good old days'?~ came the familiar purr in his head and Yohji made a strangled sound as a thigh rubbed against his crotch. He felt his cock stir in response and Schuldich was sucking hard enough to hurt, but it was hard to just give in when they were on the goddamn street, right out in open.
"Schuldich!" he hissed and the other man finally pulled away from his throat with a wet, smacking sound. Yohji immediately knew he had left a dark mark behind, probably too high to hide with his collar and almost definitely on purpose.
"Relax," Schuldich said, grinning. "No one's noticed us yet." And true to his words, as Yohji watched, the other pedestrians out and about this morning just passed by them without even a curious glance. The fixed way they all stared straight ahead hinted it wasn't just luck that kept them from being noticed. Yohji glared at Schuldich anyway but the redhead didn't seem deterred. Instead, he let his hands slide down Yohji's arms and chest to settle at his waist, no longer restraining him but not backing away. He nuzzled the other side of Yohji's neck.
"I guess you're feeling better," Yohji grumbled and felt Schuldich's lips curl up against his skin.
"Yes, now that I've got my shit sorted out, as Crawford put it. So...Kyoto."
"Yeah, I...was thinking of being a P.I. Again." Schuldich straightened to meet his gaze and Yohji felt his heart thudding with something besides desire as he waited for Schuldich's reaction.
"Do I get to kill the bad guys we find?" the redhead finally asked and it took Yohji a second to process the question. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until it whooshed out of him in a relieved sigh, the knot of unease in his stomach finally unwinding completely. He felt a grin curling his lips and then realized that the answer didn't really matter as Schuldich was leaning close to kiss him again.
Schuldich's hand moved down to massage his trapped erection and even as Yohji arched into the touch, he wondered just how far the telepath planned to take this. Even if no one could see them, Yohji's heart still jumped every time a person walked by. Schuldich broke their kiss to bend his head and lick at the hickey he'd left just minutes before, rocking against Yohji before reclaiming his lips to swallow the other man's groan.
"Y-yohji-kun!"
Yohji recognized the voice even if the "kun" added to his name didn't give it away. Startled, he broke the kiss and turned his head to see Omi standing at the flap where he himself had exited earlier. Omi's mouth was hanging open and Yohji felt just as shocked, until he looked back at Schuldich, who was smirking.
"I guess my concentration slipped," he said, not sounding regretful in the slightest Yohji saw strangers were still passing them by without a care and was suddenly furious enough to strangle Schuldich all over again. Instead, he shoved the redhead away.
/You'll be lucky to get anything from me now,/ he thought at the telepath. Schuldich's eyes narrowed but his smile widened.
~Is that a challenge?~ The heat in those eyes nearly undid Yohji's resolve right then and there, but he clung to his pride.
/That's a promise./ He tried for as icy a tone as he could then turned and stalked towards the shop. He nearly got tangled up in the off-limits tape as he tried to slip back in but he ignored the curious looks of his teammates' as he snatched up a broom to begin cleaning with a vengeance. If Omi had planned to say anything about Yohji shirking his duties to make-out with Schuldich, he wisely kept his mouth shut after that. In fact, he looked a little wide-eyed with worry at Yohji's sudden ire, even if it wasn't directed at him. Schuldich came in a few minutes later but stayed behind the cracked counter, his eyes never leaving Yohji as he moved around the room. Yohji refused to look at him. The others seemed content to go back to their small talk, though they never tried to include Yohji or Schuldich. If they thought it was odd that the telepath didn't jump in with his usual snarky comments, no one pointed this out.
Only Yohji knew why the telepath was so quiet: he was busy flooding Yohji's mind with silky whispers and images and sensations of the many things he planned to do to Yohji once he finally gave in. It started out small, with just a flash in his mind every now and then, but it quickly escalated into an entire scene that played out so vividly, Yohji had to grit his teeth and will himself not to come right then and there.
"Yohji-kun? Do you want to take a break?" Omi asked hesitantly, seeing that he was breathing hard and clenching the broom handle with white knuckles. Across the room, Schuldich snickered loudly.
"I'm fine," Yohji replied shortly and imagined beating Schuldich repeatedly over the head with the broom until he felt calmer.
The mental torture continued for another hour after that, until Yohji was certain that at any moment he was going to launch himself at Schuldich and fuck him senseless, no matter what audience they had. During a break in the onslaught of sensations, the former members of Weiss looked around and realized they had done all they could to help Momoe-san with the mess. The rest would be fixed by the decorators. Omi and Nagi decided to head back to the safehouse while Aya and Ken took Aya-chan to buy new clothes. Ken shot Yohji a curious look over his shoulder as they left but Yohji clung to his forced smile, promising he'd be there later.
When moments later, Schuldich was bending him over the counter to purr, "Ready to eat those words?" as he ground against Yohji's ass, it was really no surprise that he gave up with a shuddering groan. But even as Schuldich chuckled and slid their minds together, Yohji thought loudly, /It was worth it./