Author's Note: It's getting a little bit racy in this one. I hope I stayed within the bounds of my PG-13 rating. Maybe I should up it to R for this one. What can  I say, Schuldich is a sensual guy. There is some SchuldichxCrawford stuff in here a bit, but nothing serious. Enjoy, I should be wrapping this one up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss, don't  sue me, hire me instead.

Chapter 5

Thump, thump, thump. Crawford, bored to the gills, drummed his finger across the pristine white tablecloth. He knew this habit was considered rude in some circles and also that to outwardly show your boredom wasn't a good sign that you were listening, but this client was absolutely dull. He was a CEO for a pharmaceutical company out of Russia and he was under the strangest notion that he was going to need a bodyguard while in Japan. Crawford foresaw no action in the future; guarding this man would have been more dull that guarding Takatori, and when they guarded that pompous windbag they had Weiss to worry about. He sighed. The client had been going on and on about how nice Russia was and how Crawford should visit sometimes.

The American reached for his second bourbon and soda and pulled it up to his mouth to sip. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the amber liquid; his senses engulfed first by the distinctly sweet smell of the drink, then by the strangely deceiving bitter taste. He opened his eyes, transfixed with the ocher fluid; it seemed to be changing shape. His heart choked, his eyes watered, his throat got dry, it was a vision. The Russian client didn't even notice.

/Black vinyl surged heatedly against silken sheets. Brown and ashen skin seemed to blend together. Orange hair flopped messily, cascading around and about the two lovers entwined on the bed. His hand reached toward the nightstand, grabbing a golden knife running it seductively against the supple skin of her inner thigh, lowering himself to lick the blood from that sacred place. She moaned, enjoying the feel of the pain. Her nails in his back, his lips on her throat, her lips in between her pearly, white teeth…/

Crawford jumped from the table, his breath was caught somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. He practically yanked the spectacles from his face and wiped them quickly. Straightening his tie confidently he looked back down at his stunned client.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Platun, but something has come up." Crawford quickly excused himself.

/I'm going to kill Schuldich/

****

Darkness and a mess of muted orange hair was all she saw. Her eyes flicked open, blurring a bit in the wakeful darkness. She could tell that the covers had been thrown off in her sleep and she reached down to pull them back up. This was futile, her arms were restricted; her eyes flicked open to see Schuldich on top of her. He wasn't touching her, not yet anyway. He was straddling her, knees on either side, hands on either side of her head, a mischievous smile curving his lips. She pulled defensively against the ties but was stilled by defeat.

"Where's Bradley?" Schuldich winced at the way she said his first name. She hadn't called him Crawford since she'd been here and he didn't show signs of forcing her to either. Pushing her thighs apart and eliciting a cry from her, Schuldich sat back on his haunches. He reached over to the nightstand and pulled the knife to his mouth, licking it and testing its sharpness once again. A small ooze of blood and saliva mingled on the golden blade. Her eyes widened in startled shock and Schuldich smiled. He reached in deep and read the honey that was her thoughts.

/What does he want with me? Why do I feel this way? Why am I…wanting this?/

He smiled evilly. Just as he expected, the poor Empath was taking in his emotions unintentionally. He was turned on to the highest point. How could he not be? A defenseless, beautiful prey lying under him, her thoughts sweeter than any other thoughts he'd ever tasted, she would give her body willingly, hating herself later. It was the best kind of sex; the type of sex that made you feel guilty afterwards. No love, just a quick, angry, sensual fuck; it was more human than monogamy.

He brought the knife up to her lips to silence her, rubbing the sharp blade deliberately across the silken petals.

"Open your mouth," he practically purred into her ear, his body wracked with dirty, conceited passion. This was jealousy, anger, and betrayal; all because Crawford had fallen in love a long time ago and she decided to step back into his life. He would make it so that she would never want to be near Crawford again; he would make her so guilty that she wouldn't be able to look the way of the stoic American again.

She did as he said opening her mouth and allowing the knife to slide over her tongue and taste his blood as it mingled with hers. Her mind and her body were slowly giving over their own emotions and melding with Schuldich. She despised being an Empath, hated not knowing what was hers and what was someone else's.  She tried to fight it, tried not to give in, but there was nothing she could do. Just as long as Schuldich was getting off she was going to get off as well.

"Schuldich, please…stop," she squeaked out, writhing under him. His hands were on her breast, squeezing and kneading. Under his intense emotions she was a needy, sultry, wanton slut. He brought the knife from her lips down to her inner thigh, sliding it sensually down, cutting the supple skin there, he watched as a long line of blood started to trickle downward towards the bed. He smiled wickedly and lifted her leg over his shoulder. She looked at him with pleading eyes to stop; this only spurred him onward. His tongue started at her ankle and moved up languidly, the warm, sticky blood and his gummy saliva joining in a taste that wasn't too unpleasant.

"You taste good," he said, his mouth working higher and higher on her thigh. She writhed under him, a feeling not so much passion as lust rising in her mind. She couldn't deny herself, his actions felt good, but she was Crawford's. A tear dropped down her cheek in protest, as her mouth moaned and exhaled sensually in pleasure under the German's ministrations.

Schuldich took the knife, dropping her thigh, having licked all of the blood clean from the chocolate flesh. He licked his lips, removing any residue that may have collected there. He ran the knife down the middle of her chest, cutting the thin cotton of the white tank in a pristine, straight line. He lowered his teeth down to her neck and bit; she moaned, trying to bite it back, but the pleasure too much to bear. Pulling gently at the two sections of the tank, he ripped the small piece of cotton apart, reveling in the humble breasts before him. He smiled; he hadn't been with a woman in a long time.

He traced gently around each breast, careful not to cut the beautiful orbs. Lower he traced the knife, watching as blood spurted slowly from the cuts around her navel. He lowered his mouth, dipping his tongue in and out of her navel, causing strange shivers to rush over her body. She jerked hungrily against the ties, trying to get loose; he knew this meant that she wanted him, but he would torture her mind and body some more.

"You want me," he stated, his warm breath tickling her stomach.

"No… only Bradley."

"Your mind and body say two different things, Meine Schönheit "

"It's you… you!!" she yelled. This was sweet torture. Schuldich lowered the knife to the left side of her thin, cotton panties and cut the fabric as if were only one string.

"Please stop," she begged, tears rushing like hot fire down her cheeks. He did the same to the other side. He lifted her and removed the small garment, leaving her cold and naked before him. He made quick work of his mesh shirt and vinyl pants. He'd become an expert at removing the vinyl from so many encounters with other lovers.

"You want this," he whispered again, kissing her navel, "say you want this." She shook her head, clenched her eyes and watched as he held his length in his hand, preparing to enter. He hovered over her, staring her in the eyes, listening to her jumbled thoughts. He lowered his cheek next to her and whispered into her ear. She could feel his need pressing against her stomach and she held her breath in fear and anticipation.

"Being an Empath is a bitch, ne? Just allow yourself to be free, Thais. Brad is a killer now; he would have killed you without remorse if you hadn't come with us. This is his world now, he won't be here to save you, so let me take you… take you away from this suffering that you feel, this fighting in your mind. Say you want this," his voice held a tremor of sensuality and dominance. She was breathing quickly, her eyes were clenched so tightly that tears could barely fall. She was tugging against the ties so hard that the headboard was shaking; yet she hadn't responded to his demand. Schuldich growled in frustrated impatience. Grabbing her hips, he readied her body for his intrusion.

"Fine, I'll just take it," he said about to thrust.

It happened in slow motion. Her mind reeled with fear, her body racked with want and need; she did want this, but she couldn't bear admitting it. She prepared herself mentally for Schuldich's raping, knowing that her body had been ready long ago. She felt his hips thrust forward and threw her head back instinctually, but there was nothing, not a strange intrusion, no filling, just a void.

She opened her eyes and the scene was filled with an utterly discernible violence. Crawford stood behind Schuldich, the barrel of his 9mm buried into the German's temple. Schuldich was in his same position, still looking at her, still smirking evilly, still aroused.

"Come to join us, Crawdaddy?" he asked sarcastically. Crawford forced the gun harder into the German's temple. Schuldich mentally noted that he would have a bruise there later.

"Get up," the American said coldly. Schuldich did as he said.

"Why don't you shoot me, show her what you really are?" Schuldich teased, Crawford threatened with his eyes, pushing the German outside of the room. He looked over to Thais who'd turned on her side into a makeshift fetal position; her body had only been marred a bit by Schuldich's twisted fetish. He pushed the gun harder into the German's temple, as hard as he could without killing him.

Once he left the room he told Nagi to get up and untie Thais and to get her dressed and to take care of her wounds if they needed care. He and Schuldich headed down to the padded room where they kept Farfarello when the Berserker was bad or where they tortured people. Schuldich knew the consequences and accepted them proudly.

****

He spat blood and laughed back up at him. The America towered over Schuldich, having hit him almost six times with the butt of the gun. Schuldich grabbed his jaw feeling that it was slightly misaligned and grinned back up at Crawford. This was too much fun to deny himself.

"Why so angry, Crawford, we can't share?" Schuldich knew he was traveling dangerous ground, but he enjoyed getting under the American's skin. Crawford grabbed Schuldich by his arms, the German still being naked from earlier and now even more aroused. The Oracle pinned Schuldich against the wall, banging the German's head over and over into the pads, then throwing him back to the ground. Schuldich laughed maniacally and Crawford advanced towards him again. The German lifted his hand in protest and Crawford stopped in his stride, only to see that Schuldich had extended his middle finger in an act of defiance.

In a surge of monstrous anger, Crawford lifted the Mastermind against the wall and used his face as a punching bag. Blow to the eye, Schuldich laughed. A double blow to the gut and chin, Schuldich spat blood but continued to laugh. An annoyed Crawford threw the lithe German to the ground and kicked him in the stomach.

All Schuldich could do was laugh. The pain was searing, but he could do nothing but laugh at the way Crawford was reacting. The American kicked him again, in the face, the chest, the gut; Crawford stepped on his back, mashing the German into the concrete floor. Schuldich laughed louder, the maniacal guffaw ringing heartily throughout the room. Crawford breathed heavily he looked crazy- hair mussed, glasses falling slightly from his face, white shirt stained with Schuldich's blood, sleeves rolled up- he meant business. He grabbed Schuldich by his hair and pulled the German once again against the wall so that the man could stand.

"What's so fucking funny, Schuldich?" Crawford whispered in a tone that held no feeling. It would have made a normal person shiver but to Schuldich it caused his body to become even more aroused. Schuldich laughed and weakly wrapped an arm around Crawford's neck.

"You're messing up my pretty face," Schuldich licked the blood from his lip and smiled. Crawford punched him again in the beautiful nose. Schuldich grabbed his nose but Crawford grabbed those hands and pushed them back against the wall, holding them there.

"Scheiße, that hurt," Schuldich spat. Crawford looked at him with venomous eyes Schuldich smiled a full grin, his bloodied teeth exposed to the American.

"I told you not to mess with her," Crawford said, still holding Schuldich's hands against the wall. The German didn't resist, only stared at Crawford with mixed emotions.

"Do I ever do what you tell me to do?"

"Leave her alone, Schuldich," Crawford threatened, letting go of the German's hands but still holding the small man against the wall.

"Why do you have her here? She doesn't belong in this world. You should have killed her. You cannot hope to reclaim who you once were; you cannot live in her world and she cannot survive in yours," with one swift movement Schuldich wrapped his arms around Crawford's neck and brought their lips together for a messy, bloody, heated kiss.

Amber eyes in the dark watched from the entrance. Her heart caught in her throat, her breath quickened as she watched two men, her Bradley and Schuldich kiss heatedly in the dark. He hadn't pulled away or resisted, only stood there and allowed the wily German to violate his mouth. An intake of her breath broke the two men from their moment. Crawford stared towards the door, then back towards Schuldich. He pulled the gun from its place in the shoulder holster and pointed it at Schuldich.

"You disgust me, Schuldich," he said, taking the safety off and balancing his finger on the trigger. The German stared down the barrel of the gun for the second time tonight, smiling all the while he did it. Crawford tensed, his mind jumbled with mixed feelings and emotions.

/Do it, Crawford, but do not deny who you are/ Schuldich whispered mentally to his leader. The American closed his eyes and inched the trigger slowly back.

"Bradley, No! Stop!" she said, running behind Crawford and grabbing the gun from behind. The American dropped the pistol to his side. Schuldich let out a sigh of relief and watched the scene. Thais's body was arched around Crawford's unbelievably, her head almost buried into his back; now he owed the bitch his life.

"Come on Bradley, let's go to sleep," she said, grabbing the pistol from his hand. Schuldich knew his punishment; he would have to stay down here and think about what he'd done. He watched as Crawford and Thais left and locked the many locks behind them, but before the last lock on the door sounded, the German whispered a few words into the American's mind:

/You cannot live in her world, and she cannot survive in yours./