Silken ~ Chapter 2

Disclaimers: I have enough change in my pocket right now for a cup of coffee – will that help my "Buy Weiss from Koyasu fund"? I don't think so. Still, I can buy a cup of caramel frappuccino XD

Author: Avium

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: *under works*

Fic length: 2/?

Timeline: AU

Author's note: There, I bucked under the pressure – here is the 2nd chapter of 'Silken'. You people are crazy, you know, but I can't choose my readers ^_~

Word of warning – if you think the first chapter was enough (i.e. a sufficient ending), then do NOT read the rest of this series. I can assure you one thing – it won't be pretty.

italics = denotes flashback

~~ ~~ = denotes Crawford's visions

-@-@-@-@-

"Yeah, I'll have one of those Rhuuuuumba Frappuccinos, please." Insert typical Schuldich leer.

Crawford uncomfortably plucked at his collar, adjusting the tiny company pin with tense fingers. He attributed his agreement to join the German for lunch to a moment of insanity. Of course, Schuldich had played dirty too…

"Hey Brad, can I borrow a pen?"

"Yes."

"Can I take some of your printing paper?"

"Yes."


"Will you join me for lunch?"


"Yes."

"HA!"

He reminded himself that the next time Schuldich were to come into his office, he would have to listen to what he said more carefully. He preferred to eat alone, which meant that the company canteen was strictly out of question. Schuldich's ploy, he figured, was to get him out for a bite so he could see Brad Crawford chewing his food – something which he could safely say no one in the company had seen before...

::Nein, liebe. I'm not half as crazy as you make me out to be. My sole intention is to spend some quality time with you.::

::At Starbucks?::

::Hey, the coffee is good:: Schuldich's continued grinning was beginning to wear on his nerves. ::And besides, you know the ladies here are such pretty little things…::

Crawford frowned, reaching up to push his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, "I'm at a loss on what to say to the likes of you, Schuldich." This only made the fire-haired German grin even wider – "I'll take that as a compliment, liebe."

::Stop calling me your 'lover'!:: Schuldich turned his attention back to the counter, his eyes following the movement of the girl that was preparing his drink. But his train of thought remained with Crawford - ::What's the big deal, Brad? This is Japan – how many of them here understand German?::

::I have you to know that when people learn a foreign language, they usually learn 2 kinds of words ahead of all others – swear words and words for romancing.::

::Ja, ja… You worry too much, liebe. Just take your sandwich and go find a table, will you?::

Crawford wasn't used to being ordered around, but for once he was glad to do just as Schuldich had instructed – it would give him a moment of much-welcomed respite from that walking hormone. He would have picked a table in the corner: away from the crowd passing by outside and allowing him to blend in with the rest of the patrons. It was painfully obvious that he wasn't Japanese from his height alone, and the comments that he kept getting from the locals all ran along the same line – "Oooo… You Americans are so tall! Do you play for the NBA?" Unfortunately, all the corner tables were taken up already, leaving him with only one choice – the table against the glass wall along the pavement where a thousand Japanese walked pass every minute.

There were 2 choices: the first was to continue standing while waiting for a customer to leave, but being 190cm tall meant that his presence would come off intimidating more than anything else. The other was to take the table that was clearly placed there for passer-bys to ogle at. Deciding that he didn't want to get thrown out for scaring the customers, Crawford resigned to his Fate and took the seat.

It was only good manners to wait for his dining companion to arrive before he tucked in, so Crawford waited in silence. One backward glance brought to his attention the fact that Schuldich was busy chatting up the girl despite his pasta and frappuccino sitting at the collection counter already. /Damn, is there no way to stop him from trying to get lucky with every girl around?/

Somewhat miffed, Crawford picked up his coffee and took a sip from it. Starbucks coffee in Japan tasted different from that in America. Then again, so did the McDonald's burgers. He didn't know which one he preferred, but at the moment, he was too busy concentrating on not losing his temper to really ponder such philosophical questions.

~~ A flash of blood red… deep, simmering pools of amethysts… sitting across the table… staring right back at him… ~~

The suddenness of the vision startled Crawford. He almost lost his grip on the handle of his cup, but regained his composure in time to spill but a few drops onto his sandwich. He had almost complete control of the coming and going of his visions, and rarely did they actively seek him out. Such sudden visions always left him feeling a little light-headed, as if he didn't know if he were dreaming or awake. And the fact that he saw the assassin whom he had met a few weeks ago…

"Hey, Brad. You okay?"

Looking up, Crawford saw the German staring at him. His glance was akin to that of a curious scientist as he studied Crawford. He quickly clamped his lips back together, having unconsciously left his jaw unhinged during the vision. "I'm fine, Schuldich. It's just a vision." There was no need to talk so discreetly about his gift – no one was paying any attention to them. That was one thing Crawford liked about city life – no one seemed to pay attention to anyone. Soulless, perhaps, but definitely good for some privacy.

He watched as Schuldich tugged at his suspenders before sitting himself down across him. /Weren't those things out of fashion for ages? Why does he wear that stuff? It's not as if his pants are going to fall down without them…/ And when coupled with the German's crisp white business shirt and pants, the black suspenders came off as strangely mismatched with the rest of his outfit. He wore the same attire as Schuldich, only without the suspenders and he still had his jacket with him. He watched as Schuldich toyed with the company pin on his collar before he tugged it off and dropped it into his breast pocket.

"Damn company pin – weighs down my collar," with that, Schuldich unbuttoned the top 2 buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves before picking up the fork to start on his meal. Crawford said nothing the entire time – he decided that he was simply witnessing the eating habit of the 'Schuldichian' species, and it was mildly entertaining to say the least.

"I cannot believe that you simply walked out for a lunch like this. You're replacing Farfarello as Mr. Naoe's full-time bodyguard, and you just left him just like that," Crawford sighed before he started on his own food, eyes fixed on Schuldich to watch for any reactions. Schuldich looked up, one strand of spaghetti dangling out of his mouth while he replied (much to the distress of Crawford, whose eyes followed the movement of that single strand involuntarily as if under a spell the entire time) – "It's not official yet, Brad. You know our job description – we clean up his 'issues' for him, watch that no one offends him… But you can bet that it'll be a full-time job once Nagi enters politics. It'll be soon enough, seeing how the management is pressing for him to do that like his old man once did."

The dedicated salary man role was easy enough for Crawford to pull off. It simply because he had the looks of a diligent worker (he would deck the first person to say that outright, though), carried a suit off decently and acted well enough to look like a casual high positioned employee and yet not arouse suspicion on his real job – to protect Nagi and take out problem-makers for the company or the kid himself. Schuldich, on the other hand, was a little too noisy to play the role, so it was made very clear that the German was Nagi's bodyguard right from the start – just as it was with Nagi's father.

"What about Naoe senior? Why did he let his son take over so soon?" Crawford couldn't resist asking those questions. He knew that Schuldich had served Nagi's father as a bodyguard 2 years before the man's death, and he was admittingly rather curious as to why someone as young as Nagi took over the software company instead of it being entrusted to the board of directors until the boy came of age. Schuldich sucked in the hypnotising strand before he reached for his coffee and took a good, long sip from it – he had to take a few moments to arrange the facts out in his head before presenting them.

"Shit happens, Brad. Nagi's father was in politics as well, and what I can tell you is that the bills that he got passed benefited the software industry to no end. Well, most of the benefits his own company reaped, of course. You can say that it was out of fear of a politically-motivated assassination that he hired bodyguards for himself and his son. His wife? Died during labour of his second kid and left him alone with Nagi," Schuldich used the chance to steal a piece of lettuce from Crawford's plate and shoved it into his mouth before he continued, "Anyway, he got Farfarello and me to look at his son and him respectively. But Fate doesn't work that way – I've done his dirty work for him, walked by his side for 2 years and not a single attempt on his life. In the end, he died of cancer. Talk about shit… Anyway, that was about a year ago. Don't ask me why he willed the company to his son for immediate takeover – he must have bent a few laws along the way to get that done. But anyhow, he said Nagi would take over the company at once, and that the boy did. Ruthless efficiency and a real knack for programming and hacking got his company this far. Now they want him back in the political arena like his father."

It wasn't hard to visualise Nagi as the director of one of the most prominent software companies in Japan. He might look small and almost delicate when sitting behind his huge desk or during television interviews, but his eyes shone with an intensity that Crawford never knew a 15 year old boy could possess. There was a dangerous intelligence behind those eyes, and Crawford respected them as Schuldich did. When the kid talked, he meant business – few were stupid enough to not listen to him. Those few were no more by now, naturally.

::Farfarello… Have they found out what happened to him?:: Crawford was never fond of that Irish, regarding him as a madman more than a professional bodyguard. He had only seen Farfarello once or twice, but it was enough to cultivate a surge of wariness whenever the Irish appeared in the same room as him. Crawford had also noticed how Nagi seemed more edgy with the Irish around him, despite the fact that Farfarello had proven to be an incorruptible bodyguard. But his father had handpicked the Irish to look after him, so the young man simply accepted his Fate.

::Gott knows – haven't seen him in over 2 months. Your guess is as good as mine:: Schuldich licked at the frappuccino's straw absentmindedly while observing Crawford with glinting tanzanites.

A small nod as Crawford acknowledged that his gut feeling was shared. ::Then he is dead.:: The redhead sucked on the straw, rolling his eyes back as if deep in thought - ::Like I said – Gott knows.::

Crawford abhorred guessing games, and he knew Schuldich was playing such a game with him at this moment. ::So they never found his body?:: Schuldich shook his head, scowling a little as he replied ::Well, if you can still call it a 'body'… I didn't see it, but Nagi did. I saw his mental projection of the carnage and damn… I don't think I want my pasta anymore, Brad.::

::Why would someone want to kill Farfarello?::

::Probably because they wanted to get Nagi. There were too many memories left on the scene when I went there after they took all the bodies away. Like fingerprints memories are unique to an individual, but Farfarello's killers all shared a common goal – to remove Nagi's bodyguards one by one.::

::So… we're at risk too.:: To Crawford's statement Schuldich flashes a feral grin. "Not scared are you, Brad?" Tanzanites flashed knowingly at silent ambers.

"It's my job to look after his welfare, Schuldich, even if my work is focused more on the 'issues' side than being a bodyguard. And I plan to do just that even with such risks facing me," the last of the meal was finished along with the coffee, but questions continued to linger at the back of Crawford's head, "Will there be someone to replace Farfarello?"

Schuldich shrugged, "I've heard some talk about it, but Nagi is keeping it all under wraps. Now, if he gets a lady as his bodyguard…"

::I am very sure that Nagi would approve of sexual relationships on the job, Schuldich.:: The thought was laced with sarcasm, and Schuldich pouted at it – ::You can't blame me for hoping.::

Crawford sighed and turned towards the glass panes to watch the crowd drift by – ladies with their shopping bags, men in their suits, school girls with their Hello Kitty-adorned bags and a certain young redhead with purple eyes…

Wait.

Redhead with purple eyes.

The said redhead was walking along the pavement slowly; hands tucked into his pocket as he walked near the glass, almost as if he were trying to clean it with the right side of his body. His training made him fiercely aware of eyes suddenly laid upon him, and in an instant he had stopped and spun around to face Crawford.

Amethysts into ambers and back – both disbelieving and hard with caution.

Surprised to see such an expression on his companion's face, Schuldich turned to follow his line of vision and came face-to-face with the redhead outside as well. Schuldich assessed the young man's appearances – he was wearing a light blue shirt and black pants with a jacket slung over his shoulders; basically looking like some young upstart. The blood red hair and purple eyes, however, seemed to tell an entirely different story. After a moment or two, the German decided that the staring game between Crawford and the man outside could go on forever if he didn't do something, so cough loudly he did.

"Listen, Brad. I'm just going to go try and get me a free refill," Schuldich grinned knowingly at him before he pushed his chair backwards and walked over to the counter where the blushing girl was waiting.

The American frowned at the poor excuse and nodded to him before he returned his attention to the young man outside. After a moment of tense silence, he made a gesture towards the now empty seat across him and mouthed to him reassurance that he wasn't carrying an offensive weapon with him. The redhead seemed to ponder a little before he finally decided that he would be in no danger of being shot during the busy lunch hour and headed for the entrance to the coffee joint.

Crawford watched as Aya approached the table, paying attention to each footfall and hearing them as they echoed thunderously inside his head. The redhead might be young, but he had a dangerous air about him, akin to that of a predatory panther stealing towards its prey silently. It was reflected even more when the said figure was attired in a business suit, amethysts locked on the American's hand as he approached to watch for any sudden movements that might prove deadly if unnoticed. In spite of all these Crawford remained unfazed – he had bested Aya during the previous encounter, and from the slight outline of the approaching figure, he could not make out a concealed weapon on any part of his body – there was no need to harbour unnecessary fear.

A soft scrapping of the chair legs against the floor, and Aya sat down on the wooden surface.

"Mr. Fujimiya, isn't it?" It was a redundant question, but it served as a good icebreaker. Aya simply dropped his head down on his propped up hands and closed his eyes, acknowledging Crawford's statement with silent affirmation. To Crawford this was a waiting game more than a conversation, and the American folded his arms across his chest to reflect Aya's attitude. Crawford had received professional training in negotiation, and if there was one thing that he was sure of, it was that he had the patience to out-wait the other party in such a situation.

…

/Dum de dum…/

…

::Your friend is pretty quiet, isn't he?:: Schuldich spoke at the back of his head. This invoked Crawford to turn around to see what the German was up to. Schuldich was standing at the serving counter, grinning with a new cup of frappuccino raised triumphantly. The American shook his head at the sorry display, causing Aya to open his eyes and look up as he sensed movement across the table.

"Is he your friend?" The redhead spoke up at last, drawing Crawford's attention back to himself. The raven-haired man studied the expression of wary curiosity on Aya's face for a second before he replied, "A colleague, actually."

As expected, Aya had tensed up immediately upon hearing the news. Knowing that the situation might get blown out of proportion, he nodded to Schuldich and added, "He's not carrying anything, as you can probably tell. Except for that coffee in his hand and the… Starbucks girl in the other." The second part of the sentence had come out in a surprised tone. It appeared that Schuldich was going to have things his way as usual, seeing how he was heading towards the restrooms with the blushing female held firmly in his grasp.

Crawford could feel a headache coming on, and he hated getting headaches. /What am I supposed to tell Nagi after I return from lunch alone?/ ::Have no fear, liebe. I'll be done in a jiffy.:: Any further sound effects or mental images that came from Schuldich after that thought came through were put on automatic smut filter.

"So you are both…?" began Aya, suspicion lacing his tone as he spoke. "I could ask the same thing of you, Mr. Fujimiya. Where do you work? Don't tell me you work in a flower shop in that suit," the raven-haired man pointed his chin at Aya's attire, amber eyes still fixed on the Japanese. It made his look arrogant and a little snobbish, with his arms folded across his chest and his face arranged in an unreadable fashion. To this Aya scowled, but decided that there was no way he could walk out of the situation just like that – it would only make future encounters harder to swallow.

Aya reached for the daisy sitting in the thin white vase and ran his fingers along the petals absentmindedly as he spoke, "Actually, I am a bodyguard for Mr. Takatori." "Takatori?" Crawford cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise, "The politician?" /So what is this? The annual gathering of the bodyguards at Starbucks for a cuppa?/

Aya simply nodded. Crawford realised that the latter seemed to be waiting for a reply from him, so he granted it – "Schuldich and I work for the Naoe Software Development Company." There was no need to furnish Aya with further details on their exact positions – it didn't look as if the redhead cared anyway. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Fujimiya?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Crawford." The American winced at the formality used to address him, and then spoke up when the realisation dawned upon him, "I suppose you would prefer that I address you by your first name, Aya?" The word rolled off his tongue, leaving a strange aftertaste; it wasn't everyday that you get to refer to your occupational rival by his first name, especially if he tried to kill you previously…

Aya said nothing, and instead added a question of his own, "So is it still Crawford? Or Crawford Crawford?" A ghost of a smile played on Aya's lips as he mused over the small joke he made over Crawford's first name; or maybe that smile was more due to Crawford stiffening across him in anger. Either way, he had gotten his point across – that it was about time Crawford gave him his full name as he had done when they first met.

"It's Brad Crawford, but I would much rather you call me Crawford, least I have to 'convince' you that I don't like it when people address me as 'Brad'." Aya said nothing, but from those amethysts alone, Crawford knew that the latter understood him perfectly.

A series of loud raps against the glass startled both of them to awareness at once. Standing outside the shop and with a grin plastered across his face was a brunette with slightly longish hair; his eyes squeezed shut in a friendly expression. Crawford and Aya both gaped at the figure outside for a moment before Aya regained his composure and smiled to the man outside, signalling to him to come in. The brunette grinned even wider and dove right for the door, practically bouncing as he made his way up to them.

"Hey Aya, what are you doing here? We've got to get back to work soon!" A hand was laid on the redhead's shoulder, eliciting a soft smile from Aya. Crawford stared for a moment at the smile – it was a layered smile, each level containing more secrets than the previous. It was the kind of smile that was built upon a cavern of inner demons… and Crawford felt the sudden surge of desire to uncover the secrets behind it…

"Who's this, Aya?" Turquoise eyes turned to face Brad Crawford, and the American decided to take charge of the introductions. He unfolded his arms and put his hand forward, "Crawford." He could have sworn he saw Aya rolling his eyes at the thinly veiled secrecy that he had chosen to adopt. But eye rolling didn't seem the sort of thing for someone like Aya to do, so it was dismissed in an instant. The brunette's smile lessened somewhat, but he still took the American's hand in a firm handshake. "Hidaka Ken. Nice to meet you. You 2 knew each other long?"

"Just acquaintances." Both parties spoke up at the exact same moment, causing them to turn to each other and frown. Ken snickered softly before he tapped his watch, "Well, sorry to have to break up the conversation, but me and Aya have got to fly for a meeting. Maybe you can call Aya on his handphone later, huh?" Ken's grasp on Aya's shoulder tightened slightly before he made a slight jerk to signal to his colleague their need to leave. Crawford nodded and raised one hand slightly as he bade them farewell.

Quiet as ever, Aya rose from his seat and walked away – a single backward glances thrown at Crawford as they walked out of the shop. Amethysts glowed briefly before they were swallowed by the street packed with a flood of passer-bys. It was only then did Crawford realised that he didn't have Aya's handphone number…

/Why do I even care anyway?/

Crawford didn't notice that his eyes were still following after the ghost of the 2 men until Schuldich came by and smacked his hand soundly. The American responded by drawing his hand back, an offended look marring his features. There was another more pressing concern, though, as he flexed his fingers and shook them in a disgusted manner – "Did you even wash your hands?"

"Hey Brad – 'Essence of Schuldich'. I bet it sells, okay?" Schuldich threw his a positively lecherous leer, clearly enjoying the look of horror etched across his companion's face. "Schuldich!!" The German grinned and raised both hands slightly, showing off the clean palms, "Relax, Brad. I don't make it a habit to carry around the traces of sweet loving – spoils my chances for the next hit!"

Crawford had a funny feeling that Schuldich wasn't referring to a mission.

"So… who was that redhead?" Schuldich took back his seat, clearly looking very satisfied with whatever he had just received from the pretty lady.

Crawford shook his head – "No one important."

::You're a bad liar, liebe.::

Crawford frowned, but didn't reply – he preferred not to entertain Schuldich's curiosity because he knew how capable the German was when it came to picking up details. Especially right from his head. So the longer a conversation ran, the more likely he was to give away something that he didn't plan on revealing. It was best not to mention too much for now.

"We should get back – it's 2pm already," Crawford pulled back his sleeve to check the time on his watch. Schuldich began straightening up his clothes, finally looking as almost immaculate as Crawford did. Well, *almost*… He stood up and waved to the girl who had now returned to her work post, and a deep pink flush was her reply. Crawford sighed, removing his glasses and cleaning them with a corner of his jacket before he replaced them and headed for the door. The German ducked beside and grinned as they filed into the streets, shoulders jostling with that of complete strangers' as they headed back towards the towering grey building. He loved poking fun at Crawford, especially when the American was being stuffier than usual.

"Hey Brad – tell me more about him later, okay?"

"No."

"Hey, I know – you should ask him out for lunch at Starbucks again and share a Rhuuuuuuuuuuubma Frappuccino!"

"Schuldich?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

~ End chapter 2

-@-@-@-@-

Author's notes: Like I said – it won't be pretty if I were to continue with this. You know, there is a potential for Ranken or BradKen or BradSchu here too. Hmmmm… Also, I believe I am using Gluhen Ken's design instead. Damn, but he's HOT there XD XD

Anyway – I prefer caramel frappuccinno, but Rhuuuuuuuuumba XD