Title: Downtime
Author: Gina Lin
Genre/Anime: Weiss Kreuz- Humor
Pairings: None
Warnings: Language
Rating: PG-13
Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net
Summary: What the Schwarz "bad guys" do between missions and getting smacked around with golf clubs.
Downtime
"Yes sir, I understand."
"No sir, I don't anticipate any problems."
"Yes sir, I'll make sure he doesn't."
"Good evening to you too, sir."
Bradley Crawford hung up the receiver with a barely concealed sound of exasperation.
"Feel like an escalator?" asked Schuldig, who was leafing through Cosmopolitan magazine, of all things.
"What?" asked Bradley, scowling at the redhead's impish expression, which was more or less habitual.
"Everyone riding your ass?"
"No, just our latest client," growled Bradley, pinching the bridge of his nose behind his glasses.
"Aw, poor Braddy," said Schuldig, although there was no sympathy in his voice. He took a pen and began to write down something in the magazine.
"My name is Bradley, or Mr. Crawford," said the tall American in a tight voice.
"Want to take a love quiz, Mr. Crawford?" said Schuldig, grinning and winking at him.
"Is that what you're doing?" asked Crawford in disgust. "What a wretched waste of time."
"Ja, but I'm answering it the way you would," said the German man, still grinning.
"Ah, we're not compatible, Braddy, what a shock." He shook his head in mock dismay.
"Some people like to live dangerously," grumbled Crawford, walking past him. "At least I know where you get your fashion tips from."
"I'm just here for the scintillating conversation," said Schuldig, still writing industriously.
"He's going to punch you out one day," said Nagi, who was curled in a corner of the sofa, reading "Interview with the Vampire".
"It says here that you and Farferello are compatible," said Schuldig, raising his eyebrows. "Ah Nagi, I never knew you were so kinky. Well, actually I did, come to think of it."
Nagi snorted delicately. "Sorry, I'm not into pain," he said, licking a finger and turning the page of his book. "Damn, a paper cut," he said, sucking his finger with relish.
"Watcha watching Farfie?" asked Schuldig, as the pale Irishman changed the channel.
"Baywatch," said Farferello in quiet voice. "Pamela Anderson's oversized breasts make God very upset." He looked at the television sideways, then righted his singular gaze.
"Me too," agreed Schuldig. "I'm sure there's a special corner of hell reserved for her plastic surgeon."
"Want to know your love match, Farfie?" asked Schuldig.
"Is it Kali the Hindu goddess of death?" asked Farferello seriously.
"Spot on," said Schuldig. "Either her or Martha Stewart," he added.
"Cool," said Farferello, changing the channel to the "Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy" on Cartoon Network. "I like Martha Stewart, she has pretty knives. And chickens."
"I like her, too," he said, pointing to Mandy as she once again outsmarted the Grim Reaper and reduced him to a pile of sobbing bones.
"Sorry, she's not on the test," said Schuldig.
"I hate tests," said Farferello. "Especially those ones where they tie you up and put electricity in your brain."
"I hate those too," said Schuldig, nodding agreeably. He laughed as a pimple on Billy's back grew into another Billy.
"You two mind keeping it down?" asked Nagi irritably. "I'm just getting to the good part where Lestat and Louis are sleeping together in the coffin."
"Can I read that when you're done?" asked Farferello.
"You'll like the part where Lestat drains a rat's blood into a wineglass and drinks it," said Nagi.
"I did that last week," said Farferello, sounding unimpressed.
"Ew," said Schuldig, shuddering. "He's not lying."
"I am too, lying makes God cry," said Farferello, smiling sweetly.
"Reading your mind is like trying to find out were Footlocker is in the mall from those directory maps," grumbled Schuldig, putting down the magazine.
"'You are here,'" quoted Farferello, snickering.
"Son of a goddam bitch!" came Crawford's voice from the other room.
"I wonder what happened to Crawford?" asked Nagi in a bored voice. He took the nail file he was using as a bookmark and began to clean his nails.
"He burned his finger on the teakettle," said Schuldig.
"I thought you couldn't read his thoughts," said Nagi, turning the page of the book telekinetically as he began to file his nails.
"Pain is different," said Schuldig, scowling. "If you must know, Mr. Nosey Nagi."
"I must," said Nagi, almost smiling. "And your alliteration could use some work."
"Just for that, you get to put Farfie to bed tonight," said Schuldig, sitting next to the Irishman and patting him on the shoulder.
"I don't mind putting Farfie to bed," said Nagi, sticking out his tongue at Schuldig.
"See, I knew you were compatible," said Schuldig, snickering.
"I hate you," said Nagi, indifferently in a minor burst of teenaged angst.
"So what else is new?" the red-haired telepath shrugged.
"Goddamit!" yelled Crawford from the kitchen.
"Cut his finger slicing a bagel," said Schuldig, before Nagi could ask.
"We shouldn't let him in there," said Nagi.
"Bradley should watch Martha," said Farferello. "She's very good at slicing things."
"I'm sure you would know," said Nagi, placing the file back in his book and looking at the clock.
"What should we order for dinner?" he asked.
"Pizza," said Schuldig.
"You always say pizza," protested Nagi.
"I like pizza," said Schuldig. "So?"
"Pepperoni is sliced," said Farferello. "So is Canadian bacon."
"I think that's another vote for pizza," said Schuldig, smiling patting Farferello on the arm.
"I think it's a vote for slicing," said Nagi.
Bradley came out of the kitchen with a cup of tea, a bagel and two bandaged fingers.
"Did someone mention pizza?" he asked.
"Outvoted again," sighed Nagi, floating his book over to the shelf and letting it drop with a resounding plop.
"You're so abused," said Schuldig petulantly.
"I get to pick what kind of pizza," said Crawford imperiously, picking up the phone.
"No green peppers," said Farferello suddenly in a loud voice.
Everyone looked at him.
"They give Nagi gas," he explained.
"JEEZus," exclaimed Nagi, cringing in embarrassment. "Tell everyone, why don't you?"
Farerello snickered and changed the channel to "Iron Chef".
"Ah, sea urchin battle," he murmured.
The End
Summary: What the Schwarz "bad guys" do between missions and getting smacked around with golf clubs.
Downtime
"Yes sir, I understand."
"No sir, I don't anticipate any problems."
"Yes sir, I'll make sure he doesn't."
"Good evening to you too, sir."
Bradley Crawford hung up the receiver with a barely concealed sound of exasperation.
"Feel like an escalator?" asked Schuldig, who was leafing through Cosmopolitan magazine, of all things.
"What?" asked Bradley, scowling at the redhead's impish expression, which was more or less habitual.
"Everyone riding your ass?"
"No, just our latest client," growled Bradley, pinching the bridge of his nose behind his glasses.
"Aw, poor Braddy," said Schuldig, although there was no sympathy in his voice. He took a pen and began to write down something in the magazine.
"My name is Bradley, or Mr. Crawford," said the tall American in a tight voice.
"Want to take a love quiz, Mr. Crawford?" said Schuldig, grinning and winking at him.
"Is that what you're doing?" asked Crawford in disgust. "What a wretched waste of time."
"Ja, but I'm answering it the way you would," said the German man, still grinning.
"Ah, we're not compatible, Braddy, what a shock." He shook his head in mock dismay.
"Some people like to live dangerously," grumbled Crawford, walking past him. "At least I know where you get your fashion tips from."
"I'm just here for the scintillating conversation," said Schuldig, still writing industriously.
"He's going to punch you out one day," said Nagi, who was curled in a corner of the sofa, reading "Interview with the Vampire".
"It says here that you and Farferello are compatible," said Schuldig, raising his eyebrows. "Ah Nagi, I never knew you were so kinky. Well, actually I did, come to think of it."
Nagi snorted delicately. "Sorry, I'm not into pain," he said, licking a finger and turning the page of his book. "Damn, a paper cut," he said, sucking his finger with relish.
"Watcha watching Farfie?" asked Schuldig, as the pale Irishman changed the channel.
"Baywatch," said Farferello in quiet voice. "Pamela Anderson's oversized breasts make God very upset." He looked at the television sideways, then righted his singular gaze.
"Me too," agreed Schuldig. "I'm sure there's a special corner of hell reserved for her plastic surgeon."
"Want to know your love match, Farfie?" asked Schuldig.
"Is it Kali the Hindu goddess of death?" asked Farferello seriously.
"Spot on," said Schuldig. "Either her or Martha Stewart," he added.
"Cool," said Farferello, changing the channel to the "Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy" on Cartoon Network. "I like Martha Stewart, she has pretty knives. And chickens."
"I like her, too," he said, pointing to Mandy as she once again outsmarted the Grim Reaper and reduced him to a pile of sobbing bones.
"Sorry, she's not on the test," said Schuldig.
"I hate tests," said Farferello. "Especially those ones where they tie you up and put electricity in your brain."
"I hate those too," said Schuldig, nodding agreeably. He laughed as a pimple on Billy's back grew into another Billy.
"You two mind keeping it down?" asked Nagi irritably. "I'm just getting to the good part where Lestat and Louis are sleeping together in the coffin."
"Can I read that when you're done?" asked Farferello.
"You'll like the part where Lestat drains a rat's blood into a wineglass and drinks it," said Nagi.
"I did that last week," said Farferello, sounding unimpressed.
"Ew," said Schuldig, shuddering. "He's not lying."
"I am too, lying makes God cry," said Farferello, smiling sweetly.
"Reading your mind is like trying to find out were Footlocker is in the mall from those directory maps," grumbled Schuldig, putting down the magazine.
"'You are here,'" quoted Farferello, snickering.
"Son of a goddam bitch!" came Crawford's voice from the other room.
"I wonder what happened to Crawford?" asked Nagi in a bored voice. He took the nail file he was using as a bookmark and began to clean his nails.
"He burned his finger on the teakettle," said Schuldig.
"I thought you couldn't read his thoughts," said Nagi, turning the page of the book telekinetically as he began to file his nails.
"Pain is different," said Schuldig, scowling. "If you must know, Mr. Nosey Nagi."
"I must," said Nagi, almost smiling. "And your alliteration could use some work."
"Just for that, you get to put Farfie to bed tonight," said Schuldig, sitting next to the Irishman and patting him on the shoulder.
"I don't mind putting Farfie to bed," said Nagi, sticking out his tongue at Schuldig.
"See, I knew you were compatible," said Schuldig, snickering.
"I hate you," said Nagi, indifferently in a minor burst of teenaged angst.
"So what else is new?" the red-haired telepath shrugged.
"Goddamit!" yelled Crawford from the kitchen.
"Cut his finger slicing a bagel," said Schuldig, before Nagi could ask.
"We shouldn't let him in there," said Nagi.
"Bradley should watch Martha," said Farferello. "She's very good at slicing things."
"I'm sure you would know," said Nagi, placing the file back in his book and looking at the clock.
"What should we order for dinner?" he asked.
"Pizza," said Schuldig.
"You always say pizza," protested Nagi.
"I like pizza," said Schuldig. "So?"
"Pepperoni is sliced," said Farferello. "So is Canadian bacon."
"I think that's another vote for pizza," said Schuldig, smiling patting Farferello on the arm.
"I think it's a vote for slicing," said Nagi.
Bradley came out of the kitchen with a cup of tea, a bagel and two bandaged fingers.
"Did someone mention pizza?" he asked.
"Outvoted again," sighed Nagi, floating his book over to the shelf and letting it drop with a resounding plop.
"You're so abused," said Schuldig petulantly.
"I get to pick what kind of pizza," said Crawford imperiously, picking up the phone.
"No green peppers," said Farferello suddenly in a loud voice.
Everyone looked at him.
"They give Nagi gas," he explained.
"JEEZus," exclaimed Nagi, cringing in embarrassment. "Tell everyone, why don't you?"
Farerello snickered and changed the channel to "Iron Chef".
"Ah, sea urchin battle," he murmured.
The End