"Come on. I know you want to."
Schuldig had the devil's voice; sweet and seductive and totally drenched in evil. Like the devil, the victims of Schuldig were always aware of what terrors and manipulation the red haired beauty was trying to inflict upon them, but damn it, if they cared anyway.
Farfarello loomed over the snack bar like a half-starved angel of death.
How he and Schuldig had managed to smuggle in a toaster was beyond rational thought. But smuggled it in they had, they had even managed to hook it up to a near-by electrical outlet. Why they choose a large, bulky toaster over something a little more...hmm... covert, was also beyond contemplation. A small electrical prod or even a curling iron would have been more effective.
They may have even gotten away with it.
"Drop it in the eggnog." Yohji Kudoh, the enemy, encouraged from Schuldig's side.
As always, The Voice of Reason descended upon them before the pale Irishman had a chance to plunk the deadly kitchen appliance into the defenseless yellow bowl. The Voice appeared as an annoyed sigh behind the two taller assassins.
"Now really, that's just plain ridiculous, Schuldig."
Looking much put upon, the now sullen Farfarello deposited the weapon of mass destruction into their leaders hand.
"Gentlemen." Crawford clipped before walking away.
Schuldig rubbed his face. "There's always a Scrooge to end your holiday fun."
Yohji shook his head sadly. "It really is a shame."
"It's a TRADITION!" Schuldig whined. "Doesn't he see that?"
"Apparently not." Yohji muttered.
Farfarello batted a golden eye at the two before cheerfully responding, "Actually, the tradition is for Crawford to fuck us over at the last minute and abandon us with no hope of causing mayhem other than the traditional post-eggnog defecation bathroom fucking which always leaves Nagi traumatized for weeks to come."
Schuldig's left eye began to twitch.
Once again the Takatori annual Christmas party was alive and in full swing. Mistletoe, politicians, music, ballroom dancing, eggnog, you know how it goes. Everyone (Crawford) was rather hoping Takatori would have been dead before THIS Christmas party was made to be, but unfortunately, all of Takatori's worthy death threats were put on the back burner the minute Schuldig and Yohji became an item.
So, Takatori was still alive. Omi was still dating his cousin. Schwartz and Weiss grudgingly ignored/worked together on certain missions. And Nagi was being forced to dance with rabid fourteen-year-old fan girls again. As long as this was considered an Alternate Universe, all was right with the world... on the holiest of nights.
Speaking of Takatori's, at that moment, the whole clan seemed to be congregating in the corner. Even the much estranged Persia was there, his red haired girl-Friday Manx at his arm, trying to appear civil. The smile on his lips, as well as Omi's, was not quite believable as the strained force of it looked like it would tear both of their faces in half at any given second.
Ouka, gushing over her new boyfriend was, as usual, completely oblivious.
A dark grin crossed Farfarello's face and he excused himself.
Schuldig spread his fingers across the air in a thoughtful, elegant manner. "You know, that situation is so naturally sick and vile that even I couldn't have done better."
Yohji snorted.
They had both agreed to leave the wrong, wrong, wrong Omi-Ouka relationship alone and just wait and see how it worked out. Personally, Yohji was banking that the two would get sick of each other within the year. Schuldig wagered that the two would produce a child with five heads and six arms.
Nagi emerged from the dance floor, gasping for breath, and nursing his wounded feet. Grumbling miserly things about the Christmas season, he waved one hopeful fan girl off and crawled to the seats lined next to the giant, thirty foot Christmas tree.
It didn't take the young psychic long to regain his breath. Elbows draped over his knees, back hunched, Nagi wet his lips once and scanned the room. His eyes narrowed at he glanced inside the shadows of the unlit tree. "...how pathetic are you guys?"
The tree squawked.
Or more specifically, Ken Hidaka hiding behind the Christmas tree, squawked.
Nagi frowned, "Are you here to spy on your team members or assassinate Takatori?"
"Spy on our team members!" One voice quipped.
"Takatori, shi ne." Another answered.
The branches rustled back and forth in confusion for a moment as if in disagreement. A pile of pine needles was beginning to collapse and cover the nicely decorated blanket of office boxes.
Nagi squinted into the darkness. "...Abyssinian, I didn't see you there."
"Hn." The tree answered.
"CHRISTMAS TREE SQUIRRELS!!! YIYIYIYI!"
A white blur suddenly buried itself in the giant cluster of branches. Delicate, breakable ornaments flew everywhere. Presences were crushed. The tree, swinging and hopping, appeared to be fighting back.
Ouka stared dismally from the dance floor, arm wrapped fast around Omi's arm. "Daddy! He's being weird AGAIN!" She screamed.
Omi recognized the battle screams of his own teammates, he buried his face in his hands and sighed.
As the massive tree continued to seizure, as glass balls and miniature Santa's launched from the branches like missiles, as pine needles fell everywhere, Schuldig and Yohji began to sing. "I'M DREAMING OF A WEISS CHRISTMAS!!!"
Nagi held a vigilant guard over the chaos, keeping the confused security guards away. He held both arms out in front of him and spoke with an air of morbid seriousness. "Tree squirrel infestation. Just give him a moment."
Crawford took out a bottle of aspirin and dumped the whole thing into his martini. Yes, it was another...
"FARFARELLO SHI NE!"
"CHESTNUTS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE! MY CHESTNUTS ARE ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE!"
"Yes, tree squirrels carry rabies. And venereal diseases."
"DADDY!"
"Damn it, Crawford, do something."
...Schwartz-Weiss Christmas.
Schuldig had the devil's voice; sweet and seductive and totally drenched in evil. Like the devil, the victims of Schuldig were always aware of what terrors and manipulation the red haired beauty was trying to inflict upon them, but damn it, if they cared anyway.
Farfarello loomed over the snack bar like a half-starved angel of death.
How he and Schuldig had managed to smuggle in a toaster was beyond rational thought. But smuggled it in they had, they had even managed to hook it up to a near-by electrical outlet. Why they choose a large, bulky toaster over something a little more...hmm... covert, was also beyond contemplation. A small electrical prod or even a curling iron would have been more effective.
They may have even gotten away with it.
"Drop it in the eggnog." Yohji Kudoh, the enemy, encouraged from Schuldig's side.
As always, The Voice of Reason descended upon them before the pale Irishman had a chance to plunk the deadly kitchen appliance into the defenseless yellow bowl. The Voice appeared as an annoyed sigh behind the two taller assassins.
"Now really, that's just plain ridiculous, Schuldig."
Looking much put upon, the now sullen Farfarello deposited the weapon of mass destruction into their leaders hand.
"Gentlemen." Crawford clipped before walking away.
Schuldig rubbed his face. "There's always a Scrooge to end your holiday fun."
Yohji shook his head sadly. "It really is a shame."
"It's a TRADITION!" Schuldig whined. "Doesn't he see that?"
"Apparently not." Yohji muttered.
Farfarello batted a golden eye at the two before cheerfully responding, "Actually, the tradition is for Crawford to fuck us over at the last minute and abandon us with no hope of causing mayhem other than the traditional post-eggnog defecation bathroom fucking which always leaves Nagi traumatized for weeks to come."
Schuldig's left eye began to twitch.
Once again the Takatori annual Christmas party was alive and in full swing. Mistletoe, politicians, music, ballroom dancing, eggnog, you know how it goes. Everyone (Crawford) was rather hoping Takatori would have been dead before THIS Christmas party was made to be, but unfortunately, all of Takatori's worthy death threats were put on the back burner the minute Schuldig and Yohji became an item.
So, Takatori was still alive. Omi was still dating his cousin. Schwartz and Weiss grudgingly ignored/worked together on certain missions. And Nagi was being forced to dance with rabid fourteen-year-old fan girls again. As long as this was considered an Alternate Universe, all was right with the world... on the holiest of nights.
Speaking of Takatori's, at that moment, the whole clan seemed to be congregating in the corner. Even the much estranged Persia was there, his red haired girl-Friday Manx at his arm, trying to appear civil. The smile on his lips, as well as Omi's, was not quite believable as the strained force of it looked like it would tear both of their faces in half at any given second.
Ouka, gushing over her new boyfriend was, as usual, completely oblivious.
A dark grin crossed Farfarello's face and he excused himself.
Schuldig spread his fingers across the air in a thoughtful, elegant manner. "You know, that situation is so naturally sick and vile that even I couldn't have done better."
Yohji snorted.
They had both agreed to leave the wrong, wrong, wrong Omi-Ouka relationship alone and just wait and see how it worked out. Personally, Yohji was banking that the two would get sick of each other within the year. Schuldig wagered that the two would produce a child with five heads and six arms.
Nagi emerged from the dance floor, gasping for breath, and nursing his wounded feet. Grumbling miserly things about the Christmas season, he waved one hopeful fan girl off and crawled to the seats lined next to the giant, thirty foot Christmas tree.
It didn't take the young psychic long to regain his breath. Elbows draped over his knees, back hunched, Nagi wet his lips once and scanned the room. His eyes narrowed at he glanced inside the shadows of the unlit tree. "...how pathetic are you guys?"
The tree squawked.
Or more specifically, Ken Hidaka hiding behind the Christmas tree, squawked.
Nagi frowned, "Are you here to spy on your team members or assassinate Takatori?"
"Spy on our team members!" One voice quipped.
"Takatori, shi ne." Another answered.
The branches rustled back and forth in confusion for a moment as if in disagreement. A pile of pine needles was beginning to collapse and cover the nicely decorated blanket of office boxes.
Nagi squinted into the darkness. "...Abyssinian, I didn't see you there."
"Hn." The tree answered.
"CHRISTMAS TREE SQUIRRELS!!! YIYIYIYI!"
A white blur suddenly buried itself in the giant cluster of branches. Delicate, breakable ornaments flew everywhere. Presences were crushed. The tree, swinging and hopping, appeared to be fighting back.
Ouka stared dismally from the dance floor, arm wrapped fast around Omi's arm. "Daddy! He's being weird AGAIN!" She screamed.
Omi recognized the battle screams of his own teammates, he buried his face in his hands and sighed.
As the massive tree continued to seizure, as glass balls and miniature Santa's launched from the branches like missiles, as pine needles fell everywhere, Schuldig and Yohji began to sing. "I'M DREAMING OF A WEISS CHRISTMAS!!!"
Nagi held a vigilant guard over the chaos, keeping the confused security guards away. He held both arms out in front of him and spoke with an air of morbid seriousness. "Tree squirrel infestation. Just give him a moment."
Crawford took out a bottle of aspirin and dumped the whole thing into his martini. Yes, it was another...
"FARFARELLO SHI NE!"
"CHESTNUTS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE! MY CHESTNUTS ARE ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE!"
"Yes, tree squirrels carry rabies. And venereal diseases."
"DADDY!"
"Damn it, Crawford, do something."
...Schwartz-Weiss Christmas.