~

And it looks like the "fan base" has dropped off to "friends of the authoress."  Drat.  Ahh well, this one goes out to Tal-sama and Rin!

And this time it really DOES stop sucking ^.^

~

My Bloody Valentine

Schuldig reeled backward from the blow and slammed into the far wall of the kitchen, one hand clapped against his face.  "The fuck is that-"

"You told him to do that!" Crawford's voice rang into silence.  Farfarello blinked up at both of them calmly, his hands folded in his lap, as if watching Schuldig get beaten was a common occurrence.  The precognitive turned his fervent gaze on the Irishman.  "And you!  Bringing a Weiss here!"

"Nagi said so," Berserker responded simply. 


"He said nothing of the sort!"

"'Would you do anything for him?' said I. 'Yes, anything.'  'Do you want him?' 'Aye.'"

Pausing in rubbing his poor bruising face, Schuldig laughed.  "Nagi doesn't say 'Aye.'  That's just you, Farfie."

Farfarello nodded slowly.  "But he said everything else."  He bobbed his head for emphasis.  "I remember.  You can ask him."

"It doesn't matter!" Crawford snapped, returning the focus to himself. "What the hell are we supposed to do with a Weiss?  The leader of Weiss?  Dammit, Schuldig-"  He turned around, glaring death at the hapless telepath.  "What were you thinking?!"

"I didn't make him do anything!"  Schuldig lowered his hand from his bruise-battered face.  "Everything he did was his idea!"

"I don't care whose idea it was!"

"Then stop whining!"  Schu rolled his eyes.  "If you're gonna keep complaining, we can just go up right now and..."

"What?  Kill him?"  Brad advanced on him slowly.  "And what do you think that will do to Nagi?  Do you want a depressed telekinetic living in your home, Schuldig?  Where he could drag the walls down around you any second...tear your heart out of your chest...crush-"

"Fuck, I get it."  Schuldig sighed, afraid of neither the threats coming out of his mouth or the enraged look in his eyes.  "Dammit, I get it...my teammates are all out for my blood..." 

"You're just mad 'cause Crawford's bruising your pretty face," Farfarello accused demurely, perfectly calm and still in his chair.

"Maybe I am."  Quite suddenly, Schu's face broke into his usual devil's grin.  "But then again..."  He pushed himself away from the wall.  "If that's what Brad likes..."  He reached up, sliding his arms around the American's neck.  "I'm fine with that..."

Used to the flirting, Crawford only sighed and took hold of the redhead's wrists.  "Not now," he hissed in his ear, lightly but firmly pushing him away.  A slight, barely perceivable flicker of hurt flashed through the telepath's eyes and died. 

"Whatever."  He smiled disarmingly.  "In that case, I'll leave you two alone."  He nodded to the Irishman.  "Good luck, Farf."  Brushing his bloody mane off his shoulder, he turned on his heel and vanished from the kitchen.

Crawford stared after him for a moment before turning back to Farfarello.  "Far-"  He trailed off as the images before him shifted sharply.  His whole body fell still, his arms dropping to his sides, as he watched events not unfolding any time or place near here. 

Once the visions were done he sighed, his eye sight returning slowly to normal.  Familiar with the look, Farfarello sat in silence, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table.  He barely even registered when Crawford pulled out the chair and sank down.  "Farfarello..."

"Yes?"

"...nothing.  Just...don't let this happen again." 

The Irishman nodded and rose.  He knew better than to ask what Crawford had seen.  He padded quietly out of the room, leaving the precognitive to stare dully at his hands.

* * *

"Omi..."  Something warm snuggled up against his side.  "...really here...Omi..."  The blond groaned softly, leaning into the embrace.  Whatever was beside him laughed.  "Yes...my Omi, mine mine mine..."  Something soft and wet pressed against his mouth, moving slowly over his lips.

Omi sighed, blinking his crystalline eyes open slowly to stare at whatever was kissing him.  He met closed eyelids at first, but the thin face, the taste of the mouth against his he knew well...

He lay in a stupor for a minute more before remembering Ken, Nagi and the gun, running out on Yohji.  He cried out, scrambling backwards and tearing his lips from his ex-lover's.


Nagi fell forward, losing balance until he caught himself with his powers.  He tumbled to an unsteady halt on top of Omi, sprawled out over his body.  "Koi-"

"Shut up!"  Omi shoved him away and fell off the bed to the floor.  "Shut up!  I'm not your koi!" 

Nagi stared after him, crawling to the edge.  "Omi..."

"Stay away from me!"  Tears in his eyes, Omi jumped to his feet and ran for the door.

Nagi didn't think to use his powers until Omi had pulled the door open.  Crying out, he threw his telekinetic "rope" forward, circling it around the blond and dragging him back.  As useless as it was to struggle, Omi fought as hard as he could, kicking and screaming against the invisible hold. 

Nagi drew him into his arms, holding him to still his thrashing.  "Omi...Omi, please!"

"Let go of me!  I hate you!"  Omi struggled to pry Nagi's hands off him, although he still had telekinesis to fight against.  "I hate you I hate you I hate you I-"  His jaw suddenly snapped closed; no matter how he tried he couldn't speak, only make wordless close-mouthed screams.

Nagi moved out from behind him and held him down to the bed with his powers, circling around to straddle him.  "Omi...Omi...please...I'm sorry..."  He took hold of his hands.  "Will you listen to me?"  Omi glared at him, shaking his head violently No.  "Omi!"  Nagi fell onto him, burying his face in his neck.  "Omi...I didn't want to...I didn't...I...it was Schuldig!  Schuldig's idea!  He said..."  He choked on a sob, crushing his body up against him.  "He said...to make it look like someone else...and I'd get you back...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

Omi glared at the top of his head, twitching under the hold.  And was THAT supposed to make him love Nagi?!  He was granted enough liberty to turn his head away and stare at the far wall.

Nagi shuddered.  "Omi...Listen, please, please..."  He clutched his hand tightly.  "I'm sorry...I just...I love you, I love you so much, Omi, Omi..."

Nagi, Nagi, NAGI. Omi clenched his eyes shut.  Ken, Ken, Ken...Nagi killed Ken and Ken was dead...

"Omi!"

But Nagi was so sad...

"Omi, please!"

And Ken had been to take him away from Nagi...

"I love you, I love you..."

He'd loved him once too, hadn't he?

"Look at me, Omi, please!"

What kind of bastard was he? 

His mouth could work again.  Omi swallowed.  "N...Nagi..."

Nagi looked up hopefully.  "Yes?"

Omi sat up, his arms loosely hanging around him.  "I..."  Don't forgive him.  Forgive him.  Do I?  "...it's all right."

"It is?"  Nagi's eyes glistened.  "Omi..."

"...I don't..."

Silence.

"...you don't what?"

"I don't...know..."

Nagi smiled through his tears.  God, was he gorgeous...Ken never cried, ever.  He was so strong...but was that a good thing? 

"I've missed you."  Salty lips reached up and pressed against his.  Even through the tears he knew the distinct taste...he'd always thought that Nagi tasted sweeter than Ken.

Nagi's hands were wandering.  Omi shifted against the touches, not wanting this now...especially not now. 

Sighing in protest, Nagi made his whole body go still.  "Omi...please?  For me?"

Omi shook his head.  "Na-"

"Just remember like it used to be?"  A pale, slender hand was sliding up his shirt. 

Omi tensed.  No... He gasped as a chilled pair of fingers tickled his chest, tracing the firm lines of muscle.  "Ken..." he gasped out, barely a whisper.

Nagi didn't hear him, too caught up was he in what he was doing.  He kissed Omi again, stretching out all over him, pressing their bodies so close their skin seemed to melt together.  Omi gasped out as the world around him grew hazier and hazier... By the time Nagi had him in his hand he really ceased caring who it was, what they were doing.  He closed his eyes, letting himself fade off into a familiar, strangely painful rhythm.

* * *

Aya paced their hotel room wall for the sixth time that night.  "Where the hell is he?" he demanded, whirling on Yohji.  "Where would he have gone?!"

"I don't know, stop asking me!"  Yohji glared back at him.  "Dammit, I didn't even say anything to him..."

"You accused him of sleeping with the enemy."

"I didn't accuse him of anything!  I was just-"

"And because of that he's lost in the streets of Tokyo."

Yohji shook his head.  "Omi can't get lost here, he knows it too-"

"Yohji!"  Fujimiya advanced on him dangerously.  "If he's not here in five minutes, you and I are leaving.  And we will not come back until we find him."

Yohji glared at him.  "I'm just as worried as you are, but I'm not getting all anal about it..."  He stood up, grabbing his trench-coat.  "Fuck it.  Let's go now."  He started for the door.  "Better than waiting around with you."

Glowering after him, Aya followed, snatching up his katana on the way out.  "Take your cell phone."

"I have it."

"If you get any clues, call."

"No shit."  Yohji rolled his eyes and breezed off towards the elevator.

With a heavy sigh Aya turned away from him, starting in the opposite direction across the hotel floor.  He'd take the stairs. 

* * *

He shouldn't feel so cold, not with a warm body so close...Omi groaned, shifting towards the warmth.  It didn't make him feel any better.  He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the blankets draped over his and Nagi's bodies. 

He'd never shared this view with Ken.

Fighting tears, Omi disentangled himself from Nagi's embrace and reached for his clothes.  If any, now was the time to run... He dressed, heedless of the fluids smeared over his body, and reached for the door. 

It opened before he touched it.  Omi stepped back, his eyes wide, as the door swung all the way open, revealing the two eldest members of Schwarz.  Schuldig had a length of rope draped across his arms like an anaconda, smiling just as lethally as a snake himself.  Crawford's eyes, however, were stoic. 

"Good evening, Bombay."

~*Tsuzuku*~