A/N - Welcome to the second chapter of 'Flames Of Insanity'! Thank you to
those who reviewed and my sincere apologies for the crappy formatting! I
have re-posted the chapter and hopefully the problem has been fixed, so if
anyone want's to read the first chapter without the 'gibberish' around all
the apostrophes and comma's etc. feel free. The next chapter won't be
posted until I have 6 reviews up! For all the Schu fans he gets a good run
in this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz, Project Weiss and various other people who I can't be bothered listing have that honour! Bugger them all! (Oh God that was a stereotypical Aussie line wasn't it?! ^_^;;)
Flames Of Insanity
Chapter 2
The Precognitive man started to turn towards the door when a rude beeping noise stopped him. He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder and finally lay his bespectacled gaze on the cause of the interruption - the fax machine. The infernal beeping continued and Crawford found himself cursing a member of his team, of German decent who would remain nameless for the time being, for the second time in five minutes. The Telepath had decided to bestow this 'thoughtful' gift upon him for a birthday present. That had been two months ago and the recipient of the present was already prepared to throw the machine out of his office window and happily watch it plummet 23 storeys to strike the pavement below and meet it's metaphorical death.
Controlling his emotions with the thought of what the grinning German would say if he did carry through with his plan, the ebony haired leader strode slowly over to the, still beeping, machine. Upon reaching the grey streamlined annoyance it proceeded to cleverly spit out a sheet of paper with a photograph and several paragraphs of neatly printed writing that seemed to be, on average, size 8 font. Muttering under his breath, using colourful language of which Schuldig would be proud, he snatched up the sheet and, in doing so, received a paper cut - which instantly started to bleed.
Cursing more profusely the American swiftly changed the document from one hand to the other, ensuring its safety from the crimson liquid trickling from his finger. He stalked back towards his desk and furiously jerked open the topmost drawer causing its contents to jump violently out of their normal positions to realign themselves in various abnormal positions around the drawer. Plunging his bleeding hand into the clutter that had now taken over the drawer the Schwarz leader satisfactorily curled his fingers around the cardboard Band-Aid* Box and removing it, and it's presently vital contents, from the drawer. It was only then that the precognitive man, who usually had everything organised and prepared in advance, realised that he had run out of useable hands.
The American paused for a moment, thinking quickly, and the still enduring fax machine deposited another sheet of minutely printed text onto the steadily rising pile already established in its tray. As Crawford was about to cast the original sheet, in his hand, onto his spotlessly- clean mahogany desk, thus allowing him to tend to his wound, the phone rang again. Gritting his teeth in annoyance the American made a split-second decision,
"Schuldig!"
The summoned German appeared within seconds to lean against the office doorframe, smirking at his team leader's stressful moment. The orange- haired assassin stood there for a moment before saying with a half chuckle,
"Yes?"
Crawford whirled around to set his seething gaze on the smirking, apparently stress-free, Telepath. He brandished the sheet of paper clutched in his uninjured hand at the German and snapped,
"Hold this."
Schuldig shrugged casually, still smirking, before stepping forward and taking the sheet slowly and carefully from the American, clearly enjoying the annoyance his slow and deliberate actions were causing his superior. Just before he plucked the sheet fully from the ebony haired man's grasp he grinned, causing his sapphire eyes to dance mischievously,
"Sure.Braddie."
Crawford shot a malicious look at the teasing Telepath before he turned back to the loudly protesting telephone and snatched it up,
"Hello?"
Schuldig chuckled as he watched the American quickly recover his usual, business-like personality. It wasn't often that Brad Crawford openly lost control, however to the Telepath each time was as entertaining as the last. Tearing his laughing eyes away from the dark haired man who was now engrossed in the 'ever important phone conversation' the curious German idly flipped over the sheet in his hand, inspecting it with wicked blue eyes.
To Schuldig's amusement Crawford saw what the other man was doing and tried to catch the other man's eye in order to glare at him, in a vain hope the red-head would put the sheet down. The German made as if he was blissfully unaware of the older man's efforts, while inwardly laughing. The American soon realised his attempt was failing, suffering from extreme frustration and stress he picked up the nearest object, a dictionary with h is free, bleeding hand, the other clutched the receiver. He stepped across the room as far as the telephone cord would permit and swung the dictionary dangerously close to Schuldig, who jumped away with astonishing speed just in time. Caught off guard, the American was forced to slam the dictionary down onto his desk with a crash that made its drawers rattle.
Schuldig snickered before deliberately turning back to the sheet in his hand, at the same time edging cautiously out of the American's reach. When he took in the contents of the sheet his devilish grin broadened and his navy blues began to dance in dangerous amusement. Preoccupied with delight as he was, the Telepath did not miss the sound of the phone being hung up. Instead he raised his wicked eyes to meet those of the steadily advancing team leader and flipping the sheet around so the American had a clear view,
"Who's the cutie?"
* Do I have to disclaim 'Band-Aid'? Oh well, I'll do it anyway simply because I don't want to get sued for, er, *advertising* their product.I don't own 'Band-Aid'!
A/N - After my insane little disclaimer.! This fic will take a little while to really get going, I apologise if you don't like fics that take a little while to start - I've planned the whole story out. I know where it's going, but because of that I also know that I need to spend some time at the start getting the basics of this fic down because it's going to be important later on! (By basics I mean how I interpret the team to interact with each other, personalities etc.) Hope you enjoyed this installment!
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz, Project Weiss and various other people who I can't be bothered listing have that honour! Bugger them all! (Oh God that was a stereotypical Aussie line wasn't it?! ^_^;;)
Flames Of Insanity
Chapter 2
The Precognitive man started to turn towards the door when a rude beeping noise stopped him. He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder and finally lay his bespectacled gaze on the cause of the interruption - the fax machine. The infernal beeping continued and Crawford found himself cursing a member of his team, of German decent who would remain nameless for the time being, for the second time in five minutes. The Telepath had decided to bestow this 'thoughtful' gift upon him for a birthday present. That had been two months ago and the recipient of the present was already prepared to throw the machine out of his office window and happily watch it plummet 23 storeys to strike the pavement below and meet it's metaphorical death.
Controlling his emotions with the thought of what the grinning German would say if he did carry through with his plan, the ebony haired leader strode slowly over to the, still beeping, machine. Upon reaching the grey streamlined annoyance it proceeded to cleverly spit out a sheet of paper with a photograph and several paragraphs of neatly printed writing that seemed to be, on average, size 8 font. Muttering under his breath, using colourful language of which Schuldig would be proud, he snatched up the sheet and, in doing so, received a paper cut - which instantly started to bleed.
Cursing more profusely the American swiftly changed the document from one hand to the other, ensuring its safety from the crimson liquid trickling from his finger. He stalked back towards his desk and furiously jerked open the topmost drawer causing its contents to jump violently out of their normal positions to realign themselves in various abnormal positions around the drawer. Plunging his bleeding hand into the clutter that had now taken over the drawer the Schwarz leader satisfactorily curled his fingers around the cardboard Band-Aid* Box and removing it, and it's presently vital contents, from the drawer. It was only then that the precognitive man, who usually had everything organised and prepared in advance, realised that he had run out of useable hands.
The American paused for a moment, thinking quickly, and the still enduring fax machine deposited another sheet of minutely printed text onto the steadily rising pile already established in its tray. As Crawford was about to cast the original sheet, in his hand, onto his spotlessly- clean mahogany desk, thus allowing him to tend to his wound, the phone rang again. Gritting his teeth in annoyance the American made a split-second decision,
"Schuldig!"
The summoned German appeared within seconds to lean against the office doorframe, smirking at his team leader's stressful moment. The orange- haired assassin stood there for a moment before saying with a half chuckle,
"Yes?"
Crawford whirled around to set his seething gaze on the smirking, apparently stress-free, Telepath. He brandished the sheet of paper clutched in his uninjured hand at the German and snapped,
"Hold this."
Schuldig shrugged casually, still smirking, before stepping forward and taking the sheet slowly and carefully from the American, clearly enjoying the annoyance his slow and deliberate actions were causing his superior. Just before he plucked the sheet fully from the ebony haired man's grasp he grinned, causing his sapphire eyes to dance mischievously,
"Sure.Braddie."
Crawford shot a malicious look at the teasing Telepath before he turned back to the loudly protesting telephone and snatched it up,
"Hello?"
Schuldig chuckled as he watched the American quickly recover his usual, business-like personality. It wasn't often that Brad Crawford openly lost control, however to the Telepath each time was as entertaining as the last. Tearing his laughing eyes away from the dark haired man who was now engrossed in the 'ever important phone conversation' the curious German idly flipped over the sheet in his hand, inspecting it with wicked blue eyes.
To Schuldig's amusement Crawford saw what the other man was doing and tried to catch the other man's eye in order to glare at him, in a vain hope the red-head would put the sheet down. The German made as if he was blissfully unaware of the older man's efforts, while inwardly laughing. The American soon realised his attempt was failing, suffering from extreme frustration and stress he picked up the nearest object, a dictionary with h is free, bleeding hand, the other clutched the receiver. He stepped across the room as far as the telephone cord would permit and swung the dictionary dangerously close to Schuldig, who jumped away with astonishing speed just in time. Caught off guard, the American was forced to slam the dictionary down onto his desk with a crash that made its drawers rattle.
Schuldig snickered before deliberately turning back to the sheet in his hand, at the same time edging cautiously out of the American's reach. When he took in the contents of the sheet his devilish grin broadened and his navy blues began to dance in dangerous amusement. Preoccupied with delight as he was, the Telepath did not miss the sound of the phone being hung up. Instead he raised his wicked eyes to meet those of the steadily advancing team leader and flipping the sheet around so the American had a clear view,
"Who's the cutie?"
* Do I have to disclaim 'Band-Aid'? Oh well, I'll do it anyway simply because I don't want to get sued for, er, *advertising* their product.I don't own 'Band-Aid'!
A/N - After my insane little disclaimer.! This fic will take a little while to really get going, I apologise if you don't like fics that take a little while to start - I've planned the whole story out. I know where it's going, but because of that I also know that I need to spend some time at the start getting the basics of this fic down because it's going to be important later on! (By basics I mean how I interpret the team to interact with each other, personalities etc.) Hope you enjoyed this installment!