Chapter 6: Farfarello's Waltz

Waltz, The Devil's dance
Waltz, And in twilight gray
Waltz, Darkness grows much faster
-The Misfits, "Mephisto Waltz"

"Still cat-watching, Farf?"

Farfarello looked at him, then looked back out the window. "Nay. The kitten's gone." Schuldig came up to stand next to him. Even in the dream, he could smell the scent of blood that he associated with Farf. He could also smell brine, but his mind shied away from that. The waves of Farfarello's insanity were soothing, in their own way. That's why he had always preferred to spend time with him over the others.

Hell, he had even taken the blame for some of the things that the Irishman had done, like shooting the boss's daughter. That had been a shame. That could have been a great source of amusement, especially the way that things had been going with Bombay and her. But Farf was even more amusing than that insipid spoiled girl ever could have been.

Farfarello had been more than fun. Farf had been an anchor point for him that was now gone. Farf had done far more for him in that respect than even Crawford. Schuldig didn't want to admit it, but one of the reasons that he felt Farfarello's loss so keenly was the effect it had on him. It had put him on shaky ground.

The insane Irishman and the controlled American had been the two minds he had returned to time and time again, using their star-bright minds to orient himself in the tempestuous seas of humanity. They were unique outposts in the myriad of minds that he brushed against every day. No matter where he was, Schuldig was able to lock in on Farfarello's purple-tinged madness or Crawford's white-hued focus.

Then Crawford, his last remaining beacon, had left. True, Schuldig had left first. But Crawford had still been there, within his psychic reach. Crawford had changed that, moving out of Schuldig's tenuous contact. With the American now gone, Schuldig was left to spin chaotically, losing himself in the damned normal world. He let dream-Farf's thoughts flow over him, blissfully stabilizing him even as it spun him in a new direction.

Would you like to dance?" Schuldig blinked at the dream's new turn. Fujimiya's sister was in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

"My pleasure, Fraulein," he told her as he swept them both onto the floor. A waltz was playing, slow and dreamy. The girl in his arms was humming along under her breath, her small hand light on his shoulder. It was like she wasn't there at all. She was dressed all in white, like her brother, who was watching them from his post by the wall. The other members of Weiß were also there, also in white.

Balinese was talking to a black-clad woman with short dark hair. The expression on his face was wistful, regretful. Ah. Balinese's lost love, Asuka. Or would that be Neu? The youngest member of Weiß was handing a glass of punch to his sister/cousin, Ouka. He smiled fondly at the two. They had provided him with such entertainment.

It had been delicious when he had discovered that Bombay was the long-lost Mamoru, and thought to be Ouka's half-brother. It had been sweeter still to pull the truth from the minds of the Takatori clan. Oh, they had been so savory. Too bad they were all dead. They had afforded him with a wealth of treats to relish.

Hmm. He had to revise that. One Takatori was still alive. Bombay would afford some amusement for a while yet. Especially now that he had to take the role of Persia, his dearly departed boss, then uncle, and still unsuspected father. Schuldig's wicked grin widened. Weiß had always been such fun.

Crawford sailed by, dancing with Persia's redheaded secretary. Crawford was wearing black, she was dressed in white. Schuldig cracked a grin. This was too much. His mind had color coded the 'good guys' and the 'bad guys' in their appropriate colors. "What a joke," he laughed.

"Aye."

Schuldig turned back to his dance partner to find that he was now dancing with Farfarello. Strangely, Farf was wearing a white tux. "When we dance, who leads?" the Irishman asked him.

"It looks like I do," Schuldig told him as he twirled the other man around the floor. The golden light made Farfarello's single eye gleam like a flat gold coin.

Farfarello tilted his head curiously to one side. "Do ye?" He stopped, held out a wineglass to Schuldig. "Drink with me, and drink as I."(1)

Schuldig took the glass filled with dark red wine. The scent was Crawford's, but the taste was bitter.

"You'll like this better."

Schuldig knew that voice, missed it more than he wanted to admit. No, needed it more than he wanted to admit. Crawford stood there, offering him another glass. The glare on Crawford's lenses prevented the telepath from seeing the expression in his eyes. Schuldig took the wineglass. Crawford embraced him, pulling him back against his chest, and wrapped his hand around the telepath's. "Drink it, in remembrance of me,"(2) he whispered in Schuldig's ear.

When Schuldig woke, he imagined he still could taste the sweetness of the wine that Crawford had given him, covering the bitterness of Farfarello's offering.

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A/N:

Fraulein - "miss" or "single girl" in German.

(1) Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
Drink with me, and drink as I.
-William Oldys (1696–1761): On a Fly drinking out of a Cup of Ale.

(2)1 Corinthians 11:23-25

Well, here's Chapter 6. It's a dream, so it's kinda weird. It looks like I might have an interruption in my post schedule, folks. I might be moving in the near future, and moving takes ALOT of time, preparation and energy for me. Last time I moved, I had 13 boxes of just books. I've gotten more since then. I might try to bang out a block of chapters, just to shut Schwarz up. Nagi seems to be really pushing for it. The next chapter is all his. His and a certain member of Weiss', that is. We'll just have to see how I can carve out my time sigh. Thanks again to Hisoka. Everyone loves a steady reviewer! I'm no exception. Thanks for keeping me going, you don't know how much I appreciate it!

Leokitsune Jun. 13-15, 2004 11:21 pm (Eastern time)

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