Disclaimer: Neither Weiss Kreuz or the characters belong to me. I'm just havin' some fun.

Schuldig liked sunshine.

How Crawford had discovered this, he was not sure. All he knew was that he had learned it, and that it had helped make his days a whole lot more manageable.

On days when it was sunny, the telepath was cheery (in his own sadistic way). On days when it was rainy (gloomy could also be used to describe these days), the telepath was easy to anger and a bother to deal with. Crawford had learned to not bother the telepath on gloomy days.

Today was a sunny day. Schuldig was standing out on the balcony, staring up at the sky. This was a regular sunny day ritual that the telepath carried out. When Crawford had first seen him do it, he had been sure that the telepath was going out there to kill himself.

" So how long before we leave to get the insane one?" Schuldig asked, looking over his shoulder. Crawford noticed that Schuldig never turned around to face him while standing out on the balcony.

" He is not insane" Crawford replied, getting up from the bed, joining the redhead on the balcony. He knew that the redhead felt this was an invasion of space, but it was Crawford's money paying for the hotel room, so he chose not to care.

Schuldig just shrugged his shoulders, going back to staring. His interest was focused on some couple below. They were holding hands, a man and a woman, smiling as they walked down the sidewalk in newlywed bliss.

Crawford looked away as the woman began to clutch her head in sudden agony, his visions telling him what he already knew. Este protocol did not call for him to stop Schuldig, and so he did not. It was usual for Schuldig to do things like this; he had grown use to it by now.

" We're leaving for Ireland next week" Crawford said, watching the woman slump to the ground. He glanced over at Schuldig, looking away as his own eyes met blue ones. The smirk on Schuldig's face unnerved him.

" How fun" Schuldig muttered, pushing away from the rail with his hands in his pocket.

Crawford watched him walk out, watching as the telepath plopped himself down onto the bed. His bed. A frown creased his brows as he glanced towards the unoccupied bed to the right of the room. That was supposed to be Schuldig's bed. Hadn't he made that clear enough their first night here?

As Schuldig rolled over onto his side, curling up on the bed, Crawford felt a stirring in his belly. He would not be able to sleep there tonight, not while the sheets still smelled of the cologne Schuldig wore. Not while his pillow would smell of the shampoo that Schuldig used. The stirring in his stomach soon became apprehension. He knew what Schuldig laying on his bed meant, and inwardly cursed the telepath for doing this to him.

" Mien Gott you think a lot" Schuldig muttered from inside the room, rubbing his temples as he sat up on the bed.

Crawford ignored Schuldig and the telepath's strange habit of mixing German words with English words. It was a habit that he was beginning to find annoying. Which meant the telepath was probably doing it to piss him off.

" Not everything I do is because of you, Herr Crawford" Schuldig said with a smirk on his face.

Crawford wanted to slap that smirk off his face. There were also several other things he wanted to do, but knew that it would not be appropriate. His superiors at Este would not find it appropriate either.

Do you always do as you're told, dog of Este?

It was so hard to take his eyes off the curve of Schuldig's neck, the pale flesh there screaming to be bitten and sucked. Crawford knew that Schuldig knew the effect his posture was having on him. How could the telepath not know?

Forcing himself to look away, Crawford came in from the balcony. He could feel Schuldig's eyes on him as he crossed the room, seating himself on Schuldig's bed. The bed smelled just as he thought it would. It smelled of Schuldig.

" You are a weird American" Schuldig said, looking at Crawford with a mix of disgust and interest.

Crawford said nothing, rolling over onto his side to stare at the wall. If he concentrated on the wall, then maybe he could ignore the temptation that was sitting on the other bed just a few feet away from him. This is a test... If I fail this, I will not reach my goals, Crawford told himself as he stared at the wall. He was one of the chosen; he was supposed to be above all temptations, including those of the flesh.

xxx

Today was a gloomy day.

Schuldig stared out the tiny airplane window, cringing slightly at each flash of lightening. He was glad that the insane one was sitting beside him, too drugged up to notice. Ever since his days in that camp Schuldig had always had a fear of lightening. Lightening served as a painful reminder of the shock treatments he been forced to endure, images of doctors with sadistic grins flashing in his mind like images on a screen.

A loud boom of thunder rattled the tin can they called an airplane. Schuldig was not really concerned about crashing; the American would have never taken the flight if one of his precious visions had showed that would happen. And Schuldig knew that Crawford had checked because he'd found the man hunched over the sink, wincing and complaining about headaches. Crawford only got headaches when he forced a vision.

The insane one was murmuring something about lambs. Schuldig was actually beginning to regret taking a seat next to the white-haired teen. At least he could have had some fun with Crawford. There was nothing more enjoyable than annoying the man, especially since the American had some kind of personal commitment about keeping him constantly at arm's length.

Turning partially in his seat, Schuldig looked back at Crawford. The man looked uncomfortable, sitting between two very large (and loud) American's, who were not only drunk, but also obnoxiously drunk at that. They laughed loudly, crushing poor Crawford between them as they shared magazines of porn and pointed at the too short dressed of the flight attendants.

There were other people on the plane, but none were as interesting as these two. Despite their large frames and stupid looking faces, the two men were TWO of the most interesting men that Schuldig had ever had the pleasure of mentally meeting. The one on the left was a child rapist, a very brutal one at that. At the same time he was slapping hands with his friend, he was imagining raping the little girl who sat in the row of seats across from him. She was a pretty little girl, just barely five years old, hair done up in pigtails with large pink barrettes. Schuldig did not spend too much time looking at her, seeing as how her thoughts consisted of teddy bears and some stupid cartoon.

The man sitting on the right side of Crawford was an adulterer and was filled with thoughts of killing his wife and two small children. The man locked eyes with him and waved, leaving Schuldig feeling repulsed as the man began to image how he would look in bed. The thought was shocking enough to make him turn around in his seat, trying to get the image of that fat bastard naked out of his mind.

" That's what ye' get for peeking into other people's mind" the Irish teen said, a grin on his scarred face.

Schuldig shot the teen a dark look, crossing his eyes as he sank into his seat. Now the bastard was fantasizing about him, and each dirty little image was searing itself into his mind, until he felt the only thing he wanted to do was vomit. Feeling ill, he rose from his seat, moving as far away from the man's seat as possible as he walked down the narrow aisle to the bathroom.

It was just his luck that it was occupied.

Author's Note: This was supposed to have been just a short little drabble. Guess my Brad/Schu muse demanded more.