Midorino Mizu
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, and other assorted people I canÕt recall. ŌBohemian Rhapsody,Ķ is the property of Queen, and IÕm sure, several companies that I canÕt recall.
The only
thing I own is the image of Schuldig singing in my head. I rather wish that I didnÕt own that.
Naoe Nagi was
excellent at what he did.
This meant, of
course, that he excelled at killing people and blowing things up, but it also
meant that his ability to keep a straight face was faultless.
He did allow
himself one small twitch, however, when Schuldig started doing his best Freddie
Mercury in his head.
"Mama...
just killed a maaan...put a gun against his head, killed him 'till he's
dead..."
It might not
have been quite so bad if the singing hadn't been accompanied by perfectly
timed gunfire.
Across the
room, Tsukiyono Omi gulped. "Ano...is there something wrong,
Prodigy?"
Nagi flicked
his gaze over at the blond boy, who was pinned to the wall using a few pieces
of strategically placed cable.
Absently, the
telekinetic wondered if he was developing a taste for bondage. His encounters
with Bombay invariably ended with the older boy hanging from the wall.
"Nothing
that concerns you, Bombay," he stated dryly as his fingers continued to
fly across the keyboard.
"I see
a little silhouetto of a man..."
Gamely he
ignored the German-accented English in his head, and sent a sardonic smile
Omi's way.
"I trust
you are comfortable, Bombay?"
Omi's summer
blue eyes darkened as he scowled. "Do you really need to ask? Why do you
do this to me every time?"
Nagi lifted a
shoulder in a slight shrug. "Well, if you wouldn't get in my way every
time, I wouldn't do this every time. Perhaps it's something you should discuss
with your superiors." He quickly ejected the CD from the drive and stood.
"Ja ne, Omi-kun. I'm sure one of your own teammates will be along shortly
to get you out of your predicament."
The last thing
he heard before the doors swung shut behind him was Tsukiyono Omi's heartfelt
but resigned groan.
***
When Nagi
stepped out of the building, it was to a sight that would have destroyed a
lesser human being.
Bradley
Crawford was leaning against his car, rubbing his temples intermittently.
Farfarello was
sitting on the hood, and for once, he was not licking the blade of an extremely sharp
knife.
Instead, he was
watching Schuldig, with a certain degree of sick fascination.
Schuldig, who
was playing air guitar in the street.
Naoe Nagi let
out a deep sigh, and shifted his gaze to Crawford. "I have the information
you said was needed, Crawford.
"So, we
can go, unless Schuldig is going to treat us to an encore performance?"
"No,"
said the precognitive decisively. "He is not." He rounded the hood
quickly, and settled himself into the driver's seat. "Nagi, ride up front
with me."
"Yes,
Crawford."
A few moments
later, the four were riding in relative silence towards their compound.
Schuldig had abandoned Queen, and was instead engaged in his usual past time of
stealing Farfarello's knives.
"Nagi,"
murmured Crawford softly.
"Hmm?"
asked the teenager in an equally quiet tone, keeping his eyes straight ahead,
so as to not draw the telepath's attention.
"Remind
me, the next time I have a vision involving Schuldig and classic rock music, to
burn his entire collection."
"Certainly,
Crawford."
~fin
Author's
Note: And remind me to not listen to Bohemian Rhapsody on loop ever again.
Ever. Again.