Tea and Sympathy

/"...."/ flashback
<"...."> mental communication

I squirm in my seat, restless and and anxious. 'Taku! What's taking him so long?? I want
this to be over with, but I wish I didn't have to be here to begin with. I've been sitting here
for 20 minutes now, bored as hell and needing my nicotine fix. Yawning, I close my eyes
as a bout of nostaglia overtakes me. Back to when this all started...

/~'Che! Is that all he does is work??~ I'm peeking into his room, and he's been sitting at
that damn computer for 6 hours. I'd heard he was a workaholic, but this is insane! An
image of a well-dressed skeleton sitting at that desk flashes through my mind, and I
attempt to stifle my laugher. To no avail, because now he's walking towards the door.
SHIST!! Need a lie, play it off, need a lie, need a--
"What do you want Schuldig??" The irritation in his voice only confirms my suspicions
of how anal-retentive he is, but I plan on getting past his asshole attitue. Well, I guess
anyone would be after typing for 6 hours non-stop, but this IS Brad Crawford...
"Wee-ll.." I begin, "couldn't help notice how hard you've been working. You deserve a
break. How's about I help you relax, eh?" Slouching against the doorframe, I flash him a
rather lascivious grin and wink. He slams the door in my face. Strike one, but this game's
far from over, Bradley...

After six weeks of "Don't bother me Schuldig!" "I'm working Schuldig!" and "Go find
someone else to screw with Schuldig!", I finally got a break. I caught Brad on a day
where he wasn't working (which was a complete shock to me). I'd come back from a
short mission with Fafarello, and I was rather piqued when we'd returned. Hearing that
pyscho ramble endlessly about wanting to hurt God had REALLY given me a headache. I
was heading up to my room, ready to OD on aspirin, when I heard music drifting from
the den. Curious, I walked in the room, when my eyes beheld a sight I NEVER thought
possible; Brad was sitting on the large sofa, dressed in black jeans and a short-sleeved
white polo, drawing in a book and humming along with Für Elise as it resonated softly
from the stereo. I probably stood there for at least 5 minutes, staring at him wide-eyed
and mouth gaped open. He took notice of this once he saw me standing there, and the
tiniest trace of a half-smile graced his lips.

~Wait, did he just SMILE??! At ME??! Schu, I think you've just stepped into the Twilight
Zone...but he looks kinda nice when he smiles, considering that WAS a smile to begin
with...~

"Are you going to stand there forever, are you going to come in?"

~No way!! He just INVITED me into the room??!! Well, not gonna pass this up golden
opportunity.~
I plop down on the sofa next to him, pulling a manilla folder out of my green blazer.
"Here's the info on Morikawa. This should be more than enough to make him 'reconsider'
his decision."
He takes the folder and flips through it, but not in his usual stiffness. Giving me an
affirmative nod, he places the folder on the coffee table near the sofa. 
"So, how did it go?"
I groan in response. "What is Farf's deal??!! Day in and day out, the same thing! 'Hurt
God' this, 'Hurt God that'... had to keep him from jumping 2 children on the way there!" 
"Now you know what it's like to work." He almost smiled again. 
"Eh? Are you saying that I don't work?" I say with feigned hurt, putting a hand to my
forehead. "Sorry, Mr. Leader, but not all of us here wish to be accustomed to 39-hour
days like you." 
I nearly jump out of my seat when I heard him laughing. Not his usual cold smirks, but a
genuine, heartly laugh. 
~Brad is laughing. THIS is gonna take some getting used to...I knew there was more to
Bradley Crawford than that tight-assed leader act he's been feeding us...~
I spot his discarded sketchbook, and grab it before he has a chance to protest.
"You drew these?" I asked casually, flipping through the various sketches. There are
sketches of a waterfall, the Tokyo skyline at night, and a few pics of himself, without
glasses.
"For a cold-blooded bastard, you have talent." I remark, smiling at the pout on his face. 
"Thank you, Schu. I haven't relaxed like this in ages! And, I was wrong about you..."

~Eh? Why is he thanking me? WAIT A MINUTE!!! DID HE JUST CALL ME SCH--~

His mouth covers mine before I had a chance to finish rambling to myself./

Ever since that day, it all went downhill from there. He acted like that day never
happened, returning to his cold, calculating persona, and he never told me why. I don't
know whether to be pissed off or heartbroken.

This is NOT my day. I'm sitting in some run-down little non-smoking cafe, desperately
needing a cigarette. The door's small chime rings, which I don't notice as Crawford
enters. Once I come out of my nostalgia, I look up and see him with a rather annoyed
look on his face as he takes a seat across from me. His eyes are cold and alert. 
"You're late." I state, flashing him a sly grin as I attempt to will my heart to stop trying to
leap out of my chest.
"I was working. Something you should try one day, Schuldig." The ice in his tone doesn't
surprise me. Not anymore. No apologies, not from the cold-blooded leader of Schwartz.
Mercy is for the weak, after all.
I merely smirk. Oh, this is starting out just lovely. I want to bang my head against the
table, but I flag the waitress down instead. In a moment she is looming over us, grinning. 
"What will you have?" Her bubbly voice inquires. We both glance over the menu, as I
force myself not to peek at him from behind the menu like some giggling schoolgirl. I
wasn't really hungry, but my throat was getting drier by the minute once I remember why
I was here. 
"I'll have an orange spice tea." I hand her back the menu, then stare at the table.
"Apple cider." 
Hearing Brad's bevrage choice, my head pops up, and I quirk an eyebrow at him. Apple
cider just doesn't seem very Brad-ish to me; he seems more like the black coffee type,
workaholic that he is. I smile at the thought of him hunched over his computer with an IV
in his arm feeding him coffee.
"What's so funny?"
"Eh? Betsuni." I let the heartfelt smile fade from my features and replace it with my usual
condescending grin, noting the slight confusion in his eyes. We--well, I sit in akward
silence for a few minutes, until the waitress comes with our drinks. 
"Here you go! Please let me know if you'd like anything else!" 
We both nod silently, and she disappears back into the semi-crowded shop once more.
Still silent, he picks up the small cup and drinks slowly. His eyes are closed, which is a
damn good thing, seeing that I'm enjoying a LOT of eye candy at the moment. I wish I
could just take him into my arms and...

You just don't when to quit, do you?

He's looking at you...

SHUT U--NANI?? 

My head jerks up and sure enough, those deep blue eyes are set on me with the most
adorable look of confusion. Well, any look Brad gives is adorable, seeing that he's buried
in his work 97% of the time. I'm gushing. Someone shoot me now... 

"Is something wrong, Schuldig?" 
"Iya." Before I have another chance to put my foot in my mouth, I grab my tea and take a
long drink. It's mellow and sweet, but all I can taste is bitterness. Hoping he doesn't
notice my slightly shaky hands, I set the cup down and clear my throat.
"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come here, ne?"
"Not really."
Figures. Nothing fazes Mr. Tight-assed-work-til-I'm-dead-leader-of-Schwartz. I could've
been wearing a dress and he wouldn't give a damn. Now THAT would make an
interesting fantasy--AAAAAUGHHH!! I finish the rest of the spiced tea in one gulp,
slamming the cup rather loudly back down on the table and wincing slightly as the liquid
scalds my throat. 

I muse into his mind. He just narrows his eyes and glares before taking another sip of his
cider. I flag our waitress down once more, and she quickly refills my cup before returning
to the bustling crowds. We sit in silence as we both slowly drink, but the waiting is
getting the best of me. Tea won't soothe my nerves now. 

I scream into his mind. He quirks an eyebrow at me, and this time my golden eyes are the
ones to narrow dangerously. 

He cuts me off, coldness and warning in his voice.
I mock. 
My voice sounds weak and shaky, and tears are threatening to spill. My head jerks up and
I blink at him as I sense one of his thoughts he let slip. He's afraid. Afraid?? Crawford,
the great assassin and leader of Schwartz, afraid?? Either he's trying to confuse me, or
he's had a vision and not telling what. In the past, it's always been the latter.

"You know something, don't you??"

"Tell me something, Schu. Who will you depend on?"

Taken aback by his odd subject change, I run a hand idly through my messy green hair.
"Why do you ask, Brad?" I smile as his eyes narrow at my use of his first name. Ever
since that day, he's insisted that we call him Crawford, but I still call him Brad, just to get
under his skin. Guess some enjoyment can come out of this after all. 
"Just answer the question, Schuldig." I roll my eyes at the authoritative and impatient
tone in his voice.
"I'd like to depend on you, but guess I'll just have to depend on me." I reply, gazing
intenly into his eyes once I answer, and slightly confused when he quickly shifts his gaze
to the window. 

Noting the silence once more, I pick up my cup, about to take another sip of tea when I
see a disturbing image in my mind. A shadowy figure in the distance is holding a gun. A
shot rings out, and a body crumples to the ground. 

I don't need to ask who's been shot and who's holding the gun.

Gasping, I drop the cup, not noticing the resounding noise of the glass smashing into
pieces as it hits the floor. Some tea has spilled onto my white pants, and the waitress is
back at our table in a flash, smiling as she cleans up the mess, offers me a towel, and
gives me another cup of tea.

I speak to his mind, knowing our conversation is now 'classified'. He shifts his gaze back
to mine, except now some of the previous coldness is his eyes has vanished. He looks
almost...hurt..? 

For a moment, I thought I saw--no, felt Brad cringe at my last statement. 


My voice is pleading now, and tears are already streaming down my face, and falling into
my tea. People at a few nearby tables are watching us and whispering amongst
themselves now, but I don't care. I just want to know the truth. 

He shakes his head and stands to leave. I lower my face, verdant hair hiding the pain that
betrays my smiles. I hear him stand, and look at him with startled, tear-stained eyes as he
gently lifts my chin and plants a light kiss on my lips before walking out of the cafe. 


"I'll depend on me..." I repeat once more, finishing off the rest of Brad's cider. I smile
bitterly and savour his taste on my lips as I pick up my cup with shaky hands, lingering
over my cup of tea and sympathy.

*~OWARI~*