Crossed Threads

Okay, here's the next chapter. I still do not own any of the characters, although they would make very wonderful Christmas gifts (hint hint, rightful owners!!) Enjoy, and please let me know what you think. It might help me write faster...
~*~ Maia

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tori decided not to tell the others where she was going that night. She finally got her chance to sneak away at about nine o'clock. Aya was in his room reading, Ken had gone to play a game of soccer at the park, Omi had tagged along to watch, and Yohji had passed out in front of the TV after dinner.

She stood in front of the full length mirror she had hung on the back of her door. Her new clothes looked great. Her shirt was a black satin bodice, laced tightly up the front, paired with a black miniskirt. She wore her black knee-high boots, and tied her hair back loosely with a black satin ribbon. She smeared smoky eye-shadow around her eyes, making them seem even greener than they were, and the only color she put on was her blood red lipstick. She looked like every gothic boy's fantasy. She topped off the look with a slightly shimmering body lotion, and after dropping her gun into her purse, she was ready to go.

She crept downstairs very quietly, quickly left a note explaining only that she was going "out", and bolted out the door before anyone could discover her. Tonight was going to be all about her, and she definitely didn't want big-brother Yohji following her around all night.

She found the club with no problem, and the bouncer simply took one look at her and let her in with a smile. Mind you, he was smiling to her chest rather than her face, but she was in, so who cared?

The pseudo-techno music pounded in her head, and she was sure that the bass was pounding to the rhythm of her heart. For a moment, she was so caught up in the music that she forgot that she was supposed to be looking for someone.

She slinked her way through the crush of bodies to the bar, figuring that the red-head she was meeting -- Schuldig, was it? -- would either be there waiting for her, or else she could have a drink while she watched for him. She didn't see him there, so she ordered a cocktail and found an empty seat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As luck would have it, it was Schuldig's night to baby-sit Farfarello; or rather, Brad had "foreseen" something urgent he had to attend to, and left the Irishman in the German's care. Nagi was out at the library still, and even Schuldig knew better than to leave his psycho-fucked team-mate in the house by himself. So that left only one option in Schuldig's mind:

Take Farfie with him.

Of course, the German wasn't completely irresponsible. He'd made sure that Farfarello had taken his meds beforehand, and he brought along a handful of extras, just in case. The last thing he wanted was a bloodthirsty lunatic in a room packed with people.

At least, he didn't want that tonight. He was really interested in that girl he'd met at the mall earlier, and not only because her brother was one of those meddling kittens from Weiss. He'd already picked her brain for all the information he needed about that, though. Tonight was simply for pleasure.

"Hey, Farfie, let's go!" he called up the stairs, growing impatient. He'd already wasted enough time getting himself ready, now he had to wait for the punk kid who only owned three pairs of pants! 'Mein Gott!' he cursed to himself, 'How long can he take to decide?'

Schuldig was just getting ready to go up there and drag the Irishman out, when Farfarello came sauntering down the stairs. He brushed past the red-head and headed for the door to the garage. "Schuldig," he called over his shoulder, "You're going to be late if you don't hurry. Let's go!" He was greatly amused by the angry sputtering noises coming from behind him.

Cursing fluently in multiple languages, the German snatched his keys from the table and stalked out to his car after his colleague.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon arriving at the club, Farfarello had immediately voiced his preference for sitting at the bar, which suited Schuldig just fine. At least he would know where the man was. He quickly scanned the crowd, and saw Tori sitting at a small table on the other side of the bar. She was just finishing her second drink as he walked up to her.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," he said, suddenly beside her.

Tori jumped. She hadn't even seen him approaching her, which unnerved her slightly. Maybe she should lay off the "Killer Kocktails". She smiled up at him and motioned to the empty seat across from her.

She took in the sight of him, that giddy feeling from earlier returning to her. He was wearing a loose, button-up silk blouse that was left open just enough to be enticing. It was a bright blue; a nice contrast to his flaming hair. His legs, which she could see were stretched out as he reclined in his chair, were clad in a pair of wonderfully tight black denim pants. His hair was still tied up in a bandana, though this one matched the blue of his shirt, and his sunglasses still perched on top. All in all, he looked…

"Stunning,"

Tori shook her head, coming back to reality. "Huh? What did you say?"

He smiled at her. "I said, you look stunning."

She blushed. "Oh. Thanks. You…look very nice," she finished lamely. She looked down at the empty glasses in front of her. "Do you want a drink?" she asked.

"I'd love one," he replied, admiring his view as she walked to the bar. He loved a woman who took charge; she wasn't one of those simpering ninnies who waited for her man to pull out her chair or buy her drinks. Of course, given her line of work, she couldn't afford to be. He sighed, regretting her choice in employers.

"So," he said with a charming grin as she sat down again, "Why don't we get to know each other?" With a conscious effort, he turned off his telepathy -- or at least, he deliberately tried not to read her mind -- and for the first time in a long while, Schuldig was able to enjoy a real conversation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Farfarello watched the couple from across the bar. Schuldig really had outdone himself on this one -- his date was a definite step up from his usual parade of burn-outs and whores. This girl, even the Irishman had to admit was fairly attractive. He, too, found the girl familiar, though it wasn't her brother that he was thinking of. He knew her, from somewhere…he just couldn't remember where. Even when she had unknowingly brushed past him to grab her drinks, he couldn't place her.

He normally found Schuldig's mating antics somewhat amusing, but tonight was different. They just sat there talking, until eventually Farfarello thought he would die of boredom. He reached into one of the many pockets of his oversized cargo pants, and absently ran the ball of his thumb across the edge of his knife. The German had told him not to bring it, but since when did Farfarello listen to him, anyway?

He closed his single, golden eye and let his mind wander to more amusing subjects. Knives, blood…knives covered in blood, killing, God crying…a little boy crying, and a little girl…

His eye snapped open in shock. He looked again at the young woman sitting across from Schuldig, this time more closely. There was no mistake. It was her. Farfarello slowly rose from his seat, dropped a few bills on the counter, and walked away without drawing any attention to himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a few more drinks, the conversation eventually wore out. Tori was finding it increasingly difficult to answer Schuldig's questions about her life without slipping up and blurting out something about Wiess or Kritiker. She put down her half-finished glass, mentally scolding herself not to drink anymore.

Schuldig was apparently thinking much the same, because he very suddenly leapt to his feet, pulling her up and over to the dance floor. She naturally settled into the beat, her body swaying hypnotically back and forth to the techno music.

Schuldig pressed in close behind her, enjoying the way her butt rubbed against his groin every few seconds. He had seen her brother -- Yohji, his name was -- dancing in a club once. The man had practically oozed sexual energy, but in a loud sort of 'fuck me now!' kind of way. There was more of an appealing innocence about the way Tori moved that was just driving him crazy.

He reached down and grabbed her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. He lifted her arm up and looped it around the back of his neck, forcing her to lean back further into him. Slowly, he let his hand trail back down her arm, brushing gently down her side and around to her stomach.

She started grinding against him a little bit harder, closing her eyes and leaning her head back onto his chest. Her free hand, the one that was not currently burying itself in long red hair, moved to lightly squeeze and rub at Schuldig's thigh. He realized that despite her outward show of innocence, she really knew what she was doing. He purred softly, nuzzling into her neck. Slowly, she turned herself around to drape both her arms around his shoulders, still grinding her hips against him.

Schuldig got the strange impression that all the other people at the club had gone away; he couldn't hear their voices in his head anymore, and all he could see was a pair of blood-red lips -- lips that were soon pressed forcefully against his own. He parted his lips, allowing her tongue to explore his mouth freely before he began pushing back to explore hers. She tasted sweet, like the drinks she'd had earlier.

He tried to pull away for a moment, hoping to get a breath of air, but she had a fistful of his hair, forcing him to remain locked with her. She held him a moment longer, until she too was gasping for air. She broke the kiss, softly sucking on his bottom lip as she pulled away. Gott, he liked this girl!

He glanced around, still trying to suck air into his burning lungs. He was slightly annoyed to find that the other clubbers were still there, and the familiar drone of voices in his head had returned. He sighed softly to himself, and then looked down at the young woman in his arms. She was smiling up at him sweetly, but there was an unmistakeable gleam in her eyes.

"So," he whispered, leaning into her ear, "You want to go somewhere else?" The grin she flashed him sent a pleased tingle down his spine. "Okay," he said, dragging her by the wrist off the dance floor, "I'm just gonna go let my friend know. He's sitting at the…bar…"

Schuldig stopped in his tracks.

Farfarello's barstool was empty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Schuldig looked around in a panic. This was the last thing he needed, he thought. He could just imagine the shit that Crawford would give him for losing Farfarello. He called out to the younger man telepathically, but he got no answer. Either the Irishman was too far away to hear him, or he was ignoring him. Neither option sounded good to Schuldig.

He almost jumped as he felt a touch on his arm. He'd almost forgotten about the girl. "Listen," she said, a wistful smile on her face, "You go find your friend. I probably should be getting home anyways,"

He leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. "Thanks, Liebe, you're a doll!" He turned away to try to make his way through the crowd to the door, but she caught him by the wrist.

"Aren't you going to ask for my number?" she asked, figuring that he was just going to disappear.

"I'll find you," he promised, pulling his hand back and melting into the crowd.

She wished that that could be the case, but she knew that with her job, she couldn't even guarantee she'd be in the country the day after tomorrow. Sighing to herself, she made her way over to the bar and ordered herself a drink, taking a seat on the stool that Farfarello had left empty. She'd never see the German again, she knew, but it would've been nice to think he would have wanted to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bolting for his car, Schuldig was ecstatic to see the pale Irish boy leaning on the hood, enjoying a cigarette he'd gotten from God-knows-where. Schuldig was so glad to see him, in fact, that he didn't bother reminding him that he wasn't allowed to smoke.

"Where the HELL have you been?!" Schuldig launched into him, "I take you out with me and this is how I get repaid? Next time, I'll leave you to rot in your cell, you ungrateful--"

"I want to go home." Farfarello's quiet request took the German completely by surprise. The pale features revealed no hint of what was going on inside his mind, but Schuldig had the feeling that something was out of balance. More so than usual.

"Good idea, kid," He started the car without another word and they peeled off down the street.

One final mental probe let him know that Tori was quite disappointed he'd left the way he had. Oh well, the night wasn't a total loss, and with any luck, he'd bag her next time. After all, he knew where she was.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was just after one when Tori got home, a fairly early night in her mind all things considered. She turned the key quietly in the lock, not wanting to wake anyone. Removing her boots, she slipped through the door.

She had made it to the first stair before she realized she was busted.

"Where have you been?" Yohji's voice was quiet, but she could hear the trace of menace in his tone. She stopped and turned to where he sat in the kitchen, one hand resting on a bottle of beer and looking for all the world like their father.

"I left a note saying I was going out," she responded coolly, not willing to let him bully her.

"Without permission? And dressed like that?"

"Dammit, Yohji, I'm an adult now!" she hissed, growing tired of his control-freak attitude, "You need to understand that! Anyone else here can come and go as they please. I should be no different."

"But you are different," Yohji rose to his feet, his fists clenched as he strained to keep his voice low and level, "Maybe that's the problem. No matter how old you get, you'll still be my baby sister. Who knows…" He paused, not sure if he should say it. "Maybe you shouldn't stay with Weiss." He turned away from her, a lump in his throat.

Within seconds her arms were squeezed around his waist. "Don't say that," she whispered into his shoulder, finally seeing what this was all about, "I'm not leaving now. Besides, do you think I won't worry when you go off on assignments? I mean, just look at the other night, when the building collapsed. I didn't know if you were still in there or not. The only difference is, I have faith in you, your abilities, and in the fact that you're gonna make it out ok. Can you just put a little more faith in me?"

Yohji's shoulders sagged. "I'll try," he conceded.

She squeezed him once more, then spun him around and pushed him down into a chair. "So," she said, perching herself on the edge of the table and smirking down at him, "Aren't you going to ask me how my night went?"

Rolling his eyes with a half-hearted chuckle, he nodded. "You met a guy."

"Mm-hmm," she replied, glad to see him calming down a bit, "And he was very nice. A perfect gentleman." Well, not all true, but there was no sense in getting him all riled up again, was there?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Please, please, please review! I'd love to know what you think!