Title: Sugar, Snakes, and Spice
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Nagi/Tot
Prompt: Unrequited Pining
Rating: PG
Word Count: 549
Summary: Nagi may be one of the greatest minds of his generation, but one great mystery still defies his understanding. Girls.
A/N: Written for
hc_bingo. Masterpost with my game card is
here.
Nagi could calculate pi to a hundred decimal places in his head. He could hack into anything worth hacking into and in less time than most people could login legally. He’d been thoroughly trained in a plethora of different methods and tools of spycraft and espionage. He could kill people with his mind.
But he couldn’t understand girls.
Or one girl, really. Specifically, he couldn’t understand Tot. Everything about her should be hateful to him. Her voice, her language, her manner of dress. It all screamed prey instead of predator. He had no problem loathing other human females of any age, even those his growing adolescent body decided to lust after. Especially those his growing adolescent body decided to lust after. And yet.
At the first sign of the problem, he’d tried to ask Crawford about it, but he’d only gotten a vague look and an equally vague response about not endangering their mission. That had been more offensive than helpful. As if he would.
He’d started to ask Schuldig, but the telepath laughed himself into a stupor before he could get two words out, and Nagi had been forced to break every pair of ugly sunglasses he owned to get him to stop. He’d been about to start on Schuldig’s ridiculous collection of bandanas, too, when Schuldig threatened to make him walk naked to the police station, and Nagi had decided to consider it a draw.
He didn’t bother asking Farfarello. No one asked Farfarello anything that didn’t involve gutting people, and while this did sort of involve gutting people, or the lack of desire thereof, it still wasn’t in the berserker’s area of expertise. He’d probably misunderstand, anyway, and offer to kill her for Nagi as a birthday present, anyway.
Which left him alone to contemplate the problem himself.
He attempted a formula, where x was the distance between them at any given point in time, and D his desire to make her smile for absolutely no reason he could understand, and y was supposed to give him some sort of answers, but nothing worked. He suspected it involved imaginary numbers or perhaps heretofore undiscovered mathematical principles. Obviously, the problem was trickier than he’d anticipated.
He started to try to create a realistic computer simulation to recreate the events leading up to his dilemma, but scrapped the project when Schuldig leaned over the back of his chair to ask him when he’d taken up hentai games. The rest of his team knew nothing of scientific method. Heathens.
A quick trip to the park to tear the heads off of children’s dolls did make him feel somewhat better, so he obviously hadn’t completely lost his touch. However, while it assuaged the immediate worry, it unfortunately did nothing to solve the problem at hand.
Second-hand interviews had proved fruitless, and all his hypothetical simulations had come to naught. Obviously, field work would be needed in this case. As one of the world’s premier telekinetics, it would be fair to state that he was less than a fan of getting his hands dirty, but in this case, he would make an exception. In a purely metaphorical manner, of course.
A cloud of wildflowers plucked themselves in his wake, the blooms gathering themselves into his hands as he left the park.
This entry was originally posted at
http://envious-muses.dreamwidth.org/17556.html.