(no subject)
Ficlet: The treat
Author: Seraphim Grace
Series: Weiss Kreuz - wee!Nagi series
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Notes: I have to mother Nagi, I’m just hardwired that way.
Herr Strickmann was a short balding man, covered with sweat in a tweed suit and eyeglasses so thick that they seemed to have been made out of the bottoms of coke bottles. In one of the cartoons Schuldig watched there was a cartoon where the sidekick had entered a Penfold look alike competition and came third, Herr Strickmann had come in first. He also made Crawford feel unclean, like he had to wash the stink of the man away. He was Nagi’s prime tutor in telekinesis and he had a lingering sort of gaze, possibly it was hard to tell through his glasses, that Crawford seriously didn’t like.
Nagi sat in the carpeted bit of the floor playing with a doll, using his power to make Sally Ann dance; Crawford was impressed, as she appeared to be doing the mashed potato to the music in his head.
“I understand that you are young Naoe’s guardian,” Herr Strickmann said his eyes lingering on Nagi, and then moving to Crawford, looking him up and down, and then back to Nagi. “He is an exemplary student,” he continued, “a real credit to Rosenkreuz.” Nagi was making the doll do the mashed potato and Crawford wondered which of the other two in his care had taught this to Nagi, it didn’t strike him as being something Farfarello would know, but sometimes he surprised you. Herr Strickmann leered very visibly at Nagi, “such a good student deserves a treat.” He lingered on that word enough that Crawford wished that he was a telepath to obliterate this horrid tutor’s mind with a thought. He might get Schuldig to do that later. “If you understand my meaning.”
“I understand completely, Herr Strickmann.” Crawford said.
The ice cream parlour was slightly out of the way home run by a dispossessed Italian man with a huge moustache and a genuine smile for everyone who came in. Crawford led Nagi in by the hand. Given the opportunity Schuldig spent all of his money, that wasn’t used on cigarettes, here, so they knew Crawford well. Nagi was still very young so Crawford tended to take him to the German baker’s on the corner for slices of strudel and apfelsaft.
“Junge Herr Brad,” the owner said with a smile, “is this your mysterious little brother, young Christian has told me all about him, and his little Cat pyjamas.” Crawford reached down and lifted Nagi onto his hip. He didn’t do that very often. “do you go to that private school too?”
Nagi had gone shy, because he was doing his best to hide behind his duffel coat from the imposing man and didn’t want to answer.
“Now, bambino, what flavour would you like?”
Nagi buried his face in Crawford’s neck. “He doesn’t know, but he’s doing so well in school his teacher thought he deserved a treat”
The owner of the shop beamed and opened up the sneeze guards, “I know,” he said, “how about a little bit of each of them so you can find out what you like, and you can try the sprinkles and the syrups.”
Nagi murmured something. Crawford put him down, “now give me your coat,” he said unbuttoning his duffel and sliding it back to reveal his sailor suit uniform, “and I’ll be right here, okay.”
“And for you, Junge Herr Brad?”
Crawford looked over the glass, “a scoop of pistachio and a scoop of walnut with whipped cream.”
A glass appeared with the two scoops and then the owner pulled out a small plastic spoon and offered his hand to Nagi.
Crawford wasn’t surprised when Schuldig walked in, Farfarello loping behind him, arms and legs sticking out of a sailor suit he was quickly outgrowing, and most parts of exposed skin covered in band aids. “Crawford?” Schuldig asked, he looked around and saw Nagi with a plastic spoon testing the ice cream one by one, looking tiny and very nervous, and the sundae glasses rattling but it settled when he saw the other two come in. “What are you doing here?”
“Nagi’s doing so well in school,” Crawford said, “that he should have a treat.” Schuldig made an Oh shape with his mouth. “So I’m buying him all the ice-cream he wants to eat.”
Author: Seraphim Grace
Series: Weiss Kreuz - wee!Nagi series
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Notes: I have to mother Nagi, I’m just hardwired that way.
Herr Strickmann was a short balding man, covered with sweat in a tweed suit and eyeglasses so thick that they seemed to have been made out of the bottoms of coke bottles. In one of the cartoons Schuldig watched there was a cartoon where the sidekick had entered a Penfold look alike competition and came third, Herr Strickmann had come in first. He also made Crawford feel unclean, like he had to wash the stink of the man away. He was Nagi’s prime tutor in telekinesis and he had a lingering sort of gaze, possibly it was hard to tell through his glasses, that Crawford seriously didn’t like.
Nagi sat in the carpeted bit of the floor playing with a doll, using his power to make Sally Ann dance; Crawford was impressed, as she appeared to be doing the mashed potato to the music in his head.
“I understand that you are young Naoe’s guardian,” Herr Strickmann said his eyes lingering on Nagi, and then moving to Crawford, looking him up and down, and then back to Nagi. “He is an exemplary student,” he continued, “a real credit to Rosenkreuz.” Nagi was making the doll do the mashed potato and Crawford wondered which of the other two in his care had taught this to Nagi, it didn’t strike him as being something Farfarello would know, but sometimes he surprised you. Herr Strickmann leered very visibly at Nagi, “such a good student deserves a treat.” He lingered on that word enough that Crawford wished that he was a telepath to obliterate this horrid tutor’s mind with a thought. He might get Schuldig to do that later. “If you understand my meaning.”
“I understand completely, Herr Strickmann.” Crawford said.
The ice cream parlour was slightly out of the way home run by a dispossessed Italian man with a huge moustache and a genuine smile for everyone who came in. Crawford led Nagi in by the hand. Given the opportunity Schuldig spent all of his money, that wasn’t used on cigarettes, here, so they knew Crawford well. Nagi was still very young so Crawford tended to take him to the German baker’s on the corner for slices of strudel and apfelsaft.
“Junge Herr Brad,” the owner said with a smile, “is this your mysterious little brother, young Christian has told me all about him, and his little Cat pyjamas.” Crawford reached down and lifted Nagi onto his hip. He didn’t do that very often. “do you go to that private school too?”
Nagi had gone shy, because he was doing his best to hide behind his duffel coat from the imposing man and didn’t want to answer.
“Now, bambino, what flavour would you like?”
Nagi buried his face in Crawford’s neck. “He doesn’t know, but he’s doing so well in school his teacher thought he deserved a treat”
The owner of the shop beamed and opened up the sneeze guards, “I know,” he said, “how about a little bit of each of them so you can find out what you like, and you can try the sprinkles and the syrups.”
Nagi murmured something. Crawford put him down, “now give me your coat,” he said unbuttoning his duffel and sliding it back to reveal his sailor suit uniform, “and I’ll be right here, okay.”
“And for you, Junge Herr Brad?”
Crawford looked over the glass, “a scoop of pistachio and a scoop of walnut with whipped cream.”
A glass appeared with the two scoops and then the owner pulled out a small plastic spoon and offered his hand to Nagi.
Crawford wasn’t surprised when Schuldig walked in, Farfarello loping behind him, arms and legs sticking out of a sailor suit he was quickly outgrowing, and most parts of exposed skin covered in band aids. “Crawford?” Schuldig asked, he looked around and saw Nagi with a plastic spoon testing the ice cream one by one, looking tiny and very nervous, and the sundae glasses rattling but it settled when he saw the other two come in. “What are you doing here?”
“Nagi’s doing so well in school,” Crawford said, “that he should have a treat.” Schuldig made an Oh shape with his mouth. “So I’m buying him all the ice-cream he wants to eat.”