misura
in
springkink
Space Crusaders [Weiss Kreuz, Schuldich/Yohji, PG-13]
Title: Space Crusaders
Author: misura
Rating: PG-13 for alien babes
Warnings: space!AU which is not at all influenced by my having seen StarTrek *cough*
Summary: It's not easy being captain of te starship Black Cross.
A/N: I had far too much fun with this.
On most days, Captain Crawford truly hated his job. There were plenty of positions in the Fleet where you could sit behind a desk all day and never get any closer to aliens than reading a report about them. He'd dreamt of a job like that - behind desks, after all, was where decisions were made. He'd have had true power there, and plenty of opportunities to secure influential allies for the time when he'd be vying for the position of Supreme Commander, which he'd ascend to on the age of thirty, a full ten years younger than anyone before him.
Six months ago, his path had seemed so clear. And then someone somewhere had pulled a few strings to have him moved to active duty and - worse yet - put him in command of The Black Cross and its crew of two. It's very special crew of two, as Captain Fujimiya (whose name was now on Crawford's list of people to demote as soon as he was in a position to do so) had put it.
It hadn't taken Crawford long to figure out that 'very special' meant 'insane, irresponsible, and impossible to work with or use to get anything done'. Upon meeting Schuldich and Farfarello, Crawford's vision of returning to Headquarters a hero had crashed and burnt; by now, he'd consider himself lucky if he'd succeed in returning to HQ with his sanity still intact, which was looking less and less likely with every day that passed.
Perhaps, Crawford told himself, this alien they'd just run into might prove to possess valuable information that would justify Crawford taking him back to HQ. Once there, he was certain he might make arrangements for his reassignment - if not to a comfortable desk, then at least to a normal ship with a normal crew.
Initial contact had been promising; the alien clearly understood Standard English, and seemed not at all averse to coming over for a chat. Crawford had been pleased, right until the moment the alien had boarded The Black Cross and attempted to hug Crawford by way of saying 'hello'.
"We come in peace." Crawford couldn't not say that; it was Procedure. Nowadays, Procedure was all that remained standing between him and insanity.
The alien nodded happily. Probably, its own Procedure was to say 'We come to hug you', which was, Crawford presumed, better than 'We come to eat you', although not by much. Given a choice between being hugged by a clearly male alien and getting into a fight which he'd be bound to win, Crawford knew which he'd pick. Still, HQ probably wouldn't accept 'He tried to hug me' as an excuse for Crawford having shot an alien visitor.
"We come in peace and shoot to kill."
Crawford shot Schuldich an annoyed look, while Farfarello giggled.
"If you must speak in my head, can't you at least say something useful? Like what our guest's thinking?" Crawford hated it when Schuldich used his telepathy to talk to him; it gave him headaches, even though the medic at HQ kept asuring him that wasn't possible.
"Big newsflash, Brad. I can't read his mind. At all."
Crawford sighed. The alien looked slightly puzzled, but Crawford couldn't care less. It just figured that the one time he might actually have a use for Schuldich's 'very special'ness, the man would let him down.
"He seems very friendly." Schuldich tossed his hair back and smiled at the alien. "Hi there, cutie? Want to give me a hug, too? Don't mind Big Bad Captain Brad; he's all bark and no bite. No fun, either."
One moment, the alien had been slouching in his seat, annoying Crawford with its lazy, ill-disciplined attitude. The next, it was in Schuldich's lap, hugging him - if you could call it that.
"Whoa."
"Do you require assistance?" Crawford inquired, hand already on his weapon. True, the alien seemed friendly enough, but Crawford had learned a long time ago not to rely on first impressions. What looked like an overly friendly gesture might well be an attempt on the alien's side to sneak past Schuldich's defenses, perhaps get him to ingest something or infect him in some way.
"Well, if you're interested in a threesome ..." Schuldich sounded amused.
Farfarello made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room without so much as a nod in Crawford's direction. The alien started to remove Schuldich's shirt. Crawford stared.
"I'm fine," Schuldich told him. "Get out ... or join in. Your call."
Crawford left.
Author: misura
Rating: PG-13 for alien babes
Warnings: space!AU which is not at all influenced by my having seen StarTrek *cough*
Summary: It's not easy being captain of te starship Black Cross.
A/N: I had far too much fun with this.
On most days, Captain Crawford truly hated his job. There were plenty of positions in the Fleet where you could sit behind a desk all day and never get any closer to aliens than reading a report about them. He'd dreamt of a job like that - behind desks, after all, was where decisions were made. He'd have had true power there, and plenty of opportunities to secure influential allies for the time when he'd be vying for the position of Supreme Commander, which he'd ascend to on the age of thirty, a full ten years younger than anyone before him.
Six months ago, his path had seemed so clear. And then someone somewhere had pulled a few strings to have him moved to active duty and - worse yet - put him in command of The Black Cross and its crew of two. It's very special crew of two, as Captain Fujimiya (whose name was now on Crawford's list of people to demote as soon as he was in a position to do so) had put it.
It hadn't taken Crawford long to figure out that 'very special' meant 'insane, irresponsible, and impossible to work with or use to get anything done'. Upon meeting Schuldich and Farfarello, Crawford's vision of returning to Headquarters a hero had crashed and burnt; by now, he'd consider himself lucky if he'd succeed in returning to HQ with his sanity still intact, which was looking less and less likely with every day that passed.
Perhaps, Crawford told himself, this alien they'd just run into might prove to possess valuable information that would justify Crawford taking him back to HQ. Once there, he was certain he might make arrangements for his reassignment - if not to a comfortable desk, then at least to a normal ship with a normal crew.
Initial contact had been promising; the alien clearly understood Standard English, and seemed not at all averse to coming over for a chat. Crawford had been pleased, right until the moment the alien had boarded The Black Cross and attempted to hug Crawford by way of saying 'hello'.
"We come in peace." Crawford couldn't not say that; it was Procedure. Nowadays, Procedure was all that remained standing between him and insanity.
The alien nodded happily. Probably, its own Procedure was to say 'We come to hug you', which was, Crawford presumed, better than 'We come to eat you', although not by much. Given a choice between being hugged by a clearly male alien and getting into a fight which he'd be bound to win, Crawford knew which he'd pick. Still, HQ probably wouldn't accept 'He tried to hug me' as an excuse for Crawford having shot an alien visitor.
"We come in peace and shoot to kill."
Crawford shot Schuldich an annoyed look, while Farfarello giggled.
"If you must speak in my head, can't you at least say something useful? Like what our guest's thinking?" Crawford hated it when Schuldich used his telepathy to talk to him; it gave him headaches, even though the medic at HQ kept asuring him that wasn't possible.
"Big newsflash, Brad. I can't read his mind. At all."
Crawford sighed. The alien looked slightly puzzled, but Crawford couldn't care less. It just figured that the one time he might actually have a use for Schuldich's 'very special'ness, the man would let him down.
"He seems very friendly." Schuldich tossed his hair back and smiled at the alien. "Hi there, cutie? Want to give me a hug, too? Don't mind Big Bad Captain Brad; he's all bark and no bite. No fun, either."
One moment, the alien had been slouching in his seat, annoying Crawford with its lazy, ill-disciplined attitude. The next, it was in Schuldich's lap, hugging him - if you could call it that.
"Whoa."
"Do you require assistance?" Crawford inquired, hand already on his weapon. True, the alien seemed friendly enough, but Crawford had learned a long time ago not to rely on first impressions. What looked like an overly friendly gesture might well be an attempt on the alien's side to sneak past Schuldich's defenses, perhaps get him to ingest something or infect him in some way.
"Well, if you're interested in a threesome ..." Schuldich sounded amused.
Farfarello made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room without so much as a nod in Crawford's direction. The alien started to remove Schuldich's shirt. Crawford stared.
"I'm fine," Schuldich told him. "Get out ... or join in. Your call."
Crawford left.