This fic is done per request of a friend, Brad-chan, cuz he luvs this couple and was listening to this song when he asked for it. ^_^ enjoy, Brad! ^.~

oh, yeah.. i haven't even seen past episode 7 in WK, so i'm reallly sorry if they're OOC... -_-;

Crawford glanced up from the computer screen, fingers going still over the keyboard. He waited for several moments before leaning back in his chair, the flexible back squeaking as he gazed towards the partially open door.
Nothing. Not a sound interrupted the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. He hesitated before leaning forward once more, continuing with his work. He had a sudden premonition, and spoke quietly. "I don't want to be interrupted."
There was the sound of a step in the doorway, then a little laugh. He glanced up as his red-headed partner strode over, grinning down cockily at him over the computer's monitor. "You're no fun," he teased.
"What did I just say?"
Schuldich made a "ch' " noise and walked around so he could lean against the desk. "Don't you even want to know what I was gonna say?"
Crawford's eyes stayed glued to the screen, fingers flying. "No." Click click click click click...
The German shrugged fluidly, turning his head to gaze at the wall behind Crawford, propped up on the desk edge by his elbows, long orange hair held in check with the usual yellow bandanna. "Fine."
"...." The other waited for him to leave, still busily typing away. When it became apparent nearly a minute later that the younger man didn't seem interested in leaving, Crawford stopped typing long enough to push up his glasses with a forefinger and glare at Schuldich through them. "I'm busy. I don't want to be bothered."
Schuldich smirked down at him, flicking his fingers against the desk in an unreadable gesture. "Maybe what I have to say is important."
"Get out, Schuldich."
"Fine," he said in a haughty voice, straightening and striding towards the door, flapping his hand by his shoulder in lofty dismissal. "Don't let the screen suck your eyeballs out, Crawford."
The American snorted quietly to himself, returning to his work.
Crazy German.
"Just wanted to say..."
Crawford clenched his teeth at the carefree voice in the doorway, refusing to stop his typing.
"...I appreciate it, ya know?"
His fingers stilled.
Crawford hesitated for a long moment, eyes still on the monitor before saying quietly, "No, I don't know. What are you talking about?"
For a moment he thought the other man had left, then the firey-haired man reappeared beside his desk, cocky grin still in place, one hand shoved in the pockets of his pants. "Your silence," he said easily.
Crawford paused once more in his work to gaze solemnly at the younger man. He had been a little startled by Schuldich's earlier comment, but now he understood what the man meant. The crush and turmoil of hundreds to thousands of minds that must constantly torture his flippant parner would be enough to drive anyone over the edge. Crawford raised an eyebrow at a sudden revelation. Was that why the German spent so much time around him? To bask in the silent darkness of his mind like a cat in the sun?
He noticed the free hand hanging by Schuldich's hand was twitching slightly, and for some reason the words "Get out" died before they reached his lips. He gazed up into the burning jade eyes and saw something there he had never noticed before.
"Of course," he said calmly, and turned his attention back on his monitor.
Schuldich blinked, obviously waiting for his dismissal, then grinned quickly to cover his momentary surprise, reaching out a lanky arm to snag an extra chair and pull it towards him, plopping down and straddling the back, propping his arms on the cushioned back and leaning his chin on his wrists, watching the back of the American's head with an intensity that would have disturbed anyone else. Seeming satisfied after several long minutes of this mysterious scrutiny, Schuldich made a big production of yawning and complaining about how tired he was before finally shutting his eyes and falling into a light doze.
It was nearly ten minutes later before Crawford finally finished his work and shut down the computer. Leaning back a little, he removed his glasses to rub wearily at his brow before turning his chair to contemplate the sleeping man behind him. It was a little strange that the German should feel-- safe? no..comfortable enough around his partner to drop his guard and doze off, even if he wasn't deep in slumber. In sleep his face was relaxed and more handsome in a way than the smirking front he usually put up.
Crawford realized he had been sitting staring at his companion for almost five minutes, and stood up quickly but smoothly, unconsciously careful not to make a sound. He picked up his cold, empty coffee mug and stifled a yawn as he flicked one last glance downwards towards the dozing assassin in the office chair. Time ticked by as he simply stood, mulling over his private thoughts-- those that the telepath would never see or touch.
"Hn.." he grunted, watching as his free hand moved of its own will to touch the German's cheek in an almost gentle carress. His surprise at his own movement was doubled when jade eyes suddenly opened, locked on his own.
For a long moment there was only the sound of the old clock on the wall as green and chocolate met and held. It had been Schuldich's idea to put up that clock. Something about wanting to keep track of 'how long Crawford spent at that stupid machine' or something along those lines. He had allowed the German to put it up, despite the fact that he owned a watch. Sometimes it was easier just to let the other man have his way. There was less whining that way. And...
Sometimes it was satisfying somehow in itself just to humor the German.
Finally Schuldich spoke. "You spend too much time on that damn computer," he said quietly, with a hint of the usual sarcasm. "Your hands are cold." Crawford let his hand drop by his side, watching calmly as his teammate rose to his feet and stretched languidly, yawning loudly.
Schuldich offered the older man a cocky grin, extending his arm in invitation. "I'm starved. It's dinner time," he declared. It was a statement, not a suggestion, and Crawford felt a smirk tease at his lips, but did not offer his own arm. Undaunted, the other assassin snagged his shirt sleeve, letting his arm slide through his own, tugging him and sauntering out of the room in parody of a couple off to dinner. "Come, let's be off," he said flippantly, flashing a mischevious grin, fully expecting his partner to shake him off and not caring.
Crawford started to pull his arm free, but finding a minimum resistance in the wiry arm through his, he relaxed the limb, glancing down at his partner with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm not cooking."
For the second time that night surprise flashed across Schuldich's features before a wide grin split his handsome face. "Don't look at me," he said huffily. "Make Nagi do it. I'll burn down the friggin' kitchen."
Schuldich just smirked, turning his eyes forward, allowing his arm to relax against Crawford's. "Or we could always let Farf try his hand at 'Fine Cooking with Blenders'..."
Crawford allowed a small smirk to touch his lips. "I don't think so."


Author's Notes:
"Break Me, Shake Me" belongs to Savage Garden, not me. Don't sue. =p

Ok, I sat down and did this in about ten minutes.. I had to rush doin' it cuz he kept poppin' up every few minutes buggin' me about it and wanting to read it.. ^.^; lol So yes it sux. Plus he wanted just shounen ai, and I've never done less than a lime before.. @_@ My first and most likely last attempt at brad/schu. I don't really like this couple cuz every time I find a fic on them Schu is acting girly and Brad is all lovey-dovey. *makes a face* And you all know how I feel about OOC.. *shudders* 'Kay, enuff frum me. Catch ya later, ja! ^^