Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters. They were created by Matsushita Yoko and Koyasu Takehito, respectively. I wrote this story in about an hour so forgive any massive errors. It’s supposed to be funny, so ignore the mangling of characters.

Tatsumi: I don't think you mangled them.

Schu: Yeah, but you didn't have to cross dress.

Tatsumi: You should have known better. You can read minds, ne?

Schu: You have me confused with someone who can see the future.

Crawford: Please leave me out of this. I'm as embarrassed as you are.

Tatsumi: Who cares about embarrasment as long as I get a percentage of the proceedings?

Aya: $_$ Money?

Break it up, you guys...NO ONE is getting paid!

Somewhat anxiously, the scientist peered over his glasses at his superior. “But I had to find someone to take it—” he said defensively.

“You paid someone to test your…experiment?” said the secretary of the Shokan division with a pained expression on his face. “Watari-san…”

Watari Yutaka felt it was time to point out that no one in EnmaCho would try his potions. However, given his past attempts at this specific formula, it was not surprising that his fellow Shinigami refused to take anything he gave them, even if it was only water.

Of course, Tatsumi Seiichirou could not argue with that. He himself did not like taking anything in liquid form from the division’s scientist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Watari, it was just that…well…to be frank, he didn’t trust Watari.

“I know it’s unusual for us to go outside for help, but I really wanted to make sure I had it this time! And it worked!”

Tatsumi hesitated. He didn’t want to see any of his subordinates forced to be Watari’s guinea pigs. Less than that, he did not want EnmaDaiOh-sama to hear of it—or have to explain the concurrent expenses from the labs that were often destroyed by the irate victims.

Oh, Watari’s tricks were harmless enough—they did eventually wear off, or he found an antidote, but it was usually uncomfortable for whomsoever was involved. Tatsumi had learned to politely refuse anything Watari offered him as a matter of course. “I understand,” he said reluctantly. “But…did you have to pay them?”

Four women stood outside of the bar. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked the tallest somewhat suspiciously.

The woman she addressed, a vivacious redhead, tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked wickedly. “You’re too tense. This will be fun. It will mess with their heads. Besides, they’ll be completely off guard.”

The tall brunette sighed. “All right,” she said. “But anything goes wrong…” she let the thought trail off.

“H’n!” said the redhead. “You’re the one who got us into this in the first place.”

The brunette chose to ignore that, instead striding to the door and opening it, holding it for the others to pass through. First went the tall redhead, with a confident sexy walk that caught the eye of every man and held it (at least until the others walked in). Next came the girl with the peculiarly silver colored hair, parted so that one long fall of hair covered nearly half her face. The last was a petite Japanese woman, with short hair that clustered around her young face.

The tall brunette closed the door behind her, casting a glance around the bar somewhat contemptuously. Their prey had already been found by the redhead, who made her purposeful way across to the targets, holding firmly onto the arm of the silver-haired woman. The Japanese girl followed behind somewhat sulkily.

The redhead was already talking to one of the men when the brunette came up, laughing at what he said. “—to have a good time,” she was saying with a smile. “Oh, this is Br—Brandi,” she finished somewhat hastily.

Brandi glared at him, and adjusted her glasses, which did their best to hide a pair of amber colored eyes. “Hajime mashita,” she said in a flat voice.

The man who was talking to the redhead didn’t pay much attention to her. His gaze had been taken by the redhead immediately, and she knew it. Her brilliant green eyes were full of challenge. She had a somewhat nasal voice and a laugh guaranteed to grate on the nerves, but she was a gorgeous, sultry creature, with incredibly long legs. She was doing her best to show them off, as well, wearing an incredibly short miniskirt and what were commonly known as “fuck me” shoes.

Kudoh Yohji cast a glance at his fellow men. Fujimiya Aya didn’t look overly enthusiastic about the proposed joining of women with the group, but then, very little pleased Aya if it wasn’t money. Hidaka Ken was working on his fourth drink, already tipsy, and Tsukiyono Omi-chan was blushing.

Invitingly, Yohji patted his lap, and the redhead swooped down upon him, putting her arms around his neck. “Hoo, you’re strong,” said Yohji.

She smirked at him. “You have no idea.”

He grinned back.

The woman with the silver hair had climbed into Ken’s lap with a dreamily blissful expression on her face. Her hand groped across the table for Aya’s knife, but he grabbed it away from her possessively. She pouted, the single gold eye that was visible still staring off somewhat vaguely into space. Ken, finding his lap full of girl, blinked. She leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “Want to hurt God?”

The Japanese girl sat next to Omi. “Did you bring your laptop?” she asked wistfully.

Brandi hesitated, then slid into the chair next to Aya. The two of them very carefully avoided making eye contact.

The redhead crossed her legs, nearly kicking a waitress who was trying to pass them. “What’s your name, hot stuff?” she asked.

“Yohji,” he answered. He nodded to his fellows. “That’s Aya…oh, stop looking so grumpy. That’s Ken, and the bishonen is Omi-chan.”

“Yohji-kun!” the youngest man at the table objected. He didn’t like the nickname anyway, and in front of girls…

Yohji grinned. “Gomen, ne,” he said. “That is Omi.”

“I’m Sch…er, Shantelle.” Aya turned his head and eyed her somewhat dubiously at the name, but she swept on. “You’ve met Brandi…that’s, um, Ella, and Na…tsumi.”

Omi had already whipped out his laptop, and the young couple was sitting with their heads together poring over the internet. Yohji sighed. It was a good thing he didn’t go for girls under 18, because then he’d be tempted to berate Omi for wasting such a fine opportunity. But with his lap full of vibrant Shantelle, he didn’t really care whether or not Omi rose to the occasion.

He glanced over at Ken and Ella. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like she was mauling him. One of those dominant women. Ken was sure hard pressed to defend his virtue, or whatever it was she was actually after. Yohji allowed a smug smile to cross his face, and slid an arm around Shantelle’s waist.

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink?” Shantelle inquired with a lifting of one brow.

Luckily for Yohji, assassination pays well. He obligingly bought her a beer—and she downed it in one swig. He was both impressed and slightly intimidated. She leered at him, wiping the foam away from her mouth. “You can’t get good beer here,” she said. “Tastes like piss! The only good beer is German.”

Yohji leaned back in his chair. “Let’s drink something else, then,” he proposed.

Her eyes gleamed. “You’re on,” she said immediately, and the two of them went to the bar.

Brandi looked uncomfortable. Aya was silent, ignoring her as best he could. He was also trying to ignore the faint sounds of a scuffle from under the table where Ken had crashed with Ella when she practically knocked him out of his chair. Omi and Natsumi were busily arguing over who got to use the keyboard.

Brandi stood up abruptly, wobbling slightly in her heels. She frowned down at them. Shantelle had insisted she wear heels. She marched over to where Shantelle and Kudoh-san were doing shots at the bar, and firmly grabbed the redhead’s arm.

“Where are you going?” Yohji inquired with a lazy smile.

Brandi’s mouth opened, then closed. “The bathroom,” she said finally.

Yohji nodded. He never knew why women went to the bathroom in groups, and he’d never asked. It was probably some reason he didn’t want to know.

Shantelle followed Brandi back to the restrooms, quickly pulling the taller brunette into the women’s room when she almost passed by. “What’s wrong?” she inquired.

Brandi adjusted her glasses again. “Remind me why this is a good idea?” she snapped.

Shantelle sighed. “You have no love of adventure. Let me put it this way—you know that idiot Yohji’s reputation. This is the easiest way to get into their hideout.” Her eyes gleamed. “Besides, it’s fun. They have no idea who we are. Just because we’re women, they’re willing to let us do anything.” She preened. “I could have any man in there,” she boasted.

Brandi snorted.

The redhead ran a hand through her luxurious mane. “Try something on Aya,” she suggested, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Damn, I wish I’d brought more lipstick.”

“I am not going to make a move on Aya!” protested Brandi indignantly.

Shantelle looked at her with that annoying smirk that was so characteristic. “Why not?” she inquired. Brandi opened her mouth to say the obvious, then thought better of it. “You need to relax, girlfriend,” Shantelle recommended.

“I am not your girlfriend!” Brandi replied.

Shantelle cocked her head at the other woman with a decidedly ecchi smirk. “Of course not. No girl I’ve touched ever thinks about me like that.”

She received a furious glare for her mocking words, then Brandi spun on her heel and went back to the table, sitting in her vacant chair. Shantelle went back to the bar, having assured herself that her hair was still deliciously mussed.

Glancing over at the redhead sitting so confidently with Yohji, Brandi tentatively ran a hand through her own hair, pulling it off to the side and out of its usual center part. She looked at the stern, silent figure next to her.

“Um,” she said.

Aya glanced at her.

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked.

“No.”

Brandi fumed. Why did she have to get stuck with the prick? It wasn’t fair. She should have gone for Yohji. He’d make it all easier than Mr. Grumpy sitting beside her. Why did Shantelle get the playboy? She ought to have to deal with the silent one instead. She knew Brandi was no good at this kind of thing.

Something knocked against her shin, and she kicked Ella back. It seems Ken still hadn’t managed to get away from the persistent silver-haired woman. Brandi cleared her throat and decided to give it another try.

“So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

God, what a stupid thing to say. He’d think it was a pick-up line. He’d laugh at her. She felt herself turning red in anticipation and was annoyed with herself. She wasn’t used to a situation like this, and damnit, she had no idea what was coming up. That annoyed her more than anything. It wasn’t often she went into a situation at a disadvantage, but this was definitely not her usual day.

Aya looked at her again, leaning back in his chair. “I only came to make Yohji stop pestering me,” he said finally. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She blinked at him. The answer was as unexpected as the return question. “I—uh…you see, I—”

“Shantelle?” Aya inquired with a glance at the redhead, who was laughing raucously at whatever it was Yohji whispered in her ear.

Brandi nodded. “She wouldn’t rest until we came here to find y—” she caught herself up.

Aya’s expression told her nothing. At least some things didn’t change, she reflected bitterly. Something hit her shin again, and she winced, nudging Ken’s struggling form off her foot.

“You came to find us?” Aya said.

Shit! Brandi thought. I slipped! Now it’s going to get messy—

“One of Yohji’s stalkers, then.”

Aya’s words made her breathe a sigh of relief. “Uh, yeah. We’ve, um, heard a lot about you guys.”

Another loud burst of nasal laughter made Aya frown. “It must be a pain in the ass, having a friend like her,” he said.

Brandi regarded him with surprise. “You must empathize,” she murmured, pushing up her glasses. She had never thought about it, but Yohji must be as bad as Sch—Shantelle. Maybe not quite as bad, but bad enough…

Aya scowled. “I have enough to worry about with getting enough money to support everyone,” he muttered, “without having to deal with his constant womanizing.”

In JuOhChu, Tatsumi nodded approvingly. He had initially been against Watari’s suggestion that they keep tabs on the victims—er, the participants, but he was pleased to find that someone in that group had his priorities straight. He almost wished Tsuzuki-san could have been there to hear such an appropriate attitude, but Tsuzuki would have been too distracted by the remains of Watari’s lunch on the table to learn such a salutary lesson.

“Now where did I write down the ingredients for this potion!” Watari muttered to himself, throwing papers around. Tatsumi sighed, and hoped that the GuShoShin wouldn’t come looking for him right now. He really wanted to see how this story played out…

Watari pushed his blonde hair from his eyes, regarding the chaos in the lab. “I know I wrote it somewhere…”

003’s eyes opened briefly, regarding the scientist, then closed again in resignation.

Brandi was fast warming to Aya. She’d never realized that he dealt with some of the same problems she did. “I know. Shantelle can’t be brought to take anything seriously.” Not even taking over the world.

“Yohji only wants women,” Aya agreed.

“And it was so hard after we had—er—job difficulties,” she nodded. “Shantelle never changes.”

“Yohji either.” The two of them were almost beginning to feel a certain amount of camaraderie.

There was a muffled thump from under the table, and the constant typing from across the way stopped. “Kiwotsukete, Ken-kun!” Omi said. “You’re going to unplug us.” In his moment of distraction, Natsumi triumphantly filched the keyboard.

Yohji came back to the table with one arm around Shantelle’s shoulders. She was tall for a woman, too—almost taller than Yohji in her heels. They loomed over the table, and Yohji said, “C’mon…let’s get out of here and go somewhere more comfortable.”

Shantelle smirked at Brandi, as if to say, See? I know what I’m doing. Somewhat unsteadily, the tipsy pair made their way out. Aya reached under the table and grabbed Ken’s arm, pulling the ex-soccer player up. Ken’s eyes were a little wild, and he looked apprehensively at Ella when she emerged on the other side with a manic smile on her face.

The entire walk back to the flower shop, Omi and Natsumi complained about having to disconnect. Omi was still saving up for wireless internet, but he was having enough trouble paying for his dart supply and designer shorts.

Aya stalked down the street at the end with Brandi beside him. She had to constantly remind herself not to take steps that were too wide. Damn, she couldn’t wait to get out of these shoes. And the damn bra. Sure, it supported, but it was itchy!

Shantelle kept slapping Yohji’s hand off her ass, making sure the gesture was always flirtatious but effective at protecting her derriere. Is this what it’s always like? she wondered. I feel like I’m wrestling an octopus. She took a brief peek into his thoughts.

…

What the hell is he thinking? God, I’m not going to sleep with him! I bet he takes up half the bed!

…

She resisted the urge to slug Yohji, instead smiling at him and laughing at his witty remarks. I hope we’re almost there. I think I’m getting a run in my pantyhose.

Natsumi adjusted her skirt slightly. I hope Tot forgives me for the stain, she thought somewhat apprehensively. I couldn’t help it! If I’d used my powers, well—I think even Ken would have noticed. She glanced around. Where is Ken?

Brandi suddenly found herself being gripped somewhat firmly by the arm. She glanced down at Ken’s mussed hair. “Shh!” he whispered fiercely, glancing around her to make sure Ella couldn’t hear. “I’m hiding. What the hell does she mean, ‘Let’s hurt God’ anyway?”

They reached the flower shop without further incidents. Yohji turned on the lights, offering everybody a drink. “I think we’re fine,” Brandi said before Shantelle could accept.

Shantelle shot her a sharp glare, but one corner of her mouth lifted in something approaching fatalism. She didn’t have to read Brandi’s mind to know that the tall brunette wanted the game to be over. And it was so much fun, too…maybe we’ll have to go back some time.

“All right,” she said in an almost business-like manner. She could feel the effects beginning to wear off. “Girls, I think you’d better get out of your shoes…”

With relief, Natsumi and Brandi slipped off their pumps. Apparently Ella preferred to keep hers on.

There was a pop.

Yohji stared in disbelief at the smirking redhead in front of him. It was the same as Shantelle, except…not.

“Kisama!” Aya snarled.

Bradley Crawford, relieved to be back in his own body once again, adjusted his glasses in a familiar mannerism. “Yes, Weiß. We, too, survived the destruction of the building. Este is no more, but you have still us to face!”

“I think we have you at a disadvantage,” Omi said, averting his eyes politely.

Crawford glanced down at himself, and frowned.

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn a miniskirt,” mourned Schu, with the tatters of his outfit around his feet. “But it looked so good when I was a woman!”

Yohji would have agreed, had he not just seen said woman change into the snide Schwarz telepath. He could only hope Schudig hadn’t read his mind…

Schuldig, as if hearing his thoughts (which was a distinct possibility, given the German man’s talent and meddling disposition), glanced over at him and smirked.

Yohji sweatdropped. O_O’

“Very well,” said Crawford coldly, trying as best to maintain his dignity. “This is not the end, Weiß.” Curtly he gestured for the others to follow him, and put his foot on the bottom stair. He paused, and glared at Weiß.

Aya, Yohji, a still confused and slightly tipsy Ken, and Omi turned their backs, and Schwarz made their indecent escape into the night.

For a moment, Farfarello stood in the moonlight, unswaying despite the added height from the stilettos.

“High heels hurt God!” he announced.

Tatsumi leaned back. Well, things were back to normal. Sort of. Supposing that the men of Weiß ever got over the shock of seeing their enemies as women.

“Where is it?” demanded Watari behind the Kagetsukai. “I know I wrote it down! 003, did you eat it?”

The owl scorned to answer.

Absently Tatsumi patted his breast pocket. Honestly. He couldn’t have Watari doing such foolish things like this. The man was brilliant, to be sure, but not much of an accountant. A patent on this mixture could be very lucrative…

NOTES

This is set some time after the end of the first season of Weiß Kreuz. I haven’t seen WK: Glühen yet, so I can’t exactly bring in anything from that.

For those of you unfamiliar with Yami no Matsuei, Watari-san has been trying to create a gender-changing potion. No one’s quite sure why. Or at least, no one except Watari. He’s managed to make a mind-switching potion (which he put into Valentine’s chocolates to tempt Tsuzuki, but due to a chocolate mishap, several other Shinigami were switched, including Tatsumi into the body of one of the female Shinigami) and a rejuvination potion. He and Tsuzui are so damn adorable chibi!

Hajime mashita: pleased to meet you

Kiwotsukete: be careful

The ellipses represent Shantelle/Schuldig using telepathy

Kisama: very impolite form of address; basically, “you bastard”

Kagetsukai: literally, “shadow user”

As for the names…

Brad into Brandi because of the BRA part ^_^

Schuldig into Shantelle because it was all I could think of

Nagi into Natsumi because it’s a common Japanese woman’s name

Farfarello into Ella because I couldn’t call her Ello

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