Crawford braced himself, knowing before it happened that the front door was going to slam inwards, which it did with reliable timing. The bang was rather loud and did not help the headache he was already nursing thanks to a particularly nasty vision he had had that afternoon. His gift was not always fun.
The redhead in the doorway fixed him with a very cold, violet glare that Crawford had seen stop other men in their tracks. For his part Crawford just stared back and prayed that his gift would not kick in full strength. It had been far too long a day and he really did not relish one of Weiß showing up. He knew why the redhead was there of course and the reason was also redheaded and currently lounging on the couch in the other room. Crawford realised he should have just gone out earlier for a quiet walk.
"Fujimiya," he said evenly.
"Crawford," the red head replied in an icy tone and stepped through the door, "where is he?"
"In there," Crawford said, indicating the room down the hall; he really had no qualms about letting Schuldig deal with this and stepped aside as the Weiß strode into the house.
Revenge was such an interesting motivation.
"Schuldig!" Fujimiya's half shout, half growl went straight through his head and he winced.
The startled squeak from Schuldig's direction was quite amusing, but did little to help his headache.
"You stood me up."
Crawford winced again at the volume.
"I got shot," was Schuldig's somewhat desperate reply.
"And you couldn't pick up a phone?"
Crawford rubbed his temples as his mind filled with flashes of the ensuing argument and then some very graphic images of how the two volatile redheads were going to make up. It really had been quieter when they had been enemies.