For a friend… yeah, you know who you are! You know because you beta'd it! X3
Challenge: Write senseless drabble involving Xaldin, Xigbar, and marshmallows
Warnings: This thing was spawned from a great many random RPs involving the Org XIII guys so be prepared- as this work contains mindless fluff and cuteness. Not to mention some very evident 2+3ness, which there can never be enough of in the world. There are brief mentions of other pairings. Nothing special.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the game they are from, nor do I profit from the writing or posting of this story. This truth makes me sad.
- - -
Xigbar was perplexed -- simply and utterly confused. He was standing in the middle of the large and very plain kitchen that was shared by twelve others, dressed not in his standard organization coat, but casual jeans, shirt, and Marluxia's favorite frilly pink apron. In front of him sat a lonely baking tray; on it lay one very small cinnamon graham cracker, topped with a piece of dark chocolate skewered to the side. Clearly there was something missing, and Xigbar was of course sharp enough to determine what it was. Thus, why he was currently puzzled as to where it had gone.
Because… he had saved those marshmallows for himself!
- - -
Quite a few rooms and floors from where the sharpshooter was mulling over a way out of this predicament sat another fellow, this one not so worried about where his next snack was coming from.
This man was perched contentedly on the edge of his generic bed in his basic and unadorned room with a thick cloth rag in his hand, polishing the incredibly sharp blades that tipped the ends of his weapon, Ginsus. To his left side laid a scarred and dented stone which he had, until a few moments ago in which he cast it away with disinterest, been using to rake across the steel to hone the tips to perfection. On the man's right side, however, was something that seemed to be attracting just about the same amount of attention as his shining spear tips.
Smiling with satisfaction, Xaldin reached into the crumpled plastic bag and pulled out a white puffy treat which he popped into his mouth without hesitation.
The odds that he hadn't noticed the paper taped to the front of the bag, which screamed at any onlooker with large, looming red letters, were so small they may as well not have existed in the first place. In fact, it was that same message that caught his eye and gave him incentive to snatch it out of the pantry. To tell the truth, he'd never even cared for this strange snack much before, but after seeing the threatening note written on the container, he had become very curious as to why someone would go so out of their way to protect it.
That -- and he couldn't stop grinning at the thought of Xigbar throwing a tantrum because someone stole his marshmallows, which he had taken the time to lovingly write "EAT AND DIE" across in the large, clear strokes of a sharpie. And he hadn't even forgotten to sign his name in small friendly letters at the bottom, either.
- - -
The hunt for his coveted treats went on; Xigbar had barged into almost every room he knew existed in the place, though he wished some doors had remained closed. Superior and Saïx really need to remember to lock their private quarters… that scene should keep him good and scarred for a few days. Joy.
The other rooms held no clues as to where the last ingredient for his simple (yet perfect, since it was Xigbar's) s'mores recipe was located. He crossed off names of a mental list as an attempt to narrow his searching field. Larxene surely didn't have them… she had been in an exceptionally bitchy mood lately and was too distracted by eating through the group's supply of chocolate. Xigbar knew this too well thanks to the near-death experience he'd had this morning, when he tried to convince her to give up a piece for his own snacking purposes. Demyx was crossed off the list also; he was busy playing keep away with Axel's chakrams, clearly oblivious to the dangers of this game (until he was pinned against a wall by the redhead's little blonde companion, then thoroughly burnt to a crisp by the pyro). The bystanders of this impromptu barbeque, Marluxia and Zexion, couldn't have been the culprits either. No, no… they had no motives for such a despicable act.
And if they all didn't, then who did? The trigger-happy Nobody gave this some thinking before banishing his mental list away. Whoever was left on it didn't matter, because the answer had been ringing clear as a bell the whole time. He made a small angry grunt, scowling as he slowly meandered in the direction of the true criminal, disregarding the fact that he could simply teleport there. He was too engrossed in the moment.
- - -
Only one left…
Xaldin almost felt disappointed that this puffy sweet joy was nearly gone, hoping that the supply would be replenished soon -- he'd really taken an unexpected liking to them. His attention switched back to his spears, which were lying in a very organized line across the bed, displaying their sharp and shining tips almost proudly. Smiling with the accomplishment he willed them all away, standing up to return his whetting stone and polishing cloth to a dresser drawer where a few other tools were housed.
It was during this short trip across the width of the room that there was a telltale creak of a door behind him. He turned, blinking in near-surprise as he set eyes on a higher-in-command, Number Two to be exact, currently taking a step over the threshold and gazing around the room intently with his remaining golden eye.
"Sir...?" Xaldin asked mockingly, unable to hide the sound of amusement in his voice nor the smile spreading across his face. Quite deliberately, he strode back to his neatly made bed and sat on the edge, right next to the bag which was temporary shelter for the one remaining marshmallow. "What brings you?"
"You have something of mine," Xigbar's gaze sharpened into a glare; Number Three's smile broadened. "I want it back, with an apology to go with it." With a quick and almost undetectable movement, his arm shot out to snatch the bag away -- but he wasn't fast enough. Xaldin blocked it with seemingly perfect ease, plucking the last of the little treats out and tossing the empty bag over his shoulder.
"This is what you're after, yes?" Now the dragoon had an almost cat-like smirk as he held the poofy marshmallow over his head and tilted his chin up so that it was dangling over his mouth. "It's your fault in the first place, I wouldn't have even noticed them if you hadn't left that ridiculous warning scrawled across it. They -are- worth a bit of the effort though I suppose. Too bad it was a waste…"
The next few nanoseconds went by surprisingly slowly. The last of the stolen sweets was released from Xaldin's grip and began its decent into his open mouth, where once inside it would be gone forever -- never mind that it was something anyone could pick up at a grocery store, it had belonged to XIGBAR, along with a large amount of others, and there was no way he was going to give it up now! Not after all of the hard work put into tracking down the goodness that should be sitting happily atop a mess of melted chocolate and crumbly graham cracker in the kitchen…!
There was that speed again, and this time Number Three had his guard down. Xigbar lunged, pouncing on the other like an oversized one-eyed leopard, and before Xaldin could even give a startled yell of protest something had smashed onto his face.
Or to be more correct, his lips.
Xigbar had both hands on either side of the lower-ranking Nobody's face, holding him tightly so there could be no escape until the task was completed. He forced the other's mouth open (which was easy given Xaldin's complete shock), and with a deft movement of his tongue, successfully rescued his oh-so-wonderful marshmallow from the depths of no return. With a beaming grin like no other spread across his face, Xigbar pulled back, letting Xaldin flop backwards onto his bed, totally bewildered.
Number Two gave the treat a thoughtful chew before swallowing and made his way casually back to the door, the smirk showing no sign of ever fading away.
"I'll be waiting for that apology," he added, waving nonchalantly as he exited.
The Organization never ran out of marshmallows again.