A/N: Another writing prompt from tumblr. This was one of those "send me the first sentence and I'll write the next five" prompts but I went a little overboard, haha.

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney and Square Enix.

The quirking of the Schemer's lips made him immensely and immediately anxious–nothing good ever came of Zexion smiling. In Axel's experience, it usually meant something particularly unpleasant was about to happen to him in the next several seconds.

"Good afternoon, Number VIII. Please, have a seat," the younger Nobody gestured with a lazy wave of his hand and Lexaeus dumped Axel into a nearby chair.

"Hey, wait a sec–ow, easy on the shoulder," Axel winced, still sore from a mission that morning when a Soldier Heartless had sunk its claws into his arm. He stiffly rotated it. Then, narrowing his eyes, he directed his gaze across the library where Zexion was perched on a large armchair in the corner, partially obscured by shadow. "So. I'm gonna guess this isn't just a nice, friendly chat among coworkers. Look, if this is about those encyclopedias the other day–"

"Incinerated books are the least of your concerns at the moment," Zexion interrupted smoothly.

The darkness veiling him dissipated. He rose to his feet and stalked across the room, the slow deliberate rap of his boots echoing sharply in the silence following his words. There was a trace of something horrible and predatory in his smile that Axel didn't like at all. Coming to a halt in front of his chair, Zexion sent a meaningful glance over the redhead's shoulder. Axel felt Lexaeus step in close behind him.

Well that was comforting.

Zexion withdrew a folded piece of paper from his pocket and opened it. "I discovered this outside of Twilight's View this morning." He held it up and turned it around, studying Axel's expression closely. "You should recognize the handwriting."

Axel's mouth ran dry as he stared back at his own untidy scrawl. No, no, no, no. This was not happening.

The paper was a message he'd intended to deliver to Saïx. Meeting in private to discuss their future coup against the Organization had become increasingly difficult over the past few months. Xigbar seemed to be everywhere lately, eavesdropping as usual, and one never knew which shadows Zexion was lurking in. So they'd resorted to exchanging notes with Axel's mission briefs and reports when they had the chance. This one must have fallen out of his pocket without him noticing.

But wait. He wasn't a dead man just yet. Thanks to one small detail.

Masking his anxiety behind feigned ignorance, Axel skimmed the traitorous message. "Doesn't ring a bell actually. Without a signature, it's–"

"I've already compared the handwriting on this note with the handwriting on your laptop's Post-It notes. They're identical."

Axel muttered a curse under his breath. It figured. All right then. That left him with one other option:

Destroy the evidence. And cross his fingers that it would take more than Zexion's word alone to incriminate him.

The next minute was a flurry of motion. Axel sprang to his feet, hoping to put some amount of distance between himself and Lexaeus. He raised a hand to cast a Fire spell. Zexion stepped back. Oh yes. He was really going to enjoy wiping that smug smirk off the kid's face. Flashing a grin of his own, he took aim and–

–got the wind knocked out of him as Lexaeus rammed him against the closest bookshelf, pinning his lanky arms behind his back with an iron grip. Axel tried twisting around, pulling his hands free, throwing his head back, anything. But the motions sent a fresh jolt of pain through his injured shoulder. He grit his teeth and stopped once it became clear he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Thank you, Lexaeus," came the Schemer's voice from somewhere behind him. "Now then, back to the note…I'm sure you know what happens next, VIII. After we fetch VII, we can have that 'nice, friendly chat' you mentioned earlier." There was the sound of a Dark Corridor opening. "With the Superior."