Yeah yeah, don't own characters and all that crap. Anyways, this story was a real pain to finish! I had most of it done in a few days, but it turned into one of those fics where it just refused to end, you know? So annoying! Bleh… xp Well, it isn't meant to be much anyways. Just a nice little fluffy, ooc, one-shot. I honestly don't know how I ever wrote something like this. As for inspiration, well, I have no heating in my room, and it seems I can never get warm enough during the winter, even with clothes, pillows, and blankets. Speaking of which, I need to thank a friend for loaning me her pillow and blanket. O.o; Sigh. Yes, sadly, I don't have a bed, or blanket, or even a pillow when I'm forced to go home for the holidays. Stupid school and their closed campus! Stupider family and their turning my room into a storage/dog room! Glad to know my place in the pecking order, which is under three dumb Chihuahuas. Anyways, enough ranting. On to the weird story that is nothing like I would ever imagine writing! Dx
Warmth

Because sometimes it's nice to feel the warmth of another...

He couldn't hold his head up any longer. Bowing in defeat to the book laid across the table, one of many piled in stacks around him, Zexion scooted back the chair that had held him now for many hours and promptly stood up, against the protests of his aching body. A soft yawn slipped past his lips.

The hour was unknown, but the large room, as well as the rest of the castle, was dark and still. The schemer approved, and briefly considered adjusting his sleeping hours so that he might have the luxury of being awake in this rare, quiet moment more often. But for now, his heavy eyelids threatened to leave him blind. It was time to find a place to rest.

Slowly stepping over and around the old scattered books that occasionally lay strewn on the floor like traps in this maze of shelves that was their library, Number VI wearily made his way through the twists and turns like a rat in hopes of finding the treat at the end, which in this case was a large, cushiony couch. Though a few of the more comfy chairs caught his eye along the way, the young scientist did not particularly like waking up with a crick in his neck. No, the chairs would be left empty— denied.

But before his droopy eyes could protest at the sight that was soon to greet him, his nose already knew what he would find. He only wondered why he didn't think or smell of her earlier. This was her territory after all; her hunting ground. True, his tiredness had thrown off his usually sharp cognitive ability, but didn't she ever retire to her own room? For a moment he was quite tempted to turn around, to simply summon a portal of darkness to carry him to his own room and bed. In his current state, he was easy prey to the nymph's usual antics.

Zexion paused as he thought things over, hidden in the shadows of the mountain of books that stood between him and her like a cage at a zoo. In this silent, if not a little slower, wonderment of his next move, a sudden realization struck. The quiet that he had so admired just moments ago held a hidden secret that he had just now stumbled upon.

Holding his breath, he checked once more. Again, nothing. No turning of paper pages, no shelving or pulling of books, no footsteps. Slowly he released his warm breath into the cold surrounding air.

If she truly was there, which his nose insisted she was, there was only one other test to perform. Slowly his bangs followed by half-lidded eyes made it around the corner. Hopefully she was too preoccupied to notice his curious intrusion.

But there would be nothing to worry about. There laid the Savage Nymph, tucked under a black sheet she must have brought from her room, and a matching black pillow supporting her head. She was sleeping, as indicated by the slow rise and fall of her chest, and the otherwise lack of movement. It was a very strange sight to say the least. It certainly wasn't every day that you caught the Apathetic Princess so off guard; so vulnerable.

This night was just full of rarities.

Well, this was all good and well, save for one thing. Walking out from his hiding place, Zexion looked longingly at the couch that he had sought out in vain... or, perhaps not? His stubborn streak began to flare. The Cloaked Schemer wanted that couch and the warmth and rest that came with it. And by using his wits, Number VI typically got what he wanted.

Perhaps it was because he was so tired that he even dared to draw near the sleeping woman. In any other state of mind he would have thought his plot, his actions, ludicrous. But the night, sleepiness, and obstinacy were known to do strange things to even the most level headed of Nobodies and Humans alike. Never the less, in one quick and fluid movement, Zexion snatched away the black sheet and dumped it haphazardly on the floor. With the exception of a slight shudder and the tightening of her fists, the black tank top and shorts clad nymph did not stir. The schemer took in a deep breath. Then slowly and steadily he stretched out on his side onto the small space available next to the edge of the couch. He paused, thinking twice about what he was planning to do next. This was suicide, but as their bodies shivered in unison he knew that he had to make his move now or risk waking up the slumbering beast. Gently he slipped his arm under the other Nobody and finally and very boldly rolled her still sleeping form onto his chest and stomach while he settled in on his back.

Stillness. No lightning. No kunai. No nails or teeth. Phew. He'd managed to avoid a second death... for now.

It was moments like these that he was glad he contained no heart, else this situation might strike him as awkward or embarrassing. Still, the emotions, or perhaps the memories of such things, seemed to flutter like a trapped butterfly inside his lean form. It was oddly amusing.

Grasping the crumpled black sheet that had been cast to the floor, with a flick of his arm, the thin material covered him from toe to chin. At last, warmth and rest became his. With a deep, contented breath, the faint scent of soapy cleanliness and a light lavender lotion played on his nose. Thank Kingdom Hearts she wasn't the type to bathe herself in over-powering perfumes, reekingly strong lotions, and/or that other itchy and sniffling inducing crap Marluxia was constantly spraying himself with. Otherwise the nymph, who was nothing more than a small lump under the blanket, would have found herself waking up on the floor.

But amazingly, Zexion had finally discovered one use for the annoying blonde Nobody. She did make a decent heating pad. It always took him forever to warm up enough to sleep.

Immediately his eyes slipped shut. His plan was perfect. In a few hours he would awaken and leave as if nothing had occurred. Number XII was obviously a sound sleeper, as she had barely stirred any since his daring move. It was also a known fact among the Organization that she constantly slept in as well. With all this in mind, Zexion drifted into a soft slumber.

What was two hours felt like only two minutes as the schemer awoke to a strange shuffling noise and feeling under the blanket. In a sleepy stupor, his hand lifted to feel out what disturbance dared to awaken him. His uncovered eye slit open in drowsy curiosity at what he discovered. Hair. Soft hair, though slightly damp. It was just beginning to dry and fluff up.

A few moments of bewildered but blissful thought floated by as he continued to ruffle the fluffiness at his fingertips. It oddly reminded him of kitten or bunny, something he hadn't even thought about since childhood. Truthfully he wouldn't mind having another rabbit for a pet. They were quiet and litter box trainable. Perhaps he could find a way to sneak one into the castle? If anyone found out or asked he could easily claim that it was for research.

Sadly, such simple and mildly entertaining thoughts were to be blasted away as realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Blue eyes peeked out from behind heavy lids as slender fingers softly stirred across his ribs. Zexion froze. This was not a bunny. It was a noisy, insufferable, exasperating, little nymph. And he had been petting her head...

Why was the air so hot? And why was the couch no longer cushiony? Many other hundreds of questions flowed through her foggy mind, but none could be answered. After lifting her upper body slightly, Larxene absentmindedly shook off the hand and the sheet that held her captive and indulged in the cool night air she had been starved of. The Cloaked Schemer grunted. That was his stomach she was digging her elbows into.

With the soft noise of objection, sleepy electric cerulean inevitably locked onto tired steel cobalt in a mix of curiosity, confusion, and amusement. While Number VI anticipated and analyzed the variables and statistics of what was to possibly come out of this, Number XII raised a petite eyebrow, but otherwise was involved in a mental debate with herself as she continued to stare him down challengingly.

Just what would be her next move? Even in her tired state, there were just too many possibilities popping up in her head. Usually when in doubt, there was always scaring or chastising to fall back on. However, a large yawn quickly threw off what little intimidation she might have pulled off, never mind her mussed hair and sleepy expression, dark baggy eyes and all.

Zexion couldn't help but show off a small smirk as their staring contest continued on. Finally, with a roll of her eyes, Larxene dropped her head back down onto his ribs. Sure, she had the ideas and plots, but the drive to pull them off was vastly lacking. A strange, quiet truce had been made, seeing as neither of them was willing to attempt to remove the other. But he wouldn't be getting off that easily.

The Apathetic Princess was certainly not comfortable, or so she pretended. With a snarky grin of her own, she scooted up along the schemer's stomach and chest, earning another 'umph' in reply. The momentary agony ended as she settled her head upon his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. Zexion sighed deeply. Just what was she up to now?

"Next time you pull this, you could at least put a pillow between us or something," she teased, warm breath against his skin. "You're not very comfortable you know." To emphasize her point, a single finger jabbed into his ribs. Almost instantly she found her hand being held captive by his much larger and stronger one. After only one attempt at trying to tug her hand from his, she surrendered. History and tiredness were against her.

"Then you best start gaining some weight for next time as well. You have the boniest elbows. And hands," he added on, proving his point by momentarily squeezing her hand tightly. The young scientist could literally feel a scowl radiating from off of her, which pleased him to no end.

"Hmph," Larxene sounded, unimpressed by his witty come back. "If you weren't so warm, I'd kick you off the couch." Lame, yes, but even on her best and most awake of days she struggled to keep up with the scientist. Curse him and his sharp mind. She loved and hated the challenge that was Zexion.

The resemblance of feeling was mutual.

How ironic. "Hm." Stretching his free hand out, he grabbed the blanket the nymph had thrown off her head and promptly brought it up over her again. Maybe he'd get lucky and, like a bird, she'd fall asleep or at least stop her squawking. Sadly, neither was to be. With another shake of her head the sheet was thrown off, leaving Zexion's neck exposed to the chilly night air.

Again the schemer pulled up the warm material, and again it was thrown off. A frustrated sigh slipped past his lips. "Larxene," he warned in a quiet but stern tone.

"What?" she snapped back, though she knew perfectly well what was the matter. Still, that voice of his always got two things out of her. Besides a well faked temper, it also brought a sense of reluctance to push him any further. Again, experience and knowing he could simply pick her up and dump her arse onto the cold floor told her better.

Zexion continued to wordlessly brood, his visible left eye leering up at the ceiling peering down upon both of them in what must have been a humorous sight. He was waiting for something, for why or what even he did not know, but slowly losing his patience.

"I hate having the covers over my head. It's too hot," she complained in a pitiable, but sleepy murmur. Her small nose trailed along his jaw bone for a second as she shifted under the covers.

The Cloaked Schemer exhaled another exasperated breath before merely closing his eyes. Of the choices at hand, ignoring her seemed to be the less painful and easiest in his currently lazy state. At least he would get his way eventually, perhaps? He'd just have to wait until she...

A warm arm suddenly slunk across his neck, ran smoothly against his cheek, and ended with four fingers and a thumb running through his coveted hair. "There, all better?" a feminine tone purred mockingly into his ear. Larxene grinned mischievously in the darkness.

Indeed, it was all better. Within seconds his once chilly skin began to warm up. Her silky epidermis was far better then any fabric. "Hm. I suppose it will have to do." With that inscrutable remark, Zexion's free arm draped itself across the small of her back. It seemed only fair after all, what with her playing cuddle Number VI all of a sudden. But again, he wasn't about to object. As long as she stayed quiet and didn't physically or mentally try to harm him, things were well.

Too well actually.

A little over seven hours later, a large figure loomed in the artificial light, perplexed by the sight he had discovered. While no one had noticed anything unusual with Larxene's often nonattendance, those who dwelled in the laboratory where quick to pick up on the absence of their youngest member and partial leader. The library had been the fifth place for Lexaeus to check. First had been the far ends of the basements where the storage closets were kept. Second had been the schemer's room, followed by a quick glance of the bathroom. The kitchen, occupied by some of the older members, Xaldin, Vexen, and Saix specifically, wanting to grab a quick lunch before the younger ones appeared to eat everything up, yielded no results.

Of course, it all made sense to Lexaeus now. Zexion couldn't have been in any of those places if he were still quietly snoring on the sofa. At least that answered one question. However, Number V of the Organization wasn't quite sure if he wanted to unravel the other mysteries that now appeared before him. Such as why Zexion had fallen asleep on the couch to begin with, or, even more interestingly, why Larxene was draped over his sleeping form. But wasn't that always the problem with science and life alike? Just when you think you've got one thing figured out, more questions only seem pop up. In this case, the elemental earth wielder decided wisely that he simply didn't want to know.

Bending forward, Lexaeus' large gloved hand settled on the schemer's shoulder. It only took a few light shakes of the older scientist to stir his younger companion into consciousness, as evident by Zexion's fast blinking eyes and disgruntled appearance. Waking up with a face full of light was never a pleasant experience. But lucky for both of them, the Savage Nymph didn't stir.

"Zexion, don't forget about our experiment today. Vexen was upset that you were not present this morning, but thankfully he is making lunch right now and should be in a better humor after he eats," the large brunette spoke quickly in a whisper. Worried dark eyes glanced nervously towards the still sleeping blonde. It was somewhat humorous to see the usually vigilant and edgy Larxene so, dare he say, serene? But he wasn't about to haphazardly doing anything that might shatter the tranquility.

The young scientist released a deep sigh. His currently sluggish mind couldn't decide which was worse concerning this situation. The light in his eyes? Being woken up? Knowing that the others noticed he was missing? Or, was it the strange look he was receiving from a confused Lexaeus— which most likely spawned from Larxene's presence and position on top of him? Alone or compiled, it was all very annoying.

"Lexaeus, what time is it?"

"Sometime around 11:30 in the morning, I believe."

Damn. Calculating the time it would take for him to take a shower and fix something to eat, he wouldn't make it to the lab until around 1pm if he were to get up this instant. But that was also assuming he had the will power to do such a thing and could then avoid the nymph's groggy wrath, as fun as that might be.

After a few silent moments, another weary breath escaped from his chest. "I'll be there by one, one-thirty," Number VI resigned. For the moment he wasn't interested in work or science, not that he'd ever lose his passion for either of the two. Playing with theories and equations in his spare time, whether in his mind or on paper, never got old. But no, right now, his dark room and comfortable bed was all that he wanted. The schemer didn't understand why he was so sleepy, but having to deal with experiments and certain Nobodies day in and day out, he hypothesized, out could be quite draining.

"Alright, I will be sure to tell the others then. Oh, is there anything you might want for lunch?"

"Hm?" Zexion forced his eyes open. He had already started dosing off again. "Just a sandwich; I don't care what kind, as long as it is somewhat palatable."

With a grunt of approval, Lexaeus nodded his head and slowly stepped back. In an awkward imitation of a ballet dancer, the large man attempted to tip toe his way out of the library. Only a slight creak of the door announced his exit.

Silence flooded into the library once more and droned on as long as it took for Zexion to shut is eyes. He was dosing off and he knew it, and yet he was less then willing to do anything to prevent it.

"Well isn't that nice— others making your meals for you. Wish someone would make me a sandwich."

'Figures, that little faker.' While he wasn't surprised by the nymph's trickery, he couldn't decide whether to thank or despise her for waking him up, again. "Perhaps if you were more decent to others?" Zexion sardonically mumbled.

"What? I haven't killed anyone yet, have I? And I do those stupid chores, sometimes," Larxene proudly boasted. For her at least, they were quite the accomplishments.

"Larxene, you have sent three members to bed rest for weeks on four separate accounts, been banned from the kitchen indefinitely, and just when was the last time you cleaned, took out the trash, or even went shopping for groceries? Honestly, I don't see why the Organization puts up with you and your antics. It's deplorable really."

Bone agonizingly rammed bone. Larxene's elbows dug into Zexion's ribs as she lifted herself up enough to show off her glaring cold eyes. "Well you put up with me last night! Care to explain that one genius? Because we both know how useless and incompetent I am!" the Savage Nymph spat spitefully above the schemer's pain filled hiss.

"Larxene." The schemer's single word sentence spoke hidden volumes. By way of his strained tone he threatened her, apologized, and announced without embarrassment that she had succeeded in doing him harm, all at the same time. Despite any haughty male tendencies that pinched at the back of his mind, Number VI knew that it was in his best interest to cut the wires that triggered the princess' explosive tendencies before it was too late.

Distractions usually worked well.

Scooting his legs over the side of the couch, with a slight grunt at the strain of lifting not only himself but another, Zexion subtly slipped an arm under the young woman's knees and behind her upper back. Without giving her the time to resist, or even completely comprehend what exactly was going on, the scientist stood up. An amusing yelp echoed in his ears, inducing a small, sly smile of his own to emerge.

Expecting to be dumped on the ground, Larxene's body stiffened, with the exception of her arms which wrapped behind the schemer's neck and clung on for dear nonexistent life. Eyes shut, her face scrunched and buried into the black fabric of his coat, a moment passed, and then another. At last, meekly and inquisitively, a single blue eye slit open. How dare he! Her grip relaxed, the nymph parted her scowling lips to speak, only to be interrupted...

"Sometimes it's nice to feel the warmth of another," Zexion smoothly interrupted, his voice quiet but resolute.

Silence. The nymph gaped like a guppy out of its tank, with petite furrowed eyebrows. Just how was Somebody, or a Nobody in this case, supposed to respond to something like that? Especially a Nobody like her? Sadly she would never find out.

Hungry, needing a shower, and tired of staring at her open trap, with a simple twist of his body Zexion turned back towards the couch and dropped Larxene onto its black cushions, earning another squeaky yelp. A black portal bloomed open behind him. Two different shades of blue stared each other down until darkness consumed the Cloaked Schemer whole.

Refreshed from his shower, Zexion walked into the kitchen. An empty, crumb laden plate greeted him from the counter top. His eyebrow twitched in agitation.

Minutes later in the lab, Lexaeus looked to the door as its creaky hinges complained from use. "Ah, Zexion, did Larxene give you your sandwich? Was it good?"

The schemer could only shake his head in mix amusement and mocked exasperation.

"Delectable."

Please feel free to critique my horrible English writing and grammar skills. I know I kinda suck. x /