Author's Note: Yes I am well aware that my other works are in need of total revamps and updates at this point in time... But this little oneshot was hard to resist. Not to mention the severe lack of love for Luxord.

Without further ado, on with the fic.

The sun stretched warm, lazy fingers between and over the buildings in Twilight Town. It gave a glow to reds and oranges and yellows that were so prominent in the structures, causing the odd mix in of other colors to stand out. Soon enough the residents would rise and begin their day. But as the light reached the Old Mansion, it revealed its sole occupant already hard at work. Likely, she had not even noticed the pass of time here in her enchanted studio... Or the looming shadow just in front of her door. The corridor to darkness opened to reveal a tall, cloaked figure of a man. As the portal closed behind him, he pushed back his hood and revealed his handsome features already sporting a knowing smirk.

Before him sat his intended 'target', her back to him and seemingly deaf to all but her muse. Slender fingers carefully held a red colored-pencil as it moved over the sketchpad in familiar strokes. It first drew the outline before filling in the blank between with studious detail. She was almost finished when a shiver tickled the fine baby hair on her neck before racing down the length of her spine. There was no other warning before she found her pad snatched from her grip. "Hey–!"

"My, I do think you have improved." the English drawl extended the first word and ended on a note she couldn't be certain was sincere. It froze her in place, colored-pencil dangling in her slackened grip for a few seconds before slipping through. Naminé's dread–heavy arm was not given a chance to fumble for it, as a black gloved hand appeared to do so. Her vivid blues flickered to the palm that cradled her tool, holding it aloft for her to take. He noted the hesitation before she did so. A rumble in his throat hinted at his amusement as it was set down on the pristine white table.

The matching walls and floor were thrown off by his splash of black, and even the dozens of pictures littering the snowy landscape seemed unsettled by his sudden appearance. Their stark difference showed in this... Yet he cared not, and her refusal to look at him thus far didn't provide her with any of this information. A quiet tsk filled the still air before he finally gave more than a cursory glance to the picture in progress. As expected, it showed the figure of a boy just entering his teens. Though he had not personally met Sora, the younger blonde seemed to have captured the life in those bright eyes. His own icy hues flickered away as he rounded the chair she sat in, a smooth glide bringing him to her side.

With more care than she obviously expected, he set the pad down in front of her. It gave her more courage than she truly felt, and so the Pacific met the Arctic.

"Would you say your bet paid off?" his now free right hand gave a sweeping gesture to the room and her drawings. "Is your ivory cage better than being amongst us?" there was no accusation in his voice or words, and still she flinched. Nearly a year away from the Organization, but she had changed little...

"What I'm doing now fixes the damage you made me do."

Or not.

From his lips tumbled as true a laugh as a Nobody could expel, "Had I a heart, it would be broken." The mocking underline was just as hollow. Her words were not aimed at him. For the orders to tug at the threads of Sora's mind had not come from him, but from Marluxia. And though the target of her feisty comeback was not himself, her kind nature caused a naked spark of guilt. She looked away from him then as he envied her ability to feel. Truly feel. As though she were a Somebody still. All he and the others possessed were their memories, from which they drew for reactions and the phantom sensation of emotions they caused. Such thoughts were carefully tucked away though, behind the perfected poker face that was his mask.

Turning his head, he searched for–Ah... There. A few paces at his back he procured the only other chair in the room and pulled it closer to where she sat. In the next moment he was perched upon the edge. Given the small size of the chair–which was perfect for someone like her–and his height, it very nearly looked ridiculous. If not for his dignified air and posture it would have. As he leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees, leather encased fingers twining, he rested his chin where they met. The platinum blond hairs there fanned over the black material.

"Tell me... What is so awful about wanting a heart?" again, there was no sting to Luxord's words, but a genuine enough interest to know. She did not meet his gaze again, instead looking to the spread on the table and her work in progress. He watched her trace the lines of Sora's face. The motion suggested a familiarity, bringing to him the conclusion that she had likely done it many times since DiZ had put her here. Or perhaps even before, when she had been lodged at Castle Oblivion and tasked with unraveling the memories of the boy.

After a few moments of not uncomfortable silence passed as she seemed to gather what she wanted to say. "There's nothing wrong with it. I–..." her soft voice failed her, trailing off. A visible swallow cleared whatever obstructed her speaking, "The way you go about it... That's what's awful." A tilt of his head followed that curious statement, and then his reply "You did not like the hand we dealt you, so you gambled it away for a new one." Posture shifting, he leaned back into the chair. In his hand appeared a special deck of cards and printed on the back was the Nobody symbol, matching that which dangled from his ear.

It was with an expertise born in this body and not that he shuffled them with a single flick. Another caused all but five of them to disappear. Through the entire small display he noticed her gaze rapt upon it, causing the passive line of his mouth to curl in a smirk. "But are you so certain of your play and that your mysterious handler will reward you for it in the end?" For the first time in the last five or so minutes she locked eyes with him, an almost serene smile on her lips. "I don't do it for the reward, Luxord."

'She remembers? Lucky me.'

The wry thought didn't touch his lilting response, "No. No, I don't suppose you do. Though I dare say waking the boy would be enough, hmm?" Ever the open book, he saw the surprise pass over her young face.

His gaze flickered up to a specific picture hanging on the wall behind her. A drawing of a boy with hair of spun gold pointing up in spikey waves and a black cloak not at all unlike his own. Without allowing her the chance to respond, he pressed onward. "Or," the word drew out, rolling from his silver tongue like dark honey "Is it the traitor you seek?" Her shoulders drew up, a palm moving to shock-parted lips. If nothing else she couldn't claim her day had been dull. Paired with that thought was how quickly indignation flared in those too-innocent blues, she earned another amused smirk. All before the expected defense was launched at him.

"He was just doing what he felt was right!"

Silence followed the declaration, where neither looked away. The smirk fell away to passiveness once more, and with a flick of his thumb the five cards in his hand lined up to float in mid air. Each fanning out with the backs facing her. A wave of his index and middle fingers brought out the other forty-seven out with them. "Choose," was the encouragement, not at all a reply. The girl was a good sport though, and played along. Plucking the seventeenth card closest to the middle, she turned it around and looked at it. All the while he never broke his intent stare... It would have been cheating, if he had he peeked. "Now, place it wherever you like." she followed that instruction as well.

Once her card was among the others he waved the same hand and they shuffled as expertly as they had when in his physical hold. "Perhaps," he finally allowed, snatching her attention away from the little show. There was no further elaboration though, as he lifted his right leg to fold over his left knee and very slightly rolled the booted foot. It was a tell, much as the intelligent glimmer of thought in arctic hues. Yet this time it was she who beat him to the subject change, "Why are you here?" her soft voice rung out without a hint of fear... But she didn't fool him. Not even a little. After being freed from the malevolent watch of XI and XII, condescension aside, this new prison must have looked the lesser of two evils. Luxord could not imagine that she would wish to trade back, no matter if her next jailor were less inclined to threaten her nonexistence or to keep her locked away forever.

There is no hesitation in the grin that proceeds his answer, and it is positively roguish with a flash of perfect pearls, "Simply put, I was bored."

It would seem that day was one for surprises–with mostly him doing said surprising–because that had clearly not been what she was expecting. In the next moment her own mouth stretched with a smile and a laugh that she demurely hid behind curled fingers. The sound was like tinkling bells, and it tugged at the memories from his Other. Though it had been some time since he last experienced such an occurrence, he hid it well with his present grin. So well, even the perceptive little artist smiling at him betwixt color stained fingers suspected nothing was amiss. Head tilting just so, he raised a hand to first wave and stack the cards all back together. Once that was done and they suddenly became one, single card, he moved to stroke the fine hairs on his chin and around his mouth.

"Was this your choice?"

The card flipped around then, and her reply was written across her face. With awe and the same delighted smile she reached out to take the card into her hand, "Yes. How did you...?" His grin turned playful, smaller as he halted his motions to wag the forefinger back and forth slowly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk... A great magician never reveals his secrets." Following that, he stood up and bowed appropriately, grin morphing to a barely there smile that cued her own to copy. "That will be all for today, I think."

Curiously, a glint of something akin to hope flitted through her gaze. She appeared to quickly consider something before speaking up, "Does that mean you'll visit me again?" And that, more than anything, showed the loneliness that she never gave actual voice to. The memory tug from before returned, and he inwardly cradled the precious, suppressed, images that drew a vague picture of a past best left. It made him softer for just a moment. Taking away some of the aura of mystery in his tone as he replied "Perhaps." With a gentleman's flair, he took hold of the chair he sat in and returned it to the spot at the end of the table. The girl remained seated, absently toying with the red colored-pencil of before. Behind him a portal to the corridors of darkness appeared. Seeming to realize it just now, she picked up the card she had chosen earlier.

"You forgot this."

"No, I didn't." his swift reply revives her smile.

As the swirls of black, blue, and purple moved like harmless flames, he gave a respectful tip of his head, "Naminé. Until we meet again." Facing the portal, he stepped inside. Her reply followed him, just loud enough for him to hear before the light was pushed away and the dark welcomed him back.

"Hopefully soon... Luxord."

Author's Note: This was even more fun to write than originally anticipated, and a little longer than intended from the initial plan. As it stands this is the only installation that I intend on, but if by chance inspiration or demand needs supply, I may just make this a small series. Luxord and Naminé have always been two of my absolute favorites, and I think they make for an interesting pair and dynamic. In all honesty, I really like the idea of them being friends, perhaps even like a two unit family.

Leave your thoughts if you so desire. Constructive criticism welcome, flames will be used to keep Marluxia in line.