A/N: Oh, did you miss this piece of loveliness, darlings? I KNEW IT. This chapter took abotu forever and five days to finish, and at first I was going to hold off until I finished chapter two of Yeah Boy & Doll Face, and wrote that AxelRiku shottie. Then I thought, "Eh, whatever. Does it really matter?" I have come to the conclusion that no, it does not.

IV. A Spot of Bother

Don't even know what I'm trying to prove

It's a shame, but you know that it's true

My one regret is you, and everything

That you've put me through

-Love, Robot "Phonecalls & Faceplants"

Contrary to popular belief, Selphie and Leon weren't the awful friends that they sometimes made themselves out to be. Selphie had been known to admit on more than one occasion that she cared very deeply for Axel, and her carefully constructed system of relentless badgering and exploiting him at any given chance was a symbol of the love she had for him. Even Leon confessed to "not hating him" at one particular gathering (the fact that this was only brought about by a severe lack of sleep and underage drinking is totally irrelevant). Honestly, they thought that their relationship with Axel was of a caring variety, and that they were doing their best to help him grow as a person.

So, when Axel phoned Selphie at approximately 10: 45 p.m., she restrained the urge to screech irritably into the receiver and said instead, "Hullo, this is me. Is that you?"

"It is!" Axel said jubilantly on his end of the phone. "Selphie, I need your help like whoa. I'm at a two-way street, which direction should I take?"

Now, a bad friend would hang up the phone or mutter a long-list of anatomically impossible suggestions of just what he could do with that two-way street, but Selphie is a good friend. This is why she twisted around in her blanket and prodded the brunet beside her awake for help in aiding Axel's decision. Upon being awakened, Leon grunted, "Tell him to stop breathing. That's the direction he ought to take."

Selphie turned back to her phone. "Leon says to take the left one."

"Oh, okay. Hey, why's Leon at your house? Are you doin' something diii-iii-rty?"

Silence.

"Um, Selphie?"

More silence.

"I was kidding, yanno. Um…"

There was an odd choking noise, a harsh whisper that may or may not have been, "Hang up, NOW." and the dial tone introduced itself to Axel's ear canal.

--

"Mom, I don't know if you've noticed, but your sister is a madwoman. She locked me out of the house! And it's really, really cold. And dark. I can't see anything, and my flashlight stopped working and it looks really, really sketchy around here and my rape whistle totally died just now and—"

"Axey? Is that you?"

"No."

"Don't get smart with me, young man!"

"Would you prefer I get stupid, Mom?"

--

The world was conspiring against him; of this he was rather certain.

His so-called "best friends" seemed even more bent out of shape than usual, and even his mother had failed to be appropriately maternal and loving, instead opting to snarl, "Don't be cheeky, Axey!" before blowing a kiss to the receiver and hanging up on him. His aunt had kicked him out of the house for committing an offense that hadn't even occurred, and he was out in the cold, shivering in his neon purple sleeping bag (otherwise known as the Fruitiest Object Ever) and completely lost.

Admittedly, the last bit was his fault. He had wrapped up in the sleeping bag and hopped off in a Towering Fury that could match his aunt's, deciding that the best course of action would be to run away. Yes, he would run far, far away…and wouldn't Crazy Aunt Tifa be teary when she realized that her beloved nephew had flown the coop? And it would be all her fault! Hers!

Axel could practically see the funeral scene laying itself out for him now.

Rain threw itself against the windows of the church, making it look particularly dark and depressing. Axel lay in his casket while his mother sobbed over his dead body and moaned, "Oh, Axey! I'm so sorry for not listening to your pleas against Tifa's madness! You were right, she's completely crackers—and I never gave you that raise in your allowance either! Oh, darling, I am sooooo soooo-ooo-rrry!"

Crazy Auntie Tifa yowled her disagreement from the back of the church, where she was wrapped up in her straitjacket next to Demyx. He was in the process of spilling coffee down his jeans and gibbering like the idiot that he truly was.

Kairi came up next and promptly threw herself on Axel's chest, sobbing loudly. She had to be forcibly removed by Leon and Selphie, who managed to stop and convey their regrets before wrestling his sister away from his dead, dead, (so dead!) body.

And then there was Demyx's girlfriend, rising from the back of the church like the angel that she is, clutching a handful of lilies to her heaving bosom. She lifted up her lace veil, and pouted her lips at his corpse. Into his ear, she whispered, "Watch where you're going, stupid!"

Axel jerked himself out of his mock-funeral and gaped. Eh?

"I said, watch it. Honestly, what kind of moron closes his eyes when walking? GAWD."

He'd never been much of religious person, but checking out his surroundings made him quite aware that Someone Upstairs liked him enough to bestow a gift upon his unfortunate person.

Before him stood The Hottie with a Body (otherwise known as Demyx's main squeeze) from the past afternoon, wearing an oversized cardigan and a frown. She was shining a flashlight in his face and tapping the underside of her flip-flops against the ground, gazing at him expectantly. When Axel proceeded to ogle her, she prompted, "…So?"

Axel gaped. OhMyGodShe'sTalkingToMe!

The Blonde Beauty sighed, and Axel immediately busied himself with staring at her open mouth. The lower lip seemed to be fuller than the top one, and the flesh shimmered with some sort of indescribable sheen. Lip gloss, maybe. Or Chapstick. He'd be totally chill with that, he loved Chapstick. Especially on her lips.

"Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops. It's late, and you've been standing outside my house for the past half-hour, humming and smiling." Miss Lovely snarled, poking him rather roughly in the chest with her mammoth-sized flashlight. In the five seconds that Axel didn't respond, she tacked on, "Sometime this year would be grand, okay? That would be just peachy keen." And then, she got all up in Axel's face, practically dislocating her neck to look up into his eyes. Trying to be so, so intimidating. Trying to act all bad-cop with the not-really creeper on her lawn.

Her aim might've been to instill terror in him, but Axel felt nothing short of infatuation.

"Most people start things with their names. In case you didn't know."

"My name? Uh." There was a terrifying moment in which the hem of his Delectable Darling's (he'd have to learn her name soon…coming up with catchy compliments was both hard and distracting) sweater shifted up the side of her hip, revealing a sliver of smooth skin and nothing more.

Axel's brain ceased to function, and he retaliated with the impressive reply of, "Wuh-huh?"

"Your name, stupid, your name. I can't just call you Mister Creeper, can I? I mean, I guess I could, but that's rather rude." The blonde continued, rolling her eyes. She gestured wildly—and rather uselessly, but as this movement was currently baring her right shoulder, Axel was so not complaining--- and gave this tiny, exasperated 'hmph!' that blew several strands of hair up and over the bridge of her nose. Axel kept up a rather impressive depiction of idiocy, opting to ogle her person before realizing that his "beloved" was approximately .375 seconds away from either calling the police or maiming him.

He ransacked his mind viciously for his name, but then the girl went and blinked—and oh god were her eyelashes thick, and they cast the tiniest shadows on her cheekbones---and he lost the battle.

"…Edgar?" Axel proposed, shrugging. He went through another nano-second of mind-searching for his surname and said triumphantly, "Warner!"

The blonde stared. Probably amused. Most likely not.

"What's yours?" Axel asked, beaming broadly at the shorter teenager. He had successfully come up with a name (even if it wasn't his own, and a small niggling feeling at the back of his head told him that it wasn't even remotely close), and was now managing to uphold a decent conversation. Axel smiled to himself and thought smugly, I am sooo awesome.

The girl extended a hand. Axel held it gently, not wanting to hurt such a dainty looking appendage, but she apparently had no such qualms; the girl captured it in a rather masculine grip that made him just a tiny bit scared. God, he could feel the calluses on her palm. When was the last time he met a girl with freaking calluses?

Of course, there was Kairi from her gymnastics-oriented past and her odd, martial-arts obsessed friend with the awkward haircut—whatsername, Olette---, but they weren't really girls. They just happened to be sacks of blood and flesh equipped with ovaries.

But from the handshake he was receiving, he didn't suppose the Blonde Beauty was exactly the paradigm of all things feminine either.

She grinned; a broad, rapid unfurling of teeth and lips. It was decidedly boyish looking, and would've looked awkward on any face but hers.

"My name is Potts. Roxas Potts."

--

Back in the city, Selphie was rolling around fretfully in her bed. Occasionally, she tugged at the blankets and sheets, twisting them up and around her body, under her chin, and sometimes into her mouth.

Needless to say, Leon did not appreciate her thrashing.

"I'll cut off your legs." He mumbled blearily. He attempted to halt her movement by throwing an arm over her body, but she was more or less ignored him, opting to bat him away before suddenly bursting into tears.

"Jesus!" Leon squealed, in a manner that was neither masculine nor cool-sounding. After peering at the Selphie closely to make sure she hadn't recognized the noise as being from him, he patted her shoulder. "Uh. There, there."

And what did he get for his efforts? A watery glare and a sniffled, "Shut up, Leon! GAWD!" Leon scowled. This whole "be kind to a friend when they are in need" thing was highly over-rated.

"You're so stupid." Selphie ranted at him, pummeling his thigh with her small fists. "This is your entire fault! What if Axey's been abducted because of your—stupidity? GAWD, Leon, why'd you have to go and get so STUPID?"

For someone whose intelligence was being insulted at 11:17 p.m., Leon thought he was being rather kind when he replied softly, "…What you jabbering about, woman?"

Selphie, however, did not appreciate the sentiment and proceeded to clobber him over the head with one of her stuffed bears. "Us, Leon! Or more specifically, you! You made me hang up on Axey-waxey when he was in a spot of bother! He could've been assaulted and battered and kidnapped!"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," soothed Leon, patting the brunette's shoulder. "Axel is so ugly, nobody wants to catch a sideways glimpse of him, let alone go through the ordeal of abducting him."

She glowered at him.

"I mean," he backtracked hastily, "that he's fine. Uh. He's just…swell."

Selphie worried her bottom lip and fisted her hands in the sheets. Sighing, she whimpered, "I'd feel loads better if I could just call him…" and cast a longing glance at their shared pillow, where Leon's Motorola lay next to her stuffed animal collection.

Now, Leon was not a cruel person. He had played prey to Selphie's whims many times in the past, had even indulged the girl in her favorite past-times (which included, but were not limited to: conducting tea parties, shopping at the mall—which may or may not include purchasing clothing---, and watching exercise videos). He was even prone to engaging in the occasional tête-à-tête over Selphie's pathetic excuse for pound cake and sugar-free/zero-calorie/none-of-the-good-stuff-in-it lemonade while she sobbed and complained about school, Axel, or her past fling that had called her up one day and made "a freakin' booty call, I swear!"

(The last one had included Leon paying a visit to the aforementioned fling's house with a wooden bat, but that was neither here nor there.)

Over their years of friendship, he had held her hair back as she puked into a toilet (the aftereffects of an unfortunate house party that Axel had staged, obsessed about, and then promptly forgotten), wrangled with her ex-boyfriends, and defended her from sadistic bullies and the occasional touchy-feely Chemistry teacher. He had even spent time helping her color-coordinate her outfits when she went through her "OMG-I-simply-must-wear-the-same-color!" phase.

But now, their friendship was finally being put to the test (although there was that one time when they tried to make an indie film and Leon had found himself in a leather cat suit) after all these years.

This was it. This was what it all came down to.

Selphie slid another glance towards the Motorola and said sweetly, "…May I?" She widened her eyes at him and batted her eyelashes, lower lip wobbling dangerously. Must underneath her plea contained a vicious promise of, Or I'll slit your throat.

Leon choked on his own saliva. "…Sure, go ahead." He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry. He struggled to hold back the urge to jump the petite girl as she happily punched in Axel's number, bopping her head along to the call-waiting music. There was a small clicking noise, and then:

"Hey, you've reached Master Axel. I'm currently wallowing in despair so I can't come to the phone right now…oh, look, there's a nice ditch only a small distance away! I think I'll go lie down in it, maybe I can get run over. HOPEFULLY."

Selphie screamed and threw the phone at the wall.

--

Hayner was in the middle of his daily moping routine. He was just finishing up his hourly internal weeping when his phone vibrated; signifying that Kairi or "Bitchface" as he sometimes affectionately (and sometimes not) was sending him a text message.

SOS! Her anxious text said. Mission: KHOP Formation Fort Tifa. Attack of the Blonde Bimbo/ Sexy Older Guy.

Hayner's lip curled. Honestly, he thought they'd grown out of the KHOP Formation thing when they were like, twelve. They were going to be sophomores soon; Kairi couldn't be flying into a tizzy over every girl who made a move on the current apple of her eye. Well, he guessed she could, but it wouldn't be cool, having to calm down a raging Kairi every six months when she spotted some decent looking guy.

Almost instantly, Kairi sent another message.

PS: know Seifer's in France. Don't pretend u have stuff 2 do.

Hayner scrambled for his phone's touch-pad, but Kairi was quicker, sending over responses faster than he could blink.

Ur prbly just being lame & moping & yelling ppl.

He winced.

STFU, KAI. Gawd. Coming.

;-) Good boy.

--

At his home, or his "crib" as was his wont, Pence was currently entering Phase Three of the Gaming Stupor. His eyes had started to glaze over from climbing to the seemingly endless levels presented to him by The Heartless Kingdom, and he was only being kept awake by the vast supply of Mountain Dew and Twinkies. He had attempted propping his eyelids up with toothpicks but upon stabbing himself in the eye, realized that it'd be better (if not healthier) to chug Mountain Dew and Monster every twenty minutes. This might have seemed strange to some, but this was practically Pence's religion.

So, really, there was no call for Pence's garbled list of profanities when Kairi called him.

"Pencey, baby!" she trilled into the phone. "How ya doin'?"

Pence snarled. "Level 55."

"That's GREAT. Anyways, Team KHOP is meeting at Auntie Tifa's house ASAP, kay-kay?

"Level 55."

"Keen, aren't you? Hey, where's Olette? She's at your house, isn't she—unless you pissed her off again and she's at the dojo, leaving you girlfriend-less and alone and being comforted by Hostess and your video games?"

There was a droning sound as Pence dropped his controller and the game ended, flashing its merry transcript of 'YOU LOSE'. "Geh," he said furiously into the receiver, overcome with the loss of Level 55 (Level 55!) and that Kairi was picking the moment when he was Drowning In His Sorrow to poke fun at the fact that eh and Olette had broken up. Again.

"Glad to hear it, Big P." Kairi said approvingly. She made a cooing noise into the phone that was most likely meant to be affectionate and hung up.

Pence bit savagely into his Twinkie.

--

Olette, unlike the other barbarians that she was friends with, was a prompt girl. She was the first to hand in homework and exams, the kind of person who works on the year-end assignment immediately after being handed it and turns it in three months early. She was polite and earnest; the type of girl that adults imagined would rub off on their own rebellious, foul-mouthed children. She was known to be mild-mannered and even-tempered, courteous even to telemarketers and salesmen.

At the moment, this was not one of those times.

"What do you want?" she snapped into her phone, aiming a roundhouse kick at the unfortunate dummy. The dummy's head snapped back, and she noted with grim satisfaction that if it had been a certain person (like, say, Pence), his jugular vein would've exploded. "I'm busy."

"Jesus, O. Are you fighting?"

Olette gave the dummy a vicious upper-cut to the nose. The fabric began to fray. "None of your business, Kai. I only fight when I'm upset. And I—" she paused to execute a spinning hook-kick that caused a neat rip in the center of the dummy's chest. "—am not upset."

"Suuuuuure." There was a pause, and then: "You wanna come over to Tifa's? Like, soon-ish? Preferably within the next forty-eight hours?"

"No." Olette sneered, wiping perspiration off her forehead with the back of her hand. "I don't want to visit you. Ever."

"Great! Earliest train leaves tomorrow at ten-fifteen. Hayner's coming too, so make sure you meet up with him, okay?" Kairi babbled. Her voice was starting to contain that high-pitched quality it got whenever she felt she needed to lie desperately, and Olette questioned, "Is he coming?"

He was emboldened, capitalized, underlined, the whole nine yards. It was a serious no-no to put Pence and Olette in the same room when they'd had one of their furious arguments. Expensive things would be broken, parental figures would be angered, and insults would be had all around. The last time Kairi had tried to reconcile the pair, she had been chewed out by a very irritated Olette, who didn't appreciate her efforts whatsoever.

Kairi gulped. "No?"

And there was a god because Olette chirped, "Oh, okay! See you there!" and hung up, humming happily.

Back in the middle of nowhere (otherwise known as Tifa's house), Kairi burrowed her face into the pillow and groaned. She was so dead.

Will Kairi die by the hands of the irrationally angry Olette? Is Axel going to bunk over at Roxas's to shield himself from the evilness and sinister-ness of the night? Are Leon and Selphie REALLY going out, or is it all a hoax? Will Demyx have a showdown with Axel, complete with bad Western background music and crappy puns? Probably not, but we can dream, can't we?

You know the drill, kids. Review and the world makes itself just that much brighter. Not your's, maybe, but mine certainly is. Brighter, that is.