Axel swaps his gaze from this morning's Hot Topic security footage on the desktop computer to the current security feed.
On the sales floor, Aqua's returning from her break, her black ballet flats dragging across linoleum. She pauses by the piercing displays to offer Roxas a bite off her soft pretzel, before ducking behind the register to shove a set of metallic pink keys into a white, studded handbag. Rising, she flicks her middle finger up in response to some stray comment from Vanitas.
Vanitas grins back, sharklike, before he returns to helping their single customer fish a backpack shaped like a Ninja Turtle shell (Leonardo—a subpar choice) from a rack near the ceiling using a large metal hook that Axel frankly does not feel safe knowing Vanitas has access to.
Axel raises the walkie talkie to his lips and taps a button on the side, amused by the way if startles Roxas from his crouch a few feet from the register. Scrambling behind the counter, Roxas pauses to adjust the checkerboard patterned slide escaping his foot before nabbing the radio from its cradle. Then he straightens, glancing around to ensure no one saw him tripping over himself.
"Hey Roxas," Axel purrs through a smirk, "this is your conscience speaking."
Roxas glances toward the ceiling, processing, and then gives a slow, satisfying smile. "Hey, conscience." The words are slow, quiet.
Is it the radio or is he whispering back?
"It's been a while." Roxas rubs his eyes and drags weary fingers down to tug at his cheek, hipster glasses slipping slightly down his nose.
At the private moment, Axel opts to tear his eyes from the camera. He ignores the compulsion he feels to tug at Roxas' cheek himself in the near distant future.
"Wish you'd chimed in sooner."
The security video replays in Axel's head. Roxas effortlessly taking Vanitas down. The smile slipping from Vanitas' face replaced with shock and a hint of respect.
"Why," Axel wheedles, too knowing, maybe, but fuck it, he does know, "didn't do something you regret, did ya?"
There's a long pause. Axel peeks at the security feed again. Roxas' spine seems straighter, though his back's propped against the counter and his head is down, eyes likely shut. Axel fancies he's contemplating offering him the truth.
"I pushed my brother off a dock yesterday."
Well shit. Axel chokes a bit, then presses the button so Roxas will think it's radio static.
Not what he'd been expecting, but a hell of a lot more interesting. Almost makes up for Roxas' lie of omission, though Axel knows it's smart of Roxas to keep a lid on his little scuffle.
Still, he decides to be diplomatic about it. "Probably not your finest moment, there, Roxas."
"He's fine. Swims like a merman." Roxas bats a hand dismissively, though he has no idea Axel can see it. "He called me chubby, so I had no choice."
Axel hates the tension that mars Roxas' face, like he might actually be considering this absurd notion. He watches Roxas sliding his shirt up to pinch at a bronze, well-defined abdomen.
Axel snorts, his throat feeling unusually dry, wondering if Roxas' brother has always had such severe vision problems—realizing Roxas really is that badass. "You serious? I take it back. You made the right call. You're…"
Deadass skinny? Ripped? Petite? Angelic? Gorgeous? A ray of fucking sunshine.
"Not."
Roxas chuckles back, the sound remarkably light and fluid even through the shitty radio. "You're not very good at this conscience thing, Axel."
"Nah," Axel rubs at the back of his neck, turning from the screen again, thumbing the crescent moon shaped charm on one of Saïx's bracelets, forgotten on the desk, "not my strong suit. Speaking of, would you send Aqua on back, my good buddy?" His switch to an insincere, lighter tone does not go unnoticed.
"Aqua?" He can hear the surprise and… that's not hurt is it? … in Roxas' voice. "Uh, sure, yeah, hang on a sec."
"Thanks, babe."
He watches Roxas go rigid for a second before he sighs, returns the phone to its cradle, and glances around for Aqua like a man who's been caught half asleep.
Huh.
"Axel?" Aqua toes her way into the back room, holding the door open, like she hopes she can get this over with quickly. Cute. "What is this about?"
"How do I put this delicately?" Axel spins slowly in his chair to face her, like he's a heavily ringed mob boss smoking a cigar. There should be some kind of cat purring on his lap with a scrunched-up face and a holier than thou stare.
The eyes tracing paths across his face seem wary.
"You're fired, Aqua."
"I'm…" Aqua blinks back, almost dropping the remainder of her soft pretzel entirely, one hand going white knuckled against the door frame. "That was not delicate."
"Eh," Axel squeezes his knee, Saïx's bracelet cool where he's slipped it onto his wrist, "yeah, sorry."
She tilts her head, examining his expression, her dark blue brows lowering. "You're joking."
"Yeah, fuck. I can't even keep a straight face." Axel cackles, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Gonna need more practice if I'm going to lay it on Vanitas, huh?" He begins to rotate the desk chair away from her again to check on the brat, but Aqua darts forward, grabs the chair arm to whirl him back.
"Wait. What?"
"Vanitas," Axel repeats, his eyes narrowing, wondering where the confusion is coming from, how she didn't see this coming. "Vanitas is fired."
"You're…you can't…!" Aqua grasps at the air, stammers, volume rising. This time Axel doesn't smile.
Christ. This had better work.
Realization flashes in her eyes. She retreats to the door and shuts it. As she returns to Axel's side at the office desk, she raises her pretzel to take a contemplative bite. "You saw the tape, then."
Axel nods, jerking a thumb back to the computer. "You know, when Saïx asked me to check in on you hooligans, I figured I'd catch you, like, dancing in the aisles and eating all the SweeTarts and tell him I didn't see anything. But instead I find Roxas and Vanitas making like a pair of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots. That's a bit harder to ignore."
She blanches, charcoal-lined lip jutting out to reveal pink. "You're telling me that fight was Vanitas' fault?"
He opens his palm toward the computer again, can feel his own frown lines deepen. "Cameras don't lie."
"Shit." She sweeps pointed, glossy black, manicured nails through blue bangs, "I had a feeling, but I really hoped—"
"Exactly!" Axel interrupts, hands clapping together, and she scowls at his enthusiasm, which makes him feel a little like his mother never loved him. "You're the only one working in this godforsaken store that gives a damn whether or not Vanitas gets fired. And that is, of course, including Vanitas."
His eyes stray to the nearby wall of employee lockers. Most of their surfaces have been layered with friendly post-its, graffiti, and stickers, but Vanitas' stands blanker than even Saïx's is.
"That's..." her voice fades, following his gaze, fingers sweeping down through her bob, "probably true."
Axel shrugs, tone amenable, "I mean, to some degree, I get it. He's your housemate," he offers with one hand, "you need rich Uncle Xemnas to pay his rent," he continues with the other. "I guess I wouldn't want him fired either."
Aqua rolls her eyes, and then waggles her pretzel at him. "It's not all about the money, Axel. He's my friend. I don't want to see him give up again. He needs to work through this."
Axel's definitely not going to let her elaborate on this tragic backstory business she's trying to dredge up. Vanitas has always been a dick, and now he's a dick who almost punched Roxas. End of story.
But Axel nods so she'll stop talking to him like he just told Demyx Santa's not real. "Fine, whatever. I can work with that."
"What do you mean 'work with that'?" She lowers the pretzel a bit, her other hand resting on her hip as she tilts her head to reevaluate the lanky red-head, stretching his legs out straight and crossing his ankles. "Axel…I don't understand. If you've made up your mind, you've watched the tape, why call me back here all?"
Axel folds his hands in his lap and the sun and moon charms on Saïx's bracelet slide together. "A lot of people pretend they like Vanitas. You, Luxord, Demyx…um." He pauses, closes his eyes, mentally running through a list of employees. "Okay, 'a lot' was an exaggeration."
His cat eyes flick open. "Point is: I wanted to make sure you really meant it, because as much as it pains me to say it, I can't fire his ass. And if you don't want him fired, then whatever you saw, you need to unsee it." He draws a couple fingers to his temple and offers a mocking smile. "Got that memorized?"
She stares for a second, processing, and Axel, figuring he better speed things along, spins back around to face the computer, minimizing the security feed and pulling open a folder he's stumbled upon previously, labeled Employee Records. He's prompted to enter a password. Delightful.
The pretzel slaps into Axel's shoulder and salt sprinkles down the front of his black tee. "Why?" Aqua says in a voice like he'd missed the first time she said it. "Because you're afraid of what Xemnas will do to Saïx? But you have video evidence. Even Xemnas can't ignore that."
Aqua's such a martyr she's telling him he should fire Vanitas? Sweet Jesus.
"Because." Axel's teeth dig into his lower lip, more sharply than intended, as he keys in a third attempt at the password—two Hot Topic favorites and one of Saïx's regulars. The program locks him out for twenty minutes. Delightful. "Because Vanitas isn't the only one Saïx would fire."
"You think he'd fire us?" Aqua steps back as he swerves in his chair and rises, abruptly several inches above her rather than several feet below.
He half scoff-half sneers, sidestepping her, approaching Saïx's pristine filing cabinet, squatting between the desk and lockers. "No, sweetie."
He tugs at the third drawer, and she follows him over, obviously about to make a fuss, so he continues, brows furrowing at the neat little lock in his way, "I think he'd fire Roxas. He'd have to, to get Xemnas off his back."
He whirls back around and locks eyes with her. Hers go wide, lip dipping again.
"No shit?" she mumbles, through the stare down.
"Roxas was only defending himself, but Xemnas wouldn't see it that way." He turns, pulling out painstakingly neat desk drawers, flipping up organizers and rifling through paperclips in search of a small silver key, though he already knows in his chest, Saïx would never leave it lying around. "Roxas doesn't deserve that shit."
"So?" Out of the corner of his eye he sees her gesture for him to continue.
He slides a sticker gun back in the drawer and seats himself on the desk to face her. "So?" he mimics, expression too innocent to be genuine.
"What do you care what happens to Roxas?"
"He's…" Axel finds himself gesturing vaguely, "a good guy."
"That's it?"
"I…" Axel searches his head for a better explanation. But that's it. He likes Roxas. Roxas is good. Roxas didn't do anything wrong. He wants to protect Roxas. "Yeah. That's it."
She looks skeptical as Axel starts in half-heartedly on another desk drawer.
"And?"
His hand pauses. "And nothing."
Her eyes roll again, revealing flashes of silver shadow and he's going to have to ask her where she bought it some time. "Fine. Keep your secrets. So, that's all you want from me. Pretend like it never happened, try to convince Vanitas to do the same?"
"And one more thing." He pulls a black sticky note pad and a silver permanent marker from the desktop and holds them out. "Insurance this won't happen again. I tried to find it myself, but uh, I don't actually work here."
"Axel, no," her voice wavers, alarmed, tired. "We've been over this."
Axel reaches across the keyboard he's perched beside to the mouse and opens up the security video, rewinds, plays. "Let's go back to the tapes, shall we?"
Aqua's marker jolts mid apartment number as she watches Vanitas lunge for Roxas' middle and get sucker punched. She remains silent the remainder of the scene and then hands Axel a slip of paper, folded in half, and turns away.
He peeks at the address, giggles. "You live on Wayfinder Way? What, seriously?"
She smacks his shoulder again. "So help me God, if you show up at my house…"
"Aqua, that is exactly what I intend to do." If Vanitas pulls this shit again, he's going to take it outside the bar, so to speak. And then whatever happens, no one can blame Saïx.
"And then what?"
"Excuse me?"
She takes an angry bite off the pretzel and waves it in a circle. "You're skulking around our place and then what are you going to do?"
Axel examines his knuckles. It's been a long time since he's seen them purple and blue, black and yellow. Even longer since he's set anything interesting on fire. "I'll use my imagination." Rising from the desk, he tucks the slip into a tight gold denim pocket, swapping it with the plugs that Roxas had handed him, and heads for the door.
"Axel, wait," Aqua catches his forearm, swallows. "What if there was another way? No firing Vanitas or Roxas."
He taps his fingers against the door frame and turns back around, wondering if Aqua had somehow come up with a solution he hadn't. "You have my attention."
"Fire me again."
You're killing me, Smalls. "What?
"Do it," she strides closer, taping the pretzel against his chest. "Fire me. Say it."
"Aqua," he hesitates, wondering if she's screwing with him, "you're fired." He lets it sit in the air, too heavy, and then groans, "Ugh. Nope. Still can't do it. You're unfired. And I'm going to have to gargle some Listerine now. Which drawer do you think Saïx keeps it in?"
Axel strides back to Saïx's desk and tugs the bottom drawer open with the toe of his boot.
"Okay, so not fired, then," she allows, taking a bite and chewing as she ruminates, arms crossing, "suspended?"
"Here it is." Axel produces a small bottle of pine green mouthwash, and uncaps it with the same flourish he'd uncork a fine wine.
Aqua covers a laugh with her hand and manages levelly, "And you can unfire me when he gets his act together."
"You think he'd do that for you?" Axel presses his lips to the bottle and tilts his head back.
The air smells like mint sprigs and Aqua grimaces. "You just straight up put your mouth on Saïx's Listerine."
Axel makes a show of gargling and spits the results into a spare coffee mug. Then he lifts an eyebrow, leering the tiniest bit. "Trust me, Saïx has no issues with my mouth germs anywhere."
Aqua chokes, clears her throat. "Now I have a nasty taste in my mouth."
"You brought it up." He raises the bottle as if in toast and then screws the cap back on. "Sai won't like this, speaking of."
Aqua shakes her head, eyes on the security feed, where Vanitas is checking out the woman with questionable taste in young reptilian vigilante themed backpacks. Axel would have gone with Michelangelo or Raphael, himself. "Vanitas will straighten out his act to help me. I know he will."
"If he doesn't, I'm going to look like the asshole who fired St. Aqua right before Christmas." Axel scowls, he can already hear the flak from Xaldin, and god forbid anyone tell Terra. "I'll probably be haunted by sinister but well-intentioned ghosts."
"Axel, honey," she frowns, tone all sympathetic. "Everyone already thinks you're an asshole."
Ouch. Someone's had one too many shifts with Larxene. She's the queen of harsh but true.
"Yeah, well." He slides the mouthwash back into the drawer and picks up the plugs he's set on the desktop, watching them catch the harsh, backroom light. "Roxas doesn't."
Her expression hardens, a judgment he doesn't quite understand written in her creasing forehead. "Then don't prove him wrong. Axel…please."
"Fine. You win. Congratulations, Aqua. You're fired. Please return your lanyard and snarky attitude to the desk drawer." He gestures toward the empty space beside Saïx's Listerine.
Aqua takes off her lanyard and drops it in. Turning on her heel, she pushes her way out and onto the sales floor. He follows suit, hanging in the door frame as Aqua chucks the last nugget of her pretzel at his cheek. "Fuck you, Axel." And if the whole store didn't hear that, it wasn't her fault. The words echo in his ears as she storms out, grabbing Vanitas' by the wrist and taking him along for the ride.
"Nice talking to you too, Aqua."