The Claire's employees Marluxia had said were looking forward to meeting Xion look like they would much rather be watching beige paint dry.

They remind her of back-up dancers that just stepped off the set of a punk rock music video, all tall, tat'd, and pierced, with lean muscle, barely concealed by skintight clothes. Blasé attitudes and dead tired.

Xion had thought that flower crowns and purple aprons would make anybody look approachable, but she had been dead wrong.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything," Xion continues quickly, waving her hands in front of her, "I promise!"

"Of course you didn't," the woman says in a falsely sweet voice. Her eyes return to examining her manicure. She's gorgeous—looks like an Amazon who accidentally got a cute pixie cut.

The other one doesn't say much of anything, his eyes flitting out the store altogether like he has better places to be. He looks like a lion turned into a man, clad in metallic gold jeans and sporting a literal mane of untamed scarlet hair. Even his eyes are feline, lined with sharp, neat strokes of black.

He sighs and slips his phone out of his apron pocket. "Why would she?" he mutters and whether he doesn't believe Xion either or he's challenging the Amazon is difficult to tell.

Xion's not sure which of them makes her more uncomfortable. She knows deep down she should be giving them the benefit of the doubt. She's probably going to be spending a lot of time with them.

They're probably super nice once you get to know them.

But it's a little hard to convince herself when they look so miserable.

Marluxia seems to agree. He clears his throat again.

"So…" The Amazon perks up, running her hand back to adjust her lavender flower crown and giving Xion a once over like an unsatisfied military general picking out imperfections in her uniform. "You're Kairi 3.0."

Xion doesn't understand what she's saying, and even if she did, she doesn't think she can make her mouth do the talking thing.

The lion man rolls his eyes. One hand lands on the hip of his eye-catching jeans and the other gestures to Xion with his phone. "She means to say that you look a bit like a couple of our coworkers," Lion corrects in this smooth, almost gratingly lyrical voice.

Xion's cheeks get so red they could probably glow in the dark.

Oh. So they think I'm the stereotypical bubble-headed Claire's employee, is that it?

That stings a bit. I was hoping being pleasant and liking cute things would be a-okay here...

Having two more of me might be nicer than this.

Marluxia groans then offers Xion an apologetic smile. "They mean to say it's a pleasure to meet you." He levels a hard glare at the pair of them, and it's mildly reassuring that this at least isn't the impression he was going for. "Really, you two..."

He gives both of them another shoulder squeeze, and they scowl in unison. Realizing that they have, they smirk at each other, earlier tension apparently set aside for the time being.

Marluxia lets them go and nods at Xion, pushing heavy bubble-gum pink hair off his shoulder wearily. "Sorry, darling. I only wish I could say they're usually better behaved."

He can't be much older than either of them, but his face is the dictionary definition of beleaguered dad, and Xion can't help but giggle, even if it sounds bell-like and nervous to her own ears.

Marluxia primly swishes his hand before her like a noble introducing a princess. "Larxene, Axel, I would like you to meet our newest associate, Zion."

Xion smiles. If she had a dollar for every time someone accidentally called her the kingdom of heaven, she could start some kind of small, hood-wearing cult of her own. "Xion," she corrects.

"She-on?" he clarifies with raised eyebrows.

Seriously, how is it that all of them have such good eyebrows?

Xion nods in encouragement.

"Xion," he corrects smoothly, drawing neatly manicured nails out toward the blonde Amazon, "Xion, this is Larxene."

Larxene gives Xion a quick, businesslike handshake, and a purred, "Charmed, I'm sure," that Xion can't tell whether she means to be sarcastic, flirtatious, or just hella scary, but kind of comes off as all three.

"Pleased to meet you," Xion says anyway, smiling, telling herself maybe Larxene's just having a bad day.

Marluxia clears his throat emphatically again, though Larxene does not look particularly apologetic. Marluxia swishes his fingers toward the lion man.

"And this is..." Marluxia pauses for the other man to introduce himself.

The lion's arms are crossed and he doesn't reach out a hand or even react until Marluxia repeats his name. He texts another few words and lowers his phone, half smiling. "Good news. Demyx says crisis averted."

Larxene laughs sharply. "And you believe him?"

"Excellent," Marluxia replies dryly. "Now you can put it away and introduce yourself."

"Really was a crisis, Mars," Axel insists, slipping the phone back into his pocket and peering down at Xion like he's a little surprised to see she's still there. He nods. "Hey there."

Maybe he's...also having a bad day?

"Axel," Marluxia concludes for him, just a note of irritation, "your name is Axel."

The lion's eyes narrow, his lips quirk. "Thanks for the info, Marly."

"Axel," Xion repeats, and she can feel her brows bouncing up. Why does that sound so familiar?

"That's it," the lion man—Axel—has a grin like he's planning to eat somebody. "Get it memorized. You're gonna need it."

"She doesn't need to memorize it," Larxene objects, poking the little metal name plate clipped to the man's purple apron. "You're wearing a nametag, dipshit."

"Oh," Axel glances down to confirm, straightens up, "Huh. So I am." But he's paying more attention to Xion now, which is not an entirely welcome sensation. His eyes kind of narrow in and burn.

Marluxia seems anxious to keep the ball rolling, "Axel's our resident piercing artist. He's very good at what he does, but he has trouble with the concept of 'dress code.'" He turns to Xion, nodding at her wardrobe choice in approval. "You may want to think of him as a counter-example. If Axel's wearing it, you probably shouldn't be. Today being an exception, although from the sound of it," he smirks ever-so-slightly, like he can't help but find nagging Axel a little bit amusing, "that was largely an accident."

Axel's tight black tee literally has Let's Fucking Dance printed across the chest of it in slate gray cursive, but Marluxia doesn't seem to have noticed, and Xion's not sure now is the right time to bring it up.

"Yeah, yeah, I scare the children, I've heard it before…" Axel's hands gesture dismissively. Free of his phone he seems livelier. One hand pats Xion's shoulder. "I don't think you're going to have to worry about that with My Little Care Bear here."

That feels a little uncalled for and a lot condescending.

Xion can feel the burn in her cheeks travelling to her ears. He's officially her least favorite.

Marluxia adjusts a bending display sign, beside Axel's shoulder. "I just want her to realize that we do have standards."

Xion feels a little burnt on Axel's behalf, but he just smirks lazily. "I hope you're also going to tell her that Larxene is our customer service counter-example."

Sign corrected, Marluxia pockets his hands. "That goes without saying."

Larxene doesn't look up from her manicure. "You're both assholes."

"Case in point," Marluxia replies glancing around to ensure no customers heard this latest remark and looking relieved to find no one nearby. "Anyway, Xion, one of these fine, upstanding employees has volunteered to train you this morning."

Xion's mouth tries to shape an objection, her lips opening and closing like a goldfish. She kind of hoped Marluxia would be taking the reins on this one.

"Volunteered." Larxene snorts. "That's cute."

Axel tilts his head, sparing Xion another glance, grinning. "Marly, you're really cracking the whip here."

"I'm sorry!" Xion says immediately, eyes feeling hot, wishing she could train herself. Her boot scuffs uselessly along the carpet. "I don't mean to be a burden!"

"Hey, hey," Axel's saying before Xion's even done apologizing, smile evaporating. He steps up to her side, hands spreading in the air as if to physically smooth things over. "Not to worry, Newbie, I've got you covered."

"Really?" Xion blinks up at him, trying not to cringe.

He elbows her arm, winks at her, stage whispers, "Least until someone nicer arrives."

"Uh… Thank you, Axel. I'm… I'm sure you're perfectly nice."

Axel gives her a brief flash of teeth that it wouldn't be fair to call a smile. "I'm basically Prince Charming."

Marluxia gets a little divot between his brows and shakes his head slightly. "Behave."

"Right, right. So." Axel steps past Larxene, hopping up into the adult sized chair at the piercing station. He plucks a sharp looking piece of equipment from the depths of his apron pockets. "How squeamish are you?"

Xion takes an involuntary step back.

"Axel." Marluxia palms his forehead. "Maybe start with something else?"

"Oh." Axel glances at Xion, brows bouncing in concern that Xion has trouble believing. "Sure thing, boss."

Larxene gives Xion a sympathetic grimace and a brief flutter of her fingers. "Good luck with that, 3.0." She struts off to man the register, where the Christmas shopping mom has wrangled her kids.

"Right, well, Xion, I'll clock you in. I'll be in the back for a bit if you need me." Marluxia glances down at an elegant wristwatch, and observes, "Aurora should be here to relieve Axel by noon. That is, if she hasn't overslept again…"

Xion's not sure if this comment is meant to reassure her, Marluxia, or Axel, so she just hums.

Axel smirks, says, "Roger that, Captain." Axel's tone and the tiny, cheeky salute he pairs with it, feel almost… flirtatious?

Xion blushes.

Marluxia stiffens for a half second, like he's second guessing several life choices that have led him to this moment, but then he gives his head another little shake, chuckles, and starts to walk off.

Xion wonders how Roxas would feel to know this mall has so many flirty red heads on the loose. What are the odds? Two doors down and...

Wait… What are the odds?

Axel. His name had sounded so familiar. Axel.

Axel gives an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Alright, he's gone. Just got to check on somebody…" He's already spinning in the piercing seat, phone set on the table, so Xion doesn't feel too bad slipping hers out as well. Scrolling through the notifications from the contact nicknamed "Twin" and skimming until she finds the right messages, hoping to read another name typed there instead.

The three(!) text messages about one man. Apart from calling him 'ridiculously attractive', they hadn't even been that romantic. But there had been three(!) of them. From Roxas. Roxas who never wants to talk about boys, never gets crushes—I basically don't have a heart, I didn't even love my ex, I don't know what I'm doing wrong—Roxas.

But. There it is. Plain as day.

Axel. Axel. Axel.