:peeks around a corner: Um, hi? Long time no see? Eheh .. :sweatdrop: I have a good excuse, I swear.

Oneshots invaded my brain and just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote them. And that's the honest truth.

Okay, okay. My incompetence aside, please forgive me. This chapter is so new, it's practically still in diapers. Took me six hours yesterday to finish it. I hope you guys like it. Lemme know what you think, yeah?

And I know my chapters are still a bit short -- I wanted this one to be longer, but there are events on the agenda that I want to be from Axel's POV, so they'll be in the next one. Which won't be another year coming. Promise. Also, I'll be going back over the first two chapters and doing some major editing, so .. stay with me. I'm eternally grateful for those of you who have had the patience to wait for this. Thank you, so much.

This is for my wife, kurosora1984, because all she wanted was for them to meet again. ILU, you sexy thing.

And just because I must make this random observation -- Wild Turkey will knock you on your ass. Axel's a freaking trooper. :D


An anomaly.

An anomaly wrapped in an enigma.

Why the hell am I here again?

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure and apparently, neither were the voices in my head.

That makes me seem a bit crazy, doesn't it? I told you before … I'm not. I'm just programmed differently. Which still didn't explain why I was at the bar again, sitting in the exact same spot as the night before and keeping at least one eye trained on the door at all times.

Poor wittle Woxas, you're not gonna cry, are you?

I'd be embarrassed if this whole thing weren't going on in the back of my brain. No one else could hear them and as long as I didn't say anything out loud, it'd be just fine.

I'd only been here for an hour, anyway. It was eight-thirty and the place was pretty dead, but I didn't see any reason to leave just yet. I stirred my drink absently, lifting the glass to take a sip and grimacing. I let it sit too long. Watered-down vodka is downright disgusting.

Not like you need to be drinking anyway! Another voice, high-pitched and reminding me much too much of my harpy of a mother screeched through the momentary silence. I could see her clearly, standing there, toe tapping endlessly in irritation. Shaking my head, I will the image away and motioned for another drink.

So … why are you here, anyway?

I thought about it. Mulled it over. Any and every reason I could possibly think of slipped away from me, until there was nothing left save the after-image of an emerald stare burned into the backs of my eyes.

Ohho .. so you like him.

No, it isn't that. I shifted uneasily, sipping my vodka tonic thoughtfully.

Then what is it?

Hm.

All right, so maybe I wanted to see if I could crack him open, peek inside that head of his to discern why I was suddenly so interested in a single person. I'll be the first to admit that it takes quite a bit to hold my attention – moreover, if it isn't abnormal or the least bit abstract, I've already forgotten about it and moved on to the next thing on the list. To think that I was suddenly distracted by the existence of a single entity was laughable.

There's something, the tiny voice mused. I scowled into my glass. You know, don't you? What it is about him. Fucking tell me!

Soft laughter in a dark corner of my mind. If I knew, so would you, and you wouldn't be sitting here talking to yourself.

That … was probably true. Dammit.

I sat in sullen silence, swirling the clear liquid, watching the ice cubes circle each other in a slow dance.

Maybe I should go home.

Yes! The harpy-voice shrieked in the most obnoxious soprano. Go home and study like the good boy you're supposed to be!

Shut the fuck up. I groaned softly, wondering if this internal exchange was the product of so many years of isolation with no brothers or sister, and parents that really couldn't have cared less – or the beginning of my mental downfall. Either was frighteningly possible.

"What happened to him?"

"He just broke down, started mumbling to himself about … voices."

And there I'd be, in a goddamn straitjacket, rocking back and forth in the corner of a padded room. Not a very honorable way to go, eh? No sir.

"Well, fancy meetin' you here."

My head snapped up, eyes catching a flash of red and a flicker of green as the center of my inner wonderings came strolling in, bringing with him a rush of chilled air. He grinned, slid onto the stool directly to my left and motioned to the bartender. "Shot of Wild Turkey," he called, shrugging out of his jacket. He draped the garment over the back of the chair, still grinning madly as his shot was placed in front of him.

"Cheers." He tossed it back without so much as a blink, purring somewhere deep in the back of his throat, a small sound of satisfaction. Turning to me again, he set the empty glass on the bar and winked. "So. What brings you here this fine evening?"

I regarded him carefully, warily, sipping from my own drink. "Certainly isn't the clientèle," I mumbled. The redhead snorted, signaling to the bartender that he wanted another shot. "Ouch." He gave me a sidelong glance, a corner of his mouth twisting upward as he brought the glass to his lips. "Sure it wasn't the prospect of seeing me again?"

I coughed, nearly choking on the vodka as it diverted down my windpipe – glaring, wide-eyed, I swiped a hand across my mouth in exasperation. "Not cocky at all, are you?" I shook my head as though to clear it, pinching the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger. He chuckled softly to himself, and there was silence.

"Has it ever occurred to you that … maybe, just maybe, you're not the center of everyone's universe?"

He certainly is the center of yours. The disembodied voice almost seemed to be laughing at me again. If it had a mouth … I was positive it would have been marked with a sneer.

Shutupshutupshutup!

I'm just pointing out the obvious, here.

I didn't ask you to.

Ah, you never do.

He was grinning again. I looked up, eyebrows raised, challenging. "Well?"

He shrugged almost lazily, shoulders barely moving. "Never occurred to me, no." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "No … why would it?" We were both quiet then, each absorbed in our own thoughts. Or possibly in his case, the lack thereof.

You're not making a very good first impression.

I thought I told you to shut up.

I'm just saying …

I've already made a first impression. We met yesterday, remember?

Oh, right. But you were too busy blushing to be interesting. Now's your chance.

I swear to god, if you don't shut up, I'm going to stab you with a Q-tip.

I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you can't threaten the intangible.

Point and match.

For the love of –

"So." The redhead, Axel, smirked and twirled his empty glass across the surface of the bar. "If you're not here to enjoy the company of others, and you're not here on the off chance that I might turn up again … which, honestly, I think you're lying but … that's neither here nor there." He paused briefly, that insufferable grin plastered across his face. I conveniently looked away. "Why are you here?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I assume the purpose of this particular establishment is to give people a place to wind down from their day … not to provide an opportunity to be obnoxious."

He deadpanned, the corner of his lip curving upward just a little. "You're some piece of work, Rox. Anyone ever told you that?"

Oh, he remembered your name … that's a start.

Quiet.

I ignored the question, opting instead to sip from my drink. Too much tonic … not enough vodka. I let it sit too long again. "It's Roxas," I corrected him politely, giving up on my alcohol intake for the evening. It wasn't worth it. "But it's nice to know you stopped calling me 'kid.'"

Axel, apparently intent on killing a few brain cells, called for his third shot of bourbon. "Mm, I like Rox better. Adds a little bit of character."

I scowled. "I have plenty of character, thank you."

"That … remains to be seen."

Oh, I like him, Rox. Don't screw this up.

Jesus, not you too.

What? I think it's cute.

"So why are you here, then? Stopping in on the off chance that I might be here, and you'd have another opportunity to amuse yourself by annoying me?"

He tossed back the third drink as easily as if it were water, tongue darting out over his bottom lip, collecting the last clinging drop. I tried not to notice. His eyes were glittering as he looked at me, the curve of his mouth shifting; I felt my cheeks redden and quickly averted my gaze, focusing instead on the imperfections in the wood of the bar. Knot there, a chip there … oh hey, it's darker in that spot over there …

You're blushing again, Rox. Is it the alcohol, or the sexy redhead?

you think he's sexy?

I'm just tapping into the thoughts zooming around in here that you don't want to recognize … like your intrigue at the way his tongue curled over his lip …

That's enough of that, thank you.

Hey, they're your thoughts. Not mine.

"A'right, maybe I wanted to see if I could catch you here again … try to make you blush a little deeper, you know." He laughed softly and I felt my ears start to burn, as they most often did when I was really embarrassed. "But ..." I chanced a glance in his direction, and much to my astonishment and relief, he wasn't even looking at me anymore.

"In all seriousness, the tobacco business takes a lot outta me. I come in here to drown myself in high-proof alcohol so I can forget exactly how much I didn't get done, and how much I have left to do tomorrow, blah blah."

I wrinkled my nose a little. Hadn't I thought to myself last night that if he carried a lighter around, he smoked?

He didn't say he smoked, dummy. Stop jumping to conclusions.

Wait for it …

"Tobacco business, huh? What do you do, buy cigarettes for minors?"

"Ohh, you're funny. I own a smoke shop a few blocks over. You wouldn't believe the demand for flavored cigarillos." He snorted a laugh, scrubbing a hand back through his hair and stretching. My gaze wandered downward and I noticed, quite by accident, the pale strip of skin revealed above the band of his jeans as his shirt rode up the tiniest bit. "Uh, yeah," I offered distractedly. "I'm sure even if I knew what those were … I'd still be surprised."

Jesus, Roxas, could you be any more conspicuous?

Huh? Oh. Shit.

Axel … seemed not to notice. Huh.

Better count your blessings. He'd have never let it go.

Yeah …

Roxas. Pay attention.

I blinked. Shook my head. This is why I had to find out precisely what it was about him. This was … way beyond my usual thought pattern. Here I was, completely distracted by a simple, natural reflex all on account of him. Him. Who the hell was he, anyway?

He was grinning at me again. "Wanna see it?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"My shop. It's within walking distance, if you'd like to take a glimpse inside the world of a young, attractive entrepreneur."

… Aaand I was out of my trance.

I turned sideways on the barstool, facing him directly for the first time. He noticed this, and inclined his head just slightly.

"I'm game, as long as you're not out to … rape me, or anything."

His smile twisted even more, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously. "Couldn't tell you if I was, could I? Then you'd be expecting it."

I pulled out my wallet, tallying up my tab in my head and tossing a few bills on top of the bar. "Yeah, you're right … it would completely ruin the surprise." Crimson brows swept slowly upward, his mouth going slack. My own tiny smile spread easily across my mouth as he paid for his own drinks and stood. He shook his head.

"... some piece of work."

Oh, hell, what are you doing?

I bit my lip, following quietly behind him as he started toward the door.

Just … making it interesting.


Oh Roxas, whatever is going on inside that head of yours? Sometimes .. I don't even know. You're more of a fucking enigma than Axel.