Hey, it's finally done! Writing this chapter sucked REALLY BAD. But here it is. (Now it's your turn, Lauren. Are you gonna update or what? Your punishment: no Demyx in this chapter. Hahaha.)

I don't own these characters 'cept Bruixe, you know the drill. Enjoy.

"I'm bored," Axel whined.

"Get over it," Bruixe grumbled.

"But I'm BORED!"

"I said get over it!"

"Well maybe I can't!"

"Well maybe you should!"

"Well maybe I don't care!"

"Well maybe I'll MAKE you care!"

"Would you two just shut up?" Xigbar complained.

Bruixe gave him a look. "You may be number two," she pointed out, "but we're on the same project here, so I don't want to hear it."

"Hate to break it to you, but I don't wanna be here any more than you do, sweetheart," Xigbar sighed.

Little sparks winked in and out around Axel's head. Bruixe recognized the signs. "What's got your panties in a twist, hotcakes?"

"I don't wear panties," he snapped, avoiding the question.

Bruixe tried really, really hard not to laugh. But some things you just can't change.

"Pay attention, you two," Xigbar ordered. "Our boy is waking up."

It was the second day of surveillance. On screen, Roxas crawled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. It was still strange – even after twenty-plus hours – not seeing him in the black Organization cloak… even though Bruixe had always thought he didn't look good in black.

It had been hard at first, seeing Roxas with three friends, for all purposes looking like he'd known them all his life. Bruixe kept reminding herself that he didn't remember his old friends, but still…

They'd done their best to make a joke out of it. "Can't believe he replaced me with that punk," Axel had said.

"At least the Hayner kid's a little similar to you," Bruixe had grumbled in reply. "Olette's such a girl."

At which point Axel had started laughing hysterically.

Now Roxas was running around the fake Twilight Town, trying to make munny by doing random odd jobs. She sighed. At this rate, it was going to be a reeeaaallly long day.

Bruixe looked at the screen but didn't really see it, lost in thought. Roxas had managed to summon the Keyblade – not his old ones, but at least it was a Keyblade of some sort – even though he had no memory of his life as a Nobody. He'd defeated the Dusks, though Bruixe had expected that one. Even with a fake memory, Roxas was no pushover. Now Xemnas was shut in his study every day, working on a program to allow Axel and Bruixe into the system. But the security around Ansem the Wise's virtual reality was just too strong.

"Whoa," Xigbar said, jerking Bruixe back into reality. On screen, Roxas and his 'friends' were approaching the station.

"What?" Bruixe wanted to know.

"This isn't right," the Freeshooter mumbled, typing commands into the computer. "They're going to the station… going to the beach… but there isn't a beach in this program."

"Then they can't go to the beach," Axel said unnecessarily.

"He'll have to make one," Xigbar said. "Or somehow stop Roxas from going… either way involves interfering with the program. We may have our opening."

Bruixe slid closer to the monitor, suddenly interested.

Roxas had accidentally thrown a stick at a mysterious man in a black cloak the day before – the same man that had captured Roxas in the real world. The Organization still had no idea who he was, only that he was working with Ansem the Wise. The man had been in and out of the program so quickly that Xigbar and Xemnas hadn't had time to figure out how he got there.

Now the strange man appeared again, and Xigbar's fingers flew over keys.

Roxas fell to his knees, tripping over something on the street. The cloaked man was next to him in a flash, pulling him back to his feet. What Roxas couldn't see – and what was clearly visible from the watchers's angle – was that the man also palmed Roxas's munny bag.

The man was gone as quickly as he appeared.

"Did you get that?" Bruixe demanded.

"Sort of," replied Xigbar, unsure. "Hang on – I'll get this to Xemnas, he'll want to see it."

The Freeshooter bolted from the room.

Roxas was inside the station now, and patting his pockets frantically, searching for the pouch. Bruixe couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

"Poor guy," she murmured.

Axel grunted noncommitally.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Bruixe asked, a little irritated. "Don't think I didn't see those sparks before. You have no poker face."

"It fooled Marluxia and Larxene," Axel reminded her.

"Don't change the subject," she spat.

He looked away. "It's nothing."

"Don't lie," she told him. "It's very bad for your character."

She ran through the conversation in her head. "Let's see… we were arguing, Xigbar told us to shut up, I told him to stuff it, he argued with me…"

Axel's eyebrows pulled together.

"Something Xigbar said?" she guessed.

"If I tell you, you'll hit me," he said moodily.

Bruixe considered. "I promise not to hit you."

Axel looked at her for a long time, as if trying to decide whether she'd make good on her promise. Finally he crossed his arms. "Fine. He called you 'sweetheart'. And he's like twice – no, three times your age."

Bruixe raised her eyebrows incredulously. "That's all?" Why would that even bother him? Unless… She guffawed. "You were jealous?"

"No one calls you 'sweetheart'!" Axel said defensively. "If I tried it you'd hit me! But he can get away with it!"

"He's my boss!" Bruixe argued. "Or close to it, anyway!"

"I'm higher than you too, and you still hit me!"

"So he called me a name," Bruixe shrugged. "It's the same as 'hothead' or 'waterboy'. Just a name. It doesn't mean anything."

Axel scowled, sparks flickering again. "You're wrong," he said, voice dangerously soft. "You don't see the way they look at you. I may not be the brightest person around, but I can tell what they want. It doesn't take a psychic."

Bruixe frowned, but didn't say anything.

"It's like there's a line of people behind me, all wanting their shot at you," Axel continued. "It's so –"

"Behind YOU?" Bruixe yelled. "What, like I belong to you or something? Was me throwing you off a tower not a big enough hint for you? HANDS OFF! I don't belong to ANYONE!"

Axel's eyes took on a wide, panicky look. "I didn't mean it like that," he said hastily. "I mean – I know you're not a thing – not someone's toy – I mean, I can share –"

"SHARE!?" she shrieked, and lunged for him.

But before she could kill Axel, a firm hand clamped around her wrist. "Probably not the best idea, kiddo," Xigbar said conversationally. "Yeah, the hothead's annoying, but he can be useful sometimes."

She glared furiously at the Freeshooter for a moment, then broke free from his grasp.

"Can't turn my back for five seconds," Xigbar muttered as she stormed out of the room.