Sneaking up on somebody is an art form. It's a dance to be mastered, to be savored; one must note even the smallest detail so as to create the most satisfying hunt and execution.

Such were Axel's thoughts as he crept in the shadows lingering in the corners of the room.

He was strung, wired. His legs were like two wound springs beneath him, carrying him silently through the thin atmosphere. He moved slowly but efficiently, taking care to keep the various chains and zippers about his body from breaking his cover. When he reached his desired post, he crouched, eyes glittering, so that his fingertips brushed the carpet. A deep breath sucked into his lungs, and as he straightened, his body leaned forward. The broad grin splitting his lips gave no testament to the tense steel in his muscles. "How ya doin', Dee?"

A squawk disturbed the silence, accompanied by a flat twang, and Axel relaxed into a fit of laughter. "Wha—Axel!" Green eyes glared hard. "You made me break a string!"

"Oh, please, you spend way too much time with that thing anyway. Come on, leave it. Let's do something."

Demyx narrowed his eyes and stroked a thumb over the strings of his sitar, calling forth a minor chord. "We will. Let me fix this first. Jerk." He pulled the broken string taut, plucked it, then removed the string from the weapon and turned to a drawer hidden from his assailant.

Axel sighed dramatically. Well, if he was stuck here, he might as well make it worth his while. Looking around, he caught various sheets of scribbled music notes and one pool of water, contained by a porcelain basin. There was a small waterfall flowing into the center of the pool, disturbing the surface, and only then did Axel realize that the room had not been entirely silent when he snuck upon Demyx. Oh well, no big deal. "Is this what you do all day when you're not on a mission? Just sit here and stroke that thing?"

"At least I'm not burning things."

"Aw, you just haven't given it a chance. Fire is fun!" Axel's eyes glittered and he snapped his fingers, producing a tiny flame that soon burnt out. "You can even make it burn different colors if you use the right stuff."

The blonde looked at him in obvious disapproval.

"Fine. If you're so bent out of shape over that thing, I'll sit and watch you." Axel nodded. "How would you like that?"

Demyx relaxed and gave his friend a smile. "At least you'll learn something. All you guys ever do is fight everyone. It would do you some good to lay back a little and chill out."

"Says the starving artist." The redheaded fighter strolled over to his accomplice and grabbed the sitar roughly, earning an indignant gasp from the blonde. He then promptly turned his back and plopped down, hard, directly into the lap of the musician. "So I gotta learn, huh? Well then, teach me."

"You're impossible." He shifted uncomfortably, trying to upset the man in his lap, but to no avail. As a result, he sighed heavily in defeat and reached around the thin waist against his stomach to pluck the newly wound string. "Let me finish tuning and I'll show you."

Axel grinned and made a great show of getting comfortable, leaning back unnecessarily far and propping his legs on the desk in front of him. He'd be willing to bet that his unruly tresses were blocking his friend's view, but that was part of the fun, wasn't it?

"You know, you're really heavy." Twang. Tune. Twang.

"Yeah, well, not everyone can be as tiny as you, Demmy."

The blond readjusted the sitar and leaned forward, trying not to notice how soft and fragrant his friend's hair happened to be. "Alright, watch me. See how my fingers go on different places on the strings? That's how you get the different notes."

Axel watched for a moment, amused by the long, delicate fingers plucking the sitar strings. He knew quite well that he wouldn't be able to call forth the same music; his fingers were stubby and built for fighting, but he watched for Demyx' sake, knowing that it was very important to him. The lull of the music was heavy, however, and soon his head fell back onto his friend's shoulder, his eyes closed.

The blonde halted his tune and tried to crane his head so as to see Axel's face. The man's hair was a monstrosity, though, and so he instead propped his chin on the fighter's shoulder. He let his sitar fall between Axel's knees, supporting the top with his middle finger, and sighed.

"You definitely picked the wrong guy for this."

"Mm."