Disclaimer: All characters and locations are the property of their respective owners--save Peggy. I suppose she's mine (though she is based on someone else.)

Sometimes it was difficult to believe that the sun ever shone in Port Royal, let alone it being located in the sunny Caribbean. The crown could give it a perfectly charming exterior; brightly clad navy men could clean up the flotsam and jetsam from sunrise to sunset in time for evening prayers, only do it all over again next morning. But when evening actually came, all the carefully maintained reds and golds that normally colored the port fleeing to the bottom of the sea in a great, fiery orb, the port's true shades came out. As the moonlight began flowing, so did the strong drink and song.

Aggie's was a generic tavern, the rum no better or worse and the company no more or less pleasant than any of its competitors, one of many wave side establishments a man could drop into without sparing the strength to lift his head and read the sign. It was, though by no means a place of atmosphere, not quite shady enough to warrant a visit from the commodore's men, and in a turn of glorious irony this meant it drew in pirates.

And it was because pirates drank at Aggie's that the corner table now seated two young men in black, no strangers to piracy themselves, though they dealt in purloined emotions rather than gold and lived on the barest horizon of existence. Every other day for the past week the pair had dropped into the pub just past sunset, lingered awhile, and took leave in such a way that no one noticed they had disappeared. They had a way of dropping their voices, of leaning in close to one another to share private words punctuated with subtle nods in this or that direction. They were clearly observers, and it was only a matter of time before the management grew skittish under their constant watch and put a stop to it.

Until that happened, it seemed they were bound to survey the tavern as sure as the gulls patrolled the skies.

That night, however, there was something of a change. Rather than the usual veil of secrecy, the taller of the two was conversing with one of the Aggie's regulars, a graying brunette in her 50s. Though his eyes sparkled in the lamplight and he never fully stopped smiling, it was difficult to decipher whether he was intentionally charming her or just prone to gesturing when he spoke.

"You're sure you haven't seen anything? Disappearances, spooky rumors, that sort of thing?"

The woman chuckled coarsely into her beer. "Best keep y'voice down, bleedin' loony. They'll have ye dragged down to the 'sylum if ye keep blowin' on about walking shadders, people changin' an' the like."

"Aww, Peggy," he said with a roguish smile. "All that matters is your belief in me, you know that."

Peggy gave a cackle that was nowhere near "keeping a voice down" and struck him on the shoulder, playfully but hard enough to hurt, though he didn't flinch.

"Bloody silver-tongue."

The younger kept his eyes mainly on the table.

She took another swig of her drink. There was still some foam capping it, though it was already half-empty, leading the blonde to wonder if Axel fully understood the correspondence of reliable information to blood alcohol level. He kept quiet, however, and after a time Peggy started talking once more.

" Alright. It so happens I had meself this customer a few nights back -- nice young bloke, called me marm an' everythin'. I reckon I might've been his first." She chuckled at the charming memory, the likes of which didn't come around too often in her line of work, and turned a very knowingly smile on her younger listener. "Y'know, he was a bit like you."

Roxas hadn't called this woman "marm", nor had had he paid to lose his virginity. He nevertheless knew that he'd been complimented, though Axel would surely be giving him hell for it later if his smirk was any indication.

"You know these sailors, they get lonely," Peggy continued. "And when they get lonely, they get chatty. So after this kid goes off, he starts talking. Strange things."

Both green eyes and blue widened simultaneously; whatever the "things" were, they were enough to make Peggy set aside the rough joviality she'd been putting on. Leaning across the table, she beckoned them both lean in, close enough to smell the liquor on her breath. In her hushed tone one could hear the voice of the frightened young sailor who had been so far from home and so wanting for company.

"They crossed paths with another ship in the night. Thought it was pirates at first – but it weren't no pirates. She was a big old wreck of a thing going with only half a sail, close enough to shoot or get shot at. Only it didn't shoot, and 'Thank the Lord' he says, but then they saw the crew! Blacker'n pitch wid bright yellow eyes, screaming like hell opened up. He said they got out the rifles and swords, but shot passed right through 'em. No doubt it would've been the same wid steel."

Settling back, she gave a long sigh before picking up her beer. "Poor thing was sure his nights were runnin' out. I s'pose that's why he went seeking company, but who knows?"

Roxas hadn't said much to the woman in the short time they'd known one another, but he was not one to let go of a question that was nagging at him. "Do you believe him?"

A silence hung between them, or what would have been silence if not for the incessant din of the pub.

Her sharp shoulders rose in a shrug. "It wouldn't surprise me."

The Nobodies glanced at one another, both knowing so clearly what their informant did not. Reaching deep into his coat pocket, Axel withdrew a handful of gold coins, which he placed on the table in front of her.

"Thanks for the tip, Peg. Here's payment for the hour; go and buy yourself something hot, alright?"

She pocketed it with a will, craggy face lighting up. "Yer a good boy. If y'ever need me again, you know where to find me, eh? "

Axel laughed the free, easy laugh known only by the type of person able to freely make friends with portside prostitutes. "I memorized it. "

Peggy stood up to leave, their conversation assumedly over without any indication that she would truly buy "something hot." Life beckoned her back to the streets as surely as the Caribbean breeze and though Roxas couldn't quite put a pin through the fact that he liked her, he couldn't help but respect the woman. After all, didn't all three of them walk paths that led right through the dark? As Peggy passed by, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, ample cleavage spilling from her bodice.

"Fancy a warm up, lil' goldie? Y'look like a push and a pull would do ya, How 'bout it?" Her breath was hot, her perfume overpowering. "Quarter off seein' as yer Red's mate."

Roxas nearly choked on nothing in particular, the resulting noise akin to a turtle dying. Laughing heartily and clearly satisfied with the reaction, she was gone before he could reply. His wicked blush remained.

Axel snickered for the sake of subtlety. Oh, wait until they got back to the castle."Nice old lady, isn't she?"

The blonde struggled to dually collect his composure and forget what had happened. "She told us what we needed to know."

"Wanna split this place?"

"…Yeah."

The salty, tropical air was refreshing after the confining heat of the tavern. They leaned on the railing overlooking the sea, watched wave after moonlight-laced wave roll in only to break against the stone. Roxas took stock of their mission as it stood.

"So there's a whole shipload of heartless somewhere out there on the ocean."

"Probably more than one," corrected Axel. "Pirates are prime candidates for becoming heartless, and if just one turns on a ship full of people…"

Roxas shuddered at the thought. "A floating cage."

A trap for the hopeless voyagers who would realize too quickly what their fate would be. Maybe they would fight, more than likely...maybe they would win. Or maybe it would simply have the predicted effect...one on par with a barrel of plague rats unleashed in tight quarters.

"Mmhmm." The redhead stretched wearily; the inn room they shared was perfect for keeping watch over all the goings-on in Port Royal, but disaster for anyone seeking a good night's sleep. There had been a crust, visible fleas, and then it had all been torn if in favor of the set of clean sheets they'd smuggled in from the castle. "Looks like another long harvest."

In other words, yet another job for the Keyblade Bearer. The Superior had handed them this job as a change of pace, a way to stem his chosen one's mounting disenchantment with Organization life--which of course he knew too well off, damn the man--with an unspoken but perfectly tangible punishment element thrown in. Keep your head down, your mouth shut, and do as you're told.

How much longer would they be stationed here? A week? A month?

In place of groaning aloud, he let his head slide foreword onto the backs of his hands. A slightly cooler breeze blew by, giving him a rare urge to lean into Axel's warmth, something he most likely would have done if the sound of footsteps on the stones hadn't been betraying a few people still out. The two were far from PDA prone, but in this particular world it was strictly off-limits.

Axel was looking at him now, the concern in his eyes enough to take some of the cold away.

"Mission getting to you, Rox?"

"I'll be fine," he replied, knowing that his partner would see through any outright denials.

Axel scoffed.

"Bull. Look at yourself. This place has drained the life out of you."

Roxas raised his head, giving him a withering look. "Nobodies don't have life in them, Axel."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard the story." He broke away from the stale discussion by turning to face the water, though Roxas could make out distinct grumbling even past the sound of the surf. He was careful to neither smile nor become too lost in his own thoughts, for Axel was never silent for very long. "Hey, Roxas."

Never.

"Let's take a break."

Roxas's eyebrow rose in an arch. They had taken only two real "breaks" during their stay in Port Royal, and one was to watch a band of unfortunate pirates being publicly hung (they had agreed mutually that this didn't count.) The other had been an early morning groping session behind a barn on the edge of town, leaving them panting, sticky, 3/4s clothed, and positive that they'd ruined the entire mission—but temporarily unconcerned about the cleanliness of their food.

"What kind of a break?"

The flame wielder had that look—the kind he only got when he'd just thought up something especially clever. Even with the moonlight hidden behind the clouds, that look was copyright Axel. "You'll see."

He opened his palm as if greeting the empty air, instantly summoning up a portal to the corridors of darkness. It floated there in the center of the street like the worst nightmare of any human being born prior to the invention of penicillin, a port hole to hell itself, hissing and roaring all together and much too loudly. Roxas spluttered with disbelief.

"Axel!" he hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you? Take it down before somebody sees!"

"Better get in fast, then!" replied Axel with a grin.

He had an infuriating point. Inwardly cursing his impulsive partner for cornering him and himself for allowing it to happen, the Keyblade bearer stepped into the darkness.

And now but one question remained as the portal of darkness closed up.

"Axel? Why are we in a sylvan glen?"

The redhead slung an arm over his astonished companion's shoulders. "What? Don't tell me you've actually grown to like the smell of bilge water and sweat."

They had stepped out of the darkness and into what seemed destined for a painting. Judging by the way the warm beams of midday sunlight streamed through fresh, green canopy above, as well as the abundant birdsong, the forest was enjoying either late spring or early summer, though it seemed like the sort of place that would be equally as enchanting in fall or winter. The only thing certain about it was the siren spell it cast so readily; it took him a moment or two to shake it off and ask where they were.

"Another world. A deserted one that the Organization frankly couldn't care less about."

"Really." Roxas's tone carried a note of disbelief, but the sun was shining in his eyes and he was smiling just enough to make all Axel's efforts worthwhile. "The Organization passed up a free world."

"I'm dead serious," assured Axel. "I mean, they'll probably come back to it later, but it's not the kind of place Xemnas is looking for. Sunny, perky, and for some reason he can't core out its heart. Pretty much useless."

The boy closed his eyes. A roaming breeze swayed the golden spikes of his hair, and through his own glorious relief that it carried no evidence of pirates, he heard himself thanking his friend for this gesture. Axel merely scoffed before slipping his arms around him—and this time, Roxas did lean against his older lover. The overwhelming solidness hidden in that lithe frame, coupled with a natural heat that was almost unnatural in its coziness, was his reward.

"Just us and the birds," he mused. Axel touched his nose to the side of his neck; a gesture Roxas couldn't quite pick out the meaning of, just as he would never understand how the flurry could be so obnoxious one minute and totally in tune to what he needed the next, be it the last sea-salt ice-cream bar or a little bit of sappy sunshine. Regardless, it felt nice.

Leather squeaked as he shifted to look up. Even as fragments of logic such as "The longer they stayed away from their post, the greater the risk of getting caught" fast became regulated to the back of his mind, it was obvious they couldn't stay here forever and…he really wanted a kiss. Yes, he was being vaguely girlish, but it had been a while and Axel's kisses were inarguably addictive.

So he took one. And when their awkward angle caused it to merely brush Axel's jaw, he took another, this time successfully and tantalizingly bringing their lips together, so that the drudgery of their mission suddenly fell far away. It didn't matter that they would soon be going back to it, or that his lover's mouth tasted distinctly of harsh liquor (he was sure his did too, to a lesser extent.) All that mattered was this very moment, here, now, together, in the light that was as far from fading into darkness as could be.

"Good morning, er…whoever you might be."

The two broke apart in record time. To their shared horror, a fat yellow bear of about calf-height was waddling past, carrying a pot of honey so oversized that he was forced to hold it in what looked like a hug. Roxas turned on Axel not with anger, but the look of someone who had just witnessed an execution.

"I thought you said it was deserted…" he said numbly. Axel waved his arms as if fighting back the reality of his own mistake.

"I thought it was!"

Meanwhile, the bear had settled down on a sun-warmed rock and was just making sticky inroads on the honey. He seemed more interested in his treat than thoughts of boys in black coats kissing in the forest.

"Oh, please don't mind me. This is just my usual after-breakfast smackeral." His little black eyes positively shone with simple pleasure as he licked his paw. "Would you like some?"

Axel mumbled something as Roxas brought called up a portal of darkness, coughing awkwardly. There was never a portal that took so long to form. Neither looked back to see the 100 Acre Woods fading out of sight, the bear cheerfully waving a chubby paw goodbye.

It would be a day and a half before the pair could look each other in the eyes.

Three days before they could speak more than clipped, necessary sentences.

...And a week before they broke and began laughing about it.

Some moments in life are sweeter than honey. Whether or not this was one of them, neither Axel nor Roxas would bring it up to debate.

--END--