Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.
Okay, this is a re-write of a story I wrote a long while ago. It made me cringe one to many times to read the old version so I've redone it all, one massive over-haul of the plot. Hence "You, Me and Baby makes Three" was born (no pun intended *snicker*) Thank you to my best girl Manda. You are my muse, hun, this would still be on the back shelf without you.
Being what it is, this first chapter is more a pilot than the 'set in stone' version. Feedback is very welcomed as long as the flames aren't too mean. I'll use those ones to warm up my BBQ. I've been craving a good burger these days.
So without further ado, read on and bear witness to the tales of what happens when the oldest Kaiba reproduces....
I don't want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don't want to worry whether
We're gonna stay together
'Till we die
I don't want to jump in
Unless this music's thumping
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards
When the elephants arrive
I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly
-"Love You Madly" by CAKE
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…
God, I really hate that clock.
Then again, sitting his waiting room is never something I enjoy. It's only happened a couple of times when I've caught him during a meeting or a special clients lunch. But even then he made them as short as possible or called a break just long enough for a quick session.
I've been sitting here for an hour and a half. A freaking hour and a half.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, his pretty little blond secretary is smirking at me! I just want to claw that smug look right off her botox-injected face! Every couple of minutes she'll purposely catch my attention- filing her nails and clucking her tongue seemed to be her favourite for the past twenty minutes- and when she sees I'm looking gives an overly dramatic glance at the large clock mounted on the wall, always with a shake of her head and a fake pitying frown.
"Mr. Kaiba is very busy, you know. Working all day and night because of this silly contract." She said in a severely patronizing tone. "Maybe you should come back another time."
My smile was tight. I know the exact thoughts running through her pea-sized mind.
'Poor little mistress, it seems her master's has gotten bored of his favourite toy.'
Angrily I flip my long hair over my shoulder. Not that these words didn't give me a plethora of reasons to gouge her watery little eyes out, but two reasons came to mind hit a particularly nasty nerve. One, I never was not nor shall I ever be a "mistress" or "toy". He knows that. I know that. She needs to get with the program.
What do I need? I sign to hang around my neck that says: 'Kyoko Shang-Di is not a plaything'?
For heaven's sake, I'm as powerful and well known as he is! Okay, well maybe not as powerful, per se, thanks to my controlling parents, and but I am well known. I fancy myself the socialite of Japan. This little bimbo should be gushing over me not talking down to me!
Secondly, how dare she speak to me like she knows him! He's going to be pissed as it is as her for refusing to tell him I'm here. The last secretary knew that. Is it that hard a concept to grasp? I mean, it's not like I'm his girlfriend or anything- more like a convenient friend with benefits- but if she could only hear the way he grouches about her! In fact the only reason he hired her was because she was the highest in her keyboarding class! Ha! If she only knew! I really wish I could just scream that on the intercom! Her face would be priceless. My lips turn up a little. He ain't yours sweetheart; you're guarding lost ground.
So of course I thoroughly enjoy her reaction as I reply. "I think I'll wait." Then I drop my voice so that it would sound to any other person like I'm talking to myself, but make sure she can still hear. "Besides, the suspense only heightens the experience." That's when I top it off with an innocent smile- revelling in her sour sneer- and go back to reading my Cosmo. It's a small pleasure I love to indulge.
And the cow deserves it.
I started chewing my pinkie nail, a bad habit of mine, especially since I've painted them a gorgeous red. His favourite colour on me. Not that I normally did something like this. It's not like I doll myself up just to please him. Ha! When we're together he's never looking at my nails. Today, though, I need more than ever to be in his good graces so every bit helps. I'm nervous. I'm nervous and I don't like it. Not one bit. I can't help but shudder. Maybe I should have worn that little red dress I have tucked away in the back of my closet just for luck.
I know my expression turned to a worried frown and I know that solely because that vulture of a secretary started circling for the kill.
I swear if that stupid little tramp looks at me one more time with that smug look on her face I will stab her with my Prada heels-
"Charlotte." A deep, intense voice spoke through the secretary's intercom, one that sent automatic shivers of delight down my spine.
Stopped in her advance, the cow- oh excuse me- I mean, Charlotte scowled, returning to her desk.
"Yes, sir?"
"Please escort, Miss Jones out."
My stomach coiled in my gut. His tone was sharp and businesslike. I can't guess his mood. Damn, I'd hoped to catch a clue before facing him. Gulping silently, I hardly paid any attention as Charlotte gritted her teeth and stomped over to the giant mahogany double doors, opening one side for whomever his meeting was with, until I hear his deep grinding voice once again.
"Thank you, Millicent. I'll have the details of the contract check over and secured by next time we meet."
My body went rigid, like a fox's listening for a rabbit. I caught a glimpse of his pale long fingered hand as he shook the stranger's. I'll admit, I became utterly fixated. But you have to understand. The things he can do with those hands...
This time I shiver for a whole new reason.
Before I mentally slap myself.
Stop that! Now is not the time! Thinking like that got you into this mess!
The stranger I've now noticed is a woman- nothing to worry about competition wise, thankfully. She was a narrow bony looking business woman, possibly in her late forties maybe early fifties, dressed smartly in an ashen suit with greying blond hair pulled back into a low necked bun. Her aura reminded me of my mother's. I had to suppress a grimace.
Oddly enough, the woman noticed me, and for a split second I swear I saw her frown in pity and disgust. Then in a flash it was gone. I blinked, doubting I'd actually seen anything at all.
She inclined her head at me and I did the same to be polite even if my impatience was growing thin. All I wanted to do was sprint into the office she just came from.
Together she and Charlotte stepped into the elevator, and just before the silver doors closed Little Miss Cow threw me one last scathing glare. I returned it coolly with an emotionless glance. At least I'm mature enough to take the high road.
Okay, maybe there was a little bit of a triumphant smirk in there.
Once they vanished, I made a beeline for the only office on this floor, catching the doorknob before it actually manages to shut. I took a deep breath.
I could see the top of his head peeking over the top of his high backed chair.
'You can do this! You can do this! You can so totally do this!' The mental mantra I've been repeating all morning reels in my head.
Five minutes ago I could have screamed that from a mountaintop, or from the balcony of my favourite café on 5th Avenue.
But as I walk closer to my own personal shot of adrenaline, those words grow shakier and quickly morph into 'Maybe, possibly you can do this… but take off the jacket just in case. And show a little cleavage for good measure'.
Hastily I unbutton my red tweed jacket, fold it over the arms of one of the leather sofas and check my appearance in the reflection in the glass of some fancy French picture of the country vineyards. My eyes slide down my body to make sure every thing's in perfect order.
Skirt? Check.
Hike it up to show a little thigh? Check.
Lipstick? Hair? Mascara? Check, check and check.
I glance down. I'm wearing one of my favourite Chanel tops, the one with a plunging neckline. I am nothing if not prepared. Cleavage?
Double check.
Across the sweeping office, at the far end is where he sits, behind an absolutely massive stone desk. What can I say, the man has a weird fixation with trying to prove the saying "Go big or go home". Facing the wall of windows that overlook the city of Domino, he hissed something harsh into the phone.
"I don't like having to pussy foot around-! Yes I know the board is counting on this backing…"
Perfect! God am I good! I've caught him at the perfect time! Sure he sounds angry but I know he's only frustrated and exhausted and needs a release. And people, I am the girl for the job.
Grinning smugly, I walked to one of the cabinets- cleverly disguised as a file keeper- and pull from the bottom a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses.
Wait. I can't have alcohol, can I? Oh damn it all to hell.
I quickly brushed off it off. I should lay off the liquor anyway. Back to more important business.
When his call ended he put the phone down, the plastic clacking lightly as he set it back in its cradle. Another good sign. He slams it when he's angry.
"Kyoko?" His blue cerulean eyes widened as he turned around, voice is painted with surprise. His gaze flickers to the bottle in my hand, then jumps back to my face but only momentarily. Agonizingly slow, his eyes traced my heart-shaped face, stopping for one long, wistful moment on my lips. "I didn't know you were here."
I revelled in delight. I'm the only person in the world who can catch him by surprise.
Smiling, I poured the rich crimson liquid into the glass- taking a longing whiff for myself- and sauntering around his desk, setting it in front of him. He took it graciously, downing it all at once.
I laughed, refilling his glass as he sank back into the leather. "Tough day?"
"You have no idea," He groaned, running a hand through his perfect chocolate locks. Raising an eyebrow, I gave him the once over.
Aside from his hair, which was normally is immaculately groomed being swept to this side -probably from running his hands through it so many times- I noted the dark bags looming beneath his tired eyes. It made his sharp features look gaunt. Still bone-meltingly sexy, but gaunt nevertheless.
Well of course he looks this way, I mentally slapped myself, he's Seto Kaiba owner and creator of one of the most successful companies in the world! It's a wonder he hasn't started greying yet even if he's only 25.
My observations half made me want to crawl under a rock and forget this whole ordeal. He had enough stress daily as it is.
"Probably not." I answer. "But I've never had the pleasure of running my own company and being a big bad CEO, Mr. Kaiba." I teased. I sat nonchalantly on the edge of his desk, cleverly crossing my arms to improve my… assets shall we call them?
My move had the desired effect. Irises the colour sapphire jewels darkened, dragging down my face, my neck, my… Bingo. Suddenly he doesn't look so tired.
"No, you haven't." he said, voice thickening with desire.
I bite my lip, goose bumps erupting over every inch of me. His gaze lingered over my legs, and then swiftly he snapped his eyes up to mine. It was like a cobra strike; I'm paralysed to the spot. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk no other man on God's green earth could ever match. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. And don't I love it.
"But I'd be happy to give you a taste, if you'd like?"
Like he really needs to ask! With one long finger he beckoned me closer, patting his thigh with the other hand. I rolled my eyes… then slipped onto his lap.
What? Oh come on, if he looked at you with those eyes you would to!
Our mouths crushed together instantly as I sat straddling him, slipping my arms around his neck, fingers threading through his silky hair and down the collar of his shirt. I can still taste the remnants of his afternoon coffee and something else I can only faintly describe as dark chocolate. One of his hands spread palm wide to the small of my back- me falling backwards and onto my ass would not help the mood- while the other firmly cupped my bottom bringing me closer against his rock hard chest.
Something important niggled at the back of my mind, screaming for my attention but to be completely honest I couldn't even remember my own name at the moment. Especially once I feel his tongue run along my bottom lip, demanding entrance. It's so unfair…
"Totally worth the wait," I gasped breathlessly. I could just picture Charlotte walking in on us. In fact, a part of me hopes she does. Then she'll see who knows whom better. Like I bet she doesn't know when I pull his hair he shivers or that he loves having his earlobe nibbled on like what I'm doing now. He groaned encouragingly, hot breath fanning down my neck. Take that you stupid cow.
"How… long…did you… wait…?" He asked between heated kisses.
"Don't… remember…" I answered breathlessly. Shakily my fingers went after the buttons of his shirt. It's surprisingly hard to focus on something as simple as undoing a button when you have a hot man-tamale kissing every inch of you.
"I thought you were busy Mondays," he growled, leaving my lips for the flesh of my throat and moving to my jaw. Several things crashed noisily to the ground as he swept his arm across the surface of his desk, pushing my back onto the newly emptied space.
"Are you… complaining?" I panted, amazingly managing to smirk myself.
The noise that came from his throat sounded like an angry scoff mixed with a growl. "Never."
I tried to respond to that but my brain had melted into mush. All I could do was moan.
Finally I got so frustrated with his shirt I simply gripped the material and yanked. My minimal upper-body strength only managed to pop one button. I blinked.
Seto chuckled. "Can't wait to get a piece of me, hmm?"
Taking advantage of my speechlessness he grinned maniacally, his hands making their way up my shirt.
Automatically, stupidly, I moaned a noise of agreement, pulling him impossibly close. I could feel his smirk grow against my skin. I shouldn't have done that.
What I should have done was stop, straighten my clothes, put my jacket back on and told him outright. Not climb all over him, not devour him, and most certainly I shouldn't allow my hips to grind against his. In fact I should've kept the desk between us or at least out of arms reach. I'm supposed to be a responsible adult and talk about this matter seriously.
He needs to know! Screamed my responsible self. This will alter his life to! This is no laughing ma-
His fingers fluttered over the inside of my thigh.
…
Oh to hell with it. I couldn't stop him even if I wanted to, and right now I definitely, definitely, don't want to.
Little over a half hour later found us tangled on the couch, only half-hazardly dressed and smiling like a couple of cats who'd swallowed a whole lot of canaries. All the contents of his desk were scattered across the floor, papers littered everywhere, and somewhere along the line the telephone cord had been ripped from the wall leaving a hole in the drywall and half the vertical blinds had been crushed to the ground.
Time definitely well spent.
Extremely pleased, I lazily played with one of his slender fingered hands, tracing imaginary patterns on his pale palm, my cheek pressed against his naked chest- naked because I'd stolen his shirt.
We both still panted for breath, trying to replenish our needed oxygen levels and normal heart rates. There was no need for talking, no want for all that mushy pillow talk and cuddling. It would only succeed in making us both puke. Instead, after I managed to solidify my melted bones, I sat up, running my fingers through my tangled hair and smiled down at him, no doubt a look of triumph in my expression. And I knew this because his face mirrored mine. Starry cobalt eyes smouldered at me from beneath his long dark eyelashes as he sat up, wrapping his arms around me, and placing a few last kisses over my shoulder, trailing down to the hollow of my throat. I giggled, knitting my fingers back into his now severely askew hair.
"Don't you have work that you need to get back to?" I asked teasingly, playfully trying to push him away.
He had none of that, countering my movements by tightening his hold. His lanky but muscled arms turned into an iron cage, pulling my tiny body to his, and- more gracefully than should be humanly allowed, he flopped back onto the leather, taking me with him.
"Nothing that can't wait," he muttered, burying his face into my hair. I shivered, his warm breath blasting against my neck. It sent my heart fluttering once again. This is why I stayed around him. He was the only man who could do this to me.
"I'm glad you came by today. You wouldn't believe the clients I've had to deal with. Especially this one we're trying to get as a financial backer." He sighed in frustration and I'm pretty sure I heard the words "Crazy feminist psycho" hissed under his breath.
"Who is it? Have I heard of them?" I asked, setting my chin on my hands, which once again rested on his hard chest. His mouth pressed into a hard line probably at my speculative grin.
"Sanders Co." he answered shortly. "They're an all female board who think every man on this earth is evil and stupid. I've been in a meeting with their CEO Millicent Jones since three. Crazy woman." He snorted, reaching up and running a hand through his chocolate hair. I knocked his hand away and used my hands instead. That seemed to relax him. "And the best part is if we don't get them as a backer we are royally screwed with the plans on expanding to New York."
"Aw." I cooed. "World domination isn't as easy as you thought, hm?"
He shot me a deadpanned look and I laughed, reaching up to share another burning kiss. It loosened him up instantly.
Pulling away his expression turned to honestly amused interest. "I am surprised, though. Normally you're busy Mondays. Why the surprise visit? Again: not complaining, but I am curious." He'd started to nuzzle my throat again.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn, triple damn!
Reality hit me at that moment, like a load of brick attached to the front of a freight train, carrying a 747 jumbo jet.
I'd completely forgotten.
Seto must have caught my expression lock in place because his narrow brows pulled together in a very calculating look.
"Kyoko?"
Suddenly my eyes felt misty. I couldn't believe it I was going to cry. Ordinarily I wasn't one to cry- in fact I hadn't since my fourteenth birthday when I'd gashed myself tripping on my first set of heels- but my eyes stung harder and it was because I wanted to cry. I wanted to puke my emotional guts all over him. I didn't know whether this was just the hormones I'd heard all those women talking about or the fact that now I didn't have the choice of putting this off any longer. I had to tell him.
"I-"
He'd moved to sit up, resting his weight on his elbows. Impulsively my eyes raked across his body, his muscles rippling as he adjusted to better look at my still stiff features.
A second round couldn't hurt right? Or maybe a third or forth... Having him on the brink of unconsciousness would do nicely, then I could tell him and he wouldn't freak out.
Yeah, and my fairy godmother will just wave her magic wand and this will all go away.
Focus, Kyoko, focus!
My eyes searched for my dress, clothes were going to be needed on if we were going to have this conversation. That, and it gave me a less suspicious reason to avoid meeting his searing gaze. But as I tried to move his hands clasped around my wrists, halting me in my place.
"Kyoko, what's going on?" His voice was smoothly cool now, a tint of demand underlying the tone.
"Nothing serious." I deflected, still refusing to meet his gaze.
I scoffed mentally. 'Nothing serious', yeah right, 'Your whole world's just about to implode, that's all'.
"I just wanted to talk to you… about… something." My voice broke over the last word.
Seto's business persona quickly over took his narrow features and suddenly I felt like Bambi caught in the crosshairs of the hunter.
"I know you better than that. You never want to talk unless it's serious. What is it?" Those words were now a full demand. When I stayed silent he sighed, annoyed, and I knew by the sound his good mood was long gone.
Quadruple damn.
He pushed me off his lap, not roughly of course but with enough force that definitely meant he wanted space. I was more than happy to give it to him. He tossed me my bra and the rest of my clothes in exchange for his shirt from the opposite side of the room. I graciously accepted them. I needed something to do with my hands.
"Fine then, don't say anything." He straightened his shirt collar stiffly, not looking at me. "If it's not important enough for you to tell me right now, Kyoko, then I don't have the time to sit around and guess. I'm extremely busy."
He was threatening me to tell him now, hinting that he'd throw me out otherwise, though I knew he wouldn't. He'd only kicked me out once and that was because his little brother had shown up unexpectedly from school.
As he tightened his tie around his neck I suddenly I realized why so many people were afraid of him. His height let him tower over everyone, especially my pitiful 5-foot frame, and his broad shoulders and lean, narrow body held in such an arrogant, almighty way you couldn't help but freeze up in his presence. However it was his eyes, the same smouldering blue irises I'd been staring into minutes ago, that shot through me like two ice tipped arrows. When he looked at me like that it was like looking into pools of glacier water, cold and angry.
I swallowed, hard.
Minutes ticked by, though I wasn't aware how many. Neither of us moved. I sat ramrod straight on the couch; he stood stiffly behind his desk still as a statue. I knew I was only making this worse. His mood had all but blackened completely by now. This was the kind of tension he didn't deal well with. But I couldn't bring the words to my lips. This was going to be devastating no matter how he took it.
Finally, as the tension reached its peak, he could stand it no longer and snarled a vicious noise of disgust. " Damn it, Kyoko, if you don't spit it out-!"
To my absolute horror before I could stop myself my mouth popped open and like some kind of unholy verbal explosion my tongue formed the words loud and clear.
"I'm pregnant."
For one, long, horrible moment I thought he was going to faint.
"What?" he choked out, face draining of all colour.
I took a deep breath, futile trying to stop my hands from shaking.
Well, I thought, my battleship's sunk anyway might as well spill it all.
"I'm pregnant." I said, speaking the words, enunciating all the syllables slowly like someone normally would for a small child.
A minute passed and several times he opened his mouth, to yell at me I figured, but last second he always snapped it shut clenching his jaw so hard I saw the muscles in his sharp face flex all the way from my place on the couch.
"I thought you were on the pill." He spoke through his teeth and I knew he was reining in a lot of self-control not to flip over his desk. His temper was a force to be reckoned with.
"Oh, I am" I shakily assured, "But- well, they do say its only 99% affective…" I let my pitifully shaky voice trail off. My hands were shaking in my lap.
I saw Seto shift. "And you're telling me you're the statistical 1%?"
"M-maybe," my voice broke over the word. "I guess my birth control might have also been… tampered with… You know the antibiotics I had to take?"
Oh the memories. Two months ago I'd had the wonderful pleasure of having my appendix rupture. What a party that was. Not that being told my body's spontaneously combusted wasn't a delightful surprise but the shock was nothing compared to going to the doctor for my latest check up and being told my appendix wasn't the reason I feeling nauseous.
I'm still waiting for the Punk'd crew and Aston Kutcher to pop out yelling "Gottcha!"
I'm nineteen for crying out loud! The longest commitment I'd ever had was to a pair of Manolo Balanik Mary Janes and that only lasted six months! Babies were not on my agenda. Maybe when I'm older and more settled down I'd think about it… well, okay probably not even then. They're so messy and time consuming! I don't want that! I want to live, single and free, to explore as I want! And I knew for a fact reproducing was the last thing- and I do mean the last thing; even further down the list than eating live puppies- that Seto wanted to deal with. His company was the closet thing he said he ever wanted to kids: one big, billion dollar-earning baby.
Pulling myself from my thoughts I focused on the CEO in front of me. He was starting to sway.
I stood. "Seto-"
He stopped me, holding up a hand and his other pinching the bridge of his nose.
"When,"- He started. His voice sounded shaky and he cleared his throat before continuing- "When did you find out?"
"Last Monday" I answered honestly. And it was true. Exactly one week ago. I was sitting in a disturbingly sterile room, angrily flustered over having to fill up a cup when my doctor had walk in scribbling something on his clipboard. I can still hear him like some kind of broken record.
'Well you're not sick, Miss Shang Di, not in that sense anyway.'
I'd snorted and snapped at him to give me an answer. Throwing up every morning and dizzy spells were not part of my usual routine and it was getting very annoying.
'Miss Shang Di, did you know you're pregnant?'
My brain jammed.
Captain Obvious to Brain: Sex causes BABIES
I hadn't stopped kicking myself since then. I'd told the doctor we used condoms and I was on the pill, that's when he went on about all that only 99% affective stuff and mentioned other medications diluted the pill… Which led us to our current situation.
Back in reality Seto deflated into his high-backed chair, running a long fingered hand over his downright exhausted looking face. "And you're sure it's mine?"
My mouth popped open. Thanks for the bluntness Mr. Jerk!
My temper flared. "Of course I'm sure! What do you think I am?! Some trollop who goes gallivanting off with anyone?!"
He didn't look at me but his expression turned dry. "I thought we agreed that neither of us wanted an 'exclusive' relationship. What am I supposed to think?"
I blinked, once, twice.
Touché.
"You're supposed to believe me," I snapped, disregarding his point. "I know that's our rule but unlike some people I don't need to pass myself around like a party favour." I leaned forward, palms on his desk.
"Mine…?" he asked again, sounding more like he was talking to himself this time.
I nodded though he still wasn't looking. "Yes, Seto, I'm pregnant. It's yours. A baby … computing yet?"
"No."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Should I go home?"
"Yes."
Sighing, I picked up my jacket, pulling it on without looking back and yanked open the door. A yelp came from a sheepish looking Charlotte who'd had her ear pressed to the door fell forward.
I took special care to step on all her fingers.
