-stretches rustily- Hi again everyone! It has been freakin' ages since I've been on here, seriously.

And I might never have come back if it had not been for straykitty babbling on the other day about how she spontaneously wrote a new chapter of a fic of hers that she, like me, has not seen in a bazillion years - and then she posted it here. So, me being curious and wot, I popped in here to check out the scene. I'm sure there are many more changes that I haven't seen I'm still getting used to the ones I have! but anyway.

So, this idea occurred to me out of the blue. Which is doubly weird because I haven't written fanfiction of any sort for... well, a long time.

Anyway.

It's not my usual, and I don't think it's as good as it might have been, but I am rusty! -hides behind excuse-

ALL RIGHT, I shall stop with the babbling and let you get to the fic already. It's numero uno of a series of unrelated shorts, dependant of course on my fickle muse. xD

Enjoi!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of YGO depicted in this fanfiction. I own... SOCKS!

Enemies with Benefits v.1

Hate/Hate/Lust

It was a dark and stormy night.

Oh, all right, so it was a bright sunny day and the middle of the afternoon, but every writer gets to use that line once in a while, just because.

Mai Valentine stood, black motorcycle helmet spinning aimlessly in her manicured hands, outside of Domino High. She stood there every day, sometimes arriving just in time, other days getting there as much as five minutes ahead of time. She had initially gotten some stares from random passersby, as she was only a year out of school and looked as though she should still be on the other side of the fence. Her leather jacket and biker gloves didn't exactly go unnoticed either. The week after she'd begun, however, they stopped noticing as much. She had already become part of the natural environment.

Big bright school building, with a large grassy playground, a silver-painted fence – and Mai, waiting.

The school bell rung loudly, jolting the young woman from her reverie. The helmet stopped twirling with the soft thunk of flesh against plastic, and her dark purple eyes focused immediately on the double doors of the school, out of which students were beginning to trickle. As the trickle turned to a flood, a cacophonic wave of students freed from the day's school, a slight smile touched her lips as her eyes landed on the one for which she had been waiting, for whom she always waited, and would always wait.

She watched him coming closer, felt his eyes on her even though it was still too far to see the familiar, comforting brown orbs. Her smile widened slightly as she realized that he was very busy not absorbing a word of what his best friend was telling him, the short boy's gestures growing more and more animated as he tried futilely to recapture his friend's wandering attention. Well, not wandering: he knew exactly where he was looking, and at exactly who he was looking.

She lifted a hand and waved, just once. He broke into a jog, and it was only a few moments before his long legs, still somewhat gangly in adolescence, covered the few metres that separated them. She stepped forward into his embrace and smiled to herself, taking in a breath of his comforting scent without thinking.

"Joey, if you – oh, hello Mai," said Yugi Moto, aforementioned best friend. He, Mai had noticed with much private amusement, still did not seem to have clicked that she waited outside the school for Joey every day, and had been doing so ever since they'd become, well, a Them. Each day, he greeted her with the same genuine pleased surprise, as though the previous day she hadn't been waiting in exactly the same place. She wasn't even sure the naïve kid really knew what 'going out' really entailed.

She stepped reluctantly out of Joey's warm embrace and smiled down at him. "Hey Yugi. How was school?" she asked, directing the question to both of them. Predictably, it was Yugi who chirped, "Good thanks!" as a response. Joey declined, as he usually did, to comment. School was not his strong suit, and as such every moment spent within its confines grated on the blonde youth.

Leaning against Joey, Mai stood quietly, not taking part in the conversation that began as more and more of the group of friends trickled towards them, merely relishing the moment. This was one of her very favourite times of day – when she had her Joey back, and the world suddenly seemed like a brighter place. She'd never get used to that. It wasn't even as if he were away from her for such an extended period of time! However, be that as it may, having him around continued to brighten her day, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

She felt Joey stiffen beside her, and knew that another usual – although much less liked – daily happening was taking place. Seto Kaiba, CEO and all-around-arse, was leaving the building, and he never did so without one last little dig at Joey and his friends. "Kaiba alert," Tristan warned belatedly, and Mai turned her head so that her gaze followed the same path as Joey's baleful stare.

The brunette was busy with his cellphone, but when he felt Joey's eyes on him he looked up, and smirked lightly. "If you keep on making that face, no one will want to take you home from the dog pound, mutt," he said, as though giving a helpful piece of advice. "I suggest you keep it cute and cuddly. I mean, you are at a disadvantage after all."

Joey pushed his fringe out of his eyes and growled, "Oh yeah? And what disadvantage would that be, Moneybags? 'Cause from where I'm standing, I only see advantages of being me rather than, say, you."

Kaiba shook his head lightly, condescension evident in his clear blue eyes. "Well, besides the obvious one of not having two brain cells to rub together –" Joey growled angrily, but Kaiba pretended he hadn't heard, continuing smoothly, "your disadvantage should be obvious. Even to your little bunch of hangers-on." Pause. Here came the sting. "You're a mutt, Wheeler. An inbred, ugly mutt. And you'd rather be you?" Kaiba snorted derisively. "You have been spending too much time with the motivational speaker here," he said, gesturing at Tea. "You're starting to believe her drivel."

At that, he continued walking, as though another moment in their presence might soil his perfection. Mai's teeth were grinding audibly, and after a pause she stepped forward. "You bastard," she growled, resisting the urge to clench her fists and just punch that smug look right off of his handsome face. "You're the inbred one, the inbred little purebred dog prancing around with his ickle blue ribbon. You wouldn't last one minute in the real world, the one outside of your office, and – and you know it. And to make yourself feel better you take it out on Joey!"

Kaiba turned, regarding her neutrally for a moment. And then he looked curious, hardly the reaction she had been expecting. "I don't get it," he said at last, his eyes flickering briefly from Mai to Joey and back.

"What don't you get?" Mai snapped impatiently, unwilling to spell it out for the idiot. For someone who went around criticising other people's intelligence, he was some kind of idiot if he didn't understand what she'd said.

Kaiba's clear, blue-diamond eyes bored into hers. "You and him. I don't get it." He took a step closer, and Mai quite suddenly realised how tall he was, how broad those shoulders really were – and it wasn't just good tailoring. Her gaze was locked with his, and for a moment she felt really powerless, as though she couldn't even speak, couldn't stop him as he continued, quietly, "How does someone like you end up with, for lack of a better phrase, someone like him?"

The brunette's gaze shifted to Joey, who looked ready to kill something, a muscle working furiously in his jaw as he fought to keep his temper. Mai blinked, the spell she'd felt like she'd been under breaking. She stared at Kaiba, who slowly turned his head to return her gaze, his eyes enquiring. "Kaiba," she said coldly, summoning up a tone as sharp and chilling as an icicle knife, "how do you expect me to explain love to someone who has no heart?"

A perfectly manicured eyebrow rose. "I see." And with that, the brunette was gone, merging with the milling crowds and then, when he reached the street, ducking into his limousine.

"Aaargh!" cried Joey in frustration, turning around and punching a tree. "Why does he get to me?"

"Ignore him," Mai advised, turning back to her boyfriend and slipping her arm around his waist. "He's got problems, I can tell."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You doubt me?" she said, her voice teasingly insulted. Joey chuckled and put an affectionate arm around her. "Come on you guys," she continued, turning her head to include the rest of the 'gang' in this. "Let's get some ice-cream – on me." Immediately, Tristan whooped, and Joey let go over her to join him in a little weirdo free-ice-cream-dance-thing. Mai rolled her eyes, smiling with wry fondness.

Boys. Honestly!

He was waiting in a bus stop, and he was freezing. He wasn't even sure what he was doing there. Well, he knew what he was doing. The why part was the one he hadn't quite figured out yet.

A motorcycle engine's noise echoed out of the darkness, and the bright headlight on the front of one lit up the front of the building in front of which he was, er… hiding, for lack of a better word, in the bus stop. Aha. The rider cut the engine and he heard two feet hit the ground in rhythm, one after the other as she dismounted. Even if he hadn't known who it was, the light from the headlamp starkly outlined her dark form, every curve visible thanks to her tight-fitting clothes.

After arguing with himself for a few moments, he squared his shoulders and stepped out of his hiding place. At the sound of his footsteps, he saw her hand grasping automatically inside a bag – for mace, he presumed, or pepper spray. Time to announce himself, before he came out on the wrong end of either of them.

"Put it away, Valentine. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, a lazy smirk creeping onto his face as she started visibly. He couldn't really blame her: he was the last person he'd expect to see in this part of town too.

She took a few steps forward, her eyes narrowing at him in dislike as her vision confirmed what her ears had told her. "What do you want, Kaiba?" she snapped irritably, hands slipping onto her hips.

He smirked, knowing that that needled her more than anything else. "Can't an old friend drop by for a chat?" he asked innocently, crossing the gap between them with two long strides. Mai glared at him, shaking her head and making her blonde mane swish from side to side.

"You're no friend of mine, Kaiba," she pointed out acidly, turning away from him and stalking over to her bike. Her every movement spoke volumes about her irritation at his intrusion into her life, her real one, the life she lived outside of Duel Monsters and waiting outside Domino High. Her voice cracked, whip-like, through the chilly night as she repeated her demand. "What do you want?"

He rolled his eyes. "What do you think I want, Valentine?" He mouth twisted with dislike as she flicked her hair at him derisively, as she turned away and headed into the building without a further word, rudely leaving him on the street. For a moment, he seemed about to leave, but then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He did not like this uncertainty – he preferred hard facts to such in-the-air speculation.

He sighed again lightly and followed Mai inside. As he pushed the door open, he saw her walking towards the lift, obviously having just finished a conversation with the receptionist-style woman sitting at the front desk. The words 'Can I help you?' formed and died on the woman's lips as she spotted Kaiba, recognition sparking in her wide pale blue eyes. She made as though to get up – to curtsey, or what? He couldn't help another smirk at the obviously overwhelmed state his very presence had put her in. He waved a vague hand in her direction and she closed her mouth, sinking back into her seat in awestruck silence.

"Valentine," he said, strolling up to stand beside her as she waited for the lift and putting his hands casually into his pockets. "I don't believe we're quite finished our conversation." She turned to glare at him, in a how-dare-you-follow-me kind of way, and he arched an eyebrow. As the doors slid open in front of them, he said smoothly, as though he'd timed it precisely, "Your lift is here. Are you going to take it, or should I send it up to the next person who wants it?"

"I'm going to take it, Kaiba, but you're not coming with me," Mai growled, stepping into the lift and turning, lifting her arms as though intending to bar the doorway. Kaiba was too fast for her, however, having been anticipating her movement. He'd walked into the lift almost immediately behind her, and took a hold of one of her wrists as her arms stopped moving, her eyes flashing angrily as she prepared to kick him out of the small room.

"I think I am," he said calmly, releasing her arm as the door slid closed and leaning over her to press the button for the penthouse suite. She muttered something under her breath and jabbed her thumb into the button marked seven. He leaned casually against the wall, and the question arose in his mind, as it had many times previously that evening, what exactly do you intend to do now?

Here they were, standing in ever-deepening silence in a small room, Mai staring fixedly at the dial that showed what floor they were on, and he watching her.

In actual fact, he had not expected it to come this far. He was angry, he knew it, and he also knew that he had much better control of his expression of that anger than she did – he looked calm and collected, while she was practically spouting steam from her ears. He also knew – and here it was, the real reason he was here at all – that he had never been so attracted to anyone before.

No, he didn't care for Mai herself – the dyed-blonde extensions and extensive use of the word 'hun' grated on him far too much for that nonsense. But Mai in the mood she was in right now was a striking example of how much emotion could alter someone's appearance. There was a dangerous spark in her eye, and her long fingers were curling reflexively into fists, as though she wished to punch him.

She was gorgeous. And he had found that the angrier she made him, the more he wanted her.

"What!?" she shouted suddenly, whirling around to face him. If looks could kill… well, he wouldn't be able to give her one of his practically trademark smirks, being that small piles of ash have never been big on facial expressions and all. "What do you want from me? And don't you give me that bloody smirk, you arse!"

"What do I want?" Kaiba asked, his blue eyes suddenly burning with an intensity the blonde had never seen there before. He straightened, seemingly filling more of the tiny lift's space than his previous languid presence, and smirked at her, taking a step forward. She took an instinctive step back, quite suddenly feeling… was that fear?

"…Kaiba?"

His eyes caught her gaze and held it fast, her breathing quickening as an unusual feeling swept through her in addition to the fear. Oh, she thought, her back pressing against the wall of the lift. Oh gods.

"You, Mai," he said finally, their faces so close that she could feel the warmth of her breath. She closed her eyes and looked away, ignoring the sudden heat filling her slim body.

"Piss off, Kaiba," she muttered, ashamed of her inability to meet his eyes. "I'm taken, remember that?"

His answer was to bend his face down and press his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, but soon she could feel his… need, or something very like it, giving it a light urgency. Her lips had reacted before she could think, but now she pulled away, saying sharply, "Kaiba, no." As much as she might want to – not that she'd ever admit that to herself – she was taken, damnit! Joey was the most amazing man she'd ever met, and she loved him with all of her heart. She wasn't going to throw that away for one moment's pleasure.

Kaiba had other ideas; his fingers curled under her chin to lift her head, making her meet his gaze again. "Yes." And his lips claimed hers again, in a kiss that was as angry as the first had been controlled. She resisted for a moment, and then felt herself swept under a wave of thoughtless feeling, felt herself matching him fire for fire.

They broke apart after a long time, and she stared mutely at him, not knowing what to say. She knew she should feel awful, she should push him away and dive through the doors pinging open onto floor seven behind him, she should feel the guilt of having kissed another man settling in her stomach. But she didn't. It just felt… right.

The doors slid slowly closed behind Kaiba, who gave her an enquiring look. She merely glared at him, surprised – and somehow, not really – to find her anger had survived the kiss intact. "Bastard," she growled at him, pushing him fiercely away. He stepped back, and then lifted her off of the floor and pushed her against the wall, icy blue eyes narrowing.

"Bitch," he said, and kissed her.

The lift kept moving on up to the penthouse floor, and then started back down to seven, on which the doors opened and they stumbled out, unable to keep their hands off of each other long enough to walk the short distance to her apartment. As they moved into the entrance hall, Mai carelessly dropping the keys onto their hook, the door swung shut behind them, and at its final-sounding click whatever restraint they had been showing vanished. Hands scrabbled wildly at clothing, and still they kept moving leaving a material trail behind them on the way to the bedroom.

This was not love.

This was hate, which is its polar opposite, and thus equally attractive.

He paced irritably. Had he been the caged wildcat that his movements were reminiscent of, his tail would have been whipping furiously from side to side. The imbeciles! He ground his teeth audibly, glad that he had not chosen to make his office walls transparent glass so that the irate clenching and unclenching of his hands could not be seen by any of his inferiors. How shocked they would be, to see their usually tightly controlled boss so riled up.

Incompetence. That was what it was, simple incompetence. It got on his nerves more than anything else in the entire world, even more than those morons he had to deal with at school. He didn't see the point of doing something if you weren't going to do it well. In his eyes, it was an inexcusable offence, but when he came across it in other businessmen all he could do was grind his teeth and wait for the meeting to end. At least if it was his own employee, he could fire them.

The feeling of impotency, of the inability to do anything, only fuelled his growing anger. The ice-blue of his eyes fairly crackled with intensity as he paced and paced, back and forth, growing more and more agitated by the minute.

Suddenly, he stopped, a thoughtful look flashing across his fuming countenance for a moment. He stalked over to his desk and dialled a number. He did not need to look it up, for it was a number that, while not often used on a day to day basis, was often the one he turned to when stress and frustration got the better of him.

It was answered with a cautious hello, but he didn't bother to return the greeting, merely snapping curtly, "It's me."

There was a pause. "Where?"

"The hotel on Fifth," he said, plucking one of their retreats not used for some time. At the confirmation from the other end of the line, he dropped the phone back on its perch and strode from the room, snagging his trench coat on the way out. Calling over his shoulder for one of his many secretaries to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day, he entered the lift, a wry smirk touching his lips as he recalled another lift, so many years ago.

In a coffee shop on the other side of town, Mai pushed her phone back into her bag, frowning. At her friend's concerned questioning, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Work emergency. Sorry guys, I have to run. I'll see you later at Ryou's party though, right?" This was an excuse she had used before; she had become accustomed, almost, to using these lies on her friends when the situation demanded it. She knew from whom the phone call had come, and she knew exactly what it signified.

The other two young women confirmed, but even as the words left their mouths the blonde woman was on her way to the motorcycle parked outside the café. Although her friends often bugged her about getting an actual car (it as safer, apparently), she had a soft spot for her bike, and had come to the firm decision that she'd only retire it when baby numero uno was on the way – if then.

She gunned the engine and then slipped easily into the light traffic of the mid-afternoon, heading, via an unnecessarily roundabout route for Fifth Avenue. She pulled up outside, handed the bike over to a waiting valet with strict instructions to be very careful – on pain of severe pain, or at least a firing – with it, and then strode into the building. She didn't stop at the front desk, but made directly for the lift, directing it to stop on the penthouse floor.

After a relatively quick journey – the hotel was newly refurbished, so the lifts were top-of-the-line and brand new – she stepped out into the corridor, ignoring the obvious contrast between her clothing and the refined décor. She turned the handle of the only door on the floor, and pushed it open. Standing before her, hands crossed over his chest, was Seto Kaiba. She scowled at him, the fact that he was one of two people in the world she would have rushed like this for obviously not occurring to her in the face of their enemy status.

He smirked. "You're late."

"Some of us have lives. What happened?" Mai dumped her bag on a handy table and began to calmly remove her leather biker gloves.

Kaiba snorted. "Spare me the pleasantries. I didn't come here to talk."

And then, making it impossible to discern exactly who had stepped forward first, they crossed the intervening distance, mouths meeting in an enraged, passionate embrace.

'Friends with benefits' is not an unknown concept. When people become close… well, any amount of mischief can happen. Enemies, however, do not usually come with this manner of 'benefits'.

There's always the exception that proves the rule, however.

And there you have it, folks!

Please give me feedback even if it's just to tell me I should have left my writing hat under the six-inch dust layer in the cupboard... -sweatdrop- - all reviewers get cookies!

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