Seto looked up into the blue glare of his computer screen for the third or fourth time that hour, stunned into silence by a soft click coming from behind him. He was really starting to become annoyed; the clicking was so soft and subtle that he was unsure if he was just overworked and hearing things, or if there was something malfunctioning and making noises somewhere in his office. He gave his head a hard shake, running a hand through his hair to pull his bangs out of his face. It was nothing, he convinced himself. He just needed to finish sending out a few emails and then he could relax, clear his thoughts and, hopefully, the phantom clicking from his brain.

He leaned back in the plush rolling chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling. It hadn't been the easiest week of his life, and he was looking forward to Friday. He had no idea what was in the air, but everyone around him was suffering from a very special brand of temporary stupidity. R and D had somehow managed to burn a holographic image of a Flame Swordsman onto the ceiling of their department on Monday; Tuesday, Mokuba had been late for his English lesson because the babysitter had spaced on the time and gotten them lost somewhere on the outskirts of Domino; and today, Wednesday, the accounting team at KaibaCorp had somehow managed to misplace eight hundred thousand dollars worth of advertisement funds. He had an interesting week ahead of him, and was looking forward to it all being over with. He was ready to take a goddamn vacation.

There was another soft click, almost inaudible. Seto launched himself from the rolling chair, flinging himself across the room. He stood completely still in the middle of his office, straining his ears for the next click.

And there it was! Off to the left, out in the hallway. He yanked the door open and marched into the hall, stopping and falling silent once again. It was louder this time, right in front if him. Seto turned to his right at the sound of a third click, this time amidst the sound of swishing water. He burst into the nearest room and immediately wished he hadn't.

Perched atop the vintage marble countertop was Ren, her Nikon in hand, photographing an (admittedly) attractive, chiseled young man, posing completely naked in the antique claw foot bathtub. His leg was slung over the side of the tub, dripping water and suds onto the crisp white tile floor, the sparse bubbles just barely concealing his manliness.

"Ren…" Seto breathed, his eyes glued to the tiny brunette. He caught just a glance of the other man's slick leg from the reflection in the mirror behind Ren, and he forced himself to stare right into the young woman's face. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Art." She quipped, snapping another photo of the black-haired boy in the tub. She gave one of the umbrellas beside her a slight tilt, subtly altering the light in the room. "In or out, Kaiba, that open door is throwing off my light."

He slammed the door behind him, his fists clenched at his sides. Ren muttered a quiet 'thank you', clicking away at the younger boy, who shifted lazily through his poses, doing his very best to look as bored as possible, or so it appeared to Seto. He stood and watched for a few minutes, mesmerized by the contrast in character. The boy in the tub seemed so spiritless, so turned off by the whole process, while Ren burned with intensity, contorting herself into all sorts of shapes and poses in order to get the shots she desired. Seto had to admit, he was fascinated, until he realized that he was standing in his bathroom watching his brother's nanny snap photos of naked jailbait in his tub.

"Get out of my bathroom." He finally snapped, pointing at the door. Ren and the nude boy leveled him with blank stares. Ren was still rooted in place, but her eyebrow slowly began climbing up beneath her choppy bangs. "The both of you."

Ren heaved a sigh and began forcefully snapping her umbrellas closed, while the young boy unabashedly hauled himself out of the tub. "Stop." Seto demanded, holding up a hand. He had already gotten an eyeful of cock and balls; he didn't need any more. He pointed at the boy. "Pants." He then focused his glare on Ren. "Outside. Now."

She rolled her eyes and finally hopped down from the counter, stuffing her camera into its case and slinging it over her chest. The fire never left her eyes as she stalked out of the bathroom, glaring daggers in her boss' direction. Seto could only scowl right back, and as soon as the door was slammed behind him, he began. "What the Hell are you doing with a naked teenager in my bathroom? I'm working - you should be working. Do you even know where my brother is?"

"I was taking pictures," Ren replied rather plainly. "He's eighteen."

"This is not your job." Seto snapped, "Playing paparazzi on my time—"

"I am not a paparazzi." She hissed. She seethed quietly for a few moments, her eyes absolutely burning. "Using your bathroom to photograph that kid is not me 'playing paparazzi'. Don't you dare call me paparazzi; I am a fucking artist. Get it right."

She shook her head, crossing her arms tight across her chest. She glanced down at her Blackberry and then back up at Kaiba. "Mokuba is still at Mathletes practice," she spoke. "I don't have to pick him up for another hour and fifteen. I know exactly where he is, what he's doing, who he's with, and what time I need to leave. We've been texting this entire time. I had some time to kill, so I was just taking pictures. Problem?"

He narrowed her with an even gaze. He was skeptical, but he had to admit, it sounded like she was on top of it. Though, he never knew with Ren. Some days, she was a model nanny; she would be at the school promptly as it let out so Mokuba wouldn't have to wait, she always made sure his homework was finished and that Seto was home before officially clocking out for the day, and best of all, Mokuba was crazy about her. From what Seto could see, they had a great relationship, and that was the main thing keeping Ren employed. And boy, were there quite a few cards stacked against her.

For starters, Seto from time to time would catch her doing things like this, bringing random naked boys into his home to photograph while she was on his time. From seven to five, she was on KaibaCorp's dime, and he quite frequently found her fucking around doing things like this. He knew there was only so much housework and grocery shopping to be done during the day, but she could at least pretend to be productive while he was around.

Her personality was also less than ideal. Ren's true colors had started shining as soon as she knew she was in Mokuba's good graces, and from that point on, she had taken it upon herself to get smart with Seto on a regular basis. Every morning, she would greet him with a snappy remark and a vicious smile. She would fight with him over the most mundane details of their life together, insult him without remorse ('Fuckass' being her insult of choice), and what was worst of all, he liked it. She had personality, she had balls, and though they clashed almost daily, he couldn't get enough of fighting with her. She kept him sharp, on his toes, and though he was loathe to admit it, she was never more attractive than when she was pissed as Hell.

He hated that most of all. Hated that he was attracted to someone as mean, as nasty, and as off-limits as Ren. Even if he wanted to pursue her (which he didn't), not only would she never take his advances seriously, he wouldn't be able to make them at all. She was his employee. A lawsuit waiting to happen.

Seto stared her down, finally breaking his statuesque stance to outstretch his hand. "Give me your phone."

Ren blinked, her eyebrow rising high. "Are you serious?"

His gaze never wavered; his hand remained open and expectant. She heaved an angry sigh and yanked her phone out of her back pocket, scrolling through her text messages with fervor. "You're fucking insane… Mokuba: The new girl is really cute but needs work. Me: L-O-L, how stupid are we talking? Doesn't know when WW2 was? Mokuba: Blah blah mathletes lingo. Me: Poor hot girl, how will she ever get anywhere, not knowing what a derivative is. Moku…"

She glanced back up at him and Seto snatched the phone from her hands, clicking through Mokuba's most recent texts. He glared back down at the nanny. "'Mathletes let out early. Can you come get me?'"

She yanked the phone out of his hands and shoved it back into her pocket, stomping off down the hallway. "If you hadn't been lecturing me, I'd have picked him up by now, dickmouth!"

That one was new. "We aren't finished here!"

"Yes we are!"

He scowled, following after her and stopping at the head of the stairs. "Don't you pick him up on that death trap of yours!"

She turned on her heel, doorknob in one hand, her moped helmet in the other. "You can blow me! There's no time to call the driver because you didn't leave me enough time to! And who's the one with the Ducati in the garage!" She shot him one last scathing look and slammed the door behind her.

Seto exhaled an angry stream of air through his nose, his arms crossed tight over his chest. That girl was so fired. Maybe not today. Perhaps not tomorrow. But someday. She would be so fired.

Four days had passed since the bathtub incident and things still had not improved between Seto and Ren. She had only become more surly, snipping at him whenever he so much as questioned what she was doing, hurling insults around like footballs. He in turn had taken to insulting her own insults (as they seemed to have lost a bit of their luster) and then removing himself entirely from her presence, remaining isolated in his office. He had to admit, he felt a bit of remorse for cooping himself up in his room, away from his brother, but he had absolutely had it with Ren.

While she was still performing all of her nanny duties as well as she always had been, Seto had noticed a drastic shift in her attitude. Ren was still as nasty as she ever was, there was no way that would ever change, but she seemed much more tense. Like she was stressed. Nervous. Her insults had been much duller than usual; she usually liked to stray outside of the spectrum of 'fuck you' and 'suck my dick, Kaiba' when it came to her unpleasantries, but he had seen a definite slip in her snark over the past couple of days.

And she always seemed like she was in such a rush. Just the previous day, she had run her moped straight through the hedges in order to get to the main road, and Seto couldn't figure out if she had done it to piss him off, or if she was really in that much of a rush. Regardless, she had been completely insufferable, and he didn't know for how much longer he could take it.

He counted himself lucky today. Just as he was coming home from work, he was greeted with a "HI KAIBA, BYE KAIBA" as Ren rushed from the manor, a half-eaten granola bar gripped in her teeth, a pair of high heels dangling from her fingertips. He thought nothing of it, just counted his blessings that she had chosen to clock out early.

"Hey, you're home early!" Mokuba chirped, meeting his brother at the foot of the stairs. "So that means you're going, right?"

"Going where?"

Mokuba snorted, began to laugh, and slowly trickled off when Seto's expression didn't change. "You're serious? It's only been planned for—" He grinned and shook his head, cutting himself short. "Never mind. Just be ready to leave in like two hours?"

"Mokuba."

"Please?"

God dammit.

"The art festival?" Seto quipped two and a half hours later as they hit traffic in the main streets of downtown Domino. He quickly subverted West and the hordes of people flooding the streets. He always forgot about the annual Art and Wine festival. Seto had never attended, himself, though his assistant always liked to have the day off to attend (Isono was a bit of a wino), and it was impossible to avoid knowing about it. Artists and tradesmen came together for the weekend event, showcasing their art and selling their wares to the masses. He wondered briefly if Ren had managed to get a tent on the street, or if she was just wasted on one too many wine tokens.

"Let's see what we have to and get out, Mokuba." Seto spoke, stepping out of the car and slipping on his sunglasses. "I don't want people thinking that I actually like art. And people."

Mokuba rolled his eyes and beckoned his brother forward. "Trust me, Seto, you're going to like what you see."

He cast him a fond smile and they began their descent from the parking lot into the festival. It was much more formidable than Seto had been expecting. The street was filled with tents, filled with people from all walks of life. And art. Art everywhere. Dumpster sculptures, ornately framed oil paintings, delicate lace drapery, all out on display, a part of the same community.

"We're looking for number twenty, so keep your eyes peeled."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "There are hundreds of tents here, Mokuba."

"It isn't a tent." Mokuba gestured at the buildings lining the street. "It's a gallery. The tents are for the general vendors. The galleries are for sponsored artists. Ah! Here it is!" He cocked his head to the side and led them both into one of the galleries. Inside, the walls were covered with photographs, all neatly framed with tiny placards beneath each piece. It was a wide variety of art; some black and white pieces, a fair amount of industrial photos, and contrasting pictures of flowers and nature. There were a few portraits and some still lives, a couple of full spectrum shots, and loads of urban shots.

Seto was about as impressed as he'd ever get, as far as photography was concerned. Some of it was nice, and clearly took skill, but a lot of this shit, he would never understand. Like, why would anybody want to buy a black and white picture of some naked emo kid in a bathtub?

Wait.

It was then he finally noticed her. Ren turned from one of the patrons and grinned as Mokuba approached her, immediately engaging him in conversation. She looked completely different with her hair pinned out of her face, and her high heels and eye shadow on. She was dressed professionally, in tight black slacks and a froofy white blouse, looking somewhere between CEO casual and waitress chic.

He thought briefly of instating a babysitter uniform.

"Have you had any sales yet, Ren?" Mokuba asked.

She grinned and shrugged her shoulders modestly. "I've made a few. I sold that one of the ice plants that you really liked. And every picture of Orin? Sold to the same guy! Kinda weird. He said he just really liked the composition, but I dunno."

She burst into laughter, but petered out when she laid eyes on Seto. She set her mouth in a straight line and leveled him with a firm gaze. "You came."

"Mokuba wanted me to."

She nodded her head, just one sharp movement downward. "Ah." With that, she turned on her heel and strode off to chat up a couple of patrons. He raised an eyebrow at Mokuba, who shook his head.

"That wasn't what she wanted to hear."

"Clearly." Seto rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed after her, looming just behind her as she finished up with her customers.

"I never would have guessed that someone like you could do something like this." He commented to her back. The ladies she had been talking to quickly took their leave, whispering excitedly amongst themselves.

"Oh, you give a shit?" Ren shook her head and strode off, but he followed closely, stopping her in front of a broad landscape.

"You never told me. I had to hear about this through Mokuba –"

"You never asked." She fled and he followed her to a still life. He looked to all the world like an intrigued buyer, and he planned to keep it that way.

"You never told me."

"You never asked." She spat back, her voice hushed. "I spent the past week shitting bricks because of this opening. I was spacey as shit, hell, I drove my Vespa through your hedges and you never once asked me why I did it."

"And you would have told me?" Seto scoffed, his eyebrows raised high. "You didn't want to say more to me than 'go fuck yourself, Dragon Fetish'."

"Leather Fetish. And yes." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms beneath her chest, "Can't hide anything from you, Boss. Question still remains, would you have cared if I told you?"

He snapped his mouth shut, staring right back at her. Would he have cared? No. Not completely, like Mokuba did, anyway. Would he have liked to know? Absolutely. "I would have made it easier for you." He crossed his arms. "Maybe I wouldn't have given you so much shit about it. As your employer, I want to know."

She rolled her eyes again. She really was an expert at that. "Good to know you're looking out for me, Kaiba."

"EXCUSE ME."

All at once, an older man rushed the pair of them, nearly knocking Ren completely over and almost stepping on Seto's shoe. Seto took a step back. He liked those shoes.

"REN. Miss Kuroki! I must have this piece. This masterpiece. This brilliance."

He gestured wildly at a large photo across the gallery, and Seto's stomach flipped. It was of himself and his brother, just their silhouettes from behind. They stood in the middle of the street, at what was clearly a Duel Monster's tournament (last year's Battle City, perhaps?), their profiles glowing, hit by the setting sun. He was officially impressed. He just hoped that it didn't show on his face.

"Oh. That one. It's display only. I'm not selling it."

Seto's eyes went wide and he turned his gaze on her, completely boggled. "Why?"

She glanced up at the billionaire. "Because it's not. It's mine, it's a nice photo, and I'm keeping it for myself." Ren shrugged her shoulders. "I told you, I'm not a paparazzo. I won't sell any photo of you or Mokuba or Lady Gaga or anyone without consent."

His brow furrowed. "You're a… photographer."

Ren nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "Yes. You get it."

"Let me buy it."

"Tch, fuck off." She scoffed, grinning broadly. "Weren't you listening? That one's mine and I'm not going to sell it. Not to you or anyone else. Besides, you'd probably just hang it above your bed so you can stare at yourself while you—"

"I see," Seto interrupted, a devilish smirk spreading across his face, "You just don't want to sell, because you know it's not worth what I'd offer."

"Ohhh, that's cute. This photo is a masterpiece."

"Let's be honest; I could have taken this with my webcam's self-timer."

"Sure, just because your webcam costs just as much as my camera did—"

"OHMYGOD." Seto nearly jumped at the sudden outburst (Ren did. He would have to remember to give her shit for it later). He had forgotten that the patron from before was still standing there. The shorter man fumbled with his phone, before finally managing to pull up his camera. "You're him! You're Seto – Honest To God – Kaiba! Let me just get one picture for FaceBook—"

Before he could shoot the fanboy down himself, Ren had thrust herself between the two of them. "I'm sorry, sir, but there is no photography of any kind in this gallery. I have to protect my work."

"But—"

"Furthermore, this is one of my customers, who did not come here to be harassed. In order to provide a comfortable environment for my customers, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But!" The fanboy looked like he was about to cry."

"Bye, asshole." She waggled her fingers at him and he was snatched up by a burly security guard, who promptly escorted him out of the gallery. She turned back to Seto, who looked on amusedly. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"I still want that picture."

"And I still don't give a fuck." Ren chuckled, rolling her eyes. He kept her gaze fixed on her, studying her carefully. He liked her like this. Relaxed, snarky, her wit flowing organically. The light was back in her eyes, the fire back in her tongue. And he wanted a taste. He smirked down at her, his arms crossed firmly. She caught his gaze and heaved a sigh. "You really want one of my pictures?"

"Do you really not want my money?"

She snorted, before quirking her fingers at him. "Come on. Let's go take a picture."

She snatched up her bag and flounced off to the ladies' bathroom, holding the door open for him. He rolled his eyes and followed her inside, making sure to lock the door behind him. He knew it looked bad, but he didn't care. The security outside was making sure that nobody had any cameras inside the gallery, so he felt safe, knowing that nobody was going to photograph him coming out of a public bathroom with a girl.

"Stand right here." Ren spoke, gesturing at a spot right in front of the sinks. Just above them was a long, tall mirror, which ran the length of the wall. He strode over and stood right next to her, gazing at himself in the mirror. "You want one of my photos, you're going to work your way up." She yanked her camera bag out of her large hobo and whipped out the familiar Nikon. "This'll be fun." She grinned.

Seto's brow set in a hard line. "I'm going to look like a MySpace whore."

"FaceBook, actually." Ren grinned, adjusting her lens, "You sure know next to nothing about the internet for a guy who spends all day in front of a computer. Smile, Kaiba."

Before he had the chance to tell her to die in a fire, the flash burst back at him from the mirror, near searing off his retinas. "Ooh, you look as angry as usual." Ren sniggered, clicking through the digital preview. She grinned broadly and shut the camera off before he could get a look.

"Ren."

"Here, one for me." She interrupted, fishing her BlackBerry out of her back pocket and pulling up its internal camera. She held it up to the mirror and glanced back up at him, trapping him right in her gaze. His pulse quickened by just a beat or two, caught up in her face. It really wasn't fair at all. That someone so completely horrible could be so cute. She grinned and quirked her finger at him, beckoning him closer. "You're like a whole foot away. Come on, jerk."

He took a step closer and the back of her hand brushed against his bicep. She smiled again, quirking her head to the side. "What? Scared to stand next to a girl?"

Seto smirked, leaning in closer. His hair hung in his face; almost close enough to brush against her own. This wasn't the first time they had done this, and it wouldn't be the last. His breath was hot against her skin, and he could almost feel her tremble even from where he stood. "I can play chicken with you all day, Kuroki."

Ren laughed, a short breathy sound. "Well. I always win." Pushing herself onto her toes, she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. He almost laughed, but he had more pressing matters at hand. She had lost; given in and kissed him first. So all bets were off. His left hand settled in the curve of her waist, pulling her to him. Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip for a fleeting moment, before a flashbulb burst once again. He could feel her grin even through their kiss and he broke away as though struck by lightning. Ren was still holding her cell phone, a wicked grin plastered across her face.

"God dammit, Kuroki!"

"I said one for me!" She laughed. She shook her head amusedly, completely preoccupied with her cell phone. "I'll send it to you. It's a good one."

Seto's face burned, somewhere between rage and excitement from their previous engagement. "Dammit, Kuroki, if you put that on the internet…"

"Relax, I said I'm not a paparazzi." She smiled, still fiddling with her phone. "I wouldn't fuck you like that."

Seto's own phone buzzed, and he sighed, pulling it out of his back pocket. He certainly hoped he could trust her. But he never knew with Ren. He didn't know if she really liked him, or if she was just in it to destroy his life from the inside out. Either way…

He stared at his phone, bewildered. This was… not the photo he was expecting.

"What?" Ren quipped. She glanced back down at her phone, and then smirked. "Oh. Whoops. Looks like I sent you the wrong picture." She shrugged her shoulders, gathering up her bag and heading to the door. "Try not to leak that to the internet. Toodaloo!"

The door slammed shut behind her, and Seto's gaze was still glued to his phone. His face was completely stoic, but something was stirring inside him.

Save photo.

Set as wallpaper.