A/N: This is for Jem Kallop! If you like well-written fics, go look her up. And wish her a happy birthday while you're at it. :)

This is first person POV from Malik's perspective. It's also thiefshipping. Enjoy. :)

..

After two years of dating, I had thought it was about time for Bakura to meet my family.

For months, my alabaster boyfriend waved the idea away as rushed and even unnecessary, but when I got the call about Ishizu's holiday party, I begged for weeks for Bakura to go, until finally threatening to go alone. Bakura was a wreck when it came to me driving, which was saying something since he was a very composed man for his young age and irresponsible approach to certain things. According to my white-haired boyfriend, my skill level was only comparable to a stoned cab driver in New York traffic.

And that's why the two of us were speeding down the road at 80 miles an hour, whipping by mini vans with stick figure families plastered on the bumper.

"Bakura, if you don't slow down you're going to burn up all the gas, and I'm not going to fill it again," I said, just because I thought it was too quiet and I knew Bakura was in too grumpy a mood to hold any conversation that wasn't testy banter.

"This damn trip is all your fault, so you'll fill up if I tell you to," the pale man replied, his nude lips set in a straight line. "Besides, I'm going the speed limit. I'm legal."

"Hmm, those words must have had quite a foreign taste," I smirked, tugging at the seam of my pants with the warmth of fondness in my eyes. The fighting was a show, because I knew at the end of the day, I could look at Bakura and say I loved him—something I'd never been able to do to anyone who didn't have Ishtar blood in their veins, and rarely even then.

Bakura's eyes were fixed on the road, but when I looked into them, I saw my own emotion reflected, twisted as it might have been by Bakura's possessive personality. "Yes, almost as foreign as the taste of your—"

"Ahh, what the hell, Bakura!"

Bakura had taken his eyes off the road for just one second, but when he followed my gaze, his eyes widened. A large puff of smoke spat out of the hood of the car, like the old coach had taken a huge drag from a gasoline-scented cigar. Bakura ticked on the flashers and pulled to the side of the road.

"Fuck," I muttered, placing one hand loosely over each of my ears. The stress was setting in, because the party was in a few short hours and we still had at least one more to drive, plus half an hour to book a hotel for the night before it got too late. "Fuck. We don't have time for this."

Bakura cut the engine. "It's karma for you dragging me along. Or the car was scared shitless of the idea that you might have been driving it alone that it committed suicide."

I rolled my eyes and opened the door, swinging my legs out. As I was tugging on the hood, Bakura's arms slithered around my waist, his chin gently digging into my shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his breath warming my otherwise freezing neck.

"I'm trying to open this damn thing," I said, yanking upward on the thin, chilled metal. It wasn't cold enough to snow, but my fingers were already numb and the slippery hood was not cooperating nicely.

"There's a latch underneath it that you have to pull." Bakura spoke up after about three minutes, and if he hadn't been keeping me warm from behind, I would have sent him a nasty glare.

I found the so-called latch and it did the trick. A deep gray cloud rose up and danced with the winter breeze…and the two of us.

Bakura released me and took a step back, leaving me with the acrid smell of burnt gas and car…disease. I raised a lip in disgust, choosing not to vocalize my distaste at the idea of my hair smelling like a mechanic's garage. Once the smoke cleared with the wind and I could see the engine, I realized we were better off walking with how long it would take either of us to even figure out what could possibly be wrong with it.

"Damn it," I breathed, looking over my shoulder at my pale boyfriend, who practically glowed in the moonlight. His slanted eyebrows and serious expression made my stomach flutter still after so long of being with him. "Do you know anything about cars, babe?"

"I know how to hotwire them."

"Great. Maybe we could hotwire a fucking tree and ride it to Ishizu's," I said, crossing my arms as a shiver shimmied down my spine.

Bakura's brown eyes rolled in his little frustrating way. "Call your damn sister and have her come get us. Well stay with her for a few days and have the car towed to a shop in her city."

My lavender eyes narrowed, lips pursed in thought. Nevertheless, I pulled out my phone and dialed Ishizu.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ishizu…we've got a little problem."

"Uh-oh. You're not coming are you?"

"No, we are. Well, we were…" I paused, my eyes locked on Bakura's. "'Kura's shitty ass American made car pretty much broke down on the side of the road."

"I would be offended but I'm not American," Bakura said at the same time Ishizu sighed into my ear.

"So you need someone to come get you?"

"Yes please, sister dearest," I said in an overly sweet tone, giving a hopeful smile that she couldn't see. I saw Bakura roll his eyes again, but a small smile told me he thought I was being endearing, not annoying.

"Well, Odion's out getting some last minute stuff for the party, so I'll ask him to come get you before he gets too into the shopping."

"Thank you so much," I said, already feeling much more relieved. It sucked that we'd have to wait a while, but at least we wouldn't have to spend the night or miss the party waiting for a tow truck.

We hung up after a bit of small talk and I slid the phone into my jacket pocket. "Let's get in the car, please."

Once we were cuddled in the back seat and out of the cutting cold, the realization of what would be a long wait set in.

.

The last bit of warmth left from when the car was on began to leave after about ten minutes of waiting.

My head rested on Bakura's chest. He sat up, his legs propped on the seat and his back against the door. I was basically on top of him and I was really glad we were past the 'awkward semi-boner' stage of our relationship.

Or at least past the awkward part.

"Where's the car blanket?" I asked, my voice a little muffled since it was pretty hard to talk with Bakura's peck pushing on my cheek.

"I don't know. It's your blanket. Where did you put it?"

I thought for a moment then a sense of dread expanded in my stomach like the smoke that had come out of the car. "…It's in the trunk."

Bakura sighed, and without a word, he wiggled out from under me and managed to crawl his way out of the back seat. I heard the keys singing in his hand and then the trunk popped open. When my boyfriend came back, he was carrying the wool-lined blanket in the crook of his elbow.

We cuddled back into our original position, but this time the blanket entrapped our body heat and we shared a comfortable nap.

.

I woke up to my older brother tapping on the car window, which had long since frosted over. It was pretty weird opening to the door with my messy nap hair and a little bit of crusted drool in the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and introduced him to my groggy boyfriend.

When Bakura dipped out of the car, their handshake was stiff and uncomfortable.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Odion said in his deep, gruff voice.

Bakura gave a smirk and nodded. We piled into Odion's two-door car like a family of circus clowns, Odion and I in the front and Bakura cramped in the back. It wasn't long before I looked back to see Bakura had been lulled back to sleep by the smooth purr of my brother's aftermarket vehicle.

"So this is the famed Bakura, huh?" Odion said, passing three cars at once.

I didn't dare look at the speedometer. "Yeah, you've seen pictures."

"Don't take it personally, but he's got a bit of an eccentric appearance," my brother said, one side of his mouth raised in a little smile.

I snorted. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

I would be the first to admit that my style of dressing was abnormal, if not a bit eerily erotic. Pant chains were my most recent obsession; in fact I had one clipped onto my belt loops for the party that boasted a pattern of chain links and skulls.

"Silly me. He treats you well, yes?"

I nodded immediately. We had our spats, but what couple didn't? "We have a mutual respect for each other, honestly. Knives are only pulled about a quarter of the time."

Odion didn't even flinch. He understood the joke, which was a part of our relationship I was always fond of. "And you love him?"

I smiled, glancing in the rearview mirror at Bakura's peaceful expression. "I do. I really do."

My bulky brother nodded and said, "Then I approve of him. Good luck with Ishizu, though. You know how she can be."

I chuckled because I knew he was joking. The thing about my family was that we had a bond that went past DNA. We accepted each other, and I was more than ready for Bakura to be included in that deal. In my jacket pocket, my hand locked on a velvety box that withheld my possible future.

"I'm gonna propose at the party, Odion."

This time, his reaction was more enthusiastic. "Really? I'm happy for you, Malik. You're sure you're ready for that?"

I tilted my head to look at him. "I'm twenty-five, not fifteen. And like I said, I really love him."

Odion's small laugh was as sincere and comforting as the heater in the car spitting out warmth on his ankles. "You deserve that, little brother."

"What, marriage?" I gripped the ring box in my pocket tighter and glanced back at Bakura.

"Happiness."

..

A/N: I don't like how this turned out more like a chapter to a fanfiction rather than a standalone story, but I'm really hoping you guys have a different opinion. Thanks for reading, and again this is a gift for the sweet Jem Kallop's birthday. :)