Title: Visiting Rebecca
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Humor
Warnings/Pairings: Mokuba/Rebecca, Tristan/Duke/Joey. Contains slash
Rating: T for adult situations and swearing
Disclaimer: YGO and the characters therein are not mine and are used here for entertainment purposes only. I'll put 'em back when I'm done with 'em. Promise.

Summary: Mokuba pays a visit to Rebecca Hawkins, who is working part-time as a desk clerk. Early-morning rendezvous, however, are not the best idea when your girlfriend's boss is Duke Devlin, and lives only a floor above you. Silly, ooc-ish, written in 45 minutes and plenty of generalization because this damn plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone after seeing my own boss's new pad on the second floor of our new building. Laugh at the noisy sex and forgive me.

Seto Kaiba jetted to and from America several times each year in order to keep up with his business contacts overseas. When Mokuba was old enough to be let loose in the city without a leash or a bodyguard, Seto let him wander. Seto also maintained a close friendship with Duke Devlin, and when Mokuba was old enough to come along on one of Seto's visits to Duke's new headquarters in San Francisco, he developed an attachment to the gregarious young man himself. Afterward, he took to visiting the four-story Black Crown nerve center on his own.

And that was how he met Rebecca Hawkins, the granddaughter of the late Professor Hawkins who had proved to be a great help during the 'Dartz Situation,' as Yugi's companions referred to it. He knew of her, of course, but Mokuba had no real reason to speak to her until after the tournaments and the greater part of his adolescence had passed. She worked part-time in the store while she continued her duties as a professional researcher at the nearby university, where she was an alumnus. She joked that her job at the Black Crown was "at Mr. Devlin's insistence, since he says it would be 'tragic to let an attractive woman languish behind bookshelves for the rest of her life.'"

She was pretty and clever, and had exchanged her oversized granny glasses and pigtails for contact lenses and a sleek blonde bob. The lambent blue eyes and the freckles were definitely still present. There was no logical reason in the world why Mokuba shouldn't fall completely in love with her.

She didn't know, of course. Not yet, anyway, when he galloped red-faced up the employee-only stairs to the second floor, where Rebecca stood at the hostess counter, beige-painted fingernails drumming pleasantly on the black marble countertop. He visited early; he always did in order to see her before the business day whisked her away. Usually, he only managed a few minutes. Today, he had a whole hour, and was very pleased with himself.

"Hi!" He grinned breathlessly, and she opened her mouth to answer, when strange noises filtered through the softly efficient gray-carpeted space.

"Go! Go go go go GO!"

Both pairs of young eyes turned ceilingward, as distant but nevertheless clear, emphatic epithets slid down the vent shafts. Mokuba's free hand drew slowly out of his pocket and hung limp, forgotten, as did the flower he'd brought.

"Aah! Aaaah! Nnn--holy SHIT!"

"That's RIGHT. That's what I THOUGHT."

Seeing Mokuba's obvious confusion, Rebecca took pity on him and smiled. Her smile was a blessing, had he mentioned that? Angels couldn't have prettier, more innocent smiles.

"What time is it?" She asked. Mokuba consulted his watch.

"Five--"

"YES! OH GOD YES!"

"--F-five--forty--"

"Don't stop! Don't stop! OH SHIT DON'T STOP!"

"--Quarter to six," Mokuba reported, tone clipped and nervous.

Once again, Rebecca's smile was beatific.

"That's only Mr. Devlin," she explained, using his proper title out of policy. In casual circumstances, he was 'Duke.' "Mr. Taylor and Mr. Wheeler returned home last night. Did you bring me a rose? Oh, how sweet!"

Rebecca slid around the counter and pounced on the red, tissue-thin blossom clenched tightly in Mokuba's hand.

"It's beautiful," she sighed, burying her nose in the velvet petals after rescuing it from his fingertips, and then turned heavily-lashed blue eyes on his embarrassed grimace.

"It even matches your cheeks," she said, demurely.

"You're a god! YOU. ARE. A. GOD!"