A/N: Hello! I'm currently in the process of writing a plot-based story called Daughters of Destiny: A Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfic. Please take some time to check it out if you think you would be interested in learning more about my OC Nataki, who appears in this fic, and an interesting story line that creates a subplot in the original, Japanese version of the anime series (set after Battle City, and ends before Waking the Dragons).

As such, this fic is set after the main story line in that fanfiction, and years after the end of the canon series. It's just a short little piece with some fluff. :D I made sure it doesn't contain any spoilers from the story from which it is based. Honestly, I just needed to take a mini-break from the other fic and write something light-hearted for a change.

I hope you enjoy!


"Nataki . . ."

Her name passes between my lips effortlessly, unconsciously, like breathing. Amused, I wait for her impatiently, wishing she would just pick out a damn dress already. It wasn't as if there was a single dress she owned that failed to emphasize her breathtaking features, although I have become rather partial to darker shades of blue and green on her.

"I know, I know." Her voice chimes from the bathroom across the hallway. "I'm almost ready, I promise."

"I've heard that before." I sigh, not so much out of frustration, but rather anticipation, my eyes starving for the sight of her.

Much to my surprise she opens the bathroom door only a minute or two later and steps into my bedroom, her hands clasped in front of her modestly. I look over at her and my breath catches in the back of my throat. I'm speechless for a moment, and you'd think that I've never seen her dressed up so formally before. The truth is, this is nothing new – Mokuba's graduations from middle and high school, her graduation from college, my corporate dinner parties, fundraisers, and tournaments – but somehow none of those memories of her dressed so formally cushion the impact. I'm always taken aback by just how real and unmistakable her beauty is . . .which is ridiculous, I know. How could there possibly have been a time where I hadn't seen her like this? A time when her lovely raven locks, impossibly deep blue eyes, and gentle voice hadn't sent a shiver through me? It was practically unbelievable.

"Well?" Slowly, she rotates her body, giving me the most perfect view of every contour that makes her so undeniably delicious – the curvature of her waist, shapely hips, and that ass, which juts out just enough to taunt me, practically warranting a playful slap or a quick squeeze. I'm doing my best not to remember those two dimples I love so much just slightly above it. "What do you think?"

She always asks, and for the life of me I can't understand why. It's baffling that she should feel the need to ask me this constantly. The memories of my hands and mouth all over her should be proof enough of how addicting she is, how much I crave her. But as per routine, I humor her.

"You look lovely, as always."

I can tell she never tires of hearing that, not out of vanity, but rather out of need for my vocal affirmation. She always wants to look beautiful for me, which is a concern that should never cross her mind – she's gorgeous without doing anything – but I can see how she worries about 'not looking bad' next to me. It's absurd. Yes, I know I'm attractive, but Nataki has the kind of radiance and beauty unattainable by human means. Her existence in and of itself is special, precious even, so why wouldn't this be true for every other aspect of her?

She smiles, one of those truly appreciative, genuine smiles she wears so often that I swear could melt permafrost. It's beyond my understanding how she can elicit this effect from me, but the more time I've spent getting to know her . . . developing these intense, unmistakable feelings for her, the warmer I've felt inside, and the more my body has regrettably shown it. Blushing has always seemed like a complete aberration to me, but her lips close to my ear whispering affections and promises of romance never cease to light up my face quicker than I am able to have a say in the matter.

"Thank you, Seto." Her cheeks have the slight tinge of red, just enough to make me want to tilt her chin up to meet my lips, which always desire the savory taste of hers. "You look handsome as ever."

I smirk while taking a few steps over toward her. She stares up at me with the kind of look that drives a man, any man for that matter, absolutely crazy. My hands reach for her waist and dip a bit so that they're resting a tad closer to her ass. I give it a quick squeeze and she slaps my hand away, but I can see that playful spark in her eyes, the way she's trying to hold back a smile.

"Not now." She reminds me, and I feel myself sigh like a disappointed child who didn't get his way. She notices and rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around my neck. She kisses me and it's soft, sweet, and over way too soon. "You're so spoiled."

She's right, I really am. I return my hands to her waist and clasp them behind her, my eyes fixated on hers. Looking into those blue depths is like staring into an abyss, and just like that, I know there's no way to escape this inevitable plunge I've taken. Just like that, I'm hers.