Yu-Gi-Oh!

A Christmas To Remember

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters from the show are not mine. The other characters and the story are mine! This is part of my Pendulum Swings post-series verse, which is largely a Yami Bakura redemption arc. This installment also heavily builds on the Big Five arc I've been doing and continues from Tired of the Way That Things Have Been, which redeemed Lector and allowed for the possibility of the others perhaps someday fully having changes of heart as well. (It's a long story.) I leave my periodic notation that I embrace the dub localization, but at the same time, I do bring in many things from the original version that were left out in the dub.

Chapter One

The December night in Domino City, Oregon was biting. In wintertime, even along this part of the coast, temperatures were usually in the 30s and 40s. Tonight was even colder than usual; it wasn't an ideal time to be out.

The tall figure leaned against the lamppost at the corner, shoving his gloved hands in his pockets. He could see his breath in the air around him, and he looked with impatience to the marquee on the corner diagonally across from him. 11:32. How was he supposed to meet anyone here as planned if they didn't have the courtesy to show up on time?

After several more minutes he pushed away from the lamppost and pulled his coat closer around him, fixing the belt another notch. "I had to be crazy to agree to this cloak-and-dagger nonsense," he muttered to himself. "This is nothing like New Orleans."

A slight snow was beginning to fall from the sky now. He pulled the brim of his hat low over his face and headed for his car half a block away. If the mysterious person who had contacted him showed up now, they could be the one to wait. He hadn't wanted to come anyway, figuring the strange email was just a prank. But his girl-crazy friend had kept encouraging him to go, hoping it was sent by some lovely young female, and finally he had given in so he didn't have to keep listening to the man going on about it.

"Démas Lector?"

He froze. "Yes." The voice was coming from behind him. He slowly turned, tense, and found himself staring at a simple manilla envelope being offered by a short person wrapped so many times in a winter scarf that only their eyes were visible above it. Or rather, the dark glasses they wore over their eyes.

The person bowed, perhaps mockingly, and stepped back. "I was told to deliver this to you."

He inspected it carefully for a wire or other unpleasant device that could spell disaster for him. "And are you supposed to wait for a reply?" he asked coolly.

"Just a reaction." The knowing smirk in the messenger's voice was not encouraging.

Lector glowered suspiciously as he lifted the flap and extracted a single piece of paper. The message was crudely written in newspaper letters and left him no less confused, but far angrier than before.

WARMONGER.

YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS WILL GET YOURS.

JUST YOU WAIT.

He looked up with a jerk. "What is this?!" he demanded. "I came here in good faith because the person who contacted me said it was a life-and-death matter and they would only talk to me!"

"It is a life-and-death matter," was the smooth reply. "Yours."

Furious, Lector grabbed the small man and lifted him off the ground. "You had better explain this! Who sent this? And what have you to do with it?!"

"I am merely the messenger. And you know what they say about violence on messengers." Another smirk. "As for who sent this, well, they wish to remain anonymous for now."

"That's not good enough!" Lector snapped. "Is it someone whose life was negatively impacted by the weapons KaibaCorp used to make and sell?!"

"Wait and see." The small man adjusted his glasses. "Now, if you will kindly unhand me . . ."

Lector let him drop and he scurried off, but not before the scarf slipped enough that Lector caught a glimpse of thick jowls and a very familiar expression. "Hobson?!" Immediately he gave chase. "You get back here and explain yourself! Hobson!"

He chased the strange little man around a corner and into a snowy alley. Strangely, now he was nowhere to be seen. The clean white snow showed no trace of footprints; they simply, unbelievably just stopped. Lector stood there, the snow descending on his trenchcoat and fedora as he stared at the bewildering nothingness.

If that had truly been Hobson, the long-time Kaiba butler, what was he doing delivering messages like that? Seto Kaiba had always hated KaibaCorp's original practice of weapon manufacturing, but something like this was a childish prank. Seto Kaiba was many things, but childish was not one of them. He couldn't be behind it.

There was, however, someone who did childish things exactly like this to try to get rises out of people. Lector clenched his fists.

"Dr. Portman," he hissed.

xxxx

Yami Bakura stood on the grass, his arms folded as he looked up at Bakura in disbelief. "You honestly want those lights hung so badly that you're willing to brave the falling snow to stand on a ladder and affix them?!"

"Of course," Bakura said over his shoulder. "Yami, can you hold the other end of this light strand until I'm ready for it?" He tossed down a ball of cord and lights and Yami Bakura caught it with a scowl.

Bakura had to admit to being amused at Yami Bakura's differing attitudes between holidays. Halloween entertained him to no end, but he could be quite the Christmas Grinch despite enjoying some aspects of the day.

"How will I even untangle this by the time you want it?" Yami Bakura frowned.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Bakura smiled. "It just takes a little perseverance, Yami, such as what you had when you wanted to decorate the yard in gruesome tombstones and ghoulish characters."

"Heh. That was fun," Yami Bakura sneered. "Figuring out how to unknot 300 miniature lightbulbs, on the other hand . . ."

"Alright, I get the point," Bakura said, laughing. "I'll admit that untangling lights isn't very fun."

"How does it even happen?" Yami Bakura grunted. "We merely set the cord in the box, perfectly unmatted, and somehow now it's tied in a thousand knots as if by magic."

"That's just one of the mysteries of the season," Bakura said. He reached to place part of the strand on a hook. The ladder wobbled. "Oh my!"

Yami Bakura immediately dropped the rest of the lights into the grass and ran forward to catch the hapless boy as he flew off the ladder. "And this doesn't happen when you're turning the front lawn into a graveyard," he growled as Bakura fell into his arms.

Bakura flushed. "I really don't know what happened. . . . I thought the ladder was secure."

"I don't trust the things," Yami Bakura flatly informed him. He set his descendant on the snowy ground on his feet and pulled his robe closer around himself.

"Sometimes I don't either," Bakura said. He shivered. "Maybe this should wait until tomorrow. Only now that we've started, we can't really leave it unfinished like this. . . ." He looked to the ball of lights in the snow.

"Why not?" Yami Bakura grunted. "Obviously they're snow-proof."

"Yes, but by tomorrow it will be even harder to hang them with all the snow and ice," Bakura pointed out. He turned and headed back up the ladder. "I'll be alright, Yami. Especially as long as you stand right there."

Yami Bakura rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, but he definitely kept standing there. To his relief, there were no more accidents and eventually Bakura had the lights up—after taking several breaks to untangle them.

"There," Bakura said in satisfaction when they were plugged in and he was standing and looking up at them. "Doesn't that look nice, Yami?"

"Yes," Yami Bakura grudgingly admitted.

Smiling, Bakura laid down in the now-thick snow for a better view. "This is so nice," he said softly, placing his hands behind his head. "The snow is freshly falling and it looks so clean. I know it's not so, but just for a few minutes, it feels like the world has a new, innocent start and there couldn't possibly be any danger in just laying here and enjoying it, even in the middle of the night."

Finally Yami Bakura gingerly settled down next to him, sitting up rather than lying down. "If there is any danger, I'll take care of it," he said.

"You always try to," Bakura agreed. ". . . It's hard to believe it's been over a year since that horrible White Death experience. . . ."

It was, really. That had happened last year at Thanksgiving time. This year's Thanksgiving had been singularly uneventful and enjoyable by comparison. So had Halloween a month before it, despite the bizarre events on a night shortly before it that had restored the Big Five to their bodies.

Joey had been terrified of Yami Bakura's lawn decorations, of course. But he had enjoyed Bakura's party. Even Yami Bakura had, despite it not being the scare fest he would have planned had he been in charge. Bakura's father, meanwhile, hadn't been thrilled with the macabre front yard, but he had dealt with it. He had been less thrilled when the decor had still been there for Thanksgiving, with Yami Bakura adjusting it so the ghouls and zombies were eating (and eating what, Yami Bakura had wickedly said he would leave that up to the imagination). Mr. Bakura had put his foot down about Christmas, and Yami Bakura had removed all traces of the gruesome scene just last week. Part of his grumpiness tonight was no doubt about that.

Bakura sighed in pleasure, closing his eyes. "I wonder if Christmas will be peaceful this year."

"With our track record, who knows," Yami Bakura grunted. "It seems like we're overdue for something to go wrong."

"You're so cynical, Yami."

"With good reason," Yami Bakura retorted.

Bakura had to admit that was true. "At least a lot has gone right," he said. "We're alright, the Big Five have returned to their bodies and haven't caused any trouble. . . . Seto Kaiba says we're all his friends. . . ."

"And that mad scientist is still running amok somewhere," Yami Bakura growled. "She will certainly be back."

Bakura groaned. "She no doubt will be," he conceded. "But maybe she could wait until after the holidays. . . ."

"No time is a good time to be stalked by a lunatic," Yami Bakura said.

"Well, I can't argue with that," Bakura weakly chuckled. He sat up, brushing the snow out of his hair. "I'm going to remember this moment, whether or not anything goes wrong soon. It's been peaceful and happy." He got up. "Now, why don't we have some hot chocolate?"

Yami Bakura's eyes lit up. "That's the best part of winter."

Bakura laughed.

xxxx

Yugi was also in a good mood. The Game Shop was ready for Christmas, with a window painting out front and garland and lights draped above and along the shelves and the glass counter.

"This is going to be great!" he said enthusiastically to Atem as he adjusted a small tree on said counter. "It's our first Christmas where we each have a separate body!"

"Yes, and your mother still isn't sure what to make of me," Atem awkwardly pointed out. He leaned on the counter with one elbow, watching Yugi work on the miniature tree. It made him happy to see how happy Yugi was and how much he enjoyed this holiday, but Atem wondered if he would really be able to fit in with this aspect of modern living.

Yugi paused in tying a red velvet bow and looked over at his friend and ancestor. "She really is starting to warm up to you," he insisted. "I know it's slow going, but she's trying. At least she isn't having the struggle that Bakura's father has had. . . ."

Atem finally smiled in a bit of amusement. "True." He chuckled. "Even though they're tolerating each other fairly well, I don't envy either one of them on occasions such as Mr. Bakura coming home to see what the front lawn looked like on Thanksgiving."

Yugi gave an uneasy laugh. "That was . . . something else, alright. Bakura said his father made Yami Bakura take down the display for Christmas."

"I'm sure that was for the best." Atem turned to look towards the glass door as the snowflakes glided and danced to the sidewalk and street just outside. "Yami Bakura will always be a character, as Marik says."

"Well, he sure makes life interesting," Yugi said. "Now that he's not trying to take over the world, it's easier to appreciate his unique takes on things. . . . At least, appreciating them because it's part of who he is. I don't think I'll ever personally like a lot of what he does in his spare time, but I respect him for it."

Atem nodded, looking thoughtful. "It's nice, to all be united."

"This should be a really special Christmas season because of that," Yugi beamed. "And now with Kaiba too. I always hoped that someday he would be willing to see us as his friends."

"I was going to make one more appeal for him to open his heart, by telling him of the lessons I've learned about friendship," Atem said. "As it turned out, I didn't need to."

"I just hope nothing will go wrong with enemies popping up or something," Yugi said in concern.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they did," Atem said. "It seems like it's always during a particularly calm moment that a storm comes."

"Well, for now I'm going to hope for the best," Yugi said with determination.

Atem smiled. "As will I."

xxxx

Lector was not in a good mood when he got back to Crump's house. But he did have to stare at the front lawn and shake his head in a bit of amusement. Crump and his penguins. The yard was decorated with probably every penguin inflatable and Christmas light structure in existence. Crump had been delighting in decorating the place since just after Thanksgiving.

He climbed onto the porch, stomping the snow off of his shoes as he rang the doorbell. Instead of a maid, Crump himself opened the door. "Hey," he greeted. "So, how did it go?"

Lector stepped inside, handing him the manilla envelope with a flourish. "This is what somebody considered a life-and-death situation that they would only talk to me about." He took off his hat and crossed through the entryway to the living room, where he slumped back in a chair.

Confused, Crump opened the envelope and stared at the single sheet of paper inside. "What the . . . ?!"

Gansley came over to look. "This isn't the work of someone with a devious sense of humor," he was sure. "They mean business."

"The question is, who means business?" Lector's eyes darkened. "The person who showed up to give me this looked a lot like the old Kaiba butler, Hobson. I can't swear it was him, but I'm fairly sure." He folded his arms.

"Kaiba?" Nesbitt looked over with a frown.

"No, this isn't his style at all," Lector said. "Besides, he's mostly just trying to pretend we don't exist, aside from whatever ways he's been trying to quietly keep tabs on what we're doing." He sat up straight. "I say someone is trying to make us think it's Mr. Kaiba. Dr. Portman, maybe. She could cause trouble for us and for him, all at once."

Gansley frowned, deeply. "That makes sense," he had to admit.

"If it really is her, this is our own fault for letting her go free," Johnson said in chagrin.

"Nevermind that for now." Gansley waved a dismissive hand at him. "We need to find out if it really is her."

"None of us know where she is," Lector retorted. "We already tried all the places I knew about. And that nurse's assistant who was working for her while also working for Mr. Kaiba has disappeared as well."

"I'm sure Kaiba will continue looking for them both," Gansley said, "and he has better resources with which to do it. We should stick with planning our venture into opening Crump's penguin preserve and theme park."

"We might end up sabotaged," Lector pointed out. "Dr. Portman might do it just to see what we'd do. Alternately, if it isn't her, it could be someone who really wants to take revenge on us for some reason."

Nesbitt grunted. "I'm still not sold on this idea to begin with."

"Well, you do have to admit that it could make people see us in a positive light," Johnson spoke up, adjusting his glasses. "That's why we thought maybe we should try it in the first place. If there's one thing we really need right now, it's good publicity."

Lector frowned a bit. "You said you wanted to stay with us, Nesbitt, even knowing what we were planning."

"I know, but . . ." Nesbitt sighed. "Inventing weapons was my true love. Then I was forced to switch to making video game software in order to stay with the company. Now I'd be designing . . . roller coasters and Ferris wheels based on penguins?" His expression twisted in humiliation. "I could never face the people I used to work with in my old department."

"If more people knew what penguins are really like, designing things based on penguins wouldn't be humiliating at all," Crump protested. "Penguins have been completely kiddiefied!"

"You don't help with that, Crump," Gansley pointed out.

Lector nodded in agreement. "Have you really looked at your front lawn lately?"

"Okay, okay. Hey, I've gotta buy what's out there if I want penguin stuff," Crump said. Deciding he wanted a change of subject, he went over to the end table by the door and started looking through the day's mail. Upon coming to one particular piece of mail, he scowled and tossed it to the table.

"What's that?" Lector asked.

"Something from my mother," Crump said in annoyance. "Probably asking for more money for my father's care."

"At least your family actually keeps trying to make contact with you," Lector grunted.

"They're just moochers," Crump said. "They don't really care. They never did."

"Have you even tried to call home yet, Lector?" Johnson asked curiously.

"Yes, I did. My father hung up on me." Lector looked away.

"This isn't really over that whole name debacle, is it?" Crump snorted. "He made way too big a deal out of you simply changing the spelling of your last name. It seemed like every day somebody was mispronouncing it. It only made sense to change it so the pronunciation would be absolutely clear."

"That's what I say," Lector said. "He felt I was dishonoring and rejecting the family name. But no, it's gone far beyond that now. The day the story broke about the Big Five trying to seize control of KaibaCorp by conspiring with Maximillion Pegasus, I was informed that I was no longer part of my family." He bitterly looked away. "My mother said my father was just speaking in anger and he'd calm down, but as far as I know, none of them even tried to check up on me after I fell into that coma."

"I have grandchildren I've never even seen because of my wife leaving me and taking the children with her years ago," Gansley said. He sighed, a brief, tired look passing through his eyes. "But that's all past. We're each other's family now." He smirked a bit. "And unlike our biological families, we've stayed together no matter what befalls us. That should count for something, don't you think?"

"It counts for everything," Crump insisted.

The others agreed. Lector leaned back, watching his family as they launched into a discussion of Crump's theme park vision. He still missed his first family in New Orleans, but this would be a good holiday season . . . as long as that note wasn't the start of something worrisome and dangerous.

Unfortunately, he was really afraid it was.