Scythe: What am I doing? Writing Fanfiction. Damn it... Yes, readers, I'm writing once again... and.. it's.. Yu Gi Oh... dies damn it for sucking me in!

Diclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just own the plot. Thank you.

Warnings and stuff: Strange. Dark(at points). Random Humor. Yaoi. Lemon(will be posted on probably). Ancient Egypt (the best fanfiction to read )

Pairings: Seth/Atem, Bakura/Atem

Chance Meeting

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ra rose up over the land of Egypt, shining his bright light down upon the palace of the Pharaoh and his people. He extended his warmth with his outstretched arms of sunshine, hugging the content land of sand... and poking the young Pharaoh right in the eye. The said pharaoh groaned softly and roused, sitting up in his bed with his messy hair and squinted eyes. He shielding them from the blinding beams and moved out of the way, stretching and huffing as another new day invaded.

"My Pharaoh..." A soft voice came from the door. A servant was bowing low at the door, keeping his eyes averted from the royalty that stood before him. "There has been a bath prepared for you."

"Thank you..." The Pharaoh smiled. "You may leave. I will go by myself over to the bath house."

"Yes, sir." And the servant disappeared, never making eye-contact even once with his beloved Pharaoh.

Atem stretched once again, gathering himself and running a brush through his hair before leaving, on his way to the bath. As he walked, servants bowed and then went about their daily jobs, cleaning this and taking care of that. The ones that greeted him at the door of the bath house already stood with towels and clothes, soaps and washes, scrubs and gold, waiting for their respective jobs to be fulfilled.

He smiled again, and let a servant strip him, then slid into the warm water, reveling in its luke warmth. For a long while, he just stared at the ceiling, reflecting on his years as Pharaoh, which weren't many. He was still quite young for a Pharaoh, but he believed that he had been doing everything correctly, and he believed his people loved him. His father, and former Pharaoh, had died when he was still young and naive, leaving the people in doubt to the new pharaoh which was to take his place.

The boy was so young; the high priests had to rule for two years before they accepted the young prince. And what high priests he had were always so kind to him, yet firm, always offering advice and counsel when he needed it, and not afraid to stand up and tell him when they thought he was doing something wrong. Though, technically, they really had no say in what went down in final order... at least, they hadn't yet.

The Pharaoh motioned for the servants and, ready to act, they cleaned him, washed him, dried him, and dressed him. Standing now, fully clothed in his royal attire, he left the bath house, escorted by one, and was returned to his room, where he supplied the final touches to himself. Eyeliner upon his eyes, making him look threatening yet sexy, and Egyptian musk oil was rubbed into the skin of his neck, chest and wrists. Then finally, the one that had accompanied him handed him his gold bracelets, armbands, anklets, and headband, among other gold things, helped him put them on, and then escorted him back out, and to the throne room.

He sat on the large, gold plaited throne, ready to receive the problems and suggestions from his people.

To his surprise, none came that day, but Seth, his most favored high priest. The said high priest bowed before him, then rose, facing Atem, and staring him directly in the eyes. "My Pharaoh, I wish to speak with you in private, as there has been... a problem in the town."

"Oh?" The tri-color haired pharaoh raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the first time he had ever heard of any sort of trouble amongst his people. Perhaps those dirty thieves were starting something? "Yes, I will grant you such privacy, for I wish to speak with you about something as well."

"Yes, my Pharaoh."

"Good. Accompany me to my chambers."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Run. Run. Run. Run.

Faster. Shadows.

Dead End.

Trapped. Anger. Sorrow. Defiance.

Damn.

The thief hissed, turning to go back the way he came, only to find the stupid guards closing in on him. All he had been doing was running today, and he really didn't feel like it any more. In and out of shadows, and now he was at a dead end. Frustrated, he found himself not willing to give up, but what could he do? He was caught trying to rob another tomb and now he had to pay. But would he? Of course not! He was the king of thieves, and he could get out of anything...

"Stop where you are, Tomb robber!"

"Like I have any choice, you nitwit." He replied, his emotions suddenly cool, calm, and collected.

The guards looked at each other, slightly confused, and angry with the insult. Though, moving ever closer, spears pointed, they cautiously poked at him, wondering if he'd try anything funny.

"Yes, I am a human being, despite what you must think." The thief snarled, smacking the tip of the spear away.

"You are to be placed under the supervision of the high Pharaoh and taken into custody by-"

"Yes, yes, I'm under arrest, I get it."

Why was this thief so calm? Had they the wrong person? ...No, of course not. He must be trying to trick us, one of the guards thought. But they managed to get him and shackle him securely, and drag him back to the palace.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Seth, it is with great worry that I speak to you now. The other high priests think that you may be... tampering with my orders. In other words, they think you might be trying something stupid..." the Pharaoh finished, dropping the formalities. "I do not believe them, of course, but I do want to hear from you. Seth, please tell me why they think this?"

"I am not quite sure my beloved Pharaoh. I swear to you I have done nothing but follow your every order and whim." Seth advanced upon him, pulling the slightly shorter Pharaoh into his arms and kissing him deeply. He felt the younger man nearly melt into him, as all doubt was erased from his mind, just as planned. Within minutes, the Pharaoh was half undressed and moaning softly as Seth kissed down his chest and groped at his beautifully tanned skin.

"Seth..." The young one breathed, clutching at the high Priest tightly, as if he was his last life line.

"Atem..." The priest breathed back. It was a very bold move, calling him by his real name, as not many were allowed to. Only those who were close like family. But the Pharaoh hardly noticed, too intoxicated by the feelings and blind love he felt for this other. In fact, the royalty loved to hear his name fall from Seth's lips, for he hardly ever heard his name, and was beginning to think he didn't have one.

From the cracked door, eyes peered into the Pharaoh's chambers, narrow and disgusted. Not by the fact that it was two males, but by the fact that this one knew Seth was manipulating the Pharaoh with his good looks and charm, and it was putting them all in danger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scythe: Sooooo? How is it? Is it good, or what? Well, I should hope so. I honestly like how this is turning out... I mean, I had the skeleton of this plot, but no meat... and now its starting to fill in. WOO!

Bakura: You know... the intro to this fic would have been so much better if you had left out the whole 'poked him in the eye' bit.

Scythe: ... o.o.... So?!

Bakura: ... and... in the contract that I signed, it never said I would be captured by the guards of that stupid pharaoh.

Scythe: GAH! Shut up! They might hear you! You gave it AWAAAYY...

Yami: Not like they couldn't tell anyways...

Scythe: Anyways, please Reviewwww!!! I beg of thee!