Author's Note: Thanks for clicking! This is my first story so any feedback is appreciated! I've compiled a list of what is officially recognized as the 18 pairs from The Shipper's List. I know there are a bajillion of them, but as a challenge to myself, I'm going to write something for each of these specified pairings plus a few extras. Some may be novels, others just one-shots. AU or in universe. I'll let you know. In any case, thanks for checking in and I hope you enjoy my first shot at writing fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, I wouldn't be living in my parents basement working two minimum wage jobs. Yu-Gi-Oh! Is the property of Kazuki Takahashi.

Warning: This is an AU fanfic (Alternate Universe). There is foul language and will feature a male x male pairing. I have this rated T, but as the material develops, I will update the rating accordingly.

I update every Wednesday!

Enjoy!

It was a clear night out at the warehouse center, where a few security guards ambled around the premises. It was already 3 am and the few officers there were tired, ready for their shift to be over. Guarding a warehouse was one of the more mundane tasks. The company they were dealing with strictly required high security for their cargo however, so the handful of guards unlucky enough to be called on duty found themselves frustrated and bored. There was only so much pacing around and through the warehouses one could do before resigning themselves to their depressing lot.

The cargo loaded there would be departing early the following morning. To anyone observing this holding bay, this cargo was no different than any other units this warehouse previously housed. The crates were labeled under the Kaiba Corp logo, likely being the parts needed for the new duel disk system that was all the rage in Japan. If someone were to look more closely on the shipping tags, they would notice that the crates destination was not to Kaiba Corp. Instead, this cargo would be taken 200 kilometers north to the Domino Museum. A small team of archaeologists and Egyptian historians had created a temporary partnership to have the artifacts delivered under the Kaiba Corp logo to ensure its security. In return, the team would allow the Kaiba Corp creative team special privileges to view the never-before-seen designs and carvings, hopefully to give inspiration and ideas for the new Duel Monsters card designs. The crates held many ancient Egyptian artifacts, including several tablets of beasts and monsters that had been carved into stone and then hidden for thousands of years.

But these ancient drawings held no interest for the man who had managed to sneak on to the premises and now made his way to the guarded warehouse. He was no fool – he knew what was truly hidden in these crates. And there was one item in particular that he desired. He smirked as he watched two security guards walk past, not seeing the man hidden in the shadows only a few meters away. Conveniently by having guards, the thief knew which warehouse held the Egyptian artifacts. That alone made his job easier tonight. He crept silently along the side of the warehouse, careful to keep to the shadows. The last thing he needed was his white hair to shine in the moonlight and given away his position.

He carefully took his time, tracing the edge of the warehouse to find himself an opening. He soon found his chance as he glanced up. About two meters above his head, he saw a closed window with the latch undone. It looks like the latch had broken ages ago and no one had noticed. His dark brown eyes glinted with a crimson edge as he took in his surroundings and carefully listened for any approaching guards. Once he was sure the coast was clear, the man walked a few paces back from the wall, staring up towards the window. He had to be quick and quiet about this, studying the wall carefully as he mentally prepared where his holds would be. Rubbing his hands together and bouncing lightly on his feet, he ran towards the wall, speeding up as he got closer to the wall.

He leapt up, his foot catching as one of his hands found a perch to help support his weight. He was still a meter below the window. But this thief was a seasoned expert, swinging his arm and shoulders to give himself momentum to help hoist himself the rest of the distance. His free hand found the edge of the window and he was able to pull the rest of his body closer to the entrance. He quickly dug his finger to the corner of the window, pulling out from the building, praying the window wouldn't make a noise. His prayers were answer as the window snapped open in relative quiet. The thief allowed himself to grin wider as he crawled into the building, landing on the ground before quickly rolling back into the shadows behind one of the crates.

The thief took pride in his handiwork, glancing back up at the window he had just entered through. He thought of an early conversation he had with his brother a few days before. If things worked out on this mission, he would be on step closer towards the grand prize. The commission that was put out offered a hefty reward that would set him and his brother for life. His brother had called him the King of Thieves. More specifically, he called him "the Thief King Bakura." And Bakura didn't mind. With the reward money, he would certainly be as rich as a king. The assignment, however, was very risky and very difficult. The client had offered this job to only a few "acquisition specialists." And as an expert "acquisition specialist," Bakura was certainly was not going to let his reputation be tarnished by some competitor. No, if he succeeded, Bakura truly would be the King of Thieves – best in the business with more money than he or his brother would know what to do.

Bakura glanced around to check on the security. Though it was silent, he was sure there had to be a few guards remaining inside. Sure enough, Bakura saw a guard walking down through the boxes, unaware of the new figure that had entered the building. Bakura watched him carefully as he walked towards the Southern entrance. Eyes narrowing, he trailed him quietly, his black clothes allowing him to keep to the shadows despite his white hair. He supposed it was vanity that kept him from hiding his hair. But he had yet to fail a mission, yet to be caught. On any given mission, he would disappear like smoke, no trace to be found. Bakura was a careful and smart man – he would not be so foolish as to let himself be caught in a compromising situation. Besides, he was rather proud of his wild long mane.

Bakura watched from afar as the guard he had been following walk towards another guard who was standing in front of a group of crates. There were two dozen crates on the far west side and Bakura noticed that one guard was always stationed closest to this group. This group of crates also happened to bear the Kaiba Corp logo on the side, as compared to the other crates he had been passing which all had different destinations. Had he not known of the business partnership, Bakura would have brushed this information off and continued searching the warehouse independently. But he knew that Kaiba Corp had something to gain by working with the Egyptian team. His research indicated that the CEO of Kaiba Corp apparently knew a few of the archaeologists from the dig that unearthed several of the tablets. With the timing, the display at the Domino museum, with careful hacking and Intel research, Bakura knew he had found the jackpot.

Now that he found the Egyptian artifacts, Bakura quickly made his way off to the side, looking to explore the crates. Once he was in the guard's peripheral, he sped silently towards the metal crates, looking at the crate numbers as he ran by. Bakura was not one to make friends and the few friends he had, he rarely spoke to about work. However, he did make one important connection with a woman at the museum. He was able to wheedle the information out of her, details of the delivery that only she and few others would know. Despite knowing that he intended on stealing a piece of her country's history, she still gave him the crate number he needed. He read the numbers, looking for crate number 176-92. Inside held one of the seven pieces he needed for the commission. Inside the crate was the Millennium Rod.

Bakura had received a commission to collect seven ancient Egyptian artifacts known as the Millennium Items. Though they themselves were valuable in that they were made of gold, it appeared their history and the context of their creation has been a source of great interest and fascination. History and legends spoke of these mysterious items for thousands of years, and yet many historians had written these objects off as myth. However, recent years have proven successful as archaeologists have confirmed that these Millennium Items do exist. Much like the Mona Lisa, their value was considered priceless.

Despite their priceless nature of these items, Bakura could care less of their history. He was more interested in the weighty paycheck that he would receive if he was able to collect all seven items. Bakura wasn't entirely sure why his client desired the seven Millennium items, but it wasn't his place to snoop. No other buyer had offered nearly as much as his client did and Bakura was not about to waste an opportunity. He had spent the last several months carefully researching, bribing, threatening, stealing, tricking, and manipulating people to get his hands on these Millennium Items. He had already succeeded getting three of the items. If things went well tonight, he would have four of the treasures needed.

Bakura stopped in front of a large crate, staring up at the large 176-92. This was it. The Millennium Rod was held inside this case. He walked up to the crate, placing his hands on top and hoisting himself on top of the crate. He glanced around from above, keeping an eye on the security guards a row away, oblivious to the thief at hand. He pulled his bag in front of him, looking for the tools he needed to careful force open the crate. He debated cutting out the bolts, but that would draw attention. And since he was still at least 40 kilometers away from town where he was staying the night, he didn't want the guards to walk by and notice anything unusual lest he were stopped on the drive back. The difficulties of working alone.

Bakura was abruptly interrupted from his thoughts with the sound of a loud bang. It sounded like a fight outside. Bakura's instincts instantly flared up as he searched for the source of the commotion. The guards that were standing closest to the crates bolted up and drew their guns, cautiously approaching. Bakura remained frozen on top of the crate, watching the two guards. What was going on out there? It was only a moment later, when the two doors on the West Entrance, opposite of where Bakura initially entered, busted open as several men in cloaks fired their guns. The two security officers fell immediately to the ground, never having the chance to fire back. Shit, Bakura swore inwardly as he slid off the back of the crate and ran down the aisle. Once he was five crates down, he found an alcove to climb up, sneaking up so that he could remain close to Crate 176-92 while still remain out of site. Positioning himself between the two crates, he glanced out, still able to see his crate but keep an eye out across the rest of the warehouse. Perhaps if he was lucky, these new assailants were interested in something else in the warehouse and not the Egyptian artifacts. He watched as half a dozen men, cloaked and armed, walked through the building, keeping watch for any more guards.

Bakura felt a wave of frustration as these intruders now approached the collection of crates that held the Egyptian artifacts. Double shit, Bakura swore again. The chances that these thieves were here to steal stone tablets seemed slim. There were many ancient relics and treasures. Sure the stone tablets and pottery would be worth much, but precious metals sell far better on the black market. The finest items made of gold and silver, encrusted in gems were encased in these crates. Frustratingly, the Millennium Rod was also made of gold. If they find it, they'll likely take it. It isn't as valuable to them as it was to Bakura though. But what was he to do? Bakura hadn't brought a gun with him – he had planned to make this a clean in-and-out mission. He only had his two knives with him and they weren't going to do much against the eight armed men only a few crates away.

He watched as they searched the crates, reading the numbers as Bakura had done. They didn't try opening any crates yet. Instead them seemed to be searching a specific crate. Bakura felt his stomach drop. No, no, no… Bakura moaned inwardly. This could not be happening. It took all he had not to swear out loud as this little band of thieves stood in front of Crate 176-92. God damn it all! After all this time, now the competition decides to step in! Bakura reeled in anger. Yes, Bakura knew he wasn't the only one who had been offered this job. A few other acquisition specialists had also been offered this job. It had become somewhat of a race. But Bakura was the top of his game and considered himself the best out there. He stayed ahead of the game and always was one step in front of the competition. Well it appeared the competition had finally caught up. And they were armed this time.

Bakura watched as a few of the men placed explosives at the four corners of the crate, preparing to blow out the door and open up the crate. Bakura narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Were they trying to destroy the artifact while they were at it? He watched one of them who seemed to be giving instructions. He stood tall above the other men. His head was clean shaven, skin a dark tan not commonly found in Japan. From his angle, Bakura noticed that the left side of face was covered in tattoos. His voice was low and deep. "Hurry. It won't be long before the police respond," he ordered, watching the men finish loading the charges. Bakura noticed that the man had a slight accent, but he couldn't hazard a guess as to where the man was from.

The men stepped back and ran for cover behind a few crates a little bit away. Bakura quickly realized what was to come and braced himself between the crates where he was perched. He felt the explosion more than he heard it. The jolt shocked through his body, like a car accident forcing your body to stop after being in motion. The noise of the crate cracking open rang through the air. Bakura steadied himself as he continued to fume. Do they not know the meaning of discretion? What kind of thieves are so loud and crass? Their craft is sloppy! Bakura raged inwardly as he now watched the men file into the crate, searching for the treasure. The fact that these men were asked to hunt down these ancient relics and were so novice in the approach infuriated Bakura. This fact only made Bakura even more angry because despite their lack of skill and stealth, they were succeeding. They were going to steal the Millennium Rod and all he could do was sit back and watch them.

The men exited out as they formed two lines outside of the crate. The bald man from before stood in the entrance of the crate, holding a carefully wrapped object in his arms. Bakura watched hungrily as he stared the package. That had to be the rod – there was no doubt about it. He started to figure out the odds of him being able to take the Millennium artifact from the man and make his way of the center. He suspected it wasn't likely, but if he kept close, he might find a window. Bakura shifted to a crouching position before dropping to the floor. He crept behind the crates until he was closer, carefully watching the men. They had lined up in front of the crate, waiting for something. He figured they were waiting for orders from the bald man, but the man said nothing. He seemed to watch something out of Bakura's vision. Perhaps their boss? Bakura speculated. That would be the only reason why they were waiting. Perhaps the true thief, the one who commissioned them was coming. Bakura narrowed his eyes as he tried to glimpse who was coming.

"Did you find it, Odion?" a nasally voice rang out loudly. Bakura almost jolted at the abrasive sound that broke the silence. Bakura wasn't sure, but the voice sounded young. Too young. "Yes Master Marik. We have found the Millennium Rod," the bald man named Odion held out the clothed package. Bakura watched as a young man entered. Due to his angle, Bakura couldn't catch his face, but he was also dressed in a dark purple robe. His hood was down revealing his white-golden hair. His skin was also a dark tan color like the bald man. He was also considerably shorter, maybe even shorter than Bakura. Bakura gritted his teeth. So this was his competition. It was hard to get a read on the young man, but Bakura didn't dare approach any closer. He was already closer than he should be. However, he knew he needed to find out more on the young man. He leaned in carefully to listen in.

The young man (named Marik. A foreign name) reached out and took the package from Odion. He unwrapped it to reveal a beautiful golden scepter. The shaft was about two feet long, forming a golden orb with an eye sculpted upon it and two golden wings flaring to each side of the eye. Even from a distance, Bakura knew the craftsmanship of the rod was exquisite. He had seen first hand with the other items he had collected. The young man chuckled, but it came off as a high-pitch cackle. Not at all like Bakura's deeper baritone voice. "At last! The Millennium Rod! Just where Ishizu said it would be. I wonder if it grants any powers? It really is quite beautiful," Marik mused out loud. Marik took the rod and held it out in front of him to take in more of the detail, studying it and swinging it. Bakura resisted the urge to race forward and snatch the rod. Doing so right now would be equivalent to a death sentence. He knew that he could handle this young man hold the Millennium artifact, but Odion definitely did not seem like an opponent he wished to cross. Especially now that Odion drew his shotgun.

"Master Marik, we should go now. The police will be here soon," Odion rumbled out, glancing around as if the police would burst in any second. Though Bakura couldn't tell staring at the back of Marik's head, but he could of sworn the young man glared at Odion before motioning with his arm for his men to move out. "Well, tell the police to eat my dust then!" Marik declared almost childishly. Bakura growled. Marik's voice was really starting to get under his skin (more so now than it did before). He turned around to walk out, but Bakura was able to steal a glance at the young man. Man wasn't even the word he would use – he was practically a teenager. His face had a youthful look to them. He noticed the eyeliner under his eyes, something Bakura wouldn't normally notice but was so thick and excessive. Yet despite his heavy make-up, Bakura was taken back by the boy's eyes. They were a strange lilac color. It seemed so strange to see the color of flowers caught in this young teen's eyes. Bakura felt a strange feeling as he looked at the boy's eyes.

And then he noticed the golden eye on the rod as the boy strutted away, Odion trailing behind. Oh hell no. You're not leaving with my rod, Bakura grimaced to himself, now moving to follow the boy. Bakura didn't get far before a large explosion, even larger than the first, tore a massive hold in the side of the building. Bakura, shocked and unprepared, fell backwards as he covered his head to protect himself from any flying shrapnel. Smoke started to fill the warehouse and Bakura became aware of the sound of motorcycles revving. He tried to regain his senses as he searched around widely, still trying to figure out what happen. The loud cackle of Marik as he drove away with his entourage snapped Bakura back to reality. That little bastard! I'm going to kill him! Bakura was beyond reason. He couldn't believe how wrong everything had gone. And it was because of that snot-nosed brat playing cops and robbers.

Speaking of cops…

"STOP! WE HAVE THE PREMISE SURROUNDED! PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN!" Bakura heard a voice on a megaphone as the police swarmed the warehouse center. "As if things couldn't get worse," Bakura groaned softly. Thankfully, the police hadn't noticed his presence as they were focused on the escaping motorcycle gang outside of the warehouse. Bakura rose to his feet and looked around. He knew it would be stupid to exit out the same out Marik and his team did. Remembering the window, Bakura raced across the warehouse, not caring who might see him. This mission was botched. Bakura had nothing except a trespassing charge to risk at this point. He saw the open window and raced towards it. A few seconds later, Bakura had already scaled the wall and dropped down on the other side. The moment his feet hit the ground, Bakura raced towards the fence, not sparing a moment to glance around. Stealth was not an option any more. He had to get out and fast.

The police were preoccupied on the other side of the warehouse. They didn't see the young man clothed in black, white hair billowing behind him as he sprinted across the grounds. Bakura narrowed his eyes as he came across the chain-linked fence. He climbed over and soon found himself creeping through the foliage. He found his motorcycle that he had left a couple of hours ago. Bakura, exhausted and frustrated, kicked his ride into gear as he followed a dirt trail leading out to the highway. Bakura knew he was at least another half hour away from his hotel and that the entire he would be fuming over his failed mission. Everything was going perfectly until that Marik brat showed up and screwed everything up! What was supposed to be a clean and easy mission had turned into a disaster. Bakura tightened his grip on the handle and gritted his teeth, letting out a stream of swears as he sped down the highway.

Damn that Marik! He's going to pay for all of this! Damn it all!