Should You Choose to Accept It, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Shadow: A much, much belated birthday present for my beloved Compy-kun – Compy, happy belated birthday-Christmas-new year-Chinese new year-early valentine's day. XD

Hope you like it.

Warnings: Technically, it was supposed to be Antagoshipping (Bakura x Seto), but as editing got hold, it became more implied only. So – hint's of boy x boy, and a bit of language from the two yelling at one another.

Translations (Japanese):

Baka - idiot

Yami – darkness/dark

Hikari - light

Dorobou - thief

Yadounishi -landlord

Should You Choose to Accept It

23: 55 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

So this is what it comes to. One pinned Seto Kaiba, lying somewhat bemusedly on his bed, with one Yami Bakura – notably dressed in little more than a bathrobe - perched not-too comfortably on his chest. Both of them staring at the doorway, where an agape Mokuba Kaiba stands after having just entered the room. None of them with any idea of what to say.

Then – a sigh, white hair casually flicked back off sharp features, Bakura settling himself a little more firmly into his seat (completely ignoring the faint sounds of protest beneath him).

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

18: 08 December Twenty-first

State Route 604, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Discuss morality with Bakura

Feasibility: This is Bakura we're talking about…

"-And remember: no stealing, no killing, and no sealing people's souls into their playing cards because they beat you."

"…So I can seal their souls into their playing cards for other reasons?"

"No."

"Dammit…" A sigh, wispy white hair blown up into the sky with the exhaled breath. "Ryou, why did you bring me to Vegas if I'm not allowed to have any fun?" A wistful glance at the bright lights just out of reach, the masses pouring into the havens of decadence where the roulettes whirled, the stacks tumbled, and the constant clink of money was man's favourite tune.

Ryou Bakura put his hands on his hips, unconsciously looking extraordinarily like a parent about to launch into a lecture to their recalcitrant child for the nth time. "Stealing – be it of souls or material possessions – and killing is not supposed to be fun, Bakura" The young Brit ignored the swirling crowds around his darker half and himself, concentrating solely on the almost sulky expression of his troublesome other self. "Those actions are illegal."

Brown eyes looked at the light flatly. "Hence the 'fun' part."

"Whether they're fun or not, you are not doing them. Any of them. Or else."

"Else what?"

"Else I fly back to Japan at the end of this week with both the Ring and the passports, and give Yami no Yugi the Ring while you're left stranded here."

"You wouldn't dare." Slight hesitance, Bakura's doubt as he tried to stare down his resolute 'hikari'.

Ryou smiled, sweetly: "Try me."

Internally, Bakura vowed to try and behave (in between the plotting of revenge on certain irritating other halves). Externally, he scowled. "Fine."

"Fine what?" The faintest traces of a smile touched the corners of Ryou's lips – he'd realised he'd won, and was quite happily revelling in it.

His companion's brow wrinkled in confusion. "'Fine what' what?"

It took a few minutes to understand that statement. "…Promise me you'll behave yourself, and try to keep out of trouble. Alright?" A long silence, odd amidst of crowd of excited people. "Bakura, promise me."

Slowly, reluctantly, a repeated comment: "….Fine." Bakura looked and sounded sullen. "I promise. But I can't help it if trouble finds me, yadounishi."

Ryou snorted, but left the conversation at that. "Come on." He grabbed his darker half's arm, dragging the other into the droves entering one of the many great casinos in front of them. "We have some money to lose."

18: 54 December Twenty-first

Monte Carlo Casino-Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Bakura wondered why he'd ever agreed to this trip. When Ryou had first proposed it to him, a few months back, he'd been doubtful, but with time and coaxing Ryou had convinced him and – here they were, after sneaking past the metal detector (you try getting past one when you're so laden down with knives you'll sink the moment you hit water!!) and many hours of faith in that flying tin can Ryou called an aeroplane. (Bakura had a lot more colourful names for it, but he'd been politely requested by the cabin air hostess not to yell them so loudly as he was upsetting the other passengers.)

Las Vegas. The city that never slept – or was that New York? It wasn't as if Bakura truly cared, anyway. This was a city devoted to gambling, to the nightlife, to adults' 'playtime'. This was the city where a man could make his millions – or more likely lose them, Bakura's more cynical side pointed out, to the vast money-snatching moguls who owned the city casinos.

"Bakura." A hiss, Ryou jabbing his darker half in the side. The two of them were playing Blackjack, side by side, and Bakura was having a string of luck. Of course, this also meant Ryou automatically accused him of cheating of some sort…

Bakura gave a half-hearted attempt to defend his honour, laying down a Queen and Ace to beat the dealer's score of sixteen. "I swear to you, Ryou, everything I'm doing is perfectly legit."

"Then how come you keep winning?" Ryou himself wasn't doing too badly, but his luck was nowhere near his yami's.

"You forget, omote, it's not just the Puzzle brats who are good at games." Bakura collected his winnings, smiling rather smugly at the man whose chips he'd just won.

"…You shouldn't call them brats, Bakura. They're twenty-three, same age as us." Ryou himself had beaten the dealer, scooping some chips for himself. "Well, Yugi is. The same. As me, I mean -"

"I get the point, hikari." Bakura didn't want to talk about Yugi Mouto and his dratted yami – they'd come on holiday to forget them and everyone in Domino, hadn't they?

"Still," Ryou put some chips in for another hand, "why are you winning? It can't just be -"

Annoyed at having his integrity questioned again, Bakura scooped up his chips, shoving them into the small bag he'd slung over his shoulder for that evening. "I'm going to go play something else."

"Bakura -" Ryou stretched out a hand –

Bakura shook the limb off. "Call me if you need me; I've got my phone." He stalked away.

19: 28 December Twenty-first

Monte Carlo Casino-Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Win at Poker.

Feasibility: Other smug gits appear to be better at the game. (Must make side mission to shoot them at next available opportunity.)

Poker. Bakura was pretty good at the game, pretty damn lucky - if he said so himself -, with a wonderfully impassive face. Table by table he'd gradually moved up until he was playing with those who could afford to fling about two hundred down a hand – and he was winning. About his fifteenth hand of the night at that game and he laid down a straight flush, beating a useless pair, flush, and an irate full house. Some losers had came and went, the dealer looked a little flustered to be losing so much of the house money and –

"What are you doing here?" The voice was annoyingly familiar and, glancing up –

Tone of disapproval with obvious dislike dripping in every word? Check.

Shiny buckles abounding everywhere and an even shinier briefcase? Check.

Utterly ridiculous and overdramatic trenchcoat ensemble? Check.

Hel-lo, Kaiba Seto.

"Kaiba." Bakura acknowledged the other's presence flatly, a little disgruntled to see the CEO. What was the point in escaping Domino if Domino followed him wherever he went? (And if wasn't that far off using that analogy. KaibaCorp owned Domino City – it would only take another step or two before Kaiba started charging for the air the inhabitants breathed.)

"I asked you a question." Kaiba's expression was stony, taking a seat opposite Bakura and joining the game. The dealer dealt him in, the bets were laid.

"I'm on holiday." Bakura flicked through his cards; he had a good hand – four of a kind, kings and an eight. He stuck. Looking back over to Kaiba, the other was impassive. Poker-face. "You do know what one of those is, don't you?" Hands were made around them, laid down. Kaiba spread a royal flush across the table's green felt. Bakura snarled. "That was a fluke."

"Call it what you may, I still won." Kaiba smirked, and some of the other game-players murmured around the table. A few got up and left – had they recognised Kaiba? The man was well-known for being terrifyingly skilled at games of chance and luck, applying his logic…

Bakura snorted, determined not to back down. Cowards. He hung around for another deal. Kaiba won that one too. More people left. Bakura scowled.

"Tell me Bakura…" Kaiba was reclining lazily in his seat, sipping from a tall glass of some spirit or other the waiter had brought him between hands, "how many times is it possible to have a fluke in one evening?" Bakura only scowled at him again, and refused to comment. He lost the following hand.

And so…the night passed. The game might as well have been heads-on, Bakura and Kaiba playing against each other all night, with a few others occasionally drifting in, and veering out again sharpish as Kaiba won again, and again, and again, Bakura stealing only a few victories for himself, the dealer none. The great casino 'eyes-in-the-sky' had to be getting annoyed they were losing so much money…

Right on cue, Bakura spotted some casino guards heading towards their table. Shaking his head at the dealer the once tomb-robber stood, sliding his remaining chips into his bag in one smooth movement.

"Running away, are we?" Kaiba's sneer had returned.

"Not on your life." Bakura's tone was adamant. "I just don't fancy talking to that lot." He nodded a head to the approaching guards. "Too much hassle, and I'd rather not get coerced into signing some casino-barring documents, thanks very much."

"What?" Kaiba followed the line of the albino's gaze…and then stood, getting rid of his own chips rather effectively as well, placing them within his trademark indestructible briefcase. "Hn…yes, leaving sounds like a good idea."

His companion smirked. "Told you so." Kaiba rolled his eyes, about to get up and stride out of the casino's main entrance – "You can't go that way!" Bakura grabbed his arm, wrinkling the smooth sleeve of the dark blue coat the brunet was wearing.

"And why not?" Kaiba was tall…taller than him, and damn it, when the other looked down at you, he really looked down at you.

"All the guards will be that way…" A tug, Bakura pulling Kaiba another way, to where he knew there was likely to be a side-exit, maybe through the kitchens?

Weaving in and out the crowds, avoiding the guards… Bakura had no idea why he'd taken Kaiba with him. He could've just left the CEO at the table to deal with all the casino's hassle but nooo… He had to be the 'good guy' for a change, and try to get out with the irksome brunet.

This was somehow Ryou's fault, he just knew it. And if it wasn't Ryou's fault he was blaming that blasted Pharaoh, because all of Bakura's problems were Yami's fault. Somehow. (So there.)

And oh, Kaiba sucked at escaping. It was painfully obvious the man had never thieved anything physically in his life (computer hacking did not count), on three occasions the executive officer nearly walking straight into some of the guards they were trying so purposefully to avoid. The third time Bakura had been forced to grab the back of Kaiba's coat, but then the brunet had kept walking, and there had been this sickening tearing noise, a heap of midnight blue cloth – no doubt hideously expensive – coming away in Bakura's hand.

Oh bugger. Bakura tried to look placating, but Kaiba's blue eyes were blazing furiously at him.

"…Oops?"

"You tore my coat!!" And boy could the CEO shout loudly. Which wasn't good, as the other kept attracting attention…

"Just be glad it wasn't your shirt, instead." Bakura grabbed the other's collar, abandoning the remains of Kaiba's coat on the floor, and yanked the brunet as far away from that spot as fast as possible. The eyes in the sky could no doubt still see them, but the feet on the floor were still blind, having to rely on hissed instructions from those weird-looking earpieces they wore.

Dodge, duck, dive…weaving in and out and roundabout. Kaiba complained every step of the way, and unless the brunet shut up soon Bakura was going to stop, turn around, and ram a fist through those pretty white teeth of his.

They made it outside, racing past a bunch of surprised cooks who catered for the casino kitchens and out into the night. Once a safe distance from the casino Bakura turned, immediately in rant-mode: "Are you a bloody idiot?!" Brown eyes glared death at Kaiba. "It's your fault we took so long getting out of there! And nearly got caught!! Three times!!" The two of them were standing in alley just off the main strip, just out of range of the lights.

Kaiba scowled back at him, determinedly not shivering even though he'd lost his coat. "It's your fault we had to leave anyway!!"

"My fault? My fault?!" Bakura was still ranting. "You're the one who kept winning!"

A disdainful shrug. "It's not my fault you can't play poker."

"I can play poker perfectly fine!!"

A smirk from Kaiba. "Then why did you keep losing?"

A sniff, Bakura crossing his arms, still looking irritated as hell. "You won by sheer luck."

"Please, it was skill. All it takes is some simple maths –"

"Maths. Peh. Never was one for that subject."

"What, so you were running on sheer luck and intuition back there?"

"They've always stood me in good stead before." Bakura looked sulky, unwilling to admit the other might have beaten him fairly.

A pause. "…I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified."

"Impressed, obviously." Bakura tried for a sneer –

His phone rang. Ignoring Kaiba's raised eyebrow Bakura fished the mobile out of his small bag, flipping it open and lifting it to his ear. Very few people had this number, and only one was likely to be calling at that hour so –

"What do you want, Ryou?"

"Bakura, where are you? I can't see you anywhere." His hikari sounded somewhat peeved on the other end of the line.

"...I'm not in the casino anymore."

"Bakura!! What did you do wrong this time?"

"I didn't do anything 'wrong'. That's the problem - I did too many things right." Bakura paused, running a hand back through his hair distractedly. "I think the owners got pissed at me winning all their cash...Kaiba too."

"Kaiba? You saw Kaiba? Where?"

"I saw quite a bit too much of him yadounishi -" Kaiba glared at the other meaningfully, and so Bakura hastily amended what he'd been about to say, "-he was at my poker table."

"Oh?"

"Aa...when the gorillas moved in I hauled both our asses outta there -" (A hissed: "You're the REASON you had to haul our asses out of there." from Kaiba.) Bakura ignored him. "-and now I have his almighty-stuffiness beside me."

"Bakura..."

"What? Would you have preferred I just stood there and let them cart me off? Hikari, you know I've never been a very passive person -"

Ryou cut in with a low mutter. "That's an understatement..."

"Ryou, I wasn't hanging around to be dragged off to where some balding old man with his white kitty could practise his 'Good evening, Mr. Bond' routine on me."

"...You watch too many Western movies..."

"So nag me about it later." Bakura changed the topic in discussion. "Where are you now? Still in the casino?"

"Yeah...the guy behind the bar's kinda cute and he -"

"-I'm going to kill him. If he lays so much as a 'finger' on you-"

"Bakura, don't be ridiculous. He hasn't done anything."

"No" Bakura calmed down somewhat. "That's alright then."

"...I'm merely ogling him."

"WHAT?!"

Ryou hesitated at the other end: "…Bakura, I'll meet you back at the hotel, alright?"

"No, that's not 'alright'!! Ryou -" A click, and the line went dead. Bakura raised irate eyes to a coolly composed Kaiba. "He hung up on me!!"

"I don't blame him." The brunet crossed his arms. "You're an ass."

His companion snarled. "Shut the bloody hell up, Kaiba, or I'll yank that stick you seem to keep perpetually up your own ass and beat you with it."

A derisive snort from Kaiba. "Whatever you say, baka. Can we move out of this alley now? Someone's going to mistake you for a hooker if we hang around here any longer."

"Why you bloody -" Bakura drew a deep breath, trying vainly to calm himself. As dearly as he wished to lunge at Kaiba at that precise moment in time and shove the smirking brunet's head straight through the nearest wall, he had bigger things to think about. "You know what?" He tried to be the bigger man. "You're just not worth it."

"I'm worth a hundred of you." Kaiba crossed his arms, a little irked to be dismissed so easily. "Literally."

"Money means nothing."

"Says the thief."

Bakura growled, his temper rising again, but still he tried… "I'm going back to the casino to get Ryou."

"You want to go back into the casino we just escaped from, simply so you can batter some poor soul who had the general stupidity and misfortune to chat up the hikari of an over-possessive moron?" Kaiba was needling the other deliberately.

"…That's about it, yeah." A pause, Bakura suddenly catching the subtle insult in the comment. "And I'm not over-possessive."

A smug grin from his taller companion. "But you are a moron."

…Killing Kaiba suddenly seemed like an extremely good idea…

22: 16 December Twenty-first

Monte Carlo Casino-Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Rescue Ryou.

Feasibility: Ryou doesn't know he's getting 'rescued' and may attempt to claw a certain yami's eyes out later. Plus, Kaiba's an ass.

Ryou easily stood out from the crowd, the only white-haired individual in the room at the moment. (Anyone else there with white hair had apparently taken the liberty in dyeing away their snowy locks, wanting to appear as young and savvy as possible while in Vegas.) The Brit was sitting on one of the stools at the bar, twirling the straw in his drink absentmindedly while he kept talking and smiling at the bartender there – and the bartender seemed to be quite happily talking and smiling back.

Bakura's temper rose, leaning over a balustrade overlooking the main casino, hiding from the view of the eyes in the sky by artfully concealing himself behind a handy plant-pot. And plant, obviously. (His hair, bat-winged and obvious, stuck out rather horribly and was damnably noticeable, but if anyone saw the white twitchy things growing out of the leaves they were wise enough not to comment.)

A sigh from behind him. "Possessive, much?" Kaiba was counting the light fixtures on the wall opposite, bored.

"Shut up, you. You didn't have to come."

"I didn't want to come – you dragged me here."

"Kaiba," Bakura turned to glare at the other, "if you really hadn't wanted to come, you wouldn't be here."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you make a fool of yourself yet again."

A low growl. "When have I ever made a fool of myself?"

The laconic reply: "When haven't you ever made a fool of yourself?"

"…I can see why you and the blasted Pharaoh get on so well." Bakura didn't bother to even glance back at his companion that time. "Someone should lock you in a room with him all day; I'm sure you'd entertain each other endlessly with your overflowing wit."

"Baka Dorobou, have you ever heard the expression 'pot, kettle, black'?"

"Shut up, Kaiba." The man's voice was beginning to get on Bakura's nerves. "I'm trying to figure out a way to get Ryou out of here without having to run up to him in person, and your snide little jabs aren't helping."

"Just wait a few hours." Kaiba moved to stand at his side, glancing over his shoulder at the bar down below where Ryou was still flirting with the tender there. "The bartender'll have to come off of his shift sometime, and then I'm sure your precious hikari will be more than happy to accompany him back to his room." At Bakura's growl, a faint smirk stole across the CEO's face. "He's a grown man now, thief. He can make his own decisions."

"…Maybe, but that doesn't mean they're the right ones."

"Nobody's perfect."

Bakura staged a mock-gasp. "Not even your exalted self? Kaiba – maybe you're not as egocentric as we all thought."

This time it was the brunet who scowled. "Baka, why don't you just give up now? There's no way you can approach Ryou from here without being seen by the casino cameras, and I doubt anything less than your physical presence is going to shift the man. "

"There has to be a way…"

"Can you think of one?"

There was a long silence, Bakura sinking into thought. Bored, Kaiba watched him, Bakura's brow creasing as he puzzled over he problem presented him. It was an odd look for the thief, to look so contemplative, but it oddly…suited him? (Oh the horror. Bakura actually suited an expression that looked somewhat intellectual? The world was surely coming to an end.)

The casino life continued on below them. The roulettes whirled, the balls clattered, money clinked and chinked as it changed hands, traded for piles of brightly-coloured plastic. The fountains in the casino atrium tinkled merrily, the dealers called out for bets. The crowds murmured and laughed, cried and went about their business and pleasure in their brightest and best of clothes, determined to have fun.

"Kaiba…" Bakura's voice shocked Kaiba out of his thoughts.

"What?"

The white-haired yami wasn't looking down at his other half anymore. Instead, he was looking back on the corridor behind the balustrade, at the stick-out box attached to the wall…

A nod to the box, the clear plastic covering, the handle beneath. The wonderful label proclaiming 'FIRE' in red letters. "What's that?"

22: 22 December Twenty-first

Monte Carlo Casino-Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Ryou was having a good time. Admittedly, he'd lost more than he'd won that evening, but who didn't expect that in Vegas? Still…he'd had fun gaming and gambling, and now he was quite happily perched at the casino bar while possibly one of the cutest young men in existence was flirting with him. (And had he mentioned the guy was cute?)

The first drink had been 'on the house', an obvious invitation to hang around and, now he had-

"Having fun?" The bartender was back, after having served another customer. His smile was adorable, all enthusiasm and light, and it looked wonderful with his green eyes. (And they were pretty green eyes.)

"I can't quite say," Ryou tried to look coy, "you keep vanishing on me before I can tell."

His admirer laughed. "I thought the Japanese were meant to be shy?" They'd been talking earlier in the evening and Ryou had revealed where he'd flown in from.

Ryou smiled a little smugly. "British by birth." He waved a hand.

A raised eyebrow. "And I thought the British were meant to be shy as well!"

"Not shy, just cynical." Ryou paused, pretending to think for a few seconds. "And good at queuing."

Another laugh, the bartender suddenly plucking up a stray napkin from behind the counter, and producing a pen. "Well then, oh not-so-shy-one, can I have your number?"

"Only if I can have yours first."

"Certainly…" Another napkin was produced, the server scribbling down some numbers before presenting it to Ryou. "Is this acceptable to my good sir?"

Ryou smiled, taking the napkin and tucking it into his pocket. "Only if you pick up at the other end when I try calling it."

"Hey, if I know it's you calling, I'd be an idiot not to." The pen was passed over. "Now…your number?"

"Sure…" Ryou picked up the pen –

And suddenly the casino was blaring with noise, a loud siren, the electric machines on the floor cut off, and water was gushing from the ceiling.

22: 37 December Twenty-first

State Route 604, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Attempt to look innocent.

Feasibility: Hikari is pissed, and you're soaking wet. Innocence is…hard to achieve.

The masses poured onto Las Vegas' main strip from the Monte Carlo Casino-Hotel, a mixture of frightened, confused and annoyed. The sirens were still blaring in the background, and Bakura and Kaiba found themselves trapped amidst a large swirl of people, unable to get out. They, just like those around them, were soaking wet.

The taller of the two leaned a little closer to his companion, voice a low hiss. "Couldn't you have thought of some other way to have gotten everyone out?" Water dripped off Kaiba's fringe, damp bangs clinging to the CEO's pale face. He was kinda attractive like that, albeit in a 'drowned rat' sort of way, with his porcelain skin and luminous blue eyes. More than a little like an expensive doll, only with a vicious temper, and stinging tongue.

"Hey," Bakura took up a defensive position, "my idea worked, didn't it?"

"We're both drenched!!"

"Well we can just dry off, can't we? Now," Bakura began trying to push his way out through the crowds, shoving people aside to get through, "we really need to get out of here before -"

"Before what, yami?"

"Ah." Bakura stopped dead, pasting a smile on his face and turning around to meet livid brown eyes set in a usually demure face. "Yadounishi. How good to see you. I thought you were staying in the casino for a while?"

"As you can perhaps tell, oh other half of mine, the casino has been evacuated." Ryou glared at his darker side, a droplet of water dripping off the end of his nose. He was pretty wet…

"Why's that?" Bakura tried for innocence. Kaiba, standing a little behind Ryou, tried – and failed- to hide his amusement.

"Someone set off the fire alarm – and there doesn't appear to be a fire."

"Really? How terrible."

"Isn't it." Not a question. Rather, a flat-out glare at Bakura. "Amazing, isn't it Bakura, that someone should set off the fire alarm while I'm still inside the casino doing something my paranoid other half has an issue with?"

The failing innocent façade was dragged out again. "Hikari, I simply don't know what you're talking about. You were doing something I would have a problem with?"

"Yes, and then the fire alarm goes off." Ryou's voice was all but dripping icicles. "While you were inside as well."

"Inside? Oh no, Ryou – I was well away from the casino when -"

"Yami dearest, you're dripping wet from the casino sprinklers."

"-Oh. Yes. Well…um." Bakura bit his lip. Ryou's eyes narrowed at him, clearly annoyed. "Hikari, I can explain."

"Try me."

22: 49 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

"Nii-sama!" A blur of black greeted Kaiba the moment he set foot inside the Luxor Hotel foyer, something lean and tall and dressed in pristine clothes colliding at a breakneck speed with the even taller brunet –

Before casually taking a step back, frowning down at a large damp patch on his sky-blue shirt. "Nii-san, you're soaking."

Meet Kaiba Mokuba – nineteen years old, two inches shorter than his older brother, and ever so blunt.

Blue-grey eyes, a few shades of Seto's infamous aquamarine, glanced over their elder brother's shoulder. "Ryou…? Bakura…?" The usually clear orbs widened dramatically. "What are you two guys doing here?"

Bakura, standing away from his lighter half (Ryou had yelled at him for a good while, and his hikari was still sulking with him), retorted with his own: "Well what are you doing here? You're not even twenty-one yet!!"

"Do I look like I'm in a casino?" Mokuba crossed his arms over his chest, taking on a somewhat haughty manner (eerily reminiscent of his older brother). "Some of KaibaCorp's clients prefer to mix their business with their pleasure – we had to arrange a meeting here in Vegas with two of them. As Vice-President of the family corporation, it was felt I should attend."

"More like he insisted…" Kaiba let out a quiet sigh, attracting his sibling's attention once more. "Mokuba, I need to go get changed, as do the bipolar twins behind me -"

"You're staying here?" Mokuba cut off his brother once more, a grin spreading over his face as he moved over to Ryou.

"The name was Egypt-themed." Ryou smiled tiredly, pushing his wet fringe back off of his face. "How could we choose to stay somewhere else?"

23: 07 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

"Ryou, you're being completely unreasonable."

No reply.

"Ryou."

Still no reply.

"Ryou, seriously. Open the door."

The door remained firmly shut.

"Ryou!"

Bakura sighed, smacking his head against the solid wood of the door to the room he was supposed to be sharing with his lighter half in the Luxor Hotel. Everything had been all well and good when they'd arrived in Las Vegas the night before, when Ryou had been a happy, docile little bunny and everything had been happy-happy right up til' the point Bakura accidentally up-ended the whole bottle of shampoo down the bath's drain and Ryou had had nothing to wash his hair with. And that had still been fine because Bakura had been as repentant as he could've physically been about the entire affair, and Ryou couldn't bar him out of the room because he was already in it. Tonight though, was an entirely different matter.

"Ryou, open the goddamn door!" Bakura lost his temper and kicked the wood. Then, as the pain flared up his leg and he collapsed against a nearby wall in agony felt it prudent to add: "Please."

The door flew open, an irate Ryou filling the space. "Would you quit making so much noise?! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Ryouu…" Bakura tried wheedling, "please let me come back into the room."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because you ruined my evening, that's why!"

"Really, you're just being petty -"

"You got the whole casino evacuated, and got me drenched!!"

"Details, details."

Ryou scowled. "You're not coming back in here tonight. Go find somewhere else to sleep."

"But Ryou -"

"Go. Now."

"Oh – fine." Bakura stormed off down the corridor, mutinous.

Behind him, the door to the room he should've been sharing with his other half slammed shut.

23: 15 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Appeal to Kaiba's better nature.

Feasibility: …Kaiba actually has a better nature?

Bakura presented his proposition with his most demure smile, and air of humble pleading.

Kaiba considered his air, dismissed the smile, and shot the idea down flatly. "No."

"Oh – but why not?" Bakura had to resist the urge to lose his temper. Losing his temper would get him nowhere, especially with Kaiba. Especially when he was trying to con one of the Kaiba brothers out of their room for the night…

"There are many reasons, and I don't have time to name them all." Kaiba had his hands folded across his chest, and his expression was stony. He was still wet – apparently Bakura had caught the CEO right before he'd been heading for the shower.

"Try the main ones."

"Fine." Kaiba shifted, clearly uncomfortable in his damp clothes. "One, you're a thief. How do I know you won't steal my belongings? Two, you're an idiot, and you'd probably break something valuable. Three, you annoy the hell out of me, and I think I've had quite enough of your company already this evening."

Bakura looked wounded. "But those are all such…superficial reasons!"

Kaiba was having none of it. "You're a superficial person."

"I'm hurt."

"Good. Go away."

"I'll stand out here all night."

"I'll call security."

"I'm a paying patron here."

"I'm a paying patron who pays a significantly larger sum than you."

"I'll set Shadow monsters on them and blame it on your faulty holographic technology."

"My technology is not faulty!"

"Let me in, or people will think it is." Bakura crossed his arms, mimicking his taller companion's pose. "And isn't that enough to ruin someone in the world of business? Supposition? Thoughts?"

There was a long pause. Blue and brown glared at each other, the only sound in the corridor the drip of water hitting the floor from damp cloth and hair.

"…Very well." Kaiba opened his door a little, clearly unhappy to be doing so. "You may stay here. For one night only. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Bakura didn't really care. He had somewhere warm to sleep, room service, and a stubborn companion to annoy. What more could he ask for?

23: 31 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mokuba swiped the spare electronic key through the lock of his brother's bedroom, infinitely glad once more in his brother's fortune for being able to buy the privilege of spare keys for hotel rooms so he didn't have to wait outside while his brother finished showering – the sound of the water could be heard going from his own room, next door. There were things he wanted to discuss with Seto, and go over the following day's itinerary –

Mokuba stopped dead in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the bedraggled form of one Yami Bakura sitting cross-legged in the middle of his brother's bed. The thief was drinking a bottle of something – no doubt alcoholic – from the mini-bar, flicking through the channels on the room's television, a damp patch forming on the bed's sheets around him as leftover water from his skin, clothes and hair seeped into the cloth.

Brown eyes flicked up at the sound of the door opening, Bakura giving an idle wave from his perch. "Hello kid."

There was a long pause, Mokuba simply staring at him before raising his voice so as to be heard in the room's en suite:

"Big brother, why is there a homicidal psychopath in your bedroom?"

Kaiba's reply drifted in from the bathroom, muffled a little by the closed door. "Just ignore him, Mokuba. Maybe if we're lucky enough he'll just up and go away."

When grey-blue eyes looked at him, Bakura crossed his arms. "No chance."

Mokuba yelled to the en suite again: "But he's dripping on the furniture!"

"Then tell him to be a good dog and sit on the floor."

"Kaiba!"

No answer for a few minutes, and then the bathroom door was opened and Kaiba came out, dressed in a bathrobe, a white fluffy towel flung non-too-gently at Bakura's head. "Dry yourself off; I have to sleep on that bed tonight."

"Why should I?" Bakura caught the towel before it hit him, lowering it to his lap.

"If you don't, I'll wrap that towel around your neck and throttle you with it." Kaiba's smile was sugar-sweet.

Bakura frowned at him, slithering off the bed. "I think I'm going to go have a shower." He padded over to the open bathroom door, stepping around Kaiba's indifferent form.

"As you will." The brunet didn't bother to look at him, focusing more on his little brother, who had crossed to touch the damp patch on the room's bed with a frown.

"Big brother…" Bakura heard no more – he'd shut the door.

23: 48 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

"The brat's gone then?" Bakura came out of the bathroom later, bathrobe tied loosely about his waist, towelling his dripping hair dry.

"Call my brother a brat again and you're out of here quicker than you can say 'goodbye'," Kaiba had changed into loose slacks and a black jumper while the thief had been in the bathroom, perching himself on the end of the room's bad to sit and type away at his laptop, "deal or no deal."

"Must you always resort to threats, Kaiba?" Bakura walked over to him, absently perching on the bed behind him and leaning over the other's shoulder.

Kaiba growled when a droplet of water hit his keyboard, the pressure of Bakura against his back pushing him forwards into an uncomfortable position over his screen. "Tell me dorobou, were you born this annoying, or did it take years of refinement?"

"I could ask the same thing of you…" Bakura snorted, the puff of air warm against the brunet's neck. Irritably, Kaiba shoved him off, the thief sprawling out on the bed with a resigned sigh. "Really, Kaiba. You're such a bad-tempered individual – you need to loosen up some."

The laptop shut with an angry snap, blue eyes glaring over one shoulder at Bakura"Do you never shut up?"

"Not when I have such…delightful company as yourself." Sitting up with a smirk, Bakura reached around to steal the laptop, pulling it out of his companion's reach when Kaiba tried to snatch it back. "Hm, this is nice…" Bakura scooted a little further away on the bed.

Kaiba scowled, forced to climb further onto the bed to try and get his laptop back. "Give that back you bat-haired baka or I'll-"

"Or you'll what? Make some more pointless threats against my person?"

"Just give it back!" Kaiba snatched for the laptop again, only to have Bakura grab the sole arm he'd been balancing on and overbalancing, tipping onto one side. "You-!"

Bakura grinned triumphantly and took up a rather awkward seat on Kaiba's chest, waving the desired laptop over his captive's head. "Looking for something?"

If Kaiba had had something sharp in his hands, by God he would've used it at that point to murder the other.

"Temper, temper." Bakura deposited the laptop on the bedside table, his grin smug. "You'll get nowhere in this world, Seto Kaiba, if you will insist on being so…brutal all the time."

"Get off of me."

"Say please."

"Not on your life."

"Then I'm not moving."

Kaiba shifted, trying to find some way to throw the other off of him, but Bakura, being a thief, had pinned him down too well. The CEO gritted his teeth. "Please get off of me."

"Why?" Bakura tried for innocence, but his eyes were gleaming too wickedly for the expression to ever work.

"Because you're an ass."

"Ah, ah, ah." Bakura was taking far too much pleasure in tormenting the other man. "You'll have to be nice."

Kaiba growled, but forced out a more polite answer. "I just got dry, and you're dripping on my shirt."

Bakura leaned forwards, vague smile flitting across his lips. "That's better…"

"So will you move now?"

"No."

"What?"

Stalemate. Kaiba glared, and tried to struggle once more, Bakura smirking as he leaned over him, keeping him firmly in place. Kaiba thought about yelling at him, punching him, kneeing him where the sun didn't shine but Bakura would never –

"You're an annoying bastard." Kaiba's tone was flat. "You realise that?"

Bakura nodded eagerly. "Takes one to know one, darling." His tone was sickly-sweet and Kaiba almost winced -

"…Nii-sama?" Utter shock.

As one, two sets of eyes swivelled to look at the – now open – doorway of the room.

Mokuba.

23: 55 December Twenty-first

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Then – a sigh, white hair casually flicked back off sharp features, Bakura settling himself a little more firmly into his seat (completely ignoring the faint sounds of protest beneath him).

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"I – um -" Mokuba stared wide-eyed at the thief for a few moments in complete shock, unable to come up with anything to say. "Um…I'm…sorry?" His cheeks pinkened, the younger male taking a half-step backwards. "You're right, I should've knocked I -" blue-grey eyes quickly glanced to Seto, Mokuba's face flushing even darker, "nii-sama, if – er – if you like the thi – er – um, I mean – if you like Bakura-san I mean that's – er – um –"

"You're stuttering." Bakura announced helpfully.

"Yes." Mokuba's face was bright pink. He was quite old enough to understand what was going on – or what he thought was going on anyway – but…to walk in on his brother – "I'm sorry; I never expected –" the teen halted, vaguely aware he'd just potentially insulted his brother's supposed(?) lover, "er - I mean, Bakura-san you're wonderful and – er - I'm just going to go now."

"That would be good." Bakura smiled at the boy, only a few shades off a fanged smirk.

Kaiba tried to sit up again. "Mokuba -" But, flushing to the roots of his dark hair, his younger brother had already fled.

Bakura beamed cheerfully as the room's door shut. "I take back what I said before, Kaiba – he's not a brat."

The company president only growled at him, usually pale cheeks taking on a faint wash of rose. "Get off of me this instant or I swear I will rip out your tongue and make you eat it."

"Again with the threats."

"Get off me! NOW!!"

03: 27 December Twenty-second

The Luxor Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of America

Mission: Drive Kaiba utterly mad.

Feasibility: Mission was successful, so what do you think?

Ryou Bakura was woken by the sound of someone pounding on his hotel door, the wood rattling with the harsh smacks thumping off of it. Disgruntled, and not more than a little alarmed, the Brit slid from his bed, padding across the floor to open the door.

As the wood swung inwards the one attacking it nearly fell in along with it, brown eyes sweeping across a familiar lanky form.

"Um…Kaiba?" Surprise took away Ryou's urge for revenge at being woken at such an ungodly hour. "Is something wrong…?"

"'Is something wrong…?'!" The brunet inhaled sharply, straightening at the same time and reaching out into the corridor he'd just come from, grabbing something and shoving it at Ryou. "Take him back, now." Kaiba hissed. "Else I'm murdering him and pinning the blame on you."

Bakura smiled rather sheepishly at his bemused hikari. Ryou groaned. "Kaiba…"

"That…that thing," Kaiba seemed at a loss for words, "has persisted in driving me mad for three hours. Keep him out of my sight from now on or I'll gut him with the nearest sharp object to hand."

"Kaiba -"

The brunet stalked out of the room, and slammed the abused door behind him. Bakura, unwilling to be so easily dismissed opened it again and stuck his head out.

"I suppose this means I don't get a kiss goodbye, sweetheart?"

"Bakura -"

Bakura quickly shut the door again, locking it and running to jump on his bed. To Ryou: "Don't let him in."

Ryou rolled his eyes. "As if I'd be that dumb…"

Sure enough, three seconds later, Kaiba must've made it back down the corridor because he had started pounding on the door once more.

Ryou just gave his yami a look. "…I should really let him have you after what you did earlier."

Bakura's eyes peeped out from over the bedcover he'd wrapped himself in. "In this temper? He'd probably kill you too."

"Just…what did you do to drive him so mad?"

A yell from outside: "Let me have him! I want to wring his neck!!"

Bakura shot his lighter half a fanged smirk. Ryou sighed. "I don't really want to know, do I?"

"It involved a laptop, a bed, and a certain mentally-scarred younger sibling – and that was only the beginning."

Ryou resisted the urge to hit himself in the forehead, walking over to his bed and climbing back inside. "I was right. I really don't want to know."

Bakura only smirked at him again, and the two left the conversation there.

Debriefing:

Kaiba continued to rant outside their door for another ten minutes before the residents of the room next along the corridor called up to the reception to complain. Thus proceeded a long argument between Kaiba and two security guards, ending with Kaiba getting dragged out of the hotel, and Mokuba having to go visit the local police station with the family lawyer.

Kaiba began plotting the immediate death of one white-haired yami, and Ryou quietly asked if Bakura would like to draw up a will.

Mokuba could never look at Bakura in the eye again.