Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or Without You I'm Nothing by Placebo

If she pretended that she in fact wasn't watching him, that she was terribly interested in the the ring of condensation her cup of cola had made on the table or the man that was standing just directly to his right, she could sit and gape at him for hours. His strong, large hands. His well-porportioned body and all the muscles, she was sure, were definitely as taut as bow strings. His coca-dusted eyes and moonstone hair. A tiny moan escaped her lips and she reached for the Diet Pepsi in front of her. Holy shit, did she really need to lust after BAKURA tonight?! No, she didn't. But how could she help it? She flitted among the people at the night club like a beautiful, elusive bird but should her eyes even flicker his way, it sent her into a tail spin. And her tissue-paper wings would rip and shred on the jagged rocks below her. Jesus, this was depressing. She hated lusting after the damn tomb robber. It was the worst person she could have found attractive, never could she have chosen a worse specimen. But all of the things that told her she was wrong couldn't compare with the way her stomach did acrobatics whenever he was within twenty feet. She sighed. As the saying goes, her brain said no, no!, but her hormones said yes, yes!

But for god's sake, she was a grown woman! She couldn't let her lust control her as if she was a pimply-faced, high school girl. But if he came to her and said something like, "Care to screw my brains out, luv?" she knew she would be too swept up to say no.

Granted, Isis wasn't a romantic. She didn't believe in love at first sight (with Bakura, it was definitely lust) and she hated the whole marrige institution. Screw it, give her singles bars or give her death! Like she'd ever get mixed up in a "real" relationship. But that's why Bakura intrigued her so (well, that and his lovely ass). He seemed to be the same as her, as if he could just take her away and make her forget that she was bitter, jaded. That they would have amazing sex and she'd never feel a single ounce of guilt or fear. Yes, he was one of those men who made you want to strip away all of your morals and scream, "Take me now!" Well, of course, Isis wasn't one to do the afore mentioned cliche but she definitely wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers. And for the finicky goddess, that was saying something.

Naturally, though, as she'd sit there and undress the snow-haired bishi with her eyes, Isis would remember (oh yeah!) that she was an Ishtar, sworn to protect the pharaoh, and this... well-sculped slice of man meat was a tomb robber, sworn to steal, kill and generally mock the pharaoh when he pleased. Shit... Isis pouted mentally. It's a Ra-damn conspericy!

Disgusted with herself, Isis glared at the Pepsi, deciding to take out her frustrations and bottled-up hormones on the carbonated beverage. She slipped off the high stool she was perched atop and headed for the bar. Pepsi gave no solace. She needed real liqour.

The bartender was dark haired, dark eyed and Latin looking. Isis paid him no mind as she tried to decide what to order. A beer wasn't stong enough and a shot of whiskey seemed a little drastic. This wasn't working at all. Isis had no taste for alcoholic beverages. She didn't even know what she was doing there.

"Feeling indecisive, are we luv?"

.........................DAMN THAT VOICE!!!!! DAMN IT TO THE FIERY PITS OF HELL WHERE IT WOULD BURN UNTIL YOU COULDN'T HEAR ITS BUILT-IN SINISTER GRIN OR BRITISH TINGE!!!!! DAMN THAT VOICE!!!!!!

"Good evening, Bakura..." Isis said through clenched teeth.

"It is now," Bakura smiled, his chocolate eyes running over her body. Isis felt warmer suddenly and pulled at her top self conciously. She normally didn't dress like this but she would look out of place here in her usual attire. Bakura turned to the bartender, casually stating,

"Two shots of tequila."

Isis' eyes widened in shock. "I hope those are both for you."

"Nope," Bakura took the shot glasses, with a nod to the bartender and a wink to Isis. "You're going to drink to me and I'm going to drink to you and we're both going to drink to each other." His eyes flamed darkly in the low lights. "So what do you say? Should we get started?"

"Certainly not!" Isis sputtered, though her stand-offish tone faultered as her voice broke. She turned to walk away, but Bakura's words stopped her.

"What's a drink between old friends?"

Isis laughed haughtily. "Old friends? Bakura, you have gone mad! You know that I only reguard you as an enemy. A turncoat who works against the pharaoh for your own selfish reasons! We are not friends..." Her eyes narrowed. "And I won't drink with you."

"Fine, so we're not 'friends', but who is these days?... I only suggest you drink what I've bought you, luv, because you don't know your Jack Daniels from your Jack Nicolsons..." Bakura held up the tequila as a peace offering. "Come have a taste?"

Oh, he was wicked!! He knew something, something about these feelings she had. He had to, or else he wouldn't be acting like this. Well, she wouldn't let him intimidate her. Isis would beat the tomb robber at his own game. She sat primly beside him and knocked back the first shot. Coughing, she sat forward and placed her dainty hands over her lips. Bakura watched silently when all of a sudden, she sat up and blinked at him.

"It's strong."

"That is a bit of an understatement, luv..." He reached across the bar and soon had swallowed the other shot. A hissing sound escaped his lips and he laughed. "Tequila's a bitch but she gets the job done..."

"Oh, so, now you're trying to get me drunk?" Bakura laughed at Isis' blunt comment. He casually motioned for two more and smiled. "Next time, I'll give you the lime..."

It never occured to her exactly how many she'd had or when her tongue had begun to loosen so as she and Bakura had sat, secluded, in a less busy section of the bar. His laughter was like dark chocolate and he laughed at everything she said, not because it was funny, but because he found her fascinating, in the sense that she didn't seem as jaded and reformed when she had a bit of liquor in her.

"I can't believe I'm sitting in this... dank, dive-bar night club drinking tequila shots and talking to you." Her nose turned up a little in feigned disgust. Bakura smiled.

"Likewise, I'm sure..."

"Why did you even come over to me anyway?" She grinned, her voice dropping lower, sounding sultry.

Bakura's seductive smile widened. "Why not?"

"No, that's not fair," she teased. "There are plenty of pretty girls in this place who would willingly join you for a few drinks... Why me?"

"You're the only pretty girl I wanted..." He smiled. "Besides, where's the sport in the normal girls? You're the goddess here, are you not?"

"Well..." She giggled a little and played with her earring nervously. "I try..."

"Re help me..." Bakura laughed and suddenly they heard a few notes float through the haze of cigarette smoke and liquor clouds. His eyes lit up and he smiled. "I love this song..." Then, that cocky grin never faultering, "Care to dance, luv?"

"Sure..." Isis took his hand and he led her through the crowed, softly making a path before settling in the middle of the dance floor. Isis's mind wouldn't wrap around the situation well enough for her to notice where they were going. She was intent on trying to get her eyes to focus... until Bakura's hands slid around to her hips and pulled her closer. Only then did her mind finally wrap around one thought, as her body pressed against his. Oh yeah... Taut as bowstrings...

Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide

I'll take it by your side

Her hands traveled up his arms to rest on his shoulders. She wondered if it was really her, resting in his possive arms, or if she was merely watching it from somewhere far off. The music was as intoxicating as the tequila had been and slowly, before she'd realized it, the snow haired tomb robber had dipped his head to kiss her neck. The contact sent electric thrills through her. Holy Re.

I'm unclean A libertine

And every time You vent your spleen

I seem to lose the power Of speech

You're slippin' slowly from My reach

She felt herself pull back and noticed that he was smiling. Her breath came out in a gasp as she asked him,

"How did you--"

"I knew." He interrupted, saving her the trouble. "Least I think I did. But now I'm sure." He smiled that devilish grin of his and pulled her closer to him (if physically possible), whispering,

"Don't worry. It'll be easy."

He led her hand, which had fallen back to her side, over his shoulder and her fingers twined themselves in his hair without complaint.

You grow me like An evergreen

You've never seen the lonely me at all

I-- take the plan, spin it sideways

I-- fall

His hands played over her back, drawing her into the steps. Finally, she felt herself relax, succomb... and she burned for him. Her hands reached for his skin and she drew his lips to hers.

Without you I'm nothing--

Without you I'm nothing--

Without you I'm nothing--

The music, the lights, the scent of warm beer and sweat, the heat of his hands... The whole effect taunted and bewitched her. Soon, she would be in his arms, if they could manage to contain themselves until they made it out of the club. As he pulled her through a maze of blurred people, she caught the final lyrics...

Take the plan

Spin it sideways...

Without you... I'm nothin'

At All...

It was perfection in the most imperfect way. Locks of his white hair mixed with his coca dusted eyes as he watched her all night. She couldn't imagine how she looked to him. Sleep was a sweet surrender but also hazy. She couldn't wrap her mind around the night's events. Just his eyes. And her own want. Re help her... She'd forgotten that she'd still be Isis Ishtar in the morning.

Without you-- I'm nothin'--

At All