AUTHOR'S NOTE:

My sincere apologies that this took so long to post. I have two excuses. The first is that between posting last chapter and this one, I moved from Australia to Illinois on exchange, so understandably, I've been a little busy (TAS Bandit Keith: AMERICA!). The second is that your reviews were so amazing that I have been entirely intimidated by them, and been eaten up with worry that the rest of this story might not live up to your expectations. I'm sorry it took a while, and god, I hope that it does.

It's going to be three parts. I saved the juicy/explicit stuff for part three. The last chapter is shorter, and won't take so long to edit, I promise.

The Definition of Love

Part Two.

"She's seen us," Malik said.

Bakura cocked one eyebrow. "And?"

"She's coming over."

The two of them sat in the restaurant where Anzu worked part-time. Bakura had decided it was time they all had a little chat. He sat with his back to Mazaki while Malik did the looking-out.

"She looks happy," Malik added.

Interesting. Bakura hadn't taken over right away, when Ryou had run away like a little bitch a few days earlier. He'd let him get all the way home and place that pathetic, apologetic phone call. He didn't really know why Ryou had bothered to call the girl at all. All he'd had said was, "I really like you Anzu, but I can't explain." And for some reason, Mazaki had let it slide. You'd think the girl could figure it out for herself. How dumb was she, anyway?

Anzu stopped in front of their table, and he took great delight in the way her smile faded as she glanced back and forth between him and Malik. He watched her take in his and Malik's feet, and the way their ankles were intertwined beneath the table. And when she looked back up into into his face, he saw the delicious moment that she realised he wasn't who she'd wanted to see.

Bakura grinned at her, baring sharp teeth. "Hello, prima ballerina. Why don't you sit down?"

"I'm not allowed to sit with customers," Anzu responded primly.

"I said sit the fuck down!" he snarled, and he slammed the table top with his palm.

Anzu sat down so fast, it seemed that she had found herself seated beside Malik before she even realised what she was doing.

"What do you want?" she spat. Her blue eyes practically sparked like blowtorch flames.

Bakura leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. He was amused that she was so angry so quickly. He liked a good fight and it looked like Mazaki might give him one. Would it break her spirit dealing with him, or would she keep on fighting like poor little Ryou? That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. He wasn't sure which answer he'd prefer, yet.

"I think it's time you and I had a little chat, kitten," he said.

He paused to watch Malik reassuringly pat the girl on the shoulder. Oh, so Malik wanted to play good-cop, bad-cop? Well, cops and tomb-robbers was one of Malik's favourite bedroom games. Nothing like a good pair of handcuffs.

"You see, we have a bit of a problem. It's come to my attention that you like my host body, here." Bakura casually, slowly ran his hands down the front of his torso, and watched with some pleasure as Anzu's eyes followed them down, all the way down to his crotch.

She jerked her gaze back up to his face again, and she was even angrier, blushing now. Just the way Bakura wanted her.

"I like Ryou," she corrected.

"And it would seem that Ryou likes you. Unfortunately for the two of you... I don't. I think you're an annoying little goody-two-shoes."

Anzu narrowed her big baby-blues at him. "What do you care? What business is it of yours?"

From his position opposite the two of them, Bakura saw Malik hide a grin at Anzu's naiveté. "Well, darling, I do live here, too," he said.

"You're a parasite!" she burst out. "You have no right to - "

"Uh, uh uh," Malik interrupted. He waggled his finger at her.

Anzu turned to him in surprise. "What – "

"I wouldn't say things like that, if I were you. I don't think you'd like Bakura when he gets really angry."

Anzu pursed her lips.

"What do you think I am, the fucking Hulk?" Bakura snarled at Malik. He paused for a moment, and composed himself. "It's true," he continued a moment later, "It doesn't have to be my business. I could just let Ryou run around and do what he likes, and lock myself away in his head while he has all the fun he wants. But I'm not going to."

He watched Anzu try to process that.

"Do you get it?" he hissed. "I'm not going to. Why should I? I don't like floating around in nothingness. I'm in here, Anzu. I'm always in here."

Anzu's breath hitched. Oh, so she was getting it, after all.

"That's what your lovely little Ryou can't bring himself to tell you." Bakura smirked. He could feel Ryou inside his head right now, bitching away. Hell, when he thought they should all have a talk together, he meant it. Wasn't it only fair that Ryou got to participate in this conversation too? Or at least, to watch it unfold.

"I'm always in here. Everything you do with him... You're doing with me."

Anzu looked sick, and Bakura took a sick pleasure in the way Ryou reacted to that. His internal clamour was hilarious. Bakura laughed out loud, though it probably seemed apropos of nothing to Anzu. Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone thought he was crazy.

"Don't worry," Malik said with a pleasant smile. "The opposite isn't true. Ryou doesn't usually know what Bakura's doing with me."

Bakura laughed again. This was why he kept going back to Malik. He'd kind of liked sharing Ryou's head with him during the tournament. Malik was a simmering mess of good intentions, guilt and rage. He never said anything without thinking through its implications, yet he made it impossible for most people to tell what he meant when he spoke. Was he trying to be nice, or was he being deliberately malicious? Did Malik even know, himself? Probably. Did he have an agenda? Definitely. Bakura didn't really care what it was; the puzzle was enough of an attraction in and of itself.

Anzu swallowed and the sound was audible from across the table. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Why..." Bakura said, feigning surprise. "Didn't you want to know? Ryou wanted to tell you, but he pussied out. So I'm doing it for him. Wouldn't you rather know why he'll never touch you again?"

Anzu glared at him, but he could see that now her anger was a front for the tears welling in her eyes. "You're horrible," she said.

"Ooh. God. I'm horrible. Now you've hurt my feelings. I might never recover."

Anzu leapt up from the table and stormed off toward the kitchen. Bakura watched her storm off, thinking that even if she was an idiot, he appreciated her spark. And the view of her walking away wasn't bad, either.

Malik stood up on the opposite side of the table. "My turn," he murmured. He caressed Bakura's shoulder lightly as he walked past, following after Anzu.

Anzu stopped before she reached the kitchen, in the staff corridor just out of sight from the restaurant. She shuddered, trying to suppress her tears and her outrage. This was insane. What was she doing? She was stupid to have kissed Ryou at all. She knew what was going on with him. Why couldn't she just be his friend and leave it at that?

He'd just looked so lonely and lost. She couldn't help it – it made her want to make him feel better.

And with Yugi gone, things weren't the same at school, either. She knew he'd had to go with his grandfather to Egypt for the semester, but the dynamic wasn't the same, and Jounouchi and Honda were so boisterous and well... Such boys.

She felt lonely, too.

It wasn't like it had come out of nowhere. I mean, you'd have to be blind not to notice that Ryou was cute. Even kind of handsome. Adorable, white-haired foreign exchange students tended to stand out at any school, and when he'd first arrived at Domino High all the girls in her grade had been in a fluster for weeks. But he was always so shy. And anyway, she'd had eyes only for Yugi, so what did it matter? But Yugi wasn't here, and she'd realised that day last week when Ryou had crashed into her, landed on her... He was... Well, lovely. The crashing aside, he was so sweet, and considerate. And when she'd kissed him, she'd felt a spark – she'd felt herself light up. She'd stopped feeling lonely, too.

But it had been like sticking her hand in a flame, and this was just seven shades of messed up. And she couldn't just abandon Ryou, but she didn't know if she wanted to deal with this. How was she supposed to help him? They were friends, but they didn't know each other that well. The problem was... She wanted to know him better. She really did.

"There, there," a voice said. Malik gathered her up in a hug. "It's not so bad."

Anzu shoved him off. "How do you figure that?" she retorted.

Malik was nonplussed. He stared at her, his expression mild, and Anzu felt uncomfortable. She'd barely spoken to him since he'd been... Redeemed. Cleansed of his sins, and all that jazz. It seemed like he'd been racking up some new ones. He looked the same as before, cargo pants, loose singlet top that barely covered his stomach, with a black hooded cardigan tossed on. Still wearing too much jewellery. Was that eyeliner? He really looked almost... Pretty.

"Well, Bakura could have just said he was never going to let you see Ryou again. But he didn't, did he?"

"Right, because I'm sure messing with us is much more fun for him!"

Malik's eyes narrowed. Had he thought she wouldn't figure that out? How dumb did they think she was? Then Malik smiled again. "Perhaps. But, you know, in his own way, Bakura likes his host."

"Bullshit," Anzu snapped.

"In his own way," Malik repeated. "I mean, regardless of what else he is, Bakura is definitely a narcissist... Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want Ryou to give up all hope. Then there'd be no hope left to crush."

Anzu gasped. "Oh, god. You're just as horrible as he is."

Malik merely laughed. "Oh, now, I wouldn't go that far." He took a step towards Anzu, pressing her back against the wall. Anzu held her breath as he moved invasively closer. "Think about it. Bakura is willing to let you be together, if you want."

"If I want him along for the ride, you mean!"

"For the ride! Well, that's certainly one way of putting it!"

Anzu felt herself blushing again, and it made her even angrier.

Malik shrugged, and the movement was casual, light. "He's offering you a deal. Personally, I'd take it. It's no worse than the deal I've made."

"And what's that?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're not the only one here who has to share that body."

Anzu stared up into Malik's alarmingly-close purple eyes. "You... You and Bakura are really...?" she whispered.

And then, to her shock, Malik leaned in and brushed her lips softly with his own. After a second of confusion, of hesitation, a moment just long enough to taste the warm spiciness of his mouth, she shoved at him again.

"Get off!"

Malik stopped kissing her, but only barely moved away from her, keeping Anzu backed against the wall. He was smirking, and she wondered if his soft, thin lips had been smirking even as he kissed her. "Come on, now," he said. "You've kissed him. I've kissed him. It's like we've already kissed anyway."

"You didn't kiss the same one I did!" Anzu said through clenched teeth.

Malik sighed. He stepped back, after what seemed like an eternity, and he ran his hand through his hair. Anzu was suddenly sure that as he did so, he knew he was showing off the muscles in his arms, his lean body – showing off a glimpse of his smooth, tanned stomach as his shirt lifted slightly.

"Weren't you listening out there, Anzu? Bakura is always in there. If you think you haven't kissed him already, you're just in denial."

Anzu felt like her head might explode. She couldn't take much more of this. It was bad enough that she couldn't stop herself feeling attracted to Ryou's body when he wasn't even in it – Bakura's little flirtation had proved that much, and she was pretty sure he knew it. That Malik was standing here trying to seduce her – and half-way succeeding – was enough to make her want to throw up.

"Just go away," she whispered.

"Here's how it goes," Malik ignored her request. "You can have Ryou if you want him. You can even go on dates alone together. Whatever. But any time it gets serious – any time you two get hot and heavy and you start caressing that beautiful alabaster body of his – you're not going to be alone with Ryou. Not at all. And by the way... I'm generous, but not that generous. If you expect me to miss out on you fucking Bakura, you've got another thing coming."

It's so to-the-point bold and vulgar that Anzu blanched. She felt almost dizzy at the speed she changed from blushing and furious to pale and horrified.

"One last thing..." Malik stepped in close to her again, and Anzu couldn't muster the will to push him away a third time. This was really too much. She felt weak in the knees, and was angry at herself for being so – so pathetic.

Malik breathed into her ear, "Not that it's really your problem, but won't Ryou be so sad when he finds out that no one is ever going to want to be with him badly enough to live with this? So much for friends. Or for love."

Malik stared into Anzu's eyes. She felt like she was in the view of a cobra: she felt mesmerised, numb. He brushed her lips again with his own, just the barest of teasing kisses, and then he walked away.

Anzu stared after him for a second. That manipulative bastard. Then she snapped out of it. With a yell, she punched the wall next to her.

"Ah!" She grabbed her fist with her other hand. It stung like hell. Hitting walls – okay, bad idea.

It would be easier to believe that Malik was influencing her than that she'd actually just let him kiss her – twice. But even as she thought that, she knew that it wasn't the case. She'd felt Malik in her head before, and it was a hell of a lot more invasive than a pair of lips. Maybe it didn't help her fight him off now, knowing what he could do even if she did fight him – but that didn't mean he was really going to do it. Her nerve had failed her, damnit. And whatever he was up to now, she didn't for a second believe that he'd use the power which scared him so much, which he'd vowed in front of them all never to use again. So what did he want?

And what on earth was she going to do about it all? Well, first she had to finish her shift at work. Then she'd deal with everything else in life. Deal with practical problems first – and with a gasp, Anzu realised it had been a good twenty minutes since she'd checked on any of her tables. She ran back out into the restaurant.

Ryou pushed violently at Malik. "Get off!"

"Oh, great," Malik said. "Nice to see you again, too."

"I said, get off me," Ryou hissed.

"You know, when you use that tone of voice, you sound just like him."

Ryou felt like he might scream.

"Relax, would you? It was only a kiss. Figures Bakura would let me get you all the way home and then turn the tables." Malik sighed and rolled away.

Ryou looked around. He was in his own home, to his surprise. On his own bed.

"You... Do you come over here often?" he asked Malik.

Malik shrugged. "Often enough."

Fantastic. Someone was frequently in his house when he didn't even know about it. "How can you let him do this?" Ryou demanded.

Malik raised his eyebrows. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't let him do anything. You should know better than anyone how that goes."

"But you're actually helping him mess with her!"

Malik sat up. He moved away, to the far side of the bed. "Ryou. This may come as some surprise to you, but I like you. I don't know you very well, but I can appreciate the situation you're in... And I also appreciate the body you're in."

Ryou huffed but said nothing.

"What exactly do you think is going to happen here? How do you think this is going to go on? There are two of you in one body, and that isn't about to change. And while I like you just fine, you delicious little creampuff, I don't think you are quite as enamoured of my charms."

Malik looked Ryou up and down, in a mock assessment.

"No? Well, so. I'd be willing to share with you, but you're not interested in me. You'd probably come across one day," Marik paused to give him a smile just knowing enough that it made Ryou blush. "...But that's assuming Bakura wants to share me with you. Bakura has me, but you have no one. Your options are either to continue to have no one for the rest of your life, or be willing to share whoever you do get. And trust me, even if Anzu dumps you – us – this will come up again with someone else, one day. Might as well accept it now."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ryou shouted. "Are you telling me that my choice is to either be alone forever in my own head, or live in some kind of fucked up threesome – FOURsome!" he corrected.

Malik just grinned. "Well, well. You're cute when you're angry, dandelion. You should let it out more often." He got up and pulled his shirt back on, covering those strange scars – things hadn't gotten farther than that, to Ryou's confusion and relief. Malik stopped in the doorway, on his way out.

"Look, Ryou. You can either think of this as a fucked up foursome that you're stuck with, or... You can think of it as more variety than most people are blessed with in life."

"Variety! Is that supposed to be some substitute for... For..." Ryou trailed off.

"For love?" Malik guessed. "It depends on what your definition of love is. I know how to define mine. But you're not sure yet."

Ryou's voice was only a whisper. "But... I barely even know Anzu. How can I possibly ask something like this of her?"

"Ah, well, that's the thing. You don't have to. Lucky for you, Bakura already has." Malik winked at him, and vanished through the door.

Lucky? LUCKY? Ryou laughed, and it sounded disturbingly crazy – disturbingly like the other one's laugh.

It was nearly a week before Anzu could make herself show up. She stood outside Ryou's apartment, thinking she ought to just go home and never come back. But she knew that she wouldn't. She'd already made up her mind, almost, or she wouldn't have gone there at all.

She rang the buzzer. There was no answer. She rang it again, and again, getting worried.

Finally there was static on the line. No one said anything.

"Ryou? It's Anzu. Please let me in."

The door buzzed and she went into the building.

Ryou answered his apartment door, out of breath. It was clear he'd been frantically cleaning as she climbed the stairs. The windows were open, and the cold autumn wind scoured the rooms. As Anzu followed Ryou inside she noticed, with a pang, that those rooms were surprisingly empty – some furniture, but none of the usual clutter of someone's life that accumulated when they lived by themselves. The lone piece of decoration on the walls was from an English movie that Anzu didn't even recognise - a weird cartoon, but not an anime.

"Anzu... I don't even know where to begin," Ryou said. There were dark circles under his eyes. "Um... Well... I'm sorry," he eventually blurted. "I am so, so sorry. I'm sorry that they came to your work, I'm sorry they were so awful to you, I'm sorry that they tried to manipulate you, I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry that I like you so much, or Bakura never would have taken an interest. I'm just sorry, okay?"

Anzu blinked. It might have been the most animated she'd ever seen Ryou. It'd be cute, if he weren't so obviously distressed. As it was, it made her chest ache a little. She took a deep breath. "Ryou, it's okay."

Ryou looked at her, miserable and a little suspicious.

"I've been thinking a lot the past few days. I know none of that was your fault."

Ryou hung his head now, shook it slightly. It seemed like he didn't agree; like he blamed himself an awful lot. Which was just wrong.

Anzu stared at him for a minute, then decided to forge on. "I like you a lot, too, Ryou." Ryou didn't lift his head. She wondered what expression was on his face. "This is just... Pretty intense, okay? It's a lot to process."

Ryou's shoulders seemed to be hunching more and more, like he was withdrawing into himself, and Anzu realised she wasn't saying this right. Or he wasn't hearing it right. Or something.

"Ryou? Are you listening? I said... I like you a lot."

"You're too kind," Ryou murmured.

"What? No, I..."

Ryou lifted his head, and Anzu coould see that his brown eyes were dark with unshed tears. "No, you are. You came here today to tell me these things in person, and... That's so brave. Especially when you know that any moment, I might not be the person you're telling them too. I really admire you, Anzu, and I respect you too. And I understand."

Anzu wrinkled her nose. "Uh, I don't think you do."

"What?"

"Ryou. What I came here to say is... Well, I don't quite know what to do."

"You... Aren't here to... Well... Dump me? I mean, you haven't decided to yet?" Ryou's voice was flat, but Anzu had the sense that it was more from repressed emotion than any lack of feeling.

She wondered if you could consider being plowed over in the street and then one pizza dinner "dating"... But then she remembered those kisses at her front door, and the feeling of emptiness as he ran off that night... And the horror, and the outrage, and the absolute sorrow she felt when she heard Bakura's choice little revelation, made just to taunt her.

"I haven't decided. I mean, I don't think I know. I'm almost sure. I think..." Anzu took a deep breath. "I think if you kiss me again, I'll know for sure."

Ryou's expression was just about heartbreaking. He whispered, "I can't. He'll know... If I do."

Anzu tried to sift through her feelings. It felt like they were forming into a lump in her middle – hope, and anxiety, and desire, and fear, all at once.

"I know," she said. "I don't care."

"But..."

"Ryou," she interrupted. "I said I don't care. So are you going to embarrass me by making me stand here, or are you going to kiss me already?"

Ryou flushed beet red, and she knew she'd picked the right words –made it sound as if it would be unbearably rude of Ryou not to kiss her. And he couldn't possibly live with that.

Cheeks red, Ryou looked nervous, but all of a sudden he didn't act like it. All of a sudden he closed the gap between them, and almost crushed her in his arms. When he kissed her, Anzu felt like her legs might drop out from under her.

What was it? It wasn't pity, though she knew part of it was that she couldn't bear to leave Ryou to suffer alone. Couldn't bear for him to think that he wasn't worth fighting for. It wasn't fear, though she knew, deep down, despite herself, that part of her thrilled with anxiety that Bakura, too, was touching her right now. Those feelings were all tangled up with the warm expressiveness of Ryou's eyes, and his perfect skin, and his amazing, soft, wild white hair. But wasn't just that she found him unbearably attractive, either.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, and even though Ryou was inexperienced, she could feel him pacing himself with her – paying attention to how she kissed him, and returning the favour. The result was that his kisses, though cautious, were amazing, because he was kissing her just the way she loved to kiss.

That was it. It was just him. Everything Ryou lived with – everything he was put through – and he still cared whether he was polite. He still listened patiently to her talk about her own trivial problems, like her dance recital. After everything, Ryou still cared how she felt. He still paid attention to what she wanted, and who she was.

She didn't really know him, not really – but she could see the person that Ryou was at his core. He wasn't weak. He was amazingly strong. The kind of strength you couldn't turn away from. The kind of strength that deserved to be rewarded.

Eventually, Ryou pulled away from her. "Was that... Did that help?"

From anyone else, it would be a leer, a jest. Ryou was totally serious.

Anzu broke into a smile. "Yes," she said. "That helped. Let's date, Ryou."

In a rush, Ryou sat down on the floor, dazed, like his legs had been weak that whole time too. "But..."

Anzu laughed, but was a kind laugh, she hoped. She knelt down beside him. "I don't care. Let's not worry about all that. Let's just... See how it goes for a little while, okay?"

Ryou looked like he almost couldn't speak. But then he smiled – one of the biggest smiles she'd ever seen. "Okay," he said.

A few weeks later, Malik was dragging Bakura down the street toward Anzu's house, his hand firmly wrapped around the spirit's.

"Remind me again why the fuck I agreed to this?"

"Because," Malik threw a glance back at him. "Anzu called me up and asked us out on a date. You think I'm passing up that opportunity?"

"Why not? Are you trying to get her to fuck you or something?" Bakura said with a good measure of derision.

"I wouldn't kick her out of bed."

Bakura used Malik's grip on his hand to wrench him around.

"Hey!" Bakura yanked Malik in close. "If you think for one second – "

Malik just laughed in his face. "Would you chill out? I said I wouldn't kick her out of bed! That is the plan, after all, isn't it? I didn't say it was my goal to have sex with her. But it's sweet that you're so jealous."

Bakura tried to halt the rage that threatened to spin out of control. Sometimes Malik's little barbs provoked him so close to smacking the boy across the face that he didn't know how he restrained himself. The only answer was that Bakura did once hit him in a fit of anger, and only once. It had spun Malik right around and knocked him into the wall. And few moments later, Malik had calmly responded from the floor that if he ever did that again, Malik would grab the nearest kitchen knife, give Bakura a series of creative tattoos of his own to bear, and walk out the door forever – a little sadomasochism was one thing, but plain ol' domestic abuse was another.

Bakura had believed him. And strangely, Malik walking out the door was... A thought he didn't like. Not one bit.

He counted to ten, now. "So what is your goal, then?"

Malik grinned and used his free hand to grab Bakura's belt, pulling him closer. "Why, obviously, to fuck you. In new and exciting ways."

Typical. Bakura wanted a straight answer, but not so quickly that he would interrupt when Malik kissed him. He let Malik press him up against the neighbourhood fence, and was happy to groan when Malik's hands dropped to his hips; when Malik pulled him close and ground their pelvises together.

But not for too long. Couldn't be late for their date.

Bakura detangled himself. "Malik," he warned.

"Oh, come on. Bakura, this little scheme of yours is never going to happen if we don't spend any quality time with Ms Mazaki. She's all over Ryou. You know that. But she wants to know more about us. She's curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity and cats." Bakura narrowed his eyes.

Malik grinned impishly. "Don't get carried away."

"Oh, whatever." Bakura sighed. "Fine, let's just get this over with. But I don't see why we have to go to the motherfucking zoo."

"It was her suggestion. Anyway, can't you think of some way to keep yourself entertained? I'm sure Ryou will make an endearing amount of noise in there if you let him watch us flirt with her."

Bakura cocked his head. Well, that might be amusing for a while. Anyway, it wasn't like he had anything better to do today.

"Fine, let's go then. How far away is this stupid house of hers?"

"Just around the corner."

Malik was about to ring Anzu's doorbell when Bakura leaned over and whispered, "By the way... Don't think I don't know that you suggested the zoo."

"What can I say? I like all the sweet little baby animals."

"You like screwing with me."

"Yes," Malik said happily. "I sure do."

Bakura found the whole thing excruciating. For starters, it was a weekend, and the god damned zoo was full of families. Families with children. Bakura hated children. He especially hated them with balloons. He hated them with hot dogs. He hated them with paper hats shaped like elephants perched on their stupid, bulbous child-heads.

"But I want another hot dog," Malik whined from under his own elephant hat.

"When I get you home, I am going to teach you a lesson about why you will never take me to a zoo again, and you won't walk for a week."

Behind them, Anzu sighed. "So... You're just going to reward his bad behaviour?"

Bakura whirled on her. "Who the fuck asked your opinion?"

Inside his head, Ryou bitched about speaking so rudely to her. Seemed like the little coward had finally regained some semblance of his nerve. Well, something in him had certainly been more rigid lately where Anzu was concerned. Bakura snorted to himself.

Outside his head, Anzu snapped back, "Watch your language, there are children everywhere."

Oh, please. They were so perfect for each other it made him want to murder something.

"As if I give a fuck!" he responded.

"Bakura," Malik said, his voice patronising. "If you can't control yourself, we really will have to take you home again."

"I am going to slit your throat and bathe in the blood," Bakura hissed at him. "And then I'm going to fuck your corpse."

Malik just smiled. "You say the sweetest things." He slipped his hand into Bakura's.

Anzu threw her hands up in exasperation. "What the heck is wrong with both of you?"

Bakura turned to stare at her. At the same time, Malik turned his eyes on her, too. Anzu flinched under their combined gaze.

"You're the one who thinks she can get to know us," Bakura responded. "Us. You know - the ones who tried to kill your best friends rather recently. What's wrong with you?"

"Clearly," she muttered, "I am terminally an idiot." Anzu stomped off towards the tiger exhibit.

"Bakura," Malik tugged on his hand, and stopped him in wooden cut out of a smiling crocodile. "This isn't going to work if you keep acting like an insane sociopath."

Bakura's head throbbed. "And just what do you want me to do?"

"Seduce her, you idiot. We're supposed to seduce her. It shouldn't be that hard for you, I know you like her spunk."

Inside his head, Ryou muttered something indiscernible but annoyed, yet again.

Bakura gave Malik an eyeful, and leaned in close. "I like yours better. I like it all over me."

Malik snorted with laughter. "Pervert, move your ass. If we don't follow her we'll lose her in the crowd. Stop acting like a child."

"Takes one to know one, elephant-head," Bakura muttered. Why the hell had he started this whole thing, again? The pharaoh might have been out of town, but did that really make him this desperate for amusement? Why was he letting this hold up all his other plans? He suppressed a sigh. "Anzu." He stepped in next to her, where she watched a group of baby tigers play.

"Yes?"

He pretended to hesitate as he stared at the frolicking cats. "...Ryou thinks those tigers are adorable."

Ryou did, in fact, think that, but he hadn't expressed any wish for Bakura to tell that to Anzu. Ryou's feelings of annoyance were getting irritating. Shut the fuck up for a while, or I will shut you up, he warned, mentally.

Anzu's steely eyes softened a little. "Is he okay in there?"

Bakura shrugged.

"What does that mean?"

"It means YES, you insufferable woman."

"Well, excuse me for caring!"

Instead of letting Anzu huff away again, he snaked an arm around her waist and drew her in, to his side.

She sighed but didn't struggle. "Let go."

"No. Keep watching your tigers."

After a moment or so, Bakura felt her relax. It was almost pathetically easy. She had so much fire, and yet was so willing to be drawn in by any sign of good will. She and Ryou deserved each other, the morons.

As Anzu relaxed, Bakura turned his head slightly and exhaled on her neck. To all appearances, he was innocently watching the tigers. But he felt Anzu shiver in response. It was cheating, of course – and he was an excellent cheater. He already knew that Anzu loved it when Ryou breathed on her neck.

Ryou should have been howling in outrage by now, but instead, he was sitting quietly as asked. Good. This was why Bakura kept him locked out most of the time when he was in charge – the boy's conscientious commentary was overwhelmingly tedious. If he'd just shut up like this more often, Bakura might let him observe a little more.

The thought sort of surprised him. Well, fuck it. So what? He knew what it was like to be trapped away – a little understanding about it from him wasn't a crazy idea. He'd been locked in a ring for thousands of years, after all.

On second thoughts... Bakura narrowed his eyes. Ryou should be much more grateful for the little time he ever had in charge, at least for the next thousand years. Anyway, Ryou probably wouldn't appreciate the view most of the time even if he could see what Bakura was doing.

But at this particular moment, Ryou seemed stupidly content just to feel Anzu pressed against the line of his body. Even if he wasn't in charge of it. Good god, if she didn't come across soon, his host would probably go insane from pent-up sexual frustration. Not that Ryou would ever admit it, even to himself. Even now he was emanating a prissy feeling of denial at Bakura's thoughts.

Bakura stood still while Malik sidled up on Anzu's other side. He felt Anzu stiffen when Malik took Anzu's hand. But Malik didn't say anything, either, and in another moment she relaxed again.

Bakura's arm reached right around her tiny waist. He moved his fingers slowly to caress her hip bone on the farthest side.

"Oh, for god's sake." Anzu shoved both of them off her abruptly.

Bakura gave a low chuckle. "Something disturb you, my dear?"

"No," she said. Her tone was curt.

"For a moment there, you seemed quite happy to be pressed between the two of us."

Anzu didn't answer. Bingo.

"Let's go get an ice cream!" Malik burst out.

Oh, for god's sake.

Anzu turned to him, startled. "Huh?"

"Come on!"

Bakura expected Malik to grab Anzu's hand and drag her off, but instead he grabbed Bakura's own.

Bakura opened his mouth to protest in a way that would irreparably enlarge the vocabulary of every child within hearing range, but Malik hissed, "Quiet. She's watching us." Fine. He could go along with this for a few minutes, at least.

Anzu's eyes were on them as Malik ordered and paid for three ice creams. Malik walked over and handed one to Anzu, before returning to Bakura.

"What's the magic word?" Malik teased lightly, holding Bakura's ice cream just out of reach.

"Asshole?" suggested Bakura.

"Close, but not quite." Malik licked his own ice cream and the move was awfully suggestive.

"How about, 'Give me that fucking ice cream or I'll rip out your spine'?"

Malik only laughed in response, which was all Bakura had expected. He handed Bakura his cone of triple chocolate fudge, but before Bakura could take a bite, Malik leaned in and kissed him. Malik's tongue was cold from the ice cream, and Bakura liked the way it felt, chilled and slippery. He could just about eat Malik from the mouth down. After a long moment, he felt his own ice cream begin to run down his cone and onto his wrist.

He pulled back from Malik, and Malik snuck in another bite of his vanilla, grinning. Bakura shrugged. He tossed his entire cone over his shoulder and grabbed Malik with both hands, around his waist, wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in and tasted the vanilla flavour in Malik's mouth. It tasted sweeter than any ice cream possibly could.

When Bakura pulled back this time, he stepped back too. Malik winked at him. "That's more like it," he said quietly. Bakura was about to ask what he meant, when Malik gave a meaningful look over Bakura's shoulder. Bakura turned around. Well, well. Anzu had apparently been staring at them the whole time, ice cream clearly forgotten in her own hand, which was a sticky mess. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was a perfect 'o' of surprise. Inside Bakura's head, where Bakura had entirely forgotten about him, Ryou just felt confused by the whole thing.

Bakura began to laugh. The harsh sound startled Anzu, who quickly looked away. She was obviously embarrassed. Bakura turned back to Malik.

"You are one devious son of a bitch."

"Thanks," Malik said. "But I'm not buying you another ice cream if you just throw them on the ground like that." He grabbed Bakura's hand and walked him back over to Anzu.

She was extremely invested in her own ice cream now.

"So, Anzu," Malik said. "Are you ready to go home?"