The Bright Young Things

Hey, I love some of the reviews I'm getting for this. Some of them are so damn funny, I salute you people.

I don't know where I pulled a lot of this chapter from. Ah well, hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway. Read on!


"How the fuck did you get in here?" Marik demanded.

Yami folded his arms. "Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"Friend my ass," snapped Malik. "How'd you know we were here?"

"Unbelievable. Here I am, going out of my way to do you a favour, and all I get is suspicion." Yami shook his head in mock disbelief. Malik raised his eyebrows.

"You're busting us out?"

"Caught on?" Yami smirked. "Yes, I'm helping you, out of the goodness of my – "

"Who put you up to it?" Marik interrupted. He wasn't stupid; it was easy to see that someone had offered Yami something if he helped them out of jail. Though who, Marik had no idea.

Yami ignored him. "Hurry up and get out."

When neither Ishtar moved, both giving him blank stares, he gestured at the cell door.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked.

"Well, almighty genius, we're locked in." Marik rolled his eyes.

"Oh?" Yami smiled tauntingly. "Funny, Bakura can unlock almost anything without using the key. I would have thought that if anyone was jealous enough to try to outdo him, it would be you, Marik."

Marik just growled in response. Yami sighed.

"Fine." He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He threw that something into the cell, and Malik caught it. He gaped.

"Yami, you nicked the keys? How? Where were all the guards?" Malik looked around. "And where's the guard that's supposed to be on duty now?"

Marik snatched the keys out of his hands and straight away worked on finding one that would unlock their cell.

"Let's just say that not all of us were as stupid as you two," Yami said casually, answering Malik's question. He tapped his finger on the puzzle around his neck. "Not all of us gave away our Millennium Items."

"They're pushing up daisies?" Marik asked, trying to fit key after key into the lock. "Well, well, the Pharaoh isn't as good and virtuous as everyone thinks."

The lock clicked and the door swung open, but just before Marik walked out, he turned around and grabbed his sketches off the ground. When Yami looked at him in disdain, he shrugged.

"What? They're very important documents," he reasoned.

Yami snatched one of the pieces of paper.

"Most of them are just pictures of Bakura getting killed," Malik said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Yami looked at them all anyway. "Is that a guillotine, chopping off his – "

"Realistic, aren't they?" asked Marik, grinning sadistically.

They didn't use any subtlety when walking out of the building; they just went straight down the hallway of prisoners towards the front doors. But this didn't go down well with the other prisoners.

"Hey, Spikey," one called out to Yami. "How about sharing the favour? The rest of us want to get out of here as well."

When Marik went past the guy's cell, he scribbled something on one of his papers. "Here," he said, holding it out. The guy took it and looked bewildered – it was blank except for the words 'Marik Ishtar'. "Now whenever you're feeling pissed off about your life sentence, you can remember me: the guy who walked out of here."

Leaving the prisoner to stew in his anger, Marik followed Malik and Yami out.


Bakura had turned off his music as soon as he was certain Ryou wouldn't be bothering him again. But just his luck, this meant he was fully able to hear a car screech loudly to a halt right outside.

"What the fuck?" He stormed out to the front of the house. Parked there – badly – was possibly the most souped-up convertible he had ever seen, with three people inside, none of whom he wanted to see at the moment, with Ryou standing nearby.

Rather than greeting Malik, Marik or Yami in any way, Bakura turned around and walked right back inside.

"Bakura!" he heard Ryou yell. "Hold on. I'm sorry, I'll get him."

As Bakura internally groaned, Marik growled, "No, let the bastard stay there."

For once, he thought, Marik had done something right. But Ryou, being the stubborn hikari he was, ignored Marik and marched through the front door, looking furious.

"Honestly, show a bit of courtesy! I get that you're anti-Marik, but you could at least say hello to Yami."

Bakura laughed at that. "Oh yes, because Yami and I are the best of friends."

Ryou ignored him. "And what about Malik? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but I expect he's feeling a bit crushed that his boyfriend didn't come out to meet him after he's been in jail!"

Bakura stared at Ryou contemptuously. "He was in there for one day," he said. "Besides, I don't really give a shit what he thinks."

"Shall I tell him that?"

"Do what you want. I don't care," Bakura said, shrugging. Then he looked at Ryou suspiciously. "If you knew I was with Malik, why did you ask earlier if Marik and I were a couple?"

Ryou hesitated. He seemed to have drawn a blank. "I – I guess I forgot about Malik then," he admitted.

Bakura smirked. "Shall I tell him that?" he mimicked.

"You're an asshole," Ryou scowled. "I don't know why he would like you."

"It's because I'm hot." Bakura was about to leave the room, snubbing Ryou completely, when he suddenly had an idea. "Actually, you know, Ryou, you're right. I think I'll come out and say hello to Malik after all."

Ryou was confused by his sudden change of mind – and, naturally, slightly suspicious – but he shrugged it off as Bakura being in a good mood.

They both went back outside, where Yami, Malik and Marik had all gotten out of the car and were making themselves comfortable on the lawn. All of them assumed that Ryou had somehow managed to drag Bakura back out there.

Bakura gave a stiff nod in Yami's direction, and he completely ignored Marik. When he reached Malik, he thought, 'Showtime.'

"Hey," he said, throwing an arm around Malik's waist and drawing him in for a kiss. Once it broke, Bakura glanced towards Marik. The kiss had the desired effect – Marik looked furious.

Malik just looked confused. "Hi, Bakura," he returned. "Er – sorry about the whole calling you at three in the morning thing."

"Doesn't matter," Bakura said, shrugging.

"So you're not still mad?" Malik asked, surprised.

"Nah. I wasn't really mad in the first place."

"Oh really?" Ryou raised his eyebrows. "Not even when you refused to bail him out of jail? Or when you said that since he called you at three in the morning he was nothing but an assho-"

"Hikari, I suggest you don't finish that," Bakura growled. He still had his arm around Malik, much to Marik's anger.

"Ryou," Marik said, seething, "would you mind at all if I go inside for a second? Breaking out of jail's made me thirsty."

Ryou looked tentatively between Marik and Bakura, before evidently deciding that it would be wise to separate them as much as possible. "Sure, Marik, go on – "

"Excuse me?" Bakura snapped. "It's my house as well, and I say no fucking way."

Without facing Bakura, barely acknowledging to whom his next words were directed, Marik ground out, "I believe I was talking to Ryou." And, ignoring Bakura's angry snarl, he stormed past everyone to the house.

Bakura, enraged at having his orders ignored, followed him, which left Malik, Ryou and Yami. Knowing it was a bad idea to leave Marik and Bakura alone together, but preferring not to get involved, Malik and Ryou nominated Yami to go inside too.

Bakura found Marik in the kitchen.

"All right, what are you pulling?" he demanded. "Why did you ask to come inside?"

Marik threw Bakura a condescending look. "Well, partially because I couldn't stand you being there, but mainly – " He opened the fridge, " – because I was thirsty. Unlike you, I don't feel the need to lie to everyone all the time."

"You don't lie because you're shit at it." Bakura glared.

Marik snorted. "Yeah, and you're just brilliant. All that crap you were telling Malik back there…I'm amazed he didn't realise you were full of shit."

"And what if he had? Would you sweep him off his feet when he's heartbroken like the valiant knight in shining armour you are?"

"Bakura, I swear, if you don't shut up – "

"You'll do what? Hit on Ryou again?" Bakura sneered. "Doesn't really work when he doesn't like you. The reason you hate me being with Malik is that he likes me as well."

Marik was gripping his drink so tightly that it risked breaking. "Give me one day and trust me, I can make Ryou like me," he said confidently. "Then we'll see if it works."

"That sounds almost like a challenge, Ishtar." Bakura folded his arms across his chest.

Marik paused. "That sounds almost like you're interested."

Bakura had always been competitive; just the thought of any sort of challenge or competition sparked his interest. "You serious?" he asked.

"Want to make a bet, then?" Marik's eyes began to glitter with malice. Bakura wasn't the only one who liked a little 'friendly' competition. "A bet on what I said before. I get a day to make Ryou like me. Deal?"

Bakura considered. While he thought, however, someone besides Marik spoke behind him: Yami.

"Don't tell me you're going to actually do that," Yami said incredulously.

"Fucking hell, Pharaoh, how long have you been there?" demanded Marik.

Smiling slightly, Yami replied, "Long enough to confirm exactly why you two hate each other. Hikari problems?"

"None that concern you," Bakura snapped. "Get your royal ass back outside."

Yami, predictably, didn't move. "Bakura, you're not actually going to use Ryou for some stupid bet, are you?"

Bakura shrugged. "Why the fuck not?" Did Yami think that Bakura had the same sort of close relationship with Ryou as Yami had with his hikari? He could keep dreaming.

"Come on, Bakura. Are you in or out?" Marik asked.

"If you agree to do this, I'll tell Ryou," Yami threatened. "That'll ruin the whole bet."

There was no way someone could threaten Bakura and walk away completely intact. He grabbed Yami by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall.

"Ishtar, I agree to the bet," Bakura said loudly. Then, glaring at Yami, he added, "If you say a word, I'll rip your fucking balls off, understand?"

Yami looked ready to kill Bakura, and he probably would have if his position had been better. "Marik, you'd better win this stupid thing," he spat.

Bakura let him go. "I say we lay down some rules," he said. "And since the Pharaoh here loves sticking his nose in our business so much, he can be the one who enforces those rules."

If Yami had any objections to having this role, he kept them to himself.

"Fine," Marik said shortly. "First rule: I get a full twenty-four hours."

That was simple enough, Bakura thought. "You only win if Ryou tells you that he likes you, or does something that extremely obviously points to it. The Pharaoh can judge that."

Marik frowned, but agreed anyway. "What do we get if we win?"

"Glad you asked." Bakura smirked. "When I win, you're going to turn yourself in to the cops."

"What?" both Marik and Yami exclaimed.

"Too much to risk?" Bakura taunted.

Marik growled. "Of course not. Fine. But if I win – "

"Let me guess, I have to break up with Malik?" Bakura rolled his eyes. "How predictable. And I suppose I have to do it in a way that doesn't link to you, so that you don't get the blame and he comes sobbing to you for comfort."

Marik glared at him. "Close enough. And," he said coldly, "on top of that, you have to go without sex. For three months."

That one was harsh, but Bakura knew there was no way Marik would win.

"All right, Ishtar. But one more rule: in the twenty-four hours, I'm free to do whatever I want with Malik, and you can't do anything to stop me."

Judging by the murderous look that was on Marik's face – coincidentally, the same one that was present every time he saw Bakura and Malik together – this rule would push Marik to his limits. And that was exactly what Bakura wanted.

"Agreed," Marik said finally.

"Anything you want to add, Rule Enforcer?" inquired Bakura, turning back to Yami, who had his arms crossed angrily.

"You two are fucking idiots."

"Right, anything else?"

"No, I think 'you two are fucking idiots' covers it."

Bakura smirked again. "Shall we start the wager soon, then? Say, in an hour?"

"Works for me," said Marik. "Prepare to become well-acquainted with your hand over the next three months, Bakura."

"I hope they give you a nice prison cell this time," Bakura said with a twisted smile.

"How's the Pharaoh meant to keep an eye on us both to make sure we're following the rules? He can't be in two places at once."

Bakura snorted. "That little asshole can go in and out of rooms so fast you don't even notice. He almost can be in two places at once."

Sure enough, until that moment neither of them had realised that Yami had left the room.

There was a long silence in which Marik and Bakura thought about their plans for the bet. Bakura wasn't even going to stop Marik going after Ryou; he knew Ryou would never want Marik, no matter what he did. Instead he was going to use the rule about doing whatever he wanted with Malik to his advantage. He planned to make Marik crack and lose by default.

The silence was only broken when, from the doorway, Malik and Ryou appeared, looking extremely apprehensive.

Ryou looked between Marik and Bakura. "We couldn't hear anything, and none of you came outside again, so we thought we should make sure you hadn't killed each other."

"Where's Yami?" Malik asked sharply.

Bakura grinned at him. "The Pharaoh is unfortunately alive and well. He's just buggered off somewhere."

"Should I ask why you two can suddenly stand to be in the same room as each other?" Ryou said with a small, knowing smile that Bakura hated.

"No," both yamis replied unhesitatingly.

Then Marik shot Bakura an evil grin.

"Ryou," he began. "Do you reckon Malik and I can stay the night, just until any heat with the cops has died down?"

"Er…I guess so," Ryou answered, shrugging. "And if you see him, tell Yami he can too."

Marik looked cocky. That is, until Bakura said, "That'll be cramped. Unless you're right sleeping in my bed with me, Malik."

Marik's look turned bitter, and now Bakura was the cocky one.

Both of them were thinking the same thing: the competition was on.


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