Bakura planted a hand on a lean, naked hip. "You're stuck with me," he repeated. A wicked grin played about his lips.
Tea swallowed. "For now," she retorted, belatedly, once she regained her voice. "I already told you; I'm going to fix all this. I'm going to go get a… counterspell. Or something."
"Or something," he echoed, arching a snowy eyebrow in disbelief. He shook his head. "How on earth did you get to be any kind of magic wielder? Clearly, it wasn't by long, hard study."
Tea glared at him, but didn't answer. If she told him the truth—she'd been so desperate to see Atem again, she'd been willing to try anything, no matter how foolhardy—he'd only mock her. Better to simply ignore him.
"I suppose you'll have to come with me," she admitted grudgingly as she started to walk again. It was far from ideal, but she was going to get that counterspell even if she did have to drag Bakura all over Domino to do it.
Bakura shrugged, as if it didn't matter to him what he did with his unexpectedly vacation from the Underworld—or wherever it was that he had been. Where had he been? Hell? Or someplace like it? She opened her mouth to ask, but she was silenced by a screeching cry from across the street.
An elderly lady had just emerged from the panadería on the other side of the street. Her eyes bulged from their sockets and her mouth hung open. "¡Ay, Dios! ¡La Virgen María y todos los santos, persevanos!" she gasped, her face as red as her cherry-colored bandana. Then, before Tea could do anything beside stare, she fainted dead away.
Tea turned to glare at Bakura. He spread his hands in a shrug, giving her a smile that was anything but innocent. "Still want me to tag along?"
"Yes," she informed him in no uncertain terms. "But not like that," she conceded, making an awkward gesture towards his body. "Um, you'd better get some clothes on first." She felt her cheeks get hot.
Bakura's smile widened into a smirk. "Distracting you, am I?"
She forced her eyes up to his face. "Not at all," she lied, even as fresh flames burst over her face. "But I'd rather not send any little old ladies to the hospital if I can help it." She turned away quickly, scanning the empty streets. "The trouble is, I don't know where we're going to get any clothes," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Almost nothing's open, and there's no clothing stores on this block anyway—"
"There," Bakura interrupted, pointing.
Tea followed his pale finger. "The Laundromat?" she asked, puzzled. "But…" she trailed off as her thoughts caught pace with his. "Oh no," she said firmly. "You're not going to be stealing anything. Not while you're with me."
A devilish light twinkled in the depths of his smoky topaz eyes. "It's only clothes," he pointed out. "Clearly I need them more than whoever owns them does." The roguish light flashed again. "Even a goody two-shoes like you has to see that."
"I am not a goody two-shoes!" Tea protested. "I—oh, forget it!" She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Why on earth I should care for even a split second what someone like you thinks of me is utterly beyond me." She folded her arms across her chest and heaved a sigh. "Fine, then. Go—"she bit the word out, "—steal from the Laundromat. But only clothes!" she hurried to add. "And only what you need!"
"Go?" Bakura arched an eyebrow at her. "I thought I'd made myself clear. I go where you go. Ergo…" He smirked. "You go where I go."
Tea groaned aloud, but Bakura just clapped her on the back. "Don't worry," he told her. "I've trained lots of thieves, some of whom were almost as hopeless cases as you." He rubbed his hands together. "You can be my apprentice. Now watch the master work."
I can't believe I'm doing this. The words rolled through Tea's head in an endless mantra as she followed Bakura inside the laundromat. At least it was open, lit and unlocked. She hadn't actually done anything illegal…yet.
Bakura was already scanning the machines, his eyes gleaming. But quickly, his expression changed to a scowl. The pickings would be slim tonight. There were barely any machines in use and over half of them were washing machines. Tea suppressed a giggle at the idea of Bakura pulling on dripping duds and heading off into the chilly night.
Bakura glared at her. "And just what is so funny?" he wanted to know.
Tea made her face go blank. "Nothing," she replied sweetly. "Just waiting to watch the master work." Her lips twitched.
Bakura threw open the nearest dryer and tore through the contents. Tea bit her lip as he came up with a giant pair of pink panties and a lacy bra. Enraged, Bakura stuffed the undergarments back into the machine and slammed the door closed. He stalked off in search of another dryer, but that one turned out to have a comforter inside, and the next one had the sheets. The fourth machine he tried did have men's clothes inside—but had been started only recently. The clothes were still wet through.
That left only one more machine. Tea held her breath as Bakura ripped open the door. He pawed through its contents—which didn't seem plentiful. At last, he turned to her with an expression that Tea could only describe as dumbfounded.
Tea's breath escaped, along with a sound somewhere between a gasp and a chortle. In one arm, Bakura held a provocatively cut red and black dress, along with a pair of fishnet stockings, that Tea could only guess belonged to someone's (a female someone, she hoped) idea of a sexy Halloween costume. In the other arm, he held a one piece red bodysuit with horns and a tail.
"Well," Tea grinned. "Better the devil you know…"