A/N: Yay!!! Reviews!!! Seriously, you guys made my day. And probably my tomorrow too. 3x4375894243523. And a half.
consumedbylove: yup, I'm pretty sure they're poisonous…it's because of what they eat. Bakura's built up a resistance to them though. And, as for the tongue, he stole it from Aknamkanon's sarcophagus before he lost his body. Because if his physical body wasn't intact, then his ka (soul) wouldn't be able to reconnect with the body and it would wander the afterlife forever. Yami doesn't know that, though. So happy you like it! ^^
haruka-kinns: trenchcoats FTW. And don't worry about the facebook thing, Bakura said he likes you because your name is almost exactly like his with one letter different. Yay, I like making people laugh 3
natcat5: Thank you!! And YES I LOVE YGOTAS. That's where 'Egyptian Fury' came from (so much more badass than Brooklyn Fury imho). I'm still gonna try to figure out a way to incorporate Effeminate Fury. Mwahaha…:D
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YAMI'S POV
You know, I really do like Ryou. I can't really explain why – part of it is his personality, of course. He's always been sweet, unpretentious, and adorable. I love the way he gets all flustered and pink when he's nervous. I love the fact that somehow he manages to permanently smell like cookies and tea. And I happen to be a sucker for British accents, I've found, which is really quite peculiar when you think about it, because Britain was still in the Stone Age when I was alive, and I have a feeling they certainly didn't talk like Ryou back then. Ah well, stranger things have happened.
He's also got the most beautiful brown eyes. Despite everything that's happened to the poor guy, they still seem to be completely honest and trusting. He has a smile that makes baby kittens feel like they're bad people. And he's got a really sweet ass. I mean, it's a piece of art unto itself. Whatever God created it must be proud. I've been used to getting what I want, obviously, and keeping my hands off him hasn't been easy.
All in all, Ryou is a man after my own heart. And yet, with all that said, I'm not sure even he is worth the hell that I'm currently going through at the moment.
It turns out the Tomb Robber is a speed freak. Considering he's only been driving for 30 seconds (and does not yet know how to stop a car), that is definitely a bad thing.
I stared at the windshield, trying to pretend this whole thing wasn't really happening. We were hurtling down the street at 70 miles an hour, and the speedometer was rising. Bakura was leaning forward, hunched over the steering wheel with a maniacal glint in his eyes. If I made it out of this thing alive, I swore to myself, I would figure out some way to get Bakura in a state mental hospital. Indefinitely.
"For God's sake, you're about to hit that telephone pole!" I screamed.
We wheeled sharply to the left. An oncoming car in the left lane honked at us, but Bakura just floored the gas pedal, cackling hysterically. The poor driver had no choice but to veer to the right, going up onto the sidewalk and crashing into a storefront.
"Bakura, you're supposed to drive on the right side of the road! What the hell is the matter with you?"
"There are other cars on the right side of the road," he observed astutely. Damn right there were. I couldn't see the drivers clearly since we were roaring by at warp speed, but I was certain they were all dialing 911. Or the Anti-Terrorism Hotline.
"Your point?"
"Well, I'd have to stay behind them, right? It's much easier to just go on the left side."
"Into oncoming traffic?" I screeched.
"You saw, they're all getting out of the way."
You really can't argue with logic like that. Suddenly, there was a crunch. I caught a glimpse of something furry in the rearview mirror.
"Uh, Bakura? I think we just hit a raccoon."
"Oh, did I get him?" he asked delightedly.
It was obvious. I needed to formulate a plan to a) get him to slow down, and b) get the fuck out of this car. I really didn't fancy having to throw myself from a car the size of a small boat, at 80 miles an hour. I was 110% sure that if I wasn't able to immediately run away, the lunatic in the driver's seat would take the opportunity to throw the car in reverse and run over my twitching body. Several times. The trouble was, at the moment I couldn't really do anything but sit frozen in fear.
A funeral procession came up in the right lane. Snickering to himself, the Tomb Robber turned the steering wheel to the right and sped up. I had to give him credit, he wasn't bad at steering; he positioned himself perfectly so he scraped each and every car, breaking off their rearview mirrors and probably fucking up their doors irreversibly. Above the wind, I could hear the screaming and curses being flung in our direction. With a manic gleam in his eye, the thief sped up so he was parallel with the hearse. Suddenly he veered to the right, knocking the huge black car off kilter and sending it careening into the side of the road, where it hit a brick wall. I turned around just in time to see it crash and burst into flames.
"Nice going," I said sarcastically.
"Thanks," he said, apparently taking my statement at face value. "You know, this isn't nearly as hard as Ryou made it sound."
"That's because you're breaking every road law known to man. You do realize that if someone sees our license plate number, Ryou will be going to prison for a very long time." Despite his feigned indifference, I knew he did care about his hikari. I hoped, foolishly, that this would convince him to stop…
I didn't count on what happened next, which was that Bakura suddenly switched the gear shift to reverse, and backed into a nearby tree several times at full speed.
Yup, I thought to myself groggily. I definitely have a concussion now. Hello whiplash. Shouldn't the airbag have deployed by now?
The license plate clattered to the ground behind us. Bakura put an arm around the passenger seat and looked out the back. Seemingly pleased with his ingenious strategy, he sped off again.
He rounded a corner suddenly, and the tires screeched loudly enough to give me goosebumps, leaving puddles of molten rubber in their wake. I looked around at the scenery and immediately knew we were near the high school where Yugi, Ryou, and all their friends attended.
"Not that it really matters at this point, but when you see those yellow signs, it means you're in a school zone…where most people slow down…because that's the law…"
He gave me a deadpan, 'are-you-really-still-bothering-me-with-this-bullshit' stare.
I spotted a familiar fluff of white hair strolling across the lawn a little ways away.
"Ryou's right over there, he'll see you. You really need to slow down now, just step on the brake gradually…"
The thief seemed not to hear me at all. He'd spotted Ryou, and had changed direction. We crashed over the sidewalk, and were now hurtling over the grassy green lawn straight towards him. Bakura honked the horn a few times loudly. Ryou looked up.
The expression in his eyes changed from surprise, to pure, unadulterated terror. He froze and dropped his book bag, staring wide-eyed at the oncoming menace.
"Run, Ryou!" I screamed as loud as I could.
"Hey, good lookin'!" Bakura shouted out of the open window, and wolf-whistled loud enough for Ryou to hear. We were heading straight for the poor teen who seemed unable to move, hurtling closer and closer. He threw up his arms to cover his face…Oh God, he was going to die…
At the last possible minute, Bakura made a hairpin turn and veered away from Ryou, missing him by a good six inches at best, and speeding away again over the lawn back to the street. I turned and looked over my shoulder in time to see Ryou shudder violently, then collapse where he stood.
"Why did you do that?! Bakura, we have to go back," I said, using all my might to restrain myself from strangling the bastard. "Ryou's fainted."
"Oh for God's sake," said the thief petulantly. "He's fine. I wasn't going to hurt your little boyfriend."
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Give me a break. I know all about your little deal and your underhanded plans to molest him. He's way too gullible for his own good – the poor fool was actually hoping you wouldn't take the opportunity to violate him, if you can believe that," he commented sardonically. "Not that it's any of my business, you can do what you want behind closed doors. Keep in mind we still share a mind-link though. Where to now?"
"To the magical land of Fuck You."
"Thanks for the invitation. Although I'm not sure how I'll manage to fuck you, since I'm driving, but you look like the flexible type." He chuckled to himself. "Ya ib'n el labouaa…"
If I got out of this thing alive, I swore to almighty Ra, I would torture him…oh yes, I would torture him. He would beg for death. I played out various scenarios in my head, all of them soothing.
There he'd be, chained to a dungeon wall completely naked. I, of course would have just finished lashing him with my special whip – notorious for the metal spikes at the end. Beaten and bruised, he'd be begging for mercy…blood would be running down his naked, lean torso…I'd lick it off, slowly…he'd whimper, finally beaten…but no pity would be shown…mmm…
Wait, no. Wrong Bakura. Ew. What's the matter with me?
There was really nothing I could do at this point, so I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was on a rollercoaster. It almost worked, until the car began to suddenly careen from side to side. My eyes flew open.
Sweet Mother of Osiris. Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse. Bakura had folded himself into an awkward position in the driver's seat, his knee in the air, and was now steering – yes, steering – with his left foot, while the right remained on the gas. He seemed to be fumbling in his pockets for something.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Tomb Robber?" I boomed. "Get your hands back on the steering wheel at this very moment!"
"Oh, stuff it," he muttered, finally extracting his cigarettes from his coat.
"You've got to look where you're going!"
Up ahead, there was some kind of street fair going on. There were hot dog stands, lots of little kids with balloons, families milling around on a fine, fair summer's day. It was a perfect scene which was, unfortunately, about to come to a bloody end.
"Bakura, you need to stop! There are a ton of people up there!"
He glanced up, and turned the steering wheel with his foot so we were now making a beeline for the fair. Out of desperation, I flung myself over to the driver's side and honked the horn as loud as I could to warn everybody. Many of the people looked up and began to run.
Bakura shoved me away so hard I hit the window. "Baka Pharaoh," he growled. "What did you do that for? Now they'll be harder to get." Still searching for his lighter, he watched the scattering crowd carefully.
He spotted his quarry – a large man in a suit, running away in the opposite direction. The stupid fool was running down the middle of the street, which made him easy prey. Bakura triumphantly sped straight towards him. The man turned at the last moment, and I was shocked to recognize him as Kemo, Pegasus' bodyguard from the Duelist Kingdom tournament. I hadn't seen him in a while. He was still wearing his sunglasses, so I couldn't see his eyes, but it was obvious he was terrified. Kemo threw up his hands and screamed.
"My hair's life is flashing before its eyes!"
Then the poor bastard hit the windshield with a sickening thud, rolled over the top, and fell to the pavement behind us. The windshield was now cracked, blood spewed everywhere on the surface of Ryou's car, and Bakura was smiling as if he'd just won the lottery.
"Is he dead?" he demanded. I looked back. Kemo was twitching, and it even looked like he was trying to crawl away.
"Definitely dead," I lied through my teeth. "Good job."
Bakura let out a happy sigh, and pulled out a Camel unfiltered. He lit it up and took a long drag.
"Do you know how bad those things are for you?"
"Aw, are you worried for me Pharaoh? That's sweet."
"In your dreams. I'm just observing that you've got to be an idiot to smoke. I knew that already though."
He exhaled, taking minute care to blow the smoke sideways right into my face. I coughed.
"For your royal information, I did a lot worse things to my body back in the Kingdom, and I'm still around. Anyway, I'm not the one who sat around in the Palace all day smoking hashish."
Oh, touché, you bastard.
The nicotine rush must have made him dizzy or something, because I could tell we were slowing down a bit. We were still doing around 50, but I knew it was now or never.
We were speeding down a lonely street. Thankfully, there were only parked cars by the side of the street, and no pedestrians were around to be used for target practice. I looked over at the driver. His head was surrounded in a haze of smoke, and he was gazing ahead contentedly. Trying not to make any noise, I cautiously opened the passenger door…
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A/N: Don't smoke kids! And FYI ya ib'n el labouaa means something nasty in Arabic. Bakura speaking different languages makes me happy for some reason. By the by, I'm working on a new story now – it's going to be about Malik and the Thief King back in Ancient Egypt. I'm having a lot of fun with it so far. Ishizu's in it too. I won't give away the plot, but I'll let you know when I put it up.
Shantih: Whatcha think? Any suggestions or ideas?
Marik: You should have him be driving a motorcycle instead.
Shantih: Somebody other than Marik?
Marik: He should have gotten one of the children too.
Yami: When you put it like that, I suppose it could have been worse.
Shantih: That's true. Well, I hope my dear readers liked it. Reviewers will get a free batch of cookies baked by Bakura.
Bakura: What? No. I'm not baking anything.
Shantih: You have to. Otherwise they have no incentive to review, and then how will you know what they really think of you?
Bakura: As if I care for their petty opinions.
Shantih: Want me to write you out of the story?
Bakura: Oh fine. You really owe me that harem.
*Bakura wanders off to the kitchen*