A/N: I had fun. Lots of it. First parts are in Marik's POV, last one is in Bakura's. Had kind of a difficult time describing Bakura's mechanical physique, but hopefully it's clear enough. :D

Disclaimer- Ana: I own nothing but Katrina here...
Katrina: Oh you did not just say that.
Ana: Fine! I own nothing... *grumbles*


Chapter 7

"Nya… Kaiba, that bastard!"

"It's my map, and he's got me busting my ass for the goddamn cook?"

Both males, unanimously bitching, were cut off as a strong hand was placed forcefully on each of their shoulders from behind.

"I won't tolerate a cross word about our captain! There's no finer officer in this or any other galaxy," Yami growled loudly, his deep, booming voice echoing in the metal stairway down to the galley. Marik scowled and continued walking. He could see a dim light flickering at the bottom of the stairs. Someone was whistling, a tune that Marik knew, but the name escaped him.

"Bakura!" Yami barked out once they had reached the galley. Through the hazy smoke a slim figure appeared, his long white hair tied back loosely. Jou let out a breath of recognition. It was the man from the tavern.

Marik looked sideways at him when he heard the respiration. He supposed the canine must know this man somehow, but Marik was pretty sure he had never seen him before. The cook wore normal sailor's clothes and a long culinary apron over them.

"Mr. Yami. Bringing visitors down to meet me? How… nice," Bakura said smoothly, his British accent ringing distinctly and sounding out of place in the dirty kitchen. He stepped forward into the light, and Marik gasped audibly.

"A cyborg," he whispered out loud, before he could stop himself. Pegasus' last words flashed through his head unbidden.
["The cyborg… Beware the cyborg…"]

Most of the right side of the man was completely made of machine. The top of his arm connected to the shoulder was some kind of swivel joint for easy movement, and another bendable joint was where the elbow should have been. The arm ended in five metal finger-like appendages that looked like they could alternate into other devices for different uses. His leg looked like some kind of mechanical peg leg. When he cocked his head to look inquisitively at Marik and the doctor, Marik saw a dark metallic ear on that side of his head, and… a gilded eye that whirred and clicked as it watched them, seemingly of its own accord.

"Ah, Doctor! So nice to see you again," Bakura smirked, eying the hybrid's metal suit. "Love the outfit." Jou uncomfortably covered his private areas with one hand, remembering his earlier suspicions about the metal eye. Hastily, he pushed Marik in front of him and backed away from the man.

"This is Marik Ishtar!"

Bakura's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Marik, then narrowed almost simultaneously. Marik stared, slightly confused. Does he know me? At the inn… I thought I saw white hair. Could it be-

"How do you do, Marik?" Bakura was holding out his mechanical hand for him to shake. Marik scowled at it, and let his suspicious gaze carry up to the man's face, hands not moving from his pockets. Jou let out an appalled "Marik!", but he ignored him.

Cyborgs were stereotypically mistrusted in most branches of society. This was generally because of the rumors that went along with them. It was said that many cyborgs were hardened criminals, and that they had replaced their limbs because they lost them in fights or in bets, or that they had traded them on the black market. Many of these rumors were probably true, but still… It was rude not to shake someone's hand, no matter who, or what, they were.

Bakura looked at Marik's rigid stance. Something crossed his face. …Anger? Hurt? But then his features relaxed, and he pulled the hand away easily.

"It's nothing, really. I know my… deviations can be rather intimidating. Little Marik here has probably never seen a real cyborg up close before, have you, boy?" He ruffled Marik's hair roughly with his normal hand. Marik stepped back away from his hand, real fury plain on his face now.

No one. No one touched him like that. Like… like a father.

Bakura looked slightly bewildered at his reaction, but shrugged. Changing the metal fingers to an assortment of knives and other kitchenware, he began to prepare some kind of dish. The others looked on in a kind of amazement as the man transformed his hand into everything needed to cook the food, including an open burner for sautéing the various ingredients.

"Still… these gears certainly have their uses, don't you think? Here, try some. It's an old family recipe…" the man said, ladling out some of the stew into two bowls and handing them to Jou and Marik. The canine's eyes lit up immediately upon the sight of food.

"… Stew! My favorite," he yapped jubilantly, forgoing the spoon offered to him, and instead using his tongue to lap up the stew. When he got to end however, he let out a loud gasp of horror. A severed finger lay there at the bottom of the bowl. Bakura sidled up to him casually, a grin on his lips.

"In fact," he said, taking the finger out of the bowl and using it to point dramatically at the poor doctor, "that was part of the old family!" He lost it then, throwing his head back and laughing uncontrolledly. (A/N: Just picture that one infamous scene in Season 2, in the dream-realm with Marik...) Jou looked at the finger with unconcealed disgust and waited for Bakura's fit to subside, which it did eventually.

"Oh, it's just a joke!" Bakura said, still sniggering a little. When Jou looked away, Marik saw him stick the finger into his pocket. Warily, Marik looked into his own stew. He hadn't touched it yet, and now he wasn't planning on eating anything the cook prepared. Ever. Vaguely he wondered what they would do with his emaciated body once he had starved to death. Would they dump his body on some random asteroid they were passing, or just toss him over the side of the ship? Or… would they find bits of him in a future meal? He decided he really didn't want to know.

Just when he was about to inconspicuously set the bowl onto the counter beside him, something that looked like a giant hairball flew at him and buried its face into his stew. Marik shrieked and dropped the bowl, calling the attention of the others.

"Th-that th-thing attacked me!" he stuttered, pointing at the little beast, who by this time had finished Marik's stew and had floated upwards towards the ceiling, making contented little "kuree" noises. Marik got a better look at it. It seemed to be, literally, a ball of brown fluff. Two large, soft eyes gazed placidly out of the fur, and four little claws were its feet.

"What, Kuriboh? He wouldn't hurt a thing, would you, you little hairball?" Bakura said. Kuriboh flew over to him and nuzzled itself into his white hair. Bakura looked smirking over to Marik.

"See? Harmless. You okay over there, Marik? I wager he scared you something awful," he simpered, voice mocking. Marik, now extremely embarrassed, just glared at him. "I rescued Kuriboh here on Proteus 1. Been together ever since…" He reached up and scratched the ball of fluff fondly.

Just then, a bell sounded loudly from on deck. Yami looked at Jou.

"We're about to get underway. Would you like to observe the launch, Doctor?" If he had had a tail, the hybrid would have been wagging it for he was worth.

"Would I? Would I?" Then he caught sight of Yami's exasperated face. "I'll just… follow you, then." They both turned to leave. Marik started to follow them, but Yami pushed him back.

"Mr. Ishtar will stay here, in your charge, Bakura."

Bakura, who had been tasting his stew, choked in mid-swallow. Sputtering, he beat his chest in an attempt to clear the food out of his windpipe.

"Excuse me?" the man asked, appalled.

"Captain's orders!" Yami snarled, as if these words constituted godliness. "See to it the new cabin boy is kept busy." With that, he left.


Marik and Bakura both rubbed their eyes wearily. Looking up, each saw that the other had been doing the exact same thing. Marik quickly looked away. Now that they were alone, Bakura's disposition changed. The ever-present smile he had wearing with the first mate and doctor dropped immediately. He scowled at Marik.

"So… The captain stuck you with me, hm?" he asked, his deep voice ominous in the silent kitchen. Marik backed away involuntarily.

"…Whatever." Wow. Great comeback, Marik! Moving away to a far corner of the room, he sat down on a barrel and watched Bakura warily. Now that he wasn't distracted by the doctor's inane babbling or Yami's stony presence, he could examine the cyborg more closely.

Bakura wasn't really much older than himself, despite his odd white hair. He couldn't be older than twenty-one. While the right eye was metal, the other was an alluring, blood-red color, which pulled Marik in when he stared at it. Blushing, he suddenly realized that the other was incredibly good-looking.

Bakura hadn't seemed to notice Marik's gawking. Sneering, he turned back to the cutting board and, transforming his hand into a large knife, began to chop some vegetables sitting there, perhaps with a little more force than necessary.

"Well, who am I, a lowly cyborg, to question the great captain's orders?" Sarcasm could have been his second language. Marik felt a little kinship towards the other at this. After all, he had known as the Master of Sarcasm from a young age, and til now, he had never found another person who shared his affinity for it.

"Yea…" Marik muttered. Then he got an idea. Plucking a purple fruit from the barrel next to him, he rolled it around his palm. Maybe he could settle this suspicion once and for all.

"You know…" Marik said slowly, "These perps… They're kind of like the ones back home… on Montressor." He looked up quickly to catch the cyborg's reaction. "You ever been there?"

Bakura kept his back to Marik.

"Can't say I have." He didn't sound like he was lying… Taking a bite of the perp, Marik continued to watch Bakura.

"You know… Just before I left, I met this old guy who was… kind of looking for a cyborg buddy of his."

"Is that so?" Bakura asked, his voice mild. He didn't turn around.

"Yea. What was his name? Oh yea. Pegasus. Maximillian Pegasus?" Again he looked at the cyborg for any hint of faltering or flinch of recognition.

"Pegasus? You mean like the horse?" Bakura finally turned to look at him, no hesitation in his words or gaze. He smiled at Marik, who felt extremely unnerved by all the bipolarity the man was displaying. "It's not ringing any bells. Must have been another cyborg. There's a whole slew of us cyborgs running around… this area, you know?" Again he grinned slyly. Marik couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

A whistle was heard from above.

"Prepare to cast off!" came Yami's rumbling bellow. Bakura gave Marik another inscrutable look.

"Why don't you go and watch the launch? Don't worry; there'll be plenty of work waiting for you afterwards."

Marik turned without another word, and stalked off up the stairs of the galley. Maybe he'd been wrong. Bakura didn't seem to know anything about that night at the inn. After all, all Marik had seen that night to make him suspicious of the man was that flash of white, which could have been anything really. And now that he thought about it, it was kind of stupid to condemn someone just on that. Bakura didn't seem like a particularly bad person… In fact, Marik kind of liked him. Still… He had seemed to know Marik somehow. Silently, he resolved to keep an open eye. And an open mind.


Bakura watched the boy's back as he left. He had a nice walk, really. Such slim hips… He gritted his teeth. What the hell… No! No.

Marik… He was definitely the boy Bakura had seen leaving the inn that night, watching him while turned around in the retreating carriage. The boy who had stolen the map. His bloody map.

When he had seen both him and that fool of a mutt walk into the kitchen, he had to admit he had been taken aback. Though he'd been pretty quick to mask his recognition, he knew Marik had seen something in his face.

Gods! But up close… The boy really was beautiful, no doubt about it. Had he been a piece of shiny jewelry, Bakura would have stolen it without a second thought. Bronzed skin, flaxen hair that hung so neatly around his face, and those stunning violet eyes… Bakura thought they had pierced his very soul.

He punched the wall next to him, instantly regretting it. Damn! Kuriboh floated up next to him, looking concerned.

Bakura held his face wearily in his left hand. No matter how attractive the boy was, he couldn't let himself get attached. Nothing good could come of it…

Plus the fact that Marik was already suspicious of him. He couldn't tell whether the other had also seen him at the inn, or if it was something that blasted Pegasus had told him. Either way…

"We'd best keep a close eye on this one, eh Kuriboh? We wouldn't want him straying into things he shouldn't."


Bakura isn't able to resist Marik's effeminate charms. He's just too damn pretty!

Happy with this chapter. So happy. So happy that I wrote it in one day, which I almost never do. I was just too excited to get into the Thiefshipping.

Probably won't update for a while, seeing as I have yet to start on my summer work. Curse you fanfiction! You keep me from doing scholarly-type things, you bastard! One day. One day... *threatening scowl*

Comments? Questions? Concerns? Reviews are nice. Very nice. :]