A/N: Hello, everyone! As you can see, I'm not dead or anything, and this story is still going strong. As I've explained to some of my reviewers, I apologize for not being able to update as regularly as I used to, but life has gotten in the way. My second semester of college took way more of my time than I'd anticipated, and on March 23rd, my nana passed away. It came as a shock to all of my family because it was incredibly unexpected and random, so I've had to step away from my writing for awhile and accept everything that's been happening with my life lately. However, I'm not a quitter. When I start something, I usually almost always finish it, and that includes this story. Nana had a passion for writing, also, I discovered, so that has helped me in turn become even more certain in my own love for the art. Anyway, I am back now, so let's get started!
Special thank you to Reviewers: daisy (thanks for your kind words. Hope you enjoy this chapter!), the-writing-vampire, Merciless Ruby, Ra'iira The Fiend, Regsd, Suseh, and Eternal Eyes.
Special thank you to those who Favorited/Story Alerted: Regsd, Cream-Bunny, DNAstar, athousandroses, and Candid Mango.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh. On a brighter note, Yu-gi-oh: The Abridged Series by LittleKuriboh is now back on iTunes! Guys, if you haven't watched it, do so. Subscribe. It's hilarious and I promise you won't regret it. Furthermore, it is totally, one hundred percent FREE! Nothing is better than FREE! :D
Chapter 10: Nesmut
Téa tried valiantly to remain awake throughout the long ride to the thieves' hideout, if not because she wanted to have some sort of vague idea of where she was going to be located, then because she certainly distrusted the lot of them. However, combined with the state of her lingering injuries and her exhausted mind, the jerky, harsh gait of Bakura's Arabian horse proved too much for her to handle. Téa did something then that back home she'd truly never done in her short life of seventeen years but was definitely excelling at now that she had transported back in time. She fainted.
Time passed unbeknownst to the dancer, whose dreams were keeping her too busy to notice much of anything else going on around her. Later when she awoke, she would wonder if they were actually dreams or visions containing information of significance. However, she reasoned that they were just normal dreams since neither Haji or Malik's murderous alter ego were present and Téa had no direct control of her actions through the whole duration of the dream.
It started out as nothing but darkness at first. Blackness surrounded her in every direction, yet she could see herself though there was no other source of light to be found. She walked through this setting for a long time, finding nothing else in her path to illuminate. Of course, that didn't say much. For all she knew, she could have just been walking in place the entire time. Either option warranted the same result.
She was just about to turn back, grumbling to herself that she could speak whale just as efficiently as Ryou could, and she was going to prove it to Honda by eating a thousand marshmallows when she heard something. Voices.
Whispers in the dark.
She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she decided that it didn't matter. She had to hurry and get back to Yugi and the Pharaoh. They were supposed to have a duel with swords, guns, playing cards, and everything to decide who would end up marrying her or not. She didn't care either way, but she just knew she had to be there.
She took two steps away from the whispers before one voice stood out from the rest, projecting itself brokenly.
Wa-t... Plea...se- Don...o.
Téa felt her resolve to get back to her friends weakening, even though she couldn't make out the words the small voice mumbled. Slowly, she turned back towards where the voices were coming from and, after a moment's debate, she started following them. However, she began to doubt her choice the more she walked, forcing herself to stop her movements once again. No matter how many steps she took, the voices got no louder than a quiet wisp of wind brushing through long grass in a meadow, and she heard no more from the small but distinctive voice that had murmured to her before. Feeling like a fool, Téa turned her back on the whispers again and walked away. She had to get back to her friends, to her life.
Wait! Please don't go!
The brunette froze in place, clearly hearing the voice now, while detecting the pure desperation and panic laced in every word, though its volume still did not rise above a whisper. It sounded all the more tragic because of this, but that wasn't what finally caught Téa's attention. It was the voice of a child.
Help me... The voice whimpered, beginning to fade back into the darkness. Save me from...
Quiet. It was so quiet now, the silence deafening. The only thing Téa could hear at this point was her heart pounding in alarm, which picked up its pace when she realized what was wrong.
It was too quiet. There was nothing now. No plea of a child, no distracting thoughts of her friends, and most importantly, no other voices. They had been completely cut off.
Standing there, wide-eyed and frightened, Téa remained still a beat more before she made her decision. She spun around in the direction she'd last heard the voices and ran as hard and as fast as she could towards them.
She'd taken no more than ten paces when the darkness gave way around her. As soon as her right foot hit the ground on the seventh stride, a stone floor began to spread around her until it stopped and began to form two mud-brick walls on either side of her and a matching ceiling not too far above her head. She slowed down gradually to a halt, spinning around and taking in all that was happening around her, trying to make sense of it. Surrounding her was nothing but stones the color of dirt and burning torches lining the walls evenly every ten feet, with the smell of dusty air that had been stagnant for a very long time filling her nose. There were no windows anywhere along the corridor and, as far as she could tell, she was completely enclosed inside this place. Walking forward, she soon discovered a T-shaped intersection she could travel along in this labyrinth of stone. She wasn't entirely sure what this place was, but the only thing she could think of was that she was in some sort of underground passage. A very old, well-constructed underground passage.
She stood at the intersection of the hallway, indecisive. She could either continue walking straight, which admittedly looked as if it could continue on forever with no other turns, or she could take her chances and turn right down the newly discovered corridor. The second she drew her gaze towards the corridor to gauge if it was worth leaving her chosen path of the straight-and-narrow, she heard the voice again.
This way! Hurry! I can't–
It was abruptly cut off again before Téa could hear anymore. Clenching her fists at her sides, the dancer conceded that she couldn't just walk away and not help...whoever this was. In her opinion, the voice's identity didn't matter at this point. Not when they were going through such fear and torment. She ran determinedly down the corridor marveling at how it suddenly gave way to twists, turns, and what seemed like a thousand other paths and hallways. Even with the faint voice guiding her along, she found herself at several dead ends and going in circles. When the doors started appearing, it didn't make it any better.
Each door was made of some sort of old, soft wood that had been affected by time and in all probability the lack of sunlight. However, nearly every one that she attempted to go through were locked, and though they should have been easy to break down, she couldn't even manage it. The only doorways she could pass through were the ones containing no doors at all but were covered by linen clothes that she was easily able to move aside to find...nothing. Absolutely nothing but empty stone rooms. With each one, she felt increasingly frustrated and desperate. Every blunder she made in this stone maze caused her to lose more and more time saving this child that needed her. Every wrong turn spelled out a swifter end for them both, and the realization made Téa sick with fear and oncoming failure.
She was trying one final door when it happened.
Somehow, she knew that after all her searching, this was the door she wanted. It looked the same as the others in appearance, but it felt distinctively different. Just as she reached for the small, wobbly doorknob, the world fell apart.
No! The child's voice cried in agony, becoming more warped and distorted the more it spoke. You're too late! Why? Why did you fail! Why couldn't you save me! It's your fault! It's all YOUR fault! N-no! No! Keep away from me! Please! What are you–AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
The scream of pure, unadulterated pain ripped through the air and into her head, causing her to fall to her knees, clutching her head in pain. Her own cry of suffering erupted from her throat, but she knew that what she was feeling could scarcely compare to that of the child's. How could she have failed to save this child from its torment? The kid was right... It was her fault that this was happening, and their downfall had been her own indecisiveness.
The pain grew so great that Téa didn't notice that her surroundings were twisting and shattering around her until only darkness remained again, and she was forced to come back to herself.
Upon awakening, the teenager discovered that the pain in her head, while not nearly as extreme as her dream, was still real. Someone was trying to wake her up by...knocking on her head and shouting, "Oy! Anything in there? Wake up, I said! Ra, Osiris, and Isis, I don't know what Bakura was thinking, saddling me with this hussy. Haven't I done more for him than this? Ugh!"
Téa gritted her teeth towards such a nasty awakening from the woman–for it was a woman speaking, she realized–before her eyes shot open, and she laid there, wide awake and grumbling, "There's no reason why you should be so rude!"
"Hm? Oh, look! The Anointed One awakens!" the woman said sarcastically and finally moved into Téa's line of sight. What struck Téa was how young this woman actually was. By her appearance, she looked to be Téa's age if not a bit older, but the girl had a noticeably rougher look about her. She had wild, obsidian hair flowing jaggedly down to her shoulders with a ripped, red cloth wrapped around her head as a headband. Golden, triangular earrings–the same kind Malik wore, she noticed–dangled from her ears, and dark kohl surrounded her critical, piercing cobalt eyes with red eyeshadow covering her eyelids, which were currently lowered in a glare at Téa.
She was wearing the top of what Téa could tell was a blood red, silk lehenga choli embellished with beads, sequins, and precious stones–in short, it was a top that certainly would have been worth something. It cut off just above her bellybutton, leaving her entire mid-drift exposed. Only her left arm had a sleeve, which started at her upper arm and left her shoulder bare as it billowed out to stop just under her elbow. The other arm was sleeveless, and instead of having a full, matching skirt typical of such an outfit, the young woman had abandoned it in favor of off-white, loose, linen pants that bunched together to stop at her mid-calves. Téa got the impression of them being something like Ancient Egyptian-styled capris pants. A knife holster was wrapped around her upper thigh, and golden rings adorned a few of her fingers with a few loose, golden bracelets around her wrists. She was wearing a necklace, not made out of gold like Téa was growing accustomed to expect with these thieves, but was made out of seashells. Small shells of black and white covered the string of the necklace and a little, white starfish hung as its centerpiece. It was such an innocent, fragile-looking piece of jewelry that Téa was surprised to see it on such an uncouth girl. Paying further attention, Téa finally noticed the various white scars on the young woman's arms and revealed mid-drift as they showed noticeably against her tanned skin. No, that pure necklace certainly didn't match this hardened girl; it contradicted her very being. Téa wondered if she was aware of that.
"Ra, you're a rude foreigner! You didn't hear a word I just said, did you, hussy?" the woman sneered as she rounded the small cot Téa was laying on to stand directly in front of her, hands on her hips.
Téa could feel a scowl trying to form itself on her face, but she was able to gain control of herself before it happened. Letting out a small huff, the dancer realized that she and this girl were not off to a great start. Nothing would improve between them if she just snapped right back at her, either. She needed allies and the only way to gain them in this place was to be patient and cautious.
"I'm really sorry," Téa forced herself to get out as she sat up. "I was just having this really crazy dream when you...woke me up, and I'll admit that I'm really confused right now. Where am I, anyway?"
Téa glanced around the bare room, which served as nothing more than a resting place for her; there wasn't anything much in the room besides the cot, a few lit torches, and a broken mirror leaning adjacent to her against the wall. The room itself was circular and appeared to have been carved out of the very rock that made up the walls, ceiling, and floor, an observation that quickly reminded Téa of the dream she'd just had. Téa turned her gaze back to the woman, looking for answers.
The woman ignored her question, though, as she leveled Téa with a suspicious gaze. "Hm. Well. It seems that at least something of what I said seeped into you if you're talking to me in my language now." At Téa's genuinely lost look, the woman gave a long-suffering sigh and clarified, "You growled at me in your...whatever language when I first woke you up. I merely told you to drop the act. The whole band knows that you were lying to them before, even me, and I didn't even get to go on this mission to raid the palace. I truly regret missing it now, though, considering what all they brought back."
Her pointed look at Téa gave the girl no doubts as to what kind of spoils she was really talking about. At a loss of what else to do, the dancer ran her fingers through her matted hair. She had really screwed this part of her quest up. Well, in reality, Haji screwed it up for her, but it was she who would have to deal with the consequences. Naturally.
"Look, I––" she stopped, dropping her hand from her hair and sighed for what seemed like the nth time that day. Looking straight into the woman's intense, indigo eyes, she continued, "I know there's no way or any reason at all why you should believe me when I say this but... I honestly had no idea how to speak Anc–I mean, Egyptian until today. The only languages I've been taught to speak are English and my own tribal tongue. I have no explanation for why I can suddenly understand and talk with you right now. I mean, I guess what you said before may be true, that I'm good when it comes to things seeping in, so maybe I inadvertently learned Egyptian by living with people who could speak it. But...that doesn't really work since I only stayed with them for a couple weeks. I'm not going to apologize for bridging the language barrier between us, not when in benefits us both and especially not when I'm on your side. And besides––"
"Okay, okay, okay," the woman interrupted her, waving her hands in a silencing gesture. "I get it, alright? You're backed into a corner, and you feel that you have no other option but to talk your way out of it. Don't interrupt me!"
She wagged a finger in Téa's face as she opened her mouth to deny the conclusion the woman had just come to. She wasn't having any of that, however.
"Listen, hussy, you don't have to convince me of anything, okay? Save any excuse you have for Bakura. You're gonna need it. Not that it will help you much, not with him. Actions are really the only things that get through to that man. He won't trust you at all until you prove it through whatever suicidal trial he puts you through, and no one else will trust you either unless he gives you some sign of approval, which is almost impossible to achieve. Believe me."
She smirked down at Téa, a contemplative look settling on her features, "Yeah, you're gonna have your work cut out for you. Should be fun to watch; the others have gotten to be so boring lately, so fresh blood should be nice, eh?"
Without waiting for any response from Téa, the woman reached down and grasped her by the forearm to abruptly but not roughly pull her up out of the cot and into a standing position. The clinking of metal brought both women to the reality that Téa was still wearing iron cuffs around her wrists and ankles, their chains glinting malevolently in the torchlight.
"Huh, that's strange," the woman said quietly, speaking more to herself than to Téa. "They usually would have removed those by now..." She moved then to send the brunette a deep look of sympathy, leaving said brunette to marvel at how quickly this woman's mood could change. "I really feel sorry for you now if he's going to do what I think he's going to do."
"What? Who? You mean, Bakura? What will he do?" Téa rushed out, trying to get a grasp on why panic was suddenly rising within her. This woman's emotions were contagious to Téa; they came on so strongly that she felt compelled to follow the pull of the tide they set instead of trying to resist their oncoming waves.
"Hm? Oh! Yeah, that. Don't mind me. I'm probably just over-thinking things. I mean, why would he go to such lengths to go through with that method on a hussy like you? Now, come on! He wanted to see you when you woke up."
Téa was unable to get a word in edgewise as she was promptly dragged out of the room by her forearm.
"The name's Nesmut, by the way," the young ebony-haired woman threw behind her as she continued leading Téa into what was clearly a roughly-constructed underground lair of tunnels. She quickly became lost as the woman now coined as Nesmut weaved expertly through each intersection and tunnel. "Remember it well, hussy, because I'll probably be the nicest person you'll meet here, and I only say that because I'm feeling generous today."
"Oh, well, uh, it's nice to meet you," said Téa, trying to keep up with everything that was happening. "I'm Téana from–"
"That's nice. I think I'll just call you 'hussy' from now on, though. None of the others will let me call them that like you have, and it has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Well, actually," Téa growled out, "I'd really prefer it if you called me by my name and not by some degrading term, you know?"
"Huh," Nesmut replied with mock understanding, "Well, you know, people in the Underworld want ice water. Doesn't mean they're going to get it. Ah, and here we are! Our destination at last! Quick, make yourself presentable!"
She spun around, ignoring Téa's frustrated and bewildered appearance, and began to straighten up her modern clothes. "You wear some kooky stuff. Worthy of a hussy, though. Don't scowl at me. Your face will get stuck that way, and then Bakura will see it and think you're challenging him. He'll probably kill you for it."
Nesmut examined her for a few more seconds before she gave up and shrugged. "I guess this is as good as you get, huh? Oh, well. Knock 'em dead, hussy, unless he's already in an extremely bad mood. If that's the case, grovel. Shouldn't be too hard for you."
Quicker than Téa could process all that was happening and be able to snap back at Nesmut, the woman had slapped her lightly on the cheek and pushed her through a now-opened door that she hadn't noticed before. Surprised, the dancer stumbled gracelessly inside, watching helplessly as Nesmut closed the door behind her with a mischievous grin on her face.
In the short time Téa had spent in Nesmut's presence, she had only become more confounded with questions, feeling as isolated as she had before meeting Thema and Jabari. A pang of sadness ripped through her at their memories, but she forced it back. It would be a wound that would hurt for awhile, she had to accept that, but now was not the time to dwell on it. She had an evil spirit of the Millennium Ring to face, and she was pretty sure that his mood hadn't improved a bit from the Bakura she was familiar with. He seemed to be a nasty character with or without the three-thousand-year imprisonment inside the Ring, and she would need to be smart around him, showing no weakness.
Yeah, right, Téa thought despairingly, I'm in way over my head here.
Taking a calming breath to steady herself, Téa turned towards the inside of the room, preparing to face the renowned, ruthless Thief King only to find...a well-refurbished but empty room?
Blinking rapidly a few times in confusion, Téa searched the room more thoroughly, only to confirm her previous assessment. She was the only person here; there was no Thief King to be found.
Maybe Nesmut took me to the wrong room? she wondered. But, no, she couldn't have. She looked to know her way around too well. But, wait... What was that look she gave me before about? She couldn't have–no, she wouldn't have taken me to the wrong room on purpose. Sure, we got off on the wrong foot earlier, and she hasn't been that nice to me, but she hasn't been downright mean, either. She understands what kind of threat Bakura is, too. She wouldn't deliberately set me up. Would she?
Uncertainties flashed through Téa's head, while she nearly broke down with worry. She was used to blindly trusting people. Even if she got taken advantage of and hurt because of it, it didn't really matter to her because she had always had someone else to depend upon. It was a totally different story here; no one was going to go out of their way to help her and everyone was going to take advantage of her when and if they could. She had to understand that if she wanted to survive and get back home. She couldn't depend on Haji to do everything for her in concerns for her safety. All the same, the desire to give people the benefit of the doubt kept her in that room and in her place, waiting anxiously for Bakura to arrive. Old habits were hard to break, and it would take much to break Téa of her trusting, friendship-oriented nature. It may even be impossible to do. Either way, she was sure that she would find out if that was the case in due time.
Bakura and Malik had no time to confront each other about the newcomer when the band finally arrived at their hideaway. Each was too busy overseeing that the lower-ranking thieves took care of any treasure they'd recovered the way their Code dictated. Every thief was allowed to keep one item of his or her choosing to be used in whatever way they wished, so long as it was something that they had personally stolen and that everything else would be added into the main treasury. Each additional item would then be recorded down and sorted into their proper categories (such as jewelry, idols, weapons, decoration, and not-really-sure-what-this-is-but-it-sure-is-shiny) by the most trusted thieves. Usually, Odion, Nesmut, Ezekiel, and a few others would see to this, but Bakura had a special assignment to bestow to one of them instead.
"You are my most trusted friend next to Malik, Nesmut," he said to the now smug-looking young woman, settling a glare at her as if it was all her fault that he had to admit such a declaration. "I can see no one else performing this task better than you. A girl around your age, I believe, was taken from the palace during our raid. She claims to be a sympathizer to our cause, but something about her has me on edge. She's hiding something, and I want to know what it is and if it is a threat to us. I won't have some little slut of a spy of the Pharaoh knifing us all in the back if it can be avoided."
"Understandable," Nesmut nodded before smirking patronizingly at her leader, "but what exactly do you want me to do? Spin her a tragic story about my past so that I can get her to trust me? Fuzzy her up with some nice girl talk? Maybe do each other's hair and plot little horrid tricks to pull on the rest of the boys here? Actually, I might convince her to do that last one, anyway. It sounds fun."
Bakura sneered. "You would think that. I don't really care what you do, Nesmut, just so long as you see where her true loyalties lie. I want to know why she lied to us about misunderstanding us earlier, although I think I can get that out of her myself. Ask her about it anyway and report to me her response." His harsh features melted into a charmingly wicked smirk rarely seen on his features. "Although, since you asked, you shouldn't really do anything out of the ordinary. Just be yourself, Nesmut. I'm sure that after hearing your fucked up self talk for any length of time that she'll come clean about anything if only to get away from being around you."
"Oh, bite me, Bakura." Nesmut rolled her eyes, being far too used to her and Bakura's strange form of friendship. It relied on brutal, naked, I-didn't-ask honesty, which used just enough effort to speak their peace but not enough for them to actually care about what the other had to say. It was a relationship of commitment without the actual commitment, which was just fine with either of them.
"We tried that once before, remember?" Bakura replied, sounding completely uninterested. "It'll never work between us. It's about time you got over it."
"Ugh, go take it in the bum," she grumbled under her breath, noticing how Bakura returned from glaring at a subordinate to fix his gaze back on her.
"What was that?"
"I said, 'where's the girl at, dum-dum?'"
"Hn. Go ask Odion. He was supposed to take her to one of the spare resting rooms."
"Feh. Fine." She nearly walked away before she remembered to ask him a vital question that had been burning her ever since he'd even implied that this mystery girl could be a traitor. "And, what do you want me to do if she says anything suspicious or potentially threatening to our cause?"
Bakura was silent for less than a beat before his response came.
"Kill her."
Sometime later, after the chaos from the treasure-sorting was over and the thieves' celebration began, Bakura intercepted Malik and silently ordered the blonde to follow him. The walk to Bakura's rooms was silent, and the albino didn't make an attempt to address his right hand man even when they had settled themselves into his more secluded backroom, which contained no elaborate decoration besides a wooden table and a few chairs.
Malik made no move to speak to Bakura either. He recognized what Bakura was trying to do, and while it admittedly unnerved the blonde to see him display this faux-calm attitude, Malik knew better than to let anything but disinterest show on his countenance. Otherwise, Bakura would strike out like a cobra the minute he saw it. No answers would pass Malik's lips unless Bakura specifically asked for them; he sure as hell wouldn't give him any more information concerning himself and Téana than what he wanted to share.
It wasn't long before Nesmut appeared before them, using a hidden, back entrance that they'd discovered concealed in the room's far wall. They'd deduced that it had once been manufactured as an escape route, but not much more than that could be deciphered from it.
"Well, Nesmut? What did you find out?" interrogated Bakura.
Nesmut reported everything Téana and she had discussed almost verbatim, switching into a purely businesslike mood. Not one ounce of the joking, devil-may-care attitude was attributed to her now, though she knew that many people, including Téana, would call her behavior as otherwise. Obnoxious and rude were the two frontrunners that came to mind.
"In short, she seems nice enough. Honest but pretty damn clueless. A pushover, really. Regardless if she's a sympathizer or not, I don't think she realizes what she's getting into."
"Hm, we shall see," Bakura replied, unknowingly echoing Odion's words he'd earlier addressed towards Téana. "I'll question her about her language slip up as well and see if she manages to give a similar response. Where precisely is she now?"
"Waiting in the main room, like you asked," Nesmut answered dutifully.
"Good. Well, then, Malik, it's time you formally introduced me to your lovely friend and explained to me what exactly the deal is between you two. In the meantime, Nesmut, fetch me some hot irons."
Bakura remained unperturbed as both Nesmut and Malik jerked their heads toward them in surprise.
Nesmut asked hesitantly, "B-but, is that really necessar–"
"Now!" was the growled out reply, which was laced with so much impatience and hidden fury that any argument on Nesmut's part quickly died. She still saw the hot irons as being a bit too extreme, but that was Téana's problem now, not hers. Sure, Nesmut conceded, she seemed alright and Nesmut liked her well enough; she was amusing, yeah. But, still, they were barely acquaintances, and Nesmut wasn't about to stick her neck out for someone she didn't even know. Without any more fuss, she left the room the way she'd come before.
Téa had been gazing around the room, taking in all of the exquisite artwork and opulent furnishings with barely concealed appreciation and guilt. After all, while nearly everything in the room was sheer loveliness, nothing could change the fact that each and every item had the large, ugly blot of stolen poured all over them. People had probably lost their homes or their lives over these possessions, in some cases both. In the end, was it really worth it? And to think, Haji wanted her to conform to this lifestyle, at least for the moment. Easier said than done.
The more she looked at the magnificence of it all, the dirtier she felt. It hadn't escaped her notice that she was still wearing her grimy, sticky, bloodstained clothes from the future–all thanks, once again, to Bakura–and she was painfully aware that she had nothing else to her name except for these very gross, very ruined clothes on her back. She dropped her guard to stare longingly at an odd assortment of garments that were piled up in one corner of the room, each looked even more splendid than the next. Almost in a trance, she moved steadily nearer to them, trying to take them all in and determine what they were. Not completely realizing what she was doing, she reached out her hand to feel one particularly sleek-looking cloth when another door she hadn't noticed banged open towards her right.
"Well, well, well, it seems that our newest member has been messing with things that don't belong to her in the slightest," a dark voice snarled out. Téa snapped her head around to find the source of the voice, the rest of her body being locked in an embarrassing deer-in-the-headlights phase. As she found Bakura's blazing, crimson eyes settled on her, Malik's intense, amethyst stare following close behind, she suddenly understood how Suzaku Fujiokai had felt after their second grade teacher caught him cheating on a spelling test.
Dread filled every portion of her being, and she was mortified to feel her face flush hot, only confirming what Bakura had just said.
No use denying it now. Téa Gardner was in some deep, deep trouble, and she really had no idea how she would get herself out of it this time.
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that! I know, I know. No Malik/Téa action AGAIN, but no worries! Next chapter will have oodles of Malik/Téa/Bakura threesomes and then Malik/Téa aloneness! ...Okay, I just reread that. Yeah, I know how perverted it sounds, and it probably has significantly raised your expectations of me. Do yourself a favor and lower them a bit before you get hurt! I'm only concerned for your safety!
Fun fact: On the character of Nesmut - I wasn't planning on adding her until I found a site on the subject of Ancient Egyptian women. There was a little blurb on the site about crime and how it related/affected women, and waaaaay at the bottom of this was gold. Apparently, a woman known only as Nesmut was once accused of being a criminal and a graverobber, if I remember everything correctly. However, there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute her, so the Egyptian authorities were forced to pardon her and let her go. Again, it amazes me how these plot points write themselves.