Chapter Nine

Rome

History, rain and too many old acquaintances

(This chapter serves as a chance for me to write in unnecessary cameo roles. It feels like forever since I've written Seto or Duke into this, and to be honest, I bloody want to.)

Hangovers were a thing of misery.

Only Malik, having sobered up by his dip in the canal, remembered anything of the night before, and he was refusing to divulge the information that was unique to his- admittedly blurry- mind. The rest sat on the plane seats in silence, dozing, waiting for the plane to land.

Malik smirked to himself.

I was probably lucky that he'd sobered up- otherwise, there was no way they would have managed to get back to the aeroplane. They'd tried the hotel first, but as that branch of the Devlin hotel was a small place, run by a family who lived on the top floor, it had been locked and bolted by four in the morning, when they'd struggled back. Luckily, he remembered the way back to the airport, and locating the window of the pilot's room, they'd managed to wake him to let them in.

He had to admit, his memory was foggy. He remembered hitting the guy in the jaw, the unbridled jealousy- especially at the fact that Ryou was not pushing the man's hand off his leg- had not mixed well with the alcohol. He'd had to pay the red-light district girl at a quarter to three when she hailed a taxi, minus her horns, which still lay haphazardly tangled in Bakura's hair. They probably wouldn't be coming out any time soon, either. The night had passed in a blur of bright lights, dark waters and an unmatched closeness to Ryou, which he could not quite explain.

The plane touched down with a bump that made them all wince.

Marik stood up, and stretched.

"We're here."

"No shit. Where is here this time?"

Marik smiled at his other half.

"Do not sound so worried, Malik. This is stop is simply an excuse for Bakura to bitch about how the Egyptians were superior over all other ancient races."

"Damn right," muttered Bakura.

Marik grinned as they stepped out onto the metal stairs running down to the tarmac.

"I give you Rome, my friends."

Later, after a good few painkillers and cups of coffee

The four stood in the Coliseum, with varying degrees of curiosity on their faces. Ryou looked enthralled by the guide book he was nose deep in, and even Malik, scanning the pages over Ryou's shoulder, looked vaguely interested. Marik was enjoying himself throwing pebbles at tourists, an irritation to them that was made worse by the fact that they did not know where the missiles were coming from. Bakura was leaning on a rail, overlooking the circular central of the stadium where the floor used to be.

"Pah. The Romans consider this their greatest achievement? It's falling apart! Take the pyramids, the sphinx… still intact."

"Not really. And think of the Alexander lighthouse. That'd disappeared."

Bakura glared.

"Shut up Ryou. And I've told you enough times that the lighthouse doesn't count, it was way after my time."

"It was aincient Egypt."

"Yeah, but practically the Greek era."

"You're just being picky."

Bakura chose to ignore this.

"You see, the Egyptians, despite coming before the Romans, were obviously more civilized. We never forced people to fight each other for our own entertainment."

Ryou glanced upwards again.

"No, you just made them build ridiculously sized graves."

Bakura visibly bristled.

"Hey. Not my graves."

Ryou smiled apologetically.

"Yeah, you just robbed them. An ancient Robin Hood?"

"Damn right."

After they had their fill of architecture, classical history, bitching and annoying tourists, they wandered off. They walked down streets, not going in any particular direction, for an hour or so, the air helping their headaches a little.

Due to traditional Mediterranean attitude, they were taking their time here, not really doing much at all.

The four stopped in a square. The floor was paved with large stones, and several restaurants had striped awnings out over the pavements, with tables scattered over the pavements, huddled under large, brightly coloured umbrellas, busy even in the cloudy but warm weather. There was a large bronze stature in the middle. Ryou smiled serenely up at the overcast sky. The other three were surprised at how quickly he'd gotten over his hangover.

"So Ryou, are you more excited about the ice-cream, the Italian boys or the prospect of ever more history?"

Ryou blushed.

"Be quiet, Bakura. It's an obvious answer."

"Indeed."

Marik smirked.

"Well, I only came for the food. Malik, you're going to have to follow Ryou around and do all other the history stuff, not that you'd mind, because me and Bakura are getting more coffee and food. We'll be in that place. Come find us later, okay?"

With that, and a lewd wink and Malik, Marik dragged Bakura over to one of the restaurants, leaving the other two in the middle of the square.

Ryou turned to the other, smiling.

"C'mon. When in Rome-"

"Do as the Romans do?"

Ryou smiled sweetly.

"Well, yeah, but I also want to be a nerd, so lets go find the metro station."

They found one eventually, and after spending a good few minutes trying to work out where they were going, they ended up on a cramped train, standing and clinging on to the metal poles. With each lurch as the train stopped and started, they staggered to and fro. Ryou landed against Malik's chest, one palm on the blonde's shirt to balance himself. There was a slightly embarrassed moment as they righted themselves, soon passed when they had to throw themselves out of the door before it left.

They wandered for hours, seeing the Palatine and the Pantheon and the Spanish Steps and the Trevi fountain, Ryou with intense enthusiasm, Malik with slightly less so. They made good use of their day-use metro tickets, and Malik stared in awe at the amount of mopeds dodging through the thick traffic. By around five they decided to head back.

They were walking down a road when they heard a shout.

"Hey! Ryou!"

The pair turned to see a see a large black car that was conspicuous on the crowded streets by its gleaming bodywork and tinted windows. Someone was leaning out of the back window, waving. His hair was long and black, and he was wearing a red headband.

"Duke!"

"Jump in! I'll give you a lift!"

Malik groaned as the car pulled up next to them and the back door opened. Ryou did indeed 'jump' in, followed much less enthusiastically by Malik. The car was luxurious and cool, with two rows of seats facing each other, the chauffer hidden from view by a panel of darkened glass. The seats were soft leather, and Devlin was sitting on one, having pulled Ryou down next to him. Malik took a seat stiffly on the other bench, scowling, just as Ryou was telling Devlin where to take them.

"So what are you doing here, Duke?" asked Ryou.

"Business," Duke breezed, smiling at Ryou. "How is your trip going?"

His face changed abruptly as he glanced at Malik, turning from an almost hungry smile to a cautious frown. His mouth twitched into what could almost be a smirk, and he turned back to Ryou, who was listing all the places they'd been so far.

"And after Sydney we went to Vegas, then Dublin, then London- because I'm from there-"

"Of course. I always did love British accents."

"And then Paris-"

"The city of love, my dear."

"And then Belgium, then Amsterdam, and now here."

"And have all of your hotels been up to scratch?

"Oh, they've been lovely."

"I'd be happy to file any complaints you've had… perhaps you can show me where the faults are, especially in the bedrooms…"

There was a loud cough from Malik, whose frown had deepened. He sat there in sullen silence as the other two chattered away, deeply jealous and angry. It took them about fifteen minutes to get back to the square, in which time Ryou and Duke's animated conversation had moved on to literature, and conversation that Malik found difficult to join in with. When they arrived, Malik jumped out first, as if nauseated by the very presence of Duke Devlin.

Bakura and Marik looked up from their seats outside one of the cafes, staring at them in curiosity. They saw first the large black car, then the angry Malik. Just as their curiosity peaked, they saw the reason. Duke had linked Ryou's arm, and was leaning close to him.

Bakura growled under his breath.

The first of many drops of rain pattered onto the stone floor of the square.

Marik looked over at Bakura, then at his angry lighter half, and grabbed a steak knife from the finished plates on the table next to them.

Duke glanced over at them, eyes wide.

The yamis stood purposefully at their table, waving over to the other two with their typical crazed smiles that promised nothing but pain, misery and a lot of blood as Malik took a seat next to them.

Duke eyed the knife as Bakura smirked a grin that was both cruel and rather pleased with itself.

"Hey, Duke?"

Duke took a step away from Ryou, and opened the door of his car.

"Yeah?"

"Fancy a haircut?"

The knife glistened from the rain, Bakura's grin reflected in it.

"I'll see you later, Ryou," he muttered, and got into his car.

Ryou went to join the yamis and Malik at the table, who had already ordered himself a beer. An orange juice sat next to his own glass, and he glared down at the table cloth with anger.

Ryou took the seat next to him.

"Is this juice for me?"

A nod was his only reply.

Bakura and Marik exchanged a glance, before leaning back and addressing Ryou.

"So why the hell were you with him?"

Ryou shrugged and smiled.

"He saw us in the street and offered us a lift, that's all."

The four lapsed into silence as the rain continued to fall, growing heavier with each passing moment, as did the atmosphere between the four. The air was hot and became more humid.

A couple wandered across the square, hand in hand, under a large umbrella. The girl, who was wearing a skirt cut to just above knee length with brightly coloured tights glanced over at them and waved. The male stared at them, and tried to pull her away.

"Hey, it's Kaiba and his little girlfriend!"

Bakura was half way out of his seat before they reached the pavement café where they sat under huge umbrellas. Kaiba was failing in his attempt to pull her out of the square, obviously cursing them under his breath.

"Hey, you're the friends of Seto's from Paris, aren't you?"

"Oh yes, we're all good friends of Seto's."

Marik joined in the conversation.

"Did Seto ever tell you about the time we joined in his nice little tournament? You should ask him about his blimp…"

Seto growled. Had Ryou not seen him do it, its ferocity and anger would have lead him to presume that it was from Bakura. He nodded stiffly at them, before pulling the girl off, who was waving at them.

Ryou watched them leave with a small smile on his face.

"How much time is he taking off work for this girl?"

"He'll have brought a laptop, I'd put money on it."

"True. Wonder why she puts up with him."

They went back into silence again.

Ryou shifted uneasily in his seat as Malik ordered another beer. He was starting to become increasingly worried about the alcohol consumption of his friends. He stretched, working out the knots in his shoulders.

"Hey, guys? I'm going to go for a walk."

Bakura looked up.

"You're not going alone."

It was a statement, not a question.

"Well you come with me then."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Rain. It's not right. Malik will go with you, wont you Malik?"

He glared at the blonde, as if daring him to say no. Without a word Malik stood up and walked off, leaving Ryou behind. Ryou sighed, waved at the other two, and ran to catch up with the blonde.

Bakura and Marik shook their heads as the walked off.

"All this sexual tension is killing me."

"I give it a week," muttered Bakura.

"No, it'll take them at least two to fuck," argued Marik, rolling his eyes.

"Pfft. That's what you said about the Pharaoh and his midget, too."

With the other two

They walked without talking for a while, both getting slowly damper as the rain continued to fall. Ryou felt increasingly uneasy as the quiet continued, as if it were growing something he did not quite understand. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"Are you angry at me?"

"Why should I be?"

"I don't know, but you seem it."

There was another long pause, and Ryou had resigned himself to a walk devoid of conversation when Malik spoke.

"Do you just not notice how Devlin hits on you?"

His tone was exasperated, irritated.

"What?"

"No, of course you wouldn't. You… I mean, you're not… interested in him, are you?"

"I… Duke? Oh no, not like that."

There was an audible sigh of relief.

"I see."

"No, there is someone else I care about, quite a lot actually."

They had stopped walking by this time, and Malik moved to face Ryou, scrutinising his face. A little stream of rain water rolled down his cheek, and his hair sat flatter against his head. He self-consciously ruffled the white hair and Malik stared at him, almost daring Ryou to lie. The blonde found himself almost hypnotised by the brown eyes he was staring into.

Ryou looked back, questioning the violet eyes, searching their depth for some hidden meaning. The spikes of his blonde hair were starting to dip downwards because of the rain, and there was a small smirk starting to twitch at the corner of his mouth. He lifted a hand, and pushed a tendril of Ryou's hair away from his face.

"I'm glad you don't like him. I wouldn't want to you to."

"Why?"

There was no reply, just a slight extension of the smirk.

"You don't remember much of last night, do you?"

Ryou started.

"No, not really. I… I remember some things, but…"

He left the sentence hanging, his eyes warm with a smile and a half-forgotten memory, blurred by uncertainness and alcohol.

Malik smiled properly then, and hugged Ryou to him with one arm looped around the others shoulders. The warmth of the others skin was felt through their damp clothes, and Ryou blinked in surprise as Malik kissed Ryou on the forehead, lightly, tasting the rain on his skin. It was short and chaste, sweet and unexpected, and they pulled apart afterwards.

"C'mon," muttered Malik, "We'd best be heading back."

Their hands touched briefly as they walked back the way they came, and they glanced at each other, smiling softly, each hiding certain secrets.

Mm. Not sure if this wasn't too cheesy. Ah, well. Here is Rome. Before you question it, this is not their last night in Italy, they are spending two days here, just not in the way Marik planned. Although, judging by Marik's plans, I wouldn't trust them anyway.

Thanks to Linzy, whose review made me smile, and to ambercharae, whose constant reviews have got me this far, and I don't think I've thanked her for it yet. Heads up to mystralwind, who is consistantly lovely. Cheers to the three of you!