Well, I hope you enjoyed the fluff. Cuz here comes the drama!

Oh baby.

I own.... the drama?

-Rin Reiko

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"Move all the bikes being shipped out front. In a row."

"But Kaiba-sa-"

"Now."

I sighed to myself as we went to move all the finished vehicles up to the front of the shop, lining them up for the great Seto Kaiba to see. Owning the majority of the electronic and mechanic conglomerates in Japan, nay, in the world, gave him the untouchable power to treat anybody and everybody like his personal slaves. His own younger brother had even fallen victim to several kidnappings in the past for ransom, and his only recorded comment had been a cold "I'm not his keeper". This, needless to say, boosted his ironfisted reputation to new heights within the corporate world.

So now, the bikes. Three Ducatis, the NINJA, a couple Yamahas, and an American Harley sent to us for custom additions were all presented to the stern businessman before us, awaiting his judgment on… well… what was he looking for anyway? I bit my lip and stood in silence.

Thick-soled boots thudded against the concrete floor of the shop as he paced before the machines, hands clasped behind the ridiculously long coat tails of his business jacket. His blue-eyed gaze seemed to dart and flicker in minute movements, sizing up our work and compiling the results in his mental files to make whatever judgment he'd come here to make.

The entire room held its breath.

"Take them apart." He commanded at last, never moving his gaze to address any one person. The entire staff dropped their jaws in unison, not caring to show our shock. Unfazed, he let the silence continue for a moment before flashing us all a warning look. "What are you waiting for?" he scowled, looking at me the longest. "Take them apart."

"B-But," I stammered at last, more outraged than afraid. "We spent weeks assembling these sir! We can't afford to disassemble and rebuild them again just for your benefit!"

"Do I care?"

The words sliced through any further reasoning. Risking a glare, I spoke again. "Why do you need them disassembled?"

"Why do you need to argue with me?" His eyes were as cold as his comments, and never wavering from my own.

I glanced at the rest of the crew, all watching without breathing, eyes wide in anticipation of the verdict. It wasn't fair to do this to them, not after how much work they'd put into these, just like they've put into each bike we send out of here. And no one could afford to waste the next few weeks rebuilding them, especially since the deadlines for new orders were coming up fast. But if Kaiba-san got mad… well, not many businesses have survived his anger. And the ones that have don't speak of it. That was a lot worse than spending the extra hours recovering from his impulsive demands.

"…Fine. Disassemble the bikes."

Murmurs of disbelief sprung up among the staff but were quickly quieted as I took charge again and got them all to work. After a rushed forty-five minutes, the bikes were laid out in pieces, except for the initial frames and core hardware, in front of the businessman's feet.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I stood and panted in completion.

Walking with deliberate steps, Kaiba surveyed the entire collection in rows, lingering on each bike in calculating silence. After an eternity, he approached the dismembered NINJA and plucked a single needle jet from the pile of carburetor parts, inspecting it from a distance with disdain. Joey gave me a wary glance that I did not return. There was no way…

But his eyebrow rose in question.

"This is not from the same model." He stated bluntly, not negotiating the fact. Our silence was broken only by a loud gulp from Joey's throat, his already thin armor cracking. Blue eyes turned to meet mine. "You are mixing parts behind my back."

There was a very loud, childish part of me that would've loved to take a welding torch to his face. "We did not get the proper shipment in time," was all I replied, hoping that would satisfy him.

I should know better.

"Then why didn't you complain to the manufacturers?" His gaze grew colder, if that was even possible, approaching me in accusation. "You know that no one is allowed to cut corners so long as I run this business! Every part…" He brandished the needle jet in front of me for effect. "Every single part of these bikes needs to reflect the quality and superior craftsmanship that Kaiba Corporation stands for! There are no excuses for this kind of shoddy work, and the next time I see it you will be terminated. Do you understand?"

Before I could even nod, a certain yankee drawl interrupted me.

"It wasn't his fault!" the other blonde cried, taking a stab in the dark against a giant. My eyes went wide in disbelief, still trying to convince myself that this was all just a weird dream created by too much leftover pizza. Maybe Bakura would wake me soon, frustrated with all my sleepy thrashing, and growl that I needed to stay on my side of the bed or there would be hell to pay. At least his hell was better than this one.

The icy gaze switched from me to Joey now, blizzarding over him as the mogul's impatience thinned. "What was that?"

"I… I said it wasn't his fault!" he repeated, building a momentum of rebellion. "He didn't switch the parts…. I did!" Straightening his shoulders on the last note, Joey braced himself for whatever wave of anger would come crashing down on him.

My jaw fell open without care. Why on earth was Joey taking the blame? He was there when I'd told him to use the other model's parts… and didn't he specifically comment that he wouldn't take the rap on this one? Bakura, hurry up and kick me awake.

"Did you now?" Kaiba circled him slowly, the standard predatory tactic of most carnivores on the planet, never breaking eye contact. "And just who might you be?"

He swallowed for courage. "Joey Wheeler, sir. Senior Mechanic."

"That's an American name."

"Yes sir."

A barely visible smirk played on his lips. "No wonder." Eyes flash back to me for a second. "And you knew of this switch?"

I caught Joey's gaze enough to read his warnings. I wasn't about to sacrifice his risk for nothing. "No sir… only that parts were scarce."

"Hm." He circled Joey once more before breaking away and snapping for his wingmen to move from their immobile positions. "Wheeler-san, you will stay here for as long as it takes to reassemble these bikes the right way. After that, you can consider yourself fired."

Joey's face paled as I growled, "I make those decisions in this shop, Ka-"

"-And I make the decisions about your decisions, Ishtar-san." He noted, cutting me off with a point. "And unless you want me to decide your future as well, you will do to follow my orders. If I find him still on the payroll after three days, there will be severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

"… Crystal, sir."

"Good." Turning on his heel, he headed out the front door of the shop with the two black-suited men close behind, disappearing into the bright afternoon light as the door swung shut in submission. Thick silence was everywhere, driving us mad.

When the numbness faded from my body a bit, I slowly turned my head to look back at Wheeler, staring ahead as if the world had been pulled out from under his feet. The rest of the shop was motionless in their cluster around us, not daring to even exist for fear of wrecking something. I knew that tactic all too well.

Someone had to break the spell.

"Ok…" I clapped distantly, awaking some from their stupor of shock. "We have a lot to do. Let's get to it."

Slowly, reluctantly, the crowd began to move. I could feel that a small sigh had been released from the group, but the full, exhaled breath had yet to pass. Just a matter of time now… The ordinary sounds of the shop returned as the mechanics resumed their work and started to reassemble the piles Kaiba had just rejected. Only one worker remained near me, staring off into his distant future with shocked eyes, replaying his death sentence over and over again.

My hand touched Joey's shoulder, jolting him from his blank thoughts. His tortured gaze turned into something far more futile as he caught my eyes, all shields down and with no way to bring them back up. I'd never seen him like this before, but I was no stranger to his expression, having worn it myself more often than I'd like. At that point, there was nothing much to do, so I offered the only comfort I could.

"Come into the office, Joey."