***Life goals: one day own Seto's wine cellar.***

They had an armored truck waiting for them, but reaching it was no easy task. Ishizu had given them a wind-up toy, a toy cat that rang a bell. Yugi used it once they were on the ladder and close to street-level. He tossed the toy into a bush as far from the ladder as he could throw, and most of the undead shuffled to the noise. They went without flashlights, the glow would only attract the dead to them. Atem led, his sword making silent work of nearby corpses as they splashed through the street to where the truck waited for their return.

In the dark, nothing seemed real to Seto. The corpses looked like mere shadows, illusions one could ignore, and the blood that mixed into the rainwater in clumps instead of streams looked like scraps of loose shadows and not blood at all.

Yugi and Jonouchi guarded the rear. Seto often mocked Katsuya, but he had to admit that the mutt handled himself well with an ax. He never lost his calm, and followed Yugi's silent orders without complaint. After five long, stressful minutes they could see the armored truck's silhouette cutting against the dark cityscape.

"Can't wait to get home." Jonouchi cracked his knuckles, and Seto had to hold his breath to keep from shouting at him. They couldn't afford the noise of Jonouchi's words or joints.

But Yugi patted his knapsack, in which he carried the Tome so that Atem could fight. "We should celebrate. We can finally do something to help everyone. And with the zombies gone, people's obsession with Duel Monsters should fade as well, right?"

"There's no evidence to support that," Seto warned.

"The problem is Shadow Magic. Now that we have the Tome, Atem can undo any spells cast by Kamenwati."

"I still have to translate the pages enough to know how to undo the spells." Atem rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That might take awhile. If what I remember from the Shadow Game made from my memories is correct, even Aknadin had trouble translating the spells."

"Except one," Seto spoke in a quiet voice.

Atem nodded. "Except one."

Yugi rested a hand on Atem's shoulder. "You'll do it. We have faith in you."

Jonouchi nodded. Seto didn't respond outwardly. He also thought Atem would succeed. Not because of faith, but because Atem always succeeded. They reached the van.

Seto looked at the driver. "Any problems?"

"No, sir."

"Then let's go."

He sat up front with the driver in silence while the other three sat in the back and talked about cards. Seto didn't see the point,. He could cancel their mock tournament as soon as Atem sent the dead to their rest, but he supposed they were running on autopilot. Seto watched them in the rear-view mirror. Two guards sat back with them, but the guards stayed silent with their hands on their rifles. Seto's sharp blue eyes studied Atem's reflection. The anti-inflammatory Ishizu gave him brought the swelling down in his mouth and jaw. Besides the cuts and bruises, Atem was his handsome self once again, not that a bruise could truly diminish the austere appeal of his features.

The squeal of slipping tires and a crash brought Seto's attention back to the front of the van. The vehicle stopped. Rain ran thickly down the windshield; the silhouette of a corpse sprawled out against the glass. A small crack snaked across the windshield in front of Seto. Blood, thick and near-black oozed down the glass. At least the impact damaged the creature's skull.

"Is everything okay?" Atem asked from the back of the van.

"Yes," Seto answered, turning to the driver. "Be more careful. Unless you want to walk the rest of the way back in the rain."

"Yes sir," the man said without hesitation, although Seto noticed his hands shook on the wheel.

Seto regretted forcing Mokuba to stay at the mansion. His younger brother was wild, but reliable. They couldn't shake the corpse off of the windshield, so they had to suffer the obtrusion and drive slower than before to compensate for their reduced vision.

As much as Seto wanted to be home, he winced when everyone started cheering. Anzu asked one thousand questions – mostly about Atem's face - Mai berated Jonouchi for being late, the baby cried, and everyone asked to see the wretched book in Yugi's knapsack. Their prattle dropped dead on their lips when the Tome came out into the light. Seto despised the damn thing; it reminded him of his adopted father somehow. He held his breath until Yugi hid the book again and handed the bag to Atem.

"Mokuba," Seto said.

"What's up, bro?"

Seto reached into his wet shirt pocket and pulled out a set of keys, tossing them to his younger brother. "Leave the back shelf alone. Raid anything else."

Mokuba's eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"

"We're ahead of schedule now. I'll leave you in charge of assessing morale." With that said, Seto went to take a shower and find dry clothes.

"What are the keys for?" Honda asked.

Mokuba grinned, jingling the keys to draw everyone's attention to him. "These!" he cheered, "are the keys to the liquor cabinet. And, in tradition of Kaiba Corp maintaining superior quality, our 'liquor cabinet' is a three leveled catacomb-style wine cellar. I've never even seen the third level. I'm sure there's a cask of amontillado down there, but if I so much as looked for it before tonight, my brother would have walled me up in the dark to never have been seen again. But tonight – tonight my friends – my gracious brother has given me free reign of almost all his treasures."

"Oh fuck yes." Mai all but moaned at the thought, and Mokuba couldn't help but appreciate the way her cleavage all but burst from her top as she jumped up in celebration.

Anzu chuckled. "See? Even Seto's happy." She rested a hand on her still-flat belly. "Too bad I can't celebrate with everyone."

"That's okay." Shizuka smiled, rocking the baby. "I can't either while I breastfeed."

Yugi frowned. "I won't drink either, Anzu."

"Yugi," Jonouchi and Honda both hissed at the same time.

Shizuka sighed at their boyishness, but Anzu laughed harder. "It's okay, Yugi. It won't be a very good evening if Mai, Jonouchi, and Mokuba have to drink by themselves. You go ahead. That way Honda can drink, too and it can be a decent party."

"I'll have some sparkling water brought to you both in champagne glasses, how 'bout that?" Mokuba asked.

Anzu winked at him. "You grew up to be a classy kid, Mokuba."

"Part of the job." He grabbed Atem's wrist and dragged him out of the room. "C'mon. You can help me carry everything."

"I need to get to my room and see if I can find which spell Kamenwati used to raise the dead."

They were down the hall by that point, feet shuffling across thick, bone and jade colored cashmere rugs. Mokuba snorted. "Yes, I know you're eager to get back to my brother's room, but this will only take a minute."

Atem cleared his throat, visibly distressed by Mokuba's comment.

"Oh stop it. Everyone knows, even Jonouchi figured that one out and you know how dense he is. Nobody cares. This isn't ancient Egypt."

"Modern Japan wasn't much more progressive if my memory serves me correctly."

"Well, fuck it. This is the Kaiba mansion where nobody gives a shit." He sighed. "Honestly, I'm glad you're back. Seto sitting in a dark office like some Gothic poet and being in love with a ghost wasn't healthy for him at all, and I was getting worried about him long before zombies started eating people."

"Kisara isn't a ghost, Mokuba. She's in Aaru."

Mokuba waved Atem's explanation away. They stopped in front of two huge, white oak doors. "Ah! The moment of truth."

He used the first key to open the doors, stepping inside with Atem beside him. The first level was a standard wine cellar. Cedar racks lined the walls, dark colored bottles each tucked into their own cubby with cream and white labels showing. To their right, casks of aged oak sat in groups, basic white oak, Slovenian oak, Hungarian oak, each labeled by the forests the various woods came from and the types of wines themselves. Mokuba walked past it all with hardly a glance. Everything on the racks and in the casks were business wines, polite drinks for settling minor business deals, nothing worth a celebration.

They walked to the back of the room where a set of stairs descended deeper into the floor. Before them, shelf after shelf lay burdened with bottles. Tall and squat bottles, smooth round bottles, sharp cut square bottles, opaque brown, translucent green, or transparent clear glass bottles, bottles with gold foil pressed into the labels, and bottles with tassels tied around their neck, the cellar was an apothecary shop pulled from a fantasy novel and made real.

"Impressive." Atem grinned as he scanned the collection.

Light fixtures on the walls provided soft, ambient light around the room and the various glass glinted from the light. Not a speck of dust tarnished the glass or the shelves on which they rested.

Mokuba shrugged. "This is the shit you can find in a liquor store. We're headed lower."

At the bottom of the second stairwell stood another door. Mokuba used the second key on the ring to open the single door and let himself and Atem inside.

"It's small," Atem said.

Mokuba displayed his hands in a helpless gesture. "Quality over quantity. Come here."

They walked a few meters to the back of the quaint room.

Atem wagged a finger at Mokuba. "I'm pretty sure I heard Seto telling you to leave the back shelf alone."

Mokuba nodded. "Most of the bottles on this shelf are the last of their kind. I could crash three Porsches and Seto would forgive me, but he'd cut off my hand if I ever messed with his personal collection. Back when the world was every-day the value of these went beyond currency and into pure status." He grinned, gesturing to the shelf as if offering it to Atem. "Pick something."

"I'd rather not have Seto chop off my hands. I use those for card games."

"He'd chop off my hand. He'll indulge you."

"Not sure I'm brave enough to test that theory, Mokuba."

"It has to be drunk sooner or later. Otherwise, my brother will have the the world's most impressive vinegar collection." Mokuba nudged Atem's shoulder with his own elbow. "Take a look. I'm off to raid the vodka."

The bottles did look tempting. He couldn't read a single label, either because age faded the labels beyond use, or because the characters printed on them were from countries Atem never knew existed when he lived in Egypt.

A solid, black bottle caught his eye. The only thing that remained from the label was the suggestion of a square on the glass. A strange, wax seal kept the cork protected from the elements and from allowing air to ruin the quality of the drink. Atem picked it up, watching the way the lights played off of the hand-blown glass.

"Oh good, you found something," Mokuba said.

Atem turned to look at Seto's little brother. He looked messy as always with his shirt untucked and no tie. His unruly hair being pulled back didn't stop loose strands from falling into his eyes. The boy, truly a man, but Atem had trouble not picturing the little Mokuba he knew ten years ago, looked sheepish with two bottles of clear vodka and a golden bottle of something else with a damaged label.

"I wasn't going to take it," Atem murmured.

"Yes you are."

With that, the conversation ended and Atem found himself carrying the bottle back up the stairs with him. He and Mokuba parted ways, Mokuba singing some now-old Rica Masumoto song that was popular back when Atem shared Yugi's body.

Atem stopped by the kitchen for a pail of ice, and by the time he returned to his room, Seto had converted their bed into a desk, papers scattered across both sides. Seto didn't look up from his work, but he did address Atem. "Get out of those wet clothes before you get sick."

"Yes, dear," Atem said, his tone mocking his words.

"So what do you have in your hand?"

"Why don't you look up from all your paperwork and see for yourself?"

The sharp blue of Seto's eyes flicked up at Atem for a brief, whip-crack moment before going back to his paperwork. "It was a rhetorical question."

Atem set the ice-bucket down on the nightstand. He fluffed his hair in his reflection of the dark bottle before asking. "Am I in trouble for taking it?"

A wry grin slipped across Seto's lips. "Would you like to be?"

"Perhaps." He unbuttoned his shirt. "But first a hot shower. I'm sore."

"I imagine."

Atem smirked. "It was almost worth it. To see you look so concerned."

"Didn't I tell you to change out of those wet clothes?"

"Oh yes, I do believe I remember you demanding that I strip naked. It's a bad habit of yours."

Atem went to shower before he and Seto wasted another half hour bantering. The hot water stung his lip and jaw, but if felt miraculous. Atem dried himself and dressed in a bathrobe before returning to their bed. He noticed that Seto cleared away the paper work – at least enough for Atem to have his own side of the bed.

"You know you're a fool." Seto shook his head. "You didn't bring a corkscrew or glasses."

Atem set Yugi's backpack onto his lap, staring at the denim. He reached for the drawstring to open the bag and realized his hands shook.

"I hate it as well," Seto confessed, his tone neutral. He stood up, grabbing the wine and examining it. "Good choice."

"I liked the bottle," Atem confessed as he fumbled to pull the book from the backpack. Atem heard the pop of a wine cork. He looked up, and Seto stood pouring two glasses. "Where did you get the glasses?"

"The kitchen." Seto handed Atem the stem of one of the two glasses.

Atem held the glass absently in his right hand as his left hand brushed against the Eye of Ra on the book's cover. Remembering the burn of that power searing on his own forehead, Atem closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and downed the wine like it was a shot of whiskey. He pushed the glass towards Seto; it shook in his fingers. "I know that was a waste," he muttered.

Seto blinked at the empty glass, pulling it from Atem's fingers, setting it off to the side, and holding Atem's trembling hand. "It was only priceless."

"I'm sorry. I know everything from that collection is precious to you, but my nerves are shot."

Seto smiled, running long, slender fingers through his shag of brown hair. "You're not as hopeless as you used to be. There was a time you'd feel entitled to the wine, and entitled to drink it as you please, without so much as a second thought."

Atem raised an eyebrow. His hands felt a little more steady with the warm, smooth drink in his stomach. "Well, you never smiled before. Not like you do now."

Seto blinked his ice-blue eyes, as if he hadn't realized the expression on his own face. He snorted, taking his own glass and tilting the liquid in the glass so that he and Atem could both admire the deep, near black color of the red-violet liquid. "It's not like when we were in Egypt and wine was drank with every meal. You don't drink a wine like this – you experience it."

He swirled the dense liquid in his glass, holding the rim below Atem's nose. "Inhale."

A faint, electric rush always coursed through Atem's system when Seto gave him simple commands, and he obeyed. It wasn't always easy, being the embodiment of a god to the people he ruled, being the embodiment of a hero to his friends, only in Seto – who revered neither gods nor heroes – had Atem ever found a real equal.

Seto pulled the glass away so he could also enjoy the rich scent. He offered the glass to Atem once more. "Sip."

Atem opened his mouth, taking a taste from the glass and rolling the liquid over his entire tongue. The faintest, tart hint of cherries lingered in his mouth.

Seto drank as well. "Younger, the cherry note would have been more pronounced," he explained while giving Atem another chance at the glass. "Now slurp it into your mouth."

This time Atem paused. He eyed Seto with a suspicious frown, as if the former C.E.O. was trying to trick Atem into being foolish somehow.

Seto only grinned. "Like this." Seto demonstrated. Atem expected a loud slurping sound, but Seto did no such thing. "The oak cask adds a touch of vanilla flavor, but you need bring air into your mouth with the wine to fully enjoy it."

Atem copied Seto and took another drink. He wasn't sure he tasted anything different, but his hands didn't shake anymore as they held the book, so he was thankful for the lesson nonetheless. With a sigh, Atem opened the book. The symbols written in rusty, red-brown ink resembled hieratic, but he didn't recognize a single character.

Atem trailed along the lines of writing. Similar to when he saw the scars on Marik's back, Atem felt an impression of the spells rather than a translation. It wasn't enough to decipher them, but what he did sense caused tears to roll down his tanned cheeks. "Everything in the book . . . is horrible. Gods, Seto, it's so horrible. How did Aknadin ever think good would come from anything in here?"

Seto shook his head. He looked aged in that moment, crows feet sketched in the corners of his eyes and frown lines burdening his mouth.

Atem swallowed, flipping through page after page. Each one brought dread, terror, despair . . . above all else it brought despair, but it also brought a deep, unwanted, quivering lust for more. Then he understood the danger in even translating the book. Each new line his fingers grazed made him want to hurt a little deeper inside. Like a depression he couldn't shake, and he drowned in thoughts he knew couldn't be true, or him, but they lingered in his mind all the same, caressing, holding, strangling.

And, for a disgusting moment, he thought perhaps he could harness it, control it. He was god, was he not? Osiris made flesh and resurrected from the dead to rule as a king even among gods. Perhaps, with the right spell, if he just kept searching, he'd find a way to translate the book, and with the right spell he could—

Atem's thoughts broke when Seto kissed him – Seto who didn't reverie or even concern himself with gods. Whatever dark spell whispered around the edges of Atem's thoughts broke and broke hard, leaving Atem a shaking, powerless, mortal.

"You started crying," Seto whispered. "Not only tears, but actual sobs, like you were in pain."

"I can't do this."

Seto held both sides of Atem's face. The sharp blue of his eyes more piercing than Atem could remember. Seto tilted Atem's face up. "Yes you can. You were brought back to do this."

"I'm not . . . I'm not strong enough. This book will consume me."

Seto swung himself on top of Atem, straddling him. "Then you go walk into the game room right now where everyone is celebrating and tell them that right now."

Atem slammed the book shut glaring at Seto. "You know I'd never do that. You know Yugi would take the book and try himself – even if it destroyed his soul."

"Yes. I'm aware."

"Dammit, Seto." Atem smacked the book back open, but this time he was determined. He still felt the influence of the damned book clawing at his mind and at his throat, but it didn't enthrall him.

After a few minutes Atem felt Seto's hand brush tears off of his cheek.

"Was I crying again?"

Seto shrugged, still nestled over Atem's body. "Tears, but no sobs."

Atem's plum eyes flicked down to the symbols written in the Tome, then back up to Seto's living, blazing eyes. "Seto, if I get lost, will you—"

Seto interrupted with another kiss. "Drag your ass back to reality? I'm sure I could manage."

***LOL - I don't even like this ship.***