Guys, I really have to apologise. It's been AGES since I updated. But here at last is the next chapter, which I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 25 - Artistry

Joey smiled dimly at the bandage on his ankle. Sure, another injury was the last thing he had needed, but in some way or another it had helped him, and now he knew how Kaiba felt. Speaking of the dark haired teen…

"How are things coming along?"

Seto strolled into the room as Joey walked slowly between narrow parallel railings. He had a distinct limp on his twisted ankle, but it had had a few days to heal now, and even Olivia, who had to be quite frank been thoroughly livid at just about anyone she could find that Joey had been attempting to walk with a single crutch, let alone that he was showering without assistance, was starting to calm down.

"It's alright really." Said the golden haired teen, face lined with concentration as he attempted to walk unaided. "Not quite the parallel bars I'm used to."

"No I guess not." Seto smirked, and Joey smiled in response before doing a complete double take and shooting him a look that screamed: "How in the hell-!"

"I saw you once." Seto said, interrupting Joey's thoughts before they were even fully formed, he wandered over and placed a hand absent-mindedly on the bar next to Joey's. "At school, the high bar."

Joey's eyes lit up for a second, and then fell as the agony rose in his chest. His face crumpled into anguish and he looked away.

Seto leant around to try and look into Joey's eyes, but the blonde had turned too far. He moved his hands, one on Joey's and the other now on his shoulder. "You were beautiful." Joey's eyes jumped open and he looked around into the tender azure eyes. "You still are."

For a moment Joey opened his mouth and was about to say something, but it all seemed so long ago now and maybe it wasn't a great idea to start spouting off about dreams you had while in a coma, and so he just stopped, and looked.

Kaiba smiled, and…was that a blush? Joey moved closer, planning to inspect the offending cheeks but then finding himself closer than he had intended as they moved towards completing what they had started a few days ago and never finished. This was it. He was going to kiss him…Seto Kaiba…Shit…Getting closer…I…

"Bloody hell Joey I leave you alone for two minutes and this is what I come back to find?"

The boys sprung apart, faces bright red and eyes darting over to

"Good morning Olivia." Said Kaiba, somewhat more gruffly than usual.

"Seto." Said the brunette, dumping her papers on a table and looking more than a little amused. "Joey I thought I told you to get on with your exercises." She feigned a stern look. Joey laughed in response, tension lost in embarrassment, but Seto, still beet red turned and strode out of the room. Olivia sniggered a little at his retreating form. "Oh dear. I think I upset him." Joey laughed still more at this, and Olivia made her way to his side. She then said something that made him roar. "Honestly, sometimes that boy has such a stick up his butt."

Joey creased up in laughter, and began to lose control in his legs a little. Olivia steadied him and he calmed down. "Sorry if we…I dunno…"

"Joey I am quite aware how Seto feels about you, and I'm almost certain you have similar feelings." She smiled up at him as she felt his leg muscles. "Your instability comes from the fact that your calf muscles have wasted more than your thighs, so we'll have to work on those."

"I know," said Joey, letting himself be led to a chair, "and I do, but some people…you know…wouldn't think it was right."

That was enough to snap Olivia right out of medical mode. She stared at him sharply. "Don't you ever listen to anyone who tells you that. There's enough hatred and pain in this world without us listening to those who want to stop people who can love each other and be happy." She took a deep breath. "Some people try to find any excuse to keep people apart, because they are selfish." She paused. "I met my husband, Paul, when I was sixteen and he was eighteen. I loved him, but my parents did everything they could to try and stop us from seeing each other, because they thought it would hurt my grades, and they'd be damned if their daughter didn't get the highest grades in the school. For some people it's all about how it makes Them look."

Joey put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. As their eyes met he felt a pang of guilt and looked away. "I'm sorry Olivia."

Olivia frowned. "What for?"

Joey ran a hand through his hair, "I misjudged you. Kaiba was right. I thought…I don't know what I thought, but I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Olivia patted his shoulder as she stood up. "Never mind eh? Let's just get you working on those calf muscles."

xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx

I've just received a memo from the office. It seems that someone has been snooping around in our files. It's probably just another reporter, but I ought to check it out.

I still can't believe I admitted all that…stuff to him. I trust him I guess, but was I really ready? Revealing myself to him like that means dealing with how I feel. It means a response. He could still reject me. It's seems unlikely given the way he's been around me, but it's still possible. That and he still insists on calling me by the name I got from my bastard adoptive father.

At least I'm busy. Busy means less time to think. I have to get rid of those press once and for all and I'm hoping I will soon find a way to do it. In the meantime I have to arrange a new consignment of graphics cards to Hatoshi, that little backwater gaming corporation that somehow seems to have doubled its stocks in a year. At least they're not in competition, or then I'd have no choice but to crush them.

Joey is doing well, and his hair is growing back so quickly you can't even see the scars if you look now. He's not strong, but Olivia says he'll be walking unaided within a week, depending on the ankle. Every time I see him, it's like I've forgotten how bright his smile is, or how perfect his features are, and I get to feel the first look all over again. Screw the fears of rejection, I can do this.

I'm going to give it a shot. As soon as he's done with his exercises I'll talk to him. That gives me…half an hour. I wonder if Alexander is free.

o o o o o o o o o o o

When Joey had finished exercising for the morning, Olivia had decided that it was high time he had more artist's supplies. She had informed Seto, who had given her some money for the purpose as he made his way into the Physio suite.

She had the limo drop her off in the high street and asked it to return in an hour. She was looking for a little shop on a side-street that she had found when looking for Joey's pencils a few weeks earlier. Today she was wearing a crisp pair of linen trousers and a white shirt with a strappy top underneath. As she ambled along in the sunshine she let down her hair, leaving it to swing over her shoulders. She was happy. Seto and Joey were becoming closer, Paul was showing some signs of a minor improvement, his appetite was coming back. Even though she knew it was only temporary, it gave her joy. As the sun caressed the skin of her exposed forearms she wandered into the cool little side-street and found the boutique she was looking for.

The door chimed happily with a bell, a tinkling sound that made her smile. She stood for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the slight dimness of the shop. A little man ambled out from the side.

"Good afternoon Miss. How may I-! Ah! You're the young lady who came in looking for materials for Master Joey!" He exclaimed, face breaking into a warm smile as he clapped his hands together.

Olivia blushed happily at being remembered. When she had come in before she had been utterly lost until the man had approached her and asked if he could help. She had had a list, but no clue as to where to look. The man had only taken one look at the paper to instantly know who it was for. Joey was a regular customer and apparently had the odd habit of always buying one of each of the different makes of four B pencil. He said that they had different qualities.

"Thank you for remembering. I'm here for him again as a matter of fact. I was hoping to get your advice on how to get Joey into painting."

"Painting? Oh an excellent idea! I myself have been trying to get Master Joey into painting for years. Has he chosen a medium?"

"A what? Uh…oh! No, it's meant to be a surprise for him."

"A truly marvellous idea! I think I have just the thing." The little man bustled off into another room, beckoning to Olivia to follow him. As she left the room she heard the sound of the bell indicating that the door had opened and turned her head to see, but the entrance was obscured from view by a shelf. The shopkeeper lead her over to a stand.

"Here you can see what I would suggest. Water-soluble colour pencils. They work excellently as crayons but add a small amount of water and you have a watercolour. A truly capital invention! I…Oh." He frowned as the noise of a trilling phone caught their ears. "I'm afraid I simply must go and get that. Would you excuse me?"

Olivia smiled and the little man tottered off out of the room. Finding herself alone she returned to the stand and looked over the examples. Yes it all seemed really perfect, but what colours to pick and what books? She was leafing through a seemingly useless guide to shading when she heard a small gasp, followed by a chuckle. She turned.

"Well, I never expected to find you here of all places. Medical practitioners aren't exactly renowned for their love of the arts."

"Oh hello. It's Matthew isn't it."

She extended a hand, and Matthew Alexander, taking it in both of his with, (Was that a blush?), a tender firmness, shook it warmly.

"You remembered! Well now what brings you to a place like this Olivia?"

Olivia glanced around to show how lost she felt. "I'm not here for myself at all. I am buying art supplies for a patient of mine. I want to get him into painting. He's an excellent…oh what is the word? He's very good at drawing."

"A draftsman?"

"Yes. That's it precisely."

"Well you're in luck. I happen to know a thing or two about paints." He moved around her to look at the stand. "What age is the patient?"

"He's seventeen."

"Well then I suppose he better really be thinking about making a proper step into the proper stuff. I somehow don't think watercolours are really a young man's medium." He took a step away from the pencils the shopkeeper had been suggesting and made a move towards the oils.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he's a strong personality?"

"Yes."

"He has passion…spirit?"

"Undoubtedly so."

"He works manually?"

"Well…yes."

"Well then he wants a medium that he can get his hands into, a physical medium. Drawing is all about bold movements, the difference of pencil stroke between types of shading. Watercolours would be beneath him. He wouldn't want to be sitting so still."

Olivia nodded. "Yes of course, you're right."

Matthew, leant over into a stand eagerly, looked back over his shoulder. "How much do you have to spend?"

Olivia paled at the thought of the roll of cash Seto had thrust into her purse. "Enough."

"Enough to really kit him out?"

"Well yes."

"Do you have transport?"

"Well I can arrange…"

"No problem, I could drive you back myself actually." He flushed. "Well, only if that is alright with you."

"Oh of course! Thank you."

"Wonderful." Matthew smiled genuinely, and buried himself in the shelf again. "First and foremost, you'll need this."

Olivia found herself clutching a bottle of yellow oil.

"Linseed oil, for keeping the paint workable. Then a large amount of white, and black." He selected two tubes. "A blue, a yellow, a red, a verdant green, a good basic flesh tone, a brown. That should do for paints."

Olivia, arms full of tubes and pots, followed Matthew over to a stand full of brushes. She quickly developed a rather large stack of these cradled in her left elbow. This was soon followed by a palette knife, a palette and a bottle of turps. Matthew was just turning round to hand her the first canvas when he realised that she was on the verge of a rather comedic tumble, and stopped. He stared at her, as she wobbled in an attempt to balance her load, and had to try very hard in order to maintain a straight face.

"Do you need a hand?"

"Erm…if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

They took their load to the counter, and returned to the stands with the shopkeeper.

"Now Mr…Benson. What have you got in the way of easels?"

A series of easels were produced but, in the end, Olivia couldn't help but choose the nicest one, made of polished wood, that stood at about 7ft tall when fully extended. She and Matthew picked a series of canvas that ranged in size from smaller than the palm of her hand to that of a life size portrait, and then she took the rather dazed looking shopkeeper to the till and handed over more cash than he had ever seen in his life, while Matthew fetched his car. Once they had loaded the supplies into his open topped sports car they paused. Matthew looked over at a little coffee shop.

"Have you got fifteen minutes?"

"Oh no I mustn't."

"Oh come on. I've just helped you spend a horrendous amount of money. The least I can do is buy you a drink."

They sat in the dim little coffee shop drinking iced coffees. Matthew leant coolly back into his chair while Olivia sat forward with her elbows on the table.

"So where on earth did you learn so much about paint?"

Matthew frowned a little at the question, and stared into his glass. As the pause became more than a minute Olivia felt she must have offended him, and was about to apologise when he interrupted her.

"My sister painted." He said simply.

Past tense. The past tense struck her physically, winding her somehow. "When did she…?" She regretted asking the moment she had as he winced under her gaze. He drew a ragged breath, took a swig of his coffee and said

"I last saw her when we were sixteen. She fainted at dinner. She was taken to her room. A doctor came, and then left, and I wasn't allowed to see her. Two weeks later my parents put me on a plane from Cairo and I ended up in England where I went to boarding school, and then University in London. I haven't had contact with my parents since I left."

Olivia was stunned. "I'm sorry. I'm so…sorry."

Matthew shot her an almost angry look, but on seeing the worry in her face he softened somewhat. "Thank you…My sister…Faith, she was a painter. Her painting, she did watercolours, was always very ethereal, abstract, angels and lightness and pale colourings. She talked a lot about people's mediums being a matter of their soul, and what their soul wanted from their art. Since she…she…since I lost her, I've read a lot about it, looked at paintings, tried to see what she meant. I never understood her at the time. I think I do now." He closed his eyes a little, breathing softly. Olivia put a hand on his own and his eyes shot open, staring down at the touch as if it was utterly alien to him. He looked up at her, blushed deeply and pulled his hand away. He drained his glass, and stuttered slightly, "Sh…shall we go?"

The drive back was bright and warm, and Olivia laughed at how silly her hair must look blowing about in the breeze. She tried desperately to get it out of her eyes so that she could direct Matthew to the mansion but luckily he seemed to have a pretty good idea of where he was going. The gates swung open for them as the cameras recognised her, and the swarm of paparazzi parted around them like the Red Sea. They pulled up in the driveway, and a few servants came to help Olivia, and her copious shopping into the house. Olivia turned to Matthew.

"You're more than welcome to come in, I'm sure Jo-!…my patient could use a few tips."

Matthew smiled. "I'd love to…" He glanced a nervous look back at the crowd behind the gates. "You certainly seem to be popular."

Olivia's face fell. "Yes, I guess you could do without being all over the papers. I forget. I guess I'm used to it."

She waved brightly at him as he drove down the gravel driveway. It was nice for her to have someone, someone outside of work, and home. Someone who was outside the issues that she could talk to. She was glad she had him and…

"Matthew!" She shouted, and the car halted abruptly. "Wait. You haven't got my number!"

Numbers exchanged, Matthew drove away with a satisfied smirk on his features. As the crowd closed up behind him he couldn't help but take one last glance in his rear-view mirror, watching her turn and enter the house. She had given him her number, she trusted him, and he had her exactly where he wanted her. She'd essentially given away the name of her patient, not to mention her employer, whose name was emblazoned on the gates in letters over a foot tall. She was just dying to pour her heart out to him, and once she shared all that, he knew that it would be almost impossible for her to resist him. Yes, she was utterly seduced.

And yet…and yet…there was something about her. Her joy, the way her hair blew about and her laughter in the bright sunshine, it had made him smile too. Somehow he had ended up letting her know a great deal more about himself than he had ever intended. More than he had ever told anyone. He was the impersonal, you exposed yourself to him and it was never the other way around. It made him angry that he could have been so weak. She was captivating. He had said so before, but had he really been aware of how truly captivated he was?

No matter. He had a greater purpose. He had a reason, and his pathetic feelings were utterly outside of that sphere.

I don't own Yugioh. I wish I did. I'd love to hear from you guys. It's your enthusiasm for this that helps spur me on. Please Review!