Phantom: Hey everyone! Hot-diggity, it sure has been a while. I promise you I am still very much alive and well (sort of) given the current climate of the world we find ourselves in. I hope you are all keeping safe and staying home!

Without further ado, here with are with THE. LAST. CHAPTER. of La Danse Fatale! Can you believe it? I'm still kind of in awe/denial/shock/suspicion of it all. I first started writing this story in September 2010—almost a DECADE ago! There were times when I got so stuck with writing parts of this story, that I wanted to give up altogether. The epic duel battle in Ancient Egypt using Anubis as Marik's ka was an idea that I had come up with a long time before I actually wrote it, but let me tell you-I was dreading writing it! Writing action scenes is simply not my forte, but perseverance paid off in the end.

On that note, I really hope this last chapter doesn't disappoint—I really want ya'll to ultimately be satisfied with the grand finale. This story unintentionally turned from Marik x OC into a Marik x OC x Ryou x Bakura story, haha, so I have tried to make the focus of this last chapter on their respective relationships, with each other.

As always—leave a review (either good or bad, I'm not fazed by much these days XD), let me know your final thoughts, and I'll see you next chapter for the epilogue!

WARNING: SMUT follows (you didn't really think I'd finish this story without getting in one last lemon…did you?)

La Danse Fatale

Chapter 31

xXx

"Geeze you two, what gives?" Ryou griped. "We're about ready to leave without you!"

"Gomen ne, Ry." Sable apologised sheepishly, approaching him hand-in-hand with Malik. "We let the time get away on us."

Perhaps they really were going to give things another try, Ryou thought, still recovering from the sharp stab of jealousy that nearly made him bite his tongue.

Malik had been his, first.

And Sable had been Bakura's, first—albeit in another life.

Somehow, it just didn't seem fair…

And yet, Ryou loved Sable like a sister. It was almost as if she had become a stand-in for Amane, his little sister who never got the chance to grow up. If he loved her like his own family, how could he possibly be mad at her? Or Malik, for that matter. To see him looking so exultant and smiling out of genuine happiness again—for the first time in years—was something Ryou never thought he'd see, again, and it made his heart split open. After such a horrific start to life, Malik was one of the few people he knew who deserved real happiness—it was just not destined to be with him.

Ryou suddenly heard the engine of the supercar behind him purr into life. He sensed Bakura's impatience—and likely resentment—in seeing Malik and Sable looking so loved-up again, all of a sudden. Ryou wished there was a way he could let Bakura know that he sympathised with him, now that their mind-link was non-existent. Suddenly, he needed that beer more than ever, and he figured Bakura was likely impatient to quench his thirst, too; alcohol being the cure-all for celebrations and sorrows, alike.

"Come on, then. Time to go and get merry, innit?" Ryou ruled, cheerily disguising how he felt on the inside.

Now that they had accomplished what they set out to do, Sable thought, that left the question of where to go from here. The future was always uncertain, no matter how much one planned, but there was one thing Ryou and Sable could both be certain of: Bakura and Malik no longer walked in the darkness of their pasts, but in the light, of their futures.

xXx

A few days later, Malik and I were happy with the distraction of playing 'tour guide', taking Ryou and Bakura to all the usual tourist hotspots around Egypt. It was decided that we would spend another few days in Luxor, before driving back to Cairo via Abu Simbel, the Island of Philae, and the Temple of Hathor, among many other famous ancient sites. Finally, after almost two weeks away, we made our way back to Cairo, arriving under the cover of nightfall, so as to be as discreet of Malik's whereabouts, as possible.

Happily, everybody seemed pleased with the idea of ringing in the New Year by celebrating in a very low-key manner. Isis and Rishid, and Rishid's family, all came over to Malik's place to celebrate, bringing with them some of their favourite home-made Egyptian dishes, including koshary and umm ali. Though wary at first, Isis and Rishid soon got used to being in the company of Bakura once again, and a pleasant time was had by all, as we celebrated not only the New Year, but the final banishment of Malik's dark alter ego.

Tales of our epic adventure back to ancient times were recounted, and drew on long into the night. Malik's siblings and niece and nephew listened with rapt attention, until they were so tired, they could hardly keep their eyes open. Malik—needing more rest than any of us—turned in just after midnight. I made sure he was comfortable in bed, before coming back downstairs to see off Isis, Rishid and the kids. Ryou, Bakura and I all finished the last of what we had been drinking, and then called it a night.

The next morning dawned cool and clear, and I woke not long after dawn. Malik was still sleeping peacefully, and I realised that this was the first time in months that he had slept all night, without awakening in a cold sweat from haunting dreams, or nightmarish flashbacks, since the accident. I smiled softly and resisted the urge to kiss him, so as not to disturb him.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and put on my bikini, making my way downstairs for a morning swim. When I arrived into the living room, I was surprised to see that I was not the first one awake.

"Hey," I whispered, tip-toeing quietly into the lounge. "Akemashite omedetou!"

Ryou looked up at me over his glasses, dropping the book he had been reading into his lap. "Oh, ohayou. Happy New Year!"

I plopped down next to him and gave him a big cuddle. He returned it in kind. "You're up early."

"You know I'm an early riser."

"Mm, yeah, you are." I reflected. "Bakura still asleep?"

"Mmhmm. Malik, too?"

"Like a log. Want some coffee?" I asked, as Nailah came and pushed her wet nose into my hand.

"Tea, please."

After making us some drinks, Ryou and I went and sat down by the pool on some loungers. Nailah seemed to be content staying by my side, chewing on a dog treat. The cool desert air felt refreshing against my skin, as the first taste of caffeine of the year hit my tongue. I glanced over at Ryou, who appeared thoughtful. Usually, our silences were comfortable, but this morning, something was off.

"What's wrong?" I hedged, sensing the discord.

He looked momentarily thrown. "Oh…n-nothing, really. I've just been thinking about things, a bit."

"What kind of things?"

He was quiet for so long, I wondered if he had even heard me.

"Ry?"

"Have you decided…if you're going to give Malik another chance?" he queried apprehensively. "Because, if you do…I don't know if we can still be friends, Sable."

I was so shocked by this admission that I almost dropped my coffee. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He suddenly looked ashamed. "What I mean is, if you decide to get back together, then…I think I will need time away, from both of you, to set my head straight."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Ryou, you are my best friend. I know this situation between the four of us is mental, but you don't just get to decide whether we can be friends anymore, or not! And you can't make me choose between my relationship with Malik, and my friendship with you! That's not how it works!"

"You don't understand, Sable. I loved Malik before you!" he lashed out, tears springing to his own eyes. "I really did love him…part of me still does. It might have only seemed like a high school fling, but Malik was my first love…I proper fell for him. Feelings like that…they don't just go away."

I swallowed back my hurt, wiping the salty tears off my face. "Believe me, I know… When I broke up with him after he cheated on me, it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

Ryou politely cleared his throat. "Until you found a…distraction, shall we say."

I blushed, thinking back to my rendezvous of the fleshly kind, with Bakura. "Yeah, well…at least it wasn't completely in vain. I was his wife, once."

"Convenient how that worked out, isn't it?" Ryou snipped tartly.

"Oh come on, Ry. Jealousy is so unbecoming on you." I teased, using one of his own often-used lines back on him.

At that, he huffed. "Can you really blame me? You're in a relationship with the first person I ever truly loved. Not to mention my yami adores you, even if he doesn't act like it."

"No, I don't blame you. The way we feel can't always be helped." I replied earnestly. "If you could wave a magic wand, what would make it better?"

Ryou pondered on that for a moment. "Fulfilling my own selfish desires, I suppose. Truthfully, I would want to be back with Malik again, but that ship sailed a long time ago. Things are different, now."

I bit down on my lip, willing the tears to remain at bay. I would move heaven and earth for Ryou; I would have given him anything—anything but the one thing that he so desperately yearned for.

"Why didn't you ever say anything…?" I questioned, after a time of consideration. "When I first started seeing Malik, I didn't realise how much history you had with him. I had no idea you felt so deeply for him."

"I had no right to stop you from seeing him." Ryou replied, matter-of-factly. "I was surprised to find out that he was back in Domino, and it dredged up a lot of old memories…But still, you had every right to get involved with him, Sable. It wasn't my place."

"But, you still had feelings for him…"

He gave me a pointed look. "What good would it have done, if you'd known?"

"Well, I might have thought twice about getting involved with him, for a start!" I retorted. "It's 'girl code'."

Ryou snorted a sardonic laugh. "Men aren't quite so considerate, as I'm sure you know. Anyway, it was so long ago…your 'girl code' would probably have expired, anyway."

"It was only six years ago." I pointed out.

"Which is long enough that I should have gotten over him, by now." Ryou sighed in frustration. "I guess I just didn't expect you to end up with him. If it had been anyone else…" he trailed off, giving me a look that said it all.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, averting his gaze. "Malik is the first person I've truly ever loved, too, and I never even saw it coming."

"It's not your fault, Sable." Ryou reassured me. "And I know that in time, I will come to be happy for both of you. I just wished that things had turned out a little differently. In hindsight, it was just never meant to be, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept."

I put my head against his shoulder, as a long silence drew out between us. Even in times of strife, we could never stay mad at each other for long. Ryou was, in a way, like a comfort blanket—dependable, and always there to make me feel better when I needed him during life's highs and lows. I like to think he viewed me the same way.

"It must have been hard for you, when he first became famous." I said after a time, wondering in what manner their relationship eventually burnt out.

"I knew it was coming…and that what we had, probably wouldn't last." Ryou mused. "I didn't see him for nearly a year, and by then, he had met Yumi."

I flinched, thinking back to our trip to Tokyo when I had had the pleasure of meeting Malik's ex-girlfriend. "What did you think of her?"

"I never actually met her in person, but…I thought they seemed mismatched. There must have been something that Malik liked about her, though, I suppose. They dated for nearly three years."

"I guess," I murmured disdainfully. "I met her when we went to Tokyo. She's…really not the kind of person I thought Malik would go for. Then again, neither was Anzu."

"Maybe he just has terrible taste in women?" Ryou suggested airily.

I laughed and thumped his arm. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"In all seriousness, though—we live and learn, when it comes to relationships. It's time I got over Malik, once and for all…but to do that, I need time away from him. I hope you can understand."

"What about me?"

"Well, you're part of a package deal now, aren't you?"

"It's not like I'm not going to mutate into one, with him!" I reproved tartly. "We can hang out without him, you know."

"The two of you are the most important people in my life." Ryou said in mild irony. "But…I don't know how I'm supposed to keep acting like I'm not dying inside, every time I see you so happy, together."

"You're important to us too, Ry. So is Bakura, even though Malik will never admit it. He's played a huge role in all of our lives, especially yours." I said. "Don't you think things have kind of come full circle, now that we're back from the ancient world and Malik has finally been freed from Marik?"

"Yes," Ryou agreed, barely above a whisper. "I just…I'm afraid I'll never be able to love someone, the way I loved Malik. I'm afraid I'll never find that with anyone else, ever again."

I smiled assuredly at him. "Bakura loves you, Ryou."

He cast me a doubtful eye. "Not like that."

"Are you sure?"

"Bakura likes women, for a start." He rebuked. "And even if he did like men, why would he want me?"

"Because he knows you better than anyone. That night, when we…you know…I could tell that he cares for you. He wanted you to take pleasure in what we were doing, as much as he himself, did."

Blood pooled in Ryou's cheeks as he recalled that night. He had never taken part in such a wild sexual experience in all his days, and probably never would, again. Bakura was a kinky bastard—that much he knew—but he would not forget how eagerly his dark side had spurred him on, whilst he was in the throes of making love to Sable. Perhaps he had only been trying to get himself off—Bakura was an egocentric pervert, after all—but what if it was something more?

"You and Bakura have something special, Ryou." I reminded him. "And I know it probably sounds crazy, given how he's treated you in the past, and the fact that he and I were together, in our past lives, but…that was then, and this is now. He's his own person now; it's a game-changer."

"It's taking some getting used to, you know." Ryou said. "We've only just gotten past the stage of tolerating each other, never mind loving one another."

"Do you love him?"

"I think I worry about him, more than anything. I do love him, in a way…but I'm not in love with him, if that's what you're asking."

"Would you like to be?"

Ryou sighed. "I can't answer that, Sable. Bakura abused me for so long…thinking about him in a romantic sense…" he trailed off unable to put his thoughts into words. "I don't know what to think about him, right now. Things are so different, now he's…here. Physically, I mean."

"Not that I'm advocating for your abuser; I'm hardly one to talk," I coughed. "I just…I feel like it's something you could maybe explore in the future, if you wanted to."

"I don't think I'm cut out for relationships, Sable." He gave me a blunt look. "They've all ended in failure."

"All relationships end in failure, Ry…until they don't."

"I'm quite happy being single, you know." He glossed over my point airily. "Life is much less complicated, and you have no obligations to anybody. If I wanted to—I don't know— pour maple syrup all over myself and wank all day to midget porn on my balcony, then I could."

I coughed. "I think your neighbours might have something to say, about that."

He deadpanned. "You know what I mean."

I squeezed his hand. "I just want to see you happy, Ryou. Whether that means being single, or in a relationship, married or divorced, I just want to see you happy. You've got lots of love to give, and I know you want to receive it, too."

"Oh shut up, you're going to make me cry."

I giggled and ensconced him into a hug. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Ryou Bakura. You and I are soulmates!"

He rolled his eyes emphatically. "If only that were the truth."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sable…being a gay man in the closet is something you can't really understand, unless you've been through it, yourself. I've wished for most of my life that I was born heterosexual. I wished every morning that I'd wake up straight, and that being gay was actually all just a bad dream." Ryou admitted, to my shock. "And believe you me, if I was straight, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have wanted you to be my girlfriend."

A hard lump promptly lodged itself in my throat. "Seriously?"

He nodded solemnly. "We're perfect for each other in every other way…except the most fundamental."

My mouth wobbled. "Oh, Ry. I had no idea it was so hard, for you."

"The night that we…made love," he said, glancing up at me furtively. "I thought that maybe I could be attracted to women… Making love to you was something so beautiful, so very different to what I'd ever experienced before, with men. But, as much as I enjoyed it—and I really did—I can't deny my true self."

"I wouldn't want you to," I replied. "I've always loved you for who you are, not someone who you try to be. That wouldn't make you you, would it?"

"No," he sighed. "I suppose not."

"This is a cliché, but I'mma say it anyway," I said, poking him in the chest. "Maybe you need to work on yourself for a bit, before you start thinking about anyone else."

"Exactly. I'm a bit fucked up at the moment, so it's better for me if I distance myself, for a while. I need to step back and get some clarity."

"What about Bakura?"

He shrugged. "We still come as a package deal, at the moment. I've put up with him for most of my life, what's another year or two going to hurt?"

"Maybe you might start to…enjoy his company?" I suggested as unsubtly as possible.

"Oh hush, you." He smacked my thigh. "I'm starting to think those two have turned you into a bit of a strumpet!"

xXx

"Bakura,"

The ancient fiend paused from his task of packing his suitcase, turning to face the one who had spoken his name. He scowled when he saw who it was. "What?"

"I think we should talk." Malik replied, consciously softening the acrid tone of his voice.

Given their joint history with Ryou—and, more recently, Sable—Malik had come to accept that there would always be a bone of contention between them. Still, he had decided to try and talk it out with him, the day before they left, so they at least parted amicably. "We need to set things right between us, before you go."

Bakura straightened up. "What is there is to discuss?" he replied tersely. "She chose you. What more could you possibly want?"

"Look, Bakura…I know I'm not perfect. Far from it, even." Malik admitted. "We both know that Sable deserves better than either of us."

Bakura could hardly argue with that. He sighed in irritation and tossed the pair of jeans down that he was about to pack away. "Where are they?" he asked quietly, referring to Ryou and Sable.

"In the pool," Malik replied. "Let's go up to the rooftop. I'll bring some beers."

Before long, Bakura and Malik found themselves on the rooftop level of the house, but not without waving to the topic of their impending conversation first, who was lolling about on the surface of the pool. Bakura took a seat on a lounger, kicking his legs out and stacking his arms behind his head. Malik cracked open a couple of beers and handed him one. Out of sheer habit, if nothing else, they clinked bottles.

"Fe sahatek." Malik toasted, though to what, he wasn't entirely sure.

"Hmph." Bakura grunted, before taking a long, satisfying swig. "So then, what's your plan? Now that you've won over my wife's affections, and all." Patting down his front pocket for his cigarettes, he jimmied the box out, flicked it open and tapped one out.

"She's not your wife anymore." Malik quipped.

"She's still besotted with you, though," Bakura argued. "for reasons that continue to elude me."

There was silence for a moment before Malik responded. "Do you love her, Bakura? And for Ra's sake, be honest for once in your life."

Bakura took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling twin columns of smoke through his nose. "What do you think? She's the reincarnation of my wife! Of course I bloody love her."

Malik sighed, expecting as much. The revelation of Sable's past life just so turning out to be Bakura's former lover, made everything exponentially more problematic. Before their journey to the ancient past, there had been no real connection between them, barring Sable's friendship with Ryou, but the unearthing of this information now changed everything they thought they once knew.

"I know this is complicated, Bakura, but you have to realise that Sable isn't the same person now as she was, when she was Sahar." Malik contended, in the gentlest way possible. "The same way Ryou's not the same as you, and the way I'm not the same as Marik. I have no doubt that she'll always care about you, in some sense, but…"

"You don't have to pussyfoot around me, Ishtar." Bakura snapped. "I get it. You want to be with her, and she wants to be with you, so who am I to stand between you? I can't force her to love me back, can I?"

"You wouldn't have to." Malik grumbled, taking a swill. "If I hadn't survived the accident, she would be with you, right now, no question."

Bakura crunched his jaw tightly, recalling the cruel words he had spat at her along a similar vein, the night that Sable had told him she was leaving Japan.

"Tell me, if this mess hadn't happened – and everyone had walked away from the theatre that night, unharmed – would you be with me right now, or him?"

"That's hardly a fair question."

"Just answer it!"

As the words left his mouth, he wished there had been a way to take them back, but it had been too late. However, they had both known the underlying truth, which is why it had been such a bitter pill to swallow.

"Perhaps." Bakura shrugged, after a time of contemplation. "The Gods obviously had other things in mind."

Malik refrained from mentioning the very critical fact that Bakura was still so newly human; he had a long way to go before he could confidently get by in this modern age, and discover the human side of himself now that he was free from the binds of the Sennen Ring. That, coupled with the fact that he was both a mortal and supernatural being, did not guarantee a particularly secure future for Sable.

Not only that, Bakura had literally nothing to offer her in the way of financial security, but then again, Malik knew she didn't care for that. She had always taken pride in her independence; even in high school, she had procured an after-school job at a creperie. Malik knew that if he had happened to end up being a garbage truck driver, as opposed to a well-heeled pop-superstar, she would surely love him just as much.

"I know you think you have more to offer her," Bakura continued, as though he knew exactly the lines of Malik's thinking. "and perhaps you do. But what Sable needs more than anything, is emotional stability. I don't think either of us can offer her that. She's already lost most of her trust in you, Ishtar."

Malik physically winced. Then, he laughed sardonically as a thought struck him. "Well, it's not like we can go and talk to a therapist about what happened, is it? All I can do is try to earn her trust back, and hopefully, in time, I will."

"You do realise that if you fuck this up again, you won't get a third chance?"

Malik rolled his heliotrope eyes at him. "Of course I realise it, baka. Ever since I woke up from the coma, I've been absolutely terrified of losing her."

"So, I'll ask you again. What's your plan?"

"My plan for what?"

"Surely you can't be thinking about staying in this hellhole, for a start." Bakura grunted, referring to Egypt generally. "She's only here because of you."

"I know; she's incredibly homesick. We've already talked about coming back." Malik answered. "It's just a matter of when."

"A wise decision. But, just so you know," Bakura turned in his lounger to face Malik. "Sable is now as much a part of my life as she is yours, whether you like it or not. My history with her goes back much farther than yours. So don't go thinking you can keep her away from me. Are we clear?"

Malik shrugged nonchalantly. "If you want to make things harder for yourself, then be my guest. I couldn't stop her from seeing you, anyway. But I don't see how that's supposed to help you."

"Don't you go worrying your pretty little head about that." Bakura chuckled haughtily. "If you want my advice, just go back to doing what you do best—looking pretty and entertaining the masses. Perhaps let Sable decide what she wants to do with her life without being a possessive cheating psychopath, and all will be well."

Malik side-eyed him. "…why do you keep calling me 'pretty'?"

"Because you are," Bakura grimaced. "…as far as men go, anyway."

Malik gave him a crooked smile. "For what it's worth, you're not half-bad, yourself."

Bakura sneered at him in mild revulsion, before swigging back the last of his beer. "Charmed."

"In all seriousness," Malik said. "I owe you my gratitude, Bakura. It all worked out in the end, and I couldn't have done it without your help. Maybe we should do business more often."

"Oh yes, after it went so well last time."

Malik realised he was referring to the deal they had made during Battle City, that went famously pear-shaped. "Wouldn't you say that this has evened the score?"

"Honestly, Ishtar, I would be perfectly content if I never saw your face again." Bakura slated, pushing himself up off the lounger.

"The feeling's mutual."

"Good, something we can agree on." Bakura simpered, folding his arms. "How about—you take what's yours, I'll take what's mine, and we go our separate ways."

"Very well," Malik shrugged. "Although, I'm not sure what you're able to call 'yours', anymore."

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about."

Malik levelled his gaze. "Ryou isn't yours to take. He's not anyone's to take."

"Perhaps not, but I will not allow you to fuck with him any longer." Bakura hissed, jabbing a finger at him. "Do you know how long it took for him to start functioning normally again, after you left him? No, you wouldn't, because you were too busy fucking some blonde bimbo to care!"

"That's none of your business—!"

"Oh, it's all of my business, Ishtar. When I had to watch the other half of my soul fall helplessly in love with some lurid attention whore, it's my business. When I had to listen to his ceaseless sobbing day after day, night after night, it's my business. When I had to console him after he tried to hurt himself over you leaving him, it's my fucking business!"

Blood pulsed hotly in Malik's veins as he stood face to face with Bakura, in all his glorious, fiery wrath. This was the Bakura he remembered of old, from Battle City and even in the years beyond, when he had been driven mad with lust for the Millennium Items.

"Why do you care so much, now?" Malik questioned quietly. "When you never cared about him, before?"

"Ryou was and always will be mine." Bakura bit back. "We are light and dark, Yin and Yang, one half of the same whole; you couldn't possibly begin to comprehend how that feels, Malik. His heart is in mine, and mine is in his. The Millennium Ring's greatest gift of all to me, was him. Your experience with Marik was nothing like what we have—nothing!"

"What's going on up here?"

Malik, so rarely stuck for words, was relieved to say the least when Ryou and Sable appeared on the rooftop.

"Are you fighting?" Sable asked with an iffy expression.

"…yami?" Ryou queried, walking up beside him and touching his arm. "You're trembling."

"I'm fine." Bakura snapped, snatching his arm away and departing the group, without a backward glance.

"Bakura!" Ryou called, but he had gone.

"It's okay, Ryou." Malik assuaged. "We were just trying to bury the hatchet, that's all."

Sable looked up at him in consternation. "So, is it buried then, or…?"

"Yes," Malik answered with a confident smile. "it's a fresh start, for all of us."

xXx

The ride to the airport the next morning was subdued, and not only due to the early hour. In light of a personal conquest that traversed the space-time continuum of over three millennia, Malik needed time to let his body rest, and so it was on me to send Ryou and Bakura off on their way.

"Well, Say-chan, this has been quite the adventure, hasn't it?" Ryou laughed in that airy way of his, pulling me into a firm embrace. "It was all worth it, though, I must say."

I felt my eyes well up and my lips wobbled pathetically, not knowing exactly when I might see him, next. "Thank you so much for coming all the way out here, Ry." I blubbered. "I needed you here…we both did."

"Not at all," he squeezed me tighter. "But, I think putting some distance between ourselves for a while, is for the best."

I gazed down at the tiled floor. "If you say so."

"But just think," he added cheerily. "by springtime, you'll be back in Domino."

"That still seems like so far away," I lamented. "I'm going to miss you. I love you, Ry."

He was quiet a moment, before replying, "I love you too, Sable. So very much."

We hugged again, and giggled at each other's tear-stained faces. "I had better be going," he glanced at Bakura, who had been hanging back, awkwardly. "I'll see you through there, yami."

"Itte rasshai!" I yelled after him, waving to Ryou as he passed through the final departure gate, passport in-hand.

"I'll be going, too." Bakura made to depart, watching anxiously as his hikari disappeared from view.

"Bakura, wait." I reached for his arm. "Despite the way things turned out…I'm glad you came. I've learned so much about myself, and about you, and Malik, too. I feel like I have a better understanding of everything, now."

It was a long moment before he spoke, as if he were conjuring up the right thing to say. But then, he came right out with it. "The only reason I came out here was to settle unfinished business. I had no inclinations on seeing you at all…let alone falling in love with my wife, all over again."

At that, I averted his gaze. "…you could have at least warned me, about that."

"I had lost my memories of her." He was quick to point out. "Besides, you'd have never believed me."

I looked back up at him in defeat. "N'yeah you're right, I probably wouldn't've."

"No matter what the circumstances are now, I'm grateful that I was finally given the chance to reunite with her, and put to rest the mystery of what happened to her, all that time ago." He admitted. "And although you may be Sahar's reincarnation, I know that who you are now, is not the person I once knew."

"She loved you, Bakura, so much." I said with conviction, pressing my palm against my heart. "I felt that, within her. And that part of her that lives in me, still loves you. Please don't forget that."

"I don't intend to."

I wrapped my arms around him one last time, and while somewhat rigid and standoffish at first, he finally relented, reciprocating the embrace in kind. In that moment, I relished the memories of comfort that Bakura had provided, in some of my darkest hours. That we had equally alleviated one another's pain in a time of emotional brokenness, would be something we would both always treasure.

"One for the road," he said, tugging my head backward by my hair and closing his mouth down upon mine, kissing me zealously for one final moment of tragic desire, knowing it would be his last.

For Sahar, I thought, and returned the gesture with as much enthusiasm, winding my arms around his neck and pulling him in. Our impromptu display of ardour elicited some dreamy sighs and chuckles from passers-by in the airport, as if we were lovers reunited, or just about to part ways.

"Sahar would hate me for saying this," he murmured, once the moment had come to a close. "but you've got a better arse."

"Get outta here," I laughed, pushing him toward the gate. "Go on, get!"

He smirked in that devious way of his. "Sayonara, my snowy dove. I expect I'll be seeing you again, very soon."

xXx

- Four Months Later -

"Oh my God! There he is!"

"Malik! Malik!"

"He's here!"

"Malik! Over here!"

"I can't believe it! He's back!"

"It's really him!"

"I love you, Malik!"

I never thought I'd be so glad to see rain again, and yet, the spring rains that often came around the time of Hanami was such a welcome sight, I almost broke out into tears when we finally touched down in Japan, on a cool, rainy April afternoon.

The incessant heat, smog and generally appalling state of the environment in Cairo was both oppressive and depressing. There was nary a green space to be seen for miles, and I was largely unable to venture anywhere on my own, lest I be harangued by beggars, or just men generally, for daring to venture out unchaperoned.

Stepping off of Malik's private jet onto a rain-slick tarmac at Domino International Airport, I could not have hoped for a better welcome home. The intermingled scents of rain, jet fuel and Asian food cooking permeated the air, filling my nostrils and my soul with nostalgia.

It was humbling to be met with such a formidable crowd outside the airport terminal. Malik hadn't been back to Japan in almost a year, and his fans were frothing to see him again. Shortly before our departure, he had made an announcement on his website and social media platforms that he would be returning to Domino and, to my delight, that he would be working on producing a new album.

Inside, I had secretly hoped he might pick up from where he left off, music-wise, before the accident. The album he had released to launch his comeback had been astronomically successful, and I had no doubt that he had a lot of material he could draw on from the past year, to produce another.

"Wow, what a reception!" Malik chuckled, as we tentatively made our way toward the throng of—mostly—screaming teenage girls, and photographers flashing their lenses at us.

By now, I was reasonably used to the publicity that Malik attracted, but that didn't make it any less overwhelming. When the scandal of Malik's affair with Anzu had broken, I was labelled as "old news", and had been stalked by the press on a daily basis in the weeks that followed, until the next big bombshell dropped—the car accident. I had suddenly gone from being "the ex" to Malik's "one true love", given that I had more or less dropped everything to be there, for him. His fanbase—and, to that end, the world—now realised I was a serious and permanent fixture, in Malik Ishtar's life.

The first time we had been seen together in public after the accident—in Cairo—I had been taking Malik for a stroll in his wheelchair, around the gated community that we lived in. Two photographers had somehow managed to evade security and slip in, and the next day, there we were—front page news for all the world to see. From that day forward, I was hailed as Malik's "faithful" and "steadfast" girlfriend, even though we slept in separate bedrooms for months, and my heart was still as crushed as it had been the day I found out he was cheating.

I stood by awkwardly as Malik signed some autographs, gave a couple of lucky fans some hugs and allowed them to take some selfies. We duly took a couple of bouquets of roses that were hurled over the barriers at us, and then were hustled through the terminal by Malik's security personnel, toward the waiting truck.

Despite being all-but assaulted by his fans, Malik was grinning from ear to ear as we leapt into the back of the Range Rover.

"I forgot how crazy that side of things can get," he panted, flushed, his eyes dilated in excitement. "Man, I've been outta the game for too long."

I smiled and squeezed his hand. "One thing at a time, okay? You're technically still recovering."

"I know, babe." He sighed contentedly and pushed his hair back, leaning back against the seat. "I'm just glad to be back where I belong."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" I concurred, looking out the window at all the familiar sights as we pulled away.

Not exactly cutting ties, per se—Egypt was and always would be Malik's homeland—we had both made the joint decision to leave the country once and for all, shortly after Ryou and Bakura left. Isis and Rishid had been upset initially, but eventually came round to understanding. Malik's move back to Egypt had only ever been a temporary measure, anyway; he never meant to be there, forever. Our reintegration back into Japan had once again caused the media to fly into a firestorm over our return, but that was the least of our worries, for now. We had hit refresh on our lives, and emigrating was—in a cathartic sort of a way—like starting over with a clean slate.

Among the myriad things that Malik had on his to-do list was selling his property in Cairo, reconvening with his specialists at the burns centre in Domino, and jump-starting his business, Osiris Enterprises, back into motion. Since he had decided to work on producing another album, that begged the question of what would happen with his dance studio. He certainly wouldn't have time to teach classes anymore; he would be spending most of his hours in the studio recording or creating new dance routines.

Our return also begged the question of what exactly I was going to do with my life, now that things would be relatively back to normal. It was something I had given a lot of thought to, over the past couple of months. Certainly, a return to ballet was not entirely out of the question, but ever since my rendezvous to the ancient world, I felt as though my heart was yearning for something more meaningful.

"Where are we, baby? Are we home?" Malik cooed in a baby-like voice at Nailah, who seemed to be at once uncertain yet excited to be back in the home that she had known the longest. When she realised we were, indeed, home, she began wagging her skinny little tail and whined emphatically.

I smiled at her antics as we came inside, feeling a mish-mash of emotions, myself. I had been blindly packing my bags in a state of absolute emotional ruin, the last time I had been here. Despite the arguments we had had in this house, the familiarity of it was still welcoming, and I was reminded of the good times, too.

I reached the master bedroom, dumping my bags down at the foot of the bed. As with everything else in the house, it remained completely unchanged, from the last time I was there. Would I be able to set aside what happened and live here again? I wondered. Would these memories, both good and bad, forever stalk my paranoid mind?

"Everything alright, in here?" Malik knocked lightly on the bedroom door, before entering. He wrapped his arms around my chest from behind me, kissing my cheek. "You feel a little clammy."

"I'm fine," I replied. "Just jetlagged, I think."

"Why don't you take a shower and have a lie down?" he suggested. "That might make you feel better."

Stepping out of the shower, I towelled my hair dry and wrapped the towel around myself, feeling marginally more human than I had, before. Long-haul travel always made me feel ill, and while flying back to Japan by way of Malik's private jet had eased the discomfort of travelling with the masses, there was still no escaping the jetlag. I knew that a week of waking up at absurd hours of the morning lay ahead of me, and was grateful that I didn't currently have a job to go back to, at least for the time being.

When I returned to the bedroom from the en-suite bathroom, Malik was laying on our bed, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. He had changed into a plain white t-shirt and grey track-pants, his legs crossed at the ankles. He put his phone down on the side, when he noticed me.

"There she is." he smiled. "Feeling better?"

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "A little. How're you feeling?"

"Pretty jaded, but I can think of something that might make it better…" he gave me a flirty smirk. "Want to guess what it is?"

"Let me see," I said, placing a finger against my lips in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. "A falafel souvlaki?"

"I mean, I guess I could sink my teeth into that…"

"A back rub?"

"Getting warmer…"

"Oh, I know!" I humoured him. "A premium membership for Porn-Hub!"

"How did you know!?" he cried, launching toward me and ripping the towel from my body.

I cackled as he tickled my ribs and planted kisses along my neck and collarbones. I could feel him growing hard through his pants as he swarmed my body, kissing my lips, squeezing my breasts. Being mindful of his still-healing scars, I slid his t-shirt up over his head, never growing tired of the toned bronze body that was formed more perfectly than Adonis himself.

"I always loved the way your body smells after you've had a shower," he husked, inhaling the rosy scent of my clean skin.

"What about when I'm dirty?"

He sniggered. "Even more, then."

His pants were off before long, his erect member warm and stiff against my thighs as we lay perfectly nude together, kissing, touching and moaning softly, becoming more and more aroused as time melted by. Malik began rubbing my clitoris in circular motions, knowing how well it drove me wild, and, just as I felt the looming presence of orgasm on the horizon, he stopped.

"Come and sit on me," he whispered, manoeuvring to lie down.

I blushed a little. Although it had been months since we had officially gotten back together, we were treading softly when it came to sex, given Malik's fragile state and the fact that we were still on shaky ground, trying to find our feet again.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed. "I want you to suck me with your sweet mouth."

Encouraged, I crawled over on my hands and knees and mounted him in the 69 position, leaning forward to take his penis in my mouth. Just as eagerly, Malik began swirling his tongue over and into my vagina—causing my eyes to roll back in unadulterated pleasure. I groaned lowly as he entered a finger, moving against him as the sensation of nearing orgasm ghosted against my inner thighs, teasing me like the scent of opium to an addict.

"Ohh…nghm…" I breathed, thighs trembling at the impending onslaught of release.

"Mm, that's it baby…"

"Oh, Malik—oh! Ohh!" I shrieked exultantly as I came hard into Malik's mouth, my whole body quaking and tingling with pleasure. "Nghhh…Jesus Christ…"

"Ahh…keep going baby, I'm close," Malik urged, pulsing his cock more urgently into my hand. I got straight back to work, using my mouth and hand to spur him toward climax.

"Ah, fuck…I'm gonna come…Gods, don't stop…" he groaned, writhing like a snake beneath me, gripping the duvet as his body began to tremble. "Oh, yeah…oh, fuuuck…Sable—!"

I moaned in encouragement as his cock hardened to full capacity, and moments later an ecstatic shriek sounded from behind me as a powerful jet of creamy liquid erupted onto my face and breasts.

"Ohhh…ngh…" Malik choked out a hoarse gasp as the wave of pleasure subsided. "Mmm…damn…" he sighed contentedly as I climbed down from him. "that was just what I needed."

I wiped my face with the towel that had been discarded earlier, and crawled up beside him, nestling into his shoulder. "Love you." I whispered, stroking his chest with my thumb absentmindedly.

"Ana baħibbik." He replied, which I had come to learn meant 'I love you' in Egyptian Arabic.

After some time of quiet meditation, I propped myself up on one shoulder. "What's a term of endearment I can call you, in Arabic?"

"You could call me 'Hayaati', which means 'my life', or 'Qalbi' which means 'my heart'. Or 'Malaaki' which means 'angel'."

I snorted. "'Angel' might be pushing it,"

He gave me a sheepish smile. "I guess I haven't really been the most angelic boyfriend, have I?"

"Maybe not," I replied. "but, now would be a good time to start."

He squeezed me tighter and kissed the top of my head. "You know, Sable, I've been thinking…"

"Really? That's not like you." I grinned.

He made a face and pinched my tummy. "I've been thinking about doing an interview. You know…going public on what's happened in my life, these past few years. I feel like I owe it to my fans to set the record straight."

I cast him a doubtful glance. "Are you sure that's a good idea? It could be controversial."

He shrugged. "Everything I do is controversial. People are always going to criticise me, no matter what I do."

"I'll support you in whatever you want to do, Malik." I said. "As long as it's in your best interests."

"It's just an idea, but I think it would help me find some degree of closure. My supporters deserve the honest truth."

"What exactly do you want to say?"

"Well…I never really felt like I got the chance to tell my side of the story, after what happened when I broke up with Yumi. I also need to be honest about Anzu…and the accident."

I swallowed uncomfortably. "Are you sure you want to dredge all that up, again? I thought you were trying to move on, from all that."

"I have moved on, from all that." He corrected, with a reassuring smile. "You are my future, Sable—the most important thing in my life. For the first time in years, I'm feeling optimistic about what the future will hold. Now that I'm no longer burdened by Marik…it's like being born again."

"Let's do it, then." I said, realising that a tell-all interview would be a catharsis for him, and therefore, beneficial to his wellbeing.

"I've got some more thinking to do on the subject; I just feel like now is the right time." He rolled off the bed, scratched his abdomen and then stretched his arms out above his head. "What do you feel like for dinner?"

My mouth suddenly watered, thinking of the many wondrous Japanese delicacies that I had been craving over the past year, which had been all but out of reach in Cairo. "Take a wild guess."

"Falafel?" he teased.

"I think I've had enough falafel to last me the entire three millennia from my past life to the present!"

"Oh, oh! I know!" he hopped from one foot to the other. "Koshary?"

"Don't be a dick!" I scowled, reaching out to slap his torso playfully. He narrowly missed.

"Gods, I love it when you make that face." He gave a rich belly laugh. "Let's go to Ishimoto."

And so it was, as we found ourselves seated once again at the place where it all began—the sushi restaurant where I'd had my first ever dinner date with the pop superstar—I felt as though my life had finally come full circle.

My decision to move to Japan as a doe-eyed sixteen-year-old almost a decade ago had not been without reason, after all—I had come here to save Malik from himself, to discover the person I used to be in the ancient past and the woman I was supposed to become, in the future. I had come to learn what it meant to love, to lose, and to see what I was really made of, to test the boundaries of my inner strength, resilience, patience and fortitude. More than that, I had discovered what my heart was truly capable of, as a friend, as a girlfriend, a lover, a dancer, and more recently, as a healer.

Ultimately, the past nine years had been a journey of discovering the self, but it was only in the past two that I had really taken flight. I could never have imagined the trajectory my life would take, that fateful day that I bumped into Malik Ishtar in the supermarket. The irony that we had spent two years in high school together, and then ran into one another completely by chance some five years later, was not at all lost on me. Some things were just meant to be, and though our relationship had been pockmarked with its share of proverbial landmines, I felt as though we had weathered the worst of it together, with clear skies ahead and the wind bolstering our sails.

I glanced at Malik across the table, looking unfairly gorgeous, as always. He had been through so much in his twenty-four years, and together, we had made great strides. Although I would always be 'once bitten, twice shy' by his infidelity early on in the peace, I was still incredibly proud of his accomplishments, and his tenacity to survive in the face of adversity—from the hardships of being born to poverty as a child, to growing up sexually fluid in a prejudiced world, being possessed for much of his life by a psychotic demon, and defying death itself after the car accident.

More than anything, though, I admired the overflowing warmth and tenderness of his heart and soul, which he readily laid down for me. I had confidence that our love could and would flourish into something profound, in the years to come.

I smiled and raised my glass to him. "Kampai!"

He returned my smile, and clinked my glass with his own. "To new beginnings."

"To new beginnings."

xXx

~End

Phantom: OMGAAAAHHHH!I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINISHED IT! Well…this chapter—which is to say, the final chapter. Do not fret! There will be an epilogue to round out the story shortly, and by popular demand I have decided to include some cut-scenes and random drabbles that never made it to the final draft—probably in another, separate work from this one, however. ANYWAY. THAT IS IT. LA DANSE FATALE IS FINITO! IT ONLY TOOK ME TEN YEARS. XD Thank you so much for your time spent reading what has become such an epic saga! Your reviews, favourites and follows are really what has kept this going for as long as it has! This conclusion wouldn't be complete without some acknowledgements, so…TIME FOR SOME SHOUT OUTS!

Ataahua: GIRL. You KNOW you are the one and only most faithful reviewer of this story from the early days right through 'til the end, and I am so, so, SO grateful for it! I've made an awesome friend in you, who I have now been lucky enough to meet several times in person just because of this feckin' story! Never underestimate the power of fanfiction, people, it can do great things! Our love for the sexy Egyptian known as Marik Ishtar shall burn bright forever and always! XD love you girl!

Naeinu: YOOOO! Girl, with a little persuasion from Ataahua you were a little late to the party, but as they say, better late than never! XD I am SO impressed that you started reading this story and caught up so quickly. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews not only on LDF but my other stories too! Once again, the power of fanfiction has come to the fore to create another special friendship, even if it's only by way of the interwebs, but I have confidence that we will all be able to meet in person, one day! Love you girl xo

Presea: Girl, I don't know where you are or what happened to you, lol, but I know you're out there somewhere! Thank you, too, for reviewing La Danse Fatale and my other story, A Conflict of Interest, so regularly! I hope you're doing well!

Satori: Thank you for your support, also! I hope you're doing well!

And that's it from me…FOR NOW! -flees-