Gift
**
It was seven in the morning, and Bakura had been awake for hours. Bakura had always been something of a nocturnal person; it sort of came with the position of thief and tomb robber. Yami though, despite his name of "darkness", still preferred sleeping all night and being awake during the daylight hours. But still, somehow he and Bakura got along just fine.
And Bakura never much minded being awake while Yami slept. Sometime in the early morning, while Yami still slept but there was enough sunlight coming through the window to see by, Bakura would pull out the sketchpad he kept hidden in his pillowcase, and would make rough sketches of his sleeping lover. He never planned on showing Yami any of these pictures, but he thought he was actually getting pretty good at drawing the Pharaoh.
He was working on one such drawing that morning, when there was an insistent pounding on the door downstairs. Bakura glowered, hoping whoever it was would go away. Yami frowned in his sleep, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head.
"Aww…" Bakura muttered. "You moved." He shoved the sketchbook back into his pillowcase and stomped downstairs to open the door.
"What are you doing here?" Bakura growled when he found Joey standing on the porch. "Yugi's at Seto's and Yami's asleep. Go away."
"Hold it!" Joey said, holding the door to keep Bakura from slamming it closed in his face. "I actually came to talk to you."
"Me?" Bakura folded his arms. "Why?"
"Well, I sorta… need your help," Joey said.
"No." And Bakura pushed Joey back so he could slam the door closed.
"HEY!" Joey started to pound on the closed door again. "Don't you even want to know what I need help with?!"
"No!" Bakura yelled back from inside.
"If you don't open this door I'll make sure you and Yami never get any privacy EVER AGAIN!" threatened Joey.
"I don't care!" was Bakura's reply.
"Yeah, but won't Yami? You think he'll put out in public? And do you really want to have me around all the time?"
There was a silence from inside, and a moment later Bakura opened the door. "Alright, what is it you want?"
Joey grinned at him. "You can locate Millennium Items with your Ring, can't you?"
Bakura raised an eyebrow. "If I'm in their general area. Which Item are you looking for?"
"The Millennium Rod."
"Feh, what do you need my help for then? Just go find Marik."
Joey shook his head. "Actually… the Millennium Rod was sort of… stolen."
"Stolen?!" Bakura growled. "Gods, I knew Marik should have just given the damn stick to me… You owe me for this one." He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him, and started off down the street. Grinning, Joey ran to catch up with him.
**
It was already early afternoon when Joey finally returned back home. It had taken a while for Bakura to pinpoint the location of the Millennium Rod, but after that, things had been oddly easy. Joey still couldn't understand why the gang of thieves had been so reluctant to fight him. They hadn't had nearly so much hesitation in attacking Bakura. Joey hoped Bakura's split lip would heal quickly. He really wasn't looking forward to getting the lecture he knew Yami would be giving him after he found out Joey had put Bakura in even the slightest amount of danger.
Serenity ran into the living room to hug her brother the moment he was home. Joey hugged her back, then looked around for their houseguest.
"Where's Marik? He run off already?" Joey asked.
His sister shook her head. "He's in the kitchen," Serenity answered. "He was helping me wash the dishes. Marik's nice, is he going to be staying here a while?"
Joey blinked at her. Marik, washing the dishes? He couldn't quite picture it. "I dunno. Maybe." He headed toward the kitchen to go see this abnormal occurrence for himself.
With a rag for drying still clutched in one hand, Marik was standing on his tiptoes, putting away clean dishes on the high shelves of the cupboard. Joey watched with a curious smile on his face until Marik was done with the domestic task.
As if he could sense someone watching him, Marik finished putting away the last plate and turned to look at Joey. "About time you got home. Serenity was starting to worry."
Joey smiled. Serenity always worried about him. "And you weren't worried?"
Marik lifted a shoulder in a sort of half-shrug. "You can take care of yourself." He pulled another plate from the soapy water in the sink and started to dry it off.
"That didn't answer my question," Joey said, walking over to lean against the kitchen countertop, watching Marik dry dishes.
"Is it some habit of yours to just disappear before anyone else in the house is awake?" Marik asked, instead of answering Joey's question.
"Maybe. Would it bother you?"
Marik put away the dried plate. "It's your house, you can do what you want."
"Are you avoiding answering me on purpose?" Joey asked.
"Maybe. Would it bother you?" Marik countered with a hint of his usual wicked smile.
"Yes!"
"Tough." Marik reached into the sink for another dish, but Joey grabbed his wrist to stop him. Marik paused, staring for a long moment at the offset of his own tanned skin against Joey's pale hand, then finally looked up to meet Joey's gaze.
"I was out getting you a present," Joey finally said. Letting Marik's wrist go, he pulled off the backpack he had slung over one shoulder, digging through it a moment before pulling out the Millennium Rod.
Marik snatched his most precious treasure from Joey's hand when he offered it over. His fingers traced over each familiar curve of the golden object, delighted to have it back in his possession. Joey's eyes were fixed on the way Marik practically caressed the gleaming metal of the Millennium Item. It was almost… indecent the way Marik touched that thing. Still, it took a lot of willpower to look away.
Marik looked up at Joey again, almost reluctantly. It had been hard enough to thank Joey the first time; how in the world was he supposed to express what he felt now? "Joey…"
Joey smiled back at him, shrugging. "Really, no problem at all. I'll, uh, let you get back to the dishes." He walked out of the kitchen, brushing past his sister, who'd been peering in quietly from the kitchen doorway.
