A/N: Updates are probably going to slow down now- I have a lot
of other stories to be working on and some very pissed-off
parents to deal with. God, I hate report cards.
This chapter is only up so quickly because Sailor Comet wanted it, and we like her. She writes neat stuff. *cuddles the "Spoils" series* Plus, it was already half-finished anyway, so not exactly difficult to polish off. ^_^;;
Sorry, still no lemon. But next chappie we get suicidal!Seto and psycho!Jounouchi! ^__^
"Of Dragons and Dogs"
The first thing they heard was the screams. Yuugi nearly jumped out of his skin, but Seto didn't even bother to look and see where they were coming from. The pharaoh tried, but couldn't tell amidst the sudden panic in the marketplace.
"Find out what's going on!" Yuugi ordered the nearest guard.
"Unnecessary," Seto murmured, eyes never moving from the spot in the crowd that they were focused upon. "Look over there, my lord. It's quite . . . interesting."
Yuugi got a very bad feeling even as he followed his priest's single extended finger. The last time Seto had said something was "interesting", they had been in the middle of a disturbingly gory revolution and the priest himself had been scheduled for execution in about five minutes. True, the statue he had been commenting on HAD been lovely, but they were getting dragged off to be butchered at the time, so the young pharaoh had not really seen the point.
So when he saw what Seto was indicating, he was rather surprised, to say the least.
It was a boy, darting easily through the panicking crowd. Nothing more, nothing less, and probably around their own age; muscular and rather attractive, with the strangely light hair that many of the enemy's soldiers seemed to have and by default clearly one of the captives. There was nothing really remarkable about him, saving the bloodstains on his face and chest. He was good as dead if he had a wound that had bled that much anyway- although it was strange that he could still move so quickly.
Then the boy slit the throats of the two guards converging on him in one fluid motion, and it occurred to Yuugi that the aforementioned blood might not necessarily be HIS.
"Very interesting," Seto murmured as the blond tore off for the streets, and Yuugi barely repressed a shudder. The taller man got to his feet and said one simple phrase, his tone deceptively nonchalant:
"Blue Eyes White Dragon, attack."
From the high priest's hand came something neither magical nor physical- it was both and neither, if anything, and with all the impossibility therein implied- and over the marketplace, a gleaming silver dragon came into being with an almighty roar.
And from the suddenly silent crowd came the answering roar of, "Red Eyes Black Dragon!" and Yuugi was shocked to recognize its source as the bloody blonde, who had stopped in his tracks immediately upon recognizing a challenger.
That easily, Seto's Blue Eyes had an opponent, even as Seto himself leapt from the pharaoh's balcony and landed in a crouch, catlike in the square. Then he started to run.
Yuugi watched in disbelief as the priest forced his way through the crowd towards the blonde, pulling a pair of stiletto knives that he was definitely not allowed to carry when alone with the pharaoh out from under his arms. Still, Yuugi couldn't help his fascination even as Seto and the blonde collided, knives dancing with speed that would've shamed a dervish as the dragons screamed overhead and mirrored their masters' little war.
This was just too much. Seto didn't fight; he was too . . . well, for lack of a better term, "prissy." He considered any kind of brawling to be beneath him, and just getting him to let the country declare war was enough to make any ruler seriously consider life as an ostrich farmer. Even the Shadow Games bored him more often than not.
Then again, it wasn't often that they found an opponent who could last against him. And this blonde was doing more than lasting- he was winning.
In the air above the duo, the dragons fought undirected and more violently than in any battle Yuugi had yet seen. The slaves in the marketplace were all oddly silent, watching the priest and blonde's battle with bated breath. Something gave the pharaoh the uneasy feeling that this boy was in the perfect position to start another one of those darned "revolutions."
Yes, that would be bad.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Bakura couldn't decide whether he was really pissed off or deliriously happy. He was leading Yami and Ryou towards a safe house he knew (gods knew where the other three had gotten off to), and Ryou was holding his hand. Willingly. As in, he had taken Bakura's hand, and not the other way around.
"/Bakura-san,/" Ryou began breathlessly, "/is it much farther?/"
Happy. Definitely happy.
"/Just a little,/" he replied softly, automatically tightening his grip on the other's hand for a moment.
"You do anything stupid, baka Egypt, I make dead," Yami informed him in his thick accent, a subtle threat still detectable in his broken tones. Ryou gave him a reproachful look, understanding said tones if not the language itself.
"/Play nice,/" he warned as Bakura simultaneously suggested that the pharaoh's look-alike, "/Fuck off./" Ryou's look was turned on the thief, who melted like butter at high noon.
"/Where are you taking us?/" Yami demanded for at least the third time.
"/Somewhere safe,/" Bakura replied for at least the third time. Ryou chuckled; Yami growled.
And the Blue Eyes White Dragon spun into existence above the marketplace they had just left.
"/That's not Katsuya's dragon . . . /" Yami said in faint confusion.
The Red Eyes appeared a moment later with a challenging scream.
"/That is,/" Ryou mumbled, wincing.
"/Gods DAMN!/" Yami cursed, and would've run back if Ryou hadn't caught his arm.
"Baka!" he yelled. "/You go back, you're as good as caught and sold! Katsuya-sama said to stay split up, remember?!/"
"/But he needs us!/" Yami cried desperately, trying to pull away.
"/Sure as hell doesn't look like that from here,/" Bakura muttered, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the black dragon thrashing the white.
"/Eep,/" Ryou squeaks, his eyes widening. "/Katsuya-sama never told us that his dragon could do THAT . . . /"
"/What a man./" Bakura spared a moment to whistle appreciatively and then reclaimed Ryou's hand and started back towards the safe house.
"/Bakura-san, you're bleeding,/" Ryou realized suddenly.
"/Just a scratch,/" Bakura assured him, hardly even bothering to glance at the scrape across his palm. He'd cut it when one of his lockpicks had popped out of the blonde's chains. Those had been a bitch to undo, he recalled, slightly sourly.
"/That's not the problem, baka!/" Yami snapped. "/How long?!/"
"/Eh?/" Bakura gave him a strange look.
"/He means, how long have you been hurt?/" Ryou clarified gently, taking Bakura's wounded hand in his free one.
Bakura tried not to blush. He was a professional thief, dammit, not some village virgin! A scary, sexy tomb robber with a roguish smirk and-
"/Bakura-san? How long?/" Ryou pressed.
- a tendency to blush like a preteen on his first crush.
"/When I opened the blonde's manacles, my pick broke,/" Bakura replied quietly, not meeting the other boy's eyes. He suddenly felt like a disobedient puppy. "/I'm sorry,/" he added, not sure why he was apologizing.
"/No, it isn't your fault,/" Ryou told him. "/You didn't know it was important./"
"/And is it important?/" Bakura asked dubiously.
"/Only a bit,/" Yami snorted. Bakura favored him with a glare.
"/It's just . . . Katsuya,/" Ryou said uncertainly. "/If they catch him, he'll hunt us. And if you're bleeding all over like that, and if his deck caught a whiff of your blood . . . Well, he has some monsters that are very good at tracking. And I mean GOOD./"
"/I thought he was your friend?/" Bakura raised an eyebrow at the other. Not that that meant much when the other choice was torture, he supposed.
Yami choked. "/Friends? With him?!/" he gasped. "/Are you insane?!/"
"/Shut UP, Yami-kun!/" Ryou hissed. Bakura got the feeling that he was missing something important, but let it pass. "/Anyway,/" Ryou turned back to Bakura, "/the thing is, Katsuya is generally a good person, and yeah, I guess you could call us 'friends', but if somebody actually beats him . . . well . . . /"
"/He rolls over like a fucking dog,/" Yami cut in flatly.
Ryou moaned. "/Yami-kun!/"
"/It's the truth!/" Yami snapped. "/I don't like it any better than you!/"
"/Somehow, I can't see it,/" Bakura said, shrugging slightly. "/Nor can I bring myself to care. If he DOES come after us, I'll kill him./"
Yami burst out laughing. "/I'd love to see you try, thief!/" he crowed.
"/Who said I was a thief?/" Bakura snorted.
"/What else would be as stupid as you?/" Yami retorted sourly. "/Not to mention, carry so many lockpicks?/"
"/Oh, fuck off,/" Bakura snapped. Ryou moved up closer against him, and the tomb robber's pulse quickened slightly.
"/Bakura-san, we really should get going,/" he said. "/Katsuya is very efficient . . . and I've heard things about the warriors here . . . /"
"/Mostly, they're lies,/" Bakura told him.
"/True. But I notice that you said 'mostly'/," Ryou replied dryly, giving the other a mildly exasperated look.
Bakura laughed, delighted, and on impulse reached into his pocket. "/Would you accept this?/" he inquired, removing the silver armband he'd stolen from the pyramid and showing it to Ryou.
Ryou gave it a thoughtful look. "/Where'd you get it?/" he asked.
Bakura just smirked at him.
"/Stupid question,/" Ryou muttered, but took it anyway.
"/You two are disgusting./" Yami grimaced. "/He's a thief, for gods' sakes, Ryou-kun. And an idiot./"
"/But he's got a nice ass and gives me jewelry,/" Ryou countered brightly, sliding the armband on. Bakura turned literally crimson.
"/I take it back; you're BOTH idiots and you probably deserve each other,/" Yami grumbled.
As much as Bakura appreciated the thought, he knew there was no way he could ever deserve Ryou.
Fortunately for their relationship, the other boy was a great deal less inhibited and already quite cheerfully plotting the best way to get him in bed. Yami recognized the gleam in Ryou's eyes and, with a long-suffering sigh, dragged both boys forward.
"/Aren't we there yet?/" he asked in disgust.
"/Actually, you just passed it,/" Bakura informed him, unable to repress a smirk.
Yami just groaned. "/Gods DAMN I hate this country./"
* tbc . . . *
. : review, dammit : .
This chapter is only up so quickly because Sailor Comet wanted it, and we like her. She writes neat stuff. *cuddles the "Spoils" series* Plus, it was already half-finished anyway, so not exactly difficult to polish off. ^_^;;
Sorry, still no lemon. But next chappie we get suicidal!Seto and psycho!Jounouchi! ^__^
"Of Dragons and Dogs"
The first thing they heard was the screams. Yuugi nearly jumped out of his skin, but Seto didn't even bother to look and see where they were coming from. The pharaoh tried, but couldn't tell amidst the sudden panic in the marketplace.
"Find out what's going on!" Yuugi ordered the nearest guard.
"Unnecessary," Seto murmured, eyes never moving from the spot in the crowd that they were focused upon. "Look over there, my lord. It's quite . . . interesting."
Yuugi got a very bad feeling even as he followed his priest's single extended finger. The last time Seto had said something was "interesting", they had been in the middle of a disturbingly gory revolution and the priest himself had been scheduled for execution in about five minutes. True, the statue he had been commenting on HAD been lovely, but they were getting dragged off to be butchered at the time, so the young pharaoh had not really seen the point.
So when he saw what Seto was indicating, he was rather surprised, to say the least.
It was a boy, darting easily through the panicking crowd. Nothing more, nothing less, and probably around their own age; muscular and rather attractive, with the strangely light hair that many of the enemy's soldiers seemed to have and by default clearly one of the captives. There was nothing really remarkable about him, saving the bloodstains on his face and chest. He was good as dead if he had a wound that had bled that much anyway- although it was strange that he could still move so quickly.
Then the boy slit the throats of the two guards converging on him in one fluid motion, and it occurred to Yuugi that the aforementioned blood might not necessarily be HIS.
"Very interesting," Seto murmured as the blond tore off for the streets, and Yuugi barely repressed a shudder. The taller man got to his feet and said one simple phrase, his tone deceptively nonchalant:
"Blue Eyes White Dragon, attack."
From the high priest's hand came something neither magical nor physical- it was both and neither, if anything, and with all the impossibility therein implied- and over the marketplace, a gleaming silver dragon came into being with an almighty roar.
And from the suddenly silent crowd came the answering roar of, "Red Eyes Black Dragon!" and Yuugi was shocked to recognize its source as the bloody blonde, who had stopped in his tracks immediately upon recognizing a challenger.
That easily, Seto's Blue Eyes had an opponent, even as Seto himself leapt from the pharaoh's balcony and landed in a crouch, catlike in the square. Then he started to run.
Yuugi watched in disbelief as the priest forced his way through the crowd towards the blonde, pulling a pair of stiletto knives that he was definitely not allowed to carry when alone with the pharaoh out from under his arms. Still, Yuugi couldn't help his fascination even as Seto and the blonde collided, knives dancing with speed that would've shamed a dervish as the dragons screamed overhead and mirrored their masters' little war.
This was just too much. Seto didn't fight; he was too . . . well, for lack of a better term, "prissy." He considered any kind of brawling to be beneath him, and just getting him to let the country declare war was enough to make any ruler seriously consider life as an ostrich farmer. Even the Shadow Games bored him more often than not.
Then again, it wasn't often that they found an opponent who could last against him. And this blonde was doing more than lasting- he was winning.
In the air above the duo, the dragons fought undirected and more violently than in any battle Yuugi had yet seen. The slaves in the marketplace were all oddly silent, watching the priest and blonde's battle with bated breath. Something gave the pharaoh the uneasy feeling that this boy was in the perfect position to start another one of those darned "revolutions."
Yes, that would be bad.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Bakura couldn't decide whether he was really pissed off or deliriously happy. He was leading Yami and Ryou towards a safe house he knew (gods knew where the other three had gotten off to), and Ryou was holding his hand. Willingly. As in, he had taken Bakura's hand, and not the other way around.
"/Bakura-san,/" Ryou began breathlessly, "/is it much farther?/"
Happy. Definitely happy.
"/Just a little,/" he replied softly, automatically tightening his grip on the other's hand for a moment.
"You do anything stupid, baka Egypt, I make dead," Yami informed him in his thick accent, a subtle threat still detectable in his broken tones. Ryou gave him a reproachful look, understanding said tones if not the language itself.
"/Play nice,/" he warned as Bakura simultaneously suggested that the pharaoh's look-alike, "/Fuck off./" Ryou's look was turned on the thief, who melted like butter at high noon.
"/Where are you taking us?/" Yami demanded for at least the third time.
"/Somewhere safe,/" Bakura replied for at least the third time. Ryou chuckled; Yami growled.
And the Blue Eyes White Dragon spun into existence above the marketplace they had just left.
"/That's not Katsuya's dragon . . . /" Yami said in faint confusion.
The Red Eyes appeared a moment later with a challenging scream.
"/That is,/" Ryou mumbled, wincing.
"/Gods DAMN!/" Yami cursed, and would've run back if Ryou hadn't caught his arm.
"Baka!" he yelled. "/You go back, you're as good as caught and sold! Katsuya-sama said to stay split up, remember?!/"
"/But he needs us!/" Yami cried desperately, trying to pull away.
"/Sure as hell doesn't look like that from here,/" Bakura muttered, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the black dragon thrashing the white.
"/Eep,/" Ryou squeaks, his eyes widening. "/Katsuya-sama never told us that his dragon could do THAT . . . /"
"/What a man./" Bakura spared a moment to whistle appreciatively and then reclaimed Ryou's hand and started back towards the safe house.
"/Bakura-san, you're bleeding,/" Ryou realized suddenly.
"/Just a scratch,/" Bakura assured him, hardly even bothering to glance at the scrape across his palm. He'd cut it when one of his lockpicks had popped out of the blonde's chains. Those had been a bitch to undo, he recalled, slightly sourly.
"/That's not the problem, baka!/" Yami snapped. "/How long?!/"
"/Eh?/" Bakura gave him a strange look.
"/He means, how long have you been hurt?/" Ryou clarified gently, taking Bakura's wounded hand in his free one.
Bakura tried not to blush. He was a professional thief, dammit, not some village virgin! A scary, sexy tomb robber with a roguish smirk and-
"/Bakura-san? How long?/" Ryou pressed.
- a tendency to blush like a preteen on his first crush.
"/When I opened the blonde's manacles, my pick broke,/" Bakura replied quietly, not meeting the other boy's eyes. He suddenly felt like a disobedient puppy. "/I'm sorry,/" he added, not sure why he was apologizing.
"/No, it isn't your fault,/" Ryou told him. "/You didn't know it was important./"
"/And is it important?/" Bakura asked dubiously.
"/Only a bit,/" Yami snorted. Bakura favored him with a glare.
"/It's just . . . Katsuya,/" Ryou said uncertainly. "/If they catch him, he'll hunt us. And if you're bleeding all over like that, and if his deck caught a whiff of your blood . . . Well, he has some monsters that are very good at tracking. And I mean GOOD./"
"/I thought he was your friend?/" Bakura raised an eyebrow at the other. Not that that meant much when the other choice was torture, he supposed.
Yami choked. "/Friends? With him?!/" he gasped. "/Are you insane?!/"
"/Shut UP, Yami-kun!/" Ryou hissed. Bakura got the feeling that he was missing something important, but let it pass. "/Anyway,/" Ryou turned back to Bakura, "/the thing is, Katsuya is generally a good person, and yeah, I guess you could call us 'friends', but if somebody actually beats him . . . well . . . /"
"/He rolls over like a fucking dog,/" Yami cut in flatly.
Ryou moaned. "/Yami-kun!/"
"/It's the truth!/" Yami snapped. "/I don't like it any better than you!/"
"/Somehow, I can't see it,/" Bakura said, shrugging slightly. "/Nor can I bring myself to care. If he DOES come after us, I'll kill him./"
Yami burst out laughing. "/I'd love to see you try, thief!/" he crowed.
"/Who said I was a thief?/" Bakura snorted.
"/What else would be as stupid as you?/" Yami retorted sourly. "/Not to mention, carry so many lockpicks?/"
"/Oh, fuck off,/" Bakura snapped. Ryou moved up closer against him, and the tomb robber's pulse quickened slightly.
"/Bakura-san, we really should get going,/" he said. "/Katsuya is very efficient . . . and I've heard things about the warriors here . . . /"
"/Mostly, they're lies,/" Bakura told him.
"/True. But I notice that you said 'mostly'/," Ryou replied dryly, giving the other a mildly exasperated look.
Bakura laughed, delighted, and on impulse reached into his pocket. "/Would you accept this?/" he inquired, removing the silver armband he'd stolen from the pyramid and showing it to Ryou.
Ryou gave it a thoughtful look. "/Where'd you get it?/" he asked.
Bakura just smirked at him.
"/Stupid question,/" Ryou muttered, but took it anyway.
"/You two are disgusting./" Yami grimaced. "/He's a thief, for gods' sakes, Ryou-kun. And an idiot./"
"/But he's got a nice ass and gives me jewelry,/" Ryou countered brightly, sliding the armband on. Bakura turned literally crimson.
"/I take it back; you're BOTH idiots and you probably deserve each other,/" Yami grumbled.
As much as Bakura appreciated the thought, he knew there was no way he could ever deserve Ryou.
Fortunately for their relationship, the other boy was a great deal less inhibited and already quite cheerfully plotting the best way to get him in bed. Yami recognized the gleam in Ryou's eyes and, with a long-suffering sigh, dragged both boys forward.
"/Aren't we there yet?/" he asked in disgust.
"/Actually, you just passed it,/" Bakura informed him, unable to repress a smirk.
Yami just groaned. "/Gods DAMN I hate this country./"
* tbc . . . *
. : review, dammit : .
