Right, I don't really know what I was on when I wrote this so this chapter may/will appear strange and unusual. Leave a review all the same though and make me happy. Thanks!
I don't usually do this but Pachelbel wrote such nice things and left such a cool review that I felt that I just *had* to respond to it. Story is further down if you don't want to bother with it.
Pachelbel: Borath, I hate you SO much right now.
Borath: Oh cheers!
P: Gah! Okay, here's the deal. I have come to love your writing, therefore I decided I needed to read all of your fics.
B: (Grins insanely) Thank you!
P: Luckily, my dad was in the shower and the computer was free. As I was in a Bakura mood, I chose this one.
B: The only reason this fiction exists was because I was in Bakura mode one day. Unfortunately I'm still not out of that mode…
P: Then my dad starts saying things like
"What the hell are you doing on the computer?! We need to go NOW!"
and then I got very annoyed with the new college that's been stalking me, because
I had to go to this expo thingamabob and couldn't finish your story.
B: Been there, done that. That intruding aspect of collage utterly and completely sucks. I read in my free periods and the bell demanding that I move my ass usually rings at the best part in the story.
P: So in between the rush to find my cats and stuff them away for the weekend and answer stupid questions like "Are you SURE you're packed?", I tried to print out all six chapters of 'Experiment'.
B: Aw. I'm flattered. You'd kill trees for me? This *is* rather a long fic now you know…
P: YEAH. THAT worked like a charm, let me tell
ya.
B: I can sense tension in this review concerning that topic.
P: So I got stuck with Chapters 2, half of 3, 4, and 6.
B: I bet *you* got confused pretty damn quick!
P: THEN I was pouting for a while, then tried
to put it all out of my mind so I could enjoy my 'vacation' time.
B: Lucky sod. I'm stuck in merry old England working and you're off swaning around on holiday!
P: That didn't work as well as I'd planned.
Wound up having a truly freaky dream involving Yami and Bakura and me. *sigh*.
B: You said that just to make me jealous. Evil.
P: Now on to the real story review (you should be happy my dad's computer hates me and didn't give up all the chapters, because otherwise I might not have reviewed).
B: I'm very happy that your dad's computer hates you because I'm loving the praise here!
P: Oh boy, this will take some time.
B: It hasn't already?!
P: Yours is the most (er, the *only*) tastefully done romance I've ever read on this site...or anywhere, come to think of how much I (usually) detest romances.
B: Thank you! All warm, fuzzy and flattered now.
P: What's completely mind boggling is that it is YAOI.
B: No, what I found mind-boggling is that it *became* one. I was just abusing Yami (again) and Saria the Green Haired asked where the yaoi was, then it mutated into one. The rest is history.
P: Do you know how HARD it seems to be for people to write good yaoi?????
B: Do you know how hard it is writing this fic?! I've read so many their polluting my mind!
P: There are NO cliches in the "snogging" scenes.
B: That's what I meant by 'pollution'. I hate clichés because they read terribly and I don't think Bakura-the-sudden-poet would exactly think them.
P: That's what irritates me most about romances; the flipping cliches! It's like they copy and paste each other's work!
B: I have read a few that don't follow the same formula but sodding ff.net has taken them down. BASTARDS!!! *cough* Sorry. Emotional outburst. Beware ranting now.
P: Yours is ORIGINAL, the creme de la creme!
B: Due to the fact that this is the only Yami/Bakura pairing from Bakura's POV; it's not too hard to keep original. I'm loving the praise by the way.
P: I also hate when Bakura gets paired with anyone in a relationship where he isn't just using them.
B: Nice aren't you?!
P: Do I anymore? NO. Curse you, you've changed my mind and outlook on far too many things with this story.
B: Um… Sorry?
P: I hope my heart doesn't get all bruised
from being so high in expectations from other authors...might actually coax me
to flame them if that turns out to be the case.
B: I'm flattered, really. I love your stuff ('Yami-Yugi's Diary' is one of the best fics on this site and I can't wait for the next installment of 'Yami-Yugi Moves Out') and I find it brilliant when someone who's writing skills I adore praises mine. Warm and tingly.
P: Okay, WRITE ANOTHER CHAPTER!
B: Scroll down.
P: TURN THIS INTO A SERIES!
B: I think it is one. But I don't have to admit it! Ha!
P: (or at least admit that's what it is, and a very good one at that).
B: It is not a series. It is a multi-chaptered fiction that is mutating on me and killing all time for the other fics that are still waiting to be completed. I said that it wasn't a series at the beginning and I don't admit my mistakes easily. You're going to have to torture me for a very long time to get me to cough up the 's' word. Urgh. Shouldn't have had chocolate for breakfast.. Am rambling…
P: You need ideas?
B: Well, the presence of this chapter indicates otherwise but because this is multi-chaptered (Note; and *not* a series) I could do with a few.
P: Okay, let's see....uhm...LoL, I loved the Bakura-gets-Yami-a-pet thing...
B: A one-shot where he gets Ryou a hamster (evil, mutant, spawn of Satan creature) now exists.
P: so he ought to take Yami shopping for easier to do and undo buckled shirts. :D It's been their bane for four chapters now!
B: I know. I'm a meanie. Right. Will send the boys shopping.
P: Right, I think that's long enough, so I'll just go back to adding this to my faves and reading.
B: You do that. I love long reviews though (as opposed to single sentence ones) so do this again! Please!
PanicIf there is one thing I love about Sundays, aside from the fact that I can egg the mortals going to church and the Smurfs are on, it's that I have Yami all to myself all day. It was Joey's birthday yesterday and he was stupid enough to invite me to the party being held at Mai's house, probably because I'm attached to Yami now and one of us going without the other would probably lead to a temper tantrum.
Anyway, there was a sufficient amount of alcohol and Joey passed out (weakling) three hours into the celebrations. I put waxing strips liberated from the hostess's toiletry bag on his eyebrows and then took a photo of Honda pulling them off so I had a good time. There is something to be said of modern-day devices. The photo is priceless.
So, this morning, I was unusually hung-over. Alcohol doesn't tend to kick me in the head too badly but there were a lot of shots this morning so now it feels like someone is attacking me with that space-ship piloted by the bald guy on telly. A good remedy for a hangover is a long hot shower, and since Yami was over anyway and in a similar state, we figured that showering together was the best option available. And no, it's not only for the purpose of saving water. Actually from the way things are going now we're going to use all of the hot water for the day in one go.
I find his hair fascinating so I made a point of standing behind him so I could wash it, toying with the multi-colored strands and getting slapped when I told him that he looked cute with his hair matted. I hit him back when he said pretty much the same thing to me, although I think my slap was actually warranted because he used the words 'drowned' and 'mouse' in his description.
Right now I'm working up a lather over his shoulder blades and he's being a good boy and standing still. I can tell he's having a problem with that but I have a headache and I'll be damned if he uses that weakness to his advantage. He's going to stay where he is until I see fit.
/We're going shopping later by the way/ I tell him as I work my fingers firmly into the muscles leading up to his neck. /If I have to battle with one more damn buckle today I'll scream/
He makes an amused sound and starts to turn around, rolling his eyes slightly when I snap my hands up and hold him still. I still haven't finished washing his back and he's been teasing me all week. It's my turn now.
/I agree. Can we stay in until then? I don't feel all that well/
I frown at that. He hasn't been feeling 'all that well' for three days now, which shouldn't be able to happen because of the Puzzle. I hope he's not going to get too sick on me; I'd get very pissed off if I had to dote on another cold-ridden entity in this life. Ryou was bad enough.
I had to hide in the Ring for a whole day whilst the smell of that crap in the bowl left the house. How Ryou didn't die inhaling it with a towel over his head and the bowl I'll know. Then he stank of menthol or summut for a week and I really wanted to dunk him in oil or similar just to get rid of the smell.
Come to think of it, the Puzzle should have sorted out any illness Yami has within a few days, and it took three days for that black eye to disappear when I accidentally kicked him. Is the Puzzle broken or is there a bigger problem here that neither of us know about?
/Are you alright?/ Yami prompts, startling me out of my train of thought. We've perfected filtering certain thoughts from each other so I can muse about how hot his ass looks in black leather with or without him hearing at whim. I realize that I've had my hands in the same position on his back for a full minute now, my body freezing as it tends to when I'm deep in thought.
Rubbing his forearms apologetically, I turn him around and sweep some of the gold bangs out his face, moving slightly so that the brunt of the water is taken by my back and not by his face. "A better question would be are *you* alright?"
He looks mildly surprised that I have shifted out of the bond; I only do that when I'm being serious with him. He tries to diffuse some of my concern by cocking a brow at me and smiling in a way that says 'you soft-touch, fawning over me like a cat over a kitten'. "I'm hung-over. It'll pass in a few hours."
I open my mouth to press the subject but snap it shut again as I actually *think* about it. What would I say? That I'm concerned because he's a little paler than usual? How sappy would that sound?! I'll drop it. Focus on what I can do to him when he's feeling better. Urgh. Thinking is making my head hurt again. I'll just finish cleaning him up, sort myself out and then we can collapse on the sofa and watch the Smurfs.
I might ask him where he got that bruise on the back of his left thigh first though. Looks worrying. Did I do that? My memory isn't exactly intact just yet; unlike mortals I don't forget anything, but after alcohol the recall time for a memory is a heck of a lot longer than usual. It'll come to me in about an hour but I'm feeling very protective this morning so I want to know now so I can go smash someone's head in. Then they can have a head that feels like mine.
/You did that before you ask/
I frown at that. /How exactly?/
/I believe you grabbed my ankle and we fell off the roof at some point. I'm not sure. I'm not sure if I really want to remember either/
The scary thing is I don't even remember there being an outside to the house. I remember being inside and waking up with my feet in the kitchen sink and my face by the kettle, which made me yell very loudly upon waking as the first thing I saw was this huge, distorted eye staring at me. Said yell made my head explode in pain and Yam throw the butter at me from where he had collapsed against the fridge.
We wake up in weird places after binge drinking I find. The strangest place we returned to the world of the living in was either the fishing boat, which took us five hours to get back home from, or the middle of the golf course three miles away from where the party had actually taken place. I think we had a bonfire for the little flags by the holes in the ground at some point because the charred remains were smoking next to where we were curled up against each other.
Good times. But if Yami snuffs it because of this sickness then we won't be able to do this stuff anymore and I will be most pissed off. Hope he's going to be alright. I like having him around and I'm not done corrupting him yet. Anzu told me the other day that I bring out the worst in him. There are no words to describe how good I felt hearing that.
****
"How about-?"
"No."
"But-"
"I said no."
"I'm the one who has to wear it!"
"And I'm the one who has to get it off of you! It's my decision!"
Yami huffs at me and dumps the fifth shirt that he's picked up back onto the wrack. I've decided that there is *definitely* something wrong with him now as he usually puts up more of a fight if he disagrees with me. Either that or I'm getting paranoid.
I've been inspecting him when he isn't looking or 'listening', looking for signs of weight-loss or similar. If anything he seems to have put on a bit of weight. I should ask him about that.
/Have you been binge-eating when I'm not around?/
He quirks a brow at me as he holds a deep blue shirt against himself for my approval, smiling with mild amusement. I nod slightly not really thinking about the shirt, but I see his look of relief as he slings the item over his shoulder and starts rummaging for another article.
/You think I'm getting fat?/
Ooh, *that's* a dangerous question.
It's like when a woman asks you what you think of her hair. You can say one of three things with varying responses. The first is the acceptance response; 'It looks fine' to which she will respond 'No it *bloody* doesn't you liar!' and storm off leaving you stood there like a lemon not knowing what to do next.
The second is the honest response, often accompanied by some kind of hand gesture and cautious facial expression; 'Well, it could use a little work' to which she will scream 'Does it?!' which leaves you with a rabid bitch for the rest of the evening and, quite likely, week.
The third is the cowards' response, always accompanied by a hasty retreat to somewhere that is nowhere near where she is; 'Fuck off. I'm not getting involved' to which she can say *sod* *all*, which is fantastic. I had a wife back in Egypt so depressingly enough I know these things.
I usually used the cowards' response or merely glared imposingly until she backed off. Women are quite simple to handle if you know how and thankfully Yami is not as hormonal as a woman so I should be able to answer his question without getting castrated or threatened with celibacy.
/I think you've put on a bit of weight, yes/ I answer carefully, trying to make my mental voice and outward appearance appear confident.
/That's because I'm actually eating more often now rather than being stuck in the Puzzle all the time. I'm bound to put on a little weight; it's not like I'm pregnant/ he replies with a genuine smile and a mental laugh, turning his back on me as he returns his attention to the clothes wrack.
I *know* that that was a joke and meant as nothing more than one but from the way my face seems to have frozen and the way I can feel ice in my gut, my mind is apparently not taking it as one. After a few seconds off staring at Yami's back in blind shock I actually begin to think about that logically.
Technically Yami and I are little more than blobs of energy supported by separate magical Items and endowed with the ability to control Shadow Magic. Is it possible for two blobs of energy to produce a third, smaller, hyperactive blob of energy? Oh holy fuck I got my boyfriend pregnant.
No. No I didn't. I'm being paranoid. This is insane. Why am I thinking this?!
Because things are going too perfectly at the moment and something just *has* to go wrong somewhere? Or is it that I'm still drunk and my thought processes are doing this on purpose to scare me?
Still, it's a possibility, isn't it? We're not human in every sense of the word and we don't exist on a single plane of existence. Many things are possible in this world and I've just realised that I'm trying to convince myself that this is true. Ick-ick-no!
Babies = evil. They're loud, annoying and smell funny. They depend on you and I'm bad enough at looking after Ryou with a cold. How would I handle a screaming baby? I'd end up killing it…
And now that feeling of panic has just intensified. I know it's not possible but there's an inkling of doubt and I don't know why I can't just *believe* that Yami is most certainly *not* pregnant. He can't be. I'd kill myself.
Or would I? No-stoppit. I am not even *considering* this. I can't and I won't. But I need to be sure. I *have* to be sure before I go even more insane than I appear to be at the moment.
/I'll be back in a few minutes love. Just thought of something I need to get/ I say in an uncomfortably higher-pitched voice than normal.
He gives me an odd look but nods slightly and returns to the various shirts. I spend a few seconds remembering how to move and then make a sprint for the drug's counter.
'Yami's not pregnant' is a mantra in my head as I stare blindly at the why-the-fuck-are-there-this-many-types-of- pregnancy-test kits, wondering why the Gods are being so cruel to me. This is not fair. It's not.
Damning my ignorance of modern medicine to Hell, I close my eyes and grab whatever my hand touches, stuffing the box into my jacket pocket and walking back to where I left Yami. This kit feels unusually heavy and I think it's contaminated with something because I suddenly feel incredibly nauseous.
Finally reaching Yami, I wordlessly take the pile of shirts off of him, stick them back in a pile on the shelf and drag him by the elbow towards the toilets.
/Bakura? What's wrong? What's happened?/
I don't think I could answer him straight even if I tried to so I just push him into the toilets, bolt the door behind me and lean against the wood as he watches me with deep concern etching his features.
/Bakura. You're really worrying me. What's the matter?/
Swallowing heavily, I glance around to make sure that no-one is locked in here with us before answering. I think I just confirmed my paranoia by the way.
/I think you might be pregnant/
Yami stares at me levelly for ten whole seconds before he breaks down in laughter, actually having to wrap his arms about his midsection in an attempt to calm himself down as he shakes. /That, is probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Whatever gave you that idea?/
I frown at how he is taking this. This is jolly-fucking-serious! This is a baby and my sanity here! /You've put on weight and you haven't been well recently/
He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his bangs before he presses his palms together and purses his lips, obviously trying to find the words to dispel my fears, or admit to his. Ha! I'd love it if he were thinking the same thing as me; it wouldn't make me out to be insane if that were the case.
/Love, listen to me, please. I don't know why I'm sick but I am most certainly not pregnant/
Glaring with renewed energy, I thrust the test-kit at him from out of my pocket. /Make sure/
His eyes go impossibly wide. /You're insane./
I know.
/I am *not* peeing on a stick!/ he mentally shouts indignantly as he skims over the instructions. Ha! See?! He wouldn't be checking the instructions if there was absolutely no doubt of his non-pregnant state in his mind! I'm not alone in my paranoia and insanity. Good. Now I won't have to kill myself. But I need him to take the test to prove that all these fears are unwarranted.
/Just do it please?/ I never say 'please' so he knows I'm serious. I pout a little and make my eyes bigger too. Got him. With a loud sigh, he rolls his eyes and moves into one of the cubicles, cursing me in Ancient Egyptian the entire time. I can let that pass at the moment; I have bigger worries.
A few minutes later he emerges from the cubical with an unreadable expression. What does that mean?! What?! /Well?!/ I prompt impatiently when he doesn't speak.
Holding out the white piece of plastic, he sends back /see for yourself/ and then crosses his arms in his usual confident pose. Feeling like I'm being given a date and time for my execution, I take the plastic stick from him and stare at it.
Oh shit.
There's a blue line in the little window.
My legs go weak and my head feels strange, my arm with the hand holding the incriminating stick attached dropping to my side limply as I slide to the floor against the door. Oh Ra. Oh Fuck. What are we going to do? This is insane. I'm going to wake up in a minute on a fishing boat and this will have all been some alcohol-induced dream with no pregnant Yami in real life.
Said Yami is kneeling in front of me now, taking my empty, clammy hand in his and holding it to his chin, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. /I'm sorry Bakura. I really didn't know that you wanted to be a father so much/
Huh? Run that by me again.
/What?/
He frowns at me slightly before realisation hits and he grins, slapping the side of my head lightly with his hand before taking the evil stick off of me. Holding it up, he points to the horrible blue line and stares intently into me eyes.
"One blue line means it's worked you little idiot. Two is a confirming result," he says slowly and firmly.
I lunge at him madly after a few seconds during which that sinks in, pressing almost desperately relieved kisses to his throat and mouth before just dragging him to the floor entirely. These tiles are really cold but after that emotional roller-coaster I need an outlet. The door is definitely locked and although surprised, Yami seems to be happy to indulge this need of mine.
/Thank you for being a guy/ I send, not realising I'd sent that across the bond until afterwards and feeling a bit of an idiot.
He gives me a funny look before nipping at the delicate underside of my wrist making me shiver. /You're welcome. And please tell me *before* you drag me into a toilet when you have these paranoid little thoughts again, okay?/
And share the insanity? /Deal/
****
Umm. Yeah. Review me please.