Bakura: Yay, another one with me in it…

Tsuki: I know, isn't it great?

Bakura: Just peachy…

Tsuki: Anyway. Seven words for you. Forbidden love is such a turn on. Yup, I'm doing a romance. ^_^. Anyway here's a few thing to help out since there are some unfamiliar things.

1. Ammit- in Egyptian religion she is a half crocodile/leopard/hippopotamus creature. During the weighting of the heart, if a person's heart weighed more than the feather of Ma'at then their soul was devoured by Ammit. In other words if you were too sinful then you lost you soul. She's like the Egyptians version of hell.

2. Nakht- Bakura's alias. This is why I chose it: The first name of Nakht creates an intense personal nature. Your feelings and emotional desires are strong and consequently you are an individual, determined, strong-willed person. Your creative nature and ambition drive you to pursue success to the extent that you jeopardize your personal well-being. There is a tendency for you to dominate others. You are too certain of yourself, and you are not open to the views of others or responsive to their desires or needs. Also, this name does not incorporate qualities that enable you to be diplomatic and to compromise.

Hehe. It's Bakura all over.

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A young white-haired Egyptian man half ran, half limped across the night's desert sands. Fueled by adrenaline he pushed his body to its limits willing himself to go faster, furthering the distance between himself and his pursuing slave traders.

At any other time he would stand his ground and fight, just daring them to challenge him. But not this night. Already injured from a trap in the tomb he had been raiding, the traders had ambushed him. And now, even more injured from their sudden attack he was running for his very life.

Through blood obscured vision he saw his destination, the temple's limestone surface reflecting the full moon's light. A wave of dizziness overtook him for a moment and he stumbled in the sand. That slight stumble was all the time one of the slave traders needed to aim and shoot an arrow

Now salvation seemed so far as the white-haired thief once again stumbled from the impact, this time crashing into the sand. The slave traders now closed the gap between them and their prey. But no, the well known Great Thief wasn't going to let it end like this. He willed himself to stand, using his last bit of strength to sprint towards the so near temple. His feet took the sleek marble stairs two by two, throwing himself into the massive temple doors he tumbled into the main hall.

The traders stopped just short of the temple's steps. They would not dare hunt in a temple. Not before the eyes of the Gods lest their souls be sent to Ammit.

He could feel his blood leaving him as if his very soul was seeping out. He felt the deep gash in his right calf, the all too close gashes under his right eye, his badly broken left wrist, and most of all the arrow deeply embedded in his left shoulder. The young man smiled despite his agony. He was safe.

A young girl rounded a corner, gasping as she saw the badly injured Egyptian. Her small outcry caused the thief to lift his head slightly, looking in her direction.

"Help me…"

He eyes went to the doors and she saw the traders standing at the foot of the temple's steps. Running to the doors she slammed them shut and bolted them. Now she was at the thief's aid breaking the shaft of the arrow off and rolling him to his side.

His head drooped and he started to slip into unconsciousness.

"Hold on, just hold on."

One week later…

A wet cloth placed on his forehead startled the recovering thief from hazy unconsciousness. He shot upright, grasping his shoulder, the offended appendage scorching him with pain from the quick motion.

A pair of hands pressed themselves against his bare chest, applying slight pressure that urged him back into the welcomed softness of the cot he lay on.

"Lie still."

He blinked a few times, focusing his vision. "Where am I?"

"Close your eyes."

He obliged, welcoming the soothing darkness. He felt the dressings under his eye being taken off and then replaced with fresh ones. Felt the same sensation on his injured leg.

"You're in the temple of Anubis in Heliopolis.

Had he really run that far? Or had he been that close to Heliopolis all along? He opened his eyes again, looking up at the person who was tending to his wounds. She looked like any other Egyptian girl. Long straight black hair, perfectly tanned skin, but her eyes…not the normal dark brown but an alluring blue-green color. She noticed him staring and averted her eyes from him slightly.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week's time."

"What's your name?"

"What is yours?"

He smirked slightly at her. "Bakura." He waited for the traditional reaction that he usually got but she didn't give one. how could she not know who he was? Him. The Great Thief Bakura, known throughout Upper and Lower Egypt.

"I'm-"

"Well I see that he's awake. You should be thankful for the hospitality you have received boy."

Bakura scowled at the man's tone. "I am."

"Are you almost done girl?"

"Yes Lord Djal."

"Good, dinner will be served shortly."

Bakura struggled to sit up and he once again stared at the young girl tending to his wrist. "Are you a slave here?"

She never once met his gaze. "No."

The answer intrigued the young thief. Her mannerisms seemed that of a slave, yet she wasn't. What had been done to this girl to make her so submissive without branding her a slave?

"You are in my care while here and you may stay as long as you please." She stood, looking at him calmly. She knew who he was, knew his crimes. "I'll bring you something to eat. It is dinner time after all."

Bakura nodded to her and she turned exiting the room.

Djal was waiting for her when she came out. He placed an arm around her shoulders, leading her down the hall. She stiffened under his touch.

"So Arétut, Have you found out our visitor's name?"

"His name is…Nakht."

She slipped away from him and proceeded to the kitchens. Grabbing a meal tray she exited, heading back to the spare room Bakura was resting in. Aré pushed open the door and glared at the thief.

He was on the floor doing one armed push-ups on his good arm while his injured leg rested across his good one, keeping weight off of it.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Bakura fell to the floor, startled by her outburst and groaned as pain shot through him.

Aré sighed, setting the tray on a nearby table and made her way to the Bakura. "Here let me help you."

"Don't touch me! I can get up myself." He tried to stand several times but soon found the pain crippling. Breathing labored, he closed his eyes trying to detach himself from the fire that ripped through him. He felt his wounds seeping blood again, staining the white linen that covered them.

Aré's glare softened and she knelt beside him. "If you will not get better if you do not rest."

Bakura opened his eyes, slightly glaring at her, then closed them again in silent defeat. She was right and he knew it.

Aré slipped her arm around his waist, letting him use her for support as she helped him stand, then eased him down into his cot.

As Aré went to get fresh linen for his wounds, Bakura laid there and stared at his leg, watching his blood spread across the bandage. Anger flashed across his features. Weakness. He had shown weakness. And in front of her. She would remember his weakness, he knew it. Everyone always remembered it.

A touch on his arm roused him from his thoughts.

"Leave me alone."

"You need me and you know that. You have no choice."

"I don't need anyone!"

Aré began to redress his wounds, despite the thief's protests. When she was finished she brought the tray of food to him. She sat down beside him, setting the tray in her lap. She dipped the spoon into the hot soup then hovered it in front of him.

Bakura narrowed his eyes at her. "I can feed myself."

"You can barely sit up by yourself, and after your little push-up routine I highly doubt if you can even do that now."

"Yes I can."

Aré set the spoon back in the bowl and gave him a smug look. "Then do it."

He glared at her. His bluff had failed, he knew he could not sit up. It hurt him just to simply breathe, let alone sit up.

She crossed her arms. "Well?"

"I hate you."

"I do not care." She hovered the spoon in front of him again. "Eat."

He turned his head away from her.

"Don't make me force feed you."

Bakura growled softly. This girl was relentless. he looked back to her. "If I eat will you go away?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll eat the damn food."

Aré shoved the spoon in his mouth and smirked at him. "Good."

Bakura swallowed and pulled his head back. "There I ate, now leave."

"You only had one bite, there is no possible way you can be full."

"I said I'm done."

"Fine." Aré stood, tray in hand.

"Leave the tray."

"Why? You said you were full."

"Leave it, I'm still hungry. But you said if I ate, you would leave. I ate, now leave."

"You expect to feed yourself?"

"I'm pretty sure I can reach up on that table with my good arm. I'll be fine. Leave."

She smiled, placed the tray on the table, and pulled the table away from the cot just inches beyond the thief's reach.

Bakura glared at her. "Push the table back."

"No."

"You like being difficult don't you?"

"Don't you like a challenge?"

"And I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me."

"Well you don't seem to appreciate my hospitality."

"And what hospitalities are you showing him my dear?"

Aré whirled around, slightly knocking the table. "Lord Djal, I'm just…making sure he eats…sir."

Bakura quirked an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor. Where before she was playful and coy, she now was silent with eyes downcast and nervous movements.

"Has he finished?"

"No my Lord."

"Well I'm sure he can manage on his own."

Aré nodded. Bakura stared at her. Moments earlier he had insisted the same, yet she had insisted that he was not capable, even hassled him about it. Now she was in total agreement.

"Now, I wish to see you in my chambers."

"Yes Lord Djal, I'll be along in a moment. I just need to help him sit up and-"

"Now Arétut."

"Yes sir." She slightly bowed to him and exited the room.

Djal looked at the man he knew as Nakht. "You can manage on your own, can you not?"

Bakura nodded.

"Good. I think she's shown you enough kindness for one day." He turned about, quickly exiting the room, leaving Bakura with his conflicting thoughts.

Aré stood in the middle of Djal's room, arms wrapped around herself. She closed her eyes when she heard Djal enter, bolting his door. He came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and drew Aré back up against himself.

"You like him…do you not?" He brought his hand up, caressing her cheek. "Come now little Arétut. Answer truthfully. You have watched over him day and night since he came here."

"I'm only seeing that he gets well."

Djal spun her around to face him and drew his hand back as if to strike her. "Now now, I said truthfully my dear."

"Please stop. I-I-I do not like, I swear to Ra!"

He smirked and sent his fist forward, striking her in the face. She fell to the ground, trying to hold din her tears. Djal liked it when she cried, she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. But for all her effort Aré let out a single soft sob.

He kneeled down next to her. "Look what you made me do. My sweet Arétut, let me apologize to you." He grasped her shoulders gently, standing her up, and laced his arms around her.

Aré struggled like she always did, but as always she could not get loose.

"Really Arétut, after all these years you still struggle. Do you not like our playtime?" Not waiting for an answer, he brushed aside her hair and began kissing at her neck.

Aré fought with herself, keeping the disgust she felt hidden deep inside. How she hated this man. "No…I do not." She whispered into deft ears.

Bakura lay in the dark, eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched. He would not deny it any longer…he was in agony. There was nothing he could do to relieve his torture. If he laid on his right side his calf injury would get irritated, if he laid on his left side his shoulder and wrist would hurt, not on his back because of his shoulder and not face down in his pillow because of his eye. He could not even curl into a little ball and die like he wanted to. All he felt was liquid fire that seemed to course throughout his veins. Bakura would give anything right now to be unconscious again.

His idea was outrageous but it would work, and he had already lost a lot of blood, he would only need to loose a bit more. Bakura forced himself to open his eyes and drew his injured leg up. He reached down with his good arm and ripped the bandage away from his injury. He cursed to himself when he felt where the wound should have been. Seemed that Aré had stitched up the gash while he was unconscious. But he knew they would easily be broken, he had bled earlier from this very wound. All he would have to do was stress the thin thread. Bakura held his breath as he worked at the stitches, swallowing his screams as he broke each one, in turn re-opening his wound.

With his task complete and the blood flowing freely he closed his eyes once more. He soon would be relieved from his pain. Bakura knew he wouldn't die. It was only a few hours till dawn and then that girl would be back. He smiled as the world washed away and he slipped back into his sanctuary of unconsciousness.

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Tsuki: Who likes?

Bakura:…

Tsuki: You don't' count. R&R and tell me if you want more ^_^