Emotional Decisions

In Which Malik Is Upset And Duke Is Repentant

Chronologically this story takes place about a week after Thief Of My Heart Chapter 3: Wonder

Stupid. How could she have been so stupid?

So stupid as to let Duke Devlin get that close to her.

And no, she didn't mean physically.

But she definitely should never have let him kiss her.

Even if it did feel wonderful…

Unconsciously, her fingers stroked across her lips as she relived the short, yet passionate kiss in her mind. It had been amazing, absolutely the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt in her life.

Not that she had all that many 'wonderful' things to compare it to. But she'd been able to believe – even if it was falsely – that for once in her life, someone other than her siblings cared about her.

Foolish, maybe, but then so was her reaction to the kiss. She'd run out of Devlin's house without any idea or inclination of where to go. By the time she was halfway across the city, Malik realized that her feet had unconsciously been taking her to Ryou and Bakura's house. Whenever she'd had a fight with Marik before, she'd gone there, seeing as how Ryou and Bakura were pretty much her only friends.

She furiously pushed aside the thoughts that Duke had become one of her friends. After all, friends didn't go around kissing other friends, now, did they?

Lovers, on the other hand…

Shaking her head, she shoved those thoughts into the little box in her head marked 'Here There Be Dragons,' which was where all her other thoughts about the dice duelist had been tucked. That way lay madness, and she already had enough insanity in her life with Marik. She'd prefer never to think about Duke in that context. Failing that, she'd put it off as long as possible.

Realizing where she was headed, she evaluated her situation and decided to continue to Ryou's house. After all, she'd promised Yugi she'd go to talk to them – and Ryou gave the best advice of anyone she knew – so she decided not to change course.

Her nervousness over how her friends would react had been buried under the turmoil Duke's kiss had caused. Her thoughts were running around like a hamster on a wheel, going over the same ideas over and over. So it wasn't until she was midway through the process of ringing Ryou's doorbell that she actually had time to think about his and Bakura's reactions to her changed state.

Lucky for her, or she might have run away.

When the door opened, revealing Ryou, Malik cringed. She had no idea what to say. She had no idea what to do. Hell, she had no idea what to think.

She definitely should have prepared for this.

Ryou blinked. "Malik?" he asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

Resisting the urge to cringe, Malik nodded. "Yeah, Ryou. It's me," she said tiredly.

"What happened?" Ryou asked, ushering her inside.

"Marik," Malik said succinctly, gratefully ducking inside the cozy coolness of the other hikari's house.

"Ah," Ryou said knowingly.

"Is Bakura here?" Malik asked nervously, twining one lock of platinum blonde hair around her finger. She stopped abruptly once she realized that she'd picked that habit up from watching Duke idly twirling his own raven locks.

Damn, she couldn't get the man off her mind no matter what she did.

But the real question was…did she want to?

Malik was simultaneously sure of the answer and afraid that it was, 'No.'

"She's at the library," Ryou reassured her. Giving Malik a measuring look, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Malik gave a brittle laugh. "No…I'm not." She tried to hold back her tears, but was unable to halt them. A few crystalline drops rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Damn hormones. That was the only explanation; an excess of estrogen rushing through her veins.

She refused to think that she was crying because of Duke Devlin.

"You want to talk about it?" Ryou offered compassionately.

Surreptitiously knuckling the tears from her eyes, Malik gave her friend a crooked smile. "That'd be good," she agreed.

And talk they did. For three hours. The first hour had been spent filling Ryou in on what had happened to her in the past three weeks: from Marik's rather explosive temper tantrum, to her storming out of the house and being rescued by Duke, to the kiss said dice duelist had given her not an hour before her arrival there.

The next hour was spent with Ryou playing Dear Abby.

It wasn't a very kind thought, but it still amazed Malik that a girl as butch as Bakura had ended up with a guy as feminine as Ryou.

Which worked out well for them; they balanced each other out in that respect, aside from being yami and hikari.

Not that Ryou was weak – who knew better than she that gender wasn't always an indicator of either physical or mental strength? – but where Bakura was aggressive, Ryou was passive.

Or, actually, now that she thought about it, Ryou was, in fact, passive-aggressive. He was willing to let Bakura take the lead most of the time, but not afraid to voice his opinions when it really mattered.

It was true what they said about opposites attracting, she guessed.

Malik refused to think about the fact that similar parallels could be drawn between her and Duke.

Mostly because she had a sinking feeling which side of the gender gap she'd fall on even if she were back in her true body. She knew she'd been on the edge of flaming before she'd been turned into a girl – pastel belly-baring shirts and tight leather pants aside, and okay, the gold jewelry and eyeliner could be excused as simply an Egyptian thing, but Ra, she spent more time on her hair than even Duke did! – and while she was nominally okay with that, that had been when she was male. This whole gender change thing had really done a number on her self-esteem.

What there was of it to begin with, anyway.

In any event, Ryou had definitely been the right person to talk to about her confusion, if only because he had gone through much the same thing with his own lover. Ryou could give her the benefit of his own experiences with Bakura to help Malik figure out what to do next. But Malik knew that if she really wanted good advice, she'd need to talk to her counterpart in this situation.

Malik had been compared to worse people than Bakura.

Speaking of said white-haired yami…

Bakura had arrived at the beginning of their third hour of conversation, and – after expressing her shock at Malik's situation and receiving an abbreviated explanation – she'd been there for the rest of it. Ryou had left when it became apparent that Bakura was the one Malik needed to talk to – without listeners.

Most people, when they thought of people who gave good advice, would not think of Bakura first. Or second. Or third.

Or even at all.

But Malik knew that she and Bakura were a lot alike in many ways. And if anyone could help her figure out her confusing feelings for Duke, it would be Bakura. Ryou had helped to clarify a few things about her situation…but Bakura could help her figure out what to do.

And how she felt about Duke.

Malik and Bakura were both notorious for not liking to analyze their feelings. Emotional bloodlettings were not their style. Physical ones, maybe, but…

It just goes to show that not all women like talking about their emotions, ne?

Any help Bakura could give her on that score would be…well…extremely helpful, if only because Bakura had gone through much the same thing when she first got together with Ryou. Ryou's information had been useful, but Bakura's point of view was what she really needed.

Of course, just because said advice was what she needed – and even wanted – didn't mean that she had to like it.

"You have got to be kidding!" Malik cried.

"No, I don't," Bakura said imperturbably.

"But…" Malik protested.

"You can't always choose who you fall in love with," Bakura interjected practically, though her tone was gentle. "And most people, if they could choose, wouldn't end up with the same person they have." She smirked, eyes darkening. "And they'd be that much worse off for it."

"Most people?" Malik repeated, having heard a slight emphasis on those two words. She sensed there was something more to the thief's words than was readily apparent.

Slanting a glance to the doorway through which Ryou had departed a few minutes ago, Bakura flushed slightly and remained silent.

"Ah," Malik said with new understanding. "You chose Ryou."

Bakura nodded, subdued.

"But you can't mean…" Malik objected, coming back to their original thread of conversation.

"Yes, I can," Bakura said firmly, unyielding as the door to a thousand-year-old tomb. "You love Duke Devlin."

Impossible… was Malik's knee-jerk reaction. But once she actually gave the theorem some thought, her feelings didn't seem so clear-cut. Or, rather…

I've always been of the mind that nothing is impossible. Improbable, unlikely, but never impossible.

Until now…

So let's just say that this is inexplicable, shall we? "Be that as it may, I didn't choose him," Malik argued.

A hint of a smile dancing in her eyes, Bakura agreed, "Not yet."

One Week Later

It had been pure insanity.

Well, maybe not pure insanity. More like insanity guided by rampant lust.

Duke winced as he replayed his actions of the week previous. After just telling Wheeler that he'd been a gentleman, not ten minutes passed before he practically mauled Malik.

Although…she didn't seem to mind that much. At least, to begin with.

Once the kiss ended, though…

Frowning in memory, Duke rubbed the only now-fading bruise on his shoulder. Once the kiss had ended, Malik had looked at him with an expression of complete and utter terror. She'd run off and, in her panicked retreat, she'd shoved him off of her, causing him to slam into the couch hard enough to leave a mark. She hadn't come back until that night, not speaking of where she'd been or of what had happened when she did come back.

Malik had been so skittish around him, he hadn't wanted to make her feel guilty, so he'd tried not to draw attention to his injury.

It had been a tense seven days since that Friday afternoon, Duke trying to make up for what was apparently either bad timing or just a bad move on his part, and Malik jumping like a scalded cat every time he came within ten feet of her.

Duke had tried more than once to apologize. Oh, not for kissing her, since he'd wanted to for three weeks – she was one of the most beautiful people he'd ever met, and he didn't just mean physically – but for…scaring her…as he had apparently done.

He hadn't thought anything could scare Malik. She'd lived with Marik, had been turned into a girl by said former dark spirit… If that hadn't really phased her, why should a simple kiss cause all this trouble?

Nonetheless, Malik was upset. And it was all his fault.

Duke had come to terms pretty quickly with the fact that he was attracted to Malik. Hair like spun gold, eyes that flashed like violet fire, a fashion sense that showed off a body that wouldn't quit, never mind what gender it was… Who wouldn't be attracted to Malik? But it was more than that; they fit together so well, had so much in common… Guy or girl, it didn't really matter, since it was the Egyptian's indomitable spirit that enflamed him.

And he was bisexual, so it wasn't like the future change in gender back to her normal male state would bother him all that much.

One of the things Malik had revealed in her short stay was that she was bisexual as well, leaning towards the gay end of the spectrum. Hell, the club they'd 'met' at was gay-friendly.

Duke found it ironic that Malik could probably get any guy she wanted now that she was a woman.

She could definitely get him. But did she want him? That was the question on his mind.

And inexplicably, for once in his life, Duke had no clue. He didn't know how Malik felt about him – obviously, because he'd thought she liked him, too, but if she did, then why did she run off? – and he didn't know what he was going to do about that.

He wished he did. On both counts. And he wished he knew what he could do to get her to trust him again.

Love.

The word resounded through her head, mocking her with its simplistic complexity.

How could anyone love her?

And why did Ryou seem to think Duke did, when all she had evidence of was lust on the dice duelist's part?

Sighing, Malik flopped back on her bed – well, on Duke's guest room bed – and thought back to the conversation she'd had with the other yami/hikari pair a week previous.

Ryou thought Duke felt something more than just transitory lust for her. He thought Duke would never have made a move on her in her quote-unquote 'vulnerable' state if it were just a physical thing. Malik had to agree that Duke was pretty much the gentleman he'd touted himself to be. He most likely wouldn't have approached her at all if it was just lust. That plus the fact that he'd waited until he knew her better seemed to give weight to Ryou's supposition.

Still… Love? After only three weeks?

But…even if Ryou was overestimating Duke's feelings…Bakura thought Malik felt much the same for Duke; that she actually possessed real romantic feelings for him.

While Malik would admit, if only to herself, that she'd had a thing for the dice duelist from the moment she first saw him… Love?

Malik groaned and buried her head underneath her – or, rather, Duke's – pillow. All this thinking was giving her a headache.

And the subject matter was giving her heartache, she thought gloomily.

Love? Maybe…

But what was she going to do about it?

Hours later, the sun had set on Domino City, and Malik was no closer to figuring out a solution to her problem than she had been when she started.

Of course, it might have helped if she could stop seeing Duke's feelings for her as a problem…

Nevertheless, night had fallen, and she was still as confused as ever on what to do.

Her stomach rumbled and she corrected her thoughts. She was confused about what to do about Duke. Luckily, she wasn't confused about what to do right at that exact moment in time.

She needed a snack.

Grumbling to herself, Malik stood up and exited her room, after first peeking outside to make sure Duke wasn't anywhere near. She saw that his bedroom door was closed, the light out, so she presumed he was asleep. Thinking fleetingly of going over to knock on the door before discarding the idea, Malik descended the stairs, keeping her bare feet cat-quiet so as not to wake her host.

Though the thought of purposely making a lot of noise just so he'd wake up had crossed her mind. Even if he yelled at her, at least they'd be talking. She missed hanging out with him, missed talking with him about anything and everything under the sun, missed hearing his voice…

Malik wasn't sure how she and Duke had managed to get through a whole week without exchanging more than forty-two words – and yes, she was so unhappy with their change in circumstances (and so far gone over Devlin) that she'd counted – but they had.

She didn't know what to do. She wanted to make up with Duke, but that would require explanations on her part. Explanations she wasn't sure she was capable of giving, letting alone wanted to.

Shafts of moonlight slanting through the windows gave her just enough illumination to see where she was going. The kitchen had no windows, however, so when she reached the periphery of it, she chanced to flip on the light switch, hoping the sudden brightness wouldn't alert Duke to her presence.

Though, why should it? she asked herself. He's upstairs, the kitchen's downstairs…no way he could see it.

And even if he could, he's asleep; the little amount of light that he might get up there wouldn't be enough to wake him up. He sleeps like the dead.

Satisfied with the conclusions she'd come to, Malik got out the kettle and filled it with water in preparation for making herself a cup of tea. It could brew while she was fixing herself her snack.

Opening the refrigerator door, Malik peered inside its chilled depths, rummaging around to find something appetizing. Leftover lasagna – vegetarian, of course – assorted fruits and vegetables, a half-finished can of tuna fish – seafood being one of the few meats Duke indulged in – and the fried rice and lo mein left over from last night's Chinese takeout.

Grabbing the white boxes of Chinese food, Malik grabbed a fork and ladled the noodles and rice out onto a plate, setting it in the microwave to heat for a minute.

Five minutes later, she was sitting down to a sizzling plate of starches and vegetables, a steaming hot cup of tea, and more thinking.

Ruminating over her problems while she chewed, Malik still didn't know what to do by the time she had forked up the last bite of sautéed noodles and drained her second cup of oolong tea.

Sighing, she gathered up her dishes and rinsed them off, sticking them in the half-full dishwasher. Pouring herself another cup of tea, she leaned back against the kitchen wall and brooded.

What to do?

She had no clue. She could just wait until morning, come down to breakfast and start talking to Duke again, hoping he would let things go. But she knew that – even if Duke would be willing to go along with ignoring the events of this past week – that would only be a temporary solution, at best.

She groaned and pounded her head gently against the wall at her back. Why me? she thought.

Heaving a sigh, she opened her eyes and froze.

Duke, wearing nothing but a pair of black track pants and a T-shirt, was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Looking at her with an expression of tentative hope.

For long moments, they just stood there, facing each other, a weighted pause encompassing the entire room, hanging heavy in the air like invisible smoke.

Finally, when the silence had started to grate on Malik's nerves, Duke spoke. "I'm sorry," he burst out.

"You're sorry?" Malik asked dumbly, brow furrowing slightly.

"For scaring you," Duke clarified, one arm coming up to rub the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to."

Scaring me? Yeah, right… Malik scoffed silently, her gut reaction being to deny any such weakness. Even if it is slightly true. A mulish expression crossing her face, Malik protested, "You didn't scare me, Devlin. Nothing scares me." But the anxious glint in her eyes gave away the lie in her words.

"For surprising you, then," Duke grumbled. "Whatever it was I did that made you run off."

"You kissed me, baka," Malik hissed. "Or is your headband on so tight it's cutting off the circulation to your brain and making you lose your short-term memory?"

Anger flashed in jade-green eyes. "Normally when I kiss people, they don't run away like the hounds of hell are at their heels," Duke groused.

Malik flinched and closed her eyes. Hounds of hell indeed… Try shadows of old fears. Father, if you weren't already dead, I'd kill you.

I must remember to thank Marik for doing it for me. I don't think I could have taken the stress at age eight. "I don't…" Malik trailed off, obviously discarding what she had been about to say in favor of remaining silent.

"You don't what, Malik?" Duke asked, his demand at odds with his gentle tone. "You don't kiss people? You don't kiss guys?" A teasing smile came over his face at the last question. "You don't want to admit you ran like a scared bunny rabbit?"

Bunny rabbit?! How dare he?

And I wasn't scared, she thought, pouting mentally.

Her face fell. More like completely, utterly terrified.

Malik glared at him heatedly. "Many phrases have been used to describe me, Devlin. 'Scared bunny rabbit' is not one of them."

Duke just cocked a raven brow.

Malik sighed and, leaning back against the wall, fiddled with her teacup. Heart in her mouth, she thought, Here goes nothing… "I don't trust…people…easily," she said at length. "And you…startled me. No one's ever…" She cut herself off, turning away from Duke's penetrating gaze.

"No one's ever what?" Duke prompted gently. "Kissed you?"

No one except Isis or Rishid, Malik thought gloomily. But he doesn't need to know that.

However, he does need to know the truth. He deserves to know the truth, she thought, sighing inwardly. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and set her cup down, wanting her hands free for the inevitable confrontation.

Just in case.

"No one's ever wanted me," she said in a rush. "Not like that. Not like…more than just a one-night stand." She bit her lip, abashed at her own audacity. I've had plenty of women and men give me the once-over before…but it was never anything more than just momentary lust.

I want something more… she thought yearningly.

With Duke, came the unbidden, inexplicable final words of that thought.

"I do," Duke said softly, sincerely.

"You do?" Malik asked hesitantly. Does he really? Want me? Childish psycho yami, scars – both mental and physical – emotional baggage and all?

"You're everything I've ever wanted," Duke mumbled, flushing slightly at the admission. Tentatively reaching out with one hand to clasp hers, a flicker of relief went through his eyes as Malik accepted it.

"Are you sure?" Malik had to ask. This all seemed too good to be true. Only the fact that this past week had actually happened – however confusing, heart-rending and anxiety-inducing it had been, it was real, and she never would have dreamed up anything as bad – gave her courage to think it wasn't all a lie.

That Duke's words weren't lies.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," Duke said, every word filled with honest sincerity.

Eyes suspiciously bright – damn those hormones, she hadn't cried like this since her Tomb-keeper's Initiation – Malik said, voice ragged, "All right. I…I trust you, Duke."

Duke's smile dawned like a sunrise over his face, brightening up the whole room. It wasn't the declaration of great emotion that he'd had been going for…but it was real. And that was worth more than any amount of romantic prose. "Thank you," he said softly, pulling her into him by their still-clasped hands.

He leaned down until their lips were only a breath apart, eyes half-lidded as he waited for her to close the gap.

Here goes nothing…and everything. Taking a deep breath, Malik did so.