-groans- Man, I don't feel good. I love steak... you know? And I like it so when you poke it, its still bloody. But eating a whole steak that way just is an unsettling thought for my stomach. Yah... And I did. So now... My stomach doesn't feel good. I wanna get done with this chapter so I can go lay down. -reads reviews- I take suggestions, not threats. Get that through your skulls. I'm not "pairing" pharaoh and our favorite tomb robber together. I'm just making pharaoh the antagonist who has a sudden lust for him, ok? Bakura shares no mutual feelings on the topic. In fact, Bakura wants to kill him. Or did you not read that?

December 11th, Saturday STILL - Noon.

A knock at the door. Bakura lifts his head up. He was hugging a pillow. He threw it across the room. Disturbing, he thought to himself. He sat up and pushed off the bed to the door. His hair was a mess, even more so than usual probably. Oh well, made his 'bat wings' stick up more. He reached the door, mentally cursing himself that when he opened it a blast of cold air would hit him. But he opened the door anyway...

...And got hit by a ball of snow in the face. He was shocked - no, stunned. He wiped it off his face fast and growled in heavy annoyance and shot a death glare at his next unsuspecting...

"Good afternoon, Kura."

...victim??

"MALIK!!!! Ra damn you to the ninth depth of hell!! What the hell do you want?"

The Egyptian teen crossed his arms and laughed, "My, my, look who slept in, grumpy."

"I. Did. NOT. Sleep. In. And what are you wearing?"

"Snow gear."

"Oh. No wonder you look like a large lavender marshmallow."

"Ha ha."

"Ch.. come on in, Malik. My light is not home."

"Oh?" he asked, heading into the house, "Bakura, your house is freezing..."

Malik took of his coat and piled it and his boots on the floor next to the door.

"Don't you guys have a working heater in here?"

"I wouldn't know, I haven't had need for one. Though... today is an exception, its damn cold out there now."

Malik nodded and grinned. He walked into the living room and pushed some more unpacked boxes away from some appliance... Must be the heater that Bakura had yet to realize of its existence. After moving all the boxes away he flipped it on.

"This, Bakura," he spoke as if talking to a small child, but it was all sarcastic, "Is the heater. Now how hot would you like it in here?"

"Oh I dunno... Hundred? Hundred and twenty?"

Malik shook his head and turned the heater up all the way, "If your house lights on fire, its not my fault."

"Ha."

Bakura sat down in the couch and crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in a rather relaxed looking position. Malik sat on the same couch at the opposite end, with his socked feet up on the couch in front of him. Its funny, Bakura thought to himself, how Malik seemed to show up at all the most annoying moments right when he was needed.

"Malik, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Hm?"

"Take pharaoh's memory back, and as soon as possible!"

Malik tilted his head in confusion; damn he almost looked cute when he did that, "What? I can't do that. The process has started, I can't undo anything. What's the problem?"

Bakura shook his head and stared up at the ceiling, "I was around back then, Malik. You should know that."

"So?"

"So I'm bound to wind up in his memories somewhere. And I know... exactly where I'll wind up. And I don't want him... remembering me."

"Why? So he doesn't have any more of a reason to banish you to the shadow realm for the fifth time?"

"No, you won't understand and I don't want to explain it to you... I just don't want him remembering my weak moments."

"Weak moments?" Malik grinned, "Hey I wanna see some of your 'weak' moments, too! That's not fair-"

"Malik."

"Huh?"

Bakura pulled his view of the ceiling away from his eyes and shifted to look at his former partner in crime, "I won't show you, but I'll tell you. Do you want the to the point version, or the blunt in your face version?"

Malik didn't exactly know what to say, the expression on Bakura's face was something he hadn't seen before. As if he were looking right into his very soul. And the soul of a madman always has reasons behind its corruption.

"Whichever you're most comfortable with?"

Bakura looked across the room, his eyes completely blank, "I don't really want to tell you. But I will because I have to tell someone and you're the only one who will listen..."

Now, to tell you, Malik and Bakura weren't the best of friends, and really, Bakura hadn't seen much of Malik since the end of Battle City. However, Malik did visit Bakura on occasion, and they still had stuff in common. Bakura had no one to talk to besides his host, which he refused to show any emotion to other than hate. But Bakura didn't hate Ryou, he just compared Ryou to himself. A younger, weaker him that would not have lived through the shit he'd been through. Malik was someone Bakura could talk to, and Malik would listen, and Malik wouldn't fly of the handle.

"It started along time ago, Malik. I was a tomb robber, remember, I've told you that... Well I was caught, and then... I was going to get the death sentence and get impaled or some such... But instead someone suggested I be..."

Malik listened intently, having no idea where this crazy story was going.

"I.. became pharaoh's pleasure slave," his face contorted, "and him, and not to mention Seth raped the hell out of me numerous times. I don't want the asshole to remember that. But he's already started to remember to."

Silence followed the previous statement. Bakura rolled his back and in Malik's direction. Malik's eyes were wide.

"No shit? And that's why you don't want him to remember anymore? Why didn't you tell me that before I went and helped him?"

"Maybe because I didn't know you, and barely remembered the fuzzy details myself. The point is, can you do anything about it now?"

The platinum blond Egyptian's expression turned to one of guilt, bordering on pity, "I can't. Sorry."

Bakura groaned and stood up and began to pace around the couch and the dinner table that hadn't been picked up yet.

"Oh, one more thing. Pharaoh talked to me today, threatened me to stop abusing my host."

"You do know I never approved of that, you should stop you know."

"Should. But what's the brat going to do if I start slacking off on him?"

"Hey, Kura, don't know how good a time is to say this but-"

Bakura's ears picked up the sound of returning chattering voices cluttering around the door. His hikari was home, and he brought Yuugi and the gang with him, how lovely.

"I'll be right back, Malik."

"Bakura wait."

Bakura turned around as he stopped in the doorway, "What?"

"Ryou's got some feelings for you. He told me. I think he'd forgive you."

"Ch, I don't want his forgiveness and I don't care an ounce for the boy. I'll stop, but only for my own benefit."

Bakura crossed the hall and opened the front door, revealed Ryou and Yuugi and the rest of the crew. And Yami. Bakura glared at Yuugi, who let out and "eek" and clung to his yami. Ryou looked up with fear that Bakura had not recently seen. Fear of what? Not of him, he'd done nothing worthy of boy's fear lately. Yami spoke up.

"Ryou limped as he ran up to us, said he tripped," the former pharaoh scowled, "I think you're to blame. He admitted so."

"Who's to say he wasn't limping from a previous injury? Butt out, pharaoh," Bakura shot back.

Joey piped up, "So, you're still to blame!"

Malik appeared in the doorway behind Bakura, glaring at everyone as well. Yami thought it unusual for Malik to be with Bakura, especially after the glare he just got from him. Malik pushed into the doorway, a smile plastered on his face as he pulled Ryou into the house gently. Ryou didn't resist.

"Come on in, Ryou, the heaters on and its nice and warm, and it looks like you had a long walk without a good coat," Malik brimmed with kindness, "Bakura, invite them all in, won't you?"

Malik looked at Bakura with that 'its all for the better' glance he'd somehow mastered recently as he lead Ryou into the living room. Bakura gritted his teeth.

"Sure. Why not," he blurted through his clenched teeth. He held the door open and watched as everyone filed in, glaring at anyone who had the guts to look at him.

As odd as this chapter was, its still six pages long, far longer than the previous ones. It was kind of sudden and blunt how I put everything and I sort of don't like how this chapter turned out. Hope you enjoyed though. Review because (respectful) criticism, ideas, and commentary are always welcome.