Fate: gigglefit

Disclaimer: Not ours, not ours, not ours. Well, okay, we claim Monique, but who cares?

::chapter nine::

"Mokuba."

"Mnn...g'way."

"Mokuba!"

"Go away."

"Mokuba, where are they?"

"Dunno. You look."

"I can't, kid. You're asleep on the controls."

"Reeeh?" Mokuba lifted his head and blinked sleepily at Seto. "Oh. Niisama. Sorry." He yawned. "They're back...somewhere. Got in at dawn. They were pretty drunk. All over each other. You should've seen what they were wearing." Mokuba slumped back onto the table in the surveillance room. "What time is it?"

"Nine in the morning," Seto informed him. "How much sleep have you gotten?"

"That requires doing math," Mokuba complained.

Seto smiled and slid one arm under Mokuba's shoulders, then put his other arm under the teenager's knees. "C'mon. Let's go."

"I can walk," Mokuba muttered, struggling faintly.

"No, you can't," Seto replied, hefting the younger boy with relative ease. "How drunk did you get, pray tell?"

"Two beers early on," Mokuba replied. "Didn't want to get too drunk. Had to drive home, you know. Put me down."

"No," Seto answered, striding to the elevator. "Top floor," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," the elevator replied.

"I'm fine," Mokuba announced.

"You're hung over and you've had about two hours of sleep," Seto retorted. "That's not 'fine'."

"'m not hung over."

"Oh, hush," Seto said. "That's an order, otouto."

"Mrr. Fine. Whatever." Mokuba's eyes closed as the elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open.

Seto stepped into Mokuba's outer room and crossed to his brother's bedroom, kicking the door shut after him. He carefully put Mokuba down on his bed, then ran one hand through the boy's tangled hair. "Go to sleep," he whispered, sitting on the floor next to the bed.

Mokuba nodded slightly. "'rigatou, niisama."

Seto stayed there for a long time, listening to Mokuba's breathing and trying to control his racing mind.

Meanwhile, several floors down and across the mansion, Bakura woke up. That is, he managed to get up, close the curtains, curse the sun with a good deal of vitriol, and collapse back next to Ryou. Who, of course, smacked him on the back of the head with a muffled admonishment to not make so much noise or move around a lot. Bakura came to the conclusion that being awake was stupid, and promptly went back to sleep.

Several hours later, Bakura rolled over and opened his eyes. "Bloody hell."

"Shut up," Ryou moaned. "The fucking room is fucking spinning and you're fucking making it worse."

Ryou was not a morning person. Especially not when he was hung over.

"Groo." Bakura more or less fell off the bed. "Fuck."

Ryou slowly sat up. "You're not going to let me sleep, are you?"

"Mrr."

While Ryou was not a morning person, Bakura was just really incoherent.

"Blast," Ryou muttered. "There better fucking be painkillers," he added venomously. "Yami, if you don't get up, the shower is mine for the next hour."

Bakura very calmly reached out and grabbed Ryou's ankle, sending him to the floor. "You're sharing the shower or I'm not letting you up."

Ryou twisted to look over his shoulder and smiled. "Deal."

What, you didn't think Bakura would stop at being the luckiest person in the world last night, now, did you?

At two in the afternoon, Mokuba finished combing out his soaking wet hair. This was an ordeal that usually took about an hour, not counting washing time.

"It's times like these that I freaking envy niisama," Mokuba growled, padding over to the window and throwing it open. "He looks like 'tousan did. He looks normal. But no, I have to take after the woolly side of the family..." He turned and made a face at the mirror. "Niisama gets 'kaasan's complexion, 'tousan's hair, and all the freakin' brains. And I get the washed-out look, the woolly hair, and multivariable calculus." Sigh. "At least I got full marks in that." He stalked into his study and switched on his supercomputer. "Ohayou."

"It's afternoon," the computer said severely. "Where have you been all morning?"

"Asleep," Mokuba retorted. He pulled his knees up onto the edge of his chair and rested his chin on the joints. "Very asleep. Where's niisama?"

"Give me a minute to set up the connections," his computer snapped. "Or you could just take up residence in the surveillance room."

"Been there, done that," Mokuba shot back. "It's in the basement. I hate the basement. Any more sage advice for me?"

"Clothing might help," the computer suggested.

Mokuba looked down, then glared at the computer. "I am wearing clothing."

"Made you look," the computer replied smugly. "Besides, you can't call those clothes."

Mokuba examined his clothing again. Shorts. T-shirt. "What are you talking about?"

"Are those meant to be shorts?" the computer demanded. "I could've sworn they were knickers."

"Oh, toss off," Mokuba growled.

"Monique's at the door," his computer added helpfully. "Your brother sent her to check on you."

"What are you – ?" The knocking on his outer door interrupted Mokuba before he could finish. "You love jerking me around, don't you?" he added over his shoulder, skulking from the room.

"Mokuba-san!"

Mokuba snatched an overshirt from over the back of a chair and pelted through his rooms, heading for the outer door. "Coming, coming!" he yelled. As he hit the foyer, he tripped, went flying into the door headfirst, slapped the lock open, and fell on his ass.

"So I heard," Monique said, poking her head around the door. "Seto-san sent me to bring you painkillers."

"I'm not a lightweight," Mokuba groused. "Two beers does not a hangover make."

"I couldn't say," Monique said delicately. "I get totally smashed with one stiff drink," she added conspiratorially. She edged around the door and gave Mokuba a hand up.

"Are you in another one of those horrible costumes?" Mokuba asked, looking the older girl up and down. "Bloody hell. Is your skirt sticking straight out?"

Monique smoothed her skirt down as best she could, with two voluminous petticoats underneath it. "No."

"I suppose it would be a reasonable length if it wasn't standing on end," Mokuba mused. "Why oh why must you wear these clothes?"

Monique shrugged. "Your brother, of course. Why else?"

Mokuba got a sudden and very evil idea. "Moni-chan? Dearest Monique, light of my life?"

"Mokuba-san, I am four years older than you and you never butter me up unless you want something." Monique smiled wickedly. "Spill."

Bakura was lying face-down on the roof, listening to the most interesting conversation that could be heard from the window directly below him. He'd found his way onto the roof after a very...interesting morning. Yes. Interesting.

Ryou was now in search of a phone with which to call his father. Bakura had been in search of a patch of sun. He had stumbled upon not only somewhere really warm and sunny to go to sleep, but a good look into the inner workings of the younger Kaiba's mind. It was rather fascinating.

After the girl had left the room, Mokuba apparently went and started talking to himself next to the window. "Well. Now I've got the means to start my brother drooling over Ryou even more than he is, as well as blackmail information for just the opposite effect. Always be prepared. God, he's so stupid."

"No fucking kidding," Bakura called down.

"Hvwaaaaah!" There was a loud series of crashes following this startled yelp. "Ow..."

Bakura didn't bother to muffle his laughter. "Very elegant. Maybe someday I'll teach you how to rob tombs."

"Cute," Mokuba said, leaning out the window and looking up at him. "So what are you doing up there?"

"Being warm," Bakura retorted. "Nice plan you've got going. Humor your brother or blackmail him out of it. Pick and choose as the occasion calls for it."

"Exactly," Mokuba replied. "Thanks for coming back, by the way."

Bakura made a dismissive noise. "Everything's free here. At home we have to pay for food and stuff."

"And mortgage," Mokuba added.

"Oh, right," Bakura said thoughtfully. "That would be what got us into this mess. Who's in charge of mortgage stuff?"

Mokuba recognized this as a blatant warning sign. "Are you going to kill them?"

"Maybe," Bakura replied teasingly. "Solve our problems, wouldn't it?"

"You'd still have to get rid of niisama. And you can't do that," Mokuba told him.

"Sure I can," Bakura answered.

"Hey, you couldn't even off Yami no Yuugi," Mokuba retorted. "I place my brother higher than that wimp."

"You may have something there," Bakura acknowledged. "But the only reason the pharaoh fuckup is walking around alive is because the yadonushi would get all pissed if I killed him. And I try and avoid pissing off my hikari."

"Isn't that one of the contributing factors to your being here?" Mokuba asked.

Bakura scowled at him. "Well, sometimes it ends up in making out and raunchy sex."

Mokuba looked intrigued, sending Bakura into a near-gigglefit.

"Are you giggling?" Mokuba asked suspiciously.

"No." Snicker. "I don't giggle." Giggling-ish noise. "Unless it's evil giggling." Snerk. "I like you. You're interesting."

Mokuba felt an odd, prickly sensation sweep through his body. "Really now."

"Yep." Evil giggle. "My hikari likes you too. We might take you with when we leave." And to finish off the laughing fit, an evil mwaha. Ha. Ha.

"Didn't you already try that?" Mokuba demanded. A small frown crossed his face. "Twice?"

Bakura rolled over and counted on his fingers, lost in thought. "Oh yeah. Oops."

"Why am I always kidnapping bait?" Mokuba asked the universe at large. "I've been kidnapped four times, used as a bartering tool more times than I can count, had my soul sucked out and put back in, been hypnotized, been hit with a batsu geemu, nearly been attacked by my own Cap Monsters, and...well hell, I don't remember what else." Mokuba sighed. "Everyone always uses me to get to my brother. We have your darling baby brother, so do this. We have your kid brother, so do that. Pay us lots of money or we'll shoot your brother. Duel me because I kidnapped and knocked your brother out. Look what I did to your brother, I'm about to do it to you." Mokuba sent Bakura a variant on the evil eye.

"Hey, I'm sociopathic and disturbed. I'm not responsible for my actions," Bakura rattled off.

"Did Ryou-san teach you to say that?" Mokuba sniped.

Bakura blinked. "No, I just tell him that to piss him off."

"Ah." Mokuba wrapped a loop of hair around one finger. "I hate my hair," he said absently.

"You certainly have a lot of it for someone who hates it," Bakura observed.

"Okay, I don't hate it. But it's like having a sheep attached to my head," Mokuba complained. "A really big, uncooperative sheep."

Bakura looked confused. "Sheep?"

Mokuba racked his brains for a comparison that would make sense to someone who'd been raised in the desert and had been transplanted into a very large city. "Camel?"

Comprehension dawned. "Ooh." Assessment kicked comprehension out and decided to throw a party. "Oh. I see."

"I hate sheep," Mokuba announced.

"Have you ever met a sheep?" Bakura inquired.

"No. But they must be evil, if everyone at school teased me about having a big sheep on my head instead of hair," Mokuba replied.

"And you didn't beat them up why?"

"I did," Mokuba said proudly. "And then I made them all work for me later on when I got good at Cap Monsters."

Bakura thought on this. It made a decent amount of sense. "Cap Monsters is that game that's like chess, right?"

"Kind of," Mokuba said, leaning on the window thoughtfully. "You see, it's a game of luck and skill. Luck if you draw the right monsters, and skill if you know how to use them. Or skill if you can rig up the machine to give you the right monsters, and luck if your opponent doesn't notice," he added with a smirk. "I mean, with my older brother being who he is and all, I'm a damn good duelist, but I'm international champion at Cap Monsters," Mokuba added. "Is Duel Monsters your game too?"

Bakura shook his head. "Nah. We play Monster World. Duel Monsters has been around for a couple thousand years. It gets old if you don't take breaks to do something else. I'll make you a deal," he added.

"I'm listening," Mokuba answered.

Bakura smiled. "Cautious. Very nice. I teach you Monster World and you teach me Cap Monsters, and then maybe we'll duel."

Mokuba vanished from the window abruptly, then reappeared with a small machine and a board. "You have yourself a deal. Give me a second, I'll be right up."

"Bakura-san?"

Ryou whirled. "Don't scare me like that!" he yelped.

"I'm sorry," Seto apologized. "I, ah, wanted to discuss yesterday's events with you."

Ryou tilted his chin up and matched Seto stare for stare. "All right. Fine. Let's discuss it."

"There's a room on the mezzanine that will do," Seto said, starting up the stairs.

Ryou followed him warily. "So where's all the demand for my yami not to show up?" he finally asked.

"I figure it's inevitable," Seto replied, holding the door open.

Ryou stared at him for a minute, then inclined his head and took a step forward.

Seto smiled suddenly. "Unless I am the one taking precautions." He grabbed the Ring in one hand and flicked a knife out in the other.

"Don't!"

Seto tossed the Ring over the bannister with the knife hand and pushed Ryou into the room with the other. "Too late, Bakura-san."

Ryou stared at the closed door. /Yami? YAMI!/

Silence.

...oh no.

Fluffy: It doesn't make sense to us, but we are following the tradition of putting the maid in a really skimpy outfit. Said outfit will enter into things later. Oh, and does anyone remember the packing twine and eau de rose? Anyone?