Haha! Look at me! Another chapter in record time! This is so much fun all of a sudden! I hope you continue to RxR because I love reading the responses I am getting! If Megan is reading these she should be loving this as well! Peace, love, and padded walls!

Little Malik had wandered into the park to find Bakura. The tomb robber had to have had more luck than he was. He looked ahead and spotted the thief knelt down next to his thrashed Yami (gasp) who was laying on his back with his purple orbs clasped shut and his breathing heavy.

Malik was unsure of what was happening, but he couldn't just stand and stare while Bakura hovered over his helpless Yami. He acted out without thinking and pushed the thief away. "You didn't have to beat him!" Malik blurted angrily as he gently touched Mariku's chest frenetically. It was obvious he had gotten the wrong idea by the way Bakura had been found just sitting there in the snow near Mariku.

"Bullshit, like I would thrash him for no reason," Bakura sneered. He watched tears form in the Hikari's broadened eyes. He knew that none of this was getting through to him. "Its just like you to do this to someone, Bakura!" he snapped back childishly.

Malik pulled Mariku close to his chest and released the tears that had built up in his eyes. "Stop hurting him!" He cried out. Bakura stood from the snow and turned away from the Mariku and Malik. "Fine…" He swept the snow from his black trench coat. "But you should know that it wasn't me. I wouldn't do this to him…" The weary tomb robber walked off and left Malik and Mariku in the crimson snow.

Malik had trouble, but he was able to pull Mariku onto his back and carry him home to the luxurious mansion. When they arrived home, a warm bath was drawn for Mariku to warm his frigid body and to wash away the blood stains that discolored his pale skin.

Afterwards, Malik bandaged all of Mariku's cleaned wounds whether they be tiny or immense in size. The Hikari had managed to dress his Yami in black boxers, white pajama pants, and a black tee shirt. All were made of silk which would make it more comfortable for Mariku. Once the sandy-blond was in bed, Malik quickly took his temperature to make sure he was all right before leaving him to rest.

Bakura came home to the sight of Ryou up on a ladder and cleaning. The job was nearly complete. Things were properly placed, spotless, and the house smelled of lemons and oranges. The strong scent was giving Bakura an awful headache already and he had just barely stepped in. Ryou climbed down from the ladder and wiped away a few drops of sweat streaming down off of his forehead. He was smiling and in the best of moods. "What the hell are you so happy about?" He inquired of the cheerful other. "Nothing, just happy today." Bakura removed his trench coat and handed it off to Ryou, who was baffled by the few bloodstains on the sleeves. He didn't bother asking what had happened and went to the laundry room to see if he could remove these stains.

Bakura dragged his heavy feet up the tall staircase and turned into his room. He collapsed onto his bed face first and took a deep breath, then releasing it along with his anger.

Mariku had awoken not long after Malik had left the master bedroom. He slid quietly out of his bed and hobbled over to his open window. It had begun snowing once again. The moon enhanced the beauty of the falling snow.

Bakura lifted his head from his sheets and looked out the window to see the snow falling. However, the snow was not the first thought on his mind. It was the way Malik looked at him. Also, the way Malik had accused him of injuring the sandy-blond. "That stupid Hikari, he doesn't know a damn thing….I wouldn't do such a thing to Mariku….Only if he came at me first," Bakura thought to himself.

In front of the brooding male, who was sprawled out on his bed with his face down in the sea of black silk, two purple orbs beamed from the shadows of a dark corner near the window. "Why were you in the park?" a voice whispered from behind.

"Your damn Hikari bugged me to help find you, Mariku," the robber replied softly.

"Could I ask you something, Bakura?"

The white-haired male arched a brow and looked forward into the dark corner. The fragile egyptian stepped half way out of the shadows and into the light of the moon beaming through the window. "What is it now?"

"Why did you kiss me?" Bakura's chocolate eyes focused on the rose sitting on his nightstand. "Does it really matter what I do or what I don't do?"

"Yes…" Bakura sat up and focused on Mariku this time. "Why?"

"I thought I had you completely figured you out. I thought that it could never happen between us-"

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Bakura interrupted. Bakura stood and gently pinned Mariku against the wall. His body was almost against Mariku's, and his face was not far off either.

"Because I damn well felt like kissing you. Do you have a problem with that?" He shifted one hand slightly which caused Mariku to flinch. Bakura rolled his eyes and a thin smile graced his deliciously soft lips(drooling). "I'm not going to hit you. Stop acting like that."

Mariku looked away and didn't dare look back. "Well, I have the answer I came for…I think. I should be go-" Bakura grabbed Mariku's face gently and forced the sandy-blond to look at him.

Bakura looked deeply into his eyes as he inched closer to the others lips. He kissed him furiously and passionately. Mariku's hands found their way to Bakura's wrists and gripped gently. The thief pulled back slowly and again fixed his eyes upon Mariku's softened features.

"Because I damn well feel like it…" Bakura repeated in a whisper. "O..Okay," Mariku stammered and blushed lighlty.