A/n: Well, after my long rest I'm back, hide your selves! Cause this fic gonna get . . . um, rather not say. Usually I interview the characters for their opinions in my a/ns, but now they'll be used as recap or answers to burning questions. That way I won't open my big mouth anymore . . . anywho, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own ANYTHING!! Sob . . .

% Chapter Nine: Duel of Truth %

Serenity woke to the sensation of being strapped to a gurney; muttering, excited voices all around and a vaguely nauseous feeling. Recognizing one familiar face of the crowd, she asked faintly, "W-what . . happened . . . ?" What's going on?

"You've fainted," Kaiba said, his voice sounding blurry and hurried to her disoriented state. "Going . . .to the hospital . . . . -'bye, love. I'll be by soon. . . . . " He gave her a quick kiss goodbye as she heard the door being loudly slammed shut.

"Hospital?!" she said in alarm, now panicking as she was gently pushed back down again to a siren's wail. But I hate hospitals . . . and he knows that! Why would he send--- Recollections started to fill her mind . . . . Joey proposing, what he had said about her, the reporters, a hard tug at her arm as she fell . . .

Seto's probably handling the reporters . . . . Serenity sighed, pressing a hand to her cheek, not really sure why she was worried about that, of all things . . . . They must've had a heyday if they caught me fainting . . .we aren't the most incognito couple! Plus, if my suspicions are correct . . . about why I'd fainted . . . . that'd be the worst thing to happen right now! She felt suddenly sick to her stomach, and turned her head to the side.

"Miss? Please, stay still." Said a ambulance attendant, guiding her head back.

"I'm gonna . . puke," she breathed thickly, feeling hot and cold at the same time, as the vehicle jolted and rumbled down the highway.

"Oh no! Don't!" the man said rapidly. "Here, I give you a sedative . . . . .that'll help." He administered something to her arm.

No, that won't, she thought glumly, as she fell in a deep sleep.

%%%%%%

"Honey, make sure to bundle up, it's chilly out," Mai called, fixing her own beige cashmere scarf around her own neck, then gathered up her keys in her purse with a metallic clink. It was very nearly wintertime, but it might as well have been the middle of summer at her cottage, the way she felt today.

Predictably Joey came out to the front porch, with no scarf. "What'd ya say?"

Suppressing a not so hidden smile, Mai automatically unrolled a brightly-colored scarf and started to tie it around him. "Nothing. Are you ready to go?" She jerked her chin to the main house.

"You bet. . . hey, you don't mean . . . . " With a sigh, he stood back in one leg. "Not them, again?!" he said, making a face like a little kid going to the dentist.

"I have to take my leave," she said bluntly, fixing the knot at his throat, while avoiding his eyes.

"But . . . oh, all riiiight." They headed off to the main house, where the butler nodded at them, and rang them in.

Mai made it a point to take his hand when she heard her mother's distinctive clicking earrings, and the tap of her father's cane. She planned to tell them the 'exciting' news, but wasn't expecting any miracles. He was counting on no miracles.

"Mai . . . dear?" Mrs. Valentine floaty voice said faintly. She was dressed in her expensive silk robe, but her hair and face was perfectly made up. Far be it to look messed up . . . .the reporters might see, thought Mai warily. Best make this quick and painless.

"Mother, I am taking my leave," she said formally, resisting the urge to bow. Or curtsy . . .

Her father was dressed in much as the night before, smiled and nodded. He had always been her favorite of her parents, spoiling her mercilessly when she was young. But he was weak when under her mother, who bossed him around.

"Good-bye, Daddy," she said softly.

"Nice to meet you---er, um, ahem." Mr. Valentine cleared his throat when his wife shot him a glare. Mai braced herself.

"Mai, dear, I have something to show you," her mother took her aside, speaking in hushed tones.

"I don't want to hear it. Only 'goodbye' from you." Mai said firmly.

"But---" Her mother played the victim. "We ran a background check---on him---"

"I said, I don't want to hear it, Mother." Mai said, her eyes turning steel while the older lady clasped her heart as if a knife been plunged into it. "Joey and I are engaged now," she went on, turning her chin up, "and you will show him respect. Got it?!"

Her mother uttered a sound that sounded like a hoarse scream, darting from her husband to the boy, to her daughter. "Hiram, did you hear--did--you--hear---"

"Yes," said Mr. Valentine sternly, " and you will not use that tone of voice to your mother, young lady." But Mai could see him pass a hidden wink to her. She smiled, grateful.

Meanwhile, Joey was grinning at her in admiration. She met her eye, smiled, and they both turned back to her folks.

" . . . forbid it, do you hear me, Mai?" Her mother was crying, gasping in fact, as Mai nudged him and they both turned away to the huge, Venetian crystal doors. "---besides, I thought you'd never marry . . . anyone who hasn't beaten you--at that---at that---" more splutters, quite unladylike. "Card game you always play!"

This made her freeze in mid step. Joey looked at her questioningly, and Mai turned back. "In fact," she said loftily to the lady, "he . . . has beaten me at that game, Mother. So there."

I can't believe she said that. She must really hate her. Joey knew Mai's pride never let her admit to anyone that he had beaten her at Duel Monsters, so saying that, especially to her ma, really showed some guts. He looked to see what the witch would say to that.

"I . . . don't believe you," the lady faltered. "You swore to never let a man beat you--!"

"No, I swore that I'd always win," Mai corrected, looking away.

Well, that sounds more like her, at least.. . ..

"Well, there's only one way to settle this," said Mr. Valentine in the silence that followed. "Come this way, the both of you!" he yelled for Mrs. Valentine's benefit. Wordlessly, they did so, not sure of what to expect.

Mr. Valentine led them under archway after archway, each one grander than the preceding one. Finally, they arrived to the east wing. The east, east wing. It seemed that each cardinal point had their own wings. There, in a darkened room, Joey could barely make out a lump of forms; the air was cold and ethereal like, an a faint whooshing of air. He had the sudden vision that this was an icebox, an they planned to shut him in there.

But instead of pushing him in, the old man simply reached down at his cane and pressed a hidden button, and the lights flicked on. It was a dueling arena, but unlike the regular ones, which only compassed half the room, it encompassed the whole room.

Despite herself, and the situation, Mai stepped forward, eyes awed. I haven't been to this part of the house in a long time! "I heard about this! The new arena! When did you install it, Daddy?"

"The past summer," Then, at his impatient wife's look, he went on, "Anyway, down to business . . . . if you can beat my daughter at her own game, young man, you will have both of our blessing, isn't that right, Miriam?"

"What are you talking about! She would let him win, just out of spite!" protested his wife.

"Maybe so," said the old man, "But I believe her pride wouldn't let her as a duelist. Besides, I haven't seen her in such a long time. . . . it is a good test."

"Fine, you're right," said the old lady reluctantly. But inside she was thinking, Even if this boy does win, they haven't seen the last of me yet! Not by a long shot, buddy!

%%%%%

"Hey, T!" A sharp nudge poking at her ribs.

Tea opened her eyes and sat up. She was in the middle of a pile of garbage, strewn about, on the dusty floor of the Game Shop. Painful sunlight poured in like laser beams through the curtainless windows. Must've . . . fell . . asleep . . . . She looked up to see Mokuba staring down at her, with an eerie expression.

"Eee!" she squeaked hoarsely, but he did look scary. "Sorry . . . " she apologized, not really sure why. People didn't just sneak up on people like that. Tea stood, dusting off grime from her jacket. "Where 's . . . .?"

"Yugi's with Rebecca," Mokuba confirmed, slyly.

"What are YOU doing, still here?!"

"BB didn't pick me up." Mokuba seemed proud of that fact.

" 'BB'? " Ohh . . . 'big brother. . . . ' "Never mind." Tea said quickly, going into the old kitchen for something to consume. "Yugi's with . . .Rebecca, you said?"

"Yep. Jealous?" he said.

"No!"

"Thought not," he said easily.

The matter of fact tone took her off guard. " Okay," she said vaguely, keeping an eye on him, case he should try anything funny. But he had a glimmer of his old earnest self. "Why didn't Kaiba come to pick you up . . ?" She deliberately changed the subject.

"Who knows. I don't mind though. Used to it." Mokuba shrugged, moved a little ways to her left, then grinned widely. "But he'll get his comeuppance--!"

"W-what did you mean?" Tea was vaguely interested in that, not having like Kaiba since the first time they'd met. The though of getting what was coming to him insterested her greatly.

"Just that," said Mokuba mysteriously, with a very Kaiba-like smirk in his still-tiny face. It was the only thing vaguely reminiscent that Tea remembered. Then, as if she'd pressed him, he went on, "I'm planning to give him a taste of his own medicine . .. soon," he said proudly.

"W-why . . .are you telling me this?" Tea asked, nervously eyeing him.

"Well, you hate him just as much," Mokuba pointed out. "So I thought you'd like to know. My reprisal," he added as if she'd demanded, Know what?

Tea paused. She didn't like revenge. There was a beat of silence. "Go on. . . . . " Then again, there is always exceptions . . . .

TBC

A/n: Uh oh, Tea and Mokuba in cahoots? Meh, betcha didn't expect that. What are they planning ? Ooh, ooh, guessers what? I'll be starting a new J/M fic. It'll be sorta dark, though. Anyway, please R&R or I'll start saying too much. Again.