Authoress' Note: I have been instructed, on pain of death, to update by December the twenty-fifth. How could I possibly say no? ;)
The owner of the flower shop watched a brown-eyed teenager particularly carefully, making sure he didn't steal any of his precious merchandise. Bakura was beginning to chafe under the surveillance, so he nonchalantly grabbed the largest bouquet of red roses he could find and swaggered up to the counter. With mock sincerity, he asked, "What do you think? Do these say 'Thank you for saving my life, oh, and by the way, ditch the pharaoh and come with me'?" The old man's face didn't even have time to register confusion before his soul was ripped out of his body and deported to the Shadow Realm. Bakura indifferently stepped over the lifeless shell and headed out the door, flowers in hand.
By the second ring, Yami was on his feet, arm halfway extended to destroy the phone. Anything that interrupted time with his love deserved to have its atoms scattered. Tea shook her head, smiling, before answering. The mirth left her face as she realized who was on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Ryou. I'm sort of busy right now." Pause. "Ok, I'll give you a call when I'm free. Uh-huh. Bye." She placed the phone back in its cradle, taking more time than perhaps was necessary, then turned back to Yami. He regarded her carefully for a moment, and then asked, "Do you remember Bakura? From Egypt I mean, not Duelist's Kingdom." Tea chewed on a cuticle, trying to dredge up the information. Finally, she shook her head. "I guess I haven't thrown up enough to get that information yet." Yami fought to keep his face straight. The resultant expression was so adorable that Tea had to kiss him. A few minutes later, the couple composed themselves and the pharaoh began to explain Bakura's past.
~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~
The blinding sun and oppressive heat only increased the young king's annoyance and made him even more determined to see justice done as quickly as possible. The trial was being held outside to make of example of the accused. The thief stood before him, his hands and feet bound. He was charged with plundering the tomb of Yami's grandfather, and he did nothing to deny it. On the contrary, this Bakura had boasted of his triumph in every wine shop in the city. Unfortunately for him, the pharaoh's agents regularly frequented those shops and he was caught within seven days of the theft. Yami did not normally oversee every single case himself, but this one had been a personal affront to his family and he wanted to put things right. The trial was drawing to a close. The pharaoh was glad. The wind was beginning to pick up and he did not want to be caught in the middle of a sand storm. Bakura was given the option of a statement before he was thrown in prison. He shuffled up to the royal dais and Yami instructed his guards to allow it. Bakura serenely leaned up against the stone platform and said casually, "Your palace is quite lovely, my liege. As is your wife. Unfortunately, at the moment, I am only intimately familiar with one." The pharaoh had just opened his mouth to order the tomb robber executed then and there when a huge gust of wind kicked up the sand of the marketplace, effectively blinding everyone. When the air cleared, some minutes later, cut ropes were all that remained of Bakura. It would have been unbecoming for Yami, as pharaoh, to scream profanities at the wind, so he merely repeated them over and over in his head as he rode home. Tea's safety was his first priority and he doubled the guard around the palace that night as well as going to bed with a knife under his pillow.
~~~~End Flashback~~~~~
"That is all I know about him, except that he is dangerous. I don't know how he got the Ring, our Ring." Yami finished. Even now his blood boiled at the thought of Bakura sneaking around his home, spying on his wife. He suddenly noticed that Tea had gone rather pale and quickly said, "Why don't we adjourn to bathroom?" She, not trusting herself to speak, walked shakily to the toilet and promptly emptied the contents of her stomach into it. Yami gently pulled back her chestnut hair and waited for the retching to stop. At last, Tea pulled back, flushed the toilet, and immediately dug around under the vanity. She emerged with her prize: a liter bottle of Listerine. After taking a swig that emptied a great deal of the container, she spat and said, "I remember that night now. You didn't sleep at all." Yami looked at her with interest, "So my telling you things helps the memories come?" Tea shrugged and said, "I suppose so. But do us both a favor, for now, and don't tell me anything else. I'm getting kind of tired of not being able to eat anything without seeing it later." Yami smiled and led her back to the living room.
Bakura waited until Tea hung up her phone before he slammed his down. Then he took the roses off the counter and carefully placed them in the refrigerator to wait for another day. She was avoiding him, he could tell. He would have to move quickly, then, before she could refuse to see Ryou at all. Briefly, Bakura wondered why Tea would suddenly become wary of her friend. She had no reason to suspect the spirit of the Ring had possessed him again, not after the simian Tristan chucked the Millennium item into the woods on Pegasus' island. It had taken several nights of surreptitious searching on Ryou's part to find it again, but it had been worth it to silence Bakura's voice in his head. Bakura fingered the Ring, reliving the day he had stolen it; a day he still considered his finest moment.
~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~
The tomb robber expertly navigated the maze of tunnels and traps that were supposed to safeguard the recently buried pharaoh's eternal resting place. He relied on wit and experience; not stolen blueprints like some other thieves. They were the ones that usually ended up in the pits of crocodiles after becoming disoriented. Bakura hopped out of the secret access tunnel into the crypt of the pharaoh himself. Unlike the rest of Egypt, he welcomed the death of the god-king as a golden opportunity. He ignored the sarcophagus and instead moved to the tables around it; the stone lids were always impossible to move and more riches lay around the mummy than inside its wrappings. But something caught his eye, and Bakura turned back to the coffin. Instead of the huge outer casing that indicated several sarcophagi, this one was small. What was more, seven gold items rested on its lid. Intrigued now, the thief experimentally lifted the lid. It was empty. Bakura shrugged; he had only listened to the gossip on the street to find out where the tomb was, and he did not particularly care what had happened to the pharaoh. He turned his attention back to the gold and reached out to pick up an odd ring. Bakura would have taken more, but as soon as he reached for the pyramidal puzzle, a wave of fury washed over him. Bakura was not easily spooked, but even he could feel where he was not wanted. The last time he had sensed anger like this was when he had commented to Yami on his wife. Still clutching the ring, he climbed back into the tunnel and out of the tomb.
Later that night, in his grungy little room above an equally grungy tavern, Bakura appraised the golden object. It would probably buy him a nice house, and a couple of slaves as well. Bakura did not care about this. Occasions like this had come up before. He stole because he loved to do it, not because he needed the money. Busy devising ways to get the best deal out of his black market contact, Bakura failed to notice when the Ring began to glow strangely. Thus, it was not until his spirit was drawn into and imprisoned in the object that he realized anything was wrong.
~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~
Now that he looked back on it, being stuck in the Ring for five millennia had been a rather good thing for Bakura. Of course, he had been forced to watch as the tavern owner rifled through his belongings, stole his money, and sold the Ring. But that was a small price to pay for the new opportunities this age offered. At least now he had a chance of possessing the oh-so-desirable Tea. She had looked simply delicious on the floor. "Oh Ra, Ryou, I'm so sorry!" The girl was utterly irresist-………. Bakura's head snapped up and he tensed. "Since when does Tea say, "'Ra'"?" As realization dawned on Bakura, he seized a large knife and flung it into the wall where it stuck, quivering. "She knows!"