Authoress' Note: This week's computer problems were merely deranged instead of completely insane.
Bakura kissed Tea with more intensity, moving his tongue impatiently against hers. She began to respond, pulling him closer against her. The spirit of the Millennium Ring drew back a little and rested his forehead against Tea's. Her glorious eyes were closed to him now, but she still did not pull back. Bakura realized that his breathing had become ragged; he was starting to find it tiresome to resist his teenage host body's hormones. He smirked. Why should he? Bakura was unable to resist the temptation to vaunt his prowess, so he decided to drop in on Ryou.
As soon as he entered the Ring, Bakura could tell that something was off, but to his considerable aggravation he was unable to identify what it was. Then he understood; the palpable stench of fear that normally hung in the air when Ryou was caged had dissipated. It was replaced with an unambiguous aura of lust. The spirit looked around, half bemused, half intrigued, before spotting his light propped up against the wall. His eyes were half closed and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Bakura had to clap a hand over his mouth in order to stifle the laugh that threatened to surface. He moved along beside the boy and nudged him lightly in the ribs with his foot. Ryou languidly turned his head to unabashedly return the spirit's questioning gaze. It was Bakura who broke first and he said, "You're enjoying this." It was a statement, not a question, but the currently not-so-innocent one nodded anyway. This time Bakura did not hesitate to snicker. He had, of course, known of Ryou's furtive desire for his blue-eyed friend due to the innumerable nights of erotic dreams he had been privy to. But never had Bakura thought that he would be able to exploit the feelings in his plan; Ryou seemed far too naive. Now the spirit savored the possibilities the divulgence imparted. "We're going to have some fun." he said as he faded.
Tea screamed at herself to slap Bakura, claw his eyes out, break his wrist, anything to get out of the embrace that she sank into with such disturbing ease. She flitted back and forth between loving Bakura's touch and hating herself for loving Bakura's touch. She opened her eyes to find her seducer staring back at her with a shadow of a smile haunting his lips. He lowered his mouth to hers once more, then stood and held out his hand. Tea took it, any thought of resisting him promptly deserting her. Bakura lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom she had vacated only a few hours earlier. He gave the hole in the wall an affectionate glance as he passed, but his goal was clearly the bed. As before, Bakura gently placed Tea on top of the blue and gold bedspread, but this time he settled himself on top of her instead of leaving. He had just begun his assault on the pale skin of Tea's neck when a disruption manifested itself in a most mundane way.
It had been a simple matter to track the thief to this decrepit part of the city. What would not be so easy was the next part of the strategy. Yami and Yugi had concluded that the more complicated the plan, the greater the chance of failure. So the pharaoh did not parachute in from seven thousand feet, nor did he drive a tank onto Bakura's lawn and demand Tea back. He rang the doorbell. Every muscle in Yami's body was tensed, but he remained outwardly phlegmatic. It took longer than he would have liked for a rather ruffled and irritated Bakura to open the door. It was all he could do not to wrap his hands around the tomb robber's throat and shake until he was dead, but he restrained himself and merely glowered at Bakura as he pushed his way inside.
Bakura had expected the Yami to react swiftly to his provocation, but he was unprepared and incensed when he showed up when everything was finally coming to fruition. "Do you mind, pharaoh, we were in the middle of something important." he sighed. Yami's fist connected with Bakura's face before he realized it was coming. The spirit of the Ring slammed back against the wall, his split lip pouring crimson blood into his white hair. The spirit of the Puzzle absently cradled his bleeding knuckles; he hardly felt the twinge. He loomed over Bakura, glaring maliciously. "You're perfectly welcome to chop me into tiny pieces, but then what would poor Ryou do?" Much as he Yami hated to admit it, he had a point. He forced himself to back away and allow Bakura to climb to his feet. "You know why I'm here," Bakura shook his head. "Could you be anymore cliché?" The rage threatened to overtake Yami yet again, but he continued. "and I know why you want Tea. Wouldn't it be that much more gratifying for you and humiliating for me if we let her decide?" Bakura was not one to reject a scheme with merit casually, even if it was the brainchild of his nemesis. The idea seemed sound, but the spirit of the Ring still had his doubts. "You seem terribly confident that she's going to pick you." Yami just shrugged. Bakura fingered his wounded lip. At length he said, "All right. I agree."
The pharaoh was ill equipped to deal with the wave of emotions that overtook him as Tea descended the stairs. He had to turn his head away and close his eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. The woman who had once been his queen looked nervously from him to Bakura, uncertainty masking her features. In spite of the blood spattered across his face and clothing, Bakura was the only composed one in the room. He quickly explained the situation to Tea.
"So, my dear, which one of us will it be?"