Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh, as always, does not belong to me. It, like all the other series that may make cameos within this piece of fiction, is the property of its respective owners, and as such, I claim no rights to the characters. The writing, however, is my own, and I do claim rights to that.

Author's Notes: A present for Lady Jia, as always. Merry Christmas, m'dear, and may you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

-----
Yu-Gi-Oh!
Blue Eyes White Christmas 2
aka
Revenge of the Seto
-----

Maximillion Pegasus…was happy.

Very happy, in fact.

Everything was going absolutely beautifully: his company was booming with business, he was developing an enormous fan-base of impersonators, and best of all, it was almost Christmas! The usual preparations were, of course, being handled by Croquet—addressing all the invitations, working on decorations, and the like—and now it was finally time to personally record each videotape invitation.

He'd decided he would record Kaiba's invitation first this year, and this time ensure that he gave the starting time of the party as being an hour later than it really was. That way, when Kaiba tried to arrive early and spoil his plans, he would actually be right on time. Oh, the fun of manipulating people's lives!

Pegasus rubbed his hands together, picking up a glass of nonalcoholic fruit juice before proceeding into his office and taking a seat in his overstuffed business chair. Perfect. Everything was going exactly as planned.

…And then he saw the small, pale blue envelope resting right in the middle of the neat piles of paperwork on his desk.

Pegasus frowned. There were no mentions of small blue envelopes in his master scheme. What could such an envelope be doing on his desk, interrupting all of his plans? How did it get here? Had the Pastel Mafia finally tracked him down?

Inwardly, Pegasus made a mental note to have Croquet find out whether or not there really was such a thing as the Pastel Mafia, and if so, exactly what grievance they had with primary colors.

What horrors awaited him by opening this small, pale blue envelope resting so mockingly in the center of his desk? Perhaps it was laced with poison…or filled with toxic gas…or even—horror upon horrors—filled with falsified records of unpaid taxes!

At this terrible thought, Pegasus paused a moment in his musings and said a silent word of prayer to Al Capone, patron saint of well-dressed gentlemen hunted by the IRS, and may he protect the businessmen of the world from ever suffering such a fate.

The envelope remained on his desk.

Oh, of course, he could call Croquet and inquire as to how such a envelope—a pale blue envelope, no less—had gotten onto his desk in the first place, but he had just given Croquet the very difficult task of dusting out the bottomless pit beneath his duel arena, and it seemed very ungrateful to call him all the way back just to have him perform so mundane a task as opening a pale blue envelope. It was the Christmas season, after all.

Well. There was only one thing to be done, then.

Maximillion Pegasus rose from his chair, fixed the small blue envelope with his most defiant glare, and then turned and strode purposefully to the bathroom.

When he returned, the envelope was still sitting on his desk. Perfectly harmless…or so it wanted him to think!

That thought made Pegasus stop a moment. Now the envelope was developing its own personality traits? Well, he decided, if an envelope had personality traits, then that therefore made it a person. And if the envelope was a person, it was therefore inferior to Maximillion Pegasus. And therefore, being inferior, it was no threat whatsoever.

Gleeful at the victory over the peon that was that pale blue envelope, he snatched it up and slit it open with his favorite Toon Bickuribox letter opener, smiling broadly. He was still the ultimate game master.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, as the case may have been—no poison dust or toxic gas emerged from the torn blue envelope. Instead, a pretty invitation embossed with a silver border tumbled out and landed on his desk. Frowning, Pegasus put down his adversary the envelope and picked up this new challenge to his authority, fully prepared to face whatever terrible schemes it may reveal.

The front of the invitation was midnight blue and decorated with silver stars, beneath which lay rolling hills of white and a prettily decorated Christmas tree in the center of it all. Such elegance! This could mean nothing but trouble.

Drawing a deep breath, Pegasus steeled his nerves and opened the card, his eyes flickering over the stylish writing within.

There was silence all through the castle for a long, long moment.

Having just climbed his safety rope for over an hour, Croquet was roughly a foot away from the top of the bottomless pit when Pegasus screamed. Startled, his grip nearly faltered and plunged him all the way back to where he started, but Croquet hadn't lived to be sixty years old and still working in Pegasus's castle without developing fast reflexes and nerves of steel. Quick as a wink, he shoved off from the sleek metal walls of the pit and swung himself up in a wide arc, coming to rest on the surface floor a few feet away from the pit a moment later.

Yanking off the safety harness, he sprinted to his employer's office, ready for whatever horror might await him there. With Pegasus, one just never knew…

But when he arrived, all he saw was Master Pegasus, holding a pretty blue card at arm's length and looking like he was about to burst. Stifling a smile, Croquet momentarily entertained the thought of the man turning green and going on a rampage throughout the castle…until he realized that, should such a thing happen, he would probably get stuck cleaning it up. With that in mind, he decided it was in everyone's best interest to quell his master's anger as fast as he could.

"What is it, sir?" he asked, stepping forward.

Pegasus turned, his eyes wide and full of hatred. "Do you know what he's done!"

"Who, sir?"

"Kaiba-boy!" Pegasus spat, hurling the invitation at Croquet, who caught it effortlessly and opened it up to skim the contents. "How dare he! I'll get him for this! I will have my revenge!"

Croquet blinked behind his sunglasses. "He's…invited you to a Christmas party, sir."

"Not just any party, Croquet. A Christmas party on the same day as mine!"

-----

At about the same time Pegasus was letting loose his unholy screech of rage, Seto Kaiba leaned back in his chair and allowed himself a look of smug satisfaction. Everything was going perfectly, and this year it would be Pegasus suffering the humiliation of attending his business rival's Christmas party, and not the other way around.

After a long, long moment of silence and superiority, Seto decided his most recent pursuits warranted the ultimate in victory celebration. He promptly locked the doors, shut all the windows, and dimmed the lights in the room—no one could ever lay eyes upon what was his most closely guarded success ritual. There must be complete secrecy. Then, and only then, could the ritual commence.

A single flick of a switch, and the stereo blared to life.

The victory music lasted exactly ninety-seven seconds before jarring to a grinding halt. Momentarily shaken, Seto permitted himself to open one eye and glance toward the offending stereo, determined to ascertain the problem as quickly and efficiently as he could.

One look was all it took; shattered plastic, sparking wires, and a neat little hole where the stop button used to be.

Seto scowled a bit, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair once again. He knew the culprit, of course. After all, nobody could've gotten around his security systems, kept himself concealed from all of the sensors inside the office, and hit a target the size of a dime, all without being heard.

"Tristan, how many times have I told you that you can't stop the rock?"

"Hate to break it to you, but I think I just did. And that's Agent Taylor to you."

"…Well, fine. But "you aren't supposed to stop the rock" doesn't sound very good in the context of the song, you know?" the CEO amended.

There was a nearly inaudible thump as black leather boots landed on the plush carpet, and after a minute the room was bathed in an eerie greenish glow. There had been no indication of movement, and barely any noise. He was good…very good.

Seto didn't bother turning around. "Take off those stupid goggles, would you? I'm turning the lights back on."

"Stupid goggles? I'm hurt."

"No, hurt happens when I turn on the lights and you blind yourself. Take them off."

Tristan Taylor shrugged, then removed his night vision goggles and moved to stand next to Seto's chair as the lights came back on. "You totally need to get better security. I could've killed you six ways to Sunday and you didn't even know I was there."

"Six ways to Sunday? I beg to differ. You're not even capable of five ways to Friday."

"Nobody kills people on Friday."

"Oh? What about—"

"He doesn't count!"

Seto grinned. "Sure. So how go the plans for the party?"

"Oh, no big deal. Leapfrogging between dimensions is a lot easier than most people would think. Everybody's excited for the shindig, and I only had to kill two caterers before I found one who could handle the order we'll need to have filled."

"Excellent. We've got an RSVP from all the important guests, then?"

"Some voiced a little concern about getting here, but yes, we've got a full list. Not a single refusal."

Seto laughed at that, leaning back in his chair. "Refuse? My party? Please. I put one of the tickets up for sale on E-bay, just as a gag, and it's already selling for over ten thousand dollars. No one in the world would pass up this chance."

"Wait a minute," Tristan interrupted. "You mean you're actually going to let the highest bidder in some online auction attend your party? Are you flipping serious?"

"Don't be stupid. I've got Mokuba on his laptop counting down the minutes until the end of the auction. With two seconds left to go, he's going to snipe the highest bidder with one of my dummy accounts."

"You're cruel."

"Tis the season to be jolly, Tristan."

"Let's see, what else do I need to report? The C-5 Corridor is working just fine. That's a useful little invention, there. Gets you anywhere you need to go, provided you can put in the proper space-time coordinates."

The CEO shrugged. "We developed that technology a while back on commission from ACME. Never really thought it would come in handy…until now."

"A while back?" Tristan blinked. "This is the first time I've heard of it. How'd you manage to keep it under wraps?"

"Oh, you know. I hid the expenses under KaibaCorp's cleaning budget."

"You're telling me that you filed an innovation that cost millions of dollars in research and construction in with mops and liquid detergent, and no one noticed!"

"Why would they?" Seto replied innocently. "No one really looks at the cleaning budget anyway."

"Don't you think your board of directors and auditors would notice that the finances going towards your cleaning budget had, um, spiked a little bit?"

"Oh, them." The CEO grinned. "They asked about it once. I told them the budget went up to cover the expense of hiring cleaning companies who didn't mind dealing with the bodies of my previous crack team of auditors."

"Bet they didn't ask about it again after that one."

"Bet you're right. So, how was the trip, anyway? I've never gone through the Corridor myself."

"Walking through there kind of reminds me of the Mysterious Void Betwixt Worlds. Very peaceful. Limitless opportunities. …Cheeseburgers."

"What was that last one?"

"…Limitless opportunities?"

"…Yeah. Anyway. We've got the hall, which is good. And you said you found a caterer, which is very good. Oh, that reminds me; the refreshments are going to be exactly to specifications?"

Tristan nodded. "The instructions given were very clear. All cookies will be tree-shaped and exactly six inches in length, and all drink glasses will hold exactly eight ounces."

"And I trust you'll have someone check these specifications when the delivery is made?"

"Sure, no worries. I'll make a list. …And have them check it twi—"

"Good!" Seto interrupted, anxious to cut Tristan off before he finished the bad pun. "Now then, I'll put the final preparations into motion. On the day of the event, you'll be responsible for monitoring the Corridor and watching the guest list, understood?"

"No worries, chief. I'm on it."

"Excellent. Oh, and make sure that Pegasus gets the seat of honor, will you? I do so want to make sure he has a good time."

Tristan shook his head, laughing as an evil smile flickered across Seto's normally stoic features. "You're a terrible person, boss."

"Hey, I intend to have a Christmas that is both holly and jolly. And I intend to make sure Stuck-Up McFruitJuice gets a front-row seat to see it."

-----

Elsewhere, the rest of the gang had gathered at the Game Shop to compare notes and discuss the party that the news media was now terming as "the biggest event of the millennium".

"So let's see here," Yugi Mutou mumbled, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the assortment of small blue envelopes in front of him. "I got a ticket. Yami got a ticket. Ryou and Yami Bakura got tickets. Malik and Ishizu got tickets. Joey—"

"Didn't get a ticket, but is bidding for the one up for sale on E-bay," the blonde replied smugly.

Tea Gardiner blinked. "Isn't that selling for something like forty thousand dollars right now?"

"Forty thousand dollars and one cent. I found a penny outside the Game Shop."

"Joey!" Yugi blurted. "You don't have forty thousand dollars!"

"Calm down, Yuge," Joey Wheeler replied with a confident smile. "I figured out the way Kaiba's working this. It doesn't matter how much gets bid, 'cause he's just gonna have Mokuba snipe the winning bidder with two seconds left to go, and see how much the ticket would've gone for. So all I'm doing is messing with his head."

"But…then you still don't have a ticket to the party," Ryou Bakura pointed out.

"Don't need one. I'm crashing."

"Easier said than done. I can understand why Joey didn't get invited to Kaiba's party, but why didn't I get a ticket?" Tea demanded, folding her arms. "What have I ever done to Kaiba, anyway?"

There was a long silence, and it was Yugi who finally replied, meekly, "Uh…no comment?"

At that exact moment, the doorbell chimed, and a second later Mokuba Kaiba poked his head in the door. "Anybody here?" he called, glancing around the shop.

"Hi, Mokuba!" Yugi cheered, ducking out from Tea's frustrated glare and running over to greet the smaller boy. "What brings you here today?"

"Oh, not much. I wanted to stop by and say hello, wish you a merry Christmas. Oh, and Seto wanted me to check and make sure everybody got their tickets okay, and something about subtly taunting the people who didn't get tickets. But that's more his style than mine." Mokuba grinned. "His antihero is showing."

"Antihero?" Joey asked, blinking.

"Hey, Mokuba, while you're here…" Tea began, sidling over to the black-haired boy. "We all know why Joey didn't get a ticket. But I'm sure mine got lost in the mail or something, right? It's on its way, isn't it?"

"Nope."

"…What do you mean, 'nope'?"

"No, your ticket isn't lost in the mail. I'm positive."

Tea frowned. "How can you be sure of that?"

"Easy. I know it's not lost in the mail because we didn't send you a ticket in the first place."

"What!"

"Yeah, you don't get one. Sorry."

"Oh, I'm going to kill that brother of yours when I—!" the brunette girl exclaimed, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Actually," Mokuba interrupted, "it was my idea to leave you off the guest list, not his."

"But—but why! Why would you do such a terrible thing! I thought I was your friend, Mokuba! Friendship should—"

"Hey, nothing personal," the boy said with a shrug, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I decided it wouldn't be good to give the Azureshippers any ideas, that's all."

Now it was Yugi's turn to blink. "Azure…shippers?"

But Mokuba was already on his way out the door. "Well, I hate to leave so soon, but I'm on a tight deadline, so I've got to be going. Seto will be glad to hear that everybody got their tickets. Remember, dress is formal, and don't be late! Bye, guys! Snipe you later, Joey!"

The door swung shut, making the bell chime once again. For a minute, there was perfect silence. It took everyone in the store just to keep Tea from chasing Mokuba down the street, and another twenty minutes to get her settled down.

As usual, no one noticed that Tristan was conspicuously absent.

-----

At long last, the day of the party arrived, and things at the Kaiba mansion were extremely tense all day. There were over a dozen new members on the staff, hired especially to help put things together for the party, and most of them hadn't quite adjusted to the idea that when Seto Kaiba yelled that their work was imperfect and therefore to go commit ritual suicide because they'd shamed their ancestors back a thousand generations, he didn't really mean to drop everything and leave, but rather simply to adjust the tablecloth in question another inch so the sides were more even. Naturally, such a concept took some getting used to.

Eventually, though, Seto got tired of harassing the kitchen staff and went upstairs to plan what to wear for the party. He made it as far as the sixth step before a disembodied voice groaned, "Braaaaaaaaaains…!"

It was only years and years of honing his reflexes that saved Seto from falling down the stairs. "Tristan!" he yelled, unable to see the agent but still knowing he was around somewhere.

A minute later, Tristan dropped from the ceiling, laughing as he landed in front of the blue-eyed CEO. "Oh, man, you should have seen your face!"

"I hate you."

"Tis the season. Hey, hadn't you better go get dressed up? The guests will be arriving any minute now, and I'm off to go make sure they make it through the Corridor okay."

"I was on my way to do that when you decided to play live-action Resident Evil."

"What're you going to wear?"

"I'm not sure, actually. It's kind of a tricky decision. I was thinking either the Magnum or the Beretta, personally."

Tristan thought a minute. "It's formal, right?"

"The Beretta it is, then."

"Right-o, Chief. See you at the party." And with that, Tristan tossed a smoke bomb at Seto's feet and disappeared from sight.

When the smoke finally cleared, Seto found himself alone on the stairs. Grumbling, he climbed the rest of the way to the top, muttering under his breath about uppity secret agents ruining the carpet and how he never should have paid for certain people to go through the spy academy in the first place.

-----

Elsewhere, Joey was putting the finishing touches on his plan for the evening. A limousine had just arrived to pick up Yugi and the others, and Yami had successfully drugged Tea up with enough tranquilizers to keep her asleep until well into the new year, so that wouldn't be a problem either. Yugi had hesitated before climbing into the limo, of course, but Joey had quickly assured him that it was all right and he would be sure to see them all at the party.

Once the limo was completely out of sight, he counted to thirty, then donned a heavy trench coat over his formal attire and shouldered his heavy-duty shovel. If he took a shortcut through the abandoned construction site, he could be at the Kaiba Banquet Hall in just under a half-hour. Then it was a simple matter of tunneling under the wall and bingo! He was in.

A vague thought nagged at him, and for a minute he wondered if taking that shortcut was such a good idea after all. But he quickly dismissed that notion; after all, people cut through the construction site all the time, and nothing bad ever happened to them. Besides, it was much faster than going the long way around.

Whistling happily at the thought of crashing Kaiba's uppity party, he set off down the road at a quick pace, bouncing lively with every step. Oh, he intended to enjoy this holiday a good deal.

Sure enough, the walk through the construction site was quiet and peaceful, and it was still light enough out to make his chosen route easily visible. He laughed softly to himself. What had he been worried for, anyway? The whole place was deserted, anyway!

Murphy's Law couldn't let that one pass without a firm, in-your-face rebuttal. Almost as soon as he'd made that thought, strange voices rang out through the lot.

"Are you sure he said to park here!"

"Yes, I'm sure he said to park here! It says so right on the invitation!"

"Hn. Doesn't seem like a very secure place to leave our ride."

Joey blinked as he ducked behind a towering pile of dirt, leaning in to listen a little more closely. That voice…it almost sounded like Kaiba!

"Oh, come on. Who'd be dumb enough to steal—"

"You never know. Now shut up."

The voices began to fade into the distance as, Joey presumed, the people made their way to the fenced-in area where the party was being held. Once he could no longer hear them, he counted backwards from thirty and then continued to make his way. How very odd, to run into other partygoers out here…

No matter. He was getting close now, and making very good time. It would take a while to tunnel under the wall, anyway, and the faster he got there, the sooner he could start.

-----

Yugi and the gang arrived exactly as scheduled, their limousine whispering to a halt at the curb right in front of the entrance to the Kaiba Hall. A velvet carpet stretched from a pair of oak double doors like a long red tongue, and judging by a few footprints matted into the fibers, they were not the first ones to arrive at the party.

Once they were all out of the limo, it pulled away from the curb and back onto the street, presumably to fetch more guests. Smiling and staring at the grandeur, the group made their way down the red carpet and into the pitch-black hall. It was a good thing that the corridor was straight, or else every guest who passed through would be sure to run into the wall; it was so dark that they couldn't see their own hands, even when they were waving a few inches from their faces.

Malik and Yugi were the first to voice their hesitation, but in truth, everyone in the group was more than a little creeped out. "So…how much longer do you think this goes for?" Yugi asked, more to hear the sound of a human voice than to really make conversation.

"I don't know," Ryou answered. "This hallway sure makes an effect, though, huh?"

"Looks like something from a haunted house," Malik grumbled. "Or possibly Scooby Doo."

There was silence for a minute, and then Yami Bakura screamed, "WHO YOU GONNA CALL!"

No reply. The tomb robber looked dejected. "I seriously thought someone would answer," he explained, knowing that the other members of the group were glaring at him, even though he couldn't see it.

After what seemed like an hour of walking, just as they were finally getting used to traipsing around in the dark, what looked like a pair of floating green eyes appeared in front of them, blinding them with its unearthly emerald glow.

Yugi screamed, and jumped on Yami.

Malik screamed, and jumped on Ishizu.

Ryou screamed, and jumped on Yami Bakura.

"WHAT is your name!" the owner of the glowing eyes thundered, its voice booming in the empty, dark hall.

Yami blinked. "I don't know."

"WHAT is your quest!" the eyes demanded.

"We seek Kaiba's party," Yami answered calmly.

"WHAT is the capital of Assyria?" the eyes asked, finishing the sentence in a rush.

"Uh, Ashur? Lousy Assyrians, always coming down and invading my empire," Yami grumbled. "Well, I showed them, didn't I? Yes I did. Yes I did."

The eyes seemed to consider this a minute. "All right. You may pass." And with that, they snapped out of existence. Just as the gang began to mutter amongst themselves, trying to decide what to do next, two doors swung open and the light at the end of the tunnel was revealed. One by one, they all stepped into the light, blinking rapidly to help their eyes adjust.

The sight that met their eyes was nothing short of stupendous. Kaiba had completely outdone himself, and that alone was really saying something. The entire room was decked in sweet-smelling garlands, punctuated every few feet by a red velvet ribbon; a six-tiered crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling in the midst of the polished hardwood dance floor, and ropes of shimmering crystal looped from the chandelier itself to strategic points high on the walls where they met the ceiling. Dozens of tables littered the carpeted half of the room, and along each wall of the carpeted half there were buffet-style tables positively teeming with food. Of course, Kaiba couldn't throw a party and not have an appearance of some kind by his favorite Duel Monster, and so in the center of each of the buffet tables there sat a three-foot ice sculpture of the Blue Eyes White Dragon. The Christmas tree, twelve feet high, sparkled at the other end of the dance floor, and beneath it—to everyone's excitement—laid mounds and mounds of carefully wrapped presents.

Yami whistled, and said the words that were certainly on everyone's minds:

"Jeez, nice digs."

A few people were already seated, but the ballroom was far from filled; the group could tell that they were among the first to arrive. And with the way Kaiba had things set up, it was quite apparent that many, many more would follow.

Mokuba, resplendent in a white tuxedo with green trim and a red tie, came over to greet them. "Hey, guys! You made it!"

"Yeah!" Yugi replied, smiling happily. "The limo that you sent was a nice touch. Got us here in style, and in no time at all."

The black-haired boy frowned a bit. "Limo? We didn't send any limo."

"But…then how did we—"

Yugi never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment, a man clad in a black jumpsuit with three glowing green eyes calmly escorted an odd-looking pair inside and wished them well.

Ishizu gaped openly. "Tristan!"

"Uh…no," the man replied slowly. "My name is…Bob. Bob Smith-Jones."

"Oh. Sorry, uh, Mr. Smith-Jones. I thought you were…someone else," the Egyptian woman apologized, flushing slightly. "A friend of ours."

"I get that a lot. Don't worry about it."

As the man left, Mokuba put in, "That's, uh, Bob. Seto hired him to watch the door. He carded you on the way in, right?"

"I suppose you could say that," Yami answered.

"Great, then you're free to mingle. We've got a lot of people coming, and they're from all over the place. Seto wants this to be the best shindig in the history of the world."

"Hmph. My coronation as pharaoh was pretty good," Yami pouted. "At least, I'm pretty sure it was."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Like everybody doesn't know your entire history and your real name. Sure."

The pharaoh's jaw dropped. "What you say!"

"Sure, fanbrats on the internet have known it since, like, season one."

"Season…?" Malik repeated.

"Fanbrats?" Ryou added.

"…Internet?" Yami Bakura finished, a confused look on his face.

Mokuba sighed, shaking his head. "Have you guys ever heard that phrase, 'my life is a soap opera'?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I hate to break it to you guys…but our lives are a TV show." Mokuba pointed at Yugi and Yami. "Those guys are the heroes. You all are the supporting cast. Tea's the love interest, Seto's the antihero, and the Heart of the Cards might as well be called the Deus Ex Machina of the Cards. I mean really now, that's just lame. Don't tell me you've never noticed."

Slowly, impossibly slowly, Ryou turned to stare at Yugi. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

"Not a clue."

"Mokuba," Yami began carefully, "Maybe you should go sit down. I'm sure you've been very busy all day, and you could use a few minutes of rest…"

"Whatever, guys. Enjoy yourselves at the party, I've got more people to greet." And then, with a flourish that would have made his brother weep a tear of joy, Mokuba turned sharply on his heel and strode back to the door to greet the other guests.

-----

Joey had been digging for a long time.

The hole was gi-normous by now, but he was confident that he was getting pretty close. In fact, every so often he though his shovel hit something metallic, and here and there he had uncovered pieces of curled wrought iron…something. It was probably just part of the wall, though, and didn't worry him at all.

At long last, the tunnel was deep enough that he could crawl inside and start excavating by hand. He was glad he had his overcoat with him—it was messy and gross in there, and the dirt was wet, but the heavy coat kept any of it from getting on his formalwear. And in the end, that was really all that mattered.

Odd…there seemed to be something glowing in front of him…sort of like the surface of a pond, but not exactly, and filmy in—

He fell through the film and landed in outer space.

Well…mostly outer space.

Okay, not really anything like outer space at all.

'Cause, y'know, there was still air and stuff.

But it was very dark.

Like outer space.

Of course, outer space didn't have wooden doors hanging out of nowhere, and there was a wooden door right in front of him. Joey could just barely hear voices inside, and after a minute he realized that they sounded like very, very familiar voices.

In fact, they almost sounded like…

Like…

Joey frowned. Tristan and Kaiba? Well, Kaiba would certainly be at his own party, wouldn't he? This must be the place! Odd choice for a party locale, but still…

Confidently, he put his hand on the knob and twisted.

It was open.

"Hey, Kaiba, surprise! Bet you didn't expect m—" Joey called, shoving the door open and striding inside.

He stopped mid-sentence as a few things became very, very apparent to him.

The first was that he was not standing in a ballroom.

The second was that Tristan and Kaiba were nowhere to be seen.

The third, and arguably the most vital, was that four very startled sets of eyes were fixed upon him.

"Uh…" he began, at a complete loss for words. "This…isn't Kaiba's party."

The tallest, a man in a white suit with holly in his lapel, shook his head and laughed darkly. "I knew this was going to happen. Didn't I tell you to lock the door?"

Another, a redhead, looked annoyed. "Why would anyone bar the outside of a ba—"

"Don't you sass me."

"Well, this is a setback," the youngest, a brunette boy with big blue eyes, commented. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Want me to knife him?" the one in the eyepatch suggested, grinning.

"Ack!" Joey yelled, taking a step backwards. But to his surprise, the door had disappeared, and he was standing in the midst of…infinity…

Where was the door!

"Enough, Farfarello," the white-suited man barked, raising a hand.

"Okay, so let's start from the beginning," the boy said, folding his arms. "Who is this guy, and why did he just walk out of our bathroom?"

-----

"Boy, this is really turning into a great party, huh?" Mokuba remarked, grinning at Tristan, who was hanging casually from the ceiling. "Everybody's here! Did you see? I can't believe some of these guys are actually here! They're like celebrities!"

"Like Barney Collier? I cannot believe the man actually deigned to come here!" Tristan exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with an almost childlike glee. "I got to shake his hand when he came in the door. What an honor!"

"Yeah. Mission: Impossible was a great show," Mokuba agreed.

The brunette blinked. "Show?"

"Oh, jeez, you too? Never mind. Yeah, the man is a genius. I can't believe he's here."

"So who's your favorite attendee?" Tristan wanted to know.

"Duo!" Mokuba cheered. "He brought Deathscythe too, did you know that? And he said he'd take me for a ride before he left! He's so awesome!"

"Heero's the guy with him, right? The one who looks like Seto?"

"Yup. They arrived in pairs, but all the Gundam pilots are here. Trowa and Quatre snuck off somewhere, I think, and Zechs has been monopolizing the punch table all night."

"Aren't you forgetting one?" Tristan wondered aloud, counting on his fingers. "One, two, three, four…"

"Eh, I can't remember. It's probably that guy nobody cares about."

Someone tapped Mokuba on the shoulder, and when he turned around, he found himself face to face with Wufei Chang, who was holding out a beautifully wrapped present and looking extremely dejected.

"Oh, hey, Wufei," Mokuba said with a smile. "Hey, did you see who tapped me on the shoulder? I didn't turn fast enough."

The Chinese boy looked like he was about to cry. But then, suddenly, Zechs Marquis, the Lightning Count and overall congenial guy, strode over and said, "Excuse me. Wufei, would you mind joining me at the refreshment table? I'm dying for some intelligent conversation, and the peons around here are no help. Philistines, every one of them."

Overjoyed, Wufei handed Mokuba the present he'd been holding and followed Zechs away. Once he was gone, Tristan blinked at Mokuba. "Jeez, what was that all about?"

"Oh, nobody likes Wufei. Zechs is just a nice guy, that's all. Hey, is it just me, or do you hear somebody coming through the Corridor?"

Tristan frowned, listening a moment. "Yeah, and I think I know who it is, too. Hold on a sec." And without further ado, hidden machinery purred to life with a soft whir, and the agent rose out of sight into the shadows.

Mokuba blinked. He'd seen Tristan in action before, and knew what to expect, but still a thought nagged at him:

"Where does he get such wonderful toys!"

The world would never know.

Still, the black-haired boy didn't have long to wait. Tristan soon returned—on foot, amazingly enough—laughing and joking with a group of four men who were positively dressed to kill. Wait a minute…there weren't four, there were five, and the one straggling in the back was—

—Joey!

And indeed it was, arriving fashionably late right along with the rest of Schwarz.

Tristan and the redhead, Schuldig, were chattering away like old friends; Crawford was scanning the ballroom, his glasses glinting from the chandelier's light, and Farfarello appeared to have a small felt Christmas tree sewn on the front of his eyepatch. He couldn't see Nagi yet, but Mokuba just assumed that he was in the back with Joey; Crawford would never think of attending a gathering as big as this without his full team.

Sure enough, the young brunette boy soon walked over and nodded at him. "Mokuba."

"Nagi!" Mokuba cheered. "It's so great to see you guys! We haven't played Halo in ages!"

"Yeah," the other agreed, smiling faintly at the thought. "I've got a new pigeon, by the way. His name's Omi. Thinks he's a master hacker, but he's far from all that."

"Great, get him online and we'll take him down!"

"I won't play if your brother does, though," Nagi amended, shaking his head a bit. "Hacking the system is one thing, but having your A.I. do it while you snipe the other players? Lame."

"Speaking of which, where is your brother?" Crawford asked politely, polishing his glasses on his shirt. "He mentioned something about a business proposition in his invitation to this gathering."

"Craaaaaaawford!" Schuldig whined. "No business on Christmas!"

But before the black-haired man could reply, a waiter passed by with a tray heavily laden with drinks. "Ah, guests! Can I interest you in something to drink this evening?"

"What've ye got?" Farfarello asked, intrigued.

"Punch, champagne, sparkling grape juice, and water, all in eight-ounce glasses."

"Water," he decided.

"Water," Nagi requested, looking up from his discussion with Mokuba.

"What kind of water?" Schuldig inquired, his tone sickeningly sweet.

"Uh…Evian, sir."

"…I'll have champagne."

"And for you, sir?" the waiter asked, glancing at Joey.

"Punch would be fine, thanks."

The waiter handed out the glasses and disappeared into the crowd, and the men sipped their drink of choice as they fanned out through the room. Mokuba and Nagi stayed by the door, but Tristan decided to head to the food table and grab a quick snack before returning to his duties as doorman.

However…something was afoot at the refreshments table.

Or more appropriately, something was under foot at the refreshments table.

Tristan frowned for a minute, silently examining the giant man-sized cardboard box hastily wrapped in shimmering blue wrapping paper with a big white bow on top. Something was off about this present—it looked like one of Seto's, but why was it here, and not beneath the tree?

Operating on a hunch, he turned his head towards the dance floor and watched out of the corner of his eye as the present began to shuffle along the floor. He turned back, and it froze in place.

That slight movement was all he needed.

Laughing out loud, he kicked over the box and cried, "Snake, you made it!"

Solid Snake, Tristan's old roommate at the spy academy, rose to his feet and enveloped his friend in a tight hug. "I was wondering if you'd catch me! Good eye, there."

"Trained by the best, huh? Hey, where's Otacon? He came too, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he tagged along, but he's been following that Maxwell guy around since we got here. Something about autographs and anime conventions," Snake replied. "Eh, whatever. So what's going on?"

"Not much! Just grabbing a bite to eat before I go back to work. My employer would make Scrooge look like Santa Claus, and I'm stuck working security on the front door. Merry Christmas to me, huh?"

"Yeah. Hey, so how've you—"

"TRISTAN!" Mokuba yelled from across the room. "Some guys are here from a galaxy far, far away, and they can't find a parking space because the lot is full!"

"Whoops, duty calls," Tristan told Snake with an embarrassed shrug. "We'll catch up later, huh?"

"Yeah, come find me when you get off work," Snake agreed, grabbing a cookie and disappearing beneath his box once again. "It'll be like old times."

And with that, Tristan set off to take care of business once again.

-----

The party had been going on for an hour and a half when Maximillion Pegasus finally made his appearance. He and Croquet had carefully planned their schedules for the day so as to arrive just on the borderline between fashionably late and insultingly late, mostly to cheese Kaiba off. He, of course, would read the time of their appearance as being insultingly late, whereas for the other guests he could claim that he had been delayed with his company's duties and that he was still simply fashionably late.

Of course, he'd spent the whole day in his pajamas watching cartoons and eagerly awaiting the moment when he could start getting ready for the party, instead of actually working, but nobody would know that, now would they?

As luck would have it, though, they arrived right behind some squatter who was trying to finagle their way into the party, and were forced to wait in line before getting in the door.

"I'm serious!" the girl exclaimed. "I'm Seto Kaiba's daughter from the future! Shadi sent me back in time to keep an evil group called the Shadows from killing me because I have the soul of a Blue Eyes White Dragon!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure you are. What's your name?" Mokuba demanded, and Pegasus smirked a little at how much he resembled his brother at the moment.

"Alexis Rhodes!"

"And the survey says…no! Nice try, 'Mary-Sue', but your name ain't on my guest list and you that means ain't getting in to my party! Sorry, game over, you lose. Security!" Mokuba yelled, stabbing a finger at her. In an instant, three muscular bodyguards in tuxedos appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the girl, dragging her kicking and screaming body past Pegasus and Croquet and out the door. "Next!"

They walked forward, and Mokuba's eyes lit up. "Hey, you guys came! About time. Seto was pretty confident you wouldn't show, but I guess you proved him wrong, huh?"

"We were detained by business," Croquet explained calmly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. I should probably card you to make sure you're not really Alister or something, but hey, tis the season to be naïve and overly trusting, right? Go on in," the boy replied. "Seto's got the place of honor set up for you, Pegasus, at the front table there. Be sure you sit in your assigned spot."

"Oh, an assigned spot! How very quaint."

They proceeded past the doorway and into the ballroom, taking a moment to marvel at the decorations before beginning the perilous task of navigating the dance floor to get to their assigned table. The attempt was far harder than it sounded; masses of people moving every which way, blocking paths that were once open, chattering loudly until the air was full of random bits of conversation:

"Do it again! Do it again!"

"And so then she says, you're drunk! And I said, and madam, you're ugly, but in the morning I'll be sober!"

"No, no, you idiot, not here!"

"Wow, what a great party…"

"Is that…marijuana?"

"Yup. My doctor in Los Angeles prescribed it because of my inability to swallow pills!"

"Goodbye, cruel world! Blow your mind game!"

"I'm a clown! I'm a clown!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, watch it. I know karate and several other Japanese terms!"

But at long last, they made it, and Pegasus had just seated himself when the entire back wall exploded.

Croquet, his reflexes being just slightly faster than his employer's, was under the table in an instant. Pegasus took only a fraction of a second longer, and the two of them huddled beneath the banquet table as pieces of flaming debris tumbled around them. What was going on? Had the Pastel Mafia finally made their decisive move!

The first thing Pegasus noticed, once the smoke began to clear, was the large red X painted on the ground beneath his chair.

The second thing he noticed was the complete lack of any other place settings at this particular banquet table.

And the third—and arguably the most important—thing he noticed was the blinding flash of a high-powered camera, capturing his huddled state on film for all eternity, and the familiar sound of Seto Kaiba's laughter.

Fuming, he pulled himself from under the table and dusted his coat off. "Kaiba-boy. How good of you to show up to your own party," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster.

But Seto, standing amidst the wreckage of the wall he had just destroyed with a remote-detonated mine, was laughing far too hard to reply.

-----

The party was mostly uneventful after that, and soon it was time for the party guests to bid each other a regretful farewell before returning to their respective dimensions via the C-5 Corridor, each with a bag of presents in tow.

Seto had given everyone a large sack of money wrapped in an elegant gift box, and had thoughtfully included in each package an early invitation to next year's party. So everyone was merry and gay as they wearily proceeded towards their individual homes. Tristan and Mokuba made sure everyone made it home all right, and soon it was just them, Yugi's group, Joey, Pegasus, and Seto left behind. Croquet went to fetch the car while the others said their farewells.

"Bye, everyone," Seto called, waving as the guests left. "Happy sack of money—I mean, Christmas!"

Yugi yawned. "What a nice party this was."

Yami Bakura's eyes twinkled. "What a nice sack of money this is—I mean, yeah, what a great party."

"I'm actually kind of sorry you were the host this year," Yami commented to Seto, offering a friendly smile. "We didn't get to hang out nearly as much as we did last year."

"Eh, there will be other parties. Besides, it was worth missing a lot of it just to see the look on Pegasus's face when I blew through the wall. Priceless, I tell you."

"Totally."

Mokuba grinned at Joey. "Hey, I'm glad you came even though your ticket got lost in the mail. Showing up with Schwarz was a great idea. How'd you do it?"

Joey blinked. "Uh…I'm just that good."

"Yeah, yeah."

One by one, they all trickled out, and just before Pegasus left, Seto caught him by the arm. "Wait a minute, Pegasus. I've got one more gift for you."

"Oh?"

"Yup." Seto reached into his pocket and produced a pale blue envelope wrapped with red ribbon, handing it to Pegasus. "Merry Christmas."

Pegasus blinked. What was it with Kaiba and pale blue envelopes, anyway? Could it be that he was actually a secret operative for the Pastel Mafia? Did this envelope mean certain doom!

Curiosity eventually won out over caution, and after excusing himself for a quick bathroom break, Pegasus opened the envelope and peeked inside.

He frowned. It was just a harmless piece of paper. "What is this?" he wondered aloud.

Seto's eyes gleamed as Pegasus looked at it a little more closely. "This is…a share of Industrial Illusions?"

"The fifty-first share," the brunette explained with a wicked grin on his face. "I got a little bored this morning and decided to buy out your company, just for fun. You really should keep a closer eye on your stocks, even when you are sitting around in your pajamas watching cartoons."

"W-What! But how did you—how could you have—my stocks are—KAIBA!" Pegasus nearly howled, almost incoherent with rage. "I'll get you for this!"

"I'm sure you'll try, Pegasus!" Seto replied, nearly doubled over with hysterical laughter. "Something to look forward to for next year!"

-----

As always, if you enjoyed it, please leave me a review. Merry Christmas!