Authoress here.

Thanks for the good feedback y'all've been giving me. It makes an Authoress happyful.

Onto los Chappios!

Changes Made
Chapter Two: An Unusual Job

Jou barreled around the street corner, barely checking his speed to dodge a tiny old dear doing her window-shopping. This elicited a rather angry (and inappropriate, in Jou's opinion) response from the woman, and Jou chose to use the escaping part of 'fight or flight,' mainly in order to reach the fancy hair salon that was his destination.

He checked his pace to a dignified strut (much different than Seto's stalk) and went inside; trying to appear as if he had not just ran six blocks.

"Katsuya-kun, you're lucky this time." A warm female voice made the dirty-blonde look up with a wide grin. "You're a whole thirty-seconds' away from being late."

"Good afternoon t'you too, Natsunou-san." Jou flung back playfully at the pretty blonde behind the counter right inside the door. She rolled her eyes, and ran one perfectly manicured hand through the obviously unnatural blonde highlights.

"Katsuya, enough of you." She started a little as the phone rang next to her, and jerked with her free hand to the door behind the desk. "Go change. I'll start your timecard."

"Thanks, Natsunou." Jou gratefully slipped behind the counter as she answered the phone, straightening his own hair as he dodged into the backroom of the Biyou Spa.

It was a spacious, sparsely lit room, with two neat desks on one side, a coat rack in the back, a minifridge for employees, another door leading to a private toilet, and a large lavender screen that Jou started towards immediately.

Once behind it, Jou began to undress quickly, pulling the uniform jacket off over his head without bothering to undo the buttons first. Next item off was the undershirt, followed by the scratchy navy slacks. He stuffed the discarded garments into his backpack, bringing out a neat little garment bag. This he opened, drawing out the sole pair of designer jeans he owned, a freshly pressed black button-down dress-shirt, and lastly a tie that could only be described as 'funky;' a riot of subdued pastels weaving around in lazy patterns.

Jou wore the tie loose, liking the look of it better that way rather than the tie fastened all the way to the neck. He left his top buttons open, revealing the base of his throat and the top of his chest, a particularly efficient way of garnering tips from female (and sometimes, male) clients.

Jou turned to the little oval mirror that hung on the wall next to the screen. His hair, usually a hopeless tangled mop, became a stylish mess with the help of a thick mousse and a small comb. He grinned cockily at his reflection, checked his teeth, and hurried out of the room.

Natsunou turned around half-way in her chair as Jou left the backroom. She grinned appreciatively at Jou's tie, making him pause as she gave it an experimental tug.

"Nice, in a post-modern sort of way."

"I'll take tha' as a compliment, so, thanks."

Natsunou laughed, running her hand through her hair again. Jou watched the movement with a trace of amusement. Vain Natsunou was constantly concerned with her appearance, but then again, as a sort-of poster child for the spa, she ought to be. The first rule of cosmetology, as Jou had quickly learned, was always look good yourself before working on someone else.

"First appointment's already in your chair. Your friend, I believe?"

"Oh, Anzu? Believe it or not, this po-mo tie is her doing. She bought it for me for my birthday." Jou tugged at it, an expression of mock distaste on his features. "Blame her and her weird taste."

Natsunou started giggling again, brushing her layered bangs off to one side. Jou gave her another grin before hurrying to his chair.

This really is a dream job, Jou thought. Surrounded by beautiful women who give me money for touching their hair? A dream job, I'm tellin' ya.

And it was even sort of an accident he even had this job. Especially without a college degree in cosmetology; as the degree was a prerequisite for most employees. His aunt used to own the business, before she got pregnant. Then she had sold it to the current owner, but not before Jou had a small job sweeping hair after close. The new owner allowed him to stay, and all throughout junior high Jou had swept the store clean to help pay for his Duel Monsters addiction, among other things.

He couldn't help but pick up things from years of watching other stylists, and when he finally got the nerve to ask to do a haircut, the owner had given him a trial run. Where he was second-best in dueling, he was a natural in the field of hair styling. The owner had been impressed, and Jou had gotten an above-minimum wage paycheck, the first of many.

Technically, he was still on that trial run, but had been a stylist with his own chair station for about two years. He had several loyal clients, one of which being Anzu, who sat in the plushy leather salon chair waiting for him to arrive.

"Jounouchi!" Anzu leapt up to hug him as if she hadn't just seen him in the class preceding the end of the school day. Jou hugged her back, careful to not crease his shirt, smiling inwardly at Anzu's touchy-feely habits. Now if only Yuugi, or more specifically, Yami, would notice…

"Afternoon, Anzu." Jou greeted, pulling a drawer open from his small vanity desk with a flourish. He got out a large hair-cuttingbib, which he fastened around Anzu's neck. "How'd y'last class go?"

She made a face. "Horrible. If I hear the words 'birth-control' one more time I swear I'll scream."

"Oh, right, you've got health, don'tchya?"

"Yes, and what's worse, Yuugi's in that class with me!" Anzu bemoaned her bad luck, blushing slightly. Jou grinned as he led her to a different chair, preparing to wash and condition her hair.

"Know what the good thing 'bout that is?"

"There isn't anything good about learning to 'abstain from a sexual lifestyle' with Yuugi in the same class." Anzu grumbled, leaning her head back over the marble sink behind her chair. Jou turned the taps on, expertly finding a perfect blend of hot and cold. He selected a shampoo for Anzu's hair-type (thick and stubborn) and gently massaged it into her scalp.

"Well, when you gotta practice th' CPR thing, you can partner up with Yuug and give him rescue breaths." Jou grinned as Anzu's blush deepened to the color usually associated with stoplights. He rinsed her hair as she stuttered out half-baked protests to his suggestion before leading her back to his styling chair.

"So, what look this time?" Jou looked at Anzu critically in the mirror, running practiced fingers through her short locks.

"Make me look sexy." Anzu announced after a short pause. "And I mean fog-horn obvious."

"D'you mind if I accidentally slip in highlights?" Jou chuckled at Anzu's blatant statement. Anzu smiled slyly, pantomiming pulling a zipper across her lips, silently promising not to tell about the unpaid-for hair color. Jou nodded, rolling his eyes. "'Kay then, Anzu. Fog-horn it is."

As he got to work, Anzu asked Jou the same question he asked of her. "How was your last class? Pre-calculus, right?"

Jou grimaced. "Damn it, ya made me remember."

"Remember what? Asymptotes? Because I believe that's the point of having the class, remembering what they teach you…"

Jou shook his head, fishing in another drawer for the dye mix that would best flatter the fair-skinned Anzu. "Nah. Didn't want t'remember asymptotes either, but this is worse."

Anzu giggled a little. "What's worse than asymptotes?"

"Seto fricken' Kaiba as a math tutor."

Anzu's eyes widened a little. "Ooh, who's the unlucky victim?"

Jou shook his head, selecting sections of her hair to color, and wrapping them after he did in tinfoil. Anzu could be so ditzy sometimes. "I'm the unfortunate bastard. I did another screw-up on the last test, an' the sensei's givin' me this one last chance to pass th' class. And Rich Bitch hasn't bothered himself to do something so civilian-like as homework, so the sensei's failin' him too. And how's Kaiba getting' the passin' grade?"

Anzu looked at Jou in the mirror, eyes full of sympathy. "Teaching you?"

"Teachin' me. Or at least 'till I pass a test." Jou affirmed, folding up the final colored section of Anzu's hair in its tinfoil wrap. "And t'hell with it, I say. I'd rather fail."

"Jounouchi!" Anzu said reprovingly. "Fail and have to take the final year of high school again? What would your father-"

She broke off quickly, as if burned by her own words. Jou just shrugged at her and gave a half-smile, but didn't pursue that particular strain of the subject. "Anyways, I ain't gonna fail nothin'. I'll just study extra hard so I don't gotta spend anymore time with the Rich Bitch than I gotta."

"Good plan, Jou."

"Thanks. Now, you just marinate for awhile with that color dye, an' take a mag." Jou handed her a teenage-girl type of magazine before pulling up a stool next to her. "I'm gonna enjoy the scenery."

Anzu wryly followed Jou's rapt gaze to see a beautiful woman expertly trimming the long, glossy hair of another equally good-looking woman. "Oh, Jou, anyone who wouldn't know you and your hormones would think you're homosexual, working in a place like this."

Jou winked at his friend. "Yeah, an' those idiots don't know what a great view it is in here."

Yeah, people would think I'm gay, Jou thought, watching the pretty stylist laugh at something her customer had said. Like that damn Kaiba. Like I'd even wanna… do him. Jou scowled at the memory of Kaiba's flippant statement.

"I'm sure you'd like to fuck me, but I'm out of your league. In fact, my league is so high above yours, if your league exploded, I wouldn't hear it for three days."

Meh. Cocky bastard. Even though he's the prettiest guy I know, he don't got no right to go around assuming I'd like a piece of his ass….

Realizing his own thoughts, Jou shook himself mentally. But not before he pictured Kaiba's imposing figure; complete with trench coat, tight-fitting turtle-necks, and a pair of flashing sea-blue eyes that could pierce anyone's soul…

An' his stupid-ass comments that are just so… so… stupid. Jou thought sourly. If he knew I worked here, I'd be in deep trouble. I'd never hear th' end of it….

Unbidden, the mental image of a curiously shirtless Kaiba with a horsewhip entered his mind. He himself was also in the image, kneeling pathetically while Kaiba laughed insanely above him, waving the horsewhip around.

Yeesh, I been watchin' too many horror flicks. Jou passed a hand over his face, banishing the burning blush that accompanied the disgusting image. Or too many twisted pornos. Either way.

"Okay, Anzu," Jou broke himself from his revere. "Time for a cut that'll drop Yuugi dead in his tracks!"

End Chapter

Authoress here.

And reminding you it's rated 'T' for a reason. NO, NO LEMONS HERE. Just language. And Jou's in-the-gutter mind. And all of this for Jewel, because pre-calc IS horrible, whereas Seto-with-horsewhip ish gooooood... for her. And you. Maybe. Tell me about it in a... review, perhaps?

And don't waste my time with flames. Although you may believe I deserve them, well, why waste YOUR time on a story you think so badly of?

The logic is there, people.

Review on, Garth.
(Cookies to anyone who isn't confused by above sentence.)