Seto Kaiba slammed his laptop shut, adequately satisfied with the figures he had calculated. With his office flooded by sunset hues, he decided he ought to leave before the cleaning crew came en masse.
Normally, he'd just take his work home. But tonight, he would be subjected to one of the worst possible forms of torture.
A dinner party with Pegasus. It almost topped getting Mind Crushed. And to make matters worse, he received this text from his girlfriend earlier:
I will pick you up at six thirty sharp. Do not bother bringing your car – Isis
Seto warily reviewed the message. She continued to sign her name at the end, despite his reiterations that he would know she was the one who sent them.
He took a bottle of red wine from the mini-fridge before heading out of his office and down the elevator. If he heard so much as a sigh from the Loony Toons CEO over his wine selection, the bottle was getting tossed into the nearest receptacle.
Isis was parked right in front of Kaiba Corp. She was dressed in a long white, tasteful dress, Seto asserted. A shame he couldn't say the same for her choice of vehicle; a rusty blue Cadillac. One of those 50s models with the obnoxiously sharp tail-fins.
She greeted him with a placid smile. "Are you ready to go?"
"As I'll ever be," he dryly replied. Though he knew it would be futile, he added, "You're sure you don't want me to drive."
"Of course." Isis gave him a pointed look. "You should trust me more, Seto. Marik tells me I've considerably improved my driving skills."
"What would he know? A motorcycle is very different from a car."
Carefully, he opened the passenger door. The leather seating was worn out at the seams, the window compartments dusty with particles that must have been lying there half a century.
If he were dating anybody else, he'd have gotten rid of this abomination in a heartbeat. God knows he's tried. But every time Seto was about to "donate" the car to the local homeless population, Isis caught him in the act. Once he had even gone so far as to retrieve the abandoned vehicle from the slums, after she persuaded him, strongly, to return the new car he had bought for her.
He started to fasten the seat belt, only to remember that the buckle that torn off. "Hn. Do you know how to get there?"
She nodded. "I've been to his house a few times, it shouldn't be far."
In other words, she hadn't checked the directions before leaving her place.
"Okay, as long as you're sure." As they were speaking, Seto had inputted the address on Google Maps.
Isis's hand covered the screen before he could read the first line.
"Now now Seto, you know that whoever is in charge of the car is in charge of navigation. We will arrive there just fine without the help of those fussy 'GPS' systems."
"It wouldn't kill you to take one look," he said, snatching his phone from her grasp.
Isis placed one hand on her hip while the other turned the keys in the ignition. "Just because I no longer possess the Millennium Tauk, does not mean I have completely lost all sense of direction."
One hour later
Seto rested his head against the seat, his expression thoroughly impassive.
Isis glanced out the window. "Hm, this street looks familiar."
"We passed it, about twenty minutes ago," he said, having lost count of how many turns and corresponding u-turns she had taken. "Dare I say it, but I believe we are what people would call lo-"
"Absolutely not," Isis cut him off before he could utter the dreaded "L" word. "We will flag down a pedestrian and ask for directions. Just to pinpoint our exact coordinates."
"Ask for directions," Seto repeated, blankly. "Well be my guest. If you happen to see someone walk by." At this time, it was well past dusk and judging from the lack of traffic outside, they were in a secluded part of Domino.
Isis rolled down the window and poked her head out. She turned back to him with a smug smile.
"Ask and you shall receive Seto. Someone's coming. Excuse me!"
A guy wearing a hoodie stopped in his tracks. "Huh?"
"Yes, hello," Isis said, sounding relieved. "Would you care to direct me to the residence of Pegasus J. Crawford?"
The youth scrunched his face. "Who?"
"The founder of Industrial Illusions, creator of the Duel Monsters card game," she explained as if it should be an obvious fact to anyone.
"Ohh…" he started to nod.
"So you know where it is?" she asked.
"Nah." The guy let out a yawn.
"It's no use. I doubt he can spare more than a word per sentence," Seto said, having watched the exchange without batting an eye.
She sighed. "It appears so. Thank you anyway," she said to the youth, who just muttered something unintelligible and walked away.
Seto showed her his phone. "Give up?"
Isis wouldn't dream of it. "So we weren't lucky the first time. There will be others."
They continued driving, without further input from Seto. He didn't care whether or not they reached Pegasus' place anymore; in fact he would prefer they didn't. He was just idly curious how long Isis intended to rely on her "intuition" to get the right directions.
She soon slowed down the car again. "Here's a woman this time. Surely she will be reasonable."
"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said, to which Isis shot him a reproachful glare.
"Excuse me?" She called out. The woman kept walking, looking down at her phone.
Isis tried again. "Excuse me, could I ask you something?" Still no response.
She took an even breath. She felt a stirring of mild irritation, much to Seto's amusement.
"You know," she addressed the woman, as if she were talking to a misbehaving child, "it is very rude to ignore the person who is talking-"
"Whaddaya want lady?" snapped the woman, finally getting her eyes off her device.
"Oh good, you can hear me after all." Isis' irritation was forgotten. "Do you know how to get to the house of Pegasus Crawford?"
"Do I look like a map to you?" The disgruntled lady rolled her eyes. "Look it up on your phone like everybody else."
"Yes I can see why you would suggest that," Isis commented, glaring at the phone in question.
"Are we done here?" asked the woman, and then noticed Seto in the passenger seat, minding his own business.
The woman immediately changed her tune. She smiled at him. "Hey there handsome." Slowly, she walked closer to the car.
Isis narrowed her eyes. "Thank you for your assistance." With that, she put her foot onto the gas pedal and drove off, leaving the offending woman coughing from the exhaust fumes.
Seto smirked at her frantic exit. "I'd say that went well. She gave you the correct advice."
"No more asking," she decided. Clearly her faith in society was slightly misplaced. "We will get there my way or we won't get there at all."
Then she sniffed. "Do you smell something burning?"
"Yes." He was wondering when she'd notice. The car screeched to a halt.
"Glad to hear you've decided on the latter option," he said, getting out to have a look. Sure enough, there was smoke coming from the hood.
"Engine's fried." He side-eyed her. "Almost like this contraption shouldn't be operated for over an hour."
Isis sighed, defeated. "I suppose we ought to call a mechanic."
"Not so fast." He was instantly back in the passenger seat. His eyes raged with intent.
"I've acted as the complicit passenger long enough." Swiftly, he grabbed her by the chin. "So long as I'm stuck in this thing, you're going to make it up to me."
She swallowed, not breaking their eye contact for even a blink. "Very well."
He kissed her with his usual force, pushing her against the car interior. His tongue twisted against her own, frustration evident. She allowed him to work against her, while ensuring he did not completely have the upper-hand.
She broke it off. "I believe Pegasus will have to excuse our absence," she said without so much as a pant.
He gritted his teeth. "That's the last name I want to hear right now." She winced as his nails clawed against the back of her bare neck.
Her voice came to barely above a whisper. "Seto."
But it was all he needed.
He was reassured that he managed to get one use out of that blasted heap of metal.
A/N: My first time writing Trustshipping, what do you think? I hope they were for the most part IC, especially Seto.
