Author's Note: I was going to post the chapter this morning before work. But my alarm didn't go off. So here we are now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Rated M. No lemons. Calm your tits.

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I update every Wednesday!

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"Hey, Fluffy? Hello? Anyone home?"

Bakura stared in silence, trying to find his words as he stared at the object of his affection. He had spent weeks, no now months, with Marik, figuring their relationship was that of a budding friendship and nothing more. But now, he knew that he was a bit further from the truth. Somewhere between researching, smoothies, criminal activities, movies and games, he had started to develop a crush on his little Egyptian compatriot. Somewhere along those lines, he had fallen for Marik.

Well, shit. Now what?

While Bakura may be an expert in his field and knew how to deal with people, relationships were a completely different animal. He was the kind of guy who never got close to people. He struggled to maintain friendships – relationships was a completely foreign topic to the albino. He had absolutely no clue how to even approach this. He thought about just blurting the words out loud. He thought of just running his hand through Marik's hair like he's wanted to for weeks now. He thought about closing the gap between their lips…

But he couldn't.

He couldn't risk destroying the fragile connection they had. He couldn't risk pushing Marik beyond what he was comfortable. He couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable and open in that anyone, let alone Marik. There was just too much unpredictability. Their relationship up to this point had been a work one. Scratch that – it had been a friendship. It grew from just being a business arrangement.

What if Bakura decided to let this grow from being a friendship to a relationship? He certainly wouldn't say no to that. Bakura shook his head of the thought. He couldn't do that. Bakura hated unpredictable variables that throw off his life, and Marik already was a wild card. He couldn't risk it. What if this screwed up the rest of their mission? What if they fail to collect the rest of the Items because of this? What if Marik wants to quit after finding out of his affections? What if Marik said no?

What if he said yes?

Bakura, no. Don't think like that. This will make everything way too complicated. Just let things stay as they are. You'll be fine. Bakura closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He needed to stop thinking. Deflect. Change the topic. Anything to avoid dealing with his little crush that he had developed. He sat up, brushing the snow out of his hair. He sighed before turning to glance down at Marik. Marik didn't say anything as he lay down with his hands clasped behind his head, staring up at Bakura with a raised eyebrow.

Bakura immediately forgot what he was going to say as he stared at Marik. He quickly turned his head, running one hand through his bangs in frustration. Man the fuck up. Stop acting like a teenage girl, damn it. A part of Bakura did wonder what would happen if he just admitted his feelings. What would happen then? How would Marik react? Sure they had teased and flirted with each other, but Bakura had done that to get a rile out of Marik. The teen had done the same towards him, so he just figured it was just their way of messing with each other.

But now? Bakura could feel the sexual tension rising. This was not what he wanted. Deflect. Change the subject. Marik sat up, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Bakura. Is everything okay? You seem off." Marik reached to brush Bakura's arm, but the albino quickly brushed it away. Now was not the time to deal with it. Later. Always later. Thinking quickly, he recalled what he wanted to ask Marik earlier this morning. "I'm fine. But there's something we need to talk about. Let's go warm ourselves up."

Marik narrowed his eyes, debating whether to press Bakura on the issue. The teen decided to drop the issue, standing up to brush the snow off of him. "Do you want to head back to the apartment?" Bakura stood up, shaking his coat vigorously as snow flew off of him. "There's a coffee shop not too far from here. We can grab a drink to warm up and talk there." Marik nodded, stretching his arms above his head. After a moment, he swung his arms down, a large smile on his face. "Sounds good to me. So it's a date!"

Bakura kept his face unreadable, unwilling to let Marik how much his words made him glow pleasure. He would keep things normal between them. He walked slowly behind Marik, who marched proudly across the park, messing up what little pristine snow had been left untouched by their snowball fight. Of all people to develop feelings for, why him? Bakura swore the gods had a strange sense of humor to torture him in this way. He chuckled, rolling his eyes. It is what it is, I guess.

"Fluffy! Where's this coffee shop of yours? It's freezing out here!" Bakura snorted, resisting his urge to roll his eyes. He sighed as he picked up the pace. "Hold your horses, I'm coming. No need to be such an impatient ass about it." Marik turned around, glaring at Bakura as he stuck his tongue childishly at him. An idea crossed Bakura's mind as he lead the two out from the park. I should try to see if I can get Marik to lick a telephone pole now…

The two criminals enjoyed a lovely morning coffee together after frolicking through the snow. Bakura wasn't sure how it happened, but this was the new normal now. He figured Marik wouldn't feel comfortable talking about work stuff in public and Bakura had no idea how personal his questions might get. However, he had to be practical about it. If there was a chance that Marik's goals interfered with Bakura, then they would need to find a new solution to both get what they want. Bakura was amused by the fact that a month ago, he wouldn't care of Marik achieved his goals – now he wanted him to succeed too.

What is my life?

Bakura cleared his thoughts before he got a headache (those seemed to be a rather common occurrence now). Putting his hormones on hold, he followed Marik into his apartment, ditching their damp winter clothes as he welcomed the warmth inside. He sighed as he took off his jacket and scarf, plopping himself on the couch. "Home sweet home." He muttered, his eyes closed as he cracked his neck. He heard Marik chuckle as he more slowly removed all of his layers. "There's no place like home?"

Bakura sniggered at the reference. "Something like that." He flicked his eyes open, his maroon irises unfocused. This place really does feel like home. He sighed – this would only make his focusing even more difficult. He needed to stop thinking like this. If he was going to put Marik on the spot though, he supposed doing it in the comfort of his own home was their best option. He watched Marik laid their coats out to dry, the teen pouting at the water and snow they had trailed into the apartment.

"This is going to take forever to dry." He heard Marik sigh, complaining under his breath. Bakura shrugged, not particularly upset by their wet clothing. "Throw them in a dryer." Marik rolled his eyes in exasperation. "And pay money? I'd rather not go outside for a week than spend money to dry these things." This made Bakura laugh, amused by the stinginess of his companion. "I can pay for it. It's not a big deal."

Marik just shrugged before plopping down next Bakura, running his hands through his drying hair. "I'll live. I just like to complain is all." Bakura just gave a sidelong glance, trying to keep both the annoyance and amusement from his voice. "So I've noticed." Marik turned and gave Bakura a cheeky smile. "You know you like me. Tell you what – you can buy me a new winter coat. Consider it an early birthday gift." Bakura rolled his eyes. Leave it to Marik to keep mooching off of him.

"Oh yeah? And how early is this present going to be?"

"Next week."

"… Bull shit."

"Nope."

"Seriously."

"Uh huh."

Bakura turned his head to look Marik in the face. "Your birthday's next week?" Marik smirked and nodded his head. "It's my last week as a teenager. I'm about to reach the big 2-0." Bakura pursed his lips. So Marik wasn't going to be a teenager for much longer. Huh. That would make it less sketchy if they were dating.

No. Stop thinking that. Question time. Bakura sighed, stretching a moment, unsure what to say. "Well it looks like I'll have to figure out a birthday gift for you." Marik winked at Bakura before nudging him with his elbow. "If you need suggestions, I have a few in mind." Bakura snorted, rolling his head to glare at Marik. "I think I can handle this. I'll give it a whirl." Marik shrugged before lifting his legs onto the couch to cross them. He rested his hands on his knees before looking back up at Bakura. "You said we needed to talk?"

Bakura paused a moment before nodding. His jaw was clenched, suddenly nervous at being put on the spot. He had no idea how Marik would react when asked about his motives. He didn't want to come off as accusatory. He wanted Marik to feel open, feel like he could trust him. Did he trust him? Bakura hadn't thought about that. What if he didn't? No, he had to. He was willing to trust him as a stranger to achieve his goals. Surely he trusted him even more now.

"Well, was there something you wanted to ask?" Marik asked, leaning forward slightly to look at Bakura better. Bakura flicked his eyes towards Marik, his lavender eyes watching him curiously. Bakura inhaled slightly, unsure if he should ask. "There is, but I don't know how to ask without it coming off as rude." To Bakura's surprise, Marik started laughing, a large grin on his face. "And that's different from normal how?" Bakura growled at the teen, which only caused Marik to laugh even more. Bakura crossed his arms, sulking as he waited for Marik to calm down.

Marik sighed as he stopped laughing, a grin on his face. "But seriously, Bakura – just ask. I'm used to you just doing or saying whatever you want. I think I can handle a question." Bakura pursed his lips. He supposed Marik did have a point. He always said what was on his mind before – why should this be any different? Marik has answered his questions so far – if he crosses a line here, then he would just take a step back. He sighed as he looked back at Marik, who met his eyes. "Alright then. Marik, why do you want to meet Yami?"

Marik blinked for a moment, the smile on his face quickly disappearing as a worried look took its place. He turned away, avoiding the crimson eyes that stared at him. Bakura didn't say anything, gauging Marik's reaction. The young man stared at the ground, his hands clenching on his knees. Bakura wasn't sure if he should back down, tell him not to worry about it if he didn't answer. But he wanted to know – he had to know. He watched carefully, Marik lost in thought as if trying to decide how to answer. The Egyptian teen bit his lip, inhaling slightly before sighing.

"He… Yami killed my father."

Bakura blinked, not registering the words initially. "… What?" He blurted out when his mouth started to work again. Yami killed his dad? Marik sighed, his shoulder slumping slightly. "Technically, he ordered someone else to kill my dad. But the fact remains that he's responsible for my father's death." Marik still did not look at Bakura, focusing his attention on the floor. He clasped his hands together, clenched tightly as his face seemed focused, determined.

Bakura watched for a moment before groaning, rolling his head back. This is going to be a problem. Shit. Bakura assumed there was one reason why Marik wanted to meet Yami face to face and that reason was revenge. This would definitely get in the way of Bakura receiving his reward. This was turning out to be a much worse scenario. I'll just have to deal with this delicately. After a few moments of silence, Bakura sighed loudly. "Marik, this working together thing is going to be a lot more difficult if you're trying to assassinate my client."

Perhaps handling things delicately was not one of Bakura's strongest points.

Marik snapped his head up to glare at Bakura, his face both annoyed and angry. "I didn't say I was going to assassinate him. I need… It's… He-" Marik struggled to gather his thoughts before he just threw his arms up in the air and leaned into the couch. "It's complicated." The teen settled with that response as he pointedly turned his head away from Bakura. The albino bit the inside of his cheek as he thought. He cared about Marik, yes, but he couldn't forget why he agreed to work with him. The whole point was to gather the seven Millennium Items and get the reward money. Bakura had no intention of losing that. If Marik wanted to keep working with him, he needed to do better than "it's complicated."

Bakura leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes, appearing confident and relaxed. "I've got time." A long pause continued between the two and Bakura worried that perhaps Marik wouldn't speak. Bakura inhaled, thinking what he could say to prompt Marik to speak. Before he could say anything though, he heard Marik sigh. "… Fine. I mean, if there's anyone I could talk to about this, it would be you. You… I guess I'm trying to say is that I trust you…"

Marik said the words out loud, but it was almost as if he were convincing himself more than he was convincing Bakura. He opened one eye to glance at Marik. The youth had pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them to hold himself close. His eyes still looked ahead, unfocused and blurry. Bakura listened as Marik started to speak in a soft voice. "My family… I come from a long line of tomb guardians. My family has protected the burial places of long lost kings for generations. Sort of like protectors of ancient burial grounds."

Bakura opened both eyes as he watched Marik, who seemed lost in his words, unaware of Bakura listening in. "We lived away from everyone. As the first-born son, I was expected to take on my father's role. We protected the tomb of an ancient Pharaoh, King Aknamkanon. Those lands belonged to my family for centuries." Marik sighed, a frustrated look growing on his face. "And then the fucking corporate world decided to butt in."

Bakura raised an eyebrow but said nothing, curious as to where this was going. Marik gave an annoyed sighed. "Yami apparently had vested interest in my family's land. We guarded an ancient pharaoh's tomb, so naturally there were many national treasures and relics that we kept safe. Yami cooperated with the government to try and take my family's land, declaring it to be national grounds. You know – shady business dealings under the guise of government service and protection."

Marik tightened his arms around his legs, fighting back a shudder. "Essentially, they tried to pressure my father into selling the family land. But my father refused – it was our birthright and heritage. Our entire family lived and died there. I think-" Marik bit his lip, almost as if unsure if he wanted to continue speaking. After a moment, he closed his eyes. "I think dad couldn't leave mom. She was buried there and was the only thing left we had of her. If he had sold the family lands to the government, that would have meant leaving mother forever. He loved her a lot. He… Odion said that he became a different man the day our mother died."

Bakura narrowed his eyes, watching Marik rest his chin on his knees as he buried the lower half of his face into his knees. His eyes blinked open, filled with countless emotions. Bakura wondered if he should stop Marik from continuing. Part of him felt like he shouldn't push Marik if he wasn't comfortable. Before Bakura could speak, he felt a hand touch his arm. He glanced over to see Marik uncurling himself slightly, moving a bit closer to Bakura. His face showed his nervousness but also determination. Is he looking for moral support from me?

Whatever the case was, Bakura shifted his arm to grasp Marik's hand. He felt Marik squeeze his hand back, not too tight but enough to know the gesture was appreciated. Bakura looked back, seeing that Marik didn't look at him, but seemed less agitated. "My father refused to sell the land, but the pressure put on him by the government and Yami's business made our lives difficult. He became… unpleasant. Ishizu left when this was happening, which really tore him up. I think Ishizu was his favorite."

Marik inhaled deeply as he dipped his head down, his voice growing softer and shakier. "I was only twelve, but I remember how everyone started to abandon my father. People who had served and worked to protect this tomb left for government pensions. Despite their years of service, they couldn't resist the offering put out by the government, a larger sum of money my family couldn't afford to pay. We just wanted to do our duty to our country, and our country punished us for that." He closed his eyes, a long silence following. Bakura didn't say anything, knowing any comfort he tried to offer would come off as useless or ingenuous.

"My father finally agreed to settle. He brought me and Odion with him when left for Cairo discuss the terms of the agreement. I guess my father would still work there but all property rights would transfer to Yami, who was a public servant and appointed government official." Bakura raised an eyebrow at this. He knew that Yami was affluent and smart in his business dealings – but he had realized he had such close ties to the Egyptian government. Perhaps I need to look into that.

"It was only a few days after we arrived there that the dealings went south. I don't know what exactly happened, but I remember my father returning from one of those meetings. He was so angry. Odion and I were in the hotel room, and I remember hearing yelling coming down the hallway. Odion told me to hide. I just remember hearing fighting and everything getting dark…" Bakura saw Marik's form tremble slightly. He tightened his hold on Marik's hand, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand. Marik closed his eyes, breathing slowly as he tried to calm his nerves.

Bakura narrowed his eyes, feeling Marik shaking. Bakura held his breath, not daring to speak. He could tell this was difficult for Marik. He could tell that this a painful memory, that there were still scars there. Bakura didn't how he could comfort him, but he held his hand tight, not trusting his words. He wasn't particularly at consoling others, but he did the one thing he could do – let Marik know he wasn't alone. Bakura couldn't take away his pain, but he could stay next to him and be there for him.

"When I came to, Odion was holding me. We both got hurt, but I don't remember how. I was covered in blood, but it wasn't my own. Honestly, I didn't even care because when I looked around, I… I saw my father's corpse." Bakura wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been those words. The words sounded harsh, bitter coming from Marik's mouth. He was careful not to show any physical reaction, not wanting to distress Marik anymore than he was right now.

"When the police came, they took us to the hospital and questioned us. Odion did most of the talking. No one knew for certain who killed him. His death was ruled as suicide. But that's not true. My father wouldn't have killed himself. Why would he kill himself? He was upset, but not to the point of committing suicide." Bakura felt the hand holding his strengthen its grip, Marik's voice growing louder. "There was blood everywhere. There were signs of a fight. Odion and I were injured somehow in a struggle. My father had fought for his life."

Bakura glanced over to see Marik as angry as he had ever seen him. His body trembled not because of fear, but out of anger. His voice was shaky as he felt his grief and rage radiate off the troubled teen. Bakura furrowed his eyebrows, troubled by Marik's distress. He reached another hand over to hold Marik's hand as he shifted the one holding Marik's hand to brush up his arm. "Marik." The motion and Bakura's soft voice distracted Marik from his anger. He snapped back, almost as if he was just now realizing that Bakura was still there.

Marik stared for a moment before sighing, closing his eyes as he forced himself to relax. He didn't look away, but remained facing Bakura, his eyes averted down. Bakura just watched, mindlessly rubbing Marik's arm to comfort him. "My father didn't kill himself. He was murdered. I know. But nobody would believe a kid." Bakura nodded numbly, thoughts racing and he took in every Marik was telling him. He swallowed, keeping his eyes trained on Marik while he spoke.

"So your father was killed. What makes you believe Yami is responsible though?" Marik snorted weakly, almost as if he were telling an unamusing joke. "Because guess who received full ownership and monetary rights to the Pharaoh's tomb after my father died? Odion was never declared a legal heir. No one knew where Ishizu was. I was underage. So the court settled it in favor of Yami – we had to take the bargain because he had nothing else to go on. Our entire life inheritance was taken away. Yami got everything he demanded for and more."

Marik turned his head away, his lavender eyes revealing his bitterness. "And all it costed him was my father's life." Bakura studied Marik for a moment longer before looking away. Bakura's research on his client didn't reveal much – Yami kept a very well-guarded and well-kept image. In the public eye, he is a shrewd and cunning businessman. Bakura knew of his operations in Japan, but it didn't surprise him that he had other connections elsewhere. He was a man on a mission, a man always on the hunt.

Despite knowing his accomplishments, Bakura knew very little about the man himself. He could only postulate what sort of person Yami was like. His meetings with the business manager were cool and distant, Yami maintaining a poker face as if his life depended on it. He knew that despite his charming and confident demeanor that has won over many, Yami wasn't afraid to use underhand methods if necessary. Extortion, theft, bribery – whatever it took to get what he needed.

But would he really resort to murder?

Bakura couldn't know for certain – he was hearing Marik's account on this. He could be mistaken for all knew. Yet Marik seemed completely set on the idea that Yami was the one who did it. Or at least, hired someone to do it. From what Marik was describing, it did seem like a murder and not a suicide. Perhaps Odion could verify this? He wasn't sure if Marik's older brother would tell him anymore. In any case, if Yami did kill Marik's father, this would make their partnership a little more difficult.

Scratch that – a lot more difficult.

Bakura closed his eyes, thinking over his words carefully. Marik just divulged a lot of stuff to him, most of it personal. He needed to handle this delicately, or as delicately as he could, while still getting to the point. "I understand where you're coming from, Marik. I'd want the man who killed my parents brought to justice as well. But we're going to have a problem if you're trying to assassinate my client."

Marik seemed to anticipate that Bakura would have an issue with his goals and was ready with a response. "I'm not going to kill Yami. Technically by law, he's innocent. I want to confront him. I want the truth from him. I know he killed my father and stole everything from my family – I want validation." Bakura opened his eyes but kept them narrowed as he studied Marik. What did he hope to accomplish with that? "… What will you do if he confirms what you believe to be true?" Marik blinked for a moment before looking away, his expression darkening. "Then I'll make him pay."

Bakura gritted his teeth in frustration. Marik was not making this easy. "You can't kill Yami, idiot. I'm not going to let you do that. You'll end up dead if you do that. If you intend to do that, I can't promise you a chance to meet my client. Are you even listening to yourself? You plan on making Yami, one of the most powerful men in the world, pay and suffer for what he did? Are you kidding me? If I betray my client, not only will I not get paid, but the biggest bulls eye would be sitting on our backs. I'm not going to live my life like that. There are other ways to put to rest the people you love, you know."

Marik snapped his head back, an angry look on his face. "Who said anything about love? This isn't just some emotional baggage I'm trying to deal with. This is about justice, Bakura. He's guilty – he should pay for his crimes." Bakura growled in frustration, but not without pausing a moment to think about Marik's words. This felt like an emotionally driven cause, but Marik quickly dismissed any motivation outside of justice. It was odd, given the circumstances that drove him.

Bakura glared at Marik, removing his hand from Marik's arm to run it back through his white locks. An annoyed grimace grew on his face. "Marik, listen. I agree that if he's guilty, he should face the consequences for his actions. If he did the crime, he should pay the time. But you can't murder him. Stealing and robbery are one sets of crimes people are willing to glance over from time to time. No one gets away with murder." Bakura glanced away. "Take it from someone who already has to keep his head for 'lesser' crimes. It's hard enough doing what we do – don't lose yourself in revenge. You won't get out."

Bakura could feel the lavender eyes studying his face as he turned away slightly. Bakura felt the past nine years more than ever. Now that he was planning on getting out, he felt the weight more than he did before. Nine years was a long time to be working in their field. It was at that moment that Bakura really how truly exhausted he felt. Sure, it was exciting and fun, but for the first time did he truly feel the heaviness and tiredness of trying to do this for years.

Marik seemed to sense this as he backed off. "Fine. I won't kill him. But I still need to meet him. I need to know and he still needs to pay for his crime." Bakura wiped his face of any weakness he may have been showing, turning to meet Marik's eyes. He looked disappointed. Bakura figured he would be, but he knew that this would be the safer route for Marik. "Once you meet him, you can start gathering evidence against him to prosecute him. Loathe as I am to say it, but perhaps working with the law might be the way to bring the man to justice."

Marik gave Bakura an unamused smile, which only succeeded in making Bakura snigger. "You really think that would work? Yami has a made a living making a mockery of the law system." Despite his amusement, Bakura knew Marik did have a point. Yami mastered the art of using the law system to his advantage and keep all his business dealings technically legal. However, it was that very confidence in his infallible skill that would be his undoing.

"He won't consider you a threat, which would work to your advantage. It will be tricky, but with careful research and study, you can gather the evidence you need. You'd be surprise where you can find useful resources to help." Bakura reassured Marik. Perhaps if he could divert Marik's need for revenge, then he could keep him from doing something he would regret later on. Bakura, despite his many years in the profession, had killed only a handful of people, all out of self-defense. Even to this day, that still haunted him. He was a thief – he did not want to be a murderer.

"… Okay. I'll ruin his name. I'll make him pay." Bakura sighed for a moment before he heard Marik's next question. "You'll help me, right?" Bakura blinked, not looking at Marik as he thought about his request. In order to find the evidence they needed to incriminate Yami, it was likely not going to be done legal. Chances are, if Yami knew they were trying to prosecute him, he could use the law to hound them as criminals. He knew he couldn't do that – he promised Ryou he would be going to clean after this. Hell, Bakura wanted to get out after this mission. The more he thought about it, the more he felt ready to move on.

But at the same time, Bakura working with Marik would be the perfect way to keep Marik safe. So long as he kept to the background, perhaps Bakura could help in little ways, not getting directly involved. Surely it wouldn't be a crime if he was just researching, right? Bakura sighed as he knew he was putting himself on a slippery slope. He knew damn well what he was trying to do – he was looking for an excuse to stay in the business and not leave his career. And right after he promise Ryou to move on with his life. He owed it to his brother and himself to not get caught up in criminal business after this mission.

Bakura knew that he would have to turn down Marik – as much as he liked the kid, he needed to focus on himself, moving on from his life of crime. He looked up to meet Marik's eyes, regretting the action as he stared into his pleading lavender eyes. There was so much hope and trust in his expression, a belief that Bakura would say yes and stand with him. Bakura forgot what he was going to say as he stared at Marik's eager face. Before Bakura could really think about the consequences of his actions, he groaned in frustration. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Bakura's frustration diminished slightly as he saw that genuine smile on Marik's face, one that made his feel warm. "Thank you, Bakura. You have no idea how much this means to me." Bakura sighed, guilt and annoyance eating at him. He was glad to help Marik, knowing that his acceptance and offer of help was more than what Marik had been expecting. But that didn't change the fact that he now made two promises he couldn't keep to two people he cared about. Fuck. I'm making my life more difficult.

He watched as Marik stood up to grab a laptop, a soft smile on his face whenever he glanced over at Bakura. The albino watched for a moment, a forced smile on his face to reassure Marik, the teen unknowing of Bakura's dilemma. He glanced over at his bag and stood to grab it, his mind racing. The more he thought about it, the more realized how screwed he was. He should have said no instead of trying to make everyone he cared about happy. When did he become such a softie? This was a fucking mess now.

What have I gotten myself into this time?