Pairing: Bakura x Yami
Genre: AU, general
Rating: PG
Words: 632
Summary: Bakura, the bartender at a bustling casino, meets a rather intriguing patron.
Dedication: To LilPurplFlwr, who is my idol, love, and coconspirator for world domination.
A/N: Because LilPurplFlwr is the best person in the world and I love her fic "Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here," so I had to write a little fanfiction for her fanfiction. Because Bartender Bakura is the total awesomeage (whoa, check out the alliteration). oo Set in the realm of "Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here"—Vegas, baby! Go read her fic now if you haven't already—I command thee!

Memory Album
Installment Thirteen: Intrigue

Well, hello.

A customer. A very good-looking customer, to clarify. Slender, petite build, yet toned in all the right places. Svelte figure and tapered waist, rounded thighs with the light definition of underlying muscle. Fashionable club-style hair dyed a myriad of colors: red, purple, black, blond. A heart-shaped face with sharp, dark features. A soft mouth, curved in a way that resembled the petals of some exotic flower.

Oh, but those eyes.

Those were the types of eyes that lured saints into iniquity. They raged with a subdued fire, challenging one to unleash their power. They reflected every single desire that one could harbor, and promised all the more.

Bakura found himself caught within that intense gaze, and leaned over the counter as the other sat down.

"What can I get you?"

"Scotch on the rocks." A smooth voice, deep and alluring.

Bakura went about his business, preparing the drink. As he was pouring the alcohol into the glass, he couldn't help but think that it was a strangely appropriate drink for such a fiery person.

The glass slid smoothly across the surface of the bar to be snatched up by slender fingers. The other man lifted the glass to his lips, letting the cool liquid burn down the column of his throat. Bakura watched the slow bob of his Adam's Apple with intense admiration.

"Hard night of gambling?" he asked conversationally, hoping to persuade the handsome man to stay just a bit longer.

A soft clink sounded as the glass was placed down, and the other wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Mm, you could say. A hard night for the dealers."

His eyebrow arched as he listened to the other while absently polishing some glasses. "Big win?"

"Quite a few, actually." Another sip, eyes fluttering shut.

He chuckled softly. "Watch out or you might put the casino out of business, there."

The only response he received was a sly smile.

Normally, around this time, he would be scanning the crowd around the lounge, constructing their past with his imagination. A balding middle-aged man—he suffered from depression as a teenager up through his twenties; eventually turned to alcoholism. A young debutante—she's secretly a cutter, hence the long-sleeve dress, and is engaged to a boy well beneath her class. He found enjoyment in picturing the past of the many faces he saw every day, and it became somewhat of a hobby of his.

But for some reason, he simply could not tear his eyes away from the interesting young man before him.

"So what's your name?"

Soft lips quirked demurely, and the man with the startling eyes leaned over the bar, face hovering close to his. "Why do you want to know?"

Bakura could feel the other's breath ghosting against his face, and he could care less about the other customer that just sat down. "Just curious, I guess you could say."

The glass was lifted once more to rose-stained lips, and after another sip, the other answered. "Yami."

"Yami," he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue in velvet syllables. "Nice to meet you."

"Mm, same to you…" a pause as crimson eyes glanced down at his nametag, "… Bakura-san."

The newly arrived customer coughed politely, inviting his attention. He turned his head to nod at him, reassuring him that he'd be right over in a few moments.

Yami merely smiled softly again, sitting back up in his chair. "I see that you're a busy man, Bakura-san, and so am I. It's a shame, but I'm afraid I must take my leave now." And with that comment, he slid smoothly off the barstool, making his way out into the lounge.

"Perhaps I'll see you around."

Watching the disappearing figure, Bakura sure hoped that he would.