Disclaimer/Note: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or either of the characters used in this story. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi, and whoever he sold his soul to. This fic was written solely for the amusement of those choosing to read it, and no copyright infringement was intended. All original concepts/ideas and the story itself are original (duh) and belong to me. Do not steal. This is the final piece of the two-part sequel to my other Logicshipping fic, Dreamer . Please enjoy.

Unfinished Masterpiece

He had taken the steps two at a time when he came to the conclusion that the elevator was taking too long. He had nearly shot the skinny young man in the parking garage when he was asked if he could hand over his ticket stub. From there, he had sped through downtown Domino, running two red lights and nearly killing a man who had been trying to cross the street in front of him. There was a police car tailing him with sirens blaring and lights flashing, but – somehow – he could not bring himself to pull over. He did not have time to slow down, he told himself. Seto pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, the car swerving slightly as he struggled to get it out, and he realized that the 'speed dial' function was a brilliant invention. When pushing a hundred and sixty kilometers per hour, it was usually a good idea to keep both eyes on the road.

"Isono," he barked the name as soon as the individual on the other end answered, not even giving the older man time to acknowledge it. "Get the Domino International Airport on the line, and stall all flights to Egypt."

"Sir? How---" Isono began to ask, but was brutally cut off by his employer.

"Look, I don't care if you have to call in a goddamn bomb threat, but if that plane takes off I'll have your head. Understand?"

"Yes, sir! Is there---"

"Tell airport security I'm on my way, and that if they don't let me through, I'll shoot them and bankrupt their company. Also, there's a patrolman following me; get rid of him." As soon as Seto finished giving the order, he snapped the phone shut and dropped it onto the seat beside him. He allowed himself the ghost of a smile as he flew up the freeway 'on' ramp; having the entire city nestled in the palm of his hand, ready to crush at a moment's notice, seemed to have perks even outside of card games and over-the-top promotional endeavors. Good to know.

The airport exit was coming up on his right, and Seto downshifted to fourth to accelerate, glancing up to his rearview mirror to check on the police car. He could not hear the siren any more, but the lights were still on, and it did not appear that the officer had any intention of backing off. Seto growled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he zipped down the 'off' ramp. He turned right sharply, ripping up on the emergency brake and letting the vehicle's back end fishtail dangerously as he drifted through the corner going a hundred and thirty before dropping it and speeding through the intersection. The patrol car was just barely getting onto the street when Seto smashed the front of his new black Prius through the wooden gate at the entrance of the airport parking terminal.

That small smile of his returned. He loved front-wheel drive cars.

He slowed down considerably on the winding access that led up through the many-tiered levels of the parking garage, but gunned the engine when he reached the third floor. The tires chirped loudly as they skidded and then caught on the cold concrete, leaving a thin layer of black rubber in their wake. He whipped into the first empty spot he found, aiming too wide and slamming the edge of his front bumper into the side of the unfortunate car next to him. Seto did not stop, did not tap the brakes or shift into reverse. Instead, he powered through the collision, scraping along the side of vehicle until his own had straightened into the parking spot. Wrenching the driver side door open was impossible at this point, though, regardless of how hard the young CEO pushed and shoved, adding hundreds of thousands of yen in cosmetic damages with every new dent. Not that it really mattered; he would write a check for the owner later.

After crawling over to the passenger side, which was quite the feat for someone so tall, Seto let himself out of the slightly smoky vehicle, retrieving his cell phone before his long strides carried him through the revolving doors of the airport's main terminal. Then it was down the escalators to the bustling main lobby with its endless lines of confused would-be passengers checking their itineraries and complaining about the layovers. He paused briefly at the bottom of those escalators to scan the departure kiosk; surely, he reasoned, there could not be multiple flights to Egypt from Domino. Soon enough he saw that there was no need to rush: the word "DELAYED" flashed in the spot where the departure time for her flight should have gone. It seemed that Isono had done his job well.

That was good. Seto was almost fond of that man. He would have hated to dispose of such a hard worker.

-----

Isis was waiting for him at the gate when he arrived, immaculate and perfect and beautiful as always. She made sure that there was no evident surprise on her features when he walked over to her; the only hint of emotion lay in the way her delicate brows had been knit together. Was that a glimpse of anger, or confusion that she struggled to control? It was hard for even her to distinguish between the two. She turned then, making as if to walk away and board the plane now that their eyes had met. Seto reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm – just above the elbow – and pulled her back to him instead, perhaps so that he could whisper in her ear. She beat him to it.

"Don't you think that this is a little drastic?"

". . .Where are you going, Ishuza?"

"I. . .I'm going home, Set. Back to Egypt, and my brothers. You had to have known that I could not stay for---"

"Ishuza," there was a deliberate pause after her name, and whatever she had been going to say drifted off into silence. "Where are you going?"

He had said it slowly, with a strange implication that she was slow to understand. If he had not sounded quite so calm and reasonable she would have been more prepared. Truthfully, she had been expecting him to storm onto the plane angrily, had been steeling herself for a screaming match. At the very least, she thought he would have started cursing by now.

She stumbled over a wordless explanation, mouth working silently as she tried to come up with the desired answer. What, exactly, was he asking her for, anyway? He knew where she was going; she had already told him twice now.

Perhaps he was looking for 'why.' Yes, that must have been it. She caught herself in the middle of her unprofessional blundering, and took a brief moment to collect herself. Seto watched her closely, eyes narrowed and lips tight. Yet he did not seem angry. Isis lowered her head slightly, fixing her gaze on his hand.

". . .I'm still a priestess, Set. I have a responsibility to my people and my family," she began carefully, without waver or falter. "It is my duty."

"And my suggestion?" he prompted suddenly, his lips practically touching her ear now. "From the café?"

"This is the real world, Set," she answered, trying to keep the emotion from her voice as she moved back. It was difficult, but she had been blessed with an admirable tenacity. Even now, she would not let him see her weakness. "And there is no reprieve for heretics and blasphemers. I carry my punishment with pride; why can't you?"

"If this is more of your reincarnation and destiny theories, I'm not interested." He tightened his hold on her, his other hand catching her chin and forcing her to look up at him. They were coming closer again without even realizing it; he still bent down to her level, and she rising on tiptoe. There was no uncertainty anymore. They had already admitted that they were in love, regardless of how impossible the relationship. "This life is all that I have."

"Of course. . ." she murmured, closing her eyes when the hand on her chin shifted to her cheek and became a caress. "Because you don't believe in 'forever,' do you. . .?"

He did not answer her. Instead, he closed the gap between them, kissing her deeply. She did not pull away or struggle, placing her hands on her chest and gripping the thick fabric of his jacket as she returned it. There was a sense of fear and uncertainty there in that kiss; a desperation that he had not allowed her to see in his expression or hear in his voice. It was rough and hard, his lips bruising her own with passion. Seto's other hand released her arm, coming around to rest his warm palm on the small of her back as he pulled her closer still. She was aware of people staring from the sidelines, but chose to ignore the nagging whisper of her conscience when it tried to remind her that she could be stoned to death for this blatant show of affection.

It was Seto who pulled away first, mouth moving to her forehead to bestow a small, trembling kiss. Isis laid her head against his chest, just below his collarbone. She was surprised by how well she seemed to fit there."Stay with me," he murmured the soft command into her hair, grip around her torso tightening. "Ishuza. . .I can give you everything you've ever wanted. All you have to do is---"

"Could you abandon your brother, if I asked you?" she interrupted, looking up in time to see a flicker of emotion cross his face. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, too quick to be identified. Isis would have guessed that it was pain, a muted frustration at their predicament. She offered him an apologetic smile as she stepped out of his embrace. He did not fight her this time. ". . .Neither can I."

"I won't let it end like this, Ishuza," he warned her, fingertips lingering on her skin. That drowsy intimacy was back in her eyes, that raw lover's need scrawled across her countenance. She did not even bother trying to hide or obscure it this time. He reached for her, hand jerking convulsively just before making contact and stopping short. She took another step back, afraid that his touch would shatter her resolve. "I'll find you, wherever you go. I. . .I have to have you, and I'll stop at nothing to get you."

But Isis just continued to smile at him, regarding his outstretched hand and little boy antics with a rueful shake of her head. He was still so young. . .sometimes she forgot that. Sometimes, when she looked deep into those lapis blue eyes, she could still hear him speaking long-dead tongues, talking of priests and gods and the sins they had to commit for the sake of the Pharaoh. It was hard, sometimes, to remember that those days were gone, that the High Priest's burning passion and unshakable faith were all that had survived the reincarnation cycle.

No, wait. That did not seem right.

Isis turned, nodding her head in acknowledgement to the man guarding the gate. She walked through the collapsible hall back to her plane, her thoughts heavy. He was not so young now, was he? Younger than her, certainly, but no child all the same. He did not make promises to her the way a child would; he said everything with the strength and conviction of a man. Isis thought of the way that he had kissed her, letting her fingertips dance across her lower lip. He did not love like a child. He loved the way she knew he would, loved the way that he always had: hard and rough and passionate, terrified of making a mistake or overstepping some boundary, the kind of love that was easy to drown in if one was not careful. That was the way she remembered him from all those years ago.

Isis ducked her head when entering the plane, not caring that the action was unnecessary. She was not tall enough to need to for this flight. Taking her seat calmly, despite the strange looks she received from the other passengers, Isis tried to not focus on the events of the last few minutes. She stared out the window pointedly, hands clenched tightly in her lap. No matter how hard she tried, though, she could not get her mind away from Seto and that determined look in his eyes, in the sharp lines that appeared around his mouth when he decided on a course of action.

He was still the man she loved, despite the passing of time, and it hurt to think that the gods would not allow them to be together in this lifetime, either.

"I carry my punishment with pride," she murmured the words to herself, inwardly grimacing at how hollow it sounded now.