Notes: KeraJeir - Do I need a beta? I'm churning these out pretty quickly, perhaps I made a few mistakes. Oh, and please forgive my English spelling, even though I realise the majority of people reading this are probably American.
XxGirlsXxNotXxGrey - Erm... Either Maadri or Maggie? Enlighten me, if you know me you probably know how thick I am.
Anyway, on with the fic!
Use The Man
Chapter 4
Bakura was about two blocks away from the welcoming safety of his light's humble flat when he raced around a corner and felt a stabbing pain in the back of his neck, something he could have avoided easily if he hadn't been so panicked. His momentum had him stumbling forward, snarling like a wounded animal and turning to glare murderously at whatever had hit him. He wasn't surprised to see Seto Kaiba, who was staring down at him like he was expecting something to happen. The CEO didn't look as worried as he should have, being confronted by a growling, desperate yami no Bakura. Before the thief could decide where to strike first he noticed the glint of something sharp in Seto's hand and backed a few steps away, touching the back of his neck and bringing his fingertips away stained with a small smear of blood. It wasn't enough for that to have been a knife, or anything designed to kill him outright. It had to be a drug, which meant he had to get out of there before it kicked in.
Seto seemed to see that Bakura had realised what was going on and was about to bolt. Taking a step forward he tossed the dart he'd been holding aside and raised his hands, showing a lack of any other weapons.
"This is for your own good." The brunette claimed sincerely, knowing that if Bakura managed to make a break for the darkness of the park behind him it might take all night to find him once he passed out. The risk of him being found by someone else and the police being called worried Seto, since that would involve hospitals and Ryou, the two things he suspected Bakura would rather keep out of the whole affair.
"Whatever delusions convinced you this was a good idea are about to get you killed," Bakura hissed, murder in his eyes. A wave of dizziness swept over him suddenly and he dropped to a defensive crouch on one knee, snarling in frustration. He didn't know what Seto had done to him but it made his muscles feel weak and a heavy sleepiness overcome him, too strong for him to fight. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. The blade he kept in the back of his boot was in his hand in a flash and he dared Seto to come any closer to him, darkness crackling tangibly in the air around him.
"This doesn't have to be so difficult, Bakura..." Seto tried, knowing that it was useless and there was no way the greatest thief in all of the ancient world was about to give up and let himself be captured without a struggle. Bakura was stubborn on a level to match Seto himself, and that was quite an achievement. It was probably best, the CEO decided, to let the tranquilizers kick in - perhaps distract him until he passed out.
"What exactly is 'this'?" The thief demanded in a low, dangerous voice. It wasn't the cackling, slightly deranged voice he used to scare the pharaoh and his friends when they were dueling. This was the dark, genuinely murderous voice he used when he actually did want to kill someone. The voice that made it clear he was far more than he looked. It was a good reality check, Seto decided. This wasn't just some twenty year old junkie who happened to be good with knives kneeling on the gravel path in front of him, this was an ancient Egyptian murderer – a man who'd terrorized his entire country, escaped death countless times and even when he had died it hadn't stopped him. Even the all-encompassing power of the Pharaoh couldn't stop this man, who never seemed to stay down for long. That thought made Seto narrow his eyes and take a step back, reminding himself just how clever Bakura really was. Apparently just in time, because the thief gathered what strength he had left and decided that if flight was not an option he had to take care of his attacker before the tranquilizers made him helpless.
Lunging forward with the knife, Bakura managed to catch Seto a deep gash across the leg, just above the knee. If the CEO hadn't already been stepping back at that moment it would have been a lot worse, but as it was he just gave a harsh growl of surprised pain, staggering back and looking down at the blood soaking through his torn uniform. Looking back to where Bakura knelt, he watched the thief drop to his hands and knees, panting with the effort of not passing out. Realizing he wasn't going to be able to stop it, he looked up through the curtain of his long, white hair and fixed his dark eyes on Seto.
"You had better pray to whatever god watches over you that I never wake from this." The thief whispered, before collapsing forward. His voice had been deathly serious, and as Seto watched Bakura's body go limp he wondered if this had been such a good idea. Selflessness wasn't his area of expertise, certainly not when it put his own life at risk. He always had liked a challenge, though, and Bakura was definitely that. He just hoped that the single bargaining chip he had – not mentioning any of this to Ryou – would be enough to tame the tomb robber. At least, for the time being. It all depended, he supposed, on how far Bakura would go to keep his addiction a secret from his little light.
XxXxX
Seto Kaiba's limousine driver was well paid, even more so tonight. He helped the CEO lift the unconscious young man into the stretch car, laying him across two of the back seats. Seto had warned him off touching the white haired man for a few minutes, watching warily in case passing out was some kind of act and he could spring into action at any moment. There was blood spreading out into the torn fabric of his employer's clothes, just above his knee. Having worked for the man for years, the driver knew enough not to ask if Seto needed help and simply made himself useful lifting their surprisingly light guest. The drive back to the Kaiba mansion was quiet, although not uncomfortably so. Seto never usually indulged himself in small talk, but this time he seemed to have a lot on his mind and the driver left well alone. It was all to do with the mysterious creature sleeping like the dead on the back seat, judging by the glances Seto occasionally sent his way.
At the mansion the driver lifted Bakura from the back seats and followed Seto in through the large front doors, up the stairs and into a guest bedroom across from Seto's own. The CEO was limping slightly, but nothing was said.
Once the young man was laid on top of the clean, white sheets, the driver bowed politely to his boss and excused himself, heading out. He didn't ask questions, that wasn't his place and was why he'd remained employed with the millionaire for so long. For something as relatively simple as carrying an unconscious young man up a few stairs he'd earned a healthy Christmas bonus. It was worth the mystery to know how pleased his wife would be for the extra money.
"Wait." Seto's deep voice sounded as the driver made to close the bedroom door behind him. The man stopped, bowing again.
"Yes, Mr Kaiba?" He asked, wondering what else he could do.
"You won't be needed for a few days, I'll be working from home. You'll be paid in full for the time off, consider it a holiday." The CEO instructed, before turning back to the figure on the bed and paying his faithful driver no more mind. Bowing once more anyway, the limousine driver left with a slight smile, knowing that for all the gray areas of morality Seto skirted occasionally, he was still a good employer. His wife was definitely going to be happy with him.
XxXxX
Once the door had closed, Seto listened to the sounds of his driver moving down the grand staircase and out of the mansion, then the purr of the limousine's engine starting and the crunch of gravel under tires as it glided out of the grounds. Finally content that there would be nobody else around for at least three days – Mokuba having been shipped off to stay with friends and well out of danger – Seto looked down at the creature on the bed. Bakura was pale and breathing softly, looking anything but threatening in his sleep. It was hard to believe – seeing him this way – that he had the potential to be so vicious. The man laying on the sheets with his dark eyes closed, long eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks and snowy hair softening the sharp angles of his attractive face looked no more threatening than Ryou. Yet he'd once tried to bring a death-god to life, determined to obtain the power to destroy the world.
The wound on his leg stung, the blood drying uncomfortably where it had run down his shin. He would have to take care of that, but Bakura took priority for the time being. If the thief woke up Seto knew he wouldn't get the chance to explain himself before the violence started - he was sorely tempted to forget trying to be understanding about the whole thing and just chain Bakura down.
Watching the tomb robber frown slightly in his sleep, Seto decided he had better stop dithering and do something so that he could go and take care of his leg. He'd placed a pair of handcuffs on the dresser earlier, unsure of whether he would actually use them or not. Having already been wounded once before he'd even gotten Bakura back to the mansion, Seto decided that their use was warranted, no matter how much he disliked it. It probably wouldn't give the thief a very comfortable first impression when he woke up, but there was little else he could do other than keep Bakura sedated. The aim was to get him off the drugs, not force more on him. Using the tranquilizer dart had been a difficult decision, but deemed necessary when Bakura had run out of the classroom. Sedatives weren't, for the time being. They were an option, though, if the thief refused to cooperate.
For the time being, Seto picked up the heavy handcuffs and listened to the sharp click as one end closed around one of the bedposts. Feeling odd even touching the sleeping thief and half expecting his skin to be cold, Seto lifted the dead weight of one of Bakura's arms and clicked the other side of the cuffs into place around his thin wrist, effectively tethering his captive to the bed. Bakura was a world class thief and it was likely that he could pick the lock, but that would take time which Seto could use to explain himself. Well, if all went according to plan, anyway.
It was unlikely that Bakura would be waking up for at least another couple of hours, so after handcuffing one of his wrists to the bedpost Seto left the room, heading for the large bathroom at the end of the corridor. Each of the bedrooms in the large mansion had its own en suite bathroom, but the largest one was where the medical supplies were kept. The other bathrooms had plasters, aspirin and a few other essentials, but the cut was deep and Seto decided that the full kit was in order. On top of having a murderously angry five thousand year old heroin addict in his house, he really did not need the wound to get infected.
Switching on the lights in the bright, clean room, Seto lifted the first aid kit down from the cupboard above the sink and perched on the edge of the jacuzzi-style bathtub. He opened the large plastic box and neatly spread out everything he was going to need on the corner of the bath next to where he sat, wincing slightly as he rolled up his trouser leg to take a look at the wound. The dried blood stuck to his skin unpleasantly and Seto turned on the bath tap, wetting a clean flannel and using it to wipe the area around the wound. It was deep, but not serious and the bleeding had slowed almost to a stop. It was in an inconvenient place – not that there really was a convenient place to get stabbed, he reminded himself – since his leg flexed with every step he took and pulled at the wound. It didn't really need sutures, but Seto cleaned the area around the gash a little better and put them on anyway, just in case. The cream that he slathered over the wound before the sutures went on stung a little, but he gave no outward sign that it had hurt and instead of complaining – there was nobody to hear him anyway – he unwrapped a roll of bandages and proceeded to dress the injury. The cream had put a stop to the last of the bleeding and it didn't take long to wrap his leg, standing up and taking a few steps across the room to see how it felt. There was a little pain so he swallowed a couple of aspirin with a glass of water from the tap, then neatly packed the first aid kit back into the box and put it away. Heading out of the bathroom, he noticed that he was still limping sightly and attempted to walk without doing so. It was a lot more painful, but he could do it if he needed to. That was good to know, now he just had to remember not to rest his laptop on it without thinking.
After visiting his own bedroom briefly to change out of his uniform and into a pair of comfortable jeans and a baggy white t-shirt, Seto returned to check on Bakura. No change, he was still sleeping off the dart. Standing in the doorway for a moment, Seto wondered what to do. He couldn't get on with any of the work waiting for him on his precious laptop, since he had more important things on his mind at present – such as not being murdered once the tomb robber returned to the land of the conscious. Making Bakura something to eat and drink for when he came to sounded like a good idea, so Seto left the sleeping thief once more and headed down the stairs, finding them rather more painful than walking on a level surface. Grinning and bearing it seemed to be the best option, without the grinning. Once he made it down the stairs he thought idly about having a lift installed at some point, wandering the halls towards the kitchen. Once there he stood in the middle of all the shining stainless steel, wondering what on earth ancient Egyptian tomb robbers liked to eat. He usually had staff to do this sort of thing for him, but they'd all been sent away for a week – on full pay, of course – to 'give him space to work.' It had happened before, so there was no reason for any of them except the driver to suspect that he had an ulterior motive.
A sandwich would probably do. He could cook – bringing Mokuba up had ensured that – but at the moment he had better things to be doing. Such as waiting for Bakura to wake up and then attempting to explain what was going on before the thief gutted him. Arrangements had already been made for the thief's college work, so that was no problem. Not that he really ever did any work when he did go in. If he had taken any class other than English – which was taken purely for the fact that Ryou's heritage guaranteed him a pass – Seto wondered what it would have been. What type of subject was an ancient thief likely to be good at? It made him realize just how little he really knew about Bakura. Was he the artistic type? Maybe science or IT, if he liked to learn new things. He had a little trouble with math, since he couldn't quite seem to grasp why the concept of zero was so important. Perhaps drama would have been something he would have excelled at, he was a good actor, after all. He could pull off playing Ryou, even when they had such utterly different personalities. They didn't even look that much alike now, at least not to someone who knew them both. Ryou was all-aroundsofter, his looks, his way of speaking and his attitude. There was a darkness that hung over Bakura, something that had always been there. Lately he'd developed the dark smudges beneath his eyes as well, and the slightly gaunt look about him that made it easy to pick him apart from the healthy, perpetually smiling Ryou. It was hard to believe they'd ever been fooled in the first place.
Now, what did evil, ancient Egyptian grave robbers like in their sandwiches? Seto opened the large refrigerator and perused its contents, looking for something Bakura was likely to eat. He tried to think back to what he'd seen Bakura eat at the school, but the thief usually left after his course and hardly ever graced the canteen with his presence. Seto had seen him sitting outside, perched on the wall eating one of those awful, tasteless health bars that Ryou occasionally bought in. He'd also seen him lurking near his light sharing fries from that disgusting Burger World travesty, although the look on Bakura's face had shown exactly what he thought of the grease-drenched filth. Shuddering at the thought of fast food, since Mokuba had forced it on him more than once, Seto reached for the cheese and tomatoes, deciding that Bakura could probably do with something healthy before what he was about to go through.
Making the food only took a couple of minutes, and Seto placed it neatly on a tray with a cup of hot tea and a few snacks, carrying it carefully up the stairs again with a slight frown of annoyance at the pain in his leg. It was going to be one of those things that only bothered him if he focused on it, he could tell. Well, there were plenty of other things that needed his attention, so hopefully it would distract him from the fact that he had a three inch long gash just above his knee.
Entering the room where he'd had his driver lay Bakura, Seto half expected the thief to jump out from behind something and attack him. When nothing untoward happened Seto placed the tray down on the bedside table and pulled a chair up beside where Bakura slept. It wouldn't be long now before he woke, since he was already frowning softly in his sleep, turning his head to the side and giving a growled little moan that somehow managed to sound half sensual and half threatening. Watching the thief begin to wake, Seto sat back in his chair and straightened his injured leg out, hoping that he could get through the night without any further need for first aid. The next half an hour was going to be hard work. Hard work that could kill him if it wanted to.
TBC