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See chapter one for disclaimer.

Chapter Fifteen

(In which Malik is jealous.)

Malik narrowed his eyes; from where he was, he had a clear view to the place where Pegasus was sitting, on the balcony, while he was himself hidden from view. Not that it mattered: neither the millionaire nor his guest seemed to care whether they were being watched or not.

Pegasus was comfortably leaning back in his chair, smiling his crazy smile, and waving around so that Malik was surprised (and disappointed) that the wine in his glass hadn't been spilled all over him yet. Clearly, the inventor of duel monsters (Malik snorted even while thinking this: making all this money with a thousands of years old game that he'd ripped off!) had a lot of practice with this.

The young man who was sitting across of him, very straight on his own chair, as it could be expected from a polite visitor, only leaning forward from time to time, was not paying attention to anything but Pegasus' words either. Malik could occasionally catch sight of his face, which was showing this mixture of cheerfulness and seriousness he had never seen on anyone else (at least he didn't want to think that it bore some resemblance to Pegasus' expression).

The guest had a glass of apple juice standing in front of him, but hadn't touched it since the two of them had started their conversation, which seemed like hours ago. Malik liked to think that he was smart enough not to drink anything Pegasus had given him; he was quite aware, however, that it had probably more to do with the fact he was too caught up in their conversation to care about anything at all, drinking included. At least he'd outright refused alcohol.

As much as he tried, he didn't manage to understand what they were saying: he managed to catch a few isolated words from Pegasus high-pitched voice, but not a tone from Ryou's soft voice carried over to him.

"Could you stop staring at them just for five minutes? I know that my former host is quite entrancing to look at, but I haven't changed that much..."

Under the teasing tone, there was a hint of real irritation. Malik blinked, and slowly turned his head away from the scene on the balcony to look around himself, seeming to only slowly realise where he actually was: he was half sitting half laying on a large, comfortable pile of pillows, in an rather large and nice room, if you could call the disturbingly childish nature of most decorations, from Funny Bunny posters to masses of stuffed animals "nice". The semi-obscurity of the room was contrasting with the bright light outside, offering at least some excuse for the fact that Malik needed this long to again become aware of his surroundings.

The excuse did not, however, work for his total obliviousness to the hands that were drawing small circles on the back of his neck, and the body right behind himself, and which was touching him whenever he was making the slightest move, which, admittedly, had not been very often, entranced as he had been, indeed, by the object of his observation.

Malik finally locked gaze with the man behind himself, and repressed a wince as he met his stone-grey eyes, looking down upon him. He'd had time to get used to the thief's new (old, whatever) form, but sometimes, he was still disturbed by it, especially in moments like this: Bakura, kneeing up behind him, was towering above him: as usually, his chest was bare, his physical strength very obvious, and this was not something Malik was used to.

Bakura had always been a dangerous adversary, skilled as he was on controlling shadow magic, and practically impossible to truly kill, but he had never been stronger than him, physically. Of course, as he was a spirit who possessed no physical form whatsoever, this was quite evident and quite irrelevant, but even when Malik had met an illusion image of him in Ryou's soul room, or when he'd been in control of Ryou's body, he had been weaker, and Malik had sort of preferred it that way.

Not that it really mattered, because Bakura could hardly be called an adversary anymore: since the ritual, he was acting quite out of character: firstly, he'd been quite horny. A lot. Malik supposed it wasn't such a weird reaction to getting your own body after such a long time, and he wasn't really complaining (he'd never said that he disliked Bakura's new body!), but the same couldn't be said about the other major change, or at least Malik couldn't see any reason for a connection: the ex-spirit had also become weirdly nice.

Not really nice, of course. But, by crazy-spirit-standards, he was being quite friendly. He had given in when Ryou had begged him to free Pegasus from the card and leave the man some freedom (Malik began to regret he had pleaded and threatened with Bakura to agree). Malik had found this rather suspicious, if pleasant, and would have worried about it more, if he hadn't found something different to be worried about...

"I don't like being ignored," the thief murmured into his ear, managing to sound both menacing and seductive.

A few days ago, Malik would have rolled his eyes; now he didn't even bother doing as much, and simply turned his head back toward the balcony. Ryou was nodding at something Pegasus had said.

"They're here since midday," he murmured. "What the hell can they be talking about for so long?!"

"Death..." Bakura was running his fingers up and down his neck while speaking, making him shiver despite of himself; Bakura – or he, depending on how you looked at it – had an unfair advantage ever since he had his new body, as he knew all of Malik's sensitive spots, while his body was entirely new to discover. "Afterlife. Spirits."

He sounded smug.

"You do realise," Malik snapped, "That this doesn't include you anymore?"

Bakura's fingers went still for a moment.

"My host can hardly talk about his knowledge of the supernatural without talking about me..."

Malik made an impatient gesture, and turned round, irritated, when Bakura laughed softly behind him.

"You're jealous," the thief said, amused, and let his hand fall down.

"Like you're not," Malik hissed in return, not bothering trying to deny.

"Ryou can't leave me," Bakura replied haughtily.

"You're separated. He can now."

"We're still connected," Bakura snapped back.

Malik made a doubtful face, but decided not to argue.

"Aren't you going to tell us what it is you want from the girl?"

The girl. Pegasus had set her up in a room that had something of a hospital, all white and with an apparatus to monitor her health. There was nothing wrong with her, it seemed; she had woken up several times, just long enough to ask for water and collapse again. Bakura had been surprisingly open with information on other accounts, but he insisted that he didn't know who she was. Malik didn't believe him: why would he be sticking around, if he didn't have the slightest idea? There had to be a reason why he still hoped to gain something from her.

Bakura rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Are you using the royal 'we'?"

"I mean me and Ryou."

Of course, that didn't explain why he was still sticking around. He hadn't insisted on them making Pegasus complete the card for him. He hadn't made a run for it, now that Bakura no longer needed him and could become more dangerous than before. Instead, he had let the days trickle away, one after the other, peacefully, between his two lovers, and acknowledged no shadow but Ryou's insistence on leaving them to chat with their hostage.

In answer, Bakura turned away from him, then glanced up.

"He's coming," he said; Malik followed his gaze and found Ryou walking up to them; Pegasus was still sitting on the balcony, sipping his wine, looking like he had not a care in the world.

"Hi," Malik said, a little acidly, when Ryou sank down on the cushions next to them. He had to admit, he looked better than he used to, less subdued, like Malik had only seen him a few times in the throes of passion; and maybe that one time, when he'd roleplayed during their card game; and while Malik was glad of the change, it was an uncomfortable reminder of the fact that he was – had been this whole time – as much their prisoner as Pegasus was, and that, despite his adaptability, this bit of escape he'd been granted, the freedom to talk to someone else, was good for him.

Ryou leant against Bakura, who immediately let go of Malik to run his hands up and down Ryou's body; they still seemed surprised, almost every time anew, at their being separate, not only Ryou, but Bakura as well, and Malik found that he wasn't jealous of this bond he couldn't share. It was strange, though, to see the former spirit look at the one who had been his host with this kind of fascination. Malik had intercepted that look – full of want and almost fearful – a few times, and found it so unlike Bakura that he had wondered if the new body had fundamentally changed him.

"Is something the matter?" Ryou asked, and Malik turned around so he could face the two of them.

It was Bakura who answered, his hands stilling, still drawn around him:

"You're getting awfully close to Pegasus."

Ryou glanced from him to Malik, a little confused; not worried, though, and Malik was glad of that, that he didn't think their displeasure was something to fear. Of course, Ryou had grown to have strange notions about that.

"He knows a lot," Ryou explained. "He's read so many texts – in the original – about different beliefs about the afterlife."

Malik bit down a pout. He could read ancient Egyptian in the original, better than the most learned modern expert, certainly better than Pegasus, was that worth nothing?

"He still failed at what he wanted," Bakura remarked, but without harshness; his hand had stilled on Ryou's chest, where, hidden under his shirt, the millennium ring had to be.

"I didn't say he didn't," said Ryou, a little cross. "Did you check on Kisara?"

Kisara. That was the woman's name, though only Ryou had been present – sitting by her bedside – when she had said so.

"An hour ago," Bakura said, signing at Malik with his chin.

"She was the same," Malik explained.

"I'll go check on her," Ryou said, and detangled himself from Bakura, smiled at them both and stood up; Malik stared after him, a little helpless; he wanted him freed of the ring and he wanted him here; and he wanted Bakura whole too, and he wasn't sure if that was possible without the magic.

That made him think of something.

"Are you even still trying to collect the millennium items?" he asked detachedly, glancing back at Bakura.

"What is it to you?" Bakura asked, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

Malik shrugged.

"Do you know the holder of the key and the scale then?"

"Of course I do," Bakura snapped. "I know the location of all millennium items."

"Do you?" Malik asked sceptically. "Well, his name is Shadi."

"I know," Bakura said, with an exasperation that made Malik immediately doubt the veracity of that claim; he leant back on the cushions comfortably; he no longer was facing the balcony, and could pretend Pegasus wasn't there.

"Are you planning to go after him then?"

"Why?" Bakura repeated.

Malik shrugged casually.

"Just wondering..." He smiled. "Because if you do, I'd gladly offer my help..."

"Like I'd need your help."

Malik repressed a sigh.

"Yes, you already said that," he answered, with emphasised patience. "I didn't say you'd need my help. I said I'd gladly give you a hand..."

Bakura cooked his head to the side, intrigued.

"You're saying you want to help me get the items? What happened to your gratefulness to your pharaoh?" The sneer, as he said those words, was, as far as Malik could guess entirely unintentional and the hate genuine; so much for there being any chance of reconciliation.

"Help you find them. Shaadi is evil," Malik argued, sounding more confident than he was. "And Yuugi and the pharaoh would have to hunt him down eventually anyway."

Bakura stretched out his legs, and pushed lightly against Malik knee with his toes.

"He's one of your people, you know."

"Yeah, well." Malik looked at the ceiling. "So was I."

Bakura's mouth twitched; he was smiling.

"I'll keep the offer in mind," he promised. He pushed himself up. "I'll go check on Ryou, and her. Keep an eye on him," he added, motioning Pegasus with his chin.

Bakura – that was, his other, this Bakura – moved silently; it was something he had mastered over very little time, and one of the details Ryou stored away, in his mind; out of habit, perhaps, because things could always be lost, and they were easier to find again, in the meanders of his mind, when they had been previously ordered.

He only became aware of his presence when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and then Bakura was there, next to him; he turned round to meet his lips, and automatism, and they kissed, slow and long and deep; Ryou loved that he could recognise them both by the way they kissed, more so than before, in his soulroom: Malik had become familiar already back then. But his other, he had only realised in retrospective, had always held back a little, until now.

"Still asleep?" Bakura asked softly, looking at the pale girl, motionless on her white bed; Ryou nodded, and looked down at Bakura hand when he laid it on his chest; above – "Would you leave, if it weren't for the ring?"

Ryou looked up at his face, but it was expressionless.

"I would warn Yuugi," he answered; that was something he clung to, had to, or he would be swept away and have switched sides a long time ago; maybe he could ask Malik to warn Yuugi for him. Malik would say yes, now, he was almost certain of that, and maybe that was why he hesitated, because he wanted back to life, but he wanted this too.

When, as if in response, Yuugi's voice rang in his ear, he thought it a hallucination, brought on by his thoughts; it was only when Bakura's hand tensed on his chest that he realised that it must be real. Briskly, both of them jumped towards the window – the sick room was on the second floor – and there they were, coming down the way through Pegasus' park towards the patio, Yuugi, Jounouchi, Honda, Anzu, Kaiba, followed by two other people who seemed familiar as well.

Next to him, Bakura cursed loudly.

(end of chapter 15)

AN: I've been looking forward to this bit: they're together, there's time, they have convenient separate bodies – and then Ryou wanders off to make friends with Pegasus. XD

A reviewer asked whether I meant for Bakura and Ryou's relationship to come across as stronger than the one Malik has with either of them. The answer is – well, no, I didn't mean for it to seem like Malik is being left out, but I did mean for Ryou and Bakura to have a particular bond that Malik can't be part of; but in my mind, that's not a completely positive thing, since it could simply be the consequence of them happening to have shared a body, while Malik has been chosen and chosen himself to a greater extend. If that makes sense.

I'm sorry, but it will probably be a while before the next chapter is posted; I haven't written much of it yet, and life's a little busy. Then again, maybe that'll mean I'll procrastinate by writing.

As always, I love to hear from readers!