Okay I have no idea what Fanfiction's problem is with uploading this chapter so my apologies for the delay. Thanks for everyone who told me it wasn't up.

Last chapter of Act 2 this week guys. Act 3 beings next week and from there on out we're facing some serious Seer chaos.

Chapter 13: Chameleon Circuit

A hunt, another one, was always welcome in Atemu's mind. Things had been slow the past two weeks but blissfully so. Kaiba had gathered the gang for an ice cream parlour meet up and Yugi for one of his legendary Disney nights which involved a surprising amount of alcohol. Yami was making progress with that third book of his, which did not conflict with Atemu's sense of honour, but had made no progress in unwrapping more of the Pandora's Box of memories which was perhaps for the best. He had relented from telling Yugi any details of it till he had more to go off because, detective-esque, he wanted more evidence it wasn't just some bizarre fluke.

They'd received no word from the Gate Keeper to go ahead and siege the Seers but to Yami's knowledge Yugi had warned Kaiba and Ryou of some of the developments while they waited. Yami, for his part, had done plenty of theorising with Yugi on the matter of Jenzar's location in the meantime.

"So," Yami stressed trying to construct a time line round the Chinese carton in his hand, "Jenzar's Lance was outside Tartarus but Third Star said she let something that might've been Jenzar into Sanctuary four hundred years ago which just left."

"Right," Yugi concurred carefully, "so then… either Jenzar is prisoner in Tartarus or he escaped, mauled by Seers after dropping the Lance, and made it to Sanctuary to suck energy from Third Star to try and heal."

"What do you think the Seers did to him?"

"I can't imagine anything bad enough to end up with what Third Star told us," the Faen sighed, "cause…Well there isn't any way to destroy matter for good so I don't get how the Seers could've wrecked Jenzar like that. At the same time, if they've got him, I don't know what the heck got into Sanctuary."

"So why do we want to storm the heavily guarded Seer base again?" Yami pondered chortling.

"Well, cause, A: they might have Jenzar and B: if they don't we might at least get some idea of where he is or what the fuck happened to him. Until I know what happened it's almost impossible to know where else to look for him." Yugi answered as businesslike and strategic as ever even with chopsticks in his hands and Coco in his lap. "If I know how he's wounded I can track him. If he's captured by the Seers I can beat the crud out of them and save him. We just don't have all the pieces yet."

"Least we're making progress." The Reaper decided. "That's good. I mean we've got leads at least. We know who hurt him. That narrows it down from a universe of possibilities to following one trail."

"Thank God," he chortled. "Still my hunts always feel really tedious if there's something big I'm waiting for to splash everything up. Not that I haven't had fun the past two weeks, I mean, you are getting way better at syncing with me. I'm just itching to go."

"I know." Yami assured the Faen he wasn't in the least insulted. "I like being in on this conspiracy. I think you're right though. I think I am getting better at hunting than I've ever been. These are hard hunts with you cause they're Faen hunts and, sure, I still have to depend on you because I'm still kind of blind and clueless about what we're supposed to be doing when we jump in or how to fix things but once you tell me what to do its getting easier to keep up. I just wish my energy wasn't so damn limited. I can only blow off a couple handfuls of strong spells before I'm out of gas."

"Comes with the core and the memories when you unlock them," Yugi promised. "Reapers have stamina and you're a Specialist so you're going to be reallystrong. You'll have so much energy you won't know what to do with it. You'll be shooting off dozens of powerful spells without breaking a sweat. Just takes time."

"I wish it would hurry up. I feel like I'm retarded." He grunted stirring his Chinese round. "I can't remember anything."

"I know. It's a big frustrating wall," the other sympathised, "but the deeper you get in the pool the harder it gets to keep em back. You'll remember."

"I'll never have as much power as you though." Yami supposed. "Damn Faens and their never ending, self-perpetuating, magic supply."

"You don't want one." Yugi promised playfully. "It's a pain in the ass."

"Hey," he formulated round a mouthful, "about the Lance. You said physical spells won't work here so how did the Lance become a pendant, take on physical shape, here in the Natural World?"

"Didn't," the Faen answered simply, holding the little red pendant up between his index finger and thumb. "I put it in the pendant. The energy of the Lance followed me into the Natural World, it's linked to my soul currently, but even though the magic followed me it didn't have a physical form. So I transferred it into the pendant, gave it something to latch onto, while I'm awake. Then when I'm asleep hunting, Astral Projecting, I gather up the magic and take it with us. Make sense?"

"Yeah," he nodded in mild fascination. He was still rather cautious of laying his hands on the pendant even more so after it had lashed out at Bakura. "Can you do that with other stuff?"

"Oh yeah," Yugi nodded. "I have necklaces and rings and earrings filled with specific spells and magic vibes for specific things. I have a bracelet that shields my core signal without me having to consciously, I have earrings that help me study and focus, I have a ring that packs an extra dose of ass kicking against enemies like an energy spike. I have heaps of stuff really. It's like making Protection Boxes. It's a combination of conscious and subconscious magic but you stir in a little bit of gem mythology and symbology. Some materials take certain vibes of magic better than others when you're working spells into them and some fade quicker."

"You never fail to astound me with cool stuff," he quirked contentedly.

"And you never fail to be great company."

"You know, it's funny," Yami pondered offhandedly. "You look really different when you're Trey to when you're Yugi. The eyes are the same, definitely, but your hair is different."

"What else?" Yugi asked round a mouthful.

"Well…" he considered it. "Your skins about the same colour, just as soft actually, but your ears are a little more elfish when you're Trey. I don't know about your toes, I only seem to see them when you're Trey, but your hands are the same. Your nose, your eyelashes, actually you know…yeah…" Yami held his carton in one hand to brush Yugi's bottom lip with the thumb of his other. "Your bottom lip's a bit more pouty when you're Atreyu, fuller, kind of."

"So I'm ugly here?" He teased.

"No, you're just more human," Yami swore affectionately. "You're still just as cute."

"Heh," Yugi giggled weakly, flashing him a glimpse of that softly reminisce smile as he titled his face from the author's gentle grip. "This body scars, gets callouses, gets old. It's only meant to last under a hundred years."

"I still think you're gorgeous." He insisted.

It felt like a lifetime since he'd held Yugi enfolded in his arms and kissed that perfectly petite bottom lip with his clumsier foraging pair. The Faen seemed a little anxious at Yami's fussing almost embarrassed really the way he averted his eyes like some virginal maiden. This near blush was not at all the forceful spitfire the author knew most frequently as Yugi's private personality.

"That's another thing," Yugi distracted, pulling his legs up onto the couch to cross underneath him. "See considering the Lance of Lazarus I don't know how Seers could've taken Jenzar down. I guess anything's possible it's just scary to think they got him before he could activate its final form."

"Final form?" Yami coughed, pulling his imagination back to the present. "You mean the trident it looked like when Timaeus first brought it to us?"

"Oh no," the Faen answered. "You know how my Faen's Needle can be a lot of different shapes? Obviously Jenzar's Lance is just like that but it's got a final emergency form, an ultimate form basically, that blows all its other disguises out of the water. It's pretty small and docile for me but it can be massive when it wants to be and since it mimics Jenzar's heart it's sort of semi-aware."

"What's it look like?"

"That's a secret." Yugi winked. "I'll show you if I ever have to but until then it causes way too much of a mess just to open it up at random and, besides, it usually only works in an emergency anyway. Point is; with that it should have taken a lot of work to take down Jenzar."

"Was there anything Jenzar couldn't do?" Yami teased.

"Sometimes I was surprised he could tie his shoes." The Faen snorted. "The Seers must've caught him on an off day."

"When was it anyway?" He asked suddenly. "It was four hundred years ago, I know, but how…?"

"We were in-between reincarnations." Yugi explained. "He died a year or two before me. He should've been moving ahead but in my next lifetime he never showed up. He hasn't since then."

"How many lifetimes is that?" Yami supposed. "Four hundred years?"

"Um…" He calibrated, "about two every hundred years, roughly, so about… eight? This should be number nine."

"Shit." The Reaper sighed. "Last one you killed yourself, right?"

"Carolyn Smith," Yugi snorted nostalgically, "in the States. Everything was fifties perfect and factory new after winning the Second World War. I was a baby boomer but I only made it to the 1970s before I finally got rid of myself. "

Yami's gut twisted painfully at the concept.

"I was just so lonely. I was so sick of living. Ryou was out of sync with me, born in the Depression, died in Hiroshima a civilian mother of two starving. Kaiba was a ten year old boy in Alabama and by 1970 bored out of his brains till he got hit by a car. It's only because the three of us all got knocked off so unexpectedly we ended up together so close this cycle." He turned a little uncomfortably in his seat. "I hated life that time which was odd for me. I knew dying wouldn't help somehow but with my memories of being a Faen supressed I convinced myself that it would save me from the pain. It didn't of course but I like this life time better. It's less stifling. I've got you, Ryou, Kaiba, Mokuba, Joey, Amar, Sev, Morph, my Grandpa…I reincarnated to a good family and a good position this time rather than just drifting aimlessly but for a while there I really let myself go especially when Carolyn ended up in an asylum."

"I hate thinking that happened to you." He sighed.

"Ah fuck it," Yugi tossed dismissively, "I can still hear Carolyn sometimes but the rest of my past selves just tell her to shut the frig up. We've pulled ourselves back together. I'm a Faen, I'm not going to give up, but pain is something everyone has to feel sometime. I'm happier now than I have been for three hundred and ninety-nine years. So don't you worry about me."

"I don't," he promised, "I just… I hate thinking you were so alone. I love how much youlove life and how determined you are. You're as stubborn as a mule. You give everyone strength. I hate thinking you were so… It's just sad."

"It's over." The Faen emphasised. "I'm Yuginow. I'm closer to my true self, to Atreyu, and I'm not going to let my eternity be miserable or bogged down. Living a lifetime like Carolyn really got all the self-pity out of my system. It was a detox, it was healthy, and now I feel better. It's just the not knowing that's hard but like I keep saying: I've got you. So I'm stellar."

"Is it hard when you find bad memories?" He prodded with mild trepidation. He still hadn't figured out how to tell Yugi about what he'd written by accident. The death scene he'd upturned.

"Yeah," Yugi nodded, "but you learn to recover and it's quicker after the first time. You're going to be a bit bowled over when you remember the first time you killed someone, or the first time you died, or watched someone die or whatever. You'll be okay though. You'll grieve a little but Reapers are built sturdy to withstand it. Lots of other types aren't meant to remember because it breaks their minds or their sense of self. The soul stores all that info to internalise but ninety precent of types can't get past that big memory wall or shouldn't. It's just worth remembering that at one point or another everyonehas been something their current self would despise. Even me."

"What was the worst you ever were?"

"Heh," he giggled, turning the question away. "Never mind that, I feel like I'm eating the conversation. Tell me about your mum?"

"You and she will run off and ditch me." Yami chortled as he quoted the Faen carefully.

Atemu had seen Atreyu in an array of glorious disguises but this…

"That's…" He struggled. How to word this?

"Ridiculous." The Faen deadpanned dully.

"Enchanting," he breathed awed.

"I feel like an over-sized bird begging to be stuffed." Atreyu sighed as he tossed the fabric up through his fingers in a distant observation of the disguise. "Usually I prefer to be a little subtler."

"I don't believe this is a subtle dimension." Atemu answered gesturing sympathetically over his own costume. "Some kind of costume ball it seems?"

"Throughout the streets yes," the Faen concurred, relaxing minutely. "There are thousands of beings here from several dozen dimensions. They're all very peaceful however, in my experience, just prone to exuberant revelling."

"Then why summon us?"

"Guard duty." Atreyu murmured. "Like the Day of the Dead opens portals through the Veil this is a meeting place of several dimensions and during a party like this someone might not be able to resist disturbing the peace."

"Easily remedied," Atemu smirked, rather genteelly attempting to offer his arm to the Faen. "Shall we enter the festivities to better watch over them?"

"How could I resist?" He smiled. "This disguise may not be all to my tastes but there is a beautiful element to the spirit of this place. Shall we dance Atemu Pheramora?"

"A beautiful sentiment Atreyu Damestaire," he savoured the syllables, savoured the lilt of Atreyu's voice over his secret true name as he took the Faen close to his exposed body.

The realm they had entered was eccentrically charming. This was what Yami imagined medieval Venice to occur as and perhaps this place was a piece of it which had been saved from time or the inspiration for it. Delicate paper lanterns wafted unassisted, dangling, overhead like balloons in bright colours up and down the streets, over the canals and bridges, under the arch ways. The buildings were well cared for and softly golden in the hues of their tiling and stone work. Window boxes everywhere overflowed with flowers, they tumbled into the river, every house had its door flung open and extravagantly costumed creatures lined the bridges and overfilled the courtyards to dance, chatter and kiss more often than not.

Atemu's disguise included that Masquerade mask flourish he had seen pictures of. The mask itself was a fairly plain stretch of black fabric but the rest of his costume over compensated for the simplicity of it. The golden headdress, the heavy Egyptian collar, the long crimson cape, the black gold etched tunic over the thick white linen pants, the leather slippers, the cuffs… all he was missing was a shirt unsurprisingly but the night air was humid and inviting.

Now Atreyu was something to look at.

The shine of his mother-of-pearl mask almost fused with the milky white of his skin round two bright eyes intensified in their shine by the incandescence of the mask. The earrings must've been diamonds, tear drops, hiding in his thick dark hair which was heavily braided with blooming flowers. An array of roses capped the ridge of his fringe, crowning him with the fullness of the bursting petals. Those same flowers seemed to have been embroidered across his silver vest round tiny pearl buttons. A silver belt, slung low round his hip and trailing down the front of his white silk tunic over the clasp of his thighs, was nothing more than a string of gems held together like a fishing line caught round a mermaid.

The white of Atreyu's tunic just brushed the pavement, or would have, had it not been for the white ribboned ankle boots and the slight heel raising him. The tunic itself, while long, dismissed all illusion of a skirt by slitting up the sides of his thighs almost to the junction of his hips. With arms deliciously bare, bar those delicately wrought silver bracelets and the tiniest cuff of laced sleeves off his shoulders, Atemu could feel Atreyu's skin brush along the length of his chest as they walked.

The wings however had to be Atemu's favourite part of the costume. Atreyu seemed to find them garish but the six over lapping layers of various correspondingly sized pairs of wire shaped, muslin, and silver embroidered wings were mythic. The thinnest seemed to burst from the small of Atreyu's back and almost touch the pavement, the highest just on his shoulders were pixie-esque, and the remaining two sets in between were full and wide and glorious.

"The Lance?" Atemu whispered mildly as they strolled and silently Atreyu's eyes gestured down to a large ruby studded in the belt just over his pelvis. Yami envied it. Atemu, luckily, wasn't influenced by hormones.

He couldn't stretch his eyes very far down the crowded streets but to his surprise he was sure in all the energy signatures there were several large ones swirling under their feet. The roll of the energy was languid, eel like, under the paving stone and he almost asked but Atreyu leant his cheek into his shoulder.

"Sea serpents," he sighed, "in the canals. They're majestic and nothing for us to concern ourselves with. They own this city. They're a security system inbuilt into it."

"I would love to see one." Atemu had quite a preference for large supernatural beasts.

"I'll take you in a boat a little later." Atreyu promised easily. "I would rather be in the river with them."

"And take away this pretty picture?" He teased. "How could you be so cruel?"

"With surprising ease," the Faen retorted dryly. Atemu could nearly taste the other's urge to be slipping with eel strokes bare in the reeded canals of the city. It seemed rightful, natural, for Atreyu to be in such a place rather than here on the streets beside him.

"What about that dance then?" Atemu suggested as they found another booming, violin filled, courtyard with swirling courtiers round a Poseidon sculpted fountain in smooth marble.

"That I can enjoy," Atreyu allowed. "I'll let you lead shall I?"

"If you'd be so kind?" He chuckled as they girded the edge of the dance floor to ready themselves.

"Just this once."

Atemu was anxious, frozen nearly, and it was only Atreyu's momentum that urged him to take the Faen's waist under his left hand and grasp his milky white hand in the other as Atreyu rested its twin on his shoulder.

This was an entirely old world form of dance. There was pattern to it that Atemu's astral body seemed to follow effortlessly but all of the intertwined dancers seemed to show no preference for switching partners at any point. He quite liked that. He steadied himself and let Atreyu's light feet carry them round the fountain in a slow circuit. Atemu led but Atreyu, enfolded in his arms, still seemed to hold all the influence in his delicate grasp. Any motion of the Faen would be enough to stop Atemu's attuned body or give him permission to continue.

As it was he drifted. Atemu scanned the area with every swirl as they lingered in the courtyard for long motions and moments. While Yami or the more human part of him only took time to really see Atreyu's face and feel Atreyu's lithe form pressed into their strong posture. This was all Atemu wanted. He wasn't as physical as Yami. Being here he had no hormones but if he could spend forever dancing with Atreyu he would be content. If he could kiss that bare forehead, that cheek, press his lips even to a downy upper arm or an ankle every few decades he would be at peace. If he never lifted Atreyu up into his arms, a virginal bride, and carried the fairy off into one of the sensually thrown open houses to lay him on someone else's bed and devour he would survive.

Hands hooking at his waist Atemu hefted the Faen off his feet and almost over his head in a twirl, making him laugh twinkling, on an impulse. When he deposited him back on the tiles without ever stopping Atreyu's body leant more trustingly into his grasp, Atemu's lips against his forehead, the flowers crowning Atreyu filling his nostrils with bountiful perfume. Atemu considered it then, as Yami would have, considered throwing Atreyu over his shoulder like a conquering Pharaoh and finding some alcove to slip in between those tender thighs if they would have him.

How could Jenzar stand to be away from this? With living, human, Yugi or here, in a dream, with heavenly Atreyu how could any beating heart resist the temptation to stay forever? Like a traveller or a sailor lured to a doomed eternity forsaking mankind for some ethereal creature of old Atemu was spellbound after a taste. Jenzar must've been understandably charmed by the Faen and Atemu couldn't have blamed him. If he had permission to call Atreyu his, to taste his treasures, he would have defended his claim ruthlessly. He could have even been possessive. Would've locked the Faen up like a sacred relic somewhere distant and lonely but Atreyu was not his.

No. Atreyu was a living, immortal and eternal being with a heart that could not be satisfied by passing fancies or changed by a thousand years. Atreyu would mourn for an eternity, if need be, and Atemu could picture the Faen on a hilltop staring out to sea for his missing lover till he turned to stone and humans ceased to be and rabbits sung songs about them.

"Atreyu?" He whispered, both of his dark hands resting adoringly on that tight knit waist, as the Faen lulled them to a stop. "What is it little one?"

The Faen seemed to be looking beyond Atemu, beyond everything, into the crowd around them with both his tender hands lost on Atemu's shoulders. He seemed bewitched.

"Trey what's wrong?" He pressed hushed as his thumbs worried the bottom of Atreyu's winglike ribcage through the vest. He was so wrapped in Atreyu's expression of entranced awe he barely scanned the crowd the Faen was gazing off into.

"Stay here." The Faen murmured hoarsely and, a breeze, drifted clean out of his arms to weave through the dancers.

Atemu followed him with hungry eyes and when he almost lost sight of the Faen followed on hesitant feet as well. Order or no order he would not let the Faen be lost from his sight given the dangers that surrounded them regularly.

He could not see what had so fascinated, distracted and disturbed Atreyu until the Faen had almost reached it.

The man was youthful, little more than Atemu's age perhaps, but sombrely regal and looking dreadfully lost in the crowd as if he had stumbled into a royal ball off some harsh street or perhaps, in this case, from some other dimension along the Veil. The confusion in his eyes stretched deep beyond the surface of his expression. The man was more than dazed or lost. He was hopelessly bamboozled by his surrounding to the point where his lack of comprehension seemed to both frighten and pain him.

He was handsome, undeniably so, with his hair hidden under a dark turban the tail of which hung in a long strip down his back. He was wiry but broad boned, tall but almost slender and athletic. His skin was as honey-gold brown as Atemu's but that was where the similarity ended. His eyes were a much deeper, much fuller, much older, swatch of vermillion-crimson like the Lance of Lazarus was a blood stone to Atemu's garish stop-light red eyes. A finely etched, glyphic, tattoo covered his right cheek in inky, total, black and the curves of it reminded Atemu of the Hive somehow.

He was wearing armour. Not cotton armour like Atemu often did but steely black and silver plates of it. His red cape was torn, burnt, in patches and that same armour cracked, rusted, missing or lopsided in places as if he had just fallen out of tumble with a dragon. The scabbard on his hip too sat empty and his gloves appeared to have been ripped off of his bruised, bloody, fingers.

He was a sore thumb out of place but in this tumbling, extravagant, realm no one paid him any heed at all.

No one except Atreyu.

The Faen had reached him now and, ever so gently, raised a quaking set of fingertips to trace the curve of that distinctive tattoo. The man jumped, as if waking from a daze, and seemed to notice Atreyu for the first time surprised anyone was paying him any attention at all. The pleading desperation, the confusion, in his eyes was heart wrenching as he found the Faen's face just below his. Atreyu traced every curved of that tattoo with an ancient knowledge of it which churned Atemu's voyeuristic stomach.

Atreyu mumbled something up to the young man who was quite clearly transfixed by the Faen above all else now. Atemu couldn't hear it but he knew those syllables, the shape of that word on Atreyu's lips, well enough by now.

"Jenzar…?" The Faen seemed to question appealingly.

Either the young man was too dumbstruck to answer or didn't know how because he made no response gaping stupidly at the fairy who was just as entranced by his presence.

So that was what devastatingly handsome Jenzar Fraveous looked like damaged? Had something stolen his face? Didn't he remember? Either way Atreyu was far too spooked to not be sure and Atemu trusted he knew those features inside and out after four billion years of memorising them. Horrid, jealous, anxiety filled his stomach icily but Atemu knew he had no permission to intrude even now.

The man, the haphazardly wounded knight, appeared uncertain of what to do but didn't hesitate to throw his arms round the Faen and lift Atreyu of his feet. He buried his face in Atreyu's neck desperately. Atreyu flushed vermillion and scrambled to throw his arms round his shoulders as the young man clung to him sweeping him off the pavement. Atreyu held him in his arms, let himself be held clumsily, and continued to pet that startlingly handsome face till both of them seemed to shake.

Atemu allowed himself to slink a little closer but held back from truly entering this fray.

Atreyu paid no heed or simply didn't notice at all. The man relented his grip. Embarrassed and trying to stutter still dreadfully unsure of everything as he ever so reverently lowered Atreyu back to his feet. He seemed to think the Faen was a glass charm he might break but hushing him Atreyu held his cheeks in both his soft hands and brought their noses together to soothe him.

So this was the ruin that was left of Jenzar Fraveous? Was it over? All of Yami's secret dreaming and hoping down the drain for eternity? Had the Seers wounded him so badly that after re-assembling the pieces of himself the Champion had still been too injured to find his way home to the Hive? Had he bled out almost all of his memories? It seemed so. Atreyu must've been thinking it because the Faen's fingers were quaking as they fluttered over and over across that tattoo for the tenth time.

Atreyu lowered his hands, took the man's hand and nodding curtly to Atemu led the distraught creature out of sight through a back garden gate to some forgotten alcove the party hadn't yet invaded.

Atemu felt himself wither.

His heart throbbed as if it was really beating in his astral chest. Yami wanted him to cry but Atemu was too soothed by his nature to sob openly. He felt it though as an acute stabbing pain within the regions of his heart. Atreyu was gone, Atreyu would not be his after tonight, no…Oh please no…

He felt so despicably selfish, raw with loathing for the universe itself, as he quaked trapped in place.

He waited.

Atreyu would not leave without giving him orders, plucking him up too, but a moment turned to two and still nothing. Atemu would give them their time respectfully.

The dance changed tunes.

Something stirred the sea serpents under his feet in the water under the city. He could feel them swimming a little faster to find something, heal something, something…

Something was wrong.

Atemu ran as much as the thick crowd would allow. Weaving through them till he hit the back garden fence and throwing his shoulder into it wrenched the door open.

"Atrey-"

Atemu was paralysed in horror, voice choked, as he fell into his feet at the sight.

The man's face had cracked in some squabble and the handsome façade was now splintered like a porcelain mask ready to shatter. He was growling low and thick in a richly stolen baritone as he tried to keep Atreyu forced into the plush, grassy, ground.

"Ahh!"

Atreyu hissed, broken and high as the thing dug its fingers through his delicate costume and into his chest. Atemu could see blood. The thing was steadied on one arm, sitting on Atreyu's squirming legs, its other hand trying to rip into the Faen's chest as Atreyu's hand pushed at its wrist and its shoulder.

It all happened in seconds.

"A-ah!" Atreyu was choking round the pain to struggle to speak when suddenly he found his voice: "RADIANT EXECUTION!"

The thing cracked, grunted in a tone that never wavered from masculine, and in an all-consuming explosion of light evaporated like bug under a magnifying glass. Atreyu, who had half risen in the effort, slumped back onto the grass and senseless Atemu threw himself across the plush carpet of emerald to tug and wrap the Faen up in his arms.

"Trey!" He railed. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"B-bull Seer." He spluttered, coughing, voice finding strength. "A strong, clever, one and it caught me off guard like a common fool."

"Are you…?" Atemu's hand fumbled between them over Atreyu's bleeding chest as the blood began to soak down through the layers of his tunic.

"I'll be fine Atemu," the Faen dismissed casually. "It hurts but I will be back to normal in a few hours. See? The bleeding's already slowing."

Still it was wet, tangy, and metallic between them.

"What was it trying to do to you?" He hissed, still panic stricken as he tried to clutch the Faen without doing more damage.

"I don't know." Atreyu mused a little vaguely. "No one has tried that before."

"You don't look well Trey," he whined, "I should take you back to the Hive."

"We have to finish the guard." The Faen insisted struggling to move out of Atemu's arms and stand back on his own two feet.

The Reaper wouldn't allow it. He pressed Atreyu into his chest, clutched him, hand fumbling up and down his back, cradling his skull as Atemu's thumb made tiny rotations on the back of Atreyu's neck. What seemed like blood but wasn't in reality throbbed between them onto Atemu's bare skin. This was the most damaged he had ever seen the Faen. Not just weakened but wounded. It was surreal, frightening, like a nightmare encroaching on a ballad.

"No," Atemu shook his head stubbornly, "you need to recover."

"I am not making the Gate Keeper call in reinforcements because I was an idiot." Atreyu retorted equally determined but clearly tired. "There's no need. This is minor damage Atemu. I can still fight."

"Your wings are crushed, you look like you've been in a brawl," he argued.

"What do I care? I have." The Faen snorted. "Never mind the damn costume. It's irrelevant."

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"This is a world of sore thumbs."

"What happened?"

Atemu lurched, squeezing Atreyu much too tight to his body, as the hiss wafted up from the inbuilt fountain trickling down the far wall of the garden. The Faen's hands pushed at his pectoral as if he were a cat tied up too tight.

"Relax," Atreyu whispered, "it's just the sea serpents. All's well! Threat neutralised!"

"Who has dared to harm a Sacred Star in our city?"

"A Seer!" The Faen croaked.

"Are you injured?"

"Only a scratch!" He assured flippantly, bleeding in Atemu's arms, as stubborn as he ever was.

"Come to the river," the low, lulling, hisses urged. "We will repay you for your service."

"You best go accept their gift." Atreyu ordered.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight!" He hissed lowly.

"Please Atemu," he groaned weakly. "I don't need you to make me feel any more ridiculous and helpless than I already do. A handsome man puts his arms round me and my senses promptly fall out my ears."

Atemu had a dreadful thought, an idea, of what might've happened. Had their masquerading assassin attempted to steal a kiss? Had Atreyu almost folded thinking it was his wounded Jenzar?

Atemu had never hated Seers more than when Atreyu pushed his ruffled hair back with blood stained fingers and, refusing to meet Atemu's eyes in shame, checked his own wound with careful fingers utterly disrespectful of his momentarily grand disguise. This was embarrassing for Atreyu Damestaire. Worse was Atemu's own relief that the Seer had not been the real Jenzar Fraveous.

Funnily enough, he cursed, he and Jenzar weren't so far unalike in appearance when he was Atemu. Sure when he was awake, when he was Yami, he paler from the climate, the breeding, and his eyes were duller indigo but his true astral form, the reflection of his soul, wasn't so far off.

"Follow me," Atreyu ordered blandly, squirming out of Atemu's momentarily slack arms to make himself steady on his feet with his arms out by his sides blood still dripping from the hem of his tunic. "If you won't let me out of sight we best go see them together and finish this."

"Let me help you," Atemu pleaded as he allowed himself to follow, slipping his arm almost round Atreyu's waist but was too hesitant to really touch the Faen.

"Let me walk on my own two feet at least Atemu," the Faen sighed and suddenly Atemu was overcome by a surge of frustration unaccustomed.

"No!" He retorted stoutly to Atreyu's and his own surprise. "It is my duty to protect you. I won't allow you to be so stubborn always. I won't be separate from you while we hunt ever again. If you had let me face this with you then you would have been safe. I should have argued."

"Atemu," the Faen baulked bemusedly, "the Gate Keeper placed us together so I could protect you! It was a punishment!"

"Whatever he meant he said that I was to protect you. So I intend to do just that and I shall not be reasonable about it anymore." Atemu retorted with sharp finality and in the most curt manner he could manage, still burning with frustrated determination, hooked his arm under Atreyu's knees and heaved the stunned Faen into his arms like a bride bouncing him once to better assert his balance.

"You cannot seriously-"

"This is what the Gate Keeper meant, I'm sure, about Faen's being so contrastingly vulnerable. You're so stubborn you hardly ever know when to pull back and stop for you own sake. You're so busy keeping myself or someone else safe you forget about your own fate. The Gate Keeper himself told you not to be so self-sacrificial." Atemu would listen to no argument on the matter and Atreyu appeared not to know what to do with his authority dismissed. "I may not be a Champion but I am not helpless. I can protect you."

"Atemu…" The Faen murmured, rendered speechless, as he was forced to rest one stained hand on the firm tendons of the Reaper's neck and for perhaps the first time Atemu could truly savour how light and tiny the being was in his grasp.

"Well shall go accept their gift," he decided, letting himself ease gently, "but if you still look so unwell afterwards I am taking you home if I have to throw you over my shoulder."

"Alright…" The stunned wisp conceded.

Not one of the revellers paid them any heed when Atemu carried Atreyu back onto the street. As a matter of fact a few of them seemed quite amused, winked, and blew kisses through drunken giggles. They must've looked as if they had a story. Atreyu was secluded within himself however, arms lax round Atemu's neck in surrender while he rested his cheek into the Reaper's gold plated clavicle. He was so small for an entity who stood so tall and who could so fill a room.

Atemu only relented to let Atreyu out of his arms when they found a secluded canal in the back streets of the city and sunk to their waists into the water. When it rose up round him Atemu was surprised by the languid warmth of it and sighing Atreyu dunked himself entirely, briskly, coming back through the surface with his bloody costume clinging and dyeing the water. Atemu could feel reeds against his flank as Atreyu plucked the flowers from his crown and set them back on the pavement behind them. In the dull din Atreyu reminded him of a performer at their vanity stripping down, exhausting, from a night of playing some great charade. What was Atreyu like when he let his hair down? What was Yugi like?

The water lapped, rising in an abrupt tide, as the serpents forced their way into the tight space slipping dangerously close till Atemu could feel noses nudge past him. Atreyu laughed, soft and tired. The water charmed him when it was this primordial.

"You are wounded." One hissed and in the darkness of the night and the lantern shadows Atemu could only make out the briefest elements of their silhouettes in the water. The serpent slunk in very close its snout butting Atreyu's navel and gently the Faen ran his fingers over the grooves of its head just under the surface.

"My core will see to it that I'm back to perfect health shortly." He confided politely. "Never fear."

"It must have been a deviously powerful monster," it supposed. "You rid the city of it. We thank you both."

"My body guard deserves all the acclaim." Atreyu diverted. "Gift him if you would praise anyone."

"Then we shall."

Atemu had balls. Yami was actually pretty proud of that. The bravery necessary to tell Atreyu Damestaire, who could destroy him on a whim, what to do had mercifully carried over enough into waking Yami to coax himself to check on Yugi after last night's hunt. Faen core or no Faen core Atemu was taking his latest vow to heart and it had seeped all the way through Yami. They agreed on almost everything these days since Yami had acknowledged that little fact that, oh yeah, Atemu was real.

It was a decent hour this time and the sun was warm on his back through the tee. Not like the last time he'd come pounding on Yugi's door in the middle of the night, howling on the porch like some overgrown alley cat demanding to be let in. He rapped the door with the back of his knuckles again and when there was no answer ferreted in his pockets. He'd secured himself a set of keys at some recent point in their alliance but he wasn't above breaking in anymore. The casual rules of human practicality sort of ceased to apply after a while.

He knew Yugi might be out. If he was Yami would apologise later but he also knew the Faen might be hurt somehow after last night and that concern outweighed any other politeness in the forefront of his mind. His keys changed through all five of the locks and pushing the door apart only a fraction he let himself in without disturbing the salt line in the carpet.

"Yugi?" He called.

In hindsight he could've stretched his senses to feel if the Faen was inside the house puppet mastering all the strings of magic throughout it but the thought didn't consciously occur to him till he was up the stairs.

"Yugi?" He attempted gently once more rapping the bedroom door. "You in there?"

"Hmm," was the muffled little moan he received for his trouble and, chuckling, Yami let himself in.

Yugi was sprawled half on his stomach, half on his side, under the tapestry print quilt soaking up the residual heat of the blankets he'd piled up round him and the late morning sun. Yami sat upon the edge of the mattress, feeling it give to his weight, and tried not to raise his voice more than necessary.

"You gotten out of bed all morning?" He had his suspicions.

"Showered," Yugi contradicted groggily, shuffling a little more onto his side to force his eyelids apart for Yami. "Then fell back asleep again."

"Are you okay?" The author fussed, the inside of his palm skirting under Yugi's fringe to brush his forehead before the hand rotated to allow the back of his palm the same privilege. "You feel hot."

"That thing muddled up my core," he explained exhausted. "It's sending out masses of energy like always but all the channels are mixed up. It's like I've got my wires tangled. I just need a little while to sort it out and I'll be fine. Just want to sleep all day."

"You want me to stay?" Yami asked hopefully as the fingers of his lingering palm ran through softly damp tendrils of hair round Yugi's face.

"You mind?" He murmured. "I don't feel up to fighting anything today."

"Nah its cool," he promised. "You want anything?"

"Cuddle?" Yugi sighed hopefully. "I feel gross."

"Sure." He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers and laying out his accessories on the bedside table as Yugi shuffled back a little to make room for the larger body.

"You going to stay all Commander on me from now on?" Yugi joked.

"You bet," Yami swore almost playfully threatening as he tugged back the quilt to make himself comfortable, "I like looking out for you."

"And you thought you'd never be able to go all Prince Charming on my ass."

Yami had to smile. It was a turbulent memory from when they were pretending to date or rather when Yugi was pretending to date and Yami had felt incapable which to a point he supposed he always would.

"Someone has to apparently," he teased back, twisting to his side and unfurling his arms so Yugi could shuffled against him and bury into the warmth of natural body heat.

Yugi lay into him in the most natural way in the world, nuzzling down into his neck, his arm curling round Yami's side to grasp the shirt between the shoulder blades he idly took to tracing every few inhalations. Yami exhaled, let tension roll out of him, and distantly wished the sky would darken with rain. That pitter-patter sound rumbling the glass panes of the window would've been the perfect accompaniment to the shadows of the bedroom and the lulling warmth of being tangled under the sheets jeans to cotton PJs.

Yugi's skin was still damp from the shower and it had left a softly sodden, gooey, texture to the sheets all round them that was nearly cloying. Yami held him softly, as the Faen became numb and dazed in his arms, and then flexed to hold him ever so much more securely. Yugi's burrowed his face deeper against his clavicle, his neck, as if he wanted to hide inside Yami's skin and soothed by the ease of it Yami couldn't resist stroking strands of hair or kissing his temple.

There was a slow rhythm beating between them and contentment gave way to tension inside Yami's gut. He felt himself on a very tender precipice pushing subtly to see where the defences to this castle would snap up. They stretched, re-aligning, sagging and fidgeting for comfort's sake. Yami's back ached mildly, driving him conveniently to lean more into his stomach for balance, one jean clad leg resting on Yugi's which parted languidly to let them tangle closer. Yami closed his eyes tighter suddenly viciously, acutely, aware of the details of sensation. Yugi's mouth almost, just almost, open against his neck. Yugi's damp fringe was tickling under his chin. Yugi's fingers between his shoulder blades while Yami's leg lay between shifting, hot, thighs barely brushing against his through thin fabric. Temptation weaselled a little deeper, little tighter, in his belly and sent heat lower.

Yami remembered this feeling. He remembered being sixteen on the couch with his first girlfriend. He remembered embraces that lingered through movies that served as a farcical cover for more testing activities. He remembered holding her, brushing and petting till the pair of them pushed a little too sexually this way or slid their hand a little too far under the hem of that piece of clothing. He remembered the heat, the stupidity, the guilt, and the burning lust which muffled it all in the moment till the sting sunk in later. He remembered this same half-conscious interplay of actions. It was a seesaw on the part of both participants to see who would break, who would push for more, after a long procession of tiny torturous hints leading each player on. He had thought he was too old to fall under this curse so far out of high school.

Was Yugi aware of it? In these moments when he should've known better Yami could never read his opponent well enough to determine. Lust, heat, passion clouded all of that. These were the kinds of games Yami lost but…

He traversed the precipice longer, feeling the edge of the sword, drawing his knee back in then out again to very casually brush his thigh between Yugi's and the Faen snuggled closer. He kissed his forehead once, twice, thrice… forgot how to breathe…

He wanted Yugi. Since the second he'd met him he'd wanted to kiss and lick and rock and hold greedily. He was a man not a martyr. This was what the Natural World did to his restraint and the restraint of every other soul surely. Surely he wasn't the only Reaper who became an animal when he was awake? Fuck. He had convinced himself somewhere that it would be easier not to have Yugi forever if he could just have him for a little while. If he could just have this lifetime, or this year or this day then maybe…

No human being stopped when they stoked the fire this long from languid tinder to burning, consuming, totality whatever common sense said. Yami fell a little, stroking Yugi's hair from his face, kisses wandering with a soft kind of appealing desperation down his cheeks and over his nose. Yami just wanted him. Nothing more complicated than that. Yami's heart had thrown out the rule book with this starved hunger that numbed logic. He just wanted Yugi equally half with passion and half for adoration. Yugi made him feel special. He felt alive now, felt like something new and true and timelessly wild. That inner animal couldn't comprehend why then they couldn't have this something that made them this happy, this hungry, and this bloodthirsty.

If Jenzar had been here he would have killed him. Yami was a traitor in spirit if not in deed, not yet, and he probably couldn't make himself apologise.

He held them together. Yugi pushed into him ever so slightly and Yami snapped. Cupping his cheek he brought their lips together. It burnt. Yami's whole heart contorted with blooming joy and withering horror but his body was scolded by an unrivalled desire. He'd never wanted anyone else like this. Yugi's fingers curled in his shirt and Yami wrapped him up tighter.

Yami's thought was unpunctuated by reason. It wafted through the back of his senses as a current of regretful pain but in that moment he was too hazed with the satisfaction of temporary lust to care. Yami was sure he was damaging Yugi with that bitter grip, bruising his lips with a second harsh kiss that refused to let them unbuckle, hand wandering brave and senseless under Yugi's shirt with the boldness of a suicidal warrior. He rubbed the cove where ribcage and hip became waist, the soft plush of the navel, before wrapping back to drag his hand up between Yugi's shoulder blades for the start of another intense kiss.

Yugi's hand fell from his back, grasped his shoulder and forearm and applied insistent but non-brutal pressure. Yami barely noticed. One arm secured round his shoulders, tongue running along the stubbornly sewn seam of Yugi's lips, the other fondling the bare alcove of the small of Yugi's arched back. His knee, thigh, flexed between the Faen's thighs and brazen in his kiss Yami let his hand fall a little lower under the giving elastic of Yugi's waistband to glide over the pert arse. Yugi's hands became more insistent, reluctantly forceful, between them and as he gasped Yami's tongue touched his. Yugi's mouth was tight and wet and trying to coax his tongue to play Yami felt the Faen shudder, swoon, with rebounding heat.

Yugi pushed at him suddenly, hands rough, and panicked like an animal Yami fell back, grip wavering, as Yugi scrambled haphazardly over him and stumbled into the en suite. Yami dragged himself to his shoulders, bewildered, as he watched the Faen dart out of sight with his cotton pants lower than ever round his hips.

Half a second later Yami heard the Faen wretch over the toilet bowl, the unpleasant plunking of vomit slapping water following, and torn between personal disgust he tossed back the sheets to force himself out of the contaminated bed.

Fuck!

1 'Chameleon Circuit' is a Dr Who inspired band who do a fantastic song called 'Exterminate Regenerate' which I am addicted to.

2 "Matter cannot be created or destroyed only reshaped" is a principle most of you will recognise from Chemistry. Yugi works by the same principle. You cannot destroy a soul but you can rip it to pieces, reshape it and reform it like the Seers pull themselves back together in different shapes after Atreyu destroys them.

3 Yep, Yugi finally explained the pendant/Lance of Lazarus hopefully to everyone's satisfaction.

4 Remember when Yugi told Yami that in his past three reincarnations he was a nun, a serial killer and then an institutionalized suicidal? Well that last, most recent, past life is Carolyn Smith (who may or may not pipe up in the future).

5 Atemu's Pharaoh Costume is the same one we see in Seto's first Ishizu induced flashback and also the same one we seem when Noah tries to break into Yami's mind in the virtual world.

6 No reference for Yugi/Atreyu's costume sadly but blame Teenie for that one scene involving Yugi's kimono in Frost King.

7 In "The Last Unicorn" concerning Lady Amalthea (mild inspiration for Atreyu) Molly says: 'She will remember you when men are fairy tales and books are written by rabbits'. Which I always adored especially since it's a surprisingly dark, classic, movie.