Warning: This is a Shounen-Ai/Yaoi (meaning boy love) story. If you are offended by this, please leave now. I will accept no flames regarding this. Flame my spelling. Flame my grammar. You can even flame my logic (or lack thereof). But if you don't like Shounen-Ai/Yaoi and continue to read, you are the only one that should get roasted!

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor do I make any profit from this story. I only borrow the characters because I love them and like to play with them and because they give my very mundane life meaning. How sad is that?

Previously…

The blonds' stunned expression almost made him want to chuckle. "I said, I'll think about it. No promises, Wheeler."

"Oh…Okay! Thanks, Kaiba!" The other boy's face was lit up as bright as a neon sign in Las Vegas (the under-age billionaire had never been there, but he had seen pictures) and Seto could only groan inwardly.

I'm so screwed.

Chapter Three: "A Wake-up Call from the Past"

It had taken him well into the evening to catch up on the work that he had set aside in order to be able to have his 'talk' with the 'mutt'. Crap! Mustn't say 'mutt'; remember that! I shouldn't even think it. Now that he had arrived back at the mansion, the only thing that the brunet wanted to do was to change clothes (he HATED business suits, no matter how good they might look on him) get a bite to eat and relax a little before bed. Contrary to popular opinion, he was human and needed time to 'wind down' from a long, hard day just like everybody else; of course, the very first thing that he would be doing would be meeting-and-greeting one very happy (and hyper) little brother. He couldn't help the tiny smile that stole across his face at the thought. Ah, well! Some things are worth a smile.

They were halfway through a (very) late dinner before Mokuba, whose curiosity had finally gotten the better of him, brought up the subject of the meeting with Joey. The discussion was going fine until the CEO slipped up and used the new moniker he had given the blond.

"Chihuahua…?" The raven-haired boy blinked at him in disbelief. "You call Joey…Chihuahua…?"

"I could go back to calling him 'mutt'." Seto deadpanned back, "It would be easier."

"Seto…" Mokuba scolded, and then shook his head. "It's just…it doesn't fit. He's not…" he paused, and then finished with a puzzled frown "…Mexican?"

"There are American breeds." At his brother's questioning look, he elaborated. "I did research."

"Okay…" Only Seto would be anal-retentive enough to do research for a nickname. "Don't you think that he looks more like a…" The younger Kaiba scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment, and then snapped his fingers as the figurative 'light bulb' went off. "I know! He's a Golden Retriever!"

The brunet frowned. "I'm supposed to call him that?"

"It's perfect!"

"It's too long. Try again."

"Seto…!"

"NO." When Mokuba's face morphed into a pout, he warned frostily, "I'll go back to calling him 'mutt'."

"All right…! All right…! Then what about…"

Puppy, huh? That could work, I suppose. The yawning teen stretched languidly as he tried to work out the last of the kinks in his muscles that the extra-long (and extra hot) shower had managed to miss. Pulling off his bathrobe and changing into his pajamas, he noticed a small tray holding his nightly cup of chamomile tea sitting on the bedside table, and sighed wearily. As tired as he was, he didn't think that he would need it, but he hated wasting anything; so, he dutifully drained the cup of the already cooled mixture and went to bed.

Turning out the light and settling under the thick covers, he exhaled in contentment. A scant few seconds later, and the exhausted boy-billionaire was asleep.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a certain blond also slept, comfortably and without disturbance for the first time in a month…

…And with a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~

The morning came too damned early for oldest Kaiba's liking (he really needed more sleep) and so he was in a rather testy mood when he managed to drag himself down for breakfast, messy-haired, half-dressed and grumbling that he needed 'coffee' and 'lots of it'. Mokuba couldn't help but smirk. No one except him (and a few select staff members) ever had the privilege of seeing his brother this way. It made him seem…normal, and more like the teen he really was. It was a daily glimpse of the brother that he remembered from long ago, and he treasured it.

That didn't mean he wouldn't tease him about it.

Especially when Seto came down the stairs wearing two different colored house-shoes…

An hour-and-a-half later they were sitting in the limousine, the teen entrepreneur (now perfectly polished and on a caffeine-high) on his way to Kaiba Corp. and Mokuba off to spend the day with a friend.

As the limo pulled smoothly into the reserved parking space right outside the elevator in the Kaiba Corp. building's underground parking garage, the CEO slipped into parental mode.

"Be home by six. I'll be working late, most likely. I want you to eat dinner and do whatever homework assignment you need to do before you play any video games."

"But Seto, it's vacation! I still have plenty of time…" His brother's glare stopped him cold and he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, big brother."

The brunet's lips twitched upwards. "I want you in bed no later than ten. If you'll do that, when I get in I'll wake you and we can have a late night snack and play a few games. Is it a deal?"

Mokuba, face glowing and slate-colored eyes dancing with anticipation, couldn't get his answer out fast enough. "It's a deal!"

~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~

By 10am the teen CEO was banging his head on his desk (figuratively speaking) in out-and-out frustration. His secretary was still on vacation, and the previous temp had not shown up – the new one that the agency had sent had actually told him, to his face, point blank, that SHE DID NOT FILE. DID NOT FILE, mind you! What secretary did not file? Why would anyone even become a secretary if they didn't like filing! That was like…like…someone becoming a doctor who didn't like medicine! A pilot that didn't like flying! A swimmer that hated the water! It was ABSURD! What was worse, she seemed to be absolutely clueless about how to manage appointments – he had wanted to go over his schedule to see if it was even possible to do what the blond had asked; that way, at least, when he turned him down he could do so with a clear conscious and wouldn't feel so bad about it. After all, he had tried; right?

But it wasn't going according to plan. The only thing he had managed to accomplish that morning was to fall further and further behind; stacks of unfiled papers were filling up both his 'IN' and his 'OUT' boxes, he had a gazillion phone calls yet to return, which he couldn't do because if they wanted to schedule an appointment, he was screwed (that was becoming his favorite phrase it seemed)twice as many e-mails to reply to, and a pounding headache.

And to top it all off, he had also been told, very bluntly by his non-filing, non-scheduling so-called secretary, that if he wanted coffee, he could make it himself.

He would have replaced her, except he didn't think that the attempt, at this point, was even worth the effort. If the truth be told, he didn't even want to consider what the next one might be like.

The very thought made him want to shudder.

~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~

Joey's day, on the other hand, had been going in entirely the opposite direction. Allowed to sleep in (his father had had a late night and had passed out in another beer-induced fog leaving the teen to his own devices) take a hot shower (for the first time in ages) and actually find the makings of a decent breakfast in the house, he was now on his way, clean, refreshed and full-stomached, to spend some time with his all-time best friend, Yugi.

It didn't hurt that he also had a hopeful heart riding along with him.

The blond couldn't stop the stupid grin from taking over his face. Kaiba's going to help! It was a mantra that had kept repeating itself over and over again in his mind ever since their meeting had ended. He would get to help Yugi and spend some time with his crush – possibly alone. That realization had kept him flush with excitement and had put a spark in his eye and a bounce in his step. It also had him so distracted that he didn't notice the black sedan slowly start to move just as he stepped off the curb onto the crosswalk…

~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~

It was a lost cause.

Seto groaned as he tried to mop up the paper-cup full of cold vending machine coffee that he had managed to spill on his over-used and sorely abused desktop keyboard – one that he would now likely have to replace. His head was throbbing and his vision blurring and he was thoroughly disgusted with the day and with himself. Giving up, he threw the wad of soaked (and dripping) paper towels into the overflowing trashcan with a scowl. It looks like I'm really going to have to turn the 'Chihuahua'…I mean, the' puppy'… down, after all.

Reaching into his desk drawer for a bottle of aspirin, he decided that the best (and safest) thing he could do at the moment was to take a short (but well deserved) nap.

He would have instructed his secretary to hold all his calls, but since she wasn't answering any, he considered it to be a mute point.

So instead, he took the desk phone off the hook, set the alarm on his cell phone, popped twice as many aspirin as the label instructed (dry, no less) grabbed a blanket he had hidden in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet (he got cold sometimes, what of it?) and made his way to the sofa setting against the far wall.

He should have known, with his day going the way that it was, that trouble would only follow.

The sparkling sand swirled crazily, held in the grip of the miniature tornado, commonly referred to as a 'dust devil', caused by the blistering heat of the midday sun on the infinite Egyptian dunes. Overhead, the blue of the sky was ominously empty except for the myriad of vultures circling, patiently waiting for the desert to claim its latest victim and supply their next meal. Nothing broke up the monotonous expanse of the horizon but one lone object…

… But what an object it was.

Magnificent walls of carved red granite stone rose from the shifting golden plain; set in the middle of the eastern wall (in order to meet the rising sun) a huge double-door of highly polished cedar wood was flanked by twin guardian statues of Horus, the hawk-headed God, the Protector of Egypt and the Pharaoh. Left leg extended in respect to the living God, their sharp onyx eyes seemed to warn each passerby that terrible retribution would be taken for any offence or transgressions believed to be committed on these hallowed grounds.

Within these mighty walls, a vast, multi-storied complex had been built; a mixture of mud brick, nearly four-feet thick, plastered and painted a brilliant white on the outside and in rich, vibrant colors on the inside, it also contained pillars of wood, limestone and sandstone and floors covered in thousands of beautifully glazed ceramic tiles. Murals decorated many of the rooms, some depicting the Gods, others scenes of nature – near each generous doorway and curtained window, more tiles with glyphs offering protection, health and good luck could also be found encased in the plaster walls – always next to the cartouche of the Pharaoh.

In one of these rooms on the ground floor, sat a young man; tall and lean, he wore the clothes of someone of high-station, expensive linens of hand-woven cotton, dyed a deep royal blue. Bands of gold on each arm glowed softly in the light of the day, as well as the multiple rings around each wrist. On the richly carved wooden table sat the headdress of a priest of Egypt, around which lay a jumbled pile of papyrus scrolls similar to the one that was currently being studied with utmost care. In a rare act of frustration, the young man drew a hand roughly through his sun-bronzed locks, an unusual sight in the land where most shaved their heads and wore wigs. Then, turning as if hearing approaching footsteps, he rose to his feet; with his deadly blue eyes glittering like twin gems and focused on an unseen entity, he spoke in a language that should have been unknown and yet, was strangely familiar.

"What is taking you so long? We have much to do and we haven't much time. All will be lost – must we beg for your help? Must he?" With a shake of his head, the troubled priest continued, tears of anger forming in his eyes. "Do you want to lose them…again?" Raising a fist, he glared at his unknown enemy. "I will not allow your pride to bring such heartache for a second time. You will do as asked, or by Ra you will suffer the consequences!"

Lunging forward, he made as if to land a blow on his invisible adversary, when suddenly, the room was filled with a howling wind; stinging, hot sand permeated the air, stealing both breath and sight as it enveloped everything in its wake…

Seto bolted upright, heart racing and eyes wide. "What the Hell…was that?" Throwing back the blanket, he stood up and shakily fought his way back over to his desk, glancing at the elegant wrought-iron clock hanging on the dark-paneled wall as he did so. He'd only been sleeping for half-an-hour; it was just a little before noon. Shaking his head, he growled. "Egypt! Why always Egypt? What a load of nonsense! Wheeler and his 'Pharaonic' dreams – they're the cause of this; that's all it is. There is no way that I'm falling for such rubbish again!" Rant over, he eyed his overloaded desk, and sighed. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with this mess, and since he wasn't getting any work done anyway, he decided that maybe a walk and some lunch might turn things around (yes, he ate lunch…occasionally).

Grabbing his suit jacket and finger-combing his hair into place, he slid his cell phone into its inside breast pocket. Slipping it on, he made his way to his office door with a frown, trying to remember the temp-of-the-day's name, and then deciding that even if he could remember it, that she hadn't done anything to merit him doing so.

"I'm going out for lunch – I'll be back around two." He informed her as he passed by the receptionist's station. All he got in reply was a non-committal shrug of the shoulders that made him see red and grit his teeth.

As the automatic doors in the front lobby slid open and the cool outside air hit his anger-warmed face, the teen CEO thought to himself that he had never been so thankful to be leaving anyplace in his entire life.

What he didn't know at the time was that in the very, very near future, he would be even more grateful…

Author's Note: Any guesses as to who our 'mystery guest' was? LOL! I'm not telling…