Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

"So… Marie… what exactly are you planning to use that bird for?"

"Oh, you'll see, Ishtar. It's a surprise."

Bakura had a feeling that any surprise involving a dead bird wasn't going to be pleasant for its recipients. Still, he didn't have time to consider the options, as they had arrived at their destination. Marie unlocked the door to the small, log building and held open the door for Bakura and Marik. As the buzzing fluorescent light above them flickered to life, their eyes met three long, wooden tables, each with a long bench on either side. Paper plates were lined up along the edges of the tables, and the center was covered in an assortment of yarn, string, colored paper, felt, scissors, glue, crayons, markers, paint, glitter, sequins, stickers… well, in short, a large variety of art supplies.

"Alright, so, spoiler alert, one of our 'team-building' activities later this week is making a mask for your partner, based upon what design you think best fits your partner's personality. We have enough paper plates for you guys to make two. If you don't feel like making one, I couldn't care less what you do. Just don't leave the cabin until Ann comes to pick you up for dinner. Now, if you'll excuse me, I happen to have a job in the cafeteria."

An awkward silence followed after the door clicked shut behind Marie. Marik shrugged and sat at a table. "Well… I suppose I could make a mask for you now, Bakura. Maybe I'll make a mask for Ishizu when everyone else is working on theirs."

Bakura lay on the bench behind Marik, and then crossed his arms behind his head. "Just wake me when it's time to eat."

They existed in silence for a while, Marik focusing on the mask, Bakura staring at the ceiling. Bakura soon felt his head ache after looking towards the bright light for too long. He turned his head and realized that he had a perfect view of Marik's 'perfectly toned ass,' albeit through his tight, black jeans. Feeling his face burn, he tried to push out any naughty thoughts before his arousal became apparent. Still, he couldn't bring himself to turn away from it. "I can't believe that it's right there. So close…" Staring at it, he thought about how much he would just love to reach out and touch that ass, run his fingers over the soft flesh beneath that denim, take-

"Hey, Bakura, I finished your mask! Hey, what's wrong? You look sick."

Bakura lifted his head to look at Marik, his expression dazed. "Huh?" was his intelligent response.

"I said, I'm done with your mask." He held it up to his face. The paper plate had two triangular pieces of white construction paper taped at the top, each with a pink triangle colored inside. Several cotton balls were glued to the top as well, covering almost half of the plate. Below the cotton balls, two small slits had been cut out, presumably for the eyes. Above each eye was a dark, black arch. A huge frown was drawn towards the bottom, with two yellowing teeth sticking out. The whole thing had been doused in silver glitter.

Bakura blinked. "Care to explain the significance of your piece?"

Marik huffed. "Well, isn't it obvious Fluffy?" He pointed to each item that he described. "The triangles are your kitty ears, of course. This is your white, fluffy hair. I know that British people have bad teeth, but, now that I think about it, your teeth are pretty nice, so I guess I could use some whiteout later. Oh, and you wouldn't be Bakura if you didn't looked pissed off. As for the glitter, well, it's just that you're so pale, and so friggin' emo all the time, I thought that it would make sense if you sparkled."

"…Did…Did you just compare me to a vampire from Twilight?"

Marik didn't seem to hear the question. "So, what do you think?"

Bakura stayed silent for a moment, staring at Marik. Then, his lips curled into a smile. "I think that I would like to make a mask for you now."

"Oh, that sounds great! Don't worry, I won't peek while you make it." Marik turned around, busying himself by punching holes into his mask and looping a piece of white yarn through them. After several minutes, Bakura tapped his shoulder. "OK, I'm done."

Marik turned around, swinging his legs across the bench so he could face Bakura. Bakura held up the mask. A circular piece of light brown felt was glued over the entirety of the plate. Strands of yellow yarn were taped to the top. At the bottom, drawn with markers, was a mouth, hanging open with a pink tongue sticking out. Tiny, sketchy musical notes were drawn in permanent marker around the mouth. The most prominent feature of the mask, however, was the eyes. Eyes large enough to cover the top half of the plate were covered in purple sequins. Above the eyes were two sets of long, thick eyelashes.

Marik scrunched his nose. "Why are there black squiggles near my mouth?"

Bakura smirked. "Oh, they're musical notes. You know, to symbolize your passion for singing off-key to Lady Gaga."

"Hey, I have a beautiful singing voice! And why are my eyelashes so freakishly long?"

"They represent your gay tendency to wear makeup."

Now Marik was irritated. "Wearing makeup is not gay! I know lots of men who wear makeup!"

Bakura's smug smile grew. He was enjoying annoying Marik immensely. "Oh, really? Name three."

"Yami, Melvin, and you."

"Marik, all three of us are gay."

Marik spluttered, "Well, that doesn't make me gay, Kitty!"

Bakura's grin dropped at the mention of his much hated nickname. "Don't call me Kitty!"

"Why not?! You call me gay!"

"Because you are gay!"

"You shut the *EFF* up, Kitty!"

"I told you to stop calling me Kitty!"

Marik's frown twisted into a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry Kitty. Does that bother you, Kitty?"

Bakura closed his eyes and bowed his head, his hands curling into fists. "Stop it."

Marik raised his hands to his head, holding them horizontally to mimic the wing shaped tufts on Bakura's head. "Meow, my name is Florence, meow, I have a girly name, meow, can someone fetch me a saucer of milk, meow?"

Bakura felt heat rise to his neck. His fists trembled. "I said BUGGER OFF!" He punctuated his statement by pounding his fist on the table.

Unfortunately for Marik, Bakura happened to smash a bottle of glue, squirting the contents onto the chest of Marik's lavender shirt. Marik's eyes widened in shock. "That was one of my favorite tops!" Then, Marik growled and grabbed a tube of blue paint from the table behind him, squeezing it in his hands to shoot the paint into Bakura's hair.

Suddenly, all was quiet. Marik froze, the probable consequences of his actions sinking in. He watched Bakura, who hadn't moved. Slowly, Bakura raised his head, smiling wider than Marik had ever seen. "…Um…Bakura?"

Before Marik could blink, Bakura was on top of him. Bakura pushed Marik against a table, keeping him in place with one hand on his chest. Laughing manically, he snatched a bag of beads from behind Marik and began pouring them over Marik's chest, where the glue was. "Kura, quit that!" Marik stretched his arm out behind him and began feeling around blindly. He grabbed a jar of rhinestones and poured them over Bakura's head, where they stuck in the paint.

It wasn't long before Marik began laughing along with Bakura as they covered each other with art supplies, wrestling playfully. Their fun was interrupted when the door to the art shack clicked open.

"What is the meaning of this!?"

Bakura and Marik froze in their current stances. Bakura lay on the floor while Marik straddled him, holding a cup of confetti dangerously close to Bakura's face.

Ann and Marie stood in the doorway, Ann with a look of astonishment and horror, and Marie with an expression of surprised amusement. The rest of the class stood behind the two counselors, trying to look around them to see what had happened. Ann huffed, "We'll see you two in the cafeteria after you both clean up this mess and take showers." She turned on her heel and began leading the class to dinner, not stopping them when they each took a peek inside and giggled at Marik and Bakura.

Marik sighed. "Well, at least we didn't get into too much trouble."

Bakura couldn't seem to stop smiling. He tilted his head back, enjoying the feeling of Marik straddling him. "That was fun."

Marik whipped his head down to face him. "Fun!? Bakura, look at this mess!"

Bakura stared up into Marik's sparkling amethyst eyes. "Oh, I'm looking at it. I'm looking at a real hot mess."

Marik blushed as he remembered the position they were in. He scrambled to get himself off Bakura and onto his feet. Bakura chuckled as he pushed himself up. "Shall we make our way to the showers?"

"But, what about the mess?"

"We're evil, not janitors."

"What if we were evil janitors?"

"Just come with me, Marik."

About half an hour later, the pair joined the rest of their class in the cafeteria. They carried their trays to the table at which the members of Cabin 1 were required to sit. Ryou looked up from his bowl of soup when he saw his former dark half and his former dark half's crush approaching. He smiled politely. "Oh, hey guys! I see that you recovered from your little mishap."

Bakura grunted and sat down next to Ryou. "Yeah, but I couldn't get all of the paint out. My hair hasn't been this blue since Season 0."

"I might still have a few beads stuck to my chest," Marik chimed in, sliding into the seat next to Melvin and across from Bakura.

"Hey, maybe you guys can figure out what we're eating," Melvin commented, sticking his fork into a brown lump that resembled some kind of meat.

Ryou giggled. "Melvin, Marie already told us what this is supposed to be. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, bread, and… what kind of soup did she say this was?"

Melvin shrugged. "Search me. It tastes like shoe polish."

"Yes, well, at least the mashed potatoes don't taste too bad."

Melvin looked up from his tray, a mischievous smile on his face. "Hey, Ryou, do you know how they made the mashed potatoes?"

"I assume that they mashed some potatoes."

"No, cafeterias never make real mashed potatoes. That would take too long. They buy packs of this white, potato flavored dirt. Then, they pour the dirt into boiling water until it forms potato flavored mud."

Ryou's stared down at his potatoes, his eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"What, don't you trust me?"

Ryou blinked, then pushed his tray away. "I'm suddenly not hungry for mashed potatoes."

Melvin grinned wider. "What's wrong, Ryou? I like my mashed potatoes." He shoveled a forkful into his mouth and began talking with his mouth still full. "Mmm, that's some good mud."

"Oh, Melvin, stop that! You're going to make me sick!" Melvin continued to chew with his mouth open, enjoying his immature torture of Ryou.

Bakura snickered and leaned across the table to whisper to Marik. "I think your yami has a crush on my hikari."

Marik smiled. "It would seem so. Hey, that reminds me, I forgot to ask you more about that crush of yours. Go on, what is he like? Is he as sexy as I am, or, should I say, almost but definitely less sexy than I am?"

Bakura's face turned red. He didn't see a way to distract Marik at the present, so he decided to go along with his questioning and try to be vague. "Ah, well... he's musically talented." Bakura almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

"Oh, that's always attractive!"

"And….. he enjoys wearing skimpy clothing."

"Well, if you have the body to pull it off…"

"He also has the most beautiful eyes…" Bakura continued, staring dreamily at Marik, beginning to forget what he was doing.

"What color are they?"

"Purple." Bakura flinched as soon as the words lefts his mouth. "Oh Ra. I've said too much!"

Marik smirked and leaned a little closer to Bakura, their noses nearly touching. Bakura's breath hitched as he leaned back slightly.

"Bakura…" Marik drawled, still smiling teasingly, "Do you have a crush on-"

Marik was interrupted by a yelp across the table. In Ryou's haste to avoid getting slobbered on by Melvin, he had knocked over his bowl of soup. "Oh, bollocks! Not my soup!"

"Oh, let me help you clean up, yadonushi." Bakura leapt to his feet and hurriedly ushered Ryou to the nearest bathroom, relieved to be saved before he fully blew his cover.

Melvin blinked. "Well, Bakura's being weirdly nice. What's wrong with him?"

Marik shrugged. "I don't know. We were just joking around. He tried to convince me that he had a crush on Yami."