"Ah, when the world ends
Collect your things you're coming with me
When the world ends
You tuckle up yourself with me
And watch it as the stars disappear to nothing
The day the world is over
We'll be lying in bed"

~Dave Mathews Band, "When the World Ends"

They weren't friends and they didn't get along. That's what the Spirit and his Host kept telling themselves and each other. If they were close, if they acknowledged a bond existed, if they spoke it and made it real, either Ryou would lose his love for his friends or the Spirit would lose his hatred for his enemies. Neither one could bare that thought so they swallowed their feelings and rarely spoke though they shared their thoughts. Thoughts were safe, secrets and fantasies hiding in their mind, but words were too dangerous.

But when you're used to being alone, as both of them were, and then find yourself interdependent to another consciousness that shared all your favorite passions, it was impossible not to interact. Bakura sat in the chair and laughed and Ryou, though he pretended to be cross, laughed with him from his space in their mind.

Marik handed Bakura a plastic tray with rice, vegetables, and a hard boiled egg molded to look like a bunny. "You . . . weren't this close to your host in Battle City, what changed?"

Bakura stopped laughing and took the tray out of Marik's hand, but didn't eat. He thought about the question. He'd manipulated Ryou into putting the Ring back on when they were on Pegasus' Island, but had kept his word and helped his Host's friends escape the cave. Then they'd saved Tristan and Mokuba, Ryou wanting to help and Bakura wanting an alibi for after he acquired the Eye. Then there had been the Pharaoh's vessel's game with Otogi. Again, ulterior motives forced Bakura to play a supportive role, but Ryou focused on the results, not the motives, and further lowered his guard.

Afterward, they began working on Monster World campaigns together, not admitting it was together because that would be something friends did, but the true change had been Battle City – more precisely, Marik. Marik made of gold and copper and amethyst, beauty enhanced by cruelty, cruelty hiding the damage inside him. Liken the world to an RPG and everyone in it would be NPC's, existing to provide information or initiate quests. Even Ryou's friends, though Ryou refused to admit it, existed for plot advancement. Jounichi shouting welcome to Coneria and Honda muttering mountains are nice, this is the life, over and over, nothing new, pass them by and find Yugi for a new quest. Marik was different. He was real like them, a character you could add to your party. But Bakura failed in his Shadow Game against Marik's dark half, an utter fucking 99 fumble that sent both his and Ryou's souls to the Shadows, and when it was all over there was nothing left to do but go back to Domino City.

Bakura looked at Marik and snorted. "Nothing changed. I've ruined his life and he hates me for it, but I won't stop until I've had my revenge."

Marik's eyes flicked to the sofa and back to Bakura. He used chopsticks to bite into a piece of onigiri before saying, "that was an awful lot of sex toys for people that hate and use each other."

"I'm not sure about that, Marik." Bakura smiled at him, a hungry, sultry smile. "I hate you and you're using me and we'll go through all of those toys and perhaps more before your stay is over."

Marik sat in Bakura's lap, straddling Bakura as he'd done before going to the store. He used his chopsticks to push the last bite of rice into Bakura's mouth. Marik stole a piece of burdock from Bakura's tray and bit into it, feeding the other half to Bakura. Bakura ran his tongue across the dark orange flesh of the vegetable before chewing.

Without thinking about it, Bakura broke into the soft, white flesh of the egg with his chopsticks, eating a piece of the white and giving the yolk to Marik. As they fed each other, Bakura tried to rationalize their actions in his mind, or at least figure an excuse for them, but there was nothing. They did it because it was fun. The comfortable weight of Marik on Bakura's lap felt pleasant. The white flash of teeth as Marik bit into a slice of daikon or carrot made Bakura want those teeth piercing into his throat. The nimble flicks of Marik's fingers as he maneuvered his chopsticks reminded Bakura of the way Marik stroked him that afternoon.

Bakura felt drunk, his face warm and flushed. Marik surely noticed, but he didn't taunt Bakura, his own eyes bright and deeper purple than normal, as if intoxicated himself. They finished their meal and set their trays and chopsticks aside. Marik reached out and glided his fingertips over Bakura's face as Bakura held Marik's waist with both hands. They leaned their mouths close together and pulled away, sometimes brushing their lips together but never fully kissing. Bakura felt his erection grow at an odd angle in his pants and had to push Marik away for a moment to readjust himself.

Marik slipped his hand down Bakura's pants while he was shifting, guiding Bakura's hand over his cock until Bakura closed his eyes and gasped. His teasing finished, Marik pulled away and stood up. "Do you have any good books I can borrow?"

Bakura shook his head and exhaled. "Look under the couch."

"I said good books, not garbage."

"Maiden Rose is actually quite good."

"I'm sure."

"Look around yourself." Bakura snorted and stood to get his pajamas and take a shower. Once out of the shower, he went to his room and noticed Marik laying naked in bed and reading one of Bakura's Host's paperbacks.

"What are you doing?" Bakura asked.

"Reading."

"Get out of my bed."

Marik smiled and looked over the pages of his novel. "Our bed, this is a one bedroom apartment, where else would I sleep?"

"The couch."

"Your den of debauchery? No thank you. Sleep there yourself if you want to, but I'm staying right here."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "There are more toys under the mattress, you know."

"You sick, fucking, perverts." Marik smiled, licking a finger to turn the page.

Bakura went to the other side of the bed. "Just because I let you fuck me doesn't mean we're going to share the same bed like a married couple."

Marik laughed, marking his place in the story by dogearing the page and setting the book on Ryou's nightstand. "I'm trying to picture the look on my sister's face – if I brought you home as a wife."

Bakura ground his teeth at the statement. "Marik, get the fuck out."

Marik reached over and grabbed the waistband of Bakura's pants. "Pajama bottoms? That's a little precious, don't you think?"

"Out."

"You should try sleeping naked, much more comfortable."

"Out of my bed."

"Your host's bed. Here, let me help you out of these pants."

Marik pulled Bakura onto the mattress, untying the string to his pants and pulling them down. Bakura struggled, to be difficult, and Marik pinned his wrists over his head. Once his pants were off, Bakura wrapped both legs around Marik, running his toes along Marik's calves and up his outer thighs.

"See? More comfortable naked, right?" Marik pressed his body against Bakura's.

"Better fuck me into exhaustion or I'm kicking you out of my room when we're finished."

"Trust me, when I'm finished you won't let me out of your arms."

"Bold talk, Marik Ishtar, how will you back it up?"

"It's a good thing you know my name, Bakura – you're about to be screaming it."

Bakura grunted and looked away to prevent a smile from curving up his lips, blaming his Host for the impulse. Marik tugged at Bakura's left nipple with his teeth, flicking his tongue as an afterthought. Bakura squeezed his thighs together, pressing Marik hard in between his legs and thrusting his hips up to tease Marik. Bakura adjusted his legs. Holding them around Marik's waist, he felt the lowest segment of textured flesh from Marik's back against his knee, but refused to lower his legs as he pushed himself against Marik. He needed, needed, as much contact between their bodies as possible. He needed it because of his Host's desire for Marik. He needed it because of his own desire for Marik. He needed it because the more Marik touched him – either hard thrusting or soft kissing – and the more Marik studied him – with eyes dressed in Kohl and unconfessed torment – the more Bakura remembered from his life. He remembered the feeling of new-woven flax cloth, the smell of morning air in the desert, the taste of figs stolen from a market stall. Fragments of memory resurrected themselves in the back of his mind as Marik's tongue drew patterns on Bakura's chest, and the memories made Bakura feel like a long-worn manacle had been removed from his wrists.

Bakura wiggled his arms out of Marik's hold, turning on his stomach and reaching under the mattress for another bottle of lube.

"I thought you were joking about having another stash." Marik took the bottle and separated Bakura.

Bakura sucked in a hissing breath, his entrance still sore from the afternoon.

"Do you want me?" Marik asked as he squeezed the gel over Bakura's asshole and guided his pointer finger inside.

"Marik, it's late. Let's drop our usual banter. I just want to be fucked."

Marik added more lubrication and two more fingers. "I can't let you get bored."

Bakura opened his mouth to retort, but realized Marik wouldn't quit until Bakura submitted to him in some way. He changed tactics, arching his back and riding his ass into Marik's three fingers. Bakura lowered his lids and allowed some of Ryou's soft gasps and cries to escape his mouth, effectively casting a spell to detour Marik's thoughts away from who controlled whom because the moment wasn't about control, it was about need. He and his Host shared the same body and the same white hair, they possessed powerful heka and owned souls strong as gods, but gods needed a priest. Bakura looked over his shoulder at Marik, who'd once wielded a priest's scepter in the form of the Millennium Rod.

Marik swallowed as Bakura stared at him, his fingers faltering for a moment before renewing their task. They both gasped, their desire for each other bleeding through their usual emotional armor. Marik added a third round of lubricant to Bakura and doused his cock as well. He held his shaft near the head, only pressing two inches of himself into Bakura.

Bakura ground his teeth, his sore body protesting Marik's advances. Marik moved slow, keeping the brunt of his length outside and teasing with his head against Bakura's asshole.

"More," Bakura demanded.

Marik slid his hand another two inches down his shaft and allowed himself to move deeper inside Bakura. After a few minutes, Marik released his hand and grabbed Bakura's hips. Marik groaned and pushed inside as far as he could. Bakura sighed as the pressure from Marik's cock pressed into him and enticed the nerves along his perineum and below his shaft.

Marik held Bakura's ribs, hands slippery with excess lube. "In the tomb everything was tan and brown and dark," Marik spoke in between thrusts and pants. "The walls, the snakes, our smocks, it all blurred together like mud. You never saw color. You never saw anything different, like purple, or beautiful, like pure white."

"Did you just call me beautiful?"

"Why not? You called me a silo of wheat."

"Yes," Bakura grunted, out of breath from Marik's body slamming into his. "A long, erect silo, filled with wheat."

"And are you the white sands in which I'll plant the wheat?"

"Yes, but nothing will ever grow."

They both laughed at their horrible pun, laughed even as they fucked. Bakura felt his Host rolling his eyes for a moment but Marik licked along their spine and the laughing stopped and Bakura shut his eyes and gasped. Marik leaned forward, left arm wrapped around Bakura's stomach and right hand toying with his balls. Bakura tried to make the noises coming from his mouth sound more like grunts and less like content whimpers but he was having trouble with it.

Hand still greased with lube, Marik gripped Bakura's shaft and pulled with a long, slow, upward stride of his hand. He pushed down in the same manner, his hand moving slow and strong and his hips moving quick and agile.

"M-Marik," Bakura groaned the name.

"Yes, Bakura. Say my whole name. Call it out."

Bakura bit the inside of his cheek, trying to stop himself from complying, but he felt Marik quicken inside him, close to his own orgasm, close to losing control if only for seven seconds, and Bakura caved. He pulled his head back and shouted, "Marik. Marik. Yes, Marik. Marik Ishtar, come inside me."

Marik's rhythm peaked in its intensity. His fingers twitched as they held Bakura's sides. "Bakura, oh Bakura, Bakura, Bakura, I'm – I'm cum – I'm – oh, oh gods, oh gods!"

Hearing Marik lose control of himself as he quivered and collapsed on top of Bakura's body sent both he and his Host over edge. He grabbed himself, his hand over Marik's and finished the last few strokes to make himself ejaculate, his breathing erratic to the point of hyperventilation. Bakura dropped to the mattress, Marik still laying over his back.

"I didn't think . . . I never thought you'd actually say it."

Bakura stayed quiet, not trusting himself to speak as he reclaimed his breath.

Marik pulled out, and a soft noise gurgled in his throat. "Um, Bakura, I think you're bleeding."

Bakura already suspected; they'd had sex twice in one day and Bakura felt pleasant, but raw inside.

"I've bleed for you before," Bakura whispered.

"I was different, then. I-I don't want to see blood anymore."

The part of him that dealt with that is gone, Bakura.

Bakura noted that his Host used his own name when he spoke as if it were the Spirit's name. He'd never done so before and Bakura wondered if he'd picked it up because of Marik. He stood up, taking Marik by the hand and pulling him to the bathroom. Marik stood under the bathroom light, oddly dazed as if his mind were somewhere else. Bakura wiped Marik clean with a towel and sat down on the toilet to examine himself. Only a small, bright splash of red soiled the white tissue paper in his hand. "I'm fine, Marik, you're over reacting." He washed and dried his hands and pulled Marik back to their bed.

Marik kept a faraway look on his face, as if maybe he was back in dark hallways of brown stone deep underground.

Bakura nudged Marik in the ribs, trying to call him back. "Well, I suppose a lay like that earns you a spot in my bed."

Marik blinked and looked at Bakura as if just realizing he was there. He grunted in response and lay against the pillows. "I'm going to have nightmares again tonight, aren't I?"

Bakura didn't expect the question. He thought about it for a moment. "Yes."

Ryou watched from inside his mind as the Spirit helped Marik ride out another nightmare. Marik lay in their arms, his face crumpled in pain. Marik jerked to a sitting position when he woke. "I'm going to vomit." He ran to their bathroom and gagged and spat over the water, but only spittle left his mouth.

The spirit stayed quiet and kept his distance, incapable of coping with the situation. Ryou also kept quiet, wanting to help but knowing kind words or encouragement would only serve to mock the torture Marik endured to create such nightmares. Marik stormed out of the bathroom. The Spirit took a shower to give Marik some time alone.

When they entered the living room, Marik looked up, his composure restored as if nothing happened. "I'm going out today. I like this shirt, but don't really want to wear it every day."

The Spirit shrugged. "I'll be gone as well. If you're going to be here for a while I don't want my Host's friends snooping around, so I'm going to let him pay them a visit today."

With this news Ryou grew excited. Spending time with Yugi was usually a bittersweet experience since Ryou never knew if the Spirit would cause trouble, but since the Spirit didn't want his friends to get suspicious, that meant a relaxing Sunday afternoon. Already showered and dressed, Ryou yanked control of his body away from the Spirit so he could go. He knew his friends spent Sunday mornings at Yugi's grandfather's game shop and wanted to meet them before they decided to go somewhere else for the afternoon.

Marik snorted when he noticed the switch. "So you heard that, did you? Does the little puppy get to play outside today?"

Ryou turned to look at Marik.

He's testing you.

Yes, I'm aware. Ryou thought at the Spirit.

They usually didn't speak to each other, and the dialogue in his mind tingled. Marik strode up to Ryou, backing him up against the door. The Spirit tried to reclaim the body but Ryou stopped him, holding his gaze with Marik's and allowing Marik to lean close enough to Ryou's face that he felt the tickle of Marik's breath against his cheek.

"I'm fucking the Spirit in your Ring. Did you know that?"

Ryou opened his eyes wide as if shocked. His mouth dropped slightly. "You're what? But, but you're both boys!"

Marik blinked, whatever reaction he expected, (probably for Ryou to blush and mutter that he was aware of their relationship in a soft, nervous voice,) was definitely not the reaction Ryou gave him.

The Spirit laughed in Ryou's mind. Ryou couldn't keep a straight expression so he hid his face in his hands and turned away, allowing his long hair to drop over his shoulders and mask the soft shaking of his body as tears instead of giggles.

"And I was saving myself for marriage," Ryou said, his voice also shaking.

The Spirit's normal composure dropped into hysterics.

"Are . . . are you serious?" Marik asked.

Ryou couldn't maintain his ruse, the Spirit laughed too hard in his head. "No." He dropped his hands to his knees and laughed freely. "And yes I know you're sleeping together. I was fully conscious yesterday."

The two neat arches of Marik's eyebrows furrowed together as he frowned. "Goddammit, I don't believe I fell for that."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Ryou held his stomach, trying to hold in the laughter that threatened to burst through his navel. "I couldn't help it."

Marik pushed Ryou against the door.

Ryou sucked in a breath, his laughter gone, Ryou felt his face grow flush. "You're cute when you're pissed off, Marik."

Marik gritted his teeth. "You're as bad as Bakura in your own way."

"Well." Ryou straightened and removed Marik's hands away from his shirt. He looked at Marik for a moment before stealing a long, but more sloppy than he wanted it to be, kiss. "Bakura is my name."

He left before Marik could respond to the kiss or the banter.

The Spirit still chortled in their mind. You're not getting away with that. Just make sure he knows I had nothing to do with it.

Oh no, if I go down with the ship, you're drowning with me. It's your fault he's here.

Yes, because I sent him an invitation to come and stay.

They stopped. Silence filled their conjoined mind as they both realized they were too close to having a conversation. Ryou sighed and put his hands in his pockets as he walked to the game shop, stopping by a store to purchase something for breakfast.

When he reached Yugi's place, Ryou knocked on the back door. He knew they'd be sitting in the kitchen and playing card games. A minute later, Yugi's face appeared in the doorway. His eyes lit up when he saw Ryou. "Bakura? We haven't seen you in a while."

"Sorry." Ryou scratched behind his ear. "I've been kinda busy since school got out."

"Are you working?"

"No." Ryou smiled at the thought of he and the Spirit trying to make it through a workday without anyone getting murdered, or at least penalty-gamed. "I've just been focusing on a new Monster World campaign. I guess that's not a good reason to become a hermit. I'll try to be more social."

Jonouchi cringed. "You still play that game? How could you after everything we went through?"

Ryou thought the statement ironic coming from Jonouchi as he sat at the table with a deck of Duel Monster cards in his hands, but Ryou shrugged and smiled without giving a verbal reply.

"Come in and sit down." Yugi resumed playing cards with Jonouchi. He won, Jonouchi insisted on a rematch and lost to Yugi a second time. As they played the others made small talk. Ryou found the conversation mundane and had trouble paying attention. Instead, he daydreamed about the day before, the feeling of Marik's tongue on his skin and hands holding his hips. Not only did the daydreams serve to pass the time, but they distracted the Spirit. He crouched in the back of Ryou's mind, stressed and distrustful of Yugi as he watched the card game, expecting Yugi's Other self to appear. Ryou sighed, realizing he'd rather be at home, painting the stalls for the market place in his diorama.

"Earth to Ryou, are you home?" Honda waved his hand slow across Ryou's field of vision.

Ryou blinked back to the moment. "Sorry, my mind wandered off. What were you saying?"

Anzu smiled. "I think Bakura needs some fresh air."

"That's a good idea. Let's go outside and play basketball," Honda said.

"I don't know." Yugi winced at the thought. "Couldn't we just play Duel Monsters for a little while longer?"

"Yeah. I'm still polishing up my skills," Jonouchi agreed.

Anzu sighed. "You lose every game."

"That's why I need to keep playing."

Anzu stood, resting her hands on her hips. "Okay, it's two against two. Bakura your vote decides what we do."

"Um, me?"

"Yeah, basketball or card games?"

Ryou's body ached, especially where his legs joined his hips and his lower abdominal muscles, but he didn't have his cards and felt like his mind was going to shut down from boredom. "Uh, basketball, I guess?"

"Ah, Bakura." Jonouchi pouted.

Honda laughed and hooked his arm around Ryou's shoulders. "Quit complaining, Jonouchi, going outside won't kill you."

"No, this will be fun, too." Yugi smiled. Now that the decision was made he looked content with the idea.

They walked to a park and found an empty court. None of them were very good at the sport, which made Ryou feel better about all the shots he missed. His hair kept tucking under his arms and blowing into his face. Ryou clawed the white mess out of the way, but to no avail.

"Here." Anzu handed Ryou a hair tie.

"Thank you." He nodded and fastened his hair into a knot behind his head. Loose strands still scattered across the sides of his face, but the brunt of his hair held in the bun.

After that, he made more shots because his hair wasn't in his eyes. He and Honda played against Yugi and Jonouchi while Anzu cheered everyone on from the sidelines. He and Honda led by five points and Jonouchi began overreacting, as usual.

Honda cupped his hands around his mouth. "Are you going to talk about the game or play it, Jonouchi?"

"Play it, and I'm going to win!"

Honda laughed, dribbling the ball. He went for a shot, but Yugi intercepted it. Only, when Ryou looked, he realized it wasn't Yugi. The fine, white hairs on Ryou's neck pricked up and gooseflesh pinched his arms when the Spirit noticed the switch. The Pharaoh tossed the ball into the air and it swished into the net.

"Yes! Point for the Other Yugi," Jonouchi cheered.

"Isn't that kinda cheating?" Ryou asked.

No, dear Host, it's only cheating if we tried to play that way.

"They do everything together," Jonouchi said.

"Well, I guess it's okay." Honda shrugged, taking the ball off court and passing it to Ryou.

Ryou moved towards their goal. The Pharaoh tried to steal the ball again, his style of playing much more aggressive than Yugi's, but Ryou dodged him and scored two more points. With the Pharaoh's combative tactics and the adrenaline rushing through Ryou's blood because of the Spirit, the game became a showdown between the two of them. They kept matching each other, point for point, hardly giving the others a chance at the ball. When Jonouchi missed a shot and the ball fell back towards the court, Ryou and the Pharaoh both lunged for it. Ryou reached it first, but the Pharaoh pushed into him with his shoulder, knocking Ryou onto the cement court. He landed on his tailbone. A sharp pain stabbed up his spine, made worse by the fact that his body was still tender from Marik.

Ryou blacked out.

The Spirit acted on reflex. He wretched control of the body from his Host and shot up, slamming the Pharaoh to the ground.

"Bakura, chill out. He didn't mean to knock you down." Jonouchi grabbed his arm.

He smacked the hand away. "Don't touch my Host," he snarled, and that was his mistake, saying my Host instead of me.

"Shit, it's the Other Bakura."

Both Jonouchi and Honda took his arms, restraining him. Honda reached under his shirt and pulled out the Millennium Ring hidden beneath the fabric.

The Pharaoh dusted himself off and walked towards Bakura. "I knew you stole that from my room on Kaiba's blimp."

He wanted to kick the smug expression off of the Pharaoh's face. "Yes, always quick to accuse me of theft, but tell me, how do I steal what's already mine?"

"Stop controlling Bakura's body."

The Spirit smirked. "I'm not the only one here sharing a body."

Ryou managed to push himself back to their conscious mind and reclaim his body. "Stop it. Both of you. Stop it, please."

Bakura snorted in the back of their head, waiting to see how the Pharaoh would react and ready to steal control again.

The Pharaoh's face contorted for a moment, as if arguing, and then his vessel returned. The Pharaoh's Host sighed, a little winded, as if he'd had to fight to make the Pharaoh return to the Puzzle. "Bakura, are you okay? I didn't mean to push you to the ground. The game just got too heated, sorry."

"I'm fine, Yugi." His Host smiled. "I'm sorry I knocked you down as well."

"Ryou." Yugi stared at the ground. "Why'd you take the Ring back?"

His Host looked away. "Why'd you lie when I asked you where it was?"

They didn't speak. The noise of children playing soccer in the fields besides them echoed across the park. A breeze evaporated sweat from his Host's forehead. He looked to his left and his right. "Um, if you let go of my arms, I'll go home now."

"You don't have to go home," Yugi said.

His Host rubbed his left shoulder where Jonouchi held a little too firm. "It's okay, Yugi. I think it's better this way."

He feinted a smile for them and Bakura wanted to slap him for it. "Don't worry if you don't see me around for awhile, Yugi. If I come over, our other selves will just fight, and I don't want that." He took Yugi's hand into both his own. "But, but I still want to be your friend."

Yugi threw his arms around Bakura's Host in a hug, standing on his toes to reach Ryou's shoulders. "We're always going to be friends."

They stood there for a moment. Bakura felt the stinging in his Host's eyes from tears Ryou refused to shed. His Host reached up to pull the tie from his hair but Anzu, who'd ran to them when the commotion happened, put her hand on top of his to stop him. "Keep it. Until the next time you come over. Give it back then."

Ryou sniffed. "Yeah. Okay."

He pulled away from Anzu's hand and Yugi's embrace. "I'll see you guys around."

They walked away, back to their nearby apartment.

Ryou . . .

He couldn't finish the sentence. He wasn't sure what compelled him to start speaking or call his Host by name.

My tailbone hurts. You think Marik will kiss it and make it better?

No, I think he'll still be pissed at you when we get home.

Maybe if I cook dinner. I'm in the mood for an omelet.

They stopped by the store, buying ingredients for omelets and enough groceries to last a week. His Host's mood improved when he got into the kitchen, steaming leftover rice, chopping vegetables and using chopsticks to scramble the eggs. As long as he focused on something else, he didn't have to think about his emotions, and that suited them both.

Ryou started singing as he cooked. "Dango, dango, dango, dango, dango, dango, daikazoku."

Not that song.

His Host ignored him and continued singing as he folded the omelets. He garnished the dish with carrots cut in the shape of blossoms with snow pea leaves and set both plates on his table along with two cups of green tea.

Marik walked through the door as if the scene had been scripted. Bakura's Host looked up and gave Marik a sad smiled. "If I told you I had a bad day, would you skip whatever revenge you planned for me because of this morning?"

Marik dropped his bags near the door and marched with a steady gait to the table. "Have I been known to show mercy?"

"What if I bribed you with dinner?"

"Not likely to work, but you can give it a try."

"I'm really good at cooking."

Marik sat down and took a bite, he didn't say anything, but Bakura could tell by his face that he enjoyed the food. He chewed slow, contemplative, swallowing and sipping his tea. At length, he asked, "why was your day bad? Weren't you with Yugi?"

Ryou sighed. "The Spirit. The Pharaoh. The usual bullshit."

Marik gestured to the Ring. "Bakura, wasn't it your idea to let him go over there?"

Marik's comment irritated Bakura. For the second time, he took control of the body, though this time he left Ryou in their conscious mind. He ground his teeth for a moment before answering Marik. "The damned Pharaoh knocked him to the ground. What was I supposed to do?"

Marik rolled his eyes. "I don't really see the Pharaoh knocking people to the ground without a reason."

"Oh, he had a reason. Ryou was beating him in a game and he couldn't take it so he started playing rough."

Bakura, at least let me eat my omelet.

Bakura snorted, but switched places with his Host once again.

Marik raised his eyebrow at the change.

"What?" Ryou asked, taking another bite. "It took me an hour to make these. I'm not letting him eat them."

Marik laughed. He had to stop eating so he didn't choke. Ryou grinned, using the opportunity to slide his foot under the table and poke at Marik's toes. Marik's expression was difficult to read as Ryou played with his feet. Bakura didn't think Marik knew how to respond and didn't want to show it. He almost envied his Host's subtle way of flirting and didn't mind because he knew they'd both reap the benefits from the action later.

"What game were you playing?" Marik asked.

"Basketball."

"Oh? I don't really see you playing that game. It doesn't have dice."

Ryou's toe traveled up Marik's foot to his ankle. "I think you assume too much about me, Marik."

Thought you wanted to eat your omelet?

Just getting dessert ready before I finish dinner.

"I was wrong," Marik said, "you're not as bad as Bakura – you're much worse."

"Thank you." His foot was up to Marik's calf but his face stayed serene.

"That wasn't, on second thought, yes. I suppose you should take that as a compliment."

They finished eating and then Marik leaned across the table and pulled at the knot of hair behind Ryou's head.

He snatched Anzu's hair tie from Marik and slipped it over his wrist before shaking his hair loose around his shoulders. "I've been sweating. I need another shower."

Marik grinned. "Good idea."

***If you get the "Mountains are nice" and the "Welcome to Coneria" references without having to Google them - then you're awesome, just saying. If you don't know what games those are from, then you're probably too young to read this, even if you're 18 or over, lol. In other news, today is Friday 13th and my black cat just broke a mirror (seriously), this fact amuses me to no end so I had to share it with all twelve of you who actually read my stories :) ***