Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yami's knock found Pegasus in his room. After a rainy start, the afternoon had turned clear, and he and the Earl had gone out for a walk. Supposedly, they were grouse-hunting, but it was the most transparent of fictions. - "Grouse don't like this wet weather, Max, it makes finding food hard, you know." - Instead, they'd just walked, just admiring the fall foliage, and enjoying the chance to get some fresh air away from the house.

"I'm not letting Donald go back to India, after Christmas," James had told Pegasus.

"He's of age," he'd responded, or some such standard response. "Surely he can make his own decisions?"

But his father had shaken his head. "No," he'd said. "I'm not getting any younger. It's time for my heir to stay put where he belongs, and marry. I'd like to know for sure that the Jardine family will continue, Max."

Sometimes the problem with being a confidence man, Pegasus thought, was that people were so ready to put their confidence in one. The Earl of Kirkconnell was a wealthy man. He could afford to lose a good deal more than the one family emerald, and he'd never feel it when it came time to pay the bills. Bills? Hah, he could probably go the rest of his life and never pay them. Pegasus knew how these noblemen lived, from hearing his mother's stories: Creditors were ready to line up for the honor of serving the Earl of This, or the Duke of That. And as for reminding them, if payment came due and they didn't pay on time? Anathema! He and Yami could probably clean the Jardine family out entirely, and they'd never notice it a whit. But they were going to notice the loss of "Donald".

Just for this short time, he and Yami were allowing them to feel like they still had an eldest son. Donald was probably dead somewhere, killed by tigers, or cholera, or cobras maybe. His bones were rotting on foreign soil, and just for a few weeks, Pegasus and Yami were telling the Jardines that it wasn't so. How would James feel when they left, and it all turned out to be a lie? How would Margaret feel?

It was an uncomfortable thought, one he was trying to block out right now, with a stiff whiskey and soda, and an American detective novel. He hadn't been so successful, thus far though. The adventures of Raffles the gentleman jewel thief came too close to reality, to make for comfortable reading. Pegasus was relieved, when he heard the knock, and he opened the door, hoping his visitor would provide diversion.

"Can I have a moment of your time, Max?" Yami, at the door, brought with him the fresh smell of the out-of-doors. He must have just come in, and he looked the better for the exercise, his cheeks rosy under his golden tan, and his eyes bright. But his expression looked, just slightly, harassed.

"Certainly, Donald," Pegasus was quick and suave to respond. He stepped back, allowing Yami to enter, and then closed the door quickly.

"My apologies," Yami said, crossing the room to sit in one of the comfortable chairs by the window. "It's been a while since we actually spoke."

"Don't worry, Donald," Pegasus said. "Family comes first, I understand that. What are you doing here?" he added, in a much lower voice. "What can you possibly have to say to me, that couldn't have been said in public?"

Yami sat flopped in his chair by the window. He looked completely done in. But at Pegasus' words, he sat up straighter. "I wanted to compare notes," he said a little stiffly, "to talk about our progress."

"Progress, Donald?" It was Pegasus' company-voice. He continued, speaking lower again: "Do you think there are servants about, Yami?"

His companion shook his head.

"You've spent too much time in hotels," Pegasus said. "Dear boy, on one of these old family estates, there are always servants about. They're like black beetles in a London kitchen. You don't see them most of the time, but get up too early, or take a turn down the wrong corridor, and there they'll all be, scurrying about."

"See that hole there?" He spoke lightly, and pointed at a place where rodents had nibbled the wainscotting, his smile humorous. "I daresay if you looked in there, you'd find a housemaid or two. Possibly a footman as well.

Yami was sitting up straight now, and looking at him unamused. "Is there a point?"

"I suppose the point is, that you know all this," Pegasus said. "You've never been one who needed your hand held while we did a job. What's happened that's rattled you, ah, Donald?"

"It's nothing." Yami frowned. "I think one of Yuugi's friends suspects me. Her name's Téa Gardiner," he continued. "We went to tea at the ABC after I picked up Yuugi, and she was asking some very searching questions."

"So charm her," -

"So maybe she can't be charmed, not everybody is charmable, Pegasus." Yami was sitting up very straight now, and he looked ...unhappy, frustrated maybe. "She only wants to protect Yuugi," he said. "Can you blame her?"

It was the boy, of course, Donald's brother. Pegasus had seen how quickly Yami had taken to him when they met. He'd seen how Yuugi made any effort, to spend time with his "brother".

"Don't start feeling guilty on me," he told Yami. "We're not doing the boy any harm. "One little emerald, do you think Yuugi even cares about it?" he said, pushing back his awareness that Yuugi's father, at least, cared a great deal about this family heirloom. "Do you think any of them will notice, live any differently, once it's gone?"

"Please, Yuugi doesn't care for that emerald thing at all." Yami made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Of course not," Pegasus began, then stopped, as Yami just kept on talking.

"He dreams of becoming an architect," he said with a fond tone in his voice, "a landscape artist or an Egyptologist.. a professor of course, not working in the field. He can't stay away from his family too long, or else he'd get sick."

"A peer of the realm, working with his hands?" Pegasus laughed. "Jardine's right, that boy's been too sheltered. It's time he grew up and learned some common sense." He looked up, but instead of sharing his amusement, Yami was looking at him, a little affronted.

"Yuugi's something special," he said. "He's honest, and totally open with everyone. It's no wonder that girl Téa is so adamant about protecting him."

"He's a dreamer, if that's what you mean." Pegasus looked at his partner. "You're not falling for his dreams, are you? You've been around enough, you should know: Peers can afford to live in Cloud Cuckooland. They can send the heir to the title off to India and let God knows what happen to him, and raise a younger son so innocent, he thinks he's going to grow up to be a landscape architect." - The sarcasm was heavy in his voice. - "That's all right for them," he said, "but some of us have to earn our living. Don't lose your perspective, Yami."

"My perspective's fine." Yami looked away from Pegasus, stared out the window, where dusk was closing in on the house now, still visible through the undrawn curtains.

"Mother is planning to have a birthday tea, for Donald on Saturday," he said in a stiff tone. "Nothing big, Yuugi tells me, just a frosted cake and a few presents. It's when I'll get the Emerald, I suppose."

"Of course," Pegasus said. "And your 'father' will expect you to wear it on Christmas." He smiled. "I wonder if he's already got the Scots costume you're to wear it with, or if you'll have to have one fitted. You'll look good in Scots costume," he said.

It wasn't everyone who could carry off Scots costume, Pegasus thought. Most men didn't have the knees for it. With some, their legs were too bony, with others - And a lot of trueborn Scotsmen fell in this category. - their natural ginger-coloring made for legs that were comical, all pink-colored and hairy. Yami though, with his slim body and golden-colored skin, would carry off the kilt to perfection, and his natural dignity would rise above the more ridiculous details of the costume, such as that furry pocket-that hung right over a man's willy, and the rather egregious color-clash there was going to be, between the Jardine family tartan, and the Lochmaben Emerald. ...The Emerald, he thought smiling, now they knew when they'd have it in their possession.

Yami was not smiling. He stared out the window at the gathering darkness, with an expression that was glum and angry at the same time.

"You're not hurting the boy," Pegasus told him. "You're just taking an ornament he doesn't care about anyway. He'll still have his family, he'll still have all his friends, and you said that's what matters to him, didn't you?"

A nod, half-sketched, was all the response Yami gave him, but Pegasus, who wasn't good with encouraging words in the first place, had run out of them. "Buck up," he said, clapping his partner on his stiff, tense shoulder. "Keep telling yourself this is just another job," he told him. "When we're celebrating the New Year on the Cote d'Azur, it'll all be behind us."

Yami didn't answer for a long moment. Then he drew a deep sigh. "Right." He stood. "I'd better go get dressed for dinner," he said. "My family" - And was Pegasus imagining the bitter edge he put to the word? - "might wonder if I'm late."

Normally, Yami liked wearing his dinner clothes. He liked the slim look of his figure, dressed all in black, and the contrast of his golden-tanned skin, against his white shirt front. Tonight, they gave him no pleasure. All he could think was, how stupid it was the way the gentry made you dress up in a monkey suit just to eat. It was of a piece with all the other stupidities of these upper-crust people, how they lived, all isolated, with servants to attend their every whim, and how they raised their children to know nothing of the world. Pegasus was right, he thought, the whole Jardine family was out of touch with reality. What kind of people, he thought, let the heir to an Earldom go jaunting off to India to get himself killed, when he should have been at home learning to ...learning to Earl, or whatever it was called? What kind of people raised their second son, so innocent that he honestly didn't think anyone would betray him? Didn't they know someone always betrayed everyone? It was part of life, and they'd sheltered Yuugi from it. Now he was going to get hurt, and it was their fault.

He came down the stairs feeling distinctly angry with the Jardines, his so-called parents, for the careless way they'd treated their children. He didn't feel angry at Pegasus for what he'd said to him earlier, in his room. After all, his partner in crime had only told him the truth: This was another job for them, and Yuugi was just another mark, and it was best to get done what needed doing, without a lot of emotional involvement. He didn't feel angry at Yuugi either, he told himself. After all, it wasn't the boy's fault, he'd been raised as sheltered and petted as any old widow's lapdog. It wasn't his fault, he didn't have a clue about reality.

But he didn't. He thought life was all big dreams, and good friends, and happy times, but it wasn't. Life was hard, outside Yuugi's sheltered, cosseted little enclave. Real people had to work, to put food on the table, and sometimes they had to do things they weren't proud of. Sometimes people got hurt. It was inevitable, and the only people that were surprised by it, were the petted, over-privileged sons of the nobility, who'd been raised so they were still children at 18

He entered the dining room, and its fanciness just irritated him the more. A sleek white tablecloth, set with old bone china, and silverware so heavy, and elegant, that all by itself, it could pay a couple months of his and Pegasus' living expenses; candles flickering, because even though the Jardines had gas lighting, his "mother" always said it was too harsh and glaring for the dinner table. He sat in his customary place, and Yuugi, next to him, gave him a smile.

"Mother had Cook prepare the mutton rare," he said, "the way you always liked it." Meanwhile, behind him and Yami, a footman bent, pouring some kind of fancy red wine, a little, with water, for Yuugi, a full glass for the "older brother". A second one brought the soup, which had sort of a curry-smell to it, no doubt in Donald's honor. Yami's heart sank more than it already had. He liked his fancy food, and the occasional glass of fancy wine to go with it, as well as the next man, but this wasn't just food, he was being given. This was family ties made visible, and a lot of love being offered, not for him, but for Donald, who had probably been dust for a couple of years now. Every bite he took, and every bit of enjoyment he got from it, would be satisfaction and happiness now, for the Jardines sitting at the table eating with him. But it would only hurt them the worse - It would only hurt Yuugi the worse. - later on, wouldn't it, when they found out it was all a lie.

If Yuugi was taken aback or offended that his "brother" wasn't replying, he didn't show it, just eating his soup with a smile on his face, enjoying the spicy taste of it. Pegasus, on the other side of the table next to the Countess looked perfectly at-ease as well. As for the Countess, she and her husband took their time eating, sending fond glances toward Yuugi and "Donald", as though still unable to believe their eldest son had returned.

The problem was, that he hadn't. The problem, Yami thought, was that he wasn't Donald. He'd grown up in harsh circumstances, with plenty of nights sleeping with an empty stomach on a cold bench, or a hard bunk at a 'friend's' house. He had longed for wealth and luxury his entire life, and he had gotten it when he 'hooked up' with Pegasus. He learned how to lie, learned how to betray, learned how to steal. It had given him the luxury he longed for, but it had never given him any warmth. This was what he'd been missing out on his entire life. The stability and warm home that only a family could give him. And now that he seemed to have found it, he was about to destroy it. The soup was tasty, and he tried to eat it, but it was hard to force anything down, bitter as he felt. Only the wine went down easily, and Yami drank it quickly, while his soup remained mostly untouched.

Yuugi, for his part, talked cheerfully about everything the way he normally did, ignoring, or glossing over his "brother's" silence until his soup was gone. Then, he set down his spoon and looked at him. "Donald," he said, "what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Yami tried to keep his voice calm, but it was hard, as tense as he felt. "Why should anything be wrong?" he all but demanded.

Yuugi's eyes widened. "Donald?" he said.

"I'm tired," Yami told his "brother". "Just let it go at that, will you? I'm tired, and I didn't eat my soup yet. Just as he lifted his spoon out of the now-congealing stuff in his bowl and prepared to take a bite, another footman appeared behind him to take it. "God damn it," he burst out before he could stop himself. "Can't a man bloody eat in peace?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back again. Yami looked up (as the footman discretely set a plate of mutton and vegetables in front of him and moved on) to see the whole table looking at him, his "mother" shocked, his "father" disapproving, and Pegasus, of course, looking nervous.

"I'm sorry, I ...I misspoke." Yami searched his conman's repertoire; surely the right words had to be in there somewhere. But somehow, they were not.

"He's sickening for something," the Countess said. "Donald always was grumpy when he wasn't feeling well. Did you see?" She had to raise her voice as she continued, as her husband was weighing in with his own opinion at the same time. "He hardly touched his soup. Donald dear, do you feel feverish at all?"

Meanwhile from the head of the table, "he's forgotten how to behave in polite company," her husband said in tones of outrage. Looking at his "son", "I don't know how they do things in India," he told him, "but here in Scotland, we have manners. This is neither the time nor the place for gutter language, Donald."

"You're right of course, Margaret." Pegasus' light tone was soothing balm for the whole further company (which was further soothed, as another footman came round behind the one with the food, pouring everyone refills on the wine). "I've often noticed it," he said. "When Donald's tired, he gets irritable." He gave Yuugi a teasing smile. "I don't know what you two did while you were out, that got him so tired.

"Me?" Yuugi started, guilt already flooding his face. Pegasus was taking entirely the wrong note with him, Yami knew it, and he knew exactly what he should have said, that would have put things right in a moment. Only his black mood clung to him, and somehow he couldn't get the words out.

"Did you throw him out of the pony cart and make him walk back to the castle?" Pegasus' words were playful enough, but Yami could tell by Yuugi's deepening blush, that they were making him feel worse, rather than better.

"I just ...we just talked," he faltered. "A-and we went to the ABC."

"The ABC?" The Countess stared at her younger son. "A teashop? Yuugi, you know Cook would have served you tea at home."

"We went," - Yuugi darted a glance toward his father. - "w-with Joey, Tristan and Téa." He looked like he'd shrunk, his eyes violet pools of misery, his voice soft and nervous. Yami fought back the waves of guilt that surged through him. It was his fault Yuugi was being put on the hot spot. He was the one who'd caused a fuss and drawn everyone's attention. He could make things right now, with just a few words, but those words didn't want to come.

"Shopkeepers' children." The Earl's comment was brief, but pointed, and the criticism in it made Yuugi blush and stammer all the more.

"We had ...tea," he said, "a-and cakes. And we talked about everything what came up to mind. Maybe it was too much for Donald. Maybe I tired him out." Like always, Yuugi took the responsibility on himself. He wouldn't think to say a bad word about his beloved 'brother', but would always defend him with his life.

"Big brother Donald" should say something right now, and Yami knew it. He should talk to his father and stand up for Yuugi. He knew it, but he just couldn't make himself do it, because it would all be part of the con. He didn't want to playact Donald, he wanted to be him, for the rest of his life. It wasn't even the money he wanted, he thought, it was the family. He wanted a stern but loving father like the Earl, and a doting, protective mother like the Countess. He wanted a younger brother who looked up to him, who gave trust, and encouragement ...and love, as generously and eagerly as Yuugi did. And he'd never have it, would he? The best he could ever hope for, was to go through life unscathed and frivolous like Pegasus, conning other frivolous people out of their jewelry, flitting from luxury hotel to luxury hotel, but never with a family, never with anyone, anywhere, who really loved him.

Yami didn't realize he had sunken deep in his thoughts while silence had fallen over the table. Then he felt Yuugi's hand on his arm and he looked up.

"Donald," his brother said. "I ...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Now when he needed big brother Donald more than he ever had, Yami couldn't find him, not at all. He couldn't find Yami-the-conman, Pegasus' partner. All that was there was the motherless street kid who'd used to stare into lighted windows back in London, and envy the happy families he'd see there, and here he was now again, on the outside of another family circle.

"I'm not hungry." Yami pulled his arm away from Yuugi and got up, shoving his chair back. "I'm going to my room," he said. And don't come after me." He threw a look of nothing but anger at Yuugi, and fled the dining room, trying to forget the look of shock and pain he'd seen in his "brother's" eyes.

Taking the two long flights of stairs, and the equally long corridor that led to Donald's room at a fast pace, almost a run, did nothing to cool Yami's temper. He burst into the room, and he threw the door shut behind him, the noise immediately muffled by the stone walls, and all the expensive distance between him and the dining room. Slamming a door in a castle wasn't very satisfying, and neither was holing up in this room that so very clearly wasn't his. All around him were reminders of the missing Donald. Yami kicked Donald's chair out of the way as he crossed the room. He shoved Donald's copy of Kim that he'd left open on the bed earlier, onto the floor, and sat down (on Donald's coverlet). "God damn it," he muttered, not in the snooty, upper-crust tones Pegasus had taught him, but in his own natural, East-London Cockney accent. "Bloody 'ell, why can't they leave a man alone?"

He didn't normally lose control over himself like this. What was wrong? Where was the perspective he normally kept during a con? ...Where was his survivor's instinct? Yami sat on the bed. He stared into space at nothing, while his mind filled up with pictures: He saw the Countess' face, protective, worried, filled with concern for the older son she loved so much. He saw the Earl's, dignified, full of the authority he wanted both his sons to learn. Most of all, he saw Yuugi's. First he pictured the happiness that had been there during their ride home that afternoon. Then he the look of worry his "brother" had given him at the dinner table, and then the shocked, pained expression that had filled his face when Yami had lashed out at him.

He was fucked if he couldn't hold onto his perspective, he told himself. This was just another con, it had to be, because there sure as hell was no future for him with the Jardine family. He had a job to do, and he'd better do it and get the fuck out, before he and Pegasus were found out, before he was exposed as the fraud he was and he lost Yuugi's friendship forever. ...He stared at the wall, and he told himself he was going to be cold and detached like Pegasus from now on. After a while he stretched out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling instead, and telling himself how he was going to keep an emotional distance from Yuugi. He was going to play the role of Donald for him, give him the big brother he wanted so badly for as long as he was here. What was the harm? At least Yuugi would have Donald back for a few weeks, at least he'd have this one Christmas with him to remember.