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.

All week long, those words echoed in Yuugi's head. Not the ones about him being a fugitive, - That was just Téa being overprotective; his parents would never have him arrested, no matter what they found out about him, Yuugi was sure of it. – but the ones about how wrong it was to love Donald, and, more and more, about his brother maybe not being who he pretended to be. It would explain a lot. It would explain why his skin was golden-colored all over; didn't tans fade when you were out of the sun? It would explain how his manner had changed since he came back; Donald had never been affectionate when he used to come home on holiday. …It would explain his own feelings, because a man couldn't love his brother the way he loved Donald, could he?

Maybe it was the other words that were echoing, the ones about the wrongness of their love. Because when he let himself think about Donald's not being his brother, Yuugi felt a little whisper of hope at the back of his mind, as if some burden might be lifted. And if he could think about there being an imposter in his family, there for his own lying, cheating purposes, and feel anything but outrage and anger, that was the wrongest part of the whole situation, wasn't it?

Everyone at home did nothing at all but try to make him feel better. Cook made all his favorite dishes for tea, day after day, but the cream buns and fairy cakes were just there, just something to feed him when he was hungry, and half the time they went back downstairs un-tasted. Mother petted and worried over him (when she wasn't busy talking to Colonel Crawford) and took his temperature more times than Yuugi could count. And Donald was right there, all the time, with sweet words and tender touches that somehow just made Yuugi feel worse than ever.

Outside, the weather was being its usual December self. Cold days alternated with warmer days, fog alternated with rain. Yuugi didn't care. The grey skies matched the greyness of his mood. And the clouds? Well, if he was going to be honest, they matched with his temper, which he was finding hard to control these days, and snapping, not just at people like Donald who were (or might be?) responsible, but at his school-friends, and even the servants at home, who had done nothing to deserve it, as well.

And then Thursday afternoon the blow fell. A rainy morning had faded into another grey, overcast afternoon. Donald had offered as usual, but Yuugi had refused to let him drive him to school, so when he came out at 4:00, it was Henry at the reins waiting for him. They made their usual stop at the post office; Yuugi went in and got the mail.

One letter grabbed his attention, its torn, ragged condition and foreign stamps warning him that there was something important about it. Yuugi swallowed. He checked, and the return address said East India Company. Were they cutting short Donald's vacation time? He didn't bother looking further. He didn't look at the date stamp, or check who the letter was addressed to. All he was thinking about was how this was going to be the time when he found out if Donald meant what he promised: Was he going to obey the summons and go back, or sever his ties with the company he'd worked for these past seven years and stay here with Yuugi? Eagerly, he opened the envelope. He unfolded the papers inside. And then he let out a little choking gasp as he read the first words of the letter:

"It is with deepest regrets that we inform Your Lordship…" His hands shaking, Yuugi turned to the other page. He looked at the embossed seal of an official colonial death certificate. And, unbelieving, he read the date, a date almost two years' past.

"I…" His hands were shaking so much he almost lost the letter. There was a breeze blowing, and it fluttered, trying to get out of his hands.

"Is there something wrong, Master Yuugi?" Henry turned a concerned face toward him to see Yuugi re-folding the letter.

"No." The lie came without him even having to think. This was big; it was huge. Téa had been right all along; Donald was lying to him. But somehow Yuugi couldn't bring himself to reveal the secret to Henry. Maybe a groom just didn't seem like the right person to be first in finding out that the Jardine family had been harboring an imposter, or maybe… Yuugi didn't like to think about what else it was that might be staying his tongue.

They made the rest of the trip in silence, the sound of the wind, and the slow clop-clop of the horse's hooves a quiet backdrop for Yuugi's not-so-quiet thoughts. Returning home, he dismounted at the door as he always did, his legs stiff and his mind in a whirl.

Donald was at the door waiting for him, as he'd been every day of the week, ever since Yuugi had refused to ride with him any more on Tuesday. His look was just as warm as always, and his voice just as fond. "Yuugi."

"Who are you?" Dimly, Yuugi heard Henry pulling away from the doorstep, heading toward the stables to put the horse and cart away. Dimly, he felt the letter, still clutched in his right hand. He was shaking it, maybe that was what drew Donald's eyes, or maybe it was just his guilty conscience.

"Not here," Donald said.

"Why?"

"If you love me," Donald said, "please Yuugi, not here." He took his hand, - And God help him, Yuugi let him. – and led him around the house, to Mother's Shakespeare garden, now bare and dead for the winter. He sat on one of the cold benches, pulling at Yuugi's hand to bring him down beside him.

But Yuugi balked. "Look at this letter!" He'd thought he would shout it, but now saying it, his voice was low, only a little shrillness showing. ""Read it, Donald," he said.. "READ IT!" He threw the paper.

Donald took it. "I don't have to," he said softly. He looked down at the paper in his hand, not meeting Yuugi's eye. "I know what it says."

"You're…" He'd thought he would be throwing his new knowledge in the other's face. He'd expected anger, judgment, anything but the sorrow and pain that were flooding him now. "You're d..d…"

"Your brother is dead, I know." Donald, or whoever he was, still spoke very softly. "We both knew, Pegasus and I. I… I wanted to tell you."

"You wanted to tell me?" Yuugi felt tears in his eyes. He heard his voice shaking. "You wanted…"

"You were just a mark. We weren't going to do any harm."

The tears were coming faster and faster. Yuugi could barely even see it, as the stranger-who-wasn't-Donald looked up at him. He thought he saw sorrow on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "My brother is dead," he said, through the sobs that were coming. "And you thought …You thought…"

"Yuugi, please!" Not-Donald stood. He put out his hands, but Yuugi didn't go to him.

"You're a liar," he said. "You lied, you used me…"

"Yes."

Yuugi looked at him. Now that he knew the truth, every difference between this stranger and Donald stood out like it had an electric light on it: His skin, which was too-tan, -Foreigner-tan, not the color Donald's skin used to turn in the sun. – his clothes, which looked brand-new and elegant, not like the well-used, practical garments Donald used to favor, his dark-red eyes. …Well he couldn't see the eyes right now; the stranger's head was bowed. But they were there; he'd seen them often enough. He'd looked into them and thought he'd seen his own soul looking back, as they'd shared …As they'd shared…

"What did you want," he asked him, his voice thick with tears. "Why did you do it? Did you want to be Earl?"

"No," - Yuugi didn't even hear the interruption, but he saw the stranger's hand go up, and start to touch his arm. He pulled away.

"I wouldn't care," he went on, "because I don't want to be Earl. I never did. It was always Donald. Father liked him best, and he was the one raised for it. And now it's going to be… It's going to be…" In actual fact, it was going to be one of the Devlin cousins, wasn't it? They lived near Glasgow, and there were hundreds of them. Just trying to keep track of all of them was tangling and tiresome. And trying to figure out who would inherit if he were gone as well as Donald? His mind only touched on the question, then it hit him again why he was asking it.

"My brother is dead," he said. "And you, you wanted to profit by it …You were going to take his place. – I don't even know your name!"

"It's Yami." The stranger's head was still bowed, his voice so low that Yuugi could barely hear him. "And I never wanted to be Earl," he said softly. "Don't believe that of me at least, Yuugi. We just wanted …Pegasus said…"

"It was the Emerald, wasn't it?" Everything fit together now: That was why "Donald" showed up right when he did, why he kept saying he was only home for a short time. "You knew my brother was dead, but you didn't care, did you? You and" – He spat the word. – "Pegasus."

"That's the Colonel, right? Which of you thought of the idea, Yami? Which one of you was it that found out my brother was dead, and decided you'd use that as an excuse to steal from my family?" They stood face-to-face in the cold garden, with the December wind blowing at them, across the stumps of pruned rosebushes and herbs, frostbitten down to the root. Yuugi stared at the foreigner, the faker, who'd taken Donald's place. He'd shared his bed with him, his whole life, but what had Yamishared in return?

"You let me think we were committing incest." Just saying the word disgusted him. – And it wasn't even as bad as his brother being dead, was it? – The thought of their nights together disgusted him. "Téa was right, you do deserve to be arrested. – Thrown out. I hope you rot in prison, Yami, like my brother's r… like Donald…" That was all he could say, as tears choked his voice again.

"What do you want me to say, Yuugi? I've never had done this before." -

"You've never done what?" Yuugi said. "Been a conman?"

"No." The stranger, no, Yami, shook his head. "I won't lie. I've been on the con ever since Pegasus picked me up on the streets of London when I was eight, and taught me how. It's what I do. – All I know how to do. But I never fell in love with a mark before. And I love you, Yuugi. That part is true. I think I fell in love with you that first time we had tea together," – He smiled, a sad, reminiscent smile. – "when we shared the fairy cakes."

"You lie." Yuugi didn't like to think of himself as the kind of person with a lot of cynicism, but he did have some in him. Oh, he had it when he needed it, all right! "That's a pretty nice story to tell someone to keep them from turning you into the police," he said, and he sounded almost as skeptical as Téa. "You just want me to keep your secret."

"I don't!"

"No, Yuugi, I can assure you." The dry voice came from behind him, a few feet up the path toward the house. A few more steps – Yuugi heard the crackle of the leaves under his feet. – and there was the Colonel (or the imposter who called himself "Colonel") in the summerhouse with them. Yuugi wondered how much of the conversation he'd heard. "I assure you," the Colonel – Pegasus– said again. "My partner does truly love you. You should be flattered," he said. "Yami's been made love to by the best in all of Europe. I can't imagine why he chose you."

He turned a look toward Yami, his lazy smile replaced all at once by steely glitter. "You told," he added, his voice sharp. "Is this how you keep an agreement?"

"He found out." Yami sounded defeated, hopeless; angry as he was at him, Yuugi felt a tug of his heart at the sound. "Donald's death certificate arrived."

There was a long silence.

"I suppose you won't want me to express my condolences?" Pegasus said dryly.

"I don't want anything," Yuugi said. "From either of you. You're liars and cheats. You talked your way into my family under false pretenses, so you could steal from us. Why should I believe anything" -

"Listen, you little fool," – Yuugi's outrage surged at Pegasus' angry tone, - How dare he talk to him like that, after all he'd done to him, to the family? – but he listened. He was used to obeying adults. – "You believe whatever you damn well want about me," Pegasus said. "I came here with one thought in mind, you're right about that. I wanted the Lochmaben Emerald. And why the hell shouldn't I have it? It's not like your family uses it much. How often do you bring it out? Once a generation? To make some portrait that would look better without that big blob of green shoved onto a tartan wherever it looks ugliest? Your father won't even let your mother re-set it so it might see the light of day once in twenty years. - Oh, you believe whatever you want about me, little Yuugi, and it'll be true, all of it."

"But Yami does love you. I know it, because… Oh Christ," he cried. "Why the hell am I wasting my breath. You've already decided, haven't you? Any moment you're going to waltz off and tell Mummy and Daddy everything, like the milk-fed little mooncalf you are." –

"Pegasus!" Surprisingly, the interruption came from Yami. He took a step forward, his arms going around Yuugi's shoulders as if to protect him. And, surprisingly, Yuugi let them stay …and they felt good. "Don't talk that way about Yuugi. Can you blame him?"

"I told you," – Pegasus almost spat the words. – "I said if you gave yourself up to the boy, this was what would happen. – Didn't I, Yami? Didn't I? – I said, 'you tell your identity to the boy, and he'll have the constables here in an hour, to haul us off to the nearest gaol.' But you insisted. You said you trustedhim."

"I do trust Yuugi." Yami's arms were still around his shoulders. Yuugi didn't understand why he let them stay there, but he did. "And if he hauls us off to gaol, we deserve it, and you know it, Pegasus. We are what he says. Every word is true. We're liars, and cheats. We came here under false pretenses, and we were going to steal from his family. I should have known I was aiming too high," he said. "A street rat like me doesn't deserve the love of someone like you, Yuugi. You're everything I'm not. You're sweet, you're good, you're trusting…"

"And you're missing the point, as usual, with all your hearts and flowers and moonshine." Pegasus was calm, his voice even and strong. "We've been found out, Yami. The question is, is your little boyfriend going to give us time for a getaway, or is he going to run straightaway to Mummy and Daddy and tell all?"

"What is he talking about, Yami?" Yuugi asked. The strange name rolled faster over his lips than he would have imagined. He still didn't push the other's arms away; it was cold, he felt cold, and this gesture of protection felt good.

"I'll go with him." Yami met Pegasus' gaze, but his voice wavered a little. "We've told too many lies to this family already. We can't keep it a secret that Donald is dead. Only please, Yuugi," – He looked down as he spoke, and Yuugi saw the urgency in his dark-red eyes. – "Can't we give Pegasus time to get away first? Just..." He looked up. "How much do you need, Pegasus? An hour? More?"

"When's the next train?" Pegasus asked dryly.

"The next train to London isn't until morning." Yuugi's response was automatic, the mundane details of railway schedules saving him thinking about anything more painful, more confusing. "There's a local that leaves at six," he said.

"Oh goody, a local." Pegasus gave a deep sigh. "Well, it seems I must choose between serving time behind bars, and rattling south all night, through every town and borough in Northern England in a chicken coop on rails. That hardly seems a choice a gentleman should have to make. And I am a gentleman, little Yuugi," he said, "and so is Yami. Although there was a time," – He smiled, and Yuugi thought he saw sadness in his smile, as well as humor. – "But I won't bore you with ancient history."

"I'm telling my parents." Yuugi's emotions confused him. The anger was still there, but there were other feelings as well now. It was the right thing to do, to tell his parents, wasn't it? Because whatever else these men were, they were criminals. And Mother and Father deserved to hear the news of Donald's death. "Now." There was a wrenching feeling in his throat at the thought of letting go of Yami, but he swallowed it down. This was the right thing to do.

"I'm going with you," Yami said.

And, surprisingly, Pegasus spoke up as well. "Oh Christ, what's a man to do?" he said. "I am a veritable lemming, a conformist of the deepest dye. I suppose if you jumped off a cliff, I'd have to do that as well. In short, I'm going too. I can't leave you to face that alone, Yami."

"You?" Yuugi gaped like a fish.

Pegasus just nodded, all his fancy words deserting him apparently, at the thought of what was to come. "How bad can prison be?" he said, sounding unconvinced. However he in no hurry to go indoors, and in the end it was Yami, with both arms still around Yuugi, who led the way out of the garden and up the walk to the house.