Author's Note: Well, I guess every 2/3 days has become the rule rather than the exception. I'm having a ball writing this fic, and I hope that comes through in the writing. Here's where we get some alone time for Ishizu and Seto. Buttons will be pushed. Morals will be tested. And Ishizu's plan wil morph and change form...

As always, please read/review/fave/follow!

Enjoy!

What in blazes is going on…?

Ishizu pouted crossly, still keeping her eyes closed at Seto's request.

What can the bastard possibly be so excited about-

His knocking on the door that morning-at precisely seven o'clock, of course-had been louder. More erratic. Furious, almost-as if he couldn't wait for her to open the door-

Seto Kaiba had felt rather magnanimous upon his return from Tokyo.

Idly wondering how she was doing on the plane ride there-

Thinking indecently about her as he tried to sleep-her form, clothes pooled around her feet-those eyes-her lips-her…

… well…

Then, on the plane ride home, actively wondering what he could do-

-perhaps-

-to get another glimpse of that wondrous glowing smile. That rare starlight in her eyes, the dewy glow of her face, the joy he'd seen-

The light that merely seeing him seemed to extinguish.

At his insistent knock, Ishizu had yawned, face crinkling, rolling out of the bed, smoothing her nightgown around her hips as she'd approached the door; instead of Seto with a tray, she saw-

Seto-and Mokuba-

-the latter with round, shining eyes-as if he was holding onto a perfectly wonderful secret that was threatening to make him burst-

"Now, Miss Ishtar-" Seto's voice, normally so arrogant and lazily superior, had a slightly rougher cadence-as if he were breathless- "I'm going to need you to close your eyes and not open them until I say so. Mokuba here will help you follow me to our destination and make sure you don't fall over. All right?"

Ishizu squinted up at him questioningly, fighting another yawn from splitting her face in two, covering her mouth with her hand. Am I still asleep…?

-to be honest, I would be perfectly fine if this were a strange dream-to have those again-

A brief look of annoyance flitted across Seto's face as he studied her. Her face, eyes still heavy with sleep-her slightly frizzy hair, spilling around her shoulders-her neck-

-dammit-

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the threshold, looking and not looking at one another. Gazes flickering. Avoiding contact.

Ishizu suddenly feeling slightly dizzy-from the exertion, that is. No other reason-

"Ishizu-" Mokuba piped up, extending his arms and taking her hands in his. "Just hold onto me, okay? I won't let Seto over here bother you-besides, I think you're really gonna like what we have to show you!" He squeezed her hands excitedly, eyes boring into hers with a nearly frightening fervor.

What the devil-?

Ishizu bit back a tiny groan of resignation, perking up her features into something pleasant and conciliatory as she closed her eyes. "All right, Mokuba-I trust you-"

She couldn't help but emphasize the "you" slightly-if only under her breath, where only the most careful of listeners would be able to hear the bitterness woven into her tone.

Seto heard.

Abruptly feeling cold soak through him as he turned on his heel and began to walk down the corridor. "Nn."

Mokuba following backwards, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't going to trip or walk into a wall, leading Ishizu gently by the hands, she with her eyes dutifully closed.

Around the corner-down a flight of stairs-right turn-down a hallway-down another flight of stairs-the endless transitions from thick, plushy ankle-deep carpet to smooth, hard wood and then back again-

-Ishizu nearly feeling nauseated at all the unsteady twists and turns-

Then Mokuba stopped. The air was slightly cooler around her, making her remember how improperly and impractical she was, standing in some unknown room in Seto Kaiba's home in her nightgown-

"All right, Miss Ishtar-" she heard Seto's voice from far away-across the room, perhaps- "keep your eyes closed for a few more moments, if you would."

She briefly considered peeking as she heard his footsteps grow slightly quieter, somewhere in front of her-

Maybe if I just open them a slit-pretend I'm yawning-

"Hey-Ishizu, I saw that!" came Mokuba's faux-disapproving voice as he squeezed her hands tightly from where he stood before her; his eagle eyes had been intermittently scanning her features ever since he and Seto had led her from her room to where they were now, and he'd seen her open her mouth just then-her eyelashes' flutter-

Blast. "S-saw what, Mokuba?" She could tell he was smiling; she fought the urge to snap her eyes open-to lean forward and ruffle her hand through his messy hair-like a sister-

Mokuba snorted. "Yeah, right-uh huh, Ishizu, nice try. You're dealing with the Kaiba brothers here, remember? You're never gonna pull the wool over our eyes-"

Ishizu pressed her lips together in minute satisfaction as she felt Seto staring at her from where he stood behind Mokuba-nearly clear across the room-even as her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that she was starting to feel a faint headache coming on between her eyebrows-

-I would call that assertion into question, Mokuba-

Then-

-she felt Seto's lips by her ear. His voice low. Husky. Proud. "All right, Miss Ishtar-you can open your eyes now."

Ishizu swallowed hard at his words, feeling slightly off-balance-faint, even-at his sudden closeness.

A flutter.

-no-

-do not think of this now-

-as she slowly opened her eyes, allowing the glassiness that had formed in a film to clear away, she saw-

-soft lighting, dim but focused-

-white and wood pedestals with dark and light objects on top of them-littering the room before her-sculptures…

-then, on the back wall of the room-

A series of paintings in a wide variety of colors and sizes-

Ishizu withdrew her hands from Mokuba's, trying to keep the unsteadiness, the utter shock currently crawling through her from emerging into her voice-from spilling from her lips uselessly-

"I-I don't understand…" She turned her head to look at Seto, who had crossed his arms and was watching her. Eyes bright. Intent.

-almost warm-

-then wide-confused at her apparent confusion-

He raised a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck, a tiny nervous quirk of his lips as he fought to keep his voice smooth. Controlled. Characteristic. Mustn't let Mokuba suspect anything-let alone her-

"Ah… well-you see, Ishizu-I-I remember you talking about your curatorial studies to my work associates on our nights out-and-well, I thought you might like to see my private art collection-such that it is… I mean, it's hardly much, but…"

He trailed off as Ishizu walked towards one of the pedestals as if in a daze, her eyes narrowing to take in the foot-tall clay form, to inspect its surface, trained eyes soaking up every detail…

Two people locked in an embrace… arms wrapped around one another… becoming one through the medium-fluidity-unity…

"I-is this…" Ishizu chewed on her lower lip, a flash of recognition glittering in her eyes as a hint of awe appeared on her features-a slight glowing blooming on her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, flickering her eyes to Seto.

He smirked, trying to ignore that strange weakening of his chest as he saw it-something like it, anyway-that look. On her face. "Yes, Miss Ishtar, it is a Rodin. One of the models for The Kiss, I believe."

Perhaps that was not the most prudent choice of artworks-

He licked his lips nervously.

Despite herself-despite everything-she smiled. At him. Eyes beaming, a dimple in one cheek making itself known to him.

It was like seeing the sun.

This is what she truly loves-

Then it was gone; Seto wasn't sure if he'd seen it or merely imagined it as Ishizu turned away from him to look at the paintings hanging on the wall.

One large canvas right before her, a hazy purple form hovering above a deep blue ground. Like clouds in the midnight sky. Like a dream. "Ah… I love Rothko…" She licked her lips, voice coming out slightly cracked with disbelief. Wonder. He has good taste-I'll give him that-

Seto watched her there for a moment, the unfathomable woman in her nightgown, she lifting up her fingers before her, gently moving them as if trying to trace the painter's brushstrokes… to learn… to understand…

He cleared his throat. "Mokuba, you may leave now."

I have to ask her-just so I know-

Ishizu, who had turned around once more to face a delicate Calder stabile on another pedestal, the wire limbs moving in the breeze created by her gentle breathing, froze. Oh-?

What can he possibly want with me-

-alone-?

She lowered her gaze to her bare feet, pretending she hadn't heard.

The younger Kaiba, who had been watching Ishizu with large eyes, his hands clasped behind his back, turned to face his brother and groaned. "Ugh, Seto… come on…"

"Mokuba, I have some private matters to discuss with Miss Ishtar." He flicked his eyes to meet his brother's questioning gaze, the blue chilly and resolute as Mokuba rolled his eyes and shrugged, turning on his heel, his shiny blue sneakers squeaking unpleasantly against the wooden floor, before leaving.

Private… matters?

… why did that sound so-

She clenched her hands into fists behind her back, the abrupt flash of pain bringing her to her senses.

"Miss Ishtar?"

It's only because of the damned Rodin sculpture-

Honey.

Vinegar.

Remember-

"Seto?" she responded innocently, beginning to walk towards him, studying how his expression shifted, almost imperceptibly, as she approached him. Swallowing an inward smile as his cheeks pinked, his breath hitched as she came to stand before him, hands now clasped before her.

He licked his lips once more. Regretted the strange thickness of his voice as he tried to summon his husky, arrogant drawl. The one that indicated his awareness of his excellence. His superiority. His control of any given situation-

-tentative though it may be-

"Miss Ishtar, I was wondering if you'd like to dine with me tonight."

Another blasted work function? At least he's asking nicely…

"Another dinner with a colleague, Seto?" Careful. Supplicant.

Seto coughed suddenly-humiliatingly-moving the back of his hand to cover his mouth in an elegant gesture. His throat felt incredibly dry as he cleared it once, then again.

"Ah-no, Miss Ishtar. I happen to have a free night this evening and… well-I was-I'm asking you, Miss Ishtar, if you'd like to have dinner with me-just me."

The question hung in the air, collecting dust motes as Ishizu's pulse roared to stuttering life.

Can it really be that simple?

-he's playing right into my hands-

She allowed her lips to curve into a serene smile, lowering her eyes to her feet as if she were embarrassed. Flattered by his asking. Bit her bottom lip for effect as she slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. "Seto-"

Without meaning to, he cut her off. "I-I know you probably can't, but-but I'd like you to start thinking of yourself as my guest here…"

How disgustingly fresh of him-

"B-but you won't let me go?" Ishizu threaded a wobble into her voice, cocking her head to one side delicately, allowing the strap of her nightgown to fall, almost carelessly, off her shoulder. Exposing flesh.

Seto noticed. His voice coming out harsher than he meant it to, trying to overcompensate for the sudden tremor that rippled through his body. "No."

-then the bastard deserves what is coming to him-

"I see." She dropped her gaze to her bare feet once more, then looked slightly forward at Seto's shiny black shoes, the laces done up perfectly. She could almost see her reflection in the toes.

Perhaps if I-

She lifted her head quickly, a slight catch in her voice as she asked, "Seto-if I may ask-if I have dinner with you tonight, do you-do you think it would be possible for me to call my brothers?" After all, he's here, isn't he? He can listen on the damned extension for all I care…

She thinks of dinner as an obligation. Seto honestly couldn't say he was surprised at the way she was bartering-something he wanted for something she wanted-adept of her, that-

"Of course," he replied smoothly, studying her face for something-a hint of that look he could have sworn he'd seen…

Then, thinking quickly:

"Actually, you can speak to them now. Follow me."

I-I can?

Ishizu inhaled sharply, trying to fight the sudden wetness that had decided to bubble, sentimentally and utterly inappropriately, behind her eyes, as Seto turned and began to take long strides out of the room, she trailing after him as if in a daze.

He led her up a set of stairs she didn't recognize-though, of course, that did not necessarily mean she hadn't used it before-leading her into one of the many perfectly appointed sitting rooms in Kaiba Manor, this one with an accompanying antechamber.

Ishizu spotted it-a telephone, lying on the coffee table-her heart nearly coming to a stop as she sat down on the couch in front of the table, fingers in her lap itching to reach out and grab it. To pluck the handset off the receiver and, perhaps, chuck it at Seto's head…

Well, I can dream, can't I-?

"Now, you can use this phone here; I'll be in the antechamber listening in on the phone in here, all right?" I can't risk her making any trouble for me-

-the mindset of the prisoner. Being grateful for a modicum of humanity. Accepting it like a gift. Remember-

Ishizu nodded, face eager, as Seto smoothed his hands along the front of his impeccable black suit jacket and made his way into the small side room.

Ishizu waited a moment, making sure his footsteps had faded-giving her at least the illusion of privacy-before lifting the handset off the base and dialing the Ishtar family apartment's home line.

The phone rang with an incessant prrring, jolting Marik Ishtar awake from the fitful sleep he'd managed to pluck from the depths of endless worry-stomach pains-anxiety, ever since that asshole Seto Kaiba had taken his sister-all because of me, all because of me-

Hopping out of bed, shoving his glasses onto his nose, he half-ran, half-slid out of his room and into the kitchen, where the old phone, with its endless curly cord, was ringing so damned loudly.

Who could be calling at this obscene hour? It's barely eight-thirty…

He had half a mind to tell off whoever was on the line as he picked it up, his voice a petulant grumble. "Ishtar residence, Marik speaking-"

Ishizu gasped at the sound of her brother's voice, coming in so clearly, through the handset. "M-Marik, it's me-"

Marik's heart came to a painful thud as tears welled up in his eyes, a single droplet snaking down by his nose as he choked out, "Sister-oh, gods, it's so good to hear your voice-" After so long-ten days-it's been an eternity-

She felt herself sniffle slightly as she laughed, voice nearly bursting at the seams as she replied, "Oh, Marik-I'm so happy to hear yours, too…" In this frighteningly silent, vast house…

Marik's voice grew rough. "Is-is that asshole-that sick bastard-is he-has he-I swear on Ra's name, Ishizu-if that creep has done anything to you-"

Seto bit back a caustic remark from where he was listening in, handset pressed against his ear, breathing softly and quietly so as to not alert Marik to his presence-that idiotic excuse for a human being-I cannot even believe they are related-

-anyway-I've been called worse-

Ishizu just laughed, a tinge of acid creeping into her voice. "No, Marik-believe me, I'm fine-he's just been wining and dining me every night…"

Marik sniffed loudly as another tear ran down his heated cheek, pushing his glasses up his nose as he sputtered, "Wh-what? What kind of kidnapper t-takes his hostage out for d-dinner?"

Ishizu smiled sardonically to herself. "Haven't you seen, Brother? I'm all over the Domino papers and tabloids as Seto Kaiba's lady love…" And don't we just make the loveliest pair?

"That son of a-"

Seto had to pull the phone away from his ear as Marik released a loud torrent of incredibly foul epithets, all directed at him. Elaborate insults, those… I hadn't heard that one before-

Ishizu giggled despite herself, hand fluttering up to cover her mouth. "Marik-calm down. It's just for the public-I promise. He hasn't so much as tried anything improper."

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankle. "Though, I wouldn't do that again, Marik, considering he's listening in on this call right now…"

Seto stiffened, his spine like an iron rod. That was not part of the bargain-

Marik paused for a moment as his glasses slid off his face and clattered to the floor, his face soaked with tears. "He is? That bastard is listening in right now? Then how do I know he's not got you ch-chained up in some b-basement somewhere?" I have half a mind to walk up to Kaiba Manor and challenge him to a freakin' fistfight-

Ishizu layered velvet into her voice. Comforting. Sisterly. "Marik-trust me, when I come home you'll see-the people here have been perfectly kind to me-I'm certainly eating better than I do when I'm at school-"

Then there is the whole fact of my planning to kill Seto-

-that's rather a nice cherry on top-

"Is Odion there?"

Marik shook his head, briefly forgetting himself, then spoke up. "No-he's not. He's g-going to be so upset when he f-finds out you called…" He'll never forgive himself for missing it-

The alarm clock in his room down the hall began to beep loudly and annoyingly, announcing its presence with near-dramatic flair.

Damn-

"Ishizu-I-I would love to stay and talk all day-and I can't believe I'm doing this but-but I have to g-go open up the shop-" He pawed at the tears streaming down his face uselessly, almost violently. "I-is this, like, your one phone call-or will I get to talk to you again?"

Ishizu stood up from the couch and walked around the furniture towards the antechamber until she was face to face with Seto, face impassive, holding the phone against his ear.

"I don't know, Seto-will I?" she asked, a hint of steel in her voice as she looked up at him.

Seto's voice, too loud in the receiver, made Marik feel sick to his stomach. "Ishtar-you'll be able to speak with her again. She'll be able to call you whenever she wishes-provided, of course, that I am there to monitor the call. Understand?"

Marik's blood boiled beneath his skin, his breath coming in overlapping shudders. "You-you better not do anything to hurt her-or-or else I'm-"

Or else you'll what-? Seto bit back the mocking comment, Ishizu's blazing eyes like a warning as he cleared his throat, wanting to loosen his tie, his windpipe suddenly feeling tight- "Ishtar, I made you that promise. And, if it will make you happy, I will repeat-I will not touch your sister." Despite what he may think-

What she may think-

I'm not a monster.

I'm not-

Ishizu's features smoothed over as she spoke once more into her handset. "Marik-go on and open up the shop. Keep the business going-all right? I promise I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"

Marik gulped in lungful after lungful of air. "Ishizu-if you don't-if that asshole doesn't let you-"

Ishizu cut him off, voice imbued with an air of finality. "He will. Right?" She held Seto's gaze in her thrall; he could only nod slowly, trying to keep himself composed.

"I promise, Ishtar. She will call you tomorrow."

So very like Mokuba-

-dammit-

Ishizu bowed her head towards him, expression unreadable as she turned around and walked back into the sitting room, feeling Seto's eyes boring into her back. "Marik-I-I love you, all right-that's-that's why-"

That's why I'm here instead of you.

Her brother's voice was tinny, crackling through the phone line, almost overcome with emotion. "I know, Sister-I love you too. So much."

That's why Seto Kaiba will die at my hands.

"Give Odion my love, all right?"

She lifted the handset from her ear and ended the call. Sat still for a moment, feeling something unsettling and anxious twisting frantically inside her. Struggling. Wanting out. Her lips. Her throat to give it voice. A cry. My brothers-

-I hope they'll be all right-

She heard Seto hang up his handset; his footsteps growing louder as he approached her seated form on the couch. Almost tentatively. She, staring at her hands. Folded in her lap. Ankles crossed.

Calm. Placid. Controlled-

-smile-

She lifted her head slowly as Seto began to speak, voice low. "Miss Ishtar-"

"Thank you for letting me speak to my brother. I would be happy to have dinner with you tonight, Seto." That sweetness permeating her voice. Like a switch-on, off, on-an endless flickering. All somehow comprising her.

She didn't even understand herself sometimes.

Lacing a hint of something into her tone as she continued, lowering her eyelids as if they were heavy with sleep, pressing her lips together before parting them once more, "I look forward to it."

Seto's eyes traveled from her eyes-those eyes-to her mouth, skimming along her neck and fixating briefly on that aberrant nightgown strap. Hanging off her shoulder still. As if-

-as if it needs to be replaced back onto her shoulder-

-or tugged down-

-fully.

-I'll be damned-

He swallowed hard, those thoughts getting the better of him-rifling through his rational mind, tearing it into fraying ribbons.

Ishizu grinned inwardly as she studied the movement of his gaze. Along her body. Ripe. Lush. Promising untold things beneath the simple white fabric.

Even though he'd seen her without before-

-exposed-

-it was evidently not enough. Never enough for him.

"I'll see you at seven o'clock, Seto."

I will see to it that you break your promise to my brother-

-as if you were anything but easy in the first place, Seto Kaiba.

And then-

-the flutter-

Rap-rap-rap-

"Ishizu?" Yugi's voice, cheerful and pleased as ever, coming from behind the closed door.

What is he be doing here?

"One moment-" Ishizu fumbled with the buttons of the gown she'd chosen for dinner-a simple peach knee-length confection Yugi had whipped up for her sometime during the previous week. The silky fabric not too shiny, just the right amount of opacity, with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline that revealed just a hint of cleavage. Innocence in a dress. Unconscious allure. Exactly what she needed.

Tonight.

Tonight I'll do it, by all the gods-

Her fingers slipped again.

Blast-

"You can come in, Yugi-" she held the dress closed with one hand as she turned to face the spiky-haired man, makeup bag in hand, whose face lit up when he saw her.

"I'm here to help you get ready-ah, Ishizu-an excellent choice, that…"

How-

"So you know, then?" Ishizu sighed heavily, wearily. Of course-

Yugi shrugged in response, scratching the back of his neck idly. "It's a small staff. Voices carry. People hear things… people tell people things…"

Ishizu smiled weakly. I see... "Well, I would be more ready-if only I could get these buttons to fasten…"

Yugi beamed, eyes wise and knowing, as he reached out his arms and began to do up the endless line of tiny buttons along Ishizu's side.

As his nimble fingers worked, she couldn't help but tease:

"So… Téa Gardner, huh?"

Yugi's blush was almost luminescent as it crawled patchily lalong his skin. "I-I certainly don't know what you mean, Ishizu… Téa-I mean, Miss Gardner and I are merely just good friends. After all, we've both been working for Mr. Kaiba a fair amount of time…"

There it is again. That stumble over her name-

Ishizu resisted sticking her tongue out at him as he secured the last button into place. "All right, Yugi, say what you like…"

As Yugi took her hand to lead her to the bathroom, she piped up, voice faux-thoughtful, "although, for someone who's merely her friend, you sure do stare at her like a drooling schoolboy…"

"All right, Ishizu. You're ready."

Ishizu opened her eyes to find-for once-someone she recognized.

Only… more so. Her cheeks slightly more pink. Eyes slightly more emphasized with thin black eyeliner. A nude pencil applied to her lips in lieu of red lipstick. Hair styled simply, falling in thick locks around her shoulders.

Through the partially-closed bathroom door they both heard it-

Rap-rap-rap-

Seto's knocking-

Ishizu couldn't ignore a small shudder as it danced wickedly down her spine.

-the flutter-

Tonight.

As she turned to leave the bathroom, to slip on her black low heels and open the door, Yugi studied her face carefully. Reached out and took her chin in his hands, turning her head to face him, nearly touching his forehead to hers. His eyes gravely serious.

"Ishizu."

It startled her to see such dark emotions in that normally bright, sparkling violet gaze.

"I trust my employer, Ishizu. And I know the kind of man he is. But-if you feel-if he does anything to hurt you, anything at all…"

Ishizu gave a start as she recalled what Téa had told her just two days prior:

"-if he were to so much as touch you he'd have a riot on his hands…"

Then Solomon's similar words-confirmation delivered in his hearty, gruff voice:

"But I will have you know, Miss Ishtar-if Mr. Kaiba so much as touches you-there will be a problem amongst us household staff. And we will not let it go. Understand?"

She knew then-realization jolting through her-that she was looking at the ringleader.

Ishizu pressed her lips together, feeling a bloom of color rush into her cheeks-

Thank you.

Understanding, Yugi let go of her chin, patting her on the cheek softly-almost like a brother. Straightening up, willing her pulse to steady, Ishizu looked at herself in the mirror once more, glad to see someone she knew on the other side, and crossed the threshold into the bedroom.

"I-I just realized, Seto… I've been here for-well-more than a week now, and there's so little I know about you…" Ishizu lifted her eyes from her plate of fragrant, thinly sliced skirt steak, a hearty helping of vegetables taking up half the space on the square porcelain, and laid down her knife and fork, placing her elbows on the table, propping up her chin in her hands; she lifted her eyes to face the man sitting across from her at the small square table, his knees nearly knocking against hers underneath the smooth dark wood.

Seto swallowed the small bite of asparagus and laid down his knife and flicked his eyes up to her-

-where he'd tried not to look as soon as he'd seen her in the doorway. Looking up at him. Blooming. Cheeks pink. Hair flowing around her face. A vision. All soft-looking skin and collarbones framing that perfect neck-

He'd uncharacteristically found himself at a loss for words. Dry-mouthed. Like some amateur, hands shaking in his pockets as she'd given him a seraphic smile. Eyes half-lidded. Seeming to see right through him.

And he'd been silent throughout the soup and salad courses, her leg pressing against his under the table wrecking his fragmented concentration. Not daring to say anything, not attempting to make conversation, however light, however tangential to anything-what if she thinks I'm an idiot?

Although I don't suppose that's my main problem right now-

"Ah-well. There's not really that much to know about me, Miss Ishtar. As you well know by now, I'm the CEO of the Kaiba Corporation, where I design high-grade military weapons for various clients and world governments. I don't suppose you'd find that interesting…"

Everything I say is utterly asinine-

Ishizu licked her lips quickly, taking a sip of wine from the glass by her plate-her first. Her only, if Seto had anything to say about it…

"I see." She looked back at him and smiled almost beguilingly. "I mean, Seto… is it interesting?"

Come on, you fool, give me something to work with-

Seto speared a piece of steak into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, finding it increasingly difficult to meet her gaze.

"It's fairly intellectually stimulating, though hardly taxing…" Creating the right heat-seeking capabilities for the newest brand of missile… the armored tanks that still had to be light enough to move at a fairly fast clip… not exactly exciting, but work is work.

This line of questioning is getting me nowhere. "Well-hmm…. Where did you grow up, Seto?"

Seto bristled subtly, his mouth pulling into a scowl. "I'd rather not discuss my childhood, Miss Ishtar. Is that understood?" Of all the things to discuss at dinner-

-of course, she'd have no way of knowing-

Ishizu fought back a pout, the mixture of emotions playing across her features nonetheless attractive. She lowered her eyes back to her plate, cut herself a piece of steak, and placed it between her lips. Chewing and swallowing with gusto. Licking her lips after she was done.

Him staring at her all the while.

He was putty.

"Well then-what about your hobbies-the things you like to do with your free time?"

Seto almost smiled, eyes growing bright. "I don't have much time for hobbies, Miss Ishtar-though, up until a few years ago, I was a world champion of Duel Monsters…"

That game again-

"You were?" Ishizu inquired, somewhat intrigued by another mention of this mysterious card game. She took another sip of wine. "What was that like?"

To be a world champion of something-to have everyone in your field know your name and think of you with awe-

It must be intoxicating.

"It was very important to me when I was younger-when I was more rash and hot-blooded. Didn't quite know how to act. Didn't know how to dress, either…" Seto let out a wry chuckle, remembering the flamboyant trenchcoats at the back of his closet.

Seto Kaiba not knowing how to act-gods, that'd be a sight to see, considering his nature does not seem much improved-

"Why did you stop?"

Seto took a drink from his glass. His voice suddenly much colder. Flat. Blunt. "Because Duel Monsters is a game, Miss Ishtar. However important it may have been to me growing up-it's a mere game-for children, I might add. I had to take being the CEO of this company more seriously." All items of childhood must become relics eventually-

Ishizu cocked her head to the side and frowned for a moment. "I see." She speared a bite of potato onto the tines of her fork.

"You know," she began, a lightness creeping into her voice, "when I spent time with Joey and Tristan on the day you left, they mentioned that Pegasus is the creator of the game-of Duel Monsters?"

"Of course," Seto replied smoothly. "He created the game-designed all of the cards himself, everything." That white-haired fool's one contribution to society…

"I still can't believe it-me, having met the man behind the most popular game in Domino City?" Lacing a brush of awe into her voice. Eyes flicking downwards to her plate. Modest.

Seto smirked. "And rubbing shoulders with titans of industry-dining with the former world champion of Duel Monsters-doesn't awe you in the same way, Miss Ishtar?"

Ishizu returned his smirk, eyes flicking back to him, dropping to his lips. "No, Seto Kaiba-I guess it just doesn't have the same effect on me…" She adjusted herself in her seat slightly, revelling in the minute changes in his facial expression as she rubbed her knee against his-gently, as if on accident.

She couldn't have possibly meant to do that-

She could practically see the hairs stand up on the back of his neck…

"Anyway, I don't know how to play the game-I never really had the opportunity to learn, I guess…"

To her surprise, Seto's voice was almost breathy. Low. Throaty. A hint of pride. "Well then, Miss Ishtar, I do hope you'll permit the former world champion to show you how it's done…"

Trying to summon the Seto Kaiba who did not quaver in a woman's presence-

Ishizu took another sip of wine, her eyes never leaving his face.

"I look forward to it, Seto."

Seto coughed, most uncomfortably, and loosened his tie. Reached for his glass. Took a rather large drink of wine. Her damned voice-

-that insistent, delicate melody-

Ishizu almost smiled to herself as she took a bite of potato.

Seto gulped quietly, wetting his lips before speaking. "Well, what about you, Miss Ishtar-I mean, suffice it to say that you and I are relative strangers to one another-what ought I to know about you?"

Ishizu laid down her knife and fork. Pretending to ponder. "Hmm. I mean, you saw my reaction to your wonderful gift this morning, Seto-I'm a bit of an art nerd…" Though the gesture was surprisingly kind of him-

Seto thought of her spellbound-spellbinding-expression as she'd looked at his small but rather fine art collection-after all, money earning money all on its own had gotten rather dull several years back-

-that flash of joy-of something like happiness in her eyes.

"I probably could have deduced that myself, Miss Ishtar…" He lifted his knife and fork and began to cut into his steak. Trying for an almost teasing tone-to reassert himself. He was in control here-not this woman, however bewitching, with that unconscious, dangerous hold she seemed to have over him-

Ishizu laughed, dropping her eyes back to her plate demurely. "Well-perhaps. It doesn't seem as though much escapes you, Seto…" Ha. If only he knew-

"I like to keep things that way, Miss Ishtar." He chewed and swallowed. "I mean-art is not exactly my forte-how does one become interested in that sort of thing?"

She couldn't stop a real grin from slipping across her features as she replied. "Well-I'm sure it will bore you. It's not the most interesting story…" She stabbed at a piece of asparagus and popped it into her mouth. "I mean, as you're well aware of by now, my family does a little dabbling in the antiquities industry…" She swallowed back the bile that threatened to engulf her throat-I mustn't forget why I'm here, after all-as Seto crossed his legs again, bumping her knee in the process.

That flutter. Again-I-

As Seto watched her intently, she hid a shudder and continued. "So while I always grew up surrounded by ancient art and artifacts, my father encouraged me to explore other avenues of art-buying me books, taking me on travels to the States, bringing me to the museums of New York…" Her heart thudded painfully in her chest at the memory of her late father. So kind-so wonderful-

"And-well-I've loved it ever since. Just-the incredible passion that's so easily visible-the emotions-as if these long-gone artists are speaking to us, using a method that we can only hope to understand-or perhaps can understand, either instinctually on some level, or more clearly with a trained eye-" Ishizu found her voice picking up speed, her words beginning to stumble over one another, so she paused. Looked down at her plate. Cheeks a slight red.

Seto almost burst a vein at that adorable display.

Recovering quickly, he asked, "so you're in graduate school now for art history? At the Courtauld, I seem to remember?" His voice was a drawl-but with a hint of interest puckering around the edges. As if he were trying to hide how much he really wanted to know about her-

-was dying to know-

Ishizu nodded. "I didn't ever have much talent for it-not like Mokuba. By the way-your brother is tremendously gifted at painting-I almost mistook one of his paintings you have hanging up for a real Pollock…"

-it's rather too bad he won't get to pursue that career-

Seto smiled briefly at the thought of his brother-when he'd visited him last year, seeing Mokuba work in his studio, placing the drips and splashes of paint with a keen eye and controlled hand. Something that Seto, despite his intellect and facility for learning, would never quite understand.

"So yes, I was-am enrolled at the Courtauld. Of course, I still need to write my thesis, but luckily I've already completed my coursework."

Luckily I am not missing anything while I'm cooped up like this-

She gritted her teeth imperceptibly as she bit down on a piece of steak.

They sat there in silence, slicing up and finishing the rest of the food on their plates, the sound of occasional sipping punctuating the clatter of silver utensils.

Seto swallowed hard as he looked back up at her. Her placid manner. Softness. That gentleness about her-that way that she seemed to have no idea what she did to him-

-Did he dare ask?

What innocuous thing would she say to shatter his composure-?

He dared. "So… to borrow your terminology, Miss Ishtar-what sort of things-other than art, of course-what do you like?"

No. Not like that-why are my thoughts-why do they always-

He sucked in a cool breath as he awaited her answer, laying his knife and fork upon his empty plate so as to attempt to distract himself from the way she looked as she considered his question.

-dammit-

Ishizu took another sip from her glass, licking the traces of wine from her lips as Seto watched. Stared.

In any other situation, I'd have to say that this is most impolite-

She lowered her lids halfway, moving her elbows to the table and resting her chin in her hands. Voice with a coy edge to it. Just a hint of a hint.

"Well, Seto Kaiba-that's for me to know, isn't it?" And for you to find out…

Seto crossed his legs once more, almost seizing up as he felt her knee, radiating heat, nudge his, sending a thrill of chain reactions jittering throughout his body. I'm going to Hell, aren't I?

One of the serving girls that Ishizu recognized only cursorily entered the room and quietly took their plates away; Ishizu continued to look at Seto, her eyes shining and round. Lips pursed as if doing so almost subconsciously. Seto reeling with every breath he took, his eyes flitting around her-her arms-her hands-her neck-anywhere but those eyes of hers-

I must regain control of this situation, dammit-

Ishizu blinked heavily a few times, smiling to herself all the while.

-let's watch him squirm, shall we?

The serving girl returned to the dining room and folded her hands in front of her, looking expectantly at Seto.

He felt the girl's gaze on the back of his neck, turned in his seat to her. Voice coming out almost hoarse. "What?"

"Will you be wanting dessert first, or coffee, Mr. Kaiba?"

Seto thought for a moment. Dared. Felt himself being pulled in, moth-like, to a truly awful idea. Knowing that in all honesty, he ought to end the dinner right then-call it a night. Escort Ishizu back to her room. Watch her evening ritual like a shameless creep.

And yet-

-I am going to Hell. "We'll take both now. Outside. On the patio, if you don't mind."

"Right away, sir." And the girl turned on her heel and made her way back into the kitchen.

On the patio? How bold of him. Ishizu moved her hands to her lap and crossed her legs at the ankle. It is a rather nice night-

-wouldn't you say, Seto Kaiba?

Such an easy mark...

Seto rose from his chair in a fluid, graceful motion, smoothing his suit jacket, before walking around the table to stand by Ishizu's side. Reaching out an elegant hand to her. Solicitous.

-His other hand practically shaking all the while-

He quickly shoved it into his pants pocket as she looked up at him, eyes wide and beguiling, scooting her chair back and placing her hand in his.

She almost cursed aloud, risking her act-her control over herself-as she felt that heat-that flutter-

-again-

-I swear on all the gods, I must be going mad-

"I assume that you will, of course, be having dessert, Miss Ishtar-" His face was suddenly smug. Knowing. Well, I do know one thing she likes…

Ishizu feigned innocence, twisting her lips into a charming grin. "I don't know, Seto-is chocolate involved?" Ha- let him remember that-

As he escorted her out of the dining room, his hand moving to the small of her back, he couldn't resist pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, trying to ignore the whirling feeling of his every cell. "Of course, Miss Ishtar."

A fire burned, low and crackling, in a pit perpendicular to the rear façade of the house, creating a glow that struggled not to be swallowed up by the night sky. Two low couches, all with square, dark pillows, faced one another, separated by a glow glass table, upon which currently rested two generous slices of chocolate cake, along with two tiny cups of black coffee.

Seto guided Ishizu over to the display, his hand helplessly memorizing the feel of her, despite himself-as he prepared to take his seat on one of the couches, waiting for her to sit across from him, he nearly gasped aloud as she remained close to him-and sat right beside him. Her hips a hair's breadth from his. Her scent filling his nostrils.

Ishizu was glad for the dimness, shivering quietly as she felt his sharp intake of breath. In her spine. In her bones. Recovering rapidly, she leaned forward and picked up one of the plates of cake. Turned towards him-their faces only inches apart. Bit her lip. "Is this okay, Seto?"

As Seto could only nod slowly, as if in a daze, Ishizu cut off a piece of cake and placed it in her mouth, delighting in the reaction he gave-that almost dramatic bobbing of his Adam's apple-as she released that same pleased groan from somewhere deep within her chest.

You're too easy, Seto…

"This is excellent," she nearly purred, placing the plate back onto the table and twisting again to face him, leaning her head to one side, propping it up with her elbow on the back of the couch.

Seto released a labored breath between tense lips. "Ah-well, I had Solomon whip it up this afternoon. He seems to be quite fond of you, as does Yugi-really, you seem to have made several friends among my staff, Miss Ishtar…"

Ishizu giggled lightly, hiding a hint of bitterness in her tone. "Well, Seto-since I only just now was permitted to use the phone, I had to talk to somebody…" It just so happens that your staff are particularly susceptible to flattery and feigned interest-

Seto ducked his head in acknowledgement, reaching forward for his coffee cup and taking a sip. Remember how to breathe. In. Out. That hasn't changed because she's here now-

The embers of the fire flickered green and gold.

Ishizu mirrored him, leaning forward and taking her coffee cup in hand.

Tonight-

I just need to do this-

I just need this to work-

-for him to take me to bed-

-and then-

-while he sleeps-

She drained the small cup of coffee and placed the empty container back onto the table, swallowing the hot liquid down like a shot of courage.

Seto could only stare at her lips. All manner of awful, unethical ideas running through his head-

-I'm not a monster, dammit-

Ishizu turned her head to smile softly at him once more, lowering her hand to slip off her heels and curling up her legs under her skirt. The peach fabric wrinkling, dragging up her legs. Exposing part of her thighs.

"Thank you for dinner, Seto-I had a lovely time." Her voice was a thick, almost-whisper as she shifted slightly, making herself comfortable. Her dress riding up her legs even further. Carelessly. Her hair streaming around her shoulders. Eyes watching his face. Watching him watch her. Pushing down that sudden sparking need-

-that idea-

-of what she would do, were he to rest his hand upon her thigh. The soft palm. Subtly manicured nails rubbing against her skin. Digging in slightly. Possessive. Making it clear-then, slipping higher. Making it clearer-what he so evidently wanted-

-sliding further. Making it clearest-

"Th-thank you." His voice sounded labored and far away. His eyes wandering over her face. Her collarbone.

Now.

She took a deep breath and lifted her hand to his jacket, her voice coming out slightly husky. "Um-Seto-you have a leaf on your jacket-" and brushed a patch of nothingness off the front of his suit. Her hand lingering. Clutching the fine fabric idly.

Suddenly-

From deep within his chest, Seto uttered a groan. Send me to Hell. Caught her wrist in his hand, leading her breath to catch on itself. Intent, desperate gaze searing, burning her skin. Everywhere he looked. Heat. Radiating. Pouring into every crevice, every limb-

Shivering. The night and its promise enveloping them-

She leaned forward slightly, him moving in almost reflexively, automatically, to fill in the gap-

-felt breath-

-the lightest of touches on her lips-

-like an afterthought-

Then-

"No." His voice was strangled as he dropped her hand, moving his own to clasp across his lap tightly. The nails digging into his skin. Deep enough to cut. As well they should.

I cannot believe I almost-

Ishizu's jaw nearly dropped; she quickly pasted a neutral, slightly hurt expression on her face as Seto cut his eyes away from her. "You're clearly drunk." Voice flat. Almost pained. Disgust clawing its meandering, cruel way up his throat.

I could never look myself in the mirror if I had-

-couldn't forgive myself-

She quickly moved her hands away from him, slightly thrown off-guard-

-what-?

He cannot really think-

"Seto, I-I'm-"

She paused suddenly. Mind racing. Switching tactics, her body language becoming looser, more careening. Trying to ignore whatever useless stuttering afflicting her chest, reverberating throughout her body like an errant, irrepressible drum.

She covered her mouth as she faked a yawn, allowing herself to sag against him slightly. "I-I think I should go to bed now, Seto…"

Breathing out a quiet sigh of relief, chest feeling uncomfortably tight- "of course, Miss Ishtar-" he placed one hand on her back, taking her other hand in his, and helped her up off the couch.

"Seto."

He'd been averting his eyes out of courtesy, though with no small effort, as she'd shed her dress before him, allowing the impossibly fine fabric to crumple to the floor-she really must be drunk-

-to see this on the screen, from far away, was one thing-

-for her to be like that-

-in the flesh-

-too much for him to bear.

Wincing slightly, he dared to lift his head, a rush of relief flooding him as he saw her already in the bed, wrapped in the white coverlet, head on her pillow. Hair in soft coils around her face. Eyes wide. Almost tremulous.

Let's see if he'll bite-

Voice unsteady. "I-I'm sorry to ask this, Seto, but-would you-um-"

"Nn?" Seto walked towards her tentatively, stepping carefully around the dress to come to her bedside.

She bit her lip, looking away shyly. Modestly. As if she could barely think to utter the thought, that strange as it was, seemed to be plaguing her mind. "Um-would you stay?-with me?"

I'm already in Hell, aren't I…

Before he could think to respond, she'd shifted in the queen-sized bed. Reached out her hand towards his. Fingers scrabbling at the back of his hand. Her nails.

He caught a glimpse of her breast, peeking out of the top of the coverlet, and groaned audibly, not seeing the shadow that passed over Ishizu's face.

"A-ah. All right, then-"

And as Ishizu watched, keeping her eyes round, gentle, doe-like, he quickly shucked his shoes, unfastened his tie, and slid out of his jacket, carefully folding the garment into a neat pile on the floor before gesturing for her to move over.

She rolled away from him towards the wall as he slid in beside her, heart pounding unmercifully in his chest, blood boiling in his ears, as he pulled the coverlet over his legs.

As he laid his head back on the plump white pillow, he felt her shift in the bed. Felt her gaze on his cheek. Turned his head to face her, catching a glimpse of her bare back, the coverlet only coming up to her waist. Nearly having another heart attack at the sight.

Her eyes sleepy, half-closed. Voice again a whisper, tickling the base of his spine. "Good night, Seto…"

Goodbye.