So, here is the new chapter! It is basically a bucketload of Marik and Bakura griping at each other. XD Massive thanks to everyone reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this update! - Jem

Marik followed Bakura out of the flat with trepidation sitting low in his gut. The feeling only increased when Bakura turned to him at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth decorated with a wicked smirk and his deep brown eyes gleaming. Marik looked back suspiciously, his brow creased and his lips drawn into a thin line. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Bakura countered, his tone dark and bubbling with mirth.

Marik glared at him. "Tell me where you're taking me."

"You'll see." Bakura chuckled, turning with a swirl of his black coat as he exited the building.

Marik followed with a very obvious roll of his eyes, muttering deliberately loudly, "You don't have to be so fucking dramatic."

Bakura gave him the finger as they walked out onto the bustling nighttime streets.

Marik looked about him with something akin to awe; he hadn't been out in the city this late before, and the buildings were glowing, lighting up the sky with an electric haze. The air was dense and misty, covered with a fine film of the ever-present rain that had Marik's hair drooping at the edges. He grimaced, sending Bakura's back a dark glare as he followed him down the street. Bakura caught it and smirked back, slowing slightly to allow Marik to catch up. "You don't need to look so grumpy. I think you'll enjoy it tonight."

"I'd enjoy it more if I actually knew where we were going," Marik grumbled, stalking the streets beside Bakura with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket. Bakura just laughed at him. They paced through the darkened streets, approaching the centre of the city before Bakura turned down a road Marik had never seen before, leading him into a much less occupied part of town. Marik slowed his steps as the buildings grew emptier and darker, his eyes narrowing as he looked around. Bakura noticed his footsteps cease and stopped as well, shooting him a quizzical look. "What are you waiting for? Come on."

"I want to know where we're going." Marik dug his heels in stubbornly, his brows lowering as he regarded his pale flatmate.

Bakura sighed loudly, walking back towards him. "I assure you that it's perfectly safe, as long as you stick with me."

"Oh, that really inspires confidence," Marik scoffed.

Bakura smirked at him. "We can go home if you're too scared to carry on. I should have known you would be a coward, after growing up locked away from ev..."

Marik interrupted by giving Bakura the finger as he stalked straight past him, continuing down the shadowy alley. A low chuckle sounded from behind Marik as Bakura jogged to catch up, falling back into step beside him. "I thought that would work."

"Shut the fuck up." Marik steadfastly ignored Bakura as they headed down the alley, at least until he felt a sharp tug on his arm. Marik whirled, raising his fist, but Bakura caught it with a snort.

"Relax, Ishtar. We're here."

"Where exactly is 'here'?" Marik asked sceptically, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed their dark surroundings. "There's nothing here!"

"There is if you know where to look." Bakura winked, causing Marik's heart to race slightly, before he turned and ducked into a small corner, disappearing. Marik edged closer with a frown, reaching out a hand – his fingers met black material. A cloth; it must be concealing some kind of doorway. Stepping closer, Marik pulled the sheet of cloth aside to reveal a low, concealed arch built into a brick wall. His nose wrinkled slightly. Bakura couldn't have gone in there, surely?

"Ishtar. Will you get a fucking move on?"

Marik couldn't hold back a snort. Only Bakura would say something like that. With a weight of worry stirring trouble in his stomach, Marik ducked under the arch and entered a dark, shadowy space. Blackness pressed against his eyelids; he couldn't see a thing. Cool pale fingers wrapped around his wrist, and a voice breathed into his ear, "Just follow my lead."

"I don't really have much choice," Marik scowled back, allowing himself to be blindly pulled forward. The fingers of his free hand brushed against the wall; judging by the lack of space, they were in some sort of tiny corridor. Claustrophobia clutched at Marik's chest, and he gripped tightly onto the arm that was holding his wrist. A low chuckle sounded from ahead of him, causing Marik's back to bristle. "Scared, Ishtar?"

"Just shut up," Marik hissed, but in all honesty the darkness was far too reminiscent of the tomb of his childhood for him to truly be comfortable. He hung on unashamedly to Bakura's wrist, his heart racing and throat constricting until they finally exited the darkness and stepped into a wide, open space. Bakura peeled Marik's fingers off his wrist as soon as they were free of the corridor, disappearing from his side whilst Marik took a moment to look around, taking in his surroundings with narrowed, wary eyes.

They seemed to be inside some sort of disused theatre. Marik was stood at the back, facing the stage; rows and rows of seats fell away from his feet, a dusty red carpet peeking through the ragged cushions, softly glowing in the dim, warm lighting. The stage was covered in a thin sheen of dust and shadow, a shallow stream of particles shimmering in the dim lighting of the abandoned theatre. Marik watched with narrowed eyes, his pulse still racing in his throat from the darkness of the tunnel. Bakura had disappeared somewhere, so Marik made his own way down to the stage, fingernails gripping occasionally onto the musty old velvet of the seats. Dust flew into the air from his every touch, making him sneeze. This place was old.

Marik continued carefully down the stairs, his shadow leaping across the walls as he stepped right up beside the stage. The once-impressive platform stood tall and proud beside him, it's strong structure ringing through the room, owning the space. Marik looked at it with something akin to awe - he had never been to a place like this, after all, but he recognised it well enough from books and the TV. Revolving slowly on his heel, Marik looked back out at the seats of the auditorium and a smirk flew across his lips. Imagine standing up on the stage, and looking out at the sea of faces all waiting expectantly for you to do something, to speak, to act...the control you must have, to be able to command a room like this ... the power it must give you...

"Ishtar. Are you quite done staring? We've got work to do, you know."

Marik rolled his eyes at the painfully familiar voice, dark tone as amused as ever. Bakura came to stand beside him, silent as one of the shadows that flickered against the wall; only the faint sound of his breathing gave his position away. Marik didn't bother turning to face him as he spoke. "If you didn't bring me here to gawk, what exactly did you want to do?"

Bakura merely sent him a cryptic smirk before turning and jumping up onto the stage, landing with a cat-like grace on the wooden surface. He turned with a flair of his black coat, white hair falling into his eyes as he offered a hand to Marik.

"Remember what I said about not being dramatic?" Marik sniffed as he grudgingly accepted the proffered hand.

Bakura snorted as be pulled Marik up. "I don't act to please you."

"I noticed." Marik sneezed as dust filled his nostrils; it was much worse on the stage, thickly coating every available surface with disgusting grey particles. "If you were trying to keep me happy, you would not have brought me to some abandoned wreck of a theatre."

"Oh, so you do know what it is. I was worried it was too cultured for you," Bakura replied sagely, dodging Marik's predictable lunge. "Oh come now, we were doing such a good job of keeping this civil. Follow me."

Marik sent his retreating back a glare as he followed Bakura across to the back of the stage, entering the darkness once again. "You keep acting this insufferably, and I'll show you fucking civil."

Bakura chuckled. "We already know that if it comes to a fight I will defeat you, Ishtar."

"You haven't seen me fight," Marik hissed.

Bakura sent him an amused smirk. "If memory serves me correctly, that's because I've usually won before you've had a chance to get started."

"Asshole! You always sneak up on me!"

"How about the time I caught you in my room, hm?" Bakura's smirk turned into a grin, and Marik's brows furrowed.

"You still took me by surprise..."

"In your room, Bakura? And here I thought you actually had taste."

Both students, tanned and pale, jumped violently at the new, chillingly cold voice, both heads instantly whipping to the shadows of backstage. Bakura recovered first, that all-too-familiar smirk soon pulling at the corners of his mouth as he stepped forwards. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"This one's personal." The tone of the voice hardened slightly, and Marik squinted into the shadows to try and discern where it was coming from. There – was that a figure? If it was, he was very tall...

Bakura caught Marik's staring and scoffed, turning back to the new arrival. "If you're joining us, you had better step out into the light. My companion here doesn't exactly trust strangers."

"I don't trust you, Bakura," Marik hissed. "That doesn't necessarily mean I don't trust every stranger."

Bakura lifted a brow. "So, what, you do trust strangers?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then." Bakura very exaggeratedly rolled his eyes before turning back to the shadows. "Ignore him. He has this irritating habit of arguing with me over everything."

A low chuckle rose from the shadows, and the air shifted as a tall figure stepped out onto the stage. "I can see that for myself."

Marik lifted a brow as he ran his eyes down the figure before him; needless to say, he had not been expecting to see a business-like man in what was obviously very expensive clothing in such a run-down place as this. The man's pale skin gleamed, his long frame casting deep shadows as he moved across the stage, ice-blue eyes piercing as he turned them on Marik. His expression was stern as he spoke. "Where did you pick this one up, Bakura?"

Marik bristled instantly. "What do you mean, this one? Just who the fuck are you?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and he turned away from Marik to send Bakura a glare. "If he's just going to get in the way then I think you should take him home."

"Trust me," Bakura smirked. "He'll be fine. He's just tagging along."

Marik hissed. "I am not tagging along. I don't even know where the fuck this is, or what we're meant to be doing."

"Really?" The man lifted a questioning brow at Bakura, who snickered.

"Ignore him." Bakura moved to Marik's side, sending him a scornful smirk. "Marik, I didn't really expect anyone else to be here today, but it's of no consequence. We can still do what we came here to do."

Marik glared at him. "And just what is that?"

"You'll see." Bakura smirked and turned back to the newcomer. "You ready to go?"

By way of response, the tall figure simply stalked to the edge of the stage, jumped down, and then headed towards the exit without a backwards glance. Marik watched him go with a frown covering his face, the dust whirling through the air making him sneeze before he spoke. "Who was that?"

"His name's Kaiba." Bakura jumped off the stage and stalked after him, tossing over his shoulder, "You might want to keep close, if you don't want to get lost."

Marik stared at his back for a moment, seething, before finally deciding that he didn't really have much choice. "I am going to make you pay for this," he muttered as he followed Bakura back up the rows of seats and towards the exit.

A chilling laugh was all that floated back towards him.

...

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Marik was buried in a set of bushes, brambles pushing into his skin and tangling in his hair, the soaked, muddy ground leaving marks on his stomach as he lay flat. "What the hell are we even doing here?" He hissed.

Bakura sent him a dangerous glare from his side. "Shut up and watch."

Marik wriggled uncomfortably, parting the brambles in front of his face to clear his vision. They were watching a huge mansion, the lights of the windows shining out like beacons across the rolling lawn. Bakura was lying next to him, his eyes keen as he scoured the landscape. Kaiba had left them to go round the back, muttering something about a safe way in.

Marik shifted again, kicking one of his legs as he felt the beginning of pins and needles. "Bakura, I swear, if you don't tell me what the fuck we're doing right now, I am going to kill you."

Bakura snorted, twisting just enough to send Marik a mildly irritated look. "God, if I knew you were going to be this irritating I would have left you at home."

"Just fucking tell me," Marik hissed, wrinkling his nose. "I hate this mess."

Bakura turned his head forwards again, muttering quickly, "In case you were too thick to realise, we're going to steal from this place. I've had my eye on it for months; Kaiba must have, too, but I didn't realise."

"You're stealing from here?" Marik cast a scathing look to the mansion, his head whirring. "There's nothing here to steal!"

Bakura's eyes gleamed through the shadows as he shot Marik a glare. "That just shows your ignorance. There is a lot to steal, if you know where to look."

Marik growled, his brows furrowing, when a tall shadow slipped up to the bushes by his side. "Bakura," the cold voice spoke, "It's clear, we can go in now. Keep the idiot with you – I'm going for the office."

"I don't take orders from you," Bakura spat, wriggling out of the bush and rising swiftly to his feet.

"And I'm not an idiot!" Marik hissed, scrambling to his feet and brushing himself down.

Bakura rolled his eyes, turning his back on Marik and facing Kaiba again. "You never said before – what is your business here? I haven't seen you working for a long time."

"Like I said," Kaiba shrugged, "This one's personal. The idiot that lives here thought it would be funny to threaten Mokuba when my company overtook his, so I figured it would be time for some payback. I'm taking the office; keep out of my way if you know what's good for you." Without a second glance, Kaiba swooped away into the night, his coat snapping around his ankles as he left.

Marik sent a disparaging look after him. "What is it with you thieves and long coats?"

"Kaiba isn't a thief," Bakura scoffed. "And long coats look good."

Marik turned with raised eyebrows, raking his eyes over Bakura's form before looking back over at Kaiba. "His is better than yours."

Bakura merely released a dark laugh, starting through the shadows towards the mansion. Marik followed him quickly, Bakura's white hair gleaming through the darkness and acting as a clear guide. It was cold out, clouds lying thick and blanketing the moon stars, although it was not actually raining yet. The grass beneath their feet was springy and damp, colours muted in the nighttime air. Bakura strode straight up to the window closest to them, making quick work of the lock and carefully sliding open the gass. He pressed a slender, pale finger to his lips, sending Marik a warning look before sliding one leg through the opening.

Marik's eyes narrowed. He hissed, venom lacing his tone. "You are having a fucking laugh if you think I'm going in there."

"I don't think, Ishtar," Bakura growled back, "I know." He slid his other leg through the opening, perching on the windowsill before ducking under the glass and landing silently on the other side. Marik watched his almost feline grace with something akin to envy gnawing at his gut. His stomach twisted. Matters were certainly not helped when Bakura turned to him, pressing his face to the glass with a wide, smug grin before stepping back and beckoning.

"You are so going to pay," Marik grouched before reluctantly shimmying his own body through the window, landing on the hard tiled floor with a graceless thump.

"Idiot." A white hand swam into view as Marik opened his eyes, and he grabbed it with a glare, allowing himself to be pulled upright. Bakura shook his head, his eyes dancing with amusement. "God, I thought you'd have been much better at this, considering you have literally got away with murder."

Marik yelped, casting a quick look around the room they were in to make sure no one was within hearing distance. The mansion was silent and dark, filled with deadened air and muffled walls. They appeared to be in a dining room; a large oak table filled the centre, the walls papered in some fancy pattern and muffling all sounds. Marik rubbed his arm, wincing – he had landed rather painfully on the tiled floor, after all. Bakura sent him a disparaging glance, leaning close enough to mutter into his ear, "You have to be quiet now. Stick by my side, and don't go wandering off."

"Gladly," Marik hissed in reply. Bakura turned, edging silently to the open door in the far wall and slipping into the hall, Marik close on his heels.

The mansion was large and elegant. Obviously expensive paintings decorated the walls, the floors were thickly carpeted, and there were carvings along the treated wooden banisters that even Marik could tell were very high quality. Bakura's fingers itched the further into the shadows they went, but he remained relatively frugal; Marik noticed only a few items slipping into his coat as they passed, and he left the paintings alone entirely.

Bakura drew to a sudden halt in the hall at the base of the stairs, his fingers curling warningly around Marik's wrist. Marik flinched at the touch, trying to draw back, but Bakura held him fast with a flash of annoyance in his eyes. Marik made a face at him, obediently stepping closer and allowing Bakura to whisper in his ear. "What I'm looking for is in the basement. Stay up here and keep watch."

Marik opened his mouth, beginning, "But..." only for Bakura to cut him off with a harsh finger to the lips.

"Shut. Up." Bakura hissed. "And for once in your life don't argue with me. Just stay here – I'll be two minutes."

Marik glared as he turned and opened a door to their left, silently picking the lock. Bakura didn't look back as he disappeared down the newly-revealed flight of stairs, and so Marik resigned himself to wait, resting against the wall and releasing a huffy sigh. There were muffled noises from somewhere above him, but a quick glance up the stairs revealed it to be Kaiba scouring through some papers in the office. He had a torch with him and was moving silently, so Marik doubted that there was any chance the owners would wake up. Resting his head back against the wall, Marik allowed his eyes to slide closed as he thought over what exactly he was doing here. Bakura had said he was taking Marik to see some of his home life, but this quite obviously wasn't his home; had he meant the thievery, then? Was this truly all the life that Bakura knew? Thinking back, Marik remembered one of their earlier conversations, where Bakura had revealed that he had lived on the streets for a while. Was this his only income, then? What of a family; parents, relatives, friends? Did Bakura have no one he could rely on for help? With a slight clench in his gut, Marik realised that he really knew very little about his pale flatmate.

Bakura reappeared quickly enough, his hands wrapped carefully around something he kept hidden within the folds of his coat. Marik lifted an eyebrow. "What have you got there?"

"I'll show you once we're out of here." Bakura sent him a wicked smirk, his eyes practically glowing despite the shadows all around them. "Get Kaiba, and let's get out of here. They'll be waking up soon."

"Yeah, about that," Marik grumbled, turning and blindly feeling his way towards the stairs. "What time is it, anyway? I have to be up for classes at nine...AH!" With a sudden crash, followed by a series of thumps, Marik went flying across the hallway, landing painfully on his backside against the wall. There was a low hiss from the shadows behind him, a curse from upstairs, and, much more worryingly, the sounds of a new, sleepy voice, muttering, "Who ... who's there?"

"Shit!"

Before Marik knew what was happening, cold fingers were pulling him up from the floor and dragging him straight to the front door. Marik blinked and they were out in the open air, his arm almost being pulled out of its socket by the strength of Bakura's grip. They were running across the vast lawn, straight out of the gates and back into the streets, Marik soon gasping for breath as he struggled to keep up with Bakura's rushing pace. "What ... the hell ... are you doing?"

"You fucking idiot!" Bakura roared over his shoulder, continuing to tug Marik forcefully down the streets and rushing quickly into an alleyway. He tossed Marik roughly against a wall, thrusting his face right into Marik's and pinning his arms to his side. "What the fuck was that? You idiot!"

"I don't know!" Marik hissed back, his eyes flashing furiously at the way Bakura had him trapped. "I just tripped over something, I didn't mean to fall..."

"Well you fucking did, didn't you?" Bakura leered at him, his mouth a thin, tight line and his hands pincer-like on Marik's arms. "Fucking hell, you fool."

Marik growled, shoving Bakura forcibly off him and rubbing his wrists. "I'm sorry, alright? What happened to Kaiba?"

"Don't know, don't fucking care." Bakura doubled over, one pale, slender hand slipping inside his coat and caressing something hidden within its folds. "We need to get back. Now."

Marik drew back a step, eyeing Bakura carefully and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Tell me what you stole first."

"Fuck no." Bakura stalked straight back out of the alley, tossing a single hateful look over his shoulder before continuing on his way.

Marik swore under his breath, rushing to catch up; he had no idea how to get home from here, but he hated following along behind Bakura like some sort of lapdog. He opened his mouth to speak, only for a muttered, "Don't you fucking dare talk to me, idiot," and a hard stare. Marik settled for sending him a glare, and promising himself to yell at Bakura once they got back to the flat.

...

"You fucking idiot!" Bakura rounded on Marik as soon as they entered the flat, advancing on him in the tiny hallway and sending Marik skittering back a step. "What the hell were you doing? Are you completely fucking incapable of even looking where you're going?"

"Well, if you hadn't kept me in the dark so much, maybe I wouldn't have had to!" Marik yelled right back at him, although his stomach tightened a little at the pure fury sizzling in Bakura's deep brown eyes.

"As if," Bakura growled, stepping slowly closer. "You were just a fucking waste of space. I should never have even showed you..."

Marik's back bristled at that, and he advanced towards Bakura, throwing his head straight into Bakura's space. "You didn't have to, idiot. I never asked to go along with you – hell, I didn't even know where you were going! So what was the big idea? Why did you want to show me your fucking messed-up hell of a life?"

Bakura's eyes flashed. He growled, low in his throat, and grasped Marik suddenly by the shoulders, ignoring his flinch and grunt. "Perhaps I showed you because I wanted to show you something of my life. You've been completely open with me, and maybe I wanted to return the favour, hm?"

"What?" Marik blinked, his muscles freezing as he stared directly into Bakura's eyes. "...Really? You actually steal like that all the time?"

Bakura shrugged, suddenly releasing Marik and dropping his gaze. "What of it?"

"I just ... had no idea." Marik frowned, tilting his head quizzically. "So what about your parents? Don't they help you out?"

"They're dead," Bakura deadpanned, drawing Marik up short. "And I'm not going to talk about it."

"But..."

"Marik," Bakura interrupted impatiently, "Did you want to see what I stole, or not?"

Marik thrust his jaw out obstinately. He wanted to know more about Bakura, and ask about his past, but he could tell that Bakura wasn't going to just volunteer the information. Still, discovering that he was a fellow orphan was ... a surprise, certainly. Marik finally settled on just jerking his head in a nod.

Bakura sent him a wicked smirk, reaching into his coat and drawing out something wrapped in a piece of white cloth. "This, Marik, is why that whole debacle of a trip was worth it."

Marik's eyebrows shot up, his violet eyes widening as Bakura pulled away the cloth to reveal a giant, glistening jewel. It was pure green, gleaming even in the harsh glare of the electric light, glistening wondrously; it was beautiful. Marik's fingers itched, and he automatically stretched out a hand...

Bakura whipped the white cloth back over it, sending Marik a disparaging glance. "Like hell I'm letting you touch it. Thanks to you, I almost lost it."

"Idiot," Marik responded automatically, his eyes still edged with a greed he hadn't experienced before. "How did you even know that would be there?"

Bakura shrugged, yawning. "I like to keep tabs on precious things."

"That isn't an answer." Marik glared.

Bakura shrugged, turning to his bedroom door. "It's all the answer you're getting, imbecile. I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, you ... wait, what time is it?" Marik frowned, quickly flicking a glance at his newly-acquired watch. "Shit, it's three A.M! I have to be up in five hours!"

"You have fun with that." Bakura sent him a smug grin, closing the door behind him. A low chuckle rang through the wood, followed by a muffled, "I will be thinking of you when I'm lying in tomorrow!"

"Asshole!" Marik muttered under his breath, trudging into his own room and collapsing back onto his bed. He didn't have time to bother getting changed; his eyes closed the moment his head hit the pillow.

That's it for now! If you spot any typos, please let me know and I'll fix them. ^_^ Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! - Jem