Author's note: This is unapologetic Seto/Anzu all the way. It's in my profile, but I'll reiterate here that I'm rather fond of non-canon, unconventional pairings because it's an opportunity to develop characters beyond what you see in the anime/manga. It's more fun for me to stray from established relationships and build a romance of my own and that's what I intend to do here.

I know there are those who despise this particular pairing, or just Anzu in general. If you fit either of those categories, then you shouldn't even be here in the first place. Everyone is entitled to their own preferences and I don't have anything against those who don't share my opinions. Just as people are diverse, so are the many pairings for this genre, and it's good to see such a variety in the fandom.

Having said that, I expect to be treated with the same respect I hold for those whose views differ from my own. I won't tolerate any reviews that flame my work based on the pairing, or Anzu-love. I appreciate and welcome constructive criticism if it is courteous and regarding the technical aspects of my story (plot, writing, grammar, flow etc), but please keep any catty remarks or petty insults to yourselves and refrain from attacking me personally. Thank you.

I will add to that, there will be some discrepancies in the story regarding age, and a few other things. That's because it is an AU and as such, certain things have to be different. For example, I couldn't have Mokuba be 11 in this story as it's too old for what I have planned for him. There will be other discrepancies, but nothing that will grossly detract from the characters we all know in love, so just bear with me. Thanks again!

Now then, for everybody who enjoys this pairing: Have fun!

Ps. I'm a firm believer that if a fic is written in English, then it's done in English. That means no Japanese words or terms that frankly I'd probably be misusing anyway. I also don't make it a point to include the honorifics unless I feel it adds something to the story. In this case, it doesn't so they won't be appearing here.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters and you should all be grateful for it.


Chapter One

Mazaki Anzu was seriously annoyed.

Plagued with the evils of a day that had already begun it's rapid descent into Hades before she'd even set foot out of the house that morning, she trudged home with a scowl that marred her otherwise attractive features.

It should have been a good day, great even. The last day of school before summer vacation was always classes packed with time-consuming filler activities, which basically meant chatting with her best friends about their plans for the holiday. In the past, said plans had normally consisted of lazy days at the beach, frequent trips to the amusement park, and cook-outs with the gang in her backyard. Anzu had been looking forward to it…

Until her sadistic parents planned, plotted, and executed a pre-emptive strike against all forms of summer entertainment and relaxation, that is. They'd ambushed her at the breakfast table that very morning. Catching her off-guard between bites of bacon, the blow was delivered; behind her back and without consulting her at all, the sneaky duo had gone out and found summer employment for their only daughter.

She shuddered at the concept. A summer job. Goodbye swimsuits, barbecues, and sleeping in. Hello, early mornings, manual labor, and a drill sergeant boss!

How clever her parents were when they gleefully issued her sentence, how smug. Her father's mustache ineffectively trying to conceal the 'parents-know-best' smirk occupying his lips while he explained the cost of that prestigious dance academy was simply too much for their 'meager' funds. Her mother's sensible tone of voice informing her that the position they'd acquired for her was very lucrative and would more than cover the tuition.

Anzu didn't buy it for a second, of course. The dance academy she planned to attend three times a week in the fall was well within their reach, without forcing her to resort to working all summer. But she also knew that her parents were determined not to coddle their only child. In their determination to see to it that she learn a valuable life lesson or two, they would ensure that she had to really work hard to achieve her dreams.

Which was obviously a load… she worked hard enough as it is. This little maneuver was classic sabotage on their part; trying to dissuade her from continuing to pursue a 'pipe dream' and come back down to earth. She didn't have to take the job after all; she could always have the summer she'd been planning all year and forfeit her opportunity to further her dance education through professional instruction in the fall.

Well played guys, Anzu thought, Well played…

Because there was no way in hell she was about to give up on something she'd been working towards since she was a toddler. Of course, her parents had anticipated Anzu's stubborn determination, they must have. It was the only explanation she could think of for why they'd made certain to find the most heinous position possible for their daughter to fill.

As if it wasn't bad enough to be saddled with a job all summer long, she was now employed by the most incorrigible guy she'd ever had the distinct displeasure of verbally grappling with. No doubt inspired by her frequent loud expulsions of distaste for the guy, her parents had gone ahead and secured him as her boss.

She would have to work eight hours a day, five days a week, in the household of Kaiba Seto.

She cursed the evil, wretched woman on his housekeeping staff who'd decided to vacation in the Bahamas all summer long. Her upcoming absence provided a nice little temporary opening which Anzu's parents had wasted no time greedily snapping up before any other hopefuls had a chance.

If it were any other rich jerk, Anzu might have been able to tap into her seemingly never-ending reserve of peppy, cheerful, 'put-on-a-happy-face' energy and brave the upcoming prison sentence with a brilliant smile. But it wasn't just any rich jerk; it was Kaiba the jerkiest jerk that ever jerked.

He was a billionaire at the tender age of 16, and he clearly thought he was something special as the result. Why he even bothered to attend school, Anzu didn't know, since a private tutor would be much more palatable for the wealthy genius in her opinion. She didn't understand why he would immerse himself in the world of teenagers when he obviously despised them all. The guy was an elitist, and a classically misanthropic one at that.

He was cold and callous, refusing to involve himself with extracurricular activities and shunning everybody who dared look in his general direction. When he bothered to spare some hopeful admirer a glance, his expression was wrought with undisguised disdain. The rest of the time, his indifference could fill a room and the blue intensity of his gaze was more chilling than desirable. To sum it up, he was just your basic egotistical snob with the looks, wealth, and intelligence to back it all up.

Most of the students who attended Domino High ignored Kaiba, or stayed out of his way. Of course, Anzu associated with a merry band of misfits who more often than not found themselves directly in his path.

Yugi, her best friend since childhood, caught Kaiba's attention by being a prodigy. He was small and soft-spoken, but extremely intelligent and resourceful. As the result, the two were in a fierce dead-locked competition for the coveted position of top of the class. The thing was that said competition existed only in Kaiba's mind, as he'd sooner die than be bested by a 'mere mortal' particularly one as innocent and diminutive as Yugi. For his part, Yugi wasn't even trying to beat Kaiba and would sooner be friends with the guy than anything. Which was an attitude that only served to infuriate Seto that much more.

Yugi's close friends were bold and larger-than-life where he was shy and reserved. Aside from Anzu, Jounouchi and Honda completed their group, and both were loud, brash, and extremely vocal about their dislike for Kaiba. Jounouchi in particular found great joy in antagonizing the wealthy CEO, and when the circumstances called for it, Anzu herself wouldn't hesitate to tell Kaiba off if she felt it was warranted. When he tried to bully Yugi, for example, she was all over it. Nobody got away with mistreating her friends.

She'd had her share of run-ins with the arrogant Kaiba, and suffice it to say there was no love lost between the two of them.

And now she would be working for him.

"My parents hate me," she muttered aloud, turning the corner onto her street. "My friends mock me…"

Which is exactly what they had done when she'd broken the news in a horrified voice earlier that morning. Yugi, of course had been appropriately sympathetic, patting her shoulder, assuring her that Kaiba really wasn't as bad as everybody thought he was, and explaining that his job would most likely keep him away from his home for most of the time she was there anyway.

Jounouchi on the other hand, laughed uproariously at the image of her in a French maid's uniform before conspiratorially beseeching her to pilfer a pair of Kaiba's underwear from the laundry room to be exploited. Honda got in on the act, pleased with potential opportunities to get to the evil CEO from inside his own home. She was a spy in their twisted minds, a convenient plant in the perfect position to wreak all kinds of good old fashioned havoc.

Yes, she'd wreak havoc alright, all the way to the ashes of her dreams as her resulting dismissal without pay left her with no hope of attending dance school.

They'd merely laughed at her use of melodrama and she decided that with her friends, who the hell needed enemies anyway?

Although that was certainly the least of her worries…

"How was your day, sweetheart?" Her mother's voice was maddeningly cheerful as Anzu stomped into the house.

A glance in her direction revealed a relaxed and content Mazaki Eri, lounging on her favorite armchair, fully enjoying her rare day away from the office. Eri was an attractive middle-aged woman with a serene disposition, level head, and a playful streak. Her unruffled demeanor served her well in the courtroom where her uncanny calm under pressure made her an excellent litigator.

She had passed her steadfastness onto her daughter, along with her stunning good looks. They both shared a tall, slim frame, silky chestnut brown tresses, and large sapphire eyes. Unfortunately, Anzu had inherited something of a temper from her father, and Eri's casual serenity only served to provoke it.

Anzu turned the full force of her scowl onto the unsuspecting matriarch, "You're clearly operating under the false assumption that we're still on speaking terms so I'll have to officially go on the record saying we most certainly are not. Please refrain from addressing me again."

Mrs. Mazaki's lips quirked in amusement, "May I ask when the silence is to be lifted?"

"As a lawyer, you should be acquainted with the concept of negotiation," Anzu replied. "Until you present more acceptable terms, it will continue."

The elder woman affectionately tucked a strand of rich brown hair behind her daughter's ear. "I may be a lawyer, but I am also your mother and I know best. There will be no negotiations."

"This could constitute cruel and unusual punishment you know," Anzu pulled away from her mother. "Any court would agree that repeated subjection to Kaiba is torture."

Mrs. Mazaki's smile widened. "Then I won't punish you for your insolence in this matter as exposure to such a cretin is apparently punishment enough."

"You're all heart, mom."

"And you, my dear, are a bona fide drama queen," she returned. 'Honestly, a summer job isn't so unheard of. Many of my associates have kids that plan to be employed over the break, and would kill for such a position.

"You'll be doing reasonably easy work in a cool, air-conditioned mansion, and bringing home a nice paycheck in the meantime. Besides that, you'll still have plenty of time to hang out with your friends on the weekends."

"Yeah, and reporting to the demonic joy-killing entity who calls himself Kaiba all the while," Anzu retorted. "Sounds like heaven."

"Oh relax, sweet." Mrs. Mazaki slung an arm around her shoulder, "You'll be reporting to the head of the household staff, Mrs. Aihara. I seriously doubt you'll ever even see Mr. Kaiba."

"In his own home?"

"He's a reputed workaholic," she waved her hands dismissively, "He'll be at the office all day and you'll be safe at home long before he returns to the mansion."

"I guess…" Anzu sighed. "But still, to be locked away in his Evil Lair all summer long… you could have at least went for a job that would have allowed me a chance to score a tan. I'll be white as a ghost come fall."

"I highly doubt it," her mother was dubious. "Anyway, this was the best job we could find for you, and you should at the very least be grateful you'll have enough money to score a spot in your dance school come fall."

"Yay," she said flatly.

"Well, you could always skip the summer job," Eri reasoned, "Your father and I aren't forcing you to do anything… Of course if that's the case, there will no doubt be a group of disappointed instructors at Abukara Dance Academy when the fall semester starts."


"You and dad aren't parents," Anzu accused, "You're devious, dream-annihilating sadists determined to destroy me before I have a chance to take New York by storm."

"Uh-oh, you caught us," Mrs. Mazaki feigned horror. "Damn! To have our cover blown when we were so close to achieving our goal! The demon masquerading as your father will be incensed when I break the news."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," her daughter muttered, stalking towards the kitchen. "Mock my pain."

"All those years of careful planning down the drain," she continued, "And the cost of those 'dream-destruction' lessons were exorbitant!"

"Ha-ha," Anzu stuck her head into the fridge, "You'd make a killing in Vegas."

"I told him to keep the receipts, but he just had to destroy the evidence. Do you think Satan will give us a refund anyway? Maybe store credit?"

"I'll ask him when I report to work Monday morning."

"See that you do," Mrs. Mazaki smiled brilliantly at her daughter in a manner that only accentuated how similar they were in appearance. "If we're lucky, the 'evilness' of your father and myself will pale in comparison to your villainous boss."

"Okay, that's it! The silent treatment is in full effect!"

"Aw, you're too kind, darling."

Anzu muttered something under her breath and started to retreat to her bedroom.

"I love you too honey!" her mother cheerfully called to her back, "And you'll thank me later for your fabulous summer!"

Now that was just an outright lie; Anzu's vacation was liable to be a veritable disaster.


Mrs. Aihara was a walking stereotype.

One look at her rigid posture, sharp features, and essentially colorless hair tied back in a tight bun, and it was obvious the woman was missing her militant roots. She was tall and fierce looking, a stern, no-nonsense, ball-busting type of woman. The perfect person to run Kaiba's house, and run it she did.

Anzu couldn't help but feel a little intimidated from her position in the perfectly straight line the staff had been ordered into the moment the clock struck 7:00am. After all, she was far from stern, and delighted in nonsense. She'd bust balls if she had to, but was perfectly content befriending those who possessed them. And she didn't respond well to bullies, which was what Mrs. Aihara clearly was.

In light of this, she could foresee problems in their future… potential job-jeopardizing problems if she wasn't careful.

She remained still as the imposing woman lectured the staff about household policies, unwilling to stand out on her first day… although admittedly, she was almost certain she would be chewed out before the day was over. She hadn't missed the frosty look directed straight at her when Mrs. Aihara went over the finer parts of the dress code.

In her defense, Anzu had dressed according to the instructions she'd received the day before her first shift, and she'd almost gotten it right too. Like the rest of the staff, her shirt was white and collared, she wore black dress shoes, and had pulled her hair away from her face as was the policy. Apart from the fact she'd gone for a more stylish French twist as opposed to the boring ponytail the other women donned, she had been confident that she'd meet the required standards.

Then she'd gone and screwed up the skirt part of the uniform. According to policy the men were required to wear black pants or shorts, the same for the women, but with the extra option of a skirt. Having few black articles of clothing in her possession, Anzu had to choose between wool pants and a cute mini-skirt. Who in their right mind would have chosen the pants in the blistering summer heat?

Well apparently anybody who wanted to avoid the wrath of Aihara, since as it turned out Anzu's adorable skirt was at least three inches short of the acceptable length. Oops.

As the household leader wrapped up her lecture, it was clear to Anzu that her faux-pas wasn't about to be overlooked. Mrs. Aihara zeroed in on her the second the rest of the staff was dismissed and with a curt nod motioned for her to have a seat.

Anzu obeyed and crossed her legs carefully as she took a seat at the kitchen table, painfully aware that her new position only made the skirt appear shorter.

"Mazaki, I understand this is your first day in Mr. Kaiba's employment?"

"Um, yes ma'am." She had no intention of further irritating the stone-faced woman.

"But you must know him well from school," Mrs. Aihara continued with a suspicious tone that caught her attention.

"Uh, I guess so," she met the elder woman's grey eyes, eyebrow raised. Where was this going exactly? Was the drill sergeant before her trying to extract a confession of her loathing of Kaiba? "I mean, as well as anyone knows him, really."

Mrs. Aihara pursed her lip, "Then this is odd, indeed."

"What is odd, exactly?" Now she was getting worried.

"Mr. Kaiba has requested that you report directly to him upon your arrival," she explained. "He has a special assignment for you it seems."

Anzu was floored.

She had been certain that one such as Kaiba would not concern himself with his lowly housekeepers and had hoped to escape his notice. She assumed he'd be so wrapped up in the business of running is company and would thus defer all household responsibilities to Mrs. Aihara. With any luck, he shouldn't have even known she was even working in his home at all.

But she had misjudged the young billionaire, and now it seemed almost absurd that she had thought otherwise. Of course, Kaiba knew what was going on in his own home. Did she really expect somebody as distrustful and thorough as he was wouldn't have his finger on the pulse of every aspect of his life from the office to his household? As if he'd let somebody else make even the most minor decision. He'd obviously demand to approve any employee who hoped to enter his premises, even if he did let Mrs. Aihara oversee them.

And thanks to her attitude when it came to him in the past, this special assignment was no doubt very special.

Nah, she thought to herself, He's an arrogant, emotionally unavailable, ruthless, misanthropic, bastard but surely he wouldn't sink to such pettiness. He's above such juvenile nonsense. He's more professional than employing someone only to lord over them like a sadistic…



…oh god. I'm doomed!

Mrs. Aihara obviously noticed her panicked expression and much to Anzu's surprise, actually cracked a wry smile.

"I see you're well-educated on the less savory rumors Mr. Kaiba has circulating about him," she said with a faintly amused tone. "I can assure you they're not all true."

"W-what?" Anzu blinked, "No… no, it's not that it's… I just realized that if I want to go to dance school in the fall, I'll be reporting directly to Kaiba Seto for the whole summer… it's um, a little… disconcerting is all."

The wry smile became a full-fledged grin, and Anzu decided maybe the old woman wasn't such a stereotype after all.

"Well I'm certain Mr. Kaiba won't have you doing anything non-union," she said, grey eyes twinkling. "And at the very least his orders have completely absolved you of answering to me."

"Well with all due respect to your tough reputation," Anzu told the old woman, "I can honestly say I'd much rather be tempered by your iron fist."

"Ah, I can see I'm the lesser of two evils," Mrs. Aihara shook her head, "But there is fire behind your eyes, Mazaki. I think you'll handle yourself just fine with our legendary boss."

"Oh that's not what I'm worried about, Kaiba doesn't scare me," she assured her, "I just don't know how I'll manage to keep from being fired. I mean this skirt alone is enough motivation for him to give me an earful, and you know he'd just love doing it, and who even knows what this 'special' assignment is and… oh god, he doesn't have a dungeon in here does he?"

All stereotypes were shattered when the old woman erupted into a deep belly laugh.


Kaiba Seto was seriously annoyed.

If it wasn't bad enough his brother's nanny just had to vacation in the Bahamas all summer, he'd exercised a rare moment of stupidity and actually asked for the eight-year-old's input for a potential replacement. Now he was about to be saddled with a freakishly cheerful, empty-headed, cheerleader prancing around his hallowed halls with her manic grin and overconfident attitude.

He knew he should have gone with his first impulse and sent Mazaki Anzu's resume to the paper shredder the moment it appeared on his desk. He'd assumed it was meant as some sort of joke, as he could never understand the odd brand of humor she shared with her equally stupid friends (Mouto Yugi begrudgingly excepted). Unfortunately, his curiosity had seen to the resume's survival as it lingered on his desk long enough for Mokuba to spot and now… now he was stuck with her.

The last thing he needed was that moron in his employment. She was a wild card, unpredictable and filled to the brim with vibrant emotion. Seto didn't like such exuberance, despised unpredictability.

He was all that was logical and calculating, and chose to surround himself with people (as people were a necessary evil in life) that meshed with these characteristics. He lived for subtlety and cool finesse, and viewed others as if they were pieces in the puzzle of his existence. He had no use for flaky, soft-hearted (and headed) individuals who added color and disorder to said puzzle. They were better left to happily waste away in their own stupidity.

Such people were weak, where Kaiba was strong. He'd achieved endless power in his short life, and would only achieve more if all went according to plan. His natural predatory instincts combined with sharp intelligence, and a lifetime of repressing emotions had made Seto hard. Although he did have his weaknesses, as irritating as they were.

For all his power the one thing, or rather person, who softened Seto's edge was his brother. Young, innocent, Mokuba who was the embodiment of every trait Seto normally despised. But where the weakness of others was contemptible in Kaiba's eyes, his love for his brother tempered such notions and bred within him a fierce loyalty and protectiveness.

There was not a single person, object, or concept more important to Seto than Mokuba. He would destroy anybody who dared harm a hair on the boy's head, would sooner die himself than see him unhappy. Through Mokuba, Seto was allowed to be weak, allowed to have emotions. He hardened himself to the rest of the world that shunned him, and saved all his humanity for his brother.

Which was precisely why Mokuba had such sway with the great Kaiba Seto. He'd needed a nanny who he'd like, who would amuse him and play with him, who'd be his friend. And the second the boy spotted Mazaki's resume, he'd been dead set against any other potential candidate for all Seto's persuasion.

Mokuba just couldn't get out of his little head the one time Mazaki had actually managed to do something other than waste space. Seto would admit he held a certain respect for her ever since the day she'd scared off some asshole who'd dared attack his little brother. But he certainly didn't hold her in the same light as Mokuba who was convinced she was his hero.

Ever since that day, the boy was smitten with Mazaki Anzu who was brave, and beautiful, and just so darned nice! Oh, that she would bestow such a smile on him every time he waved hello! Her sincere enquiries after his well-being every time he happened to run into her! That time she'd kissed his cheek after he'd given her Valentine's Day chocolate! She was a goddess, an angel, the only person who could possibly look after him for the long summer days Seto himself would be occupied!

He sneered at the thought. Her, a goddess! He would sooner call the shaggy blonde-haired idiot she hung out with an intellectual. What was his name, Jounouchi something-or-other? The fool actually thought he was good enough to occupy the same space as Seto, let alone put himself on his level. And now he was about to employ his uber-perky friend.

But such were the sacrifices one in his position had to make to please his brother, and he would at least grudgingly admit that Mazaki would at least do well in such a position. She seemed to have a remarkable way with Mokuba, and he was forced to admit that maybe she wasn't completely useless if she could make him happy.

His musings were interrupted by a steady knock on his office door, and he replied with an irritable invitation to enter.

And there she was. Her posture was excellent, appearance neat and tidy save for the skirt that should have been longer. Seto was certain she'd dressed to attract attention to her shapely long legs, and was annoyed to realize she'd been effective. If there was anything he hated more than weak stupidity, it was weak stupidity in an enticing package.

Faced with an opponent with long legs, slim hips, full lips, and other attractive features and his baser instincts had a say whether he wanted to hear them or not. He made a point to ignore them, and coolly met her heavily lashed eyes.


She returned his stare boldly, flames dancing behind luminous blue and Seto was annoyed to find intelligence reflected in her gaze. Such a discovery did not gel with his preconceived notions of her apparent stupidity and only added to her unpredictability. Aside from that, intelligence in an enticing package was the worst kind of intelligence just as is was the worst kind of ineptitude.

"Kaiba." Her flat tone matched his.

"Have a seat," he motioned to the leather chair in front of his desk.

Her gaze flickered quickly to her skirt, "I'd rather stand if you don't mind."

Seto smirked. It was a small victory, but her apparent uneasiness over the length of her skirt in his presence gave him an edge. Where another kind of woman might use her sexuality to gain the upper hand, Mazaki was clearly less experienced in these matters. While she was more than capable of exploiting her assets in such a manner, she still had a measure of innocence that ensured a more revealing outfit was a point of vulnerability for her.

"This could take a few minutes," he told her, "But if you're determined to stand, I won't stop you this time."

Her eyebrow shot up at the end of his sentence, but Seto masterfully hid his smile. Instead he pressed forward, satisfied that his idea of pleasantries had been exchanged.

"I'll cut straight to the chase," he crisply informed her. "I want you to look after my brother for the summer. You're… fond of Mokuba so I know it won't be a problem. Of course there are rules I expect you to follow and if you have any notion otherwise, please leave now as I have no other use for you."

Mazaki, for her part looked extremely relieved and just a little indignant, and Seto silently congratulated himself on his second victory. While she had seemed confident when she came in, her obvious relief now revealed that she had been hiding her initial nervousness.

"I don't have any problem with following your rules," Mazaki replied, "You're right, I do like Mokuba. We'll have fun."

"I expect he will if you intend to remain under my employment," Seto told her. "Now here are the rules: You will report directly to me, and only me. All issues regarding my brother's well-being will be brought to my attention. Mokuba's safety comes foremost, before anybody else's, including your own. I expect that you will clear all activities with me before you leave the house so I can make the proper arrangements for security. You are not to use your own discretion; when in doubt, always consult me. I can't stress this enough."

"Oh I bet you can try," Mazaki's tone was subtly sarcastic, all disdain masked with a cheerful edge.

"If you won't take this seriously," his own tone was acidic, "Then you're welcome to seek employment elsewhere."

She actually dared to roll her eyes, stealing a point right out from under his nose. "Of course I take this seriously, I'd never allow harm to come to a child under my care. But come on, Mokuba's a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. I highly doubt I'll need to consult you on his behavior."

"Just so long as you know who is ultimately in charge." Her obvious regard for his brother was her saving grace.

"As if you'd let me forget," she retorted, eyes flashing attractively with irritation.

Seto smirked, "I'm glad we understand each other."

"Thrilled, really."

"Hmm, try to curb your sarcasm when in the presence of Mokuba."

Mazaki surprised him by striding over to his desk and leaning down until they were eye to eye. One point was awarded to her for that act alone before she managed to bag another with her next statement,

"I can assure you Kaiba, that I will more than live up to your shining example."

He'd die before admitting it aloud, but Seto was annoyed once again to find himself slightly disoriented by her gaze. The blue of her eyes was clear and bright, fearlessly meeting his own cloaked, navy with unbridled intensity. It made him catch his breath before her closeness revealed the mortifying fact that her soft brown hair smelled really good.

In true Kaiba Seto form, he would not give his opponent the satisfaction of outwardly affecting him, so he ignored the insane impulse he felt to bury his face in her hair. Instead, the ever-composed, ice-cold businessman favored the loathed girl with a steady, unimpressed, glare.

"Welcome aboard, Mazaki," he said in a tone that hardly conveyed any 'welcoming' sentiments. "Don't disappoint my brother."

"I'll do my best not to scar him for life," she assured him while thankfully withdrawing from his personal space. "But I do have one question before you dismiss me."


"Well since I'm not technically a housekeeper and will basically be babysitting Mokuba the whole summer," she said, "I don't have to follow the dress code anymore do I?"

Seto seized the opportunity to win another point and took his time studying Mazaki's shapely legs. "I don't believe you're following the dress code now."

He called it sweeping victory when the pretty blush infused her cheeks.

"Mokuba's room is two doors down from my office on the left," he finally dismissed her, "You may wake him up."

"I'm on it," she declared turning to leave.

It was only after she left the office that Seto allowed himself to concede he might be in some trouble, followed immediately by the billionth annoying observation regarding Mazaki.

She looked really good walking away in that skirt.


Author's note: Yay! It's finally set up! Time to go rest my fingers.