Please read and review. Every time I start a story, I always wonder if people are reading it and what they think, and what I've left out. So please take the time to let me know.


Summary: Takes the flawed premise that the Millennium Items can grant the wishes of the heart, and the even more flawed one that High Priest Seto is (or could be) a spirit of the Millennium Rod, and runs with both ideas. Basically, Kaiba's got company, and Yugi and Yami get dragged into the ensuing mess. AU. Occupies the under populated humor/angst category. Oh yeah, yaoi (major pairings: Kaiba/Seto, Yami/Kaiba)

Alternative Timeline: This story starts immediately after Alcatraz and veers off in its own (possibly warped) direction. Kaiba does not go to America, but returns to Domino.

Major Canon Violation Warning: Although (hopefully) everyone stays in-character, the story violates canon in turning the High Priest incarnation of Seto Kaiba into a spirit in the Millennium Rod. (Not to mention giving the Rod to Kaiba in the first place…) It also gives each spirit and host combination (a description that I prefer to yamis and hikaris) their own joint soul room ala the Noa's Arc section of the anime, mainly because they need a place to talk… or whatever….

Names: Seto is used to refer to the High Priest version. Kaiba refers to Seto Kaiba.

Puzzle Note: I'm sticking with canon on this one in that Yami is a spirit in the puzzle. Unlike many stories (including my own) he does not have a separate body in this story.

Style Note: Italics are used to show conversations between hosts and spirits that are taking place in the presence of other people. Conversations between spirits and their hosts that occur when they are alone are not italicized since the purpose of the italics is to show this is a conversation that not everyone can hear.

Chapters 1 & 2 are posted together, mainly because I think it takes until Chapter 2 to get a sense of the story…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Author chooses not to warn.



"I believe that you are, for the moment at least, the rightful guardian of this item," Isis said.

"Hmmph," Kaiba snorted, not bothering with words, as he reached for the ornate box that housed the Millennium Rod.

Battle City was finally over. Isis had asked us to invite Kaiba to a meeting with her at the museum so she could hand over the Millennium Rod. I would have figured that Kaiba was sick of us, and anxious to get on with his latest project, but he had shown up right on time.

"Are you really so surprised that Kaiba acceded to your request?" I heard my aibou's voice in my head.

"No," I admitted. "With anyone else I would say that he came out of friendship. With Kaiba… I guess he figures he owes us."

"For Kaiba, that is friendship," my partner commented quietly.

"It is important that you respect the Item that is being trusted to your care, and believe in its power," Isis added urgently.

"Talk about aiming for the moon," I said to Yami. I heard his laughter in my head.

"I think Kaiba is about to prove your point," Yami answered.

Kaiba sighed.

"Look, you want someone overflowing with belief, give it to the runt over there," he said with a nod in my direction. "You want someone to keep your worthless little trinket in a high security vault, hand it over. It's up to you. I don't give a shit either way."

"It is important that you understand the danger. Do not try to wield it. The Millenium Rod's power is too great for you to control."

"What did she have to go and say that for!" I wailed to my other self.

Yami sighed. "Isis never knew when to simply accept victory in silence."

We waited for the inevitable reaction.

"Are you saying I can't handle this piece of junk?" Kaiba snarled.

"Remember what happened to my brother," Isis warned.

"And you remember... I'm not your weakling of a brother," Kaiba snapped. He whirled from the room, trench coat flying like a cape behind him.

I heard Yami murmur to himself, "I can almost hear the slap of sandals on a stone floor."

"We're in for it now," I said

"I know, aibou. It was a foolish move."

"How long do you think it'll be before he tests the Rod's power?"

"I'd be surprised if he makes it through the night."


I knew what they were thinking. They figured I wouldn't last the day. Well, they were wrong. I made it to 3:00 AM to be exact. In all fairness (not that I felt like being fair) I have to admit if it wasn't for Mokuba and Kaiba Corporation, I wouldn't have lasted the hour.

I had to pick up Mokuba. So I threw the Rod in the backseat. When we reached Kaiba Corporation, I realized leaving a hunk of gold in the car didn't square with my promise to take care of it.

So I carried it to the office, and promptly forgot about it again. After all, it wasn't like I didn't have plenty of distractions – work being the least of them.

I remembered the last time I had seen Yugi – or rather the part of him that only seemed to appear when he dueled. Yugi and his band of nitwits could give him a name, could call him Yami, all they wanted… it wasn't going to make him real… except late at night, when you're too tired to discipline your thoughts. He was real enough then.

I hadn't seen either version since Yami had stood atop my Duel tower at Alcatraz, and dared me to attack him with all my anger and hatred; to unleash the ultimate dragon that I would have sworn was the living embodiment of my rage.

And Yami had not only withstood my anger… he had dispersed it, just as surely as he had defused my monster. Oh not entirely, of course… but for the first time I could see beyond my fury. I could see that my dragon was more than the outward expression of my rage… that he carried my dreams into the future as well.

I had tried to destroy my past and failed. Maybe making peace with it (or ignoring it – it came to the same thing) wouldn't work any better, but I was willing to give it a shot. I had a company to run and a brother to care for. For the first time I realized… I had a life to live – and it was time to get on with it… without complications, for once.

I sat in my office pretending to work, until it was time for Mokuba and I to go home. I carried the box inside the house, threw it on my bed, hung out with Mokuba, and forgot about it all over again.

It wasn't until it was 3:00 AM, and I was possibly tired enough to get some sleep, that I saw it – and my anger returned.

I stared at the ornate box, remembering Isis' warnings. I didn't believe in them, but I wasn't going to be afraid of a stick either – gold or not. And I wasn't going to tamely submit to her commands.

I don't know what Yugi was thinking of – bringing in an incompetent duelist like Isis to lecture me. Didn't Yugi know I would have done anything he asked, just because he was the one doing the asking? He had saved Mokuba. Didn't he know what that meant to me? And if there really was another person in that body (which was too little to house one person, much less two)… after all the times we'd dueled, after all we'd been through – did he still think so little of me that he thought I'd refuse? All these years after Death-T… did he think I still had so little honor? I thought things had changed more than that. Well, fuck him.

Furious now, and spoiling for a fight, I threw off the lid, reached inside the box, grabbed the sucker, and yelled, "Anybody in there? Come out and show yourself!"

Just as I thought… nothing happened.

I was glad that was settled.

I tossed the Rod onto the night-table next to my bed, and got into bed, myself. I looked at it, groaned and moved it into bed with me. I'd find a safer place for the hunk of junk in the morning.

I'd barely fallen asleep before opening my eyes again. Of course I recognized the body leaning over me. It was mine. I seemed to have acquired a doppelganger in my sleep. I looked closer. Well, a slightly inferior copy, actually. His hair was slightly lighter, his skin slightly darker. And I like to sleep in boxers. In seemed my inexact duplicate preferred nothing at all.

Why go to all the trouble of dreaming up myself, only to have him be slightly different? I frowned. The sheer unpredictableness of dreams never failed to annoy me, but I had learned the hard way that trying to control them was a surefire recipe for turning dreams into nightmares. "It's just a dream. It'll be over soon enough," I said.

"It's your dream… so nothing will happen that you won't enjoy," my double answered as he leaned down and kissed me.

Oh… so it was going to be that kind of dream.

His mouth was lightly teasing mine, until I made the mistake of opening it. Then he really got to work. He played with my tongue, enticing it to join his in a play-fight or a dance that had us both breathing heavily. He left my mouth and quick as a snake, zoomed in on my nipples (Well, it made sense that he'd know how sensitive they were.)

He was sucking and biting (also knowing I've never minded a little pain mixed with my pleasure. After all, sex like anything else, is a contact sport.)

I'm actually sounding a lot calmer than I was. At the time I was arching into his touch, waiting with anticipation for his next move. The one semi-coherent thought in my head was: Damn I'm good. I really should get out more.

Even in my dreams, I've never been on the bottom (and I pushed aside the thought of the one glaring exception to that rule.) But since this was me on top as well, I guess that made a difference. It was certainly taking the expression, 'go fuck yourself' to a whole new level.

He had moved down my body to take me in his mouth. And as he violated my personal space in a way I'd allowed no one to do before, it occurred to me how good his hand felt, how intense the sensations were. And how I wanted more than his hand. I looked up at him.

"It's your dream," he repeated. "We can do whatever you want."

I was right. Having him inside of me, all the way, was a lot better than his hand. But even after we had both duly screamed our fool heads off, even after we had both released the expected amount of bodily fluids… I hoped he didn't think… even in a dream… that the matter was ending here. I hooked my legs around his, rolled him over, started to repeat his motions. Now I was the one attacking his nipples. Now I was the one watching him writhe and buck beneath me, my hand working him like a puppeteer.

I looked down, for the first time seeing surprise in his eyes – at my actions, at his growing arousal.

"We're not done here," I smirked. "As you keep reminding me – it's my dream."