Where's the Tan?

Ch. 1 The Tan Is Gone!

Sunlight filtered through the thick maroon curtains in the Egyptian's room, hitting Marik square in the face. He stretched and opened his eyes; oh, did he have a good night's sleep or what? He felt completely rested and restored, not to mention he had dreamed up a few sinister ways to destroy the Pharaoh. It was a beautiful morning without a cloud in sight, and Mr. Tweetums and his siblings sang him sweet morning greetings outside his window.

He sat at the edge of his bed and stretched again. Bakura must've already been awake, from the smells of cooking bacon wafting in from the kitchen. No matter; he was feeling particularly evil this morning. He was going to take an evil shower, then have some evil breakfast, and give his partner in crime a good morning kiss…an evil one.

Marik stood and crossed to the adjoining bathroom, shedding his night clothes as he went. He turned on the water in the shower and let it warm before he slipped out of his boxers and jumped in. He stood directly under the spigot, letting his hair get wet before turning around and letting the warm beads pelt his back. He was content just standing there forever, but he had many things to do today.

He reached over and grabbed the shampoo bottle, squirting some of the soapy liquid onto his palm. And that's when he saw it. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he was looking at his own hand with no other distractions, he saw it. His hand looked like his hand…that's why it was his hand. The same lines on his palm, the same well-manicured nails, the same elegant long fingers. But the pigmentation didn't look quite right.

It was…pale. Almost as pale as Bakura.

Marik's breath caught in his throat and he closed his eyes, dropping his hand to catch himself as he started to fall backwards. He was not pale. He was not pale.

"I am not pale," he repeated in a whisper, looking down at his chest. Liquid moonlight and two perky nipples stared back at him.

He swallowed a scream and turned around, twisting at the hips to look at his butt.

He almost fainted at the sight.

He couldn't be pale. He didn't look good pale. This was unacceptable.

Jumping out of the shower, he raced over to the mirror, pressing his face close, as if the close proximity would make the tan come back.

He was looking at his face, alright. Same gracefully slanted Egyptian eyes, same pouty lips, same timid nose, same blonde hair. But his skin. It was the color of snow, or paper, or sugar. He looked sick with this color. Deathbed worthy.

Suddenly remembering how he tanned his backside when he was younger, he took both hands and slapped them across his cheeks, over and over, one after the other, until his cheeks were red and throbbing and tears poured from his eyes. He stared at his reflection incredulously, not believing this tanning method wasn't working. He wasn't even the least bit brown! Just pale, ugly peach and an angry red flush.

"B-Bakura!" He found himself yelling after a minute of shocked silence. "Bakura! Bakura, get your pasty British ass in here!"

He felt faint. Maybe he should go to the hospital. Have a nice visit with a nice man in a clean white coat. He'd get a prescription for something. It was hard being a girly anime villain, after all. So maybe he was just stressed. Or crazy.

"Bakura!" He cried again, his voice shrieking like a girl's. He had to grab the sink to keep his balance when he felt his knees sway under him as a wave of nausea crash into his stomach.

"Marik?" The door opened and the head of a disgruntled Bakura popped inside. "What is so bloody impor…Why are you naked?"

"Is that seriously the first thing you noticed?" Marik snapped, still sane enough to get angry with his perv of a partner.

"Uhm…new hair?"

"My tan, Bakura!"

Bakura paused in the doorway for a second, looking Marik up and down before gasping. "Oh my gods, you're right!"

"Yeah no frig I'm right."

Bakura took a few steps closer, raising his hands helplessly. "Your tan is-"

"Don't say it."

Marik turned away, suddenly ashamed. Not because he was naked for all the fan girls to see and screen capture, but because he was naked without his tan. So naked that actually being naked was about twenty times less embarrassing. Which was seriously over dramatic in my opinion.

"How did this happen?" Bakura asked, coming to stand by his partner.

Marik closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know. I just got into the shower and it was gone."

The thief hummed. "How is that even possible?"

"I bet someone stole it!"

"Who would want to steal your tan?"

Marik thought for a second. "I bet it was the Pharaoh."

"Marik."

"Just think about it, Bakura. He's finally tired of us trying to destroy him."

"Marik."

"We've stolen his leather pants, eaten his favorite cereal, tried to pushed him off a boat, mind controlled Joey-"

"Actually, I had no part in that-"

"-and rearranged his sock drawer. He has to want revenge by now."

"Marik."

"Even though we're the ones trying to get revenge…"

"MARIK."

"Yes, Bakura?"

The albino duelist was able to suppress the urge to strangle the Egyptian. "Have you forgotten the Pharaoh has his own tan?"

"WHAT?"

"Yes, though it is stuck 5,000 years in the past. The fact remains that he has one. Why would he want yours?"

Marik stared into Bakura's serious brown eyes, and suddenly it was all too much for him. He shut his eyes, let his legs buckle, and fell face-first into Bakura's waiting arms.

.~.~.~.

Bakura couldn't believe his eyes. Out of the five thousand years he'd been alive, he'd never seen anything like this. A deep Egyptian tan, gone over night? How was that even possible?

Could it be the work of a ninja?

No, Marik's idea had been silly, but that was just stupid.

Bakura gazed down at Marik's sleeping figure, trying to think up a logical way Marik could go from being tan and sexy to pale and still pretty sexy. There was skin bleaching, of course, and a few diseases could alter skin pigmentation, but could any sickness affect poor Marik this much over night? And Bakura was positive Marik would never bleach on purpose. Besides that, he couldn't smell any bleach. What else could there be?

Bakura's eye twitched. Could he have become a vampire?

Pulling up the boy's upper lip, Bakura sighed with relief when he saw his teeth remained fang-free. It was bad enough the boy had bought that horrible vampire game, Bakura didn't want to deal with any odd eating habits.

Bakura sighed again, moving his hand up to rest on his partner's forehead. After Marik had passed out, Bakura and dried him and dressed him, laid him down on the couch and covered him with a blanket. He was severely flushed and his temperature was climbing fast. Bakura had to admit he felt sorry for him…

Deciding he could do nothing for Marik just standing around, he pushed off the couch and went into the bedroom they shared, looking for anything might give him a clue as to where the tan went. The bed was unmade, there was nothing on the floor except a few clothes and a few books, and the windows were locked from the inside and the curtains drawn. He checked under the bed, but there was nothing but a few storage totes. He went into the bathroom and started to search in the same fashion. The only thing out of place was Marik's hairbrush, which had fallen on the floor. Bakura scooped and picked it up, staring dejectedly at it. He wasn't getting anywhere. Maybe it was really ninja this time. There wasn't much else that could get into a locked room, steal a person's skin tone and leave completely unnoticed. Unless one of his friends had an idea. He went through the list of everyone he knew. Pegasus probably knew, but he really didn't feel like sitting through the Spice Girls movie to get the information. Rex and Weevil were just perverted idiots. Lumis and Umbra pissed him off. No, everyone pissed him off. Dan Green was somewhere doing Dan Green things, and Bakura didn't know how he could get into contact with the Evil Teddy Bear. Maybe Zorc had some ideas…

He went into the kitchen and dialed the monster's number, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder. It rang five times, and Bakura was about to hang up, but then it clicked on the other's end and Zorc's voice came on the line. "H-hello?"

Bakura had been pacing, but now he stopped in his tracks. His ex's voice sounded…nervous… "Zorc?"

"Bakura?" The shaky tone was replaced by a stronger one. "What do you want?"

Bakura was so miffed by Zorc's attitude he forgot to ask if anything was wrong. "Well, it's about Marik."

"What about him?"

"Well, I'm afraid he's lost his tan."

"Finally fucked it clean off him, huh?"

Bakura snorted. "Never thought of that one."

"So why did you call? In case you didn't know, I don't really care about your girlfriend."

"He's not my girlfriend! And he's your ex-wife. One would think you'd care just a smidge for your divorcee."

"Funny how he can't be your girlfriend but he can be my ex-wife."

"Zorc," Bakura snapped his finger. "Focus."

"Right…oh what?"

"On Marik's tan."

"What about it?"

"It's gone missing."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Indeed." Bakura resisted the urge to smack his head against the wall. "Anyway, I'm calling to see if you know of anything that could completely obliterate a tan overnight."

"Besides fucking it clean off?"

"Besides fucking it clean off."

"Hmm," Zorc hummed, and Bakura could almost hear him thinking. "There was this news story I saw a few days ago about a tan thief."

"A tan thief?"

"Yeah. So this kid was really tan and really pale and had no face and he was always being made fun of for it. He went a little crazy and developed some eating disorders down the line."

"Get to the tan thief part."

"I was, I was… So there was this really sexy Egyptian guy with a nice midriff making a movie a little while back. When this guy didn't get to be in it and had to make his own instead, he swore he would steal the tan off of all the sexy tan people that ever crossed his path again."

Bakura's heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who Zorc was talking about. "This was a news story?"

"Yeah. The guy's been stealing a lot of famous tans. He's on the FBI's most wanted list."

Bakura growled into the receiver. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Dramatic effect."

"Does anyone know where he is?"

"All they know is that it's cold and snowy wherever he is."

Oh great. Canada. "Well, thanks Zorc."

"You're welcome. And tell Marik I hope he gets his tan back soon."

"I will. Goodbye."

"Bye bye~"

Bakura hung up the phone before Zorc's voice could haunt him. But he did not regret calling. He knew who had Marik's tan, he had a good idea as to where he was, and he knew exactly how he was going to get it back.

.~.~.~.

Zorc's hand shook as he hung up the phone. He was caked with sweat all the way to the head of his dragon penis. Lord, was it uncomfortable. He tried to take a few deep calming breaths, but his throat shook with unshed tears.

"Very good, Zorc," the cruel, yet seductive voice said from where the owner stood.

Zorc twitched. "I did what you asked. I lied to Bakura. Now let Cody go."

The dark-eyed woman held the teen up by his collar, running long black nails across his cheek and up and down his throat. "You held your part of the deal, so I guess I can't kill him…yet." The woman tossed the boy to the ground as If he were just a ragdoll. Zorc bent and scooped up his identical twin, cradling him as he glared at the cloaked woman.

"Goodbye, Zorc," she laughed dryly, slapping him on the penis before lifting her fingers to her mouth and whistling loudly. A motorcycle rolled up outside the house, the driver in dark clothes and a black motorcycle helmet. The woman jumped on and snuggled into the driver's back. They zoomed away, the distant cry of "Let's play a children's card game! Yohohoho!" ringing merrily in Zorc's ears.

Well, I finally got off my ass and did something. Too bad it's nothing important. Just a Yu-Gi-Oh So anyway, this is crack…Yay! It also has a lot of YGOTAS jokes and references, and contains weird crap. Yeah.

Warnings: Crack, yaoi, language, real life people…? OOCness, too.