Author's Note: A side story for fun and laughs. Hope you enjoy! :)
Chapter I: The Deal
Bakura leaned his head back to look at the bleak desert sky above him. Rain was beginning to fall quickly onto his head and wind threatened to tear what was left of him to pieces.
But, none of that mattered. At least he was alive.
Bakura had barely escaped the devastation that the Pharaoh tried to unleash on him. Yami Bakura was a snake. He could not be trapped nor tamed. The Pharaoh was a fool to think he could get rid of him that easily. He was back and better than ever.
Now, he just needed to find his way back to civilization...
Bakura looked distastefully left and then right. The Valley of the Kings is where he was dwelling, and it miles from any shelter. He of all people would know.
Taking refuge in an old tomb was always an option, but he highly doubted their was any food or water waiting for him down there.
His best bet was to start walking and pray the spirits guided him somewhere that had food and slash or water.
Bakura growled as the rain began to pound down on the Egyptian sand harder. He hated everything in the world now. And, the horribly irritating weather was not healing his outlook on society.
After several hours, Bakura found himself in an environment that appeared the same as the rest of the desert but was somehow familiar.
Becoming too exhausted to even come up with a simple plan, the thief decided, for now, to duck into one of the abandoned tombs and wait out the storm raging above Egypt.
Bakura pulled up a trap door and dropped into a random tomb much like an undercover agent. He circled a corner of the tomb a few times before collapsing on the dusty floor. The moonlight from the crack in the trap door above casted a bit of light over Bakura's figure and let some of the weather in, rain dripping from above and into the tomb. Bakura absolutely despised the dripping noise but chose to ignore it.
The tired spirit rested his head on the tomb floor and tried to sleep, but the dripping noise was excessive and the floor felt like ice.
He rose and leaned against the stone wall, trying to entertain himself with anything in the tomb.
His gaze locked onto a shattered mirror a few paces away. Curious, he crawled to it and leaned over the scattered pieces, catching his reflection.
Bakura scowled. His pure white hair was a snarled mess and his ghostly white complexion was eroded away and caked with sand.
Gently, Bakura licked his hands and tried to pat down his mangy hair.
"Aww... 'Kura! You look like a little, homeless kitten!" a voice rang out, making the thief jump.
"Damn, there's no way..." Bakura muttered as winced, his eye twitching. It couldn't be him. There was no way. He knew his luck was at an all-time low but seriously?
"Com'on, 'Kura, don't be like that," the person Bakura refused to identify pleaded, "Look up at me."
Bakura wanted to grow wings and fly away. Far, far away. But, no, no luck would smile on him today.
Reluctantly, Bakura lifted his head, locking his dull blue eyes on Marik.
"There he is!" Marik cheered in a sing-song voice. Bakura wanted to struggle him. The Egyptian boy asked, "How'd you get here?"
"Well," the yami explained, "I was defeated in an ultimate shadow game, narrowly escaped death, and wandered this god-forsaken desert for who knows how long until I crawled into this random cave to lie down and die. And, you're interrupting me, so please, if you don't mind, go away." He leaned to the ground and placed his head back on the frozen, stone floor.
Marik smirked and leaned over Bakura, pulling him up. He held him by his shoulders and shook the thief, yelling, "There's no way I'm gonna let you wait here for death to take you! You've come too far to let that happen! You're Bakura, the ancient and legendary thief king! Start acting like it!"
Marik's little pep talk actually made Bakura somewhat glad that he had found him. It was always nice to have someone singing your praises.
He slapped Marik's hands off his shoulder and dusted himself off saying, "You know, Egyptian Pansy, you may just be right."
"Of course I'm right!" Marik exclaimed, letting the 'Egyptian Pansy' thing slide.
Suddenly, the yami's stomach growled a low moan.
Marik laughed and patted Bakura's back, saying, "Com'on, Kitty, let's go get you some food."
Bakura guessed the 'Kitty' nickname was enough revenge for the 'Egyptian Pansy' thing. Besides, Marik had food. And, Bakura was starving.
"So..." Ishizu tried to make small talk with the spirit, "... You are..."
"Bakura," he picked up and began listing, "Thief King, Stealer of Souls, Master of Shadow Magic, whatever floats your boat, lady."
She glanced skeptically at Marik who was preparing a meal for Bakura in the kitchen. He just shook his head with a smirk.
Bakura was lying on an old bed. It wasn't the most comfortable mattress in the world, he decided, but it was much better than the frozen floor or desolate sands that surrounded this little oasis Marik and his family lived in.
He was shaking a little from the cold, something he deemed unacceptable. Pulling the sheets up to cover more of him, he complained loudly, "I thought you said these blankets were supposed to make me warmer not colder!"
Ishizu sighed and explained, "They're electric blankets. You have to turn them on."
"Oh," the ancient spirit articulated. He picked up the blanket's dial and wondered how in the name of Ra was he supposed to make it work. He began to bang the little devise on the side of the bed.
"No, Bakura, stop!" Ishizu commanded a little louder than necessary. She took the contraption from the yami's hand and began toying with it. Eventually, it began to heat the blanket up.
"Ah," Bakura smiled, but his smile was more sinister than friendly, "That's much better."
Ishizu questioned, "You don't know much about the modern age, do you?"
"On a scale of one to ten on being technological savvy, I'd say I'm a negative twelve," Bakura retorted just to prove her statement.
She nodded as if she understood and left the room. Marik replaced her within a few minutes, carrying a tray of food.
Bakura devoured it quickly, though most of it was fresh fruit, which he despised. He preferred raw meat, often taken right off the bone. But, food was food to Bakura at this point, finally recalling that it had been days since he had nourished himself.
"Aww, looks like the little homeless kitty was hungry," Marik sang in a baby voice.
If Bakura's face wasn't stuffed at that moment, he would have chocked Marik to death with the fruit. And, that was a slow death.
But instead, he didn't answer.
Marik took this rare opportunity of Bakura's generosity to sit down next to him and ask, "So, where are you going from here, Bakura?"
The spirit gulped another large swallow of food before countering dryly, "What do you mean?"
The Egyptian shrugged, stating, "Well, you're back in the modern age, so you kind of need to find a place to stay."
Bakura mulled this over in his mind before questioning, "Can't I just rob a bank and retire comfortably in a condo in Maui?"
Marik chuckled but shook his head. He explained, "Twenty-first century law enforcement would catch you in ten minutes. Face it, 'Kura, you don't know how to survive in the modern times."
"What'cha gonna do? Through me back out into the storm?" Bakura challenged, "You don't have the heart."
"You're right," Marik agreed, "But, I know someone who will take you in."
"Who?" Bakura questioned, crossing his arms with a cocky grin as he thought that there was no one foolish enough on this earth to take him in.
But, he was wrong.
Bakura's face fell.
"No, no, NO, a thousand times NO!"
"Com'on, Bakura, you know Ryou would be happy to have his yami back," Marik promised positively.
"Oh, so if your logic is right, that means you'd also be glad to have your yami live with you?" Bakura challenged daringly.
Marik sighed, "Point taken." But, he persisted, "I'm not Ryou though-"
"Thank Ra for that," Bakura muttered under his breath.
Marik gave him a stern look, then resumed, "- But, Ryou would openly invite you to stay with him."
"Where's my say in this?" Bakura whined.
Marik suddenly grew a wide grin and said, "Tell you what, I'll make you a deal."
Bakura's ears perked up, and he alerted, "I'm listening, so this better be good."
"Oh, it is," Marik confirmed as he explained, "All right. If you don't cause any trouble, you can stay here and I won't call Ryou."
"Define 'trouble'," was Bakura's reply.
Marik laughed, "Just try not to get yourself arrested, throw us into bankruptcy, or set fire to the tomb."
Bakura pouted, "Well, you're no fun."
Marik held up three fingers, stating, "Three strikes. You get three strikes, Bakura. As soon as your chances are up, I'm shipping you off to Ryou's."
That was enough of a threat to make Bakura cancel and consider postponing some of his devious plans.
Marik stood up and put out his hand and said, "Shake my hand to prove that we have a deal."
The spirit glanced down at Marik's tan hand distastefully. He shook his head, whipping his white hair to the side and argued, "I don't want to shake your hand."
"Why not?" Marik inquired.
The truth was, Bakura didn't ever agree. To anything. Agreeing meant he was liable to things, and Bakura didn't want to be. Ever. He lied, "I might catch your Egyptian Pansy disease."
Marik groaned and insisted, "If you don't shake my hand, I'll go write up a contract."
Bakura winced. Contracts were even worse. And, he was pretty sure Marik wasn't kidding when he said he'd go make one.
"Fine," Bakura growled, grabbing Marik's hand and shaking it up and down for moment before returning it to his side where he wiped the 'Egyptian Pansy' germs off on his blanket.
Marik shook his head and walked out of the room, calling behind him, "'Night, 'Kura."
"Uh-huh," Bakura responded, rolling onto his side.
Outside the room, Marik found himself being pulled around the corner by his sister, Ishizu, asking frantically, "Why did you say he could stay here, Marik?"
He smiled which caught Ishizu off guard as he answered, "Two reasons, sister. One, Bakura's my friend. But, the second and more important one is that Bakura is evil and psychotic. He's also a five thousand year old spirit. He won't survive the rest of the week by my calculations and our deal of him being out after three strikes."
"But, don't you worry about him destroying our home in the process of this little deal?" Ishizu's strained voice asked.
Marik glanced into the bedroom Bakura stayed in, the yami now quietly snoring, and told his sister, "Not really. Besides, how much damage can one Kitty do?"
Author's Note: More than you think, Marik… Fun starts next chapter! Review please!