(Bakura's POV)
I lean against the door of this roofless car as Mel-Marik keeps driving through this dense forest, trees stretching hundreds of feet into the air and reducing the mid afternoon sunlight to little speckles scattered across the dirt trail. I don't know where we are, but feel calmer than I should about being stuck in the wilderness with a serial killer. Oh sorry, assassin. Right now I have bigger problems, namely the itching in my arms I'm compelled to scratch every few seconds. Fuck, I need my dope. "Where are we going?" He light a cigarette. "And are we nearly there?"
"I hope so," Marik groans, studying the map.
"The fuck does that mean?"
"See, I've never actually been to America before," he admits, and I widen my eyes. He's dragged me into the middle of nowhere and has no idea where he's going?! "But I do know some things about secret hideaways. Dense forests are great, and areas near lakes or large open space hunting grounds are where people normally have cabins out here. We're approaching a great spot now that meets all the requirements. We'll find a cabin for the night, hopefully there's some supplies and we can head to Canada tomorrow,"
"D'you at least have a plan for when we get there?"
"I"m not a fucking idiot, of course I do,"
(Marik's PoV)
I don't.
I mean, I have the skeleton of something resembling the beginnings of a barely plan in my head. Mainly I just want to avoid Kaiba.
The main thing is money. I can get money transferred over but I need to do it soon or Kaiba will be alerted to my location. Pretty sure not even a helicopter crash could kill his ass. Fucker probably walked away without a scratch. There's no way I'll have enough cash stored away to get Bakura a new ID and take us both to Japan - I was relying on this job for the 3 billion yen, or 5 million bucks.
We hit the goldmine when I turn into a tiny clearing, revealing a well-built wooden cabin with a porch. Some broken windows sure, but larger than I expected and a wood roof, blending it into the ground if a helicopter flies overhead. I park outside.
"What?" Bakura snorts. "This is it?"
"Got any better ideas?" I challenge, grasping his hands and helping him climb out the car.
Inside the cabin is just one room with a sink and a tiny cubicle for a toilet. An old futon lies against the corner. "I ain't fucking sleeping on that!" Bakura growls, scratching his jaw. The sweat on his forehead and his agitation tells me all I need to know.
Digging in my pockets, I pull out a small baggie of meth. "I don't do fucking meth!" Bakura tells me.
"It's all I have,"
"I have stuff," he leans against a large table, pulling his own bag from the lining of his jacket.
"Well I'm gonna go see if there's a good storage bunker or something round the back," he nods and I clamber from the shack, looking around at the littered mess of rotten twigs and crunching Autumn leaves on the forest floor. I wade around the tree-line, searching for a hatch in the floor or a hole in a tree. It's more common to store foo this way than one night think - the wind and freezing ground keeps food fresh. Like natures fridge.
It's past dark when I return - a stash of crackers were in a tree hole farther away from the cabin when I thought. I open the door - it was never locked - and see Bakura passed out on the dirty futon, white hair bunching up around his shoulders. I smile, for he's so beautiful lying peacefully like that. He seems less angular, more delicate. His fluid body wrapped securely like a parcel awaiting me. I slide under the blankets alongside him, and he stirs, eyes opening tiredly.
"Hey," I smile, running a hand through his hair. It's smoother and softer than I thought it'd be, considering.
"Mmmm what time is it?"
"I don't know," I admit.
"Fuck offff," he groans, wriggling away from me. "Your deer are so cold!"
"Maybe you can warm them up?"
"Hmmm," he just hums, turning around and wrapping his arms around me, snuggling his small body into my broad chest. "Mm, goodnight Marik,"
"Goodnight," I kiss him on the forehead. "My Kura,"
*
Why do they always end up asleep?! I have a serious problem with writing them asleep.
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The Assassin and The Thief
FanfictionMarik Ishtar is used to taking out presidents, corporate executives and foreign spies. He's almost offended when his next job is simply whacking a small-time crook in N/E Brooklyn. But when he's offered a 5 million $ payoff, he can't help but wonder...
