Yu-gi-oh

Disclaimer: I don’t own Yugioh, or the characters there in. I just borrowed some of the characters. Rated: NC-17

To Serve and Protect

Chapter 4

[thoughts]

Seto woke up to a sudden creepy feeling that something was wrong. He listened when he heard the small whimpering sound again he realized that it was coming in his open bed room door. He’d never shut it or the door to the suit in case Mokuba woke in the night and called him. Now he was hearing . . . something.

He got up and grabbed his robe, shoving his arms into the sleeves and his feet into slippers he went in search of the sound.

He stood in the hall and listened for a moment when it came again he located the source in Joey’s suit. He tapped gently on the door and listened.

“No . . . won’t . . . get offa me . . . too tight.”

Seto opened the door and hurried to Joey who was twisting on his bed as if fighting someone who was holding him down. He was sweating heavily and mumbling swear words and threats.

“Wheeler . . . hey . . . Joey, wake up. Come on. Up . . . It’s ok. No one is after you.”

Seto was suddenly flat on his back on the bed with Joey’s hand’s on his neck. He got his fists between Joey’s arms and knocked them away then rolled over, catching the still groggy man by surprise and pinning him down. Joey blinked then shuddered as he realized that he wasn’t being assaulted in prison. He palmed the sleep out of his eyes and started shaking.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck . . . fuck. I hate that. I feel like a two-year-old. Seto.”

Seto just sat up and wrapped his arms around Joey, holding him in a rather impersonal but firm embrace. Joey sighed and leaned back against Seto who gathered up the blanket and wrapped it around them both, offering a still shivering Joey the comfort of his warmth.

After a while Joey stopped shivering and tried to sit up, pulling away from Seto, who allowed him to gather the rags of his dignity around himself and do so.

“Man, that was a bad one. Thanks for the . . . whatever it was. I’m sorry I woke you. I don’t generally make that much noise.”

Seto just got up, shrugged, and started folding the blanket.

“I’m use to listening for Mokuba. He used to have nightmares sometimes. You ok now?”

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m gonna take a shower, wash off the sweat. You go on back to bed now.”

Joey hid his embarrassment by heading for the shower. Seto watched him walk away and wondered what could have given a hard ass like this Joey Wheeler nightmares. He shivered once and went back to bed.

Joey took a quick shower and slipped on a robe. He knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight. A glance at the clock told him it wasn’t that bad, it was four in the morning.

Wandering into the kitchen, he started to make coffee. The shiny new coffee pot surprised him. He hadn’t expected Seto to worry about whether he had his morning coffee or not. But there it was on the counter. It was one of those double pots that made regular coffee on one side and espresso on the other, with a steamer attachment and everything. He rummaged around in the cupboard until he found a canister labeled coffee and opened it. Inside he found coffee pods for the espresso side of the machine, rummaging farther he found plain ground coffee. Deciding in favor of regular coffee, he set the machine to brewing and spent the time it took hunting around for creamer and sugar. He took his coffee virgin but he knew that Seto, when he drank coffee, took it light and sweet.

His explorations yielded some interesting results. There was still a box of pocky in the cupboard, Seto didn’t like sweets particularly, so that had to be Mokuba’s. There was all kinds of packaged stuff. Noodles, rice curry, soups and such. But nothing fresh except salad fixings. The freezer was full of frozen dinners and individually wrapped cuts of meat. Seto was so obviously not a cook, he wondered where half of the stuff came from. [Mokuba must cook a lot more than Seto]

Joey poured his coffee and took it into the main room. The sky line of Tokyo was glowing in the darkness and filling the wide patio windows with points of light. He leaned against the wall and gazed out, sipping at his coffee and imagining Mai sleeping in her apartment and Yugi and Tristan playing Duel Monsters across the kitchen table, arguing about life points and card attributes. He wondered idly if he’d ever get back with his friends again.

After contemplation had made his stomach churn, or maybe it was lack of food, Joey decided to see what he could come up with for breakfast. He returned to the kitchen and refilled his coffee, then he started a serious search for breakfast. After a concerted search he realized that it was going to be a traditional breakfast or nothing, so he started the miso and rice. [Nice Seto, no bacon, eggs, or bread.]

“Morning Joey.“ Joey nearly jumped out of his skin. He gasped and whirled around into a defensive posture to see Seto standing in the door dressed in jeans and a shirt. “Easy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Geeze. Seto damnit, make a noise, will ya. I nearly swallowed my tongue.” Joey turned on the kettle and put the tea pot on the table. “There’s only miso and rice for breakfast. I couldn’t even find an egg. If you’d do some grocery shopping I could cook for us. We can’t eat out this much, it’s not safe.”

“Mo’ did most of the cooking. I can’t do much more than grill steaks, nuke potatoes and do up a box mix. If you want groceries, make a list and Torrance will fill it.”

Seto accepted the bowl of rice and cup that Joey handed him. When he turned back around, he found Joey ladling up miso, so he held out his hands for the bowls, placed them on the table and got out of Joey’s way as he rinsed the tea pot out with hot water then filled it. Putting the pot back on the table, he finished setting it and took his place.

While they waited for the tea to brew Seto divided up the paper. Handing Joey the sports section he was surprised when he just set it aside and reached for the police section instead. He refrained from teasing with an effort. This Joey might not take to a smart remark about baseball like the old Wheeler would. They were getting along well enough that Seto didn’t want to disturb the status quo.

“Seto, I don’t want to seem like I’m criticizing you but you rely on this Torrance way too much. There’s no groceries because you didn’t leave a note. My clothes aren’t washed. I’m going to want that blue shirt soon. If you don’t leave a note, it don’t get done. I know you’re too busy to mess with it . . .”

“Mokuba took care of a lot of this stuff. Now that he’s gone, I’ll have to take over. If you need something that you don’t have . . . ”

Joey held up a hand and shook his head. “I’m not leaving a note for Torrance. I’ll take care of my business myself. I know how to do laundry. I’ll figure out the machine myself. If that’s ok.”

“It’s ok. If you don’t want Torrance taking care of your stuff, I’ll . . . “

“Don’t . . .”

“leave a note. Damnit.”

Joey sighed. He wanted to see this Torrance guy. Something was going on here that he was uncomfortable with. This guy came in when no one was here and did who knew what. Then left.

“Seto, I’m really uncomfortable with this. It kinda gives me the creeps. You ever actually see this Torrance guy?”

Seto paused, cup half way to his mouth. Had he ever seen Torrance? Who had hired him? He couldn’t remember a time when Torrance hadn’t been in the background providing clean laundry and picking up his messes. Groceries appeared in the cupboards shortly after a list found its way to the table. Tea and coffee, rice and noodles were just there, whether asked for or not.

“I don’t remember ever seeing him. I don’t remember a time he wasn’t around either. Call Roland and find out will you?”

“You damn betcha I will. Seto, you’re going to have to make some changes. Mokuba . . . damnit, is he included in these letters? Or did you just send him off to college to protect him from winding up collateral damage?”

“He graduated early. And I didn’t want him caught in the cross fire. He doesn’t really know how bad it is. He read some of the letters before I caught him hacking my computer.” Joey blew tea. “Yeah. He’s as good as I was at that age. Not better than I am, but really good. It’s a challenge to keep up with him.”

Joey sighed, he’d managed to plow through one box of letters and had separated that box into real threats and ‘loonies’, there were only four letters that made it through his strict filter. Those made him very nervous.

“Look, Joey. I don’t want you wasting your time reading all that trash. Everything has been scanned into the data base.”

Joey shook his head. “I can’t rely on that damn thing. The search engine’s really weird. Who wrote that stupid thing? And don’t tell me you did because you’re too smart to have written that piece of trash.”

Seto brought his laptop and set it up on the table. He finished his breakfast and started the search engine. It beeped and then, when Seto started a search, he saw what Joey was talking about. It refused words and generally refused to be helpful.

“Wheeler, I don’t know where this came from, but it is trash and that’s being kind. I’ll have to write a new one . . . damnit. I won’t have time for two or three days. I don’t work on Sunday. Mokuba and my doctor conspired to get me to promise not to. You know I don’t break my word unless it’s a matter of life or death, and this isn’t.”

Joey had brought his computer to the tale too and connected them with a USB cable. “Can you down load your copy of the program or will you let me start from scratch?”

“Scratch would be better. If you want to download the data base, you’re free to do anything you want to with it. It’s your computer after all. If you mess it up too bad, I’ll fix it for you.”

Joey disappeared into the depths of his computer, downloaded the data, and for the next three hours typed, stared into space and grumbled. Seto watched for a while, then he poured Joey more coffee, took the last of the tea into the main room and settled himself to watch news and business reports.

Joey finally finished his program and set it to searching. He didn’t like the results at all. Someone had a real grudge against Seto. It had to be someone in the company, and fairly close to Seto. Not an executive, the interference with the computer meant that it had to be someone competent with computers.

“Seto, I finished the search. You haven’t fired someone for personal reasons have you?” Seto just shook his head. “Didn’t think so, but I had to ask. This guy is computer savvy. Have there been any attacks on the company computers that caused . . . no, that wouldn’t be it. I’m stymied.”

“Wheeler, it’s Sunday remember. If you send me a report with all your suspicions, I’ll see what security can do about it.”

“Seto, you’ve got . . . fuck. Never mind.“ Joey stomped off. This keeping things from Seto was driving him crazy. If he told Seto what was going on he was sure to have one of his famous temper tantrums and then they’d never find the mole s/he would go so far under ground they’d never dig them out. Then whoever it was would just show up later. These people had unusual patience and that made them especially dangerous. They could disappear for months, even years.

Seto eyed Joey’s retreating back with annoyance, he was just as hot tempered as ever and didn’t show much improvement in his judgment either. This was going to be hard, especially since Joey’s self confidence had taken a real beating. He kept interrupting himself like he wanted to say something but was sure it wouldn’t be acceptable.

Joey, meanwhile, headed to the hidden second floor of the apartment, where he’d found a complete gym. He spent the next two hours working out and finally exercised himself into exhaustion. He’d spent hours in his cell doing pushups and other exercises, so the work out on the machines didn’t wear him out as much as he’d hoped it would. The only thing that could stop his mind from scrambling around like a rat in a cage was to wear himself out. This case was going to be the last or he was going to have to quit. He couldn’t take much more of this.

Seto wondered where Joey had gotten off to so he went in search of him. He had decided he wanted to go look at a motorcycle. He’d been planning to get one for a while but the Letter Man had put those plans on hold. They were off hold, as of now. He was tired of worrying about the man.

“Wheeler, I’m going to buy a motorcycle.” Seto did a double take as he realized that Joey was soaked in sweat and panting. “How long have you been on that treadmill?”

Joey looked at the timer on the control panel. “This cycle? Five minutes.”

“Damn, you’re in bad shape if you’ve only been walking at that speed for five minutes.”

“I been runnin’. Ten minutes at two mph to warm up and another ten to cool off. I got ten minutes cool down. I’d appreciate it if you could wait for me to finish. I don’t want to be stiff.”

Seto shrugged. He could wait. As he idled around the gym he realized that most of the equipment had been used, smirking he went to the main computer, looking for ammo in the sniping attack he was going to mount. He sat at the desk and punched up the data. He felt slightly dizzy as he examined the information. Joey had been exercising for almost three hours at an intensity that was inhuman. The data on his treadmill session alone made his jaw drop. He’d walked for ten minutes gradually increasing the tempo until he was jogging at an impressive pace of ten miles an hour. Not much for a car but hellish for a man to keep up for an hour.

“Son of a bitch, Wheeler. Are you trying to kill yourself? That pace . . . you planning to run a marathon. And the weigh you’ve been lifting. You’re insane.”

“No, just bored. I got in the habit inside. There’s not that much to do, so I got started working out and boxing. If you want a good body guard they better have a good body.”

Joey wiped his chest and shoulders down with a towel. He took another absent-minded swipe at his face. Mumbling sourly, he reached to his left forearm. Seto jerked slightly, even here he was armed. Joey pulled the knife from the sheath and started to chop off a lock of hair.

“Hey, don’t do that! You look ragged enough as it is. Is that how you always cut your hair?”

“Most of my life. When I was yakuza, I got nice cuts from one of the whores. In prison I just cut it off with scissors, when I was allowed them.”

Seto snarled, “Wheeler, I don’t know how you can be so calm about it. You were framed. I know it, you know it. I don’t understand why you aren’t more eager to be cleared.”

Joey pinned Seto with a hard look, sheathing his knife he snarled “Why? Is it going to give me back four years of my life? Restore my innocence. Make me something . . . aw, fuck. Just let it go.”

Seto blew up. “Damnit, Wheeler, I knew you were a dog, a loser, and a fool. You’ll never be anything more than a punk. You’re a quitter. You haven’t got the guts to do more than hang around greatness. How even that wimp Muto could stomach you is beyond me. You make me sick.”

Joey had flinched at the first words and, as Seto ranted, he just hunched in on himself more and more. If he wasn’t careful he’d do something both he and Seto would regret. And he’d wind up out on the street. He couldn’t afford to let his temper go.

Instead of punching Seto, which he very much wanted to do, Joey punched the heavy bag. He slugged it with all the force of his anger behind a fist hardened in fights from alley ways to prison yards. The bag didn’t survive the impact. Seto gaped but wisely refrained from comment.

“You want to go bike shopping? Give me fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed.” Joey gathered Seto’s shirt carefully in his hand. Pulling Seto close, he hissed. “Do not ever call me a dog. Do not get in my face.” He pushed Seto away with a short shove and a flip of his hand.

Seto shuddered, the look in Joey’s eyes made him feel cold chills, like icy footed ants crawling down his spine. “Ugh. Wheeler, fifteen minutes or I leave without you.”

Ten minutes later Seto was trying to get the elevator to move. Joey sauntered into the uncooperative device and snickered. The key dangling from his finger made Seto snarl.

“Not going anywhere without this. I locked it last night and I’ll lock it every night and every time we leave the apartment.”

Seto made a snatch for the key but Joey flipped it into his clenched fist with a flick of his fingers.

“Na, na. Don’t have a spasm. I’ll . . .”

The smack of a palm on flesh startled Seto. Joey never even turned a hair, although his fingers twitched slightly. He just curled his lip and turned to put the key in the control panel. Turning the lock to on, he punched the button labeled “G.”

Seto felt slightly ill. He’d always said that violence was the last resort of the ignorant. He’d never actually struck anyone except in self defense classes before. Now he was standing in an elevator with a stinging palm and a surly, sullen Joey.

“Wheeler . . . I . . . “

“Seto. Shut the fuck up. Do not talk to me. You want to smack me around, that’s ok. But don’t slap me like a fucking infant then insult me by apologizing like that makes’ it all right.”

Seto bit his lip, this was not going well. He hated to admit that he’d lost his temper enough to hit Joey. It was bad enough when he got verbal with him. He was disgusted with himself. He knew Joey needed this job enough to put up with mistreatment, but that was no reason to actually do so.

Joey stood next to Seto, fuming. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to stay close to Seto to accomplish his assignment, he’d leave now. But he hadn’t failed an assignment yet and he didn’t intend to now just because Kaiba Seto was an immature, spoiled, jerk who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

The slap hadn’t hurt that much, he’d been slapped harder by his mother. What hurt was that he couldn’t retaliate in any way, he had to take it and eat his fury. One day soon he was going to choke on it.

They stood in the elevator in uncomfortable silence until it reached the garage.

Joey took the key out of the elevator and started to tuck it into his pocked. Seto held out his hand for it and when Joey went ahead and put it in his pocket, closed his hand into a fist. He stuffed his fist into his pocket and strode to the car fuming.

Joey followed without comment, his feelings for Seto were so ambivalent his head was spinning.

Seto settled in the back seat and watched as Joey sat stiffly on the jump seat keeping his eyes on the floor. He wondered what he might see if Joey looked at him just now. He’d have been surprised to see a forlorn glint along with a pained sadness.

Joey sat and fumed. This was the it that was it. He was finishing this assignment and going on vacation. He wondered idly how much combined time he really had. He knew it was a lot and Tanaka-san had said that he could take as much of it as he wanted after this assignment. He was seriously thinking about taking all of it, and seeing about some intensive counseling. He’d nearly pulled his knife on Seto twice in an hour. If it kept up this way, he was going to be up on murder charges.

“Joey, I really . . . I’m . . . damnit, will you please give me the key to the elevator. I’ll be the one going in first. I should have it. You can’t watch our backs and turn on the elevator at the same time.”

Seto started to say something else but was cut short by the key hitting him in the chest. Joey was still studying the carpet like it held the secrets of the ages.

“So. . . . when we get back . . . do you want to duel? I’m sure you didn’t get much chance to duel . . . in America. I. . .”

“Drop it, Kaiba. I haven’t dueled since the regionals just before graduation. I’m not even sure where my deck is.”

Seto was visibly shocked. Didn’t know where his deck was? That was bad. He’d been so proud of that deck. He’d worked after school jobs and collected cans and bottles to buy the cards he couldn’t win, and now he didn’t know where it was?

“I remember every card you had. If you can’t find your original deck, I’ll give you the cards from my trunk.”

“No thanks. I don’t care for it anymore. I kinda lost interest. I just don’t have the heart for it anymore.”

Joey never even looked at Seto. Every time he dueled all he could see was Yugi smiling at him when he’d made an especially good move. It hurt more than he could stand. If he couldn’t make it up with Yugi he’d have lost something . . . some part of himself that would leave a hole in his heart.

Seto watched Joey clench both his fists and his jaw like he was in extreme pain. Every time he made any attempt to be a friend to Joey all he did was cause him distress of one sort or another. He wasn’t sure whether he should leave him alone, apologize again, or what.

Joey turned a still wrathful gaze on Seto and snarled, “Ok. Spit it out before it chokes you.”

He was stunned when Seto took a deep breath and started apologizing again. “Look, Wheeler. I really don’t know what came over me. I don’t go around hitting the help. It’s not civilized, for one thing. And really. Having a body guard who’s mad at me makes me worry. But that’s not the reason I’m sorry. It was just wrong. This whole thing has me more on edge that I like to admit. Please? Help a fellow out here, I’m foundering.”

“Yeah and goin’ down for the third time. At least you didn’t have me whipped. Not that I’d let you get away with that anyway.” Joey turned to look out the window and missed the look on Seto’s face completely. Seto could only wonder if he’d ever get warm again, the constant shock of cold chills and stark fury was beginning to fray at his nerves.

~*~

The salesman was extolling the merits of an antique Indian with all the fervor of a desperate man. His boss had bought the disaster in a lot of repossessed machines. It had been abused by the former owner and wasn’t worth half what it should have been. If he could unload it on this rich, ignorant person, he would get a good commission and a pat on the back from his boss.

Joey strolled over, took one look at the bike and said idly “Buy that and you’ll regret it. Make him start it. If he can.”

The sales man nodded, gave Joey a dirty look, and tried to oblige. He mounted the bike and looked for the key. When he found it, he turned the ignition on and looked for the starter.

“No starter . . . it’s a kicker. Here. Let me” Joey realized that the man had no idea, so he urged him off the bike and got on himself.

When Joey racked the starter the bike coughed to life with a roar and a cloud of blue smoke. It stuttered, started to die and, when Joey reset the choke, began to idle. Unfortunately for Mr. Suzuki, Joey could hear the valves rattling and the lifters clicking.

“Piece of junk.” Joey turned up his nose. “You want American iron that’s fine, but you might want to consider a new Harley. Some of the Kawasaki’s are really good and Yamaha has a great line of street legal racers that’ll scare you half to death. I don’t like Honda’s much. I hate working on them. But it’s your ass on it, so it’s up to you.”

Seto eyed the Indian for a moment then made up his mind. “I don’t think I’ll waste any more time on this. If Joey says it’s junk, it probably is. If you haven’t got anything better than that I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

“Oh please, Mr . . . I didn’t catch the name. “

“Because I didn’t throw it. It’s Kaiba.” Seto braced himself for the spate of apologizing and groveling that was sure to follow. He wasn’t wrong. Mr. Suzuki nearly bumped his nose on his knees, he bowed so low. But the look he shot Joey was just as dirty as the first one.

“Look at me like that again and I’ll dig your eyes out of your head with a spoon. You were trying to cheat him. That bike isn’t worth what you’re asking. It goes south under acceleration and it’ll dump. If I let him buy it I wouldn’t be a very good body guard, would I now.”

Poor Mr. Suzuki turned white, then red, then a shade of puce that clashed with his shirt. When Joey straightened his jacket lapels and he saw the tattoo around his finger, he excused himself so suddenly that Seto snickered.

“Not funny. He’ll sell that piece of trash to someone else and maybe get them killed. “

Seto shook his head. “No, he won’t. I’ll talk to the owner. Right now though, we need a new salesman.”

They walked around for a while Seto hoping to make up with Joey and Joey trying to keep from snapping and snarling at Seto. He was dithering over cycles like it was the decision of a life time.

With his money it didn’t make much difference what he bought, if he didn’t like it he could always buy another. Finally Joey couldn’t take it anymore.

“Damnit Seto, pick one. That one’s a good deal. This one is fast. The one over there is good for a beginner. You’ve got so much money, why not take one of each? Let’s just get out of here. All this glass is making me nervous.”

Seto had started to glare at Joey but he managed to keep it to mildly annoyed instead. “Yeah, and a nervous Wheeler is . . .”

“A very dangerous one.” Seto turned to see a heavy set man in a three-piece suit bowing to him. The man turned to Joey. “I see you have returned from your sojourn abroad. Very nice to see you. Mr. Wheeler.” The man’s voice was smooth and oily.

Joey looked the man over like he wasn’t sure whether to ignore him or spit on him. “I see you.” Joey smoothed the expression right off his face.

“Still unhappy with me? That’s too bad. I could make you a very good deal on a motorcycle. Just to make amends.”

“No thanks. Wouldn’t care to put you out.” Joey got even more stoney faced, if that was possible.

“Ah, come now. You’re still angry. Actually, if you look at it the right way, I payed you a compliment.”

“Thank you. Honda-san I’m sure I didn’t realize it at the time.”

Seto was getting a very odd feeling, the words were polite, but the facial expressions were too bland and the tone of voice made his skin crawl. It was like watching two sharks circle each other trying to get first bite.

“Now, now, my boy. You’re way too touchy.” Honda-san gave a jovial chuckle, unfortunately he still looked like a shark and the toothy grin he gave them only reinforced the impression. “You’re still not available, I guess.” Seto nearly fell over, this idiot was propositioning Joey right here on the sales floor.

“No, I’m not. And ...” Joey bowed to him without taking his eyes off his face. “the next time you ask me, you will find me in your bedroom.” The man lit up starting to smile “Right after that . . . you’ll die.”

“Joey, you shouldn’t say things you don’t mean. You know I’m still a favorite of Watanabi-sama. You really should reconsider my offer. A nice motorcycle, leathers, anything you want.” He narrowed his eyes. And leered cruelly. “I still have quite a stable of helpers. They might like a taste of you. You get too uncooperative and I might introduce you to one or two of them.”

Joey gave Honda a look that could have stripped paint off a battle ship. He cringed slightly and coughed, using that as an excuse to turn his head.

“This time I’m warned. You send any or all your soldiers for me. I’ll take them all on and they won’t last long enough to sweat me. I’m outcast. I don’t have any loyalties now. No one to answer to. No one to command me to . . . “

Joey stopped talking for a second and gave Honda a look of such hatred that Seto’s heart nearly stopped. Suddenly he wanted to be far away from this conversation. He was hearing things he didn’t like, and that was only Joey’s tone of voice. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about but he was sure he wasn’t going to like it when he found out, and he would find out sooner or later.

“No one to command you to make apologies for insolence, for disrespecting me. I made a perfectly acceptable offer. Most of my men would have refused you. They like active participation, not a drugged up, unresponsive body. I’m sorry you were whipped. I hope there aren’t any scars. That would be a shame to scar such a beautiful body.”

Seto jerked like he’d been shot. This was the man who’d threatened to rape Joey. And Seto just blanked out on the rest of it. He wasn’t going to think about it. He finally didn’t want to know.

“Wheeler, come on. We’re leaving. You said something about Kawasaki. Move it.”

“Sure Boss, anything you say.” Joey just turned on his heel and followed Seto out the door.

Seto plopped inelegantly on the seat of his limo and gave Joey the look that made even Roland quake with fear. Joey shrugged it off like it was nothing. Seto couldn’t decide whether to be angry or disgusted or both. As he sat trying to sort his rioting emotions out, Joey was watching him struggle.

Joey was as confused as Seto. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot in high school and never done more than tolerate each other. Now they were thrown together every second of the day. And were at each others throats.

Joey wanted out of this whole assignment in the worst way, but he’d gotten a message from Mokuba in his e-mail. Mokuba had been achingly delighted that Joey was working for Seto. His message had ended, ‘I know you will do everything in your power to keep my beloved big brother safe and sound. Thank you; your friend; Kaiba Mokuba.’ Joey couldn’t let Mokuba down. He was one of the few people who’d never given up on him, even when he seemed like the biggest fuck up in the world. He even received a few precious letters from him while he was in America.

So here he was, trying to decide what he really felt about Seto. Only he wasn’t going to get a chance to do more that wish. Seto always said he couldn’t abide a liar and all Joey had done was lie to him from day one. [When I dig that mole out I’m so gonna hurt him even if it’s a woman]

Both men closed themselves in silence until finally Seto couldn’t stand it anymore.

“That man. He gave me the shivers. What the hell is his malfunction. I . . . “

“Seto, if you ask me a direct question, I’ll answer it. I’m not a story teller. I’m trying really hard not to lie to you, but there’s things you don’t need to know and this is one of them.” Joey decided that telling Seto this particular story might stifle his curiosity. “So if you’re gonna ask. Go ahead.”

“That’s the guy who threatened to drug you.”

Joey gave Seto a bland look. “That’s a statement, not a question.”

“Damnit, Wheeler, you going to make me play twenty questions?”

“Yes.”

“Ook . . . is that the guy who threatened to drug you?”

“Yes.”

“He whipped you.”

Joey eyed Seto for a moment, then relented slightly. “That’s not a question.”

Seto gritted his teeth then asked “Did he whip you?”

“No.”

Seto gritted his teeth some more. Joey was really going to make him pry it out of him. He sat for a moment formulating his questions.

“Ok. Were you whipped?”

“Yes.”

“Who did it? Who had you whipped?”

“That’s two questions in one. Matsumoto did it. My Okashira ordered it.”

“Why?”

“I was insolent.”

“Damnit, Wheeler! Will you just tell me what the hell happened.”

“No.”

Seto gave up, Joey was being so uncooperative that all Seto could do was imagine, and his imagination was running wild.

“You don’t have any scars?”

“No.” Joey decided a little dose of reality was in order. “You can cause a lot of pain and still not leave a scar . . . if you’re good enough. Matsumoto-san is very good.”

They sat in silence while Seto digested this particular piece of information.

~*~

“Driver! Go back. There’s a cycle shop”

“Mr. Kaiba. We’re not near an exit.”

“That’s all right, I realize you can’t just turn around. Take the next exit and go back.”

“Yes, sir. You want to go to the one with the display on a pole right?”

The shop Seto had seen was a specialty shop where they took a stock bike and built something else.

The driver got back to the shop and Seto spent some time looking around and finally settled on a ready-made model that he liked. Joey examined it and wondered for a moment if it was stable enough for a beginner.

“Seto, I’m gonna take it around the lot. You don’t move from here. I’ve checked around and it’s safe. There’s no threat, as long as the driver doesn’t leave the car, we’re fine.”

Joey talked to the salesman and got the keys. The bike was nice. He rode it around the lot and checked the balance, acceleration, and general performance of the machine and liked how it handled. Seto would find it a comfortable ride without quirks.

“It’s good. Pay the man and let’s get out of here. I’m hungry.”

“Again? You’re always hungry.”

“I did a lot of exercising this morning. And it’s past lunch time. Come on.”

Seto decided not to argue with Joey, they’d had enough confrontation for one day.

~*~

Paper work in hand and an appointment for delivery made, they headed for the car.

“Where the fuck is that damn driver.”

Seto froze, the car was surrounded by mechanics and the driver was no where in sight. Joey looked like he wanted to spit the man.

The driver suddenly appeared from around the side of the building. Seeing the crowd of people around the stretch Rolls Royce limo, he realized that he was in a world of hurt with no way out.

Joey looked every inch the yakuza standing with his feet spread to shoulder width, left hand gripping his right wrist lightly. He pinned the man with a cold look.

“Go start the car.”

The driver gulped and waved the onlookers away. He opened the door and Joey said softly. “Lucky so far, Mr. Clark.”

Mr. Clark realized exactly what he’d done and started to shake. He got out of the car and walked up to Joey. Joey looked him right in the eye and jerked his head back toward the car.

“Go start the car . . . Or go home.”

“You can’t . . .”

“I can. I will. Go start the car.“ Joey wasn’t fooling. He was in full combat mode. His vision had tunneled to what was right before him. Mr. Clark looked at him and wondered if he was going to survive Joey’s fury. He was between a rock and a hard man; if he started the car, it might explode; if he didn’t, Joey might explode.

He got in the car and turned the key with a shaking hand. Nothing happened. He turned to Joey who nodded, “Lucky again. Third time’s the charm. Drive it around the lot.”

“What? I . . “

“Drive. It. Around. The. Lot. Now!” Joey gritted each word out between clenched teeth. This was what had gotten the other driver, and nearly them, killed. The detonator could be wired to the odometer so that it didn’t explode until they started to drive away, practically guaranteeing that Seto was in the car.

Mr. Clark drove the car around the lot then pulled up in front of Seto and Joey. Joey held the door open for Seto and waited until he was in the car. Then he went to the drivers door, bent down and tapped on the window.

When the driver rolled the window down he leaned in and snarled right in the drivers face.

“Do. Not. Ever. Leave. That. Car. Again. You do and I’ll fire you on the spot.”

The drive back was accomplished in silence. Seto because he was trying to reconcile his experiences with this new Joey with his memories of the old one. And Joey because he truly regretted that Seto’s enjoyment of his new motorcycle was spoiled by this latest incident.

The driver pulled up to the elevator let them out and disappeared.

“Joey give me the key. I’ll start the elevator while you do whatever it is you need to do.”

“Seto, you got it. Give it back. I’ll start the elevator and push the button while you stay safely outside it.”

Seto froze with his hand out. [What the hell?]

“Seto, there’s a dozen ways to rig an elevator. Keeping the key puts about half them out of the picture, but this guy has access to the building. If he managed to get to the cables or the winches... I don’t like this. I’m gonna have Roland put a body on the elevator doors down here.”

Seto realized that Joey intended to take the chance of getting blown up by starting the elevator.

“Hey, Seto, you don’t fall apart on me now. What the hell?”

“Damnit, Joey, find that man. Soon. This is . . . I can’t . . . “ Seto took a deep breath. “Get in the damn elevator.”

Joey took the key from Seto, walked into the elevator, turned the key, then punched the floor buttons. The door started to close and Seto stuck his hand in it to stop it.

“Damnit, Seto. I didn’t clear it. The door closer is another detonator sight. You don’t do anything until I ok it. You’re going to get yourself blown up or something.”

“Joey! You just stood there and told me you’re taking the chance of getting blown up instead of me. How can you do that?”

“It’s my job.” Joey sighed, braced his shoulders and pinned Seto with a strange look. “Seto, think. I’m nothing. With my record, I’ll never get any job worth having. I’m so lucky that you even considered me it’s not funny. On the other hand, there’s you. You’re rich, very important, good looking, and . . . well, everything I’m not. The number of people that would be affected by your death is nearly uncountable. If I die, no one cares.”

Seto felt stunned. He realized that Joey was right. If he died there wouldn’t be enough people to carry his coffin. [I’ve got to get hold of Taylor.]

The elevator stopped at the office floor and Seto started to get off. When Joey asked what he was doing, he just explained. He was going to stop resisting Joey. It was part of their problem. He was too independent. He hadn’t ever had to explain himself before, and it rankled at him.

“I need some personal stationery. I want to write some letters this evening but I’m out of stationery. I keep it in my desk in my office.”

Seto opened the door and reached for the light switch but stopped before he even touched it. Joey gave him an approving look and pushing Seto behind him flipped it on. The resulting light made Seto relax.

He started to walk to his desk and stopped so short that Joey nearly bumped into him. There was a box on his desk. It shouldn’t have been there.

“Joey! I didn’t order anything that should have been delivered straight to my desk. That box shouldn’t be there.”

Seto did the right thing for once, he headed for the hall, his long legs carrying him out of danger quickly.

Joey eyed the box for a second and then called Roland.. Roland called the bomb squad and then came down to the office.

“Where did that come from?”

“Roland, you’re the one supposed to be answering that question, not asking it.”His soft voice carried his anger clearly. “This building is a sieve. I could walk into it myself and I’m no B and E expert. If you’re suppose to be the best Seto has, I’d hate to see the worst.”

“I am the best but my hands are tied. I’m personal security. Mr. Patrick is head of company security. We . . . don’t get along.”

“Kaiba.” Seto raised his head. He’d been leaning against the wall, standing on one foot, ankles crossed, hands shoved into his pockets. “Mr. Patrick and Mr. Roland evidently don’t get along. There’s some rivalry going on here. You need to make it clear to Mr. Patrick that . . .”

“I’ve been through this several times. Mr. Patrick is jealous of Roland. He won’t cooperate with him. I’m not going to fire Roland and Mr. Patrick hasn’t done anything to merit firing either.”

Joey rubbed the back of his neck. Seto was fair to a fault, exactly the opposite of Gozaburo. But this was ridiculous. As far as he was concerned this failure to cooperate was a firing offence.

“I’ll handle it then. This can’t go on. If you don’t close the holes in building security soon, I’m taking you away from here altogether. I can’t keep you safe if shit like this keeps happening. Come on. I want you in the apartment . . . damn!”

“What?”

“If he got that box into your office, . . . could he have gotten to the apartment too? Damnit, there’s only the two elevators to the apartment and I locked this one. But, fuck me for a fool, I forgot all about the other one.”

“Which one?”

Joey gave Seto a look of combined disbelief, disgust, and irritation. “The one that Torrance uses. The one the groceries come up in?” Joey shoved his hand through his bangs. “Damnit! The one behind the pantry? You really have no idea, do you?”

Seto realized that he really didn’t know anything about his own home, it made his skin rise in goosebumps.

“Ok. I’m completely oblivious. What now?”

“You . . . Roland, come here.” Roland walked over to Joey with a questioning look. “Stay with Seto while I check out the apartment.”

Roland grimaced, Joey wasn’t going to like this at all. “I’m sorry. Neither you nor Mr. Kaiba can go anywhere. The police said to keep you here until the bomb squad can talk to you. They’re on the way.”

“Ok shit. I wanted Seto out of all this. We need to get him somewhere safe incase that box is a bomb and not a fake. Where can we go? ”

Roland thought for a moment, then led the way down a hall and around a corner. He explained that the conference room would be comfortable and put at least five walls between them and any explosion. It was also a good place for the police to conduct their interviews.

A few minutes later the bomb squad arrived, accompanied by two detectives and, to Joey’s relief, Tanaka-san.

The bomb squad immediately moved into the office and started examining the box. It turned out that it really was a bomb. They efficiently disarmed it and took it away. While they were doing that, the detectives started interviewing Seto. Joey stood by looking hard and efficient.

“Ok Wheeler, your turn.” Joey turned to the detective and waited. “First I . . . shit.” The man’s eyes widened and Joey flinched. He’d been in the academy with him. [Busted! Damnit!]

The next few seconds were interesting. Detective Maza grabbed Joey, Joey jerked back. Detective Henderson reacted like any American would. He grabbed Joey from the other side and, when Joey relaxed and let him, he handcuffed Joey’s wrists behind him. Then he shook him down and found his side arm, the knife on his left wrist, and the smaller .380 he’d tucked in a holster in the small of his back. He completely missed the folder in his pocket and the snub-nosed .38 in his ankle holster.

Seto finally came too and started protesting “Hey! He’s my body guard. You can’t do that! Let him go.”

“Seto, it’s al right. It’s standard procedure. With my record they aren’t going to take any chances.”

“Damnit Wheeler! You act like this is a common occurrence.”

“It is. Don’t sweat it. Maza-sama will keep Henderson-san from doing anything illegal.” Joey didn’t bother telling Seto that there was a lot that Japanese police could do that was illegal in America. He was hoping that this was for show.

Seto was so angry he couldn’t decide whether to protest to the detectives or to the supervisor in the hall. He decided to try the supervisor. “I’m going to speak to the supervisor in charge of this outrage.”

Seto stepped into the hall and, while he was speaking to Tanaka, the two detectives wrestled Joey deeper into the room.

“Those cuffs too tight? Ok. What the hell is going on? I thought you were on leave.”

“Thanks for not blowing my cover. Someone is out for Kaiba in a serous way. I got on his security team because I used to know him, long time ago. Charity hires are a wonderful thing.”

Detective Maza sighed. “Damnit, you’ve been under cover for four years. You know that’s the longest anyone has ever managed without going nuts.”

Joey leaned his head against the wall. They’d backed him up to the wall and were shielding their conversation with their bodies. From the door no one could see exactly what they were doing.

“I’m so tired of all this shit. I think I’ve been in cuffs more often that most real criminals. Damnit. Here comes Seto. Don’t let him make you . . .”

Seto charged up like a wounded bull and started issuing demands.“I demand you let him go immediately. Captain Tanaka, tell them to let him go.”

Tanaka-sama looked at Joey and then told detective Henderson to take Seto back into the hall.

“I want to talk to this man in private. What we have to discuss isn’t for your ears, Kaiba-sama, and my interrogation may not be pretty.”

Seto sputtered with fury but Detective Henderson took him firmly by the arm and led him away, quashing his protests firmly. He implied that Seto’s intervention might make it harder on Joey, so he left with one backwards look that convinced him that Joey was in real danger.

“Damnit, I protest this whole thing. Wheeler didn’t do anything. He was with me all day and all last night. I’m calling my lawyers.”

“You do just that. Here. We’ll go into this office here and you can use the phone.”

Joey smiled at Tanaka. “You owe me so big time! That tight ass is worse than he was when we were kids. Oh, . . . by the way. Search me, will you? You’ll get a laugh.”

Tanaka searched Joey and tossed the rest of his weapons on the nearby table.

Maza sighed. “Damnit Wheeler! You’re a walking arsenal. You scare the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. Here’s the low down real quick. Don’t know a thing. The man on the inside has been in the computers, so no telling what’s hidden where. This whole building is open. Security sucks. Patrick don’t get along with Roland. It’s either personal or a pissing contest. Don’t know which and don’t care. Also, there’s the valet. Yeah. Names Torrance. I want them all checked out big time. Now, either slap me around, or let’s get this over with.”

Tanaka sighed, he didn’t want to do this. Fortunately for him the problem was solved for him.

Patrick came into the room in a rush and kicked Joey firmly in the groin. Joey just grunted and curled around the pain. Dropping to the floor he managed to turn himself so that the next kick landed on the heavy muscles of his back.

Seto and Henderson came into the room just then and added themselves to the fight. Seto did the smartest thing he could have done. He dragged Joey away from the wrestling match and helped him to his feet Joey staggered and braced himself against Seto.

“Damn. This is getting completely out of hand. Seto, let me sit down. They’re gonna be at it for a while and I don’t fancy standin’ around until they sort themselves out.”

Seto helped Joey to a seat and then let the infamous Kaiba temper loose on the wrestling men

“Stop that! Now! Enough!” All four men turned to stare at Seto. “This is the most disgraceful, I might even say disgusting, display of outright foolishness I’ve seen in a long time. Attacking a bound man is outrageous. Patrick, you’re fired. Mr. Henderson, make arrangements to escort him off the property at once.” Patrick started to protest.” If you have anything of a personal nature in the building, it will be sent to you. Out! Now!” Patrick followed Henderson out of the room.

Seto rounded on Tanaka. “Allowing your men to chain Mr. Wheeler like that is also inexcusable. He didn’t do a thing to deserve it. He’s been released into my personal custody and is my body guard. He hasn’t left my side since he was released day before yesterday. I want the key. “Seto stuck his hand into Maza’s face, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Seto took the key and returned to Joey. He’d managed to get his pain under control and had sucked air into his lunges again. He leaned forward and let Seto take the cuffs off. He realized that Joey had worn cuffs a lot. The callouses on his wrists matched up exactly to where the cuffs nestled against them.

Joey sighed, and when Seto started to help him up, gently put his hands aside.

“I’m good. I’m not singin’ soprano just yet. Let me get comfortable.”

Joey reached out and swiftly, efficiently checked each one of his guns, slipping them into their holsters. He pocketed one knife and tucked the other back into the sheath on his forearm.

“Ok. I’ve answered all your questions. I’ve put up with your bullshit. Now, this is the way it is. I want a full check on Patrick’s background. One that goes beyond what Seto could get, and I want one on Torrance. You oblige me in this and we’ll let the little brutality charges slide. Favor for favor. What do you say?”

Tanaka bowed to Joey his eyes sad. “I am humiliated that we didn’t keep him from that piece of . . . it is not what I expect from my men. I’ll get you your jackets as soon as I can. Excuse me.” He turned and left hoping he had expressed his concern with his eyes.

Joey turned to Seto “Come on. I’m hungry.” He headed for the elevator again. This time they made it all the way to the apartment. Seto even remembered his paper.

~*~

Seto walked into the kitchen where Joey was pan-frying a steak.

“Joey, we need to talk.”

Joey’s shoulders stiffened. That particular phrase was ground into his consciousness as having most unpleasant consequences.

“That bomb is the last straw. My secretary would have opened that box. She comes in an hour earlier than I do in order to open all the mail and have it sorted for me when I get there. That amount of symtex would have damaged most of the floor. It would have killed her for sure. I’ve been living in the state of denial too long. This has got to stop.”

“Ok, Seto” Joey managed to relax his shoulders before he got cramps. “The first thing you do is arrange for me to meet Torrance. Have you ever actually seen the man? Then you turn Roland loose on the building security. It’s so full of holes it resembles Swiss cheese. You’re not to go take a dump without telling me first. You don’t leave this apartment unless I’m on your heels.” At Seto’s face, he sighed. “I’m a good watch dog. I know how to heel, sit and even beg. You won’t know I’m there unless you do something stupid. Then I’m all over it like white on rice. I know it’s intrusive but . . .“

Seto held up a hand and asked a question that had been bothering him for a while. “You really stand around while someone . . . er . . . had intercourse with a prostitute. That’s just . . . I . . . “

Joey decided blunt honesty was the best route to follow. “Yeah, and shot up drugs, and did a lot of things I’d rather not think about. Now, if you don’t mind, this steak is done and I’d like to eat it before it cools off too much.”

Seto wandered into his office to sit in the dark of early evening and brood, leaving Joey to his steak and broodings of his own.