Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! GX

Chapter 2

The final wall was at last stripped completely bare. The two young duellists stood surrounded by strips of discarded wallpaper, still strewn around the room from their earlier playful fight, staring at the wall they had just bared. The other three were perfectly in tact, save for a few scrapes here and there caused by Jaden's over-enthusiasm. The final wall, however, was a cause for concern.

There were several large, worryingly deep cracks along the structure. Thankfully the wall was a supportive one within their own apartment and so they didn't have to inform any neighbours about this, but that didn't mean the two weren't put off by this discovery. Whenever one of them accidentally touched one of the cracks, dust would assault them as a small part of the wall crumbled beneath their fingers.

Jesse mumbled under his breath slightly as he counted them. There were two very large cracks and several smaller ones, although even these were deep and dusty.

"We're going to have to replace the wall" Jaden shrugged, put off but not particularly worried. "We put the plaster in the kitchen, didn't we?"

Jesse nodded. "We did, but I'm not sure plaster's gonna be enough to fix this mess."

"What do you mean? It'll be fine, Jess, it's just a couple of cracks."

"Yeah but we need to do this properly. This wall's the main one between the living room and the bedroom, we don't want it coming down on top of us."

"Which is why we're gonna plaster it" Jaden said slowly, rolling his eyes.

Although the two had agreed that this would be a DIY project, Jaden had been more enthusiastic about it from the very beginning than his partner had. Jesse was all too aware that neither of them had much experience with this; stripping a wall was easy enough but they weren't really equipped to handle any major problems – including crumbling walls. But Jaden had a natural confidence and was eager to try something new, so Jesse had agreed to it, reasoning with himself that it couldn't be that complicated. They didn't have to replace any pipes or electrical wires, it was just decorating.

"I'm gonna mix up some plaster. You get some of this wallpaper cleaned up, yeah?" Jaden instructed, seeing that Jesse was staring at the wall and getting lost in his own thoughts. "We'll get that fixed up and then tomorrow we can get started on painting."

"Right." Jesse shrugged slightly, knowing that with Jaden in this kind of mood, it would be near impossible to talk him out of his plan.

While Jaden began preparing some plaster in the kitchen, Jesse scooped up great armfuls of the limp wallpaper and shoved it into plastic bags to put in the garbage. He could see the spirits of their two faithful spirits running around in the mess, chasing one another playfully, and he smiled. At least someone was still having fun with this. He himself was starting to have serious doubts that this had actually been a good idea in the first place.

Jaden emerged from the kitchen eventually, saying that the instructions were about as clear as mud but he'd perfected the plaster mixture nonetheless. His easy enthusiasm calmed his lover's nerves, and then the two stepped up to the cracked wall.

It was only when they did so that they realised they had never plastered anything before and weren't entirely sure how to go about it.

"Do we just … slap it on the wall?"

"No, don't we have to get it inside the cracks to fill them up?"

"The little ones are skinny, how are we supposed to do that?"

"Maybe it doesn't matter with the little ones, just get those two big ones fixed."

"What if there are wires in the wall? We could knock them out of place and then..."

The two fell quiet as they stood, with a bucket of plaster between them, staring at a cracked wall and realising that they had absolutely no idea what they were doing.

/

"This one's stronger than that one..."

"Which one?" The taller of the two pointed to the barrel next to his lover. "That one?"

"No" Aster replied, not entirely steadily. "The one over there next to the … the … the thing."

Zane raised an eyebrow at his companion; he himself was feeling ever so slightly tipsy but, wary of his known heart condition, he wasn't drinking too heavily. Aster, on the other hand, had had several drinks now; not that he would ever admit it, but he was a bit of a lightweight. Aster had a slim build and hadn't built up much of a tolerance in his teenage years, too wary of the ever-bloodthirsty media to get caught up in an under-age drinking scandal. Now he was fairly tipsy on what wasn't really a lot of alcohol.

He's too used to drinking just wine, Zane thought to himself. He's knocking back that whiskey like it's wine.
And of course, whiskey is much stronger than your typical white wine.

Zane was about to say something to his younger lover about Aster calling it quits when the other suddenly disappeared round a corner, the barrels hiding him from Zane's line of vision. Zane followed him, and soon found him standing next to a lone barrel that had been separated off from the rest of them.

"What have you found?"

"It's a blonde wood barrel" Aster said, his words slightly slurred but still understandable. He leant a little bit on the wall behind him. "This stuff is filtered through something and it goes all pale."

Zane nodded, remembering their boring tour-guide saying something about blonde wood barrels and filtering through heather. Had the guy not had the personality of a wet plank of wood, Zane might have found that little bit of information interesting.

"Is it good?" Zane asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Wouldn't know" Aster replied, grinning. "Haven't opened it yet."

No more words were required before the two set about trying to open the barrel a little. However, unlike all the others, which had had convenient little taps from which they could take a mouthful and no more, this was an old fashioned barrel. It had no tap and instead had a large cork shoved in the side, holding the alcohol inside.

The two navigated the best way to do this. Zane was vaguely amused that they were doing this; Aster was a little too tipsy to really care any more.

They managed to get into a position in which Zane was holding and supporting the barrel so it wouldn't fall and spill, and Aster was ready to yank the cork out of the barrel.

"On three. One … two … three!" The younger duellist heaved the cork out of the barrel, and in doing so accidentally shoved it sideways.

Zane lost his grip on the barrel, and it rolled away from them, gushing whiskey.

The two both cried out wordlessly as they dashed after the contraption – Aster not as quick as he usually was due to the alcohol in his system – and struggled to get it upright.

"Turn it over!" Aster shouted.

"I would if you'd stop pulling it the other way!"

"Turn it towards me!"

"Just let me do it, would you!?"

Whiskey flowed from the exposed hole in the barrel, and Aster placed both his hands over it to try and stop any more liquid from escaping. He was succeeding, mostly; only the barest trickles were escaping now. Unfortunately, there was already whiskey all over the floor and both duellists were now drenched in it.

"Zane, where's the cork?"

"You had it" he said, looking around for the object. "We have to get out of here."

"First we have to put the cork back in this stupid thing. It's over there, by all the … the things."

Zane got to his feet and fumbled around until he found the offending cork, hurrying back to Aster and the two ever-so-carefully replacing it. Then they rolled the half-empty barrel back to where it had been originally.

The two then stood there, looking at one another. Both were drenched in whiskey, and although they couldn't tell in the room where it had all spilled, logically they knew that they must smell strongly of it. Plus, the two had both swallowed some more whilst trying to stop it from escaping the runaway barrel, and so neither one was sober.

Which meant, they realised too late, that neither one was fit to drive.

The two great professional duellists were stood, in a room in a whiskey distillery that they had snuck into and accidentally soaked in alcohol, dripping with booze and unable to go anywhere once they got out of the room.

Well, at least they knew what their next step was. First they had to get out before somebody saw them in here and saw what they had done.

Zane opened the back door and the two slipped out, realising that this door led straight to the cold outside world. The distillery was in the country and the air here was rather unpleasantly cool; the were on the other side of the building from their car – they assumed that this was the case, anyway – and they wouldn't be able to drive home even when they found it.

The two came to the realisation that they were stuck, not sober, in the country simultaneously.

They turned to each other and spoke as one: "This is your fault!"

/

Reaching the supermarket on the other side of town had been far more difficult than Alexis had expected. Traffic was terrible and what should have been a forty minute drive had become a seventy-five minute drive; she had gotten irritated to the point where she was about ready to leave her car parked in the middle of a traffic jam and walk to the damn story. Just when she had been seriously considering doing so the traffic had moved and she had calmed down enough to get to the supermarket car park.

The building was enormous and crowded, with bright lights that did nothing to help her headache. People shoved past one another and Alexis resorted to using her sharp elbows to push through the rude crowd, following signs for the children's department. Once there, she had to navigate her way through a throng of people, children and infants in prams to reach the baby section.

After wandering through three aisles of diapers, pacifiers, baby food and toys, the young mother found a small section full of teething toys. She had been fearful that they would not have any stocked – it would be typical of the luck she seemed to be having that day – but thankfully there were several different types.

Unfortunately, these different utensils were all labelled as doing something differently or better than each other, and Alexis had no idea which was the best choice. Another young mother, holding a quiet toddler, saw her hesitating and came up to talk to her.

"You look a bit lost" the woman said kindly. "First time buying for a little one?"

"Yes" Alexis nodded politely, turning one over in her hands. "I'm not sure what the difference is between these things."

"Well, you certainly don't want that one" the woman laughed, nodding her head at the toy in Alexis' hands. "It's mostly plastic, not enough for a little one to chew one. My Noah would chew on one of those things for five minutes and then get bored and want his other one." She plucked a larger toy from the pile, one shaped like a frog. "Something like this is much better, it's got more give and there's more to gnaw at."

Alexis accepted the offered toy from her, putting the other one back, and thanked her kindly for her help. The young woman nodded pleasantly and then wandered off in the direction of the baby food.

Alexis had been just about to go in the direction of the cashier when another woman, probably in her late thirties or early forties, began looking at the same section of toys.

"Buying a little gift for the little one?" she asked pleasantly, obviously making simple conversation with a fellow mother.

"Yes" Alexis replied, ever polite no matter how bad her day had been. She had picked up remarkable manners at college and dealing with a baby had taught her patience that she had never known she was capable of, so she could certainly deal with strangers in the supermarket. "My daughter's just started teething and I need to get her something to help."

The older woman glanced at the frog-shaped teether in Alexis' hands. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, dear, but that won't do much good for a little one. How old is your little girl?"
"Under a year" Alexis said warily. Had the other woman told her that this one was a good one? "What's wrong with this one?"

"It's a funny shape, dear. The poor love will spent more time trying to hold onto it than she will getting any good use out of it."

"Oh." This was far more complicated than Alexis had ever dreamed of. "Which would you say is..."

"Hmm," the woman murmured, sorting through a couple of toys before pulling out a simple long rectangular one. "Something simple is always a good place to start, I've always found."

"Thank you."

The older woman nodded and picked up another toy, similar to the one she had given Alexis, and walked away.

But now Alexis was concerned; which was the best one to buy? If she got the wrong one and it didn't help her daughter, then she would just have to come right back to this supermarket – driving that godforsaken busy road again – and it would frustrate her more.

Hoping for helpful advice, she found somebody who was working the baby section and asked them what their advice would be. The young salesman was probably too young to have children of his own, but he started a friendly conversation and said that he had two younger sisters and so knew what to look for. He picked out a doughnut shaped teether and handed it to Alexis, saying that she couldn't go wrong with this one.

Alexis thanked the man and watched as he went back to whatever job he had been doing beforehand, thinking that he had been helpful enough but that she was now more confused. Everyone she asked seem to say something different.

It did not seem fair that this was one of the most challenging things about parenting.

Eventually, flustered and knowing that she had been gone for a long time already and that Jim was likely suffering in her absence, Alexis gathered up several teething toys – including the three she had been recommended to get – and made her way to the cashier before she could rethink her choice.

She purchased the several toys and hurried back to her car, stashing them in the passenger seat next to her and driving out of the car park a little faster than she probably should have. By now she was just desperate to get home.

It had been a bit expensive but surely that was worth it to ensure her daughter's comfort. Too much had to be better than too little, after all. Surely there would be something in the mix that would placate her daughter and then she and Jim could relax for the rest of the evening.

/

"We're only half an hour late, we can still get dinner."

"Chazz, they won't have held the reservation. Besides, there's a problem with the whole 'let's get dinner' plan."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"This is the wrong restaurant!" Syrus yelled, very frustrated and by now hungry. "We're not even in the right place!"

Chazz sighed angrily. Alright, so they were running half an hour late. And yes, they were not at the restaurant in which they had made reservations. But after driving around for twenty minutes – ignoring the utterly useless sat nav that Chazz was absolutely going to destroy as soon as they got home – they had finally managed to get parked in a side street. There was a restaurant ten feet from their car, surely that would do?

The neighbourhood was a bit seedy, he had to admit. It was definitely not where they had intended to be, and maybe he had overestimated his ability to drive them around in the middle of Tokyo. However, he had at least arrived at a restaurant, even if it wasn't their intended destination. It served food, didn't it? If they ate here they could still make the play and get their evening back on track.

"Come on, Syrus, we'll just go in and eat here. Can't be that bad."

The neighbourhood might have looked a bit dodgy but it was nothing compared to the old Slifer dorm; the two had been used to that place, they could deal with this one.

Syrus was sorely tempted to make a fuss. If they had just asked the driver, or if they had just stopped to ask for directions when he had first suggested that they should, maybe they could have been at their intended restaurant right now. Instead here they were in a sketchy neighbourhood beside a small restaurant they had never heard of; it certainly didn't look fancy and romantic like they had planned.

But at least they were here and they were together. Syrus reasoned that, compared to their previous two anniversaries, this wasn't so bad. At least they could still try to stick to the plan of dinner, the theatre and then home.

So he nodded instead of complaining, trying to make himself calm down. He locked the car – he hadn't missed the slightly worried look Chazz had and knew his lover was worried about the car being stolen or damaged – and then took his boyfriend's arm.

The two walked into the small restaurant. The whole place was dimly lit, with red lighting casting a dim glow over the various dark wooden tables. There were a few people already dining on plates of slightly odd looking food. Neither one was particularly reassured by their first impression of the place but they nonetheless nodded when their waiter asked – in a heavy Spanish accent – if they would like to be seated.

A cursory glance at the menu told them that they were likely in an authentic restaurant, one that appeared to be selling mostly spicy food. It might have been Mexican? Neither were really sure but they were here now, and so they each order a glass of water while they looked over the menu.

The food was mostly strange to them; in was written in another language that Chazz told Syrus was Spanish. The shorter of the two had no idea and so chose to just believe his partner. They looked over the menu several times before the waiter appeared beside their table and asked if they were ready to order.

Syrus ordered a dish that he imagined was something like tacos; the picture it showed wasn't a taco but it looked similar, so hopefully he'd like that. It had beef and vegetables, and he liked those well enough, even if the meat was a bit spicy. The waiter nodded at him before looking towards Chazz.

Chazz had no idea what he wanted – back in his school days he might have demanded that the waiter whip up something not on the menu but he had matured and so didn't want to cause a fuss; doing so would embarrass Syrus and their evening was already not going as planned – and so he simply pointed to a random option on what he thought was the chicken section of the menu.

To his surprise, the waiter laughed and shook his head. "That is very, very spicy," he said in his thick accent. "You are not used to spice, need something simpler."

All Chazz heard was that he was being told he could not handle something. Well, there was no way he was going to let that slide.

"I like spice" he said, although he wasn't especially fond of it. He liked spicy foods well enough but they weren't anything special. "That one, thank you."

"Chazz, if he says it's too spicy, maybe you shouldn't."

"I want that one."

"You don't like really spicy food, though."

"The Chazz can eat whatever he wants."

The waiter shrugged and nodded, noting down what Chazz had ordered and walked back to the kitchen. Chazz and Syrus stared at each other – not glaring but definitely challenging – for several moments before Syrus sighed and backed down.

After all, when Chazz was given a challenge, be it a duel or a social challenge or being told he couldn't handle the spice, he rose to it. This was just going to be one of those nights.

Please R&R