A sure sign of the apocalypse

Thinking of Myrtle, Bakura felt a wave of guilt he had to actually battle to get under control; this, however, did bring home to him a point. He had better go and set things straight – not necessarily apologize, just set things strait. Procuring a tab of paper and a small pencil, he left a note for Ryou outside his door as to where he was going in case he needed any other materials, and in case he didn't come back after a few months because Myrtle had found some way to murder him.

Setting out with determination for the second floor girl's toilet, Bakura wasn't very happy to find not only a sobbing ghost hovering over the sinks, but also three House Elves cleaning up the last of what seemed like a flood, plus three younger girls in there, using the toilets it would seem.

As soon as the girls came out of their stalls, huddling in a circle and giggling as girls always seem to be doing; Bakura took several decisive steps forward and started shooing them out. After much screeching, squeaking, squealing, and a few screeches on their part he was able to drive them and the House Elves out into the corridor. He locked the door with a little shadow magic so he wouldn't be disturbed. Turning back to Myrtle, though, he realized she hadn't noticed any difference; she still was sitting atop her sink fixture weeping.

"Myrtle?" he called stepping up so he was right under the plumbing.

"Leave me alone!" she exclaimed without giving him a glance. But as if something was slowly dawning on her, she turned her head slowly to face him, eyes flashing hatred at him. "What do you want?" she spat at him, "come to tell me that I deserve to burn in the depths of hell?"

"No..." Bakura started then stopped as his voice caught in his throat, he was getting to emotional. "I just came to explain what I meant by what I said. I believe you misunderstood me."

"Did I?" Myrtle didn't seem to be convinced as she sullenly floated down. "Explain then." She practically dared him.

"What I meant was-" Damn having feelings, there went his voice again. Clearing his throat decisively he restarted. "What I meant was that everyone deserves to die for something, I myself have many things that I've done that I should die for." Though her face had been stone for most of his confession it did break slightly at the end, when he admitted to his own faults.

"I guess." Myrtle pondered the situation with great care. That really hadn't been an apology, but it was likely the closest thing to one that she would get from Bakura. "Ok you're forgiven." She stated, as if she was the queen bestowing a gift upon a lowly subject.

Bakura couldn't help stiffening slightly in resentment at her attitude; he quickly stifled these feelings though; it would only lead to more needless controversy.

"Uh...." Myrtle faltered slightly, but she so longed to tell Bakura how she felt. "What lead you to come back?"

"Boredom." Bakura stated firmly.

"Nothing else?"

Even though he replied, "no", Myrtle thought there had to be.

"Really?"

"What am I supposed to tell you? That I came back because I think I might be in love with you?!" Bakura demanded, crap, he hadn't meant to say that!

"Possibly..." Myrtle trailed off, thinking. "Because." Figuring on what she knew of Bakura he would never admit to it, unless, Myrtle did first. What did she have to lose, she had technically already had her heart broken; how much could a few more sobs hurt? "Because, I would then admit to you that I could perhaps have fallen for you too." Turning a bright ting of silver Myrtle steeled herself for his satirical reply.

"Well then..." Bakura's throat tried to jinx him again, but thankfully his voice didn't grate. "It might be true." Caught in the moment Bakura's hand came up to push away an annoying scrap of bangs out of her face; none too surprising his hand went right through her. He couldn't help seeing her crestfallen look as her eyes followed his hand as best they could.

There had to be something, some way..... Bakura's eyes bored into Myrtle in deep thought, trying to think of some way to touch her. This was as maddening, he could only assume, as having a wizard photo of a now dead loved one, the only difference he could tell was he could talk to her; but he could never actually feel anything but that slightly sickening ghostly tingle that you felt whenever a ghost touched you.

Maybe... he was truly a spirit after all... perhaps if he tried... focusing his eyes back on her face Bakura concentrated with every pent up feeling within himself. Slowly he felt himself fade, slowly he felt the solidity of the floor beneath him waver, and then slowly disappear.

Myrtle gave a gasp as he slowly, somehow, went from the realm of the fully human to the realm of the disembodied humans; those people killed, and without the bravery to go on into the unknown world of the dead.

Smirking to himself at his success Bakura reached his hand forward once more, finally able to move that annoying strand of hair out of her face. Pushing the strand behind an ear his hand slipped behind her head and gently he moved closer to her. After several long agonizing seconds of being closer and closer she hadn't moved, or pushed away. Taking this for the closest thing to assent he had the patience for he closed the distance between their lips quickly and caught her up in a deep, breath-stealing, kiss.

AN: 'Tis finally the end! After a long, dark teatime of the soul we have finally conquered the great evil of writer's block and finished the story! Please don't hate us for our long delay. It's not our fault I swear! Be proud of us. Despite the fact that neither of us have ever been romantically involved with anyone we still managed to add romance to this! Flamers will have Myrtle sent to haunt them. So long and thanks for all the fish!