(A/N)

Yes, I am aware that I took ages to update. I took ages to write the chapter, so I suppose that's understandable. And aside from that, I'm not all that fond of typing something up once it's been written, so blame the lateness on my laziness and procrastination when it comes to homework, all right?

Still not used to high school

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Chapter Six

Home Alone—or Not

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Bakura slowly picked himself up. First whitewash, and now marbles on the stairs. He growled in a low tone as he began to move carefully, trying to get to Calvin's room without hurting himself.

"Calvin, Hobbes," he called, "get down here!"

"Not a chance!" the boy exclaimed, opening the door of his room.

The spirit growled, his eyes flashing blood red. "If don't get down here this instant, I won't do anything worse than making you help clean up."

"Hmmm…no, thanks," Calvin grinned evilly before closing the door to his room.

Snarling, the spirit slowly climbed up the stairs, moving cautiously, senses alert for more traps. What a shame that Calvin and Hobbes had been prepared for that.

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Calvin smirked evilly as the possessed baby-sitter began to move slowly up the stairs, body tense and senses apparently on high alert for more booby traps. However, a booby trap is something that was set down for the victim to activate, and the next phase was something totally different.

The child carefully took aim, and pulled the trigger on his water gun. He hit the dark spirit full in the face. Bakura growled at the six-year-old terror, and wiped some of the water away with his hand.

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Bakura hissed as the movement of his arm caused the drying whitewash to crack, irritating his sucker-wounds. This kid was getting to be more trouble than he was worth. If Calvin did this sort of thing routinely, it was no wonder that the menace's regular sitter had warned Ryou against this job. Too late now, though, Bakura was stuck watching the boy.

Yet again, he attempted to make Calvin see reason.

"All right, kid, I despise you, and it's painfully obvious that you don't like me all that much, either. However, I really don't think that either of us particularly wants to be held responsible if Ryou wakes up and sees this mess."

"Oh? And what, exactly, would Ryou do? He seems harmless enough. Besides, you're only trying to trick me into going where you can get at me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not, and he could fix nothing but meatloaf the whole time he's watching you. He did it to a kid he was taking care of once; oatmeal for breakfast, salad for lunch, and meatloaf for dinner. Every day for a month."

"That doesn't sound so—" Calvin was cut off.

"And no snacks, either," Bakura interrupted.

"What about tuna-fish?" Hobbes inquired. "Would I get tuna-fish?"

"Not if Ryou thought you had anything to do with it you wouldn't."

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Calvin glanced over at his comrade in arms, and best friend, and saw that the tiger was about to snap from the prospect of not being allowed to have any tuna fish.

"Hobbes," he hissed, "it's a trick. Bakura's lying to get us to come down so he can get his hands on us."

"Do you really think so?" Hobbes whimpered, still thinking of a fish-less nightmare.

"Yes, I really think so," Calvin reassured.

"Get down here!" they heard the sp9irit shout. "Calvin, Hobbes, get down here this instant!"

The boy and the tiger looked out the doorway to see the dark spirit still trying to get to them. He didn't look so good, either, with dry, cracking whitewash all over him, and the tattered remains of Ryou's shirt still hanging off his shoulders. As they watched, Bakura stepped on the string that would send the barbells flying at him.

The spirit's eyes widened, the angry blood red dulling to a surprised garnet as the weights hi the back of his head. He collapsed.

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Bakura was so intent on getting at the little brat and sending him, and his tiger friend, on a short "vacation" that he didn't notice the string until he stepped on it.

Shock coursed through the spirit. A trip-wire. He'd set off another trip-wire. Before the could do anything other than realize what had happened, pain exploded in the back of his head. The last thing the millennia old thief thought before it all went black was 'Damn. I'll bet Ryou'll be upset when he finds that bump.'

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"Calvin!" Hobbes shouted, panicked, "we have to make sure he's all right!"

"Why? He's an evil spirit."

"But he's still our baby-sitter."

"Oh, fine," the blonde boy grumbled, but he walked over to the fallen thief anyway. "Well, he's breathing, and his head's not bleeding, so I don't think we should worry."

"Oh, that's good," Hobbes sighed in relief.

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Calvin smiled slightly at his friend's relief, before he realized something.

"Hobbes…he's going to be really mad when he wakes up."

"Calvin, I think you're right. What do we do?"

"We should make some sandwiches, grab some candy and comics, and retreat to the tree house! That way he won't be able to get us."

"Good idea!"

The two miscreants fixed four tuna sandwiches, four peanut butter sandwiches, grabbed the cookie jar, and filled Calvin's school backpack with comic books. Then they headed out to the tree house, which, fortunately, was already well stocked with water balloons, just in case Susie Derkins mad a surprise visit. After all, GROSS (Get Rid of Slimy girls) just had to be prepared.

As Hobbes climbed up the tree with the pack, Calvin tried to think of things they could do to avoid Bakura's wrath.

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Ryou moaned as he woke up. He hurt all over.

Bakura? he called, Bakura, why do I have the feeling that this is your fault?

There was no reply.

"Fine, then," Ryou sighed. Then, "Calvin? Hobbes? What happened here?"

After calling for a little, Ryou realized what a mess the house was. In fact, it was even worse off than him, and he was covered in whitewash.,

"Calvin!" the pale baby-sitter shouted, furious.

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(A/N)

While I realize that this is a short chapter and so should have been easy to type, I've got the evil CRAMPS, and can't sit still because it hurts it hurts it hurts and so on and so forth.

To get an idea of what this feels like (if you're a guy, or your cramps aren't as bad as mine) it's like someone hit my back on either side of my spine with a sledge hammer and locked my intestines in the same position. KK? Good, I'm glad you get the picture.