WARNINGS: Language, implied anorexia, implied sexual situations.

Tasteless

We're tasteless but taste good, my (s)top hat's top hat(ed); unsafe cheerleaders with porn poms and pipe bombs...

"Have you eaten today?" Bakura asks, as usual.

"No," replies the model he's come to know as Dark Necrofear.

He's not one to label his emotions, if he even feels any. All he knows is that he wants her to say "yes." After all, she's the only person at work who doesn't make him want to kill himself, or everyone else for that matter.

"You look disgusting," he says plainly, wrapping the measuring tape around her thigh. He pauses to write down the measurements. "I can see your ribs."

"I don't care," she says, raising her arm horizontally. He runs the tape from her shoulder to her fingertips, tapping her spine to make her stand up straight.

"It's a shame. You have such a pretty face."

"Don't compliment me," she says. "I can't take it."

"I don't care what you can take," he snaps. "I'm telling you, you have a pretty face. Like a doll. With some hair and a decent weight, you could be gorgeous."

"It's not my job to be gorgeous," she snaps back. "Pegasus wants me like this. I do what he wants. He signs my paychecks. He signs yours too."

"Haute couture is the most idiotic thing in the world," Bakura says thickly, pushing a lock of white hair behind his ear. "Who would even wear armor? Or that slut outfit the blonde wears?"

"A slut."

He smiles crookedly. "Observant." He wraps the tape around her waist. "These measurements aren't healthy. Tonight I want you to go home and eat."

"No," she says flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because the camera adds ten pounds."

"There's no camera for a dead girl."

"Have you eaten today?"

"What do you think?"

He turns around, dipping the paintbrush in more blue, and runs it across her face. "You're starting to annoy me."

"Everything annoys you." She tilts her chin back, giving him access to the underside of her face.

"Almost everything, especially here." He looks as the blonde in pink and blue, sitting at the break table across from a serious man with a ridiculous haircut. "Look at her, trying to seduce him."

"I'd say you're lucky I'm not like that."

"But look at her." He points. "She eats. She's got a chest."

"Don't compare me to her." A glare. "Why don't you just take her home if you like her so much?"

He knows they're rivals, have always been since they came to the modeling industry many years ago, just like he's always been rivals with the other man. Yami, his name is, and he's been perfecting the designs on his Dark Magician Girl. (Honestly, Pegasus gives his models the most ridiculous of names).

"I could," ponders Bakura. "It would make Yami go insane, don't you think? But it would make you look bad, because it would seem that I'd rather sleep with her than you." He stretches her eyelid and applies the blue eyeliner in a staccato.

"It would make me look good," smirks Necrofear, one eye open. "Because I turned you down. I'm not your whore." Laughs internally as Bakura's eyeliner pencil stops for a half-second on her eyelid.

"Feh. You've got a sharp tongue for a dumb girl." He stretches her eyelid again, fitting the curler on her eyelashes like he's done so many times before.

She tries not to flinch at the cold metal. "What makes you think I'm dumb?"

"Because you won't eat! Even a three-year-old knows to do so!" He pulls the eyelash curler a bit too hard, and she knocks it out of his hand. "Do that again and I'll break your wrist," he threatens.

"It's an eyelash curler, not a butcher knife," she snaps. "Be gentle."

She doesn't eat lunch, but sits and watches him, resting her head in her hand.

"You're really just going to watch me eat?" asks Bakura.

"Does it bother you?"

"I'm not easily bothered. You're so strange." He spins the noodles around his fork and sticks them in her face. "Smell. Delicious." She backs away. Teasingly, he wraps his tongue around the noodles, putting the whole fork in his mouth, and sliding it out empty with a slick sound. "Mmm... so… good…" He closes his eyes, pretending he's in heaven. "You don't know what you're missing out on."

She makes a face. "You're an asshole."

He holds up a rare steak with his fork. "The blood is just… dripping off of it. You know you want some." In an instant, he rips it apart with his teeth.

"Ugh."

"Look what I stole from Yami." He waves a brownie under her nose. "Chocolate. Every woman loves chocolate. You… want… it. I'm offering you something, how often do I offer anyone something?"

"I'll just throw it back up," she protests. "Even if I do eat it. It's a waste of food."

"You're pathetic."

"Leave me alone."

That night, he leaves with Dark Magician Girl on his arm, making sure that both Yami and Necrofear get a nice view of them together.

"Did you eat today?"

"Stop asking me that."

"I know about your miscarriage," he says plainly. "Is that why you keep that stupid doll? You need to get over yourself; maybe if you ate, your body could handle having a kid."

"You're an asshole," she repeats. "Besides, I divorced him a long time ago. I don't want a kid right now."

"You're such an idiot." He fits the glove over her hand. "You're aware you could permanently damage your entire reproductive system? Your hormones will go into overload and you'll get hairy like a man, and guess who has to deal with that? Me!"

"I won't get hairy; that's a lie."

"I'm a thief, not a liar." He works the armor plate over her other arm. "It's going to hurt like hell, waxing it all off."

"Yes, but you can take it off. Weights stays. I told you, the camera adds ten pounds."

"These KaibaCorp cameras are shit, if you ask me." He lifts her leg up, kneeling, and starts to slide the armor on it. "Make yourself useful; pull it up!"

She bends down and struggles to get her foot through the tighter parts. "I'm telling you, Schroeder Corp makes much better technology, but Pegasus has a deal with Kaiba. Something about repayment for a kidnapping."

"Pegasus is one of the biggest idiots I have ever had the honor of meeting," says Bakura.

"He also signs your paychecks."

The death avoids the media, because Pegasus has a way with words and money.

"See?" says Bakura angrily. "You could be next!"

"I'm not weak like her!" insists Necrofear. "I'm not going to die from this. It makes me skinny. Isn't that healthy?"

"No, you idiot," protests Bakura. "I can see your Ra-damned ribs! It's not even attractive! Eat, woman!"

"I'm not afraid of death," she says fiercely. "I'd rather die than lose to that slut."

"Did you eat today?"

"No."

"I'm not working on you today," he says. "That's it. Not until you eat something. I can't have you dying on me."

"Why?" she asks. "Why do you even care?"

"Because," he says. He leans in, pinning her against the wall, and crushes his lips against hers. Because if I want to defeat Yami, I need you healthy and alive. He can feel her gasp, knows her eyes are wide open in shock. Feels her body go rigid. She may or may not be kissing back.

It doesn't last long; he breaks away quickly. Under the blue, he can see a bit of red on her cheeks, sees her trembling slightly.

"Here," he says, shoving a foam box in her face, the remainders of his lunch. "Now."

She doesn't tell him she'll throw it back up, but opens it. Takes the apple out, puts it cautiously to her lips, and takes a bite. Chews it uncomfortably, all while he watches with a piercing gaze. Swallows.

"Don't throw it up," he orders.

She doesn't say anything, but wraps an arm around her abdomen, feeling her empty stomach, and solemnly takes another bite. It doesn't taste like an apple, though. It tastes like Bakura.

Fin.

A/N: What the hell did I write.

I apologize for making DMG a slut. I actually like her and I don't think badly of her at all. It was just for story purposes. Also, watching Battle City, from the way DMG took out DN, I'd say they have a very Janis-Regina relationship.

Also, before anyone talks about OOC: Bakura is a jerk because he hates everyone. He's less of a jerk to the people that he likes. Clearly, he likes her. Or maybe he's pretending to like her to manipulate her so he can out-rank Yami in the fashion industry.

Once again, what the hell did I write.