Yes

"I think so," Joan replied.

Mokuba gave Joan's hand a squeeze and got up to let in the reporter. The guards entered as well, maintaining professional silence and standing against the wall. Meanwhile, Seto reclaimed his seat beside Joan.

"Hi! I'm Tricia Varma and I work for the San Francisco Chronicle." Tricia extended her hand and Joan stood briefly to shake it. Tricia struck Joan as young and earnest, excited that Mokuba had picked her out of the crowd as the one to get the full scoop.

Seto remained seated as he glared at the newcomer, ankle on his knee and arms stretched across the back of the couch. Mokuba pulled a chair over for Tricia and then sat on the other side of Joan.

Tricia pulled out a tablet and gave it a few pokes and swipes to initiate her note-taking app. "Joan Saunders, was it?" Tricia asked.

"Yes," Joan agreed.

"And Seto Kaiba?"

"Obviously," Seto stated.

"We have received statements that your bodyguard fired his weapon at an unarmed group of men in an Oakland night club less than two hours ago. Would you please give me your account of the incident?"

Joan and the Kaibas clarified how Roland shot through the ceiling, how vicious the unarmed men in question had been, and how a drunken story based on a rumor had incited it all. Joan let herself re-live the violation and cried in front of Tricia while Mokuba rubbed Joan's back and spoke soothing words.

"Now Seto, for your part in all this, what motivated you to call Joan a whore in front of all those rabid men?" Tricia inquired.

"Not a whore, my whore," Seto clarified.

"What were your exact words?" Tricia pressed.

"Mokuba, what are you doing with my whore," Seto recounted.

Tricia's chocolate eyes bored into his blue ones. "And what motivated you to say those words at that time?"

Seto paused. His heart thudded as the moment flashed back to him. He hadn't expected to see her there. She'd left him wanting, craving more but too weak to do anything about it. He needed her services again, but the way he'd seen Mokuba using her had shaken him. Mokuba was tender, protective. If Mokuba hadn't been paying her in money but rather the way Marc paid her, the way her husband probably paid her . . . the scattered pieces snapped together in Seto's mind.

Tricia watched the color drain from Seto's face with fascination. Joan flicked away tears and took stock of the situation. Something swirled in Seto's oceanic orbs, something she recognized all too well. Joan gasped.

"Seto was being playful," Mokuba covered.

"I want to hear it from him." Tricia pointed her stylus at Seto.

"Because I didn't want to be left out of the fun," Seto managed to say.

"What's your definition of fun?" Tricia persisted.

"I think we're done here," Mokuba stood and showed Tricia to the door. "Thank you for your time."

Tricia glanced back to see Joan and Seto angled towards each other, hands connecting. Then her eyes met the solemn ones of the Hyatt security guards and she hurried out the door before they decided to use ****. Once all three were out, Mokuba closed the door.

Mokuba walked back toward the couch, shaking his head. "Maybe that wasn't the best idea aft-" he froze. He saw magic happening in front of him. Not the evil Shadow Realm type of magic but something pure and fresh. "Seto . . ." he searched for fitting words but found none. "I can't help but ask . . . what are you doing with my whore?"

Girlish giggles spilled out of Joan.