Author's Note: Reading yaoi late at night plus a love of Bakura plus a love of OC characters equals …this. Whatever this is. Like I said, it's OC, because if I used Marik - as I was originally planning - I'm afraid it would seem too much like the yaoi I was reading. So, moving on.
Disclaimer: I do not own. Anything. Period. I don't even own this computer. Which sucks. Terribly.
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The sound of a hand across a face resounded in the room.
A young man clutched his now red cheek. Much to his dismay, he found himself on the floor, in front of a larger man, who loomed over him with the anger of the gods.
"How dare you touch my daughter? You filthy vermin, you should be punished for your sins."
"Bastard."
"Get out! Before I have you arrested." A hand was raised again.
"No! Don't hurt him." The girl pushed her father aside, and flung herself at the cowering man. "Don't hurt him. D-don't leave me. Please, Bakura!"
He wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders and buried his face in her neck. "I have too."
Breathing in her scent one last time, he stood up.
"I'll find you!"
He smiled faintly. "Don't waste your time." He gave a final glare to his former employer and turned away. He didn't look back when the girl cried out again, "B-Bakura!"
He wasn't heartless, no. He just didn't want to see those pathetic eyes again; those eyes that would bring him back and land him in trouble.
"Why does it bother you?"
"Why do you care?"
"I'm here so you have someone to talk too."
"I don't want to talk to you! Why would I want to talk to someone I don't know? Why do you do this job? Do you enjoy prying into other peoples' lives?"
"If you don't want to talk, that's fine." Bakura spoke softly, not rising to the bait. He shrugged. "We can pass the time in silence, if that's what you wish."
Silence was granted, though the boy began to feel uncomfortable after only a few moments. He glanced at his watch. 3:15; fifteen more minutes to go. He shifted his foot, tucking it under the chair. His eyes wandered the room, finally resting on his psychiatrist, who was writing something on a notepad.
"What are you writing?" He asked, trying to keep a tone of disrespect in his voice.
Bakura looked up. "I'm not writing anything."
"Well then, what are you doing on that paper?"
"Hmm…nothing. Just drawing."
"What?" His curiosity got the better of him and he suddenly got up from his chair to stand behind the shrink. His eyes grew as he stared at the paper. "What is THAT?"
"It's a cat."
"That's not a cat! It looks nothing like a cat!"
A small frown crossed Bakura's face. "Yes it does. See, there are the ears. And the tail. And the paws." He pointed to each respective part with his pen.
The boy shook his head. "I don't know what you're seeing, but all I can see is a bunch of squiggly lines."
"Huh. Well I went to school to be a psychiatrist, not an artist. If you can do better, why don't you show me," the man said. Though his tone was
still that soft sound, like water rushing over pebbles, there was a hint of challenge to it.
The boy made a face, and grabbed the pen and notebook out of his hand. "Fine, I'll show you what a cat is. You obviously don't know."
Bakura leaned forward and rested his chin lightly on his hand. He watched as the boy began drawing furiously and smiled when the notebook was handed back to him.
"That's what a cat looks like."
"Indeed."
"Aren't you supposed to write stuff down in this book?" The man shrugged nonchalantly.
"I suppose so. I prefer not to though. I keep my notes in here." He tapped his temple. The boy snorted. "Anyway, your time is up. Why don't you do out, and tell your mother to come in to see me."
"Why? So you can tell her what's wrong with me?"
"It's what I'm paid to do."
He sat on the couch while he waited for Mrs. Vignette to enter.
"How is he doing? He seemed really upset when he came out."
Bakura raised his eyes "I don't think he likes the idea of us talking about him when he's not around."
"So did he…?"
He shook his head. "No, he didn't say a word. However," he handed the mother his notebook." "You should consider enrolling him in an art school. He has a talent."
Mrs. Vignette raised an eyebrow. "If you want to call this art." She flipped the notebook to show Bakura his mess of scribbles. He blushed.
"Er, it's on the next page. I just drew that to…you know." He coughed.
"I understand. Shall we come back next week?"
"Oh yes. As much as he might not admit it, he's starting to get more comfortable, but until he starts talking to me, he should keep coming back. Let's take it to the end of the month and see what goes on until then."
"Alright. How much would that be? For the month, I mean. I have the money, so I may as well pay it all now."
"$450."
The woman wrote a check and, with a little flourish of her wrist, handed it to him.
"Thank you, Mrs. Vignette."
"Of course! If it helps my son…" She gave a tight smile and left.
Bakura stretched out. He had half an hour to kill before his next patient arrived.
I should probably get something to eat, he thought. I haven't eaten anything since this morning.
With extreme effort, he pried himself from the couch. Grabbing his jacket on the way out the door, he waved to the secretary behind the counter.
"I'll be back, I'm getting something to eat. Want something?"
The girl shook her head.
In the streets, Bakura entered the first take-out restaurant he saw and order a large container of pork lo-mein. He didn't bother with chopsticks, knowing he couldn't use them any way. He munched on his food while sitting on a curb. He had a thoughtful look on his face and to the casual person passing by, he looked as though he were thinking about something very important.
Nah, he was just commenting over and over again about how wonderful lo-mein tasted and even if it were really bad, he'd still think it tasted good because he was so damn hungry.
When he finished, he threw his container away and walked back to his building. Inside, he stared at the clock with a half glare. 3:45. He could have eaten slower…
"Bakura, there's someone waiting upstairs for you."
"Eh? What?"
"S-she didn't have an appointment but said she absolutely had to talk to you so…I'm sorry, I can tell her to leave if you'd like."
Bakura rubbed his temples and sighed. "No, no. Don't worry about it."
He stumbled up the stairs to his office. He hung his jacket on the hook by the door before taking a seat behind his desk.
The girl in front of him stared with wide eyes. She looked vaguely familiar, but then again, all the girls in the city looked the same.
"What can I do for you Miss…?"
"Bakura!" The girl whispered.
He froze. "B-beg pardon?"
"You are very hard to find!" Bakura blinked rapidly. All the girls in the city did not sound alike.
He attempted a laugh. "I suppose that's why I don't have many clients then."
"Oh Bakura, I spent three years searching for you."
"I thought I told you not to waste your time."
"It wasn't a waste. I found you, didn't I?"
The man clicked his tongue. "So what did you do with that extra year?"
"I was waiting for the right time to find you in person."
Rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed. "Why?"
"I…because I love you. And I wanted to find you, and be with you again and I couldn't stand it when you left!"
Bakura watched this girl, eight years his junior, disbelievingly. He suddenly felt very ashamed. "You love…I practically raped you when you were a child."
The girl, who had been staring at her hands, looked up sharply. "I was fifteen. Not a child." She gave an uneasy smile. "And you…didn't really. I asked for it, didn't i?"
"I take it you didn't tell your father that?"
"My father banned your name from the house. He never spoke of you, I never mentioned you. But…obviously, I didn't forget."
"Where is he now?"
"Dead."
"Ah." The young woman stood up and was suddenly leaning over Bakura, so close to his face.
"He's dead. The past is past, and there's nothing in the way between us now. We can do whatever. Unless you're already…" She stepped back and looked side to side, as though expecting someone to jump out at her.
Bakura grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. He held up his left hand. "No prior engagements, if that's what you're asking." She nodded.
Pressing her forehead against his, she whispered, "Tell me my search wasn't a waste."
He closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. "I love you."
And they kissed. It was a passionate kiss, like the ones they shared four years ago but this time, there was more vigor, more love. It wasn't the psychiatrist kissing his child client. It was two lovers separated by time, distance, and people. She darted her tongue into his mouth, desperate to feel him again. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she moaned when he left a trail of kisses from her jaw to her collarbone.
Bakura ran his hands up and down her slim figure, relishing the feel of her so close to him. He did feel a little guilty. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was just lust. To hold that small body again, to grind their hips together and suck on those lips that were so delicately enlaced with his. Maybe real love would grow out of it. It had too; after all, hadn't it been love that brought them back together?
There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and the two pulled apart. The secretary blushed. "I-I'm so sorry. I thought I'd tell you th-that your client is here, Bakura."
He looked at the clock. 4:07. "Shit. I should go." He picked the girl off his lap and set her on his chair. He kissed her on the lips again. "Stay here."
"Okay."
"Don't go away."
"Never."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Bakura didn't look back when he left the room. He didn't want to look into those eyes; those eyes that would pull him in and make him lose money.
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A/N: Hmm…well that was interesting. It was very AU, OC, and OOC. What other names can I use? I think Bakura makes a fine psychiatrist, don't you?
I purposefully didn't mention the girl's name. Now you get to incorporate yourself into the story! Whoo - God, I'm a fucking genius.
Anyway, that was my little one-shot that needed to be written down and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cause I enjoyed it very much.
Also, if you pay attention close enough, you'll find out exactly how old Bakura is ((nods)) But…you have to pay attention. And do some math. I'm an evil fucking genius, that's what I am.
Debating whether or not to write a prequel to this. :\ Hmm…what is your opinion?
Also, I need a better title. I didn't want to upload this as "untitled," but I believe this title sucks, personally. Please help me rename this, thank you so much!