A:N/ Hey, folks! I hope you like this new idea I got. Recycled theme, I know, but it seems worth it. Mild language used and most of her swear words are said in different languages, so that helps a little. Enjoy! By the way, since I will have to mention this again, her name is pronounced Chigan. It's Latvian for gypsy.

"Say another word, bitch, and I swear I'll kill you." His heavily English accented voice was cold and sharp while it tried to remain quiet and sound annoyed that the girl he was with at the same time. Normally, when he took a girl away, they were so sad and bullshitty, dragging their feet and sobbing half-heartedly, but this girl carefully jogged beside him, taking small steps as so not to jerk the ropes tied around her ankles and wrists he had put on her, smiling brightly and talking to him. He pulled on the rope in his hand and dragged her quicker, ignoring the quiet grunt as she changed her pace to keep up. It was somewhat easier this way, not having to carry her back to his apartment. Especially since this was against her will. He stared at her and shook his head in annoyance. "You talk way too much." He grumbled.

"And you talk far too little." She retorted, tossing her hair over her right shoulder, laughing in her strange Romani accent. In the process, she tripped over a curb and pulled her ankle in a funny way. "La dracu'!" She cursed in Romanian. He had finally gotten a grasp on how she spoke. She was a gypsy, she had told him, but her languages ranged from her mother tongue, Romanian, to Hungarian, to Old Egyptian (his own tongue), to English, and even to Japanese. She looked fully gypsy-esque, with dark tanned skin, bright emerald green eyes that sparkled like the brightest of gems, and long thick black hair. The hair itself was a marvel of nature with a mixture with highlights of white, silver, orange, blond and red so it looked like a dying fire. He had an image flash through his mind of holding his pale skin up in contrast to hers and running his fingers through her thick hair. He shoved the image aside, remembering the distinct reasons why he had kidnapped her, although he was starting to regret his choice of person. She grinned at him and laughed at her own ignorance. "Verdammt curb. What is your name, anyway? When I get kidnapped, I prefer to who it is who has me."

The last sentence was said in such a sarcastic tone that it ground his teeth. "Shut up." He growled, brushing a thick hunk of white hair out his chocolate eyes, speeding up a bit more.

She was honestly tempted to say, "Or you'll do what?" but deep down, she was truly afraid of what he could do, but there was nothing he could do to silence her short of a gag or knocking her out. "No, I won't." She snapped back angrily, determined not to back down. In a low mimic of his voice, she growled, "Asshole."

With that simple word, he grabbed her throat with one pale hand and smacked her against one of the concrete walls. She slammed her head hard and bit back a cry of pain. She reached up with her bound hands and tried to loosen his grip, feeling the lack of oxygen coming into her brain, but to no avail. She noticed his muscled arms twitching in annoyance and shuddered at the fire of hatred and anger in his eyes. There was something else, deep inside of his mind that was happening with this event but she couldn't divine it. He hissed, "Listen to me, you whore. I will not take any of your bitching today, tomorrow, or any other day. You are just as worthless as any other slut I steal off the streets. If you call me that again, I will kill you right where you stand. You will do exactly as I tell you, understand?"

In response, she grabbed his throat in her dark hands, digging her long nails in. As he squirmed in pain, she kicked him in the groin as hard as she could and when he dropped her, she threw him against the wall as hard as she could. Taking the chance, she started to run back the way she came. Deeply angry with him, she hissed, "No one can tell me what to do and no one certainly can call me a whore or slut. That would mean I would be exactly like my mother."

He rubbed his throbbing skull and looked up just in time to see her turn a corner far away. He snarled, jumped to his feet and chased after with inhuman speed. No one ran away from him, no would even dare, except for this pathetic girl. He reached under his blue jacket and pulled out a gold ring with several small gold points hanging from it that hung around his neck on a leather cord. "Get your ass back here, bitch." With the strange powers he had, he dragged her back from ten blocks away, caught her in his arms and flung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "No one runs away from me, cunt. No one."

"Does every sentence you say to me have to include a swear word?" She growled, elbowing him in the back of the neck. "And I won't be told what to do like a pet dog. Remember that."

He rolled his eyes and replied, "I hate having to do this."

"I'm sure it annoys you, but it shouldn't be hateable." With this, she smirked. "By the way, my name's Čigānu; Čigānu Morrisane (say Chi-gan).What's yours?"

"I wasn't interested." He hissed. It seems fitting that her name was Latvian for gypsy, fitting her bloodline perfectly. At first, he considered not telling her his name, leaving her in a mystery. Finally, he decided that he would tell her. It would be interesting to know if she had heard of him. "My name's Bakura." He replied in a tone that implied no more talking. He started walking briskly in an overpowering silence.

- About three hours later

Čigānu woke up tied to a bed in a dark unoccupied room that smelt of fear and pain. She slowly rubbed her bruised cheek with her shoulder and winced with the pain from both parts of her body, remembering the massive beating Bakura had given her the previous evening right when they had gotten home. Rather, his home, where she was staying against her will until further notice. He was always so angry at her and the other occupant of the apartment, who she hadn't met yet. What on Earth could have caused such anger in a human being? Then she remembered the gold necklace around is neck and how he had dragged her back to him from ten blocks away without touching her. Was he even human at all?

A creaking noise came from the far side of the room as the door opened and a white head poked through. "Bakura?" She asked curiously, sitting bolt upright.

"Shhhh." The figure said with an even heavier English accent than Bakura. He quickly ran over to the bed and started to undo the knots that held her down.

"Don't." Čigānu grabbed his arm, shaking her head in clear disagreement. "What happens when Bakura finds out?"

"How do you know his name?" The boy asked.

"I asked him and he told me." Čigānu replied. "Who are you, anyways?"

"I'm Ryou." He whispered, letting go of the ropes and pulled out an icepack. "I'm Bakura's host. I've gotten used to this. You don't know how many girls Bakura has kidnapped and brought home. He beats them all. You're probably his new favourite; this is a fairly light beating that he gave you."

She decided that she wouldn't ask what he meant by being Bakura's host. So she changed the subject as quickly as possible. "You are very handsome, Ryou."

"I look exactly like Bakura." Ryou replied dryly. "You're obviously wondering why do."

Sure enough, now that Ryou was in the right light, she could see that Ryou bore a striking resemblance to Bakura."Not since we've been talking, no." Čigānu replied smoothly, taking the icepack with her elbow and holding it against her bruised cheek. "I'm Čigānu, by the way. I'd shake your hand, but as you can see, it's kind of tied up at the moment."

Ryou smiled for the first time that day. "So you aren't just a pretty face, Čigānu. You've got a good sense of humor. You actually have good common sense and can function under stress."

"You sound like a psychiatrist." She retorted in an annoyed tone. "So, now that it's in my mind, why do you look like Bakura?"

"Of course you would ask." Ryou moaned. "I'm Bakura's host, as I said earlier. Bakura's spirit used to live in the Millenium Ring; you know that thing he wears around his neck. He used to possess my body and finally, he did it so much that when we were separated, we looked exactly alike."

"There are still some differences, Ryou." She said quietly. "Your voice sounds different, and you look much more polished than Bakura. Also, I can sense somewhere that you're afraid of him. Bakura would never let that fear show in any time that I've known him. But what did you mean by spirit?" She asked.

"It's a long story. Let's just say Bakura died a long, long time ago." Ryou smiled again. "Hey, at least I'm telling this story to someone who has enough sense to ask a good question AND managed to see the small differences between that monster and me."

"Indeed." Bakura's deep growling voice came from the door, where he leaned on the doorframe, entirely framed by the daylight coming in so that you couldn't see his face. "Ryou, I told you NOT TO COME IN HERE!"

"You can't just keep on kidnapping random girls!" Ryou protested, but his rant was cut off by Bakura's hand wrapped around his throat.

"I can, and I will, whether you like it or not, you filthy pansy." Bakura growled. "And what was that about you calling me a monster?"

"Hey, căţea -breath Bakura, you can't just grab your host like that!" He turned in surprise and saw Čigānu staring at him in pure anger. "Put Ryou down. NOW."

Sure enough, Bakura was so surprised that he dropped Ryou straight to the ground. Ryou rubbed his throat in thankfulness that it had been let go. Bakura, however, advanced carefully towards her, his chocolate eyes alive in distain. "You're incredibly stupid, you know that, girl? You know that I could kill you right now and no one would know the wiser?"

"I know vaguely what you are capable of, Bakura, but I have a slight feeling that you won't do that." Čigānu had a deep belief in this and she kept her green eyes leveled perfectly into his, sending him a message with her body language that she was not going to back down from his rage. "You are full of rage and hate, as far as I can see, but deep down, there must be some spark of decency and kindness."

Bakura blinked. Ryou gaped in surprise. This girl who had only recently entered their lives had now torn through Bakura's guard as if it was hot butter. Bakura was astounded and most surprisingly of all, he was able to find that spark of decency inside of him. How had she known what he felt like? Was she some messenger from the gods to torment him? He slowly got up and walked out of the room. Turning his head, he called, "Both of you, get something to eat. And don't talk to me!"

Ryou stared at her and said, "How did you do that?"

"You know what? I have absolutely no idea." Čigānu loosened her ropes and managed to free herself. "Come on, Ryou, race you to the kitchen!" And together, the two teenagers ran into the kitchen, bumping into each other like they were in bumper cars.

Meanwhile, Bakura silently watched them, trying to decipher the girl. "Čigānu," he whispered, as if it was a treasured possession or a lost secret. "Why did Fate choose you to be my next victim? And why aren't you afraid of me?"

Čigānu faintly heard Bakura's words and sighed. Under her breath, she whispered, "Bakura. Why in the name of all the gods did you pick me to take? Why are you so angry? Can I help you at all?"

Ryou looked at the two of them and shook his head. Two of the strongest people he had ever met were now in the wrong paths of life. There were going to be fights, there was going to be blood, and there was definitely going to be tears. He could feel it.

Read and review! Thank you so much!