A/N: Warning. This story has taken a darker turn.

Chapter Three:

The Breakdown

It had been many years since she had experienced the near-blinding fear that was sparking through her body at that very moment. Unable to do more than shiver, she struggled to take in air as the evil spirit took a step forward into her apartment, rain water trailing off his coat and hitting the carpeted floor. Above her, Bakura was looking around, surveying the apartment with a critical eye. He smirked, raising an eyebrow at her in silent question. She made no move to respond, so he simply shrugged and began looking around again, this time with clear distaste.

"Even for you this is a disappointment. In your little life speeches, did you forget to include yourself?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked her over. "In your underwear… smelling like a wet cat… how revolting."

Somewhere within the bone-chilling fright that was threatening to consume her, a hot spark of indignant fury broke through the dark haze. Beside her, she heard Max let out an angry hiss, further drawing her to the present.

Bakura was in her home, degrading her, taking all that she had worked so hard on obtaining and turning it into something less than worthy. It was the highest of insults, like a direct slap in her face, and the fear disappeared completely. All that was left was her quickly burning hatred. Clothing or no, she stood up, wrapped the blanket around her, and fixed him with the angriest scowl she could muster.

"Why are you here?" demanded Téa in a shaking whisper, adrenaline rushing through her body. "What do you want?"

On his own time, he ignored her for the first few moments, staring disdainfully at the hissing creature backed up against the futon. "I happened to be in the neighborhood," he answered suddenly, swinging his gaze back up to hers, his poisonous lips stretched in a feral smile. "I decided that perhaps you'd like a bit of company. Although…" He yawned, regarding the apartment with a blasé expression. "This was a complete letdown. I had hoped that perhaps your life would have been a little more interesting, what with you having spouted all that nonsense about dreams and so forth all those years ago."

"Things change," she replied sharply, venom laced in every syllable. She marched forward, going so far as to poke him in the shoulder, her bright eyes burning in his irritated brown ones. "And now, you leave. Get out of my apartment."

Bakura swatted her hand away, his eyes drawn down in an unflinching scowl. "How rude," he growled out, "even after I traveled so far just to see you, little Téa."

"Five blocks away isn't 'far'," sassed Téa, a sarcastic smirk marring her pretty face.

That drew a reaction from him. His eyebrows arched slightly- but only slightly before they narrowed back down, amusement flashing in his eyes. He shook a finger at her, chuckling. "Ah Téa, I really shouldn't underestimate you, no matter how easy it is."

"Out." She pointed to the door. "Now."

He watched her, silence falling over them, save for the still hissing cat. She remained stock still, her resolve unwavering, her command unshakable. At least, in the face of any other opponent. But Bakura wasn't 'any other' anything; he was Bakura, and when met with a challenge, he always did the same thing: presented his own.

"I don't think so." He dismissed her casually, walking right past her as if swatting away an irritating fly. "I think I'll make myself right at home." Ignoring the cat as it bolted away, disappearing into a hallway, he threw his wet jacket on the floor, kicked off his boots, and fell into the futon, swinging his feet up onto the old coffee table and crossing them, relaxing back into his arms. He let out a long, content sigh before looking back at her. He smirked.

"Try to move me," he said audaciously, a wicked grin on his face. "I dare you."

Téa, stunned, remained poised before the door, her thought process suddenly grinding to an abrupt halt, the blatant disregard for her command driving a giant wedge into any sense that still remained after his shocking arrival. Turning slowly, like a rusted machine, she stared at him with wide eyes, the kind of expression that occurred when one was so angry, so absolutely ticked, there was no physical representation of any kind that could properly convey one's feelings.

"Wh… H… You…!"

Bakura was picking up one of the takeout boxes, shaking it around as he looked at it's contents. He sniffed. "I've had better," he commented backhandedly before tipping the contents into his mouth.

Oddly enough, that snapped Téa out of her reverie.

"That's my food!"

"Not anymore."

At her wit's end, she couldn't think of anything else to do except the one thing she wanted to avoid all together, but he wasn't giving her any choice. "That's it." She stomped over to the kitchen, picking up the phone and beginning to dial. "I'm calling the cops--"

She would never understand how he moved how he did, which was completely reasonable. The things he did- his actions, his thoughts, the things he said- were all locked away in a separate realm far different than the one she lived in. So when he suddenly appeared beside her, disconnected phone cord in his hand, the only thought that passed through her head was, I wish I could do that…

"Téa," chided Bakura, slowly removing the phone from her slack hand, "do you really want to call the police? Honestly…" He stretched the spiraled cord out, wrapping it around his hands. "I thought you were smarter than that." He snapped it taut, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You are a smart girl, aren't you?"

She eyed the telephone cord hesitantly, taking a step back. "You don't scare me," she whispered, even though she found herself unable to take her eyes away from something she once thought of as harmless. Leave it to Bakura to ruin something so mundane.

He laughed, and her eyes jerked upward. "You're very entertaining. It shows how little you know about me." He leaned forward, so far forward that she herself had to lean back, bending awkwardly over the kitchen counter until she toppled backwards, his shadow covering her as both of his hands rested on either side of her. His long white mane tumbled down around them, the edges of his hair tickling against her exposed neck.

"Dearest Téa," he mocked in the kindest tone possible, his hot breath caressing her flushed face, "I hope to change that lack of knowledge." His smirk grew toothier. "We are going to have a grand old time."

There was something frighteningly hypnotizing about his voice, like dark crushed velvet sliding across her skin, wrapping around her and drawing her forward. Nauseous and revolted, she pushed him away, holding a hand to her forehead. She was starting to break out in a cold sweat, her hands becoming clammy. She had encountered dark magic before, but the aura that Bakura gave off was on a completely different level. His was uncomfortable and frightening because it was so otherworldly. Holding a hand to her heart, she swallowed as she felt her irregular heartbeat.

Dammit… How does he do that?

Apparently, the thief knew of the kind of effects his voice could have. He was smirking at her knowingly, the hints of cruel laughter glinting in his eyes. Then, he turned away, and Téa immediately took in a steady breath, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. He spoke to her as he went back over to the phone, plugging it back in.

"I'm glad we have reached a consensus, Téa," he said, turning back around only to head directly to the fridge. He opened it, peering inside. "I will not be here too long- there is only so much time I will spend in a dump like this." He shut the fridge door, opening the last soda she had. He smirked at her over the rim of his drink. "But I'm sure what little time we do share together shall be… interesting, to say in the least."

Téa watched everything with a cold, steely expression. There was no fighting the man before her. It was a battle she would never be able to win. She could still hate him, though.

"Fine," she spat out, hatred and disgust filling every word. "You can stay here a few days-- two, tops."

In mid drink, his eyebrows shot up, and then he pulled away, laughing. "Oh Téa," he snickered through nasty laughter, "it's so cute, the way you think you have any say in the matter." He walked right on by, shaking his head in disbelief. "So naive-- almost stupid, in fact."

She bit her tongue from saying anything that could end in her dismemberment, but it was so hard. She hated him so much, and she had every right to. He had betrayed her friends, betrayed her; he had used her, took control of her and… and raped her mind. She had felt so scared, so lost, so unaware of who or even what she was…

But she had always known he would come back. Always.

She just didn't think it was going to be to her.

"Don't steal anything," she bit out spitefully before turning on her heel and heading into her room- slamming the door shut and locking it soundly.

Bakura smirked at her anger. She really was amusing, but only then. It was only a matter of time before amusement would turn into frustration, and frustration into anger, and anger to… It all depended on what kind of treasure 'Innocent Little Téa' was hiding.

He had followed Téa to her apartment successfully. For a short while, he thought that she had actually and in all reality gotten herself severely lost. Most of the time she was so enveloped in her thoughts that he wasn't sure that following her was going to do any good at all and would have forced him to turn to modern day conveniences to try and locate her address. Eventually however, by some guiding hands or perhaps a string of luck, she managed to make it back to her house. To his surprise, she lived above an oriental restaurant, which was in the oddest of locations. Why have one there in the middle of Chinatown? Why not somewhere where it could be a unique convenience? But that was a simple thought for another time, so he had waited outside, listening just outside the door to the conversation that had unfolded within.

He smirked when he listened to the girl being reprimanded in sharp Japanese. Even better, she was taking each and every bit of it like a shamed child would. Then Chichi- at least, that was what Téa called her- went back into the kitchen, and Téa went up the stairs.

So, he had thought, considering the situation, there is going to be a bit of a problem with that old hag. He was going to have to deal with her-- one way, or another.

He settled against the wall of the restaurant, waiting. He did not want to walk in suspiciously right behind Tea. Bored within the first few minutes, he decided to do a bit of scouting. Going back out into the rain, he walked around the perimeter of the building. There were two skinny alleyways on both sides, each of them relatively cleared compared to most other side streets. He took the left side, encountering a dumpster, a door leading to what he suspected was the kitchen, and a fire escape. Peering upward, he saw that there were six levels to the building, although most of them were clearly out of use, some of the windows broken or boarded up. On the third floor however, there was a small light, the kind of light that comes from a television. Wiping the water out of his eyes, he went over to the fire escape, tested it, and prepared to climb up.

No.

He stopped. It was too easy. There wasn't any challenge to it at all, none whatsoever. Sure, it would have been fun to see her reaction as he waltzed right in through her window, but he wasn't going to do it all the time. He had more respect and honor for himself than to be sneaking around like a rat constantly. So, with a sigh, he let go of the ladder and went back to the front door.

He finally entered the restaurant about an hour later. Any thoughts of sneaking up the stairs unnoticed flew right out the door, for the moment his feet touched the gaudy red and gold carpet, Chichi burst through the door, swinging a wooden spoon in her hand as if it was the last one on the planet.

"What did I tell you, girl-- oh." The old woman dropped her hands, regarding him curiously for the briefest moment, and then she eyed him suspiciously, switching from Japanese to English. "What's a young man like yourself doing in a place like this so early?"

"Well, I--"

"You wouldn't happen to want a bit of soup and tea, would you?" She asked it in the most hospitable, delightful voice, which immediately led Bakura to believe that the old woman was much more cunning than she let on. "But if you do," she said, and then her face fell, and she looked at him, hand outstretched, her tone purely business. "It's going to cost you." She flexed her fingers back, as if beckoning for his money to come dancing out of his pockets.

More to her indeed. "No," he dismissed her immediately. She snorted and turned back around, but he stopped her. "But I am here to see Téa, my…" He grasped for an answer, any answer. "Cousin."

At the mention of her name, the woman stopped mid step. And then, far too fast for her short stature, she was upon him, staring up at him with inky black eyes, a frown on her wrinkled face. "Is that so?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Yes," he replied shortly in Japanese to prove his point, not at all intimidated by this woman. In fact, he leaned down over her, his eyes narrowing, the shadow of his form engulfing hers. He spoke slowly, accentuating each and every letter. "It is, in fact, so." He stared at her for a moment, and then, he saw it- that small spark of fear that he loved so much. Cocking his head slightly, he smiled briefly before pulling back and heading up the stairs.

"I-I'm watching you!" Chichi warned, and he could hear the whistling of her spoon behind him as it swished through the air. "I don't care who you are; I'll beat you down quicker than you can blink!"

He ignored her empty jibe, going up the stairs and reaching a small hallway. It was another part of the restaurant, most likely set up for private parties. It clearly hadn't been used in a long time- perhaps not ever- for it was also being used as a storage room, combined with a work bench. A couch missing it's cushions was pushed to the back, and a vacuum was on it's side, springs and coils littered beneath it.

The third floor was simple, a small hallway, a door in the middle of the left wall, and an obnoxious floor mat out front, a cartoon cat waving, saying, "Welcome!" in bold, bright letters.

Some things do not change, he thought to himself, but he decided to look at the three other levels first.

The doors were locked, but that didn't stop him. With a makeshift lock pick- a nail- he managed to get the doors unlocked. His efforts however went wasted, as there was absolutely nothing on any of the levels accept for the random bits of garbage, the occasional rat droppings, and a drifting odor that reminded him of mold.

"Disgusting," he mumbled to himself, locking up on the way back. "What kind of place is this girl living in?"

It was a dump. It was a disaster. It was just as the cards had foretold.

And so, when Téa had opened the door and he stepped inside, the feeling of something amiss, something out of place, something substantial, was not a surprise. It merely instilled a confidence inside of him and a resolve that said he was not to be moved, not until he discovered the source.

"But what could it be?" he murmured to himself as he sat on the couch, arms crossed before him, face drawn down in thoughtful scowl. "Clearly the Pharaoh's hand is at play here, but what could he have possibly done that had left such a simple girl with a divine treasure?"

Or, perhaps he was over thinking things. Yes, the Ace of Pentacles represented treasure, but with a reading that was so emotional and dark, there was a chance that the treasure was not tangible, but spiritual in it's existence. If that was the case, then there was a possibility he was searching for something that would benefit him very little-- but then again, the Hanged Man made itself very clear. He was supposed to be there, supposed to get that treasure, whatever it was.

Real or not, whatever that girl has, I require it. His readings never lied. But to get it, her fortune would have to come true. The darkness he had read would have to remain as it was. If he wanted the end that the cards predicted--

"I must extinguish her light."

The cat hissed at him loudly, the hair on it's back standing straight up into the air. Bakura frowned; he disliked cats. He disliked them very, very much, and no amount of time would change that. With a snarl, he hissed at the creature with bitter contempt. The cat screeched and leapt out of the open window, bee lining up the stairs and disappearing, the end of his gray tail the last thing he saw. Bakura, a satisfied smirk on his face, leaned back into the couch, picked up a box of rice, and began to eat, watching the early morning nonsense on the beaten up television.

Within the dark bedroom of the apartment, Téa lay atop her bedspread, her hair splayed out behind her, her bright blue eyes now dark and drawn down into a frightened expression. Grey was under her eyes, and every time she blinked, she did so slowly, as if wanting them to remained closed. But she couldn't. Not with him in the house.

"I don't get it," she whispered to herself finally after sitting in silence for half an hour, "why in the world is he here?"

Perhaps it had to do with her tarot reading? But what in the world could it had said that would compel him to track her down and cause her so much distress?

"No," she spat angrily, "he doesn't need a reason. He's Bakura."

And he had been Bakura for a very long time. His other half- the true half, Ryou- hadn't made a single appearance during their last year of high school. At least, during what time he was actually there. Most of the time Bakura simply showed up to show up, reminding people that he was still there, still dangerous. Most of the time however, he was there to cause trouble- especially with her and her friends.

What in the world could have happened to Ryou? wondered Téa. Surely the spirit hasn't engulfed him… right?

But Ryou was such a sweet boy, and so gentle, so kind. Then, there was the spirit, Bakura, who resided within the Millennium Ring. To have that burden upon one's shoulders, every single day having to deal with such a dark, dark being… Thinking about it made Téa fear for the British boy, a boy she hadn't thought of for so long without having to spit out his name with distaste. Guilt filled her heart, and she turned her face into the pillow, trying to smother the ugly feeling.

"Well," she mumbled into her pillow, turning her face back around so she could properly breathe, "in any case, there isn't anything I can do about Bakura now." Even if he hadn't displayed such an intimidating act with her phone, who could she call who would even believe her? And if they did end up believing her, who could stop someone with the power of darkness at their disposal?

Only one person, she thought as she turned on her side, and he is not to be discussed.

Her eyes fell on her closet. She stared for a moment, and then she turned back around.

"Not to be discussed."

Eventually, due to sheer exhaustion, she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes and read 7:50 on her clock, it took until 7:52 to realize she was going to be late for work with Chichi.

"Oh dear lord!" she exclaimed, jumping out of bed. Stumbling over junk and trash and dirty clothes, she practically fell onto the door knob and jerked open her door-- or, at least tried. It was locked, for some strange reason. Unlocking it, she successfully opened the door, and then she rushed right into the bathroom. Not bothering to wait for the hot water, she leapt directly in, cursing as the cold water hit her sensitive skin. At least a little more awake, she hastily washed her hair and body, shut off the water, and then scrambled for a towel-- a towel that was still in her room.

Crying out loud, she rushed- very nakedly- back into her room, grabbed the towel she didn't use on Max, and hastily dried off, dressing herself in the process.

This is ridiculous! her thoughts complained as she pulled up her wet hair into a sloppy bun. First, I have a bad day at work. Then, I get lost. Finally, I dream about that godforsaken--

Bakura.

Her whole body went cold. Freezing, it took her a moment to collect her thoughts and her bravery. Slowly, she peered around the corner of her door into the living room.

No shoes. No coat. No presence of him at all. It had all been a dream, just as she thought it was.

Feeling a little better, she shoved her feet into a pair of sneakers, double-checked to see if everything was off, and then she rushed out of the door, feet beating against the stairs as she rushed to work, the seconds ticking off in her mind, almost there, just a few more….!

"Téa!"

She nearly tripped and slammed her face into the stairs, Chichi suddenly appearing before her. Or, she had already been there, and it was Téa's blind fear that caused her to not notice her presence. Righting herself clumsily, she blinked, Chichi's eyes boring into hers.

"Téa Gardner," growled out Chichi, smacking her spoon against one hand warningly, "you are two minutes late."

"Wh-what? No, I can't be! I--" Téa pointed back behind her frantically. "My clock, and the shower- and- and no towel, and-- I was running, Chichi, honestly, and then he--!"

Chichi pointed sharply with her spoon downstairs. "Apron. Now. You have a customer waiting!"

Any feeble attempts to explain her actions died on her lips, like a boiling pot losing it's bubble. Her finger dropped, and her shoulders sagged. She hung her head, defeated. Chichi's spoon was law, and the law said, Téa-Is-Late-Do-Not-Pass-Go. And her two hundred dollar paycheck was not going to be collected.

"Get a move on!" snapped Chichi, already toddling back down the stairs. "Your cousin isn't going to wait forever!"

Her head snapped up. Wait a minute-- cousin?

Téa didn't have any cousins. And even if she did, there was no way that any of them would know where to find her. So then, who could it…?

No…

Her head fell back, an agonized groan coming from her, Chichi staring at her as if she had sprouted a pair of horns and matching hooves. "Nnnooo…." She stopped her foot childishly. "No, this isn't fair, out of all the things, no!"

But she had a job to do, and she had obligations to attend to. So, with a sulking disposition, she went down the stairs and didn't even spare a passing glance at Bakura, sitting in a table on the other side of the room, as she walked into the kitchen.

Bakura smiled into his cup of tea. It was going to be a fun day.

Téa knew that the day was going to be the worst day of her life. There was no denying it, so she accepted it, embraced it. At least she would already know the worst of the worst, and it couldn't get any lower-- at least, she hoped.

The first mark of the worst day of her life was the look Chichi was giving her an hour later as Téa stacked some orders onto her arms.

"Téa," interrupted Chichi suddenly, startling Téa out of her concentration as she prepared to stack a sixth plate onto her already large burden.

"Oh, sorry Chichi. I just thought that I'd be able to handle it--"

"That man is not your cousin, is he?"

Téa's mouth went sour at the mention of the thief spirit. "No, he isn't," she said curtly as she headed to the door.

"Then who is he?"

She stopped again. Chichi wasn't going to let her leave without a proper answer.

"He's… It's really complicated Chichi. But we go way back." She went quiet, slowly pushing through the doors. "Way, way back…"

Chichi, watching Téa leave, clicked her tongue against her cheek, stirring a pot of soup slowly. "Watch yourself, Téa," she warned lowly, a hint of concern wrinkling her face even more. "He gives off dark vibes."

The restaurant was occupied by the few regulars that the Bearded Dragon had. Téa, on the serving floor, made sure to serve everyone else first before she slowly made her way back in Bakura's direction. When she reached his table, he didn't even look up, his eyes focused on the newspaper she had fetched for him. She even cleared her throat, but still gained no response.

"Fine," she growled, dropping a bowl of rice before him, "whatever. Don't talk to me. I prefer it that way." She spun on the ball of her heel, turned up her nose, and walked away.

"Do you always treat your customers with so little respect?"

She turned back around, hatred burning in her irises. Marching back to him, she put a hand on the table, fixing him with a beautiful, deadly smile. "Sir," she sounded out rudely, "the only time I'm nice to someone is when I'm paid to be nice. And you…" She pointed at him, as if gesturing to a pile of rotting garbage. "Well, you would have to pay a lot."

Téa did not bother once to consider the consequences of her words before she went back into the kitchen, doors swinging behind her. Bakura, eyes off his paper, was slowly beginning to smirk, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his eyes. Then, he sipped his tea and returned to his paper.

Téa worked until two, and then she got off to complete a few chores around the city. She had been looking forward to the time alone, that was until Bakura neatly folded up his newspaper, paid his bill, and walked right out behind her, his hands in his pockets as if joining her for a casual stroll.

"What are you doing?" she growled at him, forcing her eyes to stay focused before her on the crowded sidewalk.

"I'm following you," was his curt reply, giving her a belittling look.

"I'm not an idiot, I know you're following me!"

"Then why did you ask?"

"I don't-- I didn't say you could!" She shot him a dirty look. "Go back home!"

Just to insult her, he quickened his pace until he was walking right along beside her. He smirked down nastily at her. "Oh Téa, I'm so happy you think of me as a part of your home." He rolled his eyes away from her. "Although I must decline your offer. Your lifestyle is too… unsatisfactory."

Téa's eye twitched, and she took a step away from him, clasping her purse close next to her, grasping it with a white-knuckled ferocity. The way he so casually insulted her with such grace was almost a gift. An ugly, unwelcome gift that was testing her well-tempered patience to it's limits.

Why am I bothering with this… this ass? She already knew the answer however; she bothered with him because if she didn't entertain his sudden and inexplicable desire to drop by and drive her insane with his obscene rudeness, the dark and dangerous part of him that always lingered might lash out, and she would be no more.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was eyeing the world around him, constantly vigilant, always wondering who would be the next sucker to come stumbling into the traps around him. At least, that's what she safely assumed was going through his head. The glint in his expression, the way his eyes would dart when a traveling salesman's cart would travel by, laden with golden trinkets; how he would gently brush past someone, and his hand would shift slightly in his pockets unflinchingly; they were all characteristics of a thief beyond from just being a pickpocket. He had a dark shadow, a deadly shadow, and she feared him deeply.

Maybe… I'm in over my head.

It was the first time she seriously began to question her situation. Back in high school, she hadn't been able to defend herself against his attack. She had been consumed in his darkness, drowning in his shadows. It had taken the help of her companions to draw her out.

Now, she was on her own, in every sense of the word. And Bakura seemed more intent than ever to turn his tunnel vision upon her. As his target, his prey, did she stand a chance against him?

Her doubts hit a mental wall-- hard. She scowled deeply at herself. Where had her confidence gone? Where was that I-can-make-it-on-my-own attitude? She didn't need anyone else because she had herself. She would make it happen, make her future happen, and if that meant dealing with a white-haired roadblock, then so be it. Besides, she had learned a lot from her time alone in the States. She fought her own battles, dealt with her own problems, and more than once danced right out of them with as much grace as she did going in.

Bakura was just another challenge, another test that she would have to overcome in order to prove her worthiness to stay on her own. And even though he was making it hard, she would get past his cruelty and boot him out right onto his butt.

I'll show you! her thoughts shouted angrily. I'll show everyone!

Although she sounded confident- and she was, at the time- it was, after all, the worst day of her life. As the worst day of her life, the world was going out of it's way to prove to Téa just how wrong she was.

Every. Single. Store.

Every single store- from the post office, the grocery store, the pharmacy- Bakura was able to come up with colorful combinations of insults and snide comments that drilled into her like rusty screws. There was no pattern to them, or any certain act that she would commit that would bring them on. He would just start talking as she was in the middle of a task, his mocking tones making her teeth grind. It was as if his entire existence was just to drive her insane with rage until she snapped.

In the blandest analogy possible, he a horsefly, biting at her neck, escaping just before she moved to slap him away.

She imagined a fly, complete with a Bakura head, and then felt mental satisfaction as she watched her imagination pummel him to death with an assortment of fly swatters. Her eyes became lidded, a deliriously happy smile fading slowly onto her face. She listened to his small squeaks as she mercilessly beat him over and over until he was a smear on a table.

Fingers snapping in her ear pulled her out of daydream so violently, she dropped the bag of pills she got from the pharmacist. Before she could pick them up, his hand was in the way, snatching them up just as her fingers brushed across the white paper. He didn't even bother to spare a second glance as he began to walk away, opening the white bag.

Téa's face flamed bright red. "G-Give those back!" she demanded, reaching for the pills. He held her back with one hand on her forehead as she swung to reach him, his eyes moving as he the description on the package. Then, he turned to her, cruel amusement stretching his lips into a toothy smirk. He chuckled low, and her face turned flat crimson as she snatched the pills from his proffered hand.

"Little Téa, taking birth control?" His chuckle grew deeper. "Now why on earth would she-"

"I'm not little, and stop talking as if I'm not here." She shoved the medication deep within her purse, shooting him a nasty glare. "And it's none of your business."

"Really?" he questioned, and then he was holding the package back in front of his face, reading the description. Téa's eyes flew wide, and she grabbed her purse, pulling it wide open, staring down at the empty spot where the pills once rested. "Well I think it is my business."

"How'd you-?" She growled with frustration and held out her hand before her, incensed. "Give them back."

Whatever he read, it wasn't very interesting, so he tossed them back in her general direction. Why they were there, however, was a question he was still entertaining delightfully. "So, you've been getting around, have you?" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slyly. "Company who can pay, hm?"

"Shut up," she snapped at him, "you have no idea what you're talking about." She stormed out of the pharmacy's parking lot. She spotted the bus, and she felt a glimmer of hope. She ran to the bus stop just as it slowed down to pick up a few passengers. Looking back behind, she frowned when she came face to face with Bakura. His eyebrow quirked slightly; an expression of irritancy.

"You really didn't think you'd get away so easily?" he questioned as they stepped onto the bus. She paid her fare, and then watched him pull out his wallet-- or rather, a wallet, a leopard-printed thing that clearly wasn't his. He caught her eyes, and then, just to irk her, waved the wallet at her as if displaying a trophy, and then he slipped it into his pocket.

She rolled her eyes at him, and then she turned around to find a seat near the front. Once again, she was dealt the wrong hand, and Bakura took a seat next to her, a seat that was conveniently vacated by a mumbling hobo who got off at their stop. So, ankles crossed, arms holding her purse to her chest, Téa turned away from Bakura, preparing to ignore him the entire ten minutes it would take to get back to her apartment.

He, however, had other ideas.

"So," he said after a few minutes, "how many men do you see on average?"

Her eyes widened with embarrassment. A few curious eyes turned in their direction, and more than a few snickers filtered through the air. She turned to him, hissing, "What do you think you're doing?!"

"That really is becoming to be a very tedious question," he yawned. He propped his arms up on the seat and leaned his head back, his eyes filled with extreme boredom. "So, what? One hundred a pop?" He scratched his chin. "Or is it two?"

"Shut it," she growled, forcing her eyes to the window.

"Do you charge extra for special circumstances? Maybe more for a little…" He swiped his tongue across his teeth, making an obscene gesture with his hand. "If so, I might know a few guys who would just love to meet you." He fixed her with an absurdly serious look. "But for these guys, you would have to be very good at fu--"

"Shut up!"

Now the whole front of the bus was focused on them, if not on the obscene conversation, but at the peculiar man and the odd necklace around his neck. The whisperings were getting louder, fingers pointing. Téa, on the verge of screaming, reached out and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it with the tips of her nails, her reddening eyes narrowing in smoldering fury.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded in a whisper. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"

His eyes drifted over to her hand, and then, like lightning, her wrist was in his grasp, his hand tightening with every passing second. She gasped in pain, but he silenced her with a warning look. From anyone else, it would look like two lovers holding hands, and he was leaning in for a kiss… But his words clashed with his expression, and an ugly, sick tone fell from his pale lips, his hot breath filling her ear.

"When do I ever need a reason to do anything?" he murmured to her. "Hm?" He waited for a response, but she could not form one. She was too busy trying to concentrate on her shortening breath, her fingers going numb.

She listened to her heartbeat, wishing that he would pull away, and then she choked when his mouth brushed slightly against her ear, a chuckle reverberating through his throat. "It would be best that you just… gave in. For all parties involved." She felt him turn his head slightly. "Don't you think?"

She swallowed heavily, bile rising up into her throat. This was… too familiar. This was dangerous, and if she didn't assert herself then, then the velvety words he was whispering in her ear would slowly slip inside, draping themselves across her mind, slowly making her sink back into the darkness…

"Seventh!"

The bus dinged, and then came to a stop, the airlocks releasing. Téa came back to herself, blinking rapidly. Swiftly, she turned her eyes to Bakura. He was frowning at the driver, the barest hint of a snarl coming from him. Taking her chance, she tore her wrist from his careless grasp so violently, it startled even him. Ignoring the tingling in her palm, or the way her wrist burned, she adjusted her purse on her shoulder, shot him a cold glare, and then turned around and got off the bus, not caring one way or another as to what he did.

Bakura got off and followed right behind her as she stormed into the Bearded Dragon. Chichi, having heard the door slam open, came out of the kitchen, her ever present spoon swinging in the air. Whatever words she was going to say died on her lips, Téa having already disappeared up the stairs. Then, her eyes fell upon him, and she frowned deeply.

"What did you do?" she demanded in a poisonous tone.

He snorted at her, turning his head away, his hair swishing across his back. "None of your business, you old hag," he said in a low voice as he went up the stairs, ignoring the nasty look Chichi was giving him behind his back.

In the apartment, Téa was throwing a fresh pair of clothes into her duffel bag. He went up to her door, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he watched her blindly get her things together. His foot bumped up against a stack of whites, and he looked out, feeling mild surprise at the mess in the girl's room. Her bed, a worn out queen, was sliding slightly off the bottom mattress it sat on. The blinds on her window were yellow and missing a few pieces. More clothes were scattered around the floor and stacked around her closet, which he presumed she didn't use. The whole room smelt muggy and thick, but with a hint of what he could only assume was her own scent. Overall it was a rather disturbing scene, completely different from what he expected, even in her current living conditions.

He looked back to her, wondering if he could pull an explanation from her with a little bit of quiet scrutiny. Most of the time her back was to him, but every so often he would get a glimpse of her incensed expression, her blue eyes smoldering with hatred. It had been far too easy to get under her skin; there were already layers and layers of exhaustion that he could see on her, placed there long before his arrival. Anyone else who waked on by would not see it, but for someone who knew her- someone who knew the nature of humans in general- saw the cracks along her mask, revealing a graying creature underneath, void of it's light.

He would have to be careful, placing precise taps to different parts of her façade to draw out the answers he sought. It would require constant attention, lest she find a way to reverse the damage. Which meant her leaving wasn't acceptable.

"What are you doing?" he asked, taking a step into her room.

She turned to him, eyes blazing. "Out of my room, Bakura!" she snapped. When he didn't comply, she reached down and threw a shoe at him. He swatted it out of the air, the worn tennis shoe colliding with the wall and leaving a grey scuff mark in it's wake.

"Watch it, girl!" he snarled. He took another step in to her room- just to spite her- and with a dangerous glint in his eye he warned darkly, "You do not want to test my patience." He eyed her bag for a moment, and then gestured to it sharply. "I'll ask you only one more time: what are you doing?"

She fixed him with a hateful glare, her lips shaking with what he could assume were skillfully suppressed curses. Her hands gripping her bag with a shivering ferocity, she suddenly turned around and continued packing, her words carrying an icy tone.

"Work," she said, and before he could reply, she held up a firm hand. "And you're staying here!"

She was down to her very last good nerve with him. She had made a complete fool out of her on the bus- and that was only part of the day! Everywhere else they had gone, he always seemed to have something extremely lewd and disturbing to quip about, especially in the vicinity of others. At first she was just going to ignore him. If she didn't fuel the fire, it would die out- at least, that was what she had thought. If anything, her silence seemed to feed his flames and eventually she had snapped when he had stolen her birth control.

Thinking on the incident made a hot blush creep into her face. She only took them to be careful. Perhaps it was a small grace that she needed to be grateful about. It was better him thinking she was loose than a tight-legged prude. He'd of have even more to say about it, and her personal space would become even more violated.

I can't have any of that, whispered her scared thoughts, thinking about the incredibly seductive and dangerous aura of his that had nearly sent her to the ground in a heap of quivering jelly. She zipped and picked up her bag, ignoring the bland look Bakura was giving her room. Clearing her throat, she pointed angrily out into the hall.

"Out," she said a final time.

He almost appeared startled when he looked back to her, but he registered her words quickly and his dark brown eyes flashed angrily. "You seem to keep forgetting your place," he murmured menacingly, making her flinch. He read her reaction, and he faked a step forward, causing her trip and fall back on her bed. With a smug smirk, he turned around and went back into the hall, moving to go into the living room.

Téa grunted with pain and rolled off her bag, rubbing her thigh where her stiletto's heel had dug into her sensitive skin. She shot an angry glare in the direction where the white-haired menace had disappeared to and murmured a curse. "I hate that man," she whispered with utter hatred as she hauled herself back to her feet. Making sure to lock her door on the way back out, she crossed the living room and stopped at the front door, not bothering to spare him a passing glance.

"If you're not here when I get back, I'll assume you've left. Which is just fine with me." Her words were oozing poisonous contempt, and the air around her seemed to chill. With a flip of her hair, she exited the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Bakura listened to her descend the stairs, and then he rolled his eyes. "Such a haughty little bitch," he commented with a sneer. Folding his hands behind his head, he looked ahead of him out of the window. It was reaching the seventeenth hour and the sun was still bright in the sky. He could assume she would be gone until early the next morning. While he could go for days without sleep, waiting up for her could be quite boring, and if there was one thing he hated, it was being bored.

I could go through her room, he thought with a private snicker, her warnings falling on deaf ears. There was something of interest in that room, although he could not be sure as to what it was. It had only just caught his attention before she had interrupted him with her screeching.

Or, he continued on, I can do a bit of exploring.

He got up off the futon and went to the window, peering down into the alleyway below. Seeing nothing of interest, he stepped out onto the fire escape, going forward and resting a hand on iron railing, staring at the busy street in front of the building. There were many fools he could pick out just by glancing; an ignorant tourist separating himself from the crowd for a scenic picture; a woman scantily dressed with a spaghetti strap purse; an elderly woman trying to juggle overflowing shopping bags in her arms. They were all fresh pickings, little scores that helped him get his fix for a little bit of excitement.

Yet, in the wake of Téa's departure, none of those once satisfying targets remotely piqued his interest. There was only one thing he really wanted to do, and it involved her misplaced comment from earlier that morning.

"Sir, the only time I'm nice to someone is when I'm paid to be nice. And you… Well, you would have to pay a lot."

"Now why on Earth would my little Téa be saying such things…?" Of course he already had a pretty good idea, but to see where it all went down was a temptation he could not deny. So, with an ease that was far from being human, he leapt over the railing, grabbed hold of the support bar, and slid down the side of the fire escape, landing gracefully down below. Brushing his hands together to rid of the dirt, he stuck his hands into his pockets and strode out into the street, slipping in seamlessly into the crowd.

Apparently, Bakura had frazzled her nerves more than she had thought, for not a minute after she walked into Higgins, she was immediately swarmed by questions and less than careful prodding by Minnie.

"Oh woah girl, you look tired!" Minnie hovered over her as Téa put her bag down in front of her mirror, sinking tiredly down onto her stool. "What time did ya get home?"

"Four," she mumbled, her shoulders slumping at the memory. "I got lost."

"Lost?" Minnie sat down next to her, confusion plastered across her face. "But it's a one-way trip back to your house! How in da world did ya get lost?"

Téa was even too exhausted to correct Minnie, but she really didn't care at that moment. She was floating along the conversation like a numb body in a lazy river. She leaned forward and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, rubbing the spots out of her vision. "I was feeling frustrated, so I decided to take the long way home. I kind of lost focus and I took a wrong turn. Ended up completely turned upside down."

"But- But it rained-"

Téa laughed. "Oh, I know it rained." She sighed. "I tried to find shelter and the only place I could find was an old occult shop." She continued on dryly, "The help I received there was less than satisfactory." Sitting back up, she slowly unzipped her bag, yawning. "To make a long story short, I got four hours of sleep and the rest of my day was extremely long."

Minnie let out a low whistle, turning on her stool. "I do not wanna be you right now."

"No," replied Téa curtly as she unsnapped her cover-up loudly, "you do not."

Téa had deliberately left out Bakura's arrival. The less people who knew about him, the better. All he needed to make her life even more miserable was to find out if Téa had made any close companions. She wasn't as gung-ho as she used to be; she couldn't just drop everything in order to save someone anymore- ignoring the fact that it was she who had been in danger most of the time.

Details, details…

She applied her makeup heavily to mask her exhaustion. Just as she finished doing her hair- straightened and part pinned up with a pair of hair sticks- Roland walked in and began handing out that nights schedule. She would start of as a waitress, and would later be called into private rooms if she was needed. She let out a sigh of relief; serving the guests was usually very easy compared to private parties, although the tips were generally less. On the other hand, a waitress could usually pocket a few extra bucks under the table without the house knowing.

"We had a good night last night," said Roland in his smooth British accent, smoke rings puffing out of his ever-present pipe. "Let's see if we can have a repeat, hm?" His eyes caught Téa's, and he tipped his head at her ever so slightly before turning back around. "Five more minutes!"

Minnie nudged her in the side. "Looks like Roland's still pretty happy about that free McKinley, huh?"

"I wouldn't say it was 'free,' but yeah, it looks like." Another bonus. Dealing with an irritated Roland was like trying to calm down a rabid animal. There was no listening to reason. All they wanted to do was bite your head off. When he was happy, he was a puppy, albeit with a nicotine addiction and wandering eyes.

Shocking. I'd rather be here than back at home. But even if Roland was rabid, and she was working private rooms with a hundred thousand imp men, she would skip right into their perverted arms if it kept her away from the alabaster thief.

She let out a sigh to release the tension in her body, and then adjusted her spare dress, her other one still a torn mess on her floor. Thinking about her room made her wince; she hadn't cleaned like she had sworn she would. Bakura was an exception however, so she decided to forgive herself and instead placed the blame upon his stupid shoulders.

Hopefully he'll get tired of me and get out of my hair soon. It made her briefly wonder where he would go next. On that topic, why was he in Chinatown, New York in the first place? Where else had he gone? Surely there were more to his travels; two years was a long time after all. Well, wherever he goes, as long as it's away, it's just fine.

A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her thoughts. "Are you going to be okay?" asked Minnie, her long, beautiful, hay-colored hair hanging around her face in thick, sparkling curls. She was such a pretty girl and she was incredibly sweet, although she could quickly grow a backbone when the situation called for it. She reminded Téa of so many things; people, places, her past. It was as if everything that had been her life had come together in a physical form and created her. It was bittersweet, being reminded of things she wanted to bury, but perhaps it was that quality alone that made Téa love her so much.

The part of me that doesn't want to forget…

"Yes," said Téa suddenly, turning away from her hand, feigning to reach for her shawl. "I'll be just fine. Thanks, Minnie."

Minnie's hand remained poised in the air, but eventually she let it fall. Slowly, she nodded, and while Téa had gotten away with not hurting the girl's feelings, there was no hiding the uncertainty in her words. "If you say so, Téa…" She gave her a weak smile. "Be careful, okay? I don't need you passing out on the floor!"

Téa managed a light laugh, although the small, uncomfortable pressure in the pit of her stomach did not go away. "I'll make sure to be careful."

Minnie nodded, and then grumbled out almost unintelligible curses as Roland's snapping signaled them to start working. The blonde offered out her arm and Téa took it, forcing a glittering smile onto her face. So the night wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought it would be. It was still better than Bakura by a long shot.

"I need two scotches and a margarita," breathed out Téa to the bartender, carefully lowering a tray of empty glasses and mugs down onto the back counter behind the bar. As soon as she stood back up, another order was being balanced on her shoulder. With a quick thanks, she swept out of the bar and went down the short flight of stairs to the lounge area below.

The quiet chaos of the bar was infinitely better than being holed up in the same tiny room for the entire night, despite the confusing paradox-like quality to the main part of Higgins. The lounge was an average size with two levels. The upper level consisted of the bar and a few tables meant more for food and casual meetings. The left side of the upper level led to the six private rooms that were currently occupied. The lower level, taking up the middle of the building, looked like something that came straight out of an Old English novel, with rich leather furniture, thick red carpet, expensive rugs, busts of old literature geniuses including Shakespeare, statues of beautiful, naked women, and a roaring fireplace- electric. Here there were no dining tables, just large lounging tables and open boxes of complementary cigars. The murmurs of men hummed through the air, with the occasional airy laugh of a woman. It was a cultured man's paradise.

"Here we go, sirs," said Téa evenly, forcing her words to come out as smoothly as possible, despite her exhaustion. "I have your scotch on the rocks and rum and cokes."

"Thank you very much," said a mustachioed man as he reached for his scotch. He fished through his front pocket and pulled forth a five, handing it to her. "For your troubles."

Téa, balancing the tray, had no way of grabbing it- which was just fine. There were other ways of holding her money. Leaning forward slightly, she gave him a sweet smile, eyes sparkling. "If you could just tuck that right in here, I'd be ever so grateful."

The mustachioed man's friends chuckled at him, and the older man himself shook with laughter. With as much gentlemanly behavior he could show in that situation, he tucked the bill into the inside of the top of her strapless dress. Téa straightened and flashed him a appreciative smile before moving on to tend to the rest of his friends. Not surprisingly, they too all had tips for her and were very ready to give them. With a friendly roll of her eyes, she served each of the men, asked if there was anything else she could do for them, and then went back to the bar to pick up the other order.

She was surprisingly having a fun time. The customers that night were nice and respectful, and there were very few moments of loud drunkenness. Occasionally she would run into Minnie and they would chat for a bit before they went off in their separate directions, hips swaying seductively as they walked away. Téa herself was feeling a bit more playful that night, a side-effect of the relief she felt from being away from the spirit. She was willing to show a little bit more skin and flirt more casually, the growing amount of money in her bra enough proof of that fact.

Discreetly she turned around and adjusted the money in her front, the paper scratching against her skin uncomfortably. Eventually she got it settled, and with a small laugh at her own absurdity, she went back to the bar where her other tray sat.

Unfortunately, on the other side of that tray was Roland.

"Téa, my little ember!" He was sipping a glass of scotch, not unlike the ones sitting on the tray. "Serve these last drinks, and then go to room two. You have a customer waiting."

Téa would have complained immediately, but something stopped her. How strange it was to see such a heavy drink in her boss's hand. Roland never drank when he was working, and when the rare occasion struck him, it was only a glass of wine. On top of that, he seemed almost a little rattled, as if he had heard something disturbing. It was barely anything and someone who didn't know him as well as she did wouldn't have noticed anything.

"Yeah," she said, an odd reply when he took her off of witnessing duty without any warning. "Sure, okay."

He nodded at her, gestured to the tray, and then turned back around and left the bar to continue his rounds. She watched him for a short moment, and then gathered up the drinks and went back down the stairs, handing them out as slowly as possible. The main room was smoky, but the smaller rooms were always an air hazard. On top of that, the less than respectable men tended to lean towards the private areas of the lounge, their minds deep in the gutter. She still had two hours left. Those two hours were going to drag on painfully slow.

"Thanks, beautiful," said the man as she handed him his margarita. There was no tip that time, so she quietly excused herself and reluctantly made her way to the second room, her exhaustion creeping back up on her. Briefly she stopped by the bar to pick up the complimentary bundle of wine and cigars that all guests in the private rooms received. Briefly she met eyes with Minnie as she talked with a young gentlemen.

"Private room," Téa mouthed silently, and Minnie winced at her painfully. The older woman shrugged- a sign of her resignation- and then went to the second door on the upper floor. She pressed her ear to the door, trying to gauge the situation before entering. Hearing silence, she heaved a sigh of relief; at least it was a small party. Gently rapping her knuckles on the stained-glass window of the door, she said in a very feminine manner, "Higgins service."

There was no reply, so she frowned a bit before turning the knob and entering. It was only after she shut the door and looked ahead that she realized she had made a terrible mistake.

The gift basket slipped out of her limp fingers, but he caught it before it could touch the floor. As he straightened slowly, his other hand slowly snaked behind her and urged her forward towards the booth, his pearly white smile gleaming even in the low red light.

"You seem surprised to see me," said Bakura conceitedly, sliding into the seat across from hers on the other side of the table. He spoke as he rifled through the basket, skipping over the cigars and going after the wine. "Honestly, did you really think I was going to stay in that pitiful excuse you call an apartment? Especially since I could learn a bit more about you." He smirked at her as he popped the cork. "Who would have thought that Téa Gardner was a lounge girl?" His eyes darted down briefly, and he chuckled. "Now I know you're well endowed girl, but surely that's not all that is stuffing that pretty bra of yours?"

Téa, in a state of shock, pulled herself out of her dumb thoughts at the mention of her breasts. With a furious blush, she crossed her arms over her chest, turning her body away from his prying eyes. "Pervert!" she exclaimed, feeling for the first time in a long time very self-conscious.

Bakura shrugged as he took a swig of his wine. "At least I'm not a whore."

Indignant fury flared up within her so quickly, she briefly saw in black and white. She stood up and stormed over to him, blue eyes flashing. "I am no whore," seethed Téa. "You want a whore? You go two blocks down. There are plenty of whores there who would even cater to your desires--"

He moved too fast. One minute his brown orbs were glaring at her blue ones, and the next his arm was around her waist and her whole world rushed above her head in a blur of red and black. Suddenly she was in his lap, her back pressed up against his chest, his hand placed firmly on her hip. She froze up when she felt the Millennium Ring move against her. Agonizing chills ran through her body, followed by waves of nausea that threatened to turn her stomach inside out. She was so occupied with the black magic crackling against her that did not have time to prepare for the continuing movement of his hands. Soon, she was crying out as one hand wound itself in her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder, the other pressing just underneath her breast. She could feel his breath against her cheek, almost tasting the wine on her tongue. Her nose was pressed against his neck, and she could smell something masculine about him. If crimson were a scent, it would have been his, like cinnamon and dying roses and blood-

All too suddenly she realized whose body she was trapped against. Cold, sickening fear rushed through her as if she had been dropped into a icy lake and the water froze over above her. For the first time in a long time, she whimpered, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. She was in danger. She was alone- more alone than she had ever thought she could be. Most of all, she was scared and all she wanted at that moment was to go home.

She heard his tongue slide across his teeth before he spoke. "Téa," he began in a low whisper, his silver-tongued words sliding across her flesh like a newly sharpened knife, "I'm beginning to tire of your insolence. At first it was rather fun; it has been quite a while since anyone had the guts to rebuke me. However…" His fingers fidgeted in her hair, and then they tugged again sharply, causing her to cry out in pain. "My patience has now run out."

She was breathing erratically, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Swarming thoughts of regret and loss were running through her head, a blurred mess of past sorrows that made tears spring to her eyes. She heard a chuckle, and then a choked sob fell from her when she felt his firm, wet tongue lick up the tears that had begun to slide down her cheek.

"You taste delicious, Téa," commented Bakura huskily, the hand on her side moving upwards to caress her breast, his pale fingers squeezing slightly. "You know, I wouldn't mind a little bit of fun. I admit I caught myself staring while you flaunted yourself around with your little friends in those skirts of yours. And despite the multitudes of men you've encountered, I'm sure I can leave a lasting impression."

Utter repulsion was clawing at her stomach, but fear held her in place. A muted voice was screaming at her, but whenever he moved, the Millennium Ring moved as well and it's dark aura pierced her repeatedly. Even when his mouth came down and ran itself across the front of her neck, his tongue darting forward to lick her flesh, she could do nothing more than whine, her whole body shivering with conflicting emotions.

"You should have seen my delight when I discovered you worked here. A girl whose dreams were Julliard, now a little lap warmer. Tell me." His hand slid down her thigh, digging in the muscles in her leg. "Did those dancing lessons all those years ago make you limber?" He laughed. "Of course they did. How 'freaky' do you get in the sack, my dear? I bet you turn quite a few heads, don't you? Mmm, what I wouldn't do to see you twisted in your sheets…"

The more he touched and talked to her, the greater her repulsion became. The moment his hand slid across her inner thigh, her mouth suddenly found the will to move, albeit slowly. So she chose her words wisely, lest she waste the moment.

"Fuck off, Bakura."

Bakura paused in his ministrations, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Then, he laughed, short and quick, before it turned into a snarl. In one fluid motion, she was being twisted and her face was shoved onto the leather seat of the booth, her arm bent painfully behind her back. He knelt on top of her, the ends of his hair tickling the bare part of her exposed back.

"I'm not playing any more games with you, Téa," he seethed, the amount of hatred in his voice nearly palpable. "Besides, you- a failure- have no right to cross me in any way."

"I am not a failure!" bit Téa back, her words slightly slurred, her cheek pressed up against the sticking leather.

"Ah, but you are. Whatever happened to Julliard, Téa? 'I'm going to be a dancer,' you said. You see? Even I knew of your dreams you spoke of them so often. And now look at you, at the mercy of these nameless perverts as you struggle to keep yourself afloat on a moldy raft supplied by a senile old bat who obviously has more than a few screws loose."

Téa was panting heavily, her face sliding against the seat as her tears fell, rubbing her skin raw. Her frustrations were beginning to grow, her hatred blossoming into an inferno as the past few days of her life slowly came together and began to coalesce into a sentient thing that was clawing it's way through her brain to the back of her skull.

"Get the fuck off of me!" she screamed, kicking out harshly. He grunted and shifted himself so he was pinning her fully. Distantly, she felt a firm heat pressed up against her lower back, and she suppressed the urge to gag. "You're a twisted bastard, you know that?!"

"I can't help that you excite me, Téa," Bakura panted, his fingernails digging into her wrist just before he twisted her arm some more, causing her to cry out in agony. "Gods I love it when you do that." He twisted again and she screamed again, causing him to laugh. "Yes, just like that! Scream for me again, you whore, you pitiful excuse for a creature!"

She was crying fully now, her arm feeling as if it was going to snap clean off. She was arching as far as she could into him to try and relieve the tension, but all he did was twist more. She was feeling helpless, like an animal caught in a trap. Anxiety was scratching across her skin, making her shake uncontrollably, her teeth gnashing together, eyes darting across the room, making her vision blurred and confused. Over and over she could hear his words in her head, resounding her failures, her fallen glory that she had once coveted. Where in the hell did her future go? It was here, pinned beneath a powerful and dark spirit that was minutes from causing irreparable harm to her.

Something within her kicked to life, and she recognized it as the instinct to survive. Garbled thoughts hashed and re-hashed swum through her mind, little plans that erupted from hundreds of thousands of years of nature and evolution. Adrenaline pumped through her body, amplifying all of her emotions, making her a shuddering vessel of near-insanity. Every single movement was being catalogued, every gesture, every word. They were moving along to her internal clock, the tick-ticking of her heart waiting for the moment, visions of where she needed to go coming and going, fading off into the spinning whirlwind of her breath as her world focused down to a single pinpoint, everything that she was and would ever be condensed into the tiniest speck.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then she was thrown into a roaring river, a speck becoming a grain of sand, a grain of sand becoming a pebble, a pebble a rock, a rock a boulder, a boulder a mountain, towering over, strength running deep within her deepest self. And like all the other inexplicable acts of man, Téa screamed and hurled Bakura off of her. Too surprised to even make a sound, the thief crashed into the table, wine and cigars scattering as he rolled off of the edge and onto the opposite booth.

Téa, mind still in shock, could only comprehend the smallest of thoughts. Get away, they whispered, her legs moving on their own accord. Get away from the man.

She opened the door and exited as easily as she did any other time. This, of course, was completely contrary to what the guests had heard not moments ago. Téa did not notice the curious looks from the lounge members, or the concerned whispers her fellow hostesses. She didn't even hear the increasingly aggravated questions from Roland, nor did she hear him demand the location of the guest in room number two who had mysteriously disappeared. She walked right on by them, her face a pasty, blank shell, void of any response. She went into the dressing room and began to dress quickly, not hearing Minnie enter.

"Téa…?" Minnie walked hesitantly forward, a sliver of fear piercing her heart when she noticed the red fingerprints along her arm and her disheveled appearance. What scared her the most was the complete and total lack of emotion of the woman's face. It was almost as if the Téa she knew had disappeared all together and all that remained was the body she had left behind. It almost made her want to cry.

"Téa, please tell me what happened." Minnie reached out and touched her shoulder, but as soon as she did, Téa whipped around and smacked her hand away, her eyes burning with fury. Minnie recoiled, holding her shaking hand to her chest. The two women stared at each other for a long time, a long silence falling between them. Then, whatever had affected Téa disappeared and her face fell back into a somber mask. Picking up her bag without even the slightest complain, even with her quickly bruising arm, she left Higgins without another word.

As soon as the back door swung shut, Minnie sniffled, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Oh Téa, what's wrong with you…?"

Her living room was cold, which was strange to her. Wasn't it warm not too long ago?

She heard him enter the apartment behind him. At the sound of the door closing, a flash of something burned at her heart, but before she could act upon it, it was gone, leaving her hovering on the edge of an unknown precipice.

What… What am I…?

He snorted derisively, walking up behind her, getting close enough to where the front of his coat was just barely brushing up against her back. "You really did a number on me back there." His deep, rough voice reverberated through her body, causing her to shake, but with what, she did not know. "I didn't know you had it in you, to be honest. Nonetheless…" His voice took on a darker tone, promised punishment etched into every letter. "It was inexcusable."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Her world was slowly beginning to expand, the haze she had been wading through beginning to clear, and what it was starting to reveal was causing her heart to twist. Sounds and smells and sensations were gaining depth and meaning, but it was all wrong. It was gross and sickening and not her; it was a world that had betrayed her, that had left her alone and defenseless. She didn't want to go back, but it was the only to go, and the more she pleaded against it, the faster everything moved.

"What is it going to take for me to get through your pretty little head that the game your playing is mine?" His hand grasped onto her shoulder and she spun her around. Her world swayed, her stomach jolting, her breathing irregular. Words were becoming sensation and the more he spoke, the sharper the cuts to her conscience became.

"You're a little screw-up, Téa. You can't even listen to me, and what I ask for is infinitely easier than what most idiots on this planet request." He grabbed onto her chin roughly. "Is this why you left Dominio? Huh?" He forced her face up, but she could not see him. All she could see was the approaching reality barreling on towards her, approaching her with the intent to crush her in her entirety.

"You're nothing," he spat. "You might as well throw in the towel. You're done. Finished. No one will help you or take you back. In fact, the only person that seems to bother about you is me. Not even that nosy hag seems to give a damn about your well-being. At least I am trying to teach you some common decency, but you can't even get that right." He jerked her face in his grasp, watching her darting eyes begin to flutter. "Are you listening, harlot? Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth? Or maybe that's not good enough. Maybe I'm just going to have to show you just how far you've fallen, in terms only you can understand."

She was shaking violently, everything coming down to the wire. His words were becoming her words, and their words were slowly being drowned away. But then he became pain, and she was pinned up against the booth, or being taunted on the bus, or being accused of things she wasn't guilty of in front of the pharmacy. Her home was crumbling away- an excuse for a home, with mold and screeching women--

But no! This was hers! She had earned it through blood, sweat, and tears!

And yet his words kept boring into her skin, going deeper and deeper until they cracked her bones- the bones in her shoulder, the bones being yanked as he led her to her bedroom.

Whore…

Her body jerked.

You little whore.

The sight of the bed sharpened in her blurred vision.

Failure.

Her shivering world gave one last shudder, and then her resolve shattered completely.

Bakura was ignorant to what was going on behind him. He did however notice that she had stopped. With an irritated growl, he moved to swing her forward. "Get over here--"

Her wrist slipped out of his grasp. He cursed loudly and turned to chase after her. In the process, he nearly tripped right over her. Looking down, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"What the-?"

The sounds he heard were those of a broken creature trapped in a world of anguish. With a startled expression, he watched as the girl below him pulled her legs to her chest, her body trembling violently until she seized up and broke back down into tattered pieces.

She was sobbing. It was not crying, not the small shedding of tears at a sad incident. It was a compete tearing of her soul as it split into thousands of thousands of pieces. Her arms were wrapped around her, her body laying limply against the wall as fat tears streamed down her face, her eyes a frighteningly deep blue color. The sobs that were falling from her lips were soul-wrenching, able to crack even the coldest of hearts. It was a complete surrender to one's fears and mistakes, the breaking of a bridge tempered through years and years of love and care.

For Bakura, it was mind-numbing.

And then, anything after that was swallowed up into darkness.

A/N: Agh, cliffhangers! I didn't mean for another one to show up, but it did. I apologize! [bows] Everything shall be explained in the next chapter (which is the end of the first part, out of three), followed by the more romantic part of the story. Oh yays :D Romance with Bakura… Oh wow. Not so sure how that's going to work…

Oh man, these long chapters… It's been a while since I've been pushing them out at this length. It's tiring! Sometimes I just want to stop and say, "Nope. That's it. That's all they get. NO MOAR!" And then I keep going because I'm insane. You guys lucky ;P

I would like to thank those who have given me feedback. It's incredibly nice of you and it inspires me to write more. Please, if you have any comments or questions, let me know. I want to make this the best that I can :D

Love and hugs to all!