A/N- there's not really much to say here. It's a story I've always wanted to do and I got tired of just leaving it on my computer. So, here's the first chapter.

Gypsies, Tramps and Thives

"I knew this was going to be a bad day." Bakura hissed as he stretched his thin arms over his head. His soft British accent combined with the slightly low pitch of his voice made him sound just a bit dangerous. The revolver held securely in his shoulder holster only added to the effect.

He looked thoroughly out of place in the middle of the desert. He appeared to be in his early twenties with long, white hair falling almost halfway down his back even in the ponytail it was currently tied in. The long sleeves of his thin white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing a bit of his pale, flawless skin.

By contrast, the slightly disheveled blonde that had just drug himself to the top of the wall Bakura was standing on looked rather like a drowned rat. His dark blonde hair was soaked with sweat and a pink flush tinged his cheeks from running in the heat. Joey huffed and placed his hands on his knees. "Ya know, I'd kinda like ta surrender." He panted in his unmistakable Bronx accent. "Can't we just surrender?"

"Oh, shut up." Bakura snapped irritably. "Give me that."

Joey pulled off his cartridge belt and handed it to him without question. As he watched the white-haired boy throw it on, crisscrossing his own bandolier, he said, "Then let's run, ya know, while we still can."

Bakura didn't answer him. Instead he turned to face him and said, "Give me your revolver. You're never going to use it." It was an order. Joey shot him a look but pulled the pistol out of his belt and threw it to him.

"Could just play dead, ya know." He muttered, almost to himself. "Nobody does dat anymore."

Bakura checked the dual guns he now carried before speaking again. "Now go and find me a large stick." It was spoken without humour, like a very serious order.

Joey cocked his head at his leader. "In da desert? What for?"

The younger man shrank back as Bakura stepped closer to him. They were standing almost nose to nose when he said in that falsely charming way, "So I can tie it to your back. You appear to be without a spine."

In the distance, both could hear the thundering of the horses' hooves. Bakura only sighed and jumped down from the short wall into the ruins, pulling Joey after him by the collar of the man's shirt.

"Just how did someone like you wind up here anyway?" Bakura wondered out loud as the two moved deeper into the ruined city at a smart pace just shy of a run.

"I got caught robbin' a synagogue." Joey answered in a kind of off-handed way. "Lotsa stuff in holy places and who's guardin' 'em?"

Bakura jumped lightly over a fallen pillar. "Alter boys?" he guessed, smirking.

"Exactly!" Joey laughed. "And I know, like, seven languages so ya just use what ya got! What about you? Kill somebody?"

The younger man laughed at that until the edge of his shoe caught on a half-buried piece of an outer wall. He tripped and caught himself on the other thief's arm, forcing Bakura to drag him for several paces and eventually pulling him to the ground.

"I'm considering it." he told the blonde as they scrambled back to their feet. Joey fell back a bit as they turned a sharp corner through the gate, letting Bakura get ahead of him.

"And what then?" he called as they flew down the stone ramp. "Robbery? Extortion? Kidnapping!"

"None of the above, thank you!" Bakura called back over his shoulder.

"Then what da hell are ya doin' here?" Joey yelled as they both skidded to a stop on the front line. They could see the riders now. The sound of the horses' hooves was deafening even from this distance.

Bakura smirked, showing long, pointed canine teeth. "I was just looking for a good time."

Joey looked from the young thief at his side to the massive dust cloud the horses were kicking up. He shook his head slowly. Then, all at once, the Legionnaires commander turned and bolted, flying back into the ruins, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Bakura tensed and then rolled his eyes. "Damn it. Steady!" he barked. Hearing someone take command like that gave the men around him a little much-needed courage. Still, the effect quickly wore off and several others ran as the horde drew nearer.

"Steady!" Bakura barked again and then softer, to himself, said "What the hell am I saying?" He looked up at the riders from under his tousled and spiked white hair. Due to distance and dust as well as the heat distortion, he couldn't be sure just how many there were. More than enough to kick their asses, he was pretty sure.

The riders, the Tuaregs, sent a war cry across the desert. More of the Legionnaires behind Bakura turned tail and ran. This time Joey was right there with them, screaming about being too young to die.

"Idiots!" The white-haired thief snapped after them. "Steady!" Just what the hell am I doing? he thought as the Tuaregs drew closer. He saw them lift their rifles and take aim. Bakura ground his boot heel into the sand. He would not run. Instead he hit one knee and lifted the small rifle he'd taken from one of the Legionnaires up to his shoulder.

He waited.

"Fire!" The deafening sound of gunfire was suddenly all around him. The first three lines of Tuaregs fell from their mounts. Bakura stifled a laugh as the Legionnaires on the ground behind him quickly reloaded.

"Fire!" He laughed a bit this time as more of them bit the sand. The horses panicked and tangled themselves up, several falling over and tripping the others. Those still on their horses opened fire. Despite the chaos, they were still trained. Their aim was much better. A third of the Legionnaires were killed instantly.

"Fire!" Bakura screamed over his shoulder. The Legionnaires that remained standing behind him fired, knocking several more Tuaregs to the ground.

In the next second, the entire Tuareg force plowed into them.

Bakura tightened his long-fingered hands on the barrel of his rifle, clubbing riders off of their mounts and fighting like a man possessed. His sharp eyes were wide with a barely contained madness that none had ever seen before. Least of all Joey, who was currently combat crawling away in the dust kicked up from the fight. He reached the front gate and paused just long enough to look back at the Legionnaires falling dead around him.

Bakura hurled the rifle at the nearest rider, knocking the man to the ground and going for the revolvers. He cross-drew, a gun in each hand and started blasting riders from their horses. A slightly manic grin twisted his lips was blood splattered across the sand around him.

Joey covered his head with his arms at the new sound of the dual revolvers. Soon enough, though, he was crawling faster then he was before, looking around for a place to hide. The hot sand scalded his hands and burned his eyes, making it difficult to see straight. Ahead of him, in a cluster of rocks, he found the temple doorway.

Laughing giddily, he got up and sprinted for the door. Behind him, a steady clicking met Bakura's ears. His guns were empty.

"Son of a bitch." The man hissed. He turned and bolted, passing the front gate again as four Tuaregs on huge Arabians thundered after him. The thief jumped a stone column, landing with a hitch-step and running even faster. He caught sight of Joey in the temple doorway and slid into a turn.

Joey pressed the sandstone door he'd been trying to close even harder. He heard Bakura bark "What the hell are you doing?" The man was still too far away to do much about it. Joey threw his weight against the door as the four horsemen leaped the stone pillar near the gate.

"Don't you close that door." Bakura's voice held a clear warning tone. "Don't you close that door!" A soft puff of dust fell from the doorframe. Bakura slammed his shoulder against the sandstone but it made little difference. "I'm gonna get you for this." he snarled to Joey, clenching his teeth.

He turned from the temple and bolted, weaving through the ruins. The thundering hooves were getting louder and louder. Finally, Bakura spun to face the riders. He couldn't run anymore. His lungs were scorched from the sand, his breathing shallow and erratic. The Tuaregs lifted their rifles.

A soft laughed forced its way out of the thief's aching throat. He lifted his head and looked the lead horsemen in the eyes, laughing. His dark eyes snapped fire, a look of defiance plain on his face.

Suddenly, the horses reared. They snorted and screeched in fear, bucking and throwing their riders from their backs. They raced back the way they came and the Tuareg quickly followed, leaving Bakura standing alone.

He looked after them for a moment. It didn't make any sense. Why would they run like that? Not that he was complaining. He started to walk, to leave and find Joey when a cold chill hit him from behind. He whirled around to find only the eyes of the ruined statue of Anubis staring blankly back at him.

The ground shifted violently under his feet. Bakura caught himself on his hands and stood, backing away. The sand moved and writhed as though it were a living thing. It looked as though giant snakes were crawling just below the surface, drawing lines and patterns. He watched them for a long moment, mesmerized.

The sand to his right shifted back and hit him like a strong wave, knocking him to the ground. Bakura scrambled to his feet and ran, only once risking a backward glance.

In the sand beneath the broken statues was the face of a man, his mouth open in a deafening scream that echoed in the wind that chased the white-haired thief through the ruins.

High on a ridge, a small group of horsemen watched the thief stagger clear of the ruined city. Bakura sensed them and looked up to find them watching him. He would've asked their names, what they were doing here but he was simply exhausted. Every bone and muscle ached and he was still spitting sand. Joey was going to pay for this.

The lead horseman brushed a few loose strands of hair, blown by the wind, out of his face. He looked rather outlandish, to say the least. Even more so than Bakura, who clearly wasn't from the country. His hair was heavily spiked and tri-coloured, mostly black but dyed red on the ends with blonde pieces in the front.

Despite this, there was something fierce about him. The man seemed to see right through him, directly into his soul. Needless to say, it was a decidedly uncomfortable sensation for the thief.

This man, Atem, watched him closely, unsure of his presence here. Bakura returned the stare, noting what a strange colour the man's eyes were, before looking away again and starting to walk. He was determined to ignore him if he could. He'd had enough human contact for a while.

"Should we kill him?" asked one of the horsemen in Arabic.

"No." Atem answered in the same language. His voice was a lower pitch than one would expect and carried a soft regal lilt. "The Sahara will kill him." He said as he watched Bakura walk unsteadily into the open desert.

A/N- Prize of cookies and a Mythbusters marathon for guessing who plays Evy.