Target: You

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Yuugiou. If that isn't disappointing enough, I also have to acknowledge the fact that I will, therefore, never get to own Bakura nor Malik. More's the pity...

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IMPORTANT! Okay, I am only going to say this once, and it IS important. This is an Alternate Universe, and I mean, a true Alternate Universe. There are no yamis, no Yuugi & Co. (though I may add one of two of them), no Duel Monsters (sorry), no Ancient Egyptian pasts, etc. If you are looking for something like that, this story won't be for you. I have never written a Bakura/Anzu; I didn't even like the pairing for the longest time, but I've decided to try it out. This fic takes place in the year 2655. There's spaceships, aliens, etc. I hope you will like this fic, but if it's too off the charts for you, no hard feelings. Please read on.

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Giving one last glance at her ship to ensure that it was docked properly and safely, the beautiful brunette entered the space port. She flipped her shoulder-length tresses behind her and dabbed under her eyes at the beginnings of perspiration. The space ports in these parts were always so damned warm. She mused that it was probably the natives on the planets nearby; they were used to warmer weather than she was.

Once she was inside the smaller space port than what she was used to, she looked around for a bar or restaurant to order a drink. She ignored the numerous stares she was receiving; she was used to it. She spotted a bar and approached it purposefully. She definitely needed to stock up better on drinks for her next mission. She also needed more bullets for her bullet gun.

She took a seat at the bar and ordered a strawberry daiquiri: her favorite drink. Its cool, thick flavor slid down her parched throat in just the right way. After the bartender returned with her drink, he looked down at her feet, and his solid white eyes widened tenfold.

"Lady, we don't allow... abnormally large cats... in our facility," he told her hesitantly, eyeing the black monstrosity with obvious wariness. She glanced down at her pet, then back at her drink.


"I beg your pardon?" he asked dumbfoundedly. She set down her drink and looked him straight in the eye for a few moments before answering.

"Chisara is a kitten," she clarified. He chuckled nervously, but didn't press it any further once he noticed the gleaming guns hanging off each of her hips.

"Get me two cheeseburgers -- plain -- and an order of teriyaki chicken," she requested, reading off of the Earth menu. He eyed her thin figure which was barely hidden underneath her small and tight, red bodice which was full pants, but a mere tank top to cover her chest.

"Where do you put it?" he joked. She raised a perfectly sculpted brow at him.

"In her mouth, of course," she replied. He seemed confused before realization dawned in his eyes due to the soft growling coming from the girl's feet.

After eating her meal, the black cat purred with satisfaction. "Chisara, go guard my ship," the girl told the eight-month-old pet whom obediently left the space port to wait beside the ship.

The bartender looked up from wiping a glass as his superb hearing, thanks to his large ears, picked up hushed voices at the other end of the bar.

"Did you see that cat? That's the girl! They call her the Angel of Death," one man said confidentially.

"Why the Angel of Death?" the other man whispered in awe. Each man looked at the vivacious brunette who was polishing off her drink.

"She's a bounty hunter, and a damn good one, too! Once she's set her target, there's no escaping," the first man said with sincere finality.

The bartender looked from the two men to the girl again. So, she was THE Angel of Death? He would never have guessed the infamous Angel of Death to be a mere eighteen to twenty years old. However, now he knew why she was called the Angel of Death. How could something so angelic-looking and beautiful be a deadly bounty hunter?

The girl pushed her glass further forward on the bar and placed a few dollars underneath it. She stood from her stool and straightened her skin- tight shirt. She looked down the bar at the two men and bartender who were avoiding her gaze.

"By the way," she started, getting their attention, "I don't like that nickname." She smirked and sauntered out of the bar, buying a few boxes of bullets as she exited the space port. She didn't glance behind her, but the three men at the bar gawked at her as she left.

"Are you ready to go, Chisara?" she asked, and the sleek cat stood from her resting place, immediately walking around the ship towards the entrance. The ship wasn't exceptionally large, but it was fast... damn fast. Moreover, it was the perfect size for herself and her cat. They each had their own sleeping room, and there was also a bathroom and small office besides the normal control room.

Once aboard the ship, Chisara went straight toward her sleeping room, fully intending to get a few more hours rest. She was smart enough to know that her mistress was preparing to start another mission. To be sure, her beloved pet was more reliable than her gun. They were partners and completely inseparable.

The girl went to the control room to begin setting her ship for lift-off. "This is the Fatal Rose; permission for take-off," she called into the microphone. She waited a few moments before the expected reply came back.

"Fatal Rose, permission granted. Clear for take-off in five."

She finished setting her ship's controls before taking a seat in front of the glass panel which was currently overlooking the five or so other ships docked at the space port. After the allotted time of five minutes had passed, she glanced in Chisara's room to be sure that she was asleep and the gravity simulator was on before pressing the neon green 'take-off' button. The ship jolted and the girl and cat felt the familiar pull of the artificial gravity as the ship lifted off into the pitch black space.

She yawned and pulled off her red stilettos, tossing them behind her haphazardly. She barely noticed the red message light blinking in the corner and rose to flip it on. Sitting back down, she listened to the recorder tell her she had one message. Soon enough, an old friend's face appeared on the vidscreen.

"Hey, hey, Anzu! I just received this new wanted notice, and it sounded like something you might be interested in. I've faxed it over, but I'm sure you haven't checked, so go look now! Later, love!" She grinned as his face disappeared off the screen. Flirty, little ass. He had been right though. She slowly stood to check her faxes, throwing away the few 'junk faxes' about possible trips to Planet Pleasure, a vacationing planet. She finally came upon her friend's fax and, as assumed, it was a notice about a new bounty. Her eyes skimmed the page, mumbling to herself as they did.

"Prince Bakura... twenty-six years old... head of underground illegal trading company... possible murder..." It was all things she'd heard before. Criminals were all the same. She flipped to the second page, and her eyes widened slightly. Well, some things apparently weren't the same. None of her previous clients had been so... beautiful.

"Stop that, Anzu," she scolded herself after a few minutes. "Okay, Jounouchi, you've found a good one. He's my target now."

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His chocolate eyes narrowed, and he crossed his pale arms over his chest. A nerve tensed in his forehead giving him a headache to fuel his anger. His ivory hair hung disheveled in his face, and he violently shoved it away. Another man, a few years younger than him, came to stand next to him. His own blond hair was layered and groomed neatly. Nevertheless, they were both handsome men.

"Ah, cousin, I see you are wanted for a hefty price," he joked, looking at the vidscreen. The older man glared down at him.

"Malik, this is no joking matter! And I'm not your real cousin!" he added as an angry afterthought. Malik raised an eyebrow at this.

"You're not? I thought our mothers being sisters made us cousins, Bakura," he said sarcastically. Bakura scowled; he hated having a point proven against him, especially when he was angry.

"For illegal trading, sure, but I haven't murdered anyone... yet," he sneered, his eyes boring into the wanted notice. Malik snickered beside him.

"Maybe they meant 'various torture methods' instead of 'possible murder,'" he suggested mercilessly. Bakura bared his canines at Malik who was used to it by now and stood undaunted.

"Who knows," Malik continued airily, "maybe some beautiful bounty huntress will come and sweep you off your feet."

Bakura rolled his eyes at his cousin. "Oh, yes, I would be swept from my feet due to the impact of the bullet she would place in me. Never mind that though; who heard of female bounty hunters?"

Malik's eyes widened. "You mean you haven't?"

Bakura tilted his head in an annoyed manner. "Does it look like I have?"

Malik smirked, obviously finding great rivalry pleasure in knowing something his cousin didn't, no matter how small and insignificant it was. Long-time rivals they had been, ever since their days as toddlers, struggling to get to the ball or robot dog before the other. Both of their mothers died when they were mere children, and after their fathers had died unexpectedly later on in their lives, the rivalry grew because each man wanted to be the supreme head of the company. Malik cleared his throat smugly.

"Well, they call her the Angel of Death because it is most befitting. I've never seen her; however, people who have claim that she is just that--an Angel."

Bakura rolled his eyes again. "If she is, indeed, a woman, then she could hardly be a good bounty hunter."

"We shall see when she shows up in your bedroom at night with a gun poised to your head," Malik replied. They both enjoyed a hearty laugh, neither of them believing that very thing could happen.

"Come along then. We have some punishments to deliver, and we'll have security doubled," Malik informed him, flipping off the vidscreen with Bakura's headshot, flashing 'WANTED' under it. Malik had never had a bounty on his head, but Bakura suspected that his cousin might find that prospect exciting if he ever did. The man was too insolent for his own good.

"Who this time?" Bakura asked boredly. Malik held out a hand, tallying up his fingers.

"Well, not anyone of importance now that I think about it. Just a few servants, you know," Malik replied, pursing his lips. Bakura knew he was thirsting for more punishments to give out. But he knew his cousin couldn't help it. So was he.

"Oh," Malik began, remembering something, "and the new contract is complete. You know, that account you wanted to do differently." He frowned, but Bakura nodded and quickened his pace.

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I hope I haven't scared anyone away! If you like it so far, then great; that makes me really happy! But if you don't, I understand. :/ Please review anyway and tell me what you think!