Ok so I finally broke down and decided to post my first fic... Please don't review if you're just going to be an ass about my writing. If you don't like it, oh well. I'm not here to pleasethe nit-pickers.The first chapter's really short, I know.. but it's just getting things set up so I don't make things confusing in the later chapters. Hope you like it.

DISCLAIMER: Any movie characters are not owned by me, they're Guy Richie's... the insufferable bastard... But Grace and a few others are from my own sick mind.. and they do belong to me.

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I've been told by many that I am one strange individual. Well. What would you be like if you grew up with gypsies? Yes, gypsies. Not as in some messed up looking crazy people from cartoons and TV shows that portray them as witches and side show freaks.. They do exist and they're real people just like everyone else.. just a lot more.. colourful.. It's not like they'll put a voodoo curse on you or anything or dance around a fire naked.. Well.. Maybe they've danced around a fire or two, but not naked.. and it probably had to do with an insane amount of wiskey being consumed. That's not too uncommon with us..

The first time I got drunk off my ass was when I was thirteen.. Which is actually rather old for that, mind you.. But that doesn't matter.. That's not what I'm going to tell you about. What I'm going to tell you about is a man named Mickey. Yeah, as in Mouse. But don't let the name fool you, he's no ponce.. I'll have you know, he's the toughest out of all of them here. His name Mickey O'Neil and I've known him nearly all my life.. Perhaps I should start by telling you a bit about my life..

My full name is Amelia Josephine Grace Antoinette LaCroix. My mother was known for never being able to quite make up her mind.. hence the four names. She told me I could pick from them what I would like to be called.. And I chose the plainest out of all of them, Grace.

I never knew my father, and as my mother claims, neither did she.. My grandmother was a gypsy, and after she died, my mother left the clan, taking me along with her. I was only two years old. She tried to make a name for herself in the "outside" world.. She worked several jobs to feed both her and I and keep a roof over our heads..

But it didn't last too long.. When I was five, my mother was suffering from leukaemia and knew that she didn't have long to live.. she didn't know what else to do with me.. She wouldn't trust me to an orphanage so she took me back home, the only place with people she could trust.. Back to the clan, to be raised by my "aunt" Celine, of whom I have no real relation.. but we're all like a family anyway, so what does it matter.. I've lived with her ever since.

As you can imagine, being raised here has given me a far different life from that of a city girl. But I don't mind much.. I've learnt things here that they never will.. They will probably never trust as many people as I do in their life as I do.. I know people say that gypsies are not to be trusted.. But the people who say that have no idea what they're talking about. They haven't spent time around us and don't have room to make assumptions like that.. We're not quick to trust others outside of the clan, but I've seen people outside us become accepted, it just takes some time - and no one's going to waste their time with gypsies, so they'll never learn the truth.

I'm going to stop going on and on and let the story tell itself. This is my real life with the clan, this is how I became into the person I am today. And it all started with him.

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And that's it for now. I've got the other chapters written I just have to go through and edit a bit and I'll have them up as soon as I can. Let me know what you think.