Author's Note:

Well. I wasn't planning to publish this one so soon, but given how many times I ended up opening the file just to change a few words, I figured I might as well. Updates are planned to be weekly. Total of chapters 6, but it might end up being 7.

Before you start reading this, there may be two things you need to know.

First, fic is set during SnB, right where the anime left off. Manga-wise, sometime around chapter 56 and onward.

Second, themes such as prostitution and slavery are gonna be featured right from the start. M rating is there for a reason, and not just the smut.

Last, this is the first time I've written an actual fic with an OC as a main character. I'm trying hard not to cross into the Mary Sue domain, so if you have any comments, critics, advice or complaints, please share. I'm hungry for advice (attention, more like... I'm kinda like that puppy trying to jump in your lap while you're busy on your laptop... yea, you get the idea) Errr. Yea. Anything ya wanna say, do it. I don't bite. I'm too scared to do that.


The cheers as the top went down could've easily compared to the victory cheers in the colosseum. Several men threw themselves down to grab the bra, others toppled over each other to catch sight of bare nipples, while the dancer jiggled the night away.

Aisha hid a lazy yawn, occasionally drumming her fingers against the bar. A particular pair of sailors seemed to be going at each other's throat every other minute, with words such as 'pummel', 'blood' and 'ya bastard' thrown every few minutes, but no fight ever got a chance to break out. Either their friends got in the way, or, like just now, Marina did, with a sugary smile and a twist of hips that left every male in vicinity staring.

Judging by the smug little smile as she headed towards Aisha and the bar, she enjoyed the attention just as well.

Staring at the pile of dirty mugs the redhead had brought along, Aisha grimaced. "Oh, great. Say, Mari, what do you think will be more fun? Washing those mugs or throwing them at that asshat's head? I reckon I have pretty good aim by now."

Marina glanced over her shoulder, fiery red lock falling out of the delicately styled hair. "Are you talking about the boss or Nadir?"

"Aren't they both the same?" Aisha froze, eyes widening a fraction. "Wait. Nadir is here?"

Marina nodded, gesturing somewhere behind her back. "Getting drunk over there, table two. He's a pretty sorry sight, to be honest. But if you didn't know that, means it's the boss. What happened this time?"

"You heard him, Mari. Everyone's working tonight. And by work, I mean work." Elbows resting up on the wooden surface, Aisha cradled her head. A desolate sigh escaped her. "I really want to take one of those stools you're sitting on and hit him with it."

The expression on Marina settled on something between tired and resignated. "Well, I can imagine you're tired, we all are… he still owes you those two breaks, too—"

"Oh, leave me out of it, I can deal with an extra customer or two. When he says everyone, he means everyone. Do you see my problem?"

The dry look she received was a clear sign Marina didn't, not by a long shot. But Marina wouldn't be her best friend if she couldn't make an educated guess, and judging by the comically wide eyes, she figured it out just as well.

"Oh my god, Mel! Don't tell me he's actually—"

Aisha nodded grimly.

"But—"

"I tried," Aisha cut her off, rubbing at her aching temples. "I told him she's too inexperienced for this. I told him there's no point sending her up in a room, she wouldn't know what to do. She's just a kid. Frightened out of her mind, too. But no. All he's thinking of is money, money, money and with the guys from Sindria here, who can blame him?"

"Aisha, sweetie, you did what you could—"

"Hell if I did. I did nothing whatsoever," she hissed. "What gets me the most, he's right. With the right clientele, she'd fetch a higher price for an evening than you and I could get for a week, and we need the money. But Sindria guys are… Damn it. They're a lot of things. They're needy, they're generous and they're kinky as hell. But pedophiles they're not. Now if only I could get that through his thick skull…"

Marina shot her a look full of gentle sympathy, before turning towards the main area in search, not that finding her took effort. Mel zoomed from one table to another, thin skirt flowing behind her, but she never stayed long enough to give anyone an opportunity to get a good look at her, let alone touch her.

Her plan would've been clever, too, if the boss hadn't caught onto it. Hunching in his dark corner, he nursed a beer with one of the dirtiest frowns Aisha had ever seen on his face, but he had yet to get off his fat ass. For as long as he kept at it, she decided not to move, either, but with every passing hour, it got more difficult to ignore the silent cries for help.

"I have to do something," she decided. "If he's not listening to reason, I need to think of something else. Sinbad and his boys won't do anything, but those guys at table thirteen are giving me the creeps."

Marina glanced towards the table in question, then the boss, soft frown to her exotic features. "Don't be that way, sweetie. Mel is a slave, there's nothing we can do."

"She's a twelve year old kid, damn it," Aisha argued, boiling rage threatening to consume her. "I've been there, you've been there, you know how helpless it makes you feel when people look at you like you're less than human. I can't sit back and pretend I don't see it, Mari. I can't."

In Marina's eyes, glimmer of painful memories stirring under the surface. Hope helped quell some of the rage making Aisha's blood boil, entire body tense, urging her to do something, whatever that something may be. But Marina looked down at her feet and said nothing.

"Mari?" Aisha tried, almost desperately.

"I know." Her best friend wouldn't look up. Without looking away from the bar, she said, "Boss is looking this way. He looks in a bad enough mood already, don't make it worse."

"Mari…"

"I need three beers and Balbadd's new special. Then I'll come back for another round of beers."

Aisha nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Last thing she wanted was to unintentionally say things she didn't mean. Focusing on the beer barrel instead of the constricting in her throat and violent need to speak her mind to somebody, she tried to reason it out to herself.

Mel was nothing but a slave, a property. She was a thing, not a human, somebody whose right to make any choice of her own had been cruelly stolen, never to be returned. And if Aisha tried to do anything about it, not only would she break several laws, she'd risk the same fate upon herself.

Not again. I can't go through that again, I can't…

But she couldn't very well ignore a child in similar distress, no matter how much she'd love to.

"Sweetie, please don't be reckless," Marina said. "I know this isn't okay with you, it's not okay with any of us. But you can't get rid of every bad thing in this world."

"I know…"

"And if you do, you should also know being passive aggressive about it isn't going to help fix anything. I don't know what you just added in those beers, but it better not be anything dangerous. But how you knew they're for table thirteen is beyond me."

Aisha winced.

Damn that Marina, perceptive as always.

She hid the powder back in the tiny wooden compartment, handing her the tray with a blank expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Your boys are getting a little impatient, by the way."

Marina's head snapped back, the curses coming out of her mouth something she could've only picked up from hanging around sailors a tad too often. Aisha filed that one for later, in case she needed some bribery material for the chores, again.

"This is the last time I cover for you, I swear." The glare might as well had been a promise.

Aisha performed a smug little wave, smile dropping the moment Marina rushed away. She scowled at the pile of dirty mugs like they'd done her a mortal offense, but as much as she'd like them to, they wouldn't wash themselves.

And there's at least as many in the main area.

Given the hungry looks at table thirteen, Aisha suspected Marina wouldn't get a chance to pick them up. Kath either, given the amount of attention her jiggly dance had gotten. And Mel was still taking orders, quill shakily held between twitchy, thin fingers.

A kid who can write, huh?

Moreover, a slave who could write. That spoke volumes alone. Writing was a rarity, even among Napolia's citizen. Whatever price the boss paid for her, it hadn't been cheap. No wonder we're still neck deep in debts, damn it.

The marks she spied under the obsidian locks of hair looked painful, but it only added another layer of crucial intel. Whipped, and often. But she's too clever to be inefficient. Which means either her old master was a nasty piece of work, or she's got a rebellious streak hidden somewhere.

Or both. Likely the worst possible option to boot.

Coupled with how suddenly she'd showed up, somebody should've come to stand next to her and wave a flag saying 'I'm special'. It would've been less obvious.

An idle wave in the main area caught Aisha's attention, one of the Sindria tables. One glance to confirm the girls were too busy, edge of her lip curved. Most of the girls hadn't noticed, but the boss did. Yet he did nothing, the idiot.

Oh boy, I'm going to get in trouble for this.

But the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Aisha picked the empty tray from the set and hurried towards the table in question, shooting a pointed glare towards the crouching moron of her boss as she walked past him. The sputtering was almost satisfying.

The annoying ache flared in her legs, reminder how long she'd been standing in place. The skirt kept slipping, and she would've tripped, twice, if not for the scarf tied tight around her waist, uncomfortably tight. Did I lose weight again? Shit, now's not the time—

Fixing a welcoming smile, she offered a little bow.

"Good evening, gentlemen, what may I get you?"

The joyous faces that greeted her were almost endearing. Would've been, no doubt, if all the occupants hadn't been so darned young. And staring. The redheaded teen hiccuped once, blushed, then tried to hide his face behind his Imuchakk friend — who seemed to have gotten into a glaring contest with an empty mug. Huh.

Aisha stubbornly ignored Sinbad leering, but his little hum was all too loud in her ears, and that infuriating grin might as well had been challenging her to take that tray and slam it in his face.

Apparently realizing she wasn't going to treat him any different than usual, he sighed. "I heard there's this new wine on the market here. Would you recommend?"

Smirk tugged at the corner of her lip. "You're going to have to be a little more specific. We've got some new stuff from Balbadd, some supplies imported from Oasis Cities and there's this new line from Mariadel, but it's not that much of a change." One of his friends twitched. Aisha grinned. "Yeah, I don't like it much either. If I had to pick, I'd take Balbadd's special every time. Careful, though. Not cheap."

Which was putting it mildly. Cheap with her usually referred to average prices and something deemed 'not cheap' would be better defined as expensive like hell. But if Sinbad hadn't learned that by now, that was his own fault.

The look he shared with his friends confirmed it. "Well, Harun did always claim Balbadd's wine is the best… Make it double for everyone."

His Imuchakk friend blanched, and the rest of the smiles dropped in sync.

"Double? If Rurumu hears about this…"

Sinbad's smile lingered for a moment longer, twitching. "I'm sure it's going to be fine. We just got back and she's on a leave…"

Aisha left them to figure it out, eyes focusing on Mel while the girl to approach the table in a poorly concealed call for help. Quick, subtle nod that she hoped the girl caught, she smiled charmingly at the guys.

"Double coming. This might take a bit longer, please don't get impatient."

Long hair drifting behind her, Mel fell in step with her almost immediately, clutching the tray to her chest, crumpled piece of paper only evidence of how badly she was shaking. "Aisha, I'm — I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But, everyone… they keep looking and the boss, he wants… I can't, I—"

"Shhh, easy. Calm down. You're tired, right?"

"Ye-yes. I just—"

"It's fine, you don't have to explain. I showed you where I live, right? The key is in your pouch."

Mel froze, tearful eyes widening, so much visible relief in her body language. It physically hurt to see the hope disappear almost as quickly when she looked towards the bar. "I— I can't. I'll get in trouble. You'll get in trouble, I—"

"You can." Shooting an impatient look at the boss, Aisha gestured towards a table with half a dozen empty mugs waiting to be picked up and ushered the girl to follow. Anything, for as long as it could buy more time.

"Listen, Mel. Boss is at the bar now, I'll make sure he stays there. You hang around the left side, okay? Tables one through four, he can't see you there. Wait until somebody goes upstairs, Marina, Shelly, me, doesn't matter. As soon as one of us goes, he'll be too busy to watch either way. "

In spite of the initial fear, the girl quickly caught onto Aisha's intentions, just another proof that the slavery might've hurt her, but it hadn't broken her. Not yet. Aisha almost sagged in relief, right then and there.

Thoughtful frown on her face, Mel cast another look towards the bar. "Bu-but what if he sees me run? What if he notices—"

"He won't. He doesn't look like it, but he's a little shortsighted. My hair color's the only reason he's watching us like a hawk to start with," Aisha assured her gently. "It'll be okay, I promise. As soon as one of us goes up, run for it. Marina lives with me and she's free from cleaning duty today, she'll send you back in time before anyone notices."

Mel nodded shakily, blinking a pair of tears away. "Thank you. Thank you—"

"Shhh, don't worry about it. Now go back to Sin's—err, table nine for me, please. I didn't get the empty mugs there."

Mel obliged without a word, but couldn't help stealing one more fearful glance towards the boss. Aisha sighed, straightened her back, and marched back with the most neutral of faces she could pull.

Dirty mugs hit the wood right in front of him as Aisha piled down mug after mug, high enough to reach the tip of his fat nose, before he could get a rant started.

"Nobody was going see it in time," she stressed. "If you were going to take the bar, you should've done it hours ago."

Dark eyes narrowed at her, thick brows scrunched together under the uncontrollable mane of dark hair. "I don't like what you're up to, Aisha. I can see you helping that slave—"

"That slave, as you call her, is barely standing on her feet, no thanks to you. Give her a break."

"Yeah, and give her a chance to run? Fuck no. She already ran from her masters, twice. I'm not going to be third one."

Looking up from where she'd nearly spilled the wine, Aisha bristled with barely contained rage. "Oh, so that's why? Should've thought of that before you, I dunno, put her to work for forty eight fucking hours."

"I'm doing what needs to be done—"

"First of all, she's a kid," Aisha began. "Think Shelly, age twelve, and be happy this one is too scared to throw a fit—"

"She better be fucking shivering in fear, I'm not letting her run after all the money I wasted—"

"Second," Aisha cut in, voice razor sharp, "You want her to earn you money, right? You're doing it wrong. At this rate, you lose more than you gain, again, and I'm done picking up the pieces. Either you're going to start thinking, or I'll force you."

Fire burning in his eyes, huge fists clenched tight, but Aisha refused to flinch in spite of his leaning forward. All her hard work would go to waste if he caught only a whiff of fear anywhere on her person.

"If I wanted to listen to your bitching, I would've put you in charge here instead of Shelly—"

"And if you'd done that, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Aisha fumed. Almost immediately wanted to smack herself, but some things needed to be said. Except now wasn't the time, there were too many customers, many undoubtedly listening, and she'd willingly eat her her dress if Sinbad hadn't noticed any of this happen.

She sighed, forcing her body to relax.

"You know what? No. I'm done. Your business, your call. Now excuse me, while I go fix another one of your fuck-ups. Don't worry. I won't be doing that again, anytime soon."

Hair whipping against his arm, she looked everywhere but at Mel as she headed towards the table in the middle. Poor girl had more than enough to worry about.

Sinbad grinned when he noticed her coming, his general disposition the only positive side to her night at this moment. "I thought you said it would take you longer," he noted with interest, patting the tiny bit of space beside him. "Won't you join us for a bit?"

Aisha's eyebrows shot up as she handed each of them a mug, light smirk stretching her lips. "I thought you and I had a deal."

"Why, I don't see how that's breaching any of the conditions. Do you?"

Aisha shrugged, letting him pull her into what little free space on the cushion remained, but she suspected that was nothing short of intentional. Confirmed it, when he draped an arm around her shoulders and pressed his nose against her neck, soft lips brushing the skin so lightly, she almost mistook it for her own wistfulness.

"You've been a little testy all night," he breathed against her neck, the scent of alcohol on his breath strong. "Your boss is also looking this way. Again. Did something happen?"

"It's not like this place can't go a week without us butting our heads about something."

She brushed the bits of hair from his cheek, trying and failing to keep her hand from lingering a moment too long. "How was Sasan?" she asked, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes. "I heard the deal worked out, but I wanna hear the details."

The grin on his face was practically infectious. "I'll have to tell you that story sometime. But not now."

Fingers playing with the gently curled ends of her hair, she couldn't help the smile as he dropped his head on her shoulder, other hand playing with the jewels sewn into her top. His rhythmic breathing was almost enough to calm her own raging heart.

"Honestly wasn't expecting I'd find you here," he mumbled in her skin. "Thought you'd be long gone by now. How come?"

"Things got a little complicated, I guess." she allowed, fingers gently brushing through the soft silk that was his hair, something that had quickly become an addictive habit. Soft butterfly kisses prickled her skin, the twisting in her gut almost inviting her to start something she'd rather avoid, if at all possible. Not likely, considering his reputation, but it was worth a try. Last thing she needed was accusations she was picking favorites.

Trying to pry his mouth from her neck, uselessly, she huffed. "It's fine, Sin. You can stop." Heaven knew boss got prickly about how much playing around he'd allow in the main area, but Sinbad was stubborn. "Seriously. You keep this up, next on his list of complaints will be why I didn't take the key—"

"Then take it," he said, pausing just long enough to lift his head and look her dead in the eye. "You know I'd never turn down a lady in need."

If she didn't know any better, she would've thought all that alcohol he'd swallowed had no effect whatsoever. Still, she smirked.

"Does that also count for ink supplies? Cause I'm all out of that shiny new ink—ow, okay, okay. Fine. Fine, Sin, damn it. Stop tickling!"

Fingers lingered against the naked skin of her waist, his grin was positively feral. She wanted to go up, she needed to get away from the main area, not to mention the money, but did it really have to be Sinbad?

Ah hell, given his tendencies, it was only a matter of time.

"Fine," she sighed. "But before we go, you gotta know. I got no less than three warnings to stay away from you," she managed, in spite of the gentle caresses. "If you're sure about letting me get that key, you better have some good excuses ready, because when those girls come asking for explanations, I'm blaming you."

He twitched, prying his face from her neck just long enough to give her a look that might as well had been begging for pity. "Will apologizing ahead do?"

"Absolutely not. "

Hopes crushed, he paused to think it over for a minute longer, before nodding solemnly. "Okay. If anyone causes you trouble, I'll take care of it. Any other problem?"

And, damn it all, she should've been prepared for that one. Skirt chaser, down to every last cell in his body.

"I'm not letting you sleep here. Nuh-uh. Not happening."

"Eh? Why not?"

"You finished four mugs, Sin. Four. You're not going to feel it right away, but when you do, it's not going to be nice, and I won't have the time in the morning to take care of that, too. Unless if you've got some magic cure hidden in your pocket, in which case let me know, so I can join you for drinks and enjoy the no-consequences privilege."

He snorted, climbing to his feet and pulling her along. "You can join anytime." Pausing a step in, he frowned. "I don't need to worry you'll take that as a proposal, do I?"

"I'd have to be an absolute idiot to expect a proposal from you."

"... Rude."

She shrugged. "Maybe. But true. Well, maybe not quite, you're drunk, and as rumors have it, you say a lot of things when drunk."

The sputtering embarrassment she'd been hoping for never came, but the pout worked well enough as a consolation prize. "Not true."

Apparently realizing that'd never convince her, he sighed. "Well, maybe I'm drunk, and you're rude, but you're still cute."

"Uh-huh," Aisha nodded breezily. "Of course I am, since those two tend to have an interchangeable meaning in your vocabulary. Do you still coo over things trying to kill you? I've been informed that's quite a hazardous occupation these days."

"… You're really on a roll today, huh."

"Aw, but you like it." She flashed an innocent grin and dragged him along, dangling the key on her finger for a bit of flair.

"I'll admit it's a little enticing," he offered.

"Yeah, yeah."

Squeezing his hand gently, she tugged him along the stairs, in a hurry to get away from all the prying eyes. He wasn't shy about using the opportunity the proximity gave him, and she could do without people figuring out he was far, far more than just another random customer.

Except right now, he really ought to be no more than that.

So why did he feel like her last hope? On the day she met him, she'd promised — no, she swore she'd never get him involved in her mess. Given how much trouble he'd unknowingly saved her from, she owed him that.

But he has the means. If I ask, maybe he'll want to help, or at least find somebody who else willing to help...

Problem with that lay in the fact he wasn't the type to get in trouble with the law, not willingly. Even when he'd first shown up in the streets of Napolia, he'd tried hard to keep everything prim and proper, when many other options were available.

But now he was drunk, with temporary release only thing in mind. A few good word choices and a nudge here and there, chances he'd agree grew exponentially higher. But she couldn't use him like that. Not him.

Throat constricting, she lingered at the door, indecision almost paralyzing.

Too long, because his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest. Impatiently, his fingers slipped past the waistband, exploring touch both familiar and addictive, yet it didn't feel right. She had yet to make a move at all, but guilt suffocated her, fixed her in place and refused to let her move. Hot lips burned wherever they touched, stimulating, distracting, and she'd give everything for a little distraction right about now.

No. Focus. It's not fair. But he's the best you've got.

"Say, Sin…"

If he noticed how breathless she was, he showed no sign of it. His fingers tangled in her hair, gently scraping along her skull, drawing a breath she hadn't intended to release. She leaned against him when his teeth sunk into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, breath shivering as she tried to regain any sense of purpose.

"Sin?" It was almost impossible to speak, but she couldn't stop now. "Sin… hey…" Soft hum against her skin was the only acknowledgment she got, but it served it purpose. Aisha steeled her nerves and sighed. "Would you meet me tomorrow, the usual spot? There's something I need to talk to you about."

Hot lips traveling up to her ear, hot breath laced with alcohol hit her cheek. "You are in trouble," he slurred. "Who would've known."

"I'm not," she said, desperately, but it came out pathetic. "Not yet."

"How bad?"

"… On a scale from missing earrings to help, a fire monster is trying to eat me alive? Probably a pack of Maurenian tigers after my neck. And they have these long, pointy, venomous teeth…"

Caressing stopped, firm hands coming to rest on her hips. The soft rumble in his throat as he laughed sent shivers racing down her spine. "Good thing I beat a dragon, in that case."

Hysterical laughter bubbling up, Aisha fought the urge pull him in a bone crushing hug, profusely apologize and kiss him full on the lips, all at the same time.

"Yeah, isn't it?" she choked out.

Turning around to face him, she peered into the molten gold of his eyes, allowing the unshakable confidence to engulf her. Heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she climbed on her toes, pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, Sin. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Eyes dancing, he grinned. "You could start by opening that door."

"With pleasure."