A/N: When he's dressed as a woman, I'm identifying Sanji as Candy – just to clarify up any confusion.

Part Two

When he came again, there wasn't warning. He was suddenly there within the group of Marine officials that had just showed up, picking their entertainment before the main act in the show hall could start, and by the time the girls noticed, they were so startled that most of them dashed away with fright, leaving their intended patrons bewildered. Ivankov growled once she caught sight of him, and shook with rising disgust as he removed his jacket and gloves.

"Be a dear and put these aside," he told her, looking for Candy. "I hope she's not already entertaining."

"You weren't supposed to be here tonight!" Ivankov snapped, dropping Lucci's things to the floor as the others shuffled around nervously behind him, Blueno shaking his head at them. "You were supposed to give me advance notice!"

"My wagon came in early, today."

"You were supposed to be gone for a week!"

"Look at you, so cute, all blustered and flushed. That glow makes you look fifty, again."

"I'm not that old!" she snapped at him, red-faced as he chuckled, looking unconcerned with her temper.

"Ivankov." Candy's voice was soft from the top of the stairs, where she'd felt safe looking over the action below, away from the group of men. Blueno looked surprised that he hadn't noticed her before. "I'm free."

Feeling caught between a rock and a hard place, not wanting to endanger her place with angering the wrong people, and yet wanting to protect her girls, Ivankov frowned tightly. Her rouged lips thinned, and she frowned up at Lucci, who was looking as pleased as a cat that swallowed a canary. Once the other girls realized he wasn't looking at them, they slowly began to reveal themselves from other rooms, peeking cautiously around the hall corners, from behind first floor doors.

Ivankov gave a hard swallow. "Fine. Sign the necessary paperwork. Pay up front. There is an extra ten involved, for the damage caused the last time you were here, and for the loss of profit in the meantime, as she couldn't work."

"Excellent."

Nearly an hour later, Lucci could hear the other girls entertaining their men in the other rooms. Some of them were laughing and drinking, entertained with stories and a good time, and there were some definite "happy endings" from others. He could hear the singing and dancing happening in the other building outside, everyone having a grand time.

He was in bed with her, just touching and talking, but it was mostly him doing the talking. He would touch, she would either accept or fight, depending on what he was administering, and then he would talk. He liked her snarky replies, and he liked the way she touched and comforted him – combing through his hair with her fingers, massaging his muscles with her soft hands. But even as her action screamed tenderness, her disdain was obvious, and he liked that about her. Kept him from getting too angry, or taking advantage of any small sign of weakness.

He twisted to look over Candy's sullen expression, reaching out to push her hair from her face so he could take it in entirely. She waved him away, and he gripped that wrist tightly, forcing her to touch him in return. She frowned as she watched her own hand pat him atop of his head.

"Just a light petting will do," he assured her, leaning in to bite lightly at her exposed chest, settled between her legs. "Pet me."

"Like a damn dog?" she asked, voice heavy with disdain as he felt her tense. She patted him atop of the head, then grimaced as he touched her left leg.

"How'd this happen?" he asked her curiously, gently treating the limb with a soft touch, feeling along her smooth thigh and finding the difference in muscle tone. He looked at her, taking in the sight of her. He liked the way the pale gold nightgown – most of it just sheer material - hung carelessly from one shoulder, exposing half of her chest to him; he liked the way her hair fell, the sassy tilt of her head as she looked at him with contempt. But he also liked the way that expression turned to fear; pupils wide, breath quick, and a pale change of flesh beneath her rouge whenever he lifted a hand to administer a slap for something he didn't like, or to set her back into her place once she felt bold enough to venture away from it.

"Horse kick."

He reached in to gently touch the newly split lip he'd given minutes earlier, when she refused to kiss him. She flinched slightly. "Snapped it in two?"

She bit his finger hard enough for him to retract with a hiss. "Mm hmm."

"What a shame," he said low, lowering himself to kiss the inside of her thigh while she watched him warily, hands at the ready, just in case he did something to cause her pain. But his touch and his mouth was gentle, and when he felt her relax slightly, he pushed back up to loom over her, pushing up against her insistently. "Let me in."

"No, you bastard."

"I don't like being told 'no'."

"Get used to it," she muttered, tightening her lips as he leaned in towards her again, eying her mouth. "What is with you and that?"

"I like to feel close to someone I like," Lucci said, and he pushed in close to her face, nuzzling her cheek, licking along her jawline. Biting gently, but enough to pinch her as she gave a sharp curse.

"You remind me of a cat," Candy complained, pushing his head away. "Headbutting. Nuzzling. Getting your damn fur all over the place."

He chuckled as she waved her fingers about, dislodging the long strands of black hair from them.

"Where are you from?" Lucci then asked, reaching between them to push the pale gold material of her skirt up, to expose the rest of her to him. Then he shoved the material away, to find her lower stomach. He nosed the hard flesh there, tasted the light salt of her flesh. Reached between them to palm the bony protrusion of her hip before lifting his head with dislike. He looked at her with a hard squeeze of his hand, causing her to frown at him. "What am I paying Ivankov for?"

"If you don't like it, leave. A lady has to fit her dresses somehow."

"Women should be full and round and curvy, with extra to spare. An indication of good health."

"And men?"

"Strong and unbending, and I already find that here," he assured her, touching her bared ass, then running his hands along her legs, finding pleasure in seemingly neverending limbs. He pressed gentle kisses to the inside of her knees, to gently knead her heels with his thumbs. "Where are you from?"

"The south."

"Then why are you up here?"

"My family wanted me married to some guy."

"So they passed you off as a girl?"

"Mm."

He slapped her ass hard, then chuckled when she made to push him away, sitting up away from him. He leaned in to kiss her bared shoulder, brushing her hair from one side to the other. Hugged her tightly, to run his hands over her body, pushing his erection against her stomach.

"Let me in…take care of me. I had a hard week."

"No."

His fingers buried deep into her hair, and he yanked her hard to the side, crawling atop of her. Once she was pinned, he leaned over her, pushing up her dress. He held onto her hair with one hand and used the other to penetrate her with his finger, causing her to tense up, giving a short curse as she pushed at him.

"Let me in. You're so warm, tight. This is what I want. Why give it out in the first place, but not the second?" he asked, burying that finger up to his knuckle. Then retracted it, pushing it in again. "Loosen up for me."

"There's a reason for rules, you bastard."

"It's either this, or my fists. I come here for the stress relief. How do you think I feel, every week, listening to these people dictate the things I do, killing hundreds just so they can lay land for hopefuls wanting a piece of the new world?"

"Find another job!"

"You know what I did to Sicily? She wasn't like you," he said, using another finger, hearing her give a low sound of distress. He kissed her hip, licked the rigid flexing her hips, biting just enough for her to feel it. "She wasn't strong enough to take my temper. She cried. And when girls cry, I don't know what to do. I tend to panic. I try to comfort them, but you know how that gets – I just get excited. So when I get excited, I tend not to stop until I'm satisfied. I guess that's why she hung herself, huh?"

"She was a nice girl."

"That's what they all say, but she wasn't nice enough. Now, you're different. You've been nice to me once. And I won't forget that. So, be nice again. Before I get excited."

Candy said nothing for a few moments, then her attitude changed. She looked at him, and Lucci stopped finger fucking her to take in that expression. He brushed her hair from her face, pulled strands from her chest to lay it out around her head, touching her chin. He didn't know that she'd changed into another state of mind just to keep him from escalating the situation into a violent one. To accept his advances as her choice, rather than fight him – self protection, from years working as a prostitute.

"I don't want to stay here, anymore," she said to him. "I'm thinking of leaving soon."

"What? Why?" Lucci asked, puzzled. He indicated the room. "You are being sheltered, bathed, clothed – maybe not fed enough, but you are taken care of. Why?"

Candy pushed her skirt down, settling uncomfortably underneath him. She reached up to fiddle with his nipples, to chew nervously on her healed lip. She either knew exactly what she was doing, or she didn't – either way, Lucci's attention was definitely caught.

"I'm afraid they'll catch up," she said low. "I've made enough to buy a ticket West – I am planning on leaving. With having said that, I'll give you a free pass. You mentioned you're leaving for some job things, right?"

Sitting up, Lucci frowned down at her. She spit into her hand, to reach for his dick. Stroking him slowly, maintaining eye contact, she said, "So think of this as a 'goodbye' gift."

"All right, then," he muttered, frowning. "But I doubt Ivankov will agree to this so easily, considering how much I'm giving her."

"She knows I hate going outside – she won't suspect that I'll just up and leave. She'll assume I'm in my room," Candy reassured him, sitting up in front of him. She lowered her head and began to service him. For a few minutes, Lucci let her do so, gratified by her talent. She knew exactly how long to suck, how to tease, how to take him in. he watched her bob her head, watched her stroke him, listened to the sounds of her light gagging as she took him in too deep. When she finally lifted her eyes, her mascara was running around her eyes, lipstick smeared, saliva glistening around her mouth and chin – a definite sight indeed.

She wiped her mouth with a smirk, asking, "You won't be sad to find me gone the next time you visit, right? Because that would be weird."

"I'll just find another to replace you."

"Then I won't feel so bad," she said with a shrug, intending on finishing the job before he pushed her back, crawling between her legs. Instead of fighting him, she opened her legs, and she let him in. Just as she did the first time, she took control of him, to have him trembling, wanting more, sucked in by her mixed languages and fierce fucking, making him follow her as her body took over his. He didn't mind losing himself in her, forgetting who he was, forgetting what he did that week – he was caught up in the feel of her hands, her ass taking in his dick, her legs squeezing him, her mouth biting and forgiving. She still looked at him with hate, but her fingers were in his hair and she took his pleasure easily, fast, and at that moment, he knew he was not going to let her go.

Afterward, while he lounged in the tub, he frowned over at her. She was fixing her makeup at the vanity, smacking her lips to freshen up her lipstick, and he waved her over. With an exasperated sigh, she slapped down her pot of color and wandered over. He liked the way his cum dribbled down her legs, hitting the hardwood floor as she walked.

He pulled her into the tub with him, wrapping his arms around her as she stiffened up against him. "Where out west can I find you?" he asked her, drawing the washcloth over her chest, clothes and all.

"Never. I plan on being far away from you," she answered with a frown.

"Fine," he said, dropping the washcloth and reaching for her dick, playing with it before stroking slowly. He kissed her neck, her face, biting lightly at her shoulders. Felt her dick harden, her body start to relax. Minutes later, when she came and she was resting back against him, he shook his hand free of the substance, then reached over to touch her chin. "Either I come looking for you, or you make it easy for me, and invite me."

"I'm going to make it clear right now, I don't like you," she complained, holding his arm once it curled around her neck. When he started to tighten, she tucked her chin into it, and he was amused at the move – it prevented him from choking her. It made his suspicions ring, how easily she accepted pain, how comfortable her body was to defend. It always seemed ready to move, ready to hurt.

"I always find who I'm looking for," he assured her, petting her wet hair. She waved his hand away before he could pull her wig off.

She shifted in the tub, to give him a bright smile. "I heard you're looking for the Strawhats, is that true?"

He scowled, leaning against the edge of the tub. She had a pretty smile, but he didn't like what brought it on. "Where'd you hear that?"

"You and Blueno do not know how to talk quietly together," she said. She leaned up against him, to fiddle with his goatee. "So? Are you? I've read about them in the paper Ivankov tries to hide from us. Now, that's an exciting lifestyle! How good it'd be to be a bandit! All that freedom to do what you wanted, without anyone holding you back, demanding that you pay and give - !"

"So, you'd want to be a bandit?" Lucci asked, frowning at her. "It's not an acceptable life. Stealing from others, with no responsibilities, running from the law – what sort of life is that?"

For some reason, her face softened significantly. Whether it was from his words, or the content, but something he said made her eyes glisten before she caught herself, looking away hastily. Blinking repeatedly, she wiped around her eyes then looked at him with slow smile.

"So they sent you after them. Hmf. They're too strong for you," she said haughtily.

"Nobody is 'too strong' for me,'" he said evenly. "This has been a long time coming. Their reign of terror has been allowed to rule for too long, and while they will suffer for their crimes, I find it fitting that it's me they sent for them. They want justice to be administered for the deaths of over three hundred Marines – they want answers for the death of Donquixote Doflamingo – "

"That's…huh."

Lucci shifted aside her hair to look at her profile, finding her looking off to the side with an unreadable expression. "Was he the one you were running from?"

"…Yes. Um…that family, in the south, where their weapons factory…they had a brothel. They…I worked there for some time, until…until I managed to escape, and…when I heard he was on the move from Dressrosa, I just…I panicked. i…I never wanted to go back."

"You said you were running from an arranged marriage - !"

"I did! I was! But I fell in love with a man who helped me run away, and – he sold me to the brothel, and - ! From there, that's what happened! That's why i…"

"Something about your story doesn't add up," he said, sitting up in the tub. "Who is your family? So that I may verify this with our records."

"On a farm, in the south, near the river – close to the coast. The family name is Christy, I'm the eldest son," she said hastily, looking at him with dread. "Please…I can't go back…they'll kill me. I want to live."

Lucci released her. The way she faced him made him feel that she wasn't lying. He reached up to soothe the light tremble of her chin, to smear the pattern of mascara from her cheeks. He admired her features; the sharp jawline, the trace of stubble at her chin, the faint lines of the sun at the corners of her eyes. While she wore makeup to hide the masculinity, there was too much of it, there. Her fingers weren't soft –they were callused. Her arms were covered with scars caused by what looked like a long ago knife fight, stitched terribly together. Her legs bore scars of various imprints, suggesting intense battles. Her midsection was intensely strong and ridged with muscle, and her shoulders were wide, able to carry much weight – she was not always a woman of leisure. She was a warrior of some sort, and while it intrigued Lucci, it was also something he admired. Any woman that could kick him through walls and make him work for a moment like this was worth his time and money.

He didn't like the thought of picturing her as a man. Her true self would turn him off harshly. Candy didn't know how much safer from him she was as a woman, because the moment she became a man, he would definitely go in for the kill without second thought.

"I don't like your enthusiasm for the Strawhats' lifestyle. They're criminals. They need to be brought back down to earth. I will be the one to do it."

Candy snorted ungracefully. "Good luck with that."

"And when I do, I expect you to be here."

"I'm not staying."

"We'll see about that," he assured her, leaning back against the tub. "I'll make damn sure you can't leave the compound. Right now, you're my favorite. And I always take care of my favorites."

Candy studied him for a few moments; then, when he thought she was going to smirk or smile at him, she turned her head, as if admitting some type of defeat.

: :

Her train ticket was denied, and she fumed at the counter, knowing it was his doing. The man behind the counter gave her a sheepish shrug, telling her she was on the No Travel list.

"Your family is concerned of your whereabouts, miss," he assured her gently. "Besides, don't you see the storm coming in? Winters are harsh in these parts."

"Thank you," she said, in her 'normal' voice, and his eyes widened as she grabbed her suitcase and stomped away. Outside of the train station, she looked around herself with frustration. She dared not reveal herself as her 'true' form, because this was a goddamn Marine compound, and Sanji Blackleg was a Wanted man. Her best bet was keeping the disguise and looking for another way out.

She looked at the denied ticket, noting that there was a train or coach stamp at the top. She headed in search of the coach services, looking for other possibilities. She found it, and watched the drivers from a distance, just to determine which one to approach first. Out of all of them, there was one moving about anxiously while the others were focused on conversation, looking over their vehicles. This one smoked cigarette after cigarette, sweating in the cold weather, and fanned himself with his hat; he was waiting for something under the table, she knew, and he would be her ride out.

An hour later, Sanji presented a stolen ticket from one of the customers waiting for a five o'clock passageway out on another coach. The driver didn't even look at it. He made to take his suitcase, but Sanji held it tight. He was dressed in male clothing with a hat he stole off from a bar stool in the nearby tavern, and he had his female persona in the suitcase. The driver indicated that he get in without looking for his identification, and the coach was off. He looked out the window to see a bewildered man with an outrageous ten gallon hat looking for a specific coach, looking just as nervous as the driver had.

Once they were out of the compound and on their way through a hilly roadway headed west, Sanji redressed in his female clothing, taking his time to apply makeup, to fix his hair. When she was finished she pulled her honey mink cape tight around herself, feeling the chill in the air as she watched the scenery pass from the open windows.

It had been easy to slip away from the house that morning – most of the girls were asleep, and Blueno had left a day earlier, so the newest bouncer was unfamiliar with the habits of the women staying there. Ivankov had taken off to the bank, and that was when Candy left. It wasn't that much of a surprise – Ivankov had bought her the ticket, either as apology for steering Lucci her way or as 'thanks' for taking him on.

She fiddled with her skirts – it was a dark maroon dress, heavy for the cold weather, and she wore her hair half up and half down, with a hat atop of it. Her clip-on earrings were only paste, and her honey mink cape was a gift from a customer. Her pantyhose itched, catching on the hair regrowing on her legs after she'd shaved them for Lucci's visit the other night.

It had been nearly three months since the fight on the train. Sanji had broken his leg from the fall, and landed into a trench that railroad workers had created to transport their supplies up and down the mountain. A pair of miners had found him, and had taken him to town. He didn't react very well to the act of kindness – old fears hit him hard, and while the pair had been bewildered to the wild fight he put up with their efforts to help him, they moved him to town anyway. The doctor there had reset his leg, given him antibiotics and sedatives to calm him down, then turned him into the local law enforcement because there had been a train accident discovered, and he thought Sanji was a part of that mess. The sheriff had taken him into custody, certain he was a Strawhat bandit, and intended on transporting him to the Marine compound nearby – the mountain range base, Aeneus, was larger than Cactus Rock. With the Marines alerted to the train wreck, they were sent out to investigate it.

Even with his leg out of commission, Sanji had taken control of the wagon that intended on taking him to the base. So he caught the attention of the Marines' headed that way. Most of them went after him, leaving only a few to continue on, and that was okay, because he was sure the others could handle that number. The wagon chase lasted for miles in the opposite direction, and by the time he reached a railroad town, the horses were done for and the Marines were short-tempered. He hid in the town, scavenging scraps fed to pigs from a nearby yard, and disguised himself as an old woman when he came across a wig tossed from someone's house. He rubbed pig shit on himself to discourage any close up investigating and put on quite a show as a hobbling, batty old woman wearing a cape.

For a week he lingered there, the Marines searching for him fruitlessly. When they left town, he hitched a ride on the passing train heading northwest, and found himself hindered by it stopping right inside the Marine compound he was trying to avoid in the first place. At this time, his leg was infected. It was only sheer luck that he ran into Ivankov on her way to the bank, who took pity on him. It was easy to shift from being a batty old woman to a she-male that was running from tormentors, and Ivankov took immediate care, no more questions asked. She had a doctor look over his leg, give him antibiotics, and fixed up other infections caused by his dash across the state.

In return, she expected him to entertain with the other girls. She truly was a gift from a God he didn't believe in, because her rules were for the safety of women. Their mission was to entertain the fellows, not sexually satisfy them – there was a brothel for that up the road, but it wasn't to say that the girls occasionally participated for something extra.

He used this down time to heal, because he could not kick with his full weight behind it, and he'd heard of the Strawhats' escape from the area, distancing themselves into a location unknown. He knew they'd come back to find him, and that was something he could not let them do.

So he made money for Ivankov. Enough to buy postcards that he addressed to a Auntie Nori - a codename he and Nami came up with in case this situation every happened. He then sent them to every available post office in the area the Strawhats had last been seen. Nearly a month went by, and when he received one with a picture of Montana's mountains in the distance, he nearly lost his resolve.

He'd recognize Law's handwriting anywhere, and to know that the man knew he was safe – it made things a little easier. But just hearing his name, seeing his Wanted poster in the newspapers Ivankov tried to hide from them, even just hearing the meaning of his name made Sanji incredibly weak inside. He wanted nothing more to be reunited with him, but he had to be careful about it, to not draw the Marines' attention their way. The postcard stamp was a town three hours to the east – they'd gone in that direction just to avoid the Marines, and he'd sent another postcard to say that he planned on meeting the family on a western coast transfer station in a week.

Hiding in practical plain sight on a Marine compound, where he could find out anything from loose-lipped officer's mouths as he entertained them, was incredibly useful and beneficial. His leg healed, it only needed physical therapy to encourage it to full use, again. Daily stretches and body weight workouts kept him in moderate shape, and antibiotics from Ivankov's trusted doctor kept him healthy.

Months after the train fight, and he was ready to move, again.

He studied his reflection in the window – the makeup on his face made him uncomfortable, and he was sure he'd hear a ton of shit from the others over his disguise. But he actually used Nami's mannerisms as Candy, and found himself much too good at it. He wondered what Law would think of him. Would he find him just as attractive?

Just thinking about the other man made him smile. His heart slammed against this chest with warmth. He couldn't wait to see him. He couldn't wait to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him, to hear him speak – his hands shook with the need, and he pushed them into his dress to still them.

The coach driver's gruff encouragement towards the horses provided a strange lullaby for her. Leaning against the sidewall, Candy crossed her arms tightly, propping her boots up on the seat ahead of her, and went to sleep.

In disorienting action, some time later, she flew to the floor with a startled yell as the coach made some demanding movements.

"Sorry fella! We're on the run! These bastards are closing in quick on ya!" the driver shouted, and Candy quickly climbed up and looked out the window with a light curse, expecting to see robbers. But she saw men in black riding their way on strong horses, and one of them was leveling a gun in their direction.

Gunshots rang out, and the horses were whipped to run faster. The wheels took to the ride with a wild speed, the driver hollering out encouragement. He even returned fire from what sounded like a smaller pistol. Then a shotgun when one of the riders came in close.

Cursing her luck, Candy looked out the other side of the coach, examining the scenery. It was large hillsides with mountains in the distance, already tipped with light snow. There was sheep being herded to lower grounds, and the driver had to slow down because of it. This allowed one of the riders to jump from his moving horse to the wagon, and the driver cursed fiercely as the horses squealed. There was a single shot, and the wagon was forced to a stop that had Candy cursing again. But she hastily fixed her hair, adjusted her mink cape.

When the door was forced open, a man with a Fu Manchu and a long ponytail looked in with a snarl, then a surprised expression once he realized he was looking at her. He hastily stepped away, saying, "Sorry, ma'am! I didn't know you were the only one in here!"

A shorter man, chubby and scowling, peered in from the side, and gave a frustrated curse. "That's clearly not our John Brady!"

"John Brady is definitely not a woman," the first said solemnly, rubbing his chin. "We must've got them mixed up."

"Come out, ma'am, while we sort this out," the second side, waving at her. Candy did cautiously, and they took note of her height as she descended to the hard ground. Then looked closely at her, sure that they were mistaken. The short one unrolled a paper from his inside jacket pocket and held it up so he and the other could look at it then at him, both of them shaking their heads.

"Nope, not him," they said together.

From behind her, the driver was dumped to the ground by the man that disabled him, and while still alive, he was clearly in a lot of pain.

The two turned their attention to him, crowding around him to pick him up and haul him away from the wagon while the other man jumped down. He looked at Candy with a startled look, then frowned sheepishly.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, ma'am! You're definitely not John Brady," he said. He reminded Candy of Ussop, but only because of the long nose. His gingery hair was cut short, combed to the side, and the black suit he wore had an attached hoodie to it. All of their black suits looked as if they belonged to a formal party, not an adventure in the wilderness. The taller one was wearing sunglasses, sleeves rolled up to display muscular arms, and the shorter one wore a flashy neon green tie, and he openly mocked the taller one as he handled the driver.

"Stand here, out of the way, and we'll get you to where you need to go," the third man said, indicating that she stand near the wagon. Their horses were left unattended nearby, obedient and heaving for breath, and she eyed them with consideration before looking back at the wagon. Seeing that they were occupied with the driver, who was spilling out everything he knew about John Brady, she began moving towards the closest horse, a spirited spotted horse with a long black fringe and a stub of a tail.

"I don't know what he's done, he just gave me a ton of money to take him out of town!" the driver cried, the shorter man's heel in his gut moments later. As he struggled to compose himself, he panted out, "Isn't that him in the back? I picked up a young fella who gave me a ticket – isn't that him?"

"There was only a woman in the back of your wagon, sir," the first man said crossly. "It wasn't Mr. Brady. You know who you're transporting? You know what this guy did? This man likes to take survivors from camps, kids, and distribute them to other interested parties not interested in their safety and wellbeing. We like to get rid of those folks, see? And for you to take interest in assisting him, well, it makes our back stiffen up a bit."

"Look at him! look at that fella! That's the one I…well, that's not – hey, I didn't pick up a woman!" the driver exclaimed, pointing. By the time the three noticed his words, the horse was speeding off, much to their surprise.

"What the hell, Kaku? What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Why's she running?"

"That's MY horse!"

"Jyabura, go! I'll catch up!"

"I'll take care of this guy. I don't think this will be his last ride."

With that in mind, Jyabura handed the ginger his sunglasses, then removed his jacket, tossing it onto the man's head. Before the driver's eyes, he switched forms. The horses hooked to the wagon squealed with fright as they registered a dangerous predator in their vicinity, and took off, causing the wagon to tilt dangerously.

"Ah, damn it, Fukuro, catch those horses! I'll stay with him!"

: :

The horse was fast, and seemed to enjoy being pushed into a full run. It felt nice being atop of an animal again, feeling the speed against her face, the feeling of freedom all around her. The open air was gloriously clean and fresh, without the stench of a town with sewage collecting on the streets. The road was wide open and promising, leading up to the mountains with a slow incline, and from the look of the clouds, the storm would hit by tomorrow morning. She had enough time to put distance between herself and the agents, and she knew she could elude them easily once she switched out of her get up. She looked back, gripping with her legs – noting that the left felt frustratingly weak – and looked into the bags aligned with the saddle. They had a couple of days' worth of supplies, a gun, some ammo, a hunting knife – the other bag had clothes, a bedroll, some documents that looked interesting. They were Wanted posters of men she'd never seen before, and none of them were the Strawhats.

She closed up the bags and returned to leaning low with the horse, encouraging him to run faster. The horse agreed to this, putting on the speed, eager to enjoy itself in the freedom of the run. Looking behind her, they'd left the wagon far behind, and there was nobody following them.

Looking ahead, she felt excitement race through her veins, giving a joyous shout to the cold wind in that she'd be seeing the others very soon.

: :

The treeline came up quick, and she slowed the horse's run to a mild jog, digging into the bag for the gun. She loaded it carefully, the horse snorting and tossing his head, catching his breath. The trees that had lost most of their leaves during autumn rustled softly, branches rubbing each other, pines whipping through the air. There was the sound of water running nearby, so she guided the horse in that direction, noting that the land was rockier, the hillsides brown with faint green patches, and the leaves were gold in some areas, still, and the chill in the air made her shiver. She could see her breath as she breathed, touching her face, feeling the chill on her cheeks.

Looking up at the mountain tops, they were beautiful and majestic, lightly dusted with snow. Large bird of prey swirled through the cold air, screeching to each other. She remembered Law telling her that these birds mated for life. She smiled upward at the sight of them, feeling excited in that she was going to see the man very soon. For someone that had grown up pampered and spoiled rotten in rich settings, he sure knew a lot about wildlife. Maybe it had to do with him living on his own all these years in the desert, when Rosinante hid him away from Doflamingo.

The horse drank at the river's edge, snorting, pawing at the water that looked bone-chillingly cold. Candy looked around herself, figuring she could change in the area before they moved on, but the horse still snorted and looked up, tensing. His ears laid flat over his skull, nostrils flaring, and Candy felt the uneasy sensation of being watched.

She scanned the nearby treeline, holding the gun in her lap with one hand, the other holding tightly onto the reins. Branches rattled noisily against each other, the river bubbling gently before them, pushing through rocks and various debris through a meandering path down some trees. The birds screeched overhead, and, in the distance, a wolf howled – the horse was spooked, and it lifted its hooves and jumped forward, intending on moving away from danger. Candy let him take to the river, crossing it with a nervous glance around, scanning for anybody on a horse or on foot to be watching them. The silence was just unnerving. The wolf's howl turned into persistent barking, and it was moving up their way. She waited for its pack to answer it, and nervously licked her lips. Once the horse reached the river bank, they were moving up and over the grass, settling onto uneven terrain on the other side. Candy pushed him forward, moving him around rocks and dangerous dips in the patches of grass.

The wolf howled out again, and it was definitely closer. Probably starving, due to the settlers pushing in on their territory, taking away their natural hunting grounds. Candy pushed the horse into a run once they touched out onto an open meadow. Moving through the thick grass startled deer taking cover there, and the animals rose up in a majestic wave of brown. They started running around the horse to escape its panicked flight, then changed direction, and suddenly were running in pace with them, all of them in a panic.

Having never seen this time of movement from animals before, Candy looked around herself with considerable awe, as deer took to fleeing flight around the horse. All of them looked wide eyed and terrified, nostrils flaring, and the large buck with the huge spread of antlers took to the front of the pack, clearly intending on leading the way to safety. The smaller ones were edging around the females, and she absolutely could not wait to go back and tell the others about this fantastic sight. Turning slightly in the saddle, she scanned the herd's size, then caught sight of movement from behind of it.

There was a large unnatural sized wolf running after them. The thing was clearly bigger than the horse itself. Candy's mouth fell open, absolutely astounded by the size of the thing. There was no way that thing was real.

She lifted the gun and fired once in that direction, the wolf eluding the round with a slight step to the left, then started picking up speed, panting heavily. The deer were alerted to its presence and scattered, and they were running on hard, flat surface.

She fired at the wolf again, and it once again side stepped.

She faltered because she never seen animals do that, either; instinctively dodge a firing shot of a gun. The horse picked up speed, head lowered, so she returned her attention to its path. They were on hilly grounds, moving away from the meadow, and the grass here was brown, with patches of dull green. There were rocks and boulders in their path, fallen from a nearby mountain side, and there were large trees coming up in the distance.

With a frown, she looked back at the wolf. It was a dull brown, with patches of grey atop of it, and there was something about those brilliant yellow eyes that suggested intelligence. That thing could not be a natural creature – she wanted to assume it was a god, one of those spirits that the hostiles in the area talked about. She was actually a little frightened about that concept, because it was easy to attribute something unknown to something out of a fairy tale. She lifted the gun and aimed once more, firing off a couple of shots that the wolf actively avoided. Reaching back for the ammo pouch, she reloaded, holding onto the horse with both legs.

"Find the best way!" she encouraged the animal, who seemed to understand that. He twisted suddenly and took a different path, forcing her to hang on tight as the shift in path caused the wolf to stumble, losing speed as it moved to catch itself. It gave an anxious bark, as if it were cursing itself, then poured on speed to chase.

The horse took them through the tree line, so Candy leaned in close to its head so her head wouldn't be taken out by passing branches. Negotiating the woody terrain, the animal shifted through obstacles like a natural, slowing the wolf down. It barked and snarled, yelped a couple of times, but the horse continued running until it burst out from the tree line, entering a long meadow with spring patches through it. The presence of water caused the ground to be soft, spongy, and it slowed it down considerably. The horse shifted direction and took to the edge of it, running hard. The wolf barked once it ran through cold water, slipped across mud and patches of brush.

Candy turned and fired at the wolf as it fought to right itself, and it pulled back with a spring of its legs, giving them some time to gain some distance. Once the wolf pushed itself back to its feet, it released a long howl before springing after them again.

The horse suddenly came to a stop, then switched direction back towards the springs, causing Candy to nearly fall off. As she righted herself, she realized she was seeing another massive shape move through the tree to their right. Moving through low hanging branches, walls of brush, was something with spots and a long tail. It was bigger than the wolf.

Wide eyed, Candy waited for it to reveal itself as the horse raced through the brush, panting tightly, its head glancing in that direction far more than it did the wolf behind it. Once the thing revealed itself to be a very large cat, looking nothing like the native cats in the area, Candy felt her expression change with rising panic and fear. She looked back at the wolf, who was moving in such a way as to flank their other side, then back at the cat, she realized that they were actually working together. They were driving the horse's instincts to flee, steering it towards the springy mud for their advantage.

She grabbed the reins, and forced the horse to the treeline, holding the gun in hand. The horse didn't want to go in that direction, but once she started shooting at the cat, it gained some confidence. The cat retreated a little, then took another path as the wolf followed them in.

The horse galloped through the area with hard pants, more concerned about the cat than it was about the wolf. Once they emerged into an open area, Candy realized it was a bad idea – the river opened up to them, wide and grand – making her think she was actually looking at the Skypiea river that cut down through the states, through the southwest – and to their side was a drop off into a rocky pathway that steeply declined down to some meadows, and just beyond that, some farms.

With relief, Candy pushed the horse towards the river. The horse went to it, and didn't hesitate to run through it, until both of them sank into the deep, and the horse struggled to keep its head up, and Candy had to hold on with both hands to avoid being swept away. The wolf paused at the edge of the river and the cat joined them. Together, they stood, glaring in their direction, breathing heavily.

Candy stared, certain people would never believe her if she told them this story. The current pushed the horse further away from the bank, and she held the gun in her mouth to hold onto the reins, calmly the panicking animal as they were swept downstream. Once the horse reached an area he could climb up to escape the water's pull, Candy looked back and saw that the two were gone.

The horse was calmer, knowing that they'd escaped certain peril. Encouraging him to continue on, headed for the farms, Candy looked back once more, scanning the area for any sign of the godlike creatures. She continued to feel unsettled with the entire thing, hoping the farmers below would believe her.