-Part 1-

The First Pair and No More Pirates

-Then-

Although the shoebox was still left open and empty Doflamingo remained calm as he passed by the neglected remnants of Crocodile's buried treasure, making his way further into the desert where some large rocks lay. He pulled the sleeves of his school uniform up, letting the heat prickle against his light skin, as to not let himself get too dirty. Although his mother never had to clean she always found ways to complain about his less than sterile lifestyle.

From a distance he could make out a figure that was sitting against one of the larger boulders, hiding underneath the bit of shade that the dessert offered. A small smile crept it's way on to Dolfamingo's face as he hurried over to the heated landmarks, kicking up sand and allowing it to rest on his uniform.

Doflamingo stopped several feet away from Crocodile, letting the dust cloud around him fall as to not get any on the older boy. He hastily dusted himself down and walked the rest of the way, noting that the boy sitting on the shaded sand was not looking his way, but instead either wring or drawing in his notebook. He also noticed that, although Crocodile did have drinks with him, his backpack was missing. It was strange, especially since it was a Friday, but at the very least Crocodile was appropriately prepared for the harsh weather.

He stopped just inches in front of the older boy. "You're here!"

Crocodile didn't look up, but continued to work in his spiraled notebook. Doflamingo could see a twitch at the ends of the boy's lips.

"Hey," he said.

Crocodile frowned, refusing to respond.

"…are you ignoring me?" Doflamingo asked, leaning to a squat and pouting at the boy. Crocodile's refusal to answer hinted this was the case and Doflamingo bit his lower lip in offense, bringing himself up and taking a step back.

"What did I do?!" he whined.

Of course there was no response other than Crocodile pressing his pencil against the notebook with noticeable force.

"You can't ignore me forever!" Doflamingo complained. He waited a few seconds before quickly adding, "It's not fair. I didn't even do anything!"

Crocodile didn't bother to look up at him, only continuing to draw in his notebook and silently pretend the younger boy wasn't there.

"Did you get into trouble?" Doflamingo asked; leaning in close and purposely letting his warm breath hit the boy's head. "Huhhhh?"

Crocodile's eyes peered up, making brief contact with Doflamingo's before the boy uttered a low growl, lowering his head further from the boy.

Doflamingo whined again, this time kicking the sand in front of Crocodile, risking an attack from the older boy as he continued to pester him into speaking. He watched Crocodile throw his notebook to the side and wave his arms about, trying to push away the cloud of hot dust from his face. Doflamingo hoped to get some verbal response from Crocodile, but was instead met with the hard impact of a half filled can of Coke. He fell to the ground, hissing and holding in another whine as he wiped his forehead covered in soda. He looked down at his uniform and stared dismayed at the brown stain on his shirt.

"What the hell!" Doflamingo groaned. He pulled himself back up and ran towards Crocodile, reaching out and grabbing several long, violet locks and pulling them roughly, forcing Crocodile's face right into his Coke stained shirt.

"Heyyy!" Crocodile yelled, smacking Doiflamingo's sides and he attempted to free himself from Doflamingo's grasp. Doflamingo held on tight, only pulling the boy's hair more when he felt the hard smacks against his waist.

"Dammit, let me go!"

"No!" Doflamingo yelled. "Say you're sorry!" Right as he made the demand Crocodile changed tactics and hit Doflamingo's lower stomach with his left fist. The boy coughed, but held on, kicking up more sand in hopes of temporary blinding his bigger, stronger friend.

"Ugh, let me go!" Crocodile made another attempt, this time raising his arms up and grabbing hold of Doflamingo's, letting his nails dig into the boy's peached skin. Doflamingo yelped, holding in tears as he tried to quickly think up a way out of this predicament.

"Let go Doflamingo!"

Doflamingo looked down at his reddened arms and briefly considered the pain he was in and thought that perhaps giving in to Crocodile's demands was a good idea. There was a good chance that the older boy would probably kick his ass, but at the very least he wasn't being ignored anymore.

"Let go of my hair!" Another blow to the stomach, this time too strong for Doflamingo hold against. He let go of Crocodile and fell to the ground, his back landing right on top of several small rocks while Crocodile smacked the back of his head against the boulder, both of them whining and whimpering in pain.

"…you fight like a girl," Doflamingo heard Crocodile remark. He stopped rubbing his injured body and sat himself upright and stared at the older boy leaning against the giant rock, nursing his aching head with both his hands.

"You ignored me," Doflamingo said. "And you threw a can at me!"

"You kicked sand in my face!" Crocodile spat back.

"Cause you wouldn't talk to me!" Doflamingo yelled. He rubbed his sides and stared down at his uniform, which was now covered in a nice layer of sand, bits of gravel, dried up twigs and weeds, and soda. "I'm going to get into so much trouble now," he muttered.

"Good," Crocodile said, having caught the boy's quiet remark.

Doflamingo looked up and glared at Crocodile. "Just cause you get into trouble doesn't mean you have to be such a jerk about it!"

Crocodile chuckled, "Am I hurting your feelings?"

Doflamingo huffed. This sort of sadism wasn't unusual with Crocodile, but having it directed at him made bearing with the older boy's negative personality harder, especially coming from a long week of worrying about him. Although his overall health greatly improved, Crocodile has been abnormally passive and silent throughout his stay at Doflamingo's, growing all the more anxious and spastic as the sun set into night. Since his own parents cared little to visit their son's room, Doflamingo himself allowed the boy to stay the rest of the night, hoping that the sleepover would provoke the boy to confess personal mysteries that bugged the younger child.

He had hardly learned a thing. Most of the night was spent with Crocodile distracting Doflamingo away from such questions, and Doflamingo, having always wanted to be the one to entertain Crocodile, fell for it all. It was a real shame that he never noticed how little involved the boy actually was when he played games with him, how he would constantly look out the window with much aspiration, what kind Doflamingo still couldn't tell; those golden eyes hardly ever locking with what was going occurring on the screen. Doflamingo was stupid enough to believe he was beating the boy at just about every game they played.

After begging the maid to provide several helpings of ice cream, which Doflamingo suspected had the properties necessary to fix an upset stomach (he had noticed it was the one thing Crocodile held on to the most during his worst), the two dined and Crocodile would appear at his best out of the entire night. It was around this time Doflamingo had forgotten his goal of learning more about his friend and had simply begun to talk about whatever came across his mind. He'd ask childish questions, most of them having to do with Crocodile in some way, and some of them having to do with his own life, but none of them were deep enough to lead the older boy into panic. He asked questions about school, the difference between his and Crocodile's, about books, pirates, money, oceans, animals, and all other things currently clung to his mind.

They went to bed late. Doflamingo remembered trying to think of a way to casually reach out and hold on to Crocodile. It mattered little; whenever he stirred Crocodile would nudge him away, and roughly too. Touching leads to dangerous surprises.

Sometime before he had fallen asleep Doflamingo had gathered enough courage to ask Crocodile about the comment he had made earlier in the day regarding his contempt for his home. His last attempt had failed, but he hoped the warmth of the covers, as well the hospitality he had provided all day, would have softened Crocodile to give him some sort of answer.

He asked Crocodile what was going to happen to him now. The boy had said he wouldn't ever go back home, and although it was a dream that Doflamingo wished he could have made come true, even he knew that such a thing was impossible. He remembered Crocodile once telling him to leave a letter should he ever run away, so that his parents would learn a lesson, and thought about the letter Crocodile must have left for his parents. And unlike Doflamingo, Crocodile had so far successfully done a good job in teaching that lesson; right now his parents had no idea where their son was, and were being emotionally tormented by whatever cruel words Crocodile had chosen to leave behind. But Crocodile would have to go back home now. And there was no way he'd get away with this unpunished.

Crocodile had answered softly, "I don't know what will happen now."

And now, several days later, Crocodile sat in the middle of a desert, renewed and no longer showing signs of sickness, his arms crossed as he stared smugly up at Doflamingo, his thin lips glued together as he laughed through his nose, taking delight in the younger boys struggle to keep cool.

Doflamingo sighed. "No," he lied.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten expelled yet," Crocodile remarked, eyeing the boy's stained clothes. "You say you're always getting into fights," he rubbed his head as he uttered the words, "so unless you're losing them, then there's something going on."

"I'm not a loser," Doflamingo quickly warned.

"Are you lying to me?"

"Nuh-uh," he answered almost as quickly as before.

"Then why are you still going to that school?" Crocodile asked.

"My parents don't want me going to a normal school," Doflamingo answered. "They said I couldn't. They said it's beneath me…"

Crocodile smirked, "so your mommy and daddy are bailing you out?" He laughed, picking up a handful of sand and throwing it in Doflamingo's direction, the wind carrying it out of the way and saving Doflamingo the trouble of even more dirt on his stained uniform. Nevertheless, the child blushed from hearing this and stomped over to Crocodile, pushing the boy right back into the boulder and letting his head once again smack against it.

"Ow! Dammit, Doflamingo!" Crocodile hissed, smacking the boy right on his sore side.

"Why are you so angry today," Doflamingo coughed, managing to hold his own and not fall from the stinging impact.

"None of your business," the older boy answered.

"I don't want you ignoring me," Doflamingo said in a threatening tone. "It's not fair. I didn't do anything…stop acting like I'm the one who made you run away from home. You did. Not me."

"God, you're so annoying," Crocodile said.

"At least I'm not some retard who goes out to the desert when he's sick…and doesn't bring anything with him!" Doflamingo added. He stared down at Crocodile's side, once again realizing that the boy's backpack was not with him.

"Don't you call me a retard," the older boy threatened.

"Yeah, well, guess who didn't bring their backpack with them again?" Doflamingo asked with a cruel grin. "You called me dumb for leaving without food or water, but you did the same twice!"

Crocodile frowned. Doflamingo watched gleefully as the boy struggled to keep his composure, finally giving in with a sigh and responding, "Yeah…but…I don't have my backpack."

"What, did you lose it?" Doflamingo asked with a haughty laugh.

"No." Crocodile lowered his head, hiding the growing scowl on his face. "My mom took it." Almost after saying this Crocodile seemed to soften and looked over to his notebook, grabbed it, and reopened it, his right hand shifting through the sand, searching for the pencil he had lost.

"Why?" Doflamingo asked.

Crocodile didn't answer. He let his notebook rest on his raised legs as his left hand began to aid the right in the search for the lost pencil. Crocodile keep his eyes glued on the notebook.

"Stop ignoring me!" Doflamingo yelled.

Crocodile raised his head up, visibly biting his tongue as he withheld the urge to stand up and smack the blonde.

"She took it cause she thought I wouldn't leave without it!" Crocodile answered, his voice nearly breaking from the sudden scream. "Alright, now shut up!"

So Crocodile was being punished for his last attempt to get back at his family, or at least his mother was. Doflamingo sucked on his bottom lip as he tried to think of how such a punishment would work, after all; Crocodile needed his backpack in order to get to school, so how was he without one now? Doflamingo turned his head and stared at the serene scene of heat arising from the desert ground, further asking himself whether or not Crocodile's father had a say in this strange punishment. He wanted to ask Crocodile, but wasn't sure if he would get an answer, let alone a satisfying one. That, and his last question seemed to have genuinely upset the older boy.

"That sucks," he muttered, looking back at Crocodile.

"She's stupid," Crocodile responded, letting a finger rub against the innards of his notebook. "She couldn't stop me from leaving even if she really tried."

Doflamingo frowned. "Did she take it after you left school?"

Crocodile looked up at Doflamingo, his eyes dull and grave.

"I haven't been to school," he said.

"You haven't?"

"Not all week," he answered.

"Did you get sicker?" Doflamingo asked worryingly.

Crocodile cupped his hands together and covered his mouth, shaking his head at the younger boy. He closed his eyes for several seconds, appearing as though he was preparing to say something to explain this, but when he opened his eyes Doflamingo could see that the boy had regretted confession this strange piece of information and refrained from speaking further on the matter. Tell me.

"That's weird," Doflamingo said. "But you got to stay home all week, so that must have been nice, right?"

The eleven year old groaned aloud.

"Will you get in trouble with the school?" he asked.

Crocodile stiffly shook his head. "I'm excused," he muttered.

Doflamingo nod his head and then continued to watch the older boy, waiting for him to go back to being cocky and unlikable. But this time Crocodile seemed bothered by something, his eyes continuously looking away as though his mind were preoccupied with something other than the drawings in his notebook.

"Crocodile," Doflamingo said, his voice sincere and hands swaying softly on his sore side.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for pulling your hair," he said.

Crocodile stare blankly at Doflamingo, not entirely sure what to make out of the sudden apology. Such a thing was rare in his young life, and would not occur at higher frequencies till he was much older, when all the secrets were out. "…I'm sorry I threw a can of Coke at you," he finally managed to mutter out after a long, awkward silence.

Doflamingo, no longer worried about the statues of his uniform, sat himself right next to Crocodile, taking in the limited amount of shade there was, and stared at the brutal interpretation that the older boy had scribbled while he was out.

"Crocodile," Doflamingo asked while eyeing the picture, "what did you do with all your treasure?"

Crocodile frowned, turning the page and starting a fresh new depiction. "It's all at home now," he answered.

"Will you bury it again?" Doflamingo asked.

"…I don't think so," he answered. "It was really stupid to leave it all out here."

"But I thought you did it because it was cool," the boy said. "You liked it."

"Just because I like something doesn't mean it's a good idea," Crocodile replied. He pressed the pencil hard against the sheet of paper, dragging a dark line in between the half made figure's legs. "Besides, playing pirates, that's for babies."

Doflamingo frowned. "I really like that game. Stealing money and burying it was so much fun."

"I'll give you your share tomorrow," Crocodile answer without looking at the child's disappointed expression.

"I don't you to just give it to me," Doflamingo whined. Crocodile didn't say a word, only continuing to work on his strange work. Doflamingo made another glimpse at it and figured the boy was trying to correct the mistake he had made between the person's legs, now that there was a dark line between them. But instead he watched Crocodile bring his pencil down and frantically thicken the line, letting the jagged mark grow and crash into a dark puddle that swarmed around the characters legs. It looked terrible, nothing he had seen the boy do before.

"You should erase it," Doflamingo said. "It looks like her guts are falling out…"

"….maybe they are," Crocodile said.

"Nuh-uh," the boy said, pointing at the thickened line. "You draw much better insides than this!" He smiled. "You're just being lazy."

"Am I…," the boy muttered. He stared at the picture and shook his head. "I'm not going to change it."

"…what will you do with the treasure?" Doflamingo asked.

"Save it," the boy responded automatically. He lifted his pencil to the head and let it hover as he thought up an expression to add.

"Just saving?" Doflamingo rested his head against the warm rock and stared up, "how are we gonna get things if we cant spend money?"

"You can spend your money," Crocodile said. "I'm not. I can't spend it right now." He removed the pencil from the picture and let it rest on the sand, leaving the strange, unknown figure without a face. "I need to save it for something."

"What is it?" Doflamingo asked, his eyes glowing with curiosity.

Crocodile closed his notebook and stood up, stretching his arms out in the sunlight. Doflamingo watched in his usual fascination as he glimpsed bits of bare skin while the boys arms were raised, his mind soaking in endorphins as he began to wonder and realize that things had somehow went back to normal. Everything that had occurred the previous weekend was now just some unwanted memory that could easily be erased. Crocodile was in trouble, but despite this he had still managed to get here on his own. Even though they had just fought, things were still ok. Crocodile wasn't going to spend his money and wasn't going to hide his treasure in their private wonderland, but things were still going to be ok.

"Doflamingo," Crocodile said, his hand holding the pencil and notebook. Doflamingo stared at the few articles and felt himself pout, worried that their meeting would be cut short.

"What," he asked hesitantly.

"What's the one thing in the world that you'd really like to have?" Crocodile asked. He gripped the notebook tighter and brought it to his chest, where his other arm met with his right. "The one thing that would make you really, really happy?" he asked desperately. Did you really think you could buy that happiness?

Doflamingo assumed this had something to do with what Crocodile wanted to purchase. Correct. Of course, whatever he would say, he was sure Crocodile would only ridicule as being less important as what he wanted. Also true. What did the boy want to buy? What did he want to buy? What would make him happy, very happy?

Doflamingo's answer, as with any answer to a question raised by Crocodile, of course was met with some insult. Crocodile refused to believe and accept the boy's response as being genuine, but after some long, drawn out argument brought by Doflamingo, Crocodile softened up and bit and nod his head, giving in the boy's answer and even deciding to go ahead and fulfill that desire.

Doflamingo was only too pleased to hear this. There were very few things that would have made him so happy. Although he was gifted with many material things, he really only required a few things to please him. One of these things was Crocodile, which he had. The other thing was a certain object that had he had admired from afar, never having quite enough money to get on his own.

"Which one do you like?" Crocodile asked.

The two of them stood in front of a small, local supermarket, with Doflamingo being hoisted up by Crocodile. Doflamingo squint his eyes, looking through the window and making out the row of colored spectacles that were adorned in the corner of the store, next to the makeup department, it's very location making the heist-to-be rather tricky in nature. There were sunglasses in an array of different shades and shapes, each one appealing to Doflamingo in some way or another. But he knew because of his size and his less than delicate lifestyle that picking a more expensive pair was probably not a good idea. He wanted to prove to Crocodile that he really meant it when he said he would be happy with a pair, and picking something sturdy to survive him was something to consider. He really did the like ones with the purples shades, or the nice looking red ones... maybe another day.

"The thick rimmed ones look pretty cool," Doflamingo said.

"What color?" Crocodile struggled to ask underneath him.

"Black," Doflamingo said.

"What row?" Crocodile coughed.

"Uhm…five!" Doflamingo answered.

"Alright," Crocodile said, suddenly dropping the younger body. Doflamingo struggled to keep balance as the older boy shook his arms out. He was then handed five dollars, money that would not be spent on the sunglasses, but made to achieve the planned theft.

"Remember what I told you," Crocodile said. "You need to be very serious about this."

"I know," Doflamingo said with a wide, excited grin.

He went in first. Doflamingo made his way directly to the cashier, keeping his face a straight as he could, pretending his clothes weren't stained with a day's worth of sweat, dirt, grime, and that half filled can of Coke. He waited in line, keeping his eyes away from the front entrance where Crocodile would soon be walking through, and patiently waited for his turn. He then walked up the clerk, an older woman, and, raising the money up to her, with an innocent smile glued to his face, asked, "excuse me, Miss, may I please have a pack of cigarettes?"

This, of course, arose a big enough distraction for Crocodile to take the glasses without being noticed. Although the makeup department was just one aisle away from the cashier the boy was able to pick the pair that Doflamingo had described to him, yank the tag off, and place the sunglasses on him (they fit his face almost perfectly), and walk out of the store without bringing any attention. Doflamingo, on the other hand, was forced into an interrogation as to why a child his age wanted dangerous drugs. He did his part and lied when he had to, making sure to add on as much time as he thought necessary. It only took Crocodile a minute to grab them and leave, but the younger child was stuck in the store for nearly five minutes before let go with a warning.

Once out Doflamingo walked through the town until he hit the liquor store where Crocodile was, waiting for his five dollars, and Doflamingo eager to take the shaded spectacles, ran to him, jumping up and down once he was close enough.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cried, greedily snatching the sunglasses from the boy. He placed them on his face, not caring that they began to slip over his small nose.

"They're too big," he heard Crocodile say.

"I'll get bigger," Doflamingo said, swinging his head to Crocodile and nearly losing the glasses from that simple action. He pushed them back up and stared through the new, darkened world. He saw Crocodile look back at him, his expression somehow changed through the shades perception.

"So, you like them?" Crocodile asked.

"Uh-huh!" Doflamingo said. He let his fingers grab hold of the shining plastic as he continued to push the sunglasses up to his face.

"You better take care of them," Crocodile said. "I'm pretty sure they had cameras. We might not be allowed to go back there."

He opened his hand to Doflamingo, who then handed the boy his money. As the two made their back into the neighborhood Doflamingo continued to fondle his new prize, ever the more grateful for Crocodile as he stared up at the sky, the houses, and eventually the park. He thought once more about the comment Crocodile had said, and then wondered what sort of thing Crocodile wanted to buy himself, and then questioned if he could help Crocodile just as they boy had helped him. Yes.

Doflamingo didn't ask because he knew Crocodile would only say "no" to his suggestion. He knew he'd have to wait a while before he could earn his way into aiding the boy that way. It was hard enough to get him to come over to his house without Crocodile nearly breaking down, it would be even harder to get him to admit that he might need help buying whatever it was he wanted to buy. Still, there was something he had to ask.

"How much does it cost?" Doflamingo asked.

"What?" Crocodile said, stopping.

"What you want to buy?" Doflamingo asked, continuing onward till he was just ahead of Crocodile. "How much will it cost for you go get it?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Then how will you know you have enough to get it?" the boy asked, pushing up the sunglasses again.

The older boy crossed his arms, letting the notebook he held dangle between a few fingers as he stared out, not entirely sure himself.

"How long do you think it will take for you to save enough?" Doflamingo then asked; only making Crocodile more silent as he tried to think up a reasonable answer that would satisfy both of them.

Crocodile sighed. "Hopefully not too long…" He looked nervous as he said those words. Doflamingo chose not to continue to conversation, deciding to focus on the start of a brand new cycle, him and his new treasure, and celebrate that things had almost gone back the way they were before.

The two went to the very end of the park where Doflamingo had left his bike chained. He wanted to stay at the park, knowing quite well that the desert would no longer hold the fun and secrets as before, but Crocodile refused to remain there. There were playgrounds and trees at the park, and there was hardly a thing out in the desert anymore, Doflamingo had argued. The rocks were too hot. There was hardly any shade. The scorpions and tarantulas were hiding this time of the day. There was no treasure to protect. What was the point of spending the hottest parts of the day in such a lonely place?

"I like it there," Crocodile said.

"Just stay here and draw something," Doflamingo said. He remembered the faceless woman and grabbed the boy's arm. "You can finish your picture."

"The stupid picture is already done," Crocodile said. "I don't want to draw and I can't stay here. I already told you I wasn't supposed to leave."

Doflamingo had listened carefully to those last words and put it together to mean that Crocodile must live very close, if not right next to, the park. No sooner had this entered his mind did he suddenly give glances around the neighborhood that enveloped the park and wonder which one they boy might be living in.

"I'm leaving," Crocodile said.

Doflamingo stopped. "Don't go," he said. "We can stay at the very back…"

Crocodile looked frustrated from the incessant whining that Doflamingo continued to throw at him, but rather than say something cruel, or even start another fight, Crocodile chose to perform another one of those rare decision that he would hardly ever do. Part of this was simple because he had had enough of Doflamingo and had grown tired of dealing with him, another part was because–or at least Doflamingo like to think so–he cared about Doflamingo enough to let him in on what was going on, not enough to really know what was going on, but enough to not upset the boy.

So Crocodile told him that valuable piece of information that he ought to have told the boy some hours prior to this wonderful day. Because, by telling him now, after everything the boy had experienced, he was essentially tearing apart everything Doflamingo had theorized about that day.

"We're not going to hang out on Friday anymore." And Doflamingo couldn't find the strength to fix the position of his sunglasses.

Oh, the horror. Things were changing.

-Now-

Doflamingo sat outside a small coffee shop, sipping on his chocolate, skimmed cappuccino, waiting for the young woman who had responded to his personal add. Once in a while he would hear a loud "cling" or "clang" from behind him, all of this caused by Vergo's terrible eating habits, and he would grow somewhat nervous and ask himself if bringing the older man was a good idea. He wanted to make sure this possible, new associate would work well within his industry, and thought it appropriate to bring Vergo along and listen in on the conversation. The man had a weekend break from his training, so although Doflamingo could very well dismiss Vergo from the interview, it would have been an offensive waste of the older man's time, and Doflamingo wasn't sure he could bear with that. There was nothing worse than wasting time.

"Doflamingo Donquixote?"

He raised his eyes up, looking though the small space of his lowered sunglasses and stared at a young woman with dyed green hair and large, thick glasses.

"You're Monet?" he asked, smiling and lowering his cup.

She gave a quick nod. She removed her glasses and let them hang on her tank top. Doflamingo couldn't help but notice her pale skin, all the more serene once he stared at those pinkish lips performing the flirtatious smirk.

"May I?" she asked, pointing at the chair in front of the round table where he sat. He quickly noticed the French accent and gave into a smirk, gesturing her to relax as he pulled his cup from the center of the table, allowing her the necessary space.

Once she was seated he dove right in, giving her no opportunity to think too much on answers. He wanted a woman that could lie, but he wanted someone he knew everything about.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Quebec," she answered smoothly.

Canada was neither as exotic or as arousing as France, but it was close enough for her to almost be an American in nature.

"Quebec's very far from California," Doflamingo commented.

"Call me a fan of the American Dream," she responded.

Doflamingo chuckled, leaning in and letting his chair hit the back of Vergo's. He heard the sound glass hitting the floor and breaking, but managed not to react to it.

"Is that why you responded?" he asked. "You think I'll make your dreams come true?"

"I'll make my own dreams come true," she said, still smiling confidently at Doflamingo. She picked up the menu resting on the table and lifted it to her face, but kept her eyes on him, not breaking away from any eye contact. She was good.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen," she answered. "Too young to stay at your place, I presume?"

"No, you're old enough," he said. "But do you have any family members looking for you?" He clasped his hands together, carefully watching Monet as he she dropped the menu, allowing him to look for any twitching muscles, evading eyes, sweat.

"I have no family," she answered stoically.

"None at all?"

"No," she said. "Other than my age, you really have little to worry about." She fixed her tank top and relaxed her arms on the table. "I'm an adult on my Visa, and I have the right to work under any profession you choose to mark. I'm bilingual, which was one of your criteria, I've been described as trustworthy, and I have always taken my jobs seriously."

"How many jobs could a sixteen year old have held?"

She tilt her head to the side and let it hand above her shoulder. "You'd be quite surprised."

"Would I?" he asked. He could feel himself being pulled closer into her round, brown eyes. In the sunlight they almost appeared amber. But it still wasn't gold. He almost wished she wasn't here for a potential job.

"How do I know you wont cause me any trouble?" he asked her.

"I told you I'd make my dreams come true," she said. "I just need the resource's to get there. I think you'll provide them to me."

"And what would you do for them?"

"Everything your ad hinted at, I'd be able to do for you."

Doflamingo heard Vergo cough. Whether it was a sign he liked what he was hearing, or almost choking on a piece of muffin, he wasn't too sure. But he did like Monet. She seemed serious about this. She came dressed in tight enough clothing to let him know she was bugged for the conversation. She said the right things. She knew how and when to make eye contact. She was young. She was very attractive.

"Vergo?" Doflamingo said aloud.

Vergo turned his head and leaned in close to Doflamingo, nearly tapping the back of his chair against Doflamingo's. He watched Monet's eyes rise once Vergo grabbed the table, staring at her through his dark shades. In his other hand was half a muffin being squeezed in his overly powerfully grip. She didn't look too surprised.

"Yes Sir?" he asked.

"Finish the interview," Doflamingo asked.

"Sir?"

"I can't allow any bias in deciding whether or not she meets your requirements." Doflamingo rested his hand on Vergo's shoulder. "She's supposed to work under you, after all."

"I understand," he said in his ever-usual stoic tone.

Doflamingo got up from his seat, smiling at Monet and said, "thank you for your time. I'll have my associate finish the rest of the interview. It shouldn't take to long, unless he really likes you."

"Is he picky?" she asked, making a quick glance at Vero who was now sitting himself down where Doflamingo once sat.

"Extremely," Doflamingo answered. "But don't you worry your pretty little head. He won't do anything awful to you should you fail the interview."

For the first time he saw Monet produce a frown. Apparently the thought of her possibly being harmed had not occurred. Doflamingo took pride in knowing he had brought that animal fear out her confident self.

Vergo offered his muffin filled hand to Monet. "Please to meet you. Let us get started on some necessities that–"

"Your hand has a muffin in it," Doflamingo interrupted.

Vergo looked down at the hand he was to shake with Monet and shook his head. "My apologies," he said to the young girl. "I can be…rather forgetful about these things." Monet appeared a little shocked by the strange offering, but held her own, keeping her eyes off the crumbled treat locked into his tight grasp.

"I'll leave you two alone," he said. He looked to Vergo and added, "Call me when things have been finalized."

"Of course," Vergo answered.

Doflamingo walked away from the café, feeling well about the brief conversation he had with the girl. She seemed almost too perfect for the job, yet she didn't come off as particularity false. If Vergo liked her then he would have a new underling under his control, and his small empire would hopefully grow for the better.

Once in the busier side of town Doflamingo pulled out his phone and went through his contacts. Sadly, even with the potential good news, his work was never done, and Caesar had called throughout the week informing him of his disappointment in downsizing the drug trade. Doflamingo managed to ignore the first few calls without much problem, but then he had heard the last message where Caesar had reported a new breakthrough in the purity rate of their product, nearly seventy-two percent.

That was good enough to sell abroad.

If Caesar could do that with cocaine, then he could certainly do that with harder drugs. Doflamingo normally wouldn't care for such a trade, but at such a high pure percentage, it would be foolish of him to not allow Caesar the money and time needed to bring up the production and further the purity to outsource his product. It would mean putting the slave trade on the backburner for a while, but it allow Doflamingo time to make even more money. The business would have cost quite a bit to start, so giving Caesar this opportunity would only benefit him in the long run. Of course, producing heroin brought an assortment of new issues for him to deal with. Once Violet was finished selling her share she would be all but useless, and Doflamingo couldn't have her running around with all that she knew. And having only Vergo sell wouldn't help raise profits, so this meant he would need to hire more heads to help sell his produce.

"Ceasar," Doflamingo said into his phone. "Is the final batch finished?"

"Yes, just barely," Ceasar voice echoed in his ear. "You'll be able to hand it in to Vergo and Violet shortly." Doflamingo could hear his voice shake with excitement, and he knew it wasn't the cocaine that was making him act this way.

"Excellent," he muttered. He paused a moment, listening to Caesar's rapid breathing, waiting for him to ask about the first batch of their product. He moved his phone a few inches away from his ear, anticipating that annoying, shrill laugh once he did choose to ask Caesar about the batch.

"Is it ready for testing?" Doflamingo asked.

"Testing? Shu-rororo! You're joking right?" Caesar asked. "This stuff is quite the product. You wont be disappointed!"

"I don't ever joke about these things," Doflamingo said in a threatening tone. A few people he passed turned their heads as he let a deep frown grow on his face. "I know you're excited about this, but we cannot let anything through unless it meets my standards! When I get over there nothing better be packaged. I see anything ready to be distributed without my consent and I'll flush it all down your toilet."

He continued walking in no particular direction, listening to Caesars whimpers though the other line. He felt himself smirk as he heard Caesar speak again, this time in a more humbled tone.

"Of course," Caesar said. "I'll have some placed out for you too look at."

"I want nothing in packages." Doflamingo warned.

"Y-you won't."

"Good, I'll see you in about an hour," Doflamingo said in a cheerier voice. He closed his phone and hung up the call.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and then noticed that his sunglasses had slipped sometime during his walk. Without a though he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose, smiled, and turned back to the direction of the coffee house, confident that Monet had proven herself to Vergo.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Please sent any comments or critique with a review! :)