A/N: Hey y'all! Once again I'm cross-posting on Ao3. For this one I'll be following the Funimation English dub and mostly keeping to the timeline, but I'll be adding original arcs as well!

Disclaimer: I don't own this.

It was past midnight.

Toscano Harley leaned back on her heels as she glanced out over the adobe buildings, grayed in the moonlight. The alleys between them were narrow and steeped in shadow, and although Harley had been informed of the party ruse the other Baroque Works agents had put on, it was still jolting to hear abrupt, boisterous voices or see agents appearing from nowhere, pretending to stumble their drunk way home. Harley was sure the atmosphere, with the addition of the enormous yellow half-moon overhead and Whiskey Peak's typical stale and dusty smell, contributed to her distinct unease.

Harley fidgeted with the bandages wrapped around her right wrist, clipped together at the palm, and after a second she glanced down to ensure they weren't wet with ink. She'd had the power of the Ink Ink Fruit for a year and still couldn't control it—not that she was much better with hand-to-hand, but she was at least passable. She was sure she was best at mid-range.

She shifted her weight and felt the sheath of one of her throwing knives strapped to her thigh. For at least a day she'd been worried about her employer, the Crown Princess of Alabasta, who had been out on a mission for a week and had yet to return. Harley's gaze flickered over the buildings and veritable canyons between them but she glimpsed no pale blue hair.

Harley released a breath and rose. With no other options she decided she could at least return to the only other agent who was aware of the princess's identity to check in. Over the past few days Harley had seen flashes of newspaper articles about Alabasta and the oncoming revolution simmering there, and the information had to be even more alarming to both the other agent and the princess than it was to Harley.

She took the outdoor stairs down from the roof she'd been loitering on to the skinny dirt street below. She rolled her shoulders back and strode ahead, glancing up and down the alleys she passed, now in search of telltale blond curls. The night air was warm and almost sticky, and Harley took a second to sweep her wavy dark hair back into a messy bun with the peach-colored hair scarf she always kept on her wrist.

As she continued, however, beneath open arched windows and square adobe buildings, the moon luminescent overhead, Harley felt her muscles tense. She slowed and was considering returning to her own building, the one she shared with a couple of irritating Baroque Works agents, when she saw a flash of pale blue.

Harley grinned to herself and jogged down the nearest street to emerge into the clearing where her employer, Princess Nefertari Vivi, had appeared. She was standing around with her partner, Mr. 9, as well as Igaram, Alabasta's Captain of the Guard and the blond Harley had briefly been looking for. "Hey!" Harley called as she approached, more spring in her step. "Where the hell have you two been?"

At least Vivi seemed no worse for the wear—that blue hair was in a high ponytail and she was sporting her typical Miss Wednesday outfit. The moonlight washed her out a little, making her paler than usual, but she only seemed tired and not injured. "Oh, relax, Miss Mother's Day," said Vivi in her affected Miss Wednesday voice, tossing her ponytail. "We've been back for a few hours."

Harley rolled her eyes and Mr. 9 huffed on his nails. "And I know you haven't been doing anything useful with your time around here, Miss Mother's Day. Or was it someone else I heard skipped the party?"

"Oh, like you didn't?" said Harley.

A door creaked open behind them and all four turned—Miss Monday, outfitted in a nun costume, had emerged from the nearest building. She swung the door shut behind her and swept off her costume as she joined the group on the ground. "Damn, my head is killing me," she complained. "Our guests didn't have the good taste to pass out gracefully, so I had to doctor their drinks a little. Otherwise they'd still be up drinking us all into oblivion."

Harley gave a startled laugh. "I'm impressed."

"Not by them, I hope," snapped Miss Monday. Harley lifted her bandaged hands to feign sarcastic surrender and Miss Monday rounded on Igaram, who had been observing impassively. "Was it really necessary to put on an elaborate show for these idiots? I get that nobody wants to hear me whine, but it's my duty to point out the amount of food we wasted when we could've just ambushed them at the harbor! We're already short on supplies. It's not like anyone had high hopes for that whale meat."

Vivi and Mr. 9, who had been out on a mission to kill and bring back a specific whale, pouted at Miss Monday. "Well!" cried Mr. 9. "Why don't you go and try to kill that damn whale! We did our best, you know."

"Both of you calm yourselves," interrupted Igaram. He was the tallest of the group, his shadow eclipsing all of theirs, and he was tan, with long blond curls shaped like rollers and circles under his eyes that gave him an air of just having woken at all times. "Before any of you question the validity of my plan, you should see this."

He withdrew a crumpled bounty poster from within his navy blazer with a flourish, and each agent leaned in to read it. That's actually interesting, Harley thought with a hint of trepidation, and she withdrew her closest knife to keep it in hand. "What?!" cried Miss Monday, Vivi, and Mr. 9 at the same time. "Thirty million berries?"

For one scrawny kid, Harley observed. The bounty poster depicted a teenager with a bright smile and a straw hat, black hair peeking out from under all sides.

"You mean for those morons?" yelped Mr. 9.

"Don't be foolish," said Igaram, stowing the bounty poster in his coat. "Appearances can be deceiving. That goes for—" Igaram coughed and then warbled a few musical notes as if to reassure himself his voice remained. "That goes for all of you."

Miss Monday rubbed her short pink hair sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"No matter," said Igaram. "Our prey has been trapped. And that's news the boss will enjoy. For now, we'll confiscate everything of value from their ship."

"So what do we do with them?" asked Miss Monday.

"Kill them?" asked Mr. 9.

"If they die, the bounty drops 30%," said Igaram. "The government prefers to hold public executions." He turned aside, potentially for dramatic effect—and although Harley was amused, she realized her unease had worsened. The little hairs on the back of her neck were standing up and she gave the nearest alleys a quick glance to ensure no one was lurking in them. "Now go," ordered Igaram. "I want them alive!"

Harley turned to face the building Miss Monday had appeared from, as that must have been where the party was held—and she saw an unfamiliar figure perched on the edge of the roof, silhouetted by the moon. Aside from the curve of a sword Harley could make out nothing else. "Hey," called the figure in a deep voice. "Sorry to interrupt, but do you mind letting my friends sleep? They've had a long day and the journey was exhausting. Or so I've been told."

She heard footsteps around them—and approaching agents gasped as they caught sight of the pirate on the roof. Harley tightened her grip on her knife and waited, already on the balls of her feet. She could feel the bandages around her palms dampening with ink, and the back door to that same building creaked open. Two agents appeared, one shouting, "Hey, Mr. 8, Miss Monday! One of them escaped from the room when we weren't looking!"

Vivi sighed. "He's right over there."

"Sneaky wretch," Igaram almost spat. A few more agents who must have heard the voices or seen the pirate jogged into the clearing. "You should've stayed asleep with your friends!"

"A good swordsman never makes the mistake of letting his guard down," said the pirate, who, although Harley couldn't see his face, sounded like he was grinning. "Plus I took a nap earlier." He stood. "Judging by the scowls and cheap disguises, I'm guessing you're all bounty hunters. Your specialty is robbing drunk pirates who fall for your hospitality. It's original; I'll give you that at least."

The pirate lowered his sword, holding it out and level beside him. "I count a hundred of you scumbags, give or take. And I'll fight all of you. You hear me? Baroque Works?"

No one outside the organization was meant to know its name—Harley could feel that instinctive fight-or-flight setting in, heartbeat quickening, and she stepped closer to Vivi. Harley needed to defend her at any cost. "How do you know our name?!" demanded Igaram as the other agents in the clearing yelped or shrieked in surprise.

Obviously he did his homework, thought Harley, fidgeting with her knife. She watched as the pirate continued to monologue for a second, wondering if she should snag Vivi and convince her to take a ship out from the harbor. The pirate having a verbal pissing contest with Igaram was certainly providing them with enough time.

As Harley reached for Vivi's arm, however, to capture her attention, the pirate outright vanished, dropping out of sight. "He—disappeared," said Vivi, startled, and Harley checked the nearest alleys again. She doubted he'd taken off after such a melodramatic introduction—he was probably coming through one of the alleys to the clearing.

"He's gone!" observed another agent as Harley kept looking, increasingly irritated.

"Argh—what?!" demanded Igaram. "But how the hell could he just disappear?!"

"I think you may have bitten off more than we could chew after all, Mr. 8," said Harley sharply.

There were more gasps from nearby. Harley whirled—the pirate stood not far from her, in the shadowed crowd of agents, gazing up at the roof as if in search for himself. Harley could see a sharp jawline and deep-set, angular eyes, and she noticed three swords at his haramaki. "Who do you think you are?!" shouted Igaram as a variety of agents lifted their rifles. "Fire!"

Shit—the pirate was gone but the bullets still flashed through the air, and Harley shoved Vivi into Mr. 9. All three of them just managed to avoid being struck, but when Harley turned to check, the other agents had taken each other out. "Incompetent morons," Igaram observed. "They just shot each other!"

"Yeah, the pirate got away," whined Mr. 9 as he shoved Vivi upright and brushed off the sleeves of his dark green blazer.

Igaram gave a shriek of irritation. "Just kill him!" he shouted. "He's only one man!"

An instant later Harley pushed in front of Vivi—because behind Igaram, holding a sword to his curls, there stood the pirate. His expression was remarkably smug and he had apple-green hair, and although Harley's heart was racing and she was mentally trying to determine how best to escape the island, she managed to notice the pirate was stupidly hot. Stop it, priorities, Harl— "Ask yourself," said the pirate in that low voice. "Will one gravestone really be enough?"

Harley lifted her hand in preparation to throw her knife, but the pirate darted out of sight again, melting back into the nearest shadows. Igaram whipped out his saxophone to release a wave of bullets and only managed to eliminate more Baroque Works agents.

Igaram lowered his saxophone and whirled, sweat visible on his forehead and his eyes a little wild. His voice was starting to frenzy at the edges when he shouted, "All right, you idiots! Where did he escape to this time?!"

Mr. 9 glanced toward Vivi and Harley, eyes wide. "It seems as though this guy might actually be able to put up a fight," he observed, and around them agents took off into the alleys, presumably searching for the pirate. "Even against us!"

Igaram growled and Harley saw him curl one hand into a tight, angry fist. "Can he possibly be so arrogantly stupid that he thinks he can fight all of us by himself?!" he demanded. Harley saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and rather than the pirate found her annoying partner, Mr. 6, trotting down the outdoor steps of another nearby building. "What kind of a man would even consider challenging us, after knowing that we're all with Baroque Works?"

"Who the hell cares?" Harley snapped, because none of this chatter was helping anyone. "We can discuss his motivations after we take him out!"

"A breath of fresh air as always, Miss Mother's Day," said Mr. 9, and Harley cut him with a glance.

Mr. 6 reached the clearing they still stood in and gave a theatrical sigh as he loped into the moonlight. "I see we've lost one of the pirates." He pulled his long black hair into its usual low ponytail. "Did any of you see where the bastard went?"

"No," retorted Igaram.

Harley glanced back at Vivi. "We should—"

A series of tangled crashes and yelps echoed from somewhere past the building where the party had been held, indicating the pirate had been found. "Split!" ordered Igaram—Harley managed to exchange an instant of a look with Vivi before each sprinted in separate directions, to zigzag into alleys and approach the cacophony from multiple angles.

Harley had a tight grip on her knife when she skidded to a stop between two buildings—she could hear the distinct clashing of metal from overhead somewhere. She turned on the heel of her high-top and took the nearest set of outdoor steps two at a time. When she reached the roof she lifted her knife in preparation to cut the already squelchy bandages from her right hand.

At first glance no one seemed to be there—but there was a cloud of dust and sand across from the steps and an awful scream. As the dust dissipated Harley saw the pirate standing over Miss Monday, letting her crash unconscious to the rooftop—

Harley twirled her knife in her hand and hurled it but the pirate ducked aside. She withdrew another from the two-sided holster in her denim jacket and threw it at a different angle but it missed, too. She caught a glint of light from one of the pirate's swords as he swung low and she jumped up—a swash of air passed beneath her high-tops and as quickly as she could she ripped another knife from the holster to try that one, but the pirate was too fucking fast—

Shit, she had no other options—Harley continued to weave away from the pirate's long-range attacks as she cut apart the sopping wet bandages around her right palm. Then she lifted that hand and held it out, streaming shiny black ink all over the flat rooftop.

"What the hell is that?" the pirate asked, bewildered. "Squid ink—?"

He lost balance with one boot, giving a surprised yelp as he slipped in the ink—Harley fought another knife out from within her denim jacket and used her still-bandaged hand to hurl it at the pirate, but he scrambled backward and it slammed into the roof. She huffed in irritation as more ink sputtered from her hand and because she was just fucking guessing at this point, she used her teeth to tear the bandage from her other palm as well. In a second she had a jet-stream of ink directed at the pirate as he clambered back to his feet—

This resulted in such confusion that Harley, operating on instinct, could barely even follow what was going on—the pirate tried to slice at the ink and Harley tried to approach him but kept having to dodge his continued attacks and soon the roof was smothered in ink, and with another burst of it Harley managed to lunge and outright tackle the pirate—

Both of them struggled with each other for an extended second, splattering themselves in ink, but the pirate pinned her hips with his and leaned over to hold his sword to her throat. Harley stopped, breathing hard, as the pirate braced one hand against the inky rooftop. She noted somewhat wildly that at least she'd managed to half-slather him in ink. "Nice try," said the pirate. Ink was dripping from his jaw and he rubbed at it with his shoulder.

Harley released a breath. She had to get out of there, she had to find Vivi and convince her to escape the island. But the thought of Vivi, and the hot dude's proximity, had her blurting, "Just—do me a favor and don't kill the girl with the blue hair."

The pirate scoffed. "Like you're in a position to be asking for favors."

"Oh, I see," said Harley, and she couldn't resist moving around a little. "You must want me in a different position."

The pirate was unaffected. "I think you're underestimating your situation here."

"You don't think this is kind of hot?"

"Is flirting really your go-to move?" demanded the pirate.

Harley flashed a smile at him. "Sorry, handsome. You're not ready for my go-to move." With that she just managed to turn one palm over and sprayed him in ink and she threw him off, knocking the sword away from her throat—Harley scrambled upright and with no hesitation whirled to sprint for the end of the roof. Her high-tops slid a little in the ink and she nearly fell but she made it to her destination, where she swung over the edge—

She landed hard on the outdoor stairs, and although an ensuing pain cut up through her joints, Harley hurried down to the dusty street. She ran across it to a narrow alley, where she skidded into the shadows and leaned back against an adobe building, heart still racing and breathing still ragged.

Her first priority was to stop the ink from welling in her palms. Harley drew in a breath and closed her eyes, attempting to clear her mind. She had to focus on the smell of the dust motes and night air; at last she felt the ink slow and then stop altogether. When she was certain she had it under control, Harley opened her eyes and wiped her palms off on her already ruined denim shorts. Then she tugged her sling bag around to rifle out another roll of bandages and a couple of clips.

With practiced ease Harley wrapped bandages around her hands and clipped them together. When that was done, she let herself return her attention to the environment outside this alley—she could still hear commotion from a near distance. Harley guessed Vivi was closer to it rather than further, and she needed to locate the princess to ensure her safety.

Harley slipped back out of the alley and followed her ears to the source of the noise, keeping to the shadows from the square buildings. She rounded one corner and found Mr. 9 tumbling out of the dark sky, metal bats waving wildly—she flinched as he crashed into a wooden crate. An instant after him came Mr. 6, who hit the street with a concerning thud that sent up a puff of dust.

Fucking yikes, thought Harley. She waited another second before approaching both of them, doing her utmost to keep her footsteps quiet. She kneeled beside Mr. 6 to press two fingers to his neck and ensure he still had a pulse. He was more often a total jackass than not, but he was her partner, and they'd spent a lot of time out on missions together.

He was still alive. Good—

Something smashed into her.

Harley was briefly given the impression she was being smothered by feathers as her head cracked against the ground. She had to remain there for a few seconds, winded, as none other than Vivi's enormous pet duck Karoo scrabbled away from her with a panicked quack. "Dude," snapped Harley, and she flailed upright. Vivi was sitting a few feet away, the remains of another few crates scattered around her. She didn't look injured, at most bewildered. "What the hell was that?!"

"Oh—Harley!" gasped Vivi as she found Harley. She leapt to her feet and took the few steps over to hold one hand out. "That was so stupid—here—"

Harley took Vivi's slender hand and allowed the princess to help her back to her feet. Although her head was throbbing from where she'd hit it, Harley tried to ignore it as she released Vivi's hand. "Look, this pirate is way too good," she said. "None of us can beat him. We need to get out of—"

"Wait!" interrupted Vivi. She turned to glance around the nearest adobe buildings. "I have an idea to outsmart him. Stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Vi—" Harley started, but Vivi had already run down another alley. Karoo hurried after her, wings outspread. Harley took a step after both of them but paused when the world swayed. She rubbed the back of her throbbing head and hoped there wouldn't be a massive bump there tomorrow—if we live to see tomorrow, ugh.

Mr. 9 shot upright, throwing broken wood aside and making Harley jump. "Let's see how he likes this, baby!" he barked to himself, and he was gone, running madly down another alley. Harley briefly closed her eyes, trying to force her vision to stop tilting, and realized she could hear familiar voices. She couldn't make out what was being said, but Vivi and Igaram had to have been talking to the pirate. Fuck, thought Harley, and she flicked her eyes open. Although she was still a little unbalanced, she sprinted after Vivi and toward the voices, almost wiping out a couple of times.

She heard a round of gunfire—then there was an abrupt, awful silence.

Harley had to check a few different streets before she found a wide one where Vivi, Karoo, Mr. 9, and Igaram were all sprawled on the ground. The pirate was nowhere to be seen and all four were conscious, though Igaram certainly did not seem to be in the best shape. Harley jogged over. "Are we all okay?" Harley asked as she did, and she automatically grasped Vivi's arm to help her up.

"I—think so?" said Vivi uncertainly.

Harley heard movement from behind her and turned. Rather than the pirate, however, there were two numbered Baroque Works agents—Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine. "The four of you lost against a single pirate?" observed Mr. 5 in that slow, baritone voice of his. "Now that's just sad."

"Mr. 5!" gasped Igaram upon sighting the pair. "Miss Valentine!"

"Really," said Mr. 5 with a shake of his head. Although he wore sunglasses and his expression was unreadable, from the slouch of his broad shoulders and the way he had shoved his hands into the pockets of his maroon trench coat, he seemed remarkably disinterested. "Can't do your jobs. Hmph."

Miss Valentine was far more emotive in that she seemed positively gleeful—additionally she wore a bright, lemon-patterned dress and twirled a matching parasol over one shoulder. "Well, that's clearly the difference between our rank and yours!"

"Are you gonna help us find him?" demanded Harley.

"Or did you come here just to laugh at us?" spat Igaram from where he still lay in the dirt.

"Nah, that's a bonus," said Mr. 5. "We're not here to clean up your mess."

Then why the hell are they—oh, shit. Harley's blood ran cold as Miss Valentine cackled. "You really think that we'd come all the way to the end of the Grand Line to hold your hands? Oh, you're even more pitiful than you look!"

Harley glanced back to find Vivi and stepped over to ensure the princess was still behind her. As Mr. 9 questioned the numbered agents, Harley dug one of her remaining knives out of her shoulder holster. She could feel ink starting to well in the lines of her palms and her heartbeat was speeding up again.

"Someone learned his secrets," Mr. 5 was saying when Harley resumed listening. "Knowing them is against company rules; our motto is mystery. Everyone's identity is kept strictly secret no matter who they are. And if someone's dumb enough to nose around in the boss's business, well then…that's a crime punishable by death."

There was no way Harley was going to let Vivi die at the hands of these two jackasses. As the conversation continued around her, as Miss Valentine and Mr. 5 explained that they had been sent for the agents from Alabasta, Harley tried to calculate an attack. She was a rank behind these two, though, and that was for a reason— Stop it, I just need to buy Vivi enough time to get the hell out of here!

With that in mind Harley, paying no attention whatsoever to the conversation, spun her knife in her hand and hurled it at Miss Valentine—and Igaram staggered upright to send a few rounds of bullets toward the numbered agents—but of course that meant the entire alley flooded with smoke and Harley couldn't even decide what the hell to do next. "You will not lay a hand upon our princess!" Igaram yelled. "Not while the Captain of Alabasta's Guard still stands!"

"Igaram!" shouted Vivi.

The smoke cleared in the stale evening wind. Neither Miss Valentine nor Mr. 5 had moved an inch.

"Oh, this is not ending well," mumbled Harley.

"Igaram," said Mr. 5 with resonating authority, "Captain of Alabasta's Guard; Toscano Harley, lady's maid; and Princess Nefertari Vivi of Alabasta Kingdom, we have come here in the name of the boss of Baroque Works to see that you are all eliminated."

That was it. Harley looked back long enough to shove Vivi's shoulder. "Run!" she ordered, and Igaram resumed firing at the numbered agents. "Try the shore!"

With that Harley gritted her teeth and turned back around—but it was then that bright light exploded through the alley, and for a disorienting instant she was airborne—and everything turned black.