A.N:

This chapter probably gave me more trouble to write than any have in the past year. I only finished this one a few hours before it was posted, which is out of character for me. I finished it on time, so I'm still proud of it and enjoy introducing this new character. I hope you enjoy meeting this fence.

The island of Galdea is a place of neat, coastal cities and white stone, elaborate iron railings, and balconies littered with potted plants. There are gold mines further in at the base of the mountains and the city has a natural gradient between the wealthy districts and the poor. Some people are stragglers who hope to get rich in the mines- some staying lifetimes, others leaving after a few years, either because they got what they came for or they've given up on looking.

In the center of the city, in a location well suited for both sides of the city, is an appraisal office where a certain agent resides. It, like the buildings around it, has whitewashed stone walls and a blue tiled roof. Inside, on the third floor of the business, sits a private office that has a balcony overlooking the ocean. From the twin French doors, the sun can be seen rising from the water towards its noon zenith.

Inside, there are plush armchairs with low backs, simple but luxurious in design. The wooden items, the neatly organized desk, a few small tables and chairs, and tall bookshelves, are all stained darkly and glossed to a pristine shine. The fabrics are all pastel yellows, cremes, and greens, giving the room a homely quality. All the books and are leatherbound and, like the furniture, are imprinted with gold leaf.

Karmen lounges sideways in one of the cushy yellow armchairs, flipping her quill like a knife thrower looking for a target. It's clear she's been there for a while. Pierce rests to one side of her knees, still, but on high alert.

Her dark mood had settled over her on their trip to the island. He could tell that she was itching to get back to Batoidea and back to work, and part of her is sure this new fence wouldn't show any promise either. He hadn't asked though he silently worried that it may hinder any deals this man would be willing to make.

She'd decided to make herself comfortable rather than go through her usual disappearing routine. Quite frankly, after the first two, she's growing rather bored with approaching the fence directly, not that she isn't just as bored now that she decided to let him come to her.

She can sense him long before she hears his shoes on the stairs. He walks steadily, not rushed. From his posture and the slight smile she can sense on his face, she feels he's a man who doesn't do anything quickly. The office around her suggests that he's the kind of man who knows exactly what he likes and wants out of life. To her, it all comes off as a front- one that runs deeper than just his cover for black-market brokering.

The door behind them opens and there is a startled pause before Karmen's haki tracks the man's eyes as they focus on her boots poking out from behind the back of the chair, and then across to where her curls drape over the arm as they peek out from beneath Pierce's tricorn hat.

The pause lasts for only a moment as he straightens his cufflinks and his collar and moves further into the room for a better look. As he subtly eyes her, she crosses her legs at the ankle and sits up, shifting Pierce back to her shoulders and lightly dropping his hat back onto his head.

He is a tall man with dark skin, a little lighter than Camilla's. He has a short, well-kept beard that frames his jawline and curls around his mouth and chin. His hair flows in sumptuous locks that are swept to the side of his thin, trimmed eyebrows. His eyes are a copper color that pairs well with his expensive cream-colored suit.

Karmen meets his gaze with a neutral expression, clearly not expecting anything from this man one way or another. It gives her a predatory edge to her demeanor and a faint coldness to her eye.

Instead of moving around his desk to sit or leaning against it in a casual, businesslike manner, he takes the hand not holding a weapon and brings it to his lips. Karmen rises on instinct as he delicately kisses her knuckles in greeting.

"Rioux Fabien, I trust?" Karmen asks. "My name is Ghost. I was told that you may be able to assist me."

"That is me, cher, and might I say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I would remember making an appointment with such a fine woman as yourself. Tell me. What good deed did I do to have an angel like you grace my humble establishment?" He speaks in a heavily Creole accent, with punctuated syllables with long "O" sounds and deep "L's". His words flow out in an elegant drawl and a jaunty tone that makes Karmen instantly dislike the man.

Pierce's claws tighten on Karmen's shoulders, more of a reminder for her to at least stay and try to negotiate a deal before deciding to stab him on principle. She pinches her lips together. "I see why Law put you at the end of the list," she mutters. "Turn down the charm, dearie. It doesn't suit you."

Fabien grins broadly. "Now how can I not try to charm a beauty such as yourself when you tell me you're the friend of a friend," he says, leaning in. "How is ol' Trafalgar Law doing these days, gorgeous?"

Karmen gives him a sweet smile and pulls him closer by the collar of his jacket. "Let me rephrase, Angel. Cut the charm or I'm liable to cut you."

His grin only widens. "Now would you go sticking your last option, sweet pea?"

"I said you were last on the list he gave me, not that I was out of options." She releases him with a push, but keeps her motions gentle.

If anything, her aggression only makes him more interested, like a cat eying a blade-wielding mouse. Still, he raises his hands in a relenting motion and steps back, waving at the chairs and a card table to the side. "Take a load off, my dark Ange. Take a load off, play some bourré."

"I'd prefer to dance a bourrée, but if it's all the same to you I'd like to skip the kiss and hello and get straight to business," she responds, noting his delight that she knows the clog dance. "I've something to sell and I hear you may be the man to buy."

He straightens his collar and raises an eyebrow. "Feisty and resourceful," he comments. "Aren't you just a flower in a ray of sunshine."

Karmen's fingers tighten on her quill. "Don't do it," Pierce whispers in her ear. "Get the money first." She gives a discreet but relenting sigh.

"If you have the wares, I'd be happy to take a gander," Mr. Rioux continues, completely missing the exchange.

Karmen eyes him for a moment, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace. She gives him a little credit for not fainting right off when she hands it to him. He pulls out a monocle and sets it to his eye as he inspects the chain of large purple gemstones, diamond cut by diamond cut. The smile slowly drains from his face, causing one to form on Karmen's. "Now where did a sweet wisp of a thing like yourself come across something like this?" he asks.

She smiles sweetly at him. "I happened to be picking up a friend in the area and it seemed a waste to leave it where it was."

"Do you realize how dangerous taking, much less carrying an item like this can be?" he asks.

"It can't be any less dangerous than what I did to retrieve my friend, yet here I am," she says nonchalantly, twirling the metal quill slowly in her hand. "I have my ways of staying hidden and my reasons for doing what I did, but none of that is important to this transaction." She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Are we making a transaction?"

"And what of the original owner?" he asks. "What protection do I have against them?"

Karmen shrugs. "Whatever you create for yourself, outside of what I've already done," she says in the same tone. "But if you leak information about me to her or her ex-husband, I can assure that you will be haunted until the day you die."

This time it's his eyebrow that rises. "Now, Ange, how do you know a thing like that divorce?" he asks. "It wasn't made public knowledge."

She gives a dark grin. "I have a picture of him signing the papers with his teeth. It's hanging on my bedroom wall." Her face glows with satisfaction. "It was a gift from a friend."

"What kind of friends do you have?" he asks.

"The kind that give me names like yours." She sits back down and leans forward on her knees, giving Pierce ample room to spread his wings if he needs to. "But if you don't want to deal, I can find someone who will." She holds her hand out for the necklace, offering him a clean cut from her and her dangerous wares.

He considers her for a moment, then rubs his chin and inspects the necklace again. "I won't ask any more questions about your acquisition methods and your actions are safe with me, cher, but I do worry about how an ange like yourself got mixed up into all this."

"It's something I'm very used to, I assure you," she says, lowering her hand. "I just turned the tables and am doing what I want for a change."

"And if I asked you what you were going to do with the pretty penny a piece like this would fetch, you wouldn't be so inclined to tell me, would you, cher?" he asks, obviously not expecting her to answer his question. He holds up the necklace as if to see what it would look like on her. "I'm not saying you should keep this particular piece, but you would look dazzling in jewels. I could sell some to you at a discount if you'd like."

She gives him a mirthless smile. "I'm not keeping the money."

His eyebrow climbs higher. "You're working for someone, then? What are they going to do with the money? Buy a small country?"

Karmen considers it for a moment, then shakes her head. "Kudra knows we would end up like Linlin somewhere down the line. It's better dispersed among the patients."

"Patients?" he asks. His tone suggests mere polite curiosity, but the glint in his eyes tells of a hunger for information. Pierce's claws tighten slightly as he catches it as well.

"Yes," Karmen responds, slipping into her emotionless state. "We aren't keeping a penny of it for ourselves. We don't need it." Her eyes fall to the necklace and her nose curls with slight distaste. "Or jewels."

He regards her for a moment, and then a large grin spreads across his face. "Ange, is there any way I could get you and that fiery glare to work for me?"

"Not on your afterlife," she mutters.

He gives a mockingly regretful sigh. "I suppose I'll just have to shower you with other shiny things until I can turn the shell of your ear in my humble direction," he says.

This time Karmen does give him some consideration. "You still want to make a deal?"

He regards her in turn, satisfaction in his eyes. "Do you?"

She pauses for a moment as she thinks on it. "I should warn you before you go making any offers," she says, tone suggesting that she expects to be turned down. "The last person to trade anything once belonging to this family- a fence named Castellanos Lexus- was assassinated. Either the Navy can't or isn't willing to trace the hit back to Gallowcomb, but my people have. I don't know if the Davenwells will take similar action, but if they catch their family heirloom on the market it'll be trouble."

He considers this information for a long moment, watching her unblinking while he does. Finally he taps his lips and says, "I'll do business on one condition."

Karmen sits up slightly, surprise flashing in her eyes for a fraction of a second, quickly followed by suspicion. "And what condition is that?"

He gives her his most charming grin. "I get to see your beautiful face the next time you come across another lucrative item such as this." He picks up a pen and scratches a large number onto a small piece of paper, leaning forward as he hands it to her. "Do we have a deal?"

Karmen eyes the paper and gives him a questioning look. "This is less than the necklace is worth," she observes.

"I need to instill some insurance to make sure I don't go down a similar path as our dear late friend Castellanos," he says. "Making your own protection costs money. Still, the cut I'm taking leaves you with a fair and ample reward for your hard work and… patients, yes?" He eyes her like a crossroads demon who's about to seal a bargain. "But since you were kind enough to warn me, even at the possible expense of our deal, I'll give you a lagniappe- as an… investment for future engagements." He steps behind his desk and pulls out a leather-bound folder tied with a cord. "This here, ange, is my personal compilation of Marine dead zones from one Red Line to the other. A delicate flower such as yourself may just find it useful."

Karmen takes the folder and thumbs through it, giving a nod of satisfaction. "I accept if you do," she says, slipping the necklace back into her pocket. "I know it will take you a while to compile the gold, so I will meet you at the Eastern shore in two days. We'll make the exchange then."

He flashes her a sly grin. "I don't suppose there's any way I could talk you into a game of cards or maybe a nice dinner to pass the time in between?"

Karmen gives a soft snort, but the aggression has mostly left her tone. "I'm afraid I have other business to attend to, but if you don't double cross me and tone down that charm, you may have another chance to make me not want to stab you."

He grins and extends a hand. "Laissez le bons temps rouler."

"Let the good times roll," she repeats.