A/N: 675 words; no warning on this go around; this might end up becoming something bigger, might not, idk yet; I wrote this after having a bunch of leftover fancy catering appetizers it is destiny; takes place before the Hearts get to the Grand Line, so figure that what you will for timeline purposes

Day Five: Clione - Food

His bowtie was tight and his clothes restricting as Clione attempted to adjust himself into something resembling comfortable. He didn't like this undercover bullshit—coveralls being too comfy made nearly everything else down-right constrictive in comparison.

"Don't untuck that shirt or I will have your head," Ikkaku warned. She was finishing helping Uni with his cufflinks as the trio stayed hidden in a disused side-corridor of the banquet hall. All three were dressed in waitstaff uniforms, having drawn the straws that put them in that particular role.

"It can't be that serious," Clione grumbled. "You didn't even straighten your hair."

"We don't have two extra hours for me to do it the right way, numbskull," Ikkaku reminded him. It was true though—her wildly curly hair was now contained in a singular chunky plait down her back, looking as though it was begging for the sweet release of the hair tie snapping. "Just follow the plan and we can get back to normal."

Clione and Uni both passed one another glances of despair while Ikkaku finished up the finishing touches on Uni's uniform. Once they were all set, they put their right hands together before breaking off to their separate positions. Uni went towards the bar to snatch a tray of drinks, Ikkaku grabbed napkins and an ashtray, while Clione went towards the appetizers.

Oh, wow… he knew they were going to be at a super-high-class party, but he didn't realize it'd be this swanky. The tiny appetizers were like works of art, with pates and carefully-carved veggies and delicate plating that was expertly applied. It was going to take a lot for him to not steal a tray and hoark them all down himself…

No, focus! Focus! Clione instead wandered around the hall packed with guests, offering the wee nibbles to varying people as he passed. As he did, he tried to catch conversation to figure out who was their target and who was just some other obnoxious rich person hobnobbing amongst the North's wealthy and powerful…

After a couple rounds of the hall and fetching another tray, a familiar face appeared. The Captain looked so different in his disguise as a socialite, Penguin and Shachi flanking him as his "personal security detail". Many of the whispers were about him—who was that tall, dark, handsome man? Was he unattached? What or whom did he represent? Every time Clione heard a new theory, it was all he could do to not burst into laughter.

He knew why they were there, doing such a deep cover into such an elaborate society mixer. They all knew why when instead of finishing off their journey to Reverse Mountain and the Grand Line, they were bothering with a bunch of idiots and their personal security details and the varied lower-ranking Marines who were flitting about in a show instead of doing their jobs. There was only one reason as to why the Captain would draw attention to himself by covering his tattoos and acting so mysterious and aloof it pulled the attention of everyone in the room.

The esteemed host of the party was Flevench royalty.

"Would the good sir care for a bite?" Clione asked, approaching the Captain with the same neutral expression he wore for all the guests. The Captain stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly, before taking a dressed egg half. "What an excellent choice; taste of nobility."

"You don't say," was the flat reply. "Anyone here with kingly tastes?"

"No, but princely for certain. I believe the gentleman in green velveteen would agree." Clione watched the Captain as his eyes quickly scanned the crowd and found the mark, Penguin and Shachi both giving him a nod as they followed.

Well… at least Clione waited until he was out of sight and the Captain was torturing his former prince before he began to shovel appetizers into his mouth. It was his contact who got them into the place, after all, and he was going to make sure they got all it was worth.