More than 6 months after the incident...

Indigo Westlake would have made a brilliant master thief if she had been raised to be criminally inclined. However, while her family were in many ways just as eccentric as the villains that had crossed her during her bellicose philanthropies in the arts, she had always thought herself above stealing, no matter how ingeniously the theft was executed. Given her stanch values against the matter, it pained her to finder herself canvassing the Royal Museum during the exclusive preview of the Legacy exhibition, a collection of war instruments through the ages. While the most expensive item on display was no doubt the Westlake Family Trust's own Sword of Ice and Shadow, the talk of the evening was the fraternal jewels of Godfrey de Saint-Omer, or rather, what was rumoured to happen to them by the end of the exhibition.

It could have all been a hoax, a publicity stunt to draw attention to the jewels before they went to auction at the end of the week, but Indigo's gut told her otherwise. Even if she didn't have a natural sense for these things, even if her instincts were not honed razor sharp by her dedication to protecting the collectable arts, she could not ignore a notice from the B-Team. Obscure, obnoxious little thieves were always trying to make a name for themselves by declaring their marks. The pubic knew B-Team to be one such start up, but Indigo knew better than to underestimate them. Their well executed slap to her pride still strung, though the injury was more than six months old. It was an insult she bore in private. A burden she carried alone. Other than coding it in the ledger for the next family trust manager, she had told no one about the theft of the Crown of Alice; she certainly wasn't in the business of making master thieves famous. Strangely, the B-Team hadn't bragged about their loot either, but even if they had, Indigo had a flawless replica ready for examination.

A quick glance at the jewels from Indigo Westlake was enough to summon the ambitious auctioneer, the moustached Dr Leroy Sotheby. Dr Sotheby would like nothing more than to claim that Indigo had her eyes on the jewels. Her impeccable taste had been one of the main considerations for making her the manager of the family fund at such a young age.

"Ms Westlake, it's always a pleasure to have you along. An interest that you share with your cousin? Odd that I haven't spotted her yet tonight."

Given that Verity loved collecting useless knick knacks and Mr Sotheby was her favourite procurer, Indigo had forbidden her cousin from attending the museum tonight. Though they were the same age, Indigo's authority trumped Verity's. Even if it didn't, and some cruel twist of fate placed Verity at the head of the trust, Indigo was fortunate enough to be skilled in numerous means of persuasion.

She glanced down at the jewels again. Her face betrayed nothing but aloofness, though she deliberately sprinkled boredom in her tone, half hidden under polite interest. A seasoned auctioneer was not to be underestimated. If she was outright bored, then he would know that she was interested.

"Verity does have an unhealthy obsession with crusade revival. Unfortunately, she was rather tied up tonight. If she does free up before the end of the night, I'll be sure to let you know, Doctor. Needless to say that you two will have much to discuss."

"Ah, yes, of course." He didn't even sound disappointed. After all, he knew as well as Indigo that the jewels were only the novelty of one exhibition.

He trailed after her collegially towards the beautifully simplistic Ame no Murakumo Tsurugi, another famous sword. Its blade, after all these years, was still polished to a mirror sheen.

"This is worth storing," Indigo pointed out. It wasn't an obvious choice, but if the connection could be made between this sword and the other instruments of the Japanese Imperial Regalia, it would be the pride of a collection. When she explained this to the doctor, his eyebrows shot up.

"I believe I know just the man who would be interested! My dear, would you mind telling him the same remarkable tid-bit that you told me? I will fetch him straight away."

Indigo smiled humourlessly. She had ensnared herself in Dr Sotheby's ploys after all. She should have learnt by now to simply keep her mouth shut.

"I'd rather not," she said belatedly. Dr Sotheby was already off through the crowd, and there were not so many people here that she could disappear amongst them.

He returned while she was still contemplating her escape. With him was an angular young man, perhaps about her age, who had a nervous fidget and glasses with rims so thick that they could have been binoculars. His hair was a dull black that hung in damp curls to his shoulders and he was overdressed even for an evening such as this one. Indigo fought against the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly here was the eccentric son of someone with money.

"Ms Westlake, may I have the pleasure of introducing Mr Mephisto Goethe. Mr Goethe, this is-"

"Indigo Westlake, head of the Westlake Family Trust and clinical professor of Forensic Art History at Aurum Univerity." He reached out to take her hand sternly.

Indigo tried not to look too pleased. "Well if you know that much about me, then you should give me your real name, because you will have a hard time convincing me that you are Mephistopheles of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe fame." She looked past the young man's sweaty palms for a moment to his firm grip.

The young man's lips tightened. It could have been a smile or grimace equally. For a moment he looked to argue, but then he said abruptly, "Sven. Sven Hagenson."

Dr Sotheby was the only one to look surprised. "Oh my."

Now that he had been made, Sven no longer had to hide the cold gleam in his eye. But it was nothing compared to the flame that now burned in Indigo's.

"Of Magnus and Hagenson Solutions?" Indigo asked, even though she and the doctor were both fairly sure of this already. "How does your father do?"

John Hagenson liked to tote the family man story in public, talking non-stop about his son, Sven, to anyone who would listen. The young man in question, however, was a much more private creature. Indigo would be as well in his shoes. If her father was known for his ties to the criminal underworld, she would have died of shame.

"He's not my real father." Sven relinquished his grip and made move to step back, but Indigo held on.

"I... I think someone wants my attention over there," Dr Sotheby said, reading the tension. He made a quick escape. Apologies for the poor introduction could always be made later.

Sven wasn't s lucky. Indigo morphed the handshake into a more subtle grip on the young man by sliding her hand up and taking his arm. To the bystander, they looked nothing more than a budding couple with a shared interest in the sword. This close to his body, Indigo could feel dampness radiating from him. Heavens this man could sweat!

"Dr Sotheby tells me that you're interested in the sword," she said, pushing aside her disgust for now. "Tell me, do you feel the same about crowns and badges as well? And tell me, how is your friend Ben?"

Her approach was not subtle. It was not delicate. But her gut told her she had captured one of the B-Team and that was good enough for her. Regardless of how Sven answered her questions, she was sure that he was behind the scenes somehow. She had been on the hunt for the thieves of her crown for months, and there was little Indigo couldn't accomplish with time and honed rage. She had narrowed down at least one of the B-Team's members to ties with Magnus and Hagenson, and she strongly suspected one of Magnus' grandsons in disgrace. It was too much of a coincidence for Sven Hagenson himself to be here tonight after B-Team declared the jewels as their mark. Sven must be the scout.

"Are you this strange all the time?" Sven asked. He made an attempt to pull away, but resigned rather quickly when Indigo tightened her grip. He sighed. "I thought the rumours of you exaggerated, but you are eccentric."

"Me, eccentric!?" Indigo's eyes bulged. Sven was the odd one in this crowd!

He glanced at her angry eyes and quickly looked away, but in doing so was met with the open curiosity of those around them. He settled with his eyes to the ground and a red blooming on his neck and cheeks. "Can you let me go? I don't want it getting back that Indigo Westlake was on my arm all night." With Indigo on his arm, he couldn't fidget his hands together, so he settled for thrusting his free hand deep into his coat pocket.

Indigo found herself blushing too. She didn't want to think about what the rumours would be if everyone saw her latched onto the son of a criminal powerhouse. But she would die before she let Sven out of her grip now.

"A walk outside for fresh air?" Indigo offered.

Sven shuddered, but nodded. "Into a waiting black van to get head bagged I'm sure," he muttered as Indigo steered him out of the museum.

On any other night, Sven would have been right. If Indigo could have predicted Sven's attendance, she would have had a team of men ready for the take down. But she had come to the museum tonight alone in her cloud of shame. If questioned, she would never admit what she had been plotting before she met Sven, but that did not stop her from feeling the sting of truth. She could lie to the world about her intentions, but she could not lie to herself: she had planned to steal the jewels herself.

To protect them, of course.

But even the right reasons couldn't wash out the foul taste of stealing.

Once they were outside, Sven made a more visible effort to pull away, only to find that Indigo was stronger than she looked. Even while busy spinning out a new plan, she had sized him up. Underneath the dress coat Sven had a slender, athletic build. It wasn't quite to the standard of master thieves; Sven likely had someone else on stealthy acrobatics. His was a body kept just in case. Hers, on the other hand, was purpose built to defeat master thieves, no matter their shape or size.

"Whatever you do, you should do it quickly," Sven said with a shaky breath.

"Oh, why would you say that?" Indigo asked.

He held out his free hand. The screen of the mobile phone he held glowed in the night. Indigo caught sight of a dialled number. The call was already connected.

She narrowed her eyes and reached out to swipe at it, but Sven's arms were longer than hers, and he held it easily out of reach. The move cost her the grip that she had on his arm, and he pushed her away roughly.

"Tell Ben that he won't get away with what he's done," Indigo said loudly, as much for the benefit of whoever was on the other side of the phone line as it was for Sven.

"Who?" Sven frowned.

"Don't play stupid. I know you're a part of B-Team," Indigo growled.

"What are you talking about?"

Sven's lines were too cliché for them to mean anything other than expressed guilt. However, it was clear that he wasn't going to just admit his involvement in the team that had stolen Indigo's precious crown. Not, at least, without more intensive interrogation.

She lifted up her dress-

"Uh..." Sven averted his eyes. "I'm not..."

-and pulled the gun from her drop leg holster.

"Oh." Sven scrunched his eyes. He held up his hands, careful to refrain from sudden movements as Indigo darted in to snatch the phone from his hands.

She tossed it on the ground and stomped until the light went out, then kicked it into the bushes for good measure. She gestured towards the path down to the cark park.

"They will come after me." Sven said over his shoulder as he started to move slowly down the path.

Indigo knew that she was digging a hole for herself, but she couldn't stop now. This was her best lead on the B-Team, and the more Sven feigned innocence, the more she thought him culpable. What would she do when John Hagenson himself came knocking? Her status in the art world would not protect her from the law, let alone creatures of the underclass. She told herself that she could still get information out of Sven yet, but only if she pushed her worries to the side and focused on the task at hand.

"Strip while you walk," she instructed coolly.

She couldn't see the expression on the young man's face, but she felt his hesitation. It evaporated to the sound of her gun cocking. The coat was the first to come off, followed by the vest, a complicated system of suspenders and belt, and his shirt. Then came the undershirt and his pants, which had to be peeled off because they were so soaked in sweat. By the time they reached her sunset Lamborghini Aventador, he was down to his boots and boxers.

"Do I-"

"Yes. Don't think for a moment that I'm happy about any this." Indigo said. She tried to keep her eyes above waist level once she had checked him over. Sven covered himself quickly with his hands anyway once he had stripped away the last of his clothes.

"Out of the two of us, who do you think is more unhappy about this?" Sven asked dryly. He bent his head low so that Indigo could run her hands through his dark hair.

She flung his glasses into the bushes.

"That was really not necessary." He was squinting now, and even so had trouble getting into the car without knocking his head.

Indigo hurried into the driver's seat, resting her gun hand against the one that she had on the wheel so that she could continue to point it at him as she drove. As they sped towards the highway, she resigned herself to the fact that she would soon be a fugitive. Given her original plans, she had considered it a possibility, but kidnapping was not the crime that she had intended to commit tonight.

Author's Notes

Tomorrow is the start of the madness that is National Novel Writing Month. It's been a while since I've written anything, so I thought I would get back into the swing of writing with this addition to Ambergris. It might be a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading this warm up piece. My actual nano story is nothing to do with this set of characters, so apologies in advance for leaving you hanging.