There were no more donuts.

But there were more visits.

The next one came a month later. He settled himself in the chair, leaning back and wincing slightly. He had been thrown that day, and the guy had gotten two good kicks in before Gabe could roll away. He’d still finished the fight, but he had bruises and a cut over one eye to prove it.

Add it to the collection, he thought. The idea of his looks being marred and ruined didn’t bother him as it once had.

Just to test a theory, a completely outlandish, impossible theory, Gabe had mentioned to Etienne in passing that he missed chocolate coated coffee beans.

It was just a theory.

This time it wasn’t Mr. Xero who came to see him, but a woman he had never seen before. She wasted no time before placing her wine-red leather briefcase on the table between them.

“Mr. Malkovich, I’ll be your new attorney.” She said, opening the clasps with an efficient snap.

Gabe blinked. “What happened to Rupert?”

She barely looked his way. “He’s been removed from your case. I’m replacing him.”

“How could he have been replaced? I hired him.” Gabe said, feeling a familiar anger building.

“Mr. Xero felt that he was not handling your case adequately.” She replied simply, taking pages out of her bag and laying them precisely beside the case.

Gabe glared. “Mr. Xero has no right replacing my attorney without even consulting me. I don’t even know you!”

“Mr. Xero does what he pleases.” She said, unruffled by his upset. “And my name is Miss Charlotte Aubrey.”

Miss Charlotte Aubrey sat patiently, waiting for Gabe to simmer down. He observed her more carefully. A clean-cut pants suit, perfectly straight hair cut just under her chin and bangs that ended severely above her eyebrows. Definite dye job, wine red wasn’t natural on anybody, but it was perfect and glossy. And it appeared she had chosen the frames of her glasses to match.

She looked as if she could be in a gale and the breeze wouldn’t touch her.

“Mr. Xero doesn’t own me.” He ended up saying. It wasn’t acceptable but it was a line drawn in the sand, at least.

“Mr. Xero has an interest in you at this point in time. An interest which presses on him to make sure you remain in safe custody, ie: Not prison. Your previous attorney was getting nowhere with your appeal. I have been assigned to remedy this situation.” She spoke, laying the facts out concisely with little inflection.

“Why doesn’t he just throw money at it?” Gabe sneered. “Or find someone to pressure into getting what he wants.”

“He threw me at it, Mr. Malkovich. Using the correct legal procedures is often the course of choice for Mr. Xero, despite what you may think. It makes for less explanation later on.”

“You mean it makes him seem less guilty.”

“Mr. Xero has never been convicted of any crimes.”

“Of course he hasn’t.”

She met his gaze again, still perfectly unruffled. “If you’re done being nettled, can we get on with this? I have another appointment in an hour.”

As it turned out, Rupert really hadn’t done a very good job at all. It was probably Gabe’s fault; he didn’t have much money to offer in his defense. Rupert was an old acquaintance, and not too pricey. But Miss Aubrey went over paperwork and motions with him, and Gabe was made aware that his sentence had been extended to eighteen months. A fact Rupert hadn’t shared. Gabe swore.

“Yes, quite,” said Miss Aubrey. She was already shuffling her paperwork back into neat piles, all the corners meeting together. “I have what I need. If all goes well, you will not hear from me again.”

Gabe sat back hard in his seat. Then regretted it, wincing again.

“He still doesn’t own me.” He told her as she stood up.

She said nothing in response, but took out a small, nondescript box, pushing it towards him, before snapping her case closed and leaving.

Gabe opened the box slowly and chocolate found coated coffee beans.