Diamond-Edged Shiv: Science Fiction

The shiv sparkled in the light as the neon sign glowed in its diamond facets. What the hell is that, Martine wondered. Who the hell puts diamonds on a shiv? Then the person holding the weapon eased forward into the light, and Martine knew she was well and truly screwed. One of the fancies was out slumming, with her designer shiv, her immunity from the police, and the very expensive bodyguard no doubt waiting in the alley behind her, just in case little miss precious couldn't handle her own pig-sticking. And she, Martine, was destined to be the pig. Well, not if she had anything to say about it! Hell if she'd survived in the rough-and-tumble of the Alley for five hard years to get slit by a fancy.

Inspiration: For the last several days, I've had variants of "shimmer" in my head when I sat down to write. Shiv was close enough.
Story Potential: High...tentatively. This isn't going to turn into anything award-winning, but there's a skeleton behind it, and I do have a weakness for crazy-insane societies that require feats of bad-assedness.
Finished Length: Urk. Short story? In my dreams? More likely novel.
Notes: Yeah....