Vampire Enthusiast

He grinned. “Have a little faith in me. I can manage one conversation on my own.”

“Please use the help,” Beckman said beside you. “It’s considerably less embarrassing for the rest of us. Requires less alcohol too.”

“You’re not going to like my idea for this one then,” you warned him.

He sighed and looked toward the exit, contemplating if he needed another smoke despite having walked in less than a minute ago.

“There’s a spare booth in the corner,” Hongo said. “We can move there and leave these two to scheme.”

You rolled your eyes at them before you turned to your captain. “I think we need to use the pity card.”

Shanks gestured to his missing arm. “I try it but most of them don’t bite.”

“Not the arm,” you said. “That’s way too obvious. Lucky, swap places with me?”

You dropped down next to Shanks and immediately shuffled closer so you were sitting again to him. You draped his arm purposefully over your shoulder and adjusted yourself a few times to make sure it looked comfortable. Shanks’ grin only grew wider as you did so. He was very malleable which made this much easier.  

Beckman raised an eyebrow at you. “And this is supposed to help?”

“It will,” you said. “Alright, we’re dating.”

“Okay,” Shanks said immediately and he squeezed you against him.

“No,” you protested. “You’re miserable in this relationship. I’m an absolute bitch and I’m going to break up with you by the end of the night. Then you can go and console yourself somewhere warm.”

Shanks moved his arm from your shoulders to grab his drink. “No way that’s going to work.”

“Trust me. She’s only going to be interested in a one-night thing and rebound sex is perfect for that. And she’ll feel bad for you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Beckman informed you.

“It’ll work. Can you order me a drink, captain?”

Shanks tilted his head to the side. “Would you really call me that if we were together? It feels a little formal.”

“We’re not fake dating yet. Be patient.”

“If this works, I’ll pay for a round,” Limejuice said with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

“Two for me,” you said. “Seeing as it’s my idea.”

“Deal.”

She brought over the first round with a pleasant, customer-perfected smile. If she even noticed Shanks more than a passing glance, it was impressive. But the second she put a drink in front of you, you made a show of wrinkling your nose.

“Are you serious?” you asked him, voice sharper than it had ever been toward your captain. “Why did you buy me this? This is my usual. I didn’t want my usual.”

Shanks almost immediately ruined it by smiling as though it was a game. He managed to wrangle the expression after a minute. “I’m sorry?”

You pushed the drink away from you and rolled your eyes. “I wanted to try something new. How do you even know what types of drinks I like anyway? That’s so fucking creepy.”

The woman was giving you a very confused look. She glanced to the arm on your shoulders and seemed to be debating whether to take the drink back or leave the situation to play itself out. You tried not to look at her but it was difficult considering your crew had awful poker faces.

Yasopp brought his hand up to cover his mouth, barely managing to conceal his laughter with a cough.

“Okay, okay,” Shanks said as though he meant to soothe an irritable animal. He did not sound even vaguely as affronted as you needed him too. “Why don’t you choose something else and I’ll get it for you.”

You turned your glare on him. “I don’t want anything else. My night has already been ruined.” You shrugged his arm off and had to fight not to return his very easy, very unoffended smile. “Why do you always do this? Try and make up for your mistakes with gifts and crap I don’t want?”

Hongo snorted and you elbowed him. That made him laugh harder.

It was too early in the evening to storm off though so you crossed your arms and settled for a sulk against the booth. Shanks asked for another drink and the woman’s expression turned incredibly sympathetic as she hurried off.

You waited until she was far enough away before you beamed proudly.

“Working already,” you said.

You picked up the drink he’d ordered for you and glanced over to make sure she wasn’t looking before you drank. He knew your usual order. It was exactly what you had wanted and you’d been silently hoping she wouldn’t take it back.

“You’re awfully good at this,” Yasopp commented.

“You’re all terrible,” you huffed. You looked toward Shanks. “You need to stop smiling like this is funny. You’re trying to get pity, not convince her you’re a masochist.”

“But it is funny,” he argued. “I didn’t know you could be so rude.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the whole point of you being my soon-to-be ex. Which is going to be really hard to commit to if you’re all laughing.”

“She hasn’t been rude once,” Beckman commented. “Both the things she said were compliments.”

“I know. If I was making him sound bad, she wouldn’t be interested. You’ll see.”

“There’s more of this?”

You nodded sincerely. “Of course there’s more to it. She’s not going to want to be with him if she thinks he’s cheating. So, I need to storm out of here and he needs to go mope. But I’m also not returning to the ship alone so…”

“So this is a whole night thing?” Lucky Roux asked.

“Exactly.”

“Brilliant,” Shanks agreed and downed his drink.

He really was the weakest link in this performance. You could see it.

The waitress seemed almost nervous to place the drink in front of you when she returned and you sighed very dramatically but took it.

“Men,” you muttered under your breath.

She gave you the closest thing she could get to a sympathetic smile while also appearing slightly unnerved by you.

Yasopp took full advantage of the situation. He leaned across and took your favoured drink from in front of you while Limejuice spoke to the waitress. Shanks removed it from him before he could drink it, moving it back in front of you without even looking.

“This is blatant favouritism,” Yasopp said. “She said she didn’t want it and she has a new one.”

“She might change her mind,” Shanks offered.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to always take my side with everything. It’s embarrassing. I’m an adult.”

“See,” Yasopp said.

You still moved the drink closer to you, shooting a rude gesture toward him. Shanks smiled at you and you narrowed your eyes in response.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“All warm and nice. It annoys me.”

“It’s out of love.”

You almost facepalmed. That was the opposite of what you needed him to say. The mistreated boyfriend thing was already failing. Impressive because you knew he could really make the wet, pathetic man look work when he wanted to.

It just seemed tonight his acting skills had disappeared.

Beckman sighed deeply on the other side of the table as the waitress left. “I actually think this might be worse than the usual attempts.”

“It’s way worse,” Limejuice agreed but he looked one comment away from laughing.

“Because our captain is making this very hard,” you pointed out.

“I thought I was meant to be dating you,” Shanks said and his arm settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Nobody’s going to buy it if you’re complaining the whole time. There has to be some affection in there too.”

“No,” you said. “That’s literally the point.”

“You’re not trying to convince the room at large,” Hongo pointed out.

“Thankfully,” Beckman muttered.

Yasopp leaned across the table toward you. “What are you thinking for the big breakup?” he asked. “Screaming match?”

You thought about it for a second before you looked up to Shanks. “Why do you think we would break up? I need something believable but that still paints you in a good light.”

“You’ll get one or the other,” Limejuice told you.

Shanks drummed his fingers against your shoulder as he thought about it. You picked up your original drink and looked around the tavern. Nobody here was interesting enough that you could lean into the ‘fine, I’ll go find somebody else’ play. Not that you really wanted to either way.

“Can’t think of anything,” he said. “Ah well. Nothing to it. Guess you’re stuck here.”

Not helpful. You looked up to him and he smiled as though he wasn’t thwarting your entire plan. This is why you had stopped helping him get laid ages ago. He always sabotaged it.

“I’ll figure something out,” you said. “Then I’ll storm off and meet you guys back on the Red Force.”

“You shouldn’t be walking this area by yourself,” Shanks mentioned. “Couple of people have been glancing in this direction. Beck can take you back.”

“I have a weapon.”

“Still. Just to be safe.”

“We’ll all go back together,” Beckman said. “You can stay if this ridiculous plan works out but we’re leaving early tomorrow and I’m not collecting everyone in the morning.”

“If somebody gets left behind, it’s probably going to be Yasopp,” you said.

“What? Why me?!”

You picked up the drink he’d tried to steal from you and took a very pointed sip from it. “Just a hunch.”

While he huffed about that, you settled into the leather booth, body slotting easily against Shanks’ side. It was far more comfortable than it should have been. And if you focused, you could easily ignore the way the proximity made your heart misfire.

There was no lie easy enough to swallow surrounding the true reason. So, you didn’t bother to try.

“I was left behind once,” Shanks mentioned. “Hardly the worst thing.”

“Most peaceful hours of my life,” Beckman said.

“And here I thought that would be before you met us,” you mentioned.

“I’ve known you lot for long enough that I’ve forgotten what it was like before then.”

“Boring,” Shanks volunteered.

You chuckled and looked toward the waitress. She should be bringing over whatever Limejuice had asked for soon but you’d entirely failed to think of any further complaints surrounding Shanks at the moment.

So you sat up.

You reached for his hair to try and pull some forward. He leaned closer to you to allow you to mess with the locks although granted, they were rarely perfectly tamed anyway.

“What are we doing now?” he asked. “Are you trying to imply we found somewhere quiet?”

You pushed his shoulder lightly in reprimand. “No. I’m trying to imitate that pathetic look you get sometimes when you’re really drunk.”

“Pathetic?” he repeated.

You met his eyes and for a second, the fingers threading through his hair paused before you got back onto task. “You look really sad,” you explained. “And seeing as you plan on ruining my idea by smiling constantly, I need to use everything in my arsenal.”

“Can’t fault me for it,” he said. “But come on, I don’t have a sad drunk look.”

Confirmations came from everybody at the exact same time which succeeded in making Shanks laugh, tipping his head away from you. You should have complained about your work but it was easier to join in. There was no way you could successfully replicate it without buying him half of the bar.

And after that he probably wouldn’t go home with her. You’d have to listen to him mumbling when he inevitably passed out on your chest. Which would be a massive failure.

She arrived not long after and you pushed Shanks’ arm off your shoulders with a grumble about him being far too warm.

This plan was starting to annoy you a bit much.

The constant shifts between comfortable warmth and the air of the tavern were beginning to get under your skin. But you still didn’t have an idea for the breakup which meant you had to persist through it.

And persist you did, if unhappily so.

Right until Beckman got everyone to pay.

You didn’t stand immediately. “The rest of you can go ahead,” you said. “Just got to finish the whole act.”

Shanks grinned at you. “I still don’t know if this will work.”

“Trust me, it will,” you promised as the woman came over to collect the beri.

She kept glancing toward him, attention hovering briefly on you as she did so. You rolled your eyes and tried to give her a mildly disgruntled look while the others filed from the booth and began to make their way toward the exit.

Everybody had been pretty well behaved that evening and you couldn’t help but feel it was at least partially because they all wanted to see how this would end up going.

“This was the worst night ever,” you complained, trying to look like you didn’t want to follow the rest of the crew home. “I can’t believe you dragged me out here with your stupid smile and pretty words. I’m so tired of having to do this all the time.”

Shanks still wasn’t helping. The messy hair had been a fatal error on your part. Your heart was stuck as he looked at you through the strands.

“I’m sorry,” he said and he still sounded far too affectionate to play the role of a man being badgered by his partner for nothing. “I’ll make it up to you with a better night out.”

“No,” you insisted. “I don’t want another night. I’m tired of you constantly trying to look after me. Just let me decide when I want to do something.”

That sounded awkward. You could hear it sounded wrong.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem the other woman had felt the same way. She kept giving him sympathetic, pitying looks as though she had just noticed your captain was unfairly handsome. Took her long enough.

You stood from the table and straightened your clothes. Shanks moved as though to join you and you pointed at him.

“Don’t follow me,” you said. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

It hurt a little more than you had thought it would. It shouldn’t have and yet it stung at your chest. You tried to ignore it.

His smile faltered for barely a second before returning, easier and brighter than before. If you had not been staring directly at him, you might have missed it.

“Would you stop?” you asked.

“Stop what?”

“I just said we shouldn’t see each other anymore and you’re grinning like you won a prize. Do I really mean so little to you?”

That didn’t sound too flattering on his side of things. But he opened his mouth to respond and you already knew he was about to make it so much worse. You spun on your heel and marched from the tavern without waiting.

The rest of the crew stood together at the corner of the street and by the time you joined, you knew your expression was annoyed.

Although whether you were annoyed about him ruining the plan or about having to leave in general, you couldn’t really tell. And you didn’t care to think about it for much longer.

“Is she interested?” Beckman asked.

You nodded, trying hard enough to look casual that you probably achieved the opposite. “She is. I’m sure we’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Joyful.”

“Are you going to be in a mood for the rest of the night then?” Yasopp asked. “Like you always are when he goes home with a woman?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiled far too suspiciously and you were halfway through your answering rebuttal when Beckman looked past your shoulder. “Guess not.”

“What?”

You looked back to find Shanks stepping through the entrance of the tavern, very much alone. His hair was still mussed from your attempts at making him look sadder but his smile was very relaxed. He strolled over lazily like he had nowhere else to be and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t tell me I did all of that and you still managed to mess it up,” you complained as he got closer.

He looked far too pleased with himself. “Tried my hardest.”

Yasopp laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Do you know what probably ruined it? That whole expression you shot at her toward the end. It was basically a threat.”

“What are you talking about?” you countered. “That’s not the expression I was going for. I more wanted a ‘don’t waste your time’ look.”

Lucky Roux snorted. “You missed that by a mile.”

Oops. You hadn’t meant to be that transparent about it. You shrugged. “Whatever. Even if she thought that, it’s not going to change the whole breakup and sad look I gave you. How did you possibly mess that part up?”

Shanks wrapped his arm around your shoulder. The familiar warmth relaxed some of your stress even though it shouldn’t have.

“Don’t worry, your plan worked perfectly. I just declined.”

“You did what?” you complained. “I embarrassed myself the whole evening and you just said no?”

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

You groaned and tipped your head to the side so it was resting against him. “I’m never committing this hard to a plan for you again.”

“If only I could believe that,” Beckman sighed.

It turned out to be a lie within the first week when you realised Shanks and you made very good exes. And being in a fake relationship with him could be more beneficial than you thought.

Somebody was being unnecessarily persistent when it came to you?

Well, it was impressive how quickly they disappeared when you spoke about your ex-boyfriend who just so happened to be an emperor. All their interest gone the moment you looked over to Shanks and smiled and he returned the grin.

He didn’t even need to move from wherever he was. He’d just meet your eyes and that would be enough to chase whatever annoyance was bothering you.

So you had an easy way out of situations without a fight.

And it did work unfortunately well for its original purpose too.

Something you learned when you wound up in a market. One considerably nicer than the ones your crew more often frequented.

Stalls lined the edges of the square, stocked with foods and curiosities. The late afternoon warmth still clung to the stone beneath your boots, softened by the occasional breeze carrying spice, sugar and something frying in oil through the crowd. People wandered between merchants without any particular urgency, voices folding easily beneath the gentle music drifting from somewhere you couldn’t quite place.

It was the sort of market that encouraged lingering. Unfortunately, your crew had never needed much encouragement.

“Thank you,” you said to the merchant as she finished writing down your drink orders and stepped away to prepare them.

You moved to Yasopp, Hongo, and Lucky Roux and nodded. “There. That’s my card debt cleared,” you said. “But I’m not carrying everything back. The last time that ended with my clothing soaked through.”

“Don’t look now, but I think somebody’s interested in your ‘ex’,” Yasopp mentioned, his voice loud enough to carry through the rattle of ice in the shaker behind you.  

You frowned and looked over his shoulder to find a group of women who were looking toward the table you’d left Shanks and Beckman at. Their attention was undeniable.

And the moment they heard Yasopp speak, they looked curiously toward you.

One of the women waved apologetically. “Sorry, you’re part of the Red Hair Pirates, right?”

They were very much Shanks’ type. Beautiful enough that he didn’t have to flounder for compliments and clearly intrigued by the concept of pirates in general. One of them was even sneaking glances toward Hongo.

“Guilty as charged,” Yasopp said.

“Don’t bother with these three,” you said. “They’re not worth the time.”

The women giggled to themselves as your crew gave you insulted looks. Served them right for beating you at cards the night before.

“That’s because you have very specific taste,” Hongo commented.

“Red hair only?” Yasopp asked.

You shook your head. Of course this turned into another conversation about that. But before you could offer your denial, one of the women put the two comments together and looked toward Shanks before looking back at you.

“Wait, your ex is Red Hair Shanks?”

You were going to kill Yasopp.

It was the perfect opportunity to prove once again how easily the upset ex game would work. And they were the type that Shanks would never turn down.

So you nodded and stepped away from the rest of your crew toward the group of women. They made space for you in their circle without asking.

“Unfortunately,” you said.

There was little need to fake the annoyance from you. Something about the situation was irritating enough to creep under your skin. They didn’t look like they were meaning anything by their interest.

That made it worse.

“Why are you no longer together?” the blonde asked.

“Probably because he’s a pirate,” another offered. “I can’t imagine any of them are loyal. No offense.”

You smiled, a little placated by their genuine friendliness. “None taken. But I wish it was that easy. He’s overbearingly loyal.”

“Really?”

“Annoyingly so. Every day, it’s a constant barrage of questions on if you’re okay, what you’re going to be doing, if you need any help. It’s basically nagging at that point. And when you’re trying to talk to somebody else, he’s staring at you constantly.”

“Like he’s doing right now?” one of the women asked.

You looked over your shoulder to find Shanks’ gaze was indeed locked on you. He nodded toward the seat next to him and you gestured toward the group you were with.

“See.”

They all looked appropriately interested by your acknowledgement. A few waved at him in greeting and you didn’t even need to try to look jaded.

“It was one of the reasons we broke up,” you said. “He was just too clingy.”

Behind you, you heard Hongo laugh. You wondered if you could throw something over your shoulder and still hit them. Weren’t these three meant to be joining the rest of the crew?

“I have to admit, I wouldn’t complain if a man who looked like that wanted to be near me all the time,” the blonde said although upon meeting your eyes, she hurried to correct herself, “but I do understand it can get a bit much.”

“That’s another problem,” you said. “He’s far too handsome and he knows it. Uses those good looks to get whatever he wants.”

“Now that one I can see.”

An arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Okay, we could stand here for hours and listen to you ‘complain’ about Shanks,” Yasopp said, “but the ice in your drink is melting. Come on.”

You shrugged him off immediately and took your drink, nodding to the women. They waved you goodbye and you gave your crew a warning look. They only made it a few steps before they all started laughing.

Shanks moved the chair next to him out as you approached and you purposefully sat across from him. His hand stayed on the back of the empty chair for a second before he let it go. He did not comment on your choice.

“We’re exes again,” you told him.

“Oh? What have we broken up from this time?”

“You’re too good looking apparently,” Yasopp chuckled.

You answered that by driving your boot into his ankle as he sat down. He yelped and shuffled away from you but you’d got the hit off. Good. You’d worked out that two drinks in was about when Yasopp stopped bothering to dodge.

“That doesn’t seem like a reason to break up,” Shanks mentioned.

“Entire group over there’s interested in you,” you said. “You have your pick if you want. What else was there to say? You always have sand on your cloak?”

“Would be a more believable reason,” Limejuice commented.

You ignored them because your plan worked.

Mostly.

Shanks stayed at the table and never ventured far enough from the crew for any of the women to even speak to him. But still, their attention didn’t move from him until the market had already begun to close.

Which was a victory that you didn’t care to think about.

Not until the cover came up again during a celebration some weeks later.

It was one of your favourite types of evenings.

The music wasn’t too loud, there were just enough people for it to feel lively, and the crew had arrived on the back of a successful raid against a passing Marine vessel. You had money for good drinks and adrenaline still shifting pleasantly through your veins.

The tavern itself wasn’t anything special. The floorboards stuck beneath your boots in places, the tables were scarred from years of spilled drinks and worse decisions, and you doubted there was another drinking hole anywhere nearby. As the evening dragged on, more people squeezed inside until chairs became valuable and seating turned into a suggestion for anybody who had not arrived early enough.

Shanks and Beckman had a table to themselves but you purposefully found your way closer to the rest of the crew.

Your heart had been struggling a bit too much lately. It would be good to take a break from the efforts.

And unfortunately for Shanks, his company alone required a certain effort to act normal with.

“Captain’s looking for you,” Yasopp said halfway through your conversation with Hongo. “He’s giving you that look again.”

You turned your head to find him. Shanks hadn’t moved from his table but now there was a third person with them. A woman. You couldn’t see much from this distance but she looked sweet enough to be his style.

He met your gaze and his eyes cut toward her quickly. A plea of some sort.

She looked interested enough without your help. You smiled and turned back to the rest of the crew.

“He has that,” you said. “He’s picked up women in weirder places.”

“I think he wants your help with getting rid of her actually,” Limejuice mentioned.

“Oh, does he? Heartbreaking.” You shrugged. “What would I do about that? I think he’s more than able to come up with an excuse.”

“You can play the crazy ex role again,” Yasopp said with a chuckle. “Go over there and scare her off by telling her how amazing he is and how deeply in love with him you are.”

You hit his shoulder, harder than you should have but not enough that you felt bad about it despite how he jumped.

“Shut up. That’s not what I do.”

“No, that’s exactly what you do,” Limejuice said and stepped out of your range. “It’s basically a love confession every time. He’s so sweet and so nice and handsome.” He pitched his voice higher in imitation.

“Boosts his ego something ridiculous,” Hongo commented.

You crossed your arms and glared at your crew. “I hope you all know that the crazy ex thing is meant to help him pick up women. I can’t exactly go out there and tell them…”

You trailed off.

“Struggling to think of an insult there?” Yasopp taunted. “How about you tell him that his voice is too soothing again? And it puts you to sleep. That one was the sharpest jab I’ve ever heard in all my years on the sea.”

“He’ll never recover from being told he’s too handsome and it pisses her off.”

You rolled your eyes. They were being ridiculous. Was it that hard to realise you were trying to increase his chances of going home with women? Not give them reasons not to?

“Fine,” you said. “If you want me to be a crazier ex, I can be a crazier ex.”

“Just remember to tell him how great of a lover he is,” Limejuice called after you.

You muttered curses at all of them, shoved your drink into Hongo’s chest and turned on your heel. This situation would actually call for something more insulting. Because you were going to try and convince this woman he wasn’t worth the effort so you’d need…

You met Shanks’ eyes and he smiled in appreciation for your path over. Which immediately knocked half of the ideas out of your mind.

Great.

It wasn’t easy to stay annoyed even with the other woman at his table. Beckman stood at your approach and walked away, clearly not interested in staying for this.

You took his seat immediately.

The poor woman across from you frowned when you sat down, clearly not having expected your sudden arrival. You tried to remember that you weren’t actually annoyed at her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by flirting with a pirate captain.

So you stopped looking at her and instead looked at Shanks. You didn’t say anything, just raised your eyebrow.

“Hello, love,” he said, far too quick to settle into this game.

The word landed warmer than it had any right to. You ignored that too.

You crossed your arms. “I hope you have an explanation ready.”

The annoyance that bled into your voice surprised even you. He also hadn’t expected it and you saw interest flash over his expression for a second. You didn’t want to think about why you were so irritated.

So, you blamed Yasopp and called it the end.

The woman at the table looked between you and Shanks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Is this very important? We were talking.”

“By all means, continue,” you said, trying to wrestle your tone into something more controlled and failing. “It seems that a charming smile is enough of an answer.”

Shanks’ smirk only grew wider and you realised bitterly that Yasopp might have had a point. You needed something considerably ruder than that if you were trying to scare somebody off but your thoughts struggled to grab anything.

“I’m not trying to answer any questions,” he said innocently. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us.”

You looked toward the other woman and chose to ignore him. “Look, if I can give you one hint,” you said. “You don’t want to get involved with this.”

She blinked at you in confusion before she glanced toward Shanks again. “What do you mean…? Are you two…?”

You rolled your eyes. “Once. Worst choice I’ve ever made.”

Part of you didn’t know what to expect and you were hoping for somebody more focused on him that would let you just lean into the jealousy side. Instead, she lowered her voice as though Shanks wasn’t there.

“What do you mean?”

Shit. Now you had to think of actual reasons.

Which you had none of.

“You know how pirates are,” you said, hedging as close as you could toward safety. “None of them are worth the effort. They’ve only got their good looks and confidence. There’s almost nothing else there.”

She hummed. “For one night, do you need much more?”

You hated this much more than you cared to say. Because she had a point. A good point. And Shanks could definitely hear this conversation even if he was pretending to look elsewhere and let the women talk it out.

“Maybe not but... he’s irritating.”

“I’m sure I can survive that.”

“Extremely irritating.”

She stared at you as though genuinely confused and you had to consider that that wasn’t really a reason not to sleep with your captain.

You had to bite your tongue before something else slipped free. Did you really struggle this badly to insult him? Even when you specifically were meant to be doing that? It was Shanks. There were like a thousand things you should be able to see as flaws.

Like the fact he… the way he…

You turned away from the woman to glare at Shanks instead. “You’re so annoying.”

He startled at the genuine bite to your tone. “What?”

You stood up from the table and left. A genuinely concerned voice called your name from the direction of the rest of the crew but you ignored them too.

This was such a stupid problem to have. A ridiculous problem caused by a ridiculous man who even managed to be a good fake ex as well as everything else. Who even did that?

The Red Force waited for you at the harbour, dark and familiar against the water. She almost seemed judgemental as you approached and you paused long enough to glare up at her hull. She had no room to judge you for anything when she had brought the insufferable man to your doorstep in the first place.

Nobody else was aboard. Nobody had bothered staying behind to watch her tonight. In a town like this, Shanks’ reputation did most of the work.

The quiet was welcome after the tavern. You dropped into your favourite hammock in the dining hall and stared through the windows. The ship rocked gently beneath you, water thumping steadily against the hull. You closed your eyes and just listened. Listened to the groan of the boards above you and the cries of the gulls beyond and the creak of the door as it opened.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“On my own ship?”

You opened one eye to glare at him. “I can go and sulk elsewhere if you prefer but you have a party to get to.”

Shanks wasn’t smiling anymore. His expression had gone quieter as he approached, thoughtful enough that some of your irritation lost its footing.

“So,” he said. “That last one felt real.”

“It was,” you said. “You are annoying. I don’t think this is a big revelation.”

He tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “It’s not. You’re hardly the first person to tell me that either but that was more personal than usual. Almost sounded like you had another reason behind it.”

“The others were getting under my skin,” you admitted. “Probably made me sound more on edge than I meant to.”

“They said the same thing when I asked.”

“Mm. Why did you need me to get rid of that woman anyway?” you asked, mind making your tongue a little looser than it should have been. “You’ve never struggled to get rid of them on your own before.”

He chuckled softly. “It was a bit of an excuse.”

“For what?”

“You looked annoyed,” he said. “Thought you might like to do something fun.”

You had been annoyed. You’d been annoyed because your silly little attempt at being his wingman shouldn’t have revealed anything near the level it had. Not to everybody else on the crew.

“Also, I think that’s the first real insult you’ve given me,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it definitely is.”

“I’ve called you irritating too.”

“Annoying and irritating mean the same thing,” he said. “So, I’m counting them both as one. It’s impressive considering we’re meant to have a whole breakup history.”

You hated how observational he was sometimes. Despised it with your very core. He was meant to be relaxing and enjoying the attention and not noticing how few of your complaints were true.  

“We do have a whole breakup history,” you muttered. “We’ve broken up three times now from our fake relationship.”

“And yet you still can’t think of one actual problem?”

“Maybe you should consider getting more flaws then,” you challenged. “Maybe then it would be easier to find reasons why somebody shouldn’t date you.”

“I have plenty. Beck probably has a list somewhere.”

“Actual, usual flaws,” you complained. “Being a bad actor when it comes to our fake breakups isn’t one I can use.”

He laughed and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not trying too hard. Mostly because I don’t like the idea as a whole. Hard to commit to something like that.”

He didn’t enjoy it? You sat up properly now, swinging both your legs out of the hammock so you could stare at him. There was sand on his cloak and your eyes lingered on it for a second before you could focus again. On his hair falling across his face and the easy grin that somehow dismantled your entire defence.

“If you don’t like it, why have you let me do it three times now?” you asked.

“Oh, I enjoyed the fake dating part of it,” he said. “So I figured I could put up with the fake breakup part if it meant I got more of the rest.”

“The breakup was the point,” you pointed out.

“Maybe. It was a good plan,” he said. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have minded the whole thing but I’ve changed my mind on plenty since then.”

“It worked.”

“Did it? Because in my mind, I was supposed to end up taking somebody else home and well… three times now and it hasn’t happened once.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you keep turning them down when you’re at the finish line.”

He grinned innocently. “Absolute mystery why.”

“Shanks…”

“Yes?”

You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to gather your thoughts together before you just sighed. There was no point. You didn’t enjoy the game either so there was no point in continuing to force yourself to do so.

“Alright,” you said. “We won’t use it anymore. No more fake breakups.”

He nodded solemnly. “And no more fake dating.”

“That goes with the fake breakups.”

“The fake ones were pretty bad anyway. And you can’t seem to talk anyone out of wanting me, and I’ve stopped wanting anyone else. Seems like we’re running out of excuses.”

Your brain stumbled. For a second, you swore even the ocean outside stopped swaying as you stared blankly at Shanks. His expression betrayed nothing about what he just said. Gave you little to help your brain move through.

You stood from the hammock very slowly. “I’m sorry?”

He shrugged as though he’d said something about the weather. “You’re the one who couldn’t find a single reason not to date me. I’m sure if you asked any other woman, they could rattle off countless. I drink too much –”

“Only when we’re all having fun.”

“I’m obnoxious.”

“Beckman calls you that. I disagree.”

“I’m pretty carefree about most things.”

“Let somebody threaten this ship or the people on it and see how quickly that changes.”

“I don’t notice I’ve fallen for a woman until she pretends to break up with me.”

“You… I’m sorry?”

He actually laughed then. “You were ready to defend me on that without even realising what I said.”

You had been planning on it. Before the comment had fully registered in your mind, you had already been ready to find the flaw in his logic. The realisation felt almost distant from your own mind before you breathed out through your nose.

“You’re bad at lying,” you finally said. “That’s a flaw.”

“Not when I want to,” he said. “I don’t need to here. And as much as you complain that I’m a bad actor, you were worse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve offered me a crazy ex and then just behaved mildly annoyed at everything,” he said.

You crossed your arms because you thought you had been a damn fine actor. “It’s not my fault when I have such little material to work with. I can’t complain about you being bad at relationships when you’re remembering what I drink and putting your cloak over my shoulders.”

“I’m sure you could have found something.”

“I tried.”

“Then that just proves my point better,” he said. “If there’s nothing you can think of about why we shouldn’t be together then…”

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Stared at him for far too long while every part of the conversation caught up to you all at once.

Shanks moved closer, fingers lightly brushing over your wrist as you tried to put your thoughts and words together. He lifted your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he patiently waited for an answer he already knew.

Because it would be impossible to deny.

The problem had never been finding reasons somebody would want him. It was pretending you weren’t somebody who did.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you finally said. “My reputation is ruined.”

He chuckled. “They’ll probably find something else to tease you over.”

“I don’t even know when I fell for you,” you admitted. “You’re just… you. There’s no difference between what I think about you now and what I did when we first met.”

That infuriatingly smug smile was back on his face. “That’s probably more of a confession than you think it is.”

“I know.”

“So,” he said. “We have a deal then? No more fake exes.”

“No more exes,” you said. “Fake or not.”

“Well, I can’t promise that because I know several women who –”

You pushed his shoulder and laughed. “Not what I meant.”

He laughed with you. “I know.”

“You’re annoying,” you repeated.

“I’ve been told. And seeing as it’s the only true insult you can think of for me, I suppose I’m going to have to take it to heart.”

He was staring, eyes alight with expectation.

“Why do you look like you’re waiting for something?” you asked.

“I am,” he said. “But seeing as the other realisation took you so long, I’m prepared for –”

You leaned in to kiss him before he could finish. He smiled against your mouth, almost laughing before he responded. His hand settled against your waist and you shifted closer to him without thinking, following him when he moved back.

He chuckled and dropped his forehead against your own. “I was starting to think I’d have to spell that one out too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe being smug is one of your flaws.”

“Do you count it as one?”

You kissed him again before he expected you to answer that honestly.

Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase ; @chaeisrichnow ; @aceidentallyinlove ; @ilovedreming ; @moon-shampoo ; @charukii 

His gaze settled on you. “I was unaware we had an appointment.”

“You usually arrive before the afternoon shipment.”

“You noticed.”

You lowered your eyes to the ledger before he could see your expression. “You are difficult not to notice.”

He approached the counter and placed a wrapped parcel on it.

You stared at it.

“No.”

“You have not opened it.” Mihawk removed his gloves. “An unusual approach for a bookseller.”

“You keep bringing me things.”

“That is generally the purpose of a gift.”

The first had been a slim volume of poetry from an eastern island. You had mentioned the author once, nearly six months before, and Mihawk had returned from his next mission with the book tucked beneath his arm.

After that came a bottle of wine no merchant on your island carried. A set of brass page weights. Tea from a winter port. New gloves after he noticed the worn fingertips on yours.

He always presented them without ceremony, as though crossing several seas with something chosen specifically for you required no explanation.

You pulled the parcel closer and loosened the string. The leather binding beneath the paper made your hands stop.

You knew the book immediately.

“Mihawk.”

It was a first edition. You had seen one listed in a collector’s catalogue the previous year and complained for several minutes about the price.

He had been standing near the travel section at the time, appearing more interested in the book in his hand.

Apparently, he had listened.

“This is too much.”

“You wanted it.”

“That does not mean you should buy it for me.”

“Why not?”

You looked at him.

He stood on the other side of the counter, calm and composed, as though there were nothing strange about the greatest swordsman in the world remembering the idle desires of a bookstore clerk.

“Why do you keep doing this?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I believed you would appreciate it.”

Silence settled between you.

Nearly a year ago, while shelving a new collection of romance novels, you had told him love was merely foolishness made respectable by good prose.

He had asked whether you believed that.

You had laughed.

Believing another person would keep choosing you, you had said, was the most foolish part of all.

You had forgotten the conversation until now.

Mihawk had not.

“I return to this island because you are here,” he said.

The words were too direct. Too simple.

You stared at him.

He continued before you could speak.

“My interest in you has not been casual for some time.”

A sharp heat climbed your neck.

You pushed the book away.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I did not intend it to be.”

“You expect me to believe you cross the sea to visit a woman who sells you books?”

“I expect you to believe that I have told you the truth.”

“You could have anyone.”

His expression hardened.

“That has nothing to do with whom I want.”

Anger rose before you could stop it. It was easier than believing him. Easier than letting yourself consider how carefully he listened or how often his visits had become the best part of your month.

“You’ll tire of this,” you said. “Whatever novelty you think you’ve found here.”

Mihawk watched you for a long moment before he picked up his gloves.

“I will not defend feelings you have already decided are false.”

He left the book on the counter.

The bell rang behind him.

For the next six weeks, it rang for everyone except Mihawk.

You began looking up every time the door opened. You set aside a history of ancient swordsmanship he would have liked and kept it beneath the counter.

The chair he preferred remained empty.

You opened the wine he had brought you and discovered it did not taste as good alone.

When Mihawk finally returned to the island, he did not enter the bookstore.

You saw him through the window crossing the street.

By the time you reached him, you were breathless.

“Mihawk.”

He stopped.

His eyes moved over you, but he said nothing.

“I have wine at home.”

He glanced at the case in his hand.

“Yes.”

“I thought you might drink mine.”

One eyebrow lifted.

“With me,” you added.

His attention sharpened.

“At your home?”

You nodded. “Unless you have somewhere more important to be.”

“No.”

The answer came immediately.

Your house was small and crowded with books. Mihawk noticed every gift he had given you before he removed his coat.

The brass weights sat on your desk. The tea was beside the stove. The gloves he had given you hung near the door. The first edition rested on the table.

His gaze stopped on the history of ancient swordsmanship beside the first edition.

“That one is for you,” you said.

Mihawk looked at you.

“I bought it after you left.”

His gaze returned to the book. “I see.”

You poured the wine with unsteady hands.

“I shouldn’t have said you would tire of me.”

Mihawk was quiet for a moment. “You were frightened.”

“I was.” You set the bottle down. “But you were telling me the truth, and I treated you as though you weren’t.”

His eyes stayed on you.

“I missed you.”

Something changed in his face. It was slight, but you had spent a year learning him.

Mihawk set down his glass.

You approached before fear could stop you and touched the front of his shirt.

“I still don’t know what I believe.”

“Then do not make promises.”

His voice had gone lower.

“What should I do?”

“Decide what you want now.”

You rose onto your toes and kissed him. For the smallest moment, Mihawk did not move.

Then his hand came to your face.

He kissed you back with enough force that your breath caught. His other arm circled your waist and drew you against him, closing the last of the space between you.

You reached for his shoulders.

Mihawk angled your face and kissed you again.

There was nothing tentative about it now. His mouth moved over yours slowly at first, as though he had no intention of allowing the moment to become hurried. Then his tongue brushed across your lower lip.

You parted for him without thinking.

His hand moved from your jaw into your hair, fingers spreading against the back of your head as his tongue slid against yours.

You had imagined kissing him before. More times than you cared to admit.

You had never imagined Mihawk wanting it this badly.

His mouth left yours only long enough to move along your cheek and the line of your jaw. Your head tipped back when his lips reached the side of your neck.

“Mihawk.”

He lifted his head at the sound of his name. This time you kissed him with more confidence, your tongue meeting his, and a quiet sound left him.

Mihawk took your face between both hands and kissed you with a hunger that made your knees feel unreliable.

When he pulled back his eyes were dark.

His thumb moved over your lower lip.

You caught it lightly between your teeth.

Mihawk stared at you.

The silence lasted exactly long enough for you to realize you had made a mistake.

He caught your mouth once more. When he drew back, you were still pressed against him, both of you breathing harder now.

“I did not realize you were so impatient,” you murmured.

Mihawk’s expression changed by barely a degree.

“My patience is the only reason this did not happen months ago.”

You blinked.

He looked entirely serious.

“You wanted to kiss me months ago?”

“I have wanted considerably more than that.”

Heat rushed into your face.

Mihawk watched it happen without mercy.

“But,” he continued, quieter now, “you had already made your opinion of love quite clear. I had no intention of pressing myself upon a woman determined to expect my departure.”

The words struck somewhere painfully tender.

Your hand slid from his shoulder to the side of his neck.

“I’m still afraid you will.”

“I know.”

His fingers moved lightly through the hair at your temple.

“You asked what you should do now.”

You nodded.

Mihawk leaned down until his mouth was barely touching yours.

“This,” he said, “seems an adequate beginning.”

You kissed him before he could say anything else.

This time, you felt him smile.

When you finally drew back, you stayed close enough that your nose brushed his.

“Will you come back after your next mission?”

Mihawk looked at you for a long moment. Then he turned his head and pressed a kiss into your palm.

“I always intended to.”

“Just some light reading, not studying,” you said. “And it’s interesting.”

Law glanced over at you and then reached over your shoulder and flipped the book open. Pages of anatomy stared back at you, reminding you just why you’d been falling asleep.

“I noticed a few of my textbooks were missing,” he said, his voice low.

You were feeling very aware of how close he was; his chest brushed lightly against your back, close enough that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, his arm braced on the desk in front of you, boxing you in without quite touching.

You didn’t look up at him, watching his fingers turn the pages in front of you. You could feel his attention shift from the book to you, lingering there longer than it needed to.

“You left your office door open,” you said in a very weak defence.

“I’ve never left it open.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up into a guilty smile. “I suppose old habits die hard.”

He hummed and the sound rolled through you. “Why do you need medical journals?”

You could see the micromovements in his jaw and they distracted you just long enough that Law tilted his head toward you, waiting for the answer.

“I’m getting a little bored with not knowing what everybody’s talking about,” you admitted, a little embarrassed by the acknowledgement but not enough to lie. “I wanted to learn a little more so I could join the conversation.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “No one will exclude you for it.”

“What if I want to?”

You saw the faintest smile appear on his face, only for a second, before it was gone again. “Are you struggling with it?”

“Not really. It’s just a bit boring at times to go over all the proper names.”

“Most of the names aren’t complicated, just unfamiliar. Look at this.”

You dragged your eyes away from his face to look at where he’d stopped – paused over a double-page diagram of the human body with hundreds of names scrawled in the margin. He traced over the image with his fingers.

“I recognise a few,” you admitted. “From before I fell asleep.”

“Sometimes it helps to be more physical,” he said. “And to feel them in your own body. This is the clavicle.”

Law brought his hand up and trailed his fingers along your collarbone. Your heart stuttered and you stilled as he moved his touch toward the center of your chest, caressing the area right below your throat.

“The sternum.”

His hand lingered there for a second before moving again; his skin was so cold but that alone wasn’t making you shiver. He brought his hand higher, caressed your throat before he tapped on your jaw. “Mandible.”

Your breath caught. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes glinting faintly. “Just helping you remember the name. I promise this helps.” He dragged his fingers down the side of your neck slowly, putting just enough pressure to send tingles down your spine. “This is called the platysma.”

You caught his hand before it could get lower, lacing your fingers through his own and tugging him more around you. He went without much protest, stepping around you to lean against the desk. There was a faint red on his ears but he still smiled at you.

“I didn’t catch the last one,” you said.

“It’s a muscle, not a bone,” he admitted.

“You’ve jumped a little too far ahead then.”

“Then you should pay attention.”

He flipped his hand over in yours, palm bared to you. You traced your fingers over it while he watched you.

“Do you know how many bones are in the human hand?”

“I’ve never counted.”

“Twenty-seven,” he said. He flexed each of his fingers slowly. “It can be very tricky to count.”

Your heart was now going at an unhealthy pace. Law caught your wrist gently and pulled you forward, guiding you up from your seat. He brought your hand to his chest, pressing your palm flat against the skin exposed by his loosely buttoned shirt. The fabric shifted under your fingers as he moved, leaving your hand against bare skin, warm despite everything else about him.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your palm, solid and unhurried, close enough that it started to pull your own into rhythm.

“Is there going to be a test about this?” you asked in a low voice.

“If it helps you learn better.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you said. “I don’t know if I’m going to remember a single thing you’re saying right now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That defeats the purpose of studying.”

“It’s entirely your fault. I was learning quite well before you arrived.”

“Then show me.”

He let go of your arm and propped himself against the desk, waiting curiously. You hated to admit you were becoming fond of the incredible smugness in his smirk. It stirred something in your stomach that made you smile.

You glanced briefly past his shoulder toward the open book on his desk before you moved. Slowly, one by one, you undid the last few buttons he’d bothered with, slipping your hand under the fabric, your fingers dragging over his side, following the line of his ribs as the shirt shifted out of the way. His breath stuttered but he didn’t move.

“Ribs,” you said teasingly. Then you stepped closer to him, hand sliding around his torso to press between his shoulder blades, feeling the subtle movement there as he breathed, the tension under your fingertips shifting when he tried to stay still. “And the spine.”

The red was beginning to appear over his cheeks but before you moved away, he caught your arm, holding you where you were. “Which vertebrae?”

You ran your fingers across his back thoughtfully, humming and not missing the way his breath stuttered. Your eyes flicked to the book for just a second before you answered.

“Thoracic.”

Law’s eyes jumped to your lips, hovering there for a second too long before he spoke. “Don’t cheat.”

“I would never.”

He raised a hand to the side of your neck and pushed further, brushing beneath your hair to press against the back of your neck, right below your skull. “Then what’s this called.”

You were tempted to look at the book just for fun but he was watching too closely. “A tease.”

He chuckled and tugged at your hair lightly, causing a shocked breath to escape from you. “You’re an awful student.”

“You’re a very distracting teacher.”

“You know more than you think. For example, if you wanted to kill me with a blade, how would you do it?”

You frowned, curious but willing to engage with the new topic. You thought about it for a second before you brought your free hand closer and tapped the front of his neck. “I suppose there are different ways. If I wanted to slit your throat, I’d bring a knife somewhere here.”

“Why?”

“You’d bleed out faster and it’s a harder location to protect with armour.”

You felt his throat bob gently under your touch as he swallowed before answering. “There’s a major vein there. But there’s no injury to the throat you cannot survive if you get efficient medical treatment.” Your fingers stayed there a moment longer than necessary, close enough to feel his pulse.

You smiled and brought your hand lower, pressed flat against his left pec. “So, the heart then? But with all this bone and clothing in the way, it would be harder.”

Law placed his hand over your own and shifted it, pressing your index fingers between two of his ribs. “Not if you went in here.”

“Wouldn’t I hit your lung before your heart?”

“It depends on the angle of your blade.”

You flipped your hand, interlacing your fingers with his own, and unable to stop your smile. “I’m learning more about why you’re called the surgeon of death. This is the strangest pillow talk I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s meant to be teaching, not flirting.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes, playfully shocked about how easily he lied to you. Then you reached your free hand for your collarbone. “This is the clavicle, right?”

He nodded.

You ran your fingers lower, touching between your breasts, much lower than he had. “The sternum.”

“Yes.”

“So much for an awful student then.”

“Two out of two hundred and six,” he said. “You’re a prodigy.”

You laughed softly. “I’d ask you to prove to me how many you know but I don’t want to boost your ego.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his thumb shifted slightly against your skin, absentminded, like he’d forgotten he was touching you at all.

He leaned in without warning, his mouth firm and insistent against your own. You moaned softly against him, any thoughts of an anatomy book disappearing from your mind as he brought you closer. Your fingers tightened reflexively in his shirt, a quiet sound catching in your throat.

The air shifted and the next step you took didn’t land where it should have. The room folded around you without resistance, the space between one breath and the next rearranged to suit Law’s will.

“That’s lazy,” you murmured, barely pulling back. “I could have walked.”

“You would have taken too long.”

You tilted your head, brushing your lips against his again, slower this time. He didn’t resist. If anything, his hand pressed more firmly at your side as he drew you back in. The back of your legs met the bed and you shifted, pulling him with you.

The next morning, you woke up slowly. Mid-morning had crept up on you and brought with it a slight chill to the air. An empty bed to one side and a mug, still steaming to the other. You smiled to yourself and reached for the drink only to notice a small stack of papers with a pen beside them.

You picked it up and read the front, your eyebrow lifting slightly at the words written neatly across the top. An open book test with a due-by date that gave you until the night.

You huffed out a quiet laugh and picked up the mug, the warmth of it settling into your hands as you skimmed the first question. Annoyingly specific.

You glanced toward the empty side of the bed, the sheets still slightly rumpled where he’d been. You set the paper back down with a small smile. If this was how he planned on teaching you, you weren’t in any hurry to pass.

The problem was, it wasn’t obvious. Because the rest of the crew had no idea that less than an hour ago, you’d been sitting in his lap with his hand slowly slipping beneath your shirt. They had no clue you spent several nights in his office for nothing related to work.

The oppressive silence got you to raise your head. The metal tray beside you rattled softly when you bumped it.

Bepo was staring, his paws over his muzzle. Various expressions of excitement, sympathy, and panic made you pause before you realised what answer you’d given.

“Wait. Wait, that’s not – ”

“You’re in love with our captain!” Shachi said. “That’s so sweet!”

“Very romantic,” Bepo said. “You should tell him. I think he likes you too.”

“I don’t know if he’s interested in relationships though,” Penguin mentioned.

“He just needs to experience it,” Shachi insisted.

You cleared your throat, panic rising in your chest. Law was painfully private and the last thing you wanted was the crew turning this into spectacle before you’d asked him about it. You couldn’t help but feel bad for blurting something like that out.

“Hold on a second,” you said. “I never mentioned love. I meant it in a like respect way.”

“I asked about dating anyone in the world,” Shachi corrected. “Which I would never do but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. And if he likes you too…”

Ikkaku looked up from her own practice gash. “You can’t assume that.”

“I’ll go ask,” Bepo said.

He got up and hurried to the door before you could even realise what was happening. You jumped to your feet the second it clicked, rushing after him and scattering your instruments over the ground.

“Bepo! Wait! You can’t just ask that!”

He was already halfway down the corridor, boots thudding against the metal floor in quick, uneven beats. You rushed after him, your shoulder clipping the wall as the narrow hallway forced you into a straight line.

Seas, if he said anything to Law, you might just die then and there.

You caught up with him right as he stepped into Law’s office and you bolted in after him, half panting. The door swung open to the low, steady scratch of pen against paper. Law sat behind his desk, the lamplight pooling across scattered notes and casting sharp shadows beneath his eyes.

“Bepo, don’t you dare!”

He looked up from his medical journal, expression very unamused at the sudden outbreak of noise. “What is going on?”

Bepo rocked back and forth, glancing between you and the captain. You gave him a sharp look, practically begging him not to say anything. He tilted his head, confused.

“It’s nothing,” you reassured. “Just… Can I borrow Bepo, please? It’s urgent.”

Law watched you expectantly and you tried your hardest to explain in a look. Or at least reassure him that you would tell him later when you didn’t have half of the crew hovering outside his office door.

He waved his hand. “Try to be quieter about it.”

Bepo didn’t move. “Captain, do you like women?”

“What?”

You grabbed Bepo’s paw and practically hauled him from the office. Embarrassment burned hot on the back of your neck and you slammed the door behind you. He’d complain about that later but right now, you really couldn’t care less.

“You can’t do that,” you hissed. “What do you all think you’re doing?”

“I think it would be good if you tell him,” Bepo said. “I remember him saying before that he’s very fond of you.”

“And it would be good for him,” Shachi agreed.

“Most girls want the man to confess first,” Ikkaku said. “She obviously doesn’t want you to blurt out her interest if you don’t even know what he’ll say. You’re such boars sometimes.”

“I really think we should just pretend I never spoke,” you implored. “Please.”

Or at least give you a few minutes to bring it up with the man in question. You had no idea how Law would react to this and would really appreciate giving him a heads-up if they planned to invade his office with strange questions.

“He’s definitely interested,” Uni agreed. “We could try getting him to confess.”

“Yeah, that should be easy!” Penguin enthused.

This was going to be how you died. You were sure of it.

You followed them back into one of the operating rooms, fully convinced you would just gather your instruments and leave when a white board was dragged in behind you. One you certainly had never seen before.

“What are you doing?”

Half the crew was here. More actually. You had somehow wound up with more people surrounding you than you had seen the entire evening and that did nothing to soothe the embarrassment burning through your chest.

“Right,” Penguin said as he stood in the front like a teacher giving a presentation. “I think if we work together, we can do anything.”

“There’s nothing to be done.”

They ignored you entirely and you hovered, not certain if you should bolt from the room or wait and see what you’d caused.

He picked up a marker and drew a very questionable stick figure wearing a hat. “Our first problem is the captain is emotionally repressed.”

“That’s not…” you trailed off. “Okay, that’s a little true but not relevant.”

He drew a second stick figure, identical to the first. “And you are also emotionally repressed.”

“I am not. Also, why do I look like him?”

“Because you’re in love and when that happens, you start imitating your loved one.”

“I don’t own a hat even remotely similar to that.”

Ikkaku hummed from where she’d swung a chair around to watch. “If he’s emotionally repressed, he might struggle with large crowds. Maybe we should find some way to give them privacy together.”

“Like a closet?” Uni suggested.

“Maybe they can sit together at dinner?” Bepo suggested.

“We already do that,” you pointed out. “All the time. We also work together so we have plenty of alone time.”

They didn’t hear you, not for a second. This wasn’t going to stop. And if you stayed, it would only get worse. You stepped out of the room, shaking your head and hoping that whatever plans they came up with, you had no part in them.

You marched straight into Law’s office and pushed the door open. He lifted his head. “Finally ready to explain what’s going on?”

“They’re trying to set us up,” you said. “They think I’m secretly in love with you and want us to go out.”

He chuckled, a low and quiet sound. “I suppose Bepo’s question makes some sense.”

“What do I do?”

“You could – ”

But you had no time to answer because somebody knocked at his office door. You groaned. “If they find me in here, they’re never going to stop,” you muttered.

He shrugged and held up his hand. Room expanded around you and you let out a small sigh of relief when you found yourself in the hall instead. You were certain that they’d find something new and interesting to focus on soon.

This was temporary.

Unfortunately, temporary still meant that the next morning, you stepped out the women’s quarters and nearly walked straight into Penguin who had clearly been waiting for you.

“We’ve been thinking,” he said and you gave him a look. “But maybe the captain likes you and doesn’t realise it. If we give him a small push, he’ll realise and confess to you all by himself.”

“Or you could leave it be.”

“We have a plan. You just need to trust us.”

You didn’t trust a single word they said. Especially not when you were brought to a very small supply closet before you even got a chance to have breakfast. You blinked at the open door and the tiny space.

“Penguin, tell me that you’re not attempting to lock our captain, who has a devil fruit that allows him to teleport, into a closet with me.”

He laughed. “He won’t if it’s the perfect opportunity to talk to you.”

You could hear footsteps approaching and Penguin’s expression turned more desperate. He kept glancing over your shoulder and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. This as so stupid. There was no way Law would even fall for this in the first place and yet…

“It’s for you,” Penguin whispered. “Come on. We’ve got to try.”

“This is how you get your organs rearranged,” you warned him.

Though if it would get them to stop… you stepped into the cupboard with a grumble. At least there was some space in there. Penguin hurried to close the door behind you.

“Here we are,” you heard Shachi announce. “It’s um… this one here. If you want to take a look.”

They were awful at this.

You heard Law’s annoyed sigh and wondered how long it would be before he just left. “Is this meant to be some kind of joke?”

“Not at all! It’s just… uh…”

The door opened and he stepped inside. They scrambled in the hall, clearly fighting to get the lock closed. You both watched the handle shake for a second and you almost laughed out loud. Had they actually planned this?

Law glanced toward you. “Are you supposed to be the rat problem then?”

“Is that really the excuse they gave you?” you asked. “They couldn’t have found anything better?”

“I knew it was nonsense but I was curious. Do you think they’re aware that I could just use shambles regardless of the door?”

“I told them that but…”

“We’re still here. Why are we being locked in small rooms together?”

You shrugged and lowered your voice to a whisper. “I imagine they’re trying incite me to confess something.”

His eyes flicked toward your lips. The wall pressed lightly into your back as he braced an arm beside your head, closing off what little space you had left. Heat gathered where your bodies nearly met, the tension sharp and immediate.

“This might have been entertaining,” he breathed into your ear. “If it wasn’t for your very captive audience outside.”

Your heart stuttered hard. Lazily, you reached up to take off his hat, plopping it on your head instead.

“I’m taking suggestions on shaking them. They’ve been on my case the whole morning.”

“Have they now? So, this wasn’t your plan?”

“If I wanted something like this, I would have invited you here myself.”

Law leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a teasing excuse for a kiss. You caught his coat before he could move back and tugged him closer for a proper one. His hand found your waist as he deepened it.  

His leg slotted between your own and a quiet sound slipped from you before you could stop it. He moved away with a smug smirk.

“Seeing as it wasn’t your idea though, I trust you to handle it,” he said and the hand on your back moved.

Shambles moved you through space itself. Your footing vanished for half a second before slamming back into place, balance catching just as your body collided lightly against his. He steadied you before stepping away.

Half the crew were crowded around the door to the storage room, too busy arguing in whispers to notice.

He took his hat back and nodded at you, eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Don’t damage that door,” he said as he walked past.

Everybody jumped and you sighed in disappointment as at least two people fell.

Breakfast brought a very temporary peace and you had a few moments to yourself – hoping to rid the arousal from your veins caused by a certain doctor – before Bepo sat down in front of you, his paws pressed together. He looked very serious and also like he was about to start crying which worried you somewhat.

“Can you fish?” he asked.

You sighed. Why had you even thought it might about something else…

“I’m not giving Law a fish if that’s where you’re going with this.”

“It doesn’t have to be about the fish. It’s more about proving you have the ability to provide,” he said and tapped on the table with his claws. “I really think it could work. He would be very flattered that you want to offer him something he might need.”

“Can you imagine his expression if I just showed up to his office with a dead fish?”

“I think he might be impressed.”

“And I think he might medicate me.”

Bepo sighed dramatically. “I think it might be worth a try. That and headbutts but his hat kind of gets in the way.”

“Humans also don’t headbutt each other randomly,” Ikkaku said as she sat down next to you. “That’s terrible advice either way. I think you should try and work out his type first and go from there.”

You gave her a look. “He barely tolerates people as it is. I don’t think he has a type.”

“I do but it generally doesn’t include gossiping about me.”

Ikkaku and Bepo both jumped and you sighed as he took his usual seat next to you. Maybe the ground could swallow you whole and you could fall into the sea. Drowning felt like it might be an easier death than whatever this was.

“She hurt herself, captain,” Ikkaku said. “You should take some time to look at her hand. Might need stitches.”

Law gave you a look. “Did you?”

The embarrassment was burning you up. Where had she come up with that now?

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you’re injured?” he said.

“I actually just remembered that I have to do something,” you said, jumping to your feet. “I’ll catch up with you guys at lunch.”

You didn’t even make it to lunch without another situation descending upon you in the form of both Shachi and Penguin. They flanked you on either side, expressions far too excited for men that you were considering pushing overboard.

“Do you think the captain is the jealous type?” Shachi asked.

“I think he’s the type to swap your heads if you don’t stop this.”

Penguin ignored you. “But if he is – ”

“He’s not.”

“Then that would be the best way to get him to confess.”

“You’re not getting him to confess anything. You’re digging a grave for yourself and everybody else on the crew.”

“Maybe, but once he learns we’re trying to help, I think he’ll be happy,” Shachi said. “But first, we need a controlled test.”

“What test?”

“A jealousy test.”

You stopped walking and gave them both a look. “This plan feels like a good way to make absolutely nobody happy.”

“We just want to help you fulfil your love,” Penguin defended. “And the captain too. He won’t say anything about it but he really does like you. Bepo asked and he said it.”

For a second, that softened you a little. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Shachi said. “So this is the perfect way to get him to realise he needs to say something before you’re lost forever. Step one, we find somebody to flirt with you.”

Your good graces disappeared immediately. “No.”

“It’s light flirting. Nothing serious. Just enough for him to go, ‘damn, I should make my move before she’s gone for good’.”

“Not a chance.”

“Who’s the best flirt on the crew?” Penguin asked.

You crossed your arms. “Honestly, after today, I dread any one of you being allowed to have romantic interactions at all.”

“That’s harsh,” he huffed. “But it’s fine. We can practise first.”

“What?”

“I’ll pretend to be you,” Shachi said. “And we can roleplay the whole thing. We don’t even need good flirting because it’s fake, right?”

“Somehow, it not being good flirting feels worse.”

Penguin brightened. “What if we set up an accidental touch? Like you can fall and somebody catches you that isn’t the Captain? He always likes to help you when you’re struggling with things so this is perfect.”

“I… somehow think that’s going to end with somebody in pieces.”

“If he tells you that he’s interested in you, you won’t be heartsore anymore,” Shachi said. “And we’ve been wondering why you always go to your quarters so early in the evening and stare into space sometimes.”

They really did think they were helping. You steepled your fingers together and tried to focus on their good intentions rather than anything else.

“Nobody is flirting with me,” you said. “And I have other reasons for sneaking off all the time and staring.”

They also had to do with the captain but a few steps further into the relationship than your usual pining.

“Okay, what if we just mention somebody is interested when he’s in earshot.”

“Just no.”

Thankfully, they took the hint on the jealousy thing. Or, they were far too scared of the captain’s reaction to actually try it which was definitely helped by him shooting a very sharp glare toward anybody in your vicinity that afternoon.

But it was only a matter of time before they tried something new.

You arrived at the dining hall, late for dinner even, and found it to be eerily empty. There was no loud chatting or bad jokes. Just two plates sitting atop a table with a light pointed directly at them and one or two lopsided candles. You imagined this was supposed to be romantic but really, it looked more like the set of a horror novel.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned, allowing Law to see what had been laid out with the most unimpressed expression imaginable.

He raised an eyebrow. “Subtle. I thought I chose my crew for their intelligence.”

“I really hope it wasn’t for their sneaking skills,” you said, loud enough for the shuffling footsteps outside the door to hear.

The whispers fell quiet and you shook your head.

“I clearly have to find something for them to do if they have time enough to waste on this,” Law said but he approached the table regardless. “Is this meant to be a date?”

“I’m more wondering where we got candles from,” you said.

You followed him, shooting one sharp look toward the door where four heads immediately pulled back. This was starting to get a little overbearing.

“I think we had some for potential power loss. Not really an appropriate use of them though.”

You took your seat at his side, shoulders bumping and your back to the door. “You’re so lucky they’re not badgering you more. I haven’t known peace since last night.”

“What did you say?”

“They asked if I could date anybody, who would it be because they were looking at wanted posters and I said you.”

He chuckled. “Naturally.”

That smug smile would be the death of you with the things it did to your heart. You nudged him with your elbow. “Yes but they’ve now decided I’m doomed to unrequited love and only hours away from dropping dead from heartbreak.”

“It might not be as impossible as you’re imagining. It presents rather like a heart attack. Should I take your heart out for some closer monitoring.”

You shook your head. “I’d prefer you didn’t. Honestly, it would be far easier if I just told them.”

“So, why haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

Law gestured over his shoulder toward the watching crowd and they scrambled to hide. You heard a loud thump and a soft groan of pain.

“If they’re bothering you so much, tell them that we’re already together and they’ll drop it.”

You watched him carefully, eyes tracing the details of his unaffected face before you answered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with it and I haven’t gotten an opportunity to talk to you about it. Considering… you know.”

“Why would I care what they know?”

“Because you won’t even tell them your favourite colour.”

“I don’t have one.”

“See.”

He sighed. “The reason they don’t know that is because it doesn’t matter. There’s no situation where it’ll be of vital importance for them to know my favourite colour or else they’ll face immediate death.”

You laughed softly. “Always the optimist.”

His hand came up without warning, fingers firm against your jaw as he tilted your face toward his. “This though is far more important than a colour.” His thumb brushed gently over your skin, skimming your bottom lip. “Because they should understand the consequences if anything ever happens to you. Or if they continue to bother you about this nonsense.”

His eyes flicked toward the door once more and nobody moved; the whole crew frozen and staring inside as though invisible.

Your heart felt like it was pumping out honey and you leaned in to press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard.”

A flush of pink immediately rushed to his cheeks. He let go of you immediately but the damage had been done.

Everybody poured into the dining hall, voices bouncing across the deck. Questions hit you from every direction, loud and overlapping, impossible to follow. Law’s eye twitched at the sudden volume and you couldn’t help but laugh. You supposed, if nothing else, they would be focused on both of you now.

“Wait, you… since when?!” Shachi spluttered.

Penguin grabbed his best friend’s shoulders. “I told you there was chemistry already! You said there’s no way that the captain could have confessed!”

“I thought he’d need a push!”

“You locked us in a closet!” you snapped.

“And it worked!”

“It did not work because of the closet! We’ve been together for months!”

“Captain!” Bepo rushed forward. “How long have you been in love and not told us?!”

“I didn’t say anything about that,” Law said flatly.

You glanced at him with a teasing smile. “Oh?”

He glanced back, unimpressed. “Don’t start.”

Ikkaku leaned in, her eyes narrowed. “So who confessed first? We need to hear the whole story you’ve been hiding from us!”

Law stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could escape, laughing. “Oh no, you don’t. You said this was important information for them to have.”

He gave you a long look before he sat back down.

“I regret this already,” he muttered.

“Too late,” you said.

The noise was actually quite nice when you were part of it and really, it didn’t seem like your captain minded that much either. If you looked close enough, you almost caught the faintest smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t kill him,” you said, turning your attention back to your drink. “I’m just… irritated.”

“At him?”

“No.”

You weren’t really certain what exactly was irritating you, to be honest. Law hadn’t done anything particularly irritating and you had no real problem with any of the Straw Hats. They were a little rowdy but that wasn’t the worst thing… it was just that every time you heard snippets of conversation involving history, it made you vaguely annoyed.

The more you thought of it, the more you did know what was irritating you. And it wasn’t something even in the realm of logical.

Which didn’t make it better.

“So, Robin,” you said.

Zoro frowned at you. “Robin?”

“You should know her,” you told him. “Is she… nice?”

What a stupid thing to ask, really. You cursed yourself for the ridiculous question but at least it seemed to somewhat go over his head. He shrugged.

“Guess so. Why?”

“I was just wondering. I felt like you should know considering she’s on your crew.”

He didn’t respond and you sighed to yourself. Honestly, you didn’t know what you were thinking. Both the times you’d met the Straw Hat Pirates before now, you’d realised that Zoro didn’t have much of an opinion on the social dynamics of his crew.

You looked at your empty tankard and swung your legs off the table to get another.

“Mind grabbing me a second one?” he asked, one eye open.

“Don’t you mean a fourth?”

“You counting?”

You had been out of curiosity more than anything else. Thankfully, no sooner had you approached the table with various foods and drinks laid out and Sanji offered to pour you something, only mildly grumbling when you asked after something for Zoro too.

While you waited, you leaned back against the table and looked around the Thousand Sunny.

Lantern light swayed gently overhead, throwing warm gold across the deck while music and laughter drifted between clusters of pirates. Plates crowded every available surface and somebody had already started a drinking competition near the railings. Beyond them, the sea stretched dark and endless beneath the stars.

It was a lovely ship.

You hadn’t spent enough time aboard it to properly appreciate it before now but the open space alone felt like a luxury. The Straw Hats had somehow turned half the deck into a feast and there was still room for people to move around without colliding with each other.

Beside the Sunny, the Polar Tang rose and fell with the waves.

You loved the submarine. You always would.

But looking at it from here made it very easy to remember that most of your life was spent inside a giant metal tube.

“Are you and the captain fighting?”

You jumped at Bepo’s sudden appearance, swatting at him in protest for the minor heart attack he’d given you. “Please tell me before you do that,” you complained. “And no?”

Why would he think that? Law and you certainly hadn’t been fighting before you boarded the Thousand Sunny. Quite the opposite. He’d liked your choice of outfit enough that if you moved the fabric too much, a fresh bruise might show on your collarbone.

Bepo didn’t look convinced, tapping his claws together. “I’m worried,” he said. “You’ve both been glaring for a while now. Ikkaku thought you might have argued.”

“Glaring?” you said. “We’ve barely spoken the whole evening.”

“I know. That’s the weird part,” he said, voice quiet.

“We’re fine,” you promised.

You were. There was nothing to really be upset with Law about… he hadn’t done anything wrong. The strange annoyance curling beneath your ribs wasn’t something you could blame on him anyway. You looked over to him, still deep in conversation with Robin whose faint smile made something curl in your chest.

Jealousy? It felt vaguely familiar enough to be even though logically you knew there was no reason to be.

“This is for mosshead,” Sanji said, putting a tankard down next to you. “Tell him to get the next one himself rather than bothering a lady to do it.”

You glanced at the drink. “Is this watered down?”

“He won’t know the difference.”

Bepo was frowning at you. “I think you should go and talk to the captain,” he said. “Just in case.”

“He’s in the middle of a conversation,” you countered though you knew you didn’t have to avoid him. “Besides, I don’t have enough energy to handle Straw Hat right now.”

“That’s fair,” Sanji commented. “Luffy can be a bit loud at times but you get used to it.”

Bepo tapped his claws together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said. “Bepo, I’m fine. I’m having a great time. This ship is actually really nice.”

“I can imagine it’s considerably better than a submarine,” Sanji said. “No offense intended but it does seem a little cramped for such a large crew.”

You couldn’t deny it. The Polar Tang had been an adjustment even if you wouldn’t trade it away for the world. The Heart Pirates were hardly a small crew and they could certainly be enthusiastic in a way that echoed in a metal submarine.

That didn’t make you love them any less.

“I do like the open air,” you admitted. “And I imagine moving furniture around is much easier on a ship like this but I’ve come to see the Tang as a far safer vessel.”

Sanji nodded in acknowledgement. “It’s not for me, chéri, but as long as a beautiful woman is happy, she should stay wherever she pleases.”

“There are other benefits too,” you said. “Brooding swordsman are very good reasons to stick around.”

He rolled his eyes. “We have one of those too. You’re more than welcome to take him back with you. It would certainly make my life far easier.”

“No thank you. One is more than enough but speaking of.” You held up Zoro’s drink. “You okay Bepo?”

“I think so,” he said.

His expression hadn’t really changed, his ears still slightly twitchy like they became when he was feeling anxious, his eyes big and watery. Someday, you should tell him that he looked absolutely terrifying when he pulled that face but you had a feeling it would upset him to know.

The liquid in the tankard almost sloshed over when you shoved it Zoro, sitting by him again and glancing toward Law. You met his eyes and for a second, you stared at your captain across the deck in silence.

Then Straw Hat said something and his attention shifted again.

You breathed out through your nose and refocused on the sky. He was just having a normal conversation and yet, you found yourself mildly annoyed at him. Worse than that, he looked good in this lighting which felt deeply inconsiderate given your mood.

Zoro didn’t speak to you and neither you to him. It wasn’t like you even particularly cared about the swordsman but of all the choices on this crew, he was the quietest.

Yet thirty minutes and two drinks later, Zoro lazily opened an eye and looked over your shoulder. “Your crew’s staring at you like you’re about to jump overboard,” he commented. “Don’t know if you want to deal with that or…”

“What?” you asked.

You turned your head to find the Heart Pirates, who had been spread out mingling, had now gathered together in a small group. A tiny cult formed in the corner of the ship that immediately refocused their attention when you looked over to them.

You breathed out sharply through your nose. “Oh no.”

“Something wrong?”

You sighed. “Whenever they start doing that, I know they’ve got a stupid idea.”

“Sounds like when Luffy and Usopp hold a conversation for suspiciously long,” he muttered. “At least the bear can swim, right?”

“Not that kind of idea,” you said. “It’s usually a theory.”

You looked over at Law and met Robin’s eyes. She said something to him and he turned his head and you looked at the crew. He frowned at their huddle, glancing at you as though you had some kind of answer.

You shrugged helplessly.

He gestured for you to go talk to them and you returned it with a gesture for him to go instead. For a few seconds, you had a standoff, waiting for the other to cave first.

Normally, you would have given in and dealt with the headache before he had to but you had an added motive of kind of wanting him to move away from the Straw Hats. Petty or not, you were particularly stubborn about this.

“Captain,” you mouthed at him, reminding him that they were technically his problem.

He responded with an expression you took to mean they were more likely to talk to you because of that very reason. They didn’t always want to bother him with things and he also dismissed their theories far quicker than you did. You gave him an exhausted look to remind him that you’d dealt with this the last time and that had just made it go on longer.

He narrowed his eyes but you shook your head regardless. He was your captain but you weren’t about to jump to these kinds of problems just because he told you to.

Besides, you were at a party. You held up your drink to show him it was still half full.

“You two always just stare at each other for awkward lengths of time?” Zoro asked.

You froze and realised this must look ridiculous to anybody who witnessed it and didn’t understand. Indeed, most of the Straw Hats were looking mildly confused. Robin laughed behind her hand.

“He won’t go and see what the problem is,” you griped. “Because he’s being stubborn.”

Zoro frowned. “Are you a mind reader or something?”

“No but he’s trying to get me to go and I don’t particularly want to. I’m not the one who’s been sitting still the whole evening.”

Law glanced back at you and raised an eyebrow. You shook your head minutely and he sighed, exasperated, but he stood. It was a minor victory but it relaxed you a little more now that he was walking over to the crew.

Honestly, it was probably better. They listened to him far better than they did to you.

“Right,” Zoro said with a nod. “You got all that through staring?”

“I know him well enough and he’s easy to read,” you defended yourself.

“No. Luffy’s easy to read. I don’t know what that was.”

You couldn’t particularly argue with him about that because admittedly, you didn’t always find Law easy to read. Sometimes he was quite impossible. But that was only when he was in a particularly bad mood.

“He’s annoying me tonight,” you relented. “So, I’m also more aware of him.” It was a poor excuse but it was the best you had.

“Why?”

“Because he’s over there.”

“So, go over there.”

“No, I – ”

The whispering from your crew had become sharper and you turned your head toward them to find the enthusiasm was very much being directed toward you. Penguin was directly gesturing toward you; his attention locked on Law. Law’s jaw twitched and he turned to you, crystal clear in what he wanted. You sighed and stood.

“Wish me luck,” you muttered, grabbing your knife.

“Don’t stab people on deck. Franky doesn’t shut up about it.”

You strolled toward the circle, already knowing this had to be something ridiculous from your captain’s expression. What idea they had come up with now…

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Law sighed. “Stop whining about it to me and ask her then.”

It was good to hear his voice. After avoiding it for the whole evening, you hadn’t realised just how much you missed it until now. You smiled faintly before you looked toward the crew, scanning for the weakest link.

“Yes?”

It turned out to be Shachi because the second you stared at him for too long, he blurted out, “Are you planning on leaving the crew?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Bepo said – ”

“Not that you were leaving,” Bepo hurried to say. “But that we should make sure you didn’t want to. You said you liked their ship more than ours!”

“For moving furniture around, yes,” you said. “What does that have to do with me leaving the crew?”

Law frowned at you. “Why are you moving furniture around?”

“I’m not. I was just saying that it would be easier on a ship like this because the doors are wider,” you said. “Last week, it was an absolute pain to drag the broken bench out of my room because of how narrow the door was.”

“I could have used shambles for that.”

“I wasn’t going to bother you about a bench.”

“You’re also sitting with their swordsman,” Uni said accusingly. “So how are we meant to know you’re not considering their group?”

“We have a swordsman who I prefer,” you reminded him. “But there are like two quiet people on this ship and one of them was busy.”

“You could have joined us,” Law said.

“You were having a conversation.”

“Not one that didn’t have space for you. I made space for you to join me multiple times.”

“No, you didn’t?”

Had he? You had to admit that you’d been so focused on not being caught staring at him that you hadn’t really been paying much attention to the subtle ways he’d normally have invited you to join him.

“And the two of you have been glaring at each other the entire night,” Ikkaku said. “So, we thought maybe you were arguing about something.”

“Which might make you leave because you’re so desperately in love with the captain,” Penguin added in. “And we know that if he said something rude, it would really upset you.”

“Not that he wouldn’t be upset,” Shachi mentioned. “Because he’s obsessed with you and that’s saying something because he’s a bit dense towards women – ”

“Hey,” Law said warningly and they all quietened. “That’s enough. Nobody’s leaving.”

You pressed your lips together to stifle your faint embarrassment. Maybe you had been staring a decent amount but Ikkaku had said that both of you were glaring so that meant… you glanced toward Law and then back at Zoro for a second before realisation hit you.

You brought a hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh as you connected the dots. Oh. Oh that was actually a little embarrassing that you hadn’t noticed.

There was a faint red on the edges of his ears.

“We’re not fighting,” you reassured. “Here, see.”

You pressed a quick, fleeting kiss to Law’s cheek and he immediately flushed, glaring at you briefly before he looked toward your second audience. The Straw Hats were absolutely staring also.

“We’re perfectly normal,” you reassured.

“But the staring – ”

“It’s normal to look at people,” Law said firmly.

The Heart Pirates looked very confused and you placed a hand against his arm. “Normal,” you agreed. “Do you want something to drink?”

He nodded stiffly and you both stepped away, though not before he gave them a warning look. “Stop theorising about nothing.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reiterated. “And there’s nothing wrong with us.”

“Are you sure?” Bepo asked.

You sighed and hurried away, practically hauling him with you and it said something about his own embarrassment that he just followed after you. You fought not to laugh as you whispered, hopefully quiet enough to avoid eavesdropping.

“You’ve been staring at me all night?”

“Apparently it’s a mutual hobby.”

“Talk about it later?”

“Yes. For now, join us. I need some relief from Straw Hat-ya.”

You had clearly underestimated Bepo’s hearing because he swivelled his head to you immediately. “So, something is wrong?”

“No,” you both answered.

The party with the Straw Hats went late enough that your feet ached by the time you finally stepped back aboard the Polar Tang. The quiet felt almost strange after hours of music, shouting, and Luffy's voice carrying effortlessly across an entire ship.

The familiar metal halls hummed softly around you as you made your way toward the captain's quarters.

You were tired. Not exhausted enough to skip checking the corridor three separate times before entering, but tired.

“Be doubly sure,” he said firmly.

You checked once more and then closed the door and finally locked it. For a second, you stared at each other and then you burst into honest laughter. Law shook his head but you didn’t miss the smirk on his face.

“I’m leaving?” you asked.

“Honestly…” he sighed and draped his coat over a chair. “Do you know they had a tally of how often we looked at each other?”

You groaned. “I probably won. I was so ridiculously jealous.”

“Jealous?” he repeated. “Of what?”

“The same thing you were,” you countered.

He didn’t refute you, just sighed and shook his head. “Logically, I know I have nothing to be jealous about. You wouldn’t survive with that crew. Not a single one of them has an ounce of self-preservation. They throw themselves against walls for the fun of it.”

You chuckled and walked closer to him, reaching for his hat. He let you take it and put it on your own head instead. “I know, logically, I have nothing to be jealous about either. And yet…”

“Yet you were.”

“It seems that knowing you’re in love with me and knowing that you’re dense about other women existing isn’t enough for me some days.”

Law gave you an exhausted look. “I know other women exist.”

“I would hope so otherwise you need some new medical books.”

“Ikkaku also lives on this submarine,” he said. “But that aside, you could not possibly have found that swordsman interesting for more than a few sentences.”

“I didn’t,” you said. “But I was already annoyed and wanted some peace which seeing as he was passed out for most of the night, I could get. I like my swordsman far more intelligent. And dark-haired. And attractive. And – ”

“And I like my woman far more like you.”

You paused, momentarily caught off-guard by the sudden compliment. It soothed over some of the tension that still coiled in your heart. “I was upset,” you admitted. “But I still can’t believe they jumped to me leaving.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered. And then, softer, as though it was something that needed confirmation. “Not for something like that.”

“Not ever,” you said.

“That’s not something you can promise.”

“Watch me.”

Law met your gaze for a second and then he sighed. “You have nothing to be upset over. There’s no other person that’s even set foot in this room.”

“I know you love me,” you said. “But that doesn’t stop me from being foolish sometimes.”

“Clearly that’s a trait we share then.”

You hummed and stepped forward, moving into his space just enough for the room to feel considerably smaller than it had. The irritation melted away into something warmer. “You know, I feel considerably better knowing you were jealous too.”

He gave you a blank expression. “I’m not sure you should.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel better to know I was looking at you far more than the swordsman?”

He didn’t answer. It was enough of a confirmation that you laughed softly.

“See, it’s flattering.”

His hand settled at your waist, drawing you a fraction closer to him. “Slightly,” he admitted. “If you were truly jealous though, you could have shown it a bit clearer.”

“Me?” you asked, draping your arms around his neck and moving closer. “What about you? I wouldn’t have minded seeing a little possessiveness.”

“You’d regret asking for that.”

His thumb brushed over your hip before his hand slipped to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his own. Heat curled pleasantly through your stomach and your eyes flicked to his lips for a second, head tilting towards his just slightly.

“There isn’t anyone else,” he said.

“No,” you agreed. “There isn’t. Not ever.”

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. “Good.”

The word barely left his mouth before you leaned in and kissed him.

After an evening spent sharing his attention with an entire ship full of people, you intended to be far greedier with it now.

You had only enough strength left to gasp, “L-Law...” And everything went dark. 

He spun just in time to see you collapse. His heart dropped into his stomach. He flashed to your side in an instant as he caught you before you hit the floor. “Oi! (Y/N). Stay with me.” His voice wavered despite him forcing it steady. But you didn’t answer. Not even a groan. 

His jaw locked. Fury and fear twisted together in his chest. “Shachi! Penguin!” They snapped to attention instantly. “MEDBAY. NOW.” Shachi and Penguin helped carry you. Law quickly decimated the remaining enemies before ordering the sub to descend and rushed to the med bay.  

When he laid eyes on you in the med bay, he was already barking orders and ripping open supplies before anyone could speak. Once the others were kicked out, the med bay fell silent except for the clatter of instruments and the pounding of Law’s heart. 

He refused to let himself sit, refused to let his attention waver even for a second. Every monitor, every IV drip, every tiny twitch of your fingers or flutter of your eyelids demanded his scrutiny. He ran his hands over your pulse, over the lines of your body, over the faint tremor in your lips, as though simply touching you could push the poison out faster. 

Hours stretched on. The lights of the med bay blurred as he worked mechanically, expertly, every movement precise. But beneath the surgeon’s calm, a storm raged. 

He hated feeling helpless. 

Hated seeing you like this, pale, fragile, unconscious, and knowing it was something he couldn’t instantly fix. Each tiny fluctuation in your vitals sent his mind racing, “Are you really stable? Did I miscalculate the dosage? Did I wait too long?” 

Law didn’t allow himself to eat. Didn’t allow himself to drink. Didn’t allow himself to breathe fully until he could see the faintest color return to your cheeks. He barely moved from the side of the bed. If someone had walked in, they would have seen a man hunched over a patient, hair falling over his eyes, face pale, veins faintly visible in his temple from exhaustion, but utterly relentless. 

He muttered under his breath, whispered to you in a voice too low for anyone else to hear, “Steady… steady… stay with me… I’ve got you…” 

The longer you were out, the tighter his chest grew. He hated the thought of losing you, hated the idea that something as simple as a single mistake could take you from him. Every moment you slept, every shallow breath you took, felt like a battle he had to win, and he couldn’t afford to falter. 

Minutes felt like hours, hours like days. His eyes burned, his body ached, but he didn’t notice. He wouldn’t notice. Not until he knew, truly, that you were safe. And when your eyelids finally fluttered, when your gaze slowly refocused on him, the tension that had built over hours threatened to shatter. 

He slumped into the chair beside the bed as if the weight of the last several hours had finally caught him. His hands, rough and calloused from a lifetime of battles, trembled slightly as they rested near yours. He didn’t let go, couldn’t let go, even as exhaustion dragged at him like a tidal wave. 

“Don’t do that again,” he whispered, almost breaking, his voice thick with relief and quiet anger. “Not ever. Do you understand?" Finally letting himself relax for the first time in hours. His hand found yours, gripping it tightly. “I don’t care how careful you are normally… don’t do that. You’re not replaceable.” 

Your eyes filled with tears, both from the pain you’d felt and the overwhelming emotion of seeing him in such distress over you. “I’ll… I’ll be careful,” you promised. 

“You better be,” he muttered, voice rough. “I don’t… I don’t want to see you like that again. Not ever.” 

You reached up, brushing your fingers over his cheek, and he leaned into the touch just slightly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. The silence between you wasn’t empty; it was full of relief, tension released, and unspoken words: fear, care, love, and the deep knowledge that you mattered to each other in ways neither of you said aloud. You slowly closed your eyes again and drifted to sleep.  

He didn’t speak for a while. He just watched you, made sure you were breathing steadily, made sure your color returned to normal, made sure you knew that he would never, ever stop caring. 

Law had spent hours fighting the poison, fighting exhaustion, and fighting the gnawing fear in his chest. But it all melted away in the quiet aftermath. The moment you were awake, stable, and aware of him, he realized something he rarely admitted; you are one of the most important people to him. 

And if you ever tried to put yourself in danger again… he didn’t even want to imagine the lengths he would go to protect you. 

After a while you woke up and whispered, softly, “I love you.”  

Buggy’s gloved fingers tapped against his arm. You had shoved this same idiot overboard three days ago. You had “accidentally” tripped him twice yesterday. You had stolen his bandana this morning and refused to give it back. 

This was not random violence.  

This was a pattern. 

Buggy leaned back, squinting harder. “Why that one?” he muttered to himself. 

On deck, the boy pushed himself up, dusting off his pants. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“And you’re slow.” But you didn’t walk away, you hovered. Buggy saw it, the half-second hesitation. The way you watched him stand. The way your expression shifted before you masked it with a scoff. The clown’s painted grin slowly curled wider. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Buggy did not confront you immediately. 

No, he observed, and he gathered evidence, like a professional. Which was why, two hours later, he kicked open the door to your quarters and pointed dramatically at you. “You.” 

You didn’t even look up from where you were sprawled across his couch. “What.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What is your damage?” 

You blinked slowly. “That’s a broad question.” 

“That boy.”  

You froze. "What about him?” you asked, far too casually. 

“What about him?” Buggy repeated, scandalized. “You’ve been terrorizing the poor fool all week. Pushing him. Insulting him. Stealing his things. You shoved him into a cannon this morning.” 

“It wasn’t loaded.” 

“That’s not the point!” 

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “He’s annoying.” 

“Mm.” 

“You don’t even like him.” 

“Mm.” 

“You literally called him ‘background noise with legs.’” 

Buggy waved a hand dismissively. “That’s different.” 

“How?” 

“I insult everyone.” 

“That doesn’t make it better!” 

He leaned forward, squinting at you like he was trying to see through your skull. “You don’t hate him.” 

You scoffed, “I do.” 

“You absolutely do not.” 

You stood abruptly. “Why do you even care?” 

Buggy blinked, that wasn’t your defensive reaction no that was embarrassed. And suddenly the pieces clicked into place so loudly he was surprised no one else heard it. “You like him,” he said flatly. 

Silence. 

You stared at him. 

He stared back. 

Your face went through three distinct stages: denial, horror, and something dangerously close to panic. “…No.” 

“Oh, you absolutely do.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You tackled him.” 

“I tackle everyone!” 

“You checked if he hit his head.” Your mouth snapped shut. Buggy crossed his arms triumphantly. “Aha.” 

Your shoulders stiffened. “He thinks I’m annoying anyway.” His smug grin faltered, that wasn’t what he expected, not from his confident daughter. The girl who could take on the world and win.  You looked away, jaw tight. “He laughs at everything I say like I’m joking. And he talks about other girls. So it doesn’t matter.” 

There it was insecurity. 

Buggy felt something uncomfortable settle in his chest, you were his daughter. “So, your solution,” he said slowly, “is to assault him.” 

You glared. “It’s not assault.” 

“You shoved him into artillery.” 

You huffed and crossed your arms. “I don’t know how else to act.” 

Buggy straightened immediately, like that sentence had personally offended him. “What do you mean you don’t know how to act?” he scoffed. “You act superior. That’s how. Confidence. Intimidation. Presence.” 

You stared at him. He continued, gesturing dramatically as one hand detached and floated for emphasis. “You walk up to him, flip your hair...” 

“I don’t flip my hair.” 

“metaphorically flip your hair,” he snapped, irritated. “And you inform him that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this crew. Which is true.” 

You gave him a look, flat, unimpressed, and deeply unconvinced. 

Buggy faltered for half a second before doubling down. “People like confidence. I’ve built an entire reputation on it.” 

“You also hide in barrels when Marines show up.” 

“That is strategic evasion.” 

“Dad.” The word wasn’t annoyed but it was tired and maybe a little embarrassed. “I can’t just… declare that I’m amazing and expect him to fall over,” you muttered. “That’s not how it works.” 

Buggy opened his mouth to argue, but closed it. Because… you weren’t wrong. You weren’t him, and you didn’t have to be. He leaned back against your desk, folding his arms, gaze drifting to the side. When he spoke again it was less theatrical. “…Confidence isn’t pretending you’re not scared,” he said. “It’s doing something even when you are.” 

You blinked at him., he avoided your eyes. “If you like him,” he continued, quieter now, “then stop trying to win against him.” 

Your brow furrowed. “Win?” 

“You treat everything like a competition. You shove him, you insult him, you try to get the last word.” His painted grin softened. “That’s not how you show someone you want them around.” 

Silence settled between you. “So what am I supposed to do?” you asked, almost reluctant. 

Buggy exhaled through his nose. “Try not tackling him,” he muttered first. You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious,” he said, looking at you properly now. “Ask him something about himself. Listen to the answer. Don’t turn it into a fight.” 

“That sounds boring.” 

“It’s not boring,” he snapped. “It’s… normal.” 

You shifted your weight. “What if he doesn’t like me back?” 

Buggy’s jaw tightened. “Then you’ll survive it,” he said firmly. “You’re my kid. You can handle someone not choosing you.” Those words hung heavy in the air. “And if he does like you?” He added, softer. “Then he never deserved to be around you in the first place” 

That one landed; you looked at him for a long moment.“…You’re projecting,” you said quietly. 

Buggy bristled. “I am not.” 

“You totally are.” 

He scoffed loudly, but didn’t deny it again. After a beat, he waved a hand dismissively. “Just try being honest. Once. If he’s an idiot about it, I’ll deal with him.” 

“Dad.” 

“I’m kidding,” he said quickly. His detached hand hovered menacingly in midair. “…Mostly.” 

You stepped forward before he could react and wrapped your arms around him in a quick, almost awkward hug and then just as quickly pulled away. Buggy froze, completely. And before he could say anything, before he could make a joke or complain or pretend he hadn’t just short-circuited, you were already halfway out the door. “Thanks Dad!” You called over your shoulder. 

The door slammed and silence filled the room. Buggy stood there for a long moment. “…Anytime,” he muttered to absolutely no one. He cleared his throat, adjusted his coat, and sat back down with an exaggerated sigh. His hand detached again, hovering thoughtfully in the air. “If he makes her cry, I’m launching him.” 

~~~~~~ Extra Scene ~~~~~~~ 

Buggy knew something was wrong immediately. There was no shouting, no crashing, no cannon fire, and no one had been shoved overboard in at least fifteen minutes. 

That alone was deeply unsettling.  

He stood on the upper deck, one foot propped dramatically on the railing, scanning the scene below like a paranoid war general. 

And there you were, sitting. 

Just sitting. 

Next to that guy. 

Talking. 

Calmly. 

Buggy narrowed his eyes. 

You weren’t scowling, you weren’t arguing, and you weren’t shoving. No, you were listening and worse you were laughing. Not your usual sharp, competitive cackle, a soft one. 

Buggy recoiled like he’d been physically struck. “What is that?” He whispered. 

Cabaji, who had been leaning against the mast nearby, followed his gaze. “Ah. The courtship ritual progresses.” 

“Courtship?!” Buggy screeched. 

Down below, the boy said something that made you lightly shove his shoulder. 

Lightly. 

Buggy gripped the railing. “She didn’t even use force.” 

Mohji shuffled closer, chewing thoughtfully. “She seems… happy, Captain.” 

“That’s the problem!” Both men blinked. Buggy gestured wildly. “Do you not see what’s happening? She’s being agreeable. She’s smiling. She’s tilting her head.” 

Cabaji nodded solemnly. “A classic sign of interest.” Buggy looked like he might faint. 

Below, the boy handed you something , your bandana. You took it without wrestling him to the ground. Buggy clutched his chest. “She’s accepting returned property peacefully,” he breathed. “This is worse than I imagined.” 

Mohji patted his shoulder. “It means she took your advice.” 

“I didn’t think she’d actually use it!” 

Cabaji hummed thoughtfully. “You told her to be honest.” 

“I was hoping she’d fail!” 

The two men stared at him. Buggy deflated slightly. “Not fail-fail. Just… moderately stumble.” Below, the boy leaned closer to say something quietly. You didn’t push him away and you leaned in.  

Buggy made a strangled noise. “That’s proximity. That’s intentional proximity.” 

Cabaji nodded like a scholar observing rare wildlife. “Fascinating.” 

“She’s growing up,” Mohji said gently. 

Buggy froze. The words hit harder than anything else had. 

Growing up. 

Below, you smiled again, shy this time. 

Buggy’s painted grin twitched. “…He better not hurt her,” he muttered. 

Cabaji adjusted his glasses. “If he does, we dispose of him.” 

Mohji nodded eagerly. “Into the sea?” 

Buggy’s hand detached slowly, hovering ominously in the air as his eyes stayed locked on the pair below. “…Into the sea, but not yet.” 

Cabaji blinked. “Not yet, Captain?”