#beequake

Tradition? She wasn’t sure that was the right word. It was moreso a habit, watching the splotches of pinks, oranges and yellows sink below the sea line till the sky turned black and only then she rose from the bed to leave the cold room. 

It wasn’t the sticky humidity from weeks ago that made a person's skin crawl, chilly but refreshing. Like a splash of water in your face to wake you up from your sleepy mind. The wooden floorboards creaked under her footsteps but it was nothing, covered with the drunken singing of the crew below deck.

The deck was barren, the party slipping underneath it soon enough where there was more food and plenty more alcohol. It was also partially everyone trying to escape having to clean up, out of sight out of mind huh?

Whitebeard was calmly seated under the growing dark sky, soaking in the soft light of the moon and flickering warmth of the tiki torches. It was quiet, only the sound of the waves licking at the hull of the ship and the quiet sigh of content from Whitebeard being the only sounds in the quiet quiet night sea.

“Are you trying to scare me?” His deep voice rumbles, splitting the silence in half in the same way his devil fruit could crack the air itself. His tone is playful, a smile evident just in his words.

“Scare you? No, it’s only August. Wrong time of the year to be trying that.” She laughs and wanders out onto the wide deck. It’s always odd seeing it so abandoned, even with the food and party decorations strewn across the ground it felt empty this time of night. “I wanted to sit with you, can I not?”

He shifts in his seat, the old wood creaking loudly under his body and without any words he scoops Bee up into his lap. In comparison to the cold chill of the fading season, Whitebeard was warm. But when was’t he? Always fiery with energy and a gleam in his eye that could be compared to the sparkling sun.

“August eh?” He mutters the word under his breath a few times, rolling it around in his mouth and getting a taste for it. “It’s an important day, isn’t it?”

Bee smiles, she can’t help it. It’s partly guilty but partly an underlying excitement that of course he knew. There was always an all knowing look in his eye, he always knew something.

“I guess so.” Bee speaks softly and Whitebeard chuckles, equally as soft. His large hand comes up to stroke her head and she leans into his touch. It was her birthday, black x’s on her calendar slowly leading up to this day in the year. “I just wanted it to be between you and me.”

“Is that so?” He muses, leaning back to stare at the starry sky and look back at the birthdays previous to this. Loud and wild, that’s how the Whitebeard Pirates did things. Enough food to eat for days and days with no end in sight and songs that lasted till the sun came creeping back up, neverending energy fueled by a mission to show crewmates their love. “Seems like everyone was unaware of that part.”

There had been a party, a bit toned down in comparison to previous years but for a day solely to celebrate Bee, she was shockingly absent. Maybe it was the heat, still present when the sun shined clear in the sky. Or the book gifted a day earlier from the doctor was particularly enrapturing, leaving her hidden away in the quietness of her room.

“You know your crew, don’t you? They’d just throw me an even bigger party to try to win me over.” Bee can only imagine the lengths they’d go to, a smile tugging at her lips in a slight adoration towards just how silly but lovable they are. “Cake and a few birthday wishes are all I needed today, and some time with you.”

He tosses his head back and laughs. “With ole me? I’m honored.”

“Well…” Bee shifts in his lap, scrambling to turn around and face the giant man. “How else am I supposed to collect my birthday present?” 

“How could I forget?” Tutting quietly he shifts to search for his present. Bee rolls onto her back, staring up at the night sky, surprisingly bright with all the little stars dotting the canvas of black. Even this later, the moon seemed to make Whitebeard’s golden hair shine in the milky white light.

He hands her a brown package, wrapped carefully with twine and a red stamp in the middle. The package crinkles with noise in his careful hand, passing it to Bee as if the gift inside was made of glass, making her mind buzz with possibilities. Unraveling it with great care, the stars catch on shimmering metal as it’s slowly unveiled. 

A golden necklace, perfectly shiny and the right shade to compliment her tanned skin as she held in her palm. Small and delicate, with a little antique bee pendant connected to the dainty chain. It was small but precious, a closer look revealing every small detail carefully carved into the metal bee. And sliding out of the package into her lap were two hair clips, adorned with a shimmering sun and moon.

“I’ve been holding onto those for a while,” he says softly, firmly pressing the gifts into Bee’s palm. “Thankfully I’m good with secrets.” He helps put the necklace on, the metal surprisingly warm from Whitebeard’s touch. The golden bee sits in the middle of her chest, just above her heart. “A gift for my dear little bee.”

She’s grinning wider and wider by the second, a kiss placed atop her head leaves her heart blooming with happiness. She fumbles with the hair clips in her hand, placing one in her hair then swooping forward into Whitebeard’s embrace. “I love them, they’re beautiful. But you won’t mind me asking for one more thing?”

He raises a concerned eyebrow then grunts, prompting her to snatch up the idea forming in her mind and move on with it. Upon her motioning, Whitebeard holds her up closer to his face and she stretches out to take the golden strands of blonde hair in her hands. They’re silky soft, well taken care of and feel like velvet slipping through her fingers as she gathers strands. 

Crossing strand over strand, she slowly makes her way to the end and Whitebeard lets out a knowing huff of laughter at what she’s doing. He sits quiet and still, admiring her work and the way her face scrunched up in focus as she works without a word, the hair clip dangling from her mouth until the last strand has been crossed over the previous and a braid is left. With a smile on her face, she props herself up and slides the hair clip in place, adorned in the same spot hers was. 

“There we go, a perfect present.” She presses a kiss to his cheek and he erupts in laughter, leaning into her sweet touch.

“What would I ever do without you?” Sighing, he lets her press herself against his chest, melting against his skin and leaning back to watch the stars. The day would be over soon enough, the birds would sing their sound announcing a new day and the next one would have nothing special about it. A new day, leaving the past behind.

But as she plays with the Bee pendant in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the smooth metal she knows one thing will stay the same.

“A shooting star.” Whitebeard whispers and she glances up just in time to see the burning streak of light cross the sky, disappearing in a flash. “You haven’t made a birthday wish have you?” He snuggles her closer to his warm body, holding her firmly.

Bee shakes her head, stopping to think of what possible thing she could wish for. Everything seemed to turn up blank, but she wasn’t upset.

Taking a few steps in different directions, he heard her call out a searching, "Eddie?"

"Over here, little Bee," he called back. Immediately he felt her reorient herself, before rushing towards the sound of his voice.

She broke through the grass the entirely wrong way, several feet away and facing the other direction. Confused, she turned until she spotted his large frame and brightened.

Edward chuckled under his breath as she hurried over. Bee always got hopelessly lost, it was almost magical how she managed it. Absolutely no directional awareness, she could get mixed up on her left and right. The only thing she could maybe follow was landmarks. But the way they traveled, they were never in one place long enough for her to learn any.

As it was, she did fine on the ship. And, privately, it amused him. Sometimes he liked to ask her which direction they were facing, out there in the open sea just to see how badly her guess was off.

Once, she'd peered up at him as he'd roared with laughter at another wrong answer. "Why's it matter?" Bee had asked. "The only thing I need to get to is you."

Well, maybe don't say it to his face but he'd always been a bit of a sap.

"Eddie!" she said eagerly in the here and now, "look at how many I have!!"

Fireflies winked out from her body, crawling up her arms. Her hair was the most impressive, frizzy and twinkling with buried insects.

He smiled at her warmly. Bee had never seen fireflies before, though she knew what they were (read about them, she'd commented when he'd asked). So he'd taken it upon himself to show her.

Really, he just wanted to see her face exactly like this, excitement and wonder shining in her eyes as she peered at the flashing bugs without all the distraction of his sons. Although most of the time he didn't mind, even preferred having them all together, sometimes it was nice to see her like this.

Just for him alone.

"You look good, like a princess of bugs," Edward said fondly and she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Bugs are cool though!"

"Until they bite you."

Bee froze, arms still outstretched before she looked down with worry. "They don't bite do they??"

"Gura ra ra ra!! Little late to ask that now, ain't it?"

She sniffed and threw up her nose. "They don't bite!! You would have told me beforehand if they did!"

"Would I?" he asked with a grin. Bee didn't back down.

"Of course you would!"

He hummed and didn't disagree. She was right, after all. Reaching out, he prepared his little sleight of hand trick. Edward had one of his sons teach him, it was easy enough and he wanted to see the joy light across her face.

"Got something to complete your outfit, princess of bugs."

"Oh?" Bee asked, intrigued as he showed her his empty palm. Quickly he twisted his wrist and a flower appeared behind his fingers. She gasped and fondness fizzled over him. She was so easy to please.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

Tucking the slightly-wilting flower behind an ear he said, "Saw this earlier and it made me think of you."

"You're so sweet," Bee gushed with happiness.

Edward shrugged. "A bit wilted." He'd picked it a while ago, on the walk over here. Still, he knew she didn't care and true to form, she didn't look bothered at all.

"S'kay, it's the thought that counts right?" He hummed before he leaned closer.

Sensing what he wanted immediately, Bee tilted her face up and meet him, lips brushing together softly.

"Thank you," she muttered out against his lips. "Sorry I've been boring tonight."

He chuckled pulling back to run a finger against her cheek. "We came here for you, it's fine. I'm just drinking and listening to you have a blast."

“Ah, Lucas,” Pops’ voice boomed and he froze, eyes glued to the deck. Damn. No such luck. “You mind doing me a favor, son?”

“W-well, I’m kind of in the middle of doing something, Pops—”

“Someone else can do that for you,” Pops dismissed immediately, and Lucas sighed recognizing that he wouldn’t get out of this, and threw the mop into the bucket before looking up into the older man’s lined face. “Go find Bee, would you? See what she’s doing, it’s been ages.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that it was hot and Bee was most likely attempting to escape the heat when a yell echoed across the deck. “That’s right newbie! Go find Bee!” There was a round of laughter from the shipmates scattered about and Lucas sighed, knowing when he’d been beaten.

“Alright Pops, I’ll do that,” he said dully.

“Good, thank you son.” Pops settled back into his chair with a smile, looking much more at ease and Lucas sighed as he walked away, dreading what was to come.

It wasn’t hard to find Bee, the woman was in the captain’s quarters, the room she shared with Pops. After he knocked and came in, the room was dark, the curtains drawn and a fan set up on the massive bed, blowing directly at Bee who sat against the headboard with a book in her lap. A den den mushi was playing music softly on the headboard and when dark brown eyes regarded him, Lucas tried to smile.

He didn’t think he was quite successful.

“Hey Bee, Pops wants to know what you’ve been up to.” Bee’s expression shifted to a are you an idiot which Lucas didn’t feel like he quite deserved.

“Reading,” she said slowly.  

Biting his lip, he shifted. Technically that was the end of what Pops had wanted but hoping to spare himself another trip, he went on, “Pops was wonderin’ if you were going to come out onto the deck anytime soon.”

She scoffed. “Uh, and bake under the sun? No thanks.”

Lucas tapped his foot a little before he asked, a little timidly. “Is there anything else you’d want me to tell Pops or…?”

“Just tell him I’m reading and I don’t want to be on deck right now.” He nodded back before turning to the door feeling dejected.

Trudging back to Pops, Lucas relayed Bee’s message. From the corner of his eye, he could see shipmates gathering closer and closer to watch the show. Sweat started to bead on his neck and he hoped that maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe he’d escape this time.

As Pops’ face twisted into a scowl Lucas didn’t think his chances were very high.

“Tell Bee that I’d just love for her to come on out now. It’s barely that hot.”

“Well,” Lucas began, “it is pretty hot Pops…” The glare he got in return had him clicking his mouth shut and as he turned to walk away, snickers could be heard following him.

Bee didn’t look all that surprised to see him again, as she put a finger between the pages. “What does he want?” she asked flatly.

“That he’d love for you to come up. He misses you.” Lucas hoped the comment would melt her just a little. He didn’t add the ‘that hot’ comment, he’d heard enough of Bee’s whining about the subject over the last few days of the oppressive heat they’ve had that he didn’t think she’d appreciate it overly much.

“That’s nice,” Bee said dismissively opening up her book. “Tell him I’m good, he can go a few hours without my company.”

The remark didn’t go over so well with Pops, who glowered down at Lucas as if he were to blame. He didn’t cower though, just accepted a sort of quiet defeat.

“That little—” The rest of the sentence was lost under Pops’ angry muttering before he spoke louder. “Say Thatch will make one of those fancy drinks she likes so much if she’ll come out.”

“Hey!” Thatch’s voice rose with complaint. “I didn’t say that!”

Pops waved a nonchalant hand in Thatch’s direction. “Oh please, if she asked you, you’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Before Thatch could argue, Lucas broke in. “Anything else?” he asked, a little desperately. He didn’t want to do a whole trip there and back for such a little thing. Pops rumbled a chuckle.

“Tell her captain’s orders.”  

“Nah. Not really worth it,” Bee said without looking up from her book. “Also ‘captain’s orders’? Fucking bullshit, thought we were equals. He’s lucky I’m too hot to complain about that, or else I’d march up there to give him a piece of my mind.” She was snarling down at her book when she looked up at Lucas. “Don’t tell Edward that part. Just the first thing.”

Lucas fought to keep his expression blank and not to break down in tears. Sweat was pouring down his back at this point, and he was panting heavily. He had to go down several flights of stairs there and back every time they did this.

It was a rite of passage he had been told. Whenever Pops and Bee wanted to pass messages back and forth, a newbie was always chosen to be a messenger bird. They used to do it on the den den mushi, faster for all involved but then an article had been released.

‘Trouble in Paradise?’ The headline had shouted, with a detailed discussion of their conversation. Bee had had a fit apparently. So now shipmates did it instead.

And now it was Lucas’s turn.

“Would you like me to tell him anything else?” Lucas needled and Bee hummed before looking up at the ceiling.

“Actually yeah,” she said brightly and his heart lifted with hope. “Tell him if he’s so bored he can flirt with the nurses since I’m not there to bitch at him for it. And tell him to stop bothering me.”

Closing the door behind himself, Lucas wondered if it was manly to cry now or after Pops reacted to that.

When Lucas dutifully repeated the message, the answering flare of haki almost knocked him out. He heard several thumps behind him as bodies hit the deck.

“That goddamn woman,” Pops said angrily as he stood, nurses ducking for cover and trying unsuccessfully to stop him as he started pulling out lines. “Fucking pain in my ass, come on Lucas,” he commanded as he grabbed up his naginata and started to storm away.

Dreading where this was going, Lucas jogged to keep up. When they reached the door, he tried one last ditch effort. “Pops, could I maybe go back to my duties now?”

“No,” Pops said immediately, dashing what little hope remained. “You stand there while I deal with this. Go get Marco if the screaming gets too bad.”

Lucas almost wanted to quip ‘what kind of screaming?’ just to be contrary but Pops spoke before he could. “If you’re not out here when I come out, you’re off the ship.”

“What! Pops, no don’t, I—”

“That’s an order son,” Pops’ voice was deadly serious. “You stand here and guard this door.”

Lucas sighed as Pops went in and immediately two voices became raised. Idly he wondered if he could tear off pieces of his shirt and use it as earplugs as he heard the boxsprings squeal and Bee’s scream of rage.

More muffled yelling that slowly became more and more muted before they stopped entirely. Lucas leaned against the far wall and followed the line of the wood down until he came to his butt and he sat moodily,.

It was strangely quiet, now that their fight had suddenly ended. A loud moan abruptly leaked from behind the door. Lucas stared grumpily at the door as the minutes ticked by and he could hear the mattress squeak here and there, along with several giggles from Bee.

They always did this, or at least, when it got this heated anyways. Lucas had been informed that many times Bee would simply break and go out on deck after enough messages. Unfortunately for Lucas, the last two times he’d been forced to do this, this had been the outcome. Pops became enraged and sought out Bee himself with Lucas in toll. The first time, he’d told Lucas to wait around for a scream.

He’d heard one and ran to get Marco. The commander had simply looked at him like he was crazy before he explained dully ‘when a man and woman loved each other very much…’ Lucas wasn’t sure the blush left his face for several days after.

The second, he’d simply skedaddled after he heard the first moan.

Another loud gasp before Pops’ familiar chuckle rang through and Lucas debated if he really wanted this that badly.

Whitebeard hummed, the air vibrating a little with the tremor of it. “She fits in well.”

“If you’re trying to get a replacement for Toki,” Whitey began and ignored the fierce glare Pops shot her way, “I don’t think this is the best way to go about it.”

“No? Why’s that? Toki was a civilian if you’re so insistent on that being the reason Bee couldn’t stay.”

“Toki had Oden to protect her.”

“Along with the entire crew. As Bee will have. Besides, won’t it be nice for you? Get you some female company and all.”

Whitey had to clench her teeth against the swell of rage that statement inspired. Had to bite down on the ‘well if we had more female pirates that wouldn’t be a problem’, if Pops would let her recruit women, if, if, if. It was an often had argument and she wasn’t interested in chasing down its familiar paths.

“I don’t need it,” she finally gritted out, turning her head. The pearl she kept on a charm attached to her headscarf bumped against her cheekbone. A sign of her loyalties. Whitebeard Pirates had two things: the familiar Jolly Roger and pearls to welcome new members to the crew with.

Whitebeard eyed her and for a moment it felt like the light brown specks seemed to pull her apart, examine each piece of her critically, before making a decision and reassembling her. The moment his eyes flitted back to watch Bee, Whitey released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Pops could be intense; he didn’t get where he was by always being kind and it was always a sobering reminder.

“We never asked Toki to be a part of the crew.” Oden? Yes. But Toki? While family, while loved, while protected? Never. It was that distinction that made it bearable.

Pops grunted, the information obviously disinteresting and Whitey scrambled for something else.

“When will you ask her?” Whitey asked, feeling a little desperate but it didn’t show in her voice. The sense of injustice—of unfairness—threatened to overtake her. Why would Pops let Bee join their crew when Whitey had asked, bargained, pleaded for more female members? Pops knew she didn’t mean women like Toki, like Bee. Kind-hearted, caring individuals though they may be, the crew needed might, they needed strength. Women to teach the boys how to blow bubbles was hardly necessary. All her life Whitey had been laughed at for her dream to become a pirate, underestimated in a fight, undervalued on a crew.

After joining the Whitebeard Pirates—who were men sure—but men who respected her, who never laughed at her strength, who listened to her opinions and her orders, she thought she’d finally found her home, her family.

It wasn’t until after she had gotten settled, had carved out a little place for herself on the crew and looked around that she realized, why am I the only female. The answer is unfair and yet strangely still compelling enough that she hadn’t left. Why she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

“I’ve never had a daughter before,” Pops had confessed to her once after she caught him in his room, enraged at yet another chance to get a sister-in-arms that Pops had refused. “I found the thought of you getting hurt under my name, fighting for my banner unbearable. I can’t stop you now, you’re here, you belong here, daughter of mine. But I won’t subject myself to more.”

“Give me some time?” Whitey asked (pleaded). Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, likely drawing blood. Pops sighed as if it pained him, eyes glued to the figure Bee made. Her small frame surrounded by sun-weathered pirates, all with makeshift bubble wands, attempting to blow bubbles as she laughed, her black hair whipping around her face in the sea breeze.

“Fine, fine. A week at most,” Pops conceded and Whitey nodded once before she spun on her heel and left the deck behind, rage following her every step.

The ship couldn’t have women pirates. No, of course not. Yet some random girl they picked up from a Marine ship was okay. The exchange was so minimal, Whitey couldn’t believe it had inspired…all of this. They had rounded up the entire military crew on deck, after they had decided to attack them. Pops was surveying the crew, the Whitebeard Pirates scattered about the deck as the Captain of the vessel screamed curses and threats at Pops.

Pops had taken a step forward, as if to approach the Marine Captain when a woman had suddenly shot forward and flung herself at his leg. Pops had stilled and, once he stopped moving, the woman pulled back, shaking like a leaf before crouching down to pick something up. Whitey was too far away at the time to see what she held out in the palm of her hand, arm stretched out over her head to show Pops. She found out later it was a den den mushi, fallen from someone’s pocket. (Bee would later tell the story that besides the intense fear of being boarded by a pirate crew, she had been afraid someone would step on the snail.) After that, Pops had ordered they take Bee along and left his sons (and Whitey) behind to destroy the ship.

Grinding her teeth together, Whitey decided she’d talk with the boys later, see what they thought.

It took longer than expected to round them up and she didn’t even manage all of them. Marco, Izou, Vista and the newest member of their crew, an awkward Thatch. Haruta managed to sneak his way inside, much to Whitey’s annoyance. Haruta was barely ten (if that, who knew if he even knew his own age), the youngest crewmember by far.

Children, Whitey thought to herself as she watched them sit and complained about being in a storage room. It didn’t matter that she was only a few years older in Vista’s case, clearly the rest of them were no better than boys on a playground, battle skills notwithstanding.

“Quiet!” She barked and they quieted down slightly. “I wanted to get you dogs together to tell you something.”

“Aw man, why we gotta be dogs, yoi?” Marco whined immediately and Haruta’s high-pitched voice joined, the light green pearl brooch he always wore on his shirt proudly shimmering in the low light.

“Yeah! I dun wanna be a d-dog,” his stutter made him stumble over his words.

Whitey pursed her lips. “Let’s focus. Pops wants to invite Bee onto the crew.”

“Lovely!” Vista broke in. “I was wondering when he’d ask her.” She bristled.

“Why!” she roared in question. “Why are you okay with that?! She’s not a pirate! Pops shouldn’t be askin’ her to join the crew, that’s madness.” A soft scoff got her attention and she turned to Izou who was perched delicately on the edge of a box. His own deep purple pearl shining from one dangling earring.

“Not sure why you’re so surprised,” he said in response to her silent question. “It’s obvious Pops is head over heels for her.”

The news clenched around her belly like an iron band and she hissed, “What.” Izou shrugged.

Haruta rubbed at his nose. “Ain’t Ma Bee and Pops already together?”

Ma Bee, how she hated that nickname.

“Nah, not yet,” Thatch interjected. “Do you think he’ll confess before or after he asks her to join?” He fidgeted with a ring on a chain around his neck, rubbing his thumb against the gold inlaid pearl. Not all of them displayed their pearls so visibly, it all depended on the person. Still, the conversation was getting wildly out of hand.

“Wait, wait,” she held up a hand before someone else could break in and distract everyone even more. “Someone explain this to me.”

“Pops is in love,” Vista sighed, ever the romantic. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, don’t you want to see Pops happy, Whit?” Marco asked with a grin. She glowered at him as his grin widened. “Or are you jealous.”

“Ooohhh,” Haruta and Thatch said in unison.

“Why would I be jealous,” Whitey seethed.

Marco shrugged. “Dunno, you’re always bothering Pops for more women on the crew, shouldn’t you be happy about this, yoi?”

“She’s not a pirate.”

“Neither is Haruta,” Marco pointed out, ignoring the indignant ‘hey!’ that resounded from the statement. “Neither was I at first, as you so frequently liked to point out.”

Whitey crossed her arms. “That’s different. You at least knew how to fight, and Haruta will learn.”

“Couldn’t Ma Bee learn?” Haruta asked and she waved a hand.

“She’s too soft, she isn’t even helpful for the crew, more of a burden than anything else.”

The deafening silence at that statement made her shift with uneasiness. “Isn’t she?!” Whitey burst out. “Name one thing she does that is helpful,” as Haruta opened his mouth she tacked on, “that isn’t how to make bubbles.” He closed his mouth.

Izou piped up. “Maybe you should spend a day with Bee? See what she does on the ship.” Whitey crossed her arms.

“Why should I? I see her around; she doesn’t do much.” Just wander around greeting everyone and chatting with anyone who would listen, she had seen it all before.

Haruta and Thatch shared a look before Thatch straightened. “I think it’s a good idea, myself. But I’ve got chef stuff to do, Haruta wanna come?”

“Yesssss,” his lisp made him carry the ‘s’ for a moment longer than needed and Whitey flinched. Quickly the room emptied out until it was just Vista standing before her.

“What?” she asked crossly, irritated that the meeting hadn’t gone to plan. They weren’t supposed to be happy about this for gods’ sake. She had been hoping to get more people behind her, and talk Pops out of it but clearly, that wasn’t to be.

“I agree with Izou,” Vista said firmly. “What harm could it do?”

“A waste of my time, for starters. I’ve got my own duties—”

“Whitey,” Vista interrupted, sounding disappointed. She sighed, aggravated.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Later that night, in the woman’s dorms (with only the two of them. It has always housed either Whitey herself or one other woman; Toki didn’t last long before Oden scooped her up into his own bed) she got ready for bed with a growing lump in her throat.

A den den radio played softly, as it did every night on Bee’s side of the room. They don’t talk, not after Whitey had made it more than clear that she doesn’t enjoy small talk. Now they only speak when they want something, ‘can you turn the music off’, ‘can you turn off the lamp’, etc.

“Say Bee,” Whitey said, and the older woman hummed before glancing over the book propped in her lap at her. “I was wondering if I could” —she had to fight a wince at the following words—“shadow you tomorrow? See what you do on the ship.”

Bee blinked a few times in surprise, her dark brown eyes staring before she recovered. “Oh! Yeah, if you’d like?”

“I would.”

She shifted before asking timidly, “Is there any reason?”

“Just curious,” Whitey answered mildly.

“I wake up at seven and leave the room by seven-thirty,” Bee said a little awkwardly. That was after muster, which is why Whitey always left the room before she did.

Whitey sighed, annoyed already. “Alright.”

Waiting for Bee to wake up was its own special kind of torture; fully dressed and ready at six o’clock, the routine fully ingrained into her. Still, once she flicked on a light and started idly flipping through a book, Bee woke up soon afterwards.

Her routine was simple but she apparently started the day out with music as well, a fact Whitey hadn’t known but also didn’t care about. They headed to the galley, breakfast already in full swing.

Breakfast was a normal affair. Whitey ate quickly then waited impatiently for Bee to finish her tea. Nakama wandered up to chat with Bee who greeted each person warmly, none of which surprised Whitey. Bee was known as a chatterbox.

Still, what was surprising was when Bee finally finished, she picked up her tray and motioned at Whitey. “Come on then.” Before leaving towards the kitchens. With a brow raised, Whitey followed.

Bee dumped her tray before leaving it next to a sink, which Whitey copied before she had to rush to keep up with Bee’s small steps. Whitey dodged around several chefs who were already preparing the next meal, along with cleaning up from the last. Keeping one eye firmly on Bee’s black hair as it bounced as she walked, she wondered what all this was about.

Finally, Bee came to a stop in a small corner of the kitchen, Thatch working away with his back to them.

“Hey Thatch,” Bee greeted as she rested a hand on his back as she came up to his side. “How are things going?”

“Hey Ma!” Thatch replied, happily bending to wrap a quick arm around her in a side-hug. “Good, good. Took your advice about the clean-up duties, it’s been going a lot smoother. You here to help with stock?”

“Here to watch you do stock you mean. If I get more rotten banana juice dumped on me, I’m never stepping foot in this kitchen again, mark my words.”

Thatch laughed before he turned and spotted Whitey standing here. He noticeably deflated. “Oh, hey Whitey.” The tone was a lot less excited and she glared.

Bee smacked Thatch’s arm. “Don’t be like that, Whitey wanted to see my routine.”

“I’m sure she did,” Thatch grumbled before he started to lead them away from his kitchen nook and up to a large walk-in refrigerator. Thatch held the door open and cold air struck Whitey across the face. Bee grabbed up a large jacket that was hanging nearby before zipping it up and pulling out a notepad from the pocket. The three of them went inside.

Produce lined the shelves as Thatch started mumbling to himself as he looked it over. “Alright, so—”

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready!” Bee interrupted, digging into the pocket before withdrawing a small pencil and thumbing through the pages. Hunching her shoulders, she nodded at Thatch. “Okay, go ahead.”

They ran through the stock quickly, which was good. The cold was starting to bother Whitey, and Bee was shifting foot-to-foot before they really even started. Only Thatch seemed unaffected, apparently used to it.

Once Bee handed over the notepad and said their goodbyes to Thatch and headed out of the kitchens, Whitey finally asked.

“What was that about?”

Bee hummed. “Sometimes y'all would have the same meals? Which isn’t a surprise but they didn’t have that many different sides, just bread and meat half the time. Every time we’d dock we’d get more options, vegetables and fruits and things like that before that would noticeably drop off a week or so out of port. Sometimes shorter. Crew needs more than meat and bread, you know? So I asked.

“Turns out, Thatch was having a hell of a time trying to keep track of everything. A lot of the boys in the kitchens were more dish boys or prep chefs, none really bothered keeping track of stock. So things would go bad. They tried to keep that from happening by using up everything quickly but then that leaves large stretches of time where there’s only the meat and bread left.”

Bee shrugged. “I’m not a cook or anythin’ like that. Hell, I don’t really know shit about stocking really either. But it’s nice to have someone to run stuff by. I offered and Thatch agreed, so we do it together now. Occasionally I bring up ideas for things they can make which will keep longer if something is going to go bad soon but honestly Thatch has gotten so much better already! He’s going to make an amazing head chef.”

“He isn’t already?” Whitey asked, snidely. Pops had personally asked Thatch aboard after tasting his food. Bee shot her a look from the corner of her eye.

“Thatch is a great cook, but he’s still new, still nervous about stepping on toes or doing the wrong thing, of being a disappointment. He’s young, he’ll learn. A head chef is a title, nothing more. In the eyes of his division, he’s gotta earn that title, which scares him. He doesn’t know if he’ll make a good leader yet. I don’t doubt he’ll do it, and do it well, but I don’t want to say he’s already achieved something that he hasn’t. Not when he’s been working so hard to get there. I don’t wanna cheapen his success when he finally reaches it by sayin’ he’s got it already.”

Whitey didn’t reply, mind spinning. She knew Thatch was still finding a place here, brand new as he was, but the rest she hadn’t thought of.

“Wasn’t he a chef before?” she asked. Bee laughed.

“Weren’t you a pirate before you came to this ship? You still had stuff to learn, respect to earn. A former title doesn’t mean a thing.” Bee stopped before the library before holding open the door for her. “After you.”

Stepping inside, Whitey had no idea why they were there. The ‘library’ was a small room, with a few tables set up and bookcases mostly empty. Haruta swayed on a chair, a table filled with drawings in front of him, crayons scattered around.

“H-hey Ma Bee!” he stuttered happily and Bee smiled back.

“Hey Haruta, ready for your lesson?” He nodded excitedly as Bee bent to grab a few books off a shelf.

“You’re teaching him how to read?” Whitey asked, surprised.

“Yeah. The way I was taught wasn’t the best either, luckily, I’ve picked up a few books and Haruta already knew some basics. We also work on his stutter.”

“And my lisp!” Haruta added.

“And your lisp,” Bee repeated with agreement. Whitey sat across from them as Bee took the seat next to him and they ran through several exercises.

Overall, it was boring for Whitey who watched with half-lidded eyes. However, she could see the value in such a thing. Picking through a few things on the tabletop, she found a workbook and started leafing through the pages.

“Why aren’t you working on his math?” Whitey asked looking over some problems and Bee flinched.

“Some of the other boys help him with that,” she replied.

Haruta gestured wildly with a hand, pencil wedged firmly in his grasp. “Like Izou! Sometimes Jozu. I like Jozu better he’s, n-n-n,” his face started to pinch and Bee laid a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Slow down, take a breath. It’s okay to stutter or slur the word, just work your way through it.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, “Nicer.” Haruta turned to Bee with a wide smile and she smiled back.

“See? You did it! You don’t have to rush yourself.”

“But why don’t you,” Whitey broke in, trying to switch back to the matter at hand. “You’re already sitting here with him.”

Bee frowned. “He needs a break, for starters. We work through his reading and writing, along with whatever voice lessons I’ve managed to read about or ask about when we go into port. That already is long enough for a ten-year-old to sit through. Not to mention his other lessons, his training with Vista, helping with the shipwrights, what have you. His math is also better than mine, I don’t have much to teach him in that department.” Whitey raised a brow in question and Bee explained.

“My math is terrible,” she shrugged. “I can’t divide or multiply, let alone anything more complex than that. Haruta here,” she ruffled his hair and he giggled, “is already leagues above me.”

“Do you join in his math classes? You could learn a thing or two.” Haruta wrinkled his nose at Whitey and she ignored it.

“No,” Bee stated firmly. “My math skills are that bad not for lack of trying or teaching. I finished higher education for fucks’ sake,” she glared at Whitey. “A fact I’m proud of. But me attempting to better myself in an area that already has gotten enough of my tears? No thanks. For what?”

“Could be helpful for the crew,” Whitey said carefully. Bee rolled her eyes.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about pirates, is a lot of them are already mathematically inclined. Maybe they can’t read or write but they can barter or sell faster than I’ve ever seen. Trust me, this is a fact I’ve known about myself. I don’t get better, I’ve studied, taken tests, done a lot to try. It’s just not a skill that can be improved upon, let’s just leave it at that.”

The lesson finished soon after, as Bee announced two hours had passed and Haruta took off immediately. Bee (and therefore Whitey) stayed behind to clean up the mess, tucking everything away before heading out.

This time they headed to the Medical Bay.

“Do you always do these same rounds?” Whitey asked.

“Depends, sometimes someone will ask for my help in a specific division. For a while Communications was a mess, I was in there most of the day.”

“Why’s that?”

“No one was keeping track of anything!” Bee burst out her voice suddenly angry. “It was ridiculous. I couldn’t believe it. Did you know an island asked for aid twice in one month?”

Whitey stopped them and leaned against a wall in the hallway they had been traveling down. “What do you mean? So?”

“So,” Bee began, obviously getting riled up, “after I looked into it, this same island had been asking for supplies and money several times each month, each time asking a different person in the division. The chain of command here is so fucked, they were basically robbing us.” She suddenly dropped her eyes. “Or well, you guys. You know what I mean.”

“What happened after that?” Whitey needled, intrigued. She hadn’t heard about this.

“I spoke to Eddie,” Whitey’s eyes widened at the nickname before Bee continued, “told him what was going on. He asked me what I thought should happen. I worked with the division to create a more effective system. We put in some standard operating procedures, how things need to be discussed with the Division Commander before money is sent, in what situations a double supply run would be necessary, stuff like that.”

She took a breath, her words almost bumping into each other in her haste. “Which also led into what happens when someone goes on a mission, where they report, what gets done. I helped with mission reports so we could keep track.”

Ah, that Whitey had heard about. The news had kicked up a major fuss, wanting each division to log their people’s coming and goings, when someone went on a mission, what happened, etc. Pops had stood firm, even when people had complained that they weren’t the Navy, Pops! None of it mattered, Pops hadn’t budged and his word was final.

In the end, Whitey could admit it made things smoother—better. Duty days were nicer when you actually knew who was on leave and who was just avoiding a watch. Mission reports were easier now, instead of having to remember which crewmembers had left and for how long and what they did, now it was all on a piece of paper.

“Clever,” Whitey commented and Bee gave her a small grin, looking up at her through her eyelashes.

“It’s not much and I know a lot of the boys don’t like it but sometimes it’s worth it to do things that are painful. Once it becomes commonplace, it’ll be easy.” Bee side-stepped Whitey to keep walking and she followed slowly.

Their Medical Bay was barren, only one large room with several cots laying out, an ‘operating’ room in the back. Privately, Whitey always hoped that if she became injured enough to need that room, she’d die before they got her back on the ship. There weren’t that many doctors on the crew, not yet. All they had were men who vaguely knew how to sew stitches and—

“Marco!” Bee called into the empty room and there was shuffling noise before a nearby closest door burst open, spilling Marco out, his large wings flapping to keep him upright.

“Hey Ma!”

Whitey groaned. “Does everyone call you that?” she asked.

Marco smiled at Whitey and she almost growled back. Bee went over to Marco’s side and started fussing over him, having him lift a foot as she bent to unwound a coil of bandages that somehow had wrapped around his leg.

“No,” Bee answered. “Just some of the boys like it. They asked me about it and it doesn’t really bother me.”

“She’s the best mom on the ship!” Marco replied sticking out his tongue at Whitey. “Nothing like you.”

“I don’t want to be your mom,” she hissed back.

“Good, you’d make a terrible one, yoi.”

“Marco.” Bee said and he shut his mouth easily enough. She straightened and started brushing Marco’s shoulders as she tsked. “What have you been doing dear? You’re so dusty.”

Marco seemed to puff up under the attention. “Cleaning! You said to organize the supplies!”

“I told you to do that after you finished studying,” Bee corrected lightly. “Have you been studying?”

“Yup!” Marco answered easily. “Need your help! Been waitin’ for you to show up.”

“Alright then, let’s run it through.”

“So now you’re a medical expert?” Whitey broke in and both turned to look at her with surprise, obviously forgetting her presence.

“No, I just help with flashcards,” Bee answered as Marco snickered.

“I’ll get the radio, yoi!” he said before rushing away as Bee settled onto a cot. She gestured to one nearby.

“Might as well get settled, if he wants the radio it means we’re going to be down here for a while.”

It was an understatement.

Marco was a cad, soaking in Bee’s attention. He got a station playing on low, propped his head up in Bee’s lap, and made himself right at home. They went through several stacks of flashcards.

Whitey had the sneaking suspicion that Marco played dumb for things he knew the answer to, as if to prolong the lesson. He even tried to get Bee to read aloud from a textbook of his, but Ma it helps, really it does! As Bee laughed at him and refused, saying she wouldn’t be able to pronounce all the medical terms. They compromised with a book on navigation instead.

They went until the lunch bell rang and even then, Marco tried to convince Bee to stay longer. She waved him off, promising they could study more later, and hustled Whitey out the door, towards the galley.

Along the way they were stopped several times as shipmates found Bee and chatted. Whitey had always seen Bee talking along corridors and out on deck. She never bothered to listen in. Now that she was forced to, she realized that most of the conversations weren’t just shooting the shit as she had assumed. Instead, they were actually filled with little updates, nakama letting Bee know that they finished such or such task, were freshly back from a mission, where the ship was heading to next, that sort of thing.

Bee was supportive and engaged until they moved on and the next person popped up. Occasionally there were a few conversations that were more run-of-the-mill things that Whitey would have expected, random tidbits or small talk questions.

What was unexpected was the few that came up to proudly show off some sort of hobby. An embroidered vest pocket was one of the stranger ones. Whitey waited until that crewmate had wandered off and they finally reached the galley where the loud chattering of the crew mostly masked their conversation before she asked.

“What was that about?”

“Hm?” Bee asked, distracted as she craned her neck above the crowd, looking for something. Finally, she managed to catch Pops’ eye and she waved with a large smile before focusing back on grabbing her food.

“The embroidery.”

“Oh! He mentioned wanting pretty things but feels guilty about buying them. Apparently, he sends a lot of his money back home, I mentioned he could make his own things if he wanted. It’s cheaper that way. We discussed a couple options and he tried a few things before landing on that. He’s come a long way! He was shy about it at first but others have gotten interested so he’s becoming more comfortable.”

“I see,” Whitey said but it didn’t appear like Bee even heard her, as she quickly ducked her way through the gathered crowd to rush to Pops’ side leaving Whitey behind.

She grimaced but followed. This wouldn’t be a conversation she was looking forward to.

Bee was already talking by the time Whitey came up and glared at the man seated on Pops’ other side before he hurriedly gave up his seat for her.

Pops sat at the very end of the table, Bee on his ride side, now directly across from Whitey, her hands gesturing as she spoke a mile a minute as Pops looked down at her fondly. His light brown eyes flickered to Whitey.

“Heard you’ve been accompanying our little Bee here, Whit.”

“S’not a bit deal,” Whitey defended herself against the implied accusation she heard in the statement. “I just wanted to see what Bee did around here is all.”

Bee started shoving salad into her mouth as Pops chuckled. The meal passed uneventfully, even though Vista caught her eye at some point and winked.

Now that she had been told about Pops’ feelings, she supposed she should have picked up on it sooner. It was obvious now that Whitey was aware of it. The attention Pops paid Bee, the way he leaned in to listen to her, it all told a story.

When was the first chapter? Whitey wondered. That first meeting, or was it sometime after? They were so absorbed in each other yet whenever nakama would come up to interrupt both easily stopped their conversation to listen and comment.

Is this what parents were like? Ever since Bee had come aboard she had really only spoken to Pops one-on-one, avoiding both when they were together. She wasn’t interested in ‘getting to know Bee’ or anything like that. But now seeing the way they both responded to Pops’ children, Whitey wondered if this wasn’t the real reason the ‘Ma’ nickname was spreading through the crew like wildfire. Everyone seemed equally happy to listen to Bee offer commentary as when Pops did. In fact, on one occasion while Pops was talking to Jozu someone else interrupted and Bee smoothly redirected Pops’ attention back to Jozu, who hadn’t finished his thought.

Parents were never this kind, Whitey decided, after watching them and the way they navigated around each other.

Sometime during lunch, Marco wandered over to their table and squeezed in between Bee and Pops. Bee easily made room while Pops laughed.

“Ma, Ma, don’t forget you’re supposed to help me still, yoi!” Marco said in between mouthfuls of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Bee replied.

Pops stuck a finger into Marco’s side, making him lurch with a laugh, spewing even more food.

“Eddie!” Bee reprimanded, handing Marco a napkin.

“Now son, I haven’t seen our little Bee all day, you can get her tomorrow.”

“Aw but I wasn’t done! How am I supposed to be a doctor like this!?” Marco complained. Whitey snorted as she leaned against a hand, elbow on the table.

Pops sighed loudly. “You can just heal people, son.”

“But not everything! I still gotta know how to do other stuff! How can I call myself a doctor otherwise, yoi?”

“He’s also learning navigation,” Bee pointed out.

“Yeah Pops!”

Whitebeard rolled his eyes. “You can study with her tomorrow, or later tonight. I think the Captain deserves a little time too.” He winked at Bee who ducked her head with a pleased smile.

Marco opened his mouth to argue some more before Whitey broke in before he could. “Give it a rest why don’t you bird brain,” she said, boredom laced through the words.

As she expected, Marco immediately got distracted as he focused on her and started bitching. Bee and Pops shared a look over his head before the both of them smiled, a secret shared between the two of them.

After lunch, Whitey lingered at Bee’s side as she quickly made her way through the ship.

“You don’t have to come?” Bee said over her shoulder looking up at Whitey who shrugged.

“You’re just gonna talk to Pops right? I can come along. Why aren’t you heading up on deck?”

“I’m grabbing a book!”

That explained it. Bee was an avid reader; Whitey swore that half the books in the library were because of her and she hadn’t even been there that long.

She leaned against their shared room’s doorframe as Bee went inside and started looking around. “Why even bother if you’re just going to talk to Pops?”

“Sometimes he gets distracted,” Bee answered, not bothering to look up from her search. “Or someone will come up with ship-related stuff so I’ll just read until they leave. Ah ha!” Triumphally pulling out a book she held it aloft for a second before hustling out the door, Whitey stepping aside to let her by before falling into step beside her.

“Don’t you have your hands in everything on the ship? Why does it matter if it’s ship-related or not.” Bee shot her a look before she stopped walking abruptly.

“Do you have a problem?” Bee asked and Whitey crossed her arms.

“I’m just asking a question.”

Bee narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. “I don’t know shit about navigation nor with anything to do with battle plans or with the weapons division. That’s why you haven’t seen me hanging around your division, not that you would like me being there even if I was only looking around.” Weapons were Whitey’s area of expertise. “Look, you don’t like me, fine whatever. But if you have a problem, we can address it now, rather than let it fester until I leave.”

Focusing on the very tail end of that, she asked, “Are you leaving?” A sudden dread filled her stomach at the thought.

Pressing a finger to her bottom lip, Bee chewed on it in thought before releasing it. “I know I won’t be around here forever, whenever Edward decides it’s been long enough, I’ll leave without a fuss.”

“That so?” Anxiety knitted her brow and she blocked Bee who tried to walk around her. “What about if Pops wanted you to stay?”

Bee raised an eyebrow, attempting to step around her. “Not sure why he would, I’m not a pirate.” She sighed. “Do you mind?” Whitey was still blocking her path.

“Neither was Toki,” Whitey pointed out. Even if Bee hadn’t ever met Oden and his family, she knew who they were, the crew mentioned them often enough.

“Toki wasn’t a part of the crew, Oden was,” Bee said as if Whitey wasn’t aware. Finally, she managed to dodge around her and hurried down the hall. Easily Whitey kept up with her.

“Don’t think that mattered to Pops—” Bee was walking up a flight of stairs when she turned to look down at Whitey, a glare freezing enough to cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said darkly. Whitey sighed but said nothing and they continued up.

Once they made it onto the top deck, Bee made a beeline (Whitey chuckled under her breath at the thought) to Pops’ chair. Clambering up, Pops was quick to wrap a hand around her waist as she made herself comfortable on his lap.

Whitey watched from a distance, far enough away to not be able to overhear but she wanted to watch them for once. She never had before.

It was about as disgusting to watch as she expected. Sickening sweet as the two smiled at each other and the gooey looks Pops shot her when she had her face turned away.

“You see it now, hm?” Vista asked as he slotted up to her side. Whitey blanched as Pops grabbed Bee up, bringing her close to his face and rubbing his moustache on her as she shrieked.

“Not sure how I missed it, to be frank, they’re so obvious.”

“You didn’t want to see it,” Vista said simply.

She hummed. “Maybe not. Bee thinks Pops will ask her to leave, how blind is she?”

“Love makes fools of us all.” Whitey huffed.

“Not me.”

Vista smiled at her. “Give it time, you never know.”

Whitey shot one last look at the picture they made, Pops now holding her up as she braided small braids into his hair, using the tail of one to swipe at his cheek now and then, the looks they were shooting each other full of love and longing.

“Maybe.”

Whitey waited impatiently outside of Pops’ room. It was late, as it usually was. He liked to stay up to drink with his sons. Finally, she heard the familiar stomping of his boots and she stopped her pacing.

“Whit,” Pops greeted calmly before opening his door.

“Pops,” she replied, following him in. “Got something to say to you, if you’ve got a minute.”

“Sure, sure, always time for my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter.”

He flicked on the lights and the familiar sight of his room made her smile. Pearls hung down the wall behind his bed, long strands of every color imaginable a pearl can be. They were different shapes and sizes, some lumpier than others. A pearl for every child of Whitebeard. She couldn’t wait to see the room in a few years’ time, how much the walls would be covered, how he would manage to squeeze them all in.

"Perhaps."

Whitey rolled her eyes. "Don't act like Bee is going to be like another daughter to you, we both know it's more than that." Pops chuckled.

"I was referring to Toki, but you have a point," he conceded. "Did you need something?"

She steeled her spine as she straightened. "Wanted to tell you Pops that I approve of you asking Bee to become part of the crew."

Pops raised a brow at her in question as he sat on the edge of his bed. She placed both hands on her hips. "I was shadowing her today—"

"I saw," Pops rumbled with a smile.

"—and she does more for the crew than I originally gave her credit for," she finished.

"She fits in well, as I said," Pops agreed with a nod. "I'm happy you can see it too."

Whitey frowned. "I still think taking a civilian is a big risk for the crew, just to be clear."

"We have literal children onboard m'dear."

"If someone finds out how much you care for her, they could use her against you."

"I care for all my children, anyone could do that for any of them."

"I meant," Whitey says, tone hard, "the fact that you love her, Pops."

He tensed and she rushed on before he could argue, "When are you going to tell her? Before or after you ask her to join the crew?" she echoed the question Thatch asked yesterday.

The air crackled between them, tense and heavy before his shoulders relaxed and he huffed. "When did you get so brave, hm?"

"You've taught me well."

"I've got a bunch of brats, you mean." Pops sighed as he reached down to kick off his boots. "Not sure," he said in answer to her question. "What do you think would be better?"

Whitey scoffed. "I'm not giving you love advice, Pops."

"No?" He grinned. "A shame. I could use it."

She thought about the way Bee looked at him, the devotion she saw in her brown eyes, and Whitey shook her head. "Nah, I don't think so. I'm gonna hit the sack, get some rest too you hear?"

Stepping forward, she brushed a quick kiss against his forehead as he muttered. "Not a child, don't need to be tucked into bed like one." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, Pops. Would you give Bee this much trouble?"

"Is this going to be a theme with you? Not sure I like the attitude."

Whitey grinned, the edge of it sharp and pointed. "I think you're just going to have to deal with it, old man."

Even if she might have a slight, grudging respect for Bee now, that didn't mean that she had to stop feeling bitter about the rest of it. She might be happy for Pops but that didn't alleviate the pain that his refusal to have more daughters caused her, the lack she felt at being the only one.

The way she felt alone sometimes, even when she was surrounded by others, the lonely only daughter of Whitebeard.

"What's all this about?" Bee asked, utterly baffled as the boys gathered around her, trying to keep in their giggles as they basically dragged her down a hall. For a moment, she wondered what the point of all this was. Some sort of prank? But it was so blatant. Usually, they tried to be more clever (or at least, when they bothered. She had made it very clear that she would only tolerate certain pranks/jokes).

Directing her in front of a room, Marco was there waiting, looking excited and proud, his body practically vibrating. “Ma! Good you’re here, yoi.”

“Here for what?” She shook off several of the hands that had been pushing her forward.

“This!” Marco announced as he threw open the door. Bee flinched, expecting something to jump out. When nothing did, she slowly took a step inside. She felt Marco rush in behind her before slamming the door shut.

It was just a small room with a single large chest in the middle and nothing else. Looking around she couldn’t imagine what on earth they were in here for.

“Marco, what—”

“Open the chest!” he interrupted with a large smile. He held the knob with his hands behind his back, bracing against the door as loud knocking thudded across the wood.

Bee folded her arms and tapped her foot. His smile turned a little pleading. “Aw, Ma, it’s not a prank I promise. They just wanted to be included but we can’t all squeeze in here. I know that would make you anxious, yoi.”

The thought alone made her shiver. She hated crowds especially in cramped spaces. “Alright, thank you for the thought.”

A loud bang made him jolt against the door. “Maybe make it quick?” he offered and she shook her head before crouching before the chest.

It was a struggle just to open the thing, the lid was so heavy. As she lifted the top up, she tried to hold on to keep it from slamming but halfway through gravity took over and she dropped it, causing a bang against the floor. Bee flinched at the noise before the sight before her made her gasp.

The chest was completely filled with pearls. Heart in her throat, she held a hand over her mouth in surprise. She glanced over her shoulder at Marco who beamed back at her.

“Pops wants you to join the crew!”

Shakily she dropped her hand. “I’m not a pirate though I don’t—”

“You’re plenty helpful, yoi!” Marco argued. “The whole crew agreed.”

She highly doubted that, thinking of a certain blue-haired pirate. Marco read her thoughts immediately.

“Even Whitey, yoi.” Bee shot him a disbelieving look and he grinned. “I swear! Told Pops and everythin’.”

Glancing back at the pearls she ran a hand over them, feeling the smooth texture across her palm. She dipped her fingers in, before wiggling to just watch them roll across one another.

“You gotta pick at least two, but there’s no limit.”

“No limit? What, so I can take the whole chest?”

Bee didn’t need to see him to hear the smile in his voice. “Yup! Someone did that before, we have more chests hidden around.”

“I see.” Moving the pearls around slowly she spotted a black pearl, not her normal preference, and was about to let it roll away when her skin caught on it in a weird way. Picking it up she examined it. It was carved with the shape of a whale along with smaller patterns decorated the surface.

The sight of it made her smile and she clenched her left hand around it. For no reason at all, she started digging, just to feel the pearls move along her hand and to hear them click against each other. Something large and white caught her attention and she unearthed it. It was a larger than average pearl, almost the span of her palm slightly flat. For some reason, it called to her and she stood.

“Done already?” Marco asked. “You can always take more time, Ma.”

“Nah, I’m good. What happens now?”

“Now we go to Pops!”

On the way over, everyone who had gathered outside the door followed, wanting to see the pearls Bee picked. They were passed around and, as they approached Whitebeard’s door, she couldn’t stop smiling, the edges of it hurting her cheeks.

Whitey Bay stood waiting outside of the door and their little precession stopped abruptly. Someone handed her back the pearls—she thought it might be Thatch—before Whitey sighed.

“Just wanted to welcome you to the crew,” she explained airily. There was a meaningful cough from the crowd and Whitey scowled before she met Bee’s eyes. “Ma,” she said, a little disgruntled.

Bee blinked and then she couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter. Walking forward she grabbed Whitey up for a brief hug. The other woman didn’t have much time to react before she pulled back, not wanting to push her luck.

“Thank you, Whitey. You don’t gotta call me that, just Bee is fine.”

Whitey sighed with relief. “Thanks, they forced me.” She waved her hand towards the crowd behind Bee.

“She’s a good ma!” Someone called out and Whitey snorted before she looked down at Bee. They shared a look before bursting out into laughter.

“Better get goin’, I’ve been hearing Pops pacing in his room. If you keep him waiting, he might just break down the door,” Whitey whispered and Bee nodded.

“Okay, got it.”

Whitey squeezed her hand before giving her a small smile. “Good luck, Ma.” Immediately she scowled as the crowd exploded into cheers. “Shut up!”

“You said it, we all heard it!”

Quickly, Bee slipped away and opened the door before she could get caught up. Closing it behind herself, she made sure to lock it before turning.

Whitebeard was standing, looking very much like she caught him mid-pace. She cracked a smile and he chuckled at himself before taking a seat on his bed.

“Little one,” he greeted with an affectionate rumble. “What’s going on out there?”

The ruckus could be heard from inside, although muffled by the door.

“Ah,” she shrugged a shoulder. “Whitey called me Ma.” Eddie’s eyebrows rose in surprise before he laughed.

The tremor of it shook the walls and made her heart lurch with fondness. She loved his laugh, loved how each one he put his whole body into, leaning back his head and how his moustache and hair shook with it.

When it ended, he opened his eyes to stare at her before offering a hand. She took it gently, allowing him to tug her closer.

He smiled down at her. “You know,” Whitebeard began, “one of those pearls is supposed to go to me.”

“Supposed to?” she echoed with a cocked brow. She knew how this worked, the pearls in his room explained it well enough. “Are you saying you don’t want one?” He chuckled.

“Not that I don’t want one, just...” He hesitated. Strange. Bee had never seen him hesitate before. “I just need to be sure it’s what you want.”

Bee stared at him, confused. “Want to what? Be on the crew? I won’t be able to do much but—” Eddie sighed, agitated before a large hand brushed against her face and the rest of her sentence died in her throat as a thumb tilted her chin up.

She was still trying to work through what was happening when he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. It was such a simple thing, just his slightly chapped lips on hers, the brush of his facial hair sweeping against her face.

Her heart pounded so hard, her body shook with it. Unable to respond, the kiss was short-lived as he drew back, opening his eyes to look at her. The honey-brown of them held her captive as she gaped.

“To be on the crew, sure. But mostly if you’d want to be with me.” His eyes darkened with promise and all the blood rushed to her head as she tried to work out exactly what he meant.

“Wait, hold on I don’t, uh,” she stumbled over her words as the hand that was holding hers wrapped around her back and pulled her closer. Standing between his spread legs, his large frame looming over her, Bee didn’t feel fear. Instead, it was just a lot of uncertainty and anxiety, hope and doubt equally at odds with each other.

“Don’t? You don’t?” Eddie repeated, gaze intense. Trying to buy some time, Bee reached out and slapped a hand over his eyes. Trying to catch her breath, she stood there as he froze beneath her hand. “…Bee?” he finally questioned.

“I’m processing, hold on.”

There was a brief silence.

“Can I—”

“Shhh! No.” Tucking the pearls in her other hand into her pants pocket she took a second to admire him. “Keep your eyes closed,” she instructed as she pulled her hand away.

Edward huffed but did as she said. Slowly she trailed her fingers up the sides of his face. Brushing across his eyebrows and lightly against his blonde eyelashes.

“Can I look now or—” he asked, peeking at her through one scrunched-up eye. Bee covered it.

“No, I’m still processing.”

He hummed. The hand, still a warm presence on her back, put a bit of pressure on her, indicating he would like to push her closer but it was light enough she could stand her ground if she wanted. She didn’t budge.

Releasing his eye, she ran her hands down to his moustache and went to touch it when he suddenly turned to the side and pressed a kiss against one hand. She frowned and with the other hand tugged at a bit of his hair.

“Hey mister, I’m still processin’ here.”

Edward chuckled. “Are you? Seems to me you’re just wasting time.”

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll leave,” she threatened. He sighed but relented, settling back down.

One hand still in his hair, she buried it deeper while with the other she grabbed onto his chin. Tilting his head to the side, she started laying little kisses against his cheek, and he sighed again, this time sounding relieved.

Luckily, he kept his eyes closed as her hands directed his movements, laying kisses all across his face: his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his brow line.

Gathering her courage, she fisted a hand in his long hair before tilting her head and bringing their lips together at last.

Immediately the hand at her back tightened and he didn’t waste any time bringing her body closer, as if the thread of his patience had finally been broken. He groaned into her mouth before her feet left the ground as his arm picked her up.

Bee yelped in surprise, trying to pull away but Edward’s lip chased hers and once again caught them in another searing kiss. Somehow both her hands got tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss, a hot swipe of tongue against her lips.

Opening her mouth, she felt like Edward was trying to devour her. Surrounded by the entirety of him, there was nowhere to go, there was simply him.

Gasping for breath she finally succeeded in pulling away, panting into the space between them. Edward rested his forehead against her as he grinned.

“So, what was your answer?” he asked cheerfully.

“That wasn’t answer enough!?” Bee shot back with another tug at his hair. He threw his head back in a laugh before gathering her further up towards his face as he nuzzled into her.

“Careful,” he mumbled, voice dark with promise. “Keep pulling on my hair and I might end up liking it too much.” Eddie turned his head to look up at her with a large smile. She huffed and started to wiggle.

“Ha ha very funny, let me down, Edward.”

“Ah little Bee, I just love teasing you, you know that.”

“S’not that funny,” she grumbled.

He straightened and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I love you,” he confessed lowly, pulling back to look her in the eye. “I want you to stay here with me, with my family. I know you’re not a pirate and I don’t give a damn. We’ll train you up a bit and it might be a hard life, with scary moments. I can’t change the kind of life I live.

“However, as long as you’re with me? I’ll protect you with my life, that I can promise you. The whole crew would as well, that I have no doubt of.” Edward ran a revenant thumb across her cheek, achingly gentle. “But only if you wanted. If you didn’t want this kind of life—well, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“What, so if I wanted out, I’d get to keep my pearls and the kisses?” Bee asked, tone teasing. His eyes crinkled in a smile.

“The kisses were free.”

“Ohhh really?”

“Yes, more of a bonus for me. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” she wheedled, still joking around.

“Just in case you decided to leave, I didn’t want to let you go without kissing you at least once,” Edward answered, completely serious.

Bee’s breath left her in a whoosh. “You can’t just say shit like that, Eddie.” He raised a brow.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Who knew you were a secret romantic.”

Whitebeard rolled his eyes. “You still haven’t given me an answer,” he pointed out.

“It’s a yes. Of course it is, how could it be anything else?”

His arm squeezed her before his lips left little dots of kisses all over her face and she laughed, joy fizzling in her gut. Slowly he brought her back down to the floor and she stumbled a little when he released her, weak in the knees.

“Now about that pearl…” His eyes looked hungry and while she knew it wasn’t because of the pearl she pouted.

“What kind of confession is this? Give me some kisses and then demand payment? Rude of you.”

“It’s a promise,” Edward said, voice dark and heavy with meaning and she couldn’t help but shiver at it. “A bond. The pearl shows that you mean it, little one.”

She hummed, glaring just a little as she dug into her pocket. “I said yes already, I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Edward smiled. “I know. It’s just a physical representation, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” she repeated, just a little snottily, just to be a pain. Bee could tell how much this meant to him though and easily held out a clenched fist. “Here, I picked this one because it reminded me of you.”

Eagerly, he held out his palm and Bee dropped the pearl. It was the large white one, looking almost the size of a normal pearl in his huge hand.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes, Eddie saw probably more pearls than most people saw in their entire lives. But the earnestness in his voice kept her from saying anything. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and tilted her head up.

Catching on what she wanted immediately, Whitebeard leaned down to kiss her again. And again, and again. A whirlwind of kisses, hugs, and muttered promises somewhere in-between, as they got lost in each other.

“Edward,” Bee announced loudly, her hands on her hips as she faced him on the deck days later. “Why have you taken my pearl hostage?”

“Hostage?” he repeated, cheek propped on a fist, in his normal chair. “What makes you say that?”

Her nose flared, not buying his act for a second. “I asked for it to be made into a necklace and I haven’t gotten it back yet. When I asked they said you had it.”

Pearls could be made into jewelry, standard fare for the Whitebeard Pirates. Edward tried—and failed—to look innocent.

“Now there must be some mistake, I didn’t—”

“Edward,” she cut him off, expression clouded as her brow furrowed with displeasure. “Where is my necklace.”

He sighed before he patted his lap. Begrudgingly she came closer and he snatched her up, positioning her himself, leaving her grumbling at the treatment.

“I was hoping this would be a surprise to have in my cabin, not out on deck,” Edward started as he dug into his pocket.

Immediately her expression cleared as she straightened. “A surprise?” Eddie knew her well enough by now that just the very mention meant it was as good as ruined, she wouldn’t wait to get whatever it was.

“Your necklace.” He dangled the carved black pearl on a silver chain in front of her and she snapped it up greedily before looking it over. It didn’t look any different than what she was expecting and she looked up at him with confusion.

Eddie shrugged a shoulder. “Put it on, the surprise is next.”

Bouncing with excitement, she unclasped it before reclasping it around her neck. She was almost tempted to ask Edward for help but with his large hands it would take forever and impatience already tugged at her.

Once it was settled, she peered up at him and he looked a little awkward before holding out a fist. “It’s not really for you,” Edward attempted to warn.

Already she was tugging at his fingers, “Lemme see!”

With another sigh he unfurled his fingers, leaving a gleaming silver ring settled in the middle of it. She grabbed it before turning it over in her hands and she gasped. The white pearl she had picked for him was laid in the ring.

“It’s my pearl!” A hesitant hand curled around her back.

“I wasn’t sure if it was presumptuous of me—”

“Because it’s a ring? Why would it bother me? Put it on, lemme see what it looks like!”

He grimaced, the hand that was around her back sliding away to accept the ring back. There was a slight pause before he quickly slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand.

Bee blinked a few times before she took his hand into both of hers to stare at it.

“I can change it, if it bothers you—”

“I love it,” she whispered, interrupting his thought.

Edward heaved a relieved sigh. “Do you?”

“Yeah I…I really do.” A warm kiss was pressed against her temple, the silent vow hanging heavy between them. “You’ll keep it there, right?” she asked.

Who knows how it started, Bee had grabbed onto his arm as they descended the concrete steps, and between one breath and the next he had her against the wall, kissing her deeply, her hands buried into his hair.

The taste of her filled his mouth as he breathed in the sweet smell of her perfume, and his hands clutched at her small body. He could almost fit his hands around her waist and didn’t that send a thrill through him? She whimpered into his mouth as one of his hands trailed beneath a thigh and he growled back, finally biting into her lip like he wanted to, and she gasped so sweetly her legs clenching around his body.

He couldn’t resist—he really should have known better— but he couldn’t stop himself from working a hand under her dress and pressing a curious thumb against her slit. His blood boiled when Edward realized how damp she was already, causing a bit of moisture to rub against his thumb as she broke away from his kiss with a broken moan, echoing around the enclosed parking lot. Her nails dug into his shoulders, but he hardly felt it, past the buzzing in his ears as he contemplated how best to situate her where he could ground his growing bulge against her core and also kiss her when a loud whistle along with some cheering broke him from his thoughts.

Bee ducked her head under his chin, obviously embarrassed as he shot a fierce glare over his shoulder and his cheering sons skittered away, giggling to themselves. Still, it wasn’t a bad reminder of where he was, and he slowly brought her back to her feet. Gods, but he felt like a teen again, necking in the backseat of his father’s truck in some abandoned parking lot.

She grabbed at his forearm as if to steady herself once he let go completely and he held still before she straightened. “Alright?”

“Fine,” Bee answered, voice already raspy and strained, the sound of it made his cock twitch in his slacks. Later, he reminded, as he cleared his throat.

“This way,” he said, laying a hand on the small of her back and directing her forward.

They came up to the familiar dented and nicked blue exterior of the Moby Dick, his old-fashioned van serving him for many many years. It might groan and croak like she was dying, but she had always treated him well.

That was, until a haggard sigh came behind them and he turned to see Haruta standing there with his hands on his hips. He remembered at the last second but before he could defend himself, Haruta was already talking.

“Pops! Why do you always do this?! I can just give her back if you keep forgetting you gave her to me! Just trade me with your current car.”

Edward sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Now son, that’s no way to speak to your father…” He could feel Bee’s curious stare as she looked between the two of them.

Haruta let out a short laugh. “More like you can’t trade me or else Marco would kill you, just admit it old man. We can just trade for the night and swap in the morning?” he wiggled the keys with a wide smile.

For a moment he was tempted, Moby Dick’s familiar drive calling to him before Bee tugged at his jacket. Edward glanced down at her.

“What’s your current car?” she asked politely. He sighed before pointing across from where they were standing. She glanced over and her eyebrows rose.

“Is that a corvette?”

“The newest model,” Haurta crooned, and Edward winced. He hated the display of wealth, but Marco had gotten it as a Christmas present, a gift from a large swarth of his sons. They’d all come together to get it for him, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint them, yoi Marco had commented, a meaningful glint in his eye.

Privately, he hated the thing but what could he do?

“Ooh, I’ve never been in one, can we take that Edward?”

Haruta let out a cry of outrage, but Edward was already nodding and pulling her forward, happy that the stupid car could come in handy for this one thing.

“Not fair Pops! I know you hate that thing!” Haruta whined. He rolled his eyes before he clicked the keys and the doors unlocked, popping open Bee’s side for her and she ducked inside.

Getting into the driver’s seat was always a hassle, the car way too low for his bulk. Once he got settled, seatbelt fashioned, all the lights of the dash jabbed at him like a headache, and he had to clench his teeth as he started the engine.

Bee looked around as she buckled up. “Why do you hate it?”

He shrugged. “Not really my style. My sons picked it for me.” She hummed.

“It does seem a little small for you.”

Edward snorted. It was an understatement.

“Why don’t you get something else?” she asked.

“Gift from my sons, be a bit rude, wouldn’t it?”

“But if you hate it, shouldn’t they want you to get something you liked?” Edward had a flash of yearning for the Moby.

“Perhaps but I had been driving the van for years. Before some of them were even born; they were all worried it would crap out on me. I kept insisting it was fine, but they collectively put their foot down. Said if I’ve got money, I should at least show it some of the time.” Belatedly he wondered if he shouldn’t be mentioning his money. Was that a good or bad thing on a first date? Was that what they were doing, or just a one-night stand? Shit, it’d been too long since he’d done something like this. Edward had been so distracted with his sons and his company that everything else had fallen by the wayside, dating (and fucking) included.

Bee hummed before digging into her purse and pulling out her phone. Awkwardly, Edward turned up the radio wondering if she would become absorbed in the thing, as many of his sons did.

Immediately she turned the volume down. “What about this one?” she asked when he stopped at a red light, holding out her phone. He glanced over and was surprised at a photo of a nice older vehicle. It was still low to the ground, a two-seater but was a convertible, the design was good. Nice, rounded edges with large headlights. The kind of look that was timeless.

“Not sure if my sons would approve of another old car—” he began before she shook her head.

“This is a Morgan Plus 8, they were originally built in the 60s but were remade a few times. Some of these were released in 2019, there’s the newest model that came out in 2021. You could get a newer one, the design hasn’t changed that much.”

He thought it over in silence. “Pull up a picture of the dash, would you?”

At the next red light, she showed him, and he winced at the small screen he could see behind the wheel. “Wish all these new cars didn’t have screens,” he muttered with annoyance. There was an attempt to be true to the original, he could see in the design of the speed dials and such but still.

Taking the phone back she tapped a few times before holding it back out, another dash looked back at him, no screens in sight.

“This is the 2019 model, it’s very classic.”

Edward chuckled under his breath. “Is that what I am, classic?” he wondered. Bee grinned back.

“Everyone has their own style.”

“What do you drive?” he wondered aloud.

“2009 Volkswagen.”

Edward roared out a short laugh. “A bug!”

“What’s so funny?!” she demanded, and he shook his head.

“Just suits you.”

She laughed under her breath making him smile. They drove in silence once more before he had a realization.

“Going to my place was okay with you, right?”

Bee shoved her phone into her purse before glancing up at him. “You’re asking me this now? Kind of late don’t you think?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Better late than never, eh? I can always drop you off at home if you’d prefer.”

“I want to come over,” Bee said firmly before she picked at the hem of her dress. “As long as you still wanted—” Edward reached over and grabbed one of her hands, entwining their fingers.

Chuckling, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Excuse me, it’s been too long since I’ve done this. I want to.”

Her hand squeezed his. “No worries.”

A buzz in his pocket broke the quiet moment. Followed by several more. He frowned, determined to ignore it. Then more and more answering vibrations went off, and he growled before dropping her hand and digging into his pocket.

“Turn that off, would you?” Edward asked, handing her his phone. She opened it curiously.

Immediately she giggled and he peered over at her as she clicked down through the conversation. “What are they saying?” he asked, knowing full well it was his sons' group conversation.

She began to read aloud.

Haruta — 12:34AM

oi everyone dont go over to pops tonight hes got a girllllll

Izou — 12:34AM

A girl!? What girl, what was her name??

Marco — 12:34AM

since when did anyone see them at the party

Vista — 12:35AM

I’m assuming it’s the girl he was dancing with, in the green dress?

Izou — 12:35AM

That’ll be Bee then, she said she wanted to try to sleep with pops

Marco — 12:35AM

???

Izou — 12:36AM

Shit not my phone, this is thatch

Haruta — 12:37AM

CONGRATS THATCH ARE YOU GUYS GONNA FUCKKKKKK

Edward cut her off before she could read more. “That’s fine, just let them know that Haruta is right and that if they need to crash somewhere, to do it at one of their brothers.”

A part of him felt a little guilty, his home was the usual spot for them to come to whenever they needed it, New Years' was a big one for crashing at after they had stopped drinking. But he had a feeling Bee wouldn’t be comfortable hearing the door bang open at all hours of the night.

She took a moment to type on his flip-phone, the light of the dash shining on the tip of her tongue as she stuck it out, concentrating. It was endearing and he felt his heart squeeze at the gesture.

Pops — 12:39AM

Edward said that if you need to crash somewhere, do it at your brothers! Also Thatch, I hope you guys fuck!

-Bee

“Okay, I finished,” Bee said as she snapped the phone shut.

“Great you can just turn it off—” Immediately the phone started ringing. Her brows furrowed.

“It’s Marco?” she offered.

He cursed under his breath. “Go ahead and answer it, he’ll just show up at my door if I don’t, the brat.”

Bee opened the phone again. There was a brief pause, as Edward turned down the radio even more straining to hear. He couldn’t make out much but if he had to bet, Marco had immediately launched into a rant.

“Um, hello?” Bee finally interrupted a bit awkwardly. “Yes, this is Bee. No, he’s driving.” There was a hum. “Okay, I’ll tell him. Mmhm, bye.”

“What did he say?” Edward asked as waited for the gate to open.

“He said to call him—is this your house?!” she asked, voice awed as the gate opened and Edward started to pull up the long driveway.

“Ah, yes. You can’t see it right now in the dark, but we have a lot of planter boxes, I garden with a few of my sons here and there.”

“That’s so cute!” she gushed as he pulled into the garage. Instantly she got out and looked around. It was filled with numerous outdoor equipment. “You have a lot of stuff.”

Gingerly, Edward got out of the car. “Mostly my sons, so we can do whatever activity they’re into at the moment.”

“You really care for them,” Bee commented, and he smiled fondly.

“Sure do. They’re my life.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have more cars,” she said, stepping around the corvette and up to his side.

“Gotta keep it clear in here, else my sons will fill the entire driveway and they’ll all start bitching about who has to leave and how. Not worth the headache.”

Edward gave into temptation and ran a thumb over Bee’s jawline and down over her velvet-covered neck. The shiver he got in return was worth it, sending his blood simmering.

“Marco wanted you to call,” Bee reminded gently holding out his phone and he sighed. Taking it from her, he flipped it open while leading the way into the house.

Dialing his number, he listened to it ring a few times before Marco answered, sounding disgruntled. “Pops?”

“Yes, it’s me son,” Edward answered. “What did you need?”

“Who did you leave with, yoi?” Marco asked, petulantly. Edward turned on the kitchen light as he passed before gesturing to the nearby living room for Bee. After she awkwardly trailed inside, he went further into the hallway.

“Bee, Thatch’s friend. Don’t think I need the check-in, son,” he replied, voice a little hard. This was one of the reasons he didn’t date much. Although busy with his work and being there for his sons (plus the fact that most partners didn’t understand the sheer amount of time Edward had to carve out for them all), his first son always acted like this whenever he did manage to bring someone around. Pouty and upset, like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away.

Not that Edward would ever make the comparison to Marco himself, but it fit. Luckily Marco was nothing but loving towards his brothers, but towards anyone Edward himself might see as a partner? For some reason, he felt like they might be competing. For what, he had no idea. His time? Marco’s status as the right-hand man in their family? Who knew.

“I’m just worried, Pops! You’re bringin’ in someone who you don’t even know.”

Sensing a rant incoming, he tried to head it off. “Now son, Thatch likes her just fine. I’d like to have just one night without all this concern. It’s not like she’s going to slit my throat in my sleep, right?”

The deadly silence that met that remark had a bead of sweat drip down Edward’s back. “Son—”

“See but that’s the thing, you don’t know anything her, yoi. She could totally do that and try to rob you and—” There was a scuffle as someone called out an annoyed ‘Marco!’

Edward held the phone away from his ear with a wince as the sounds of a fight broke out. Finally, someone came back on the line.

“Hello?” It was the mellow voice of Namur.

“Hello son,” Edward greeted with a tired chuckle.

“Sorry about Marco, Jozu’s got him restrained.”

Edward rubbed his forehead. “It’s fine, see if you can convince him I’ll be alright?”

“We’ll try. At the very least we’ll make sure he doesn’t show up at your door tonight,” Namur replied mildly. A loud wordless shout in the background and he coughed. “Can’t promise about tomorrow morning though.”

He sighed. “Whatever you can manage I’d appreciate it. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Turn off your phone for now, Pops. Ignore him, he’s just being a spoiled brat.”

“All of you are spoiled brats,” Edward answered with a large grin, making his way back to the living room. Bee perched at the edge of the couch cushion awkwardly, a book opened in her lap, having already shed her jacket.

Namur laughed lowly. “Suppose so. Makes you quite the father huh? Love ya, Pops. If Marco heads your way tomorrow a lot of us will probably pile in, so might want to get your lady friend out of there pretty early if you want to miss the herd.”

“Thank you son, be safe out there. Love you.”

“Bye, Pops,” Namur answered before hanging up. Edward collapsed onto the couch next to her with an exhausted sigh. Quickly he remembered to turn the blasted phone off before he threw it on the coffee table.

“Sorry about that,” he managed to apologize, looking over at her.

Bee shrugged. “It’s fine, everything okay?”

“One of my sons, my eldest,” he rubbed at his temple, closing his eyes. “Always gets so worried when I bring anyone around, he’s being a mother hen at the moment.”

“Which one? The blonde with the weird hair?” she asked, and he felt her body shift. Cracking open one eye Edward peered over at her to see Bee holding out a photo album.

Both eyes opened with interest as he straightened and leaned closer. He smiled. “Yeah, that’s Marco. Is this the one with the baby photos? Even though he isn’t my oldest son in age, I adopted him first and he was the youngest I ever had, so he’s technically been with me the longest.”

Silently she handed it over and he flipped through the pages quickly. “Ah, there’s the little devil!” he crooned with a laugh, pointing.

Bee leaned against his side to look. A tiny boy stood holding his hands out towards the camera, in a yellow raincoat with a matching yellow hat, and a duck face on it. “He’s adorable.”

Edward smiled before Bee let out a loud yawn and her body pressed in harder against his side. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, practically in his lap. “Tired, little one?”

“Mm,” she muttered in agreement. “Don’t normally stay up this late.” Snapping the book shut he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table, easily taking Bee with him before he settled back, positioning her on his chest and she nuzzled into him with a tired purr.

With one hand he pulled down his necktie and struggled to take it off. Placing it on the couch cushion, he made a mental note to remember to pick it up later before it became lost forever.

Small hands distracted him as they started undoing his shirt buttons, and he lifted his neck as Bee undid about half of them before slipping a hand inside.

“You’re not wearing an undershirt?” she asked. He sighed at the feeling of her soft fingertips trailing so gently over his skin.

“Obviously not,” he replied. Edward grinned at a joke before he added, “Wanna check what else I’m not wearing?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively down at her and she laughed before sitting up and bracketing his hips with her legs. Automatically his hands slide to her waist, loving the feeling of her soft dress beneath his palms.

“Oh, you should know I do hate liars,” Bee said with a wicked smile. “So, am I really about to get a surprise or no?” She tugged at his tucked-in shirt meaningfully and he chuckled.

“Alright, maybe not that much of a surprise,” he conceded, trailing a hand up her back and tangling into her hair. Her brown eyes closed as she pushed back into his hand, lifting her neck. For a moment, Edward was disappointed that the high collar covered so much, he would have liked to see the curve of her throat. He licked his lips, thinking about biting down on it. Later.

With effort, he didn’t push, just left his hand tangled without trying to direct. Wanted to see what she’d do next. After a few seconds her eyes fluttered open, before she yawned again, showing off straight teeth.

Eyes half-lidded she returned to trying to tug free his shirt. When she finally managed it, she unbuttoned the rest before pulling back with surprise. She stared silently.

“Something the matter?” Edward finally asked after the silence had stretched, slightly worried.

“Do you…do you seriously have a six-pack?” Bee asked, awe coloring her voice as she ran a reverent hand down his stomach, her fingers dipping into the panes of his muscles. He shivered.

“Work out with my sons,” he explained.

Bee blinked a few times before looking up at him. “Do you do anything alone?”

The question made him chuckle. “Not really, no.” There was a brief pause. “Problem?”

She seemed to come back into herself as she shook her head. “No, sorry was just trying to compute this. Aren’t you in your fifties?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at her gobsmacked face. “Not bad, eh?”

“That’s an understatement,” Bee muttered under her breath. “You know what,” she said louder. “It’s late maybe I should get going—”

He caught her as she tried to slip off his lap, standing quickly, holding her in a bridal carry. “Now, where do you think you’re going, hm?”

Bee squirmed in his grasp. “Oh, not sure if”—she gestured at herself with a hand— “I’m going to compete with all that.”

Edward chuckled darkly as he made his way through the house. “It’s not a competition dear, you’re beautiful.”

“Haven’t seen me naked,” Bee denied.

“I’d like to,” he growled lowly, and she looked away.

Coming into his bedroom, he plopped her onto the mattress before moving to turn on the bedside lamp—the light was less harsh than the overhead light—and clicked it on when she rose to her elbows.

“Are you leaving on the lights?”

“The lights?” he repeated.

There was a slight pout on her face as she looked out the open doorway. “In the kitchen and living room.” He stood there, feeling slightly off-kilter. Was she seriously telling him to turn off the lights? In his own house?

“Would you like me to…turn them off?” Edward offered at last. She nodded and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anything else, while I’m up?” he tacked on, just the slightest bit annoyed.

“Water, if you have any,” Bee answered without hesitation. He walked away muttering under his breath. It was almost in him to be upset about the request but at the same time, she had been drinking. Water was probably a good idea. But still, all the stalling was getting to him. Riling him up and then leaving him hanging.

Not that she was teasing, not really, he reflected, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. At least not on purpose. He wondered what she’d be like if she was more comfortable. Probably a little demanding, he thought with a chuckle, as he turned off the kitchen, then the living room light. He followed the hall back to his room, a faraway yellow light his only beacon. Edward wondered if he’d like it, her self-assuredness, telling him exactly what she wanted, not quite so quick to back off. He’d seen it in little moments here and there. He burned at the thought. Little Bee, so confident, so commanding. He’d probably love it, come to think about it.

Coming in, he took a moment to admire her, laying there on his bed, her hair a mess against his pillow, the light of the lamp bathing her in a warm glow. She had kicked off her shoes and her hair clip was already on his bedside table. Bee smiled sleepily at him before holding her hand out. He handed her the water bottle before sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes. He felt her body crawl behind him.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

“It’s my sock suspender,” Edward answered, feeling a well of dread in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, she didn’t react the way his sons did when they saw it…

The loud burst of laughter dashed that hope quickly. “Why do you,” she struggled to breathe through her laughter. “Why are you wearing garter belts for your socks?! Ahaha!” Bee fell back on the bed, giggling at the ceiling. Edward slipped off the socks and stuffed them into his shoes. 

He frowned as he turned before grabbing the still open water bottle from her fist. “Careful, don’t spill it,” he scolded before finding the cap and closing it. Placing it on the table, he bent once more to pick up his shoes and walked over to a nearby chair. Slipping out of his suit jacket and shirt quickly, he laid it over the back before placing the shoes on the cushion. He’d deal with it all later. 

Edward returned to the bed, seeing Bee look so small in the middle, a hand tangled in her hair as she still let out a giggle here and there. Crawling up, he came to a stop above her, arms caging her in.

Bee opened her eyes, mirth shining in the dark orbs before her hands came up to wrap around his neck.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a knowing smirk.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Edward grumbled, and she laughed again, like a bell ringing out.

Her hands trailed down his shoulders before letting her nails rack against his skin and he tremored at the feel of it. “Have I? Thought it was your sons that were distracting you.”

“You were the one with the bloody lights—” Bee pouted.

“It’s only polite to get a guest water, Eddie.”

He quirked a brow. “Eddie?”

“Ah, do you not like it?” she looked uneasy. “Nevermind, sorry—”

The thread of his patience finally unraveled, and he leaned down to capture her lips in his. It was like a dam that had broken, as their touches instantly turned needy and desperate, wanting to get as close as possible. Her legs wrapped around him, as she opened her mouth with a gasp. Edward delved inside, hungry for her, while one hand grabbed at her ass, kneading one cheek while the other trailed up her back.

Breaking the kiss, he panted into her mouth, “How do I get the dress off—”

Her keen wasn’t an answer, but he groaned at the sound all the time. Leaving her lips behind, he trailed kisses over her throat—still covered, damnit—before ending at her bare shoulder. He bit slightly, more of a suggestion of teeth than an actual bite and she arched her back with a loud moan, digging into his shoulders, pressing herself further into his mouth.

Edward growled around her skin and bit harder. “Eddie,” Bee whimpered. “Please, please, I—”

“Fuck!” he cursed as he withdrew. “The dress, Bee,” he hissed, firm in the command. She likes biting, he filed the information away for later.

Small hands pushed at his chest and he reluctantly relented, giving her enough space to sit up. Her hands started fumbling with the back of the neck. “Can I help?” he asked.

“It’s small buttons,” she explained, panting. “Unless you think you can get it?” Bee shot a look at his hands, and he grinned.

“Nah, best not.”

Finally, the collar came off and she held her hands against her chest awkwardly to keep it from falling. He pulled her close between his parted knees as he kneeled on the bed. Leaning down to press a kiss against her cheek he whispered, “You’re beautiful, little Bee. We can stop if you want but just know I’ve been wanting this since you first came up to me, so bold in your introduction.”

There was an intake of breath. “Wasn’t that bold, I hardly flirted with you.”

He hummed, rubbing against her face, trailing a few fingers down her exposed back. “But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she whispered back, a breathy confession as she shook, whether from nerves or lust he couldn’t tell. Edward pulled back to smile.

“Let me see you,” he ordered gently, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. She bit her bottom lip again and he grabbed at the side of one thigh, rubbing his thumb across the skin there. Patience, Edward had to remind himself firmly, wanting to press her back into the mattress rip off the dress and take.

But no, what he wanted more was her acceptance, Bee had to want it, just as much as he did. Finally, her hands fell away from her chest and the dress pooled into her lap.

His blue eyes took her in, licking his lips with appreciation as his fingers trailed up her sides and she flinched away from it—ticklish then. Cupping her breasts he rubbed his thumbs across her nipples, bringing them to hardened perks before going to pinch lightly. Her small hands grabbed onto his wrists, and she shook her head.

“M’sensitive, you gotta be careful,” Bee informed as he froze. Edward chuckled under his breath before dipping down once more to kiss her, she meant his kiss eagerly as he pulled her against his chest with a hand at her back, using the other to help slide the dress down her legs and tossing it somewhere. Finally feeling her bare skin against his was quickly sending all the remaining blood in his head south.

Soft, his brain muttered as he used the distraction of their kiss to really let his hands roam over her body. Edward didn’t understand her embarrassment about her appearance. If it was the fact that she didn’t have a perfectly flat/toned stomach compared to him, then that hardly bothered him. If anything, he liked the feel of her against him. How he could grab onto her thick thighs and not be able to instantly close his hand around them.

Bee broke away from the kiss when his fingers tried to hook into her underwear, to get them to join her dress on the floor. “No, no,” she said with a slap at a hand and deftly avoided him when he tried to duck down to capture her lips once more. “Lay down,” she commanded with a shove at his shoulder.

“Cheeky,” he said with a grin as he shuffled his way up the bed before laying down as she ordered. Edward watched as she settled herself between his legs. Grabbing at his prominent bulge she giggled.

“Someone’s excited huh?” she asked with a satisfied smirk. Edward rolled his eyes as his cock jumped in her hand as she rubbed over it.

“Maybe if someone hadn’t been teasing me for so long,” he said meaningfully. She tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder in a wave of black curls.

“Who me?” Bee asked innocently as she began to finally, finally start to undo his button and brought the zipper down. “Not sure what you mean.”

Edward lifted his hips so she could tug down his slacks and underwear in one go. Once his cock sprang free, it instantly left a sticky trail of precum as it bounced against his stomach. He’d really been on the edge too long, he thought, seeing the angry purple-red of his cockhead peeking out from around his foreskin.

Bee only got them halfway down his thighs before she stopped to stare. “What the fuck is that,” she stated flatly. He raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“This needs a warning label, that is way too big.”

If Edward were a lesser man, he might have covered himself. As it was, he just blinked a few times. “I think it matches my height…” he trailed off awkwardly.

She raised her eyes from his dick to meet his gaze. “I don’t think that'll fit.” He pursed his lips to keep a burst of laughter at bay.

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” he tried to soothe. Bee looked back down skeptically before working off the rest of his pants and throwing them to the floor. A hand shot out and wrapped around the shaft, giving his cock a hard squeeze. His breath hissed out between his teeth at the pressure.

“My hand doesn’t even come close to wrapping around it,” she muttered as his hips twitched upwards to meet her lazy strokes. He might have wheezed out a groan, eyes rolling back.

When Edward refocused on her, she was still staring at his cock like it was a puzzle she had to work out. Bee leaned down and licked a firm stripe across the slit, before covering it with her lips and sucking clean the precum gathered there. This time he really did groan as she quickly started lapping at it, pushing the foreskin down with her lips before lavishing the head with a volley of licks and sucks.

“Shit, Bee,” he moaned as he reached out a hand to bury into her hair. Instantly she popped off.

“Don’t push on me,” she warned darkly. “I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“I’m going to explode if you don’t do something,” he complained.

She giggled. “And not the pleasant kind of exploding I’m guessing?”

“Bee,” Edward growled, and her head dipped down as both hands firmly wrapped around the base. She flattened her tongue as she started to bob up and down his cock, spreading drool around. After a few strokes she released his cock to spit over the head before using her hands to spread it over his shaft and he groaned.

She shot him a grin before she dove back down. He could tell she was trying to take him deeper and deeper into her throat. Her hands worked him over, as she gagged around his length.

Feeling her throat tightening around him, Edward couldn’t help it, his hand shot out and forced her lower, just once to feel her gag again before he let go and she sat up, coughing.

“What was that for?!” she demanded, rubbing away tears from her eyes. Although he felt a little guilty, seeing her flushed face and wet eyes his cock gave another twitch at the sight.

“Sorry dear,” he apologized, rising up on an elbow. “Let’s focus on you, eh?” When Bee hesitated, he quirked a brow as he sat up fully. “What’s wrong now?”

She wouldn’t meet his eye. “I didn’t exactly, um—” Bee pressed a finger to her bottom lip, chewing idly. He thumbed at it until she released it and looked up, startled.

“Um?” Edward pressed.

“I didn’t shave,” she confessed lowly. “Or I don’t…I don’t really shave at all so it’s natural I know most guys don’t like that…”

Fire blazed through his veins at the thought, and he had to bite down on his tongue so he didn’t growl and upset her. “That’s fine,” he said lowly, voice gravely. “It doesn’t bother me, come here little Bee.”

Bee still looked uncertain and that just wouldn’t do at all. Quickly he grabbed her up and flipped their positions, as she squeaked from the sudden manhandling. He had to force himself to control his breathing and calm down, as she stared up at him—eyes wide with surprise.

He stroked her cheek gently before dragging his fingers down her skin. Edward reveled in her shiver as he passed by the middle of her breasts and over her stomach. She quivered as his hand ended at her underwear, a simple black pair lined with lace.

“Okay?” he asked, and she buried half her face into the pillow, twisting her body a little. A half-lidded eye watched him as she nodded. Immediately, he hooked his thumbs at the sides of her underwear before tugging it down. Licking his lips at the curly mound that was exposed he casually tossed the underwear before running a few fingers through the patch of black hair.

It was coarse and a thrill shot down his spine as he untangled a few knots, watching as she squirmed. Finally, his fingers dipped lower and pressed against her folds. He delighted at how wet Bee was already, as she sighed once, the sound of it on a verge of a moan. A thumb circled around her clit before he pressed his middle finger in.

His other hand tightened the grip he had on her hip, as the finger sunk in deeper. Edward watched her face hungrily as he took a brief moment to compose himself before he started to pump his solitary digit in and out, her wet heat making the slide of it easy.

This time she really did moan, canting her hips up, chasing the feeling of his finger. He grinned as he went faster. Bee had closed her eyes, but the little ‘o’ of her mouth was intoxicating, as her brows furrowed.

More, he wanted to see more, as he pulled his finger completely out. Looking down, he went to watch as his ring finger joined the other, slowly going to press once more inside her, when she grabbed at his wrist and he stilled.

Looking up, he caught Bee’s pinched expression. “What—”

“I don’t like two fingers,” she explained.

His mouth dropped. “I’m not sure you’re going to get stretched out properly with just one finger, my dear.”

Bee’s lips twisted into a frown. “Fingers never feel that good if it’s more than one, can’t I just get stretched out by your dick? Can you do it slowly?”

It took him several seconds to process the words before he let out a snarl, grabbed up her wrist and pressed it against the pillow next to her head. Quickly he laid his body over hers, loving the feel of it so small beneath him before catching her lips in a greedy kiss.

Her free hand reached up to tangle into his hair, as he swallowed down her confused noises. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he shifted to rub his cock against her stomach, spreading precum over her skin. When they separated he growled into her face.

“You can’t just say shit like that little Bee.”

For her part, she just panted at him. “Say what?” Apparently, he was distracting enough to make her a bit slow on the uptake. Edward flipped them again, making her land with an ‘oomph’ on his chest.

Immediately, his hands reached out to squeeze around her thighs. “You start us then, I don’t know if I can handle going slow if you’re going to be saying shit like that in my face, all innocent-like.”

Her expression cleared. Ah, must have realized what she said; Edward scoffed as she smiled, pleased as punch.

Wiggling her ass against him, Bee lifted herself before wrapping a hand around his dick. Lowering herself, he groaned when he realized she was only rubbing her cunt along his shaft, drooling warm juices along it. “Um,” she began as his patience fizzled unpleasantly. “Do you have condoms?”

Edward blinked at her before he cursed under his breath. “Bedside table,” he answered. Smart of her, it hadn’t occurred to him in the heat of the moment. It was lucky he had put her on top, he likely would have tried to press into that tight heat, just to hear her gasp. He had to reach down and squeeze his cock at the thought as she leaned forward.

There were a few seconds of digging before she settled back, box in her hands. She peered inside. “Uhhh.”

He waited impatiently until she tipped the box towards him and showed an empty interior. Edward rubbed his forehead with a groan of irritation. “Probably some of my sons have been stealing them and didn’t replace it.”

Bee examined the box. “They can fit in this size?”

Edward made a noncommittal noise, disgruntled. “Some probably. Got a couple of shy ones who might have been swiping them. Or someone wanted to be funny.” Bee hummed.

“Hilarious.”

In the meantime, his erection had flagged from all the waiting and resulting disappointment. That was until Bee shifted back to rub her folds once more across his dick, dropping the box onto the floor. Edward hissed as he grabbed onto her hips and forced her still.

“Don’t tease me,” he growled, and she smiled, the edges of it just the slightest bit uncertain.

“I’m on birth control,” Bee began, licking her lips. “And I’m clean, if you still wanted?” He stared.

“You sure?” Edward pressed, not wanting to force but—he was immediately interested. Idly, he rubbed small circles with his thumbs, still encircling her hips. She nodded.

“As long as it’s okay with you. You’re clean right?”

He snorted. It’d been ages since he’d had unprotected sex. “Yeah, trust me. Marco is a doctor, I’ve got a clean bill of health. Can show you if you’re interested.”

“I trust you,” Bee said quickly as she tried to wiggle her hips. He released her and she settled back. Worming a hand between them, she gripped the base of his cock before raising up onto her feet. “Don’t move, this’ll take me a bit,” she warned before she lowered herself.

The moment his cockhead finally, finally breached her warm heat he had to grit his teeth, hissing out a moan. It was a struggle not to immediately buck up into that wet tightness, coiling so well along the head. Bee pursed her lips as she raised herself back up and almost off before dropping down a little further.

It felt like it took ages, as Bee worked her way down his cock. It was a challenge to stay still, as she went up and down every inch agonizingly slow. When she finally sank all the way, his cock buried to the hilt, she collapsed on his chest with a drawn-out whine, her walls clenching around him in a tight coil. They both had a thin layer of sweat from the wait.

His hips twitched upwards, and she groaned. “Not yet, I’m still getting used to it,” she complained but her actions didn’t match her words as her walls clamped around him, making him hiss.

“Aren’t you on it?” Edward bitched back. “Isn’t this used to it?” He used his hands to wrap around her hips and grinded down, making them both moan. His breathing grew heavy.

“G-go slow,” Bee ordered shakily. If it was anyone else, in any other situation he would have made a quip about her being on top and why was she making him do all the work. As it was, he’d been on the edge for too long to even comment as he used his grip to raise up her hips, letting his cock do a slowww grind out of her sopping wet pussy before pulling her back down just as slow, resheathing his cock.

Bee moaned, long and drawn out, nails digging into his skin. Once they were pressed completely skin to skin, she started to babble.

“Please, Eddie, more, more, more—” she rocked her hips against him, trying to get further as if there was anywhere else to go. That didn’t take long at all, and he would have scoffed if he had any brain cells left to think about anything else except more.

Tightening his grip, he did a couple of quick thrusts that had her keening; her juices dripped out between them, making the slide of it easy. Heat pooled in his gut and Edward knew he wouldn’t last long, damn. Maybe another time he could draw this out, make her whine and beg as he went terribly slow. Just to see her face.

Not today.

Edward withdrew, his cock drenched in her wetness, and she made a confused noise, but he didn’t explain. Just easily flipped her once again. Bee was so small, he wondered how many positions he could manhandle her in. Swallowing down spit at the thought, he wrapped her legs around his hips before pressing back in.

Bee gripped the bedsheets by her head as she moaned, back arching. When their hips met, she let out a sob of relief. “Fuck me, Edward,” she begged, and he didn’t need more encouragement.

With a grunt, he leaned forward on his hands before he started to thrust, no longer attempting to go slow. His balls slapped against her ass and fuck, she was loud. Little gasping moans and cries as he thrust into her, encouragements peppered the moans. His fingers clenched into the bedsheets, knuckles white. He really shouldn’t touch her like this, balancing on a knife’s edge. One to-tight grip could seriously bruise her.

But oh, did he want to, staring down into her face, drinking in every expression as their hips met, again and again as he thrusted. He could feel his orgasm building and he grunted.

“Bee—” he tried to ask what she needed before she keened at the sound of her name. Her legs rose even higher, and she tried to meet his thrusts, tilting her hips up.  “Fuck.” He reached out to try to thumb at her clit when she gasped out a broken moan.

Her hands reached out and clawed down his pecs. “Come here, come here!” she demanded as her legs tightened. When he leaned further over her, she exposed her neck. “Biteeee,” she drawled out the word, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, trying to tug him forward.

Shit, he’d have to really crane his back for this angle, but he wrapped an arm underneath her, curling over her body. Edward let his teeth drag along her skin—teasingly—as he slowly withdrew.

“Edwardddd, pleaseeee,” she whined before his lips closed over the flesh of her shoulder and he bit down—hard, while his hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt all in one motion. Bee screamed, her body a livewire as she shook in his grasp, orgasming around his dick.

He grunted and barely gave her time to still before he straightened out from his curl and pressed a forearm against the mattress before he began to really fuck into her, chasing his own release now. It hovered right there, as Bee moaned under him, grabbing her thighs and hiking them up further, so he slid that much further inside her with each brutal thrust. The noises she was making were slightly tenser, more pain than pleasure at this point.

The sound of their skin slapping together lit a fire through him, his skin tingling with electricity as his gut clenched. Edward pushed forward, practically bending her in half, as he stuffed himself full. He groaned as he released, pumping his cum deep inside.

They stayed like that for a moment, as Edward came down from his high before he slowly separated from her, letting her down. Bee groaned as they untangled themselves.  

“My back is gonna hurt tomorrow,” she complained. He snorted.

“You and me both, little one. My backs not made to bend like that.” He watched as she turned onto her side and curled, pouting.

“’M to short you mean,” Bee mumbled.

Edward rubbed her hip. “I like it, you’re cute. Easy to move.” A low ‘humph!’ made him smile. Eyeing her closed legs, he pushed them apart, trying to get a glance at her likely dripping pussy when she sat up with a frown.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He pointed over his shoulder to the master bathroom.

“It’s that way.”

He couldn’t help chuckling under his breath as she wobbled her way over, likely dripping cum down her thighs. He laid down with a satisfied groan. That was good. Edward drifted slightly, tiredness tugging at him when he heard the water running.

“Toothbrushes are under the skin,” he called. Blinking slowly in the light, between one blink and the next she appeared, and he stared sleepily at her naked form, looking so ethereal in the yellow light before patting the bed next to him.

Bee hesitated. “I can get an Uber home if you’d rather not have me spend the night…”

“Bee,” he growled. “Get in the bed.”

She smiled. “I need clothes then, to sleep in.”

“Fucking—” he got up, thoroughly disgruntled. “You are the pickiest woman I have ever met I swear,” Edward mumbled to himself as he left the room.

“Grab my purse, while you’re out there!” Bee yelled at his retreating back. He cursed under his breath.

After gathering up everything (and making a run to the bathroom to clean off his dick, he may as well if he was up) he returned. Once more she took up the center of the bed, but this time she was buried under the blankets.

“Comfortable?” he quipped and although her lips were covered, her eyes lit up, corners wrinkling into a tell-tale smile.

“I’ll be more comfortable when you get me some clothes.”

He rolled his eyes but threw the shirt at her before placing the purse on the bedside table. She sat up, letting the blanket fall and he crowded in close before she could reach for the t-shirt. Peppering her shoulders with small kisses, he let his hands cup her breasts, giving them a small squeeze and she laughed. She’d put on her underwear already, he noticed.

“Don’t know why you need them, you look just fine like this.”

“Charmer,” Bee said with a grin before she pushed at him. Reluctantly he released her tits as she pulled on the shirt. He watched them bounce before they were covered, and he let out a mournful sigh. One had a beauty mark on the side, he noticed. Cute. Bee leaned over to grab at her purse before kicking off the blankets. She pulled out a rolled-up ball of socks and he raised a brow.

Seeing his expression, she shrugged before leaning down to put them on. “My feet get cold I always gotta wear socks.” Now properly dressed she smiled at him, and he hummed. Seeing her so covered, one of his sons’ ratty old band t-shirts hanging off one shoulder he figured he ought to cover up some as well. Standing he quickly walked over to his dresser and slipped on a pair of black briefs before climbing up in the covers behind her, cuddling her close.

They took a few minutes to position themselves—at one point Bee reached out to turn the lamp off—before they settled. Edward was plastered against Bee’s back, wrapping her completely in his arms. Feeling her small body against his, Edward felt a moment of calm, pleasant and sweet. Lovely, she was lovely.

Bee awoke to the sound of a door slamming before multiple voices indistinguishable from each other echoed down the hall. She tensed, Edward still behind her, arm wrapped tight around her middle, hand wormed up under her shirt and laid across her stomach. She shook his arm urgently.

“Edward,” she hissed, trying to be heard over the man’s snores. He didn’t stir. “Edward,” Bee tried again before a figure came into the doorway and she froze.

Dark eyes surrounded by beautifully done make-up stared at her, hair piled in a neat bun, one long piece framing his face. He was beautiful and she felt for a moment like an ugly duckling in his presence.

“Pops,” he said once, and she felt Edward snort himself awake at once. What the fuck, she thought, enraged. That’s all it took to wake him up!?

“Izou,” Edward greeted sleepily before pulling her in closer and nuzzling into her hair. Embarrassment shot through her like lightning, as she felt her cheeks alight in red. Bee couldn’t bring herself to meet the mystery man’s—Izou she guessed—eyes.

“I thought Namur said you were going to get your lady friend out of here before the morning rush?”

“Must have slept through it.”

Izou folded his arms, unimpressed. “Marco’s about to charge down this hallway you know he is, Pops.” Edward grunted. “Why don’t you get up and changed, and I help Bee out, hm?”

“I don’t need help,” Bee denied as Edward groaned, giving her body one last squeeze before he rolled out of bed, scratching his head.

“Fine, fine. God all my kids are such brats. Give me a second.” Izou didn’t say anything, just stepped further inside and closed the door behind himself as Edward walked to the master bathroom and closed the door.

There was a moment of silence that stretched as Bee sat up and tried to figure out what to do. “Should I…” she trailed off as Izou stared silently at her. “Should I get an Uber?”

“No,” Edward’s voice was garbled from the door as it was thrown open, toothbrush in his mouth. “I can drive you home.”

“Everyone is starting to make breakfast, why don’t you stay?” Izou asked and Bee shifted awkwardly. She heard the sounds of spitting before Edward walked back into the room.

“Or that!” he said cheerfully as Edward went around to his dresser and started pulling on clothes, his hair pulled into a messy bun. She watched his back for a second, the muscles rippling before she turned her head away.

To see Izou smirking at her, and her face—if possible—reddened further.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said awkwardly.

“Nah,” Edward denied immediately. “Get to meet the family! I know Thatch didn’t show you around last night nearly as much as he should have.”

“How could he, when you practically abducted her?” Izou shot back while Edward sat on the end of the bed, bending to put on some socks.

He snorted. “Don’t want to hear it from you, son. Thatch was drowning himself in drinks and making Bee listen to his pity party before you finally decided to spare him.”

Izou sniffed and Bee interrupted before they could descend into an argument. “I don’t have anything to wear, I can just go?”

“It’s fine,” Izou said quickly. “I can grab you something. Pops go entertain the masses.”

Edward grumbled good naturally before surprising Bee by leaning over and dropping a kiss on her cheek. “See you soon dear,” he said with a small grin before he left, Izou easily stepping to the side to let him pass.

“Wait here,” Izou ordered before he moved to follow Edward out the door, closing it behind himself.

Bee sat there, in the suddenly quiet room, still feeling the echo of his kiss. It had to be one of the strangest morning afters of her life. ‘Oh yeah hey, my family is here wanna have breakfast?’ Her hips ached and her hair was probably a rat’s nest.

Still, Edward was one of the most charming men she’d ever met. Self-assured and maybe a bit of an ass at times, but still overwhelmingly kind. She wouldn’t mind seeing him again if he wanted.

Izou returned shortly after, something thrown over his arm before he gestured to the bathroom. “After you.”

Slowly, Bee left the covers behind before limping her way to the bathroom. Behind her, Izou snorted. She glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t break you,” Izou said plainly. “I’ll get you some meds when we sit down for breakfast.”

“Rude, it’s just my hips that hurt,” Bee answered before deciding to start brushing her teeth. Izou leaned against the doorway.

“Still, it’s impressive. I think you’re the shortest he’s ever been with, he must have held back.”

Bee made a face at herself in the mirror, where Izou was watching her reflection. Her make-up was smeared as well. It was lucky she only wore stuff around her eyes, but it still made a raccoon look. She should really just leave. Spitting, she quipped, “TMI much? Why would you even know that?” He hummed.

“I have my ways. Here wear these.” Izou thrust a pair of leggings at her after she had put down the toothbrush and she eyed them skeptically.

“Aren’t these going to be too long?”

“Humor me,” Izou said lazily.

It took her a second of struggling but she managed to get it on, the bottoms well past her feet.

“Great, sit down,” he gestured to the toilet and once she sat, he bent in front of her to roll up the bottoms.

Nodding with satisfaction he glanced up at her and tilted his head. Bee blinked back at him, confused, when he reached out and tugged at a sleeve, revealing more of her shoulder. “He got you good.” Realization shot through her as a hand came up to touch it and pain radiated. She must have a bruise where Edward bit her. Izou stood.

“Now for your hair, hm.” Opening a few drawers he started shuffling around before he found a hairdryer and a curling brush. Bee stared with surprise.

“Why does Edward have that?” she asked before Izou was pushing at her to turn her around.

“Don’t ask, he has so much random stuff around. Let’s get started.”

Somehow at the end of it, Bee’s wild frizzy mop was contained. The fact that she’d curled and set it with hairspray the night before should have made a messy frizz ball with a few curls. But now it was nice and sleek, curled perfectly at the ends. She stared in awe at the mirror, fingering at a perfectly cuffed curl. He’d also touched up her make-up somehow, making it look meaningful and not just slept in leftovers.

“Now your shirt.”

“Do you have another one?”

“No,” Izou answered before a hand shot out and started gathering it. She felt the familiar feeling of a hairband wrapping the shirt in a knot behind her, tightening it and bringing it higher on her hips. Bee pushed down the hem before Izou tsked. “Don’t pull on it.”

“I can just have it loose, what’s wrong with it?”

“Because I want to watch Pops stare at your boobs—stop tugging.”

“UM?” Izou spun her around, ignoring her sputtering.

“Let’s see, okay it shows your hip a little—good.”

“Are you going to address that or—”

“No,” Izou cut her off. “Let’s go.”

Timidly, Bee followed behind him as he led her down the hallway, into the large kitchen where several bodies were moving. She hovered at the edges as several men worked to set the long dining room table, as Izou left her behind and stepped into the mass in the kitchen.

She watched as he went up to Thatch’s side, grabbing onto the chef’s shoulder. Thatch moved towards him, and the ease they moved around each other made her smile. Izou dropped a kiss on Thatch’s cheek and the smile he got in return could have melted snow, it was so bright.

Eyes roaming over the gathered crowd she happened to meet Edward’s gaze and he brightened at seeing her.

“Bee!” he boomed. The sudden spotlight was intimidating as most everyone turned to look, but Edward was already moving towards her. So hyper-aware of his attention she didn’t miss the once over he gave her before standing before her, large and broad. She had to tilt her head up to look at him and he leaned to press another kiss to her forehead. Affectionate, she thought, pleased. “You’re looking cute! Izou worked his magic, eh?”

Before she could reply, Izou piped up. “Not much magic to do, she’s already pretty on her own.”

“Ah!” Her blush was back as Edward laughed before laying a hand on her shoulder and guiding her to a seat.

“It’s true!” Edward said with a large smile before he sat, gesturing to the seat next to him.

It didn’t take long for food to be laid out and the others to sit. Edward sat at the very end of the table, the figurehead, Bee on his right. Marco sat across from her, eyes half-lidded and looking bored but she didn’t miss the occasionally narrowed eyes at her as Edward laughed at something she said or reached out to touch her.

She started leaning away from Edward’s touches, feeling awkward under Marco’s intense stare. Bee wished desperately that Thatch could have sat beside her, but it seemed the man didn’t sit during meals, instead flittering around grabbing up discarded dishes and doing who-knew-what in the kitchen. It was apparently normal, as no one commented.

Edward introduced everyone at the table, but it was so many she quickly lost the names as soon as they were said. She’d never been good in group situations or keeping track of stuff like this.

Still, it was pleasant to receive so much attention from Edward, and the food was great. The black-haired boy next to Marco started pestering him and she could relax slightly without his piercing blue-eyed gaze permanently fixed on her.

Breakfast passed soon enough, and she was itching to get home. Izou had passed her some ibuprofen but she was still sore and tired. The emotional energy of suddenly being in the mists of a large family gathering was also exhausting her.

Tugging at Edward’s shirt he easily dropped the conversation he was having and leaned in closer to her. “I’d like to go home soon,” she said, and he made a disappointed face.  

“So soon?” A meaningful cough came from somewhere down the table and Edward glared in the direction before he relented. “Alright, alright. Come on then.”

“I’ll grab my stuff, I should change—”

“You can keep the clothes,” Edward interrupted waving a hand. “Not a big deal.”

“Wait, that’s my shirt—OW!”

Bee stood there, frozen in confusion as the man she recognized as the one who wanted to trade cars with Edward last night started rubbing his head. Izou smiled silkily at her. “It’s fine, just return it later. Ignore him.”

A large hand pressed at the small of her back and led her away before she could comment.

Soon enough, she was back in Edward’s nice car, giving him directions home. She yawned leaning against the window and he chuckled.

“Tired?”

“You wore me out,” she agreed, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He smiled out at the road, happy and pleased. A hand reached over and squeezed her thigh before it rested there, palm heavy and warm, heat soaking in past her tights.

“I enjoyed it too,” he said cheekily. She snorted but smiled out the window.

They drove in silence, the radio playing between them, his hand on her leg. Her eyes drooped, this was nice.

It didn’t take that long to reach her place. Once he parked on the street out front, she turned slightly to him. “I had a great time—” Warm lips interrupted her, and she sighed before leaning into it, tilting her head so his lips brushed against hers perfectly. With a hand, she stroked his cheek before pulling back.

He followed, chasing her lips, giving her quick pecks, littering her face with them as she giggled and tried to get away, as his hands tried to grope her breasts. “Edward!” she chastened.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, voice low and deep. She pursed her lips trying to contain her smile as she reached down to grab up her purse, jacket, and dress.

“Wanna exchange numbers?”

They did and when she exited the car, Edward did too. She waited for him on the sidewalk, shifting foot-to-foot. “You’re making it hard to leave,” she said.

Edward grinned, not at all ashamed. “Just want to make sure you make it to the door okay, little Bee.”

She folded her arms. “What if I don’t want you to know which house I live in?”

He quirked a brow before pulling her in for a hug. “You already said the number, dear.”

“Hmph,” Bee complained before wrapping her arms around him. His bulk was so wide, she hardly managed it. They stood there for a few seconds before she pulled away. “Okay, I’m leaving. Goodbye Edward.”

“C’ya later, Bee.”