#dummyduck44

Once again, Smoker found himself staring down a pirate, though the pirate in question hadn’t noticed him yet. He didn’t even need to double check with a poster to confirm who this one was. Buggy the Clown was a very distinct looking individual.

Smoker took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to get closer and overhear the conversation he was having. Buggy was crouched down and talking to a small child. A little girl that couldn’t be more than five, if that. You looked distraught and confused.

“W-What do you mean? My mom isn’t here,” you sniffled loudly and scrubbed at your face.

“She’s gotta be, come on just think. She’s about this tall, looks just like you but with some bandages on her head,” Buggy pleaded with you, grasping onto your arms and looking desperate.

You flinched away, and Smoker decided it was his time to intervene. Using his devil fruit, he surrounded the clown with plumes of smoke to trap him. Buggy let out a screech upon finally noticing him and promptly disassembled his body to slip away. Which he was able to do successfully, much to Smoker’s chagrin.

Giving chase should be his number one priority, but his attention was drawn to the teary eyed girl in front of him. There were visible tear tracks going down your face, and your mouth was agape. Made sense, he supposes. This was probably your first time witnessing a devil fruit power. 

Crouching down to be closer to your height, he attempts to comfort you, “You alright kid? Did that pirate hurt you?”

The question snapped you out of your daze. You rubbed at your face and shook your head, “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me, he was just asking a bunch of weird questions.”

“Like what?” He had to admit that he couldn’t even imagine what a pirate could possibly hope to learn from someone as young as you.

“He kept asking about my mom, but the questions didn’t make any sense. I think he was lying about knowing her,” you mumbled.

“Where is your mom, is she nearby?”

You became shifty at the question and nervously fidgeted your hands. It took a few seconds of anxiously looking around for you to come up with an answer, “Um… She isn’t here. She’s… gone?”

That was a strange way to answer the question, you didn’t seem to know how to answer it. Smoker really didn’t like that, and some alarm bells started going off in his head. He sighed when he saw you attempt to wipe off your face again. Digging around in one of his pockets, he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to properly clean you off. Fortunately, you let him do so without a fight and seemed to have calmed down slightly.

Given how long he’s been living here, he was able to guess that you weren’t local. Probably with some people passing through, but who? Might as well ask, “Who are you here with, kid?”

“My friends,” you answered simply.

He quirked a brow at that, “Are these friends your age?” 

You shook your head, “No, they’re all grown ups.”

Your story was getting weird, so he pressed further, “Are any of them your family?”

“No.” Your face pinched, and again you looked unsure of your answer, “Well, Nami told me to call her “big sis”, so I guess she is?”

So you’re traveling with friends that are all much older than you, your mom is “gone?”, and one of these friends is telling you to call her “big sis”. Something is definitely going on here, and he doesn’t like it at all. Could this get any weirder? He asks you how long you’ve known these friends of yours.

“Since yesterday.”

Oh. It could get weirder. This was starting to sound like a human trafficking case to him, and he couldn’t let that go under his watch. Looks like he would have to put his pirate hunting on hold for the time being.

He held out his hand to you, “I’m Captain Smoker, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment before gently taking his gloved hand in both of yours, “My name’s Lucky. I’m not a captain or anything, though.”

“How about I help you find your friends again?” He needed to meet them for himself, just to make sure you aren’t in the middle of being trafficked. 

You anxiously squeezed his hand and looked nervous, “I dunno… I’m not supposed to go with strangers. Nami is already gonna be mad at me for walking away and getting lost.” Your lip trembled and you looked like you were about to start crying again.

“Do you want ice cream? I’ll buy you some if you let me help you,” he internally cringed at this. He shouldn’t be encouraging you to take bribes from strangers, but he needs you to cooperate with him for your safety.

Instantly, your eyes lit up at the prospect of getting a treat, “Really?!”

Looks like he’s got you on his side now. That was easy. He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before returning to his full height, “Yes, really. Come on, kid. We’ll get ice cream and then find your friends.” And possibly arrest them, but that’s neither here nor there.

You still had a hold on his hand, but now with only one of yours as you walked alongside him, visibly excited about ice cream. At least he was able to defuse the situation and avoid having you cry again.

There was an ice cream shop not far from here, so it didn’t take long to get there. You were bouncing up and down in place and chanting about ice cream while waiting for your turn. Some older ladies seated at a table nearby were cooing at the sight. Smoker overheard one of them calling this a ‘daddy-daughter date’. He shot them a sideways glance, but didn’t deem it worth it to correct them.

As soon as you’d gotten your ice cream, you thanked Smoker and happily started eating it, seemingly forgetting all about being separated from your friends. He supposes he’ll have to remind you about it.

“Where was the last place you saw Nami, kid?”

You perked up, then went into thought for a moment while licking your treat. You hummed, “I think we were at a clothes store? I don’t remember which one, I wasn’t paying attention.”

That really didn’t narrow it down at all. There were tons of clothing stores in Loguetown. “Do you remember where the store was?” He asked, desperate to get any other details.

“I dunno, I think it was close to the docks,” you shrugged. 

Alright, that still didn’t help much, but it looks like that’s all he’s going to be getting out of you in regards to that. Asking about Nami would probably get him farther, “What does Nami look like?”

While you rambled out a description of her, he was scanning the crowd. No one in his line of sight matched what you were telling him, but that wasn’t particularly shocking. This is a big town, he was unlikely to track a single person down that quickly. At least her orange hair would stick out to him if they did cross paths.

“Hey mister, how come there’s a big stain on your pants?” You asked from slightly behind him. You’d relinquished holding hands with him in favor of your ice cream, leading to you falling a little behind.

Stain? Oh, wait. That’s right, a kid ran into him with her own cone earlier, he’d already forgotten about it. He waved off your inquiry, “My pants ate someone’s ice cream, don’t worry about it.”

You took a decisive step away from him, protectively holding your cone, “Your pants aren’t going to eat mine, too, are they?” You were staring at his pants suspiciously, as if they were about to come after you if you didn’t keep an eye on them.

A brief, quiet chuckle escaped him, “They might if you aren’t paying attention and run into me.” This made you take another step back. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say if he didn’t want you getting separated from him.

“How about you sit on my shoulders? That way you can look for your friends and my pants won’t be able to reach your ice cream.”

After a moment of weighing your options, you agree and allow him to place you on his shoulders. He’s pretty sure that you’re far too focused on your treat to really help him look for your friends, but now they will be able to see you. Admittedly, this came with the risk of them noticing him too and turning tail to run. While he would prefer to arrest them, at least you would be spared from whatever fate they had in mind for you.

Strolling around the docks would likely be the best course of action. At least one of them could be on the ship, and you ought to be able to point out which one is theirs. Smoker took a less traveled side road to get there. It was the fastest way, plus it would be nice to get a break from how crowded the other streets were. Currently, you two are the only ones here.

“I. Cannot. Believe you.”

Smoker came to an abrupt halt. He knew that voice well, though he could fathom why he would be saying such a thing to him.

“We’ve known each other for years, how have you never told me?” His naturally gruff voice, thick with a southern drawl, plainly revealed how betrayed he felt. It was still unclear as to why.

“What are you going on about, Masterson?” Smoker turned to the side, eyes landing on the local bounty hunter, Daddy the Father. Though Smoker much preferred his actual name to such a ridiculous moniker. Masterson had just exited a candy store. Several shopping bags were on one arm, while the opposing hand was holding his daughter’s. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked back and forth between them, seemingly also confused by the interaction.

“How have you never told me about your daughter?! She looks like she’s about Carol’s age, they could’ve been friends this whole time!” 

Smoker stiffened, this was the worst possible misunderstanding that could have happened today. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t-”

“We’re friends aren’t we? How could you do this to me?” Masterson put a hand on his hip, the shopping bags loudly crinkling against each other, and glowered at Smoker accusingly.

His gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, “We are colleagues, Masterson. I haven’t d-”

“Quit bein’ so formal, you can just call me Daddy,” Masterson, dead set on not letting Smoker get a word in, waved his hand dismissively. 

“Absolutely not.” Smoker keeps talking even when Masterson tries to cut him off again, “This is not my daughter, she’s just a lost child that I’m helping. That’s it.”

Masterson huffed, “You don’t need to lie to me, the jig is up. You’re gonna try tellin’ me that you buy ice cream for and carry around every lost kid you find? Is that your story?”

Carol gasped, “Oh! Can we get some ice cream too, daddy?”

The once rough voice completely transformed and took on a much lighter and gentler tone, “Of course, pumpkin! Just as soon as we’re done talking.” His voice went right back to normal when he faced Smoker again, “I mean, really? You’ve kept this from me for- How old are you, sweetie?” The voice changed again. It was bizarre hearing it switch up so rapidly.

“I’m four,” you answered plainly, apparently not caring at all about all the previous talk of Smoker being accused of being your father. 

“You’ve kept this from me for four years?!”

“I just met her today! She isn’t my kid!” He felt you get jostled a bit from his outburst. It probably wouldn’t be great for him if you dropped an ice cream cone on his head because he startled you. Smoker took a deep breath before gently grabbing you off his shoulders and setting you on the ground. You looked up at him briefly, but your attention was stolen away by Masterson.

The man had crouched down to be more on your level, “Is that your daddy?” You hadn’t even answered yet, but he was already smirking, no doubt thinking he was about to win this argument.

“No,” just like that, you wiped the smug look off his face. You hummed in thought while licking at your treat, “I don’t think I have one anymore.” You sounded disconcertingly nonchalant about this revelation. Now you’ve confirmed that neither of your parents are in the picture.

Masterson’s eyes softened and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips. Then, like a light went off, he looked up at Smoker with his eyebrows raised while gesturing towards you.

“What are you- No. I know what you’re getting at, and no,” he was not about to entertain this insane idea for even a second.

“But the poor thing doesn’t have a daddy, have a heart!”

“I can’t just adopt every kid without a family that I come across,” he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation right now, all because Masterson got such an absurd idea into his head. He has far more important matters to attend to, namely figuring out what is going on with your whole family situation and your “friends”.

“Well maybe not all of them, but why not this one? She’s already grown on you at least a little bit if you’re buying her ice cream,” the man was borderline pleading with him at this point. It was unfathomable as to why he was so hung up on this idea, but Smoker frankly could not be bothered to care enough to get to the bottom of it.

“You’re talking about this like she’s a stray dog I found on the street.” Smoker ran a hand down his face and sighed before sparing you a sideways glance. Mercifully, you didn’t appear all that bothered by the odd exchange going on between them. He spoke in a lower tone in hopes of keeping it that way, “Besides, there’s… more going on here.”

A colder, hardened edge flashed in Masterson’s eyes, he definitely got the hint. He patted Carol on the back and nudged her towards you, “Why don’t you get to know your new friend, daddy has to talk business for a minute.”

The little girl didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly scurried over to you and started introducing herself. 

Smoker and Masterson put some distance between themselves and the children. Still close enough to keep an eye on you two, but far enough to have a chance to talk without being overheard.

Masterson pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out onto his hand, “What’s going on?”

“Trafficking from the looks of it. Her parents are absent, but her answers have been unusual regarding them.” Smoker decided to swap out his cigars for a couple of new ones now that he had his hands free again. “What really bothers me is that she’s here with “friends” that are all adults that she met yesterday.”

Masterson exhaled a puff of smoke, and shook his head, “Sounds about right. Saw a lot of that sort of thing back when I was still a traveling bounty hunter. They tell kids these fantastical stories to get them to come with them willingly so it’s easier to smuggle them. That girl probably thinks she’s going to a new family, or something of the like.” He glanced over to where you and Carol were with pity in his eyes, “You know who you're looking for yet?”

“I’ve got a description for one of them. A redheaded woman with a tattoo on her shoulder named Nami, but I haven’t encountered her yet. I was going to take her to the docks so she could point out their ship to me.”

The bounty hunter nodded, “Good idea, there could be more kids on board. You want help?”

“If you’re not too busy. An extra pair of eyes-”

“Oh! That’s one of my friends!” Your voice cut through the air in an excited squeal.

Both of them went on high alert instantly. Masterson’s hand hovered over his holstered gun and plumes of smoke began curling off of Smoker’s body as they both frantically surveyed their surroundings. No one else was here. Rather than running towards someone, you bounded over to a wall.

A wall with bounty posters plastered all over it. 

Oh, no.

Your empty hand excitedly slapped one poster in particular and you looked over your shoulder at Smoker with a smile on your face, “He’s one of my friends! It’s cool you got a picture of him!”

A bitter, vicious sensation seeped into Smoker’s heart as he glared at the poster. A young boy smiled back at him, not a care in the world to having his picture taken for a bounty poster. Monkey D. Luffy. Wanted dead or alive for a startling sum of 30,000,000 berry. 

Of course pirates were behind this. Everything was starting to come together and make more sense. Not that it changed much. He was still going to be arresting these friends of yours, just now he didn’t need to investigate them for a solid reason to do so. 

“Is he now? That’s good to know,” Smoker ground out while continuing to stare at the mocking grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him for you.”