Special thanks to all authors of Kid/Law and One Piece Mafia AUs.

This is my first attempt at a story that doesn't get right into the good stuff (that'll be about chapter 3). I hope you enjoy!

Ultra special extra thanks to Grey / therealslimshady on AO3 for their fabulous artwork from the first chapter! Please check it out, post/92869152497/if-everyone-in-the-room-hadnt-been-so-distracted

Although it might surprise anyone who met him now, Trafalgar Law had led a charmed life.

Being ushered through nation's top private schools since he was out of diapers had given him endless career options. Becoming a recognized prodigy in the field of cardiac surgery at the tender age of 24 allowed him to name his salary at any hospital in the world. And being the only child of Trafalgar Sr.-one of the most well known (and richest) healthcare tycoons in the U.S.-tended to open the few doors that remained shut in the face of Law's irreproachable qualifications.

But even with all of these advantages, his sterling pedigree had always served him far more pain than pleasure. His success had tied him to doing only the most difficult operations on the most exclusive clientele. He had never held a job that he genuinely enjoyed, and cultivating the social contacts necessary for his planned career trajectory had him contemplating plans for unsolvable murders on a weekly basis. He couldn't stand his parents, despised his peers, and was very close to telling his next wealthy patient right where they could shove their generous donation.

Some might tell him to count himself lucky, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. Afterall, people flew from all over the planet for the privilege of having their hearts repaired by the famous Dr. Trafalgar. He was the star of his hospital's surgical team, the scion of his father's legacy, and damn good looking to boot.

He would tell them first of all, to go fuck themselves, and second of all, that the luckiest thing that ever happened to him was being in the wrong place at the wrong time one night at the end of last summer.

His father would have called his actions "career suicide". The police would call it a felony to aid and abet injured parties of a gang conflict without notifying the proper authorities, as all medical professionals are required to do by law. Fortunately for Law, neither his father nor the police were ever going to learn of the events that transpired that night.

The details aren't terribly important at the moment, it's only notable because that spectacular disaster of a night was the first time Law had fun while working. He even managed to get a new job offer out of it.

A week later he had resigned from his hospital of residence under the guise of leaving to start his own charity program providing healthcare to low-income patients, and was soon set up in a shabby illegitimate health clinic on the so-called wrong side of the tracks, ready to render his services to the members of Whitebeard's family, the most notorious criminal organization this side of the Atlantic.

Most of the work is merely the routine of an average family practitioner: physicals, vaccines, sprains, diagnosing the flu. But there's also the occasional drug overdose, broken face, smashed kneecap, stabbing, and the rare gunshot wound—stuff Law hasn't seen since he was interning in the county hospital's ER. It's an interesting environment, to say the least.

He can go to work without taking out his piercings, or keeping his ink covered with long sleeves and latex gloves all the time, because half of his patients look like they murdered their way out of prison and have the facial tattoos to prove it. His aesthetic is quite tame compared to the clients that are in and out of his clinic on Friday nights. They might be intimidating, except the other half of his patients are those same stone cold gangsters' kids and girlfriends and grandmas coming in on weekday afternoons. There's nothing more humanizing than seeing a 6'7" guy with a Glasgow smile meekly escorting his 82 year old granny to her annual check up, or grimacing more painfully than his eight year old son when Law is resetting a dislocated finger.

Most of Law's nighttime clients are quite rough around the edges, and he's used to it at this point in the game. Of course, not all his patients are particularly cooperative.

Some would like nothing more than to score the good drugs, but Law is very strict about his prescriptions not being used for recreational use, and can spot all their glib bullshit before they open their mouths. In his opinion, they can put their own ass on the line to buy the junk if that's what they're after, he has to protect his supplier.

Others think they have big enough balls to intimidate him in his own examination room. Those are the most troublesome, though Law has had years in prep school to perfect his "it-seems-this-piece-of-trash-grew-a-mouth-and-started-speaking-to-me" look of pure disdain. He can make grown men wither under that look, and it's only the most obnoxious, arrogant, and self-absorbed of his clients that fail to fall in line after one appointment.

Speaking of obnoxious, arrogant, and self-absorbed, one such man's business brings him into Law's clinic in the earliest hours of the night.

Stereotypes about gangsters are vastly exaggerated as a rule, but Eustass Kid seems determined to make up the deficit by being everything that people hate. He's offensive, aggressive, takes up way too much space, and gets a kick out of making ordinary citizens flinch whenever he looms in their general direction.

He's also sitting shirtless on Law's exam table at three in the morning, complaining long and loud about how useless Law's doctoring is, even as Law is in the middle of stitching up the long gash in his arm from a switchblade encounter earlier in the evening. Eustass directs his complaints to his silent associate, who he addresses only as 'Killer,' that followed him in and took up the chair against the wall.

"It's not even that fucking bad! You didn't have to make me come all the way down here, Jesus Christ. This is a waste of my time, Killer. I could be asleep in my own bed right now if you weren't worrying over nothing."

Eustass doesn't appear to deem Law worthy of conversation, which is just fine. Law wasn't raised up as a gangster, and the petty power games they try to play don't mean much to him. As long as the asshole sits still long enough to get treated, he couldn't care less, and it's easy enough to ignore the man's yammering to concentrate on the stitches.

He's on stitch #24, close to finished, when Eustass leans away with no warning.

"Your little nurse here is much cuter than you, Doc. I'd take a house call from him anyday."

Eustass doesn't stop with the flip comment. He winks at Shachi and then reaches over to where the nurse is standing to tweak his backside. Shachi jumps a foot in the air, and Law digs his fingers into the muscle of Eustass' forearm to pull him back into position. Eustass lets himself be pulled, still leering as the nurse abandons restocking the supply drawer and hustles out of the room with a backwards glare.

"I'll thank you to keep your paws off my assistant, Mr. Eustass." Law's tone was glacial. One thing he wouldn't tolerate was his staff being harassed.

Eustass laughs roughly and waves off the warning, "Lighten up, sweetheart. If you did your job faster I could be out of here already." Law wants to jab him with a scalpel and finish the job whatever fool had mucked up earlier.

Something murderous must have shown in his face because Killer, quiet throughout the whole conflict, finally speaks up, "Kid, if you make the doc mad he's gonna give you some fucked up stitches."

Eustass snorts and rolls his eyes, but doesn't make anymore smart remarks as Law tugs his arm back into proper position and takes a deep breath before resuming his work.

It only takes a few more precise flicks of the needle until his arm is sewn shut and the thread tied off. Law wipes over it again with a soaked alcohol pad and nods to himself.

"Alright, come back in a week and I can remove these stitches when it's healed."

Eustass interrupts him before he can get into anymore details, "What, seriously! I have to fucking come back? It can't possibly be that hard, I'll just take them out myself!"

Suddenly Law is facing off with a glowering menace of a man. He takes care not to let any of his irritation show, deliberately sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"It's important that you let a professional remove them, otherwise you run the risk of infection or scarring."

Eustass makes a derisive sound, "I don't give a shit about a scar, and you," he jabs the air with a finger in Law's direction, "can fuck off if you expect me to drive all the way over again just have a 'professional' with a stick up his ass cut out some stitches when I could do it in two minutes."

And Law can't tell if it's the late hour, the constant sneering rudeness, or Eustass' ridiculous red hair driving him madder than a bull but something about the man finally cracks his composure. He slams his palm down on the exam table with a smack that makes Eustass pause, and in an instant he's standing with a scalpel in hand and he's not entirely sure when he grabbed it but it adds a lot of emphasis to every gesture he makes while leaning over Eustass, who is sitting very still and keeping his eyes on the blade.

In contrast to his posture, Law keeps his voice smoother than ice.

"Mr. Eustass. I offer only the best of care to my patients because I take a personal interest in their well-being. If my patients are unwilling to meet my excellent standard of care, I'm sure you can imagine how that would affect their health, and subsequently my reputation as a physician. As such, I do not allow my patients to become remiss in their responsibility for their own health. So, if you're telling me that you can't be bothered to take proper care of your own limb, I might as well perform an amputation for you right here and now. Do you understand your options, sir?"

Eustass' stare snaps from the knife to meet his own, and Law returns the look with equal intensity, thanks to the fury still running cold in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, Law can see that Killer is frozen half-way to standing from his seat, likely waiting for a signal from Eustass before he incapacitates Law.

Law himself is ninety-nine percent sure that he's about to get cut up into a lot of little pieces and scattered around the city dumpsters, and he's starting to wonder when the hell he lost his damn mind.

If everyone in the room hadn't been so distracted at that moment, someone might've heard the small sound of cupid's arrow hitting Kid's heart, dead-center.

Kid is stunned silent by Law's speech for exactly half a second before he huffs and shakes his head, "You're a goddamn psycho, Doc. A real fucking piece of work. Where the fuck did they find you? I can't believe the boss is paying for this. Killer, get my shit, we're leaving."

Law takes a step back and drops the scalpel into the pocket of his lab coat, slightly confused that his threats are going ignored, and Eustass pushes off the exam table to leave without bothering to even put his shirt back on.

"A week, Mr. Eustass," Law repeats.

"I heard you the first time!" Kid growls as he shoves out the door.

Killer scoops up Kid's torn and blood-stained shirt and suit jacket before following him out, but stops before he gets outside of the room and turns back to Law with a solemn expression.

"Sorry about this, he gets embarrassed whenever he has to see a doctor."

Law blinks. Embarrassed? Was this all supposed to be explained by Eustass Kid being embarrassed?

"Hey Killer! Let's fucking GO." Kid yells from the waiting room before Law has a chance to reply.

And as suddenly as they arrived, they're gone, leaving Law standing alone to try and wrap his brain around the night's events. Shachi pokes his head out from where he had sequestered himself in the office as soon as he hears the clinic's door shut behind them, "That guy was such an asshole! Can you believe him!"

"Yeah," Law replied, "I wouldn't mind if he didn't come back after all."

Shachi comes back into to exam room and waves one hand angrily in the direction that Eustass and Killer had just exited. "You saw how he pinched my ass right? That fucking pig!"

"You won't have to deal with him again, I'll make sure of that. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll suffer a fatal shooting before his next appointment." Law sighs, "It's late. You can go home, I'll close up."

"Ugh, shit it is. Thanks, doctor. See you for lunch tomorrow?"

"Mmhm." Law waved absently as Shachi rounded up his coat and keys and said goodbye for the night. He got busy cleaning up the examination room, and straightened up his desk in the office before finally locking the building up and walking out to his car. The whole time he was turning over what had just happened, still baffled as to why he wasn't being disassembled into component parts out in the alley behind the clinic about now.

He knew, of course, where he had heard Eustass' name before. Law had made sure to pick up every name involved in the upper management of the family, and Eustass was one of Whitebeard's capos. After tonight he had a face and a bad personality to match with the name. His mostly-silent companion, Killer, could only be one of his men. Stories of what kind of work Eustass' crew handled were a little more elusive to come by, whenever Law asked questions he came away with the impression that it was best for him not to know much about the family's affairs.

Law liked to think he was usually quite level headed under pressure. Shachi was his friend as well as his employee, and Law didn't tolerate any sort of harassment at the clinic, but he knew better than to escalate conflicts with men that probably carried three types of concealed weapons to work. Dealing with a couple mid-level thugs was nothing in comparison to the high society schmoozing he had to navigate before.

He berated himself the entire drive across the city to his apartment. There were always smarter ways to handle things, but something about Eustass Kid had really gotten under his skin, and that was unacceptable. By the time he had walked through his door he was confident that he'd never let himself be dragged down to the level of some punk who could be nothing more than violent and uncouth.

-x-

Five days go by without any major incidents and Law has nearly forgotten about Eustass until Shachi barges into the clinic office early one evening and quickly shuts the door behind him. Law looks up from behind the desk, prepared to reprimand him for not knocking, but the nurse starts into it without even a "Excuse me, doctor."

"That asshole is back. I'm not talking to him so you need go out there and deal with him."

Law doesn't need to ask which asshole Shachi is referring to, there's only one person that they've agreed has earned that singular title. He leaves his open casebook on the desk with a sigh, locates the appropriate file for one 'Eustass, Kid,' and passes through the short hallway to the waiting room.

He finds Eustass sprawled over one of the chairs, taking up enough space for three normal people and looking bored in ragged jeans and a grungy leather jacket, with Killer standing close by. They both glance up when he enters the room and Law lifts his chin up a bit and fixes Eustass with a raised eyebrow, determined to keep the upper hand this time around. Kid smirks at him.

"Mr. Eustass, what can I help you with?"

Kid stretches one arm across the chair next to him, his smirk widening until Law can see the white gleam of a canine. The waiting room isn't tiny, but it feels like the man fills most of it just lounging around. "What, no hello? I thought you'd be happy to see me, Doc, since I'm here to get my stitches out by a professional."

Law makes a show of checking the file in his hand and pointedly ignores the sarcasm, "I believe I told you to wait a week, you're two days early. Please come back on Saturday, or Sunday afternoon if that's more convenient for you."

"It would be 'convenient' if you'd just take them out now, since I'm here and all. That way I don't have to come bug you again, and Killer doesn't have to drive me by here over the weekend, yeah?" he turns towards Killer for confirmation, but the blond doesn't deign to respond. Law isn't sure if he imagines the hint of exasperation on his face or not. Eustass doesn't seem to care, and only grins at Law, "So can we get on with it, Doc?"

Law frowns back at him, and snaps the folder shut in one hand, "I'll take a look, but if I think it's too soon to take them out you will have to come back."

"Alright, alright!" Kid pushes out of his seat and rolls his shoulders before strolling into the exam room, "It wouldn't kill ya to lighten up a bit, you know." Killer makes no move to leave his position by the door, so Law sets his jaw and follows Eustass.

The check up goes more smoothly than he had hoped. Eustass' arm actually had healed and he stays mostly quiet as the stitches were removed. He's still grinning like a loon the whole time however, and Law suspects he's being treated as a bit of a joke, so he doesn't feel unjustified if he happens to be rougher than necessary when yanking out stitches. None of it seems to wipe the smirk off Kid's face, anyway.

"Despite your inability to follow simple instructions, you're entirely healed." Law declares as he makes a note on Eustass' file. Eustass inspects his bicep carefully and then gives it a flex when he notices he has Law's attention again. Law keeps his face the perfect picture of contempt.

"Good as new, Doc. Told you it was nothing." He hops off the exam table and tugs down the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Yes, well that is because you received proper treatment."

"Right," Eustass smiles wolfishly and hooks his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

Law waits a moment, until it's clear the man has no intention of leaving.

"If you have any further problems with the injury, come back in. Otherwise you can go."

"Right," Eustass repeats, then finally makes a move to grab his jacket and head out the door after shooting one last grin in Law's direction.

Law grimaces as soon as he disappears down the hall. The man managed to be aggravating during the simplest encounters. Hopefully it would be a good long while before the next time Eustass Kid darkened his door.

-x-

Eustass shows up the next week. And again a few days after that. And then on three more days the following week. Always with Killer in tow, who seemed to have endless patience for his boss's whims, but never with a problem that actually needed medical attention.

The pair takes to showing up just before sunset, in the lull that divided what Law had come to think of as his daytime and nighttime patients. Law assumed it was before they had to start working, but he didn't bother to ask. Killer would be looking sleek and lethal in a dark suit and tie, while Eustass probably didn't know how to tie a tie as he never had one on and just left the top few buttons of his shirt undone, although his suits were obviously well-cut and his shoes gleamed. Law was of the uncharitable opinion that if even Eustass could look good in them, they had to be designer. Probably Italian.

Shachi has stopped hiding in the office every time they appear and settled into a routine of sneering at Eustass, who returns the glares with malicious good cheer, but otherwise makes no effort to antagonize the nurse. Instead, Law has the honor of bearing the rest of Eustass' attentions. Eustass seems to hold the infuriating belief that any attention is good attention, and takes every opportunity to test Law's tolerance. No matter how many times Law berates him not to smoke indoors, or to stay out of his office, or to just go the hell away before Law gives him a good reason to see a doctor, Eustass soaks it all up and comes back for more.

By the second week, Law is more or less resigned to Eustass' increasingly frequent visits.

"Hey Doc, you busy tomorrow? I'll take you out, show you a good time."

Law replies without looking away from his paperwork, "Don't smoke in here."

"Fine, fine." He can hear the soft rustle of Eustass tucking the pack of cigarettes back into a jacket pocket across the room. "So when's your next free night?"

"I work every night."

"Ha, but seriously, we gotta get that stick outta your ass, Doc. What's your pleasure? Gambling? Drugs? Girls? C'mon, my treat."

Law flicks a completed page over and digs into his desk drawer for a blank form. "Not interested."

"Boys then?"

At that Law makes a mistake, and glares before he can stop himself. Kid is grinning from where he's leaning against the doorframe and raises his brows salaciously.

"Perhaps I wasn't being clear. I'm not interested in spending any time with you outside of work, Mr. Eustass."

Kid groans so dramatically that Law inwardly rolls his eyes, "Ouch! Have a heart, Doc, or I might start to think you don't like me."

"I'd hate to give you that idea," Law mutters at his desk.

Finally Killer reminds Kid that they have somewhere else to be, and they take off into the night, with only a "Seeya, Doc." until the next visit.

Eustass doesn't stop asking him to go out and do things, though Law always shoots him down. He really couldn't imagine why Eustass thought Law might actually want to spend time with him after he has made it quite clear he was not going to agree. Eustass even starts bringing things with him, sometimes just little things like a coffee from the shop down the block, or a pack of mints from a convenience store, or even a box of takeout from wherever he and Killer had presumably stopped to eat before dropping in.

Other times the offerings are more extravagant, like a nice pair of brand name sunglasses, or an entire case of imported vodka. Eustass would waltz into Law's office like he owned the place, plunk down whatever item he dredged up from god knows where, smug as a cat delivering a dead rat to its owner's door, and say something inane like, "Here Doc, I don't need this so you can have it." As if Law had any use for it either. He tried to pawn the stuff off onto his other patients, or just toss it on the principle of the matter, though he did drink the coffee because it was a shame to waste a good cup, even if it was delivered by the biggest pain in Law's neck.

If Law happened to be busy with a patient when Eustass dropped by, he might go back to his office and just find something new on his desk. One day it's the keys to a Lamborghini, and that is simply too ridiculous to shrug off.

When he finds them, Law snatched them up and stalks out to the waiting room. Killer is there alone, sitting in one of the thinly cushioned chairs, thumbing through a six month old Time magazine with an ankle crossed over his knee. He and Law ignore each other for the moment as Law pushes through the clinic's front door and glares at the very real, very yellow Lamborghini parked innocently in the glow of the street lights. It's missing its plates, though is otherwise intact, and Law doesn't know much about cars but it looks very expensive. Eustass is nowhere to be seen.

He turns around into the waiting room again and sharply addresses Killer, "Where's that redheaded idiot of yours?"

"Out back," Killer replies without looking up from his page.

Law mutters a few more choice insults under his breath and stomps down the hallway, fists clenched so tight that the keys are digging into his palm. He shoves the back door open and there, standing alone in the dim alley taking a drag off his cigarette, is the redheaded idiot himself. Eustass looks over his shoulder lazily when he hears the door, and his face breaks into a wide Chesire cat grin as he sees Law, "Hey Doc."

Law chucks the keys at his stupid face before he can decide on a more appropriate course of action. Eustass laughs and fumbles to catch them when they hit his chest.

"What the fuck is this, Eustass!" Law knows he's acting well beyond the range of plausible disaffection but he doesn't give a shit. He's unable to pretend Eustass' antics don't have the ability to affect him at the moment.

Kid gives him a little shrug, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What's it look like? I thought you could use a new ride."

Law has to take a deep breath to get his tone back under control. "I don't want gifts from patients."

"Liar," Eustass accuses, "I saw you take a whole box of cookies from Freddy's sister last week. What's the deal, you like her more than me?"

"For one, yes I do. For another, I don't accept stolen gifts from patients."

"You mean this?" Eustass holds up the keys and gives them a little shake so they jingle, "This ain't stolen, I got it special for you."

"Well forgive me if I don't believe you," Law sneers. "Stop bringing me things I don't need, Eustass. I'm not impressed. Just get out of here already."

Eustass responds with another gravelly laugh, "It was a joke Doc, a joke! Damn, you're so cold."

"Kid."

Law starts at Killer's low voice right behind him, and looks around to find the man standing stoic just inside the hall, slightly abashed that he was so distracted by Eustass he didn't even notice Killer had snuck up on him.

"Huh, what?" Eustass says, and checks his watch. "Shit. It's been fun Doc, but I gotta get to work. See ya around." He flicks the butt of his smoke to the ground and slides past Law through the doorway without a second glance.

"Don't come back!" Law orders at his retreating back, then feels like an idiot for it. Of course he'll be back.

Thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts.