The Pirate King's Lover


The moonlight poured in between the curtains that shaded the little round window in the corner of the room. It fell across her pale skin, illuminating it, provoking him to pull her in closer to his bare chest. Roger's fingers playfully tangled themselves in the woman's long, strawberry-blonde, curls as he sighed peacefully, his other arm wrapped around her bare shoulders.

"Roger," she whispered, her expression serious and questioning.

"Mmmm?"

Rouge flipped over on her side, looking him in the eyes, her fingers gently gracing one of his cheeks. "You're setting sail again tomorrow morning."

"Mmmm."

"Promise me that I will see you again." The words were spoken silently, almost as a whisper, like she was afraid to say them. This was a tone not often used by the typically confident woman.

"See you again?" Roger asked, flipping over on his side to face her, "now why would I ever want to do that?" he teased, his fingers playing with the ends of his mustache.

"Screw you," Rouge grumbled, her hands playfully pushing him away. Roger reached for her arm and drew her in closer again as he chuckled.

"But who knows. That bastard Garp is so intent on catching me; maybe I'll be drowned with one of his gigantic cannonballs. Or maybe I'll be sat on to death by that damn Buddha, Sengoku. That guy does have a pretty cool afro though…"

He didn't even have to look at her to know that she was rolling her eyes as she let out an exasperated sigh.

"How do I put up with you?" Rouge asked, her head still leaning against the man's chest.

"I think it's because I have a sexy mustache," Roger said confidently, stroking his mustache with pride. Rouge giggled quietly, her arms tightening around Roger's chest. Roger leaned down so that his mouth was beside the girl's ear.

"I promise you'll see me again," he whispered, smiling before kissing her on the forehead, "but I expect that you'll cook me a really nice dinner."


Rain pattered against the roof of the tavern as Rouge swept the dusty floor, enjoying the sound of the rain. Her co-workers went home ahead of her, as it was her turn to close shop. She paused briefly to glance at the newspaper clipping that was tacked on the wall in the far corner of the tavern. "Gold Roger: The Pirate King," the heading read. It had been almost 3 years since she last saw the man in the picture below the article's heading. Sighing, she continued her duties, humming quietly to herself.

A loud knocking on the door startled her, causing her to drop one of the glasses she had been polishing. "Damn it," she grunted, looking down at the shards of glass that surrounded her feet, "We're closed!" she yelled, only to be answered by more knocking. Rolling her eyes, she made her way to the door, stepping carefully over the pieces of glass that lay scattered across the floor that she had just swept. She glanced at the clock. 12:34 PM. "I said that we're closed!"

Rouge stood in silence, frozen in shock as she took in the man before her. Shaggy black hair. Red coat and hat. Goofy mustache. Soaking wet. "Roger…" she whispered, before she was pulled in to a tight hug.

"Left me to soak in the rain for a while, huh?" Roger laughed, his arms tightening around Rouge's waist, "It's been a while, Rouge."

"Yeah…" Rouge whispered, still in shock. She pinched her self slightly, to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"You know," she said, looking up at the man sternly, "you made me break a glass with all of that noisy banging on the door at this time of night."

Roger glanced over at the mess of glass on the ground and laughed loudly. "Oh calm down, I'll clean it up!" He grabbed the broom and began to sweep up the mess, Rouge watching him with silent pleasure.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, grabbing two beers out of the fridge and placing them on the counter of the bar, "where is the crew? I'd love to see Rayleigh and the others again, too."

Roger continued to smile as he said, "We have decided to disband."

The words caused Rouge to choke on the beer she just sipped on. "What?!"

Roger sighed as he dumped the glass in to a trashcan. Rouge stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. The sight of her made him chuckle loudly.

"You look like a little kid right now with that expression," he smiled, making his way over to the counter.

"Shut up," she snapped, the blood rushing to her freckled cheeks.

Roger pulled the girl in to another hug, his hand resting on the top of her head. She looked up at him, the confusion obvious in her eyes. He cupped her chin in his hand and brushed his lips against hers, feeling their familiar warmth once again. "I'm sick, Rouge…" he whispered hesitantly, resting his chin upon her head, "Crocus says I don't have much time left."

The words hung in the air. The only sound that danced its way across the room was that of the rain tapping against the roof of the building.

"I promised that I would come back," Roger said. He smiled, but the usual light in his eyes was dim with the knowledge that his words must have hurt the girl he was holding on to tightly.

"Sick? …it can't be cured?" Rouge looked up, staring intently in to Roger's eyes, her own eyes threatened with tears.

"I'm afraid not," the man said, his voice still brimming with its usual confidence, "it caught me off-guard as well, but I've finally accepted it. I figure that I might as well enjoy myself while I can. I mean, on the bright side it isn't contagious." His reassurance did not seem to quell the woman's anguish. She buried her head in to his chest.

Reaching up, Roger took his red hat off of the top of his head and placed it over Rouge's curly blonde locks. "Don't cry, Rouge," he whispered, his finger gently sweeping up the tears that flowed from the woman's brown eyes, "I'm sorry that I didn't get to return with better news. You know, other than the fact that people have been calling me a 'king.'" Sensing that his jokes were achieving the opposite effect than what he aimed for, he took the woman's hands in his. "I'll set out again soon. I wanted to see you before I find somewhere to spend my next couple years. I don't want to burden you by staying around here."

The woman stirred in his grasp, pulling away a bit. Her expression hardened. She looked in to Roger's eyes and said, "You idiot." Picking up her beer, she turned away from the man and walked in to the kitchen. "You aren't going anywhere. After all, I owe you dinner."


Author's Note:/ I really am bummed that there aren't many Roger/Rouge stories out there, so I decided to try some out myself. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts! I plan on having two drabbles/one-shots per chapter.