Unorthodox Collaboration

Set post Marineford, yet after the two year time skip. I do not own any One Piece characters.

-X+O+X-

Long corridors of flawless granite, bleached to a lighter hue, were filled to the brim with bustling marines. Clinking of hammers and orders being barked out, the sounds of construction, still managed to make their way through the fortified walls. Many of the younger cadets' youth was being taken advantage of, the result often sending them to run reports between the admirals and foremen.

Every inch of the building, undergoing reconstruction and modifications, swarmed with activity. The reestablishment, and relocation, of Marine Headquarters was a sight to behold. Walls were torn down, new ones taking their place or making way for a new design. What was the G-1 base was being overwritten to take the fortified form of the heart of the marines. Marines, from the lowest cabin boy to the strongest vice admiral, worked alongside construction workers, working with resilient determination, reveling in the task of renewal and recovery, despite their devastating defeat at Marineford.

Their lost had cost them, but the survivors came back with a different mindset. The horrors of full out war had scratched its place in the minds of the young, and rehashed the hard facts for the experienced. Watching comrades die before you was hard, but the random eyes of a stranger staring at you with their last breath was unsettling.

Why would someone, you have never even seen before, be able to disturb you in such a profound way? You were ordered to kill without knowing anything about them; if they had families, or children waiting for them at home. But, what if they were murderers, thieves, slave traders, drug dealers, or rapists? Or, could they have been heroes? Blessings to the people around them, a teacher or a mentor, someone with outstanding morals, a person who deserved to live and you had no right to end their life. Once they were dead, you would never know.

Those few that came back from the war were changed, but whether they were lucky or not was hard to say. There was no clear answer. Both sides had come away with losses, but a burning will had been ignited inside both marines and pirates.

One Piece was out there. The legend was confirmed. Thousands of pirates, who had long given up the dream, picked it up again. Those who had always pursued it renewed their efforts with rekindled hope. Even the Underworld was stirring.

The sudden surge of activity only flared up the marines into taking up action.

A steady patter, the sound of heeled shoes against the marble floor, made the workers pause and look up at the alien tapping. Their owner hurried down the hallway, clusters of marines scattering in panic to get away from the irate looking man. Two marines cowered off the side, exchanging words in hushed tones.

"I-Isn't that the newest warlord?..." a pink-haired marine youth murmured in unease.

His taller companion, a long-haired blond with strange shades, was bent into a near-crouch to cower behind the other. Teeth chatter loudly in his mouth, he managed to answer, "Y-y-yes…that's T-Trafalgar Law. The rookie pirate who brought 100 hearts from pirates to join the warlords! He is a creep! Don't go near him!" The blonde shrilled out a distressed noise, as the man in question stopped in the middle of the hallway, sneezing loudly into the crook of his arm. The unexpected actions caused several marines to jump into the air, squeaking loudly in a mixture of horror and surprise, and in some instances falling over in a total faint.

This man, Trafalgar Law, was relatively tall, in normal human standards when you didn't consider the inhuman statures of most of the admirals and other warlords, and sported a spotted furred cap that spoke of his origins from North Blue. He must have traveled from somewhere cold recently, or that is what the long black coat suggested. From what they knew of him, he was the captain of the Heart Pirates, and a doctor. But the long nodachi on his back made it hard to believe the man practiced medicine. However, the title 'Surgeon of Death' didn't fail to compliment both of the possible professions. For some reason the newly initiated warlord continued to stand in the hallway, looking this way and that for an unknown reason.

The pink-haired teen gulped loudly, his Adams apple bobbing in apprehension. "100 pirate hearts? Isn't that like cannibalism, or something?" Law was still a pirate after all.

"Moron! That's for eating people, not killing them," his friend hissed under his breath, still too afraid to raise his voice higher than a whisper.

A booming voice behind their back had both of the unfortunate youths jolting up in terror. "Oiii! Coby! Helmeppo! What are doing standing in the middle of the road for, when you could be training!?"

They shrieked out loud, fighting with their fight-or-flight instincts as they spun around on their heels to face the source of the thunderous roar. "Vice Admiral Garp-san," the young marines squeaked in unison, snapping to attention, still quaking in their skin, as they realized who it was.

"Oi oi, enough of that! I'm retired now! That's Instructor Garp to you!" he corrected, shooting them a good natured smile that crinkled the crows' feet that radiated out from his dark cobalt eyes. "Now, what's going on? Why are you both hiding behind this corner?"

Being the braver of the two, Coby quickly replied, "The new warlord, Trafalgar Law, is here!" He pushed his blue specs further onto his bandana covered forehead, waiting for the older man to respond.

Monkey D. Garp twisted his pinky finger inside of his nostril, making a low hum of consideration as he tried to recall where he had heard that name before. "Hmm…Trafalgar...Trafalgar…OH!" He stopped his nose excavation long enough to slam his fist into an open palm. "He's the kid who saved my grandson! This is perfect! I've been meaning to have a word with him!"

Helmeppo and Coby clearly did not approve. They wildly shook their heads, hissing dire warnings, and frantically waved their arms to try and ward the marine instructor from such a crass idea. But their efforts went unnoticed as the older man simply chuckled and walked past them. Staring off after their instructor, they both sniffled and wiped away the faint traces of their tears, hoping this wouldn't be the last time that they saw the man who had trained them.

Trafalgar Law stood in the middle of marine headquarters, watching apathetically as the marines at work scurried away from his presence. At least they weren't trying to arrest him, which was far more annoying. So far, that was one of the better perks of being a warlord. Unfortunately, his new position also required him to attend a meeting. Other warlords and marine officials would be present to seal the deal. Once this ordeal was over, he hoped to never attend one of these dreaded gatherings again.

But bringing things back to the matter at hand, Law was lost. But it was certainly not his fault. If anything it was the incredibly lousy instructions given to him by Captain T-Bone. The zombie-like captain had caught both his medical and macabre interest. But sadly he wasn't able to perform tests in the middle of a marine building, not without ample scrutiny, so Law was unhappy to say he had been left in the dark regarding whether the man was in a true undead state or not.

At first he had been wary of asking any marine for directions, but the man, T-Bone, had been earnest enough in helping him. But between the skeletal man's dramatic explanations, worrying over the injuries of the workers, and stopping to assist with construction every spare moment, he eventually had given up and wandered through the base alone.

Now he was left standing here, hopefully not looking like a lost puppy. His pride had already suffered enough when he had bothered to ask a marine for directions. It didn't matter if it was directions for a marine base; Law had still resorted to asking someone.

Suddenly an unbearable itch-like sensation formed from behind his eyes, causing Law to let out a loud sneeze that he redirected into the inside of his elbow. 'Ughh, someone must be talking about me. But it can't be helped. I'm late for that stupid meeting.' Blatantly ignoring the marines, who suddenly squeaked or keeled over onto the floor for some strange reason, Law scratched at the back of his head. He glanced down the hallways branching from his current one, searching for one that possibly led to the meeting place.

"Ooiii! Trafal-kid!"

Laws eyebrow twitched violently at the strange distortion of his name, but he managed to reign in his emotions, turning with a stoic expression to see who was calling. A broad-chested man with gray hair, a stitched scar over his left eye, and an all too familiar blinding smile on his face, was fast approaching. His resemblance to his grandchild was startling, both in personality and the wide grin dominating the tanned face.

Gray eyes narrowing in recognition, Law slowly voiced, "…Vice Admiral…Monkey D. Garp-ya?"

"Instructor Garp now", the gray-haired man replied, his smile widening even more as he let out a hearty laugh. "Bwahahahaha!" He patted the younger man on the back, not noticing how his strength had the lanky man staggering, and pulled Law in for a crushing one armed hug.

The marines passing by had stopped dead in their tracks, jaws dropping and staring bugged-eyed at the unusual scene. From their point of view, they could clearly see Law's countenance straining in an aghast frown over the taller man's broad shoulder. Due to the graying haired man's strength, the poor doctor was lifted a few inches off the ground. Former vice admiral Garp seemed to fail to notice, or care.

Leaning over to whisper into the rigid warlord's ear, Garp whispered, "Just between you and me, how is my grandson?"

Slowly inhaling to calm himself, Law softly murmured, "He was alive when I last saw him."

"That's my boy!"

Not deterred at all by the vague response, Garp gave off a loud guffaw, setting the younger man down, and moved his muscular arm to wrap around the surgeons shoulders in a friendly manner. Only then did he notice the others stiffness. Garp took in how Law was seemingly paralyzed to the spot, his expression overly tense and his posture abnormally rigged. Choosing to ignore it, he switched to clasping the dark-haired man by both shoulders, beaming at him before asking, "So, what are you doing standing around? Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting, being a newly appointed warlord and all?"

Grimacing, Law simply nodded. Garp grinned in return and started dragging the younger man behind him, leading the other by keeping a strong grip on Law's sleeve. "Well come on, they will be starting any minute now! If we hurry you won't be too late. Bwahahahaa!"

The marines watched the two go, caught between relief and disbelief. Also, should they be concerned or amazed that The Hero of the Marines was conversing, and leading, the Surgeon of Death around like it was an everyday occurrence...

'I can see why the D family is so greatly feared', Trafalgar Law grimly thought to himself, using intense focus to stay on his feet. Monkey D. Garp was setting a hazardous pace through the marine base, running through the constant rivers of marines like they were ghosts that could be stepped through.

Despite his numerous attempts to free himself, Law's sleeve remained imprisoned in Garp the Fists iron hold.

Garp trudged through the marine base, some people called out greetings to him, only to stop when they saw who the grayed marine was toting behind him. Just as they rounded another corner, Garp gave a sudden exclamation upon seeing a familiar colleague. "Oii! Vice Admiral Vergo! Come here you great bamboo wielding panda."

The tall man in question had his back facing Garp and Law. But when he heard that all too familiar voice he facepalmed himself in exasperation. That was when he realized he still had a bit of lunch stuck to his dark lightning bolt shaped sideburns. Peeling away the bit of the sandwich bread stuck to his face, Vergo relocated it to his mouth to finish it off, turning on his heel to face the incoming former vice admiral. The sight of the broad-chested man running up to him only confirmed Vergo's suspicions of the identity of the person yelling his name. "Whar es et Gwarp-shan", he mumbled around his mouthful, swallowing the rest of his sandwich while wiping the crumbs off with the back of his hand.

Skidding to a halt in front of the man, Garp grinned widely. "What brings you here? I thought you were supposed to be at the G-5 base?"

Sighing dejectedly, Vergo replied, "I'm afraid I was ordered to make my semiannual report in person this time. After that's done I'm heading right back to G-5." He paused, looking down as he noticed something strange in the older man's hand. Pointing with a finger, he directed Garp's gaze to the dark object. "What is that in your hand?"

"Ehh?" Garp looked down, clearly puzzled at the odd statement. "UWAAHH!? He was just behind me!" He yelled in disbelief, eyes threatening to pop out of his skull, and uncontained snot dripping from his nose as he held the abandoned winter jacket to his face to examine it.

"…Is that Law jacket?" Vergo intoned slowly, taking the fabric in his own hands and showing the ex-vice admiral the jolly rodger depicted on the long coat.

"Tsk, yeah. Where did the kid go..? Don't tell me he got lost." Garp scratched at the back of his head, humming to himself in thought. "Oiiii~! Trafal-kid! Where did you go!?" he boomed out, startling several marines around him.

Panting heavily, Law was crouching behind a corner. During his quick retreat, he had forgotten to breathe. In all honesty he was hiding. Yes he, the Surgeon of Death, was reduced to huddling behind a turn in the marine hallways. But Law had never expected to see Vergo here.

When Garp had started to drag him towards the vice admiral, Law had thought that it was all over. But no, his clever brain had come up with the perfect method of escape; even if it had been at the terrible cost of his winter coat.

Upon seeing Vergo, the one who had violently beat him during his adolescence, among other things; Law had been ready to beat the living shit out of Garp just to get away from that man. Like a wildcat chewing its own leg off to escape from a steel trap. Seeing as how that wasn't an option, he had desperately maneuvered his entire body out of the coat with a series of wild twists and squirming. Luckily Garp had been too intent on greeting his colleague to notice Law hightail his ass out of there the moment he was free of his coat.

Sighing heavily, Law looked up. He was surprised to see two young marines, a lanky blond and a pink-haired youth, cowering against the wall. They looked like they were about to scream, so Law raised a tattooed finger to both of his lips and made a shushing noise.

Coby and Helmeppo had possessed just enough courage to follow their old instructor, albeit at a great distance. They simply could not bring themselves to watch ex-vice admiral Garp be in the company of such a dangerous pirate captain. However, they were not expecting for the newly appointed warlord to come blazing down the corridor like a bat straight out of hell, and certainly not around the exact corner they had hid themselves behind.

Law was further appalled when both of the marine youths collapsed backwards in a dead faint, legs twitching in the air like squashed bugs. 'What the hell…I didn't even do anything…yet.' If he looked hard enough, he could have sworn he saw their souls starting to escape.

"What are you doing, Doctor Trafalgar?"

Stiffening in shock, Law slowly lifted his head towards the source of the voice, whose tone was dark and composed. Working his way up from the boots, the white-violet pants fasted with a belt, the dark open jacket revealing a muscular torso, and a pale angular face framed in dark hair, Law looked up into the face of the newcomer. Sharp golden eyes pierced him to the spot from underneath the shade of a broad-brimmed hat, staring at him with crippling intensity.

Somehow Law managed to retain his grave countenance, but inwardly he was having a bit of a meltdown. 'HOLY FUCKING SHIT, ITS HAWKEYE MIHAWK!', his inner self screamed. 'SHIT SHIT SHIT! FUCKING SHIT!'

Mihawk arched an eyebrow when the doctor didn't immediately respond. His sharp eyes picked up the faint traces of sweat, beading on the side of the younger man's forehead. What was the possible reason for the newly appointed warlord to be crouching in the middle of a hallway, rather suspiciously near two unconscious marines?

Law noticed the older man giving him an odd look, and with a sick jolt he recalled the two catatonic marine youths currently prone on the ground. Making a clearing of the throat noise, Law stood up and brushed the nonexistent dirt off his spotted jeans. Pulling on the edge of his black and yellow hoodie, he straightened it out as he composed himself. Steel met gold as Law finally allowed eye contact.

"I was inspecting the possibility of myocardial infarction occurring in these two marines."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

A loud shout of "Oiii Trafal-kid" interrupted the pair. Law dropped his serious expression, allowing a look of scarcely obscured shock to spread across his face.

Crossed his arms against his chest, Mihawk looked at the tattooed warlord with morbid curiosity. "Are you being harassed by Garp?"

"Somewhat…"

"Mhh… I see."

"There you are Trafal-Kid! Oi, Hawkeyes, are you running late too? Bwahahahahaa! You two are really hopeless!"

'Che…He's one to be talking…'

'These damn Monkey's.'

"I'd thought I had lost you there for a moment Trafal-kun. You should really keep up if you get lost so easy," Garp chuckled warmly, and handed Law his dark coat. "Here, you managed to leave your coat behind! You not only can get yourself lost, but your clothes! Bwaahahahahahaaa!" His own joke had the ex-vice admiral keeling over in laughter, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, as he beat a closed fist on his knee.

Before either of the dark-haired warlords could come up with a respone, Vergo stepped forward, from his position of following behind Garp. "Congratulations on your new position, Law", the vice admiral said, no real feeling behind his words, with the same indifferent expression as he stood with his arms folded behind his back.

Barely suppressing his urge to snarl out loud, Law replied monotonously, "Thank you…Vergo."

Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk watched the exchange with mild interest. He could sense the tense waves rolling off the younger warlord. Invisible sparks seemed to crackle between vice admiral Vergo and Law. His sharp eyes took in how Law's goateed jaw clenched, his gray eyes slightly narrowing, twitching in the tattooed fingers, and the dark eyebrows angling downward in a subtle slope. 'Clearly these two have met before, and not in the friendliest circumstances,' he concluded. Because of the master swordsman's almost inhuman level of intuition and perception, what Vergo did next did not surprise Mihawk.

An almost inaudible growl emitted from Vergo. It was a deep rumbling in the chest that was the precursor to the commanding shout from the vice admiral. "That's Vergo… SAN!"

Only his observation Haki saved Law from the sudden thrust of Vergo's bamboo weapon to his face. He leaned just enough to the side that the weapon overshot its goal, burying into the granite wall past his shoulder, and causing a network of long cracks and fissures to form around its Haki infused blacken chute. Just as Law was getting ready to pull his nodachi from his back, a small withered hand gripped Vergo's ear, viciously tugging at the cartilage.

"Vergo-san! We are trying to build here! Not cause more work for our hard working marines!" a small elderly lady yelled scornfully. She twisted her grip on the taller man's ear, eliciting a pained yowl from her fellow vice admiral. Her aged whitened hair was pulled back in a bun, small strands framing each side of her face.

When Garp started guffawing at them, she snapped her head towards him, startling the marine instructor with her sharp glare. "And you! Garp, you need to file your reports on how the training is progressing! Don't think for a second I'll let you two slack off!" With that said, she soon had both of the tall men stooping over to better accommodate the shorter elderly woman, who, with a firm hand, was gripping onto each of their ears with startling force for her age.

"Granny Tsuru~…"Garp whined pathetically, struggling to keep on his feet as the white-haired woman pulled the two men after her.

Vergo san looked like a picture of dismay, even with his dark shades obscuring his eyes. "Tsuru-san, I was just on my way to make my report but-"

Tsuru quickly interrupted. "No but's mister! If you two don't get your work done by the end of today, I'll hang you both out to dry tonight!"

Both of warlords were finally left on their own to stare after the two men being manhandled by an older woman. Each of them finally allowed a heavy sigh of relief as the terrible trio made their way down the hallway.

Smirking at the oddity of sharing a sigh with his older counterpart, Law's tired eyes once again met with the other mans. He couldn't help but grimace at the first impression the hawk-eyed man probably had of him now. This was not how he wanted the greatest swordsman to first perceive him.

"We should get going", intoned Mihawk, gesturing with a small tilt of his head for Law to follow.

Eye widening in surprise, Law quickly hurried after him, pulling his returned coat on as they made their way towards the warlords summoning. Mihawk was just a few inches taller than him, but the older warlord was moving quickly. He was grateful the other hadn't made a comment on him 'getting lost'.

Damn Garp. Encounters with the D. family were proving to be extemely odd.

-X+O+X-

Sub Authors Note:

Dude, review please :)