insatiable [in-sey-shuh-buhl]

1. not satiable; incapable of being satisfied or appeased

It was a cool and crisp morning. Rays of light fell down upon the small, peaceful island. The Sunday church bell rang, and several children ran across the church yard, only to be scolded by their parents. They were all dressed in clean and ironed clothing. The men stood tall and proud in their suits and the women dressed in a sundry of dresses that were fit for the event. The young ones too, were dressed in their best.

Several adults stopped to share news and gossip, whereas other seeked further guidance and preaching from the local pastor. Others were heading home, after all, it was a rather lovely day and they were eager to make the most of it. Couples walked side by side, holding hands, while watching as their off-springs laughed joyously and admired the beautiful scenery.

It was a peaceful little island. There was a variation of people living there. No one cared much for where others hailed from or who their ancestors were. In this little island, everyone had a clean slate, no matter what happened in their past. Newcomers were welcomed with open arms and smiling faces. If one could say, it was almost like closed community, everybody knew each other. Pirates often saw it as a good place to attack or to plunder but the kindness that the citizens displayed was almost baffling, that it was almost hard to do so! They treated criminals like they would treat their own neighbors. No one judged. No one hated. It was as simple as that.

Standing in the shade of a tree, The Surgeon of Death observed as the happy townsfolk slowly left the church yard. Their constant smiles and laughters brought a smirk to his face. How naive of them, he thought, oblivious to the true natures of the visitors that they received. The gay townsfolk had turned a blind eye to the sheer fact that pirates were coming and leaving their island. A pirate crew could just as easily come in, raise hell, and leave. How would the locals then act to any future 'tourists' as someone in town had put it? Would they be resentful? Could they chase them away? Or would they still happily welcome them with bright smiles and glittering eyes?

Honestly, Trafalgar Law despised this town. He absolutely hated it. Their cheerful personality annoyed him. They were all imbeciles wrapped up in their own fantasy of a perfect alas, they were a cooperative bunch. It made it easier for his crew restock. And the faster they did that, the sooner they could leave.

Lost in his silent muse, the pirate had almost failed to notice a figure approach him.

"Excuse me, sir."

His gray eyes averted from the small church to the figure standing before him. The soft, feminine voice belonged to a woman. She was a slim, petite little thing, with long, wavy strawberry blonde hair that framed her soft, heart shaped face. Her skin was pale, a clear contrast to his own.

She was dressed in a simple, brown vintage baby doll dress with a maroon and white floral patter, nude stockings and simple, black flats. Though her eyes seemed a bit of an oddity. They were almond shaped and a startling grey color. Most eyes, he had noted, were some shade of green, or brown- a few blue eyes here and there, but this was the first time he'd seen someone with grey eyes.

Trafalgar could only smile his usual smile, and shifted so that he was no longer leaning on the majestic maple tree. He moved his hand onto the hilt of his nodachi, but had no intentions of drawing it.

"I've never seen you before, and couldn't help but to wonder if you were visiting or if you had just moved in," she wondered politely, smiling back at him.

"I'm only here to restock," Law explained, keeping a pleasant tone to his voice. He didn't want to appear rude.

"Oh," the woman said and pondered for a few seconds, before egging on, "you... are a pirate, I presume?"

Dropping his hand from the hilt of his sword, he dipped his head.

"Trafalgar Law," he introduce, "and who might you be?"

The woman smiled and smoothed the front of her dress before curtseying back. She didn't seem too phased by the fact that she was conversing with a corsair. Law wondered if she did that often. A sweet thing like her conversing with the "scum of the sea," as he had heard a marine once say.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Law," she replied, "my name is Lavender."

Her gaze dropped to the ground, which was littered with bright colored leaves from the maple tree that they were standing under. Several children behind them squealed and laughed, running after a small black dog.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Laven-"

"Lavender!" a shrill like voice called out.

A tall, slim blonde woman in a red dress and a ridiculously large sun hat stepped out of the church yard, calling out for the young woman. Lavender looked over her shoulder and waved at the older woman, possibly a relative. The woman smiled at Law, then beckoned Lavender to her side. The strawberry blonde nodded, turned to Law and smiled.

"Well," she began, "I must get going now. I hope you'll enjoy your stay, Mister Law."

Turning around, she ran over to the woman who placed her hand on Lavender's back and led her away. Both laughed and chattered happily. Watching the young woman, barely the age of 18, walk away, Law couldn't help but to ponder about her eyes. Surely there must've been someone else on this island with grey eyes? Deciding that the woman's slightly out of place appearance should not be taken seriously, Law turned around and headed back down the path he had come from.

Lavender walked down the cobblestone street, arms linked with her gleeful aunt. They chatted lightly, and discussed the religious talk that they had been given that day. The two women admired the lovely weather, for normally it wasn't this warm, but alas, nobody complained about it. In fact, it was the exact opposite. The two continued their walk to their small, yet humble abode, the ever present clicking of high heels never faltering.

"I must say," Lavender's aunt began, "it is truly is a lovely weather. Do tell dear, do you have work today?"

"I do, Aunt Annabelle," Lavender replied politely, "Missus Tubbs says that it is an excellent weather to eat outside at the patio."

"It's a shame that you have to work on a Sunday though," Aunt Annabelle pouted, "you could have gone for a picnic with Mister Oak and me!"

A small smile was brought upon Lavender's lips. It was as clear as a cloudless and sunny day that Aunt Annabelle and Mister Oak liked each other. The two sweethearts spend so much time together that half the town was wondering if the two were too dense to see the affection that they had for each other. Bets have been made, too, regarding who would confess first. Most of the island had money riding on this bet, even the virtuous pastor couldn't stay away.

As for Lavender's work schedule, there was nothing shameful about it! In fact, the young woman had asked to work that day. Mister Oak and her aunt had spent every Sunday of the last four months together, going on picnics and taking walks. In the beginning, Lavender had been invited to come along, but after a while- she had began to feel as if she were intruding on a very intimate moment. After that day, Lavender made sure to have something going on that day.

"I'll head over to the bakery after I get changed," Lavender chimed and detached her arm from her aunt's, before running over to the small, green, wooden gate that led to their small front yard.

Pushing the waist height gate aside, Lavender ran to the front door, the skirt of her dress fluttering a little. Since nobody really locked their doors in her neighborhood, the young woman only had to twist the door knob and toss the door open before darting up the stairs to her bedroom. Aunt Annabelle followed after the girl, and pulled the front door close as she walked in.

There was a small huff from the older woman as she heard a loud 'thud' from upstairs, and a small smile graced her red lips.

Not soon after, Lavender came running down the stairs with a simple yellow sun dress, light brown leather sandals that wrapped around her ankles and a small, matching satchel. Trotting over to her aunt, she pecked the woman on the cheek and then headed for the door. But before the door could close, Aunt Annabelle heard her cry:

"Have fun with Mister Oak-"

Then there was a faint cry:

"Love you!"

The blonde woman in the vestibule chuckled softly before retreating further into the house to get ready for her date with the man she would be meeting later on during the day. Children these days, she mused good naturedly, always in a hurry.

With an unsustainable laughter, Lavender ran down the cobblestone sidewalk, greeting familiar as well as new faces with delight. Her dress fluttered slightly and the wind brushed through her hair as she continued her trek to town. She didn't live too far from town, and the walk was always pleasant. Soon, stores became to view.

There were many stores; book stores, grocery stores, toy stores, cafes, clothing stores, a pharmacy, a bank... And on and on! They were all rather small, but still pleasing to the eye. Most were family owned businesses and the workers were all friendly.

Arriving at a familiar navy blue bakery, the young woman found it hard to suppress a wide smile. Missus Tubbs' Bakery. The name wasn't anything special, but the pastries were. Each one made with love and care. Lavender's eyes closed as the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread, fruits, and frosting reached her nose. Toning down her smile, she entered the store.

There were several tall and round metal patio tables with a glass surface, with two similar looking chairs to each table. There were two flower pots hanging from the small roof like structure that was above the door and large glass windows. Two large flower pots sat neatly on each side of the door.

Nudging the door open, Lavender peeked in. She could hear clanking and clattering from the kitchen.

"Missus-" loud clattering from the back cut Lavender off, who in response gasped loudly and ran behind the counter and into the kitchen.

Standing right opposite of her, was Missus Tubbs, a small, plump, elderly lady with gray hair in a bun and glasses. She wore a simple red dress that reached her ankles with a white pinafore apron. Between the two of them, was a young woman no older than Lavender with short curly, red hair, green eyes and freckles that dotted her pale cheeks. She sat on the floor, grasping her head while pots and pans surrounded her on the floor. Staring at the red haired girl on the floor, it took Lavender several seconds to respond to the scene.

Kneeling down, she grasped her shoulders and shook her lightly. Meanwhile, Missus Tubbs sighed loudly and began rumbling and grumbling about the mess. Her complaints died out as she disappeared into a room, tucked away at the back of the kitchen and shut the door.

Holding the other girl, Lavender watched the older woman walk away. Her attention soon returned to the other female, who was sobbing softly.

"Oh, Harriet, darling," she cooed softly, "are you alright?"

There was a timid nod from Harriet and Lavender helped her to her feet before picking up the pots and pans. They were all dirty, and some where still warm. It was a relief to Lavender. If they were clean, they would have to be washed again. It was a rule that Missus Tubbs enforced. The old woman was very sweet, and loved her shop, pastries and customers. Serving them food that was cooked with dirty utensils was just unacceptable. But then again, that was a golden rule to anyone in the culinary or baking business.

"I-... I'm such a klutz , Lavender!" Harriet cried while leaning against the granite counter and burying her face into her hands.

Setting the kitchen utensils into the sink, Lavender turned to her friend and frowned. Walking over to her, she wrapped her thin arms around Harriet's slim form and pulled her into a comforting hug. She rubbed the red head's back soothingly.

"Don't say that," she said softly, "you're not a klutz."

"But I am! I can't do anything right!" Harriet wailed.

Lavender frowned even more.

"Pish posh!" Lavender laughed suddenly, "you're probably just having a bad day, Harriet, love. Besides, you make the best plum tarts and cherry jam in all of Hickorytown!"

Shakily, Harriet laughed. She found comfort in Lavender's words. Yes. Maybe that's what's wrong. She was just simply having a bad day. The two young women laughed and then busied themselves in the kitchen. Lavender threw on a similar apron that both Missus Tubbs and Harriet wore and weaved her hair into a neat braid so that it was out of the way. Feeling better, Harriet jokingly informed Lavender that she would abstain from the treats and anything that might break, such as the plates and tea cups, which the strawberry blonde responded to by laughter.

Eventually, Missus Tubbs emerged from her tiny office, and was quite pleased that work was being done. Handing Lavender a chocolate cake, she shooed the maiden out of the kitchen and into the store to decorate the cake. Taking the glass cake stand with the said baked good, she did as she was told; though momentarily returned to the kitchen to get the chocolate whipped cream, some chocolate syrup, some thin pieces of chocolate and other things she would need before starting to decorate the cake.

Lavender liked decorating the cakes. It was her forte when it came to baking- not that she was bad at everything else! She remembered how bad she used to be when she had been child. It took her years for her to get where she was now. That also included, countless kitchen fires, burnt and raw cakes and breads and stomach pain inducing taste tests. Recalling the fond memories, Lavender could not help but to laugh. Once, Mister Oak had to be rushed to the doctor because of food poisoning. A tiny smile graces her lips as she used the chocolate syrup and a pastry bag to make neat and detailed swirls on the cake.

Taking a step back from her work half an hour later, Lavender allowed her dark eyes to absorb her masterpiece. Using the tip of her index finger, she re-adjusted one of the thin pieces of chocolate a bit. Tilting her head, she smiled widely and nodded. It was perfect! Informing the two other ladies in the kitchen, she carefully picked up the glass stand with the cake, she returned to the kitchen and placed it into the large refrigerator that Harriet had been so kind to open for her.

Sighing heavily, Lavender leaned against the cool surface of the refrigerator. Harriet laughed at her dramatic antics, while Missus Tubbs chuckled. Giggling, she pushed herself off the refrigerator, she turned to the store and began to clean her mess. While wiping the counter clean, something by the window caught her attention, or rather... Someone. And before she realized, she was madly waving with both hands in hopes to attract their attention. Which is exactly what she did.

After all, it was hard not to notice the woman waving wildly by the display window...