AN: A very quick passage from a story I may or may not continue. For now I'm just playing with the idea. The girl in this story is 17 yrs. and Brook is 38 yrs. just in case anyone cares.


Sometimes she would guide his hand to her chest, all disreputable intent and inapt thoughts put aside for but a brief moment of pure innocence, and allow him to feel her heart beat as he gently drummed his fingers against the very spot and quietly but playfully whispered "barump, barump" with the steady rhythm of her life. She jauntily rocked on her heels, her smile growing wider, musing at the very thought that a man who had ever only known piracy as a sole motivator throughout his entire life could be so tenderhearted, so fatherly. And yet it all seemed to make sense when she watched his grin split just a tad wider, when his ludicrous laughter resonated through the air, when a content sigh of delight escaped his lips. Brook was just that type of person. He always had been.