Hi guys. Here I am trying out a One Piece slice of life AU on here for the first time. This story has been rattling around in my head for a little while, so please let me know if it is worth me continuing. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Monday

Trains. What dull, horrible things they really were. Marco wasn't all that fond of any form of public transport, but trains were by far the worst. Long periods of being stuck following the dark tunnels of the subway sections, and then when they did emerge into the light all that could be seen was the dirty ass end of filthy back streets and industrial estates.

Following these tedious lines day in and day out was what Marco hated the most – nothing ever changed or deviated from the norm to create a bit of excitement, and yet the blonde man resigned himself to this miserable fate. It was, unfortunately, a simple fact of life when living near the big city. Working for his ageing father and handling the family business (they owned a small transport company), the commute by train was both less hassle and far more cost effective. Traffic was always a nightmare at peak times, and Marco's car was nothing if not thirsty. The trains at least allowed the blonde man to arrive on time for work every day without the worry of getting caught in rush hour, and their schedules never changed which meant he could set a steady pattern for his daily routine.

Even so, trains were still hateful things. Crammed in with strangers like sardines in a can, Marco often had to wrinkle his nose when he was forced into contact with a stranger who either stank of nauseating perfume or aftershave, or in the less pleasant cases didn't appear to have had a bath or shower in months. Because of this the blonde had made the decision to change his work times recently, catching a later train in the morning and then taking a later one home at night, when the carriages were a little less cramped and he could breathe without too much of a struggle.

It was a Monday evening, and Marco stood on the platform waiting for the god-awful contraption to arrive and take him home. It wasn't that he'd had a particularly bad day if he was honest; a couple of boats had come in to make deliveries, all the paperwork had been caught up on, and the guys had worked well together to ensure everything was done for closing – but it had dragged horrendously. Marco couldn't remember the last time he'd done so much clock watching, the thought of getting home and slumping across his sofa both spurring him on and torturing him because he still wasn't there yet.

He let out a sigh, watching as his breath clouded a little in front of him, and made a point not to check the station clock. He would be home eventually, once the rickety hell on earth that was his train finally decided to show itself. While he usually craved for some excitement in his day to interrupt all the mundane dullness that was his life, tonight for once he hoped that the journey would pass without a hitch. The day had been too long, he hadn't slept terribly well the night before, and he just wanted to get home and relax. His phone pinged and he spared it a quick glance, scowling when he noticed it was from one of his brothers. Great, now he had to pick up stuff from the shop too… Marco briefly entertained the idea of throwing his phone down on the line, before reconsidering as the mode of transport that he hated so much came screeching into the station.

Once stopped the doors slid open with a metallic rattle, outgoing passengers stepping off quickly so as not to hold up those waiting to embark. Marco stepped in through the doors of a carriage that was relatively quiet in comparison to the others, and moved quickly to take a seat while there was still ample opportunity – the train may be quiet now but it could easily get busy again.

Now that he was on board he closed his eyes and took a breath to calm himself, listening for the bong of the doors before they began to close. It was a strange rattle and haggard breath that caused him to look up again, as a man several years his junior narrowly avoided getting caught between the sliding doors before they closed with a gentle hiss. Blinking, Marco studied the man with bored curiosity.

He gauged him as probably being in his mid-twenties, with wavy black hair and a cluster of freckles spread across both cheeks beneath dark eyes. Wearing ripped blue jeans, a yellow sleeveless shirt and a rather unique orange stetson hat, the man was a spectrum of colours in an otherwise grey world. Even the green and black bag slung over his shoulder (which instantly reminded Marco of a watermelon) was a bold statement of colour against the silvers and whites that comprised the interior of the carriage. All in all, he appeared to be the polar opposite of Marco himself – full of life, colourful, energetic, and above all with the ability to stand out. In comparison Marco was as blank and boring as the carriage the two of them now shared, wearing his black work trousers and shoes along with a grey polo neck that had just a slight tint of blue to it beneath his jacket. How very dull and ordinary, especially when compared to this unique young man now standing no more than four feet away from him.

Turning his gaze away before he could be caught watching, the blonde let out another quiet sigh and focused on a random spot on the floor, feeling his body sway a little as the train once again began to move. As it picked up speed upon leaving the station he forgot about the brightly coloured passenger, expecting him to probably move away and find a seat further down the carriage – people never sat in close proximity to one another unless they either had no choice or already knew at least one of their fellow travellers. Marco was ready to forget about the other passenger completely and return to his bland thoughts of what TV program he was going to watch when he finally got home, until further movement and colour caught his eye.

The young man had finally stepped away from the doorway and chosen a seat, but instead of taking one further down the carriage like Marco had anticipated, he sat down directly across from the blonde and smiled. "Thought I wasn't going to make it there," he said, dumping his watermelon bag on the seat next to him. "That could've ended in disaster."

Ah. Here was the awkward conversation between strangers to break the ice and lighten the atmosphere, something Marco had witnessed many times and occasionally engaged in when he didn't have any other choice. He wasn't deliberately antisocial, but a lot of the time he found talking to people he'd never see again about random every day occurrences more than just a little tedious. There was only so much one could say about the weather, or where the best and worst places were to get a decent coffee in the morning – it wasn't as if you could make friends through such random bouts of idle chit chat. Still, it would be impolite to ignore the stranger now sat across from him, so Marco mustered up a faint smile and looked over at him.

"I'll say. The doors nearly caught you when they were closing. You're lucky to be alive."

He took a little satisfaction when the other man laughed at his rather lame attempt at a joke, and assumed that was the end of their brief interaction. But instead of the carriage falling into silence, the blonde's new companion decided to surprise him by opening his mouth again.

"I'm not all that used to using trains," he admitted, catching Marco's curiosity vaguely. "Where I'm from we're lucky to see more than a handful of cars around at any given time; this was a lot to get used to."

The blonde raised an eyebrow, surprised at how intrigued this stranger had made him with just a few short sentences. "You must have lived in the middle of nowhere then," he mused. "The lines here fan out in all directions."

"Yup, way out in the country," the younger man ('Freckles', Marco would call him for now) replied. "I only came out here because Gramps insisted on it. This was the last place he was stationed and he's on the point of retiring now."

Marco nodded – that seemed like a valid enough reason for what little information he had on the matter. "So, have you just moved here recently then?" He asked before he could stop himself.

Freckles grinned, apparently pleased that Marco was now making conversation with him off his own back. "Well I stayed on the outskirts of the next town over for a few months, but I'm in the process of moving again. My little brother just got accepted to a new school here so I'm trying to get everything ready for him coming out."

Again Marco nodded, not entirely sure what to say but hoping to maintain the calm and polite atmosphere that they had developed. At least this chit chat wasn't about the weather or coffee; Freckles was certainly one of the more interesting characters he had encountered recently on his trips back and forth to work. Unfortunately however all good things had to come to an end, such as this when a blaring ringtone suddenly filled the compartment and almost made Marco wince. Freckles smiled at him in apology as he fished inside his jeans pocket, pulling out his phone. "Sorry," he said, before turning away slightly to answer the call.

Not thinking too much of it Marco also turned and looked out the window behind him, watching the world go by as they powered on towards the next station. Freckles stayed on the phone for the next fifteen minutes, but Marco was well practiced in zoning out and so completely missed the entire one sided conversation. The train slowed as they approached the platform, and before Marco realised it his new travel companion had climbed to his feet and grabbed his bag.

The blonde looked round just as the train came to a stop and blinked as he saw Freckles looking back at him. With the phone still held to his ear the younger man gave him a cheery wave, then turned back to face the doors as they opened and stepped off the train. No one else entered as the station was practically deserted, allowing Marco to watch the departing man's back as he headed for the car park. Then the doors were closing and the train started to pull away again, and Marco lost sight of Freckles.

There was a tad of disappointment in his chest as he slumped back a little in his seat, staring across at the one that was now vacant and no different from any of the others. Figuring it had been nothing more than another chance encounter with a fellow human being who lived on this earth, Marco pulled out his own phone and decided to text his brother back. Occasionally his eyes wandered back across the carriage to the spot where Freckles had sat, and Marco found himself replaying their brief interaction in his head as the train rattled on along the tracks. His life was now back to the way he had become accustomed to – bland and void of any colour.

So here we are at the end of the first chapter. I'd really love to hear what you think of this, but please be nice.