Title: Lost In Translation
Pairing: Smoker/Ace
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters, Oda-sama does
Notes: An attempt at an angst drabble. Published solely on the peanut butter comment. No joke. Oh yeah. Spoiler alert for the whole thing on Ace.

"Sir."

Smoker can tell she's crying even before the door opens, but that tear-stained crack in her voice, the quiver against his title... Smoker looks up and frowns. "What?"

Tashigi lowers her head and offers him the newspaper. He takes it, still watching her shaking frame as he does. Finally casting his eyes down, he can feel his own body start to freeze.

Fire Fist Ace finally caught! Hanging in the near future, Marine insider says.

Smoker skims the article quickly, certain fragments catching at the back of his throat – things like 'murderer' and 'August 23rd' and 'peanut butter' from the title of the article below because Ace always found a way to stash some of it in his backpack and tasted like the stuff more often than not – before setting the paper onto his desk.

"There's... there's a main article on... on... the... inside..." Tashigi has shed plenty of tears since the two of them were paired together all those years ago but rarely has Smoker seen her actually break down and openly cry before. It's more than a little unnerving. "I... please..."

Smoker stands and she falls down and they meet somewhere halfway. Smoker isn't sure what he's supposed to do, she certainly isn't expecting what Ace wants each time he latches onto the man with that stupid grin of his. So he holds her, arms wrapped around her back and chin resting in her hair. He feels her fingernails rake against his chest, fisting into a shirt that isn't there. Her shoulders shake and he wants to say something. He wants to squeeze the pain out of her and bring it onto himself because this is his fault – all of it is his to be blamed for.

He should have listened when Garp told him it was a bad idea. For a man of his age and rank, it was a childish thing to do, hoarding his treasure all to himself. Children are always told to share; it's one of the first lessons taught but Smoker had found himself something he wanted for himself and he hadn't felt the need to share it with anyone else. Ace was his. His.

But now look what you've done, Smoker you idiot. She's crying. Crying for you and you don't deserve it.

"Tashigi."

She looks up at the sound of her name and he wants to hug, kiss, hit – anything to make that expression go away.

"What are we going to do?"

Smoker doesn't like admitting anything to himself other than the fact that pirates are scum that need to be cleaned off the sole of society. His father had always said that.

"I don't know. Something."