Between You and Me

The sand is nice and dry today.

Suddenly, it isn't.

Had he been a younger man, Sir Crocodile might have made scene. Instead, he reaches out with invisible fingers beneath the earth, tracing the disturbance to its source.

He turns east, squinting against the sun.

The interloper is clever, shielding himself from sight like that.

He wears a thick cloak—that's all Crocodile can really make out.

As he gets closer, the newcomer slowly becomes clearer. The tattoo is unmistakable.

"What brings you to Alabasta, Dragon?"

Better to get this over with as quickly as possible. The old man of Yuba is about due for his sandstorm.

"You do, Crocodile."

The scar tissue has taught Crocodile to keep his face movements to a minimum. It goes a long way in maintaining his poker face.

"You've come to give me your head? Why else would the world's most wanted criminal walk up to a Warlord of the Sea?"

"That title means little to you now. It is a shield and nothing more."

That gives Crocodile pause.

"Going to tattle on me, then?"

The Revolutionary Dragon almost laughs.

"What good would it do for one criminal to expose another—especially a criminal like you?"

Again, Crocodile feels off-balance. What is he playing at?

"A criminal like me? A Warlord of the Sea stands in much higher esteem than a 'deranged, deadly Dragon of a man.'"

He smiles at the pieces of propaganda sliding off of his tongue. Dragon looks just as amused.

"Will the people still love you once you've lead this country to ruin?"

"Why would I do such a thing? I make a good living here, as a legitimate businessman. Cobra's a man of the world. He knows the evil isn't in the gambling. It's in the gambler."

In his coal black cloak, Dragon looks less like a man and more like an obelisk.

"You can insult my intelligence all you like, Crocodile. I am not leaving until I receive an answer."

"Then ask. How can I answer your question if you don't ask? I'm waiting."

"Once you have this country in the palm of your hand, what do you intend to do with it?"

Crocodile glares down his cigar.

"I don't see how that's any business of yours."

"It couldn't be anything less than my business. A government man tearing down the government? I've seen it before, played out on the world stage in a dozen different ways. I've seen coup de tat, common uprising, noble infighting, soldierly seizures of power… Have you turned an anarchist in your bitterness, or are you a loyal lapdog now that you've been tamed?"

Crocodile bristles, but he doesn't quite take the bait. He turns on his heel and starts walking.

"If you're going to insult me, I have no more business with you. You would be wise to leave these borders before I return to Rainbase. I'm sure the Marines would love to add your name to the notches on their belt."

"You will stay. You will stay, or I will drown this island in more water than it has seen in the past 800 years. And how will your plan fare then, Crocodile?"

So he knows about the dance powder…There's a leak. As unsettling a notion as it is, Crocodile doesn't let it show. He casts a broad smile over his shoulder.

"How would that make you any better than me?"

"I never made any such claim, Crocodile. There is only the Revolution. 'Right' and 'wrong' are simply words."

Dragon hadn't hesitated at all. The man would inflict untold disasters on islands all along the Grand Line just to make his point? Crocodile would normally scoff at the notion, but the iron-wrought resolve in Dragon's eyes tips him off to the truth.

"You want to know what I plan on doing with Alabasta?" He drops his cigar, grinding it into the sand beneath his heel. He thinks of Dragon's throat. "I don't know."

"How could you not?"

"Victory in Alabasta is something far more valuable than the crown. It's a spoil of war. Alabasta is just one speck in the corner of the world. Why would I settle for something so insignificant when I can have all that and more?"

For the first time since the interruption, Crocodile genuinely smiles.

It is a very telling smile. Dragon knows that is all he can hope to wring out of the Warlord, even under the threat of rain.

"We'll keep in touch."

"Will we, now?"

"For what it's worth, I hope your revolution succeeds."

Months later, when he finds his Alabasta operation undone by this same man's son, it is all Crocodile can do not to burst out laughing.