"You weren't invited."
The words hit her with a vehemence akin to lightning, jolting her as if she'd been physically struck. Her eyes snapped open as the sound resonated, but the sudden introduction of sunlight left her blind and disorientated. The world around her was diluted and formless- little more than a shifting, flickering current of dark shadows and multicolored light. But even as she watched, the world slowly began to make sense.
Blue separated from the palette of colors, thinning out and steadying, becoming the sky. The greens twisted and fanned out into a stunning canopy and backdrop, and every color in turn became part of the world around her. The shadows dripped down into the trees, encompassing her with walls of bark and leaf, with ribbons of light streaking through the gaps. Birdcalls echoed from just out of sight; the air smelled of mandarin oranges, even though there were none to be seen.
She noticed then that she was slumped over on a table. Her arms were folded before her, offering a place to rest her head. She blinked in disbelief. Had she really fallen asleep? Her recent bout of insomnia was obviously getting to her, if she had let her guard down here. Not that she was entirely sure where here was.
She quickly realized how idiotic it was not to know her location, and then remembered just how dangerous it was as well. She pushed back from the table instantly, righting herself before her brain could even catch up. In her haste her elbow collided with the back of her chair, and she jumped in shock as the rough wood left scratches across her skin.
But the stinging dissipated almost instantaneously, and her attention drifted to the flash of yellow that caught her eye. Glancing down, she was surprised to find herself in a long, pristine summer dress, overlaid by an equally spotless, white pinafore. It lacked even an ounce of her personality, and was so far from her style, causing her to wonder just what sort of liquor had ever possessed her to buy it.
Her thoughts were instantly disturbed by a sudden, deep rumbling to her right. Turning to the source, she nearly fell from her chair in fright, though the fear quickly left her. Lying against the table in a manner that mimicked how she had been, a large, white bear slumbered peacefully, releasing the occasional snore. Despite its size and fearsome teeth, it looked perfectly harmless. There was even a blue teapot perched on top of its head, but she didn't have time to mull over the oddity.
"Do you make a habit of crashing private parties, Miss Nami? Or is this a new hobby of yours?"
She had almost forgotten that it had been a voice that had awoken her. It was that same voice that spoke now, and now it created a pit of dread within her. She turned so quickly that she felt dizzy, but the wave of nausea that followed had nothing to do with that. It had everything to do with the man sitting not even a foot from her.
Why is he here?
Wearing a black dress shirt, black dress pants, and a sharp yellow vest, Trafalgar Law was inclined against the table, looking entirely unperturbed by their proximity. With his chin propped up by his palm, and his gaze fixated on the intricate teacup being twirled in his other hand, he was so perfectly casual that Nami felt she could risk taking in more of his appearance.
She noted that his sleeves, perhaps for the first time, were actually at his wrists, but that the buttons along his neck had been undone, as if he'd recently altered his outfit in some way. Even more noticeable was the dark top hat he wore, which on closer inspection seemed to be made of some sort of fur. A tag was pinned to the outside, "140/90" scrawled sloppily across it.
How could I have fallen asleep with him here?
As he spun the black porcelain between his fingers, not even sparing her a glance, she finally remembered that he had asked her a question.
"I-I didn't realize this was a party." She stammered, her eyes leaving him as she inspected the table. Stretching for almost as long as the eye could see, and with more seats than she could count, the table had been set with a truly massive assortment of teapots, teacups, saucers, dessert plates, serving trays, silverware, and more of the like. The collection of porcelain, glass, and silver gleamed in the light, and she was suddenly struck with the urge to run her hands across the pieces; she could practically taste their worth on her tongue.
"Well, that obviously makes everything alright then." The way he said it struck a chord within her, but she wasn't sure why. Indifference, laced with sarcasm, and maybe impatience; that was the only way she could think to describe his response, the only words that fit.
He was still staring at the cup, but now his attention was on the contents within, contents which she could not see. She had the nagging suspicion that his rapt interest was feigned, but she couldn't be sure. Maybe she just didn't appreciate tea the way he did.
But how likely was that?
Realizing he wasn't going to say more, she struggled to come up with a response, something to justify her actions. Coming up with little (nothing, actually), she crossed her arms in irritation.
"I didn't see the harm." Her defense was weak; in reality she couldn't remember why she had wanted to sneak into the party. It was hardly worth it, considering it was so dull she had fallen asleep. And given that the two of them, plus the sleeping bear, were the only living things visible, she doubted that it even had the right to be titled a "party".
She instantly wished that she hadn't thought about it that way, because she couldn't help the chill that crept up her spine. He was the only other (awake) being there, and surprisingly that did nothing to put her at ease.
"You wouldn't." She almost missed his dry retort, but it made her look at him again. She was relieved to see that he still wasn't paying her much attention.
Then he reclined in his seat, balancing on the hind legs of the chair. "But as you can clearly see," he gestured vaguely at the table, "we're a little short on seating. So it'd probably be best for you to be on your way."
The sarcastic dismissal, the cruel look in his eyes, the blatant lie, all of it sparked her anger. But she kept her temper in check, her hands smoothing out her apron as she spoke. She could fight fire with fire, and words were definitely his weapon of choice today.
"But I'm having so much fun," she offered a coy smile, "I mean, you're such an entertaining host."
That definitely earned her a sidelong glare, but surprisingly he didn't offer a retort. Instead, he leaned forward again, letting all the legs of his chair touch the ground as he reached out. She watched as he lifted up the teacup that that been sitting in front of her. He stared into its contents, and though she would never admit it, he had her curiosity aroused as a slight frown marred his features.
"Your tea's gone cold." He muttered, his bruised eyes narrowing as he stared her down, disapproval evident in his posture. "That's a horrible waste." She blinked, not having expected that. But then, how could she have seen that coming?
"That's not even mine!" She complained, for some reason upset by his judgmental glare. It wasn't like she cared what he thought of her, but she refused to be blamed for something she hadn't done. Hell, she didn't even accept the blame for the things she had done.
"I'll make you more." He suddenly announced, carelessly tossing the cup away, letting it shatter elsewhere. She rolled her eyes; he clearly hadn't been listening to her. He wasn't even making sense now.
Then again, at what point exactly had he been making any sense?
"If you don't drink it while it's hot, it won't help you." He lectured, carefully selecting a new teacup, placing it before him before collecting several kettles and containers. It all looked too complex, the mixture of spices and liquids too complicated for her to follow. Then she caught the meaning of his words, or rather, she didn't.
"Help me with what?" She questioned, but he didn't pay her the slightest attention. Huffing in exasperation, she returned her attention to the bear on her other side. He was still fast asleep, though now and again he would burst into random bits of song. It was sort of cute- she stroked his fur as he muttered something about snakes -but mostly it was just weird.
"It's impractical." Law's voice cut through her musing, reeling in her attention yet again. His voice possessed a finality that seemed too intense for such an ambiguous declaration. Watching as he glared into the teacup, she noticed that he wasn't even addressing her, or at least that was the way it seemed.
"What is?" She pressed, feeling bold. He blinked, looking stunned for the half second that passed before he rounded on her. She guessed that he was unaware he had spoken aloud, but she knew he wouldn't admit to it. He gave her a trivializing once over; beneath those pale eyes, she felt entirely exposed.
"Your outfit. It doesn't suit you." She was almost positive that his earlier statement had not been about that, but she was far too offended to care. Just what was wrong with her- she glanced down- frilly, lace-lined apron… Alright, so he had her on that. She looked ridiculous. But he was wearing a furry top hat, which automatically jeopardized the credibility of his fashion savvy.
"You shouldn't make personal remarks like that. It's rude." She sniffed, crossing her arms again.
"Here. Drink it before it chills." He apparently hadn't heard her, his expression neutral as he placed a brand new cup, complete with a mismatched saucer, before her. She glanced down, finding her reflection in its dark contents. The tea did look tempting, and she was quite thirsty. Her fingers sifted through the steam rising from the porcelain, her hand pausing as she grasped the handle.
"…Thank you." It was delayed, and came out grudgingly, but she felt obligated to be courteous, at least to some minor extent. And that clearly wasn't something he could ignore.
"So, you do have some manners." His customary smirk finally gracing his lips, she suddenly realized just how odd it had been to see him without it. The sly twist of his mouth pretty much made her want to punch him, but she refrained, as that would make her appear rude.
"Like you're one to judge." She muttered, sipping her tea; it was good, though she couldn't recognize the flavors. His grin widened, his voice taking on a teasing note that hadn't been there before.
"Who's making personal remarks now?" So, the bastard had heard her; all the more reason to send him flying across the table. She didn't though. She should have, but she didn't. Instead, having no witty comeback, she decided to change the subject.
"What's with the bear?"
They both turned to stare at the creature, which had begun singing again, even in its sleep. Law's smirk was still in place as he watched the creature gnaw on a teapot.
"What do you mean?" He responded, after making her wait an almost infuriatingly long time. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again.
"Why is he here?" She spoke slowly, making sure he caught every word.
He waved his hand dismissively, taking a sip from his own cup, "Because he can be." His ambiguity was starting to annoy her (actually, it had annoyed her from the get go).
"Do you make a habit of being useless, or is this a new hobby of yours?" She mimicked his earlier sarcasm, but her actions only made his infuriating grin widen. Not the reaction she was looking for, but she really hadn't thought it out.
"Let me refill your tea." He offered, pouring more into her cup before she even had the chance to object. She hadn't even realized that she had drained her first cup. She hardly noticed that she was already drinking her second. But he had. And he was quick to fill her third, which she also drank. She paused as he filled her cup for the fourth time, though by this time a smile was resting on her features, which had softened considerably as she relaxed into the chair.
"Feeling better?" He asked, resting against his palm, his smirk back in place. He had turned to watch her, his ice pale eyes gleaming. She smiled at him, realizing that she did feel quite a bit better.
And that's how she realized something was horribly, horribly amiss. She sat up straight at that moment, spine stiffening as horror swept her face. She turned on him, silent fury etched into every tense muscle.
"What did you put in my tea?" She practically hissed, though he didn't seem too fazed. He watched her with a bemused expression, tilting his head back as if in deep thought.
"I put a lot of "things" in your tea. You should try to be more specific." He chided, his eyes glinting with some bitter pleasure. She grit her teeth, seething just beneath the surface. Not that she tried hard to hide it.
"Did you put something in my tea…that I wouldn't want in there?" Her words were slow and choked, her anger doubling as every word only seemed to increase the span of his grin.
"Of course not." He was obviously lying, and he definitely wasn't trying to hide it. She wasted no time in calling him out for it.
"You're lying!" Like hell she would let him get away with this. Whatever 'this' was, she wasn't entirely sure yet. He seemed to ponder the accusation.
"That is a definite possibility." He admitted finally, making her wait for the answer yet again. He was still casually reclined against his palm, his eyes lazily sweeping her seething form. She would probably explode with rage soon, it certainly seemed that way when she realized he wasn't going to elaborate.
"What was it?" She tried to calm her breathing, closing her eyes briefly to compose herself.
"You shouldn't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer." His response nearly floored her.
"Of course I want to hear the answer!" She didn't think it was possible to want to hurt something this much. He didn't look impressed with her resolve though, which was typically an impressive feat in itself.
"If you knew what it was," he explained it with the patience of a kindergarten teacher, "you'd change your mind."
A thousand scenarios, almost all of them dealing with castration, went through her mind. None of them seemed brutal enough.
"Tell me." She spat, raising her arm. He wasn't fazed. Instead he just watched her, expression almost bored. Slowly, with a calm grace that pissed her off to no end, he lifted his own hand, gently lowering her clenched fist. Surprisingly, her anger began to evaporate at the contact.
"The answer would scare you." He admitted, voice soft, and indeed terror did course through her at those words.
"Tell me." She repeated, though her voice was hoarse this time around. There was a cold glint in his eyes, his smirk completely fading as his grip on her hand tightened. She resisted the urge to flinch as he leaned in closer, and instead settled for turning her face away from his.
"This can all turn into a nightmare very fast, Miss Nami." The feel of his breath on her skin made her shiver. "Trust me when I say: it's not a favorable option."
Her brow furrowed as his words registered, and she was left more puzzled than afraid. He released her hand, turning away from her and back to his tea. But she wasn't done with him yet.
"I- don't understand what you mean." She admitted at length, hands running over her apron nervously. But why was she nervous?
"Of course you don't." He responded dryly, shooting her an annoyed glare. The look put her on edge again, her whole body tensing up.
"It's not my fault your answers are shitty!"
"Maybe you should learn to ask better questions."
"Maybe you should tell me what the hell you put in that tea!"
He didn't respond, not right away. He turned to face her again, staring down at her with shadowed eyes and frozen features. As the minutes ticked by, she began to feel truly intimidated; She began to fidget beneath his incinerating stare.
"You've been anxious, but I can change that." He said it with such confidence, such conviction, that for a second she believed him.
Locking eyes with him, she asked the question that probably would have been best left neglected.
"How?"
That was around the time he took her hand, his nimble fingers slipping in between hers. It took her a few stunned moments to grasp the entirety of the situation, and a few more moments to translate the data: they were holding hands. And if that wasn't strange enough, his expression suggested that it was the most natural thing in the world. Or, well, at least he didn't look disturbed. That made everything worse, of course, but so did the fact that- she didn't want to admit it- she found the gesture strangely comforting.
It was obvious that the tea had been drugged, yes?
She wanted to pull her hand away, that's what she should have done, but she found that she was too relaxed to exert the effort. She didn't have the energy to fight, not right now, not with him so close, and so warm. He smelled of cinnamon and scotch, and she closed her eyes to breath in that scent. What had she been thinking about?
"One of the ingredients is chamomile, it'll help you sleep. Stop the dreams." He murmured, his words a hot whisper against her skin. Had he gotten closer? She wasn't sure, but his words were finally sinking in. She blinked with confused, tired eyes.
"How did you know-"
"That doesn't really matter." He dismissed her worries, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers. She should have pressed for more information, but something was impairing her judgment. She stifled a yawn, her eyelids feeling heavier than usual. The world around her was beginning to fade, the color seeping out as the landscape crumbled away like paint chips. She watched the color drain out of her dress, her free hand running over the lace of her apron one last time.
"I'm tired." She admitted. He smiled at her, and had she been in a better state of mind she should have recognized how wrong this all was. His voice was too disarming, his expression too kind. But she could hardly think about that now.
"Then you should sleep." Was his response, as he slowly massaged her hand. She agreed with him, sleep sounded like a godsend. But, there was still a nagging thought. Something she couldn't let go, even in this situation.
"One more question." Despite the fog overtaking her mind, the words rang clear and firm, filling the air and leaving no room for argument. He ceased his ministrations, pausing before inclining his head. He actually looked interested, or at least he appeared to currently find her more fascinating than teacup patterns.
"Why is it you?" She wasn't entirely sure why she placed so much emphasis on the last part, but it did bring to attention what her deepest concern was. Why was he, of all the people, the one here?
The hand that had been so casually holding hers now encircled her wrist, pausing before it snapped shut like a handcuff. His grip like a vice, the calm was suddenly shattered, though her exhaustion remained. She suddenly remembered why she didn't like being close to him. And he was far too close.
"I think you'd prefer me not to answer that one."
She was terrified, not by the words, but by the bitter, mocking tone of his voice, and the way his smirk had twisted into something almost demonic, his eyes hardening like ice; something in them told her she was missing something obvious. But even in her terror, she realized his response still wasn't satisfactory. She wanted a real answer.
"Why?" His face lightened a bit, not much, but enough to show his amusement. But then it darkened, into something almost spiteful, and her fear spiked again as she realized he might truly be Mad. But the world around her was fading far too quickly, and exhaustion was taking its toll.
Still, in those last few, disorienting seconds, he pulled her close, and lifted her hand to his face. His eyes were brilliantly cold, even as all the color left them. His voice was laced with sarcasm and venom, and for the first time she realized something. He wasn't just annoyed, he was downright furious.
"Because, my dear," he pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist, and right before the darkness consumed her: "the answer would terrifyyou."
Done by request.
Review please?
o3o