Okay, it took a bit longer than I thought, but here it is: the second chapter!

Thank you for all your kind reviews, they really make me want to write more (yes folks, that's a hint ;) ) Also a thank-you to my pre-reader, Vergina-spva (and to her fans and followers, no worries, I'm making sure she writes ;) )

Please enjoy ^^

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 2

"So, you like it here?" Thatch asked as Marco put on his seatbelt in the passengers seat.

The blonde shrugged. "It's a job."

His brother was used to his lack of enthusiasm about, well, a lot of things, so he just asked: "Are you getting used to not almost dying on a daily basis?"

Marco shot him a dark look, but then sighed. "The job's okay, I guess." He didn't mention that the job wasn't very exciting, but made bearable by a certain raven haired fire fighter.

Thatch hummed and put on his left direction indicator. They were headed to the man who adopted them, Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard as he was known to most, but his children all called him Pops. Marco hadn't seen him since he moved, because it was nearly impossible to get to the house by buss. So when Thatch had offered to pick him up, he had seized the opportunity with both hands. He really needed to talk to Pops.

"You seem to have nice colleagues," Thatch broke the silence again.

Marco looked at his brother suspiciously. "You've talked to my colleagues? Even I don't do that."

"You should. After all, you used to be a fireman."

The blonde shrugged.

"Well, anyway," Thatch continued, "I was trying out the cheap rubbish they call coffee, when a young fireman entered the kitchen and we talked for a while. Cute kid. What was his name again? Ah, yes, Ace. He had it tattooed across his arm, like he might forget it." He laughed.

Marco on the other hand sat frozen in his seat. Why, of all the people working in the fire station, his brother had to run into his secret crush? Granted, out of all his brothers he least minded Thatch to meet Ace, as he was, well, the most normal and very much of a people person.

But not even Marco had talked to the freckled fire fighter properly! And perhaps that was better for everyone, as now he was nothing to Ace but a colleague. But he knew Thatch, his brother was a very charismatic guy and had a lot of friends. He wasn't into men, so the blonde didn't have to worry about them dating, but even if they just became friends… He couldn't have that. Inevitably he would come face to face with Ace again, something he was trying to avoid as much as possible not to be tempted to do things to the handsome fire fighter.

But he couldn't forbid Thatch to be friends with Ace, could he? His brother wouldn't listen to him, even if he was the older one. Plus, he had to admit to himself reluctantly, there was another reason he didn't want Ace and Thatch to be friends. A very childish one. He didn't want Ace to like his brother more than him.

Being lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Thatch studying him until he spoke again. "So, don't you talk to your colleagues because you don't like them or– Oh wait, I get it," he interrupted himself, a grin on his face. "You're too shy to talk to the kid because you like him!"

Fuck, Thatch knew him too well. They had always been close. Still, he wasn't going to admit his brother was right, at least about the liking part. He wasn't shy. So he just raised his eyebrow and looked at the brown haired man as if he was crazy. "Are you kiddin'? You said it yourself, he's practically a kid. I'm way to old for him."

He had tried to convince himself that was true.

"Age is no object in love," Thatch said overly dramatically. "Plus," he added in a teasing tone, "you totally like him. You do that jaw-clenching thing, which you also did when you were fourteen and you liked that boy. What was he called? Ah, I'm so bad with names." He scratched the back of his head.

Marco shot him a deadly look. "I do not like this kid." He put extra emphasis on the last word. "And would you please keep your eyes on the road? I didn't survive that fire to die in a car crash."

Thatch shook his head in disdain, but didn't push the subject any longer. The rest of the way they sat in silence.

When the large house he grew up in loomed up in the distance, Marco's mood picked up and he smiled a little. The building actually used to be an orphanage and Whitebeard was the owner, but all the boys who grew up in there regarded him as their father and each other as brothers. Marco was one of the oldest. The youngest of his brothers were about twenty now, around Ace's age, he thought wryly.

After the last orphans had been brought in, the government stopped financing and they couldn't have any new boys. He had already been living on his own by then. But even though no more new boys nor more money came, Whitebeard had always stuck with his sons, as he always called them. Even after they had grown up.

Thatch parked the car and got Marco's crutch out of the trunk. He never held a grudge for long and helped his brother up. "You missed your old home?" he asked.

Marco nodded and got a package out the back of the car. "It's been a while since I saw Pops. How's he doing?"

"Like usual. He has been ordered to stay in bed, because his health is failing according to the nurses, but he is lively as ever."

Marco smirked, that sounded like the man he regarded as his father.

Together they walked to the house. Whitebeard's room was on the top floor and there was no elevator, so it took Marco awfully long time to get there. Thatch was patient as ever and strolled next to him, even though the blonde preferred he just walked on ahead. He hated it when people had to wait for him.

Finally they knocked on Whitebeard's door and entered after they heard the old man's voice loudly inviting them in.

"Hey Pops," Marco greeted him. Whitebeard did look quite the same as he had last time, with his large, white moustache, wearing a black bandana and being bare-chested. He was hooked up to oxygen tubes and life support systems.

"It's good to see you again, sons," Whitebeard said with a large grin on his face. "Did you bring my 'medicine'?"

Marco held up the wrapped bottle he was holding. "Of course. Just don't let the nurses find out, okay? We'll get scolded, since you've been ordered not to drink anymore." He unwrapped the bottle of rum and handed it to his old man, who opened it and took a long drought. After that he sighed contently and remarked: "Doctors and nurses are wrong all the time. You of all people should know that."

Marco grinned, but then got serious again and shot Thatch a look. His brother held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Yeah yeah, I get it. You want a little father-son time. I'll be in my old room."

After the brown haired man had left, Marco sat down , staring at the floor and trying to find the right words to begin. Whitebeard waited patiently until he was ready, taking a sip of the booze every once in a while.

"I started as an arson inspector in Sabaody," he finally begun. The older man nodded, he already knew that of course, but Marco needed to start somewhere.

"The job's fine," he continued. "But–" He thought back to his first day as fire investigator, when he looked out of the window and first laid eyes on Ace. His broad back, muscular chest, that boyish smile…

"There's a kid working there, a fire fighter." Fuck, this was hard, even though he knew Whitebeard wouldn't judge. He would just listen and that was exactly what Marco needed. He wasn't looking for advise, he just needed to get it off his chest. "I know him. I met him when he was a boy." He took a deep breath. "The night it happened." He didn't need to specify, Whitebeard knew what he was talking about. "I promised him…" He shook his head. "I don't think he recognized me, but I know it's him. Only now he's grown up and–"

This seemed to catch Whitebeard's attention. The older man looked up from his bottle and looked at his son curiously.

Marco sighed, but kept his eyes lowered. "He's turned into quite a man. And apparently a great fireman."

Silence fell in the room, only broken by the sound of Whitebeard swallowing the rum. Finally his old man said: "Have you talked to him?"

The blonde shook his head. "Thatch has," he added bitterly.

Whitebeard nodded and took another sip, placing the bottle on his nightstand with a look bang. "You should as well."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you passing out advise, Pops?"

Whitebeard roared with laughter, filling the entire room. "Since you think you don't want it, but definitely need it, son."

The blonde rose to his feet, shaking his head. "I'll go get Thatch." He exited the room and strolled over to his brother's bedroom– which was at the same time his, they had shared a room growing up – where Thatch lay waiting on his bed.

"So, you're done pouring out your heart?" the brown haired man asked teasing.

"He's all yours," Marco answered, sitting down on his own former bed. "But I must warn you, the old man is giving out advise now."

Over the next couple of days Whitebeard's words kept haunting him. 'Talk to him,' he had said, but Marco couldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of Ace hating him, even if the young man already did, he didn't know Marco was the one he hated, if that still made sense. So he kept to himself, avoiding the freckled fireman.

His body didn't agree with him, however, and often he caught himself gazing out the window when Ace was in the training area, either working out or doing something else, though Marco preferred to watch the first.

Well, he did, before he witnessed what happened today.

It was a very hot day. Not that that affected Marco, he was never really bothered by heat. So his work didn't suffer from that. It was, however, very stuffy in his office. Marco rose and turned around to open the window. And froze in his tracks.

The fire fighters had apparently decided it was too hot to work. A bunch of them had been washing the trucks when it suddenly had turned into a water fight. Laughing loudly a certain freckled fireman came running outside, closely followed by a colleague holding a bucket of water. Ace tried to duck away, but the content of the bucket landed all over him. He stopped running, still grinning, and wiped the water and hair out of his face.

Marco stared down. Could the fireman look any hotter? He was dripping with water, shirtless like usual and his pants hanging low on his hips. Slowly the blonde opened the window like he planned, his eyes never leaving the young man below and trying very hard not to drool.

Suddenly Ace looked up to the window and grinned broadly.

Instinctively the blonde took a step back. He had been caught! He took a deep breath. No, he had just been opening the window and glanced outside by chance, where happened to be standing the hottest man he had ever laid eyes on.

The arson inspector stumbled back to his chair –he often forgot to use his crutch lately – and tried to get his heartbeat under control. So much for avoiding Ace and not getting noticed.

Somehow he kept forgetting that the fire investigator was working there. It was almost like he was avoiding Ace, that little the fireman saw of him. But that was probably a little paranoid. What reason could the blonde possibly have for that?

There was something about him Ace found intriguing, though he didn't know what it was exactly. All he knew was that he wanted the man to talk to him. He had heard his voice, and he liked it, but now that he thought about it, the fire investigator had never spoken with him.

Deciding to make that happen, Ace went inside, still dripping with water. The blonde had been in his office all day, so he probably wouldn't mind some distraction, would he?

The freckled man grabbed a towel and made his way up the stairs, leaving the other firemen with the water fight. He hardly ever had any business upstairs, sometimes he had to report himself to the station manager when he had overslept again, but there weren't that many offices. In front of the second door on his left he stopped, hesitating for a moment. Did he really want to disturb the arson inspector? He shook his head. Marco seemed nice enough, so he probably wouldn't mind. And Ace wouldn't stay long if he noticed he was unwanted. So he knocked on the door.

To his surprise no answer came. A bit disappointed he wanted to turn around, when he changed his mind and carefully tried the doorknob. The door wasn't locked. Ace peered into the room. The office was smaller than that of the station manager, the only furniture were a desk and a file cabinet.

Curiously the raven haired man entered the office. Marco had a large window with a view on the training area. Ace just wondered if it wouldn't be frustrating to watch other people work out when the blonde himself had to walk with a crutch, when he noticed said crutch leaning against the wall and its owner nowhere in sight. The freckled man smiled slightly. So his walking was improving, eh?

The computer was still on. Ace sat down on the desk chair, realising too late he would leave a wet imprint. The screen showed some sort of report and looked pretty boring. Ace almost lost interest, when he noticed that the internet browser was opened as well. He snickered. If he had such an office all to himself, he probably would look at porn all day.

But oddly enough the page showed an article about Ace. The freckled man frowned and scanned the story. It had taken place right before Marco started working at this fire station. Ace had saved a little girl out of a building that was about collapse. The reported compared him to the legendary Phoenix. Ace smiled, but did wonder why Marco was interested in something like that.

He leaned back in the chair musing. Should he wait here for the fire investigator?

Maybe he should strip and lie down on the desk naked. That would surprise the blonde! He snickered. Marco had already showed some interest in Ace, with the news article and a few weeks ago by checking him out. Though that didn't necessarily meant something. After all, he could have found the article coincidentally and even straight guys sometimes checked the fireman out.

Shaking his head Ace stood up. It was probably best to leave.

He hadn't reached the door when suddenly a mobile phone started to vibrate. It first gave him a heart attack – after all, usually people took their phone with them – but then curiosity took over. It took him a while to find the phone, it lay buried under a pile of papers – probably the reason Marco had forgotten about it as well. It was a fairly old phone, but it did have a camera. To his surprise the name on the screen was Thatch. Ace felt inclined to pick up for a moment, but that would probably get awkward. He wasn't even supposed to be there.

After a while the phone stopped vibrating. The raven haired man picked up the device. Damn, he was nosy today. He listened, but didn't hear any footsteps approach. Quickly he opened the contact list. There were a lot of male names, probably all of Marco's brothers. Thatch had told him they had many. When he saw the name of the brown haired man, he clicked on it. He decided to write the number down, perhaps it would come in handy.

He considered putting his own number in the phone, but dismissed that thought. Most people didn't appreciate it when someone touched their stuff unasked-for. He did note down Marco's number.

The arson inspector still hadn't come back. Ace got a bit reckless. Instead of leaving, he decided to view the photos on the phone. There weren't that many. One showed what was obviously a birthday party. Marco was sitting at a table with a cake in front of him, looking not very amused. Ace tried to count the candles, to find out how old the fire investigator was, when suddenly footsteps neared the door.

He cursed under his breath. Quickly he placed the phone back where he found it and looked around to see if anything else looked disturbed. The seat of the chair was still a little wet.

The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Panicking, Ace dove under the desk and pulled the chair under it, so that the seat was hidden from plain sight.

The door opened and someone walked in. Ace tried to breath as quietly as possible. He didn't really know why he hid, he could just have said he was looking for the blonde. It wasn't even a lie. But now it would be weird to come out. From his hiding place he couldn't see the person who had come in.

Marco, or at least he assumed it was, stopped for a moment, like he felt something was off. Ace heard some tossing about on the desk; the arson inspector was probably looking for his phone. Then footsteps walked away again and the door clicked shut.

Ace heaved a sigh of relief, he didn't get caught. He scrambled to his feet and gave a last glance if he really had left everything like it was. Carefully he peered around the door to the hallway. No one to be seen. Quickly he slipped out of the office and walked downstairs as casually as possible. Man, all this sneaking around really made him have to pee.

"Hey Portgas, get your lazy ass over here!" one of his fellow fire fighters yelled in his direction. The freckled man pointed to the men's room. His colleague nodded and went back to work.

Ace strolled to the restroom. Fortunately he didn't see Marco anywhere. Until he opened the door of the men's room.

The blonde had his back turned to the door as he was standing in front of a urinal. He turned his head slightly when he heard someone coming in. Ace considered fleeing. He felt very guilty about snooping through the arson inspector's stuff, even if the man didn't know it. But he had already been noticed, so he tried to act casually. He had to pee anyway.

He stood next to Marco, zipped open his pants and nodded to the blonde. He earned a nod back along with a curious look. He resisted the urge to peek.

Marco flushed and walked to the sink. Ace was done as well, but pretended not to be, in order not to risk having a conversation. He was almost relieved when a sound of a phone vibrating sounded and Marco reached into his pocket. "Marco," he answered it.

Ace zipped up – after all, how long can a guy be busy peeing? – and strolled over to the sink, watching the blonde from the corner of his eye. Marco was looking at him, until he noticed Ace was looking back. "So it's just the four of us, hm? Well, I'll see you tonight at my place then," he continued his phone conversation.

The freckled man pricked up his ears. Four of them? So that had to be Marco, and the person on the other line was probably Thatch, who tried to get hold of the blonde again. Maybe the other two were brothers as well?

Why was he so nosy? Usually he didn't stick his nose in other people's business – except his friends' love life of course. But the arson inspector triggered something in him. He really wanted to find out more about this man.

"Don't forget to bring the carts. I seem to have lost mine." Marco peered in his direction and Ace realised he was washing his hands for a very long time. Hastily he turned off the tab and dried off his hands.

"Yes, I'll do that. See you tonight."

The conversation had come to an end. Ace had to bite his tongue not to say: "Give Thatch my regards." That would get awkward.

Marco put away his phone. This would be the perfect time to strike up a conversation. Only… Only he had no idea what to say. What the hell? He never had trouble talking to people!

The blonde made his was through the door, looking back one more time before leaving Ace alone. Groaning he let his head fall against the wall. What was happening to him?

Maybe it wasn't too late! He ran out the door, but instead of Marco he smashed into an angry Smith. "What the hell, Ace? I told you to hurry up! What the fuck, how long can a guy pee?" And he was dragged by his ear to the trucks, just in time to see the arson inspector heading upstairs – slowly, but without his crutch.

"Were you just in the men's room with Fenwick?" Johnson asked after Smith had let go of Ace's ear and he was rubbing the sore spot.

The freckled man frowned. "Yeah, guy's gotta pee." He wasn't shy about his sexual preferences, he liked both men and women, and his co-workers knew and accepted that. But Johnson made it sound like he jumped the arson inspector in the restroom – which he wouldn't have mind had he had the courage.

"You should stay away from him," Jones added, a young woman with short, spiky hair.

He raised his eyebrow. "We were peeing, not having a whole heart-to-heart. And besides, what is so bad about him?" He looked at his fellow fire fighters challenging, who all seemed to know something he didn't. It annoyed him, but he was also dying to find out more about Marco.

Jones flicked her eyes to the stairs, as if to check if the fire investigator didn't come down again. "Well, for starters, no one knows what he did before he came here. His whole past is a mystery."

"Maybe he likes to keep to himself," Ace shrugged. He started to wash one of the fire trucks and tried to behave casual, but on the inside he was getting nervous. He didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Yeah, this is his first job as arson inspector, manager said so," Johnson added.

"So maybe he had a career switch." The black haired man got a bit annoyed. He didn't like his colleagues badmouthing Marco.

"Then why so secretive? Even if you're pee-buddies now, I'm telling you, he is either in the witness protection programme or he is a very good criminal trying to hide it with a normal, boring job. And with a father like his, I'm inclined to think the latter," Jones stated.

That confused him. "Father? What has his father to do with anything?"

"His father is Edward Newgate."

He stared at her blackly.

"Whitebeard?"

That name did ring a bell, but he wasn't sure where he knew it from. Still, even if this Whitebeard was bad news, it didn't mean Marco was a criminal too. He just didn't believe it.

"You guys are idiots," he said shaking his head.

But still something didn't sit well with him. That afternoon he was off at four o'clock. Getting his motor cycle, he decided to take a detour before going home. The police station was about a fifteen minute drive.

"Hey Smokey," he said to captain of the police force, while sitting down on the latter's desk.

"What the hell, Portgas! Get outta here before anyone sees you!" Smoker hissed sharply.

"Relax, I here to see Gramps."

Ace's grandfather Garp was the chief of police in Sabaody. Smoker always was very private about whatever it was he and the freckled man had, but of course he was even more careful when it came to Garp. After all, the chief would hardly like to find out that his captain was screwing his grandson, and wasn't interested in a relationship whatsoever. Ace had often considered using his grandfather as an argument to get Smoker to date him. But lately he felt less and less inclined to do so, all because a certain blonde was getting inside his head.

"Then get your ass off my desk," Smoker huffed. A few desks over a dark haired young woman with red glasses looked up.

Ace grinned at her and jumped on the floor. Then he turned to the captain again. "I thought you liked looking at my ass." He kept his voice down so only Smoker could hear, because even though teasing his fuck buddy was so much fun, he would like to stay alive. Which seemed less likely to happen, there was practically steam coming out of Smoker's nose. So he quickly changed the subject: "Look, I just need you to check your database to see if someone is in there. Then I'll get out of your hair."

Grumbling Smoker clicked on some things in his computer. "Alright, who are you looking for?"

"Marco Fenwick."

"Fenwick with CK?"

He shrugged. He had no idea.

The captain grunted again and typed in something. Then he shook his head. "No one by that name, in every spelling I could think off."

Ace heaved a sigh of relief. Marco didn't have a criminal record. So he was innocent, or just never caught, Ace couldn't help but think. "What about Edward Newgate?"

Smoker looked up sharply and squinted suspiciously. "Why do you want to know about Whitebeard?"

"Just look him up, okay?" the raven haired man said a bit annoyed. Then a teasing smile appeared on his face and he leaned in, whispering: "If you do as I ask, maybe I'll stop by tonight."

Smoker looked at him like he was hoping Ace would spontaneously burst into flames – which, if it would happen, would probably won't harm the fireman, for some reason flames never seemed to touch him. Giving up, the older man turned to the computer again. "Sorry, the file is confidential."

"Aw, come on! You can tell me." Ace pouted and hoped he looked adorable.

Smoker sighed annoyed. "No, I can't get into the file, because it is confidential. I need more clearance."

The fire fighter chewed his lip a bit worried. Marco's father did have a file, even a confidential one. That didn't necessarily have something to do with the arson inspector, but still…

"Now will you please leave?" It didn't sound so much like a question, it was more of an order.

Ace snorted, but as he walked away he was sure to wiggle his hips more than necessary. Just to annoy Smoker.

"I'll raise twenty." Thatch threw two chips of ten on the small pile in the middle of the table, looking rather smug.

Marco sighed and folded, just like Izo and Vista, their brother had the worst poker face ever. It was a good thing they didn't play for money, Thatch would have been broke by now. They stopped playing for money a long time ago, because it was either that, or Marco wasn't allowed to play anymore. Unlike the brown haired man, he did have a poker face.

"So, how are things with your sexy fireman?" Thatch asked teasing while he showed his flush conceited and claimed the few chips that were in the jackpot.

Marco's jaw tightened, he tried to relax it while he shuffled the cards. He didn't need Thatch to point out his annoying habit when it came to Ace. So he decided to ignore his brother and dealt the cards. His other siblings became very interested, however.

"What fireman?" Izo asked with shining eyes.

"Didn't I tell you? When I picked up Marco a few days ago to take him to Pops, I met one of his colleagues. A young fire fighter by the name of Ace."

"Thatch," the arson inspector said warning.

"What does he look like?" Izo pretended he didn't hear Marco's tone.

The brown haired man thought for a moment, as a straight man he wasn't used to describe guys. "Tall, black hair, broad shouldered…" He grinned and slapped the blonde on the back. "Just like our Marco likes it."

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Can we please just play, instead of discussing my love life?"

"Come on, he seemed like a nice kid. Why don't you ask him out?"

He sighed. "I have my reasons."

"Is it 'cause of your accident? 'Cause you're almost able to walk again without crutches," Izo meddled in. He smiled mischievously. "And if there is something wrong down there, there are always pills you could take…"

A vein in his forehead started to throb dangerously.

"And what fireman wouldn't want you?" Thatch continued, oblivious to Marco's murder tendencies. "You're the king of fire fighters. You're the Phoenix, for Pete's sake!"

His fist slammed down on the table, making the chips rattle together. "Listen carefully, I'm not the Phoenix anymore! Not after my accident. Do you understand? The Phoenix is dead!"

Silence filled the room. Both Izo and Thatch looked to the table pouting. Vista, who had kept aloof from the conversation so far, plucked his large black moustache pensive. "Isn't it a distinctive quality of a phoenix that it can get reborn in fire?"

"Yeah," the brown haired man grinned and looked at Marco with shining eyes. "Or perhaps in the arms of a hot fireman."

~ To be continued