She begins to pour the tea as he watches her wrists as if they could help him understand why he's come to her and not Zoro or Usopp or, god-forbid, Franky. To break the silence he adopts a tone that is polite yet distant, perfectly attenuated to his choice of suffix: "Wano suits you Nico-ya." She decides to take this for the compliment it is. "Isn't this nostalgic Trafalgar, it's like all those nights on the Sunny sharing tea together when neither of us could sleep." She slips in and out of different ways to address him signaling that she does not know the current state of their increasingly personal alliance. She waits for him to set the tone. He regards her quietly. He exhales, his whole body relaxes into the role he's chosen, that which is more comfortable for him: captain. "So that's how this will play out," she thinks. He offers, "I've got some information to pass on to your crew and we can be alone here, it is a convenient cover." All she says is "Oh?"
She almost pauses, but that would disturb the steady flow of tea, a tell. Paranoia has served her well, kept her alive. She's grown, she's come to value herself and, in that value, she's come to realize the right to her own destiny. Really, it was Kinemon who sketched out the broad strokes of the Wano plan, and everyone filled in their own role. She choose this. She can't believe that he was somehow involved in influencing her current position. No, it's just the way he wants it to sound, a suggestion that she, that her position, was fitting into his plan. It's a bit presumptuous. But, she doesn't know on whose end. Is she presuming too much? It's just that the situation is, well . . . convenient.
Captain Trafalgar leans back into the wall and kicks out his limbs. He assumes his favorite position, alert yet lazy, and begins to lay out all his intel on the enemy: numbers, location and the worrying names of supernovas who have joined his cause. This was not anticipated. She wonders if her Captain could manage to turn them, to charm them as well as he did the Surgeon of Death. Clearly, they will need all the help they could get. Speaking of, she's pretty sure Law's original plan to take down Kaido was a calculated chess move and not the frontal assault it is rapidly becoming. He is too smart to get himself involved in something like this, yet here he is. How much of it is loyalty to her Captain, how much of it is ambition? Did he know the location of the Shogun's poneglyph? Did he care?
Captain Trafalgar puts down his tea too deliberately to be doing anything but feigning indifference, "how about you, are you planning to dance in the Shogun's private chambers Nico-ya?" "Ah, so he does know about that," she thinks. She feels an undercurrent of something. "Yes, that would be the request and culmination of my training as a geisha." "I see," he drawls.
He no longer holds her gaze. His eyes are still hooded, keen, but this time they drift languidly to the wall behind her. The way they unfocus reminds her of how he looks in his reading glasses. She would never have associated glasses with Trafalgar Law, but she found she liked them. In command of his ship, looking over records, he was competent, professional, hot. She clamps that down and replaces it with "a strong ally." He reaches a hand to tap on the incense stick burning low to signal the end of their time. He looks up, holds her gaze again. Except, it isn't Captain Trafalgar this time, it is Law. And, Law is something entirely different.
Law is an artifact buried for thousands of years. A vessel to unearth: a whole history inscribed if you shine the light just right to catch the lettering. Law is both the thrill of discovery and the clues. Law is a thread to research, to follow and to never unwind. Law is a great archaeological feat. She has, she will, find him. She almost feels she has again when he moves to open his mouth and . . .
And, the incense burns out and Law becomes Captain Trafalgar. When he finally says, "you did well, you should get in," she can't help but feel she is starting over, sifting through the sand. So she simply says "Thank you." Trafalgar nods. "I'll be back, I've bought the rest of your time after all." He tips his hat, picks up his sword and leaves with what is at once both threat and promise.
