Just spitting out one chapter after another. Can't seem to help myself.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.

An Uneasy Friendship

Her neck was stiff and sore that morning. It was the first thing that registered in her foggy mind. The second thing was that her pillow was incredibly uncomfortable. She shifted, trying to find a better position for her aching neck, but it only got worse as she realized the reason for her discomfort. Her pillow was her own arm, and the position she was in made her head dip awkwardly. She must have been sleeping in that position for a while if it created so many horrible cricks in her neck.

With a groan, she rolled, the movement just as odd as her position when she noticed the space she had to turn was narrower than it should be. Tired and sore, she didn't give it a second thought as she settled again. There was a hint of light behind her shut eyelids, though, that kept her from getting back to sleep easily. Tugging up her blanket and burying her head further forward took care of most of that annoyance, and she gratefully felt her mind drift away again.

Then the delayed headache came and stabbed at her dreamless sleep until she was rousing again to groan in annoyance.

Her irritation grew in volume at a sudden blast of noise nearby that she tried to drown out by burying her head even further into her blanket and arms.

"Kid!" A harsh whisper broke through the noise. "Turn that down before you wake her up!"

There was an annoyed grumble, but the volume of whatever was creating the barrage of noise was turned down and Nami felt a hint of relief.

"How long are we gonna let her crash on the couch, damn it?" She heard Kid growl, and consciousness began to come crashing down on her as she remembered where she was.

After leaving the bar the night before… Or was it early that morning? Regardless of the day, Killer drove her to their house. It was closer to the bar and she was in no condition to get home on her own, the older man telling her to sleep it off on their couch. Drunk and too tired to argue, she agreed, and somewhere after that, she was completely passed out in the living room of their house. She couldn't entirely remember the drive between the bar and the house, but she was glad to know that he had gotten her there and onto the couch.

She was almost worried for a second that Kid would get her in his bed with the state she was in.

"She's been sleeping all morning. Shouldn't we wake her and get her out of here?" Kid grumbled again.

"You just woke up fifteen minutes ago," she heard Killer answer. His voice sounded distant, and there was a faint sound of a cupboard closing and a pan being placed on the stove, and she guessed he was in the kitchen. She had a vague awareness that it was just off the living room, open to the main floor of the house with only a small dining area between it and the living area she was sleeping in. "You can't complain about her sleeping in after getting her drunk, when you do it every day, drunk or not."

Kid grumbled something under his breath that she couldn't hear, but didn't argue the point further. It didn't matter anyway, Nami was awake, even if she desperately didn't want to be.

With a drawn out groan, she forced her eyes open and pulled the blanket from her head just enough to peek out at the room. It was way too bright. How could they stand this light?

She blinked, trying to get her eyes and head adjusted to it as she looked around. There was a large patio door across from the wrap around couch, flooding the room with what she guessed was late morning sunlight. Her gaze moved back to the television on the wall behind her head. She wasn't surprised to see it on. It looked to be on some mid-day movie, she couldn't be sure, but it was violent and not something she cared to observe any longer than that. Still getting her bearings, she finally glanced over to the other end of the couch and the section that wrapped around, acting as a cut off between the living area and the kitchen/ dinette area.

He was watching her silently. She hadn't expected that, but she guessed he noticed her movement and was waiting to see if she'd finally wake up.

He was wearing a dark, burgundy tank that was big enough to hang loosely on his frame, and baggy black shorts that went to his knee. His feet were resting on the edge of the coffee table in front of them, letting her see that, like his hands, his toenails were painted in a matching color, and if she wasn't so hung over, she'd have to force down her amusement at the image of him going through the effort. She was surprised to see his cybernetic arm off, leaving a stump just off his shoulder, and a metal collar fused into the flesh and bone where the fake limb was likely attached.

That was going to take some getting used to if she saw him again.

"Quit staring," he growled, drawing her attention away to see him glaring darkly at her. "Fucking know some manners, woman."

She narrowed her eyes on him as she shoved the throw blanket off and began to push herself up. "Sorry. I just wasn't expecting to see that."

"Still don't have to stare." He grumbled and turned back to the television.

"Just ignore him," Killer said as he came into the room, a mug of coffee in his hand that he offered to her. "He's cranky in the morning."

"Fuck you. I just don't like being stared at." Kid bit out, grabbing the remote and angrily flipping through the channels to find something else to watch.

"I can see that," she said with a roll of her eyes, taking the mug with a hint of a smile. "Thanks. What time is it, anyway?"

"Almost noon," the blond answered as he went back to the kitchen. Kid grumbled about wanting some coffee, too, but was ignored by the others.

"Shit," Nami hissed, kicking off the blanket the rest of the way and scrambling to find her cell phone. She could feel Kid watching her as she dug in her pockets, and then the couch cushions, until she found it wedged in the back of the couch. Unlocking the screen, she cursed again at all the missed calls and text messages from her friends. "I better get out of here before my friends send out a search party."

Kid grunted, his attention back on the screen as she stood, only to collapse back onto the couch when a wave of dizziness and nausea hit her.

"Don't fucking push yourself. I ain't cleaning up if you puke out here." He muttered, and she tried to glare at him again.

"He's right. Rude, but right." Killer said as he came back out with a small plate of toast and a few slices of bacon.

"Oi! Where's my breakfast and coffee? I'm hung over, too!" Kid shouted.

Nami winced, then shot him another glare before taking the plate gratefully, hoping it might settle her stomach.

"She's a guest, Kid, and our responsibility to take care of until she leaves. You can show some manners, too." Killer lectured as he returned to the kitchen.

"I did last night! That's my damn sweatshirt she's wearing!" He hollered again, gaining another wince as he grated on Nami's headache.

She growled low in her throat, even as she glanced down to see a maroon zip up hoodie covering the clothes she was wearing the night before, giving her some extra warmth in case the throw blanket wasn't enough. It was certainly warm and cozy, the fur lining the inside ensuring that, and she felt moderately thankful he'd lent it to her.

With a small frown, she picked up a strip of bacon and held it over to him. He took it without a word, but his surly mood lightened and he finally gave her a smirk. He was content until Killer was done making the rest so he could eat. Once the food was prepared, the blond plopped into the corner seat of the couch between Nami and Kid, kicking up his feet as he got comfortable with them.

It was strange seeing him in baggy flannel pajama bottoms instead of the jeans he had been wearing both times she'd met him. Actually it was strange seeing both men in their sleepwear, calm and almost domestic. It wasn't a side of them she ever imagined she'd see.

The trio ate in silence, Kid leaning over the coffee table to eat with his one arm, while the other two were able to lean back, curl up more comfortably.

"Where's Heat and Wire?" Nami asked once she started feeling a little more awake.

"Work," Killer answered in between bites. "They left a few hours ago."

"Oh." She hadn't expected that. Then again, she didn't even know what any of these men did for a living, and she half expected it all to be illegal considering their penchant for fighting, and how willing they were to help her steal wallets.

"We do actually have jobs, ya know." Kid said, drawing her attention to him to see he was glaring over his plate of food at her, seemingly reading her thoughts. "Money makes the world go fucking round, and all that shit."

She pursed her lips and decided it best not to say anything, not with his mood. He did have a good point, after all, even if she didn't expect it.

"I've got some shit to do today," Kid began after finishing off his meal. He pointed at Nami just as she was getting up to take her dish to the kitchen. "Give me a few and I'll give ya a ride home."

"Actually, just take me back to Shakky's." She said, grabbing his plate on her way to the kitchen as she walked by. She saw a look of confusion pass over his face. "I left my bike in her garage."

"Huh," he grunted, but gave a shrug as he got up. "Whatever works, Kitten."

While Kid got dressed, Killer directed Nami to the guest bathroom to clean up a bit. A few quick splashes of cold water to her face, and two pills of Aspirin courtesy of Killer, and she felt good enough to get home, or deal with her friends' inevitable lectures when she told them where she'd been.

It was a relief when the drive to Shakky's went by quietly. Her headache was ebbing, but she still didn't have the patience to deal with Kid if he decided to be an ass like normal. At least his mood seemed better.

"Just drop me around the back where her garage is," Nami directed once he was pulling into the parking lot. Shakky owned the whole building her bar was at, including a loft unit she lived in, and an attached garage she let Nami park in whenever she rode her bike there. It was secure and let Nami feel safe if she ever had to leave it overnight, much like last night.

"Screw that, I want to see this bike of yours," Kid grumbled as he parked right outside the garage.

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn't argue as she turned to get out of the car. He followed casually behind her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, as she approached the garage. She spared him a glance to see his bored expression, leaving her to wonder why the hell he didn't just drop her off and leave. Deciding not to question it, she focused on entering the key code into the lock pad to open the door.

"Nice," he whistled, an impressed smirk pulling up a corner of his lips as he stepped in ahead of her to take a look at the orange and black sport bike tucked to the side of Shakky's own car. Nami quirked a brow as he crouched down beside it, resting his hand on the seat while he looked over the engine. "Is this a 1340 CC engine?"

"It is," she said, her tone a little unsure as she tried to process this other side of Kid.

"Light-weight frame… and these pistons… this must be pretty easy for you to handle at high speeds." He had a look in his eye that reminded her of how Luffy could get when staring at a gourmet buffet with all you could eat meat as he examined every feature of her bike. She couldn't help but smile at it, it was quite charming. "Six-speed takes some wear off the engine, too. Bet it's a smooth ride." She couldn't restrain her amused giggle as he went on, finally distracting him as he glanced up at her curiously. "This bike had to be pretty expensive, Kitten."

"It would have been, but my friend Franky rebuilt it for me after we found it at an impound lot together. I fell in love with it in a second," she placed a hand on the back of the bike with a sentimental smile, "and he offered to get it in condition for me to ride."

"Huh," Kid grunted as he looked back at the bike then stood up, still staring down at it. "He did a good job on that."

Nami beamed with pride for her friend's work and moved to open the small storage compartment beneath the seat. Kid stepped back, leaning against the wall to watch her. She sent him a bemused look as she pulled out a worn, black leather jacket.

"What?" She asked curiously.

"Just never took you for a girl who'd have a motorcycle." He shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest.

"And apparently I never took you for a guy with a job," she stuck her tongue out at him as he growled. "We're full of surprises, aren't we?" He snorted lightly at that, still watching her closely as she finally removed his sweatshirt and tossed it at him. It had been too cozy for her to take off sooner, and she would have been tempted to steal it if it hadn't been his. "I also didn't expect you to be so interested in my bike."

"Hobby," he shrugged again, finally looking away, as if to examine the rest of the garage. That meant it wasn't something he cared to talk much about, leaving her curious about him again.

"Maybe I'll have to hook you up with Franky. You two can talk cars and whatever technical stuff you guys like." She said breezily, dismissing his look as she slipped on her jacket and zipped it up over her tank top. She looked up just in time to see his gaze on her again, blatantly glued to her breasts as the fitted coat pushed up her bust, her cleavage standing out before she finished zipping it all the way up and covering them completely. His eyes finally snapped to hers, and he smirked when he noticed that she had caught him. Another sigh, a roll of her eyes, and she turned to grab her helmet off the handle bars. "Anyway, thanks for the ride, and letting me sleep on your couch."

"No problem," he muttered, taking the hint and pushing off the wall.

She assumed he was going to leave then, but she was surprised when he stepped closer just as she was twisting up her long hair to fit it underneath her helmet. She glanced up at him in surprise as he grinned down at her, his hand reaching out to grasp her by the hip, turn her toward him, and tug her closer, ignoring the dark glare she sent in warning.

"What do you think you're doing?" She bit out lowly, wishing her bike wasn't behind her. She was trapped there, and he knew it.

"Just thinking we should hang out more often, Kitten. I had a lot of fun with you last night." He chuckled.

"As much fun as it was," she began, reaching down to pry his hand from her to no avail, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" He frowned, his hold tightening, pulling her closer still until she was trapped between his body and her bike.

"If you just want to be friends, then I'm fine with it, but," she paused to give a shove for some personal space, "but if you're looking for something else, then I'm not interested."

His frown deepened and she heard a low, irritated rumble in his chest as he finally released her and took a step back, raising his hand in surrender. "Alright, Nami, I get that. Worth a shot, though. I still wouldn't mind hangin' out with ya, especially since you know to keep your hands off my money now."

Another roll of her eyes, and she finished twisting her hair up to slip her helmet on. "I'll think about it," she said, voice muffled by the face guard.

He smirked again and gave a firm pat to her helmet as he turned away. "Sounds good to me. I'll see ya around, Kitten."

She watched as he walked back to his car, hands back in his pockets, before slipping onto her bike and slowly backing it out. He didn't leave immediately, but stood in the door of his car, watching her peel out of the parking lot and take off down the street, breaking the speed limit without a care at all.

Riding away, she let the wind rushing by distract her thoughts about the man she left behind. He confused her, made her curious, and she didn't know what to think of that. One minute she found herself getting along with him, liking him, even. Then the next, she was screaming at him, wanting nothing more than to throttle him. It wasn't necessarily a novel situation for her, but the highs and lows with him were far more extreme than they could be with her other friends. Something about him just made everything more intense….

And she was utterly terrified.

Look! They actually had civil conversation! Also, no matter the iteration, Nami will always have a crotch rocket in my AU fics. Always. The love she had for her waver demands she have something comparable in a real world setting.

Anyway, keep up the reviews and I'll see about giving one more update before the weekend's out. :)