Look who finally decided to publish again. Yeah, I know: amazing, isn't it? I could give you a thousand reasons as to why I haven't updated, but you don't care, so I'm not going to bother.

The point is: I'm on track again.

You want updates? I want reviews.

Don't make me spell it out for you.

Enjoy yourself, guys. If this receives a good reception [and reviews], then I solemnly swear to have the next chapter out next week.

Savvy?

An early sunrise greeted the silent island of Angel's Port. The humidity remained low for the time being, but it promised to smother the poor inhabitants within the next few hours. Hardly anyone stirred to greet the morning sun, for the previous night had been filled with constant parties that hadn't simmered for anyone's sparing. Shanks personally hadn't stirred even once since he'd collapsed on the terribly thin mattress that claimed a title of bed for him at a cheap residence for lodgings. Even in sleep his head pounded unmercifully, creating terrorizing sequences in his mind. A fresh patch of stubble formed along his chin, ascending towards his ears along the side of his face. His lovely, coral lips were parted as little droplets of saliva leaked onto the scratchy fabric he deemed a blanket, and his clothes were stained with grease, sweat, and alcohol.

Yes, it had indeed been a long, enduring night, in which he had enjoyed whole-heartedly. He and the crew had been given such a wonderful reception, all who were eager to hear their stories of adventure. Even Ben, his first mate, had loosened himself until he reached a drunken stage, something he was normally too wise enough to do [he preferred to drink sake, then water, then sake, so he was not overwhelmed by the alcohol content]. Women who had scoffed at Shanks when he was a child dreaming of a life on the seas couldn't remove their eyes or their hands from his body, though they frightened him more than anything.

And all was peaceful in his sleep... until the door opened.

"WAKE UP, SHAAAAAAAANKS~! We're taking you out todaaaaay!"

Shanks' eyes opened immediately, and he stared into his damp pillowcase with confusion. Hurried footsteps charged towards him, and before he could defend himself, he was piled on by several bodies. His groan of misery was unheard.

"Shanks, get up! Please, we've been waiting patiently for hours!" whined the voice of Charmille, who even in his confused state he could recognize.

"It's true," intervened Olivia. He could feel her at his left, tugging on his arm and urging him to lift himself up, being assisted the other two bodies on his figure. "We want to meet your boyfriend," she added more quietly.

That was the statement that initiated the restart of his brain. "Whaaa?" he asked stupidly, his head lolling off to the side and onto his arm. His eyelids weighed down on him as he tried to see the girls. Charmille had pulled the curtains aside so the sun greeted him with blindness. From a further distance, he heard soft laughter.

"Ladies, get off of him or you're going to have nothing to interrogate," Anne mused, watching her friends as they tugged on him, desperate to have him moving at normal speed. One look of the haggard pirate told the wiser woman that this just wasn't going to happen until he had a decent amount of caffeine injected into his system.

She shooed her friends downstairs to get him some food and coffee and then approached the startled man, who now moaned over his obvious headache. She smiled almost sympathetically.

"Shouldn't drink so heavily. It's terrible for your liver, too."

Shanks glanced up at her and sighed. "I don' need tha'. They can take me liver... jus' make the pain go away!"

She chuckled to herself. "My, my, my... and here I believed you seamen were so strong. Yet if you're so easily overcome by liquor, then there really is no use for you after all."

Shanks closed his eyes and lay still. Anne frowned at him as he breathed deeply and just assumed that he was choosing to ignore her insult.

"Why you call me a seaman?" he suddenly asked. "Wha' is it?"

Anne stared at him in obvious disbelief. "Are you serious? You don't know what a seaman is?"

"Isn't that the stuff-"

"No!" Anne shouted immediately, her face actually flushing red. "SEAmen, you idiot! Men who work on the sea! Fisherman, pirates, navy... You know? Seamen?"

She stared at Shanks' figure, awaiting his reply, but he just sat still and quietly. Her annoyance only grew from that, and she shook her head. "Ugh, you pirates truly are ridiculously stupid."

Shanks actually laughed at that. "You're so nasty for someone so cute."

Anne felt a twitch in her fingers. "I didn't like either part of that sentence. For one, I'm not nasty. It's called honesty, something you pirates need to hear more often so you can be knocked off that high pedestal of yours. And secondly, I am not 'cute'. I am quite... attractive as a woman. Not 'cute' like a little girl!"

Shanks laughed again, amused by how riled up he had made her. "Sweetheart, I'm not the one on a high pedestal." He grinned sheepishly at her. "You're the one with the attitude."

Anne merely glared at him before glancing back at the door, wondering how long it would take the girls to come back. "It doesn't matter," she murmured quietly, pausing for a moment, before adding childishly: "You're still pathetic."

Shanks frowned his confusion; he didn't understand her whatsoever, and he rubbed his head, trying to sooth the pulsating aches that agonized it so much. Anne turned back to him, watching him carefully with narrowed eyes before she moved to the closed door, shoving it open quietly, and stepped into the bathroom. As she expected, there was a cloth and a basin of cold water, and she dipped in the thin piece of material, soaking it, before draining it and moving over to the red-haired pirate.

"Idiot," she murmured again as she tilted his face and placed it to his forehead. It covered his eyes as well, but she saw a smile appear on his face.

"Can you give me a bath, too?"

His request was met with a very violent slap across his face, and the pain in his head increased so significantly that he cried out in pain, though the slight soreness in his cheek wasn't that bothersome. He rolled over onto his back, wincing as he clutched his head and rubbed his fingers deeply into his temple, as though trying to erase the agony from it. He heard Anne's clipped steps as she left the room and wondered briefly how women could wear such uncomfortable heels, before once again, he was overcome by another reverberating assault.

When the three young women returned, Shanks was still moaning softly, as if this could somehow help his unfortunate predicament, and they were overcome with worry. Charmille moved to his side immediately, bending herself down to put the cloth back on his head.

"S'okay, Shanks," she murmured gently. "It's just a hangover."

"Yeah!" chimed in Olivia, "You'll be fine."

Shanks nodded in agreement, stupidly, and once again, he was groaning to himself, miserable by the dull stabbing that his mind was suffering. The girls were highly unsympathetic and waited patiently for him to eventually prop himself up on his elbows, the pain now slightly faint and tolerable.

Sophie stared at him questioningly. "Are you ready now?"

The red-haired pirate sat silently, and murmured yes just before he caught himself attempting to nod. Suddenly, though, he frowned once more. "Ready for what?" he inquired. The girls giggled at him.

"To introduce us to your partner!" Charmille giggled. It took Shanks a moment to comprehend this and then he grinned.

"Oh! You mean Ben? Yeah, yeah, we can find him... he's probably already up." The captain's eyes had long-since adjusted to the light of the morning sun and he glanced at the window, fully aware that Ben, whether he was suffering from a hangover (most unlikely) or not, was definitely awake and mobile.

However, there was a squeal from his side, and he turned back to his present company, wincing slightly.

Olivia was staring at him, her mouth agape. "Isn't he your first-mate?" she whispered dramatically, her eyes wide and flickering back and forth between him and the other two girls. Shanks nodded his head carefully, confused as to why this had any significance.

Sophie shook her head, and Charmille looked thoughtful.

"I guess... Annie was right," she murmured at last. The other two nodded while Shanks stood up and looked around. He was still wearing his clothes from last night – they didn't smell too bad; he was certain he could pass it off. He was nearly out the door, the girls following him, before he pictured the frightening Brunette standing before him, angrily yelling at him that he smelled like a dog.

Hmm...

He continued moving; at least it saved him from being ignored by her. She was interesting – the girls weren't exaggerating when they informed him the previous day that she wasn't fond of any association to the sea, and boy, did she ever hate him for being a pirate. He was suddenly curious if maybe she had a father or brother or former lover that was a pirate, who may have instigated her extreme loathing and now she just jumbled everything together and decided it was the ocean's fault.

Oh, he couldn't imagine giving up the sea or wishing a day without being on it. It was dangerous, but that was half the beauty of it: something so unconquerable and frightening yet captivated every bit of him with its beauty and mystery.

He paused. A sudden comparison passed through his mind, and a devilish grin broke out: his trip to Angel's Port now seemed much more exciting than he had been expecting it to be.

He turned to the ladies, bemused as his mind ran through several possibilities at once. "What's say we go collect Anne and I'll introduce you all to my crew. We can even give you a tour!"

He saw the excitement form on their faces and knew they would pressure Anne to the point where she wouldn't – or couldn't – refuse. More than content with himself, he suddenly didn't care at all for the pain in his head and shrugged it off as nothing worthy of his recognition, instead focusing on the cruel torment he was going to cause in order to figure out this very confusing creature.

[Yo ho, me hearties!]

Anne had considered murder an easy solution for countless scenarios in her life, but this time, it seemed quite reasonable, and she was sure she could pull it off, as there were plenty of places where she could hide the bodies. It was just the damn witnesses preventing her from going any further than thought, though laziness was a factor, too. She didn't have the patience to endure the stress of taking someone's life, as beneficial for her as it would be.

Regretfully, she merely accepted the invitation to board Shanks' ship – though she gave him another slap just in case there was a perverted undertone. Apparently, he truly believed she would be entertained by walking aboard his vessel; pfft. Pirates.

It was primarily the enthusiasm of the girls that urged her to go, as she wanted to see what had them so hyped. Their giggling was much louder than normal, but maybe it only seemed that way because Anne simply wasn't happy. And she couldn't quite explain what had her so miserable, but it was that angsty feeling that filled her stomach and ruined her mood. And that stupid pirate.

"Ever been on a ship before?" Shanks asked politely as she walked at his side, the three girls trailing behind them. The young brunette quirked an eyebrow at him amused.

"No, of course not, Shanks. I rode on the back of a dolphin to get here," she responded dryly. Shanks actually laughed in reply and clapped her on her back, sending her forward several steps. She managed to secure herself before she fell and turned back to glare at the pirate. "Asshole!"

"Hey, hey! I thought it was funny... Sorry about tha'," he added, as his fingers gently stroked the spot where he had shoved her. Angrily, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it in her own, hoping her menacing stare would unnerve him as her grip was pathetically weak. However, Shanks only continued to smile.

"I knew you wanted to hold my hand, lass. No problem!"

Before a protest could be made, his right hand had completely enclosed around her much smaller one. He gripped her softly, but firmly, as he lead her onto the decaying docks. It was crammed with ships of all sizes, a few dinghies wedged between them, and several fishermen boats. Small waves gently rocked them in a rhythmic pattern, causing them to nudge each other at times. Annie had no idea which ship the pirate captain owned, until she caught site of a jolly roger... with red hair. Her face paled considerably.

"You're an unoriginal delinquent," she murdered under her breath as she finally jerked her hand away from him, wiping it on the skirt of her dress. Shanks hadn't heard her comment, and he eagerly went ahead of her to run up the ramp, clearly happy to be onboard of his ship again. The three girls also surpassed her, following Shanks with excitement, and when Anne joined them only a few seconds later, they were already touring the deck, squealing over every, irrelevant and highly stupid detail.

Anne wasn't amused. "Is this real necessary?" she glared at Shanks. "It's just an oversized boat."

The pirate made a sickly face, mocking her dislike with humour. Her eyes narrowed once more.

"Oh, loosen up," Shanks countered, rubbing the back of his head as a bit of soreness pulsed. His mouth was dry, his stomach was rumbling with a mixture of nausea and hunger, and his head was still clenching in pain, despite his efforts to ignore it.

Anne turned away from him and stared at the busy city of Angel's Port. More foreigners were there today – the sake festival was approaching soon, so most were probably preparing their taste buds. Although Anne wasn't a major drinker, she enjoyed a small glass every now and then, but the sake was too potent for her. She couldn't fathom how men and women were capable of being in drinking contests with it.

"So how long have you been here?" Shanks asked behind her. Anne didn't turn to face him, knowing full-well she'd bring him harm if she saw his face.

"Only a few months."

The pirate moved in front of her towards the edge of the ship and leaned his back against the reeling, flashing a grin at her in the process. "I see. You like it?"

She snorted and turned away. "Not particularly. I'm not fond of islands."

"...Because they're surrounded by water, right?"

Anne frowned and her eyes reverted to his face one again. His smile was more sincere than silly this time; what was he thinking about?

"...Right," she murmured in agreement.

Olivia suddenly interrupted them and linked her arm through Anne's, giving her a tight squeeze. The brunette returned her smile before Olivia's eyes swept over Shanks.

"Can we meet him now? PLEASE, Shanks?"

Anne's eyebrow perked up and she glanced at him curiously. "Who?"

"His first mate!" Olivia giggled in reply.

It took Anne only a moment to understand the reference and she quickly covered her mouth, hiding her smile as it expanded. Now everything made sense – she had almost forgotten the conversation from the night before.

Shanks couldn't comprehend why they wished to meet Ben so desperately, but he figured it had something to do with women feelings and such. Ben had agreed to stay onboard the ship for the night (they were to take turns during their stay), and he was sure he was hiding around somewhere, fully aware of their presence but too uncaring to make an appearance. He grinned and brought his hands to his mouth cupping around it to help his voice boom.

"HEY, BEN! WE HAVE GUESTS!"

A brief moment of silence and stillness occurred before the tall figure of the first-mate, Ben, crept out below from the forecastle. He said nothing as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and moved over to the crowd of women and Shanks.

"Captain."

Shanks grinned again and clapped him on his arm. "Meet these lovely ladies. Uhh... Char... Charmille, Sophie, and..." He paused and a look of panic blazed across his face. "And... and... OLIVIA!" he shouted happily.

Ben nodded his head respectfully. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ladies."

The three young women stared at him in awe – he was as handsome as Shanks!

"Oh... they look... perfect together," Charmille murmured. Sopie rolled her eyes; Anne snorted.

Shanks glanced back at the vicious woman he had neglected to introduce and grabbed her arm, bringing her to his side.

"And this is a scary sea monster. We've named her Anne; careful, she's venomous."

Ben closed his eyes as Anne raised her hand and slapped Shanks for the third time that day. "Quiet, dog, or you'll go back on a leash."

Shanks groaned quietly to himself as he hunched over his legs, clutching his head.

"You shouldn't drink so much," Ben murmured unsympathetically. Anne shot him a smile.