Hey everyone!

Once again, thank you for the reviews, the favourites and the follows! Some of you have been asking for an update, but I figured if I published another chapter last Sunday, well, I'd have only two days to write it. I waited instead for today to come over before I did. Please understand I've work and the weekends are the only days of which I have some time to myself. Other than that, thank you for being patient and for waiting!

To those of you who asked, yes, I do do requests. However, I can only do one at a time and I would like to write some chapters where Ace is happy too. Most requests (though I can understand why) revolve around our favourite fire-user getting hurt, harmed or the like. Not very conducive to getting Ace all smiling, eh?

On another note, this response is to gdesertsand:

Thank you, thank you for your kind words!

You're right. I don't quite accept that Marineford ever happened (though somewhere in the deep, deep part of my mind knows it is unfortunately true). However, the reason I had Garp proclaiming that he wouldn't break Ace out of jail is his belief that his grandson wouldn't actually get caught. In a way, I believe he is relieved that Ace had joined Whitebeard. The Yonko is known for being very protective of his family and would never have allowed Ace to get harmed if he could. Also, as far as pirates go, like his relationship with Gol D. Roger, Garp vaguely admits that Whitebeard is pretty decent if you forgo the fact that he's a pirate.

Ace, unlike Luffy, has strength beyond his age and that makes up for luck. He had made it this far and joined the strongest man in the world. I doubt event the marine hero could comprehend that his grandson could get captured. It was, above all, just a slip of warning not to get caught. Garp merely gave the message that he wouldn't be able to save him, and to please not put him in the position where he was helpless when it came to family.

And no, Thatch is not dying. Not on my watch.

Again, thank you so much! You don't know what that means to me. Or perhaps you do, as it seems you are a writer as well. ;)

On the topic of Stuck, I will update it maybe in two weeks? Gosh is it hard to get back into it and I've little to no idea how to continue it still. Thank you for bearing with me on that.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.

Chapter 7: When Ace has a side-project

It took two seconds of clenched fists, a long-drawn out blink, pursed lips and a stubborn frown to suppress the urge to sigh. Marco, first division commander of the Whitebeard pirates, then fiercely told himself to accept that, yes, they were to dock on the next island within the next few minutes and, yes again, they were about to spend ungodly amount of beli on sake. Sake.

Because Garp the marine hero had challenged Oyaji to a drinking contest and both the old men had all but emptied their stock of alcohol.

The blonde only had his lucky stars to thank that both veterans had been too out of it to remember who won. Oyaji did, for the record. Garp had fallen to a fit of narcolepsy and any subsequent drink would still have rendered his qualifications in the game invalid. Or maybe Marco was being biased. Who really cared when they were ordered to spend this amount on sake?!

He resented being the first division commander sometimes.

Even then he still had to supervise his family making preparations to head inland. The commanders oversaw their respective divisions, excluding those such as Thatch (who always prepared his lists of ingredients to buy weeks beforehand, and prepped his division to do the same for all the things they might need) and Izo (who was early for everything except breakfast).

"You should do this way earlier too," Thatch commented from his perch on the wooden railing. "Could have saved you countless headaches and time."

Marco huffed. "I would, yoi," he said irritably. "But I'm in charge of all you commanders, and I can't finish mine if even one of you isn't done." He raked the list with another cursory glance before keeping it in his jacket. He had to resist the urge to fold it into a paper plane and let it fly free into the sky. He paused. He really had been spending too much time with Ace. Since when had he thought like that?

"No need to get all ruffled up, birdy-boy," the head chef quipped. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Marco threw him an unimpressed stare. If not for the offer, the blonde knew he might just have shoved his brother off his seat to reacquaint himself with the sea. "I'm almost done. I just need Jozu, Blenheim and Curiel to let me know who's going in and who's staying put, yoi." A thought occurred to him and he backtracked. "No, that reminds me. Can you find Ace and ask if he's coming along? I would but there's no need for the commanders to run all over the ship to find me later on, yoi."

Thatch waved him away. "No need to explain, Marco. I know. Although I would have to say no since our favourite little brother just walked out on deck." A happy grin lit up his features. Breathing in deeply, he let it out to holler a very loud: "ACE!"

Said pirate stopped and tilted his head back, eyebrows raised. He said something neither commander could hear to a fellow division member before bounding over to them.

"Hey!" he said brightly. His eyes fell on Marco's strained features. "Hey..?" he repeated uncertainly.

Thatch chuckled. "Hey, kiddo. Don't worry about our favourite little birdy. He's just stressed out about the trip inland."

Ace's countenance changed into a frown. He shot the fourth commander a weak glare, tempered by the clear excitement that gleamed in his eyes. "I'm not a kid," he protested.

The chef reached out to push back the cowboy hat and ruffle the messy black locks in answer. "Always a kid to me, Ace-kun."

Marco had to admit he felt the vestiges of stress begin to ease as he watched his two brothers bicker. Ace had developed a light flush to his cheeks while the chef continued to playfully ply him with light-hearted comments. It had come as a pleasant (and a little…endearing) surprise when they discovered how easily their newest brother became embarrassed. Whenever someone so much as referenced his softer side, he'd go all red and stuttering and blasting out denials.

"So, Ace-kun," Thatch was saying, "if you're good, we'll even buy you something from the island."

To their surprise, instead of latching onto the brunette and possibly banging his head against the wall, Ace lit up as if his birthday and Christmas had arrived on his doorstep. The blonde had thought he looked happy just moments before, but this overshadowed that by a long run.

The words came out as a rush: "Can I come? Can I?" He turned to Marco, the soles of his feet vibrating so hard the boy was practically bouncing. "Please, please, please. I'll be good and you won't know I'm there. Marco- Marco, I'll even tell you the prank Thatch's going to play on you tomorrow."

"Hey!" the fourth commander exclaimed.

Marco raised an eyebrow. "And any other pranks the rest of the week, yoi?"

Thatch shot him a look of horror. "No! Ace, no!"

Ace ignored the brunette and nodded vigorously. He spread his arms wide. "Everything!"

The blonde felt a slow smirk creep across his lips. Ah, there it went, the stress that had plagued him all morning. "Then we have a deal. Although I would appreciate it if you do ensure we know you're there. You being too quiet is cause for trouble, yoi."

The teen beamed at him as both studiously ignored the moaning chef who was at the moment accusing the younger of being a traitor. "Yes, commander!" He threw in a salute.

Marco rolled his eyes. He dragged the offending limb away from the kid's forehead. "Call me commander again and I'll give you a first-hand lesson why I was made commander," he said dryly. Flicking the chef an annoyed look then, he muttered, "Shut up, Thatch. That's enough, you won, yoi. You're now much more of a 'kiddo' than Ace is. Happy now?"

The betrayed look on Thatch's face was so wrong on the middle-aged man's face that it cracked the two fire-users up. Ace slapped a hand against his lips as he snickered to himself, promptly jumping to stand on the blonde's side to remain in the 'safety range'. The chef never tried to attack him with Marco so near. Marco was safe. He was, above all, the first mate and the most protective of them all, aside from Whitebeard.

"Traitor," the brunette accused. "I never thought you'd turn against me, Ace! I thought better of you!"

The first commander turned his full attention to the youngest pirate. "Why do you want to go inland with us anyway? We're only purchasing the necessities and then we're out of here, yoi."

Thatch threw in, "Necessities, Marco?"

The pirate ignored him. To Oyaji, sake was a necessity. Enough said.

Ace blinked innocently. "I want to buy some stuff too."

Marco lifted an eyebrow. "Some stuff?" he repeated.

"Ahuh!"

A pause. "And what might these 'stuff' be?"

The freckled teen remained silent for a while. Something in his gaze changed, and his teeth chewed on his bottom lip as he seemed to consider the question. "Well…" He hesitated. "I have this side-project I want to work on. It's…it needs materials like wood and tools and cloth and things like that? And…"

"And you're worried I'd disapprove, yoi," Marco filled in for him, his voice carefully neutral. "What will you be building?"

Another few seconds of the kid abusing his lip. "A boat," he finally answered.

…what?

Thatch interjected, "Why would you need a boat?"

Ace looked between the two of them. "I just thought it'd be more convenient with one around." He shrugged. "I'm not even sure how it works. I just want to give it a try."

Marco considered his request. No, Ace definitely wasn't going to run away. He may have violently rejected the idea of joining them at first, but he wasn't the type of guy to make decisions so flippantly. He was one of them now. Hmmm. But if he agreed, it would be so much easier for the kid to turn right around and be all reckless and foolish. Still…he'd learn over time and, and he trusted Ace. Plus that hopeful look should be made illegal.

Too bad pirates didn't follow the law.

"Fine, yoi," he agreed, smiling a little when the kid gave a loud whoop of joy. "But I want you to report to me on this daily, is that clear?"

"Yes, commander!"

"I also want you to meet up with the shipwrights to go over your plans. We don't need you to take another swim."

"Yes, sir!"

"Call me that one more time and I'll change my mind, yoi," Marco warned.

Ace's shoulders shook as he laughed. "But it annoys you!" he argued. "I aim to please."

The blonde snorted. "Whatever, brat." He pulled the stack of papers from his jacket's inner pocket, looked through it and stopped at a half-filled table full of items they need to replenish at the island. "Do you have any idea how much the material will cost? I'll clear it with Oyaji first, yoi, though I doubt he'd disagree."

The smirk on the teen's countenance faded into a frown of confusion. "What do you mean?"

Marco tapped his fingers on the papers idly. "We need to log in the cost of the material with Oyaji. Plus we never bring too much money inland unless we need to use it."

Ace stared at him. His grey eyes were a little wider than usual, with specks of caution and surprise etched deep in his orbs. "You're offering to pay for my stuff?" he asked.

"Of course, yoi. You're part of the family. Your expenses are ours."

Thatch shot the youngest a strange look. "Did you think we'd make you pay?"

The resulting silence was answer enough.

Marco inwardly sighed. There it was, another one of Ace's strange beliefs. He wondered if he should have sat the kid down and told him exactly what it entailed to be part of Whitebeard's crew. "Ace," he began patiently. "All of us 'pay', for lack of a better word, for our living by contributing to the ship's daily needs. We run the ship, we protect the ship, and we protect our family, yoi. We earned this through that alone. Unless you're asking for half of the Grand Line, it's only right we use our funds for what the family needs."

"I don't need it though," Ace pointed out. "Wanting something and needing something are two different things."

"That's true, yoi. But what's a pirate if they can't do what they want? How we handle the funds is important, but so is ensuring everyone has their fair share at the end of the day." A thought occurred to the first commander and he gave the kid an odd look. "You could, of course, keep your own stash for yourself and spend it as you please. But you'd still be allowed to use the ship's funds, yoi, as long as you keep within the given budget."

"But that's not right! I can pay for myself just fine!"

Thatch interrupted, "Did you not allow your Spades crew to spend the treasures you kept?"

A blank look crossed the teen's features. "You mean our treasury?"

The brunette nodded.

"That's Eiichi's – our treasurer's – job."

"Well, yes, but you were the Captain…right?"

Ace glared at him. "Of course I was the Captain! What's your point?"

Thatch squinted at the kid, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as if trying to solve some complicated puzzle. "I mean," he said slowly, "that it was by your authority that you delegated which amount of beli went where, correct?"

A scoff. "Of course not. Eiichi wouldn't let me near the treasury with a ten foot pole."

The chef drew back. "Why? You were the Captain!"

The younger fire-user shrugged. "I was okay with managing our funds, but Eiichi was better at it. Said I hoarded them till we almost starved at sea." At the flabbergasted looks he received, he added defensively, "We had just entered the better part of Paradise and a really bad storm hit us about a day after we set off. The delay almost wiped us clean of food."

Ah. A sailor's worst mistake was misjudging how much they had to stock up on provisions. Too little and they might starve. Too much and the food could go bad. And no experienced chef – no chef, period – would tolerate a Captain who let the latter happen too often.

Marco decided to interject: "What of the items you wanted to purchase for yourself, yoi? You still had to get it from the treasury."

"If I asked nicely," Ace affirmed. "Eiichi can't stand rudeness of all levels."

"Wait, so you mean, even though you were Captain, you had to ask for permission to gain access to your own treasury?" Thatch said incredulously.

The freckled pirate fidgeted under the two commander's intense looks. The bottom of his lip was sucked in – getting chewed on, no doubt – as he tried to comprehend the reason the two older pirates were staring at him with such astonishment. "But it's not my treasury," he answered at last. "It's the crew's treasury. I can't spend it however way I want to without asking them when it could potentially mean our lives."

"You could steal," the chef pointed out.

An expression of affront flashed across the youngest' countenance. "What if we ran into a ship of family merchants? With kids? We wouldn't steal from them." He gasped then. "We – I mean, you – I mean, we us," – he pointed at the general vicinity of the Moby Dick – "don't do that, do we?"

Marco got the feeling that the kid was speaking from experience, and he wondered how that encounter had gone. Despite that, he couldn't help the feeling of pride well up in his chest at the complete indignation that flittered across the kid's open expression. Yes, Oyaji had certainly chosen well. This was a man of honour and brutal honesty, regardless of his moments of blatant rebellion and idiocy (which was sometimes strangely likeable, for lack of a better word, he had to admit).

Likewise, it seemed he was not the only one who thought so. Thatch had that look that meant he was desperately fighting the urge to wrap the kid in a smothering bear hug.

"Of course we don't!" he exclaimed. He did pull the teen closer though. "You, my young man, are in for a big surprise. See our resident blue bird over there? He's our treasurer, in a way. So what did you want to buy? We'll buy anything you want." His smile turned mischievous. "Even food."

Okay, so maybe that was pushing it, if the chef hadn't been lying about Ace's appetite.

Ace looked sceptical. "Are you sure? It could cost a lot."

"Don't worry about it! Right, Marco?" Thatch shot the Phoenix a pleading look.

Marco inwardly sighed. Like he had a choice now that the offer had been laid bare. Not that he really minded, though. "It's fine, yoi," he muttered. "Just remember that there'll be a cap next time. And," he added when the teen seemed ready to argue again, "you better just agree right now else we stand here all morning. I have things to do, yoi."

Ace looked between the two of the commanders. A slow smile crept across his lips despite the harsh words. Stepping away from Thatch, he stood before the two pirates and bowed. "Thank you for your generosity. I will never forget it."

The blonde snorted. "Brat."

Thatch just laughed.

"So, wooden planks, cloth, rope and goodness know what else he's stored in his room," Izo said thoughtfully as he tapped carefully manicured fingers across the dining table. "I do wonder…"

Haruta rolled his eyes. "He's been at it for over two weeks. Are we still talking about this?"

Fossa gently scuffed the commander at the shoulder. "You're just mad he wouldn't play with you this afternoon."

The twelfth commander spluttered. "That's not true! And sparring is not the same as playing, you oversized fool!"

"Oversized fool!" Fossa repeated indignantly. "Who taught you that, you little imp!"

"I'm not little!"

The two dissolved into playful banter as the other commander tuned them out as they usually did whenever their siblings broke out into trivial scuffles. Their resident Phoenix, who would have given them a look of stern disapproval, was suspiciously absent.

"Whatever Ace is making, though," Vista said as he steered the conversation back on track, "it sure isn't making Marco very happy. He has those worry lines all over his face."

Izo popped a miniature jam tart into his mouth. "He must have agreed to whatever it is Ace is planning still. That, or we'd have Ace running after him to convince him to say yes."

Blenheim snorted. "Too true. Remember when he wanted to travel to the seabed in a giant bubble? Marco had to get Oyaji to intervene. Ace wouldn't speak to him for a week."

Numerous snickers and chokes answered him, while some yelled out that they were eating. It couldn't be helped, however, as most of the crew were curious after this 'side-project' their youngest had taken up. It became apparent that it must be that important to the fire-user as this wasn't the first meal he had missed.

Another of the many things they were still beginning to discover about the teen was his fiery determination and commitment to his chosen areas of interest. It was a good quality to have, they agreed, but not when they disagreed with whatever he had cooked up in his admittedly on-a-different-wavelength mind. The only reason they had peace of mind at the moment was the mere fact that Marco was there to supervise the kid in case he decided to indulge in his more reckless side.

Vista pulled at his moustache. "I hope he gets on with it quickly. I do want to see what managed to keep his attention for this long."

He wasn't the only one.

"You won't tell me?" Whitebeard asked, an eyebrow raised.

Marco coughed into his hand, his blue eyes trained on the middle of his father's forehead. He couldn't look the man in the eye. Nope. He couldn't. "I promised Ace, yoi," he said lamely. "But…if you give me the order…"

The Yonko was quiet for a moment, as if considering the suggestion. He gave a grunt then and leaned back on his seat. "I suppose if you deem it safe enough, and have gone through the lengths of promising that child, I see no reason not to wait till he reveals it." A large grin swept across his features. "Do forgive an old man for putting you in a spot, son."

The blonde forced out a wry smile. "I want to tell you," he admitted, "but I'm concerned how…"

Whitebeard supplied, "That Ace would react poorly when you have given him your word?" He laughed at the commander's resigned look. "I trust you, Marco. Just make sure he doesn't do anything too reckless."

Marco ran a hand through his hair. Warmth seeped into his skin at the sheer trust his father had in him as he briefly entertained the idea of staying up with the older pirate for the night. Then he remembered that Ace had wanted him up early in the morning. Sighing, his shoulders sagged. That brat. Really, this was more trouble than it was worth. They weren't even sure if his plan would work!

"If that's all, Oyaji," he said. "I have to get up early tomorrow morning."

Whitebeard nodded and let him go after making an attempt at messing the blonde's hair. "Tell Ace he better not burn down my ship!" he called after him, laughing all the while.

[The next morning]

Marco never thought he'd have reason to thank his post as first division commander, which demanded his early rise every morning since what might as well have been forever. He loved the job dearly, of course, and even though there were moments where he wished he didn't have so much responsibility on his shoulders, he also knew he would never cart the job off to any other. He'd worry too much. And he'd probably butt his head into every issue until they kicked him off the ship.

…or it could be the more likely occasion where he had been killed and someone else had to take over his post.

Beyond that, the demands of his position had made him used to late nights and waking before the crack of dawn. It seemed even fate was pushing him to help his youngest brother with his latest escapade, he thought in amusement.

Slipping his feet into his sandals and shrugging on his purple jacket (which Ace had said was perfect for him if he liked it, and "no one else's opinions matter, Marco. That is not a hideous looking jacket"), he wondered how on the four seas said brother managed to rope him into this project of his. Ace had shown him some blueprints of a skiff two weeks back. He wanted it to be a one-man vehicle, powered by fire, equipped with the ability to skim beneath the water surface and yet sturdy enough to weather the toughest storms.

The blonde didn't particularly think the venture would be a success, but the bright gleam of excitement in the younger's eyes more or less took the cake. There was no harm trying, after all. At least Ace would see reason and leave him be if it did fail. If he did prevail…well, the commander wouldn't be that surprised either way.

It didn't take him long to reach Ace's room, with it being only two hallways away. Despite being a regular member of the crew, he was given his own room to accommodate for all the little trinkets or stowaways that he had the tendency to bring aboard. Now, it was full of nails, wood, papers and snacks. And now that he had stolen his way in, it became apparent it was full of a sleeping Ace too.

The kid was sprawled on his front on his bed. His face was turned away from the door, half covered by the shadows of dawn. He somehow had managed to entangle his bottom half in sheets, the sole of his right foot peeking out and twitching. In the darkly lit room, Marco could make out the edges of Whitebeard's symbol on the kid's back. Not for the first time, he felt a tingling of contentment at the sight.

"Hey, Ace, yoi," he murmured as he reached out to shake the brat awake. It was just like the kid to want to wake early to 'test drive' his creation and yet need to be awoken for it when the time came. Marco was lucky, he supposed, that Ace had already deigned to inform him. He inwardly shuddered at the thought of the kid taking to the seas alone under the night's dark sky. "Ace," he repeated.

He sighed. The brat could sleep through anything. "Ace!" he said louder. He lit his fingers into blue flames and gently tugged at one muscled shoulder.

A soft murmuring answered his commands and the freckled pirate shifted in his sleep. There was a soft sigh. "'o is eet?"

"It's me, Marco, yoi."

Grey eyes blinked blearily at him before slipping shut. "'m shleep…"

Marco flipped the pirate onto his back. "You asked me to wake you up, Ace. Now get up," he ordered.

Ace seemed to struggle to open his eyes again. After a full ten seconds of what appeared to be a weary battle, he finally looked half-awake enough to recognise the stern Phoenix staring at him. "Marco?" he mumbled as he rubbed at his eye. "'hat time isit?"

At least his words were becoming more understandable. Even so, he couldn't help the tendril of pity as he looked upon his brother. Ace had kept himself up at very late hours for the past two weeks. This past night, he had gone to bed at two. "Four in the morning."

The teen gasped. "Noooo…" A look of betrayal crossed his features and the blonde would have laughed had the kid not looked ready to pout. "'o wayyy."

"No, Ace," the commander insisted. "Remember you wanted to test out your skiff, yoi?"

Ace's lower lip jutted out and he promptly turned back over, grabbed the top of the blanket and shoved it over his head. "No. Sleep," he repeated.

"What about your skiff? You promised Oyaji you'd show him by tomorrow, right?"

"Tomorrow's not today, Marco…so silly."

"But you have to test it out, yoi," the blonde pointed out. "We're going to the island to show them when it's done."

"Not going."

An eyebrow twitched. "Not going? Are you sure?"

"Hm!"

Marco made a show of exhaling noisily. "Oh well," he said, voice loud. "If you insist, yoi. I guess I'll just tell Oyaji we failed. Maybe if I just break the skiff and show him that..? He'd understand immediately." He patted where the brat's head should be, hidden under the sheets. A corner of his lips quirked when the brat stiffened under his touch. "You go on sleeping, yoi. Don't you worry about the mess. I'll clear it up, okay?"

Retreating a few steps, the blonde then kicked a few scattered wooden planks and sent some loose nails skittering. In the stillness of the morning, the racket sounded as if he was breaking apart a ship- or in this case, a skiff.

True to his predictions, Ace snapped up, blankets thrown to the floor, eyes alight with anxiety as he shouted: "No! I changed my mind! Don't!"

Marco snickered as realisation dawned on the kid as he stared at the untouched skiff at the corner of the room. Grey eyes slid to his own blue ones, full of accusation and mock hurt, and also that of plain relief.

"You bastard," he mumbled. His shoulders sagged even as he swung his legs off the bed to land on his feet. He hit the older man's chest with a dull thwack as he passed by."Tricking me like that. So mean."

The commander picked up the cowboy hat off the dresser and placed it on the younger's head. "You're welcome, yoi. Now let's get this party moving."

Ace glared at him. "Yes, commander," he said sarcastically. A moment later and he (and the blonde had to cover his mouth at this) whined, "I really wanted to sleep."

"Me too," Marco retorted after a moment's struggle. "But unlike you, I have this particular younger brother who wouldn't let me sleep. So he doesn't get to too, yoi."

"Jerk."

He barely missed an affectionate headlock.

Ace grinned in satisfaction. He shot the watching first commander a triumphant look. The skiff was floating! Well, that was the first good sign. Now for the second. He jumped over the railing of the ship, barely missing the way Marco had instantly stiffened, and landed on the hollow part of the skiff. The vehicle bobbed about, almost violent, and sent splashes of water into the air.

The teen tested his balance. Biting his lip, he gave the interior of the vehicle a light stamp. Good. It would hold. He looked up to meet a pair of intense blue eyes. The blonde had moved to sit on the railing, his shoulders hunched forward as if ready to take flight. Ace snorted. Really, the man should have more faith in him.

"I'm going to test it out now," he called out. He received a terse nod.

A buzz of energy whipped through him as he carefully lit his feet up in flames. To his surprise, the skiff began to vibrate. A loud humming met his ears and a sudden muffled bang later was all the warning he got before the mini-boat shot forward and skimmed across the sea surface.

Ace gave a shout, at first in an attempt to re-establish his balance, and then in an exultant display of success as sea water reared up in the air and met with his face and upper body. His hair whipped past his head and he didn't have to look up to know Marco was right above him. Under the darkened sky, the flaming blue Phoenix looked like an ethereal being straight out of the heavens.

For the next hour, the teen tested out how he stood affected the balance of the boat, how slow he could go and if the skiff would sink should he stop altogether. The giddy sense of joy left an odd sense of unrealism in him, as if he was still dreaming and seeing the world through a magicked scope where all that appeared was not as it should be. It was like being high.

"Enjoying yourself, yoi?"

Ace swivelled round to beam at the hovering pirate next to him. He had stopped some metres from the Moby Dick, and still the Phoenix insisted on accompanying him within a two-arm's length. At the moment, Marco's arms were the only limbs up in blue flames.

"Ahuh! You should give it a try, Marco! Maybe your blue fire would work too," he suggested as he began to circle the commander.

Said commander snorted. "There wouldn't be any point. In battles, I'd have to fly out and you wouldn't appreciate me leaving your skiff in the dust, would you?"

Ace frowned. "But you could still try? It's fun."

"Only at the beginning, yoi. You'd eventually get used to it."

The teen rolled his eyes. "Spoilsport." He held up a hand when the blonde moved to speak, already knowing beforehand his brother's intent. "Hold up, let me try just one more thing and then we can go back, okay?"

The Phoenix cast him a wary look but acquiesced after a moment's hesitation. He moved a respectable distance back.

"Alright," Ace said to himself. "Let's see how fast you can go, Striker."

Building up the heat at his feet, the flames gradually grew into a burning mini inferno that had the first commander shouting out in alarm. The teen ignored him, braced himself and the skiff jerked forward.

The wind slapped at his cheeks harshly, and Ace almost winced. A loud whooshing rushed past his ears. His body rocked backward from the boat's speeding motion and it took all he had to push his upper body forward and stay. He risked a glance back and his eyes widened. He had just traversed way out from the Moby Dick. This was greater than what he had hoped for.

In his distraction, he missed a small wave that hit the Striker and his carefully maintained balance was lost. With a loud yelp, his body was thrown from the skiff and he was sent tumbling, tumbling, tumbling-

-and was promptly caught by Marco. He hung upside down, his feet held by strong talons, as the Striker rolled to a stop some metres away.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack, yoi?" his saviour demanded.

Ace craned his neck to look at his brother. "Thanks," he said breathlessly.

Marco glared at him. "Did you even think that I might not have been able to keep up?" he went on as if the younger hadn't spoken. "Or maybe you could have fallen straight into the waters instead of getting thrown in the air?" Then, as if flabbergasted by the utterly blank look he received, he gave an indignant squawk. "Look how far we are from home!"

Ace glanced at the small blob in the distance that was the Moby Dick. "Oops?" he offered, a tad sheepish. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll do better next time."

"Keep on grinning like that and there won't be a next time, yoi," Marco snapped. "I don't know why I even agreed to this."

"Because I'm your brother and you don't want to suppress my love for creativity?"

"Because I'm an idiot who can't think straight."

The teen grinned. "You do realise you insulted yourself, right?"

Marco snorted. "Careful, Ace. I might just drop you on accident, yoi."

"Fine, yoi."

A loud rumbling interrupted their banter and both looked towards the source in incredulity. Despite himself, the commander had to bite his lip to suppress the beginnings of a smile. "Let's get you back. Before the little monster in your stomach claws his way out."

Ace flushed. "H-hey!"

"There there, yoi. We'll feed you so hold you tears till then, okay?"

"Marco!"

A laugh. "Brat."

"So, all this time, you were just building a boat?" Curiel asked, shaking his head.

Ace shot him a heated glare. "Just a boat?" he repeated. "Do you know how much effort goes into building 'just a boat'?"

The tenth commander raised his hands, placating, though did nothing to hide his snickers. "We thought you were building some kind of weapon or submarine or something."

Vista gave the pirate a hard nudge. "Don't give him ideas," he grumbled.

Many nodded in agreement and Ace snorted.

"Don't underestimate me, dear brothers of mine. I will get done what I want done," he declared loudly.

"Like how you determined to take Oyaji's head, little one?" Izo chipped in, an eyebrow arched as gentle humour flashed in his dark eyes.

As they had expected, a light pink dusted the fire-user's cheeks. He coughed into his hand and scowled. "That was different," he complained. "And I'm not little!"

"How was it different, Fire Fist?" Rakuyo asked. He grinned when the teen bit into his apple petulantly. "I remember how loudly you proclaimed you'd take Oyaji's life and how we'd regret letting you roam the ship so freely. Oh, how times change."

Ace fought back the urge to ram a pipe into the sniggering pirates' skulls and instead looked up to meet Rakuyo's gaze. "I can still beat you, Commander Rakuyo-san," he said, immediately drawing their full attention by his use of formality more so than the issued challenge. The teen was known for sparring with anyone who would indulge. His ability to be polite and well-mannered still scared the majority of them.

Said commander grinned. "Come at me then, Fire Fist-san." He cracked his knuckles. "I'll-"

Izo tugged the pirate back into his seat. "Don't be ridiculous," he chastised. "Marco will have a fit if the two of you start throwing flames and swords about. Goodness knows Ace gives him enough nightmares as it is."

Ace spluttered. "What? What did I do?" A thought occurred to him and he frowned. "Are you teasing me again?"

The kimono-clad pirate smiled, albeit a little too happily, at the fire-user. "It seemed Haruta had seen fit to show Marco a list of could-be's regarding your new mini-boat- Striker, was it?" He went on at the teen's questioning look. "Apparently he had cooked up scenarios such as 'Ace could run off anytime he wants' or 'Ace could forge ahead in battles without waiting for back-up'."

Ace blinked. "Well, that isn't a bad idea, actually," he said thoughtfully, his forefinger and thumb rubbing the very, very light stubble on his chin. Huh. He should shave. "The battle part, I mean," he added when the others looked at him in askance.

A resounding smack later and he was laughing. "I was kidding! But it's not my fault. You made me think of it!"

Vista groaned. "I said not to give him any ideas!"

Ace was already up and moving away to get out of the hitting range. Mirth lit up his grey eyes, like sunlight shining through a storm, and he bowed. "Thanks for the tip!" he called as he ran from their indignant shouts.

Fossa sighed. "I won't pity you when Marco finds out, Izo."

The sixteenth commander snorted. "Like I'm afraid of him. Besides, this make things more interesting."

The downsides of Ace's new mini-boat:

1. He may decide to enter battles without awaiting back-up.

2. He may run away whenever he wants.

3. He may decide to take a 'stroll' without informing anyone.

4. He may fall asleep while riding the mini-boat.

5. He may get distracted by the water and fall off.

6. He may drown.

7. He may try to catch a seaking while on the mini-boat.

8. He may get eaten by a seaking.

9. He may get hungry and alert anyone without a five-mile radius of his position.

10. He may forget the way back.

11. He may drown.

12. ...

P.S. Honestly, Marco, what were you thinking?

Written by: Haruta, Commander, Twelfth Division, Whitebeard
Checked by: Thatch, Commander, Fourth Division, Whitebeard

Well, that's it.

Please let me know if you have any requests, or if you'd prefer a happy or not-so-happy chapter next! And do let me know what you think! Till then! :)