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A Dance for Two

Chapter Eight – Eighth Elocution


The bullet missed. Terribly.

It embedded itself in the wall behind Kidd, making a colossal dent in the wood. Red paint crumbled away as dust.

The gun was wretched from his hand immediately. Then he was tackled to the ground. If it weren't for the white-hot pain in his spine he would laugh at the absurdity of being ploughed into by a person in cowboy garb.

"Enough! Killer!"

Law thrashed even as the person on top of him made to get up. He succeeded in knocking into the left shin of those blue Native American pants with his foot, causing tassels to sway as the man went down again, this time landing beside Law.

Both rolled away from the other, panting. The gun was now back in the other's hand, and Law shrunk in on himself, trying to make himself a harder target.

"Killer, that's my object of affection you're aiming at."

Law stared down the gun, not willing to take his eyes off of it. It gleamed dangerously in the morning light. The blood his heart was frantically pumping around his body seemed to be coming out his ears. He strained to hear Eustass.

"He spent the night with me," Kidd continued. "I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't put holes in him."

What really struck Law was the utter casualty of Kidd's tone, not what he was saying. Here they were, in his bedroom, with a masked person and their gun, and Eustass Fucking Kidd was pretty much scolding this individual.

"You should have told me," said the person, rather snappishly. Law still couldn't tell whether he was looking at a man or a woman. He had a hunch that it was a man, but the buttons on their shirt were done up all the way and the hair flowing down to the person's thighs looked downright pampered.

The voice didn't allude to either sex. It was barely audible to his ears. However, that was perhaps because he was breathing hard and blocking out most other noise, focusing on himself.

His eyes watched the individual with the gun, even though it was being put away in a holster somewhere under the loose fabric of his shirt. Then they walked over to Kidd, who stood there a mere few feet from his bed, red hair disheveled and boxers twisted slightly around prominent hips. They exchanged a few angry words. Law couldn't hear, no matter how he strained himself on the other side of the room.

God, what an awful start to the day. He squeezed his eyes to combat the pain welling up on his left temple. First Marco and now this random crazy person? He really had shit luck.

Kidd suddenly appeared in front of him, pale skin materializing out of nowhere. "Heart? Fuck. Are you alright?"

"I've only been hit by a fucking train. No need to be concerned," Law muttered, holding his head and taking a gander at the hardwood floor. He looked up again to see his scenery had changed. He was staring straight into the bandana of the train that ran him over.

He opened his mouth for profanities when a hand was placed over his, the one that was clutching his freshly reformed bruise. He didn't have a chance to speak. The person beat him to the punch.

"My apologies, Heart. I had no idea you were the one Kidd was obsessing over," the person said. A tenor voice. Could be either male or female.

"I am not obsessing," Eustass Kidd growled.

Law looked up to see lips pulled back into a snarl. Kidd was irritated.

"He is, he just won't admit it yet," the person whispered just loud enough for only Law's ears to hear. He raised his voice to declare, "Again, I apologize for causing you any injuries."

Of all the things Law could have said, what came out of his mouth surprised everyone, including himself.

"I have to get to work. I think I'm going to be late."

Blank stares all around. Well, he imagined sunglasses-person was giving him a blank look. He couldn't tell.

Suddenly, Kidd was laughing. "Fine, fine. But I have to pay you…I know you said you–"

This was getting more and more awkward. He interrupted before this could get out of hand. "I took the money out of your wallet already."

God, he hoped Kidd wouldn't command the masked one among them to put a bullet in his head. Luckily, Kidd merely snickered and waved it off.

"Good. Well. Killer, make sure he gets out of the building okay. Take him straight to the street. Avoid B-1."

"Sure thing, captain." A tiny snicker, just barely audible.

Killer? A freaking unisex name. Yet…

"I thought your shark's name was Killer?" he asked Kidd accusingly. He was just waiting to jump on a lie…any falsehood would do.

"He decided to name his favourite pet after me," the individual informed Law, getting to their feet and briskly returning to the open door, where beyond an elevator door beckoned. "At the time I was unsure if I should be flattered or offended."

"I'd be offended," Law replied with a slight smile. Then he paused and pursed his lips. What? Was he seriously attempting to make friendly conversation with the man that had elbowed him in the face, pointed a gun at him, and generally tried to kill him?

Yes, yes he was.

Kidd helped him to his feet. Somehow, after a few words from some stranger, he found himself in an amiable mood. Amiable enough to allow Eustass to help him to his feet, anyway.

And certainly amiable enough to accept a kiss on the cheek without much fuss.

"Put some ice on that, Heart," Kidd told him, fingering his bruised temple with the lightest of touches. Fresh pain made him wince.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too," Kidd replied, hands falling from Law's body as he withdrew, a playful spark in his eye. He headed for the bathroom, seemingly forcing himself away to keep up some kind of 'appearance'. After he disappeared behind the door Law tensed, finding himself alone with the stranger. A stranger who beckoned to him.

"You coming?"

Law blinked. Hell fucking yes he was coming, if that meant he'd be leaving this crazy place.

Not a minute passed before he found himself in an elevator with a person and their hidden gun. Surprisingly, he wasn't all that worried. They kept to opposite sides of the tiny room, and the numbered buttons that indicated how many floors were accessible were on the side of the man who obviously knew the building. He pressed floor two before stepping back and leaning against a railing.

Fifty floors. A slow moving elevator. With glass walls.

He watched the city outside fly by in glimpses as they moved between floors. There'd be a shaft of light, then a few moments of darkness courtesy of concrete, then the city again.

God, was it ever stunning to see the sun from so high up above the squalor.

"That's one hell of a view," Law said, unable to contain himself as he was awarded yet another glimpse.

"I know, I'm jealous. My apartment's ground level."

"Me too. Sucks," Law replied.

Once again he found himself reevaluating his sanity. Speaking to this person was certainly not what he envisioned himself doing the moment he opened Kidd's door to find the barrel of a semi-automatic pointed at his forehead. Yet, he was alive and well. Better than well actually. Well off. The money in his pocket was swaying his feelings. Making him bold.

There was but one question that was nagging his consciousness. He decided to approach it in a way that would guarantee him an answer.

"So, uh, are you a woman or a man?"

He was not immediately answered.

Unabashed, Law continued, "Because you never can fully tell sometimes. I mean honestly, I could be a woman for all you know. With speed titties."

The masked man slowly turned to face him. The eyebrows that had sat just above the rim of his sunglasses were nowhere in sight. Law guessed they had escaped to some vacation resort farther up his forehead.

"What?"

"Speed titties," Law repeated with the faintest of grins. To get someone talking, using profanity often yielded fantastic results. He had learned this from Ace. "Or maybe the phrase was speed torpedos? Either way, like little nippers, you know? As opposed to voluptuous tatas. Bazookas. Melons, mangos, mammaroonies…"

Sometimes, words just cycled around in his head and spilled out of his mouth, quite by accident. He blamed it on an unhealthy interest in a thesaurus he found when he was a kid.

The person was suddenly laughing and keeling over next to him, grabbing on to the elevator railing that ran the circumference of the glass box to keep from falling over. The loud, much deeper laugh convinced Law that this individual was, indeed, male. He had his suspicions based on body structure, but it was good to hear some laughter to add to his theory.

"My dear friend has many names for women's breasts," Law explained when those shades turned on him. "If I were a women, I'd probably call my tits pontoons, just because they would sound like particularly lethal weapons. For you, I'd choose blouse bunnies. I like your shirt, by the way. It's very bold."

They reached the second floor of the building before the man beside him caught his breath long enough to state, "I'm a man."

"I suspected as much. If you were a gal you probably would have either laughed harder or slugged me again."

"I am truly sorry for that."

Law was drunk on money. Absolutely drunk. Or his brains had been scrambled by that elbow to the face. Because it was just occurring to him that he ought to have asked a more lucrative question. Something like: "Hey, so why did you point that gun at my head when I opened the door?"

"I can't tell you," Killer confessed, sounding almost sad beneath his bandana. They stepped out of the elevator and into a hallway. It had but one door at its end, and through a barred window Law could see cars racing by. "It's very complicated. Think of me as just a…security guy."

"I see. Well. I suppose if I were a millionaire I'd hire a 'security guy' too. I'd probably hire my friend Bepo. He's a big bearish guy, perfect for the job."

"He sounds like a good fit. But hey, just so you know… I was serious when I said Kidd's obsessed with you. Look, I don't really know who you are, but don't get too caught up in his affairs. You'll regret it."

"Sure." He shrugged his shoulders. His head hurt too much for him to give a proper damn.

"Well, I have to go back upstairs. That door takes you right out to the street, but you can only go through it from this side. It's locked otherwise. Be seeing you."

"Bye," Law said, departing.

He didn't care any more. Any and all absurdity was welcome so long as he got to keep his hard earned dough.


Later that day, Law found himself standing in Galdino's Grocery, holding several packages of chicken breasts while Ace stood on cardboard boxes assembled as a makeshift stage.

"When I wag my tail feathers, I bring all the old birds to the yard! And they're like, it's better than yours. Damn right, I feed them my chickenfeed 'til they see stars!" Ace sang, wagging his rear end in the general direction of the crowd of middle-aged women. Most laughed, some downright howled, and many started shaking their own booties to his off-key singing.

"The only old bird you bring to your chicken coup is Marco," Law shouted, but Ace didn't seem to hear him. He continued slaughtering Kelis' Milkshake with his own improvised, food related lyrics. Boy, some days Gladino chose the wrong radio station to broadcast over the store's speakers.

"And someone buy me fried chicken, because I'm hungry!" Ace finished to the last thump of the bass. Despite completely demolishing the song, several smiling women were already sifting through their purses. Ace took one of the smaller cardboard boxes and collected tips with a charming grin.

For once, Law wasn't at all jealous at the willingness of people to fork over their hard earned cash to Ace. His friend was delightfully pathetic.

He continued trying to put away chicken packages. Galdino himself was working the only till in the store today. Occasionally he did that out of pure boredom. Law couldn't say he minded the temporary respite from his duties. He had a lot on his mind.

And a lot more in his pocket.

He hadn't had time to race to Bepo's and change. Instead he'd headed straight to his day job, barely making it there on time for the beginning of his shift.

Today was, ironically, the day he and the two other employees of the surly Mr. 3 got their paychecks. It was nearing four-thirty, and the shop was closing soon. Ace had been given instructions by Galdino himself to try and sell the remaining chicken. They'd be getting a new, freasher shipment tomorrow, apparently.

Thus, the chicken dance.

The packages in Law's hands disappeared as women grabbed them from him. Soon, they were all gone. Finished with their suave work to sell quantity over quality, Ace and Law went toward the front of the store and lounged next to the till.

"Hey Galdinosaur! Did you see that? Sold all the chicken for you. Don't you think that constitutes a raise?"

Galdino punched in a code for a bunch of bananas, bagged them, and then glared at Ace. "Don't liken me to a dinosaur, Ace. I'm not that tyrannical."

"Can I get a raise?"

"No." The man wrinkled his brow as he picked up a package of tampons. Law just knew he was tempted to throw them at Ace's head. But there was a line of last-minute stragglers waiting to pay. He placed the item in a bag and finished the order. Got the money. Abandoned post. "Law, take over the till. Get these lovely ladies through so we can close up shop."

Law was just content to finally have something to do with his hands. Every other moment when they were without a job they'd reach into his sweater pockets and fondle the wad of cash sitting there. He was paranoid that the money would fall out. So much so that he'd found a safety pin and clipped it to the paperclip, then to the inside fabric of his sweater. Yet he still continuously checked it. Just to make sure.

He rang the last few shoppers through in record time and soon the store was devoid of customers. Ace was rolling the steel link curtain that would protect their store from thefts in the night. After all, Mr. 3's measly little store was located in a seedy mall with a couple of other little trinket shops. Anyone could visit.

Galdino signed Tsura's paycheck. She was the one who repackaged the meat in the back room before it was put on shelves. Law rarely saw her. But every time she walked past she would glare at him. This time was no different. She was the first to leave.

"Here, Ace," Mr. 3 said, handing him a slip of paper. "I actually did give you a bit more money. Be grateful for every extra penny, you moron."

"Aw, thank you Galdinosaurus Rex!" Ace gushed, enveloping his boss in a manly hug. The poor older geezer looked positively pained. "I love you, man!"

"Go home, Ace."

"Harsh," Ace quipped, disentangling himself. "Well, see ya later Lawsie, Galdinosaurus Tex-Mex Rex."

"I'm not Texan or Mexican, you moron! And I said to quit likening me to a dinosaur! What, do you have wax in your ears or something?"

"Bye, Ace. See you tonight," Law called as his friend darted over a pileup of shopping carts and headed for the exit. Waving like a lunatic, which had some basis in the truth of Ace's condition.

"Here, take your paper," Galdino growled, shoving a cheque in Law's direction. He took a glance down at it and let his eyebrows sail high.

"It's, uh…"

"You look like shit," Galdino stated, gesturing to Law's entire body; the rumpled clothes, the bruises, the untied sneakers. "I don't know what the hell you do in your off-time, and I don't really fucking want to know, but take the extra money and get something to eat. Maybe some Band-Aids. You're skinny and beat up as hell."

"Thanks, Mr. Wax. I really do appreciate it," Law said, pocketing the cheque before his conscience opened his mouth and told Galdino to take back the extra. Whatever. He'd done his job. If the man wanted to pay him more, he'd let him.

"I hope things start looking up for you. I know it's been years, and you've obviously grown up since then, but I don't think you've changed too much. People still seem to be picking on you."

Trafalgar drew in a shaky breath. Their shared past was rarely ever mentioned. In fact, for the longest time after he'd been hired, he'd thought Galdino didn't even recognize him. He'd been a kid back then…

"So you do care. Well, I love you too, Monsieur Waxy. You were one of the better guys, if memory serves me right."

"Don't kiss my ass," was all Galdino said as he pushed Law from his store and finished the last minute duties belonging to the owner.

Law took off without needing to be told twice, his mind bizarrely blank until he was standing in Bepo's kitchen, getting hugged to death by huge arms around his midsection.

Bepo picked him up off the ground as he hugged him, and Trafalgar wiggled his toes, waiting for the big man to put him down. Finally, it happened, and his butt was placed on the counter. If only so he could see eye to eye with his friend.

"Law! Where have you been? I thought you'd died!"

"Naw, Mr. Death doesn't want lil' ol' me. Now, grab a phone and the phonebook. And my goddamn hat. I'm calling someone to fix the heater in this place."

Bepo blinked at him, mouth wide open. "Oh my God, what happened to your face?"

It occurred to Law that Bepo had not seen his face after he'd been punched by Marco and certainly not after he'd been socked by Killer. "Forget my face. I got an elbow or two there. Stuff happens. Now, get me the book and a phone. I actually have money to pay for this kind of shit…"

Bepo continued to stare at him.

"I know I look bad. You don't have to keep staring at me to make a point out of it."

"No, no, it's not that," Bepo said, moving down the kitchen so he sat at the rickety table in an equally rickety chair. "It's just…we kind of don't have a phone any more and I think Shachi said he either used the phonebook as toilet paper or stuffed it around that leaking pipe behind the sink."

"Well, fuck. I'm gone for one fucking day and night and – did you say we don't have a phone? The phone company actually disconnected us? Fuck, I thought they were bluffing…"

Bepo disappeared into the bathroom and reemerged with a soggy bunch of paper. It was dumped on the counter. "We're in luck; he used the phonebook to stop the leak."

Law gingerly flipped through the sections. Some were missing, and many disintegrated upon even his most delicate touch, but he found the handyman section near the back, where the text and paper wasn't quite as degraded. "You have two quarters for a payphone? I'm going to run down the road and call someone up."

Bepo managed to scrounge up two quarters from a pair of Penguin's overalls and Law took the soggy section he needed with him down to the street corner. He made his call count and phoned up a guy Penguin knew and could vouch for.

When Franky arrived a few hours later, he took one look at their heater and said it would need a "Super repair." The guy bent over in his spandex bottoms and got to work. Despite the lack of clothing on his bottom half, he wasn't showing any signs of freezing. The man was a freaking machine. He finished the heater off in no time and flew through repairs on the sink's pipes.

Law paid him in cash, and Bepo just started at the wad in Law's hands as Franky dashed out the door.

"Here, I have rent and I have food money," Law said, further splitting the pile. "And now I have phone money too, I guess." His pile shrunk even more.

"Hey, hey, keep some of that for yourself," Bepo whined. "Who the hell needs a phone?"

"Uh, you. You need a phone," Law grumbled.

"I have e-mail still. On Shachi's laptop."

"That thing's practically dead. We're getting our phone connection back, thanks." Law pocketed what remained of Eustass fucking Kidd's money and retreated to the bathroom. "I have to take a shower and get ready for tonight. Order pizza or something," he called.

Before he got into the sputtering, cold shower he located a tile behind the toilet that was particularly loose. Hell, most of the grout between the tiles had been worn away, so all of them were loose and cracked. But only one tile came out.

Recently, he'd put a small, black box where he kept his med school stash under that tile, in a hollow he'd picked away at between some rotted floorboards. He stuck his money in the box with the other neatly folded bills and closed it up securely.

His paranoia melted away as he stood under the showerhead.


He cashed Galdino's check before he caught the bus downtown. Before leaving the bank he'd calculated out the slimmest amount that he'd need to fork over to Doflamingo to keep suspicion off of him, and stashed the rest in his shoe.

When he arrived he bypassed Thatch in favour of getting the most disgusting part of the evening out of the way.

He knocked on Doflamingo's office door.

"Come in."

Law entered, taking in the new surroundings. Tonight it was Hollywood's red carpet, and the walls had been painted black with yellow camera flashes on them to suggest a frenzied paparazzi. He walked the red carpet up to Doflamingo's desk.

"Well, well, if it isn't The Runaway. Mr. Trafalgar, sit your ass down."

Law sat on the leather chair, the only thing besides Doflamingo's desk that rarely changed. So, he knew Law had taken off.

"I need compensation for all of those men who were willing to fork over their money for one of your private dances. Funny, but they didn't want to settle for Ace. They wanted the scrawny bitch they saw dancing on the stage."

Memories plagued Law and he forced the Dalmatian spots from his mind's eye. "One of my clients wanted something a little…extra last night. I have the money, of course." He pulled out the money from Galdino, a measly wad of bills. He counted it bill by bill onto the table, arriving at an amount that did not impress. "You get your thirty percent cut for compensation. Isn't that the rules?"

Doflamingo snickered. "Oh, you're late getting that to me, Law. I'll take fifty."

"Thirty-five."

"Fifty."

"Forty."

"Forty-five. Since that's a pathetic amount right there." Doflamingo leaned back in his chair as Law separated the money and slapped forty-five percent of it in front of the fiend's nose. "Is that really forty-five? That's a slim stack. Not that it matters, considering the other stack belongs to me as well. Or did you forget?"

Shit. He hadn't forgotten. He had just been hoping Doflomingo had. No. Doflamingo was simply playing around with him.

He tossed the money across the table. "That's all I have. I got duped," Law growled, trying to make himself appear entirely pissed off. It was not hard to playact in the presence of this man. He was always pissed to have to hand any amount of money over. This month working for nothing was going to give him anger lines. "The guy I went with looked rich, but he had next to nothing."

Doflamingo stared at him through his shades, then finally took the glasses off and set them on the desk so Law could get a good look at his creepy eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe a scheming shit like you? I know for a fact you're not stupid enough for that excuse." The man got up on his desk in a crouch, leaned over, and clamped a hand down on Law's shoulder to prevent him from standing. He leaned down, grinning, to address Law with the sweetest malice.

"Law, honey, you're bouncing around too much. I don't like letting my exotic dancers out of my sight. From now on, you see me when you want to leave. I have made amends to my staff. The other bouncers were fired. Now I have guards. They'll keep you in, and they'll also keep whatever money you earn in here as well."

He drew back. "I'm not stupid, Law. These twenties are too crisp to have come out of those cute boxer-briefs of yours."

"You never know what kind of paper you're going to get when–"

"It was a metaphor for your lies. I know you're cheating me in some way. I will know everything, eventually." Doflamingo let him up by removing his hand, then dropped to the floor below before straightening.

Law was already at the door by the time Doflamingo's hands were back on his shoulders. Law stiffened as he was stopped in mid motion.

"I know who you've been disappearing with, Law. It's Eustass Kidd, isn't it?"


A.N.: Trust me, the cliffhanger isn't as bad as you think.

Anyways, I'm EXTREMELY stressed at the moment as too many life-altering things are happening all at once, so this story's taking a break for a while. Not sure how long. Two weeks at the very least. Sorry guys! I think you all already knew anyway, since I can hardly keep up with review replies anymore :P I love reading them though, they are really motivating…