AN: In which things get serious...if you know what I mean, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Though nothing explicit – rated T, as you know.


Chapter IX

The bathroom floor was cold.

It had always been like this – a great source of annoyance in her younger years, and whenever she'd taken a bath, she'd pile towels on the freezing tiles just so she could get across without actually having to step on them with her bare feet. Emiko had rolled her eyes more than once at her behaviour, but had always let her do as she pleased.

Strange that the old memory should resurface now, when she had far more pressing matters competing for her attention.

Curling her toes, Makino pulled her legs to her chest, burying her face in her knees with a pitiful groan. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd been this embarrassed, and that included the one time in her youth when her skirt had gotten caught in the door of the local grocery store and ripped, right in front of the entire village. She'd been embarrassed then, oh yes – so much so that she was pretty sure she'd burst into tears on the spot. But even though it was enough to make her wince at the mere thought, it didn't come close to the mortification she was feeling now. Because back then, it had been just a few moments of embarrassment, but it had passed rather quickly. It was a trivial occurrence, and the following day hardly anyone spoke about it, and some had even forgotten it had happened at all.

Makino wasn't sure this would pass quite as quickly, although there'd been only two people involved, and not the whole village.

Warm hands slid down her neck, her shoulders...calloused palms catching on her skin, pulling a moan from deep in her chest. Her own hands were far less successful, clumsy and shaking in their hesitant exploration of the broad expanse of skin and crisp white fabric. She shivered, fingers clenching together in a desperate attempt to stifle her nervousness, the feeling pushing itself upwards, to lodge itself at the base of her throat

She knew she'd been more than a little inebriated last night – the throbbing between her eyes that had greeted her with the sun was testament enough to that – and she probably should have known better, all the speeches from her late caretaker taken into consideration. Don't drink with the customers – smile and laugh and play along, but don't share drinks with the customers. That kind of behaviour would only lead to trouble, and she'd known – oh she'd known, and still she'd broken the cardinal rule without so much as a backwards glance.

But the mood had been good, the common room bustling with laughter and off-key tavern songs, lewd lyrics rising above the din in drunken tunes, and she'd been well on her way to being charmed out of her socks by the handsome redhead that had sauntered into her tavern and her life and turned the latter completely on its head. She honestly couldn't remember when she'd taken that first sip, but what she could remember were the effects and the repercussions. Head swimming and her cheeks flushed red – partly from the liquor, and partly from the entirely inappropriate yet dangerously flattering comments that so smoothly rolled off his tongue. And she ought to know better, but unfortunately, the sensible part of her that usually reared its ugly head and made most of her decisions was silenced sometime after her third glass – Makino distinctly remembered the sensation of being unable to feel her own tongue – and along with her common sense, her better judgement and propriety had apparently seen fit to take their leave of her as well.

And any inhibitions you might have had, too, she reminded herself with a soft whine, clenching her eyes tighter to block out the memories. She couldn't remember which of them had made the first move. Not that it really mattered, but she feared it might have been her. And she didn't really want to think about the words that had tumbled off her tongue prior to her inappropriate actions, which in turn had ended in a tangled mess of limbs and hungry kisses in her apartments above the tavern. Gods, but she couldn't even remember how they'd made it up the stairs.

Warm hands wrapped around the wrists of her trembling ones, thumbs sketching over the sensitive skin just above her pulse. Her heart was threatening to break through her ribcage, and she clenched her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from escaping. She was so nervous.

Lips brushed her jawline, then her neck right below her ear, and her knees just about fell out from beneath her. Braced against his chest, she tried to still her breathing, her thundering heartbeat; tried to stop sounding like she was about to pass out...even though it felt as though she was about to do just that.

"Makino."

And it was in the midst of those hungry, searching kisses and caresses in that she'd found herself wondering if the look he'd given her – that dark, earnest gaze that both frightened and excited her, and that made it look as though he'd never seen someone quite like her – had been given to many, many foolish girls before her.

The thought hadn't sat well with her at the time, and despite her inebriation, she'd hesitated more than once – something that hadn't gone entirely unnoticed.

"You're shaking."

"I'm fine. Really, I'm just" She looked down, resting her forehead against his chest. Her breathing was ragged, and the knot in her stomach had coiled so tightly she thought she might throw up. The nervousness wouldn't go away, and paired with the uncertainty that had plagued her since she'd met him, the combination was more than she could bear. Anything and everything she'd ever read about a moment like this had fled her mind the moment he'd slid his hands beneath her shirt, officially overstepping whatever line had been drawn between them since their tentative beginning, and she'd no idea how to proceed.

Clenching her eyes even tighter, Makino rubbed at her temples, cheeks burning at the memory of how her hands had fumbled; of the tears that had without her permission slipped from her eyes. He'd noticed – it had been impossible not to with how close he'd been standing, his arms wrapped around her like they belonged, except she couldn't quite make herself believe it. And she hadn't been able to bear the look in his eyes – the flash of concern that he'd stepped too far, darkening with regret. And he hadn't overstepped – she'd been the one to initiate, after all. And she'd wanted it, had wanted him, it was just–

She'd been so scared she couldn't breathe; so scared she couldn't focus past her shaking hands, and the terror that had seized her, that it was too fast – that she was tossing herself into unknown depths without checking to see if she knew how to swim.

But that hadn't been the worst part. The worst, most embarrassing part by far was having him pull away.

The thumbs that had been caressing her wrists were suddenly on her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn't been able to hold back. Embarrassment flared within her, and she ducked her head, fitfully attempting to hide herself. A hand grasped her chin then, tilting her head so she would look at him, and she felt fresh tears press against her eyes.

She hadn't expected the kiss to her temple, or the softly voiced apology ghosting her ear, but it happened, and then he was pulling away, a rueful smile on his scarred face, and before she could process what had transpired, the door to her bedroom was clicking shut behind him, his soft footfalls echoing down the hall. The familiarity of it all slammed into her like a tidal wave, and she staggered slightly, tears blurring her vision as the words echoed in her head

'Take care.'

She sank to her knees only when the sound of the bat-wing doors swinging alerted her of the finality of his departure.

The tiles were cold. The thought struck her again, and she wiggled her toes. A hundred emotions warring within her, she felt a right mess – a mess who couldn't even decide what she regretted most; fuelling the fire between them, or dousing it with water when it got too hot.

Rubbing at her eyes, Makino swore under her breath. Stupid, stupid letting yourself be charmed, and then pulling away when it gets too serious. So he has experience! You can't change the fact that you don't unless you do something about it.

Lower lip tucked firmly between her teeth, she considered her own thoughts. It did bother her, the fact that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and then doing so without much effort, when all she could manage was to hesitate when she should be eagerly accepting his attentions. And she wanted to accept them – she knew she did. There was no denying, nor ignoring for that matter, the shiver of anticipation at the thought of his hands on her–

Sighing, she rested her chin on her knees. She was a fool – a fool who knew what she wanted but was too much of a coward to make a grab for it.

I wonder what he's thinking, she thought, a frown pulling her brows together as she chewed absently on her bottom lip. She shook her head again – she didn't need to ask herself to know the answer. If all her other actions hadn't already convinced him of her inexperience, then this had to have spelled it out rather plainly. And despite his assurances, Makino doubted Shanks had any patience left to deal with her after this. She couldn't phantom why he would stick around after her embarrassing display the night before. Who in their right mind would want such a conflicted, woefully insecure woman when there were probably a dozen more confident ones just waiting at the next port? Why–

A soft rap on the door to the bathroom had her nearly jumping out of her skin, and her heart just about stopped dead in her chest as her reeling mind considered the possibilities, before stuttering into a normal pace again as the most obvious of the lot presented itself. Probably just Suzume-san come to check up on me. I should have been downstairs hours ago, and she

"I sure hope you haven't gone off and died in there."

She blinked, the words and the voice registering in her ears. The warmly amused baritone was a far cry from Suzume's harsh trill, and her mouth parted in surprise as realization hit her.

"You know, speaking up to prove my statement wrong might placate my mind a little. Or do I have to break down the door to make sure you're alright? It would be fantastically heroic and undoubtedly very impressive on my part, but I doubt you'll appreciate having to replace it afterwards," Shanks continued, still amused, and despite the embarrassment she was feeling, Makino couldn't stop her smile from curving at his obvious attempt at brightening her mood.

"No heroic gesture necessary, Captain," she spoke up finally, stubbornly keeping her voice from trembling. She refused to let her embarrassment defeat her, and what's more, she refused to allow him to hear just how affected she still was from last night's events.

There was a smile in his voice when he spoke, "Good. I was having doubts there for a moment, especially when I came in and there was no sign of neither you nor the mop you're usually wiping the floor with at this hour."

Again, her smile was quite despite herself. It was apparent Suzume wasn't the only one who'd picked up on her habits and routines.

Heaving a small sigh, she chewed on her lip, pondering the wisdom of inviting him in, or sending him off. One look at her naked legs, and the too-short shirt she'd pulled on had her immediately deciding against the first, although her traitorous mind had already taken that possibility into consideration, and was creating very graphic images of what could transpire if she did, no doubt fuelled by the thoughts she'd been having only moments before, of the light pressure of his mouth against that spot on her neck she hadn't known was so sensitive–

"Makino?"

Shaking her head in a vain attempt to clear it, she addressed the man behind the door, "I'm not entirely decent at the moment, and my clothes are in my room, so if you wouldn't mind–"

The abrupt click of the doorknob followed by the door itself swinging open had her eyes widening, and a squeak of surprise hitched in her throat as she fumbled to cover herself with – nothing, because the nearest towel was slung across the bathtub on the other end of the room from her. And driven by embarrassed anger, she was about to snap at him – to demand just what the hell he thought he was doing, when she was startled further by something flying at her from the open doorway, smacking against her and turning her world completely dark for a moment.

Fumbling with the familiar fabric, she pulled it off her head, ruffling her already sleep-mussed hair. Her eyes blinked in surprise as she took in the cloak now in her hands, the excess fabric pooling over her lower body and onto the tiled floor, successfully hiding her naked legs, before lifting to the man leaning against the door-frame. There was a smile on his face as he took her in, sitting against the wall opposite, half-drowned in the dark fabric he usually wore around his shoulders, her small toes sticking out from where the hem grazed the floor. Her mouth kept working, attempting to form words, and her struggles only served to make his grin widen.

"Don't look so scandalized. You're very decent now."

Her cheeks flared with heat, but from continued embarrassment or frustration, it was hard to tell. Likely just the former. "Amused, are you?"

"Tremendously," came his easy reply, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with said amusement. Makino huffed, hands arranging the fabric around her to make sure she was covered completely, and tangling them in the dark material to keep them from going to her hair in a feeble attempt at straightening her bed-head. This is so not the time for vanity!

"What are you doing here?" The question was voiced warily, as she fought to keep her cool – an act further complicated by the eyes regarding her from the open doorway. It was hard concentrating on anything under that gaze, especially considering her half-dressed, unkempt state.

Shanks cocked his head, eyes twinkling. "Would you believe me if I said I needed to use the bathroom?"

The look on her face told him just what she thought about his attempted joke, and so he straightened, his expression losing some of its humour. "I was looking for you, unsurprisingly. I was worried about the other night, and when I couldn't find you, I could only assume my concerns were valid."

Makino looked away, caught off guard by the blunt remark, and unable to ignore the way her heart had leapt at his obvious concern for her. That, paired with the earnest weight of his gaze still on her, made it very difficult to keep sitting still. "I'm fine."

"Hmm, yes. That's why you've stationed yourself in the bathroom in the middle of the afternoon?"

Her eyes snapped to his, her glare suddenly piercing. "I happen to like the bathroom. It's a good place to think."

"...it's freezing."

She ignored him. "You've found me, and I'm fine. Now can you please go? I'm not getting up until you leave."

He arched a brow at that, and completely ignoring her request, stepped fully inside and closed the door behind him. And before she could muster up the voice to protest, he'd slid down to sit against the door. A grimace pulled at his features as he settled onto the cold tiles.

"Captain-"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "Me first." Makino gaped, and was about to speak again when he beat her to it, "When I left last night, I almost went back twice. No – three times. The first was when I'd taken two steps out of the bar, and the second when I'd gotten back to the ship. And the third was once I'd gotten on the ship, and Ben gave me a look that asked me what the hell I was doing there. And I really don't think he bought whatever excuse I gave him at the time, but the point is, I can't honestly say walking out like that was the most brilliant thing I've ever done. However, I can't be entirely sure until I hear it from you."

He paused, eyes locking onto hers, and Makino found she couldn't have looked away if she'd wanted to. "And so I ask you. Should I have come back?"

Makino was silent as she stared at him from across the small space, stunned speechless by his admission. She'd considered chasing after him herself, but she hadn't considered the thought that the feeling had been in any way mutual. There'd just been something so terribly final about his departure, as though it had sealed something between them. Ended something. It had been horrible, and his words now about his own conflicting feelings had hope soaring within her, pushing against her ribcage and slowly unfurling the tightly wound knot in her stomach.

She opened her mouth to speak, and closed it. Her eyes slipped shut as well as a smile pulled on her lips, and her shoulders shook as the hilarity of the situation finally came to settle. Two grown people, a pirate captain and a barmaid, sitting on the floor of a bathroom discussing their insecurities. It looked like she wasn't the only fool in this mess they'd somehow gotten themselves into.

"I wanted to run after you, if that's any indication of what I think," she said at length, raising her eyes to his. Shanks looked surprised, before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Makino heaved a sigh. "I let my insecurities get the better of me. Insecurities you'd tried to placate only yesterday, I know, and I..." she trailed off, and for all that it had been the only thing on her mind all day, she didn't know where to begin to describe what she was feeling.

"If it's any consolation," Shanks began then, breaking the silence that had settled at the heels of her words. "I had no idea what I was doing, either."

Makino blinked. "But you–"

His smile was wry. "It's one thing when it's a face with no name. But with you..." He shrugged. She blushed again, mind revisiting the memories of his touch, and the smiling kisses against her jawline. And she didn't need to look at him to know just what kind of smirk had settled on his lips – she knew it well enough to recreate it in her mind, half-wicked and staggeringly fond.

"My, what thoughts are we having now, Miss Makino? Pleasant ones, I hope?"

She glared at him, although the blush didn't lessen. "This is your fault, you know," she said, hands gripping the material of his cloak. "I didn't consider these things before you showed up. I was a very proper tavern wench. No – no distracting thoughts to keep me from my work." And to keep me barricaded in the bathroom in the middle of the afternoon, questioning everything I know.

The grin on his face was decidedly boyish, and she couldn't quite hold back her own, turning her eyes to her bare toes, before tucking them beneath the cloak's hem. Silence pooled between them, and for a moment neither of them spoke.

"It's your move," Shanks said then, pulling her eyes back to his. Makino blinked, brows dipping slightly as his words failed to register. He smiled. "Your insecurities, although unnecessary, are strangely endearing, but I won't overstep any boundaries between us." Then, eyes twinkling, "Unless, of course, you want me to do so," he added, and there was a distinct deepening of his voice at that last part, sending a spark leaping up her spine.

But, "It's your choice, my dear, and you choose the pace," he said then, and there was nothing playful about that remark, just a stark sort of honesty that made her breath catch. "Know that, if anything."

She resisted the urge to chew on her bottom lip, feeling a tumble of emotions colliding within her. It should have been simple – she would choose if she was ready; would choose when she was ready. He'd left it up to her.

Why then, did that not placate her mind?

"Does it sound silly if I say that I don't exactly know what I want?" she asked then, softly. His smile held the warmth she'd begun to associate with him, and his eyes had that mischievous gleam that told her he was more than willing to help her figure out just what it was she wanted. She felt a blush spread all the way down her neck to her collarbones, and had to fight to keep from averting her eyes. What was it about this man that never failed to reduce her to a stuttering mess?

She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips, noting briefly how the bathroom didn't feel quite so cold anymore, and that any lingering embarrassment or fear of rejection that had plagued her thoughts only moments before were now only ghosts at the very back of her mind. Gripping the fabric pooling around her, Makino rose to her feet, tucking it securely around her hips. Looking down at herself, she couldn't help the snort from escaping.

"I look ridiculous."

His laughter seemed to bounce off the walls as he rose to stand before her. "Well, it's a cloak, not a skirt, but I can't say ridiculous is the first word that springs to mind." His fingers brushed the tips of her hair, loose from it's usual scarf, and he tucked it gently behind her ear. There was that deepening of his voice again, and the implications had her heart thundering against her ribs. The air seemed to thicken around them as they stood there, gazes locked, and she could feel a string of emotions war within her – the urge to throw herself at him where he stood held back by that familiar twinge of uncertainty. The giddy happiness his mere presence evoked barely restrained by the cooler, sensible part of her that told her to slow down before the boundaries he'd spoken of vanished completely, and his words spurred her into doing something she wasn't sure she was ready for.

He stepped away then, breaking whatever spell had settled over her, and holding the door to the hallway open. Makino padded outside on bare feet, the cloak still clutched around her lower body, intent on finding real clothes to cover herself before she gave into her urges and dropped the material completely, even if it was just to gauge his reaction.

The thought had her blushing even more, and mentally shaking her head at her own contrariness. Emiko had always said her curiosity would get her into trouble one day, and there was no denying the truth in those words.

Not yet, though, she thought as she watched him disappear downstairs, a promise of locating some food in her larder drifting back to her as she heard him descend the steps. She took a deep breath, redirecting her mind from the thought of those broad shoulders now that they weren't covered by the cloak she had wrapped around her middle.

No. Not yet, but something told her it wouldn't be long before her curiosity paired up with her desire and launched her bodily into action. First things first though – there were questions she needed answered.

And she knew just the person to ask.


AN: Thank heavens it's not Garp.