Epilogue Part II: Transmissions

Law idled about the limited deck of the Wingwoman, taking in the details of the ship while Bepo sniffed around. The rest of the crew had returned to the streets of Sinomet at Spade's request ("Could you at least pretend you don't want to be noticed by strangers?"). Law and Bepo invited themselves aboard the Wingwoman as Spade checked to ensure that her own crew members were unharmed; she did not trust Law's reassurances that the Wano samurai would suffer no long-lasting consequences.

"What do you think?" Law asked Bepo as he ran his hand along the gilded wood of the steering wheel.

"It's a nice ship," answered Bepo. "At first glance, you'd almost think it's a merchant ship since it looks so basic. But the wood is a really nice cedar and it's coated generously with top-quality Kairouseki. It's small and lightweight. They've prioritized speed over everything else."

"No room for cannons," the captain observed.

"Probably don't need 'em."

"No," agreed Law, "likely not. This isn't a combat ship because they're not a combat crew. It's better that they blend in with merchants. It's a practical ship."

"Plus it smells nice." Bepo was staring very pointedly at the rabbit Mink, who was conversing seriously with Spade as the pink-haired vice commander listened. Even from a human's perspective, the rabbit Mink was quite pretty, with a pointed brown nose and beautiful white ears that twitched with the slightest sound. Law was certain she could hear his conversation despite being so absorbed with her own. The rest of her body was fairly humanoid, interspersed with patches of fur and a fluffy white tail. Her large, onyx eyes were slightly wide-spaced, the way rabbits' eyes typically were, and she sported a scar over her left cheek that barely missed her left eye.

"Don't be so obvious, Bepo," Law quipped.

"W-What?"

Law did not have a chance to tease his navigator any further. Spade walked over to them, flanked by her crewmates, her expression somewhat resigned. Law tried not to be insulted, though he had expected a much warmer reaction from her.

"Sorry for the wait," she said. "Sophie's been running a fever and the twins are making sure she's eaten enough before going to sleep."

"No worries!" Bepo said eagerly. "Can I hug you now?"

Spade blinked several times, as if unsure if she'd heard correctly, but Bepo was difficult to turn down. She smiled and nodded, stretching out her arms and welcoming Bepo into a tight embrace.

"It's been so long!" the polar bear crowed. "We haven't seen you since Wano! And you never call! I missed you!"

"Missed you too," she said, patting Bepo awkwardly on the back.

He let her go and looked at her crewmates, averting full eye contact with the rabbit Mink when he glanced her way.

"Are you going to introduce us? What've you been up to? Your hair's grown out, it looks nice! Have you been busy? How's Marco? You smell different than you used to, like—"

"Breathe, Bepo," Law interrupted.

"Sorry…"

Law took his time drinking in the sight of Spade. She was wrapped in a tan cloak that hid her outfit from sight, though he was certain she was wearing the same uniform of a white tank top and jean shorts from two years ago. He had always liked Spade's long hair, draped familiarly over her shoulder in a loose braid, and that crease between her eyebrows had deepened since they'd parted. She looked sunkissed and robust, a vast improvement since the last time he'd seen her when she'd been emaciated from her imprisonment. Otherwise, not much had changed. Her eyes were still shrewd, absorbing all movements around them, but they met his and softened imperceptibly before looking elsewhere. Nonetheless, she frowned at him.

"Why do you look so unhappy to see me?" he smirked.

"You just tried to literally mutilate a child, Law. You can't expect me to be proud of you."

Law rolled his eyes. "You know how my powers work—it wouldn't have hurt."

"That barely matters."

"Of course it does, do you think I'd inhumanely chopped a child's limbs off, blood and pain and all?"

"Not sure, I wouldn't put it past you—"

The pink-haired vice commander cleared her throat, cutting Spade off.

"Introductions?" she said lightly.

"Fine," Spade said, peeved. "This man who nearly killed you is Trafalgar D. Water Law, Captain of the Hearts Pirates, and this is his navigator, Bepo."

"Nice to meet you!" Bepo said enthusiastically.

"This is my vice commander," Spade gestured to the woman next to her, "Jewelry Beret."

"Oh?" Law said. "Related to Miss Bonney?"

"She's my old sis," said Beret dispassionately. "Can't stand her."

"This is Poppy, my navigator." The rabbit Mink waved. "As you guys know, she's also an Intel Broker who goes by the name Panda. I trust you can keep that information to yourself."

"For a price, certainly," Law said, his voice pleasant.

"Of course," Spade muttered.

"Who else is onboard?"

"You met the twins," she replied. "Nobu and Tanaka, both were samurai-in-training back at Wano, but got kicked out before they could receive their certification."

"Because…?"

"Because they're gay as fuck," chirped Poppy, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Wano's still super behind on the times, bro."

"Thank you for outing us, Poppy," Nobu said dryly as he approached them.

"Please, it's not like either of you hide it," she returned.

Tanaka and Nobu both nodded at the Hearts. "Apologies for the confusion earlier. Commander has briefed us about your past alliance with Marco the Phoenix, and we apologize for the aggression committed against your chef."

"Same," Beret muttered.

"We hope that this will not incite any retaliation of war on your part," said Tanaka.

"We'll see," Law said cryptically, gaze never leaving Spade's. "Depends if your commander will have dinner with me tonight."

Spade ignored Law's suggestion completely. He got the feeling that she was having difficulty meeting his eyes fully—she stared instead determinedly at his nose. "There are two others, Nan and Dan. Those aren't their real names, but they're Sophie's grandparents and that's what she calls them, so that's what they go by. Nan's our chef, Dan's our doc. They're both ex-Marines. That's it."

"Is it?"

"Yes," said Spade, tone steely. "That's it."

"I see. So if I were to toss Miss Sophie into the ocean, I wouldn't find that she sinks like a stone because she's eaten the Gura Gura no Mi?"

Spade finally met his eyes. "No, you dick, she'd sink because she's a child with a fever, and adults shouldn't joke about throwing children into the ocean to drown."

"I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot, Miss Spade."

"I've already introduced you to my crew. I don't owe you any additional information. You threatened my crew and mutilated two of my men—I don't hear you offering me an apology."

"Fine, sorry about that," Law said dismissively. "I'd like to have dinner with you tonight."

"I am undercover, Law. I'm not going to waltz into public with one of the most high-profile and notorious pirates around and have dinner. I've actually got shit to do."

Law felt the barest stirs of irritation; he must've imagined seeing Spade again a million times in his head, and while no envisioned scenario involved Spade jumping into his arms at first sight, they all ended with some variation of him bending her over a surface and fucking her into oblivion. The resistance was annoying.

"Leave us, the rest of you," he said coldly.

"Aye-aye," said Bepo, and he left promptly, but not before waving shyly at Poppy.

The Phoenixes didn't move, but glanced at Spade for orders. Law arched an eyebrow at her, and after a brief minute of unspoken communication, Spade sighed.

"Give us a moment, guys."

"Call if you need anything," said Beret.

Law waited for the rest to disappear from sight before turning his attention to Spade fully.

"You don't need to be so belligerent," he said coolly.

"Then stop being such a dick," she said calmly. "I'm the fucking commander of the Phoenix Second Division—you do not get to order me around."

Law paused, reflecting on their interactions thus far.

"You're right," he said, his final judgment deeming that he had indeed been pushier than necessary. "I apologize."

Spade's lips quirked. "Thanks."

"I just didn't expect you to be so standoffish. I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, but you called me fairly recently. I suppose I wanted a kinder reaction, since we've been…more than friendly with each other."

"Law, before you keep talking about things you really should keep to yourself, I should warn you that Poppy has really insane hearing."

"What do you mean?" he said slyly. "Don't all friends get each other off over Mushi calls?"

"God, I fucking hate you," she hissed. "You know that's not why I call—"

"I know, but I appreciate the direction of where the calls tend to turn."

"Just stop," she groaned. "Why are you traipsing around in Fiora without even bothering to hide? How do you have translated versions of the Wano scrolls?"

"Why are you in Fiora?" Law returned. "How do you have a copy of the Oharan Poneglyph? Who is Miss Sophie, and why does she have the power of the Gura Gura no Mi? All these are wonderful discussions we could have over an enjoyable dinner with fine wine, Miss Spade, followed by me doing all the things I told you I'd do to you in our last call, if you so desire."

"Fuck you."

Law grinned and leaned down close to Spade's ear.

"Believe me, Spade. Tonight, you will."


The first time Spade called Law after they'd parted ways was a mere two weeks since the Hearts left Wano. It was random, in the middle of the night, and it was to the personal Den-Den Mushi that Law kept at his bedside. It rang, and the Mushi announced an unknown caller ID, but Law knew who it was before he even picked up.

Hey, hey, how are you, fine.

Oh, it's late where you are. Sorry about that.

It's fine, I don't sleep much anyway. Is something wrong.

She paused for a long time, but Law could hear her breaths shake and could imagine her alone in a room, curled under blankets and palms fisted in sheets, and he knew what was wrong.

It'll take time for them to stop.

I know.

They're not real.

I know.

I still have them too.

She hadn't expected that confession, because Law hadn't expected to give it. But it was true—the flashbacks happened at the most unpredictable times, triggered by the oddest things: a certain lurch in the submarine reminded him of how it'd felt being tossed about in that cell; the right metallic clank could send him back thinking he was in handcuffs; sometimes Law would look around his operating room in the dead hours of the night and he'd see Uni standing in front of him, splattered in blood, asking why Law hadn't saved him.

He still had them too, and the advice he gave to Spade was the advice he gave to himself. Empty reassurance, grounded on nothing but hope.

Maybe I should've left with you.

And Law didn't know what to say to that, because the only thing at the tip of his tongue was, Maybe you should have.


Spade sat on her bed, relaxing in the brief moment of quiet in her quarters aboard the Wingwoman. She wanted desperately to nap, but nearly having her crew killed by Law suggested that napping was probably not a great idea at the moment. Part of her wanted to tell off Beret more for being so incredibly stupid as to kidnap a Hearts Pirate without a back-up plan, but she could tell Beret was fully regretful of this mistake already. Spade did not think berating her further would accomplish anything more. It was by pure luck that Spade had arrived in the nick of time, though from what Poppy had told her, Law had already figured out who they were and wouldn't have killed them. So perhaps it was less luck, and more Law being the genius he was.

That made Spade feel worse than having to attribute everything to luck.

She emptied her travel bags and began to unpack. The Wingwoman was the fastest vessel she'd ever traveled on, with the trade-off being space. Even as the commander, Spade's sleeping quarters were majority occupied by her twin-sized bed. A cedar dresser was built into the wall, while a heftier desk made of oak was affixed to the floor near the entrance. A small bookcase was built on top of the desk and was crammed to the brim with atlases, history texts, and binders of translation work. Spade sat at her desk and pulled open the drawer, containing a mess of scrap paper and old transmissions. She ran her hand along the left wall of the drawer and found a minute dip where the wall met the roof. She dug her nail into it and pulled lightly; the false wall fell away, and Spade withdrew a thin, worn gray binder from the hidden compartment. She flipped it open and delicately turned the pages, all covered in Poneglyphic symbols with handwritten notes in the margins, while comparing them to a sheaf of paper that she'd brought from her travel bag. She traced over the symbols carefully, brow furrowed.

Someone knocked at her door, and Spade closed her drawer immediately.

"Commander?" Poppy's voice came uncertainly. "You wanted to talk?"

Spade relaxed and took out the binder, but replaced the drawer to its closed position before saying,

"Yeah, come in."

Poppy walked in, her eyes wide and anxious.

"I'm sorry about what happened. Beret shouldn't have—"

"Beret wasn't the only one who fucked up," Spade said sharply. "You arranged for a meeting with Snow Leopard the day you arrived? In-person Broker exchanges always need to take place days after you've scouted out the area. Law suspected the Wingwoman immediately because you were the newest ship at the docks before his own man went missing; you might as well have put a giant sign on our ship saying 'We suck at kidnapping, come find us!'"

Poppy's ears drooped as she bowed her head. "I'm so sorry!"

"Plus, Snow Leopard's information wasn't even the priority of coming to Fiora," said Spade relentlessly. "I told you to prioritize infiltrating the Fioran palace, not make contact with Snow Leopard, but I'm sure you ditched that order because you were more interested in Law's Poneglyph information than whatever was in the Fioran basement."

"Yes, you're right—I'm so sorry…"

Spade gave an aggravated sigh. "Poppy, I know you have your own interests but when I give you orders, I need you to follow them even if I'm not here. Beret is in charge of running this ship and enforcing safety procedures when I'm gone, but you're in charge of Intel, which is this division's whole purpose. When I tell you something's important, it's not to give you meaningless chores. Whatever the Fioran palace is hiding is infinitely more useful than anything Law could give us."

"It won't happen again," said the Mink resolutely. "I will make up for this mistake by being on bathroom duty for the next month—"

Spade waved her hand, cutting her off. "I'm not that cruel. With your nose, bathroom duty for a week is enough of a punishment. Just don't fuck up like that again."

"Yes, Commander!"

"Good. Now, business." She handed Poppy the binder and the newest Poneglyphic transcription.

The rabbit Mink's eyes almost glowed gold. "New material?!"

"What'd you think I was gone for a month for?" Spade said wryly. "This is fresh out of Mariejois, Poppers."

"Mariejois?!" she squealed. "Oh my God, what is it what is it whatisit—"

"Aokiji and I think it's the final piece to the weapons compilation."

Poppy nodded as she studied the sheet. "Holy shit…this is real! So if we can decipher this, we can use whatever weapon the World Government has—"

Spade held up her hand to stop her. "We don't know. It could just be instructions on how to operate it, which doesn't help us locate the damn thing."

"Right, right. So same procedure? Do what I can, and if I really can't figure it out…"

"I really don't want to ask Robin," sighed Spade. "The race to the One Piece is getting too close now, and Marco doesn't want to back anyone in particular."

"But she can help us," argued Poppy. "This isn't us backing someone for no reason; Robin can give us what we want, and if this compilation gives us the means to somehow overthrow the World Government, then who the fuck cares if Strawhat Luffy becomes Pirate King?"

"I know." Spade rubbed her temples. "I just…just do what you can first, okay? I looked it over and picked out what words I do know. Do what you can and then we'll decide if we should ask Robin."

Poppy looked at Spade with a strange, knowing expression on her face. Out of the crew, Poppy had travelled with Spade the longest, and though Spade's vice commander was Beret, she and Poppy spent so much time together doing Intel work that it was likely that Poppy actually knew Spade best. She could tell Poppy wanted to say something but didn't know if she had the right to.

"Out with it, Poppy."

"Sorry, I may be out on a limb here especially since I just found out about you guys…but is it because of Trafalgar Law?"

"Sort of," admitted Spade. "But not entirely for the reason you think."

Poppy opened her mouth to probe further, but Spade decided she didn't want to explain herself.

"I'll tell you about it when you finish the translations, Poppers," she said.

Poppy nodded. "Okay. I'll get started. And, um…we just all wanted to say. We think you should go to dinner with him tonight."

"What?"

"Beret and I." Poppy inched toward the door as Spade's expression clouded. "The twins too! We, um, think it would be good."

"Poppy, if you have time gossiping about my love life, I'll do these translations myself."

She opened the door and dashed out so fast she left a trail of dust bunnies in her wake. "Love you too, commander!"


It was always Spade who called Law, never the other way around. She wasn't sure if Law would call her, if given the opportunity, but she didn't dwell on useless possibilities because she ensured they never happened. She only called him on Burner Mushi, unpredictably, and only when she really needed him. Like Law promised, the intervals between flashbacks lengthened, and with it, so did the times Spade called. She could never articulate exactly what was appropriate—she didn't want to use him as an emotional crutch, but that was what Law ended up becoming for her, and she felt guilty about it. So when she could wean herself off, she did, to the point where she could go weeks without thinking about him. Still, even when she was well, she realized that she always missed him, almost in the same way she missed Ace, except she could never pick up a Mushi and call Ace, so it felt silly to enforce that same restriction on herself when Law was well and alive. But she did it all the same.

Spade spent a long time recovering in Wano, after the Strawhats and Mink Tribe returned to sea and Marco broke into Impel Down while Kaidou and the Marines clashed at Marineford and freed Izou and Haruta. The Phoenix Pirates rose from the ashes of the second Battle at Marineford, ready to claim Blackbeard's old territory and contest some of Kaidou's, who lost two Disasters in the Battle and no longer had the manpower to control his division of the four seas. Marco emerged as the fourth Yonkou, secretly backed by powerful countries and rulers independent of the World Government, like Zou and Wano, and in doing so, restabilized the regions that had fallen into chaos after Whitebeard's death.

Before Marco left for the Second Battle at Marineford, he asked Spade to be his second division commander.

"You know I can't," she said. "I don't command the trust of your men, and I can't fly under Whitebeard when I never swore an oath to that man."

"Then swear an oath to me," Marco responded gravely. "I'm gonna be captain of the Whitebeard Pirates."

Spade stared. "What brought this on?"

"All the shit that's happened up to this point," he said. "I should've done this years ago, but I didn't know how to do it without losing the memory of Pops in the process. I can't be Whitebeard 'cause I ain't him, but then I realized I didn't need to be. We're gonna change names. The Whitebeard Pirates are gonna become the Phoenix Pirates—we'll carry on Whitebeard's legacy, but the family I'm gonna build is mine. And that includes you, no matter what anyone else says."

Spade was too emotional after that point to really remember what exactly she'd responded with, but after furthering cajoling, she'd accepted the position on the condition to make the second division her own and to build it from scratch. After Marco sailed off to the Battle of Marineford, Spade combed through the Wano archives and stumbled upon the same scrolls that Law had found months before. She did the same thing he did, memorizing them, transcribing them, and she scoured the country for any translators. She found none, but instead cornered a rabbit Mink who had quietly been stalking her for some time. Spade was impressed with Poppy's ability to follow her incognito despite having gigantic ears and learned that she was an Intel Broker of intermediate level who idolized Hurricane but was too embarrassed to introduce herself. Poppy begged to join Spade's division and even found two ex-communicated samurai to join as well, and that was how Spade's own family began.


Whenever Spade called, they never talked about where they were, or what they were doing. Any updates about the Hearts or Phoenix Pirates were heard through the Underworld, delivered by news gulls, or passed through the grapevines. Neither Law nor Spade had Blocker Mushi and therefore did not want to risk any information being Tapped, but they also simply did not ask what the other was up to. Their conversations did not involve the present, but instead they dwelled on pasts. They were private—Law didn't even tell Bepo when Spade called—and sometimes became highly personal. Sometimes, Spade called even without the prompting of a flashback, and they would talk through the night about an interesting article they read, a funny folktale they heard, and this would delve into stories from their childhood, their parents, their dreams and why they had them.

Law opened up to Spade in a way he'd never expected to open to anyone: he talked about Flevance, his parents, the genocide, the Donquixote crew, the half-year Corazon had spent dragging him from hospital to hospital. He spoke about feelings: what it felt like to have so many structures of authority fail him, from the World Government and Marines to the entire institution of medicine to his former captain and crew, and the pressure he felt to embody the right kind of authority he'd sought for through his tragedies. In return, Spade told him some things about Ace, but more about Aokiji and her time in the Marines, and after a long time, she spoke of her mother whom she loved, and her father whom she swore she'd kill once she brought the World Government to its knees.

They spoke and they listened, but more so than anything, they simply existed.

The one time Spade brought up anything real and relevant to their present goals was in regards to Donquixote Doflamingo.

It had been a long time since she'd called, but when the Mushi rang in the dead of night, Law answered with the conviction he always had whenever she called. They went through the same greeting they always did—Hey, hey, how are you, fine, is something wrong—and this time, Spade actually answered, "Yes."

Law straightened up in bed.

"Are you safe?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm okay. I just." Her words were clipped, and she stopped after every two syllables, like it cost her physical pain to remain calm and collected while giving this report.

"I thought. You should. Know."

He realized that she was hyperventilating, and it made him ache.

"I just. Saw Do. Flamingo."

Law stopped breathing.

"Where? What? How? Are you hurt?"

Haltingly, Spade recapped that she was tracking a recent mass transaction of Indigo Rings that Eustass Kid had just put on the Underworld Black Market. The drugs had changed hands several times, but she'd managed to trace them through several of Kaidou's old channels before she followed the dealers to a final drop-off point and come face-to-face with Donquixote Doflamingo, well and alive, restored as one of Kaidou's prime minions now that the Yonkou had lost two Disasters.

"I got out of there as fast as I could," she said. "I'm safe right now."

Her sentences came smoother now, and Law imagined her in the warmth of some cabin, guarded and protected and safe.

"Good," he said quietly.

He wanted to ask where she was, where she'd found him, where Doflamingo stood and breathed at this very moment. He wondered if there was a limit to the distance between his and Doflamingo's location that would make him think, "No, it's not worth such a long detour." Already his blood was boiling and his vision was red; godfuckingdammit, some people just wouldn't die even when they deserved it the most.

"What will you do now?" he asked carefully.

"I'm going to make my report to Marco and wait for further instructions," she replied. "I won't engage unless he wants me to."

"But don't you want to—"
"I learned my lesson last time," Spade cut in. "I know what happens when I lose sight of the bigger purpose. Doflamingo isn't my bigger purpose. And he isn't yours either."

"Then why tell me?"

"Just thought you should know. Because, you know," she laughed weakly. "I promised you a long time ago I'd keep you updated about him."

Law scoffed. "Yes. Thanks."

"The first thing you do after you're Pirate King is find him and kill him," she said. "Your first royal execution. But not a moment sooner. All right?"

He chewed the inside of his mouth, unwilling to compromise.

"Luffy will beat you if you get sidetracked now, Law."

"I know," he said reluctantly.

"We have better things to do than to chase him down now."

He heard it—her own hesitation. She wanted Doflamingo dead just as badly, but she resisted, and she expected Law to promise to do the same. They'd both lost too much to Doflamingo already. Any more time spent on him was just more wasted. She knew this, and he did as well, but they both needed the reassurance. She'd called him first, even before calling her captain, because in this regard Law knew her more than Marco ever could. Knowing this calmed Law down significantly.

Law was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to see Spade in person. This stupid snail wasn't enough; it had been half a year since they'd left each other in Wano, and Law had half-thought that these idiotic feelings would just go away by now, but no. He wanted Spade in front of him, close enough to touch, to feel the heat jumping off her skin. He wanted to grab her and throw her on his bed, wanted to run his mouth down her neck while he undressed her, wanted to spread her legs and be buried deep enough to make her scream.

"Law?" Spade said, jostling him out of his fantasies.

"I heard you. You're right. He's not a priority right now."

"Yeah, he's not."

His right hand found its way under his sheets. He touched himself experimentally, debating if this was a good idea and realizing that he didn't really care, because he'd just learned that his archnemesis was actually still alive, and he was engaged in a terribly undefined relationship with a woman he loved but may never see again. His cock, simple and eager, agreed with his bad decision-making and rose to the occasion quite easily.

"Spade," he said. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I'm in a hotel room. Why?"

"No one will bother you?"

"No…" She sounded hesitant. "Why?"

"Good." Law shut his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. "Take off your clothes."

"Are you fucking serious—"

"Now."

The edge in Law's voice was the one he used whenever they were in the bedroom. It was a relief to employ it and even better to hear the shallow gasp on the other end of the line. After a short delay, he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding open, the click of a buckle, the thud of jeans falling to the ground, followed by lighter articles of clothing: a shirt, bra, panties. He could imagine Spade on the bed, naked, that flush high on her cheeks whenever she was embarrassed, and it made him grin. Her hair would've grown out by now, and he imagined it long and wavy, falling down her front, over her breasts and nipples peaked from the cold, and he imagined her legs spread and her insides wet.

"You know how to touch yourself?" he said, stroking himself lazily and feeling the beads of precome spill over his arousal.

"Of course, you asshole," was the heated reply.

"Good. Then get on all fours, the way you always liked to be fucked."

He heard sheets rustling and knew she was obeying. Spade's submission turned Law on so much; he loved the way the normal fire in her eyes was supplanted by yearning in the bedroom, and he relished knowing that even over Mushi, this dynamic had not changed.

"I miss fucking you."

Spade didn't reply, and Law didn't expect her to. He could hear her breaths get shallower with each passing word.

"I miss the noises you make when I suck your nipples and you don't know whether to push toward me or pull away. I miss the color your skin turns when I mark your neck, your breasts, the way you bruise when I grip your thighs apart so I can finger you. I miss being inside you." His dick throbbed at the memory. "I miss how hot and wet and tight you are whenever I start fingering you, but then you open up the moment I start scissoring."

Spade made a choked noise at the other end of the line and he imagined her doing that very act to herself now.

"Are you on all fours now?" he said. "Your hand between your thighs, dripping wet, worked open and ready for me?"

Her response was muffled into pillows and it annoyed him.

"You know how much I like hearing you, Spade," he said, his shaft gripped in his palm. His eyes were closed, but he could see her in front of him like reality: face buried in the pillows, ass up, hand working between her thighs. "Answer me."

"I said," her breaths came raggedly, "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I…I'm—ah, ready."

"Ready for my dick inside you, aren't you?" He rubbed his arousal and grazed the slit underneath with his thumb. A pleasant stinging sensation rippled down his body, and he bit back a groan. "Do you miss my dick, Spade?"

"I…" The sentence bled off into a wanton cry, but Law persisted.

"Tell me."

"I…I miss it."

"Miss what, exactly?"

"Ah, fuck you…I miss your cock…buried in me."

"You miss me bending you over and pounding into you from behind?"

Spade moaned and it sent Law's imagination into overdrive. He saw her in front of him, her hips gripped in his palms, and he thrust into his closed fist the way he wanted to slam into her. He struggled with keeping his own breaths even now, but he completed the picture for her.

"Do you miss begging me?" He remembered the way she begged, resistant, reluctant, but uncontrollable, her voice high and needy and her whimpers delicious. He could hear them now, through the Mushi—short gasps of desire at the edge of delirium. "I miss hearing you beg me…to be harder, faster, rougher…" Fog began to encroach on the edges of his mental image, and his body felt hot like she was right there in bed with him, and he thrust up into his hand like Spade was sitting on top of him, riding him, head thrown back in abandon, and what a nice picture that was, too.

"Yes," whimpered Spade, "I miss you."

"Spade," he gasped.

He barely heard his own name, the craving "Law" that registered only because his subconscious knew to look for it amidst the blinding white of orgasm. His come spilled out over his hand and onto his abdomen, and it felt hot and sticky as it pooled on his skin. He did not do a very good job containing the mess, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he dreaded the explanation he'd have to give his crew when he washed his sheets so shortly after their last laundry day.

Law opened his eyes, registering as he returned to his room in the Polar Tang, alone. The Den-Den Mushi sat on his nightstand, its lids heavy and motuh agape as it mimicked the expression of its user, and Law laughed at the sight.

"What?" Spade said shortly, and the Mushi's expression morphed into one of uncomfortable exasperation.

"Nothing. I just know what a Den-Den Mushi looks like post-orgasm now."

"Oh, my God—"

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Spade."

"I'm hanging up now, you fucker."

"I think you occupied that position for yourself today."

"Have you always been this self-important?"

"Yes, I hope you haven't forgotten."

Her response was an incoherent groan, and Law chuckled as he readjusted himself on his pillows. He brought the Mushi from his bedstand to lay next to his head. The pleasure of afterglow was now fading into a startingly clear sobriety that Law usually slept off to avoid. He'd never been the cuddling type, but his bed felt abnormally large now. The heat had escaped his skin, and he felt cold.

"How long will it be like this?" he asked, his amusement gone.

"What do you mean?"

"Us. Like this. Just…voices in air."

Spade didn't answer immediately. He heard her move around on the bed and the slide of a comforter.

"I don't know," she said quietly.

He could tell she wanted to say more, but something held her back. He understood—what was the point? He felt foolish for already asking his original question, for which there was no answer. They had established that their paths weren't meant to converge at the start, and there was no telling if it ever would again. This was how it would be for now, for forever, just sporadic calls and the occasional time Law would pull out Spade's Vivre card from his desk and watch it tug in a random direction, beckoning.

"I miss you quite a bit, Spade."

"I miss you too," she said softly. "Goodnight, Law."

The call ended, and he was left alone, speaking to the dark.


Spade had never intended for their calls to turn explicit, but since that first time, each subsequent call almost always ended in sex. She couldn't really complain about it. They never asked if they were sleeping with other people because it didn't matter, and the sex by Mushi (was it called Mushi sex? The terminology grossed her out) was welcome for the both of them. She knew Law was being far from celibate—indeed, it wasn't like they could be in monogamous relationship when she and Law could possibly never see each other again—but Spade was Spade, and after everything that happened with Doflamingo, she was even less inclined for one-night stands. Beret sometimes asked if Spade ever wanted to find a fling, even offered once or twice to do the deed herself, but Spade had taken a leaf out of Law's book and decided that sleeping with her crewmembers was a bad idea.

Beret was the fourth person to join Spade's division but easily fit the role of Vice Commander, not because she could beat the three existing members of Spade's crew, but because she felt comfortable calling the shots whenever Spade decided to embark on a solo mission. She joined because she owed Marco a debt from childhood, and because she was eager to leave South Blue, bitter to the very end that her sister had not taken her along when she'd left.

After tracking the Indigo Rings Eustass Kid had sold to gain the capital to rebuild his crew, Spade had set sail to South Blue on Marco's orders to obtain more of the original source. Marco's spasms were slowing down but still happened, so they needed more of the drug for prophylaxis. But more importantly, the Underworld had exploded with the introduction of the new opioids, and Indigo Rings sold for as high as three hundred thousand beli per pill. Rumors had it that pirates and Marines alike were laying claim to Baterilla to find the special strain of Indigo Ring required for opiate production, and, feeling responsible, Marco told Spade to handle the situation.

Spade had protested. South Blue would take weeks if not months to sail to, and she simply didn't want to go to Baterilla.

"Why me?" she said angrily.

"Fastest with you 'cause o' winds," Marco said, not even looking up from his work. "And 'cause you need to get some closure 'bout Ace."

"What."

"You never forgave him for not tellin' you 'bout his childhood or who his old man was. Maybe goin' to Baterilla, you'll find something or someone who knew 'em. It'll help you."

"I already got closure about Ace, Marco. I'm fine."

"Fuckin' Trafalgar Law ain't the same as closure. You're sailin' out tomorrow. Now stop botherin' me and help me decode this transmission."

So on the orders to claim Baterilla as Phoenix territory, to retrieve an ample supply of Indigo Rings, and to obtain questionable emotional closure regarding a dead lover, Spade arrived at Ace's birthplace to find it in utter chaos. It turned out that the island had been under Marine martial law since the first Battle of Marineford, when Ace's heritage had been announced. Local citizens were strictly governed for no real reason at all, but they all knew the cause, and they directed their hatred toward the remaining members of the Portgas family. Since the phenomenon of the Indigo Rings, small paltry pirate crews attempted to raid Baterilla several times per month, leaving the island in a constant state of punishment, repair, and starvation.

Spade arrived knowing none of this and would have stumbled into a quagmire of nonsense were it not for Jewelry Beret, who had found her way to the island several months prior.

"Been wanting to join the Phoenix Pirates since you guys announced your return. Dunno if Bonney ever told you but Marco saved our family when we were kids. Figured one of you guys would sail this way eventually." When Spade asked how Beret knew how to identify her, she shrugged. "Grew up with a crush on Firefist Ace, y'know. Memorized your bounty face a long time ago."

Beret was four years younger than her sister but in many regards more mature. She was quieter than Bonney and tended to be more careful about social niceties, though her youth did lend her a fearless rashness that led to snap decisions. She told Spade where to hide during the daytime, which routes to take to avoid the night patrol after curfew, and most importantly, introduced her to the few remaining members of the Portgas family that had not been imprisoned or killed by Marines or rebels.

Spade found out quickly that she actually hated most of Ace's remaining relatives. Plighted by the revelation that one of their own was the bastard son of the Pirate King, many blamed Ace for their misfortune and cursed his existence as well as his death. It took an explicit order from Marco for Spade not to just leave Baterilla as she found it, with the Portgases dangling by the barest threads of their remaining pride.

"Now you understand what Ace's childhood was like," Marco said calmly when she called to make her initial report. "He grew up with everyone around him sayin' shit like that."

"Right, so excuse me if I don't give a flying fuck about his blood relatives who think he's better off dead," she snapped. "I'm taking those Rings and getting out of here—this whole island can just rot in hell."

"Nope. You're claimin' it."

"Why? These ungrateful bastards think Ace was this cursed, terrible demon who burned down the Marines and therefore deserved to die! They don't even care what Ace was really like!"

"Ace was kind. He cared about his family and strangers he picked up on the side o' the road. He was fiercely protective of the people he loved and the people who couldn't fight back. If you want Ace's legacy to matter, if you want people to remember him the way Ace really was, then you start by provin' the Marines bastards wrong. You start by claimin' Baterilla, establishin' Phoenix protection over it under his name, and you make the people grateful for 'im. And I know you don't think it's gonna work, but it's a fuckin' order, so just do it."

"They're not going to give a fuck," Spade muttered.

But she did what Marco told her to do, and true to her prediction, the citizens of Baterilla did not give a fuck. They rejoiced her driving out the Marines and their martial law but cursed Ace all the same—why should they be grateful for Phoenix protection when they wouldn't have been in this situation if Ace hadn't been born in the first place? It took every ounce of self-control Spade had not to hang everyone in the town square by their thumbs, but she resisted, smiled, established a hefty tax to be collected by local Phoenix pirates stationed in South Blue, loaded up the Wingwoman with all the Indigo Rings she could find, and prepared to set sail, swearing that she would never come to this godforsaken island ever again.

As she prepared to leave with a new Vice Commander, she was approached by a couple in their early fifties, both tanned in the characteristic way of sailors. Both were stocky and the woman with dark hair interspersed with gray streaks stood a few inches over her fair-haired husband. They had with them a young girl with dark eyes and freckles that reminded Spade of Ace.

"We'd like to leave with you," the woman said.

"Does it look like I'm taking applications?" Spade said rudely.

"Please just listen to us. My name is Monaco Sage, formerly Portgas Sage, and this is my husband, Monaco Quanti."

Spade frowned. "You're a Portgas?"

"I was never particularly close to the Portgas family, and after I took my husband's last name, we fell out of touch completely. We were both Marines stationed all over South Blue, up until three years ago."

"Cool." Spade turned to leave.

"Wait, please!"

"Look, if you think being a Portgas is gonna soften my heart or whatever, just know it took everything I had not to burn that antique mansion to the ground with everyone still in it. I don't know what you want but I'm hardly going to let two Marines join my ship."

"We were dismissed disgracefully from the Marines after the First Battle of Marineford when they found our association with the Portgases," Quanti said gravely. "Believe me, we do not have any fond feelings left for our former employers."

"I've heard those words too many times from ex-Marines and quite honestly, I never fully believe them."

"We would not ask you for anything if it weren't for Sophie," Sage insisted. "This is our granddaughter. Her parents were both executed by the Marines for questioning the broadcasts of the First Battle at Marineford. We do not feel safe remaining in Baterilla with her, and only ask that you take us with you. Please. We are happy to swear fealty to you or your captain."

Spade glared at the child, who waved at her happily. "Does it look like I'm running a fucking charity?"

Spade's tone had made Poppy cringe and pull her ears over her eyes. Even Beret was taken aback by Spade's belligerence, but Spade was all out of kind feelings and just desperately wanted to leave the island. The constant reminder of Ace and everything he'd never told her rubbed her raw, but worse was being in Baterilla and catching a glimpse of the hateful atmosphere that Ace had grown up believing was his birthright. It horrified and humiliated her that in her attempts to keep her own secrets, she'd never probed for Ace's, and had consequently never fully understood the man who'd believed so fiercely in Fate and had said on more than one occasion that he was never meant to be alive. It was unnerving to realize that such a significant part of the man she'd believed was the love of her life had been a mystery to her up to this point, and it unearthed questions about their relationship that Spade did not want to address.

"It wouldn't be for free," stated Quanti. "I was a Marine doctor, and Sage was a pharmacist and sous chef. We noticed that these are both occupations you'd benefit from. I'd also give you this."

He retrieved a spiral fruit from the depths of his luggage and offered it to her. "I specialized in Devil's Fruits users back in my time with the Marines, and memorizing their patterns was a hobby of mine. I found this fruit growing in a deep cavern on the eastern side of Baterilla, near the Indigo Ring fields. This is the Gura Gura no Mi, former fruit of Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard."

Spade noticed that he omitted Blackbeard from the conversation and could not decide if she liked the man more or less for his consideration.

"No way," said Spade icily. "If Blackbeard's dead, it's barely been a year. Fruits don't regrow that fast."

"Actually, the average turnover is a year," replied Quanti. "I've checked my sources. This is the fruit that bestows the power of earthquakes upon its user. I will give this to you and the Phoenix Pirates if you accept us."

Spade checked her own sources and disbelievingly confirmed that it was indeed the Gura Gura no Mi. She conferred with Marco, who of course accepted the trio before even hearing about what they offered in return. And so she set sail back to the New World with two ex-Marines and a distant relative of Ace's in tow, as well as the only confirmation she'd ever received of Blackbeard's death. She had fully intended to dump the Monacos off with another division or Phoenix-protected territory more well-equipped to raising a child, but Sophie oddly latched on to Spade like a koala to its favorite tree and Spade soon learned that she was terrible at turning young, orphans with tragic histoires away. They bonded, and Spade warmed up to Sophie's Nan and Dan, whose age and wisdom caused them to treat the rest of the crew a bit like their own children, while maintaining a heavy dose of respect for the crew's hierarchy.

One time, Aokiji visited the Wingwoman itself, sending the Monacos into reels of awe and profuse displays of "Yes, sir" and "No, sir" and slight horror at the way Spade called the former Admiral a "lazy son of a bitch." She introduced Sophie to her old mentor reluctantly, expecting Aokiji to either laugh hysterically at her sentimentality or chastise her for being so stupid as to take a child under her wing when being a commander was still so fresh for her. Kuzan did neither. He played hide-and-seek with Sophie, made her squeal with delight when he created an ice skating rink for her right on the Wingwoman's deck, and watched with a faint smile as she skated around with the twins.

"What?" Spade said, already defensive, when she caught him looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

"I'm proud of you," he said simply.

"What for?"

"You caring for that child."

"I'm not—her grandparents do. I'm just…shipping them around."

"You don't need to pretend that you don't care. I'm proud of you." Aokiji patted her on the head, something that he used to do back when she'd performed well at Marine training. "I have never regretted saving you from that alley, Skye, but seeing you now…once queen of the Underworld, now a division commander for the Phoenix Pirates, but ultimately still kind at your core, I have never been so certain that I made the right choice that day."

That night, Spade went up to the crow's nest alone and cried, overwhelmed with emotion and validation, a leaden weight she'd never noticed finally cast off her shoulders. As she did so, thankful not for the first time for Kuzan and his generosity, reveling in her fortune to find a mentor so kind, the Blue Pheasant fed Monaco Sophie the entire Gura Gura no Mi, and then left promptly before Spade found out.

Spade never cried about the kindness of her mentor ever again.


"You're kidding," was Law's stunned response when Spade recapped just how Sophie had ingested the Gura Gura no Mi.

"I wish I was." Spade cut her steak, pleased when the meat fell easily to the blade. "It's been a nightmare. Can you imagine, an eight-year-old who can make earthquakes whenever she's angry? I swear Kuzan did it just so he could show me how much of a nightmare I was after I got my powers."

"I always knew he was carefree, but…" Law let out a low whistle, causing some of their fellow restauranteers to glare at him. "That's on another level."

Spade wasn't quite certain how Law had convinced her to have dinner in public with him, much less be convinced to have dinner in a five-star restaurant that required her to put on a dress and curl her hair. (Fine, it wasn't like Law had asked her explicitly to dress up, but Spade knew what was required of her in an upper-class establishment if she did not want to attract attention.) She wore a sleeveless baby blue silk slip dress. Her hair hid most of her back tattoo, and she did not bother concealing her arms or legs. With the right amount of makeup, people assumed she was a Fioran citizen, the latest victim swept up by the glamorous infamy of piracy, as she was sure Law had made his rounds with the Fioran populace.

Law liked what he saw. He said it and showed it, his gray eyes trailing over her visible tattoos: the phoenix in her inner arm, the new, smaller version of her Ace of Spades tattoo on her outer left shoulder, and the subtle spade at her outer wrist declaring the division she belonged to.

Law was dressed up too. Much to Spade's surprise, he showed up to dinner in a pressed white dress shirt with the first two buttons open and black slacks, his goatee trimmed and his hair actually styled with some product. He could easily fit into these kinds of establishments, if it weren't for barest traces of ink peeking from underneath his shirt or his gold earrings, like intentional bursts of rebellion. Spade liked what she saw too.

"How about you?" she said. "Your new team members?"

"Just Ovid," replied Law. "You can meet him tomorrow if you want. The rest of the crew will be glad to see you too."

Spade smiled. "I'd like that. Where'd you find Ovid?"

"At Karakuri Institute." Law drank his wine deeply. "He was a first-year, bored out of his mind in his lectures. Engineering genius. Our propellers had crapped out and he fixed them in less than an hour, then updated our sonar system to be able to respond automatically to any sudden foreign objects. Reduced our crashing incidents by nearly fifty percent and halved the number of people needed on navigational duty."

"Wow," Spade said, impressed.

"Timid as fuck though."

"Well, you're not the nurturing type, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"Yeah, but why join pirates if you can't even speak to one," Law said, finishing his glass and pouring another. "Whatever, we're working on it."

Spade handed Law her glass to refill. "Why were you at Karakuri?"

"Fulfilling Ikkaku's dream," he answered. "Figured I owed it to her. Ended up staying there for almost half a year."

"Really? What for?"

"They have a pretty extensive library. I was doing some Poneglyph research."

"Find anything new?"

Law smirked. "Come now, Spade. I thought we'd try to avoid shop talk until tomorrow."

"We both came to Fiora for a reason. I want those Wano scroll translations and anything else Poneglyph related."

"Yes," Law said slowly. "I assume you also want to see the Poneglyph hidden under the Fioran palace, the ancient artwork of legend that was enough to turn invaders away."

Spade stared at him, and Law snorted.

"Please, you can't seriously believe that I came to Fiora just to meet Panda, just like you came to Fiora just for those Wano scrolls. Our minds work in similar ways, Spade. I'm offended you're even surprised."

"No, I guess I'm not," she sighed. "I should've come sooner, but I got caught up with something else. So you've seen it already? The Poneglyph?"

"Shop talk tomorrow, Miss Spade."

"Come on, Law."

"Fine," he said, "but last thing for tonight. Yes, I've already seen it. The only reason we've been traipsing around Fiora without bothering to hide our identities is because I cured the queen's granddaughter of her muscular dystrophy. As a reward, she granted me access to the Poneglyph and a welcome stay for however long we need."

"Ah, damn," said Spade ruefully. "So you already cured her."

Law arched an eyebrow. "Oh, that was your plan too?"

"Yeah," she sighed, resigned. "I brought a Phoenix feather."

Law's eyes glittered. "That's worth a fortune."

"Pointless, now that you've done its job," Spade said wryly. "I'll think of something else. Fine, ending shop talk now. What else did you want to discuss?"

"An endless number of topics. Let's begin with why you didn't tell your crew about me." Law had long finished his meal and was content with watching Spade finish her steak at a painstakingly slow rate. "That mistake could've have proven fatal today."

"That was Beret being an idiot," Spade said thinly.

"She would've never made that mistake if she'd known our history."

"You don't tell your crew everything either," she retorted. "Some things are personal. I did everything I could to make sure our personal history was wiped out from records and didn't see why my crew needed to know about it either. Word spreads, Law. I didn't need us to be each other's weakness. We learned that lesson the hard way two years ago."

Law's eyes had gained a hard edge. "The events of two years ago didn't happen just because of us. There were a plethora of other reasons—our relationship was hardly significant enough that it could shatter the world as we knew it. Even I'm not that conceited."

"I'm usually not either, but I was the queen of the fucking Underworld, so I actually do think my choices were enough to 'shatter the world' or whatever. And I made my choices because of how I felt about you, like it or not."

"Then the issue was how you felt about me, not whether people knew it."

"I can't change how I feel about you. The only thing I can control is whether or not people will exploit that knowledge. You're the last person I thought I'd have to explain this concept to. You're the one who told me that no one accomplished anything when they were in love."

Law stared at her, gaze pensive. She could tell that it wasn't exactly the answer he wanted, but she didn't know what he was looking for in the first place.

"Fine. I get it." Law finished the rest of his wine in one gulp and stood up. "Are you done?"

Spade pushed away her empty plate and got to her feet, unsure of what to expect for the rest of the night. Seeing Law again after two years was not as difficult as she'd anticipated it to be. They picked up where they'd left off, comfortable with each other, and it took a significant bit of self-control not to confess everything on her mind to him. She trusted Law, but then there would be moments where Spade was reminded that people grew a lot over the course of two years, and she couldn't read Law as well as she thought. It made her uneasy.

Law tossed several beli bills on the table and followed Spade out of the restaurant onto the street, which was full of young college and graduate students, tipsy and laughing. A young woman with bright red hair in a tight black dress grabbed Spade's wrist. Spade held back her instincts to break the wrist in half only when she glimpsed the flush of drunken stupor across the stranger's cheeks.

"Hey, babe," the woman smiled. Her freckles were gold and glittered in the street's yellow lamplight. "What's your name?"

"Ah, sorry," said Spade gently. The woman's grip was surprisingly rough. Instead of pulling away, Spade leaned into her and rested her hand on the woman's hip, close to her purse. "You're lovely, but I'm busy tonight."

"Ooh, no, don't be!" she laughed, coming so close her breath brushed over Spade's nose. It smelled like lemon mints. "Let's have some fun. I don't think I've seen you around before…you just come from outta town?"

Law pushed the stranger away firmly, and she staggered briefly into the street before recovering herself and launching herself in Law's face.

"Excuse you!"

Law's hand immediately wrapped around her throat.

"Please send my regards to the queen," said Law, gray eyes glowing like warm coals. "I appreciate her hospitality, but do not need her overbearing spy network hovering over my every action."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" the woman said, now desperately regretting her aggression. "P-please don't hurt me!"

Law dropped her in the street and watched as she scrambled away as quickly as possible. Spade heaved a sigh.

"You are so rude."

"You let down your guard around women. It's going to kill you one day."

"Don't patronize me," said Spade coolly. She lifted up a thin knife she'd pilfered from the stranger's purse, so thin it was practically a needle, sheathed in a beautiful silver scabbard. On its hilt was the Fioran crest. "She was a royal guard, not a spy. They're not the most subtle."

"You shouldn't take things that aren't yours, Miss Spade."

"I left her a calling card in return." She tucked the knife between her breasts. "If the queen can strike a deal with the Hearts, maybe she'll do the same for Marco. In a way, I'm glad she's spying on you. Shows that she's not a total idiot, letting pirates just wander about her city. Though it's possible that woman was acting on her own accord—I'm sure people don't like pirates in their midst. You make it too easy—it's like you're asking to be attacked."

Law gave a cryptic half-smile. "Perhaps."

Spade frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe I want to be found."

Before she could demand further answers, Law wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her onto the cobblestone street, swept into the turmoil of the night. Sinomet at night contained a dry heat of perfumed spices, but even though Law's touch made her sticky with sweat, she leaned into it.

Were you waiting for me to find you? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she did not let them fall. She rested her arm around Law's waist, returning the embrace, and it was strange, walking these streets as a unit when they'd traveled on diverging roads for so long, but in the dark of night and cusp of a new era, nothing felt more right.