Kitsune here! The response to the last chapter was amazing guys! I want to say it was exactly what I was looking for. Bard got to me on this fun Omake-goodness quickly, so I'm getting it to you now. Look for a couple of notes at the bottom, alright? Oh! We're just a few reviews shy of 300 which is amazing, considering there's what? One other story in this crossover?
Question of the chapter: "What's your biggest pet peve with your friends?" When they say they're going to visit or call, and they NEVER do. Seriously, don't give me the crap that you can't afford gas. I'm poor, too, and I still manage to visit people. It's called budgeting; don't buy booze, buy gas, you jerk. (Sorry, I'm kind of pissed at a friend right now...)
Battlefield burns
He stared up in shock into the vivid blue eyes that weren't half closed for a change. He wouldn't have...couldn't have! Donald's mind screamed at him, trying to convince the rest of his body that he was just trapped in a horrible nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, he couldn't hear anything... if a grenade really had gone off, people would be screaming. There would be blood. No blood...I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming. Something wet hit his cheek. He wasn't even aware of wiping it off, but when he looked at his fingers, they were smeared with red. His worried eyes looked up to the blonde, noticing his lips were moving. As he focused on them, sound came back to him in a rush.
"~re you hurt? Mallard, answer me, dammit. Are you hurt?"
"N-no." The blood was freely flowing from under Marco's helmet, as well as down his arm at an alarming rate. "Oh my, you're hurt! Of course! How foolish...Don't...Don't move...let me see what I can do."
He shimmied out from under the man turning away quickly from those who had been much less fortunate in the blast. He could tell at just a glance they were already gone. It was so fast... One moment the unit had been returning to base, not exactly relaxed, but in high spirits as they fanned out a bit on the field. The next someone shouted, and The blond was turning, throwing 'Ducky' underneath his body as the world seemed to explode around them. His eyes found Marco again. The man hadn't moved from his live-saving push-up position. His fatigues were soaked in blood, shrapnel stuck out of his back in a few spots. Donald had seen some horrific wounds before. He'd seen soldiers pull through despite all odds, too. But he was a doctor, and they were still far away from base camp with no supplies. The cool clinical part of his mind that knew this saw the damage and said he is not going to survive. The Scotsman squashed it.
"It doesn't look too bad..."
A wet chuckle, "What's the line again? 'It's but a flesh wound?' Come on, Doc, I can't feel my legs right now. Bet I look like shit, yoi."
"You're rather calm about this," Donald knelt in front of his personal hero, not wanting him to have to strain to look at him. "You saved my life, Marco. I'm sorry, but I can't return the favor." His voice was heavy with regret and self loathing. If only I was a better doctor. If only we were closer...If only... "Is...is there anything I can do for you, friend? Anything at all?"
"Yeah, actually..." Marco nodded his head with a grin that was amazingly cocky despite the situation, "You can keep quiet about what you're about to see."
He was confused for all of three seconds before blue and gold flames raced across the soldier's body. Then he completely freaked out as he pushed himself as far away from the now burning man as fast as he could. Marco saw this and started to laugh as he sat up, apparently unharmed by the fire. In fact, as Donald watched, it seemed like the fire was somehow healing the wounds. The blood dried and flaked off his skin and lacerations closed before his very eyes. He even heard the distinct sound of metal hitting metal; the shrapnel, he assumed. In moments Marco was standing before him whole and healthy as the flames receded.
"H-how? You were...but then? That's impossible!"
"Ever hear of this nasty little experiment during world war two? Lead to the creation of this drug called Devil-fruit. If you take it you kinda become a superhuman. That's if you don't die, yoi. I'll explain later, when we're not in the middle of the jungle."
"So, you took this drug? How does it work?"
"Later, yoi."
"Marco, this is fascinating!"
"Yeah yeah... Why'd I save your life again?" The blond smiled at him, taking the bite out of the words, "Seriously yoi. You can't tell anyone."
Donald Mallard offered a weak smile of his own, "Who would believe me anyway?"
Birthday Dates
Makino had to fight down the nervous fluttery feeling in her belly when her date offered his assistance when she got out of the taxi. It was to be expected, she guessed. Shanks was attractive, the scars on his face actually giving him a roguish look she found appealing. Other ladies did, too, if the envious looks were anything to judge by. She'd first met Shanks in London, years ago. He'd already been a big name in his own rights, making a move into the big league as it were, and Roger had sent her to get a feel for him, see if he could be useful. Dragon had just told her to have a good time. So, she had gone, full of determination for her cause...and have found a man who was happily carefree in everything he did. She'd been so annoyed at first, especially when he had the nerve to hit on her of all things. He'd seen it, of course. Shanks saw it and laughed. Told her if she was going to try and play him for her bosses, she'd have to work harder than that, but if she wanted to play with him on her own now, well...
She had to admit, she was intrigued. No one had ever seen through her ruse before or since. Over drinks that first night the truth of the matter had come out, and an uneasy truce was made. He'd stay out of the Revolution's affairs if at all possible, but he wouldn't team up with them. Shanks would only deal through her, of course, but she saw no problem in meeting him for clandestine 'chats' every now and again. Like this evening at Baratie ostentatiously for Shanks' birthday. True, there was the high class side of the restaurant, but Shanks had chosen the homelier bar-side for their little date. She was in disguise of course, her black hair stuffed under a emerald-green wig that matched her eyes and more makeup than she usually wore.
Shanks leaned in and whispered, "You look beautiful," as they were guided to a small table for two, his eyes twinkled, "Bit early for St. Patrick's day, though. We should go out again."
"Flirt."
"Horribly." He acknowledged.
The meal was fantastic. Baratie lived up to reputation, no matter what side you ate on. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the food. From what she knew of the city and it's underground war, the restaurant was not technically part of anyone's territory, though strictly speaking it fell under Jinbe's protection. Still, most of the patron would hardly be aware of the fact. The staff themselves didn't seem to mind the boss from a rival mafia sitting calmly at a table, either. Many waved in fact, mouthing 'happy birthday' to the grinning man. She smiled, turning her attention back to her date.
"So, how goes the plot for world domination?" He quipped, pouring her a glass of wine.
Taking a sip she shook her head, "You know very well we're not trying to take over the world. We're trying to help it along the right path...just using unorthodox methods. It goes...well, it goes. There are some new elements that may prove problematic later. And you? I hear you're in negotiations with Whitebeard, is it true?"
"Where did a pretty little lass hear that, I wonder?" He laughed, a little red in the face, "No, really, who told you? I just had word for Juzo today that the man wanted to discuss a possible treaty."
"Oh, a lady has her ways..." It was no secret that Whitebeard was having some trouble with his shipments, and word was he'd just lost another one. A few of their contacts hinted that the culprit was a common enemy to the two men, so it seemed a logical conclusion to her.
"Right... Well. First I have to see what the old man wants, really. We've done a good job of staying out of each other's way, but I'd rather not make him an enemy. Already got one of those in town." He glanced around the room, mood soured momentarily and Makino felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't meant to spoil the evening.
She was quite surprised when Shanks nearly face planted into the table. For a moment, all she could see was a straw hat where his head had been a moment before. The hat looked very familiar to her, but for the life of her, she couldn't place the tattered well-loved straw with it's bright red band. A second Later, Shanks levered himself off the table using both hands, and she got a clear look at the boy underneath the hat that had attached himself to her date's neck and shoulders in a very enthusiastic hug. Her first impression was of a blindingly wide smile that had the kid's eyes closed it was so big and a scar under the left eye. Messy black hair became evident as the hat fell to hang about the boy's neck on a string as he rubbed his cheek against Shanks' grinning all the while. The redhead just laughed.
"Shanks! Happy Birthday!" The boy beamed, "Can I have your bread sticks?"
"Dahahaha! No, you can't have them, you little dork. How'd you find me?"
"Ray. He said you were on a date," the boy looked at her for the first time, his smile faltering for just a moment as the burnt-chocolate brown eyes studied her intently.
Makino didn't miss the way the man gently squeezed the boy's hand, or the look of tenderness in his own lighter brown eyes as he glanced at the child. She knew she was missing something important. "This is Maki, she's a friend, kiddo. I've known her for a long time; she's good people."
"Maki...?" The boy seemed to think about it for a moment before grinning at her, "You're pretty."
"Thank you, you're very handsome yourself."
"Don't waste your flattery, he's too dense," Shanks' winked at her. "Where's your brother?"
"Mmm? Oh, he fell asleep by the bar so I told Patty to use him as a towel rack until he wo-" an arm snaked around his neck cutting him off as he was pulled into a headlock by a taller teen with a murderous look in his grey eyes.
"You little shit! Now I smell like sock!" The newcomer growled out, digging his knuckles into the younger boy's scalp. The younger just yelped playfully and giggled, apparently unaffected by the rough treatment. "Happy birthday, Shanks."
"Thanks, Ace. You've still got a dishrag in your back pocket you know." Makino hid a laugh as the teen released his brother at those words and tossed the rag at the bar as hard as he could. It actually made it, too.
The teen smirked as he caught the orange hat that was flung back at him by a laughing bartender. He casually spun the orange bucket hat on his finger before flopping it onto his head haphazardly, allowing Makino to get a good look at it for the first time. She knew the symbol on the patch stitched to the front of the hat. It belonged to a man who had contacted her bosses in an attempt to form an alliance only to be turned away. Something about him had bothered the two leaders strongly, and from what she knew, he was also the very man who'd been giving Shanks trouble. She turned to Shanks worriedly.
"Yes, Maki-dear?"
"These boys are members of Blackbeard's gang? Isn't he your rival?" She was not expecting both boys to bristle angrily.
"Well, aren't you a smart bitch?"
"Ace! Language!" Shanks snapped, before turning to her just as the food was brought. "It's...complicated."
"We're not in his Fu...freaking gang." The elder brother grumbled looking away from the warning glare the Mafia leader gave him. "We don't like him, lady. We're...stuck."
"Shanks is cool though! He's tried to bully smelly Teach into letting us go!" The younger boy grinned, tugging on his hat. The grin faltered, "It doesn't work though...he just get's mean about it."
It was easy enough for Makino to tell what he meant by that, even without the heartbroken look that flashed across Shanks' face. She could tell right then that he truly cared for the boys and wasn't just using them, even if they were somehow tied to one of his worst enemies. It was just as clear to the resistance member that he'd been completely unaware of the repercussions of pressuring his enemy. A foolish yet endearing quality, since he'd never consider doing something like that himself.
"Boys, I..."
The freckled teen waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, you know how he is. He'd find some other reason, anyway. At least you give a shit, right?" His phone started to ring, and he pulled it out with a look of great reluctance, "Yeah, Teach?...Sorry...sorry Uncle...bu...Yo...W...Yes Sir...Yes Sir..." He wilted, literally collapsing into himself while the smaller teen pressed against his side looking miserable. Finally he hung up and sighed, "Come on, Lu. We've got to get back."
"We're in trouble again, aren't we?"
"Us? When aren't we in some kind of trouble? Enjoy your date, Shaymus."
The worried look was gone from Shank's face as he sputtered in shock, his cheeks coloring, "Shay...Ace! What did you just? Where did you hear that?!"
"Rayleigh. He said that your mum was gonna name you Patrick if you'd been born like a week later, too." The younger boy grinned, walking backwards as his brother kept a firm hand on the back of his shirt.
After the boys had left Shanks refused to meet her eyes, still blushing. She couldn't help but tease him a little bit, "Is it true? Is that your real name, Mr. Shanks of the red-hair?"
"It's a family name." He explained, "Benn and Rayleigh used to tease me about it when I started making a name for myself and all. Gotta admit, they had a point. Who's going to take Shaymus Rua seriously around here? Besides, it never suited me." He chuckled, tugging on his hair, "Well, except for the Rua part."
"Well, I think it's a sweet name. Though it definitely doesn't fit with your bad-boy image." Makino leaned in and smiled seductively at him, "Lá Breithe Sona duit, Mo Shaymus Rua."
The Enemy of the Enemy
Whitebeard remained seated as Shanks was lead into the room. The younger man has a jaunty gate, though he carried himself like he was ready for a fight. Good, he can feel the tension, Newgate thought. One week ago he'd had one of his men approach the other mafia boss with his request for a talk and the possible alliance, above and beyond what they'd already had worked out. Something he was beginning to think might not have been a good idea. Everything he knew of the man called Shanks said that while he could be ruthless, he was a leader Whitebeard could respect. Or at least he thought he could.
A few days ago, two of Newgate's sons, Thatch and Marco, had been late for a meeting about yet another shipment that had been destroyed. He hadn't been unduly worried until they'd arrived almost an hour late. Thatch had been practically vibrating with tension, and even Marco, the calmest of all of his adopted children was visibly rattled. They had found Blackbeard's Devil-fruit users. They were mere boys, and Teach was hurting them. It was pandemonium as everyone wanted to know who they were, and how they'd been found. The story came out and Edward had never been so proud of his boys as he was that moment when Thatch and Marco both looked at him and told him in no uncertain terms that they were going to help these two.
Of course he gave them his blessing, how could he not? The rest of his men had pitched in, taking on the extra work so the two could help the brothers move in to a run down apartment and get closer to them. The reports were anything but promising. Both were distrustful and with apparent good reason. Thatch had tailed the older boy, Ace, back to Teach's place. He hadn't even made it in the door before the man had lit into him, slamming the unresisting young man against a brick wall before dragging him inside. His commander had said when the freckled teen emerged carrying two boxes an hour later he was in obvious pain. Pain he'd done his best to mask in front of Marco who'd been waiting at the apartment with the younger boy, Luffy.
Luffy, from what he heard, was barely more trusting than his brother. He wasn't too bright from what Whitebeard understood. Something Marco had shamelessly taken advantage of when he'd seen a certain strawhat unpacked. It hadn't taken much to get the teen talking about the person who'd given him the hat. The very same man who was now standing before Newgate, a cocky grin on his face.
"Nice place you have here, Whitebeard! Much better than my place," he clapped his hands together. "So, I'm here."
He glowered down at the younger man, "Yes. You are."
"Whoa whoa, what's with the look?" The redhead sounded downright bewildered as he took his seat.
"It appears we have much to talk about." He sighed, willing to give the man in front of him the benefit of the doubt for the sake of their alliance. Leaning back, he began, "What can you tell me about two teens who go by the name of Ace and Luffy?"
Shanks blinked, taken by surprise, "Marshall's boys?"
"So it's true that you know them." He shifted forward, his heart sinking as he felt the chance for a lasting alliance slipping away. He did find it interesting how the other man returned his glare with one of his own.
"Why do you want to know about them? Did you do something to them?" The air practically crackled with tension, "I swear to you, Newgate, if you hurt Luffy..."
"Don't threaten me, you brat!" He snapped, "Rushing to the defense of Marshall's get, are we Shanks?"
"I don't give two shits about who they're with! I'm their friend! Well, mostly Luffy's." Shanks huffed, insulted, "Cute kid once you get past the biting."
He growled, "What do you do to him that he bites you?"
"Nothing like that! Geesh, what do you take me for? Luffy was something like eleven at the time. Poor tyke was hiding in a box, shaking like a leaf. Still tried to take my hand off when I dragged him out. Been trying to look out for him and his brother ever since." The man made a fist, and Whitebeard saw a faint scar that did resemble a bite, "Why? Have you and your men seen them? Are they alright?"
"Is there a reason you'd think they wouldn't be?"
Shanks gave a humourless chuckle, "Besides Marshall liking to beat the crap out of the both of them when things don't go his way, you mean?" Newgate said nothing, "Teach knows I'm fond of Luffy. At first, me giving the brat my hat was a good way to keep the bastard from killing him. Or worse...Newgate, I know you had your reasons, but you should have killed that sonofabitch when you had the chance. Now that he's got some power behind him, he's not above forcing my hand using the boys..."
"And you fear he knows we were meeting for an alliance." Whitebeard could easily understand the other's worry in that case.
"It's the only thing I can think of. No one has seen them on the streets since just after Christmas. No word at Rip-off or Barite... from what I can gather their last job went reasonably well, too. They've been completely gone from sight for weeks now. So please, screw the alliance talk right now. If you know where my friends are, you have to tell me."
He studied the man in front of him. Shanks looked decidedly haggard and amazingly sober as well. It was obvious he was worried, and Whitebeard was grateful that he had been wrong about the man's relationship with the two young Devil-fruit users.
"They are a little worse for wear, but the boys seem to be fine. Two of my men stumbled across them a few days ago, in fact. Apparently Ace decided it was time to move out and find a place of his own."
"Damn. Luffy alright?"
"He's getting there. Ace has taken quite a beating as well...Shanks," Newgate chose his words carefully, "I am to blame for what has happened to those boys. What Blackbeard has done to them is perhaps worse than you realise."
Shanks froze, watching him intently, "What, exactly, do you mean by that, Edward?" His tone was frighteningly serious.
Whitebeard debated with himself if it was really his secret to share. In reality he knew it wasn't his place, but this man before him had been there for the two he already thought of as sons. Shanks had no reason to help to street rats working for the very man who'd scarred him. Yet he did, and he worried about them. The young man deserved to know why and how Teach hurt his little friends. As the one indirectly responsible, he owed it to Shanks.
"I'm sure you know of Devil-fruit users, boy." He began with a sardonic smile. The redhead's lips twitched ever so slightly in response. "Before Teach, no, Blackbeard left us, he'd been offered the drug. He refused. The mortality rate was too much for him."
"Yeah, so? What's this got to do with Ace and Luffy?"
"Apparently Blackbeard got it into his head to make his own users." Whitebeard held up a hand, "I swear to you, Shanks, on the lives of my children, we did not know! We knew he had two users who were interfering with our work. I had always thought he had found adults, hardened criminals if he'd given the drug to anyone. I was a fool."
Shanks held up a hand, "Wait, you mean to tell me that Ace and Luffy are Devil-fruit users?"
"Yes."
The look he gave the mustached leader was incredulous. "Luffy? Ace, yeah. I can kinda see that. Kid has a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. But...Luffy? Have you met the kid? God, he's got the personality of a lab puppy on pot. He couldn't follow orders if his life depended on... I guess that explains the mystery bruises though." He nodded, "So, about that alliance...I'd like to revise it. Take into consideration a mutual interest in the future well being of my young friends. Whaddya say? We have a deal, Whitebeard?"
Betting Pools
Tony slipped into the observation room after dropping off food to Ace. He didn't seem surprised to see her standing there; arms crossed, glaring at the suspect on the other side of the glass. Instead, he just silently joined her. He knew she needed some time and would talk when she felt like it. It was one of the reasons they got along so well. They understood each other. Not that Ziva would ever admit it out loud. She felt that way about her whole team, really. They were a family, and a better family than the two suspects they brought in.
Ace had finished both his sandwiches before she finally spoke, "I do not trust them. The little one especially."
"Oh, Ziva, don't be like that!" Tony teasingly admonished her, watching the dark haired young man rattle his cup, peering into it. "You hardly know them. What the hell is he doing?"
"I do not need to know them. My bruises know them enough for me." Ziva grumbled, pointing at a particularly nasty one on her arm, "he barely grazed me and look at this! Tony, if it had connected, he would have broken my arm!"
He hissed, wincing at the dark purple mark in sympathy, "Wow, that looks painful. You should put some ice on it or something. I'm sure Luffy didn't mean it?"
The young man in the interrogation room dumped out all the ice cubes onto the table and was poking them around, "Oh-ho, he meant it. And you know what else? He cheats!"
"How do you cheat it fighting?" Tony asked, brows furrowed as he watched Ace place one ice cube on top of another, "I think he's trying to stack them."
"I do not know how! But he does! I am telling you, I would go to bock, and it wouldn't work. That won't either."
He turned away from the window, looking at her incredulously, "So...he was better than you?"
"NO! It was a solid block!" She began to pace, running thought the fight for the hundredth time and trying to explain to her friend what had happened in a way he would understand. Which is impossible, because I do not understand it myself. Ziva huffed, "I connected. But, it was like, he, I do not know, somehow moved around the block at the same time."
"Well, the kid is flexible. Freakily so. Should have seen him in our car. Almost gave me heart failure. Maybe it has something to do with his ability." Tony suggested, watching Ace stack the ice cubes.
"Maybe...And this one. Do you know what he did? He told the person at McDonald's that we were trying to kidnap him. Can you believe it?"
Her partner smirked, "The nerve of some people."
"I know! I mean, first he tried to kick out the window on the highway. That I could understand. Maybe. But the whole McDonald's thing?"
"Ridiculous. How did it work?"
"The window?" She looked over at Tony, deliberately playing dense just to get a rise out of him, "About as well as could be expected." It worked, and he rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner.
"No, Ziva. The pretending to be kidnaped thing."
"Oh. That."
"Yes, That." He huffed, turning his attention back to watching Ace lick an ice cube before adding it to the stack, "I bet you twenty bucks he stacks them all."
"You're on. It worked surprisingly well, actually. It is something I will have to remember. I think the icing on the cup"
"Cake"
"Cake was at the end when the mess was straightened out. He asked if they had any honey for his fries, all smiles. He is very...cheeky. I do not like him."
"Got to give him points for style though."
She had to smiled, "Yes. Except for the orange hat. That is just...gaudy. Is that the word?" Tony nodded. The door opened, and both agents turned to see Ducky enter with Gibbs before returning their attention to the ice cube tower. There was money riding on it, after all.
Killer Tantrum
"Alright, in you go."
The tall redhead shrugged himself out of the officer's grip and threw himself back at the bars of the cage they had dared to throw him in. Stupid police interfering with his damn fight. He hadn't even started the thing, but he sure as hell was going to finish it. No one messed with Eustass, let alone broke a bottle over his fucking head. Fuck that. Bullshit, man. Total bullshit. So what if he never got a look at the bastard? He figured if he tossed enough drunks into tables and punched enough people, he was bound to smash the guy good. Not like the others were innocent either anyway. They'd fucking laughed at him. Course, someone had to go call the damn cops just when the fight was getting good. See if he ever took care of a slave trafficking ring in the area again. Hope their kids got sold to a whorehouse. No, wait, he liked kids...Dammit but he was pissed.
So now here he was, stuck in a small ass little cell until he 'cooled off'. He slammed the bars again in frustration before turning around and noticing for the first time he wasn't alone. The other man in the tank with him was almost as tall as he was with a wild mane of golden blond hair. It wasn't even the kind you got out of the bottle, and his first thought was damn, this guy loves his hair before he shrugged it off and went back to being pissed. The slightly bemused look sent his way helped in that regards.
"What the fuck you lookin at?"
"Not much." The man smirked, "The bars insult you?"
"Yes! They're there, dammit! Fuckin' cops bustin' up a good fight!" He plopped down on a bench across from the man, "Said I was drunk. Do I look drunk to you?"
"No, you sound pissed. What was the fight about, Mr...?"
"Some asshole mistook my head for a bottle opener. Didn't catch their face, so I spread the beating around." He grinned, remembering the thrill of the fight. "It's Kidd. Eustass Kidd, by the way."
"Ah, so you were throwing a temper tantrum then."
"...I could kill you with my aglets."
The man blinked at him, taken back. "Excuse me?"
"Aglets. You know, those things on the end of shoelaces. I could kill you with mine." He pointed to his boots and the small caps of metal on them, "Just sayin."
The blond seemed to seriously consider that for a moment before laughing. Kidd was a bit surprised as it wasn't the usual sound of derision he got, but one of genuine amusement, "I'll keep that in mind. Name's Killer."
"For real?"
"Jack Tueur." The other explained.
"If you tell me your middle name is 'Ripper' or gah, what's the French for it? Éventreur? I'm gonna die laughing." Eustass leaned in, the man, Killer, colored slightly and wouldn't meet his eyes. He howled in laughter, "Damn that's good!"
"My parents thought they were...funny." Killer pulled a face, "But I like the nickname more."
"I can see why. Man, a name like that would be useful in my, uh, line of work." He mused, noting how silent their little slice of the jail was.
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Kidd grinned at the other as he put things together, "Just last week I busted up this human trafficking ring. Kind of what I do, ya know? Go looking for trouble, I guess. You?"
"Me?" Killer cocked his head to the side, fingering his goatee, "This and that, whatever my bosses want."
"That why you broke a bottle over my head?" The tension returned to the small cell, confirming his suspicion. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't off you right now, Killer."
"Well, you do like my name."
His manic grin widened a bit, "There is that. But it's gonna take more than that to save your ass. That bottle fuckin' hurt, man."
"It was to get you in here-"
"You've gotta be kidding me!" He snarled, "You wanted to get me arrested?! I shouldn't waste the boot lace, I'm gonna beat the crap out of you."
"Would you let me finish before you throw another tantrum?" Killer snapped, earning a glare. "I needed to get you alone away from prying eyes and ears. Do you know how much this little endeavor has cost? I had to pay off the whole precinct!"
That was a bit of a shock. He settled back on his bench, "Alright, you've got me here. Why?"
"Have you heard of the group called 'The Resistance', lead by Dragon and Roger?"
"Yeah, who hasn't? They're serious players, man."
"I'm in the resistance." Killer paused and let that sink in before continuing. "I was sent to scout you, see if you'd be worth asking to join up with us. We've been watching you, Roger's been impressed, actually. Dragon, well, he thinks you're a bit nuts."
"Thank him for me." Eustass grinned. He might not be the most stable guy around, but getting people to think you were crazy meant they tended to underestimate you.
Killer smirked back, "You can thank him yourself. I've followed you for a week, you know. Roger gave the okay yesterday to approach you. To ask if you'd join. So, you in?"
"Does that mean I get to keep making fun of your name?"
"Only if I get to make fun of yours."
Kidd thought about it for a moment. He'd never in his dreams imagined he'd attract the attention of the big-leagues when he'd started going after lowlifes back home. Yeah, sure, he wasn't on the up-and-up himself a lot of the time; he hated most governments he'd crossed paths with, but he got that people as a whole were just doing their best. This whole turn of events was a big shock, but in a good way. Though, he was still pissed about the bottle. If he agreed, he could always get Killer back later for it... "Sure, sign me up."
Yes, I gave Killer and Shanks real names. Killer's name translates to "Jack Ripper Killer" in French. Obviously his parents thought they were funny... Shank's name, Shaymus Rua, would be very Irish. There are many ways to spell Shamus (Samus, Saymus, Saemus, you get the idea) I wanted the 'h' though. Shamus means 'the usurper' loosely. Rua is Gaelic for Red, as in a description of a living thing's color (Red fox, not the red box). Makino says "Happy birthday my Shamus Rua." to him in Gaelic. Make of that as you will. ;D
So, in my head, Shanks is obviously Irish. Killer is French, and Kidd is actually from Spain.
The Omake are in time-line order, by the way. Just thought I'd point that out, in case you were wondering. The date occurs about a year before Ace turns 18 and moves out (and Shanks and Whitebeard rework their alliance). No, Makino doesn't recognize the boys, and they don't recognize her because she's in disguise. She thinks Shanks is using a nickname for the older brother.
