Hi! Here's another drabble I had sitting around. I wanted to write more, so there may eventually be a part 2, but for now, I figure some is better than none. Hope everyone's hanging in there! All the best!
"The pantry's empty," Thatch told Marco, opening the doors fully to make his point. Marco frowned at him.
"You never use food in your pranks," the blond mused, examining the empty shelves.
"It's not a prank!" Thatch would never use not having enough food as a prank. "I've got my Division fishing, but we can't just live on fish for the foreseeable future."
"Do we have rats?" Thatch snorted at Marco's question, earning a raised brow in reply.
"If the rat's name is Ace, then yes."
"You think Ace ate the entire pantry?" Marco questioned, turning to him. "In one night?" Considering the number of people they stocked food for, his brother's disbelief was reasonable.
"Who else could it be?" Thatch asked, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "The kid's too damn paranoid to eat food we give him, but he's a D. He can probably eat more than anyone on the ship, except Pops. He must be starving."
"Teach is a D," Marco pointed out, but Thatch shook his head.
"Teach eats as much as Jozu," Thatch admitted, "but I saw a D eat once after a fight and they ate more than Teach and Jozu combined." Marco was staring incredulously at him and if Thatch wasn't seriously considering how he was going to keep his newest brother fed - never mind that he was still launching daily attacks against Pops - he would have laughed at the eldest's expression.
"I'll have Jozu do a grocery run," Marco told him. "Make a list."
"Do we know where their old cook ended up?" Marco frowned at the question.
"Moby 3, why?" Thatch shrugged.
"They obviously figured out how to keep Ace fed. It's not the same right now because Ace won't eat what I'm offering, but…"
"We'll go to the Communications Room," Marco offered, turning to lead the way. Thatch trailed after his brother, happy he wasn't the eldest. When Marco said he wanted the room, it cleared. They might be family, but he was still Marco and his voice was heard. Thatch whistled in appreciation.
"They don't do that when I ask for the room," he commented. Marco snorted.
"That's because the last time someone left you alone in here, you got all the den-dens drunk."
"Hey! That was a good idea!" Thatch protested, because drunk den-dens made for the funniest calls. Marco gave him a flat look, but Thatch knew him well enough to see the humour lurking in his eyes.