A/N- Kid gives off incredible amounts of fuckboy energy, and I honestly don't see him having a single clue what to do with the opposite sex besides sticking his dick in them and throwing his weight around. Sorry buddy, you don't get the "Magically amazing at sex" fanfiction pass. Suffer, scrublord.

A bottle of old scotch was plonked on the table, right under Sunnie's nose. Dust particles tickled him, and he pinched his nostrils to supress a sneeze while shooting his Captain a questioning glance.

"Just fucking take it." Was all the explanation he received, Kid storming away and leaving the dining room's current occupants in stunned silence for a moment.

"Hm, I think that's the closest to a 'thank you' we're going to get" Wire quipped, eyeing the bottle as his mohawked friend essentially tore it open.

"Oh this is way better than a thank you- Who wants a swig?" He offered, taking one for himself and letting out an 'oof' at the way aged alcohol evaporated against his tongue.

There, he'd thanked them. They'd get the message, and if they didn't then at least they had one of the best bottles from his stash to distract them from asking about the gesture. It's not that he was opposed to being up front with his crew, a quick 'cheers boys' for assistance with menial tasks or for delivered share of wealth, but that wouldn't fly here, and the idea of explaining himself and admitting why he was thanking them stalled any willingness to do so. This was his compromise, and they better appreciate it- Old scotch is disgustingly expensive.

With less guilt holding him back, Beau's own admission that she enjoyed giving him such attention, and her unexpected understanding of how he internally doubted his worth, Kid was quickly becoming more compliant. Behind the closed door of shared quarters he'd often roll onto his back, dragging her with him to lay atop solid torso as one hand tangled in her hair, the other resting at her back and occasionally tracing shapes over her shoulder blades. She would purr, surprising herself the first time it happened as Kid confessed to prior discovery, before she too began running fingers through his red locks. Again and again she would reassure that he was her favorite person, and that she loved his hands and his arms and everything else about him for the way they soothed old aches and helped her feel safe.

Sleeping in this position became a regular occurrence whenever the weather permitted, though morning wood proved an awkward topic to explain. Beau had stretched one morning and yelped, feeling Kid's embarrassment poke at her thigh as she shook while expecting the worst. With an awkward sigh, he'd carefully pushed her off of his chest and rolled to the side, propped up on an elbow to explain one of nature's cruel jokes. Green eyes watched him carefully, but he renewed promises of safety and choice until she willingly curled herself against him to weep for awful memories. He couldn't blame her for such a response, nor could he blame himself for basic biology though it still tinted his cheeks with shame each time.

As brief but powerful snowstorms slowed their ship to a crawl, it was only a matter of time before the Captain ran out of distractions, desperately trying to entertain his brain by tinkering with everything he had on hand, eventually causing several arguments as he took to 'improving' items that genuinely didn't need it just to give himself something to do. When he failed to convince Killer he should be allowed to 'beef up that sad old coffee grinder', he found himself stuck- There was nothing new for his brain to pick at, and with no land in sight, Kid was suddenly subject to every unruly thought he'd forced back for the past five weeks at sea. With one hand buried in his hair, the other rapped lacquered fingers against his work bench, annoyed but unable to stop himself from overthinking his current predicament.

Ok, so he definitely wanted more from Beau. There was no way he could avoid admitting that to himself at this point, especially when the pull had only gotten worse instead of fading how he'd hoped. There were two problems with this- He barely knew what he wanted, and Beau herself couldn't consent to any of it. He would watch her lips as she spoke, and knew he wanted them against his own, badly, but then what? It's not as if he practiced sweet kisses with the ladies he hired, and frankly he had no idea what to really do beyond that initial pressing of lips. Should he stick his tongue in her mouth? Bite at her bottom lip the same way she always did? Would his lipstick paint her mouth a similar shade once they pulled apart?- Time out, he was getting carried away.

But his brain had no mercy and it continued to torment the man in silence. He'd never looked at her the same way he looked at other women of appropriate age- From their first encounter she'd been meek, frail, and seeing her flesh bruised and torn had made him feel sick to his stomach. She lacked the inner sass and drive to flirt that helped a girl for hire catch his attention, and in a way it was like his brain simply forgot she was a woman herself, tiny and timid and curling into herself rather than flaunting bodily assets to attract business. Simply put, he'd felt no desire to bed her, and was initially certain he never would.

The first time he noticed any change in this fact, he was mortified with himself, stiffening to innocent kiss under a certain part of his jaw and mentally playing it off as nothing more than a fluke. Beau remained none the wiser, lavishing him with as much attention as ever and initiating physical contact whenever possible, be it in bed or while seated in the dining room or on a couch in the common room, occasionally even braving her way up to the crow's nest to join him during scheduled watch with a snack to share. The more time he spent around her, the more often he found himself craving skin to skin contact, and it sickened him to think of her beneath him in the same ways he preferred positioning hired company. He knew prostitutes were paid to pretend, and he never lost sleep at night over whether or not he'd pleased them with more than his wallet, well aware that they were in it for pleasure just as much as he was in it for emotional attachment. Chasing his own release was all he'd ever bothered with, aware that his size was a challenge for the unprepared and bluntly requesting that if they thought it too much, they say so up front and point him towards someone who could take it.

It felt obscene to picture Beau in such a way, she'd be tiny and scared and he'd no idea how to avoid hurting her, nor did he have any idea how to make her feel good. He'd never had a reason to care before, never wanted to take the time to pleasure whoever lay beneath him, but in every undesired fantasy where Beau clung to him and cried his name he found himself wanting those reactions to be real. He wanted her to open up for him, to moisten under his touch, to dig her fingers into his back and arch up against him for more, pleading, begging, panting- He was doing it again. Frustrated fingers pulled at red locks, a growl vibrating out of his chest as he shamed himself. What the fuck was he thinking? Even if she found someone sweet for herself who knew how to be gentle, he doubted she'd ever even want to partake in such a thing, not after the way she'd been forced to live. He couldn't just think of her like some kind of sex doll, couldn't sit here and picture her with her knees against her chest, happily having her brains fucked out when it couldn't be further from the truth.

His promise with Killer was the final nail in that proverbial coffin, finally understanding why his friend had insisted on it. He knew Kid better than anyone, and probably saw such a situation coming miles before anyone else did- Not that he would've ever believed him. If his friend had tried to explain, Kid simply would've laughed in his face and called him a madman, why would he lust after a trembling little runt? But now that thoughts of such an act genuinely did plague him, he understood- It wasn't that he wanted her body, he wanted her. It had nothing to do with her sex appeal (Or in his view, lack thereof), and everything to do with the million different things she forced him to feel, until her cute appearance and innocent gestures began turning him on despite internal protest, and he hated his body for responding.

Regardless of unruly thoughts or personally admitted desires, he knew one thing for certain- There was no way in hell he could tell her. Neither his softer interests nor filthy fantasies could ever be openly discussed with her, she'd immediately clam up again and shake in fear, afraid that denying him what he wanted would result in something worse. It wasn't her fault, she'd spent her whole life being treated as less than a person, and just under three months on his ship wasn't enough to correct deeply ingrained lies. The little pipsqueak still spoke of herself in the third person, not as a show of arrogance but as conditioned pattern, unable to address herself the same way anyone else would because to do so would be to behave like a someone, and in her eyes she was still a no one. As long as she was incapable of denying him, she was also incapable of giving consent, and he absolutely refused to abuse the power he held over her.

The kitchen was always a much less stressful place than Kid's workshop, currently filled with the sounds of cooking as both Killer and Beau prepared afternoon meal. Colder days required heartier foods, and so stew was back on the menu despite it's usual place as an evening meal. When the pair weren't busy chattering away, Beau would hum, and as always the crew's drunkenly belted shanties and ballads were her songs of choice. It was cute, really, that she'd picked up on the tunes and mindlessly hummed them to herself, tail swishing lightly to the rhythm behind her as Killer wondered if such movement was done consciously or not. He waited for her to finish dishing various bowls of steaming rice before asking-

"Beau? Could I borrow you for a minute?" Was his request, quickly slicing a spare cucumber into the appropriate shape for snacking on and spreading the sticks on a plate.

"Of course" Came eager reply, assuming he wanted her to watch the pot as they often traded tasks.

When he gestured for her to sit with him and help herself to light green vegetable, she eyed him curiously, but sat as asked and began nibbling on the mild flavored snack.

"I was wondering if you'd given any thought to the way you were forced to speak?" He asked, picking up several pieces of his own and allowing them to disappear through the holes in his mask.

Beau lowered her eyes for a moment, nerves threatening to reject the small amount of cucumber that now settled in her belly. She took a moment to breathe and remind herself who she was with- It was alright, Killer was her friend, he'd never been anything other than kind and encouraging towards her, and had no problems pulling Kid in line when he was being pig headed about something. This person was safe to speak her mind around.

"Mmm, she thinks about it sometimes..." She admitted, faint blush dusting her cheeks, "But then she remembers lots of awful things, and she gets scared... Mop Face is dead, Beau knows that, she knows he can't punish her for behaving like a person, but it still..." She bit at her bottom lip, eyes moving to Killer's mask as she heard the man sigh.

"That's understandable, no one's going to be angry at you for taking your time. It's ok to say no, but could I ask you to repeat something after me?"

A short pause of consideration followed, before Beau nodded her agreement.

"Alright, let's start with something simple then... 'My eyes are green', it's ok if you change your mind"

"M-my eyes are green" She repeated, confused by the request but willing to humor it.

"How about, 'Only my left eye is green'"

"Only m-my l-left eye is green" She repeated.

Killer nodded in approval, and slowly extended a hand to place upon her head, smiling lightly to himself at how gentle praise brought her joy as opposed to the fear she used to wear.

"I know it may not seem like it, but you're already half way there," He pointed out, watching her tilt her head in confusion before continuing, "Even if you were using it differently, you can already make the right sounds. 'my eye' is one step away from 'I am', isn't it?"

Brown ears immediately perked in surprise, never having thought of it that way as they were spelled entirely differently and held separate meanings.

"S-so, should Beau try to- Umm-" She attempted to ask, anxious fingers fiddling with each other on the table.

"If you'd like to. You don't have to push yourself" He reassured.

A deep breath was taken in an attempt to swallow down lifelong fear, before finally, quietly, she whispered out-

"I- I'd like to try"

Immediately she recoiled, shoulders hunched as she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the punishment memory promised. Any moment now he'd reach out and strike her, put her in her place for speaking out of turn and reveal it was all nothing more than a cruel joke for personal amusement. Expected blows never came to be, Killer instead reaching for another slice of cucumber and loudly crunching it behind his mask, allowing her the necessary time to understand that she was safe without repeating words already spoken a thousand times.

"I-it's really alright? No one's going to- You won't get angry?" She asked, biting her lip once more as she braved to open her eyes.

"Of course not, you're learning to value yourself and that's a good thing. No one's going to take an issue with that- If anything they'll be thrilled"

"Th-they will?"

"Absolutely," He stressed, "How about this, we'll get both your lunch and Kid's served up, and you can show him your progress in person. It's alright if you find you're too scared, it can stay our secret until you're ready if that's what you'd prefer"

And so Beau found herself standing outside the door to Kid's workshop, tray in hand as she hesitated to knock. Not wanting his food to grow cold before consumption, she swallowed the lump in her throat and gently tapped her knuckles against wooden door while balancing the tray carefully in her other hand.

"What." Came gruff reply from within. He seemed irritated.

With her heart almost leaping out of her chest for the second time that day, Beau braced thin fingers either side of metal tray and announced-

"U-umm, I brought lunch"

The gentler knock should've clued him in that it was Beau on the other side of the door, and he almost hounded himself for snapping until he heard her speak. Did he just imagine that? No, he wasn't crazy, he knew what he'd heard. Rising to his feet, Kid opened his door without responding, peering down silently at her as she dug sharp teeth into her bottom lip.

"Uh- Two bowls?" Was all he managed to say, noticing the half sized meal beside his own.

"Oh, Beau was- I mean- it's umm-" She stammered, courage draining the longer she attempted to keep it up.

Kid stepped aside and allowed her into his workshop, watching her shoulders shake as she deposited the tray before returning to face him. Green eyes darted nervously between various objects on the floor, and he slowly stepped forwards. He wasn't sure how to respond to her attempts, words remaining his point of weakness as he decided against cheesy one liners such as 'Good job, sport' and 'Nicely done'. Action was how always expressed himself, and so he cupped both sides of her face, tilted her head till anxious green met his yellow, and placed a firm, drawn out kiss against her brow. A shuddered sigh escaped her as the tension left, once more reassured that she wouldn't be punished as affection graced her in it's place.

"Guessing that's yours?" He asked, gesturing towards the tray with a nod.

"Ah- and yours! Bea-I can't eat all of that"

Grinning at her continued attempts, he let go of plump face and threw himself down in the reinforced wheelie chair, offering out an arm of invitation for her to climb upon his lap. She did so immediately, rubbing the top of her head against the underside of his chin appreciatively for her ever present safety. He'd been forced to make up some story about what he'd worked on that day, describing an old motorized scooter in great detail as she ate quietly and granted him her full attention. At meal's end she simply curled against him, listening to the rumble of his voice through warmest chest as the weight of rice and stew left her feeling heavy against him.

The fact that she could fall asleep like this still surprised him, no matter how many times it happened. She'd be on his lap in the dining room or laying against his side in the common room, and more often than not her breathing would even out and she'd be out like a light, dozing away peacefully despite whatever boisterous bullshit carried on around her. It felt like such a stark contrast to every other aspect of his life- This tiny little thing was curled up asleep against him, the man with the highest current bounty out of the worst generation of Supernovas, someone who enjoyed solving his problems with violence and genuinely looked forward to the next fight at sea. And she knew that, she was well aware of his penchant for brutality and his willingness to kill, but she'd still lay across his chest at night and trace his chin with butterfly kisses, sighing happily in his arms before telling him yet again that he was her favorite person in the world.

Evening came, and with Killer's kitchen helper nowhere to be found, the blonde quickly poked his head into both the dining room and common area, finding no trace of either her or the Captain, though he'd still expect Kid to be hiding away in his workshop. Quietly making his way to check there instead, he carefully opened the door to find his friend leaning back in comfortably padded work chair, feet propped up against the bench with one arm slung lazily over the little lady that slept against him. Leaving them in peace, he decided to handle dinner's preparations on his own like he'd done before Beau's arrival, sending J.C. down to wake them only once it was time to eat.

Slowly, and with varied levels of positive reinforcement from different members of the crew, Beau became more comfortable with speaking as a regular person would. She still slipped often, particularly when nervous or startled, but no one ever mentioned it or got mad at her, carrying on their conversations as if it hadn't happened and giving her the chance to try again. In turn, the half Mink expressed her gratitude by lavishing more softness on those comfortable with physical attention, at times finding herself seated on Sunnie or Heat's laps if the Captain hadn't already claimed her for himself.

With the erratic weather dragging their current voyage out towards the two month mark, Kid grew restless. A month or so was to be expected, but the New World's climate seemed to have other plans as it repeatedly forced them to tie down their sails or risk losing a mast. The weaker paddle propellers at his ship's rear kept them moving at the very least, but progress was slow and hardly anyone crossed their path to offer up some excitement. A sleepy huff of breath against his chest distracted the man, and he turned his gaze towards the woman sleeping soundly atop his torso as if he were her personal mattress. Instead of the sleep softened features he expected to see, Beau's face was scrunched into a tight frown, evidently upset by whatever scenario her brain played out via dreams. He considered letting it pass on it's own, but a quiet whine was all it took to convince him otherwise, and so he laced his fingers back into her hair and ran them along her scalp, gaining a frown of his own as she flinched away from the touch.

"Hey- Come on, you're just dreamin', it ain't real" he assured.

The rumble of Kid's voice against her cheek and the feeling of fingers in her hair were enough to pull her from unpleasant dreams, Beau waking with a gasp and a yelp as she pushed herself away from him and sat upon her knees, dazed for a moment as watery eyes darted around moonlit room. Pushing himself into his own seated position, Kid simply held a hand out to her, palm up and waiting until she was ready to take it. Two smaller hands shakily grasped it, erratic breaths deafening in the night's cold silence, and he slowly pulled her back towards him.

"Beau doesn't- She's just- I can't-" She tried to voice current thoughts, but all that came out were babbled attempts at combining past fears with present speech, eventually settling on a stressed whine instead as Kid rubbed free hand against her back.

"It's fine, just breathe"

And so she did, clinging tightly to the hand he'd offered her while his other palmed her back, eventually gaining the composure needed to scooch herself against him.

"Wanna talk about it?" He wasn't sure why he offered, but he wouldn't take it back.

"I- I thought it was strange that there's no brand on her-my body, even though Faust said I was born in Mariejois..." She began, shaking at the recollection of seemingly repressed memory, "They- I think the man that owned us didn't brand children until we were all a certain age? They were all- There was a line of us a-and these people would force a hot iron to their skin, like a circle w-with four little triangles, and when they put it o-on Bea- On me it- They got so angry because it healed, I think my master had already g-given all of us d-different fruits to eat, it kept healing and th-they kept trying and it b-burned o-over and over-"

A choked sob interrupted babbled recount, and Kid was quick to wrap free arm around her middle in offered security, allowing her to cry herself out against his chest as she squeezed his hand desperately, afraid to let go. By the time she settled to sniffles, a quiet rage settled across her friend's features, and he buried his face in her hair to promise-

"If you ever recognize a single one of those fuckers, I don't care where we are, I want you to tell me. I'll kill them."

She nodded in response, finally releasing his hand to instead wrap her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly as he returned the favor with strong arms secured around her back. When her breathing calmed, Kid lay back down, allowing her to settle into their usual cold weather position as she released his neck.

"Captain?"

"Mm?"

"Do you have memories from when you were little?"

An innocent question, as all of hers were. Kid felt his heart thumping loudly in protest as myriad awful images flashed through his mind, and at first he was hesitant to ever acknowledge them out loud- But she'd just told him a painful memory of her own, even if it had been dug up by dreams. Sighing through his nose, he made up his mind to answer.

"Yeah, lots. Killer and I kinda... Grew up in a junk yard. It was rough, but we made it work, and it turned us into the tough sons of bitches that we are now so it's not like I can really complain" He muttered. He heard Beau let out a sympathetic hum, before replying with-

"I hope you can make lots of nice memories together, to make up for all the bad ones"

It took him by surprise, but then again, the things she said often had that effect.

"That's the plan" He offered back with a chuckle, feeling her palms on his chest as she pushed up to look at him.

"I thought the plan was for you to become the Pirate King?" She asked, head tilted slightly as damp cheeks caught moonlight's glisten.

"Well- Yeah, but there ain't much point to it if we don't have some fuckin' fun on the way" He explained, offering her an eye-roll though his smirk denoted amusement.

Settling herself back down, Beau felt a yawn escape her as interrupted sleep attempted to reclaim prior hold.

"Mm, I think being around everyone on the ship is lots of fun, it's like having a family" She mumbled, unaware that the sentiment was shared.

"Yeah?" He muttered back.

The redhead received no response as she drifted off once more, peaceful this time as uninvited terrors remained in the past where they belonged.