I do not own anything besides these words and the cover art.

Hey, all - quick break from the story. I haven't been posting much because life has been getting busy…and scary. I do not know where my readers are from but just…pray for America. I am a big believer in prayer, and as an Indian-American Christian Feminist, the actions I have seen in the past few weeks scream of hate and ignorance. Our "leader" is a Cheeto-faced child who has allowed the rhetoric of abuse and racism to be fashionable and open to the public. Damn free speech, because if your speech is built on and supports the abuses of others then- goodbye. It's scary to think that in 2017, we still need to protest people who hate so much and so openly. If any of my readers agree with such viewpoints, please leave. I won't back down because KKK/white supremacist/Neo-Nazis/fascist/white nationalist ideology is not welcomed by me and especially under the blanket of "they are also good" or "not all blah blah blah". I'm not sorry I lost you…and I just felt like this needed to be said. I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I will keep writing. This is fun for me…a distraction, but I encourage you to use your voice/social media/friends/whatever you have to just call out the villains you see every day. – especially if you have the privilege and power others don't. Seriously, if white people don't call out their own white people then why would hater mongers listen to those they actively want to oppress and hate? Stories are always based on some sense of truth, and I'd hate to see a world where the villains win. That's not a story I want to write, not one I want to read, and not one I want to live in.

Okay, thanks for reading (and supporting). Now, back to your regularly scheduled program!

"Hello?" Nami said with a finger in her ear.

"Why aren't you home?" Arlong's voice was hard.

Nami blamed it on the alcohol in her bloodstream, but she could not care less about Arlong and his incessant need to know her every move. It was his fault that she went in tonight unprepared and ended up bruised and beaten. However, this beating was a fairer fight than when Arlong usually gave her scars. "I can't talk right now."

"Nami!" Arlong was not a patient man.

Nami swallowed hard, "I couldn't go back. We ran into some trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Our opponent tonight was Daz Bones."

"And?"

Nami groaned and exited the noisy bar and felt the chill hit her. "He and his manager were part of Crocodile's Crew."

"Shit!" Nami could almost hear Arlong's mind work through the phone, and he continued, "Okay, shit. Fine. Yeah, stay low. This could get messy."

"Why didn't you fucking tell me then?"

Arlong bit back, "Watch your mouth, Nami. I don't answer to you. I think your lack of seeing me makes you forget how this relationship works. You work for me, remember?"

"Exactly! I was almost killed tonight, Arlong. Me and Zoro! And you couldn't tell me you were talking to this freaking crime syndicate?"

Arlong waited until Nami's huffs died down, and he answered with a cold tone, "You're right. When I try to collaborate with a fucking underground crime family, I pull up their resumes and shit on Google then I make sure to text it to everyone. Huh? What did you think, Nami? How could I possibly know what any member of their gang looks like? The fucking government barely knows the shit they are in, so congratu-fucking-lations for being the smartest dumb person in the room! Besides that, this was a secret meeting. I was trying to set something up and they kept dodging me."

Nami tried not to react to his belittling of her, so she spoke softly, "Well, now, I'm dodging them."

"Crash at Zoro's then. It seems you're looking for an excuse." The tone of his emphasis was sarcastic and Nami grew flustered.

"Arlong, I-"

"Nami, I don't give a shit who you sleep with. As long as you don't forget who you belong to."

"Y-yes, Arlong," Nami said quietly.

"Good girl. Now go get some rest…or don't. I'll call you with any updates."

"Okay." Nami shut the phone and heard Zoro calling for her.

She turned to see him stumble out of the bar, "Oi, witch. I can't celebrate on my own!"

He stretched his arm out to her and flinched as his sore muscles grew weary at the task, but the alcohol numbed it. His face was a looked a bit swollen in places, and his entire body was as if it was made of liquid held together by old hinges. Nami caught him and as she steadied him, she chuckled. "Hey there, Lightweight. Looks like you need to get bandaged up."

"Oh my God, what is this?" Zoro said with a smirk as he leaned into her.

"What?" Nami asked as she caught his chest.

He put his head to the side; the dim light from the streetlamps illuminated his black and blue bruises, tints of red highlighted where wounds were still fresh. "You want to be all in my business?"

Nami took his chin and inspected the marks of the fight, "Zoro, I insist. You are my business."

Zoro hesitated for a moment but spoke in a whisper, the faint smell of beer on his tongue hinted to Nami that he had more liquid courage in him than sense because his arms looped around her waist and pulled her close. "Please don't blame me for whatever happens next."

Nami tried to peel away, her giggle dying down as she took in Zoro's expression. She chuckled but was distracted by his cut lips, "We…we don't have time right now."

Zoro responded in a husky low tenor, "It ain't my fault…you, you keep turning me on. Got me so gone. It ain't my fault I'm not leaving alone..." His face came closer and closer with every word.

Nami found her arms reaching for his neck and pulled herself up, "No. I-I can't be responsible. And I know wherever you're at…is exactly where I wanna be. But…but…don't blame me…"

They were right about to touch when both of them groaned and looked down to see that all their stretching and swaying irritated Zoro's bruised ribs and Nami's leg injury. Nami took the moment to move back down and focused on the floor. Zoro took in her sore muscles and minor injuries. However, even if they were minor, he blamed the alcohol for his inability to control himself, because neither of them was in any condition to pursue things further. Even though every fiber of his being wanted to.

Nami snickered, "You just made me trip, fall, and land on your lap, huh? Certain bad boy smooth, body hotter than a sauna?"

Zoro swayed and tried to maintain his grip on her, but she quickly slipped through his fingers, "I'm looking and I…I like what I'm seeing, so if I put your hands where my eyes can't see…then you're…the one who's got a hold on me."

Nami playfully pushed him and moved towards the parking lot. Her steps were shaky as she limped, but she managed to call for him, "Come on, dirty Shakespeare. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Couldn't stop right now, even if I wanted," he shouted after her but followed her regardless. "Besides and…I don't mean to be rude, but I look so damn good on you."

Nami turned and gave him a look of both amusement and piqued curiosity. She was not exactly ready to seal the deal, but it was fun to play this game with him. Nami resigned herself to enjoy their time now because after the night she just had, she deserved it. As always, Zoro had a way of making her feel so shocked. She was in a muted pain from her encounter with Paula and frustrated over Arlong and his inability to share information, and yet, she could find time to joke. Even when she knew full well that his body took much more of a beating than normal, she wanted to play with him…if only to appease some deep-seated desire she was allowing herself to listen to more and more.

For Nami, that proved that she was not too far-gone. That her past did not define her, at least not completely. She clutched the keys in her hands and smiled over her shoulder in response to Zoro, "Oh, well that's too bad…cause then it really ain't my fault!"

Music Inspiration/Theme: "Ain't My Fault" (Zara Larsson)