Whew! Once again, sorry for the delay in uploading! I had this all ready to go on Thursday morning, but our internet connection crashed -- This chapter contains OC but he's not very important... Next chapter should be up soon (fingers crossed!) as I've actually already started it. I'm not as pleased with this chapter as I am with the other two; but I figured it was time I got some actually narrative in. I'll see what you think...
If only Ace could have shaken Sanji so easily from his mind. Whatever had possessed him to trek across the desert with them like that? He should have left as soon as he had seen off the Baroque Works ships and gone straight back out to sea. He knew really thatBlackbeard was not in Yuba – of course he bloody well knew! What kind of fool would fall for that? No pirate would have any reason to be so far in land. Well, not unless he was a Strawhat pirate on his way to prevent a civil war… Or the second in command of Whitebeard's fleet, following a certain Strawhat pirate like a lovesick schoolgirl. Ace was rather shaken by the intensity of the feelings that had so suddenly developed for Sanji. He was not a romantic and, while he had had a vague idea in the back of his mind that he'd like to meet someone he could fall in love with one day, he had definitely never believed in love at first sight. He could remember once going to see Romeo and Juliet (he had been seeing the actor who was playing Mercutio) and had thought it was a load of bollocks – the bits he hadn't slept through, anyway. What the Hell was Romeo doing killing himself over some bint he'd known for all of a fortnight? And all that "Lo it is the East…" crap – he'd barely spoken two words to her, how did he know she wouldn't turn out to be a complete cow? But now here he himself was, having spent 72 hours in Sanji's company and knowing, not feeling, knowing, that Sanji was the nearest to perfect a human being could be and if that time had been forever, it wouldn't have been long enough…
Angry with himself for letting his feelings run away with him like that, and trying not to imagine the look on his captain's face were he to hear about it, he made his way straight back to Alubarna and set sail trusting to fate, which usually smiled on him, to steer him to some place where he might pick up some useful information on Blackbeard.
It steered him instead to Schwänzenburg; which had long ago been a quiet, impoverished little fishing village but had prospered during the great age of piracy as a town where pirates could "relax" between bouts of pillaging. It was a place in which one was more likely to pick up the clap than useful information. Ace drew in the flames that powered his engine and let his skiff float along next to the dank and mouldy quay, surveying with dismay the sordid sprawl of buildings, most of which boasted "velvet" curtains and a red light above the door. This was not the sort of place Ace would be caught dead in if he could help it… On the other hand, he was starving. Food triggered his narcolepsy so, although it didn't entirely prevent attacks, he never let himself eat while sailing to minimise the risk. There had to be somewhere in amongst the brothels, bawdy-houses, bordellos and occasional bars that sold food. Ace moored his skiff and jumped ashore. The sun was only just beginning to set, so the inhabitants and guests of the town, veteran creatures of the night, all of them, were only just beginning to emerge above ground and Ace had only encountered two drug dealers, three kerb-crawlers and Pandaman before he found a bar that sold food without any obligation to purchase an accompanying spliff and where the waitresses were only topless, and nothing worse. He attempted to enter the establishment unobtrusively – difficult for a famous pirate with an eight figure bounty and a scantily-clad physique as stunning as Ace's – sat at the bar and ordered the special from the chalkboard.
"Certainly sir," said the barman, in a voice as oily as his hair. "And would sir care to eat it off one of our lovely waitress-"
"A plate would do just fine, thank you," Ace cut in.
"Very good sir," sniffed the barman, rather disappointed. Eating off a waitress cost extra. When he returned from giving Ace's order to the cook, Ace asked him for a double rum - strongest you've got and no ice, please – and set about doing what many a greater and lesser man before has done to forget his sorrows: turning to drink. Fortunately for him he looked so miserable that he was more or less left alone. A couple of the waitresses (who doubled as lap dancers after dark) gyrated round him provocatively for a few minutes but were ignored and soon gave up in disgust when he fell asleep face down in his meal and took themselves off to the other end of the bar. The few pirates and bounty hunters who entered were too far below Ace's standards to even think of approaching him, let alone fighting him; though one decidedly tipsy cabin boy asked for his autograph as a dare and nearly died of shock when Ace absent-mindedly obliged. But apart from them, the only human being he had any contact with for most of the night was the barman, who poked him when he fell asleep and refilled his glass at regular intervals.
The last thing Ace remembered was falling asleep (again) in the middle of a Sanji-related inner monologue. So he was more than a little surprised to find himself awakening in a small bed in dingy little bedsit. He could smell bacon frying. Opening his eyes, he saw a slim young man frying bacon over a single gasring on a table in the corner of the room. "Good morning Captain Firefist," he smiled, and Ace began to remember a few things. How he had been prodded awake to find this person sitting on the barstool next to his, telling it was closing time. Then a blank patch, and suddenly his hand was on Ace's thigh and he was propositioning him – which had suddenly seemed a very attractive idea. In the cold, sober morning light he was as blond and slender and handsome as he had been then. He was not Sanji; Ace had not been so very drunk that he could have thought that, but he had a very nice smile and had been an attentive and obliging lover. His name was… Ace was rather ashamed to find he had forgotten. Luckily it didn't come up. He snuggled back under the blankets with Ace, contentedly stroking his chest and chatting away happily about himself while they ate bacon and toast and drank black coffee. Ace was reminded that he was assistant chef in the bar, which happened to be downstairs when he confided his dream to save up enough money to buy a passage out of Schwänzenburg and apply for a job on the Baratie.
After a little while, he asked: "Don't you want my information, then?"
Not missing a trick, Ace replied: "I didn't come back here just to get information out of you," playing the gentleman card, as he couldn't for the life of him remember what this information might be. His bedfellow glowed with pleasure then related to him the details and approximate whereabouts of a naval fleet that a Marine commander he had spent the night with a week ago had told was collecting intelligence on Blackbeard. Ace was deeply grateful. It sounded plausible, and anything that bought back some of the time he had wasted recently was more than welcome.
After a short pause the boy said a little hesitantly: "Hey, I know this is just a one night stand and everything but…You're not going to run off and act on that information just yet, are you?"
Ace considered for all of 3 seconds before he put his plate down on the floor, rolled the boy over and kissed him. What harm could a few more hours not chasing Blackbeard do?
"Hey Ace…" the boy said, as his thin arms embraced the powerful shoulders. "Who's Sanji?"
Ace froze. "Just – someone," he said lamely. "Why?"
"Oh… nothing. Just you… mentioned him last night," he neglected to add that this had been the name Ace had murmured contentedly as he dropped off to sleep cradling his head tenderly against his chest. And seeing the look on Ace's face now, he wished he'd kept his mouth shut completely. Attempting to make amends, he brushed his lips over Ace's jugular and began gently stroking his muscled stomach. Ace sighed, submitted and was almost reconciled to not having Sanji.
Several hours later saw Ace setting sail, the boy standing on the pier watching him go, having seen him off with a final kiss and some sandwiches for the journey. Ace had finally found out his name, as he had written it down on a little card along with his address in case Ace ever felt like coming back. Courteously, Ace had thanked him for the information and given him his red bead necklace to remember him by, but by the time he was on course for the next island it was not him he was thinking of, or even Blackbeard, but Sanji once more.