Day 6: Mistletoe; DrakeLaw
Drake is always getting Law out of tough situations, am I right?
The North Blue, more than any other sea, was superstitious. Every island and every people had far too many rituals and traditions to ward off bad luck, evil spirits, and just trouble in general. And despite Drake's many years of trying to move away from his roots, away from tossing salt over his shoulder, of trying to always walk on the left side of a black cat, and other things that made his friends give him odd looks, he could never quite shake it.
In this case, as he squeezed through a narrow rocky passage, cold stone pressing against his back, Drake regretted not doing more to ward off bad luck. Especially the pirate kind. The passage slowly opened up ahead of him, giving him a little breathing room. Sunlight lit the granite walls as he squeezed out and onto a rocky outcropping overlooking a pit.
Arms dealers, ones he'd been tracking for months. The corner of his lips turned up sharply. He'd finally found their secret warehouse. He crept forward on his belly, the rough stone scuffing up his white Navy suit. Vines and precarious trees sprouted from the rocks, casting odd shadows down below.
Drake watched men wearing Joker's symbol scramble around on the ground below, moving boxes, counting ammo. At least thirty of them. Great, that was going to be a pain. No way he could fit 30 of his men through the passageway he'd just spent over an hour squeezing through. But to go in alone… he could do it, but it would be, as Hina would say, Stupid. She'd box his ears for that one.
As he continued watching his targets, a peculiar sensation crept across his skin, like a film passed over him. In the millisecond it took for Drake to realize what was happening, there was a pop of displaced air and a pebble next to him vanished. In its place was the last person Drake wanted to deal with.
"Not you, why is it always you?" he grumbled.
"Nice to see you too Drake-ya," Trafalgar Law grinned at him from under the brim of his hat. Drake gave him a glare. This was the fourth time in less than a week. For the last few months, he could hardly go longer than a few days without running into this little bastard. Then they would fight, trade barbed words, Drake would chase him off, and the process would repeat. Practically clockwork at this point.
"Are you following me Trafalgar?" he grunted.
"You always ask, and the answer hasn't changed. The world is bigger than you," Trafalgar quipped, sidling closer and peeking over the edge.
"Hn, I have a plan to deal with these morons, you interested, Drake-ya?" Golden eyes flicked to his blue ones, a devilish look to them, an attractively mean curl to his lips.
"Why do you always need my help? Last time it was getting out of a sinking ship, before that it was with those people needing medical supplies… I am a Navy man you know," Drake sighed, refocusing on the scene below as a couple of men began loading a cannon into a crate.
"Maybe I just have a thing for kind marines."
Drake's head whipped around so fast he nearly hurt himself, spluttering at Law, his face turning bright red. Had a thing for-?! Kind?! "I've tried to arrest you more than one hun-!" Drake froze. There, above them: red berries and green pointy leaves. Mistletoe.
Dread and that old funny feeling fluttered in his stomach, the kind associated with never walking under a ladder, with knocking on wood, with never fully admitting something out loud for fear of karmic repercussions.
Law's eyebrows furrowed and he followed Drake's eye line. He too froze, staring at the innocent looking little sprig. "...Drake-ya, are you familiar with the old wives tales about mistletoe?" he asked in a strangled whisper.
Which ones? The ones about princesses who refused the old traditions and ended up with their heads cut off? Or the ones about those who didn't listen to their partners or mothers or every other possible connection and didn't kiss under the mistletoe inevitably having some horrible misfortune befalling them?
"They are just superstitions…" he mumbled, but continued to stare at it in dread.
"Of course, but…" Law trailed off. They looked at one another. A slight blush turned Law's tan skin a pretty darker shade. Drake wondered if he looked the same, or more likely, based on the way his cheeks began to feel, if they were the same color as his hair.
"...B-but just in c-case," Drake felt like his throat was closing up. They looked at one another, inching closer. Closer. Their noses brushed. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss a pirate? He could feel Law's breath on his face. Or rather, this particular pirate? Over a silly old superstition? It was just a plant, it couldn't really harm them…
Their lips touched. Slightly chapped, warm. They stared at one another for the longest second of Drake's entire life then jolted apart, looking in opposite directions. Anywhere but at one another. He felt far too warm all over. He snuck a glance at Law, who was as pink as him. Drake cleared his throat. "You said you had a plan?"
"What?"
"A plan?" Drake gestured at the goings on still happening down below them. Law blinked, shook his head. The dazed look in his eyes faded. Too bad, Drake rather liked it, and that thought made him feel too warm all over again.
"Yes, a plan," Law muttered, then proceeded to lay out the whole thing. Neither of them commenting on the way their hands slowly brushed together.
Notes:
Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate. I hope you are surrounded by love and family and good cheer. And some mistletoe. :)