Not What You Think

Word Count: 2200


"There's something I want to ask you."

Marco's voice floated lightly over Ace's shoulder, and the younger man turned slightly. The First Division Commander was leaning against the outer wall of the main deck meeting room, calm blue eyes fixed on Ace who remained by the railing, watching the sea.

Ace absorbed Marco's tone automatically, noting both the lightness and the word choice used. Semi-serious then. Absently trying to remember if he'd done anything he shouldn't have, Ace turned around fully, resting his elbows on the railing but facing Marco. "What's up, Birdy?"

Marco snorted at the name, coming forward to stand next to him and lightly swatting at Ace's cowboy hat, sending it off his head to rest against his back. "Such cheek, yoi."

"I blame Thatch," Ace said with a firm nod. "He did it."

"Called me names?"

"Told me you preferred 'Birdy' over 'Pineapple'," Ace corrected.

"...And if I told you I wanted to be called Marco?"

Ace plopped his hat back on his head, grinning sharply up at the commander from underneath it. "Then you should have told me a long time ago. They say it takes twenty-one days for something to become a habit, you know."

Marco rolled his eyes and smacked the hat again, making Ace complain noisily until it was fixed on his head properly. "It's nice to see you and Thatch working things out so well."

Ace nodded slowly. "It's going to take time… part of me is still angry, but, you know. I'll deal." Ace shook his head and clapped his hands to his face once, before looking back at Marco. "So, what did you want to ask me?"

Marco didn't answer at first, apparently preferring to stare out at the sea like Ace had been doing. It was a kind of habit, for a lot of people onboard actually, to watch the sun set or rise in the New World. The sight in any of the Blues was a nice one, but here in the New World, the sheer range of colors presented in the evening was unbelievable. Pinks, purples, oranges, blues - even greens blended and reflected across every surface, showing off their hues to the world until finally the blues and purples overwhelmed the lighter pastels as the sun dipped below the horizon line, leaving a deep inky blue-black filled with glittering stars.

Ace inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of the sea, and releasing his breath just as the sun finished its descent. "Beautiful," he said softly. "I never get tired of it."

"Me neither," Marco said, his upturned face glowing softly under the pale light and Ace grinned, listening to the waves lap up against the Moby far below.

Ace gave him another minute before turning to face him, eyebrow raised. "Well? What did I do now?"

Marco blinked, and a soft grin unfurled across his face. "What are you willing to confess?"

"Nothing. Last time you used your tricksy, tricksy words, I wound up accidentally ratting out Curiel - and he and Rakuyo chased me up the main mast." Ace folded his arms, giving the commander a pout. "I missed dinner because of that! Thatch threatened to throw a spatula at me when I tried to raid the fridge later. I'm not falling for this again."

Marco chuckled at that, and then glanced down at Ace's belt; specifically, his eyes lingered on the jeweled dagger that Ace kept in its near-mint condition green sheath. "I wanted to ask you about that."

Ace tilted his head, confused for a moment. Then he looked from Marco's face to his dagger and back again, before another sigh escaped him. "Oh."

"You had to know I was going to ask," Marco said softly. "After what you said…"

His voice trailed off and Ace winced. Ah yes. His famous retort about his dagger, and how it wasn't meant for using on animals or food. With his mental health having been called into question over the past couple of weeks, particularly after a poorly chosen prank by Thatch, it seemed his every word was being picked over by Marco with a fine-toothed comb. "It's not what you're thinking."

"I hope it's not," Marco replied, his blue eyes aimed at Ace's own silver ones with a laser-like focus, and Ace fought back a blush at the sheer concern radiating from his friend.

It was slightly embarrassing to be at the center of that intensity, but at the same time, it was good - it reminded him that Marco cared. "You're thinking about when I told you this dagger was meant for something else," Ace murmured, fingering the dagger's handle lightly. "You thought I meant it was to kill myself with?"

At Marco's tiny flinch, Ace pulled the dagger out and lay it on the railing, giving Marco a full, close glimpse. The dagger had jewels embedded into the hilt - small ones, but no doubt valuable. The brace and inlay were all lined in gold; gold and silver etchings trailing up the blade looking almost like hamon markings. It was more a piece of art, Ace surmised, looking over it himself, then an actual efficient blade.

Ace was known for being practical at his core, and carrying around such an impractical item probably made a lot of people curious. He pushed it along the railing to Marco, who studied it almost grimly, before leveling his gaze back at Ace.

"It's really not what you're thinking," Ace repeated. Marco didn't say anything but continued to eye him warily, and Ace nodded at the dagger. "What do you think that's worth?"

Marco blinked at him, glanced at the dagger, and raised one eyebrow. "You trying to tell me that's your emergency stash, yoi?"

Ace burst out laughing at the idea as he hopped up on the railing. "Like I'd be able to sell it for what it's actually worth," he snorted and picked up the dagger, sliding it out of the sheath. "Go on, check it out."

Still eying him, Marco nonetheless grasped the handle and studied it carefully, eyes tracing the etchings and jewels. Tiny, perfect emeralds along the guard, dusty pink topaz gems dotting the end, blue-white diamonds studded everywhere one could be placed. The sheath itself was nothing special - dirt and life-worn green leather. It didn't match the opulence of the dagger itself, which made sense, considering Ace had grabbed only the weapon at the time.

Ace watched as Marco ran his fingers along the hilt, testing the structure and integrity. His blue eyes widened as he realized something.

"Solid gold?"

Ace nodded.

"Even with haki, that won't last long against a decent hit," Marco commented, the wariness settling down and his natural curiosity making a comeback. "You can't fight with that."

"Nope," Ace said agreeably.

"Doesn't mean it can't be used," Marco said, now sounding a bit more confused than concerned. He flicked his finger at the blade. "Sharp."

Ace nodded again. "Check out the sapphire on the pommel - yeah, that one," he said as Marco paused his finger on the gem.

Marco frowned, and brought the dagger back up for a closer look. "...It was added?"

"Yeah - Deuce cut a sapphire from our treasure to fit and had me stick it on over the maker's mark." Ace paused. "Well, what would have been the maker's mark. But we all know these particular owners don't allow anyone to claim anything of theirs." He lifted his chin at Marco. "Go ahead, peel it off. I can always glue it back on later."

Marco carefully pulled the small gem off - and froze, staring at the stamp on the pommel of the dagger.

A soaring hoof.

"You stole this from a Celestial Dragon?" Marco breathed, eyes wide at the infamous red hoof, three triangular claws extending from the top. A symbol known and feared throughout the Grand Line and all four Blues.

Ace shrugged. "Kinda, sorta." He hopped back down to the deck, and nudged his side against Marco's still-frozen one. "You remember what we talked about last week? Who I told you about?"

Marco nodded, pulling his gaze away from the dagger and settling it on Ace's arm, specifically at the x'd out 'S' on his arm symbolizing the pirate flag of a child who never got to set sail in life. "Sabo."

"Mm." Ace stared down at the small weapon. "The Dragon who shot Sabo's ship down… he wound up giving this dagger to the King of Goa as a symbol that they had the Dragon's favor." He snorted. "For now, at least."

"So you stole it from the King?"

Ace shrugged. "I'd heard about it over the years. I still took furs and pelts from the animals Lu and I killed to High Town for their craftsmen, and I'd always overhear people gossiping. The dagger was apparently being displayed under twenty-four hour guard at the castle. Before I left Dawn Island to begin my adventure, I'd already decided that the dagger was perfect for what I wanted it for."

Marco's eyes snapped back to his.

"One day," Ace said very softly, his tone bone-chillingly cold. "I'm going to find the noble who killed my brother. I am going to slit his throat with this dagger and carve out his heart."

Ace watched as Marco's eyes widened fractionally, and then returned to normal. Waited to see what the First Division Commander would do with the knowledge he'd just heard; knowing that Ace had a life goal in mind that could put into jeopardy every person living on the Moby Dick. Every ally. Every friend.

Ace knew what his reputation was like. On board the Moby, he was called charming, charismatic, a good fighter, someone who never backed down and never gave up. Someone who would risk his life in a heartbeat to save his friends and his family. A good person.

A person Ace had become soon after giving up his lifelong dream of taking Whitebeard's head, and becoming part of the family instead. Marco had to be thinking how wrong he was now, how Ace had to be considered unworthy if he was really willing to-

"It's just like you to be so dramatic," came Marco's amused voice.

Ace flicked his eyes at Marco. "What?"

"You had me all worked up over this," Marco said, pushing the dagger back into the sheath and sliding it back to Ace. "I was worried about you slitting your own throat or something."

"I know," Ace said numbly.

"Still, do me a favor?"

"Mm?"

"Run your plan by me before you go off and do something crazy?"

Ace froze in place as Marco's hand suddenly covered his where it was gripping the weapon. "Marco?"

"I can understand," Marco said softly, looking at Ace, maybe looking through Ace for all the younger man knew. "Especially after what you told me last week. I know what Sabo meant to you - what he still means to you. I know you're being serious when you say those words."

Ace swallowed hard. It was painful, the lump in his throat.

"So tell me your plan. Let us help. And if the time comes that we find the Dragon that killed your brother, we will help you. Trust me, there is no shortage of Celestial Dragon haters in the Whitebeard family."

There was a long silence, but it wasn't a difficult one. Ace concentrated on keeping his breathing even, before exhaling sharply. "That's it?"

Marco shrugged and turned back to the sea, watching as a silvery moon continued its slow ascent into the sky. "You're not that unusual, Ace."

Ace watched him.

"I've dreamed of doing the same thing to the Dragon's that had me as a child. Pop's helped me with my revenge for one of them, but the other had just been visiting that…. Day." Marco shook his head. "Anyway, trust me, if there is a way we can do it safely and keep our family safe, we will help you. I promise. For you - " Marco gripped Ace's fingers tightly for a moment. " - and for Sabo."

Ace closed his eyes. For a moment, Sabo's rakish grin flashed through his mind, the sound of his laughter trailing with Luffy's and he wanted to cry.

Then the moment passed. His composure regained, he turned his hand upwards and returned the hold Marco had on his fingers. "For you, too," he said softly.

Marco nodded and released his hand. "For our family who have been hurt," he finished. Marco picked up the dagger and reached out with his free hand to snag at Ace's belt so he could slip the dagger back into the loop Ace kept it on. Then he smiled at Ace. "I'm glad I was wrong."

Ace smiled back. He was too.

o~0~o

End

o~0~o

So I'm on tumblr now, name of stormy1x2 (also under rusamki from years ago that I can't delete but never use knowingly). Drop by and say hi sometime. A lot of One Piece content, some character designs and lots of One Piece headcanons.

I am also contemplating setting up a . Like so many others, lack of work due to shut downs is starting to take its toll, but maybe I can use it to put some plot bunnies to rest. Think of this chapter as my first successful test at forcing myself to write something. :) And it felt good. And if it forces more chapters for TYD, then I don't see a problem.

God damn it, I will accomplish SOMETHING during these forced time off…. :D

before cutting off his head and sticking it on a pike outside of Marineford.