"See it's like this but backwards," Vetica explained, pointing to a photograph in her hands, as she and Bartolomeo stood in the practically empty tattoo parlor. "2D crossed out for not to-day, and 3Y for in 3 years."

"Ah, I see-dabe," the man replied, stroking his chin.

"That way if anyone finds it, I can claim that the tattoo artist messed up, and I was trying to commemorate a historical moment."

Bartolomeo nodded. "Smart-dabe."

She took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes. "And you're certain, you want this?"

He grinned, smugly. "We made a deal-dabe."

Vetica sighed, shoved the photo in her top, and approached the heavily inked woman, who was lounging on the counter. Vetica explained what she wanted to the artist, which was received with a motion towards the other side of the shop. Bartolomeo eyes were almost wolfish as he watched her make her way to the table in the corner. Then with a grimace Vetica lifted her skirt and laid down on the table.

As the artist set to work, Bartolomeo snickered from his spot on a nearby table. Vetica raised her brows at him, but it only caused him to laugh even harder. With each stroke of the needle, she regretted the position of her new acquisition more and more. She was certain she wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for days.

"Don't laugh too hard; you're going next," she warned the pirate.

Bartolomeo stopped, but still grinned like a mad man, not attempting to hide the fact he was staring directly at her ass.

"So, what are you two commemorating?" the artist asked, as she wiped excess ink off Vetica's skin. "Anniversary? Engagement?"

Vetica's face grew warm. She turned away from Bartolomeo with a scowl. "Business agreement.

Once her tattoo was finished the artist place some sort of healing balm on it, but Vetica's butt cheek still burned like white fire. She stood and gave room for Barolomeo, who unceremoniously dropped trou before laying down on the table. Vetica shielded her eyes as he received his matching brand.

The sun was high in the sky once they exited the parlor. People, mainly rough types like pirates, were bustling about the streets of the grove. Vetica wrapped the scarf tightly around her head, and reached up a hand to push down Bartolomeo's fedora, as she spotted a familiar looking group of pirates pass by. Bartolomeo gave her a flat look, and she moved her hand down to his arm.

"Should I have let them spot you?" She asked, brows raised.

He grumbled in response, adjusting his hat. "So where to-dabe?"

Vetica looked around. The streets were more crowded than she was expecting, but she supposed that they did need to eat. She spotted a nice-looking restaurant across the street. She reached up a hand to point to it, but froze halfway; her eyes locked with a stranger across the way. Her hands clenched around Bartolomeo's forearm.

"Drag me to the nearest alley," She hissed.

"Huh?"

The marine, who was seated at the restaurant, stood up and began to wave someone over.

"Now, Barty!"

With a firm tug, Bartolomeo grabbed her arm and began tearing through the crowd. Vetica's rear ached as she collided with passersby. There was the sound of several voices ordering people to move, and gasps of people in the crowd as other pirates began to fight back, thinking the marines were after them.

Soon the pair were enveloped in the shade of two buildings, and Vetica began removing her disguise. She swore under her breath; they had left their normal clothes in the cave. She untucked her badge and began looking around the trash littered alley. The sound of marines grew closer. She turned to Bartolomeo.

"Do you have a knife on you?"

The man shook his head, and Vetica let out another swear.

She then spotted an empty bottle on the ground. She picked it up and slammed it against the wall, shattering it. She then began slicing at her dress the sharp end. Next to her Bartolomeo watched the mouth of the alleyway, muscles tense like an animal preparing to fight.

Vetica smudged dirt on the dress's skirt and began to make her way towards the street. From the way the crowd was moving, the marines couldn't be more than a few yards away.

"Guess this is it," she whispered, forcing herself to smile. "Try to get as far away as possible, okay?"

Then she began to step into the light.

A hand seized hers, and she suddenly found herself pressed against the wall by the force Bartolomeo's lips on hers. She struggled against him, certain that they were going to be caught. But no marines came.

Slowly he released her. His deep red irises, staring into hers. He stroked her neck with one hand, brushing the strap of her dress to one side.

"3 years-dabe…"

Then he tore off towards the back of the alley and vaulted the wall. Vetica watched him go, before wincing at the surge of pain from the site of her new tattoo.

She took a deep breath and pushed her way out into the crowd.

"Help me! I'm here!"

They questioned her for what felt like hours, pouring over every possible detail of her captivity. Vetica explained how he had held her in a small cave offshore and had taken her out to move her to his ship. They questioned her dress, but she insisted that they were the clothes she was kidnapped in.

"I changed when I got back to my room."

The hardest part was definitely the sitting, but Vetica used the pain to her advantage, letting out tears whenever they got pushy about her relationship.

"How could you…. He's a monster," she would cry, whenever they accused her of having some sort of relationship with the man.

Eventually they let her go, apologizing for the trauma they put her through. They even offered to take her back to Marie Joies, but she insisted she just wanted to work and pretend it never happened.

When she entered her room, a pair of warm arms wrapped around her. She melted into the soft body they belonged to, tears unexpectedly dribbling down her cheeks. A hand stroked her hair.

"I'm glad you're safe," Rider said, pressing his cheek against her head.

"It was pretty scary wasn't it," she laughed, wiping her face and pulling away. She walked over to her cot. He watched her silently. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

"He didn't hurt you right?"

"No, no…" she assured him.

She then reached into her bra, feeling around for her most prized possession. When it wasn't where she expected, she checked the other side. Her eyes grew wide.

"Shit!"

Rider looked back at her. "What?"

Vetica clutched her head in her hands, boiling hot rage and sorrow pouring through her body. She was trembling uncontrollably

"It's- it's gone…. my- my picture with Straw hat Luffy…. It's gone..."she gasped.

"Isn't he old news anyways," Rider asked, before leaping back at the sound of her uncontrollable laughter.

All the blood had officially left Vetica's head. She thought about the miserable year that awaited her at G-2. Her head ached. Her heart ached. Her ass ached.

"He is literally the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me," she breathed.

Then she passed out.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked stories with princes," a deep, warm voice chuckled.

Vetica looked up at the large bearded man who smiled down at her, as they sat on the large fluffy bed. He laid the book on the table next to them and pressed her small body against his chest.

She pouted and crossed her arms.

"They're too unrealistic," she whined. "I'm not a baby anymore."

The man chuckled again, and kissed her face. His cheek prickled against her own.

"How could I forget," he growled. "Have you been reading that workbook I sent you?"

"Mhm," she said. "I already finished it!"

"Already finished?" He exclaimed dramatically, letting her go. "Wow! What is that? That has to be the fourth one this month."

"Try tenth. She goes through them like wildfire," a woman in an apron commented from the other side of the room. "It's not normal for a girl her age. My own daughter could barely count to five at her age. She doesn't have enough to do here. You should really-"

"Aww, it's fine. Words run in the family," the man said, ruffling Vetica's hair. "Isn't that right, Smartie?"

Vetica nodded and hopped up to wrap her arms around his neck, taking in the scent of his sweaty hair.

"Ah," she exclaimed, as a thought came to her. "Daddy, did you see any pirates this time?"

The man shifted her to his lap, cradling her in his arms. "Hmmm… let me think."

"Marlon…" the woman said in a warning tone. But the man waved her away, before turning his attention back to Vetica.

"Now, you know, pirates are outlaws, Vetica," he said, slowly. "Just like robbers and murderers."

"But I thought you said some are nice?"

Her father glanced up at the woman, who was giving him a disapproving look. He cleared his throat and shifted the little girl on his lap.

"Hey Tica," he said, beaming at her. "How about you come with me on my next trip?"

"Really?"

"Marlon-" the woman gasped, but he raised a hand to silence her.

"You did say she didn't have enough to do here, Miss Caba, did you not?"

The woman opened her mouth to protest for a moment before letting out a sigh. "If that's you want. It's not my place to parent."

Then she wiped her hands on her apron and opened the door. "I'll be taking my leave, sir. Goodnight, Vetica."

As Vetica watched her leave, a pang of bitterness rolled over her, but it was quickly washed away by the smile on her fathers face as he stroked her hair.

"Well?"

She smiled and pressed her face against his soft, warm chest.

"I love you."

His large hand lightly patted her back.

"I love you too, Smartie."