"Do you think she's gonna come out?"
"Nah, don't you know? Women gotta have their 'emotional' time."
Vetica rolled her eyes, as she lay back on the bed. She could hear the murmur of men outside the door of the cabin she had appropriated as her new home. It had been this way for the past twenty-four hours, ever since she discovered Rider had outed her as a criminal.
Members of the Barto-Club would come by, linger, and gossip about whatever strange perception they had of her.
She glanced down at the unflattering wanted poster of her face. "Fuller Vetica. Wanted dead or alive. Bounty of 400,000 belli."
It still didn't feel real. Even though the bounty was relatively low compared to dangerous criminals, to Vetica it felt unbelievable high.
"In possession of government secrets" was the reasoning behind it supposedly. In his article Rider had made it seem like other reporters didn't also bribe government officials and snoop in Marine documents all the time. Wiretapping a government line or two to chase a story was no big deal in comparison to things she had heard of other reporters doing.
There was a light knock on the door.
"Hey, just letting you know, we're getting ready to dock soon," she heard Gambia say.
She groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. "What's the point? I'm a criminal. My life's over."
"How about fresh clothes and fresh air?"
Vetica scoffed, her eyes stinging from crying all morning. "As if you all can talk; you guys are filthy!"
She could almost hear Gambia's shrug through the door. "Just sayin' you can't stay here forever."
She listened to his footsteps walk away, before rousing herself. She slogged her way over to where her blouse and skirt lay crumpled on the floor. As she pulled on the skirt she looked from the blouse to her tattooed arm, realizing that she had no reason to cover it anymore.
Then with a heavy sigh she opened the door.
She could see Barto-Club members visibly jump when they saw her, but didn't have the energy to question whether or not is was because of her disheveled appearance.
She eventually found her way to the communal bathroom, and immediately regretted her decision to venture out at all. The smell of piss was overwhelming even outside the bathroom. She sniffed her own armpits questioning if she even needed to bathe at all; and was taken aback by the clear "yes" that resonated in her mind.
She sank to the ground burying her face in her hands; for once she missed the communal bathrooms of G-2 base. To think she ever complained about that place.
"Oh, you're out-dabe," she heard from behind her. She looked up to see Bartolomeo's hulking form standing a few yards away. His expression was soft and concerned, but quickly shifted to a grimace. "Wow, you look awful."
She glared at him. "Thanks, same goes for you."
"Haaah!?!" He fumed back, clear annoyance and shock plastered all over his face.
Vetica suddenly felt herself laugh. His offense was a kind of reaction she was used to only hearing on the den den mushi or getting from Rider after reminding him of work. Tears began to form in her eyes as her laughs turned into sobs.
Bartolomeo's reaction of panic would have probably been pretty entertaining, but Vetica was too overwhelmed by her tears to pay any attention. As she curled up, she felt something soft and heavy cover her head. Before she could look up to question what was going on she had been seized around the waist by a strong arm and was being carried off.
Vetica attempted to struggle, but being wrapped in what she had identified as Bartolomeo's jacket was making it difficult to fight back in any meaningful way.
"Hey what the hell do you think you're doing?!" She demanded. "Put me down!"
"Calm down! It's for your own good-dabe!" He snapped back.
After they had gone through several doors Bartolomeo finally put her down. She removed the jacket to see they were in Bartolomeo's personal washroom. She sniffled, relieved that the snot at least kept her from being able to tell if the room stank or not.
Without saying a word Bartolomeo slapped a bar of soap in her hand, grabbed his jacket, and began to leave the room. She knit her eyebrows at the man as he walked away.
"If this is some creepy plan to make me want you back, it isn't going to work!"
"Just shower," he groaned throwing open the door. "I have better things to do-dabe."
Then he slammed the door behind him.
Despite the cold water and constant checking to make sure Bartolomeo was staying out of the room, the shower did make Vetica feel a little better. Her eyes felt a little less swollen and her head felt a little clearer. It unfortunately enabled her to clean her nose enough to smell the stench of Bartolomeo's toilet, but it was still better than the communal bathroom. She had to admit she felt grateful he had let her use it even if it was slightly by force.
After she dressed, she inspected her, now almost fully healed, head injury. She fluffed her hair and scowled at her reflection in the mirror. At least being an outlaw meant she could finally ditch her bobbed hair. She flipped the entirety of her mane from one side to the other, before slapping her cheeks.
"See there are some upsides to being a criminal," she assured herself. "Like now you don't have to worry that you look like shit."
She sighed and walked out onto the deck, where the men were busily preparing to make landfall. Outside the cabin, Bartolomeo leaned against the wall, eyes closed. Up close she could see the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. Vetica mentally checked herself, as a small twinge of pity began to pull at her heart. She cleared her throat before nudging him with her elbow.
The man rubbed his arm and glanced down at her. His pupils nearly filled his red irises. Before he could say anything, Vetica looked away. She crossed her arms. "I just wanted to thank you for the shower. I really needed that."
"It's whatever-dabe." He said, straightening up with a shrug. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to study her. "Do you know where you're gonna go?"
She looked up at him, before shaking her head. "Not really. I was considering visiting my father's home island, but... to be honest, I'll probably just try to lay low until the government forgets about me."
He nodded as though he seemed to understand, then turned away. Vetica, assumed he was going to walk away, but instead he shifted his weight from side to side, in an awkward and uncomfortable looking manner.
Her face began to grow warm. She had only witnessed him get bashful a handful of times, and couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the man.
"Or I could stay," Vetica suggested, attempting to guess what he was thinking. "Help with the navigating or something."
Bartolomeo stopped and let out a sigh, before walking away.
"No. It's best you leave-dabe," He said. He lifted a hand as if to wave her off. "Gambia will set you up with some supplies-dabe."
At that moment Vetica realized her moment of weakness. She turned to face the wall, clutching her hands to her head, inwardly scolding herself for even considering the option. Despite the fact that logically it might be wise to stay on a ship of successful pirates while she was attempting to run from the law, it had come out potentially seeming like she was entertaining the idea of things going back to the way they were. Even that idiot had the clarity to shut the thought down.
"Stupid, jerk. Sounding all mature like that..." She muttered.
"Hey," A voice said, causing Vetica to bolt upright and flip around. Gambia was standing behind her holding a sack over his shoulder. He casually tossed a homemade poncho at her and set the bag down. "I collected most of your stuff, but you should go by the room just to double check."
She watched as he walked away before sniffing the poncho. There was a slight odor of mildew, but that was actually better than she had expected. She sighed, pulling it on over her head, before turning her attention to the bag. Sifting through its contents, she could see a couple cans and hard rolls, a canteen, and knife. Gambia had even been kind enough to add a pencil and a small bundle of paper. Her top was bundled up, but the letter she received from garp must have still been tucked away in the room.
As she walked back, she took in the sight of the approaching shoreline. The island they were docking at seemed to be dominated by a quaint looking town, that backed up to a tall singular mesa. Once Vetica studied the roofs a bit longer, she felt the nagging sensation that they seemed familiar. Then she spotted a charred flagpole boasting a crudely made Strawhat flag. Her expression flattened. This was just the island Bartolomeo had terrorized a couple of days before. Well... at least the government wouldn't expect the pirate to drop her off the way he came.
There was a surge of commotion when Vetica left the cabin and a small lurch, indicating that they had finally come to a stop. She took a deep breath; that was her cue. She looked up at the sails of the Going Luffy-senpai. For only a moment, she let herself feel a little bit sentimental about the time she had spent there. Granted, nearly three days of that had been spent in the brig, but there were some good times too. She shook her head, knowing full well she was fooling herself. It was Barty she felt sentimental about, not the ship.
She made her way to the portside of the ship, where a small group of Barto-Club members had lined up to unload boxes of what seemed to be more Luffy merchandise. She rolled her eyes; if Luffy was a god, the crass pirate was certainly his high priest. With little hesitation she took her place in the line an flipped her hood up. In a less than a minute, she stepped onto the island's concrete pier.
Standing there, only a few feet away, pen and paper poised in hand, was a man in a paperboy cap. As the locked eyes, Vetica could see his mouth open wide in seeming recognition. Her heart thudded in her chest as she clenched her fist. She had been on land for barely a second and had already been caught.
He lifted a hand to point at her. "You-"
Vetica opened her mouth to cut him off, but a large hand seized her by the shoulder, forcing her backwards. She stumbled back onto the plank, as Bartolomeo stepped between her and the reporter, his huge body, fully obstructing the stranger from her sight.
"Oho! You're a reporter-dabe..." Bartolomeo said, with menacing amusement. Vetica could have sworn she heard the reporter audibly cower. She couldn't blame the man; she too had witnessed how terrifying the pirate could be when he was in the mood. Bartolomeo leaned in close to the man. "You better have questions for me, since you're hanging around my ship-dabe."
The reporter cleared his throat. "Well, actually, I- I was going to ask you for your opinion on the news of Strawhat Luffy's increased bounty and battle against the Big Mom Pirates! Err... Sir!"
The aura emanating from Bartolomeo shifted as he straightened his posture. Even from behind, Vetica could tell he was grinning ear to ear.
"Hehahaha, why didn't you say so sooner?" he boomed, flipping one of his sideburns in an overly elegant manner, wholly unfitting of a man with such a normally rough demeanor. "Of course, as commander of the Strawhat Grand Fleet, I'm incredibly proud to see the noble Luffy-senpai begin to get the recognition he deserves-dabe. He is, after all, going to become king of the pirates-dabe! I still remember the first time I laid sight on him back when I was just a lowly thug in Logue Town and..."
Vetica felt her eyebrows knit in annoyance as the man began raving about his connection to Luffy and journey. If he hadn't taken her prisoner, she could be the one breaking an exclusive on his opinions about Luffy becoming the next emperor. Seriously, was this the way Bartolomeo treated every reporter he met? She quietly let out a huff, knowing full well that she was partly to blame for her current situation. Besides that, what kind of stupid reporter waited at the foot of a dangerous pirate's ship to ask such a generalized question. He had just gotten lucky that Bartolomeo had voluntarily divulged his position in and the existence of the Strawhat Grand Fleet. Vetica bit her lip as her heart began to sink at the thought of how much praise she would have received for breaking that story. She could almost hear Opera's voice in her head congratulating her on snagging such a good lead.
She slapped her cheeks, bringing herself back to reality; it was pointless to think about that stuff now. As she tuned back in to the conversation, she realized Bartolomeo had stopped talking. She looked up at pirate's back. One of his arms had drifted back as if to urge her to step back again. His fingers crossed.
"I'm not answerin' that-dabe," he stated, waving his other hand as if he was disinterested. He then gave Vetica a small shove, further up the plank, before turning to head back up himself. She was unsure of what was said to prompt his behavior, but complied considering the circumstances.
"W-wait where are you going?" the reported gasped, clearly much braver after their initial conversation.
Bartolomeo began picking his ear as he guided Vetica back to the ship, contorting his face into a grimace of distaste. "Where does it look like dumbass? Back to my ship; answering too many questions is annoying-dabe!"
"But that's her with you, right?!" the reporter yelled, seemingly begging for the answer. "You're Vetica Fuller, right?"
"What a pain-dabe..."
Vetica stopped, prompting a warning look from Bartolomeo. He gave her a small shove, but she refused to budge. She rolled her shoulders back and tuned to fully face Bartolomeo. He looked down at her, his expression mellowed. He cast his eyes away from her as she removed her hood, and put on her haughtiest expression.
Vetica peered around him at the reporter who was actually shaking a little around the knees.
"And what if I am?" She challenged.
"Uh..." The reporter seemed to blank out for a moment. Vetica sneered at him. What a novice. The man placed his pen to the pad. "I- uh suppose I'd ask if the story about you is true..."
"What part?" She demanded.
The man clearly picked up on her annoyance with his meek demeanor. He gulped and straightened. His voice became deeper and fuller. "What is your relationship with Bartolomeo the Cannibal?"
The answer seemed to slip off her tongue with unprecedented ease, considering she had agonized over that question many times over the past two years. She glanced over to see Barty staring at her in awe as she spoke.
"I'm his comrade," She stated firmly. "And a disgraced reporter whose taking refuge on his ship, obviously."
The reporter looked shocked. The pirate captain grinned. She lifted her chin higher.
"Was that all you wanted to know, or did you want a full exclusive?"
The reporter smiled and then laughed. He closed his notepad and tucked his pen in his pocket.
"Man the rumors about you were true, you're an absolute trip," he said, regaining his composure. "I'd love the exclusive. That is, if your comrade doesn't mind."
Bartolomeo, shrugged brushing past Vetica onto his ship, a devilish grin plastered on his face.
"Not a problem-dabe," he said with a dismissive wave. Then he looked back at the reporter, clearly exposing his fangs. "But if you even think 'bout calling the marines-dabe, i'll make you regret it."
Vetica had to stop herself from grinning too much at the reporters apparent discomfort.
"We'll be leaving in three hours-dabe. If you're late I'll hunt you down-dabe."
She disembarked, giving the reporter an encouraging slap on the shoulder.
"The trick with pirates is not to let them intimidate you," she told him with a wink. "A bottle of sake and two thousand belli and I'll answer as many questions as you like."
He nodded. "Lead the way."