Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece

The snow fell at a slow and lazy pace over the Moby Dick. By the looks of things, they were more than likely approaching a Winter Island, though this was the New World they were talking about, so the odds of the Whitebeard Pirates approaching a Summer Island were about the same. Perhaps even higher, considering how much the ocean's spirits liked to hound them. The Grand Line was beyond ridiculous. Thankfully, they'd gotten used to it over the years and were prepared for absolutely everything.

Everything was well and good for them. It was a great era to be a pirate. Even more so if you were one of the most revered crews in the world. The times weren't exactly peaceful—their profession always came with a tang of danger after all—but seeing as they were a part of an Emperor's ship, they remained at the eye of the storm; far away from the chaos that any new upstarts and overly cocky idiots caused. Few dared to challenge them, and those that did were dealt with quickly.

But even with all of their power, the Whitebeard pirates were on edge.

There were so few things that could put them on that toxic brink between excitement and worry—and another Emperor visiting them was high up on that list. It was second only to one of their own being captured. Perhaps they should've thanked their lucky stars that the Emperor visiting them was none other than Red-Haired Shanks, arguably the most level-headed among the remaining three. But Shanks wasn't one to be trifled with, and even he could be pushed past discipline if they actually insulted him in any way.

Shanks equaled the power of hundreds of thousands of men. He could get rid of so many of their weaker crew members with a single blast of Conqueror's Haki and an errant swing of his sword. They were right to be alarmed. Even the mere news that he'd be setting foot on the Moby Dick was enough to make the entirety of the World Government tremble in concern. Not that their opinion mattered of course. They were worse than scum, as far as most pirates were concerned. So many Marines preached justice, yet…

Marco was drawn out of his thoughts when a clear whistle resounded all throughout the deck. It was from Vista up in the Crow's Nest, he knew, and as Marco looked up at his mate, he saw him do a quick, elaborate hand gesture that he was all too familiar with—a rival Emperor's ship had been spotted.

A moment later, he saw it with his own eyes.

Shanks' ship was leagues smaller than the Moby Dick, but it made up for its tiny size in speed. If Shanks wasn't so easygoing all the time, then Marco knew he could breeze past the first half of the Grand Line in a little over two months. He'd heard enough stories about the Red-Haired Pirates reaching an island in record time that he'd believe whatever tall tale Shanks told about the swiftness of the Red Force.

Marco saw several high and low-ranking members of the Red-Haired Pirates littered across their deck, though he didn't spare more than a momentary glance at their faces. As the smaller ship finally drew close to the Moby Dick and Red-Haired Shanks made a move to board, Marco yelled out to the crew.

"The weak ones stay in the back, yoi."

"What?" some hotshot newbie questioned. "Weak ones?"

"What do you mean?" another asked.

Marco clicked his tongue at all of their prodding, before he stuck out his thumb over his shoulder to point at some unknown point in back of him. "Just do it."

But it was already too late.

The weak ones fell to the ground, caught unaware, as Shanks boarded their ship. The Red-Haired Emperor let out a controlled, yet fierce stream of his Conqueror's Haki. People passed out from the sheer immensity of his presence. Even the Moby Dick, built from the most expensive wood that money could buy, chipped from the force of his aura. The man was a menace. Marco had thought that he simply wanted to talk, but with him displaying that much power, he was beginning to have second thoughts.

What in the world could Red-Haired Shanks of all people want with them?

As the man in question made his way along the deck, Marco noticed that he held an extremely large just of sake in his hand. It was too late for a peace offering now. Did he know how much trouble he just gave them by expelling the force of his spirit? They'd be short on men to order around now.

Shanks' attention was focused solely on Whitebeard; the only one he deemed important on this ship. Marco would've been insulted had his pride in his Captain been a little less great. It wasn't though. He could respect that Shanks had his eyes trained on the person he believed to be the greatest threat. Following a few steps behind Shanks were Benn Beckman and "Killer Punch" Aiko. The latter carried a ridiculously large red sake cup.

Marco regarded them with a careful, deliberate distance. Now, that was a face he was intimately familiar with. He wanted her to meet his eyes, but Aiko was focused only on her captain. Marco knew that she sensed him, and he had to give her credit for not at least glancing his way. How many times had they met over the years with her unable to tear her fingers away from his skin? Too damn many.

It seemed that in the presence of her captain, she at least had some semblance of control.

Although they had run into each other every now and again, it had been years since he last saw her face; since he was last gifted with the sight of her appearance. Their little one night stand had been so long ago that he really only remembered blurs of that night. Over time, they had both risen to become prominent members of their crews. It wasn't easy either. It couldn't be with crews as large as theirs. There was so much competition. But they'd done it anyway. And with increased standing, came increased bounties and even more news.

Marco was able to keep up with what she'd done throughout the years by following newspapers or listening to the rumors his mates sometimes spouted. He only truly learned more about her during the rare moments they found themselves in each other's company—sometimes not always alone—but those were few and far between. They had no solid line of communication that he could actively rely on. Only fate and the fickle whims of time.

Out of habit, he attempted to memorize the finer details of her appearance. He wanted to make sure he caught all of the little changes since they'd last met. Her face had matured more with age. There were lines there that he'd never seen before. She looked as if she got angry quickly and… often, strangely enough. It was a surprise, considering all of the times he'd been in her company before. But he figured it had more to do with her having a passing fit of annoyance because of her rowdy mates, than actual fury at some stranger.

Marco observed her figure. He looked at the long dark hair that fell down her back. It was a startling contrast to her bright eyes and even brighter skin. He wondered what kind of ridiculously unreal routine she must've had to keep her skin that white, despite being on the sea, but quickly let the thought go. It wasn't as if he needed her secret anyway. She had exchanged her shirt for a tank top, and her shorts for something akin to a silk blanket, which she tied tightly around her waist. It exposed a long, creamy leg that had him grinning. The heels she wore only made it better. The startling number of pirates and marines that could fight with heels was uncanny, but hey, if they wanted to suffer for fashion, then it wasn't any of his business.

Aiko donned heavy-duty spiked gauntlets on both of her hands. They extended upwards into plates to protect her arms. They didn't match the rest of her outfit, but they did match her eyes. Those honey-colored irises of hers were a lot more ferocious in person than they were on her wanted posters. One look into those orbs, and he knew that despite all of the minute differences, she was still the same snarky woman that he'd been smitten with for so long. They might not have seen each other often, but he knew enough about her to know that a few years wasn't enough to change her completely.

Many of his lower-ranking subordinates visibly tensed at the presence of the three of them. Thankfully, none of them made a scene by running off in fright. If any of them did, Marco would throw them into the ocean for staining Whitebeard's pride. For a moment, Marco wondered if maybe they thought they were safe because so many commanders were currently on deck; that they could intervene should Shanks actually try anything. They were right, but that didn't mean that they still couldn't lose their lives by getting caught in the crossfire.

"I told you guys to get back," Marco said irately to the weaker members of the crew.

His voice broke the tense silence that had settled around them, piercing it as efficiently as needle through a cloth. He was upset, however, and it showed. His annoyance brought about an entirely different kind of tension. It was one that Marco didn't seem to notice, as he busied himself with pinning Shanks with the most hostile glare he had in his arsenal.

"Look at the mess you made, yoi."

"Oh!" Shanks faced Marco like he just had his mind blown to epic proportions. "Aren't you the First Division Commander, Phoenix Marco? Hey, how about joining my crew?"

Roger, he was excited—and half serious, he realized after a moment. How could he ask him something like that in front of his Pops?

"Quit joking around," Marco shot back. His voice came out quickly and hotly, though his blank expression remained firmly in place.

Shanks laughed at himself, a bit embarrassed at getting carried away. "I guess I should've expected that answer. All you commanders are all so cold."

"Get the hint, Captain," Aiko interrupted. "You're annoying."

"That's news to me." Shanks' eyes widened like saucers. By the time he faced his other mate, he was frowning worse than a spoiled child denied something he wanted. "Bennie, is this true?!"

Benn Beckman just shook his head at his Captain's antics.

"Even Aiko is cold to me," Shanks went on.

Aiko shrugged and turned to look at just who her captain had tried to recruit. The man himself was giving her a listless stare, as if he had no idea who she was. Marco could definitely be cold when he wanted to be—Shanks was right about that much. The Phoenix Commander looked, for lack of a better word, older. The years showed. Although he donned different clothes now, he still had that same lethargic expression on his face and that ridiculous pineapple hair. He'd grown taller, too. Marco towered an entire head and a half over her. He'd been tall when they met, but she didn't think it was possible for him to grow even more. Did the Whitebeard Pirates put some kind of special seasoning in their food? Because all of their commanders were freakishly large.

"Just what do you think you're doing, brat?" Edward Newgate interrupted. His loud voice boomed, creating ripples in the very air around them. "Boarding my ship with such a powerful presence, are you looking for a fight?"

Aiko's focus shifted entirely to Whitebeard at that.

"It was a precaution. I didn't know what to expect, boarding another ship and all," Shanks said. The way his voice went from inattentive, mind-blown little kid to freakishly-focused adult in two seconds flat startled some of the Whitebeard pirates. But the only thing Aiko noticed was that he hadn't said enemy ship. At least he was watching whatever nonsense spouted out of his mouth.

"I brought a gift," Shanks went on. He lifted the large jug of sake with a friendly grin, before throwing it over to Whitebeard.

He took a sniff as soon as he caught it.

"West Blue sake?" Whitebeard recognized. "This isn't good enough, brat!"

Several Whitebeard Commanders' faces hardened at that, while the others flinched. Shanks, however, wasn't at all fazed by his displeasure.

"Out of all of the oceans, I've found that West Blue sake has the most healing properties." Shanks gave another pleasant grin. "It's sake from my hometown, please drink it."

The revelation made Whitebeard pause. He raised his eyebrows, clearly reconsidering the offering. Whitebeard didn't bother apologizing for insulting it a moment before. There was no need. His apology came in the form of a long, healthy swig.

"Good stuff." Whitebeard laughed. His opinion about the sake changed in an instant.

"I'm glad," Shanks replied.

"Vista," Whitebeard called. The man immediately stood. "Take care of these two. Me and the brat need to talk."

When Whitebeard said that, the rest of the pirates on deck began clearing out. Vista wasted no time in approaching the two Red-Haired pirates.

"Let's leave them alone," Vista said, while playing with the edge of his extremely large mustache. "I'll bring you two to the mess hall."

As they drank their grog, Aiko noticed that the Whitebeard pirates didn't have much of a problem with them being around. Sure, they received the occasional wary glance, but they weren't stared at with outright hostility. They reminded her of her own crew—welcoming and trusting, up to a certain point anyway. There was only one reason for their attitude; pirates were only this trusting when they knew they could handle whoever was with them. She felt a little insulted by the implication, but it was nice to see how confident they were in their abilities.

Aiko stretched, before finishing up the last of her grog. Seeing her slightly red face, Vista decided to finally start up the small talk. Booze always loosened the tongue. He didn't want some uptight conversation that would end with the entire mess hall drawing their weapons.

"Aiko," he began. "I remember back when you were still a rookie. You were bold. Enough that I thought you'd sail the New World on your own. Yet, you somehow ended up with Red-Haired Shanks."

"Everyone is bold when they enter the New World," Aiko said back. "They're quickly whipped down a few pegs."

Vista laughed. She wasn't wrong, but she wasn't exactly right either. "What kind of guy is he? Your Captain?"

Aiko examined him for a moment, trying to sense any hostility from him. She was surprised when she found none. Vista was genuinely curious as to what type of man Red-Haired Shanks was when the world wasn't portraying him as some stone-cold villain or when he wasn't making a complete fool of himself for the sake of others. Vista wanted to know why she chose to follow him out of all of the other strong options out there in the New World. He was earnest with his inquiries, and Aiko couldn't fault him for that.

"You know how people say you can't judge a book by its cover?" she asked.

Vista nodded, as Beckman angled his head to listen to her. Even he wanted to know where she was going with this. She was usually so blunt whenever someone asked what type of her person Shanks was.

"In his case," she cradled her cheek in her palm and smiled widely at them, "you can."

Beckman shook his head disapprovingly at her.

As Vista was just about to voice his confusion, he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of their First Division Commander. Vista was surprised that their overprotective first mate would leave Whitebeard to talk things out with Shanks, but quickly dismissed the thought when he realized that Whitebeard must've ordered him to come down, too. He just hoped that whatever they were discussing out there didn't take a turn for the worst.

Vista watched, while Marco swooped right into the empty spot beside Aiko with all of the ease of someone that had known her for years and had every right to invade her personal space comfortably. There was a grin on his face that he'd never seen before. It was curved up in a soft, tender way that made him lean closer in interest.

"Don't try to understand her, Vista." Marco shrugged his broad shoulders. "She'll just give you a headache, and when she's on your mind you know you've got a problem, yoi. It's never a good thing when a woman from another crew is on your mind."

"Are you speaking from experience, Phoenix?" Aiko said, amused. "How long has it been exactly? I thought you might've forgotten about me by now."

"You?" Marco drawled. Those lethargic eyes were still the same after all of these years. "Never."

"Always with the flattery."

"You two know each other?" Benn Beckman finally spoke up, serious as always. Something was off between these two. Too much tension lingered between them. He had an inkling as to why, but even just the thought made him want to shake his head in dislike.

Even Vista was listening intently to every word. Except unlike Benn, he had a sly grin on his face that made him look more evil than he was. Vista knew Marco. Their disinterested Phoenix Commander rarely initiated a conversation with any rival pirate; he just wasn't the talkative type when it came to their enemies, and that was completely understandable.

If anything, Marco was an action speaks louder than words kind of guy. Yet, he wasn't even glaring at her.

"We do, yoi," he finally answered.

"Intimately," Aiko tacked on, giving them the answer they actually wanted to hear.

Vista, Benn Beckman, and all of the other Whitebeard pirates that eavesdropped on their conversation reeled back in sudden shock. Their eyes widened in different degrees of surprise at what she'd just said with no hesitation whatsoever. Like high-ranking pirates from rival Emperor crews hooking up was common. A few of the more startled ones had even spat out their drinks, before falling into harsh coughing fits.

Marco rolled his eyes.

"Don't kiss and tell, yoi. What if we get into trouble?"

"You mean what if you're teased endlessly by your mates? Not my problem."

He smirked, and those seemingly lifeless eyes awakened for a second in joy, before he hid the emotion behind his ever-neutral façade.

"You're still the same," he said, and glad about the fact. "That smart mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day."

"It already has. I met you, didn't I?" She shot back.

"Tell me, have you grown at all, yoi? You're still as snarky as ever. But don't you at least think you should watch what you say? Especially considering where you are. This is my turf, darling."

"You don't have to worry about little old me." Aiko eyed him up and down. "But I see you've grown. Quite nicely, too. Is your height all that got bigger?"

He couldn't do this anymore.

Marco let the smirk that had been trying to get loose for the last five minutes finally break freely onto his face. He wasn't even trying to hide behind that mask anymore. It was a fruitless endeavor anyway. His composure always, always crumbled whenever she was concerned. Besides, how in the four blues did anyone expect him to remain calm when she so bluntly teased him like this with no shame whatsoever? He was still a man, damnit!

Marco considered shooting a similar question back at her, but figured it would be wasted. One look at her tank top had his mind thinking that, yes, she most definitely had grown.

He knew that everyone's attention was currently on them, but he just couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.

"Care to find out, yoi?" Marco suggested boldly. "Or do I have to show you my flames first?"

She gave him a teasing grin.

"This again? Don't you have any new moves to show me?"

Before Marco could respond, the ship shook with an explosion of clashing Haki. Everyone quickly snapped out of whatever trance they'd been in. There was a beat of silence, an instant to take in what had just happened—what was still happening—before they all simultaneously stood and used the fastest means they had to getting back onto the deck. Be that transforming into a phoenix, sky walk, pushing smaller members of the crew out of the way, or simply running.

Once Aiko and Benn reached the deck, they found a terrifying sight.

Shanks had drawn his saber and was clashing against Whitebeard. This was the worst possible outcome at the moment for any of them, seeing as how they were on the Moby Dick, completely surrounded by not just regular members of the Whitebeard pirates, but commanders as well.

"No one could have stopped this!" Shanks yelled loudly. His Haki exploded with his anger. "This is the turning point for the rampage of the New Age!"

Whitebeard laughed, despite the seriousness of Shanks' tone. "Teach killed one of my sons! Do you think I'll let that go unpunished?!"

Their swords clashed once again.

A pulse of Haki made the air burst around them.

"Pops!" Multiple Whitebeard pirates yelled in concern when Shanks unleashed the full force of his fighting spirit.

"Call Ace back!" Shanks tried one last time.

"Ace will set things straight!" Whitebeard denied again.

"Benn!" Shanks called. "Prepare the ship! Aiko! Grab your things now. I'm sending you after Ace!"

"Don't think you can interfere with my son's mission!" Whitebeard yelled angrily. He put more force into his hits. Each strike made the waters of the New World tremble.

Aiko wasted no time. While Shanks held off Whitebeard, she jumped right onto the rails of the Moby Dick.

"Roux!" she shouted over to the Red Force. "Prepare a ship!"

They were quick to act, already used to doing things without question. In under a minute, they had a small boat floating on the sea, which Aiko landed on with unsteady legs.

The Whitebeard pirates were quick, too, though. Before she could react, Marco came flying down in his phoenix hybrid form. He aimed a kick straight at her face. Aiko put her arm up at the last second. Her Armament Haki barely had time to coat her gauntlets, before she suffered the full force of his attack. That wasn't a warning or a display of power—he was out for blood.

Marco moved back, so he could perch on the rails of the undersized ship.

"I can't let you continue, yoi."

Quick Edited: 01/06/2019