AN- If you have not begun to Dressrosa arc please begin reading it now. I'm beginning to introduce more Donquixote pirates, and not knowing who they are might make reading future readers awkward, as well as potentially ruin the manga/anime for you.


-Part 1-

Liar Liars

-Then-

Doflamingo was told about the journey into adulthood shortly after entering middle school, at about the age of twelve. Unfortunately, he began puberty at the age of eleven. His father barely had the time to spend with his son, so the brief seconds they shared with one another weren't long enough for him to realize there was something emotional wrong with his growing child, and Doflamingo's mother figured he was old enough to finally understand that she had always hoped for a loyal daughter, not a son. Needless to say, there was no one who could explain to him the problems that were arising in the back of his mind. A Christian school barely covered the necessary details when it came to sex, even less when it came to sexuality, and absolutely nothing when it came to gender.

There was no denying it; Doflamingo knew he liked boys. He also liked the girls as well, but there was no stopping the urge to look over at his fellow male classmate and wonder what they might look like without a shirt on. Or pants. Or anything really.

Doflamingo knew nothing about bisexuality, not that it would have helped him, since any romantic feelings involving members of the same sex was treated with hostility. So as far as he knew he was gay, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Crocodile became an even bigger interest to Doflamingo around this age. Doflamingo remembered thinking up ways to come into closer contact with Crocodile, all in the hopes of seeing and touching him in a not so innocent way. Although his interests in roughhousing were beginning to wane and be replaced by more intellectual, mature hobbies, Doflamingo would often try to spark some sort of energy from the older boy, his desire being that Crocodile would make some sort of move on him- be it romantic or not. For years Doflamingo wondered whether Crocodile had been aware of this plan of his, as it appeared that Doflamingo's growing desire was overdone by Crocodile's ever growing prudishness.

That was strange. It should have been an obvious sign that there was something off, because though the two had begun to drift apart in some ways, there was no real excuse, at least to Doflamingo, why Crocodile suddenly felt uncomfortable from a certain amount of physical contact. But Doflamingo was only nine, ten, and finally eleven, and all he could do was hate himself for scaring the boy from their usual games. Yes, Crocodile must know, he would bitterly think to himself. He knew but was too polite to say anything. That had to be it.

Crocodile…he started late. Doflamingo never really dwelt on Crocodile's late start, rather, he enjoyed that the boy remained in an androgynous state for an extended time, pretending to himself that the only reason he liked Crocodile "that way" was because he still carried some feminine physique that puberty would one day wash away. It was something like magic when Doflamingo got off the bus into the unfamiliar neighborhood that Crocodile and his mother had moved to, when he stumbled upon a Crocodile who's lips seemed paler, his hair less silken, arms and legs lankier, and over all expression all the more expressionless. To put it simply, he wasn't as pretty as Doflamingo had recalled him being the previous week.

It was hard to tell, at first. Crocodile was busy on Fridays. That meant five days without seeing the boy. But then Fridays suddenly became a Wednesday sort of thing, and then Doflamingo decided to just visit Crocodile whenever he pleased. The changes became noticeable. Doflamingo had no right to complain. He had Fridays again. He wondered why Crocodile was always busy on Wednesdays though.

Every week there was something Doflamingo would focus and linger on as he continued to silently watch Crocodile develop. The boy, then thirteen, was showing interests in bigger and better things, and since Doflamingo could no longer impress Crocodile with childish accomplishments, he would take the steps necessary to earn the older boy's respect. When Crocodile took up smoking Doflamingo did everything he could to not cough when he took his first deep inhale of the toxic air. When Crocodile replaced his model ships and pirate figures with pocketknives, pipes and other paraphernalia, Doflamingo went ahead and had his family purchase some new toys of his own.

The desert would become an alien world to the two boys. Crocodile's interest in playing imaginary games dwindled after that emotional mishap that Doflamingo was already beginning to regret. He would move away from the center of the neighborhood, higher up north, on the other side of town, admittedly closer to Doflamingo, but far away from the place where he watched Crocodile bury the treasure. Doflamingo wanted to bring it up. What ever happened to the money? How much did he end up saving? What on earth would he have done with it?

Then Doflamingo was eleven. Crocodile was fourteen.


Doflamingo sometimes missed the desert. He sat behind the city's library, cigarette at hand, waiting for Crocodile to finish with classes so that they could hang out. It had been an uneventful Friday; sometime during silent study Doflamingo got the idea to leave his school's premises and made a deadline for the neighboring city where Crocodile had moved. He loved that it was only a twenty-minute bike ride from his school, but hated that it was in the center of everything. Although they were both getting too old for such games, Doflamingo wished there was somewhere for the two of them to hide, to play in privacy.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and took in a short breath as the sounds of the bell clock from behind went off; alerting him that it was now three. He had waited here for nearly an hour. Crocodile should have been finished thirty minutes ago. He should be here now.

Doflamingo threw the remains of his smoke on the ground, knowing full well by now most people would be out, and not willing to risk getting caught, decided to bear with his thirst and addiction. He grabbed his bike and wheeled it out to the front of the library, figuring Crocodile must have been held back. He might have gotten into a fight. He was probably in trouble.

Crocodile was almost always in a bad mood now. Monday was the worst. Sundays made Crocodile anxious and lethargic. It was always the same pattern. Doflamingo wasn't sure what it meant, but he tried to make the best of it. He was aware that they were both going through an unusual, yet totally natural, period. It would all be over soon. Fu. Fufu.

"Hey, Doflamingo."

Doflamingo felt his face scrunch in distaste as a certain familiar voice came from the side, accompanied by the loud rolling sound of an old, worn skateboard. It was not Crocodile's voice.

"Mihawk," Doflamingo muttered without so much as turning his head, "where's Crocodile? Is he in detention again?"

There was a pause. Doflamingo almost felt tempted to turn and stare at the boy he totally didn't like, but wasn't in any way jealous of.

Mihawk sighed, "He's at home."

"What?" Doflamingo frowned. "Why?" He looked and could see Mihawk's expression. Something about it appeared awkward, but maybe that was just in the boy's nature. God, Mihawk was so off-putting. Those torn, bleached skinny jeans. That oversized Guns N Roses Shirt. That skateboard. That everything.

"He had surgery the other day," Mihawk answered, this time more smoothly. "Appendix."

"Surgery?" Doflamingo repeated. "Appendix?"

"Yeah," Mihawk said. He picked his skateboard up and sat himself on the stairs in front of the library. Doflamingo looked down at the older boy in disbelief. Mihawk rolled his tongue around his mouth and spat out before continuing; "he's been feeling pretty bad the past few days. Got pulled out the other day during fourth period."

"What the fuck?" Doflamingo growled. "He didn't say anything to me."

"That's why I'm here," Mihawk responded. "He wanted me to let you know you can go home and spend time with your other friends this weekend."

What "other friends," Doflamingo wondered. He hadn't yet met those few that would be worthy of being called friends. Other than this thought, there was also dealing with the depressing prospects of a long, lonely weekend. And why didn't Crocodile call him yesterday, or the day before? Why couldn't he get his mother to call? You aren't worthy.

But worst of all: why was Mihawk the one telling him this?

"How is he?" Doflamingo asked, trying his best not to let his inner rage show.

"I haven't seen him yet," Mihawk answered.

Doflamingo could feel his facial muscles struggle to not form a devious smile. There was one thing Mihawk had not yet done! He wondered how long it took to get over a missing appendix. He wondered if Crocodile would be in the mood to have him visit.

"Don't go over to his place."

"Hmm?"

"You have that look on your face," Mihawk said. "Crocodile wants to be left alone. He isn't in the mood. Go do something else."

"How would you know what mood he's in?" Doflamingo asked, letting his childish smirk leak though. "I'm his best friend. I know what he wants. Not you."

Mihawk simply stared back, his intense yellow eyes nearly burning though Doflamingo's sunglasses.

"Don't you have anything else to do today?" he asked.

"No," Doflamingo admitted. He kept his smile on as he quickly retorted. "What about you?"

Mihawk frowned.

"I'm not sure why you thought I wouldn't go ahead and visit him," Doflamingo added. "I have a right to be worried about him."

"Don't be," Mihawk said. "He'll be perfectly fine next week." He stood up and stared long at Doflamingo before finally forcing a small smile on his face. It looked absolutely frightening, nearly causing Doflamingo to back away out of fear.

"Lets go swimming," Mihawk said.

"Excuse me?" Doflamingo said. This did cause him to back away.

"My community has a pool," Mihawk said.

It was clear that Mihawk was only saying this because he didn't want Crocodile to be disturbed. Mihawk knew that Doflamingo wasn't fond of him, and the only reason the thirteen year old tolerated him was because Crocodile probably told him to.

"I can't swim," Doflamingo said. Normally Doflamingo would had taken some offense to admitting this weakness of his, but he figured he would be willing to admit it so long as he could save himself from several hours of hanging out with just Mihawk.

Mihawk shook his head. "Yeesh."

"It's not that big of a deal!"

"Nah, it's not that," Mihawk said. He smirked. "I swear, it's like nobody I know can swim." He placed his skateboard on the ground and placed a foot on it. Doflamingo couldn't help but stare in disgust at Mihawk's torn, red Converse. "C'mon, I'll teach you."

Doflamingo knew Mihawk wasn't going to make this easy. For whatever reason, probably out of greed, the boy wasn't going to let him go and see Crocodile. No, Doflamingo realized he was going to have to play by Mihawk's rules today, otherwise he'd probably just find a way to further distract him from his goal.

It would only be a few hours. And Mihawk's house was only a few blocks away from Crocodile's.

Doflamingo crossed his arms, his thin lips pressing tightly together, doing his best to appear defeated and submissive to Mihawk's whims.

"Fine," he muttered.


Doflamingo never really thought about how different Crocodile's house was compared to the usual homes until he was at Mihawk's. He had been to the place a few times before, but only for a few minutes, and he never paid much attention to the detail. The large, one story building had only been a minor detour from a day's adventure. But now, seeing that his day would be spent with Mihawk, and seeing that he had no choice but to change into–No, no, no, why–a pair of Mihawk's swim trunks, Doflamingo, in his delicate, exposed state, could help but pay attention to every little detail of his surroundings.

Bare-chested and admittedly a little cold, Doflamingo waited around the hallway for Mihawk to gather the things necessary for their little outing to the community pool. He held on to his arms and stared at the many pictures that hung from the wall. He'd take a step and stare at a photo, almost always the one he would look at had some depiction of Mihawk in it, and would respond with some sort of negative expression, and then finally move on to the next. He slowly paced halfway through the hallway before Mihawk came out with a bag hanging from his shoulder. Without saying a thing Doflamingo turned and stared at the older boy, and then suddenly realized that he had just witnessed several years of Mihawk's life in the form of photos. Even more, he had seen a hallway dedicated to the life of this boy, from infanthood to the age of thirteen, and a looming discovery came upon him as he recalled every memory of him entering, walking, resting, and existing in Crocodile's house.

There were quite a few memories. Crocodile moved into the small, cozy two story house with a tiny little backyard at about thirteen, and from the moment of their movement, Crocodile had gained a sudden change of heart and had allowed Doflamingo the personal and private information that he had so craved: his address. Nearly every weekend consisted of him being in that house, even if for a few minutes. And in every one of those instances, Doflamingo had never really taken the time to notice this strange bit of evidence, only focusing the majority of his attention to Crocodile and their plans. He had never really noticed the lack of pictures, intimate memories that ought to have been scattered around the house, but for some reason shared no existence in Crocodile's house.

"Are you alright?" Mihawk asked.

"Huh?" Doflamingo asked.

"You. Alright."

Doflamingo rolled his eyes…not that Mihawk could tell behind Doflamingo's dark shades.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Doflamingo said with some hesitance "Let's just get this over with."

He remembered the photos. He remembered how scattered everything was. How random. How full of love each picture seemed to hold as they were added throughout the house in whatever free space was available. He told Vergo how to arrange everything.


"This isn't so bad," Doflamingo heard Mihawk say aloud.

Doflamingo stared down at the distorted image of his abdomen. He focused his attention at the surprisingly warm water that swished up and down, covering and uncovering his belly button with a strange, unclean wetness. He was pretty sure a hairball brushed against his arm. The sun was beating down the upper, dry half of his body. "I think I'm burning," he said.

"You need to move to the deeper end of the pool," Mihawk said. Doflamingo watched Mihawk back peddle a few feet away from him, barely missing the other members the two had to share the pool with, to the marker that was labeled "5," or five feet deep.

"I'm fine here," Doflamingo said. This was true. The shallow end of the pool, though warm and leaving his back exposed to the harsh sunlight, was nowhere near as crowded as the deeper end. He saw children younger than him splash and throw water. Even though there were rules that clearly dictated that jumping was not allowed, every once in a while Doflamingo would hear the yells and screams of someone running and jumping into the pool, causing a giant splash and wave of water, some speckles of the chlorinated, murky water hitting the lenses of his sunglasses.

"You'll never learn to swim properly," Mihawk said.

"I'm not sure I want to anymore," Doflamingo said, once again looking down at the water, noticing the body of a dead brown beetle float by.

"Hey, Mihawk."

"Yeah?"

"What does the appendix do?" he asked.

Mihawk shrugged, "I don't know." He licked his bottom lip and proceeded to flick away the beetle. Doflamingo winced. "Don't be worried," Mihawk said, "He'll be fine."

"Fine?"

Mihawk didn't hesitate to answer. "Yeah."

Something seemed off. Doflamingo wished he could put a finger on it. This wasn't the first time he had been lied to, nor was it the first time precious information had been withheld from him.

"You don't think he'll have a scar, do you?" Doflamingo asked.

He watched Mihawk's face contort with some worry. He wished he could interpret what kind of worry it was.

""I…don't know," Mihawk admitted. Doflamingo couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Was the appendix useful? Doflamingo had never paid much attention to all those organs that were inside of him, but now he wished he could find out. He knew sometimes people had to get rid of them, but why and how was unknown. It frustrating to not know, angering that Mihawk seemed to care so little.

"You sure you don't want me to teach you to swim better?"

Doflamingo nod his head, not sharing any real signs of caring.

"Well…stay on the shallow part then," Mihawk answered flatly. It appeared neither really wanted anything to do with the other anyway. Whatever, Doflamingo thought to himself; the bastard got what he wanted. He was "distracted" and hopefully Mihawk would think that lil' ol' Doffy had forgotten all about Crocodile.

Doflamingo looked around the pool area and smiled as he counted all the visitors that had arrived to cool down from a long day's work. The crowd would make escaping easier. It wouldn't be too hard. Doflamingo had insisted he bring his spare clothes instead of leaving them at Mihawk's, because he would have to hurry home soon and didn't want to get in trouble with his parents. His bike was locked right outside the pool gate. When Mihawk wasn't looking he'd just sneak on out.

"Pssst!"

Doflamingo swirled around and made immediate eye contact with a green-haired and green-eyed girl who, judging by the missing teeth in her wide grin and the bright pink water-wings on her arms, was of a younger age.

"Hi!" the girl said. Her arms, which had been submerged up till this point, where quickly raised up, resulting in Doflamingo's face getting hit with stinging warm pool water.

Doflamingo crossed his arms, letting the liquid run down his face. "What do you want?" he grumbled.

The girl didn't seem to notice his growing temper and remained smiling when she finally answered, "my big sister thinks you're cute," before giggling and swimming away.

Doflamingo raised his brow, watching the swimming figure till it reached the end of the pool before getting out and running towards two girls, both just as giggly and annoying in appearance as the green haired one. He first looked at the smaller redhead, and then raised his focus up on the longhaired, raven-head girl. It took him a moment to realize that the latter was the eldest, as she was seated on her knees, but once she looked over at him Doflamingo couldn't help but feel his chest tighten up as she smiled at him, cheeks pink and eyes filled with adoration.

Doflamingo immediately looked away. He turned around and around in the pool, trying to see where Mihawk was. He couldn't spot him so decided now was the time to try to get away. He carefully made his way out of the pool and began to trek his way to the bag holding his clothes. Unfortunately, as he was about to make his escape, he felt a hand grab his. A smaller, softer, and delicate hand.

Doflamingo turned his head just slightly to see who had been so bold to do such a thing. It was the girl.

"Hi," the girl said.

Doflamingo's sunglasses lowered, almost by sheer will.

"You're holding my hand," he said.

She giggled. "You're funny," she said.

"I'm funny?" Doflamingo asked.

"My name's Hancock," the girl said, eyeing him like as though he were some sort of sweet delicacy. "What's yours?"

Doflamingo smirked. He chuckled. He nearly guffawed.

"What's so funny?" Hancock asked. Hancock. Han-cock. Cock.

Doflamingo made the mistake of just answering, "you." This caused the girl in front of him to misinterpret his message as something positive, and upon hearing this, squeezed the older boy's hand, so much so that Doflamingo actually had to free himself from the pain.

"You think I'm funny?" the girl squeaked.

Doflamingo began to slowly take a few steps back toward the pool. His chest began to race with a sudden nervousness. "Uh, well…you have a funny–"

"Let's be boyfriend and girlfriend!" Hancock chirped.

Doflamingo gripped tightly on his bag, feeling the sudden animal urge to fight or flight. Now, he had always wanted a "real" girlfriend–or a "girlfriend" who happened to be a boy. That wasn't weird. Right?– but Doflamingo was a boy who wanted things on his own terms. This Hancock girl was young, too young for him. She was short, had no boobs, had no butt! and she was loud and annoying and a little too aggressive for his taste. Also, her name had "cock" in it.

The eleven year old concluded that he could do sooo much better.

"I actually have to go," Doflamingo said, taking yet another step away from the girl, and dangerously closer to the pool.

"Wait! You didn't tell me your name yet," Hancock whined.

"It really doesn't matter," Doflamingo insisted, "You will never, ever, ever see me again."

"Nuh-uh," the girl said.

"Uh-huh," Doflamingo hurriedly responded.

"What the hell is going on here?" Doflamingo heard Mihawk's voice and groaned. He turned and saw the older boy walking up to him, that look of frustration and over-awareness of the situation at hand all over his smug, frowny little face.

"Who's that?" Hancock asked.

"A pain in the ass," Doflamingo groaned. He heard Hancock yelp in shock from his comment and would have otherwise reacted from it, but then Mihawk finally approached him.

"I can't believe you tried to leave," Mihawk said, shaking his head.

"Bull, you knew this was a bad idea," Doflamingo snapped back. "You know I don't like you, you probably didn't want me to come along."

"Crocodile doesn't want to be bothered, ok?"

"How would you know?" Doflamingo asked. "And why do you think this is just about him?"

"Because you're obsessive," Mihawk answered, reaching out and attempting to yank away Doflamingo's bag.

"Hey, that's MY stuff," Doflamingo yelled.

"It's MY bag," Mihawk yelled back. He reached for the bag again, but Doflamingo managed to side step away from Mihawk, accidently bumping into poor little Hancock, who, during the boy's brief argument, had moved closer to Doflamingo to take his side, and unfortunately was not closer to the pool. So when Doflamingo made contact with what he considered to be something blocking his way to freedom, he used what little developing muscle he had to push her out of the way, and that way happened to be into the pool. Whoops.

There was a loud splash, followed by the yelps and screams of the younger girls that were sitting on their towels. Doflamingo wasn't paying too much attention to the ruckus that was going on around him, of anything he was trying to take advantage of the girls panicking screams, along with the addition of panicking adults. He held on tightly to the bag and ran off, nearly slipping on the wet pavement as he tried to struggling his way out of a crowd while managing to not get caught by Mihawk.

It wasn't until he felt a terrible burning sensation beneath his feet did Doflamingo realize he successfully escaped the community pool and was no longer in possession of Mihawk. But although he had fulfilled his goal of getting away, there was something inside of him that made him feel ill, all previous passions from before wilted away with what Mihawk had said just before he had escaped.

"Am. I. Obsessive?"

Doflamingo walked over to his bike and threw the bag on the handlebar. He freed his bike from the rack and carried it along several feet till he reached cook grass. He threw it all on the ground and fell into a squat. Doflamingo nervously began to pluck at the blades of grass, feeling heart race, his head hurt, his throat tighten as he tried to not think about everyone knowing.

Maybe Crocodile didn't want him over. Crocodile knew that he was a-a-a-gay and wanted nothing to do with him during his healing process. He told Mihawk. And now Mihawk had just told him. That was it, right? That's what was really going on, wasn't it?

Doflamingo continued to pull at the blades until the slim shadow belonging to Mihawk covered his reddened body. Doflamingo pouted, refusing to look up.

"Go ahead," he growled.

"What?" Mihawk said, his voice expressing his exasperation from the previous events.

"You know I like him that way," Doflamingo muttered.

"You'll grow out of it," Mihawk responded.

Doflamingo looked up, still frowning with both hands clinging on to mutilated greenery. "How do you know? You don't know a thing about me."

"I know Crocodile," Mihawk said. "I know you're still just a kid. I know your feelings for him won't last forever. He'll grow older, and whatever you saw in him before will change."

Something about the last sentence made Doflamingo shudder. What was it about people never being quite direct with him? But the words, if anything, only made Doflamingo more desperate to see Crocodile. Because, what if? What if it was true? Doflamingo himself had noticed a change in the teen's behavior.

"I'm going to go see him," Doflamingo announced, getting up from the moistened spot. He pulled his clothes out of the bag and handed it to Mihawk, who, after some silent deliberation, took the bag from Doflamingo.

"I think you should wait till next week," he heard Mihawk say behind him. "Wait till Monday."

"He's a jackass on Monday," Doflamingo replied, getting on his bike.

"Don't you want to know what happened to that girl you pushed?" Mihawk asked.

Doflamingo rolled his eyes, this time making sure his spectacles were low enough for Mihawk to notice.

"She'll get over it," he said.

"The girl couldn't swim," Mihawk added, "like you."

Doflamingo gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's not like I'll have to see her again anyways…"


A cool breeze caused by the evening wind forced Doflamingo to make a stop about midway to Crocodile's. He changed back into his uniform, stowing Mihawk's spare trunks into his backpack. Though he was mostly dry, the rapidly cooling air made the change into his school dress let him feeling unusually grateful. By the time he made it into the small, cozy neighborhood, Doflamingo was regretting he hadn't brought a jacket with him, or hadn't left with Mihawk's spare towel.

Doflamingo walked up to the small, thing two story house smack dab in the row of many others. Like most neighborhood houses, it shared many similarities with the other tall, thing looking houses, but something about it–perhaps as a result of having noticed the lack of pictures from within–gave it a lonely, dark feel.

But Doflamingo was lucky today. He knew he wouldn't have to go inside the house today. As soon as he dropped his bike off on the porch he could detect a strong, bitter, earthy scent burning in the air. He got off the porch and walked to the gated backyard, jumped and grabbed hold of the wooden frame, and jumped over it.

He landed roughly on drying grass. The backyard was a tiny, wild, dying thing. The ground was cracked and dry, leaving very little space for grass or even weeds to grow. Crocodile's mother never had time to try to nurture it, and it seemed the more her son rested in it the more dead it appeared. But Crocodile wasn't pacing about, and was instead laying on a blanket, on his side, left hand reaching out past the field of the blanket, and fingers drilling their way into the rough terrain.

He didn't seem to notice Doflamingo.

"Hey," Doflamingo called.

He watched two tire eyes peer up at him with little interest. Crocodile seemed more relax than usual, which was to be expected once one tasted what was now in the air, but he didn't appear like someone who might have not wanted be visited by him.

"You're here?" Crocodile muttered. His hand released all the crushed gravel, now pushed down into fine, moist sand.

"Yeah."

"Oh," Crocodile went on, his voice held no animosity. Doflamingo watched the teen curl up, holding on to his lower stomach, mumbling something to his self, before forcing himself up into a sitting position. "Alright then," Crocodile said lazily.

"You're not pissed?"

"Huh?" Crocodile asked, staring at him with might be considered confusion.

"Never mind," Doflamingo said. He walked over and sat himself next to Crocodile, whose dazed expression was nowhere near being changed. He watched in silence as the older boy began to dig through his pocket, pulling out a small bag before yawning and reaching out with his right hand for something on the other side of the blanket.

"I had a shitty day," Doflamingo muttered.

"Happens," Crocodile said, pulling out a small bit of green nub from the bag. "So you came over here after…."

"Mihawk tried to teach me to swim," Doflamingo answered.

"How did that work out?"

"I told you it was a shitty day."

"Hmm," Crocodile murmured. Doflamingo grew irritated. He waited for Crocodile to finish stuffing his faux gold pipe. He wanted Crocodile to reciprocate something. The air was getting colder.

"Sorry about your appendix."

He waited for Crocodile to give some sort of response. He turned his head and looked over to his neighbor, surprised to see Crocodile staring at him with a strange look.

"What?" he asked.

"Your appendix," Doflamingo said. "Mihawk told me about it."

Crocodile's jaw dropped a little. Doflamingo watched the teen's fingers fiddle with the pipe.

Doflamingo lifted a brow. "Well..."

"Oh, thanks," Crocodile finally said. He plucked the lighter that had been lying on the blanket and brought it closer to him, along with the pipe. "Yeah, it wasn't the big of a deal."

"It wasn't?"

He watched Crocodile crack a smile, bringing the lighter and pipe up to his face. "Oh yeah, it wasn't a problem."

Was there ever an appendix? Was it all a lie?

Doflamingo eyed Crocodile's torso. Smoke was then blown into his face, causing him to back away and cough.

"Stop staring," Crocodile warned. The teen placed his pipe down and covered his lower stomach with his arm. The sudden look of concern on the young teen's face let Doflamingo that something had indeed happened.

But was an appendix involved?

"Sorry," Doflamingo said. He nudged away from Crocodile, allowing a small gap to build between them. His fingers dug into the soft fabric beneath him. He was craving a cigarette, but confusion and hurt was overtaking him. He wanted to be able to ask Crocodile anything, but he knew Crocodile would never tell a secret, especially not his own.

"You want to take a hit?"

A gold painted pipe appeared right in front of Doflamingo's face, hovering right beneath his shades, the pipe shaking just a bit from tired, intoxicated arms.

Doflamingo sighed. "No. I don't really feel like it."

"Suite yourself." Crocodile went back to lying on the blanket. Doflamingo tried to get a glimpse of Crocodile's stretched out abdomen, wondering if he might spot something, but the older boy quickly went back to resting on his side, his right hand cradling his stomach with care. But was it real?

Doflamingo sighed again. He couldn't rely on Crocodile to be honest with him. And pained him to know he was so obsessed with him.

He wished he had someone to talk to.

"I need to make real friends," he said aloud.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing," Doflamingo muttered. He got up from the blanket and walked over to the gate. Crocodile said nothing. Doflamingo doubted that the teen even noticed when he left.


-Now-

Doflamingo wasn't one to spend a lot of money on frivolous things. Though he did have money to spare, he was aware of what a precious resource it was, and, being that he was more than capable of planning ahead, disliked nothing more than wasting it on temporary pleasures.

But tonight was an exception.

"When will they be arriving?" Vergo asked.

"Soon. Very soon."

The restaurant was Spanish themed. There was an array of many bright, exotic colors, with red being the most prevalent and intense. Doflamingo and Vergo sat at the very end of the restaurant, in a private room, dedicated to them and three guests.

Doflamingo had mailed the invitation out three weeks prior, using the addresses he had known since he had last seen the three men in question. He wasn't sure if any of them still took residence in said places, but had hoped his instructions in the letter would be enough to help any stranger that might have taken claim of the letter to send it out.

The message, of course, had been cryptic. He knew better than to reveal such precious information out. They would know what to do, if either man had received the post.

"It's almost eight."

"Mhmm," Doflamingo muttered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. He eyed the open door that allowed him only a small view of the restaurant. He saw some movement, perhaps the flutter of a cloak, quickly added by the kind voice of a waitress greeting the new arrival. Doflamingo held his breath as he continued to watch and wait to see if there would be someone to celebrate with on this cool, wintery night.

Two figures appeared at the door. Vergo raised his brows, surprised at the figured that stood besides the petite waitress.

"Sir, your first guest has arrived."

Doflamingo smiled, staring at the tall man draped in heavy attire. His long, thin legs protruded from his cloak, giving a mildly surprised Vergo the chance to see just how tall this man was compared to his younger boss.

"Diamante," Doflamingo said with an exhale. "I was getting a little worried."

Diamante pursed his thick lips into a smirk.

"You worried? I don't believe it."

The taller man took a step away from the waitresses, dismissing her with the wave of his hand. He dropped his backpack, which had been till this time camouflaged amongst his unusual, worn clothing. The backpack, stuffed to the brim, produced a loud sound, causing both Doflamingo and Vergo to flinch.

"So, I take it Trebol didn't arrive yet?" The man said while removing his hat.

"No," Doflamingo answered. "Does that mean I can expect to see him tonight?"

"Tonight, tomorrow…I recently just discovered that he's in China at the moment," Diamante said, claiming the seat right across from an observant Vergo. "But he did sound plenty excited about it."

"Do you know if Pica might make it?" Doflamingo asked.

Diamante frowned. Doflamingo watched as the tall man began to draw out a letter from his cloak and handed it over to him.

"Just before I left Southern Italy," he said. "I managed to write to him."

"What did he say," Doflamingo asked with some hesitance, his fingers rubbing against the worn envelope.

"He's nearing the end of his two year mission. He sent me this letter to give to you," Diamante answered. "I'm guessing it's his complete answer."

"Two year mission?" Vergo asked.

"Don't let the religion fool you," Doflamingo answered. "Pica can be surprisingly cruel."

"Right," Diamante said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's thinking up a way out of it as we speak…assuming he's agreed to this." The man then looked around the room, and then quickly pursued the table.

"I'll have a few drinks sent our way soon," Doflamingo mentioned.

"Great. Now," the man said, exposing a crueler grin. He leaned forward, letting his height show as he hoered over the two men, staring at Doflamingo with excitement. "What do you have planned that so special you had me leave Europe, ha?"


So sorry for the late post. I have been so busy. But after being reminded I have a duty to work on this, I went ahead and spent the past two days picking out parts I wanted to post. I'm trying to be careful when putting out new characters, especially since I don't know much about many of the DQ pirates. I still plan to update this at least once a month.

Thanks for your patience and feel free to leave any compliments or criticism int he form of a review.