Buggy removed the toothpick, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger while a vein popped out on his forehead. He leaned his head against the back of his hands. The young girl was helping the chef with washing the dirty dishes which stayed in the sink during the whole night. She was talking and laughing on the lame jokes he was telling her, from time to time she made an eye contact with the Captain with a grin on her face. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, showing his teeth a bit at the same time.
The blue haired clown recalled a moment when her father was in the same situation. Standing at the same spot just like her, his lame jokes and laughter could be heard all over the ship, Crocus and Seagull laughing along with him. Rayleigh was nowhere to be found, he was most probably talking with the Captain, as he usually did. He wasn't spending too much time in the kitchen. If he wasn't hungry – he wouldn't go there; or so he said.
As it happened many times before, it happened now too. Shanks was standing near the table with a cloth in his left hand, switching it into his right one from time to time while Crocus and Seagull were washing the dishes and laughing. When the last plate was clean and all was on its original place, the three young men sat down near the Clown. Crocus took the bottle of sake from the table and was about to take a sip when the red haired youngster yelled in surprise.
"Hey!" He said. "What about us?!" He crocked a brow his way. He had his hands on the table, waiting for the glass to be passed his way. Or for his liking, the bottle itself.
The man laughed wildly, Crocus held his bottle to his lips, tipped it and sipped slowly. He'd drunk enough liquor in his life to put anyone under the table. Shanks put his finger to his lips in a gesture for silence and took out another bottle of rum from the cupboard. He opened a bottle of spiced rum, tipped some into his glass and passed it to his fellow friend.
"Let's have a great feast!" He drank it like it was water. Crocus looked at them in disbelief; he drank, pausing only to catch his breath. Buggy took the bottle and looked at the label.
"Captain Morgana," he said in awe. He never saw such an expensive drink before. All of them downed their drinks in one shot. Shanks poured another round and they continued until their cheeks turned red and their eyes were heavy.
He was sitting in his office in the late afternoon when there was a knock at the door. Bepo, waited for the Captain's answer to enter. After he did so, he went in to inform the Captain about the situation outside. He told him about the supplies situation but Law seemed unconcerned, his mind was elsewhere - where it should not be. His thoughts wondered back to that certain memory, that woman who bewitched his mind. He longed to talk to her again.
He recalled how beautiful she looked, holding a book in her hand while arguing with an older man, the wind gently blowing through her hair. He was sending her away and she was arguing about it. She could not believe that this man was selling cheap weapon copies. While they were busy arguing, Law walked closer so that he could hear what the matter was. The older man started cursing at her and telling her how she knew nothing about these things.
Her brows furrowed annoyingly. "How dare you!" She faced the old man, holding a weapon now.
"See?" She showed him the weapon's holder. The old man clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"This is wrong, all wrong! It should be wrapped in leather and not cloth!" She wore an expression of mock anger, her brow furrowed in a feeble attempt to look stern. She looked adoring, he had to admit.
The old man's mouth dropped open, his cheeks reddened and a vein popped out in his forehead. He was not giving up on this fight; he was ready to fight back with all his might. Law saw how the man was going under the table with his other hand, he knew what was coming. He took a few steps closer and took the weapon out of the girl's hand.
"She is right." He said without looking at her. Law stared at the man intensely, not taking notice of the young woman next to him. His eyes were showing him how he might end if he is going to drag out that weapon from under the table. Law gave him a chance to think twice before doing something. The old man gulped hard, a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead as he admitted his defeat and sat down on the chair like an insulted five year old child.
He recalled his emotion when their eyes first met, when he defended her from the vulgar man. She smiled at him and gently smacked his shoulder in a friendly way. Law's eyebrow rose and he cocked his head to the side. The young girl laughed at his action, he was even more lost now. What was so funny? Did he do something odd? Or was it something else? What was it? He wanted to know, he was growing curious.
"I'm sorry." She giggled, looking at him, clearing her throat.
"It's just a habit I picked up from my dad." She said up under her breath as her smile slowly faded away. They sat down on a nearby bench.
"Thank you for your help, but I could handle it myself." She looked up at the sky with dreamy eyes.
"I could tell." He nodded and looked at her. Law kept his features calm as the thought raced through his mind while he studied her. He had studied her face much as he studied the anatomy papers. Her porcelain-smooth skin, her pink cheeks, he was immersing his vision in every single detail. Her fingers played nervously with each other.
He was silent for a long moment which caught her attention. She called out to him. When he didn't reply, she looked up and saw him staring at her. The expression in his eyes was so intense that she wondered if something is wrong.
"I still don't know your name, sir." His eyes blinked faster as he was brought back to reality. Hearing the word sir leaving her lips made him laugh.
"No sir," he said. "Law, it's Law. And you are?" She looked away for a moment.
Then, looking back to him, she said "I don't tell my name to strange men I just met." He cocked an eyebrow and sighed.
"Well then, red-head. You are a mysterious one aren't you?" She wasn't sure how she felt about this nickname. She was not sure if this was a good or a bad thing, probably it was good. She giggled and nodded.
"So, what are those tattoos? Are you a criminal or something?" She leaned her back against the bench as she watched tattooed man was unsure how to react; however lying wouldn't get him anywhere. So he decided to nod and watch her reaction closely. She only hummed in response. This was not the kind of reaction he was expecting, maybe panic and yelling, calling for help. However, this caught him off guard – which was a rare thing.
"I see. You are kind of like my dad then." She smiled to herself as she looked away from the dark haired man. He was even more curious now. He watched her carefully, taking in every detail of her face. Her hair glowed a darker shade of red beneath the sun, the wind waving her hair from one side to another, her eyes searching for something.
As he was about to ask about her father, his fellow crew member interrupted him, running towards him calling him to come back to the ship.