X-X-X-X-X
Warning: This chapter contains bad language, a fight scene, and the deaths of enemies.
X-X-X-X-X
It had to be a fucking Winter Island.
Nike kept the few choice words she had about this particular island to herself, even if the rest of the crew didn't, but that didn't stop the waves of anger rolling off of her from collecting around her Captain like an enraged little thundercloud. Drake knew very well what she thought about cold, and snow, but he had ignored it in favor of stopping to top off their supplies.
Fishman island had been uneventful, if interesting. They'd passed through without incident, stopping only long enough for the triple log pose to set.
Drake sighed, feeling his sniper's angry gaze on the back of his head. It wasn't his fault that the first island they'd come to had been covered in snow. He glanced back at Nike, taking her in. Despite being born in North Blue, she had never fully acclimated to the climate, always wearing heavier clothes to ward off the chill. While Drake was content to wander around in his usual getup, she was wearing a heavy jacket, thick boots, and a knit hat pulled low over her ears, leaving only her eyes visible over her scarf. It would have been comical if she hadn't been sending death glares his way.
Nike hated the cold for the way it got into her bones and made it impossible for her to wield her weapons properly. Having to wear gloves to ward off frostbite made firing a gun rather difficult, after all.
That didn't stop her from shouting a warning when the icicles started raining from the sky.
When the smoke cleared Nike was crouched beside Drake, eyes fixed ahead, both pistols drawn. How she had gotten to his side so fast he didn't pause to think about, instead facing down the huge metal faced man now standing before them, flanked by a dozen smaller men.
"This is Kaido-sama's favorite island." said the huge stranger, who Nike was now close enough to identify as "Iron Boy" Scotch. "And I'm in charge of guarding it."
Drake blinked, and by the shift in his stance Nike could tell he was planning something. The very mention of Kaido's name gave her a good inclination as to what.
"And?" he asked. "What do you want from us?"
"Nothing," said Scotch. "I'm just warning you. You better not piss him off, rookie."
Nike's eyes twitched at that last comment, fingers tightening around her pistols while she shifted, eyes sliding from Scotch to sweep over the men behind him. They were all small fry pirates working for Kaido, riff-raff he must have picked up along the way. Certainly none of them were strong enough to pose a threat to her Captain.
Drake was speaking again.
"You mean, if I kill you or something, Kaido won't forgive me?" he asked, and the tone of his voice made the hackles on the back of Nike's neck stand on end.
Scotch grunted an affirmative.
"That's right." He said. "Now, why don't you just..." but he was cut off by Drake.
"That makes things much simpler." he said. Lightly tanned, smooth skin gave way to rough green, blue eyes turning yellow and feral as the body expanded, suddenly towering over everyone, razor sharp teeth bared in a bastardization of a smile.
She may have been expecting it, but even if she hadn't she wouldn't have reacted as strongly as the rest of their crew. Some jumped, others jerking in surprise. Being around him had obviously not desensitized his men to Drake's change. As it stood, Nike was the only one left standing beside him, shoulder pressed lightly against the outside of his left leg.
Some would consider it a dangerous place to be, being so close, but in her opinion it was better for her Captain to know where she was. It lessened the possibility of him accidentally stepping on her.
"Oh?" Scotch mused, eyes wide as he stared. "An ancient Zoan type? How rare." he seemed oddly unfazed, which set off warning bells in Nike's head. It wasn't until he drew the fearsome looking triple barreled gun from his sleeve that she understood why.
Drake threw back his head and roared in challenge, lunging forward.
Nike snapped into action, lifting her arms and pulling twin triggers without conscious thought, felling the two men on either side of Scotch in the time it took him to fully aim at her Captain. It took her two-seconds to switch the used pistols for the ones in her shoulder holsters, getting off another clean headshot as Drake clamped his jaw down on Scotch's arm, crunching through metal and flesh with disturbing ease.
By the time the rest of their crew charged in, swords drawn and guns blazing, the blood was pounding in Nike's ears, drowning out the sounds of battle. She had eyes only for the great reptile a few yards away, shaking his head savagely, Scotch's arm still clamped between razor sharp teeth as the man wailed in protest.
If she hadn't been paying such close attention, she would have missed him.
A man was sneaking up behind them, around Scotch's other side towards Drake's unprotected right.
She didn't remember pulling her rifle, but it was suddenly in her hands and she was staring down the sights, eyes unblinking as she let out her breath, taking it in again and holding it. The loss of resistance under her finger told her the gun had fired, followed by the plume of blood that erupted from the man's head as his skull was blown out, showering bits of bone fragment and brain matter across the snow.
And then it was over, and they were standing amidst corpses. Scotch was moaning softly, face down in the snow, but Drake seemed disinterested, having moved to stand over Nike. Oddly enough, she wasn't cold anymore.
He stared down at her with yellow eyes and she stared right back, adrenaline still rushing through her. He shrank, suddenly standing before her as a human, eyes once more the blue she was so familiar with. She blinked, then flexed her hands, realizing she had a white-knuckled death grip on her rifle. She slung it over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at her Captain.
"Now what?" she asked. He held her gaze for a moment before signaling for the rest of the crew to head back to The Red. When they were out of sigh he turned around, kicking Scotch in the side almost absently, making the other man groan in protest.
"This one will return to Kaido with our message." he said.
"And in the meantime?"
Drake grimaced.
"An...old friend contacted me, says he needs to speak with me. In person." Her other eyebrow rose to join its twin.
"An old friend?" her voice was dangerously low, eyes narrowing. He sighed, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck absently.
"Garp wants to meet up two islands from here, in Miania." he said.
Nike frowned, thinking. True, Garp the Hero had, for all intents and purposes, left the Marines. It'd been a big to-do in the papers in the aftermath of the Battle of Marine Ford. At the same time, she was highly uncomfortable letting her Captain meet with a man who had been so faithful to the Marines as to go against his own family.
She finally raised her eyes to Drake, who was studying her. She scowled at him.
"You'd made up your mind about going before you told me." she stated. He nodded and she sighed.
"You know how I feel about it." she said, feeling weary. He nodded again, before turning his body slightly so he was facing her fully.
"I wanted you to come with me." he said. She blinked, having not expected it. Asking her to accompany him wasn't unusual. It was the fact that it was Garp that made it odd. After a moments consideration, she spoke again.
"Where on Miania?" she asked.
"Some fancy restaurant on the North Side." he replied, shrugging. She frowned, wracking her brain for a moment, before looking down at herself.
"I don't own anything fancier than this." she pointed out. Drake chuckled, before motioning for her to follow him. He started walking in the direction their crew-mates had gone and she fell into step beside him.
"We'll find something at the island. The restaurant may be upscale, but Garp's not picky."
She sighed, feeling the last of the tension from the battle leave her frame.
"Alright then," she said. "Something with pockets, or I'll have to get a garter." she mused, mostly to herself. Drake stopped dead, nearly tripping over his own feet before he turned startled blue eyes to her. She blinked at him, having stopped when he did, pulled from her thought.
"What, you expected me to go in unarmed?" she asked him, before continuing on ahead, leaving him staring after her in surprise.
He shook his head, a smile spreading across his face.
She really was something.
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/AN/
And Nike finally gets to shoot something.