X-X-X-X-X
She took one look at him and rolled her eyes.
"You look like you're going to a funeral." she said. Drake glanced at her through the mirror, fiddling with his cuffs. He'd picked out a black suit, a white shirt and a navy blue tie. He shrugged.
"It fits." he pointed out. Nike frowned at him before turning on her heel and disappearing into the racks. Drake stopped adjusting his tie and turned to look in the direction she'd gone, stuffing his hands into his pockets and waiting patiently. She returned a few minutes later with something draped over her arm.
"Try this on." she said, handing it to him. He didn't mind the suit, but he immediately balked at the shirt color.
"No." He said.
"Try it on." she repeated, eyes narrowing. He sighed, deciding to humor her. He vanished back into the dressing room to do as she asked.
They'd trekked across Miania from its West Port to the North Face, an upscale district sporting world famous restaurants, hotels, and a casino. The store they'd stopped in to get a change of clothes was expensive, like the rest of the city, but off the main thoroughfare, which meant that they were less likely to be recognized.
When Drake reemerged, dressed in the dove gray three piece suit Nike had picked out, she nodded appreciatively. The shirt that he'd so objected to was a light, neutral pink, matching the subtle pin-stripping in the fabric of the jacket and slacks. The solid gray vest and tie helped balance the whole ensemble, and he found that he actually liked the effect. The colors didn't clash with his hair, which he'd slicked back in the absence of his hat, like he'd thought they would.
Nike produced a pink pocket square from out of nowhere, which she tucked neatly into his breast pocket, patting it flat.
She took a step back and nodded in approval.
"Much better." she said.
"Excuse me, have you been helped?" They both turned to the female clerk standing at the entrance to the dressing area, several folded garments over one arm. Nike opened her mouth to speak but Drake beat her to it.
"As a matter of fact, we haven't, and the lady still needs a dress."
The woman, whose name tag read Anne, took one look at Nike and smiled brightly.
"Oh, I have just the thing." she said, setting aside the clothes she was holding before disappearing back into the racks. Nike glanced at Drake, who shrugged. She sighed, resigned to being dressed like a life-sized doll. Anne appeared a moment later, shoving something slinky into Nike's arms.
"Do you have shoes, dear?" she asked as the other woman stepped into a vacant dressing room and closed the curtains. Drake spoke for her.
"She'll need the works."
Nike could hear Anne's cooing through the curtain, but passed it off in favor of shedding her clothes and fighting her way into the dress she'd been handed.
A pair of heels were thrust through the curtain, which she accepted as well as a purse and earrings. She declined the necklace, fingering the silver pendant around her throat as she strapped on the shoes.
With a sigh, she pulled back the curtain.
Drake had been absently pulling the tags off his new suit, facing the front of the store. He saw Anne clap her hands in excitement and turned.
Nike had always been pretty in an unconventional sense. She wasn't overtly beautiful, but she wasn't unattractive. She was long limbed, thin, and in excellent shape, with muscle from years of hard work that was defined without being bulky. Her usual clothes often hid most of her body, but she always moved with a predator's grace.
But he'd never seen her look like this.
The grecian styled gown fell from her shoulders to drape in an elegant v shape, showing just a hint of cleavage. A gold belt held the heather gray fabric cinched at the waist, and from there it fell in pleated waves down to the floor. The dress seemed ideal to show off her delicate neck and fine boned features, as well as the tone of her arms. She'd unbound her hair from its customary braid and Anne stepped forward holding an ornate gold comb, which she ran through Nike's hair a few times before pulling the whole lot up in an elaborate twist, leaving a few strands to fall and frame her face.
Nike blinked, turning to observe herself in the mirror, before turning to Drake.
In heels, she wasn't quite so short next to him, eye level with his chin instead of his chest. He swept her form with his eyes before forcing himself to focus on her face.
"Perfect." he said.
Something in Nike's face relaxed, as though she'd been waiting for his approval, before she turned with a smile to Anne.
As they made their way to the counter Drake trailed behind, wondering why his heart was beating oddly fast.
X-X-X
Garp observed the couple over the rim of his glass.
If he hadn't recognized Drake immediately they could have passed for just another pair of wealthy aristocrats in a city full to bursting with the rich and powerful. Both seemed at ease, strolling arm in arm along the thoroughfare towards the restaurant where they'd agreed to meet. But everything wasn't as it seemed. Drake had abandoned his usual outfit, most notably the hat and mask, but now the prominent "x" on his chin was only slightly more attention worthy than his sharp blue eyes. Anyone who made eye contact quickly found something else to look at. He also carried himself with a sense of carefully controlled power, which made people in the crowd give him an unconsciously wide berth.
Garp was unfamiliar with the woman on his arm, but he had heard enough stories to hazard a guess as to who she was. He'd been present when the argument over the bounty for the pirate Captain's sniper came up. Poor Sengoku had nearly burst something during that debate.
The woman, Nike, had been given a bounty of 55,000,000 for her debut, but when Drake had destroyed an entire city going after a group of bounty hunters that had attacked her it had been decided that it would be lowered to 20,000,000. The significant money deduction had not gone unnoticed by the public, but had quickly been swept under the rug by other news. The vicious mauling of the group who'd tried to take her had also ensured that only the stupid tried again.
From the window of the restaurant's bar he couldn't see much in the form of facial expression, but he noted that her shoulders were tense, head tilting this way and that as she walked.
He turned to the maitre'd, informing him that his party would soon be arriving, and was shown to a table set for three, tucked away in a shadowy corner to provide some privacy. He only had a few minutes to wait before the two pirates joined him.
Up close, he was immediately captivated by the woman's light brown eyes. They had flicked around the restaurant, lingering on doors and windows, before settling on him with a surprising amount of weight. Garp shook himself mentally before standing, grinning as he extended a hand to the former Rear Admiral.
"Drake, how have you been?" he asked enthusiastically. Drake shrugged nonchalantly, shaking Garp's hand while Nike's remained tucked into the crook of his other arm. It wasn't until the two men let go that she stepped away from him, letting her hand drop.
"I'm well, what about you?" It was something of a loaded question, as the world had been privy to Garp's family troubles only a week before. But the other man waved a hand dismissively.
"Fine, fine. Looking forward to beating some sense into my grandsons, but what else is new?" He said, before turning to Nike. Something like sadness flickered across his face before it was obscured once more by his smile. He extended his hand to take hers, bending over it in an old fashioned gesture.
"You must be Nike. I've heard quite some stories about you at headquarters, young miss." He said.
"Highly exaggerated, I assure you." She replied. Drake had asked that she be on her best behavior, so she would be civil, if alert. Garp chuckled, before holding her seat out for her. She hesitated for only a moment before accepting, folding her hands in her lap while the two men seated themselves.
Garp's expression changed from open to serious in a heartbeat.
"There are many who say you're the reason for Drake's defection." He said. Drake's jaw tightened and he made to speak out in Nike's defense, but she beat him to it.
"Are you looking for someone to blame, Garp-san?" she asked quietly. The two stared each other down for several long moments, black eyes to light brown, before Garp's smile returned and he chuckled.
"Not at all, Miss Nike, but I can see why he keeps you around," he said. She made a slight humph noise in the back of her throat.
The waiter chose that moment to appear. Garp ordered a bottle of wine, to which Drake agreed, but Nike politely declined. The former Admiral raised an eyebrow.
"I won't drink with you here." She explained. Garp snorted.
"You don't trust me." He stated. Nike's face remained neutral, but her tone was sharp.
"That's right."
Garp chuckled.
"Good girl," he said, patting the hand she had resting on the table. She stared him down and he rolled his eyes. Drake chose that moment to speak up.
"What did you want to talk about, Garp?" he asked. The former Admiral turned black eyes on the pirate captain before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Impel Down." He said.
"What about it?"
"I'm sure you're aware of the breakout during the battle of Marine Ford?" Drake and Nike both nodded. Garp sighed again.
"There was another incident around the same time, involving Teach." Drake lifted his lip in a silent snarl at the man's name, feeling his teeth sharpen, but Nike's hand on his arm made him pause and he schooled his features once more.
"What kind of incident?" she asked. Garp paused, a deep frown etching itself across his face, making him appear suddenly very, very old.
"Teach told the prisoners on level 6 to fight amongst themselves, and the winner from each cage would be set free. He took 4 with him into the New World, but there are many who escaped in the chaos and have not been found."
Nike's grip on Drake's arm tightened, knuckles nearly white as she stared across the table at Garp. The two men sitting with her had lived with the reality of Impel Down, but she had heard enough stories in her time to feel the stirrings of fear in her gut. Even a single prisoner from level 6 could be lethally dangerous if unleashed on the civilian population, let alone an untold amount, but that wasn't what made her blood run suddenly cold.
"Why haven't we heard anything about this?" She whispered. Garp's expression took on a hint of anger.
"The World Government has refused to issue a statement or wanted posters for the escaped prisoners because they believe that such a breakout would cause the world to lose trust in them." He said with a grimace.
"Idiots." Growled Drake. It was Nike's turn to bare her teeth in a snarl.
"Do those fools really believe that is for the best? That they can sweep something like this under the rug? They are releasing wolves into a fold of sheep!" she exclaimed, anger coursing in her veins. Drake took her hand, giving it a squeeze and she closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to calm her temper. When she opened her eyes they were nearly gold with rage, but her voice was calm when she spoke.
"Why tell us this?" she asked. Garp regarded the two for a moment before letting out a heavy breath.
"Because someone needs to know." He turned black eyes to Drake. "You may have left the Marine's, but I know your code of honor has not changed."
The two pirates lapsed into silence, Nike lacing her fingers with those of her Captain while she fell into her thoughts. What could they possibly do? Spread word of the breakout? Who would believe them? Many pirates would see it as an advantage, uncaring for the loss of a few insignificant civilians. She frowned in concentration.
Drake watched Nike's eyes glaze over as she retreated into her own thoughts. He knew that, at that moment, her mind was working a million miles a minute, forming and discarding countless plans and strategies in a matter of eye-blinks.
The waiter reappeared, pouring drinks for the two men and leaving water for Nike, before providing menus and vanishing again. They didn't speak again until he'd returned, they'd ordered, and he'd left again.
"How goes your travels? I hear you had a run in with a few of the other Supernovas at the Archipelago." said Garp. Nike pulled a face and Drake chuckled, answering Garp's unspoken question.
"Broke up a fight between Urouge and Killer, but then Trafalgar stuck his nose into things and Nike took offense." he explained. One of Garp's eyebrows rose.
"You did, did you?" he asked her. She snorted.
"No one threatens my Captain and gets away with it." She said testily. Garp cast Drake a knowing look while Nike was distracted with unfolding her napkin, causing the other man to tense, before chuckling.
"I can see why."
X-X-X-X-X
/AN/
Finals were last week, so to recuperate I spent the three day weekend sleeping and writing.
You're welcome.
Nike's a Taurus, which makes her highly loyal and incredibly stubborn.
I really didn't want to spend too much time describing their clothes, because I sometimes find that highly irritating in a story, but I felt that the "costumes" that the pirates (especially the Captains) wear every day are such an integral part of their character that any break from that would be significant.
Next chapter continues the "Dinner" arc, so be prepared for more Garp antics.