I ship them, I'll just go ahead and confess right now.
If there was one thing Olivier Mira Armstrong hated more than anything, it was having blood on her gloves. It stank and cracked and was generally unpleasant. She wasn't in the least bit squeamish, but it just seemed so unnecessarily barbaric to prance about in stained gloves.
She stared at the bloody gloves in disdain. She had given a cowardly underling a bit of a poke with her sword, and she hated a bloody sword more than she hated bloody gloves.
So there she was, lamenting the stain.
Buccaneer walked in, his arm and his automail behind his back.
"What is it?" she asked with a lofty sigh.
He tossed a pair of fresh gloves onto her lap, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"You hate having blood on your gloves, right?" he said, smirking.
Tossing away the stained gloves, she replaced them with the pristine ones.
"Keep extras."