Disclaimer: I do in no way, shape or form own the series One Piece; Eiichiro Oda does. Neither am I making any type of monetary gain off of this fanfiction; I am merely looking to improve my writing. I do not own the picture used as a cover for this story, either. That is taken from google, and unless I am entirely mistaken, is made by someone calling themselves zerocustom1989. All credits for the picture go to that person.

Location 3:

Fishman Island, Ryuuguu Palace

He tipped back yet another bottle of (delicious, high-quality) sake. The rough trip here aside, he was coming to like Fishman Island (hell, he would have admitted to liking Whiskey Peak, too, if they had had alcohol this nice). Brook and the shitty cook could fawn over the mermaids all they wanted (not that #7 would be able to... hah, he still wanted to laugh at that; the irony); as far as he was concerned, Fishman Island would be remembered for its alcohol. They certainly knew how to treat a guest, that is for sure.

He reached for a new bottle as he snorted; he had made the right choice in beginning before the rest of the crew arrived (if he had waited for them, the Witch would probably have tried to drink away his alcohol from him... not that there seemed to be any shortage or anything, but still). The guards (or soldiers or servants or whatever they are) had seemed confused about the decision, though... He could not really understand why; it is not like his crewmates are weak or anything; they will be just fine, no matter what this island decides to throw at them (and since the rumours of the Strawhat Pirates had reached even this place - he had heard the whispers - the guard-people should know that). Perhaps he had just gone against some kind of etiquette or something (but seriously, he was a pirate, what did they expect?), he thought as he shrugged, uncorked the new bottle and took his first mouthfuls from it (and it was just as good as the ones that had gone before).

He was just about done with that bottle (the eighth, unless he had made some kind of counting mistake), when the feeling in the room suddenly changed and became restless.

He tried to ignore it (he really did; he was having too much of a good time to let anything interrupt it if he could help it), but when the feeling went from restless to hostile, he figured that he really should do something about it. Key word being should. This was some really high-quality stuff; it would be such a shame to let it go to waste (after all, it would probably be a while until he would have a chance at something as good as this again). So, thinking it over, he shrugged and decided to keep up with what he was doing (if anything annoying came up, he could deal with it later).

He actually had time to finish up both his eighth, ninth and tenth bottles before the guard-people got their acts together and did something other than just shifting and whispering (and a good thing, too, as he had been starting to get restless despite the excellent sake). Wiping off his mouth, he grinned as Sandai Kitetsu rattled in its sheath. He had never really been against a bit of dinner entertainment, and this might prove to be fun (after all, fishmen and merpeople were supposed to be strong, right?).

As the guard-people launched at him, though, he was disappointed (really disappointed; was that really all they had, or were they underestimating him?). Sure, they were decent, but he had been expecting a bit more than decent from the royal palace (okay, so maybe he was just setting his standards a bit too high after the sake, but really?).

Grumbling and re-sheathing Sandai Kitetsu after the highly unsatisfying fight, he wondered if he should just grab another bottle and sit back down when he noticed something at the edges of his senses. He could not help the grin that sneaked back onto his face as he realized what it was.

It seemed like they were leaving him out of the merry-making.

This story is dedicated to my fantastic friend Vendelareader, as a present to her! :D

Reviews make me a very happy fish :)