Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

Kyra's situation is this: there is a hugely fat man standing over her, gnawing on a piece of meat the size of her head even as he yells to his captain about how there is suddenly a half-naked girl on board. In seconds it seems that the entire crew has heard him and come to gawk.

Bottom line? She's still better off than being back with Law.

She finds herself curled into a ball on rough wooden planking, satchel of belongings hugged fiercely to her chest as she tries to figure out just where the hell her powers decided to dump her and just why in the world she isn't wearing any pants. Someone touches her shoulder and the sorceress tenses, pushing out a shield and shoving the crowd of curious pirates away from her. She spies the legs of the trousers she wore yesterday out of her peripheral vision and snags the cloth, awkwardly managing to put them on without standing up.

Belatedly Kyra realizes that she has yet to cease crying, that tears are still dripping off of her face and drawing a lot of attention from the men currently staring at her. She wonders again where exactly she's ended up. None of the men in her immediate line of sight are at all familiar.

"Hey, kid."

Now that is a familiar voice. Kyra clumsily pushes herself to her feet, protective barrier still firmly in place, and turns to face the speaker.

"Are you alright?" Red-Haired Shanks regards her from outside the barrier, his single hand resting gently on it's surface as kind eyes scan her body for injuries. Kyra doesn't answer, too busy mentally tearing her magic a new one for its colossal stupidity. She demands that it take her somewhere safe and it dumps her on the ship of a Yonkou? What kind of screwed-up logic is that?

The distraught mage digs her fingers tighter into the fabric of her satchel, pushing it hard against her chest as she contemplates where she should really go. She can't go back to Saboady; she killed a bunch of Marines there not long before Marineford and the Navy might be smart enough to think to keep an eye on the place. Should she just start hopscotching from island to island? Cross her fingers and hope that maybe someday soon she'll have a random stroke of luck and end up on the island of her birth, where her mother might still be?

Maybe she'll go pop in on Straw Hat Luffy and his brother. At least then the mage can be reasonably sure that nobody will attempt to molest her.

"Talk to me, kid," that same soothing voice pleads. Kyra snaps out of her thoughts to once again focus on Shanks, still standing there with his hand pressing against her shield and an almost kicked-puppy look on his rather handsome face.

"You remember me, right kid? I'm Shanks. We talked briefly at Marineford. I know we didn't really take the time for introductions that last visit, but better late than never right? Why don't you come out of there so we can get to know each other, okay?"

Kyra snarls at him, showing teeth. It takes a moment before she realizes that she's also crouched in a defensive position, slowly backing towards the ship's railing while crushing her satchel to her chest. Her shield shoves any pirates in her way in random directions. There is much shouting and general chaos as the crimson-haired Yonkou tries again to talk to her.

"Wait, that's not what I meant! You're way too young for me!"

Her fucking powers are not letting her leave. She is pressed up against the railing, watching the older man like a hawk as he eases towards her. Kyra doesn't want to kill him - from what she can tell, Shanks is that rare breed of truly decent man - but that doesn't mean she won't break a few bones if she has to. He's not going to lay so much as a finger on her. She'll take his last remaining arm off if he tries anything.

Shanks doesn't seem to be concerned about his wellbeing. He comes close enough to reach out and put his hand back on her shield. The sorceress snarls again, lashing out a little to hit him with a whip of magic hard enough to cut his cheek. The notorious scoundrel hurriedly takes a step back, waving his men down with that one hand even as he gives her a sheepish look.

"I just freaked you out, huh, kid? Sorry about that. Benny likes to remind me on a daily basis that I tend to stick my foot in my mouth every time I try to be dashingly debonair for the ladies. Would you believe me if I promised that none of my guys will lay a hand on you? Pirate's honor, kid, nothin' better." He plants his hand on his heart and grins so widely it's a miracle his cheeks don't crack. The Yonkou doesn't seem to care that she just attacked him, or that there's blood running down the side of his face. Nor does he bother to concede that pirates by the nature of their profession have no honor, which means that promise he's just given he is completely empty.

Kyra doesn't give a shit if he is lying or not. She doesn't plan to stick around long enough for anyone to try any funny business. So it's back to Amazon Lily. She'll go let Straw Hat drive her crazy for a few days, fend off his brother's possible questions about La... about the Surgeon of Death and why he's not with her. That she can deal with. Those two young men won't be a threat to her, not considering how much they owe her. So decided, the sorceress pulls her magic inwards and teleports away, to an island inhabited by warrior women and currently playing host to a pair of reckless boys with chips on their shoulders.

...Or at least that's what should happen. In reality, Kyra doesn't go anywhere. Her powers ignore her wishes except to keep her shielded, leaving her stranded on a strange ship with a strange pirate crew and no way to leave unless she feels up for a very long swim.

Fuck it.

"Kyra," the unhappy woman croaks in defeated reply as she finally lowers her shield, wishing desperately for water immediately afterwards. "My name is Kyra."

A happy-go-lucky grin instantly spreads across the dangerous pirate's visage, and his hand is withdrawn from her shield so that he can turn to his men.

"Alright, guys! This is my good pal Kyra! We met back at Marineford, but never got to carry out my tried and true good-pal-welcoming ritual because those idiots from the Navy were loitering around. You know what that means, right guys?"

Kyra glances around, a terrible feeling of foreboding lodging her heart in her throat. The protective encasing flies up around her again without conscious thought, and she waits with growing fear for Red-Haired Shanks to pronounce her sentence.

"PARTY!"

...What?

Apparently she is the only one at a loss. In seconds the crowd around her has dispersed, presumably to set up this party the red-haired captain has decided to throw. Kyra finds herself left on the deserted deck, alone but for Shanks and a tall man with short grey hair that looks like it was cut with a dull knife who has a cigarette clamped between his lips. The carefree grin is gone from the Yonkou's face, replaced by a kind smile.

"You're way too skinny, kid. My buddy Lucky'll fatten you up in no time. Oh, this is Benn Beckman, or Benny, my first mate and conscience," he informs her, waving that lone hand in the taller man's direction. 'Benny' gives a nod and a faint quirk of the lips that might be a hesitant smile. Kyra looks at him, takes in the eyes and the rifle tucked awkwardly through the yellow sash at his waist, and makes a mental note to kill him first if the shit hits the fan.

"C'mon, kid, pop the bubble and let me show you around! Our ship is awesome, you'll love it. Then we can party and you can tell us about yourself," Shanks blathers cheerfully. "I'll even tell you about the time I put red hair dye in all the shampoo after everybody started callin' us the Red-Haired Pirates, because I was the only one who actually had red hair and it was kinda lonely."

His first mate snorts inelegantly. "You put pink hair dye in our shampoo because you have a child's sense of humor. You've never managed to mature mentally past the age of twelve."

"Benny! You can't just go insulting me in front of a pretty girl we barely know! She might take you seriously!" Shanks looks positively scandalized at the very idea. "Honestly, Beckman, how many times have we had this conversation?"

"Often enough that you should know it's pointless by now, Captain. It's only right that someone warn the ladies about you immediately, lest you scar them for life."

Kyra's damn magic has landed her on a ship of apparent lunatics. How wonderful.

Roughly an hour later, with the impromptu party in full swing and every single one of the pirates aside from Beckman and Kyra well on their way to being shit-faced drunk, the sorceress amends her observation as she carefully juggles several laughing men in the air with her powers - per their requests. These people aren't just lunatics, they're alcoholic lunatics with serious mental issues.

"Flip me over again, kid!" the weirdo of a captain shouts from his place floating near the top of the mast, his face flushed with drink and laughter. Kyra complies with his demand, much to his evident pleasure if the noise he is making is anything to go by. She feels like she is surrounded by very large children with freakishly deep voices. They have not yet asked her questions they should be demanding, like where the hell she popped up from and why the hell she's here in the first place. They aren't locking her in a room somewhere, or hiding anything from her like she expected; in fact she's been given a tour of the entire ship, top to bottom and including every single room. They have heaped food and drink upon her and regaled her with stories that are at least three quarters bullshit if the first mate's long-suffering expression is any indication. These have to be the most trusting pirates Kyra has ever heard of.

Not to mention the stupidest.

"Sorry about him," the grey-haired first mate mutters with a casual shrug of powerful shoulders up towards his laughing captain. "He's kind of immature."

No shit.

"He's trying to get you in a good mood before he asks why you appeared out of thin air on our ship," Beckman continues nonchalantly. Kyra flinches, her attention wavering enough that at a series of shouts she is forced to quickly refocus before all the men flying around in the air can hit the deck. She sets them down gently, eyeing Shanks as he bounces up to her with a massive smile.

"Benny! You undid all my hard work!"

Beckman shrugs again, looking supremely unconcerned. Shanks gives a loud laugh as he guiltily rubs the back of his head. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little curious as to how and why you magically appeared on the ship, but it's not like I'll kick you off if you don't want to tell me! Benny makes me sound so uncharitable!"

Kyra bristles at that last word, not liking its implications. "I don't want your charity. I didn't mean to come here; I'll leave as soon as my abilities start listening to me again. I've been trying to leave since I got here, okay? I won't make you pander to the freak any longer than absolutely necessary."

Shanks looks completely confused. "What freak? Wait, are you talking about you, kid? You're not a freak!"

"Right, I'm a fucking poster child of normality," Kyra spits at him, the burning rage that swelled inside her at La - her ex-captain's betrayal rearing its ugly head again. She can't even bear to think the man's name, so great is her hurt at the remembrance of the fact that he drugged her. Anything else she would have just bitched about before getting over it, but not this. Not being drugged, being toyed with like that by someone she's... sort of grown to care for. A little bit. Maybe.

But that's beside the point. Not like it matters anyway; as she told the guy before officially leaving his crew, any time she's grown to care about anyone they end up dead or beyond her reach. Kyra did him a favor when she left this morning. She did them all a favor. She's a freak and a monster, and being around her will never be safe for anybody.

Screw that creepy sadist anyway. He'll surely have no problem finding something else to entertain himself with.

A weathered and calloused hand waves up and down in front of her face, snapping the brooding sorceress back to the present where Shanks is regarding her with concern.

"You okay, Kyra? I just gave an amazingly impressive speech about how being normal is terribly boring, but I doubt you heard a word of it."

"Don't patronize me," she hisses angrily. "Don't tell me what I am or am not. You don't know shit about me, Red-Haired Shanks."

Her magic is beginning to respond to her surge of temper. Black strands of energy are slowly curling out of her skin. The way one man with a long nose and curly blond hair is exclaiming and pointing at her face, she is sure that her eyes have bled to pitch. Sane men - like most of this crew - would be backing away in fear. Shanks and his first mate don't budge an inch.

"Wow. That's actually really cool. Hey, can you change your hair color too, or is it just the eyes?" Shanks is studying her like an excited kid who has just been handed a new toy to play with. Beckman, on the other hand, has closed his fingers around the butt of his rifle and is eyeing her cautiously.

She'll kill him if that gun clears his sash.

"Go ahead," the furious mage says, her voice dripping ice. "Try it. You die first."

"O-O-O-O-O-kay, let's all just calm down here."

Shanks has suddenly gone from excited infant to freakishly focused adult. Faster than Kyra would have thought possible, the Yonkou has moved to stand between her and Beckman and is holding his one remaining arm out to his side. The rest of his crew have gone quiet and still, watching their captain with hands on weapons and all frivolity forgotten. Kyra edges backwards cautiously, gazing darting from Shanks to his men and back in rapid succession.

She kind of wishes Bepo were here. She could use some of the bear's kung-fu ass kicking right about now.

Wait, what the hell is she thinking? Kyra does not need her ex-captain's bear. She doesn't need anybody.

She's not allowed to need anybody.

She is only supposed to be alone.

"Just trust me a little, kid," Shanks is saying, slowly moving towards her in a clearly nonthreatening manner. Her eyes zero in on that missing arm again, her magic stirring in a different way than as a response to rage. It's almost... well, pushing at her to do something, but she doesn't know what. That voice she's become accustomed to hearing around La - her ex-captain has been strangely silent all day.

"Do you really think that if I were the type of pirate that was going to kill a young lady on my ship I wouldn't have done it already, Kyra?" Shanks asks in a soft, calming voice that Kyra hates on principal because it's the same kind of tone one would use when speaking to a frightened animal. "Do you think that if I was going to kill you I wouldn't have just gotten it over with at Marineford? Benny didn't mean anything by that; he's just really cautious around people we aren't familiar with. I swear the man worries every second of every day - can't you see how grey his hair is? It's not just because of age, trust me on that. But he takes his orders from me, you know, because I am the captain. He would never hurt you in any way unless I gave a stone-cold sober order for him to do so."

His little speech does nothing to calm Kyra's nerves. Her magic is still tugging at her as though it wants her to go to the redhead, and Beckman is still watching her with a very cautious expression on his face. The older man has removed his hand from his rifle, but it won''t take two seconds for him to draw it if Kyra lets her guard down. Her powers will obviously heal her if she is shot, but even monsters feel a shitload of pain when a bullet is introduced to their innards. The sorceress is positive that if she so much as twitches in Shanks' direction the first mate will shoot her to kill.

Unless he and the rest of the crew are unable to move.

A wiggle of one finger has every man aboard the ship from the captain on down frozen where they stand. Their heads and mouths are free to move as they please, but the rest of their bodies are as good as statues. Kyra ignores the shocked yells from every direction as she slowly eases her way over until she is standing close enough to Shanks for the man's breath to hit her face. She tunes out whatever crap he might be spouting and waits for a clue as to what exactly her powers expect her to do here. A sign is soon to come: her right hand is suddenly encased in healing white magic.

"...You've got to be fucking kidding me," she mutters, glaring at her hand in a disgruntled fashion.

Kyra was not put on Red-Haired Shanks' ship for her own safety. She is not here because her magic has come to its senses and realized how dangerous it is for the girl to remain in the company of the Heart Pirates and their captain. She is here today because her fucking powers are possessed of a bleeding heart. The infamous Yonkou standing before her is missing an arm, and Kyra's magic has decided that she needs to rectify that situation.

Damn it. Whatever happened to the good ol' days, where her powers listened to pretty much any demand she made and tried really hard to keep her out of dangerous situations? Why did it decide that she has to get involved in the problems of terrifyingly powerful people? Doesn't she have enough stress in her life?

Heaving a defeated sigh for the second time in too few hours, Kyra reaches up and pushes the long black cloak off of Shanks' shoulders. She then manipulates his shirt until she can put her hand against the bare skin of the stump that is his left arm and makes sure that his previously tied up sleeve hangs loose, ignoring threats and protests all the while.

"I hate doing favors for people," the sorceress informs her paralyzed patient grumpily, rudely cutting off whatever nonsense is coming out of his mouth. "They always end up backfiring and making a mess out of everything. But it appears that if I ever want to get off this floating pile of driftwood I'm going to have to bite the bullet and help you. Don't think this makes us buddies or allies or whatever, and don't expect me to do anything for you again unless I feel like it. All this means is that my powers enjoy putting me in situations that give me major recurring headaches whenever possible."

The process begins while she speaks. Kyra doesn't bother watching the bone materialize, or the muscles and ligaments and tendons. She glances over to see skin sheathe the new limb under the healing glow of her powers, checks that there is indeed a hand sticking out of the shirt sleeve. When the entire arm from shoulder to fingers is regrown, she lets her magic fade and takes the new hand in her own.

"Do you feel this?" she asks, giving the hand a squeeze. Shanks stares at her, mouth hanging open, obviously in shock at what she has just done. It takes a few seconds before he slowly nods, curling his new fingers around her smaller ones and holding on tight. Kyra releases him and his crew from their frozen state; nobody attempts to attack her. There is a long, shivering minute of total silence as everyone processes what has just happened before -

"SHE FIXED HIM! SHE FIXED THE CAPTAIN!"

"SHE REGREW HIS ARM!"

"HOLY SHIT THAT'S SO AWESOME!"

"LET'S CELEBRATE!"

"YEAH!"

Cheers and shouts of joy assail her eardrums as the crew rejoices, most of them hugging one another and laughing like maniacs. Beckman is watching his captain with a small but genuine smile as Shanks lets go of Kyra's hand and brings his own in front of his face, staring at it as though it will disappear at any moment. He makes a fist, spreads his fingers wide, then runs them through his shaggy scarlet hair. All the while his expression of awe lingers, and when he focuses on Kyra again she can see that his eyes have grown moist.

"You... you gave me back my arm," he croaks, barely audible over all the racket his crew is making. Both of his hands come up and try to cup Kyra's face; she jerks back and steps away, eyeing Shanks warily as he rapidly shakes his head.

"No, kid, I'm not going to hurt you! I'm just - you - you regrew my arm! I just wanted to thank you! You don't even - I can't tell you how much this means to me... but..." He struggles for a moment, obviously trying to find the right words. After a pause he blurts out, "But why? Why did you do this for me? We're complete strangers, and most people wouldn't do something like this for a stranger! Holy cow, Kyra, you regrew my arm! Do you have any idea how much I love you right now?"

She doesn't, but she also doesn't really care.

"I told you, I couldn't leave until I helped you," Kyra repeats, glaring down at the hand she had used to heal as though the limb is at fault. "Sometimes my magic decides it knows better than I do, and I almost always end up getting hurt. At least this time I didn't get shot. Bullets fucking hurt."

Shanks looks trapped between ecstatic and baffled. "What, so a voice says 'regrow the handsome guy's missing arm' and you have to?"

"No voice," she corrects in a slightly distracted manner, already looking for her satchel now that her magic has been placated and she can leave. "And you're not my type. Where's my stuff?"

Definitely baffled now. "What stuff?"

Kyra waves a hand through the air, having spotted her belongings sitting over in a corner of the deck. The bag flies towards her. She catches it easily and slings one of the straps over her shoulder.

"Better really dump me somewhere safe this time, stupid magic," she grumbles under her breath as it wraps her in onyx.

"Wait, Kyra, where are you going? Don't leave yet!"

There is no time to reply as she is transported away.

Trafalgar Law is currently in a fight with a rival crew of pirates. They are an insignificant bunch whose name he doesn't care to remember, possessed of little skill and great numbers. They were stupid enough to fire upon Law's surfaced submarine mere minutes after he discovered that his magician had gone missing, after his mood had already had the chance to turn dangerously black. The Surgeon of Death had thus ordered Gable to dive the sub long enough to fire a sufficient amount of torpedoes to cripple the enemy vessel without sinking it. Once that was accomplished the Heart Pirates had resurfaced and boarded.

Now they are all watching as their captain slaughters the nameless pirate crew who made the foolish mistake of attacking the Dark Doctor on a bad day.

It's not as enjoyable as he has come to expect. These idiots are terrible fighters and pathetically disorganized. Law isn't even using his Devil Fruit abilities against them; only a scalpel or his nodachi. Bodies litter the ship's deck, and he is sure his clothing is covered in blood. The Heart Pirate captain doesn't care. He needs an outlet to his rage, and these foolish little gnats will suffice for that purpose.

Why does it bother you so much? The thought of belonging to me? Why does it have your heart pounding so hard? Why are you so afraid?

He swipes the scalpel blade across one man's throat, impales another on his sword. The one who called himself captain is already dead, and the remaining pirates are helpless without a leader. They fall before him like carelessly swatted flies.

Because I can't let myself care! I can't give a fuck about you because if I do it'll blow up in my face! Because any time I let myself give a shit about anyone they die or disappear and I can't do that anymore!

Law jabs his scalpel into a man's eye and pulls the orb from its socket before gutting the screaming victim with his sword.

I can't fucking care about you when my mother's out there alone somewhere and I'll never see her again!

He stabs another fool in the thigh, right on the artery, and leaves him to bleed to death.

I can't care when you're a fucking pirate and Merrick knows I'm with you and he'll torture you just to hurt me!

The last opponent's head is separated from the rest of his body. Law stares down at the corpse, soaked in blood and breathing heavily from his exertion. He can feel the eyes of his men on his back, can tell that they are concerned for him. He doesn't turn to assure them, doesn't so much as acknowledge their presence.

I can't care when I'm nothing but a fucking monster and being around me'll just get you killed!

A monster.

Monster.

Fucking... monster.

Law knows damn well he ordered his magician not to call herself that. Why is it that the little idiot will so easily believe the words of people who obviously hate and fear her? Perhaps it has something to do with her age when such insults were first used; there is a chance that psychological damage has been done, so that his magician really and truly believes that she is a monster. It will take some rather intense... therapy on his part to break her of that notion once he has her back on his ship. The Four Blues, the Grand Line, the New World - the Surgeon of Death will rip them all asunder until he finds and reclaims what is his.

"Captain? Orders?" Bepo is standing next to him, furry face crinkled with concern. Law never even heard the bear approach. Giving himself a shake, he takes the sheath for his sword from Bepo and puts his long blade away, stuffing the bloody scalpel in his pocket to disinfect later.

"Raid the ship. If you find anything valuable, bring it back to the sub. Tell Gable to dive once you're done and sink this piece of garbage. I'm going to take a shower."

"Aye, Captain!"

His men give him a wide berth as he stalks back onto his sub and over to the hatch. He pays no attention to their behavior; the crew knows well enough not to bother him when Law is in a mood like this one. They will give him the necessary space for the next few days so that he can work on calming down, not disturbing him unless there is an extreme emergency. Bepo will probably show up in his room tonight, like he always does when Law is in such black spirits. Something about sleeping with his head on the bear's warm and soft body helps to calm him for unknown reasons.

Tomorrow he will begin to decide what he should do. The surgeon burns to track down his AWOL crew member - he is not in the habit of allowing his crew to jump ship. A member of his command remains as such until death, no exceptions, and the very idea that Kyra thinks he will do nothing in retaliation to her abrupt departure has Law clenching his jaw hard enough to damage the enamel of his teeth if he isn't careful.

Stupid, stupid little girl.

He is halfway down the hall leading to his room when he registers the muffled screams. Someone is apparently locked in his room, and if the way they seem to be banging on the door and shrieking to be let out is anything to go by they are not pleased with the circumstances. Law finds himself less than thrilled as well: he did not lock his door before rushing off to the fight earlier, and as his crew is still topside, who the hell is in his room right now? Fishing his key out of his pocket, the Surgeon of Death throws the lock and kicks his door open, pulling out the scalpel from earlier and swiping it at the intruder.

The only reason Kyra does not die is because her reflexes are just good enough to have her throwing herself to the side, rolling under his bed and out again to hit the wall by his desk. Her pretty blue eyes are wide and terrified, her body pressed tight against the wall as though she wishes to sink through it to escape him. Her gaze darts back and forth from Law to the doorway behind him until the pirate nudges the portal shut with his foot, at which time it is exclusively fixed on him.

The lanky pirate regards her for a moment before leaning back against the doorframe with arms crossed.

"Welcome back, my magician," Law drawls, putting special emphasis on the possessive pronoun that he knows she hates. The girl flinches as though struck. Law watches in silence as Kyra scans him from head to toe, visibly trying to shrink further away from him as she processes the fact that he is splattered in copious amounts of blood. Her tongue catches the surgeon's attention as it slips from her mouth to wet her lips.

"Fucking magic," she whispers in a raspy voice. Law wonders for a moment how long she has been in here screaming.

If he had required assurance that Kyra did not return to him of her own free will, she has just provided it with those two little words. It is now apparent that his magician's powers have taken it upon themselves to deposit the girl back where they think she belongs. This knowledge does nothing to lessen his growing rage as he prowls towards her, ignoring her snarled warning to stay back. The Dark Doctor reaches out and grabs a handful of hair as Kyra tries to avoid him by vaulting over his bed, yanking her to a painful stop. In seconds he has her pinned under him on the mattress, his knee pressing into her spine and his hands twisting her arms behind her back as his weight buries her face in the bedding.

"Where have you been?" Law demands, his voice deadly quiet. Kyra squirms beneath him in a futile attempt to break his iron hold on her. She thrashes her head from side to side, growling like a crazed animal.

"Get the fuck off me, Law!"

She has not answered his question. The furious pirate twists her arms a little higher, listening as the girl chokes on a whimper at the angle.

"You have two choices," he informs her softly, his tone completely at odds with the situation at hand. "You can answer my question and tell me where you disappeared to without my permission. Or you can continue to be foolishly stubborn, and we will test how high I can force your arms before I dislocate your shoulders. It's up to you, my magician. Choose now."

"Don't call me that!" Kyra howls, never ceasing her struggle for freedom. "I'm not yours! I don't belong to you, you fucking bastard! I don't have to answer your stupid questions! I don't owe you shit! You wanna pull my arms out of socket, you sick fuck? Go ahead! Prove to everything and everyone that I'm right, that trusting you is no different than trusting Sengoku, that giving a shit about you is no smarter an idea than letting that goat-raping pervert hand me over to him! Prove that you're no better than Merrick, who did the exact same fucking thing to me just because he could! Go on! Prove me right, you bastard! Prove me right so I can leave!"

Her words are an ice-cold bucket of water, dousing the flames of Law's rage and leaving him feeling strangely empty. He readjusts her arms to a more comfortable position, moving to straddle her hips instead of digging his patela into her spine. A small portion of his brain records the fact that he is dripping blood onto the girl and onto his sheets, making a tiny note to dispose of this bedding later. Kyra is still fighting him, almost hyperventilating in her worthless efforts. He will not be letting her go anytime soon. Law gathers both of his magician's thin wrists in the strong grip of one hand, freeing the other so that he can bury it knuckle-deep in that curly mop of hair. He bends down, presses his mouth right over her ear.

"You aren't going anywhere," he whispers, not caring that his voice has gone deep and husky. "You are mine. You will never escape from me. I won't let you, and it seems that your magic won't allow it either."

"You sound like him," Kyra snarls, trying to move her head away to no avail. "He said almost the exact same thing. I got away from him, and I'll get away from you. Why are you so fucking stupid? Don't you realize what kind of danger you're putting yourself and your crew in? Do you have any idea how many times someone has died just because of being close to me? I can't stay here, dammit! Piss my fucking magic off enough that I can leave before I end up getting your whole damn crew annihilated!"

Law sits back up, removing his hand from her hair to stuff it in a back pocket. He pulls out a tiny syringe, one he carries with him all the time just to be cautious, one filled with a highly potent and fast-working sedative. Kyra is not in the mood to listen to reason. He can give her a thousand excuses as to why her panic on behalf of his crew is unnecessary and not one of them will penetrate to that stubborn brain of hers. She can't go anywhere, as her powers are not cooperating with her in her wish to flee, but he does not want to leave her loose to try something stupid in a half-cocked escape attempt.

The Surgeon of Death slips the needle into a vein in one of his magician's captive wrists, disregarding her shouted protests and keeping her trapped beneath him until the sedative begins to take effect. When the girl sags, her voice slurring mid-sentence, Law moves off of her and pulls her floppy body into his lap. Her head lolls weakly against his shoulders as she visibly fights to stay awake. Tendrils of magic rise from her skin to wrap around the both of them, but the pirate feels no fear. He doubts Kyra is even capable of hurting him anymore, whether consciously or not. He is of the opinion that she has grown to care about him too much to cause him physical pain; is that not what her little outburst had been about? Had she not said - in a roundabout way - that the only reason she tried to flee is because she cares for Law and is afraid of being the reason he gets hurt?

"No," his little magician groans weakly, struggling to raise a hand and pushing against him with all the force of a newborn kitten. "Can't shtay here. Gotta leave, you bashtard. Leggo."

"You are mine, Kyra," Law whispers gently in reply, tilting her head so that he can place his lips against her throat and enjoy the taste of her skin. "I will never let you go."

The girl is too far gone to form a retort, and the Dark Doctor holds her sleeping body for a long time after she falls into unconsciousness, reacquaniting himself with her taste and smell. He will make more of that sedative in the near future. He will not give Kyra another opportunity to leave him. He will show her that she is his, that she belongs to him and him alone, and he will teach her why that is not such a horrible fate. Eventually, when enough time has passed, Law is certain that the day will come when his magician stays with him of her own accord - for no other reason but that she can't even entertain the idea of leaving.

Until then... well, no one can ever accuse Trafalgar Law of backing away from a challenge.

A/N: Please review