Hello everyone! After much waiting, writer's block, and new video games, I'm finally back with the next chapter.

I don't own One Piece or any of it's characters. This fanfic is written purely for amusement.

Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 13

It was two in the morning. The Moby Dick was quiet in terms of activity. Nothing to be heard but the occasional drunken snore of one of the partiers from earlier in the night.

Ace tiptoed across the deck, careful not to step on any of the passed out men that covered the place. He was free to go as he chose, he might as well make the best of it. He thought back to the day before.

(flashback starts)

Ace sat slumped against the guardrail, his head in his hands. Sitting on the rail above him was that Thatch guy. He was swinging his legs like a child, not saying anything, but watching Ace out of the corner of his eye. After a little while, he broke the silence. "Don't you want to know what happened to your crew?"

Ace felt a shock at the mention of his crew. He thought they would have been far away by now.

"They came back here with the intent to save you. We kicked their asses, though."

Ace looked up at Thatch in alarm.

"Don't worry." he said, laughing at his expression. "They're all alive. I said we kicked their asses, not killed them. They're here now under our care."

"Where are they?" Ace asked.

"They're recovering in sickbay at the moment."

They sat in silence for a second.
Ace frowned. "Say, why are you guys just letting me run around the ship without restraints?"

Thatch smiled. "Because that would be absolutely unnecessary."

(flashback ends)

Absolutely unnecessary indeed. Ace had been to nearly every room around the upper deck, including the kitchen, and there had been no one to stop him or even notice. He heard where Whitebeard slept from an overly talkative crewman earlier, and that was where he was heading now.

They're overconfident. he thought. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when I take out their captain.

Ace stepped up to the captain's door, and slowly, carefully, pushed it open. His heart leapt when the door gave a soft dramatic creak.

Whitebeard was sleeping peacefully, splayed on the bed, his scarred chest rising and falling with each snore.

Something at the back of Ace's mind wondered how the hell anyone on the ship got any sleep with that noise.

He turned his lower half to fire, and flew across the room to where the old man was sleeping. He drew a knife from his belt.

Now you'll get yours, Old Man.

Ace moved to stab him right in the heart.

Just then, Whitebeard opened an eye.

Crash!

Ace rolled across the deck and hit the rail in a dazed ball of pain. That crazy old geezer had punched him right through the wall! And he had the nerve to continue snoring even after that!

A couple of people sneaking about the deck with open bottles of grog stopped and stared at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" the shorter one said in a hoarse whisper. "You'll wake everyone on the ship up with your racket!"

Ace rubbed his sore neck. "Dammit!" he muttered, "I'll get him next time, even if it kills me!"

(one week later)

Crash!

I raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

Thatch, who was preparing some breakfast for the second division, snorted. "What is it, his seventh attempt this week?"

"Eighth." I corrected, taking a swig of grog. "If you include the time he tried to stab Pops in the back last night." I swished my drink around in the mug. "I don't understand why the hell Pops keeps him around. He's done nothing but cause trouble and try to kill him."

Thatch laughed. "Ah, relax, Zia. He's just going through a phase." He flipped an egg, and expertly caught it behind his back with the pan. "He's no threat, and if Pops wants him to stay, he stays."

I shrugged. "Gah. He's getting soft if he wants to keep someone like that around out of pity."

Teech laughed. "It's not pity, Zia! Just think of all of us! We're all Pops' children, and he thinks that! Ace is just a problem child, that's all."

I rolled my eyes. He's a problem, all right.

(fifty days later)

"I can't believe this is still going on." Zia muttered.

Marco smiled. "You can probably tell how much time has gone by just by the last bungled assassination attempt."

"And Pops still keeps him around."

"You just don't understand, Zia." Marco said, patting her shoulder.

"He doesn't exactly do anything." she said. "Well, except try to off our captain."

Marco shook his head. Zia had always had something against their new friend Ace. Every time he passed her, she would glare at him in the strangest way. He pushed her sideways, playfully. "I bet a game of Marco Polo would cheer you up."

Zia rolled her eyes. "Marco, I'm-"

"Polo!" he interrupted, poking the back of her head. Then, he flew off.

Zia sighed and covered her eyes with her hand. "Oi, Marco, I'm not going to go along with this anymore... I'm not a child..."

(Five days later)

I strolled across the deck, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun on my face. It was nice, and fairly quiet, for the Moby Dick, anyway. When I passed the first mast, I noticed Teech by the rail.

"Hey, Zia!" he called.

I stepped over to him, and grinned. "Hey." I said. "What's up?"

Teech shrugged. Then, he grinned and poked me in the arm with his elbow. "Say! What do you think of this Ace character? He's quite dreamy, isn't he?"

I rolled my eyes. "Teech, there are quite a few holes in your insinuation." I leaned on the rail next to him. "He's three years older than me, he slumps around in a perpetual sullenness, he tries to murder Pops on a daily basis, he constantly grinds his teeth, and he smells funny." As if it proved my point, I flipped a strand of hair over my shoulder.

Teech just threw back his head and laughed even harder. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

I felt my ears get hot. "Sh-shut up, Teech." I smacked my cheeks with my hands. Why the hell was I getting embarrassed. Nothing about Firefist Ace intrigued me; nothing about him provoked me in any way other than a slow, grating annoyance. So why the hell was Teech's stupid comment making me squirm?

Teech patted my head. "He's a bad boy. Closest to you in age," His grin spread. "And he's got a charm to him."

I rolled my eyes. The trouble was, this was starting to become a recurring theme around the ship.

I had overheard Flossy, Miriam, and Clara talking in our shared quarters a little while ago.

(Two days ago)

"He's kinda dreamy, isn't he?"

I sat up in my cot, and turned to Flossy. "Say what?" I raised an eyebrow. I had noticed Flossy, who is the youngest of the nurses at twenty, eyeing Firefist lately.

Flossy giggled. This woman is twenty. She was giggling. "You heard me, Zia. Ace. He's so dreamy."

Miriam and Clara were sitting next to flossy on her cot. Clara's curly hair swayed with the motion of her head. "I have to agree. I mean, look at that hair."

I wrinkled my nose. "Clara, he's five years younger than you."

Clara just shrugged. "You're too young, Zia. You don't know that age is just a number."

Flossy looked up at me. My cot is right over hers, and I tilted my head, so my sightless eyes met hers through my dangling feet. "He's got a very handsome face. The behaviour is just a phase."

"That phase," I spat out the word, like it was poison, "involves trying to kill Pops every day."

"Oh Zia," Flossy chuckled, "He'll get over it. I mean, did you see that look in his eye." she giggled. "So handsome!"

I flopped back on my cot and crossed my ankle over my knee. "The look in his eye. Who am I to argue with that?"

Miriam, who was generally easy to get along with, sighed in irritation. "Okay, Zia. Joking about your blindness. Don't make fun of Flossy that way."

I shrugged. "He smells like feet and fire."

"He's made of fire."

I didn't respond to that right away. Normally the women's barrack was one of the best places for me to relax, despite the fact that there were eleven of us sharing a comparatively small room. Today, though, I couldn't deal with it.

I jumped down from my cot, startling Flossy as I hit the floor. "Okay. You guys can fantasize about the flaming, foot scented annoyance with a dreamy look in his eyes all you like." I said, my tone dry. "I'm going out for a walk."

That was two days ago. And these discussions among my roommates had become more and more frequent. It was annoying.

Teech leaned his arm on the top of my head. "So..." he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "what are your thoughts?"

I stood up and shook my head. "Absolutely nothing at all." I started thinking of any kind of excuse that would convince Teech to let me go so I didn't have to deal with this anymore. My racing thoughts were cut off by a very loud crash, then a splash.

"Hey! Zia!" I heard Marco calling from the stern. When I stepped to his side, he pointed to the broken railing. "Pops just knocked Ace into the water. Can you dive in and get him out?"

I took a step back and did my best to look disgusted by his request. "No."

I heard Pops sigh. "Zia. Don't be difficult."

I gritted my teeth and let out a frustrated growl. "Fine." I pulled off my combat boots, and peeled off my jacket and let it fall to the deck. I stood at the edge of the broken rail for a second, getting up my nerve.

I'm a lunatic. I thought sullenly. Then I dove in.

The waters were frigid, the cold cutting into my skin like a thousand knives. Swimming wasn't my favourite activity under normal circumstances, and I wasn't really eager to save this guy.

I could sense Firefist down about twenty feet, sinking like a stone.

I knew I wasn't going to catch him in time if I spent any more time waffling. I gave a swift kick, and propelled myself downward. My skin had already numbed when I was halfway to him, so I ignored my mind and it's rational thought, and kicked harder.

By the time I caught up to the hammer, my lungs were burning. I figured I had about thirty more seconds before I passed out from oxygen deprivation.

I hooked my arms under Firefist's arms, holding him tight to my chest, so I didn't lose him. My oxygen starved mind was reeling, but I managed to hold onto just enough reason to focus for a geppo. I kicked the water underneath me, propelling us to the surface.

Noticing the change in water pressure, Firefist started to squirm in my grip.

Quit struggling, you idiot!

I strengthened my grip around him to keep him from killing us both with his own stupidity.

We both gasped when our heads broke the surface. I struggled to keep myself and the struggling deadweight above water.

A rope hit the water, and I grabbed onto it.

By the time we were pulled onto the deck, I was tired, sore, and shivering from the cold wind. I dropped Firefist on his back on the deck.

He was staring directly at me. His jaw was slack, like he was staring at me in incredulity. "You..." he gasped, his breathing laboured from the long dip, "you saved me..."

I picked up my jacket and boots from the deck. "Don't thank me. You owe your life to these guys." I jerked my head at Marco and Pops. "I would have let you drown."

With that, I turned and left for... wherever.

(Thirty six days later)

Ace worried his lower lip. He was sitting against the rail, the rungs digging into his back. His head ached from his most recent assassination attempt, and he was starting to get discouraged. Not to mention the fact that, over the past hundred days or so, some of Whitebeard's nurses had been eyeing him with interest. That didn't bother him so much, especially not the pretty one with the nut brown hair and the big blue eyes. What did bother him was the completely different way the other girl, Zia, treated him with as much disdain as the other women seemed interested in him.

When he wasn't trying to take down the old man and failing miserably each time, he had to deal with this girl's attitude. Every time he crossed her on the deck, which was surprisingly frequent, she would glare at him with those creepy looking green eyes and flip her long red ponytail over her shoulder. Then, she would turn on her heels and stalk off.

It was all so confusing. How could such an outwardly pretty girl, not to mention one that was probably about the same age as his kid brother, could be so hostile. He may be trying to kill Whitebeard, but the rest of the crew was friendly. That was just as disarming as Zia's hostility.

This thoughts were interrupted by the clink of a bowl on the deck beside him. "No attempt on Pops' life today?" A familiar voice joked.

Ace looked up to see the Whitebeard Pirates' first division commander, Marco, crouching in front of him, a bowl of soup just in front of him. He was regarding Ace with an air of sympathy.

Ace gritted his teeth. "Why do you people call him Pops?" he finally asked. It was a question that had been scratching at the back of his mind. It was driving him crazy.

Marco sat down next to him, and smiled. "Because he considers us his sons... Or daughter in Zia's case." he laughed out loud when he saw Ace wince. As a side note, he chuckled, "She's been giving you a hell of a time, hasn't she? I caught her giving you a look that said she'd smash your face in as soon as look at you."

"But even she's a member of your... family."

"That's right." Marco smiled brightly, his droopy eyes and eyebrows raised. "It makes us feel good, whether he really means it or not." He patted Ace on the shoulder, and hoisted himself onto his feet. "It means a lot to us." With that, he turned around and walked away.

Ace stared at the bowl of soup in front of him. He tentatively picked it up, as though the clay would burn through his hands, and then brought the rim to his lips. To his surprise, it was really good. He drained the bowl, and put it down on the deck.

Ace stood and stretched. Then, took a deep breath. He strode down the deck to the stern, where Whitebeard's throne of a chair sat, right at the back of the ship.

The old man was sitting back on the chair, surrounded by five of the nurses - including the pretty brown haired, big eyed girl, ace noticed - drinking grog from a huge flagon that was about the size of Ace's torso. When he noticed Ace emerge from the corner, Whitebeard put his flagon down and waved away the nurses. "Hello there, Ace." he said. "Please, sit."

Ace stepped carefully up to Whitebeard's feet, then plopped down in a sitting position.

"So," Whitebeard said, "what can I do for you?"

Ace took a deep breath. "When you first defeated me, you told me to terrorize the seas under your name."

The old man nodded.

"You asked me to become your son."

He nodded again. "And my offer still stands."

Ace sighed. "Then... If you'll have me, I accept your offer. It would be an honour to join your crew, Whitebeard."

Whitebeard roared with laughter, making the ship shudder. "Good! And you'd better call me Pops, Son."

Ace nodded.

He stood, and made to leave, "If you'll excuse me, Pops."

"Go on. Go and interact with your family."

Nodding wordlessly again, Ace turned away.

As he passed the doors to the galley, he passed Zia. He stopped, and looked right at her.

She was leaning against the wall, her head down and her eyes were closed. Her red hair was braided loosely, and flipped over her shoulder, over her crossed arms, reaching down her torso to her waist. Her legs were crossed, her weight resting on her right foot.

She inclined her head to him, and raised an eyebrow. Then, she opened her eyes.

Even after all this time, Ace found that sightless gaze just as intimidating. "Congrats." she said. There was not a hint of kindness or sincerity in her voice.

Ace tried for a grin. "Hey," he said, "I guess we're crewmates now."

She stood up, and stepped up to him, until they were almost nose to nose. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Firefist:" she said, her voice low and dangerous, "You might be sworn into the crew, but we aren't, and will never be friends. You'll never change, Firefist Ace, and don't you ever forget it." With that, she walked away, checking him out of her way with her shoulder as she passed, her long braid swinging behind her.

When she disappeared from his view, Ace let out a breath he never knew he had held. And here he thought her biggest problem with him was just him trying to kill her captain and father. But no.

Ace sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Geez... What do I have to do to get her to like me?"

I slammed the door to the women's dorm, and hopped onto my cot. I could feel the muscles in my neck going slack from my anger. That hadn't happened in a while. I admit, I had not counted on Firefist ever accepting Pops' offer. I was not happy with this. Now all I could do was hope that he wasn't assigned to the same division as me.

What could possibly make this worse?

My question was answered when the door opened, and Flossy came in with Clara and Miriam, gushing about how Ace had decided to join the crew.

I sighed in irritation and pulled my blankets to my chin and slammed my pillow over my head.

Ace is over one hurdle, and now, will he survive Zia?

Thanks for reading, and hopefully I'll be updating again sooner rather than later.