Chapter 2: The Quiet Game

"Missing cargo?" Aylin repeated as she stood before the esteemed Inner Circle of the Blackburn Syndicate, watching each member carefully as they fixed their gaze upon her.

"Yes. A ship full of valuable artillery has been intercepted by the marines," a rugged-looking woman by the name of Scarlet explained. "While our merchants managed to sink the marine ship, their own was badly damaged and no longer capable of completing the journey. Right now, they've docked at an island that they say is mostly deserted, but it's only a matter of time until the marines send another fleet."

"Let me guess. You want me to go and get it?" Aylin's words sounded a bit more flat than she had intended.

Scarlet leaned over the table, her palms flat against the surface. "This isn't just any cargo. This particular ship was en route to the Port of Soba. I don't think I need to explain what would happen if someone needed to tell Don Fettuccine that he wasn't going to get his shipment..."

Aylin sighed deeply upon hearing those words. Of course she knew what would happen, and also knew that their organization couldn't afford the loss of the Alfredo Family's business. She'd never met Don Fettuccine and didn't know anyone who actually had, but she knew that he was a very important figure within the black market. Nearly everyone knew his name.

"Alright, say no more. I'll take care of it. I assume you've got a ship ready to go?"

"That's right," replied a man in a dark suit beside Scarlet. "Along with a handful of mercenaries to assist in bringing the cargo in. I trust we can depend on your skills and swift attention to the matter." His eyes had narrowed ever so slightly as he spoke those words, and she'd understood the underlying meaning in them.

She nodded, prepared to take her leave. "Of course...is that all, then?"

"Just one more thing," Scarlet piped up. "Take Rocinante along as well."

"Ro-see...what?" Aylin puzzled over the request for a moment, trying to put a face to that name.

"Yes, he's served us well these past few months. This could be a suitable test to find out if he's truly worthy of remaining among us. He may be clumsy, but I'm told he's rather skilled despite that flaw."

'Oh,' she thought to herself. 'That guy.' She'd nearly forgotten about him, having had no contact with him since the day she'd introduced him to Maynard.

Aylin raised one eyebrow. "And if he's not?"

The man in black gave her a rather unsettling grin. "That's what the mercenaries are for, my dear Red Fox."

She nodded in understanding. "I see. How soon am I leaving?"

"Early this afternoon," Scarlet replied briskly. "The sooner the better. I'll expect a full report the moment you return. Dismissed!"

Aylin nodded once more before turning on her heel and taking long strides to exit the meeting room. The bookkeeping would have to wait another day, it seemed...which was a shame, given how much of it still required her attention. She imagined there would be three more stacks of paperwork on her desk by the time she returned to it. There wasn't much she could do about it, though. Aylin held the titles of Negotiator and Escort, which meant that she was often sent away on business to carry out various tasks. When she wasn't preoccupied with assignments, she kept busy as a Bookkeeper. Having multiple jobs within the Syndicate was quite common and ensured maximum productivity, or so Scarlet had insisted.

Aylin made her way back toward her office, navigating the maze of hallways and stairwells. The Inner Circle had their own quarters deep in the recesses of the underground command center, though she had rarely set foot in those areas. They would typically occupy one of the uninhabited office buildings on one of the upper floors of the shoe factory whenever they needed to brief her on a new assignment.

That was what the Inner Circle did. They were a group of people who were responsible for hiring new associates and promoting those already within the Syndicate, as well as dealing with any problems within the organization. In general, not much was known about them, though it was widely acknowledged that they were Blackburn's most trusted employees and probably the only people who had ever actually seen their leader's face. Aylin herself had learned almost nothing about the group, even after six years of service.

Heading down the last corridor on the west side of the building, she entered the area where the rest of the Bookkeepers resided. Most of them, like her, doubled up on roles and depending on the day, the main room would be missing half its workers. A few of them, notably the eldest members of the Syndicate who were no longer physically competent, remained in their offices full-time.

She gave Priscilla a nod as the woman eyed her from a large mahogany desk at the center of the main room.

"I'll be going off on an assignment later today," Aylin said as she walked by. "I'm leaving my office unlocked, so just stack some books on my desk for me."

The elder women hummed in acknowledgement, though said nothing in response. Aylin didn't spare her a second glance. She headed right for her office and shut herself inside, hoping to get some more work done in the short amount of hours she had to spare before leaving.

oOo

Aylin zipped up the duffle bag she had partially filled with just enough to get her through the next few days. A change of clothes, extra throwing knives, a medical kit with extra bandaging and some non-perishable food items were among the few things she considered necessities. The Inner Circle tended not to give much notice regarding upcoming missions, and Aylin had learned long ago that it was best to always be prepared for a journey at any given moment.

Shortly afterward, she made her way down to the shipyard where Rocinante apparently worked these days. She still didn't understand why they'd chosen her to go rescue the cargo. Surely Maynard would have been just as suitable, although her people skills were decidedly better than his.

The blond man wasn't difficult to spot, being the tallest human around. She watched him while he lugged a stack of very large crates up the ramp of a ship as she made her way over. It looked as though she'd been wrong about him. He'd lasted far longer than any of them had first thought he would.

Aylin followed after him, waiting until he'd set the crates down before she cleared her throat. "Hey, kid. Want to go on a trip?"

Rocinante stood up to his full height at the sound of the woman's voice, wiping the sweat from his brow after handling the heavy load. It was the last one of that particular stack and he put his left hand against his back, bending backwards slightly in a stretch. There was a satisfying crack before he lost his balance and fell over onto an empty pallet, breaking the boards in half.

"GAH!"

He flailed with his legs in the air, scrambling to get up and address his visitor properly. He finally stood, embarrassed as he looked down and recognized the woman that he'd met when he first joined the Syndicate three months ago. He'd never forget that bright blue scarf she had carefully fastened about her neck, nor her flaming red hair.

"Oh, hi! Miss... Miss..." His thoughts raced, trying to remember her name. It'd been so long since he had first heard it. A light bulb seemed to go off a second later and he yelled out, "MISS LIN!"

Her brow wrinkled momentarily and he was dismayed, knowing this must have meant he got her name wrong and he scrambled for additional words. "I'm so sorry, that's...that's not your name, is it!? I'm so much better with faces than names...and a face like yours, I'd never forget." He pasted on what he hoped was a charming smile.

"It's Aylin," she corrected him, though she wasn't terribly offended. After all it wasn't as if she'd remembered his name without prompting, either. "Anyway, seems you're moving up in the world. I've got to retrieve a wayward shipment, and you've been requested to come along with me. Guess someone up there likes you."

"Somebody up there, huh? You couldn't possibly mean the head honcho, could you?" Rocinante laughed again and stopped abruptly when he realized that Aylin wasn't amused. He leaned down closer to her height, lowering his voice. "So...wayward cargo meaning this needs to be kept 'hush hush,' right? No worries, I'm great at keeping secrets. So how should we dress, casual?" He winked at her, determined to make her crack that stoic face she had going on.

This could be his chance, he realized. Trusted with a mission like this...direct contact with cargo before it reached the port. That sounded important.

'She must be important,' he thought. 'She must know things that the others don't.' He was determined to break through that hard 'all business' crust and get to know her. It was just a matter of time.

He quickly agreed and packed up a few things. Not that he owned much in the first place; the amount of time he spent traveling didn't allow for personal affectations, save for some basic necessities and the file he kept on his brother. There was also a small picture he kept on his person. A family portrait that had been taken prior to the Donquixote family leaving Mariejois; before their lives had been thrown into turmoil and all the death and the madness had begun.

As soon as he returned with his duffel bag, Aylin led him to the docks on the other side of town where they were to depart. They boarded the ship with four mercenaries that had been procured by the organization and before long, they had set sail toward the desert island. The ship looked so rickety and so many boards creaked that Rocinante truly wondered whether it was seaworthy or not. The poor excuse for a sleeping quarters below deck contained several hammocks, none of which could accommodate his unwieldy frame comfortably.

The mercenaries all looked as if they hadn't bathed in several weeks and the smell was appalling, like pickles and tar. Rocinante lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, closing his eyes and relishing in the nicotine as he exhaled curls of smoke. He was finally able to do so freely here without the fear of gunpowder going off at any moment. On a daily basis he found himself surrounded by dangerous merchandise that was largely composed of explosives. As a result, he took frequent smoke breaks that annoyed Maynard, but he was always able to get his work done on time so he never heard the older man complain too much about it.

Aylin was cold and distant, all business even over dinner in the galley, which mostly consisted of halfway stale bread and chunks of cheese with some kind of thick broth on the side. Rocinante dared not ask what was in it.

The journey was supposed to take at least a week, but trouble was brewing on the third day. The sky darkened by afternoon and thunder crashed within thick clouds, while lightning flashed directly ahead of the path they were taking.

Aylin chewed on her lip while she studied the churning sea outside the nearest porthole. "Looks like we're going to be delayed a little while," she muttered to herself before glancing at one of the mercenaries still sitting at the table. "Go make sure the sails are tied down."

He nodded mutely, the chair scraping against the wood floor as he hurried to do as she said. The day before, he'd learned that the pouch strapped to her leg contained several sharp knives and was not there for show. After a brush with death, he'd decided it wasn't the smartest idea to get on the nerves of one of Blackburn's top employees.

Meanwhile, Aylin had returned to her thoughts. The storm threw a wrench in her plans...they'd been making such good time that she'd been hoping to rescue the stranded cargo and swing by a port on the way back with a day to spare. She absently toyed with the scarf around her neck, hearing the distant shouting of the mercenaries as they worked on the deck above. Her eyes roamed the room, finally settling on the large form still sitting at the table.

She honestly didn't know what to make of Rocinante yet. Even after three days of conversing with him as little as humanly possible, scowling at his attempts to joke with her and generally giving him the cold shoulder anytime he attempted to interact with her, he seemed completely undeterred. Most people gave up by then, but her aloof attitude didn't seem to bother him. Furthermore, he was so unlike any of the other people that came and went in this business that she had to wonder what exactly he was doing there. Was he who he said he was? He'd not yet given them a reason to distrust him, but she'd seen clever traitors attempt to infiltrate the black market before. Some of them were practiced liars and others had been discovered and shot immediately. If Rocinante were one of these infiltrators, he'd certainly fall into the former category...

One thing was for certain; if he turned out to be a spy of some sort, and something happened on her watch, then Blackburn would absolutely take it out on her. Aylin was determined to keep a very close eye on him for the duration of their voyage.

Within the next half hour, dark waves started to crash against the ship and the sea began to roil. Rocinante feared that the boat wasn't sturdy enough to withstand the storm. It was a huge squall and went on for miles, as if it had swallowed up every inch of blue in the sky.

Icy sheets of rain began to hit the deck while the mercenaries who were doing double-duty as sailors finished tying up the sails. The navigator among them yelled over the howling wind for everyone to get below deck, and they all prepared to ride out the storm.

Rocinante searched for the familiar head of red hair. He thought she must already have gone inside, but she didn't answer when he called out to her and he became frantic, thinking she may have been unwittingly tossed overboard. He ran down the stairs below deck, bumping his head and legs on everything as he looked for her. He searched every available room, becoming more and more worried by the minute. Finally he went to the cargo hold, lighting the lantern with the matches he'd used for his cigarettes, though not before burning his fingers multiple times as the rocking ship worked against him. He stumbled his way into the room, his long legs casting spider-like shadows on the walls.

He finally saw a flash of red and blue as he swung his lantern. "...Lin?"

She was there in the corner, behind a couple of stacked boxes of rations. She appeared not to have heard him, so he approached her carefully, noting as he grew closer the way she held her shoulders and how stiff her posture appeared.

Rocinante's eyes widened slightly. "Hey...!"

She started as he rushed to her side, surprised by his presence. He knelt down beside her and tried to set the lantern carefully on the floor. Suddenly a large clap of thunder sounded. At the same time, the boat tilted sharply to one side and Aylin's eyes grew wide with surprise as she found herself crashing into the taller man.

Quickly righting herself, Aylin braced an icy hand against him as she pushed herself back. If it were at all possible for her to look any paler than usual, she certainly did now.

"What are you doing down here?" She demanded, her sharp tone of voice overcompensating for the obvious lack of composure that her body language suggested.

"Lin, are you alright? I was looking for you...for...for a minute there, I thought you might've gone overboard..." He stopped short, his brow wrinkling with concern. Something wasn't right. She looked completely shaken up, even as she did her best to hide it from him. She nearly jumped a foot at the next loud clap of thunder.

The storm must be directly above the ship now, he surmised. He patted her hand in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"Me? Did something go wrong up there?" Aylin frowned, not entirely comfortable showing such weakness in front of someone of a lesser rank, particularly when she had been increasingly suspicious of where that someone's loyalties lay. But the ship lurched once more at that moment and before she could think about it, both of her hands shot out to grapple onto his arms for balance, her eyes becoming momentarily frantic.

Rocinante suddenly found himself resisting the urge to pull her closer into his arms. It seemed like the right thing to do, since she was obviously terrified and valiantly trying to hide it, but she was his superior officer so he held back.

"Hey..." He always tried to lighten the mood no matter what the circumstances, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. "Want to see a magic trick?"

Aylin gave him a withering glare and he almost faltered, but when thunder cracked loudly overhead once again, he snapped his fingers and said, "Silent."

The look on her face was priceless. She was so utterly baffled, glancing about in confusion as the ship still continued to rock against the wind and the waves. Even while tipping side to side violently at times, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing now.

"Pretty cool, right?"

It didn't take her long to figure it out. "You're a fruit user," she said in a tone that sounded almost accusatory. He'd never mentioned it before, though she supposed he never had any reason to.

"Yes, I am."

"What did you just do...? I can't hear anything."

"I'm a soundless man who ate the Nagi Nagi fruit," he explained. "I just created a bubble around us so that the only thing you can hear is what's inside of it! No more thunder, I'll keep it up until it's over, I promise." He put one hand on her shoulder again, kindness radiating from his eyes.

Still surprised, Aylin pursed her lips and for the next few moments she said nothing. He sat with her in silence as the ship continued to rock among the violent waves, though she felt a swell of relief upon not having to listen to the rumbles and claps from above. She sat back on the crate, resting her elbows on her knees.

"You know, I don't get you," she finally said after a long pause. "You are either too naive to know what you've gotten yourself into, or you're lying about something." Her eyes flickered up to bore into his, trying to gauge his reaction. "Really...what's someone like you doing here?"

Rocinante sighed. He got this reaction almost everywhere he went, to the point where he almost considered adopting a 'tough guy' gimmick. But that just wasn't him. In order to have that kind of persona, he supposed he'd never be able to open his mouth.

Rocinante let his hand slide off of Aylin's shoulder. "Is it really so hard to believe that there are nice people in this world? Not everyone is carrying a knife to stab you in the back with the first chance they get." He looked back into her eyes, not one trace of dishonesty in his own. "I have my reasons for being in this business. Just like I'm sure you have your reasons for being afraid of thunder." He raised an eyebrow at her in a challenge.

Aylin's lips pulled into a frown at the mention of her phobia, though it wasn't enough to derail her completely. He had a point...everyone had different reasons for the way they lived their lives. Herself included. Reasons for being afraid of thunder, however...

Suddenly she felt a little ridiculous. One corner of her lips pulled slightly upward. "No...actually, I've just always hated it."

He grinned at her in response, noting that she let down some of that roughness for the first time.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? For a minute there I thought there might be some dramatic tale behind it. You're safe with me for now, this wall's not coming down until I say so." He patted the invisible barrier. "But I have to ask you a favor. Why don't we keep my devil fruit a secret just between the two of us, eh?"

Aylin let a moment of silence pass before she replied, "I suppose I could agree to that." So long as he didn't have anything up his sleeve, anyway... She could see where a power like his could come in handy, especially within an organization like the Syndicate. However, knowing something like this about him would give her the advantage if anything should happen to go sour, so she was willing to keep his secret for now. "Anyway...I appreciate you not making a joke of it. It's the least I can do in return."

"Why would I make a joke about something you fear? Especially when I was so worried..." He cleared his throat and looked away, flushing slightly. It was in his nature to care for others and he always found himself getting attached to people, even when he shouldn't. Hell, especially when he shouldn't. He'd lost a dear friend on his last assignment. It was something he tried not to ever think about, but the pain was still there, buried somewhere deep. "Why do you always think the worst of people?"

It seemed to her a bizarre question, and perhaps her expression reflected that, because she noticed his head tilt in a quizzical manner. "Why...? Look around you, Rocinante. Everyone involved in this organization is the scourge of society, I have no illusions about it. I've been around long enough to see for myself. In this business, turnover is like a nonstop revolving door. Stick around a while and you'll learn not to bother with making friends."

"Well maybe I don't believe that, Lin. Maybe I believe in trying to see the good in people," he said honestly. In fact, there was only one person that he'd never been able to see that in, and it wasn't for lack of trying. He shook his head, looking away as the boat continued to bob about wildly. "Are you telling me you don't have any friends? No one you care about? That...sounds terrible, especially since you think everyone around you is the 'scourge of society.' That's no way to live, Lin."

"It's Aylin," she corrected him, though she wasn't sure why she bothered at this point. "Listen, I'm not here to make friends. You can think whatever you want about it, I don't care. But if that's what you think you're doing here, then boy you are in the wrong line of work. Do you understand that this isn't a game? If you're not here because you have absolutely no shred of decency, then you're here because you're desperate."

His brow wrinkled as he stared down at her thoughtfully, lifting a hand to scratch at his cheek. "That's an interesting perspective, but I'm afraid I don't find the world as black and white as all that. I'm going to prove you wrong, Lin. Just watch."

A silence stretched out between them for a time and Rocinante thought Aylin might have fallen asleep. Or maybe she was stewing in anger. It was so quiet in the little bubble he'd made that he started to drift off himself.

All of a sudden another wave nearly knocked the boat over, causing him to lose his balance. He promptly toppled over onto Aylin, feet straight up in the air, while she was immediately sent sprawling off the crate before she'd had time to react to the collision.

"Hey!" She protested as they became a tangled mess of flailing limbs.

Aylin's eyes swept over their surroundings, quickly taking stock of the situation. Crates had been soundlessly tossed about amidst the chaos and some of their items had spilled and scattered across the floor.

She pushed herself up to her elbows, still pinned to the floor under Rocinante's considerable weight. "Something tells me you don't get invited to many parties," she commented dryly.

Rocinante snorted. "A pity, since this makes such a great parlor trick! I can talk so much shit behind people's backs without them ever knowing. I'm a first rate gossip and-" He cut himself off immediately, almost having said something about being a spy. He knew she'd think of that reason herself soon enough. She was a shrewd woman, from what he'd gathered.

He lifted himself off of Aylin and offered her a hand. "Sorry about that. So...since we're stuck down here for awhile, why don't you tell me your life story?" Upon the look he received in return, he continued, "Okay, just the past year... How you got tangled up with the organization...?" Still no response. "Okay, okay...how about where you got that beautiful face from?"

Rocinante gave her what he hoped was a suave grin. He'd definitely noticed that she wasn't hideous. In fact, he even found her quite beautiful. He really wasn't a huge flirt, but he had to try every crack before he'd find a board that would budge, didn't he? After all, his mission required him to get closer to her. He needed information that she could undoubtedly provide for him. If only she would make it a little easier to befriend her... Still, Rocinante was not a man who gave up easily.

Though judging by the unimpressed look on her face, Aylin was clearly not one to fall for such a tactic. She stood and brushed herself off, small clouds of dust billowing up from her clothing.

"Nice try," she replied flatly. "But that's none of your business. Maybe try flirting with women as young and naive as you are, and that line might actually work."

He blinked. "Just how young do you think I am, Lin? I kind of thought maybe we were around the same age. You're, what...twenty-six? Maybe?" He gave her a quizzical look. "I didn't think you were that kind of girl, but honestly I'm at a loss here. Throw me a bone, won't you? I just want to get to know you better."

She sighed, thinking that he must be some kind of idiot. But rather than waste more time in a futile attempt to explain once more why forging friendships within the Syndicate was pointless, she said, "Let's play the quiet game instead."

Rocinante perked up. "I have to warn you, I'm kind of the champion of the quiet game, in case you didn't notice." He clapped his hand to his chest and simply said, "Calm!" Suddenly nothing he did or said made any kind of noise, even as he began to dance about, trying to get her to crack a smile. He looked like some kind of mime without the makeup, striped clothing and goofy hat.

Aylin rolled her eyes. 'How can Maynard stand this kid?' She found herself wondering. He surely must be an excellent worker, considering he'd survived for this long with the crankiest man in the business as his superior. Hell, she'd seen Maynard off people for much less than annoying behavior. The man seemed to have it out for anyone expressing any shred of happiness whatsoever.

She did her best to distract herself from the giant young man in front of her, who in turn did his best to keep her focus. At the very least, she was thankful for the silence despite everything.

Eventually, after what seemed like approximately one eternity, the crashing waves subsided and she suspected the storm had ended. Aylin stood, drawing Rocinante's attention. He'd given up trying to entertain her a little while ago and had finally been sitting in silence.

"Looks like it's over now," she said. "I've got to get things back under control." There was no doubt in her mind that the mercenaries upstairs were up to no good. Blackburn was paying them for their services, but that didn't mean they wouldn't stab her in the back the second the opportunity arose. She didn't trust them as far as she could throw them.

Rocinante sighed at the fact that he'd failed to crack a smile from Aylin, but he wasn't through. They'd be on this mission together for another week and a half. Maybe he'd get through to her before it was over with and maybe he wouldn't, but he still had plenty of time for that later. Somehow, he was determined to crack that hard shell of hers...

He followed her up topside, where everything was soaked, though the ship looked no worse for wear. He surmised he wouldn't even have noticed any kind of damage to the ship anyway, since it was already such a piece of crap. Nightfall would be coming soon and there was something he still had to do.

"You mind if I take watch tonight, Lin? I promise I'll be quiet." He grinned cheekily.

"I suppose not," she replied after a moment of consideration. She'd taken it upon herself to stand watch the last couple of nights, and although she hadn't complained at all, she figured she could use the break. She at least trusted Rocinante more than she trusted any of the mercenaries.

"Great! Sweet dreams then, I'll see you tomorrow morning." Rocinante waved over his shoulder as he went up to what passed for a crow's nest on this floating piece of wood. Darkness fell over the now calm sea and the stars came out one by one.

Rocinante waited until he was certain everyone had fallen asleep, then he snuck down to mast where the ship's den den mushi was kept. He was a week overdue for his next report, but his superior officer would just have to deal with it. In order to give his report on time, he'd have blown his cover. It was already hard enough to get away from the docks, the warehouse, and the scrutinizing eye of that crabby old bastard, Maynard.

He picked up the receiving end, dialing the familiar number. "Hello, Bagels? It's me."

"Muffins!" The older man's voice on the other end may have sounded a tad relieved. "I've been waiting for your report." He was a little difficult to hear amidst a cacophony of sorts in the background. "How is everything goi-Bukiyousuke, I told you to turn that racket down! I can't hear myself think!" Next came the obvious sound of a door slamming, and things became a bit quieter. Sengoku sighed. "My apologies, my son is home for the holiday. How is the mission going?"

"Slowly," Rocinanate said after a short pause. "Ahh, little Buki-kun is growing up, eh? How's he doing? Were you guys planning on having any more? AHHH look at me blabbing away! Right, the mission...well, I'm finally working my way into the higher ranks of the organization, hoping I'll eventually get to meet Blackburn. I'm paired up on a mission with one of their higher ranking agents, Lin. We're off to Calderry Island to retrieve a load of cargo gone awry, it seems..."

"Ah, yes. From the ship that sunk one of our fleets, I presume. Be careful...if it's the one I think it is, then it was very well-disguised as a merchant ship, but turned out to have all the makings of a warship. The report I received on the incident included a request for backup as well, although I imagine Blackburn probably is already aware. In that case, I-"

"Dear, are you going to be on the Den Den Mushi much longer?" A female voice called out in the background. "Bukiyousuke was looking forward to our family outing together, you know! AHHH BILLY, NO, DON'T EAT THAT! THAT'S MY POLITICAL SCIENCE PAPER, IT'S GOING TO THE PUBLISHER! SENGOKU, WHY IS YOUR GOAT IN THE HOUSE AGAIN?"

Rocinante held back a snicker. "Seems the missus is doing good as well?"

Sengoku's forehead twitch was nearly audible. "I don't know, dear, perhaps you should ask our son. Now if you don't mind, I'm involved in a very important call at the moment. The outing can wait for just a few minutes longer..." He sighed again as the background volume increased once more. "BUKIYOUSUKE. How many times do I need to tell you to turn that noise down?!"

The female voice piped up again in the background, "SENGOKU, you really expect me to believe it's Buki's fault?! You let that goat eat from a silver platter and sleep on SILK PILLOWS! YOU TREAT HIM BETTER THAN ME SOMETIMES! GET OFF THE DEN DEN!"

Rocinante had to cover his mouth and hold his breath to keep from laughing. He'd had the pleasure of meeting Sengoku's wife, Sanga, many times as he was growing up and being recruited into the marines. He found her quite interesting. Sengoku and Sanga were so different that he'd often wondered how they ever got married in the first place.

"Well Bagels, thanks for the warning...I don't know when I'll be able to make my next report."

"Yes, well, here's another," Sengoku said in a low voice so that his wife wouldn't hear. "If you value your sanity...for the love of god, don't ever have kids." He harrumphed, "Or a wife! All they do is complain." His words were callous, but even so, there was an obvious affection to them. "Alright, alright! I'm coming in just a minute! ...My apologies yet again, Rocinante. I must cut this short. I'll be waiting for your next repo-Oh, for crying out loud, Bukiyousuke! Can't you leave that thing at home for once?!" All that could be heard next was his grumbling and a child's whining and then after a moment of garbled noise, the connection was cut.