A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews! They give me life! \(n_n)/

Onward to chapter four!

Chapter Four

Saving Grace

Grace was just about ready to throw in the towel. Clearly some some sort of deity was looking out for Shanks. Well, not just him, but all the Roger pirates. There was a torrential downpour, the likes of which she had never seen. It felt more like a bucket of water was being emptied onto head, but it spanned several miles. She adjusted her cap to shield her eyes. It helped, some. She looked across the ocean, across waves that became bigger and more violent with each passing second. The clouds blocked quite a bit of sunlight, but she could still make out the Pirate King's ship bobbing on the waves. It was petty, but she took solace in the fact that they didn't seemed to be fairing any better than the marines were.

She didn't know how Garp stayed so positive all the damned time. "Don't look so down, Everett!" he said. "There's always next time!" he said. She wondered what his secret was. For the life of her, she just couldn't dredge up the same optimism.

The marine let those thoughts subside in favor of focusing on her knots. She was securing the cannons to the deck, lest they roll around and hurt somebody. There were others nearby, doing the same to other cannons and barrels and crates. The storm was getting worse. The ship nearly capsized once, just barely managing to ride a particularly huge wave. Damned Grand Line weather... Grace would be lying if she said wasn't a little bit nervous. When she looked around, she saw that she wasn't the only one. Every face looked just about as tense as she felt. She hoped the storm would pass as quickly as it came.

But of course, things only ever went ever downhill in these kinds of situations.

As though it were alive, the ocean rose and curled right over the ship. It crashed over the heads of all marines in the deck, heavy and unrelenting. There really wasn't much she could do. The current was too strong. The rope she held onto was ripped from her hands and she was washed away into the abyss. She probably wasn't the only one. She fought as hard as she could, desperately kicking against the sea to propel her up towards the surface. She had only a few seconds to gulp down precious air before another wave swallowed her up. She coughed when she came up gain, a twinge of panic shooting through her gut. She didn't want to die by drowning of all things...!

Grace heard a tremendous crack and looked up in time to see the marine ship's mast snap in two. It was no match for the wall of violent ocean it was up against. She dove underwater and desperately swam out of the way before it the water. She managed to escape being crushed by the mast, but the tangled web of ropes attached to it were a different story. Damn this Grand Line weather...

Shanks gritted his teeth and pulled the rope in his hands as hard as possible. He was precariously perched on the topsail yard with a handful of his shipmates. They were fighting the wind to pull the sails up and secure them so the ship wouldn't capsize. It was a fierce battle, but they prevailed in the end and Shanks spared a moment to relax before looking for something else to help with.

Suddenly the ship was met with some particularly rough water, sending it rocking back and forth so violently that at one point the deck was nearly perpendicular to the ocean below. His crew-mates all held on tightly to whatever was closest; ropes, the railing, the grating on the floor directly above the storage unit... Shanks himself was clinging to the mast, and planned to do so until he could properly stand again, but he saw a streak of gaudy clothes and blue hair slip down the deck while scrabbling desperately for something to grab onto. Shanks watched in horror as gravity pulled Buggy right into the black waters below.

Without a second thought, he released his hold on the mast and followed his friend into the choppy sea. Buggy couldn't swim, after all, ever since he had eaten that devil fruit. Which may or may not have been Shanks' fault. He wasn't so sure. The redhead swam into the murky depths after the sinking clown. He wrapped an arm around Buggy's waist and went to fight current back to the surface, but a white smudge further down caught his eye. There, struggling against the tangle of ropes attached to the sinking marine ship mast was, unmistakably, his favorite marine. He cursed in his head and swam back up to the surface where he saw one of his shipmates hanging over the side of the ship with a rope tied around his waist, ready to grab both him and Buggy. Shanks swam his way over and handed over the sputtering devil fruit user, but hesitated when a hand reach out for him as well.

He couldn't just leave her down there. She'd drown. He thought she seemed like the typed who was better suited to going out in a blaze of glory, not claimed by the sea. He felt around his pockets for the knife he usually had with him and came to a decision.

Was it a stupid idea? Absolutely.

Did he care? Absolutely not.

Shanks ignored the inquisitive call of his name from his shipmate and took a deep breath, and then dived right back underwater. It was a fairly long way down, and it seemed as if the marine had just about given up the fight by the time he got near. He saw her face contort into confused shock and bubbles of air escaped her when she laid eyes on him. She promptly covered her nose and mouth in a panic. Shanks didn't offer any cheeky smile or a wave or anything because, frankly, his lungs were already burning from lack of air and it was hardly the time for his usual routine. He quickly set to work cutting the stubborn ropes where they were tangled around her arms and legs, and Grace herself began tearing away from her watery prison as they started to come loose.

Once free, the two of them desperately made their way back to the surface. As the duo gasped for oxygen, Shanks looked around for either of their ships. To his disappointment, though, he couldn't see past the monstrous swells of sea water that threatened to swallow them up again. For all he knew, they could have drifted pretty far away in the time it took for him to rescue Grace. The ocean was certainly chaotic enough for that.

A hand tightly wrapped around his arm and snapped him of his thoughts. For a split second, the strength in her grip convinced him she was gonna try and arrest him right then of all times. But when he looked over at Grace's guarded expression, she let go and started swimming towards what looking like a broken off piece of a ship's deck. It had part of a marine symbol painted onto it. He followed her lead and climbed halfway onto it, glad to be at least partially out of the water. He looked over at Grace, and saw her glaring daggers at her own clenched fists. She didn't say a word to him.

They drifted along the violent waves until the current carried them into the much calmer eye of the storm. From there, they could see an island did their best to paddle over.

When they were close enough, Grace slid off the piece of wood and waded through the water the rest of the way to shore. Her teeth and fists were clenched when she turned around to see the pirate doing the same. He was walking backwards, though, with his eyes scanning the sea for any sign of his ship.

There was a vine of seaweed laying on the sand. She picked it up and swung it at his head. "Ack!" She heard him spit a seaweed leaf out of his mouth as she continued whipping him. "Hey hey hey! What's the matter?"

She paused her assault. "Why did you save me?!" she demanded.

The redhead blinked at her and shrugged. "I dunno. I just thought drowning kinda seemed like a lame way to die." he answered. "There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course there's something wrong! I don't want to owe my life to some...some no-good pirate!" She spat the word as though it were poison. "You try to pass yourself off as 'not such a bad guy,' but you're still just some selfish lowlife who doesn't care about anything except what makes you happy." Shanks opened his mouth to speak, but Grace continued on. "You don't care about what happens to anybody else if they're not on your side, you don't think twice about it when your scumbag captain kills people for just looking at his crew wrong!" A look of annoyance actually crossed the redhead's face at that but for whatever reason he held his tongue and let it go. "Do you bastard lowlifes ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, the choices you make affect more than just you? That every adventure you have just for kicks might leave some poor brat without a family or home to go back to? Don't the ones left behind matter?!" Her voice wavered just slightly, and Grace shut her eyes tight against memories of fire and blood, against the faces that came forward. The faces of a woman and that man— She sucked in a breath and shoved the memories aside, locked them away in the deepest reaches of her mind. She opened her eyes again, glared at Shanks. "No, of course they don't." She said, voice steady. "It's not your problem once you're done having fun, is it?"

She turned away from the redhead, away from the eyes that seemed to soften by the end of her little rant. What right did he have to be sympathetic?

Grace felt a few heavy raindrops and looked up, realizing that the eye of the storm was passing overhead and that she should probably find cover before the weather went bad again. She heard quiet foot steps behind her when she headed further inland, following her as she sought out a dry place to wait out the storm. Eventually they found a little indent in the side of a cliff big enough for both of them to fit and even lay down and still have a little space between them. She let Shanks stay. She didn't really want to be near him, but she wasn't so cruel as to toss him out on his ass on a day like this. Besides, she supposed she owed him a little bit since he saved her.

It was quite a while before the silence was broken, and it was only because Shanks had run his fingers through his hair and jolted upright with a gasp. "Crap..." he muttered. He glanced over at her perplexed expression. "My hat." Oh, right. His ratty old straw hat was missing, now that Grace thought about it. She rolled her eyes and looked away. "No, this is serious. Where did I..." he trailed off, sounding genuinely anxious. "Do you think there's a chance it'll wash up on the beach?" he asked.

Grace sighed. She didn't answer him. After a few minutes of peering out of the cave towards the ocean, the redhead settled back down. His fingers drummed restlessly on the floor.

~...~

It was sunlight that woke her up the next morning. She couldn't say when exactly she had dozed off, but she figured she must have been asleep for a long while. The storm had passed and it looked to be about mid morning the next day. She glanced to the side, at the pirate sprawled out next to her. She made a face and hustled outside. She looked for the tallest tree she see within walking distance of the cave and climbed it. At the top, she had a decent view of about half the island and the sea around it. The other half was hidden behind a mountain. She didn't see any ships, so carefully climbed back down. On the way, she noticed a sleepy Shanks looking up at her from the ground. She dropped down and brushed off her clothes.

"Did you see anything?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"No."

"Hm..." Shanks turned his gaze towards the beach. "I'm gonna go look for my hat."

"Whatever."

They parted ways. He scoured the shore in search of his hat, and she stared picking through things that had actually washed onto the sand. Much of it looked to be from a marine ship, likely the one she had been washed off of. It's mast had broken, so it wasn't too outlandish to think the rest of it had been torn to pieces as well. Grace felt a pang of worry. What had become of her shipmates? Did anyone drown? Would their bodies wash ashore? She shook her head and pushed the morbid thoughts from her mind. Dwelling on it wouldn't help. She started prying open crates to see if there was anything useful.

Grace didn't see Shanks again until a while later. "Have you seen—"

"I haven't seen your stupid hat. Go bug somebody else." Grace didn't look up from what she was doing. She was seated in the sand checking over a rifle she fished out of a crate to make sure that it would work properly. It would come in handy if there were any animals to hunt on this island.

"But there's no one else here." he replied.

Grace looked up at the pirate through her eyelashes, a frown on her face.

"Fine, fine..." Shanks took a step away, and then said, "If you do see it, would you let me know, angel?"

"Why should I?"

"Please?"

The marine took one look at the dashing smile on the redhead's face and started polishing the rifle in her hands using slow, deliberate movements with the jacket she had taken off earlier. Shanks eyed the weapon, debating with himself whether or not to believe her silent threat. He apparently decided to play it safe because he walked off a moment later.

Grace watched him go, only a little surprised that he gave up so easy. She wondered if he was leaving her be because of her outburst before. It was either that or he was seriously concerned for his hat. That seemed plausible, too.

When she was satisfied that her rifle was in good shape, she strapped it to her back and went on scouring for supplies. She found a knapsack and a couple of knives before she saw a familiar piece of headgear bobbing lazily in the water towards the sand. Grace wandered over and picked it up. She spun it absently in between her fingers as she let her thoughts wander to the pirate it belonged to. She thought about how he saved her. For no reason other than he probably felt like it.

She didn't know how to feel about that. She didn't want to acknowledge that he probably had some redeeming qualities despite his lifestyle choices. She supposed she'd have to, though. If it wasn't for him, she'd be fish food by now.

Grace grumbled under her breath and decided to look for him.

Shanks was panting as he barreled through bushes and tree branches. In hindsight, he probably should have armed himself before venturing into the jungle, but he was just so worried about his hat. Now all he could do was run and hope to he had more stamina than the giant, sharp-toothed carnivore chasing after him.

He honestly hadn't seen the leopard sleeping among the bushes. He had just been wandering aimlessly through the tropical foliage looking around to see if his hat had blown in on the wind. He didn't mean to step on the cat's tail. But he did, and here he was.

Shanks bobbed and weaved through trees and bushes, but the giant growling leopard on his heals was agile so there was no chance of losing it that way. He also realized, too late, that it was just a bit faster than he was. He realized this when it's paw darted under his feet and tripped him up. "Oof!" He landed hard and flipped over to look directly at a set of sharp, pearly white teeth mere inches from his face.

Then there was deafening bang and the big cat fell onto its side, motionless. Shanks wondered, for a moment, what just happened.

When Grace came strolling out of the trees sneering at the leopard's body, the redhead stared at her with wide eyes. He gulped when she turned toward him with her rifle resting against her shoulder and watched as she started digging around in her knapsack. She pulled out something yellow and all but slammed into onto Shanks' head. He flinched because she wasn't exactly gentle about it.

"Now we're even." Was all the marine said before setting down her gun and turning toward her kill with a knife in hand.

Shanks took the straw hat off his head, looked between it and the girl slicing away at what would be her next meal, and then smiled fondly.

A/N: Grace did a little saving of her own at the end there~ I wonder what will happen next with them both stranded like this?

Find out next time!