Pieces

Ace hovered over the deck of Swift Hunter, his legs below the knee fully intangible and hot enough to keep the rest of his body floating without flames emerging from the rest of his skin. His palms were also on fire, but that was more for stability than buoyancy. They were a full mile off the shore of Punk Hazard, an island they'd only found because Fox had a chart that made it possible to navigate the way there using Log Poses for Mystoria and Dressrossa to calculate the route. Punk Hazard lacked a magnetic foundation, so no Log Pose would ever point to it.

"Why are we here again?" he asked as another distant explosion ruffled the waves around them.

"We are here because mother asked us to be Kajin," Fox said patiently, "and she'll recompense us for making the effort even if it turns out to be unnecessary."

"We've been here for two days and they're still fighting!" Ace whined; he was bored. Aokiji and that bastard Akainu were duking it out in the middle of the island of Punk Hazard and the fight's effects could be felt even a mile out at sea, but Fox wouldn't let him wander off for a closer look even though he could practically fly now.

"Since I don't get the impression they're going to stop any time soon I could bake a cake," Fox offered, putting her knitting away.

"Chocolate cake?" Ace asked, spinning to face her with a hopeful smile.

"Chocolate cake if that's what you'd like, Kajin," Fox said pleasantly. "I think I'll eat my share with umeboshi."

Ace made a face. Uuurgh!

Fox had just finished icing the cake when a massive shockwave blasted into Swift Hunter and she dived sharply, throwing Ace, Fox and the cake into the end wall of the kitchen that had abruptly become the floor. There was a crash and a clatter as the utensils in the covered sink rattled around and everything in the cupboards shifted to account for the change in the gravity. Fortunately Fox had caught the plate the cake was on, so as she landed next to her lover on the now horizontal wall it was still intact.

"What just happened?" Ace asked, rubbing his head.

"Swift Hunter responded to a threat," Fox said, settling the cake on the wall and feeling out her connection with her ship for more details. "There was a really big explosion on the island and everything suddenly got very cold, so she dived out of the way of the effects. Is still diving out of the way, in fact; when we get to the sea bed she'll see about getting closer." She produced a knife from her sleeve. "In the meantime, the cake won't eat itself."

"Gimme!" Ace said, eyes sparkling as she cut him a generous wedge. As they both made inroads on the still-warm chocolate cake the room gently righted itself to the sound of shifting and rattling.

"Now do you understand why I keep everything in cubbyholes and racks rather than on shelves and why the sink has a lid?" Fox asked, getting to her feet and placing the remains of the cake on the table.

"I knew Swift Hunter could swim, but I didn't realise diving could be like that," Ace admitted. "In a normal kitchen everything would have spilled all over the place."

"She only does that in emergencies, but in that kind of situation you don't want broken glass and spilled food everywhere, do you?" Fox pointed out. "Diving is usually more gradual and smooth, but she is a Sea King so up and down are considered perfectly viable directions while underwater."

"Do you think the fight's over?" Ace asked.

Fox paused, expanding her senses up and out. "Well, they don't seem to be fighting anymore," she conceded slowly as her lover absently picked up the last slice of cake. "Sakazuki is still moving but Kuzan isn't; I think he lost."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait for the victor to leave," Fox said firmly, "then we go and investigate."

"I will go and investigate," Ace countered in between bites. "You're supposed to be being careful, remember?"

Fox sighed. "Fine. But you'll stay in full Logia form won't you?"

"Sure thing Kitsune," Ace promised easily, licking his fingers clean before leaning back against the kitchen wall and sticking his hands in his pockets. At their last stop he'd bought some loose black trousers that he liked and wore them tucked into calf boots like Pops had done. Unlike Pops however his boots were as black as his trousers and he'd found a tattooist who'd inked an Ace of Spades onto his left shoulder where the ASCE tattoo had once been. There was a letter S left uninked in the middle of the design; his memorial to Sabo. He hadn't found a hat yet, but he would.

Ace liked how he looked in full Logia form: his body became flickering blue-green flames, making him rather ghostly considering how his eyes darkened and faded into shadows. He looked pretty creepy made of greenish flame and wearing black trousers and boots and Ace knew a top hat would finish off his new look perfectly. He wondered briefly what his new nickname would be once he started raising hell again.

Kuzan lay on the frozen ground where he had fallen after his defeat, unable to move and quietly grateful that his Devil Fruit enabled him to numb the pain of his injuries. He had not wanted to become Fleet Admiral but he had utterly abhorred the idea of Sakazuki attaining the rank, so he had been willing to fight his fellow Admiral to the death over the position. However he had lost, Sakazuki had for some reason decided to spare him and he had been left lying on the ice of one-half of Punk Hazard, the island having been broken apart by their battle.

He could not countenance the mockery that Sakazuki would make of the marines; could not work under a man whose ideal of justice was so blindly destructive. He would rather resign; he would resign, as that was the only way he could really protest Sakazuki's promotion now.

Kuzan tensed as he sensed someone approaching at high speed through the air from behind him. Injured and exhausted he might be but he was still an admiral. He waited to see if the newly-arrived individual would attack.

There was a hiss of melting ice, an abrupt rise in air temperature and a soft whistle. "Ow, that looks nasty," the stranger commiserated, the pitch of his voice suggesting he was on the large side of normal. "Hey, are you awake?"

Kuzan opened his eyes. The fiery green apparition hovering next to him grinned.

"You are! Good; need a lift back to Sabaody?"

Kuzan frowned. This was highly unlikely, but he found he didn't care. "Who are you?"

The apparition scratched his head. "Eh, call me Spadille," he said lightly, "I don't feel like sharing my surname with a stranger." The green fire receded from his upper body, revealing a broad-shouldered man rather shorter than Kuzan himself with fair skin, indigo hair and amber eyes. "Can you limp or should I carry you?"

Kuzan levered himself into a sitting position and instantly realised why Spadille had asked 'can you limp' rather than 'can you walk': his left leg from just below the knee was entirely gone. He was tired, his injuries were many and he found he was not concerned with dignity at this point.

"I think it would be faster if I let you carry me," he admitted.

"Okay," Spadille said, his startlingly open face not showing an ounce of pity as he dropped to the ground with a crackle and a hiss, then knelt so as to wrap Kuzan's left arm around his neck. His skin was incredibly hot; Kuzan wondered if this was the newest eater of the Mera Mera no Mi or if there were other fire-related Logias out there. His rescuer than wrapped an arm around his middle, slipped the other under his knees and stood up again easily, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"You're Ice, right? So this might be uncomfortable," Spadille warned him as his feet burst into bluish flames, floating them above the ground.

"I will manage," Kuzan said calmly, though it really was uncomfortable. The man was like a furnace.

"Good, 'cause here we go!" Spadille warned him with a grin and then they were suddenly flying through the air. The angle of travel was however not what Kuzan had expected: Spadille was angled with his back towards the ground and his head tipped sideways and up to look upside-down at the landscape beneath them. A moment's reflection however led the Admiral to deduce that Spadille's back was also on fire and that this position had been chosen for its' stability, given that he was holding Kuzan cradled against his chest.

"Why were you here?" Kuzan asked. Spadille glanced at him.

"Pearl sent us; something about a bad feeling," he said over the rushing wind.

Kuzan nodded. He'd always suspected Pearl was more than just a teahouse owner: no mere businesswoman could ever hope to attract and hold even for a few seconds the attention of a man as dangerous and indifferent as Dracule Mihawk. Dracule Lisska was another indicator, as she was half her mother and easily as dangerous as her father. More so perhaps, as her father was utterly direct while his daughter could weave her words and intentions with such precision and skill as to deceive even the most careful of men. A skill the young lady had likely inherited from her mother, who played the pretty ornament so well yet had such laughing, knowing eyes.

Pearl had sent this stranger to see the outcome of his fight with Sakazuki and to assist him if necessary, so he would see what she wanted from him when they reached the Archipelago; he owed her that much.

Why they went to Punk Hazard explained. Oh, and some Kuzan, 'cause he's interesting.