Dear Volley-chan, in spite of what you said about writing for my own enjoyment, at this point I find myself writing this story half to get my imagination out so I stop day dreaming, and half because of how much you love my story and your dedication to submitting killer reviews ^-^
With Lou's poor reading and writing skills, I kind of figured it made sense that if someone had an impoverished childhood then their literacy skills would not be top-notch. I feel like the small realistic details are missing from a lot of fanfics where the character had a rough upbringing the author doesn't want to explore the character being flawed in anyway. But I like my characters being really flawed because in some ways that's what truly makes them interesting. And not just the flaws of 'Oh I'm going to fight with Law and then get invited on the ship and he will immediately love my company' or simply 'I had a rough childhood with no real effect except for an arc in which we explore how I lost my whole family but have no genuine flaws from it'. Sorry for that rant but I feel like a read a lot of repetitive stories regarding Trafalgar Law that follows a recipe almost.
Also please don't hate me for the creative licensing over Law requiring glasses, I just figured he seemed like the kind of person who would work so hard he would eventually need glasses.
As usual, please enjoy and feel free to submit one-shot suggestions (smut, fluff, crack, etc.) if you've got any cool ideas.
Thanks xx
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A sense of defeated gratitude washed over Lou at the sleepy start to the morning, and by extension, breakfast. There was no pushing or flailing through the double doors of the mess hall, but the Heart Pirates simply trudged inside, feet slapping against the cool linoleum and tacky pajamas still worn. Most, aside from Shu, Bepo and some of the early risers, were still in their sleeping clothes which generally consisted of baggy boxers and an old t-shirt. Of course Shachi's shirt sported a large cartoon penguin inside a love heart, whilst his companion Penguin failed to show the same level of commitment and decided on a simple grey shirt.
Breakfast was an array of egg dishes, all served with either a hollandaise sauce or a form of spicy homemade chutney. It had taken Lou nearly an hour to cook all of the dough to make a large pile of naan bread for breakfast, yet half the time for them all to disappear. Nevertheless the transition from sleep-deprived proverbial zombies to alert and boisterous pirates was miraculous, and the chef couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her contribution to the shift in mood. Her idle fingers busied themselves by sweeping away discarded vegetables bits and storing what had not been used in the cool room, and emptying the pile of dishes into the sink. A few members stopped for brief small talk, which mainly consisted of discussing breakfast and Lou attempting to graciously accept praise for the meal, as weather was not a topic of discussion seeing as they were underwater and all.
The chef now found the submarine far less exciting than when she had boarded the previous afternoon, largely due to her inability to gage the time aside from what few clocks were scattered throughout the sub and the claustrophobic feeling that arose when one attempted to squeeze through particularly narrow hallways. However her crewmates were sympathetic to her efforts to adjust to sub life and so would often drop by during different parts of the day to entertain her with their company. By the end of lunch, Lou was sure she had met most of the crew, of whom two in particular stood out: Shu the specialised fisherman and Jonah the nurse.
Apparently Shu's position as fisherman doubled as both an ingenious way of fishing whilst remaining underwater and as a zoological expert on seakings, who were a very real threat to the Heart Pirates. His thin, broad-rimmed reed hat contrasted those of the normally smaller and more flamboyant hats of the rest of the crew, particularly in contrast with his immaculately worn boiler suit. The man was fairly quiet but seemed intelligent enough, able to engage Lou in conversation that extended beyond the meal they had most recently eaten. Yet even so this extended conversation was quite impersonal and direct.
Jonah, on the other hand, caught Lou's attention for a vastly different reason: his bad attitude. Worse than Penguin's in relation to her, the surly older man insisted he be referred to as a medical assistant on the off chance he decided to acknowledge her presence. 'Women are bad luck on ships', he would often repeat as he stroked his stubbly chin. That was one of the few words ever uttered to her by the male nurse before he would skulk off to the infirmary most likely. None dared to question their captain's decision to accept a female chef on an all-male submarine, though the occasional grumblings were often silenced by her food.
Conversion via food, Lou felt, was her most effective weapon to combat what minority was displeased with her presence aboard. And she was sure it would eventually win everyone over, as was the brilliant power of a good meal. Unfortunately though, Jonah was the over-floured cookie that had been left in the oven on high for a good twenty minutes too long: he was one tough cookie. Even as he came to fetch her for her check up and review of medical history, the man would not so much as look in her vicinity until she had arrived at what she presumed to be Law's office.
He skulked off with a sullen huff, and Lou was left to stare at the metal barred door in front of her. With a ginger knock, followed by a grunt of permission, the woman pushed the creaking door open and stepped inside. Apparently the infirmary doubled as the captain's office, complete with a neat row of sterile beds to one side, and the other housed his equally sterile metal desk that had been bolted to the floor. Behind the desk were rows of filing cabinets and disheveled books piled high upon one another until they nearly toppled. Dog-eared pages and sheets of paper protruding from their contents were prominent features of the books, along with long and excessive titles that Lou had trouble deciphering.
Lou had previously thought Law a meticulous man who held a keen eye for tidiness, or rather organisation, so that haphazard array of books was a surprise. The man in question caught her gaze and glanced back at the mess behind him.
"My office isn't normally this disorganised, I assure you," he drawled with half-lidded eyes. "A storm on our way to your island ripped my book case from its hinges and caused quite the mess so, naturally, I got rid of it."
She nodded and swallowed thickly at the subtle warning of his lack of sentimentality, all but declaring how only usefulness would keep one onboard the submarine. Although Lou knew she would only be staying with the Heart Pirates until a suitable replacement could be found, it remained disconcerting to consider being found useless and abandoned.
Law gestured to one of the two seats in front of his desk before sliding a thin stack of paperwork from a filing cabinet beneath his desk. Her eyes traveled over the paper quickly before realising it was a medical questionnaire. A pen was thrust towards her, which she gladly accepted, before the doctor reached for an open book on his desk and a pair of black rimmed glasses the hang off the front of his hoody.
"Fill in the form as truthfully as possible, Miss Lou. This is for both your safety and ease of convenience for me." Law muttered as his attention was firmly rooted in the book. His smokey eyes peered through the glasses with hawk-like focus that immediately caught Lou's attention.
The man's head was turned away and to the book, allowing Lou a full view of the side of his face as he leant back in his chair to read. Coffee-coloured skin derived from a genetic jackpot rather than years of labouring in the sun as Lou had done to receive her tanned skin, a strong jaw, sharp chin and straight nose had her vivid eyes fixated on him. She had seen statues carved from marble in rich men's hallways, but Law seemed to outdo them all. In spite of the obvious difference in muscle tone between the doctor and the statues Lou had marveled at in her youth, she couldn't help but note the lean strength in his toned body. There was a primal aggression in him Lou had not seen once during her placid two years on Cortula, but it was masked by a façade of cool detachment that Lou had yet to see crack. Nevertheless he put her on edge, which only added to his allure.
Like a ripening apple, Lou's cheeks quickly blossomed an intense shade of red when Law's eyes darted the corner to catch the woman staring at him. Vague amusement flashed across his face, signaled by the small curling of his lips, though he said nothing. The tell-tale blush of the chef was enough to confirm his suspicions: she was attracted him. Albeit it was a shallow attraction based on his appearance, but it was present nonetheless. He had noticed her lengthy staring and hair twirling earlier though didn't care to exploit it.
Yet.
Only the faint scratching of the pen against paper filled the infirmary as Lou had returned to filling out the pages dutifully. Her writing was straight and without any decorative curls, as if it the extra milliseconds required to do so was too much of a waste. A few words was incorrectly spelt, and as she continued to write it seemed more like the writing of a kindergartener than a twenty-year old woman. Law peered at the strange writing and the simple words used, that often trailed outside the designated answer spaces due to the excessive size of the letters.
"You write like a child."
Lou kept her head down, but the flush of embarrassment that bordered on shame was evident as it crawled from her neck up to her ears. Her pen stopped and hovered just above the paper.
"I never had much practice when I was young," she mumbled. "I never really went to school."
Law quirked an eyebrow and straightened himself a little. "You never went to school? And yet you have the writing skills of a ten year old."
"Yeah, I guess I do." Lou raised her head from the paper and gave an awkward smile that resembled a crooked grin. She didn't seem willing to divulge any personal information, though Law easily guessed she likely came from a poor background, which starkly contrasted his own upbringing.
Now only the pangs of grief were able to surface when Law thought back to Flevance as the rest had been buried deep inside to fester like an untreated wound. To a degree he had found his peace with their deaths in fulfilling his parents dream for him to become a doctor, though nothing could replace them fully. He had not started a family of his own, nor did he intend to at anytime. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, and Law did not think himself the fatherly type anyway.
Nevertheless Flevance had been a city of great wealth and opportunity that bred highly educated citizens. Law supposed that poverty bred citizens who were either illiterate or poor at writing, as the new chef was. She seemed to struggle on a few words, though he could see her mouth moving as she attempted to silently sound them out. When she jotted down her answer not long after sounding out the lengthy or foreign words, Law could only assume that she was intelligent enough to understand the meaning of the words. Her dark chocolatey hair fell around her face much like a curtain, and her choppy fringe was brushed to the side to give her face a softer look.
When she had finished, Lou slid the paperwork across the metal desk towards Law who promptly began skimming through the messy scrawling. He readjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and licked his thumb to flick through the pages. The motion was strangely human for the reserved and controlled captain, and Lou couldn't help but feel a stirring of warmth in her chest that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.
"No allergies, no illnesses in the family, no history of mental health, vaccines are up to date and no drug abuse." He listed off the factors before flipping to one of the last pages. "Well you're healthy enough and, as entertaining as it would be to do some dirty work, it's important that my crew is healthy."
He paused and glanced up from the paperwork to stare at Lou. "But it says here you've had multiple broken bones?"
Lou visibly stiffened, drawing his attention immediately. She curled her hands further towards her stomach and felt the abnormal lumps and shape of the bones inside them.
"Yeah, just in my hands and wrists."
"Both of them?" Law asked and motioned for her to bring her hands forward. The woman placed her hands on the table face down and Law was quick to inspect them. His touch was surprisingly warm to match the enthralling shade of his skin, and the gentleness with which he handled her unattractive fingers was startling. With each twist and ghost of his fingers over hers, Lou could feel the same uncomfortable heat rise up in her chest like a fever.
However the doctor's attention was more rooted in the horrendous healing of her hands. He counted numerous fractures and complete breaks in her hands and wrists that resulted in the bone healing crookedly or forming irregular lumps over the cracks. It made her hands look older than they really were and he couldn't help but imagine the pain of having one's hands destroyed in such a way. He suspected blunt force trauma from at least the proximal phalange to the ulna, and concentrated at the scaphoid and capitate. Her metacarpal and distal phalanges, or her thumb and ends of her fingers, seemed fairly okay, having likely been set with some crude cast or stick.
"The heals look to old and permanent to fix properly, and you seem to manage fine considering you're a chef. Though you should have had this rectified immediately after the breaks." Law muttered before removing his hands from her mangled ones. The abnormal healing was a travesty to modern medicine as even the worst of doctors would know to operate and set screws in the victims hands before simply bandaging them.
Lou said nothing in reply, but merely nodded. She stared down at her open palms before clenching them. The action still hurt even eight years later.
Law didn't care to ask how the breaks happened, although he admitted curiosity to an incident that caused his chef's normally cheerful disposition to shift into a nervous and timid one. He guessed a distressing event yet said nothing of it; a sobbing woman was hardly what he needed at the moment. The thought of comforting someone sent an uninhibited shiver down his spine.
He removed his black wire glasses and rested them in the crook of the front of his hoodie. They hung limply with only one of the wire arms inside the hoodie to support it, whilst the light glinted off the thin lenses.
"As for your reasons for agreeing to be our chef, I would appreciate a forewarning if any lifelong grudges or revenges will be in your near future? You see I don't appreciate any of my crew starting shit that ceases to be a problem for only the individual. Simply put, Miss Lou, I don't care to be included in trivial matters."
Lou waved a hand at him and replied, "No need to worry, Captain. I'm not looking for revenge, just looking for my family."
"Very well, though we won't be going out of our way for you."
"It's okay, when I was little we lived on Jeroa Island, and it's only a few islands away from here," Lou said and leant her cheek on her fist. "It won't be out of your way."
Law nodded and brushed dust off the pile of books stacked by his desk as if prepping to read them. "And you'll be staying with them once you find them?"
She tilted her head back slightly to think before looking back at him. "No, I don't think I could." White teeth bit into her lowly lip slightly as she debated whether or not to bother sharing her personal information. "My parents gave me up, I doubt they'd want me back now of all times."
In saying they 'gave her up' Lou was understating the situation, when in fact they had sold her to the local royal house. For how much and for what reason, she had not the slightest idea; though she supposed asking them why they had given up their youngest child would finally bring her some closure. Her eyes flickered up to Laws, only to find he had mimicked her pose while his eyes contained not the slightest sliver of sympathy. They were hard and unwavering, staring directly into hers. Lou had guessed that he was too indifferent to give much thought to her upbringing, and so it was no surprise when he offered no condolences.
Instead he waved her off and said, "If that's all then you may get back to your duties. And take that uniform with you." An egret like finger pointed to a lonesome boiler suit that hung by one of the infirmary beds.
Lou sighed and thought, Really, Captain, you're taking this indifferent thing too far.
Nevertheless she said her thanks and swiftly exited the office in search of the kitchen after slipping into the boiler suit. Without Jonah to guide her back, Lou was left to wander the halls of the sub aimlessly. When walking to the office she had attempted to make mental notes of key turns and features that would guide her back, which would have been helpful, had the halls not looked identical from every direction and angle. So after what she believed to be at least half an hour of wandering she finally found her way to a large barred door with the words 'Navigation Room' inscribed on it. Above the door was a large red light that occasionally flashed red, so Lou guessed it was some sort of alarm light.
She rapped her knuckles against the door and waited for someone to answer. A few moments later, and following the clicks and creaks of locks being undone, the door was etched open to reveal a broad white face and a pair of beady, black eyes. Bepo stared down at her, but did not open the door any wider.
"Oh it's the chef," he mumbled with a confused expression. "This isn't the kitchen."
Lou smiled awkwardly at his innocent bluntness. "Ah yeah, I know it's not I'm just lost. Couldn't find my way back from the Captain's office."
"Oi, Bepo! Is that the idiot cook?" Penguin's voice reverberated from inside the navigation room and sounded tinny due to the metal walls. It still rung with the current of distaste which made Lou wrinkle her nose in annoyance.
"Lou isn't an idiot, Penguin," Shachi called back before his head appeared below Bepo's in the door way. "Don't listen to him, his just a big jerk."
"Oh well if she ain't an idiot why are we engineers and she's a cook?"
Shachi's head disappeared and wrestling could be heard from Lou's side, causing her to cringe and the sound of body parts colliding with metal. The polar bear in front of her also glanced back, but with more disinterest as he was used to their bickering. The dispute was solved almost as quickly as it had been started and so Shachi pushed his way past the hulking first mate to Lou's side. There was a red fist-sized mark on his cheek and his clothes seemed a little disheveled, but his was otherwise unharmed.
"I'll show you the way back to the kitchen!" He declared and pulled the woman by her elbow through the halls. "Don't worry if you get lost in your first few weeks. It happens to everyone 'cos the halls and rooms have to be built around the machinery, especially the big parts like the condenser and camshaft."
Lou couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm in his voice and the boyish grin that crawled onto his pale face at the discussion of the sub. It appeared to be his pride and joy. At her growing smile, Shachi felt an unwanted blush appear and jerked his head to the side to avoid being caught out. The gentle, swan-like crook of her neck was made visible as she swept her hair to the side and the shadow created by the cleavage of her breasts was in his directly line of view. He knew this was likely the exact reason it was supposedly bad luck for women to be aboard any ship, but the pinch of feminine beauty amidst a crew of foul-smelling males was almost irresistible.
The man swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm himself as he escorted her to the kitchen. "What cabin are you staying in?"
Blue eyes glanced at him with calm sincerity. "Yours."
At that moment the mechanic felt a nervous twist in his gut and a pang in his chest. Captain was making the temptation too difficult, and he never once doubted the woman's words. But he had not seen the woman nor her belongings in the cabin which he shared with Bepo and Penguin the night before. He took a shallow breath to calm down.
"M-My cabin?" The incidental stutter made him cringe at his own nervousness.
"Apparently it was the only one with a spare bunk, but I didn't have time to dump my stuff there because of dinner last night, and I fell asleep in the kitchen as well." She shrugged and continued. "Maybe tonight I'll have enough time to get to bed. If I can find it that is! You guys should really invest in some signs or something 'cos this is bloody ridiculous!"
With a hefty chuckle, Shachi rubbed the back of his head. "You'd think we would, but we never got around to it. When we built this sub we were thinking about practicality too much to consider the smaller details." He said before looking ahead of them to the end of the hall. "Oh, we're here."
The white double doors leading to the mess hall were a welcome sight and Lou pushed them open gently, taking in the scent of the vegetable stew she had left simmering over the multiple stoves during her visit to the infirmary. Delicate aromas of thyme and rosemary mingled together with the tang of citrus juice present in it that slowly condensed into the broth that was forming. It passed them in waves that only heightened Shachi's excitement for lunch. Thus far none of the meals produced by smaller woman beside him had been anything short of spectacular in their simplicity. They reminded him of home and a warm fire, rather than the cold, dark submarine they were in. It was a welcome change from old bread and poorly made stew.
But as soon as lunch was served, preparation for dinner came and passed in the blink of an eye. Scheduling for kitchen hands was organised to have a rotational fill of helpers in serving and washing up, though this excluded Bepo and Captain. But once again Lou found herself alone, long after most had finished their meals and headed off to bed, prepping scraps for weekly bubble and squeak (A/N: this is a kind of leftovers mish mash meal). She had kept a keen eye out for Law, whilst allowing Bepo to raid the fridge for cold tuna, though he had failed to make an appearance. Nor had he attended lunch for that matter.
The better half of her instincts told her to leave him be, all the while the chef inside would not lay this matter to rest. Late breakfasts and no other meals was a surefire way to convince one's body that it was undergoing starvation and causing all sorts of detrimental effects such as exhaustion, headaches and strangely enough weight gain. When the body does not receive the quantity of nutrients and energy required to function optimally, it stockpiles what it can afford in anticipation of famine. Surely Law's medical background taught him that much, heck every half-intelligent being knew skipping meals was bound to have at least some adverse affect upon the body. Yet there she stood in her new kitchen contemplating whether or not to bring him his dinner.
Lou leant against the metal counter and thought better of the decision and so set about scooping a large plate of that night's dinner, heating the naans and preparing an espresso. Considering their previous interaction over his bitter drink, she supposed it was a modest method of breaking through his stiff façade.
However by the time she had finally stumbled her way through the complex halls and found herself in front of his office doors, the naans had already cooled and neither the baked dinner nor the espresso were piping hot. Upon knocking, she promptly let herself in, pushing on the door with her back whilst inching through with a large wooden tray laden with food and coffee.
"What's this?" Law questioned at his seat behind the desk. She was somewhat surprised to find the man exactly as she had left him, though supposed he was likely reading some intellectually exclusive book on a topic equally as irrelevant to her.
She set the tray on the edge of the desk before unloading its contents onto his desk. "Clearly it's the dinner and lunch you conveniently decided to skip."
Law inspected the flat yet soft form of bread between his tanned fingers. The lack of genuine curiosity or appetite was rather disheartening to say the least, particularly as he merely prodded the fillet steak with disinterest. He rolled a few of the steamed and baked vegetables about the plate like a distracted child but made no effort to actually eat, instead choosing to down the espresso.
"You don't need to bring me food, nor do you need to worry about me. I am an adult and shall care for myself accordingly." He state in a gruff voice that left no room for argument. The intrusion of comfort was treated like a threat and promptly dealt with through a stern tone.
"Well as a chef I think it's my job to worry if someone isn't eating," Lou replied as a small grin appeared. "Especially when it's my food! Besides, everyone needs someone looking out for them… Even a captain."
He stared her for a long moment, an unrecognisable emotion glimmered in his grey orbs for the briefest second before evaporating into his previous bored expression. Leaning back into the armchair he further inspected the food before gathering a variety of food upon his fork.
"I don't enjoy people watching me eat," Law murmured, causing Lou to flush with embarrassment at being caught staring. The action elicited a confident smirk from the pirate and he proceeded to eat slowly.
As he had guessed, while the outside of the fillet steak was crispy and dark, the inside was still moist and pink. As he cut through the tender meat, the milky brown pepper sauce dribbled down the inside as steam rose up from the recently sliced meat. Buttery yellow baked potatoes and steamed vegetables lay to the side of the steak, vivid in colour and lightly seasoned with cardamom and paprika to give at that extra kick that made his taste buds dance in excitement. The food was sublime, to say the least. Yet Law's deliberate movements were slow, easing each morsel to his lips with feigned apathy towards the meal.
"Naan is an odd choice to accompany every meal, Miss Lou." He simply stated after swallowing a mouthful of food.
Lou rubbed the back of her head and explained, "Oh well bread was out of the question since it's a fattening source of carbohydrates, seeing as most breads only use the starchy endosperm, and remove the fibre-dense bran and nutrient-rich germ." She then motioned to the naan. "But naan has less salt, sugar and preservatives, and is overall more healthy."
"You seem to know a lot about nutrition."
"Good food leads to good health!" Lou replied quickly. "Our jobs practically work hand in hand."
The captain grunted in reply and continued to silently eat his food, leaving an almost strained silence to hang over the pair.
"…When will we reach the next island?"
He kept his eyes on the meal whilst answering, "Ask Bepo, he's the navigator."
Another pregnant pause. "Have you read all these books?"
"Yes."
"… Are they any good?"
Tinny clanking broke the atmosphere as Law set his knife and fork on the porcelain plate, his delicate fingers nudging the utensils until they were completely parallel to one another and perpendicular to him. Lou could sense that the faux attempt at small talk was irksome, though the overwhelming urge to talk was irresistible.
"In order to avoid this menial small talk and pointless chattering I eat in my office for a reason," Law snapped. He then massaged his temple with those same delicate fingers. "If you insist on not leaving then can you at least not talk?"
Someone's a bit testy tonight, Lou thought, noting how his normally easy going charm was short lived. It seemed the honeymoon period had come and gone within the space of a day, and the suave character was replaced with an ill-tempered one. However this ill-tempered Law seemed more natural, as if the real human beneath finally overrode the façade of cool detachment. This natural reaction was almost as attractive as his mannerly charm that had initial drawn her to him. Lou was taken aback by his sudden change in character, but smiled gently in the hopes of diffusing his irritation.
"Sorry, Captain. I'll be quiet." She drew an imaginary key across her closed lips and flicked the similarly imaginary key into the corner, resorting to sitting in the chair in front of his desk. A thick, red rimmed book on his desk titled 'Thoracic Aortic Dissection Repair' caught her attention and she drew it into her lap only to be stopped by a tattooed hand. For the first time Lou's blue eyes were drawn the 'DEATH' tattoos imprinted on his fingers like a foreboding indication of his victim's imminent future.
"That's an expensive book and complicated surgery." The hand seized the book and moved it to a smaller pile behind the desk, and replaced it with a thinner book marked 'Orathon's Principles and Doctrine's'. "Start with this one, it's simpler for your small labourer's mind."
The cocky smirk in his voice was obvious and Lou humoured his deprecating version of wit by taking the book with both hands, feeling the strange embossed cover beneath her fingers. Dog eared corners and small tags jutted out from the book indicating that it was used often enough. She flipped through a few pages, unsure of majority of the words yet able to slowly work her way through the first few pages. Although her reading skills were certainly above those of her writing skills, the content was still on a comprehension level far above her own.
So she opted to sit in his company and examine the diagrams, while occasionally glancing up to examine Law's bespectacled face which was buried deeply in thick medical textbook. The atmosphere had shifted to one of comfortable companionship, or at least not a dislike of the other's presence.
Lou couldn't help but smile to herself behind her book.
Food really was the only means of conversion.