Mass x Acceleration

By Dixxy Mouri

Chapter Twenty-Three: Dr. Arthur Gala

Friday, July 2, was not starting off on the right foot.

For one, Nami had woken up alone – not that it seemed to matter much anymore. Sanji's mood seemed to shift a little about two weeks ago and everyone else was reporting that he seemed to be doing better, but she wasn't seeing it much at home. His cooking had started to get a little diverse again, but he seemed skittish around her and seemed to be even less interested in talking with her than he had been before. It hurt, but considering what had triggered his self-imposed isolation and knowing how he'd felt about her in the past, it sort of made sense. Ria, whom he was talking to, was an attractive woman, but Sanji had never fawned over the seamstress like the way he'd pined for her or Robin or Vivi or any of the other pretty girls they'd encountered during their travels together. With her, maybe he just needed a little more time.

She poked her head outside the room, wondering if Sanji was still home. The rest of the apartment was dark, and it didn't look like her roommate had been there long at all after waking. She frowned. Maybe Haralson needed him extra early at the Cider Mug and he hadn't had time to make coffee or toast or anything for breakfast.

Nami took one last look around their bedroom, and seeing the empty side of the bed where Sanji usually slept made her feel lonesome and melancholy. She could feel knots in her stomach, and Nami wasn't even sure she would be able to hold down breakfast that morning. She couldn't figure out why. She undressed, grabbed a towel, and headed into the bathroom to shower.

Once the water was on and she was under the steady stream, she realized that she'd forgotten to pick up shampoo and conditioner even though she'd been running low on it for a few days now. She swore and reached for Sanji's supply – it wasn't as if this was the first time they'd borrowed each other's soaps before, with Sanji occasionally smelling like apple blossoms or Nami smelling of musky mints and spices when it happened.

But of course this meant that a smell that reminded her of Sanji would be haunting her all day long today, something she didn't consider until she shut the water off and took a deep breath. She finished her bathroom routine (luckily her stock of toothpaste and mouthwash was still plentiful) and headed back to the bedroom to choose an outfit for the day.

She picked out a creamy yellow blouse and a long pink skirt and slipped her feet into a pair of white flats. Nami looked herself over in the mirror, trying to decide if she wanted her wig today or not. Her hair was getting longer, but still not long enough to cover the scar on the back of her neck – it was the wig or a scarf again for sure. She grabbed a silky white scarf with pink flowers on it, tied it around her neck, and went looking for her purse to head to work.

Things would only be going downhill from there.

Nami was about halfway to town hall when she spotted some of the local boys playing some sort of ball game in a side lot. They looked her way and waved, smiling and shouting to get her attention. Nami paused and waved back. She didn't know their names, but it was nice to see that the people in town had gotten used to her and Sanji's presence, although her position as the mayor's assistant and his position as the front man in a band probably didn't hurt.

"You look really pretty today, Miss Nami!" one of the boys called.

Nami blushed a little – even if it was from a group of rowdy boys, it was nice to be called "really pretty", especially on a day that she didn't exactly feel very wanted. Maybe it was a sign that today was starting to pick up a little. "Thanks, boys!" she called back. A chorus of mismatched responses resounded, and she smiled.

"Someday, I'm gonna marry a girl as pretty as Miss Nami!" one of the boys proclaimed.

"Yeah right, your face looks like a bug!" another shouted.

"Oh yeah, well your face looks like a butt!"

"Your face looks like a donkey's butt!"

The boys' game started to dissolve into a string of mean spirited insults, and Nami felt bad for being the catalyst. Seeing as she still had some time before she needed to be at town hall, she decided to try and play peacemaker with the boys. "Boys, boys! Knock it off!" she said, trying to separate them before it came to blows. "You're too young to be worrying about who you're going to marry and no one's face looks like dog poop!"

Unfortunately her words fell on deaf ears as one of the boys launched himself at one of the others. Nami cried out and tried to get between them, successfully taking the blow herself but it sent her careening into a nearby mud puddle. She cried out as she sunk into the muck and felt the twigs and rocks hiding within tear at her skin.

"Miss Nami!"

"You idiot, you're not supposed to hit women!"

"We are so sorry, Miss Nami! Please don't have us arrested, we didn't mean it!"

"Yeah, we're just stupid boys! Please forgive us!"

Nami slowly forced herself to sit up. Her body ached and she could feel the sting from her newly acquired cuts and bruises. Her hair was dripping with mud and twigs, and her outfit may as well have been ruined. She closed her eyes and tried to hold back sobs. Had this been on any other day, it wouldn't have bothered her. Hell, had it been before That Man took her and Sanji away from Luffy, she might have chased after the boys with her staff in hand and threatened to tear them all limb from limb. Instead, she was just trying to do anything, anything, to not cry.

"Boys! What the hell is going on here?!"

The boys all hung their heads as the shadow of Dr. Gala hovered over Nami. She looked up at the good doctor – he looked angry as he knelt down to help her to her feet. She knew he wasn't angry at her – after all, she was the one covered in mud – but it was still intimidating. "We're sorry, Dr. Gala – we didn't mean to push her," one of them said. "Honest."

"Your mothers will all be hearing from me by the end of the day – I'd suggest you all head home now and tell them what happened before I do. It might help cut down your punishments," the doctor said coolly. He threw one of Nami's arms around his shoulder. His voice softened as he turned to speak with her. "Are you all right to walk? I'm taking you back to my office to get you cleaned up and checked out."

"I need to get to work," Nami said somberly.

Gala shook his head. "Mac will understand – in fact, you," the doctor randomly selected one of the boys, "go to the mayor's office and tell Mac why Nami's going to be late today. Am I understood?" The boy nodded and scampered off towards town hall while the rest of the boys dispersed to reach their mothers before the doctor did.

"You didn't need to do that," Nami said.

The doctor shook his head, scooping Nami up in his arms. She protested, but the doctor wouldn't have it. "I'm not taking any chances with you until I'm sure you didn't twist an ankle or something. And those boys should know better than to be rough housing like that." He started to walk and Nami put her arms around his neck to hold on.

"Boys will be boys," she said.

"Well, yes, of course," said Dr. Gala, chuckling a little. "A little mud and a few scrapes is good for them, but dragging an unsuspecting bystander into it is unacceptable. This will probably be a good lesson learned for them, but for now you need to get cleaned up and checked out – you are not in a good position to get an infection, Nami."

Nami sighed and stayed quiet as they turned away from town hall and headed towards the doctor's home.

For the most part, Dr. Gala made house calls when he treated her or Sanji, both before and after they'd arrived at the new apartment, so Nami had never actually seen the inside of his home before. They breezed past the living room (a humble affair with modest but well-matched furniture) and into a small examination room. It looked like a warmer version of the rooms they'd been experimented on in That Man's ship, and Nami whimpered.

Gala shook his head. "You know I'm not going to hurt you," he said, putting Nami down in a chair instead of on the table. He went over to a cabinet and pulled out a large, soft looking blanket that he draped over the steel examination table. "Will that help?" Nami examined it, and slowly nodded. Satisfied, Gala helped her out of the chair and hoisted her onto the table before beginning to search for something to clean her up with.

Nami looked around the room. It wasn't as bad as she originally thought – the walls were painted a soft baby blue color and there were framed pictures of cherry blossom trees against snowy backdrops. It was different from what she usually saw around the island. Most of the residents accented their homes with décor that called back to the island's name, so the pink sakura petals were a taste of something a little different. She continued to look around, and then her eyes caught something that took her by surprise.

There was a small bookshelf in the corner, mostly containing a collection of casual reading likely meant for Gala's patients to use while waiting to be seen. There were children's picture books and collections of poetry (including Sanji's favorite Imaki Imahara collection) and a hodge podge of other easy to digest material. But what caught her attention was the décor sitting on top of the shelf, and it made her eyes widen in surprise.

It was a snow globe.

And inside were the Drum Rockies.

"Are you all right?" asked Gala. Nami turned to the doctor and saw he had filled a basin with soapy water and was holding a wash cloth. The doctor gently took her hand and started to dab the now caked mud off her skin. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you sure you're okay in here? Should we move somewhere else?"

"That snow globe . . ." said Nami.

Gala paused in his washing. "It's not from around here."

"I know. Those are the Drum Rockies."

The doctor chuckled softly, but his voice was tinged with sorrow. "So you've heard of them."

"I've been there before. I'd have died if I – OW!"

"Sorry!" said Gala. "You got a nasty cut there."

"It's okay, but now I want to know," said Nami, looking at the doctor in a whole new light. "Are you originally from there?" she asked. Gala didn't answer her, and Nami looked him up at down as he quietly (and more gently) worked on cleaning around the wound on her arm. She felt a pit in her stomach. "You are from Drum, aren't you?"

Gala closed his eyes. "Not originally," he said. "I was born in the South Blue – a place called Rose Ring Island. It was a beautiful island with roses growing everywhere, but when I was ten, right around the age of the boys who did this to you, something terrible happened. Our island was struck by a terrible plague and the doctors on our island couldn't do anything to help – at least half of them died from it themselves."

"That sounds awful," Nami said.

The doctor swallowed. "The plague took my parents, and it wasn't long before I was stricken as well. I thought I was going to join them, and then he showed up. . ."

Many years ago, Rose Ring Island . . .

Bobby was tired, achy, and nauseous. He felt miserable, and he wondered if this feeling was what made everyone on the island give up so easily in their fight against the plague. He closed his eyes and stayed in his bed in what was once a library but was now a quarantine center for those afflicted with the illness. His roommates, an old married couple, hadn't move in a while and he was beginning to wonder if they'd succumbed to the disease.

It made him a little jealous – at least they weren't suffering anymore. If anything they looked almost peaceful. But he hated them a little bit, too. They'd gotten to live long lives before the plague came to town. He knew the old man had been a high ranking Marine officer, and the old woman had been a prize winning botanist who'd settled on the island to cultivate the roses. Their hands were still clasped together, and Bobby didn't doubt they'd been in love.

He'd never get any of that. He was just a kid. He'd never see the world or make anything of himself. No, the life of Robert Birdman would be forgotten over the years, nothing more than a name on a gravestone. His parents were already dead and buried and he had no other family to speak of, so he couldn't even look forward to being missed.

It wasn't fair.

There was a knock on the door. Bobby didn't move. He didn't care.

"Hello?" The door squeaked open, and a man in a white lab coat stepped inside. Bobby turned his head – a doctor, no doubt, but this one he didn't recognize. He'd seen all of the doctors on the island before, and all they'd done was try to ease his suffering, telling him not to be afraid and that they were going to make him comfortable. He had no reason to believe this man would be any different.

The new doctor approached his bed, looking past him at the bed with the old married couple. "Are they still alive?" he asked.

Bobby shook his head. "I don't think so," he said.

The doctor drifted over to the couple to confirm this. He shook his head. "Their bodies have gone cold," he said. "They've been dead for at least a few hours." The doctor returned to Bobby's bedside and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "So let me treat you," he said.

"What good will that do? I'm dying," said Bobby.

"Not on my watch." The doctor felt his forehead and clucked his tongue. "I've seen this before. It's a nasty disease, I'll give you that, but it's not untreatable." Bobby turned his head to the doctor, not believing what he was hearing. "The disease travels by insect and is most commonly found in the Grand Line. My colleagues and I suspect that your island recently had a trade ship or a pirate ship arrive here some time ago – if they had any of those insects on board, that would explain how the illness got here."

Bobby remembered the ship in question – there was a merchant ship that had arrived carrying perfumes and textiles from the Arabasta Kingdom. His mother had been particularly excited for the scents and been among the first to the docks to purchase some. He swallowed. "So it's the ship's fault my mom and dad are dead?"

The doctor paused and shook his head. "I doubt they would have brought this on the island intentionally." He bent down and put a black bag on the bed, then produced a vial of liquid and a syringe. "I come from an island were medicine is widely researched and taught – I suspect we're among the best in the world when it comes to curing disease. Several of us were conducting a seminar on an island not too far from here and heard about the trouble this island was in. We decided to see what we could do to help. And based on what we've seen, we can."

Bobby's eyes widened. "I'm not going to die?"

The doctor laughed and ruffled his hand through his hair. "Not today."

The boy could feel his eyes begin to swell with tears. "Thank you, doctor . . . doctor . . ."

"Dr. Gala. Dr. Arthur Pendleton Gala."

About a week later, Bobby was feeling much better. He still had a slight cough, but he was up and around, bringing food and water to those who were still recovering from the illness. Dr. Gala and his colleagues (Dr. Barton, Dr. Rogers, Dr. Romanov, Dr. Stark, and Dr. Odinson) seemed impressed with his willingness to help and gave him some additional guidance in keeping his neighbors comfortable.

"You seem to be taking to this quite well," Dr. Gala quipped one night. Bobby, the doctors, and a few of the other islanders who'd been trying to help were gathered for dinner, and the boy had taken a seat at the table next to his favorite of the island's visitors. "Perhaps even more so than the adults have. Your parents must be proud."

Bobby frowned, looking at his plate glumly. "My parents died before you got here," he said.

Dr. Gala rubbed Bobby's shoulder. "I'm sorry we didn't get here in time."

"It isn't your fault," said Bobby, moving his food around in disinterest. "You didn't know about it until a bunch of people had already died. You couldn't have known."

"Well, where are you going to go next?"

"I don't know. Don't have any family, and most of our friends died in the plague, too." He paused, then looked up at Dr. Gala. "Can I stay with you?"

Dr. Gala seemed surprised. "What?"

"Teach me medicine!" said Bobby. "I want to be a doctor, too!" His eyes widened, and the more he thought about it the more excited he got. "If I become a great doctor like you, then I can prevent something like this from happening on another island, can't I? I'll study real hard and help as many people as I can!"

Dr. Gala looked at him stoically. "I'm going to need to make sure that it's okay to bring you along back home to Drum Kingdom. My colleagues will need to be okay with having another mouth to feed, and even if your family is gone someone here has to give us the okay before we can just run off with you, you know what I mean?"

Bobby threw his arms around the doctor, nearly sobbing into his shoulder. "Thank you, thank you!"

Present Day

"He adopted me before we left the island," said Gala. "He and his wife wanted children, but they were having trouble conceiving. Boy was she surprised when her husband came home with a child in tow." He sighed. "It took a while – I think she was upset her husband went and adopted a kid without her involvement – but before long she accepted me and we were a family until they passed away about nine years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you," said Gala. He closed his eyes. "It was a disease even the doctors of Drum Kingdom hadn't encountered before. I had already moved out and on my own so I was spared infection, but it was still devastating to me, although the last thing that they said to me was that they were proud of me and wanted me to know they believed I had grown up to be a good doctor."

They were quiet for a few minutes, Nami too afraid to voice a question she had about how the doctor ended up here on Apple Island. He sounded like he loved Drum and the family he'd found there, which meant there was only one reason and one reason alone he would have left it all behind him, and it made her stomach churn. "So then, when you left . . . was it because of Wapol?"

Gala's eyes darkened. "So you know about that, huh?"

"I was treated by Dr. Kureha and her apprentice," said Nami. "They were the only doctors left on the island when we arrived." She put her hand on her stomach. "I'd been bitten by a bug long thought extinct, and I got really sick. We didn't have a doctor at the time, my crew started to look for an island with one and we ended up on Drum. Luffy and Sanji-kun brought me to her, and the trip nearly killed the two of them, too. But we all made it."

Gala snorted. "So the old woman avoided Wapol for a long time, huh?"

"Wapol had abandoned the island about a year earlier and took the 20 Surgeons with him," Nami said bitterly. Gala turned to her with wide, fearful eyes. Nami frowned. "They were attacked by a pirate crew and he fled like a coward. When we got there his old captain of the guards, Dalton, had more or less taken over running the island."

"He was a good man – I'm glad to hear that he stayed," said Gala. "As for Wapol . . ."

"He tried to come back, but, well, Luffy has a habit of getting involved in the affairs of the islands we visit and kind of kicked his ass to kingdom come. I doubt he'll be back again. The 20 surgeons and most of Wapol's guards abandoned him after that, and I'm pretty sure Dalton was volunteered to take over as the island's new leader – not that I think he wanted it, but he loves the people there and perhaps felt it was his duty to protect them." Nami turned to Gala and smiled. "That means you can probably go back home if you wanted to, Gala."

"I can't, though I'm happy to hear Wapol is gone and the island is doing better now," said Gala.

"Why can't you go home?"

"Well, for one, I'm the only doctor on this island – I have a few students, but they're still years away from being able to practice on their own," said Gala. "But even without that, it would be impossible for me to go back there now. Not after what happened."

"What happened?" asked Nami.

"Well, like several other doctors, including Dr. Kureha, we tried to hide from Wapol's men to help those who couldn't seek help from the 20 Surgeons. Most of us had finshed in the top 30 – I myself was ranked 22nd – and were still among the best on the island. But little by little our numbers dwindled, and when I was finally caught I chose to be set adrift, thinking that if I was lucky I would be picked up by a Marine ship or land on an island to get help. A small chance is better than none, after all," said Gala. By now Nami had been cleaned up and Gala was working on disinfecting and bandaging her wounds.

"So why can't you go home?"

"Because I landed on the wrong island at the wrong time. I sought an audience with the magistrate in charge of the island, but as it turns out his son had made some very, very bad decisions that resulted in some poor girl ending up dead AND this man was a good friend of Wapol's," Gala said. "Instead of squealing on his friend to the World Government and watching his son hang, he decided to put the blame on me instead."

Nami's eyes widened. "He framed you for MURDER?!"

"Yes. I never even met the girl and suddenly I was the monster who killed her. Of course I proclaimed my innocence, but no one wanted to believe the outsider when their beloved magistrate was ensuring them they'd caught the miserable bastard who'd done it. I spent about a week in jail awaiting my demise, but on the day of the execution, well, I suppose you could say I caught a lucky break . . ."

Seven years ago . . .

"Kill the bastard!"

"Take his head!"

Gala wanted to scream back at the crowd as he was led to the gallows, but knew it wouldn't do any good. He knew how this worked. Guilty men who knew they were guilty screamed they were innocent all the time, and there was little he could do to prove his own. Like it or not, he was going to be executed for a crime he didn't commit, all to protect the monster ruling over his beloved Drum Island and the monster who'd really killed that poor girl.

They were only about one hundred yards from the platform, and he could see the glint of the executioner's axe. He gulped, twisting his wrists about in their bindings. Beheading. That was to be his ultimate fate. All of the hard word he'd put in studying to become a doctor, all of the disease he'd cured and the babies he'd helped birth and the elderly he'd made comfortable in their final days and hours, all of it meant nothing now. Now he was nothing but a criminal to these people.

The walk felt like it was taking an eternity, but once his foot ascended the first step it felt as if it had all happened in an instant, and his legs buckled under him. The crowd roared and the guards yelled at him to get to his feet, but he was frozen in fear and panic. He shouldn't be here. He didn't belong here. He didn't deserve to be here! He was innocent, and he threw his head back to yell at the sky.

"I DIDN'T DO IT! I'M A DOCTOR! I SAVE LIVES! I'VE NEVER TAKEN ONE!"

The crowd booed him as the guards ripped him from the steps and onto his feet, shoving him forward to the chopping block and the executioner. They shoved him into position, and he could see the magistrate and his monster of a son sitting on a platform about twenty yards away. He snarled – not a hint of remorse could be seen on either of their faces. They would sleep well that night, he thought, because his life, the lives of the people of Drum Kingdom, and the life of that poor girl meant nothing to them.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

It didn't come.

Instead he could hear the crowd screaming, but they weren't screaming for his blood. He opened his eyes and saw the crowd dispersing, a group of rough and tumble looking men chasing after them with cutlasses and clubs. He looked to the side and saw a man with a graying black ponytail fighting off the executioner and a rotund man eating a leg of meat with one hand while he held off the guards with the gun in his other hand.

A third man approached him, and Gala felt his throat go dry. A one armed man in a black cloak with three scars over his left eye and the unmistakable mane of red atop his head. Those men in the crowd and up on the execution platform with him were pirates. Pirates sailing under the flag of one of the Four Emperors.

Red Haired Shanks.

Shanks knelt before him, a grin on his face. "I believe you," he said.

Gala swallowed. "You do?"

"Yeah, I do. You any good?"

Gala was afraid to answer, but nodded.

Shanks grinned. "Want to get out of here?"

Gala wasn't given a choice – a third man, this one with blonde dreadlocks dressed in a starry cape, had hoisted him over his shoulder. "Captain, let's get out of here!"

"You didn't let him answer!" said Shanks.

It all started to sink in. If he wanted to live, he needed to go with these pirates. He'd sort it out later. If he stayed here, he wouldn't have a later to sort it all out with. "I'll go, I'll go!" he said. "Get me out of here!" Shanks grinned and led his men off the execution platform, taking the condemned doctor with them.

Some hours later, after he'd been fed and cared for by Shanks' personal doctor, he was called into the captain's quarters for a meeting. Nervous, but still grateful for his life, Gala let the first mate (Benn Beckman) lead him to one of the four pirates said to rule over the New World like an emperor. Benn stopped outside of the door. "Shanks would like to speak with you in private," he said.

"All right," said Gala, his palms sweating as he knocked. Benn left him, and once the knock had sounded he could hear the voice of the surprisingly chipper pirate ask him to come in. The doctor fumbled with the door knob for a few moments before stepping inside, where Shanks was looking at him in amusement, a stein of alcohol in hand.

"I've got some for you, too – don't worry, it's not poisoned or anything, I kind of need you alive," said Shanks, gesturing to the short table he was seated on the floor next to. Gala looked around – the whole room looked much more . . . casual . . . than he would have pictured. Shanks was one of the Four Emperors – he expected gold plated chairs and piles of treasure and big mahogany desks with maps and navigational equipment. Instead it was a fairly humble room with several shelves lined with alcohol, a simple bed with plain bedding, and large cushions on the floor for seating. Gala took the spot across from Shanks and took a whiff of the alcohol.

"It's from my home island – its good stuff. Try it!"

Gala closed his eyes and knocked back a mouthful while Shanks watched in glee. It was strong, but sweet – the emperor was right, it was pleasant. He put the stein down and turned his attention back to Shanks. "Thank you for saving my life back there, but I need to know – why did you save me? What could a man like you possibly want with a man like me?"

Shanks' eyes lowered. "One of the reasons they call me one of the Four Emperors is that I've claimed several islands on both sides of the Grand Line as my territory. They fly my flag and give me access to some of their goods, usually for free but sometimes at a discount, in exchange for my protection. But one of my islands is in a kind of trouble I can't protect them from."

Gala remembered the words he'd shouted from the base of the platform. "They're sick."

"Very. About a year ago they were attacked by pirates and a bunch of people got killed, including two out of the island's three doctors. For a while just having one doctor was fine, but something nasty hit the island a few weeks ago and despite his best efforts, he and several others have succumbed to the disease, but there are still more who are very sick. My doctor is willing to help, of course, but he's never seen this disease before. That's why we need a good doctor – I need someone to help the islanders, and, if possible, stay on to help them in the future."

It was a heavy proposition. On the one hand, Gala couldn't ignore that there was an island full of sick people who needed his help and, worse off, without a doctor in sight. But on the other . . . what of Drum Kingdom? What about Wapol? He looked at Shanks, wondering if he should ask for his help, but then wondered if that would bring more harm to the island than it would good.

No. He couldn't ask Shanks for help. He'd already saved his life, and the mess of bringing an emperor back to the island probably would cause some kind of chaos on the island. Besides, by now the magistrate had probably already contacted the Marines about the "escaped killer" and he suspected he'd have a bounty on his head soon enough.

There really wasn't a choice in the matter. Bring trouble back home, or make a new home where he might be able to do some good. He closed his eyes and nodded. "All right. I'll help you."

Shanks was beaming. "All right! Let's get drunk to celebrate!"

Present Day

"I've been here ever since. I've got a bounty of about five million on my head, but being here on Apple Island? I've never had a problem with it. Most people don't even know about it, and even those who do are inclined to believe me and Shanks about my innocence," said Gala. He sat down. "I'm glad to hear Drum has been saved though, even if it took seven years for it to happen. I suppose I owe your captain a personal debt."

Nami reached over and patted Gala's shoulder. "Sanji-kun and I are alive because you helped us. Luffy will probably see that as 'debt paid' even though I don't think things like that really matter much to him," she said. "I've heard that everyone who's come here since Shanks took over has got a sad story to tell."

Gala smiled, but his eyes were still filled with sadness. "And now you know mine."

"You sure you don't want to at least try and visit your old home? I'm sure Dalton and the others will understand what happened," said Nami, looking over the dressings on her injuries – Gala always did excellent work, and these were no exception. "You must still have friends there. They have to believe you, right? They hated Wapol, too."

"Maybe someday, buy for now my place is here on Apple Island. I'm needed here, and leaving now wouldn't be a good idea, bounty or no bounty. Remember, I'm the only doctor here – I'm not in a position to just up and leave for a trip back home right now," he said. He helped Nami to her feet. "Thank you for telling me about the island's fate. It's given me some peace of mind."

"Of course, Gala." Nami gave him a hug, and the doctor squeezed back.

"You should be fine to go to work – I'll send you my bill later," Gala said with a wink after letting Nami go. "Although consider some of it paid up front – peace of mind like the kind you just gave me can't be paid for in silver and gold." Nami's eyes widened but the doctor shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you tonight."

Nami was about to leave before pausing and turning to Gala in confusion. "Tonight?"

"Hmm?" the doctor looked at her.

"You said you'd see me tonight."

Gala's eyes widened. "Oh, um, did I? Er, must have been a slip of the tongue. My apologies."

Nami felt a nagging suspicion that something was up. "Okay, Gala," she said slowly, not sure she believed him. She threw her purse over her shoulder (now ruined from the mud) and composed herself, smiling as she waved on her way out. "I'll see you around, Gala. Take care of yourself."

"You as well, Nami," the doctor said with a smile.

He still looked like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Mac was more worried about her than concerned she was late, but Nami insisted she was fine – just a little less put together than she would have liked because of the mud. "Should I run home and get changed?" she asked.

Mac shook his head a bit too quickly. "No, no, it's fine, accidents happen."

"You sure?"

"Please stay here."

Nami nodded, but found that Mac seemed to be struggling to come up with things for her to do before he finally left a half hour early and told her to stay until five, just in case someone came in looking for something. Nami shrugged and waved goodbye to the mayor, wondering what was up with him that afternoon.

About five minutes of five, Ria came in. "Hey, sugah, I heard you had some excitement today."

"Yeah, but I'm okay now," said Nami, showing off her bandaged arms. "What are you in for this evening?"

"Oh, just wanted to visit and see how you were doing," she said. Nami looked Ria up and down and raised an eyebrow. The seamstress, being someone who worked in the fashion business, was always well put together, but today she seemed a little bit . . . more put together than usual. She was in a red dress with a cowl neck and a gold chain belt hanging around her waist with a red leather clutch in one hand. There were red and gold pumps on her feet and gold bangles on her wrists, a pair of dangling gold earrings hanging from her ears.

"You're awfully dressed up," said Nami.

"I felt like it," Ria said casually, looking at her nails (which were painted red). "You, on the other hand, kind of look like hell. Let me bring you back to the shop and get you dolled up in something nicer, sugah. After the day you've had you could use it. Sometimes I feel a lot better when my bra and panties are matching and I've got a killer outfit on."

"I don't need to know about your bra and panties," said Nami.

Ria smirked. "White with pink and red flowers on them."

Nami groaned. "I said I didn't want to know-"

"No, you said you didn't need to know," said Ria. She looked at the clock. "You off at five?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Let me help you get the office cleaned up."

"I haven't had anything to do – I'm good to go once I've grabbed my purse," said Nami.

"Ah, okay," said Ria. "Then at five we can scoot."

"Ria, it's fine, I just need to run home and get a shower-"

"Oh, and is something wrong with my shower?" She sniffed the air. "You borrowed Sanji's soap again, I can smell it on you. I've got some green tea infused body wash that will get you all nice and relaxed, and then I'm playing dress up with you. The girls are away on a sleep-over tonight and I'm going to go stir crazy if I have to spend any more time home alone than I need to."

"Ria . . ."

Ria leaned over the desk, a pout on her face. "Please? I want to try out a new dress pattern."

Nami sighed. "All right, fine."

Ria popped back up and clapped her hands. "Yay! We'll get you a matching bra and panty set while we're at it! Ooo, and some cute shoes, and I'll do something cute with your hair, and . . ." Nami tuned Ria out, wondering what the hell had gotten her friend so excited about this new dress pattern. She shrugged, saw the clock reading five, and followed the chattering seamstress out of town hall.

It was a gorgeous dress and fit Nami like a glove.

It was royal blue, with a silky satin bodice and a brocade skirt with delicate pink flowers and winding green vines. A sky blue sash separated the two halves of the dress, and there were layers of pale blue under the skirt to give it a little volume. For her hair, Ria had done it up in a bun with silver, pink, and green barrettes and tied a blue silk scarf around her neck. She had matching flats on her feet, and because the seamstress insisted, Nami had matching blue undergarments with white lace trim underneath it all.

"You look stunning," said Ria.

"Thank you," said Nami. "But isn't this a bit much?"

"Don't be silly!" said Ria. "I happen to have a great idea. Let's run back to your apartment – I want to take you for a night on the town, but we should probably let Sanji know where you're going so he doesn't have a panic attack." Nami looked at her with a pout. "I know, I know, he's being a little distant but he still probably worries about you. Besides, you look cute."

"Is something going on? You, Gala, and Mac are all acting strange today," said Nami.

Ria shrugged. "Hell if I know. I want drinkies."
"I can't have 'drinkies'," Nami replied dryly

"Then you can have apple juice. Now come on, let's go!"

Nami was still suspicious, but shook her head and followed the seamstress outside.

The lights in their apartment were on, but dimmed. Nami frowned – it looked like Sanji was home, but the lighting was a bit off. "Weird," Nami said, reaching into her purse (a new blue one Ria had given her since her other purse had been destroyed by the mud incident) for the keys to her apartment. "Looks like Sanji-kun's home but he's got the lights all funky."

Ria shrugged. "I'm sure it's fine."

"Really? With the way he's been acting for the last six weeks?" asked Nami.

"At least he's been playing nice with everyone else for the last two – it's probably only a matter of time before he goes up to you and goes 'Hey, Nami, I know I've been a bit of a butt for the last few weeks and I am sorry. Please forgive me. I baked you a pie, now you have to forgive me. Please? Pretty please?' and you'll forgive him and things will be better."
"Sanji-kun doesn't talk like that," said Nami.

"You know what I mean, and you can still probably get pie out of the deal." Nami opened the door and led Ria into the lobby. "Maybe the dress will get his attention and it'll snap him out of it. I think we broke a couple of necks on our way here, anyways." Nami looked back at Ria in concern, who just put her hands on her hips and grinned. "Come on."

They went up the stairs to the third floor, Ria chattering away at Nami about how the twins and her shop were doing before they finally stopped outside of the apartment door. There were no lights coming from under the crack, and for a moment Nami was concerned. Had Sanji left? There was a back door by the laundry room – maybe he was avoiding her today and that was why he'd left the apartment so early. She paused, looking at her keys somberly.

"Sugah?"

Nami looked at Ria with a pout. "The lights are off now."

Ria sighed. "Now you're being paranoid."

Nami sighed and stuck the key in the door. The door clicked open and she opened it, only to be greeted by darkness. Her heart sunk. Sanji really wasn't home after all. "Look, maybe we should just-" Nami started before Ria gave her a gentle shove inside, giggling and smirking in some sort of bizarre satisfaction. "Ria! What the hell are you-"

The lights came on with no warning.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NAMI!"

Author's Notes

And we're back. For those who were asking, the road trip went very poorly. My grandmother doesn't like to be anywhere for without her car, and because of her age and health, we don't want her driving across country alone so someone usually goes with her. This time I was the escort and, well, we had bad things happen at LEAST once a day.

The convention (Anime Boston) was enjoyable, although it looks like it'll likely be my last con for a short while (I have one in the fall but I should have beaten the cancer by then – fingers crossed!).

Gala's back story was hinted at shortly after Shanks chased off Tesla, in the line about his being more loyal to Shanks than his own king, which was a direct dig at Wapol. Dr. Arthur Gala's colleagues were named after several of the Avengers (a Dr. Banner seemed too obvious so I didn't include one).

Cancer update: Had another pet scan and although the tumor didn't do as much shrinking, it sounds like its entirely dead tissue at this point. I'm expecting chemo to be done late July and radiation to begin a month later. Overall a good report, just not as good as the last one.

-Dixxy