Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Though there are to watch out for words)

Note: I think I honestly suck at drabbles. This was a drabble request but I kinda got in the mood to write a bit longer and it ended up as a one-shot. For ravenandcat. Here is one of your requests. Though I had to tweak the gangster-looking part and the drabble part. Enjoy!

Well yeah. This could probably be a multi-chapter fic. Probably.

Summary: Nami knew right there and then that trouble had walked straight into her bar.


LITTLE BITS AND PIECES OF HEAVEN

30 : The Cat Burglar


Nami had been observing the man from the moment he first entered the establishment.

He is sitting alone on the far booth—alone and quiet. His back was facing her but she could still make out a hint of greenish hair against the subdued yellow light of the lamp fixtures.

What initially caught her attention when he first walked in was his well-built physique and imposing atmosphere.

He exuded danger and confidence in every step he took. If the bar was jam-packed tonight, he would've halted all chatter and activity just by his presence alone.

In the dim light she cannot clearly make out the features of his face from where she was situated but she'd bet every beli in her possession that he is rather handsome.

He is exactly the type she would love to spend days in bed with.

He didn't bother walking up to the bar counter to ask her for anything, nor did he made any signal that he wanted one like most of her patrons would do. He just headed straight into one of the farthest booth and sat there.

Nami was already used to all kinds of people coming into her bar. Most use the place for clandestine meetings or under the table transactions. She had played the part of the oblivious bar owner perfectly over the years.

She couldn't care less about their agendas to be honest. Clean or not, legal or illegal... as long as they bought liquor and food and not cause trouble for her and her business, they'd never hear anything from her.

The soft tinkling of the door's bell snatched her attention away. Her eyes moved from the man to the entrance as two of her customers step outside into the quiet night.

Nami frowned slightly as she wiped the drinking glasses clean before arranging them underneath the counter.

That's strange.

Slow nights are rare for her bar. It was always bustling with activity and drunk, noisy regulars. But tonight... it was surprisingly near devoid of customers.

Saved for the man she was observing earlier.

Could it be?

Two days prior, news had spread that a prized artifact was stolen from one of the East Blue mob families' estate—right underneath the noses of their esteemed security team, which were hired solely to guard the recently dug out relic.

That incident actually ignited a confrontation between two of the families—who were both vying to get their hands on the priceless item—as one accused the other of stealing what would've been the 'greatest archaeological find' in this side of the sea.

Not that Nami cares about all that shit. Those people are only waiting for a reason to maim each other for a long, long time now and realized they could use this opportunity to their advantage and wipe each other out.

If she is correct... then that is probably the reason why most of her patrons are absent tonight. They are all busy shooting each other in the faces right at this moment.

She let out a sigh as tugged her apron loose, leaving it on top of the counter. At this rate… it would probably be better to just close earlier than usual before any fighting finds its way to her bar and she gets drag into the fray.

Artifacts—like the one stolen—often fetch a hefty amount in the black market. A lot of the filthy rich want to get their hands on such rare items that they are willing to pay no matter how high or even what the price are.

Especially if it has something to do with the lost treasure of the legendary Gol D. Roger.

And that's actually the part where Nami cares.

According to her resources, the recently found item contains a clue, pointing to the treasure's whereabouts.

Just imagine how much that would cost in the black market!

No wonder the mob families are willing to off each other for it. She definitely understood where they are coming from.

And just imagine if SHE successfully charted its location and FINDS it!

Turning around, she opened the display counter behind her and grabbed one of the expensive bottles.

There are feats worth celebrating after all. Nami thought with a smile. She would enjoy a drink after she close up the bar—her own private celebration.

To a wonderfully done stealing stint! She mentally congratulated herself. And just right under that stupid long nose of the Mugiwara family's so-called head of security.

He is no match for the cat burglar herself!

But first things first.

Nami poured one of the best (and yeah, a bit expensive) whiskeys of her bar in a lowball glass.

She had to send her remaining customer away.

Balancing the tray and drink in one hand, she sauntered towards his direction.

As she approached him, she realized that this is the first time she had seen this green-haired man in the area. Despite how deep her intelligence and connections regarding the families and the underground world... she had no idea who he is.

He doesn't look like he is a gangster or that he belongs to any of the mob families. But somehow his intimidating presence would make one think twice.

Nami's instincts were telling her that there are no random strangers in this dangerous world.

He looks pretty much like a damn normal business man relaxing after a long day, with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up, dark grey vest, no coat…

She nonchalantly set down the glass of her finest liquor in front of him. "It's on the house," she said cheekily. "I'll be closing up soon, sor—"

And she hesitated. Her eyes zeroed in on a rather expensive watch on his wrist that only someone from one of the old crime families would be capable of wearing.

"Cat burglar."

And Nami stiffened immediately at the moniker, the smile on her face instantly disappearing.

She slowly lifted her eyes to look at the man's face.

Nami watched him downed the drink like it was nothing but water and set the glass back down the table just as an amused yet cruel smirk appeared on his lips.

The slight dipped of his head when he greeted her made the three earrings on his left ear glint as the dim light of the bar reflected against them. Cold grey eye met hers. And the scar running vertically along his left eye made her skin prickle.

And that was when Nami realized… her bar wasn't empty for the reasons she were initially thinking.

When he stood up and towered over her. Her breath got caught in her throat.

She heard stories. She heard rumors.

She heard about a one-eyed man with a scar on his face, whose skills with killings were unmatched that almost all of the mob families are terrified of him.

She heard of his ruthlessness.

She heard of him. Even if she had never before seen him in flesh.

But she heard of HIM.

When she stole the artifact from the Mugiwara family's estate, she never imagined someone as high-ranking as him would be sent out.

Nami knew right there and then that trouble had walked straight into her bar.

And there was no way to escape it.

Roronoa Zoro—the right-hand man of the Mugiwara family's head—had personally come for her.


The End –


R and R please.