A Rose in the Ocean

Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue. Shanks and his crew are Eiichiro Oda's. Not mine (unfortunately).

Chapter 3

Kerika was running. Shanks was miles ahead of her, strolling at a leisurely pace, but she wasn't getting any closer to him. She tried calling out to him, but no words came, not even a sound could be coaxed from her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes as she ran harder, exerting herself and reaching out for him. Suddenly, a black veil fell between them and her sister and mother came charging at her from inside it, bayonets trained on her.

Kerika woke with a start, bolting upright and swinging with her clenched fists.

"Woah-ho-hoah there." Shanks said, tilting his upper body back to dodge her flailing arms.

"As you were saying, Doc? She wouldn't be conscious for another day or so? From the looks of it, I'd like to say she's ready to have another go."

Livesy Benbow, or as everyone knew him as Doc, was an old man who kept to the bilges and for the most part drank himself comatose. Kerika didn't mind, for drunk or not, he was the best damn medic she'd ever had the displeasure of being patched up by. He was the one who had sewn up the gaping wound that had been inflicted on her face- which now bore a scar that ran from one jaw over the bridge of her nose to the other side of the jaw.

"I did say that, di'n I?" he scratched his chin for a moment then twirled at the corners of his white mustache. "Well, the poison that arrow was dipped in should have had her knocked out for at least as long. But our Keri's a fighter, she is."

"I noticed." Shanks said flatly.

Kerika's eyes darted between the two of them as they spoke, her arms long having gone limp, palms at rest facing upward. If anything, she felt agitated, her head had remnants of that spinning, hungover feeling.

"Hey, Doc..." Kerika said slowly, the very sound waves coming from her mouth causing an unpleasant pounding in her ears. "Go ask Shi for a bottle of bourbon."

Doc cocked his head. "Not a wise choice, m'dear."

"For you, Doctor Doofus."

He chortled and shuffled out the door, the hinge squeaking a little too much for Kerika's liking.

"Eugh. We need to get that oiled." she winced.

She lifted her heavy eyelids and locked eyes with Shanks. It dawned on her that they were now alone, and she felt like complete shit. This encounter just couldn't go anymore the opposite of how she'd planned.

"What did I tell you?" Shanks said slowly, as if he sensed her agony, most likely an understanding from several mornings after several nights of binge drinking. His voice had a slight patronizing tone, like that of a father's gently scolding a child.

Kerika rested her head to the side and game him an unamused look.

"How is my crew? No one was harmed?"

"They're fine, the only close call was yourself. I'm starting to wonder if they were even after us at all, but after you."

"Why would they be?" Kerika asked, fingering her necklace as she thought. "My bounty's not that high, and I don't cause more than the usual ruckus."

Shanks stood from her bedside and walked over to the windows. "Whatever it is," he said, "We need to find somewhere to lay low for a while. I'm sure the marine headquarters will not take too kindly to us demolishing nearly their entire crew."

"...Nearly?" Kerika echoed.

He gave her a tight-lipped look and after pausing he explained himself.

"When I saw you go down all I could focus on was getting to you. I sent my guys to make sure everyone else was okay- two had apparently been playing dead and snuck off on a cokboat."

Kerika couldn't even begin to put words to her agitation. Shanks sensed this and spoke again, cautiously.
"You know what this means, don't you?"

Kerika stared at the wall in silence, imagining herself crawling into the knotty hole that was there.

"We're going to have to lay low for a while," he repeated, "Find an island or inlet, hide there until enough time's passed and the heat's died down. We really can't afford another attack now, and you can bet they'll be sending a whole armada next time."

Kerika stared, unfocused, and stroked her thumb along her upper lip in contemplation. Then it occurred to her how she may have become the Marines' target. Why it hadn't dawned on her previously was beyond her knowledge, but either way, Shanks was right.

She turned to face him. He was leaning against the window, looking back over his shoulder, not really focusing on anything in particular. His ginger bangs hung over his eyes. His cape and hat had been abandoned, the former draped over the back of the tan armchair at the foot of Kerika's bed. The hat sat, moping silently on the desk across the room.

"I'll need to speak with Nathan," Kerika said, splitting the silence and breaking Shanks' daze. "My navigator has a pretty thorough knowledge of this area and I'm sure he'd be able to find an inconspicuous spot that's not the too obvious."

Shanks nodded to her in quiet agreement.