A/N: The base story of this was written in a ten-day mad dash fugue state and is actually my *first* one piece fic! Very excited to share this with a wider audience!

Content contains: Canon Divergence, Alternate Marineford Events, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical looney tunes ass behaviors, Enemies to Lovers, less of a gay crisis and more of an ethics crisis, Portgas D. Ace Lives

Relationships therein: Portgas D. Ace/Smoker, Smoker & Tashigi, Hina & Smoker

Flight from Alabasta

The first time Smoker met Portgas D Ace, he hadn't been looking for him. The young man had stolen onto his ship and Smoker had caught him pawing through documents in his room. They'd scuffled, both unable to flex their abilities without threatening the ship and therein, their safety. In the end, Ace escaped out the same window he'd shimmied in through, diving down onto his waiting skiff, the Striker, and disappeared into the cover of night—the light of his craft gone too quickly for Smoker to mount any kind of search.

The last time he'd met Ace, the younger man had sighed softly, the draw deep and the release slow as he told Smoker over their shared bottle of cheap-shit whiskey that it might be a while until their next. He'd said when he was done, maybe they could meet up again. When Smoker looked up, having second-guessed himself into silence, it was too late to tell Ace to be careful. He was already gone. In the moment, Smoker had rolled his eyes and dismissed the behavior. Kids had a flair for the dramatic and the Whitebeard boy carried that skill in spades.

Something…something had changed in the middle, though.

Smoker couldn't tell where and it infuriated him. What changed? When had the foundation shifted? Had it ever been solid or had it always been sand?

Before he'd ever heard the name Luffy, Ace had appeared on his radar like a phantom—dipping in and out of the man's business, like a wolf testing a livestock fence. To Ace's merit, he'd never hidden his purpose, spare for their first time when Smoker had scared him out before he could explain himself.

The kid had been looking for a man—another pirate who'd violated their code. Little of that mattered to Smoker. What pirates did amongst themselves was their problem. It was his problem, however, when their conflicts crossed over to the rest of the world. Then it became a punishable offense. But here, dipping in and out at his leisure, Ace had no desire to plunder, spare for what his sticky fingers pilfered out from under the noses of the kitchen staff. Smoker couldn't even find a paper out of place from Ace's growing attempts to grab-and-go, let alone anything actually stolen.

"What? You really think that? —we all just take like that?" Ace snorted as he evaded a jab of Smoker's jitte, midway out the window again. "One, that's stupid. We're not all the same. Two, why would I take something I didn't need?" And out he went.

He wasn't sure why Ace insisted he'd be keeping important documentation in his quarters, instead of a more secure location further within the ship, but the kid kept coming and going and coming and going as he pleased.

For a while after that, Smoker's attention shifted, focusing on chasing down a nasty little up-and-comer named Monkey D Luffy. He had, to Smoker's horror, Roger's grin and steel balls—a dead ringer as blood kin for the old pirate king, even if multiple years spanned between the man's execution and the boy's birth.

Ace still managed to find his way back in despite it all, slowly becoming less a wolf to Smoker and more of a dog nosing into rooms, looking for attention.

Maybe…it was Alabasta, Smoker thought, where the paradigm shifted. He'd found Ace in a restaurant, not entirely able to keep from face-planting into a plate full of food between mouthfuls…

Smoker had never once addressed Ace by his rank and affiliations, but the man wasn't stupid. He'd known. That day, the titles got tossed around for the common folks to hear, directing them to look upon the pirate and see their enemy.

An eyebrow quirked skyward, curiosity in Ace's voice. "So? What do you want from me?"

Smoker returned fire with an entreaty dressed as a reality. "To let me capture you quietly."

Quietly, confidently, "Nope. Think I'll pass."

The marine sighed heavily. "Yeah, I figured. I'm trying to find another pirate at the moment. To be honest, I have no interest in taking you in."

That lit a strange hope in Ace, light on its feet. Perhaps with their familiarity, something new could be built.

"Then just look the other way."

"Can't. Not as long as I'm a marine and you're a pirate." A denial, set in stone.

Ace snorted softly, coupled with a disappointed shake of his head. "That's a bland reason."

They might have fought there and then, but Luffy, like some kind of devil in the machine, stole the moment and plowed through, sending Smoker and Ace through several walls on his way to a meal.

The next night they met, they reflected on the tousle they'd gotten in the streets after the incident in the restaurant. Ace smiled, smug as he dialed it back to recount the split second before Luffy had knocked them both off their asses, heavily complimenting the size of Smoker's chest. And in the midst of Smoker's flaring ire, the kiss Ace stole wasn't what changed things.

It did however mark a shift in his behavior. While perpetually on his self-inflicted mission, if their paths crossed between points, he dropped in, dodged a few swings of the jitte, laughed at yet another threat of arrest, and peppered in a few hungry comments that made Smoker see red.

Some time that, he began entering the window peace offering first…

"Truce, truce–you wouldn't beat a man bearing gifts would you?"

"Would if he was a pirate—"

Ace hit the floor and rolled, a bottle clutched to his chest. "Hey, hey now—calm down! I'll let you arrest me as soon as I get what I set out for! Scout's honor!"

The only experiences Smoker had with wilderness scouts were beating them up as a child, but that came part and parcel with his temper and the tendency of others to mouth off on topics they didn't understand.

Another swing, another near miss.

"—just help me a little and I'll help you!"

"I don't help pirates."

"And here you've been leaving your window unlocked this entire time? That wasn't for me?" Ace's cheshire grin earned some fresh ire and he took the jitte to his ribs for the effort. He collapsed with a grunt and barely saved the bottle from breaking as he fell onto his knees and elbows.

"Portgas D Ace," The jitte raised, level with his chin, just shy of contact. "You are hereby under arre—"

"I know where a pirate raid is going to happen two days from now." The words came tumbling out of the young man before Smoker could finish.

Smoker held his ground, silent.

Ace held his pause as his gazed flicked upward toward the man, but when nothing more came, he continued. "It's out of my path and too far for me to make it in time. Good folks are gonna die. You can make it on this thing though. You should go."

Dark ruddy eyes narrowed sharply. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't like the idea of folks dying, especially because of shit like not being able to pay tithe for protection from the World Government." Despite the threat of seastone, Ace's words bit like an unexpected spark against bare skin. "They're poor. No other Marine ship would come even if they called. You know now. You could do the right thing."

Again, firmer. "Why are you telling me this?" The tip of his jitte touched bare skin, a careful graze against a pale stretch of bared throat. Ace trembled.

"I got a conscience. If you arrest me, you're not going anywhere near them to turn me in. Keep me with you to go, and you risk me getting loose in the confusion. I'm still looking for my guy. Told you before that I'd let you arrest me if you let me find him first. I'm still—" He shuddered, brows furrowed as the stone tip traced from one side of his neck to the other, shifting with a deep breath from Smoker. "I'm still good for it."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Call your people, check my info. I'll even wait here like a good boy 'til you can vette it all."

Hesitance, "...and the bottle?"

Ace chuckled weakly, "Told you I came with gifts. S'a peace offering." Dark liquid sloshed inside as Ace rolled it side to side in his hand.

"And how do I know it's not poison?" When Smoker reached into his jacket to retrieve a little transponder snail, the jitte lowered and Ace let out a heavy breath. Smoker was calling his bluff.

"Hell, I thought you'd never ask." Sitting back on his heels, Ace uncapped it with a twist and took a lengthy swig, swallowing with an enthused smack of his lips. "Definitely not poison." He sternly considered stealing a second pass, but it was supposed to be a gift so for the moment, Ace thought better of it. "Though does it make sense to poison a man I want info from?"

In the end, the details were all correct. The little island sat a ways out, destitute enough for the eyes of the government to pass over, but not lacking enough to spare them from the eyes of the underworld. Ace sat quietly, occasionally scowling as Smoker snapped at him not to touch things in between calls. Or, that was all Smoker remembered before things got hazy.

Looking back, he remembered the liquor, remembered heat, remembered hot breath in his ear—hearing his rank over and over, plead like an endearment… He did not remember Ace leaving or how the night rolled into morning, leaving the ghostly sensation of skin beneath his hands and the stale taste of booze in his mouth.

In the end, the ship turned in time to make the deadline Ace described. Lives were saved. Smoker couldn't find a way to make heads or tails of it without doubling down on old lines.