#bepos indicators of being in a mood are small things like holding his nose against law's neck a little too long smelling him.

[baby-xemnas]

everyone who said "i wanna write them" be stunning and brave and actually do it

(but u have to want it yourself, forced work is unlikely to be good)

one day my preferred positions for them will be written by somebody with this much care and love....i have to believe

[tsarisfanfiction]

Precious (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: Minor injury Characters: Law, Penguin, Shachi  

"Captain!" Law looked up from his book at the call to see Clione skid to a halt outside the door. "Captain, come quick!"

"What is it?" he asked, quickly marking his place and setting it down on the desk as he stood up. Clione seemed fairly panicked, which meant that something had probably gone wrong. Probably – he could never quite tell with some of his crew sometimes.

"Shachi's in the infirmary," the shorter man told him, panting lightly. "We think it's just concussion." Law sighed, lengthening his strides and heading down the corridor.

"What did he do?" he inquired. Knowing Shachi, likely something stupid.

"There was a water spill in the corridor by the engine room," Clione winced. "Ikkaku went to get a mop but Shachi was in a hurry and-"

"Ignored common sense and slipped up?" Law predicted. Clione nodded. "Is the spill dealt with?"

"Ikkaku's mopping it up," Clione assured him. "Penguin was nearby and carried Shachi to the infirmary, and Uni's warning everyone else." Satisfied, Law quickened his pace again, leaving Clione to trail behind as he reached the infirmary and opened the door to see Shachi slumped on a bed with Penguin prodding his arm harshly. A metal basin in Shachi's lap told Law all he needed to know about his nausea levels.

Perching on the side of the bed, Law placed a hand gently on the top of Shachi's head. "This is why there is a no running in the corridor rule," he scolded. Shachi made a noise that could have been agreement, protest, or entirely unrelated.

Frowning, Law ran his hand lightly over the back of Shachi's head, searching for any physical signs of injury. Ginger hair slipped through his fingers as he did so.

"Mama," Shachi mumbled suddenly, a split second before Law found a small lump. Nothing overly serious, to his relief. Shifting hair aside to take a closer look, he was startled when Shachi repeated the call, this time moving his head further into Law's touch.

"Shachi?" he asked, leaning forwards so he was in the ginger's line of sight. Shachi blinked at him.

"Ow," he said, before grinning. "Oh, Law. What's up?"

"You have a concussion," Law told him bluntly, pleased at his return to coherency. He shoved the Mamas to the back of his mind to be hopefully forgotten about.

"Whoops," Shachi giggled, and Law mentally revised his assessment about a return to coherency. He grimaced in sympathy as the older man doubled over and retched into the bowl. Penguin sighed and rubbed at his back gently.

"You know the drill," Law said, retracting his hand from the ginger strands holding it hostage and shuffling Shachi around until he was less slumped over and more lounging against the head of the bed. "Rest, but don't go to sleep."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Shachi mumbled and Law eyed him suspiciously before creating a Room and summoning his book from his bedroom into his hand, fully intending on continuing from where he'd left off. While the Room was up, he double-checked Shachi's condition, pleased to confirm that the damage was, as he'd surmised, minor. With luck, Shachi would be properly coherent within an hour or so, and he told Penguin so. The older man looked relieved, but also a little pensive. Law got the feeling he was better off not knowing what about and buried his nose in the book as Penguin took over questioning Shachi to determine the exact state of his mental recall.

"It's all cleared up, Captain," Ikkaku reported, walking into the room as Shachi stumbled over the date. Law looked up from his book at her. "How is he?"

"Minor concussion," he replied. "Minor concussion and a loss of coherency, but it shouldn't take too long to pass."

"I'm glad," she said. "Is there anything you need, Captain, Penguin?" Law shook his head to answer for both of them – Penguin preoccupied with Shachi still – and watched her leave the room before turning his attention back to the book, content to leave dealing directly with Shachi to Penguin for the time being.

Hours later, with Shachi finally capable of answering all of the questions correctly without having to think about it and the metal bowl no longer required, Law and Penguin left him under the careful eye of Uni to search out some nourishment for themselves at their nakama's prodding.

Coffee was probably not what Shachi had had in mind when he'd pointed out that Law needed to eat, but that didn't stop him from gravitating towards the coffee maker and pouring himself a nice mugful to enjoy.

A plate ladened with onigiri presented itself in front of him.

"What's bothering you?" Penguin asked, hand not holding onto the plate sat firmly on one hip. It was a clear message that he was staging some sort of intervention, but Law wasn't entirely certain what he'd done to warrant one this time. Hoping that Penguin would deign to explain himself further, he picked up one of the rice balls and began to chew slowly.

Penguin sighed, picked up one of the rice balls for himself and shoved it in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it whole.

"Come on," he muttered, taking hold of Law's elbow and purposefully steering him into the room he shared with Shachi, gesturing for Law to sit on the lower bunk before grabbing the desk chair and straddling it backwards, facing Law. "Spill."

Law took a large gulp of coffee instead, unsure what exactly Penguin wanted him to talk about and feeling decidedly not in the mood for a heart to heart – not that he ever was. Unfortunately, for someone with zero aptitude for observation haki, Penguin could be annoyingly perceptive at times and dove straight for the heart of the matter, which Law himself had managed to lock away in the recesses of his mind and ignore. Clearly not well enough, if Penguin was picking up on it.

"Is it about Shachi muttering for nee-san?" the older man said, not particularly posing it as a question, but more as a statement of fact. Law didn't do him the discourtesy of pretending he didn't hear, but he also gave no indication that he was correct – even though it was. While it was true that Shachi had been concussed and therefore confused, he'd never lapsed far enough back to call for his long-dead mother before. Nor, more confusingly for Law, did that explain why he had attempted to nuzzle into his touch.

A disconcerting thought struck him and he pushed it away viciously, only for it to come straight back. If he'd been trampling all over something sacred to Shachi all these years, the ginger would surely have told him… right? Against his will his gaze fell to his fingers – fingers that braided Shachi's hair for the familiar comfort of home. Fingers that had been in Shachi's hair when Mama had slipped out.

Penguin let out a heavy sigh and leaned forwards, poking Law in the forehead not too dissimilarly to how he'd prodded at Shachi earlier.

"Nee-san always used to do his hair," he said calmly, too calmly for Law's tastes, considering he'd just confirmed the unwelcome thought that having his hair done had meant far more to Shachi than he'd ever realised. He'd known that it had meant something, from the years of insistence that anyone except him cut his hair, but if it had been a particularly important connection to his mother… And here Law had been, casually braiding his hair on occasion without even asking.

All of a sudden, he felt sick. Penguin seemed to pick up on his change in countenance, gaining a concerned air.

"You didn't know?" he asked, sounding slightly worried.

"No," Law said, speaking out loud for the first time since being dragged into the room. "He never said."

"I thought he would have," Penguin mused, settling back on his perch of a backwards chair. "So what stupid things are running through your head now?"

Law got the impression that Penguin wasn't taking the revelation anywhere near as seriously as he was and found himself confused by it. Of the two of them, Penguin certainly knew Shachi better, and was also well aware of Law's penchant for braiding Shachi's hair on occasion.

Finding nothing willing to pass his lips, he relapsed back into silence, nursing an almost-cold mug of half-drunk coffee and waiting for Penguin to carry the conversation further, or end it and leave to return to Shachi's side; whichever appealed to him.

"You know Shachi likes it when you do his hair, don't you?" the older man said after several moments, apparently realising both that Law had nothing to say, and what exactly was bothering him. There were times when Law found the way Penguin (and Shachi and Bepo) could read him almost effortlessly frustrating. He hadn't decided if this was one of those times yet.

"Does he?" Law challenged. While Shachi usually had no issues making his opinions clear, there were times where Law heavily suspected he was simply enduring things to help his nakama feel better. Alongside Penguin and Bepo, Shachi was the only one to know why Law occasionally got an itch to braid hair, and it would be just like the ginger to let it happen just so he could feel better.

"Yes, he does," Penguin retorted, leaning forwards on the chair. Two legs parted company slightly with the floor and Law flinched forwards, subconsciously preparing to catch him if he overbalanced. "Do you remember, back when you started your little braid attacks? Shachi started sleeping in the reccy with his hat off more often, before he even knew who was doing it."

Law remembered, finding himself bemused at the blatant invitation back then, despite Shachi's grumblings whenever he woke up with braids in his hair.

"That was before the two of you got close enough that he started his self-sacrificing nonsense," Penguin pointed out firmly. "You know, he always wanted to keep getting his hair braided after they died, but Noona was always too busy, and her fingers never stopped shaking after then, so she couldn't do it. And, well, you know Shachi. He'd never ask outright for something like that."

Law thought back to the mess Shachi once let his hair get to, before he and Penguin had staged an intervention on it, and had no choice but to begrudgingly agree.

"Talk to him about it," Penguin advised, standing back up and collecting the empty plate. Before Law could formulate a response, protest or otherwise, the older man was gone.