#featuring me thinking *way* more about post-marineford logistics than i think oda ever wanted anyone to

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

@bitch-be-nimble well, not at the time. (the whole motivation behind this notfic with buggy in disguise was to see if i could write a post-roguetown encounter without making shanks lie when he tells whitebeard he hasn’t seen buggy since roguetown.) but it’s funny you should ask!

this got stupid long. okay, you know what? i’m just gonna post this first chunk of the story, it ends on a fun note and i won’t feel like i need to rush the rest if i’ve shared this much with y’all.

a little over a decade later, as the red force prepared to leave marineford:

it was buggy’s fault. undeniably. if he could’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut—but of course he couldn’t! not after the way shanks just treated him, pulling on his strings like a goddamn puppet master, like he still knew buggy after all these years. not when buggy knew for a fact that shanks wouldn’t recognize him without his nose acting as a big red flag.

(of course he hadn’t forgotten about that day. he never spoke of it, but it was on his mental tally of ways shanks had screwed him over. spooked him into eating the chop-chop fruit, constantly stole his thunder, beat him at cards (by cheating! by cheating at cards better than buggy!), ruined his plans for the future, kissed him one time in a back alley in east blue—and without even asking first!)

and this was the first time he’d been near shanks since that day, so of course it was on his mind. shanks hadn’t changed much since then, except that oh wait, he’d lost a fucking arm somehow! and nobody seemed to be able to agree on how.

buggy couldn’t bear to ask for the story.

he had to know.

he could not ask.

“looking at you, i can’t tell which of the rumors is true,” buggy said. (not asked!) shanks was sitting on a barrel, watching other members of his crew do real work, so buggy figured it was safe to bother him. he glanced up at buggy. “did you go after whitebeard and get punished for it like that crocodile guy, or did you try and see if your armament haki was stronger than a sea king’s teeth?”

shanks huffed out a little laugh. “are those the only rumors these days?”

“the only ones i considered remotely plausible.”

“well, the second one’s not far off,” shanks said.

buggy stared. that couldn’t be the whole story. not for him.

shanks sighed. “look, buggy, i’m sorry, but i don’t have time for this right now. unless you know my ship better than me, and can figure out where we’re going to place a twenty-two foot long corpse—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “any other day, i would love to sit down with you and catch up. just not today.”

right. buggy flushed. shanks was an emperor. even though he was the youngest and weakest of them, that still required a certain something. leadership. responsibility. just because he still looked like the shanks buggy knew, slacking off, doing as he liked, didn’t actually make him so.

“buggy,” shanks snapped.

“does he have to be lying down?” buggy blurted out. shanks blinked up at him, surprised to hear him try to be helpful. “i mean, i know how normal bodies work, death stiffness wears off eventually, but this is whitebeard. if anyone could stay standing the whole of his death, it’s that guy.”

shanks frowned. “i did consider that, briefly. but if we’re wrong, having to clear that much space in the time it takes him to fall over…”

buggy cringed. “right, that’d be way worse.” he thought about alternatives. this boat of shanks’ was nice, but it did not have that kind of room to spare, not if he was taking shipless pirates aboard (which, of course he was; this was shanks). “what about one of the whitebeard fleet ships? are any of them stable enough to carry him? they’re his crews, i bet they’d be honored to be his last ride.”

shanks nodded. “there are a few still seaworthy.” running his hand through his hair, he muttered, “but like hell i’m getting involved with the intracrew politics there. i’ll ask marco, he’ll know which one to pick to step on the fewest toes.” getting to his feet, shanks visibly swayed for a moment.

“whoa, are you—?”

“i’m—fine,” shanks said, pinching at his brow. he glanced at buggy, who had foolishly reached out to, what, steady him? offer an arm to lean on?? he didn’t know what he’d been thinking. shanks sighed. “it’s not as fun as we’d thought it’d be when we were kids, is it? being the ones in charge.”

“oh, i don’t know,” buggy said, thinking back to that moment, fresh out of impel down, when anything seemed possible with all those guys at his back, cheering him on. “it has its moments.”

shanks considered him for a moment. he smiled. “i guess it does. thanks for the suggestions, buggy. go find a spot to lie down, would you? you look like you could use some beauty sleep.”

and buggy knew he shouldn’t say it. even in the moment he knew it was stupid. but he could never leave well enough alone when shanks took a cheap shot at him, and that day had been on his mind. so he said, “gee, and here i thought i was gorgeous.” and because he really couldn’t help himself, it seemed, when shanks gave him a blank look, he fluttered his eyelashes and added, “with stunning eyes.”

shanks stared.

in the time it took for buggy to blink, he was shoved into the closest wall. he’d tear shanks a new one for halfheartedly trying to give him a concussion, but the hand that’d pressed him shoulder-first into the wall was drifting up, up his neck, cupping his cheek, and buggy found himself as lost for words this time as last.

shanks leaned in. just as he got too close for propriety, he sucked in a breath. he whispered, “that was you?”

buggy gave him a look that said obviously. that said how else would i know about it? that said why? does it matter?

did it matter? he stared up at shanks, and, far from the first time, had no idea what he was thinking.

shanks took a step back and laughed, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “oh god,” he said under his breath, “i really don’t have time for this right now.” eyes shutting, he sighed, and to buggy it looked like he’d aged ten years in an instant. someone out of sight called for their ‘boss,’ and the exhaustion, the previous, unreadable emotion, it all fell away. here was red-haired shanks the emperor, for the first time since he’d cowed the marines into allowing the whitebeard pirates their dead. he stalked off, calling out, “get some sleep, buggy,” over one shoulder, cool as anything.

buggy, feeling distinctly uncool and like he’d never sleep again, scurried away in search of a private corner he could panic in. he found a deck a level or two up that was deserted for the moment—crew quarters, maybe?—and huddled by the railing. had anyone seen that? stupid, stupid—

“did you see that?” someone a deck below said excitedly to their companions. “captain buggy got that emperor mad enough to shove him into a wall, and then without a word forced him to retreat! he’s truly amazing!”

buggy buried his face in his hands and groaned. so stupid.

“hey, quick question,” said someone at buggy’s elbow some time later. “are you trying to get us all killed?” it was mr. 3—er, galdino, or whatever his name was, looking very fearful and annoyed and sweaty. or maybe that was the wax? buggy didn’t know much about him, or how his powers worked.

“how’s that?”

“word among the men,” this was how galdino had been referring to the prisoners who’d followed the two of them out of impel down lately, ‘the men,’ like they were buggy’s soldiers or something, “is that red-haired shanks kabedon'd you, and you turned him down. you realize he’s our only possible ride out of here at this point, right? why antagonize him like that?”

buggy’s face screwed up. like he needed to be reminded of the distance between him and shanks. but also: “the hell’s that word mean?”

“kabedon? it’s when someone shoves you into a wall to intimidate and flirt with you.”

“flirt with—” buggy sputtered, face hot. oh shit, was that really what they were saying? “god no, no way! shanks would never—”

“i’m just reporting what i’ve heard,” galdino said, shoving his glasses up his nose. “oh, no one’s made the flirtatious connection but me, but they all say the two of you got up close and personal, and red-hair’s been red-faced ever since. i just put two and two together.”

“it wasn’t like that,” said buggy, who couldn’t have told galdino what it was like, since he still had no idea himself.

“no?” galdino joined buggy at the railing. they had a good view of the main deck from up here, including a cluster of men having a serious-looking discussion. since the group included shanks and marco the phoenix, it was probably about whitebeard and ace, and where they were taking them and how to do it. shanks looked tired, but it wasn’t obvious like it had been when it was just the two of them. there was something on his face that buggy recognized from the day the news about roger’s arrest broke. a quiet, sad kind of tired.

feeling eyes on him, shanks glanced up. their eyes met for a moment, maybe two. then shanks turned away, face slightly, undeniably redder, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

galdino leaned in close to buggy’s ear. “you sure about that, buggy?”

blushing bright enough to rival his nose, buggy stomped off, steaming, muttering curses against smart-mouthed wax men under his breath.

but no, he wasn’t sure at all.