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anubislover · 5 years ago

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Not So Easily Replaced

(Ikkaku is pissed at how idiotic her crew has been while on Amazon Lily, so she does what she's always done - vents about it to Law to let off some steam. Unfortunately, when an argument breaks out between them, she's left to wonder if she's really appreciated by her nakama)

“Ugh!” Ikkaku growled, stomping into Law’s office with his second afternoon coffee and a selection of onigiri on a tray. Normally lunch delivery wasn’t her job, but since all the men had been “too busy” fawning over the women of Amazon Lily outside, the menial task had fallen to her; otherwise their workaholic captain wouldn’t eat. “I swear, Boss, if we don’t set sail soon, I’m going to strangle every guy on board!”

“Hmmm,” Law grunted absently as he poured over his notes. Ikkaku didn’t hold his monosyllabic response against him—he’d spent the past few days fixing up that Straw Hat kid and the Fishman. On top of that, the extensive treatments had basically depleted their medical supplies, Straw Hat’s freak-out upon waking up had wrecked more than half the operatory, and the Kuja had been pretty stingy with letting them replenish their food and water from the island, so she was sure he had plenty on his mind. The dark bags under his eyes attested to that.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to vent, though. Honestly, if she didn’t, she’d probably snap and end up going on a killing spree or something. Only Bepo and Law would be spared; the Mink had no interest in human women and thus hadn’t been an obnoxious Neanderthal, and Law had been too focused on keeping his patients and crew alive to drool over Boa Hancock.

Hell, when her captain was like this, Ikkaku could literally say anything and he wouldn’t even register it. It took a lot to snap Law out of his thoughts, and he’d never really seemed to mind when she ranted at him to let off steam. Mainly because once she was done, she was usually calm enough to take care of the situation herself, leaving Law in peace and with a non-murdered crew. A happy engineer made for a happy submarine, after all.

Setting the coffee and onigiri down onto the desk, Ikkaku continued, “They act like they’ve never seen a hot chick in their lives. I mean, what am I, chopped liver? They should be thanking the gods that they get to look at my gorgeous face every damn day!” The statement was accompanied by a dramatic toss of her curly hair. When Ikkaku felt strongly about something, she tended to gesticulate a lot, and this was no exception.

“Uh huh.”

She leaned against the edge of Law’s desk, hands waving about as she ranted. “Not that I want them to start lusting after me, but it hurts a girl’s pride, ya know? They could at least acknowledge what a hot piece of ass I am instead of acting like I’m some ugly hag.” She clenched her fist as she recalled how, just that morning, Shachi and Clione had basically given a lecture to the whole crew over breakfast about the superior physique the Kuja displayed compared to the average woman. There had been charts and everything, and to her dismay the silhouette for the “average” woman looked suspiciously like her.

“And that’s not the end of it!” she rambled on, smacking her hand against the desk for emphasis. “When I’m not ignored or insulted, they try to convince me to go out into the jungle to talk to the Kuja for them! I mean, I’m probably the one least likely to be killed outright, but it’s not guaranteed! They might fill me with arrows just for being affiliated with men! Are they really willing to risk my life like that?”

Her question didn’t get an answer—not because Law wasn’t paying attention, but because at that moment, her emotive gesticulating accidentally smacked her wrist into his coffee mug, knocking it over.

“Mother fucker!” Law shouted, scalding coffee spilling all over his crotch and papers.

“Oh my god, Law, I’m so sorry—”

“Will you shut up?!” he snapped, grabbing his nearby lab coat to frantically soak up the scalding coffee that had spilled across his crotch. “Don’t just stand there—get some towels!”

Nodding mutely, she ran to the en-suite bathroom and snatched up every towel she could find in the cupboard. “Here,” she said, trying to hand them to him so he could clean himself up.

“My desk, damn it! Save my notes!”

Immediately she swept the pile furthest from the spill to the floor and began patting down the desk, but she knew it was already too late; the coffee had completely soaked through several of the papers that had been strewn across the stainless steel surface.

“Law, really, I’m so sorry!” she apologized hoarsely, flinching as he turned the full force of his sleep-deprived glare upon her.

“Maybe if you’d fucking been watching what you were doing instead of ranting on and on, none of this would have happened!” he shouted, well and truly pissed. Not that she blamed him—a week’s worth of important medical and inventory notes was now a brown, sopping mess. On top of that, first-degree crotch burns would sour anyone’s mood, especially when they were only running on an average of three hours of sleep.

“It’ll be ok,” she assured, assessing the damage. To an average person, the mess was a disaster, but while the charts and notes that had been in the immediate spill zone were soaked through and ruined, many of the others could be salvaged thanks to Law’s powers. “Just Room the coffee out of the papers—”

“Do you have any idea how much time and effort you just flushed down the toilet?” he snapped, even as the familiar blue bubble filled the office. Drops of coffee were pulled from the sheets of paper like magic, but to Ikkaku’s dismay, much of the ink left behind was still smudged beyond recognition. “You’re lucky that wasn’t Mugiwara-ya’s medical file you just destroyed!”

“Law, really, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm him down. Her usually chill captain was far more volatile when stressed and sleep-deprived. “It was a stupid accident on my part. I’ll help you rewrite all of this.”

“Hell no,” he growled, gold eyes narrowing furiously, the tendons in his thin neck tightening as he ground his teeth together. “The last thing I need is you going on another stupid rant and ruining my notes again. Get the fuck out—I’ve got more important things to do than listen to you bitch and moan about how the guys aren’t paying attention to you.”

“Tha—that’s not what I’m angry about at all!” she snapped.

“Then what is your fucking problem?!”

“My problem is that the guys were being jackasses and I’m not appreciated around here!”

“Well if you don’t like it, leave!”

Ikkaku’s back stiffened, each syllable cutting into her heart like Law’s sharpest scalpel. Those words…it was the exact same thing her old boss would say whenever she complained about her asshole coworkers’ creepy leers or “accidental” groping. The greasy old mechanic was a sexist pig, but still the only one in that shit port that had been willing to take her on as an apprentice. It had always been an unspoken threat—if she left, no one else would hire her, so she could kiss her dreams of becoming a world-class engineer good-bye.

Trafalgar Law had changed that with his offer to join the Heart Pirates.

And now he was telling her to leave, too. To give up her dream, her nakama, and her home because she wasn’t willing to put up with a little sexism.

As if he could replace her in a heartbeat.

The thought hurt more than expected. She’d worked her ass off aboard the Polar Tang. For five years she’d toiled in the heart of the engine room, maintaining every little piece. She kept the gears turning, the motors humming, and the propellers running. Just from sound and the slightest vibrations through the ship, she knew exactly what was wrong with the engine at any given time.

Ikkaku had never asked for praise or recognition for her hard work—it was just her job. But she was as knowledgeable about the mechanisms of the submarine as Law was of the human body. She had always assumed he’d quietly acknowledged this fact and respected her for it.

Clearly, she’d been wrong.

She nearly screamed all this at him, but before she could open her mouth, the blue light of Law’s Room encased her, and in a blink, she was out in the hall, the cabin door slamming shut in her face.

Knowing better than to try and force her way back into his quarters, Ikkaku instead stormed down the steel hallway, fists clenched and muttering furiously to herself. Maybe she would leave. March right up to Boa Hancock and ask to join the Kuja. That would show them! She didn’t need Law, or the Tang, or men at all! She’d get along just fine without those jerks! Sure, Amazon Lily didn’t have any of the high-tech machinery she was used to, and working for a shichibukai wasn’t exactly something she was thrilled about, but at least they’d appreciate her, right? She had other skills—she was a hell of a tattoo artist, and was a damn fine shot, and could kickbox, and…

Her pace slowed as her heart forced her brain to accept the truth—she didn’t want to leave. She’d go crazy without machines and engines to work on. And sure, she was no slouch in a fight, but the Kuja were warrior women trained from birth. Ikkaku would look like a total weakling next to them.

And no matter how much the crew pissed her off, she wouldn’t trade her nakama for anything. Sure, they could be thoughtless jerks sometimes, but they could also be really sweet. Bepo may not have been much for girl talk, but he was always willing to lend an ear if she needed companionship. Her fellow engineers, Malamute and Skua, were dependable and shared her love of machines. Shachi was always down to help her pull a prank, and when he wasn’t drooling over the Kuja, Penguin could be counted on to talk her through her problems.

As for Law…by this point, he was more like her big brother than her actual brothers had been. They shared a similar devious sense of humor, was discreet about any feminine issues she might have that, as the ship’s doctor, he was forced to deal with, and he’d even played wingman for her a few times at the taverns they’d stopped in.

Had she just ruined all of that? Was Law just angry, or had this been coming for a long time? Law had threatened to fire her plenty of times in the past, usually in response to her back sassing him, but he’d never been serious about it. This time had been different—he’d been legitimately pissed at her. Maybe those teasing threats hadn’t been jokes, but subtle warnings, and her ruining all those papers had simply been the straw to break the camel’s back?

Ikkaku was deep in thought, mentally going over every encounter she’d had with Law with a fine-toothed comb, searching for any clue whether he seriously thought she should leave, when she quite literally bumped into Bepo.

The Mink took in her flushed, angry expression and asked, “Are you ok, Ikkaku?”

Oddly enough, it was that simple, gentle question that shattered her composure like a bullet through a bone, and without even thinking she buried her face in his soft fur and just broke down crying. “He told me to leave, Bepo,” she sobbed, scared and hurt and frustrated. For all the grief her crewmates had given her and all the dangerous positions being a pirate had put her in, Ikkaku loved being a Heart. Where would she go? She’d never find another ship like the Polar Tang. Another crew like the Heart Pirates. Another captain like Trafalgar Law.

Bepo, though shocked that the normally fiery and confident engineer was using his fur as a tissue, didn’t say anything—he just carefully rubbed her back and hoped that letting her treat him like a massive teddy bear would calm her down enough to explain what had happened.

XXX

“Ok, real talk—has anyone noticed anything…different about Ikkaku lately?” Penguin asked as he sat down to lunch.

“You’d have to actually see her to notice something,” Shachi replied, brow furrowing. He glanced over at Uni, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses. “You been giving her stealth lessons or something?”

Uni frowned behind his bandana. “No, but she’s definitely avoiding us. It’s been a week since we left Amazon Lily, and I can count the number of times I’ve seen her on one hand.”

“Same,” Ermine said as they finished molding Law’s onigiri into the perfect triangles the captain liked. “I actually thought we left her behind for a minute—nearly asked Jean Bart to turn the ship around to get her.”

Malamute rubbed his chin, mouth twisting in concern. “Nah, she’s here, but she’s mad at us about something—barely leaves the engine room most days, and she basically refuses to talk to me and Skua.”

His fellow engineer nodded. “We thought it might just be her time of the month, but that ended over a week ago according to the calendar.”

“You guys keep track of her menstrual cycles?” Clione asked, weirded out. The rest of the crew wore similar expressions of disbelief and disapproval.

“Out of self-preservation!” Skua shouted defensively. “We’re in a hot, confined space where she has easy access to heavy tools—of course we wanna know when we should have emergency placating chocolate on-hand!”

“We tried the chocolate anyway, though,” Malamute added. “She just…waved it away and kept working.”

The cook’s frown deepened at that bit of information. “Ikkaku never turns down chocolate,” Ermine said, “and she hasn’t shown up to lunch, dinner, or breakfast all week.”

“She’s been eating, though, right?” Penguin asked, concerned. He didn’t care how mad she was; it was no excuse to skip out on meals. It was bad enough Law was an insomniac that got most of his nutrients through coffee and onigiri. It would be a cold day in hell before he would stand for an anorexic engineer.

A large, white paw shyly raised in the air as Bepo interjected, “I’ve been bringing her meals so she doesn’t have to come by the galley. She’s…wanted some time to herself.” He dropped his head gloomily. “Sorry.”

“But she’s talked to you?”

“Ummm, a little bit,” he muttered, twiddling his claws. After she’d stopped crying, Ikkaku had spilled her guts about everything—her issues with the crew, her argument with Law, and why his words had affected her so badly. Though sympathetic, Bepo was certain Law hadn’t meant his thoughtless words—underneath his casual persona, he cared deeply about his crew and would never let any of them go for such a silly reason.

At first, Bepo’d tried to get her to go back and talk to the captain, but she’d shot that down quickly—with the mood Law had been in, it would do nothing but start another argument. The Mink had hoped that, now that they were sailing away from Amazon Lily and Law wouldn’t have to worry about Straw Hat’s injuries anymore, they’d both cool down and the whole thing would blow over.

Unfortunately, the past week had proven otherwise. Ikkaku had taken to hiding deep in the bowels of the ship, and Law had been so focused on redoing all those notes and charts that he hadn’t left his quarters in days. Bepo wasn’t a Mink who liked confrontation, and he certainly didn’t want to choose sides between his oldest friend and his favorite engineer, so he’d relegated himself to supplying food to both parties, hoping one of them would finally get tired of the oppressive silence and breach the topic.

As the crew frantically gathered around him, hoping to finally have an answer to the Mystery of the Missing Engineer, Bepo began to wonder if he should have just locked both humans in an empty room and made them talk it out.

Not that such a plan would have been very effective with Law’s powers, but it was better than nothing.

“Talk, Bepo,” Shachi growled, pulling a flashlight out of his pocket and shining it directly into the bear’s black eyes like he was in an interrogation room. “What’s up with Ikkaku?”

“Why’s she hiding from us?” Clione interjected.

“Why are you the only one she’s talking to?” added Jude.

“Is she pregnant and going through weird mood swings or something?” Skua asked loudly.

Bepo blanched at that last one. “No, she…she’s just kind of upset about…how you all acted on Amazon Lily.”

Exasperated, Ermine rolled their eyes. “What, was she jealous about all the attention we gave Hancock’s crew?”

“No, but…you guys were really insensitive. Like, that presentation—”

“It was a joke!” Shachi defended, though a guilty blush rose to his cheeks.

“And asking her to venture into the jungle to talk to the women for you—”

“Hey, she was the only one who they wouldn’t kill on-sight!” Jude sulked.

“And then she had to bring Law his lunch because you were all too busy staring at the Kuja.”

“Wow. Having to do that one menial task must have been such an inconvenience,” Malamute scoffed.

At the back of the grumbling crowd, Jean Bart awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. He hadn’t been on the crew long, so he didn’t really think it was his place to get involved, but he had the feeling Ikkaku had taken whatever had been said and done a little more personally than they thought. “Look, regardless of how we feel, we should all apologize to her. I mean, I don’t know her great, but does she usually give the silent treatment for this long?”

“Well, no,” Clione stated, looking a bit nervous. “Typically, she yells at us and smacks us around a bit, or maybe pulls some embarrassing prank, but she’s never quiet.”

“So, what’s this mean?”

“It means this is serious.” Penguin frowned at Bepo, who was looking around anxiously as if hoping to escape. “Ok, spill. You’re the only one she’s talked to, and you clearly have a better idea of what’s going on than we do. What’s Ikkaku really upset about?”

The Mink hung his head sorrowfully. “Sorry.”

“Damn it, don’t apologize! Just tell us!”

“It’s just…”

“Are you guys bullying Bepo again?” came a voice from the doorway. The crew turned to find Law strolling into the galley, looking thinner and more exhausted than usual, but he was at least out of his room and among the living.

Still shining his flashlight in Bepo’s face, Shachi yelled, “Captain! You gotta help us—Ikkaku’s basically been AWOL all week and won’t talk to anyone, and Bepo won’t tell us why!”

Law plopped into his chair and grabbed an onigiri, scoffing as he took a large bite. “She bitched at me for a while about how you all were being sexist pigs. Figured she would have gotten over it by now.”

“She complained to you about it?” Jean Bart asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, and then she managed to spill hot coffee on my crotch and ruin the inventory list for the infirmary that I’d spent hours compiling.”

The crew unanimously gave a sympathy wince.

Taking another large bite of his lunch, Law continued, “We’ll be making port in a few days—she’ll come to her senses once she’s spent some time off the ship.”

“You…you want her to leave the ship?” Bepo asked, voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Time apart will do us some good,” he replied with a shrug, activating his Room for a moment to remove the flashlight from Shachi’s hand.

“How…how much time?”

“Well, we’re not making port any longer than necessary. If she hasn’t gotten her shit together by then, that’s her problem.”

Bepo’s heart dropped into his stomach. What did Law mean “get her shit together”? Was he talking about packing her things? Was he really kicking her out over a silly argument over spilled coffee and ruined paperwork?

“Law!” the Mink shouted, jerking to his feet so quickly his knees knocked the table. “Please reconsider!”

Dark blue eyebrows rose at the normally soft-spoken navigator’s outburst. “There’s nothing to reconsider. Ikkaku’s a big girl—I agree that the sexism she faced was unacceptable, but she’s never had a problem handling that kind of shit herself.” His face twisted into a scowl. “And considering how I only just finished redoing all the work she destroyed, my tolerance for temper tantrums is at an all-time low.”

“She offered to help you rewrite it!” Bepo argued, slapping his paws down on the table. “Is some soggy paperwork worth losing your best engineer over?” Pausing, he glanced at Malamute and Skua. “Uh, no offense. Sorry.”

“None taken,” the duo said in unison, though their jaws dropped a second later as they registered the Mink’s words. “Wait, what?!”

“What do you mean ‘losing’ Ikkaku?” Penguin snapped, grabbing him by the orange collar of his boiler suit.

Shachi grabbed the flashlight again and climbed onto the table to shine it into Bepo’s face. “Talk, bear! Is Ikkaku quitting or something?”

“Because we won’t let her!” several of the crew shouted.

“Everybody calm down!” Law snapped, his deep voice silencing the rambunctious crew. “You all acted like idiots around the Kuja—I don’t blame her for being annoyed at you. But if your petty acts of sexism could drive her off that easily, she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes at her old job. You’re blowing everything out of proportion.”

“You’re the one who told her to leave over a spilled cup of coffee!” Bepo angrily stated, only to immediately shrink back when he realized just who he’d yelled at. “Sorry.”

“Whoa, wait, Law, did you fire her?” Penguin asked, genuinely horrified as he numbly released Bepo’s collar. Of all the things that could have been bothering Ikkaku, that hadn’t even made his list. Sure, she could be tempestuous, but that had never bothered Law before—on the contrary, Penguin had always assumed his old friend liked trading snarky barbs with.

“I didn’t—why would I—I was just pissed because she spilled hot coffee all over crotch!” Law defended, even as he inwardly cringed at the way his entire crew had turned to glare at him judgmentally. Shachi had even turned the flashlight’s intense beam on him.

“But was that worth actually firing her over?”

“I didn’t fire her! Yeah, we argued, but I never said she was fired. At most, I told her to get the fuck out of my office.”

“That’s not all you said,” Bepo mumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Flinty gold eyes narrowed at the sulking Mink. It was extremely out of character for Bepo to snap at or sass anyone—least of all Law. His brow furrowed as he thought back to his fight with Ikkaku—the memory was a bit hazy due to the lack of sleep he’d gotten. “Then what exactly did I say to her? What could have possibly been so bad that it could make her think I’m firing her?”

“You said…she told me…” Bepo took a deep breath. He hated scolding his captain, but he hated the idea of Ikkaku leaving even more, especially if this really was just a big misunderstanding. “You said to her ‘if you don’t like it, leave’.”

A sour taste worse than umeboshi filled his mouth as Law realized the full implications of what he’d said and done. He clearly remembered her old boss, a scowling, greasy man who’d shouted at her when she’d argued that she deserved to be respected as the talented engineer she was and not just seen as eye-candy.

If you don’t like it, leave, he’d sneered through crooked teeth as the other mechanics sniggered. Good luck finding anyone else willing to hire an inexperienced chick, though. Law could distinctly remember the hot surge of outrage he’d felt on the woman’s behalf; in less than ten minutes, she’d managed to identify what was wrong with the Tang’s engine and exactly how to fix it. Yet because she was the sole female in the shop—because she was a little bit different—she was overlooked and scorned, with her boss refusing to check for himself.

It had reminded Law a little too much of how quickly he’d been rejected from every hospital Cora-san had taken him to, the so-called “expert” doctors refusing to believe that Amber Lead was not contagious, or even examine the white patches across his skin.

And maybe—just maybe—the way her curly hair fanned out around her shoulders and down her back reminded him just a tiny bit of a certain black, feathered jacket.

Law hadn’t even bothered to consider whether or not the woman might want to become a pirate before he’d activated his Room and cut her boss to pieces. He’d then turned to Ikkaku, whose dark eyes had been wide with shock but not fear, and told her that if she could fix his engine as easily as she claimed, she was welcome to join his crew.

Now he stood to lose her due to his own sleep-deprived stupidity.

“…fuck.”

XXX

Down in the engine room, Ikkaku lay on her back underneath the ship’s engine, tightening the bolts that secured the freshly-cleaned cooling pipes. Since her argument with Law she’d basically spent every waking hour disassembling, repairing, and reassembling every piece she could. She trusted Skua and Malamute to take good care of the sub after she was gone, but the Polar Tang deserved nothing less than a thorough inspection and tune-up as thanks for carrying her so far.

She’d give the crew their own goodbye once they reached port. She hoped they were still too blinded by the hearts in their eyes to notice she’d been avoiding them. It wasn’t out of anger anymore; instead, she was scared she’d start blubbering. Admitting that Law had decided to toss her out on her ass was humiliating and heartbreaking, and she honestly wasn’t sure how the others would react. They could just as easily stage a mutiny as shrug it off as her overreacting.

Perhaps she was freaking out over nothing—Law hadn’t even left his room since their fight. Surely if he really wanted her gone, he could have marooned her back on Amazon Lily. Then again, he was a sadistic bastard; luring her into a false sense of security, then dumping her and her belongings onto the next port they landed on wouldn’t be entirely out of character. Or maybe her years of service had earned her enough mercy that he was willing to wait until they were at an island where Ikkaku could potentially find work instead of stranding her in the Calm Belt.

Whatever it was, she had every intention of confronting him about it after dinner. If this was all just a big misunderstanding, she planned to give him a good smack upside the head. If she was really fired, she wanted at least enough time to pack her things and say her proper goodbyes.

Until then, all she could do was stay busy to pass the time and hope that the knot of anxiety that twisted in her stomach would loosen up by the time she talked to him.

She didn’t want to leave, but if Law decided she was really that expendable, there wasn’t much she could do but try to hold onto at least a shred of dignity.

Reaching over to her tool kit, Ikkaku fished out her screwdriver, silently lamenting over the sad state of her tools. She’d planned on picking up some new ones back on Sabaody, but with all the chaos that had taken place, she’d missed her chance, and she wasn’t sure she could justify the cost now that her job was in jeopardy.

The sharp click clack of heeled boots against the metal floor startled her out of her thoughts. Glancing towards the sound, she immediately knew from the spotted jeans that filled her vision that, for better or for worse, the mystery of her termination was about to be solved.

She watched as Law turned around, and she knew from the barely-audible creek of the pipes that he had chosen to lean against them. Ikkaku had yelled at him for doing that more than a few times in the past, but this time she kept her mouth shut. Most likely he’d done it to provoke such a reaction out of her, but why? To break the viscous tension that filled the room by establishing a sense of normalcy, or so he’d have another cause to fire her?

Whatever his reason, Ikkaku refused to be the first to speak. Whether he wanted to kick her out or extend the olive branch, he’d have to make the first move.

After a few minutes of silence where Law merely stood there and Ikkaku continued to tighten the bolts, he finally sighed. “Penguin tells me that you haven’t been eating dinner with the crew,” Law’s low, nonchalant voice rumbled through the pipes.

If Penguin had to tell you, that says that you haven’t been eating with them, either, she thought sourly, though opted to stay quiet. She didn’t want to turn this into an argument if he intended to apologize. And if he planned to fire her…well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of riling her up.

Noting her unusual silence, he continued, “I understand their behavior has been…upsetting as of late. They were acting like idiots, but that’s no reason to isolate yourself.”

“Haven’t been isolating myself,” she lied, fiddling with a bolt she’d tightened ten minutes ago. “I’ve just had work to do. The Tang needed some maintenance, so I thought I’d get it done now that we weren’t being chased by Marines.”

“Sure. And the fact that Bepo’s been bringing you your meals this past week?”

“Going to the galley would have wasted time. Eating in here was more efficient, and Bepo offered.”

“Why didn’t you ask Skua and Malamute to help?”

“You doubtin’ my abilities as an engineer, Trafalgar?” she asked in a clipped tone, growing sick of tiptoeing around the point. “Whether you like it or not, I know how this ship works better than anyone. If you don’t trust me, tell them to get their asses in here and do it instead!”

There was a deep sigh from above her, and Ikkaku could easily picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows that formed when he was tired and frustrated. “Bepo told me you’re thinking of leaving.”

Ah. The moment of truth. Heart in her throat, she forced her herself to take a deep breath, ready for whatever judgement he saw fit to pass. “You’re the one who said I should if I didn’t like how I was being treated.”

“Are you?”

“Leaving or enjoying how I’m treated?”

“Leaving.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Good.” It was subtle, but there was an unspoken “I wouldn’t have let you if you’d tried” in his tone. There was another long moment of silence before he continued, “Engineers as skilled as you are hard to come by—finding a replacement would have been a bitch. Plus, the crew would have been upset; they were practically interrogating poor Bepo about why you were avoiding them.”

“And of course you stepped in and played hero, rescuing the helpless Mink from an angry mob?” she snipped, tightening another screw. It didn’t sound like she was getting fired, so it was a little easier to let her natural sass creep back into her voice.

Law let out a faint tch above her. “I wouldn’t say ‘helpless’ considering how he then yelled at me about allegedly firing you. After that, the mob was on his side.”

A proud grin curled the corner of Ikkaku’s mouth. Who would have thought that Bepo would yell at his best friend for little old her? She’d have to come up with a nice thank you gift for her favorite shipmate. With luck, Law might actually apologize for his behavior if even Bepo was calling him out.

Of course, that might take a while, so it was best to keep busy. Reaching out her hand, Ikkaku felt around blindly for her socket wrench. She jerked slightly in surprise when she felt long fingers wrap around her hand before the tool in question was placed firmly in her palm. She pulled her arm back, only to stare wordlessly at the brand-new wrench that practically gleamed in the light.

Clumsily she slid out from under the pipes, jaw dropping as she found Law crouching beside a new, expensive, top-of-the-line tool kit. “I was saving this for your birthday but given the chance that you wouldn’t be around to receive it…” he trailed off, adjusting his hat so the brim cast a shadow over his face.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled, immediately recognizing the gift for the chrome apology that it was. Plus, it was hard to stay mad at Law when he was like this—honestly, it was so dang cute how awkward he was when forced to display actual human emotions like caring and guilt. “You bribing me to stay, Boss?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She laughed, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. “Then I accept, along with a twenty-percent bonus on my next paycheck.”

He grumbled slightly but didn’t refuse, nor did he pull away from her embrace, even if he stubbornly refused to return it. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t technically said “sorry”. Actions spoke a hell of a lot louder than words with him, anyway, and Law was practically groveling for her to stay.

When she finally let him go, Law stood up and cleared his throat before nonchalantly strolling towards the door. “Well then, since you’re not leaving, unless the engine room is actively on fire and no one but you can put it out, you’re eating with the crew tonight. They’ll formally apologize for their behavior, and they’re all going out of their way to show you how much you’re appreciated. Ermine’s preparing your favorite meal. Clione and Shachi have put together a presentation detailing exactly how stupid they’ve been while Penguin has one extolling your virtues. Malamute and Skua have volunteered to take on your cleaning duties for the next two weeks.”

“What are you going to do?” Ikkaku teased, though he could have said “nothing” and she’d be fine—she knew he’d never make the mistake of discarding her again.

Law stopped at the door and threw his trademark cocky smirk over his shoulder. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll be standing by your side all night to make sure you can’t run off when you realize just how obnoxiously sentimental those idiots can be.”

Ikkaku’s grin fell a bit as she realized he was right—the Hearts were an infamous band of pirates led by a fiendishly dangerous captain, but when it came to their nakama, they could get downright sappy in extreme circumstances. Jude was probably preparing some hippy-dippy song. Cousteau would inevitably name some weird sea creature after her. Seiuchi would probably find a way to scatter confetti all over the galley and she’d be picking it out of her hair for days…

Getting up, she chased after her devious captain. “I don’t suppose there’s still time for me to quit and join the Kuja, is there?”

Gold eyes glinted sadistically at her as Law replied, “Nope. Welcome to Appreciation Hell. Population: you. Don’t try to run, either—I’ll Shambles your ass into the galley if I have to.”

Ikkaku punched his arm in retaliation, though she was careful not to hit him too hard—if she annoyed him too much, he’d go out of his way to rile the guys up even more. God, he’d probably propose they all get tattoos of her face or something just to make her suffer.

“You’re an absolute bastard,” she said, affection creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

“Yes, but a bastard that appreciates his engineer,” Law replied, and out of the corner of her eye, Ikkaku could have sworn she saw the barest hint of a genuine smile flicker across his face.

Despite the knowledge that she’d be stuck with a crew of idiots and a captain who had the emotional range of a teaspoon and a truly frightening sense of humor, Ikkaku felt happier than she had in weeks as she playfully knocked her shoulder into his. “I guess that’s not so bad, then.”

The End

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