One Piece - No Side - 3/?
Title: No Side
Characters: Smoker, Tashigi, Ace, various others
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Notes: I started posting this fic at ff.net, but I've decided not to use ff.net anymore. I'll link to the first two chapters there, but from this chapter on I'll be posting this fic on LJ.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
No one would have believed it, but when Smoker met with Gold Roger face to face, it was because his father had slipped him a key. His straight-laced, stiff, by-the-book father. And when he handed Smoker the key, there was something burning behind his eyes that Smoker had never seen before.
He didn't understand the full importance of the meeting at the time, but could feel it somehow. He knew that whatever was happening was much, much bigger than him. It was evident when he tried to talk and his throat seized. There was a lump that needed to be coughed out several times before he could squeak out a word.
It wasn't until he left the room that he realized he'd only been in there for about ten minutes. It felt like hours and he nearly floated on the way home. His father pulled him inside by the shoulders and sat him down. Told him to remember that night for the rest of his life.
His mother didn't want Smoker to watch the execution the next day, but his father, who had treated him as a man since he was barely waist high, insisted. It shook her up a little when he left the house the next morning, wide eyed like he was on his way to a birthday party.
His father didn't have to tell him to remember. It would have been impossible to forget.
But twenty two years later, he had to wonder if his father would be ashamed of this sight. He was on the other side of a set of bars now, reeling from the seastone cuffs around his wrists.
Outside of the bars was one of the most elaborate offices he'd ever seen. There was a large desk with various ornaments, compasses and clocks on top. An ornate rug with silver and gold tassles at the ends was spread underneath, and a tall, black leather chair was tucked into the desk. Smoker could smell the leather from his cell.
He took a deep breath trying to let the strong smell wake up all of his senses while the seastone threatened to leave him unconscious again. It was then that he noticed that most of the items hung on the walls were clocks, all set to the same time. There was no logical arrangement, the colors and sizes were mismatched. But they all ticked to the same beat, steadily and much more quietly than Smoker could imagine so many clocks in unison could be.
There were two port-holes just across the room where Smoker could see the sky outside. A grandfather clock ticked and tocked between the port-holes and when the ship swayed while passing over a wave, it slid along the floor.
He reckoned a calendar would be a bit more useful than god knows how many clocks, he could certainly see the time but the date was a mystery. It could have been a day or a week since...
Since...
He remembered everything. Grudginly. Westport, Ace, Bloom...where was Tashigi? Or his ship? Where was he?
He groaned. Whatever this little situation was, getting out of it was going to be a pain.
For the first time since Smoker woke up, he heard a noise other than the ticking clocks. A small, orange den den mushi, lost among the clutter on the desk, began to ring. It gradually became louder and Smoker could hear footsteps booming somewhere outside. The man who slammed open the door, sat himself on the smooth leather chair, propped his feet up on the desk (knocking several trinkets off with his large feet) and proceeded to talk about Smoker as if he wasn't there, was Bloom.
His voice was so loud it appeared to shake the room and when he laughed it rumbled and echoed, effectively making Smoker painfully aware of his lack of cigars. And he was gloating about catching that gone bad marine Smoker and Fire Fist Ace and...
Smoker turned his head just slightly to the side and there he was. Portgas D. Ace. Asleep, and barely three feet away from him. He was breathing quietly and Smoker blamed his half-awake state for not noticing him before. But between this and the seastone and that obnoxious man at the desk, Smoker wasn't sure if his temperature could rise any higher.
"Bloom." He said, calmly, after a deep breath.
Bloom raised an eyebrow but continued to bark into the receiver.
"I know you can hear me."
He raised the other eyebrow and turned before hanging up. He had the most ridiculously smug look on his face as if he'd just done something a bit more impressive than end a conversation. Squatting down on the floor until he was about eye level with Smoker, he drew in a puff from a cigar, slowly.
"Why am I here." His words had an edge to them, regretfully not sharp enough to cut through Bloom's expression.
"You know why you're here." Bloom said after a very deliberate pause. "You went against your orders."
"I don't know what your orders are, but when I see a pirate my top priority is to catch him."
"I believe they are also to do as your superiors say."
"And it's necessary to chain me up and put me behind bars."
"You know it's standard procedure for potentially dangerous devilfruit users."
Smoker couldn't argue with that. At that moment, he was potentially dangerous.
"You're going the same place he is." Bloom nodded towards Ace. "Nearest marine headquarters. And no I'm not removing those."
Smoker was only a few feet away from Bloom's face, but could see in his eyes every reason that he was at his rank. He'd stepped over a lot of men to expand his tacky clock collection and call this ship his own.
Neither of them blinked while holding the stare. Smoker knew there was nothing he could say to this man. But he wasn't staying on this ship and his fate was not going to be handed to him by this excuse for a marine.
It was Bloom who broke the stare first and laughed, deep from his stomach.
"We'll be there in two days. Get comfortable."
He left the room, slamming the door again on his way out. Smoker growled.
He hadn't been unconscious long. A full day at the most if he remembered where the nearest headquarters from Westport was correctly. And he couldn't remember a single thing past catching up to Ace at Westport. Bloom had to be a devilfruit user, but what type Smoker could only guess. His power was enough to take Smoker entirely by surprise, and that was no easy task.
But he hadn't just taken Smoker, he'd gotten both him and Fire Fist Ace with almost no struggle, there weren't any visible cuts or bruises on either of them. This was the kind of man that Smoker hated the most. The only thing worse than an idiot. A powerful idiot.
"Well he seems nice." It was Ace who spoke this time. And Smoker had to admit that he had lost at least one of the battles taking place in this room.
"Deja vu." Smoker said only a notch more audible than a mutter. Last time it had been with the younger D. This was really no improvement.
"The bars are made of seastone too. Hmm." Neither of them planned to stick around.
"You were awake?"
"I don't think anyone could sleep with that guy around. He's louder than a train wreck. So how do you suppose we get out of here?"
"We are not getting out. Marine headquarters is where you belong."
"You'd leave me here with that jerk?"
"I don't give a damn who you're left with as long as they're taking you to prison."
Ace grinned.
He was looking around the room for an escape, no doubt. but Smoker couldn't see an obvious one either. He knew, first hand, just how effective seastone could be.
The sky was growing darker outside, 7:42 pm by the nearest clock, when one of Bloom's men brought them a meal. It was surprisingly not half bad. They were even free of the handcuffs while they ate, but ankles were still secured and two men stood just outside of the locked cell, watching.
Even when he watched them carefully as they opened and shut the lock, he didn't see an opening. Once outside of the cell, there was nothing but an unlocked wooden door, but even then he couldn't be sure what would be outside of that. He wasn't even sure what kind of ship they were on and his best guess would be a shot in the dark.
Bloom held all of the cards. Utterly.
When they finished eating the cuffs were promptly replaced. They always had an extra punch to them when they first contacted the skin and Smoker felt a soft blow that was either from the shock or his head striking the wall as he fell back into sleep.
---
When Hina heard word of Smoker's disappearance, it was only with a twinge of regret that she let her expression betray her to the few men in the room. Her lips curled up just enough at the edges that two of the men left the room and prepared to turn the ship around. It was a safe bet that would be her next order.
She wasn't worried. If anyone was capable of taking care of himself, it was Smoker. But that he had left in custody and now that ship was unaccounted for...well that was interesting. And all of this was within range of where she was stationed. Not that she owed him anything.
But the sky was curiously dark that day and sometimes she swore she could just smell when something was amiss.
She pulled a log pose out of a drawer and tossed it to the man closest to the door, pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and breathed the orders to him through the smoke. The men who had prepared to turn the ship were right to do so.
She smiled.
"Hina curious."
Characters: Smoker, Tashigi, Ace, various others
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Notes: I started posting this fic at ff.net, but I've decided not to use ff.net anymore. I'll link to the first two chapters there, but from this chapter on I'll be posting this fic on LJ.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
No one would have believed it, but when Smoker met with Gold Roger face to face, it was because his father had slipped him a key. His straight-laced, stiff, by-the-book father. And when he handed Smoker the key, there was something burning behind his eyes that Smoker had never seen before.
He didn't understand the full importance of the meeting at the time, but could feel it somehow. He knew that whatever was happening was much, much bigger than him. It was evident when he tried to talk and his throat seized. There was a lump that needed to be coughed out several times before he could squeak out a word.
It wasn't until he left the room that he realized he'd only been in there for about ten minutes. It felt like hours and he nearly floated on the way home. His father pulled him inside by the shoulders and sat him down. Told him to remember that night for the rest of his life.
His mother didn't want Smoker to watch the execution the next day, but his father, who had treated him as a man since he was barely waist high, insisted. It shook her up a little when he left the house the next morning, wide eyed like he was on his way to a birthday party.
His father didn't have to tell him to remember. It would have been impossible to forget.
But twenty two years later, he had to wonder if his father would be ashamed of this sight. He was on the other side of a set of bars now, reeling from the seastone cuffs around his wrists.
Outside of the bars was one of the most elaborate offices he'd ever seen. There was a large desk with various ornaments, compasses and clocks on top. An ornate rug with silver and gold tassles at the ends was spread underneath, and a tall, black leather chair was tucked into the desk. Smoker could smell the leather from his cell.
He took a deep breath trying to let the strong smell wake up all of his senses while the seastone threatened to leave him unconscious again. It was then that he noticed that most of the items hung on the walls were clocks, all set to the same time. There was no logical arrangement, the colors and sizes were mismatched. But they all ticked to the same beat, steadily and much more quietly than Smoker could imagine so many clocks in unison could be.
There were two port-holes just across the room where Smoker could see the sky outside. A grandfather clock ticked and tocked between the port-holes and when the ship swayed while passing over a wave, it slid along the floor.
He reckoned a calendar would be a bit more useful than god knows how many clocks, he could certainly see the time but the date was a mystery. It could have been a day or a week since...
Since...
He remembered everything. Grudginly. Westport, Ace, Bloom...where was Tashigi? Or his ship? Where was he?
He groaned. Whatever this little situation was, getting out of it was going to be a pain.
For the first time since Smoker woke up, he heard a noise other than the ticking clocks. A small, orange den den mushi, lost among the clutter on the desk, began to ring. It gradually became louder and Smoker could hear footsteps booming somewhere outside. The man who slammed open the door, sat himself on the smooth leather chair, propped his feet up on the desk (knocking several trinkets off with his large feet) and proceeded to talk about Smoker as if he wasn't there, was Bloom.
His voice was so loud it appeared to shake the room and when he laughed it rumbled and echoed, effectively making Smoker painfully aware of his lack of cigars. And he was gloating about catching that gone bad marine Smoker and Fire Fist Ace and...
Smoker turned his head just slightly to the side and there he was. Portgas D. Ace. Asleep, and barely three feet away from him. He was breathing quietly and Smoker blamed his half-awake state for not noticing him before. But between this and the seastone and that obnoxious man at the desk, Smoker wasn't sure if his temperature could rise any higher.
"Bloom." He said, calmly, after a deep breath.
Bloom raised an eyebrow but continued to bark into the receiver.
"I know you can hear me."
He raised the other eyebrow and turned before hanging up. He had the most ridiculously smug look on his face as if he'd just done something a bit more impressive than end a conversation. Squatting down on the floor until he was about eye level with Smoker, he drew in a puff from a cigar, slowly.
"Why am I here." His words had an edge to them, regretfully not sharp enough to cut through Bloom's expression.
"You know why you're here." Bloom said after a very deliberate pause. "You went against your orders."
"I don't know what your orders are, but when I see a pirate my top priority is to catch him."
"I believe they are also to do as your superiors say."
"And it's necessary to chain me up and put me behind bars."
"You know it's standard procedure for potentially dangerous devilfruit users."
Smoker couldn't argue with that. At that moment, he was potentially dangerous.
"You're going the same place he is." Bloom nodded towards Ace. "Nearest marine headquarters. And no I'm not removing those."
Smoker was only a few feet away from Bloom's face, but could see in his eyes every reason that he was at his rank. He'd stepped over a lot of men to expand his tacky clock collection and call this ship his own.
Neither of them blinked while holding the stare. Smoker knew there was nothing he could say to this man. But he wasn't staying on this ship and his fate was not going to be handed to him by this excuse for a marine.
It was Bloom who broke the stare first and laughed, deep from his stomach.
"We'll be there in two days. Get comfortable."
He left the room, slamming the door again on his way out. Smoker growled.
He hadn't been unconscious long. A full day at the most if he remembered where the nearest headquarters from Westport was correctly. And he couldn't remember a single thing past catching up to Ace at Westport. Bloom had to be a devilfruit user, but what type Smoker could only guess. His power was enough to take Smoker entirely by surprise, and that was no easy task.
But he hadn't just taken Smoker, he'd gotten both him and Fire Fist Ace with almost no struggle, there weren't any visible cuts or bruises on either of them. This was the kind of man that Smoker hated the most. The only thing worse than an idiot. A powerful idiot.
"Well he seems nice." It was Ace who spoke this time. And Smoker had to admit that he had lost at least one of the battles taking place in this room.
"Deja vu." Smoker said only a notch more audible than a mutter. Last time it had been with the younger D. This was really no improvement.
"The bars are made of seastone too. Hmm." Neither of them planned to stick around.
"You were awake?"
"I don't think anyone could sleep with that guy around. He's louder than a train wreck. So how do you suppose we get out of here?"
"We are not getting out. Marine headquarters is where you belong."
"You'd leave me here with that jerk?"
"I don't give a damn who you're left with as long as they're taking you to prison."
Ace grinned.
He was looking around the room for an escape, no doubt. but Smoker couldn't see an obvious one either. He knew, first hand, just how effective seastone could be.
The sky was growing darker outside, 7:42 pm by the nearest clock, when one of Bloom's men brought them a meal. It was surprisingly not half bad. They were even free of the handcuffs while they ate, but ankles were still secured and two men stood just outside of the locked cell, watching.
Even when he watched them carefully as they opened and shut the lock, he didn't see an opening. Once outside of the cell, there was nothing but an unlocked wooden door, but even then he couldn't be sure what would be outside of that. He wasn't even sure what kind of ship they were on and his best guess would be a shot in the dark.
Bloom held all of the cards. Utterly.
When they finished eating the cuffs were promptly replaced. They always had an extra punch to them when they first contacted the skin and Smoker felt a soft blow that was either from the shock or his head striking the wall as he fell back into sleep.
---
When Hina heard word of Smoker's disappearance, it was only with a twinge of regret that she let her expression betray her to the few men in the room. Her lips curled up just enough at the edges that two of the men left the room and prepared to turn the ship around. It was a safe bet that would be her next order.
She wasn't worried. If anyone was capable of taking care of himself, it was Smoker. But that he had left in custody and now that ship was unaccounted for...well that was interesting. And all of this was within range of where she was stationed. Not that she owed him anything.
But the sky was curiously dark that day and sometimes she swore she could just smell when something was amiss.
She pulled a log pose out of a drawer and tossed it to the man closest to the door, pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and breathed the orders to him through the smoke. The men who had prepared to turn the ship were right to do so.
She smiled.
"Hina curious."