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Entry tags:
2 of 7 prompt fills
Title: Clash of Egos
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben pre-slash
Word Count: 710
Shanks was an easygoing man most of the time. He was a good captain, happy and carefree and not inclined to govern his men with the iron fist and rod some other, lesser, men resorted to. Still, for all his light-hearted ways, he had the temper redheads were so often known for. It was on a tighter leash than most, didn’t surface typically unless he was under duress or occasionally for completely random reasons his crew had yet to puzzle out. Most knew better than to pressure their leader, to gang up against him or to nag after him when the skin got tight around his eyes and he picked up a flush over his collarbone and the tops of his ears. It was unfortunate that the first mate was perhaps even more stubborn than the captain and came with a temper that rushed out like a dam bursting before a flood: long withheld, cool and overwhelming, and not soon to dry up.
Lately the captain had been in what Ben called, privately and on this most recent occasion directly to his face, a snit. Little things were setting him off and it was hard to say which was worse, the seemingly indiscriminate bouts of yelling and stomping around or the rounds of shouting and near fisticuffs that came from the first mate’s deliberate provocation. As for the most recent round, everyone knew the cause and, were it possible, would have left the ship so as not to be witness to what promised to be the most spectacular eruption of male ego and temper yet. Too bad they’d left port behind three hours ago.
The door to the captain’s cabin was closed and the porthole windows shuttered but that didn’t stop sound from carrying. On deck the crewmembers exchanged long suffering looks and Lucky Roux sent Meyer off in search of a broom and a dustpan when the telltale thud and tinkling of glass heralded a thrown bottle. Yasopp leaned on the rail, his back turned resolutely to the noise, and took a long drag off a cigarette. He didn’t smoke very often but the tension on board had been thick enough to cut with a knife for the past several weeks and he needed the nicotine buzz to calm his own nerves. Roux joined him when the bellowing inside reached the crux of the problem, Ben’s steely voice carrying over Shanks’ continued ranting.
“I don’t owe you any obedience when it comes to my personal life. Nor, if you continue to act like a spoiled child, will I give you any allegiance at all. Respect is earned and lately you’ve squandered nearly all I have to give.”
The two men exchanged wincing glances as the first mate struck perhaps unwittingly straight at the heart of the matter. “How long,” Yasopp muttered, staring down at the passing waves, “d’ya think this is gonna continue?”
Lucky Roux let out a sigh and reached into his pockets in search of the ham sandwich he’d stored away. “Latest pool gives it another five weeks.”
“Five weeks!?” Yasopp looked ready to smack his forehead against the mast in pure frustration. “I don’t think the booze’ll last that long, let alone my patience. What,” he added, “ do YOU think?”
The fat man chewed and swallowed, eyes inscrutable behind his red lenses. “I think,” he said finally, “that Ben is a smart man except when it comes to this and Cap’n is hesitating because he hasn’t got a clue.”
“And what does THAT mean?”
Behind them, something else hit the wall and shattered right before the door was flung open, the first mate pausing in the doorway long enough to ask a rather plaintive question before his long legs carried him away from the carnage and down below deck to tenuous sanctuary.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
No answer was forthcoming and he walked away without looking back, the men on deck finding other things – like the grain of the wood or the seagulls overhead – suddenly very interesting. Shanks shut the door quietly for a change and Lucky Roux smiled around another bite.
“It means,” he said, “that they’re both idiots. But I think the worst is over. Now it’s gonna get REALLY interesting.”
Title: Thinking of You
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Hina/Tashigi, Smoker/Ace mentioned
Word Count: 666
There were moments, only a few and quickly suppressed of course, when Tashigi resented her captain. She’d never ever confess to having those moments of frustration and irritation but they existed. Ace-san was marvelous – for a pirate – and she couldn’t begrudge her captain for having him. After all, it was Ace-san that dropped in on them rather than the other way around. Still, it wasn’t like Captain Smoker ever sent the freckle-faced youth away even if he shouted and protested for a good hour or so before settling down to what Tashigi imagined (not that she imagined imagined anything about her captain at all, heaven forbid) had to be a very interesting arrangement. Pirate and marine, smoke and fire, they were complement and antithesis in two bodies and it was a wonder the ship hadn’t burned down yet.
No, Tashigi was quite fond of Ace-san and the way he left Captain Smoker relaxed and even occasionally letting slip a small smile within an hour or two after his skiff had disappeared over the horizon. It was just that, well, it wasn’t quite fair, darn it! She did everything she could to make life easier for the two of them and they were getting to enjoy each other’s illicit company on a fairly regular, if still infrequent basis. And what did she get? Letters, a rare snail call during which she was entitled and obliged to kick the communications officer out of the phone room, and lots and lots of pent-up frustration. She was having her own clandestine affair so why did she have to go so long without? A girl got VERY frustrated and lonely on a ship full of male marines, especially when she had a position as their commanding officer to uphold and when she wasn’t the least bit interested in a single one of them anyway. At least at Logue Town there had been semi-consistent visits to look forward to. Now, out on the Grand Line and chasing after Straw Hat to what could very well be the end of the ocean, her chances of seeing her own special someone were so miniscule as to be ridiculous.
Tashigi watched as Ace waved cheekily in her direction and sighed when Captain Smoker’s bellow only sent him laughing across the waves. With the pirate gone, she could hand watch back over to some of the men but her bed held little appeal at the moment. Her bed was lonely and cold and so very empty. Feeling out of sorts, the swordsman saluted abruptly to the marine who came to relieve her and stalked off in the direction of the showers. It was the only place on the entire ship where she was assured privacy; not even Captain Smoker would walk in when she was almost guaranteed to be naked. And the idea of some personal time was suddenly, insistently, appealing.
The shower water held the slightest tang of salt, the desalinization machines were good but not perfect, and Tashigi licked it off her lips and leaned against the wall. Hina’s face coated the backs of her closed eyelids and the lieutenant found it far too easy to pretend the trails of water slipping down her skin to be strands of cherry blossom hair. The only downside to fantasy was that her hand would never be the equal to the older woman’s. Blood trickled over her tongue, the familiar taste and bite of pain, providing the last push and she gasped out Hina’s name. Later, after listening to Captain Smoker actually offer civil words to the cook who was trying to get him onto a lower cholesterol diet, the edge came roaring back and Tashigi decided to commandeer the comm room. If she was going to suffer, she darn well was going to share. Besides, if she were lucky, Hina would punish her for it whenever they finally met again and trying to picture her chastisement’s form would probably get her through another month at least.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben pre-slash
Word Count: 710
Shanks was an easygoing man most of the time. He was a good captain, happy and carefree and not inclined to govern his men with the iron fist and rod some other, lesser, men resorted to. Still, for all his light-hearted ways, he had the temper redheads were so often known for. It was on a tighter leash than most, didn’t surface typically unless he was under duress or occasionally for completely random reasons his crew had yet to puzzle out. Most knew better than to pressure their leader, to gang up against him or to nag after him when the skin got tight around his eyes and he picked up a flush over his collarbone and the tops of his ears. It was unfortunate that the first mate was perhaps even more stubborn than the captain and came with a temper that rushed out like a dam bursting before a flood: long withheld, cool and overwhelming, and not soon to dry up.
Lately the captain had been in what Ben called, privately and on this most recent occasion directly to his face, a snit. Little things were setting him off and it was hard to say which was worse, the seemingly indiscriminate bouts of yelling and stomping around or the rounds of shouting and near fisticuffs that came from the first mate’s deliberate provocation. As for the most recent round, everyone knew the cause and, were it possible, would have left the ship so as not to be witness to what promised to be the most spectacular eruption of male ego and temper yet. Too bad they’d left port behind three hours ago.
The door to the captain’s cabin was closed and the porthole windows shuttered but that didn’t stop sound from carrying. On deck the crewmembers exchanged long suffering looks and Lucky Roux sent Meyer off in search of a broom and a dustpan when the telltale thud and tinkling of glass heralded a thrown bottle. Yasopp leaned on the rail, his back turned resolutely to the noise, and took a long drag off a cigarette. He didn’t smoke very often but the tension on board had been thick enough to cut with a knife for the past several weeks and he needed the nicotine buzz to calm his own nerves. Roux joined him when the bellowing inside reached the crux of the problem, Ben’s steely voice carrying over Shanks’ continued ranting.
“I don’t owe you any obedience when it comes to my personal life. Nor, if you continue to act like a spoiled child, will I give you any allegiance at all. Respect is earned and lately you’ve squandered nearly all I have to give.”
The two men exchanged wincing glances as the first mate struck perhaps unwittingly straight at the heart of the matter. “How long,” Yasopp muttered, staring down at the passing waves, “d’ya think this is gonna continue?”
Lucky Roux let out a sigh and reached into his pockets in search of the ham sandwich he’d stored away. “Latest pool gives it another five weeks.”
“Five weeks!?” Yasopp looked ready to smack his forehead against the mast in pure frustration. “I don’t think the booze’ll last that long, let alone my patience. What,” he added, “ do YOU think?”
The fat man chewed and swallowed, eyes inscrutable behind his red lenses. “I think,” he said finally, “that Ben is a smart man except when it comes to this and Cap’n is hesitating because he hasn’t got a clue.”
“And what does THAT mean?”
Behind them, something else hit the wall and shattered right before the door was flung open, the first mate pausing in the doorway long enough to ask a rather plaintive question before his long legs carried him away from the carnage and down below deck to tenuous sanctuary.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
No answer was forthcoming and he walked away without looking back, the men on deck finding other things – like the grain of the wood or the seagulls overhead – suddenly very interesting. Shanks shut the door quietly for a change and Lucky Roux smiled around another bite.
“It means,” he said, “that they’re both idiots. But I think the worst is over. Now it’s gonna get REALLY interesting.”
Title: Thinking of You
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Hina/Tashigi, Smoker/Ace mentioned
Word Count: 666
There were moments, only a few and quickly suppressed of course, when Tashigi resented her captain. She’d never ever confess to having those moments of frustration and irritation but they existed. Ace-san was marvelous – for a pirate – and she couldn’t begrudge her captain for having him. After all, it was Ace-san that dropped in on them rather than the other way around. Still, it wasn’t like Captain Smoker ever sent the freckle-faced youth away even if he shouted and protested for a good hour or so before settling down to what Tashigi imagined (not that she imagined imagined anything about her captain at all, heaven forbid) had to be a very interesting arrangement. Pirate and marine, smoke and fire, they were complement and antithesis in two bodies and it was a wonder the ship hadn’t burned down yet.
No, Tashigi was quite fond of Ace-san and the way he left Captain Smoker relaxed and even occasionally letting slip a small smile within an hour or two after his skiff had disappeared over the horizon. It was just that, well, it wasn’t quite fair, darn it! She did everything she could to make life easier for the two of them and they were getting to enjoy each other’s illicit company on a fairly regular, if still infrequent basis. And what did she get? Letters, a rare snail call during which she was entitled and obliged to kick the communications officer out of the phone room, and lots and lots of pent-up frustration. She was having her own clandestine affair so why did she have to go so long without? A girl got VERY frustrated and lonely on a ship full of male marines, especially when she had a position as their commanding officer to uphold and when she wasn’t the least bit interested in a single one of them anyway. At least at Logue Town there had been semi-consistent visits to look forward to. Now, out on the Grand Line and chasing after Straw Hat to what could very well be the end of the ocean, her chances of seeing her own special someone were so miniscule as to be ridiculous.
Tashigi watched as Ace waved cheekily in her direction and sighed when Captain Smoker’s bellow only sent him laughing across the waves. With the pirate gone, she could hand watch back over to some of the men but her bed held little appeal at the moment. Her bed was lonely and cold and so very empty. Feeling out of sorts, the swordsman saluted abruptly to the marine who came to relieve her and stalked off in the direction of the showers. It was the only place on the entire ship where she was assured privacy; not even Captain Smoker would walk in when she was almost guaranteed to be naked. And the idea of some personal time was suddenly, insistently, appealing.
The shower water held the slightest tang of salt, the desalinization machines were good but not perfect, and Tashigi licked it off her lips and leaned against the wall. Hina’s face coated the backs of her closed eyelids and the lieutenant found it far too easy to pretend the trails of water slipping down her skin to be strands of cherry blossom hair. The only downside to fantasy was that her hand would never be the equal to the older woman’s. Blood trickled over her tongue, the familiar taste and bite of pain, providing the last push and she gasped out Hina’s name. Later, after listening to Captain Smoker actually offer civil words to the cook who was trying to get him onto a lower cholesterol diet, the edge came roaring back and Tashigi decided to commandeer the comm room. If she was going to suffer, she darn well was going to share. Besides, if she were lucky, Hina would punish her for it whenever they finally met again and trying to picture her chastisement’s form would probably get her through another month at least.