Interlude 1

Interlude 1

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Florida hissed in pain, gritting his teeth as Akira slowly cleaned the gouge in his side. I'd handed off his shirt and coat for one of the guys to clean out as best they could, but I honestly figured that Florida would have to make himself a new shirt and coat.

I sat on the counter beside the sink in Akira's little medical corner, kicking my feet as I waited for my doctor to finish cleaning the wound so that I could safely use my ability on it. Florida was sitting on the main bed as Akira worked at his side, blood slowly leaking from the gouge. Bad as that one was though, it apparently wasn't much for the crazy bastard.

My eyes drifted back to the large scar in the center of his chest, it reached from between his collarbones all the way down to his belly button, a jagged streak of pale white on an otherwise tanned chest. What the fuck had done that? And how'd he survive?

Akira poured some more disinfectant onto Florida's wound, making the strange man flinch away. Akira frowned, "Hng."

The Cake was rocking slowly as it sailed off towards the next island. I didn't want us to be around to get caught in the backlash of blowing up the castle of the most dangerous tribe on the entire island.

The smaller man cringed, "Gimme a break here, I'm missing like, a pound of flesh from my side."

"Hng." Akira said, looking back at the gouge and blotting at it with a cloth.

Ironhide started to sigh, freezing as the motion caused his wound to flex, "Tchsshhhhh… yeah… I got lucky I think… my ability saved me there."

"How'd it even hurt you if you were metal?" I asked around my mouthful of chips.

"The same way Attila avoided your Ability," Florida said slowly, taking shallow breaths, "Haki. The concentrated and implemented power of the users will and intent. It interacts funnily with Abilities last I was aware, it allows you to affect an intangible Logia and such."

A frown crossed my face as I chewed, thinking over that. Swallowing, I quirked an eyebrow at him, "So, because he was using this stuff, he could hurt you even though you were metal?"

"Yes. Same way I could shoot someone made of shadows right in the face using it and have it stick."

"You're teaching me that."

"Hng." Akira protested.

"Was gonna say. Not today, after this I'm eating, getting cleaned up, and going to bed." My doctor stepped away from the cleaned wound and I hopped off of the counter, walking over to the bed that Florida sat on, "I'm still lightheaded from the blood loss honestly."

Rolling my eyes, I leaned over some, "Alright, hold still."

"Hard to do anything else," Florida grunted as my fingers touched the hard muscle on either side of the surprisingly clean cut. I began to slowly push age into the wound, causing the gash to rapidly scab over.

"You're still teaching me some of those Marine techniques and about this Haki stuff." I insisted. While I could pull the age out of bruises, I hadn't figured out how to do it to cuts. Pulling the age out of the cut didn't make it go away, it just made it a fresh cut again. So far, I could just make them heal rapidly. But I could undo bruises, so I think it was possible, I just hadn't figured it out yet.

"There'll be rules." He said carefully as I worked.

"Like your stuff about what you won't do?" I guessed, delicately pushing age into the wound. I couldn't overdo it or it'd get wrinkly and leathery.

"Basically."

I nearly made a snarky comment at that, but then I thought about it. So long as I could take what I wanted, I really couldn't have given a single fuck about the 'rules' he'd had. Especially if I could learn half of what he had… I caught myself before my hand moved to touch the brooch in my pocket. "Eh. Worth it."

A little bit of tension in the muscles beneath my hands went away, making me smile. The edges of the large scab began to crumble away into dust, and Jacob let out a little sigh of relief as it disintegrated, leaving a new scar on his torso in place of the gash, "Thanks."

I acknowledged his thanks with a grunt, standing fully and taking a step back. accepting the towel from Akira to wash my hands of his blood.

Florida hopped from the table and stretched, as Akira handed me a towel to wash off the blood on my hands. "Oh… that I could get used to." His muscles flexed and shifted as he turned this way and that, testing out the limberness of his torso.

"Used to what?" I asked with a small smirk, wringing the towel through my hands as I watched him limber back up. Akira cleaning up behind me. My crew had had a few bullet wounds scattered amongst them when they'd got back to my ship, but nothing too bad. Florida was the last one to need attention since we'd gotten to the ship last.

He grinned back, a little bit of stubble on his jawline now, lacing his fingers together behind his head, "That's the best fucking painkiller I've ever seen."

With a grin, I gave him a small kick to the shin, "Just don't tell anyone. Otherwise I'll show you a real painkiller."

"Uh huh," Florida smirked before drawling out, "Riiiiiiight.

So I flicked him off.

"Tcheheheh…" chuckling, he walked towards the door. My eyes traced the network of raised lines on his back and upper arms. That was at least three dozen lashes across his back, with even more than that on his upper arms.

"Hng." Akira reminded him.

"I know I know. Lots of fluids."

"Oi!" I snapped, chucking the towel over my shoulder at Akira as I followed Ironhide out of my doctor's office and towards the kitchen, "If you're making something I'm getting some too."

"What, it's been a whole two hours since you ate?" He teased, hands still behind his head.

I kicked his ass, making him yelp, "Seven, jackass."

"Didn't say no! Eesh."

I grinned in victory, hands going to my hips as we walked through the bunks towards the kitchen. There was something bugging me though. Something Tom had mentioned.

Walking up the stairs, the setting sun shone through the window in the kitchen above us. Without looking at him, I softly asked, "… family, huh?"

The lean man beside me stiffened briefly before relaxing, his hands falling from behind his head to stuff into his pockets, "… yeah." Pointedly, I didn't draw attention to the tears flowing from the corners of his eyes.

I looked up at the ceiling, fiddling with the brooch in my pocket, quietly admitting, "… never thought of my crew like that."

"Not all crews have that dynamic," Florida said softly to the empty kitchen, moving towards the fridge.

With a noncommittal hum, I pushed the thought aside for now, "Well, what are you going to make for me?"

"Get your own, woman."

*Wham!*

"Gah! Don't hit the injured!"

"You're not injured anymore! I made sure of it!"

"I'll hit back."

"I'm the Captain."

"See previous statement."

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Interlude End