Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was dark, cold, and rank in the hold of the ship Fleur had unwillingly called home for the past 7 months. Her shoulders, back, and just about every other muscle in her body ached from the position the restraints had her contorted into. Her arms were above her head, the old rope biting into the soft flesh of her wrists. Her lower half sat with ankles crossed, chained to the bottom of a bathtub filled with seawater that sloshed with every sudden movement of the ship, making the chill never-ending.

She stared down at her tattered purple skirt floating on the water above her crossed legs. She had to hand it to them; this was a pretty smart way to keep her at their mercy, with no chance of utilizing her devil fruit powers.

There were many nuances to the psyche-psyche fruit she possessed, but it was still rendered useless at the touch of seawater. Had she not been stuck in this tank, she would’ve been running this ship ages ago.

With the psyche-psyche fruit, she couldn’t overtly control the actions of anyone or make them do something against their will. She could, however, delve into their mind and switch some thoughts around, throw a really good idea or two in there to try and do some persuading. But that’s not why the Black Cat Pirates had her locked in the brig.

They wanted to use her devil fruit powers for knowledge.

She had joined their crew after doing some light robbing of her former crew, under the pretense that she would be filling a void after they lost a member in a recent battle. How wrong that was. She was soon under Kuro’s thumb at all times, only released from her tank to eat and use the bathroom, and fulfill Kuro’s wishes, of course. At first, she was made to read the minds of crew members, pick out those who would be most willing to turn their back on their captain. Then he began to test the distances at which her powers could withstand. It started with placing her on the opposite end of the ship and reading his mind, then into a smaller boat and returning to recite whatever he had been thinking. After the distance at which her power could work was deduced (it worked as long as someone was in visible range), he began having her use it on other vessels. Marines, or pirates. She would tell him the name of the captain and anyone else important on board, their plans, their skills and advantages, as well as anything else he deemed pertinent information.

She did try to use her powers of persuasion to get the upper hand, but Kuro was too smart and diligent to let any of her ideas permeate his mind, and kept too close an eye on his crew members to allow them to follow through with anything. That, and she would face harsh punishment for any attempts at persuasion.

She had given up at this point. Resigned herself to being Kuro’s puppet until she either died, or he did. Neither of those ideas were too far-fetched. He and his crew were always itching for an excuse to get violent, and she knew just the right ways to piss them off enough to go bloodthirsty. The Black Cat Pirates were also far from the strongest crew on the East Blue, so it was entirely fathomable that some bigger, badder pirate would come and cut them down to size. Although there’s a good chance that would just make her situation worse.

Fleur was mulling all this over in her mind when the sounds above her began to pick up, feet were pounding on the deck, running to and fro making dirt rain down onto her from the rafters. The voices of the crew had increased in intensity and volume, but she still couldn’t make out more than a few expletives.

Now would be a wonderful time to read some minds and figure out what’s going on up there, although I’m sure I’ll find out sooner rather than later.

As if on cue, the hatch separating the two decks swung open violently and the crewmate, who Fleur had deduced to be Sham through her observations, dropped to the floor, completely bypassing the ladder.

“Up and at ’em, tiger. The boss wants you, time to make yourself of use,” she snarled, picking herself off the ground and making her way over.

“Oh, goody. Just what I’ve been waiting my whole life for,” Fleur deadpanned, doing jazzhands with her restrained hands

Whatever’s going on up there must be serious, Fleur thought. Usually, Kuro didn’t trust anyone else to retrieve her from her seawater tank, out of fear of manipulation. And rightfully so.

As soon as Sham had loosened Fleur’s binds enough for her to step out of the tank, out of the seawater, Fleur put her skills to work. Not taking the time to read Sham’s minds and figure out what was going on upstairs, she gently and unobtrusively slipped a thought into the back of Sham’s mind, letting it work its own way to the forefront.

There’s no need to tie her up, we’re badass enough to keep her in line.

“I’m not going to rebind you to save time, so you better not try any shit. You know there are enough of us that any feeble attempts at escape would be futile,” she hissed, her claw-like fingernails digging into the skin that had been rubbed raw by the ropes as she dragged Fleur to the ladder.

“Up you go.”

Fleur obliged, knowing there’s nothing that can be done from below. Her bare feet slipped on the rungs of the ladder from the water still dripping from her skirt and blouse, but she did not falter. The sun was bright, and it burned her eyes. Having been below deck in the darkness for so long, she was blinded by the light while her eyes attempted to adjust. Disoriented from the light, and the hustle and bustle on deck with her, as well as the overwhelming flood of frenzied thoughts of those around her. All this commotion left her vulnerable to Kuro, who snatched her by the hands before she had even gotten her footing. He was quick to bind her hands while chastising Sham.

“You should know better than this, Sham. You would never think not to bind her on your own. Cats are supposed to be smart, not gullible. I’m disappointed in you, Sham. I expect better from you in the future.”

Her eyes having now adjusted to the midday sun, Fleur could see Sham’s bowed head and sense the shame swirling around in her head, as well as the distracted anger and stronger fear in the mind of Kuro.

“What’s got you so worked up, Kuro? You’re usually a little more on the ball of yarn than this,” Fleur remarked with a sly grin.

She knew exactly what had him so worked up. In the few seconds it took her to organize her thoughts and the thoughts of those around her, she had figured out that there was another pirate ship on their tail, one every member of the crew was afraid of.

Kuro growled and grabbed a fistful of Fleur’s hair, yanking it hard as he pulled her to the stern. “As if you don’t know—”

He spat, releasing his grip with a shove that sent her to her knees, gripping the rail and looking at the sea behind them. She could see a large vessel behind them, but still just too far to make out their olly roger.

“All you need to tell me is who they are, what they want from us, and how can we beat them, fast,” Kuro demanded.

“Get me a spyglass,” Fleur said flatly.

“Who are you making demands to? Just tell me what I’ve asked!” Kuro shouted at her.

“I can’t tell you anything unless I can see someone, Mister Pussy Cat!” Fleur shouted back.

Kuro’s face darkened at her words, but still, he turned and took a spyglass from a passing crew member and deposited it into Fleur’s open hands. The ropes around her wrists had just enough slack between them to be able to use the spyglass comfortably.

Bringing the spyglass to her eye, she adjusted her gaze to fixate on the flag flying above the ship. A grin slowly spread across her face as the spyglass brought the Jolly Roger into focus. She would recognize that flag anywhere. She had never seen it in person before, but it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. The big red nose in the middle of the skull and bones was evidence enough of who the ship belonged to, but she still aimed the spyglass lower, onto the bow of the ship to find the infamous Buggy the Clown in all his glory, ordering his crew around. Having focused in on him, she could sense he was planning to raid the Black Cat’s ship; they had something he wanted, and he was willing to slaughter everyone on board to get to it.

Fleur chuckled before retracting the spyglass and giving it back to Kuro. “You’re fucked, Pussy Cat,” she sneered, standing to look him in the eyes.

“What did you say to me?” Kuro remarked.

“I said you’re fucked. Take a look yourself and tell me I’m wrong.”

“I don’t need to look at anything; that’s what you’re for. Just tell me how to get un-fucked.”

“I don’t think there’s any un-fucking this one, Captain.”

And she wasn’t lying when she said it. The Buggy Pirates were a formidable opponent, even with all their theatrics. Buggy himself was the most formidable of them all. Kuro stood no chance against Buggy, and Buggy’s crew dwarfed the Black Cat Pirates. There was no way the Bezan Black could outrun the Big Top either. Kuro was well and thoroughly fucked.

Kuro shoved the spyglass back into Fleur’s hand and leaned down to get close to her face. She could feel his hot breath wafting across her cheeks and could barely resist the urge to gag. It smelled like raw fish

He really takes the whole cat thing too far

“Then don’t you forget that if we’re fucked, that makes you double-fucked.”

“I’ve been fucked six ways from Sunday since you first got your paws on me,” Fleur spat back, rolling her eyes and stepping back.

His feet followed hers, so he was even closer than he had been before, and he hissed in her ear, “Then convince them to turn around, and I won’t make it seven.”

Shuddering at the insinuation of his words, Fleur turned her body back towards the railing and brought the spyglass to her eye and looked back at the Big Top. They had grown close enough that she could see the makeup on Buggy’s face through the device.

He was handsomer than he had been the last time she’d seen him with her own eyes, granted that had been over 15 years ago.

She was a few years younger than him when they had sailed together with The Roger Pirates, so he had never spared her a second glance, other than to call her a brat. Fleur often glanced at him though. Although Shanks was kinder to her, and much more conventionally attractive, something about Buggys crude nature was entrancing to her.

Fleur had only been an apprentice on Gold Rogers crew for less than 2 years when he was executed, but it was still as harrowing to her to witness as the other members of his crew that were in Loguetown at the time. She was only 12 when it happened, and hadn’t been a very beloved or notable member of his crew, so it was easy to slip away rather than join Shanks. She found a job working at a bar in a different coastal town. She began with scrubbing floors, but by the time she was 15 she was practically running the establishment on her own. When she turned 17 she decided she was done pretending to be a civilian, and was ready to get back to the sea, and there began her life of crew hopping. She never found a crew she quite fit in with the way she hoped, and when she thought she was close, some tragedy would strike and she would be left alone once again.

Kuro snapped his fingers in front of her face, bringing her back to the present moment

“Who is it?” he implored

“Buggy the clown, and the whole crew too” she replied

“Fuck” Kuro exclaimed under his breath

“That’s what I told you” Fleur grinned

Kuro gave the back of her head a good wollup,

“Now make them leave us alone”

“Kitten Whiskers, you know I can’t do that, I could try to make him think it would be a good idea, but he’s pretty dead set on getting whatever it is he wants from you”

Kuro gave another whack to the back of Fleurs head

“I’m tired of your excuses, just do as I tell you”

Fleur grumbled but leaned forward to get a better view of her old crewmate.

He really does look different. I’m not sure I would recognize him without his signature style, or if I hadn’t been keeping an eye on his bounty. Probably means he won’t remember or recognize me at all.

Buggy’s thoughts were running through his head faster than she could catch up with. It was like trying to read words on a spinning wheel, but that would only make it easier for a few thoughts to make their way into the rotation unnoticed.

What if they don’t even have it?
Is it really worth all this?
Maybe we’re better off somewhere else.

Through the lens, Fleur watched the flashy captain break out into a wide grin and turn back to shout something at his crew.

They’ve definitely got it!

His joy at the knowledge that the Black Cat Pirates had what he wanted was all that was pounding through his mind. Fleur couldn’t fathom how her meddling only served to fuel his dedication to reach them.

She lowered the spyglass and turned back to Kuro. “I’ve done all I can, Mister Whiskers,” she said.

“Then why are they still coming?” Kuro replied.

“Because I told you, I can only convince someone if there’s space to be convinced. Buggy’s dead set on getting what he wants from you, and he’s gonna kill you for it.”

She said that last part with a smirk, knowing it was almost entirely untrue. In fact, Buggy planned to try and make a fair deal for what he wanted. Unless the Black Cats struck first, in which case his crew would butcher them all and take what he wanted from their cold, dead hands. The desire to make a deal was decidedly un-flashy compared to Buggy’s usual style. But Kuro didn’t need to know any of that; because if he thought Buggy was coming to attack, then he would be sure to make the first move.

Fleur was fully aware of the ramifications of this lie. If the Buggy Pirates decided to slaughter those upon the Bezan Black, she would most likely be among the casualties. Fleur couldn’t find it in herself to care though.

A fast death at the detached hands of an old comrade sounds much more appealing than continuing to be the slave to a mangey old cat in my opinion.

Kuro struck her across her across the face this time. It was sure to leave a mark. Fleur stumbled but she didn’t hit the ground.

Lucky he doesn’t have those claws out

“You’re the one that’s going to die first if they make their way onboard.” he snarled

Fleur knew he wasn’t lying. Kuro was beyond enraged, and he wanted someone to take it out on. That usually fell to her.

“Captain!” someone shouted from behind them.

Fleur whipped her head back to the ship following them, knowing that’s what Kuro was being alerted to. It was much closer now, Buggy’s face displayed on the jolly rodger visible with the naked eye now.

“Buchi! Bag her and throw her back down. Make sure she’s fully secured this time.” Kuro ordered with a pointed glare. He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose with the bottom of his palm on his gloved hand while turning away from her to face another member of his crew.
“Get the cannons primed!”

While Buchi had his arms around her middle dragging her back down to her tub, Fleur took the time to do a two things before she was rendered useless.

She glanced back out into the sea to the Big Top, Buggy’s form was now distinguishable on the railing watching the Bezen Black’s crew members frantic scrambling. She didn’t have to have the spyglass to imagine the grin on his face. With her eyes still trained on him she sent out one last ditch effort of a thought to join the chaos of his thought. It was a long shot for sure, if his mind wasn’t already open to the idea then it would have no effect on him. But it was worth a chance.

Kuro should die for having taken what should rightfully be mine

Then sparing a glance at Kuro she went to add a thought in his head, only to find what she was going to introduce was already swimming around in there.

I’m so fucked

That was all she managed to get done before Buchi shoved the burlap sack over her head and shoulders, tying it tighter than necessary at the crease in her elbow

Buchi unceremoniously pushed her through the hatch, causing her to hit the floor of the brig shoulder first, white hot pain radiating from the joint to the entire left half of the body. Her head also made a resounding thud against the ground, leaving her genuinely seeing stars until Buchi’s great big fat lumbering body made it down the ladder and deposited her in the frigid sea water once again. This time he fastened the binds around her arms and ankles to the same chain link at the bottom of the tub, stretching her shoulders and bringing her upper half closer to the water.

Buchi didn’t say a thing as he turned to return to the uppder deck of the ship.

“Good luck Buchi
Fleur murmured with an audible smirk,
“you’re going to need it.”

At nearly the same time as she finished her sentence her whole body was splashed by a lurch from the ship.

Not a cannon striking the ship, but being fired from the deck

Fleur smiled at the thought, until there was the sound of impact moments later, and a rocking hard enough to send water flying from around her. The last thing her remaining unobscured senses picked up before giving out was the heat from above her, and the sound of crackling, splitting, and falling wood from above.

Chapter Text

Buggy howled with laughter when he saw the cannon hurtling towards the Big Top and doubled over when it struck the water a few hundred meters from his ship.

"Those damned cats have no idea what's coming for them! Kabaji! Get them with the Buggy ball, and make it flashy!" he said, rotating his body to face his crew.

"It's showtime!"

The Buggy ball hit the mast of the Bezen Black, sending it crashing to the deck in a ball of flames. In minutes, the Big Top was close enough to throw its hook and lines, securing the Bezen Black so that the Buggy Pirates could board, and board they did. Zipping down the ropes, Buggy's menagerie of freaks began their attacks on the crew of cats.

Buggy smiled at the sight of Kuro's panic as he tried to find a way to escape the flurry of swords and gunfire. He watched as Kuro swept his eyes across the ship, checking to make sure no one was watching him before he opened a hatch leading below deck. But someone had been watching him.

Buggy took Kuro's cowardice as his cue to join the show. Detaching his limbs and head from his torso, he floated his way down to the ship. It was entirely possible for him to use the lines to cross just as the rest of his crew did, but that just wouldn't be flashy enough to appease his taste.

"Let's get this paw-ty started!" Buggy cackled at his admittedly shameful pun as his limbs danced around him and arranged themselves in their proper spaces. Hopping off the rail, he shook his fur coat out so it caught the wind and trailed behind him for maximum flashiness. He cut through the throng of fighting pirates with no caution, making his way to the hatch he had seen Captain Kuro flee down.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty~" he mocked as he reached the scratched wooden floors of the brig. His eyes swept the dark room around him, lit only by the flames of some boards that had collapsed when the mast was struck by the Buggy ball. There wasn't much filling the room other than various upended crates and a cracked plaster bathtub with a broken beam from the collapsed ceiling laying atop it. No kittens or his treasure to be found.

"Now, Kuro, old buddy! I don't want to hurt you; you've just got something I want real bad. So if you go ahead and hand it over now, I swear, my crew and I will leave without another drop of bloodshed. Pirate's honor!"

No response.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, K-"

Buggy's sentence was cut off by Kuro's swift and silent strike, his claws having severed Buggy's leg in three spots. The Black Cat Pirate leaned back and crossed his arms, pushing up his glasses with the palm of his hand and giving Buggy a smug grin.

"What was that, Bozo?" Captain Kuro said in a snarky tone. Kuro's pride only lasted a moment before Buggy's leg reattached itself, and his detached hand picked Kuro up by the back of his neck.

"Kuro, Kuro, Kuro, that wasn't very nice of you!" Buggy chided, sauntering closer to the captain of the Black Cat Pirates suspended in the air. He wriggled like a kitten being carried in the jaws of its mother. Buggy brought the white glove of his unused hand close to Kuro's face, displaying the blades between each finger, very similar to Kuro's own claws.

"I told you I wanted to do this nicely!" Buggy enunciated every word in the sentence, making it clear that the offer for niceties had long since passed.

"Now! You're going to give me what I want, and you won't die right here, or in the ring of my circus, which I assure you is a wonderful deal offered to very few."

"What is it you want?" Kuro spat through clenched teeth.

"The Wicked Witch of the East Blue! I heard you've got her on board!" The clown exclaimed, pulling a rolled-up bounty poster from inside his fur coat.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any witches in my crew. I only do cats; everyone knows that."

"NOSE?! Are you making fun of my nose, Kuro? Because you are in a precarious enough position as it is, I don't think you'd want to make it any worse by insulting me, now would you?" Buggy's sentence began with a roar, punctuated by his fingertips digging dangerously into the Black Cat's throat, and ended at a tone barely above a whisper, faces so close their noses touched.

"N-no, Captain Buggy, I swear!" Kuro stammered out, finally realizing the danger he was in.

"Great!" Buggy exclaimed, dropping Kuro from his grasp and letting his body crumple to the ground in front of him before crouching to lean over the bespectacled man.

Hands returning to his wrists, he started unraveling the wanted poster of the Wicked Witch he shoved it into Kuro's face, saying, "Now that you understand your situation, tell me where you're hiding the Witch."

Kuro stared up at the drawing of the woman in the witch's hat, flowing shirt, and long-layered frayed skirt. She was wearing various chains and rings of gold with jewels and gems adorning her neck and chest, hands, wrists, and arms, as well as through braids in her hair. Even though the dark hair billowing behind her was drawn in black ink, he knew it to be a dark purple shade, just as he knew the black-inked eyes to be the same color. It was the shit-eating grin plastered on her face that really solidified her identity to him. Younger and much less bedraggled, yes, but there was no mistaking the woman on the poster for anyone other than Fleur DeLys. Who he currently had tied in a burlap sack in the tub behind them. She was probably dead. Having either drowned in the tub water after the beam had fallen, or been bludgeoned by the beam itself.

"I know you have her," Buggy continued, "I could feel her digging around in the back of my brain, trying to make me turn around, leaving my treasure behind. She's good! That's a useful friend to have Kuro, I'm jealous, really," he said, placing a hand on his chest before proceeding with his monologue. "But I'm too smart to fall for that, you see, I know my thoughts well enough to know which ones are mine and which aren't. I had another thought that wasn't my own today too! Would you like to know what it was, Kitty Cat?" Buggy leaned in and chuckled at the confusion on Kuro's face.

"It wasn't a thought you had planned for the Witch to send, no, I don't think Kuro of a thousand plans planned for this at all," he grinned and gripped Kuro by the chin. "I thought, or rather, I was encouraged to think, that I should kill you for taking what's mine!"

Kuro's eyes narrowed, and he shot a glare at the tub before he could get control of his facial expressions.

"There we go! Thanks for telling me where she's at, old buddy! Although; this really doesn't look like the type of place a gentleman such as yourself should be keeping a pretty lady like Miss Wicked." Buggy said, losing his jolly tone and fixing Kuro with a dark glare that made Kuro shake in his kitty boots.

Buggy began to push the beam out of the way of the tub so he could peer inside.

"I wouldn't bother," Kuro began, having finally caught his own tongue. "She's probably dead in there; you killed her with that explosion of yours."

"Shut your trap, cat, before I shut it for you." Buggy growled as he heaved the beam the rest of the way off of the tub.

In the bottom of the tub, he saw a girl with her upper half covered in a burlap sack, with blood spreading out from where he assumed her head to have been. Her body was curled in the bottom of the pool of water, hands by her ankles were they were both attached to a chain at the bottom of the tank. Buggy removed the sack from the woman with more care than he usually took with just about anything and threw it to the ground beside him.

Her hat and jewelry were missing, her long hair was matted with knots, muck, and blood close to her head. Her white blouse was stained red and brown, and her purple skirt was now frayed to the point of near nonexistence, but it was definitely her. The Wicked Witch of the East Blue.

Captain Buggy grimaced at the sight of her; it was pathetic, and he felt an uncomfortable feeling of pity sweep over him for the girl in the tub. Using one of his blades, he severed her binds and lifted her limp body out of the few inches of water left in the tub. He could see her chest still rising and falling faintly, but Kuro couldn't.

"See! I told you, dead. I'd say it's a shame, but it's really not. She was more trouble than she was worth, always bitching and trying to manipulate me and my crew, and she never actually gave any useful information we couldn't figure out ourselves. Hell, she couldn't even make you turn around! Useless if you ask me; I mean all she told me about you was 'You're fucked,'" he mocked in a nasally falsetto. He would've continued his blabbering had Buggy not delivered a hard stomp to the back of his head, smashing his face into the ground and mashing it in with a twist of his foot.

Buggy spat on the heap that was the Cat Captain's body on the floor and flung the Witch over his shoulder, growing impatient and ready to get off this litter box of a ship.

Reaching the top deck, he shouted to get the attention of his crew.

"Freaks! Time to wrap it up, flashily! We've got what we came for!"

With his characteristic grin, he motioned for his crew to make their way back to the Big Top, and so they did.

Back in his quarters on the Big Top, he deposited the unconscious lady onto his large bed; she sank into the plush pillows and blankets covering its surface, and Buggy found that he didn't mind if she got blood or any other mess onto it.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to bring her to his own room rather than the infirmary or an open bunk. He never allowed anyone other than Cabaji into his quarters, and he only allowed Cabaji inside to tend to Buggy's orders. His feet had just led him to his room, and he decided to go with it.

Speaking of Cabaji, he needed him in there, now. Buggy had no medical knowledge at all, especially not when it came to open wounds or blood. Thanks to his devil fruit power, he hadn't suffered a cut in longer than he could remember. This left him clueless as to what to do with the woman with blood oozing from her forehead laying on his bed.

"Cabaji!!" He shrieked, and Cabaji came rushing in, sliding on the hardwood floor from the speed of his entrance.

"Yes, Captain!" Cabaji said as he straightened his back and faced his superior.

"Do your fixy fixy medicine thingy on her, now!" Buggy ordered, gesturing to the woman lying in the middle of the bed.

"Is that…" Cabaji began before being cut off by his captain.

"The Wicked Witch of the East Blue, yes, yes, now get to work."

"But- What's she doing in here, Captain?"

Buggy pushed his shoulders back and stalked towards his first mate menacingly.

"Did I tell you to ask me questions, Cabaji? Or did I tell you to fix her?" Buggy asked in a threatening tone.

Cabaji scrambled over to the bed where she laid and dumped the contents of his bag onto the bed next to her and got to work, choosing not to say anything else about her being in Buddy's bed to avoid Buggy's rage.

"I need you to sit her up; the blood is going to pool in her head if she remains laying down," Cabaji said with a fearful tremor in his voice while he prepared his needle and thread to stitch the gash on her forehead.

It stretched from her left eyebrow to nearly her widow's peak. It would leave an ugly scar without a doubt. Her face was still covered in grime and tacky blood from where some had started to dry. He would need to wipe the area as best he could before he started stitching.

"I'll need a wet cloth too, to clean her face," Cabaji continued.

Buggy turned to get a clean cloth with water without another word, usually he wouldn't put up with a member of his crew telling him what to do, but he understood that these were special circumstances, so he would let it slide this time.

Returning with a wet cloth seconds later, he lifted the woman on his bed into a sitting position and settled himself behind her, letting her limp body rest on his chest for support, her head dropping to his shoulder as he passed the scrap to Cabaji.

Buggy shouted in alarm and snatched the cloth back as Cabaji began to scrub the girl's face with fervor.

"What are you doing!? You have to be gentler than that, Cabaji!" Buggy explained as his hand holding the cloth detached and made its way to her face. His other arm wrapped around her middle, making sure her pliant body stayed in place while he cleaned.

While Buggy had no experience with anything medical, he had spent years of his life wiping oil paint from his face. All that time had led him to develop a steady hand, perfecting the techniques for most efficient facial cleaning. Never before had he cared about Cabaji being gentle with a patient, much less caring to be gentle himself.

"I must be coming down with something," He reasoned to himself. No other explanation made sense. There's no way his impenetrable shell had been cracked by a pathetic Witch he'd never even spoken a word to.

Looking into the face of the girl on his shoulder, he swiped the cloth across her face with a careful and precise hand, making sure to avoid causing her any pain. With every swipe, he could see more of her true features making their way to the surface. He lost himself looking into her resting face, still pinched in pain even in her unconscious state. He could’ve sworn he recognized her, from somewhere other than the wanted poster.

Realizing how strange he was acting, he finished cleaning her face as fast as he could without causing harm and looked back to Cabaji, who was staring at his Captain with wide eyes.

“Well?? What are you waiting for?” he said as he dropped the cloth into Cabaji’s lap and reattached his hand to his wrist, bringing his other arm around the girl.

In case she wakes up and starts thrashing, he told himself, NOT because her skin feels nice on mine, he tried his best to push that second thought out of his mind, not wanting to be thinking anything of the sort when she came to. How embarrassing would that be?

Chapter Text

Fleur awoke to a cold cloth being rubbed on her face, causing pain to flare up. Then a voice she hadn’t heard in well over a decade from behind her. She couldn’t make out what was said due to the ringing in her ears from the pain in her head. Fleur could feel the words rumble through the chest of the man behind her.

Any other day she would have blushed to think of lying on the chest of Buggy, but today was not any other day; the pounding in her head a steady reminder of that. Then she felt his arm snake its way around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest and stabilizing her. She felt the cloth against the skin of her face again, this time stroking the layer of filth off with what could only be described as reverence.

Fleur couldn’t figure out how she had gotten here. Last she remembered she had been in the tub, and the ship had been hit by a cannonball or something. And now? That was even more confusing. She knew she was in Buggy’s personal bed, the other person in the room was just as perplexed about that as she was, and she knew Buggy was upset the other person in the room hadn’t been gentle, and incredibly conflicted as to why he cared if they were gentle at all. But she had no idea why she was there.

She opted to continue to pretend to be unconscious since that was certainly the best way to get more information on her situation. That, and the idea of opening her eyes or moving in any manner at all was painful just to think about.

The cloth on her face finished its job, and the ringing had faded enough that she could make out the words spoken by the man supporting her.

“Well?? What are you waiting for?”

They were obviously directed at the other man in the room, who was currently dumbfounded at the behavior of his captain, as was his captain.

Buggy’s other arm wrapped around her, however he wasn’t wearing a glove on his hand on this side. When it made contact with her bare skin, it gave her access to more than just the thoughts floating on the surface of his mind. Fleur took the opportunity to dig deeper into his mind, searching for what had happened the past few hours. She ran through the events from his perspective: fighting Kuro, demanding the Wicked Witch of the East Blue (she cringed internally at the idea of the title given to her by the marines), taking her from the tub - and that’s as far as she got before Buggy murmured in her ear, bringing her back to the present.

“So you’re awake, huh? I can feel you rummaging around in there.” He spoke softly, without his usual cadence of a performer, as not to startle the Witch too much. He didn’t want her jumping around with a needle this close to her face.

“Shit!” Fleur exclaimed, both out of shock at being caught in his head and the pain of a needle piercing her skin.

She felt the shake of his chest as he chuckled at her reaction.

“Find anything you like in there?” he asked in a suggestive tone, mostly to distract her from the needle making its way across her face.

She hummed and took his question as an excuse to reach a little further; he didn’t break the skin-to-skin contact, so she assumed he didn’t mind too much. After making her way to the present movement from where she had left off in his recent memory, she pressed her lips into a thin line and spoke.

“You didn’t kill Kuro.”

“You liked that?” Buggy asked incredulously.

“No, of course I didn’t like that,” she said, finally opening her eyes to glare up at him through the gaps of Cabaji’s hands running the needle and thread.

Oh fuck

He was much handsomer than she remembered, the spyglass having done him no justice. Her pupils surely dilated as she scanned his face, taking in all his features. He grinned down at her, and she was mesmerized by the way his lips curled upwards, and his teeth. She had never seen a pirate with such good teeth in all her years on the sea. She admired the oil paint across his face; his makeup skills had improved immensely. Her eyes settled on his nose; it was still as red and bulbous as it always had been, but he had grown into it. The familiar sight brought a smile to her face.

At first, Buggy felt a warm feeling rising in his chest when she began to smile up at him from her place on his shoulder. That only lasted until he realized she was looking at his nose. The familiar heavy and frigid feeling of shame settled itself into the pit of his stomach as his own smile fell and his eyes grew cold.

Seeing the change in his face, Fleurs eyes flicked to Buggys, and shivered at the lack of warmth in them; hadn’t he just been smiling at her? What could’ve changed?

She reached out into his mind only to be bombarded by decades of embarrassment and self-loathing that was flooding his mind. She frowned at his feelings that overtook her. His nose really wasn’t that bad, definitely nothing to harbor this much disdain towards himself for.

Buggy turned his face away and yanked his ungloved hand from Fleurs arm, severing the connection and leaving the space it had been cold.

“Stop that,” he growled through clenched teeth. He was very, very mad. Fleur didn’t need to read anyone’s mind to know that.

Cabaji’s hand froze and began to shake at the sound of the venom in his captain’s voice. Fleur winced at the feeling of the needle wiggling under her skin.

“Yes Captain Buggy?” Cabaji spoke without looking him in the eyes.

“Not you, idiot. Keep your hands steady!” Buggy replied, having noticed Fleurs wince out of the corner of his eye.

Buggy turned his face back down towards Fleur and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted before he could begin.

“Why didn’t you kill him?” Fleur blurted, partially out of genuine curiosity, partially because she didn’t want him to threaten her because she looked at his nose.

Buggy cocked his head and replied,

“Why did you want me to?”

Fleur said nothing, just bit her lip and closed her eyes tight, unable to turn away from Cabaji’s ministrations.

“What’s wrong? Black Cat got your tongue?” Buggy teased when she didn’t respond.

Her eyes opened to look at him again, trying, and failing, to hide the pain in them.

“Not anymore, never again,” she responded, voice harder than stone.

Buggy immediately regretted his joke as soon as she looked him in the eyes. He had never regretted a joke before, no matter how it made someone feel. In fact, he usually relished in someone being hurt by his taunting. But something about the Witch laying on his chest was different. He returned his hand to its former place on her arm as his form of a silent apology, and Fleur was surprised at the relief she felt at his action.

Buggy changed the subject again.

“So, The Wicked Witch of the East Blue? A pretty flashy name for a young lady such as yourself.”

“The name used to fit better; I look a lot ‘flashier’ when I haven’t been in a bathtub in the brig for over half a year.”

Why the bathtub? Buggy wondered internally without remembering the ability of the woman below him.

“They would chain me into it and fill it with seawater. So I couldn’t use my Devil Fruit powers.”

Buggy’s mind blanked, and even Cabaji paused his motions at her statement.

“Hm,” was all Buggy said in reply.

He regretted having chosen not to kill Kuro.

Fleur closed her eyes again, resigning herself to not delving into his mind again to avoid being the subject of his rage once more. She had already come to the conclusion that he didn’t remember her or their time shared on Gold D Roger’s ship. She had also decided not to share it with him, both out of respect to him having perhaps not told his crew, and out of a selfish bitterness at having been too easily forgotten.

“So what do you want with me?” Fleur asked, only mildly afraid of his response.

She felt his chest shake behind her as he laughed again.

“Ha! Isn’t it obvious? I want you to join my crew! Become one of my freaks! I think a witch would fit in perfectly at my circus!”

That was not what she had expected. But before she could formulate a response, Cabaji finished the last stitch and stood up.

“Anything else, boss?” he asked.

“Anything else hurting ya, Witchy?”

Buggy asked, looking down at Fleur and clapping his hands down on either of her shoulders. His, albeit playful, strike on her shoulders made the pain in her left side to bloom again, causing her to cry out and double over herself in pain.

“Fuck! Yes!” she answered with a hiss, trying to regain her composure.

Buggy’s eyes widened at her reaction, and he looked to Cabaji to yell at him to get over, but he was already standing in front of Fleur again.

“Your shoulder?” he asked, and Fleur replied with a tight nod.

“I’m going to need you to remove your shirt and lean back again, okay?”

Buggy’s eyes widened further impossibly at Cabaji’s request; his face turned as red as his nose.

Fleur nodded again to Cabaji and sat up, untying the laces at the front of her shirt only to stop with a grimace when she attempted to raise her arms to remove the shirt fully.

“I can’t, I- I need some help,” Fleur said in a pitifully small voice.

Cabaji reached forward to assist before flinching away from her after catching sight of Buggy’s glare from behind her. Buggy carefully helped her shrug out of the shirt; he tried his best to keep his fingers from grazing the bare skin of her torso. Once the shirt was off, he placed it in her lap for easy access. He quickly placed a pillow in his lap as well. For her comfort. He told himself. Both Buggy and Cabaji desperately avoided glancing at the cloth wrapping her chest and torso. For her comfort. Buggy told himself again, jarring himself with the thought; in the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated to leer at the breasts of a pretty girl like the one before him.

Goosebumps broke out on Fleur’s skin everywhere Buggy’s fingertips grazed her while he helped remove her shirt, setting her inner 11-year-old self on fire. When she leaned against him again, she could feel his muscles against her back through his shirt; she could feel his rapid heartbeat and the warmth of his body radiating through her exposed body.

When Cabaji began to poke, prod, and dig his fingers into her left arm to investigate what might be wrong, she flinched and turned her head to the right, finding herself face-first in the crook of Buggy’s neck and shoulder. At the same time, she instinctively grasped at whatever was closest to her right hand, which just so happened to be Buggy’s thigh.

In too much pain to feel ashamed of her actions, she pressed her forehead to his neck and breathed deeply, trying to return her breath to a regular pace. She found he smelled good. Better than any other pirate she’d been unfortunate enough (or fortunate enough) to find herself this close to. He smelled of sweat, gunpowder, brandy, and something sweet she couldn’t quite name. She could feel the muscle of his thigh rippling where her hand held on for what seemed like dear life. She found herself not quite ready to leave this position, Cabaji’s painful prodding be damned.

Buggy wasn’t even sure if he was still alive anymore. His heart was racing so fast he was surprised it hadn’t escaped his chest already. He could feel her panting against his jugular, and no matter how wrong it was, it was just about the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. Then she had gripped his thigh, and he found himself incredibly grateful for the pillow he had placed over his crotch before she had leaned back into him. He was using every ounce of effort to keep these thoughts out of his mind so as not to make the witch with her face in his neck uncomfortable, but he hadn’t felt her probing around in his head since she had intruded upon his self-consciousness about his nose. He was glad because his thoughts were really running through some nasty ideas at the moment.

When her grip on his thigh began to border on painful rather than sexy, he forced his hand between the two. He realized in this moment, when she interlaced her fingers with his, that he had never held hands with a woman before. It was nice.

“It’s dislocated,” Cabaji began. “I’m going to have to reset it. It’s going to hurt like fuck for a few seconds, but then it’s not gonna hurt anymore at all, ready?”

Fleur nodded into Buggy’s neck and let out a weak “Alright.”

When Cabaji forced her arm back into its socket, Fleur sank her teeth into the place where Buggy’s neck met his shoulder to muffle her scream of pain.

Buggy was shocked he didn’t come in his pants then and there.

“All done!” Cabaji said with pride and began to gather his things.

“Fuck!” Buggy exclaimed in a breathy tone.

“Shit!” Fleur said in alarm, turning her whole body to face him, her knees turning with her, one of them ending its journey dangerously high on the flustered captain’s thigh.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I swear Buggy!” Fleur rambled, lightly tracing her fingers over the indentations her teeth had left in his skin.

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Buggy replied, leaning in with a smirk, playing it off much cooler than he should’ve been able to, “you can bite me anytime you’d like.” He winked at her and leaned back to rise from the bed.

“You hang out here and rest up Miss Witch, Cabaji and I have some business to attend to.” Buggy said, turning away from her quickly before ushering Cabaji out of the room ahead of him.

“Buggy!” Fleur called out before the door closes behind the two men.

“Yes?” The detached head of Buggy the clown curled an eyebrow at the girl in his bed.

“My name is Fleur, Fleur DeLys.” She waited for a flash of recognition to cross his face, even skimmed the thoughts at the top of his head, which she found mostly involved making it to the bathroom real soon.

But nothing about her.

No recollection of her in the slightest.

“You’ve got it cupcake.” he winked again and retreated from the room.

Chapter Text

After Buggy and Cabaji left the room, Fleur was left alone with her thoughts. She winced as she adjusted herself on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. The pain in her shoulder had subsided, but her head still throbbed relentlessly.

She couldn’t help but wonder about Buggy’s offer to join his crew. It was unexpected, to say the least. She had spent years on the run, avoiding both the Marines and other pirate crews. Joining a circus of all things hadn’t crossed her mind.

Fleur’s mind wandered back to her days aboard Gold D. Roger’s ship. She remembered Buggy as a young, brash pirate with big dreams. The thought of reuniting with him in such circumstances was surreal. What had changed in the years since they had last seen each other?

She decided that she needed more information before making any decisions. Fleur carefully got out of the bed, wincing as she did so. She found a discarded shirt that must’ve belonged to Buggy and gingerly put it on. It was a bit large, but it smelled better than her own did, so it would have to do for now. She also took the time to locate a hairbrush precariously placed on the edge of one of the dressers in the room.

Leaving Buggy’s quarters after finishing her grooming, Fleur navigated the corridors of the Big Top, trying to find her way around. The ship was a maze of colorful tents and oddities, a true reflection of Buggy’s unique personality.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but wonder about Buggy’s crew. What kind of people were they? Were they all as eccentric as their captain? Fleur knew that joining any crew meant forming bonds with its members, and she needed to assess whether this was the right crew for her.

She continued her exploration until she stumbled upon a bustling area of the ship. It seemed to be a communal area where the crew members gathered. They were a motley group, each with their own quirks and costumes. Some were practicing tricks, while others were engaged in animated conversations.

Fleur felt a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She didn’t know how she would fit into this group of misfits, but she was willing to find out. Her past as the Wicked Witch of the East Blue had left her isolated and on the run. Perhaps it was time for a change.

As she stood there, taking in the chaotic scene before her, she couldn’t help but wonder what her future held. Joining Buggy’s crew might just be the adventure she needed, a chance to leave her past behind and embrace a new identity.

But there were still unanswered questions, and Fleur was determined to get the answers she sought. She would need to find Buggy and have a serious conversation about his offer and the expectations he had for her.

Fleur’s quest to find Buggy led her through the labyrinthine corridors of the Big Top. She encountered various crew members along the way, each more eccentric than the last. There was a sword-swinging acrobat with a penchant for juggling flaming knives, a mysterious woman with a collection of exotic pets, and even another clown who seemed to communicate exclusively in riddles.

After what felt like hours of wandering, she finally stumbled upon Buggy’s quarters once more. She hesitated outside the door, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. It was time to have that conversation.

She knocked lightly, and the door swung open to reveal Buggy, who looked surprised to see her standing there.

“Fleur, baby! Where’d you run off to? How’s that shoulder of yours?” he asked, his voice light but tinged with genuine concern.

“It’s… better,” Fleur replied cautiously. “But I have some questions, Buggy. About your offer to join your crew.”

Buggy stepped aside, inviting her into his cluttered quarters. She entered and noticed that Cabaji was nowhere to be seen. Even though she had been in the room before, for the first time she took the opportunity to survey the room. The room was filled with treasure maps, trinkets, and various pieces of pirate paraphernalia.

He gestured for her to sit on a plush chair, and she obliged. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her as he leaned against a wooden table.

“Ask away,” he said, folding his arms.

Fleur took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts, and drag her mind away from the prominent thought of how hot he looked in that position. Her eyes lingered on the way his striped shirt stretched around his biceps before returning to his face as she began her sentence.

“First, why do you want me to join your crew? I mean, I appreciate the offer and all, but I’m not exactly a pirate anymore. And why the circus? It’s not what I expected from you to want from me.”

Buggy scratched his head, looking momentarily flustered. “Well, you see, Fleur, I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, and running a circus seemed like the perfect way to showcase my talents. Plus, it’s a great cover for our real operations.”

“Real operations?” Fleur raised an eyebrow.

Buggy leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s just say we’re not your average circus troupe slash pirate crew. We’ve got a few… side businesses going on. And I could use someone with your skills.”

Fleur considered his words carefully. She had been hiding her Psyche-Psyche Fruit powers for years after it caught her the title of the Wicked Witch, and it was clear that Buggy knew about them, but he didn’t seem interested in abusing them like Kuro had. It was both a blessing and a curse to meet someone who understood the true extent of her abilities.

“I see,” she said slowly. “But I need to know more about your crew. Who are they, and what’s their story? I can’t just join blindly.”

Buggy nodded and leaned back, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk behind him, seemingly pleased with her cautious approach. “Fair enough. My crew is a diverse bunch. We’ve got Cabaji, my right-hand man and swordsman extraordinaire. Then there’s Mohji, who has an… interesting relationship with his pet lion, Richie. And let’s not forget about our resident shipwright, Schollzo.”

Fleur couldn’t help but chuckle at the descriptions. “And the others?”

Buggy continued, “We’ve got Galdino, who’s a master of Wax-Wax Fruit powers, and he can create anything from wax. We’ve also got a navigator, Tsuru, who’s as sharp as they come.”

As Buggy continued listing memebers if his crew, Fleur could sense a genuine affection for his troupe, and a camaraderie among his crew, despite their quirks. It was a stark contrast to the loneliness she had felt during her years running from ship to ship.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll consider your offer, Buggy. But there’s one more thing I need to know.”

Buggy raised an eyebrow, waiting for her question.

“Can you promise that I won’t have to run anymore?” Fleur’s voice wavered slightly. “I’ve been the Wicked Witch of the East Blue for far too long, and I’m tired of living in the shadows.”

Buggy regarded her with a thoughtful expression before breaking into his signature wide grin. “Fleur, once you’re a part of the Buggy Pirates, you’ll be free to be yourself. We embrace the bizarre, the unique, and the extraordinary. You’ll fit right in.”

With those words, Fleur felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this was the fresh start she had been yearning for. She knew there were risks involved, but the prospect of joining Buggy’s crew and leaving her past behind was too tempting to resist.

As Fleur prepared to leave Buggy’s quarters, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement mingled with uncertainty. The prospect of joining the Buggy Pirates was growing more enticing by the minute, but she still had reservations. She needed time to think, to weigh her options.

Buggy watched her carefully, his sharp eyes catching every nuance of her expression. He could tell she was conflicted, and it both intrigued and frustrated him. This woman, with her mysterious past and unique abilities, had somehow managed to captivate his attention in a way that no one else had.

Before she could make her exit, Buggy stepped closer to her, blocking her path to the door. His voice took on a softer tone, and there was an unmistakable vulnerability in his eyes.

“Fleur,” he began, “I know this is a big decision for you, and I don’t want to rush you into anything. But it’s getting late, and the crew can be rowdy at night. How about you stay here, in my quarters, for the night? You can have some time to rest and think things over. I promise, I won’t bite.”

Fleur's face flushed at his comment referencing their previous interaction and considered his offer, torn between her desire to have some space to contemplate her future and the undeniable pull she felt toward the enigmatic pirate captain. She couldn’t deny that there was something magnetic about Buggy, something that still made her heart race and her thoughts swirl after all these years.

“Alright,” she finally replied with a small smile. “I suppose I could use some rest. But only for the night.” she finished with a faux serious look on her face.

Buggy’s face broke into a grin, and he stepped aside to allow her back into his quarters. The room felt warmer now, with a soft glow from the lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. He gestured towards a bed she had laid on earlier.

“You can take the bed. I’ll find somewhere to sleep,” Buggy said, his tone surprisingly courteous.

Fleur shook her head. “No need. I’ve spent my fair share of nights in less comfortable places. I can handle this couch.”

Buggy raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you, Fleur? I can respect that, but, I really wasn’t asking. I already had Cabaji come and replace the sheets and blankets from earlier!”

“See! I’ve already been enough of a nuisance you had to change your sheets because I bled all over them!” Fleur argued, settling herself on the couch across from his desk and fixing him with a look that made it impossible to argue further.

Buggy grumbled and stalked back towards his bed, retrieving a pillow and soft blanket from the assortment of bedding. He tossed them onto the couch where Fleur sat looking at him (admiring him) possibly a tad more aggressive than necessary.

He didn’t appreciate having his attempt at being a gentleman declined. It was already strange enough for him to try, which only made it more embarrassing to be shot down.

As he began to search the floor for the pajama shirt he had discarded in the morning, he was shocked to find Fleur's tattered shirt in the place he was sure he had dropped it. Turning slowly towards the woman on his couch he noticed what he had failed to when she entered his room.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asked, fighting the urge to fall to his knees as she turned to look back at him with wide eyes.

“Maybe?” She replied, her voice rising in pitch toward the end of the word. “Mine was all nasty, and this one was on the ground so I just took it, I'm sorry Captain Buggy.” She said looking down at her lap and wringing her fingers.

Buggy guffawed and took a moment to catch his breath from how hard he was laughing.

“Did- Did you- Did you want a pair of pants too?” He asked, his voice faltering as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Fleur crossed her arms and sent him a glare paired with a small pout. “Is it really that funny Buggy?”

“I’m serious! That skirt of yours is in the same state as your shirt was and I’d be happy to lend you a pair of pants until we can get you a new wardrobe!” he said, finally getting a hold of himself. He started Opening drawers and rifling through to find a pair of pants that might fit her without having to be tied at the sides.

Finding a pair he had owned since he was much, much, younger he held them up for Fleur to investigate, “Whatddaya say?” he said, shooting her a wide lopsided grin.

Fleur grinned back, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” she said, rising from the couch to take the soft stretchy red pantaloons from his outstretched hands. She almost immediately began to remove her skirt and put the pants on without any shame for her proximity to the man before her.

All the blood in Buggy’s body rushed to his face, save for a good portion that went somewhere down south. He turned away and walked back to the bed awkwardly removing his striped bandanna and absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. His mind scrambled desperately for any conversation to fill the void of silence in the room.

“You know, I think the last time I wore those, I was watching Gold D. Roger get executed!” he blurted. Probably not the best thing to say, but it got the job done.

“Really?” Fleur queried, tying the stays in the front of the pants so they rested snugly on her hips. They fit surprisingly well, and she was shocked when he told her how old his pants were, realizing they were the same pants she had often admired his ass in. Though she had been young, she’d always had the crass mind of a true pirate.

“I was there too, but I left my crew and stopped pirating for a while after I saw that.” she told him, making her way back to the sofa.

“Haaaah?!” Buggy exclaimed, turning back around to find her retreating to the couch. “What was a girl like you doing in Loguetown that day? You must’ve been what, 9?”

“I was 12, but that’s a story for another time Buggy.” she said, offering a soft smile as her way of telling him goodnight.

He turned out the lanterns that remained on and donned his pajama pants, foregoing his usual shirt since someone else was already using it.

As the night wore on, Fleur settled into the sofa, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions and uncertainties. She couldn’t deny the connection she felt with Buggy, and she wondered where this unexpected journey would take her.

Meanwhile, Buggy reclined in his bed, it had never felt quite this overwhelming large and empty to him. His thoughts never left Fleur. He had been captivated by her from the moment she had waltzed into his life, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that destiny had brought her to him for a reason.

As the crew’s laughter and revelry echoed through the ship, Fleur and Buggy lay awake, their hearts beating in rhythm with the waves that carried them towards an uncertain future.

As the night deepened, the sounds of the crew’s revelry gradually faded, leaving behind a comforting silence in Buggy’s quarters. Fleur lay on the couch, her thoughts still swirling, but her exhaustion from the day's events eventually took over. She closed her eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Buggy, on the other hand, found himself unable to rest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Fleur’s presence had awakened something within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He watched her from his corner of his eye, a mixture of curiosity and desire gnawing at him.

After what felt like hours of silent contemplation, Buggy couldn’t resist the magnetic pull any longer. He approached the sofa where Fleur lay and, with a hint of hesitance, gently lifted her into his arms. She stirred but didn’t wake as he carried her to the large bed that dominated the room.

Gently, Buggy laid Fleur down on the bed, tucking her in with surprising tenderness. He had always been a showman, a performer, but this vulnerability he felt around her was entirely new.

He went to retreat to the couch she had previously laid in, but her hand gripped his wrist as he turned to go. She was still asleep, but her hand on his arm was unrelenting. Climbing into the bed beside her, Buggy couldn’t help but smile as he watched her peaceful expression. He knew this was reckless, that they were pirates, and their lives were filled with danger and uncertainty. And allowing himself to get this close, to let the warmth in his chest grow was an even more dangerous act. But at this moment, none of that seemed to matter.

Fleur shifted in her sleep, her body naturally moving closer to Buggy’s warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her snugly against his chest. It was an intimate embrace, one that made his heart race.

The night wore on, and Fleur and Buggy slept peacefully in each other’s arms, the ship’s gentle rocking lulling them into a deep slumber. The warmth of their bodies pressed together created a cocoon of comfort and safety amidst the chaos of their pirate life.

Chapter Text

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the small window, Fleur slowly began to wake. The first thing she became aware of was the warm body surrounding her, the sensation of being held, of being wrapped in the strong, protective arms of Buggy the Clown with her face pressed into his bare chest. She blinked, her sleep-fogged mind struggling to process the intimacy of the moment. How the fuck did I end up here of all places? She pondered to herself. Had someone told her three days ago that she would be waking up enveloped in the arms of the man she had a crush on when she was just a kid in a few days, she would’ve laughed in their face. Yet here she was.

Knowing he was asleep, and since there was more than a bit of skin to skin contact happening, she took the chance to search his mind using her psyche-psyche fruit powers. She wasn’t a fan of using her powers often. In fact, she usually refrained from reading the minds of others as often as she could. But when pressed so close to someone’s bare skin, in such an intimate position, it was almost impossible not to find herself lost within their subconscious.

She avoided his dreamscape, not wanting to be noticed in there, and instead chose to dig deep into the recesses of his memory, back to when they were on Gold D Roger's crew together. She wandered through his memories as a spectator, watching Buggy and Shanks bicker, and seeing her younger self flurry about the ship in an attempt to be useful. She cringed as she realized what memory she had stepped into when she watched her younger self struggle to lift a crate of gunpowder across the deck to where the powder monkey boy was waiting for her.

Buggy, too, stirred awake, his eyes meeting Fleur’s with a mixture of surprise and realization.They were tangled together in a way that felt both natural and forbidden, their faces inches apart. Her eyes were glazed over, as if she wasn’t actually awake, or perhaps she was instead far away. He felt a tickle in the back of his mind and realized what she was up to. He followed the trail she had left in her search of his memories only to find her inside one from all the way back when he was still on Gold D Roger's ship. What an odd memory for her to choose to watch, she could’ve easily found him jerking off to the thought of her teeth on his throat in the bathroom after he had left her in his bed, yet here she was. Watching the brat apprentice drop a crate of gunpowder on his feet 20 years ago.

“Morning,” Buggy whispered, his voice husky with sleep.

Fleur’s eyes came back to life and she swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing as she tried to sit up. But Buggy’s grip tightened, pulling her back down against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Fleur’s heart raced as she met his gaze, the tension between them palpable. She was sure he could feel her heart pounding against him. She had yet to recover from the humiliation of watching herself drop the crate onto the feet of the man before her years ago, still lost in the memory through her own mind now.

Fleur’s mind raced as she lay there, caught in the intense moment with Buggy. Her cheeks remained flushed, and she couldn’t shake off the embarrassment of what she had just witnessed in his memories.

Buggy’s gaze bore into her, and she felt a magnetic pull drawing her closer to him. She tried to speak, but words failed her, and she simply stared into his eyes, her heart pounding even faster. There was a shared history, a bond that had been forged long ago that he didn’t even remember, and it was now rekindling with this unexpected intimacy.

Buggy, ever the mischievous pirate, couldn’t resist the opportunity. With a sly grin, he whispered, “You seem quite interested in my memories, Fleur. Perhaps there are more you’d like to explore?” His fingers gently traced a line down her spine, sending shivers down her back.

Fleur’s breath caught in her throat, torn between the rush of curiosity and the vulnerability of the moment. As the first rays of dawn continued to fill the room, they found themselves on the precipice of something new, a chapter in their story that neither of them had anticipated.

As the tension between them grew, Fleur’s mind raced with conflicting emotions. She couldn’t deny her curiosity about Buggy’s memories, but she also felt a vulnerability she had never experienced before. Here they were, tangled together in the early morning light, discovering emotions new to the both of them.

Buggy’s fingers continued their gentle exploration, tracing patterns on her skin that sent electric sensations through her body. Her breath hitched as she leaned closer to him, their faces now mere inches apart. It was a dangerous dance they were engaging in, one that could change the course of their relationship forever.

With a voice filled with mischief, Fleur whispered back, “Maybe there are some memories I’d like to explore further, Captain.” Her words hung in the air like an invitation, a daring challenge.

Buggy’s eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and amusement. He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Time seemed to stand still as they hovered on the brink of a kiss, the world outside their embrace fading away.

Just as their lips were about to meet, a sudden, loud crash from the other side of the ship startled them both. They jerked apart, their hearts racing, their eyes wide with surprise. It was as if fate itself had intervened to keep them from that moment of passion.

Buggy quickly scrambled to his feet, his pirate instincts taking over as he rushed out of the room to investigate the noise. Fleur sat up in his bed and watched him, her cheeks flushed and her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The interruption had spared them from a kiss that could have changed everything.

Alone in the dimly lit room, Fleur couldn't help but reflect on the twists and turns of fate that had brought them to this moment. Her thoughts raced, and a sense of introspection settled in as she sat on the edge of Buggy's bed.

She traced her fingers along the fabric of the rumpled sheets, her mind replaying the near-kiss that had left her breathless. It wasn't just the physical closeness that had stirred her; it was the depth of their shared history that had come rushing back. Their time on Gold D Roger's ship had left an indelible mark on her, and now, after all these years, their paths had converged again. Yet he had no idea of the past they shared, and felt only disdain towards her younger self, as she had found out earlier.

Fleur had grown from an eager apprentice into a formidable pirate in her own right, but her feelings for Buggy had never truly faded. They had evolved, deepening into something she couldn't quite define.

The sound of footsteps approaching the room brought her back to the present. Buggy was returning from investigating the disturbance, and with each passing moment, the uncertainty of their future together weighed on her. She knew one thing for sure: their journey was far from over, and the emotions they had stirred within each other were a sign that their adventures would be filled with surprises, challenges, and the undeniable pull of destiny.

Fleur's introspective moment was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open, and Buggy reentered the room. His expression was a mix of annoyance and exhaustion, clearly having found the source of the disturbance on the ship.

"What a mess," Buggy grumbled, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him. "Some of the new recruits were trying to spar and ended up knocking over a stack of barrels."

Fleur couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as Buggy's focus seemed solely on the ship's affairs. He looked terribly handsome standing shirtless in the pale sunlight with his blue hair loose and his hat askew. She was sure she had sensed a tension between them earlier, but now he appeared to be trying to brush it aside as if it had never been real. She realized her mistake, he couldn't possibly be interested in her even after all these years. Their intimate interaction before only the effect of the early morning haze and their proximity.

As he approached her, their eyes briefly met, but his gaze quickly shifted away. It was as if he was determined to ignore the unspoken connection between them.

Fleur cleared her throat, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Well, Captain, it seems you've got quite the mess to deal with." She tried to sound nonchalant, masking the feelings that had swirled within her moments ago.

Buggy nodded distractedly, not meeting her gaze. "Yeah, I'll sort those idiots out later."

Awkward silence hung in the air, and Fleur fiddled with a loose thread on the bedspread, searching for something to say. "You know," she began hesitantly, "those memories I glimpsed from your past... they were quite something."

Buggy raised an eyebrow, still not looking at her. "Oh, those? Just old tales. Nothing special."

Fleur bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. The tension in the room had shifted from attraction to awkwardness, and it was clear that Buggy was determined to keep his guard up.

She rose from the bed, wandering about the large room admiring the plethora of decor. She ran her fingers across a dusty shelf as she took note of the various trinkets strewn over it.

Buggy’s eyes traced her every move as she made her way through his room. He was fascinated by the shape of her body in his clothes, it awoke a possessive nature hidden within himself and he found himself selfishly wishing that she would never have to find any clothes other than his.

“So,” Fleur began turning around to face him.

Buggy jerked his head back to the window so he wouldn’t be caught staring.

“Is there another bunk or something I'll be staying in once I join the crew? Or do I get to share a hammock in the barracks with the rest of them?” she asked.

Buggy winced at the idea of having her sleep anywhere other than his bed while still facing the window. He wasn’t sure where this attachment had come from, and how it had gotten such a hold of him in such a short period of time. He had never taken an interest in someone like he had her. Usually, he preferred to spend his free time away from anyone else, just so he could get a break from the act. Though maybe that was part of the reason he was so interested in Fleur. He hadn’t felt the need to play the part of the crazy clown captain around her since they’d been alone together. Not like it would have mattered if he had anyway, her devil fruit power would’ve granted her the insight to see past his facade. Thinking again of her devil fruit power, he realized she hadn’t been using it to read his mind. Yes, she had taken a trip down his personal memory lane before he woke up, but Buggy could tell that it came from a place of genuine curiosity rather than mistrust. He knew it wasn’t that he just hadn’t felt her reading his mind while in her presence, he could always feel it. She just simply hadn’t.

Forgetting the question she had asked entirely he turned back to her, her eyes flashing between his face and chest reminding him that he was still shirtless. He smirked at the flustered look on her face before asking, “Why haven’t you been reading my mind?”

Fleur's brows furrowed in confusion. His question was far from the topic she had been anticipating.

“I don't like to do it when I don’t need to. It’s- It’s not nice. It feels like breaking into someone’s house and reading their diary or something.” she explained, attempting to further convey her point with her hands.

Buggy raised an eyebrow. “And exploring my memories this morning, that was not the same as reading my diary?” he asked with a dry kind of humor.

Fleur grimaced and stepped backwards, her back hitting the wall. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to become small enough that she might just disappear. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry, really I am.” she began, with a pleading look in her eye. “It’s just that skin to skin contact heightens the effects of my abilities. and being as close as we were…” she trailed off, her face flushing as she remembered the position they had been in when they woke up. Catching her train of thought and picking up where she had left off she said, “When I'm in such an intimate position with someone it’s difficult to not find myself sinking into their mind.” she finished as quickly as she could without ever looking him in the eyes.

Buggy laughed as he made his way across the room to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her upper arms to offer a supportive squeeze. He leaned to the side and tilted his head so he was in her field of vision. He offered a gentle and good-natured smile before speaking.

“I’m not upset with you, I was just curious, and teasing you about your probing this morning.”

Fleur still couldn’t look him in the eyes. Between the guilt at having been caught this morning, and humiliation at the memory she had uncovered, coupled with the proximity of the very sexy and very shirtless man in front of her left her frozen in place. His hands settled on her arms were of no help to her situation either.

Not pleased with her refusal to look at him, Buggy stepped closer and grasped her chin with a tender hand. His thumb resting dangerously close to Fleur’s bottom lip, Fleur released it from between her teeth as he turned her face towards him, tilting it so her neck was craned to look up at him.

“I’m serious doll, you've got my wholehearted consent to read my mind just about anytime you’d like, as long as you’re not afraid of what you’ll find in there.” he said with a suggestive wink.

Fleur just gulped and stared up at him with wide eyes. Her mind had gone blank when he had grasped her chin and turned her to look into his face. She was intoxicated by the look in his eye. His makeup was smeared and faded from sleep, but it only added to the allure of his appearance.
She opened her mouth then closed it again, trying desperately to find any words to say other than the ‘fuck’ resting on the tip of her tongue.

Buggy frowned at the discomfort radiating through the girl standing in front of him. It was displayed in the tensing of her shoulders and the wide eyed fearful expression on her face below him.

When Buggy removed the hand holding her chin as well as the hand on her arm Fleur nearly stumbled forward with her body’s instinctual attempt to follow his hands. She pouted when Buggy stepped back and turned away from her as he started to walk to a dresser across the room.

“About your earlier question,” he started, waving a hand over his shoulder as he walked. “you can just stay in here for now. Since there are no open bunks or hammocks or anything else on the crew's floor.” he lied. There was plenty of room, he just wanted to keep her all for himself. “and I swear, nothing like tonight will happen again.” he continued as he picked through a drawer to find a shirt to wear. “I mean, we only ended up like that because I went to trade spots with you since I’m such a gentleman; and you grabbed my wrist and wouldn’t let me go. And I’m not sure if you know, but you’re quite the cuddler.” He said, finally finding the right striped tank top and pulling it over his head. “You can just take the bed from now on and I'll stick to the couch.”

“That’s stupid.” Fleur said, forgetting who she was talking to.

Buggy turned around with a dark look, no one had dared to call him stupid in years. “Who are you calling stupid?” he growled.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant it was a stupid idea. The bed is definitely big enough for the both of us, and if you’re worried about my cuddling we can just throw some pillows between us. Although… with the way you were talking after I bit you yesterday, I didn’t think you would mind.”

Buggy paled at the memory of the day before. He focused his efforts on keeping his dick in control as he remembered her hot breath on his neck, her hand on his thigh, and her teeth so close to his jugular. He cleared his throat and turned around again, making his way over to the vanity with his face paint and mirrors.

“Hah! Of course I don’t mind! I’m just trying to make sure you're comfortable.” he said in a jovial tone as he began to reapply the smeared makeup covering his face. “Go ahead and get yourself ready, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

Chapter Text

Fleur watched Buggy with a mix of amusement and curiosity as he busied himself with his makeup. His flustered reactions and attempts to downplay their close encounter only served to pique her interest further.

She took a step closer to him, closing the distance between them once more. "You know, Captain, you don't have to go through all this trouble to accommodate me," she said, her voice soft and sincere. "I appreciate your concern, but I really don't mind sharing the bed. "

Buggy paused in his makeup application, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. He couldn't help but smile, his earlier embarrassment dissipating. "Well, if you're sure," he replied, his tone less guarded. "But your idea of pillows as a buffer still stands if you change your mind."

Fleur chuckled, finding his playful side endearing. "Deal. Now, let's go get some breakfast before your crew devours it all."

They left Buggy's room together, the tension that had hung in the air earlier now replaced with a sense of camaraderie. As Fleur and Buggy made their way to the ship's mess hall, the morning sunlight bathed the deck in a warm glow. They arrived to find the crew already gathered, their raucous laughter and chatter filling the air. It was a lively scene, with pirates sharing stories of their latest exploits and indulging in hearty breakfasts.

Fleur felt a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as she stepped into the mess hall. She knew that Buggy had a reputation to uphold among his crew, and their intimate encounter earlier might complicate things.

As they found an empty spot at one of the long tables, Fleur noticed that the crew's conversations had quieted down. The pirates' eyes were on her and Buggy, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Buggy, who had been relatively jovial with Fleur earlier, suddenly adopted a different demeanor as he felt the eyes of his crew upon him. His face became stern, and he pushed her away from him, almost shoving her into the seat next to him. His tone turned curt as he barked orders to the crew.

"Oi, you lot, quit gawking and get back to your breakfast! We've got work to do today, and this ain't a vacation!" Buggy's voice carried a commanding tone, and he shot a withering glare at anyone who’s gaze dared to linger too long on Fleur.

Fleur felt a pang of hurt as Buggy's abrupt change in behavior became apparent. She had expected some level of distance in front of the crew, but his rudeness caught her off guard. It was as if the intimacy they had shared earlier had never happened.

Throughout breakfast, Buggy continued to treat her with disdain, making snide comments and belittling her in front of his crewmates. He criticized her actions, questioned her skills, and generally behaved as if she were a nuisance.

The crew watched with varying levels of amusement and discomfort, unsure of how to react to their captain's behavior. Fleur, on the other hand, struggled to maintain her composure. She knew that Buggy's behavior was likely a front to protect his reputation as a ruthless pirate captain, but it didn't make it any less hurtful.

Despite the harsh treatment, Fleur forced herself to eat her breakfast in silence, determined not to give Buggy the satisfaction of seeing her upset. She knew that navigating the complexities of whatever their relationship was within the crew would be challenging, but she was determined to prove herself as a valuable member of his troupe, even if it meant enduring his harsh words.

As breakfast came to an end, Buggy abruptly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. "Enough dawdling, everyone! Back to your duties!" he shouted, dismissing the crew.

Fleur watched as the pirates quickly dispersed, leaving her alone at the table with Buggy. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and disappointment. The man she had shared an intimate moment with just hours ago now seemed like a distant and unfriendly captain, and she couldn't help but wonder if their connection would ever resurface in the company of his crew.

As the last crew member left the mess hall, Buggy's stern expression finally softened. He turned toward Fleur, his eyes losing some of their hardness, but he was unsure how to break the tension that had settled between them. He cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke in a quieter tone.

"Look, Fleur, about the way I acted back there... It's just how things are, you know? Can't have the crew thinking I've gone all soft just because I invited you to join us," he muttered, his gaze avoiding her eyes.

Fleur had been quiet during Buggy's explanation, but now she couldn't hold back any longer. She leaned forward, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I understand perfectly, Captain. Can't let your crew see any vulnerability, right? Wouldn't want them to think you have any emotions under all that makeup."

Buggy's eyes shot up to meet hers, and he bristled at her mocking tone. "That's not what I—"

She cut him off, her voice icy. "Of course, Captain, your reputation is more important than treating your crew with respect. I'll make sure to remember that."

Buggy's frustration grew, and he stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. "Fine, have it your way, Fleur. If you don't like the way I run things, maybe you should reconsider being part of my crew!"

Fleur shot up from her seat, her eyes blazing with anger. "Maybe I will, Captain! Maybe I'll find a crew that respects its members instead of using them as pawns in some ridiculous show of power!"

The two pirates stood face to face, their emotions running high, neither willing to back down. It was a harsh argument that hung in the air, a battle of wills between a stubborn captain and a determined new crew member.

For a moment, they both stood their ground, locked in a battle of words and egos. The tension in the room was palpable, and it seemed as if the slightest spark could ignite a larger conflict.

As Buggy turned to leave, his jaw clenched in frustration, Fleur muttered under her breath, "Maybe I made a mistake joining your crew."

Buggy paused, his hand on the doorframe, and shot her a piercing look. Without saying a word, he stormed out of the mess hall, leaving Fleur behind, her anger and disappointment hanging heavy in the air. The unresolved tension between them now cast a shadow over their budding partnership, leaving both of them questioning whether they could ever find common ground.

Fleur watched Buggy's retreating figure, her anger still simmering. She couldn't believe how quickly things had soured between them after his invitation to join the crew. But she was determined not to let his rudeness get the better of her. With a sigh, she decided to find something to do on the ship to occupy her mind and temper.

She wandered through the corridors, her footsteps echoing in the empty passageways. As she explored the ship, she encountered various crew members going about their duties. Their gazes flickered towards her briefly, and she could sense a mix of curiosity and wariness in their eyes. It was clear that the crew was unsure of how to react to her presence, especially after witnessing the clash with their captain.

Fleur finally came across a group of pirates engaged in a lively card game in the crew's common area. They looked up as she approached, their expressions guarded but not openly hostile.

One of the pirates, a grizzled man with a patch over one eye, gestured to the empty seat at the table. "Care to join us for a game, lass?" he asked, his tone gruff but not unkind.

Fleur hesitated for a moment, her anger still fresh in her mind, but then she decided that some distraction might be a welcome relief. She took the offered seat and joined the game. The pirates introduced themselves as they played, and Fleur tried her best to fit in, even though her thoughts kept drifting back to her unresolved clash with Buggy.

As the card game continued, Fleur couldn't help but notice the camaraderie among the crew members. They laughed, teased each other, and shared stories of their adventures. It was clear that they had formed a tight-knit family, and she couldn't help but feel like an outsider.

One of the pirates, a woman with a mischievous grin, leaned over and whispered to Fleur, "Don't take the captain's behavior too personally, darlin. Buggy can be a real hothead, but he's not all that bad."

Fleur nodded, grateful for the words of encouragement. She realized that she couldn't judge the entire crew based on her clash with Buggy. Perhaps there were genuine friendships to be forged among these pirates, despite the rocky start.

As the card game continued, Fleur began to let go of some of her anger, finding solace in the simple act of playing cards and sharing stories with her new crewmates. While her relationship with Buggy remained strained, she was determined to make the best of her time on the ship and find her place among the crew, even if it meant facing the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead.

The card game continued well into the day, and as time passed, Fleur found herself enjoying the company of the crew members more and more. The initial tension had given way to laughter and camaraderie, and Fleur couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging she hadn't expected.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, one of the crew members, a jovial man with a bushy beard, suggested they break out a bottle of rum to celebrate their new crewmate. The idea was met with cheers, and soon enough, they were all gathered around a makeshift table, drinking and sharing stories.

Fleur had always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and it didn't take long for the rum to start affecting her. She found herself giggling at the crew's tales of their adventures and even sharing some of her own, her guard slowly coming down.

The grizzled pirate with the patch over his eye, whose name turned out to be Red-Eye Roger, raised his glass to Fleur. "To new friends and a fresh start," he toasted.

The crew echoed the sentiment, and Fleur clinked her glass with theirs, her cheeks flushed with both the alcohol and the warmth of their acceptance.

As the night wore on, Fleur became increasingly friendly and loose-lipped. She regaled the crew with stories of her own travels and adventures, often punctuated by bursts of laughter. She even found herself sharing some of her more embarrassing moments, much to the amusement of her new comrades.

At some point, Fleur's attention turned to Red-Eye Roger, who had been a particularly good sport throughout the evening. She leaned in closer to him, her words slurring slightly. "You know, Roger, you're not so bad for a one-eyed pirate."

Roger chuckled heartily. "Aye, lass, and you're not so bad yourself, even with that freaky Devil Fruit power of yours."

Fleur's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, you have no idea what I can do with my powers," she teased, wiggling her eyebrows with a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

The crew erupted in laughter at her remark, and Fleur couldn't help but join in. Despite the unresolved tension with Buggy, she was beginning to feel like part of the crew, and for the first time in a long while, she was allowing herself to let loose and enjoy the company of others.

As the night continued, the crew members shared more drinks, stories, and laughter, forging bonds that would carry them through their adventures on the high seas. Fleur may have entered the crew with a chip on her shoulder, but as the alcohol flowed and the night wore on, she was beginning to see the potential for genuine friendships among this rowdy and unpredictable group of pirates.

The crew's card game had taken a raucous turn as the night wore on. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the pirates continued to enjoy their newfound camaraderie. With a few empty rum bottles scattered around the table, their inhibitions were all but gone.

Someone had suggested that they spice up the game by playing a round of strip poker. It was a suggestion met with both enthusiasm and a fair share of teasing. Fleur, fueled by alcohol and a sense of daring, had eagerly agreed, thinking it would be a fun way to further bond with her new crewmates.

As the card game progressed, Fleur's luck began to wane, and she found herself losing hand after hand. She had already discarded her jacket and her boots, revealing more of her tattoos than she had initially intended. The crew members around the table were in high spirits, cheering and applauding each time a new article of clothing hit the pile in the center.

Fleur, however, was not taking her losses lightly. She leaned forward, her face flushed from both alcohol and frustration. "This is rigged! I swear it's rigged!" she protested, her finger jabbing accusingly at the deck of cards.

Red-Eye Roger, who had been on a winning streak, chuckled and patted her on the back. "Come on, lass, it's all in good fun."

Fleur huffed, her cheeks puffing out as she crossed her arms. "Easy for you to say when you're winning!" she retorted.

The game continued, and Fleur's losses piled up. She was now down to just her shirt and pants, her bare feet planted firmly on the floor. She had become increasingly animated and loud in her protests, drawing both laughter and eye rolls from the crew.

Just as she was about to discard her shirt in defeat, the door to the common area swung open, and Buggy walked in. He had been away dealing with some crew matters and had returned to check on the festivities.

His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the scene before him. The crew members were gathered around the table, cards in hand, with a pile of discarded clothing in the center. And there was Fleur, her shirt halfway off, her face flushed, and her hair mussed, bickering animatedly about the unfairness of her losing streak.

Buggy's expression ranged from shock to amusement as he watched the spectacle unfold. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Fleur's drunken frustration.

Fleur, oblivious to Buggy's presence, continued to argue her point with the crew, unaware that she was moments away from losing her shirt entirely. Her words slurred as she protested, "I can't believe I'm losing to a bunch of... pirates!" Her voice trailed off as she finally noticed the amused glint in Buggy's eye after following the gaze of those that had been watching the game.

She froze, her shirt still half off, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. The crew members erupted in laughter, and Fleur couldn't help but join in, albeit with a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

Buggy sauntered over to the table, his grin widening. "Seems like I've walked in on quite the party," he remarked, his tone teasing.

Fleur finally managed to compose herself, pulling her shirt back into place with a huff. She shot Buggy a defiant look. "Don't think for a second that I'm embarrassed," she declared, though the flush in her cheeks suggested otherwise.

Buggy chuckled and took a seat at the table, picking up a hand of cards. "Well, then, shall I join in and show you how it's done?"

The crew members cheered at the prospect of their captain joining the game, and Fleur, still a little tipsy, found herself caught between amusement and a lingering sense of rivalry with Buggy. As the card game continued, and the crew's laughter filled the room, Fleur couldn't help but wonder how this unexpected twist of events would affect her already complex relationship with her enigmatic captain.

As Fleur reluctantly resumed the card game, she realized that she still owed the crew a piece of clothing since she had lost the last hand. She sighed and, with a dramatic flourish, removed her (Buggy’s) shirt, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothing. The crew members erupted in cheers and applause, thoroughly entertained by the unexpected turn of events.

Buggy joined the game with a grin, taking the empty seat next to Fleur. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the scene. "Well, well, it seems I've walked in on quite the...revealing game," he remarked, his tone suggestive.

Fleur couldn't help but roll her eyes, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Don't get any ideas, Captain. It's all in the spirit of friendly competition."

The card game continued, and to everyone's surprise, including Fleur's, Buggy proved to be a less skilled player than she had anticipated. As the rounds passed, Fleur found herself winning more often than not, her smirk growing with each victory.

Buggy, his competitive spirit roused, couldn't tolerate being repeatedly outdone by Fleur. He leaned closer to her, his voice low and challenging. "You know, Fleur, it's not just luck that's on your side tonight. Are you sure you're not using your Devil Fruit powers to cheat?"

Fleur raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Cheating, Captain? I'm hurt by the accusation. I thought you'd appreciate a challenge."

Buggy's eyes narrowed playfully as he took a swig of rum. "Challenge, eh? We'll see about that."

As the game continued, the tension between them escalated. Fleur and Buggy engaged in a combination of flirting and arguing, their witty banter drawing both laughter and raised eyebrows from the crew members. It was a unique dynamic, one that neither of them could quite define.

Buggy leaned even closer, his breath warm against Fleur's ear as he whispered, "If you're not cheating, then I must admit, you've got a knack for reading my mind, sweet cheeks"

Fleur couldn't help but chuckle, her face dangerously close to his. "Oh, Captain, you give yourself too much credit. Maybe I'm just that good."

Their playful banter continued, fueled by the alcohol and the charged atmosphere. The crew watched in amusement as their captain and the new crew member engaged in their spirited battle of words and wits.

As the night wore on, the card game evolved into something more than just a contest. It became a test of wills, a dance between two strong personalities, and a reminder that beneath their differences and unresolved tension, there was a spark of something undeniable between Fleur and Buggy.

With each hand, the tension grew, and it became clear that Fleur was not the only one with some skill in the game. Buggy, it turned out, was a more formidable opponent than she had initially thought. As the rounds passed, Fleur won some hands, and Buggy won others, resulting in an equal number of articles of clothing in the center pile.

It was during one particularly intense hand that Buggy found himself facing a losing streak. He cursed under his breath as Fleur's smirk widened with each card she revealed. When she triumphantly laid down her winning hand, Buggy's face turned a shade of crimson that was not entirely due to the alcohol.

With a resigned sigh, Buggy stood up and began to remove his shirt, tossing it onto the pile of clothing beside Fleur's. The crew members erupted in cheers and whistles, thoroughly entertained by the sight of their captain joining in the game's revealing twist.

Fleur couldn't help but laugh as she watched Buggy strip, her own cheeks flushed from the excitement and the alcohol. "Well, well, Captain, it seems you're not invincible after all," she teased.

Buggy shot her a playful glare as he took his seat again, now shirtless. "Don't get too comfortable, Fleur. I'm just getting started," he replied with a sly grin.

As the game continued, Fleur and Buggy's playful banter and teasing took on a new level of intensity. With each hand, they both knew that they were risking more than just their pride. The crew members watched in amusement as the dynamic between the captain and the new crew member shifted into something neither of them could quite define.

It wasn't long before Buggy found himself in a losing position once again. Fleur's cards were simply too good, and she couldn't hide her triumphant grin as she revealed her winning hand.

With a resigned sigh, Buggy stood up and began to remove his pants, leaving him in just his undergarments. The crew members erupted in laughter and cheers, thoroughly enjoying the turn of events.

Fleur couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Buggy strip once more. "Captain, I must say, you're surprisingly cooperative when it comes to losing your clothes."

Buggy shot her a playful glare, his cheeks slightly flushed from both the alcohol and the playful atmosphere. "Oh, I'm just a gracious loser, baby." he replied with a wink.

The game continued, and as the night wore on, it became less about winning and more about the playful interaction between Fleur and Buggy. Their witty banter and teasing continued, drawing both laughter and raised eyebrows from the crew members.

As the card game reached its conclusion, Fleur and Buggy found themselves in a unique position. They were both in their undergarments, their rivalry having evolved into something more than just a contest. It had become a test of wills, a dance between two strong personalities, and a reminder that beneath their differences and unresolved tension, there was a spark of something undeniable between them.

As the card game continued, the crew members who had been enjoying the spectacle began to quietly slip away one by one, unnoticed by Fleur and Buggy. The atmosphere had shifted from raucous laughter to a more intimate and charged one, with only the dim light of the lanterns casting shadows on the table.

Fleur and Buggy were completely absorbed in their game, their witty banter and teasing reaching a fever pitch. With each round, their playful rivalry had grown more intense, and the crew's cheers and laughter had faded into the background.

It was during a particularly intense hand that fate seemed to intervene. Fleur's luck took a downturn, and Buggy's grin widened as he revealed his winning cards. Fleur let out a good-natured groan, realizing that she had lost once more.

With a determined look, she stood up, ready to remove the bindings around her chest as the final piece of clothing. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and competitiveness. She was not one to back down from a challenge, even when it came to something as unconventional as strip poker.

Buggy, attempting to remain sassy and cool before the scantily clad woman standing above him, raised an eyebrow as he watched Fleur. "Well, well, my dear, it seems you've finally met your match," he remarked, his tone filled with playful arrogance.

Fleur shot him a defiant look as she began to unwrap the cloth. "Don't celebrate too soon, Captain. The night's not over yet."

As the length of cloth fell away, revealing her bare chest, her nipples hardened at the shock of the cool sea breeze. Buggy's confidence wavered slightly. He had been playing it cool throughout the game, but the sight before him had an undeniable impact on both him and his friend in his trousers. He coughed, clearing his throat, and then declared, "You know what, Fleur? I think we can call this game a tie."

Fleur blinked in surprise. "A tie? But I thought you were the gracious loser," she teased.

Buggy chuckled nervously as he stood up, tossing her clothes back at her. "Well, I've had my fun, but I think it's time to call it a night."

Without waiting for Fleur's response, Buggy rushed off, leaving the card game behind and making his way to their now-shared bunk. His heart raced as he closed the door behind him and leaned his back against it, the sound of his own breath loud in his ears.

Fleur was left standing in the dimly lit room, her clothes in her hands, a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face. She couldn't help but wonder what had prompted Buggy's sudden change of heart, but one thing was clear: the night had taken an unexpected turn, and the unresolved tension between them had reached a new level of complexity.

Alone in the bunk, Buggy couldn't help but pace back and forth, his frustration and conflicting emotions swirling within him like a tempestuous sea. He had rushed off from the card game, throwing Fleur's clothes back at her and calling the game a tie, but it was far from a victory in his eyes.

He leaned against the wall, his thoughts consumed by the new crew member who had turned his world upside down. Fleur was unlike anyone he had ever encountered before. She was smart, unpredictable, and had an uncanny ability to get under his skin in a way that both infuriated and fascinated him.

Buggy's thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration and desire. Mostly desire. He couldn't deny the undeniable attraction he felt toward Fleur, but it was more than physical. It was the way she challenged him, the way she saw through his bravado and put him in his place. It was the way she had glimpsed into his memories, pulling memories that had been lost in the recesses of his mind.

But there was also frustration, a deep-seated frustration that came from not understanding her. He couldn't fathom why she had so easily agreed to join his crew, why she seemed to oscillate between flirtation and rivalry, and why she had chosen to uncover a memory from his past that he had long since forgotten.

As Buggy lay back on the bunk, his hands behind his head, he couldn't help but admit to himself that Fleur intrigued him in ways he couldn't fully comprehend. She was a puzzle, a challenge, and a temptation all rolled into one. And despite his best efforts to maintain control, she had managed to infiltrate the carefully constructed walls around his heart.

With a sigh of frustration, Buggy closed his eyes, knowing that the night was far from over, and the unresolved tension between him and Fleur was a storm that showed no signs of abating.

As Fleur picked up her scattered clothes and began to get dressed, her tipsy mind was a delightful jumble of thoughts and emotions. The card game with Buggy had taken an unexpected twist, leaving her with a blend of curiosity, amusement, and a growing attraction that was as clear as day (or night in this case).

While she had initially joined the game with a sense of playful competition, it had swiftly evolved into something more intriguing. The cheeky banter, the teasing, and the way Buggy had reacted when she revealed her winning hand had stirred something within her. There was undeniable chemistry between them, a spark that made her chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

As she clumsily slipped into her clothes, Fleur couldn't help but reflect on the enigmatic captain of the crew. Buggy was a complex and unpredictable man, and she found herself drawn to his quirky personality. His over-the-top confidence, his quick wit, and the way he had looked at her with a mix of desire and vulnerability had left a lasting impression.

But there was also a conflict that lingered in the back of her foggy mind. Fleur couldn't quite decipher Buggy's intentions. One moment, he seemed to flirt with her, and the next, he would pull away, as if he was playing some kind of pirate mind game. And then there were the memories she had glimpsed in his mind, memories that had left her with more questions than answers, she wanted to know what other of his memories her past self resided in.

As Fleur swayed her way back to Buggy's room, she couldn't deny the tipsy curiosity that propelled her forward. She wanted to understand him, to unravel the layers of his personality, and to explore the undeniable chemistry that was buzzing in the air like a swarm of tipsy fireflies.

But she also knew that the night had taken a whimsical turn, and the unresolved tension between them was as wobbly as her steps. Fleur was determined to navigate this tipsy voyage, to challenge the captain with her playful antics, and to discover the true depths of their connection, even if it meant stumbling along the way.

In her slightly inebriated state, Fleur stumbled through the dimly lit halls of the ship, her sense of direction completely skewed. The ship's layout seemed like a maze, and her laughter echoed eerily in the empty corridors.

She had lost track of time as she meandered aimlessly, trying to remember the way back to Buggy's room. Her steps were unsteady, and the flickering lanterns on the walls as well as the mind boggling circus decor only added to her disorientation. Fleur's laughter had turned into nervous giggles as the unfamiliarity of the ship's interior began to unnerve her.

As minutes turned into what felt like hours, Fleur's tipsy amusement gave way to a growing sense of unease. The shadows seemed to grow darker, and the ship's creaking noises took on a haunting quality in her ears.

She tried to retrace her steps, but every corridor looked the same, and the layout of the ship seemed to change with every turn she took. Panic began to bubble up within her as she realized she was well and truly lost.

Fleur's heart pounded in her chest as fear gnawed at her, sobering her up slightly. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized she was alone in the dark, winding halls of the ship.

Meanwhile, back in Buggy's room, he had grown increasingly worried. Fleur had been gone for longer than he had expected, and her absence was beginning to gnaw at him. He had initially dismissed it as her simply needing some time to herself, but now a sense of unease settled over him.

Buggy couldn't ignore his growing concern any longer. He quickly got dressed and left the room, his eyes scanning the dimly lit corridors for any sign of Fleur. His heart raced as he ran down one corridor after the next, his footsteps echoing through the ship.

As he turned a corner, he finally saw her, standing alone and trembling in the dim light. Relief washed over him as he approached her, but he couldn't resist teasing her about her condition.

"Well, well, Fleur," Buggy said with a mischievous grin as he reached her. "It seems someone can't hold their alcohol. Lost in the maze of the ship, are we?"

Fleur blinked in surprise, her drunken haze making it difficult to process what was happening. She offered a lopsided grin and replied, "I only had a few drinks… Okay, maybe more than a few. But it’s not my fault this place is so confusing!"

Buggy chuckled, his concern for her well-being mixed with amusement. "Come on, lightweight," he teased, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "Let's get you back to the room before you stumble into the ocean."

Fleur chuckled and leaned into his support, her arms loosely wrapped around his chest. As he led the way back to their room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence, even in her inebriated state.

Once they had returned to Buggy's room, he wasted no time climbing into bed, clearly exhausted from the events of the evening. He settled under the covers with a contented sigh, ready to drift into sleep.

However, Fleur was far from ready to call it a night. Her alcohol-induced energy was still coursing through her veins, and she found herself wide awake as she removed her (his) pants. She had forgotten to put her makeshift bra back on in her drunken haste to get dressed again so she was much more comfortable as she slipped into the bed as well.

As she settled beside Buggy, she couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness. She turned to him with a playful grin, her words slurred ever so slightly by the remnants of alcohol in her system. "Captain, are you really going to sleep already? The night is still young, and there's so much we could be doing."

Buggy, his eyes half-closed and a lazy smile on his face, mumbled in response. "Sleep's important, you know. We've got a long day ahead."

But Fleur was undeterred. She scooted a little closer to him, her body brushing against his as she continued to talk, her voice a sultry whisper. "Oh, I'm not suggesting anything too strenuous, Captain. Just a little late-night conversation. You and me, sharing secrets, getting to know each other better..."

Buggy couldn't help but chuckle at her persistence. He opened one eye to glance at her, his tone playful. "You're quite the night owl, aren't you? What's on your mind, Fleur?"

Fleur's fingers lightly traced patterns on the blanket as she continued to flirt shamelessly. "Oh, you know, just wondering about the man behind the legend. What makes you tick, Captain Buggy? What are your dreams and desires?"

Buggy couldn't deny the allure of her boldness, and her flattery fed right into his already inflated ego. He found himself indulging in the conversation despite his initial desire for sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow to face her, his expression thoughtful. "Dreams, huh? Well, I dream of treasure, of course. But there's more to life than just that."

As they engaged in their late-night conversation, Fleur's flirtatious banter continued to dance in the air between them. The night was far from over, and in the dimly lit room, two unlikely souls found themselves drawn together like the magnetic pull of tides to the moon.

As the night wore on, Fleur and Buggy's late-night conversation took a decidedly raunchier turn. Their words carried an undertone of playful teasing, and Fleur couldn't resist the temptation to get a bit more handsy.

She inched closer to Buggy, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. Her voice took on a sultrier tone as she asked, "Captain, have you ever been caught in a compromising situation with a beautiful woman on a deserted island?"

Buggy couldn't help but chuckle at her outrageous question. He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart, and his gaze locked onto hers. "Well, there was this one time," he began, his voice low and seductive, "when I found myself alone with a captivating woman, miles away from civilization..." he was lying of course, just weaving together a story so he could see more of the obvious lust written on her face.

Fleur's breath hitched as she felt the heat of his body so close to hers. Her fingers continued their playful exploration, tracing higher up his chest, dangerously close to his collarbone. "And what happened, Captain?" she whispered, her eyes locked onto his.

Buggy's hand found its way to Fleur's waist, his touch firm yet gentle as he drew her even closer. "Let's just say," he murmured, his lips nearly brushing against hers, "it was a night filled with unforgettable adventures."

Their conversation became a dance of desire and innuendo, each word and touch laden with electric tension. Fleur's fingers wandered further, her hand finding purchase in this loose hair. Buggy’s brain short circuited as her nails scratched against his scalp. His eyes rolled back in his head as he resisted the moan desperately trying to escape from his lips. He gripped her hip ever tighter and pulled her so their bodies were flush against each other. He could feel her breasts pressed against his chest as his hand found its way under her shirt so it rested on the small of her back, making sure there was no room for air between them.

In that stolen moment, their worlds converged, and the boundaries that separated them blurred into obscurity. Fleur leaned in closer, her intent clear as she moved to kiss Buggy. However, as their lips were about to meet, Buggy's demeanor shifted suddenly. He pulled back slightly, retracting his hands from her hot skin, a nervous look in his eyes.

"Fleur," he stammered, his voice betraying his uncertainty. "I think it's best if we just go to sleep now."

Fleur blinked in surprise, her face falling and hand leaving his head. Her earlier confidence now replaced with confusion and dismay. "Oh. I thought you were enjoying our conversation." She was embarrassed at the rejection and wished she had never tried to kiss him at all.

Buggy nodded, but his gaze remained uneasy. "I am! I was, but... it's late, and we have a long day ahead of us. We should get some rest." He was ashamed of himself, angry that he had nearly allowed himself to take advantage of the inebriated woman. He couldn’t believe he was so stupid as to believe she would actually be attracted to him. With his big red nose and terrible personality. What a joke.

Fleur couldn't hide her disappointment, but she reluctantly agreed, turning away from him and settling against her side of the bed. The spark of desire that had ignited between them seemed to flicker and fade, leaving an awkward tension in the air. As they lay in silence, the room grew still, and the night wore on, the promise of what could have been hanging heavily between them.

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the room as Fleur stirred awake. Her head throbbed with a relentless ache, and her mouth felt dry as though she had been parched in the desert. It didn't take long for her to realize that she was nursing a hangover.

As she groggily sat up in bed, memories of the previous night flooded back, although there were certain large gaps missing. She couldn't help but wonder if she had made a move on Buggy. Her cheeks flushed at the thought, and she decided to approach the topic cautiously.

"Uh, Captain," Fleur began, her voice a little more timid than usual, "did anything... unusual happen last night?"

Buggy, who was already awake and sitting at the edge of the bed, raised an eyebrow with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Unusual? Why do you ask, Fleur?"

Fleur's face turned even redder as she struggled to find the right words. "I mean, I might have had a bit too much to drink, and... well, I hope I didn't do anything embarrassing."

Buggy couldn't help but chuckle at her embarrassment. He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. "Embarrassing, you say? Well, now that you mention it, there was this one moment when you got a little... bold."

Fleur groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, shit, what did I do?"

Buggy couldn't resist teasing her. "Let's just say you were quite the charmer last night. You tried to do something, but I stopped you."

Fleur peeked out from behind her hands, her curiosity piqued. "What did I try to do?"

Buggy leaned in even closer, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You tried to kiss me."

Fleur's eyes widened, and she let out an embarrassed squeak. "I did? Oh, I'm so sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to..."

Buggy laughed, his laughter warm and reassuring. He reached out and gently patted her back. "It's okay, Fleur. You were just having some fun. Besides, I thought it was cute."

Fleur's embarrassment faded slightly as she realized that Buggy wasn't upset. She mustered a small smile and playfully rolled her eyes. "Well, I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself."

Buggy chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Not at all, my dear. It happens to the best of us. Now, let's get some breakfast in you and nurse that hangover. We've got a long day ahead, and we wouldn't want you stumbling around the ship."

As they made their way to the ship's dining area, Fleur couldn't help but notice a shift in Buggy's demeanor. He seemed distant again, and when they joined the crew for breakfast, he didn't engage in their usual playful banter.

Instead, Buggy maintained a polite but distant attitude, and his interactions with Fleur were marked by a touch of animosity. It was as though he wanted to keep their previous night's escapades a secret from the crew, and he didn't want to be associated with her in any affectionate manner.

Fleur felt a pang of confusion and hurt as she tried to understand the sudden change in Buggy's behavior. She had assumed that he got over this after their spat the previous day. She decided to mirror his attitude and kept her distance as well, masking her feelings behind a façade of nonchalance.

Amid the tension, Buggy shifted his attention to the rest of the crew, who were engaged in a lively discussion about their next destination and their upcoming performance. They would be doing a dress rehearsal today, making sure to pull out all the stops.

Buggy, dressed in his colorful clown attire, played the role of their ringmaster with flair. He interacted with the crew members, making exaggerated gestures and sharing jokes, embodying the persona of a crazy clown leading a crew of circus pirates.

He joked with the knife-thrower, complimented the acrobats on their skills, and even engaged in a mock sword fight with the crew's fencer. His antics brought laughter and amusement to the crew, but Fleur couldn't help but feel like an outsider watching the show.

As the meal concluded, Buggy's attention shifted back to Fleur briefly, but the animosity in his gaze remained. It was clear that he was maintaining the distance created earlier.

Fleur, on her part, continued to keep her emotions in check, determined not to let the sudden change in dynamics deter her from her goals. If Buggy wanted to maintain a façade of animosity, she could play along, but she wouldn't let it break her spirit.

The day continued with the crew going about their tasks and preparing for their performance. Fleur found herself engaging in conversations with some of the crew members, learning more about their acts and their lives on the ship.

She marveled at the diverse talents of the crew, from fire breathers to jugglers, and even a contortionist.

Things with the crew became more animated as the day wore on. Fleur was chatting with a particularly flirty member of the crew named Marco, who happened to be the ship's fire-breather. His charming demeanor and playful banter provided a welcome distraction from the tension between her and Buggy.

Marco leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eye, as he asked, "You know, Fleur, I've never met anyone quite like you. You're not just beautiful; you've got a certain spark about you."

Fleur couldn't help but chuckle at his compliments, appreciating the attention. "Well, Marco, you're not so bad yourself. I've never seen fire-breathing quite like yours." Fleur had never seen fire breathing at all before, so her compliment wasn’t too great.

As their conversation continued, Buggy observed from a distance, his jealousy-fueled inner turmoil growing. He couldn't help but feel a pang of possessiveness as he watched Fleur engage with Marco. He had wanted to create distance between them, but seeing her share a moment with another crew member stirred something within him.

Unbeknownst to Fleur and Marco, Buggy's eyes remained fixed on them, his thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He couldn't deny that he had developed feelings for Fleur, but he was also determined to maintain his image as the eccentric and unpredictable captain of the Buggy Pirates.

As the day progressed, Fleur continued to interact with Marco, and the crew's preparations for their next performance intensified. Buggy busied himself with the preparations as well, but the sight of Fleur and Marco chatting and laughing together lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his inner fire.

As evening approached, the crew gathered for their performance, and Fleur took her place among them, ready to showcase her own talents as a skilled illusionist. The audience gathered to watch the circus-themed pirates' eccentric and captivating show, and the atmosphere was filled with excitement and anticipation.

Buggy, dressed in his flamboyant clown attire, took center stage as the ringmaster, leading the crew through their acts with his trademark flair. He performed his own eccentric tricks, drawing laughter and applause from the audience of crewmen who wouldn’t be on stage this time.

During the performance, Fleur's illusions dazzled the crowd, and her skills were met with awe and applause. She had an undeniable talent for captivating an audience, and it was evident that her presence had become an integral part of the crew's performance.

As the show reached its grand finale, Buggy and Fleur found themselves on stage together, their roles intertwined in a mesmerizing display of illusions and acrobatics. Their chemistry was undeniable, and even in the midst of their animosity, their onstage partnership was nothing short of captivating.

The performance concluded with thunderous applause, and the crew took their final bows, basking in the adoration of their audience, even if it was the people they ate breakfast with daily. But beneath the applause and cheers, the tension between Buggy and Fleur remained, their unresolved feelings simmering beneath the surface.

As they retreated backstage, Buggy couldn't help but feel a sense of longing and jealousy. He had created a rift between them, and now he couldn't help but wonder if it was a mistake. But pride and a desire to maintain his image as the unpredictable captain kept him from addressing his true feelings.

Fleur, on the other hand, remained unaware of the turmoil brewing within Buggy. She had her own pride to protect and was determined not to let his aloofness affect her. As she continued to interact with the crew, particularly Marco, she couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship had shifted, and she couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same between her and the eccentric captain of the Buggy Pirates.

The evening's performance had left an electric energy in the air, and as the crew dispersed to celebrate their successful show, Fleur found herself once again in conversation with Marco. The flickering lanterns and the sounds of laughter created a festive atmosphere on the ship.

Marco leaned against a barrel, a playful smile on his face as he said, "You were amazing out there, Fleur. I've never seen someone handle illusions like that. You have a truly unique gift."

Fleur blushed at the compliment, grateful for the distraction from the unresolved tension with Buggy. "Thank you, Marco. Its all thanks to my devil fruit powers, but that means a lot coming from someone as talented as you.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and Marco's flirty charm was hard to resist. Fleur, still nursing her wounded pride from her earlier interaction with Buggy, found herself enjoying the attention.

Meanwhile, Buggy was again watching from a distance, his jealousy festering like a storm within him. He had wanted to create space between him and Fleur, but seeing her engage with Marco in such a playful manner stirred emotions he hadn't anticipated. He couldn't deny the connection he felt with her, but his stubbornness and desire to maintain his unpredictable image kept him from approaching her.

As the night wore on, the crew continued to celebrate their success, they laughed, shared stories, and even engaged in a friendly game of cards.

For some unknown reason, Buggy couldn't seem to escape the sight of Fleur and Marco bonding. The consequences of his actions were beginning to weigh on him.

As the crew members began to retire to their bunks one by one, Fleur and Marco continued their animated conversation, oblivious to Buggy's watchful eyes. The deck of the ship grew quieter, and the lanterns cast flickering shadows.

Finally, with a yawn, Marco stretched and stood up. "Well, Fleur, as much as I'd love to stay and chat all night, I should get some rest. We've got another busy day ahead of us. …Unless of course, you’d like to join me?”

Fleur smiled warmly at him, genuinely appreciating the connection she had found with a fellow crew member. "You're right, Marco. Thanks for the company and the distraction. But I think it’s best if we both retire to our separate bunks for now."

With a wink, Marco bid her goodnight and disappeared below deck. Fleur however, remained, her thoughts a mess. She had enjoyed the evening, without a doubt, but what about Buggy.

Buggy, was still watching from the shadows, and felt yet another pang of jealousy and rage. At this point pushing Fleur away has been a decided mistake. He had pushed her into the arms of another man, and that just wouldn’t slide.

As Fleur stood alone on the deck, she couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same between her and the enigmatic captain of the Buggy Pirates. A shadow may have yet been cast over their future interactions…or so she felt.

As Fleur made her way back to the bunk, that she now shared with Buggy, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of contentment and confusion. Her evening with Marco had been pleasant, but it had also highlighted the growing tension between her and the unpredictable captain of the Buggy Pirates.

Buggy had been distant and aloof for reasons she couldn't quite understand, and it left her with a sense of frustration. She had joined this crew on his invitation, and yet, his behavior had left her feeling like an outsider.

Upon entering their bunk, Fleur found Buggy sitting on it, his face unreadable in the dim light. She cleared her throat, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Captain, are you... okay?"

Buggy's response was immediate and explosive. He jumped to his feet, his face contorted with jealousy and anger. "Am I okay? Am I okay, you ask?" His voice was sharp and cutting, filled with a rage she had never seen from him before.

Fleur took a step back, her confusion growing. "I don't understand Captain, what’s going on.”

Buggy's jealousy-fueled rage seemed to reach its peak as he shouted, "You were flirting with Marco all night, Fleur! Don't think I didn't see it! You're supposed to be a member of my crew, and here you are cozying up to another man!"

Fleur's eyes widened in disbelief. "Cozying up? Captain, we were just talking. I didn't do anything wrong."

Buggy's frustration seemed to boil over as he took a step toward her, his face mere inches from hers. "You don't get it, do you? You're mine, Fleur. You belong to me and this crew. You can't just go off and flirt with whoever you want."

Their faces were now dangerously close, their breaths mingling in the charged atmosphere. The tension was palpable, and neither seemed willing to back down.

Fleur couldn’t believe the accusations Buggy was throwing at her. She had joined this crew to be a part of something bigger, not to become the target of the captain’s jealousy.

“Jealous much, Captain?” Fleur retorted, her voice laced with frustration. “I thought you were above such petty emotions.”

Buggy’s eyes blazed with anger as he shot back, “Oh, I am. But it seems you’re doing everything in your power to test my patience.”

Their words were like daggers, slicing through the pressure growing between them like butter. The room crackled with energy as they stood locked in a battle of wills.

Fleur’s anger and confusion were matched only by Buggy’s jealousy and frustration. In the midst of their heated argument, Buggy did something unexpected. He grabbed Fleur's face roughly and kissed her, a passionate and possessive kiss that left them both breathless.

For a moment, their fight was forgotten as their lips met, a fiery intensity burning between them. A kiss that defied every boundary, every qualm.

As their lips finally parted, Fleur's breathless voice broke the silence. "What was that?"

Buggy's expression had softened, and his voice was tinged with a mix of regret and longing. "I don't know, Fleur. I just... couldn't stand seeing you with someone else." he looked past her, then down to ground “I don’t know why”

Their argument had taken an unexpected turn, although everything unresolved remained between them. But in that stolen moment, they had acknowledged something deeper, something that neither of them could deny.

The night had been filled their relationship with turmoil, but it had also brought them to a crossroads. The path ahead was uncertain, but the kiss they had shared was.

Fleur and Buggy, both overwhelmed by the turbulent emotions within, found themselves drawn back to each other. As they tried to discuss their situation maturely, their words faltered, and their gazes locked once more.

So they did what felt at that moment like the only right thing to do. Their lips met in a fierce and passionate kiss, a tumultuous mix of emotions neither wanted to address. It was as if their bodies refused to obey their rational minds, and they succumbed to the intoxicating pull of each other's presence.

Their kisses were heated and relentless, a chaotic dance of tongues and teeth. Each a battle and an embrace, a collision of fiery emotions that refused to be tamed. It was a testament to the intensity of their connection, a connection they could no longer deny.

But as their lips finally parted, if only for breath, their eyes met. They were trapped in a vicious cycle, one that both felt like they shan’t and can’t ever break free from.

Fleur's voice was a husky whisper as she spoke "W-we can't keep doing this," she said unable to look him in the eye, a note of frustration weaving itself into her tone.

Buggy's gaze was intense, though his eyes paid no attention to the floor as her did, for they seemed to only want to look at her. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "I know," he admitted, his voice strained. "But honestly, I can't help myself when you're around."

Hanging heavily in the air between them was all that was left unresolved. They were caught in a passionate whirlwind that refused to let them go, leaving both parties bewildered and tormented.

As their passionate struggle continued, their hands roamed each other’s bodies with a fervor that bordered on desperation. Fleur’s fingers tangled in Buggy’s disheveled hair, pulling him closer.

Buggy’s hands traced the curves of Fleur’s body, igniting a trail of sparks along her skin. A silent declaration of his inner turmoil. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t quench the thirst for her skin against his, much like a dying man in the desert would for not but a cup of water.

Their lips crashed together once more, and their tongues danced in a wild, unrestrained frenzy. Now it was a battle for dominance, a fight for control that neither was willing to surrender.

Fleur’s nails dug into Buggy’s back, leaving red marks in their wake. Her breath was ragged, and her heart pounded in her chest as she clung to him, unable to break free from the prison that was his lips.

Buggy’s hands slid under the hem of Fleur’s shirt, his fingers tracing the contours of her skin with a maddening gentleness. He felt the warmth of her body beneath his touch, and it only fueled his desire for her.

Her boobs began boobing breastly against his chest. All was in this moment, though it could be better, and both were on the verge of surrender.

As their kisses led them closer to the bed, Buggy’s usually confident demeanor was replaced by a feverish urgency. He felt as if he couldn’t contain the torrent of emotion within him.

With each kiss, he peppered Fleur’s lips and neck with fervent declarations. “Fleur,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you. How you drive me crazy every time you’re near.”

His lips found their way to her earlobe, and he nibbled it gently before continuing, “You make me lose control, and it’s driving me insane.” His voice was a desperate plea as he confessed his desires.

Their bodies tumbled onto the bed, and Buggy hovered over Fleur, his eyes burning with a raw intensity. “I can’t hold back any longer,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “I want you, Fleur, more than anything.” Fleur could do nothing but moan in reply, his mouth never leaving hers long enough for her to get a word out.

That solitary moan was enough to craze him. His kisses became more urgent, with each touch of their lips. Their bodies reached levels of closeness thought previously unattainable by sex enthusiasts across the four seas, their desire reaching its peak. He switched their positions, pulling her into his lap and sitting up so he would have better access to grope her soft ass meat.

“Fleur, baby,” he gasped between kisses, “you’re the fire that’s been burning inside me. I can’t resist you any longer. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Buggy…” Fleur moaned as his lips once again found their way to her throat, the crazed movements of his mouth driving her wild. She was overwhelmed by his words, they were exactly what she thought she would never get the chance to hear. Her mind scrambled for something to say in response to him as he left dark marks on her collarbone. “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted you since I was ten.” she breathed, too far gone in the clutches of lust to realize the gravity of her words.

But Buggy wasn’t.

Chapter Text

He leaned back, searched her flushed face and dilated pupils looking back at him. Her lips were dark red and swollen from the intensity of their kiss and her face and neck were smeared with his lipstick.

“What?” he asked, so plainly and sharply Fleur would have no idea he had a raging boner if she couldn’t feel it pressed up against her ass.

Realizing her mistake Fleur clapped her hands over her mouth. “I mean- I mean I uh…” she said, her words muffled by her hands as she struggled to find a way to back track her statement.

Fleur's cheeks flushed even deeper as she fumbled for an explanation, her hands still covering her mouth. Buggy's intense gaze bore into her, his expression a mix of surprise and growing concern. He remained silent, waiting for her to clarify her slip of the tongue.

"I didn't mean it like that," she stammered, her voice muffled by her hands. "I just meant I've known you for a long time, Buggy, from when we were both on Rodgers' ship together."

Buggy's eyes widened with realization, and his grip on her thighs tightened, his earlier passion now replaced by a mixture of anger and hurt. "You've known me all this time, and you never told me?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy air of desire that had filled the room just moments ago.

Fleur felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She had expected this revelation to have consequences, but she hadn't anticipated the intensity of Buggy's reaction. "I... I didn't know how to tell you," she admitted, her own voice trembling. "I thought it might change things between us. I couldn’t handle you just thinking of me as a brat again."

Buggy released her and pulled away slightly, his expression conflicted. "Fleur, you should have told me the truth. We’re not children anymore. Secrets should have no place between a captain and a member of his crew. Hell I mean it’s been, what? Fifteen years?”

Regret gnawed at Fleur as she watched the distance growing between them. It hurt her to hear him refer to her as just another member of his crew.

“I’m sorry.” she murmured in a small voice, avoiding his gaze boring into her. She made to remove herself from his lap, thinking that the moment was over, she had ruined it.

“Did I say I was done with you yet?” Buggy asked. Grasping Fleur’s hips he returned to her previous position, her proper position. The position Buggy had decided he’d like to be seeing her in a lot more often.

Fleur stilled as he put her back after her attempt to escape. Straddling his thighs, her core was dangerously close to his own. Just a few more inches and she could be grinding herself against his cock, which she noted hadn’t softened in the slightest. Not sure where her hands belonged anymore she made fists in the fabric of her pants, his pants, covering her thighs. His behavior was so confusing she wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of this she had whiplash.

“No, Captain Buggy.” she replied, looking down to avoid his gaze.

That just wouldn’t do, not for Buggy. He was angry at the woman on his lap, but no less horny. Perhaps his anger even made him hornier than appropriate. He was going to have some fun with this.

“You’re right,” he said grasping her chin and yanking her head back up to look at him. His voice and face were menacing as a wicked smile made its way across his face. “because I seem to remember a little brat who dropped a case of gunpowder on my feet, and never apologized. In fact! It’s fresher in my mind than it should be, or was, isn’t it now?”

“I’m sorry?” Fleur answered with a confused look on her face. Where was he going with this?

“Hmmm, I'm not sure if sorrys gonna cut it anymore. I seem to remember a few other instances where a brat crossed me without remorse. I’m sure you’d find more if you’d like to take the time to walk down my memory lane again, but I'm also sure youd remember all by yourself anyhow.” he said, thumbs beginning to rub circles on her hip bones. “I think I also caught her staring at my ass in the pants you happen to be wearing right now.” When he said the last sentence his hands slid across the fabric of said pants to find purchase on her plump ass, pulling her forward so her core rested right on top of his member.

“Tell me Fleur, what did you think when I offered them to you, did ya think about my ass?” he queried, subtly grinding against her.

Fleur shuddered against him when he pulled her closer. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into his back again.

“Yes.” she answered breathlessly pressing her hips against him in a desperate attempt for more friction.
He obliged her momentarily, before drawing his hips back and holding her in place.

“That’s not very nice is it? Lusting over someone who is completely oblivious?” he said with an exaggerated look of offense on his face.

“Oh you’re one to talk.” Fleur replied, finally gaining her confidence back after figuring out his game. She leaned in close to him, one hand making its way to the side of his face. She decided to indulge herself and take him up on his offer from a few day ago, and with just a peek into his mind she struck gold.

She leaned in close towards the side of his face she wasn’t holding, bringing her mouth close enough to his ear that he could feel her breath ghosting over it. “As if you didn’t have your dick in your hand while trying not to come too loud to the thought of my teeth on your neck and my hand on your thigh.” her confidence grew with every word she said and every tremor she felt from the man beneath her. “There I was, nearly crying in pain, and all you could think about was whether or not that’s what I would sound like when you had your dick buried deep inside me.”

Buggy thrusted into her heat at the sound of her crude words whispered so softly into his ear.

“Did you like it, Buggy? Did you like it when I was in pain? Or did you like it more when I inflicted pain on you?” She pulled the hair on the back of his head as she said the last part. She brought her lips down to his exposed throat and ghosted them over the spot her teeth had been only days ago. “Did you want me to bite you again Captain?” she asked, her sultry voice taking on a mocking tone.

Buggy couldn’t handle it anymore. A desperate moan escaped him as he turned his head to smash his lips against hers, a successful attempt to stop the flow of sinful words that nearly brought him to the edge. But an unsuccessful attempt at stopping the heat from flowing to the pit of his stomach and stoking the fire already burning.

What was this woman doing to him? All previous anger had been forgotten with her words. Just as he thought he had the upper hand she had reduced him into a puddle, a writhing moaning mess that wanted nothing less than what she offered. He wanted her to keep saying filthy words to him, he wanted to hear her praise him more, he wanted Fleur to degrade him until he was crying and begging for release.

“Please!” he pleaded with her, unsure of what he was asking for but knowing he needed it more than the blood rushing through his veins.

Fleur was drunk on power, high on the sight of the man she dreamed of for years turned to a pathetic mess under her ministrations. She cooed and leaned back, regretfully removing herself from his member for the sake of the game. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, her nails sliding against his scalp making him shudder.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you need from me.” she purred.

“I- I don't know, I just- I need you. I need you to touch me.” His hand made their way underneath her shirt and graced their way up her sides leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I need you to take care of me, I need you to hurt me, I need you to praise me, I need you in any way you’ll give yourself to me, just, please.”

She smiled with a soft look in her eye, pressing down on his shoulders so he was laid back on the bed. She took her time in removing her shirt, leaving her torso bare. She brought her hands to her chest grasping her own breasts and gasping as she pinched her nipples.

Buggy could only pant at the sight above him. He couldn’t tell if she was an angel or a devil, an angel would never be grinding herself on him and looking so sinful as she touched herself. On the other hand, a demon could never have the serene ethereal glow that surrounded her, leaving him breathless.

“I’m not gonna give you anything Buggy,” Fleur said with more composure than she thought possible as her hands left her chest only to slide up his to brush her thumbs over his nipples. “I’m going to take, I’m gonna take everything I want from you. Will you let me Captain? Will you let me take my pleasure from you?”

“Yes, yes yes yes yes.” Buggy moaned and stuttered with each drag of her hips. He could feel his pants growing damp, a combination of his own precum and how wet she was.

And boy was she wet. She wore no underwear so both pairs of Buggy’s pants that separated them were drenched. She could feel herself practically dripping as he cried out under her.

“Please! Please please use me, it’s all I want. I’ll be good for you I swear, take everything I have and more. Just don’t stop, please god don’t stop”

He threw one of his arms over his face to cover his eyes, every sense he had was overwhelmed with her. He could hear her labored breathing, smell her cunt, her taste still lingered in his mouth, and every part of his body was on fire from her touch. The sight of her was just too much to handle on top of all that.

Fleur finally understood why he had forced her to look at him every time she had attempted to avoid his gaze. She needed his eyes on her, she needed the wanton lust and admiration in them as he watched her grind herself to completion on his lap. She knew what she had to do, she brought her hand to his throat, putting pressure on the sides, not enough to limit his breath, but enough to make him jerk his hips under her.

“Look at me.” she commanded darkly.

Buggy couldn’t resist her request while she had her hand on his throat, thumb against his jugular. He opened his eyes and just about lost it at the sight of her. Her eyes wide and blown out, lips red from his makeup, hair a mess from his hands having been tangled in them. She was a vision of beauty.

He surged upwards to press his lips against hers, locking them together with a ferocious grin and a hand in her hair. He couldn’t help what happened when she tightened her hand on his neck and bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw a drop of blood. He dropped his head to her shoulder with a shout as he came in his pants with a shudder.

Fleur ceased her movements for the sake of petting the hair of the formidable captain while he whimpered with his forehead resting on her collarbone. She couldn’t deny it was hot, she couldn’t blame him for his thoughts when she had been doing the same. There was no doubt she had been doing it intentionally, at least a little bit. There hadn’t really been a necessity for her to bite him, other than how tasty he looked. Now though, with him coming in his pants without ever having a hand near his dick, he looked tastier than ever, Fleur brought a gentle hand to his chin and gave him the sweetest peck on the lips. She noted the tear tracks carving their way through the paint on his face and suddenly became very guilty.

“Buggy… What’s wrong? I thought you were enjoying yourself, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.” She whispered frantically, holding his face and trying to swipe the tears away with her thumbs. She was trembling with the combination of fear and guilt, she had never meant to hurt him, and now she had ruined it already. First she had ruined it with her idiotic proclamation of having wanted him since she was ten (what a way to kill the vibe) and now this! Fleur was ready to go jump off the ship to protect this fragile world from more of her meddling.

Buggy shook his head and pressed his face into her chest, wrapping his arms around her torso tightly. He was humiliated, the flashiest captain in the east blue just came in his trousers from some grinding, heavy petting, and dirty talk, and now he was a crying mess. He hadn’t intended on any of this tonight, he had intended to give Fleur the silent treatment after her encounter with Marco. He had intended to kiss her just the once, so he could know what heaven felt like incase he never made it. He had intended to punish her for lying to him. He had intended to have her crying and coming in his lap after begging for release. But she kept turning things around on him. And now here she was, pitying her poor, poor captain because he couldn’t keep it together long enough for her to reach her peak first, which Buggy believed a lady always should.

Fleur made her way to get off him, attempting to break away from the arms about her waist. She couldn’t handle him pretending she hadn’t ruined everything between them.

Buggy didn’t like that. He wouldn’t allow her to leave just because he had ruined it and gone all pathetic. Here she was thinking he didn’t even enjoy himself because of his pitiful behavior.

“Don’t.” was all he could choke out, his hold on her unrelenting. He still needed time to recover and come down from the high she had taken him to. She had him in a trance. If Fleur told him to get on the floor and lick her boots like a dog he would have to comply with joy. He would do anything she asked, except let her go.

“Buggy I’m so sorry, I really am, I never meant-” Fleur started to ramble before she was cut off.

“Stop saying that.” Buggy grumbled with a deep breath, before fully reclining on the bed leaving her draped across him. His fingers danced across her back attempting to memorize every inch of her exposed skin with their path.

“Stop acting stupid. You know I enjoyed myself. I came in my fucking pants for clown jesus’s sake.” Buggy chided her in a blank tone, his feeble attempt at masking his embarrassment.

“But you were cry-” Fleur was interrupted again by a deep sigh.

“Because it was good, Fleur! Because I liked it when you talked to me like I was your little bitch, alright? I’m sorry I couldn’t hold out, I just- This is my first- I’ve never- Ughhhh. Ya’know?” Buggy couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too vulnerable, too humiliating for a badass captain such as himself to admit to being a virgin.

The meaning behind his incomplete statements wasn’t hard for Fleur to guess. It made her heart swell with pride, as did his earlier statement about how good she made him feel. She scooted over slightly, so that she was back on the bed laying on her side. Her body was still pressed against his and her arm draped over his chest, tracing patterns on his disappointingly still present shirt.

“Really Captain? No fair maiden has tickled your fancy before me?” She teased lightheartedly.

Buggy kept his gaze on the ceiling as one hand reached out to grab Fleur’s closest thigh and bring it to rest on his midsection, dragging her impossibly closer. He had grown addicted to her touch. Before she came around he had failed to realize how little he actually received physical contact of the nonviolent variety. She had opened a new door for him and he was in the process of removing it from the hinges so she could never close it again.

“No maiden has tickled my anything before you.”
he answered without a smile in his voice. He was still lost in his shame and high on her touch.

Fleur propped herself up on her elbow so she could look at his face. His eyes were vacant and just staring up at the ceiling. Laying a hand on his cheek she could see the torrent of emotions in his mind that he was on the verge of drowning in. He was ashamed, embarrassed, and afraid of losing her and Fleur couldn’t stand it. She pressed a kiss to his nose in an attempt to distract him from his thoughts. And distract it did. Within an instant his eyes were ablaze with rage.

“What the fuck was that Fleur?” he growled.

“A kiss? I thought it was pretty obvious but I can give you another if you need an example.” She said naively. He stopped her with a palm in the middle of her face when she leaned in to kiss his nose again.

“Why? Why would you want to kiss me there? You don’t have to pretend you like it, or that you don't think it’s hideous Fleur. I’d rather have painful honesty than any attempt at niceties because you pity me and my ugly face.”

“I don’t think it’s hideous.” She said, her voice muffled by his palm. She pulled at his wrist to dislodge his hand so she could continue more clearly. “I never did think it was hideous, or that you were ugly. I always thought you were cute, nose or not.”

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it Fleur. I thought you were done lying to me? Or was that another lie too? We both know that if Shanks was here you’d be bouncing on his dick and pushing me overboard.” He said, pushing her away with a shove much gentler than he would’ve anyone else talking about his nose. His own insecurities were rushing their way out of his mouth. He knew it wasn’t fair, she hadn’t even said a word about Shanks this whole time. But he couldn’t help the disappointment filling when he said the words and felt the heavy truth within them. No one had, or would ever choose him over Shanks. Not even Fleur.

Fleur scoffed and allowed him to push her off, letting the momentum propel her as she stood from the bed to collect her discarded shirt. His words hurt her. She knew it was him projecting his own feelings onto her but it hurt. She didn’t want to believe he could think so low of her, as if she was some slut searching for the biggest and baddest pirate to let them get their dick wet in her. She was mad.

“Fuck you Buggy. I never wanted Shanks. He was kind to me, he always used my name, he helped me when I needed help! But I never wanted him the way I wanted you. He tried to get me to join his crew that day in Loguetown but I refused; because you were already gone and I didn’t want to be a part of anybody else’s crew. I looked for your wanted posters on the wall of every tavern I went to and celebrated alone when your bounty went up because I was so happy for you. I even tried to find you! I would hear that you were on some island and I would haul ass to get there, doing anything I could to get on a ship heading that direction and you were always gone by the time I arrived. So don’t act like I’m some shallow bitch when you’re the only man I’ve thought about for years. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than when Kuro told me to find out who’s following, and I saw it was you. I convinced Kuro to fire the first shot so I could be sure you’d come fuck them up! I was ready to die on that ship as long as it was by your hands, Buggy. So no, I don’t give a singular fuck about your nose, Buggy, it’s your shitty fucking attitude I don’t like.”

Fleur was out of breath by the time she finished her spiel and stalked out the door, taking care to slam it on the way out to emphasize her point.

And Buggy was left alone once again to ruminate on her words.

Chapter Text

Buggy held his head in his hands after Fleur left the room. He had fucked up bad. He couldn’t decide what he hated himself more for, believing a relationship could’ve worked out between them, or for sabotaging it so there’s no chance it ever could.
He couldn’t blame himself for blowing up on people when they insulted his nose onstage, but she had done nothing of the sort.

He remembered her from Gold Roger’s ship of course, it became glaringly obvious after she had said it to him. He found himself reminiscing, he hadn't thought about the brat she used to be since the execution.

Shanks has always scolded Buggy for being so mean to Fleur, the apprentice who was only a few years younger than the two of them.

“She’s trying her best Buggy, she’s not as strong as the rest of us so cut her some slack.” he would say.

But Buggy had known better. That little brat had it out for him. She was fully capable of doing her tasks, but she made it a point to drop crates on his feet whenever she passed him. She would also spill things on him, hit him with various ropes and items she was transporting across the deck, and he would often catch her glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. If he was an honest man, he would admit that he had been freaked out by his creepy little crewmate. However, Buggy never once claimed to be an honest man, so he made a show of being mean to the brat so she wouldn’t dare to kill him in his sleep or do something else outrageous. He wouldn’t have put something like that past her back then. Though nowadays she seemed mellower than her pre-teen self ever had. Maybe that was why he hadn’t realized it was her.

Fleur had been a rambunctious girl, Gold Roger had found her in a seedy bar, fighting older boys in a ring for money. What with getting a cut of all the bets placed for or against her, and there being only two times she ever lost, she had a pretty good gig going in all honesty. The first time she ever lost was when she had been paid to throw the match. The second had been when Gold Roger came into the bar.

He hadn’t placed a bet all evening, just watched her scrawny ass beat up all the bar patrons sons. This was how most of her fights began, a patron would get too loud and proud and the bartender would initiate the bet. He would point her out in her corner booth where she sat drinking her glass of milk and inform the inebriated patron that his daughter (Fleur was not his daughter, but it added legitimacy to their pseudo-con) could best any boy under the age of 18 in a classic round of fisticuffs. The patron would scoff and laugh in his face, and the bartender would bet 100 berries with anyone who’s son could win a fight against his ‘daughter’. Of course every man in the bar who hadn’t seen this happen before would scatter to go find their sons to win an easy 100 berries. And of course they all went home with lighter pockets and even bloodier sons.

Gold Roger watched this fiasco unfold until the last boy had been run out of the ring and Fleur was wiping a bloody nose on her sleeve. She got up to exit the makeshift ring after no new contenders joined her, and the bartender almost began sorting her cut of the money before Gold Roger spoke up.

“I’d like to make a bet.”

Fleur turned towards him, her small hands with their bloody knuckles resting on her hips.

“Seriously?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and giving an incredulous look at the pirate. “You just watched all that, and you still want to take a shot?”

“Yes, although I’d like to make a different kind of bet. If you win,” he shoots the bartender a glare “I’ll give you three hundred berries.” He kneeled down so as to be level with Fleur “But if my boy wins… you have to join my crew.”

“Fine by me! Where’s your boy?” Fleur asked, making her way back to the center of the ring. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind about her ability to beat whoever this man threw at her, she was (technically) undefeated. The pirate whistled and two boys Fleur hadn’t noticed shot up from the booth where they had been seated. They crossed the bar to where Gold Roger stood and the three of them formed a huddle to discuss something in voices so hushed Fleur couldn’t hear. The pirate captain clapped the boys on the back and walked off to take a seat at the bar with the other voyeurs for a good vantage point of the ring.

Fleur snickered at the sight of the boys fighting in front of her, whispering and shoving and pointing fingers in each other's faces. One had bright red hair with a straw hat, and the other had a big bright red nose and a striped shirt. At the sound of her laughter the boy with the nose went silent and fixed her with a glare. He pushed the straw hat boy one more time before stepping into the ring with her.

The bell rang, and the crowd fell silent, anticipating the outcome of this unusual bet. Fleur and Buggy circled each other cautiously, two strangers thrust into an unexpected battle. There was an air of tension between them, as if they were natural enemies, even though they’d never crossed paths before.

Fleur, determined to win, decided to make the first move. She lunged forward with a lightning-fast jab, aiming to assert her dominance in this unfamiliar confrontation. But Buggy was quick to react. With a sudden sidestep, he evaded her punch, a sly grin forming on his face.

“You’re a real disappointment, little brat” Buggy taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Fleur’s frustration grew with each failed attempt to strike Buggy. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to predict her moves, and it only fueled her determination to prove herself. She couldn’t let a stranger best her in front of this rowdy crowd.

Buggy seized an opportunity and delivered a powerful blow to Fleur’s side, sending her staggering back. The crowd roared with excitement as she struggled to regain her composure. Her competitive spirit burned hotter than ever, and she charged back at Buggy, throwing a flurry of punches in a desperate attempt to turn the tide.

Buggy, however, had the upper hand. He skillfully blocked and countered each of her attacks, his grin growing wider with every successful move. The tension in the air was palpable, and the spectators couldn’t tear their eyes away from the intense showdown.

“You thought it would be that easy, huh?” Buggy sneered, landing a decisive blow that sent Fleur crashing to the ground.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and Fleur lay there, defeated and seething with frustration. Buggy stood over her, triumphant.

“Looks like I win,” he declared, his voice oozing with triumph.

Fleur, struggling to catch her breath, glared up at Buggy. This fight had turned them into instant lifelong rivals. Or so Buggy had thought at the time.

Buggy shook his head to clear the memory, he’d forgotten where Fleur had come from entirely. He’d forgotten that he had beaten her in a fight as their first encounter with each other. The fact that she had a crush on him back then was impossible to wrap his mind around. After the way they met? After the way he treated her after that? Her confession was unbelievable.

Yet he couldn’t help the way his heart swelled when he thought of her pining after him for years. He imagined her denying Shank’s offer, searching for Buggy’s face in every room she entered, drinking alone to celebrate him, and ignoring every single man that looked her way because she knew who she wanted. He wasn’t sure the last one could be true, but it really didn’t matter to him. She had told him exactly what he’d been desperately craving to hear his whole life. That he was wanted. Adored. Beloved. And he’d just gone and fucked it up all because of stupid Shanks and his stupid sexy face.

When he noticed the sky begin to turn pink with the impending sunrise he realized just how long he had been sitting there thinking about their path. How long she had been gone. Buggy didn’t like the idea of her wandering the ship alone, she had already gotten lost within the corridors once. That, and he knew Marco was out there. He didn’t think she would go running into his arms or anything, but he wasn’t sure what Marco would say if he found her all alone out there. Buggy made a point to know every member of his crew and their faults. Marco was a talented performer, as well as an actor. But Marco was untrustworthy. Buggy wasn’t quite sure what he was hiding, but he could tell that Marcos' performance never ended when he stepped offstage. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see who Marco would become if his performance did come to an end.

Buggy stood and changed his pants, wiped his face of the tear tracks and makeup,and donned his hat and cloak. He flung open the doors his chambers, only hard enough to slam into one of the wall outside his door. He made his way down the hallway calmly at first. But after he completed his first round of scouring she ship he became nervous. After the second time around the Big Top his anxiety gave way to anger. Who the hell was she to hide from him on his own ship? What the fuck was she thinking?

As Buggy stormed through the ship, his anger and desperation growing, he couldn’t contain himself. He cornered members of his crew, one by one, demanding answers with a voice that trembled with a hidden emotion.

“Have you seen Fleur?” he barked at one of his crewmates.

The crewmate stammered, “I…I haven’t, Captain.”

“Well, keep your eyes open! I need to find her now!” Buggy shouted, his frustration palpable.

He moved on, confronting another crew member. “You! Tell me, have you seen Fleur? She’s been missing all night!”

The crew member shook his head nervously. “No, Captain, I haven’t seen her either.”

Buggy’s patience was wearing thin, and he couldn’t help but raise his voice even more. “I don’t care if you have to tear this ship apart! Find her, now!”

The crew scrambled to follow his orders, but there was still no sign of Fleur. With every passing minute, Buggy’s panic intensified. He couldn’t lose her; he wouldn’t.

Finally, defeated and exhausted, he returned to his quarters, the weight of his failure bearing down on him. He entered the room, ready to continue his frantic search, only to be met with a sight that left him stunned.

Chapter Text

Cabaji was more confused than anything. The Captain of the Buggy Pirates, the genius jester, the infamous clown, had been acting all out of sorts since the Wicked Witch of the East Blue had joined their troupe. He’d been on edge every moment she wasn’t in eyeshot and even more distracted every time she was. He wasn’t sure what was going on between them. He’d seen the captain berate the woman at meals, as well as play strip poker with her as if no one else was in the room the same day. He’d seen his captain hold the woman in tender arms while Cabaji had done his best to heal her; and witnessed Buggy rush out of the room, body abandoning head to throw out some final words before locking himself in the bathroom for an hour.

He’d taken no care for their more recent rehearsal, didn’t watch a single act other than her. He hadn’t noticed (or cared) when his spotlight wasn’t on que or berated any performers. He’d just kept his focus her until the end of the show, at which point in time he had shouted at Cabaji before storming off to his quarters.

And now here he was, tearing through the ship at the ass crack of dawn, screaming at every member of his crew. He had even smashed a few items unfortunate enough to be within this war path. All for that girl.

No one on the crew knew more about her than the few stories she had shared while she drank, that and, the rumors all arcross the sea of the wicked, wicked witch. She hadn’t come off as wicked to Cabaji though, she just looked like a girl to him.

He watched as his captain rattled another memeber of the crew before turning down the corridors to return to his room. Cabaj could’ve sworn he heard more glass shattering as the captain made his way.

Chapter Text

Fleur was there, peacefully asleep in his bed, her presence a stark contrast to the chaos and turmoil that had consumed him. Her peaceful expression softened his frantic heart.

Buggy sank to his knees beside the bed, his anger and frustration giving way to overwhelming relief. He reached out to gently stroke Fleur’s hair, whispering her name with a mixture of anguish and regret. How long had she been here, waiting for him?

Fleur woke up, her eyes adjusting to the early morning light filtering into the room. She found Buggy on his knees beside the bed, face bare and handsome, his hand gently brushing her hair. She blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Buggy? The hell are you doing?” she asked, her voice still groggy.

Buggy looked up, his expression a mix of mirth and regret. “Fleur,” he breathed, “I’ve been searching for you. I thought I’d lost you.”

Fleur sat up, her drowsiness giving way to a more alert state. She frowned, still not fully comprehending the situation. “Lost me? What do you mean? I was sleeping right outside your door, you woke me up when you slammed that door on me so I let you do your business and got back into our bed.”

He hesitated for a moment, processing her words and the fact that she called it ‘their bed’ then admitted, “I fucked up last night. I said some things I shouldn’t have. I let my anger get the best of me.”

Fleur’s brow furrowed as she remembered their heated argument. “Yeah, you did,” she replied, her tone still held a tinge of hurt.

Buggy nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know. I’m sorry, Fleur. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like, it’s like you’re a riptide and I don’t know if I want to swim away. I think I’d rather drown in you...”

Fleur sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and sympathy. “Buggy, you, we, can’t keep acting this way. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

He nodded again, looking down at the floor. “You’re right.”

Fleur decided to give him a chance, but she didn’t want to let him off the hook too easily. “Actions speak louder than words, Buggy. You’ll have to prove it.”

Buggy looked up at her, determination in his eyes. “I will, Fleur. I promise.”

Fleur wasn’t ready to forgive and forget, but she was willing to see if Buggy could truly change his ways.She knew they had a long road ahead of them. But for now, it was still morning, and she still wanted him close.

“Will you get back in bed? It’s too cold and early, and sleep isn’t as good without you.” Fleur requested with a pout. An entirely unnecessary pout, there wasn’t a world on which Buggy had to be convinced to join her in bed.

Rather than going around the bed to get on the other side, he opted to just climb over her, removing his hat, shirt, and coat first for optimal comfort. He wrapped an arm around her, hand pressed firmly into the soft flesh of her stomach as their bodies interlocked. She sighed an moved back, leaning into his body already enveloping her. She made a point of wiggling her hips, just a bit, but enough for Buggy to notice the sirens game. He put more pressure on her middle with his hand before leaning down to press his lips against her neck, just softly enough to make her shudder.

“Dangerous game you’re playing Fleur, teasing a maniac pirate like that can’t be a good idea.” He whispered, letting his teeth gently graze her shoulder.

“I just can’t help it, captain.” she fake whined in a sultry voice. “I never got to come, and I want you to help me.”

Buggy nearly choked on air when he heard her. Every time she spoke it was like he fell under her spell. He had to keep it together this time. He had to make her lose herself in him.

“Mmhmm, and what do you want your captain to do about that?” he asked in a low tone. “What, in your wildest fantasies, do you want from your captain?”

“I want his hands all over me, his fingers inside me... I want him to play with my tits and kiss me till my lips are bruised.” Fleurs voice hitched as his hand slid higher and he pressed his lips against her shoulder again. His hand stilled as soon as she stopped.

“I didn’t tell you to stop. Or is that all you wanted from your captain?” Buggy said, only to rile her up.

“No! No, I want everything from my captain. I want his cock, his cum. I want him to bend me over fuck me on his desk, I want him to fill me up over and over. I want him to make me look at him when I come so I can see how handsome he is. I- I want- I-“ She stammered as his hand made their way to her chest, fingertips ghosting over her peaks before groping her breasts.

“C’mon spit it out baby, what do you want? You tell me quick and maybe I’ll give it to you!” He said, now nibbling at her ear as his fingers teased her by rubbing light circles around her peak.

“I want my captains face between my legs!” she moaned, the words escaping her as he finally pinched her nipple and his other hand detached to join the fun, and pay attention to the other nipple. “I want him to to fuck me with his tongue. I want-“ She squeezed her eyes before the next part, afraid of what his reaction would be but not capable of letting it go unspoken. “I want to ride his face so I can feel his nose bumping against my clit, I-” she didn’t get the chance to finish as that sent him over the edge.

He pulled away from her frantically, only to remove his remaining clothes with a fervor.

“Strip. Now.” He ordered her as she gaped at the sight of his body being revealed before her. She didn’t hesitate to comply, though apparently it still wasn’t fast enough, because before she could even finish removing her shirt Buggy was at the foot of the bed and yanking her towards him by the ankles and tearing off her (his? their?) pants.

He kneeled down at the foot of the bed and threw her legs open. He wasted no time in spreading her folds with his thumbs, taking in the wonder of her wet pussy throbbing before him. He moaned at the sight and cut his eyes up to Fleur who was already looking down at him, just as he’d been prepared to tell her to. He kissed his way up her thighs while maintaining eye contact. Buggy took his time in massaging her flesh, and pressing tender kisses on her lower half, avoiding where he knew she desperately craved this touch.

“Buggy, please!” she gasped, fingers grasping at his blue locks of hair and attempting to guide him to her core.

“Tsk tsk tsk” Buggy chided, his head separated from the rest of his body and floated to the center of the bed, dropping unceremoniously onto the bed while his body followed close behind, reconnecting with his head so he was dead in the center of the plush bed.
“Sit on my face.” he said, gesturing for her to do as he said.
“What?” Fleur said, not entirely sure any of this was real anymore.
“Cmon you heard me doll, I said sit on my fucking face.”
“but I- you- I’ll-“
“What do you expect when you taunt me like that baby, now get that pussy on my face before I do it myself.” He said, closing his eyes and waiting for her to obey.
He felt her weight shift on the bed as she straddled him, crawling up to his chest. Buggy’s heart raced as he waited for Fleur’s next move, his chest heaving with desire and anticipation. The air in the room felt charged, thick with the promise of something electric between them.
But when she finally moved closer, instead of what he had expected, he felt the gentle brush of her lips against his. It was as if time itself had slowed down. Their mouths met in a delicate, unhurried dance, and the world around them seemed to fade into insignificance.
It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before. Soft, tender, and filled with a depth of emotion that left him breathless. In that moment, he realized that their connection was more profound than he had ever imagined. More than he ever thought he was capable of experiencing. It wasn’t just about physical desire; it was about something deeper, something that went beyond the surface.
As their lips met, Buggy’s hands trembled, and he pulled her closer with a gentle hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of unspoken emotions, and of a connection that neither of them could deny any longer. Their tongues danced, exploring each other’s depths, and in that stolen moment, they found something beautiful amidst the heat of their desire.
The world outside seemed to disappear entirely, leaving only the two of them, lost in the softness of each other’s lips, the warmth of their embrace. It was a kiss that held the promise of a new beginning, a turning point in their relationship. It was a kiss that would linger in their memories, a reminder of the profound emotions they had uncovered in the midst of their passion.
Their kiss was like a quiet reconciliation between the crashing waves of their tumultuous emotions. It tasted of forgiveness, like a sweet rain after a long drought. In that stolen moment, they found solace in each other's lips, as if their mouths held the keys to healing the wounds of the past.

As their intimate connection reached a tender conclusion, Fleur flopped back onto the bed next to her talented lover. After several minutes of cuddling and whispering sweet nothings Buggy carefully withdrew from Fleur’s embrace. He gazed into her eyes with a soft smile, leaning down to plant a lingering kiss on her forehead. With a whispered promise to return shortly, he made his way to the washroom to wipe her slick from his face.

Fleur lay on the bed, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. The room was enveloped in the sweet afterglow of their shared passion. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling a newfound intimacy weaving between them.

A few minutes later, Buggy returned with a damp cloth in hand. He lovingly wiped away any remnants of their shared moment, his touch gentle and affectionate. Fleur observed him, her curiosity growing with each passing moment.

Once he had finished, Buggy stood up and moved to his vanity to apply his usual makeup. As he meticulously applied the vibrant makeup to his face, Fleur couldn’t resist asking her question.

“Captain,” she inquired, her voice still slightly breathless.

Buggy glanced at her reflection in the mirror, a playful twinkle in his eye. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Fleur propped herself up on her elbows, her gaze fixed on him. “Your makeup, you didn’t wear it when we were younger. What’s the story behind it?”

Buggy chuckled, his hands moving gracefully as he painted his face. Reveling in her admiration and letting his delusions of grandeur rise to the surface he answered, “Ah, my makeup tells a tale, Fleur, as a pirate and a clown. Each color, each line, it’s a canvas of my soul. But it’s also a mask, a veil that conceals and reveals, kind of like the masks we all wear in life.”

Fleur nodded, captivated by his words. “Fascinating. Would you be willing to share your artistry with me?”

Buggy paused, considering her request. A sly grin crept across his face. “How ‘bout this, babe? I’ll not only teach you the daring art of clown makeup but also craft a unique design just for you. We shall become artists of the heart, painting our souls on our faces.”

Fleur’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “You’re too cheesy. But I love that idea!”

And so, as the golden late morning sun bathed their quarters in warm light, Buggy continued to paint his face and regaled Fleur with tales of his life in the many years they’d been apart.

He moved on to her face, the soft brush stroke tickling her skin. Fleur eagerly anticipated the day when she’d wear the mask of a clown alongside her charismatic captain, perhaps as more than a crewmate, more than an old friend, more than a lover. Perhaps one day when he conquers the grand line, she’d be beside him as his Queen.

Chapter Text

Buggy the Clown stood before the ornate mirror on his vanity, adjusting his colorful captain’s hat. He couldn’t afford any imperfections in his appearance; after all, he was the captain of the Buggy Pirates, and appearances mattered.

Beside him, Fleur leaned against the wall, her gaze fixed on the clown with a certain curiosity that only she possessed. With her unique Devil Fruit abilities, she could delve into the minds of those around her, and right now, she was indulging in a quiet exploration of Buggy’s thoughts.

Buggy, for once oblivious to Fleur’s mental probing, continued to primp and preen, fussing over his outfit. “Ah, Cabaji!” he exclaimed suddenly, grinning at his reflection. “I need to talk to him about what was up with the lights last rehearsal!”

Fleur couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was something she admired about him, the way he reveled in the spotlight. But she also knew that beneath the bravado, there were secrets and insecurities that she alone had uncovered

As Buggy left the room, Fleur followed suit, her steps silent as she slipped out behind him. She had her reasons for staying close to the eccentric captain, and those reasons extended far beyond mere curiosity.

Buggy’s animated chatter with Cabaji echoed through the corridor as Fleur remained unnoticed in their wake. Her keen eyes darted around, assessing the ship’s layout. Her control over minds had already helped her grasp the unique personalities of the crew members. It was a valuable skill, one that had kept her hidden and indispensable for years.

She knew Buggy, his ambitions, and his vulnerabilities like the back of her hand. Yet, there was a gnawing desire within her, a yearning to find her own place among the pirates, to be more than just an observer in the shadows.

With a determined stride, she slipped away, making her way to the ship’s deck. There, she found a group of crew members engaged in various tasks, from hoisting sails to cleaning cannons to practicing routines.

Some of them cut their eyes at her but didn’t look up, wondering; how this was the chick that had the Captain losing his shit earlier that morning? Fleur couldn’t blame them for their incredulity. She had to admit she was in quite the state. She had washed as best she could at sea but would need a long shower next time they go ashore. She still looked disheveled even though she had changed into a different set of Buggies clothes. But the bright colors and stripes didn’t suit her at all, they were nothing like her old wardrobe. In her old home.

The Wicked Witch of the East Blue had lived in a cavern on a remote peninsula of an island. There was a rocky entrance leading to a cool, dry path that would wind through dark tunnels. At the end of the path (if you followed the right path) was a ginormous cathedral sized cavern. Stalagmites and crystal formations littered the ceiling, varying soft shades of blue, pink, and purple shone down from them, originating from the bioluminescent lichen on them. It was really very cliche, with the witch in the cave and all that. It was beautiful though, filled with fine silk and linens draped every which way. Enchanting and bountiful treasures she had amassed on her adventures at sea filled the room, the illuminated ceiling reflecting off them to cast patterns about the cavern. There were ropes weighed down by hanging articles of clothing and ranging in all styles, fabrics, and color. She had ball gowns and costumes, tights and lace, cloaks and accessories galore. She had everything she had wanted there. Too bad she never spent more than a few months at a time there when she wasn’t swindling, or genuinely trying to fit in. It had been her safe haven, hidden from the world, where no one could find her. She wondered if it was still there, or if it had already been pillaged.

When she realized how long she had been stuck in her head, just staring out onto the deck everyone had already returned to their business, not willing to give her the time of day. Fleur knew she had to prove her worth to make any acquaintances onboard.

Fleur approached a burly crew member who was struggling to untangle a thick rope. His frustration was holding him back further from being able to untangle the rope due to the aggression he was taking out on it. Taking a deep breath, she extended her hand and offered her assistance, her voice soft and reassuring.

“Let me help you with that,” Fleur said, her hands reaching out to deftly pull on the loops, in seconds the rope unraveled itself smoothly.

The crew member blinked in surprise, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, lady!”

Word of her skills quickly spread among the crew as time went on. She could pick up almost any task without any instructions as long as someone who already knew about it was in eyeshot. She became the crew's very own ‘jack of all trades’. Before long Fleur found herself with a newfound sense of purpose on the Buggy Pirates’ ship.

A few weeks passed as Fleur had found her place among the Buggy Pirates. She had become accustomed to life aboard the ship, and her attachment to Buggy had grown stronger. Yet, there was one member of the crew who seemed less than pleased with her presence.

Marco, who had kept his distance since her rejection after their last rehearsal, had been watching Fleur closely. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Buggy had become more distracted since she arrived, and Marco was (rightfully) convinced that she was the reason.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the ship sailed peacefully through calm waters, Marco waited until the deck was empty before cornering Fleur along the rail. His eyes bore into hers, his tone dripping with hostility.

“Seems you’ve settled in nicely, huh?” Marco sneered, blocking her path with a menacing aura.

Fleur met his gaze with an air of indifference, masking her unease. “I do what I can to help out,” she replied casually, her mind already probing his thoughts, searching for the source of his hostility.

Marco’s frustration mounted, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. “Don’t play games with me, witch. I see right through your act. You’ve got Buggy wrapped around your finger, and it’s ruining him. He’s going soft.”

Fleur couldn’t help but smirk, “Soft, you say? That’s not something I’m responsible for, in fact, I’d say I make him hard pretty regularly.” she retorted, her tone flippant.

Marco’s patience wore thin, and he gripped Fleur’s shoulder tightly, his face inches from hers. “You think this is a game? You think you can waltz in here and take his attention away from us, from me?”

Fleur’s calm facade began to crack under Marco’s aggressive demeanor, but she maintained a sense of defiance. “If you have a problem with me, take it up with Buggy. I’m just here to survive like the rest of you.”

Their confrontation was escalating, and the tension on the ship grew palpable. Fleur realized that her presence was causing a rift among the crew, and she had a sinking feeling that things were about to get much worse.

As Marco’s bare handed grip tightened on Fleur’s shoulder, exposed by her tank top, her mind-reading abilities delved deeper into his thoughts, uncovering a well-guarded secret, revealing the insecurity beneath Marco’s outburst . Amidst his anger and jealousy was an undeniable attraction to Buggy, his captain.

Fleur’s eyes widened slightly as she detected these subtle undercurrents in Marco’s emotions. She had always been skilled at uncovering hidden desires and thoughts, and now she found herself in possession of a revelation that could turn the tide of their confrontation.

With a sly grin, she decided to exploit this newfound knowledge. “You know, Marco,” she purred, her voice taking on a teasing tone, “I can’t help but notice how much you care about Buggy. It’s almost… endearing.”

Marco’s grip loosened, and he took a step back, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “What are you insinuating?”

Fleur took a calculated step closer, closing the distance between them. “Oh, nothing at all,” she replied innocently, her voice dripping with suggestion. “I mean- I totally get it. It’s just that I’ve sensed a certain clown shaped longing in your thoughts. A desire that goes beyond loyalty.”

Marco’s confusion and attraction warred within him, leaving him momentarily speechless. Fleur seized the opportunity to continue her taunting. “You see, Marco, I’m not here to take anything away from you. I mean, it was never even yours in the first place!”

Their standoff had taken an unexpected turn, leaving Marco in a state of inner turmoil. Fleur had managed to unnerve him by exposing his hidden feelings, and she knew she had gained the upper hand in their confrontation.

As the moments stretched on, neither of them spoke, but the tension between them was far from resolved. Fleur had stirred something within Marco that he couldn’t easily dismiss, and she had no intention of backing down.

Marco’s internal struggle reached a breaking point as Fleur’s taunts and insinuations grew more provocative. His anger flared, and he clenched his fists, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

Without warning, he lunged towards Fleur, his intent clear: he intended to strike her. But just as his furious blow was about to land, a sudden and unexpected force intercepted his attack.

Chapter Text

Buggy, who had been silently observing the confrontation from a distance, moved with uncanny speed, catching Marco’s wrist mid-air. His eyes, usually playful and mischievous, were now filled with a dangerous intensity.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Marco?” Buggy growled, his grip on Marco’s wrist tightening, lifting the man so his tiptoes barely grazed the floorboards. His voice, usually lighthearted, carried a warning that left no room for defiance.

Marco’s rage turned to shock (and maybe a little attraction) as he found himself immobilized by his captain’s unexpected intervention. His eyes darted between Buggy and Fleur, struggling to find words to explain himself.

Fleur, although relieved that Buggy had prevented the impending violence, watched the scene with a mix of concern and curiosity. She had known that her presence on the ship would stir things up, but she hadn’t anticipated it would reach this level of intensity.

Buggy released Marco’s wrist but kept his gaze locked on his subordinate. “We’re pirates, Marco,” he hissed, his tone low and dangerous. “We have enough enemies. We don’t need to be tearing each other apart.”

Marco, chastened and humiliated by the situation, blushed and lowered his head in begrudging submission. “You’re right, Captain,” he muttered, his anger dissipating into sullen acceptance.

Fleur observed the power dynamic between Buggy and Marco with a newfound understanding. Curious as to how no one had noticed Marco’s fixation.

After Fleur and Buggy returned to their room they went about their evening routine in a familiar and domestic manner. Both washed their faces, and brushed their hair, and changed into their night clothes. Buggy had asked the female members of the crew to donate some of their less worn garments,, so Fleur finally had a measly excuse for a wardrobe in her possession.

As they both settled into bed and Fleur curled into his arms Buggy spoke. “So what was that about?” he asked, referencing the earlier spat he had interrupted.

“That? Ah, he was jealous because he wants to fuck you.” the girl intoned.

Buggy shot up in bed flabbergasted. “What!?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a whole big deal. I mean, at first I thought he wanted to fuck me, but then he started going on about how I’m stealing all your attention and stuff. It was actually pretty funny, I don’t think he even realized he wanted to fuck you until tonight. I kinda feel bad for the guy.” Fleur said in a bored tone, as if she was talking about school girl gossip rather than a man who had tried to attack her an hour ago.

“But- I- I’m not even-” Buggy faltered as his brain short-circuited. He hadn’t had anyone ever express interest in getting into his pants before Fleur, and now a man, a man was vying for his affection.

“Gay? Yeah, I mean I can tell,” she said with a smirk. “but, to be fair, I don’t think Marco thought he was gay until he realized what he was saying earlier. Well actually, I might’ve actually been a little rude in explaining it to him once I figured it out, but my point still stands!”

“That just doesn’t make sense! Nobody likes me, nobody wants me like that!” catching a glare from Fleur he continued, “No offense, but you’ve obviously got something wrong with you, because you were the only one who ever did.”

“Bullshit, they’re just too scared to say it. When you’ve got all the power, and the ass that you do, it’s pretty impossible to not want you in one way or another.”

“But my-” Buggy began before Fleur cut him off by thwacking him with a pillow.

“So help me god if you say anything about your nose I’m going to sleep in the crows nest for a week.” She threatened.

“I wasn’t!” he protested.

(He was)

“Whatever Buggy, just lay back down and shut up.” Fleur said, pulling her lover down to hold her as they drifted off to sleep to the sound of gentle waves breaking against the hull.

Chapter Text

Days turned into weeks, and the dynamic aboard the Buggy Pirates’ ship had undergone a dramatic shift. Buggy had grown increasingly aware of Fleur’s presence and the unique power she held over him.

He couldn’t deny that her mind-reading and control abilities had proven invaluable during their her time aboard. What bothered him most was the unsettling realization that Fleur had no intention of leaving his side, no matter how unpredictable he became.

With this newfound sense of security he embraced his identity as the “flashiest captaie” and Buggy leaned into the role. He reveled in the fear and awe his crew and enemies displayed in the face of his unpredictable antics. He saw it as a way to solidify his authority and protect the one person who had managed to get under his skin.

One fateful day, the Buggy Pirates spotted a merchant ship on the horizon, ripe for plunder. They quickly closed in on their target, launching an attack that left the merchant crew in disarray.

Their ship was overwhelmed with screaming men and clashing swords. The Buggy Pirates had the obvious upper hand, with more experience as well as more men, the merchants had no chance. In the midst of the chaotic raid, a member of the merchant crew, desperate to save his ship, grabbed Fleur. She had been about to push a man overboard after luring him to the upper deck. He held a gleaming knife to her throat. She kicked and struggled to escape his grasp. Realizing that her attempts at escaping were futile she changed tactics, she screamed obscenities at the man, digging into the recesses of his mind to try and jarr him with her pointed verbal attacks.

“This is why your Daddy left you! He knew you’d turn out to be a pussy little bitch and he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” The man didn’t budge. Fleur was aware what she was doing was wrong and immoral, she just couldn’t find a fuck to give anyway.

“You ruined your mother’s life! She never wanted you! You’re the reason she’s dead!” she knew was really dishing out some low blows, but when someone has a knife at your throat anything becomes fair game. Still, the man did not lessen his grip, in fact, he dragged her to the edge of the deck overlooking the bloody scene below.

“Your wife is fucking your neighbor and you’re too much of a cuck to do anything about it!” She wasn’t actually sure if the man’s wife was fucking their neighbor, but she knew it was something he suspected and she was willing to use anything she could to make the man release her. Her nails left short bloody lines in the grime on the forearms of the man as she scratched at the arm holding the blade to her throat, her mouth never ceasing its flow of insults.

Hearing the sound of his lover's cries of profanity Buggy’s eyes scanned the chaos to catch a sight of her, only to have his stomach drop as his gaze found her. Panic swept through the Buggy as he realized that his secret weapon was in grave danger.

Fleur’s voice quivered but ultimately remained surprisingly steady as she saw Buggy and tried to reassure her hostile lover as he noticed the situation at hand.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said with a calmness that surprised even herself, “don’t even worry about me, this asshole doesn’t know-.”

“Bullshit!” Her assailant shouted, cutting her off. “Nothings gonna be alright until you and your pirates are off my fucking ship! I swear on all that is good and holy in the East Blue I will paint this deck with the blood of your bitch if you don’t run off now.”

Buggy couldn’t resist the opportunity to inject his usual sass into the situation. “Oh, you think you can threaten us with that little toothpick, shithead?” he taunted, a mischievous grin splitting his painted face. “I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than you can imagine, buddy, and don’t underestimate my bitch either.”

“Don’t even think about it, partner.” the assailant growled as he pressed the tip of the knife further into her flesh, causing a drop of blood to trickle down past her collarbone.

A flip switched within the captain as he saw blood spill from his lover, a dangerous fire igniting within him. He felt a rage unbeknownst to him before this moment. Buggy, his face a mask of fury and determination, wasted no time. In an instant, his dismembered hands with their familiar blades snaked their way behind the assailant, slitting the man’s throat and drenching Fleur in a spray of blood before either of them knew it was happening. The knife clattered to the floor and the body behind her crumpled to the ground, but Fleur remained standing, unblinking.

Buggy reassembled himself, his gaze never leaving Fleur. She stood trembling, the adrenaline of the moment still coursing through her veins.

Buggy reached out to comfort her, to envelop her in his arms in an attempt to soothe her troubled mind. But she pushed him away, she turned from him and made her way back to the lower deck to join in the fray.

The scuffle was over quickly after the opposing ship’s strongest member had fallen. Men were abandoning ship left and right, preferring the icy grip of the sea to a death at the cold hands of a pirate.

Post-battle Fleur worked alongside Cabaji in patching up their crew mates. Fleur didn’t have an extensive amount of medical experience, but no one was hurt badly enough to necessitate an expert. They didn’t speak a word to each other; in fact, Fleur wasn’t sure if they had ever exchanged words during her time on the Big Top. It didn’t matter, they made a good team. They took turns cleaning wounds, applying salves, and wrapping bandages. Fleur was grateful for the monotonous work, it helped to keep her mind as blank as she wanted it.

Her dark blue tank top looked almost black with the dried blood still splattered across it. Before beginning to work with Cabaji she had swiped a wet rag along her arms and chest, leaving only a light pinkish sheen as she mopped up what blood had gotten onto her skin. The man with the knife wasn’t permitted to cross her mind, instead she felt guilty for ruining the clothes Venani had let her borrow. Fleur knew the woman would never care for an instant about the state of her ratty old shirt, but it felt better than thinking about what happened earlier.

Buggy watched this unfold mild confusion. He was baffled, Fleur was behaving calmer than he had ever seen. Her hands didn’t shake a bit as she cleaned herself off and went to wrap bandages or whatever. He had expected crying, maybe a panic attack. He had been prepared to hold her in his arms and pet her hair and promise he’d never let someone touch her again. Hell, maybe he even expected some gratitude. Fleur dodging him and continuing on as if everything was normal was not on the list of things he was ready to handle. Quite the opposite actually. He had no idea what to do now. He was scared to talk to her, wary of upsetting her, afraid of shattering what he perceived as her fragile facade of normalcy. All the poor flashy captain could do was watch, and wait for her to come talk to him.

Only she didn’t. All day she didn’t say a word to him, averting her eyes when they crossed paths and taking care to not be alone in a room with him. He tried to corner her once, to ask if she was okay or whatever he’s supposed to do. He followed her as she made her way through the corridors, her walking speed increasing when she saw him trailing her. She had come to a full on sprint when she finally reached a dead end. Almost falling as she skidded to a halt, Fleur pivoted to face Buggy while shuffling back until her back pressed against the wall. To Buggy, she looked like a skittish feral cat ready to either bolt or bite. He continued his leisurely pace until he stood close enough that the tips of their shoes almost touched.

“What’s goin’ on baby?” He asked, in a gentle tone, close to a whisper. Fleur’s eyes rapidly flitted about, looking at anything but the man before her. Buggy put his palms against the wall on either side of Fleur, caging her in. Her eyes almost seemed to swim as her gaze finally settled on his icy blue ones.

“I’m fine Buggy.” she said in a hard tone, leaving no room for argument.

Of course Buggy had a special talent when it came to making room for arguments.

“Oh bullshit, you’re such a liar. C’mon, just let it all out sweetheart.” He made a pouty, disapproving face as he spoke. He was disappointed in her stonewalling, but he was ready for her to collapse into his arms now. He had gotten her in private so there was obviously nothing else for her to do than allow herself to be comforted by him.

Fleur’s eyes narrowed and her face hardened as the clown tried to placate her, she could smell the pity oozing from him and it made her sick. She was genuinely fine. As long as she didn’t have to think about it, she would be fine forever.

Fleur didn’t say anything before ducking under his arm and booking it down the hall that lay behind them. And when Buggy gave chase only to find no sign of her, he really regretted letting her get so familiar with the layout of the ship.

He didn’t catch another glimpse of Fleur for the rest of the day. This behavior at first left Buggy dumbfounded, but as the day passed, his irritation reached a boiling point; until he was taking it out on anybody who dared to speak to him.

The sun was setting over the sea as he drank his brandy and gazed upon the open water. The entire sky was painted with colors of gold, pink, and red. Clouds drifted lazily past, catching the glow of the fading sunlight. A young man in a green singlet holding a large crate stepped in front of the captain, casting Buggy’s body in shadows as the young man blocked the view of the sunset.

“Hey Captain Buggy, where do these go?” he asked.

There was a harsh grinding sound as Buggy grit his teeth and stared up at the imbecile in his way. He just bared his teeth and glowered for a moment before speaking, “Are you fucking stupid? Where do you think they go genius? What does it say on the box?”

Buggy stood up from his chair and downed his drink in one gulp before throwing it to the floor where it shattered into a billion pieces.

“Have you ever done anything useful in your life? You ever been able to do anything without begging for instructions first? Do you need me to hold your widdle hand and show you where it goes? News flash pal! Sometimes you gotta figure shit out yourself.”

The young man in the singlet just stood there wide eyed and sore armed, unsure of whether he was supposed to flee or sit still for his scolding. Buggy aggressively jabbed a finger into the man’s forehead before continuing, “Is there anything even going on in that pea size brain of yours? I bet you’ve never even had a coherent thought all by yourself! I bet-”

He was cut off by more glass shattering at his feet. Glancing up he saw Fleur perched upon the branch of the mast above him. She had drained the last of the rum before throwing down the bottle, which she had very recently come to realize was not a great idea at such a height.

Fleur’s unexpected appearance from above drew everyone’s attention, including Buggy’s. The shattered bottle, however, took precedence as it rained glass shards onto the deck below. With a surprised expression, Buggy halted his rant against the crew member, who took advantage of the distraction to scamper away.

Fleur, her posture precarious on the mast, swayed slightly as if inebriated, though her eyes held a fierce determination. She jumped down with confounding grace and agility, landing near Buggy, her boots crunching on the glass fragments. The crew members around them watched in silence, unsure of what was unfolding.

Without a word, Fleur reached out and grabbed Buggy’s collar, pulling him down to her level until their noses almost touched. Her breath was laced with the scent of rum, and her eyes bore into his with an intensity that couldn’t be ignored.

“Buggy,” she said, her voice dripping with bitterness, “I don’t need your damn sympathy, pity, or any of your self-righteous crap, and I sure as hell don’t need you to treat me like some fragile thing that needs protection. I’m here because I choose to be, and I can handle myself. So, back off and let me be Got it?

Buggy, initially taken aback by her boldness and words, blinked at her for a moment. Then, his expression shifted from irritation to a mixture of understanding and something deeper and darker he couldn’t quite put into words. Slowly, he nodded, his bright red nose almost touching hers.

“All right,” he said, his tone laced with toxicity, “You think you’re pretty tough, huh? No need for your melodrama, sweetheart. I won’t bother you anymore.”

As Fleur released his collar and stepped back, Buggy’s gaze remained fixed on her. He was tempted to say more, but the tension between them lingered. Instead, he turned his attention to the crew, his temper flaring.

“Enough of this nonsense,” he shouted, his voice carrying across the deck, “Get back to work and mind your damn business! …And someone clean this shit up!”

The crew members scattered, returning to their tasks, leaving Buggy to stew in his thoughts. After a moment, he tossed his empty bottle of brandy overboard and followed the sound of Fleur’s boots.

Chapter Text

The door shut behind Buggy, resonating with a firm ‘click’ as he stepped into his chambers. Fleur, now adorned in her pajamas, was in the process of pulling back the covers to settle into bed when his words interrupted the quiet.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She turned, her torso facing him, perplexed by the absurdity of his question, given the obviousness of her actions.

“I’m getting into bed, Buggy. I’m too tired for any of this right now,” she replied, her voice betraying weariness.

“It looks to me like you’re getting into my bed. Which doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Buggy, can we please just go to bed?” Fleur pleaded.

“Well, I’m definitely going to bed. I’m not sure about you, though. It might be difficult with all the snoring.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never heard you snore before—maybe sleep talk, but not snore.”

“I’m talking about you! Going to join the rest of the crew down below. I’m sure they’ve got some empty hammocks by now,” he grinned, hands confidently on his hips.

Fleur’s grip on the quilt tightened before she released it entirely. She managed to steady her voice before speaking, “You’re being mean, Buggy.”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I’m giving you what you asked for. You can handle yourself, right? You’re not some fragile thing that needs protecting, so why should I keep you in here? You’re a big girl, Fleur. Go ahead and find yourself a spot with the rest of the crew.”

“Please, stop.”

“This is me stopping! This is me backing off, just like you wanted!” His voice escalated with every sentence, nearing a shout.

“That’s not—I—” She exhaled deeply. “Fine.”

Fleur, burdened by a melancholy that clung to her like mist, silently and reluctantly departed from Buggy’s chambers without another word or looking him in the eyes. The descent to the lower deck felt like a journey through a carnival whose lights had dimmed. The ship’s wooden planks groaned beneath her steps, each creak echoing the weight of her heavy heart. Dim lanterns cast a soft glow, revealing worn ropes and vibrant circus paraphernalia that adorned the passageways.

Navigating the labyrinth of memories etched into the ship’s structure, Fleur’s journey downward mirrored the emotional descent she grappled with. The distant sounds of the crew’s laughter and the rhythmic hum of the ship provided a dissonant backdrop to her internal turmoil.

Upon reaching the lower deck of the circus pirate ship, Fleur found herself amid a sea of swinging hammocks, each a silent witness to the untold stories of the crew. The scent of the ocean mingled with the lingering odor of sweat and cannon smoke.

As she sought refuge in an unoccupied hammock, the echoes of laughter and camaraderie seemed to mock the solitude of her heart. The soft creaking of the ship’s timbers and the distant waves formed a haunting symphony.

In her quiet isolation, a middle-aged woman, her face etched with both the wisdom of years and the whimsy of circus life, approached Fleur with a knowing look. Without a word, she joined Fleur on the edge, a silent companion amid the sea of swaying hammocks.

The woman's eyes held a warmth that transcended words, inviting Fleur to share the weight of her troubled heart. Fleur hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

"It's just... I thought I could handle it, you know?" Fleur's voice wavered, the vulnerability laid bare.

The woman nodded, a gentle understanding in her gaze. "The Circus teaches us that every performance has its highs and lows, just like the ebb and flow of the sea. Sometimes, we find ourselves walking the tightrope of our emotions."

Fleur let out a weary sigh, a mix of frustration and sadness. She wasn’t talking about the circus.
"I didn't expect it to hurt this much."

The woman placed a comforting hand on Fleur's shoulder. "Love, like the circus, can be unpredictable. It dazzles and challenges us, leaving us breathless at times." She wasn’t talking about the circus anymore either.

Tears welled up in Fleur's eyes, reflecting the dim lantern light. "I thought I could be strong, but... I just feel lost."

The woman's voice carried a soothing melody. As she wrapped her arm around the younger woman "Strength isn't about facing everything alone. It's also about knowing when to share the weight. You don’t have to be alone on this ship, Fleur."

As the ship rocked gently, Fleur’s tears silently rolled down her cheeks.

“It's not like I actually wanted him to leave me alone, I just— I knew he didn’t actually care y’know?” she hiccuped and wiped her nose before continuing, “I think he just knew he was supposed to I guess, I don’t know how to explain it.
He just expected me to fall into his arms like a broken little doll and thank him for hanging the stars in the sky! He didn’t actually care… He just wanted to feel like my savior”

The older woman, Rippel, was her name. Fleur finally remembered. Rippel stroked a soothin g hand through Fleur’s hair and considered her words carefully before speaking.

“Everything is a performance to our captain, but that doesn’t make it any less real to him.”

Fleur shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Listen, I’ve been on the seas a while, and on Buggy’s crew even longer, so I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. But never once have I seen the captain act the way he does around you. At first when you joined the crew no one trusted you, we all thought you were mind controlling the captain or something with the way he was suddenly behaving. No offense, but it wasn’t too far fetched, we all had heard of the Wicked Witch of the East Blue-“

Fleur cringed at the sounds of her title she had almost forgotten.

“and well, this is all to say that I think he does care about you. The whole crew does now, you’re pretty hard to not like, it makes me wonder how you got such a fierce reputation. You don’t have to share that though, you don’t have to share anything with anyone onboard, just know that you /can/ and no one will think any less of you for it.”

Fleur had heard and appreciated the woman’s whole monologue, but there was only one point left worth making to her.

“Maybe he did care, but not anymore.” Her eyes were dry now, but her tears had left streaks all the way down her cheeks, cutting through the dirt that stained them.

Fleur indulged herself by staying in Rippel’s arms a moment longer, before fully reclining on her new bed and trying to get to sleep.

Chapter Text

Cabaji thought it was all downright ridiculous. They were both ridiculous. It had been a month since Fleur's outburst and subsequent banishment from the captain's quarters and the two of them STILL hadn’t spoken a word to each other, they hadn’t even made eye contact for more than a split second. They could hardly stand to be in the same room as the other and it was ruining the atmosphere on the Big Top.

The quality of performances had plummeted in the time since the incident. The captain was constantly irate, his scowl frozen in place. Buggy was in a huff everywhere he went onboard, and god forbid someone try to speak to him. He had screamed at every member of the crew until the once raucous crew fell silent.

What was once a lively ship had grown solemn and Cabaji had had enough of it. He was so tired of the dreary atmosphere that he formulated a scheme to fix the captain and his girl up again.

It started with planting the idea. Cabaji waited until an evening where Buggy was almost imperceptibly less angry than usual and casually joined him in his study where he was having a drink. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cabaji spoke.

“We’re starting to run low on rum and a few other supplies in the kitchen…” he trailed off.

“So?” Buggy questioned “Just stop at the next island and send someone out to get some! Don’t bother me with stupid shit like this Cabaji!” he ended with a shout.

“I know Captain, we've already dropped anchor but… The crew, well, they’re all too scared to go onshore.” Cabaji spoke in a wary tone.

“Scared?? What are those babies scared of?”

Cabaji hesitated. The next step of his plan was dangerous, he really had to sell this part, or the whole plan would be shot.

He began, “Well, supposedly, the island is haunted… But if we don't stock up here, then we’ll all starve and die before we reach the next island!”

Nice job selling it. He had to kick the other part of the plan into full motion now.

“The only person willing to go out there is Fleur, and she’s willing to go alone, but… I don't know… I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her out there…”

It had been incredibly easy to convince Fleur, in fact, Cabaji didn’t even have to. As soon as Fleur heard the words “haunted island” she was running to grab her jacket and boots.

The mention of the purple haired witch caught Buggy’s attention. “Fleur?” He blanked for a moment before his mouth caught up with his mind. “Get the dinghy ready, and Fleur too, I’ll be out in 10 minutes.”

Fleur was already waiting by the ropes to climb down to the dinghy when Buggy finally arrived. She was tapping her foot with her arms crossed. She was staring off into the distance at the gloomy island. She had her hair pulled back into a knot at the back of her head and a jacket tied around her waist. She glanced over at Buggy when she saw him approaching, and then descended the ladder into the dinghy without a word.

The small boat rocked as her feet hit the bottom and she moved to sit on the bench in the middle of the boat as Buggy made his way down. Fleur made no effort to read his mind. She had no desire to know what he was thinking. Buggy, on the other hand, would give anything for the ability to read her mind. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. He thought that kicking her out and giving her the silent treatment would make her come running back to him. Instead she only seems further away.

They didn’t speak as they rowed towards the island looming in the distance. As they grew closer the thick fog enveloped their boat making it all but impossible to see where they were going, it was even difficult for them to see each other across the boat in the fog. At last someone spoke.

“I can’t see where I’m rowing.” Fleur was the one to break the silence.

Buggy jumped a little at the sound of her voice, it was almost unfamiliar after not hearing it for so long. Almost. “I know, we’ll just keep rowing straight and hope we hit the beach rather than the rocks.”

“Oh, splendid.” Fleur muttered under her breath

“Splendid indeed!” Buggy replied sarcastically. “the only thing that could make this better is some music.” he joked.

“Did you want me to sing for you?” Fleur asked in a tone that any normal person would know meant they did NOT want her to sing whatever she had planned. But Buggy had never been normal.

Buggy laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes, deciding to poke the beast.
“I would just love that! Please! Go ahead and sing a little song. It would be the perfect touch to this situation!” He said condescendingly.

She put on a deep faux manly pirate voice as she sang her impromptu shanty for him, to the tune of “The Wellerman”

“OOOOOOHHH, there once was a ship that put to sea,
the captain of the ship named Buggy was he,
he starts a lot of fights, but can’t win one…”

She paused for a moment, thinking to herself.

“golly gee isn’t this fun!”

She was honestly surprised that she was able to string together a collection of words that both insulted him, rhymed, and made a modicum of sense on the fly.

Buggy on the other hand was less than thrilled.

Buggy rolled his eyes and sighed in indignation. "Oh wow, this is just wonderful. You know, I was just thinking to myself, what I need at this moment is a shanty about how much I suck! That just makes this whole thing so much better... It's a nice change of pace from you refusing to even speak to me for the last month." He jabbed.

“Ohhh! That’s right! I’m the one who kicked you out of my bed and wouldn’t look you in the eyes for a month, much less speak to you!” Fleur smacked her palm into her forehead. “How silly of me to forget!”

Buggy laughs and smirks in annoyance. "Oh shut up! I wouldn't have kicked you out if you hadn't been so irrational in the first place." He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Maybe if you weren't always so clingy and overly emotional things wouldn't be so difficult. I can't stand all your tears and tantrums."

Fleur’s jaw dropped. Could he be serious? She looked behind her to see if maybe he was talking to someone else. There was nothing but endless dark fog.

“Are you kidding? The whole reason this started is because I wasn't emotional enough for you! I didn't cry and fall to my knees praising and thanking the almighty Buggy the Clown for killing a fat man with a knife; and your fragile little ego couldn’t handle it! Sorry- did I say little? I meant your big, fat, gargantuan, and disgustingly inflated ego!” Had she been in the position to do so Fleur would’ve been pointing and stomping as she spoke the last part. Alas, she was too old, and the boat too unstable to be throwing any tantrums, and she didn’t want to prove his point.

Buggy chuckles and nods his head. "Yeah, it's like you only care about the things that don't really matter. It's like nothing I do is ever good enough for you. It's like everything I do is wrong and you want to cry and run away because I don't live up to your expectations. Maybe if you didn't have such high standards this whole mess would have been avoided."

Fleur couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She didn’t even know which part to respond to.

“You know what my expectations were, Buggy? For you to do things for me out of the kindness of your heart. Not because you want recognition. For you to do something because you cared, because you WANTED to, not because you wanted to hear me sing your praises. You forget, I can read your mind Buggy. I know you don’t care about me, I've always known that. I guess… I guess I thought you had changed. But no. I should’ve known. You’re just a selfish little man who wants praise for doing what any reasonable person with a conscience would do.” She was out of breath by the time she finished her rant.

“I do-” Buggy was cut off by the thump of something hitting the bottom of the boat.

“Did you hear that?” He hissed.

Another thump.

Another.

Buggy poked his head over to the side of the boat to peer into the murky depths, only to shriek and fall back as something shot out of the water and gripped the edge of the dinghy.

It was a hand. A gray, decaying, rancid, and slimy hand, connected to a lean and ghastly colored arm that disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Fleur clapped her hands over her mouth to hold in a shriek herself.

Buggy scrambled back in the center of the boat to get away from the ghastly hand grasping the starboard bow.

"What the fuck!?"

~

Back on the Big Top, Cabaji stood at the rail, looking out into the fog his captain and crewmate had disappeared into. Another crewmate approached him and clapped him on the back.

“Hey, great idea Cabaji! Fake haunted island- heh- I never would’ve thought of that!”

Cabaji turned to his mate next to him and cocked his head in confusion.

“Fake?”

Chapter Text

~

“Get it off, get it off, get it off!” Buggy cried repeatedly, as if it were a spider on his sleeve and not a (ghost?) hand that probably intended to sink their boat.

Fleur, impulsive as ever, rushed to the bow and stood on the bench seat. She raised her boot and stomped on the hand repeatedly, until the fingers splayed and it let go, retreating beneath the surface of the water.

With an overly satisfied grin Fleur looked at Buggy with her hands proudly on her hips. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her tongue.

An arm that was too long and gnarled to belong to a human shot out of the water and into the boat. It grabbed Fleur by the ankle and yanked her back, causing her to lose her balance and fall.
Her chin hit the wooden planks of the seat with a resounding thud and she felt her teeth reverberate within her skull from the impact.

The hand was slick, with what felt like barnacles scattered about the skin that gouged into her flesh.

Her hands scrabbled desperately for anything to hold onto as the ghastly hand tried to drag her out of the boat. Her nails split as they dug into the wooden railing of the dinghy and she cried out.

Hissing sounds began to emanate from all around them, the fog thickened, and the water surrounding them churned as her body hit the water.

Fleur cried out as the ice cold water stole the air from her lungs, and more hands gripped her beneath the surface.

Buggy lunged forward, grabbing her by her shoulders with both hands and heaving with all his might, to no avail. She slipped deeper into the water, her head disappearing beneath the surface for a few seconds as she struggled to remain afloat.

The two of them locked eyes as she bobbed back up momentarily.

She gasped.

And then she was gone.

And the surface of the water became still.

The fog dissipated, the hissing faded, the sun peeked through the clouds, and an island came into view.

It was a beautiful day.

Buggy let out an anguished scream.

He had never felt fear like he did in that moment. Buggy the Clown had been in hundreds, if not thousands of situations infinitely more dangerous for himself, but he found that nothing he had ever experienced could hold a candle to the terror that gripped him when Fleur’s head sank beneath the surface.

He was at a loss for what to do. There was always something to do. But not anymore, his options were to stay in the boat, or drown. After a moment of consideration, he decided he would definitely prefer drowning.

He was in the process folding his coat- no need to let good fur go to waste in the ocean- when a collection of bubbles broke the surface tension of the water.

He stopped what he was doing to lean over the edge to look into the water where the bubbles came from. Nothing but darkness, then a few more bubbles.

Then Fleur, miraculously, against all odds, broke the surface with a choking gasp.

Buggy didn’t hesitate to grab her, pulling her into the boat.

The pair slumped back onto the floor of the small boat, with Fleur soaking wet, her back pressed against Buggy’s chest, their position akin to the one they found themselves in when Buggy took her from the Benzen Black.

Buggy wrapped his arms around her middle and buried his face in her shoulder as she shivered and sputtered from the shock and the chill. Neither of them spoke.

Buggy’s heart raced. He had been given a second chance. When she went under, he was afraid that she would die hating him. They never got to be happy together. In that moment, he would’ve done anything to make things right between them again.

But in this moment, with her alive, and with him once more, the thought of vulnerability seemed much more far-fetched.

Maybe things would just work themselves out. Maybe he didn’t need to apologize, or talk things out. Maybe it would all go back to normal.

“I thought you were dead.” Buggy finally managed to choke out.

“I think I was, or- I should’ve been.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“There was someone else down there…” Fleur began, unsure of how to explain.

It had all happened so fast, and so slow at the same time. She had felt the inevitability of her death as soon as she hit the water. When she sank beneath the surface, watching Buggy’s face rippled and distorted through the lens of the sea as she sank, she resigned herself to it.

Hands had grabbed her all over. Faces swirled before her in the murky depths, mangled and deformed. Rotted and decaying. She could hear them speaking to her, but their words were indecipherable. She closed her eyes, letting herself get dragged below.

She let her mind wander, she expected a flashback of her whole life, instead, the only thoughts conjured in her mind were of Buggy.

The first time she saw him, their fight, their time as crewmates, Shanks, Gol D. Roger’s execution, his wanted posters, seeing him through Kuro’s spyglass, their first kiss, their last fight…

It was unclear whether she was drowning more in her thoughts than literally in the ocean. The tightness in her chest could be attributed to both. Perhaps not the searing, burning pain within her lungs that threatened to split her at the seams.

A light pierced the darkness. A glow she could feel on her face and pierced through her eyelids. She opened her eyes, and the horrors surrounding her had disappeared, replaced by the radiant visage of a woman. She had a long white gown floating about her, as if it were being blown gently in the breeze.

Unsure of what to do, Fleur waved. The strange lady waved back, and suddenly, Fleur was breaching the surface.

“I think she saved me.”

“Who?” Buggy implored.

“I don’t know…” Fleur shook her head, pushing her hair out of her face, and ringing out the ends.

She didn’t fight his hold on her, she leaned into it, letting herself relish in the comfort of his arms. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the feel of his arms around her, how her need for physical contact had been severely neglected, she wondered if he felt the same.

Buggy wasn’t sure who was even supposed to be getting comforted. He was still distraught, he was thankful she wasn’t facing him. Even if she could feel how his heart raced and his hands trembled. He tried to keep his breathing even as he rested his head on her shoulder.

He rocked back and forth slightly, inhaling deeply. He started to speak, but Fleur beat him to it, standing up.

“I’m s-”

“We should probably make our way to that island before the fog comes back.”

Buggy stood up behind her, putting his coat back on. Fleur noticed.

“Were you going to jump in?”

“Huh, what?” Buggy jumped, startled by her keen eye.

“You took your jacket off.”

“I was hot.” Buggy lied.

“Oh.”

Fleur felt silly. Of course he wasn’t going to jump in after her, the idea was ridiculous.

Buggy felt terrible. Since when was lying the wrong thing to do?

They took their respective places on their benches and began to row towards the island.

Chapter Text

When they finally reached shore, it was surprisingly serene. Nothing like what one would suspect of a supposed ‘haunted island’.

Birds chirped in the air, and the crystal blue waves gently lapping at the golden sandy shore. A warm breeze drifted through the air, carrying sweet scents of civilization with it.

The pirate pair dragged their boat to the tree line to protect it from any incoming tides. They left it settled in a thicket between two trees, dragging leafy branches over it to conceal their property from any passersby.

Then Buggy and Fleur made their way down the first trail they came upon that seemed to lead deeper into the island. The trail was well worn, dished out by years of people walking along it, leaving it a deep groove in the earth. With raised edges and trees growing curved around the trail in a canopy like fashion, it felt more like entering a dark tunnel than walking a beautiful trail on a sunshiny day.

Electricity jumped between them as the backs of their hands brushed as they walked side by side, remaining silent. Fleur took the leap and slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. Buggy squeezed her hand. They both remained silent.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sounds of nature, Buggy spoke.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Are you still mad at me?” Fleur countered.

“I don’t even know what I’m mad about. Or what you’re mad about!”

“Really?”

“Well….”

The clown rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Fleur couldn’t help but notice the effortless, almost subconscious comedic nature of him. The subtle flair of every gesture.

He was volatile, he was annoying, insufferable, rowdy, selfish and rude. He was everything she pretended she wasn’t.

She had spent her life curating her cool and collected persona. Her early years had been a raging inferno of angst and overwhelming emotions her frame couldn’t contain. But as she grew older and she spent more time alone with her thoughts, as well as the thoughts of others, she grew cynical. Adopting a laissez-faire attitude towards life, and becoming more and more blasé by the year.

But Buggy, Buggy stoked that passionate flame she thought died years ago.

Poured gasoline over it actually.

She couldn’t even bring herself to think about her emotions towards him, or those shared between them. It was all too much. She didn’t have the energy or skills it would take her to unpack her emotions without an outburst, so she continued ignoring them as usual.

Her indifference is what drove Buggy up a wall. In all the years he had known her in their youth she had been boisterous and feisty. Scary if he was being honest. He had seen glimpses of that girl within the Fleur he knew now. But overall she was subdued, more withdrawn, extinguished like a candle before bedtime.

He wanted to see her ignite, like she did when they fought, but he was afraid that would lead her to shut down again.

Buggy didn’t like the way she shut down, the way she would go blanker than a sheet of paper. Colder than ice and less yielding than stone.

Was there even a way for him to go about fixing this? What could he do to prove to her that he cared, without making her pull away from him?

“Fleur-” he began,

“Look!”

Fleur pointed to the trail in front of them, where the trees thinned out, and the trail ended in what seemed to be a town square.

The two of them picked up their pace, only to halt abruptly as they went to exit the trail. A chain of young girls barreled in front of them, arms interlinked as they skipped and sang some childish tune.

Buggy took the time to assess the rest of the square as Fleur watched the girls dance.

There were a myriad of people milling about the various businesses in town; peddlers on the street, vegetable carts, restaurants, inns, jewelers, boutique shops, and so on.

Everything seemed so normal, as if this were any other town, on any other island.

When the girls had all passed Buggy and Fleur stepped into the town square, taking it all in.

The square went dead silent, and everyone turned to stare at them. But within an instant, the hustle and bustle of the city was back in full swing.

A tall man in a pinstripe suit and a cherubic face appeared out of seemingly nowhere and greeted them.

“Hello, visitors! Welcome!”

Fleur smiled and held Buggy’s hand tighter.

“Hello!” Buggy replied jovially.

“Call me Lentos, would the two of you be so kind as to give me your names?”

Buggy opened his mouth to answer but Fleur removed her hand from his grasp, snaking it around his waist and pinching his side. He hissed in pain before he could speak.

“No,” Fleur smiled kindly, “but you can call us Mr. and Mrs.- Mr. and Mrs. Poirot!”

Buggy looked down at her in mild confusion, but wrapped an arm around her shoulder anyway.

Lentos’s gaze darkened for a moment, before re-affixinga his charming smile.

“Wonderful! Newlyweds are you? Let me give you a tour of the town…” Lentos began to walk, expecting them to continue behind him.

Buggy started to walk forward, but Fleur's grip on his waist remained firm.

“No thank you!” Fleur called after Lentos, and he stiffened.

“I appreciate your generosity but we must decline, I’m rather fond of exploring new places alone along with my lover here.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It's kind-of our thing”

She rubbed a hand on Buggy’s chest affectionately, and Buggy smiled down at her. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he was willing to go along with it if it meant she’d keep touching him the way she was.

Lentos scowled before turning around to face them with what seemed to be his signature grin plastered on his face.

“How sweet,” He cooed, “you two lovebirds just take advantage of our lovely town. I’ll be sure to look out for you all at our festivities tonight, you wouldn’t want to miss out!”

Fleur smiled and waved, wasting no time in pivoting towards one of the various stalls that littered the square. Buggy went along with little hesitation, allowing her to take the reins in whatever might be happening at this moment. She halted abruptly.

“Do you have a list of what we’re supposed to be getting?”

Buggy halted as well. He removed his arm from where it lay draped over her shoulders to pat his pockets. He rifled around for a solid minute, opening his coat and rummaging around until his hand reappeared and he gave a triumphant, “Huzzah!”

Fleur rolled her eyes and snatched the list, glancing it over.

“I think we can find enough of this stuff here to last us until we can reach another island, what do you think?” Fleur leaned in close to him and pointed at the list.

“Oh- Yeah, yeah absolutely we can.” Buggy agreed, focusing more on her delicate fingers, and her immediate proximity than on what she was saying to him.

She crumpled up the list and shoved it into one of her pockets before he grabbed his hand and started walking to the nearest vendor.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Buggy squeezed her hand to emphasize what he meant.

“No.”

~

The bag maker's table was not the most sturdy looking. It almost seemed to sag under the weight of the myriad of bags that covered it.

The woman that sat in the middle of the table, on top of the bags, probably didn't help the issue.

Fleur smiled at her. Buggy situated himself behind Fleur and put his hands on her hips casually.

“Four of your largest bags please, the larger the better!”

The woman on top of the table clapped her hands, making the whole table shake with her. She turned to the side, grabbing four of the bags next to her.

“Here you go darling!” The woman’s teeth gleamed as she smiled at Fleur.

Fleur turned around, reaching into his coat to retrieve his satchel of berries.

“How much?”

The table lady shook her head and laughed good naturedly.

“I don’t want your berries-”

Fleur cut the woman off.

“I’m paying you in berries, I’m not going to accept anything without paying, and I am not going to pay you in any other manner.”

The woman on the table scowled.

“5,000 berry.”

Fleur nodded and placed the currency on the counter, passing two of their newly purchased bags to Buggy. After confirming her payment had been accepted, she took Buggy’s hand again and they walked away.

“What was that about?” He queried.

“Just trust me. Here,” She took the list out again, ripping it in half and giving him one side. “Do you have more berry?”

Buggy nodded.

“Go find as much of the stuff on this list as you can, but do NOT accept anything for free. Pay for every single thing you take, I’m serious Buggy.” She poked him in the chest.

“Alright, alright, I got it. I’ll meet you back here in a little while sweetheart.”

Buggy cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead tenderly before he walked away.

Fleur reminded herself he was just playing along, it was because she had said they were married.

Why had she done that by the way?

She deferred the thought, and tried to convince herself she wasn’t blushing.

Chapter Text

The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time Fleur made it back to the place they parted ways. Its rays cast a golden hue across the town, soaking it in its warm glow.

Fleur turned her head up to the late afternoon sun and closed her eyes, relaxing her shoulders and basking in its beams.

Buggy saw this as he approached and slowed his pace, savoring the sight of her illuminated in the golden rays. Her time walking around town in the sunlight had dried her off. Her hair was a messy tangle of waves from the dried sea water, and her clothing was bedraggled at best.

Had he the words on his tongue he would’ve described her the way a sailor describes a siren. He would’ve waxed poetry about her like a lovestruck writer.

However, with neither of those options available, Buggy let the hefty bags in his arms slide to the crook of his elbows and detached his hands. He sent them flying towards her, where they settled on her waist with an appreciative stroke of the thumb.

An appreciative stroke of the thumb that went unappreciated as Fleur yelped and dropped her bags, opening her eyes. She glared at Buggy’s smug grin as he approached her.

His wrists reconnected with his hands on her waist as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips before she could speak.

“How did it go babe?” He asked

Fleur blinked, buffering momentarily.

“Great, good. It went good.” She nodded, staring up at him.

He smiled at her, and she felt something summersault in her chest. Fleur quickly picked up her dropped bags and stood up.

“We should find some place to stay the night. I don't want to be on those waters in the dark.” She said, looking around for an inn.

“And somewhere to eat!” Buggy added.

“Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone!” Fleur and Buggy startled as Lentos interjected and he sauntered over to the couple.

“Our Motel de California has everything you could dream of. All of little to no cost to you!” He gestured towards a grand building made of white stone.

This time Buggy piped up before Fleur could beat him to it.

“No thanks pal,”

he waved his hand vaguely towards a house with a rusted vacancy sign hanging from one hinge.

“This looks more like our style.”

He took Fleur’s groceries from her hands and started walking towards the inn who’s name had long faded from the sign outside.

Fleur nodded at Lentos and ran after her “husband”.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Buggy stated as Fleur reached his side, matching stride.

Fleur tried to take the bags back from him, but he moved them out of her reach.

“Let me help!” She whined.

“Okay, wait, I have something to give you.” Buggy stopped next to a fountain and he put down the bags.

Fleur stopped next to him and he took her left hand, pulling her close to keep his actions out of sight. He slipped a beautifully crafted ring with small purple stones in the center onto her ring finger.

“Makes sense, right?”

Fleur stuttered. “I- yes- it’s beautiful.”

Buggy grinned from ear to ear and kissed her forehead with a wet smack.

“Come on wife, let’s go get a hotel room!”

Fleur managed to snatch one of the bags before Buggy grabbed the rest (Buggy let her carry one of the bags so she wouldn’t argue with him).

Fleur admired the ring on her finger, it was the single most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever worn. And she had worn a lot of jewelry.

She stared at Buggy's Back as he walked in front of her, wishing things were as simple as they were now all of the time.

Buggy’s heart swelled. She liked his gift! He had pondered long and hard at the jewelers shop which ring suited her. After some guidance from the jeweler he decided on the purple to match her hair, he must’ve made the right decision.

~

They reached the inn, and Fleur asked the man working the counter for two rooms.

“My husband here, well he snores, and it keeps me up all night.” she explained.

“Sorry Mrs. Peroit, we’ve only got one room available.” He replied.

Fleur sighed and deposited the necessary money on the desk and took the keys offered to her.

When they reached their room the two of them dropped the hefty bags on the ground next to the bed in the center of the room.

“Why would you ask for two rooms?” Buggy asked her. He flopped back onto the bed and coughed as a cloud of dust swirled around him.

Fleur fixed him with a glare and started rummaging through one of the bags.

“I’m gonna clean up before we get something to eat.”

She pulled some clothes out of the bag.

“What, first you take my money right out of my pocket and then you buy yourself clothes with it?” Buggy accused with a playful grin.

Fleur stuck out her tongue at him and stepped into the bathroom.

The room wasn’t nice, so it was no surprise when the bathroom was in a similar state of disrepair.
Although there was no lack of fragrant soaps and oils to use, which Fleur would be sure to make use of. The knob squealed as she turned on the water, it took a few seconds before the water flowed out to fill the bathtub.

The bathtub.

Fleur stared down the daunting enemy.

She stripped herself naked and stood next to the tub, running her fingers under the water to test the temperature of the water.

The last time she had been in a bathtub she had been in the hold of the Benzen Black.

She was afraid.

It was unreasonable and she knew it. This wasn’t the same bathtub. Kuro was seas away from them. There was nothing to restrain her in sight. No one was going to hurt her, or use her.

That knowledge didn’t do anything to help the racing of her heart.

She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Buggy?”

He lifted his head up from where he laid on the bed.

“Yes dear?” The words rolled off of his tongue naturally .

“I- I was wondering if you would sit with me.”

“Sit with you?” He sat up.

“Just sit in the bathroom with me while I take a bath? I just- I don’t want to be alone. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to-” she started backtracking.

Buggy stood up.

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

He raised his arms above his head and stretched. Fleur tore her eyes away from the strip of skin on his waist that was exposed as his shirt rode up.

She reentered the bathroom and turned off the water as the tub was sufficiently full, with bubbles decorating the surface.

“Where do you want me?” Buggy asked, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe as he watched her.

“Uhm…” She crossed her arms over her chest awkwardly. “Wherever you want, just close your eyes.” She shrugged.

He covered his eyes with his hands with a flair and slid down, sitting on the dusty wood floor with his back down the door frame.

“Yes ma’am” He purred.

She dropped her towel and stepped into the tub, she shivered, even though the water was warm. She sat down in the water and exhaled a long deep breath. She drew her knees to her chest under the bubbles and tried to steady her breathing.

“So how was your day?” She asked.

Buggy laughed and removed his hands from over his eyes, keeping them closed.

“I thought you were there, doll?”

“Sorry, I was- I just, I don’t know…”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. The violet haired woman lifted her hands out of the water and pushed her hair out of her face. The ring caught in her hair. She removed it, placing it on the floor beside the tub with a muted ‘clink’.

“Thanks for the ring.” She murmured.

“You’re welcome!” He smiled “I figured since we’re Mr. and Mrs. Poirot you should atleast have a ring.” He paused for a second. “What’s with that by the way?”

Fleur sighed. “I don’t trust this town, I don’t like the way that guy- Lentos- I don’t like the way he says stuff. The way he words sentences. It’s sketchy. I panicked… sorry.”

His voice lowered slightly. “Hey, I don’t mind.”

He might’ve been reading too far into it, but he liked the idea that in her moment of panic, her first solution was to say that he was her husband. It satisfied a primal, protective nature within him.

She hummed in response and looked at the various soaps next to the tub.

She leaned back in the tub, getting her hair wet, but not going under. She lathered her locks in a shampoo that smelled like ripe strawberries, with pink suds. She smiled as she ran her fingers through her hair, untangling the knots.

Buggy was content where he sat, listening to the soft splashes as she moved. He felt peaceful, almost domestic.

After Fleur finished massaging the shampoo into her scalp she too a deep breath, bracing herself to dunk her head under to rinse out the suds.

She was only under the water a moment before the dread gripped her. The feeling of the porcelain against her back took her back to the hold of the Benzen Black.

She sat up out of the water with a gasp, splashing the floor around her.

Buggy opened his eyes on instinct at the sound to look at her, leaning forward.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She assured him, panting in a way that assured him she was anything but.

He stood up and dusted off his pants. Grabbing a cup from next to the sink he knelt down next to the tub.

“Let me help you.” He said softly.

“I don’t-” She started.

“I know,” he cut her off. “let me help you anyway.”

Fleur sighed and let her shoulders relax, drawing her knees to her chest again and wrapping her arms around them.

“Okay.” She whispered.

Buggy smiled softly and dipped the cup into the water to fill it. He cupped a hand over her eyes to keep the water out of her face and poured the warm water over her head. He repeated the motion a few times, rising out the last of the shampoo.

“Thank you.”

She said in a small voice as he worked the conditioner into the length of her hair.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He replied, before deciding to offer her some vulnerability in exchange for how much it much be taking her in that moment,

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered.

Fleur closed her eyes before responding.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I wanted you to say something.” He admitted.

“You wanted me to apologize?”

He was slower to respond this time.

“Yes… Yes I did.”

“What for?” She asked. Her voice held no accusation, only genuine curiosity.

Buggy hummed in thought.

“For making a fool of me in front of my crew, and throwing any of my attempts to care for you back in my face. For then having the audacity to tell me I don't care about you.”

He huffed in his last sentence. Emphasizing his point as his rinsed the conditioner from her hair.

Fleur’s instinct was to argue, to tell him he made a fool of himself all on his own. Instead she listened.

“I’m sorry… I’m not used to letting people care for me, it's,” She paused, searching for the right word. “Uncomfortable. But that doesn’t make it okay for me to get drunk and lash out at you, I'm sorry.”

Buggy was almost taken aback at her apology.

“I’ve missed you too.” She finished with a whisper.

“What did you want me to apologize for?” Buggy asked,

“For pitying me, for sending me away, and… for ignoring me.” She trailed off.

“I just, I wanted you to tell me you still wanted me.” She admitted weakly.

Buggy dropped the cup into the water and cupped Fleur’s face in his hands.

“Listen to me,” His eyes were wide and insistent as she looked at him. “I want you, I still want you, I never stopped. I want to be with you, I want to talk to you, I want to listen to you. I want you in any way you’ll give yourself to me because I l-”

He stopped and choked on a cough “I’ll always want you, there's no changing that.”

Her lip trembled slightly as he professed this to her. It was everything she had always wanted to hear from him. Emotions overtook her in waves, and her lip trembled as she tried to hold back tears.

The trials of the day and the stress of the bathtub, coupled with her long-bottled emotions for the clown got the best of her in the end, and she broke down in tears.

He reached into the tub and wrapped his arms around her, ignoring how the water drenched his clothes and drawing her to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” He started.

“No, no don’t be” She shook her head, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Fleur clung to Buggy, feeling his warmth through the damp fabric of his shirt. His embrace was unexpectedly comforting, anchoring her in the present and helping her to push the haunting memories aside.

After a few moments, she pulled away slightly and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“I should finish getting ready,” she said softly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Buggy nodded, standing up “I’ll give you some privacy,” Buggy said gently, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before he stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind him.

Fleur took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The conversation had been intense, dredging up emotions she had tried to bury. She used a washcloth to scrub the rest of her body, washing away the tension and the remnants of her fear.

After a few minutes, she stepped out ot the tub, wrapping herself in a towel again. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing a glimmer of hope in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. She took her time getting ready, savoring the feeling of being clean and refreshed.

She pulled on the new dress she had bought earlier, a deep navy blue that contrasted beautifully with her violet hair. She had put her belt around her waist to hold her knife and such, and she planned to add a jacket she had purchased as well. She slipped the ring back on her finger and smiled as she twisted it to look just right.

Fleur stepped out of the bathroom, the soft fabric of her navy dress swishing around her legs. Buggy's eyes lingered on her, taking in the transformation.

“You look... amazing,” he said, his voice softer now.

Fleur blushed slightly but didn’t meet his eyes choosing instead to focus on the shirt he had changed into. “Thanks,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel a bit better.”

Buggy stepped closer, his usual playful demeanor masked by something more serious. “I meant what I said,” he murmured. “I want you in my life, Fleur. Every part of it.”

She nodded but didn’t respond. The weight of their unresolved issues hung heavily in the air.

She glanced around the room, trying to deflect. Her eyes caught on the cobwebs in the corners and the peeling wallpaper. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Buggy shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s just a bit of dust. Adds character.”

Fleur gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, if character means feeling like we’re being watched by ghosts.”

Buggy’s expression turned serious. “We’ll be fine. If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”

She looked at him, searching his eyes for reassurance but finding herself lost.

“It’s not just the place, Buggy. It’s... us. We haven’t talked in months. Today was... intense.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’ve missed you, but...”

“But what?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

He paused, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know. Everything’s different now.”

Fleur wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the day. “Maybe it’s better if we just focus on getting through tonight. We can deal with everything else later.”

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with tension.Then, Buggy offered her his arm.

“Shall we go to dinner then, Mrs. Poirot?” he asked, his playful grin returning but not reaching his eyes.

Fleur grabbed her jacket and put on her boots. She gave him a forced, tight lipped smile, slipping her arm through his and avoiding his gaze. “Yes, let’s,” she replied.

Buggy’s eyes flashed with frustration as he watched her withdraw from him in real time, but he nodded.

With a shared fake smile, and a dynamic on the rocks they left the room. Fleur and Buggy stepped into the unknown together, their unresolved issues trailing behind them like shadows

As they walked down the dimly lit hallway of the derelict hotel, the air felt thick with an eerie presence.

The walls seemed to close in around them, and Fleur couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

The haunted island’s sinister aura seeped into her bones, making her question whether they were truly safe.

Chapter Text

Fleur and Buggy exited the shabby inn, the sky now awash with hues of orange and pink as the sun sank toward the horizon. The town, bathed in the golden light of dusk, seemed tranquil but unnervingly deserted. Fleur tightened her grip on Buggy’s arm, glancing around at the empty streets, a sense of foreboding gnawing at her.

“Where is everyone?” she wondered aloud.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might awaken something lurking in the shadows.

Buggy's eyes narrowed as he scanned the surroundings, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by cautious vigilance.

“Maybe they’re all inside having dinner,” he suggested, though his tone lacked conviction, betraying his own unease.

They walked toward the town square, where they had earlier seen a bustling marketplace. Now, it was eerily silent. Stalls were left unattended, and the only sounds were their footsteps echoing off the cobblestones, a stark contrast to the lively scene they had witnessed before.

The emptiness felt oppressive, as if the town itself was holding its breath.

“This is weird,” Buggy muttered, adjusting his hat. “Too quiet.”

Fleur nodded, her anxiety growing with each step. The quietness seemed to seep into her bones, making her acutely aware of every rustle and creak. They reached what appeared to be the main restaurant in town, a charming building with lanterns hanging outside. But the windows were dark, and the door hung ajar, swaying slightly in the evening breeze.

“Hello?” Buggy called out, pushing the door open further. The inside was as silent as the rest of the town, tables set for dinner but no diners in sight, the eerie stillness making the hair on Fleur’s neck stand up.

Fleur hesitated at the threshold, a shiver running down her spine. “Buggy,” She tugged at his sleeve. “maybe we should go back to the inn. This doesn’t feel right.”

Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows inside the restaurant. It was an ancient man, his face lined with worry and his hands trembling slightly. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered urgently. “It’s not safe.”

Buggy stepped forward, one hand wrapping around Fleur’s waist and the other instinctively reaching for one of his knives. “What do you mean? Where is everyone?”

The old man glanced around nervously before answering. “When the sun sets, something terrible happens. You need to leave now.”

Fleur’s eyes widened in fear. “Cursed? What kind of curse?” She asked.

The old man shook his head. “No time to explain. Go back to your inn and lock the doors. Don’t come out until morning. Please, for your own safety.”

Buggy and Fleur exchanged a look. He nodded reluctantly, taking her hand. “Alright, we’ll go. Thanks.”

Fleur and Buggy hurried back to the inn, the streets growing darker and more oppressive as the sun dipped below the horizon. Once inside their room, Buggy bolted the door and turned to Fleur with a determined look.

“Alright, we’ll stay here for the night,” he said, trying to sound confident. “We just need to get some sleep and figure things out in the morning.”

Fleur nodded, though her unease was palpable. She looked around the dingy room and sighed. “Only one bed,” she muttered.

Buggy grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to share, Mrs. Poirot.”

Fleur shot him a withering look. “Absolutely not.”

Buggy raised an eyebrow. “What? I thought—”

Fleur crossed her arms, standing firm. “I need my space, Buggy. Especially after today. I've gotten used to sleeping alone,” she jabbed, her voice tinged with irritation.

He scoffed. “Oh, come on, Fleur. Don’t pretend like you’re not scared. You’d probably sleep better with someone next to you.”

She glared at him, her frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t about being scared. It’s about... boundaries. And you, Buggy, are not good at respecting them.”

Buggy’s playful grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “Boundaries? Really? After everything we’ve been through, you’re talking about boundaries?”

“Yes!” she shot back, her voice rising. “Because despite everything, we haven’t resolved anything. You can’t just give me a bath and expect everything to be fine.”

Buggy’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I’m trying here, Fleur. I thought our conversation was a step in the right direction. Can’t you see that?”

She sighed, her anger giving way to exhaustion. “I do see that, Buggy. But it’s not that simple. We can’t just pretend everything’s okay.”

He looked at her, his expression softening.

“Why can’t we?”

Fleur’s resolve wavered, but she shook her head. “I need time. We need time. And right now, I need space.”

Buggy took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. “Fine. You want space? Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She blinked, taken aback by his sudden concession. “Buggy, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re right. You need space. So take it.”

He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it on the floor, making a makeshift bed.
“No, you take the bed! You’re paying for it.” She argued.

“I’m not getting in the bed if you’re not.”

Fleur watched him for a moment, then sighed and did the same on the opposite side of the room.

“Fine,” she muttered, lying down on the hard wooden floor in her stubbornness. “Goodnight, Buggy.”

“Goodnight, Fleur,” he replied, shifting to find a less uncomfortable position.

Hours seemed to pass as they lay there in thick silence. Just as Fleur was starting to drift off, a strange sound from outside made her sit up.

“Buggy, did you hear that?” she hissed.

He opened his eyes and listened. From the street below came the faint sounds of music and laughter. Buggy stood up and went to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly.

“What the...?” he muttered, his eyes widening.

Fleur joined him at the window, her breath catching in her throat. Below, the once-deserted streets were now filled with people. They were dancing, laughing, and celebrating, the town suddenly alive with activity. It looked like a festival, but there was something off about it—an eerie quality to the revelers.

“Where did they all come from?” Fleur whispered, her unease growing.

Buggy’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Who cares? This must be the festivities Lentos was talking about. Let’s join them!”

Before Fleur could protest, she spotted a familiar figure in the crowd. Lentos stood in the middle of the street, his back to them. Just as she was about to point him out to Buggy, Lentos turned around and looked directly into their window, as if he could feel their eyes on him. His face was no longer the friendly, albeit creepy, visage they had seen earlier. It was twisted and pale, his eyes hollow and glowing with an unnatural light. His mouth stretched into a wide, menacing grin.

He raised a hand and waved at them slowly, the gesture filled with a sinister mockery.

Fleur gasped and stumbled back from the window. “Buggy, did you see that?”

Buggy’s face had gone pale. “Yeah, I saw it.”

Without another word, they both scrambled onto the bed, their earlier argument forgotten. They huddled together under the thin blanket, eyes wide and hearts racing.

“What is going on in this town?” Fleur whispered, her voice trembling as she reached for his hand.

Buggy shook his head, his usual bravado replaced by genuine fear. He clasped his fingers around hers. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, we’re not going out there.”

They lay in silence, the sounds of the eerie celebration continuing outside. Fleur clung to Buggy, seeking comfort in his presence despite their unresolved issues. Buggy wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

As the night wore on, the strange noises from outside eventually faded, leaving the town in an unsettling silence once more. Fleur and Buggy stayed awake, too afraid to sleep, waiting for the first light of dawn to bring some semblance of safety.

Fleur and Buggy stayed huddled together under the blanket, their hearts pounding in unison. The eerie silence from outside only heightened their sense of vulnerability, but neither spoke for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Buggy broke the silence, his voice a whisper. “Fleur, I’m sorry about earlier. About pushing you.”

Fleur sighed, her breath warm against his chest. “I know you mean well, Buggy. But we need to take things slow. There’s a lot we still need to figure out.”

He nodded, the movement slight and careful. “I get that. It’s just... I hate seeing you so distant. I miss the way things were.”

She looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I miss it too. But we can’t rush it. We need to rebuild trust, step by step.” She rubbed a hand on his chest comfortingly.

Buggy tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Fleur. I just want us to be okay.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm. “We will be, Buggy. Eventually. We just need time.”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”

For a while, they simply lay there, the warmth of their bodies creating a small haven of safety in the midst of the unsettling night. Fleur traced patterns on Buggy’s chest with her finger, a soothing habit that calmed her nerves.

“What do you think is happening out there?” she asked softly, breaking the silence again.

Buggy shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

She smiled faintly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s easier when we’re a team,” he replied, his voice gentle. “We’re stronger together.”

Fleur snuggled closer, her body relaxing a bit more. “You’re right. We are.”

They lay in silence again, the room growing colder as the night deepened. Buggy pulled the blanket tighter around them, his hand rubbing small circles on her back. Fleur closed her eyes, savoring the rare moment of peace.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Buggy asked suddenly, a smile in his voice.

She chuckled softly. “How could I forget? You beat the shit out of me.”

“You deserved it,” He teased, poking her side.
“You were so cocky.”

Fleur smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I did. But I also knew right then that you were someone special.”

Buggy’s heart warmed at her words. “And look at us now, fighting ghosts and sharing beds.”

“Sounds like a fairytale,” he added, his tone light and playful.

“A very twisted fairytale,” she agreed, her smile widening.

They fell silent once more, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on them. Fleur’s eyes grew heavy, but she fought to stay awake, afraid of what might happen if she closed her eyes.

“Buggy?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he responded, his hand still tracing soothing patterns on her back.

“Promise me we’ll get out of this town alive,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Buggy’s grip on her tightened. “I promise, Fleur. We’ll make it out of here. Together.”

His words, though simple, filled her with a sense of hope. She buried her face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her cheek. Despite everything, she felt safe in his arms.

Chapter Text

As the first light of dawn broke through the dusty window, Fleur and Buggy finally allowed themselves to relax slightly. The town seemed less menacing in the daylight, but the memory of the previous night's events lingered like a dark cloud.

“We need to get out of here,” Buggy said, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

Fleur nodded in agreement. “First, let’s check out the shops. I think I forgot some thing.”

Buggy grunted in response.

The streets were eerily quiet again as they ventured outside, the festive decorations from the night before now looking old and decayed in the harsh morning light.

They walked in silence, both on edge and alert for any signs of danger. The town felt deserted in the early morning, not a single soul in sight. As they passed by a small shop with a cracked window, Fleur’s eyes caught a glimmer of something inside.

“Wait, Buggy,” she said, stopping in front of the shop. “I think I see something.”

Buggy looked skeptical but followed her inside. The shop was dusty and neglected, with shelves lined with trinkets and old jewelry. Fleur’s eyes scanned the room, landing on a small display case in the corner.

“There,” Inside the case was a simple silver ring, understated yet elegant.

Buggy raised an eyebrow. “You think now’s the time for more bling?”

Fleur gave him a small smile. “Just trust me.” She picked up the ring and turned to the shopkeeper’s counter. Behind it was an old ledger and a dusty cash register. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a few coins and left them on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Buggy asked, confusion evident in his voice.

Fleur slipped the ring her pocket

“Let’s just go.”

Buggy opened his mouth to protest, but Fleur silenced him with a look.

They left the shop and continued their search for supplies, finding a few essentials in other abandoned stores, making sure to leave behind payment even though the stores were devoid of employees.

As they walked back to the inn to collect their bags, Fleur patted the ring in her pocket as they walked hand in hand. It was a small symbol of her gratitude and an attempt to bridge the gap between them.

Back in their room, they packed their belongings quickly, neither wanting to linger any longer than necessary. As Buggy shouldered his bags, Fleur took a deep breath and pulled out the ring.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to him.

Buggy looked at the ring, then back at her, surprise and confusion mingling in his eyes. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you,” Fleur said demurely. “I know things have been difficult between us, but I wanted you to have something. A reminder that I still care. And to uh- make sure we look the part. I guess.”

Buggy’s expression softened as he took the ring from her. He turned it over in his hands, then slipped it onto his finger. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, Fleur,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, giving him a small smile.

~

As Buggy and Fleur reached the shoreline, the morning mist began to lift, revealing their ship far off in the distance, waiting for them to return. The sight of The Big Top brought a sense of relief, but that relief was short-lived.

Just as they stepped onto the sandy beach, a chilling wind swept through the air, and a ghostly figure materialized before them. It was Lentos, his cherubic smile replaced with transparent skin and hollow eyes. His once neat pinstriped suit was now tattered.

“You cannot leave,” the ghostly figure intoned. “A debt remains unpaid.”

Buggy frowned, his annoyance clear. “What are you talking about? We left money for everything we took.”

Lentos shook his head slowly. “Not everything. The ring you took yesterday remains unpaid for.” He smiled that chilling smile once more. “No one leaves the island until all debts are settled.”

Fleur’s eyes widened in realization. She looked at Buggy, who had an expression of growing confusion. “Buggy, did you—did you not pay for the ring you gave me?”

Buggy's cheeks turned as red as his nose.

“I thought... I thought it was a gift from the shopkeeper! He said it was a tradition or something!”

“Shit!”

Fleur dropped her bags and smacked her head with the base of her hand, pacing in a quick circle before standing back in front of Lentos.

“It’s okay,” she exhaled deeply and looked at Buggy, trying to give a reassuring smile. “It’s okay!”

She faced Lentos once more.

“How do we pay our debts?

“His debt,” Lentos corrected. “He took the ring. Nevertheless… one hundred years.”

Buggy balked at the thought.

“Our debt.” Fleur reiterated.

“No!” Buggy protested, grabbing her by the forearm to make her look at him.

“You go back to the ship, tell them what happened, they’ll understand. You can take over the crew- I don’t care. Just remember me, tell my story. And if- if you're still around a hundred years from now… come and find me.”

Fleur slapped him, hard.

“You’re fucking ridiculous!” She shouted.

Buggy grabbed his cheek. “Ow!”

“Please- just shut up, please.” She patted his hand over his cheek.

She faced Lentos again. “Can we split the debt between the two of us, both remain 50 years?”

Lentos shook his head. “No, but you can stay if that’s what you’d like…”

“No, Fleur you can’t!” Buggy interjected.

“Shut up!” Fleur yelled in his face.

His mouth closed and he stepped back slightly.

She tugged her hair in frustration and turned in a circle. She stomped her feet and pointed at Lentos.

“Fuck you.” She turned her finger towards Buggy. “And fuck you too.”

Lentos put a hand over his chest in dismay at her audacity. Before he could retort she turned on her heel and walked away.

Buggy stood next to Lentos as she walked away and crossed his arms over his chest.

He was about to say something along the lines of “Women, am I right?” but Fleur turned around with a fire in her eyes.

Buggy quickly dismissed the idea and picked up the bags she had dropped and ran to catch up with her, after flicking off the “man” in the pinstriped suit.

Chapter Text

Buggy could feel the tension radiating off Fleur as they walked back to their room at the inn. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

“Fleur,” Buggy started to speak.

She took a deep breath and stopped, turning to face him.

“Just be quiet, okay? I need space, but I don’t want to be away from you. So can you just… not talk?”

Buggy’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded, though she could see the hurt flicker in his eyes.

The simple agreement was a small relief to her. They continued walking in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway as they reached their room.

Fleur handed the innkeeper a few coins, paying for another day, and turned to Buggy.

“I’ll try to get us an extra room again,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Buggy’s heart sank, but he forced a smile.

The pain of rejection was like a dagger to his chest, but he didn’t want to argue. He watched her talk to the innkeeper for a moment before the man shook his head, and Fleur walked away, her shoulders tense and her steps quick. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her how much he needed her, but the words stuck in his throat.

After securing their bags, they left the inn and ventured outside. The town was still eerily quiet, the festive decorations now looking even more out of place in the harsh afternoon light. They walked aimlessly for a long time, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing moment.

Eventually, they found themselves in a grassy meadow by the beach. The waves crashed gently against the shore, the sound soothing and rhythmic.

Fleur sat down on the soft grass, her eyes closed as she took in the peaceful surroundings.

Buggy hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to her.

“Fleur…,” he started, but she raised a hand to stop him.

“Just… let me do this,” she said softly, reaching for his hair.

Fleur began to braid Buggy’s hair. First her fingers deftly untangled his locks after removing his hat. Then she began weaving flowers into the strands.

Buggy closed his eyes, the simple act of her touch filling him with a confusing mix of emotions. He was in a blissful haze, unsure of what to make of the tenderness she was showing him.

“Why are you doing this?” Buggy asked quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the waves.

“Because,” Fleur replied, her voice gentle, leaving the rest of the sentence to imagination.

Buggy smiled softly, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

Fleur exhaled. “So are you, Buggy. So are you.”

As the sun began to set, they walked back towards the town, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. The tranquil moment was shattered when they encountered Lentos in the street, his ghostly form flickering in the dim light.

“So, you’ll be staying with us?” Lentos asked, his voice dripping with a snide tone.

“No, she won’t,” Buggy replied, his statement defiant.

“Yes, I will,” Fleur countered, her voice steady.

“Ooh, a lovers’ quarrel,” Lentos taunted and rubbed his palms together. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

The ghost floated away, happy to have stirred up some trouble.

Buggy opened his mouth to speak.

Fleur’s patience snapped. “Can you just go back to being quiet?”

Buggy’s eyes flashed with anger. “No Fleur! You can’t just tell me to be quiet and ignore everything, that's not how this works. I put up with it today, but we have to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Fleur insisted, her voice cold.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Buggy’s voice rose in frustration.

“I mean there's nothing to talk about!.”

“What the fuck does that mean? I just got sentenced to 100 years on this stupid island and there's nothing to talk about?” Buggy’s confusion turned to rage.

The fight erupted, words flying back and forth like daggers on the cobblestone street. Fleur’s composure cracked, her emotions spilling over as she yelled at Buggy. He matched her anger with his own, the argument escalating until it felt like the world was crumbling around them.

“Why can’t you just understand?” Fleur shouted, tears streaming down her face.

“Because you won't let me! All I want to do is understand Fleur, but you won't let me in!” Buggy’s voice was raw with emotion.

Buggy’s anger softened minutely, replaced by a look of hurt. “Why do you push me away? At every turn, every time I think we’re getting better, you find a new way to shut me out!”

“Because I’m scared, Buggy!” Fleur admitted, her voice breaking.

Buggy took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch her cheek. “What is there to be scared of?”

“Losing you again.” Her voice was small, and trembled as she spoke.

Buggy swept her into a hug, cradling her head to his chest.

“Babe, you could never ever lose me. I’ll always be with you. Even when you return to the Big Top. I’ll always be in your heart.”

Fleur shoved him away and stormed off into the inn without another word.

When he came to their room she was already in the bed beneath the covers.

“Thought you were getting another room?” He asked, not without a hint of pettiness in his voice.

Fleur just rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head.

The next morning, Buggy woke up to an empty bed, in an emptier room.

Her side of the bed was neatly made, and all of the bags were gone. He sat up, his heart pounding as the reality of her absence hit him.

The silence that had been a source of comfort in the night now felt like a gaping void. He stared at the door, hoping she would walk back in, but the room remained silent.

Buggy was despondent. He had driven a wedge between them, and he was left alone to pick up the pieces.

He had told her to leave. Over and over he had told her to leave. Who was he to be surprised?

Buggy's mind spun with questions. Why hadn't she said anything? He felt a surge of anger, not at Fleur but at himself. How had he let things get so out of control?

He stood up and looked around the room, his frustration boiling over. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the nearest chair and hurled it against the wall, the wood splintering on impact. He swept everything off the table, sending papers and trinkets flying. The sound of shattering glass filled the room as he smashed a lamp against the floor.

Panting, Buggy sank to his knees amidst the wreckage, his hands shaking. The room a reflection of his inner turmoil. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the weight of his despair pressing down on him.

After a while, Buggy stood up and stumbled out of the room. He wandered through the empty streets, his feet carrying him aimlessly. He found himself back at the grassy meadow by the beach, the place where Fleur had braided his hair. The flowers she had woven into his hair had long since fallen out, but he could still feel the ghost of her touch.

Buggy sat down on the grass, staring out at the ocean. The waves crashed against the shore, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he fought them back, refusing to let himself break down completely.

He considered whispering something melodramatic into the wind, but ultimately decided against it.

He spent the day in that meadow, lost in his thoughts. He replayed their fight over and over in his mind, each harsh word and painful accusation cutting deeper. He wished he could find her, to make things right, but he didn't know where to start.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the grass, Buggy felt a flicker of hope. Maybe Fleur would be happy out there. Maybe she would live long enough to come back in 100 years. He clung to that hope, the only thing keeping him from being swallowed by his despair.