Chapter Text
A little more than six months out from the Marineford disaster, and Crocodile's pirate empire was already nearly as powerful as it had been when he'd lost everything all those years ago. With the benefit of experience on his side, it all seemed to come together quickly, easily. He had contacts to re-establish, caches of treasure to re-acquire and add to his hoard. He knew how the marines operated, and where they usually patrolled, thanks to his time as a Warlord.
Crocodile and his Neo Baroque Works pirates hunted the shallow waters of the New World like sharks, preying on merchant vessels, marine patrols, and small-time pirates. They had a staffed headquaters on Mystoria, and a new ship: a long, sleek black beast that Crocodile had named the Ebon Teeth, for its dark wood, and the great gnarled jaws it had as a figurehead.
His organization was coming back together. He had more than a half-dozen of his top agents who had gathered under him again, including Daz, who had suffered through Impel Down at his side, and Vivi, Miss Wednesday, who it seemed had had the heart of a pirate all along. He'd added more crew to his roster, too, at all levels. One of them, Isuka, a former marine and friend of Fire Fist Ace, was particularly impressive.
He was hoping to find a way to reward her hard work, and the hard work of a few of his crew, and to fill his purse besides. A reward for one of them in particular, Miss Marianne, the former Miss Goldenweek, was particularly on his mind.
She'd been practically the first to return to his side after Marineford. Even before that, she'd come to rescue him. There in that holding cell in Alabasta, on his way to Impel Down. He'd turned her down.
He owed her for that. He knew he did.
That was why he was glad that they'd gotten the Neo Baroque Works pirate empire secure enough to make a longer voyage, to an island that he hadn't visited in quite some time.
A little trip back to Paradise.
Marianne was looking out over the great blue sea, her easel before her and her handmade paints dolloped onto her palate as she worked to capture the view of the sea and the Ebon Teeth's bow on the canvas.
Back in Baroque Works, the first one, they'd gotten to sail a bit, but they were more a gang than pirates. They weren't doing all this out on the sea. But even if the sea was anathema for her with her power, she couldn't deny how pretty it was. How absolutely majestic and thought consuming.
Art should make you feel something, she and Galdino had bonded over that, and she wanted to capture the feeling of setting out on the open sea.
The crew was really coming together. They were doing piracy. Raiding ships. Sinking cowards. Setting up networks. And all alongside a crew of familiar and unfamiliar faces. She was still so glad Vivi was one of them. And Miki and Gem had even come back, something that'd soothed her worries of betrayal, along with Bentham's now longstanding return.
Things were coming up Neo-Baroque. Just as she'd hoped.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a large, warm hand on her shoulder. "Miss Marianne."
She only jolted a little, some paint dripping off her brush onto the palate as she looked up with a small smile.
"Caught me painting on the job. Darn."
Crocodile chuckled, and glanced at the easel.
"I'd dock your pay, but that would be a crime against art. It's coming along nicely."
Her captain loomed high above her, not quite twice her height, but near enough to it, with his strong, scarred face, and his dark, intense eyes, a couple of strands of his long, coal black hair escaping in front of them. He was in one of his handsome suits, as usual, coat thrown over his shoulders, making him look even larger.
Marianne felt her face take on a hint of a color not from her brush, her expression stayed firmly subtle—she was never the best at expressing emotion—as she nodded her head.
The suit wasn't the only handsome thing about Crocodile. Ever since she'd been signed on board, and started working unknowingly for him twice… once in Rain Dinners and the other as 'Miss Goldenweek', she'd admire him when he walked through the gilded halls of the casino while she worked on a mural or guest portrait.
The confidence, though…that was what showed through the best. Ever since he'd refounded the organization, since Vivi helped ground him and they fell in together, he was practically glowing with it.
Marianne had to admit it was a look she preferred to the cynical bitterness she'd seen when he was being shipped off. Even if it made her weak heart skip a beat.
"You like it? I figured it was about time someone painted a depiction of the ship. Would you hang it in your quarters?"
"If you'd let me, I'd love to. Place could do with a splash of color." He took a cigar out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers.
Marianne leaned back on her stool, balancing it on two legs as she watched him.
"Mostly blue, in this case. But…" A sly edge entered her stare. "I'm surprised Vivi hasn't insisted on a little more color, Captain."
A hint of a flush reached the barbed scar across the captain's face. "Well, she has her own room to decorate, eh? Even as often as she's in mine. If I let her decorate it, she and Daz would get into a proxy war over curtains."
Marianne was glad to have the effect she'd had, getting Crocodile to flush was no small feat. She hummed in satisfaction, nodding once.
"That'd be bad. I don't know who'd win."
Crocodile… it was obvious he didn't follow the mundane tradition of one partner at a time. Back during the days in Rain Dinners he was often seen flirting with customers, employees, and other Baroque Works members in their incognito personas. While it was noticeable, she'd just taken it as his way of ensuring repeat customers and employee loyalty.
But since arriving on the ship it was obvious that Crocodile was a man who let his heart attach to whoever he fancied. And at this point, that included a number of people on the crew. Vivi, for certain, they'd clearly fallen in love. Daz, his first mate, Bentham was too flirty NOT to have been involved… and so on.
Marianne sometimes wished that maybe she could bridge the gap into his good graces.
"All I know is it'd be scary."
"Too scary," he agreed, lighting up his cigar with a shake of his head. "But I did come to talk to you about more than just decorations for my cabin."
"Oh no, am I fired? Or are you going to commission me to paint the figurehead teal?" She teased the captain dryly, swaying her feet against the ground, scuffing them against the deck. "I'm listening, though."
He chuckled for a moment and puffed on his cigar, exhaling a long breath of smoke that was stolen by the sea breeze. He took the cigar from his lips, and casually offered it to her.
"Fired? Hardly. I wanted to talk about our heading. I'm sure you heard its Momoiro Island."
Marianne nodded her head, before she took his cigar with a subtle smile. She placed it between her lips, feeling the subtly damp leaves of the wrapping against her lips, and the tingle of smoke in her mouth. She spoke, slightly muffled by his cigar.
"Yeah, I've heard. A few people seemed pretty excited about it. I'm not sure whey we're heading there though." She looked out to the sea beyond, painting a swath of blue across the canvas. "It's a bit out of where we've been trawling."
"That's right. All the way back to Paradise, though, the near side." Crocodile watched her with an amused smile on his long mouth. "There's a certain acquaintance who's based there, that should have made their way back by now. To the so-called Kamabakka kingdom."
Marianne's eyes widened slightly, betraying her surprise.
"…oh, is that where the Kamabakka Kingdom is?"
She remembered him mentioning it before, once or twice when talking about plans for the future. An acquaintance… in the Kamabakka Kingdom, home to someone with strange abilities.
She felt her face flush somewhat. "Huh."
Crocodile grinned roguishly, and took his cigar back from her, giving it a puff. "Still interested in the body of your dreams, Miss Marianne? I told you there's man who can make it happen. Well, for a given value of man, anyway."
"On Momoiro Island…"
Crocodile had promised her not too long ago after praising her for her loyalty— her service of coming back to try and drag him out of marine custody, and later to be the first to arrive for Neo Baroque— that he'd find a way to fix her biggest problem.
Childhood malnutrition had left her gawky , and childish. Even now, when she'd long since escaped her teenage years, she barely looked out of her early teens. It was great for an assassin—nobody suspected the girl who looked like an unassuming street brat to plant a knife in their back. Nobody suspected the 'young girl' to be a spy.
It worked to her favor, but it never felt…good.
Especially with how hard it made romance. She'd found people who cared for her as her despite her appearance, Galdino for one, but he was gone. Off with the clown, last she heard. A jester or something.
Most people just passed her by in matters of the heart. But Crocodile, he'd promised to help her. This miracle worker friend, man or otherwise, would be able to reshape her into how she'd look if she hadn't been so damned sick and hungry as a girl.
"I am. You think it'll still look good on me?"
"I think that's up for you to decide, Miss Marianne," he huffed, puffing away at his cigar thoughtfully. "I think you look fine now, but I ain't the one who has to live in your body. Thank fuck. Wouldn't suit me at all, eh?"
He chuckled, smiling pleasantly at her, and leaned against the railing looking out to sea. "I don't think you need to change. But if you want to? That's another story."
"Sure wouldn't suit you… I think you'd feel too tiny and smash stuff. " She chuckled, setting her paintbrush aside. The faint taste of his cigar smoke was still lingering on her tongue.
"I don't need to, huh?" She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "I mean…that's true. I'm pretty cute, even if you did assume I was too young to drink when we met back up only half a year or so ago."
"So?" That roguish air came into his smile again as he turned to face her. "I still had them serve you at the bar, didn't I? Vice has no age limit."
Still, his scar pinked a little bit again, clearly at least a little embarrassed, or annoyed at himself, to have misjudged her age.
"Vice has no age limit," she agreed with a sly smile. "And I think I look…cute…as I am. I don't hate it. I just hate being...I dunno." She frowned a little as she leaned on her hand, smudging paint on her chin. "I hate being underestimated. Or feeling like people are treating me like a kid despite the fact that I'm absolutely not anymore."
"Damned fair thing to be pissed off about," he agreed. He rested the curve of his hook on her back. "I will say, that's a them problem. I used to get treated like a kid a lot. My solution was to make 'em bleed."
Marianne felt herself flushing again, tilting her hat up with a small smile.
"Yeah? I mean, that's kinda what I usually did too…but then they'd bleed out and the next guy wouldn't know not to ask me 'where my mommy' was."
"Yeah, it never ends, does it? People and the assumptions they make." He shook his head, and looked distantly out to sea, like he had something on his mind. "Anyway, I got a cache hidden on Momoiro, too, so we're headed there anyway. If you wanna stop and see Iva while we're there, I'm happy to."
Marianne tucked her hair over her ear.
"I'd like to. If nothing else you've got me curious." She paused before she asked. "Hey, boss?"
"Yeah, Miss Goldenweek?" He gave her a sly grin. She noticed he'd call her that any time she called him boss, instead of captain.
She did like it. The old title, but it was nice to be on a name basis with him.
"You've got something on your mind. Wanna talk about it? I'm good with secrets. I don't tell people anything."
He waved his hand, the jewels of his rings catching the light, glinting against the smoke that poured off the cigar in his mouth.
"Nah, it's nothing. Just got me thinking about when I was young, is all. Got underestimated a lot. People'd think I was a girl cause of my long hair, and I hadn't filled out yet."
"Oh…" Marianne tilted her head, looking up at him with her serious eyes before she bumped her head against his side, bouncing her hat from her head to hang by it's string around her neck.
She could hardly imagine it, anyone underestimating Crocodile, or teasing him for being 'girly'. Once upon a time, he'd been young. Looked young. Been underestimated and mistaken in a way that made him uncomfortable.
"People and their assumptions," she repeated from him, her lips in a subtle frown. "I can't imagine that felt nice. Kinda like when people think I'm a lost kid."
"Yeah." He huffed smoke through his nose with a smile that was almost a sneer. "I never took it well. Wouldn't have minded being called a girl so much if they didn't say it like an insult. Like you, and people thinking you're a kid."
"Of course, right?" she nodded emphatically against him. "It's the way they say it…calling you a girl like an insult, like it's something to be derided for… and calling me a kid. Patronizing. Condescending."
She frowned a little more. I'd be happier in my body if people weren't so unpleasant. That was the lesson Marianne had learned living in the streets.
"…there were a few who made me feel happy looking like this. But most people make me feel small."
He clunked his hook gently against her shoulder-blades. "Well, you're big to me, high ranker. But if you wanna be taller, I sure as hell am not the one to say no. I'll admit, I get salty about Doflamingo sometimes. We were the same height as kids."
That drew Marianne's attention. She leaned her head back against him with a small smile breaking though her frustration. High Ranker… when he reminded her of her position in Neo-Baroque—as a high ranking officer, as someone respected—he could believe that he thought of her as big.
Something that warmed her face and chest as his hook clunked against her.
"You were the same height as Doflamingo. Wow… he had one hell of a growth spurt, then. He's looming."
"He looms over me, it's madness," Crocodile scoffed. "And the real fucking kicker is he still wants to sit in my lap. Or… he did before Impel Down anyway. We're probably on the outs now."
"Wow." She couldn't help it slipping out of her mouth, "Doflamingo too?"
She knew Captain Crocodile was… prolific in his attachments. But somehow she hadn't expected that he and Doflamingo were that close. Especially given the flight from Dressrosa. "You've got your fingers in every pie, huh, Captain?"
Crocodile coughed, and looked away, embarrassment clearly written on his stern face. If this were the old days, she might have been executed, or at least penalized, for overhearing him slip like that. But now he just laughed under his breath and turned his cigar over in his fingers.
"Yeah, well… the bastard has always been persistent, and Warlord meetings were boring, what can I say?"
"Fair enough," Marianne nodded with a ghost of a smile on her face. "I'd probably do the same—I'm not…nearly as experienced…but during duller moments me and Galdino figured out how to 'collaborate' on 'art', so I can relate."
Crocodile's gaze whipped back to her, a dubious expression of amusement written on his face.
"Okay was he the one who called it 'collaborating on art'?"
"Yes." Marianne nodded once. "I was just gonna call it fucking and then he got embarrassed. It was cute."
The captain threw his head back and cackled, that long, slow laugh of his.
"That sounds like Galdino alright," he said as he took a breath, wiping his eye. "Well, I'm glad he was taking care of ya."
"He was,' Marianne said with a trace of a flush. "It was nice—though now he's run off to be a clown. So, I'm back in the lurch. Woe is me."
She couldn't help but smile though. That laugh, the smile on Crocodile's face. It was night and day from the time she tried to drag him out of prison.
Crocodile gave her an appraising look, the smile lingering on his face. "Woe indeed. Haven't found somebody to hook up with yet, eh?"
Marianne flushed a little deeper. It wasn't strictly true. No, Zala was incredibly affectionate, especially on nights where she really got high. There were a few times where it went beyond heavy petting in the 'lady's bedroom'. Vivi as well, had partaken more than once… several times, in the last few months when she wasn't otherwise occupied.
"When you say hook up , do you mean more regular or casual?"
"Ahh, we're getting into fine distinctions here, eh? Well… "
Crocodile's answer was cut off by a call from across the ship.
"Captain! Weather report!" It was Daz's warm, booming voice.
The captain gave Marianne a sly, apologetic look. "Guess we'll have to discuss the finer points another time."
Marianne fanned herself with her hand for a moment, composing herself with a thin smile.
"Guess so. Too bad, Captain. In the meantime, I'll be debating just how tall I'm gonna wanna get. And how stacked."
"You should draw a self portrait for it." He tapped her on the back with his hook again, and waved at Daz as he made his way over. "I'm coming, I'm coming…"
Marianne watched him swagger off, the lingering touch of his hook on her back as she fumbled for her palate again with a little smile.
"Maybe I will..." She looked over her shoulder as he retreated. "I can ask Vivi to hang it in your quarters, Captain."