Sometimes, it is hard to keep track of the year. With some sort of near-death experience happening every other week, it’s reasonable that you tend to be rather distracted. Couple your tendency to live within the moment with the fact that seasons are entirely dependent on where your ship is docked, and you can’t be held responsible for the fact you forget when December comes around.
Unsurprisingly, you are caught completely off guard when you are informed that flu season has finally arrived.
“What do you mean it’s flu season?” you howl, seizing Bepo by the front of his jumpsuit and shaking him. The bear--seemingly unruffled as you manhandle him–stares down at you, nonplussed. In other circumstances, you would find the expression cute on his furry face. But this is flu season. There is no more a dire circumstance than this.
Flu season onboard a cramped submarine was not a pleasant experience. Even with someone qualified as a doctor sitting as the crew’s captain, someone, someway, always managed to get miserably ill around this time of year. Last year, it had been Penguin. The year before that, the one who had caught the flu was Bepo. To this day, not even Law was entirely sure how the bear got sick. All are still in agreement that the incident is not to be repeated.
When Bepo fidgets anxiously, you realize he has more to say. Slowly, suspiciously, you release his jumpsuit from the clutches of your fingers. Bepo beats a few hasty steps away from you. This can’t be good.
“The crew wanted me to let you know that they’ve decided you have to handle the captain this year,” Bepo informs you, his voice quavering. You let out an indignant sound, and Bepo takes another step back.
The bear has every right to be nervous. Not one member of the crew enjoyed being tasked with handling their captain during flu season. It was an ordeal that involved the evils of not only tolerating his legendary obstinacy, but also overcoming it. The unfortunate soul would have to somehow, someway, get Law to take the flu vaccine he had worked tirelessly to develop for the rest of the crew. Every year, without fail, he insisted he didn’t need it. And, every year, without fail, someone managed to catch the flu. All of you were convinced he was the source of the illness. No one wanted to be the sick soul Law would have to attend to. He may be a good doctor, but he is not a kind one.
To this day, no one has succeeded in overcoming Law. Now, the baton was passing to you.
You did not want the baton.
“Me? Why me?” you wail. You begin pacing the deck in a vain hope of expending your nervous energy.
“Well, you’re…you have a way with the captain that no one else here does,” Bepo starts, looking particularly uncomfortable. You glance over his way, your curiosity piqued. He begins gesturing aimlessly with his paws as he continues, “I mean, you know, you’re the girl bear.”
“Oh for the love of-“ you start, your face flushing in indignant fury. You are not going to apply your feminine wiles on your captain just to convince him to take his medication like a responsible, considerate adult. Admittedly, though, the possibilities could be pretty kinky. Your mind beings seriously considering nurse costumes, but is swiftly brought back to the present when you hear a door slam. When you look up, you notice that Bepo has fled for the other members of the crew. There is safety in numbers, and he knows you won’t risk seeking him out for fear of having the crew make suggestions about how to woo Law.
You curse, and formulate your plan.
Even if you don’t want the responsibility you’ve been given, you will still take it. Partly, you’ll do what you have to in order to prove you’re one of the more responsible members of this crew. In other part, you revel in any opportunity to one-up your captain. Those chances come few and far between, and there are even fewer glories greater than defeating Law on this issue.
First, you have to get ahold of that vaccine.
It isn’t hard getting into the medical bay, considering how often everyone is usually stuck visiting it at one point or another. Most of you have access to it at any given point in the day, as Law regularly commands whatever crewmembers is on hand to go retrieve his supplies for him as it suits his whimsies. He is very, very good at bossing you all around.
In a rare occurrence, Law actually deigns to regard your presence when you enter the medical bay. Albeit, the way he is looking at you distinctly recalls something predatory. You would probably enjoy that under different circumstances. Instead, you give him a quavering smile and begin edging your way towards where you know he keeps his needles.
“(Name), good timing,” Law greets you, and you immediately know you are in for something heaped with pain or embarrassment. You begin shuffling faster. Law rises to his feet and starts his advance. “I usually have to track you down to give you your vaccine. Now I can just give it to you here.”
“Uh, yeah, on the note of vaccines, captain,” you start while obediently holding out your arm. Law doesn’t look up at you. His eyes instead are fixed to your skin as he shoves your shirtsleeve up across your bicep. “I was thinking maybe you should take it this year.”
Law’s fingers close in a vice around your elbow, and he finally meets your gaze. Despite the generally disinterested vibe he works so hard to exude, you know your captain to be a high-strung fellow. Or, at least, he is when things don’t go according to plan. He purses his lips, and you feel a familiar, cool sting as your captain wipes the antiseptic across your skin.
“Why should I?” Law asks, his voice level as he pulls the cap off of the needle with his teeth. You know that he’s just trying to get you to offer evidence that he can swat down with complicated medical jargon you don’t understand. Half of the time, you are sure the things he says aren’t even related to your topic. So, you try for a different approach.
“Because everyone else has to, and it would be fair…?” you supply, your eyes wide and lashes batting. Law gives you a steely glare and stabs you in the arm without mercy. As you ruefully clutch at your bicep, Law leans in close. He smells like disinfectant and latex.
“Life’s not fair,” Law says with finality. Standing at his full height, he stares down his nose at you. He has the gall to smirk as he flings the used needle into a nearby trashcan. “Also I’m the captain. So I don’t have to be fair.”
“You also don’t have to be an asshole, but that isn’t stopping you,” you reply dryly. Law gives a nonchalant shrug, and goes back to his seat. While his back is turned, you grab a new needle, and consider trying to stab him somewhere especially painful.
No. You had to be smart about this. You were going to get your revenge, and you were going to get it in the most satisfying way possible. Lodging a needle into your captain’s jugular wouldn’t have the long-lasting sense of victory that you really needed.
You yank your sleeve back down over your arm and trudge your way out of the medical bay. Law may have won this battle, but the war was far from finished.
The next time you see Law is at lunch.
You are in middle of the delicate process of eating a slice of pizza without removing all of its cheese in one go when Penguin slides into the seat across from yours. His shoulders are hunched and his gaze flitting nervously every which way as he laces his fingers together across the tabletop. He gives you a nod as he asks in a low murmur, “You got the goods?”
You tear off of a chunk of your pizza before leaning back in your seat to appraise your crewmate. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. You rest your hands across your belly, and watch Penguin while you let the moment drag. He’s beginning to shift anxiously when you finally reach into your pocket and pull out the needle.
“I’ll do what I can. For the sake of the crew,” you promise earnestly. After you’ve put the needle away for safekeeping, Penguin seizes your hands in his clammy ones. While you can’t see his eyes from under the brim of his hat, you know that he is staring at you. You fancy that he’s tearing up, having been moved by your self-sacrificing nature.
“Thank you, (Name). I’m sure the captain isn’t too terrible in bed. Probably. Okay, it’s debatable, but I’m sure you can-“
“I’m not going to sleep with him!” you shout, slamming your hands onto the table. The lunchroom goes completely silent as all of the crew looks your way. This situation wouldn’t be so humiliating if it weren’t for the fact that Law actually decided to socialize with his crew today. He is staring at you with obvious interest as you hastily drop back into your seat. Your voice a mere hiss, you snarl, “I have other ways of getting him to take the vaccine, Penguin.”
Penguin lets out a snort and folds his arms across his chest.
“I give it two days before you bang him.”
You are sure to lob your half-eaten pizza slice at his face when you leave your seat. There were other ways to get someone to capitulate to your whimsies. Just because you were the only woman on the crew did not mean you had to rely on your sex appeal to get something done. After all, Law had recruited you for your capabilities.
“Captain,” you say, planting yourself into the seat next to Law. He leans a cheek into his hand as he watches you settle in before simply asking,
“Who aren’t you going to sleep with?”
You are sorely tempted to just stand right back up and leave, but refrain. You are doing this for the wellbeing of your crewmates. They are grinning widely at you from behind Law’s back. No, you decide, you aren’t doing this for your crewmates. You are doing this for yourself.
“None of your business,” you reply primly as you smooth out your shirtfront. Truth be told, it really wasn’t his business who you slept with. Not that you had a sex life. Surprisingly, being a pirate was terrible for your sex life. You did not anticipate that when you agreed to join Law’s crew.
You would probably have a better sex life if Law didn’t show up on your dates at random, holding a still-beating heart, and claiming it belonged to your last romantic partner. You knew he derived a sick sense of joy from watching you suffer. It was the only reason he sabotaged your personal life like he did. If he ever got a girlfriend, you were going to make his life a living hell.
Back in the present, Law gives you a lazy grin and easily replies, “I don’t know, I think I should know if there’s some random person you’re sleeping with. I’m your doctor. What if you catch something and sleep with someone else here? By the way you’re due for a pap smear.”
“Never again!” you snap, your hands waving wildly. That had been the single most awkward moment of your life, somehow beating out the time Bepo caught you making out with Roronoa Zoro’s wanted poster. Had your crewmates not stuck you in this position, you would almost pity them for their prostate exams. Sadly, those weren’t coming up until spring, so you couldn’t enjoy their suffering for another few months. Nevertheless, you could still start doling out some pain upon your traitorous crewmates. Meeting Law’s eyes, you state, “Also, Penguin says you’re terrible in bed.”
Law’s expression morphs from smug amusement to confused horror in only seconds. Somehow managing not to cackle gleefully, you turn slowly to meet eyes with Penguin from across the room. He is looking at Law with terror in his gaze.
As Law stammers, you decide your suffering up until now has been worth it.
You decide to do the proper, moral thing, and attempt to bribe your captain. Law is hunting the last of the crew who haven’t met one of his needles when you manage to corner him.
“I’ve been unreasonable,” you admit, your hands laced behind your back. Law glances over his shoulder at you, allowing Shachi the chance to scramble for safety. “I haven’t given you any good incentive to take your vaccine, and that’s not fair to you, Captain.”
“Incentive?” Law repeats. He’s attempting to appear disinterested, though you know you’ve piqued his curiosity. As he pockets away his needle, you step in closer to him. Head angled, you attempt to appear coquettish as you look up at him through your lashes.
“I’ve decided that I’ll give you something you want if you let me administer your vaccine,” you explain. Law stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and waits for you to continue. “So, name your price. I can meet it.”
Years of serving under Law have enlightened you to his relative unpredictability. While he was by no means as spontaneous as a certain rubbery pirate, he enjoyed any opportunity where he could throw the unsuspecting for a loop. With this in mind, you had realized during your plan’s formation that while it would be easy to throw random bribes his way, you’d have very little chance of guessing anything your captain would actually want. Law was a secretive fellow, in his own way. This wasn’t to say he was a discreet man, however. The fact he chose to ride around in a yellow submarine said as much.
“That’s a bold statement, (Name),” Law remarks, sounding amused. You might think he was impressed by your bravado, if not for the fact you actually know him. Law was too much of a glory hog to enjoy the company of someone too impressive. It was why he could only tolerate Luffy in short bursts before he lost his cool. Those were good times. You always enjoy the chance to see Law flustered.
“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. Name your price,” you say flatly. Inwardly, you’ll admit you’re apprehensive about what could come next. Law could ask for anything. He might ask for an exorbitant amount of money. He might ask for Doflamingo’s head. He might even ask you to be his guinea pig in his next experiment. You knew you had no chance of being able to provide any of those. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pretend you would provide before stabbing him with his own medicine.
Of course you would need to hide for a very, very long time afterwards, but you rationalize that it will be worth it.
Law leans back on his heels and stares up at the ceiling for a long moment. You know he is making you wait in order to see you squirm. With a growl, you fold your arms across your chest and stubbornly refuse to play into his game. Finally, he fixes his steely eyes on you and declares, “You.”
“Me?” you ask, befuddled. He’s staring at you, his expression unreadable, which is in itself a terrible sign. Law usually let you know where he stood. You consider his request before letting out a snort and waving a hand dismissively, “You already have me. I’m your crew.”
Law bends at the waist so that the two of you are eye level. You resist the urge to take a step back, and meet his unnerving stare.
“No, I want all of you,” Law explains slowly. You squint back at him suspiciously before glancing down at your body. Law sighs loudly. “I don’t honestly know how to make this more obvious, (Name).”
The realization hits you like that time you’d agreed to spar with Bepo. In other words, the realization hits you like a polar bear with a mastery of kung fu. You let out a gasp, your hands rising to your cheeks. Law regards you with cool disinterest until you whisper in horrified realization, “I am the girl bear.”
“You’re the what?” Law asks, his face scrunching up much like whenever someone offers him bread. Sometimes, it’s annoying when he makes that face. For some reason, you are suddenly struck by the thought that it’s actually kind of adorable. You had no idea what is wrong with you.
With a cough, you straighten up and try to compose yourself. This was a serious matter. For one, your captain wanted to get into your pants. For another, this provided an ample opportunity to finally touch his butt without him slicing you in half. You take this opportunity like the pirate you are.
Seizing Law by the front of his coat, you yank him down to your level with a ferocious tug that has him stumbling bodily into you. You pay his clumsiness no heed, instead concentrating on the stunned look painted across his features. Deep down, you know opportunities to see your captain this out of sorts come few and far between. It would be wise to relish it. You decide you are also going to relish the way he tastes because you have your mouth across his before he can even voice his surprise.
He softens, all at once. Or, perhaps, he goes slack, his mouth open to yours. He is surprisingly submissive, considering his character, but you take charge as if you were born for this moment. You think you are with how easily your arms drape across his shoulders and how naturally your tongue finds a rhythm with his. He is stiff and unsure, even when you pull away from him with a gasp.
He stares down at the line of saliva connecting your mouths before suddenly grabbing at your waist and pulling you into him. You bend, compliant, mouth open under his and fingers fisting into the fabric at his shoulders like a lifeline. He hoists you up all at once, effortless and desperate, and you can feel the way the muscles at his back work as he all but slams you into the wall. His teeth are at your throat, his breath sticky humidity against your skin, and you moan as he rasps his tongue across the pulse fluttering wildly at your neck.
“Shirt-!” you gasp, your voice surprisingly low in your ears. Law complies, yanking down his collar with two long fingers, and buttons pop and skitter across the ground. You watch with wide eyes as he desperately tosses it away and reaches back for you like he needs you against him. He kisses you so hard you feel your head collide with the wall, but the pain is worth it for the way his moan fills your mouth and tingles all the way to your toes. One arm curled around his neck, you reach back into your pocket as you feel his large hands splay across your middle. You fumble against his bicep, and the muscles in his arm jump against your fingers.
And then, you stab your needle into his arm.
Law stops all at once, his body rigid against yours. Slowly, you pull away from him, just enough so that you can see the look on his face. It is beautiful and incredulous and you will treasure it forever.
You waggle your needle before his eyes as you gloat, “You make things terribly difficult for me, Captain.”
Law speaks, his voice a low and dangerous, “You didn’t even disinfect it.”
“You would have caught on.”
Law frowns long and hard at you before asking, “Is that why you kissed me?”
The question catches you off guard. For a few, long seconds, you’re left to blink at him before you let out a loud snort.
“No! Well, I mean, it gave me an opportunity. But if I’d known you wanted to kiss me like that sooner, I would have jumped you ages ago,” you admit shamelessly. Law adjusts his hold on you and the tension in his shoulders goes lax.
“Do you have any more needles?” Law asks, squinting down at you suspiciously. You give him a cheeky smile.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Good,” Law says with finality, and kisses you again.