Chapter Text
With heart pounding and fingers slightly trembling, he slipped the paperwork back into the manila envelope and closed the top flap. Setting the packet on the marble countertop, he folded his hands in his lap and took a long, deep breath. His stomach did a flip, but not the kind that was precursor to nausea, no, this was the good kind. This flip had been soft, gentle, the kind he would feel before a match, pushing excitement up into his chest and sending shivers down his arms, pumping the blood faster through his veins.
He couldn’t wait to tell Sanji.
He sat for a while, reading and re-reading the return address printed on a sticker and placed on the top left-hand corner of the envelope. It was standard font, purple, and framed with red and gold intertwining lines. It was only after realizing that he had been tracing those lines with his eyes for nearly ten minutes that he tore his gaze away from those gaudy but beautiful colors, searching for something to keep his attention.
Across the “baby dojo” the apartment’s corner windows were shimmering, seemingly alive underneath a sudden and heavy afternoon rain.
Seattle rain was not like anywhere else. Sometimes in the emerald city, the sun would still be shining when the water fell like liquid jewels, dancing down the panes of glass to pool and create mirrors of light on the outside sill or the balcony.
It was beautiful, and extraordinary, like the news sitting in the small stack of papers closed in that manila envelope.
Just when he felt he couldn’t wait another minute, he heard a key turn in the lock, and the door opened. Paper bags rustled, and the smart clack of loafers on the wood floor rang out in the entry.
“Zoro!” Sanji’s voice betrayed the smile that no doubt pulled at his lips. “You wouldn’t believe the line at checkout! I went to Phinney instead of Fremont and holy shit that was a mistake.”
Sanji turned the corner and moved into the kitchen. His handsome face was flushed, and the rain had dampened his shaggy blond hair. Zoro watched as he twisted this way and that, setting bags on the counter, putting things away even before he had unloaded his burdens.
“All worth it though, in the end. The lamb shoulder I got is enormous.” Sanji was grinning. “It’s like the universe knew today was the first day of my vacation. The oranges are super fresh too, this is gonna be epic.”
Zoro felt his heart swell as he watched his husband open cabinets and slam drawers while juggling an armful of brightly colored oranges. The way Sanji moved in the kitchen was so much like the way he moved on the mats, all fluid and grace. It was like a dance when he was in the full swing of cooking, and appreciating that dance was by far one of Zoro’s favorite activities.
The fridge opened. “How was work?” Zoro had enough of his head to catch the beer that came sailing over the island straight at him, but not quite enough to make words yet, so his answer was a simple shrug of his shoulders and a soft grunt. Without really thinking about it, he unclipped his keys from the carabiner on his jeans and popped the bottle’s cap with his bottle opener, then he took a swallow and laid his keys on the countertop.
Finally, Sanji turned to him. He had a curious expression on his face.
“You okay?” he asked.
Zoro nodded, and let his eyes drift down to the envelope. Talking a slow, deep breath, he chose his words carefully.
“I remembered to pick up the mail on the way in.”
“Woa,” Sanji grinned and took a sip of his own beer, “who are you?” Making his way around the island, he slid up next to the stool where Zoro sat and placed a firm kiss into green hair.
“Anything interesting?”
Zoro let the slightest of smiles pull at the corners of his mouth and he nodded. Then, using the head of his beer, he pointed to the envelope.
“You might want to take a look at that.”
Sanji’s eyes moved to the counter, and his body stilled.
“Is that…?”
Zoro nodded.
There was a soft click as Sanji sat down his beer, and then a pale hand reached out to take the packet from the marble surface.
“Oh my God,” Sanji whispered, “is it… I mean…”
Zoro nodded, his smile widening.
“Yes.”
He watched Sanji’s face as he opened the envelope and read the words Zoro had read only a half hour ago. Blue eyes widened slowly and Zoro felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to laugh. Not because anything was particularly funny, but because at that moment, he was so filled with joy he felt he might actually boil over.
“Holy shit,” Sanji was breathless now. One of his hands came up and he scratched roughly at his goatee. “Jesus, six to eight weeks. Oh my God.”
Setting his bottle on the counter, Zoro stood and put his hands on Sanji’s arms. “I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. I wanted… to see your face.”
Sanji looked up from the paperwork and his smile was radiant. “So? How do I look?”
Zoro shrugged, his heart fluttering, “A lot like how I feel right now.”
Puffing a laugh through his teeth, Sanji set the paperwork aside and slid his hands down Zoro’s hips. He moved in close and placed a chaste kiss on Zoro’s smiling lips.
“So, are we celebrating? Or…”
Zoro laughed and kissed Sanji again, melted into his embrace, and let his husband’s desire sweep him away.
Due to Sanji’s filming schedule—not to mention the restaurant, and Zoro with his coaching, they had not made love in several weeks. Being able to touch Sanji like this, to kiss him and hold him, to have his clothes pulled gently from his body and be pressed down onto their bed was like coming back to heaven. The two saw each other every day, but were usually too tired to share anything more than lingering kisses or holding each other tightly as they fell asleep.
Now, as Sanji slid into him slowly, and kissed him tenderly on his cheeks, Zoro felt that joy from earlier, his passion and his love, finally spill over. He wrapped his legs around strong hips and slid his fingers through soft, blond hair. “Love you…” he whispered breathlessly. Sanji rocked into him, rolled his hips in that way only Sanji could, sending pleasure and electricity and want and love pulsing through every part of him. “Love you too…” Sanji’s voice was also breathless, but also just a little rough, like his throat was tight. “…I love you so much.”
Over the years, sex with Sanji had gone from amazing, to unbelievable, to almost tantric. He could keep Zoro on the brink for hours if he wanted, just on the verge of coming, but somehow holding it just out of reach. It drove Zoro crazy, but it always happened to be exactly what Zoro wanted. What he needed. As the sun started to sink behind the horizon, and the light in their bedroom turned from a bright yellow, to orange, and then to a deep gold, Sanji pushed Zoro past his limits. The two of them moved together slowly, sweat dripping from their bodies. They breathed each other’s air, tasted each other’s skin, and when Zoro finally found himself slipping, tumbling into orgasm, Sanji was there, stroking him easily and murmuring his sweet nothings against his throat.
After, Sanji got up and stretched before he moved into the bathroom. Zoro lay on his back, diagonally across the bed, breathing deeply. He was sore, and tired, but sated. When Sanji returned, he had his e-cig and puffed happily as he crawled up into the bed and stretched out on his stomach next to Zoro. Their bodies touched from ankle to shoulder, and Zoro turned to watch as Sanji inhaled on the metal tube and then blew out a stream of smoke that smelled faintly of apples.
“So,” Sanji turned to him, “we buying that house then?”
Zoro smiled. “Which one? The one in Queen Anne, or the one down by Lincoln Park?”
“Which one had that enormous garage?”
“I think the one in Queen Anne,” Zoro lifted his hands and rubbed at this face. “I thought you liked the kitchen in the one by Lincoln Park though?”
Sanji puffed and blew out another stream of smoke. “The kitchens in both are incredible, but that one with the garage, you said you and Usopp could insulate the walls and make a studio out of it. You could give private lessons. Besides, the one in Queen Anne is closer to both our jobs.”
Zoro nodded, thinking about the cottage style house with the beautiful yard and all the polished wood. “Yeah… I did like that one.”
“So?” Sanji was smiling at him.
Shrugging, but only to be purposefully contrary, Zoro sighed. “I don’t know, maybe we should go see it again?”
Sanji chuckled. “Babe, we already know what it looks like.”
“I know.” The way Sanji hair was falling into his eyes, and that flush just barely touching those pale cheeks, stirred something inside of Zoro and he wanted Sanji again.
He rolled and placed a kiss on Sanji’s shoulder. Then he touched his fingers across that pale back, slowly sliding his palm down to cup that perfect, muscled ass.
“How many bedrooms?” Zoro asked.
“Four.”
Laughing, Zoro used his palm and his thumb to massage circles into firm flesh. “We don’t need four rooms.”
“Yeah, we do,” Sanji lowered his head to rest on his folded arms. His eyes were still on Zoro. “Guest bedroom, office, you won’t need a weight room since your converting the garage, but we could use an extra food storage, maybe a playroom for a puppy.”
“Cat room,” Zoro smiled and lowered his head to kiss Sanji’s shoulder again. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”
“Yeah?”
“They take care of themselves.”
“True.”
He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Sitting up, Zoro threw a leg over Sanji’s hips and slid both hands up both sides of Sanji’s lower back. When he pressed his thumbs into the tense muscles at the bottom of the ribcage, Sanji groaned.
“Oh my god, is this a treat? Am I getting a treat tonight, Zoro?”
Zoro bent and laid a few open-mouthed kisses along Sanji’s spine as he worked his fingers into muscle knots. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Shit…” Sanji’s voice was breathy and deliciously low. There was a soft clatter as he dropped his e-cig on the bedside table, and then both of Sanji’s hands were grasping the sheets at the edge of the mattress.
“You haven’t fucked me in months,” Sanji whispered.
“I know,” Zoro spoke into the shell of Sanji’s ear and he could feel the tremor his voice evoked. “It’s what you get for being so damn good at sex.”
Sanji laughed into the sheets and arched his back. “Lube’s by your pillow. Rub it in a little bit or it’s too fucking cold.”
Laughing, Zoro opened the bottle. “It hasn’t been so long that I’ve forgotten how to do it.”
“Well, you never know, you might have just… ah… oh fuck…”
Sanji’s body was almost scorching. The heat that surrounded Zoro seemed to lick through him all the way to his bones. When Sanji arched up his length slid almost unbelievable deep and he groaned into the skin between Sanji’s shoulder blades.
“You’re so sexy,” Zoro whispered, “you’re gonna kill me.”
Sanji made a noise into the sheets and then lifted his head. “I missed this.”
It was rougher this time, but that seemed to be the way Sanji liked it when he was on the bottom. Zoro braced himself on his hands, but kept himself low enough to kiss across Sanji’s temple and down his cheek. He kept his pace slow, not the agonizing roll that Sanji was so unbelievably good at, but a hard pulse, a snap of hips against hips that had Sanji shuddering and keening beneath him.
When he felt that beautiful body start to tense, he gripped Sanji’s arm and rolled them. He lay back with Sanji’s back against his chest, and then he bent his legs, digging his heels into the mattress.
“Shit…” Sanji had lifted his hands and was pulling at Zoro’s hair. “Shit shit shit…”
Both hands found Sanji’s length and as one stroked him the other cupped his sack. When Zoro’s head burrowed into a pale neck, Sanji’s head fell all the way back across Zoro’s shoulder. Their pace picked up and soon they were rutting fiercely, Zoro’s legs pushing up and Sanji’s hips hammering down.
Finally, Sanji arched, gasping and cursing and Zoro jerked his length hard. The fingers that tugged at his hair tightened their grip and that tiny amount of pain was all Zoro needed. He growled into Sanji’s mouth as his orgasm rolled through him. It was less intense than the first time, but it was still overwhelming, making his breath shudder and his limbs shake with fatigue.
Sanji collapsed over him and they lay like that for several minutes, just breathing and watching the patterns of shadow dance across the ceiling.
“Fuck…” Sanji said.
“Yeah,” Zoro grinned into his hair.
“You hungry?”
“Starving.”
Sanji turned and kissed the tip of Zoro’s nose. “I can’t believe how amazing this vacation is going and it’s only been, what,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “three hours?”
“Yeah, three-ish.”
Chuckling, Sanji got up and started towards the bathroom. Before he disappeared however, he turned back and smiled.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hm?” Zoro got up on his elbows.
“Congratulations.”
Zoro smiled back, his heart fluttering once again.
“You too.”
* * *
It was almost four in the afternoon before Chopper realized he was supposed to have gone home at one thirty. Not that it really mattered, he had nothing planned for the evening and there were stacks of paperwork that needed processing. Best he got at least some of it done.
Sighing, he ran his fingers through his unruly, brown hair and then placed his hands on the small of his back. He stretched carefully, easing his abdominal muscles to lengthen and loosen, and then slowly leaned to one side. He was sore and tired, and unable to remember the last time he had eaten. He might have a granola bar in the breakroom, or perhaps an apple. Maybe Law had left some of that fried rice he had brought in last night.
Not that he was particularly hungry, he just knew his body needed food at least once a day.
After stretching his opposite side, Chopper stood and grabbed his water bottle from the adjacent desk. It was cool and refreshing against his dry mouth and throat. He finished it off and tossed it in the recycle bin by the door before he stepped out into the main office. There was no one around, but Chopper could hear music playing from one of the autopsy rooms.
He suddenly wanted coffee.
He turned and started to make his way toward the front. If he was going to leave, he was going to let Carl, the front desk manager, know he was heading out.
Unfortunately, when he opened the doors to the front lobby, Carl was not there, but there was a young man in a plane, black suite and tie, leaning over the counter signing the log book.
“Hi,” Chopper said.
The young man looked up and swept jet-black hair out of his eyes.
“Hey,” he said and straightened. “I’m Detective Petruzziello.” His smile was wide and friendly, and Chopper liked him immediately.
“That’s quite a mouthful,” Chopper snarked.
“Ah, yeah, it’s a hurtle.” He fished out a badge and flashed it. “I work for Seattle’s West Precinct. I was wondering if I could speak to Doctor Mallory?”
“I’m sorry, Doctor Mallory’s out at a conference in Vegas. She’s gone all the rest of this week and next.”
“Damn,” Petruzziello sighed.
Chopper slipped his hands into his pockets and moved forward to lean against the counter. The detective’s features were dark, he looked as Italian as his name sounded. Also, his face was handsome in a playful kind of way, and those bright green eyes were kind and gentle even in the midst of his distress.
“What do you need?” Chopper asked. “Maybe I can help you.”
“Uh, maybe. I don’t know.”
That caused a smile to pull at the corners of Chopper’s mouth. “I’m not just wearing a lab coat for fun, I’m a doctor. What do you need?”
Petruzziello sighed again and scratched at his chin. “I’m a new detective. I was promoted last week, and tomorrow I’m going to meet my new partner. He’s flying in from somewhere today and he’s this big-shot hero that’s already got a million cases under his belt. We’re assigned this huge thing and I just wanted to… I don’t know, get a little information before I meet him.”
“Aren’t there case-files at the precinct?” Chopper asked.
“Of course, I’ve read them a thousand times. Memorized what I could.”
Chopper nodded. “That’s good. Now you want to get eyes on a victim?”
Nodding, Petruzziello studied the floor. “They put me with this guy because I’m the newbie. I’m a blank slate without any bad habits that won’t trip up this new super-cop. And that’s cool, that’s fine, I just want to… I don’t know.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and glanced up at Chopper. “I don’t want to disappoint him, is all.”
Those eyes were very, very green.
Chopper nodded. Petruzziello was young, new, and aching to be taken seriously. Chopper understood that feeling better than anyone.
“Come on,” he said. “We have an acting city coroner while Doctor Mallory is away, but it doesn’t really matter. I have access to everything. I’ll walk you through.”
“Oh man, thanks!” Petruzziello cried. “That’s really nice of you… uh, what’s your name?”
“Just call me Chopper.”
“Chopper? That’s cool.”
Open cases were usually filed in the coroner’s office, so Chopper unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. Papers covered everything, and there was more than one empty coffee mug on every surface. Not surprisingly, it was a lot cleaner in here than usual. Law was a bit more organized than Mallory was.
“It’s kind of like that show,” Petruzziello said, “CSI or whatever. I thought morgue offices in real life were all grey and dingy.”
“Most are,” Chopper said as he made his way over to the stack of files on Mallory’s desk. “But this office has private funding.”
“Oh, that’s lucky.”
“Yeah. Okay, so what’s the case?”
“Number seven-seven-three-three-eight-nine.”
Chopper froze. The detective had said that so easily, as if that number didn’t mean anything special at all. When he looked up, Petruzziello was looking sheepishly out the window, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chopper breathed. “If you’re messing around trying to get—”
“—No, no, I swear to God. There really is a super-cop coming from out of state to take over and I’ve been assigned as his partner ‘cause no one else wants it.”
Chopper stared at him, stunned. “And… you want it?”
Petruzziello shrugged. “I’m young, but I’m good at my job. I joined the force to help people, and solving this case is going to help a lot of people.”
Something stirred in Chopper’s gut at those words. At that moment, Petruzziello sounded a hell of a lot like Sanji. Like Law… like Luffy. He looked up into those bright green eyes and felt that familiar tightness in his chest. He was such a sucker for the hero type, the protector, the selfless man.
“Ah, okay,” Chopper said, “it’s this entire stack right here.”
An hour later, Petruzziello pushed open the doors and took a breath. He glanced back at Chopper and nodded. “Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.”
Chopper shook his head. “It was nothing. Glad to help.”
“My partner will probably want to come by tomorrow, so I’ll probably see you again.”
Chopper’s fingers and toes tingled at those words, but he shoved his hands into his pockets and made tight fists. “Well, then I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Detective Pet… um…”
Petruzziello smiled wide, and Chopper’s heart skipped a beat.
“You can call me Penguin. Everyone at the station does.”
Chopper chuckled. “Okay, see you around, Detective Penguin.”
Penguin saluted, stepped outside, and the doors closed behind him.
* * *
When Chopper arrived home, the first thing he heard was someone screaming on the television in the living room. He set his bag down, slipped off his shoes, and moved into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed a can of Coca Cola, realizing he still hadn’t eaten since probably the night before. Nothing in the fridge looked that appetizing however, so he sipped at his drink and stepped into the living room.
Law was sprawled across the couch in a black, long-sleeved top and pajama pants covered with storm troopers. His hair was wild, and his eyes were still puffy from sleep.
“Hey,” Chopper said.
Law turned to him and smiled groggily. “What’s up?”
“What time do you go in?”
“Uhhh,” Law looked at his watch, “I have about an hour and a half.”
Chopper waited for Law to sit up and scooch to the side so he could sit. “What are you watching?”
Law looked away guiltily. “Stranger Things?”
Chopper grabbed one of the couch pillows and tossed it at his roommate. “You son of a bitch! You said you’d wait and watch it with me!”
Law chuckled and batted the pillow away. “That was literally months ago. I couldn’t wait anymore.”
Chopper growled menacingly but sat back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m only a few episodes in,” Law said. “I’ll watch them again with you. Or you could catch up tonight while I’m at work.”
Chopper shrugged. “I’ll just catch up.” Then remembering today, he turned. “So, there’s a new detective on the Frankenstein case. Well, two actually, they handed it off completely.”
Law’s eyes widened. “Oh, thank God. The whole thing’s driving Smoker insane.”
“He’s cool,” Chopper said quietly, “the one I met, I mean. He’s new, just got promoted.”
When Law didn’t say anything, Chopper glanced to the side and caught him staring, a sly smile quirking the side of his mouth.
“What?” Chopper sighed.
“Nothin’.”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Rolling his eyes, Chopper took another sip of his drink and went back to watching some teenagers break another teenager’s camera. It was actually kind of upsetting.
He felt Law shift closer and a gentle fluttering started in his chest.
“You look worn out,” Law said gently. “Did you eat?”
“Yeah,” Chopper lied.
“Are you lying?”
Chopper sighed again and leaned forward to set his can on the coffee table. “I’m not hungry. I’m fresh off a sixteen-hour shift—”
“—Which was supposed to be a twelve.”
“Yeah, yeah, but the detective came in. Anyway, I’m tired so I’m going to sleep and then I promise I’ll eat when I get up. I’ll go to the Japanese deli down on Fourth and I’ll get a bunch of those rice ball things you like.”
Law pumped a fist. “Yes, you’re the man, Chopper.”
Chopper snorted. “Right.”
They sat for a few minutes, watching the show. Chopper was completely lost at first, but then he began trying to piece together what was happening.
“So, Will’s been abducted by aliens?”
“Uh, no I don’t think so,” Law shook his head. “It’s definitely some sci-fi shit though. Here, I’ll start it over.”
He reached for the remote and Chopper felt a sudden panic rise in his throat. “No! You don’t have to, it’s okay! I’m gonna go to bed now anyw—”
“—Chopper.” Law’s voice was firm, but gentle. When Chopper looked at him, he was settling down in the corner of the couch and pulling the blanket from the back. “Come here,” he said gently, gesturing with his hand.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll just—”
“—I got an hour before I have to start getting ready. I’ll watch the first one with you. Come on.”
Nervous, but comforted by Law’s thoughtfulness, Chopper climbed over to lean against Law’s warm body. He felt the blanket come over him and then the gentle press of Law’s arm around his shoulders.
“Relax, buddy,” Law whispered into his hair, “I got you.”
Chopper felt his tension ease a little and he was able to watch the first twenty or so minutes of the show without fidgeting. When he felt Law’s fingers slide into his hair, his body relaxed even further. His arm came out and went around a muscled waist, and then little by little, his self-consciousness started to ebb away.
“I worry about you, you know,” Law said suddenly. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, and his breath puffed into the curls at Chopper’s temple.
That fluttering returned, but Chopper was able to keep it under control.
“I could say the same.”
“But I’m not extending my shifts four and five hours voluntarily. I haven’t cut myself off from my friends, or lost almost twenty pounds.”
“I haven’t cut myself off from anyone,” the lie slid past his lips as easily as his lie about eating had a half an hour ago.
When Law’s fingers moved from his hair, down to the back of his neck, Chopper’s breath grew shallow. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Law was always physical with him. He never pressured, and he never made it feel like Chopper had to respond or even do anything at all, but there was always the possibility hanging there between them. The gentle invitation.
When the first episode ended, Chopper found himself wanting to watch the next, but he was so tired. He sat up, pulling the blanket with him. “Do you want me to bring the rice balls tomorrow morning?” he asked.
Law smiled and stretched. “That would be awesome.”
“Okay, have a good night. Good luck with your first night shift.”
He stood and started to move toward the stairs, still wrapped in the blanket. The soft fabric trailing along the carpet behind him. He froze when he felt Law’s hand on his arm.
“Hey,” Law said, and his voice was still low, still just barely above a whisper.
“Hm?” Chopper turned and when he looked into those steel gray eyes, he felt a shiver roll through him.
There was a moment, just a half of a heartbeat, where it seemed as if Law was about to cry. But then he blinked and took a breath, and smiled softly.
“Naw, never mind. I’ll see you later.”
Chopper nodded and headed upstairs, there was no point in pressing Law when he had made up his mind. He changed out of his work clothes and into soft, cotton pants and a white, Seattle Public Library t-shirt. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he crawled into bed.
He fell asleep right away and didn’t think about Law, or the handsome detective, or anyone else.
Not at all.
* * *
Several miles away in Tacoma, about a quarter past six o’clock, flight number eight-one-three-six, Sacramento California to Seattle Washington, landed on the tarmac. Sighs and a few short cheers rang out through the cabin. It had been somewhat of a rough flight, and all two hundred and six passengers were relieved and thankful to have arrived in one piece.
Detective Dalton Drum, formerly in charge of the Sacramento Police Department’s organized crime division, refolded his jacket over his lap and turned to the little boy sitting beside him.
“See? That bump was the landing gear hitting the ground.”
The little boy, his name was Lucas, smiled at him, the gaps in his two rows of baby teeth were glaring and somehow adorable.
“Can you fly a plane, Mr. Dalton?”
Dalton made a “so-so” motion with his hand. “A little. I took some lessons a few years ago. Do you want to fly a plane?”
Lucas shook his head. “I’m gonna be a astronaut.”
“Wow, that’s amazing!” It made sense, the kid knew more about space than he thought was possible for a five-year-old. “Do you know how to swim?”
Puzzled, Lucas nodded. “Yeah, I have lessons every Tuesday. I can do the crawl stroke. Why?”
“Because astronauts have to do a lot of training in the water.”
“Why?” Lucas’ eyes were wide.
“Because you float in the water, just like you float in space. When you’re in the spaceship, it’s like you’re swimming in air.”
“Wow! Really!?”
Dalton nodded and threw a smile over Lucas’ head to his mother. The woman was hiding a grin behind her fingers.
“Mr. Dalton?” Lucas asked, suddenly serious. “Are you going to catch all the bad guys?”
Returning that serious gaze, Dalton nodded. “I’m going to try.”
Lucas nodded and motioned for Dalton to come close. He cupped his hands around his mouth and whispered softly. “That’s good. Everybody is really scared right now because of the monster.”
“The monster?”
Lucas nodded. “Yeah, the guy on the news. The one that’s hurting all those people. My mom cries whenever she sees stuff about him.”
Dalton’s heart did a little lurch and he reached out to ruffle Lucas’ auburn hair. “I’m definitely going to catch that guy. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I will.”
Lucas smiled wide again. “Okay. I’ll look for your picture on the news.”
When the plane finally came to a complete stop Dalton stood and opened the overhead bin. He took down Lucas and his mother’s bags and parted ways with them at the gate.
“Goodbye Mr. Dalton!” Lucas waved cheerfully. “Good luck with your new job! I hope your boss isn’t a hard-ass!”
Dalton laughed heartily as Lucas’ mother tried to scold him around her own surprised laughter.
The air was wet and metallic even inside the airport, but it was good, the smell was nostalgic and comforting. He had been breathing dry, dusty California air for too long. It was nice to finally be home.
He rode the tram connected to his gate, and then took the escalator towards baggage claim. Before he reached the top, he had already spotted the head of silvery hair and the terrible scar that made its way from forehead to cheekbone.
“Damn good to see you, man,” Smoker clapped him on the back.
“You too,” Dalton couldn’t help but smile. Smoker looked exactly the same as he had three years ago. Nothing had changed. He might even be wearing the same suit and tie.
“Your stuff came yesterday. I didn’t unpack anything, but I made sure the movers were careful. It’s all inside, not even a spare inch of space to move around. You should have bought a bigger place.”
Dalton chuckled. “It’s as big as I need it to be. I was going to buy one on the reservation, but it’s too far from the precinct.”
“You got any more bags?”
“Just a couple duffels.”
“All right, let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had collected Dalton’s two army duffle bags and had taken them to the parking garage. They tossed the duffels in the back of Smoker’s truck and headed out.
“You hungry?”
Dalton shook his head. “I had a sandwich on the plane.”
“You want me to just take you home?”
“Actually,” Dalton said, a little cooler than he felt, “I was wondering if we could drop off my stuff and I could head to the office? I’ve been sitting on my hands since the transfer, so I’d really like to just get to work.”
Smoker shrugged. “Up to you, I’d love it if you came in. You can meet your new partner. He’s young, but he’s sharp. Been working his ass off the last week to prepare himself for this assignment. You’ll like him.”
Dalton nodded. “I’m sure I will.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket and Dalton smiled. There was only one person that could be.
Ace: U here?
Dalton: Define ‘here’. I’m always here. Wherever you go there you are they say
Ace: No. Ur not allowed to make dad jokes cause then I laugh at them
Ace: That means I’m old
Dalton: Technically we are both allowed to make dad jokes. Since the ‘dad’ in that title applies to both of us
Ace: Yeah but I’m still not old enough to think dad jokes are funny
Dalton: Are you calling me old?
Ace: U never answered my question
Dalton: In smoked car now. Going to stop by home real quick and then to the office
Dalton: My phone just autocorrected Smoker to smoked
Ace: I like it. Tell him his name is officially changed
Dalton: I’ll call you tomorrow?
Ace: Yes. And u said you would come to the BBQ on Friday
Ace: U have to come
Ace: Late birthday party for me
Ace: U can’t be one of us if you don’t eat with us
Dalton: Yes, of course I’ll come
Ace: YAS
Ace: Ok see you later
Dalton: Say hello to Vivi for me
Ace: I will. Night
Dalton: Night
It would have been a quick thing to just drop off the bags and go, but Smoker made him take a moment, change his clothes, and then down a quick protein shake before they headed back out. By the time they made it to the station, it was after eight. Dalton was a little disappointed because he was sure his new partner would not still be there, but it turned out he was.
“Detective Drum this is Detective Peng… I mean, Detective Petru… uh… zill… Goddamnit, kid, I still can’t get it right.”
The young detective smiled stiffly and put out his hand. “Detective Petruzziello. Good to meet you, sir.”
Dalton could feel his face flush as they shook. “No, please, Petruzziello, you don’t have to call me ‘sir’. ‘Dalton’ is fine.”
“Uh, okay… Dalton. Everyone here just calls me Penguin.”
Dalton found himself laughing again. “Really? I like that.”
Penguin’s smile went from formal, to genuine, and at that moment, Dalton found himself sure that the two of them were going to get along.
“I was thinking,” Dalton said, “if you got a little time now, I’d love to go over some of the details of the case. I hear you’re already kind of an expert.”
Penguin’s eyes widened at that and he nodded fiercely, “Yes! Yes, absolutely! I have a ton of questions, and I know, unlike some people around here,” at this he eyed Smoker playfully, “you’ll actually be able to answer them.”
Smoker grunted and waved his hand dismissively.
Dalton nodded, excitement starting to simmer in his gut. “All right, let’s get to it then.”
* * *
“Mitch! Please don’t forget to empty the containers before you go home tonight! Morning shift is not happy with you for leaving it last time!”
Law heard some kind of non-committal response as he left autopsy room three. He wasn’t worried about it though, the people he worked with were good people and had no problems with him taking over while Doctor Mallory was away.
The coroner’s office was cluttered, but not as much as usual. In between reports and write-ups and actual autopsies, Law found a few minutes here and there to clean and organize a bit of the chaos. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, since five minutes after Mallory returned it would be back to the way it was, but he couldn’t help himself.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out.
Zoro: How’s Chopper?
Law: Well hello to you too Zoro. How’s your sexy husband?
Zoro: We’re fine everythings great. How’s Chopper?
Law chuckled and sat down behind the large, messy desk.
Law: Tired overworked lonely. Back to not eating
Zoro: Shit
Law: Maybe you two should go see him?
Zoro: No he hates it when we just drop by
Law: You could text him first, let him know you’re coming
There was nothing for a minute or two, so Law just sat, waiting. He propped his feet up on the desk drawer and leaned back in the chair. Finally, his phone buzzed again, and he swiped it open.
Zoro: Bring him to the BBQ on Friday
Law: He works
Zoro: Change his schedule. You’re the boss now right?
Law: Just until next week
Zoro: So change his schedule
Law: Will you blindfold me and lock me in a room with Sanji if I do?
Zoro: Sure he’d love that
Law: You’re trying to sound threatening but you have no idea how kinky I am
Zoro: Just bring him on Friday
Law: Fine
Law sat with his thumb hovering over the keys, wondering if this was the time to bring up a subject he’d been considering for a while. He wasn’t completely sure, and to tell the truth, he was just a little nervous, but nothing was ever going to happen if he didn’t say something.
Law: So speaking of Chopper I need to ask you guys something
Zoro: What
Law: Would you guys be mad if I sort of
Law: Made a move?
Law: With Chopper I mean
Law: He’s lonely and I’m available I don’t know
There was another long pause and Law started to worry it had been a mistake to say anything. What if they both were on their way here right now to kick his ass? He would let them, he knew he was kind of a dick for even thinking this way, but he saw how unhappy Chopper was every day. Couldn’t they be unhappy together?
His phone finally buzzed and he looked down. The message wasn’t from Zoro. It was Sanji.
Shit, he was going to die.
Sanji: I’m not saying I get to decide how you live your life, and I am in no way dictating how Chopper lives his, but I’m going to state the obvious here when I say that you are not over Kidd and it’s really fucking obvious so if you’re going to make a move on one of my best friends without the PUREST of fucking intentions I will beat the everloving piss out of you.
Sanji: I get it. He’s hurting and he’s sad and lonely and so are you and maybe getting together makes some fucked up sense in your head but what he needs right now is a good friend. And since he has decided that none of us are that anymore you fit that bill. He trusts you. So don’t fuck with that trust.
Sanji: I like you a lot man but I will kill you
Sanji: I fucking promise
Law: How the hell do you type so fast?
Sanji: DUDE
Law: Ok ok don’t worry. I swear if I do make a move it will be with grace and love and I’ll take care of him forever and ever
Sanji: You have my blessing then
Sanji: And Zoro’s but he won’t say it
Law: Can I still get blindfolded and locked in a room with you if I get him to the BBQ?
Law: I’ll bring a crop
Sanji: I’m blocking you
Law laughed and slipped his phone back in his pocket. Leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling and thought about maybe heading downtown that weekend and signing up for a fight. Maybe it would clear his head and put some things into perspective.
Without thinking too much about it, he pulled his phone back out.
Law: Hey, anyone interesting in town this weekend?
It took a few minutes, but the reply came.
Kidd: Vergo is here Saturday
Law: Hell yes, sign me up
* * *
Across town, a tall, fit man in his early forties named Gary Machart closed and locked the door to Whiteall and Loman Trust. He pocketed the keys and checked the time on his phone. He was looking forward to a drink at the bar and maybe some conversation with the bartender. She was a little older than he usually went for, but she had held together well and her tits were still nice.
He had left his car at home that day, taking the bus to avoid traffic. It was nice to be carried to work once in a while. He could catch up on a show or listen to talk radio during the ride and lower his stress level. The day was always brighter after listening to political discussion when not stuck behind a minivan.
The streets were clear, and the rain had let up, so the walk was pleasant. He passed a few hippie stores and a closed bakery that still smelled of cinnamon and wet flour. He texted as he walked, confirming appointments for tomorrow and rescheduling a meet with one of his clients. It was another six blocks to the bar when Gary realized he had to piss like a racehorse.
The shops nearby were closed, and that last six blocks suddenly felt like a hundred miles. There was an ally just ahead however, maybe he could just slip in and out real fast. No one would ever know. It would be gross but…
His bladder was insistent and quickly took over his decision-making capabilities. When he arrived at the ally, he turned the dark corner and spotted a dumpster he could stand behind.
He set his briefcase down and went for his belt.
Behind him, something moved, disturbing a few stacked boxes. He looked over his shoulder, sure he was going to see some homeless loser coming to ask him for money, or possibly offer him a blowjob. Wouldn’t that be an end to a day?
However, when Gary looked, there was no homeless man in the ally. Instead, it was a figure in a dark coat and a top hat. He was close, and still moving closer.
Gary was about to bark at the guy to get lost, but then there was a stinging sensation at the back of his neck. Things started to get hazy, and the figure in front of him began to shimmer and wave, like a cartoon.
Falling to the ground, Gary’s bladder let go, and warmth spread out across his crotch and down his leg. He rolled and looked up at the night sky, the tops of the buildings on either side of him. The figure in the coat and top hat leaned over him, and a wicked smile spread out across a featureless face.
Gary had just enough time to think Who wears a fucking top hat? before everything went black.
* * *
Chopper woke, bolted upright, gasping, clutching at his chest. His t-shirt was soaked, as were the sheets. There was pain in his hands and when he looked down to examine them, he found tiny crescents of blood across his palms.
He was shaking. His mouth and throat were completely dry.
“Holy shit…” he whispered, panting. “Holy shit, holy shit.”
The figure in his dream had been terrifying. It had been dressed in a dark coat and had held a hypodermic needle. It had stabbed Chopper in an ally.
Chopper wasn’t sure why this dream had terrified him so profoundly, he had been having a lot of nightmares lately, some of them much more gruesome than this one. Maybe it was the feeling of actually being there? Maybe it was because he had actually felt the sting of the needle at the back of his neck.
He lay back down, unmindful of the sweat on his sheets, and closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He needed rest if he was going to do his job.
He would forget all about dark figures with needles in the morning. After getting up and taking a hot shower, all memory of that top hat and that terrible smile would be gone.
Long gone.
TBC