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Summary:

Law’s mouth snaps shut. Opens. Closes again, and sets in a grim, determined line. He turns back to the building in front of them as a gaggle of teenagers bursts out of the door gesticulating wildly. The low thump of canned electronic music echoes from inside.

“So.” He sounds resigned. “Laser tag.”

The Heart Pirates have a work bonding experience. It goes about as well--and as calmly--as you might expect.

Notes:

Originally written for HeartBeats: A One Piece Heart Pirates Fanzine

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“So they picked laser tag this year?” Ikkaku muses. “I think I liked the go-carts from last year better.”

 

“I wanted to do axe throwing,” Hakugan mutters. “But the committee said they wouldn’t endorse any activity where you have to sign a waiver.”

 

“The way Ikkaku drives, we probably should have.” There’s the sound of feet skipping quickly out of the way of something. “Oh come on, it was a joke!” 

 

“Say that to my face once we’re armed, Penguin, and then we’ll see who’s joking.”

 

The laser tag arcade looks just like any other rundown place that promises the sort of entertainment you can only find in college-town strip malls: questionably clean and decked out in more neon than has ever been tasteful. The perfect place for a slightly tipsy post-exams celebration. 

 

Not the sort of place you’d expect to find a gaggle of medical practitioners under orders to have fun in the name of staff bonding.

 

“How’d your crotchety behind get convinced to show up for employer-mandated fun times, Cap?” Shachi jests, elbowing the ribs of the person in question. “I thought artfully dodging social engagements was your superpower.”

 

Law looks up from where he’s been furiously typing on his phone. Arguing with…someone, presumably. Could be anyone, really. It was Law. “The Employee Engagement Committee has gone mad with power,” he grumbles. “And–” He shoots a glare in Bepo’s direction. “Now they know where I live.” 

 

“Sorry,” Bepo says. He sounds distinctly not sorry. “But I thought you’d like this better than being stuck with the other residents for the evening.”

 

“Depends,” Law huffs, pocketing his phone. “What were they doing?”

 

“Bar trivia, I think,” Uni mutters. “I overheard Storrow bragging about how he was going to crush everyone. Somehow I doubt it. I don’t think Storrow knows how to do anything aside from waste people’s time.”

 

“Trivia?” Law turns accusingly to Bepo, who wilts a bit. “I could have been schooling the local idiots at trivia? ”  

 

“Sports trivia.”

 

Law’s mouth snaps shut. Opens. Closes again, and sets in a grim, determined line. He turns back to the building in front of them as a gaggle of teenagers bursts out of the door gesticulating wildly. The low thump of canned electronic music echoes from inside.

 

“So.” He sounds resigned. “ Laser tag.

 

The inside of the building is no less garish than the outside, summoning distant memories of ancient arcades for those of them old enough to remember.

 

Bepo goes up to the counter to check in while everyone else loiters awkwardly in the entranceway, trying to pretend they don’t feel out of place. Hakugan eyes a collection of crane games clustered against the wall.

 

“No,” Law says flatly.

 

“Come on, I know the trick of these things, it won’t take a second,” Hakugan protests, fingers twitching, but Bepo is already coming back to tell them they’re right on time, so they can go straight in.

 

If the dead-eyed young adult who leads them to one of the private event spaces is any indication, he’s just as excited to be here as some of them are, and the novelty of a group of medical professionals from the local hospital showing up to play laser tag is either not novel at all, or he’s seen enough weird shit in this place that they don’t bother commenting on. Either way, he opens the doors without a word and ushers them inside. 

 

The inside of the course they’ll be playing in this evening is painted all in black, with neon paint on all the sharp edges to presumably warn people away from injuring themselves. Judging by the scuff marks all over them, it doesn’t have the best success rate.

 

The room itself has been organized into a series of ramps and narrow hallways, with varied elevation to make the game more exciting. Clione mutters something about a perilous lack of railings over near six-foot drops, but no one pays him any mind.

 

“Take a harness off the wall,” the clerk says, pointing to a row of identical contraptions held together perilously by worn backpack strapping. “Your laser pistol is attached to the harness: don’t pull it off. You automatically lose if you pull it off.” The tone of his voice makes it very clear that many people have indeed pulled them off. “The number on the front is your number on the leaderboard.” He gestures aimlessly with one hand at an electronic scoreboard dominating the wall near the entrance. “Get hit, lose a point. Hit someone else, their number loses a point. Once you’re hit, there’s a five second cooldown before you can be hit again. Simple. Any questions?”

 

“Do we get a prize if we win?” Shachi says cheekily, harness already strapped in and pistol held in ready mode.

 

“The satisfaction of beating everyone else,” the clerk says without missing a beat. “Ground rules: don’t climb the structures except by the built-in ramps. Don’t hit anything with the guns. Don’t hit each other. This is not a contact sport.”

 

“You say that, but I’m pretty sure the emergency room has seen at least one patient come in from this place in the last couple of months,” Uni mutters into his turtleneck. The clerk, probably for the best, doesn’t seem to hear him. Or if he does, he doesn’t care.

 

“I will start the timer for your encounter when I leave the room. You’ll hear an air horn sound, which is when your pistols and harnesses will become active. When the air horn sounds again in fifteen minutes, they will deactivate, and your final scores will be tallied on the board. Good luck and have fun.”

 

The clerk isn’t even all the way out of the door before Hakugan is sprinting down into the course, and his action spurs the rest of them to realize that standing around next to each other was how one became a sitting duck once the guns went live. The rest of the group is quick to scatter. 

 

Well, most of them.

 

“Cowards!” Ikkaku spits from behind a corner not a minute into the match. “Fight one on one like you’re supposed to!”  

 

“Now, just because you don’t have a teammate, don’t come crying to us,” Penguin cheers airily, back to back with Shachi. “You thought we’d split up the dynamic duo? Please.”

 

“I’m going to get you alone and then light you up like a disco ball, you dweeb.” 

 

“...This is still about the driving comment from earlier, isn’t it?”

 

A pair of electric sounding shots from off to the side land one after the other, and Penguin and Shachi stagger out of formation in surprise at their assailant.

 

“Thanks, Ikkaku,” Law drawls, from his perch on a nearby low ledge, though his apparent thanks do not extend to amnesty for the woman in question, because she catches a shot of her own in her hesitation and elects to retreat. “Did you two honestly think this ridiculous tactic would actually work?”

 

“You didn’t want to even be here, why are you so good at this?” Penguin shouts from behind the cover he and Shachi have ducked behind, both harnesses flashing with the concentric rings of lights indicating they’d been hit and were on a few-second time out.

 

Law shrugs, and levels his laser pistol at a nearby corner, lighting up Clione’s harness with another shot as he unwittingly comes barreling into the line of fire. “I learned at summer camp.”

 

“Oh, bullshit , like you ever spent your childhood outside!” 

 

“Or maybe you’re just bad,” Law drawls, but his amusement is cut short when his own harness lights up in a cascade of color.

 

“Sorry!” Bepo calls from up above. “It’s just–you were standing there, and you didn’t notice, and–”

 

“Don’t apologize, you big doofus, hit him again! ” Shachi shouts, but Law has ducked back into the shadows, and Shachi and Penguin take the opportunity to get back in the game.

 

Elsewhere, Jean Bart is finding that he doesn’t particularly care for laser tag. The harness is too small to fit comfortably on his massive shoulders, and he’s too tall to hide behind most of the available cover. He’s debating just cutting his losses and going to wait near the door, when Hakugan drops down from up above him and Jean Bart sees his eyes light up in anticipation.

 

“Well, go ahead, shoot me,” he hisses from where he’s crouched as low as he can manage. HIs head still peeks out a bit from above the wall. “I know I’m an easy target.”

 

“No no no,” Hakugan is quick to reassure. “I have an idea. Tell me, Jean Bart, do you want to have the best story to tell the other emergency room attendants tomorrow?”

 

Even in the low lighting, Jean Bart can see the mischief twinkling in his coworker’s eyes. It promises all sorts of shenanigans. And Jean Bart? Well, he’s not immune to a good time.

 

“What did you have in mind?” he replies, and the grin that splits Hakugan’s face is visible even behind his mask.

 

On the other side of the course, Ikkaku had managed to turn the tables on Penguin and Shachi, bottling them up in a corner so that only one of them could shoot out at a time.

 

“This is unfair and you know it!”

 

“Aw, did the big bad boys team up not work out the way they thought?” Ikakku purrs, twirling her pistol tauntingly. “I know you two share a brain cell, but I was sure you’d know better than to let yourself get pinned like this.”

 

“You’re not going to win just taking potshots at us, you know,” Penguin points out from his position crushed into the corner. 

 

“Oh, I don’t need to win, ” Ikkaku laughs, taking another shot at Shachi, who barely manages to get his harness out of the line of fire. “I’m just here to have fun.

 

“This is why everyone thinks lab techs are crazy, I hope you know.”

 

They’re interrupted as Uni comes sprinting around the corner, harness flashing and all attempts to be stealthy and strategic thrown out the window.

 

“Uh…” Shachi starts, and then Ikkaku curses from the other side of the divider.

 

“Oh, hell no. Not dealing with that.”

 

Jean Bart had always cut a naturally intimidating figure, heavily muscled and towering head and shoulders over everyone else as he did. But that had always been somewhat offset by how quiet and careful he was as a person, and by this point in their working relationship most of his coworkers didn’t think of him as a particularly imposing force.

 

Here and now, with Hakugan perched on his shoulders cackling like a maniac and dual-wielding both his own pistol and Jean Bart’s, Uni’s reaction seemed, if anything, understated.

 

“Oh, you absolute madmen,” Penguin whispers reverently as Shachi bursts into hysterical laughter. “You brilliant, crazy assholes.”

 

The crackling noise of an ancient intercom wheezing to life briefly mutes the generic thumping bass line that’s been playing in the background this entire encounter.

 

“Please remember that this is not a contact sport,” the clerk’s voice echoes through the room. They sound moderately less sure of themselves than they had a few minutes before. “If you continue to— oh god .” 

 

Jean Bart, clearly caught up in his role as Hakugan’s mobile attack turret, had taken a flying leap to one of the raised platforms, where Bepo and Clione had taken cover.

 

“Shit!” Clione curses in surprise before rolling backwards off the platform with a thump that’s audible even in the loud space.

 

“You good?” Law calls from somewhere out on the course. Hiding, probably. Like a smart person. Clione’s answering groan seems to satisfy Hakugan, because he wastes no time in pointing his pistol down where the man had fallen and firing off a shot. 

 

“We’re going to get kicked out,” Bepo says morosely from his position a few feet away. He doesn’t even bother moving, and Hakugan neatly sends a shot his way, this time with Jean Bart’s pistol. It was only fair, after all.  

 

“Maybe,” Hakugan replies with a shrug, as Bepo’s harness lights up in an array of colors. “But it’s not like we were planning on coming back, right?”

 

“Not the point,” Bepo mutters, and Hakugan just shrugs, tapping Jean Bart on the arm. “Let’s see if we can find Law. Sneaky-ass surgeon has to be around here somewhere.”

 

Jean Bart lands back on the ground with a shuddering thump and pivots to use his superior height to search out the man in question.

 

All at once, the door slams open and the lights come up, and everyone stops, blinking owlishly at the sudden brightness.

 

“What. The hell? ” The clerk, far from the apathetic worker drone he’d been before, is standing in the entranceway, looking torn between awe and the effects of a serious migraine. “What part of the rules was unclear, exactly? I thought you all were supposed to be doctors, not…” He trails off, seemingly incapable of coming up with an acceptable example for their behavior.

 

“Well,” Law says, stepping out of a particularly shadowed corner. “ Technically , none of what they did was against your rules. No one hit anyone else physically, with or without the guns, after all. And Jean Bart didn’t really climb that structure. He just sort of hung off it for a minute or so.” 

 

And then, because this was Law, and Law was at his core a little shit with issues with authority, he gives the clerk his best condescending grin. “So as you can see, we’ve been a perfectly well-behaved group. I’m not sure what the concern is.”

 

Out.

 

None of them—except for Bepo, who is apologizing up a storm—are particularly contrite as they file out of the room, tossing their harnesses back in the entryway for the next group to use.

 

“Hah,” Hakugan smirks as they pass the scoreboard, his number sitting pretty at the very top. “I win.”

 

“Doesn’t count,” Shachi protests. “You had help. You had an entire extra person.”

 

“And you didn’t?” Hakugan sasses back, pointing at Penguin, who at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Don’t blame me for playing smarter.” He turns and lightly punches Jean Bart on the arm. “That was brilliant, by the way.” 

 

“It was more fun than I expected,” Jean Bart acknowledges. “Certainly more effective than what I was doing before.”

 

“Yeah,” Clione deadpans, massaging his arm where he’d hit the floor. “Effective.”

 

“You’re fine, stop complaining.”

 

They spill back out into the parking lot, leaving the bright lights and music of the laser tag parlor behind them, the clerk who had escorted them out slamming the door furiously as the last of them exits the building. The streetlights are beginning to turn on as night approaches, lighting the outside world in something a lot gentler than the overstimulating place they’d just been. 

 

“Well,” Law says, stretching his arms above his head. “That was exciting. And unexpectedly hilarious.” 

 

“We’re going to be in so much trouble,” Bepo moans.

 

“Only if someone calls the hospital to complain,” Law replies, completely unphased by the possibility. “And I wish them luck getting anywhere on the phone tree looking for a person who might care.” He shrugs. “No, we did what we were supposed to. I don’t know what you call laser tag piggyback rides, but it definitely involves ‘cooperation’ and ‘teamwork’ and all those other things we were supposed to be learning as part of this experience.” He slaps his hands together in a mockery of someone leading a department meeting. “So, everyone, what did we learn?”

 

“I learned Penguin and Shachi are just as easy to confuse together as they are apart,” Ikkaku shouts from the back of the group.

 

“Excellent. Penguin?”

 

“I learned not to provoke Ikkaku,” Penguin says flatly. 

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“An important lesson,” Law agrees. “Shachi?”

 

“I learned you’re a sneaky asshole who won’t admit to having had fun in there,” Shachi snarks. “And I bet you’re mad you didn’t win.”

 

“Blasphemy,” Law deadpans, and then, because he clearly couldn’t help himself: “But to be clear, if Hakugan and Jean Bart hadn’t teamed up, I think it was clear that I had the game in the bag.”

 

“I tell you what I learned,” Uni whispers to Clione as the rest of the group dissolves into good-natured bickering. “I learned that if we ever do end up doing axe throwing like Hakugan initially wanted, I am calling in sick.

Notes:

As always, shout out to the lovely people on the One Piece Writing and Worldbuilding Discord Server. Having such a nice community of people to bounce ideas off of makes my day, especially for the fun worldbuilding stuff like this, and you're welcome to join us if it strikes your fancy.

I have a tumblr here: hyperbolicreverie. Feel free to come yell at me, ask questions about what I'm writing--or anything else, and generally watch me try and remember how social media works.

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