CHAPTER SIXTY SIX: Fat Chance
"You're really beefing up, little miss!"
If I had been wearing pearls, they would have been clutched like hell when I turned to Debbon, brow scrunching.
"I know you didn't just call me fat, my dude." My voice was filled with warning as I set down the sack of Yagara feed I had been carrying.
"No, not like that!" The Stable Master raised his hands defensively, kind of laughing off my misinterpretation. "I mean, you've put on some muscle since you started working here! Lifting all those heavy bags and wrestling the cheeky bulls has bulked you up."
Not exactly something you should say to a lady...not that I act like one...
It had been how long? Five months, give or take, since I had started working for Debbon at the Yagara Bull Yard. Paulie had been adamant that I had to get a job and learn some responsibility since running a curbside child gambling ring apparently wasn't 'sustainable' or 'legal'.
The work was pretty tough, at times, but the pay was decent, and the hours weren't strict. Debbon knew how I was, so as long as I put in a conscious effort, he didn't care when I showed up or how short or long I'd stay. More often than not, I'd stay from mid-morning to sundown four days a week, if not five or six. It was something to keep me from the boredom, and spending time with Titus and the other bulls was a plus.
"Okay, well, this beefcake is calling it a day. The boys should be finishing up soon, and I'd rather not smell like shat out seafood for dinner time." I instinctively held my hand out, and my boss slapped an envelope with my days pay right into it like clockwork.
"Be warned, that weedy little Marine is loitering out there again." Debbon motioned towards the street with his chin, and I groaned, flopping against his little desk dramatically.
"Are you kidding me?! Can't he take a hint?! I swear, there's only so many ways to say no before murder becomes the only possible solution!"
Timbley had been...persistent. Horrendously so. At first, it had been somewhat entertaining, having him timidly approach and try to speak with me, but now he was the bane of my very existence. Flowers, cards, chocolates, he'd even attempted to gift me some fancy looking necklace at one point. The moment he found out where I was working, he'd linger, waiting to follow me home like a lost little puppy dog.
Debbon gave me an amused salute as I bit the bullet, stalking out onto the sidewalk and right past Timbley, who scurried to catch up with me.
"E..Evening, (Y/N)! How was work today?!" He asked, voice tight with nerves despite trying to sound peppy.
"Same as the last dozen times, man..."
Take a fucking hint!
Everything about him made me agitated, from the way his shadow overlapped mine to the way his footsteps were out of time with my own. If I didn't know any better I would have thought he was doing it on purpose.
"Uh, how's your bro-"
"Again, same as last time, he's good." I cut him off, unprepared to humour him like the first few times.
"Cool, cool! What abou-"
"Iceberg is good too. So is Titus. So is Debbon. So is that lady with the glass eye that lives in the green house over there. So is my fiance." I spat back at him through clenched teeth, stuffing my envelope into my bra so I had both hands at the ready if I so desired to use them. It was incredibly tempting. "You ask the same questions every damn day, my guy, and the answers are never different."
I can't believe I once felt sorry for knocking you out. Should've finished the job.
His steps faltered a little, and for a moment my shadow was free of his, but it didn't last long. He was quickly jogging to catch up.
"Sorry! Look, how about we go get some di-"
"Fucking christ!" I spun around on my heel, nearly colliding with the naval cadet's chest when he tripped to a halt at the motion of my hand. "Timbley, I've tried being patient, but I'm about ready to kick your teeth in right now! We are not friends, we are not engaged, we are not anything! I don't care what our parents say, we're nothing!"
Did I feel just the teensiest bit bad when Timbley flinched back from my outburst? Not at all. He'd been given chance after chance to back off, but he hadn't listened.
"Wh..What's so wrong with me, huh?" Now that took me off guard. "Am I not worth just a bit of your time? To get to know me?"
Is this kid for real? Did I give him brain damage when I whacked him in the head or something?
Scoffing, I made sure he saw my disgust as I looked him up and down before turning to continue on my way.
"Nope. I'm perfectly content with my fiance, and my friends. I don't need any more. You can run along home now, Timbley. Find someone else to court, or whatever it is you're failing at doing." If it had been under any other circumstances, I would have picked a physical fight, but I had to keep my head down if we wanted to stay here. Paulie had hammered that into my head repeatedly.
"You mean Massacre Soldier Killer, right?"
My whole body jerked to a stop when he spoke that name, and slowly, the bones in my neck rusted hinges, I turned around.
"What was that..?" I had heard him loud and clear, but I wanted confirmation. Of course, it wasn't too far fetched that someone would be able to recognise Killer. His hair and uniquely marred arm were pretty telling features, but I hadn't thought the greenhorned Marine was that observant, or smart.
"That's who Kipper really is, right? Massacre Soldier Killer, of the Kid Pirates?" Timbley stood firm, fists clenched by his sides as he spoke. There was a waver to his voice, strikingly similar to that of a child moments before they threw a major tantrum. "It would be a shame if that information reached my superiors."
A threat? Can I not catch a damn break?
It was concerning, hell, it actually more than just freaked me out, but I maintained my composure, settling a hand on my hip.
"Wow. Blackmail. So attractive." I deadpanned, clicking my tongue against my teeth. "Listen, buddy, I cut ties with those bastards months ago. Rugged and blond is just my type, I guess, so sue me. I'm going home, and you should do the same. Don't want to miss curfew, little boy."
Waving over my shoulder, I made sure my walk was no faster than it had been beforehand, and I was relieved to not hear him jogging to catch up again. This was a major problem, and I knew that it wasn't going to be the last time Timbley tried to use that to get his way, or rather our parents' way.
I couldn't understand why it was so important to them that I got with that stupid little prick anyway, though I did know they wouldn't hesitate to use that information to cause chaos. Trying to file that concern away for another day, I speed walked the rest of the way home. We had rented a quaint little villa not far from the merchant district, not wanting to take advantage of Iceberg's bottomless pit of kindness any longer.
Once inside, I stripped off and took a long, hot shower, scrubbing off the grit and grime as well as my frustrations before ambling out into the living area in nothing but a towel, still dripping. There was a chance Paulie stop over with Killer, but that was fine. It would be another flawless way to make him have a full blown patented Paulie freakout.
"Putta putta putta! Putta putta putta!"
For the second time today my heart jumped up into my throat. Killer's transponder snail was ringing, and there was only one person it could be. Well, it could have possibly been Heat or Wire, but really, it was likely Kid. They spoke every few days, keeping tabs on each other, or just chatting. No matter how upset they had been with each other, they were still partners. An inseparable duo, no matter the distance.
I, myself, had not spoken to Kid since we had left for Water 7, but the sight of the small, shouting snail made my hand tingle and twitch. It would have been so easy to let it ring out and tell Killer he had missed a call once he got home, but something inside me just wouldn't let me do that. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I snatched up the receiver and waited.
"You need to tell Pomp some of your recipes, cuz he fuckin' sucks." Nothing had changed. His voice still hit me like a metric tonne of bricks, and I stared at the snail, which now vaguely resembled the pirate's features.
"Surly he can't be that bad." I was amazed that I had been able to speak so smoothly, and I waited for whatever Kid's reaction might be.
There was a long silence before I heard him clear his throat.
"S..Speaking of shit that sucks, your stupid blob thing keeps sneaking into my damn room." Sure, he was bitching, but there was not a hint of true aggression or annoyance behind it. He seemed almost reserved. I could relate.
"He's not a stupid blob thing. He's my son, and the heart of our damn crew."
Our crew...
It had come out of my mouth so naturally, and my chest squeezed tight. I hadn't made a decision yet, as to whether I would eventually return to the Kid Pirates. It was a tough choice to make. On one hand, I loved it there, on the Victoria Punk, with the people I cared about, but at the same time, I wasn't sure whether I'd ever be able to face Kid again. Not in person. I was having enough trouble with just his voice.
"So...heard you've been doin' good. Working with those fish ponies or whatever they are..?" Was he hesitating? It sure seemed like it, but I couldn't fault him for that. This was awkward as hell.
"Yagaras. Yeah...Keeps me busy..." I wanted to ask him how he was, and how he was healing up, but I decided that would be insensitive. "Your bounty went up a little. That's pretty cool." I brought my feet up onto the couch, resting my chin on my knees.
"Yep..."
This is almost physically painful...
"Killer still at the ship yard?"
"Uh-huh. Should be home soon."
"He's taking that alias crap pretty seriously, huh? What was that dumb name again? Kicker?"
"Kipper. Like the herring."
"Right. Kipper. Fuckin' dumb."
"Better than Kicker."
"I guess."
"It is."
Could it be any more tense? Whilst nothing had explicitly been stated, it was pretty obvious Kid knew something was up between me and Killer. If he had any problem with it he hadn't said as much, which was both relieving and kind of painful.
"How's your brother and all that? Still assholes?"
"Paulie's great. He moved in with his girlfriend last week. My parents, on the other hand..." I grit my teeth, thinking back to my dealing with Timbley on my way home. "...The usual. Trying to marry me off to that scabby little marineling, who's decided to start getting all blackmaily and crap. Nothing that can't be handled."
Why am I even telling him this? I shouldn't have even picked up the snail...
The scraping of metal could be heard on Kid's end, meaning he was likely down in his workshop, tinkering away. It was good, hearing him back at his hobby.
"He's threatening you? How? What's he saying?" There was a jump to Kid's voice that made my throat tighten. It was protective, like he used to be. Why did he care now?
"It's nothing. He just thinks he knows who Killer is, but he doesn't have any proof, and he's all bark, no bite. Like I said, I can handle it." I was pretty confident I could, at least, especially if I let Killer know, along with Paulie and Iceberg. More clanging of metal, then a creaking sound that reminded me of rusted steel joints.
"That ain't nothing. You two should come back. Besides, it's been the better part of a year. We have shit to do." I pressed my teeth down over my tongue, biting back a few choice words that wouldn't do either of us any good. I still cared for him. Hell, I still loved him, no matter how hard I tried to forget, but that didn't mean he didn't piss me off.
"I'll let Killer know so he can head back if he wants to." I replied as firmly as I could, which wasn't very firm at all. I didn't want Killer to leave me, but I knew he belonged alongside Kid. As to whether I did or not, I still had to think long and hard.
"But...what about y-"
"IS THAT (Y/N)?!"
"OI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THREE-"
"HI (Y/N)!"
"WHAT'S UP?!"
"Sorry, Captain, it's our turn."
I couldn't help but chuckle, hearing Kid curse in defeat as Heat, Haikei and Wire liberated the transponder snail, obviously juggling it between themselves. I missed them all so much.
"Hey, guys! Miss me?" I glanced up as the door opened, and I watched Killer walk in as the transponder snail tried to keep up with the trio of voices, jumping over one another.
"DUH!"
"Say hello, Missy! It's Mommy!"
"Can you not put that thing near my face? Ever?"
Setting down his bag, Killer moved to sit beside me, lifting his arm so I could nestle against his side. I didn't care if he smelled of sweat and wood shavings, even if I'd only just showered. He gave me a look, as though questioning my decision to answer the call, and I simply shrugged. I had nothing. No real reason. He just smiled in response, pressing a kiss atop my hair as we listened to the absolute chaos.
"Seriously, it's oozing something! Get it away, Heat!"
"Don't be rude! He's just excited to talk to his mama!"
"Quit hogging the snail!"
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WORKSHOP, YOU FUCKIN' STOOGES!"
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***I rise from my grave to give you this crap.
Next Time: Make Good***
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