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Slamming the massive gourd on the table, a hand wiped the remaining saké running down the sides of his mouth. Grunting in annoyance, he looked up; honey-brown eyes scanning the mostly empty bar until they found the barmaid. She visibly flinched as he glared.
“Another,” he ordered and she nodded anxiously before scampering away. He didn’t let it bother him—agitated enough already. Some woman he didn’t know being afraid of him wasn’t worth getting worked up about or bother trying to get her more comfortable around him.
Edward Newgate could. Although large and imposing, he’d had plenty of years of practice at getting wimpy barmaids to at least smile at him. They brought the booze much faster if they were less jumpy.
It didn’t matter, and Whitebeard scowled at his thoughts. A few sons were scattered nearby but none dared to speak. They all knew the source of his foul mood. It aggravated him, that they would know, that they would so clearly give him space. Grinding his teeth, when the barmaid finally returned, he simply grabbed the gourd from her hands instead of letting her place it on the table.
That damn woman, he thought irritably as he quickly popped the cork off and chugged. Ruining my saké with her pettiness. That wasn’t quite true but even that small omission made the saké taste sour. Normally the crystal-clear liquid would slide down his throat as easily as water. The flavor crisp with a subtle sweetness. Something water could never hope to achieve.
Not today. Today not even the high-class stuff that normally he’d revel in could ease the sting. It tasted as cheap as if it was the bottom of the barrel rot.
When had he sunk so low that one woman’s bad mood could affect his so badly? Edward wondered with a frown.
It was still a new thing between them, Bee and him. She was amazing, he could admit that even as irritated as he was with her. Whitebeard already had everything he could have ever wanted, a loving family, and a large enough fleet to protect them with. The power to protect others—his home island and any like it—with his name alone.
Yet here she came, waltzing into his life with barely a second glance at him.
But did he have a second look at her.
The memory was a fond one and he wasn’t interested in dwelling on it in his current state. Didn’t want to sully the memory.
Today the problem had started with the nurses. Always the damn nurses. If Edward didn’t need them, he might have been tempted to transfer them out to his fleet so he wouldn’t have to hear the constant bitching.
Whitebeard could feel Bee’s eyes as she watched the nurses get all his equipment set up after he had settled in his chair. It might have been nice if he felt it was out of jealousy. If he could flirt just a little and have those eyes narrow just a tad. Get her just a little possessive. It wasn’t a thing he’d ever thought he’d want to experience—a woman’s jealousy. But if being with her had taught him anything, it was that apparently, he wanted for things he’d never have considered before.
Unfortunately, he knew that wasn’t the reason why her eyes trailed over the nurses and the knowledge grated on his nerves. Once they stepped aside, he took a drink of his mug, waiting to see if she’d mention it or not. He hoped not.
Reaching out a hand he laid it on her head dragging a few fingers through her black hair. Those dark brown eyes rose to meet his, a challenge sparking within them and he bit back a sigh.
“Do we have to do this?”
“I just don’t understand why they have to wear a uniform.”
They spoke practically at the same time.
A tingle of annoyance made him clutch at the handle of his mug harder and only an answering squeal from the wood made him release it before he could spill booze everywhere, including over Bee who was seated in his lap. That most certainly wouldn’t be worth the fight.
“Their nurses,” he explained slowly. “It’s a nurse uniform.”
“It’s a man’s fantasy idea of a nurse uniform,” Bee informed him, crossing her arms. He chuckled as he bounced his leg and watched as she struggled to stay upright on her perch on his thigh.
“Jealous? You know I only have eyes for you,” Edward teased, trying to distract her. When her expression didn’t change, he tried something else. “We can get your own uniform if you’d like? Since you’re always taking such good care of me.” He grinned at her, hoping the compliment would smooth her ruffled feathers.
“I’m not a trained nurse. And you’re not getting me in that uniform, even if you paid me,” she shot back, snootily. No such luck then. Whitebeard rolled his eyes.
“Let’s talk about something else, eh?” Whitebeard asked, in an attempt to be civil. Plenty of his sons were out and about on deck, he knew how much she hated having these little displays in front of his crew. “What did you want to do on the island?”
Bee opened her mouth but before she could answer, one of his sons called out, “Could get lunch out Pops!”
He laughed loudly. “Lunch? For what—I can just get my darling Bee to make me a sandwich.” The answering laughter from more than one son made him smile before he took a deep swallow of his drink.
Feeling Bee slide out of his lap, he finished his cup and held it aside as a nurse took it before looking down at her.
She stood in front of his chair, feet braced apart, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Bee’s angry glare startled him before he ran back through the conversation and cursed under his breath.
“Are you serious?!”
Edward groaned. “It was just a joke—”
“A joke?? I’m not your servant Newgate!” The use of his last name made him grimace, the rage in her voice apparent.
“I know that dear let’s just talk about it—”
“No! Fuck that, I’m fucking leaving. You just—UGH!” Bee turned on her heel and stormed away, shoulders up to her ears.
Whitebeard rubbed at his temple. A nurse held his refilled mug out awkwardly. “Did you still want this Captain or did you want to go after her?”
He grunted before grabbing it. “No, let her cool off.” And took a large chug.
It had been a mistake. The ship pulled into port and Bee vanished the moment it did. She could be slippery when she wanted and it would take them ages to find her. Thus, why he had been waiting for hours at a bar, hoping to hear word that someone had spotted her.
Edward could go find her. Bee never said anything one way or the other, but he knew it made her happy. That he searched for her, that he found her. No matter how upset she was, he could always sense a sort of relief that he had bothered to look, that he hadn’t chosen to leave her behind.
The thought of who or what inspired that belief boiled his blood every time he thought about it.
Still, today he felt it best if he left the searching to his sons. He was too irritated, to rubbed raw by the exchange himself to risk pissing himself off further by going around looking like a wandering child searching for its mother.
He was old. Set in his ways. Edward rapped the top of the table with a finger. Why couldn’t she just accept that? Why make him feel guilty for things that he largely didn’t care about?
The thought of changing for a woman made him bristle. Why should he? For what? She should have known who he was and what he was when they first got started. A distant nagging reminded him that she did, she does, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll leave you because of it had him scowling harder as he rushed to finish off his drink.
“Pops! We found her!” One of his sons yelled out as several of them spilled into the bar's entrance.
Immediately he stood. “Pay the tab, won’t you?” Edward asked the room at large and a chorus of agreement made his heart swell. They were good boys, all of them. “Where at?”
It didn’t take long to find. ‘Ground Zero’ was a thumping multi-level club. Eyeing the brightly colored exterior he grunted. Bee must have been expecting him to look for her himself. It was a place he wouldn’t have tried for several more hours, knowing how much she disliked crowded and loud clubs such as this. Clever. Thankfully his sons were more thorough and not as aware of her usual preferences as he was.
Making his way inside, people frequently ran into his legs as he moved through the crowd. Several of them turned to protest before seeing who it was and paling quickly. Edward didn’t slow, there wasn’t a point in wasting time with these nobodies.
Coming up to the open roof deck on top, his eyes scanned the crowd. He spotted Namur seated at the bar; the fish man raised a glass to him in greeting before gesturing to the dance floor. Edward nodded his understanding.
As he got closer, finally he found her small frame.
She was getting spun out by some brat, and his hackles raised before he forcibly calmed himself. The crowd easily broke around him as he made his way through and tapped the man on the shoulder.
He turned quickly; his mouth opened in what was likely a complaint but once he spotted Whitebeard the words died in his throat. Staring, his eyes widened with fear as he literally shook in his boots. Whitebeard snorted—how pathetic.
“Eddie!!” An excited voice screamed, loud enough to be heard over the music. Bee threw herself at him, clutching at his coat and tugging at it, her signal that she wanted him to lean down for her.
Drunk then. A lot, if it had been enough to completely switch her mood around.
“Scram,” he growled at her prior dance partner and the boy didn’t need any more encouragement as he beat a hasty retreat. Bee was still tugging on him.
“Eddieeeee, Eddie! Uppy!” One hand was still firmly gripping his coat, as the other raised above her head reaching out for his face.
The edge of his irritation crumbled away just a little with the force of her smile. Easily he scooped her up with one hand and held her against one shoulder. Her pleased giggle was echoed in his ear as he left, giving one last nod of appreciation to Namur who smiled back, his shark teeth sharp and shiny in the strobing lights.
“Eddie,” Bee slurred into his ear. “Eddieeee, kisses!” Whitebeard couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“Let’s get you sobered up a bit first hm?”
“Noooo.” She pinched cheeked and pulled, pouting. “Kisses.”
“You’re being childish,” he grumbled. A gasp of outrage made him chuckle just a little before he turned his face to the side and pressed a quick kiss against her face.
“More!” Bee demanded immediately, hardly ever satisfied once she got what she wanted.
“Just wait, let’s get somewhere private.”
“Sexy times?”
The hopeful lilt of her voice made him tighten the grip he had over her. He’d learned the hard way if he tried to prop her up atop his shoulder, she’d fall over the moment he took a step. Keeping her balance while drunk was not one of Bee’s strong suits.
Pushing that aside, Edward kept his eye out for a hotel. “No. We’re going to get you sobered up then we’re going to have a talk.” Finding one, he made his way across the street.
He ignored the whined out ‘noooo’ and walked inside to get a room. The Moby was too far away plus with how much she’d been drinking it would be better to have her rest in a hotel room, rather than deal with her hungover grumpiness surrounded by his more perky sons tomorrow morning.
The world spun and Bee closed her eyes to enjoy the ride. Everything felt pleasantly fuzzy, unreal, and soft. It was nice. Her cheeks tingled as did the ends of her fingers. A hand held her aloft and she settled deeper into the warm embrace.
All too soon, however, the ride ended and gravity suddenly took her. Bee barely managed a screech before a bed caught her and she bounced. Groaning she curled on one side. What had been a pleasant spinning was now a vortex and her stomach swirled.
“Drink this,” a gruff voice commanded and she kicked out towards the voice.
“Fuck off.” Words were hard, her tongue felt heavy. She wanted another drink, something to bring back her good mood. Why did he have to throw her like that?
“Now don’t be like that,” Edward chided as she felt him easily push her up towards the headboard and she moaned. When his hand released her, Bee managed to crawl the few inches to collapse onto a pillow.
“Why did you drop me?” she managed to ask, past the haze of alcohol as she tried to focus on him. “S’not nice.” Slowly her vision sharpened enough to be able to just make out the edges of his frame, blocking out the light above her.
Petulantly she reached out, wanting to grab at him but of course he was too far out of reach. She whined waving her arms. A deep chuckle that never failed to send a shiver down her spine filled the room.
“We’re supposed to be talking dear,” Eddie reminded and she shrugged before she felt the bed start to shift.
“Too drunk. Kiss me instead.”
Was she getting out all of the words? They felt tangled, slipping, and sliding as they dribbled their way out of her mouth. Still, Edward settled next to her, the bed groaning with the weight and she smiled. Scooching in close, she raised her face up expectantly.
One hand came to rest against her side, the palm radiating heat, and Bee hummed. “Just kissing little one. I want you to drink some water soon as well.”
“Fineeee,” she drawled. After making impatient noises, Edward finally dragged her close and she smiled wide. “Kissessss.”
Lips descended on her face and she sighed with pleasure. Quick little kisses, only the barest brush of lips before they moved onto the next spot to repeat the process. They covered her face; his mustache made her laugh as it tickled her skin. When the onslaught stopped, she kissed across the seam of his lips, small soft pecks.
His mouth opened and the smell of saké wafted over her. Gagging, she sat up, stomach rolling. “Your breath stinks.”
Edward sighed. “Always so damn fussy.”
“S’not f-fussy! You smell like alcohol!”
“If I smell like alcohol, you’re basically a brewery.”
Bee narrowed her eyes. Edward hadn’t moved, still laying on his side, looking calmly up at her. One arm curled under the largest pillow, supporting his head.
“You’re the alcoholic here,” she reminded primly, sticking up her nose.
“At least I can handle my booze.”
“Mm.” Bee didn't have a comeback for that but trying to sit criss-cross made her realize she still had shoes on. Reaching down she struggled with the laces. There was another loud sigh behind her before the bedsprings squealed. “I can do it!!”
A large face appeared over her shoulder as he easily reached beside her to tug off her shoes. “It’s fine,” he said gently before pressing a soft kiss on her shoulder, making her shudder.
Edward grabbed her and tugged her back and she allowed her body to go limp. He rearranged them back on their sides—facing each other—the same position before she moved. He quirked an eyebrow.
“Done with your bitching?”
“Maybe if you didn’t drink so mu—” The words were lost as he leaned forward to shut her up. Her eyes fluttered closed as she wrapped a hand around his neck.
When his tongue licked along her lips Bee eagerly opened her mouth. Lips slid together, and she moaned into the space between them, desperate. Still, when his tongue entered her small mouth, it was unexpected enough that she gagged.
Tearing herself away she clamped a hand over her mouth as she rolled off the bed. Stumbling into the bathroom, Bee was barely able to lift up the lid of the toilet before her stomach rolled and she vomited into the bowl.
After her muscles relaxed, she flushed and rose on shaky legs. Rinsing her mouth out with water, she heard Edward call out from the other room, as she hadn’t managed to close the door—
“Toothbrush and paste are on the counter.”
As she brushed, Bee blinked sleepily at her reflection in the mirror. Her black hair was a little mused—likely from the bed and Edward’s fingers—it fell in frizzy loose waves to her mid-back. Paler than normal skin made her look slightly sickly under the yellow light of the bathroom and she spat into the sink with annoyance.
Wiping her mouth, she exited the bathroom.
And tripped over her own feet and ran into the wall.
“Gwahaha!” Edward’s loud laughter shook the room as she pouted.
“Eddie!” she whined. “Don’t laugh!”
Still laughing, one hand thumped on the mattress in invitation. She sat on the edge, about to cross her arms and ignore him when a large hand gripped her waist and tugged her in close.
“Hey!” she exclaimed.
“Don’t pout. It was funny, you know it was.”
Bee grumbled under her breath but as he started kissing across the back of her shoulders she hummed and leaned forward trying to give him more space. Edward chuckled at her easy acquittance.
One of his hands rested over her stomach she wiggled with excitement, expecting the familiar feeling of his fingers working their way up and under her shirt. When nothing happened, she made a noise of confusion and Eddie let out a short laugh.
“We’re trying to sober you up dear. Not distract me with other things.”
Wiggling again, Bee tried to be enticing. However, she was so short that by holding her close to his face, she was nowhere near his pants and thus her wiggling wasn’t going to do anything.
“Nice try,” Eddie said and she easily heard the grin in his voice. She hmphed. Rolling over, Bee pouted at Whitebeard.
“So mean to me,” she slurred. His grin softened to something else, his light brown eyes shining at her.
“I am. Hopefully, you’ll forgive me, eh?” Edward didn’t wait for her response, just pulled her closer before diving in once more for a kiss.
They repeated the process, trading kisses before Bee would roll away and fumble her way into the bathroom.
After the second time, Edward managed to get her to begrudgingly drink some water and each subsequent return from the bathroom included him urging her to drink more.
Slowly Bee could feel the world lose its fuzziness, becoming sharper and sharper. She sighed deeply on the latest return and finished off the water bottle.
“Let’s talk then,” she said at last and Whitebeard grinned before he slowly sat up.
“What’s with all the attitude then?” Edward asked immediately, not one to beat around the bush.
Bee wasn’t either. “I just couldn’t believe you would say something like that!” she raged. Edward rolled his eyes and she pointed a finger at him with a hiss, alcohol-fueled headache already pulsing at her temples. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Edward. You either take this discussion seriously or you can fucking walk out that door.”
He held out his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It was just a joke, little one.”
“It’s not though! Everyone looks up to you Edward, you’re Pops, you’re Captain. The boys look at you for guidance, you think they don’t notice how you treat me? Or any woman in general? Sure, it’s a joke to you. But when you put shitty comments like that along with the uniform the nurses wear—”
“Now none of the gals have ever complained about that—” Eddie tried to interrupt her and she spoke louder.
“The boys notice. You think they don’t repeat that same kind of crap talk to each other about women that you repeat? You think they won’t treat a woman like that?”
Edward winced. “They see how you treat you though. I don’t let them talk ill about you.” Bee shook her head.
“Sure, actions can speak louder than words sometimes. But if you just blindly accept their comments about women when it doesn’t happen to mention me, you think they don’t take that heart? I might be protected but they know that everyone else is fair game.”
“They’ve never treated the nurses badly.”
“They whistle,” Bee confessed and watched as Edward froze. “They say comments under their breath as the nurses pass by. I’ve heard it. They don’t dare do it now around me. But how long have they done that before I came, Edward?”
His cheek twitched, probably from the force of him clenching his teeth. Bee didn’t say anything else, just waited for his reaction. Finally, he let out a long breath.
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll do something about it,” Whitebeard promised solemnly. She nodded.
“Which leaves the discussion of the nurses—” At Edward’s groan she held up a hand. “Let me finish.”
“What would you have me do?” He bit out, obviously annoyed already. “Can’t send ‘em away, I need the damn things as much as I hate to admit it.”
Bee clicked her tongue. “Not things,” she reminded and his frown deepened. Before he could say anything, she went on, “Why don’t you have male nurses?”
Whitebeard shrugged. “What for?” At her unimpressed look, he sighed.
“Just haven’t. Think Marco has brought it up once or twice.” Thinking it over he pulled on his mustache. “Might have told him not to bother,” Edward confessed. “It wasn’t anything bad, you understand. Just figured they were better down in the Medical Bay rather than up on deck caring for me.”
“Not as much eye candy you mean?” Bee didn’t flinch at Edward’s glare.
“I care about my daughters just as much as my sons.” The warning tone in his voice was clear and Bee decided not to press her luck. Although he might say that she had no doubt that occasionally his eyes lingered on the nurses, she saw it often enough with the rest of the crew.
“How about you start allowing male nurses then?” At Edward’s answering grunt she smiled. “Give them pink scrubs. And let the nurses decide which uniform they wanna wear, the dress or shirt and pants. All of them can be pink to match.”
“Some of the boys might not like that.” Her blood boiled.
“I don’t think the boys ought to have a say—”
Edward chuckled as he scooped her up and quickly deposited her in his lap before she could fight back. “I meant the male nurses dear. With the pink.”
“Oh.” Reaching up she patted at a pec and Edward indulged her, one hand reaching under her thighs and hefting her up to his face. She pressed a kiss against his chin. “Yeah, maybe. But anyone who didn’t want to be one of your personal nurses doesn’t have to be and the girls still get to pick the uniform.”
He sighed, the gust of saké breath breaking over her and Bee wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Alright fine little one. You win.”
“Yeah?” she asked, alcohol-breath forgotten as she stared up at him. Whitebeard laid down on the bed, keeping her cradled against his collarbone. Bee heard his boots hit the floor before his body relaxed into the mattress.
“Yeah. Makes no difference to me. I don’t like what I’m hearin’ about the boys and the nurses, I’ll see to that myself. The uniform is,” he shrugged with one shoulder, “not a big deal.”
Bee bit the side of her tongue against the rush of disagreement. It clearly was a big deal. They had discussed it many times before and her disgruntlement towards the topic hadn’t ever been taken very seriously. Still, she knew a victory when she saw it and didn’t comment.
Settling against his massive chest, she sighed, a weight lifted off her shoulders. She was going to feel terrible tomorrow, she knew. The alcohol was still buzzing along in her veins, even if the effect had been dulled. She lightly smacked at his chest. “Pillow,” she demanded and watched through lidded eyes—heavy with sleep—as Eddie immediately reached out to grab up the extra pillow.
Regardless of the impending hangover, she was happy they had talked. Grabbing the outstretched pillow she stuffed it beside the crook of his neck, atop his pillow before collapsing into it. Now she wouldn’t slip into the gap between his neck and the pillow, as she had on several occasions.
Eddie always positioned her in the middle of his chest and she could sleep like that, sure. But frequently she’d crawl up to cuddle into his neck. Falling asleep like that without a pillow to cushion her had resulted in one-to-many sore necks.
“Feel better?” Edward asked.
“Do you?” she shot back. He chuckled and it rumbled into her very bones.
“I do. I love you, little Bee.” She flung an arm over his throat and buried her face into the side of his neck, hiding a pleased smile. After a moment had passed, he jostled his shoulder. “Not going to say it back?” The smile in his voice was clear.
“I love you too, Eddie.” A gentle finger ran itself down her back as his cheek cuddled against her.
“Good,” he said as she drifted away. “Good.”