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Vista and Thatch are sparring. Two dual-sword-wielding men going after one another in front of his chair, swords striking against each other with frightening accuracy. The loud metallic twangs echo across the deck.
Whitebeard watches idly, slightly bored, their movements familiar enough to him by now. A shifting weight in his lap makes him look down.
Bee sits atop a thigh, her black hair thrown into a messy bun in a simple tank top and shorts today. The sun bears down on them but even with the cloudless day, the air is still mild enough it isn’t blistering, the sea sending occasional breezes that cool the skin.
Which is good, Edward could sometimes get irritated in the heat, especially listening to his sons' whining. Eyes the color of honey take her in. She actually puts down her book, with the bookmark in place instead of using a finger to hold the page. A gesture he’s come to realize means she expects to be distracted for more than a moment.
Her gaze is transfixed on the spar. Interesting. Normally Bee barely spares a fight a second glance, only looking up if the gathered crowd becomes too loud with their cheering. The book gets tucked between his leg and the chair as her hands start flicking, small short thrusts. It takes a moment before Edward realizes she's copying the moment of the swords.
Now that's too interesting not to say something. "Vista," he calls out. Instantly Vista's casual demeanor falls and his expression tightens into something more serious. A second later, Thatch lets out a loud 'oof' as his back slams onto the deck. Vista is their best swordfighter for a reason.
"Not necessary," he grunts out while Vista sheaths his swords before holding out a hand to pull Thatch back to his feet.
"My apologies, brother!" Once he's standing, Vista turns to Whitebeard with a large smile, looking expectant. "Something I can do for you, Pops?"
"Have a spar with Bee here?" At the mention of her name, she starts spluttering but Edward ignores it. "Something easy of course but I'd like to see it."
"Certainly!" Vista agrees with relish, always happy to teach.
Bee tries to argue but Whitebeard is deaf to her complaints and denials. Soon enough they have her set up across from Vista, a sabre in her hand. The fencing weapon is light (and small enough for her frame) that after much debate it’s decided it will work well.
"Go easy on her!" Thatch calls out from the sidelines, sitting on the steps with an easy grin. Bee shoots him a glare before shifting her gaze back to Vista.
She shifts awkwardly as Vista twirls his mustache. "Now my dear, don't fret. Let's start with the basics. First, we must begin with a stance, ah! Very good!"
Bee instantly widens her feet and holds the sabre aloft, a clear opening position. Edward props an elbow up on an armrest before cushioning a cheek against his knuckles. Something tells him this will be very entertaining.
Vista prattles on, an over-talker if there ever was one. Whitebeard waits impatiently but doesn't try to hurry him along either. The last thing he wants is to rush on the presentation and have Bee get confused or flustered and end up injured.
Finally, his ears perk up as he hears the familiar shiiing as one of Vista's swords is withdrawn. Vista is still talking but at least now he goes for a hit. Bee instantly blocks, the motion quick and assured, effortless. Edward grins as Vista's eyebrows raise in surprise.
They parry back and forth, Vista increasing his speed as Bee keeps up with each sharp whack of his sword. From the corner of his eye, Edward sees Thatch straighten up from the slouch he created across several stairs. More of his sons start to gather 'round, always a few stragglers hanging around the deck.
"You've had training before?" Vista ventures with a smile.
Bee grunts in agreement focused on keeping up with his swings, blocking and trading a few hits in return that Vista easily blocks. "Fencing," she manages at last.
"Wonderful!" he praises, going for another light hit. "Let's make this interesting then." Vista speeds up and Edward can see her start to struggle to keep up.
When Vista lands a gentle slap on the side of a thigh with the flat of his blade they separate, each taking a few steps back.
Edward leans forward with interest as he sees a flash of challenge spark across her brown eyes before she settles herself.
They restart their opening positions before Vista thrusts forward. Bee deflects it before moving in close. The swordsman tries to step back, create some distance but Bee presses forward, trying to keep the range short.
Whitebeard snorts with amusement. It makes sense, she’s small—close quarters were probably better for her, with less to protect her body against. However Vista was skilled, such a maneuver was hardly difficult to overcome.
That is until Bee catches Vista's sword and forces it down. Reaching out with her other hand she grabs onto his lapel and pulls forcing the larger man to bend slightly before she—
spits in his face.
There's a beat of shock from the crowd but she doesn't linger, just uses Vista's surprise to her advantage as she kicks out at his knee while shoving her foot behind his, obviously trying to trip him.
It doesn't work. At most Vista stumbles before regaining his balance—and his wits—deftly he flicks his sword up. Shoving with more of his shoulder, easily the force propels her sword from her hand. It skitters across the deck and in the same breath, he kicks out with a foot so she tumbles to the ground.
Slapping against the wood hard, she wheezes as the breath leaves her lungs and Vista stands over her. Her neck tilts up as he suspends the point of his sword above it before wiping at his face with his other gloved hand.
"M'dear that was rude ," he says crossly before Edward can't help it anymore and bursts into a loud roar of laughter.
A splattering of claps and Vista—ever the gentlemen—bends down to help Bee to her feet. She hops up easily and says something to the man that gets lost in the din of the crowd before making her way back to Edward.
He smiles down at her before grabbing her up. "Eddie!" she protests as he squeezes her against his chest and lays a few pleased kisses against her face. "I'm sweaty, stop! Lemme go, I wanna shower."
"Gwahaha! You're fine! Let me bask in your success before you scurry away." Bee rolls her eyes but stops struggling as much. "What was all that then? Trying to upset Vista?"
Bee snorts. "Aren't you pirates? Figured there are no rules in a duel. I knew I was going to lose anyways but I wanted to at least try ."
The determination in her voice makes his smile widen before he licks a thick stripe across her shoulder and bare neck. The taste of salt fills his mouth and he hums with pleasure before dipping back to drag his teeth along the junction of her neck.
Bee's struggling returns with a vengeance. " Edward !" she hisses out, annoyed. Always shy with affection in front of his sons, he has been trying to break her out of the habit but alas.
Although this time it might be annoyance at the lick itself, now that he thought about it.
"What?" Edward asks innocently before he starts kissing a path up her neck, and he can feel her tension start to ebb as the fight slowly drains out of her. Whitebeard's Observation Haki flares and he quickly glares into the crowd, the look laced with the barest edge of Conqueror's.
The resulting gulp and fearful expressions he gets back are satisfying but moreso it's the silencing of an almost-groan from the peanut gallery at his affectionate display that makes him grin. If he hadn't stopped it, Bee would have immediately stiffened and demanded to be released.
His sons still aren’t used to the thing he has with Bee. Hell, he isn't used to it himself. It’s new, the dynamic strange to him. Who would have thought he would date?
Edward hadn't thought he'd need more than an occasional roll in the hay but here he was. And he'd be damned if his sons ruin that with their bitching. He lets his lips press against hers, his eyes falling shut as he feels the last of her stiffness fade away.
It is sweet, for the moment that it lasts. Her tongue flicks against his lips and before he can begin to chase after it, Bee pulls away. Blinking his eyes open he sees her make a face. "You taste like sweat, that's so gross."
He chuckles. "Careful," he warns lowly. "I could be tempted to take another taste, just to hear you complain."
Bee glares, not cowed at all. "Try it and see what happens, Newgate. Now, lemme up." This time she pats at his forearm and the feeling of her asking for permission is what gets him to let her go, although he grumbles about it.
She doesn't acknowledge him at all as she retrieves her book and clambers down and out of his lap. There's a pout at his lips that he can't help. Damn woman, doesn't even feel sorry for him.
Watching her walk away he slouches a bit, annoyed at her uncaring attitude before she casts a look over her shoulder back at him. Bee hesitates and he raises a brow at her in question.
"Wanna shower together?" she offers, an olive branch and he smiles.
"How about a bath?"
This time numerous sons do groan, as they likely remember the first—and last time—they took a bath together. He'd kicked out the unsuspecting bathers from the massive bath leaving them cold and shivering in the hallway. The resulting horror stories still circulate.
That wasn't his fault, Bee had been sick at the time, miserable and desperately pleading for a bath despite it not being the woman's time block. What else was he supposed to do?
Although he glares, the damage is already done and when he looks back at Bee he expects her to refuse.
Instead, she's looking thoughtfully up at the sky and his heart lifts with hope. Glancing back she answers his smile with one of her own, the sight of it beautiful. "Yeah, a bath sounds good."
He laughs at her acceptance before he stands to follow her, wherever she might lead.