Chapter Text
Shanks and Mihawk had loved you, for various reasons, for their own motivations, from minute one.
...Buggy hadn't fallen for your charms so easily.
You were suspicious to him. He knew well enough that if something appeared too good from the outside, it was probably a trap. So for a long time after Roger had rescued you and brought you home to live with the pirates, Buggy treated all of your actions as if they had been the exact opposite, and always indicative of some secret evil.
You were kind to him? Only because you hated him so much. You looked pretty? Only because you were disguising some inner, deeper ugliness. You were a strong fighter? Only because of all the blood on your hands. You were intelligent? Only to deceive him.
It took a long, long time, and many months and even a few years to really wear him down. But when that had finally happened, Buggy was yours for life.
He fell for you in not one, but two moments: this, he vividly recalled, was the first.
It was a stormy day at a small port when you and Buggy stopped into a tavern for a drink. Shanks and Roger had stayed behind to fix the ship.
He had watched you with the smallest amount of interest, as if you were an amusement, as if you were a pretty bug. His original interest in you, small as it had been to begin with, had gone completely downhill when he realized you weren't really the performing type. You didn't like jokes or attention, and you certainly didn't beg for it the way Buggy did. The two of you hadn't really been able to form a relationship anyway, considering you spent most of your time with Shanks.
He'd ordered a drink too big for himself, and watched as you sipped daintily from a small one.
"That's so little," he said. "What's the point?"
You shrugged.
"I like being alert," you explained. "Makes it easier to stay safe."
Buggy snorted, rolling his eyes and turning back to his drink.
Two larger, older pirates sidled up on either of your sides', eyeing Buggy, but mostly you.
"Hey, sweetheart," said one of them. "You know this guy?"
"Yes," you said quietly. "He's my friend."
"...This clown?"
Buggy stiffened.
"Fellas, let's not-"
Shanks would have said let them talk. Shanks would have sat quietly until they were gone, or maybe just snickered at Buggy's plight.
But that's not what you did.
"He's stronger than either of you," you said nonchalantly, and the larger pirate stared at you.
"Really? The clown?"
"Really," you confirmed. The two pirates looked at Buggy, menacingly.
"He doesn't look very strong to me."
"We'll protect you, sweetheart. You don't need him."
"Honk, honk," the larger pirate jeered, reaching for Buggy's nose, and completely without warning you reeled back and punched him in the face.
Buggy was not prepared for that to happen.
The two pirates stood up and leered over you, intimidatingly. Buggy was stricken by the sudden realization of how large they both were, and how comparatively scrawny the two of you were.
But he knew he had to protect you. (If only to keep Shanks from killing him.)
And so Buggy punched the second guy, wincing as his fist hit him.
He wished he was stronger. God, in that moment, how he wished he was stronger.
(He didn't have the Chop Chop fruit yet. That would've been great.)
But Buggy was scrappy, and he didn't need much of an advantage in a melee situation. He was a kicker, a scratcher, and a biter. You were more elegant in your movements - almost balletic, and Buggy resolved to ask you about it later - but both of you managed to defeat them, and make it back to the ship in mostly one piece.
"Thanks," he said, quietly, as you sat cross-legged across from him, applying eyeliner. You had offered to fix his makeup using your own, and after a lot of protesting, he'd agreed.
Your eyes lingered over him. He looked away, suddenly embarassed.
"What for?"
"For, y'know, helping me out back there."
"Of course," you said, smiling sweetly. "You're my nakama."
You applied a bit to your own lips before holding it out to Buggy.
"Um," he said. "Can you do it? I'm feelin' kinda shaky."
"Mhm," you hummed, carefully painting it on.
"Good?" he asked.
"Good. I do happen to like your nose, by the way."
"That's nice," he responded. "I like yours."
You grinned.
"I didn't realize you were such a fighter," Buggy said.
"I'm not," you confessed. "I'm terrified. I hate fighting."
"But you punched him."
"Well, he was being mean. And I knew you'd help me."
"How?"
"I don't know, it's what you do."
"Did you mean what you said? About me being your friend?"
"Of course," you said. "You're nearly all I have."
Buggy had never fallen in love with anyone before, if only because most of the time they hated him so openly before he could even consider it. But he thought that maybe tonight, under this sky, he might be in love with you.
The second thing that made him realize how he felt was later that night, as he fell asleep in the bunk under Shanks'.
"How was it?" Shanks asked, sleepily. "...Spending the day with her?"
"Oh," said Buggy. "It was alright."
"Alright?" asked Shanks, propping himself up to look at Buggy. "She's the best, what are you talking about?"
"You think so?"
"Well, yeah, I mean - she's smart, funny, a whole lot nicer than most of us-"
And while Shanks carried on about all these great things about you, two ideas bounced around in Buggy's head - first, how much Shanks was correct about all these great traits of yours, things Buggy had never dared notice before, and second, how much Shanks cared for you. It made him think that maybe there was something special about you, something he hadn't seen before.
And so Buggy told Shanks about your little adventure, and told him about what you'd done for him, and Shanks smiled to himself, and simply said "It's just what she does..."
What could he say? Buggy just loved how you loved.