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“So then! It was all for nothing because some fucking IDIOT lost my shit anyways! People put names on things for a FUCKING REASON!” You scream out towards the shore. Fists curling the blue and white star patterned blanket under you into little balls.
Besides you, Buggy nods in agreement. Sipping from his glass of rum while trying and failing to hide the small smirk on his lips as it’s illuminated by the full moon's light.
Nights like this are always fun, it feels like the sun goes down early in an attempt to hide from your rage, and Buggy wastes no time preparing a picnic basket and some snacks, the drinks are up to you, or whichever crewmate you happen to descend upon during your fit.
It was a shock to the Captain when you came to him for the first time during one of your off days; managing an infirmary with a ton of circus performers/pirates as your patients could throw anyone into a tizzy. Before you two became as comfortable in your relationship as you are now, you would shut the door to your medics room and screech at anyone who dared to be injured while you were fuming. It was pure luck that your lover managed to avoid you on days like this till you felt more safe showing this side of yourself to him. And to your pleasant surprise, he loves it.
“Who lost it darling? We’ll leave them at the next port and not look back.” He hums, patting your shoulder with a disembodied hand. You soften your expression and sigh.
“I’ll tell you in the morning, just the thought of them is pissing me off more.”
He laughs in response, laying back against the blanket and pushing your plates and drinks to the side with a symphony of clinks and clacks.
“Anything else you want to ramble about?”
“That FUCK-ASS chief of staff! the absolute shithat was ruining my organization! Just tossing my stuff left and right while looking for someone’s file or something! Then! He had the fucking AUDACITY to act like patient doctor confidentiality wasn’t a thing when…”
Part of why Buggy loves nights like this is because you always seem so cool and collected. Not batting an eye when crewmates would shuffle in with stab wounds or lion scratches, scorched mouths or joints that wouldn’t snap out of whatever position they had been pulled into. So, getting to see you scream and kick while spewing profanities felt like a right of passage to the clown. He finally, and successfully made it into your heart, and he plans to take damn good care of it. If that means taking one night every month or so to land on a quieter island and set up a ‘picnic date of fury’, then so be it. He enjoys watching you ramble away.
As you hoot and howl about whatever stunt Cabaji had pulled earlier in the week, Buggy inches closer to you, one disassembled body part at a time. His second reason for loving a night like this is the moment after you crash.
From the big meal you two shared, to the drinks, and the weight of your emotions, you huff and puff till you eventually fall all the way down and land with your head on his shoulder. Or in tonight's case, on his chest as you both lay down, eyes facing the stars.
“And he thinks that I’m not to be trusted with sensitive information? What a biiitch.” You finish, clinging onto Buggy's striped shirt and absentmindedly playing with his scarf, twirling the purple fabric around your fingers.
“A bitch indeed! I’ll have to bring that up during our next meeting.”
“I hope you do! Drag his ass through the mud, see if he ever come into my fucking infirmary uninvited again.”
Buggy chuckles and pats your head, making you look up at him. Despite your enraged yapping, each time you spin to see that he’s still there and listening, your gaze softens immediately. As angry as you are, none of your frustrations stem from the man next to you. In fact you find that after a night like this one, they’ve fizzled out almost completely thanks to your beloved jester, and he drinks that lovesick look in like ice cold water on a hot day.
You take a deep breath and scoot up to press a kiss to one cheek then the other, earning a smile from him, then his nose, and before he can fuss, you pull him into a bright kiss on the lips.
Pulling back before you were quite ready to move on, Buggy sends you a mischievous smirk. “And here I thought I was the dramatic one.” He hums, wrapping an arm around you.
“You are! This is a once in a while type of thing!”
“Sure sure, but what happens when Cabaji tries to move his bed into your office? It’ll be an every night thing.”
“When He Does What?”
“Kidding! I’m just kidding!” Buggy cackles, hiding his face on your shoulder. “Could you imagine?” He giggles, earning a scoff from you.
“I’d gut him.”
“Bet you would.”
You quiet down for a moment, laying your head back to admire the sparkly blue picnic basket and the mess of plates that had at one point held your shared meal. The edges of the blanket dip into the sand, and the sound of the waves soothes your mind. Bringing your gaze back to Buggy, you find that he is already looking at you, sea colored eyes crinkling gently at the edges, long dark lashes ticking his blue eyebrows.
“Thank you again, for preparing this and listening to me, Bug, it means a lot.”
Buggy grins, his painted smile is a little smudged from dinner, but the stars capture his handsome expression with ease.
“You’re very welcome. I expect royal treatment for a week as payback.” He jokes, kissing your forehead.
“If I knew you were gonna charge me for this, then I would have just put Cabaji in Richie’s cage for the night and hid in my room.”
“You can still do that.” Buggy sings, the thought sparks a giggle from you, and you feel his chest puff up with pride. “The cage thing though. I want you in my room tonight.”
“Oh? Whatever for, Captain?”
“Where else would you sleep? In Caba-”
“Do nooott even joke about me rooming with that bastard.”
Buggy laughs, pulling you into a long kiss. When he leans back he presses another one on your forehead.
“Fair, I know for a fact that I wouldn’t let that happen. You’re all mine.” He hums. You nod at his words, laying your head back down on his chest.
“Damn right.”