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The relationship that the two of you had was strictly business. It served a purpose, for Crocodile to have someone on his arm, as a warlord garnering favour amongst the people of Alabasta. You certainly were able to reap the rewards of that position, to be draped in finery and doted on by the people and the employees of Baroque Works alike. Because, naturally, he couldn’t just have some fool on his arm - Crocodile needed someone just as dangerous as himself or at the very least as dangerous as Miss All Sunday, able to look after yourself and be capable in his absence. He couldn’t stand fools, or people who couldn’t stand on their own two feet. You were perfect. A strong fighter, unassuming when at his side, with your appearance being more androgynous but there was no doubt that beneath that was the same strength as any marine worth their salt.
That didn’t stop the way he treated you from giving you butterflies, though. It wasn’t real, none of it was, even the way he gifted you things screamed ‘just business’ and yet you couldn’t help the way it made your heart race, and made your hands clammy. You cursed yourself for it, because you knew your place, knew what your role was beside him, but the heart wants what it wants. Your heart wanted him.
It was a night like any other, Crocodile was taking you out somewhere to support the local economy and be seen, the two of you together as a strong, capable couple. Someone to look to. Reliable, trustworthy, present in the community. It was also a nice excuse for the two of you to get an evening off from everything. No business, no death, no worrying about marines and local politics. Just the peace of existing together, knowing precisely where you stood, and who the other was. Not many people knew the great Sir Crocodile, but you were able to claim that you likely knew him best of anyone currently in his life. You may not know his past, but what did you need to? You knew who he was in the present.
And in that very present? He was standing outside your door, knuckles rapping at the wood, waiting for you to join him. You never kept Crocodile waiting.
When you opened the door, you found him dressed in a different suit than usual, well tailored and professional as they always were. “Do I finally get to know where we’re going?” You asked him, quickly closing and locking your door before you hooked your arm around his, letting him lead the way. “Impatient boy,” he lightly chided, but the smirk tugging at his lips behind his usual cigar told you that he was planning on telling you, “we’re going to the theatre.” And if it weren’t for the fact that your arm was linked with his, you might have entirely stopped in place. “The theatre?” You repeated, unable to keep the excitement out of your voice. “Careful, or I might think you’re excited.” He lightly teased, and all you could do was scoff. This was why you made such a convincing couple, the two of you were able to tease each other, to laugh just a little (though mostly when nobody was watching), to lean on each other as if you truly were a couple. Or, at the very least, old friends.
“It’s almost like you’ve planned something just for me, knowing I’d like it, and then kept it a secret until the last moment just to make me excited.” You accused him with a raised brow. “Oh? No, that doesn’t sound like me.” He lightly replied, though the way those golden eyes peered down at you, just out of the corner of his eye, told a very different story. “No, of course not.” You replied, rolling your eyes with a soft laugh. Silence lapsed over the two of you then, peacefully walking down the street as the sun set over the horizon, casting the streets in a soft golden hue. The walk to the theatre wasn’t long, but plenty of locals from the area saw you together, quietly walking, simply being in each other’s company. That was the main mission for the evening complete - add to your reputation together. Now, you could focus on actually enjoying yourselves.
The moment you were sat in your seats, in a cushy box above the average audience member, the two of you were able to relax a little. Nobody was seeing you up there, nobody could judge or question you. Though you still sat close together, your knee pressed to his, his hand partially on your thigh as well as his own. You didn’t question it, and Crocodile didn’t comment either. It was simply natural for the two of you by now.
The show was nothing short of excellent. Of course, that was exactly what you’d expect. Crocodile seemed generally bored throughout, but he never said a word on it. You didn’t notice the fact that he spent far more of the evening watching your reactions than the show itself, eyes dragging over your face to take in every detail - each shift of your brows, crease in your cheeks, twitch of your lips. That was far more interesting to him. Who cared for a show with singing and dancing? Certainly not him. Not when the real show was sitting beside him in the booth.
He walked you home after, as he always did because he was a gentleman, or at least he excelled and portraying one. Your arm looped with his again, fingers wrapped around his bicep, and if you were less focused on making sure you didn’t fall over the uneven flagstones of your street you might have lost yourself and started idly running your fingers over the muscle. Your door was finally in sight, and you dared to pay just that tiny bit less attention, apparently at the exact wrong moment. The next step tripped you, and almost sent you tumbling, if it weren’t for the fact that in the next instant a hook was curled around your waist effortlessly, the tip just short of breaking skin.
You looked up at Crocodile, eyes slightly wide, heart racing. You’d almost hit the pavement, you would’ve if he hadn’t been there. “Thank you, sir.” You said softly, and Crocodile scoffed. “Don’t call me that, not here.” He replied, and with his hand he gently returned you to your feet, only now you were closer than you’d been before, chest almost pressed fully against his. Your breath caught as you looked up at him, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in your throat. You’d never been quite so deep in his space - sure, you touched him near constantly, but it was always with a certain properness to it, designed to be acceptable to be seen. This was more intimate. The feel of his breath on your face, his hand still hovering, the arch of his hook pressed to your back as if he didn’t want you to step away.
“Si- Crocodile..” You murmured. “So he can be taught.” He teased, the smirk beneath his cigar seemed to make your knees buckle. You opened your mouth to reply, but found that nothing came out. You didn’t know how you’d even reply to that, even if all your words weren’t caught in your throat.
“Cat got your tongue, dear?” He prompted, leaning slightly further into your space. “No,” you stubbornly replied, even as you struggled to find something of substance to say. There was a beat where neither of you moved, simply staring at each other and breathing in the same air. Then a distant sound of a window closing seemed to snap the tension between the two of you, and Crocodile stood straight, stepping back out of your space.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, watching as you walked the rest of the short distance to your front door. “See you tomorrow, sir.” You watched the way he clenched his jaw, cigar crushed slightly between his teeth. You couldn’t help laughing.
Tomorrow was another day.