silverwolfcc (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-21 04:46 pm
silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-21 04:46 pm
(no subject)
Disclaimer: I'm not Oda, I don't own One Piece. My apologies.
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: Pirate Hunting Part 2
Rating: PG-13 for language and references to violence
Keitha ran through the streets of Loguetown. She wasn't lost, she just didn't know where she was going. But since she knew how to get there so she decided that meant she wasn't lost. Occasionally the clouds dropped fat drops on her head, threatening to downpour much more. She looked up with annoyance but the rain seemed to want to wait until it had caught full momentum so it could really drown people out.
The city's winding streets took her down several more bends and for a moment Keitha almost regretted her choice of the two options. She still suspected that she'd find the pirates on the backroads; her instincts told her so, but maybe if Smoker had been the one looking he could just jump from rooftop to rooftop. Keitha was half-tempted to go try it herself but one quick measurement from one roof to another (15 steps) made her quickly change her mind as she realized the horrible red splat she'd make on grey cobblestone.
Hearing voices around another corner, the spy planted herself flat against a wall. It was probably just civilians getting shopping done but most Loguetown residents had enough sense to get indoors before it started to pour cats and dogs. Cocking her ear slightly she listened, trying to distinguish voices. She could make out that they were male but nothing beyond that. Sighing, the red-head peeked around the building, she was going to have to get closer if she wanted to hear anything and it probably wasn't even her prey at all. Probably just some workmen trying to finish move boxes before the rain hit.
The darky alley was deserted, the voices coming from another street over. Keitha skittered across cobblestones trying to move as quietly as possible before once again pressing up against grimy apartment buildings. She inched foward, closer to the sounds until she was satisfactorily close.
"Last set of boxes, oyabun," a voice sprang through the air.
"Great, just set them over there. We should try to get them inside before the rain hits," the boss replied.
Keitha sighed; it was just workmen after all like she'd suspected. She was about to move on, maybe walk past them, but a heavy set of footprints came running up to them.
"Boss! Boss!" another man yelled out of breath.
"What is it this time?" the boss asked sounding irritated but concerned.
"Davies!" the new voice replied sounding frantic.
The lieutenant perked at this; wasn't that the name of the skeptical tough guy in the crew? She really had to get around to memorizing roster files from the folders one of these days.
"Shit," one of the pirates swore.
Sounding as if his mouth ran dry the captain asked worriedly, "What happened?"
"White Hunter came and some red-haired chick -- took out the whole squad," the pirate replied out of breath.
Ther was more swearing and the captain asked, "Did they take them back to the base yet?" Keitha didn't catch the answer, it must have been a nod either way. "Spread out, see if you can find them and get away. Leave the boxes for now, they'll just slow us down. Havier, you check on the ship..."
Keitha waltzed onto the street, holding the Benton dangerously low, the green almost radiating in the low mist that started to fall before the rain. "No need," she grinned mischeviously here, "You can join your pals soon enough I'm sure."
The spy had been frequently told that she showed a daft lack of common sense, that she was going to get herself killed from rushing into danger and that there were six men there instead of three like she'd originally though did give her some pause. She liked to train against three or four men at a time but she'd never tried six at once and the last time she'd been up against four she'd almost gotten killed. Still, maybe they'd be more frightened and run.
No such luck (even with Benton's help) as the men all darted in for the attack. There was no preamble on their part, no "How dare you take my shipmates?!" no "You'll pay for this!" just blades swinging at her head and arms -- but that was how Keitha liked it. She parried off the blades, swearing lightly as one pulled a gun out of his waistband but the lieutenant ducked just in time for the bullet to go into the concrete wall behind her. Managing to get her cuffs on one (none of them were devil fruit users so she just used the extras she'd brought), she paid for the chancey behavior with a cut to her cheek and another to leg. Keitha kicked back one of the pirates, slamming him into the wall with a sharp crack but had to roll to avoid two more swords crashing down on her.
The pirates' swords hit each other's swords instead, giving her time to get away but she got kicked in the stomach by Blue-cheeks. Grunting from losing her wind, she stood up just in time to block the sword swiping for her throat. She took a step back, which forced her up against the wall and the other two pirates recovered from hitting her, adding their blades to the one she already had to fend off. Blue-cheeks was grinning cockily, clearly he thought he had the upper hand but Keitha fought best on the defensive.
Using frequent flicks of her wrist she kept the pirates at bay, even being brash enough to swipe at knee-caps. The action made one of them jump back but the one that she'd kicked into the wall earlier sprang back into action trying to literally tackle her. She dodged the pounce but in order to move away, the captain was able to slash at her hands. The Benton's finger guard easily protected her hand but the force when he hit the Benton made it slip down enough that one of the other swords stabbed her upper arm. Seeing his chance, Blue-Cheeks knocked the sword away, grabbing the marine around the neck to choke her.
Keitha felt herself being lifted by the throat, another hand closing in on her neck and kicked feebly, her vision going black as she struggled to breathe.
***
Smoker watched as the red-headed marine slid around the building, darting into the next alley. He shook his head puffing on smoke. The marine captain had no idea what the idiot was up to now. "Probably playing at being a spy," he rolled his eyes thinking to himself. He tailed her discreetly, hoping she didn't notice. He could do without the fight about him intruding on her turf.
The White Hunter had already checked the docks and repair shops, he'd found their ship easily enough and arrested the two pirates guarding it but their captain Blue-cheeks remained missing. He'd been hoping Keitha had found them but it appeared otherwise. Well, Loguetown was a big city and she could probably use the help whether she'd accept it or not. If Smoker was counting right there should be six pirates left of the twenty-two men crew, but admittedly, math wasn't his strong point.
Sneaking closer to the lieutenant, his ears perked at the sounds of men talking. He'd always been proud of his good hearing but it seemed Keitha was trying to observe the speakers. Was she spying on innocent civilians or had she actually found the remaining pirates finally? Attempting to get closer (though he could already hear the voices just fine) Smoker watched as the idiot went dashing out from her hiding spot to where the men were waiting.
"That idiot!" Smoker mentally roared, "She really doesn't think before she acts, does she?!" He chased after her, tearing around the corners and wincing at the sound of a gun going off. If she got hurt... it'd be her own damn fault, but he'd definitely have to kill her for it. Almost skidding around the corner, Smoker observed that the blockhead was trying to face down six pirates all on her own. While it was the sort of thing Tashigi also would have done at least that particular ditz had the forethought to get help before she recklessly dashed off, this was just insane. Did the spy even realize that there would be six of them or had she thought it was just the captain and one or two others? Even that was bad enough but this was... stupid.
Smoker slammed his fist into one of the pirates trying to reload his gun, knocking the man to the ground, unconcious. He tore one of the swordsmen away from her, throwing the man into a brick building several feet away and growled as he watched Keitha being choked, her kicking ceasing and beginning to go limp. Settling for both punching Blue-cheeks in the face (it wasn't hard to tell the captain apart; his sideburns had a definite blue twinge) and kneeing him in the stomach, Smoker smashed the others out of his way as well. Glancing down at the red-head coughing (she must be concious at least), he finished the job of tying up the men, slamming them all in handcuffs just to make sure, and finally bent down to check on the lieutenant.
Still coughing, she put her left hand up to her right arm, trying to cover up a much-too large cut. Grinding his cigars furiously, Smoker swore as he tried to find something for a makeshift bandage. "It's nothing," Keitha waved off his intentions, "I'm fine."
Smoker growled louder. He was completely furious with her. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been expecting her to do and instead of proving herself to be level-headed enough to act with the responsibility required of a marine office, she went off and pulled stupid shit like this. "What do you think you were doing?!" he demanded furiously.
"I don't want them to get away," Keitha's brow furrowed.
"You would have been killed," Smoker glared at her clearly livid.
The lieutenant actually had the gall to act annoyed, "But I'm not," she replied, rubbing her throat where a rather large purple welt was fast developing, "So get off it."
Smoker's jaw twitched with rage, "Lieutenant!" he roared, taking out his anger by smacking a pirate trying to sneak up on him into the wall with an extended smokey fist. Did one of them get free of their ropes or was it a seventh member he'd missed? "No stupid stunts, remember?" Keitha nodded. "Well what exactly do you call this?!"
Keitha's eyes burned with outraged indignation as she got to her feet. "I had things under control," she replied clearly ignoring the fact that she was being choked to death, overwhelmed by numbers and in danger of dying and it was only pure luck that Smoker had been there to save her at all.
Smoker's gloved fists clenched and unclenched with rage. "No," he growled with quiet wrath, "You didn't." He slammed a fist into the wall behind her taking note of the bullet hole, only adding to his fury. He ticked off a list on his fingers, "No one knew where you were, you didn't call for backup, you didn't even try to lead them to a better place, running recklessly right into where they had the advantage by knowing the layout and even when it was clear you were outnumbered, you didn't even try to get away. That is not having the situation in control."
The red-head twitched her jaw, mad that he was mad but actually listening and considering, and saying nothing for once.
"It's not a weakness," Smoker growled furiously, "To seek help when you need it. It IS one to let your goddam stupid pride lead you into situations that you can't handle." Keitha opened her mouth indignantly but Smoker over-rode her like a tidal wave. "You COULD have handled them, if you'd thought it through and led them somewhere better suited to you. Instead you walked right into what could have been an ambush."
The lieutenant took a deep breath, defiantly glaring him back in the eye but suddenly sighed and acknowledged, "I'm sorry."
Smoker snorted. Not good enough. She was going to do the same stupid move again. Smoker reached out a smokey arm once more to wrap up the pirate in tighter ropes, ignoring the rest of the pirates who were fidgeting, also attempting to escape and sulking at not being the center of attention. "Maybe you've forgotten," the marine captain reminded her acidicly, "But you were sent here for training. If you're going to take off like a two-year-old or you want the responsibility to have people trust you can handle being off of apron-strings then you'd better start thinking things through more!"
Her chest puffed up again, Keitha was eying him with angry resentment but Smoker didn't care.
"I've never lost a man in my command and I'm not about to start with you," he informed her frostily.
To his surprise, her face softened and looking down at the ground she murmured softly, "I'm sorry Taisa. I... You're right. I was so caught up in trying to prove myself I didn't think it through as much as I should have."
He arched an eyebrow at her confession; pleased but unwilling to show it. "And you'll do better next time?" he thundered, only just then beginning to realize his voice was echoing off the walls.
Keitha nodded hollowly. Smoker still wanted to put her on disciplinary action but she seemed to genuinely be absorbing his lecture. Maybe this was an advantage from allowing her to get close to him, he'd have to make note of it for the future. Grinding teeth on cigars, Smoker scanned her up and down taking in her wounds. The cheek and leg cut were superficial -- she'd gotten worse sparring with Tashigi dozens of times but her right arm looked immobile and her voice sounded hoarse. It might have been hoarse because she was upset, or maybe it was from being choked.
Leaning his head against hers he growled still furious as hell, "You idiot." She looked a little confused at his display of rage and almost (though not quite) affection. "No spy has ever died in their final combat training portion. Don't make me be the first one to have to explain what happened and find out what happens to the captain that allowed such a stupid thing to happen."
The spy laughed weakly in response, moving a hand (and wincing at the pain it brought even though she tried to hide it and switched to the other one) up to his face. "We prefer to be called intelligence gathering specialist officers," she said half-heartedly but still with a small smile.
Tearing himself away from her Smoker glacnced back at the fidgeting pirates, who still seemed irritated that Keitha and Smoker had been ignoring them to deal with what they considered bigger matters. Smoker supposed it probably was galling to be considered a pesky matter, one not worth that much attention. He'd probably be irritated if pirates did that to him. One of the pirates had been trying to cut his ropes on a rock but it wasn't working well and Smoker yanked the boy to his feet. Tallying them up, Smoker found 7 there and frowning to himself, the marine mentally recounted. 14 + 2 + 6 = 22. "Seems there's one that intelligence," he said the title sarcastically to irritate Keitha even though he was well aware she called herself a spy, "Completely missed."
Keitha jerked herself out of her own contemplations to look around Smoker at the pirates.
"Wait," she frowned counting in her head, "There's seven but there should be twenty-two so doesn't that mean we're actually missing one?"
"I caught two guarding their ship," Smoker explained as he yanked the pirates to their feet. The captain twitched at this, perhaps upset that they hadn't gotten away or wouldn't be able to help save him either.
"Oh," Keitha frowned, "So who's the extra?"
"Probably someone they picked up recently," Smoker shrugged half-leading, half-dragging the priates to where he'd brought the others to Tashigi. He purposely talked about the pirates as if they were too dumb to understand him mostly because it irritated them. It might have been a childish way to look at things but as far as Smoker was concerned if he had to be irritated, so did they.
The red-headed spy tailed along quietly, Smoker hoped because she was recognizing what she did wrong and how she could fix it for the future, not because her throat was too sore to speak but he was willing to take the silence either way. For all the fury he'd directed at her, he was almost just as mad at himself. He'd known he shouldn't let her go off alone but he'd let himself be talked into it, forgetting that while she could be competent she was also moronically brash.
The clouds finally did what they'd been threatening to all afternoon and it started to pour as if someone finally kicked the last straw holding a dam together. Smoker sighed, it was hard to keep cigars lit in a torrential downpour, and it wasn't any easier with the wind as bad as it was. Much to the captain's amusement however, Keitha actually seemed to welcome the flooding rains, perking up slightly and even gaining back some of the dance-like bounce to her step.
"Hullo, Tashigi," Keitha greeted more somberly as they reached the marine girl shielding her eyes with a lavender gloved hand.
The dark-haired woman's eye went wide as she saw the deep gash in Keitha's arms. She rushed over, filled with concern, demanding, "What happened?!"
Keitha's eyes flicked up to Smoker who was giving instructions to the other marines on what to do with the prisoners, the marines hopping about more quickly than usual in their eagerness to get out of the rain. "I was being stupid," she grinned meekly.
Smoker snorted, he wasn't sure if she was just being honest or trying to lesson the inevitable punishment she suspected would follow.
"Had a bit of a run-in with swords," she coughed, her throat burning from attempting to be used.
Oh yes, Smoker was only too aware that she was lucky to be alive. Damned if she didn't have uncanny amounts of pure luck. Maybe because of that devil fruit sword from her father or maybe the gods occasionally smiled down at her.
Tashigi tsked and fretted over trying to make a bandage knot that really just made Keitha's arm feel worse if the paling and grunts of pain were any indication and the lieutenant responded trying to sound casual, "I'll just see the Doctor when we get back, no worries. Don't fret so much."
Smoker growled to himself in irritation. Both his cigars went out again with another sudden whip of wind and Keitha's habit of trying to make light about far more serious things was irritating him. He decided he'd have to punish her after all, if only so that the gravity of the situation was honed in. He couldn't exactly punish her for getting hurt and some of his men had admittedly taken worse in scuffles with pirates but still, he clearly had to do something.
They trudged back to the fort, wet and soaked to the bone. Smoker growing increasingly grumpy with the rain; jeans were certainly more comfortable than the stupid marine uniform pants normally but they were a lot less fun when wet. And the leather repelled water but the fur retained it a little too much. Many of the marines actually marched back to base. Smoker hadn't given the order but he was glad to see they were in formation as if it was more natural than walking regularly. Keitha marched straight ahead but every so often when she thought no one was looking she'd give a woozy swoop, hand to arm even while trying to pretend she felt no pain.
Grinding his cigars, this was another thing that irritated Smoker. Each time she did it, he thought she was about to fall over and instinctively wanted to to catch her. He ghosted her with light smokey touches several times, urging her foward and ready to carry her when... if she fell. He couldn't tell if she noticed, she never outwardly reacted but every so often, her face would set with grim determination as she steeled herself walking on. It made him almost want to smack her. Had she completely missed the part about it wasn't a weakness to acknowledge help when she needed it; however it was a weakness to go on recklessly avoiding help for the sake of her stupid pride? But maybe she didn't really need help, maybe his gentle prodding just gave her the encouragement she needed. Maybe. It was hard to tell with Keitha and that frustrated him.
Once inside the compound, the marines shook themselves of the wetness, some escorting the prisoners to the cells below to await transfer or trial and others going about their duties. "Keitha," Tashigi gently reminded as the red-head stood in the hallway looking dazed and running a hand through soaking wet red hair, "Go to the doctor."
"Right," Keitha nodded before blinking and sheepishly admitting, "I um... don't know the way."
Smoker sighed, "I'll show her, Sargeant Major. Lieutenant: come." The red-head seemed rankled at being treated like a dog but followed nevertheless. "A thousand words," Smoker remarked when they were out of earshot of others.
The lieutenant shook herself as if she worried she'd missed the first half of his sentence. "What?" she asked in startled confusion.
"I want a thousand words on what you did wrong today and how to do better next time," Smoker explained. Seeing the blank look on her face he added, "That's your punishment." It was a common academy punishment -- especially for spies so she should at least be familiar with it.
An almost pleased, cocky grin settled on her face before she warily dashed it away (too late though, Smoker had already noticed. She really was terrible at hiding her emotions) trying to replace it with a more sullen expression. Smoker only then remembered that she was a writer, 1000 words probably meant nothing to her. He sighed, maybe he should have made it 5000 but he just didn't want to read that much of her rambling. Pushing the door to the infimary open, he nudged her inside with a strong hand on the middle of her back.
"Oi, doctor," Smoker called.
"Yeah?" the doctor called back from behind a screen, "Been in any more seastone fights?" He grumbled something he probably thought no one else could hear but Smoker caught every added word. "You damned idiot."
Smoker rolled his eyes answering, "No, it's the lieutenant. Get out here."
The man rolled out on a wheely chair turned backwards and lowered a pair of reading glasses to inspect the wound. "What'd you do to her?" the doctor demanded accusingly, glaring at Smoker.
The marine captain twitched, "Not me, pirates -- you freaking crackpot."
Keitha grinned with amusement over the interactions but winced as the doctor set her down on the sterile white cot and began applyng disinfectant.
"What's wrong girl?" the doctor asked sounding almost as sour and grumpy as Smoker.
"It stings," she admitted.
"Toughen up," he replied apathetically.
The lieutenant looked up at Smoker, "I can see why you get along so well." To her knowledge Smoker had three main friends on base: Tashigi, the doctor, and the third she counted as herself though she sometimes doubted that her captain would. But then maybe he counted himself as having more friends than she thought. Two noncomittal grunts came back at her, the doctor and captain sharing mixed expressions of annoyance with each other. Keitha fell into peals of laughter, "You're not related are you?"
"To him?!" they both objected at the same time, Keitha responding with even more laughter at this.
"No," Smoker said curtly.
"I'd kill myself if I had a brat like him for family," the doctor grumbled, wheeling over to get some tools.
Keitha grinned with pure delighted amusement. "A brat, huh?" she looked up at the tall man towering over her, "I'll have to remember that one. . ."
Smoker arched an eyebrow coolly trying to head off whatever psychotic idea was bubbling in her head but she just grinned up at him impishly.
The grin disappeared when the doctor told her indifferently, "Take your clothes off."
"What?" she asked, grin slipping and replaced with confused irritation.
"I can't get at your arm," he explained languidly, "So the clothes come off. I also have to check the cut on your leg. It looks shallow but could become infected. You can keep your underwear on if that's what you're worried about." Keitha seemed much less amused but compliant. "Turn around," the doctor told Smoker after the lieutenant flicked a glance in his direction.
The captain stubbornly set his jaw not at the request itself but because it was ordered and he refused to be ordered around on his own base. "She's young enough to be my daughter," Smoker objected.
The doctor snorted, "Only if you had a kid when you were thirteen. Now turn around." He made a finger whirling motion and grinding his cigars Smoker turned around, ignoring the smirk on Keitha's face. "And put out those cigars!" the doctor snapped crankily. Smoker, of course, ignored him.
Smoker noted with a cocky grin that he could still catch Keitha's reflection in the windows viewing the dark and empty courtyard outside. He watched the reflection as she stripped down to blue panties but started to turn around with concern when she started taking the shirt off yelping, "Ow ow ow ow ow ow." The doctor smacked the side of his face that was turning to face the lieutenant with a small stick and despite the irritation it caused, Smoker turned back around.
"It's not broke so you should be able to move it just fine," the doctor told her unmoved by her plight. She bared her teeth and shot him a venomous look when suddenly the doctor sprang off his chair ordering, "Hold it!"
Eager to stop moving the arm, Keitha froze in place, looking down at the cut, her free arm already sleeveless and half of shirt up.
The doctor peered at the cut closely and grabbing a pair of tweezers, jabbed into the cut. Keitha grit her teeth, clenching the cot tight in her free hand. "Ahhh sneaky little bugger," the doctor murmured pulling out a small sliver of steel.
"What's that?" Keitha asked, Smoker almost turning around to look but refraining with a grumpy chomp to his cigars.
"What'd you get cut with?" the doctor frowned.
"A sword," Keitha replied simply.
The doctor snorted, "This is why most people sharpen their swords."
"Seems like an advantage over the enemy to me," Keitha grunted, removing the rest of her dripping wet shirt.
"Hardly," the doctor replied wryly, "You let a sword get to the point where it has enough nicks to leave slivers behind and it'll break on you. Not to mention be dull as hell."
Keitha being both a swordswoman and having a swordsmith for a father, was well aware of this but merely replied with an, "Oh."
"Of course, you already knew that what with a swordsmith for a father, didn't you?" the doctor tapped her on the nose with a stethoscope.
The lieutenant blinked in surprise pouting. "Awww you told!" Keitha accused of Smoker.
Back still turned to her, Smoker shook his head. "Not me but it's..."
"In my file, yeah I know," she scowled. "One of these days I'm going to get around to reading that thing you know."
"Hold still," the doctor instructed, "I'm going to have to stich this up."
He must have caught something about Smoker's mocking leer or been just plain paranoid because he suddenly wrapped the curtain around the two of them, cutting off Smoker's view; reflected or otherwise. Smoker sighed and sat down in one of the chairs. He wanted to get out of the wet pants and worse still, wet socks; but he couldn't leave until he was completely certain she was fine.
Smoker didn't even realize he was a chewing a thumbnail irritably (even with the cigars in his mouth) but he told himself he wasn't that worried about her. Just the same level he'd have been worried about any of the men in his command. It was mostly true. Smoker always checked in on vicious wounds; however they came about and fretted every time Tashigi did something stupid to get herself hurt again. Still, Keitha had scared him more than he was willing to admit.
When he'd seen her go limp from being choked, he'd felt his blood drain and he'd almost panicked when she didn't instantly start breathing again. Smoker wasn't a man who was scared often; or even ever really, so he didn't take kindly to be scared over a half-wit like her. At least part of his anger at her was because of how worried he'd been. Still, it was more or less the kind of reaction he'd have if Tashigi had done the same thing.
The captain was startled when he heard Keitha giggling. "Quit it," she laughed, "That tickles."
"What this?" the doctor asked, doing something that made her giggle even more.
"Tehehe, cut it out," she giggled some more.
Smoker arched an eyebrow, "You're ticklish?"
"Like you don't know," Keitha grumbled under her breath.
"How old are you?!" Smoker demanded in mock irritation over her childish attributes.
"Twenty," she replied dryly.
Arching an eyebrow again Smoker retorted, "I'm pretty sure you're nineteen."
"Eh," Keitha countered, "My birthday's coming up. In November."
Smoker sensed a lie and tried to think back to her file as he protested, "That's not even close to 'coming up.'"
"But my brother's is in March," she continued sounding thoroughly amused with herself.
"Except you're twins," Smoker objected.
Keitha giggled, this time not from being tickled, "I know. That's the joke."
Smoker rolled his eyes.
"Taisa, would you go get her a dry uniform," the doctor requested. "I don't want her wet clothes touching the wounds I just cleaned and running the risk of infecting them."
The marine captain grumbled about her getting to be in dryer clothes before him but got up to go to the closet where spare uniforms were kept for just such occasions. Smoker couldn't seem to remember her size. As far as he was concerned she was tiny, but so was Tashigi and didn't one of them once say they were different sizes? If he handed her something too big he suspected she'd be annoyed that he thought she was fat (or some such nonsense) but too small and he'd have to get up again.
Grabbing a set of mediums (good enough either way) Smoker was about to enter the curtained off area when the doctor popped out, took the clothes, and ducked back in, insinuating that under no uncertain terms was the captain allowed to peek. He wanted to throw his hands up in frustration. He'd seen her naked dozens of times -- all at her behest, yet now he wasn't even allowed to see her in underwear? Whatever, it didn't even bug him that much, it was just the contradiction of it all. That, and because he hated being banned from anything just on principle.
"Okay," the doctor said, "I cleaned up the cut on your cut and put a small bandage on it and the wound on your arm is going to take a while to heal so try to be gentle to it." He lowered his voice to an irritated grumble, "If you can." Smoker assuming this meant she was done stood up to go but sat back down when the doctor continued, "Now open your mouth, I need to get a look at your throat."
The White Hunter was definitely getting impatient. Wet jeans were so damn uncomfortable. He was glad he rolled the cuffs up so they didn't splash in the puddles but in a virtual typhoon like today's storm (it continued pouring, almost flooding the courtyard Smoker noticed with a glance out the window at the dark gray and heavy winds) it didn't keep the rest of his jeans safe. Maybe if he'd been in smoke form but it was too risky in the high winds.
"It looks fine," the doctor stated brusquely, "It'll hurt to talk and swallow for a while but it'll clear up on it's own."
"Thank-you, Doctor Tanes," Keitha saluted.
"Whatever," the doctor replied grumpily as Keitha pushed aside the curtain, flouncing out. The clothes were definitely baggy on her (it seemed she was as tiny as he first thought after all) but she didn't seem to mind, although she looked in danger of tripping over the too-long pant legs. She blinked at seeing him standing there waiting.
"Awww," she practically purred with delight, "You didn't have to wait for me."
"He does that for everyone," the doctor informed her as he the man put away several instruments.
Keitha pouted a little but quickly recovered, picking up her boots instead of putting them back on (Smoker didn't know why she didn't put them back on, they were leather and couldn't be that wet) and prancing out into the hall.
"You need anything?" the doctor asked with a wary look at the tall marine captain.
"Nope," Smoker shook his head, exiting the office and attempting to leave the doctor to himself but was stopped short.
"Next time you decide to abuse yourself with seastone, it better not be with her. At least not for a couple of weeks," the doctor glared at him.
"Right," Smoker ran a hand through his spikey hair, suddenly wishing he hadn't mentioned their fencing session to the doctor when he'd needed to have a cut Keitha didn't know about examined due to its seastone nature, "Because of her arm."
The doctor snorted. "That and she's got bruises from here to..."
Smoker frowned, he didn't remember hurting her. Maybe some of them were from her fight that afternoon.
"At least be less rough with her," the doctor glowered.
"I'll try to be more gentle," Smoker noted though thinking to himself, Even if she does like it rough.
Keitha was waiting for him out in the hall, feet covered by layers of too-long pants and arms folded across her chest, one hand dangling her boots by their strings. "I thought you wanted it to be a secret," she said accusingly with a small pout when he closed the door behind him.
"I do, I had to to have him look at something," Smoker shrugged taking off towards his office.
Keitha frowned, "Something I did?"
Another shrug. "It was minor."
Keitha blinked in surprise, "I didn't even know I touched you."
Smoker arched an eyebrow, "Yeah and what about you? Hiding bruises?"
Keitha snorted, "Hardly. Most of them aren't even from you."
"But some are..." Smoker chewed his cigars mad at himself.
The lieutenant rolled her eyes, "I do worse to myself on a daily basis. And I know Tashigi does too."
Glowering in silence, Smoker continued his trek down the halls.
"And don't go deciding not to spar with me anymore," Keitha said turning into an angry thunderstorm, "Because if I have to challenge you and pester you and drive you up the wall until you're mad enough to hit back I will."
Smoker shook his head. She was definitely insane. Be gentler to her? Dealing with Keitha was like wrestling an alligator that was all too eager to latch itself onto his leg to take him for a spin. No one was in the hall but Smoker surprised himself by asking, "Where are you going?" when Keitha stops at her own room.
She grinned immediately over his actually expecting her to go to his room instead and answered, "I have to pick up some paper for that one-thousand word essay, remember?"
"Oh," Smoker muttered, trying to pretend that he wasn't expecting her to follow him.
"Don't worry Taisa," Keitha continued in a much lower voice, "I'll be there in a little bit, aggravating you like always."
That thought should irritate him more than it did.
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: Pirate Hunting Part 2
Rating: PG-13 for language and references to violence
Keitha ran through the streets of Loguetown. She wasn't lost, she just didn't know where she was going. But since she knew how to get there so she decided that meant she wasn't lost. Occasionally the clouds dropped fat drops on her head, threatening to downpour much more. She looked up with annoyance but the rain seemed to want to wait until it had caught full momentum so it could really drown people out.
The city's winding streets took her down several more bends and for a moment Keitha almost regretted her choice of the two options. She still suspected that she'd find the pirates on the backroads; her instincts told her so, but maybe if Smoker had been the one looking he could just jump from rooftop to rooftop. Keitha was half-tempted to go try it herself but one quick measurement from one roof to another (15 steps) made her quickly change her mind as she realized the horrible red splat she'd make on grey cobblestone.
Hearing voices around another corner, the spy planted herself flat against a wall. It was probably just civilians getting shopping done but most Loguetown residents had enough sense to get indoors before it started to pour cats and dogs. Cocking her ear slightly she listened, trying to distinguish voices. She could make out that they were male but nothing beyond that. Sighing, the red-head peeked around the building, she was going to have to get closer if she wanted to hear anything and it probably wasn't even her prey at all. Probably just some workmen trying to finish move boxes before the rain hit.
The darky alley was deserted, the voices coming from another street over. Keitha skittered across cobblestones trying to move as quietly as possible before once again pressing up against grimy apartment buildings. She inched foward, closer to the sounds until she was satisfactorily close.
"Last set of boxes, oyabun," a voice sprang through the air.
"Great, just set them over there. We should try to get them inside before the rain hits," the boss replied.
Keitha sighed; it was just workmen after all like she'd suspected. She was about to move on, maybe walk past them, but a heavy set of footprints came running up to them.
"Boss! Boss!" another man yelled out of breath.
"What is it this time?" the boss asked sounding irritated but concerned.
"Davies!" the new voice replied sounding frantic.
The lieutenant perked at this; wasn't that the name of the skeptical tough guy in the crew? She really had to get around to memorizing roster files from the folders one of these days.
"Shit," one of the pirates swore.
Sounding as if his mouth ran dry the captain asked worriedly, "What happened?"
"White Hunter came and some red-haired chick -- took out the whole squad," the pirate replied out of breath.
Ther was more swearing and the captain asked, "Did they take them back to the base yet?" Keitha didn't catch the answer, it must have been a nod either way. "Spread out, see if you can find them and get away. Leave the boxes for now, they'll just slow us down. Havier, you check on the ship..."
Keitha waltzed onto the street, holding the Benton dangerously low, the green almost radiating in the low mist that started to fall before the rain. "No need," she grinned mischeviously here, "You can join your pals soon enough I'm sure."
The spy had been frequently told that she showed a daft lack of common sense, that she was going to get herself killed from rushing into danger and that there were six men there instead of three like she'd originally though did give her some pause. She liked to train against three or four men at a time but she'd never tried six at once and the last time she'd been up against four she'd almost gotten killed. Still, maybe they'd be more frightened and run.
No such luck (even with Benton's help) as the men all darted in for the attack. There was no preamble on their part, no "How dare you take my shipmates?!" no "You'll pay for this!" just blades swinging at her head and arms -- but that was how Keitha liked it. She parried off the blades, swearing lightly as one pulled a gun out of his waistband but the lieutenant ducked just in time for the bullet to go into the concrete wall behind her. Managing to get her cuffs on one (none of them were devil fruit users so she just used the extras she'd brought), she paid for the chancey behavior with a cut to her cheek and another to leg. Keitha kicked back one of the pirates, slamming him into the wall with a sharp crack but had to roll to avoid two more swords crashing down on her.
The pirates' swords hit each other's swords instead, giving her time to get away but she got kicked in the stomach by Blue-cheeks. Grunting from losing her wind, she stood up just in time to block the sword swiping for her throat. She took a step back, which forced her up against the wall and the other two pirates recovered from hitting her, adding their blades to the one she already had to fend off. Blue-cheeks was grinning cockily, clearly he thought he had the upper hand but Keitha fought best on the defensive.
Using frequent flicks of her wrist she kept the pirates at bay, even being brash enough to swipe at knee-caps. The action made one of them jump back but the one that she'd kicked into the wall earlier sprang back into action trying to literally tackle her. She dodged the pounce but in order to move away, the captain was able to slash at her hands. The Benton's finger guard easily protected her hand but the force when he hit the Benton made it slip down enough that one of the other swords stabbed her upper arm. Seeing his chance, Blue-Cheeks knocked the sword away, grabbing the marine around the neck to choke her.
Keitha felt herself being lifted by the throat, another hand closing in on her neck and kicked feebly, her vision going black as she struggled to breathe.
***
Smoker watched as the red-headed marine slid around the building, darting into the next alley. He shook his head puffing on smoke. The marine captain had no idea what the idiot was up to now. "Probably playing at being a spy," he rolled his eyes thinking to himself. He tailed her discreetly, hoping she didn't notice. He could do without the fight about him intruding on her turf.
The White Hunter had already checked the docks and repair shops, he'd found their ship easily enough and arrested the two pirates guarding it but their captain Blue-cheeks remained missing. He'd been hoping Keitha had found them but it appeared otherwise. Well, Loguetown was a big city and she could probably use the help whether she'd accept it or not. If Smoker was counting right there should be six pirates left of the twenty-two men crew, but admittedly, math wasn't his strong point.
Sneaking closer to the lieutenant, his ears perked at the sounds of men talking. He'd always been proud of his good hearing but it seemed Keitha was trying to observe the speakers. Was she spying on innocent civilians or had she actually found the remaining pirates finally? Attempting to get closer (though he could already hear the voices just fine) Smoker watched as the idiot went dashing out from her hiding spot to where the men were waiting.
"That idiot!" Smoker mentally roared, "She really doesn't think before she acts, does she?!" He chased after her, tearing around the corners and wincing at the sound of a gun going off. If she got hurt... it'd be her own damn fault, but he'd definitely have to kill her for it. Almost skidding around the corner, Smoker observed that the blockhead was trying to face down six pirates all on her own. While it was the sort of thing Tashigi also would have done at least that particular ditz had the forethought to get help before she recklessly dashed off, this was just insane. Did the spy even realize that there would be six of them or had she thought it was just the captain and one or two others? Even that was bad enough but this was... stupid.
Smoker slammed his fist into one of the pirates trying to reload his gun, knocking the man to the ground, unconcious. He tore one of the swordsmen away from her, throwing the man into a brick building several feet away and growled as he watched Keitha being choked, her kicking ceasing and beginning to go limp. Settling for both punching Blue-cheeks in the face (it wasn't hard to tell the captain apart; his sideburns had a definite blue twinge) and kneeing him in the stomach, Smoker smashed the others out of his way as well. Glancing down at the red-head coughing (she must be concious at least), he finished the job of tying up the men, slamming them all in handcuffs just to make sure, and finally bent down to check on the lieutenant.
Still coughing, she put her left hand up to her right arm, trying to cover up a much-too large cut. Grinding his cigars furiously, Smoker swore as he tried to find something for a makeshift bandage. "It's nothing," Keitha waved off his intentions, "I'm fine."
Smoker growled louder. He was completely furious with her. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been expecting her to do and instead of proving herself to be level-headed enough to act with the responsibility required of a marine office, she went off and pulled stupid shit like this. "What do you think you were doing?!" he demanded furiously.
"I don't want them to get away," Keitha's brow furrowed.
"You would have been killed," Smoker glared at her clearly livid.
The lieutenant actually had the gall to act annoyed, "But I'm not," she replied, rubbing her throat where a rather large purple welt was fast developing, "So get off it."
Smoker's jaw twitched with rage, "Lieutenant!" he roared, taking out his anger by smacking a pirate trying to sneak up on him into the wall with an extended smokey fist. Did one of them get free of their ropes or was it a seventh member he'd missed? "No stupid stunts, remember?" Keitha nodded. "Well what exactly do you call this?!"
Keitha's eyes burned with outraged indignation as she got to her feet. "I had things under control," she replied clearly ignoring the fact that she was being choked to death, overwhelmed by numbers and in danger of dying and it was only pure luck that Smoker had been there to save her at all.
Smoker's gloved fists clenched and unclenched with rage. "No," he growled with quiet wrath, "You didn't." He slammed a fist into the wall behind her taking note of the bullet hole, only adding to his fury. He ticked off a list on his fingers, "No one knew where you were, you didn't call for backup, you didn't even try to lead them to a better place, running recklessly right into where they had the advantage by knowing the layout and even when it was clear you were outnumbered, you didn't even try to get away. That is not having the situation in control."
The red-head twitched her jaw, mad that he was mad but actually listening and considering, and saying nothing for once.
"It's not a weakness," Smoker growled furiously, "To seek help when you need it. It IS one to let your goddam stupid pride lead you into situations that you can't handle." Keitha opened her mouth indignantly but Smoker over-rode her like a tidal wave. "You COULD have handled them, if you'd thought it through and led them somewhere better suited to you. Instead you walked right into what could have been an ambush."
The lieutenant took a deep breath, defiantly glaring him back in the eye but suddenly sighed and acknowledged, "I'm sorry."
Smoker snorted. Not good enough. She was going to do the same stupid move again. Smoker reached out a smokey arm once more to wrap up the pirate in tighter ropes, ignoring the rest of the pirates who were fidgeting, also attempting to escape and sulking at not being the center of attention. "Maybe you've forgotten," the marine captain reminded her acidicly, "But you were sent here for training. If you're going to take off like a two-year-old or you want the responsibility to have people trust you can handle being off of apron-strings then you'd better start thinking things through more!"
Her chest puffed up again, Keitha was eying him with angry resentment but Smoker didn't care.
"I've never lost a man in my command and I'm not about to start with you," he informed her frostily.
To his surprise, her face softened and looking down at the ground she murmured softly, "I'm sorry Taisa. I... You're right. I was so caught up in trying to prove myself I didn't think it through as much as I should have."
He arched an eyebrow at her confession; pleased but unwilling to show it. "And you'll do better next time?" he thundered, only just then beginning to realize his voice was echoing off the walls.
Keitha nodded hollowly. Smoker still wanted to put her on disciplinary action but she seemed to genuinely be absorbing his lecture. Maybe this was an advantage from allowing her to get close to him, he'd have to make note of it for the future. Grinding teeth on cigars, Smoker scanned her up and down taking in her wounds. The cheek and leg cut were superficial -- she'd gotten worse sparring with Tashigi dozens of times but her right arm looked immobile and her voice sounded hoarse. It might have been hoarse because she was upset, or maybe it was from being choked.
Leaning his head against hers he growled still furious as hell, "You idiot." She looked a little confused at his display of rage and almost (though not quite) affection. "No spy has ever died in their final combat training portion. Don't make me be the first one to have to explain what happened and find out what happens to the captain that allowed such a stupid thing to happen."
The spy laughed weakly in response, moving a hand (and wincing at the pain it brought even though she tried to hide it and switched to the other one) up to his face. "We prefer to be called intelligence gathering specialist officers," she said half-heartedly but still with a small smile.
Tearing himself away from her Smoker glacnced back at the fidgeting pirates, who still seemed irritated that Keitha and Smoker had been ignoring them to deal with what they considered bigger matters. Smoker supposed it probably was galling to be considered a pesky matter, one not worth that much attention. He'd probably be irritated if pirates did that to him. One of the pirates had been trying to cut his ropes on a rock but it wasn't working well and Smoker yanked the boy to his feet. Tallying them up, Smoker found 7 there and frowning to himself, the marine mentally recounted. 14 + 2 + 6 = 22. "Seems there's one that intelligence," he said the title sarcastically to irritate Keitha even though he was well aware she called herself a spy, "Completely missed."
Keitha jerked herself out of her own contemplations to look around Smoker at the pirates.
"Wait," she frowned counting in her head, "There's seven but there should be twenty-two so doesn't that mean we're actually missing one?"
"I caught two guarding their ship," Smoker explained as he yanked the pirates to their feet. The captain twitched at this, perhaps upset that they hadn't gotten away or wouldn't be able to help save him either.
"Oh," Keitha frowned, "So who's the extra?"
"Probably someone they picked up recently," Smoker shrugged half-leading, half-dragging the priates to where he'd brought the others to Tashigi. He purposely talked about the pirates as if they were too dumb to understand him mostly because it irritated them. It might have been a childish way to look at things but as far as Smoker was concerned if he had to be irritated, so did they.
The red-headed spy tailed along quietly, Smoker hoped because she was recognizing what she did wrong and how she could fix it for the future, not because her throat was too sore to speak but he was willing to take the silence either way. For all the fury he'd directed at her, he was almost just as mad at himself. He'd known he shouldn't let her go off alone but he'd let himself be talked into it, forgetting that while she could be competent she was also moronically brash.
The clouds finally did what they'd been threatening to all afternoon and it started to pour as if someone finally kicked the last straw holding a dam together. Smoker sighed, it was hard to keep cigars lit in a torrential downpour, and it wasn't any easier with the wind as bad as it was. Much to the captain's amusement however, Keitha actually seemed to welcome the flooding rains, perking up slightly and even gaining back some of the dance-like bounce to her step.
"Hullo, Tashigi," Keitha greeted more somberly as they reached the marine girl shielding her eyes with a lavender gloved hand.
The dark-haired woman's eye went wide as she saw the deep gash in Keitha's arms. She rushed over, filled with concern, demanding, "What happened?!"
Keitha's eyes flicked up to Smoker who was giving instructions to the other marines on what to do with the prisoners, the marines hopping about more quickly than usual in their eagerness to get out of the rain. "I was being stupid," she grinned meekly.
Smoker snorted, he wasn't sure if she was just being honest or trying to lesson the inevitable punishment she suspected would follow.
"Had a bit of a run-in with swords," she coughed, her throat burning from attempting to be used.
Oh yes, Smoker was only too aware that she was lucky to be alive. Damned if she didn't have uncanny amounts of pure luck. Maybe because of that devil fruit sword from her father or maybe the gods occasionally smiled down at her.
Tashigi tsked and fretted over trying to make a bandage knot that really just made Keitha's arm feel worse if the paling and grunts of pain were any indication and the lieutenant responded trying to sound casual, "I'll just see the Doctor when we get back, no worries. Don't fret so much."
Smoker growled to himself in irritation. Both his cigars went out again with another sudden whip of wind and Keitha's habit of trying to make light about far more serious things was irritating him. He decided he'd have to punish her after all, if only so that the gravity of the situation was honed in. He couldn't exactly punish her for getting hurt and some of his men had admittedly taken worse in scuffles with pirates but still, he clearly had to do something.
They trudged back to the fort, wet and soaked to the bone. Smoker growing increasingly grumpy with the rain; jeans were certainly more comfortable than the stupid marine uniform pants normally but they were a lot less fun when wet. And the leather repelled water but the fur retained it a little too much. Many of the marines actually marched back to base. Smoker hadn't given the order but he was glad to see they were in formation as if it was more natural than walking regularly. Keitha marched straight ahead but every so often when she thought no one was looking she'd give a woozy swoop, hand to arm even while trying to pretend she felt no pain.
Grinding his cigars, this was another thing that irritated Smoker. Each time she did it, he thought she was about to fall over and instinctively wanted to to catch her. He ghosted her with light smokey touches several times, urging her foward and ready to carry her when... if she fell. He couldn't tell if she noticed, she never outwardly reacted but every so often, her face would set with grim determination as she steeled herself walking on. It made him almost want to smack her. Had she completely missed the part about it wasn't a weakness to acknowledge help when she needed it; however it was a weakness to go on recklessly avoiding help for the sake of her stupid pride? But maybe she didn't really need help, maybe his gentle prodding just gave her the encouragement she needed. Maybe. It was hard to tell with Keitha and that frustrated him.
Once inside the compound, the marines shook themselves of the wetness, some escorting the prisoners to the cells below to await transfer or trial and others going about their duties. "Keitha," Tashigi gently reminded as the red-head stood in the hallway looking dazed and running a hand through soaking wet red hair, "Go to the doctor."
"Right," Keitha nodded before blinking and sheepishly admitting, "I um... don't know the way."
Smoker sighed, "I'll show her, Sargeant Major. Lieutenant: come." The red-head seemed rankled at being treated like a dog but followed nevertheless. "A thousand words," Smoker remarked when they were out of earshot of others.
The lieutenant shook herself as if she worried she'd missed the first half of his sentence. "What?" she asked in startled confusion.
"I want a thousand words on what you did wrong today and how to do better next time," Smoker explained. Seeing the blank look on her face he added, "That's your punishment." It was a common academy punishment -- especially for spies so she should at least be familiar with it.
An almost pleased, cocky grin settled on her face before she warily dashed it away (too late though, Smoker had already noticed. She really was terrible at hiding her emotions) trying to replace it with a more sullen expression. Smoker only then remembered that she was a writer, 1000 words probably meant nothing to her. He sighed, maybe he should have made it 5000 but he just didn't want to read that much of her rambling. Pushing the door to the infimary open, he nudged her inside with a strong hand on the middle of her back.
"Oi, doctor," Smoker called.
"Yeah?" the doctor called back from behind a screen, "Been in any more seastone fights?" He grumbled something he probably thought no one else could hear but Smoker caught every added word. "You damned idiot."
Smoker rolled his eyes answering, "No, it's the lieutenant. Get out here."
The man rolled out on a wheely chair turned backwards and lowered a pair of reading glasses to inspect the wound. "What'd you do to her?" the doctor demanded accusingly, glaring at Smoker.
The marine captain twitched, "Not me, pirates -- you freaking crackpot."
Keitha grinned with amusement over the interactions but winced as the doctor set her down on the sterile white cot and began applyng disinfectant.
"What's wrong girl?" the doctor asked sounding almost as sour and grumpy as Smoker.
"It stings," she admitted.
"Toughen up," he replied apathetically.
The lieutenant looked up at Smoker, "I can see why you get along so well." To her knowledge Smoker had three main friends on base: Tashigi, the doctor, and the third she counted as herself though she sometimes doubted that her captain would. But then maybe he counted himself as having more friends than she thought. Two noncomittal grunts came back at her, the doctor and captain sharing mixed expressions of annoyance with each other. Keitha fell into peals of laughter, "You're not related are you?"
"To him?!" they both objected at the same time, Keitha responding with even more laughter at this.
"No," Smoker said curtly.
"I'd kill myself if I had a brat like him for family," the doctor grumbled, wheeling over to get some tools.
Keitha grinned with pure delighted amusement. "A brat, huh?" she looked up at the tall man towering over her, "I'll have to remember that one. . ."
Smoker arched an eyebrow coolly trying to head off whatever psychotic idea was bubbling in her head but she just grinned up at him impishly.
The grin disappeared when the doctor told her indifferently, "Take your clothes off."
"What?" she asked, grin slipping and replaced with confused irritation.
"I can't get at your arm," he explained languidly, "So the clothes come off. I also have to check the cut on your leg. It looks shallow but could become infected. You can keep your underwear on if that's what you're worried about." Keitha seemed much less amused but compliant. "Turn around," the doctor told Smoker after the lieutenant flicked a glance in his direction.
The captain stubbornly set his jaw not at the request itself but because it was ordered and he refused to be ordered around on his own base. "She's young enough to be my daughter," Smoker objected.
The doctor snorted, "Only if you had a kid when you were thirteen. Now turn around." He made a finger whirling motion and grinding his cigars Smoker turned around, ignoring the smirk on Keitha's face. "And put out those cigars!" the doctor snapped crankily. Smoker, of course, ignored him.
Smoker noted with a cocky grin that he could still catch Keitha's reflection in the windows viewing the dark and empty courtyard outside. He watched the reflection as she stripped down to blue panties but started to turn around with concern when she started taking the shirt off yelping, "Ow ow ow ow ow ow." The doctor smacked the side of his face that was turning to face the lieutenant with a small stick and despite the irritation it caused, Smoker turned back around.
"It's not broke so you should be able to move it just fine," the doctor told her unmoved by her plight. She bared her teeth and shot him a venomous look when suddenly the doctor sprang off his chair ordering, "Hold it!"
Eager to stop moving the arm, Keitha froze in place, looking down at the cut, her free arm already sleeveless and half of shirt up.
The doctor peered at the cut closely and grabbing a pair of tweezers, jabbed into the cut. Keitha grit her teeth, clenching the cot tight in her free hand. "Ahhh sneaky little bugger," the doctor murmured pulling out a small sliver of steel.
"What's that?" Keitha asked, Smoker almost turning around to look but refraining with a grumpy chomp to his cigars.
"What'd you get cut with?" the doctor frowned.
"A sword," Keitha replied simply.
The doctor snorted, "This is why most people sharpen their swords."
"Seems like an advantage over the enemy to me," Keitha grunted, removing the rest of her dripping wet shirt.
"Hardly," the doctor replied wryly, "You let a sword get to the point where it has enough nicks to leave slivers behind and it'll break on you. Not to mention be dull as hell."
Keitha being both a swordswoman and having a swordsmith for a father, was well aware of this but merely replied with an, "Oh."
"Of course, you already knew that what with a swordsmith for a father, didn't you?" the doctor tapped her on the nose with a stethoscope.
The lieutenant blinked in surprise pouting. "Awww you told!" Keitha accused of Smoker.
Back still turned to her, Smoker shook his head. "Not me but it's..."
"In my file, yeah I know," she scowled. "One of these days I'm going to get around to reading that thing you know."
"Hold still," the doctor instructed, "I'm going to have to stich this up."
He must have caught something about Smoker's mocking leer or been just plain paranoid because he suddenly wrapped the curtain around the two of them, cutting off Smoker's view; reflected or otherwise. Smoker sighed and sat down in one of the chairs. He wanted to get out of the wet pants and worse still, wet socks; but he couldn't leave until he was completely certain she was fine.
Smoker didn't even realize he was a chewing a thumbnail irritably (even with the cigars in his mouth) but he told himself he wasn't that worried about her. Just the same level he'd have been worried about any of the men in his command. It was mostly true. Smoker always checked in on vicious wounds; however they came about and fretted every time Tashigi did something stupid to get herself hurt again. Still, Keitha had scared him more than he was willing to admit.
When he'd seen her go limp from being choked, he'd felt his blood drain and he'd almost panicked when she didn't instantly start breathing again. Smoker wasn't a man who was scared often; or even ever really, so he didn't take kindly to be scared over a half-wit like her. At least part of his anger at her was because of how worried he'd been. Still, it was more or less the kind of reaction he'd have if Tashigi had done the same thing.
The captain was startled when he heard Keitha giggling. "Quit it," she laughed, "That tickles."
"What this?" the doctor asked, doing something that made her giggle even more.
"Tehehe, cut it out," she giggled some more.
Smoker arched an eyebrow, "You're ticklish?"
"Like you don't know," Keitha grumbled under her breath.
"How old are you?!" Smoker demanded in mock irritation over her childish attributes.
"Twenty," she replied dryly.
Arching an eyebrow again Smoker retorted, "I'm pretty sure you're nineteen."
"Eh," Keitha countered, "My birthday's coming up. In November."
Smoker sensed a lie and tried to think back to her file as he protested, "That's not even close to 'coming up.'"
"But my brother's is in March," she continued sounding thoroughly amused with herself.
"Except you're twins," Smoker objected.
Keitha giggled, this time not from being tickled, "I know. That's the joke."
Smoker rolled his eyes.
"Taisa, would you go get her a dry uniform," the doctor requested. "I don't want her wet clothes touching the wounds I just cleaned and running the risk of infecting them."
The marine captain grumbled about her getting to be in dryer clothes before him but got up to go to the closet where spare uniforms were kept for just such occasions. Smoker couldn't seem to remember her size. As far as he was concerned she was tiny, but so was Tashigi and didn't one of them once say they were different sizes? If he handed her something too big he suspected she'd be annoyed that he thought she was fat (or some such nonsense) but too small and he'd have to get up again.
Grabbing a set of mediums (good enough either way) Smoker was about to enter the curtained off area when the doctor popped out, took the clothes, and ducked back in, insinuating that under no uncertain terms was the captain allowed to peek. He wanted to throw his hands up in frustration. He'd seen her naked dozens of times -- all at her behest, yet now he wasn't even allowed to see her in underwear? Whatever, it didn't even bug him that much, it was just the contradiction of it all. That, and because he hated being banned from anything just on principle.
"Okay," the doctor said, "I cleaned up the cut on your cut and put a small bandage on it and the wound on your arm is going to take a while to heal so try to be gentle to it." He lowered his voice to an irritated grumble, "If you can." Smoker assuming this meant she was done stood up to go but sat back down when the doctor continued, "Now open your mouth, I need to get a look at your throat."
The White Hunter was definitely getting impatient. Wet jeans were so damn uncomfortable. He was glad he rolled the cuffs up so they didn't splash in the puddles but in a virtual typhoon like today's storm (it continued pouring, almost flooding the courtyard Smoker noticed with a glance out the window at the dark gray and heavy winds) it didn't keep the rest of his jeans safe. Maybe if he'd been in smoke form but it was too risky in the high winds.
"It looks fine," the doctor stated brusquely, "It'll hurt to talk and swallow for a while but it'll clear up on it's own."
"Thank-you, Doctor Tanes," Keitha saluted.
"Whatever," the doctor replied grumpily as Keitha pushed aside the curtain, flouncing out. The clothes were definitely baggy on her (it seemed she was as tiny as he first thought after all) but she didn't seem to mind, although she looked in danger of tripping over the too-long pant legs. She blinked at seeing him standing there waiting.
"Awww," she practically purred with delight, "You didn't have to wait for me."
"He does that for everyone," the doctor informed her as he the man put away several instruments.
Keitha pouted a little but quickly recovered, picking up her boots instead of putting them back on (Smoker didn't know why she didn't put them back on, they were leather and couldn't be that wet) and prancing out into the hall.
"You need anything?" the doctor asked with a wary look at the tall marine captain.
"Nope," Smoker shook his head, exiting the office and attempting to leave the doctor to himself but was stopped short.
"Next time you decide to abuse yourself with seastone, it better not be with her. At least not for a couple of weeks," the doctor glared at him.
"Right," Smoker ran a hand through his spikey hair, suddenly wishing he hadn't mentioned their fencing session to the doctor when he'd needed to have a cut Keitha didn't know about examined due to its seastone nature, "Because of her arm."
The doctor snorted. "That and she's got bruises from here to..."
Smoker frowned, he didn't remember hurting her. Maybe some of them were from her fight that afternoon.
"At least be less rough with her," the doctor glowered.
"I'll try to be more gentle," Smoker noted though thinking to himself, Even if she does like it rough.
Keitha was waiting for him out in the hall, feet covered by layers of too-long pants and arms folded across her chest, one hand dangling her boots by their strings. "I thought you wanted it to be a secret," she said accusingly with a small pout when he closed the door behind him.
"I do, I had to to have him look at something," Smoker shrugged taking off towards his office.
Keitha frowned, "Something I did?"
Another shrug. "It was minor."
Keitha blinked in surprise, "I didn't even know I touched you."
Smoker arched an eyebrow, "Yeah and what about you? Hiding bruises?"
Keitha snorted, "Hardly. Most of them aren't even from you."
"But some are..." Smoker chewed his cigars mad at himself.
The lieutenant rolled her eyes, "I do worse to myself on a daily basis. And I know Tashigi does too."
Glowering in silence, Smoker continued his trek down the halls.
"And don't go deciding not to spar with me anymore," Keitha said turning into an angry thunderstorm, "Because if I have to challenge you and pester you and drive you up the wall until you're mad enough to hit back I will."
Smoker shook his head. She was definitely insane. Be gentler to her? Dealing with Keitha was like wrestling an alligator that was all too eager to latch itself onto his leg to take him for a spin. No one was in the hall but Smoker surprised himself by asking, "Where are you going?" when Keitha stops at her own room.
She grinned immediately over his actually expecting her to go to his room instead and answered, "I have to pick up some paper for that one-thousand word essay, remember?"
"Oh," Smoker muttered, trying to pretend that he wasn't expecting her to follow him.
"Don't worry Taisa," Keitha continued in a much lower voice, "I'll be there in a little bit, aggravating you like always."
That thought should irritate him more than it did.