Fic: Sunglasses, Chapter 3
Title: Sunglasses
Overall Rating: Worksafe, if nothing else. So far there's a bit of swearing from Garp but nothing really naughty.
Word Count: Looooong.
Pairing: CobyMeppo <3
Summary: When Coby is promoted ahead of Helmeppo in the Navy, Helmeppo's reaction is strong to say the least. Is it envy...or something more?
Notes: I've been unable to find much information on the man in the raincoat who assists Garp, so I'm guessing on the name Bogart. I suspect the lack of info means he's going to end up being majorly important somewhere in the series (either that or I'm too lazy to research properly) so just wait, Oda will probably give his life story and completely pwn everything I've written....
hinas_otaku thinks he should be called Kyo rather than Bogart, as in "roushutsu kyo", the Japanese for "flasher" or "streaker". Maybe flashing is a very British sport but Bogart does look like some kind of a pervert at times... XD
Overall Rating: Worksafe, if nothing else. So far there's a bit of swearing from Garp but nothing really naughty.
Word Count: Looooong.
Pairing: CobyMeppo <3
Summary: When Coby is promoted ahead of Helmeppo in the Navy, Helmeppo's reaction is strong to say the least. Is it envy...or something more?
Notes: I've been unable to find much information on the man in the raincoat who assists Garp, so I'm guessing on the name Bogart. I suspect the lack of info means he's going to end up being majorly important somewhere in the series (either that or I'm too lazy to research properly) so just wait, Oda will probably give his life story and completely pwn everything I've written....
hinas_otaku thinks he should be called Kyo rather than Bogart, as in "roushutsu kyo", the Japanese for "flasher" or "streaker". Maybe flashing is a very British sport but Bogart does look like some kind of a pervert at times... XDDarkness hadn’t so much fallen as much as tripped clumsily and come toppling down over the navy base that night. Clouds sat stubbornly over the midnight sky, dropping heavy rain appearing as continuous dotted lines under the floodlights. Had this been an otherwise clear night, a short figure dressed solely in black would have been seen slinking around the complex, limbs splayed out and hugging its buildings like a spider. Face obscured by a black balaclava, anyone watching could have been forgiven for believing that a hardened terrorist was out on the prowl. But they couldn’t have been further from the truth. Underneath it was a damp and terrified Coby. His heart pounded like the feet of a flamenco dancer and he couldn’t stop shivering. Paranoia trailed him, the feeling of being watched a continuous and empty threat.
He asked himself: if he was so afraid then why was he out here? Why was he creeping around at the mercy of the rain? He was on a mission. An unofficial, unauthorised and very personal mission.
He tentatively peered around the corner. Finally-there it was! Across the courtyard stood his target: the midshipmen’s quarters. Yet as he beheld the rather uninspiring-looking concrete building, terror hit him harder still. If he entered that building, he would be committing a crime. He would be wilfully ignoring what the Vice Admiral had told him about this building:
“It’s out of bounds. It’s forbidden.”
“Ok sir, I understand,” Coby had replied, “But…may I please ask why?”
“No you can’t,” Garp had growled, “You got a problem with that?”
“Errr…”
“I SAID, HAVE YOU GOT A FUCKING PROBLEM WITH THAT?”
“No sir, of course not sir! Please forgive my impertinence!”
“Good. Now piss off back to work then.”
As he had just stepped out of the door, Coby swore he heard him mutter, “You and that yellow-haired moron aren’t a single unit you know.” Coby had been understandably puzzled.
He shuddered involuntarily at the memory. He could get into Trouble. The kind of Trouble that, in Coby’s mind, involved many, many clenched fists, court marshals and quite possibly prison, with the key smashed into tiny pieces and flung into the bottom of the ocean. Or even worse still…to be rendered “Missing in Action”. Rumour had it the Vice Admiral had no qualms about making this fate possible…
Friendship meant friendship though. He’d risk it, just this once.
He counted the windows across the block - four, six, eight, nine, that was definitely the room - and was just about to make a final dash for it when suddenly he stopped. A small, black object had come sloping into the courtyard, clearly sniffing for something. His heart lurched into his stomach. It was a navy patrol dog. Not just any patrol dog either. Judging from its leisurely wobble, it was a hulking, obese and very irritable rottweiler that the recruits had affectionately christened “Nutcracker”. He had no idea why and had no intention of finding out. Coby was going to have to take another risk. He was going to have to try a move that he knew only in theory. He breathed in deeply and…
“SORU!”
The result was startling. He found himself propelled through the air, like a man out of a comedy cannon, and unable to stop, went careering into the midshipman’s quarters, then into Helmeppo’s room where the blonde had been in the unfortunate act of relieving himself. The ensuing crash brought him sprinting back from the bathroom, stripy pyjama bottoms held up by hand, where he tripped, fell and created a spectacularly ugly pile-up with the intruder.
“Owwww!” cried Helmeppo, “Damn you burglar, but I’ve got you now! What the hell did you think you could steal from me, eh?” His hands found their way on to two scrawny-feeling limbs. Got him by the arms!
“Answer me! What did you break in for?”
“Owww,” came a soft moan, “I’m so sorry Helmeppo-san…”
The familiar voice was as alarming as a gun shot. Helmeppo sprang up as quickly as if it had kicked him up the bottom, and punched on the light switch. Surely enough, a dishevelled and very soggy Coby lay in a heap on the floor, his luminous hair visible under the fringes of a woollen balaclava, possibly knitted by his mother. He was lying on his back with his limbs stuck out at all ungraceful angles. Looking down at him like this, Helmeppo felt his cheeks burn. What he thought had been the arms of a burglar might possibly have been Coby’s thighs.
“C-Coby!” he spluttered, “What the..?!”
Coby picked himself up awkwardly.
“I came to see you Helmeppo-san, I…”
“You came to see me looking like that? You look like one of the mountain militia. What did you want me for? A light after-dinner game of guerrilla warfare?”
Coby whipped off the balaclava and rose to his feet. His face was flushed and he was fighting to regain his breath.
“I…”
“And besides,” continued Helmeppo, “Who said I wanted you to come and see me? It’s been two months since you left and you’ve been ignoring me. So much for regiment responsibility.”
Suddenly Coby thrust himself forward and sent Helmeppo very nearly crashing into the wall.
“I came to see you to apologise Helmeppo-san! That fight we had before we left-I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left things like that - though you were being stubborn you must admit - but we’re friends, I want us to always be friends, so let’s just forget about that fight. And I swear, I haven’t been ignoring you. Forgive me?”
Helmeppo felt such an oddly warm, fuzzy feeling that the barriers rapidly melted.
“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Coby.”
They looked at each other. Coby’s arms were wrapped around Helmeppo’s back; Helmeppo’s were resting on Coby’s shoulders. Their faces were merely inches apart and some of Coby’s rain-drenched hair clung to the shirt of his friend’s pyjamas. They both yelped in unison. This had happened far too often. You could almost hear the sound of Velcro as they swiftly tore themselves apart.
“Gaahhh! Coby you’re soaking wet!” said Helmeppo, almost as if to justify himself.
“Well it is raining Helmeppo-san,” retorted Coby.
“You’re dripping all over the carpet! Towels are in the bathroom.”
Coby took up the offer and dried himself off in the bathroom. When he returned, Helmeppo was curled up in bed swathed up to the neck in his duvet. Coby plonked himself at the end of the bed.
“So,” said Helmeppo, “If you haven’t been ignoring me then why haven’t you spoken to me earlier? Why visit now and not before?”
“Helmeppo-san,” sighed Coby, “It’s not as easy as you might think. My training has got tougher and longer. I actually go on exercises on the training ships now. And they let me handle weapons that cause more damage than just a split fingernail. Then…” He paused uncertainly. “There’s been the ban imposed on me by Vice Admiral Garp.”
“Ban?”
Coby reiterated what Garp had told him. But he omitted the Vice Admiral’s final snide comment. He didn’t want Helmeppo to know what Garp thought of him but most of all, Coby wanted to consider for himself what exactly had caused to Garp to say it in the first place.
Helmeppo was indignant at the news.
“He told you that you weren’t allowed in here?”
“He just said it was out of bounds, nothing else.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“Because he’s the Vice Admiral, Helmeppo-san. He can do nearly anything he likes without question.”
“Bet he just enjoys winding us up. I told you his hobby is tormenting low-ranking scrubs like us.”
“If you say so, Helmeppo-san.”
“He’s so weird! And that assistant of his!”
Coby was confused. “Which assistant of his?” he asked.
“The guy who looks like a reject 1940’s private detective.”
Coby instantly remembered him. The man who slunk around the base like a ferret, smoked a pipe between lips as puckered up as a dog’s backside and could lay waste to entire regiments with a mere flick of his katana.
“You know,” continued Helmeppo, “The guy who wears the flasher mac and always looks like he’s about to…”
“That’s Commodore Bogart, Helmeppo-san.”
“Well whatever his name is. What exactly does he do anyway?”
“He works closely with the Vice Admiral.”
“Doing what though?”
Coby had thought hard about this and found he couldn’t answer. He had seen Commodore Kyo lurking around the base on several occasions but it had never been clear what exactly he was doing. Or what his full job was, full stop. So the two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence during which, Helmeppo pushed himself further down under the duvet until only his forehead was visible. Then he said in slightly muffled tones:
“You know Coby, it’s been weird not having you here.”
“Has it?”
“Yeah.” His voice quickly returned to normal. “I keep looking for a pink-haired pygmy and failing. Mind you, you’re not always easy to spot. I tend to only find you when I trip over you, like an uneven paving stone.”
Coby frowned but the beginnings of a smile were also visible underneath it.
“Oh yeah?” he said. Coby was polite but not polite enough to take it lying down. “Well better that than suffer constant neck-ache looking up at you all the time, Mr Bean-pole. You make sticks of celery look obese.”
“At least I’m first to know when it’s raining,” came the retort.
“Yeah, and the only one it snows on.”
This time Helmeppo responded by throwing a pillow out from under the covers at him and Coby actually smiled. It felt like he had almost come home, as if they were back in their comfortable if somewhat argumentative old days of being Zatsuyou.
But when the time came for Coby to leave Helmeppo (who had began to doze off under the duvet) and go back to his new quarters he was reminded that things had not and could not go back. He knew that he really didn’t want to scrub floors or exist in the mundane routine of a midshipman but he felt a strange foreboding about a position that wouldn’t allow him to see his best friend. Nevertheless he had promised, ignoring his intention of only one visit, that he would sneak out again to see Helmeppo. Being Coby, he was true to his word and though he feared the consequences, he visited Helmeppo again about a week later. But he came with bad news.
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