Smoker received his dripping wet marine captain with a modicum of worry and a great deal of annoyance.

"What the hell," he growled, staring at the water collecting by her boots, "happened here?"

She looked at him, smiled, and said, "I will be taking a shower now, sir. And I expect I will not be interrupted, sir."

The G-5 underlings as one swooned and then promised profusely to do exactly the opposite of what they were planning to do: "No peaking, Captain!"

She had been carrying a sealed plastic bag, and she tossed it now to her superior. "We will not touch the pirates today, sir. That is all." She looked at him with level black eyes, and then turned around.

He watched her figure retreat. Then he spat out one of the cigars in the mouth and pulled out the contents of the plastic bag.

A thick white folder, a picture of a white whale and "BEWARE THE CURSE OF THE SEA GOD" printed boldly on the cover. He opened it. There were pencil markings on the back of the cover.

A quick, neat hand wrote, "Don't back off from the Island Walkers. Face them like a woman, and you'll be fine. The Curse isn't needed."

"But if you do happen to be Cursed," a florid hand inscribed, "ask nicely, and it will turn you back."

And, below that, a heavy hand scrawled messily: "And if that doesn't work, just beat it up."

Smoker breathed in, breathed out the spicy tobacco scent. He glanced up at the Strawhats' ship.

He could see them all on the deck, watching without the slightest hint of caution or menace. It was like they were just seeing off a friend who was about to embark on a different, but interconnected, journey.

He looked down again, at the Demon Child's and the Cat Burglar's and the Pirate Hunter's notes (none of them really fit their epithets any longer, not to people who knew them), and snapped the folder shut.

"Men!" he barked. "Turn this ship around. Today - " he spat out the other three cigars and stepped toward the helm, slipping the folder back in its bag and into his coat " - and yesterday, we didn't see any pirates! Do I make myself clear!?"

"Y...yes, Commander Smo!" they shouted, and scrambled to obey. The ship moved away from the bones-crossed flag and towards the broad, sun-crossed horizon.

"Pirates," he grumbled under his breath.

The next time, he wouldn't allow them to escape. He would grow stronger. And Tashigi would grow, too - he had seen the look in her eyes, and recognized it. Not the same as the anguish after Crocodile. Fiercer. Brighter. Like when she had first shown her fighting spirit to him, when they were both younger, she fresh out of training; like the moment he had decided she would work under him. It was a proper look for a marine with a will of steel. They would both be strong enough to fight the Strawhats, he knew.

And, if Tashigi proved herself worthy of the Pirate Hunter's sword, she would claim it.

Gonna miss me? Aww, you too kind. (And I'm too hopeful.)

I will not do anything like this ever again. Probably. Maybe some short stuff, if I'm feeling inspired.

But other than that my only fanfic I plan on having is From This Shore ( s/9182400/1/From-This-Shore), an AU with a slightly different pirate crew than we're all familiar with. Most of my creative energy (which are the minuscule dregs of energy left over from college apps and schoolwork and whatever life throws at me) will be spent on my various original works and my novel-in-hopes, Sun Road ( s/3088097/1/Sun-Road).

So, well, that's all. Again, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed yourselves, and maybe you've come to see gender stereotypes from a different point of view, too. 3