Disclaimer: I own nothing but insomnia brought on by weeks of shitty assignments.

IMPORTANT A/N:

Firstly, please note that this is a Law x Nami fic as advertised. Worry not, there is NO tragic love triangle, unnecessary drama, sappiness, instant romance or character hate, I just thought it would make sense for Law x Robin to happen first in this AU given their similarities. Overall, this AU is similar to my other College OP fic, so Zoro has both eyes and Franky looks like himself pre-two year gap. But, this one roughly runs along the same time span as Dressrosa arc, minus the canon trauma. This is also a prequel to Type, which is located in my oneshots dump.

It is perfectly fine if the pairings are not your cuppa' coffee. I will gladly accept 'flames' for any OOCness, disgusting use of English, or if I bore you to death with my lameness, ill characterizations and absurd interactions, BUT not for the argument that you simply hate the pairings please. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. :)

He hadn't given her much thought before back when he had been dating her friend. No, in fact, the only thing he had taken notice of was the brilliant shock of sunset orange hair, giving her a feel of hotly contained energy in comparison with her cool, stoic dark haired companion.

"Nico-ya," he had called out and the tall, dark haired woman had turned to him with a small smile, remembering their dinner date. They had been going out for nearly seven months by then.

"I'll be going now, Nami-san, see you later in school," Robin had said to her redheaded friend. The other girl had nodded, barely acknowledging his presence as she waved goodbye and disappeared in a flash, her hair a fiery comet's tail trailing behind her.

Dinner that night had been the usual dark, teasing banter served alongside red wine in a posh restaurant. Despite them both being rather quiet individuals, they had over time lapsed into a habit of comfortable silences, casual small talk, witty debates and polite conversation that occasionally bordered on the morbid side.

Trafalgar Law was never the romantic type and believed love to be a typical chain of chemical reactions in the human brain. That wouldn't change, he knew himself far too well and years of medical and scientific jargon had hardwired his mind let alone his personality into entering a relationship solely for the physical benefits. After all, he was still a red-blooded male and although he didn't believe in the whole 'woman of his dreams' concept, Nico Robin logically came close to it, them being similarly calm, reserved, quiet, level-headed individuals with a taste for the morbid. They had clicked well, and once that fact had solidified he had asked her out and history went on its due course.

They hardly ever got into arguments, and the only ones that happened were rare, usually ending after both their cold shoulders had worn off given enough time and preoccupations with other things. Dates consisted of the typical activities couples did, he made the dinner or movie reservations after her hints or suggestions and picked her up after school at the university's front gates. On some occasions they held horror movie nights, visits to museums and historical sites, and on a few others she managed to cajole him into dancing, going to jazz music pubs and poetry recitals. She didn't mind him stepping on her feet by accident in tango classes, and was usually too enraptured in an ongoing movie or a poet's passionate speech to notice him zoning out in his own thoughts.

Their sex life was great too, granted her dexterous ability with her hands could be thanked for that aspect of their lives and them being ridiculously good looking people made for the rest of the attraction. She wasn't turned off when he wanted to try out new things, often going along smoothly though she put her foot down on some of what she regarded as embarrassing or disgusting notions. Sex (he didn't like to think of it as lovemaking) usually took place on the bed, on exquisite sheets of the finest silk or Egyptian cotton. She would at times light up scented candles and play soft jazz tunes to set the mood to her liking, and scatter rose petals along the bed whilst she approached him in her silk negligees. She was all soft moans and light sighs whenever they had sex and he enjoyed coaxing the sounds out of her, as she wasn't the vocal type. He didn't mind, as there really hadn't been anything to complain about much.

He played the part of the devilish gentleman well, remembering her likes, dislikes, anniversaries and special occasions, having planned out the dates long beforehand. She hadn't begun to push their relationship further for now, and he was thankful for that, given his track record on dating commitments the moment they went beyond the three words. She never said it to him outright but she didn't need to, he knew her way of showing affection was mainly through her smiles and subtle actions. Also, neither of them had started out with a serious relationship in mind especially he, and had both decided on a 'let the river run its course' option when they had initiated it.

They had mutual friends, two groups of starkly varied people with a commonality of jovial individuals on each side. Their friends clicked together smashingly well and none of them teased the couple much so all was essentially fine. He knew her friends almost as well as his given enough time spent together, and his own quaint bunch of mates treated her with polite respect. He even hung out with them often, or rather, he could say a certain Monkey D. Luffy dragged him into the rowdy gatherings while a giggling Robin watched on.

The boy with the black hole of an appetite wasn't that bad actually, not that he would ever admit it to anyone out loud. If it weren't for his obnoxious, reckless ways he would have been more than bearable. Franky had welcomed him in his own whacky, super way, but he had always sensed an awkward undercurrent beneath, one that sparked whenever he appeared next to Robin. The blue haired mechanical engineering scholarship student was in love with her, he knew it in his guts and he couldn't care less as it wasn't a problem to him. The musician with the afro, Brook, hadn't minded him at all whereas the other two apprehensive individuals, Chopper and Usopp, had gotten over their initial fear after seeing Luffy trash his remaining dignity to the floor with the god awful nicknames. Thank the devil Robin never called him by them and instead opted for referring to him by his given name in her usual polite manner.

He didn't care much for the blonde guy, what's his name – Sanji, but respected him as a top apprentice chef and good albeit annoying friend of Robin's. The one guy who appeared intimidating, Roronoa Zoro, turned out to be pretty laid back like him and they had gotten somewhat closer over late night beers and sparring sessions.

Curiously, the only person he hadn't taken the time or had been given the opportunity to know better was the one who crashed over at his friends' and Robin's houses often, sometimes with the rest of the gang and many other times alone. There had also been uncountable instances where he had walked into his own kitchen dressed only in his black and white patterned boxers to find the redhead lounging on the tabletop kicking her heels in the air whilst enjoying a cup of coffee. The first time it happened she had froze for all of two seconds before getting over her embarrassment like it was nothing and continued to wave her legs about as if daring him to order her to get the hell off his kitchen table.

"Morning, Torao," she had said with a brisk nod of her head, rattling off his nickname without a care for the lack of familiarity between them. "Bepo and the others invited me over last night. Sorry for the mess, Friday's poker night, you know. As usual, they're still a bunch of lightweights. Hope you don't mind me stealing some of your coffee."

He could only nod dumbfounded at her through a half-awake mind and turn towards the cabinets. She hadn't moved off the table at all when he went about preparing his own jar of coffee to kick-start his lazy Saturday. He preferred his coffee black and strong, similar to Robin. Judging by what was in the wastebasket, she liked her coffee with two sugars and a side of creamer.

He hadn't bothered with small talk and pretended she wasn't peering at him curiously from over her yellow-rimmed coffee mug with an evil smiley face on it. His coffee mug. Then, as impromptu as her appearance, she had hopped off the tabletop, rinsed his mug and rushed off with a smirk saying she had to go before Shachi realized her artwork.

An angry yell had erupted in the bathroom half an hour later and Law had to hold back his mirth at the…tasteful décor on Shachi's face as he came stalking through the house looking for the girl who had been long gone. His face had been adorned with expertly applied makeup, and a beauty mole to boot. The wench even had the gall to sign off with her name and the amount he owed her on the side of his neck in flamingo pink permanent marker.

Her appearances at his home soon became a common thing and as per usual, he never had the time or incentive to speak two full sentences to her before she was up and running away to or from whatever activity she had in mind next. It was rather reminiscent of another person with a straw hat, however, this girl didn't openly seek him out to bug him nonstop. Not that he cared, of course.

She could be found at Robin's house when he was heading over to pick Robin up for their date, either lounging on the sofa like an overgrown cat watching one of the classic horror collections in broad daylight, sitting around at the table sketching away while humming a tune, or playing on Luffy's stolen PSP with intense violence and swear words which made Robin raise her eyebrows. Once, Robin had raised a finger to her lips telling him to keep quiet as she went back into the bedroom and later returned with a sleep rumpled, grouchy Nami.

He paid her no heed and was mildly amused by what he observed to be her antics. The girl was a walking firecracker, volatile and vividly emotive with a similarly short fused temper to match. She appeared in his Psychology elective one day having taken up the class, had looked at him startled and shrugged it off with a simple "Oh, it's you, morning." She then proceeded to sit her ass down next to him after asking if the seat was taken and not waiting to hear his answer. Any of his concerns that she would interfere with his listening in class was laid to rest when she proved to be surprisingly bright and independent in her studies, and hadn't bothered him in the slightest. He took it as a small blessing she wasn't the motor mouth, attention deficit Luffy who insisted on passing notes during class and poking him in the arm with a pencil until he had no choice but to entertain his childish whims.

They didn't talk much in the beginning weeks, though he had heard enough snippets of conversation about her from the gossiping girls in the hallways and guys in the gym locker room. It didn't surprise him that some of it was negative. Several of the girls had labeled her as a bitch and easy while the guys secretly dubbed her the Black Cat for her sex kitten appeal yet standoffish attitude. He didn't care for school drama or politics, those girls were usually the same ones who backstabbed each other and the guys the typical assholes. He didn't know if she herself was aware of the accusations flying around concerning her. She gave off the feeling she didn't give a damn if they thought she was whoring out to the headmaster or janitor. Her closest female friends included Robin, the blue haired girl Vivi, and her tattooed sister Nojiko, all of whom would defend her to the last and she them from what he had seen.

Her reputation wasn't helped by the fact that she sported a tattoo over her arm, was prone to violent tendencies on the idiots amongst her friends and rode to school in style on a big black classic Harley Davidson chopper. Her own sister drove to school in a vintage Cadillac. She being the resident con artist was the icing on the cake where she regularly went about berating strangers and friends alike about owing her tons of money with criminal interest amounts. He had been careful to avoid taking her up on her offers of help with his homework and other little things in this sense. Yet for the most part he wasn't worried even if he did rack up horrendous amounts of debt in her little black book, for he had never seen any of her friends really paying her back the impossible fees. They were just impossible to pay back in any way and he had his personal speculations on it.

His own reputation was just as notorious, perhaps even more so taking into consideration his dark, aloof demeanor and sadistic penchants. The key difference was, he was somehow secretly popular with the girls and the guys respected him enough out of fear to give him a wide berth. Except that bastard Eustass Kid, who regularly sought him out just to antagonize him. Not that he didn't enjoy their bloody back alley fights.

It wasn't until their forced study sessions that she began to get under his skin. It had started out as group projects, cramming for tests and examinations, except that two out of five of the group rarely turned up and the other had dropped out of the elective. In short, it became only the two of them in a small study room surrounded by books the thickness of dictionaries and styrofoam cups half empty with cheap coffee on weekday evenings and nights.

After a mind numbing long day of textbook analysis, Nami had stretched forth onto the table like a cat extending her claws, yawned delicately and then said she was heading out to the vending machine to get more Redbull. He had nodded at her and continued reading the treacherous books until more than twenty minutes had passed without her returning.

Tired of waiting, he had gone out to the deserted hallways to find her when he came to a halt at the sight of her kicking the shit out of the vending machine.

"Stupid machine, give me back my one dollar and fifty cents," she grumbled, aiming kicks that even Sanji would have been proud of at the abused hunk of metal. "Ugh, I at least need to stay awake and not get bored to death, damn it."

"Taking your anger out on and speaking to inanimate objects is a sign of mental breakdown. You might need to get your head checked, not just your leg if you keep this up." He remarked, walking up to her and startling her out of her violent impulses.

"Oh geez, it's just you, don't creep up on me like that," she said and looked towards him with a hopeful expression. "You think you could help me get my drink or money out of this thing?"

He paused to regard the machine. He could easily slice it open with his nodachi, but that would mean damage of property and he wasn't going to pay for that or let it sully his pristine track record for medical school. Kicking it more wouldn't be of much use and it would most probably fall on them and crush them to death if they applied the wrong force.

"Not if you and I wish to become another yearly statistic in deaths caused by falling vending machines." He stated, continuing to observe her calmly.

"Oh-kay…" She said slowly with one raised eyebrow at his reply and leant back against the wall in a sigh of defeat. "Well, now that's over with my mood is spoiled to continue studying."

"I hadn't pegged you as a skiver, Nami-ya." He commented in a bland drawl.

What he had not expected was for her to shoot him a glare and huff at him in irritation. "Oh come on, we've been reading Freud for over five hours straight. If I have to read any more on how everyone's born sexually attracted to his or her own mothers, I'd sooner commit a Freudian Slip myself. I don't know about you, but I haven't had dinner and I'm gonna go grab a bite."

She stared at him reproachfully as if daring him to object.

"I have nothing to argue against when you put it that way. Though, you've overlooked an important point." He said.

"Which is what, exactly?" She asked pointedly.

He stared back at her, internally wondering how she was still not getting it. "It's an hour to midnight, I highly doubt you'll find any shop to be open."

"Oh that's what you're concerned about?" She asked, bouncing back on her heels with a sly grin. "I know just the place that's still open for service."

She was already halfway down the hallway before he could even reply her, and abruptly spun back to throw him an impatient look.

"Well? What are you standing there gaping around for? You hungry or not?"

A phone call later, he found them seated in the back of a small French restaurant being waited on by an all too familiar face.

"Grilled dory with Italian pesto sauce and marinated chickpea sandwiches with lemon confit," Sanji pronounced, serving up their dishes with a flourish and flashing an adoring gaze at Nami when she thanked him. "Anything for you, my beautiful Nami-swan!"

Apparently, the apprentice chef could be found practicing his culinary skills deep into the night on most weekdays and was no doubt more than overjoyed to cook for Nami, or any gorgeous female for that matter.

After Sanji's retreat into the kitchen, the duo settled into the comfort of their food amidst a slight edge of awkward silence.

Their lack of conversation didn't bother him, but he could tell it made her somewhat uncomfortable from the small glances she stole at him over her sandwich and the way she thought she was being low key with her fiddling of the knife in her hand.

"So…have you made any plans with Robin on Valentine's day?" She finally blurted out at him after a minute's fidgeting.

He saw no reason not to tell her. "Dinner. Movie. Probably some chocolates before the se-"

"Stop! Enough! Too much information," she said with a slightly reddened face whilst frantically waving a hand to halt him from elaborating any further. "I don't need to know the gory details of you and Robin's sex life."

He quirked an eyebrow at her forceful response, smirking a bit. "Why ever not? I assume you girls like to exchange tips about these kind of things. Not to offend, but you don't strike me as the prudish type."

Her expression rapidly turned sour. "Well, you can blab about your…details to whoever you want but some people have better things to do than be interested in the private lives of others."

"And what will others like you be preoccupied with on February the 14th?" He asked dryly.

Her self-satisfied expression was not what he had anticipated. "I'm actually going anti-V-day." She stated proudly.

"Let me guess. You're staging a protest against the commercialism of this date out of a feminist movement. Or…you do not have a date in the first place." He stated mockingly.

"Wrong on both counts," she said, leaning back and folding her arms in a smug smile. "I'm no feminist, and so far I really have way too many offers to count." She continued, glancing back at the kitchen with a strange look of apprehensive distaste. "You won't believe how many of these sad guys come up with the same old thing every other day at that time of the year. Sure it's romantic the first few times, but then it just gets so…so clichéd and boring. There's only so many times a girl can see the phrase 'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Your hair is Orange and I love it too' repeated on cheesy V-day cards. It gets old fast. Not to mention being a rip off the way they inflate the prices of flowers and chocolates all for the sake of one date."

"Plus, I need to hide out from some pesky admirers." She added, finishing off with a satisfied expression.

The next several weeks revealed more of her odd quirks, some of which he paid no attention to and others, which ticked him off in unprecedented ways.

During their study sessions, he discovered she tended to talk to herself whenever she came across a particularly difficult topic, often reading it out loud and trying to make sense of it while softly cursing under her breath. She would also fidget around in her seat and switch positions every few minutes in these instances. No doubt, she probably thought he wouldn't notice or didn't care if he did. Most other times, she would become so focused on her work she never once looked up when he got up to leave for the washroom and back.

Fortunately for him, he was becoming desensitized to outward annoyances due to Luffy's never-ending antics, but what had happened that day had still thrown him wholly off-balance.

"Torao-kun," she had said cautiously in that horrid nickname. "You are the top student in class, right?"

He waited for her to continue with her statement, feeling slightly on edge at where she was headed with this.

"Which means…you would be well versed in topic number seven." She said.

"Psychopathy and Criminal Behaviour." He stated, recalling the topic title.

"I'm doing a research essay on that…" She said, trailing off and directing an anticipatory gaze at him.

"And in what regard does that have to do with me?" He asked with a certain amount of suspicion, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Would you do me the honor of being my interviewee?" She said in a rush and quickly carried on rambling before he could object. "I mean, it's too obvious that you are one, a psychopath of course, so what's the point of hiding it. Why not offer yourself to science, since you are a medical student and all. Like what Chopper would say – uh, for the sake of humanity and life and whatever…something like that. And if you're thinking of saying no, I have one reason that will make you change your mind." She finished with a shrewd, defiant look as he mentally processed what the hell had just occurred.

She had called him a psychopath and appeared confident enough that he would take her up on her audacious request.

"What are you offering if I agree to your interview?" He asked, twisted curiosity getting the better of him. Whatever she had, it had better be good.

"Eustass Kid," was all she said with a cunning grin.

"What of him?" He asked, his attention riveted now at the thought of his enemy in arms.

"He's my other interviewee." She said. "I'll let you in on all of his dirty little secrets. Whatever I can dig out of him, that is, if you agree to be my interviewee."

He could not ignore the allure of her case, but he had one main concern about her offer.

"How will I be certain you won't offer him the same thing with me?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

She had the audacity to gape at him in a mixture of scandalized incredulity.

"Why would I do that? What kind of person do you think I am?" She began arguing and then stopped with a resigned huff. "Ok, I get it, the money and interest thing. Right. Look, I may be…able to get things I want through certain actions that may not appeal to the…moral side of others but I wouldn't stoop so low as to throw the guy my friend's dating under the bus. Also, I'm sure you can manage Kid just fine."

The way she finished her sentence made him thoughtful on exactly how much she was aware of that went on in the hidden back alleys of the city.

"So? Are you interested or not?" She asked impatiently.

He felt the corners of his mouth stretch out into a full-blown, sadistic grin on their own accord. "You may begin any time."

What he hadn't taken into account was the unforeseen nature of her questions.

"So…you like hard rock, metal, dark music, the colours red, white, yellow and black, bears, films with grandiose amounts of gore and torture, sharp objects, human…dissection, blood, revenge, and things that amuse you. And you dislike pop, country, classical music, the colour pink, flamingoes, slapstick comedy films and chick flicks, bread, ume fruit, getting embarrassed, ignored and told what to do, your plans getting foiled, and things that annoy or bore you." Nami said, rattling off the long list of things she had pried out of Law. "Any comment on why those colours appeal to you?"

"Red is the colour of blood, white makes it stand out most, and yellow and black are the universal colours of danger." He said in a bored monotone.

"Oh-kay…" She said, raising her eyebrows at his answer. "What's with the hatred towards the flamingoes and bread?"

"No personal questions."

"How is that a – Fine, moving on. Most sadistic thought you had."

"Dissecting the body parts of my victims while they're alive and reassembling them into bloodied specimens without the use of morphine. Cutting out their hearts to hear them scream as I slowly slice into their-"

"Moving on, most sadistic dream you had."

"Dissecting a flock of flamingoes after painfully removing their feathers without use of anesthetics with a ten inch long needle and pliers. Each of their beaks were slowly pulled off with a vice and their necks sliced open multiple times to be twisted into-"

"MOVING ON, childhood background and trauma."

"No personal questions."

"Have you ever been bullied?"

"No."

"Ever bullied someone?"

"Bullying was the least of what I would do."

"Oh-kay. Ever gloated at someone else's misery or misfortune?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"…"

"That many, huh? So what motivates you?"

"Revenge. Dissection. Death."

"That's…Nice? What makes you excited?"

"Revenge. Dissection. Death. The screams of prey as I-"

"Describe your ideal revenge."

"It would be planned out meticulously. Long and painful and well worth the wait."

"How do you blend into society without being caught for criminal actions and put in jail?"

"Your question assumes I've either already committed a crime severe enough to land me a sentence or have been careless enough to get caught."

"Point taken. Does the thought of kicking a puppy appeal to you?"

"Does it involve dissection?"

"No."

"Then the answer is no."

"Does the idea of bathing in the blood of virgins appeal to you?"

"…On what basis are you comparing me to the Countess Elizabeth Bathory?"

"Ok fine, how about the blood of your enemies?"

"Too sticky and unhygienic."

"Oh-kay. Have you ever thought of eating a human being?"

"…Not all psychopaths are cannibals, Miss Nami."

"But have you ever felt the urge to?"

"…"

"Alright, alright, next question. Have you ever thought of murder?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever felt the urge to commit murder?"

He stared at her, deliberating what she would say if he told her that was precisely what he felt like doing to her right then if she didn't stop interrogating him like a corrupted judge.

"Since you're not answering that, how do you suppress any urges of killing?"

"I don't."

"What? You mean you don't have them or you don't suppress them?"

"Next question." He said, feeling a headache coming on similar to whenever Luffy was in the vicinity.

"Have you ever committed murder?"

He thought he heard the audible snap of his last thread of patience.

"Miss Nami." He said, biting out the words through gritted teeth. "I believe what I agreed to was an interview, not a criminal interrogation."

She flushed a light pink at his words, short-lived embarrassment blossoming on her face before quickly transforming into an indignant expression.

"I was only asking questions related to the text! It's not my fault if you get all sensitive about some issues."

"Then why is it that I am forced to feel like a criminal without a lawyer in front of a court that's bent on sentencing me to life imprisonment or hanging?" He said in a scathingly bitter tone.

"What - I didn't know you felt that way!" Nami exclaimed, looking both exasperated and the tiniest bit guilty. "You didn't even answer the personal questions and you didn't say anything – alright, fine, I'm sorry if I hurt your delicate feelings. Anyway, that's the end of the interview thanks to your reluctant cooperation. If it makes you feel any better, I'm using the same set of questions for Kid. Oh yeah, before I forget, one last question – Does the reason why you like to dissect things and pick fights with Kid have anything to do with a repressed sexual drive for the same sex or a stunted childhood relating to the Oedipus Complex?"

He could only stare at her, being forced to acknowledge the fact that he had been so very wrong to think that only Luffy was capable of subjecting him to such deep-seated mortification and rendering him completely speechless.

It would truly amaze him if Kid didn't kill her.

He discovered later that she was surprisingly left very much alive after her encounter with Kid. The girl clearly had nine lives if she was able to escape death by the slip of her fiery red hair.

Still, he couldn't hold back his curiosity to ask even as he exchanged deadly blows with Kid.

"I heard you were interrogated by Nami-ya last week." He said as he dodged a straight punch from Kid.

"Ha! That happened to you too? The little bitch came up to me and had the balls to ask a shit load of questions on my killing preferences and other outrageous crap like that. Had to keep myself from putting a hole in her pretty little head, would have done it too if she weren't so fucking hot." Kid replied in a wide leer as he blocked the flash of steel from Law's sword with his metallic arm.

"You let her off that easy?" Law asked, intrigued. They swiftly separated after the ringing clash of metal, each sizing the other up warily with bloodlust in their eyes, tensed for the other to make the next move.

"The bitch asked me if my hair was dyed red and if I wore make up to compensate for my hidden sexual preferences! Fucking load of bullshit was what she said! Though, I figured she must be a wild one in the sack with that kind of ballsy attitude. She said she'd owe me one if I helped her but then she turned around and brought up the fucking money I owed her and said we were even! Should've seen that coming. Why? She got you that way too?" Kid said, sneering at Law.

"No personal questions." Law answered with a provocative smile. Shifting his hold on his nodachi, he readied himself just as Kid charged at him full on, his metallic arm glinting maniacally in the waning starlight.

Note:

Sigmund Freud was a psychologist who coined the term 'Oedipus Complex', a theory on children having a desire to sexually possess their parents of the opposite sex.

Elizabeth Bathory was a historical countess from Hungary infamous for the serial killing of young girls. She's better known as the Blood Countess, due to the myth that she bathed in the blood of virgins to retain her youth.

Question & A/N:

Does anyone know what Nami/Luffy calls Law? Torao? Tora-o? Torao-kun/san? Need to confirm if I got it right. Thanks! Also, do tell me if the paragraphs are too clunky, and I will space them out. Was grouping them in MS Word according to subject transitioning, but I'm not sure of how this looks online...