Drabble Number Quince: Any Other Name

Summary: He could have called out any other name … but he still called out hers.

Small Note: Not meant for those under the age of sixteen … some sexual references. You've been warned.

Ace knew this was wrong. He shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong. He wouldn't dare. But he was. He was sitting at this bar, a drink in one hand, and girl in his other. And that girl wasn't Faye. She looked nothing like Faye, and that's what Ace wanted.

He wanted a Mia, not a Faye. He wanted a blonde or a redhead, not a girl with Faye's shiny black hair. He wanted deep brown eyes or pools or blue, not Faye's island of green surrounded by gold. He wanted her thin, slightly busty, and in barely anything – not Faye's mouth watering muscular, curved, and completely clothed.

He was angry with Faye, and this was how he dealt with it.

She had left him like yesterday's news – like he was nothing more than something that floated in the air for a second and then was whisked away in the next. Hastion City was small, but it was big enough for Ace to lose himself.

He didn't know her. He shouldn't have known her, but he knew her well enough to know that it was going to lead in a broken heart if he didn't move on from the beautiful seamstress he had just met. Call it love at first sight, or call it him being stupid, but Ace just could not get the girl out of his head.

And he was mad at her for that. He was mad at her for being so unforgettable that he was drunk and still couldn't stop thinking about her.

"What's your name, stud?" the blonde said into his ear, giggling stupidly as she ran her fingers down his back. Ace tossed back another drink, knocking the bright orange hat off his head and to hang from the string caught on his neck. The girl took the hat from him and placed it on her head; it covered more than her clothes did.

"Ace," he slurred, but it was clear enough for her to hear.

"Well hello there, Ace. I'm Estella." Her fingers continued to do things to his body, but Ace was barely paying attention. He made a sound to show that he had heard her, but she was still bent on getting him. "How about we get out of here, Ace?" Those words were proof enough of that.

Ace left his bag of Beli with Hank, waving the drunken men off as he was led by the blonde with manicured nails – she was still wearing his hat. He took it from her once he realized this and put it back on his head.

"Which ship is yours?" she asked, her fingers grasping his forearm as she pressed against him once at the dock. Ace pointed to The Fixed Deck, and the woman giggled stupidly again, dragging him along. Ratch, sitting as guard on the ship, winked to Ace, but Ace didn't catch it. As he stepped on the ship, his eye went to the torn bed sheet that was lying dead on the deck. Faye. He saw her everywhere now. Why?

He was mad at her for that.

Estella was smart enough to find his room, and as she pushed him in, she locked the door to make sure they weren't interrupted. Ace picked up a bottom of rum from his desk and popped off the cork, taking a long swallow. Estella came up from behind him, her hands sliding up and down his back and his sides, her lips pressed against his ear and neck from behind. She stood on her toes to reach.

"Let's move this to the bed, hm, Ace?"

He didn't like the way she said his name. It didn't… feel right. So he simply imagined the way Faye had said it, and he groaned as he heard the smooth voice of the seamstress in his head. Estella thought it had been her and took no farther hesitation in pulling him away from the desk and then pushing him onto the bed.

She straddled his hips; Ace looked up at her through drunken hazy eyes. He didn't see blonde hair and slutty clothing and dull brown eyes. He saw silky waves of black hair, and frumpy clothing that made her curves more prominent and islands of green bathed with gold sunlight.

Estella moved to remove her small amount of clothes, before working expertly on Ace's unbuttoned shirt and shorts.

The reason for his arousal was not Estella…

She pressed her lips to his – Ace's hand came up to the back of her head, pressing their lips harder, rougher against each other. Her lips didn't feel right. They felt too… used. Faye's lips wouldn't feel like this. They would have felt smooth and soft and his.

Their bodies connected, Estella moaning happily as she sat up, tossing her head back when pleasure ran through her body.

Ace closed his eyes, not daring to see the body of the girl from the bar above him. His hands found her too-small thighs and held them. The room was hot, but it was with his anger.

"Oh, Faye."

He was angry at her because he couldn't get her out of his head.

"What?" Estella snapped, moving and climbing off his body. Ace lay still, just realizing what he had done. "You bastard!" she yelled, grabbing her clothes, pulling him on and storming out of his captain's quarters.

He was slow to pull back on his shorts, sluggish to move from his bedroom and back onto the deck where his crew was stumbling onto the deck. Ratch looked over at him, having seen the fury the girl had been in when she stormed away.

"Something happen?"

Ace said nothing. He could have called out any other name … but he still called out hers.

And Ace could no longer be mad at the girl. He could only be in love with her.