A/N: I do not own One Piece.

A/N: English is not my first language.

"You know" Marco panted in an almost futile attempt of recovering his breathe, brushing the corner of his mouth with the back of his right hand, the place where she had punched him just seconds before and the place at which a bruise was already starting to appear. His other hand found its way to his knew when he tried to support his body and started to raise his head as much as possible, or at least, enough in order to look in the face the person who stood a few feet in front of him. The pirate knew there was blood on his face, because now there was a trace of red on his hand- It was not a punch he would have expected of a girl her age, even when Marco didn't exactly know how old she was, but still. The soon to be commander took as many deep breathes as he could possibly catch, trying to control his body and ignore the pain he had almost long forgotten he could feel, knowing that it would be humiliation for a man to be that wore out after fighting with a woman, but also knowing it was bullshit when it came to fight that woman "It's been almost two years since we first met, and that means we have been fighting each other for a long time now, but you haven't told me your first name yet"

It wasn't really something a pirate normally says to a marine, but it was of common knowledge they were not the aggressive, name calling type of people. At least not between them, because really, what a waste of time. They had been through plenty of things in all that time; situations where they had beaten each other almost to death, but there still was no reason to have a change of attitude. Yes, almost two years since the first time they meet, years after he entered the Whitebeard's pirates, when she was just starting her duties as a low rank marine at Vice Admiral Garp's ship.

To be absolutely and completely committed to the truth that would be a source of entertainment for man of his crew mates, every single time they meet the areas surrounding such occurrence ended up resembling an incredibly messy war zone- Hell, there had been some serious injuries from both sides as a result of their confrontations as she had enough Haki to cause him damage, but believe it or not, 'civilized' was a more than appropriate way to call their quasi casual exchanges, and after many, many, many nights spent on the infirmary hiding from the ones who wanted to tease him mercilessly, just why she still was a low ranking marine was beyond Marco. Their way of speaking to each other was beyond both his crew and her marine companions as well, but it was okay for those groups to not understand it, since the protagonists of Thatch's favorite 'novel' couldn't actually classify it either.

But something was clear for both sides.

If one of his 'brothers' tried to fight her, they knew they were screwed. And it one of her companions tried to fight him, they knew they were screwed as well.

It was simple enough to remember and run the other way around when they were seen together.

That woman was his enemy, his rival. If she didn't lose to him, she pretty much didn't have the right to lose to anyone else –not that it was likely to happen, as his ego often reminded Marco, it wasn't easy and he could write a book about it-.

She blinked in surprise, panting just like him, bruised just like him, hurting everywhere just like him, brushing the sweat from her forehead before it clouded her vision.

"You never asked"

"Kind of expected you to tell me that was not of my business" You would think the pirate would safe up most of his strength to keep on going, but somehow he found it in him to smirk at the answer almost immediately after it was said, the corners of his lips curling up sideways maybe too close to grin or a natural smile to allow someone else to see it. And she actually laughed.

"I do not think that would be fair in the slightest; if you are going to be arrested by me sometime in the future, then you have the right to know my full name, Marco" Was her argument, trying to move her brown hair of her eyes by shaking herself a little, her hands probably hurting from the previous punch –God knows her knuckles stung with the promise of a lot of pain after some treatment were applied-. He noticed then how the strands were longer than the last time he had seen hair, and it was when Marco cursed himself, because he was not supposed to notice things like that. The man shook his head as well, trying to make it look as a dismissive gesture, almost forcing himself to sharpen his smirk so it wouldn't stray and become something friendlier, but in the back of his find he couldn't help but wonder just how or why she called him by his name with such ease "Just so you can have a name to curse while I assure you a full stay at Impel Down"

"Interesting logic"

At that, she laughed again.

"The name is Kaede" Even when many of her friends and crew mates had their doubts about it, she did know it would be pretty easy for him to attack whenever he wanted, since she was just there, sitting on the ground while trying to catch her breath and convince herself that bruised ribs didn't hurt as much as they actually did, because 1) They both knew they were out of batteries so there would no successful attack on the next few minutes and 2) The blonde pirate wouldn't do it anyway. Kaede would bet money he didn't want to win like that, the money she obtained from those who did bet on when she was going to get herself killed. So she smiled, and that was what Marco found almost fascinating about her, besides the habit of scratching the side of her leg- not that he was paying enough attention to pick up that little fact-. She didn't smirk like other marines did, she didn't rejoice in her own ego or headed for a gun at the first sight of possible defeat, that woman actually smiled at him every time they happened to be on the same location, and as always, he had no doubts shew wasn't right on the head "Danielle D. Kaede"