A/N: (´ー`)σ ily. I'm incredibly sorry.

Here we go.

Chapter 18

Utter exhaustion.

That is all Nami seems to be feeling early morning of next day, heart throbbing from the heaviness of her lengthy talk with the man she only months ago referred to as her boss. She has always been a talker - a person whose words came with the utmost ease whilst expressing herself, yet it all feels times harder when it comes to him. In fact, they had not quite properly ended their conversation the previous evening; their friends had oh-so-gracefully launched themselves back into the living room for a late-night game of drinking which, if anything at all, Nami felt rather up to given her situation. The hurt that slowly built itself around her heart the past few months is not entirely gone. Healing, perhaps yes, but not quite cured - which happens to be making it that much more difficult for her to utter a single word as she sits, buckled, next to her doctor as he drives them across the eerily bare country roads towards where he had been staying with Corazon.

She is meeting him. Finally. And for some reason, her stomach is unable to halt its fairly strong flippity-flops each time she recalls that very fact.

"Nami-ya," Law's gentle enunciation of her name quickly yanks her back to reality.

Smiling - a tad forced, she unscrews the top of her coffee thermos and takes a small sip before looking over to him and responding with a soft, "hm?"

Without a moment to register it, the car makes an abrupt stop next to a small, humble house placed among many others of similar size and shape - its compact nature and the baby trees surrounding it gives it a homey aura, which instantly helps ease the cartographer's rather frayed nerves.

"We've arrived," he finally voices, gently slipping the keys out of the ignition and opening the door of his car, to which she responds with the same. The cool air feels magnificent against her perspired skin as they make their way, still silent, through the creaky gate and into the house she, despite her lingering hurt, finds herself relieved to discover had been his home for the last few months of his absence. The moment she steps into the humble home, she is greeted with the sight of endless furniture items spread across the living room - paintings sprinkling the walls and rugs upon rugs rolled out before her. A small door leads into a fully-furnished kitchen, with a door beyond it opening onto a strikingly green, freshly mowed backyard.

Her doctor seems to register the baffled look on her face and, as he places the keys back into his pocket, all he offers in explanation is a simple, "You will soon understand" before leading her further into the small, and rather lived-in home. A minor part of her feels that she is intruding on a home that neither belongs to her nor him; and that very suspicion is instantly confirmed when a tall, burly figure she now assumes is the true owner appears from a room at the very back of the house. Her stomach churns with deep anxiety once more as the hefty man's humorously long braided goatee swings back and forth whilst he gives Law a stern smile and makes his way towards the two.

"I didn't expect you back so soon, Trafalgar," is his greeting, his steps halting a few feet away from the calm figure of her doctor. His eyes soon shift away from Law's face to drop down to Nami's eyes - and though his build may initially be somewhat alarming, his eyes give off a distinct kindness.

She then smiles and offers him her hand to shake, "I apologize for the intrusion. I'm Nami."

It takes him a moment to register her formality, but soon he mirrors her smile and accepts her gesture. His voice is calm, welcoming, "I'm Sengoku, a friend of Law and Rosinante."

"Corazon," Law offers in silent explanation upon soaking in her slightly puzzled expression in response to the name Rosinante. He and Sengoku exchange a silent look before the thickset man grabs a large coat draped rather messily across a couch's armrest and exiting the house. Before giving her the chance to question, Law places his hand on the small of her back and guides her into the room Sengoku only moments before exited.

Involuntarily, she draws in a sharp breath as she finally enters the room and sees the face of the man Law loves so unconditionally - the face of the man her doctor is so selflessly willing to give his life for, the face of the man that has endlessly reminded her of her own mother; her own guardian whom she now feels the sharp sting of missing more than ever before.

His previously long, unattended blonde hair is now neatly trimmed into a short, tidy cut. His body is as fragile as the day is clear - but nothing like the lifeless form that had dropped so helplessly into her arms only months before. His face is radiating with a full sense of life that only triples in brilliance when his gentle eyes squint and his lips curl into a wide, unrelenting smile.

"Oh how I've longed to meet you, sweet Nami!" he utters with such genuine joy that all she finds herself capable of replying with is a face of streaming tears as her feet subconsciously make their way to the side of the bed he now lies on before accepting a shockingly tight embrace from such a weak body. Like a harsh wave crashing down a frail dam, Nami's pain pours out- why seeing this man has compelled her emotions to teeter, her long yearning to feel Bellemere's hug just a single more time in her life to erupt in such a manner, and why he welcomed her in with such a loving, unquestioning fashion, the cartographer will never know.

All she knows is that it feels like hours on end that she has sobbed into this man's shoulder - hours upon hours on end since he wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her back in a way she has not been in years.

Waking up, her eyes feel heavy; her head is throbbing and mind perplexed - but heart feeling thoroughly tranquil. The pillow beneath her head is particularly soft, Nami silently notes as she shifts her weight from her left side to her back, the quilt draped across her body sliding off and slowly trickling down to a clump on the hardwood floor. Upon remembering the place she is currently in and the train of events that she is now so embarrassingly aware of once more, Nami draws her knees to her chest and buries her now uncomfortably hot face into them. In short - she cried herself to sleep in the arms of her doctor's father figure.

The shame swells up in her chest once more and escapes her mouth in a small, pitiful whine - just in time for the surgeon to hear it as he cracks open the door of the bedroom she is now residing in and stepping in with a mildly amused glint in his eyes.

And surprisingly, she scarcely gives it any heed. She has already planted in her head a preparation of receiving his irritatingly witty comments about what has happened.

Also surprisingly, however, he merely enters with a mug of tea, places it on her bedside table and offers nothing but a simple, "You haven't eaten or drunk anything since we arrived here this morning. This should do for the time being."

Nodding, she gratefully accepts the drink and takes slow, needy sips. The warm liquid trickles down her throat and immediately helps the numerous clouds in her head to clear. With a glance towards the small bedroom's window, she realizes it is nighttime; how late it is or how long she has been asleep, she has not a clue; but the instant she registers how late it could be, her previously droopy eyes snap open and she yelps, "Should we head back?"

Law, leaning against the now closed door and staring back at her rather intently, releases a soft chuckle and counters, "It is two in the morning, Nami-ya, we are better off staying the rest of the night."

Her face calms, and her fingers curl against her folded legs in a rare moment of self-consciousness, "Ah...I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Law's chest rises and falls with deep, hungry breaths. He shakes his head, "No trouble at all."

A painful silence then fills the space between them; and all she finds herself concentrated on is her slowly rising heartbeats, her mess of a hairdo and the sudden awareness of her shorts and the fairly revealing tank she earlier that day decided was a suitable outfit to wear given the heated weather of the month. Her fingers slide down her thigh and reach for a pillow they could squeeze as her doctor finally breaks the silence with a low, scarcely heard, "He quite likes you."

Blinking, Nami takes a moment to soak in his words before breaking into a slightly bashful smile, "You're very lucky to have him, Law."

Another brief silence ensues - this time not as heavy, as well as not as long. Not shy to be the one to break the said quietness once more, her doctor finally attempts to ask the question she has, for the longest time, dreaded he would.

"Nami-ya," he begins, his voice calm but resolute - but Nami does not give him the chance to finish.

"I never told you why I posed as a boy, did I?" she breathes out, watching his previously resolved face fall into a more calm expression. Softly, she bites the insides of her cheeks before, at last, drawing in a deep breath and telling him everything.

Through it all, the composure in his eyes never wavers, and he only offers the slightest of nods every once in awhile to assure her of his mindful presence to her words. Words that would ordinarily have caused her to choke up or bring tears to her eyes this time do not trigger her - almost as if her break out with Corazon has emptied her of that burden. Uttering Arlong's name, though painful, does not bring her down as it used to.

Not anymore.

The nostalgia, however, lingers in her heart throughout the one-sided conversation; memories of her time in her hometown, her sister, Gen-san, and most painfully, her mother. Her eyes soften with a smile as she speaks of Bellemere's relentless tough love, how she never deprived her daughters of their freedom and pursuing their dreams, but never hesitated to pull an ear or two if she caught Nami attempting to steal another book of some sort from their local bookstore. She laughs at the memory, her fingers sliding up her face to push her bangs away from her squinting has never felt this safe speaking of it.

And it is then that it hits her why that is.

She trusts him. With everything.

She trusts him with her background, with her friends, with her pain. She trusts him with herself. Her heart. Her body. Every part of her. Everything suddenly comes into the clear in her head.

She wants him.

She wants his cold demeanor, his irritability, his stubbornness, his exasperating silence. She wants his soft chuckles, his constant teasing. She wants his background, his friends, his pain. She wants his heart, his body, his trust.

Every part of him.

Her pulse instantly kicks up as her feet slip off of the bed and carry her across the room, closer towards him as she subtly wets her upper lip, then her lower. She only stops a mere foot away from his body before looking up at the dark eyes boring into her own and saying, her eyes hazy from the soft layer of tears slowly forming from her realization and whispering, "I'm yours if you'll have me."

She watches as his previously uncertain eyes dilate ever-so-slightly, watches as he studies her face and soaks in the words she only seconds ago dropped on him. He draws in a long breath. Closing the distance between them and leaning forward, he brings her forehead to his and softly murmurs his response, "And I'm yours, Nami-ya."

The cartographer's eyes flutter shut as she senses his hand shifting from his side and edging up her shirt to explore the small of her back with tender, curious strokes. The tears fall. His every touch is gentle, fleeting, yet still demanding; like a slowly growing flame. His body inches closer and his face descends gradually towards the crook of her neck, where his soft breath grazes her skin; somehow succeeding in placing her body into a perfect state of indescribable bliss. His free hand ghosts away from her back and detours towards the side of her torso.

She trembles. He steps closer, slowly pinning her against the door as he uses his index finger to trace stray patterns across her pale skin.

"You're shaking..." he whispers, his hand softly massaging her back as he tips his head, his lips lightly grazing her own.

Her knees begin to shake; her grip on his belt loops tighten. Excitement, fear, desire - everything she feels is right.

"Are you-"

"I'm okay," she breathes out, "Don't stop."

Tenderly, he sweeps his thumb across her cheek to wipe the tears off before leisurely allowing the tip of his tongue to mark its designs along the side of her jaw. A rush of warmth erupts within every part of her as his soft breath brushes against her skin just before he comes in and captures her lower lip between his. He closes the remaining gap between them by swiftly sliding his free arm beneath her thighs, hoisting her up so that her face is leveled with his and pressing her up against the door with a fierce, desperate, unrelenting kiss.

The instant his lips make contact with her own, she gets flooded with the overwhelming sensation of how much she has missed him. It strikes her hard. She has never realized just how strong this unbelievably wild instinct of hers was; that it is strong enough to overshadow her mindset, her logic, until this very instant as she wraps her legs around his waist and roughly clutches onto his broad neck, not hesitating to drown into him and return his kiss just as fervently. Butterflies break out from the pit of her stomach, suddenly everything is good again.

Her fingers grasp at his neck as they simultaneously part with sharp inhales of the warm air now surrounding them. Instantly, she feels light in the head - dizzy as he secures his hold beneath her thigh and shifts her away from the door. Her mind fogs and her legs cling onto him to keep herself from slipping as he unsteadily yet urgently carries her across the room.

"I've missed you," he mumbles in an absent daze against her lips. Their breaths race against each other as her heart erupts in a mass of thundering excitement. She wants to respond; to let it be known to him just how much she has missed him, but her entirety feels too overwhelmed. All she finds herself capable of is to stare back into his eyes before dropping her gaze to slowly approach his face and allow the trail of long, savoring kisses travelling from the tip of his eyebrow down to the corner of his lips to speak for her.

His steps stop faltering and instead hasten towards the bed, where he promptly chucks a stray pillow onto the floor and pushes her onto her back. His weight on her feels magnificent; just right, as if it has been the one thing her body never realized was missing. His hands slide up her shirt with pining curiosity as her own find their path away from his neck and around his torso to his back; but his shirt remains obnoxiously in the way. He seems to catch on to its inconvenience as he swiftly pushes himself off of her, yanks his shirt off and finds her lips again. Her heart races at the speed of wind as her partially opened eyes soak in the flawless lines of ink tracing his chest, his arms, his back.

Her fingers run along his back, stroking it gently; she hears him release a soft hum as he parts his lips from hers and pushes himself off to look at her. She gazes into his eyes; his glistening, full of life eyes. She can hear his heartbeat hammering against his chest. Tenderly, he runs his hand up her chest, making indecipherable designs with the tips of his fingers. He moves it up her neck, up her jaw until it is cupping her cheek. He bends, his lips meeting her forehead as he whispers, so low she could barely make it, "You're perfect."

He moves down her nose, kissing the tip of it, "Perfect."

She closes her eyes.

He moves to kiss her cheek. She releases a soft breath. He moves to kiss her other cheek. She feels her eyes start to sting once more. He slowly moves to her lips, taking a lengthy moment to first trail his hand down her arm until it meets her own, where he lovingly entwines his fingers with hers before finally capturing her lips once more, his tongue slipping into her mouth and finding her own.

And he gives her a kiss that, however many more they may share in the time ahead, Nami understands with every part of her will be the one that promised his love for her.