Ace walked across the deck without a care in the world. He wore his traditional clothing attire: a pair of dark black shorts and no shirt. Usually his decision to breeze around shirtless wasn't a big deal. Frankly, everyone was used to seeing the young man walking around with minimal clothing.

Today, however, it was a slightly bigger deal. Today the Whitebeard pirates were anchored alongside a winter island. This, of course, wasn't any ordinary winter island. It was deemed by those who visited the frozen mountain range 'the island that could freeze hell,' and they weren't being sarcastic.

The island that could freeze hell was considered the winter island of all winter islands. Blizzards tore across the desolate mountains, hail the size of galleons dropped from the sky crushing anything in their path. Avalanches which would put tidal waves to shame rolled across the vast cliffs. The sea itself was frozen around the shores traveling leagues away in every direction.

Few of the crew dared step on deck; they were convinced they'd freeze to death in mere seconds. Then there was Ace, walking around the area, shirtless.

The crew forced to shovel the deck glowered at Ace. Their newest commander skipped passed ignorant of the cold assaulting his siblings.

The fire-user melted a path in the snow heading for the middle of the deck. Located there, was the massive chair which belonged to one of the strongest men in the world, and the crew's father. He was the only other person on the Moby-dick crazy enough to be on deck – by choice – in this absurd weather. Thankfully for the crew's sanity, their father was at least wearing multiple layers, unlike a certain fire starter.

Ace was vaguely aware that it was still the afternoon. Vaguely because with the blackened clouds and ever-present blizzards, it was hard to see any hint of the sun. Ace was currently going off his internal meal clock, which announced dinner was a few hours off.

"Afternoon pops," Ace said with a light wave.

Edward Newgate glanced behind the young man; a trail lay where his son had made his journey across the deck. Where Ace roamed – despite the snow-shoveling done by the second and sixth divisions – was the only part of the deck in which you could actually see the wood.

Newgate let loose a booming laugh in greeting. His deep rumbling 'gurarara' shook the ship. Cascades of snow slipped off the mast and decks. A dozen yelps and cries followed as three of the men were buried in the mini avalanche.

Edward greeted Ace knowing full well the buried men would be okay, their brothers were already digging them out.

"Afternoon son."

Ace beamed, then jumped easily from his path and perched himself on the armrest of his father's chair. "Marco and the others back yet?" he questioned making himself comfy.

His father shook his head in a negative.

The Whitebeard crew came around to this island once every few years. The island was considered one of his territories, though no one else would claim the place. Edward Newgate took the islands sole inhabitants very seriously. The inhabitants were a highly rare species of spirit bear, and Edward Newgate found them fascinating.

Usually, his ally and daughter Whitey-Bay was responsible for this particular island. Her icebreaking ship would visit once every few months. She'd check on the bears, ensure the lack of poachers, take a count of the species, and see if any cubs had been born. Then she'd report to Edward Newgate their safety and status.

Unfortunately this month Whitey-Bay and her crew were unable to visit. Naturally, the mildly stubborn Edward Newgate couldn't have that, he had the helmsmen set a course for the island to check on the bears. Many of his sons suspected Newgate just wanted to show the bears off to his newest children.

The first division – led by their slightly less likely to freeze to death commander Marco – were on the island doing Whitey's duties. The group had spent the last few days counting the bears, checking for newborns, and looking for poachers.

"They'll be home soon; it's early yet" Ace nodded glancing toward the island. In the distance he could make out a light flurry, it had been going on the past few days, and centuries.

"I'm sure they'll be fine" he agreed. The first division could handle a little cold; there was no need to worry needlessly. Ace was having trouble avoiding it since this was the first time Marco had been off the ship since he'd joined the crew.

"Commander Ace can you give us a hand here?" a man from the second division shouted. Even with their father shaking the ship and a dozen men shoveling they were making zero progress with the ever-falling snow.

"Sure!" the devil fruit user yelled back. Pulling on the careful control of his flames Ace extended his hands and called out a quick warning "watch your feet!"

Those on deck from the sixth division realized a few seconds late what precisely the second division commander was planning. With his yell of warning, Ace released a wave of heated flames. The fiery surge raced across the deck melting everything it came in contact with.

Within seconds the entirety of the deck was snow free. The crew was left standing awkwardly - feet covered in the melted ice - on their clean wooden deck with now useless shovels

"You could have done that the entire time!?" cried an angry man from the sixth division

"I'm soaking! I'm gonna freeze to death!" panicked another

Those complaining about being wet suddenly realized the temperature was going up. Finished with clearing the deck Ace moved to make sure his brothers didn't become giant ice sculptures. Using his careful control, all across the deck boots started steaming. He quickly burned away the water without burning anyone's feet.

"Thanks, commander!" yelled a bunch of voices. Ace grinned, happy to help his siblings even knowing within an hour the deck would be fully covered once again.

Sure enough a few hours later as the crew trailed into the mess hall – using a path Ace had created – the snow had returned and in full force. In the few hours it had taken for the sun to fall a massive storm descended upon the island. The storm brought in snow as thick as Ace's waist, and the navigators expected the snow to reach the top of their father's chest by morning.

Munching absentmindedly on his dinner Ace was really trying not to worry about the first division. They weren't yet late, and it was unlikely any of them would freeze to death. There had been no drastic events, no avalanches, and the storm was still manageable, so logically they should be perfectly fine. Still Ace worried.

"Ace, you think when you're done..." started Haruta, jerking Ace from his internal musing.

He glanced at his short brother his face stuffed with meat "hm?" he mumbled.

Haruta sighed deeply "the snow is up to my shoulders, you think you could walk me to my room?"

Ace tried quite hard not to laugh at his brother, it wasn't Haruta's fault that the snow was too tall, nor was it his fault that he was short.

He failed when Thatch sitting nearby cracked up. Holding his stomach and smacking the table the chef sputtered and coughed unable to breathe.

"Shut up Thatch! Like you haven't been walking in Ace's paths all week!"

"Hey!"

"'why hasn't Ace come through yet, how am I suppose to reach the kitchen like this' I heard you whining!"

"Poor short Haruta can't walk to his own room. At least I made it to the kitchens eventually!"

Ace chuckled as Haruta slowly turned red "Sure Haruta, just gimme a few minutes I'm almost done"

"If you're doing it for Haruta, I'm going to take advantage" added Izo sipping delicately at his drink "following you is certainly better than wadding through waist-high ice."

Thatch looked at the Izo in mock betrayal. However, he and many others quickly jumped the bandwagon and added his own pleading puppy dog eyes toward their fire starter.

Agreeing far too readily according to Jozu. Ace ended up leading packs of his brothers across the deck. He created a few different routes leading to essential locations. He led from below deck, to the masts – where some poor unfortunate souls were on watch. He led a trail to his father's room and back. And another from where the first division would return to the deck, leading below deck. Each path he remade once an hour.

His latest trip led him to the railing. For a brief moment he stared out at the island. The darkness was thicker than ever with the sun falling below the horizon – or so he assumed, he couldn't actually see the sun. He watched the blizzard, the falling snow deafening the world. Even for such a storm, it was a peaceful moment for Ace who couldn't get cold.

Not a single flake survived touching him, the ice melted on contact and the leftover water slipped into steam. As he had been doing all day, he kept his temperature crazy hot to keep himself from getting wet or cold

Distracted by the falling ice, Ace didn't notice the first division return until one of his brothers was directly in his face.

"Ah, hey Ace," said the man pulling himself over the railing. "why am I not surprised you're on deck shirtless still."

Making a noise of surprise Ace flinched, he'd not even realized anyone had approached. Why should he when everyone had been avoiding deck unless he was leading them?

Trying to cover the flinch Ace smiled disarmingly and said "I'm just awesome that way" he said evenly giving the man a hand.

"There's a path" noted the man "sweet, time for dinner!"

One by one the first division returned, each pulling themselves up and over the railing. Everyone was bundled and covered in thick snow. The groups took immediate advantage of Ace's path and rushed off to warm themselves up.

Once everyone was safely on deck, Marco himself appeared. With practiced ease, he pulled his exhausted body over the railing. Like many of their brothers, Marco was bundled in a considerable amount of layers. He wore a warm blue jacket, thick boots and pants, he also wore his woolen hood covering his blonde hair. His face was tucked in his coat, and his hands were covered by gloves.

He stepped effortlessly onto the deck. A bundled blue hood nodded in acknowledgment toward Ace. The second division commander knew Marco had been counting and making sure everyone was accounted for before he joined them on deck.

From beneath the hood, Ace could barely make out Marco's face. Ace could, however, tell that Marco's nose was bright pink in the cold.

Marco shifted his head giving Ace a better look at the familiar blue eyes and the slight upwards tilt of his lips.

Ace was struck by the peaceful expression on Marco's face, little did he know it was due to Ace being there when the first division returned to deck.

"Still shirtless I see," said Marco, his man's breath coming in cloudy white puffs

"Don't pretend like you're complaining" he shot back with a confident smirk then added, "welcome home."

Marco The Phoenix felt a rush of easy pleasure from the words "Thank you" he responded.

Marco glanced toward the path left over, along with the deck there was a clear sign of a dozen footprints marking the first division's passage "helpful" he said with a nod of his hood.

Ace grinned and pushed himself away from the railing and extended his hand. With a chuckle, Marco pulled off his glove and placed his hand into Ace's. Their fingers intertwined, to Ace he felt like he was holding ice rather than a person. Marco, however, swayed sideways melting toward Ace and his warmth.

On instinct, Ace warmed his hand further and spread a very light bit of flames encircling the two of them. Marco moaned pulling Ace and his warmth closer. Letting out a breathy laugh Ace let himself be dragged into a fluffy blue jacket. Marco wrapped his arms around him, and he returned the embrace in kind warming up his phoenix.

"And here I thought you couldn't get cold" Ace teased.

Marco made a noise halfway between protest and a grumble. He'd told Ace a dozen times he does just that, unlike some flame users. His flames were cold and did nothing to help warm him up. Ace had pointed out each time Marco had healing powers and he returned with the fact that healing powers did nothing for the cold. Though if they were speaking about handling heat it was another matter altogether. A positive Ace decided considering he literally was made of fire sometimes.

"You know it's warmer in the mess hall" Ace noted, yet he did not move to release Marco.

Marco closed his eyes peaceful while warmth spread over his entire body. Goosebumps raced over his skin and heat ran deep into his bones. With Ace, he felt like he'd never been in a blizzard – or was still in it.

"I am inclined to disagree."

Ace leaned backward and tilted his face to Marco's. His expression was one he carried when he had an evil plan. With his eyes still closed Marco didn't notice until he'd already done it. Ace leaned forward and brushed his lips against Marco's still fairly pink nose.

Feeling wonderfully soothed he leaned into Ace, his arms pulling the other tighter. Ace took advantage and brushed kisses along Marco's cheeks warming each spot with a flutter.

Then his lips finally reached Marco's, and the blonde decided right there that perhaps it wasn't so bad to get cold, so long as he had this to look forward too.