Of Dreams and Futures - Maybe...somewhat...a bit?

Thatch jabbed a fork onto his plate and then proceeded to chew on the empty utensil. "I don't get it," he told his table companion seriously over the screaming, yelling and cursing of the galley as food was sucked into a blackhole-like rubber stomach.

Marco picked at his teeth, unconcerned. "What are we talking about?"

"That." Thatch wiggled his fork in the kid's direction.

Marco followed the line of sight before turning back to Thatch with a raised eyebrow. "Yoi. What are we talking about?"

Thatch grinned. It was a very good question. About the latest assassination attempt by the hot head? About Brother Complex 1 or 2? About the record food stuffing? (Or come to think of it, the bill. The bill! Thatch suddenly dreaded having responsibility for the kitchens. Davy Jones' Locker, the bill!) There was a mountain as tall as the stacks of empty plates three tables over of manly gossip that they could talk about with the trio in question. The Moby Dick hadn't been this chaotic in a long time.

What he wanted to talk about was something he else, though. And a smidgen more serious. "You know a few months back how Namur and his division were all upset about some reports on Fishman Island?"

"We always get reports from our territories. 'Specially from there. Can't have been that important if nothing came from it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too, but apparently it's a bit complicated. A great deal for those down there. The story came up with Namur today."

Marco's brow furrowed. Then he said, "….Okay? What is so interesting that you need to dig it up?"

"Hm," said Thatch. "'I only heard of it myself today of course, weren't you listening. Anyway, didn't you notice Namur not liking the Spade Trio much – turns out that future telling mermaid they have deep under Sharly or Shirly or something, caused a mass panic or something 'cause she predicted someone destroying Fishman Island."

Marco raised both eyebrows this time, to show that he was following if unimpressed. "So?"

"I know, right?" Thatch nodded deeply, like they were discussing the weather. "On Fishman Island, the woman apparently holds a great reputation for never being wrong and shit Namur said. But here's the hammer." Almost conspicuously Thatch leaned over the table, part to mess with Marco, part cause it really was so ridiculous, he couldn't bring himself to speak it out loud. "Who do you think she said was going to do that?" Thatch gave a pointed look at the stack of plates. "Luffy."

The pineapple head stared expressionless first at Thatch, then at the brat (kid, wet behind the ears still, really) in question who was currently laughing his head off. Marco looked back at Thatch. "Sure, why not. But really, if you want to plant rumors for a prank or something, you should know better by now than to start with me." With that, the first division commander got to his feet and left his fellow in the dust.

Thatch squawked indignantly and scrambled over the table to catch up with his friend. "Oy! I'm not kidding! It's true, really! That's what I heard! Hey, don't ignore me, idiot!"

Marco gave Thatch a smack upside the head (the hair!). "I don't want to be called idiot by you!"

Laughing out loud, the fourth division commander swung an arm around his friend's shoulders, not caring about the protests. "I'm not saying I believe it. Ha! I was just wondering. What kind of thing do ya think Luffy did to get himself such a label attached in revenge?"

Marco glared and bristled in irritation. "Probably asked her if she could poop."

Thatch blinked in astonishment, then doubled over laughing, the darkening glower of Marco's only making him louder.

"Don't make me throw you over board," the phoenix threatened, serious.

It took a lot of effort, but Thatch managed to contain his amusement to giggles. He took deep breaths. "But I'm wondering. I mean it's Luffy."

"Luffy did nothing. Didn't even speak with the witch," growled a third voice, making both commanders jump.

….

"...do you need help?"

Ace glared. The fact that he was literally crushed into a wall, imprint and all, did a lot to lessen the ferocity of his (usually infamous) evil eyes. (How many had walked past the boy and not even seen him stuck there?)

"I'll take that as a no," Thatch grinned, "but I don't really care. Come on fire chicken, be nice and do something too," he added when Marco just stood by, still looking irritated, (though Thatch knew better with that particular tilt of his mouth; Marco was amused, just didn't want to admit it). Thatch smothered another laugh as Ace wiggled a shoulder without results.

Together they got Little Ace out of their ship before he lost his patience and just burned his way free. (A good sign! Just a bit more for a new sibling!)

As Ace dusted himself of, Thatch was his normal chatty self. "So what was that with Fishman Island? I'd have thought if someone looked most likely to throw a destructive tantrum it'd be you or Sabo. Or if someone tried to talk bad about Luffy, you'd hand them their asses – not that I'm saying you should have since then we'd have had to beat you up for it – so why didn't you? What's the real story?" Thatch tried not to look too eager.

Ace threw him a glower (that was very much back to its usual power) and Marco rolled his eyes.

"There is no damn story," Ace said. "We were just visiting that stupid cafe because the guys insisted. Then the bitch started screaming all of a sudden and yelling that Luffy would destroy the island." Ace's eyes darkened in memory and Thatch now really wondered why they hadn't come to blows with the Spade Pirates over Fishman Island, because if there was one thing that Ace lacked, it was restraint and going by the anger the boy had now…

"Luffy thought it was hilarious. Was laughing the entire way. They were all just lucky we wanted to leave anyway since that fucking island doesn't even have real meat and that they were smart enough not to say anything to our faces or we'd have made sure they had hell of a good reason to throw us out. Crazies, the lot of them." Ace glared at them, daring them to say something, anything that might give him a reason and they might find themselves at the receiving end of that naked fury smoldering in Ace's eyes.

Clearly, everything was not peachy.

The commanders traded glances. Thatch clapped the younger man on the back. "Cheer up! Eventually they'll have to see your little brother isn't capable of that. Then you can go to Fishman Island and demand an apology." Thatch gave a thumbs up and a grin.

However instead of lighting up, Ace gave them both utterly unimpressed and flat stares that nonetheless still had that intensity. "Luffy is going to be Pirate King," he said as if it were obvious, tightly and angrily. "If anyone is going to stand in his way and not move aside when he asks politely, you bet it won't be an island or country or whatever that come out as victor." On a less demanding note, he added, "and if you tell him I said that I'll roast you alive."

Thatch had to fish to pick up his yaw, Marco stared with eyebrows almost raised to his hair line, which said a lot considering he had so very little.

"Oooookay," said the fourth division commander to empty air as much as his companions. "And it isn't scary at all that you think your innocent brother capable of island destruction." Thatch turned to Marco and gave him an incredulous stare as if demanding an explanation as to when the world had stopped making sense.

Marco himself had to repeat. "Did I get that right? Luffy is going to be Pirate King? Not you?"

If Thatch had pulled all his vocabulary with insults, he couldn't have gotten a more repulsed expression on Ace's freckled face. "Not over my dead body. I'm never going to - to become – be like that."

"Then why are you after Oyaji's head? Removing rivals for your little brother, yoi?"

"Don't be stupid," Ace snapped. "I'm going to be greater than Whitebeard! That's all there is to it." Most likely to plan his next try at murdering their father, the kid stomped off, still visibly pissed and making innocent bystanders all but jump out of his way.

Thatch looked at Marco. Marco looked at Thatch. "They are surprisingly deep for idiots, yoi," commented the phoenix. "Luffy Pirate King. Ace anything but Pirate King and still greater than Oyaji. Do we know what Sabo's ambition is?"

"Sabo's dream is great," a bright voice offered from behind. For the second time in under ten minutes the two commanders jumped out of their skin. "He's so smart!"

The youngest of the Spade Brothers chewed on a white bone, smiling widely. His body mass had tripped since they last saw him those very same under-ten-minutes ago. "Have you seen Giant Glittery?"

Marco only took a second to translate the nickname and did so without batting an eye while Thatch was still trying to come up with anything that would fit the description 'glittery' on the great and manly (except then females-only quarters) Moby Dick. "I saw Jozu last up on deck. With Oyaji-"

"Thanks!" Luffy waddled through with surprising speed and Marco and Thatch smacked against the walls with his expanded body volume.

"Wait! What is – ah, he's gone."

Silence. The two looked in the direction Luffy disappeared to, then at each other. "In the end, what is Sabo's dream, yoi? And come to think of it, what is the real story?"

"...No idea."

Pause.

Suddenly, Thatch smirked. "Interesting, aren't they?"

Marco closed his eyes and smiled. "Even if they were talking about one of our islands like a stepping stone."

"I'm looking forward to the future."

This is yet another part of the Moby Dick's Tales Series set obviously before Ace joined and even before he started to somewhat cut back on his attempts at murder, meaning its around the same time as First Meeting.

Today is the first of January, I'm sure you noticed. So this is a birthday fic for Ace. Happy birthday. As well to all you out there who turn a year older today too.

Thank you for reading and if you don't mind, please to drop a review on the way out.