Title: Taking Help and Compliments
Rating: PG
Characters: Marco, Ace [and other Whitebeard pirates]
Word count: 1787
Warnings: Light Yaoi.
Pairings: Marco x Ace
Summary: Marco wants to help; but he didn't know a small comment could lead to big misunderstandings.

Beta reader: Miyorin [[thank you dear]]

A/N: So this is the updated version of the story. It was beta read by a very good friend of mine. Which I thank her very much for cause it's way more prettier now. Sort to speak. Enjoy and. Review and Ratings are appreciated.

"Vista, add another one! That was attempt number 167!"

Laughter roared through the dining hall of the Moby Dick. Ace sat in a corner of, sporting a blue bruise around his left eye. He hissed as he placed a cold wet towel over it, the coolness giving a burning sensation as it met the bruise. He sat there, already planning another attempt to assassinate the old man.
Staring at the floor, he blinked with the his right eye as a shadow came towards him. Looking up he noticed it was the guy with the pineapple hair. Great, what does he want now?

"Here, give me that towel. I will go replace it with a new one."
Ace glared as best as he could, wincing as the pain around his left eye cooled down a little.
"Hey, don't give me that look. I'm just trying to help here!" Marco shrugged.
"I don't need your sympathy."
"Look, I'm not giving you any sympathy, I'm just..."

Ace knew that the man wanted to say something but was trying to organise it into another way that wouldn't offend the person being addressed, which in this situation was Ace.
"...Yes I know, see it as me helping the crew. With that cute face of yours we can get a lot more done faster. But that can't happen when half of your face is blue, right?"
The sentence was finished with the hint of a suggestion. But Ace was sure the other had kept it so concealed that he'd be the only one to notice it.

Ace gawked and glared. Flustering he heard several of the Whitebeard commanders falling into fits of laughter while some kept continuing on the comment made by the first commander. Others didn't even put any attention into it.

Before he knew it, the towel had already been refreshed and pressed against his eye again. Ace was taken by surprise. Damn that guy. Ace stomped out of the dining hall with the towel over his left eye. For the next week, there wasn't even a sound from Ace.

"It's rather quiet" Vista commented to one in a particular, as he leaned over the railing looking far over the ocean. "A little bit too quiet."

"You think the brat is planning something big?" Vista and Marco shrugged at Jozu's comment.

For the next few days, no one tried to put any mind into what happened with Ace before. That's until after another 7 full days of not hearing any blasting explosions, the pulverising of wood, metal or bone, they were starting to worry. The freckled face kid acted like a shadow. Hardly anyone saw him.

And whenever they did see the brat it was but a mere glimpse, a shadow; lurking the halls and cabins around the ship. If he saw you, he would scurry back into a temporary retreat, close the door tightly behind him and lock it.

Marco started to have a tight feeling in his chest. What was he up to? Should he barge the door down and make the brat confess what he was doing? He thought about that but then shrugged it off. No way that that was going to do any good. To damn stubborn. Maybe asking the crew that handled the kitchen? He had to eat right. Logia user or not.

But none of the cooks came with useful information. Though they did recall him sneaking around, politely stealing food. Marco pulled of a confused face. How exactly do you steal politely?

The answer was you would leave notes, apologising for taking the food without asking. That's how you stole politely.

Typical.

He sighed deeply. Was he suppose to do something about this now? He really had no idea. What had gotten into that kid anyway? Sure enough Marco understood that his pride had been damaged by being utterly defeated by the old man, but up until now he did shown his teeth and tried to take back what was his.

Marco was confused. He admitted it. Yet it took him another three days to finally walk up to the door where the kid hid himself, and knock on it.

No answer.
He knocked again.

No answer.
He knocked harder.

No answer.
"Come on Ace! Just open the damn door and stop acting like a spoiled brat!" There was still no answer, but Marco swore he heard the sound of someone cursing.

Thus he knocked again.
No answer.

"Really Ace, do you actually expect me to stand here for a whole day? Look! I can't help you if you won't even talk to me. Now open the door." He brought out a slight smirk.
There was a shadow under the door, indicated that the kid was in there. Marco was about to knock again, but before he could do so, the door opened slightly.

So, he actually opened it?

"Well it's open now, according to your wishes. Are you going to get in or what!?" A hiss from the other side confirmed it. Not feeling up to it to be in a room with someone clearly hating him with all his might, he had no choice but to continue what he started. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he felt some kind of a feeling that well resembled worry.

The moment he entered the room, the door closed behind him with a thud. The faint clicking sound of the lock falling into place was the last sound before the silence.
He sat down on one of the crates waiting for the kid to stop pacing around himself. He was fidgeting, looking out of place and nervous. The silence crept on, and Marco briefly wondered if he was the one that had to start the conversation. Feeling the burning gaze on him, he figured that if didn't start talking, no one would.

"So..."

"Come on," Marco thought, "I've already came this far, why not just ask a simple question and leave the answer be."

"What's up?"

Marco frowned at his own question, he summed up his all his thoughts with that. Never the less he waited for an answer. But all he got was a glare.

"So I can see from the look in your eyes, that you want me to fall dead on the spot. Care to tell me why?"

Still no answer. Starting to feel that trying to ask what the kid was thinking was a waste of time, he decided to finish if off quickly.

"Right, I was worried about how you were doing, but seeing as your still in good condition and stubborn as ever, I think all my worries were for nothing."
Getting up he gave a slight nod, aiming to leave at once. He walked up to the door and twisted the doornob only to remember that it was locked.

Smart kid. Stupid thing to forget.

"Right Ace, could you unlock the door?"

Marco frowned, biting his lip to keep control. Okay he was being teased. He swung around with a unpleased look only to realise that Ace was pulling of the same look too.
But there was a more sense of powerfulness than playness in it.

"Why did you say it?"
Ace broke it.

The question came so unsuspected after the long awkward silence that Marco found himself slightly dumbfounded and unable to actually answer it immediately. What did he mean anyway?

"Uh... say what?"
"The thing about my face!"

Ace glared hard, but Marco saw a faint blush on those cheeks. Well didn't that just look adoring.
The thing about his face? When did I say anything about his face? Marco tried rewinding his memories, about anything he said to do with this kids face until it hit him.

"Was it about the blue eye?"

"No."

"Um... the freckles?"

"No" this time it came out as a growl.

"Well fill me in, cause honestly I don't know what your pissed of at."

A dissapointed sigh came out from Ace. There was a silence before he spoke. Probably looking for the right words or so, Marco figured.

"You called my face cute."

Marco blinked, somewhere in the distance a tumble weed rolled past. That was what this whole commotion was about? This was the big offence that had the famous "Fire Fist" ticked off at?

"That's it?"

"It's not something small, you don't call guys cute, that's wrong!" Ace hollered at Marco's indifference.

Right, wait for it. Wait for it. Okay. Marco burst out with laugher now. The flustered looking youngster was just adorable. Taking in a few deep breathes he was amused by the flustered glare. Right calm down. He had come with a goal, remember? Try to make the kid come out again and hell, make him attempt assassination on Pops again. It was better than having him lock himself into this stuffed room.

"Being called cute isn't a bad thing you know."

Marco got up, dusting off the dirt from the cargo he was sitting on.

"It is when you are a good looking guy. " Marco rolled his eyes and grinned, "It was a compliment Ace, you've got nice looks"

"Then it should be "handsome" not cute, that's wrong, trust me!" Ace murmured.

"Okay okay, but don't take things too seriously from now on okay? I meant it in a nice way." Marco smiled a reassuring smile at Ace.

But there wasn't a smile waiting for him.

The moment he finished that sentence, he wish he hadn't. That was one sentence that could have been taken the complete opposite focus on. And it had been.

"Take it back."

Marco tried to grin. "No." He brought out a feeling, satisfied that the eyes glared even harder.

"I mean it take it back!"

"No, I won't take it back so you might as well let me go. Besides, I meant it. No use in taking it back now. Learn to take a compliment."

It was amusing, seeing the quick changes of emotion cross that freckled face. Embarrassment, shock, nervousness. A lot really.

"Yeah.. I'm sorry-"

Lips shyly against his. Short. But enough to make his whole body alert for a moment. By the time he actually registered that he had just been kissed, an amused grin was on the others face.

"What was.. "

"I'm learning to take a compliment!"

Ace smiled and left the room in a haste after. Marco tried to shake the kiss off.
The next day things were normal again, with assassination attempt and all.
And like always, it failed with Ace sporting new bruises and wounds all over his body.
"Need help with those bandages?" Ace looked at Marco who casually stood in front of him.

"Yeah sure, thanks."