Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own the story or associated characters of Eiichiro Oda's "One Piece". No profit is gained from the writing and publishing of this story, no copyright infringement intended. Should this story be deemed offensive by either the legal owners and/or representatives of One Piece, Mr Oda or this website, respectively, the story will of course be taken down immediately with full apologies extended.

Notes: Let's see whether I can get back into the swing of things. Here is the long-awaited Chapter 5. Thank you all for sticking with me this long. I know this is short (by comparison), but I hope it'll be worth the wait. As for the chapter count: I will remove my note this weekend. I just didn't want anyone who favorited and watched this story to miss out. It means a lot to me that you like this story.

As always, there is a huge thank you to Kinjiru, who beta'd about 3/4 of this chapter when I first wrote it last year and who has waited patiently for me to resume writing or in fact notice that I had new PMs. Thank you... you are truly the best.

Five.

Wherein there are rules.

The furiously scribbling man stilled in his seat, the hand holding the fountain pen hovering contemplatively over the journal's pages. From its tip, the ink dripped slowly onto the cream colored paper and caused unseemly dark blotches. The rapid strokes of Trafalgar Law's pen had not increased the legibility of his entry, in fact, like most medical practitioners Law's penmanship was atrocious andgenerally deciphered by only the bravest and most experienced of scribes, himself and a select few who had learned the hard way how to decode his writings.

His brow furrowed, his expression set into the slightest hint of a frown as his gaze remained pinned to the last word of the paragraph he had just written.

'I can't allow anyone to mess this up for me. If I can't get it right this time, I'm well and truly screwed.'

Screwed. Overall this was not a word the Surgeon of Death liked to link to his plans in general and his person in particular although he was quite fond of the expression, of the mental imagery of a solid steel screw eating its way into softer wood or a body twisting and turning in agony until it resembled one. But usually it was other people that were screwed. Often, it was because they'd crossed paths with Law or his crew, by extension. He liked screwing people over. He also liked screwing around – an activity he was almost as fond of as he was of screwing people over – although he had been doing more of the latter and less of the former in these past months.

It wasn't so much a question of opportunity, because even when he had started out on his journey, Law had learned that opportunities were aplenty for a man of his build. It was when his opposites opened their mouths that things went downhill fast.

As an educated man, he appreciated an intelligence level that was higher than that of a wet sponge but lower than his own. Lower, because genius was rare (and he happened to think of himself as such, but he would settle for being called a highly intelligent man, too, if he had to), which was what made it special. As a pirate, he also appreciated someone that was not immediately scared to death of the prospect of physical closeness to him. And as a medical practitioner, he usually deviated to healthy or, at the very least healthy-by-direct-comparison-seeming individuals in his choice of a partner. Personal hygiene was always a bonus, too. Of course none of these criteria were mutually exclusive, in fact, the more they intersected the better.

As it were, however, they mostly intersected in individuals that Law had no interest of becoming intimate with for reasons of them being either other pirates (and thus not to be trusted), Marine officials (always regarded with great suspicion) or bounty hunters (therefore not even worth contemplating). This follows that despite being a doctor and having a name that conveniently began with the letter 'L', Trafalgar could claim many things, but certainly not the title of 'Doctor Love'.

A circumstance he rather liked because it was a ridiculous moniker that didn't go very well with his career choice and personality regardless of how he'd chosen to name his crew.

Also, none of this had an impact on or was capable of changing the fact that he did dislike being screwed over himself. In fact, he objected to the very notion of anyone running interference with his plans by sabotaging them, messing with his head, going behind his back and lying or cheating him out of what was rightfully (never lawfully) his. Especially if for some unfathomable, nigh inconceivable, damnable reason they managed to come out on top.

No, the very thought was unacceptable.

Trafalgar Law was not to be screwed over. It ought to be a law of nature, like the concept of gravity or death, and equally severe and unmovable.

With a frown, he ran a hand through his short cropped hair, then turned his head slightly to the side and eyed the sleeping figure that was currently the only other occupant of the Death's sickbay. Nami, the navigator of the Straw-Hat Pirates, was still unconscious. According to schedule, she should have awoken half an hour ago, but Law was not concerned. He might have ended up miscalculating her weight or possibly he had underestimated the effect the anesthetic would have on her metabolism, weakened by malnourishment. In either case there was no cause to worry. He had checked her vital signs twice already and they were strong and steady, despite the fact that her breathing sounded a little off to his ears.

Watching the woman involuntarily reminded him of her captain, which in turn reminded him about annoying people (he was associating with a lot of annoying people these days and the count seemed to increase steadily and rapidly) and his reasons for being annoyed with them.

There was no doubt that Monkey D. Luffy - or Balloon as he'd taken to calling him in his log after that incident at the human auction house - had gathered a crew of capable (actually outstanding, but Law didn't feel like giving compliments) fighters. Even on his own Luffy was not an opponent that could or should be easily dismissed. Law could deliver a very detailed first-hand account that gave testimony to the other pirate having neither much of an attention span nor any concise plan of anything, which often enough fooled people into believing the Straw Hat was harmless. It was quite frustrating to see someone with such a happy-go-lucky approach to everything race towards One Piece and prove himself to be one of the major contenders.

Striking up an alliance with Luffy had seemed like a good idea at the start. From what Law had gathered, they both held a dislike towards the World Government, the Marine and world aristocrats in general. He'd been giddy with excitement when he'd witnessed that punch - that amazing punch full of blind, purposeful and unleashed rage that had almost crushed that Celestial Dragon's jaw with a delightful crunch. The last time he had felt such giddiness he had just managed to sweet-talk a drunken security guard into surrendering his set of keys (and therewith gained access to that closed door behind which his morbid version of candy land had lain). Back then having personally caused the guard's state of inebriation had only been the icing on the cake, so to speak. With Luffy, pointing him into the right direction to wreak havoc was just as delicious.

It was exalting to meet someone who had no reservations whatsoever against creating some chaos, wreaking havoc and knocking over the establishment. That this someone wasn't bloody Eustass Kid (who'd had the gall to try and order Law around) was an added bonus. Of course, back then he had still believed that the Straw Hat would be an asset to his plans instead of the very force that brought them to a screeching halt.

Thumbing through the worn journal, the dark haired pirate made an irritated sound that tore through the silence. He shot his patient a cautious glance, but she remained fast asleep. Law had not yet ruled out the possibility of mere exhaustion being the reason for her prolonged unconsciousness, either. Also, because this would suit him rather well: while he was quite eager to lay down the law (pun intended) for the navigator, there was something to be said for that pleasant feeling of anticipation thrumming through his veins whenever he looked at her sleeping figure. Considering how her mere presence served as a reminder of how his plans had gone to waste, the thought of venting his personal frustrations on the woman by making her involuntary stay in his ship hell was a nice pick-me-up.

Trafalgar Law's original plan had been so carefully laid out and the pieces had fallen so beautifully into place up to a certain point that there had been no space in his mind for even the slightest sliver of doubt to make its presence known. He had managed to gain access to Punk Hazard and despite being required to surrender his heart to Caesar Clown as collateral, it had been worth it. The documents he had swiped and copied every now and then, the samples of various substances Law had brought into his possession to understand just what exactly it was Caesar was doing - all were tiny pieces of the puzzle that, once solved, would help him take Doflamingo down.

The Straw Hats landing on the island in an attempt to answer the SOS of Brownbeard's men had been an unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome turn of events. Their presence made things more complicated, as did the sudden arrival of the White Hunter in purchase of the pirate crew everyone had believed to be either dead or disbanded, but complicated had always equaled 'interesting' in Law's mind. It should come as no surprise that Trafalgar Law liked interesting things. And truth be told, had he not known that Monkey D. Luffy had survived his ordeal at Marineford, had he not had had a hand in ensuring the other pirate's survival, Law would have been surprised. As it were, the Surgeon of Death had known and he had anticipated crossing paths with the Straw Hat Pirates again.

The intruders' (ergo: everyone but him and Caesar, plus guinea pigs) presence had played into his hands: the Straw Hat Pirates were like a force of nature that had allowed him to set his plans into motion without the need to rally his other allies. There was no reason to when the most outrageous pirate crew to have sailed all four blues was already on the loose. And Law had been pleased. So pleased, he had offered the Straw Hat the alliance he had been meaning to strike up 2 years ago. The Shichibukai was delighted to find the younger pirate accepting his offer without a second thought.

Now, of course, he understood that thinking was not a skill at which Monkey D. Luffy excelled. Neither was planning and probably, that was the reason why his carefully laid plans had crumbled before his very eyes.

The task he had bestowed upon the younger pirate was simple enough: Kidnap Caesar Clown.

It was the logical decision to choose Luffy for this job since he was a rubber man and Caesar was nothing more than an oversized cloud of highly unstable gas. There was no reason to assume that Luffy would fail, although Law couldn't imagine how the other captain would accomplish the job he had set before him. This, however, was the beauty of involving Monkey D. Luffy in anything. Luffy was - in any and all aspects, unfortunately - always a surprise. Granted, even if the skills he had displayed at Sabaody Archipelago would not be of use when trying to subdue the gaseous scientist, that did not mean the younger pirate was without a chance. There was, after all, still that display of power during the Battle of the Best...

Law had never forgotten it. He couldn't forget it, that surge of power that swept over the battlefield, an unrelenting Luffy marking its epicenter, the eye of a storm that had so suddenly turned the tide. There was something special about Monkey D. Luffy and in all likelihood, this was not exclusively connected to his view of life, his state of mind or his middle initial.

The Surgeon of Death was not at all surprised to find that his assumptions had been spot on (as they were his assumptions). If anyone could subdue Caesar and wreak the required amount of havoc to render the production facilities of Punk Hazard completely useless, it was the Straw Hat Pirates. He'd been generally pleased with the outcome - apart from the fact that he couldn't quite understand which part of "Kidnap Caesar Clown" had prompted Luffy to shoot the scientist practically halfway into the ocean, where a conveniently placed tanker had spared the man from permanently taking up residence at the bottom of the sea. And this was the frustrating part, he thought, not needing to thumb through his journal to remind himself why he had been so annoyed with the younger pirate: Luffy hadn't even attempted to justify or explain his actions. Apart from "Yeah but he was pissing me off… so I didn't feel like capturing him anymore".

What sort of explanation was "I didn't feel like capturing him anymore", anyways? He'd tried to appeal to Luffy's common sense, much to the bemusement of Nico Robin, who'd probably known from the start that this attempt was doomed to fail and had kicked back to watch the show instead of being helpful. But Luffy had flat out blocked all of Law's attempts at reason and on his part had gotten irritated when the Surgeon of Death hadn't let go of the matter. Well, how could he? You didn't just waltz in and take over the New World because you felt like it. Those things needed to be carefully planned. Law prided himself on having one of the most analytical and logical minds the North Blue had produced during the last 40 years. As such, he made an effort – he'd made a bloody effort - to understand the workings of Luffy's - here he mentally paused and finally settled on - 'mind' in order to work them into his schemes. And to what extend? His plan, his rather clever plan if he did say so himself, was wasted. It was -

The figure on the bed groaned.

The pirate captain's eyes swiveled towards the woman on the bed while his hands automatically moved to close the journal and hide it in a secret compartment of his desk, away from preying eyes. It appeared his patient was finally waking up. Shooting a quick, cursory glance at his desk watch (four and a half hours since she had been drugged and her heart had been removed), he reached for the patient sheet, gave it a once over and leisurely strolled over to the bed. After a few moments, unfocused brown eyes slowly blinked open.

Law did not habitually feel the need to state the obvious, but this once he felt it was appropriate. "You're awake."

His patient did not respond. As expected, she was still experiencing side-effects of the drugs she had been injected. Law smirked in a manner most people found unsettling but that went unnoticed by the woman. "Sit up and look at me," he demanded and Nami complied, although her reaction was delayed and her eyes rolled into his direction with drowsy slowness. Pulling a pen light out of the back pocket of his jeans, the Surgeon of Death shone into both of the woman's eyes, receiving the appropriate physical responses but not a verbal one.

Her compliance was quite welcome, particularly since he expected that this would be one of the few times when this would be the case. It stood to reason that he not let such a rare and unique chance slip past.

This explains why Nami found herself coming around in the middle of an unsolicited health check and spontaneously refusing to answer questions about her last menstruation as well as the last time she had had intercourse.

"Well?" Law prompted quietly, then feigned realization and drawled pleasantly: "Please don't delude yourself into thinking I am asking for reasons of personal interest. These are, more or less, standardized questions for a health check."

In response, he received a glare.

"I shall put down 'virgin' then," he stated and made a show of writing a corresponding note on his sheet. Nami appeared to be completely unfazed by this.

"Well, as much as I'd love to give you a clean health bill, Miss Nami, I'm afraid that what results I've gathered so far simply renders this impossible. It would help if only you could find it in yourself to be less disobliging," the Surgeon of Death scolded in a fashion that was half mockery and half professional annoyance. The woman in question, he noted, was trying to inconspicuously touch her hand to her left breast. Memory must have come flooding back while he'd been chatting not-too-amiably with her.

"Please go ahead and touch it, Miss Nami. I'd love to see your reaction," he drawled huskily. This was not a lie: he had wondered about how she'd react once she noticed the square hole in her chest where her heart had previously been located. When he'd had had to remove his own heart - something that had not been as easy as it sounded - Law himself had spent several hours, examining the square hole left behind with morbid fascination.

Monet was the only other woman whose heart he'd removed and she hadn't seemed bothered by it. Then again, she'd taken to her transformation into a harpy the same way other women took to a pair of new shoes that was fashionable and uncomfortable or inconvenient but was worn almost daily nevertheless. The removal of her heart had been handled with such levelheadedness that Law had felt almost insulted. Where were the tears, the mental agony, the cries of pain and anguish? All in all, Monet had been quite disappointing.

Nami's hand stilled and she tensed visibly, not daring to move further to touch her chest since he had noticed, but clearly wanting to. Might as well, he thought.

"There were no complications in the removal of your heart. Luckily for you, this particular procedure almost never causes any unsavory consequences anymore. I've become quite adept at it, as it were. Particularly when my patients are as compliant as you were," he told her conversationally.

"You drugged me," Nami said quietly, steadily. The hand that had ascended her torso oh-so-inconspicuously sank back into the sheets of her bed, gripping the white cotton. It wasn't quite an accusation, although he could tell that she was displeased. He wanted to scoff, tell her that of course he'd had her drugged because she was wasting their time fighting back and he couldn't have afforded wasting more time than necessary. Drugging her meant he could swiftly and efficiently remove her heart and it quieted the questions of whether or not it was right to put a pretty woman like her through such agony. It was a win-win situation, but the Straw Hat Pirate probably wouldn't see it like that and thus Law didn't waste his time trying to explain it to her. Instead, he said: "Begging your pardon, Miss Nami. Had I known you'd wanted to experience the agony of having a vital organ ripped from your body, I wouldn't have bothered. I shall make a note of it the next time or would you rather I remove something else of yours right now to make up for it?"

She shook her head, much to the dark doctor's disappointment.

With a careless flick of his wrist, Law closed the patient file in his hand. He made a show of setting it aside and crossing his arms in a vaguely haughty manner that was underlined by his towering height and the distinctively condescending look he shot the Cat Thief. Nami made a tired effort of not being impressed.

"Is this the point where you lay down the law?" she asked placidly, the lilt of her voice on the last word of her question leaving the barest suggestion of an intended pun behind.

"Do you plan to make it necessary?" he asked in turn. When no response came forward, the Shichibukai slowly walked to the foot of the bed. His tanned hands gripped the barred foot end, a stark contrast against the unpainted steel bars.

"Of course, for the duration of your stay," Law said at length, savoring the word 'stay' as if it were a fine whiskey, "you will be subject to my rules. I understand it's a foreign concept to a Straw Hat like you, but you'll catch on quickly, Miss Nami.

It's all quite simple. Rule number one," he began, holding up his index finger. "My ship, my rules. I am the highest authority on this submarine to which you'll answer. This means you'll do as I - and only I - say without question. For as long as you are here, you're mine, period. I can and I will do with you whatever I want, even if it is just to amuse myself. And you will obey, Miss Nami, or there'll be consequences."

He gave her a long, hard stare. Together with the way he had emphasized the word consequences, it promised all sorts of unpleasant things. Law held up a second finger and added: "Rule number two: always follow rule number one. Understood?"

Nami had the distinct impression that he was trying to be intimidating. The tone, the raised hand to show one and two fingers respectively, as if he were implying that she couldn't count to two were as insulting as his little display in Impel Down had been, if not more so. Nami was hard pressed to not show her annoyance and instead answered softly: "Loud and clear, captain."

The smirk she received in response was the kind one would have loved to forcibly wipe off if given half the chance. And damn him, but Trafalgar Law seemed to be well aware of it, too.

"Well then now that that's out of the way," the other pirate began, "I guess it's time to move you to your… ah… cabin."

This statement was made with as much forced neutrality as Law could muster and put Nami instantly on edge. "I have taken the liberty of arranging for you to have some space all for yourself. Do not worry, my crew shall not bother you at all. We'll be putting in a stop at the Sabaody Archipelago and then it's off to the New World and you'll get a shot of helping me track down your captain," he explained, making a gesture that clearly communicated his desire for Nami to leave the bed. Reluctantly, she did so. 'A plan, I need a plan' she thought and just to buy time, she echoed questioningly: "Sabaody Archipelago?"

Law made a dismissive gesture. "A simple supply run. As you are aware, some things are quite hard to procure once in the New World," he said. "We should be docking sometime this evening and move on to the New World tomorrow. And before you ask, no, we will not be stopping at Fish Man Island. It won't be necessary and I'm well aware of what happened there between your captain and Big Mom. I'm not taking that risk."

The red-haired woman averted her gaze at the implication and bit her lower lip. Her mind, however, was running at lightning speed. Sabaody Archipelago was her only chance to escape – she could not afford to let it go to waste and no matter where Law would choose to incarcerate her for the duration of their voyage, she would have to find a way to use that to her advantage.

Reluctantly, Nami sat up in the bed and pulled the bedsheets aside. There was no use nor any (sensible) reason in antagonizing her 'benefactor' right now. And although she itched to make a point about Law's rules and behavior, she instead found herself saying: "Can I make a request?"

"Perhaps," Law replied, his expression carefully neutral. "It depends."

She understood the vagueness of his response to imply that any possible compliance with her request on his part depended on her request and her willingness to abide by his rules. For a moment the red-haired woman hesitated, appearing to second guess her request before voicing it out loud. Finally, as if having just decided to take the risk anyways, she turned to look at Law, making eye contact with the taller pirate.

"Could I have a newspaper?"

Of course, why hadn't he thought of that? Three months in Impel Down - she had to be quite literally starving for news of the outside world, news of her comrades. A lazy smirk played around his lips. "Eager for news of your crew, are you? I'm afraid you'll find the newspaper to be disappointing at best in that regard. It has been a while since anyone spotted your ship..."

He left that line hanging between them, cautiously watching for her reaction. Nami's face however betrayed nothing.

"We'll see," the Surgeon of Death finally said.