Chapter 36

"So you let yourself get caught, huh?" Rouge's voice was pure knowing, which Marshall magnanimously decided to ignore. It was his own fault for calling her to let her know how things had turned out anyway, he inwardly sighed.

"Yes, I gave in. We spent the night together, I made her breakfast and then lunch the next day. That's all that happened."

"Hey, I never said I blamed you! She's strong and gorgeous to boot, who wouldn't want to hit that?"

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "including you, I'm guessing?"

"Damn right!" Rouge laughed, sighing faux-wistfully before she declared, "alas, my heart belongs to another, so let me live vacariously through you until the big lug finally gets it into his head to sweep me off my feet. Details, bro, I need details!"

"Not a chance," he said bluntly, making a half-joking motion to hang up.

"Kidding, kidding!" Rouge apologized between laughs. Once she calmed down, she asked more seriously, "still, what made you decide to go for it?"

Remembering the lost look on the usually confident woman's face back at the party and the look of stunned joy when he presented her with breakfast, he could only respond, "what can I say? I'm a sucker for lost causes."

(Somehow, out of the two of them Compote had been the most awkward and unsure the morning after, and that made his instincts sit up and take notice. It was part of the reason he dragged his feet about leaving until it was late enough he could get away with staying for lunch.)

It likely said something about him that Rouge just made an agreeing sound, expression sympathetic.

While he was reading Trax's present, which was actually pretty good, he suddenly remembered that Compote's birthday was October fifteenth.

Should he? Chances were he'd never see her again...

In a fit of sentimentality, he decided to make her a bracelet like he had for most of his crew, except the beads would be shaped like pieces of fruit. A bit childish maybe, but considering the fruit hat she'd wear in the future he figured she'd like it.

Once it was finished he carried it around in his pocket, just in case.

Two months later, he was running after the angry mob chasing Wilde when he saw Compote standing on the side of the street.

Remembering the date and the gift in his pocket and figuring he didn't have anything to lose, he tossed it to her as he ran by, shouting over his shoulder.

"Happy birthday!"

(He would never know how much his hastily given gift meant to her.

It was only by sheer chance that she was on that island, a small problem with her ship that was annoying enough that she'd docked to have it fixed rather than sailing straight back to Mama's territory. As wonderful as it and breakfast the next morning had been, she hadn't expected to see him after the night they'd spent together.

It had caught her off-guard, walking into that tavern and witnessing the party within, so different from Mama's parties that she had briefly frozen in surprise. She was embarrassed that it took her glimpsing the presents and overhearing one of his crew giving a toast before she realized that she had walked into a birthday party, his birthday party. The air was filled with laughter, honest laughter untainted by cruelty, not a trace of fear to be seen in the faces of those attending. It had been so different, the only thing she could do was go and sit at the bar, nursing a drink and feeling so out of place. It was as she watched him interact with his crew and others at the party that it hit her that what she felt for wasn't just mild attraction because of his power, though that was certainly what first sparked her interest.

At some point during their many fights, she found herself genuinely caring about him, and that knowledge shook her to the core. It was only supposed to be one night of wooing, a delightful end to a long chase and then she would put him out of her mind. Emotions, specifically hers, never factored into it, and so while the first part was a great success, the second not so much.

She had decided beforehand that she would be content with whatever happened afterwards, but she couldn't seem to forget him. Even if she no longer sought him out, his image lingered in her mind and came to the forefront at the oddest times. Two months passed, and she was sure he had moved on, further into the New World or even to Paradise, which was why it was such a shock to see him again, even more so to realize that he remembered her.

She stayed where she was and watched until he disappeared from sight before she looked down to see what he'd tossed her, his parting words ringing in her ears. It was a bracelet, the glass beads shaped like pieces of fruit, each one a different color. She recalled the bracelets and necklaces his crew wore, remembering how he'd told her over breakfast that he'd made them for his crew and his sister, people he cared for, and her eyes welled with tears. Clutching the bracelet to her chest, she quietly cried, cradling the proof that someone cared against her heart.

Later, when her tears dried and she was safely out of sight in her ship's cabin, Compote marveled at each glass charm, gently touching a strawberry, a banana and several more. It was beautiful, the amount of care that went into making it obvious. Having him give her something previously reserved for his crew, his family...the feeling was indescribable.

From that day forward, she never took it off. As the years passed, that bracelet was the only thing that kept a single, hidden spark of humanity inside her alive.)