Love's Treasure Map (Buggy Fanfiction) [One Piece]

Claire's First Morning

As the first light of dawn timidly pierce the inky veil of night, the crew on Buggy's pirate ship awake. Their hurried steps cause the timbers to creak ready to face their daily tasks surrounded by the salty sea breeze.

The dawn light casts a muted glow on Claire's tousled hair as she rises from her makeshift nest on the pirate ship's deck, nestled inconspicuously behind barrels that shield her from the watchful eyes of the crew.

"Oh, fuck me," with a resigned groan, she stretched, the satisfying crackle of joints breaking the stillness of the early morning air. A shiver runs down her spine as the chill of the sea breeze grazes her skin, prompting her to hurry and get moving.

As she rolls up the cocoon of blankets, a wry grin tugs at the corners of her lips, accompanied by a muttered wish for the trip on Buggy's ship to end soon. "Only a matter of a few days, and all this is over."

Once there is no trace of her nightly quarter left, due to her stuffing the blankets in an empty barrel, she heads under deck.

Navigating the dimly lit corridors below deck, Claire deftly sidesteps the remnants of the night's revelry – discarded bottles, scattered cards, and the occasional snoozing pirate. The rhythmic creaking of the ship echoes through the narrow passages, harmonizing with the distant sounds of the first crew members bustling above deck.

Suddenly, the tantalizing aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs wafts through the narrow passages, coaxing her stomach into an audible protest. Unable to resist the magnetic pull of breakfast, Claire follows her nose until she stumbles upon the heart of the culinary operation – the ship's kitchen.

With a quiet creak, Claire pushes open the door to the ship's kitchen, and a wave of warmth and savory aromas envelop her like a welcoming embrace. "It smells amazing in here!"

The cozy chaos within unfolds before her eyes. The sizzling symphony of bacon and eggs fills the air, accompanied by the clinking of utensils and the occasional rhythmic thud of a chopping knife against the wooden cutting board.

The ship's cook, a grizzled veteran of the high seas, glances up from his culinary choreography, a bemused smile plays on his lips. "Morning, lassie," he greets, a twinkle in his eye as he continues cutting what seems like onions.

His calloused hands work their magic, making copping onions look effortless and elegant. His tousled salt-and-pepper hair frames his face, making him look old but approachable. The deep lines etched across his forehead and around his eyes tell stories of a life well-lived, filled with both triumphs and challenges.

Claire noticed quickly that there was a warmth in his gaze that transcended the marks of time, drawing people - just like herself - in.

Claire grins in response, unable to conceal her appreciation. "It looks divine in here!" she exclaims, praising once more, but this time her stomach offers an agreeable growl in response to the mouthwatering tableau before her.

"Don't get your hopes up just yet," the cook's timber voice cautions. His voice commands respect, yet holds a gentle undertone "Breakfast's not ready." Claire's shoulders slump a little, a momentary deflation of the delay, but she nods understandingly.

"What about some coffee?" Claire asks, but instead of answering her the cook nonchalant gesture of his knife, directs her attention to the pot on the stove, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air.

"We're working on it," the older pirate tells her, causing Claire's shoulders to slump even more, but she nods understandingly.

So, she decides to seat herself at a nearby table. She props her head in her hands, taking in the surroundings while patiently waiting for the culinary masterpiece in the making. "I'll wait."