A Ghost of the Past

Film Gold

Ace

He skidded backwards, his fists lifted upwards in defense.  Thatch grinned, already launching himself forward, fist pulled back and aimed directly at Ace.  He let himself drop to the ground, ducking away from the chef's punch.

Grinning, Ace pushed himself up, but Thatch blocked Ace's attack.

"Oh, you'll have to do better than that," Thatch taunted.

"Yeah?" Ace asked, feinting a hit to the left, but then jerked his knee up into Thatch's stomach.  "I think I was doing pretty well."

Thatch grunted, but didn't falter as he practically ran himself into Ace, pushing the younger pirates backwards.  Dimly, he was aware of the shouting and hooting in the background, a ring of people around them.

Ace dove to the side, hoping his momentum would throw Thatch to the floor as well - and true to Ace's instincts, the man toppled to the floor.  But, unfortunately, in the same time Ace took to get himself back to his feet, Thatch was standing as well.  He shifted his feet, getting ready to lung forward, when he heard the sound of laughter - a kind and soft laughter.  

He hesitated.

And the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the floor, Thatch's arm pressed against Ace's neck.  The man followed Ace's gaze to the source of the laughter.  "Oh, hello there Mrs. Rouge!  Looking as beautiful as ever, I see."

His mother, Portgas D. Rouge, navigated her way through the crowd of pirates (who basically parted before her anyways - they loved her almost as much as they loved Pops, and Ace loved that).  "I see you boys are having fun," she smiled.  "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

The weight of Thatch's arm disappeared from his neck.  "No, you're fine!  We were just finishing up anyways - I have to go and check up on the guys in the kitchen, you know?"

Thatch's hand appeared in front of it, and Ace clasped it.  Pulling him up, Thatch grinned at him.  "Good fight today."

Ace shrugged, smiling.  "You too."

Thatch patted him on the shoulder, then walked through the dispersing crowd of pirates, raising a hand in farewell.

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself," his mother said, bringing his attention back to her.  "You didn't have to stop on my account."

Ace, and a couple other pirates, had taken to sparring in their free time.  They couldn't go anywhere new, couldn't meet anyone new, but adrenaline could still course through their veins.  Each pirate had his or her own way of dealing with their afterlife - fighting was one of his (Thatch's coping methods revolved around cooking - Ace suspected that he only participated in the sparring was for Ace).

"No, it's alright," Ace said.  "Thatch really did have to go check on the guys - he's touchy about the 'process' of cooking.  I don't think he'd be able to sleep at night if he didn't at least check up on them every once and a while."

Rouge nodded, relenting.  "I just returned with Roger - is it okay if we speak, for a moment?"

"Yeah, of course," Ace said, struggling to hide his surprise.  Whenever she wanted to talk to him, she just did it.  

Something was up.

His mother led him away from the people on the Moby Dick, but they were still outside.  He leaned against the boat railing, and looked down at Rouge, who looked out at the ocean.  The sunlight reflecting on her strawberry blond hair made it look radiant - golden.  

"What's up?" he asked.

Rouge looked up at him, nothing betraying her thoughts.  He felt a tinge of worry - did she want to speak about Roger, was that why she was hesitating?