Caught Feelings

She harrumphed. Another day at the office meant the most mundane piles of work and most boring people. She growled in frustration. Part of her wondered why she had to be born in "that" part of the family. The branch of do-gooders and absolute justice believers who bought into the vision of the World Government. Part of her wondered why they joined Marines and why the organization allowed it. She did it as a part of family pressure but mostly for the adrenaline rush. Enduring all the trials of climbing the ranks the "old-fashioned" way and eventually attaining enough prestige to reach the rank of. Yet her excitement was short-lived, as it appeared that even this high rank came with the most dull tasks. The young woman itched to be in the battlefield, to wreck whoever she felt like destroying. It was also how she learned the ins and outs of her devil fruit while weighing the pros and cons of the element. DeWolfe shrugged. Who was she kidding? She loved strong opponents and the rigors of battle. Neither of which she was going to find while staring at pieces of paper. "Seriously? Can't some lackeys do this?" DeWolfe grumbled, her mood sour. Once again she considered the proposition of leaving, not satisfied with her current situation.

Marco cursed under his breath as he arrived at his base. He had returned after collecting a few Pirates, eliminating them from the world with his marksmanship. Honestly, he didn't want to go out in the first place, but what choice did he have? It was his duty, his way to atone for his sins. His sin for killing his own brother. No one else knew about that, except for his previous instructor. Marco had to atone for such a crime. Discarding those thoughts, he began to recall the capturing of the pirates, where most of them died. He remembered the blood that had splattered everywhere. For him, it had been a one-sided slaughter. As a, Marco was expected to be a leader, and he, despite his laziness, wanted to be promoted as time went on so he could eventually take on harder tasks, tasks that would challenge him to go beyond his limits. He made his way to the office, his office. Taking a seat, he began to look through some papers. Tax reports, bounties, that sort of thing. However, one thing caught him off-guard. It was a letter, written by an unknown individual. Marco read through it and discarded it, viewing it as nothing more than a 'practical joke'. Now, he could address the issue which had bothered him for quite some time. He called for one of his men to bring DeWolfe into his office.

DeWolfe's thoughts were interrupted by the discreet opening of her office door. "What?" she snapped at the man, irritable after a day of doing nothing (in her mind). The strength of her attitude appeared to catch the man off guard. "Um...Captain Marco would like to see you, Captain DeWolfe," he responded, stuttering slightly. She tended to have that effect on people when in such a foul mood. "Tell him that he can bring his ass over here if he needs to see me that badly," was her retort before returning to her papers. It was a clear dismissal as she ignored his continued presence. Eventually catching the hint, he left with her message to Marco. She lacked the time or the interest for another dull tirade about standards and the like; DeWolfe considered that his cup of tea. Which is why she had such a withering response for his summons. If it was something important he could make the short trek here.

"Where is she?" Marco asked as his man burst into the room. "She says that you should go see her,  if it is that important, Captain Bullet." he stated, saluting Marco. Dismissing his man, Marco snickered, and he stood, and began to make his way over. As he made his way through the halls, the men saluted him as he went by, and Marco picked up two Corona's on the way, a drink he knew DeWolfe enjoyed. He eventually found her, sitting in her office. He made his way in, without knocking. "Hello, Pinky." he said, using the name which he knew annoyed her from previous encounters. He place a Corona on her desk, and took a seat, smiling. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Well well, if it isn't the little bullet. What brings you to my humble abode?" she asked while looking up. DeWolfe then accepted the Corona while using Marco as an excuse to ignore the remaining paperwork. Cracking it open she began drinking, enjoying its flavor as a pick-me-up from the lackadaisical afternoon. "Surely you have something good to say. If it's a lecture I'll leave. There's enough drab shits around here to do that kind of stuff," the woman huffed before taking another swig. She needed something to take the edge off of her irritability and sitting still while surrounded by documents was not the remedy.

Marco sarcastically laughed at DeWolfe's name for him. "Not really a lecture, I'm not that dumb. I know you despise those. It's more so a question." Marco began, `smirking. He let himself quickly look DeWolfe over. He still got that strange feeling when he looked at her. Tossing those thoughts aside, he cut straight through the bullshit, and he decided to ask the question which he had come here to tell her. "I hear you're planning on leaving the Marines. Is that true?"

She stuck out her tongue at his sarcastic laughter, despite how childish it seemed. "Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. All I know is that I didn't sign up for a fucking desk job. I'm more the field type. The hell with sitting around writing papers all day. If I wanted to do that I would be a damn instructor. I put in the time and the work because I expected greater opportunities for combat. Apparently I was mistaken, cause apparently being a captain means you can sit around and do jack-shit. Where are the pirates? Where are the revolutionaries? Out there. Where am I? Stuck in here because of some headquarter bullshit," DeWolfe responded, furious with her situation. Whoever thought it was a bright idea to put her here had messed up big time.

Marco smiled at those remarks, and even had the audacity to tease her about it. "You're the only captain stuck here, which I find funny. I'm always out there, kicking ass, slaughtering pirates. It's fun for me. You're stuck here, which I find funny. It's actually cute to think about you stuck within this hell-hole of an office, having to do reports." he teased, jokingly patting her on the head. "All you need to do is be interested in something here, don't you?"

"Shut up. They're just afraid of my last name and what it would mean to have a "Charlotte" captain running about. Everyone is like: "OH NOOOOOOOOOO." Fucking pricks. Poor things are scared of me," she huffed comedically before glaring at him for patting her on the head. "False. You hate slaughtering pirates. You're the dull bookish type who loves paperwork. So be a dear and finish all of this." DeWolfe continued before placing a stack in front of him. "Well there's nothing interesting here. All a bunch of dick-wads and predictable "Absolute Justice" twerps. Nothing good or unique so while you're out "having fun" I'm entertained by the equivalent of watching paint dry," she paused before downing the rest of her Corona.

"What was that? I only pay attention to those that are significant." Marco teased, letting a grin appear on his face. Knowing that she disliked it, he patted her on the head again. "We both know you just want something here to interest you. If you find something like that, would you consider staying a Marine? Remain here as the Charlotte Marine Captain? Well, would you, Pinky?"

"Then I must be pretty damn important then because here you sit talking to me." she smirked before catching his hand as he attempted to pat her on the head. DeWolfe tsked. "Something interesting? And what might that be? Maybe I would. But it would have to be good. Not some dull pitch that bores me to tears...so what are you proposing?" the woman asked.

"Important? I guess you must be then." Marco stated, not making eye contact with DeWolfe as he withdrew his hand. "I'm not proposing anything. It's just that you're more interesting than the rest of the mundane fools." he finished, looking DeWolfe over. "In more ways than one, that's for sure." he added, still not maintaining eye contact with DeWolf. Silently, he cursed himself for displaying his feelings. That was something he had promised himself that he wouldn't do. Yet here he was, having displayed his affection for her.

"Interesting in more ways than one?" she questioned, drawing out each syllable on purpose. Teasing him for her own entertainment. "Oh ho. Is this what I think it is? Tell me Bullet, what are you foreshadowing? There's something on the tip of your tongue. What makes me interesting in so many ways??" she teased, enjoying his discomfort. It was clear that he had done something he promised himself not to do.

"I'm not foreshadowing anything!" he spat, much louder than he intended. He looked away, before beginning to mutter. "It's just that...you're rather attractive."

"But it's not just that. You're...better than the rest of sad, mundane, pathetic, and idiotic idiots that plague the base." he added, but louder than his previous statement. "That's it."

"I'm....attractive?" The snickers grew before emerging into untamed laughter. The woman was rendered incapable of speaking for a few minutes as she tried to rein it in with limited success.

"You," DeWolfe chortled, "find me attractive? Oh my gosh. It's happened everyone! Bullet is catching feelings for little ole pinky! Who knew this day would arrive. Bullet confessing his feelings." Her laughter died down into snickers.