Warning: There's some swearing if I can remember right.
! Soon as I seen her, shit, told her I'd pay for itLil' mama the baddest thing 'round and she already know it
! Donquixote Doflamingo has made a habit of trailing after Vice Admiral Tsuru like a dog on a leash whenever he visits Marine HQ.
It’s no secret that the Shichibukai is trying to catch the old strategist’s eye, although he goes about it less like an infamous criminal with 340 million bounty and more like a little boy with a schoolyard crush – taunting and teasing in hopes of getting her attention, even if it’s only for a brief moment. Tsuru, to her credit, never gives him the satisfaction of a reaction, either responding to his antics with distant civility or ignoring him altogether. The general consensus is that Doflamingo’s strange courtship is crashing and burning on a spectacularly consistent basis, but the pirate doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. He just keeps following Tsuru around whenever he gets the chance, doing whatever it takes to get the object of his inexplicable affections to look his way.
“Tsuruuuu,” he croons, sauntering after her on long legs during his latest visit to Marineford. “Did I ever tell you that you’ve got a great tush? Seriously, it should be a crime for a woman of your age to look as good as you do from behind.”
The vice admiral acknowledges the compliment with a noncommittal “Mmm,” not bothering to look up from the pile of reports she carries cradled in her arms.
“I love that you wear ties, you know. It makes you look so authoritative. It’s so hot,” Doflamingo continues, unfazed by the fact that she’s not paying him any attention. “But you know what I’d love best?” he asks, looming over her shoulder. “To see you with one of your sexy little ties keeping your wrists together, because, you know, that would even more hot…”
The odd pair moves steadily down one of Marine HQ’s tiled hallways – him still stooped over her small shoulder and murmuring stupid, crude suggestions in her ear, her placidly ignoring him and going about her business. They pass a gaggle of ensigns that press against the corridor walls as the Shichibukai walks by, whispering furiously amongst themselves and not quite brave enough to look straight at him.
“—believe the nerve of that guy.”
“Why does she allow—”
“—been following her around like this for months—”
“Isn’t she twice his age?”
Doflamingo’s head whips around at that particular comment, and he slows his peculiar, ambling gait to fix the group with an unnerving stare.
“You better take a headcount to make sure none of these little bastards disappear during the night, Vice Admiral,” he says, his mouth spreading into a toothy grin. He says it partially to scare the shit out of the already panicked junior marines, but mostly to get a rise out of Tsuru. He turns to catch the vice admiral’s reaction, eager for a reprimand or a brush off or anything else that will let him know that she’s paying attention to his bad behavior, but Tsuru is already twenty feet further down the hallway in quiet conversation with Vice Admiral Momonga.
“Tsuruuuu,” the warlord whines, forgetting about the ensigns entirely in his rush to catch up with her again.
“—hate to trouble you with this when you’re already busy, Tsuru-san, but your advice would be invaluable,” Momonga is saying when Doflamingo comes loping up behind the pair. The pirate notices that the mustachioed man is gallantly carrying the tall pile of files that had been in Tsuru’s arms a few moments ago and pouts. He had offered to carry them for her five minutes ago, but she had just ignored him.
“Of course. I understand,” Tsuru murmurs, as if the enormous, petulant Shichibukai behind her does not exist. “Come with me to my office, and I’ll see what I can make of it.”
Momonga nods and turns his head just enough to favor Tsuru’s companion with a suspicious glance. “Doflamingo,” he says gruffly.
Doflamingo returns the look with an unhinged grin. “Vice Admiral.”
Momonga’s expression of distrust becomes one of marked distaste, and he opens his mouth to say something else - probably along the lines of “What the hell are you doing here?” – but Tsuru has already neatly sidestepped them both and is continuing down to the hall to her office. The vice admiral subsides with a grunt and follows, Doflamingo trailing behind.
“Now then,” Tsuru says, easing into the chair behind her desk as the two men duck into her office. “Let’s see what you have for me.”
Momonga steps forward and sets Tsuru’s files on the corner of her desk, plucking one from the top of the pile and handing it to her. Doflamingo, meanwhile, has settled himself on the back of a chair with his feet resting on the seat cushion.
“We’ve already begun repairs on the Bridge of Hesitation at Enies Lobby, of course, but the Government is most concerned about the Gates of Justice. They want them stronger. More closely observed. Better manned,” Momonga says as the strategist skims through reports and diagrams.
“Well, they certainly have the funds to do that,” Tsuru replies, flipping a page. “But building them taller and stronger won’t make them impenetrable, Momonga, no matter what the World Government wants to believe.”
Doflamingo sniggers, as if Momonga had just been called out for saying something particularly stupid. It’s childish and completely unwarranted, because Momonga hasn’t said anything stupid, but the vice admiral can’t keep from shooting Doflamingo an irritated glance.
“That’s what I’ve told them,” Momonga replies, turning back to Tsuru. “But it seems they just want to keep throwing men at the problem.”
Tsuru flips another page. “And by ‘men’, you mean marines, not their own agents,” she says.
Momonga inclines his head. “Naturally.”
She sighs. “Unsurprising,” she says, leaving the report and looking up at Momonga. “What sort of advice are you looking for?”
“Advice on how to get the Government off my back.”
“Easy,” Doflamingo interrupts. “Just remind them that you’re an incompetent jackass. That buster call fiasco at Enies Lobby is fantastic proof.”
Momonga closes his eyes and counts to ten, but the Shichibukai is still there when he opens them. “Tsuru-san,” he says stiffly, “Perhaps it would be better to speak in private—”
“I may be able to influence the decision a bit,” the strategist says as if neither man had spoken. “But I can’t guarantee the result. The Government doesn’t like to get its hands dirty.”
“I’d like to get my hand’s dirty,” Doflamingo says. “And by my hands, I mean my dick. Wait. Actually, I mean my hands and my dick.”
“I would appreciate it, Tsuru-san,” Momonga grinds out between clenched teeth, shoulders stiff with the strain of not spinning around and punching Donquixote Doflamingo in the face.
“I’ll see what I can do,” the strategist replies, closes the folder, and hands it back to him. “Was there anything else?”
Doflamingo pipes up again before Momonga can open his mouth. “Hey, Tsuru,” he calls from his perch. “Once this knob’s gone, want to do it on your desk? On your back or from behind – your choice, babe.”
“Shut up, Doflamingo!” Momonga snarls and rounds on the pirate, his temper finally getting the better of him. The Shichibukai just grins and spreads his hands in anticipation of the fight he’s been spoiling for since Momonga carried Tsuru’s files for her.
“I will not permit brawling in my office,” Tsuru calmly interjects. She looks up from the document in front of her and fixes Doflamingo with a flat look over her reading glasses. “Settle down or leave.”
The effect her command and her sharp look have on him is instantaneous, making him giddily fold up on himself and sink into the seat of the chair on which he had previously perched. “I love when you boss me around,” he hisses rapturously, but Tsuru’s attention has already moved on to something else.
“Was there anything else you needed, Momonga?”” she asks again, rising from her seat.
The vice admiral shakes his head, his hands still balled into fists and a vein standing out on his forehead.
“Very well, then. If you’ll excuse me, I am quite busy today.”
Momonga nods curtly, turns on his heel, and marches out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Doflamingo is off his chair and behind Tsuru with his hands on her hips in a flash. “On your back or from behind?” he hisses in her ear.
“Neither,” the strategist says coolly. “But be a good boy and have a chat with the Gorosei for me while you’re near Mariejois.”
The Shichibukai's expression crumples and he presses his face into her shoulder like a child that has just been denied its favorite toy. “Tsuruuuuuu…"
Tsuru reaches up to pat his head before turning back to the files on her desk.
by lioneltheboss