Yawning you walk up to your door. The day had caught up to you, and you were going to sleep like a brick tonight. Reaching out to the door you realize it wasn't locked.

You freeze.

Every piece of you is on high alert. You step back from the door and start looking around. Something was putting your skin on edge and you couldn't tell what, but it's like someone is looking at you through a scope.

Better to run than to waste time trying to figure it out, and so you turn tail and bolt back down the street. The place closest to your house is Sanji's, but the café was closed by now. You could break in, but you weren't as practiced with Sanji's store as Law's. Since Law's was closer than Pops or Doflamingo's, Law's it was.

Still running as fast as you could you pull out your phone and hit the speed dial for Law's number. One ring, two rings, a click.

"Hey! Gonna be at your place, might be bad." You gasp, not because you were already out of breath, but because you were trying to conserve it.

"Need me to get you?"

"No."

"Need me to call Pops?"

"Yes."

"Anyone else?"

"Can't."

"... Shit, fine, I'll get ready for him too."

You hear shouting behind you as Law ends the call. You've managed to get a good head start at least. Skittering into a side yard you decide to go off road. If they were on foot you'd have the advantage most likely – unless it was local guys like Trouble's problem was two weeks ago - and if they were moving by car you'd need to avoid the streets anyway.

You slow a little, you don't have Trouble on speed dial yet, so you have to look for the number. Clicking the green button you resume your pace and wait.

Only one ring, well, you're not the only sucker in this relationship.

"Good even-"

"Hey." Your tone causes him to stop more than your interruption. " 'Member where I gave you your nickname?"

"Yes." There's a sharpness to his voice, and you know he understands enough.

"Gonna be there. If I'm not, ya need to find me."

"Where are you now?"

"Running."

"Who is it?"

"No idea." You answer shortly, then, "Hold on." You put the phone down and look around before booking it across a street, a glint of light slipping over you as you reach the far curb. "Fuck!"

You hold the phone up to your mouth as you speed toward a backyard fence, the sound of people yelling too close behind you for your comfort. "Can't hear you love, gotta run, need my air."

You snap the phone shut, shoving it in your pocket and leaping up to the fence. Grabbing the top you're up and over it in a single bound. You couldn't risk hanging around to know what the people after you were saying, so you didn't know if it was cops, gangsters, old enemies, or new ones.

You couldn't assume it was anyone after Doflamingo, your relationship was too new for people to be making that connection. You doubt the guy you pistol whipped had survived once Doffy's family had regrouped. It could be someone who was targeting Pops. You weren't a part of his family directly, but most all of that part of the city knew he and his boys looked out for you.

You had gotten into problems on your own as well, but nothing that was worth breaking into someone's home to jump them over. Unless it was someone with no sense.

You felt your stomach drop. It could be him. He had a legitimate reason to track you down, you had just figured that after two years, he'd accepted the loss and moved on. You mean, all you did was win big in his casino, refuse a dinner date, and then assault him when he wouldn't let you leave.

You'd done the whole thing under a false name since you were traveling with Marco and Thatch, and it was two damned years ago. You didn't even take him for that much.

You melt into your beloved alley ways and slip into the darkness. You stop and catch your breath, you aren't a marathon runner, and you've broken your one call rule, so you're more winded than usual. You go ahead and gasp and hack as soon as you've stopped to get it out of your system and then you force yourself to be quiet. Your lungs are burning, but if you make too much noise you'll be screwed.

Breathing in slower than slow and letting it out even slower than that, you focused on what you could hear over the pounding of your heart.

"Somewhere in here," came a voice, bouncing down the bricks of the alley. "Bitch is like an alley cat. Keep your eyes peeled."

Fuck, locals. Knowing it was locals didn't answer why. There's plenty of little too-big-for-their-britches operations who take on jobs when people don't want to pay Pops' rates. Though in this case, you imagine whoever spurred this on knew better than to reach out to Pop.

It was a twenty-minute train ride to get to the Newgate estate. It was a twenty-minute walk to Law's, but you've shaved a lot of time off that by running like a maniac. Even with Marco driving there were still too many minutes between the Boys making it to this area to start looking for you if you couldn't make it to Law's.

And when it came to fights and kidnappings, seconds could make or break an outcome.

Running the possibilities through your head, your chances weren't looking hot. If you could get one on one with someone, you'd have a better chance, but facing groups were risky, especially if they were armed in any capacity.

Your heart wasn't trying to beat its way out of your chest anymore, but you could see lights coming down the alley toward you. You couldn't make it quietly down the tight passage, and if you bounded off the trash to hit the fire escape, you could be shot. Even if it wasn't fatal, having a conversation with a bullet in your leg wasn't in your plans for tonight.

You crouch down to be even smaller than you are and tense the muscles in your legs. It feels like forever, but it's barely a minute by the time they are close enough. It is a least two people. You can handle two, maybe, if they aren't just looking to blow your head off. If it was three you aren't strong enough – you don't have the reach and mass needed to control that many average fighters.

There's a pause before they reached where you are, but you don't sit and wait. Either they're expecting you, or they're repositioning to ruin your advantage, and you couldn't wait around to accept either outcome.

You let yourself do what you knew how to do better when you didn't think about it. Leaping out into the wider alley you hear one man screech at the sight of you. Pops said your eyes would get an unsettling look, almost like actual cat's eyes, when you were really focused. Maybe that's why he screams when your eyes pass through the path of the flashlight.

You slam bodily into one man, fortunately you tackle the one who doesn't scream, so your other target was still in shock. Knocking the first guy down, you get up, driving your foot into his stomach with all your weight as you push off him and go for his buddy. You recognize this guy, not by name, but you were pretty sure he's in Vander's gang.

Deck 9 was a gang outside of town, mostly human trafficking, but they'd pick up scrap jobs that Pops didn't want or wouldn't do. Vander Decken, the 9th head of Deck 9, was a complete sleaze. Knowing he was involved didn't narrow down your concerns.

You hope the screamer has a glass jaw to go with those glass nerves and hit him square in the face. Turning back to the guy you'd knocked the air out of you pick up the bat he apparently dropped when you assaulted him. You glance back at the screamer and see rope.

No guns.

Kidnapping.

You twirl the bat enough to cut through the air once before you brought it down on the guy you'd knocked off his feet. It was a solid connect, but you felt the jolt go up your arms, you'd knocked the air out of him again, but you needed him down. You let the rebound power you back to the screamer who was getting ready to scream again. Bringing the bat down on his shoulder you heard something crack under the swing. Following up the attack you drive your foot into his stomach.

Something halts the bat as the screamer pukes and crumples to the ground. You notice the first guy is holding onto it. You both decide to drop the bat at the same time, and as you start to swing at him, he goes on the defensive.

"SHE'S OVER HERE!" He bellows as loud as he can, which was an impressive amount, considering you hadn't gone easy on him. You step in closer to him to really clock him, but once he steps back instead of trying to defend, you take advantage of the space created and run down the alley.

"She's going south! Cover the block! Don't let her slip through!"

Shit shit shit shit.

Deck 9 wasn't a big-time gang, but they had a decent number of members. These assholes know that Pops protects you, they have to be working for someone they think is bigger. Either that or someone offered enough money to make them all morons.

Time, you needed to buy time. You see a door. Checking it reveals that it isn't unlocked, but you have your picks. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline, but you aren't in sight of the loudmouth, and you didn't hear anyone else immediately nearby.

Don't think about the time crunch, you force your focus onto the picks. You pick locks. Pick the lock. There's no corner of Grandline that isn't accessible to you. The lock gives and you pull open the door and slip inside.

No alarm beeps, nothing goes off, and that is the most disappointing thing to happen so far. A legal commotion would've worked in your favor. You would've happily accepted being arrested for breaking and entering vs being kidnapped. Once your eyes adjust, you start creeping through the building. Far as you can tell it's empty, and as you crept around more it looked like some place that was being used for storage vs a business. You check sightlines and make sure you weren't going to light up the street by opening your phone.

You text Law, of everyone aware of this he was already where he needed to be and could coordinate better.

(Y/N): Deck 9. Stck N. D's # xxx-xxx-xxxx. 1 fight, gon by time (Translation: pursued by Deck 9, stuck north of clinic, here's Doflamingo's # to update him along with Pops. Had 1 fight already, going to buy time.)

You send it and close the phone, you've been as concise as possible, and you know Law would understand. No sense waiting for a reply, Law knew better, and apparently so did Doflamingo, because you didn't have any missed calls or texts from him. The phone was on silent, but the gods of luck were cruel, so it was always best not to risk it.

You manage to creep your way to a set of steps when you hear the door you'd broken into burst open.

"Hide 'n' seek's pissing me off (Y/N), come along nicely." Growls a voice you were surprised to hear. The main man Vander Decken himself. Best case scenario, someone paid him to get you, worst-case scenario, he'd decided at some point that you liked him – all on his own – and this was personal.

You hear voices at the front of the building and swear silently. No sense being quiet, you bounded up the steps, yelling over your shoulder. "Pops is gonna be big mad, Decky!"

"He'll get over it when you accept me, kitten!"

Your stomach twists. Not only was it the worst scenario, but how dare he use that word. Decken had plenty of corpses in his closet, as do most underworld folks, you were sure. But Decken's body count was almost exclusively comprised of the women who had turned him down, and a few who had accepted him.

"What gave me away?" You ask. If you play along maybe you can drag out this perverse game of cat and mouse and avoid being murdered.

"Tsumi saw you at the carnival, kitten, accepting a gift from someone."

How'd you miss Wadatsumi?! Oh, right, you caught sight of Smoker and got over focused.

"All the years after we first met, you never went on a date with anyone, and then you do something in public like that to fan my jealously." There was a dark glee in his voice. "If you wanted me to chase, kitten, you only had to ask."

Gods-be-damned, it doesn't matter what you say to Decken, he's going to take it as bad news and you're going to be screwed. You were as high as you could get, and all you could do was hope that your little conversation was loud enough to mask that you had run straight up the stairs after your first question. You dropped to all fours to distribute your weight and avoid creaking anything creaky.

You stay in that position for a moment, catching your breath and trying and hear where Decken and his crew were on the floors below.

"Check all the rooms on each floor, keep in sight of each other, she's a feisty kitten."

You feel your stomach knot. You had maybe two minutes before all those extra boots got to your floor. That might be enough time, it might not. You test your capacity for silence and crawl away from the steps. Every second you could keep your location unknown, the better. If you could make it into a street-side room, you could at least see what was waiting outside.

Four-stories up wasn't impossible to safely scale. Not your first choice, but if Decken feels trapped by anyone, his M.O. would be to kill you first, to make sure you stayed his. You purse your lips at every possible sound, caught between being quiet, and needing to be efficient. The boots were louder, you had maybe a minute to spare.

You get into a room without causing a commotion and peek out the window. There wasn't hardly anyone out there, but it was a lot faster for them to run down the stairs, than for you to scale your way down safely.

Looking around a smile hits your lips for the first time since you started running.

You throw open the window and dump the fire-escape ladder over the side. It wasn't long, but it was enough to get you halfway past the 2nd floor. You follow after the steps, descending from the outside. You're just starting to hear noise from inside when you look down at the few guys waiting below. You keep looking down at them as you descend, trying to catch the gaze of the nearest one so you could give him a reassuring smile.

"One of you nice gentlemen needs to catch me! Decken's orders! Gotta give 'im a proper chase." When you reach the bottom rung, you jump at the nearest guy, who is still trying to sort out what the hell you're talking about – poor guy is caught between keeping his twisted boss happy, and not getting duped.

Realization lights up in his eyes when you twist to land feet first, but he wasn't fast enough to react. Your feet slam into his chest, his arms still half-out as though he was actually going to catch you. You land hard, and he lands harder than you, but even tumbling off him you could feel your shoulder take the most of the shock as scraps and bruises dotted the rest of you.

You get to your feet with two angry guys circling closer, and an exceptionally angry Decken bellowing from the 4th floor window. You couldn't make out what he was saying because he was so spitting mad, but that meant neither could his guys.

You go for the armed one first. You move better than he swings and get inside his reach. Since you're low already, you grab him by the belt and lift him up before shoving him back. You land on top of him, and his head hits the pavement enough to ring his bell, giving you the second you needed to grab the pipe he was holding.

You turn toward guy number two just in time to catch the swing of a bat with your new pipe. You grunt at the force of his strike; it's almost enough to push you back. You imagine he's holding back because if he murders you instead of letting Decken do it, then Decken might kill him for it. You step back to break the lock and swing. You don't have good footing, so you don't connect as well as you want. You get a grunt out of him, but you didn't knock him off his game.

You're stuck. You couldn't shake him, and more men were already coming out the front door. You take a deep breath and set your feet this time. It's a good thing a modified pipe was Sabo's favorite weapon, so you had a decent idea of how to wield it effectively, between sparring with Sabo and being taught by him.

Just like with the alley you went full aggression. The name of the game was still 'buy time', and if you could make these guys think twice, you'd buy a few precious seconds. You yell and attack the nearest guy with gusto, swinging hard and fast. You catch him off guard when you knock the bat out of his hand – you think he expected you to back off now that reinforcements were here.

Your second swing catches him in the ribs and crumples him to the ground. You turn toward the guys slowly inching closer to you and swing a few times widely to shove them back, before turning toward the one who bravely – read: stupidly - chose to be closer than the others. You drive the pipe straight at him like a spear, crashing it into his gut hard enough to make him puke.

After that the brawl goes wild, more guys than you could clock rush you and someone gets a lucky shot and breaks a bat against your thigh. Your leg buckles and you're effectively dog piled. You kept struggling, but aside from a few seconds all it earns you was a dislocated shoulder, a split lip, a pavement scrap on your face, and a kick to the stomach. You keep fighting despite it, until someone cracks you over the head with an unbroken bat.

That rocks your world enough that you lose your will to fight completely. Two guys hold you by either arm, keeping you on your knees in the middle of the street as Decken approaches. Your entire world at that moment is hazy pain, with smatterings of sharp pain, like from the dislocated arm that was currently being man-handled.

"I zot you wanted a chase." You slur up at Decken, your mouth's full of a coppery taste, you might've bit your tongue at some point, but everything hurt too much to tell.

Whatever Decken might've wanted to say was cut short as the street filled with cars. You recognized Pops' cars, and you were positive you knew who was in the SUVs on the other side of Decken's crew.

Texting Law had paid dividends.

"Tol' ya." You flash a bloody smile up at Decken. "Pops' pissed."