*A/N*

The next couple of chapters will be written from Amby's POV again as I think it'll be more entertaining that way ~ you will have to be the judge of that, but just wait and see XD ~ her responding to Buggy's reactions will be funnier that way imo. But chapter 12 will definitely be from his.
Thanks again for taking the time to read/vote/comment etc, it helps keep me motivated! 🤡*

<<———————————>>

*Amby's POV*

"I swear if she keeps pushing me, she's going to be sorry! That sea cow is really gripping my shit!!"

"Hush, captain, or she'll hear you"

"GOOD! I want her to hear me!" Buggy continued to fume as you hastily steered him into his cabin, "and don't shush me, you cheeky little shit, I'm in pain here! I think I'm entitled to complain right now!"

You sighed heavily, accepting that there was no point continuing with this debate. You'd come to know the clown pirate well enough by now to realize that there was no reasoning with him when he was in one of these moods. And in his defense he was entitled to complain. You just didn't want him making an already tense situation even worse by angering Alvida further. Adding fuel to the already blazing metaphorical fire.

Following the commotion that had occurred up on the starboard side of the ship, Alvida had been far from pleased with the grisly scene she'd discovered, especially given the ongoing chaos that had ensued since the mast had broken. She had lost her temper with Buggy; demanding an explanation for finding not just one, but two, members of her crew injured, and caring very little about the injury  the clown himself had sustained. The pair had inevitably argued, and you'd beat a hasty retreat with your captain at the first available opportunity. In fact you'd actually spoken up and insisted he have his own wound tended to once the others were carted off below deck to be checked over. Thankfully, his self-preservation had won over his anger, so Buggy had been only to eager to get away from the female pirate captain.

Not that you liked Alvida at all, but you could kind of see things from her point of view

Yes, it was her crew member's behavior that had caused all the trouble, but they were her crew after all. And what else could one expect from pirates? Well, the worst kind of pirates anyway. Buggy was injured, but he'd arguably escaped relatively unscathed from the altercation in comparison to the permanent damage Heppoko and his witless brother had suffered as a result of Buggy's wrath.

Flopping down heavily on the edge of the bed without caring that his clothes were wet, Buggy scowled as you hurriedly fumbled to remove his gloves you were still wearing, which were now wet, blood stained and dirty. As you finally managed to pull your hands free from the grimy, wet material, you noticed how they were trembling perceptibly as a result of adrenaline and nerves.

"Take a deep breath" Buggy instructed, "....I don't want you passing out on me"

Having initially mistaken his command as a sign of concern, you couldn't refrain from huffing in annoyance. Whether you were annoyed with yourself for having been suckered-in for that split second before he'd clarified that his concern only applied to his own well being, you couldn't determine.

But you tamped down your irrational anger. Besides, he deserved to be cut some slack right now. He had been hurt after all - something that evidently hadn't happened to him in a long, long time.

Calming yourself, you sucked in a deep breath "I won't pass out on you. I'm not afraid of the sight of a little blood. I've seen plenty of it working the bar on a Saturday night, trust me!"

"A little blood is one thing, sweetheart. This is a LOT of blood, and knowing that it's mine is stressing me the fuck out!"

"Alright alright, captain please...I need you to calm down. It won't help matters you getting all worked up, your blood pressure will shoot up and then you'll bleed more"

Emitting a low growl, he grudgingly complied and fell silent. You then tentatively removed the blood soaked bandanna. His hand was covered in blood, it was dripping from his palm and running down his wrist. Raising your eyes back to his face apprehensively, you then noticed him  looking at you expectantly, as if you were supposed to know exactly what to do. But this wasn't a hospital, this was a cabin on board a ship, and what expertise did you have in first aid? None other than knowing how to clean a surface wound and stick a band aid on it.

"Earth to Amby. A little help here!" Buggy snapped, gripping his wrist tightly; his blood now dripping onto the floor.

"Will Alvida have any bandages? Is there like, a real doctor, on board—?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure if there is they'll have their hands full right now with Heppoko - no pun intended. And I sure as shit ain't asking Alvida for bandages, I'm not in the mood for her attitude. You're going to have to improvise!"

Improvise. Great.

Turning, you gripped a bedsheet and began ripping at the corner. The cotton was harder to rip than you'd anticipated, but you persisted and managed to tear a strip off the edge. Meanwhile Buggy was watching you with keen interest, in spite of his discomfort. You knew he was watching you. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn't dare look up at him. His scrutiny always made you feel nervous....even your skin seemed to prickle beneath the heat of his intrusive gaze.

Once you'd ripped what you'd deemed to be a sufficient amount of the sheet to use as bandages and a cleaning cloth, Buggy spoke again, "Rum, Amby. Quickly. It's in the clothes chest"

Nodding in agreement, you hurried to retrieve the bottle, "Good idea, alcohol will clean the wound, right?"

"Clean my wound? I need a drink, godammit!"

At that, your ire began to rise again, "Uh, I'd argue that under the circumstances, getting your wound cleaned up is more of a priority, wouldn't you agree, captain? Especially given the fact that you were yelling at me just a moment ago about your blood loss!"

"Alright already, I'll stop yelling and let you waste good liquor, and then..." he turned sarcastic eyes on you and gave a fake smile, before asking in a softer, sweeter tone ".....give me a damn drink, please, Amby darling"

Arching an eyebrow you walked back to him, brandishing the bottle of rum, "I wouldn't call using it to disinfect the wound a waste, but of course, captain"

"Thank you!"

Sighing, you gripped the cork and attempted to pull it out, but for some reason it stubbornly remained in place.

"It's stuck" you informed him as you continued trying to twist the cork in order to loosen it.

"Put some muscle into it. I can't do it one-handed! Come on! Usually I can pull it out easily even just using my teeth"

"Well perhaps I should hold the bottle for you and let you do that, because this damn thing isn't coming out easily now!"

Without thinking you repositioned the bottle closer to him in order for him to use his freakishly strong teeth to pull out the immovable cork, whilst simultaneously still twisting at it hoping it would loosen. It was then, that with one irritated, extra hand yank, the cork gave way. Only, you had put too much force into the motion, and with the extra momentum coupled with your closer proximity.....your elbow shot back and.....hit Buggy squarely in the nose.

"AAAAAGGGhHHHH!" He yelled, letting go of his wrist in favor of bringing his one good hand up to his bulbous red nose, "MY NOSE!!!! UGH! AND NOW YOU MADE ME SAY THE WORD!!!"

You gasped in complete and utter horror, not knowing whether to run for your life or fall to your knees and grovel in mortification.

"......I-I'm so....so sorry—"

"Ugh, not half as sorry as I am for bringing you with me on this trip! First my hand and now THIS!! You're going to be the fucking death of me you little shit!"

His words stung, especially given the guilt you were already carrying in relation to him having injured his hand. But this was Buggy. The flashy fool. In other words, you knew how prone he was to fits of melodrama. Taking into consideration the pain he was in you couldn't expect anything other than him lashing out, especially given his histrionic personality.

"I am really very sorry, captain...can I help—?"

He let out an anguished growl and quite literally stamped his booted foot, "Yes, you can help by keeping your distance, that way you can't cause me any further damage!"

"No, please captain, " almost spilling the liquor in panic, you chose to ignore his ranting and leaned down over him, "I didn't mean to do that."

"Oh I think you did. In fact, I'd be willing to bet you've been wanting to do that for some time. But instead of going for the throat, you went for my own personal vulnerable spot!" He grumbled, as he snatched up a piece of ripped bedsheet and dabbed precariously at the blood trickling from his left nostril.

Frowning, you shook your head vehemently  in disagreement "Don't be ridiculous, you know it was an accident" driven once again by the impulsive need to prove to him that his physical deformity didn't faze you in the slightest, you gently pried the cloth from his hand and resumed wiping away the last remnants of blood. "I'd never want to hurt you" you added, dabbing gently at the underside of his nose.

Actually, didn't you mean you'd never intentionally want to hurt anyone? Not just specifically, him. But wait, that was a lie. There were plenty of people who you'd willingly admit to wanting to hurt, Arlong being top of the list.

Oh shit. It was happening wasn't it? You were catching feelings for this damn clown.

Surprisingly, the clown in question had fallen silent as the grave now, like a balloon having lost all of it's air and heat. Even more surprisingly, he was allowing you to continue your attentive ministrations, in spite of him visibly shrinking back from you somewhat. You almost wanted to marvel at the way in which you'd seemingly tamed Buggy from snarling wild dog, to harmless pet puppy within mere seconds. His demeanor had miraculously transformed, becoming almost shy and boyish, and....there was even a noticeable pink hue dusting the high plains of his splendid cheek bones.

Wait, Buggy was.......blushing?!

"Are you...are you ok?" You reluctantly asked, once you finished and straightened; taking a much-needed step back. Your concern for his well being had instinctively overridden any fear you otherwise would've felt for having accidentally hit him in the nose - the part of him he was most self conscious and sensitive about.

Absently you found yourself wondering if it was extra sensitive, literally, but you didn't dare question him further and push the subject. It was nothing short of a miracle that he'd even permitted you to tend to it. Still, the idea that you could've caused him even more pain made your chest pinch.

"I will be....." he cleared his throat, "....as long as I get that drink now. I'll need it to numb the pain. You still have to check my hand yet, so if you can do it without assaulting me that would be great"

Smiling awkwardly, you handed him the bottle and watched as he brought it to his lips and downed a long swig of the potent liquid.

"I promise I won't do anything that'll hurt you if I can help it"

"Hm. I wouldn't put it passed you" he accused; though this time with a slightly teasing smirk adorning his handsome visage, before taking another strong measure of the rum.

Once he'd drank his fill, he reluctantly handed the bottle back to you so you could commence with sanitizing the wound on his hand. 

"Sorry" you said, soothingly as possible, as he hissed through his teeth like an angry cat; a grimace of pain crossing his features, "it's all done now"

Noticing the small wooden stool in the corner, you grabbed it and set it in front of him before taking a seat.

Buggy had scooped up the bottle of rum again, as if somehow knowing full well he was going to need it once you took hold of his hand and inspected the cut. It was deep, running right across the centre of his palm.

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you shook your head resolutely as you looked down at his hand, "You're going to need stitches"

"I figured as much. Well......I guess you'll just have to stitch it up for me"

"Me!?!"

"Well who else is here, Amby? Come on. You've been working on your sewing skills, now it's time to put what you've learned into practice!"

He reached toward the desk at the side of the bed and pulled open the drawer. After a moment of rifling through he pulled out a spool of thread and a needle, then proceeded to hand it to you.

"Buggy, I can't do this—"

"Aaggghh, just do it, Amby, I can't sew with my left hand, you'll have to do it!"

"It's not like I'm sewing on a damn button, captain, or darning socks!"

"Well think of me as the flashiest tapestry you're ever likely to work on!"

"Yes, that's the problem! I don't want to hurt you or mess it up!"

"I'm touched" he grinned sardonically, "but I have faith in you, that should count for something. You just need to have a little faith in yourself"

Wow. Now it was your turn to be touched, more touched than you ever would've expected to be; but receiving such praise from him made you feel validated.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, I really appreciate it but....if your hand gets infected and you die, I'm denying any part in this"

"Fine, whatever. I don't care!"

"But it'll still be my fault"

He heaved a long-suffering sigh; one that seemed to emanate from the very depths of his weary soul, "Look, if my hand gets infected and I die. then I'll be too busy being dead to blame you!"

"But how would I live with myself?"

"That wouldn't be my problem, but ok then, I'll still give you shit from beyond the grave. Cross my heart, I'll come back and haunt you if that'll make you feel better!"

"Oddly enough, it won't!"

"For the love of god, just get on with it, Amby! I'm losing precious blood here!"

"I've stemmed the blood flow"

"You're missing the fucking point, stemming isn't good enough, that's only a temporary solution!"

"Alright, alright...I'll do it.....just.....give me a second, ok?"

He seemed pacified by this for the moment, so you proceeded to clean his wound again, then took the needle and thread and set them out on the side of the bed beside Buggy. You couldn't get the right angle though, with his hand laid out on his own knee; you needed to see closer, so you automatically took hold of his hand and placed it on yours.

Ok, so now his hand was on your leg.

Oh hell.

How would it work with his bare arm draped across your bare leg like that? It hadn't occurred to you - because, why would it - that it would affect you the way it was. Now you felt like a deplorable person for finding the skin-on-skin contact so distracting but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Focus, Amby, focus!

But it was no use. If you wanted to remain calm and keep your hands from trembling then you realized you would need to reposition him.

"Uh, just hold on a second....."

"Another one?" He deadpanned, but you chose to ignore his sarcasm.

Standing, you grabbed a pillow from the bed, placed it on your leg then rested his hand on that. The other way probably would've worked better; your leg was more supportive than the soft surface of the feathery pillow, but....you couldn't have the back of his arm and hand touching your leg whilst you did this.

"It's going to hurt" you informed him, somewhat needlessly.

Buggy then surprised you by just laughing, as it to say "yeah, no shit"

Taking another deep inhale of breath, you slowly pierced his skin with the needle, and he immediately flinched; his injured hand jerking reflexively.

"Buggy, please, you have to hold still"

"I know, I know....." he growled through clenched teeth, ".....alright, I got this now...just....get on with it please"

Please?  You figured the pain had to be really bad if he was saying "please" without being sardonic.

"Do you want something to bite down on?" You scanned the room frantically for one of his numerous spare belts, but he shook his head resolutely.

"No.....it's fine"

Then you physically jumped, suddenly feeling his left hand curl around the back of your leg; gently gripping onto your calf. And in that moment you wanted to cry because the irony wasn't lost on you. You'd specifically put the pillow between your knee and his arm, and now he was touching your bare leg with his bare hand anyway!

Ok, breathe, just breathe. So what if he was holding onto your leg for support? He was trying so desperately hard to put on a brave face, he just needed some form of contact....or comfort. You weren't going to deny him that.

Swallowing the sudden thickness in your throat, you somehow managed to find your voice again, "S-squeeze as hard as you need to"

Fighting to steady your hand again - and your breathing - you resumed working whilst he watched you in absolute silence, only flinching slightly when the thread occasionally snagged a little.

Neither of you spoke. You tried to ignore him and concentrate solely on his wound and how it desperately needed closing, but he was leaning forward so close, close enough for you to feel his breath on your shaky hand every time he exhaled.

And he was exhaling a lot.

"You'll have a scar" you remarked, finally breaking the loaded silence; your voice nothing more than a quiet whisper, and you found yourself wondering where the rest of your voice had gone.

Buggy simply shrugged his left shoulder disinterestedly in response.

You pushed the needle in for the fourth time, but still your captain didn't let the pain show. You knew it must hurt, you were practically wincing on his behalf each time the needle pierced through his skin, so you couldn't help admiring his ability to hide the pain. The only telltale sign was the way his large hand gently squeezed your leg intermittently. And you wished you didn't feel so hyper-aware of the sensation. His touch felt as hot against your skin as a branding iron.

He was injured. He had a serious gash; blood now soaking into the pillow beneath his hand, and here you were, your thoughts incessantly returning to the contact of his bare hand on your skin.

You seriously needed to get a grip.

As if sensing your inner turmoil somehow, he suddenly looked up; your eyes accidentally locked for two seconds and you quickly looked back down. He wasn't looking at his hand at all now, he was staring intently at you. And his breathing had sped up considerably. Was it because you were hurting him, or.......because you were both so close?

"It's-it's almost done now—" your words trailed off at the sensation of his thumb now gently rubbing the side of your leg.

Was that deliberate? Was his hand absently moving now to distract him from the pain? It had to be.

Shit. Why couldn't he have just taken the belt to bite down on instead?

But then things got worse. Much worse....

For whatever the reason, Buggy then leaned forward and rested his head against your shoulder with a sigh. "Amby" he spoke your name painfully, which compelled you to immediately halt what you were doing.

You should ask him if it hurt too much, but would he admit it? He could ask you to give him a minute, but he didn't do that either. Perhaps he was too proud.

He didn't speak again so you finished the last stitch and knotted the thread.

It was over. Thank the stars.

Exhaling shakily you managed to say in a light and airy voice, "there. All done now"

He remained silent but eased himself back now: enabling you to breathe properly again at least. Feeling the need to put as much distance between you both as humanly possible, you seized the opportunity to rise to your feet. But Buggy didn't release the gentle hold on your leg, so you didn't pull away either. But then slowly, ever so slowly, his hand slid slightly higher; his fingers trailing around the back of your knee.

"Atta girl" his words came out slow and deep in a spellbinding, lulling tone that had the most peculiar effect on your body and senses, but in all honesty you couldn't say you disliked it.

"You're w-welcome, captain"

He hadn't thanked you exactly, but you got the distinct impression that's what his flippant acknowledgment had meant. Only....his tone of voice had sounded anything but flippant. And the way he was looking at you right now....

Holy hell

He flashed a slow smile that was alarmingly sexy, and gently squeezed your leg once more with his hand. Now you had no idea how you were still standing.

It had to be the alcohol, you reasoned, as your mind desperately tried to scramble around and regain some grasp on rationality. It was the rum he had consumed.....he had to be slightly drunk and not thinking clearly.

Ok, it was time to take decisive action yet again.

"You....you should perhaps go and speak to Alvida now, get it over and done with" you suggested cautiously, but with an assertiveness that you truly didn't feel, "she did say she wanted to discuss what to do next, regarding the damage to the ship."

Your proclamation certainly had the desired effect. As if by magic, Buggy's hand fell away and he pulled back as effectively as if you'd struck him. A fleeting pang of regret made your chest tighten, but you pushed the irrational feeling down, down, down; suppressing it along with all the other unwanted feelings you'd been experiencing today.

"......She did say that," he said leadenly, before smiling half-heartedly, "i suppose I better had. I am the quartermaster after all. She'll need my expertise"

"Undoubtedly" you eagerly agreed, scooting backwards as he got to his feet.

Grabbing a piece of the ripped sheet, he bound it around his injured hand and headed for the door. You had turned away; busying yourself with cleaning the blood off the floor. You heard the cabin door close and breathed a huge sigh of relief; as if the clown's very presence seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the room.

But now you were left alone with your shambolic, unwanted thoughts, left to ponder the unavoidable question.......

what the hell had just happened?!