Summer was ushered into the house, guided by the persistent man behind her. He pushed at her shoulders, not unkindly, so she walked down the hall. He removed her coat from her, hanging it on a coat rack by the door and chatting the entire way.
"We've had very few visitors these days, what with that big shopping district put into place. Most people forget we're still here! Oh, where are my manners? My name's Giles. Would you like a cup of tea, or hot cider perhaps? I believe there's a tray of cookies hot out of the oven as well, or if you'd like-"
Summer's head was still spinning from the bewildering pace at which she'd been effective stripped down to her casual clothes and how quickly the man talked. Almost immediately, he turned her into a sitting room where a large fireplace and three large armchairs sat. The room was ornately furnished, in an old-time homely way, but the first thing that caught her eye was the woman sitting in one of the chairs.
She looked quite frail, almost drowning in her large petticoat and skirts. Her face was wrinkled with age but her…aura, as Summer could only describe it, gave off that feeling that she was young and alive. On her head of dark red hair sat a small sunhat, though the room itself was rather darkly lit. She cracked a motherly smile as Summer was pushed inside.
"Please, come in, my dear." She picked up a pipe from the table beside her chair, taking a long drag from it and puffing out waves of smoke. It took a moment for Summer to realize that Giles had left the room and she wasn't being pushed anymore. Taking a hesitant step into the room, she cleared her throat.
"Are you…Mrs. Mortimer?" She asked, recalling the sign on the front of the house.
"I am. I assume Margaret told you about my little shop?" When Summer nodded, she chuckled. "Her and her hens. Her calling birds are quite loud, despite only having four of them. Keeps me up all night, some nights! She's a good-hearted woman, though." She seemed to notice the girl's shaken appearance. With a chuckle, she waved her towards he seat. "Oh, don't mind Giles. He's a rather…rambunctious man. Please, do take a seat."
Rambunctious seemed to describe her as well. Deciding that she wasn't in any immediate danger, except for getting her ear talked off by these rather scatterbrained people, she took a breath and walked over to the chair. It looked rather comfy, which she found to be correct as soon as she sat down. With a contented sigh, she let herself relax in the fabric.
"I take it you're looking for a gift for two of your friends? An engineer and a pirate Captain?" She picked up a piece of paper from the table, it had previously been folded in half and slightly crumpled and-Summer's eyebrows shot up, hands digging through her bag pockets.
"How did you-?" She started, staring at the paper, which now looked identical to her shopping list, in alarm. Had Giles stolen it and given it to the woman? But the man hadn't even stepped in the room.
"Now, now, don't be afraid. Just a simple parlor trick, mind you." The woman reassured, giving another smile and a low chuckle. "Girls your age shouldn't be so skittish."
"How do you know who they are?" The woman shook her head.
"You're part of a pirate crew, my dear, and a well known one to boot. You don't really think I wouldn't know someone from Mr. Trafalgar Law's crew when I saw them, would you?" Summer pursed her lips. Mrs. Mortimer hadn't really answered her question, but for the sake of sparing any more confusion, she let it go.
"Now, back to the matter at hand. You're looking for gifts, is that right?" Summer nodded, and the woman continued. "Well, I need to know a little bit about these people personally before I can help you. Will you tell me a little bit about them?"
Summer blew out a long breath. "What exactly do you need to know?"
Mrs. Mortimer grabbed a notebook from the table, which Summer swore wasn't there before, and the pen next to it.
"Oh, what they love to do, how deep your friendship is, their dreams and goals."
"Hmm…" Summer thought long and hard about her nakama, deciding to start with Penguin first. "Penguin is really nice, funny and smart. He loves fixing things, working with machines and whatnot. Oh, and he's a big pervert, but not in the creepy kind of way."
Mrs. Mortimer scribbled everything, a small grin on her face. "Penguin is a rather strange name, don't you think?" Summer laughed.
"Yeah, a little."
"You say he's a pervert? What are his preferences?" Summer frowned, not expecting that question. Just then, Giles emerged from the hall, carrying a tray with tea and pastries of some kind. Mrs. Mortimer brightened.
"Oh, Giles, thank you dear." He set the tray on the coffee table in between the three chairs, pouring them each a cup.
"Sugar?" He asked Summer. She'd never had tea before but decided that sugar in her drink would probably be a good idea. He made the drinks and dished them out before taking a seat in the third chair. Back to the matter at hand, Summer wondered aloud at the question.
"Uhh…preferences? I guess…he likes, women's underwear? They're constantly trying to raid my drawer." She thought back to the last unsuccessful raid, with her threatening them with slow acting poison in their meals for a weak.
"I assume you put them in their place, yes?" Smirking, Summer nodded. "Very good. A strong woman is the key to any tightly-knit group. She keeps them on their toes, you know.
"Now, what does Penguin dream of?" Summer sat there, stuck.
"I…really don't know actually." With a chuckle, the woman placed her notebook back on the table and picked up the large leather-bound book that was there. Summer frowned.
'I swear that wasn't there before. Where did it come from?"
"Well, that's not a problem. Hmm…let's see here…" She opened the book, tracing her finger down the yellowed pages. Her eyes squinted, trying to read the words from the orange light of the fire. Summer didn't understand why she didn't turn on a light, but wasn't going to say anything. She looked deep in concentration.
"Paul…Penelope…Penguin, ah yes, here we are." She positioned the book better to see, and read from within. "Penguin's dream is to win the heart of a woman he loves and create the world's most deadly battle machine." She read with a chuckle, closing the book with a dull clap. She set the book on the table and picked up the notebook again.
"To…where did you get that? How do you know that stuff?" Summer asked, pointing at the book. What was most surprising to the blonde was how eerily alike her friend and what she claimed his dream was. It sounded just like him, but how could she know that? Mrs. Mortimer chuckled again, smoking from the pipe, and suddenly Summer wasn't so sure the woman before her was as honest as she seemed.
"Oh Summer, my dear, it's my job. I make sure that dreams are fulfilled. I'm the dream oracle."
Law left the sports shop with two pairs of shoes: one for himself and one for Summer. He carried the boxes in front of him, but they were wrapped in plain wrapping paper so no one would know what they contained. Bepo walked next to him, carrying his own presents. Both of them had fulfilled their list of names for the exchange, now they just had to finish wrapping them. Well, except for Law, who had to get Bepo's fish.
"Reid should be done with decorations." Bepo commented. Law nodded, trying to calculate when he could pick up Bepo's fish. With the bear's sense of smell, it would be nearly impossible to mask the smell of the fish, making any attempt to hide the gift worthless. That was another aspect Law had to take into account. Perhaps he could take some of the cologne from one of the men's quarters, or some of Summer's perfume and spray the outside of the box.
The two rounded the corner of the square, and the sub was in sight. Docked at the harbor, he saw a young boy talking to two of his men.
"Please, mister! It's for my mother!" He heard the boy plead, barely holding back tears.
"Sorry kid, but we have a job to do." Narrowing his eyes, Law approached the scene.
"What's going on?" Cameron, one of the maintenance men onboard, gestured to the boy.
"He's insistent upon cleaning the hull, to earn money for his family."
"Take these onboard." He said to Bepo, handing the boxes to his first mate. Law turned to the boy, who was trying his hardest not to succumb to the tears that threatened to fall.
"You want to clean my ship?" He asked, and the boy nodded silently. Cocking his head to the side, he crouched to the ground. "Why?"
The boy sniffed. "My mother's really sick and I need to buy medicine so she can get better. But we don't have any money, so I have to work for it." His hat, which was a few sizes too big to fit on his head properly, hid his eyes, but Law knew they showed a desperation that someone who hadn't lived in a sort-of hell couldn't understand.
This boy, he was too similar to himself, and Law didn't like it.
"What's your name?"
"Christian, sir."
With being similar to him, he knew exactly what he was going through. The desperation to treat someone you love, but unable to do so, the feeling was agony.
"Where's your father?" The boy sniffed, lowering his head an inch.
"He died when I was three." Of course. Crouching down, Law decided on his course of action.
"I expect perfection. No slacking off, no spots missed, and I expect you to be done by tomorrow morning." He said, and it took a moment for the boy to realize that he was being allowed to work.
"R-really?" His face lit up, and without hesitation, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the Surgeon of Death's neck, surprising him with the unwanted hug. Law frowned, unhappy with the amount of happy feelings this town seemed to promote.
"Why aren't you getting to work?" He said, prompting the boy to let go of him. With a determined salute, the boy grabbed his cleaning equipment.
"It'll be spotless by the time I'm done!" Christian ran off to start his task. Standing, Law brushed snow off of his knee, and the two crew members looked to Law.
"Well, if he's gonna clean it, what are we supposed to do?" Cameron asked.
"Have you both gotten your gifts?" They shook their heads. "Now would be a good time, while you aren't working." Sharing a glance, the men shrugged and set down their tools.
The two left, and Law could hear him excitedly chattering to himself as he prepared to clean the side of the submarine.
"…she'll be alright and after she's better I can save up the rest to pay back Dr. Jolly! But what if I don't have enough? Oh! I can just clean another ship or two!"
Law's interest piqued, and he decided to pay this 'Dr. Jolly' character a visit.
After all, he was feeling rather generous that day.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
