After Roci left, the day passed slowly. It has been a while since you'd been so hungover. Law brought your blanket and pillows out so you could be comfortable on the couch. While you rested he cleaned the kitchen, making sure not to put your chef knives and good pan into the dishwasher. You quietly watched him move around the apartment. When he was done with his chores he came back in to check on you.

“How's your head?” He asked taking a seat on the edge of the sofa next to you.
“It still hurts.” You murmured.
“Scale of one to ten.” He prompted.
“Six?” You answered as he checked the time on his phone.
“We can do another round of NSAIDs. Do you think you can handle a sports drink?”
You scrunched your nose, “Just water please?”

After giving you meds and water he reclaimed his previous seat.

“Are you comfortable? Is there anything else you want me to get?”
“Will you lay with me?” You sat up slowly.
“We won’t fit.” He looked at the space between you.
“We will,” you patted the cushions, “look, you lay on your back and I’ll squeeze in right here.”

Law chuckled and did as you asked. You made sure he was settled before lying on your side between him and the back of the couch. After nuzzling into his shoulder, you pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you.

“This is nice.” He shifted a little under you, “Should we put on one of your chef shows?”
“Or something you would like.” You yawned.

He reached for the remote on the coffee table and eventually landed on a true crime docuseries.

“Did you pick this because you think I’ll like it?”
“Do they creep you out? It might be weird but I like them.” He answered.
“No, I don’t mind them. I guess I still just don’t know all of the things you enjoy.” You shied away briefly, “Also, I’m starting to feel like an asshole for never letting you have control of the TV.”
“It’s fine,” He chuckled, “I like the things you watch too and our schedules don’t always allow time like this.”
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t very open to time like this.” You hid your face in his shirt.
“I wasn’t either.” He rubbed your back.
“Thanks for not hating me.”
“Honestly, I don't think I could.” He kissed your scalp.

The bakery was full of clients on a Saturday afternoon. The usual Pacific Northwest weather was taking a break. Warm sunshine spilled through the windows lighting up the display counters that didn't have a child's face pressed against it. Warmer weather meant the seasonal treats were going to change. That always brought in a new crowd.
You were in the back doing inventory, getting ready for your weekly order.

“Uh F/N?” Usopp rounded the corner and skirted past the walk-in.
“Yo.” You called back flipping to the next page on your clipboard.
“There's someone here to talk to you.” There was an uneasy edge to his voice.
“Someone complaining?” Your brows knit as you lead the way back to the storefront.
“I-I’m not sure.” He answered following you closely.

Then you saw her. Her teal hair was in a fishtail braid hanging over her shoulder. Half lidded eyes swayed in your direction and narrowed.

Fuck.

You took a deep breath and approached with as much confidence as you could muster.

“Mrs. Newgate,” you offered your hand, “how can I help you today?”
“Is there somewhere we can speak more privately?” She ignored your gesture leaving you to retract your hand.
“Uh, sure,” you tried to ignore the pit in your stomach, “my office is this way.”

After shutting the door to your office you realized this may not be the best space to have a conversation, considering everything that happened with her husband the night before their wedding. Now every place your half naked body was slammed against was practically glowing. Do you sit at the desk where every item that fell to the floor as he thrusted into you is on display?

Girl.
Get it together.

“Please, have a seat.” You gestured to the leather chair in the middle of the room, “Congratulations by the way.”
“Thank you.” She murmured curtly.
“What can I do for you?” You chose to lean against your desk.

Her green eyes moved around the room for what felt like an eternity, “I know what happened here.”

A frigid chill bolted down your spine.

She continued, “Lucky for you, Mama doesn't.”
“But?” You didn't even know you'd said it out loud.
“I want you to stay away from Marco.”

What?

“Tell him that.” You scoffed.

Her perfect face twisted in either irritation or confusion - probably both.

“I know you met him at the lake house and had him come out here.” She accused.
“The lake house was weeks ago and I told him then I was done speaking to him.” You explained, “I can't believe that idiot is blaming everything on me.”
“He doesn't know I know And he won't.” She lowered her tone, “I don't need him to tell me anything. The Charlottes know everything that happens in this city. Now your carelessness has the government sniffing around.”

You shivered.

This entire time they'd been watching you? Why did your activities even matter to them?

“This feels like a threat.” You leaned forward and crossed your arms.
“It is.” She replied simply, “Mama has worked very hard and finally got a Newgate.”
“What?”
She stood and straightened her dress out, “This conversation stays in this room. We'd hate to get your little doctor involved.”
“Right, sure.” You grumbled already gnawing on your bottom lip.

With that she sashayed out of your office only stopping to grab an order she'd put in before coming back to casually threaten you.

“That's exactly what she said?” Law asked, opening the take-out container and putting half the entree on a plate.
“Finally got a Newgate.” You repeated, sitting on the opposite end of the table shaping gum paste into different imperfect tulip petals.

Your fiance processed this information while splitting the entree he'd picked for himself onto your plate as well. He'd learned as the two of you got more comfortable together that you liked to sample his order. He didn't mind, you loved food and so he never picked the same dish as you. You also never ordered something he didn't like - so your meals could be split evenly.

“You said they were watching you.” He confirmed, setting the plate and utensils in front of you, “Break time.”
“Thank you,” you finished the petal you were working on, “It's weird right? Why would I be on their radar?”
“I don't think it's you actually.” He moved his plate down to sit across from you.

You hummed questioningly, mouth already full.

“I think it's him they wanted to watch. You unfortunately got caught.”