"I'm not horny," Marco smirked lazily as he fluidly switched into phoenix and the bird from along with it, "Perk of being married. Besides just be grateful you missed spring here. I will never get used to that. Okay, I'm jumping first. Don't leap until I'm ready to catch you. We don't need a repeat of that other incident. My neck isn't a good place to break falls."

Marco glanced at Thatch from the window and quickly etched the sight into his mind. Thatch really did look older. To match the aged scar on his back from Blackbeard, and five years in this world. It was strange. Marco had been away from his nakama for a long time now, but Thatch was the one he really had missed the most. His father and Ace, Marco had been able to see during that time, but Thatch he'd really believed was gone forever. And more, Thatch had been more than just his best friend and brother and fellow commander for years. He'd made Marco who he was now, just as much as Whitebeard had. But where Edward Newgate had been seventy-two years old, Thatch was young yet. Had Whitebeard been thinking of Thatch when Squardo tried to sacrifice himself? Marco had.

"I'll always catch you," Marco promised quietly before he jumped out. It was probably a strange thing for someone else to say, but he knew that Thatch knew that Marco was always a little weird. Price of being a phoenix and well, Marco.