Apparently not. They came in stealth, this time, pulled alongship in a tiny row-boat, just big enough to hold several men, and eventual treasur. They boarded on the starboard side, in shadow and silence, crept slowly into sight. Brandishing several heavy weapons, and armed quite literally to the teeth.

They crossed the deck just as Sanji emerged from the kitchen, a lovingly prepared tray of iced-tea and orange slices in his hand. An ominous shadow loomed over him, and he looked up to find himself surrounded.

"Shiiiit." He groaned, irritated more than anything, and gently set the tray aside. "I thought we took care of you assholes this morning."

Sounds of fighting commenced around him. He paid them no heed, having more important worries at present.

"We've come back for your treasure, pretty boy." The largest one encroached meaningfully. "We wouldn't mind getting a cook in the bargain, though."

Sanji pulled on an expression of mock horror, remembering his incriminating apron. He shrugged it off, shoved his hands in his pockets, then proceeded to wipe the deck with the lot of them. Back-flipped, spun and kicked; too too easy. They were so surprised by his incredible--if he did say so himself--grace, they neglected to defend themselves. It was over in a flash, and Sanji hit the deck with a thump, hands still in his pockets.

"Shiiit. Was that all?" He looked around him, surveying the five unconscious bodies at his knees. "You don't need a cook, you need a diet." He spat.

"Sanji!" Zoro called to him from across the deck. "You okay over there?"

"Fucking peachy, don't come over here!" Sanji yelled back, twisting round to examine his drinks. Slumping with disappointment. There was now a fine layer of grit and dirt floating on top; same with the oranges, but those could be washed. The tea however... "It's ruined." He sat down heavily. "I made this tea especially for Nami-san."

Zoro sauntered over, dirt-smudged and sweaty. He grabbed two of the unconscious raiders by their ankles, and made to drag them away. "Hey, don't look so down. You can always make more." Then he grinned a cocksure grin, and went about his work.

The sun was at its highest point, backlighting Zoro for a brief stark moment, burning his image onto Sanji's retinas. Bare-skinned, tan, scarified. Standing over him forever and ever, grinning that grin. Sanji rubbed at his eyes, hard; and when he opened them again, Zoro was out of sight.

With a start, Sanji realized his heart was pounding, rabitting in his chest like it wanted out. And it wasn't from the fight. "Damn-it. I told you not to come over..."

After they'd dispatched the rest of the unconscious and moaning raiders to their ship, tying many up for good measure, the straw-hat pirate crew returned to their previous occupations. The very serious business of relaxing.

Zoro hit his hammock running, Luffy returned to his station on the prow; and Nami sank into her customary chaise lounge by the steering lever. Sanji had slunk back to the galley to prepare a fresh batch of tea, and Usopp had followed, presumably to make a nuisance of himself.

"How irritating is that?" Luffy grumbled "We'll never get anywhere if people keep attacking us for no good reason." He fanned himself with his hat, sweating under the full mid-day sun.

Zoro, for his part, stretched languorously in his hammock, lazing like some sated feline. He shrugged. "Hn, what're you gonna do?"

Luffy waxed philosophical for a moment, and shrugged in agreement. He sighed. "Right. What _are_ we gonna do? Not worry about it now, that's for sure!" With that, and a big stupid grin, he flopped onto his back, and shifted his hat down over his eyes.

Sanji returned momentarily, bearing a fresh tray of iced-tea and orange slices. Usopp dogged his heels like some skinny, overgrown puppy--for a change. Usually it was Luffy doing the following, but it seemed he'd grown bored of that lately. Or grown out of it. Sanji wasn't one to complain; he didn't mind company, so long as the company kept their hands to themselves, and didn't mess with his utensils. Or try to steal ingredients, as Luffy did. What was the point in cooking it all for him, Sanji often wondered. He'd eat whatever components there were, regardless.

Usopp was well behaved enough, kept his hands to himself. However, he hardly shut up; from the minute Sanji pushed into the galley, to the minute they both came back out.

"...and one of its toes could feed an entire village for days. I know, I was there." Usopp proclaimed proudly, jabbing a thumb at his chest.

"Of course you were." Sanji muttered placatingly. He had to admit to himself, as irritating as the constant blather was, Usopp's stories seemed to improve with each telling. "But I thought you said it didn't have feet?"

"Oh, that was last time." Usopp blurted, catching himself too late. Freezing for a guilty second. "Yabaiiii...I'm found out!"

Sanji laughed, startling Zoro upright in his hammock.

"Oi, cook, what's so funny?"

Sanji set the tray down and shrugged. "Your face." He said, somewhat lamely. That baka swordsman hadn't bothered to clean himself after the fight. His golden skin still glistened, shiny with sweat, smudged with dirt; a small bloody scrape on his cheek that Sanji hadn't noticed before.

He wasn't sure why this should irritate him so. But it did. For all of Zoro's bullshit about becoming the world's strongest swordsman, he sure didn't seem to take too good care of himself. Or he would've cleaned off that scrape. And Sanji realized he was staring, at Zoro barely a foot away.

"Sanji, hellooo..." Zoro, who was waving a hand in front of Sanji's blank, dazed face.

"Want...tea?" Sanji stammered, cigarette hanging perilously from his bottom lip.

Zoro frowned. "Are you feeling okay? You look a little sunstruck..."

Sanji blinked hard, and rescued his cigarette. "The word is 'sunstricken', dumbshit." He snapped irritably, before grabbing himself a glass of tea, and sulking over to where Nami stood. She ignored him as usual.

"Fuck you too," Zoro called after, far too cheerily. "Thanks for the drinks."

"Nami-san, I prepared this tea specially for you, with love!"

"Just set it over there."

"Right away, Nami-san."

Zoro took a sip of his tea, and called out "I think you left the 'love' out of my tea, Sanji...it doesn't taste very irritating."

"You wouldn't know what love tasted like, not if you had an entire glass full." Sanji sniffed. "Besides, my love is reserved only for Nami-san."

"Eh?" Nami turned, smiling sweetly. "Sanji, if you really love me, why don't you go over the list of provisions for this month. Make sure I didn't leave anything off."

Sanji clasped his hands together, and gave a rather unmanly squeal. Zoro made a noise, nudging Luffy with his elbow. Luffy tipped his hat back, and, while Zoro wasn't looking, quickly snatched the glass from his hand. He drank half, and Zoro never batted an eye. He seemed quite preoccupied with something.

"Tch. One of these days, that guy's gonna have a conniption. And for what? Nothing, I tell you." Zoro muttered, Luffy turning his head to watch. They both laughed, and Zoro shook his head. "Poor idiot."

Zoro went to sip his tea, only to discover an empty hand. He bristled, and wrenched his stolen drink away from Luffy. "Oi! Quit fucking around!"

Luffy smacked his lips and flopped back. "You were right, Zoro, that didn't taste like love at all! More lemony than anything..."

And so, as Nami steered the ship due West, Sanji sat tucked away under the shade of an empty hammock; wearing stylish tinted spectacles, and going over the list with a very critical eye. The better to avoid Zoro and his bare, taunting skin. He swore, the man had less decency than an animal, walking around like that. So unfair of him, too, trying to compete with Nami-san. The whole thing was enough to give Sanji a head-ache.

Usopp, ever-present, unshakable, sat on a crate behind Sanji, reading over his shoulder with grave concentration. Ever so often--to Sanji's growls of irritation--he'd suggest some item perhaps left off, reaching past Sanji's face to point.

"Sanji-san, how about--"

"Usopp?" Sanji interrupted, with ominous calm. "Kindly keep that fucking hand to yourself...unless you'd like it used as an ash-tray.

Sanji, with that, dipped into his shirt pocket and fished out a fresh cigarette. He lit it with quick practiced movements, and continued surveying the list.

Usopp carefully retracted his hand, mid-reach, and went back to scrutinizing Sanji's list. "Cured figs," he said with some gravity. "I think we definitely need--"

Sanji snarled and flicked ash. "Kono~bakayarou! I'm the one who decides what gets added to this list, not you! Now, either sit still and shut up, or go somewhere else. It's too hot for this bullshit right now."

Zoro, from his hammock, sounding about half-asleep, "Please don't fight, you two. S'too god-damn hot for me to get involved..."

"Ah I wasn't trying to start anything--it's just that I'm sooo bored!" Usopp complained, on the tail of a long sigh.

"Fine, be bored, I don't care. Just go do it someplace else," Sanji shook ash from his paper. "Your endless stream of hot air isn't helping me in this heat."

"Urusai! Why do you have to go and be such an asshole?"

"ASSHOLE?! I'm not the one breathing in my ear, am I?"

"Wah? That made absolutely no sense..."

Luffy managed to lure Usopp to safety with a deck of playing cards, just before Sanji snapped.

Things seemed to settle down after that. For the most part. The two continued to snipe at each other, from a safe distance, until Usopp went a little overboard, and ended up scrambling for the safety of the crow's nest.

Sanji railed at him from the deck, until Zoro crept up on him, unnoticed, and slapped him sharply across the shoulders.

"Ititite!!!" Sanji cried, dropping his cigarette. "What the fuck was that about?"

"You woke me."

Sanji hissed, and awkwardly tried to rub between his shoulder-blades. "Just for that, you can make your own damn tea from now on."

"Whatever." And Zoro wandered back to his hammock, flopping back down, so much dead-weight. He was asleep again before Sanji even blinked.

Sanji had quite forgotten about the list, too busy lurking below the crows-nest, presenting a visible threat...should Usopp ever get it in his head to come back down.

Dinner-time rolled around all too soon, though, and Sanji was forced to abandon his post. He'd gotten sick of standing there anyway.

And when he headed for the galley, everyone followed, eager for the relative coolness therein. Relative, because it was out of the sun, and only slightly less stifling.

Sanji was the one stuck sweating over the hot stove, of course, so he didn't get much respite. Not that he seemed to mind.

He never seemed to mind much of anything, in fact--so long as no-one irritated him. Slouched about with his usual unhurried air, unrumpled, unaffected. The food, as always, was perfect: not too heavy, but filling enough to take the snappish edge off of everyone and their appetites. They drank liberal amounts of vin ordinaire, and fled soon to the fresh air of the fore-deck. In all the heat, the smell of unwashed body was growing rather pervasive.

Once the sun had gone down, there was some relief to be had. And at last Zoro had deigned to shower, making himself fit for human company again. Sanji noted this, and the fact that he was naked, with a sarong over one shoulder, and a blanket over the other.

Nami fanned her shirt-tails in the slight breeze, revealing bits of the not-much-else she wore underneath. Sanji was torn. So torn, in fact, that he did nothing but sulk, alone in a corner, for the rest of the night.

No one else seemed to care, they were all just as undressed, if not moreso. And all too accustomed to Zoro in the buff.

It was kind of hard to stay modest with such limited space, and what with the heat and all...the lack of privacy, or respect thereof...hell, it was damn near impossible.

After so many days out at sea, with the same god-damned people, on the same god-damned schedules, all using the same god-damned bathroom, it was only inevitable that everyone see everybody else naked.

With such odds against him, Zoro had taken to striding about topside in the all-together. As he'd reasoned, why not just get it over with? Everyone would be so much more comfortable with that out of the way.

So, every morning, he walked from his room, quietly about the decks, naked; toothbrush in his mouth, coffee cup in hand. Blasé as anything, because he honestly didn't give a damn. Everyone got an eyeful, whether they damn well wanted to or not. Not even Nami was spared. After so many weeks, she'd become just one of the guys. So much scenery, in other words.

She never made a complaint, funnily enough. Sanji was really the first to object; that morning, of all mornings. As if to make it perfectly clear he hadn't enjoyed the free show, or anything; because lord knew, he'd had a week's worth of opportunities to speak out.

Bastard had thrown a beet at Zoro, cursing him out in the same breath. "Jeezus, fucker, no one needs to see that!"

It was certain that thing would've hurt, too; had Sanji not missed by an incredibly wide margin.

Zoro was nonplused. "Aw, lay off it, man. You've had a week to say something. Why now? Besides, look at what you're wearing. Or not, as it were."

He indicated as such, Sanji's pale fish-belly skin glowing in the morning sun. The only things keeping him decent: a sarong, a dog-tag necklace, and a pair of tinted specs. Always had to be the dandy, no matter what the climate. No matter the circumstances either, in this case: peeling vegetables on the fore-deck. Smoking. Being all "look at me, I'm too stylish to use an ash-tray."

"Point taken, just put some fucking pants on, would you? A towel at least..."

Zoro's face had grown hot. Where the hell did _he_ get off? Scratch that. Zoro knew where, and when for that matter--how often, too. What gave Sanji the right to dictate modesty, when practically every night he sat in the tub, and jerked off? He tried so damn hard to be quiet, it was all the more obvious.

"Why should I? Who died and made you the decency police?"

"Fuck, I'm just saying: not everyone wants to see your wedding tackle."

"Well I'm sure not everyone wants to see yours either. You never hear _me_ complain, though, do you?" He resisted the urge to leer.

At this, Sanji had the good grace to blush. Angrily. Though he made no move to absent himself from Zoro's presence, or even...quit staring at him, into him, with utter and total resentment. He just stood there, angrily gripping a potato, until Zoro got tired of it and wandered off.

And Zoro had continued to amble about, happily naked, and without a care in the world until he happened upon the similarly naked Luffy. They'd exchanged jovially unconcerned "Good Morning!"s, and went about their separate businesses.

Usopp, spying them both from the 'upper deck', had hooted, and followed Zoro's progress as far as the starboard rail. He dumped cold sea-water over Zoro, and left him to stand there, shrinking and shivering in the cool of the shade.

His parting words: "Put some pants on, you're scaring the fish!"

Zoro had tackled him, before he could even think to run, and thrown his goggles overboard. Just desserts.

The resulting blow-up was simply epic in scope. Suddenly, everyone was at each other's throats. So-and-so had failed to do their share of cleaning yesterday; so-and-so was always naked; so-and-so insisted on smoking inside the unventilated cabin...and it was giving so-and-so nosebleeds. So-and-so wasn't exactly helping, either; he'd simply shrugged, as was his way, and insisted they work it out themselves.

Three guesses as to which straw-hat-wearing so-and-so that was.

It would have come to blows, had it not been for the terrible, pervasive heat, and quick judicious applications of rum. They'd quietly nursed hurt feelings for the rest of the morning, up until the rather irritating business with the raiders.

It was now early evening, though; and all of them to a body, were laid out topside, naked or near naked. No complaints, and nothing thrown. Truce.

That was the thing about being at sea--besides the salt-air, and inescapable sun--you always reached a truce of some sorts. No matter what petty squabbles or little feuds erupted with the sunrise, no matter how vicious, or justified; it was settled by supper-time. One way or another, that is.

If not that, then people at least had the good grace to keep quiet about it until tempers cooled.

A breeze had kicked up, and there was Sanji, even nakeder than the rest of them. Tented under a blanket like the world's palest native, smoking those cigarettes one after another, as the pearls of sweat dried from his body.

He'd gotten over his prudishness with remarkable speed. Almost challenging Zoro to make something of it when he'd first shaken off the sarong to stand naked at the rail, so pale in the dark, he was almost pearlescant. Save for the one place he was dark, dusky pink; big too, like you'd often expect on such a skinny guy, with hands and feet so awkwardly large. God, he was freakish.

Beautiful.

And for a very brief second, Zoro hated him.

Not in a specific way, or one he could easily define; but rather something vague and all-purpose. Just...'I think I hate him.' Almost as soon as he'd thought it, it passed. He didn't let it trouble him any further.

Hating someone so wholly unconcerned with your existence took far too much energy. It wasn't as if Sanji could help being beautiful. Or that he was a total snob. Or the fact that he was always there, and Zoro couldn't get away from him, or the sight of him; and the pale sparse line of hair that trailed down his belly.

So there he now sat, pale, sweaty, self-absorbed; and Zoro let him be. Wasn't worth the trouble.

It was just such an evening. Lazy. A bit let down. Nothing better for Zoro to do than let Usopp trash him at Spades, and struggle valiantly to keep his eyes open.

The sun took a lot out of a body, but it didn't hit you until the heat of the day was gone, and evening's cool descended. That's when the fatigue came. Dropped you under a weight like a ton of bricks. You weren't motivated to do much, besides sit around, or shuffle around; and collapse against things or people. Drinking was also always a worthwhile activity, though even that took a bit of effort. Lifting that bottle got to be so tiring after a while.

Zoro supposed that's why they'd invented straws. He finished his beer with a slurp, let rumble a healthy belch, and flopped back onto his elbows. Usopp kicked his foot.

"Are you bowing out of the game?"

Zoro yawned and waved at him. "mah, one more hand." But his heart wasn't really in it, nor his body for that matter.

Sanji seemed to have the right idea when he dragged himself over to a hammock, and collapsed into it. Where he remained, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.

Zoro quickly lost the hand, and with a sound of disgust, heaved himself to his feet. Usopp regathered the cards and shuffled them around aimlessly, he seemed content enough with his victory that he wasn't going to challenge anyone else that night.

Sanji lay dozing in the hammock, all but swallowed up by it, easy enough to overlook in one's exhaustion. But Zoro knew he was in there...could care less when he flopped down in it, right atop the sleeping cook.

Sanji didn't wake at the intrusion, just elbowed Zoro a bit, before twisting resolutely onto his side. He was too sacked out to care, or notice.

Another inevitable fact: with such limited space, and lack of modesty, sooner or later, someone was going to end up sleeping naked in a hammock with somebody else. Weren't they?

Of course they were. Things like that were bound to happen, and Zoro could hardly be blamed, tired as he was. Going at this rate, he could justify almost anything. Sleeping on Sanji? Yawn, sure, why not? While he was at it, why not just drape his arm like so? It happened while he was sleeping. He didn't plan it or anything.

Another cool breeze rippled past, and Zoro opened his eyes, to see stars wheeling overhead. He sighed, and smiled. Sanji sort of half-flopped, and threw a leg over his.

'Yeah', thought Zoro, 'this is where you belong'. 'Nami-san, over there, she don't give two shits about you, or where you sleep. Her loss. You're a warm guy, and I don't just mean temperature-wise.' And not even thinking, he'd hugged Sanji closer.

He realized it said a lot about how comfortable he'd grown here, with these people, and with Sanji. A month or two ago, if someone had told him he'd end up sleeping with the cook, there would've been violence.

And lulled by that revelation, it wasn't long before Zoro nodded off: draped haphazardly half across Sanji's sleeping body, cooled by the ocean breeze, comforted by Sanji's heat. Rocked by the steady rhythm of their breathing, his and Sanji's. He never stopped to think twice, how this might just border on the inappropriate.

As long as Sanji wasn't complaining, and as long as he kept trying to snuggle unconsciously closer, Zoro wouldn't let it trouble him.

It was probably inevitable, of course, that someone come along and spoil things. Zoro was jolted awake by a sudden weight smacking down on top of him, making the hammock dip alarmingly. His eyes flew open to--

"Oi, Zoro!" Luffy sitting cross-legged on his chest, grinning.

Zoro kicked and screamed like the true, proud warrior he was. "GET OFF MEEE!!"

"Yaaahhh!" Sanji woke with a shout, floundering about wildly, as if under attack.

Zoro took an elbow to the face, trying to avoid one of Sanji's feet, and rolled right out of the hammock, taking Luffy with him. A few moments of panting and confusion, most of it on Sanji's part, before any of the three located their tongues.

"Kuso, Sanji, you're all corners!" Zoro yelped, rubbing his cheek. "That coulda been my eye."

"Hey, Sanji...did I wake you?" Luffy snickered.

Sanji peered comically over the edge at the two, hair a wild mess, eyes huge. He did not look happy. It was quite a moment before he managed to piece his thoughts together, snapping. "Who asked you two fuckers to jump in bed with me?!"

"It's not a bed, it's a hammock." Zoro pointed out, stating the perfectly obvious. "You know the rules; no-one lays sole claim to a hammock. Especially not the big one with all the pillows."

Sanji gave a grunt, and hucked several pillows at Zoro. "That was never a rule. Fuck off, and thanks for waking me."

Adjusting his sarong, Zoro gathered his pillows and wandered away with an indignant huff. "Hn." So much for Sanji not complaining.

Luffy stayed where he was, staring up at Sanji without blinking. Sanji stared back at him helplessly. "Go away?"

Luffy grinned. "Hnee!"

"Well, that was...new." Nami said with a shrug, then turned back to the steering lever.

Zoro, for his part, sat amongst his pillows and brooded, as the night, and the endless ocean, continued to drag on.

At 0800 a storm rolled in, or rather, they rolled into the storm. It wasn't unusual for the season, not entirely unexpected either. Nami had mentioned something about it earlier, something about a pressure change, which Zoro had brushed off at the time.

The rain began as a light mist, and they weren't too concerned. But soon came the thunder, and lightning, then fatter and fatter drops. In almost no time, it was pelting down heavily. To the great disappointment of everybody, they were forced to retreat to the stifling shelters of their cabins. Either that or stay topside and get pummeled. Possibly struck by lightning. Nami didn't say 'I told ya so', and quite conspicuously.

Zoro contemplated waking Sanji, as the rain lashed down. It was amazing he hadn't woken already. Poor bastard must've been utterly wiped out. "Would anyone object if I left him out here to drown?"

"If it means having you as our cook..." Luffy said sideways.

With a long-suffering groan, Zoro reached into the hammock and whipped the blanket off. He gave Sanji's shoulder a rough shove, which sent the hammock rocking. "Yo, fish-belly, wake up."

A muttered "Fuck you," as Sanji tried to fold the hammock around himself.

Zoro was having none of that. He gave the other shoulder an even harder shove; had to dodge quickly to avoid Sanji's rabbit kick. Managed to latch hold of his ankle in the same motion--by pure blind luck, too--leaving the cook in a rather undignified position.

"Zoro, what the hell..."

"Go ahead and kick me, I'm all for leaving you out here in the storm..."

"Storm," he muttered sleepily, rubbing his eyes with rain-slick hands. "Well why the fuck didn't you say so? Lay off me!" He jerked his leg back, nearly slamming Zoro into the planks.

"Tch. Someone's cranky tonight." Zoro sniffed, righting himself. He was now utterly soaked, and starting to chill. Starting to wish he'd worn more than a thin sarong--which hadn't seemed to impress Sanji much anyway.

Sanji stumbled from the hammock, and snatched his blanket back from Zoro, who slapped his other shoulder and propelled him towards the cabin. No-nonsense like. Paid little heed when Sanji stopped short and jabbed him in the armpit with a shoulder-blade. Sharp. Everything about Sanji was edges. And he damn-well knew how to use them.

"Not cute." And Zoro shoved him, hard.

Sanji smirked. All right, _very_ cute. But not at all clever.

They left the others behind to seek the shelter of indoors.

"You'd be cranky too if you had to spend every night crammed in here with your snoring..." Sanji muttered languidly, pausing to crack his back. Then carefully slicking the water from his moisture darkened blond hair, which seemed forever fallen over one eye. Sanji raked it back, affirming once and for all that both eyebrows curled.

Zoro grinned and said as much, "Heh, two wonderful eyebrows," He reached out to tousle Sanji's hair, just to see him bristle. "With all that hair in your face, I'm surprised you're not constantly bumping into stuff."

Sanji slapped his hand away, Zoro persisted. "Oi, quit doing that!" The hair flopped back over his eye, curling up a bit at the ends. Zoro fiddled with it, and Sanji glared.

"Ah, you're so easy to mess with, Sanji." Zoro laughed. Zoro dug a finger-tip into Sanji's trapezes muscle, which set him twitching. "Little tense, ne?"

"Ah, fuck you." Sanji lunged to bite said finger, his prized hands folded safely under his arms. "Why aren't you outside helping?"

"Why aren't you?"

"Because I'm too valuable."

"Too scrawny, you mean."

"Again, fuck you."

"With what?"

"A sawfish."

"You're no fun."

Roughly then, the rest of the crew filed in. Sanji quickly distanced himself, pulled his blanket close around his body. Well, thought Zoro, if that's the way it was gonna be.

"We battened down everything. Looks like we're in for a rough one." Luffy said nonchalantly, digging a brief finger into his nostril. "You guys gonna turn in?"

Chortles from Usopp and Nami, quickly but poorly stifled behind guilty hands. Zoro folded his arms, and Sanji delivered the hurt look to end all hurt looks. Couldn't understand why his beloved Nami-san would laugh at him.

"Nice. Share a hammock with a guy, and suddenly everything's code for buggery."

Usopp feigned repulsion. "What? I never even implied it."

Sanji grimaced. "I feel so dirty." He turned to walk away. "Going to take a bath..._alone_."

Zoro stood rooted to the spot, frowning. Usopp, Nami, and Luffy were all...looking at him. They weren't even blinking. Not really glaring. Just. Looking, like they were waiting for something. An explanation, or a negation.

"Buggery!" Zoro shouted, watching them flinch with some satisfaction. "That's right everybody, I said it before you did, so go ahead and make your little jokes. Buggery, buggery, buggery!"

A collective non-reaction. They all froze and stared at him, dumbfounded. Zoro was torn between wishing the floor would open up and swallow him...and wishing it would swallow _them_. And when neither seemed likely to happen, he just sighed and turned away. "Right, then. I'm going to bed."

"Oh, come on! Zoro! We didn't mean anything by it..." Nami called after. "You're being a baby about this."

But he wasn't hearing it, too tired to even stay properly angry, or anything. Oh hell, let them think he was upset. What did it matter? Let them have their fun and laugh their laughs. They had no fucking clue.

When Sanji returned later from his bath, he was greeted by Zoro's (ostensibly) sleeping back. Sanji grated out a sigh. Of course they'd be stuck sharing quarters. Even here there was no escape. But he counted his blessings, small as they were, that Luffy and Usopp had seen fit to move out last week.

It was only temporary, due to the oppressive heat. But it was a welcome respite, however long it lasted. Right now, they were where the bar used to be--that having moved, for the time being, to the shed in Nami's orchard. Though Sanji didn't see why the shed itself couldn't have served as a bedroom. The way things were situated, he could still hear the snores coming through his wall.

Zoro must have been a light sleeper, because he half turned as soon as the door shut, cracking an eyelid.

"Hey." he said.

Sanji grunted by way of reply, trudged over to his bed, sat down with a towel draped over his head. He wore a light robe this time, though that was discarded as soon as he was certain Zoro wouldn't peek. Sanji drew his legs up, and sat propped under his one small window, filling the room with smoke. Outside, the rain pattered down, and Sanji waited for Zoro to complain. Or throw something at him, as was the case, more often than not.

Instead what he got was another "Hey."

Sanji muttered a "Hey," in response. Slightly guarded.

"Don't mind those guys, you know. They talk a lot of shit. Boredom makes 'em kind of crazy sometimes."

"eh?" Sanji muttered, blowing smoke rings.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm not remotely interested in you. For sex, or anything."

Sanji laughed at this, then stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill. "You're a worse liar than Usopp-san. Good night, Zoro."

A light snort. "Good night, shit-head."

Zoro woke bright and early the following morning, and went about it in his usual fashion: naked, toothbrush in his mouth, coffee cup in his hand. Nami and Usopp were already up and about, surveying the aftermath of last night's storm. It seemed they'd gotten off easy, and come through it entirely unscathed.

The sun was out again, bright as ever. Nami looked up as Zoro strolled past. "Aren't you ever worried you'll get burned down there?" She said, not even pretending not to stare.

To which Zoro shrugged, tucked toothbrush behind ear, and took a draught of his coffee.

"And where's Sanji?" She complained, standing and frowning. "I'm half starved already."

For no good reason, Zoro choked a little.

"Bet he's still asleep. Probably all worn out from last night." Usopp said off-hand, exchanging really nasty and suspicious smirks with Nami. "Not surprisingly. I bet things got athletic...hell, I'm worn out just thinking about it."

"Sanji does seem like he'd be the flexible type." Nami speculated.

"Hows about it, Zoro? Did you bend him like a pretzel? Ahahahaha! Aww...that was too gross...badthought, badthought!" Usopp danced, alternately smiling, and grimacing.

Zoro bridled. "Hey!"

Nami feigned innocence. "What? I mean, it's perfectly obvious you two are--"

"No way!" Zoro blushed, muttering furiously. "Oh, this is just terrific! Look. Just because--and we share--it's not--"

"It's okay, Zoro, you don't have to lie to us. We're happy for you!" Nami said brightly. "Well, I am, at least."

Zoro almost bit his toothbrush in half. "Clearly the sun's spoiled what little brains you have left, ya red-haired witch. Why won't you believe nothing happened!?"

"Oh? In whose hammock didn't it happen, then?"

"I refuse to dignify that with a response." Zoro huffed, turned, and nearly collided with a sarong clad Luffy.

Who raised a customary hand in greeting, and took a deeeep breath. "GOOD MOR--"

"Outta my way." Zoro stalked past him.

Luffy deflated, and looked after Zoro quizzically. "Eh? What's up his ass this morning?" Turned even more quizzical when Nami and Usopp erupted in rude giggles.

Sanji prepared breakfast at his usual unhurried pace. Ate with the usual cigarette at his fingertips, drank the usual black coffee with lazy disdain for everyone. Puzzled at the unusual looks, and scowled at the unusual giggles.

Gave Zoro a very pointed glare, as if this was somehow his doing, before rising lazily from his chair and sulking off. He remained scarce for the better part of the morning.

Needless to say, things weren't off to a good start. Tensions ran strange that day. A restlessness seemed to run through the crew. Made them snappish one moment, giddy the next. It was the lingering pressure system from last night's storm, Nami explained. It had a way of getting to people, making them jumpy; out of sorts. A bit like the crackley sensation before a lightning strike.

They did their best to each pass the time, maintain what little sanity remained. Nami and Zoro sparred with wooden practice swords, while Luffy and Usopp plotted their course, and argued.

Sanji smoked.

Smoked and drank glass after glass of ice-water, and did his damnedest to avoid the sun. It was largely an exercise in futility, and pretty soon he was laid out under his customary hammock, sweating, sunburnt, and beset with migraine.

Zoro happened by, at an opportune moment, and peeked under the hammock. "Eh, haven't you got enough sense to get out of the heat? Especially wearing black like that...tch."

Sanji just groaned, and crooked a finger, beckoning. "Oi...Zoro, be a friend...kill me, please."

Zoro smirked. "Why waste the energy? Come on, get up. I'll make you some tea." Zoro gestured towards the cabin.

"Huh?"

"Tea, asshole, don't make me hafta repeat myself."

Sanji rose with a shrug, and dutifully followed.

Zoro moved easily around the galley, ignored Sanji's protests over the mess he was making. He put some water on to boil, and began rummaging carelessly through the pantry, shouting from its depths:

"There's only one thing I know how to cook, and that's tea. But it's damn good tea! Now all I gotta do is find it--crap, that ain't it--nope. Ow! Damn-it. Don't worry, everything's under control."

Sanji whimpered.

A loud clatter as something large got knocked over. "oops," Zoro muttered, without much concern. "I'll have someone clean that up later..."

Sanji groaned and hunched over the table, head buried in his arms. "Fuuuck, please spare me the indignity. Kill me here and now...just don't mess up the face."

Zoro simply went about his search, ignoring the complaints. "Come on, it's tea. Even a retarded monkey couldn't screw up tea."

"Yeah, well, a retarded monkey would have the sense not to wreck my kitchen...ow..."

"Just sit still." Zoro ordered dryly, emerging, now having located the tea. "If you ask me, that headache's your own damn fault. No reason to go making it worse."

Sanji made a miserable noise, rubbed his eyes with a careless hand. "How did you know I had a headache? I mean...to begin with."

Zoro cocked his head, and tutted, pitying. "Sun always gives you a headache."

"Then how come you never made me tea before now?"

"You're usually an asshole about it. No-one can even get near you."

Sanji shifted his hand, peeking out one pale, world-weary eye. Zoro shrugged helplessly. Sanji stared at him for another two seconds before replacing the hand, and resting his head on the table. "Pardon me, but when did that change?"

"Last night."

"What'd I do last night?" Sanji frowned, side of his face still pressed to the table.

"I dunno. I can't really explain it. It just seemed like you were...nicer." Almost absentmindedly, Zoro located a clean mug, and turned it over in his hands a while. Like he was examining some strange artifact.

"Don't remember any of it." Sanji muttered. "Except for the hammock. That I do remember. Is _that_ what you meant?"

"You were awake?!" Zoro nearly clutched at his chest.

"Here and there." Sanji muttered, nonchalant. "Why? Does that make it somehow less okay?"

The water had started to boil, and without thinking, Zoro grabbed the pot-handle. It was EXTREMELY hot.

"GAHH! Fuck a duck...ow...shit..." Zoro hissed, quickly wrapping a towel around the pot-handle. Almost burning his other hand despite that. "If you were awake, you should've said something!"

Sanji looked up, watching Zoro's performance with lazy befuddlement. "Idiot." He sighed. "Did you burn yourself?"

Zoro sucked his hand, and poured water into the infuser. "It's nothing." Thank the Kami for sword calluses; minimized the damage, if not the sting.

Sanji reached out a languid arm. "Lemme see."

Dumbly, Zoro removed the hand from his mouth, and relinquished it into Sanji's care. Sanji turned it this way and that, and looked it over gravely...then his critical eye fell on Zoro's face, forcing him to stammer out:

"It's--it's nothing, really!"

But it was a while before Sanji saw fit to release the hand, or Zoro's gaze. It almost seemed he was searching for something, carefully examining Zoro's face, then his hand, then his face again. At last, it seemed, he found what he was looking for, because he let Zoro snatch his hand back.

Though he didn't break off his stare. Only squinted a bit.

"Put cold water on it, you'll be fine." Sanji said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Your hand."

"Oh...right." Shit. What was he doing just a minute ago? "The tea..." Zoro fumbled with the pot--the nice frou-frou ceramic one Sanji had brought with him--almost slipped and scalded himself, but managed to pour most of the tea where it belonged.

He set the mug down in front of Sanji; who folded his hands around it, and smirked strangely to himself. He took a sip and said nothing.

"Well?" Said Zoro, arms crossed tightly.

"It's good." Muttered Sanji. "My favorite kind."

"You're welcome." Zoro spun a chair around, straddled it backwards, and sat there with his arms folded over the back; chin rested on top, watching Sanji with dark lazy eyes.

Sanji drank the tea without another word; the entire time, drooped over the table like a dying lily. And smirking.

Why the hell was he smirking? Then again, why the hell did Sanji _ever_ smirk? He was a bastard, good enough reason that.

"How's your head feeling?" Zoro asked after a while. "Any better?"

Sanji drooped a little more, shook the head in question. "Gonna take more than tea. But thanks anyway, I guess."

Zoro gave a slight shift, then picked himself up from his chair. Slipped around the table with a fighter's lazy grace. "You're probably all tense in the neck. I could give you a massage."

Sanji stiffened upright, the smirk vanished. "No way! You'll make things worse. Don't poke at me...I'll die!"

But Zoro's hands were already on Sanji's shoulders. He gave a light shove, and whispered in Sanji's ear. "Relax. I'll be really gentle. Just tell me if something hurts."

After a moment's consideration, Sanji dutifully folded over his arms, and allowed Zoro to continue without threat of violence or bodily harm. Which was good, because, Zoro had no desire to dodge one of his kicks in such cramped confines.

"Jeez, you really _are_ tense." Zoro kneaded Sanji's shoulders very carefully, finding him knots on top of knots. "Poor Sanji," he murmured, palms seeking out the sweet spots, digging in. "A cook's life ain't easy, is it?"

"Less talking, more careful." Sanji muttered impatiently, fingers tapping the edge of the ashtray. A smoker's nervous tic.

Zoro dug into his shoulders, and Sanji twitched violently, fingers clenching. "gk!"

"Hmm, that's not good..." Zoro paused a moment, pulled Sanji back, sat him up. Slid one hand up the back of his neck, placed the other on his forehead. "I think I can fix it."

"W--wait...what the hell are you--"

"Just relax, I know where the problem is." Zoro carefully traced the vertebrae, looking for the right spot. "Just need to--" Found it.

"Gah! What are you about to--"

He grabbed Sanji's jaw, and in one quick motion, snapped his head to the side. He felt a satisfying little click, and Sanji went limp.

Usopp scrambled for a better position, pressing his ear to the door. Luffy tapped his shoulder.

"Oi," Luffy whispered. "Whatta you think they're doing in there?"

"I dunno, shhhshhh! You wanna get me in deep shit, or what?"

"That felt...good..." Sanji mumbled weakly, now sprawled back in his chair, spaghetti limbed. "A little warning, though, next time. Baka."

Zoro grinned, then rubbed his hands together. Time for the serious work to begin. No complaints as he reached around, and undid a few buttons on Sanji's shirt, slid his hands down under the collar. Warm smooth skin, and this close, he could see where Sanji had gotten a little color since yesterday. Light freckles scattered across his neck, setting off pale white-blonde hairs.

"You've got a lotta stress riding right about here..." Zoro rubbed the area between Sanji's shoulder-blades, swaying him, loose and pliable. "I noticed the other day."

"When you hit me?" Sanji slurred. "Now _that's_ talent."

"I'm trained to notice that stuff. You know, spotting an enemy's weak-points." Zoro carefully manipulated the flesh over Sanji's ribs, thumb-pads tracing diagonal lines outwards from his knobby spine. "You'd be in real trouble if you were fighting me."

Sanji growled, then shivered. "Don't mess around. I'd've fucked you up. No question."

"Yeah, sure you would." Zoro muttered, thumbing circles up his shoulder-blades. "Lean forward." He pushed Sanji back over the table.

"Want me to take my shirt off?" Sanji muttered, already shrugging it from his shoulders.

'DO I!' Zoro bit his tongue, literally, wincing. "Okay."

And Sanji undid the remaining buttons, the shirt slid to the floor.

Zoro cupped the balls of his shoulders, and skimmed down, locating the pressure points with all the skill of unlocking a particularly challenging puzzle. That was Sanji, in a word.

Puzzling. Troublesome. Vexing. Zoro kept on kneading, letting the words dictate his rhythm, feeling Sanji's muscles un-kink little by little. His arms, from shoulder to finger-tip, then his neck. It was delicate work, slow-going, but Zoro put his all into it, like he did everything. He really hoped Sanji appreciated this.

'Bloody-minded. Aggravating. Enervating. Amusing. Arousing...damn. Distracting.' Zoro delivered himself a swift mental kick, hands still moving of their own accord, rhythm unbroken. Sanji swayed under his attentions, now so much cooked noodle.

Zoro smiled. "How's that?"

A sound of encouragement from Sanji, pure love for what Zoro was doing. He continued, taking several rather daring liberties: running fingers up through Sanji's hair, massaging his scalp, the base of his skull. Sliding around to his temples, fingertips on his jaw; gentle and patient. Sanji wasn't just cooked noodle now, he was soup; liquid flowing under Zoro's touch.

"All better now?" Zoro leaned over him, hand on chair back, taking Sanji's boneless state as a positive sign. A little rub at mid-back, and Sanji wiggled. "Hmm." That was curious. "Still some stress there, ne?"

Then Sanji's hand reached back, demanding, petulant. "You forgot my ears." He muttered, touching Zoro's wrist.

The contact shot through him, strangely electric, as if they hadn't touched before. And they just had, plenty. But this was different.

Sanji brushed his wrist again, too calculating a move to be entirely accidental. His gentle, callused knuckles trailed higher--a slow, deliberate caress. The hand inverted, light fingernails shocking up the soft skin; and Zoro jumped.

"Your wrist feels stressed." Sanji muttered, then pointed at his ears. "Come on, do my ears. Then I'll do you!" Grinning foolishly as he said it.

Zoro complied, putting a strangle-hold on his self-control. He could do this. He could bite back that silly little impulse to spread Sanji across the table, and continue the massage with his mouth.

At this point, he could quite conceivably get away with it. But there was no telling what would happen when he finished. He knew, from experience, that Sanji had no compunctions about trying to remove his head.

He gave the rims of his ears a few gentle rolls, with thumb and forefinger, lightly rubbed the backs. Thumbstroked the sharp bones behind, skinned his hands down Sanji's neck. Paused.

Then, just to see what would happen, pressed his tumb into the ridges of vertebrae, the knob at the base of his neck. Rubbed. Sanji rolled his neck, appreciatively.

"Keep going." He muttered, attempting to light a cigarette, rocking under the motions of Zoro's hands.

Zoro traced the thumb towards Sanji's shoulders, with quick deliberate pressure, an extra little rub at the end. He felt nerves twang, and muscles twinge in an entirely different way. Again, Sanji rolling against him, quietly smoking, face ecstatic.

Zoro flattened his palm, briskly rubbed another circle between Sanji's shoulders, before thumbing, and tracing down again.

Concentrating pressure right above that hard, flat plane, where pelvis met spine. Very sensitive nerve bundle there, he felt something hum through his hand. Heat, energy, nerves. A bit of twitching, still some stress there after all. Zoro rubbed carefully, skimming around Sanji's hip-bones, avoiding the delicate sciatic bundles; concentrating on his waist.

Slid his hand around and rubbed Sanji's belly, just for the feel of it. The tight tension of skin stretched over flat muscle. The dip of his navel, the coarse little hairs around it. The line down the center, that, if rubbed a certain way--

A small intake of breath, Sanji arching his back slightly.

Zoro slid the flat of his hand lower, pressing a line towards Sanji's groin, then sliding it back up, other hand still on his lower back. Kept this up until Sanji arched again, a little more emphatically.

"Kuso ba~kaaa..." Sanji hissed, hips squirming.

Zoro bit back a gasp. 'Stupid,' he hissed to himself 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' His fingers curled in, scraping, and Sanji hummed; a deep moaning type sound, from the back of his throat. And, no, okay, that did not seem like an angry sound. But still, something about this was crossing the line. Zoro should stop, he knew. But Sanji lifted a hand, and gently tickled the inside of his wrist. Not saying anything, or even opening his eyes. Zoro carefully withdrew his hand, a bit higher. 'Safe ground', he told himself, still rubbing.

Sanji made a disappointed noise, and slumped a bit.

Zoro returned his attentions to Sanji's lower back, pressing, rubbing. Gently pushing Sanji forward for better access, thinking this would be so much better with him lying down. Squashed that thought. Turned his hand, so the side of his thumb pointed towards Sanji's tail-bone. And slid it down.

Easy, because he wasn't wearing a belt, just thin nylon cargo shorts...and no underwear. Lower, more pressure. Tension

"Kono yaro..." Sanji groaned, hips jerking.

Zoro's breath caught, heart suddenly beating triple-time. He could feel the start of Sanji's tail-bone under his finger-tips. More of the same electic tension he'd felt before. He rubbed downward, to tip of the tail-bone. Hissed through his teeth.

"Sit still, shit-head. You want a pinched nerve?"

Sanji growled, and ground against him. "You've lost your mind, bushido baka," voice low and dangerous; hands gripping the edge of the table, white knuckled. His breath shuddered in and out. "Stop and I'll kill you."

Zoro stopped. Not to be difficult, though, just caught off guard. "Stop--what?"

Sanji bucked against his hand, impatient. "Nameru ja nai..." Sanji whispered, squirming, splaying his knees in an all too telling way. "Don't play innocent with me. Keep going." He panted roughly.

Zoro bit his lip, hard, and ran fingernails up Sanji's back. Both gratified, and terrified when Sanji pressed back against him, into his palms. Zoro's fingers down below, still circling his tail-bone. And then the fingers sort of...slipped. Just a little. Encountered soft puckered flesh. Sanji gave a harsh cry, and the next sound Zoro heard, was a loud bang. Followed by an almost musical ringing.

When Zoro's heart had retreated safely from his throat, he opened his eyes, and realized that Sanji had kicked the table. Teacup overturned, tea spilled everywhere, chairs knocked askew.

Sanji shuddered, and gasped noisily, legs sprawled, knock-kneed and shaking. Zoro craned his neck over Sanji's shoulder, and Sanji blushed furiously.

"Itte..." he squeaked. "My knee."

"You told me to keep going." Zoro shrugged, rubbing Sanji's shoulders. It seemed he'd gone suddenly tense again. "Want me to rub it?

"I don't think you wanna do that right now."

"Why not?" Zoro rubbed Sanji's chest, knuckled his breastbone. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Sanji just drew a shuddering breath, and twitched a little, until Zoro's hands gentled somewhat. "Baka." He whispered. "'Course not. Up until the part where I banged my knee."

"About that..."

Sanji laughed, breathing still hinky, rough. "You wanna fuck me, ne, Zoro? But you don't know how to ask...or you're just too chickenshit."

Zoro almost shoved him away, down onto the table, but settled instead for yanking his hands back. Grabbed handful of Sanji's hair, trying not to picture him facedown and writhing; gave a meaningful tug. "What did you say?"

"Ch'kuso! Itte!" Sanji squeaked, flailing a bit until Zoro released him. "I said 'you wanna fuck me'"

"No, that other thing..." Zoro hissed, blushing so hot he was sure Sanji could feel it. Radiant energy.

"I said you were too chickenshit to ask."

"I was giving you a massage! _You_ were the one who hadda make it pornographic, with all that moaning and everything."

"I didn't ask for your finger in my butt."

Zoro yanked his hair again, eliciting tears. "It was nowhere near _in_ your--" He couldn't complete the thought, knowing full well that Sanji _had_ asked. No, demanded. 'Stop and you're a dead man.' And he wasn't sure how he could've misconstrued that.

Zoro grumbled and yanked again. "Yamero! That _hurts_..." Sanji whimpered. Zoro grimaced and let him go, giving his shoulders a few apologetic rubs. "I didn't say I didn't like it. But next time, ask. That's not some place I normally like people messing around."

Zoro let go a deep breath. "Shit," he muttered, hanging his head. "I was just going where the stress was." Which was pretty close to true.

"That's a good one. Can you tell where it is now?" Sanji slid down in the chair, spread his legs apart. Indolent. The very picture of a bored uber-dandy, oozing sex and superiority.

Was it Zoro's imagination, or was there a wet-spot on his shorts?

Zoro whimpered. No way, it was just tea. Had to be.

Sanji squirmed a little under his gaze. "Give up the bullshit act. I know you wanna fuck me. I suspected from the beginning, you did. This just confirms it."

Bastard.

"So what if I do?"

Sanji straightened up, and stretched, to the accompaniment of several small pops and cracks. He tugged at his groin, rubbed his scalp, and lit himself a fresh cigarette. The previous lay, drowned, in a puddle of tea. Zoro loomed over him, for all that he seemed to care. Or maybe he enjoyed the feeling of enclosure. He was leaning awfully close, still.

"I don't usually swing that way." Sanji turned, pierced him with that lazy stare, head cocked just so. "But if you ask again nicely--"

"It'll be a cold day in hell." Zoro leaned down over him, bared his teeth in a way that made Sanji snicker. "Stop acting like I propositioned you."

"Didn't you?" Sanji snapped. "I don't think I need to explain why there's tea on the table." With that, he took an unmistakably post-postcoital drag on his cigarette.

Zoro smirked humorlessly; wondering if, in all of his contortions, Sanji had actually gotten off. He'd thought it was just the surprise at first, but now--he looked again at the table, knocked definitely askew--he wasn't so sure. And why did Sanji look so damn pleased? "Who wants to fuck who, again?" Zoro exclaimed, feeling like he'd just been walloped in the chest, and then the balls--both painful and entirely too pleasant.

Sanji's face went dead serious. "Oi, Zoro," he said quietly. "What would you do, if I said..._I_ did. Wanted to fuck. Right now, right here, in the kitchen."

"What, you mean after all that, you still--"

Sanji grinned slyly. "Ah, that was just the appetizer. I'm talking about the main course."

Zoro grabbed the back of Sanji's chair, tipped it backwards with a wrench. Held Sanji there, loomed back over top of him. Nose to nose, so he could see the quick dilation of pupil; Sanji's only reaction, so far. Could've kissed him right then and there, but held himself back, by a thread.

He gave the chair a slight rock, Sanji didn't flinch. He couldn't help but laugh a little at Sanji's helpless little expression. "For a second there, I almost thought you were serious!"

"What if I was serious?" Said Sanji. "What would you say?"

"I'm...not sure what I'd say."

"The hell you're not sure!" Sanji snarled. "You'd say yes, that's what you'd do. Why don't you just cop to it? What could happen? I mean, I already know. It's not like I'm going to react badly...er."

Then, Zoro wasn't sure what happened, but he felt himself puff up, like a cat. And he was latched onto Sanji's mouth, trying to suck the snark right out of him. He tasted tobacco, and Sanji's tongue underneath his, like a living thing. Hot, slick; he could feel his pulse speed as Sanji tried not to struggle. The chair tipping dangerously.

He tore himself away, and Sanji floundered in his grip, shocked, gasping. His lips were bruised red, wet, and he angrily swiped a hand across his mouth.

"Badlyer isn't a word." Zoro whispered, almost losing his grip. His arms were shaking now. And Sanji was no longer calm, cool, or collected. For the very first time, he looked a little scared.

"Too much saliva." Sanji said, panting, by way of reply, tiny tremor in his voice.

"You taste like an ashtray, baka." Zoro set the chair upright again, with a bit of reluctance, and Sanji rocked forward a bit, hugging himself.

Zoro touched his shoulder, tentatively. "Oi, cook. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Said Sanji warily, reclaiming his composure; blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "Call me Sanji, though."

"Sanji-san." Zoro breathed softly, still touching his shoulder.

Sanji regarded the hand curiously, quirked his eyebrow, and cocked his head. "Ne...Zoro, are you in love with me?"

Zoro laughed out loud. Love? Sanji? He'd sooner end up marrying his sword; at least there, he knew where he stood. Not that he didn't 'lust' Sanji, or appreciate his many charms. Just that, 'Love' was maybe stretching things a bit. And he should've said all of that, just then. But the words didn't want to come out. They jammed up inside his brain, until he felt too stupid to even form syllables.

Sanji rescued his tea-cup, examining it carefully before setting it down, shaking moisture from his fingers. "Can I take that as a yes? So far you're not denying it."

"I hardly even know you." Zoro snorted, snatching his hand away. "And since when have you ever given two shits?"

Sanji slumped again, arms hanging limp between his legs. "I _don't_ give two shits. I was just asking."

"Why don't you figure it out for yourself?"

Sanji bristled furiously. "Why don't you try sending clearer signals, fuck-head?"

"I don't send you signals!" Zoro barked. Flat out lie, and he knew it. But what was the use?

Sanji didn't respond to signals. Sanji responded to femininity. Cute girls, beautiful girls; girls, girls, girls. Sanji made it abundantly clear he cared not for crude, smelly, ugly men. Zoro was sure he could signal 'til he went blue in the face; Sanji would just look at him strangely as he always did, and continue to fill his nostrils with that acrid smoke.

Or try to kick him in the head, like it was no big deal.

"Do you hate me?" Zoro asked

"No." Sanji shrugged.

"But you don't like me."

"You don't like me either."

"But I don't hate you. And I don't love you."

"Well, I'm glad that's out in the open." Sanji slid his cup across the table, like a challenge. "You notice me, though. I sure as hell notice you."

Zoro poured the last of the tea, waited for Sanji to take the first sip.

"So, would you let me fuck you, if I asked 'nicely'?" Zoro shot back.

Much to Sanji's credit, he didn't spit out his tea. But he did stiffen, ever so noticeably, and shift in his chair. Then he relaxed, and laughed. "I practically did let you."

"You mean you...you didn't. Did you?"

Sanji blushed furiously. "You caught me off guard. No-one's ever touched me there...like that, before. It just sort of...happened."

"So, would you do it again?" Carefully, Zoro leaned over him, and stood straddling his legs a moment.

Sanji's eyes widened, and he blushed an even deeper crimson. "Are you asking me?" He grinned nervously. "You want me on top? The bottom? Top from the bottom? Over a barrel?"

Zoro breathed across Sanji's lips, and steadied himself, hands on Sanji's shoulders. "I dunno, we'd have to figure it out as we went along."

Sanji breathed harshly, and shifted his left leg in an unconscious, albeit meaningful way. A weight-bearing position. Probably a good sign to back off.

Zoro paid it no heed. All he really had to do was sit, and he could have his way with Sanji, or vice-versa. Or he could just loosen his trousers and...damn...wasn't this just the perfect position? But it might've been too soon to just spring something like that on Sanji.

Sanji took a deep bracing drag of smoke, then a drink of tea. His left leg relaxed. "So, you wanna?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow at Sanji. He waved smoke away from his face. "I dunno, do you?"

"I was asking _you_!" Sanji reiterated, somewhat more seriously.

"And I was asking you." Zoro shot back, with and exasperated breath.

Sanji frown for two seconds, uncomprending. Then, slowly, he grinned a ridiculous, stupid, toothy grin. "Asking me, for what, Zoro?" He snuck a hand up, and palmed Zoro's ass, eyes gone half-lidded. Dangerous.

Zoro wobbled, and would've fallen quite spectacularly, had Sanji not grabbed hold of his waist.

"I get it." Said Sanji, cool and earnest. "You don't wanna fuck me. You wanna get fucked _by_ me. _Hard_. That's what you can't bring yourself to ask! Well. I'll tell you what. Give me another massage like that, and I'll fuck you in half." He blew a calm smoke stream. "You'll love it."

"Sanji!" Zoro flushed hotly, and tried to scramble off. This time he did fall, flailing, he yelped. He'd always known Sanji had a dirty mouth, but this topped the list of things Zoro had never expected to hear...least of all directed at himself.

Sanji reached down to help him up. Zoro accepted his hand as a given. Not even questioning.

"Never tell anyone I said this, okay? But. You're not...unattractive." Sanji grinned again, bringing Zoro level with his face.

"Don't piss in my pocket, man." Zoro snatched his hand back, remembering his pride. "I'm still no motherfuckin' Nami-san, am I? Would you say things like that to her? Huh?"

Sanji frowned, and planted his foot in Zoro's chest, knocking him back down. Zoro, too surprised to retaliate, simply sprawled there; Sanji hanging over him. Spread-legged in his chair, regal, but not half as intimidating as he probably thinks.

"Ne, watch your mouth." Sanji said, bored stream of smoke puffing out. "Ladies are far prettier on the outside, it's true. But if you think that's all that attracts me, you're even blinder than you are stubborn."

"Stubborn!" Zoro scrambled to his feet.

"Yeah. You're a stubborn, pig-headed fuck. You just don't know when to let a thing drop. You keep on fighting when, by all accounts, you should be dead. I don't understand you. You irritate me. Sometimes I just wanna smack you. Heh. Saa, we're not so different, you 'n me."

"We're very different."

"Not in all the ways that count. But...that's what I like about you. And. You have a good heart. And I find that sexy." Sanji looked down, hid behind his hair, still grinning, shyly. "You're sexy. But don't tell anyone I told you so. They can't know."

"So, then." Said Zoro. "Would you?"

"Yes, god-damn it!" Sanji snapped, stomping his foot in frustration. "Okay, you know what? Stop asking me, because it's obvious you're not gonna do anything about it...now that I'm onto you. It's just getting annoying."

Zoro caught his breath. He needed to sit down again, and did so, falling bonelessly into his own chair; rocking back a bit with the impact. Then slumping down, arms rested on thighs, to think a moment. Sanji turned, and mirrored him. They sat and regarded each other for a long silent moment.

"Sanji-san..." he said quietly. "I don't care about the sex part. It's just--"

"You want something more?" Sanji jabbed his cigarette in Zoro's direction. "Don't get it into your head that we're an item, or anything."

"We'll see about that." Zoro smirked. "I, for one, ain't waiting 'til someone better comes along. When I do something, Sanji, I do it with my whole heart, or not at all."

Sanji leaned closer, inclining his head just so, looked up at Zoro with pale, hooded eyes. "I'll _break_ your whole heart and stomp on the pieces, Zoro. There's no question about it. If you really think it's worth the effort--"

Zoro closed the gap, plucked the cigarette from Sanji's fingers, and took a drag; before stubbing it out in the ash-tray. "We'll see." Said Zoro.

Sanji leaned closer still, angling his face up to Zoro's, freezing there. Indecision stamped clearly in the knit of his brow. He reached up a remarkably steady hand, and just sort of...cupped...the edge of Zoro's jaw. So very carefully, as if afraid it might cut him. Zoro turned his face into the callused palm, nuzzled, and shied away.

"No?" Was all Sanji said, calm as anything.

Zoro turned his face, let his lips just brush Sanji's. He wanted this, and he wanted to do it right. However, he didn't want to deal with the repercussions. He was certain there would be. Somebody was bound to walk in. And what the hell would they say, if they caught him snoggering Sanji?

Zoro the ass-pirate, that's what they'd call him. He could become the world's strongest and then some, the name would still stick. He'd go down in infamy as the sword-wielding sissy of the seven seas. Sanji's green-haired twinky play-thing. And no matter what he did, or how fiercely he loved, he knew he'd always play second for Sanji's affection.

Did it really matter, though, at this moment? The way Sanji looked at him, his eyes smiling, Zoro could almost ignore all of the negative. Maybe none of it was really true.

"Kuso." Zoro breathed, reaching for Sanji's hand, coaxing it onto his shoulder. And then Sanji's arm around him. Somehow that made it easier, permissible, to kiss him. Which he did, slowly at first, and apparently too gentle for Sanji's liking.

Sanji pulled him in tighter, angled his head, forceful. Overcoming Zoro like the great bloody storm had overcome their small ship. Something to be reckoned with. And, fuck. God. The suction. And Sanji's hands, his square utilitarian hands, so gentle; but seeming suddenly giant. Bigger than the world.

His goatee scratched. Zoro wished he never had to breathe. Because it meant tearing himself away, grabbing air where he could, getting sloppy about it. Though Sanji didn't seem to mind. Dragging his mouth across Zoro's jaw, down his neck, sucking at his throat. Causing him to gasp.

"Yes?" he breathed at Zoro. "It's okay. Tell me you love me, if it makes you feel better...just don't stop."

"Don't do that." Zoro muttered against Sanji's mouth, stopping to lick at his bee-stung swollen lower lip.

"Don't do what? Talk?" Sanji hummed into the dip of Zoro's neck. Nuzzling like he wanted to disappear, calmer now. He laughed softly, mouthing Zoro's shoulder. "Okay, I'll try to be quiet...if you promise to be quiet too."

Sanji's fingers teased at Zoro's chest, then suddenly it was the flat of his palm, skimming all the way down. There was no dancing about it, Sanji dipped right into zoro's pants, and grabbed his cock.

"Ch'kuso! Sanji!" Zoro gasped, legs jumping apart when Sanji squeezed. "Ch-chotto...matte...wait!"

Sanji pulled his hand back, but he did so slowly, a deliberate stroke that made Zoro bite back a yell. He gritted his teeth, and punched Sanji in the shoulder.

Sanji yelped in betrayal, immediately letting go. "That was really stupid, considering where that hand was. I could've hurt you." he said, rubbing his shoulder. His other hand was _still_ on Zoro's leg.

Zoro's leg jogged, as he tried his damndest not to squirm. He was most undeniably hard now, but in no way did that make him ready. Or prepared. Or were they the same thing?

"Not so fast! I've never--"

Sanji's fingers dug in, painfully. Zoro yelped, hips jerking, before his brain even processed the signal. Pain. Not good. But somehow good enough for a reaction.

"You like that?" Sanji murmured. "It's okay, I can go slower..."

He shoved away violently, scrambled up out of his chair, and Sanji would've gone right after him; had it not been for Zoro's hands, heavy on his shoulders. Pinning him down.

Sanji looked up with a slightly bewildered expression, face still tilted, angled for a kiss. He was breathing a bit faster, hands white-knuckled, gripping his own knees. Cheeks splotched red with his blushing. Very obvious hard-on in his trousers.

"What's the problem?" He breathed.

"This can't happen!"

"You're shitting me. I thought--"

Zoro frowned carefully, and let his hands slide from Sanji's shoulders, eyeing his face. "That was all 'what if' talk. We can't just--we just can't!"

"Are you worried someone's gonna walk in? 'Cause we can go someplace else." Said Sanji, voice flat and utterly serious. He reached out a lazy seductive hand. But he wasn't nearly as cool as he pretended. Splayed in his chair, chest heaving; equal parts arousal and blind panic.

"No." Zoro said flatly, falling back into his chair, first pulling it away, out of Sanji's reach. "We can't walk out like this, look at yourself! Look at me. Talk about incriminating." He laughed helplessly.

"Shit." Sanji sighed, sliding his chair forward, spreading his legs to allow Zoro's knees into the vee. "Then what do you suggest?"

Zoro hated having to deny him, when everything about Sanji just begged to be jumped. And if not in the galley, then where? They'd be too noticeable trying to sneak off to their quarters.

"I'm don't know" Zoro said hoarsely. "The minute we start anything, someone's almost sure to walk in. Laws of the universe, man."

Sanji grabbed at his legs, tried to pull them in towards him. "We don't need to get undressed. We can stop if you hear someone coming...just...please!"

If Zoro was stubborn, Sanji was that, only two-fold. Perhaps he didn't extend the effort as often as he should; but he was making up for that now. This close to humping Zoro's legs like a dog, holding onto both his thighs, shifting his hips, rubbing.

"Baka! Don't do that!"

"Ahhh..." Sanji groaned in frustration, hitching against him helplessly, before Zoro was successful in pushing him off. And it wasn't as easy as one would think. The very idea of what Sanji was doing, fucked with Zoro's brain in a major way. The stupid cook was also stronger than he looked, and did not like to be told no.

He continued pawing at Zoro, though, and he was at a loss. He didn't want to damage Sanji's hands, but nothing short of a broken finger could possibly discourage him now.

"Fine," Sanji purred, just one step removed from a snarl. He tugged at his pants, gave a little grumble of frustration. "If you won't touch me, I'll just touch myself." His one hand still gripping Zoro's knee, the other slid over his fly, squeezing.

Zoro sat, chagrined for a moment, unable to do more than watch Sanji stroke himself; through his shorts. It was a purposeful display. No doubt about it. Sanji wanted him to see exactly where that hand was, and what it was doing, every step of the way. "This isn't helping things, you know."

Sanji squirmed his hips, and gasped. He was doing some rather...interesting things with his thumb. Zoro prayed to every god he had a name for, that Sanji didn't go for his zipper. Because it would surely be his undoing.

"It's helping me." Sanji moaned. His hand--the one on Zoro's knee--clenched viciously. His stroking sped up slightly. And this would make it twice he was getting off. Zoro's competative side bristled at the idea.

"You're not being fair...if I don't get to come, neither do you!" Zoro grated out, slumping forward again, and dropping his hands onto Sanji's thighs, so he could push him away. Of course. Not that he was doing that just now.

"Who's not being fair?" Said Sanji dismissively, leaning forward, stealing a kiss before Zoro could pull back. "You can come, just let me." His hand tightened on Zoro's knee.

"Stop that, I mean it. Someone could walk in."

"Let them, they'd probably run right back out..." Sanji slid the hand up Zoro's thigh, still stroking himself, but slower, less purposeful.

Zoro clawed at Sanji's thighs, bunching the thin fabric, making his hips jerk. He gave a low growl, his own hips moving forward with a will of their own. Sanji's hand now on his cock, palm skidding over the hard flesh, creating friction, electicity. "Baka. You don't listen, do you?"

Sanji laughed. "It's not my fault, you keep grabbing at me like that, things are gonna happen..." Then he gave a hiss, squeezing himself, rocking slightly. Squeezing Zoro.

Zoro pressed back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest. That was as far as his body let him move. Sanji inched closer, nudged Zoro's legs apart with his knee, brushed the inside of his thigh in a way that made him shift. Raise his hips slightly. He gasped, rocking his legs, pressing reflexively against Sanji's knee. Skin of his balls tightening at the contact.

He moaned through his teeth, hips jerking again, of their own accord.

"If you're gonna be obstinate." Sanji snarled at him, launching himself into Zoro's lap. Fuck. Zoro didn't have time to react, wasn't sure he would've anyway.

"God-damn it!" Zoro gasped, thrusting helplessly as Sanji crashed down on him, straddling him. Almost tipping them over backwards in his overzealousness. Zoro grabbed the edge of the table, quickly averting disaster.

Sanji grinned triumphantly against Zoro's mouth, movements purposeful, arms wound tightly around his neck. "I like this." He gasped. "Hold me..."

"Damn it, San~jiii..."

A hiss. "Fucking...hold onto me..." Sanji rose up, bucked against him, then pushed down, riding him hard, and for all he was worth. Focused. And Zoro had no say in what his own body was doing, writhing, and twitching, and seeking. "Just...fucking touch me!"

He grabbed Sanji's hips, and rocked against him. There was no point in fighting it anymore. Sanji's feet scraped at the floor, he grunted helplessly, struggling for a good angle. Working a hand in between them when he couldn't do so to his satisfaction, jerking himself off and writhing. Zoro groaned, staggered, fought for leverage.

"That's it, so close..." Sanji clawed at his shoulders. Grinding down on Zoro's cock in a jerky, uneven rhythm. It was artless and clumsy, his inexperience glaringly evident now. But it had the desired effect. He came hard, body stiffening, hips pumping convulsively as he rode it out; then he _did_ bite Zoro on the shoulder.

Zoro yelped, and jerked also, almost enough. Almost, not quite. He tore frantically at Sanji's shorts, but never did get them off in time, too close, too close with Sanji thrashing against him. And. Fuck. One last wild thrust, against what, he was no longer sure; Sanji, his own hand, it didn't matter. He was done for, spilling helplessly, balls gone so tight it knocked him back in his chair. Gone in a white-out flash, thumping his head on the chair back, and not even feeling it.

It was a lot like work, having to pull himself back together, after that. Slowly relaxing, with Sanji still glommed against him, shaking with the aftershocks. Little by little, his muscles unknit themselves, though, and Zoro allowed himself to go limp.

'That good', his brain babbled at him, stupidly. He was inclined to agree. Yessir, indeed. But like hell was he ever tempting fate like that again. Next time, they were finding a room with a locking door. Or he'd think of a better way to fend Sanji off. The baka cook had worn him the hell out.

Sanji petted him, and licked his neck. Zoro couldn't muster enough braincells to complain. "There," Sanji said, voice rough. "See? Nobody walked in on us."

Zoro made a face. "I came in my pants..." He said ruefully.

"Congratulations. Me too." Sanji deadpanned, sliding off of him with a bit of twitching. He carefully refastened his shorts, and adjusted himself with a small hiss. "Yich. Starting to wish I hadn't now." He wobbled towards the sink, and grabbed a washcloth.

Zoro flopped in his chair, still too uncoordinated to really call it 'turning'. His cock twitched lazily, and he almost screamed at it to 'lie fucking still'. "How's your head feeling?"

"It was feeling a little better." Sanji rubbed his forehead, grinned, then happened to look up at the clock. He jumped a little. "Shit. It's almost lunch-time."

Zoro tried to rise from his chair, but found his muscles didn't quite want to cooperate. He locked his knees, and sort of staggered upright. He made for the door. "I'll go tell--"

Sanji caught him up short.

"Sanji, what the hell?"

"Look at your legs..."

Zoro did. They were shaking, all wobbly, and weak in the knees. He gave a groan. Sanji just smiled that infuriating smile of his.

"First time?"

Zoro frowned hard. "Had to be yours too. Or were you just shitting me about which way you 'swing'?"

"'Usually'. I said 'usually', Zoro." Sanji said, voice stern. "But you keep that to yourself."

"I can't promise anything." Zoro muttered. "They already fucking suspect us. How much of a stretch is it now, to the truth?"

"Just don't make it obvious. Whatever happens, we should just keep it quiet."

Zoro slung his arms around Sanji, and squeezed, just because it irritated him. "What, quiet like you were?"

Sanji shrugged Zoro off with a prickly sound, ducked away, and headed for the larder; Zoro just stood where he was, smirking to himself.

"I take it back." Sanji grunted. "I _do_ hate you."

"Sure." Zoro murmured to himself, almost under his breath. "Hate, love. Same dif."

Sanji returned limping, wok slung under his arm. "What was that?"

"Nothing." Zoro answered, grinning.

Sanji sighed, and pressed Zoro's lips with a quick, sloppy kiss, before shoving him away again, petulant. Glaring.

"Okay, I don't really hate you. But you've gotta go now..." Sanji said coolly, replacing his cigarette and taking a long slow drag.

Zoro folded his arms, blasé as anything. "I don't hate you either. But you're making it really hard to like you right now. First you take advantage of me, then you kick me out. Don't we get to cuddle, Sanji-kun?"

"Maybe later. Just get the fuck out of my kitchen for now, so I can get cleaned up and make lunch."

"Tch." Zoro turned, and swung open the door to leave.

"Ow, you fucker!! What are you trying to do, blind me?" Usopp swatted furiously at Sanji's hand.

Sanji hissed and shoved at Usopp's shoulder, then continued dabbing at the cut over his eye. "Sit fucking still. Who asked you to go lurking behind the door?"

"Oi, Usopp, you're gonna have one hell of an egg there." Luffy said appreciatively, dangling his legs from where he sat, next to Usopp on the kitchen table.

Of course Luffy was unscathed. He'd been safely behind the true culprit--Usopp--when Zoro had swung the door open with nothing less than full force.

He claimed it had been an accident. Not that he was too sorry. They'd got what was coming to them--a black eye, and an _incendiary_ scolding.

"Just how long were you two listening, anyway?" Zoro folded his arms, and shifted slightly where he stood, leaning impassively against the edge of the counter. Nope, not sorry in the least.

Usopp folded his own arms, mirroring Zoro. "We weren't listening."

"Liar." Said Luffy. "We heard _everything._" Then he made a face. "Geh. It sounded like someone trying to move furniture. Is that what it's like?"

"You shut the fuck up, don't be so vulgar! It was your idea to begin with...I didn't even want to!" Usopp turned on him, causing Sanji to slip, and throw his hands up in disgust.

"No, you shut the fuck up!" Luffy wound up his fist.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched. "Both of you shut the fuck up!"

"Honestly," said Usopp "we were waiting for lunch."

"Crouched by the door, with a glass to your ear?" Sanji asked, visibly seething. He ground out a sigh.

Usopp looked down, blushing furiously. "We didn't wanna interrupt."

"Or see!" Luffy added with a grimace.

Sanji now bordered on furious, hands jammed in his pockets, teeth grinding quite audibly.

The door swung open behind, and Nami walked in. "I was wondering where you'd all gotten to."

Sanji twisted round, looking horribly guilty, as if reminded what had started this whole mess. "N--Nami-san...we...were just discussing lunch!"

"Well, we're about an hour from the next port, I just thought you should know, before you go making anything elaborate."

"Really," said Sanji, eyebrow taking on a calculating tilt. "Does the town have a restaurant?"

"Several." Nami affirmed, looking Sanji over strangely. Zoro squirmed on his behalf.

"Well that's good, because...I don't feel very much like cooking right now."

Luffy and Usopp gasped and went wide eyed, both in abject shock. "Waahhh!"

"Sanji-san!"

"It's just an hour." Nami said with a wave. "It's not as if you'll starve."

Luffy nonetheless set about gasping, kneading his stomach, as if that _were_ the case. "B-but...Sanji said..."

"Calm down, shithead. I'd never let you starve. Though it would serve you right if I made you wait."

Luffy whimpered pathetically. "ohhh, don't even do that. I'm extra totally really sorry."

Nami jammed her hands onto her hips, and frowned suspiciously. "Sorry? What is he sorry about?"

"Ack!" Usopp bolted upright. "We were fighting over who got to help Sanji with the meal, I took a swing at Luffy...but I missed! Then he kicked me in the head, see? Right here." He pointed to the small swollen cut over his eye.

"Really?" Nami snorted. "Who kicked you? Luffy or Sanji?"

"I kicked him!" Luffy volunteered. "He cried, and bled like a stuck pig...for which I'm really sorry."

Usopp burst into very convincing tears, and whacked Luffy on the shoulder. "I forgive you, my friend! I know you were only trying to defend our cook's honor. I'm truly shamed."

Sanji face-palmed, groaning. And Nami quirked a very skeptical eyebrow.

"Really," Zoro said, smoothly. "That's what happened. I tried to break it up, but Sanji said not to interfere..."

"That's right." Said Luffy, sanguine, irrefutable.

Nami sighed, and rolled her eyes. Zoro felt very bad for her of a sudden, but he'd never let it show. "All right, then." She said with a shrug. "Everyone save your appetites, though. There's this great place in town, I hear they serve a pad thai that's really to-die for!"

Sanji looked as if someone had just killed his puppy. "Better than mine, Nami-san?"

"Well, not better." She said critically. "But nearly comparable! Don't be upset. I just thought you looked kind of tired, maybe you could use a break."

Sanji sighed, relieved, turned to Zoro. "Ah, she was just worried about me. How sweet."

"Hate you." Zoro growled, folding his arms. Sanji grinned and shoulder hugged him.

"Hah-hah, listen to this guy!" Sanji pointed at him. "Zoro, we still have an hour, why don't you make us some more of that tea?"

Zoro shrugged him off, and slouched towards the door. "Make it yourself, I'm going to take a nap."

Next port, the crew headed straight into town, only to be set upon by highwaymen. Already worn out by sun and heat, still wobbling on unsteady sea-legs; tired, distracted, and not at their best, Luffy and crew prepared grimly for the oncoming fight. They were outnumbered, and outgunned.

It was a miracle they got away as relatively unscathed as they did.

It all happened so quickly, too, barely even a scuffle. Somebody cocked a pistol, the click as loud as a thundercrack...somebody lunged at Zoro with a saber, he unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion, but a split second's inattention--'Shit, Sanji's right in the'--was all it took. Zoro misstepped.

Luffy sprung into action, "Gomu gomu no, killer punch!!!"

The pistol fired, the saber struck, two fists connected. Four men fell: Sanji thrown in a violent arc, and a spray of red, to land heavily some feet away; Zoro falling to his knees, in a defensive posture, sword drawn to dispatch the remaining thieves.

But there weren't any. Crack, crack, crack, Usopp had dispatched them all with a spray of exploding pellets; fired with rapid reflex. And Zoro let his sword drop. The dust settled. They gathered their breaths. Zoro felt something warm slide down his ribs.

"S--Sanji-san!" Luffy screamed, running to where he lay, unmoving, in a small puddle of blood.

"shit..." Zoro gasped, somehow able to drag himself up, despite limbs that felt like hot lead. "Sanji--"

"He's alive...just unconscious." Nami observed, gently turning his head. Half of his face was bloody, and there was still more. There didn't seem to be an end to it. "But this looks bad." She whispered, trying to wipe some away.

Zoro knelt beside them, and tore off his bandanna, almost knocking Nami aside to apply it. "I wasn't fast enough. I'm sorry, Sanji-san! Don't die, you fucker!"

"Ne? Zoro--" Luffy began. Zoro ignored him. "Zoro...oi, oi...I think there's something--"

"Shut-up right now..." Zoro waved him off. "Sanji! Wake up...come on...don't be dead!"

Nami brushed some of Sanji's hair aside, wiped more of the blood away. Then gave a great sigh of relief. "The bullet only just grazed him. Scalp wounds always bleed a lot." She quickly tied the bandanna into a makeshift bandage, and thumbed back Sanji's eyelids. "He's fine. He'll probably have a concussion though, we need to get him someplace safe."

They all let out a collective breath.

Zoro allowed his mouth a slight quirk. Sanji was going to have himself one hell of a headache when he woke up. I might require lots of tea. Maybe another massage.

"Well..." Said Usopp, tentatively breaking the silence. "We should get moving, then."

Zoro collapsed, sitting down hard, limbs gone leaden again. Luffy all but leapt on him.

"Zoro! You asshole, you're bleeding! I kept trying to say something..."

"I'm fine, s'just a flesh wound." Zoro tried waving him off, only to be knocked down, all too easily.

"Just lemme look at it, ba~ka!" Luffy growled, using that same churlish tone Sanji often did. "It could be serious!"

Zoro pretended he'd heard none of it, rising unsteadily to his feet, thinking 'Okay, this is bleeding a lot worse than before...'. Ignoring that thought. He couldn't leave Sanji lying out here like this. It looked like rain.

"I'll carry him." Said Zoro, swaying, leaning to lay a hand on Sanji.

"Oy, Zoro," "Let us!" Luffy and Usopp protested, waving their hands frantically.

"No, neither of you is strong enough. You'd drop him. Come on, just help get him onto my back." Zoro growled. "Carefully! Don't jostle him."

"But--"

"NOW!" Zoro barked, swaying.

Nami and Luffy moved to lift Sanji, one under each arm, oh so carefully. His head lolled back, and with a slight grimace, Usopp tipped it forward again. Zoro rolled his eyes, and growled at them to be more considerate.

"Right," said Luffy.

The two of them, with a bit of Usopp's help, lifted the limp Sanji onto Zoro, piggy-back fashion. They bound his hands and arms to keep them from slipping off Zoro's neck, and wound another rope around the both of them. Zoro grunted in pain, wound bleeding quite freely. But he was too dead-set and stubborn to even stop and let himself be bandaged.

"The faster we move, the sooner we can find a place to stop and recover." He grated out, shifting Sanji a bit higher, holding onto his knees for dear life. "Come on, it's not too far. I see buildings over there."

He left bloody foot-prints with every step, but seemed to take no notice. It was useless trying to reason with Zoro like this. Once he got his mind set on something, not even death could deter him. At the very least, Nami was able to fall in step with him, and press a handkerchief to the wound. It was saturated in no time, but she kept it there, until Usopp and Luffy gave her theirs.

So they trudged grimly into town, bleeding, battered and demoralized, but not entirely beaten.

They stopped at the first Inn they saw, under cover of stormclouds, and burst through the doors: tired, dusty, ready to collapse into whatever bed was available. The inn-keeper took one long look at the crew, and barked at them. "Out!"

Luffy and crew froze on the spot, galvanized.

"I don't allow filthy pirates in my place! All of you, out now, or I sic my dogs on the lot of ya!"

"Oi!" Luffy protested. "My men were injured in a fight...we were attacked by robbers, in _your_ town. You can't turn us away!"

"There are no robbers in this town!"

"But we were attacked!" Usopp cried, outraged. "They tried to kill us."

"That's their job, to fend off any pirates who try to set foot here."

"How could they know we were even pirates?" Luffy challenged.

"Must've seen the wanted posters. Now, if you don't wanna be turned in post-haste, I suggest you all leave quietly, without a fuss. I won't sic these dogs unless it's absolutely necessary. And I hate to turn away injured folks...but that's the rule! It's there for a reason."

Zoro sagged slightly in defeat, shifting Sanji's weight, grimacing when that jostled his injury.

Usopp was the first to spot the dogs, two gigantic mastiffs dozing in the corner. "I--it's not worth it. Luffy, let's go! We'll find someplace else...I'm sure..."

"No. We came all this way. We're tired, hurt, and hungry...and we're not leaving." Luffy was resolute.

"You really want those dogs sicced on ya, eh?" The innkeeper insisted, pointing to the corner. "'Cause that's what'll happen if you don't leave soon."

Luffy laughed. "What, those mangy looking rugs?"

"Have it your way." Said the innkeeper, sounding almost regretful. "Get 'em lads."

The two "mangy looking rugs" erupted in a sudden fury of snarls and teeth, barreling straight for Luffy and crew. With the same fierce determination with which he'd faced down their human attackers, Luffy squared off against the blood-thirsty beasts.

Stretched out his arms, grabbed onto the support struts on either side of the large room, and began drawing himself back.

"Waaah!! GOMU GOMU no....bazooka!" The outcome was really never in doubt.

Luffy caught the dogs head-on, sending them flying into the wall opposite with his recoil. Everyone grimaced, even Luffy. But it was too late to worry about what he might've done differently.

"My dogs! Oh, my precious dogs!!" The inn-keeper cried, kneeling over the now unconscious animals. "All right," he growled. "No foolin' now, you really gotta leave! Before I call the local constabulary."

Sanji chose that moment to regain consciousness, lifting his bandaged head groggily from Zoro's shoulder, looking around in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Keh." Snorted Zoro, dismissing the angry innkeeper with one last look. "Don't worry about it, we were just going anyway."

"Zoro...what's going on? Why do I feel like someone tried to bash my brains out?"

Luffy scrambled after the retreating Zoro, "Because they did, Sanji-san."

"Oh." Sanji said, dropping his head back to Zoro's shoulder. He was unconscious again, just like that.

They continued to trudge through town; Zoro looking paler and paler all the while. Everywhere they stopped, they were turned away, without exception. Some were polite about it, or reasonably so, but mostly there were threats; they were chased, pelted with rocks, vegetables, even had a few more guns pointed at them.

Same story, no matter where they looked. Until finally, it was the last straw.

"I--I can't believe no-one'll help us." Usopp gasped, about this close to tears. He stopped suddenly short in the road, and sat down right on the spot. He refused to move after that, glaring furiously at the ground; as if waiting, wanting to be swallowed up.

"Of course they won't," said Nami, dropping down to join Usopp. "We're pirates. Something must've happened here, long ago, to make them this way. Maybe there was a massacre. Who knows?"

"That shouldn't mean anything, god damn it!! Not all pirates are the same. If only we could convince them. But no one'll listen." Usopp clenched his fists in the grass and dirt, balled them up. "There's really nothing we can do. If we cause even more trouble...it's no good...they'll come down on us even harder. They might try to kill us. But we can't fight them..."

"They're just protecting their village." Nami finished for him, glum.

Zoro and Luffy just stood there, staring down at them, agape.

"And so you two are just gonna sit there, and mope like that? Shit." Zoro growled, shifting Sanji on his back. "Fine, stay there for all I care. I never realized I'd taken up with such quitters."

Usopp leapt to his feet, seething still. "Quitters?! Well what else are we supposed to do? Go back to the ship, without the provisions we came for? So we can just starve to death at sea, eating nothing but shitty oranges? _That's_ quitting if you ask me!"

Nami jumped a little, and glared at Usopp.

"Fuck, do what you want...I'm just so tired." Zoro stumbled, and would've fallen over if both Luffy and Usopp hadn't moved to catch him.

They all looked down at Nami. An agreement of sorts seemed to pass, and she rose to her feet. "There's another island...not too far from here. But it's opposite the way we came, against the wind. I suppose we can circle around and try our luck there. It's our only other choice."

As they trudged back in weary silence, the skies opened up, and began pissing down a warm miserable rain. Perfect, really. The walk seemed twice as long as before, but they reached the ship without incident, and shoved off.

Zoro made a straight, weary beeline for his quarters, Sanji still arranged limply on his back. Luffy had to follow him, in order to untie Sanji. Who woke up just in time for Zoro to collapse underneath him, in a boneless sprawl on the floor.

"Zoro!" Luffy yelped.

"I'm just a little tired..."

"You idiot, you've been stabbed." Sanji managed to free himself from their rather compromising little tangle. Standing was a much taller order, however. "Fuck, my head! God, fuck..." He had to grab a handful of bedsheets, and haul himself up. "Help me get him into bed. I swear, he hasn't got the self-preservation instinct god gave a lemming."

They both somehow managed to wrestle Zoro onto his bed, and Luffy had the forethought to grab a clean towel, which they used to staunch the renewed bleeding.

"You're lucky nothing vital was hit." Sanji spat, lightly slapping Zoro's face. Got a moan in response. "Or I'm sure you'd be dead by now, bushido ba~ka!"

Luffy frowned. "He carried you the whole way, Sanji."

"I know." Said Sanji ruefully. "Probably made his injury worse. It's going to need stitches now."

A thunderous eruption of footfalls signaled Usopp's arrival; he burst in the room with a singular purpose. "I've got the first-aide kit."

"Oi, big-nose," Sanji barked, irritably wiping sticky blood from his eye. "You know how to do sutures?"

"I--I can sew a little. I think there's a needle in here." Usopp set the kit on the nightstand, opened it, and carefully surveyed the contents. He held a curved needle up for inspection. "Will this do?"

"Good enough, someone needs to boil some water...so we can sterilize things."

Luffy stood. "I'll go."

"Good. Zoro...there's no anesthetic, I'm gonna hafta hold you down while Usopp stitches. Try to think of something else, okay? If you feel like screaming, go ahead."

Zoro's focused blearily past Sanji's concerned face, onto Usopp's wide petrified eyes, and shook his head. "Just tie me to the bed. You can't do it, not with your head messed up like that."

"The hell I can't. I'm stubborn as you are, remember? I won't quit until I die." Snarked Sanji, pressing down on Zoro's shoulders. "And I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

Zoro shuttered his eyes painfully. "You'd better not. Or I'll kill you."

Sanji just patted his cheek. "It'll be fine. Why don't you just go to sleep, let us take care of this?"

"'Kay." Zoro muttered.

By the time Luffy returned with the water, and the instruments were all sterilized, Zoro was already dozing quietly.

ived. Zoro woke up half-way through the whole procedure, absolutely stupid with panic, and Sanji needed to sit on top of him; just to keep him from injuring himself, and killing Usopp. And it was not easy. It took a lot to hold him down, every last ounce of Sanji's strength, and his full weight behind that. Straddling the terrified man's waist, pinning him to the bed.

There'd be cracks about it later, for sure, but Zoro wasn't leaving him much choice. By the time Usopp had finished stitching--twenty needed in all--he was weak-kneed and shaking, face beaded with cold sweat. Zoro and Sanji weren't much better off.

"Well, that should do it." Usopp wembled, still grinning gamely. He finished cleaning Zoro's wound; bandaged it; washed his hands; and let himself collapse to the edge of Sanji's (unoccupied) bed.

Sanji and Zoro were sacked out and tangled up together, clearly sick of each other, but lacking the will or the energy to move apart.

"Get off me," muttered Zoro.

"Can't." Sanji lolled helplessly, head pillowed on Zoro's stomach. "Ow. Kusooo." he whimpered, eyes tearing up a little. "What the hell happened?"

"You got shot in the head." Said Zoro.

"Y--you mean, there's a bullet in my skull?" Sanji quavered, digging his fingers convulsively into Zoro's arms. "i--in my brain--Zoro-san! You gotta get it out!!" He sobbed hysterically. "I don't wanna bullet in me--what if there's brain-damage? I could end up a vegetable!"

"OW! Bakayarou, yamero! It just grazed you, fucking let goooo!" Zoro batted at him ineffectually. In no time at all they were both crying, clinging, and trying to beat the snot out of each other. Which only made them cry harder. "Get off me, ple-hee-heeeze!" Zoro wailed.

"Oi," said Usopp, on that note, darting quickly for the door. "I should just leave you two love-birds alone. It's obvious you need rest...and privacy."

Zoro actually managed to lift his head, while still fending the weeping Sanji off. "One more crack like that, and tonight you die." He snarled soggily.

By way of response, Usopp pulled down his lower eyelid, and scrambled from the room.

Sanji rolled off of Zoro, only to wind up sandwiched against the wall. He gave a sniffle. "How could you hurt me like that, Zoro...after all I did.

"I'm sorry. I didn't wanna. Stupid fucker." Zoro moaned and wiped at his face. "This bed wasn't built for two. One of us needs to get up."

"Just give me a sec, until the room stops spinning." Sanji petted Zoro's arm, then wiped his nose against it.

Zoro coughed, or maybe it was a laugh, or a hiccough. He wasn't even sure himself. "Funny, you noticed it too?"

Sanji sighed against Zoro's side, the uninjured one, and rested his hand there. He seemed pretty content not to move for the moment; so Zoro let him be. "Oi, Zoro, you're really something." Sanji muttered. "Here you go around getting hacked up by swords and shit, and you're all like...whatever about it...but one little needle and thread, and you freak the hell out."

"That's because I know it's coming."

Neither of them laughed, but they both smiled; same sentiment, only less painful.

Eventually, Sanji saw fit to extricate himself, and trudge the five long feet back to his own bed. He flopped into it, and lay there fully clothed, fully shod, until his breathing evened out, and he was asleep. Sometime later, Luffy returned, and quietly cleaned and re-bandaged Sanji's wound...all without waking him. Then just as quietly, he left.

They were allowed three glorious hours of sleep, before Nami tapped the door and announced they were pulling into port. Did either of them feel well enough to disembark?

No. But Sanji didn't seem to let that deter him, he was out of bed, and changing clothes before his eyes even had a chance to open. Zoro dragged himself upright, and got a foot out of bed.

"What're you doing!?" Sanji barked.

Zoro was so taken aback, all he could do was stare, and sit there frozen. One foot on the floor, arms braced out behind.

Sanji snarled at him again. "Get back in that bed."

"Nani?"

"Don't 'what' me. You heard what I said."

"No way." Zoro slurred back, still incredulous. "I'm not wasting away here in bed, while you guys run off an' have fun in town without me."

"What fun?" Sanji snorted. "We're just stocking up on provisions. Don't worry, we'll be back before you know it."

"No," Nami peeked back in, leaning half-way into the room this time. She'd also changed wardrobe. "Actually, we're staying for a few days."

Sanji missed his shoe, almost falling over on his face. "When was this decided?"

"Just now. I was coming to tell you."

"Craptastic." Sanji muttered, trying again for his shoe.

"Hey, I just had a talk with the harbor-master." Nami continued, unfazed. "This is a pretty friendly town. I thought we could all use a little decompression time after what just happened..."

"Sugoi!" Zoro clapped his hands together. "I've had all I can stomach of this room and _him_."

"You're gonna take it easy." Sanji warned. "I don't relish the thought of having to sit on you again."

Nami smacked a hand over her eyes. "Phwoarr..."

"Oi, get outta here!" Zoro protested loudly, chasing Nami off with a thrown sandal.

"You protest too much. And that wasn't nice! Throwing a shoe at a lady..." Said Sanji, mumbling around one of his ever-present cigarettes. He seemed to have an endless supply, though Zoro never could figure out where he got, let alone kept, them all. "I should make it a point to teach you some manners from now on."

Zoro gave a small 'snerk' at this. Sanji bent down in front of the mirror, and carefully began applying kohl around his eyes. Despite the bandage, the bruised and pale appearance, he was still trying to get all dandied up. The look didn't quite work, but Zoro let him have his small measure of vanity.

Said nothing, as he hung behind Sanji, and did his best to play the nuisance. Until Sanji turned on him, with the pencil, and grabbed Zoro's chin in hand; he tilted his face up, ordering, "Look down a little."

"Do I trust you with that thing?" Zoro tried to twitch away.

"Yes, don't scrunch." Sanji applied the kohl with quick practiced strokes; his callused hand soft under Zoro's jaw. He gave Zoro's eyelids a few swipes with his thumbs, and abruptly let go. "There. Now you look extra mysterious. The chicks'll go apeshit."

"I thought I looked mysterious enough."

"Nope. Now you look like a man with a story to tell. A man with a past." Sanji pointed him at the mirror.

Zoro made a face. "A man with a drug problem. Or several."

"You look sexy, quit complaining." Sanji said sulkily, reaching for Zoro's elbow. "Now come on, you're checking straight into the hotel, and taking it easy. At least for today. Tomorrow you can run around, get pissed, screw the mayor...do whatever you want. Within reason."

"Don't I have any say in the matter?"

"No." Sanji answered, disinterested. He gave Zoro another light shove towards their suite. The rest of the party waited downstairs, and Sanji was in quite a hurry to avoid joining them. He had plans to go off on his own, he'd explained. But not to worry, he was in no mood for hanky-panky with pretty island girls today. He just wanted to find some saffron, and maybe mushrooms. Massage oil, if Zoro behaved.

Meanwhile, he was being unusually nice, even put his arm carefully around Zoro to steer him. "The doctor said you weren't allowed to lift anything, or raise your arm, for twenty-four hours."

"Well what the hell am I supposed to do in my room all day?"

Sanji shrugged. "Sleep? I dunno. You've still got two hands, why don't you jerk off or something?"

"Ah, but I'm saving myself for you 'my love.'" Zoro smarmed, trying best to drape himself over Sanji, with one arm now in a sling. Very inconvenient that.

"come on...offa me..." Sanji shrugged away. Zoro attempted to stick his tongue in Sanji's ear. "Now isn't the time for that!"

"Hey, what's keeping you already--" Luffy called down the hall, stopping abruptly short when he turned the corner. "Ohhh. Sanji-san..."

Zoro banged his head against the door with a single frustrated thump. Would they never have a minute's privacy?

"I didn't think I'd be interrupting anything...again." Then the brat grinned at them.

Sanji took on a threatening posture, which is to say, jammed his hands in his pockets. "Stop looking so smug."

Luffy pulled an innocent face. "Smug, me?"

"Oh dear," Said Zoro suddenly, "I think Sanji looks a bit faint...doesn't he? Look faint, that is?"

Luffy quirked an eyebrow.

"huh?" Said, Sanji, muttering. "But I don't feel..."

"Shh! You look pale, I don't think you should go sightseeing. You might suddenly pass out, and then...it would be bad."

"Oh right, yeah, you do look kinda dizzy, Sanji-san. I think Zoro's right. You shouldn't be on your feet right now." Luffy raised a scolding finger.

Sanji looked about ready to kick him through a wall.

"Yes. You look unwell...Sanji. You should...stay behind so I can look after you, and make sure you don't die or anything.

"He wants you to stay, Sanji." Luffy pulled an unidentifiable expression. He was no longer teasing. "He cares about you; he's just too full of himself to outright say anything."

"Why you--" Zoro bristled. No-one had ever accused Luffy of being the brighest sort, but every now and then, he had his moments. He could be frighteningly perceptive at times.

Sanji grimaced painfully. "Now that I think about it, I'd rather stay here and deal with him, than put up with your crap for another hour.

"Hey, we'll take two hours if you want, Sanji. Don't worry, we'll come back and get you before dinner-time." Luffy turned to leave, then doubled back around. "Just hang a sock on the door or something..."

"Shit." Sanji hissed. "Listen, you fucking monkey-brat, If you say one word about anything in front of Nami-san, true or not...your ass is pot-roast."

"yeek!" Luffy pulled another indescribable face, then lolloped off, laughing.

Zoro watched him go with a shrug, then turned to Sanji. "That wasn't very nice, man. You know, he's just trying to be understanding..."

"You could've just asked if I'd stay." Sanji snorted and unlocked the door, pushed it open. "That was just the saddest display I've ever been witness to."

He walked into the suite, without so much as looking around, kicked off his shoes, and flopped down on the couch.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"By a paper-thin margin." Sanji made a pinching gesture. "Siddown. Might as well get comfortable, since we may be here a while." Sanji motioned vaguely about the room at large. Then, as if on cue, he lit up a cigarette. "Oi, you feeling okay? You look bad."

Zoro settled onto couch next to Sanji, leaning carefully into the cozy looking corner, sinking back with an unbidden grimace. "I'm fine. Just a little sore."

Sanji blew out a smoky sigh, and quite unbidden, reached down, and pulled Zoro's legs across his lap. "You're more than a little sore, you stubborn idiot. You're in pain."

"A little pain is nothing. If I'm gonna be the world's strongest, I can't let it get to me." Zoro muttered lazily.

"Uruseh." Sanji groaned, untying Zoro's boots, easing them off. "If I catch you trying to lift weights in this condition...I really will tie you to the bed."

"Why wait?"

"Just calm it down." Sanji rolled Zoro's ankle in his hands, then carefully rubbed the sole of his foot. "No sexy-business until you heal. Any strain could re-open your wound."

"You think I'd let that stop me?"

"No. And that's why you've got such awful scars." Sanji said quietly, lifting and rubbing Zoro's other foot.

"That upsets you?"

Sanji frowned. "Yeah. It bothers me that you don't seem to care. You're not invincible, you know. You need to show a little fucking regard for your health. Or, how else are you gonna get stronger?"

"Training and diligence. That's the only way."

"Che'. Well not this week. I'm keeping a super close eye on you, bushido baka. Lift so much as a book, and I'll throw all your weights overboard."

"You couldn't even lift them."

"Then I'll roll them."

"I'll just lift flour-sacks."

Sanji ducked his chin, stubbornly. "Then I'll knock you down and kneel on your arms until you give up."

"Then what?"

And Sanji finally favored him a Look; like he had the day before, in the galley. And despite the paleness, the bruising, the beaten eyes, he was just as beautiful as before. Like tarnished gold, tired brilliance just barely showing under the patina of ill use.

"Then I'll kiss you. Then I'll put you in bed, and hold you down until you're better again."

"So, you do care." Zoro said, grinning wearily.

"Never said I didn't. I feed you, don't I?" Sanji looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. Possibly the saddest sigh he'd ever uttered. "I can't help but care. It's a great fault of mine."

Zoro thought he quite possibly loved Sanji. But in a rather vague, all-purpose way. He couldn't be sure that wouldn't pass too. He wanted to kiss him quickly, before it did, but was too tired to get up. Didn't matter, because Sanji moved for him. Shifted Zoro's foot, and crawled up between his legs to nestle.

Carefully, mindful of Zoro's pinioned arm, and bandaged wound. Sanji settled on top of him, and lay there like he belonged, and he'd been waiting for just this moment. Hand curled slightly against Zoro's collarbone, and Zoro holding his breath. Sanji sighed.

"Is it okay if I stay like this...for just a while?" Sanji muttered. He sounded tired. Didn't sound much in the mood for kissing, or anything remotely like they'd done in the kitchen.

Zoro let out his breath, and laid his sound arm about Sanji's shoulders. "Yeah. Sure."

"You really had me worried, you asshole." Sanji whimpered. "I'm sorry...damn it. Crying again..."

"It's okay," Zoro absently rubbed his back, feeling Sanji relax into him, his breath even out. "I'm not going anywhere. Just...try not to move around too much."

Zoro continued rubbing his back, and Sanji just lay there, content. When Zoro's side began to cramp, he allowed Sanji to lead him to bed, sit him down on the edge. Zoro kissed him lazily before he could protest.

Sanji made a little 'tch' sound, then pushed Zoro back carefully; joining him without a weary crawl, to lie passed out, a slight Sanji-like smile on his lips. And before sleep overcame him, Zoro squeezed Sanji, and whispered to him, sure he couldn't possibly have heard.

"Oi, fucker, love you."

~Owari~