One Piece 1. Contact

Hi everyone. This is the first proper piece of fanfiction that I've written in about three years. Not only that, it marks my first ever attempt at any kind of romantic anything. Well, it's not really romantic...it's more like a strange sort of tension. And worst part is that I got the idea for this when I was watching an oh-so-innocent re-run of Full House...I know I'm a sicko.

I do not own One Piece in any way, shape, or form.

Shameless

A lazy ring of smoke wafted through the air as slender fingers stubbed out the cigarette butt in their grasp. Sometimes, it wasn't worth fighting for things like a quick fix of nicotine-Chopper had directly ordered him not to smoke around the 'patient.' Sanji didn't particularly care if he was discovered; that wasn't it at all. What disturbed him was that he derived no pleasure from the act-he didn't even want a cigarette in the goddamned first place. He had only desired a momentary amusement; some shred of normality, to distract him from the aggravating task which he had been expressly assigned.

A low sigh escaped the cook as his line of vision shifted back onto his current charge. The blonde had been hanging off the back of the same chair in the Going Merry's cabin for quite a while now, positioned at the bedside of a soundly sleeping cabbage-head.

"Shit swordsman," he grunted loudly. The chef would never have even been in this position, in the first place, if Nami-san had not asked him so sweetly to stay and watch over their crewmate. The navigator had left with Chopper to find some sort of herb or something after they had docked at the current random port on the Grand Line...she had insisted upon accompanying the little reindeer so that he would not be cheated out of extra money at the apothecary. Robin had been sitting on deck reading for hours and, being the gentleman that he was, Sanji was unable to ask her to keep an eye on Zoro instead. Usopp was naturally running around being an idiot, collecting random items for his latest invention-the sniper was too busy to have any part of such a boring job. And as for Luffy-he was god-knows-where, probably off eating some meat at a local restaurant...

This was not how the blonde had intended to spend his afternoon-not by any stretch of his imagination. Sitting around watching his idiot crewmate sleep had been boring him to tears. The only thing that consoled the cook was that the swordsman wasn't snoring...he was quiet and still, most likely due to his new injury of the week. Usually, the jerk wasn't down for this long...it had already been about a day since he had been stabbed in the shoulder. Sanji had his own souvenirs from that fight in the form of some annoying bruises and some light slices. Nothing too bad.

Chopper had been speculating on the swordsman's injuries, thinking that perhaps the blade that stabbed him had been tipped with some form of poison. This was of course because the first mate would have, in almost any other circumstance, been up doing his katas on the deck like usual. The fever that the sleeping man had contracted, this morning, was as good as proof to the doctor. ...And this was why he was out getting supplies with lovely Nami-san while the chef was left to rot.

The blonde let his eyes drift slowly over the body before him-at least the marimo wasn't nearly as annoying while he was asleep. In fact, Sanji mused while reaching for his cigarettes, he was far more pleasant this way...

He chewed on one of the sticks of tabacco in annoyance, simultaneously digging in both pants pockets for his lighter. The blonde patted down all of his remaining pockets, then checking in the pockets of his black suit jacket that was draped over his chair. "What the? Where is it?" he muttered in frustration.

The cook jumped up from his chair, once more taking inventory of every one of his pockets. This was getting annoying. A sudden explosion rocked the ship, the blonde crying out as he lost his balance. His eyes widened past their usual half-lidded gaze as the truth dawned on him.

"Usopp!" he bellowed, clenching his fist. Pounding footsteps were coming across the deck outside. The door of the cabin swung open, the sniper's soot-black face popping in.

"I'm almost done with it! I just borrowed it for a second! I'll give it back in a little while!"

The door had slammed closed again before Sanji was able to shout the string of curses running through his head. He shouted them anyhow, finally cracking-he ripped the unlit cigarette from his teeth, the blond throwing it down angrily. He turned to the stagnating swordsman, approaching the side of the bed.

"This is all _your _fault, you shit swordsman." Just as he had spoken the words, the man below him had twitched slightly...it startled the cook a bit, watching as the swordsman's lips parted slightly. His tan skin was not as pale as it had been this morning...that was a pretty good sign, the chef supposed. His eyes couldn't help but roam over the man in front of him, trailing from his relaxed facial features to where his rippled stomach disappeared under the blanket of the bed. The white bandages surrounding his shoulder were bright against his skin, no longer holding a red bloodstain like before Chopped had changed them, this morning.

The chef was disturbed to find himself admiring the man's finely toned chest and arms-they had been finely tuned with endless hours of physical training. Each and every one had been carefully conditioned, leaving the swordsman with an optimal set of taut muscles. The long, raised scar that ran across them only proved to enhance their shape and further justify their presence. Any man who could survive such an injury was worthy of this excellent form-such muscles were not just for show.

Some part of the blond knew that he shouldn't be thinking any of his current thoughts...yet he wasn't able to stop himself. The man was completely unaware of the daze he was falling into. And suddenly, he had a strange urge to reach out and run his hand along them...to feel their sharp curves underneath his palm. This idea made his hand flex nervously. He wouldn't do it, of course...

That would be ridiculous. What if the cabbage-head woke up? What if Usopp came to bother him again? What if Nami-san and Chopper came back? Not only would he be caught feeling-up his ill crewmate but he would lose any and all chances that he'd ever had of getting with Nami-san or Robin-chan...But his eyes continued staring down on that fine set of muscles, trailing up the swordsman's chest to his neck... And then, ever so slowly, the chef's eyes settled on Zoro's face.

Sanji had curiously began to study the man's features. The chef had never bothered to look very closely before, now finding himself fascinated by the lines and angles of what he had previously described as a "marimo-head." It left him with a strange feeling of need, the blonde's hand creeping out towards the sleeping man...god; he just couldn't help himself. The temptation was gnawing at him.

The pale hand froze in midair as his thoughts fled back to safer topics-like the two lovely ladies he was luck enough to have as his crewmates: Nami and Robin. Surprisingly, no flutter came to his stomach. No matter how much he swooned for their attention, the two women really didn't seem to care about him more than any pirate would care for another crewmate. But, more often than not, he was fooled so strongly by the promise of something more that he was willing to do a marathon of back-flips for either of them.

His hand crept a few centimeters closer to his goal before stopping once more. Maybe he really didn't love either of them; maybe he never would. Maybe he was just a pathetic love-cook, after all-one who was so starved for attention that he would chase almost any woman he saw, in the hopes that one might like him back. Unfortunately he had been rather unlucky with this, so far...

And now, here he was with this excellent specimen just laid out in front of him like a birthday cake. Heaven knows that the swordsman slept like a rock and, combined with some poison and a stab-wound, he wouldn't be much likelier to awaken... Sanji reached out to slap his own hand away in frustration, letting out a mumbled variation of the string of curses he had used earlier.

It must have been some sort of cosmic joke, the chef mused, that he could be so entranced with the body of a _man_-a man that he usually disliked quite strongly. But instead of being downright annoying with his annoying voice and annoying face and annoying everything...he was quiet and peaceful. His usually distasteful expression was relaxed and his rough voice had been silenced. While Zoro slept, he was a neutral being who no longer hated Sanji. So, the cook decided, it was all right for him to continue his current line of thought...for if Zoro didn't hate _him_, then the chef had no reason to hate Zoro. Thus it was officially excusable.

"...That's it," his quiet voice conceded. A pale arm was extended a moment later, the slender fingers trembling slightly as they lightly stroked at the swordsman's cheek. The blond was startled at the contact but pleased by it at the same time...a strange feeling was going through him. He stroked the man's cheek once more, this time allowing his skin to touch his crewmate's more fully...and his fingers continued, dancing down his neck and then moving carefully across his muscular chest.

Sanji exhaled softly, aware of something inside of him melting. That wasn't a good sign. The cook knew that this could never be allowed to happen again. If he enjoyed it too much, there would be nothing but trouble for him in the future. His hand was still caressing the swordsman's chest as he realized that this had already gone way too far-the whole situation had spiraled out of the blonde's control. And now he couldn't stop. It was too late.

The chef's hand seized up abruptly as a groan of discomfort and the jangling of three golden earrings echoed throughout the silent cabin. Shit! Zoro's head rolled across the pillow, the man's calm expression changing to a pained one. He was starting to wake up.

Sanji's hand was frozen against the swordsman's taut muscles, the cook's mind going blank with a mix of indescribable embarrassment and panic.

BLAM!

The cook's saving grace came in the form of a massive explosion from the deck-the caravel gave a mighty lurch, literally throwing Sanji's thin form across the man in bed. Zoro gave a muffled cry of agony as the lanky blond was hurled on top of him, his eyes popping wide open. The man was writhing in pain beneath him as the blond scrambled back onto the cabin floor with eyebrows furrowed.

"What the fuck was that!"

Zoro, however, had once more fallen limply against his pillow. The swordsman was taking death breaths of air, brow furrowed in agony. "...Y-you spiral bastard!" he coughed out weakly, still looking feverish.

"Shaddup!" Sanji yelled, jumping to his feet once more. "I've had to sit here and watch you sleep for an hour while Nami-san and Chopper are out!"

The blonde traded a few more insults with the swordsman, mainly to re-establish their previous relationship in his mind. The object of his affections was no more-that muscular, well-built body had once again become possessed by Zoro. The green-haired man did not inject his usual bitter fervor into his comebacks. Sanji wrote this off to the fact that he still had poison in his system. And, after the cook's final use of the term "cabbage head," Zoro let out a deep breath of air and began to lose himself to unconsciousness once again.

The blond knew that he couldn't stay in the cabin anymore-he might be tempted towards a repeat of his earlier performance. He simply couldn't allow himself anything of the sort. No matter how much he wanted it, he knew it could never continue. The sooner he crushed his own hopes, the better.

So, Sanji let his hand hover over the knob of the cabin door for a moment, listening as the swordsman's breathing slowed back down. He turned the brass knob with a slight creak, freezing his movements with a start as he heard a voice from behind him.

"Hey cook," Zoro's quiet voice called after him. The blonde did not turn to face him. "...You're shameless."

Sanji made no response as he hurried from the room.

And only the swordsman's weak laughter was at his back.

Well, there you have it. I had a fun time writing this-its main purpose was to keep me busy me as I wait for the next chapter of _Tiger Hunt_. So yeah, I know I'm pathetic. But hey, if you liked it then leave me a review... I might be tempted to write some more stuff.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Unpleasantries

Alright everyone...since the first chapter of this was so much fun I decided that I really should write the second part that I'd been mulling over. I think the first was fine on its own...but we'll see how this goes, hm? Plus, I'm _still_ waiting for the next chapter of Tiger Hunt. Dah, oh the torture...

(By the way: I realized, after I posted the first piece of this, that the changes they made to this site in my 3 year absence are really assanine. And the weird formatting thingie "document manager", or whatever, really aggravated me.** Can someone tell me where my little stars went? Or why two dashes in a row turns back into one? Or why I can only have one exclamation point at the end of a sentence?** And I bolded that because it won't let me put exclamation points in addition to questions marks. God that's irritating...)

I own no part of One Piece.

Shameless II

A slight shiver ran through the man in bed. It was taking him an annoying amount of effort to peel his tired eyes open. They finally cooperated, letting him stare blankly up at the ceiling of the Going Merry's cabin. It had felt like years since the green-haired man had last been awake. He had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past two days, all the while sporting a completely ridiculous fever. The man hadn't been able to tell Nami from Chopper in his constant daze.

But here he was, gazing up at the ceiling tiredly, with a pretty good degree of awareness...it made him wonder just what the hell had happened to him, now that he was capable of such thought processes. The swordsman had some vague memories of falling over after the battle had ended. And then some more of Chopper bandaging his stab-wound...but as the memories went on they became fewer and more distorted. Well, it didn't matter what the fuck had happened. All he knew was that he was never gonna let it happen again. End of discussion.

His hand twitched slightly as his brain commanded it to move. The appendage reluctantly obeyed, lifting with the rest of his arm. The man sighed deeply as the callused skin of his palm connected with his forehead.

_'Damnit, who knew headaches could even get this bad...'_

He writhed slightly under the covers, attempting to stretch out his stiff muscles...his elbow knocked something, the swordsman suddenly noticing that here was a weight pressing down on him. He squeezed his eyes closed as his head throbbed in confusion. The green-haired man blindly let his hand investigate...the air flooded out of his lungs as his fingertips met with the skin of a face. That sure as fuck wasn't gravity.

Zoro's eyes popped wide open-his skin was already pale from illness yet it managed another few shades as his eyes met with the top of a blonde head. All he could do was stare, convinced that he was having another one of the strange hallucinations that he had been growing so familiar with lately.

Not only was this blonde head resting on his chest, there was an adjoining arm, covered by a blue pinstriped shirt sleeve, draped across the bare skin of his tan stomach. The rest of the intruder's body was curled against the swordsman's side. The green-haired man twitched, mind falling completely blank.

"...What...the..." his scratchy voice barely whispered.

His hand reached out tentatively, certain that he would regret his next course of action. The man knew he would be much happier by just classifying this as a crazy fever-dream and giving in to his body's desire to sleep some more. But he proceeded anyway. And his fingers sank into the blonde hair slowly...his hand seized a fistful. And he lifted the face from its resting-place on his chest. ...And the swordsman was so shocked that he could barely keep himself from dropping it once more.

Sanji's face was glaring up at him like the sun, causing him to flinch. The shit cook was still asleep, for god's sakes. Who the fuck could sleep while their hair was nearly being yanked out by the roots? He carefully set down the man's head, once more-mainly to be kind to his own wounds as opposed to Sanji's skull. And the swordsman laid there quietly, completely shell-shocked.

Finally the former bounty hunter's wits had somewhat returned to him-sickness and surprise had stolen the rest. His first thought was naturally to throw the cook off of him quite unkindly...but he didn't have enough strength. How pitiful.

"Get the hell off of me," he tried weakly, feeling himself wheeze from the effort. "You shit cook," he said a little louder, voice still sounding quiet in the empty cabin. The green-haired man gasped for breath as he struggled to sit up, Sanji's body rolling off of him. The movement made him lightheaded and the swordsman suddenly felt as though he couldn't hear or see very well...and after the black had cleared from his vision he noticed a wide awake Sanji staring at him.

The cook was just picking himself off the cabin floor, following his rude-awakening. The man dusted himself off with a few grumbles. "The thanks I get," he was muttering in an annoyed tone.

"You shameless spiral bastard," Zoro managed breathily-he really was feeling rotten. The blonde just laughed.

"You really are sick," he commented. "That was the lamest insult you've ever given me, not to mention that it's a blatant repeat." The cook shoved his hands in his pockets, beginning to turn towards the door.

"Cook, what the hell are you talking about?" Zoro rasped after the man, coughing slightly. His head was still pounding...the yelling didn't really help anything either. Sanji flashed a grin back at him.

"...Good. That's the answer I was hoping for. And don't do anything stupid until I bring back Chopper."

The swordsman's brow was furrowed in frustration as the cabin door closed behind the cook. His back hunched tiredly. What the blonde had said moments ago was boggling the green-haired man's fevered mind. It didn't make any sense...he had no memory of calling Sanji a "shameless spiral bastard" before. "Spiral bastard" was naturally one of his old favorites...but...shameless?

The man flopped back in bed, sighing heavily. The clattering of hooves on the deck was faintly audible, closely followed by the cabin door bursting open and a tiny reindeer bounding in.

"Zoro!" Chopper cried, his large eyes wobbling happily. "You're awake!"

The former bounty hunter couldn't help but be bothered by this reception...he managed to sit up in bed again. "Yeah," he muttered, running a hand through his cropped hair.

Zoro's headache intensified as the ship's doctor launched into a long narrative, explaining that the swordsman had been poisoned and had been sick for a few days-keeping close to the injured man's original estimate of two days. This information greatly irritated him. He was way off on his training. It would take more than double-effort to make up for all the lost time.

Chopper continued his excitedly stuttered tale while checking the swordsman's bandages. "...So Nami-san took me to this shop in the town we stopped at and I got the supplies I needed to make the antidote...but I wasn't totally sure what the poison was so I made something to keep your fever down..." Blah blah blah. The little reindeer didn't seem to have the capacity to think that a man like Zoro would enjoy hearing so much about his own weakness.

"...So yesterday I finally perfected the medicine I was working on and it was just in time, too, because your fever was really high, the highest it had been! So Nami-san and Sanji-kun helped me take care of you but then the poison got very bad, suddenly, and you got so cold that we thought you might die!" the reindeer cried dramatically, hooves thrown in the air to show his distress. Zoro nodded boredly.

"We lit the fire and brought another blanket but we had no more ways to keep your temperature from dropping!" A green eyebrow twitched. "So that's why Sanji-kun was here when you woke up. It was to keep you warm, last night. And it worked!" He clapped his hooves together happily.

The green-haired man nodded in drowsy understanding. "I see, now..." he told the doctor. "That devil, Nami, must've asked him to..." he growled. Chopper blinked at him.

"Nami-san didn't ask him...Sanji-kun volunteered."

The swordsman's mouth fell open.

And out on the deck, where Sanji stood smoking a cigarette in the cool breeze and bright sunshine, the cook could hear a voice angrily yelling:

"Shameless bastard!"

Hahah. That was kinda funny. The first part was a lot better. But drop me a review if you cared for it. This story is officially finished now so there's zero chance of me adding to it again. But it's been fun. Maybe I'll start up another one, pretty soon-if I get a good idea. And I'll check all you crazy fanfiction kids later...


	3. The Search

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Well, I think I said I'd never write more of this. But inspiration is a funny thing that strikes you at weird moments. So please enjoy this new chapter of Shameless!

I do not own One Piece no way, no how.

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Shameless III

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Sanji grunted, flicking the ashes off his cigarette.

He was a world class chef. He was a world class fighter. He was a world class pirate, for god's sakes, and a pretty damn handsome one at that. The lanky blond man was many things, he mused to himself as he sauntered down the cobblestone street, but he was no babysitter. Definitely not.

The cook finally tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out as he continued on his way. He had been trying to convince Nami for the longest time that she should spring a few bucks to get a leash for Zoro, but the red head wasn't buying it. Every single port they went to, no matter how big, small, or well-labeled, was a pit-fall for the swordsman. The other Straw Hats had developed a system for choosing the person who had to go and look for him. Unfortunately, one of the things that Sanji hadn't been that day was lucky. He had picked the short straw, to his crewmates' relief. And here he was.

His irritation with the swordsman had been greatly magnified, as of late. He wasn't sure what was causing it. It had almost been two weeks since...he winced, remembering the incident. Zoro, however, apparently didn't remember a thing. It only gave the blond a minimal amount of relief. To think that he could've actually had those feelings for any amount of time...it simply disgusted him. Zoro was the most pig-headed idiot he had ever met. Even trying to have a conversation with him made the cook's blood boil. He had felt compelled, therefore, to be as rude as he could to the other man ever since then to make up for it.

What made him even angrier, he frowned while letting his black shoe kick the pavement, was that Zoro really didn't seem to care. And the rest of the crew had just just looked on it as the pair's normal arguing. He had even bothered to serve the marimo a raw boar's leg for dinner, one night, instead of the expertly roasted and sliced meat he gave to the rest of the crew. And what had been the swordsman's response? Nothing. He just ate it.

Sanji grit his teeth angrily at this recollection, letting his curled eyebrows furrow above his displeased stare. He turned his narrowed eyes up to do another sweep of the area. The blond paused in his journey momentarily, knowing that he had walked every street in this tiny town and not seen Zoro anywhere. A quick check of the sky told him that it was getting to be evening. The stupid bastard was either asleep, somewhere, or in a bar. There was a bar within sight, sure enough, so the cook made his way towards it with a grumble of annoyance.

He didn't need to get very close to the establishment before hearing some rough laughter from the local drunken losers. He passed through the doors with a skeptical expression, scanning the room for the lost cabbage-head. He spied the man sitting at the bar, a mug of alcohol sitting in front of him. It was most likely not his first. The blonde was about to approach but held back, seeing the bartender speaking with his crewmate. His anger and annoyance died down as his curiosity spiked. The cook instead took a seat, listening in on the conversation. The bar was mostly empty, but there was at least one rowdy guy in the opposite corner making it a challenge for Sanji to hear what was being said.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," the bartender's deep baritone was booming in a genial tone. "I haven't had that problem since I was younger, though." He was an older man with huge shoulders and a thick beard. He was chuckling as he wiped an empty mug with the rag in his hands.

The swordsman didn't respond, just taking another slow sip of his drink.

"So you're pretty sure about it?"

Zoro shrugged after a moment, setting the mug down with a dull thunk.

"Yeah. Pretty sure."

"Hmm..."the larger man mused, stroking his beard. "Well, I'm sure that you're on the move a lot."

"Yeah."

"It's probably just cabin fever, then," he laughed. "Other seamen have fallen victim to it as well."

Zoro's three katanas clinked together as he shifted on the bar stool.

"I don't like to think about it," he answered finally, then chugging the rest of his drink.

The noise from the rowdy corner of the bar flared up again and several lines of conversation were lost to the blonde.

"So that's it, then?"

"...Yeah." The bartender smiled bemusedly at this bleak response, putting the clean mug away and beginning to wipe the counter.

"Well, good luck to you."

"Thanks. How much?"

The blond listened as Zoro paid. The bartender gave him another free pint; for the interesting story, he said. The green haired man bid him farewell with a wave, but Sanji had to watch it from the front window of the building to retain his stealth. He waited outside the door for his crewmate, lighting up a cigarette in the meantime. The cabbage-head was in no hurry.

"Hey," Sanji barked from around his cigarette. The other man had just passed through the doorway, looking up at the cook with an irritated frown. "Everyone's waiting."

Zoro nodded, beginning to walk in the wrong direction. Sanji smacked himself in the forehead.

"It's this way, idiot."

They began the walk to the docks in silence, the blond taking a last long drag on his cigarette before tossing it down. The green haired man was lagging in his pace.

"You're plastered, marimo," the cook chastised, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Hardly," the other man ground out. It didn't help his case that he stumbled directly after uttering these words. The blonde turned a scrutinizing eye on his crewmate. Zoro had never been one to get drunk easily. Usually, he would fall asleep from all the alcohol before anyone could actually see him drunk. The green haired man obviously couldn't sleep inside a bar, no matter how friendly the bartender was, so this time he was forced to deal with the results. The cook couldn't imagine how much grog it had taken to get the swordsman to this state, but he had a good guess from the bartender's demeanor.

As this thought passed the blonde, Zoro finally leaned an arm out to the brick building they were passing. His balance was pretty off by this point and his head bowed from dizziness. The cook stopped next to him, waiting patiently for him to straighten up and continue on. It was a minute or two before the swordsman made a move.

"My head is killing me," he murmured, finally pushing off the support of the wall and staggering fowards. Sanji felt a slight pang in his chest as he watched his crewmate walk ahead. How many bounty hunters, he wondered to himself, would ever imagine the Pirate Hunter Zoro in such a state? If any enemies were nearby, it would be a sad situation. But Zoro, the cook reminded himself, could put up a hell of a fight. It amazed the blond, sometimes, that the man could even lift his swords with so many injuries let alone defeat his opponents in that sort of condition.

The blonde let his mind wander, watching the other man walk ahead of him. His eyes traced Zoro's outline, taking in his every curve and angle. He shook his head violently, turning his eyes away and digging his hands into his pockets. There would be no more thoughts like that. Never again.

Sanji was started back to reality as the man ahead of him stumbled once more, falling almost to the ground. He caught himself on his hands, dragging himself back to his feet. Before Sanji even knew what he was doing, he had grabbed the swordsman's arm and slung it over his shoulder.

"You idiot, we're never going to get back to the ship at this rate."

"Let go of me, you spiral bastard," Zoro spat, trying to pull away.

"Stop being a baby. If I don't get back and start cooking, soon, Luffy's going to eat the Merry."

Zoro gave a frustrated sigh, the puff of air tickling Sanji's ear. The blonde held back his shiver, trying to remember how irritating and infuriating the green haired man was. He tried to fill his mind with their worst arguments and insults. He tried to remind himself of the reality of his relationship with Zoro: they pretty much couldn't stand each other. There was no way to idealize it.

But the warmth and weight of the other man's body was so tangeible, next to him, that he was suddenly lost. Lost in the feeling of being so close. The smell of his crewmate was intoxicating, even behind the man's strongly alcohol-scented breath.

The further they walked, the heavier Zoro became on his shoulders. By the time they had reached the ship, the swordsman was more or less passed out. His swords clanked together as Sanji dragged him to the men's cabin and pushed him over into one of the hammocks. It wasn't the one Zoro usually slept in, but the one the cook used.

The blonde stared down at the softly snoring man for a bit, interrupted as Luffy barged in.

"Sanji! You found Zoro?" he inquired, peeking at the green haired man's sleeping form. "Great! I want some meat, now!"

The blonde nearly laughed, quietly shutting the cabin door behind him before heading to the galley.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I think I might have to write another companion piece to this chapter from Zoro's point of view, just to even out the odds a little. We can't have Sanji stealing the show, right? Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading!


	4. The Hunch

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Here's the next part.

I do not own One Piece. Not even a little.

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Shamelss IV

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His eyelids parted slowly, the man blearily gazing upwards.

The swordsman was laying in a hammock, he began to realize. He was back on the Going Merry. It seemed to be night from the extremely dim lighting. He could faintly hear the breathing of his commrades surrounding him, coming from each of their own hammocks. Luffy's was more like a full on snore, however. And Usopp was starting to mutter in his sleep, something that the swordsman had never really noticed him doing before; this was probably because Zoro almost always slept like a rock.

He felt himself frown, shutting his eyes against the pain in his head. Zoro was a very good sleeper. He was perhaps a more skilled sleeper than swordsman, in fact. He could fall asleep anywhere, anytime and sleep through just about anything. He was as good at sleeping as he was at getting lost._ 'So why,' _the man's mind wondered, _'can I not sleep through this fucking hangover?!'_

Zoro found himself reluctant to move, his head aching so badly that he could hardly even believe it. He had certainly felt worse pain many times before, but those instances seemed very far away to him. Everything felt far away, dulled by the stabbing pain in his head. The green haired man was straining his mind, trying to think back...he had been drinking, he was sure of it. He had no clue just how much alcohol he had consumed that afternoon. It had probably been enough to poison three lesser men.

The man finally swung a leg over the side of the hammock, expecting it to touch the floor. Zoro recieved an unpleasant surprise when it did not, his heavy black boot swinging in midair.

"What the fuck..." he murmured, very irritated and very disoriented. He looked over the edge, realizing that he was not in his normal hammock. His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, supposing he had been too drunk to tell them apart earlier. Then again, he pondered while swinging the other leg over, he really couldn't remember climbing into a hammock at all. In fact, he could hardly remember how he had made it back to the ship. Lord knows he wouldn't have been able to find it even if he had been sober as a judge, not with his poor sense of direction...

He didn't trouble himself over it, gingerly sliding down to the floor. His boots made a dull thunk as he landed but none of his commrades stirred from their slumber. The swordsman stumbled in the near darkness, fumbling around for his swords--nothing beat a hangover like vigorous excersize, right? His blindly groping hand finally managed to close around the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji. The swordsman sighed, settling for just one sword tonight. Picking up the other two seemed like too much work. His head was pounding and he wanted to distract himself from it as soon as possible.

The night air was cool as he finally stepped out onto the deck of the Going Merry. Zoro inhaled deeply, feeling refreshed by this change of atmosphere. He clasped his katana in hand, leaning on the deck railing and staring out at the open water. Nami had wanted to leave port as soon as the log pose was set--it took three and a half days, so the crew had plenty of time to stock up on supplies and check out the island. Needless to say, there hadn't been much to check out. Their captain had also been quite eager to head somewhere new. To the rubber man's chagrin, most of the islanders were vegetarians. There really hadn't been much meat of any kind on the island, owing to the fact that all of the species of animals living there were simply too small to eat. Zoro had been compelled, partially by hunger and partially by the prodding of the rest of the crew, to wrestle a sea king for dinner one night. Even Sanji had been thankful for this, showing his gratitude by actually preparing Zoro's portion of the meal.

It had taken the green haired man a while to notice it, but Sanji seemed determined to piss him off, lately. It had become apparent to him over the course of the last few days. He hadn't really minded the raw boar's leg. He was slightly irritated when he had been woken from his afternoon nap three days in a row. But he had really been pissed when he was woken from that nap again, on the fourth day, to the sound of his katanas (which had been carefully stood up in a row next to his sleeping form) being kicked over. It was like the stupid cook was trying to get his attention. Like he wanted to be noticed.

Zoro felt his shoulders shrug reflexively. He honestly didn't care what the cook was thinking. All he knew was that he was steadily becoming very angry. He had sensed some change in the blonde a few weeks prior. It had started with the most recent life-threatening injury the swordsman sustained. Since he had been laid up for several days, and poisoned no less, he had trouble recalling all the details. Besides, a man like Zoro did not like to dwell in the past too much. It distracted from the present, and from the attainment of his goals. All he knew was that he had woken up from that poison induced illness, one morning, with that damn spiral-eyebrow bastard passed out on top of him. And he had been very unhappy.

He shifted his weight off the railing, freeing Wadou Ichimonji from its sheath with a hiss of steel. The man was getting angry just thinking about that stupid cook. His body was moving automatically, then, as he began his katas. The swordsman had done them so many times that the movments were practically instinct for him. There was a slight breeze ove the ocean, making his open shirt flap against his arms. The swordsman swung his weapon surely, over and over again. Sweat was gathering on his forehead and his biceps were burning in response to his powerful strikes.

"Hey marimo."

The swordsman continued to slash at the air--he had sensed someone appraching and was therefore not startled. He couldn't turn and look at Sanji, however, because he might've actually sliced the man. The blonde simply stood by and watched him finish his set. Zoro caught the smell of cigarette smoke in the air.

"What are you doing out here, idiot?" the blonde was saying, mumbling around his cigarette. Zoro lowered his sword annoyedly and looked over his shoulder to the cook behind him. He was leaned back against the deck railing, his pinstriped shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows and a skeptical look on his shadowed face. The darkness made it hard for the two men to see each other, but the green haired man wasn't botherd.

"Practicing."

"You slept through dinner," the cook informed him from behind a veil of lazily drifting smoke. Zoro just grunted, beginning to swing his katana once more. "It was sea king. I thought you'd be crushed."

"I had enough sea king," he retorted, mind filled with memories of his catch. It hadn't been easy, especially since none of the crew had wanted to help. Usopp, who was too chicken to tangle with a sea king, had of course been telling them stories of his own sea king catches. Nami obviously hadn't felt the need to assist the mighty pirate hunter Zoro and Robin was unable to help, because of her devil fruit abilities. In fact, Luffy and Chopper were faced with the same issue. And Sanji was just too lazy. 'I'll have to cook it, so you can catch it,' were his words as he helped himself to a cigarette. It wasn't like the swordsman couldn't handle it, anyways.

Zoro's katanas hadn't been very effective though, the man ultimately having to abandon them and dive into the water after the giant. He finally managed to get it into a choke hold and tire it out enough to be dragged on deck, whenceforth it was sliced by Sanji into pieces that more closely resembled food. It had been good exercise, but Zoro still wasn't keen on doing it again too soon.

The green haired man slowly came back out of his thoughts, remembering that Sanji was still behind him watching. But his headache had long been forgotten. What he needed now was some sleep.

He slid Wadou Ichimonji back into its sheath, taking a moment to wipe the back of his arm across his forehead. Zoro wasn't sure exactly when he had become so sweaty...he was about to walk away, but could sense some kind of unsettling feeling behind him. The man turned around slowly, his eyes meeting Sanji's.

"Well?" he said suddenly, staring through the haze of smoke at his crew mate. The blonde's only response was to raise one of his curled eyebrows. Zoro frowned impatiently. "What is it? Why do you want my attention so badly?"

The blonde's expression changed imperceptibly, suddenly seeming upset. Zoro took a step closer, his heavy boots thunking on the wooden deck. After a moment more of silence, the swordsman crossed his arms.

"You've got my attention, so just say it already."

The cook's mouth opened slowly, his cigarette nearly falling out...but he closed it again quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Go to hell, marimo."

Zoro's severe expression stared at the blonde for a moment, the man then turning to stomp below deck once more.

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Ok. Don't know if I'll ever write more of this. If I do, I may move on to more dramatic, action type scenes. But I'm not sure that'll happen. But thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think.


	5. Debt

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Thanks if you reviewed the last chapter! Here's the next one.

I don't own One Piece.

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Shameless V

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A blonde head broke the water with a splash, the man sputtering and gasping for air. The strong waves threatened to drag him below, once more, but his legs were strong as well. They were kicking as hard as they could to keep him afloat in the tumultous storm. Lighting flashed, follwed closely by a clap of thunder. The wind howled around him as his arms burned with the effort of dragging yet another body to the surface. Moments later, a second head emerged. This one was drooped in unconsciousness, held up only by the other man's quickly depleting strength.

Sanji was unable to hear himself swear over the noise of the weather as he finally managed to start swimming for shore. The waves began to move in his favor after a while. He was glad for the extra push but was unhappy with nearly drowning everytime a large swell swept over him. The fact that he was dragging someone else along with him made the situation even more impossible. But, after nearly a half hour of swimming and floundering in the rough seas, the cook was able to collapse on the beach of a small island. He let his commrade's body drop onto the sand next to him. All Sanji could do was lay there, gasping for breath, for a few moments.

Finally he looked to the green haired man splayed out beside him--a sight for sore eyes, really. It was the swordsman's fault that they were even in this mess. He grunted in anger, but stopped short when he realized that there was something off about Zoro. He couldn't put his finger on it. Perhaps it was that the man wasn't breathing.

Sanji's eyes popped wide open, sitting straight up and staring down at the man in panic. The green haired man was completely still, his eyes closed and jaw hanging slack. A stab of pain hit him in the chest as he realized what he had to do...he tilted the man's head back with shaking hands, hesitantly putting his lips onto Zoro's. He chanted to himself over and over, as he did this, that it was nothing. Well it wasn't nothing, but it was necessary. It was a medical thing! Chopper had taught the whole crew how to do it. _'_Just in case,' the little reindeer always told them. After all, what was more pathetic than a pirate who had died by drowning?

He repeatedly breathed air into Zoro's lungs, becoming more and more frustrated with himself for enjoying the feeling of their lips pressed together. The blonde was even more agitated by the fact that it didn't seem to be working.

"Breathe, you son of a bitch!" he cried, pounding his fist onto Zoro's muscular chest. It was covered in beads of water, his open shirt in a wet tangle beneath his still form. Sanji was nearly hyperventalating, giving another frustrated pound on the other man's diaphragm. There was a slight spasm in the swordsman's chest, the blonde's heartbeat pounding in his own chest at this glimmer of hope. Desperation struck him, the cook quickly forcing another deep breath through the unconscious man's lips. He was shocked by the immeadiate response, hastily pulling his mouth away. Zoro's body gave a jolt of movement, the man begining to choke and cough.

Sanji sat back on his heels, releasing the breath he had been holding. He watched with a blank expression as his crewmate rolled over to his side, great amounts of sea water emerging from his lungs. Sanji listened to the man's ragged breathing for a while longer, distracted by the waves of the beach lapping up behind him.

"You alive, marimo?" he asked after a moment, the howling wind making it a challenge to communicate. Zoro's shoulders were still shaking a bit as he looked back at the blonde. Dark circles were under his eyes from the lack of oxygen, his face seeming pale.

The swordsman croaked out an answer that was lost to the blonde in the raging storm before struggling to his feet. His black boots were sinking in the wet sand as he stagged a few steps up the beach. Sanji also dragged himself up, following after. The blonde's eyes scanned the terrain, seeing mostly trees and plants beyond them. There was a sharp rock face on the west side of the beach, however, and Sanji turned in that direction.

"This way!" He nearly had to scream at the swordsman over the booming thunder. The green haired man seemed a bit dazed, still, but altered course to go with the blonde. The trek was longer than Sanji had anticipated, the blonde eventually needing to help Zoro walk. He pulled the swordsman's arm over his shoulder, the green haired man still coughing from nearly being drowned.

It was then that Sanji saw what he had been hoping for--a cave. The thing that they needed most right now was shelter. They had to get out of the pelting rain and instense wind before they caught pneumonia. Especially Zoro, who already had enough fluid in his lungs for one day. As they passed through the entrance, immeadiate relief greeted the two men. The wind was no longer whipping raindrops and Sanji's own soaked hair into his face, but the booming thunder still echoed through the rock cavern. He reluctantly let go of Zoro, the green haired man hitting the cave floor with a dull thud. The swordsman's harsh breaths were more audible in this sheltered area. Apparently, the blowing rain had not been helping his condition.

Sanji stood listening to his crewmate choke on some more water, staring back outside the cave at the harsh weather. All he could ask himself, over and over again, was _'how did this happen?!'_ His curled eyebrows were furrowing, the man begining to roll his soaked shirtsleeves to his elbows with a heavy sigh. Somewhere along the way, his jacket had been lost to the sea. Either that, or it was on the deck of the Going Merry. Perhaps he had ripped it off before diving into the water? It was a really nice jacket. Unfortunately the matching slacks were most likely ruined, he mused while looking down at them.

The sound of Zoro spitting out another mouthful of water broke the blonde out of his thoughts. He turned back to look, seeing the swordsman just leaning back against the cave wall from his place on the floor. He didn't seem at all upset by his near drowning, he just looked tired and cold. The first mate had already closed his eyes to the world around him, concentrating on his own deep breaths. Sanji knew that he was also quite tired and cold, reminded as a gust of wind swept past the cave entrance.

The cook walked deeper into the cave, trying to make out something useful in the darkness. A flash of lighting stuck outside, giving him a brief look at his surroundings. There were some old pieces of driftwood back further--it was probably the only dry substance they would be able to find on the soaked island. It would have to do for a fire. He began reaching for it blindly, slowly gathering enough of an armful to actually produce some heat. He stared back to the light of the cave opening, knowing that making the fire too close to the wind and rain would be a mistake. He instead picked a spot a little further back than where he had left Zoro, piling the wood together as best he could and then digging in his pocket for his lighter.

"Hey, come here," his voice echoed as he tossed a soaked half-pack of cigarettes to the floor with a wet slap. He could hear the swordsman getting to his feet with a grunt, but was still focused on getting the lighter out of the pocket of his twisted and soaked slacks. It finally emerged, no doubt a little waterlogged as well. He set it down next to the cigarettes, deciding to give it a little while to dry before he tried to use it.

Zoro eased his body down onto the ground across the woodpile from where Sanji sat, apparently still not very eager to talk. The swordsman seemed preoccupied.

"What?" Sanji questioned in the darkness, a flash of lightning allowing him a quick look at Zoro's severe expression. The accompanying thunder was a few seconds late, the other man allowing it to boom deafeningly before responding quietly.

"Light the fire, already." Sanji frowned, leaving a moment's pause before he complied. By some miracle his lighter was still working, the flames it produced eagerly consuming the smaller bits of kindling. It took a while for the emanating heat to reach them, both men remaining silent as they stared at the dancing flames. It was a miracle that they weren't arguing, Sanji mused to himself as he finally allowed his tense muscle to relax. He also leaned back on the wall of the narrow cave, finally feeling the weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him. Now that his panic had worn away, he was far more conscious of the fact that he was stuck in a cave. Stuck in a cave with Zoro. Just the two of them.

A shiver went down his spine, the man reaching for his cigarettes instinctively. One touch told him they were still unlightable, completely soaked through. He closed his eyes in defeat and leaned back once more. It was quiet for a while, but a rustling noise drew the blonde's attention. He looked up to see Zoro removing his wet shirt and spreading it over a nearby rock to dry. Wearing wet clothes wouldn't do either of them any favors, at moment. Sanji followed suit, unbuttoning his black vest and tossing it onto another rock with yet another heavy sigh. He couldn't bear to look over and catch a glimpse of Zoro's muscled chest, gleaming with water droplets in the flickering firelight.

But the swordsman wouldn't have noticed, his eyes already closed and his body leaned back against the rocky cave wall. Sanji waited until he thought the other man had dozed off before he looked over. When he had been giving the swordsman mouth to mouth, he hadn't really had enough time to fully experience the fear that came with the situation. But now, looking at that same still expression on his crewmate, he was struck by it once more. Zoro had said nothing about the ordeal the two of them had just been through, of course Zoro had likely been unconscious for a good part of it. The memory of diving down into the freezing sea was fresh in Sanji's mind, however, recalling how his body was tossed around like a toy by the mighty waves before he was able to grab a hold of the swordsman's limp body. Sanji wasn't sure how long Zoro had gone without air--it couldn't have been long if the cook was able to revive him with such limited medical knowledge.

Even thinking back on the whole thing, Sanji still wasn't sure exactly what had happened. It was all so jumbled in his mind. One minute they had been sailing away from port, the next a storm was brewing. The problems had begun to pile up, then, as the boat rocked and threw Nami (who had been steering the ship) into the Merry's wooden railing. Chopper had been bandaging her arm when the storm really picked up. The dangerous conditions had all of the crew's devil fruit users below deck, leaving Usopp, Zoro, and Sanji to sail the ship. Luffy, especially, had not been keen on being stuck in the cabin. But everyone knew that a devil fruit user would drown quickly in the raging storm, definitely before one of the crew who was able to swim could save them from the water. The non-devil fruit users were definitely at an advantge in such weather. Luffy protested that he wasn't scared, as of course none of the other crew were, but Nami insisted that putting them in danger for no reason was just stupid. If something went wrong, however, they could certainly go up and help the others on deck.

And then Usopp had been at the rudder, shouting instructions to Sanji and Zoro who were working the sails. But things became even worse as an angry sea king rammed the caravel, practicially rolling the boat over. What happened next, however, was unknown to the blonde. It was almost an instant. Wrestling the seak king, being tossed around in the water. Usopp held the Merry as steady as he could. The others ran out on deck, Luffy falling overboard. Zoro had immeadiately leapt in after him, sucessfully handing the captain off of the waiting arms of the rest of the crew...but the sea king had chomped down on the swordsmans leg, dragging him under. He was at a disadvantage--he had left his swords on deck when he jumped in for Luffy.

The man was still without his swords, his haramaki looking strange and empty without them. Sanji let his eyes examine the man further, noticing for the first time that he had a mean set of teeth marks on one of his calves. No wonder he had trouble walking, earlier. The cook felt his heart sink slightly, knowing that he wasn't in the best shape either. His clothes had dried little since they had found shelter, though the fire was helping greatly. He stared at Zoro in the dim light of the cave, unable to forget the feeling of the man's lips against his own. It almost panicked the blonde that he'd done such a thing, but he knew there was no way Zoro could have known. The swordsman was unconscious. He hadn't been breathing. Besides, Zoro would have done the same thing for Sanji, right? What kind of pirate wouldn't even try to save their crewmate's life?

Sanji put his head in his hands tiredly. He was startled as Zoro began to choke in his sleep--the green haired man's eyes shot open, immeadiately falling to his knees to cough up another mouthfull of seawater.

"Shit," he croaked, his breath catching in his throat once more. He continued to cough but no more water came up. The blonde guessed that the man's lungs and throat were pretty irritated, at this point.

"How much water you keeping in there?" he inquired sarcastically, his voice low. Zoro turned his head slightly to scowl at the cook before sliding back down onto the cave floor. This time he laid on his side, facing the fire. This was no doubt to prevent himself from choking in his sleep, just in case he began to cough again. He wrapped a tan arm around his midsection, probably feeling poor around his diaphragm. Sanji guessed that punching him several times had not helped too much either. Luckily, that was another thing that Zoro probably didn't remember.

"I hope they can find us..." the blonde said quietly, knowing that this was probably a moot point. The log pose was bound to steer the Merry to this island eventually. He was sure they had never been here, before, so maybe the ship was already on it's way towards them?

Zoro had nothing to add, propping his head on his hand and staring into the fire once more. It was ten or fifteen minutes before the swordsman's tired voice finally sounded in the cave.

"...You jumped in after me?"

Sanji turned to stare at him blankly, unsure what he was being asked.

"Well, we're both on this shitty island, soaking wet and sitting in a cave..." he trailed off, reaching for his cigarettes once more. He pulled one out and held it over the fire to dry it the rest of the way.

Zoro just snorted, turning his angry eyes away. It was this that set off the cook's temper.

"Would you rather I let you drown?!" Sanji nearly yelled, muscles tense.

"I don't need your help, you shitty cook," Zoro growled, sitting up so that he could lock angry gazes with the blonde.

"Does it make you that upset that I saved you?!" he cried, angrily throwing the cigarette to the cave floor.

Zoro simply rolled over to face the cave wall. His rippled back still had water droplets on it that shifted with his breath. Sanji was briefly distracted by this, but still depressed by getting the cold shoulder.

"Do you think that any of the others wouldn't have done the same?" he questioned into the silence of the cave. There was no response from Zoro whatsoever. "...And wouldn't you have done the same for me?"

It was a few tense minutes before Zoro slowly turned back, sitting up and ruffling the wetness from his short green hair. His eyes ran along the ground and his expression was pensive.

"You're right," he agreed solemnly. "I owe you, cook."

Sanji smiled slightly in triumph, reclining against the wall once more.

"You owe me more than one," he laughed, feeling a spread of warmth in his chest. Were the two of them actually getting along, for once? Usually the only time they could cooperate was in battle. And even then, it was pretty tough. Zoro raised an eyebrow at this, however. He was clearly not feeling the warm fuzzies.

"I'm going to sleep," he informed the man as he laid back down on his side. Sanji nodded, raising the mostly dry cigarette to his lips. He watched as the other man closed his eyes. It was not five minutes before the swordsman was asleep. The blonde just watched, thankful for each breath the passed Zoro's lips.

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That's it for this chapter. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.


	6. Burden

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Finally! The new chapter is here!

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless VI

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The fire was crackling quietly in the dark cave, the swordsman's half lidded eyes watching the sparks float up in the air. The wind no longer howled past the mouth of the shelter and the heavy rain had died down to a steady drizzle. His breaths were shallow, though the sea water had long since been gone from his lungs. The irritation that the salty substance had caused him was still very present. He couldn't allow himself to break the silence with coughing, lest he wake the blond cook snoozing on the other side of the fire. And the green haired man was definitely not interested in having any more heart-to-hearts with that miserable bastard.

He eased himself up onto his elbow, then gingerly sitting up. He turned to the mouth of the cave to stare out at the unpleasant weather. A quick flash of lightning went through the sky, then a distant thunderclap. The storm had almost moved past. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been two hours before, when they had first staggered into this cave. A stray gust of wind tickled the cave, making him shiver. The swordsman returned his attention to the small fire, carefully adding a few more piece of driftwood to keep it going. The heat it provided had already dried his thin shirt, he noted, while looking down at it. He slipped it over his shoulders once more, having to hold back his sigh.

The green haired man's eyes drifted back to the man across from him. He wasn't sure when Sanji had fallen asleep. Presumably, it had been after the swordsman. But Zoro had woken up soon after to a tickle in his throat and hadn't been back to sleep since. Being awake meant that the man was forced to confront reality. Forced to watch that spiral eyebrow bastard breathing in and out in a deep slumber, brought on by the exhaustion of saving Zoro's life.

He grit his teeth at this thought, putting a hand to his head. It was playing over and over in his mind...

The was wind beating rain into his eyes as he secured the Merry's sails, Usopp's directions lost to him over the noise of the raging storm. The caravel had been lurching with the waves, he thought, but it turned out that another percentage of the lurching could be attributed to an angry and confused sea king. He could hear his own voice screaming at Sanji to finish with the sails, then turning towards the sea king. He seized the creature on it's next pass, trying to wrestle it into submission. The commotion had brought the injured Nami running up to the deck. Luffy was right behind her, naturally, and could not be stopped from dashing out to help. The rubber captain was helping his first mate beat down the sea king, but a quick whip of the giant fish's tail sent him overboard in an instant.

Zoro dove in immediately, trying to get to the captain before the rough seas swallowed him entirely. He managed to snag the boy around the waist, swimming as hard as he could to the surface. It was almost more dangerous above the water, the swordsman having difficulty keeping them afloat as Usopp tried to swing the boat closer. It was Nico Robin's chain of arms that ultimately brought them back to the side of the vessel. Chopper and Nami were there, reaching out for the captain. They hurriedly dragged him onto the safety of the Going Merry's deck, while one of Robin's arms tightly grabbed Zoro's wrist.

It was so sudden, the intense pain in his leg. His sight went black from the unexpected burst of agony, his arm going limp in Robin's grasp. Something was crushing his shin, trying to drag him below the surface of the dark sea. But his crew-mates reached out for him, practically pulling his arms out of their sockets. But the grip on his leg was too strong. And, with Sanji wrestling the sails and Luffy temporarily stunned by his dunk in the ocean, the others were not strong enough to pull him aboard. That was when the wave swept over his head, finally sucking him below the water's surface. The pressure on his leg did not let up, the mighty sea king taking over where the sea left off to pull him deeper and deeper into the inky depths.

When the huge fish finally let go, his leg had been completely numb. His eyes shot wide open when he realized that he couldn't swim. His injured leg wasn't strong enough to fight the mighty sea. The huge sea king rammed him, sending a stream of air bubbles from his mouth. That was all the air the swordsman had time to breath in before the sea pulled him under, and now it was no longer inside his lungs. There was nothing he could do. He tried vainly to move his leg, but the lack of air and strong surge of pain were making him dangerously faint. His lungs were burning so badly...he needed oxygen. The green haired man had been outside of his body, those few moments seeming like an eternity. He had never felt so helpless, not since Kuina died...but that was when the hand seized his wrist. Someone was dragging him to the surface. But that person was not swimming fast enough for Zoro's lungs. The blackness of unconsciousness took him over.

He retruned to reality with a start as the fire crackled loudly in the quiet cave. The man gingerly laid his palm over the teeth marks on his shin--they still ached. He inspected the wound carefully, unsure if his leg was broken or not. It had to at least be fractured, since he could barely put weight on it without seeing stars. Unfortunately neither he nor Sanji was a doctor...this thought troubled him once more, making the swordsman return to his memories.

The green haired man knew, instinctively, that there had been a period when his breathing had entirely stopped. He knew that he passed out from the lack of air. There was nothing in between that memory and the next one, which was suddenly waking on the beach of this shitty little island. It couldn't have been very long, the swordsman mused, because he obviously hadn't died. Perhaps his breathing had resumed at the water's surface? During the journey to shore, he had been lost to the world. There would've been plenty of opportunity for the unconscious swordsman to inhale water.

But the strongest memory of that frightening moment on the beach was the person hanging over him. Sanji had been breathing air into his lungs. There had been several moments, before he became entirely conscious, when he had felt the blonde's lips pressed against his own. It had been that breath of air, forced into his lungs, that miraculously jarred all the water he had swallowed. It felt like it was tearing up his insides, remembering how his body had jerked and spasmed. All he could do was roll to his side to avoid choking on it once more. The water flooded from his mouth, his lungs contracting with the effort of expelling it. He could hardly breath the air fast enough when it was finally over, his body shaking slightly from the ordeal. He had been so disoriented at that time that he wasn't able to think about it. He didn't realize what had happened. But now, looking back, it was all so clear.

The swordsman felt confused as he remembered these feelings, able to relive them very clearly in his mind. He turned his gaze to look at the sleeping cook, his eyes focusing in on the blonde's parted lips. It was those lips that had pressed against his own. Those lips that had insulted and abused him shamelessly. Those lips had saved his life.

He put his head in his hands, leaning back against the cave wall. When speaking with the cook earlier, these thoughts had dominated him. The swordsman was so confused. He wanted to hate the blonde for what he had done. But, as the blonde himself had pointed out, Zoro had no reason to be angry. What kind of pirate wouldn't save their crewmate's life? What sort of pirate wouldn't risk everything, what sort of pirate wouldn't go all out?

But these thoughts continued to trouble the man, keeping him from his favorite pastime--sleeping. He couldn't help but wonder if Sanji had noticed his attitude. They both knew what happened, but they had not spoken of it. It was rare that the green haired man had difficulty dealing with reality, like this. It was eating away at him. But there was nothing to do, no denying. Sanji had dove into the ocean after him and then dragged his unconscious body all the way to this island. Their lips had met. And Sanji had breathed life into him, once more. It was a heavy debt for the swordsman to bear. Never before had the man felt so close to his own death. They always had each other's back in a battle, but what the cook had done stood apart.

The swordsman finally lifted his face from his calloused palms, shifting his weight so that his injured leg was more comfortable. He felt phantom lips on his own, making the man turn his head away in denial...but faint voices could be heard outside the cave. Zoro put a hand on the cave wall, struggling to his feet. He limped towards the mouth of the cave, emerging into the dim light. A light drizzle touched his skin, the man gazing across the beach to see the Merry off-shore and a rowboat tied up on the beach.

"Zoro!" He turned his head, eyes greeted by an enthusiastic Luffy dashing towards him. "Hey, ZORO!"

Tony Tony Chopper and Nico Robin were following after the captain. The reindeer looked almost as excited as Luffy did, his hooves sinking into the wet sand as he hurried over. Robin was calm as always, making her way slowly in her heeled shoes. Zoro still leaned a hand on the rocks behind him, his leg in too much pain to bear his weight.

"Zoro! I knew you woudn't drown," Luffy laughed happily as he greeted his first mate. "You're too tough."

"I'm so glad you're OK!" Chopper's eyes were wobbling happily, hooves clasped together in excitement.

The little doctor insisted on looking at Zoro's leg before he took another step, confirming that it was fractured. He did a quick bandage job and warned the swordsman not to try and walk on it.

Sanji had woken up and emerged at some point, but had remained mostly silent.

"Well, let's get off this shitty island already," the cook finally murmured, running a hand through his hair. Luffy ran ahead to their rowboat, leaving Sanji to help Zoro. The green haired man did not complain as Sanji pulled his arm over his shoulder, the cook reluctant to make eye contact. They were moving slowly across the sinking sand, the others getting ahead slightly.

The blonde's breaths were tickling his ear, their cold and exhausted bodies closer than either of the men was truly comfortable with. Zoro was still preoccupied by old sensations, remaining quiet. The swordsman knew, as he was sure Sanji did, that their ordeal would not be discussed. He was unsure how it affected Sanji, but was certain how it had affected him. He was sure that his mood was evident to the cook, who did not speak to him on the trip back to the Merry.

And he was greatful for this silence.

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Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think.


	7. Stuck Pig

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I'm sorry this took so long, I just couldn't get inspired for this one. I wanted to make sure I gave a lot of thought to the last set of chapters. So, happy holidays! My present to everyone is the next part of the story!

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless VII

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"...You _idiot_!"

Sanji screamed the word with such disgust that his body was shuddering from the effort, simultaneously throwing his arms out in an unconscious gesture. He stomped one of his black boots deeper into the calf-deep sludge of a mud puddle he was standing in, no longer caring that yet another pair of his best slacks were ruined. They were already coated thickly with the sticky brown substance as far as his knees and splattered from there on up.

"Me?" the other man sneered in disgust, swinging Yubashiri with enough force that the air broke with a hiss. There was silence in the barren, rocky landscape as the two pirates stared dangerously at each other for a moment or two. Sanji closed the few feet between them with another step, his boots popping out of the mud with a sickly noise of suction as he moved.

"Look," the blonde began again, his voice quieter but no less harsh. "Let's just get the fuck off this island, already."

"Fine by me," the swordsman responded, grunting.

The cook had to hold back all of the obscenities that he would've dearly loved to scream at that moment, instead running a shaking hand through his hair as he stared around at the bleak scenery. The only water in sight was that which was mixed into the mud at his feet, dashing his hopes of cleaning this crap off. The foul and glue-like pit the two men had stumbled into was sunken only inches below the hard, rocky ground level of the deserted island. The blonde was loathe to take another step through the muck, for fear he might suddenly be sucked under. It was a warranted fear, the pirate knowing that the slime could easily contain deeper areas.

Though the island around him appeared as flat as a pancake, Sanji knew that it must be some kind of optical illusion. Where the uneven, rocky ground met the gray sky he was unable to spy the Going Merry. The ocean was not visible, nor the thick forest they had passed through in order to reach this barren place. Not even a tuft of weeds graced the harsh rocks that sloped around the mud pit. The man wiped a hand down his face with a sigh, then cupping his hands around his mouth to light a cigarette.

He took a few puffs before glancing over to Zoro. The ape had finally put his swords away and was now staring around in the same hopeless fashion as Sanji. The mud they were standing in was like industrial adhesive and the strange creature that had chased them into it had gotten them into the dead center of the shallow, gluey lake. That meant there was about fifteen feet of that junk on each side of them to wade through before they would reach dry land. Just picking his boots up out of the mess had been a trial for Sanji, the blonde noting that Zoro had not yet managed a step. The cook was certain that his legs were much stronger than Zoro's while the swordsman, of course, had a noted advantage in arm muscle. In addition, Zoro's fractured leg had only recently healed. It was likely to be weaker than normal, anyhow. Perhaps he would do better in this situation if he switched to a handstand? The blonde snorted slightly with laughter at this thought.

"It's starting to harden." Sanji returned to reality at his crew mate's observation, looking down to his shoes with a curse. The oaf was right, the mud was beginning to solidify. He tried to wrench one of his feet free, clenching his cigarette in his teeth as he grabbed his calf with both hands and yanked.

He heard a loud, squelching pop as one of the swordsman's boots emergered from its muddy prison.

"Damnit...!" the green haired man swore, tilting back and forth as he stood on one foot. Sanji's own shoe popped out next, the blonde so distracted by watching Zoro that he fell backwards into the slime with a wet slap. The seat of his pants was sinking ever so slowly down into the cold, wet slop, such that he was unsure if he'd be able to wrench it free. Now his butt was stuck in the mud, too.

"Fuck!" Sanji cried, pounding an angry fist into the glop as tobacco smoke snaked from his flared nostrils.

Zoro, meanwhile, had managed to move a step in Sanji's direction and was now attempting to pull his foot out for another.

"Get away from me, you damned bastard!" Sanji screamed at him from his place in the mud, getting slimy fingerprints on his cigarette as he held it away from his mouth. Zoro frowned at him, continuing to ease his foot out of the sickly gunk.

"That bank is the closest," the man muttered annoyedly. His brow was furrowed with the effort of lifting his boot from the suction of the thick liquid, the blonde watching a bead of sweat trickle down his tanned face as he managed to move his foot forwards once more. He stopped suddenly after this accomplishment, taking a deep breath of air.

"Get up before you're trapped down there," he barked at the cook, breaking the blonde from his daze. He felt anger flare inside of himself at these words, fist clenching around a wad of mud.

"Don't tell me what to do, marimo!" He hurled a clod of the black gunk, the swordsman tilting his head to the side to dodge. Sanji clenched his teeth, seething in rage. "...Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

Zoro raised an eyebrow, not bothering to vocalize his response. The cook yelled at him so often that he was becoming desensitized to it. He no longer grew angry or provoked, only serving to further enrage the blonde. Sanji felt himself moving in that direction quickly, in fact. The stress of being face to face with the swordsman was creating inside of him an amount of anxiety that he had never previously experienced. It was difficult for him to speak to the green haired man...

His eyes stared out blankly as he listened to the swordsman attempt another step in his direction, feeling quietly ashamed of himself. How could he have been such an idiot, the cook wondered. How could he have ever thought that anything would be different between the two of them? Yes, he had saved Zoro's life back on that island, several weeks ago... Yes, their lips had met briefly. And in that cave they had as civil a discussion as they would ever be able to have. They had come as close to admitting their friendship as they ever would. And now it was back to reality. Their relationship was, in essence, unchanged. But why had Sanji believed otherwise?

The blonde returned his cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke deeply. He rested his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the swordsman a foot away from him. The man was so focused on freeing his heavy black boots from their muddy prison that he paid Sanji no mind. The cook let his eyes linger on the first mate's expression of consternation, blowing a slow trail of smoke from his mouth.

A hand reached down to him, startling the blonde.

"I'd leave you here, but Luffy would probably make us come back anyways," the swordsman snorted. Sanji stared at this offer of assistance, hesitantly putting his muddy hand into Zoro's. Sure enough, the swordsman yanked him up with only one arm, acting as though it were child's play.

His legs, however, were unable to do as well as his arms, the swordsman already looking winded from his handful of steps. Sanji frowned as he forced himself forwards another pace. The crap they were standing in was hardening quickly. They didn't have enough time to stop for a breather, right now. They would have to make a non-stop trek towards the bank as fast as they could.

"We don't have time to stand around," he barked around his cigarette, yanking his foot from the gunk with a vengeance. Sanji was gritting his teeth as he pushed forwards, slowly but surely. The pattern of sounds from each step became familiar to him quickly. First the strange, suction noise as he wrenched his boot free and then a pop as it emerged from the mud. Then a squelching as he sunk it back into the mud to move forwards.

Time passed like this for some minutes, the cook unsure how long--it felt like an eternity, the blonde completely focused on walking. He glanced back to the swordsman, seeing that Zoro was a step behind him. The green haired man took longer and longer with each step and there were still nearly ten feet from the bank. Sanji felt himself tiring quickly as well. The mud was hardening so fast that standing still was making him extremely anxious. With each step, he felt a tinge of fear that it would be the last he was able to take. That it was this time around that he would not be able to free his foot again. That he was truly stuck out here.

He sighed, blowing out a long trail of smoke as he did so. The blonde was unsure whether or not he could make it. His legs were tough enough to fight through the current viscosity of the mud, but it was becoming thicker and thicker with each passing second. Sanji grunted, starting to walk forward again. If he could push forward, as fast as he could...the blonde could get close enough to the shore to crawl out. His thoughts flitted back to the swordsman trailing him. He could hear the green haired man's fatigued breathing at his back. Sanji doubted that the other man would be able to keep up. Zoro had an inhuman amount of stamina, but he simply could not go any faster through the gluey mud puddle. And that stamina would mean nothing if he could no longer move.

"Cook," the green haired man finally rasped. The blonde paused in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see Zoro hunched over with his hands on his knees. "Just get out of here. Maybe the others know how to defeat this crap..."

Sanji's eyebrows furrowed. Zoro wasn't totally stupid, then. He could tell that the blonde was slowing down for his sake. It was unlike the green haired man to give up, like this. It was completely unlike him, in fact.

"There's no time for your whining, bastard," Sanji barked, briskly turning attention back to lifting his foot.

"At least one of us can make it out."

The blonde froze at these words, unable to meet the other man's eyes. His heart was thudding against his ribcage, the sound pounding in his ears. He pinched his cigarette butt distractedly to stub it out, not wanting to chance that what they were standing in was (by some stretch of the imagination) in any way flammable.

"...What the hell's the matter with you?" the blonde finally asked, his voice quiet as he stared ahead of himself towards dry land. He could feel their window of opportunity closing, the mud stiffening around his ankles. "...Don't say that sort of sacrificial garbage to me, you shit swordsman."

Zoro was grunting, hoisting himself up off his knees. Sanji could feel the other man's heavy breathing tickling the back of his neck as the swordsman made it back to full height.

"I said go," Zoro growled. Sanji noticed the man favoring one leg out of the corner of his eye. It was the one that had been fractured in the sea king debacle. Perhaps it hadn't fully healed after all? Even if the bone had knit back together, the swordsman's leg muscle was surely weakened from inactivity. The disadvantage he was at slowly dawned on the blonde, feeling a pain in his chest. It only made him more opposed to abandoning his crew mate.

"And I said hurry the fuck up!" he screamed, twisting his neck to stare into the other man's eyes. The shared an intense stare, both panting with exhaustion from the effort of moving thought the hardening glue. Zoro's expression hardened imperceptibly.

"So that's how it is?" his low voice growled, the man cracking his knuckles ominously.

Sanji let out a confused cry as the other man seized the collar of his pink, pinstriped shirt in his fist.

"What the hell--?" he managed, trying to look back at the swordsman behind him. He felt the man's other hand clench tightly around the back of his leather belt, feeling his face flush red at this contact. Zoro let out a loud grunt, using his super-human strength to wrench Sanji free of the mud and hoist the blonde up over his head.

Sanji was yelling every cuss word he could think of as he was suspended there over his crewmate's head, his muddy boots kicking at the air uselessly and his arms flailing.

"Hold on tight, cook," Zoro was growling, his arms hefting Sanji's body once more to get a better grip. The blonde felt himself sink slightly as the swordsman crouched down, his fists tightening their grip on Sanji's clothing. Then suddenly the green haired man gave a powerful thrust, hurling Sanji as far as he could.

The blonde barely knew what was happening as the other man let go, his body sailing in a high arch over the mud pit. His appendages were flailing in a panic as he began falling down from the apex of the arch, seeing the edge of the mud pass underneath him as the ground rapidly approached. He landed with a heavy thump on the rocky terrain, curling into a ball upon impact to soften the blow. He rolled several more feet before finally coming to a stop.

The blonde collapsed on his back, arms and legs spread out around him as he gasped for breath. The excitement and panic of being thrown ten feet in the air had not yet left him. His whole body was shaking, still. It took him a moment to sit up and appreciate the fact that he was on terra firma once more, feeling relief sweep over him like a tsunami.

He exhaled deeply, then hit by a sudden surge of panic. The cook's eyes shot up, staring out to the center of the mud pit. And there, standing out harshly against the flat terrain was the figure of Roronoa Zoro, still stranded about ten feet out. Sanji scrambled to his feet, hurrying to the edge of the dry bank with fists clenched anxiously.

"...You idiot!" he yelled out at the swordsman, watching as Zoro fell down to one knee in the thick sludge. Zoro uttered a quiet response that Sanji could not make out at his distance, the blonde staring intently at his crew mate.

"Get up!" Sanji screamed, seeing that the other man's knee had already sunk several inches into the thick slime. How would the green haired man ever escape if he didn't have the strength to wrench his knee free? It dawned on the cook that Zoro was sinking...sinking more than the familiar few inches that they had both been sinking a few minutes ago. The green haired man had stumbled into a sinkhole in the mud pit and it was just large enough that it was ever so slowly swallowing one of his legs, sucking him down into the darkness of the inescapable mud.

The cook stared out at his friend with wide eyes for a moment longer. Zoro made no move, his head bowed in fatigue. The cook was suddenly overcome with panic, confused as to what he was feeling. It nearly broke the blonde's heart to see the other man trapped out there. Zoro had used the last of his strength to free Sanji...

"Why, you bastard?!" he was screaming, at the same time knowing exactly why. There had been no way for the green haired man to take another step. And if Sanji was unwilling to leave, they would've both been trapped. The swordsman had taken matters into his own hands, literally and figuratively.

But there was only silence as a response from the green haired man.

"Answer me!" he cried again, flinging his arm out in anxiety.

There was a pause as Zoro lifted his eyes to the cook.

"My legs are useless," he called, almost as though it were confession. "...I had to do what I could while my arms still work."

The blonde was struck with panic, turning a useless circle as he tried to figure out where they had come from. Which direction was the forest? Where had the beast chased them? Which way to the Going Merry? Everything looked the same around him...

"Shit," he cursed quietly, clenching his eyes closed. He steeled his nerves, beginning to stride up a nearby slope. He just had to get his bearings, then everything would be fine...he could get help from the others... He stopped suddenly, staring out to his stranded crew mate once more.

"I'll be back, you shit swordsman!" he yelled out to the man. "...I'll be back."

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I'm sorry everyone! I hate cliffhangers, too, but I need to leave the conclusion for Zoro's chapter. Please let me know what you think! And thanks for reading!


	8. Use Somebody

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Well, I hope you all haven't been too worried about the cliffhanger...I'm not sure if this is the last chapter or not. I guess we'll have to see what Sanji and Zoro get up to in this part.

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless VIII

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The swordsman felt a light breeze tickle his face as he watched Sanji's blonde head and pink shirt disappear over a rocky ridge in the distance. Complete silence fell as he kneeled there, feeling the pressure increasing on his leg as it was pulled further and further into the mysterious, mud-like substance surrounding him. The swordsman tried to move this appendage, but to no avail. It was all up to that shit cook, now.

He turned his eyes downwards, taking stock of his situation. The sinkhole he had stumbled into seemed as though it had been conveniently created to be exactly the diameter of his thigh. The suction it exerted on his leg was so strong that it seemed as though it were slowly re-fracturing his shin...which, the man realized, must have been another fantastic coincidence: it was his weaker leg which befell this hopeless situation. Sadly enough, even with his stronger leg to use for leverage, he still could not wrench himself free.

Zoro's knee was quickly vanishing into the dark brown gunk, the man bracing his hands on his other leg to try and keep anymore of it from disappearing. The green haired man did his best to cancel out the force of the suction, pulling back just enough to hold position. This, of course, was making his other leg dig into the gunk even further. The swordsman knew that he was as good as trapped there, the sticky glop holding fast.

He let out a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing. The former bounty hunter did not usually allow himself to despair, like this, but he had strong doubt about Sanji's ability to get him out of this situation. The blonde man had many talents, surely. He was not only a pirate but a chef, had an extremely mean kick, and could apparently preform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation fairly well. But these facts could not stand up to the reality staring him in the face.

And Zoro was of course not the type to stand by and do nothing when trapped or cornered, but he was simply devoid of ideas. It was all he could do to just keep himself from disappearing any further into the murky pit. Sure, he could chop his leg off...but there would be no way for him to fight his way back to solid ground with only one leg to stand on. Maybe he could force his leg out...but his bone would most likely snap from the pressure and he would be back at the one-legged dilemma...

If he was, by some miracle, able to free his leg he could perhaps do a handstand? The man frowned subconsciously at this thought, unsure if he could walk that far on his hands without falling over. If he were to try that and somehow fall flat onto the adhesive goop...then he would still be trapped and in perhaps a worse position. The green haired man did not fancy getting his face stuck in this garbage so that he would be unable to breathe...he nearly laughed out loud at the thought of Sanji returning to find his corpse face-down in the mud. It seemed hysterically funny to the swordsman, in a morbid sort of way. The really funny part would be the fact that Sanji would have been so put-out and worried for nothing...

The wind whipped by him suddenly, startling him from his thoughts. The green haired man's tired stare gazed up at the grey sky, watching the sun sink slowly by the horizon. It was getting to be late in the afternoon. They were both sinking, him and the sun. It was growing harder and harder to hold his knee above the thick slop, the man confused as to whether or not the suction was increasing. How long had it been since he had watched Sanji disappear over the ridge? Maybe Zoro was becoming exhausted? That was impossible...the swordsman definitely did not tire easily. The only thing that tired him out was listening to Sanji's voice...

He felt a slight pain in his chest as he thought back to that dark little cave, days earlier...the rain and wind whipping by, chilling his shaking form. The burning and stinging of his lungs with every breath of air. The thought of of Sanji's lips touching his, giving him a kiss that had saved his life. It had taken time for the swordsman to move past this milestone, trying to accept it as reality and stop questioning...questioning whether or not he should have died that day.

Against all probability, Sanji dove into the raging sea after him. That damn, shit-headed cook that could not have a civil conversation with anyone who possessed a y-chromosome. It was almost an understatement to say that Sanji hated him. The cook spent so much of his time insulting or otherwise yelling at the swordsman that they had spent very little time getting to know each other. The swordsman always felt, somewhere inside himself, that they shared a mutual understanding of the way the world worked. But he, of course, still hated the other man and was unable to see a way that this understanding could ever manifest into a friendly relationship.

But that was all he really knew of the blonde man...he knew that they hated each other. It was the only sure thing he could ever rely on when dealing with the cook. The familiarity of being called an idiot and a marimo was what their interactions were based on, in Zoro's eyes. Even when he deviated from the behavior patterns Zoro expected of him, as Sanji had done quite frequently in the past month or so, the green haired man could always be reassured of normality when the cook spat an insult at him.

There had been something in the blonde man's expression, however...something that the first mate still could not wrap his mind around. He could clearly recall the pain of his hangover, that night, as he practiced his katas on deck. The green haired man could almost feel his hands clenched around the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji as the scene flooded back to him. The cook's face had been clouded over with smoke and darkness, perhaps comforting the man into letting his guard down...and that was when Zoro saw it. It was an almost imperceptible change in the blonde's expression yet it struck a deep chord, even with the stone-cold swordsman.

He had not bothered to care, at the time, but it had suddenly flashed back to him as he saw that same look forming on the blonde's face all over again. And, even worse, he could hear it in the cook's voice as he screamed the question "why" across the sticky, inescapable mud pit. The thought of it made his chest tighten. Zoro's frown deepened.

There was a sudden feeling of the ground giving out beneath him, making him jerk. His knee was gone a split-second later, his thigh quickly following behind it as he struggled to fight against the pull of the sinking mud. But the thick, sticky slop shifted once more, his other leg loosing footing as it also became trapped in the the powerful grip of the widening sinkhole. He quickly pulled his three katanas from his sash, managing to hold them above his head and out of the slime as it finally sucked his legs down further and further. He reeled in a quick gasp of air, preparing to hold his breath if need be, but the pull of the sinkhole slowed just as it reached the bottom of his haramaki. He sighed, feeling the heaviness of the viscous liquid crushing his lower half.

He quickly debated in his mind about how much use his trusted swords would be to him at this point, hating to realize their utter futility in this scenario. The man clasped them tightly, as though to say farewell, before throwing them as far as he could. To his relief, they made it to dry land, landing with a metallic clatter unharmed and gunk-free. If he ever did get out of this mess, he mused darkly, at least he swords would be alright. If only he could pick himself up and throw his body to safety with such ease.

Zoro was not scared. He felt no fear as the seconds ticked by into minutes and the minutes piled up endlessly. This was no way for a swordsman to die, trapped in a glorified mud-puddle. The only thing he felt was a blackness, eating away at his insides. Perhaps it was something like loneliness? He knew not how long Sanji had been gone. What he did know was that the cook was too late.

The mud was swallowing him relentlessly, the top surface hardening to the air such that he could not possibly free any submerged appendage. Zoro had nothing to grab onto, trying futilely at first to pull himself out with his arms. But, to his dismay, they simply sunk endlessly into the thick, sticky mess. He had somehow managed to force one of his hands back to the surface...but even this seemed to be a pointless struggle as the mud was up to his chin and rising steadily.

Vague thoughts passed in and out of the man's head as he sank, trying to keep his breathing even. He had to maintain maximum lung capacity for the moment when his nose would finally pass beneath the surface of the impenetrable gunk. This moment was drawing ever nearer, the green haired man clenching his jaw closed tightly as his mouth passed below the surface. His arm was still sticking out above his head, the man giving a last ditch effort at pulling himself out. It was no use. The force of the mud against his body had already made him completely numb, the crushing impact of the suction only increasing as he sank.

"Damnit!" he managed to yell out, just before he could no longer hold his head out of the slime. It all happened so quickly, the man timing his breathing carefully as his nose began to touch the muck. He managed to collect a good breath of air before the slime started creeping up his cheeks to his eyes...he could feel it begin to ooze into his ears disgustingly, the pressure of it making him extremely lightheaded.

The swordsman finally closed his eyes against it all, concentrating on holding his breath. It was dark and silent as the mud reached his forehead and his hand was still sticking out over the mud as he felt the touch of the air disappear from his head. And the man clenched that hand into a frustrated fist as it finally sank, as well.

And he was surrounded entirely by the crushing black of the thick mud, feeling it pressing on him from every side. His lungs were beginning to burn from not breathing, the green haired man's mind blank. Zoro felt as though he were already dead, uncertain if he were even now sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness.

...Yet all he could think about was what that shit cook's face would look like when he returned to find that Zoro had disappeared. But the blonde had been gone so long, maybe it had never been his intention to return at all? No, Zoro thought faintly in his dimming consciousness, Sanji had definitely meant to return. It had been that enigmatic expression he saw on the blonde's face that assured him of his crew mate's sincerity. He was unsure what emotion exactly had prompted the cook to look at him like that...but it was undeniable, urgent, and honest all at the same time.

The first mate felt his lungs giving out at last, silently coming to terms with the fact that he was about to die. His time was up. At the very least he had been able to settle his debt and get that shitty cook out of this mess...that shitty cook. The swordsman would never get the oppertunity to understand him, it seemed...he would never know what that expression was, after all...

A ringing started in his head, his tensed muscles falling limp as the darkness pressed down on him with relentless force. He lost the ability to think clearly, his brain drifting slowly toward the blackness of unconsciousness...

...Something was tapping at his mind, coaxing him to hold on. The man simply couldn't, his lungs were empty and his body was being crushed. But the pressure had a slight fault. There was something breaking through.

A hand shot down, seizing his limp wrist. The grip was tight and unwavering, the green haired man instinctively, though weakly, gripping back. The pressure of the mud around him seemed to loosen suddenly, his limp and numb body unable to sense it clearly. And the hand began to drag him out, ever so slowly pulling against the suctioning grip of the mud. First his arm emerged, another hand grabbing him by the elbow to further reel him out. The man was nearly passed out when his head finally emerged from the suffocating slop, the swordsman managing to part the thick layer of mud coating his jaw to take a huge gasp of air.

"Like _hell_ you're dying...!"

The voice rang in his head loudly as the hands dragged him the rest of the way out of the mud. He was overtaken by a strong coughing fit, spitting up a mouth-full of gunk that he did not remember imbibing. But he was quickly slung onto someone's back, his limbs still dangling uselessly. There was a great deal of shaking as his savior made a mad dash, presumably for the shore, but Zoro could not yet pry his eyelids open for the thick layer of slime covering his entire body.

He continued sputtering as he was finally dumped onto the hard ground, his body falling limp against the rocky terrain. There was a large splash of water over him, making the swordsman cough and gasp even more. All he could do was lay there like a flipped turtle, catching his breath, as more water was thrown over him. He shivered in shock, vaguely feeling the mud slide off his body. The water had dissolved it enough for him to breath through his nose and pull apart his eyelids, which he did hesitantly.

"...I said I'd be back, you moron," a quiet voice echoed around him...and he heard it. He turned his eyes away from the grey sky to glance at the cook kneeling next to him. Everything looked distorted, watery muck clouding his vision.

And there it was. Their gazes were locked, Zoro's sight clearing up enough to recognize the look in his crew mate's eyes. Sanji was staring down at him, unabashedly showing whatever emotion he had kept locked inside of himself for so long. Zoro was too perplexed to speak, disoriented to say the least. He let another cough erupt from his chest. Everything was silent as Sanji took the swordsman's calloused palm in his own, helping him sit up. Zoro's strength was slow to return, accepting the other man's help...but he faltered, so dizzy that he tilted over to the blonde's shoulder.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening as he felt the cook's arms wrapping around him in an embrace. Zoro's eyes widened, not having the strength to carry out his instinctual reaction of punching the other man in the face. But as the blonde's grip tightened desperately around his shoulders, it finally struck the green haired man. He finally understood. After all of those obtuse words and gestures, after all of the cook's oddly exaggerated behavior, all of the abnormal situations Zoro had found himself in with his blonde crew mate...it dawned on him. He knew what it was.

He was shocked, confused, and slightly angry...but he did not push the other man away.

The swordsman simply tried to accept it.

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Well this chapter was very obtuse and stream-of-consciousness, but Zoro really had a lot of time to think while he was trapped there and I hoped to let him make the most of it. Hopefully it wasn't too boring! Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	9. Poor Song

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Ok, please don't be mad at me. I got this chapter about half done when my laptop randomly broke! I couldn't get the file off because I couldn't turn it on (and still can't, by the way)...so I started over. But don't worry, this one is actually much better than the other. So I suppose we all lucked out, even though the wait has been really long...I hope you all enjoy it.

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless IX

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The Going Merry was groaning slightly as it bobbed in the waves, the restless cook shifting in his gently swinging hammock. It felt like no matter which way he rolled, tiny pins and needles were covering his skin. Even after washing the thick layer of dark, murky gunk off of his skin and changing into some clean clothes, the discomfort had not quite worn away.

He shifted so that he was on his back, staring up at the hammock above him. Perhaps he was also slightly irked to be in the bed of one of his crew mates, rather than the top hammock he usually slept in. He couldn't have climbed up to his normal hammock even if he wanted to, his legs still wobbling in a highly embarrassing fashion every time he tried to use them properly. By the time he had returned to the Going Merry, he had long since lost the feeling in his limbs and had only been able to stumble onto the deck before tripping over his own feet clumsily to the boisterous laughter of Usopp. Sanji had almost been certain that the swordsman accompanying him had been worse off, but he gave no indication that his condition was any different than the blonde's was. In fact, the green haired man had retained a steadfast silence the entire way back to the ship, joined by the harsh expression that seemed to be carved into his tanned face.

At that very moment, the swordsman's breathing was audible several feet from the cook's ear. They were laying parallel in the two bottom hammocks in the mens bunk, Zoro being lucky enough to get his own bed while Sanji was laid out in Chopper's. The little reindeer had insisted on this arrangement, saying it was too soon for Sanji to be climbing or doing anything else that required his limbs to work correctly. 'You need a whole night's sleep!' he had proclaimed, making the blonde man slap his forehead in annoyance. He was fine, honestly, aside from nearly being eaten.

Upon returning to the ship and describing the craziness that he and Zoro had faced, they were informed by the incredibly well-read Nico Robin that what they had encountered was actually a massive, carnivorous plant. The cook had been incredulous at first, but it made sense. The bloom of the plant spread itself out flat along the rocky terrain, producing a thick gluey lake of digestive juices. The disgusting liquid was sticky enough to slow prey down long enough to paralyze them. Then the plant would suck them down to digest them the rest of the way before eventually consuming them. Sanji had of course been able to fight his way through the goop well enough to avoid being sucked down, leaving Zoro as the next obvious choice. And the two of them had been standing there, arguing like morons as a huge monster plant digested them. It was all very apropos.

But a large part of the fear that Sanji had experienced at that time was not understanding the situation. His other crew mates were not there to help him as he watched Zoro sink further and further into the abyss. And he had almost never felt fear like that in his entire life. It was because he cared about Zoro, even though acknowledging it made the blonde feel a mental sting. He had been so angry, he remembered...he was barking at the swordsman, throwing clods of gunk and insulting him! The blonde shifted uncomfortably in his hammock, clenching his eyes closed tightly. His own self-frustration was fresh in his mind. What he had wanted, so badly, was for Zoro to give a shit about him. To care about him the way that he cared about that stupid marimo. And he hated himself for hoping that, because it was never ever going to happen.

But that hadn't stopped him from hoping, for a period. It was brought on by a single, desperate kiss...a kiss that Zoro would never be able to remember or acknowledge, one that Sanji had stolen while the swordsman was not breathing in order to save his life. It was just a farce, really--trying to believe that act had somehow altered their relationship, that Sanji had somehow found a way to show his feelings to Zoro. The cook saw that in his own mind he did believe this, even though he knew it wasn't real. It wasn't enough. That was when it finally exploded out of him.

The memory was still fresh in his mind, the men still just barely returned from their harrowing trek. Sanji could still feel the cold heaviness of his body as he dragged himself over the dry and barren earth of the small island. His pink, pinstriped shirt was clumsily rolled to his elbows, gunky handprints showing where he had touched it. And he stood at the top of one of the rises, turning in a slow circle as he desperately searched for some kind of sign. Where was the boat? Where was the crew? Where had he left Zoro? There was nothing. Just a single, defeated man who was helpless right when someone he cared about needed him. And then the cook had started running.

Sanji couldn't recall exactly where he had found the water, or how he had managed to make some huge leaves cradle it for transport. But he immediately returned to where Zoro was trapped, able to watch the man's hand disappear beneath the gunk in the distance as he raced forward. Without thinking he ran as fast as he could, able to stay on the surface of the gluey lake for the first few strides before he sank back down into the gunk. He dumped some water on the spot he had seen Zoro's hand to loosen the gunk, then thrusting his own arm deep below the surface. His hand had searched desperately, finally able to grab the swordsman's limp fingers. He squeezed the man's hand tightly as he pulled, the cook's surging panic beginning to subside as he felt Zoro squeeze back.

By now, the cook was practically tossing and turning in his bed, trying to fight the grip of his own recollections. Thinking of his actions and remembering how intense his feelings were made him squirm in anguish. He didn't want to think about it anymore. When he had finally dropped Zoro on dry land and hurriedly threw the rest of his small water supply over the man...there had been such a surge of feeling for him. All he could do was wrap his arms around the green haired man, to cling to him...

The cook's eyes were squeezed closed so tightly that he could not even feel the prickling of his gathering tears. What a waste of effort, he told himself silently. The blonde was subconsciously curling up into a ball, rolling over so that his back was to the swordsman. He couldn't even look at the other man. Sanji felt an acute sense of loathing as he lay there, loathing for his own feelings. He had never wanted to feel this way, had never wanted to care so deeply about a man...he had never even cared this deeply for a woman. And while he had not exactly confessed his feelings to Zoro, there really was no way for the green haired man to deny or overlook Sanji's strange behavior any longer. It was a relief to the blonde that he was no longer holding everything inside, but the price of this small relief was far more painful than the original ailment.

The chef was raw and exposed during the few moments that his embrace had lasted. Zoro had been too shocked (or perhaps just paralyzed by the plant nectar) to respond immediately. But as soon as Sanji, shocked at himself, had pulled away, the swordsman's brow furrowed more deeply than Sanji had ever seen it. The man jerked his head away, his three golden earrings jangling. But he hadn't said a word. He just stood up and walked away. Sanji just kneeled there, watching the other man's retreating back with a hollow stare. The blonde had been so deflated that he could barely climb to his feet.

'And for what?' he chided himself silently. There was no chance of a relationship. They were crewmates on a pirate ship, for fuck's sake. There were no inter-crew romances on the Grand Line. The chef was not even sure what result he had been hoping for. Had he even wanted a relationship? Was it just lust? Where had all of this nonsense even come from in the first place? If only there were some way to put it behind him now...unless he could somehow convince Zoro that it was all a big mistake, nothing would ever be the same again. And Sanji was suddenly wishing that, very much--for things to return to normal. All his high hopes of having his feelings recognized by the swordsman were forgotten, now seeming far-away and childish. The reality was that the two of them would never be able to get along in this state. They barely even got along before.

'I didn't want to be be in love...I never want to feel like this again,' the chef's mind was whispering. He sighed quietly, letting his body fall limp against the canvas hammock.

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Ok. Very introspective, I know. This was a really hard chapter to write cause there wasn't much action. Thank you for reading!


	10. Notion

Well, it is never my intention to leave anyone hanging for an unreasonable period of time, but it has unfortunately been a habit for me lately. So, with that, I'm gonna try and get this done...I hope you all enjoy reading it.

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless X

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Steel broke the air with a sharp hiss, a few nearby birds squaking as they flapped away through the empty grove. The man swung his sword a second and third time, the force increasing with each iteration. Sweat was pouring down his face, pooling around his collar-bone before dripping down his bare chest.

Zoro was grunting loudly as he slashed at the empty airspace around him, the afternoon sun shining golden into the small clearing he stood in. He had pulled his shirt off long ago, tossing it down on the soft green grass several feet away. He had been practicing there for hours, feeling no need to hurry back to the ship. Nami had assured the crew that it would take at least two days for the logpose to set at this tiny island and nobody had uttered a complaint. This was by far the most peaceful place they had been to in some time and everyone had been eager to explore the small port village where the Going Merry was docked...that is, everyone but Zoro.

The green haired man had not been especially eager to get lost in another stupid little town, instead heading straight for the lush green hills rising up next to it. From the small clearing he stood in, he could see out over the village to the ocean--that would make it way easier to find his way back to the ship, later on, and the man was well aware he needed all the help he could get in that department.

Zoro gave an involuntary huff of exhaustion, pausing in his exercises to walk over to the nearby ledge. The clearing sat on the edge of a sharp drop, the trees ending abruptly...perhaps a previous landslide had occurred there? He mulled it over silently as he leaned an arm against one of the nearby tree trunks, staring out past town to where he could make out the Merry bobbing slightly in the harbor. His tanned fist clenched around the hilt of his katana as he stared out at it. He could feel his eyebrows furrowing as Sanji's face appeared in his mind. Damn cook.

Several days had passed since Zoro had last spoken to the blonde, most of which Sanji had spent in bed with a fever. Almost immediately after they had returned to the ship covered in disgusting plant nectar, the chef had developed an illness bad enough for Chopper to confine the man to his hammock indefinitely. The blonde hadn't cooked a single thing in all that time, much to the chagrin of the crew. They had been at sea for the past three days without eating anything close to the chef's normal gourmet meals and it had left everyone (especially Luffy) in a pretty foul mood.

The swordsman hadn't particularly cared, however. Even if Sanji had been cooking, the green-haired man wouldn't have been eating it. He wasn't angry per se and was aware of this, yet he really didn't want to deal with the blonde. He didn't want to see that look on Sanji's face anymore, nor did he want to feel that he owed the blonde anything. A meal was hardly a favor, being that Sanji was the official chef of their pirate crew, but Zoro would've hated to take anything at all from the man at this point.

The former bounty hunter had stared death in the eyes multiple times in the past weeks, each and every time being pulled back by Sanji. It was starting to damage his pride, frankly...especially when the green-haired man had learned just what had been motivating the other man. Maybe Zoro would have never even gotten into those situations if not for that shit-cook aggravating him so thoroughly at every turn. And they were nakama, so of course they should be putting their necks out for each other when necessary...but that wasn't why the cook had been doing it. Sanji was looking out for Zoro because he cared about him in some deeper way, a way that brought a deep frown to the swordsman's tanned face. And if Zoro accepted and recognized these favors, it was as good as returning the cook's feelings. That was not a statement the swordsman particularly wanted to make, especially not so lightly.

Zoro shifted his weight off the tree trunk, turning away from the cliff and stepping back into the small clearing. He bent to pick up his shirt, noticing that it was no longer in the spot which he had left it. His eyes were instead trailing up the leg of a pair of perfectly creased black slacks to a pink pinstriped shirt. He felt a frown forming on his face as his brow furrowed, his gaze darting away briefly before he straightened up and looked Sanji in the eye.

The blonde looked a little sunken in the eyes, still pale from laying in bed so long. His shirt sleeves were rolled hastily to his elbows and his shirt was not tucked as neatly as usual. One hand was in the pocket of his slacks; Zoro's thin shirt dangled in the loose grip of the other. A cigarette was wedged in the thin line of his lips, a trail of smoke snaking up past his dull gaze and his hair hanging limply around his face. And the blonde said nothing. He just stood there, staring, with his curled eyebrows unmoving.

Zoro still had Wadou Ichimonji in his tight grasp, hanging by his side. He unconsciously gripped his free hand into an annoyed fist as he stared out at the blonde man. He tilted his head slightly, the man's three golden earrings jangling quietly as he let out an irritated grunt. A breeze rushed by, ticking his bare chest.

"Give me my shirt, cook."

Sanji's expression did not change.

"...Or what?" he asked quietly, cigarette clenched in his teeth as he spoke.

Zoro continued to frown, sheathing his katana with a hiss of steel before turning to walk back to town. He could feel Sanji's intense gaze burning into his bare back, knowing that this was not the answer the chef had wanted him to give...the man was surprised to feel the item of clothing hit him in the back of the head, making him stop short and glance back over his shoulder.

"Hey, you bastard...!" Sanji was growling angrily, fist clenched weakly in front of him. "You forgot something!"

The green-haired man just narrowed his eyes, uninterested in letting himself be baited by his crew mate. There was a few tense moments of staring between them before Sanji exploded.

"Why don't you ever fucking say anything?!" he cried, throwing his arm out to the side for emphasis. "Are you even a human, you cold-hearted piece of shit?!"

The green haired man almost smiled at this but instead held back, keeping his face impassive.

"Decide for yourself."

This comment nearly sent the blonde reeling.

"I already have," he shot back. "You hate me but you save my life...and you hate _me _for saving _your _life," the blonde told him, pinching his cigarette tensely in two fingers as he spoke. "You're an insufferable bastard!" Zoro's eyebrows raised.

"...So then what are you so upset about?"

He was quiet for a moment before sighing audibly.

"...I don't know," the blonde conceded, taking a few shaky steps to lean against a nearby tree. Zoro shifted uncomfortably, seeing that the blonde was too weak to have walked all the way out here and then picked a fight. His days in bed had done nothing but torment him, apparently--not that the green haired man had even spared him a passing glance in all that time.

In truth, the swordsman didn't even understand Sanji's objective. The blonde seemed like he was so confused about everything that Zoro almost wanted to write-off the cook's single, renegade embrace. Yet at the same time, the cook seemed to be so intense and sincere that it made the bounty hunter's muscles stiffen. The man grunted annoyedly, clenching his fist.

"What the hell do you even want from me, cook?!" he finally exclaimed, making the blonde glance up in surprise.

"...I..." he trailed off, staring listlessly at the other man. "...I want you to give a damn."

"What?" the swordsman spat, face betraying his incredulity. "...You hate me! And I hate you! We spend all of our time insulting each other! Why do you even care what I think?"

"Because--!" Sanji burst out, struggling to explain himself, "...because I _do_ give a damn! And I don't know why..."

The blonde had a hand to his chest, as though he were wrestling with his own feelings. Zoro, however, could not drop his raised eyebrows, nor relax the deep creasing of his brow. The swordsman did feel conflicted, as it was impossible for anyone to not feel at least slightly conflicted in the face of such strong emotions. But at his core, Zoro felt annoyed. The green-haired man did not like other people's feelings. He really didn't even like his own feelings, though he had already come to terms with the fact that he had to put up with them once in a while. And all he really wanted was for the cook to just drop all this nonsense.

"Cook," he began, making the blonde raise his downcast gaze. "We're nakama. Of course I'm going to try to save your life. I'd do that for anyone of our crew." He crossed his arms against his bare chest, making sure to look Sanji directly in the eyes as he continued. "But I can't change who I am, so I don't know why you want me to so badly."

The blonde seemed slightly struck by this comment, as though Zoro had just stated the chef's secret fears and doubts out loud.

"As long as we're crew mates, I'm stuck standing by you," he admitted, "...and maybe one of these days I'll stop wanting to kill you every time you open your mouth. Until that day comes, stop acting like such a moron."

Sanji exhaled a soft puff of smoke, the expression on his face letting Zoro know that his words had hit their mark. He did not look disappointed, exactly...the blonde looked like he was learning something.

"I don't want you to change who you are..." Sanji began again, distractedly flicking some ash from his cigarette. "I guess I was just hoping that you were the person I thought you were."

"Well I don't know," Zoro admitted, resting his hand on the hilt of Yubashiri as he spoke. There was a small clinking of steel as his three katanas shifted slightly. "...This is gonna be a long voyage. Maybe one of us will change our minds."

"Maybe it'll be you, moron!" Sanji shot back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at his crew mate's disinterest in their conversation. Zoro just gave him a sidelong stare, then shrugging as he turned away.

"Maybe, maybe not," he grunted, beginning to saunter back down towards town.

"Hey, I'm not done talking to you, bastard!" Sanji shouted after the green-haired man's retreating form, sweat-droplets still glistening on the tanned skin of the swordsman's bare back. Zoro only ceased his stride when he heard the cook begin to wheeze slightly, glancing back to see the blonde doubled over with his hands on his kneecaps.

"What are you doing now?" the swordsman inquired gruffly, crossing his arms. Sanji hoisted himself upright once more, revealing the redness of his cheeks and his sweaty brow. He was clearly having a relapse of whatever terrible fever he had been suffering for the past few days. The blonde was looking a little glazed over, swaying slightly from side to side.

"Hey," Zoro growled, "...You're the one who followed me all the way out here, so don't act sick."

The blonde frowned, though his eyes were not exactly focusing on the other man's face. And he pitched forwards without warning, Zoro watching with an annoyed wince as the blonde hit the ground. He grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed, as he crouched down and shook the man's shoulder.

"Cook..." he tried. "Hey."

He rolled the blonde over, seeing that the man's eyes were open but nobody was home.

"...Don't touch me...you bastard..." he managed slowly, voice sounding tired. Zoro just frowned deeper.

"Ok, let's go," he grunted, hauling the blonde up by one of his limp arms and hoisting the cook's thin body over his shoulder.

The swordsman began to trudge down the dirt path, back down to the village below. He hefted the cook's body once more as he walked, sensing the man he was carrying was made even more faint by being upside-down...but the green haired man had no particular problem with this. It would probably keep the blonde quiet on the way back to the ship. Zoro had no desire to talk about anymore of the other man's confused, sentimental ramblings. He would just have to deal with them as he went along, on a case by case basis.

Who knew, maybe the two of them could figure it out someday.

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OK...this was another hard one to write. I tried to let it go naturally (as usual) rather than directing it a certain way...and honestly I can't really imagine these two characters getting together, exactly, but I liike the idea of the conflict. But who knows how this story will continue? I'm not sure I will write anymore or not so I am gonna leave it open-ended, just in case I get really inspired. I hope I'm not disappointing anybody, I just don't feel like I should write lame bullshit if I have no ideas at all. So thank you for reading, everybody, because all the interest in this story is really encouraging. Till next time.


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