One Piece 1. Betting

**Betting**

**Summary:**

**At East Blue High, you're either in one gang or in another. Otherwise you'll end up hurt. Here, everyone take sides. You're either from the slum neighborhoods in the Water 7 section of the city, tastefully hidden behind a ten foot fence; or you're from the pristine, clean neighborhoods in the Enies Lobby portion. East Blue High is the meeting of these completely different worlds, making it one of the most dangerous places in Grand Line. Roronoa Zoro was just another guy from the wrong side of the tracks, until a little lunch time fun at EBH and a harmless little bet causes his life to be irrevocably intertwined with a certain blond chef. **

**Pairings: Zoro x Sanji, others. **

**Genre: Angst/Romance/Humor/Drama**

**Warning: Idiocy! Lemon! Yaoi! Drugs! Drama! Questionable Tastes and Strange Peculiarities**

**Disclaimer: E. Oda, man.**


	2. Welcome to the Jungle

**WARNING: This story is full of drugs/booze/sex/ swearing. Read at your own risk. **

Chapter Two:

Welcome to the Jungle

Welcome to the jungle  
It gets worse here every day  
You learn to live like an animal  
In the jungle where we play  
If you got a hunger for what you see  
You'll take it eventually  
You can have anything you want  
But you better not take it from me

_-"Welcome to the Jungle"-Guns n Roses_

"Wake up."

_Hmmmmm…._Zoro heard the voice just barely, sounding faraway and oddly familiar, pierce through the peaceful mists of his dream haze, and felt the insistent hands shaking his side lightly. He swam up from the rather pleasant depths of a dream he had been having, towards the approaching light and reality of his world. But still he clung to his dream. It was a nice dream.

"Wake up Zoro!"

Whoever it was, was getting annoyed now, the hands on his side shook him harder. And Zoro finally abandoned the last fleeting remnants of whatever dream he had been having. It seemed like some idiot was intent on bringing him back to life. Ah, fuck it. Dreams were for fools and reckless idiots with nutsacks of steel. He just wanted some sleep, damn it.

Cracking open one eye, the light immediately dazzling his retinas and dancing white spots across his vision, Zoro saw that the idiot was Ace D. Portgas, one of his closest friends, who had apparently decided that shaking him like a rag doll until he woke was one of the more brilliant ideas he ever had.

"What the fuck, Ace?" Zoro mumbled, twisting away and digging deeper into the warm spot of his sleep. He knew it had been a bad idea to wake up. It was just Ace, probably fucking with him for his own personal amusement. What a guy. He should have held on to the dream, it had been so nice. But he could feel the specifics already fading away as reality took their place and his conscious reasserted itself. Fuzzy images of a beautiful lake and a beautiful blonde girl were already yellowing, peeling at the corners.

"Don't fall asleep on me, you idiot!" Ace again, sounding both exasperated and amused, the tone reserved for sleeping idiots who just were irksome burdens on their friend's longsuffering consciences. His exclamation was punctuated by a sharp blow to his head.

"Oi!" _Now_ he was awake, there was no use trying to reclaim the sleep which had deserted him with his head hurting both inside and out. Zoro struggled up, his eyes watering as he yawned loudly and looked around, bemused, "Where the hell am I?" he asked, with no real surprise. Waking up in an unknown location was just the way to start another great summer day.

"Robin's.", Ace said, after giving him a '_you're thick_' look, "You that slammed that you don't even remember? I thought you didn't blaze." His best friend grinned at him and pretended to shoot him with his finger, "You been lying to me? _Me?_ Your best buddy?" He chuckled and started to pick up the trash which was scattered around the room. And there was a _lot_ of trash.

"Robin's?" Zoro repeated, his mind still struggling to wrap around the morning, refused to function, only vague images of the wild party last night came seeping in through his still-groggy mind. He was having strange recollections of playing 'spin the condom' and 'weed telephone'. "Robin's?", he repeated again, with more understanding, and then, finally, "_Robin's?_ You mean I haven't left since yesterday? Damn it Ace! I told you to get me out of here before midnight! My parents-"

"-don't give a fuck." Ace finished for him, looking up with a small impish grin, "Admit it. They probably didn't even notice you were gone last night. I don't see why you even worry anymore. Though I_ have_ to admit, it's kind of cute."

Zoro winced, "Don't call me cute-and thanks a whole fucking bunch for reminding me, I mean, I really needed that. Well, at least I _have _parents. Bastard."

Ace laughed and bared his teeth in what Zoro assumed was a smile, "Touché. It seems we're both rather short on that account, but don't worry, sweet child, we always got each other." Ace clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and winked at him roguishly.

Zoro chuckled quietly, Ace always seemed to have something snappy to light up the dullest day or the most bitterest reminder, it kind of reminded Zoro of Ace's younger brother, a young kid who had the talent to get anyone to smile. He slowly eased himself up on the couch, taking the time to stretch his limbs and pop all the joints in his body that needed popping.

Zoro let out a low grunt of amusement when he noticed that someone had spilled their weed all over the thing at some point in the couch's long history in this apartment. The herby sachet was aromatic, drifting up from the cracks in the sofa where the ashes had fallen and the scent still lingered. The couch was a dingy thing, dirty, with cigarette burns scattered over it like small wounds, but it also had a lot of memories, a lot of history if you could dig that. Hell, he had had sex with Jewelry Bonny on this couch, if he wasn't mistaken. Good times.

Ace was across the room, throwing away the random pieces of fast food wrappers that he crossed his path and sorting through the junk on the floor, looking for his stuff, "We have to get to school dude." he said, glancing up to make sure that Zoro had finally woken up, and then turning around to start rummaging through the clothes strewn across the floor, probably looking for his shirt and jacket.

"_Fuck _school." Zoro said viciously, threw up his hands in annoyance, and bonelessly flopped back onto the couch, where he had apparently fallen asleep or passed out on last night. "You woke me up for that shit? I mean, seriously? I thought we were going to have some _fun_."

"My sentiments exactly. But it's the first day, you know, which is why we celebrated last night, one last free party before the school year sets in you know. But we need to be there to get all our shit settled. Our schedules and classes…that kind of stuff." Ace said, he had found his shirt, it was a dark crimson which showed off his muscles nicely, a fact that Ace probably knew well. The man was too fucking promiscuous for his own good.

As if to punctuate Zoro's silent opinion, Ace was currently disentangling his black leather jacket from a lacy red bra. "First day is when we learn all that and if we're not there then it's a pain in the ass figuring it all out the next day." The freckled man had succeeded in liberating his garment from the feminine clutches of the lingerie, his jacket looked good on him. But then, everything did. It was Ace.

But school already….where the hell had July gone? The last he had known, it had been June something! Zoro gave another half-hearted groan, but he got up and started his own unenthusiastic search for his garments from the mess on the floor. Empty soda cans and beer bottles lay all over the carpet of the small one bedroom apartment, and the familiar scents of stale alcohol and weed floated in the air. It was an illegal potpourri to which he had grown so used to that he didn't even smell it anymore. Zoro saw a hypo lying next to a used condom on the kitchen counter_. Lovely. I mean, what a real way to start the day off._

But what the hell had he been expecting? That that nice dream would turn out to be reality and that he's wake up to a nice five-bedroom home with three point five bathrooms? Dream on, just like Steven Tyler said. Dream on.

He sighed and finally located his shirt and jacket from the pile on the floor, they weren't wrapped up in some girl's intimate apparel like Ace's, but he found a couple phone numbers in his back pocket, and a lipstick mark teasingly left in the crotch area of his jeans, "What did we have, an orgy?" he grumbled to Ace, wiping off the pink gloss and pulling out a condom from his jean pocket and tossing it into the trashcan with the rest of the crap.

"Close enough, I guess." was the cheerful response. Though Zoro doubted if Ace had anything _but _orgies, now that he thought about it, "Got your bandanas?" Ace held up a small square of black cloth, oddly sinister in its simplicity. People wouldn't believe that lives could be lost if that small square foot of cloth was maltreated by the wrong people. Water 7, in Zoro's private, personal opinion, had long ago left the regions of dangerously sensitive, and had sailed off into the land of utter lunacy.

"Yeah. Of course. I'd be fucking crazy if I didn't go out with this." Zoro picked up his black bandana, folded it carefully, and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans so that it was clearly showing. The second one, he tied around his head where it covered his forehead and shadowed his eyes. Ace had already positioned his in his back pocket and another one around his arm. Gang rules demanded that they go everywhere with their colors emblazoned somewhere on their person-especially in the presence of other rival factions.

And East Blue High School, his and Ace's school, was a fucking powder keg of explosives. All the colors of the gangster rainbow could be seen on a typical day. Zoro would count a good day as when only two or three kids got suspended. Fights, drugs, sex, prostitution; everything and anything was fair game under the EBHS roof. Vice thrived.

"You boys ready already?" a calm voice interposed on their thoughts. The low and husky butterscotch voice of a true alto, a voice which never failed to turn Zoro on if it whispered the right things in his ear. Though he would rather have his balls cut off and eaten by a cannibal savage then disrespect her in the slightest.

Turning, Zoro and Ace saw the host of last night's party and current owner of the apartment, as well as one of their closest friends. Robin Nico was standing at the entrance of her bedroom and the two men saw a brief glimpse of clean surroundings, a well-made bed, and tasteful furniture, before the black-haired woman swept it shut again.

She was dressed to the nines, as she always was, in a short black dress with long sleeves and a high collar that showed off her magnificent cleavage. A stylish, and slightly raunchy pair of black heels whose tops went all the way up to mid-thigh accentuated the long lines of her legs. Like them, she wore a black bandana; it was tied around her throat. It looked like a black noose; a deadly rope around a slender neck.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about the mess, Robin." Ace said, after giving her an appreciative look, and clearly embarrassed, he gestured to the wreckage around the apartment. It got a little out of hand...", he trailed off, "I tried to clean up some…" Zoro yawned and nodded, hoping he looked like he had also helped clean.

"That's all right." Robin smiled, her eyes crinkling in amusement at the corners, " Don't apologize. I quite enjoyed it. Especially when you gave us that simply delightful strip tease."

Ace chuckled sheepishly, "Damn that Franky, he won the bet-I seriously didn't think he'd be able to chug five Budweiser's in a _row_. The guy must have a stomach like _steel._"

Robin favored Ace with a smile which would have been a smirk if it hadn't been so achingly polite, "Well, there were more than a few ladies who were absolutely ecstatic about your loss, I'm sure you got more than your fair share of kisses and hugs yesterday, am I wrong?"

"I wouldn't call them _hugs_.", Ace snickered, rubbing his cheeks with the palms of his hands, "Robin, you wouldn't believe-"

Zoro meanwhile was heading toward the door, yawning, bored with the talk. Ace had been his best friend for years, and had already had the chance to witness all his little nasty habits firsthand. "Come on, let's go. Robin, I'll help you clean up afterschool…" He just wanted to get this shit over with.

"Wait a minute," Ace interjected, suddenly laughing, "How are we supposed to get to school? Zoro, you have a motorcycle. There's three people here. And Robin's car is at Franky's. Getting fixed, right Ro?"

"Yes. Franky was so kind as to give me a minimum discount on fixing the carburetor."

"That's because he wants to get into your pants-ow!", Zoro yelped in pain as Robin managed to sneak up behind him and pinch him fiercely in the butt cheek.

"Franky is _nice_. He's not like _you_ Zoro.", Robin said, stressing his name a little too sweetly for there to be any benevolence. Zoro tried to snatch the book in her bag, hit them where it hurts, baby. But Robin danced out of reach, grinning widely.

"Stop flirting guys!", Ace cried, looking outraged, "We need to get to school, somehow! Zoro's bike holds only two people, and there's three of us!"

Zoro turned to his friend thoughtfully, and cracked his neck, furrowed his brow for about a second, grinned, "We'll manage."

~0~

"I know…I miss you too. Even now, when I'm talking to you…", Sanji murmured into the phone that was precariously balanced between his ear and his shoulder as he tried to do a million things at once while talking to his girlfriend. He had overslept, on one of the most important days of the year, even though he had set the alarm an hour early. The _annoyingly_ loud one. But the jet lag had affected him more then he cared to admit, and he had ended up a quarter of an hour late.

"Are you ready? Yeah? Ok, then I'll be there in ten minutes-no, make that five. Don't want to keep you waiting do I? Can you believe we're going to be seeing each other for the first time in two months, in a few minutes? Yeah. Yeah. Ok, bye, love you too. ", he crooned into his cell phone, flipped it shut and kissed the cover in a dramatic smooch. "Oh, how I love you my precious Nami~"

Sanji Blackleg glanced at himself in the hall mirror, and gave himself a rakish grin, his usual devil-may-care smile which had snagged more than his fair share of pretty hearts, and had won him the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He smoothed his hair over his eye and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up for that perfect badass look which made him look like one cool fucker. Just like he had spent the night in erotic abandon; though probably the wildest thing he had done last night was crawl into the bed without switching into his pajamas.

He sprayed one final dash of cologne, and fixed his button-up shirt one last time, opening up the top to turn it into a intimate v-neck, and finally he was rushing out the door, stopping only to pick up his school binder and his car keys. Sanji hummed a snatch of a song as he went, and then, abandoning the weak attempt at restraint, he burst into song as he slammed the front door shut, rattling the panes of glass dangerously. He didn't even notice.

"_If I were you, I would take this as a sign! Believe it's true, we were never meant to fly! I know you, I know you more than anyone alive! And I will not let go!", _he sang, a loud and gusty baritone, velvet smoke. Sanji knew he had a nice singing voice, and he immodestly took advantage of it whenever he could.

It would take him only three minutes to reach Nami's house, but he wanted to stop by the store to pick up some flowers for her. What could say 'I love you' more than an unexpected batch of red roses? What kind of man would he be if, on the first day he met her again, after a two months absence, showed up empty handed?

Sanji jogged across the lawn towards his car, singing lustily. The world seemed more than perfect at this minute, and it was a welcome change. Because even when Zeff had practically exiled him in Paris, he had not complained, Sanji had secretly been relieved to leave behind Enies Lobby, because…well, no use thinking about it now, not now.

"_They will not remember this song! No matter what we do we'll be wrong! They will not remember this song! No matter what we'll do we'll be wrong! I can't seem to see the seal we're breaking! I can't seem to seal we broke! I refuse to recognize your views! Someone shouted 'Everything's for nothing", somebody shouted, 'all is lost'! But I can't buy that nonsense, too!" _

"_Way back when the prophecies began, do you really think they had a master plan? Or were they merely writing fable stories? Well, I don't know, but it has occurred to me, the punishment that they threaten constantly, it's only real if they could just convince me!"_

He threw his binder in the shotgun seat and jumped into the driver's seat, not even bothering to open the door. His car was, after all, a silver Mercedes convertible. A beautiful beast of a car which would have had the girls lining up for a ride and a night if he had been single. But, sorry ladies, he had fallen for a fiery empress and his heart was in her hold.

"_We're going down down down to Mephisto's café! Down down down to Mephisto's café!" _

Sanji turned the keys in the ignition and heard the engine roar to life in a satisfying purr. The radio turned on, letting out a blast of pop music. He turned it down, and popped in his Streetlight Manifesto CD and continued to sing, this time with the music accompanying his voice. Sanji grinned as the chorus blasted out of the high-def speakers and he turned it up, the lyrics were hard and fast like bullets, and it took all of his lung's capacity to keep up to the beat of the song.

He felt great. Not only was e going to see Nami again, but it was the first day of his senior year. First days were always exciting because of the new people-the new _girls_-he met and the new classes he was going to take. But today was even better than all that measly shit. He and Nami were now officially _together_ and he couldn't wait to start all those cute _couple _things that going together in school entailed. He'd hold her bag, be her lab partner, walk her to class, buy her lunch….the whole shebang.

Ten minutes later, he was at Nami's house, feeling like a bundle of live wire as he waited at her door, a nervous hand tangling in his tie and a dozen red roses in is other hand, feeling as if all the butterflies in his stomach were whirling in acrobatic inside. It seemed eons ago that he had rung the doorbell, an old fashioned bell, hanging on the side, shaped like a windmill. Nami would most likely be rushing to the door this minute, the thought made him dizzy with apprehension and excitement.

Sanji heard the approaching footsteps for what seemed like hours before the door finally flew open. His heart beat in time to the small steps, and it felt so wonderful to be in love and alive. And then the door was opening, and his heart was bursting, and his arms were suddenly filled with hot, red-headed woman.

Sanji hugged back fiercely, making sure not to drop the bouquet of roses in his hand, but not succeeding in keeping them intact; he couldn't help but crush the slender frame in front of him to his chest. The roses nodded and bounced in approval, petals falling everywhere in a miniature bridal shower for him and his love.

"I missed you so much Sanji! It's been so long since I last saw you. Time just didn't seem to pass when you weren't here…" Nami was murmuring, her voice jagging up and down in a courageous effort not to cry. It made _him _want to cry, a little. But before she did, or before _either _of them did, Nami gave him a last squeeze and drew back so that she could she him better. Her eyes, always wide and beautiful and slightly critical, flew over his body, returning to savor his face every second or so, as is she wasn't sure if it was him or just a very clever imposter.

Sanji chuckled, and resisted his impulse to dance around her in a mini-hurricane of emotion; he had outgrown that childish habit, damn it. Nami wasn't just talking about the ten minutes since they had talked on the phone. She was talking about the three months before that.

Sanji had spent the summer in Paris and had only gotten back yesterday, late at night. He had been in Europe for a cooking competition, both as a representative of the Baratie, but also as a judge on the the cooking panel for more than a few culinary contests.

All in all, it had resulted in not seeing each other physically for a little over twelve weeks now; and they had been heartbroken at each other's lingering absence. Though Sanji had called Nami every day, if only to exchange a few words, the three most important ones, and to heat the sound of his lover's voice. He would have returned from France sooner, but the old geezer had been adamant that he stay until the last minute, in order to gain every shred of knowledge, and in order to learn every single last cooking technique known to mankind.

"Yeah, long time no see." Sanji grinned foolishly, basking in her obvious pleasure and beauty. "I have something for you..", he thrust out the roses in her hands to her, feeling like the biggest five year old kid all of a sudden, "Nami, I love you."

Nami gasped and accepted them with a shocked, but pleased, " Thank you, " and she squealed adorably when she buried her nose in the red explosion, sniffing them, and cried out, "They smell amazing!", Nami held out her arms once more, and Sanji melted inside them and kissed her, opening his mouth and his heart and really kissing her. Hard and economic. The way they both liked it.

They stayed like that for a while, not sure, in a distant and detached sort of way, if time was passing or not outside the capsule of their bodies. Until Nami, gasping, pulled back and said, "We're going to be late-", her cheeks were roses that put the flowers in her hands to shame, and her black eyes sparkled, nearly drunk.

"Oh, yeah.." Sanji said, not really caring, wanting more. Everything tingled inside, He couldn't help but remember the beach, by the water. Inside membranous heat.

Nami saw this in his face and laughed, her eyes also betraying the remembrance. She picked up her purse from where it was lying on the floor and offered the arm not carrying the purse and roses to Sanji, "Will the gentleman escort the lady to the car?" she joked, the fever in her cheeks was still high, the kiss refused to fade.

Sanji grinned at her, feeling both foolish invincible, "Of course milady. I am but in your humble service.", he accepted the arm and walked her to his car. Making sure to open the passenger side door for her and help her in, letting his hands roam far too much.

He paused to toss his binder on the floor, and leaned down to steal another quick kiss before moving back around the car to get into his seat. He buckled his seatbelt, and turned onto the street, but not before he checked both sides and turned on his blinker, to signal he was entering the street.

He always drove safely with a lady in his car.

~0~

"_Oh…my...god! Sha!" _

"_Welcome to the jungle! We got fun and games! We got everything you got! Honey, baby we got the names! We are the people that you find, for everything you might need! And if you got no money, honey, we've got your disease! In the jungle! Welcome to the jungle! Watch it bring you to your knees-Shit! _I think you passed a red light!" Ace, who had been singing the opening bars to GNR's classic, 'Welcome to the Jungle, yelled. His exclamation cutting him off in mid-refrain.

They _had_ managed to fit all three of their bodies on, though Robin was currently getting squashed into his back, and Ace was just hanging on by a whisper. It didn't help that they didn't have any helmets. The brain buckets were way too expensive, in Zoro's private opinion.

"What?" Zoro yelled back, the wind was tearing the words out of their mouths-they were going what, eighty, ninety miles per hour? He turned around to hear Ace better, but for some reason freaked Ace out, for the freckled young man roughly shoved Zoro's face frontside again.

"Fuck! Don't look at me! Concentrate on the road! Jeez, Zoro you should just give me this damn bike, you're going to wreck it before long-"

"Like hell!", Zoro yelled back, letting one of the throttles go to thump his thigh in time, "Come on, you're just getting to my favorite part-_Welcome to the jungle, it gets worser every day! Ya learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play-"_

Robin joined in, her voice the furthest thing possible from Axl Rose's screaming vocals, _"If you have a hunger for what you see, you'll take it eventually, You can have everything you want but you better not to take it from me!" _

Ace joined in, and their voices rose like lunatics across the streets, earning blank stares and approving grins from the Water 7 inhabitants, _"In the Jungle! Welcome to the jungle! And when you're high, you never want to be down, sup down…sup down…sup down_!"

"_You're in the jungle baby! you're gonna die! Feel my…my…my serpentine!" _

"God, I love this song!", Ace yelled, grinning like a madman, exhilarated.

Zoro laughed and nodded, and continued racing up the streets, blatantly ignoring the SCHOOL ZONE-25 MPH signs. He would have been so completely lost by now if Robin hadn't thankfully taken it into her head to whisper the directions into his ear. It was creepy how insightful she was at times. Just creepy.

But this day was starting off pretty damn good in fact. He was dragging, with his friends, and singing GNR's Welcome to the Jungle at the top of his lungs. Life seemed to have reached a peak in all the misery thus far. He didn't know, didn't care. All he wanted to do was ride forever and to sing the last line with more gusto than even Ace. The last line which was the truest thing that could be said of Water 7.

"_It's gonna bring you down!"_

~0~

Nami asked about his trip back home. Sanji answered and asked how Nami's cheerleading practice was going. They smiled and stole little glances at each other, and occasionally Sanji's hand would rest over Nami's on the armrest between the two seats.

It was almost impossible to talk when their thoughts were filled with each other. If that made any sense. But then, did love _ever _make any sense? All that Sanji knew was that there was a comfortableness around them, an aura. So hard to explain.

Sanji interrupted himself in his reverie for a brief second to steal a glance at the car clock. It didn't really come as a surprise that they were late. But he didn't want Nami to suffer from his own ineptitude, he'd have to take one of those more unsavory shortcuts through Water 7. Oh, joy. Sanji fought the urge to lock the car doors before he signaled and turned onto a narrow street. He knew that was a ridiculous prejudice. A _strong _ridiculous prejudice.

Nami immediately made a face, "Do we have to go this way? Water gives me the _creeps."_, her arms went up and rubbed gingerly at her shoulders, her forearms crossing her chest, as if attempting to cover her breasts from sight.

Sanji smiled apologetically, "Sorry, but we're running a little late, and this_ is_ the quickest way. Don't worry about it, I'm sure no one's going to stop and mug us at the stop sign. Not with me here." He meant it as a joke, a little knee-slapper which would bring a gorgeous dimple to his princess's cheeks. Something that he could laugh at so that he wouldn't feel so nervous taking this detour down Satan's ally.

But the look Nami sent in his direction at the quip was anything but amused and Sanji gave her a quick apologetic look which made Nami roll her eyes. She sighed and shifted restlessly in her seat, "I'd almost rather be late." She glanced moodily out the window of the convertible, her eyes dark and bitter, _nostalgic_. They looked too old to be in her young, sweet face.

She looked far from happy that Sanji was taking a shortcut that cut through Water 7. Water 7-the land of the exiled, the land where the water of its namesake was foul and filled with poisonous things which would bite the hand which dared to submerge itself in the dark waters of its fountain.

No one was sure who had named this part of town Water 7; or why, or even what it meant, but the slums had always been called Water 7 as long as the residents of both sides had remembered. Sanji could feel the hackles rise up on his neck as they passed through, part of it was the reputation Water 7 had, and part of it was the desolate feeling that seemed to reverberate from one discarded building to another. It seemed as if they had taken a wrong turn into another reality.

Peeling paint and windows that had been curtained with decaying yellow newspapers seemed to scream out in mute testimony to the poverty and waste that permeated the area. Graffiti adorned every wall available and refuse lay piled up next to the large recycling bins. The cars parked along the narrow street were old and junky, several, Sanji noted, with bitter amusement, had been broken into.

The quiet was sinister, the quiet of mourning people at a wake, not the quiet of a serene morning as was the case in Enies lobby. Everything was different here. Sanji's hand tightened unconsciously on the wheel as he drove, the knuckles on his hand turning white.

"Let's hurry, okay?" Nami pleaded softly. Sanji glanced at her, and noted that her eyes were wide and pale. Scared.

"Yeah." Sanji said, and swallowed audibly. He stepped on the gas and the convertible whisked through the street, its motor purring. He felt it too. Sanji wasn't exactly scared, he knew that there really wasn't going to be a violent hijacking as they passed through. But that vibe that _they didn't belong here_ was too acute to be ignored comfortably. It was a brooding malevolence which told them to get out now, while they still could.

It was like walking in a haunted house during the daylight-you knew the vampire and the ghouls were in the basement, knowing that you walked their territory. But you understood, too, that they were helpless to come out while the light was strong…but if you still lingered when darkness fell…

Sanji shook his head slightly. Physically trying to get rid of the images that wanted to creep into his head, knowing that it was pure idiocy to try to classify everyone in Water 7 as a monster. But he seemed to have forgotten what it had been like here in those two months in Europe.

Once they were clear of that part of Water 7, and the sun seemed to come back from wherever it had run away, Nami seemed to brighten physically-her eyes sparkled and her white teeth flashed in relief. She started to chirp on and on about something funny that had happened to her and her best friend Vivi Nefertari, when they had been at the mall the other day.

But for once, Sanji wasn't listening. Well, he _was,_ enough so that he could nod and laugh in the right places, but he wasn't actually paying her any attention. He couldn't shake the image of that dirty and dishelved neighborhood out of his mind. It had seemed so…full of lost dreams and dead hope

Sure he had lived in Grand Line all his life, and he had known about Water 7, had been through it a few times, but this was the first time he had ever actually noticed it. Maybe it was because he had been so happy, that the difference between the two had been too great to not notice.

Abandoned buildings, trash all around like some joker's form of lawn decoration. Relics of a different lifestyle, of a different people.

Sanji had lived in Enies Lobby for a large portion of his life. Before that-but no, he didn't like to think about what had come before the fancy house he now lived in and the luxury convertible he now drove. That had been in another life. Something which was best left in peace. A fact in which Nami heartily concurred.

Just like the bad parts of town had been known collectively as Water 7, the rich-and some would argue, _white_- parts of Grand Line had been dubbed Enies Lobby. Again, by whom, nobody knew….but the name had stuck. Enies Lobby and Water 7-the sun and the moon, light and dark, day and night, good and evil.

Hard. Hard to break out of those dual castes. Hard to think it wasn't so. That life couldn't be so unfair. That God existed, surely. Sanji thought and thought, his eyes unfocused, his hands guiding the convertible automatically. Nami was talking, but he wasn't listening. The sun was back and they were out, but he was still immersed in shadows, and back there. Wandering the eternal night.

A few years ago, the town fathers had elected to construct a tasteful barrier around Water 7, complete with tasteful trees and hedges, but it was a wall all the same. There had been some protests from the residents of Water 7, but these had been no more regarded then the indignant howling of a wild animal when the tractors come to clear away their habitats. He knew because Zeff had been disgusted and had gotten drunk the night when construction began.

And anyways, real estate value had gone up, once the beautiful homes in Enies Lobby no longer had to look over the darkened wastelands of Water 7. And of course, the wall had become a popular site for political graffiti. And after a while, Water 7 had realized that the wall cast a shadow which they could work in, away from prying eyes which misunderstood.

"Sanji?"

"Hm-what?" he said, jerking out of this thoughts to see Nami peering at him closely.

"I've been talking to you for a while now." Nami said softly, her eyes questioning, "Were you even paying attention to me?"

"Sorry." he said, feeling anything but, and struggling to come back, he turned to his orange-haired girlfriend, "I was just woolgathering…what were you saying?"

Nami looked at him oddly, a look which said much, but she didn't say anything. Instead, satisfied that she had once again her boyfriend's complete and undivided attention, she sunk back into the sheepskin lined seat and began to chat about her best friend and their general circle of friends. Sanji tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but this morning it just wasn't working-his mind kept going back to that somehow-terribly pathetic-neighborhood.

And Nami's beautiful soprano voice seemed to vibrate shrilly in his head; disturbing his train of thoughts. He wasn't mad or even annoyed at her, but-ah_, fuck-_he didn't even know anymore. Where the hell had his brain eloped to?

So Sanji was infinitely glad when they finally turned into the student parking lot of East Blue High so he could take his mind off whatever was bothering him and focus instead on what he _should_ be thinking about-which was the first day of school and meeting all his friends and finding his classes. Sanji smiled, his good mood somewhat restored, and a supreme effort on his part, shoved the sight of Water 7 slowly to the back of his mind.

Meanwhile Nami was craning her head out the window, seeing if she could spot any of her friends, her constant chatter not stopping for a second, it was one of the things that Sanji loved about her.

"Wow, there's Vivi's car-a Lexus-so she must be here then, you know, she picks up Kohza from his house and drives him? I wonder what her dad thinks about that? I mean, he's not really her level at all...Oh! Look there's a free space!" She pointed to a spot further up the row where Sanji could now see a slight gap between the bumpers of two cars.

"Ah, good one." Sanji said, "I forgot how packed the parking lots were over here…" he flicked on his right blinker to signify that the space was his, so hands off bitches, and started to pull quickly into it-but before he could pull all the way in, he slammed on the brakes, stopping his Mercedes at a skewed angle, half-in and half-out of the lot. Nami let out a small scream of surprise.

A motorcycle was already occupying the space, and which Sanji hadn't seen coming from the angle he had-the other cars had blocked the view. His front bumper had come less than an inch from the back wheel.

Sanji had barely time to register this-his heart was still thumping from the nearness of the collision-when he registered the fact that there were people on the black Harley. And yes, _people._ He saw that there were three people-_how the hell did they manage that one?_

One had already gotten off and was glaring at him, but the other two were struggling off, looking back over their shoulders at the thing which had almost run them over. Two men and a woman. None were helmets. Sanji had barely enough time to note the black bandanas on all three before the one who had been off when Sanji had almost collided with the bike raised one large black motorcycle boot and slammed it on the roof of his silver convertible.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, you asshole!", the guy yelled, Sanji took in his angry, freckled face and a faint bell of recognition rang deep in his mind. _What was his name? Andrew? Aaron?_

"Sorry..." Sanji called out, he had beaten the shit out of people for less than that, but he had almost killed the guy, so he wasn't the one who should start something, "I thought the space was empty..." His hand shifted to the reverse.

"You almost fucking hit me!" the guy shouted, but now the anger in his tone had been tempered with bitter amusement, "I wouldn't have minded, but then you'd have to wash my dirty _minority_ blood off of this beautiful piece of car. Shit, man, you'd have to wash it with _anti-bacterial soap._" He punctuated this statement with another slam to the hood with his boot.

Sanji's jaw had dropped and he was openly gaping, he knew he should just get the hell out of here, but he was completely shocked by this guy's utter hatred. Sanji didn't even _know_ him and the guy was acting like Sanji had just raped and murdered his mother.

He took a glance at that the other two people who had been on the bike to see if all of them were as crazy as the freckled guy. But they were just leaning back against the black bike, watching the show with clear amusement.

He had time to think '_what the hell'_, about the strange green hair color of one and notice the beauty of the other-because even in the strangest moments this was one thing he always found time to appreciate-before the guy whose name he couldn't quite remember drew back his attention.

"Hey, I bet this fucking car costs more than my entire family income!", the guy yelled, and then he jumped lightly onto the hood, hunkering with his elbows propped on his knees and his hands dangling loosely in between his legs. "Hey, beautiful." he said, seeing Nami. She recoiled as if he had thrown something at her. He nodded, as if though he had expected this, "Figured."

Meanwhile Sanji had had enough. What the hell was he supposed to do? Like fuck he was going to fight this guy for reasons he wasn't even sure of. Sanji slipped into reverse and backed out, not caring that the guy was still perched on the car like some kind of human hood ornament. The raven jumped off though, before Sanji had clearly backed up the car, and stood watching as Sanji drove off.

"That's right! Run away motherfucker!", he heard the guy scream after him, and though it pissed him off, he ignored it. Ignored, too, the explosion of laughter which followed the statement.

_What the fuck had that been all about? _

~0~

Zoro tried to hold his laughter back for a few seconds to say, "Ace, did you see his fucking face?" The guy's face had been all eyes, surprise splashed all over it. Zoro had to feel a little bad, even if the guy _had _almost hit them, but Ace was just sometimes too much. Though, he had to admit that it was hilarious.

Ace grinned back and slapped him a high five, "Probably wondering how many diseases I was carrying when I touched his car."

Even Robin smiled-and it was harder to pull a smile from that particular woman than fuck. But it was a well known fact that Robin Nico had suffered at the hands of people like the guy they had just been harassing-though no one knew the details. Except maybe Blackbeard. Not even Zoro knew.

But that was just fine. That was one thing that was great about Water 7 and those who lived in it. There never were polite and curious questions delving into the past. There never were people looking through the old, dusty, and painful skeletons in the closet. It was a mutual understanding that what was in the past, was left in the past. That there were things better left forgotten.

Zoro paused, a little subdued with his musings, "Who was he?"

Ace, by way of answer, struck an effeminate pose and mimed smoothing his hair over his eye. When Zoro only looked puzzled, he said, "That, my dear ignorant, was Sanji Blackleg."

Zoro laughed, "The Prince?" Sanji had been Homecoming Prince for three times in a row now. Zoro had never seen him up close, but he had heard of him."That makes it even funnier."

"Why do you think I took it so far?" Ace asked, grinning evilly. "Part that and part I just wanted to put a little 'fuck you' into his day. A day that probably would have gone picture perfect otherwise." Ace said, sounding gloomy suddenly, "Showing up in daddy's shiny new convertible...seriously..Just wanted to wake him up to the charming fact of reality."

Robin glanced at Ace, and then remarked, "But did he really deserve that? He didn't really do anything to you, and he tried to apologize. Most wouldn't even have bothered."

Ace frowned, "Fucker deserves it for having a convertible when there's people in Water 7 using food stamps. Christ, Robin, whose side are you on?"

Robin shrugged and looked away, her thoughts already moving on, no doubt.

Zoro yawned again, now that that little entertainment was over, he felt sleepy again. If the day had started out interesting then maybe the rest of it wouldn't be a total waste. He sighed, "Let's go" and started walking off in the direction of the school gates. Ace and Robin fell in step with him, and their talk turned to other things, but it was mostly about Blackbeard.

Blackbeard, that crazy motherfucker.

~0~

"Why didn't you do anything Sanji?" Nami protested as they parked the car and walked off to one of the

side entrances of the school. Her voice was sharp and jagged, scared still.

Sanji shrugged, "I almost hit them." he said, "It wouldn't have been right for me to beat them up just because they got mad. I would have been pissed off too. It's not like I was scared of them, any other situation and I would have beaten the shit out of them."

Nami glanced at him, irritated, with what she considered his disinterested attitude, "But you tried to apologize! And they didn't have to say all that stuff! It was an accident!"

He sighed, and shook his head, "I should have been more careful. I could have seriously injured them."

"Who cares?" Nami muttered, her tone clearly indicating her belief that the trio would have deserved it for their belligerent attitudes, "They're just.." her words trailed off, but Sanji could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air as clearly as if she had spoken them. _They're just Water Sevens._

Sanji's jaw tightened and he dropped the hand that he had been holding while they walked to the gate and jammed both his hands into his pants pockets. "Why is there such a difference?" he demanded. And, hell if all he had slammed into the back of his head hadn't just burst forth and presented itself in all its glory.

"What do you _mean? _What_ difference_?" Nami said, looking confused and hurt that Sanji had stopped holding her hand, her hand trailed out and waved foolishly in the air, looking both silly and empty.

"Between the people who live in Water 7 and us!" he exclaimed. He couldn't get the freckled man's expression out of his mind when he had said 'Hey_, I bet this fucking car costs more than my entire family income!'._ Somehow, Sanji didn't think he had been lying. Why the fuck hadn't he noticed anything before? Where the hell had he _been?_

"Uh, the difference is the_ marijuana_ they carry to school and the _switchblades_ they carry in their boots." Nami said sarcastically.

"They can't be all that bad..."Sanji argued.

"Yeah, they're real angels."

He looked at her reproachfully. They were approaching the large group of people clustered around the billboard with everybody's name and first period class posted.

There was a stiff silence for a few seconds, before Nami broke it.

Nami sighed."Look Sanji, I'm sorry I'm being so bitchy…but that little encounter really scared me..."she trailed off.

"No, _I'm _sorry.", Sanji immediately said, feeling a little ashamed of himself. If there was a person between the two of them who could speak about Water 7 with some authority, then it was Nami. She had lived there for a long time as a young child, and had been through hell, and come out anything but unscathed. And had, too, developed a keen paranoia and near-hatred of her own people. Her own kind.

"Just…let's forget about it.", Nami murmured, and linked hands again with him, "Just, be careful now, for the next couple days okay? Promise?"

Sanji looked surprised, "Why?"

She stared at him with an _'are-you-serious?_ expression, "Did you even see who was messing with you?" Her face looked like she had seen the devil himself twitching his forked tail and shoving her boyfriend around with his tri-pronged pitchfork.

Sanji felt a great unease settle over the pit of his stomach, "No…Why? I thought I recognized the black-haired guy…what was his name again? Aaron? Andrew?"

Nami gaped at him and hissed, "His name is _Ace. Portgas D. Ace_. And it was _Robin Nico_ and _Zoro_ _Roronoa_ too!", she repeated with emphasis, "_Ace, Robin, and Zoro_."

"The guy with the green hair? What about him?" Sanji, like Zoro had of him, never come face to face with Zoro Roronoa, but had only heard rumors about him, none pleasant. Violence and infamy tagged the man's footsteps like hungry dogs.

Nami seemed to lose some of her fear as she expanded on one of her favorite subjects-gossip, "Well, for starters, all three of them are in Blackbeard's gang."

"Blackbeard?" Sanji said doubtfully, he had heard of Blackbeard, a notorious drug dealer and gang leader who ruled the dark politics of Water 7, but he didn't think he had much to do with a high school.

Nami frowned at him, "There's a limit to ignorance you know. Well, they're members of Blackbeard's gang. And Ace and Zoro are especially high up in the ranking. I'm not sure about Robin though. I mean, I never really heard anything about her when I was…you know."

"Okay, well, that's nice to know." Sanji said, not really knowing what he should do with this information. He wasn't scared, or even nervous; just bewildered at where the nice day had gone. The first time he'd seen Nami in two whole months and it had turned into a scene from _The Godfather. _

"They say Zoro's some sort of demon."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind.", Sanji fiddled with his binder.

"And Ace is a pyro. There's rumors that he's burned down a lot of the buildings in the city.", Nami looked at him, "That's why I'm telling you to be _careful_. I know these people, Sanji. You might think that I'm just bullshitting, but I'm _not_. I _lived _there. I _know_."

"Don't worry Nami, I'll be fine. You know me, nothing can keep me down. Hey, let's go look at our schedules." he grabbed Nami's hand, smiled at her with a carelessness he didn't feel, and tugged her toward the billboard, greeting friends as he went.

The information Nami had frontloaded him with was spinning around in his head. Sanji felt as if he had been targeted for death by the mafia. He hadn't done anything to any of the three members. There was nothing to get upset over. They would have a good laugh at his expense and forget about it.

Where the hell had all the good vibes gone? And it didn't even feel like the day was over. It felt like it was just beginning. Hell, it felt like he had had his eyes closed for his whole life to what went down in Water 7, and he had just opened them this morning all because they had been late to school. All because he had overslept.

Can someone say serendipity?

~0~

**Author's Note: This is the revised version of Chapter One, I hope you guys enjoyed a lot more than the last version. It has nine pages of more information and description, and I think it is 200% better than the old one. If you want to review, and you can't because of some glitch, then just drop an anonymous one. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! **


	3. High Stakes

Chapter Three

High Stakes

A moment of silence, please, for those who never get the chance  
They show up to the party, but they're never asked to dance  
The losers, the liars, the bastards, the thieves  
The cynics, the pessimists, and those that don't believe in nothing  
I never met a loser that I didn't see eye-to-eye with, I declare  
I stare into your eyes  
But you look right past me into the air  
What's it like to stand in your shoes?  
To have never felt the belt of somebody's abuse?  
I take the bottle and I tip it to all my heroes that have passed  
Alas, you have left us, but your stories they will last  
Uninspired by the recruiting call  
Independent we stand  
Independent we fall  
So tell me: how long do you think you can go before you lose it all?  
Before they call you bluff and watch you fall?  
I don't know, but I'd like to think I had control  
At some point, but I let it go and lost my soul  
Sit tight, but the revolution's years away  
You're losing faith and I'm running low on things to say  
So, I guess I have no choice but to regurgitate  
The tired anthem of a loser and a hypocrite  
Oh! To have died that night, I realized it wouldn't last  
Our days were numbered and the reaper tipped the hourglass  
The final mayday of our sinking ship had come and passed  
Oh! To the west, you don't know what it is you're running from  
And everybody's laughing loud

_-"A Moment of Silence", Streetlight Manifesto_

~0~

"Ahhh…finally, I thought it'd never come." Zoro grumbled as the bell for the end of fourth period sounded, signaling the start of the lunch hour. School had been as boring as he remembered it. The classes weren't even hard, and the constant tension from the all the other gang members that he had to deal with was something he could have done without.

It reminded him of what he had thought of earlier; that East Blue High was a ticking bomb, just waiting to go off. The analogy only really came alive when you were in the room where the blue, the red, the black, and the yellow all showed themselves with a species of ruthless pride.

Ace glanced over at him and laughed, "I see you're excited to be back to school." Ace and Zoro had managed to get all their classes together except two. They were just coming from fourth period, which they had together-American History-or as Ace called it-How the Rich Wealthy Fuckers Fucked the Poor People Through the Ages.

They had English, Biology, Algebra, and History for the first four periods, and then Ace had opted to take Chemistry-'the better to learn to burn things, my dear'-while Zoro had picked Weights and Home Ec.

"You get to eat shit in Home Ec. right?" he had asked of Ace, when they had picked their classes last year.

"You learn to cook." Ace had replied, rolling his eyes.

"Same thing." He had replied and marked the spot on the card next to _Home Economics._

"It's the same boring shit over and over." Zoro complained to his freckled friend as they headed toward the lunch area. "I'd rather be on the streets than be here-we're not getting anything done."

"Well, what can we do?" Ace had replied amiably enough, reaching up and adjusting his battered orange hat.

"Skip." was the logical reply. Zoro, honestly, didn't have a problem with ditching to go get some Panda Express or something,

"No." Ace replied firmly, "We can't get into trouble until we actually have to. I hear Blackbeard has a little job for you later on in the week." He looked over and gave Zoro a measuring look, his eyebrow half-raised in an unspoken question.

"How'd you hear about that? But yeah, I have to go collect from this one bitch who hasn't paid yet..." Zoro sighed. It was a part of his duties as a member; if the boss told him to go get his money back, then he would go get it. Simple as that. It got a little dirty at times, but hey, this was no suburbia.

"Fun. Want company?", Ace asked, digging into his jeans pocket and pulling out his lighter, flicking it open and snapping the flame out. It was a habit he had had ever since Zoro had known him.

"Nah. I can handle it. Thanks though."

"If not, just call."

"Yeah."

Ace was a different unit then him, though he probably could do what Zoro did if he wanted to. But no, Ace D. Portgas specialized in all things flammable. Small things included burning down anything for insurance purposes and other financial tomfoolery.

The more sinister things that Zoro knew Ace did included arson. Though he had never asked if Ace had ever actually killed when he torched whatever building Blackbeard wanted him to torch. You never asked questions like that in Water 7. What every man-or woman-did in the shadows, under the cover of darkness was their own fucking business. No exceptions.

But for the record, he personally thought that no amount of washing would be able to wipe the blood from Ace's hands. But Zoro didn't hold it against him. It's the way things were.

They reached their spot, just a plain wall that they had marked as their own for the last three years now. The three skulls, two in profile, one a frontal, marked the wall. Blackbeard's unofficial cipher was spraypainted, along with the tag, across the otherwise unobtrusive wall.

Most of them were already there. Zoro could see Robin, Usopp, Franky, Chopper, Burgess, Auger, Paulie, Tileston, Marco, and several others. They were a colorful group, and Zoro felt a grin rise up on his face as he approached them, but the only thing they physically held in common was the conspicuous black bandana. They had all been at Robin's party last night, too, so there was a lot to talk about.

"Ace!" "Zoro!" Faces turned toward them and the pair was drawn in with back-clapping and hand-slapping, "Ace, you won't believe-" "Zoro, I heard-"

Tileston was the loudest though, "ACE! I HEARD YOU GOT INTO A LITTLE SCRAPE UP IN THE PARKING LOT?" he boomed. Tileston was one of the guys that always seemed to tag along with Franky; he's a bog guy, with muscles bigger than Usopp's body, and a quirky little ponytail that looked like a samurai's queue.

Ace laughed, pleased, "Yeah, you guys know who Sanji Blackleg is, right?" and the raven proceeded to give a detailed account on the little incident in the morning, complete with extravagant embellishments. Zoro noticed with amusement that in this version, Ace had whipped out his dick and pissed on the hood, and Sanji had peeled rubber to get away from the switchblade that Ace had taken out to carve his name on the door.

Zoro, sat down with his back to the wall, and listened as Ace finished his story, everybody was laughing, him included. And why not? It was a win for the Water 7s. They all knew it was a load of bullshit, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that they were here, telling it, having fun at the other's expense.

Ace made his way over to sit beside the green-haired man, "Isn't it true, Zoro?" They slapped fives and slammed their knuckles together, the old ritual.

Zoro nodded solemnly, "True shit, buddy."

Ace laughed, "If I'm lying, I'm dying-" he cut himself off as his eyes lit up like a little boy at Christmas time, "Say…lookie here, friends and neighbors!"

The group turned in the direction of the quad, following Ace's excited gaze. Across the quad, walking toward his own spot was none other than the group's current source of entertainment, Sanji Blackleg. On his arm, was Nami.

The group burst into shouts of laughter which made Sanji turn around and look angrily, but he continued to walk on, not heeding the bursts of mirth which he probably knew were about him. Neither did he hurry his pace or look around furtively for any sign of school authority, as was so often the case with other students and as his girlfriend was currently doing. Sanji Blackleg simply continued walking along, not even bothering to shoot them a second scathing glance, acting like they were so much dogshit on the sidewalk. Zoro had to admire him. It was an attitude not many had the balls to have.

Zoro watched him thoughtfully. He had never noticed Sanji Blackleg before, so he took his time studying the retreating figure. It was a wonder that they had never talked before now, even if it was just to throw a passing sneer, but there it was. Maybe he had never noticed the other man because he had been too wrapped up in his own trip or flying higher than a motherfucking zeppelin. But now, this year-Zoro was clean, he had given all that shit up for good. Both him and Ace. No more, they had said. No more.

It was definitely a commitment which yonder prince would never have to make. A pledge that Sanji Blackleg would never be even remotely close to ever undertaking. He was everything that they weren't. Tall and handsome; possessed of a cultivated suavity and shiny blonde hair which did wonders for the girls. Gym-trained muscles showed nicely beneath his no doubt Armani suit and his legs went all the way up to Canada and said hello to the whales. Rich as a motherfucker.

Sanji's girlfriend was another plus. Nami Mikan was a ten in everybody's humble opinions. The girl had tits which needed their own postal code and legs which didn't seem to have any purpose besides holding the guy in place. Her fiery orange-red hair just begged to be touched and caressed. And it was property of Sanji Blackleg. Lucky bastard.

Ace glanced over and saw the thoughtful expression on his friend's face, and seeing that he was watching the receding figure of the prince, smirked evilly, "Everybody wants a piece of that ass."

Zoro grunted, unimpressed with Ace's observation, "No shit, Sherlock. Hell, man-_I _want a piece of that ass right _now_. I mean, just _loo_k at that-", he was interrupted by Ace's wild laughter. "What?"

"Are you serious? You want a piece of Blackleg's ass?", Ace still laughing, looked incredulous.

"_What? _No! I was talking about Nami! What the hell are _you_ on?", Zoro said, looking scandalized that Ace had just thought he had been checking out another guy's ass. He _had_ been watching Sanji, but it definitely hadn't been his _ass_ that he was looking at.

"Don't lie, Zoro. You know his sweet butt is even more tasty than Nami Mikan's. You know you want it…", Ace sing-songed the last part, his eyes dancing mischievously.

"The hell I do." He laughed, more amused than anything, "If anything, the guy wants _me. _Look at him, he probably hasn't seen a real _man _before.", Zoro said, trying hard not to snicker, and keep his tone all serious.

"You fucking _wish._", Ace snorted, "Sanji Blackleg wouldn't show you his dick if he needed to piss on you to put the fire out. He'd rather go for…I don't know….someone fucking _hot _with black hair…freckles…" Burst of laughter from the motley crew around them

"Fuck that, Portgas.", Zoro snorted, "If that guy turns gay, then he'd go for the nice muscles, the six-pack-", he lifted up his shirt and pretended to feel his abs up, making sure Alvida saw him. He wanted to hit her up for a roll in the hay, maybe later on this week. She was more than a little egotistical, but that was okay, he was a little vain himself.

"No, I'm telling you Zoro. Sanji Blackleg would _never _go anywhere _near _you. The closest thing you'll ever get to touching that ass is maybe washing his car or mowing his lawn.", Ace preened himself, "Me…on the other hand, stand a much greater chance."

Zoro burst out laughing, "Sorry, Ace. I think the guy has an aversion to stupid, really ugly, firebugs."

They had been the center of attention for a while now, everybody was watching avidly, as if awaiting the punch line of a good joke. Robin looked particularly interested, her book was shut for once.

Ace sighed dramatically and gave a sorrowful shrug, "Oh well, I guess none of us will ever find that out. I mean, Mr. Silver Convertible is gonna let none of us Water 7s anywhere near his precious ass. I mean, not even you, Zoro, with your rep of bedding practically every woman in Water 7, could part that pair of pristine legs."

Usopp laughed, "What was that Ace?" Usopp was a junior and he had joined Blackbeard's gang a while back. Though he acted like a coward, and was relatively weak compared to heavyweights like Ace and Zoro and Marco, the long-nosed boy was also rather high up in the gang infrastructure. His talents lay elsewhere-he was the gang's sniper and one of the many hit men.

Zoro laughed."Why would I want to? He's a _guy_." And then because he sensed the challenge in Ace's words, "But if I_ really_ wanted to, I could fuck him, easy. I bet he's easier to get into then community college." He grinned cockily, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Several people wolf whistled. Franky smiled in a nasty way.

Ace's smile turned demonic, "I bet five hundred bucks you can't tap that."

What was the pain in his stomach? Was it a little acid digestion from the Pepsi he had drunken earlier, or was it the pressure from the barrel Ace was currently holding him over?

Zoro _knew _it had been the worst fucking idea in the world to wake up this morning.

He knew Ace wasn't just kidding. Ace was actually _serious._ It was something which at times made Zoro hate him, and at others, love him.

This was definitely one of those hate times.

Ace was waiting. His grin was wide and engaging, it would have melted any other girl's heart. All right, so he could either agree and gamble it all, or tell him that he was fucking crazy and back off. But the problem about the latter was that Zoro had never backed down in his life and he wasn't sure how to go about it.

But accepting was insanity. Zoro had no desire to fuck a man, no matter how sexy, and he actually had agreed with Ace, Sanji Blackleg would not so much as look at him as the bug on the sidewalk. Especially not after the parking lot incident.

But Zoro Roronoa backing out? Backing _down_? No fucking way. Later, after the dust had settled down, he would think back to this time, and Zoro sincerely believed that if Ace had bet him that he couldn't walk to the moon, he would have taken it just as stupidly, and just as foolhardily as he did right then.

But he was young, stupid, and feeling immortal. That was before, when he thought that everything that could have gone wrong, already had. Before he was in the hole and they handed him a shovel.

Zoro laughed in Ace's face with just the right touch of challenge and shot back, "Against what?"

This snappy remark elicited more than a few grins from the rest. They were being watched as eagerly as gladiators in the amphitheater. It was all fun and games. Until someone got hurt. Then it was fucking hilarious. Just like the tee said.

Ace thought about it for a while, then smiled wolfishly, "Against your bike." There were a few groans and exclamations of 'No way Zoro'll agree..' The twinkle in Ace's eyes were devilish lights. St. Elmo's fire.

_Fuck_, Zoro cursed, apart from his three treasures he kept secretively at home, his bike was the only thing of value that he possessed in the world. Certainly not as expensive as Sanji Blackleg's convertible, but still something that he cared about. But since he was in it, he was _in_ it. Goddamn it. All or fucking nothing baby.

"Why don't you just give me the five hundred now and save yourself future embarrassment?" Zoro asked, pretending to flick something off his shoulder. You couldn't just _do _it, you had do it with _style. _I mean, at least look good while you went down, blazing.

"Then it's agreed?" Ace demanded, grinning.

"Sure. If I manage to fuck Sanji Blackleg, you give me five hundred bucks. If I don't, you get my bike." Zoro shrugged casually, then smirked, "You sure you got five hundred bucks on you, Portgas? I don't think you even seen a hundred dollar bill…"

Ace laughed too, "I don't need five hundred 'coz this is one bet you're gonna lose, my friend. I always thought I looked sexier on a motorcycle. And, plus, you drive _horribly_. The city'll thank me-taking you off the streets."

"Don't write checks you can't cash." Zoro laughed, refusing to get riled up. Trying not to look like he was wondering how much bus fare cost. Because there was no way…that _that _was going to happen. He didn't even _want _to happen. Well, he _did_. Technically, so he wouldn't lose his bike, but not like _that. _

Oh, fuck. He was confusing _himself. _

"How you going to manage that one, bro?" Franky asked Zoro, getting up and sauntering over from where he had been watching the spectacle beside Robin. "Sorry, dude, but I'm with Portgas, there's no fucking way that that princess is going to let you anywhere near her ass..And you seriously gonna do it...with a _guy?" _

Zoro shrugged again. "It's five hundred bucks. All that for a little sex? I'm up for it." He paused and cocked a dangerous eyebrow as he remembered to add, "And if I catch you fucking with Robin, Franky, I'll rip your _fucking_ balls off, pulverize them in to a disgusting gruel, and _spoon feed _it to you. Capiche?"

"That sounds very OW, bro.", Franky cawed, flipping his electric blue hair up and styling it with one meaty hand. "We're not-"

"Look I'm not saying _don't _date her, but listen up: Break her heart, and I'll hunt you down and break every single bone in your fucking body. Understood?

Franky nodded, and looked nervously at the blue star tattoos on his forearms, "I get it, Zoro. No need to remind me…" He trailed off, "But anyway, enough about me bro! So how you gonna get anywhere near that?" and the burly, bright blue-haired guy jerked his thumb to the other side of the quad to where Sanji was socializing with his group of friends. No doubt talking about all the wonderful cruises they had taken over the summer. Light bubbly cocktails in Tahiti. Vintage champagne in Hawaii.

"I'll figure that one out later." Zoro answered vaguely. He supposed he might invite the Sanji over to a party and slip something into his soda that a high alcohol content and that would undermine the blond's ability to reason clearly. Then take him to a back bedroom…and then wham, he'd suddenly be five hundred dollars richer.

Just…try not to think about what constituted sex between two guys. Once, a long time ago, his girlfriend, Diana Doublefinger, had dragged him along to watch Brokeback Mountain with Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhall. She had been one of those girls who got off watching two guys go at it. Zoro would never understand it, though he guessed it was the same thing as guys liking girl on girl action. Brokeback Mountain had been…interesting to say the least. Not exactly his thing.

Ace meanwhile was leering in a way Zoro didn't much care for, "That's right. Fuck Sanji: five hundred dollars for you. Don't fuck Sanji: I'm going to take your bike to the graphics shop to get some flames racing up the sides of it. But!" He paused and rose one finger mischievously, "It has to be in…let's say around two months…before Thanksgiving break and I'm gonna need some proof."

Zoro tried not to look shocked, "Proof? What the fuck do you mean by that? You want me to bring back his left nut or something? Bottle up his jizz?" Laughter. Usopp winced.

"Well, otherwise we'll never know if you're telling the truth!" Ace protested. "You're one sneaky sonovabitch, Zoro. Um, it can be photos or videos….." He laughed, and shrugged his broad shoulders, as if to say, 'what know I?'

"Jesus Christ!" Zoro exclaimed, "Photos? Videos? How the fuck do I get those? What, am I gonna say, 'Hey Sanji, smile, I want a picture for my fucking scrapbook!'"?

"Idiot, just set up a camcorder somewhere where he can't see it and let it rip." Ace said, "but then again, I doubt you'll get that far, so don't worry about it." He smirked, the freckles on his face looking more than adorable when he had that badassery vibe projecting off of him like radiation. Zoro could make a silent bet that there was more than one girl around them that was nearly dripping just hearing Ace talk.

"Okay, I'll bring you back your goddamn proof." Zoro grumbled, mind aching at the immensity of the task that has just landed in his lap. Not just butt sex, but _videotaped _butt sex. The mind boggled. "But you and _only _you can watch it. I'm not letting anybody else look at a video of me butt-fucking some dude."

"Shit." Robin said, and slapped her thigh. There was a burst of laughter, and Zoro saw Franky lean in and whisper something in her ear, tucking her hair in behind her ear for her, as he whispered a little too closely. He'd have to watch that man. Franky was one of his closest friends, but he'd give his life for Robin.

"Who says you'll be doing the action?" Ace asked slyly, to general hilarity. Zoro made a face and shook his head, rolling his eyes. _He'd _be doing the action, or there _wasn't _going to be any action. That was as sure as Newton's Law of Gravity. Fucking he was familiar with, at least he'd be able to close his eyes and pretend that it was Hancock beneath him. The other way…not so much.

"Yeah, laugh while you can Portgas…just wait." Zoro answered, and looked across the quad where his future conquest stood, obliviously chatting pleasantly with a young woman with blonde hair, a shade even paler then his own, his arm was loosely looped around the waist of the red-head he had walked by with.

So unaware of the group of miscreants who stood across the area, gleefully potting his demise. Zoro felt a pang of sympathy, and immediately squashed it-that wouldn't do it all. Guy was a bastard. He had it coming. He turned to Ace, "So mid-November, you said?"

Ace nodded, "Yeah. We don't want to get bored here, do we? Why? Don't feel that's enough time?" he grinned, "You want to get to _know _him? Aww…Isn't that_ cute_!" He made a little heart shape with his hands and pretended to beat it against his chest. "I can just _see _myself at your guy's wedding! I'd be best man, and I'd pop out naked from the wedding cake and pole dance for the ladies!". The freckled rouge winked at Valentine.

Zoro grimaced, more at Ace's tone, then at the statement, "Nah. by November, that guy is going to be screaming my name. Guaranteed." Vague, unpleasant images invaded his mind. Maybe it wasn't too farfetched an idea to kill Ace?

Ace spat on his hand and held it out, his black eyes dancing victoriously, "Shake on it."

_Last opportunity to back out. _

_Take it. Get the hell out of this mess. There's no way I'll be able to fuck Sanji Blackleg. Get the hell out. _

_Fuck no. _

Zoro spat on his hand, and slapped it against his best friend's, the warm saliva mixed and created a slimy friction against their palms, but he felt no revulsion-the feeling was primal, and oddly comforting. It was Water 7 all the way, if that made any sense. This was it. There was no going back. Before the winter month of December approached, he would have had to laid Sanji Blackleg. If not, he'd be taking the city bus when he wanted to go somewhere.

It was nothing, it was just a stupid bet made between teenagers because they had nothing else to do with their hands, and it was too early in the day to jack off. It was _nothing._ So why the fuck did he feel like he just sold his soul to the devil for a ten-foot sold gold dick?

Zoro took another glance at the far off figure. Sanji was now laughing about something, and as Zoro watched, the blonde dipped down and gave his girlfriend a quick kiss.Quick, but moist. He could tell even from across the quad. Plenty of saliva and sex hormones there. If they're not doing the dirty together, then they soon will be.

_Fuck_, Zoro thought sourly, Not _only do I have to cross the abyss of a social level, I have to turn him _gay_. What's more, I have to steal him away from his girlfriend. His rich, white, hot girlfriend. I know I'm a stud, but I got limits. Limits ._Suddenly, the prospects seemed rather gloomy. More than gloomy. Fucking darker than darkness. Mentally, Zoro cursed Ace for getting him into this mess. And cursed himself for having such a competitive spirit. Cursed the world for good measure.

Zoro diverted his gaze from the blond man and looked for Ace, who had disappeared from his side. The freckled raven was now chatting with Usopp, and scratching his belly for the sole purpose of lifting up his t-shirt so that his ungodly six-pack was on show for the ladies. The guy knew how to do it, all right.

Just then the bell rang-a flat toneless buzz-signaling the end of the one free hour of the day. Zoro sighed, and got up, digging his crumpled schedule out of his front pocket to see what grueling period he had next. Home Economics, oh yeah. That meant that Ace was headed off to chemistry. That meant no fun.

Fuck.

"Yo, Ace, you want to walk me to class?" Zoro called over to Ace who was still deep in conversation with Usopp about something. As Zoro walked over he caught the words, "-bring the scope.." and immediately didn't want to know what they were planning. Usopp looked scared, but he seemed to be in agreement with Ace, and when Zoro called out Ace's name, the curly-haired man simply said bye to Ace and walked off with the rest of the dispersing group.

Ace turned towards him, "Sure. What you have next?" He managed to slap Valentine's ass as she walked past, purposely sliding past him in such a way to have her breasts make a passing introduction to every bump and dip of Ace's body. She let out a little moan, and turned to smirk over her shoulder at the black haired man as she walked off.

"Wow, Ace. How long's it been since you started noticing her. One day say hi, next week you're slapping her ass.", Zoro snorted, amused in spite of himself.

Ace held up a slip of paper in triumph, "Hey, I'm not the one who tucks my number in people's pockets."

"Yeah, and you really don't take every chance to feel yourself up in front of girls or lift your shirt up."

"I didn't know you watched me like that Zoro.". Ace smirked, cocking his head to the side, "Maybe this whole bet is right up your ally?"

"Maybe you're full of bullshit."

"Maybe. So what do you have next?", Ace asked, already punching in Valentine's number into his cell.

"Home Ec.…"

"Ah, that's right...get to learn all the housewife-y things. I should buy you a cute little apron."

"Fuck you." It was a response he had on autopilot when it came to Ace D. Portgas.

"You wish." Ace replied chirpily. Not at all mollified.

Zoro laughed and shook his head and they continued to walk along comfortably together to their next class. Sometimes Ace was stupid, other times he was as badass as a motherfucker. But always, Ace was _great. _That's why he was Blackbeard's prime arsonist.

Suddenly, Ace shot an elbow into Zoro's arm, "Hey, would you look yonder, young lad." He whispered, voice dropping into a bogus British accent as he motioned with his eyes up ahead.

It was Sanji Blackleg and his girlfriend. Of course. They were strolling leisurely along, ahead of them. Looking like they should be the cover picture of Vogue or of Better Homes and Gardens. They looked that perfect. And as Ace and Zoro watched, the couple stopped in front of a door, hugged, kissed, and then hugged again, before Nami left, presumably off in the direction of her class, and Sanji entered the room they had stopped in front of.

Ace was snickering, "She seriously walks him to class. Good luck getting your hands on that piece of ass."His grin widened, "I'm a poet, and don't know it."

Zoro wasn't bothered so much by the sight of them kissing, as the dawning premonition that Sanji had entered the classroom that looked suspiciously like it was the Home Ec. room. Which was to say…his next class.

That was not good. That was in fact, horrible. Zoro had planned on something like a one night stand with the blond. Classes together meant year long interactions. That meant after whatever happened between here and thanksgiving break. Repeat: not good.

It wasn't repercussions he was afraid of, he just didn't want to deal with that situation.

"Go get 'em Tiger!" Ace was gloating. He went off toward the science buildings cackling wildly.

"Prick..."Zoro hissed between his teeth, immediately taking back any and all positive thoughts he had ever thought of Ace, and then he turned towards the plain blue door with the numbers 409 written cleanly upon it, took a deep breath and opened it.

~0~

It was a rather large classroom with large blue tables grouped in the middle that could seat up to five people. Around the walls, were sinks and cabinets, and Zoro could see a separate room that looked like a kitchen off to one side. A typical Home Economics classroom. Zoro had a vague certainty that the waiting room to hell would have looked exactly the same.

As soon as he walked in, he heard his name called out, and turning, saw three of his friends sitting at one of the tables, the farthest from the teacher's desk. Gang members tended to gravitate to the back of the classroom because teachers almost always got nervous whenever they were too close, and then tended to get their backs up by handing out detentions and suspensions as a way of cutting off any defiance early. Unfair, but there it was. Amazing what analyses he could immediately deduce just from where people chose to sit in the room.

Luffy, Brooke, and Kohza waved to him to come sit with them, and Zoro nodded and waved back. He took a glance around to see where Sanji had chosen to sit, and saw that he was sitting with two blonde girls a couple of tables ahead of Luffy's table.

Zoro supposed he should go sit near Sanji so as to start to get to know him, so he could get this bet over and done with, but his mind balked at the thought of just plopping down beside him and starting to talk to him. Zoro shuddered and made his way over to his friends. Maybe later.

He wasn't surprised to see Luffy here. Luffy would have taken Home Ec. for all six periods if he could, so he could get a chance to eat something all day. Same thing with Brooke. And Kohza was probably here only because it was an easy class.

Water 7s usually opted for the easiest courses. Not because they were dumb or because they didn't care, but because they knew that they were going to be stuck in Water 7 their whole life, toiling at menial jobs, and they didn't see why they should waste their time at the advanced courses if they would never use them. It was a cynical view, but one that was realistic. The idea of college was laughable.

Water 7 was a burden chained to the shoulders of whoever was unfortunate enough to be born there. If it wasn't ailing parents that needed your help or little brothers or sisters that needed your support and forced you to stay nearby and work for them; then it was the gang that you joined in your misspent youth, reminding you that when you joined, you joined for life.

Exceptions were when your knowledge furthered the gang's own edge. Which was why Ace was taking chemistry. Or why Chopper was taking the advanced science classes so he could get into medical school. Blackbeard might even let the kid go, Zoro thought, if only because the small guy would come back with the ability to treat the gang members that got roughed up and couldn't go to the hospital, either because they were wanted men, or because they had no money. Zoro liked Chopper a great deal, he was a small kid that stuck out like a sore thumb, but he had his heart in the right place, and he had guts. That was more than could be said for most people.

Water 7 was a burden, but at the same time it wasn't. Crazy ass fool as that sounded. Water 7 was his home, _their _home. And nothing could have made him hate it.

Luffy D. Monkey was Ace's little brother, and Zoro liked him a lot. He was a fun kid. And Zoro sometimes wished that Luffy would join Blackbeard's gang so they could have those kinds of adventures together, but Luffy was adamant, and so was Ace. Luffy has refused, when he had been approached, saying something about not wanting to ride to fame on someone else's coattails. Luffy could be pretty smart when he wanted to.

Ace, too, had been adamant that Luffy not join. Ace was a little overprotective of his little brother. Ace wanted Luffy to get out of Water 7 and make something of himself. Luffy wanted to be a pirate off the coast of Somalia. Luffy wanted to a type of Robin Hood on the high seas. Ace laughed at this, but he managed to get Luffy into a few advanced classes, and Ace had practically given the apartment they lived in to Luffy. Ace was strict about that-no drugs, booze, or weapons in his apartment- so as not to incriminate Luffy in anyway.

Luffy was probably the only kid in the school that was on good terms with the Water 7s and with the residents in Enies Lobby. His magnetic charm seemed to attract damn near everybody, and Zoro had to admit-he was a damn cool kid.

""Hey Zoro!" Luffy chirped as soon as Zoro sat down next to him, "I didn't know you were taking this class."

"Hey Luffy, yeah I am.", he leaned back in his chair and snatched another look at Sanji.

"Oh, Zoro, that's good that you're here." Kohza said, "I was afraid it was going to be just me and Brooke against everybody."

"Everybody?" He cocked his eyebrow; this sounded interesting.

"Yeah." And Kohza flicked his eyes to the left and then to the right, "Krieg's guys…and Arlong's freaks over there."

Zoro turned casually and saw Gin, Pearl, and two other of Kreig's gang seated at one of the blue tables. Their bandanas were yellow, and decorated with an hourglass. Zoro sneered openly, not giving a fuck about the ball-ripping looks he received in return. "Idiots..." he muttered.

Krieg was another leader in the dark hierarchy of Water 7 who was rather infamous. He had been a backstage kind of character until now, but lately Krieg had been getting a little too big in the head and had been trying to usurp Blackbeard. Krieg dealt mostly in contraband weapons. Not just unregistered handguns, sawed-off shotguns and spring-clip devices, which was easy stuff, but the really heavy junk; semi-automatic weapons and artillery with unpronounceable German names. That shit.

On their right, were Hachi and three others of Arlong's gang. Arlong's men wore blue and decorated their bodies with sun tattoos. The gang was unique in that no one could join unless they were born to other gang members. And all gang members came from an island out in the Pacific; they had a strange appearance to say the least. Though he commanded fewer members than most gangs in Water 7, Arlong had risen to notoriety due to his ferocity and utter ruthlessness. He specialized in corruption in authority and bribery.

Brooke spoke up, "Yes, this is going to be an interesting class…Yohohohoho!" Zoro winced; Brooke had them most annoying laugh in the history of mankind. Brooke also came equipped with a huge afro and a tophat. Brooke was also of Blackbeard's gang.

Kohza sighed, "Yes, it is going to be rather excitement-filled, I'm afraid…"

Zoro nodded and took another glance at the blonde in front, he was still chatting with the two blonde girls; if he had noticed Zoro come in, he gave no sign.

Just then the tardy bell rang-cutting across the talking in the classroom and the students quieted expectantly, waiting for the teacher to get up and introduce themselves.

Zoro waited just as expectantly as the rest, he always had to establish some kind of boundary lines with the teacher-he had to see how far they could be pushed and they had to see how much strength they had to push back. But it wasn't like he was out to make trouble, that wasn't his style. If they left him alone, then he left them alone. Simple and clean.

The teacher got up and strolled over to the front of the room. He was wearing a long, black cape that covered half of his body, a loose white shirt, and a pair of battered shorts with sandals. His hair was semi-long and a dark, red-almost auburn- and his skin was deeply tanned. But what stuck out was the long scar that cut across half his face, through his eye. The room was hushed as everybody stared at it. The guy simply stared back candidly enough

Zoro leaned over to Kohza, and murmured, "Looks like you."

Kohza just chuckled and shook his head.

In a cheerful voice that belied his harsh appearance, the teacher suddenly chirped out, "Hello everybody! We're all here, I presume? Well, this is Home Economics as I'm sure you know, unless you're some kind of idiot…Well, my name is Mr. Akammi, but that sounds too stiff to me, so you can call me Shanks, _if you dare..._I know some of your faces already, let's see…Hey there Luffy!" At this point Mr. Akammi waved at the raven sitting by Zoro. Luffy was already pumping his hand in the air, an ecstatic smile on his face.

The guy resumed, "So I see you've gotten all comfortable, and that's all right. You can sit where you want as long as you don't cause any trouble. So Home Ec., huh? Well, I'll be teaching you to cook and all that kind of stuff…We'll start tomorrow, and today we'll use the period to get to know each other. So any questions you want to ask me?"

Zoro grinned openly at the teacher, liking him immediately, _this dude is off his rocker_, he thought. Luffy raised his hand, "When do we get to cook meat?"

Shanks shrugged, "The school likes it if we start with small stuff like cookies. But I'll see what we can do. But basically we'll be cooking my favorite foods so I can eat them." This caused a ripple of laughter to run through the classroom. "I have a hangover, so that's enough questions for today. You can talk amongst yourselves for the rest of the period." And with that, the red-haired teacher made his way back to his desk and promptly fell asleep.

"Reminds me of your brother, Luffy." Brooke said, and Zoro laughed and nodded agreement. Ace was notorious for falling asleep at all hours.

"Why does he wear that huge cape?" Kohza asked curious.

"He doesn't have an arm." Luffy said, and Zoro glanced over at him, surprised.

"Why? What happened?"

But Luffy shook his head and wouldn't answer.

The rest of the period passed by uneventfully; Zoro, Brooke, Kohza, and Luffy chatted about their schedule and their summer until the bell rang. As they were filing out, Zoro chanced another glance at Sanji and was surprised to see that the blonde was staring at him as well. When Zoro turned around, his eyes narrowed and he looked away angrily. Zoro thought about it and then decided that he could put it off for another day. It was too soon to start that shit up.

Let Sanji Blackleg simmer in his own juices for a while; he, Zoro, was going to have some fun today.

~0~

**Revised Chapter Three~ Thank you for reading and Reviewing!**


	4. Thanks for Nothing

Chapter Four

Don't Act Like We're the Same

I'll never take part in the growing population  
Or waste my time with further education  
Forget what we know, it's just a big show  
What they want to control  
So jaded, frustrated  
It's all so complicated  
Fashion, no passion surrounds me

All I know is I've heard this all before  
Reality's a bore  
You ask me to believe in something fake,  
well I can't bring myself to do  
what you want me to  
This is who we are and  
nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change

I can't take part in the business man illusion,  
I'll take my chance in the real world confusion  
Don't blame us, who do we trust when they're so dishonest  
No patience, this nation's obsessed with exploitation  
Lying, denying surrounds me

Don't think you can ignore us  
Don't tell me that we're to blame  
Don't pick our future for us  
Or act like we're the same

_-Sum 41 "Thanks for Nothing"_

~0~

It had been a week or so since the whole 'let's fuck with Sanji Blackleg' thing. Literally.

Zoro supposed that he should trying to talk with the blond, but he kept putting it off, and putting it off. He really didn't want to do this shit. But, hell, he had gotten himself into it. Might as well do it.

It seemed like word of his and Ace's little wager had spread the rounds; everyone thought it was the epitome of hilarity and all around good fun. The Water 7s loved the very idea, they had too long been ground underneath the aristocratic heel of the higher ups,

The wolves had finally dragged down one of the gentlemen's proud mastiffs, and their fangs were poised above the jugular. Sanji Blackleg had more of a chance of having a Water 7 defend him, then Zoro had of walking to the sun. Not even one of the other gang members from a rivaling faction would let the jackal out of the bag this time. Not when Enies Lobby was involved.

No one seemed to give a fuck that it was going to be man on man action, if anything, it seemed even more hilarious to the Water 7s, who considered it to be the cherry on top of the whole shitty business. Use him, betray him, and then throw him in the dirt where he belonged. That was the most common train of thought for most.

The bloody enthusiasm that his kind showed for the dirty trick was overwhelming to the point that Zoro was actually beginning to believe that he could actually do this. He could actually fuck Sanji Blackleg. It was like a private revelation.

So the next time he found himself in the Home Ec. class he shared with Sanji, he found himself realizing that he meant to do it, by Jove. He was going to do it _now. _And even if he had hundreds of silent spectators cheering him on, it still took all his strength and willpower to swallow the gagging reflex in his mouth, and follow the blond man out when the bell rang, signaling the end of fifth period.

"See you guys.", Zoro said a quick goodbye to his friends as they left, knowing grins on Kohza's and Brooke's faces, and chased after Sanji, who was currently walking out with the two blonde girls on either side. He reached out and quickly tapped him on one black clothed shoulder, half-expecting to have his fingers burned off for daring to touch something that was better than him in all the fundamental ways possible. Sanji's sleek head turned, and Zoro found himself pinned with eyes which looked as blue as that blue glass cleaner. They were that unreal.

"Uh…I need to talk to you.", he said, scratching at the back of his head and trying look as un-intimidating as he could. It was best to not scare away the young, innocent lambs. And Zoro had the ridiculous urge to pretend to scratch his chest so that Sanji could see his abs, just like Ace did. It worked for girls, but did guys get turned on by the same things? Even if they were straight? Questions, questions!

Sanji was looking at him like he had just offered to sell him some ecstasy. "About what?" he asked, not rudely, but his tone was frigidly polite and clearly not interested. The blonde continued to move out the door, and Zoro found himself following him. A clear surge of annoyance rose up too. Oh man, was he going to enjoy dragging this princess through the leech-infested dirt.

"About what happened that morning in the parking lot with Ace." Zoro blurted out. _Oh, real smooth. _He hadn't really thought about _what_ he was going to say when he approached Sanji. He had always been more of a one to follow his instincts and ad-lib it. But maybe, for once in his life he should have prepared. This was just making him look like an idiot.

Sanji stopped abruptly, his whole body stiffening as if he had just been strapped down in Old Sparky and electrocuted. He turned to the girls with him, and said sweetly, "Conis, Kaya, I'm sorry, but can you go on without me? I have to deal with this."

They nodded agreement, clearly puzzled, and left, shooting scared glances at Zoro as they went. Zoro didn't mind, he was used to it. And anyway, he didn't like girls who were scared of their own shadows, even if they had a 'good heart' and a 'kind spirit'. He liked them to be _fighters_, girls who drew a little blood when things got sweaty, he liked sex with them to be a violent, breathtaking struggle. Robin could eat these girls alive. Lick her fingers, and ask for more.

When Conis and Kaya were out of earshot, Sanji turned back to Zoro, and said, again in that politely disinterested voice, "I was _there_ that morning-I _know _what happened-you don't have to tell me." People all around them were throwing them looks of interest. Zoro guessed that they were thinking that a fight was right about to go down. Idiots.

"Well, I wanted to say I'm sorry about that." Zoro said, he thought that the best way to get on Sanji's good side was to start off with an apology. He would never get anywhere if he didn't broach the subject eventually. It was hard to deny that he had been there at the scene of the crime.

He saw Sanji's eyebrow-it was curly!-raise, and his eyes-his one _visible_ eye!-widen ever so slightly in disbelief. "Oh.." he murmured, Zoro could see that his apology had not been expected and it had thrown the guy off balance. Up close, Sanji Blackleg was even more handsome than he had expected. The Prince wasn't adorable in the big boy sense like Ace, or in his own hot badass way. Sanji was rugged, yet formal. Looking like he could kick ass and play chess at the same time. It was hard to explain.

Sanji coughed nervously, and when an awkward silence ensued, said, "Well, I don't see why you're apologizing. If anyone should apologize, then it should be your… _friend_." Sanji paused and then added in an undertone, "Or me…" Sanji still looked dazed, and his eyes were glued to Zoro's face, as if unbelieving of something.

It seemed that as soon as Sanji had realized that Zoro wasn't going to try to fuck with him or steal his shoes, he had visibly relaxed. He hadn't even adopted that half-contemptuous, half-scared tone that made Zoro want to kill something. Sanji Blackleg was decidedly normal, talking and listening to him as if they were equals, as if he really wasn't wondering whether Zoro had smoked pot in the last half hour.

_What the hell? You're not supposed to be like this. You're supposed to be…not like this!_

"You?" Zoro asked, confused. Hell, he _felt_ confused. Sanji Blackleg was supposed to be a spoiled brat who had had his ass wiped for him with golden toilet paper for his entire life and his meals handed to him in bed on a silver platter. But the guy Zoro found himself talking too was just a regular guy. It was without a doubt the weirdest curveball that life had decided to throw at him up to date.

Sanji shifted his weight to his other foot uneasily, and Zoro realized with growing wonder that the blonde was slightly ashamed, "Well, yeah…." He said slowly, "I almost hit you guys with my car…"

"That was an accident." Zoro said quickly, giving Sanji an excuse and at the same time hoping to win points with the blond by covering up for him. But to Zoro's growing bewilderment he saw Sanji shake his head, reluctantly but firmly. What the hell was up with this entire fucking thing? The way this conversation was going, Zoro half-expected Sanji to suddenly reveal that he was, in truth, a secret undercover gangster.

"No. I shouldn't have been driving so recklessly….I don't see why I was then…I'm usually a more careful driver…", Sanji glanced quickly up at Zoro as though he wanted to reassure the other of this fact.

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Zoro said soothingly, "You just had a bad moment. It happens to the best of us." He could be one silver-tongued bastard when he wanted to be. And the moment called for it. What he needed to do was just forget about what Sanji Blackleg was or was not supposed to be. It would just confuse the shit out of him.

Sanji sighed and shrugged, "Well, thanks for talking about it with me, I guess." He trailed off, and the awkward silence which spilled into the void between them was as suffocating as a pillow over his mouth as he slept.

Zoro nodded and cast around for something to say. "So what a crazy guy huh?" he finally said, sounding stupid. Knowing he was sounding stupid to his own ears. This was getting more and more awkward as they went to. So awkward, it _hurt. _Previous assumptions that he actually was going to win this bet, were deflating like old sacs.

"Who, Ace? Yeah, what's up with him? He sounded like I killed his mother. I really didn't mean to hit him.", Sanji said, a little flare of anger in his words, though the flash of emotion immediately disappeared. Sanji was trying to be polite.

Zoro blinked, he hadn't been talking Ace, he'd been talking about Shanks who had walked in drinking a Miller Light that day, but oh well, "Ace? Well, he's just-he doesn't like Enies Lobby-the people who live there." What an awkward thing to say, Zoro would have facepalmed if that wouldn't have seemed even more weird.

"Yeah-but still-", Sanji looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't want to put his own foot in his mouth.

Zoro tried to rescue the conversation, "No, I was talking about the teacher though. Mr. Akammi? Shanks?" He had been one of those that had _dared_ to call him by the quirky name.

"Oh! Yeah!" Sanji laughed, his face lighting up, "He's like that. But he's a cool guy."

Zoro looked surprised, "You know him?" He had thought that Sanji would be coolly disgusted with the teacher, as used as he was to private home tutors no doubt. But that was the problem. He had thought. He had _thought._ He had _thought._ Had he been right in fucking anything?

"For a little more than a year now. I met him at the bar he runs with his wife. And we hit it off immediately; and actually I'm not a regular student in Home Ec. I'm the teacher's aid." Sanji said cheerfully.

"Oh. That's cool." Zoro lied, remembering all the pranks he and his had played on all the unfortunate teacher's aids throughout the years, "So, uh, why did you want to be his aid?" He found It surprising that this was the most scholarly sounding conversation he had had in scholarly sounding conversation he had had in _years_.

Sanji laughed, "Hey, we're gonna be late if we don't get a move on. Where's your next class? I'll tell you on the way if it's next to mine." The guy was looking at him with a cheerfulness that Zoro was definitely not feeling.

Zoro dug out his crumpled schedule for the sixth time that day, "Um, I have Weights."

"Perfect." Sanji said, "I have track so they're next to each other." He set off with a 'come on' glance at Zoro.

Zoro shook his head, bewildered, and started after the blonde. He can almost hear Ace somewhere, laughing wildly, '_Awww…Isn't that just adorable? You're walking him to class! Why don't you carry his books for him? Why don't you hold hands?' _

_Get the hell out of my head Portgas. I fucking swear, I carry you around everywhere I go. _

"Yeah, Shanks is pretty tight." Sanji was saying, "So when he asked me to aid for him, I agreed, 'cuz I knew it'd be fun and anyways, I needed a sixth class."

"Suck-up.", Zoro snickered, and immediately gave himself an internal slap. He was supposed to be nice, helpful, _loving. _Not trying to _joke _around with the guy, like they were best buds.

But Sanji just snickered back, much to Zoro's relief, who had seriously expected him to puff up in a cloud of righteous prickery and screech at him.

"Hey, there's a lot of hot girls in that class, dude. I'm up to my neck in boobs.", Sanji moved his hand in a sideways motion in front of his throat to demonstrate. "It's paradise."

"Heh. Act like that and you won't be getting _any._"_,_ Zoro said, looking down his nose at the grinning blond, "Women are fucking jealous."

"I think I know the ways of women more now, than you _ever _will, bas-", Sanji cut himself off abruptly, "Dude.", he finished.

_Was he right about to call me a bastard? _Zoro wondered, flabbergasted. Another thing on the list that 'rich, handsome boys shouldn't do' was swearing. No, Sanji probably had right about to call him a buffoon or a baboon. Or a…what else started with a B?

"Oh yeah, what? I'm willing to bet you haven't gotten any in this last past month.", Zoro said, putting the momentary confusion at the back of his mind, and throwing back the ball of snarky conversation back. It was almost like flirting man-style. At least, he was on the right track. Hell, at least it was easy to do.

"Screw you. Nami's like slipping into the sweetest wine in the world.", Sanji's eyes suddenly turn dreamy, and Zoro fights the urge to roll his eyes and shake that stupid, love struck look from off the guy's face. It's not just Sanji, it's just he doesn't like that look on _anybody's _face. It's too…_annoying._

"She sure keeps your dick in a jar.", Zoro smirks, and mimes screwing said jar shut.

"Nami can do whatever she wants to with my dick.", is the dreamy answer. Zoro gives up, it is obvious that Sanji Blackleg's weakness has breasts, long hair, and painted nails.

It's fucking _scary _how at ease they are. Too _scary. _But, he has this weird feeling that they're holding back-being too polite. Keeping things generalized, because they're not comfortable with the other yet. It's how he felt when Ace had first been introduced to him. They were like alpha dogs, circling, throwing a bantering ball back and forth, the joking superficiality hiding the measuring glances they were throwing at each other.

But…how could he sense that vibe with Sanji Blackleg? It was a _Water 7 _thing. Sanji _should _be asking him if he had ever been to fucking _Paris. _

"So, Shanks wanted you to help him out and stuff? In class?", Zoro asks, returning to the original topic

"Yeah." Sanji said and then laughed, "Mostly because he's a selfish dick." And in response to Zoro's mystified look, "I'm a chef. So I'm really good at cooking. Shanks just wants me near and in a kitchen so he can get all his goodies firsthand."

"You're a cook?" Images of Sanji in a frilly French maid apron, a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other, immediately fill his head. He tries not to laugh, and ends up making up a weird nose noise. He immediately pretends to cough though. But Sanji is not deceived.

"_Chef_." Sanji snarls, " You can stop imagining me in a pink apron, dancing around the kitchen right about _now._ There's a lot more than that being a chef then being a _cook._"

"Oh. Then what do you cook?" Zoro asked, more and more fascinated by the guy. That feeling of getting_ to know each other _is back, stronger than ever. Hard to resist. Hard to plummet headfirst into liking this blond who was like nothing he had ever imagined. Hard.

"Um, a little bit of everything…Hey, there's your class." Sanji pointed at an approaching door. "I'll finish telling you in Home Ec. tomorrow. Yeah?", he stops suddenly, and the mood changes. They're back at being awkward again. It's like they took a detour out of reality, and now they're back. Zoro almost winces.

"Yeah…" He says, feeling confused. Everything has come down, making him feel slightly disoriented at the thoughts. It was too much. He made to open the Weights door to slip inside and so flee from the source of his confusion when Sanji suddenly spoke up, from behind him.

"Hey, um Zoro?" Awkward. Tense. Doubtful. Hopeful. Everything and nothing is said in those four syllables.

Zoro turned back, feeling another sense of dread creeping up on him, similar to the one that had loomed when Ace had proposed his little wager. "Yeah?" His knuckles tensed on the door handle, turning nearly white. Ninety-nine percent of him was screaming at him to run inside like a bitch and slam the door in Sanji's face; that he doesn't want to heat whatever the cook has to say.

Sanji was shifting from foot to foot again, looking a little nervous, "I'm really glad you came to talk to me. So many people think Water 7s are some different kind of species. " Sanji said slowly, "You know, so many people think you're some kind of rabid dog…But then I talked with you and you're…normal. Nicer than most actually." He coughed nervously, looking more than uncomfortable.

Sanji stuck out a hand abruptly, "Friends?" His voice sounded like a mixture between a threat and a snarl. It was pretty funny if you liked your humor served black and grisly with a side dish of betrayal.

Now Zoro knew what that sense of impending doom had foretold. He had never felt more like a piece of shit in his life. He forced a smile on his face and willed himself to take the offered hand. Zoro found himself surprised again as he felt the calluses on the hand in his, the rough scratchy surface, resplendent with nicks and cuts and burns and bumps. Like any other hand who had done hard work.

_It's not supposed to be like that. It should be soft and well cared for. His hands shouldn't be…_

_Like mine. _

They shook perfunctorily and Sanji's smile turned to a grin, "People would shit themselves if they saw this." And what sucked the most, was that it was sincere.

Zoro laughed at that-it _was_ pretty funny, and then offered a falsely cheerful "See you tomorrow!" before finally escaping into his classroom. Finally. Thank whatever-it-was that he finally could get away from the Sanji-that-was-not-supposed-to-be.

It was a full ten minutes later that Zoro realized that they hadn't even introduced themselves.

~0~

_Damn it. Damn it all to hell_. Zoro thought furiously. This was not the way this shit was supposed to go down. Sanji was supposed to be an asshole, a self-righteous prick. Zoro was then supposed to play a little prank on the princess that would result in his being five hundred dollars richer and would result in a certain furious _laid_ dickwad.

The more he thought about it, the more pissed he got. And the more confused. Mad at himself for being so stupid. Mad at Sanji just because. Mad at Ace. Mad at his long-dead parakeet who never existed. Confused as fuck.

What Sanji was _not_ supposed to be was a nice guy that wanted to be friends. _Friends_. Zoro gritted his teeth in confusion and concentration as he lifted his huge dumbbells. It made his little bet seem even more lowdown and dirty. It would have been all right if Sanji had been a magnanimous prick who sneered down his nose at the Water 7s, but Sanji had turned out to be a regular joe. Better than most.

It made him feel fucking _guilty_.

_Then don't do it!_ His mind hissed, _Don't do it. Tell Ace you were just kidding and the bet's off. That it was all shits and giggles for the first few days, but the novelty's worn off and what? Oh, he was _serious_? I couldn't even tell! Haha, that was a good one Ace!_

_Bullshit. _

_Then just say no!_

His challenger spirit winced, _Yeah, and everyone can have a good look at Zoro Roronoa backing down for the first time in his life. Yep, first row tickets. And I was so confidant, I acted like it was all in a day. Like I was king of the fucking world and my dick was ten feet tall. _

That decided him. After all, he had only known Sanji for, what, thirty minutes now? He wasn't going to back down from anything on the basis of such a small meeting.

_And anyways_, Zoro's mind tried to reassure himself_, Sanji probably just tries to look good for his first impression. He's probably just as spoiled and idiotic as the rest of the rich brats out there_.

_Bullshit. _

~0~

Sanji hummed as he changed into his track outfit in the locker room. Since he was on the track team, he had sixth period track so it would merge smoothly into his afterschool training. His track outfit was simply a pair of gym shorts and a plain white t-shirt.

Zoro Roronoa.

Sanji mused on him thoughtfully. He had not been the demon that he had expected. He didn't know _what_ he had expected, to tell the truth. But Sanji could have passed Zoro on the street without assuming that he was a violent gang member who had been labeled demonic by a frightened populace.

Zoro was tall, well-built, the kind that had to swim through a sea of breasts wherever he went. Sanji wasn't blind to the muscles hiding beneath the inconspicuous t-shirt. Every time Zoro moved, he could see the sinews and tendons, the veins popping out in his forearms. It made him want to fight the man. See who was stronger. _Better_. Heh. Why did that feeling feel so familiar, if he had never felt it before?

_Don't scare him off Sanji. He'll probably think that you're trying to one-up him. Or maybe even that you're some gangster trying to kill him. _

That made him laugh. Him? A bandana-carrying hooligan? Yeah fucking right.

_I'd look fucking sexy with a bandana though. I give myself that. _

Zoro sure looked kickass, motherfucking bad with his black bandanas and three earrings and leather jacket and black Harley. Sanji supposed he was of a handsome sort. Though his green hair was rather odd. But it seemed to fit him, strangely. _I'll have to ask him later where he gets the dye to color it that way_, Sanji thought, assuming that it had to be dyed, for how else could he have green hair?

Zoro Roronoa was the most interesting thing to ever happen to him. The guy was crazy. Sanji just got that vibe from off of him. It was fucking intriguing. He already couldn't wait to talk to the guy again; it was crazy how eerily they had adapted to each other.

One, two minutes and they were snickering and throwing jibes back and forth. Sanji loved it. No one he had ever met had been like this with him.

Coby was just too studious and too shy to ever say more than 'oh my goodness!'. Helmeppo just wanted to talk about his daddy and the girls were precious…but they were ladies. He couldn't befoul their ears with piratical language.

Sanji wanted to fight and wrestle and clash and banter with someone who understood what it actually was. Zoro was a fun guy. That was for fucking sure.

~0~

"Fucking finally!" muttered Zoro for the second time that day as the bell sounded out the end of the day. The long, confusing, torturous day. Yeah, Zoro liked his days to be filled with excitement so he wouldn't be too bored, but there was such a thing as_ too_ much excitement. Zoro had been standing next to the door for a quick exit, and as soon as the bell rang, he opened the door and strolled out. Hands itching to roll a blunt or something and just mellow out. Get everything back in order. Reestablish the universe. Classify the cosmos themselves. Forget about Sanji fucking Blackleg.

No. Not that shit again. He was clean.

Zoro almost made it to thirty steps out, clear sailing. A clear day on a priceless ocean, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum. Alcohol was still okay. He wasn't that much of an angel.

"Zoro!" a voice called out, and turning, Zoro beheld his sense of guilt striding over to him. _Fuck,_ his mind said tiredly. This day seemed to be going steadily downhill. If he didn't watch out then he would wind up dead by the end of it. Speak of the fucking devil. Why? _Why? _It was stuff like this which made him believe in the non-existence of a great celestial being somewhere Up There.

"Uh, hi…Sanji." Zoro said, he noticed that the blonde had changed his outfit and was now wearing what looked like a P.E uniform. _That's right…he has track sixth period_. He looked funny. It was too jock. Fr some weird reason, Zoro thought he'd look better in a mobster suit, with a bandana of his own.

_Yeah fucking right_.

"You look weird.", he said instead, bluntly.

"Am I seriously hearing this from a guy who dyes his hair neon-green?", Sanji said, looking dramatically flabbergasted.

"What? Dye? I like think of it as…", the name of the color escaped him. "Whatever, what the hell are you doing here? It's like I can't get rid of you." Zoro immediately regretted saying it. Sure, it was something he'd say without a thought to Ace, who could tell him that he fucked his mother with exactly zero offense taken; but Sanji-

He really should stop assuming.

"Hey, stick it up yours. I just saw you and thought it'd be nice to make you feel like you had friends. What's up? I'm heading to the W.C right now. Man, you're lucky you don't have track, it's like an extra hour of school.", Sanji fell into step with him

_Did he actually say 'W.C'?_ Zoro wondered, flabbergasted, he and Ace always 'took a shit.' "Oh, really?" was all he could manage. He wondered if Sanji 'masturbated' instead of 'busting a nut'. Woah, _not _something he wanted to think about.

"Damn, sometimes this shi-_stuff_ gets annoying." Sanji sighed, scratching at his blond hair.

"Then why do you take it idiot? Stop bitching about it." Zoro asked, in an annoyed voice, and then mentally cursed himself-_No! You're supposed to be nice! Nice!_

But Sanji didn't seem mad, on the contrary, the blonde's face split into a wide grin, "Yeah, I know right?"He chuckled thoughtfully to himself.

Zoro glanced over at him, _this guy makes no sense at all_, he thought, and then asked peevishly, "What's so funny?" Something inside of him, something rooted deep inside his very being, just wanted to snatch hold of the guy and pummel him for being something that he didn't understand. His hands twitched.

Sanji shook his head, his laughter tapering down to quiet snorts, and seemed to pause shyly before he answered, "Well, it's just that…" He laughed again and shook his head, "Nah, forget it. It doesn't matter, it's just something funny,"

Zoro tensed, feeling the recurrent sense of doom returning. _Shit, is there a dark cloud following me around or something?_ He inwardly groaned. "Spit it out already!" he grated. _Be nice!_ His mind moaned. But his mind was something that sometimes didn't exactly correlate with what came out of his mouth. It was a fact he knew well, and one which had gotten him into countless fights.

But again Sanji did not seem perturbed at his rudeness. In fact, the blonde seemed to be comforted by it. He snickered again, "It's just that..." he began again, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way or anything but…" Sanji said slowly, stifling his laughter, "Sorry, it just sounds so weird, like I'm right about to confess my love for you or something equally weird.", and then in a rush. "This is the first time that I've talked to someone like this. " And immediately, "Shit-this sounds creepy."

"Oh. Sorry then." Zoro said, feeling more and more muddled. _Did I say something wrong?_ What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

Sanji seemed shocked, "No! Don't apologize! I didn't mean it like that! I meant…" he trailed off and seemed to be struggling to convey his feelings."Shit. I don't even know anymore."

"You're stupid.", Zoro helpfully put in.

"_You're_ the idiot here."

"At least I know where the fuck I stand." Which if that wasn't a lie, then he didn't know what was.

"You're too thick to understand, retard. What I'm trying to say is-"

"Yes?"

"What I'm trying to say, you understand is, that-"

"_Yes?" _

"It's basically this-"

Meanwhile Zoro had had enough. This was just too goddamn weird and confusing. It might lose him his bet but Zoro was far from caring anymore. He wanted out. Goddamn it, _out_. Things were just too fucking hinky. He had enough. Repeat-_enough_.

"_What the fuck are you talking about, you shitty prick? You're confusing the shit out of me_!" Ahhh, sweet relief. How come it felt to so good to yell at this blond bastard, who really wasn't a bastard? It felt like all of home. It felt better than anything. Why? He didn't know.

Zoro fully expected Sanji to walk off in a huff, finally displaying his rich kid attitude. But he was wrong, as it seemed he always was when it came to Sanji fucking Blackleg. His eyes widened as Sanji whirled on him and yelled back, "I don't know what the fuck I'm saying, you asshole! But you're not helping here stupid…stupid moss-head!"

This was complemented by a savage kick to his head which he barely avoided by yanking his head backwards, but it had been so close that Zoro had felt the wind on his cheek. If he had been an inch closer, his cheek would have been sliced open with the cleats.

_Did he just say 'fuck'?_ his mind clamored. _And 'asshole'_? _And what's with the kicks?_

"Well fuck you!" Zoro yelled and swung with his right, meaning to smash the blonde's face in, and hopefully break his nose in the process. God, fighting. _Fighting_. _Yes. _This was what felt _right. _

Not many could have avoided that punch, Zoro was lightning-quick, but Sanji seemed to draw back with ease, and at the same time managed to shoot out one of his long legs and connect with Zoro's rock-hard midriff. And Sanji still had wind to scream, "Fuck you too shitty fucking asshole! And what the fuck is your problem?"

It was the first time in a long time that anyone had gotten a shot at him. Zoro let out a muffled grunt and grimaced in pain. Yes_, pain._ That kick had hurt more than he wanted to admit. _He has quite the mouth on him…_he thought, amused in spite of the pain. _If all Enies Lobbeys talked like that, then we'd get along just fine…_

_He wasn't supposed to be like this. _

It even felt useless to think that anymore.

Zoro faked a left, and when Sanji raised his right leg to block, swung with his right and smashed the side of the blonde's face, though that caused an inward pang of regret which was immediately silenced by a victorious surge which was oddly primal. Deeper than lust.

Sanji reeled to the side and then spat out a mouthful of saliva and blood on the floor. Zoro was impressed. He had seen older and tougher-looking customers fall to the floor with a round-house blow like that. It hadn't seemed to effect Sanji as much. What the hell?

Zoro noted that a large circle of onlookers had gathered, cheering lustily. It wouldn't be long before some form of security showed up. So much for not getting in trouble until he absolutely had to. One week in and god damn he was drawing blood. He even had the gall to be sneakingly proud.

But the possibility of punishment seemed far away and remote to Zoro's mind at the moment. For the first time in a long while, he had encountered someone that offered much more of a competition than the ordinary weakling. Zoro couldn't wait to see if he could take down this whirling mass of kicks. His competitive spirit-the same spirit which had risen to Ace's challenge-soared and Zoro felt exhilarated-more _alive_, more _there_. Damn it, he loved to fight. And somehow, the fact that his opponent was rather confusing…made it more…exciting. Who was this guy? Who was he really?

Something else piqued his curiosity, "Why don't you use your hands?" Zoro asked, honestly curious.

"What?" Sanji said, caught in the act of raising one of his long legs and lashing out again.

"Yeah, why're you using only your legs?" Zoro had lived in Water 7 all his life, had seen millions of fights, been in millions of fights, and had seen his fair share of deaths. He had seen karate, Kendo, Tai Kwan Do, but this was the first, _first_ time he'd seen this. Exciting.

Sanji seemed absurdly pleased that the green-haired man had noticed and had been curious enough to comment on his strange fighting style."My legs are more than enough to handle you, mother_fucker." _He laughed, and though his words were harsh, the blond seemed to throw them out with a playful air. Sanji then lashed out again with his right leg, aiming for Zoro's neck. How the hell he managed to throw himself like that was a mystery. The guy seemed to deny gravity.

"Hmm…I haven't fucked mine, but yours sure screamed loud." Zoro taunted back, with the same playfulness Sanji had exhibited, at the same time blocking the kick with his forearm, drawing his teeth in sharply at the flower of pain which exploded there. That would leave a bruise.

Again Sanji surprised him, instead of recoiling from the vulgarity, the blonde laughed, genuinely amused at the raunchiness. "If fucking my mother is what comprises your sex life, then I feel sorry for you, dude." Another lashing kick. Another jarring impact which seemed to reverberate the very skull in his head.

"Well, she came on to me, I had to put her out of her misery." And then returning to the original topic that was highly interesting, "But using only your legs had disadvantages, you can only use one foot at a time, you're never going to get anywhere in fight if you can hit only once at a time." Yeah, okay, call him a geek, but he liked fights, and liked to analyze them, categorize the moves, classify the fighters. It was second-nature baby.

Sanji stopped in mid-kick, and slowly lowered his foot to the ground. He looked thoughtfully at Zoro and slowly, grin of pure evil surfaced on the blond's face. He looked absolutely canine. And again, that fleeting thought passed through Zoro's mind-_Water 7, born and fucking bred. _

"What?" Zoro asked, cautiously, all his senses screaming at him that something was definitely up. The ogling rubberneckers also sensed the shift in atmosphere; they stilled expectantly. Zoro could see a few of his fellow gang members in the crowd, but he wasn't worried-they wouldn't interfere without being asked. Zoro turned apprehensively back to his opponent_. Wouldn't be surprised if he turned into a werewolf or something, or his legs caught fire._

When the hell would he throw out all his reservations out the window when it came to Sanji Blackleg?

Zoro's jaw dropped as he watched Sanji flip into a handstand, as dexterous as an acrobat, and stick his long legs into the air. It looked ridiculous. And it reminded so much of _himself_ when he fought with three, that it was dizzying. Was that Sanji or was that a mirror and this a dream? A trip? Now both of Sanji's weapons were free and ready to wreak havoc. But Zoro still stood there, gaping at the blond man, he could sense the crowd around him doing the same.

Sanji had no such paralysis- he flipped lithely again, landing on his hands again, and this time right in front of Zoro. In reach of his lethally long range of attack. Zoro felt the whirling appendages slash forward, and he leaped backward, avoiding a kick that would have broken his nose, but receiving the full impact of a hard shoe slamming into his shoulder.

"Fuck!" he hissed, _that's going to leave a bruise_. Zoro had barely enough time to block another kick before he had to leap to the side to avoid another attacking leg. But far from feeling angry or scared, Zoro felt that wave of exhilaration sweep through him again. He hadn't had this much fun since he had dueled with Kuina, all those years ago.

_Fun! This is fun! _A little boy's impish delight.

Zoro managed to slam into Sanji's side with his fist, causing the blonde to topple from his precarious position and tumble to the grassy floor. Before the blonde could regain his stance and so bring in his legs into combat, Zoro leaped on him, struggling to pin Sanji to the floor. This was easier said then done. Sanji, sensing that Zoro was attempting to place a submission hold on him, struggled like a wildcat. "Arghh! Get the fuck off me!" he yelled.

Zoro was heavy and Sanji was having trouble shifting that mass of muscle, he kept shifting and writhing like a snake underneath Zoro, spewing the most disgusting vulgarities Zoro had ever heard all the while as the green-haired man tried to subdue him by pinning his torso and hips down with his knees.

"Goddamn you-"

"Fucker-"

_Just fucking give up idiot! _

_No fucking way!_

Zoro grinned as Sanji suggested a place to stick his bandana in, meanwhile unsuccessfully trying to shake free. Zoro, panting hard as he tried to keep the demon down, chanced a glance at the blonde's face, and noted with amusement that Sanji was pink with fury. Guy looked mad enough to spit nails and piss cement.

The blonde's mouth was open, panting for air, the sweat stood out on his face, his head was thrown back as he struggled to lift the weighty mass that was Zoro. Zoro could see the cords straining in his neck, and the muscles that stood out in his well-developed arms as the blond attempted to liberate himself, panting harshly and groaning from the pain all the while.

_Pretty sexy._

Oh _hell no._ He had not-he had not-just-oh _hell no._ NO! Brain overload, hormones on wack, that's what made him think that-_no. He wasn't going over that. _

Zoro felt the warm blood rush to his cheeks. _I am not blushing_, his mind moaned in horror. But he could feel his face burning and a soaring pulse beating methodically in his ears. When was the last time he had blushed? He couldn't even remember-fourth grade? Third grade?

But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight underneath. His mind clamored, _no-no-no-no-no_, a constant negation, not even coherent in his mind. The sight of the twisting blonde he had almost pinned immobile to the ground, it was…

It was one of the most goddamn erotic sights he had ever seen. And if the man could provoke such thoughts in him with all his clothes still on, what couldn't he do if he was bare-ass nak-

_NO-no-no-no-nononononononono-_

Zoro was thankfully saved from his own thoughts by the approaching shouts of school authority. For the first time in his life, he was glad of the arrival of a form of authority. He didn't even want to think right now. Nope. No thinking. No thinking of nothing.

He hurriedly scrambled off Sanji and dodged his first furious kick. It wouldn't look good for him if the first thing security saw was Zoro holding Sanji down. From now until they arrived, Zoro would simply dance out of the blonde's offensive. Though he doubted that would help much.

_Sanji looks like-Don't think about it. No-no-no!_

"Fucking moss-head…" Sanji spat, heedless of the imminent appearance of the authorities, and shot out a leg, meaning to slam Zoro's abdomen again.

Zoro laughed and dodged out of reach, "Pigs are coming." And thankfully felt that his blush was fading. Maybe it had just been the close contact that had elucidated it. Had Sanji noticed? Maybe it hadn't been there in the first place. Yeah, that was probably it. _Don't think about it. _

Sanji looked confused, "Pigs?" Zoro snorted laughter, momentarily snapped out of his thoughts, Sanji probably managing the pink-bellied farm produce. He was, without a fucking doubt, Enies Lobby material.

"What we call cops. You know? One-Eight-Seven on a motherfucking _cop_."

Now the blonde looked interested, if slightly irritated, "Why do you call them that?" His voice was casual, as though he and Zoro were discussing it over cups of coffee in the nearby café. At the same time, he slashed out with his leg again. Looks like someone wasn't too bright to stop fighting when the light fell on them.

Zoro chanced a peek at the school officials, who were running pell-mell toward them, shouting and waving their arms ridiculously, they'd be here in less than thirty seconds. He avoided the kick and replied, "Coz they're idiots with no sense of humanity and a warped sense of justice. They're like animals-like pigs. Haven't you ever read _Animal Farm_?"

Sanji looked annoyed, "Not every cop is corrupt. I know-"He never got to tell Zoro what he knew for then the school security arrived in a jumble, pushing away the spectators and seizing the two miscreants.

Zoro could have easily taken the gruff-looking man that was menacing him but he allowed the wannabe cop to roughly grab him and jerk him towards the direction of the main building-no doubt to have a little catching-up meeting with the head honcho. Oh joy.

Sure enough, the cop turned toward him and growled, "Just come quietly now and maybe you won't get more than a suspension. You're going to the principal's office."

He said it in such a way, as though he expected Zoro to fall back and tremble, or as they he had said-_You're going to have your innards cut out and then you'll be burned at the stake_- but either this cop was a rookie or he had no dealings with gang activities.

Zoro rolled his eyes and grunted laughter, "Sengoku? How's he been? How's his family? He tells me he has back problems lately…" Principal Sengoku was the main man at East Blue High. Zoro had known him since his ass had first been hauled into the administrator's office in freshmen year for having been in possession of a gram of China white.

Since then, Zoro believed he had been in Sengoku's office more than the rest of the school population put together-his file in the steel cabinet had grown steadily thicker now for three years. Zoro admired the forceful principal; he knew that Sengoku had a steel trap for a mind and was a master at manipulation. Sengoku could be more than a little devious-he had majored in military tactics and warfare at West Point. It said so right on the wall of his large office.

The other facts Zoro had picked up from the man himself. From their constant interaction the two men had grown accustomed to the other and had offered each other a grudging respect. If times and places had been different, they might have been friends.

Meanwhile the rookie cop glared at him and viciously propelled him forward, "Think you're such a smartass don't you?" he hissed, leaning close. Zoro grimaced away from him-the guy had a major case of bad body odor.

Mistaking his grimace for a shying away gesture-_yep, he was definitely a rookie_- the cop guffawed loudly and gave Zoro another shove.

"Fuck off." Zoro snarled, "Fucking police brutality here." He glanced back to see what had happened to Sanji and noted with wry amusement that he was being checked over by a paramedic and that another pig was listening to what Sanji was saying and nodding, scribbling it all down in a little notebook.

_Shit, I'm screwed now_…Who would they believe in the end, him or Sanji? The answer was obvious. No one would believe that it had been Sanji who had attacked him first. Even if there were a thousand eyewitnesses. No one would believe the words of a Water 7. After all, they had born to lie, steal, rape, and kill weren't they?

"No better than you deserve.", was the harsh reply, the cop looked around to make sure that they were out of earshot then hissed, "You're nothing but fucking trash from Water 7. Why can't you people just quietly smoke your weed and just stay inside your damn walls? All you shit do is cause trouble for us! Look at you, you have no life, no dream, you make me sick."

_Of course. Of course I do. _

Zoro saw red, his jaw clenched so tightly, the blood flowed from his lacerated gums and he balled his fists so tightly he felt the icepick of pain drill through him as his short nails cut semi-circular patterns into his calloused palms. "Listen, you fucker." He said thickly, not trusting himself to turn around and still keep his cool, "I'm only going to say this once, so shut the fuck up and listen carefully for once in your pathetic life."

He heard the _oomph _sound as the cop sucked in his breath in fear, and heard the faltering steps as the rookie hesitated to follow.

Zoro stopped too, his head staring straight ahead and his fists balled into tight fists at his side, trembling slightly, aching to turn the pig's leering face into a pulverized, red mass. "Don't try to judge us. You don't know what the fuck I've been through. What _we've_ been through. What _Water 7_ has been through. You don't know fuck-all about how life is for us." He had to take a breath.

"You drive around in a nice shiny car to match your goddamn shiny tin badge on your chest and you stick a couple kids who were stealing food for their families or selling coke so they could pay their apartment's rent that month in the holding cells down at Impel Down County Correctional. Then you go home, hang up your big, bad police-issued revolver, and sit down at a nice hearty meal cooked by your wife, and tell your family how brave you were that day. And then the next day, you turn the other way if it's an Enies Lobby kid with dilated pupils or that sickly-sweet smell of pot hanging around them. Because there must be an explanation for that shit, right? And then you tell me that _I_ make _you_ sick?"

Zoro finally allowed himself to turn around and gaze with contempt at the frightened rookie, "No. It's _you_ who makes _me_ sick."

~0~

Sanji watched with baffled anger as Zoro was taken away by someone who looked like they hadn't brushed their teeth in days.

He didn't remember being this pissed in years.

"You don't understand." He said through gritted teeth to the police officer that was questioning him.

"He didn't attack me. I attacked him."

"Hm-hm. Mr. Blackleg…_Sanji,_ please understand that we won't tell Zoro Roronoa about the extent of your accusation against him. Don't be frightened to tell the truth." The cop spoke soothingly.

"I am telling the truth!" Sanji erupted, "I started it! Hell, he was just acting in self-defense."

"Mr. Blackleg!" the cop snapped in an authoritative voice, "Please control yourself, you aren't yourself after that traumatic incident you suffered and shouldn't say things that might incriminate you later. At the farthest extent, you can be subpoenaed and if found guilty of perjury, _you can go to jail_. Now , I know Zoro Roronoa is a frightening man, but please just tell me the truth and nothing but the truth. Remember, it's your word against his, and since there were no eyewitnesses, your word is all I have for your case."

"No eyewitnesses?" Sanji snarled, and flung out a hand to the multitude of people still milling around the area, whispering and muttering in the aftershock of such an intense brawl. Most, if not all, were of dark hair and eyes, and of dusky complexion. "What about them, for God's sweet sake?"

"No reliable witnesses." the cop-_the pig_-Sanji's mind whispered- said stoically. Sanji heard an echoing of Zoro's words reverberate through the tumult of his mind… '_Coz they're idiots with no sense of humanity and a warped sense of justice. They're like animals-like pigs…'_

Zoro had been right. But he had also been wrong. The cops weren't pigs-Sanji was friends with some officers on the workforce that strived to maintain justice-whoever the person. the people who were pigs were the ones who let this entire atrocity simply keep on rolling. Like these cops. But they were also the ones who simply did nothing. Like most of Enies Lobby-who sat by because of ignorance and fear, and like most of Water 7-who did nothing because of bitterness…and fear.

"No reliable witnesses?" Sanji screeched loud enough for a sharp jagged pain to rasp down his throat and for small black spots to dance in front of his eyes. The man that had been questioning took a startled step back and glanced cautiously at Sanji. "They're _people_, like _you_, like _me_!" he shouted furiously at the bewildered man.

"We're just trying to help yo-" the man began, slowly.

"Stick it where the sun don't shine motherfucker. I'm no fucking pig." Sanji interrupted and then turning on his heel, stalked after Zoro.

~0~

**Author's Note: Chapter Four Revised. Thank you for reading and reviewing. **


	5. Sense of Vertigo

Chapter Four

Sense of Vertigo

Unos, dos, tres, catorce!  
Lights go down it's dark, the jungle is your head  
Can't rule your heart, a feeling so much stronger than a thought  
Your eyes are wide and though, your soul it can't be bought  
Your mind can wander  
I'm at a place called Vertigo  
It's everything I wish I didn't know  
Except you give me something, I can feel, feel

-_"Vertigo", U2_

_~0~_

His home away from home. The cozy confines of the administrator's judicial office. It smelled of cold filing cabinets and the faraway reek of a million scared and defiant individuals. This strange, sterile, slightly organic room is achingly familiar, and for a moment, Zoro wonders if he should be disturbed by that. The fact that he knows this place so well should be alarming, but it isn't. And that's life.

The chair he's seated in, feels oddly comfortable. And the feeling, as he sits there, under the contemplative eye of the principal, is so nostalgic that he can only describe it in French.

"Zoro, Zoro, Zoro." Sengoku, who had been watching him for a full minute and a half, finally breaks the tense silence with a sigh. The administrator had been glancing over the thick file containing all of Zoro's past misdemeanors, looking up only to shake his head at the green-haired youth slouching in the seat across from him. It was a large file; it had been a hard life.

Sengoku is a well-preserved fifty year old with a penchant for dressing in the Navy uniforms of his golden youth. He had been the steel backbone of East Blue High since before Zoro had been born. The principal had balls of solid titanium and a steel rod where his backbone should have been; anything less and East Blue would have eaten him alive.

"I didn't start shit." Zoro repeated, refusing to meet the older man's eyes. He knew that it was no use arguing or getting heated up for anything. In the end Zoro knew that he would be the one suspended, if not sued by Sanji's outraged parents. It would be much easier for the school to make them happy and suspend him then it would be to suspend Sanji, or even both of them. Money talked, bullshit walked.

_Tick tock, the time's in the clock, every time the hand moves, we get fucked. Hey-ho._

Sengoku sighed again and set the folder on his desk. "Zoro…It's the first week of school. I expected to see you again this year, unfortunately, but this is too much." His eyes were beyond grave, his tone that of a man whose puppy had just bitten his hand. Reproachful and slightly disappointed.

"Yeah? Well, I expected to see you this year too. In fact, let's celebrate our freaking anniversary shall we?" Zoro knew that he was just shooting himself in the foot being sarcastic to the head honcho, but really, sometimes things were too much. What did Sengoku expect, to see him volunteering at the old people's home?

"Zoro, you need to start thinking about your life and the direction you want it to go in." Sengoku's voice was grave, serious. The dark eyes behind the round circles of his glasses were contemplative.

Zoro blinked. Complete one-eighty there. He had expected Sengoku to slam his hands down on the desk and start yelling at him like he usually did after Zoro got his ass hauled in here. He scratched his head in bemusement, trying to figure out what the hell was up _this _time. He had just been pulled out of a fight with East Blue High's golden child and Sengoku wanted to _talk_. He might have believed if Sengoku had also offered him an all-expense paid trip to the Bahamas. It had to be a joke. "Since when did you become a motivational poster? ", he laughed, "If I wanted something arousing, I'd buy Viagra."

"Think about it Zoro!" Sengoku barked, his cheeks flushing in anger, "You're a smart kid! You could make something of yourself! Don't further compromise your situation by doing drugs or picking fights!"

"I didn't pick a fight! He started it! Will you fucking believe it?" Zoro snapped before he could stop himself. He was already out of his chair with his face in Sengoku's ugly mug, lips peeled back in a helpless snarl. So much for not getting riled up.

Sengoku didn't back down, no military man would, in such a situation, "It doesn't matter! No one's going to believe you, Zoro! It's your word against his! And-"

"_Whoa! _Hey, there! No one said I was going to fuck him over!", a decidedly familiar voice interrupted from behind Zoro. But it was so unexpected; and there was no possible way that-could it? He couldn't have been more stunned if the Almighty's booming voice had erupted in the office.

Sengoku looked up from where he had been glaring into Zoro's eyes, surprised; and Zoro nearly put a crick in his neck from how fast he whipped his head around. His face was all eyes; agape.

Sanji was standing there in all his blonde glory. And Zoro fought a ridiculous urge to scream, 'Hallelujah!' The blond must have entered unnoticed when they had started arguing and managed to catch the last bit of conversation. He had a strange look on his face, half-pissed and half-what the _fuck_ am I doing?

But _what_ had he said? Zoro thought flabbergasted. He mouthed the words-_what are you_ _doing?-_to Sanji, but the chef wasn't looking at him, his eyes were locked on the principal's. And the screeching metal could be heard as each man measured the other up. Typical macho.

Sengoku apparently had the same thoughts as Zoro, "Who are you? What do you want? And what did you mean?", he barked the questions out, one hand hovering over the walkie-talkie on his desk, probably wondering whether he should call security or whether he should wait this confusion out.

"The name's Sanji.", and Zoro wasn't at all surprised at the badboy attitude the blond had adopted," I'm the guy that attacked this sad sack of shit sitting here." And incredibly, he stuck out a hand for Sengoku to shake. It was fucking hilarious, once you thought about it.

Sengoku grasped it and shook, probably more out of surprise than anything else, "Let me try to understand this… you're willingly admitting to an act of violence?" If he was shocked or suspicious, the principal did not show it

"Exactly.", Sanji said, and ran a hand through his blond hair with an air of distraction inappropriate for the situation. It was like he was trying to say-_can we hurry up with this shit? I left a bun in the oven. _

Sengoku looked at Zoro, his eyebrows scrunched close together in scrutiny, "Is this true?"

Zoro came out of his paralysis enough to nod. Not sure what else to do.

Sengoku gave him a deep penetrating look and finally nodded. "Zoro Roronoa, consider yourself unsuspended. Your actions are considered self-defense. Get yourself checked up before you leave." He motioned to the door, clearly signaling the end of their discussion.

"Wait, Sanji, why-" Zoro began, confused, turning to the blonde.

Sanji finally spared him a glance that didn't say much, and then looked away again, "You heard the man. Get your sorry ass out of here." There was nothing but neutrality in his voice, and Zoro wondered what the hell _that_ could mean?

"No vulgarities please." Sengoku admonished with the air of a man who has long ago given up the hope of actually stopping it. "Out, please Zoro.", he flapped his hands to the still open door, looking more and more irritated that he was still there, standing and gawking at Sanji like the guy had just grown an extra eye.

_Why the hell would he do something like this-_

"But Sanji, that means-", he didn't _know_ what it meant, his sentence would have ended in an awkward little trailing off if Sengoku hadn't finally lost his patience.

The principal slammed a fist on his metal desk hard enough to dent it, the crack was loud enough for Zoro to wince, "That's enough! Get out Roronoa-_now_!"

He fled. But not before he saw Sanji snicker.

`~0~

After the door had slammed shut after Zoro's hurried departure, Sanji turned to measure the principal again. Unlike Zoro, who probably knew Sengoku's blood type and favorite type of cake flavor, Sanji had never had reason to get his ass hauled in here. It wasn't because he was mister goody-two-shoes who masturbated with his grade report card wrapped around his dick; he just never had reason to be called in here. Even though he smoked and drank and did other not-so-savory deeds.

"Sit down.", Sengoku invited, seating himself.

Sanji did, and there was a moment of silence in which neither men knew how to begin. It just wasn't one of those moments in life which came with an instruction manual. As if any moments in life did. And he felt doubly exposed, wearing this ridiculous P.E uniform, he wanted his suit back, damn it. More-he wanted the packet of Cools in the dashboard of his car.

He found his eyes straying down to the thick manila folder on the desk, its considerable bulk was rather ridiculous. Sanji wondered how the hell someone could have so many strikes against them and still remain enrolled in a public institution.

Sengoku seemed to read his thoughts, "I have been…lenient…with our young friend." His voice is wry.

Sanji poked at the corner of the file, "Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead. Though I'd appreciate if you kept it to yourself.", and the principal waved a hand in acquiescence.

Sanji took the manila folder and flipped through it, eyebrows squeezed tight in concentration as he witnessed Zoro's misdeeds from the three years past. Suspensions, detentions, referrals, on campus retentions-had a day gone by in which Zoro had taken it into his head to follow the rules?

Here was a suspension for fighting. A referral for defiance. A detention for being vulgar. A suspension for extensive PDA.

"What the hell is extensive PDA?", Sanji demanded, laughing, and holding up the paper.

Sengoku took it and examined it for a second before grunting and handing it back, "Extensive public display of affection. That was one of his less serious charges, and if I remember correctly, he was caught having sex with another female student on campus. Ms. Nico if I'm not mistaken. "

"How classy.", Sanji muttered, and handed back the manila folder. Sengoku chuckled.

The principal took it and placed it back in a black metal filing cabinet next to his desk and locked it, when he turned back, Sanji saw that his eyes had turned serious.

"Mr. Blackleg, I'm not sure if you can appreciate the grimness of the situation."

"I'm sure I can.", Sanji said immediately, "Look, I'm not a saint, but I have a sense of morality, of what's right and what's wrong. And if I walked away from this, I wouldn't have been able to sleep at night."

He watched as Sengoku chewed on that one for a while. The principal was probably wondering when the last time had been when there had been such a show of generosity within his hallowed halls. Maybe around the time the school had first opened its doors. Maybe never.

"Mr. Blackleg-_Sanji -_why are you doing this?", Sengoku finally said.

"I already told you. It's an issue of my own integrity.", Sanji answered back, and then paused for a time before he continued, "And anyway-Zoro's seems all right. It's just a feeling I kind of get, so I don't want him to get in trouble for something I did. Or that I instigated. You get me?" He paused, cocking an eye at Sengoku.

"Do you really think that Roronoa is…how should I put this…moral at heart? That, despite his record, which so in so far, is rather impressive, dreadfully so, he is a good man?", Sengoku had steepled his fingers beneath his chin to prop it up as he stared at Sanji.

Sanji took a moment to think about that. It seemed to him that it was a question that had little relevance to his being there. He thought he had made it clear that it had been his own moral conscious that had prevented him from walking away. It was too soon to answer, with any credence, the question that Sengoku was posing him. He had known Zoro for what, two hours? Of course Sanji had seen him around, but had never actually talked to him. And even now, if he wanted to be realistic, he didn't know Zoro from jack.

It was just too early to trust his instinct, which told him that the green-haired guy was pretty much okay. Much too early for that kind of decision.

But it wasn't something that the principal of his high school was entitled to know. It wasn't something _anybody_ was entitled to know. So instead of dragging the murkiness which resided in his mind out, Sanji simply said, "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."

He could tell that Sengoku wasn't ecstatic about his answer, Sanji wasn't surprised-he wasn't happy with it himself. It felt like a lie, artificial and plastic. A cookie-cutter answer. But that was just the way the cards fell.

Sengoku nodded in resignation, and then smiled at him suddenly as a different theme surfaced in his mind, "How's Zeff? I hear the old man's as spry as he was when he was twenty? It's a wonder…"

They talked for a while of other things. Of food and men and whether cooks have wings. [1] But Zoro Roronoa was not brought up again. Though both men could feel him in the room. Waiting for judgment.

~0~

Zoro glanced at his watch for what seemed the millionth time. It had got so that he had actually memorized every nick and scratch in the damn thing and he could see its digital face dancing the salsa across the backs of his eyes. It had been an hour already, though it seemed like he had spent the entire fucking forty days and forty nights outside by now. What the hell could they be doing there? Exchanging pen pal addresses? Knitting over cozy cups of coffee? Busting a nut together?

Ever since he had been unceremoniously banished from the room, Zoro had been waiting outside for the emergence of his blond. He had considered leaving but had immediately scraped the idea. It wouldn't be right for him to just up and leave after Sanji had just saved his ass. And what's more Zoro discovered he didn't want to leave. He wanted to talk to Sanji again and ask him _what the fuck were you thinking_?

_Why?_

No matter how Zoro raked his mind, he couldn't find a plausible reason for Sanji to turn himself in for his sake. Especially after all the stuff they had said to each other, and they had _fought_ for Christ's sake! When had the world turned generous? The sudden benevolence fate had cared to throw him had not assuaged his worries, but, in contrast, had doubled them tenfold. It would have been much less confusing to have just been suspended and have it be done with.

_Why?_

So he waited. After a while he sat down against a wall and stretched out his long legs. There was nothing to do but drive himself insane with circuitous and illusionary theories of the sociological and psychological ideologies of the world. In other words, Zoro was fucking confused.

It was best to wait when things got that fucking raveled. Maybe time would resolve some of the knots.

Zoro checked his cell phone after a while, since he had nothing else to do. He didn't particularly have a strong liking for the small electronic apparatuses that could be such fucking nuisances at times. But everybody had one these days, and it _did _have its practical uses, so Zoro had compromised and bought one of those cheap little pay-per-minute things that weren't so complicated as the other ones. Though he couldn't have afforded one of those anyways. Flipping it open, Zoro groaned as he saw the amount of missed calls and texts, he read

Missed call from: Ace (2:30)

From: Ace (2:34)

Where the fuck are you?

From: Ace (2:39)

Where the fuck ARE you? Get your ass over here. I promised Usopp I'd meet him at 3

From: Ace (2: 43)

Im gonna be late asshole. In case u forgot ur our ride home. GET UR ASS HERE NOW x(

From: Ace (2:49)

That's it buddy. Im hijacking ur bike. Just connect the red and green wires rite? LOL ;) Take the bus home dick.

From: Robin (2: 51)

I'm sorry Zoro. I did need to get home. Where are you? Please call me when you can. I'm worried. =(

From: Robin (2: 52)

And can I take you up on your offer to help clean my apartment?

From: Ace (2: 58)

I'm at usopps. Hav ur bike. Dropped Ro at her home. Will c u at ur place. round 3:50. Don't w8 up honey. X)

From: Ace (3:00)

Hav fun walking home. LOL

From: Ace (3:24)

Zoro? Ur starting 2 scare me. Y haven't u picked up yet? U ok? Something bout Blkbeard? Call if u need help.

From: Robin (3:27)

Call me! Where are you?

From: Usopp (3: 29)

Every1's freaking out. Where are you? What happened?

From: Luffy (3: 30)

Wanna play X-box tonight?

From: Luffy (3: 30)

Bring food if ur coming over =)

Missed call from: Kohza

From: Kohza (3: 35)

What's wrong? Answer yr damn fone

From: Ace (3: 43)

Damn it Zoro. Wat happened?

Zoro groaned in frustration, feeling like everything was accumulating in one huge shitheap which vaguely smelled like the dick of Bigfoot. With all the chaos erupting around him since the bell had rung at 2:30, he had forgotten completely about his phone and the fact that Ace and Robin depended on him for their ride home. He started to dial Ace's number from memory to apologize and to bitch at him for fucking _hijacking his bike_, when Zoro heard the door of Sengoku's office open. Right on time.

Zoro immediately stuffed his phone in his pocket and got up from where he had been sitting. Everything else except Sanji and what had happened faded from his mind, and the transition was so easy, Zoro didn't even feel it.

Carefully, he approached. Feeling both awkward and embarrassed. Feeling like his mouth was full of wet cotton. The term was _shy_, except it had been so long since he had felt that particular emotion, that Zoro had forgotten the word. Or at least, in relation to himself.

Sanji stilled for a moment as he saw him, and Zoro saw his blue eyes widen imperceptibly. It was incredible how all the details flooded in, as if the blond was under a huge magnifying glass. It was a fucking _trip._

And then Sanji was off. Walking back through the rest of the building to the double door exit with a nice swinging gait which screamed '_you know you're picturing yourself fucking me!'_

Zoro tried to ignore the screaming voice in his head, and ran after the blonde, "_Hey _wait-"

"What?", Sanji asked, still walking on, with a determined air. His voice was neutral and Zoro took that as a good sign. A _comforting_ sign.

"What happened?" Zoro demanded, though that wasn't really what he wanted to ask. It was just the best thing his twisted tongue was capable of spitting out at the moment, when under the intense scrutiny of Sanji Blackleg.

"What do you think? I'm sure you've been there before. I'm suspended." Sanji replied, not sounding too pissed at the sentence.

They were nearing the exit now. "Why'd you stick up for me though?" Zoro asked in a quieter voice. This was the crux of the matter, "You didn't have to. I didn't expect you to." He trailed off, deciding Sanji was smart enough to fill in the blanks himself.

Sanji paused with his hand on the door, he glanced at Zoro again, "Was I supposed to leave you like that?", his face was unreadable.

"No! Well, I mean…thanks, I guess?", it was probably the best thing he could have said, at least Zoro didn't sound like a _complete_ idiot.

Sanji smiled for the first time since he had barged into the office, and said sweetly "Fuck off."

Zoro laughed, surprised but pleased. It was something Ace would've said. And again, that feeling of _having met another friend_ threatened to overwhelm him. It was fucking nostalgia, at its fucking finest, my dear. They fell into step walking out toward the parking lot, feeling more comfortable together, despite everything screaming that they _should not_. "Hey…" Zoro said suddenly, as he remembered something.

Sanji grunted; manspeak for 'what?'

"What did you mean when you said that no one talked to you like that before?", it was a dangerous topic. It had been awkward before the self-sacrifice; and now it was goddamn incendiary. But he needed to _understand_. He hadn't really thought about it at all; his mind probably wouldn't even have been able to undertake the simplest arithmetic problems at these high waters. Zoro just wanted things explained. He was tired of guessing and trying to figure it out, he wanted the fucking answer key to Sanji already.

What had the guy said? That no one talked rough with him? But that…was impossible. Then where exactly had Sanji learned to be so badass? It wasn't something that he could have picked up from the Discovery Channel. A faker was always the first to be found out.

Sanji cocked his head, mouth screwing down in the corner, "What the _fuck _you talking about?"

Zoro laughed at the same time he slumped his head, _had _Sanji forgotten already? But it had been something that he wanted to know about. Had he imagined it all?

"Don't bullshit me man. I _know_ you said something along those corny lines, "And so God help me-"

"Fuck you-it wasn't corny, what the hell do you know?", Sanji shot back, his eyes snapping fire.

"I _don't know. _That's the whole freaking point! You don't make sense, I don't get it-I just don't get it. And things I don't get piss me off."

"Whatta dick _you_ turned out to be."

"Well fuck me for trying to interpret what the hell you were saying."

"I seriously don't fucking get how you_ cannot_ get it. I mean, who hit you with the stupid stick? Not even, someone just didn't hit you with the stupid stick, they raped you with the whole damn tree!"

"Oye! That was _harsh_.", Zoro muttered, at a loss for words for a better comeback.

Sanji chuckled, and then said quietly, "This. Ya know?"

Zoro felt a headache brewing as he tried to understand the idiot walking next to him, "This?" he repeated, sounding stupid to his own ears. He usually considered himself an intelligent guy, so why did it seem he reverted back to the Paleolithic era caveman when Sanji was around? The guy probably thought it was because he was on drugs or something.

"Yes, _this,_ asshole. Don't ask questions if you forget what the fuck you asked two seconds later." Sanji laughed. "You're weird, man."

"Well, don't answer them so vaguely! We're not playing twenty questions here!" Zoro yelled. "How the fuck does_ this_ answer my question, eh?"

"I don't talk like_ this_ with anyone." Sanji said calmly. And if there wasn't laughter in his voice, then Zoro would eat his own shirt.

"Argh. Someone shoot me…" Zoro moaned, kneading his knuckles into his forehead, "You could have just said that. What's with the _mystery?_" They were almost to the parking lot entrance now.

"I didn't think you'd be such an idiot."

"I didn't think you'd be such a fucking prick." Automatic. The insults went back and forth. Flirtatious in their audacity.

Sanji laughed. "Pun."

_I like the guy. I _like_ him! He's not bad at all! He's completely different than what I ever imagined!_

"Mind in the gutter pervert."

_What the hell does it all mean?_

"Where else?"

_He's already my friend. _

This time they both laughed. As they entered the student parking lot, Zoro immediately spotted Sanji's silver convertible; it was one of the few cars still left in the lot. He glanced over at the place he had parked his bike even though he knew it would be empty; it was. Ace knew how to hotwire anything. Franky had taught both of them. Common knowledge.

Sanji glanced around, "Where's your bike?"

Zoro shrugged, "Ace took it. I forgot that I was supposed to give them a ride home. Heat of the moment, I'd guess you'd say."

"How are you going to get home again then?"

"I'll call someone up. No biggie.", he was already pulling out his phone.

"I'll give you a ride." It was said causally, nonchalantly. It made Zoro look up sharply, feeling both guilty and wary. The bet which had been hanging around in the back of his mind for the entire jibing recourse flooded back into the forefront of his thoughts. Unbidden images of all the times he had sex in the backseat of a vehicle exploded in his conscious. And Sanji was a good-looking guy. He had looked-

_Say something idiot! He's waiting for you to say something!_

"Y-you sure?" …_Stupid_. Zoro could have ripped out his tongue. Of course, Sanji was_ sure_, why else would the blond have offered in the first place? God! He had never been so awkward since junior high, when he had given and received his first fumbling kisses.

Sanji just gave him a weird look, heedless of the chaos swirling around his head, "Yeah, it's no big deal…" he trailed off as they reached his car, and then suddenly, "Oh, shit…I can't believe…"

Alarmed, Zoro said, "What?" His eyes already running over the fine piece of car, looking for slashed tires, broken lights, or bologna covering the paint job. Instinct.

Sanji was frantically patting the sides of his shorts, "I don't have my keys!"

"Well, where are they?" Zoro asked, amused to see that Sanji was still wearing his track outfit. It _had_ seemed a little off when Sanji had first appeared, but Zoro hadn't really paid much mind. There had been other fish to fry at the moment.

Sanji wasn't as amused. "They're in my fucking locker mosshead! I'm still wearing this shitty track outfit, and all my shit is in my locker! My clothes, my keys, my wallet, everything!"

"Go get it then." Zoro said logically. Inside he was wondering how thick the blonde was to not have noticed that he wasn't dressed in his regular clothes and that he was missing his stuff. "You're so stupid, you know that, right?"

Sanji glanced at his wrist, saw he had taken his watch off for track and groaned in frustration, "What time is it?"

Zoro flipped open his cell, "4:01"

Sanji slammed his fist on the car, "Shit! Coach locks up the place at 3:45"

"Sucks." Zoro couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. It served the blond right, for being so thick. Plus, it was just funny to see Sanji Blackleg all worried and bent out of shape. He didn't know why, but hell, what he didn't know about Sanji could fill all twenty-something books of the Encyclopedia Britannica.

Sanji whipped around to glare at him, "This is all _your_ fault you idiot!"

"What! _Mine?_ Who attacked who you fucking blonde?" In each other's face again. Had they been mortal enemies in another lifetime?

"Whatever! Now how am I supposed to get home?" Sanji demanded. As if Zoro was the fucking oracle of Delphi which would provide him with all his answers, including an explanation on the meaning of life.

Zoro shrugged, straining not to roll his eyes. Then brightened as something came over him, "Hey, I got an idea," Heh, maybe he _did_ have all the answers.

"Enlighten me, oh master of knowledge."Sanji said sarcastically.

"I can hotwire your car.", Zoro said, shrugging. Completely normal.

"You can _what?_" Sanji looked halfway caught between intrigue and _I don't want to know any more about this. _

"Hotwire. It won't damage it, promise."

Sanji chewed on that for a second, and finally sighed, shrugging sorrowfully at having his Lexus undergo such an injustice, "Fine… But how are you even going to get inside?"

Zoro couldn't resist, "That's what she said."

"Very funny.", but the blond smiled. "But, no, really."

"Easy. Watch this." Zoro took a cursory glance over the silver automobile again; and then jogged over to a nearby planter which held a small tree in it, apparently there for the purpose of decorating the drab, concrete parking lot. There, after a short examination, he selected a small thin, sturdy branch and broke it off. It would do.

He jogged back to the car and shooed Sanji away from the driver's door. Sanji let himself be pushed away; the blond seemed to have lost his apprehension and what was more, was watching Zoro's movements with a glimmer of interest that was not lost on the other man.

When Sanji had parked that morning, he had left a sliver of his window open and had replaced the top of the convertible before he had locked it. Zoro stuck the branch through the crack and angled it down so that it was poking the window and lock controls on the driver's door. And carefully, he maneuvered so that the tip of the shaft was flirting with the switches.

After a minute the door swung open and Zoro made a satisfied noise. Even Sanji looked impressed. But he immediately said, "You couldn't have done that if the window wasn't opened." If Zoro had rearranged the atoms in his hand so that he could plunge it through the window without breaking it, and flipped the switch _that_ way; Sanji would _still _have found something to complain about, no doubt.

"Nope, but thankfully, there's always an idiot who leaves their window open." Zoro retorted, fiddling underneath the wheel. "But there's other ways to open cars. I just don't want to impart all my secrets to you." He was smug.

Sanji had no comeback for that one. So he shut up and walked to the passenger side of his car and opened the door. Flicking open the glove department, he pulled out a pack of Camels and a stainless steel lighter. He usually wouldn't be so thick to smoke in the school parking lot; but it had been a long day and Sanji felt he deserved a smoke.

God, he had never felt so in need of a butt so bad. Sanji could already feel the calming affects of the nicotine in his system and the reassuring feel of the slim cylinder clutched between his fingers.

Zoro glanced up from whatever he was doing underneath the dashboard, "You _smoke?_" His tone was better suited to another question, one more dire. Like _'you fuck little babies and then eat them?' _

"Why so surprised? I'm sure you've seen one of these before." Sanji held up the cigarette for a brief second before he lit it up and took a deep drag, closing his eyes as he wafted away on a nicotine high. He could feel Zoro's eyes on him.

"Yeah, but the last place I'd expect to see one is in _your_ hands." Zoro mused, looking back at the wires in his hands.

"Why? Because I'm a rich snot?" They were heading into earthquake territory.

"You were _supposed _to be.", Zoro says, all of a sudden he's unsure. Unsure of his footing.

"You were _supposed to be_ too.", Sanji answers softly, letting out another poof of smoke.

"What?" Zoro asked, perplexed.

"You were supposed to be something else too. God, you're such a retard."

"Why the hell do you talk like a-a freaking _riddle book_?"

"I keep forgetting you're stupid." Sanji said, blowing smoke in Zoro's direction. "Translation-I thought you'd be some tattooed, scarred, one-eyed gang-member who's stoned half the fucking time."

"What?", Zoro laughed, genuinely amused at the description of himself, "That's the furthest thing from me than you can possibly get."

"Yeah, I'd have to say yes.", Sanji agreed. He paused and then, a cloud of confusion seemed to descend over his features, "You're-" He was cut off as the Mercedes engine purred into life and Zoro gave a triumphant "Fuck yeah!"

Sanji made to get out, but Zoro slammed his door shut and grabbed the wheel, "Sorry," he said grinning, "I have this thing where I have to drive all the cars I hotwire. You ride shotgun today."

Sanji frowned, but he closed his door and strapped his seatbelt, "It's my freaking car, asshole."

Zoro laughed, "Which you wouldn't even be _in _if it weren't for yours truly. So just shut up and tell me where to?"

"You tell me. I'm supposed to be the one giving you a ride." Sanji muttered, pretending to be interested in his lighter.

Zoro pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the street, the wheel turning smoothly in his hands, unaware that its true master wasn't controlling its luxurious curves. The same car that his best friend has slammed his motorcycle boot onto this very same morning; Zoro was now driving around like he owned it. It was oddly unsettling. Like he had fallen into Twain's _The Prince and the Pauper_. Except the modern day version. _The Jock and the Gangster_. Rated R. Now In Theaters Near You.

"The place I want to go is around twenty minutes from here." He volunteered to the blonde sitting next to him, more to say something and break out of his thoughts than anything.

"Dandy. I mean thank you so much for bothering to share with me that particular piece of information." Zoro could have scooped up the sarcasm that dripped from Sanji's lips and _eaten_ it, it was that tangible.

Silence. A full thirty seconds of silence in which the awkwardness slowly suffocated them.

Zoro's hands fidgeted on the wheel, randomly hoping that he wouldn't mess up and get a ticket, his driver's license was as real as a three-dollar bill from the planet Mars.

_Say something man! Talk him up! _

"How come no one talks to you like that? I mean, we're freaking high-schoolers. It's a _given_. "

_Congratulations Zoro. You just won the most Awkward Phrase of the Century Award. Many compete, but few win. Hallelujah! _

He felt Sanji stiffen in the seat next to him, "You still on about that? Though it pissed you off and confused the shit outta you."

"Well, you're the one who brought that shit up _in the first place_. And anyway, we got a twenty minute car trip with each other's enjoyable company. If I don't figure this stuff out, then it's going to bug me and I won't be able to fuck in peace."

"Stick it." Sanji muttered, then after a contemplative pause, "Well, yeah, I mean, everyone I hang with just doesn't talk like that. Everyone's nice and sweet and_ helpful_. Ever since I've known them."

"And you're not like that?" Zoro asked helpfully, more than a little fascinated than was probably helpful. But he couldn't help it. Hearing this come out of _Sanji Blackleg's _mouth was like seeing a saint in prison; a rabbit feasting on a fresh-killed carcass. An angel with a revolver in each hand and a cigarette at the corner of his lips.

"Well, yeah. But it's just not that." Sanji trailed off then said slowly, "I feel…like there's more to life than graduating high school, going to a college, marrying your sweetheart and having two point five kids."

Zoro nodded, agreeing with his entire being.

" And when everyone talks about it…it just doesn't click. Enies Lobby is just so…well-meaning. I've always wanted something more than that. There's nothing wrong with it, and of course people over there smoke weed and snort coke too, but it's just not _me."_

"You think you belong in Water 7 or what?"

"No." The answer is immediate.

Zoro eased the brake and came to a stop at a red light, "I don't get it. You like talking dirty. You like smoking. You like fighting. You like drawing blood. But you don't think you belong in Water 7? There's some hard-ass gangsters who don't fight as well as you, you know."

"Yeah…", Sanji chuckled, pleased, "Fighting…it feels good. People don't get that. I felt freaking _alive_ when I fight. When I was fighting you. Like I can do anything. Blood rushing to the head. Everything vibrating. I felt alive."

It was eerie how close the blonde cook's thoughts ran to his. It was like hearing his own thoughts spoken in a different voice. Uncanny, and slightly disturbing because it was like their souls were kissing. "Well, you would have been feeling _dead_ soon if they didn't come and save your ass." Enough of the deep stuff, he could only take so much of that.

"If I remember correctly, it was I who saved your ass." Sanji retorted, looking slightly annoyed at the sudden topic change.

Zoro relented, always a sucker for a sad face, "But I know what you mean, if that helps."

"You do?" Sanji asked sharply, then he turned away angrily, as though he thought that the green-haired man was putting one over him. "No, you don't. You're just saying that. You're living the way you fucking please."

"What, you think living in Water 7 is some kind of adventure?" Zoro asked quietly, "Get past the DEA [2] dragon to get to the crystal meth treasure chests, is that it? We don't pick colors to play flag football. People have died over here. I've seen them go down." His voice had been getting more and more tighter as he talked, and by the last word, it was two inches short of a whiplash.

Sanji grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize…It makes you look stupider."

Zoro glanced over and saw that Sanji was staring fixedly at his hands clenched tightly in his lap. He sighed and let out a long whoosh of breath, "Look, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Or at least not like that. Water 7 isn't what you think it is, and Enies Lobby isn't what I thought it was." He reached over and patted Sanji awkwardly on the shoulder, and his hand burned with the unfamiliar contact, and he withdrew it hurriedly.

"Why is everything so fucked up?" he heard the blonde mutter.

"Way of the world."

Zoro received a grunt in reply.

They drove in silence for another couple minutes. Zoro didn't think it was awkward, but there was a sort of tenseness in the air that evaporated any attempt at conversation.

His thoughts returned to the bet, the proximity between him and his victim was too short for his thoughts _not _to. But too much had happened. The guy beside him wasn't the guy he had agreed to fuck with, and the fact had sprung up a plethora of complications…but Zoro was not taking the _school _bus to _school_. So where the hell did that leave him? He knew where it left him. At the intersection of _I have no fucking idea Street _and _What the hell should I do _Avenue. Great place to be.

But_ if_ he was even considering it, how was he supposed to approach the blond in _that_ kind of way? He still thought the booze idea wasn't half-bad. Though, if Zoro wanted to pick up a girl, he would start off with compliments, then suggestive innuendo, then finally, seduction.

But Zoro suspected that Sanji might freak out if he told him how shiny, silky his blonde hair was; or how pretty his eyes were. It was ridiculous.

And he would definitely freak out if Zoro asked him if being a chef heightened his oral capabilities. A stupid, culinary themed pick up line? Where the hell had that come from?

And he would most definitely freak out if Zoro started to trail light kisses down his neckline. Damn, that freaked the living shit out of _him_.

Where did that even leave him? That approaching Sanji as a female conquest was out of the question. It simply wasn't going to work. Guys operated under a different formula. So…?

May Ace burn in hell for all of eternity. Amen.

Wait, the firebug might like that. Hell itself probably wasn't hot enough for Ace D. Portgas.

_Well, at least try to say something! Even if it is the stupidest thing alive. _

"So…um, why do you fight with just your legs?" Zoro asked, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than was necessary. He didn't know what else to talk about that wouldn't bore him to death or that wasn't a touchy subject.

Sanji grinned, "I'll tell you later."

"Why not now?" Zoro asked annoyed. It wasn't like Sanji was going anywhere soon. Sheesh.

"Because you have to see me in action to get it." Sanji said calmly, unruffled.

_I'll be seeing you in action all right_, Zoro thought, but said, "Whatever. Not like I cared."

"Yeah, you asked me twice already. You most definitely do _not _care."

"Shaddup."

They had been on the street where he had wanted to go for a minute now, so Zoro wasn't surprised when he saw Usopp's house coming up, the longnose lived only a couple minutes away from Robin's place. Zoro felt a strange stirring of disappointment as his eyes ran over the familiar eaves-the ride had lasted so little. It was a weird, confused feeling, and he stashed it away almost immediately. Zoro pulled over to the side of the road, in front of the house across from Usopp and shifted into park. "This is where I get off."

Sanji glanced at the house, "Your home?"

"Nah, it's the house across. But that's still not my home."

"Oh, aren't you going home?" Sanji asked, perplexed.

"Not yet." Too hard to explain the dynamics of his life in a few seconds.

But Sanji persisted, "Where do you live?"

"Not here." He lived everywhere. Water 7 was his home.

Sanji frowned at the evasive answers, "Look, if you don't want to tell me, just say so."

Zoro opened his mouth to say that it wasn't that, but then closed it again. For some strange reason, he didn't mind Sanji knowing, eventually, about his history, even though people he had known for years still didn't know everything. He felt like it was okay to tell Sanji. Sanji was a blank slate, a clean board. It would be like starting over.

But it had been a long day already and he didn't want to freak out Sanji by dragging out all the skeletons in his closet and getting them to dance until their bones jingled. Remembering what Sanji had said earlier on his own quest for information about the mysterious chef himself, Zoro grinned and said, "I'll tell you about it later. _When you see me in action."_

"_Ass-hole."_

"Well, you asked for it." Zoro opened his car door and got out, pausing to stretch his back. He heard Sanji open his door and get out too and walk over to his side, so he could take back control of his car. He turned around to face the smoking blonde, "Hey, thanks for saving my shit today. I mean it." Gratitude long overdue. But it was better late than never, right?

"Sure." Noncommittal. Sanji wasn't even looking at him, his eyes were scanning the street as if looking for something only he could see.

"All right. See you tomorrow." Zoro said, turning to go, but stopping when he heard Sanji burst into laughter, "What?"

"'_See you tomorrow?_' Are you shitting me? I got suspended remember? I'm not back 'til next week."

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that." Zoro said, pretending seriousness, and then burst out laughing, "_Sucker."_ He barely dodged a quick kick to the head. Man, he really wanted to know the story behind those legs.

Sanji opened the car door and slid in, "Don't push your luck _bitch."_

"Hey Sanji."

"What?" Sanji said, looking up in time to see Zoro raise both his fists and pop the middle fingers up on both hands. Take_ that_.

"Awww, that's so sweet. Fuck you too, moss-head.", Sanji yelled back, pulling away from the curb. The screech of the tires was a wildcat in heat.

Zoro stood grinning as he watched the silver convertible with the feisty blonde drive off into the distance, before he jogged across the street and disappeared into the dark recesses of the dark and dingy house.

But not before he decided that he liked Sanji fucking Blackleg a great deal.

~0~

**Author's note: Chapter Five Revised!**

[1] Loose, humorous allusion to Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter" (1972), from _Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There_. Disclaimed.

[2] DEA-Drug Enforcement Agency


	6. Unnatural Interest

Chapter Six

Unnatural Interest

What's wrong with me?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm going crazy now.

No more gas in the rig, can't even get it started

Nothing heard, nothing said, can't even speak about it

Feels like I'm going insane

It's a thief in the night, to come and grab you

It can creep up inside you and consume you

A disease of the mind, it can control you

It's too close for comfort

_-"Disturbia", Rihanna _

~0~

He slipped the door open and slid inside quietly, still grinning from the crude banter he had so recently exchanged with Sanji Blackleg. The blonde was something else, that was for sure. Never had he met someone like the man who had saved his ass that day. The guy was a walking paradox. Complex and simple. One moment seemingly shy, the next kicking ass; one moment looking as tough as nails, the next as vulnerable as a child. He was a puzzling enigma that confused, yet intrigued him; a human rubric's cube that Zoro longed to seize and twist until he solved its riddle.

Or if he couldn't, slam the fucking thing against the fucking wall until it gave up its secrets.

Sanji was refined, the polish showed with every word that came out of his smoker's mouth. But the refinement covered a much more primal character which Zoro knew lurked underneath. And when they fought, when they verbally clashed; Sanji's gentlemanly veneer ripped and tore. It was exciting. Exciting to see an angel who acted like a demon.

But the bet.

The fucking bet.

He couldn't forget that.

He couldn't allow himself the luxury of getting carried away by Sanji, no matter how cool of a guy he was turning out to be. In fact, what he needed to do was put these naïve and potentially dangerous whims of delving into Sanji's character, out of his mind. The less he saw Sanji as another person, the less messy this whole shit-storm was going to be.

_I told Ace that I was going to fuck this guy up. And what? Now this same guy's a friend? There is no fucking way Ace would ever live long enough to forgive me that. It's not just a matter or finishing a stupid bet. It's something more. It's revenge, baby._

Zoro let himself knock his head against the hallway and groaned softly, a soft whisper in the empty stillness of the narrow hall, and his eyes slipped shut with fatigue. Immediately, images of Sanji's handsome, smiling face swarmed through his mind, seeming to accuse him; echoes of Sanji's velvety baritone bounced through his head, voicing reproach and disapproval which shamed him in some strange way.

It should have been nothing. Sanji Blackleg should have been something entirely different. Where the world gone? What the hell could he do to change it back to the way it had been? Why the hell wasn't he happy that the guy wasn't a complete douchebag? Could someone please explain this to him?

Zoro winced, and closed his eyes, lifting his palm to cover them, as though he was feeling the initial pangs of pain of a massive headache. There were too many questions that had no answers. It was enough to drive Socrates insane.

But the images and thoughts and ideas and complaints flooded into his mind, unbidden. Zoro leaned heavily against a thin wall, trying to find some sort of flimsy support in a world which seemed to have gone insane in one short day. But Sanji, unwittingly, had broken past barriers he hadn't even known existed, and had lodged in the deepest recesses of his mind, defying any of his efforts to dislodge him.

_Why? Why? Why? Sanji, Sanji, Sanji, go away, come again some other day. _

He wasn't sure why the quirky blonde drew him so intimately. The guy was different, strange, exciting, intense, one crazy motherfucker. Ever since Sanji had arrived in his life less than twenty four hours ago in some kind of cataclysmic whirlwind; the cook was affecting him in more ways than people he had known his whole life had ever done. Zoro honestly thought that he had racked his brain more, in trying to understand the blond, in the last past hours then he had ever thought about people he had known his whole life.

It was love at first sight, minus the love. Weird, inexplicable, unfathomable, definitely _unnatural_ interest in another human being. Had Sanji Blackleg been of the double x chromosome variety, Zoro was sure he would have been following her around, panting and acting suave. But, the guy was a guy, and Zoro was simply puzzled.

If the situation had been a little funnier, Zoro would have likened it to the dramatic movies he sometimes saw on the television late at night, where a man and woman fall in love at first sight among whirling chaos and their lives are never the same again. Zoro would always watch these c-movies with a bemused kind of air, a beer in hand, late at night in his home, when no one else was there and there was nothing to do and nothing better on the other channels.

He would just sit there and watch the flickering television screen cast shadows on the wall. Sometimes he would mute it and watch the silent dramas unfold before his tired and disillusioned eyes; man meets woman, man loves woman, woman has problems, man helps woman, man marries woman, and they live happily ever after in marital bliss. He hadn't done it for a while.

Zoro would wonder when he would meet his life partner, his better half, the love of his life; all those clichés which described the person that he would dedicate the rest of his life to.

On female companionship he wasn't lacking, Zoro had filled his bed with an assortment of women since he had first been introduced to the mysteries of sex; but they had come and gone, as noiseless and as unsubstantial as ghosts. Either they wouldn't be there in the morning or he wouldn't. Sex he had; it was on love he came up short.

Where Sanji fit into all these musings, Zoro was unsure, but he did know that, just that for once, here was someone that Zoro could connect to, maybe someone that he could be able to trust enough to share his secrets and dreams too, that he could trust even more than Ace, who thought he knew everything but didn't; and now some perverse twist of fate had decreed that Zoro should set himself against him. More-betray him.

Because wouldn't that be what he was going to do? What he had already started to do? In some way, he would have to gain Sanji's trust and then betray him. And from what he saw, Sanji was already halfway there. Sanji wanted to be friends. Sanji stuck up for him. Sanji Blackleg had his fucking back. Sanji could be his pen pal, his boy scout buddy. They could bake cookies together.

_What the fuck!_

Zoro clenched his fists in frustration and impotent anger, and started to question again his decision in this matter. He didn't know what was what anymore. Except for one thing. He knew that Sanji Blackleg had fucked up his mind. Seriously fucked it up. With his foul manners, his righteousness, his goddamn _idiocy. _Where was the snotty, aristocratic bastard-sonuvabitch-whoreson of Sanji Blackleg?

Wasn't it-But then…_wait-I'm losing it, I'm really losing it. And it's all that idiot's fault-_

"_Goddamn you, you fucking, idiotic, blond, cooking, bastard! Rot in fucking hell for eternity! I hope the devil rips your balls off and wraps them around your goddamn ears, shithead!"_ Zoro yelled suddenly, pounding his fists against the wall.

"_Zoro!_ What's with the anger issues?" A surprised and disapproving voice suddenly spoke up, clucking their tongue in disapproval.

Zoro opened his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, and blearily beheld his fellow gang member, Usopp Sogeking, who had suddenly appeared in the hallway like smoke to witness his brief episode of insanity. "What…?"

Usopp shook his head mournfully, "Good thing, my kids aren't here!" he commented, shaking his head glumly. "How would I've explained that to them? They don't even know that 'crap' isn't a bad word. You're a bad influence, Zoro. Next you'll be selling them cocaine."

Usopp's 'kids' weren't really his kids, they were the three young boys that he had taken in when their parents had died in an arson attack on the building they had lived in. Usopp, feeling compassion, had allowed them to move in with him, after he had found them squabbling for scraps from a trashcan in front of his own shabby hovel. Usopp's own parents had died or left-leaving only a small house behind for their only son. The trio went by the names of Carrot, Onion, and Pepper, to everybody's amusement and chagrin.

"I don't want any rug monkeys anyway.", Zoro muttered back, "I'm going to be one of those parents who has that bumper sticker on his car-_my kid sells weed to your honor student, _watch. Or, '_my kid beat the fucking shit out of your honor student.'_"

"That's terrible, Zoro.", Usopp admonished, playing around with a hole in his overalls, "My kids aren't going to be hanging out with your kids…Anyway-Ace heard the door open and we thought that was you, but then you didn't come out for, like, five minutes, so I went to go check it out in case it was a thief." The sharpshooter said, chest puffing out at his supposed bravery. Zoro rolled his eyes-Ace had probably forced Usopp to go see what was up and the chances that the longnose had hid behind the ornamental palm tree in the hallway until he was certain there was no clear danger, were high.

"That was really kickass of you Usopp." Zoro said, trying to keep the sarcasm in his voice to a bare minimum, "I commend your bravery."

Usopp puffed up even more under the praise and said happily, "I once threw out five robbers from this very house-using only my thumb- oh, hey, I heard you got in a fight?" Usopp looked at him eagerly, hoping to hear another story in which Zoro kicked ass. "Who was it?"

Damn, the system which Water 7 implemented to transmit information which was better said in whispers, was rudimentary, yet effective. The news had traveled faster than himself. "Let's go see Ace. I'd rather tell it only once." Zoro said, "You guys working in the garage?" Usopp nodded happily, and they walked a little further down the corridor to a door on the left which led out into the garage, or the small, dingy thing which liked to call itself a garage.

Ace was sitting down propped against the garage wall, cross-legged. On his knees was a disassembled sawed-off shotgun. He glanced up as they entered and broke into a sunny grin when he saw his green-haired friend, "Hey, Zoro! What happened? Heard you got into a fight! No wonder you didn't answer any of my calls! I was worried for a bit, but I know you."

Zoro slapped palms, "Oh, yeah. It was Sanji Blackleg." _Go for the casual approach, man. Approach with dignity. _

This elicited a burst of good-natured laughter from the freckled man, "Oh man, Zoro! Did you try to fulfill your part of the bet a little too early? Maybe felt up his boner through those cashmere slacks of his? Cop a little feel?"

"Heh. The guy's not that lucky yet." Zoro laughed, "It just kinda happened…He was in my home Ec. class and I tried to talk to him…and I kind of went downhill from there…" Zoro trailed off, thinking that he was definitely not going to tell Ace exactly what had happened. He felt a small pang of guilt as he passed on this half-truth to his best friend. But Zoro knew that Ace wouldn't understand, and would only be upset or pissed if Zoro tried to explain. Upset that he was associating with their self-sworn rivals. Those of the fat moneybag.

Zoro didn't blame him-with Ace's history it was hard for him to trust or accept. Anyway, he didn't know what exactly what to explain- Zoro didn't understand the situation himself.

"Did you win?" Ace asked eagerly, blissfully unaware of these long thoughts currently circling through his best friend's head.

Zoro shook his head, "Security stopped us before we finished."

Ace nearly dropped the shotgun he was holding, looking surprised, "You mean you couldn't beat him before security _came_?"

Zoro shrugged, feeling a twinge of annoyance pass through him again, at that intolerable thought _that he hadn't won. _Really, for some weird reason that nagging thought had seemed to replace the entire bet idea. Call him an immature child with a penchant for completion if you would, but he _should have won._ "He's pretty strong actually."

"But you're Zoro!" Ace looked at him with disbelief, "You telling the prince of Enies Lobby is a bad-ass fighter? Dude, the guy wears a pink apron while he cooks! I've seen him!" Ace looked slightly offended, "With a panda! _A panda!_"

"True shit. The guy fights like some kind of martial artist. Jackie Chan, Caucasian style." Zoro decided that the simpler the explanation, the less room where he could trip up and have Ace catch him in a lie or half-truth. Who had ever known it was so fucking confusing to deceive?

Ace shook his head in confusion, then shrugged, "Well, you just squandered your chances of fucking him then. Thou hast attempted to cozen and seduce the lady fair too soon, dear Zoro."

"Nah, actually he wasn't too mad." Zoro said, walking over and plopping down on a beat-up armchair that Usopp had left in the garage for the sole express purpose of serving him. The chair even had his body-imprint sunken into its dull green cushions.

"Really?" Ace crooked an eyebrow in surprise, then answered himself, "Well, of course not, he wasn't the one suspended."

"No, actually, he was the one suspended, I got off."

This time both Usopp and Ace exclaimed, "What!"

"What, why?" Usopp demanded.

"There were a lot of witnesses. He attacked me first." Zoro said, again dancing just outside the realm of truth, not wanting to give the real reason. Not because he was ashamed at being protected by Sanji, but again because he himself didn't understand the situation or why Sanji had done as he did, and he wanted to examine the whole thing more deeply before he gave the information out to anybody else.

"Well, that's a fucking miracle." Ace said, approval in his voice. "I just can't believe he wasn't mad at you. Did he say anything about this morning?"

"Not really. Just sort of confused about you."

"Well that's good." Ace said and then stood up, setting the now assembled shotgun aside on the floor next to him carefully, "Look, you guys, I need to split. Blackbeard wants to talk with me about something."

"About what?" Zoro asked.

"I can't tell you. Otherwise it's premeditated." Ace said, cockily, and grinned.

"All right, no problem.", Zoro said, taking the subtle hint and backing off. Though they were friends, they still had their own secrets.

Ace turned to Usopp, "9 o' clock then?" Just attach the scope to that thing and bring the ammo."

Usopp nodded.

Ace grabbed his bag of stuff that he always carried around and threw it over his shoulder, "All right I'm leaving now, I'll call up Marcos to give me a ride so you can ride home on your bike." he said to Zoro, "It's in the driveway in case you didn't notice, which knowing you, you probably didn't." He cast a puzzled glance at the green-haired man, "How did you get here anyway?"

"Got a ride from someone." _Yes, from none other than Sanji Blackleg! Chew on that shit for a while Ace!_

Ace nodded "Figured." And then pushed the garage door opener button, the door slowly trundled open with a mechanized grumble. Ace ducked under its opening flap and then turned around as it started to close again, "See ya!" he called with a wave, right before the door cut him off from view.

"See ya, Ace.", Zoro muttered drowsily, before the Sandman took him away. It had been a long day after all.

~0~

Sanji hadn't been there the next day, or the day after that, or the day after _that_. Zoro wasn't sure why he kept expecting the blond man to show up, Zoro knew suspension personally, after all. He was on first name basis with the principle.

But he hadn't even seen Sanji in forever, it just seemed so odd-like the guy had disappeared off the face of the Earth. It seemed too anticlimactic to be trusted-Zoro had been left feeling like something had been left hanging.

It was just plain unhealthy how much time Zoro had devoted to the blond man these last few days. Simply unnatural . He had even asked around to see if he could get any more information on the guy, if he had ever lived in Water 7, that kind of stuff. But nothing of note ever turned up.

Sanji Blackleg was one cool motherfucker, that was undeniably the stone, cold truth. He was friendly and pretty much kickass. And Zoro was already entertaining notions of approaching the guy to get to know him better. As for betting with Ace that Zoro would be able to fuck him backwards-Zoro had put it into a little box, sealed it up, and decided to deal with it later.

Not the greatest remedy for problems that needed to be dealt with, but hey, he was no Dr. Phil.

"Do you always space out like this when you're on date?", an annoyed voice broke into his thoughts as an insistent hand tugged at his shirtsleeve.

_Oh, that's right_. He was supposed to be paying attention to this one chick so that they would feel less troubled when they ripped each other's clothes of and rutted like a pair of dogs.

Zoro laughed and wrapped an arm around Alvida's shoulders, "Sorry, there's so much I have to think about…" They were sitting on his couch in front of his TV, a small blanket thrown over their bodies. They had been giving each other those secretive glances for a while now, and tonight was the night of consummation.

"Oh, Blackbeard?", Alvida asked, running her hand across his jawline, smiling softly.

Zoro closed his eyes and tried not to let out a little moan as Alvida traced her hand across his chest and down his stomach, "Yeah, that and all the shit-" All thoughts of Sanji were neatly shoved to a corner of his mind.

"But let's not talk about that right now, hmm?", Alvida leaned forward, the perfume reaching out and tickling Zoro's nose, she kissed his chin. And suddenly, just like that, Zoro needed her.

He reached out and brought her forward so that he could slide her out of the small shirt she was wearing, "In fact, let's not talk about anything, eh Alvida?"

"Just relish my beauty.", Alvida murmured in his ear, as Zoro busily unhooked her strapless bra, "Tell me how beautiful I am-" She let out a throaty moan as Zoro cupped breast and rubbed her nipple to hardness. He grinned as he heard her absolutely egotistical commands, but then it turned her on to be worshipped. And turned on was to his benefit in the end, wasn't it?

The television blared on in the background, oblivious to their actions.

"You're_ hot_.", he whispered back into her ear, "You're the hottest woman in the world. Everyone wants you.", Zoro pinched her nipple harshly, and Alvida threw back her head and moaned, thrusting her hips out, in an obvious plea to relieve her of the restrictive clothing which was hampering her sex.

He was glad to unbuckle her capris; pushing her down into the couch and lying her flat on her back so that he could lean over her and suck her right tit, licking and biting so that the flesh turned pink.

With his other hand, Zoro unzipped his jeans and slid them down, pausing a moment his caresses of Alvida's body to slide them all the way off and throw off his shirt. Good things his parents were at work all day.

"_Come on,_ Zoro-say my name-", Alvida moaned, jerking her hips up and rubbing her hairless crotch against his own erection; the woman was nearly visibly dripping before his very eyes. It was arousing to watch as Alvida opened her legs wide, her eyes demanding his immediate and aggressive entrance.

Zoro first slipped his fingers in through the moistness, until he felt the silky bud which he knew would make Alvida scream and come, his fingers ghosted over it.

Alvida shuddered and panted, tilting her hips and opening her legs wider so that his fingers could work with ease; Zoro obliged her, and gently rubbed his forefinger over the bud, his other hand teased her entrance, sliding his fingers easily in before slipping out. "You like this?"

"A_ghh_-Zoro, come on-fuck me-tell me-"

He rubbed harder, squeezing her spot between his fingers and drawing his hand out to rub her crotch. Alvida moaned and cried out, her skin blushing prettily, the tumble of black hair falling gorgeously over the couch.

And then, he gripped her thighs, and slid his erection in, leaning over her so that they could kiss, or at least lick each other's mouths. The first thrusts made Alvida cry out and claw at his back in vain, he'd have scratches there later.

She wasn't vain for nothing; Zoro drew back for a moment so he could drink the sight of her nakedness, big breasts with dark nipples, skin a nice peach, curves with not an ounce of superfluous fat on them. Alvida was fucking _sexy._ No Hancock Boa, but hey, no one was.

There was a small half-smile playing around Alvida's lips, as Zoro began to thrust his body in slow, languid motions, letting the leisure play with their arousals for a while. She was no doubt relishing his need to see her, relishing her own beauty. Selfish bitch. But then, he was a chronic bastard himself.

And she was beautiful, lying there underneath him as they fucked. Her skin was flushed and sweaty, breasts perky with the force of gravity, nipples still glistening with his saliva. Hair a mess, and the curls closest to her face stuck to the side of her face with her own sweat. Looking both utterly sated and absolutely reveling in pleasure.

Another slow thrust, in which both of them let out small sighs, and Zoro suddenly found himself wondering if Sanji would look the same way when he, Zoro, was finally screwing him, fulfilling his part of the bet. If he's look like that.

Sanji, who had looked the same way as Alvida when they had been fighting. Pink with fury, and under. Both sweaty, handsome creatures, drunk with their own life.

Head thrown back in ecstasy instead of exertion, moans of lust instead of pain, soft hands running over his body eagerly pulling him closer, not trying to push him off. Sanji's smile hovered above Alvida's. Blonde fought with black.

Zoro gave a little half-moan as the scene came to life inside his mind, and Alvida's smile grew, mistaking his vocal as one for her own benefit. But once thought, the scene would not go away, on the contrary, it was becoming more and more detailed by the second with the help of his traitorous subconscious, and his cock, already inside Alvida's heat, throbbed.

Sanji would be pink and sweaty as he lay on top of him, hair a golden mess on the couch, peachy skin flushed prettily, and his head turned in profile in total capitulation, as he moved inside, thrusting hips so that they both cried out. Sanji, whom he hadn't beaten.

Zoro gripped Alvida's sides and sent himself deep, fast; and Alvida, unprepared for the sudden thrust, cried out loudly. But she wasn't female anymore, and Zoro was fucking sure that Sanji Blackleg could take this. This was what he said he was going to do, so why not-

_Come on- _

Blond man with curly eyebrows, strong muscular abdomen, defined pectorals. Dirty mouth.

Alvida smiled up at him, liking the assault on her body, small grunts escaping her mouth each time Zoro fucked her. Talking had long ago ceased it seemed.

She came first, the muscles in her legs and thighs tensed tightly and then relaxed, her pants froze and shuddered.

Zoro didn't mind her coming, he wasn't finished, and Alvida cried out again and again as he refused to let her recuperate. He could take it, after all.

_Come on, fucking Sanji_.

Sanji Blackleg would be tighter than this woman underneath him, he'd be on fire, burning, tighter, everything. It'd be fun to see the blond shudder and whimper as Alvida was doing. Struggle and strain impotently as he had been doing. _So _fun.

He stilled as he felt orgasm shudder and rip its way through his groin and mind, the tension running off, carried away with his spurting semen.

Alvida reached up and pulled him close, humming sweetly. Zoro lets himself snuggle with her for a while; and for once, he's feeling more confused than sated. But the thoughts are eluding him, and Zoro decides to let them go, this once. There's nothing much to be worried about when he's lying in the arms of a beautiful woman.

But is nagged. A small but steady worm, eating its nefarious way to the innermost realms of his psyche.

_What…?_

~0~

At Usopp's again.

This time, it was just him and the longnose, since Franky and Robin were most likely banging each other in some remote area and Ace was probably burning something down.

Zoro shifted more comfortably in the armchair he had been lazily wallowing in for the better part of an hour and glanced at Usopp. The sharpshooter was sitting on the floor and was attempting to attach the scope onto some sort of rifle. His tongue was out and his eyes were squinting through a pair of ridiculous goggles in concentration. A comfortable silence was between them.

It was a day after his date with Alvida, and the most he's done is get himself confused even more than usual. Sanji just simply refused to go away. Goddamn man was worse than a hookworm taped to his ducking large intestine.

After a while of listening to Usopp quietly curse the stubborn scope, Zoro felt himself beginning to drift off inevitably to the land of sleep and dreams, where a suspiciously familiar blonde figure was beckoning him, to come and fight bastard moss, and spoke up sleepily, "Hey, Usopp."

_I think about this kid too much. It's not good for the damn health. I need to get some closure on this. Talk to someone…_Usopp's no Maury, but Zoro didn't think he needed a paternity test.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever been in that kind of situation, where you can't stop thinking about someone, for even one second?" Zoro asked drowsily, and then jerked awake as he heard the crash of Usopp dropping the heavy gun he had been holding and looked up to see the shooter ogling him like he saw something green...that wasn't his hair.

The long-nosed man was openly gaping at him, after a few seconds of his mouth opening and closing like a fish, Usopp finally gasped out, "Shit Zoro! Don't scare me like that!"

Zoro frowned at him, jolted awake from his right-about-to-sleep mood, "What's wrong with you? Did I ask you if you had genital warts or what?"

Usopp picked up his gun and then said nervously, "Well, that hardly sounds like something you would say. That's kind of sounds like, um, _love._ I mean, you and Ace don't really…you know…kings of promiscuity and all that."

"I'm just asking. Fuck." Zoro said, and turned away, burying his face in the armchair cushions, making a mental note to find a reason to kick Usopp's ass before the week was over.

There was silence for a moment and then finally Zoro heard Usopp say in a muffled voice, "Um, Zoro-I do, uh, think about someone like that."

He turned back, surprised. Usopp was fixedly not looking at him, but was studying the weapon in his hand as though he had never seen it before.

"Yeah?" Zoro prompted.

The longnosed man finally glanced at him, and then sighed, "I don't even know why I'm going to tell you this, but you have to swear not to tell anyone. You hear me? You can't tell anyone. Not even Ace."

Zoro nodded. "I won't"

Usopp studied Zoro's serious expression for a while and then nodded back, "Ok. Listen." He said, and then fell paradoxically silent. A minute passed in which Usopp seemed to be struggling to find the right words. Zoro was right about to prompt him again, but Usopp suddenly spoke up again. "I've been in love with this one girl for five years." he confessed. "And I mean, _in love."_

"Damn." Zoro said respectfully. "Why aren't you with her? And who's the girl?" _And how does this answer my question? I meant,' think about', not, 'love'._

"Her name's Kaya Merry." Usopp continued, as though he hadn't heard Zoro at all. "She's the most beautiful, most amazing girl you'll ever meet." He sighed and looked down at his dirty hands, "She's an angel. Like, I _know _I don't deserve her."

_Kaya?_ The name rung a faint bell of recognition in Zoro's mind. But for some fucking reason he associated that name with Sanji. But he seemed to see Sanji everywhere now, including _underneath him in bed_, so Zoro guessed it was just his fucked up mind playing games with him. He didn't mention it to the sharpshooter, Usopp seemed to be in his own dimension.

"We met five years ago…At the funeral of her mother. I was working at the funeral parlor as a janitor, I was taking out all the trash and this funeral was going on, and so I was interested to see who had died, sounds morbid, I know, but I've seen worse, believe me, and then I was walking around the mourners and then…"

Usopp paused and took a deep breath, his eyes were shining softly, no doubt reliving the moment he had first seen the woman of his dreams. "and then…I saw her. I haven't looked at another woman since. Zoro, I fell so hard and so deep for her. She was crying and so her dad asked her to step outside for a moment and I followed her. I comforted her and took her in my arms…In these arms!" Usopp held his arms wide to demonstrate. "And then she stopped crying, asked my name, told me hers, told me it was her mom's funeral, then she gave me her number and went back inside."

"Well then why aren't you with her?" Zoro asked, he still couldn't seem to see the bad part. Maybe it was just him.

"She's from Enies Lobby." Usopp said abruptly as though that explained everything, and seemed to return to reality with an unpleasant jolt. He picked up the shotgun, with scope attached now, and gave it an appraising look over. But it was a look which was too cold and calculated for Zoro's taste. And it seemed to go beyond the metal weapon.

Zoro was dumbfounded, "What! That's all? Just because she's from Enies Lobby doesn't mean shit!" The words stunk badly of hypocrisy. But he didn't care; what mattered was that Usopp, his friend, was being fucked over by life.

Usopp glared at him, "Don't be naïve. You know how big of a gap is between us. And for your information, I did go see her off and on for a year. Her father found out and had be put in jail for 'trespassing', 'harassment' and god knows what else. It was only for a week, but still, it was _humiliating_. Shit, Zoro, I thought you'd understand." The sharpshooter angrily jerked the gun's barrel open and peered inside.

"No, I do." Zoro protested and with no idea he was going to say it opened his mouth and blurted, "I like someone who lives in Enies Lobby too." God…how many more feet could he get into his mouth? A couple hundred? A few fucking million? Yes, he _liked _Sanji Blackleg, maybe a little too much for it to be healthy. But liked in the buddy-buddy-guy sense. As in the horsing around, shoving each other, tearing each other's nutsacks off sense. Usopp_ liked_ Kaya in the nuzzling, giving roses on Valentine's, kissing, touchy-touchy sense. Simply put, Usopp's _like _wasn't _his_ like.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-_

Usopp opened his eyes wide and made a little strangled sound, "No shit? And then answered himself immediately, "Yeah, I think so. That's why you're asking all this sentimental stuff, isn't it?"

Zoro made a choked sound in the back of his throat and managed to croak out, "Yeah. That's pretty much why." He might as well roll with the shit. What did they say you were supposed to do when you caught fire? Stop, drop, and roll? That's what he was doing now, rolling it. Hopefully the fire would extinguish itself with the goddamn urine of his utter idiocy.

Usopp was looked delighted, "No wonder you never settled down with anyone, even though everyone wants you! Who is it? Nami? I _thought_ you were watching her a little oddly at lunch! I mean, you were _fixated."_

"Uh, no, it's not…Nami." _Hahahaha, Wrong! It's Sanji Blackleg, motherfucker! You do not get the stuffed bear!_

_This is going to drive me insane. Mark my damn words. _

"Who?" Usopp demanded, eager. Oblivious.

"I'd rather not say…" Zoro mumbled, his face heating up again. His mind still in confusing shambles. How could he tell Usopp that he did like someone, that someone was a guy, but he liked him not in the way that Usopp liked Kaya. That he liked him in the way that Usopp liked Ace, or in the way Usopp liked a good, comfortable condom?

Usopp looked disappointed, but nodded, "All right, you can tell me on your own time. And before you ask, yeah, I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks." Zoro croaked. He stood up and wobbled unsteadily on his feet, wondering if this day could get any weirder. "I think I'll go home now." _I need to find my sanity, you see. I seem to have dropped it somewhere._

"Yeah, see you tomorrow. We can catch a game or something on the tube."

Zoro nodded and pushed the garage door open, stepping out into the driveway and waved at Usopp who was now fiddling around with a smaller automatic pistol, and then the door shut, cutting Usopp from view and leaving Zoro alone with his jumble of confused thoughts.

~0~

**Author's Note-Chapter 6 Revised. :X Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


	7. The Dark Face of Water 7

Chapter Seven

The Dark Face of Water 7

Late at night in summer heat. Expensive car, empty street  
There's a wire in my jacket. This is my trade  
It only takes a moment, don't be afraid  
I can hotwire an ignition like some kind of star  
I'm just a poor boy in a rich man's car  
So I whisper to the engine, flick on the lights  
And we drive into the night

Oh the smell of the leather always excited my imagination  
And I picture myself in this different situation  
I'm a company director, two kids and a wife  
I get the feeling that there's more to this one's life  
There's some kind of complication, he tells her he's alone  
Spends the night with his lover, there's a trace of her cologne  
And the words of his mistress, as she whispers them so near  
Start ringing in my ear

_-"Stolen Car (Take me Dancing)", Sting_

~0~

Though Zoro knew that Sanji was suspended, part of him was still expecting to see that head of blond hair sitting between the other two blondes whenever he walked into class. It would have seemed perfectly natural to see the black suit in class. Sanji Blackleg was too cool to be tied down with suspicions, he was too cool to follow orders.

But the seat was empty time and time again.

Zoro walked over to Luffy, Brooke, and Kohza, and threw himself into his seat, pausing only to throw a scathing look at Krieg's members. Gin and Pearl glared back, their looks pure venom. If there wasn't a fight soon then all this tension was going to turn all their heads white. Zoro thought he could take Gin easy. And though Pearl was a big guy, Zoro knew he could take him too.

Luffy was pouting. His lower lip was stuck out ridiculously and his arms were crossed sulkily across his chest. He looked like the world's biggest five-year-old. Zoro laughed, "What's wrong Luffy?"

"Sanji's still not here!" Luffy sulked. Zoro, in the process of tilting back his chair, nearly fell out of it. This was not good for the heart. Did that blond have to trail his footsteps every day?

"So?" he managed, scratching distractedly at the skin of his elbow even though it didn't even itch.

"Now I can't eat good food!" Luffy cried, waving his arms around. "I made sure I took this class with him, so I could eat good food, and now he's absent!" His tone was indignant, like he had been horribly cheated out of something very precious. But then, to Luffy, food _was_ precious.

"You know him…this Sanji Blackleg?" Zoro asked, carefully. He had had no idea that Luffy even looked at Sanji.

"Yeah!" Luffy nodded happily, "He's my cook!"

"Sanji's…your cook?" Zoro asked, feeling like he was missing something. Did Luffy own a restaurant now, or what? And since when was Luffy so buddy-buddy with Sanji Blackleg? How come he'd never met Sanji before this then? Why had Luffy never introduced Sanji to him? He felt a little, well, _cheated_. Maybe things would have been different if he had known Sanji before. Hell, things _would _have been different.

Luffy had a big smile on his face, oblivious to it all, "Yeah! He said that he would come with me when I went to Somalia! We're gonna go on a big cruise together and he's gonna be my cook!"

When the hell had all this happened? There was a gnawing, nagging creature in his chest that was complaining loudly about something he had no idea what about.

"Oh, really?" Zoro asked Luffy, ominously. Even though he really had no beef with Luffy, something coarse and clearly undefined urged him to shake Luffy until something snapped. Why? Fucked if he knew.

Luffy was expanding warmly under what he thought was sincere interest, "We're gonna fish and keep the fresh fish in an aquarium on board, and Sanji is gonna cook it! Then, at night, we'll watch the stars and Sanji said he'll teach me to swim!"

Brooke and Kohza we're listening indulgently to the strawhat, "Don't let him run on, Zoro," Kohza warned, "He'll talk all day about his adventures with that idiot blond if you let him."

"Sanji is _not_ an idiot!" Luffy said in a menacing voice that was rather effective despite his pouting lower lip. Kohza laughed nervously, unsure whether Luffy was serious or not. But then people who had known Luffy for his whole life weren't always sure about the strawhat.

The bell cut across the rest of their conversation, and the bickering trio turned expectantly to the front where Shanks- Zoro was already coming to think of him as that- was sitting at his teacher's deck. The red-haired man was sporting a pout that was reminiscent of Luffy. "Argh, do what you want today students." Shanks said listlessly, "Sanji's not here and that means no food for me." It was amazing how close the teacher's thoughts ran to Luffy's. Maybe they were distantly related.

There was some murmuring from the class, but the classroom quickly filled with laughter and chatter.

Kohza turned to him, his purple-tinted glassed flashing, high-lighting the scar which ran across his eye. Zoro glanced at it, curious; he had never asked him about it. And in an effort to forget about Luffy's apparently intimate ties with Sanji, "Hey, Kohza, how'd you get that scar? I can't believe I never asked you."

Kohza's hand reached up and traced the bumpy line of scar tissue, "This? I'll tell you later if you want to know. Can't right now." His eyes flickered to appraise the other gang members in the room.

Zoro understood at once, "Of course."

"Ah, there was something that I heard yesterday that I wanted to tell you Zoro, that's why I called, but you didn't answer."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I was in fight, you heard about it."

Kohza nodded, "Sanji Blackleg. Well anyway, our source in the police department passed on an interesting piece of information about the future developments of the police politics that that might involve us."

"What happened?" Brooke was listening intently too, he was a strikingly tall black man, seventeen like them, and another member of Blackbeard's creed.

"Apparently Captain Nezumi quit yesterday." Kohza's look was dark.

Zoro hissed between his teeth in annoyance. Nezumi was-_had _been-the captain of the police department for ten years now. He was a thin guy with a face of a rat, and with an insatiable desire for money.

Early on, he had been approached by most gang members and bribed. A steady stream of illegal money flowed into Nezumi's wallet, with the agreement that he would look the other way when it came to Water 7. And for extra fees, he would make secret calls to gang leaders when a search and seize warrant on their property was issued, so that they had time to get rid of any illegal substances they might have.

Though Zoro trusted Nezumi as much as he liked him, he had to admit that Nezumi had made things flow much easier and allowed his own 'assignments' to be possible. Though lately, there had been disquieting rumors that the rat-face had been working exclusively for Arlong's gang.

"Shit!" Zoro muttered, "Who's stepping up? Is it Fullbody?"

"Worse." Kohza said darkly, "The new captain is going to be transferred in from Lougetown."

"Louge-" Zoro repeated, "Oh, _fuck_." Lougetown was another city a couple hours drive from Grand Line. It had been a rather dangerous ghetto, until the new Captain had come in and cleaned it up in a matter of months. Said Captain was now transferring and making Grand Line his exclusive jurisdiction. "Don't tell me it's Smoker."

"Ace in one." Kohza grated, "You win the stuffed bear."

"Fuck. _Fuck!_"

"Rumor has it that he's having dealings with neither gang members nor rich Enies Lobby assholes," Brooke broke in, leaning closer and pitching his voice lower, "And he hates the Schichibukai."

Zoro raised his eyebrows in disbelief, he had expected the part about the gang members, but refusing to deal with the Schichibukai was crossing a line, especially for him and his as Blackbeard was a Schichibukai. Schichibukai stood for 'seven warlords'; code name for the seven drug lords of Water 7. They were men so powerful and influential that the government had struck up secret deals with them.

In exchange for relative freedom to do as they pleased, the 'Warlords' controlled their turfs and repressed other criminals and illegal activity that didn't pertain to them.

Blackbeard had taken the slot of a fallen Shichibukai a little more than two years ago; the man had called himself Crocodile and had attempted to undermine the very government he worked for by seizing control of a small city. Everything had gone perfect, until Crocodile had been discovered in a secret subterranean grotto, beaten half to death. The vigilante had never been discovered.

Small guys like Arlong and Krieg couldn't even wish to be a Shichibukai. Zoro himself had only met four of the seven; there was Blackbeard of course, then Donquixote Donflamingo-a flamboyant blonde which specialized in human trafficking and other nefarious schemes, he had met him a little over a year ago. Then there was Gecko Moria-a huge man with a large force at his command-he had been introduced to when he had been going steady with Perona, who was his daughter. Last was Boa Hancock-the most beautiful woman Zoro had ever seen, and the most dangerous. He had a thing with her but then had been dumped almost immediately, because Hancock had breathlessly told him that she had found her true love in another man. Though he had never seen this mystery man and who probably didn't even exist.

The other three were Jimbei, Barthomelew Kuma, and Juraquille Mihawk.

Zoro swallowed audibly as the last name went through his head. Juraquille Mihawk. The man he had spent how many of his years looking for? Just his name was sufficient to have the hairs on his neck ripple in anticipation.

"Yeah, he wants nothing to do with them." Kohza's voice broke through the fog, "And he's fucking powerful."

"He has to be." Zoro said shortly, "He cleaned up Lougetown, didn't he?"

"What are we going to do about this shit?" Brooke asked, his eyes, behind small round sunglasses, looked a trifle worried. "The Supernovas are just looking for an excuse to step up and take the Shichibukai's place."

Here was another stratum in the dark hierarchy that defined Water 7. The Supernovas were another code term for the eight men and one woman who had made staggering progress in power in the recent years. They were nowhere near the power level of the Seven Warlords, but their stunning growth and potential assured that in a few more years they would be. Their nine wanted posters hung in the post offices and police departments, their laughing faces seeming to glare out at their audiences in unspoken challenge.

The funny thing was, that Zoro knew that soon his own mug shot would be hanging next to theirs. Blackbeard had assured him that once he was out of school, his real career would start. The tenth supernova.

Zoro could name them and their bounties by heart. Not sure if it was in disgust or admiration.

Eustass 'Captain' Kidd. $3,150,000

'The Magician' Basil Hawkins $2,490,000

Capone 'Gang' Bege. $1,380,000

'Big Eater' Jewelry Bonney. $1,400,000

'Roar of the Sea' Scrathman Apoo. $1,980,000

'Red Flag' X Drake $2,220,000

'Mystery Monk' Uroge $1,080,000

'Massacre Man' Killer $1,620,000

'Dark Doctor' Trafalgar law $2,000,000

It was enough to confuse and occupy his mind for the rest of the week, but even this could not keep his mind off the one man.

Zoro's eyes continued to stray inexorably to the empty seat in the front.

~0~

Friday already. The days had passed slower than Zoro could have believed possible, but finally the week had come to a close.

It had been the weirdest, strangest, and most fucked up week Zoro had ever had in his entire life. There had been a few more whisperings about the new Captain transferring in and distressing rumors of Supernova movement. Water 7 had battened down its shutters and seemed to be waiting expectantly for something to happen. Gang activity had slowed down in its bleak streets; it felt like the calm before the storm.

And then there had been the question of the blond cook. Zoro had thought that as the days passed, and his busy life took over, Sanji would recede from the front of his mind; but just the opposite had happened-each day Zoro's thoughts would turn inward to wonder about the blond enigma, so much that Ace had to call his name a few times to get his attention.

Though the vacant seat in his fifth period Home Economics class had been a nagging bother to him throughout the week, in the end Zoro had been glad of it. Sanji's absence had allowed himself to attempt to organize his thoughts and put them in some sort of semblance and to sort through the tumult of emotions in his mind. And Zoro had come up with a definitive answer to whatever questions he might have been asking himself Monday.

He liked Sanji a lot. True. He most definitely did not like Sanji in any sort of romantic way. Also true.

There had been a little strange, magical fuckery in which he had been thinking about Sanji during sex, but that had only been as a result of equally strange brain circuits which thought in weird ways at weird moments. It happened to the best of them.

The guy was all-right as a person. Sanji, if their lives had been different, might have been his best friend.

But their lives_ were_ different.

If he was an idiot enough to pretend otherwise then he might end up even worse then he started up.

And that was that. Thinking of Sanji while he was with Alvida had been the product of a strenuous day and his own teenage hormones.

At least that's what Zoro told himself when he couldn't get to sleep at night for thinking about it; and what he told himself when he woke up in his bed with the tail end of dreams in which he fought with Sanji over and over and over.

~0~

Sunday found Zoro lying on his back on Robin's bed, watching her organize her room. He had dropped Ace off at his apartment and declined an invitation to go get burritos with the freckled man. Ace had given him a confused look but had nodded and dropped the subject. Instead Zoro had gone home with Robin.

Robin had looked a little surprised but had made no comment when Zoro parked his bike in front of her apartment complex and followed her inside. They had talked quietly of small things and then Robin had made a small dinner for both of them, and together they had cleaned up.

And now there was a comfortable silence as the two friends contemplated different things thoughtfully.

After a while, Robin spoke up in her low, musical voice, "What's on your mind Zoro?"

This is why he had gone with Robin. Robin was someone he could actually talk to. Ace was his best friend, but Ace wouldn't understand, Zoro was sure of it. He sighed and took his time answering Robin's question because to say the truth, he didn't know the answer. If he had, he wouldn't be here in the first place. "I don't really know." he said, hesitatingly.

Robin was busy arranging a flower display in a vase, "Ah." Her dark hair obscured her face, and Zoro was at a loss to discern her thoughts, though her voice was neutral enough. "Does have something to do with Perona?"

Zoro gaped at Robin for a second before bursting into laughter; Perona was the farthest thing from his severely taxed mind. Perona Moria, had been one of his past girlfriends, a seventeen year old with impossibly long and curled hair, dyed a bright pink. It had been a rather strange relationship; Zoro had gotten spectacularly drunk to the point of incapacity one night at a rave and had woken up with the strange pink-haired girl on a mattress in the back of a room with swirled memories of having had bondage sex. Zoro had thought that of it as no more than a one night stand, but Perona had thought otherwise. The creepy ghost girl, or so Zoro thought of her, had guilt-tripped him into officially asking her out and becoming a couple. For some weird reason, every time he was around her, Zoro felt like a worthless piece of shit, and couldn't bring himself to break up with her.

Usopp, with Zoro's pleading insistence, had finally managed to knock some sense into her and had made her stay away from him. Zoro wasn't sure what exactly the sharpshooter had done, because he had given Usopp specific instructions to not physically harm the bitch, but whatever he had done had worked, and Perona hadn't bothered him since, except for the occasional groping he suffered whenever they encountered each other by chance at some party.

Needless to say, Perona Moria was the farthest thing from his mind.

Robin was smiling her little smile which everyone but her closest, _closest_ friends found unfathomable. Zoro knew it meant that the owner was personally amused. "Perona is _not_ who I'm thinking about." Zoro finally managed to say after he had stopped laughing, wiping away tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes.

"I knew that," Robin said in her fine, cultured voice, "But I wanted to see you smile."

Zoro was touched. "Thanks Ro." His nickname for her.

Robin nodded, "Then who are you thinking about so deeply that you've been so distracted lately?"

Zoro looked up at her, startled, "It shows?"

"Just to those who care about you." Robin mused, "So are you going to tell me who has been occupying your mind so persistently?"

Zoro frowned at her thoughtfully, struck by a sudden intuition, "I think you already know." He flipped over onto his stomach on her bed and peered at her in accusation.

Robin's smile became enigmatic, "I have my suspicions. And we've known each other for a long time."

"Well, what do you think about…it?" Zoro said tensely. He couldn't bring himself to say that name out loud. Not yet, anyway.

Robin's hands moved among the bustle of flowers and green ferny leaves, delicately, arranging the flowery display in perfect designs. Zoro watched, spellbound. Robin's smooth voice fell on his ears, like soothing water, "Well Zoro, when one finds one questioning their actions when they have never had cause to do so before, then one knows that there is something wrong with whatever they are doing."

"So you're saying that I shouldn't-"

"However, questions of morality are not something that this person is so confused and worried over. " Robin cut him off smoothly, "If it was such, then things would be much easier for this person. But when the problem is over the realization that they've found someone that they could possibly care about-"

"W-What? _Care about?_ Care about how _exactly_?" Zoro spluttered, struggling up, he could feel the blood crashing into his cheeks, "Oi, what the fuck Ro-"

"I spoke to Franky. He saw your fight. And when you both went up to Sengoku's office. Thinking that you might need a ride, because he knew Ace had taken your only form of transportation, he waited patiently for you to show up in the parking lot. But he left when he saw you already had a ride home." Robin said calmly.

Zoro's face had been slowly draining of color as Robin spoke, and by the time she had finished, the crimson stain which had previously stained his cheeks had drained out, leaving him pale under his deep tan. "Did Franky tell anyone?" he demanded, feeling a feeler of fright invade his lower gut. Zoro hated feeling so weak and nervous, but he was shaken to the core. He punched a pillow viciously, "I'll kill the bastard." Why? He wasn't sure, but somehow the situation called for bloody murder of blue haired used car mechanics.

"Nobody but me." Robin said and smiled, a trifle evilly, "I convinced him not to spread that particular piece of gossip."

Before Zoro could even form a coherent thought, Robin had resumed speaking in her calm, know-all voice, "So when one finds their preference, it is all very well. But what could further confuse this person, is the simultaneous discovery that they have found the person that they've searched for their entire life-"

"Whoa! Fucking stop!", Zoro held out his hands in a t-shape, like a referee calling a stop for break-time, "That's taking it too far! What the hell do you mean about _preference_? Friend, yes. Care about, okay, maybe. My fucking soul mate? I've found weirder things in my_ shit_-"

"Yes, I'm sure you've been thinking so deeply about pieces of shit, Zoro." Robin said sweetly, then continued her narrative after glancing at the embarrassed expression on her green-haired friend's face "So if that is not enough for our poor, lost person, these revelations have come just hours after they have agreed to play a rather harsh prank on this person."

"Well, how in the hell was I supposed to know that he was like that?" Zoro demanded, kicking at Robin's tasteful wicker hamper. "No wonder this guy's so _poor_ and _lost_. Screw this, he's just going to give up."

"They have to." Robin answered gently, "It's stopped being a small prank if it _ever _was. This is Water 7 hitting back at Enies Lobby and spitting in the eye of fate. Water 7 wants to see him hurt and betrayed, to them it is fair that he should be so, as revenge for their own bleak destiny. They want to see you destroy him. To not do so would be like a direct betrayal to your own kind. They'd never forgive you."

Her words clanged around in his skull sharply. Zoro looked at her, disbelieving, he felt like someone had drugged him and Robin's judgmental voice and apocalyptical manner of speaking made him feel like the end of the world was approaching. "What's left then?" he demanded, hearing his voice as if from a long distance.

Robin's hands finally left the flowers and stilled at her sides, "They must choose between Water 7 and the person. Choose one and abandon the other forever." She refused to look at him. And Zoro didn't think he would have been able to meet her gaze if she had.

Zoro wanted to laugh and say _'You're just joking right? This can't be happening, right? Please tell me this isn't happening. Come on Ro. This isn't some cheap, corny movie, is it? Is it?' _

Robin seemed to understand some of what was going through his head; her dark eyes were full of compassion as she looked at him gently, "Life isn't easy Zoro."

"Why does it have to be like this?" Zoro said, "Why does it have to be so fucking_ cruel_?" Suddenly it seemed monstrous that things should be so.

"Now you're learning the value of regret and self-hate?" Robin said, "Just now you're learning that you might have been hurting people your entire life? It all changes when it turns on someone you care about, doesn't it?" She turned and her black eyes fairly danced in satirical glee. And what Zoro hated the most was that she was right; he deserved it. He fucking deserved it. He had sown bitter fruit, and now, did he really have a right to complain if the fruit tasted like acrid tears?

"Shut up!" Zoro grated, "You seemed pretty happy about it when we agreed to fuck his life up!" It was the best comeback he had, and Zoro had to admit it was a pretty lame justification. But he couldn't help thinking about all those times when he had stolen cars from the Enies Lobby section or had beaten the shit out of people and robbed them. Ace and he had both solemnly agreed that it had been righteous payback for all the wrongs perpetrated on them and their kind. What the hell had they been thinking?

"Do you think you're the only one who has been questioning themselves?" Robin countered, her voice so gentle that it was the whiplash which stung the most.

"What-Well, what the fuck do I do about this?" Zoro leaped off the bed and seized Robin's delicate shoulders, not quite daring to shake her, but feeling like it, "How the hell do I get out of it?" Suddenly desperate. '_Oh, will all Neptune's oceans wash this blood from off these hands?' _ Who had said that? And it seemed that Robin had the answers to everything at this minute. She _must _have them. _Must. _

_I'm a soldier, these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge, I'll never fall or fold up, I'm a soldier, even if my collar bone's crush or crumble, I will never slip or stumble, I'm a soldier-_

Zoro jumped in surprise as Eminem's angry voice rang out in the apartment, his rage muffled by Zoro's pocket. Zoro dug into his jeans pocket, letting go of Robin in the process, and pulled out his battered cell phone. Flipping it open, he saw caller ID identifying the caller as 'Blackbeard'. He couldn't repress the shudder of disgust which wracked his body whenever he saw that name, even though he had been in the gang for a long time now. Blackbeard never called to ask how his health was. Or to invite him his son's birthday party.

"Blackbeard." Zoro commented briefly to Robin and then pressed the SEND button and raised it to ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Zoro! How've you been swordsman?" This was followed a harsh, guttural laugh that sent a cold finger down his spine. It seemed like the devil had just taken notice of him.

"Been all right. You?"

"I've never been better Zoro! But I'm glad you're fine, I need you in top form to do this next assignment." Again, that bestial laughter which raised the hackles on the back of Zoro's neck.

Once, a gang member that had thought he was chummy enough with Blackbeard had jokingly asked him why he laughed so much and at everything. Blackbeard had laughed long and hard at that, and then pulled out a Magnum .345 and had shot the unfortunate man between the eyes. The man had died with a smile on his face and a bewildered look on his face. And then Blackbeard had laughed and laughed until tears ran down his face and his huge hairy belly shook alarmingly. The story had quickly become a legend.

"Tell me what to do." Zoro said. He had learned quickly that to small talk Blackbeard was something that could earn him a trip to the hospital. Or the funeral parlor. Plus, he had no desire to remain in any sort of contact with a man he believed to be completely insane.

"24759 Yuba Street. Man by the name of Cabaji Acrobax. Owes us $46,500. Heroin. His due date is today. I expect the money tomorrow." And the phone went dead in his hand.

Zoro flipped it shut and looked at Robin, "I have to go."

Robin nodded, "I'll take you. You'd get lost if you went by yourself."

"I have to stop by my place first so I can pick them up."

Robin needed no clarification, "I know." She said simply.

~0~

Zoro slammed Cabaji's head into the garage wall, his hands clamped around the pale man's neck, hard enough to cause Cabaji to breath in harsh, shallow gasps. His frightened eyes bugged out of his face, and the sweat pooled in the wrinkles of his forehead.

"Look Cabaji, I'm being nice," Zoro purred, "You don't want me to turn serious do you?" His hands ran down to grip Cabaji's shoulders in a grip that belied his words.

Cabaji looked terrified and he shook his head frantically, his eyes were both effectively blackened and his lips were cut and swollen. No one would be kissing the acrobat soon. Not that he had been kissing handsome before. But that was neither here nor there.

"Well then, help me help you." Zoro said, smiling in a conspiratorial way, "Our boss needs his $46 K." His tone was darkly jovial. Just between friends.

"I d-d-don't have the money!" Cabaji gasped out, "I have nothing!" He was shaking hard, not only because he was being terrorized by a hardened gang member, but because the man had plugged $46,500 dollars of heroin into his veins and the money had run out, just when his body had become greedy for the manmade substance. Withdrawal was a bitch. Zoro had a small twinge of pity, he had been in that particular piece of hell.

But Cabaji was telling the truth. The man was too scared and fucked up to lie. This could be a problem then. Zoro's eyes wandered around the garage. He had dragged the frightened man into the enclosed space as soon as Cabaji had opened the door, a wary look in his eyes. A bottle green Lexus was parked inside, its wheel rims glowed richly and Zoro couldn't see a spot of filth on its shiny and waxed body. Hey, maybe Blackbeard would be getting his money anyway.

"Oi, Ro, how much do you think a beautiful car like this is worth?"

"You can't-" Cabaji squawked, but Zoro rammed a knee into his crotch, and his weak protest was interrupted by a scream of pain. He didn't particularly like hitting men in the jewels, but some guys just didn't qualify to be included in his codes of honor.

Robin had floated in after Zoro as he dragged and simultaneously pummeled the heroin addict into the dark garage, and was now leaning against the doorframe, watching. At her feet was a long thin case. "I would say around $65-70 thousand."

"Right." Zoro said, "Hear that, asshole? We're taking your Lexus. Give me the keys."

Cabaji was still incapable of speaking, but he shook his head weakly.

Zoro sighed. Some just did not _get _it. Though Zoro thought it more a weak-spirited obstinacy that actual bravery. "Ro, pass me my case, will you? The bitch here needs some

encouragement."

Robin leaned down and picked up the black case and walked over to hand it to Zoro. He let go of Cabaji so he could take his case and stepped back. The acrobat, losing the support that held him to the wall, immediately slid halfway down, his hands automatically sinking down to cradle his aching balls.

Zoro spun off the lid of his case and slid out one of its three inhabitants.

Cababji looked up when a long blade slid under his chin and tilted his face up to meet the black gaze of the man before him. A long polished sword was grasped in the hand of the man, and from his vantage point he dully noted that it looked sharp indeed. As if to reinforce this idea, Cabaji felt the pressure at his throat sharpen until pressure became pain and he felt warm blood run down his neck.

"You wondering why the fuck I have a sword? Why I don't have a gun?" Zoro's voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Kind of strange isn't it? I mean, this isn't feudal Japan, it's fucking LA."

Cabaji seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the ebony eyes of the swordsman. They were so black, they didn't seem to have pupils. He wanted desperately to swallow the saliva in his throat, but was overcome by the conviction that if he did, then the upward motion of his adam's apple would drive the sword into his jugular and the last thing he would see would be the haunted gaze of this damned man.

Spittle dribbled down from the corners of his mouth.

"I'll tell you why I don't use a gun. It's too neat." The words drifted on the air, full of malice. "Guns take one bullet to kill. Swords take their time."

Cabaji whimpered, deep in his throat, unable to stop himself.

"You want to hand over those keys?"

Cabaji thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a key-ring. A set of keys were attached to a cute plush clown. He held them up, and Zoro withdrew his blade and took them. "Don't move from there." He ordered curtly and slid his katana back into its sheath, and slid that back into the case.

He turned and opened the car door, sliding inside smoothly, pausing only to throw the case into the backseat. Zoro saw Robin press something on the wall, and assumed it was the garage opener because the door began its ascent; she then walked over and got in the shotgun seat.

Zoro slid the key with the Lexus insignia off the key ring, lowered the window, and threw the rest of the keys at Cabaji, it hit him in the chest and bounced into his lap. Zoro noticed with sour amusement that somewhere along the line, Cabaji had wet himself. He was now crying steadily, silently.

"Don't call the police." Zoro warned as he thrust the key into the ignition and brought the engine to life, "Or I'll come back and finish it." But he knew Cabaji wouldn't. They almost never did. Some of it was because they were scared of him, but usually they got rather brave once he had left, but because they knew they'd have to explain why exactly he had shown up in the first place. Try explaining to a cop while you had 500 ml of heroin in your system.

Zoro glanced at Cabaji one last time, his gaze a mixture of sadness, pity, and contempt before he backed out of the driveway and into the street, and disappeared into the night.

~0~

It was silent in the car except for the hum of the engine for the first five minutes. Then Robin spoke up quietly, "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

Zoro glanced in the rearview mirror and sped through a stop sign; it was late enough so that he didn't have to worry about other traffic. Cabaji's house had been near the north edge of Enies Lobby, not in the nicest sections, but still in Enies Lobby. Once he entered Water 7, he'd have to slow down. Water 7 was nocturnal, it only really came to life at night.

"I think I'm not going to do anything."

"Lose the bet?"

After reflecting inside to reconfirm the decision he had come to unconsciously ever since he had realized that Sanji wasn't someone who deserved what had been decided for him, Zoro nodded. "I can't do that to him, Ro. I'll just say that I couldn't manage to get to drop his pants. It's believable enough. Nobody really believes I could have done it anyway."

"You'll lose your bike."

Zoro nearly rolled his eyes, "Doesn't matter."

"So you like him that much?" Robin wondered, half to herself.

The question was unexpected and threw him momentarily off-balance. Zoro paused before answering, surprised at himself, that he would even consider answering that melodramatic question with anything but an exclamatory negative. But the adrenaline from _collecting _from Cabaji still pumped like fire through his veins, a drug in its own right.

And the excitement that always came from driving at night seemed to have loosened his tongue and mind. "I don't know." He admitted, "All I know is that I don't want to hurt Sanji. And that I want to get to know him better. And that I've never met someone like him." Zoro laughed jaggedly, "I feel like I've known him my whole life. He's so fucking idiotic, so fucking naïve, so fucking chivalric, so fucking fuckable! Did you drug me Robin? I would never be saying this shit out loud."

"It should have kicked in around five minutes ago."

"It?"

"The mescaline I slipped into your food."

Zoro groaned, "I can't believe you." Inside he wasn't surprised. Robin was, well, _Robin._

"You were saying?"

"…. I might as well as finish, huh?"

"You can say that." Robin agreed demurely.

"There's not much. I'm just not going to try to keep my side of the bet. I'll pretend to, but I won't really. And by November, I lose my bike; the price for being such an idiot."

"And what about Sanji? Pretty fuckable?"

Zoro grunted, "God damn it, I'm _not gay._ But I can't seem to get over the fact that he's fucking hot! I mean, Givenchy model right there! It should be illegal. _Illegal. _I mean, what's up with him? I haven't looked at a guy so much before! It's not right."

Robin put her hand up her mouth to laugh politely, "That's very interesting and amusing coming from you, lady killer. But putting aside _that_, what about _Sanji?"_

"Impossible." Zoro answered automatically, he had thought long and hard over this matter and had come to an answer. There was no way _in hell _that he would be able to keep any sort of relationship with Sanji. Zoro wasn't one to care about what others thought of him, but he wasn't willing to pay the price of isolation and exile, for Sanji Blackleg, "I'm really going to enjoy my time with him until November. After that, our friendship will be over."

After the passing of his sentence, the car remained oddly silent. Zoro couldn't tell if Robin had approved of his decision or not. It was hard to tell with her. And he was slightly afraid to break the silence and ask. Mescaline was a soft drug, the relaxation which should have precipitated by now was slowly digging colored fingers in his muscles. Shit, now that meant he had broken his promise to not take anything again.

When he got to the place where they had stored his bike, Zoro pulled up to the curb behind his Harley and parked the Lexus. Robin would take it and keep it for him until tomorrow.

Robin still didn't say anything when Zoro got out and she switched to the driver's seat. Even when Zoro had shot her a confused, inquiring look, she either didn't see it or chose to ignore it.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow Ro," he said, scratching at the back of his head, still waiting for Robin to say something, anything.

She nodded and backed the Lexus up. Zoro had already given up getting another word out of her when Robin turned towards him, head leaning slightly out of the open window.

"Ah, and Zoro?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't think I'm a horrible enough friend to slip any form of narcotics in your food when you've taken the pledge." And she was off, slipping into the night as smoothly as black honey.

Zoro looked after her bemusedly, cheeks a little warm. He should have known, damn it.

~0~

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


	8. Submerging

Chapter Eight

Submerging

I aint nobody's fool, but I don't like playing by the rules, can you dig it?  
We all swim in a pool of emotion, and we're all going to sink down in it

When you drown, don't look down, all you can see is the darkness  
You don't make a sound cause there's no one around  
To hear the beat of your heart skip

_-"Submersible", Pasafire_

~0~

Sanji peered critically into his reflection in the school bathroom mirror and straightened his tie, giving it a final rakish tweak before heading out of the restroom. He had detached himself from Nami just long enough to go give himself an old once-over in the school bathroom before heading out into fifth period.

His suspension had been rather uneventful; Zeff had kicked him clear across the room when Sanji had told him he was suspended and had given him a lecture to from now on to keep out of trouble for his own good. Funny thing was, Zeff hadn't even asked what had happened; which was good because Sanji had no intention of telling him until he had sorted out whatever had happened himself.

Staying home from school had been a little strange; but he had gotten used to it pretty quickly. Mostly Sanji found himself thinking about the green-haired man who had gotten him here in the first place. Zoro Roronoa. Strange man. Mysterious bastard. Badass gangster. Amazing fighter. Handsome fucker.

Snaji frowned as this last description ran through his head. He was confident enough in his own straight sexuality to notice another guy's handsomeness and appreciate it; but Sanji couldn't help feel a trifle sensitive about Zoro's looks. His territorial and competitive sprit flared up whenever another sexy macho was near. Sanji was used to being the bull cock-no pun intended- of his hen house and he had to admit; Zoro looked more like an Abercrombie & Fitch model then a gang member, though his picture most likely would end up in a police file then on the cover of a magazine.

It was irritating.

Not only was his physique flawless; toned muscles seemed to ripple and flex from every inch of Zoro's body on his slightest movement; but his face shown with clear intelligence and leant a sophisticated aura to his rugged features.

It wasn't right.

Sanji had always been of the opinion that he himself was handsome and undeniably sexy. But Zoro! Zoro was too muscled, jagged, and physically overpowering to pull off _handsome._ Zoro was just plain hot. You just couldn't look at him and not wonder how he made love. No. Scratch that. Zoro no more made love then he was handsome. Zoro was hot; and he fucked. Period.

Sanji swallowed dryly. It wasn't like him to think so much about another guy. Granted Zoro was the most interesting thing that had happened to him in a while and the reason of such much chaos in his life; but usually guys never managed to occupy his thoughts for more than a day. It was the ladies which he fantasized about for months on end. Nami or no Nami.

Then again, Zoro was a man shrouded by mysteries to Sanji. Melodramatic though that sounded, it was true. Zoro had shown some interest in his fighting skills and techniques; but Sanji felt that his own devouring curiosity matched if not outweighed the green-haired man's.

Sanji was full of questions for Zoro; Where had he been born? Had he lived in Water 7 his whole life? Where did he live? Why had he joined a gang and for what reason? How had he learned to be so streetwise and gang savvy? Who had taught him? Did he have parents? And a last nagging question that had nothing to do with the rest of the bulk of Sanji's questions and could, in fact, be none of his damn business, yet refused to go away was; did Zoro have a steady girlfriend?

Sanji found it difficult to believe that Zoro was partnerless. He had looks and notoriety. Just one of those two qualities would have been sufficient enough to have dozens of girls panting at Zoro's feet with their legs spread. Sanji made a small disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at this thought. Not that he was jealous of Zoro; in fact, he had to admit that it would be better to get to know Zoro if he didn't have a girl hanging off his arm every second.

It didn't make sense, but that's what he thought.

Girl's could get needy; Nami had been rather clingy lately, and if he were Zoro's girlfriend he wouldn't be able to detach himself from such an utter sex symbol.

Sanji gave himself a mental slap, _If he were Zoro's girlfriend_, was he even listening to himself? Of course, he was just thinking from a female's perspective. Or maybe he should just shut up now.

Walking out of the restroom, Sanji could tell from the amount of people left in the corridors; either walking hurriedly to their next class or strolling casually along; that passing period was almost over. Good thing Home Ec. was only a few steps away from the men's restroom.

Sanji's hand strayed to his suit collar again; making sure it was on right, and that it hadn't magically flipped up embarrassingly in the few seconds since he had fixed it in front of the mirror, and now. But it hadn't. And Sanji breathed a small sigh of relief. It wouldn't do to show up fifth period looking like a hobo.

Not that anyone would think he looked like a hobo in his $700 dollar Dolce and Gabbana suit. But he just wanted to look good when he walked in there-

– _for Zoro!-_

-no reason, well, maybe to impress the lovely Conis and the equally lovely Kaya. Heavens knew Kaya needed some cheering up, she had been so depressed lately-

–_and to show that bastard that he was perfectly fine and much more attractive-_

_-_ god knew why, Kaya Merry had no reason to be so sad, she had everything anyone could possibly wish for-looks, wealth, a father who loved her-

_-this suit shows off my muscles and legs, he'd better notice how inept he is compared to my utter suavity. I mean, Taylor Lautner got nothing on _this_ shit-_

_-_And even though Sanji had a girlfriend, it was always kosher to look his best for any female, because he wouldn't want the fairer sex to suffer from the presence of his badly-dressed personage.

So those were his excuses to why he was taking extra pains to be extra presentable this fifth period. Excuses. Plural.

Sanji stopped in front of the door and fixed his hair again; then took a deep breath and purposefully relaxed his shoulders in order to achieve the perfect casual air of coolness and disinterest; opened the door; and strolled inside.

~0~

_Where was he?_ Zoro drummed his fingers impatiently on the table and stole another quick glance at the door as it opened. But it was only two giggling brunette girls with matching haircuts who entered. Zoro knew Sanji was here; he had seen him at lunch, surrounded as always by a gaggle of girls and a small circle of admiring male friends, the same as always, just as though he had never been gone. But apparently he was either late, or planning to skip fifth period. Which wouldn't surprise Zoro, considering all the things he had recently discovered that Sanji was capable of doing.

But why would Sanji want to skip fifth period? That meant the blond was avoiding him. Did he finally get freaked out by him? Had he gotten mad about everything that had happened? Was he-

"Are you expecting someone Zoro?" Luffy interrupted, in a serious tone of voice, his face a picture of concentration, "You keep staring at the door."

"Nah! I don't think so." Zoro snapped, turning to glare at the strawhat boy and absurdly feeling like he had been caught doing something embarrassing, "I'm just watching people coming in! Got a problem with that?" Knowing he was so completely obvious, hating it. But knowing that Luffy wouldn't pick up on the most ostentatious things.

Luffy shook his head thoughtfully and then brightened up as he looked past Zoro's shoulder, "Hey Sanji! You're back!"

_Great, the second my back is turned. F-M-L. What unlucky, cursed star was I born under?_

Zoro's head turned, so slowly he bet he could hear the joints creaking if he really listened for them. And came eye to eye with a shiny black button. Slowly his eyes travelled upwards what seemed to be a mile of black broadcloth to meet the sea blue eyes of Sanji Blackleg.

The face was just as handsome as he remembered it. And for some reason this faintly pissed him off even as it exhilarated him.

Black locked on blue.

~0~

Luffy smiled obliviously as his two friends stared each other down, as though straining to burn each other's images onto their retinas or disintegrate the other with the intensity of their gaze. "Hey Sanji!" he repeated, "Zoro was expecting you!"

"Oh really? Did the little mosshead here miss me?" Sanji drawled, his eyes still boring into Zoro's. A little smile played at the corners of his mouth as he saw the blood rising up in Zoro's tanned cheeks.

"I said I was watching the door you fucking idiot," Zoro said through gritted teeth, directing the insult at both the assholes, cursing the blush on his face and making a mental promise to drown Luffy alive before the sun set. The bastard couldn't swim after all. But the damage had been done, Sanji had the upper hand.

"Oh yeah!" Luffy chirped happily, "I was the one who was waiting for Sanji to show up! I forgot!" he laughed sheepishly, black eyes twinkling as they danced between his two friends. Zoro would have been shocked to know that Luffy _hadn't _forgot. But _cunning_ wasn't a word that was normally ascribed to the Strawhat.

"What kind of idiot watches the door?" Sanji asked, contempt dripping off his words and the sardonic smile lazily hanging off his mouth was both increasingly annoying and sexy at the same time. Zoro could feel the muted heat in his cheeks flare again as his traitorous mind gibbered on and on about how cool Sanji was and how nice he looked.

Zoro, not liking the fact that he had to crane his neck back to stare up at Sanji, stood up, the legs of his chair scraping the floor as he pushed it back. He could hear the noise level drop in the classroom as everyone quieted down and watched through the corners of their eyes, not wishing to look like they were eavesdropping. The news that he and Sanji had gotten in a fight had spread like wildfire through East Blue High, due to the numbers of witnesses present at the brawl, the intensity of the fight, and the fact that both Zoro and Sanji were well known.

Now they stood eye to eye, not exactly glaring, Zoro didn't feel any hostility in the blond's gaze, but it was challenging nonetheless; measuring. Zoro had secretly hoped he'd be at least an inch taller than Sanji, but now that they were face to face, he had to admit that they were evenly matched in height and in build. Though he had the advantage in upper body strength; as undoubtedly Sanji had his in his powerful legs.

In fact, they were so evenly proportioned, that they could share a level kiss. Most of the women Zoro had ever kissed had been much shorter than him, and he had had to bend down while they had had to stand on tip-toes so that their mouths could meet. Level kisses were usually only shared in bed, when their sizes could be equalized. And as such, were much more intimate.

Not that he was thinking of kisses or bed when he looked across at Sanji. In fact his lips were probably drop dead ugly, as most smokers' were. Yellow and slightly shit-brown at the edges, peeling white skin adorning the dry surfaces and teeth whose color was nicest said as _yellow ochre. _

Seemingly of their own volition, Zoro's eyes broke the electric eye-contact and dropped down to Sanji's lips. They were peachy-pink and very full and looked oh so soft and kissable. Pink and peach and plump and perfect and anything else which starts with P.

"I like watching doors." he said lamely, remembering that Sanji was expecting a retort. It was the best he could come up with, what with the current distraction. Why the hell he was staring at Sanji's lips in the first place and considering them distracting in the second place was a mystery though. Very mysterious.

Sanji felt the blood rise in his own cheeks as he watched Zoro watch his lips. He felt so nervous, almost as much as when he asked Nami out the first time. It was ridiculous. Sanji knew that he should be at least slightly disturbed, if anything male watched his mouth this intently, but for some reason he wasn't. And the fact that he wasn't disturbed, disturbed him more, than _not_ being disturbed would have disturbed him.

Goddamn it, the point was that he was _disturbed. _Highly disturbed.

And the same exciting rush was tingling inside him imperceptibly. Like the adrenaline that had been pouring like molten lava through his veins and racing through his body like fire when he had been fighting this same man. A wailing siren was keening his head and making it utterly impossible to breath, let alone think.

Sanji's tongue flicked out and moistened his dry lips, he couldn't help it, not caring that that might be taken as suggestive innuendo.

"Oh." Was all Sanji could come up with. He couldn't seem to form a single coherent thought in his mind when he was staring into Zoro's eyes. His tongue stole out again and ran over his bottom lip. The tension was unbearable.

The small action seemed to snap Zoro out of it; he tore his eyes off Sanji and fastened at a point over the blond's shoulder, "So how was your one week vacation?" The question was lame and distracted; the kind of question people asked when they ran out of things to say.

Sanji laughed nervously, "Fine, fine…" And immediately felt like an idiot. Prepared speeches and dream scenarios that he had imagined and had prepared to be delivered with a cocky smile, had flown out the window_. –How was your week gone from school?-Oh, you know the usual, I went partying every night… -How was your suspension?- Hmmph, boring. I'm gonna kick your sorry ass for getting me suspended in the first place._

The fact that he had even bothered to fantasize this shit was another highly disturbing fact.

"That's-" Zoro was cut off as the tardy bell rang out, silencing whatever he was about to say. And he promptly forgot what it had been. All he could do was goggle at Sanji, eyes taking him in and jaw hanging open like. A. Complete._ Idiot_.

Sanji looked up confusedly, the tardy bell… That meant that he had been talking to Zoro for less than a minute. It sure had seemed a lot more than that-time had felt stretched out; like taffy.

Zoro sat back down in his chair and Sanji feeling slightly exposed since everyone else had resumed their seats and he was the only one standing; walked dreamlike over to his seat between Conis and Kaya, who were watching him expectantly and a trifle curiously.

Shanks, resplendent as always in his trademark long, black cape and his stunning glossy, red hair, was standing in front of the class, his hand resting lightly on the covers of some books on his desk. He gave Sanji a wide grin as the chef took his seat. Sanji tried to return the smile, but whatever he managed felt like a ghoul's grimace and he quickly dropped it.

"Hello class! Hello, hello, hello! Well, we finally have our own chef back, so now I have the energy to actually teach this class!" Shanks said happily. He plucked a piece of paper from his desk and glanced at it, "It seems we're supposed to baking cookies this first week…Good thing I had Ben type this up for me! I wouldn't have a clue to what we're doing if he hadn't! A good, reliable man, is Ben! I mean, like hell I want to help you kids! I'm just here for the grub."

Laughter rippled across the classroom. By now, most of them had gotten used to their eccentric teacher.

Shanks smiled, "Ok. Our first assignment in this class will be to make chocolate chip cookies! If I like them, you get an 'A'. If they're burned or undercooked, you get a 'C', if even Luffy can't eat them, you get an 'F'. All the necessary ingredients are under the counters at the kitchen stations. And I'll pass out the recipe instructions. While I do so, pair up groups of two; there aren't enough kitchen stations or ingredients for all of you to work individually." Catching sight of Sanji right about to open his mouth and speak, Shanks said indulgently, "But if you can't bring yourself to separate from your two lovely friends, you may work in a threesome."

"Sanji's my partner!" Luffy yelled loudly, jumping up and down in excitement. Seriously, the kid seemed to equate chocolate chip cookies with the lost treasure of Jolly Roger.

"Or foursome." Shanks said serenely.

Zoro glared at the jumping fuzzball of energy, _Traitor! _he mouthed when Luffy took his worshipping eyes off the blonde cook and finally looked over at him.

"Ahhh! I forgot you're my partner Zoro!" Luffy cried, "You can come too!" He motioned frantically with his hands.

"Or quintet." Shanks went on calmly.

"No thanks Luffy." Zoro said quickly, he'd rather take on all of Krieg's gang then team up with the idiot blond "I'll tag along with Kohza and Brooke over here instead if it's all the same to you."

"Awww! Are you sure? Sanji's cooking is to die for!" Luffy pouted.

"If he comes, then that means less cookies for all of us. That means smaller portions apiece. That means less food for you, Luffy!" Sanji called from across the room.

"I'm-sorry-Zoro-I-guess-you-can't-come!" and Luffy was off like a shot to sit himself on the floor next to Sanji. Zoro scowled, Sanji knew exactly how to manipulate stupid Luffy so that the kid turned to putty in his hands. Zoro caught a glimpse of a smirk on the blond's face as he chanced a peak at him_. Take that green-haired bastard. _

Zoro shrugged and plucked at his shirt collar disdainfully, _As if I'd _want_ to be in your shitty cookie-baking group._

Sanji flipped his hair back and turned his back on him, _As if I'd want _you_ to be in my group asshole._

Zoro grinned in spite of himself and turned toward Kohza and Brooke, "So, let's _do_ this shit."

~0~

Twenty minutes later, his cocky words seemed rather premature and mocked him in retrospect. Who knew that cookies were so fucking difficult to make?

Zoro wiped the beads of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand and glanced over at Kohza and Brooke. Kohza was chatting pleasantly with Brooke as he wiped his flour-dusted hands on a paper towel as Brooke slid the baking tray with twenty cookies nicely baked and toasted out of the oven with a mittened hand.

Zoro glanced down at the hunk of goo that vaguely resembled cookie dough in his mixing bowl and cursed inwardly. Each pair had gotten the necessary ingredients to make one batch of about twenty cookies, but since there had been three of them, Zoro had gotten a whole batch to himself. At first he had been smug, thinking that at least he wouldn't be hindered by any other well-meaning idiot.

Now…Well at least he wouldn't drag anyone down with him. Kohza had taken one look at his creation and had stated, not unkindly, "Man, you suck."

He took another peak at Sanji's workstation. Zoro had been watching Sanji's cooking operations overtly throughout the period and had been rather impressed with the efficiency and talent that the other displayed in his culinary obsession. In the kitchen, Sanji was in his element. His movements were swift and graceful. To Zoro, it felt as if each step, each movement, from tasting the dough, to pouring the small, brown chocolate chips, was another step in a ritualized dance; beautiful in its fluidity.

Sanji's cookies had come out of the oven five minutes ago, and the happy group of four was munching away on his no-doubt delicious heart-shaped chocolate chip treats. Except Luffy, who was bolting them down, not even seeming to chew. The scent floated across the room and Zoro felt his stomach grumble as the delicious, warm smell tickled his nose and whetted his appetite.

Zoro glanced down at his culinary disaster again. Would Luffy eat this?

Suddenly, a large shadow fell over his station and Zoro looked up to see Shanks peering into his mixing bowl intently. Years seemed to pass as both men contemplated the sticky mess in the bowl.

"Man, you suck." Shanks said gravely.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"You need help." Shanks thought for a minute and then called out, "Oi! Sanji! Come over here!"

_Of course. Of fucking course. _

Zoro muttered 'shit' under his breath as he watched Sanji glance up, get up, and walk slowly over to his station. Sanji shot him a strange look.

"Zoro here needs some professional help. Be so kind as to help him with his cookies, will you Sanji?" Shanks asked.

Sanji glanced up at the clock, "But there's only about three minutes left Shanks…"

"Oh don't worry about that." The red-head said obliviously, "You can stay after class to finish. It's my prep period anyway. And I'll write you a pass to your next class."

"Well, ok…" Sanji said, turning to Zoro, as Shanks wandered off to steal some cookies off the table next to his.

"Only two minutes left class!" Shanks called out, "Please put your cookies in the Tupperware containers you'll find in the cabinets above your work stations. You can only leave a few if you want, for grading, and you can take the rest home with you. There's Zippie bags over there. Don't forget to put your names on a slip of paper and leave it on top of the Tupperware so I can identify each of yours!"

Sanji peered into the mixing bowl, "Man, you suck."

Zoro felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He knew he sucked; he didn't need people repeating it every three seconds. "I know." He said through clenched teeth.

"No, really. I've seen stuff come out of my asshole that looks better than this."

"Shut the fuck up. Are you going to teach me or not?" Zoro had thought that he _liked _Sanji. What had be been thinking? The guy was a total curly question mark.

"I don't know if I can help this."

"You know what? You're asking to get your ass pummeled again."

"Again? I was the one beating the shit out of you, you fucking mosshead."

Once again, the bell cut off Zoro before he could formulate his comeback. Zoro watched as the rest of the students finished their last preparations and filed out of the work area and back into the classroom to head out to their last period. He caught a glimpse of Kohza and Brooke heading out with the rest; Brooke had a wide smile on his face as he made a rough circle with one hand and thrust the forefinger of his other hand in and out of it repeatedly, while he wiggled his thin, wiry eyebrows at Sanji's back. Kohza had an unwilling smile on his face, though he was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide it.

Zoro glared at them."Sick bastards..."

"What the fuck did you say mossy?" Sanji glared at him, putting a hand on his hip and cocking his head to one side, apparently thinking that this last vulgarity had been addressed at him.

"Sanji! Zoro! I'm going to head over to Ben's classroom! This is our period to chill together and I'm not going to miss it! Just finish up and head over to the room next door so I can write you a pass when you're ready to go, okay?" Shanks called out from where he was following the last students out of the kitchen. In his hand was a very suspicious looking brown paperbag sack.

"Sure." Sanji called back, and Shanks disappeared with a cheerful 'Take care boys!'

Zoro suddenly became very, very aware that they were now very, very alone. He could feel his heart beating, thumping faster and faster the more Sanji's eyes bored into his.

~0~

First, a hierarchy must be established.

"Oi. Go put on an apron."

"Who says you can order me around? And no, aprons are stupid."

Second, the lines of how far one could and could not be pushed must be discovered, marked, ad clearly delineated.

"In the kitchen, I'm in charge. And aprons are not stupid; they keep your clothes clean. Look at you, you're covered in shit." Sanji frowned at the flour dust and bits of goop stuck to his shirt. He stepped forward and brushed off the front of Zoro's shirt with authoritative sweeps of his hands.

Third, bodily contact must be introduced in order to establish the level of intimacy.

"Oi! I can clean myself!" Zoro yelped, hating that his voice wavered, and backed up, effectively knocking over some dishes as he bumped into a table behind him. And damn it, the fucking blush was threatening to come back, full force. But Sanji being so close and it had been so sudden and unexpected. Not unpleasant, but different and whatthefuck, whatthefuck, whatthefuck…!

"Then clean yourself." Sanji snapped, with more anger than usual, and brushed past him to pick up the dishes that had fallen.

Fourth, force must be used for one to finally triumph over the other and for interaction to continue

An awkward silence fell as Zoro studiously cleaned his shirt and Sanji rearranged the dishes on the table.

Zoro's mind was racing with confusion; he was so preoccupied that he didn't hear the drawer open behind him, and the quiet footsteps behind him. Though his mind was not so much preoccupied as running along the lines previously mentioned above.

Seconds before the loss of his dignity, Zoro tried to make awkward, tortured conversation, "So, uh, cookies, Sanji-AGH! What the fuck-!" Zoro yelled as he felt_ something_ thrown over his head and draw tight across his chest and tightened painfully. "Agh! _What the hell are you doing_?" Heart nearing exploding point when Sanji's frontside bumped his backside and he felt hands on his waist.

Except he _knew_ what the fucking bastard was doing. But he hoped beyond hope that he was wrong.

Zoro cracked open his eyes, he didn't even remember closing them, and looked down, horrified. He was wearing an apron. And not just any apron. It was a pink apron. And had a panda stitched on it. His hands flew to the knots in the back; no use-they had been tied, then tied again, and then tied again. Escape was futile.

Zoro could_ feel _his street cred dwindling rapidly with every second he had the apron on. "I'm going to kill you." He groaned through a clenched jaw.

He heard Sanji laugh somewhere behind him, "If you had cooperated, then I would have given you a plain white apron. But you didn't, so I got you a nice pink one. _Never _disobey a chef in the kitchen. He'll castrate you with the KitchenAid Blender, destroy your testicles with the cheese grater and cut your nipples off with the can opener. All that and more."

Fifth, humor should be aroused to dispel all previous prejudices.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you goddamn-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's make those cookies so we can get out of here and out of each other's charming company."

Zoro finally turned around and scowled at the blond chef as Sanji burst into laughter on seeing Zoro in all his pink glory.

Mirth suffused the guy's face, only making him look cuter, "Oh, if only your gang could see you like this."

"Say something and I'll set a price on your head. Not that I'm not going to anyway." Zoro growled, his cheeks red.

Sanji nodded solemnly, "Never fear fair lady. Your secret is safe with me."

Zoro's eyes narrowed at the jibe, "Bastard."

Sanji threw back the ball of colloquial coquetry, "Asshole."

"Fucker."

"Shithead"

"Dick."

"Prick."

"That rhymed."

Sanji laughed and shook his head. "I'm a poet but don't know it. All right, I have all the ingredients here. Just follow the instructions on the recipe and you should be fine."

"That's what I did last time and I ended up with that." Zoro gestured to the sludge in the mixing bowl. It had started to solidify.

Sanji cast him a withering look, pointedly not looking at Zoro's earlier attempt . "How can you be so stupid?"

"I'm sorry I'm not a world-class chef." Zoro said, mustering all the sarcasm he could.

"You should be." Sanji said calmly, "Now follow the instructions. I'm going to be watching your every move to make sure you don't fuck up."

Zoro groaned, but glanced at the first instruction on the paper. _Mix flour, eggs, milk, and…_

Lastly, all rules should be cast aside and everything that what previously considered stable, unchanging, and stalwart in its fixation should be prepared for complete destruction.

~0~

"Wow. I'm impressed. I didn't know it was even possible to fuck up thirty-seven times while making cookies."

"Hey, the last time, I thought the fucking paper said 'add twenty cups of water'."

"That was just a black mark next to the '2'. How can anyone think that it was even logical to add twenty cups?"

"It wasn't my fault."

Silence.

"What do I do now then?"

"Obviously, you mix the ingredients."

Zoro shrugged and grabbed a wooden spoon and proceeded to swirl the dough around the bowl. "What now?" he groaned as Sanji's facial expression turned from one of sour amusement to one of mild disgust.

"Do you even know how to mix dough?"

"How hard can it be? I'm doing it aren't I?"

"That's not mixing; that's moving your hand which happens to be attached to a spoon in an erratic fashion."

"And you're not a complete idiot; you're just a guy with an attitude that society has been trying to breed out for centuries." he answered sarcastically, mimicking Sanji's mannerisms. Zoro gave the dough another half-turn with his spoon.

"Argh! Don't mix like that! It hurts just looking at you!" Sanji exclaimed, recoiling at the base way Zoro was handling his cookie dough.

"Don't look then." Zoro retorted, and swirled his dough with what he hoped was a rakish air.

"You're supposed to scrape the edges of the bowl, then accumulate the dough in the middle, lift it up, roll it over, and repeat."

"….You lost me at 'bowl'."

"_What-_Oh, just, let me see-" Sanji stepped up beside Zoro, close enough so that Zoro could feel the heat of his body radiating out and warming up his back. Zoro had barely enough time to register this before Sanji seized Zoro's hand which was handling the wooden spoon with his right hand and proceeded to mix the dough vigorously, as he had previously consulted.

"Oi! Do we have to be in this position?" Zoro complained as Sanji's hand continued to guide his own through the routine. But he gave only a token resistance to withdraw his hand from the smooth confines of Sanji's white one. Suddenly it was imperative that he remain absolutely still. As if Sanji was a gorgeous butterfly which had alighted on his nose and which he shouldn't move so much as in inch if he wished to continue observing the creature so intimately.

"This is so gay." he muttered, only because it was expected of him. He could feel Sanji leaning over his shoulder. The chest hitting his shoulder was warm and solid. Just the type of chest he would like if he was a chick.

Mentally, he slapped himself

Sanji was talking, "I can't think of any other way to pound it through your thick skull. Now shut up and concentrate on what I'm doing and the different movements I'm making."

_That's what he said. _

Zoro groaned, but he shut up and looked down at their hands. Sanji's was peachy, like the rest of him, but he appeared almost pale in contrast to his own deep tan. He himself appeared even darker then he really was because of the close contact with such an ivory complexion. Sanji's hand was slightly smaller than his own; but was in no way feminine; his fingers were long and graceful; yet his hands looked powerful; and there were numerous small scratches and burns on their surfaces-

"Are you paying attention mossy?" Sanji's drawling voice cut through Zoro's reverie about his hands. He was so close, his voice seemed to drill into his ear.

"Why the hell do you call me that?" Zoro snapped, jolted out of his reverie, and once again tried to shake his hand free.

"I should think it's obvious. You have green hair. Why the hell do you dye it like that?" Sanji asked, gripping Zoro's hand hard and effectively stopping Zoro from withdrawing.

"Why does everyone ask me that? I don't dye it. This is natural." Zoro frowned.

Sanji laughed, "I beg to differ."

"Yeah, whatever. Are we finished here?"

Sanji leaned a little closer and peered over Zoro's shoulder, "Yeah, looks about right." He let go of Zoro's hand and stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaned moodily against a table nearby.

Zoro had a strange feeling of emptiness and of a situation that had been cut off before the climax. He cleared his throat nervously.

"What do I do now?"

"Make small balls with the dough and place them on the baking sheet." Sanji said, his eyes looked far away and withdrawn, and his voice sounded distracted, he seemed as if he was lost in his own deep contemplations.

"I don't think I can. I'm used to big balls."

This thin joke only brought a ghost of a smile to Sanji's face. Zoro, who had been expecting a laugh or at least a burning look of contempt and a smug smile of superiority, gave the blond a curious look. Nevertheless, Zoro shrugged and started to roll the dough in the palms of his hand.

Another awkward silence fell.

Zoro chanced another sneak peak at Sanji. The cook was frowning deeply and still appeared to be in deep concentration. Zoro coughed nervously.

"Oi, shitty moss-head."

"What?" Zoro coughed again; his mouth seemed so dry.

"If you ever want to fight again…just tell me."

Zoro laughed, "You mean, if I ever need a punching bag."

"I'm serious."Sanji's insistent tone made Zoro stop laughing and listen up, "I liked it. I want to fight again. You liked it too, didn't you? Don't lie to me."

Zoro felt the inevitable blush rise in his cheeks. How the fuck could he put into words the emotions that had whirled through his head when he had been fighting Sanji? Had he _liked_ it? Understatement of the century. He had _loved_ fighting this undeniably sexy blond man standing next to him. What could he say? That it had excited and fueled him and seemed to have replace his living blood with some sort of liquid fire? That it had been an exhilarating release best likened to the climax of sexual orgasm? That he fucking dreamt of fighting him again and going even further? That he was dying to touch this man again? Isn't that what it came down to? Wasn't it? Wasn't it?

"It-It had its…perks…" he said slowly.

Sanji smirked, "I knew it. I _knew_ it! We should meet up sometime and just try to fucking kill each other."

_Fucking… _

Zoro suddenly had a clear vision of himself thrusting into Sanji roughly and repeatedly, not a stitch of clothing on them or between them. With a groan, that was one quarter moan, Zoro dropped his head into his hands and stuck the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough for him to see bright color spots dance across his vision.

_I am going insane_ he thought with a sort of half-assed wonder. _In fact, I'm sitting in the psyche ward right now, imagining all this right now. I am already insane. Of course, none of this is real!_ Deep relief flooded into his brain cells and Zoro lifted his head up with a small smile of satisfaction at a dilemma well-solved.

"Zoro? Are you okay?" Sanji had drawn close and was peering at him with a confused and slightly worried expression on his face. His curled eyebrow was scrunched down in scrutiny as he searched Zoro's face.

Zoro smiled and nodded.

That seemed to make Sanji even more anxious and nervous. "Shit, Zoro. What's wrong? Do you feel dizzy? Sick? Fevered?" The concerned look on his face deepened to actual worry and he reached out one of those tough hands Zoro had been admiring just a minute ago and grabbed his shoulder. To make matters worse, Sanji drew even closer and peered into his eyes, scanning his pupils like he suspected Zoro was high. Zoro could feel the small puffs of air on his face as Sanji exhaled. They were that close.

And those damn lips.

Zoro felt Sanji's touch like a brand, hot and fueling. It scared him; and he shook Sanji off angrily, fearfully. If Sanji didn't step away in less than two seconds, Zoro wasn't sure if he could manage to contain himself, his hands itched to grab the cook and rip his suit jacket and shirt and pants off and just fuck him right there into the forgotten cookie dough. Fuck not knowing how to have sex with a guy; he would stick his dick in the first hole he saw.

What was wrong with him? His heart felt so heavy and filled with something thicker and hotter than blood.

"Stop that!" he snapped, and though he spoke to Sanji, he was talking to himself too. And for good reason; with mounting alarm, Zoro felt himself slowly throbbing. What was _wrong _with him? All it took was a small touch from the cook, a soft unintentional caress; and his jimmy snapped to attention as if though it had never before known the sweet confines of a woman. If Sanji ever somehow, for some bizarre reason not now foreseen, managed to grab his cock, Zoro suspected that he would come right there without any help.

What the fuck were these directions in which his mind whirled him off to?

Meanwhile, Sanji was looking slightly offended, "Stop what?" He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the table, in a stance which screamed _hot_. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Stop driving me insane you _idiot_!" Zoro yelled, finally reaching his breaking point and passing it without a look back. But Sanji just looked so _everything_. "I can't fucking _stand_ you!" He reached out blindly and seized Sanji's tie and yanked him forward so that their faces were almost touching. The reaction wasn't at all what Zoro had expected. Sanji seemed to come almost willingly, almost as if he had been expecting it; his eyes were half-closed as if expecting to be kissed and his mouth was slightly open. Those talented white hands flew up and bunched in Zoro's shirt, clutched as if they'd never let go. Small suns of heat.

Their noses brushed each other softly; Zoro could hear Sanji panting heavily, as if from exertion. His hands were trembling. Or was it him shaking? Their bodies seemed to have molded together; interlocked puzzle pieces. Their eyes drilled and nailed each other.

It was too much.

"Get the hell out of my life, _Sanji."_

Zoro flung him away before his restraint completely collapsed and something transpired that he would later regret. Sanji went crashing into the table, making it slide across the floor. His startled yell echoing across the empty room.

Zoro didn't see if Sanji was hurt or not; by the time Sanji had opened his eyes and disentangled himself from the table; Zoro was gone.

~0~

Sanji stared at the place where Zoro had previously occupied with baffled anger. So close! He had been so close! To what? Sanji shook his head slowly, as anger fell away to confusion. Shouldn't he have been glad that nothing had happened? What had he been expecting or fearing in the first place?

Hadn't he wanted something to happen though? Wasn't that why he hadn't made a move to stop Zoro? He wasn't gay. He knew that for sure. But caught up in the moment, nothing had mattered, save the closeness of his lips. Sanji remembered the brief stunning realization that had rocketed through his mind when Zoro had pulled him near

_-he's going to kiss me!-_

and the exhilaration and horror that had followed.

_Get the hell out of my life. I can't fucking stand you. Stop driving me insane!_

"What the hell is he gibbering about?" Sanji muttered under his breath to himself, "Drive _him_ insane? He's driving _me _insane!"Sanji slowly sat up, and winced as a sharp pain in his side informed him that he would soon develop a bruise.

What was up with the sudden drama? Zoro wasn't just a gangster, he was a diva. They guy suddenly was touchy-touchy and then don't-touch-me. Straight out of a Katy Perry song. Sanji wasn't particularly angry, just amazingly confused.

Sanji absentmindedly fixed the table back into its original position and began to finish making the small balls of dough that Zoro had left abandoned on the table. He was enough of a cook to worry about wasting ingredients at this point in time.

At least cooking would slow down the racing tattoo of his heart.

~0~

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing this crazy shit. **

**[1] The part in which Zoro's looking at Sanji's lips: I was talking to a guy with whom I'd had a thing with (except I broke it off, a fact for which he never forgave me) and my eyes dropped to his lips, of their own accord I swear, and I was a little (okay, very) embarrassed because of the implications and because **_**who**_** I was staring at. Thought I'd share my inspiration. **


	9. Where the Water Meets

Chapter Nine

Where the Water Meets

Regrets are all you left, on your lipstick stains  
Take a picture of our past there in that ashtray  
We had our fun, I used to light your flame  
Like the dancing smoke that rose we tried to find our way  
No one told me, she told me  
Your love's like one last cigarette  
Last cigarette, I will savor it  
The last cigarette  
Take it in and hold your breath, hope it never ends  
But when it's gone, it's gone  
The last cigarette  
Just to breathe reminds me of what used to be  
The smoke's the ghost that keeps you close when I can't sleep  
Don't ask the past to last, it's about to change  
The memories don't answer when I call your name  
No one told me, she told me  
Your love's like one last cigarette  
Last cigarette, I will savor it  
The last cigarette  
Take it in and hold your breath, hope it never ends  
But when it's gone, it's gone  
One last cigarette, last cigarette  
One I can't forget, the last cigarette  
Right there at my fingertips, got your taste still on my lips  
Right or wrong  
You're still gone, gone, gone

_-"Last Cigarette", Bon Jovi_

~0~

It had been a little more than a week now since the little incident in the empty Home Ec. room. Neither Zoro nor Sanji had spoken to the other since that day. They hadn't even exchanged a single bantering insult. Sanji would have been happier if that had been; or at least a little more relieved because he would've known how to handle that. But Zoro had stalked in to Home Ec. the next day, pointedly looking anywhere but at him, and Sanji felt the frustration rising up inside him-the frustration that comes from having someone being mad at you for no fault of your own.

He scowled in the direction of Zoro's turned profile. It wasn't like _he_ was the one who had shoved his face into the bastard's, close enough so they could have soul kissed. He didn't know what the fuck was up with that green-haired mosshead.

"Sanji?" a sweet feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes, my angel?" he said eloquently, turning around to talk with Conis. Conis Waver was the pale blonde girl who sat on his right. And a prettier, sweeter, more lovely angel he could not have found anywhere.

"Are you going to the party today?" she asked. "You've been awfully quiet lately Sanji." Her pale blue eyes probed gently.

"Hmm? Party?" Sanji asked, he remembered his group of friends talking excitedly about a party that they were going to throw at the end of the week; but he hadn't really been paying attention at the time. His mind had been occupied with yonder bastard.

"Yes, where have you been Sanji?" Conis laughed softly, her laughter gentle and music to Sanji's ears, "My father's Waver company has had booming sales lately, so he's hosting a party to celebrate. We're all invited. It's today."

Sanji smiled, some of his troubles fading as he thought of the sweet Conis's father. Pagaya Waver was a sweet, humble man, as docile as his daughter, who was CEO of Waver Co: a huge company that specialized in the manufacture of Wavers-small hybrid cars and boats. Plus, he had the coolest beard Sanji had ever been graced to see. Pagaya's beard was circular and hid his mouth. And Sanji could swear he had never seen the man's eyes-they were always closed in mellow surrender.

"Where's the party?" he asked. Maybe he'd have some nice distraction time. He really was wasting both time and brain cells trying to figure out why Zoro was such an idiot.

Conis smiled, "At Angel Beach Sanji. Where else?"

"When is it again? Forgive me my ignorance, sweet Conis."

"It starts at 6 PM until 11 PM. Meet at the beach house, and then we'll all go down to the water from there. We'll be barbequing, so if you want to cook, bring any special ingredients you might need." Conis said, smiling, "And of course Nami's coming."

"Of course." Sanji nodded to himself in approval. Angel Beach was a strip of beach a few miles drive from Grand Line that was private property of Pagaya Waver. He was _that_ rich. It was a beautiful piece of land that had phenomenal views and the best vantage points to watch the sunset and sunrise.

The beach house was a roomy cottage on the property that had small bedrooms, a large kitchen, a game room, and a huge Jacuzzi that overlooked the bay. Sanji had been there a few times and fallen in love with the place. It was that beautiful. And it had been the place where he asked Nami out for the first time as well as the place where the other first time had happened.

Sanji grinned again and rubbed his hands together expectantly; he couldn't wait already. Really, he shouldn't be wondering and worrying about _anything_ at this point of life, when he still had so much to live and love for and enjoy.

~0~

What was that bitch so happy about? Zoro glowered in that direction. If someone asked him, he would say that the blond had no right to be happy while he was the cause of so much turmoil in Zoro's life. Even though Zoro had decided that avoiding the other man was the best course available to him, that didn't deter him from watching Sanji like a hawk.

Sanji was turning out to a bigger issue than Zoro would have ever thought possible. First, he was all right. Next, he was pretty bitchin' actually. Next, he's…fucking sexy? When had he started to notice another guy's face? When had he started wondering how another guy's lips would feel like?

Zoro slammed his forehead into the desk as the words ran through his mind._ Could _he stop thinking like that? Kohza and Brooke glanced at him nervously, and Brooke spun a finger next to his head in a 'crazy' gesture; Kohza stifled a laugh and nodded. Zoro didn't even notice.

But it was true. That time in the empty Home Ec. room…he had been so close from just claiming those lips for his own. Seconds away from just mashing through mouths together and just losing himself in the kiss. Could he have helped what had happened after? He was a strapping man in the prime of his astounding virility-of course he needed some release once in a while!

It didn't help that after storming from the room in a cloud of confusion and semi-arousal, Zoro had noticed two things simultaneously, one-that he was half-hard, which was embarrassing in of itself, and two-that he was still wearing the fucking apron! The fucking _pink_ apron! And it was so tightly strapped on him that he could clearly see the rising tent in the pink fabric, and could feel it choking the head of his dick. Which was probably the reason why he had noticed the two things at the same time.

Cursing the bastard of a blond cook and damning him to hell for all eternity, he had run like hell into the closest men's bathroom; the same one that Sanji had so recently occupied actually, but Zoro had no way of knowing that. He was ready to bodily throw out any of the poor, unfortunate souls who might have had the bad luck to choose that time to use the urinals. But the bathroom was empty, and Zoro thankfully said a prayer to no one in particular. He didn't believe in God after all. And he had dived into one of the closed off stalls.

Once safely ensconced behind the protective walls of the stall, he had desperately tried to rip the knots off again. But again, the same end met his frantic efforts. Sanji must have been a boyscout or some kind of sailor trainee to have learned to tie such complex knots… the image of Sanji in a cute little-boy sailor suit was immediately provided by his twisted, _perverted ,_and he was coming to think, insane mind. Sanji in a pair of little white shorts that showed every inch of those muscular legs, the cute little sailor hat perched on a handsome head of yellow hair.

Zoro was struck with a powerful urge to beat his brains against the cold tiles of the bathroom walls until his brains burst from the eyesockets.

_I'm not going to do __that __again._

His cock seemed to ache in sweet persuasion. It had a mind of its own Zoro would have sworn. And really, he was desperately trying not to think about why exactly he was in this position. To think about that would immediately make everything flood in his tired mind implode from the crushing reality.

"No! Goddamn it, no!" Zoro muttered between clenched teeth, unaware he was speaking out loud in an empty bathroom. He had an absurd and completely ridiculous urge to say "Down boy!" to his waiting dick.

Holy shit, he was a complete _mess_ of emotions. Why, why, _why?_

Sanji's little sailor shorts were glossy and white and strained against his stifling erection. His muscular torso, well-defined pectorals and the type of six pack which drove women wild, was bare. Cufflinks decorated Sanji's wrists, just like the ones Chippendale performers wore. Even as he watched, Sanji turned and ran a hand down his stomach, favoring Zoro with a wink that could only be described as lewd.

_Why am I seeing this so fucking_ _clearly_? Zoro thought through a muffled and foggy head, his sex drive overpowering and demanding his full and undivided attention.

Because you/I want to.

_I'm not doing that again_. Period. End of fucking _discussion._

It's not like you/I finished last time. So technically, you/I won't be doing anything again. Because you/I didn't finish to begin with!

Sanji's captain hat was perched on his head, his yellow hair was slightly long and covered his left eye. The cook licked the tip of his finger and touched it to his nipple. Zoro simultaneously thought it was stupidest and hottest thing he had ever seen.

Zoro's cock throbbed again, in anticipation. And _still _the fucking apron hindered.

With a choked growl Zoro's hand flew into his motorcycle boot, which were a green so dark it looked black, and drew out his switchblade. In the idea that most gang members carried weapons inside their footware, Nami was right; though it was mostly a Water 7 deal and not just limited to gangsters. And they were usually used for practical purposes and not for shanking innocent civilians as most people seemed to think. Practical purposes like cutting the plastic rings of a soda pack or cutting the knots of a disgustingly rose-hued apron that blond assholes stupidly triple tied on unsuspecting and guiltless people that were innocently minding their own business.

But that was completely off-topic.

Zoro made short work with the apron and in seconds there was pink huddle lying forlornly at his feet. Zoro cast an admiring glance at the keen blade, pushed the blade back in, and tucked it affectionately back into his boot. It was a small but usable blade; and though it paled in comparison to the steel he kept hidden at home, the switchblade took care of business.

Speaking of taking care of business.

Zoro knew without looking down that he was still as hard as before; harder even, now that he was no longer restrained by conflicting material. What to do, what to do, what to do?

"No…" Zoro whispered and banged his forehead on the side of the stall. "Why, why, _why?"_

_Why is it that one touch from him has me panting like a fucking virgin? Why am I even _thinking_ like this in the first place? Who the hell is he to me? Why should I care? _

Weighty ponderous questions all of them. Worthy inquisitives on his part. But only one base and unrefined question crowded to the forefront of his mind.

_Is Sanji a virgin?_

He didn't know. But suddenly the safety of the world seemed hinged on the chastity of Sanji Blackleg. It was imperative that the blond remained a virgin.

But his cock seemed to like that idea. It twitched expectantly. And damn, when the fuck did his dick suddenly grow a mind of its own? The next thing it would want to detach itself from his sacred persona and go out riding on his motorcycle.

Shit, whatever else, he had two options; he could a) wait until his hardon faded away or b) quickly and quietly take care of business.

Zoro groaned as his crotch flared up again as he shifted his leg and the movement caused his pants to rub torturously against his swollen dick.

That decided him.

Nearly collapsing on the toilet seat, Zoro slid his loose pants easily to his knees and grasped himself firmly, gasping and moaning as he reacted immediately to the warmness and rough texture of his own palm. He felt like every pore of his body had opened and covered him with a thin film of pleasant sweat.

_Fine. But absolutely no thinking of Sanji._

_Robin…Robin in that little bikini she was in at the beach…Porche's legs wrapped around his waist….Hancock giving him the best head he ever had…Both Kiwi and Mozu in a delicious three-some that had lasted all night…Ms. Doublefinger demonstrating how she got the name 'doublefinger'…Ms. Monday's violent heat…Ms. Father's Day perverted game of 'leapfrog'…Laki's strange Shandrain herbs that had made them both able to last multiple rounds…The entire Flower Harem of Foxy's whorehouse…Perona's weird kinky idea of dressing him up as a stuffed bear…Jewelry Bonny's voracious appetite that wasn't just limited to food-that woman was only happy when she was stuffing something in her mouth….Aphelandra's sheer size….Sandersonia's flexibility that allowed her body to twist like a contortionist…_

But it was useless.

Zoro turned bright red as these last memories replayed in his mind. A hand went embarrassedly to his mouth.

He could actually hear the poof of smoke and see two little Zoro's which suddenly appeared on each shoulder. The one on his right shoulder was wearing a long flowing robe and the one on the left was slouching in a dark, baggy hoody.

The Zoro on the left favored him with a 'let's be reasonable, shall we?' look: _You're not gay. You are straight. You've known this guy for a month and you think he's hot? No. Impossible. You like women. And Ace is hot according to women but you've never looked twice at _his _dick. _

The Zoro on the right adjusted a wrinkle in his robe and frowned at the gangster Zoro: _I think jacking off to a guy and wanting to kiss one qualifies you as gay. Obviously Sanji is handsome enough to turn heads and he's a nice guy. What's wrong with appreciating that and wondering?_

Gangster Zoro shook his head in disgust: _The problem is that Zoro isn't gay, homie. All this wondering is going to fuck with his head. He hasn't looked at a guy before, ergo he's not gay. Duh. _

Metro Zoro ignored Gangster Zoro and looked back at Zoro: _It's obvious you like him and think he's cute. So what if you want to kiss him and touch his hair? We're all human. _

Gangster Zoro interrupted: _That's stupid. _

And on and on it went in Zoro's overheated mind. And where it stops nobody knows.

Luffy laughed as he watched his friend turn as bright as a tomato and wondered what possibly could cause his normally stoic friend to blush so much lately. Maybe he was thinking of some girl? Luffy frowned at that. He didn't think any girl would be able to fill up the gap Zoro carried inside him. If someone asked him-and nobody ever did because no one seemed to take him seriously except Shanks and her- Luffy would have said that Sanji would be the perfect partner for Zoro.

They were so much alike and so darn compatible with the each other. Luffy grinned at that.

But Sanji would never even consider the idea of dating a guy; he was in love with women and Nami.

And Zoro?

Maybe Zoro wouldn't have such a problem with it. After all, he always went on and on about how women and men were the same. Luffy gave another curious glance at his flushed friend and noticed that the green-head was staring fixedly at something. Curiously Luffy followed his best friend's gaze and gave a start when he ended up looking at the back of….Sanji's head!

Luffy furrowed his brow in concentration as ' if A=B and B=C then A=C' tried to come together in some sort of sense. Zoro is blushing….people blush when they're thinking naughty thoughts… Zoro is staring at Sanji's head when he's blushing…. Zoro…is…thinking….naughty thoughts about Sanji?

Luffy nodded in self-agreement and fixed the strawhat on his back absentmindedly before letting a sunny smile spread across his handsome features. He would keep quiet about this and try to help it along. Luffy mentally patted his back and fed himself a congratulatory piece of imaginary meat. See? People should tell him things instead of laughing and patting his head and telling him not to worry about it.

"Neh, Zoro." Luffy began, turning a guileless face on his green-haired friend.

"Hmm? Not now, Luffy.." Zoro muttered, his eyes still trained on the blond's sleek yellow hair. Kohza and Brooke were busy making coffee cake.

"Neh…Zoro." Luffy tugged on the hem of Zoro's shirt and pitched his voice into a whine, "Nehhh.."

"What, Luffy!" Zoro finally said, tearing his eyes away from Sanji.

"My friends are having a party, want to come?"

"Uh, I don't know. Who's party is it and where?" Zoro asked uneasily, he didn't like refusing Luffy, but some of Luffy's friends, weren't his friends, simply put.

"Conis Waver's dad is throwing a party at Angel Beach today!" Luffy chirped happily.

"Waver-Angel Bea-" Zoro let out a bark of laughter, "Luffy, are you even listening to yourself? That's not my crowd." He didn't know Conis personally, but the name Waver was famous. It only owned the huge Waver company and the huge luxury real estate known as Angel Beach.

"But if I invite you, they won't say anything." Luffy gave his puppy-dog look.

"Maybe not, but they'll still think it." Zoro muttered, refusing to look at Luffy's puppy-dog look.

"They're not like that though!" Luffy cajoled, "They're nice people."

"Nice, my ass. I still wouldn't feel comfortable there." Zoro said. "Tell you what, Luffy, why don't we throw a party at our Angel Beach instead. It'll be fun, and Ace is going to be there."

"Sanji's coming." Luffy said, throwing down his trump card as a last desperate measure to get Zoro to come. Luffy tried not to show his frustration show through and disrupt his innocent face. Sanji would be more willing to date someone outside his class, but within his own gender; while Zoro was probably more willing to date inside his own gender then outside his class. Couldn't they see that those were just stupid barriers?

Zoro froze and flushed simultaneously. "Why would I care if that shit-cook is going or not?"

Luffy kept his innocent face; but secretly was delighted with the reaction, "He likes you a lot! Sanji always talks about you all the time!" This was not necessarily the truth, Sanji rarely mentioned Zoro, but Luffy was good friends with the cook enough to know that though he might not be talking constantly about the swordsman, he sure thought about him constantly.

Zoro had a weird look on his face that was half surprise, half happiness, half freaked out, and a quarter 'what the fuck?', "Really?"

"Yup!" Luffy nodded in a cheerful affirmative.

"Wow, that's…um...that's…huh." Zoro glanced at the blonde hair up ahead again. He talks about me all the time? Zoro felt absurdly touched. Well, I think about him all the time…so I guess we're even? I wonder if he's ever…about me? Zoro refused to follow the thought lest he should blush again.

"So…are you coming with me? Sanji'd be really happy if you came! Maybe we can fish together! You can bring Usopp if you want to bring a friend." Luffy's voice had become wheedling, and Zoro thought that if Luffy was a little bit smarter then he would have suspected something was up. "Come on! It'll be fun!"

Zoro was on the verge of agreeing. From his gang he didn't expect much of a problem-everybody, Ace included, was still waiting ravenously for the conclusion of the bet, and would think that he's only be going to the party to get a chance to win it. Aside from the original bet between Ace and him, dozens of other gamblers had taken sides and placed their own stakes. Even other gangs, the ones that Blackbeard was friendly with, had quickly learned of the little game and had enthusiastically joined in. Sure, other gangs were potential rivals, but Water 7 came first. Only Robin knew that he had given up long ago.

But still…what if he ended up just feeling like an out of place ass?

"Ehhh, sorry Luffy. I'm kind of busy today." Zoro said.

Luffy frowned, but sighed and nodded. "Okay then…" he said in a subdued voice that was uncharacteristic of him, "I'm going to go tell Sanji that I'm going then…" with that, the lanky raven slid off his seat like he was a pile of sad goo and slinked off to Sanji's table.

Zoro frowned as a thought about it some more. He really wanted to go though; maybe Sanji would want him to go? Maybe he would've gone if it hadn't been such a classy joint as Angel Beach. The houses alongside that particular piece of sand cost upwards of five million.

_Angel Beach…isn't that close to, in fact, right next to…?_

Zoro grinned suddenly as an idea hit him, "Oi! Brooke! Kohza!"

Brooke and Kohza were finishing their coffee cake and telling each other funny sex jokes. "Hey Brooke, a family's at the zoo and the little kid sees the elephant, and goes 'mom, mom, what's that at the end of-" but turned expectantly to Zoro when he called their names. "Yeah?"

Zoro couldn't stop grinning, his idea was so perfect, so damn convenient "What do you guys say about having a party today at Upper Yard?"

~0~

Kohza rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he peered at Zoro's excited face. Zoro wasn't much for parties, the only reason he went was to drink and get laid. But then, weren't those the main reasons anybody went to parties? Brooke was yahooing crazily at the idea of a party. Water 7 parties were infamous. And if even Zoro wanted to, then anybody else who didn't want to would just look retarded. "Upper yard?" he mused.

"Yeah! I'm kind of feeling like a party..." Zoro continued and trailed off, casting around for a good excuse.

"Then I guess we should do it.", Kohza grinned, "It's been a while since I've last been to Upper Yard."

"Yeah, I know right?" Zoro said excitedly, "I'll call Ace, Robin, Usopp…" Zoro flipped out his cell phone and started texting like mad. The idea that this was perfect wouldn't leave him. Why he suddenly should want to chase after the man he'd been avoiding was a thought which never occurred to him.

Kohza looked surprised and laughed, "You must really feeling like a party Zoro!"

"Fuck yeah."

Kohza shrugged and pulled out his own phone to invite a couple more people. Scrolling through his phone book, his calloused thumb hovered for a second over 'Vivi' before skipping over. Vivi had told him that'd she be at Conis Waver's party at Angel Beach today. Kohza allowed a soft smile to steal over his features. Maybe they wouldn't be together physically, but they would close.

Upper Yard was after all the strip of sand that was connected to Angel Beach.

~0~

"Party!" Ace screamed in enthusiasm as he jumped from foot to foot, "Yes! Why didn't I think about this myself? I can't believe Zoro, of all people…When I heard I thought it was a little too warm for hell to have frozen over."

"Shut up! I can party too." Zoro snapped as he hefted the beer cooler into the back of Ace's small Honda Accord. It was actually Luffy's, as a present from his grandfather who was in the Marines, but the strawhat had agreed to let them borrow it for the night because Sanji was going to give him a ride to the Angel Beach party.

"Hahaha, how can I forget? How many girls are you going to bang tonight, my man?" Ace laughed. "You want to pass by_ Cosco_ to pick up condoms?"

Zoro laughed, "Shut up! Thanks to you everybody thinks I'm a player."

Ace rolled his eyes, "That's because you _are_. Bitch, please."

"Che. Whatever." Zoro finished throwing in a couple bags of food and a couple blankets, "Get in

Portgas."

Ace happily jumped into the passenger seat and Zoro slid behind the wheel. "Man, it's been forever since we've been to Upper Yard Zoro. Too long."

"The reason why we haven't been there is because Franky likes to skinny dip."

Ace nearly choked, "Aw man! I don't need those kinds of fucking images!"

Zoro shrugged. "Well, it's true."

"Yeah, but ease me up to it!"

"…..Franky…..likes….to…skinny-"

"Argh! Just shut up you idiot."

Zoro and Ace burst into laughter and punched each other affectionately on the shoulders.

After a while of Ace looking out the window at the passing scenery, it only took half an hour to reach Upper Yard from Grand Line, Ace spoke up.

"Enel?"

Zoro's knuckles immediately turned white as he gripped the steering wheel fiercely, "He's a piece of shit."

Ace nodded, "You're not…about going there again?"

"I'm not scared. If that's what you're asking me. Anyway, it's not like he's going to be there."

Ace nodded again and returned to studying the passing city scenes. "Just checking."

Zoro frowned to himself. He could see why Ace had brought that motherfucker up seeing that they were going to Upper Yard again; but fuck, way to spoil a good Friday afternoon.

Maybe the reason why they hadn't gone down to Upper Yard in such a long time was because of Enel. Because technically, Upper Yard was private property and trespassing was forbidden, just like Angel Beach was.

Enel Skypeia-a huge pale man with unnaturally long earlobes and the CEO of Maxima Electrical Works, owned the stretch of beach known as Upper Yard. However, Angel Beach had undeniably the best views and the pick of what the beach had to offer. Upper Yard was a tiny bug on the back of the glorious Angel Beach. Upper Yard's shores were more pebbles than actual sand, and huge evergreens crowded the spots where there actually was soft ground. And only a small tattered shack stood on the property, in contrast to the magnificent villas that Angel Beach boasted. Plus, it was hidden by view by a couple outcroppings. So there was virtually no reinforcement of the trespassing rule.

Thanks to these features Water 7s had been able to throw parties at Upper Yard since time out of mind. Especially since the previous owner-a kind old man with the curious name of Gan Fall- had turned a blind eye to their various festivities.

But last year, Enel Skypeia had become owner of Upper Yard.

Water 7 hadn't thought much of it at the time, but then another beach party had been thrown…

_The party was really alive that night. The huge bonfire they had built burned so hotly that those closest to the fire were sweating profusely. Zoro was_ _laughing hard as Ace, Marcos, and Usopp danced around the fire in some strange tribal ritual. Chopper was laughing somewhere in a shrill way that could only be described as a giggle. He threw his beer bottle into the fire and watched in satisfaction as he was rewarded with a small explosion. Robin smiled demurely at him across the fire. He smiled back at her, happy to be with his closest friends and just happy to be alive._

_Then chaos had erupted. There were people everywhere suddenly, the sound of a huge dog barking. His swords, always nearby when he ventured out of Water 7, were in his hands and unsheathed in an instant. Zoro had a brief glimpse of Chopper shot with something and fall to the ground, bleeding from his mouth; his cute pink hat fell forlornly to his side. _

_The man-who was bald and wearing tiny little sunglasses and a tight olive green tanktop-who had shot Chopper went down fast._

_And just when the dozen other invaders, led by four other eccentric looking characters-a fat man with long red hair, a weird looking idiot with hair that looked like a pitchfork ,a man with a pointy mustache and a small aviator cap, and a huge ugly-ass motherfucker- had seemed on the verge of collapsing in on itself. Robin had taken down the ugly-ass motherfucker and Ace had taken the fat one, the others had fallen to other Water 7s. _

_But then a tall, pale man had walked out of the nearby trees, clapping in mock joy. _

_It was the first time Zoro had seen Enel._

"_Hmmm…I was betting that there would only be five survivors left of the game." Enel had said laughing. He was twirling a strange metal baton in one muscled hand. _

"_Game?" Zoro had yelled, "What the fuck are you saying?"_

_Enel frowned and stared at him as if he were the slow one, "Game. Do you know what animals are called on the owner's property, boy?"_

"_Animals-" Zoro had started furiously._

_Enel laughed, "Yes. Game. Or did you not see the 'no trespassing' sign on the beach? You're not allowed here, boy. You came here illegally and so forfeited your rights as a person. You're in God's hands now." Enel had said this last with a tone that suggested that he personally believed that he was the Almighty. _

_Robin had interrupted smoothly, before Zoro could hurl another scathing remark and so sink them deeper into trouble, "Yes, that might be true, but no one uses this place Mr. Skypeia. If people saw us partying here then it might make the place more desirable-which would cause the price of the land to increase-which means that you'll earn more money if you ever decide to sell it." Her tone was subtly convincing and persuasive._

_Zoro actually thought that they had been saved as Enel seemed to be deeply contemplating Robin's words with a genuine smile at the thought of his moneybag increasing. Then he had simply pointed the weird baton thing he carried at Robin, small wires had shot out and Zoro had a stunned thought fly through his head-taser!- before he was moving by reflex so ingrained in him to be deemed instinct; flying to catch Robin before she fell to the ground._

_Her trademark cowboy hat had fluttered past him as he raced over and managed to catch Robin, careful to keep his swords from piercing her accidently. Zoro couldn't remember feeling so angry in his entire life. Robin was one of his closest friends; and what's more, she was, she was…_

"_She's a woman you bastard!" Zoro hissed at the smirking figure of Enel. Of course, Zoro had always deemed women and men as equals-having learned that lesson early from Kuina, and he had seen women fight men without raising so much as an eyebrow; but he had never, never seen such a blatant show of immorality and disregard for boundaries._

_Enel's eyes ran over Robin's body, _"_I noticed."_

_It probably was the most insensitive thing Enel could have said, and Zoro was racing across the pebbly ground, his swords sliding into a scissor formation, nothing could have pacified him but the color of Enel's intestines glistening crimson-purple in the firelight. _

_Then there had been an intense light that had seemed to fill every pore; there was no pain-that would come later-and Zoro had felt himself fade away-powerless against the black current._

_Zoro had awakened in a hospital bed the next day. They told him he'd been hit by a taser. One that had been especially made by Enel himself and that had carried a supercharge of 10,000 volts. He was lucky to be alive. _

_Robin had been hit by a smaller charge; she was fine now._

_The others had simply been forced to retreat and carry their wounded to nearby hospitals. _

_They tried to dissuade him from going back and killing Enel. Zoro was adamant. Enel was one dead motherfucker .He would have gone, too._

_But the next day, headlines across the city had screamed from the tops of newspapers-Electrical megacompany CEO Enel Skypeia beaten insane?- A huge investigative network had mushroomed for the crime-and had quickly uncovered many illegal schemes Enel had kept undercover, apparently the electrical CEO had illegal workers working in slave-like conditions in many of his heavy industrial factories._

_And he had been found so badly beaten that apparently there had been some brain damage and now the former electrical giant gibbered on and on about going to a place called 'Fairy Vearth' and had developed an unhealthy obsession with the full moon. _

_Meanwhile, the anonymous criminal had leapt into heroism and there had been parallels drawn between the Crocodile incident and now the Enel incident. And the vigilante was publically and privately toasted everywhere. _

_Zoro had been more than a little miffed that he hadn't gotten to Enel personally, but he wasn't completely unhappy with the way things had turned out. _

_If he ever met the mysterious vigilante, then he would certainly thank him._

_But he doubted he ever would._

_Gan Fall, the previous owner of Upper Yard, had bought the stretch of sunny beach again, but Water 7 had stayed away from then on. _

_Until now._

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ace asked drowsily, his cheek resting on the window pane. He was almost falling asleep. A habit the older D. brother was notorious for.

"Hmm? Oh…just thinking…they never caught the guy who did Enel, did they." Not a question.

"Nah. That man is one cool motherfucker. I'd like to meet him. He must be a millionaire by day, vigilante by night. Just like Spiderman."

"You mean Batman.", Zoro snorted.

"That's the one…. Zzzzzz" Ace nodded off.

Zoro rolled his eyes-trust Ace to fall asleep only minutes away from their destination- and took advantage of his freckled friend's silence to have his turn at looking out the window to watch the passing scenery. They were passing Angel Beach now, and Zoro could see the beginnings of a party down at the waterline. He strained his eyes to catch sight of a familiar crown of blond hair; knowing that is was useless to try to discern an individual at the distance but trying anyway.

Because wasn't that the reason why he had suddenly wanted to throw a party at Upper Yard? He honestly didn't give a fuck if he ever saw the polluted shores of Upper Yard again; whatever magic the place had ever had had been destroyed by Enel's foulness. Anyway, it was just a piece of dirt once you got down to it-it was the people who made the place. An idea in which Robin heartily concurred.

The bottom line was that Zoro would have hosted a party in hell itself, if it had been in close proximity to Angel Beach.

Close to Sanji.

The words whispered in his mind, uncalled for and unbidden. As if someone standing close by had placed their lips to the shell of his ear and murmured them. They made him cringe inside, even as he ran them greedily through his thoughts again and again.

The beaches weren't that far apart. The chances of a_ coincidental_ meeting weren't bad. Maybe they'd get to fight again. The last thought caused a Zoro's lips to stretch in a wolfish grin and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation and excitement.

Zoro narrowed his eyes into slits and scanned the beach as he flew past in Ace's car; but no matter how hard he wished to be rewarded; he saw only strangers.

~0~

"Yes, Nami dear!" Sanji trilled, with less dramatization than usual and handed his lovely girlfriend a grilled kabob, not before kissing the tip and leaning over her so that he could catch a gorgeous eyeful.

"Thank you Sanji dear." Nami said sweetly, stroking his chin gently. The smile on her face was a little dollop of cream.

"Naaami~" Sanji chirped dutifully, though in truth he was kind of preoccupied with other things to be paying too much attention to Nami's caresses. Amazing, considering with how much ardor he had longed for them before. But that was just it. That had been before. Before.

Before he had met Zoro.

_Ah, crap. I hate how that freaking sounds. Like I'm cheating on her with some dude. _

Sanji wasn't sure how that could have affected his relationship with his sexy Nami. But ever since he had met Zoro, Nami had seemed to have lost some of that shine that had enveloped her before. Let's face it ladies and gentlemen, she had been eclipsed.

But no, that wasn't fair.

Thinking back on it, Sanji had to admit that he and Nami had started to drift even before that-it had started in his car when they had differed in their viewpoints about Water 7. Since then, Sanji had found himself more on the opposite side of opinion then Nami, then on the same side.

_Bullshit. Bullshit. You and she have avoided politics like that since then. You rarely disagree. Stop lying to yourself man. Be fair. Don't bullshit a bullshitter. You want to hang out with Zoro more than Nami and it shows. Badly. Any woman would be irritated. _

_Nami tapped her bright orange nails on the kitchen countertop, "All you do is talk about him!"_

_"What-No I don't!" They had been in his house, she sitting down at the barstool, he cooking. He _had_ been touching lightly upon Zoro and the general life of Water 7 a few times, but not enough to be obvious. Well, that's what he _thought.

_"Yes, you do! Zoro this, Zoro that, Zoro is so cool, Zoro is so hot-" Nami mimed the movements of an enamored fangirl. _

_"I never said that!" Sanji had yelped-he would never raise his voice against a lady- in a half-shocked, half-guilty tone. Again that sneaking feeling of shame was back. A feeling that he wouldn't have minded if he didn't know that it came because what Nami was saying had particles of truth embedded in it. _

_"Maybe not, but you might as well." Nami had snapped, "You never pay attention to me anymore! All you want to talk about is Water 7 and what it was like and if I ever knew Zoro or Blackbeard! You know I hate remembering that!"_

Sanji had no comeback for this one; she was only telling the truth anyway. Maybe he hadn't been devoting as much time with her as he usually did; but couldn't he spend some time for himself?

_Bullshit. Bullshit. I _never_ wanted to spend time for myself. Nami always came first, my time was Nami's time. It's only after _him_ that I stopped wanting to. But why?_

Sanji had agreed to go to Angel Beach because he hoped that maybe some of the fire that had infused their relationship would be rekindled and his life would be happy again. Angel Beach held good memories for them both. They had lost their virginities together beneath the dim, sultry light of the crescent moon. Their clumsy and inexperienced caresses sweet in their innocence and sincerity; what they lacked in experience, they had made up for in wholesome enthusiasm.

Perhaps they had been disconnected over the summer, perhaps that was all there was to it. Perhaps it wasn't Zoro at all, perhaps it was just them. It was worth the try.

When he had come for the first time, for the first real time, the pleasure had been so great that Sanji felt like they had lighted the dark beach with their passion. And later, they had fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms; swearing never to leave the other. It had been the best night of his life.

Why had something which seemed like it was going to last forever, dissipated so rapidly? Was love so fragile? Was life so ambivalent? How could the world continue to revolve when life was so delicate? When powerful and beautiful processes were so transitory?

~0~

The bonfire was huge. Girls were wrapped around him. All his friends were partying and laughing and rejoicing in the indisputable beauty of life. Over fifty of them had managed to make it and the singing and laughter was at quite a respectable volume. Beer flowed unceasingly and the sweet smell of pot drifted pleasantly in the air. The moon was full, and hung, bloated and proud, in the midnight blue of the sky. The black water rippled like silk in the moonlight.

Zoro would have been fundamentally happy on any other occasion. Yet, he couldn't recall ever being so unhappy. So ashamed of himself and so satisfactorily bitter with the world and life.

The party had started out fine; Zoro kept a close eye on the noisy glow on Angel Beach that signified the festivities going on that side. And waited for something, anything to happen. He didn't know what, but it seemed impossible for him and Sanji to be so close without something happening.

He had waited. Drank some beer to pass the time.

And waited. Drank some more beer.

More beer. Added a shot of vodka.

After night had fallen, Zoro had given up waiting. What had he been expecting in the first place? That Sanji would come walking over here to say 'how's doing?' In his dreams. What had he been thinking long ago? The day he met Sanji? That dreams were for fools.

But what pissed him off the most was how upset he actually was. Sanji Blackleg was just some really cool, really awesome dude. Some guy he met and wanted to know better. Some guy he had decided to spare because the guy didn't deserve it.

_Goddamn, maybe he's not even there and I'm freaking out over nothing. Jeez, I'd feel so stupid. _

He wasn't sure why he did it then, maybe it was the beer, but Zoro had managed to get Van Auger to lend him his weird one eye binocular glasses and had climbed to the top of the rocks that surrounded Upper Yard. There, seated on a blunt boulder, Zoro had raised the binocular thing to his eye and combed the beach, again looking for blond hair and curly eyebrows. This time he had seen Sanji all too clearly.

A random thought spiraled through his buzzed mind, _I should never have come up here. _

The fucking love cook was slow-dancing with the bitchy red-head around their own bonfire. They were so close Zoro wondered if they would be able to separate. Sanji's head was nuzzled into the red-head's neck and his arms were gripping her like he wouldn't be able to live if he let go.

Emotions attacked him from a legion of sides. Embarrassment stung him, shame for having gone to such lengths to peek upon another's life. Shame at being upset that Sanji was with his girlfriend when the other had every right to be with whomever he fucking well pleased. Bitterness because it seemed that Sanji should be here. Confusion at what it all meant.

Zoro cursed and hurled the binoculars at the jagged rocks around him, and watched with bitter satisfaction as the delicate framework shattered into thousands of glittering shards across the rocks.

Then he had found his way back to his own festival and for the first time in years had accepted a joystick. It was the beer. It was Sanji. It was everything and everyone.

Then somehow, Perona was there, all dark sensuality and restrained sexuality. And he had given himself up in her body, straining to forget about the other. Though why and wherefore and how come was a mystery that he just couldn't wrap his head around.

And the darkness had swallowed him for a while.

~0~

At the other water's end, a second, more couscous, heartbreak was throbbing just as unmercifully, causing its owner unceasing hurt.

Nami grimaced as Sanji mistook her for one of his beloved pots and pans and gripped her hip too hard. It might not leave a bruise, but the mark was on her heart.

"You're drunk..." she said forlornly, more to herself, then Sanji, who was very drunk indeed. Inebriated out of his senses; an impressive feat as Sanji could hold his liquor very well. It said something about how much he had drunk. Which was a direct reflection on how he felt. And that he should feel so, at a place so sacred to them, when he was with her, hurt.

After the party had been dying down, Enies Lobby parties were like Water 7 kickbacks, and here on Angel Beach, the night was over, while Upper Yard was just warming up; the various people had split into couples. Boyfriends with their girls; and the partnerless ones had paired off, one by one, except Luffy, who stayed by himself, near the fire, with a hunk of meat happily enough.

Sanji had walked hand in hand with her to the water's edge. Nami had known what was going to happen; she had been taking the pill for the last weeks ever since she had given herself up to Sanji, in case either one of them would want to make love again, though nothing had happened since the first time. Sanji had almost immediately gone to Paris, and then Zoro Roronoa had appeared.

Nami frowned against Sanji's shoulder as she thought of this last. Contrary to whatever Sanji might think, she wasn't racist or bigoted; she was simply a realist who was down-to-earth enough to understand some basic truths; truths which Sanji in his innocence and naivety was blind to. Sanji might have had a painful childhood, but his had been a cakewalk compared to her own. And ever since, Water 7 had carried a painful and hateful recollection with it.

But the bottom line was that she didn't hate Zoro Roronoa for what he was, where he was born, or where he came from; she hated him because he was the reason that Sanji had seemed so distant lately. If Zoro had had breasts and long hair, Nami thought that she would have lost Sanji at _hello_.

The thought infuriated her even as it frightened her.

Becuase she loved him. Her Sanji. Her knight errant who had been through so much with her and for her. She had fallen in love with Sanji when he stood swaying and bloody, before her, protecting her from an Arlong gang member with the unlikely name of Kurobii.

And because she loved him, she hated and feared Zoro Roronoa who threatened her love. He held Sanji's interest, a position she had until recently, occupied herself. Sanji would mention him, not often, that was true, but she loved Sanji, and thus, knew what was on his mind.

Or maybe, fear of all fears, it wasn't Zoro Roronoa? Some woman? Maybe Zoro Roronoa had a beautiful sister, with bottle-green eyes and long, lustrous hair? Maybe Zoro's friend, Robin Nico, was involved somehow.

It was enough to explain that feeling. That feeling that she felt like she already lost Sanji; when she turned quickly and caught that wistful look in his eyes. She had dated before, enough to recognize that expression when she saw it; though it perplexed her to no end. Sanji was looking afar in the field; and another dame had caught his eye. She wanted to cry and scream whenever she saw Sanji with that look drawn gently on his lips. But who had caught his eye? Nobody that she knew, she was certain. Sanji had either already dated them, or had made clear his friend position. She thought that maybe the other woman lived in Water 7. Why did Sanji suddenly have such a fascination with Water 7? He had never paid attention before. Again, the old argument rose in her mind.

So when Sanji proposed making a small trip to Upper Yard to go see a friend of his, Nami had been crestfallen and crushed. The _other_ was over there. Who? Who? Robin? Alvida? Laki? Porche?

"No." She said, curtly.

"Oh, please, Nami dear! It'll be fun! A nice little walk…" The cajoling tone which would have convinced her less than two weeks ago met no effect this time. That look of eagerness on his face unsettled her.

"No. We're having a party here, we'll stay here."

And that had been that.

Sanji had looked like he wanted to protest some more, but a glare from her had shut him up that time. It was against his nature to argue with her-or any female-so Sanji had just shut up and went to go find solace in a beer bottle.

Then there had come the real hairball.

She had tugged on his hand, a little after everyone had started dancing around the bonfire, and beckoned him with a flirtatious bat of her long eyelashes into the waiting shadows. She had still not given up the hope that somehow Sanji would fall in love with her all over again, and that they would have the happy ending that she had longed for, with all the strength of her indomitable spirit.

So what if there was another gorgeous woman who had long legs and big breasts? She was a hot bitch herself, and what was more, she knew it. Whoever it was didn't hold a candle to her beauty or to her spirit. She would fight for Sanji if that was what it took. No one would be able to resist her when they lay belly to belly.

Nami had had to give Sanji's hand a few hard yanks before he registered the fact that she wanted him. He had drunk quite a bit by then, and was well on his way to being completely wasted. Nami had been rather hurt, that he would get so inebriated at the place which she held so sacred. But had nevertheless, pulled him into the darkness and down onto the sand carpet. The shadows provided the privacy, and their bodies the heat.

_Sanji had been responsive at first; his hands had plunged into her hair and his mouth had wasted no time in claiming hers. He had responded quickly to the rhythm and squirming of her talented hand. The strong muscular slabs of thighs trapped her beneath him_

_It was the darkness, it was the heat, it was the dominance which made the lips between her legs flutter and drip. It was the almost abusive hands in her hair, tilting her head back and the heated package rubbing somewhere between them. _

_And she began to ache. The ache of emptiness. _

_And then, he was gone. So gone. The cold flooded in. _

_She looked up startled and hurt, confused protests died in her mouth as she saw Sanji pacing back and forth a few feet away, he was rubbing his arms hectically and shaking, though the night air was reasonably warm, "No…I'm sorry-Nami, I'm sorry I can't do this to you-"_

_The confusion was overwhelming, the thoughts hard to formulate as her brain competed with the beating of the heart in her groin, _"_What-Sanji, I don't understand-What's wrong?" His words brought her back to the loss of her virginity and time seemed to double back and fold upon itself. _

"_Me. I'm the problem. I can't do this-"_

"_I don't understand! What do you mean, you can't? You're not impotent! I felt you!" She had cried, bewildered at Sanji's response; it wasn't like this was the first time. All she could think of was the literal meaning of his words, and Sanji had been responsive; she had felt the stiff heat through his thin beach shorts. _

_Sanji's face had been hidden in the darkness, and the bonfire in the near distance cast haggard shadows across his smooth cheeks, "I'm sorry Nami." He had said simply, embarrassedly, "Please…not now." Always the gentleman, sometimes it irritated her immensely. The tent in his shorts irritated her still more. It was a silent confirmation of that inkling of doubt which she harbored, unwillingly, in the back of her mind. _

_She had looked up at him, from where she was still half-lying on the grainy sand, confused and unhappy, her body still throbbing from repressed need. "Is it another woman?" she had asked finally, sadly. It was the only thing that she could think up of that would cause Sanji to stop. That thought, long hoarded and nursed with jealousy, that tree long watered with suspicion, finally harvested and spoken. Words that changed what was between them forever and which could never he taken back. _

_There was an awful pause that lasted years before Sanji said, "No. No other woman." But he looked away when he said it, and from then on she knew there was no point in going on. _

_But still she said ,_"_Promise?" The words were dull, not hopeful but resigned. _

_Another hesitant pause, "Promise." Hollow words. _

_She had nodded "Okay.", deciding to try to keep up the appearance of trust, and then had fallen quiet as she realized the awkward situation they had been left in. Sanji, too, seemed to be at a loss for words; at least he had stopped that awful pacing, so now he only stood there, looking at her with wide, unhappy eyes._

_Sanji Blackleg, the suave. Sanji Blackleg the gentleman who was the epitome of all things refined and vogue. Sanji who was standing there at a loss for words. Who in the world could affect this poised man so much? Dull pain flared deep within her chest. _

_She had stood up then, and taken his hand, and led Sanji back to the fire, he had seemed reluctant at first, but she had asked gently, "Can we dance at least? Can you give me that much?" Perhaps things had changed fundamentally from this night on; and tomorrow she would be able to face these changes with a high head and guarded heart. She would be able to because the sun would be up and the light would be strong. But here, in the realm of the night and shadows, she was lost. _

_Sanji had nodded and allowed himself to be taken back to the bonfire, he had to lean heavily on her because he couldn't walk in a straight line. The weight of his body on her own slight frame both comforted and oppressed her. _

_And then they had danced. But that in itself was only a sad replica of what she had been hoping for. Sanji was too drunk to coordinate his movements gracefully as he usually did-he was a superb dancer-and Nami knew that Sanji was holding her tightly more for support then for any form of ardor. He couldn't even hold up his head-Sanji let himself droop into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and he was heavy._

_It only seemed to reinforce the fact that things had changed irrevocably. They couldn't even move in tandem any longer. _

"Sanji…" Nami muttered, "I'm getting tired." Her shoulder was starting to tingle.

"Hmm…whass?" Sanji half-groaned, head shifting on her shoulder, hand half-heartedly trying to run circles on her back.

She shoved him hard, unsympathetic, "Get off me Sanji. Please." The entreaty was harder than she intended it to be, and for some reason this delighted her darkly.

"Waas wrong…"

With a little struggle, she disentangled herself from her intoxicated boyfriend, "I'm going to the beach house. Maybe you should come too. You need to lie down." Though she hoped that Sanji would choose to crash on the tide line. She did not relish the prospect of the long walk to the beach house with the 190 pound Sanji dragging her down. All she wanted to do was climb into one of the fluffy beds that felt like clouds and huddle into a little ball and cry her eyes out.

Sanji stood swaying for a few seconds, looking in danger of falling flat on his face for a few seconds before he managed to gain some measure of composure and straightened imperceptibly. "Naahh…Ima stay here." he slurred. He shook his head, eyes clearing somewhat. "Nights' pretty. Don't wanna miss it, ya know?"

Nami nodded, hurt that Sanji hadn't even put up a protest that she was leaving, turned around and walked off, her feet leaving delicate tracks in the moist sand. Sanji watched as they formed, fascinated, until the incoming waves rolled in and washed them away, leaving the beach flawless, and the impression that she had never been there in the first place.

~0~

Sanji sighed and hiccoughed as he contemplated the rolling waves. With Nami gone, the feeling of inebriation had faded away. Her departure had been the wakeup call he had needed. However, his head still buzzed uncontrollably, and the only thing standing between himself and the sleep of beer was his sorrow and his inner shame.

_I'm sorry Nami._

_I'm sorry for failing you and for deceiving you._

He had been on the point of taking what had been so ardently offered, but then…things had changed.

His hands which had been running over soft and supple flesh suddenly were gripping hard muscle and calloused flesh. Sweet, sensual perfume had disappeared and the strong testosterone odor of sweat and smoke had invaded his nostrils.

_Yes, a familiar sight_. _He'd been here before. _

_Zoro. God, how would it feel? How would that feel? How would he feel? _

And Sanji felt like something had broken inside of him; no, something had opened inside of him. Some eye, something. Nami was here, he was here. But what he wanted wasn't even female. What he wanted was base, like himself. Why the hell did he want it? But want it he couldn't fucking deny. And it was _it_, not _him_. _It _he could live with, it was impersonal, cold and calculated.

Sanji had felt the needy, desperate urge to take Nami and take that lust that throbbed darkly inside him and fuck her. Just fuck her. Disgusting how that sounded. Base and primal and utterly chauvinistic. He hated it.

But that didn't refrain from thinking of slamming inside over and over in brutal fashion and making his coming cataclysmic. His cock felt huge and swollen; trapped within his shorts. Never had he felt such restraint in sex; and Sanji wanted for once just to let himself go and go at it with all he had.

He wanted to _fight_. Roll over the ground in struggle, bare his teeth and laugh in each other's faces.

It was _it. It. It. It. _

Sanji had been off Nami in seconds, before he lost it completely, and basically raped her on the sand. She had been hurt and bewildered, but Sanji preferred her to be so, instead of in pain and humiliated. His raging hardon had passed; almost quickly, as if softened by Nami's now obvious femininity. And the dark confusion which fell over him only accentuated the drinking.

And it left emptiness in its wake, and his inebriation had quickly claimed priority. So Sanji had allowed himself to sink into the depths of his condition, depressed and confused at the mixture of emotions that were running unchecked in his body.

Now Nami was gone, and everybody else was, no doubt, enjoying the pleasures of their partners. He was all alone and very wasted. And very alone and confused. He was only human, damn it. He had faults and annoying little nuances and two nipples.

Sanji sighed again and turned to look over at the other side of the beach where the noise and distant glow confirmed that the Water 7 party at Upper Yard was far from over.

He had nothing else to do. Maybe he should go pay _it_ a visit.

Sanji chucked the rest of his beer into the sand and tossed the bottle he had picked up after Nami had left, into the garbage can.

And started up the beach to Upper Yard in the opposite direction Nami had taken, his own footsteps disappearing in a matter of seconds underneath the waves just like Nami's had done. The end result being the vanishing of every single trace of evidence that they had been together and that they had been in love.

~0~

Sanji almost regretted his decision to undertake the trek to Upper yard after the first few minutes. It was only a five minute walk to reach the bonfire, but in his current state, it could have been hours. Every step seemed to pull him back.

He swayed alarmingly as the world seemed to tilt and flicker. Sanji set his eyes on the approaching fire and set it as his goal, refusing to focus on anything else. _Just one foot before the other…_

As he neared, Sanji could see that people were dancing around the fire, most looked as drunk as he felt, and others were sitting around the rocks laughing and talking. No one seemed to be noticing his approach. Sanji recognized a few faces from East Blue High, but where was…? Him?

In his condition, Sanji had accepted that seeing Zoro would somehow calm him, restore him to his former optimistic lively self, and reveal to him the mysteries of the universes. It was enough to galvanize him into walking into the depths of Water 7 without fear or hesitance. Completely unaware of how dangerous that was, especially how he was in his current state.

Sanji walked slowly into the tight circle and cautiously smiled as everyone quieted down for a second and stared at him. There was a sudden silence as dark eyes measured him and marked hm.

He smiled and nodded his head, and waved at Usopp. The sharpshooter was surprised enough to wave a little in return. Sanji could feel his nerves tingling fuzzily, hampered by the alcohol, and the world kept swimming in and out of focus, a misty haze seemed to have descended-

"Cook?" A husky voice broke the silence.

A familiar voice broke through Sanji's mist and he turned happily to greet the owner. His grin faded as he saw the mosshead. Zoro was sitting with his back to one of the encroaching rocks, and his lap was filled with pinkhaired woman.

Sanji's eyes drifted over her, more from habit than actual appreciation. She was wearing a tight little shirt and a small skirt. Zoro was barechested wearing a pair of faded jeans. The girl's legs were wrapped around his back and her arms were similarly wrapped around Zoro's muscular, tanned neck. All in all, they looked very comfortable with one another. The pinkhaired girl looked at him strangely, cute applebud mouth slightly open in surprise, the pink lipstick smudged. He could see faint traces of pink around Zoro's plain lips. And immediately Sanji felt like ripping the bitch off his lap. This had to be a nightmare.

Zoro stared at him through his own set of bloodshot eyes, and Sanji wondered briefly if he looked the same. "Cook?" Zoro repeated, as if he wanted to confirm Sanji's existence. The black eyes burned into his own and it seemed to Sanji that they saw in him, through him, past him.

"Shithead." Sanji agreed it seemed like he was falling into Zoro's eyes. The blackness drew him in. And then the world faded for good.

~0~

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing this crazier shit. **

**[1] Sanji's sailor outfit: I was looking through a magazine and there was this cute guy posing with nothing but some tight, little shorts. And his dick was fucking huge! Seriously, the thing was **_**massive.**_** It looked like it could have run marathons, scaled mountains, and run for mayor. I was **_**awed.**_** And I had a revelation, I thought, '**_**this…is what Sanji's dick looks like.'**_** That was the inspiration for that. xD**

**[2] If you think there's too many drug references, read something else. Ho-ho-ho! xD **


	10. Everything Went Numb

Chapter Ten

Everything Went Numb

Destination unknown but I had this vision n my mind's eye; this is my decision  
Every single dream every single fantasy every single love every single enemy; its all for me  
Do you believe that you can change the world?  
Do you believe that you can change the world?  
Freedom of speech freedom of truth your freedom to do  
What the fuck you heart wants you to do it's all for you  
Lifestyles of the rich and the famous; is it all a dream or can you obtain it  
Everybody seems to be selling out their souls for the fame  
We fucking love sex drugs and rock and roll  
Maybe one day we will realize that the answers in our heart  
But were killing our own lives and it's tearing us apart  
One life to live gonna make it positive for this world that we live in  
This is my decision  
So I'm tired of the questions I'm tired of second guessing  
Everyday of my life is just another lesson  
Don't know what I'm destined for my life is a mess and  
All I want to do is get out and fly  
Now I sit and I trip fucking life wanna quit  
But I can't and I won't here I am all alone  
Another day another dollar  
No money in my pocket  
I walk over to the mic turn it on  
Time to rock it  
This is my version of a sermon  
Straight from my heart I will spill every word and  
All I wanna do is live a life that's certain  
To find the love that I've been searching for

Time for me to make to make it on my own now  
Here I go watch me go where I go now  
I don't know what road I'm gonna go down  
All I know is what I know and what I know now  
-_"What I Know", Rebelution _

~0~

His stomach cringed and flopped and fluttered; the adrenaline whooshed through his bloodstream and his heart beat and beat and beat in ways which he never thought possible. What _the fuck was the stupid cook doing over here? _Zoro's mind raced. _Wasn't he all lovey-dovey with his equally stupid girlfriend? I don't fucking want him here! I don't fucking want him here!_

_I fucking want him here, oh god save me. _

That feeling all over him.

That feeling crawling and creeping over the pores of his skin.

That feeling of events beyond his control running together in brutal coincidence to destroy him, to baptize him in some unendurable fire, to drive him insane was threatening to overwhelm him. That feeling that history was happening all around him and that something crucially fundamental was spinning itself out right before his eyes and he was powerless to stop it, much less understand it.

That sensation, that certainty that everything had gone numb, that life had stopped and caught fire, that this was a point of no return, it was choking him.

_Fuck me¸ what the hell is happening? _

When Sanji had stepped into the circle, Zoro had just stared at him amiably, thinking that the blond chef was just another product of his over drugged imagination. But he looked so goddamn real that Zoro just had to make sure that he wasn't real. He tried squinching his eyes shut a few times and then reopening them to see if Sanji had disappeared. But when the shitty cook refused to go away, Zoro had called his name.

Sanji turned around, grinning like an idiot, but then his smile had vaporized when he actually saw him. Zoro thought maybe it had something to do with Perona-it was obvious with the way Sanji was glowering at her-but he couldn't find a reason for Sanji to have some problem with her. It wasn't like he was jealous or anything. Why the hell would he be?

"Shithead." Sanji said, amiably. Then the whites of his eyes rolled up and his knees unhinged and the next thing Zoro knew was that there was a passed out Sanji right in front of him. And the world spiraled out and extinguished itself. The events which happened from them on were all in an alternate universe, the dynamics of which he had never before seen or even suspected.

Perona giggled, "He doesn't hold his beer very well, does he Zoro, darling? Not at all like you-eeek!" She let out a surprised squawk as Zoro shoved her to the side and got up, quickly moving to Sanji's side and feeling the blond man's fevered forehead, clammy with sweat and shifting Sanji to a more comfortable position. He could feel the thick silence in the air and the eyes of everyone on him. His hands shifted stupidly on Sanji, unsure.

_Oh, why'd you come here you fucking idiot? You goddamn stupid ass! Don't you know we'll fucking kill you? _

Zoro's mind was racing inside. Why had Sanji come here? To see him, the answer was obvious. There would be no other reason for him to come to Upper Yard. But why would he come to see him? Probably for the same reason he had wanted to come to Upper Yard-so close to Angel Beach- in the first place. So that they could see each other. The questions and answers poured frighteningly fast into his overtaxed mind.

But he had the good grace to feel a little ashamed of himself, he had just sulked around, hoping that he would see Sanji in some way; while Sanji had taken matters into his own hands and walked right into the heart of enemy territory. Bastard must have a nutsack made of pure unalloyed steel.

After they had almost shared a _kiss_ that long ago day, Zoro had avoided the cook like crazy. He wasn't sure really, why. It just had seemed like the right thing to do. Zoro thought, that if he avoided Sanji then maybe the whole confusion would leave quietly and maybe he life would return to fucking normal. Ah, he remembered those days, the good old days when he wasn't of a _questionable orientation_-

"Ah,_ shit_!"

Zoro looked up to see an annoyed Ace entering the circle, buckling his belt and pulling his shorts up again, followed by a very dazed looking Valentine. Zoro had to grin ruefully for a moment; Ace had that effect on women.

"Did I lose the fucking bet?" Ace demanded, looking hard at the unconscious Sanji and at Zoro kneeling at his side.

"No dude, I don't rape passed out guys." Zoro snorted. His muscles working to keep the expression of cool and calculated solidarity on his face and genuine. His dark green eyes stayed on Ace's face, because a dread suspicion in his heart told him that that if he looked down at Sanji now, he would lose his cool. He would lose himself in that face and that body.

"Oh, that's good then." Ace said, relieved, "What the fuck is he doing here then? Isn't his nice little birthday party on the other side? Or was he so slammed he missed the way to the bathroom and ended up here?"

_What?_

This was a new thought to Zoro, he hadn't thought of that. He looked back at the unmoving figure of Sanji. What if Sanji hadn't wanted to see him, and had only ended up here by accident? He felt a little disappointed as that thought took root in his mind.

_No, he came to see _me. _He came for me, goddamn it!_

Well, whatever had caused the cook to get drunk and land here could be figured out later, as for now he couldn't stay here. It wasn't safe. Zoro could feel the building malevolence. The party was on, but more than a couple sets of eyes were flickering back and forth between him and Sanji.

"Hey, where you going?" Ace asked, sitting himself down near Perona and coaxing the dazed Valentine into his lap. His freckled face suffused with mirth as Zoro hauled Sanji into his arms.

Zoro shifted Sanji a little in his arms, the guy wasn't light at all; but he would like to see the day he called something _heavy_. It was much easier to carry a person bridal fashion, so Zoro immediately shifted Sanji into that position. And at once, a feeling of protectiveness took strong root in his spirit. And immediately he felt beyond stupid for feeling so.

"Can I use your car, Robin?" Zoro asked quietly. "I'm taking him home."

"Why bother? Just leave him on the sand, or throw him into the ocean to wake him up." Ace laughed. "He doesn't deserve more. Or are you going to be the good guy in all this?"

Zoro forced a plastic smile on, "If I'm nice to him; then maybe he'll soften up and spread his legs a little more willingly. You know? I'm still planning on ripping you a new one Portgas D. Ace, five hundred bucks outta your wallet is going to have you working the streets. "

Ace smirked, "The day I start selling _this_," and the older D. brother gestured magnanimously at his body, "is the day that I turn prostitution into a fucking _monopoly."_

There was a burst of laughter, and Zoro grinned, grateful that once again Ace's obscenely huge ego had distracted the others from a crucial event, "We'll see about that."

"Yeah, you'll see all right…" Ace turned and began chatting with Valentine on his lap, their noses brushed delicately and Valentine said something which made Ace throw back his head and laugh hard.

"Whatever." Zoro said, and taking advantage of the distraction, turned back to Robin. "Hey, let's go Ro, please?"

Robin nodded, "I'll drive you, you'll get lost if you go by yourself." She got up and picked up her purse, walking back across the beach to the parking lots, Zoro quickly followed, clutching Sanji close as he made his way through the almost-but-not-quite accusatory looks of his friends. He could hear the party starting up again after he was a few yards away; well at least, the rest of his friends would finish the night as planned.

Five minutes after his departure, Ace remembered and looked up. Immediately noting Zoro's absence, he chuckled and scratched at the back of his neck, "Well, there goes by five hundred bucks."

Valentine leaned in and snuggled close, "How much would you pay _me_ if…"

And Zoro was once again forgotten.

~0~

Robin got into the driver's seat of her small car as Zoro shifted Sanji into the back seat, climbing in next to him to keep an eye on him.

"Where to?" she asked, as she pulled into the freeway and flicked on her lights, it was fully dark now, around 10 PM.

Zoro thought for awhile, he had no idea where Sanji lived, and he didn't look bad enough to take to the hospital, so that left-

"My place." Was that a note of guilt in his voice? Was that a seasoning of repressed eagerness and slight embarrassment curdling the very words in his mouth? And for some reason, he blushed hotly. The pink stain on his cheeks feeling like a heated brand. He felt oddly perverted.

If Robin was surprised, she gave no sign, "Your place it is." She said simply, and turned to concentrate on her driving.

Then the strange surreality began in earnest.

He was staring at the back of Robin's seat, mind wandering along a labyrinth whose walls seemed slightly organic, face still warm. And then suddenly, a force like gravity seemed to envelop him, to invade his skin and grab a hold of the muscles in his neck. It was an irresistible force, and Zoro found himself turning, giving in to the want.

Zoro took advantage of the silence to study Sanji in the dim orange light of the passing streetlights. Sanji would fade in an out of view as the car passed from patches of warm electric lights to the darkness in between the lampposts. It was trippy. As he watched, Zoro saw little fishes swim around Sanji's body. He paid no notice, and they disappeared after a while.

Sanji was barechested, wearing only a pair of soaked thin beach shorts, and his skin and yellow hair glowed orangey in the streetlights. As Zoro watched, Sanji shivered unconsciously, his body feeling his damp shorts and the chill of the night through his drunken, passed-out state.

_Guy needs to be warm. Guy's going to catch the flu. _

The innocent observation seemed to justify his scooting over the backseat until he was pressed up against Sanji, whose head rolled over to the side and settled into the crook of Zoro's shoulder; and snuggled the cold figure of the cook into his side. It was a perfect fit. Sanji seemed to mold completely into his own body.

_What the hell am I talking about? He's burning!_

Zoro could still feel the substance working through his system, lifting him, relaxing him. Maybe that's why he took Sanji's chin in his hand and turned the handsome up to his, just to study it, he told himself. It was to distract himself from the perpetual heat which permeated from Sanji's inert body. How the touch _soaked_ him. He felt everything in his heart and his spirit clamoring to be heard, clamoring to confess how it felt to be so close to this man.

Zoro's other hand brushed away the golden bangs to reveal the other eye and eyebrow, which were decidedly normal. His hand fell away, letting the hair fall back into place, instead, it shifted, along with the hand holding Sanji's chin, to cup the cook's soft cheeks, causing his lips to purse out ridiculously.

Zoro laughed softly, and eased up the pressure on his hands so that the chef stopped making those fishy lips. This was fun.

Something was rising from within himself. Something large and hollow and sad to the point of sorrow. It was impossible to drag his pupils from the closed eyes, the curve of the lips, the ash blond eyebrows, the lines of his cheekbones.

A trickling realization dripped into his heart.

_Last chance. This is the last one. _

_I'll never get another chance_. _So why not? Why the fuck not? Nobody has to know. Not even him. Not even him. And maybe I'll forget too. _

He could feel it in his veins turning each muscle lax and unresponsive, it seemed to heighten his sadness and cause him to want to follow up on the idea forming hazily in his woozy mind.

Sanji faded away, along with everything, as Robin left behind an orange lamppost and drove into the darkness of a country stretch. There was only a dim outline left from the faint light of the car's low beams. He couldn't tell who or what he was holding. But Zoro could feel the warmness of Sanji's cheeks and the shape of his jaw and ears clasped between his own calloused palms. It was a sensuous dichotomy.

_This is the only chance I'll get_.

But what chance? Get what? Why a chance? For whom? What was it that he would never get again? What? Why? Wherefore?

It seemed like he had once known, a long time ago, and distantly, but now he knew nothing except that he no longer knew and that there was warmth between his hands and there was a yearning on his lips and an empty ache between his lungs. It was all he knew before he brought his own face close to Sanji's and placed his lips on the cook's. In the obscurity and darkness of the backseat he felt like he was safe to feel, to want, and to ache for as his body desired.

The warmth, the silence, the darkness spun out. They had been forsaken there, together.

_This is wrong, but who gives a fuck?_

Zoro didn't make any movement at first; just relishing the fact that he was _kissing_ Sanji, though it definitely one sided and with Sanji unconscious to boot. But he was _kissing_ Sanji. _Kissing _him!

_His lips are like everybody else's. _The thought surprised him even as he thought-

_The best lips I've ever kissed. _

He gave Sanji's lips some experimental licks. The blond cook was delicious, an appetizing mixture of three sultry sins, alcohol, smoke, and sex; and the shifting of his hands worked so, that Sanji's mouth fell open and he entered. His heart was beating hard, loud and meaty thumps against his meaty ribcage.

Zoro closed his eyes as his tongue moved dreamily around Sanji's warm, wet, lax mouth and gave a few licks before heading out. Somewhere, something was telling him to go slowly, go slowly, go slowly, so that Sanji didn't wake up. Not before he finished anyway. He could feel his groin heating up already, not just from the fact that he was feeling up a undeniably gorgeous man that was half naked in the backseat of a car; but because Sanji was completely helpless and forbidden territory. He was eating of the Apple and renouncing Paradise every time his mouth moved and his tongue slid out and tasted.

Sanji let out a small sigh, and Zoro stiffened, willing those blue eyes to stay shut, to open and see him.

But they stayed shut, oblivious. And it was so dark, all Zoro could see was a dim orange outline. It was a teasing, magical sight that fueled the blushing arousal which was slowly spreading through every cell of his body.

His tongue ran over Sanji's throat, like he had done so many times before in dreams, tasting that special sweet-sour tang of human skin and sweat. He kissed it, softly, gently. Kissed it and kissed it and kissed it. Each time he laid his lips on that warm, familiar skin, it was not enough.

_I am dying._

Zoro could hear the blood running through his veins, could picture the tiny red blood cells passing through shiny vessels, if he tried Zoro could swear he could have imagined the tiny atoms of carbon and hydrogen dancing in his plasma.

_I am so fucking high_.

No shit.

But still, his hands ran over Sanji's finely chiseled chest and abs. Rubbing his sides almost hard enough to hurt and sliding his palms over exposed hips and ridges of his pelvic bones. His mouth remained on the neck, like some strange vampire. Feeling the slow beat of the pulse through the thin, sensitive skin of his lips. Mesmerized by the throb. It held him, rapt.

Zoro closed his eyes, so that the blackness fully enveloped him and he was left fully at the mercy of his other senses. And because suddenly his eyelids seemed beyond heavy, impossible to hold up.

And the downward tilt of his head, the feeling of slight exhaustion that justified the dropping of his head, also justified the kisses he placed on Sanji's chest. He let himself leisurely lick and lap at Sanji's pectorals, searching for the nipple. Pretending not to.

The wait and expectancy heightening the sexual tension building up in his tightening jeans. It was so much like the other times where he quickly and furtively masturbated to fantasies of something similar, that it was hard to believe that he wouldn't wake up with himself in his own hand. No, this was the real thing. Almost. Imagine if those beautiful blue eyes were open and this sensual, tough body was willing.

Zoro felt his cock ache and leak in his pants as his tongue finally passed over a small bud and his mouth eagerly swallowed it, giving it due attention and devotion.

Huge purple and red roses bloomed in his mind. They morphed into great flaming wheels. There was something utterly delightful in his mouth, tasting like salty skin, bumpy.

So different from a woman's breast. There was no superfluous flesh; though Sanji's chest wasn't flat; his chest had the defined pectorals which drove women crazy. Zoro felt it, traced the curve now with his tongue and loved his way down to the ripped stomach.

The fishes were back. Their scales were in iridescence of color. They passed through his retinas.

Sanji definitely had an amazing sixpack. Zoro wondered briefly how much the cook trained to keep in such splendid form. Almost as much as he did, probably. And at once he smiled into Sanji's hard stomach as he thought that. No one trained as much as he did.

_I train harder than you Sanji , for my dream. No one is as strong as me, not even you. Sorry…_

Zoro licked apologetically at Sanji's abs, enjoying the way his tongue went over the muscled bumps and dips. He could do this forever.

Then his tongue hit wet cotton, and Zoro frowned, annoyed, before realizing just what was impeding his way and what was on the other side of the obstacle, and how his head was completely and utterly in Sanji's lap. And everything stunned and refreshed him. A thousand epiphanies condensed in one realization and the fright was immense but the lust was cosmic.

It was the pot, the fucking pot.

It was him, it was his own fucking needs.

It was Sanji, it was Sanji's fucking bad boy attitude, beautiful blue eyes and rippling physique.

Zoro eased Sanji's shorts down, bit by bit, with trembling hands until he could feel Sanji's curly blonde hair and oh his own cock was singing. And all he wanted to do was look at the cook's cock and confirm forever that cook was a guy, like him, and so attempt to understand what it all meant, that he liked and wanted this man.

"We're here Zoro." Robin said suddenly stopping the car.

And the slam back into the real world was like the fall from heaven. Everything was rudely shoved from his mind in one second and the colors of the world reasserted themselves harshly.

_Shit!_

His eyes flew open, and his hands flew to yank up Sanji's shorts, barely registering the pang of regret which bolted through him, and he had barely enough time to throw himself to the opposite side of the unconscious blond before Robin turned around to check their status.

Her blue eyes gave away nothing, if there was anything to give. There was no knowing smile dancing around the corners of her mouth; no imp waving mischievously from her periwinkle irises. But then, Robin was ever a secretive woman, a lady who could hide her very existence.

"Yeah." Zoro muttered. He opened his car door and got out, pausing to smooth down the front of his jeans, as Robin got out of her seat. He was sure the semi-hardon was inconspicuous. The cold air ruffled silky fingers through his short, green hair and he shivered softly. It all seemed very unreal and perfectly natural.

He turned back, eyes futilely peering into the backseat, just barely making out the dark outline of Sanji's violated figure. He shivered again and immediately shook his head harshly to clear it.

Robin's eyes measured him silently before she turned on her heel and walked off to go unlock the front door with the car keys jingling cheerfully in her right hand while Zoro slid Sanji out of the backseat, picked him up again, and followed after. Feeling both uncomfortable with the exposed nearness of his body and absolutely elated.

~0~

"I can't stay long, Zoro" Robin murmured to him, careful not to wake up Sanji, it seemed the blond had lapsed out from unconsciousness back to the normal status of regular sleep. "My mother is expecting me anytime now."

"That's okay." Zoro answered, "You can go now if you want, you need to sleep so you can go to work tomorrow. Thanks a lot for the ride." Robin always reminded him of a young Victorian girl when she referred to her only parent. It was never mom or mommy or momma. It was always, 'my mother', achingly polite and iced formality at its most defined.

Robin nodded, "What are you going to do about him?" she gestured to Sanji who was cuddled up on the couch on Zoro's living room.

Zoro shrugged, "He'll have to stay here until he wakes up. I have no fucking idea where he lives. Then I'll probably give him a ride there on my bike."

Robin paused a while to contemplate the irony of that, and nodded again, "Okay, I have to go now." She turned to leave, and stopped at the door, "His shorts are all wet; you should change him, or he'll catch a cold."

Zoro felt warm blood crashing into his cheeks. That damn woman, she knew all along and had just been waiting to throw it into his face. "Yeah. Whatever. Get out of here."

Robin smiled, "I think today is a beautiful night in many ways. Perhaps entities which have heretofore been hidden shall now be revealed." And then she was gone, her words spinning lazily in Zoro's mind.

"I lost you at 'night'." He said instead the empty room, unsure and a little unwilling to dwell on her words. All he could think was that Robin always seemed to speak with the prose of an ancient bard. She should have been born in another era.

But…

Zoro glanced back at Sanji, and noticed that Robin had been rather right. Sanji was shivering still in his sleep, his arms snaking around himself in an effort to keep warm. His head shaking slightly, as if even in his sleep he was refusing to cooperate.

Zoro sighed and started for the cold cook who had somehow ended up on his couch at 10 PM at night. What strange and fucked up universe was this that he had to deal with this shit? But, whatever, he didn't have any objections to seeing Sanji naked, so he might as well get the man warm.

He paused to look at the sleeping form, his brow furrowed in concentration. His mind was clearer now, and there really wasn't anything to do but wonder about what he had done and why he had done it and if it was a sign of something he didn't even want to think about.

_Why do you make me want to do that to you…Sanji? Why do I not want to hurt you?_ _Why do I feel like protecting you?_ _Why do I wonder what it's like to fuck a guy for the first time in my life? Why?_ _What the fuck did you do to me you shitty blond? I think I'm falling insane for you. _

The thought made him chuckle, the innocent play on words, and Zoro reached out and traced the edge of Sanji's strong jaw, feeling the minute rasp of the cook's unshaved stubble before he abruptly turned and headed for his bedroom.

His parents worked during the night and were at meetings and conferences during the day; they were almost never home. The house they called home was very neat and nicely furnished, but that was it. A casual observer would just see a normal American home; but a more observant onlooker would notice the dust overlaying everything and the newspapers dated a year ago lying on the kitchen table.

His parent's bedroom was always dark and empty; he had never felt the urge to go inside. It wasn't that his parents hated him or anything melodramatic like that. They were always so busy that they had simply seemed to have overlooked him. Zoro couldn't say that had abandoned him, there was always just enough money, and his bike on his sixteenth birthday. And if he ever needed anything more, there was always Blackbeard to turn to. No gang member could complain of lacking money. Sure, Blackbeard didn't hand out fistfuls of cash, but he could be counted on to pay the rent of his follower's apartments…or their bail. Pleasant thought, that.

Zoro could honestly say that he was better off, financially, than ninety percent of Water 7. Not many could boast of having parents that provided for them, and a rich gang leader. Usopp, for example, didn't have any parents and barely managed, with the cash Blackbeard gave him, to pay for his and his three 'kids' existences. Which is why the sharpshooter always wore his dingy old overalls.

And the reason why he had agreed to become a hitmen. The pay was good, and he and his kids had to eat. Of course, the pay wasn't as good if Usopp had been operating solo, Blackbeard took a huge chunk out of the profits from his pay, but Usopp wouldn't have lasted a week by himself, without Blackbeard's protection in Water 7.

Ace didn't have parents either and wasn't a great favorite with Blackbeard, he never got money, and his whole existence depended on the charity of his friends or what Luffy managed to save up to give him.

Except Ace would only accept Luffy's help unless he desperately needed it. Ace was a proud man.

Only Zoro's own bedroom showed some signs that a living being occupied it. It wasn't messy exactly, there wasn't enough stuff to constitute a mess, but at least the trashcan was half full and his bed had a slept-in look to it.

Zoro headed to the closet and took out a pair of pajama bottoms-they had a cute little sword design-and one of his old, large shirts. It said _I love Moss!_ In large green letters. A present from Ace long ago. Though at the time Zoro had tried his very best to forcefeed the shirt to his freckled friend, he had ended up keeping it and wearing it often. It was a personal gift that had a lot more affection in it then a wad of money left by his parents on the kitchen table.

On his way back to Sanji, Zoro stopped by the bathroom to grab a towel. It too, was green. And picked up an extra quilt from the utility/storage room. It was a blue almost as stunning as Sanji's eyes.

Sanji still hadn't woken up; Zoro made an amused sound through his nose-_that bastard could sleep through anything. _Well, hopefully he'd stay that way, at least for the next few minutes.

Zoro spread Sanji out on the couch so his head touched one armrest and his feet hit the other side. He noticed with wry amusement that there was a wet spot on the couch were the moisture of his damp shorts had seeped through. Then proceeded to strip the blonde of his only garment. But the want that had been near pulsating in his very being had long since been extinguished. There was only an amiable curiosity as to _how big_. Purely competitive.

Zoro gave his nether regions the old once-over. Noticing that they were again, equally matched, and feeling the same disappointment that Sanji had again had equaled him in something. But he was too tired to care; was so fucking tired to the depths of his bones that all he wanted to do was crawl beside Sanji and just pass out. He didn't feel like he could manage a hard-on if he tried anyway, his dick was just too tired from all the constant teasing it was receiving. Poor thing.

He didn't even notice that, somewhere in the depths of his psyche, in the very pith that makes people, human, he had accepted the fact that this man was sexually desirable.

But his mind wasn't trained to think in such philosophical and delicate frameworks. And Zoro slid the pajama pants up Sanji's muscular thighs until they rested on his hips, and slid the _I love Moss!_ shirt over his head, pausing to rearrange Sanji's arms into the holes, not caring about how whatever was between this man and him was going to change him in fundamental ways.

Then, his eyelids already heavy from sleep, Zoro slid the green towel underneath Sanji so that it would keep the damp off of him and threw the heavy quilt over the cook. Only pausing to gaze softly at the sleeping form, unaware of his own look, and gave it a second to decide, before he picked up the edge of the quilt and slid into the already warming-up interior.

"God, you're so warm, Sanji." He murmured, slightly offended for some absurd reason. He was tempted to wrap his arms around Sanji's warm back, but decided that he might fall asleep like that and that might cause even more questions to arise. He settled instead for laying his head on Sanji's side and drifting off pleasantly.

He took the smell of ocean waves and of aromatic spices to the comforting depths of sleep.

~0~

Anger, jealousy, self-pity, a deep sense of right and wrong. There were green eyes and a supple mouth, mouthing his name. Warm, gracious hands lifting him up from the cold. Hands which held him carefully, as if he was some sort of precious bundle. Warmth, above everything.

The familiar feeling of a mouth. The familiar feeling of a body.

_Damn…so warm...where am I?_

Dark and orange and wide, unhappy eyes which belied the sincere mouth which tickled him.

_So warm…_

The thoughts formed themselves fuzzily as he slowly came out of sleep. He was really warm, and he felt something heavy on his lower body. It felt like early morning; he always woke up at 5 AM on the dot to start preparing breakfast for the old geezer and the rest of the clients of the restaurant. The thoughts wandered in thoughtlessly, independent of his own being. And he had a massive headache. Scratch that_; hangover._

_Nami is going to kick my ass. _

He had drunken so much, and then he had walked to-

_Zoro-shit-_

Sanji sat bolt upright, causing the quilt that was over him to fall over and reveal his surroundings. And the person who was hugging his waist. Surprise that was not surprise flooded his senses and he was lost. He should have known. Known that something was up, that something was working in unfathomable ways inside of him which caused everything that anchored his very soul to tear up and rupture and send him hurtling toward an oblivion in which he had no say. Should have known when he felt the duplexities of emotions corkscrewing through him at the sight of that green head.

These thoughts did not form coherently in his mind; but they were there all the same.

"_Motherfucker!_" Sanji yelled, his own voice hurting his splitting head, and he scrambled to break away from Zoro who was determined to use his lower body as a teddy bear. His heart raced; more it tore from the very walls of his chest and bounced about his hollow, burning body.

"Hmm-shut it cook…zzz" Zoro muttered, tightening his grip and nuzzling his face deeper into Sanji's thigh, crotch area. His eyes squeezed shut, a small, lazy smile curling his lips.

And that was not good. Sanji felt himself blushing crazily, feeling stupidly touched and infuriated. Furious at himself and at Zoro for reacting so childishly, for allowing such a small touch to enflame him. That circular, snuggling movement-"Oi! Shithead, wake up! Get off of me!"

_Why am I here? Why is he here? Why are we together? Where am I? Who am I? What day is it?_

"Shut up… Zzzz." Zoro punctuated this statement by attempting to burrow his head between Sanji's legs, seeking warmth. Zoro's hands pawed at his pajama bottoms, the movements exactly like one who is attempting to draw the covers over his head.

"_Gahhh_!" Sanji nearly screeched, Zoro was just too fucking strong, he could feel his legs inexorably opening, and the awkward position prohibited him from using his full lower body strength; and Zoro seemed determined to use his sac for a pillow.

"Bastard, wake the fuck up and stop molesting me!" He slammed his hand into Zoro's ear. How the hell had he gotten into this position anyway? All he remembered was walking over to Upper Yard and seeing… Zoro and that chick. Where was she now? _Who had she been?_

"Jesus!" Zoro yelled, rubbing his ear, he had finally awoken "Fucking cook, let me sleep!"

Sanji took advantage of Zoro's loosened grip to squirm his way off the couch and get up. "Then stop molesting me you fucking pervert!" Hating that flush on his cheeks; feeling as if I damned him, marked him guilty for a crime whose likes he knew not, but whom he had undoubtly committed all the same. His words were harsh, because he-

-_didn't mind it? _

"Molesting you-What?" Zoro stared at him, with a weird look of guilt on his face struggling with the drowsy look of interrupted sleep. He yawned and scratched his chest.

Sanji glared at him, hands wiping at his crotch, "You were _snuggling_ into me!" The way he said it, snuggling was a capital offense, equivalent to first-degree homicide and punishable by life imprisonment to death. And his mind ached trying to understand the words _Zoro, him, _and _snuggling_ in relation to each other.

Now Zoro looked relived, though Sanji had no idea why, the bastard had no right to look relieved, "Oh." Zoro said simply, and then not looking at him, "What? You were warm. I was cold."

"Whatever." He muttered, not wanting to explore that topic further, "Where the hell am I, how the hell did I get here, and what the hell happened?" he demanded, not really caring about the answers to his questions, he really could be in South Africa for all he cared, but because he had to say _something_, say something and stop _looking at his nipples. _

He ran a hand distractedly through his hair and turned around. Eyes flitting from one mundane object to another. "Well?" he grated, cursing inwardly, knowing he sounded like the world's biggest prick.

Zoro's came out in a low growl behind him, and it sent shivers, pleasant shivers, up his spine. He couldn't help turning around and devouring the man with his eyes. Knowing he did it, helpless not to. Confusion ripping his soul apart, and the ripping was fine and he knew it.

"Stop being such a prick will you? I was out minding my own damn business, when you come waltzing into our party, call me a shithead, then pass out like a fucking pussy, probably from drinking a glass of snobby wine. So I'm kind and considerate enough to fucking pick you up from the floor and take you somewhere safe, my home, and then I wake up to a shithead screeching. That's what happened you bitch."

Harsh breathing as they measured each other. Eyes wide and angry and afraid. Afraid of the feelings, the coincidences, the way fate was drawing them together. Intertwining their destinies inexorably.

He took a deep breath, there was no reason why he should be so affected. What he needed to do know was take a breath, calm himself, and say-

"I'm sorry."

_More idiot. Have some damn balls and tell him. Apologize. You said some pretty harsh things. Own up. _

Sanji felt like the tongue was stuck to the back of his throat. But knowing that it was necessary, that it was common _decency, _he continued, feeling the words drag themselves out. There needed to be some sort of semblance within their lives, there needed to be order. Being angry would solve nothing.

"I'm sorry Zoro. I…I didn't know…that you did all this for me…Sorry I bitched at you. I know this sounds like a shitty excuse…and maybe it is…it _probably _is…but I had a rough night last night…You took care of me though…thanks…" he said slowly, jerkily. "I had no idea…"

Zoro nodded awkwardly, looking anywhere but at him, "It's okay."

Sanji scratched at the back of his head, "No its not. I'm a bitch."

"Agreed." Zoro laughed, leaning back against the sofa.

"Look, I'll make it up to you." He said, a sudden idea gleaning itself out from inside his dark and cluttered mind. It was his form of asylum, and he grasped it desperately, as a drowning man grasps at a lifesaver.

"How?" Zoro asked, his tone curious.

"I'll cook breakfast for you. You'll love it." he said happily and walked over to the kitchen. Food. Food would set it all right. _Cooking_ would. Not sure how that could be, but sure all the same.

"Don't bother," Zoro called after him, "There's no food in the kitchen."

"What—Oh, you're right," Sanji frowned as he peered into the deserted pantry, "What's up with your kitchen? What do you eat? The counters?"

"I usually eat at Ace's or Robin's place." Zoro explained as he disentangled himself from the quilt and got up, following Sanji into the kitchen, wincing from the coldness of the kitchen tiles on his bare feet. "My parents usually eat at their offices."

"Well, you should have some stuff at home too, in case you ever want a quick snack or something. Put on a shirt will you?" Sanji turned and frowned at Zoro was in all his barechested glory, leaning on a counter. Sanji couldn't keep his eyes from running jealously along the lines of smooth muscle and rugged flesh. Damn, was Zoro ripped. He felt so _stupid_ even _noticing. _

Zoro smirked at him, loving the way Sanji's eyes _molested _him, feeling vindicated. "Why? Feeling inferior?"

"Hardly. In fact—wait, why do I have a shirt on? And pajamas?" Sanji frowned down at his unfamiliar attire, "What the fuck, 'I love moss'? I don't love moss. This is something _you'd_ wear." He plucked uncomfortably at the threads.

"Yeah, that's my stuff." Zoro said, giving Sanji _a have-a-problem-with-it? _stare. "You were half-naked and your shorts were dripping, I didn't want you tracking water all over my house and getting my furniture wet. I don't have enough as is. And this house can't get any filthier or the neighbors are going to call me out on it."

Sanji shrugged, and turned back to the cabinets, remembered that there was nothing there, and turned back to Zoro, before remembering, "I should thank you for that too."

Zoro bit back a grin, looking beyond smug, nearing _prick_. "No problem."

Sanji nodded and proceeded to brush past him, back into the living room. Zoro followed. He was at a loss at what to do, he stood dazed in the living room, staring at the sofa where he had been heretofore sleeping.

Zoro broke the silence, "So, you want a ride home or what?"

Sanji jumped, "Uh, yeah. That'd be nice…If it's not too much of a bother…" The tension between them would suffice to power the homes of a third world country. Seriously.

Zoro headed off, snatching up a lanyard of keys while he headed off, "It's Saturday. I got nothing better to do then drop a girl a ride."

"Oi!"

And just like that-the awkwardness fell away and they were themselves again. Almost. Such strange circumstances had forced them into each other's destinies again that neither even so much as remembered what had forced them apart to begin with.

~0~

"Don't you have anything other than this?" he complained, frowning down at Zoro's old black Harley. It wasn't something he wanted to ride. It reminded him off too many B movies in which the preppy cheerleader rode off on the football captain's Harley. He was not a cheerleader, preppy or otherwise.

Zoro shrugged, sliding into his black leather jacket, "Like what?" he asked, throwing the other scuffed black motorcycle jacket at him. He caught it out of instinct, but refused to put it on.

"Like a car!" he snapped _Like something I don't have to wrap my arms around your waist _his mind finished, he frowned down at the jacket in his hands. How many girls had worn this before him? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? Why was he even wondering?

_I'm the first guy. That's for sure. _

_No, Ace is. _

The thought disturbed him.

"This is all I have. Deal with it." Zoro laughed, throwing his leg over the seat and turning the key, effectively bringing the engine to life."You know how hard it is to learn to ride one of these?"

Sanji briefly debated calling the whole thing off, but then the creeping feelers of excitement kicked in. He took in the daredevil smile on Zoro's face as he gunned the engine; the creaky oiliness of the leather clothes; the bright morning sun; the fresh breeze; it was a day that promised adventure and smelled of possibility. Was he really going to stand around and complain about small shit?

"Ah, fuck it." Sanji said and shrugged into the leather jacket, swinging one pajama clad leg over the backseat and settling in. _Painfully _aware of the proximity of certain anatomical landmarks. He scooted away, hands gingerly holding onto Zoro's sides as if the moss were covered in some nasty shit.

Zoro didn't seem to have any such qualms, "Hey, don't back away from me, I don't bite" Before Sanji could protest or avoid it, Zoro twisted around and pulled him forward again so that they were flush against each other again. Not content with that, Zoro seized Sanji's hands and linked them around his waist; smashing them together, not seeming to care if he popped one of Sanji's thumbs out of its damn socket.

A loud, whiny siren was screeching and wailing in his head. It suspiciously sounded like _whatthefuuuck-_

"Oi! What-" he spluttered, too in shock to move himself; the actions of a man who suddenly and inexplicably finds himself covered in a baby's fresh vomit.

"I can't have you flying off and breaking your idiot skull just cuz you're too fucking shy to grab onto me! I don't give a fuck if you die, but I might get a ticket or something." Zoro snapped back, accelerating quickly into the street, causing Sanji to jerk backwards and simultaneously tighten his grip around Zoro's waist. "Hold on tight!" Zoro couldn't help adding, smirking.

"I'm not _shy_!"Sanji yelled back, his voice dying in the rushing wind. He was glad of Zoro's turned back; his cheeks were bright red with fury. Or that's what he told himself. Who did Zoro think he was? A fifth grader still scared of cooties? A fucking homophobe?

It wasn't like he objected to touching Zoro…maybe that's why he was so embarrassed. He wanted to touch him. To feel him. Sanji could feel the primal desire coursing through his veins. Not so much a coherent thought; as it was a blatant need to feel the other man's skin and flesh.

It wasn't healthy to analyze so much. So what he wanted to feel Zoro? He had the same urges to pet puppies and run his hands through Nami's hair or to pick up a seashell and run the ball of his thumb over the smooth whorls-

His own denial of these strange instincts that made him want to put as much distance as he could between him and Zoro.

So much for that attempt. Zoro had forced him—though that was questionable—_you can't rape the willing—_forward, so that they were nearly humping each other sitting up. He had never felt so exposed to another person; his legs were spread as open as they were able so they could to accommodate Zoro's backside. But it wasn't even so much the _position _which made him feel naked, but the _who_ and the _where_ and the _why._

Sanji couldn't bring himself to admit that it felt comfortable. That he sure as hell didn't mind it and sure as hell liked it. And wasn't _that _filled with sexual connotations and wasn't he sane anymore?

And then there was that whole almost forgotten home-ec incident. Zoro had tried to kiss him. Sanji was certain. What had that been about? And what about his own nearly homosexual reaction? He'd have to ask Zoro about that before the day was done. If he remembered; it was hard to think cognitively with his arms wrapped around some dude.

"What'd you say?" Zoro yelled back, completely oblivious, his own voice muffled by the wind. He swerved the bike into another street. They were still in Water 7 areas. Dark and old.

Sanji sighed. He _really _didn't feel like tearing his throat raw, screaming futilely. Leaning forward a little more, he cupped his lips to Zoro's ear, and said loudly, "Forget it! I just said I'm not _shy _so shut the-"

The reaction was immediate, as soon as the first words trickled through; Zoro flinched away, and brought his shoulder up to meet his ear defensively. Sanji noticed with amusement that he had three dangling earrings. What was up with the _style?_ And with the sensitive _ears? _

"Drop me off at the Baratie! Do you know where that is!" Sanji continued yelling, his lips moving against the convolutions of Zoro's outer ear with a little more force than was necessary. Zoro shuddered and nodded quickly, taking a sudden right. Sanji almost laughed—Zoro's shoulder and neck kept _twitching—were his ears his weak spot?_ He smirked; he could _use_ this, man.

_Zoro Roronoa. Prepare to be fucked with. _

~0~

"You have sensitive ears." Zoro flinched again as the deep, drawling voice assaulted his senses again. It was a dedicated smoker's refined and smoky cadence, full of promise. Zoro was surprised he never noticed it before; but then again he hadn't had it sliding into his _ear_. "That's_ funny_. Who would have thought the great and _scary_ Zoro Roronoa would have such a delicate _fetish_." Zoro could have sworn he felt tongue.

_Concentrate on the road…ahhh!…Concentrate on the road...ahh...Concentrate on the fucking road! The hell is he doing?_

He felt Sanji shake with laughter as he shuddered again underneath him.

Zoro nearly moaned when Sanji started humming in his ear and issued up a thankful prayer to a God that didn't exist that he was wearing large, loose green pants that hid everything. _What the fuck do you think you're _doing_?_ he wanted to yell, but wasn't able to trust that his voice wouldn't come out all hoarse or squeaky.

Sanji wouldn't have been able to answer himself. Why was he feeling so playful all of a sudden, when just seconds before he had been hesitant to wrap his arms around the same man he was basically having ear sex with?

Zoro finally compromised and issued, not a moan, but a needy groan when he felt, without a shred of doubt, tongue and _teeth _swirl and scrape around his earlobe and earrings. Zoro could barely tell where he was going. He swore inwardly as he felt, rather than heard, Sanji laughing. Why the hell wasn't this freaking him out? Another_ guy_ had _licked _him! And he was _okay _with it! _Okay_ with it!

He simultaneously wanted this ride to end immediately and desperately hoped to never see the Baratie.

~0~

"Molesting pervert." Zoro said in a monotone as Sanji slid off the bike. They were in the parking lot of the Baratie. One hand was tugging disbelieving at his ear, another was curling in his jacket, fiddling.

Sanji laughed nervously, but still looking highly amused, "Payback for groping me in the morning bastard. Plus, admit you liked it, you kinky _freak_."

Zoro glared at him, his cheeks flushed, "I wasn't groping you! I was asleep! You were wide awake and raping me! End of fucking _discussion."_

"Calm down. I was just messing with you. Don't get too full of yourself mosshead. It's not like I would really do anything seriously." Sanji said coolly, turning his back on Zoro. "But I think it's you who owes me some explanations." The abrupt change in topic left him cold and oddly unhappy. Abandoned.

He felt an undeniable feeling of disappointment as Sanji turned away. It's _not like I would do anything seriously…_ admittedly, Zoro had been a little…_hopeful? _Hopeful that they could be warmer friends? But Sanji had just made it clear that it had been nothing. A joke. Of course it had to be. "What explanations?" he asked dully, not really caring, the day had lost its shine. If there had been some to begin with. Suddenly he was not so sure.

He saw Sanji throw a nervous glance around the parking lot as the early morning rush of customers began to stream in. "Not here. Let's go inside."

Zoro shrugged, some of his intrigue returning, what was it that the blond wanted to talk about in private? It better not be another false lead and teaser. He was sick of being led on, dumbly chasing after something that he desperately wanted but would never have.

Later, Zoro would look back and pinpoint that moment as the time where he finally acknowledged, without the excuses of alcohol or drugs or confusion or lust; that he did want after all.

~0~

Around twenty minutes later, Zoro found himself seated in a dimly illuminated private booth across from a nervous looking but determined Sanji.

The cook had disappeared for a while after he ordered some breakfast for both him and Zoro. He had reappeared just as the food was arriving, dressed in his usual attire-a dark black suit and light blue collar shirt underneath with a tie to top it off-and smoking. The moss shirt had disappeared; and Zoro took that as a bad omen. Ridiculous, he knew.

Zoro's stomach growled as he smelled the grub and dug in heartily; his only nourishment in the past twelve hours or so had been a shitload of beer and a pot joint. Probably the same could be said for the cook, minus the pot of course. And so there was a few minutes of silence as both parties devoured the eggs, ham, and mashed potatoes that had been served.

After, Sanji lit up again, and studied Zoro intently.

Zoro stared back candidly enough, he wasn't going to look away, "What cook? Times a' wasting. You wanted some sort of explanation or something? Ask and be done with it. I'm a busy man."

"Yeah. Why the fuck have-_were_-you ignoring me?" Sanji demanded, "After you ran out like a pussy, you avoided me like the plague."

Unbeknownst to Sanji, the knuckles of Zoro's hand, which was resting on his knee below the table, turned white as he gripped fiercely.

_I knew this was coming…_

Zoro fell into his prepared speech, "I'm sorry about that. I was going to talk to you about it, but thing's got in the way. That day, I wasn't feeling too good, because my girlfriend dumped me. She was blonde, like you. And when we were yelling at each other, you were so close, and um, your hair reminded me of hers and I, um, kind of wanted to um, _get near to you_—because I thought it was her. And then I came to my senses, and I was so embarrassed I had to leave." Zoro finished, hoping it sounded at least half-way sound. He couldn't tell what Sanji was thinking-the blond's facial expression was calm.

_Total Bullshit_, Sanji thought, amused, the _idiot can't lie at all. And his 'story' sounds so rehearsed; it's embarrassing to listen to. _

"Ah." Zoro heard Sanji say softly, "Is that what happened? You mistook me for your girlfriend?"

"Pretty much." Zoro said. The less said the better. He was too self-satisfied to realize that he had been screwed from the beginning.

"What was your girlfriend's name?"

"What—uh…uh..." Zoro realized with horror, that his mind was a blank, he threw a wild answer into the air, "Usoppa?"

"Usoppa."

"Yeah. That's her name."

"Usoppa."

"Yeah."

"Interesting name."

"Yeah." Zoro said lamely.

Sanji didn't say anything for a moment, just continued to study Zoro. After a while he said, "Are you going to stop avoiding me then, now that you know I'm not _Usoppa_?

Zoro shrugged, "I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Sanji laughed and nodded, "True." He got up and started to pick up the dirty plates, "Well then, I have to get to work. " He would get the real story in time, right now, he'd let it go. But Zoro would pay.

Zoro nodded and got up too, pulling out his wallet.

Sanji looked scandalized, "Put that away. You don't pay here. It's on the house."

Zoro grinned, "Thanks."

He turned to go before Sanji called his name, and he turned around again, a little too eagerly, in his opinion.

"Don't forget to bring your cute little mossy baby Monday for Home Ec."

"Say what?" Zoro asked, quirking an eyebrow, the blond must have finally gone over the edge.

"Dumbass. We're starting our new unit Monday—flour sack babies. We're supposed to act as parents and shit like that."

"That's stupid."

"Yeah, but we get graded on it. So don't forget. And it lasts for a couple weeks, so choose a good durable flour sack. I recommend All-Purpose Flour. And it has to be at least a little dressed up to look like a baby. I recommend getting it a footsie pajama."

Zoro rolled his eyes, "Fuck, do you want to have my baby?"

"Hells no."

He turned to go.

"Zoro!"

He turned back, "What?"

"I'll give you your pajama's back on Monday."

"Yeah. Don't worry about it."

He turned to go.

"Oh, wait, Zoro!"

"Now _what, _idiotcook?"

Sanji grinned at him and threw out his hands, palms up, "Thanks again for everything. You're one hell of a guy."

Zoro felt his throat tighten, "Yeah…don't worry about it….it's…its fine."

He turned to go, feeling a little lightheaded.

"Zoro! One more thing!"

"_What! Let me fucking go already idiotpervertedcook_!"

"I was just kidding, get out of here idiot mosshead. See you Monday."

~0~

**Author's Note: Thank you for Reviewing and Reading this Crazy Shit. **

**[1] I cleaned some of the drug references. As in, I made the names less explicit. I don't need people wondering about the experiences and wishing to try them. Don't get me wrong—Ah, let's not go there. **


	11. Telling Tales

Chapter Eleven

Telling Tales

Tell me baby what's your story?  
Where you come from  
And where you wanna go this time oh  
Tell me lover are you lonely?  
The thing we need is  
Never all that hard to find oh  
Tell me baby what's your story?  
Where do you come from  
And where you wanna go this time oh  
You're so lovely are you lonely?  
Giving up on the innocence you left behind

_-"Tell Me Baby", Red Hot Chili Peppers_

~0~

He chuckled to himself as he hefted a five pound All-Purpose Flour sack in his hands. He had a good idea to mess around with Zoro. HE hummed happily as he rearranged the materials for his little prank next to his flour baby and set it down on his bed.

Laughing outright, he picked up a little white shirt that he had picked up from the infant section of the clothing store and slid it on the baby; immediately after, he slid on tiny dark green trainers of a velvety material onto the sack. For the finish, he glued a piece of light green fabric on to the top of the flour sack and tied a black bandana around the head.

Grinning, Sanji uncapped a black sharpie marker and drew a pair of angry eyes hooded by arched eyebrows and a scowling mouth. On the sides, he drew ears, one with three dangling earrings.

"Perfect," Sanji murmured to the empty room. "But goddamn, it's ugly."

He couldn't wait until Monday.

Zoro was so fun to play around with, fun to fuck with; he was too serious at times—Sanji just wanted to throw a hearty punch into his stomach and pinch his cheeks to make him laugh. Or something corny like that. But when he wasn't serious; Zoro could be just as playful as him; more, even. It was such a strange and intriguing mixture of characteristics. He supposed it was this ability to pull off both the 'bad boy' role as well as the 'playful boyfriend' role that enabled Zoro to melt hearts and spread more than his fair share of pretty legs. The killer looks and godly body had its must help too, though.

_Fuck, Sanji, just admit you have a tiny crush on the man. _

_I'm just admiring his personality and hot body; that's nowhere _near_ 'crush'._

_Uh-huh. And don't forget you lick his ears on your spare time._

Sanji winced inwardly as he thought about _that_ again. It had seemed fun at the time; and it _had_ been, he still grinned when he thought of Zoro, helpless to stop his roving tongue, swerving to avoid crashing headfirst into a street pole, after Sanji had given him a rather aggressive nibble on his earlobe. Pretending that he had accidently opened his mouth a little too much when he was trying to talk. Cheapest, flimsiest excuse to have ever been born to a mortal mind.

Not until the moment had passed; had Sanji been rather surprised at his own daring, and the fact that Zoro had let him get away with it. It wasn't exactly what a pair of _straight _men would do, was it?

_Maybe it's time I start rethinking this whole 'I'm straight' business. _The thought dripped with sarcasm. It almost was enough to cover that little kernel of fear and truth in it.

_Okay… Zoro…I like him a lot. If I was a girl, I'd let him fuck me in a second. But I'm not a girl. _Even that admission had his spine curling in embarrassment.

_So…where does that leave me exactly? He's a great guy and all-_

J. Holiday's "It's Yours" suddenly began to play loudly in the room –_Grab my body, baby, hold my heart, don't break it; it is yours; it is yours; it is yours; cuz I can't never get enough of you—_and the small smile Sanji had been sporting, drifted away as the ringtone continued to play from the top of the dresser.

Nami's ringtone.

_Shitfuckdamn. _

No use avoiding it; he was already late in returning the worried messages from his friends; wondering where he was and what had happened. And Nami, of all people, deserved this from him. Deserved an explanation. Deserved to know, to hear it from his own lips, that it was over. That the love, though once strong, had been extinguished. Extinguished forever.

He had moved on. To a man. Strange as that sounded, strange as it _was_. It was the truth. Not romantically, of course, but interest-wise.

He knew he had to, but still, the phone weighed much more than he ever thought possible. He sighed and flipped open the vibrating phone."Hello?"

"Sanji." Nami's voice was surprisingly calm, "How are you feeling today?" And the realization that the question was unwelcome, pained him. Once, he would have cooed substantially over every word Nami put to him. Things had changed irrevocably. And the thought slightly exhilarated him; _why? Wherefore?_

And again. The frigid politeness. The fucking formality sealed forever the fact that it was _over. _

"Fine…My head hurts," he murmured back, head a little hungover, but more surprised at the cosmic shift in his heretofore relatively static universe.

"Of course…you did drink a fair amount yesterday." Sanji couldn't detect even the faintest note of accusation. They were strangers, sitting over a cup of tea, looking anywhere but at each other's eyes. And it was wrong. _Wrong. _

He needed to fix it. Sanji, all his spirit that still considered himself a ladies' man, surged forth and he said rapidly, "Nami, I am so sorry—"

"_I don't want to hear it…_Sanji," Nami's voice cracked slightly on his name, and then returned to normal, "I just wanted to make sure you made it home fine. Since you disappeared yesterday and didn't answer any of our calls or texts." Her voice was now businesslike, to the point. She was wrapping it up; Sanji could tell and, again, that sense that _he must do something_ cause him to break in.

"Nami, please listen to me—I didn't mean for it to turn out this way; please believe me—" Blabbering idiot that he was, he couldn't say much more than that. And coward that he never thought himself to be, could not bear to say the other man's name now. All he was thinking about now was that something precious was walking out of his life. Sanji remembered well how much love-pain he had felt for this beauty when he thought she would never look his way. He wanted her, still.

"Oh, I do Sanji. That's the problem. But that's not enough anymore." The orange-head's voice coming through the mouthpiece was still calm, but it was the voice of someone who was tired to the depths of their bones. It confused Sanji just as he understood it.

He played his last trump card, threw down the Ace of Spades with which he had won this dame. Won her because idiots that most kids were these days, those idiots whom said, '_I like so-and-so' _and _'I like you,' _he had said, '_I love you,' _and so he said it now; "Not enough?-but I lov—"

"_Don't;" _Nami cut him off with all the precision of a surgeon, "Please don't say that. Not unless you mean it; and you _don't_ Sanji. Not anymore."

_I don't? I don't? I don't. I really don't. She's right, she always was. God help me. I— _

He was speechless, confronted with his own disinterest. Nami had ended it simply by holding up a mirror and showing him his own wan and distant eyes. After a horrible silence, Sanji began tentatively, "Can we meet today, Nami? In an hour? At the Baratie?" He needed to see her again, orange-haired bathing suit beauty of the amber eyes and sweet scented flesh. She must be wrong, he must be wrong. Yes, they were still in love, weren't they? Love couldn't fade so easily, could it? Fate, not so cruel?

There was a breathy sigh at the other end of the wire, before Nami answered, "I don't think so Sanji. It' not a good idea."

He persisted, "Then when can I see you?"

Rejection. "I don't think we should."

"What-"

"I need a break Sanji. A time to recuperate and try to understand everything." Cold words that sounded fake, straight out of a melodramatic book, a not very good one. But she said them nevertheless, because the alternative would be to say, '_I need some time to cry my heart out and try to forget your smile and your idiotic chivalry, and the way you kiss the inside of my thighs and the backs of my knees. How you cup my breast and kiss the upturned flesh.' _

But Sanji could hear it in her voice, in the droop of her words, his fingers clutched the phone icily, "Are you saying—?" He couldn't finish. Blue eyes sightlessly staring at the painting on the wall.

"I'm breaking up with you Sanji."

He heard the gentle click of the phone, as he was kindly hung up on. Sanji closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the wall next to the dresser and waited; waited for the heartbreak, the pain, the sorrow, the sense of loss he knew those words should bring. He had loved Nami since he had first seen her, at one of the Baratie's tables, surrounded by admirers and laughing at something Luffy, of all people, had just done. What _had_ he done? Swallowed a booger meant for someone else's stomach? Funny the things people remembered in times like these.

But no matter how much he tried to dig for that appropriate feeling of self-pity and deep unhappiness—all he felt was a strange mixture of relief and acceptance.

_God damn it. __Did Nami mean__ so little to me?_

Where were the tears, the ripped clothes, the broken brick-a-brak as he seized everything on his dressers and threw across the room in rage and sorrow? Fuck, where was his _emotion?_

Nami, great love of his life, had just cut their relationship off. And yes, it was mostly his fault, if not _entirely _his fault. But his body and mind seemed to be fine with it. His heart continued to thump normally, his blood to circulate from capillary bed to capillary bed. The planets continued to circulate.

Over, it was over. Yet, why that sense of beginning? Why that sense of release and rejuvenation? Why that sneaking measure of relief? Why did his eyes turn to the stupid Zoro-doll on his bed?

~0~

He could hear Usopp singing somewhere before he even made into the room proper. Zoro had received a text from Ace a few minutes after leaving Sanji to meet up at the blue-haired mechanic's autoshop. Usopp, Kohza, and Lafitte, a strange pale man whom Zoro was _certain_ was gay, and a couple other nobodies where there too Usopp had a pretty mellow voice, truth be told. The music thumped and dwelled.

_No one ever told me when I was alone, they just thought I'd know better, better—The hardest part this troubled heart has ever yet been through now, was heal the scars that got their start inside someone like you now—_

He stopped before the corner turn, listening as Brooke picked up and a pop-fizz of something alcoholic was opened.

—_For had I known, or I'd been shown back then how long it'd take me; to break the charms, that brought me harm, and all but would erase me— _

Laughter, murmured voices, muffled exclamations, something haunted in the way he couldn't see them, but could hear them.

Usopp picked up the song again, voice merging into Brooke's funky tenor—_I never won, or thought I could, no matter what you'd pay me. Replay the part, you stole my heart, I should of known you're crazy— _

Ace now, putting in his own musical two cents—_If all I knew was that with you, I'd want someone to save me, It'd be enough, but just my luck, I fell in love and maybe— _

A voice he didn't recognize, but who might have been Lulu—_So bittersweet, this tragedy, won't ask for absolution; this melody, inside of me, still searches for solution. A twist of faith, a change in heart, cures my infatuation, a broken heart, provides the spark for my determination— _

Zoro turned the corner and entered, shaking his head to clear the thoughts. The song broke off as people waved and yelled greetings. Usopp frowned at him, clearly displeased to be cut off in the middle of his song.

"What. Happened." Ace demanded as soon as Zoro stepped into the room of Franky's shop.

"Nothing."

"Nothing." Ace repeated, unbelieving.

"I brought him home. He woke up in the morning. I took him to his house. He said thanks. End of story."

"All's well then." Ace said, much satisfied, and settled into the couch he was currently occupying in the messy manager's office of Franky's mechanic business. "Though you missed your chance, fool. But why'd he come over in the first place, do you know?"

Zoro shrugged and leaned against a wall, closing his eyes. Actually, now that he thought about it; he hadn't even thought to ask Sanji what he had been doing in the first place; he had been too preoccupied with the cook's mere presence to even wonder about the reason behind it. He'd ask on Monday.

Thinking of, Zoro made a mental note to pick up a flour sack for school, as Sanji had instructed him to.

Minutes later, he felt himself inevitably drifting off—it had been a tumultuous last forty hours and he needed sleep. He could hear the quiet voices of the others through his drowsiness. The music started again somewhere and _someone_ had pulled out a huge, glass bong in the shape of a nautilus shell.

A quiet vibrating in his pocket jerked Zoro out of his sleep and he pulled out his phone only to see the caller ID identifying the caller as _Blackbeard_. He groaned inside, but flipped it open and brought it to his ear, mouth turning down at the corner in mild distaste.

"Hello," Zoro could see the others in the room quieting down and trying not to look as though they were listening. He waved at them _mind your own business dipshits. I won't look at dick if you don't look at mine. _

"Zoro! It's me, Blackbeard. I'm going to ask you something." Damn voice, it annoyed the shit out of him.

"Yeah." Zoro stuck his pinky in his other ear to cut off the noise and gave a look to Kohza who had scooted himself nearer.

"I've got a_ shipment _that I need someone to transport across to Nevada to give to one of my men. Are you up to it?"

"What shipment?" Zoro already knew what it was and his frown deepened into a scowl. They had been through this before.

"Ah, nothing too big. Nothing that _you_ can't handle. Twenty five-pound bags of marijuana." [1]

Zoro gripped the phone in his hand, tensing inwardly, he didn't like refusing Blackbeard anything, but there were things he didn't touch, and what's more—

"I don't trade narcotics Blackbeard. And you know it." He had his reasons. Fuck, he didn't even do drugs anymore—not counting the shit he had taken last night in a desperate fit of unreasoned jealousy. And even that had been a mistake.

A deep sigh reached his ears through the phone, "I know Zoro. I know…I just keep hoping that you'll change your mind. You're one of the best men I have; and for a heavy trip like this, I need someone I can trust and depend upon."

"Sorry," Zoro said, feeling anything but and deciding that Blackbeard's flattery was as real as a three-dollar bill. "But the risks are over the roof if I get caught, for everybody. And I don't have _any_ experience in that kind of shit. They'd snap me up pretty fucking fast."

"Okay. Well, I'll let you go for now… But, Zoro, the benefits are good, think about it," Blackbeard's voice cajoled. It was a pretty nasty combination.

"I will," Zoro said, knowing he wouldn't. God, he couldn't wait until he could quit this _shit._ Sometimes, he hated it. Every time he refused to follow orders—and order it _had _been, superficialities aside—he knew he was taking another chance.

The phone went dead. And Zoro snapped it shut angrily and stuffed into the pocket of his jeans.

Kohza glanced at him, "Leaving?" It seemed like he was the only one who had been paying close attention to the conversation and close enough to actually hear what was being said, on Zoro's end at least. And even though Kohza was a good friend, the fact slightly irritated Zoro. It was that old rule, _don't watch my dick and I won't look at yours. Don't look at my shit, I won't look at yours. Don't watch my murders, and I'll turn the other way when you kill. _

Zoro shook his head and closed his eyes again; feeling that sense of foreboding fill him; the foreboding that always seemed to accompany the realities of his position in Blackbeard's gang.

"Don't refuse him next time Zoro. He's suspicious enough of you already," Kohza's gravelly voice caused Zoro's eyes to snap open.

"What do you mean?" Zoro growled, voice sandpaper, feeling his spine turn cold with tension.

Kohza nodded and motioned quietly with his head to the door, signaling Zoro to go out the door and into the hallway. Zoro got up and stalked out and Kohza followed him shortly.

Kohza had barely shut the door before Zoro snapped again, "What do you mean? Suspicious of me? Of what? The hell you—"

The brownhaired man motioned Zoro away from the door and toward the outside. Not until they were in the front of Franky's auto shop did Kohza speak, "Blackbeard doesn't like the fact that you're so independent. You do what you want most of the time. He thinks you don't have the gang's loyalty first in your heart. And I have to say that I agree with him. You're in only for your own personal reasons, aren't you?" His amber eyes—which were the exact color of Nami Mikan's, though Zoro knew this no more than Sanji Blackleg knew that Kohza Ermalu's eyes were the same color—glittered in amusement.

Zoro opened his mouth to protest before he shut it again, Kohza was right after all. _Both _Kohza and Blackbeard. "Look, Kohza—"

Kohza held up a hand, "You don't have to explain to me Zoro. I rather you wouldn't actually. A little bit of knowledge can be dangerous in our positions. But, you've been a good friend to me, so that's why I'm telling you this. Don't refuse Blackbeard next time. It might be the last thing you do."

~0~

Zoro stared up at the ceiling in his living room, his mind still reeling from all the information Kohza had frontloaded him with only a few hours ago. His life had changed; fundamentally. The effects were not obvious, perhaps not even apparent, but Zoro knew it was true.

He closed his eyes tightly, remembering the scene.

Kohza looked at him somberly, "Blackbeard is watching you and Ace closely, Zoro. Mostly Ace, but he's got his eye on you too. He knows everything you've been up too lately, even that thing with Sanji."

"Sanji?" Zoro repeated, dazed, it felt so weird to hear the cook's name come out of Kohza's mouth, without derision or contempt. But what had Kohza said? That Blackbeard knew everything? _Everything?_

"The bet." Kohza clarified, "But that isn't important. What matters is that you need to tread carefully until Blackbeard relaxes. You just can't keep refusing him like always."

"I don't refuse him all the time." Zoro argued, crossing his arms across his chest and tilting his head in cool negligence, "But Blackbeard knows full well when I signed up that I wasn't going to touch the heavy junk. I mean, _twenty-five pounds of weed_. Fuck me! And what about you Kohza? How do you know all this?" he asked abruptly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Calm down!" Kohza grated, "First, I don't know what you worked out with Blackbeard or any of the details of your initiation into the gang. _And I don't care_. But whatever deal you might have had—did you fucking_ think_ that Blackbeard would hold his word? Don't be naïve! No—shut up for a minute and just listen to me!"

Kohza held up a finger, as he saw Zoro getting ready to argue, "A gang follows the leader blindly –it'd be fragmented into millions of pieces if everyone did whatever they wanted! I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this shit. And even if everyone has a second agenda, which a lot do, we have to at least give the appearance that we don't. You, my friend, are pushing that limit."

He paused to take a breath, "Second, I know this because pure chance—I heard some of the higher-ups, Van Auger, Burgess, 'Dr. Death' and Lafitte talking about it the other day. They didn't know I was near. And I'm risking my own ass to tell you this, so don't take me lightly if you're my friend."

"I don't give a fuck what they were talking about behind my back." Zoro stated coldly, "I said when I signed up that I wasn't going to do certain things—things that went against my own personal beliefs. If _Teach_ can't take it, then he can try to make me."

Kohza frowned "Call him Blackbeard! You're slipping Zoro. Anybody else hear this, man, you're in a _world_ of hurt."

Zoro shrugged, "Whatever. He doesn't respect me-I don't respect him. And if this shit keeps up then I'll leave—I can do it by myself." Blackbeard's real name was Marshall D. Teach; but it was a sign of respect to call him by his street name, 'Blackbeard'. A name the man had probably derived from the inhumane pirate or from his own scruffy facial hair.

"Don't fuck around!" Kohza yelled, grabbing Zoro's shoulders, "You know the price for that! I don't fucking want to have to beat the shit out of you and watch you—"

"I'll do the fuck I want!" Zoro shrugged off Kohza's hands, "Neither you nor Blackbeard can tell me what to do. I'm the only one who can do that."

"I'm your _friend_ Zoro." Kohza hissed. The electricity in the air snapped and broiled.

"I know. Thanks. But there's things you can't change."

Kohza took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh, "All right. Fine. I respect that. But later, don't come crying to me, I tried to tell you."

Zoro grinned, regaining some of his composure back, "When have I _ever_ 'come crying'?"

Kohza shrugged, "And keep this under wraps, you can't trust some. Blackbeard has some dogs working for him, spying, reporting, you name it. I understand you have some supervision."

"Is that why you wouldn't talk inside?"

"Partly. I think Lafitte is one."

"So I'm being tailed twenty-four seven?" Zoro said, bemused; he didn't really care one way or another, but that might make things a little more difficult with Sanji, if ever they decided to hang out. But then, all they had was until November, before he was forced to cut off all ties. The thought of this caused more stirrings of emotion then Kohza's news of gang surveillance.

"Not _all _day. Just a couple hours a week. Blackbeard's suspicious; but right now he has other things to worry about. But give him a couple more weeks or months and you will be. I think Ace is being tailed a lot more frequently, though," Kohza sighed, with a glance back at the building.

"What other things?" Zoro asked, ears perking.

Kohza muttered between his teeth something which suspiciously sounded like _duck_, "Where have you been? Captain Smoker. His transfer was delayed for another week or so because of a _top-secret_ assignment, apparently."

"Which is?" Zoro grinned, knowing full well that the police department was fully and completely infiltrated by their gang, and that their net of so-called secrecy was as leaky as an old paper bag.

"Well, it's certainly not good news, so you can wipe that smile off your face. The top brass has decided that since there's so much movement among the Supernova at the moment; Captain Smoker isn't enough for Grand Line."

Zoro groaned, "Who else is coming?" Kohza was right; it wasn't good news at all. Smoker was enough for trouble. But now there was going to be even more forms of authority running rampant in Grand Line-more specifically—Water 7?

"A 'special unit' of law enforcement. Answers exclusively to the top; and apparently on a completely different level form the local cops."

"'Special unit'?" Zoro repeated, not understanding. Or rather, hearing, but not comprehending.

"Goes by the name of CP9. Eight members under one man. You can ask Ace the details later, he knows more than me."

Zoro nodded and paused, studying Kohza thoughtfully in the bright noon sun. Shit, they were just two men who still weren't out of high school yet. They were kids, small fry. And yet they were in shit up to their necks. The gang said, '_Be loyal, be loyal, stick to the color and wear it with pride'_. But for what? Why? What are people and what are colors? How did things turn to this?

"What's going to happen to Water 7?" he asked after a while.

"I don't know. To tell the truth, I don't anything will happen. Not for the good; not for the bad. This isn't a fairy tale," Kohza shrugged morosely and glanced around.

Zoro grunted, not quite in agreement .

"Let's get back inside." Kohza said, turning to go, but stopped as Zoro grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait, tell me the story about the scar. If you don't then I'm going to forget and won't remember to ask you again." His eyes traced the black line.

Kohza shrugged, "It's not an amazing tale, Zoro. Just don't spread it around; I'd rather not have anyone know- seeing that the walls have ears and all that. I know you're safe though." Kohza paused and added almost as an afterthought, "And don't tell Usopp."

"Usopp?" Zoro could understand Kohza not wanting everyone to know, but Usopp was one of their closest friends, "Why not?"

"Wait, you'll get it." Kohza reached up and traced the scar running along the side of his face, "It's not pretty is it?" He smirked.

"It makes you look like a pirate." Zoro snorted, though it was the truth.

"Well, it wasn't this big before. It grew with me."

"So you got it—"

"A few years back; I was fifteen."

"Ah."

"You know how I've been dating Vivi for a few years now?" The brownhaired man shot him a quick, appraising look.

Zoro looked surprised, he hadn't, "You have? But isn't she—"

"From Enies Lobby? Yes, she is. Do you have a problem with it?" A note of accusation tempered the last words just barely.

"No. I'm just surprised, is all. But how the _hell_ do you manage that?" Zoro's mind was racing, despite his own feeble attempts to stop it; if Kohza managed to get away with dating Vivi Nefertari; then why couldn't he get away with being friends with Sanji Blackleg? He knew the dynamics were different, but _still— _

"Very secretly. Hardly anyone knows about us. I'd say you knowing brings the total amount to four. That we personally told. We don't talk at school and see each other only occasionally."

"Huh. Yeah, I had no idea. But isn't that frustrating?" Zoro lazily raised a shoulder in question.

"As hell. But what's the alternative? Never seeing each other again? Giving up the love we undeniably feel for each other? That's the coward's way. Anyway, it's just a temporary thing. We're just waiting for now."

"Waiting for what?" Zoro asked, smarting under Kohza's remark about cowards. Goddamn it, he hated doubting himself.

"Until Vivi finishes high school and college; gets her degree and a reliable form of money other than her parents. Then we're getting the hell out of here. Put Grand Line in our back trail. Good bye Water 7 and Enies Lobby."

"Ah. And you're okay with that? Never seeing everyone again? You sure as hell aren't planning on getting jumped out or putting your girl in danger by hanging out around here."

Kohza grimaced slightly, "Of course I'm not. But what else is there? But I won't risk Vivi living here with me. Especially her."

"What do you mean?"

Kohza tapped the scar near his eye again, "You're forgetting this."

"No; I was wondering when you'd bring it up again."

"So it was a year and half after I'd been dating Vivi. We met by the usual ways. School. We couldn't ignore the fact that we were growing rather attached to the other, no matter what we were and where we came from. It doesn't matter. What mattered was, we were rather stupid, we thought that we'd get away with it. That all the shit that actually happened in the real world what somehow bypass us and make way for our love. The usual that innocent, young couples feel."

Kohza paused and sighed.

"We were careless; we weren't stupid enough to go flaunting our relationship; but we sure didn't cover our tracks for anyone bothering to look for them. One day, I got a phone call telling me to go a certain place. They were using Vivi's phone. That was enough of a threat by itself. I arrived like a madman."

He paused again and glanced at Zoro, "Don't hold your breath. It was a half-assed kidnapping attempt and I just went through a side door instead of the front to throw them off guard and snatch Vivi away. I only got this" he tapped the scar perfunctorily "because I was so emotionally skewed at the time I wasn't really fighting properly and a switchblade that should have gone nowhere near me, nearly sliced the eyeball out of my head."

"Who was it though?" Zoro asked, "Who kidnapped her? And why?"

"Small timers. Some wannabe gang. I learned later that the word on the street was that apparently these bastards accidently stumbled onto the fact that I was a gang member, what's more, a Blackbeard gang member; and that I was dating Vivi Nefertari."

"I don't get it though, why?" But Zoro did get it; he knew it was common for gangs to target rival member's families, but what he didn't know was why Vivi being from Enies Lobby made it much more significant.

"Think about it. Its rather intelligent process of thought, if you look at it that way. Think what they could do with the loved one of a powerful person. They thought they could use Vivi as a lever against me, and me as a lever against Blackbeard. They had a lot of problems though. They were right in choosing Vivi and not some other couple that both came from Water 7—if I loved her enough to date outside of my comfort zone then I might love her enough to put pressure on Blackbeard for. Plus, if it didn't work out, then they could always ransom her from her rich parents. Can't do that with a Water 7."

"Fucked."

"Yeah. But they were wrong in that Blackbeard would do that for me. He's one of the most powerful crime bosses in the city, for fuck's sake. Did they really think he'd topple for the sake of one of his lower subordinate's girlfriend? Blackbeard wouldn't care. That'd only work if they did that to one of the higher upper's family. Lafitte, Burgess, those guys, maybe even Ace or you. Because _then_, Blackbeard would be forced to move to keep his image intact."

"They fucked up." Zoro couldn't help but feel himself getting engrossed in the story. A sort of sick fascination.

"Big time. But it helped. A lot."

"Helped?" Zoro raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Since then, I've risen a bit in the ranks. Plus, I understand the danger. The _possibility _of danger. Imagine if they had had the brains to understand the mechanisms of crime. If they had prepared better; if they had asked for something different. Every day I think of something new that they could have done to ensure my submissiveness to them and to the success of their plan. They could have ordered me instead to spy on Blackbeard or attempt to assassinate him, anything. They could have pushed me to see just how much I would do for Vivi," he paused, "which is anything."

"I wouldn't be able to live without her; or with the thought that she had been hurt because of me. It opened my eyes. Since then, we've been living like this. The day after the kidnapping, I made a show of breaking up with her because I was mad that she was dumb enough to get kidnapped. And now here we are."

"That was pretty intense, no matter what you say." Zoro muttered, "But where does Usopp fit the equation?"

Kohza chuckled, though it was a sound without much humor, "Ah, that's relatively simple. You know about Kaya?"

"The girl that Usopp loves?" Zoro answered, again mysteriously relating that name to another blond, _his_ blond, then suddenly realizing, "the girl in our Home Ec. class! The one that sits next to Sanji!" Ah, that was why he related the two.

"That's the one. Well, I assume you know that story as well? I don't want Usopp hearing my story and freaking out, and having him feel as though he'll never have enough courage and or strength to go on with it. I think he should try with that young lady. Vivi knows her as well."

"Ah." Zoro took a few seconds to process the information. "But it's not like her parents will let her; Usopp told me that they had him thrown in jail for hanging around her. Harassment charges or something."

"What are you talking about?" Kohza said, looking at him strangely. "Kaya Merry's parents died a long ago."

"Huh. That's weird, Usopp told me that. That her dad had him jailed." Zoro said, scratching his head thoughtfully.

A sudden understanding shone in Kohza's brown eyes, shadowed by his pimp purple-tinted glasses; "That must be Klahadore he was talking about."

"Klaha-what?"

"Klahadore. He's the official guardian of Kaya. Doesn't do much except push his glasses up his nose and act like he has a stick up his ass. Doesn't let her do anything. Doesn't let anyone see her. Poor girl, we—me and Vivi—keep on trying to get her to fire him; it's her right, but she loves him to death because he's been around ever since she was a little girl. Vivi thinks that he's up to no good, though."

"Straight up. Shouldn't you tell Usopp that, then?"

"I thought he knew. I'll tell him next time I see him; or you can, but frankly, I don't see how it changes anything."

"I guess it doesn't…But he can keep an eye on him; since it seems this guy is a little less than a benevolent uncle type of guy."

"Yeah."

Zoro rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I didn't know all this stuff. I never really paid attention to what was going on with other people." Maybe he should start taking his head out of the dirt and listening.

"So, now you know." Kohza said softly, and turned to walk back in, calling as he went, "Hey Franky, will you clean up outside, it looks a pig sty out here!"

~0~

Zoro sighed and turned over, burrowing into the couch, unconsciously searching for the relaxing and almost familiar scent of the chef that might still be lingering on the couch cushions.

He hadn't been too disturbed with what Kohza had told him; but it had been a surprise to say the least.

Well, for now, he'd put it in the back of his head and worry about it later. It wasn't like Blackbeard was going to kill him or even attempt to kill him. Not yet, at least, according to Kohza. And there was nothing he could do about Blackbeard's unfounded suspicions either. No use worrying about it.

Let Blackbeard sniff around. It wasn't his problem. He'd deal.

What was his problem was Sanji. Except that wasn't really a problem, was it?

_Well, what about Sanji?_ Zoro sighed again and gripped the sides of his head hard enough to hurt. What was it about the blond cook that caused him so much confusion?

And what the _fuck_ had that been on the ride to the Baratie—trust the refined Sanji to make the ritzy Baratie his workplace—the whole whispering, touching, _licking_, deal? That had been a little too much, hadn't it? Sanji had claimed he had just been messing around; but that wasn't exactly how a _straight _man would mess around wasn't it?

But then…what about him? He hadn't really reacted as a _straight _man would have, had he? Anybody else would have socked the cook a full house punch to the head the _moment_ he got a little too touchy-feely. But what had he done? Nothing, besides questioningly _enjoy_ the sensations that it had caused. Wasn't that a little questionable?

Zoro let out a groan; all this questioning wasn't good for his health. But since he couldn't rest with this going on, he might as well finish his questioning.

Okay, say he was a _little _attracted to Sanji. It was hard to not notice those beautiful blue eyes; those delicious lips; the muscled stomach; the playboy blond hair; the chiseled chest, the perky nipples; the long legs; the sweet, well rounded ass that put Alvida's sweetcheeks to shame…

Inside, something died even as he muffled a grin.

Okay, more than a _little_ attracted. Where the hell was this conversation with himself going, anyway?

Let's say a _lot _attracted. So what? Lately, he'd been drifting off from the women; sure their bodies were hot and he respected their personalities; but no one could beat the cook's blatant sexuality. The man was the most interesting guy he'd met in a long time, too. Plus, he was a bad-ass fighter who managed to look like he was having sex while kicking ass.

Zoro shuddered; rubbing his forearms lightly. _Okay, okay, he's very sexual. I'm very sexual. Obviously, he's hot. I'm hot. He's a good fighter, I'm a better fighter. I like him a lot. _

_Maybe I'm…a budding bisexual? Or is it just that I have a healthy interest in another guy. I'm definitely not gay. It's just Sanji…who I think about like that. So…I'm a stunted bisexual. Jesus Christ, this is _

_complicated. _

_Did I just admit that I'm a bisexual?_

_I think I just did. _

_As in bisexual-bisexual? _

_As in bisexual-bisexual. _

_But not gay…_

_No, not gay. Definitely. _

_Not bisexual either…_

_It's just…Sanji. Just him, no one else. Just him. _

_Shit._

It made him snort laughter and shake his head.

_So? So, maybe I want to experiment outside the usual parameters_. _Is that bad? Of course not!_ _Who can blame me?_ _I'm_ _sure that Sanji is hot enough to turn even the straightest of men. Which explains _me. _I mean, it just seems fucking hot to see how it…is…with him. Something different. _

_But what about him, Sanji? Is the cook in the same boat as me? Judging from the whole Sanji-licking-my-ear thing, I would think so, he's probably seeing things about me, just like I, him, but…_

_Did that mean that they were just mutually attracted sexually? To nobody else but to each other? And that only because of the way we're so weirdly able to get along. _

_But… _

"_Calm down. I was just messing with you. Don't get too full of yourself moss-head. It's not like I would really do anything seriously." Sanji said coolly, turning his back on Zoro. "But I think it's you who owes me some explanations." _

And again—

"_Don't get too full of yourself moss-head...it's not like I would do anything seriously..."_

Was he reading a little too far into this? On Sanji's part? Was he reading too much into everything?

But if that was true, then why…?

Zoro groaned again, he was so fucking confused. He got up and walked to a nearby window; staring sightlessly out into the street.

He knew one thing though. There was no use denying it anymore. Zoro leaned his forehead against the cold pane of glass and whispered his desire to the empty room, feeling a small measure of relief fill him as he did so.

"Oh shit, screw it, I want _him_…."

~0~

And so the weekend passed.

~0~

Come Monday.

"What the _fuck _is that?" Sanji demanded, his visible eyebrow twitching furiously as he glared at Zoro and at the thing Zoro was carrying in his arms. There was an expression on his face which was half furious and half offended righteously.

"What the fuck is _that_?" Zoro demanded equally; eyes trained on the thing Sanji carried in _his _arms.

"This, _obviously_ is my flour sack baby," he glowered; "_but unlike yours, mine actually looks like you_."

"The hell it does! I made mine exactly like you! Check out the curly-cue eyebrow, the blonde rag, the idiotic expression on its dorky face—"

"You goddamn bastard—" he breathed and leaned forward to seize Zoro's poor representation of himself and proceeded to tear its guts out and let the flour spill on the floor.

"Damn it, I worked hard on that, you dickhead—" Zoro snatched Sanji's equally disturbing rendition of himself and ripped in half.

"You shitty mosshead-bastard-dickwad…! How dare you—"

"Asshole-fucknut-cunt…! Even after I saved your sorry ass—"

"Argh! Fucking—don't pull my hair—"

"_Fuck—_watch the goddamn _earrings_—"

"What the hell are you two doing?" Shanks laughed, grabbing their shirt collars and pulling them apart, as the rest of the classroom ogled.

"Shanks! Don't believe anything this retard says—"

"I was defending my honor! This idiot-cook tried to—"

"Okay you two, calm down. What happened?" Shanks glanced around, taking the white-powdered forms of Sanji and Zoro and the white dust sprinkled over the classroom floor, and lastly the two forlorn flour-sack babies that still resembled them lying pathetically on the floor. "Let me see…Let me see…You each made your baby resemble the other and that made the other mad, and you ended up murdering the other's and trying to kill each other?"

Sullen silence greeted this accurate summing up of events.

Shanks tapped his foot for a while, "You know the punishment for fighting is suspension—_What_, Luffy?"

The strawhat had been tugging on the long, black cape of the red-haired teacher for a while now. Luffy motioned for Shanks to lean his ear to his mouth, Shanks did, looking apprehensive as Luffy began to whisper furiously.

"Uh-huh…Huh…mmm-hmm…o_h?..._hmmm…ahh!"Shanks broke into a sunny grin as he shooed Luffy aside and again concentrated on the pair of miscreants.

"What the hell did you say Luffy—" he began furiously, but Shanks interrupted him. That stupid strawhat, always meddling in things that weren't his business!

"Look you two, it's important to get along. I won't tolerate fighting in my classroom." Shanks turned a pair of cold eyes on them, "It's an affront to my authority and to my respect."

Sanji and Zoro both gulped audibly. Shanks looked tough enough in that moment to rip their heads off their necks.

"However!" Shanks continued, "I will be generous enough to forgive and forget if you agree to follow my one condition." He looked at them questioningly, if a little threatening. "As it seems you can't get along, I propose that you two learn to. You will complete the Flour Baby Unit together."

"T-Together?" he stammered, "Just what exactly do you mean by that, Shanks?" Zoro was looking as though someone had just told him he'd have his balls removed in thirty minutes.

"_Together,"_ Shanks repeated, coldly, "You will share a baby and earn a joint grade."

"But, but, but, we have to log our hours that we spend with our baby, and there's a _minimum of fifty hours we need to clock in_!" he protested, desperately. Inside, his head was wailing _this cannot be happening, this cannot be happening, this— _

"What's your point?" Shanks said, smiling in a very scary way. The canines showed.

"N-None sir," he gulped and backed away.

Zoro was still in shell-shocked mode.

"Good. I'm glad that's settled."

~0~

And that is how Sanji found himself, on a otherwise beautiful autumn afternoon, saddled with a flour sack baby and a very annoying Zoro, swinging forlornly on the kiddie swings of a nearby park in Water 7.

"Goddamn you. This is _all _your fault," he glared at Zoro.

"Mine? You're the one who tried to make your stupid flour baby look like me. I seriously do not want to know what you did with it at night." Zoro retorted.

Sanji couldn't ever remember being so disgusted…or amused, "Did you just insinuate I used it as a dildo for my masturbation fantasies?"

The greenhaired man shrugged. "….Yeah."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

Zoro had been lying on the grass, next to the swings, with the new flour baby—which looked a little like him and a little like Sanji this time as Shanks had decreed—next to him, and now he flipped onto his side, to look at Sanji, "What time is it?"

Sanji glanced at his cell, "4:05"

Zoro groaned, and flipped back onto his back, "We've only been here five minutes? It seems like I've been here _forever_, listening to you _yammer_."

He couldn't help laughing at the tone of his voice, and he hopped off the swing, and sauntered over to where Zoro was lying, crashing down next to him, with the flour sack between them, as some sort of safety barrier, he guessed. "Relax…we've_ only_ got 75 minutes left."

After Shanks had passed down his sentence, Sanji had set up a schedule as to when they would complete their hours together. Because, for the flour baby unit, they had a chart they had to fill in to show the time they spent with their '_children_'; to make sure they were good '_parents_'.

Or some such shit.

Whatever, Shanks was a sick, sick, sick, _fuck. _

They had agreed to log in afterschool and hour and a half and five hours during the weekends until they completed the assignment. They had actually agreed, though it had taken a storm of insults, jibes, and insulting quips for there to have been an agreement.

Well, he's have to say that after his initial reaction of horrified terror, had been rather anticipatory—excited—at the prospect of spending so much free time with Zoro. It would be a chance to learn all there was to know about the greenhaired man. He kind of hated that interest, but to deny that it was there, was beyond foolish.

And maybe this _interaction_ would be a chance to understand his own feelings. Lately, he'd been thinking a little too much of the dumb mosshead who was maybe not so dumb. Maybe, it was because he was such a mystery—and with revelation, maybe the green-haired gangster would fade back into his proper place. Hopefully. _Probably. _

Zoro's voice broke through his reverie, "Well…what do you want to talk about?"

He looked over, surprised, only to find himself staring straight into Zoro's eyes; he looked away quickly, annoyed at nothing, knowing that looking was unsettling, knowing what that meant, knowing over all, that he was very, very attracted to this man beside him and he didn't know why, "You_ want_ to talk?"

"Sure. Nothing else to do." Zoro shifted and put his arms behind his head, and looked up at the sky.

"You _can_ talk?" He couldn't resist the jibe.

"Oi."

"What about then?" he asked, closing his eyes and smiling into the warm sunlight. He was surprised but pleased that Zoro was even attempting conversation; and this was a good start. It suddenly felt strangely comfortable and _right_ to be here. Just lying down, stretched out, and soaking in the rays. They could be in the Bahamas for all they knew.

"Hmm…I don't know…tell me about yourself…I guess," Zoro said hesitatingly, sounding if he was not sure if he was crossing any invisible boundaries.

"Well, if you want to know someone, you should introduce yourself first," he mused, staring up at the sky. It was a beautiful, crispy afternoon; and he was briefly glad that the park was empty. It was easy to think that he and Zoro were the only ones left in the world, what with the silence and the warm sun shining eternally down.

Not that he wanted to be the only one in the world with Zoro. Not that he wanted there to be a quiet, romantic setting. There could have been hobos around smoking some substance which vaguely smelled like shit for all he cared.

"But I already know you." Zoro said, looking at him as though he was stupid.

He could feel his eyebrow twitching, "It's a saying, dumb_ass_. It means, 'the person who wants to know about someone else's history should tell their own first." He turned his head back to face Zoro, opened his eyes, and grinned at him, "Or something like that. My dad has a ton of those weird proverbs."

He could see the surprise and suspicion in Zoro's eyes, "_You_ want to know about _me_?"

He laughed and threw the guy's words right back at him, "Sure. Nothing else to do."

Zoro chuckled and turned his face to look at the sky again, so that Sanji was left staring at his handsome profile. Sanji felt like reaching out and tracing Zoro's soft green sideburns with the tips of his fingers. He suddenly wanted to run the soft sensitive flesh of his lips over them and feel that unique tickle.

_Stupid. I'm so stupid. His hair isn't like Nami's hair, it's not gorgeous and beautiful. I'm an idiot. _

Sanji abruptly turned away, placing his back to Zoro. Zoro glanced at him, but didn't move.

"Well, what do you want to know?" Sanji heard Zoro ask from behind him.

"Ehh…anything you want to tell me," Sanji said, trying for a nonchalant tone, "Have you noticed, mosshead, that we've been through a lot of crazy shit together, but we really don't know anything about each other?" There were stupid, stupid things in his stomach which they called _butterflies_. Except he _never_ got _butterflies_ with _another man. _So, obviously, they were _not_ butterflies. They must be moths.

He could feel Zoro digesting that behind him; unable to resist, he turned around to face Zoro again. Eyes moving on their own accord up and down the planes of his face, the strong jaw, the slant of the nose.

_He has…nice features. _

"Stop moving around," Zoro muttered, "It's driving me bugshit. From now on, stay like that."

Sanji rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet.

~0~

Zoro continued to stare into the sky; he supposed Sanji was right—they didn't know anything about the other. When they weren't fighting, they were arguing; when they weren't arguing they were explaining to each other or to other people about something. And when they did talk, it wasn't personal. He didn't know about Sanji's family, about his interests, his dreams; not even small things like what his favorite color was, what he liked to eat; or where he had came from.

"I guess we don't know a lot about each other, "Zoro said slowly, "But I guess it doesn't really matter to me."

Sanji felt hurt in spite of himself; he started to twist around so that he didn't have to look at Zoro and so he could scowl in peace.

_Oh, shit. I hurt him. _And Zoro felt a tinge of regret and a flare of self-irritation. Couldn't he say what he wanted without sounding like an insensitive bastard? He reached out and gripped Sanji's shoulder, getting up slightly and twisting his torso so he could do so.

"_Hey_, don't take it the wrong way. It's not how it sounds like. I meant that…even though it'd be nice to get to know you better…It's not _that_ big of a deal…Because, well, we didn't need anything else to be friends, right? So what I came from Water 7 and you came from Eneis Lobby? We got along without knowing shit about each other. Do you kind of understand what I'm getting at?"

"Yeah…" Sanji mused. Feeling somewhat mollified. He had had it wrong. What Zoro was trying to say, was that they didn't need to know all the useless trivia of the other in order for their friendship to exist… because they connected on a much deeper level. Now hecouldn't help but feel touched. Shit. It seemed that the mosshead had his emotions on a string.

"Well, that makes one of us then." Zoro said, looking away in disgust, "I don't know what the fuck I'm saying anymore."

"S'okay. I get it." Sanji mumbled, closing his eyes since he was forbidden to turn around, feeling relieved in spite of himself, "But I still want to know about you. You're not off the hook."

Zoro felt himself get tense around the shoulder blades; it was amazing how much those simple, innocent, inquisitive words made him want to wrap his arms around Sanji and whisper everything into his ear.

_I want to do it. I really do. I don't even see why I should lie about it to myself. He makes me want to hold him. Sanji does. Hold him, kiss him, sex him. Jesus, I'm infatuated with him. I need some kind of cure for this. _

Speaking of sex and idiotic infatuations, Zoro took advantage of Sanji's closed eyes to check him out, just like he would a hot chick. Except chicks didn't have that sculpted chest and strong jawline. The cook was wearing a pair of loose slacks that were too loose to define anything—_damn it! Can't he see I'm repressed here?_—and a long-sleeved, brown shirt with a plunging neckline—_very nice, how much?—_that was looped loosely together at the top with a few strings that just accentuated the _highly visible _pectorals.

_Ahhh_…it was good to be out of denial. And maybe he should stop eyeballing the man's body and pick his slack jaw up and wipe that drool off his chin and the lust out of his eyes.

But Sanji was waiting for an answer, so Zoro managed to stop his perverted inventory on the blond cook's assets and clear his throat for an answer, "Okay, I'm cool with that…and which brings us back to square one—what do you want to know?"

Sanji shrugged, "I guess what everyone wants to know. How long have you been in a gang?"

"Everybody wants to know that? A few years now. Since I was fourteen or fifteen."

"So four—five years…What made you join?" Sanji glanced at him, "Sorry, but you don't seem the type to just join to be _cool_ or the type to follow some guy forever, blindly." He didn't really care that his interest was showing, quite badly at that.

Zoro grinned at him, "Hole in one. I'm getting a lot of shit, apparently, lately, because of that—because I'm not too tied up in gang loyalty. A friend told me that I acted like I was just in for personal reasons, and I have to admit it's true. If I thought I could do it on my own, I would never have joined. And still, I'll always be my own master. The gang life isn't for me."

Sanji looked dumbfounded, "Then why—"

"Have you heard of a guy named Juraquille "Hawk-eyes" Mihawk?" The eager note in his voice was hard to miss, and Zoro's eyes blazed strangely, almost lustfully.

"No-o-o," Sanji said, after thinking for a moment, something in Zoro's voice suggested that he should have heard of this strange name before. Guy sounded like Antonio Banderas's brother.

"He's the world's greatest swordsman," Zoro explained, his voice both harsh and dreamy, "And my ultimate dream is to find him, defeat him, take his title, and become the greatest swordsman in the world."

~0~

Sanji wasn't sure if he should laugh or not. It sounded like something that would be said in a movie; one about pirates and treasure. Part of him felt like saying, '_Arrr…matey. That be one fine goal, bucko. Perchance you'll find Davy Jones' old, sunken treasure while you're at it.' _What century were they living in again?

He settled for demanding, "Are you insane?"

Zoro glared at him, "Hey, it's my dream—don't fuck with it."

"But-It's so…_outlandish_." Sanji was being kind. Outlandish? More like _fucking ridiculously insane impossible. _

This earned him another glare, "So? It's my dream. I'm the only one who can decide if it's stupid or not."

"I didn't say it was stupid; I just said it was out-of-the-ordinary," Sanji quickly said, "But how is that even _possible_?"

"It's not that farfetched. There's whole tournaments of swordmanship going on all the time. Mihawk is the reigning champion right now. No one has been able to defeat him yet. Well, not until I do." Zoro added a cocky grin to this last.

"Tournaments? How come I've never heard of them?" Sanji demanded.

"They're illegal."

"Figures. Why?"

"Because they're too dangerous. The swordsmen actually try to kill the other person. Most of the time, a body gets left behind. There's stupid legal ones with weirdass names that have very cute abbreviations but I can't compete like that. You have to hold back. Illegal ones? Nah."

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Sanji's voice was quiet.

Zoro looked him in the eye, "No. That's not my policy. Though I won't lie and say I never _will._ If I have to kill Mihawk in order to defeat him, then I will."

Sanji nodded, "I think so too." _Did he just admit that he would be a murderer if things came down to it?_

_Yeah, he just did. _

_I like this guy. _

Zoro smiled, "You know Sanji; I'm not such a bad guy…I don't even do drugs."

Sanji wrinkled his nose, "Really? You smelled like pot that night at the beach…"

"Ehhh…that was a mistake; some bad shit happened and I just wanted to forget about things for a while. I hadn't done that in years. How do you even know what pot smells like…?"

Sanji ignored him, "Why'd you stop?"

"It messed up my training. I couldn't concentrate; I still could handle it then, but it was when I woke up and _didn't _feel like working out that I quit for good. It was stupid to begin in the first place. I only took it because I _love _beer. So I thought it'd be the same thing."

"Training?"

"For my dream."

" So, what made you go overboard that night? Did sweet _Usoppa _dump you again?" Sanji asked sarcastically.

"No," Zoro laughed, and grinned mischievously down at him, "But someone cheated on me all right. They were such a whore that night, trust me. With someone in the evening, had sex in a car with someone else, woke up on a different person's couch…"

"Really, who?" Sanji asked, trying to sound causal, so Zoro _did _have a girlfriend…the thought was rather disagreeable, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe he was jealous. Sanji had to give a small embarrassed inward chuckle at that. Yep, he was a little bit jealous that someone else got to be with Zoro all the time.

Zoro chuckled again, "Nobody really. I wasn't really going out with them; but I thought we had something."

"Oh…_Do _you have a girlfriend, Zoro?"

"Interested are we?" Zoro smirked at him.

"Like hell, bastard." Was the immediate response.

"Well, I'm single, so the ball park's open for play."

"What kind of sick metaphor is that?" Sanji muttered, refusing to meet Zoro's dancing eyes; this was a little too weird…was Zoro _flirting _with him? It sure felt like it. Not to mention they were lying on the grass, gazing into each other's eyes, if you wanted to be romantic. Could he get anymore idiotically analytical? Jesus H. Christ in a chicken basket.

"An apt one" Zoro was saying, "But what about you ero-cook?" Zoro had taken to calling him this, ever since the ride-home-and-lick-Zoro's-ear incident, "Any sweet nudges in the night?" It was Zoro's odd way of mixing his sexuality with his profession.

"Asshole—don't talk about women like that—they're beautiful creatures to be revered…And, no, I'm…single." He had been single for a few days now. But Nami's phonecall seemed faraway and distant.

Zoro sucked in his breath sharply, "Does that mean there's a chance for me?"

"Idiot mossbrain," Sanji stared hard at Zoro, who was grinning and looking anything but serious, "Don't joke around like that. It's freaky."

"Who says I'm joking?" Again, that mischievous and laughing smirk.

Sanji was floundering, and feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute, "Well, I, uh, respect you…like you a lot…uhhh—" _What the fuuuuuck— _

Zoro's burst of strong laughter interrupted him and after a few seconds in which the greenhaired man wiped away tears and grinned broadly at Sanji, "Calm down cook, I was just messing. So what made you break up with that one girl?"

Sanji glared at him, "First of all, that _was not funny!_ Second, it's not _'that girl'_, her name is _Nami Mikan."_ Stupid Zoro, always fucking around and making him believe in stupid things. Idiot.

"Uh-huh."

Sanji rushed on, keen on moving forward, "Things just weren't working out…and I felt like I found someone else…but not really…because I wasn't sure if _she _was really what…I wanted."

"Really? Who was it?" Zoro asked, frowning; that Sanji had broken up with Nami was good news; but if Sanji had already replaced her; then he must really, _really_ like whoever this mystery woman was to have broken up with _Nami Mikan_.

Sanji swallowed with difficulty, "I-I can't tell you that. It's personal."

Faint annoyance flashed through Zoro, "Jesus Christ, Sanji, you can tell me, I'm not going to run and tell everyone."

"It's not that." Sanji snapped, "And what about you? Who's your special someone that you thought you had _'something' with_?"

Zoro was taken aback, in spite of himself, "I-That's personal." And immediately felt utterly hypocritical.

"Huh. Go figure."

"Yeah…"

The awkward silence spun out for a few minutes between them in which Sanji shifted around, breaking Zoro's imposed taboo, though the green-haired man was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice.

Sanji finally broke it, remembering something suddenly, "Wait, Zoro..."

And this time Zoro's voice was guarded, "What?"

"You didn't really explain what your dream had to do with why you joined Blackbeard's gang."

"Oh," Zoro looked slightly relieved, "Well, Mihawk doesn't really accept challenges from unknowns; it's a waste of his time and other people's _lives_. And he's pretty much impossible to reach if you're searching solo. And pretty much the only way you get known in the underground is from gaining cred in a gang. So I joined Blackbeard because he was the one of the biggest at the time. So ends my story."

"So, you don't really want to be in a gang?"

"Ehh…I used to not really care; but lately, it's been getting old fast. Once I find and defeat Mihawk…I'm quitting."

"You can do that? Just like that?" Sanji asked, disbelieving.

Zoro laughed, "No, not really. There's a whole thing that you have to go through with to get out officially. Just like there's a rite to get in. Initiation is getting in, and its relatively easy since the more fresh meat for the leaders, the better. But getting out…can be…difficult…to say the least."

"What do you have to do to get out?"

"Nevermind," Zoro answered, dismissing it with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "I can go through with it."

"Huh," Sanji muttered, feeling uneasy."That's insane."

Zoro shrugged again, "I think it's your turn now, cook. I've been spilling my guts all afternoon; spill yours."

Sanji stirred out of his confusion, "Mine—My story? I don't really have one. Not as interesting as yours, at least…"

"Bullshit. Everyone has one."

Sanji opened his mouth to protest, when he realized that Zoro was right, and that he did have a story after all.

~0~

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! **

[1] Twenty-five pounds of marijuana is around $40,000 dollars worth of money _if_ its high-to-average quality. So Zoro would be shipping quite a lot. Good thing he refused :D


	12. The Slipping

**Dedication**: These last few chapters would not have been the same without the invaluable help of **HappyMe_O**, who gave me the priceless knowledge of the flour babies idea. I would have never thought about them. They would have been stuck cooking forever. Thank you so much **HappyMe_O!**

Chapter 12

The Slipping

Homesick, for a clock that told the same time

Sometimes you made no sense to me

If you lie on the ground in somebody's arms

You'll probably swallow some of their history

_-"In Liverpool",_ _Suzanne Vega _

~0~

_Where to begin?_ Sanji wondered, flipping onto his back and staring up at the sky. For once, he was at a loss for words. He wasn't ashamed of his history; neither was he so melodramatically traumatized by what had happened that he wasn't able to talk about it. He just wasn't sure how to go about telling Zoro.

Speaking of…Sanji chanced a sneak peek at the mosshead. Zoro was looking up at the skies, his eyes half-open, his face was smooth and relaxed. Looking at that calm, almost serene, countenance, Sanji found it hard to believe that Zoro had been through so much. Hell, that he was _still _going through so much. It was crazy.

It had been a surprise to discover all those revelations about Zoro; but at the same time, not a surprise. If that made any sort of sense. Sure, he had been a little shocked that Zoro was different than everybody else…but underlying it all had been his immediate understanding behind Zoro 's explanations.

Understanding… compassion…and recognition...?

_Stupid dreams…I have one too…except I haven't told anyone…but it's even worse than Zoro's pirate one. _

"I'm waiting blondie," Sanji was dragged back to the present by the sound of Zoro's drowsy voice.

"Wait, Zoro—" Sanji suddenly said, hesitating.

"What? If you don't start talking I'm going to fall asleep."

"Well, I was just wondering…How many people know about your…dream? And about the stuff you told me about?"

Zoro stirred and thought for a while, "Err, about my dream? Only a couple…It wasn't like Mihawk was going to show up just because I kept on proclaiming to the four winds that I was searching for his ass to beat him and take his title. He'd probably stay away, even, just to piss me off. Wouldn't put it past the bastard…So, only a couple friends know… and Blackbeard of course; I told him when I joined to see if he could help me. And the other stuff? Umm…I'd say you're the only one who knows for sure."

Zoro nodded thoughtfully as he finished talking. He had never gone out right and told anyone that he was in the gang for his own gain; or that he was planning on quitting once he was done for good; or that he was sick of that sort of life. He supposed that his closest friends—minus Ace—had intuited as much, Kohza, Robin, Chopper, and Usopp came to mind; but he had never actually_ told_ them. Sanji had been the first to hear the words out of his mouth. Somehow, that seemed absolutely fine.

"Hmm, what?" Zoro said, snapping out of his inner monologue, as he missed something Sanji had just asked.

" Why?'" Sanji repeated, dumbfounded, he had never would have believed that Zoro would entrust in _him_, information he had never told anyone else. What could the shit head be _thinking_, pulling something like that?

"Why what?" Zoro asked, confused.

"Why me?" Sanji half-pleaded, half-demanded, "Why did you tell me, if you haven't told anyone else?" He struggled up one elbow to glare down at Zoro. "Why me?" he repeated.

"Because I like you." Zoro answered simply, staring up at him.

Sanji felt his heart skip a beat as he gazed down into Zoro's dark eyes. _There he goes again…! _"Well, thanks…I guess...I like you too…But, you're okay with that? Just telling me everything? Can't you get in trouble if somehow your gang leader—Blackbeard—finds out about this?"

"Why would he find out? You're not going to tell anyone are you?" Zoro answered, reasonably.

"No-o-o, but they could find out somehow…they could beat me up and force me to spill or something…I saw this one movie—"

Sanji was stopped by Zoro's sudden laughter, "What's so funny?" he demanded, glaring at Zoro.

"_You're _funny." Zoro replied, shoulders still shaking from repressed mirth, "First of all, this isn't a movie. There aren't going to be some gang of thugs showing up at your door at midnight to threaten you to spill information about me. For a lot of reasons. First, who would suspect that I told you something so personal? The entire world thinks I hate your ass and am only being nice to you to win—"

Zoro paused for a horrified mili-second as he almost ruined everything, and then recovered himself miraculously and continued, his heart thumping harshly,

"—some sort of concession for myself. Second, I'm not that big of a name to have such drastic measures taken for me. Third, why the fuck would they take your word? So stop worrying, nothing's going happen to you." This last was said with a soft teasing note.

Sanji flopped back down from his elbow rest position, but not before rolling his eyes and giving Zoro an _are-you-stupid?_ look, "You're such an idiot, you know? Who said I was worried about _me_? I can handle shit-heads; as you can _personally_ attest to. I'm worrying about _you_. I don't want you to get hurt, shithead, because you were stupid enough to tell me everything."

Zoro looked at him curiously, and grinned suddenly, "That's very sweet of you…"

Sanji could feel the color rising in his cheeks, "I didn't mean it like _that_, you shithead!"

With a surprising speed and dexterity, Zoro rolled on top of him and nuzzled into his neck, hands sliding slowly up his torso, seductively, with a grip too hard to be a caress, at the same time slowly rotating his hips against Sanji's "Shhh…I promise I'll be gentle young virgin."

Before Sanji could snap out of his mind freeze and have a major freak out attack, kick Zoro in the stomach or crotch, or even reach up and do something he might regret, Zoro had rolled back off him, laughing hard.

"_I just—" _ Laughter. "—called you a young—" More laughter.

"You fucking _bastard_!" Sanji yelled, scrambling up, "What the flying _fuck_ was_ that_?" Heart was thumping and galloping and exploding. What was that? What was that?

Zoro sat up, yawning, "Calm down, I'm just messing—_fuck_." He ducked as Sanji's black shoe nearly collided with his head. "That's _it_, shitty cook! I am killing your ass!"

"Come on, mosshead! I'll fuck you up—" _You seem to like messing around a lot Zoro. _

Yes, the other man liked to _mess around. _

And then Sanji was moving; and Zoro couldn't help admiring the stingy bastard. Admiring because Sanji's body was lithe and each movement demonstrated the restrained power that coursed through it frame, kept in check by its owner's iron control; and the cook _really_ knew how to fight… Oh, _shit_…those _legs_…

And stingy because he got so fucking pissed when Zoro had copped a feel. Ahhh…but it had been worth it, wretched, repressed soul that he was. It had felt so nice. So nice.

Sanji was whirling those legs of his legs again and Zoro blocked, avoiding the ones he could, and taking the hits he couldn't with the backs of his forearms. God damn it, he still didn't know why the cook only used his legs. In fact, Sanji hadn't even spilled so much as an iota of himself yet. Stingy.

"Had enough?" Sanji panted, aiming another blow at Zoro's chest, who retreated to avoid another barrage of well-placed kicks.

"Hell no, in fact—agh!" Zoro let out a startled yell as he tripped over something behind him and went down hard.

Zoro had just enough time to register the fact that he had tripped over the _fucking flour baby_ before Sanji pounced; obviously not wanting Zoro to regain his momentum and hoping to catch him off-guard.

"Oh, you shitty _cook_-" Zoro spat as Sanji tried to pin his arms down; except that wasn't going to happen.

"Shit-head yourself," Sanji gasped out, struggling to force Zoro's hands down; their hands gripping each other's and their fingers intertwined fiercely.

Zoro was right about to give the cook a cocky smile and a smart-ass comment because he could feel Sanji slowly but steadily losing the upper body strength contest when Sanji lifted himself off Zoro slightly, curled his foot quickly and gave him a small but harsh kick in the stomach. Low and dirty bastard, what a delightfully perverse move.

"Oof!" Zoro felt his strength disappear for a few brief seconds and his vision go slightly gray. When he recovered, Zoro found himself effectively reined in. His arms had been pinned to the sides and Sanji's knees were holding them down. Damn, that meant he couldn't move then—no use even trying. Sanji was smirking, looking loftily down at him from his elevated vantage point.

Zoro had to grin too, but stifled it, less Sanji get suspicious. He had to admit that the position he found himself was not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. Pretty damn good in fact. That feeling of purring '_nice'_ was back, insatiable.

Sanji was nicely straddling him, his crotch meeting his own perfectly; Zoro could feel the small but heady weight of the cook's package on his own. Delicious. Hot. Sexy. Brain. Could. Only. Function. One. Word. At. A. Time. Like. This.

If he ever got to take Sanji; Zoro made a mental note to try it this way, him lying down like this, Sanji on top, doing all the work…so he could leisurely watch Sanji moan and writhe as the blonde man moved erratically up and down his reddened erection; his blue eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as he basically fucked himself with Zoro's hard, pulsing cock…Except Zoro would tell him to open his eyes when he came…so he would see himself come all over Zoro's stomach …

_Whoa, I'm not really holding back anymore am I? _Dreaming of Sanji like any other woman. Differences in position, yes. Differences in anatomical organs, definitely. And what changes! Never before had he thought that the phallus could have such sexual potency on his own libido. That a muscular body could be just as right and fitting as the most luscious breasts.

_Not good to be thinking this here— _

"Get off me cook!" Zoro yelled, flushed.

"Hells no. I gots you where I wants you. This will teach you to fuck around with me." Sanji said, loftily, digging in his pocket to find his smokes. "Lie there for a while will ya?"

"Get the hell off me Sanji! _Please_?" Zoro could feel the tension and pressure mounting in his jeans; soon Sanji would notice it, impossible not to, since his erection would be kissing Sanji's own dick. Damn, damn, damn he liked this. _Liked it. _

"What? Okay…" Sanji's eyes widened imperceptibly at the use of his own name and the plea. He got up, shaking the wrinkles in his pants and stretching out his legs, "What's wrong?" His voice suspicious.

Zoro immediately flipped onto his stomach and crushed himself into the grass, "Nothing…My arms started to hurt, is all…" He sounded like a raped frog to his own ears.

"Hah. Of course, whose legs do you think were pinning you down?" Sanji flopped down beside him, "I think this counts as a win for me. Teach you to fuck with me."

Zoro made an '_urgh_' sound and Sanji settled into the grass. Honor vindicated.

Sanji laced his hands behind his head and puffed out some smoke from his cig. Feeling badass. He wished Zoro hadn't told him to get off; he sort of liked having the mosshead in submission. Zoro was too cocky; he needed to be taken down a few pegs. Plus, being on top of Zoro just felt good. As in, mossheads needed to be kept down.

_Nothing else…right? _

Sanji coughed nervously to himself as that thought formed. No use denying it though. Give him a few more minutes and he would have been as hard as rock straddling Zoro like that, calm mood or not. Guy or not. It was a position that just was too fucking sexual to not feel hormonal stirrings. He'd probably be thinking of Nami though. Or some other hot chick.

And then that other _thing._ He hadn't been _that_ mad when Zoro had rolled on top of him. More surprised really; and he hated being surprised. What made him pause though, what really kind of pissed him off, was that sometimes he thought Zoro _meant_ his little jokes and pranks… Zoro shouldn't joke like that unless he really meant it…

But did he _want_ him to mean it?

Maybe all they needed to do was fuck and get over whatever sexual restraints they were having. Because, seriously, they were acting like dogs in heat.

_Did I just consider having sex with Zoro? _

_Sanji! Pull yourself together man! This is— _

"So, uh, where were we?" Zoro interrupted, sounding a little more normal.

"Uh…" Sanji thought for a second, what _had_ they been talking about before Zoro turned rapist? "I was, uh..worrying about you…that you might get into shit for telling me all that stuff." He massaged his temples briefly, willing all weird thoughts to vanish and leave him alone for once.

Zoro shrugged, "Oh, Well, I won't. So stop worrying about me."

"But..."

"Don't worry."

"No, I wanted to ask, I still don't get it…why did you tell me exactly. And not just because _'you like me'_." Sanji but the acidic bite in the last words to show Zoro what he really thought about that.

But it looked like Zoro was actually taking the question seriously enough this time, "Well, I'm not sure why. It just seemed right. I didn't mind you knowing. I'm comfortable with you."

"But why?" Sanji demanded.

"Well, why do you like me?" was the semi-logical answer.

"What-" Sanji began, his immediate response was _I don't like you idiot_, but he choked that down, and considered the question. Why _did_ he like Zoro? Well, most of it was the fact that Zoro was the only one he could be himself around; he didn't have to be gentle, or refined, or polite. Zoro dragged him down and dirtied him up and he liked it. Zoro was honest, straightforward, and fun to be around. But he sure wasn't going to say _any _of that.

"Well, because…you're not bad." Sanji finally said, knowing Zoro would understand without him telling him.

"My sentiments exactly," Zoro grunted, looking unimpressed.

"Hmm. Well, thanks…for trusting me."

"Yeah." Zoro gave him a smile that sent butterflies flying through Sanji's stomach, "But that goes for you too. You can't hold back on me. Tell me everything about you." His smile turned predatory, "Tell me everything you couldn't tell anyone else."

This time Sanji felt himself shiver slightly, those words just seemed so fucking sexual…was it just him, or was he or Zoro fixated on sex? Which brought him back to the Wild-Bitches-in-Heat Theorem.

"Ask me a question," Sanji invited, shrugging.

"What?"

"Ask me a question," Sanji repeated, "I don't know how to start just like that. It's easier "to just answer questions."

"Ummm…okay…" Zoro paused for a second, what was the _most_ interesting thing he wanted to know..about the cook? _Oh—I know-_

"Your legs," he said, putting arms behind his head and getting cozy.

"_What!"_

Zoro suddenly realized what he said, "No! I meant…why do you only fight with your feet?"

"Oh.", Sanji asked, looking pleased, "You still on about that?"

Zoro was not willing to admit it, but he submitted, "Yeah, it's damn interesting."

Sanji stretched out his legs luxuriously before him, "Like my legs?" he teased lightly.

_Yes _Zoro thought honestly, instead he said, "They ain't that great."

"Well, I told you that I'm a chef, right?" he paused while Zoro nodded agreement, "A good chef would never risk his hands in a fight. They're the most important part of my body."

Zoro silently disagreed; but stayed silent.

"And anyway, I can kick ass without having to use them. My legs are enough to fuck someone up something righteous." Sanji finished.

"Huh. Wow. That's crazy," Zoro said, thoughtfully, "I never really thought that chefs would take cooking so seriously…" _Wierdass cooks. This one's no different. _

"Hey, cooking is as much a fight as training."

"Do you want to be the greatest cook in the world or something?" Zoro asked, suddenly curious.

Sanji chuckled, "I already _am_ the greatest cook in the world. I got the Annual International Cooking Championship award five times in a row before they asked me to stop competing and become a judge on the panel instead, so that the other poor slobs could have a chance."

_Pompous ass…_Zoro chuckled inside but said, "Damn, you're that good? No shit?" he laughed, looking at Sanji with something akin to incredulity and admiration mixed in one. He would never have guessed that this guy was so dedicated to his work that he already was renowned for it.

"None."

"So what's your goal now?"

Sanji suddenly looked down, embarrassed; his cheeks warming up. "Uh-I…I-don't, ah, that is…"

Zoro grinned again, deciding that Sanji looked hot—aall pink like that; like a blushing virgin, ready to be spread and fucked by the swarthy pirate. Or ready to be stripped, coated in whipped cream , and eaten. Good images…good images. And Zoro thought those noises he was hearing were the last screams of his pure, unsullied heterosexuality dying, "Oi, cook, I told _you_ everything."

"All right! I'm going! It's just _embarrassing_…"

"Hey, it's all right, mine was _'outlandish'_ like some idiot said."

"Well, at least yours was actually possible! I'm chasing the fucking Loch Ness Monster!"

There was a pause,"….You are?"

"_No._ Argh," Sanji turned and gazed up at the sky, shaking his head in what could have been amusement or annoyance,"When I was kid, I used to work as an apprentice on this cruise ship, training to be a cook."

Zoro settled back and began the question-answer routine that Sanji had put him through, "How old were you?"

"Eleven or twelve."

"Why weren't you at school?"

"Home schooled. I wanted to cook and they let me."

"'_They_'? Your parents?"

"No, I don't know who my parents are. They abandoned me when I was on born on the beach." His tone was casual; just stating the facts Madame.

Zoro hissed between his teeth, "Christ, Sanji, I'm sorry." He reached out and gripped Sanji's shoulder compassionately. Again, a shocker. Prince of East Blue High—lonely, abandoned orphan? The stars didn't match up.

Sanji looked surprised, "Don't be. I'm not. They had their reasons. It doesn't matter. I never really had parent abandonment issues—I always knew it had nothing to do with me. Anyway, I was picked up by the sailors and one of them took me home; but since both him and his wife worked on board for long periods of time; they just home-schooled me. I was glad. I learned in the kitchens there what I was made for."

Zoro sighed, and murmured,"You don't live with them anymore."

Sanji looked over, surprised, "How do you know?"

Zoro shrugged, "A feeling. I can always tell when someone is thinking about someone who isn't here anymore…Which reminds me—I didn't tell you the why-the reason behind my dream."

"No, no you didn't." Sanji agreed, suddenly curious, the idea had never even popped in his head; he supposed it was because the dream itself was so insane; it didn't need a reason, it stood on its own, "Why the hell _did _you want to become the world's greatest swordsman?"

Zoro chuckled, "There was this girl I knew when I was just a kid. Her name was Kuina. We used to fight all the time…I tried so hard to beat her….Never could. That girl could handle a sword as well as any. It got to the point where I was so pissed that she won all the time, I challenged her to a duel with real swords. No holding back."

"You lost?"

"Worse."

"….you killed her?"

"_No_. She fucked me over pretty well."

"So you lost?"

"…Yeah. But anyway, so picture this—I'm standing there—no, fuck that, I'm _lying_ there, trying my best to not bawl like a _baby _because I want to beat her so fucking _bad_ and I just _can't_. Hell, I would have chopped my fucking _dick_ off if would have helped me to defeat her, that's how bad I wanted to win; I even perfected using the method of _two _swords 'coz I thought I could beat her with two; and as pissed as hell that she won for _the two thousandth and first time—"_

Sanji laughed, interrupting, "What! No shit?"

"Nil. So there I am, lying in the grass, with my swords, that were about as big as my fucking body, lying somewhere behind me, with tears streaming down my cheeks and boogers in my nose, and my eyes screwed up tight, and my mouth filled with the shit taste of defeat—"

"I can so picture that. And, personally, I don't you look any different—"

"-When she, Kuina, suddenly starts bawling too, grabbing her _tits_, fuck—_she barely __had __some back then—_I don't know what else. Scared the fucking shit out of me, to tell the truth. Then she starts sprouting all this total bullshit about how she wants a dick 'coz she's sick of her fucking vagina. And how I was so lucky to be a man, because women were weaker than men naturally, and that when I grew up, my testosterone would overpower the fury of her boobs. It was the greatest case of penis envy I _ever_ saw."

"Somehow, I doubt she phrased it like that." Sanji remarked dryly.

"And I'm thinking, '_what the fuck?'_ This chick just beat the shit out of me and she's _complaining?_ It made me feel even shittier than I already was feeling. So I get up and sound her out. 'You bitch!'"

"Real gentleman. I can see why you're currently single you oaf."

"I go even _further_. I make her promise to try to become the world's greatest swordsman with me and that we would compete for the title in the end. I made her do the whole 'cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die' shit just in case she decided to go chickenshit on me and cop out."

"What happened?" Sanji asked, knowing.

"She died the next day. Slipped on the stairs as she was running to go sharpen her sword. It was almost funny. It fucked me up. I threw myself into training to get away from the feeling of _betrayal_ I felt. It felt like she had given up and died; left me. I wasn't pissed that she had died; I was pissed that she had robbed me of the satisfaction of defeating her."

"Wow." Sanji muttered, looking impressed. Zoro was speaking pretty shittily about his long-dead childhood friend; but he could tell Zoro had cared about her very deeply, and still did. It was just his way of showing affection. It reminded him of something Nami had told him long ago—how her foster father poured whiskey over the tombstone of her foster mom in a sort of touching remembrance of her.

"I did all this crazy shit for the next couple years; carried dumbbells in my fucking mouth; cut stone; I don't even know…then I asked her dad if I could have her sword; so I could fight with it, sort of like…joining her spirit to mine, so we could both realize our dream together; because by then, I had no doubt that I would make it."

"Hmmm-that's intense" Sanji murmured, looking thoughtful, then suddenly he sat up, realizing something , "…Wait, Zoro…Didn't you say you fought with two? And you asked for hers? How the fuck do you use _three_?"

Zoro grinned, "Guess?" This was his favorite part of explaining to someone who didn't know his fighting style.

"Two in one hand, one in the other?" Sanji ventured.

"No."

"Three in one hand?"

"Nope."

"Your dick holds one and you have a special made hole in your shitty pants so you can swing?" He was getting tired of guessing.

"Possibly—but it's against the rules."

"Shoved up your ass?"

"In my mouth, idiot. You killed it."

"What! Bullshit."

"Nope. I'm pretty good with it too."

"This whole conversation is insane." Sanji said, giving up, and flopping down on his back again, "So what happened next?"

"Nothing. I trained. I slept. Trained some more. Slept some more. Fucked. Trained. When I was around fourteen I heard the name of Mihawk. By fifteen, I had joined Blackbeard."

"So ends the saga of Zoro Roronoa," Sanji said. Zoro laughed.

"We completely got off the topic, cook."

"That's because you can't help but snatch the spotlight, idiot mosshead."

"So you were saying something about how your foster parents died?"

"Yeah. There was a huge storm one night, at sea. The whole fucking ship capsized. Two survivors." Sanji couldn't help feeling that flare of competition in him, the feeling of, _'let's one up each other's shitty back stories. See who went through the worst shit and whoever did is the winner.' _

Zoro whistled, long and low beneath his breath, "You born under a lucky star, or what?"

"Not really. I ended up on this fucking _rock_ with the other survivor-a shitty old man who was the top chef of the ship. And one tiny bag of rations between us. And we _hated _each other. He told me to take the bag and go watch for ships on the other side of the rock." He paused.

"We were there for 65 days." Sanji laced his arms behind his head. And the nostalgia swept over him like the waves of the ocean had swept that bottom of that god cursed rock.

"_What! _How the fuck did you get out alive?" Zoro demanded, a little awed of the blonde beside him. Who would have thought Sanji Blackleg, who owned the multi-million dollar, elegant, sophisticated Baratie and who drove this year's Mercedes sports model; had been through hell and back? More-tapped the devil on the shoulder and said hello.

"Barely. I think I weighed in at fifteen pounds when they picked us up. Stayed in the hospital for half a year."

"The other guy? You said he gave _you_ the food; what the hell did _he _live on?"

Sanji grimaced, but continued, "His name is Zeff Akaashi. He's got balls of steel, that man. Ate his leg so he could live."

"What?" Zoro said, feeling like he had heard wrong, there was _no way_ someone would—

"Ate his leg. That shitty bastard. Do you know what that means to a chef? Your hands are reserved for cooking; so that leaves only your legs to fight with-and if you lose one of _those_…"

Zoro got it immediately, "You're fucked."

"Right. He ate the fucking thing and saddled me with the greatest debt ever known to mankind. Then, later, it turned out that the boating company that made the ship was pretty much fucked up and they were churning out ships that were defective and screwed up and all this shit; and that's why it sunk the ship so easily. So they rewarded the last two survivors—us—with a couple cool millions. It didn't matter; three hundred and sixty five people were still dead."

Zoro didn't know what to say to that. Maybe, there was _nothing_ he could have said.

"Then, we were loaded in cash; moved here to Eneis Lobby because we could afford it; built the Baratie because we were fucking obsessed—no, fucking _religious—_about feeding the hungry; about _food_ in general, actually. Zeff adopted me; made me heir; we were pretty used to each other actually by then. He taught me how to really cook; told me about the hands, then taught me how to fight using only my feet. I grew up. And here we are."

"What about your parents?" Zoro asked, surprised that Sanji hadn't mentioned them anymore.

"Oh, well, they died of course. I was sad, missed them. But we were never really close in the first place. They were busy a lot; but it was mostly because they didn't really _know_ how to be parents; didn't really _want_ to be parents. It wasn't their fault—they didn't ask for a rug-monkey; and they were kind enough to not stick me in some orphanage where I might have it worse. I'll always be grateful to them…but our bond was never strong."

"So, you only have this Zeff guy right now…" Zoro thought for a few seconds; Sanji had once told him that he, Zoro, was the only one Sanji could talk to as a confidant. Now seeing that comment in the light of Sanji's background, Zoro wondered just how lonely Sanji must have been…and still was.

Sure he had a nice father figure, and maybe he got along fine with that; but the man himself was surrounded by people who had never had a want in their life; who had led sheltered existences their whole lives; who wouldn't know what it meant to be in pain, to be starved, to be abandoned, small, unimportant, lonely; not through their own fault, that was just the way the dice had rolled for them at birth.

Sanji must have felt so out of place. He was suddenly struck by a wash of protectiveness over the blond man lying in the grass next to him, with his legs stretched out, and his hands laced comfortingly behind his head. And once, before, that same wave of protectiveness had made him feel stupid; now it only made him feel strong.

He suddenly wanted to say as much to the cook, "Aren't you…" he waved a hand distractedly in the air. Not sure how to go about that.

"Aren't I what?" Sanji asked, turning to look at him, his cheek squishing into the grass funnily.

"Lonely?"

A shy expression crept over Sanji's features, "Kind of…That's why I got so attached to Nami. She's the only one who lives in Eneis Lobby who's been through something shitty. And that's why…I got so attached…to you."

_If I was a chick, I would blush right about now. _

Zoro didn't know how to answer that one, so he scooted over and laid his forehead against Sanji's. A touched, surprised, wary expression came over the cook's face, but he didn't move away. Zoro closed his eyes to take some of that tension away and to provide the chef some relief. "What's your dream Sanji?" The warm, cool forehead brushing lightly against his was calming. And Zoro felt another wave of surprise that the cook was permitting this to happen. And also a wave of relief that the place was utterly deserted—since it was Blackbeard's turf and a park which had seen its fair amount of battles and drug deals.

"What-Where'd that come from?" Sanji sputtered, trying to move away; Zoro stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"It was the question I originally asked before you cleverly avoided it for a while," he smiled.

"Do we have to do it in this position, though?" Sanji asked, their foreheads were still touching; and now, Zoro's hand had found its way to his side and rested there lightly. Their bodies were so close; Sanji didn't know if he would be able to think properly with Zoro's hand there and his face there and his mere presence all around him. And why was he even letting Zoro place his hand on his side?

"Yes," Zoro answered, not bothering to give an explanation. His mind simultaneously went, '_That's what sheeeee said', _"You said something about chasing the Loch Ness Monster?"

"Oh, well, when I worked on that ship; the cooks liked to tell stories to each other…Old sea yarns that no one but kids and crazy people really believe in…Have you heard of the one about _'All Blue'_?" The excitement and happiness was so apparent in Sanji's voice that Zoro opened his eyes in curiosity. Sanji's eyes were shining and a large smile lit up his face as he stared expectantly at Zoro. He was so fucking _playboy_ cute, that Zoro just had to do it—he leaned even more in and rubbed his nose against Sanji's in a friendly cuddle, their bottom lips brushing lightly against each other for a fraction of a second. Or perhaps that was just his overheated imagination.

Sanji laughed, and nuzzled back, shockingly, "You haven't? _'All Blue'_ is the legendary sea that sailors have looked for for centuries. It's supposed to be filled with sea creatures from all over the world! All the fish in the seven seas collected in one miraculous ocean! A cook's paradise…" He looked past Zoro dreamily.

Zoro took advantage to snuggle his face into Sanji's neck, placing his lips on cool skin. "Why are you embarrassed about that?" he asked into his neck, his voice slightly muffled.

_I just crossed a line. My lips are on his neck. I crossed a line. No…we crossed a line. He's not doing anything. _

"Huh. It's like a kid saying he wants to go find El Dorado, the legendary city of gold, or Atlantis, the supposed 'lost civilization'. It's so cheesy," Sanji was so oblivious, he was so caught up in his fantasies of All Blue, he wasn't even paying attention to what Zoro was doing. Or perhaps he was aware and just didn't care.

This time, Zoro slid the hand on the cook's side beneath the shirt, sliding up and down the warm nakedness with leisure. "Where do you think All Blue is?" he asked. The motions could be easily interpreted as a friendly massage—if the two partners were sexually integrated and absolutely fine with that.

"I'm not sure…But I know it's out there! Some old logbooks hint at it being either in the Bermuda Triangle, Magellan's Pass, or the Straits of Gibraltar. I'm thinking the Pacific, though…or maybe the Asian? The Indian sea has always been…" Sanji went on, enthusiastically, listing all the possible places All Blue might or might not exist. His hand wandered down, trying to tug down his shirt and extricate the hands, but the defense was weak at best. The defender too distracted.

"Hmmm…yes…maybe there." Zoro murmured, He slid a little lower, his mouth leaving Sanji's neck with a sigh of regret, but pressing against his chest, between the rawhide strings lustfully, not quite daring to suck. His hand slipped out from beneath Sanji's shirt and danced across his hip and over the ridge; his fingers playing keyboards all the way; and finally cupping the firm right cheek in a very fragile grip. If he wasn't careful; he was going to get hard again. The first thing he was going to do when he got home was masturbate; of course with this blond slut as the main entrée.

_Damn…I've crossed roughly four thousand lines by this point. I can't help what the hell I feel— _

"—and that's why I think the Arctic and Antarctic Oceans can't _possibly_ hold All Blue. Simply too cold. Same goes for the Atlantic; it's too gray. Not enough nutrients for all the fish; plus the fisheries are going crazy over there; 'fishing' they call it; 'raping the ocean' I call it—But the Gulf of Mexico, now _there's _a real possibility, warm—"

"Hmm-_mmm_." Zoro took the little rawhide strings holding the shirt together in his mouth; and pulled lightly, feeling heat rekindle in his groin as he did so. _Careful—oh so careful—_He introduced the other hand, this time sliding it up the front of Sanji's shirt, slowly, glorying in the feel of the hard nudity. It was an awkward fit, but he did _not_ want to let go of the ass. It was so round, firm, muscled, promising of a fine grip. He just wanted to rub them, kiss them, come all over them, lift them, spread them, fuck them. So inviting. He could hear them calling his name.

"—but the sea off the coast of Africa-the southern Atlantic, that is also rather fruitful. Read that in '_Cook's Weekly'._ You know why? Because some of the sea currents there bring things in a whirlpool; fish of course, too. But, I don't know, maybe it's me but I have a prejudice against the Atlantic, too fucking gray, I can't get over that I guess—Zoro….what are you doing?"

Damn it. He knew he shouldn't have rubbed his palm over the nipple. But it had been a goddamn tease; just sticking out like that, its outline showing clearly through the shirt.

"Nothing?" Zoro decided to go for the nonchalant approach.

"Should I be worried that your clutching my ass, your hand is feeling up my non-existent tits, and your mouth is on my chest?" Sanji said, surprisingly not looking mad, but looking amused. His eyes was kind of screwed up, staring at him and his mouth turned down at the corner.

"No?" Zoro said, making no move to withdraw himself.

"You're weird Zoro." Sanji said, detaching himself gently. Zoro had to fight an absurdly strong urge to snatch him back. Instead he shrugged and gave up his conquered territory.

"I was getting bored."

"So you decided to feel me up?"

"I was trying to decide if you were a virgin or not." He said, trying to throw him off guard. Plus, he wanted to know.

"What did you find out?" Sanji asked, looking more amused than ever. Zoro was acting weird lately; maybe Zoro really _did_ like him. Well, he didn't really mind the second touchy-feely session, mostly he was too happy from talking about All Blue for a while to someone who actually paid attention and _understood._

"That you've never had sex in your life. You're fresher than a newly laid egg" Zoro said, smirking, thinking _oh please, oh please, oh please, blushing virgin bride Sanji…hot sexy handsome helpless submissive oblivious virgin Sanji…come one bastard. _

"…Wrong."

"Damn it." Zoro muttered, feeling cheated.

"Disappointed? Why? Someone beat you to it?" Sanji grinned.

"Hell no. I get enough thank-you-very-much." Zoro sulked; _he_ had wanted to be Sanji's first, his last, and everything in between. He wanted it so Sanji would not know sex beyond the hard cock buried inside of him and he would come screaming only Zoro's name until the end of his days. Damn it.

_I crossed another—ah, forget it. I'm beyond redemption by now. I want this guy so fucking…bad. _

Sanji reached over with a mischievous smile, and raked his hands up Zoro's stomach and chest, fingernails scratching lightly on brown skin, "Hmmm…" the cook purred, "Are you a virgin? Let me see…" His palms came to rest lightly cupping Zoro's pecs and tickling the small buds of his nipples. They were almost instantly hard, if that had been possible. "No…you…are…_not." _

"No-o-o." he half-moaned, and caved his spine in, pretending at least to resist, "I lost it when I was fourteen."

"What? Really? That young? To who?" Sanji asked, fingers tracing small circles on Zoro's chest. He wasn't particularly disturbed by the fact that they were in this position; it was kind of hot actually. Maybe later, he'd freak out. All he wanted to do was lay here and see how far Zoro would let him go.

"A friend of mine…Her name is Robin Nico…" Zoro said, reaching out and trying to slide his own hands up Sanji's shirt; Sanji swatted him away with a _you-had-your-turn _look and immediately replaced his hands on Zoro, who was infinitely grateful, though he glowered and twisted around.

"What! You had sex with that hot goddess? You? The epitome of all idiots?" Sanji fumed, he suddenly gave Zoro's nipples a hard pinch.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?" Zoro hissed, reaching up and covering the other's hands with his own and crushing them to his injured buds. Shit, that had hurt, but it had felt pretty fucking sexy too. If only Sanji sucked instead of pinched…_Oh, damn, that sounds good. _

"For not respecting a lady! I can believe you forced yourself on her, because no way she would _willingly _make love to a mosshead—"

"Oi! I didn't rape her you idiot cook. We were both virgins at the time, and everybody else was going down in front of us; so we thought, we might as well lose it to each other, so that our first time we could be comfortable enough to actually do it right and learn. Since then, I've been pretty promiscuous." The last was said with a certain pride.

"Huh. That's pretty deep," Sanji admitted.

"I'm not an idiot."

"Not a _total_ idiot." Sanji amended.

Zoro laughed, "You too." He paused a second, "And you? Who was it? Nami?" _That bitch that took what was mine? Wow, the things I could have done!_

"Yeah…except…" he paused for an awkward, embarrassed second, "You better not tell anyone this…but it was my only…experience. I'm just telling you since you were straight up with me."

_Yesssss!_ A little man danced the boogie in Zoro's mind. Not a virigin, but the closest thing to it. Sanji had only done Nami once; he was still virtually inexperienced. Out loud Zoro said, "Oh, hmmm. Why haven't you…had it more?"

"I probably would have; but I left for Paris for the annual cooking competition over the summer, didn't get back until the start of the school year, and before that, Nami was the only one I loved enough to…entrust myself to her." Sanji finished, looking embarrassed, and a trifle defiant, as though he expected Zoro to laugh at him.

Zoro, however, just nodded, understanding stamped on his features or at least trying to look like he understood the cook as much as was humanely possible, "I get you. The first time, it's a matter of trust…More for the girl of course because she gives up responsibility for her body that she's carried all her life to the guy. That's what Robin told me. But the guy has to pick up that huge responsibility of taking care of another person, when he's always just needed to take care of himself…that's what I told her."

Sanji had been nodding before Zoro had even finished, "That's how it was exactly. I felt so scared my first time…" he trailed off, suddenly realizing just what he was talking about and to whom.

"Hey, you can talk to me.", Zoro said, smirking lightly, "I know everything about you there is to know already."

Sanji grinned at him, "Yeah, I know. Anyway… I trust you."

~0~

"I can't believe we were here for three hours," Zoro muttered, picking up the flour baby and glancing at his cell, which read 7:35 PM. "More even."

After Sanji's little risqué one line, they had suddenly both grown over-conscious of their mingling bodies; of Sanji's hands rubbing Zoro's pectorals, of Zoro's hands which had somehow gotten past Sanji and rested one on his side, and one tangled in his hair; of the ways their noses touched; the almost love-sick way they were gazing and whispering into each other's eyes and ears. How their lips were tantalizingly close. How sexual their position was.

They had separated quickly, almost angrily; desire struggling with denial in one heart; desire struggling with restraint in the other's. Feigned anger masking the lust.

After a few nervous, fidgety coughs, and diverted glances, they had relaxed and smiled more genuinely again. And had finally just noticed how dark the sky had turned; even the streetlights had turned on.

_Shit, _Z_eff is going to kill me. I'm supposed to help with the clientele tonight .Everybody's going to wonder where the hell I got to ._Everybody had been flabbergasted when he had told him that he was slated to spend time with Zoro, alone, in order to complete the flour-baby assignment. Several, mostly ladies, had urged him to appeal to Shanks to reconsider his sentence. He had brushed them off with an 'It'll be all right.' Later, he had told a few of his closer friends that he would be spending the afternoon with Zoro, and they had given him sympathetic looks and told him to call them if any trouble befell. Sanji had brushed those off too.

At least, there had been no questioning. No one knew that he _wanted_ to spend time with the green-haired man; and no one would have believed anyway if he told them; they would have been even more incredulous if he had told them that he thought Zoro wanted to spend time with _him._

And now he was hours late. His friends were probably imagining his body lying in a ditch somewhere with the crossbones covered with three skulls, on in front, two in profile—Blackbeard's cipher—carved into his forehead. Oh well.

Meanwhile Zoro was thinking—_Fuck, I am not going to hear the end of this. As soon as I walk in, some idiot like Buggy, or Mohji, is going to ask me if I used a condom when I fucked him. _Zoro gritted his teeth, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the little jokes, and the bloodthirsty ways some gamblers watched the bet with sharp interest.

_You got yourself in this, _he reminded himself, as he always did whenever he felt like complaining and bewailing his fate, _so don't bitch. _He thought of one of Ace's favorite saying, usually quoted when the so called 'fire-fist'-named because of his fierce punches—had just beat the living shit out of someone: '_Don't play with fire, bastard, or you're gonna get burned.'_

"Oh, I know. Time got away from us." Sanji said, replying to Zoro's earlier comment, "If I had known how late it was, I would have stopped you in mid-sentence mosshead. Are you going to take that home?" he asked, pointing to the flour sack Zoro had just picked up from the grass.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm gonna get home and give it a beating. Teach it to fuck with me," Zoro said, glaring at the flour baby, still pissed that it had tripped him up earlier.

Sanji snorted laughter, "You're an idiot. If I see _one_ mark of abuse, I'll rip your nutsack off."

"You'd love to grab the boys, freak."

The cook facepalmed and groaned, "Wow, Zoro, _wow._"

They burst out laughing together.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow cook." Zoro said, a little shyly, "Come here." He held out his arms. Typical manhug. He and Ace exchanged them with no second thought, but suddenly it was his first hug with a girl ever. It was that fragile and expectant.

There was a split second where Sanji just looked at him, and Zoro was sure the cook would walk away and he would be left foolishly with his arms wide open and his heart quite broken.

But then it passed, and Sanji smiled, a smile which sent a whole menagerie of butterflies skyrocketing through Zoro's entire body, it was a sweet smile, full of trust and tenderness that the owner himself was unaware of. Sanji stepped forward, pressed himself against Zoro, laid his head on his shoulder, and allowed Zoro to bring in arms around him and hold him tightly for several minutes. Sanji gripped him back hard, giving as good as he got.

_Oh, Sanji, I think I'm completely and utterly— _

"There ya go, shitty mosshead," Sanji said, stepping back, "Happy?" He ruffled Zoro's hair affectionately.

"Sure…" Zoro back-walked for a while, then turned, "See you tomorrow idiot cook."

"Yeah…" Sanji answered, a little wistfully, "Bye." He watched thoughtfully as Zoro took off on a slight jog across the park in the direction he had initially come. He didn't think he would turn back; but at the last second Zoro did. He was tiny in the distance and Sanji couldn't distinguish his features. He lifted a hand, a small pale patch in the darkness and waved.

Sanji lifted one in return.

Zoro pretended to slam the flour baby on the ground.

Sanji laughed and gave him the finger; he didn't think Zoro could see it-but he was sure Zoro would know what he was doing. It's the thought that counts after all, right?

Zoro waved again in the distance and finally turned over the hill and disappeared.

~0~

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading this…though I feel like I'm getting a tad repetitive. **

**[1] Argh, I can't believe I wrote some of this stuff. Whatever. Let them enjoy their Fluff. It's the last they get for a long, long time. **


	13. Accidentally in Love

_**Dedicación**_: Yo dedico este capítulo a mi amiga y ayudante **B. Sparkles**. Es por ella que fue posible que este capítulo podría ser escrito. Ella my avisó y me ayudo hasta que otra vez encontré mi propio ritmo que perdí. Agradézcala por las cosas que hice bien; cúlpame por las cosas en que me equivoce. Muchas gracias desde el fondo de mi corazón~ Ojala que puedes leer esto; ya que hez Italiano-y quise escribir en Espanol para tu gusto. :D

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Accidently in Love

So she said, "What's the problem baby?"  
What's the problem I don't know  
Well maybe I'm in love, think about it every time  
I think about it, can't stop thinking 'bout it  
How much longer will it take to cure this?  
Just to cure it 'cause I can't ignore it if it's love  
Makes me wanna turn around and face me  
But I don't know nothing about love  
Because everybody's after love  
So I said, "I'm a snowball running"  
Running down into the spring  
That's coming all this love melting under  
Blue skies belting out sunlight, shimmering love  
Well baby I surrender to the strawberry ice cream  
Never ever end of all this love  
Well I didn't mean to do it  
But there's no escaping your love  
These lines of lightning  
Mean we're never alone  
Never alone, no, no  
Come on, come on  
We were once upon a time in love  
We're accidentally in love  
-"_Accidentally in Love", Counting Crows_

~0~

The weeks passed. As they always do.

The empty chart on which Zoro and Sanji were supposed to clock in their hours spent together, slowly but surely filled up with times, dates, names, and signatures. Shanks had told them explicitly that he would be checking it often; but the red-haired teacher hadn't so much as glanced in their direction for a while now. Well, it wasn't like they _didn't_ want to be together.

After the first initial, opening conversation, the two had relaxed and grown more confident with the other. A few loose ends which had been drifting around were tied up; and they grew even closer-if that was possible-with each revealed detail and every insignificant fact.

Sanji's favorite color _was _blue. Zoro's _was _green.

Sanji's favorite animal was a duck; Zoro liked sharks.

Zoro loved _onigiri_- riceballs from Japan-it was his secret obsession.

They both agreed that pirates kicked ninja's asses anyday; anytime, anyplace.

They knew everything about each other.

_Almost_ all there was to know.

~0~

"Gahhh… Zoro, this is no fun, just give me your bike already and be done with it; it's all most November. Sanji Blackleg is _not_ going to let you fuck him. Admit it." Ace pouted, pointing an accusing finger at Zoro as he lay upside-down on the hood of Luffy's car. He hadn't mentioned it for a while now, and Zoro has been half-heartedly hoping that the freckled man had forgotten all about it. But it had been just that-hopeful wishing.

He still felt like the biggest piece of shit when he gave himself time to reflect on the dirty piece of business he was up into his elbows in. Zoro _had_ considered telling Sanji everything; but had immediately rejected the idea—he had just established a close relationship with the cook—he didn't want to jeopardize it in anyway whatsoever. He tried to console himself with the fact that he was _absolutely sure_ he wasn't going to actually fulfill his part; but still—no amount of washing could make his hands clean.

They were in Luffy's garage; Luffy had gone in to go to the bathroom, but Zoro suspected he had been 'unavoidably detained' in the kitchen-more specifically, the refrigerator. And Ace had taken the opportunity of Luffy's absence to bring up the subject of Sanji Blackleg and the Bet; knowing that Luffy considered the blond cook a friend, much to Ace's annoyance—who thought his little brother was just being used.

Robin, Usopp, Franky, Brooke, Kohza, and a couple other people were there too; there was a subtle shift if interest as Ace spoke up. Except Robin, who, as always, kept her emotions expertly hidden. Though she _did_ give Zoro a _what-did-I-tell-you? _look.

"I still have around a month and a half; we made the deal around mid-August; so it should last until mid-November." Zoro argued, deciding to try to seize the moment to angle for more time to spend with Sanji.

"What! Fine….it's not like you'll be able to anything with twenty more days. I can't believe you're spending so much time with him. How can you put up with it?" Ace pulled a face.

"San—tthe _asshole_ gives me so much money—it's crazy!" Zoro slid into his little rehearsed song-and-dance, "He buys me everything I want, 'cuz I'm his _friend_." He said, adding a dash of sarcasm for good measure. The words tasted sour and they curdled in his mouth. He resisted the urge to spit and clear that nasty taste at the back of his throat.

This elicited a good laugh from the others, "Just milk the guy for what's he worth, eh Zoro?" giggled one of the guys standing around, trying to act tough. Zoro thought he went by the strange name of Mr.3.

Zoro smiled without much humor in response.

"Well, I have to admit," Ace mused, "Even though I'd hate to lose five hundred—it might be worth the money to see this prick get his just deserts. Huh, Zoro? I bet it makes you sick to hang around with this guy all the time—do you guys play badminton on his ball court and talk about how savage us Water 7's are?" He smirked fiercely.

Zoro felt a tired wave of anger wash through him and he wanted nothing more than to stand up and yell at Ace to shut the fuck up already. But Ace was looking at him expectantly with bitter eyes, waiting for him to laugh and say _'Sure Ace, the guy's a real racist douchebag.'_

'_Fuck you Ace; Sanji's not like that!'_ How he wished he could say that! He was impotently sick of it all and bursting with the desire to clear the name of his friend and confidant, the man he had come to trust enough to share everything with, enough to give him all his secrets; and as he strongly suspected, something else as well.

But it wasn't Ace's fault. It wasn't.

' _Hold on before it's too late; We'll run 'til we leave this behind; Don't fall just be who you are; It's all that we need in our lives; So live like you mean it; Love 'til you feel it; It's all that we need in our lives-'_

Sanji's caller ID ringtone. Zoro closed his mouth with a snap—he had been right about to offer up a lame reply—and dug out his phone; scrambling up from the floor where he had been resting and flipping it open, "Hello?"

"Corny ringtone, bro," Franky commented. "Is it your mom?" He crowed with laughter at his own lame joke. Everyone else, disinterested now that the lively topic of Sanji Blackleg had been discarded, fell back into their little side-conversations.

"Hey, Zoro—", Sanji's leisurely baritone was like music to his ears, "I was just calling—"

Zoro wasn't even aware that he was grinning foolishly, listening to Sanji's sultry voice, until Ace laughed and gave him a questioning look, and remarked, "You seem happy."

"It's my girlfriend," he said, still grinning, and not knowing what else to say that would jibe with the smile on his face.

"Didn't know you had one right now." Ace remarked, though Zoro could tell he didn't look very surprised, he had a reputation after all. "Who?"

"Ehh—you don't know her-she doesn't live here in Grand Line…I-have-to-go-though-bye!" Zoro called out over his shoulder, his cell still pressed to his ear where Sanji had fallen silent, and already half way out the door.

"Have fun!"Ace called back, amiably enough, he chuckled affectionately after Zoro, "Ahh…I love that man."

~0~

"Girlfriend? Was that the best you could come up with? Since when did I grow breasts and go out with you?" came Sanji's amused, slightly outraged voice from the phone. "Next time, say I'm your dad or something if you don't want people to know you're talking to me."

"Sorry about that _honey_," Zoro said, evilly sugarcoating his voice. "I just don't want people knowing of our forbidden love."

"Oh-ho, you wanna play mosshead? Wait—What was I saying again? Why'd I even call you?" Sanji muttered, flustered, "Damn it, I lost my train of thought." He muttered something unintelligible.

"Maybe you just wanted to hear the melodious sound of my voice?"

"Ha-ha. Oh wait. I remember—be ready at 3 PM tomorrow, I'm going to pick you up."

"And you still insist that we're not going out?" Zoro said, maliciously twisting the cook around his finger.

"Shut up. Just be ready; I'm going to take you somewhere."

"Sweet, dude. A date?"

"_Shut up!_ Are you on or not?" Breathless. He sounded like he was blushing. Hot. This was flirting and Zoro knew it.

"Sure, I'm on. Where are we going?" Zoro grinned; it was amazing how thirty seconds talking with this idiot already had him smiling, laughing, living, _happy_. He loved it.

"Somewhere. I can't tell you yet; it's a surprise. But you'll like it."

_The only thing I would like right now is you, naked, covered with whipped cream with a cherry on top_.

"Yeah? Well, I guess I will then."

"Okay, good. 3 PM. Don't forget."

"Yeah," Zoro, who had been wandering through Luffy's house, stopped and rested his hip against a doorframe, "Hey, want to hang out today?"

"Can't. Busy day at the Baratie." The obvious regret in the tone was so clear it was almost funny. And for a brief second Zoro wondered about when exactly they had fallen so quickly and irrevocably in friendship.

"Ah, well. Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow Sanji."

"Yeah…See ya Zoro."

"Later sweetcheeks." Zoro flipped his phone shut quickly, but not before hearing Sanji's muffled cry of '_fucker-'_ God, it was so much fucking _fun_ messing around with the cook; plus-he had always wanted to say that to Sanji.

He headed out, not wanting to return to the garage, but not before patting Luffy on the strawhat and snatching some grub to eat. The young kid had ransacked most of the pantry and all of the refrigerator so far. Ace was gonna blow when he found out.

He wondered where Sanji was going to take him? He'd forgotten to ask if he would need anything in particular to be prepared; he hoped he didn't. Zoro didn't want to be the one that stuck out or held things back.

~0~

The remainder of the day passed quickly with the expectation of being with Sanji tomorrow again.

Zoro hummed to himself in contentment as he cleaned his room and made himself a sandwich. It wasn't that good—but, hey, he was no Sanji.

Trained some. Slept some. Meditated.

Thought about Sanji.

Thought about Mihawk. Thought about Kuina. And about Blackbeard. About Ace. About Robin. About Kohza and Vivi Nefertari. About Usopp and Kaya. About the Supernova and the Schichibukai. About Don Kreig and his followers. About Arlong. About Smoker and the 'special unit' which called itself CP9.

About Sanji again.

So many people. So many lives and dreams. He wondered what would happen to all of them. He and his could still feel the sinister quiet which hung darkly in the air; it has not gone away, if anything, it had increased with a creeping insistence which boded unwell. They were all in the eye of the storm. And Zoro instinctively felt that it was going to be one _big_ fucking storm when it finally broke over their heads.

He turned in early that day; he couldn't seen to concentrate on his training and he felt his control over his swords slipping as they seemed to take advantage of his every distraction to cause trouble. Not so much Wadou—Kuina's sword—as the others.

When Zoro actually cut himself accidently with Sandai Kitetsu the third, he sheathed his swords in disgust, put a bandage on, gave up and called it a night.

He dreamt of Sanji. Of course. The cook was never far anymore. Zoro would replay their conversations through his head, relive the moments they had spent together, dream darkly and guilty of sex. And his nights were filled with Sanji Blackleg.

They were on a ship somewhere out in the ocean. _'Look-All Blue!_' Sanji exclaimed, pointing out to nowhere. Zoro moved to hug him, elated that he had found his dream at last; but before he could, Sanji fell into the water, but, somehow, Sanji fell into a chair, drinking coffee and crying.

He woke up gasping, with cold sweat drying on his body. Zoro glanced at the digital clock on his night stand. The red numbers read _3:07 AM. _

_I never would hurt him! I promised myself long ago not to fulfill that stupid bet! I don't even think I'll be able to leave him when November comes, fuck everyone!_ Frantic thoughts that were strange in their surrealism.

But still it was a while before he could return to sleep. And even then it was restless and shallow sleep, disturbed with strange, fragmented dreams.

~0~

"Ahhhhh…" Zoro stretched his arms above him and grinned, "It's beautiful."

"Isn't it?" Sanji smiled back and turned to look down at the pristine lake nestled in a cleft of hills and large evergreen trees, "Welcome to Yuba. Population—two."

"Really? We're the only ones here? It's such a nice place—I would think there'd be a lot more visitors," Zoro glanced around in vain for any sign of other people.

Now, looking at the breathtaking landscape, Zoro could understand the cook's excitement and his insistence on not telling Zoro anything—it was too beautiful for words. He could almost forget his strange dreams the night before—the sun helped drive away the nighttime shadows. But if he was telling the truth and today felt like a day for complete honesty—Zoro would have to say, it was less the sun and more the man. A small snatch from a song ran quickly through is head: _I know that I'm young/But If I had to choose him or the sun/I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun…_

Weird shit people thought in times of stress. Or not-stress.

"What's the grand occasion?" Zoro asked, giving himself a mental shake to rid himself of any mental baggage, and turning towards the blond cook.

In response, Sanji dug into the backpack he carried and tossed a notebook at Zoro, who deftly caught it and flipped it open. The first two pages were the log book for their time together and the _'activities'_ they had carried out with their '_baby_', written precisely in Sanji's neat slanted writing. Zoro flipped to the last page and scanned the bottom. It read, simply:

_October 3 Went Swimming with ZoSan as a celebration for the last day of the unit _

Zoro chuckled as he read again the name they had given to the baby; they had both gagged at giving the sack a _real_ name-that would make them seem too much like a _married couple_; next Zoro had refused to call it _Zoanji_ because it sounded like a zombie's name; and then Sanji had complained that _Saoro_ _still_ sounded like' _Zoro'_. So they had finally given up and put the first few letters of their name together. And _of course_ Sanji had wanted it to be named '_SanZo',_ so they had fought to see if it was going to be '_ZoSan_' or '_SanZo_'. And _of course_ he had won, even if Sanji had accused him of cheating.

So ZoSan it had been.

They had passed the forty hour mandatory mark a week ago; but they had both solemnly agreed that the extra hours would get them some much-needed extra credit—even they both had A's—and that they should try to get as many hours together as they could. It had been great; they had gone to the store, to the fair, to the park, to the mall, the gym—

But even the best things must come to an end.

…_as a celebration for the last day of the unit._

"I can't believe we're finished already…" he murmured.

"Yeah…I thought we should do something special as a celebration of sorts…you know, since we finally get to get rid of each other." Sanji said, his voice filled with false cheer.

"Yeah…finally rid of each other…"Zoro echoed hollowly. He had forgotten that the unit ended October 4 Monday. That is, tomorrow. Shit, someone stop time.

Sanji seemed to physically shake the sudden gloom off, "Anyway, this lake belongs to me and old man Zeff. It's outside Grand Line's city limits by only a few feet; so the air's clean and the noise level is down. The previous owner called it Yuba, and we just left it like that. I thought you'd like it."

The last was said in a sort of light questioning tone. Zoro nodded his head, "It's beautiful," he repeated, turning to look at the veritable oasis.

"The groundskeeper here takes real good care of it. We call him old 'Toh-Toh'. Come on, let's go swim.'"

Zoro started and turned as he heard the name, "Toh-toh? Isn't that Kohza's—_Whoa_, what are you _doing_?"

"I am _obviously_ stripping so I can swim." Sanji said, injecting just the right tone of mockery into his voice; and determined not to feel nervous or uncomfortable as Zoro tried not to look like he was ogling him. Before he could lose his nerve, Sanji defiantly tossed the shirt he had just pulled off onto the floor near their discarded backpacks and coolers they had dragged from his car. It landed near their flour baby. Ironic, that.

He felt a little exposed, standing there, with his chest, nipples, and stomach on show and feeling a little like an appetizing entrée on a buffet table, with the way Zoro's black eyes gleamed almost hungrily. Well, no going back now.

Anyway, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other bare-chested before. They had _wrestled_ wearing only shorts at the gym. So he shouldn't be acting like a shy teenage girl! Right? Right!

Sanji unbuckled his belt, resolutely trying not to do it either too fast or too slow, less Zoro think he was nervous—because he obviously _wasn't_. And pushed down his jeans, revealing a striped pair of swimming trunks. Stepping out of the leg loops, he glanced at Zoro, who was still standing there, watching his every movement, "Aren't you going to get undressed too?" he asked, his mouth feeling like it was filled with cotton. "You're just watching me creep."

"Sure," Zoro pulled his shirt over his head—a little _too _eagerly in Sanji's humble opinion— in one swift motion and tossed it on top of Sanji's, and gave him a strange look. Sanji twitched slightly at the symbolism, but said nothing, and Zoro's jeans soon followed Sanji's on the sand. "I don't have swimming shorts, though," the other man said ruefully after he had finally finished stripping and plucked at his green boxers absentmindedly.

"That's okay…I thought you might need some." Sanji said, a little shakily, "There's some in my bag…" he turned a little hurriedly and almost fled to his backpack, digging through it to come up with the promised shorts. "Here they are. You're about my size, so…they'll…they'll…" he trailed off. Zoro—that conniving _bastard, _though why he was a bastard was a confusing confusion—must have waited for the exact moment until he turned around to divest himself of his last stitch of clothing.

Sanji could feel himself nearly salivating as an internal scoreboard tallied up imaginary points for every rough landmark on Zoro's body which seemed chiseled out of some adamant marble by a master craftsmen.

Toned, muscled arms that looked—_were_—strong enough to hold him down and beat the shit out of him—or fuck him into submission. Not a bad thought that actually. _Five points. _Sure, he was a man and he enjoyed dominance in intimacy and all that; but he wasn't a caveman. During some of his and Nami's heavy make-out sessions; he would lay back and let Nami crawl on top of him and do whatever she wanted. He had even given _her_ oral sex a few times. It all came back into the give and take phenomena.

People just had it wrong sometimes. Personally Sanji sneered in chilly contempt at the muscled apes who bragged about their women and how they kept them in check. Obviously, they weren't very confident with themselves if they demanded constant reassurance of their manhood.

Sanji was enough of a man to let his lover take the reins of dominance and ride him into submission. It was pretty hot actually. Why do people think there are so many dominatrix women out there, offering their services? Ah well, it wasn't his problem if the poor idiots would never know that unique pleasure which came from submission and surrender.

This entire ideology blipped through Sanji's head in a few seconds while he contemplated seriously, for the first time, adding Zoro to the equation. What would it be like? No delicate, half-naked, perfumed Nami on top, stealing his mouth and breaths for her own uses; but strong, tanned arms holding him down in complete surrender as his captor did whatever he wanted. How would it like to be like that? _Make that ten points. _

Scarred chest and stomach; the twisted imperfections seared into the muscle with pride. Tough and rough. The body of a warrior…or a pirate. It gave him an interesting look. A cut too large to have come from anything but a knife, slashed across Zoro's stomach; an old gash diagonally cut through his pectoral; a burn mark narrowly luckily missed a brown nipple.

_Good thing…for that would have been a damn shame if it hadn't. Guy has nice, perky ones. _

And of course, _le main entrée_; his cock—uncircumcised and nestled in a nest of…moss? Zoro wasn't obscenely large nor disgustingly thick; he boasted an average, though nicely shaped dick. Suddenly, Sanji felt a lot like Goldilocks. _This one's too big…this one's too small…this one's just right! _He felt like bursting out laughing, but fought the urge fiercely—lest Zoro might take it the wrong way.

_Why am I even checking out his dick…?_

"So, am I around your size?" Zoro asking, his voice dripping with an emotion that Sanji understood too well, he wasn't a virgin. Knew too, what he meant with that suggestive question. But he'd be damned if he was going to let Zoro Roronoa fuck with him or try to make him blush and stammer like a middle school girl. And he knew how to play _that_ game just as well as Zoro. Better, even. He readied his weapons—perfected throughout a history of serious womanizing.

Time to play with the mossy. Guy was gonna be like Play-Doh in his talented hands. And the transition from competing in fight to competing in flirt was quite smooth. Smooth enough so both felt no awkwardness, no moments of _whatthefuck_. It just came, naturally. He no more felt the ground give way underneath him than he felt strange being so sexual with another man—with Zoro.

He no more felt the budding of the first seeds than he heard the sound of the hummingbird's wings. Seeds which had been sown long ago, nurtured in lust, watered with affection and interest. Seeds whose fruit are the harvest of that common, and much glorified enigma which we call by many names.

But all Sanji wanted to do right now was toss Zoro a lazy, disinterested glance, "Sure..." he drawled, not even bothering to act embarrassed that he had just been checking out Zoro's sex while the mossy watched him, "_Mine_ will fit _you_." He turned around casually, as though he wanted to give Zoro privacy, and pretended to savor the landscape in front of him; sliding his hand slowly into his back pocket for greater emphasis and effect. He might as well have said, '_You cock looks made for this ass baby'. _The tilt of his neck, the muscles of his back, the broad shoulders all were game.

Zoro shut his mouth with a snap so the drool didn't spill out; _God,_ was Sanji _hot_ and just awful. A sexy prostitute with a loaded gun in her purse; a cute little fox with unsheathed claws; a warm cup of hot chocolate with a wicked shot of Tequila. The metaphors could go on and on in worship. He was a sweating piece of nitroglycerine.

"So, can I have them?" he asked, not minding his nakedness in present company, but unable to think of a clever and more suggestive retort. It's not like he could think properly with all that distraction in front of him. Sanji _knew_ what he was doing too; must not mind doing it, and Zoro was willing to bet that the cook knew exactly what Zoro thought of him while he did it.

_Which makes it mutual. Whatever 'it' is. What-lust? Attraction? Desire? Need? Love? All of the above? Something else entirely?_

Sanji meanwhile, turned leisurely and raised one curly eyebrow after glancing down at the swim trunks in amusement, "Oh…you were talking about the shorts?"

~0~

"Hell no! That was definitely not 'your win'! You were cheating, bastard!" Sanji fumed at Zoro as the green-haired man drifted lazily around in the water, after having won a race across the lake.

"I didn't cheat. You're just that weak," Zoro retorted, splashing water at the chef.

"You started before I was ready and got a headstart!"

"Well, let's race again and see who's better!" called out Zoro, already starting off again to the other side.

"_Hey!"_

~0~

"Why the fuck aren't you tired?" Sanji demanded between breaths. They had just taken a couple hundred laps for fun. Yes, they were _that_ in shape.

"This is easy," Zoro smugly replied, "I was at Drum a couple months back—it's a small city up North—known for its freezing as fuck lakes and it's idiotic _ex-_mayor—the lakes there are below zero temps…during the summer."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"I went swimming during the winter."

Pause.

"Naked."

"Do you have a death wish or something? Or are you just stupid? I'm thinking the latter…"

Zoro ignored him, "I'm already a dead man if I'm chasing Mihawk."

"I guess you're right…" for the first time, Sanji looked a little disturbed at the mention of that name. Zoro's dream had become his dream too, unnoticed by him.

"I'm hungry though," Zoro offered.

"Come on then," Sanji started back. , "I'll treat you to something good…"

~0~

"What are you making? Smells good." Zoro peered over Sanji's shoulder as the chef spitted some meat he had brought in a Thermos on a small fire. He had also brought along a small barbeque grill and had placed it on a nearby picnic table which had been temporarily converted to Sanji's cooking station.

"_Carne Asada_ _con cebolla y cilantro cocinado al fuego lento."_ *

"I'll just nod my head like I understood what you said."

"It's meat. That's all you need to know," Sanji said, wry amusement in his voice and his tone the one reserved for uncivilized buffoons trying to understand culinary genius.

"Yumm…I want to see what the best cook in the world tastes like," Zoro said, lying his chin on Sanji's shoulder. His back pressed up against the others in unfamiliar ways and there was a whisper of hands on hips.

"You mean_, 'what the best cook in the world's food tastes like._'"Sanji corrected, doing nothing about the invasion into his personal bubble; only continuing to turn the meat slowly on the silver stakes.

"Hmm..yeah, that too," Zoro murmured, reaching up and placing his hands on either side of Sanji's waist. Lightly at first, the muscles in his forearms bunched in tension; and slowly placed his weight on them.

Sanji chuckled, "Hey, weirdo, if you wanna hug me, fine. Just don't nudge me, okay? I'm cooking here and I want this to turn out _perfecto_."

"So I can do anything I want as long as I don't mess you up?" Zoro said, pretending to leer evilly.

"I didn't say it like that. You're making it sound like you're intending to grope me, "Sanji frowned, concentrating on his spinning movements. "But yeah….If you look at it that way… I guess."

Zoro slid his hands down into Sanji's front pockets. They wear both wearing their jeans again, so he had to struggle to get his hands inside because Sanji's Levi's were a tight fit. Not that he was complaining.

Their shirts, they had left off, still piled on top of each other next to their flour baby. Except Sanji was wearing an apron over bare skin. From the back, it looked sexy—the only thing covering his strong, lined back were white strings. Zoro could see the lean muscles shifting subtlety with his every movement; it was fucking _mesmerizing. _

"Are your hands cold or something?" Sanji asked and then jokingly dropping his voice into a seductive tone, he murmured dramatically, "…_Or do you just enjoy touching me that much_?" Sanji's eyes never even left his food and his hands continued switching the strips of meat expertly, they were rock steady as always.

"The second one." Zoro replied without hesitation. He felt Sanji shrug.

"Why?", the cook's voice wasn't accusatory or demanding; if it had been, Zoro would have let go immediately; but he could only hear honest curiosity in Sanji's voice. And Zoro suddenly realized that this was the first time Sanji had ever questioned, even slightly, his actions.

"Because you're hot, "came the answer, as readily as the first. Joking, yet not joking. Truth, yet hidden. Just a glimpse he showed.

"Oh. Simple as that, huh? Thanks," Sanji said absentmindedly, he wasn't really surprised at Zoro's reply-had actually thought it would be something as simple and unashamed reason like that—and anyway, he didn't feel like dealing with the man right now—his train of thought had just left the station and was embarking on a track of contemplation of Zoro. Final destination: unknown.

Somewhere off he heard Zoro say, "I'm just messing cook—I'm trying to see if you have any money and then stealing it…"

Sanji had never really questioned Zoro's sudden bouts of intimacy before. He hadn't gone as far as he had done in the park since then; and Sanji had never gotten around to asking him why he had done that in the first place. But Zoro sure it hadn't kept his hands to himself since then, either. Sometimes, Zoro would go days without even shaking his hand; on others, he would literally drape himself on Sanji for the day. Saying idiocies such as, '_it's 'coz we're bromantics'_ and '_it's coz that chick over there has been following me around the gym since we got here; I'm gonna pretend we're gay so she can beat it.' _

He didn't know anymore. Sanji _did_ know that he didn't mind being touched so much by Zoro. The green haired man was pretty damn sexy once he thought about it. Plus, he was one of the best friends Sanji had ever had; maybe even the greatest. Simply put, Zoro Roronoa was probably the only man in the entire universe that Sanji would ever consider sleeping with. Fuck, _probably?_ He _was_ the _only_ man whose advances he wouldn't mind.

_Come on, Sanji, you're being a pussy here. Wouldn't mind? Hell, admit it already, man! He's the only man whose advances you would enjoy! Isn't that why you let him touch you and hug you and hold you? Like now!_

_I guess. _Sanji admitted absentmindedly to himself. _Zoro is…sweet. _

He laughed quietly to himself; what would Zoro say if he knew that, of all the descriptive badass words he could have come up with to characterize the gangster, he had chosen a tender, cute one. Zoro was probably feeling something weird curl up his spine.

"Something funny?", Zoro asked.

Sanji just shook his head and went back to his internal dialogue.

He had never really questioned Zoro or Zoro's actions. He had never thought that he would ever _like_ another man's affections. He didn't have anything against those that flew the rainbow flag—he just wasn't that way.

But then Zoro had come along. And when Zoro put his tanned, strong hands on his body—it wasn't like a man was touching him. It was Zoro, who was. Sanji knew he wouldn't be making any sense if he tried to explain it to an outsider. But that was all right; he was barely beginning to understand himself what was happening between Zoro and him…If anything was happening at all.

That night, at the park…things had happened—it seemed like they had exchanged more than just life stories and small touches. He had connected with Zoro perfectly, almost eerily. Sanji felt like there had been something that had happened, a subtle change, a mysterious point of no return. He also had been left with the feeling of things left unresolved; the tension vibrating for a climax that had never come.

Sanji wondered if Zoro felt the same; there were times when he would turn quickly and catch a strange, waiting, eager, anticipatory glitter in Zoro's black eyes that would disappear as soon as he turned; though the mosshead had been less and less bothering to hide it lately. Whatever _it_ was.

Sanji wondered what would happen when he finally knew.

_I think we've gotten quite interested in each other…sexually, physically, romantically. _

_I like him. I really do. _

"Zoro." he said suddenly, abruptly, "Food's ready."

~0~

Late afternoon now.

Sanji and Zoro lay sprawled together lazily on the shoreline; their shadows stretching out long behind them. Water a gorgeous pool of gold and orange. Dusk approaching, lurking in the outskirts, manifested in the elongated shadows and slight chill; an unwelcome specter.

"Zoro…"

Zoro turned as his name spoken, curious, for the cook's voice reverberated with a wistful sadness that he had never heard before; but recognized instantly. He knew that if he spoke now, the cook would hear it too in his own tone.

Time was passing. Time was passing and yet…he could feel something in the air; the same expectancy that had permeated their relationship was building slowly again; developing leisurely with soft, determined haste to its breaking point once again. It first competed with, then masked the unease that continued to haunt him throughout the days.

But Zoro instinctively understood that this time it was for the last time. A now-or-never point. If nothing happened now; then it would never again surface. Things would change, somehow. He didn't know. He just _knew._

And he began to feel the first feelers of desperation reach out and stroke him with chilly fingers; entreating him to action. Time was passing—it seemed to rush visibly all around him and Zoro longed to be strong enough to reach out and stop it. He needed to _do something_, but he had no idea what.

"Sanji," he murmured instead, letting the cook know that he had heard.

"It sucks that we can't hang out anymore after this…"

The words struck right into Zoro's heart, "Why can't we?" he asked slowly. So Sanji was also lamenting the end of everything. Though he very well knew why they _couldn't._

Sanji flashed him an irritated look, softened by an obvious affection, "Because everyone will drop a load in their pants if we do. You know how touchy society can be—they'd be outraged at our friendship."

"Fuck-I never thought you'd be the type to pay attention to what people say, "Zoro muttered, disappointed. Though he understood perfectly. It didn't stop the bitterness though. If anything, it increased it.

"I'm not!" Sanji snapped back, goaded, "It's just that…I don't know-I wouldn't give a fuck what people say as long as—" he cut himself off.

"As long as what?" Zoro asked, turning to throw Sanji an inquisitive look at the sudden break off.

"As long as I'm with you." The words were abrupt and defiant.

Zoro's eyes widened and he felt a twist in his chest as his heart somersaulted. He didn't know what to say; everything that came to mind came out sounding corny or lame in his head and he didn't even want to know how it would sound out loud. He settled for nodding his head and grinning like an idiot. God, he was so happy—to hear Sanji say something like that. Corny, but one of those things which make one feel like the top of the world.

He could feel Sanji waiting for some kind of response though, Zoro managed to clear his head and wipe the goofy expression of his face, as much as he could at least and choke out, "Hell yeah, I want to hang out with you too Sanji. I don't care either; what people say…" He shrugged and threw a rock across the water. It was jagged and didn't skip easily, sinking after the first beat. Zoro didn't even notice.

Sanji's expression was struggling between incredulity and shy delight and a funky joyous expression which made him look younger "You serious?"

"Sure. Sanji—you _are_ like my best friend," Zoro said, rolling his eyes at the cook's suspicions.

"_What_? You're not just fucking with me Zoro? Me? I know you're _my_ best friend-there's no one else like you—that I know _and _that I like—but you, I thought you had tons-Ace-Robin-Ussop-Kohza-"

Now they were competing as to who considered the other more of a best friend.

"Wait, wait, Sanji. Sure I have good friends, best friends even. But you…you're different," Zoro said slowly, "You _draw _me. There's something about you…" It was Zoro's turn to sound uncomfortable. "Whatever, it doesn't matter—I like you. You like me. We should hang out."

"O-Okay…That was fast," Sanji smiled. He could feel a strange warmness in his body, radiating out from his chest. It was like a small flame which flared to a bonfire every time Zoro spoke, every time he looked at him, every time they touched. Useless to deny it. Was he even trying anymore?

Sanji let his gaze linger over Zoro's face and features. The shadows overlapped it and hid the fine details—

"Zoro!" Sanji said suddenly , "I didn't even notice how late it's getting…We should be heading back soon, so we don't get there obscenely late." He stretched.

He saw Zoro nod and get up reluctantly; beginning slowly to strip off his shorts and reach for his jeans lying nearby.

"Wait—"

Zoro looked up questioningly, one leg already out.

"Let's go for another swim," Sanji invited, shrugging out of his sweater. "Before we go." He knew it was a bad idea—especially this late—but Sanji felt an inexplicable urge to do it. Instinct. Whatever. No time to question it. Anyway, this was the last time they'd be here, probably.

Zoro shrugged, but pulled his shorts back on, "Are you crazy? It's nearly dark-the water must be fucking freezing."

"I thought you did that _'Winter Training'_ of yours," Sanji jibed throwing his sweater at Zoro's head, "Scared?"

"Worried about you. Don't think you can handle it."

"Ha-ha. Let's see about that _mosshead_—" Sanji dived into the lake. Zoro following, seconds after.

They resurfaced together a couple yards from the shore, after giving a few warm-up strokes around to heat up their cold muscles. Sanji smiled at Zoro, who grinned back, thinking that Sanji looked absolutely beautiful with his hair wet and plastered to his head; the bright blond subdued—and in the dark, silver. Early moonlight, when falling on the right spots, turned his hair a subdued silver. Beautiful as a weapon is beautiful; exquisite and dangerous. The second enhancing the first; or maybe _because_ of the latter.

Like a sword.

His fourth sword? He shivered, suddenly feeling the chill of the lake. Damn, it _was _little cold.

"You cold?" he asked, hoping Sanji would agree, and he'd have an excuse to bearhug him. No such luck.

"Water's perfect! I bet you're the one who's freezing his ass off." Sanji gave him one of those smirks which made Zoro want to simultaneously fuck him and bash his brains out.

"Kind of," he answered instead, maybe Sanji wouldn't be so stingy and hug _him_. No such luck.

"Hah! I knew it. What you need is to keep in constant motion—warm you up. Let's race," Sanji swam in a circle around Zoro challengingly.

"Huh. That's not much of an exercise for me. I can beat you without even breaking a sweat…Can't you think of something more…oh, I don't know… _strenuous_?" Zoro knew he had pissed off the cook

righteously when the curl in his eyebrow scrunched up tight. It was so easy.

"Race. To the other shore. Now." Sanji snapped, glaring at him.

Lazy look. "Need a handicap? A little headstart?"

"Shithead. I can beat you anytime, any day."

"Oh yeah?" Zoro murmured, feeling as if he had been transported back in time—who did Sanji, fearless, at the point of a precipice, undaunted, challenging, remind him of?

"Yeah." Sanji was breathing fire.

"Wanna bet?" Zoro grinned. _Who said that __Life is but a great wheel—?_

"Game."

"I'll bet fifty bucks if you win." _Those_ _who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it. Who said that? I've been here before. _

"Against what? How 'bout free meals from the Baratie for the next year? Givenchy suit?" Sanji ventured, paddling to keep afloat.

"Against a kiss." _Let's bet for keeps Sanji. I'm gambling my heart today. _

Sanji stared at him for a second which felt like eternity then growled, "What?"

"You lose…I get to kiss you. On the mouth," Zoro repeated, looking at him, it was too dark to read his features. All he saw was the line of his cheekbone and the whites of his eyeballs, his mouth still stretched in a challenging sneer. His tone was serious. "It's what I want. You got balls for that?"

He could hear Sanji's breathing and then, "_You're on."_

_Déjà vu. _So perfect the recollection.

~0~

_Against a kiss? _What the fuck was Zoro thinking, asking something like that? What the fuck was _he_ thinking, _accepting_? This was_ insane_, no matter _how_ you looked at it.

If he lost, then he would have to kiss Zoro. Period.

Like fuck he would back down from a direct challenge, no matter the circumstances. If he didn't want to kiss Zoro, then all he had to do was focus on winning. But…the idea of _losing_ brought a strange species of excitement with it. A first.

He was crazy for doing this. It felt oddly sexual, he felt slightly like a prosititue.

"Ready?" he grated, tensing his muscles.

"Set.", came Zoro's steady baritone from somewhere to his left.

"_Go!_" They were off; shoulder to shoulder. Sanji sliced through the water with long, experienced strokes.

But _Zoro_. If Sanji sliced through the water-then Zoro flew through it. His body cut the waves effortlessly, his whole body a blade rivaling the steel of his swords. He was up and out of the water fully five yards ahead of Sanji, droplets still clinging to the tips of his spiky green hair. He turned and grinned at Sanji, who was scowling at him, knowing he must look like a buffoon, beaming like he had just won a million dollars.

The most crucial minute and seconds of his life had elapsed in time. Extinguished. He would never remember how it had felt.

In a way he had, though. He thought Sanji would've refused to gamble for such _unusual_ stakes. The whole bet idea had struck him in a cloud of desperate ingenuity. And he was getting tired of just waiting for things to happen; he was Zoro Roronoa, a man for action! It was time to take initiative; to take the blond cook down!

So when Sanji had amazingly _accepted_; the poor guy had been fucked from the beginning. The fishes themselves wouldn't beat him if there was a chance for him to score a kiss with the handsome prince.

And another darker reason. It felt like some of the stigma that haunted him from his other bet, had faded somewhat with this new bet. A bet that was clean and aboveground. And which, most importantly, Sanji knew all about.

And anyway, a fucking bet had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place…one should get him out—and it had—he had—

_-won! I won the bet! I won my kiss with Sanji! Sanji has to kiss _me! _Sanji has to _kiss _me! I won! _Zoro felt he could run around the world, jump over the moon, pick up large boulders and crush them with his bare fingers.

_If I win…I get to kiss you…on the mouth…it's what I want. _Had he really said those words?

"What are _you_ so happy about?" came Sanji's irritable voice, as he climbed out of the water. _Damn it, I lost. _He was surprised to find he was more annoyed with the fact that he had let _Zoro_ win; then with what he had_ 'lost'_.

_He said he wanted to kiss me…as in mouth-on-mouth kiss. _He could feel the trembling in his very soul.

"I won! I won the bet!" Zoro triumphantly crowed, cockily, and at the same time inched shyly closer to the wet cook.

"Yeah, yeah. Good for you," muttered Sanji, resolutely pretending to not notice Zoro's advances. He bent down to wring the water out of his shorts, ignoring Zoro completely. Masking his own embarrassment and great sense of _what do I do? How should I accept it? Where do my hands go? Should I take the lead? Open my mouth? Let him tongue me? Should I just…refuse? No, I can't. _

And then.

_I don't want to. _

"I won the bet!", Zoro said, frowning at him, "I, um, _get my prize_!" he scratched at the back of his head distractedly, not sure if he should just grab Sanji and force him.

"And?" Sanji drawled, feeling vindicated in his loss with the torture he could still inflict.

"Oi! We made a deal!" Zoro huffed, _goddamn cook_, maybe he hadn't even been planning on fulfilling his part of the bet all along, "Your word's on the line here cook! You said if I won, I'd get to kiss you—"

"Okay, okay! I didn't think you were actually serious though!" Sanji interrupted, chuckling, "Get worked up about it, why don't you? I thought you were joking!" He grinned widely.

Zoro glared at him, flushing, "Fuck you. Never mind then, forget it—" He turned away, pissed, ashamed.

"Jesus Christ! I was just kidding! All right! Come here" Sanji exclaimed, gesturing Zoro over while he crossed the distance and seized him by the upper arm, turning him back.

They looked at each other. Eyes wide and even a bit fearful.

Zoro edged in close; he saw Sanji swallow audibly and reach out and clutch a handful of his shirt and draw him near. Zoro stood rock-still as Sanji angled his blonde head so he could kiss Zoro comfortably.

All he could think of was Sanji drawing close; his approaching lips. The way his eyes was trying to stay shut but couldn't help wavering open every second and peeking.

Then, trembling lips at his own. Heavy breathing even though the swim had ended. Sanji whispered, "Come on, this is what you wanted isn't it?" He didn't even feel the hands on his cheeks, turning his head.

Then, warmness.

He couldn't even close his eyes to add to the romance; though Sanji did. Zoro could see his lowered lid and his ridiculously curled eyebrow drawn in concentration as Sanji's mouth worked against his. And he was finally kissing Sanji maybe it was more like Sanji Blackleg was finally kissing him.

Zoro snapped back into the moment; lifting his hands and gripping the sides of Sanji's head tightly, brushing off Sanji's hands. Glorying in the feel of the yellow silk between his fingers, he gently forced Sanji to angle his head even more so that they could kiss more deeply.

So strange the feeling of another man moving with him. This was so utterly _new. _It was like his first kiss. It _was _his first kiss. His stomach fluttered and his face burned and there was no need for oxygen.

He had wanted to do this for the longest time; and now that he was finally fulfilling that wish, he couldn't even think—he had lost himself completely in the sensations of their lips and mouths merging sweetly. Long, slow kisses of desire and exploration. He understood that in their mouths they had met at last.

Was it Sanji who was trembling, or was it him who was shaking? Zoro felt indistinguishable from the other man; unable to determine where he ended and where Sanji began—

He didn't dare breath; lest Sanji should waver and dematerialize into shadows once he did. His lungs burned with the lack of air.

Sanji gripped his hips tightly; massaging them.

"Sanji—"he panted, separating for an instant before they could not bear the absence of each other's lips and reconnected desperately. He crushed the other man to him and held him like everything precious in the world.

"What—" Sanji gasped into his mouth; but Zoro found himself unable to answer, at least for a few more minutes, as Sanji allowed his tongue to be drawn out and tasted.

Zoro had never would have believed that Sanji would have allowed him to go so far; couldn't even begin to wonder what kind of responses the cook's body could draw from him. It was useless to deny. He knew immediately that he never wanted to leave this man's side. Knew that he would never look at another woman or man after this; knew that now he would never be satisfied with anything but Sanji. Knew that tasting Sanji had left him drunk with adoration and lust; the cook's lips had only whetted his appetite; knew that he wanted to be with Sanji, on Sanji, beneath Sanji, in Sanji; and Zoro knew one more thing.

Zoro knew he had to say it; tell Sanji the truth—he couldn't go on anymore living a lie. He needed Sanji to know—he wouldn't—c_ouldn't—_have it any other way. To hell with the fact that such a confession could possibly ruin everything; make him look like an idiot; drive Sanji off, cause the very heavens to rupture and shatter.

This was just another bet. Another gamble. And when did Roronoa Zoro back down?

Sanji felt Zoro's mouth leave and he opened his eyes in annoyance; then Sanji felt his chin taken in a strong, reliable grip and gently straightened until he was drowning in Zoro's black eyes. Black…with flecks of green? Black marble. He had never noticed before. He had never been so close before. He had never kissed another man before. There was nothing to keep their chests from rocking together.

And then Zoro was kissing him again. And Sanji gave up trying to reason and explain; there was no room for questions or doubts when Zoro kissed him like that. Strongly, then gently; his lips setting a fast and rapid tempo and immediately switching to long, deep kisses. It was like having sex in a kiss. That was the only thing Sanji could compare it to. They were telling each other things they never said before with their tongues.

"Ahh..Sanji-"Zoro moaned into the other man's mouth, realizing that he had been repeating his name over and over and over into Sanji's mouth; between kisses and pants; after sighs and pleasured moans.

It was time to put all the cards on the table; to hell with it all.

"_Sanji-"_A sloppy kiss; burning hot and slick with saliva. "_oh, I-" _Tongues attempting futilely to grind against each other; in a frantic effort to feel each other more."_-I love-" _Sucking on his neck; determined to draw a possessive bruise; eagerly drinking in his own name, cried out and moaned. Reservations abandoned without a look behind; a lifetime of heterosexuality set down wordlessly. That was then; this was now-and time ceased to exist as they discovered each other fully, finally.

"_-Sanji, I love-" _Slipping his hands up and over Sanji's slick chest and stomach; feeling the man's desire coursing off his body in waves of heat. Somewhere along the way; Sanji had linked his hands behind Zoro's head; his inner forearms rubbed lightly against his neck, the movements slick with sweat and water."_Sanji-I love-"_

Nipples an abused color; lips, a matching color; he was fully erect; Sanji was just as hard and aroused; he threw back his head and let out a low cry which tapered down into a series of erotic moans when Zoro bit down hard on his hip. How they ended up on the floor was a mystery, how they could still discern who was who and what was what was a greater one.

"_-you. Sanji-you-I love you-so much-" _He finished, whispering it into Sanji's ear. His most dread secret.

And he did. He wasn't sure when it had happened; hadn't realized it had until he was three-quarters of the way there, and even then, only vaguely. It had been a freak accident; a cosmic mishap—but it had happened. He had fallen utterly in love with this man. Fuck everything and everyone else—it was Sanji who would come first most now 'til the end of his life. He was addicted, permanently.

Zoro hands gripped his thighs as the mosshead returned to his mouth and worshipped it with his kisses; adored it with his tongue. Zoro kissed the corners of his mouth, sloppily licked both the bottom and top lips, bit his mouth hungrily.

It wasn't so much a kiss as it was an erotic meshing of mouths; a sexual tango of tongues. It was a kiss between their entire bodies; Zoro frantically moved his hands over every inch of Sanji he could reach, the lustful movements of a man who, has been starved for years is suddenly presented with a seven-course meal. A man, who rediscovers the burning brand of his virginity.

Sanji couldn't even think about what Zoro had just confessed; but there was no real surprise—it had been a confession preknown—only an amazing feeling of satisfaction and roaring triumph…as well as the return of the sentiment tenfold. No questions. _Love you too_ burst through his head and it was such a potent and pregnant feeling that Sanji thought he had cried it out and so never said it.

Zoro slid his palms up and fisted his hands in Sanji's hair; forcing Sanji to angle his head again so that he could have better access. Sanji broke away to gulp in some breaths; but Zoro immediately reclaimed his mouth; thrusting himself in roughly without so much as a by-your-leave; kissing him in a way that he had never been kissed before; kissing him so passionately and violently he felt both ardently loved and disgustingly used. Both a god to this man; and his cheap prostitute.

All thought was wiped clean from his mind as Zoro kissed him; there was nothing beyond the fire of their connected mouths and the roaring in his ears. He was dizzy and elated; exhausted to the core of his being; and burning with passion. He would simultaneously explode and fall down dead. He didn't think he could take this much longer; the moment Zoro stopped he would die.

Zoro could feel Sanji tiring from the constant plundering of his mouth, tongue, and lips. The cook would break away more and more to catch his breath; though each time Zoro would stop him—liking the way Sanji looked tired and sated—hot, sweaty, panting, lips bruised, eyes half closed in surrender and sexual ecstasy; a trace of saliva running from the corner of his mouth.

Zoro licked it up slowly. Giving Sanji time to catch his breath. He gently loosed Sanji's hands from his neck; and pushed the cook down and laid him down on the ground. Sanji, still panting softly, let himself be handled, but his body stiffened with tension and he had a wary look in his blue eyes. "Zoro…" he gasped. "What—there's some things—that—I don't—don't I _don't_–ugh—ahh—_Zoro_—_uhhhh_— " the rest was dissolved in a moan as Zoro sucked his nipple, then drawing back to use his tongue to worry at the hardened flesh.

Zoro had to stifle a grin as he heard Sanji let himself go with the vocals; the man was obviously not very experienced if he moaned like he had been paid and bought. Or maybe he was just that good at t his. Well, he had been practicing in the deep corners of his mind for this.

Time to take it to the next level. Whatever that might mean when you were talking about two guys. What _was_ next? He shrugged off the stirrings of misgivings in his stomach and concentrated on the task at hand—which was licking up the sweat between the hard lines of Sanji's stomach and chest. He had never thought the flavor of the salty fluid would ever taste ideal—but on Sanji it was delicious.

Sanji was trembling slightly; his breaths coming in loud, aroused gasps- Zoro could feel the vibrations through his upper body and the sudden arch of his back and embarrassed cry when he dared to thrust the tip of his tongue into the cook's adorable bellybutton and swirl it energetically. Girls loved it as far as he knew.

"Zoro—" Sanji shuddered, "Zoro—stop—too much—" He pushed at the top of Zoro's head with no real strength, all of it having been exhausted a while ago. Sanji could still feel the strange sensation of Zoro's warm wetness twisting in his navel. His stomach was clenching and unclenching spasmodically and his cock stuck straight out, embarrassing in its obvious arousal.

It wasn't that he didn't Zoro to do anything more; he did—he _really_ did—but just…not now. Not before things had been cleared up. He was a complete and utter mess of sex and heat; of desire and unspilled come. Sanji needed something to anchor himself.

Zoro did stop, to his credit, but more from confusion on what to do next, then from any guilt from pushing Sanji a little too hard. Sanji's upper body had been exposed—so open to free game—but he had reached the ambiguous short line. Zoro desperately wanted what was underneath in a confused sort of way; but apprehension and hesitance held him back. He still wasn't sure what Sanji felt about him—the cook had never said anything when Zoro had told him that he loved him….but he hadn't said it back either.

~0~

They lay piled on top of each other, gathering their senses which had been scattered to the four winds; Zoro's head pillowed on Sanji's stomach—and slowly, realization of what had happened, came.

Sanji regained his breath; and his heart stopped stampeding in his chest, but his cheeks turned red as he felt the stickiness on his chest from Zoro's licks; the throbbing from his bitten nipples; the embarrassing red bite marks all over his body.

Oh, god—how he had liked being used by this man. It had been the most intense kiss he had ever had in his life; better than sex with Nami, better than any kiss he had ever received. The others had been a small shower of rain in comparison with the fucking_ storm_ that kissing Zoro had given him.

—_Love is always a Hurricane Sanji. It will come where it wishes and when it so desires and your plans and ideas, goals and aspirations will stand before it no more than a cheap flimsy hut would stand before the rage of a typhoon. Remember that well Sanji, for when you find the right one. _

Whose words? What saying? He didn't remember. Vague recollections of the mariners on the ship he had spent his childhood in appeared fuzzily in his head. All he could remember for sure was that little quip clamoring around his stunned mind.

_Love is always a Hurricane. _

…_.I love Zoro…I fell in love with him. I'm crazily insane in love with him…and he with me. _

No use denying it anymore. And he didn't. Sanji searched every cell in his body for a fraction of denial or anger. All he could come up with was a fleeting half-thought—_I can't believe I fell in love with a man, me, the Prince of Ladies!_

But—was it one-sided? Ninety-nine percent of his body knew that Zoro had not been lying when he had said _'I love you'_. But still….he was struck with the sudden need to hear Zoro say it again. It could all be a dream. A twisted, unfortunate one.

"Zoro—"Sanji said, after an initial embarrassed cough, "Um—that was…I mean…Did-you-really-mean-_it?"_

Zoro didn't even need to ask what he was talking about, "I did. What's so confusing?" He frowned as he looked up at Sanji, who was restlessly moving a hand in his hair.

Sanji shrugged, "It's just that—I can't believe we just fucking _made out_. That's _crazy—_and then I realize that I should just give up and tell you-and then I think 'maybe _you_ don't—well, I mean to say—" he paused and let out a whoosh of pent up breath, "_oh fuck it—_Zoro, I hate to say it, considering you're the most idiotic man I have ever known, _but…_I love you." Sanji looked up defiantly.

"I was wondering when you'd spit it out already," Zoro said, his smile stretching to a delighted grin.

"So sure of yourself aren't you?" Sanji said sarcastically; feeling a sort of satisfied bemusement as they slipped back into their usual banter without a pause. Some things never change apparently. They were jabbing and jibing and he still tasted Zoro's lips on his own and they were in love and admitting it. Holy shit.

Zoro shrugged, "Well yeah…we passed the 'what straight guys shouldn't do' mark a while back. I'm just fucking glad I'm not lying to me…or to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about,"Sanji refused to meet Zoro's dancing eyes. He was getting a weird, creepy feeling in his stomach. This was starting to turn into one of those, '_let's talk about our relationship_' talks.

"Oh come on…have you ever jacked off thinking about me?" Zoro asked suddenly. He was still on his stomach, chin digging funnily into his abdominals.

"_What!_"

"Damn it! You suck cook! You need to get some release."

"_What! _What do you _mean_ have I ever…? Jesus Christ! Have _you?_ Wait! Don't answer that—"

"Hey. Only a couple. After you dropped me off at my friend's house and after the stupid apron thing." Zoro shrugged again.

"_What the fuck?_ _What are you? Some kind of sex addict? And what the hell—after I dropped you off! We barely knew each other back then!" _Sanji was too freaked to even get up and run away screaming.

Zoro was laughing, burying his face in Sanji's belly, snorting laughter, "So? You were hot! I couldn't help it! Anyway, we were rolling all over each other when we were fighting—kinda turned me on…Damn."

"And the apron! I thought you had been dumped by '_Usoppa_?'" Sanji smirked, "Or maybe you wanna tell me what _really_ happened, now?" Amusement was overpowering the surprise by now. How much before him had Zoro realized that there was something between them other than friendship?

"Um—if I remember correctly, I was thinking of banging you-and then I wanted to kiss you—almost did, actually…I was kind of confused though at the time though…" Zoro mused.

"Holy shit! Has all the time we've been together been you day dreaming about fucking me?" Sanji

exclaimed, not knowing whether to be flattered or offended.

"It's only because I love you," Zoro muttered, shifting his eyes away. And the repetition of the declaration again struck Sanji. He couldn't help but melt a little inside and smile.

"Though I kind of made out with your unconscious body in the car that one time—" Zoro mused.

_Wait, I love this idiot?_

"Holy fucking shit! Wait, so this wasn't out first kiss?" Sanji demanded, slapping the top of Zoro's head.

"Well, it was, kind of…this time was _real_," the sincere satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.

"But still—"

"Ehh—get over it. We'll be doing more later anyway," Zoro muttered.

"What! When did you decide that?" was the immediate exclamation.

"Well…_Duh_. It's a no-brainer. I love you…you love me—"

"If you say 'we're a happy family' I swear to God I'll kill you and then I'll suicide 'coz I won't want to remember you touching me," Sanji interrupted.

"I wasn't going to say that. Why would I say that?" Zoro demanded, looking surprised.

"Wait, you've never watched Barney?" Sanji looked surprised.

"Who's that?"

"…..Never mind."

"Well, anyway—" Zoro continued, "I don't see what's wrong with wanting to be with you _that way_ if we both feel _that way_." He yawned and looked at Sanji expectantly.

"Urgh…" Sanji groaned, "This is so weird…Please don't tell me we are going to talk about our…_love_."

"And why the fuck not?" Zoro glared at him, "Do you even know how long I've loved you! I thought I was going insane! Then I thought I was hitting puberty again! Then I thought I was some sick fuck! You know how long I've finally dealt with the fact that I _loved you?_"

"Let me guess…it was love at first sight?" Sanji said, sarcasm dripping off every word. He gazed loftily down at the other man.

Zoro smirked and then softened it to a grin, "Nope. Since you told me to go fuck myself. I think I really fell for that."

There was a moment of shocked silence on Sanji's part, before he burst out into peals and peals of unrestrained and carefree laughter. After a considering moment, Zoro joined in. Story of their life.

He got up, noticing that the sky was mostly a dark blue, and offered a hand to Sanji, "Let's get back to the other shore so we can go home. Race you? Except I promise not to ask for anything…else."

Sanji seized his hand let himself be pulled up, but instead of letting go, he gripped it fiercely, and gave him a level stare, "Zoro…This is the only time I'm going to say this—Don't fuck with me. If I find out this is your idea of a funny joke—"

Zoro snapped his arms out, hauled him forward, and shut him up with a kiss.

~0~

They were almost on Zoro's street when they realized that they had left their flour baby behind.

~0~

_**Author's Note: Thanks for reading this chapter thirteen. Finally I fixed it up—when I first published it, it removed all the section dividers so it was a bit confusing. I never fixed it until now. Now I did! And this chapter was the last one that I was planning on heavily revising. I think that after this, my improvement showed itself, mostly because I think this was the hardest chapter to write. Now that this is done I can focus all my attention on writing the next chapter! **_

_**[1] Isn't it lovely to be in love? I had a boyfriend when I was writing this (not anymore…it got too crazy) and he called me Sweetcheeks. I hated it and relished it and he liked to hang up on me after saying it. Cute bastard. **_

_**[2] Yeah, Sanji spoke Spanish because he's awesome like that. Anyway, it's Los Angeles. He said, "Grilled Meat with Cilantro and Onion cooked Over Slow Fire" **_


	14. Real Power

Chapter Fourteen

Real Power

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity  
To seize everything you ever wanted-

One moment  
Would you capture it or just let it slip?

-"Lose Yourself", Eminem

~0~

"_True love, like any other strong and addicting drug, is boring - once the tale of encounter and discovery is told, kisses quickly grow stale and caresses tiresome… except, of course, to those who share the kisses, who give and take the caresses while every sound and color of the world seems to deepen and brighten around them. As with any other strong drug, true first love is really only interesting to those who have become its prisoners. And like any other strong and addicting drug, true love is dangerous."_

_-Stephan King, "Wizard and Glass"_

"We have to come here again someday…". The whispered words floated lazily in the air.

One last kiss by the lake.

Then they were off, for Water 7 and Eneis Lobby waited, expectantly.

~0~

The days passed in a pleasant daze and it seemed like the world receded as they submerged themselves fully in one another.

They told excuses and lies; they would recount half-truths and stories in order to find a way to meet and touch.

They loved in secret, dangerously.

They would risk everything to meet, however limited the time.

They gambled with each kiss they shared and with every caress drawn. And still the dice continued to roll favorably each time so that they grew unreasonably confidant and recklessly fool-hardy in their desperate betting.

~0~

The first time, Zoro had called Sanji around 3 AM in the morning; deciding to err on the safe side of discretion by summoning his not-quite-yet lover at a time when most sane people, who were not quite drunk on that rash and hotheaded wine called love, were sleeping quietly in bed.

Sanji had not been quite so happy to be so unceremoniously raised at such an unholy time, he had a job which demanded early mornings and late nights, as he complained to his arduous lover. And so that ill-fated rendezvous had ended in not quite the way Zoro had been secretly hoping for. After another round of deep-throated kisses and exploring hands, Sanji had tiredly pushed him off and crawled under the covers, falling asleep before Zoro had even registered his absence.

Zoro had sighed, frustrated, as he looked at the sleeping form, unsure of how one could go from making out to sleeping in just a matter of seconds. It had been only a few days from the events at Yuba and Zoro had been passing restless nights in which he could only think of the blonde man which now owned his life, for better or for worse.

He ended up crawling into his bed with Sanji and settled with placing kisses on his smooth blonde head and naked back before shifting the sleeping cook on top, cradling his golden head on his chest, and pulling up the green quilt to cover the two of them.

_It wasn't that great of a loss_, he thought fuzzily, as he drifted off to sleep, feeling the pleasant beat of Sanji's heart against his and the small weight of his curled hands on his chest.

~0~

The next few times, Zoro made sure he didn't call Sanji at _too_ of an inconvenient time, and the results were much better than the first attempt. His house, Sanji's house, in a dark and distant theater, in any number of hidden parks, they would take their needs a step further.

Whether it was another piece of protective clothing discarded while they felt each other up, or another pleasure center discovered and plundered, they were educating themselves in the heretofore unknown and rather feared realms of sex between two men. Educating themselves a little too quickly, in Sanji's private opinion, and not quick enough, in Zoro's frustrated view.

_It's not like I don't want to have sex with Zoro_, Sanji ruminated as he thoughtfully flipped a wad of dough on a flour-dusted counter located in the back of one of the Baratie's immense kitchens. _It's just…these things take time…He should know that it's hard to…to…get ready…_ his mind would steadfastly refuse to contemplate further, seeking refuge in the pretext of '_It's probably just like having sex with a chick, only the other way.'_

More and more often, Zoro would bring up hints of taking the next step in their relationship. Sanji would nod and smile and do nothing. He preferred to wait, thank you very much. They had only been 'together' for a couple weeks now; and though he trusted Zoro utterly and completely, blindly; Sanji still felt _something_ holding him back. And to dwell into whatever _it_ was would be to delve into regions he particularly did not want to explore necessarily.

Sanji chuckled nostalgically, remembering how he had nearly had a heart attack when Zoro had first grabbed his dick and proceeded to give him the _worst_ handjob he had ever had. The mosshead had gotten better at it in the few times they had gotten that far since then; though, he, Sanji, had never gotten around to jacking his lover yet, preferring always to be pleasured and coddled; leaving Zoro to lead, as he was the more experienced of the two. So far, Zoro hadn't complained.

And, time was something Sanji did not consider themselves short of. So he continued to mentally prepare himself cheerfully. There was nothing wrong in his world, despite the fact that he had to hide his relationship, but still Sanji felt particularly blessed that he had ever met Zoro; and considered his clandestine relationship with his green-haired swordsman the best thing to ever have happened in his life.

To sneak around ran against his nature, but he knew it was for the best. And he highly preferred an affair-style relationship than none at all. They had both agreed. At Yuba.

_Before they had left, he had reached out and gripped Zoro's shoulder; there was something that he needed to say, before anything else, that he had been meaning to say before they got any further along and he forgot again, "Zoro. I need to say something. To tell you something-"_

"_What?", Zoro looked simultaneously as though he was going to be shot down or if he had just been caught red-handed doing something petty and vindictive. _

_Sanji's long fingers gripped Zoro's shoulders hard enough to hurt and his blue eyes burned into his, "I don't care what anyone says, or how hard we have to work at it…or even if we have to sneak around and hide all this as if we were committing adultery or something-I…I can't give this up. I feel like…like I've finally found something-for once in my life- I've found something that makes me feel real…as if I'm all here…", the words were in no way melodramatic; they were strangely fierce. It was less a confession of love than it was a declaration of war. He would have told Zoro he hated him in the same tone. _

_Zoro had seemed to close his eyes in a sort of semi-relief. And he had nodded; but that was all. _

"_So…what? Are we going to sneak around?", Sanji was looking at him, waiting for an answer._

_The mosshead had nodded again, slowly this time. Sanji could tell that he had accepted what Sanji was saying as true-and the reality that in order for whatever they had to continue, the two of them would have to face certain truths, starting now. Zoro had said, "Look-Sanji-I'm not going to lie to you-I can't afford to be seen with you. Who I am-who you are-and what we are…it would never work; we'd end up in so much shit, it wouldn't even be funny. Not only did we come out of the goddamn closet, we came out of the fucking house."_

"_I know. Don't you think I don't know that?", Sanji had muttered, exasperated._

"_Then what?", Zoro said, and Sanji was a little irritated to find that his soon-to-be lover was a trifle bored with all the talk. _

"_Pay attention shithead!"_

"_What? No matter how much we talk and complain, and bitch, things aren't going to change. You should know that.", and to Sanji's further annoyance, Zoro was looking at him_ _as though he was wondering how he'd taste._

"_Yeah, but we might improve our situation!", he had cried, exasperated. Zoro had licked his lips and Sanji knew that he had just been stripped, glazed with honey, and eaten, in whatever passed for the sorry excuse of Zoro's mind._

"_I have an idea." Zoro had volunteered._

"_Thank God! The man sees reason!", he had exclaimed, foolishly thinking that Zoro would ever be helpful. _

"_Let's make out."_

That had been the end of that. Sanji had thrown up his hands and conceded with Zoro's bright idea.

As for the other aspects in his life, all of which seemed rather lackluster and secondary in comparison with his love affair, Sanji considered himself well along. The Baratie was thriving as it always was. Zeff and the other shit-cooks were on top of things in the running of the huge restaurant, and often, Sanji found himself with enough time to experiment, to create new dishes in the kitchens, as he was now.

As for Nami…he had talked with her, tried being there for her as a friend, never going further. He would not play with her again. Or lead her on. That story has written its last chapter.

"Hey Sanji. Making more pastries?"

Sanji looked up, smiling, and saw one of the cooks, Carne walking through the kitchen, presumably on his way home, judging from his switch to a suit from his cook's whites. "Yeah, got free time. I like doing this…it's like meditating."

"Meditating? Why? Got a lot of stress on your life right now?"

Sanji laughed, "No, quite the opposite really…I've never been better!"

Carne grinned good-naturedly, "That's good…", he leaned forward and snatched one of the crescent-shaped pastries and popped it into his mouth, almost immediately spitting it out again, "Damn! But is this sweet!"

"That's how it's supposed to be.", Sanji glared and continued his work.

"I'm surprised, you're more of a spice guy than a sugar guy; it's your style. What happened?", e knew a cook's style was his spirit. Carne finished eating the pastry, not wanting to, but knowing what would happen to him if he even dared to toss it into the trash.

"Shut up shitty cook. I'm just trying new things. Got a problem?", Sanji leveled him with a death-stare.

"Nah. Do what you gotta do.", Carne shrugged and headed out after a, "See ya tomorrow Sanji, get some sleep."

Sanji just hmm-mmed in agreement.

And All Blue? All Blue was out there. He was sure of it. Zoro confirmed it.

Éclairs. Crepes. Brownies. Cookies. Mousse.

~0~

"Zoro."

He was looking out the window, thinking, daydreaming.

"Earth to Zoro."

He was meeting Sanji tonight. Sanji had agreed to pick him up and they would spend most of the night in his midnight blue luxury Lexus at some deserted make-out spot.

"Calling green-haired idiot swordsman."

Zoro finally registered the voice and turned around, "Huh?"

Ace was leaning against the windowsill of the window he had been previously staring out of, looking amused, "I was calling you for the longest time and you just kept on staring out, zoning. You on something?" They were at his house. Luffy, Brooke, Franky, and Usopp were somewhere around, eating and playing video games.

_Yes. Yes, I actually am if you think about it.. It's the most addictive drug known to mankind, ya gotta try it Ace, I call it Sanj-juana. _Zoro shook his head, "No…I was just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts?", Ace slid down the wall until he was seated. And Zoro was momentarily surprised to realize that it had been quite a long time since he had actually held a real, sincere conversation with his best friend. Too long. He said as much to Ace, "You know, it's been a while since we talked."

Ace smiled and shrugged, "Don't kill yourself over it…I've been really busy too, with all the shit that's coming down lately." And it was true. Zoro noted the tired, almost weary look that was new to his friend's face, the creased lines in his smooth forehead.

"Forget that. How've you been, Ace?", Zoro said warmly, clapping the freckled man on the shoulder, and tried to put thoughts of Sanji aside for a while. Just for a while.

"You know. Been around. Blackbeard's been giving me more important things to do lately; maybe he trusts me more?"

Zoro shrugged uneasily, remembering what Kohza had told him weeks ago, "I trust Blackbeard as far as I can throw him, and the man weighs more than 500 pounds. I wouldn't put too much weight on whatever he's doing."

"Yeah, I guess you're right…I just like to be optimistic I guess.", Ace smiled.

"Be careful."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. Ace broke it after a while; "But what about you Zoro? How's been you?"

"Great."

"How's your little bet going?"

Zoro shifted uneasily, "Nothing much." The less he said, the better.

Ace sighed and rubbed his temples, "Look, Zoro. I see how much time you're spending with him…If you want, I can call off the bet. That way, neither of us loses. And you don't have to waste so much time _and_ lose your bike.", he shrugged, "Looking back, it was a stupid bet anyway. And we'll need everybody ready for when the new police transfers in." His eyes were friendly.

Zoro closed his eyes briefly, how much he had wished for this moment in the beginning. Now, it would only be inconvenient to not have the veneer of the bet to protect him. It was his only excuse, and he clung to it grimly. "No-o-o-o. I think I'm almost there. And I can use five hundred sweets. Thinking of backing down already? I'm surprised Portgas. "

Ace laughed, "Well, if you still want to, I'm game. I wouldn't mind a Harley myself. Just don't come bitching at me when you need a ride. Don't say I didn't warn your sorry ass."

"Yeah. Keep on telling yourself that."

"Hey, you want to hang out today? Go out, rave, bang a couple dozen chicks a piece? Just like old times?", Ace looked hopeful.

"Can't.", Zoro said, "I need to go visit some cousins this afternoon." He was a little regretful, but Sanji came first. He could hang out with Ace anytime, but his moments with Sanji were too limited to blow off.

"Yeah? That's fine, then.", Ace shrugged, he looked disappointed, but that was all. "Hit me up over the weekend then, we'll go get a beer from Robin, catch a game of football. Old times."

"Of course.", Zoro paused thoughtfully, "You know what Ace?"

"Hmm?"

"You're too good to me, you know. I don't deserve you man."

"Yeah, I'm too good for you. I seriously don't know why I put up with such an utter retard on a daily basis."

"Harsh."

Ace stood up and gave him a rough hug, "I'm always here for you man, don't ever forget it. Always."

"Thanks, Ace. It goes both ways.", Zoro felt his throat tighten momentarily, it had been a long time since they had ever spoken like this. He contemplated briefly telling Ace everything. _Hey Ace, I'm glad you're still there for me especially 'cuz I fell in love with the guy you wanted me to bang for a little fun and we're currently in a clandestine gay relationship that defies all and any social conventions. _"It goes both ways," he repeated, instead.

"Well, I'm glad we got that settled", Ace stepped back and turned, "I gotta put an egg in my shoe and beat it. Things to do and people to fuck up."

"You've grown up, kid.", Zoro told him, warmly. It was true. When it had happened, who knew? He had been disconnected from the usual flow of things since Sanji Blackleg had walked past him all those weeks ago.

"No.", Ace said simply, he didn't turn around, "You're wrong."

Zoro just shrugged and waved his hand. "Get out of here then Firefist." He saw Ace's smile in the dark reflection of a mirror, the wide brim of his trippy hat obscured his eyes.

Even before he heard the sound of Ace's borrowed car disappear, his thoughts were back on Sanji.

That was the way his new life's thoughts ran: Wake up in the morning. Sanji. Train. Sanji. Eat. Sanji. Train. Train. Sanji. Meet friends. Sanji. Sanji. Shower. Sanji. Eat. Sanji. School. Sanji. Gang. Sanji. Sleep. Sanji…Sanji….Sanji.

Everything else seemed to run in terms of Sanji.

To see him daily at school and to not be able to touch him was agony. To see those lips and to not be able to kiss them hurt more than he thought it would have. To see those hips and to not be able to hold them filled him with an emptiness he couldn't explain. To see that blonde hair and to not be able to run his hands through it and to twist his fingers through the strands….He could only watch from afar.

Zoro would pass part of the time wondering when Sanji would finally calm down and allow him to make love to him. This was something Zoro really _really_ wanted to do. If it was as hot as he thought it would be, the sooner it happened the better. For both of them. And to have that kind of bond with his Sanji would be so utterly fulfilling in a way nothing else could ever be. It would give a seriousness and maturity to their love; it would confirm to his Sanji just how much he loved him.

He knew Sanji might have some qualms about having sex, as he wasn't so experienced. And so, instead of the dreams of fucking the cook roughly into submission that used to dance around his head, Zoro would lose himself into fantasies of making deep, slow, sweet love to him.

Of gently lying Sanji down in the large, velvet-covered bed of his and lovingly spreading long, muscular legs, of entering him so slowly that it wouldn't hurt his love, entering so slowly into what he was sure would be like heaven. And his love would be long, protective strokes that both reassured the man he was in and that gave him pleasure that no one else had been able to before.

Though Zoro would be a liar to say that he had given up on the hope of having rough, kinky, wild sex all night and all day with Sanji Blackleg. It just was that he wasn't too insensitive to want their first time to be unromantic. Their first time. How weird that sounded in Zoro's head. It was as if by magic, he had been handed his virginity back. And this time, he would make sure to make it as amazing as possible, for him and for Sanji as well.

All this and more he had hinted to Sanji; but the blonde cook was refusing to contemplate ideas of sexual liaison between them thus far. Though the man sure hadn't complained when Zoro had hauled him onto his lap, slipped his pants down, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and jacket, and gave him a rough and dirty handjob two nights ago.

…Unless greedy cries for more and a further seductive spreading of hips translated to complaints in Sanji-speak.

Zoro grinned nostalgically, remembering their first clumsy attempts at handjobs. It had been weird. Hot, but weird. Nothing in his life had been so difficult-every nerve in his body was recoiling instinctively backward, at the same time that every fiber of his heart and groin urged him forward. He was on tenterhooks, lest he do something wrong, something that would freak Sanji out…or hurt him. Kissing and caressing Sanji had been fine; he had done the same with countless hordes of girls millions of times before. But handling a dick, _correction,_ another guy's dick…he didn't have any work experience in that particular arena of life…

They had gotten better. Or rather, _he_ had gotten better at giving them and Sanji had gotten better at receiving them with a minimum of discomfort. Sanji still hadn't touched his dick, except for some through-the-pants fondling that always left Zoro sweaty and frustrated, needing more.

_You're a goddamn teaser, love-cook_, he had whispered into Sanji's ear one time, a soft accusation, after Sanji had made him come with his teasing fingers and oddly-prim hands. Zoro had muttered it, a bit resentfully, because his climax had been choked, barely reached, a cheated orgasm that had left him frustrated and tired. But still he hugged Sanji tight.

Sanji had frowned, no doubt feeling a direct challenge to his sexual prowess- _I'm trying you know, For a guy like you, it's easier. But at least I'm fucking trying…_

_I know….that's why I'm holding you, _And he would whisper into Sanji's ear those pretty little clichés which he loved to say and which Sanji loved to hear though the cook would never admit it and which sounded stupid and unoriginal if repeated anywhere else then the dark and sweaty confines of a used bed. Those corny lines which he wouldn't be caught dead saying anywhere else, to anyone else.

~0~

Kissing again.

In Sanji's car, just like he thought he would be. The world had faded away again and they were left at the high-tide of their emotions, emotions which were months old but which seemed new every time they reconnected. He was barely in the car before their hands and mouths were on each other, desperately; heating them considerably. The car doors shut with a soft click, only seconds after.

Parked somewhere, sometime. He had jogged to the meeting place. Setting out a good handful of hours before, knowing he would get lost. He still got there ten minutes late.

It seemed like he was barely in the backseat before his hands found the black tie, pulling it in for a kiss.

"Hi…", he breathed, their lips tickling each other. He didn't let go of the tie. It was his now.

"Bastard. You're late. I've been waiting here for forever.", Sanji replied, not really annoyed. Damn, no matter how many times it happened, he would never get used to Zoro's rough and open kisses. They always left him feeling…broken, greedy. Emotions that weren't himself; but at the same time were. Because they were him at his most dirtiest, most aroused. He shuddered.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting…But, look…I'll make it up to you….", Zoro pulled him in again.

Sanji felt a moment of '_fuck…he's using that soft voice again' _ before Zoro had pressed him up to the car door and was sliding his hands under his suit jacket. For it hadn't been long before Sanji had made the discovery that the gentler and more softly Zoro talked right before they started making out, the more rougher and dirty he got with his hands and lips.

And right now, Zoro was being so sweet, Sanji's teeth ached.

This was bad. It was like a ten on the Zoro-Richter scale. Maybe Zoro was buttering him up because he had decided that today was the day to finally fuck him! Alarm bells rang in Sanji's head, "Zoro-"

"Shhh…", a warm tongue licked his lips hungrily. "Don't you want me to make it up to you? I kept you waiting so long…" When had Zoro managed to unbutton his shirt? Unbutton his shirt and slip his hand in to pinch his-

_Ugggh…ahhhh, God…he knows I love it when he does that…goddamn him…he knows_. _He knows!_

"And just _how _do you plan on 'making it up to me'?", Sanji demanded, struggling not to melt, and shrugging out of his shirt since Zoro obviously wanted it off, for better nipple-access no doubt. And really, just who was he to stop him?

"Like this, Sanji.", and Zoro simultaneously gripped the pants of his crotch and rubbed, and leaned forward, ducking his head to suck hard on his already-hardening nipple.

"Mmmmm…yeah, that works…", Sanji groaned as he rode the waves of bliss and sublimity. "At this rate, I'm gonna get hard-". He didn't know if it was an invitation or a warning. Or both at once. Or none at all. His five senses had been effectively thrown to the four winds and all he could hang on to was the eager touches of Zoro and an odd snatch of a song which swirled around his head endlessly, '…exchanging heat in the passenger seat…'

Zoro passed his tongue slowly over Sanji's nipple, knowing Sanji's weaknesses. And sliding his hand up and down slowly in the dark, Y-shape of Sanji's pants, caressing the clothes outline of Sanji's sex, he said, "What? You're not already…?" It came out sounding cool and right, just like he wanted it to-like mock outrage; but he wondered if Sanji could hear that embarrassing note of pleading and unrestrained want that he himself could hear.

"Make me last...", Sanji sighed, signaling his surrender by throwing his head back and encouraging Zoro's head back down to his wet bud, by bumping his hips gently in time to Zoro's hand in mute need. His surrender, not to Zoro; but to himself. An abandonment into his own wishes of sensuousness and unrestrained carnality.

"I love you", Zoro murmured protectively. He kissed Sanji's hair as an afterthought.

~0~

Sweat quickly formed between the heat of their intimacy and the condensation gathered quietly on the windowpanes as their aroused emotions manifested themselves physically. The bluish-orange light of the dying afternoon was the only light source available; and fine lines quickly faded into a sensual haze.

Sanji seeking a more comfortable position, luxuriously spread himself out as much he could on the sheepskin-lined seats, pushing Zoro off briefly, only to stretch out his arms in hungry invitation. He only had his tight dark designer dress pants on by now; and he looked as desirous as Zoro had ever seen him. Sweaty and powerful; beautiful and handsome; everything he had ever wanted in a woman; and everything that a man could offer. It was achingly addictive.

Zoro crawled halfway on top of his cook, and Sanji arched his back enthusiastically as Zoro lathered his other nipple with his tongue, alternating hard sucks with gentle licks; as he was sure that the blonde liked it. Sanji settled with cupping the green hair possessively; his fingers intertwined harshly in Zoro's short green fuzz; eagerly encouraging the ravishing caresses.

Zoro eventually found his way back up to Sanji's waiting mouth; stopping only to suck the edge of his cook's gently protruding collarbone and to lick up and down the sensual flesh of the throat before he clasped his trembling lips on Sanji's expectantly, who welcomed him in with a wet and inviting tongue.

And then; Sanji felt an eye-watering, gorgeous flash of pleasure rocket through him; and he let out a long and heated moan right into Zoro's mouth before he remembered that it was coming from the accidental shift of their hardened erections slipping against each other. It had taken a bit to get to used to this part of their intimacy, but it had been undeniably worth it.

Zoro was also looking completely aroused; and he wasted no time in grinding roughly against Sanji, thrusting himself against the erection beneath him again and again-eliciting more low cries and moans from them both. Rubbing and rotating and humping all the while Sanji bucked and slid his lower body deliciously upward. They were so completely all over each other that Sanji could feel the heat and hardness of Zoro's cock sliding up his thigh, pressing against his naval. And then Zoro all but collapsed on his cook underneath him, causing more gasps and pants of pure pleasure as the bulges in their jeans kissed again.

"Zoro-", Sanji hissed in approval, before the other man began kissing him again; and he was a little surprised and annoyed that Zoro had stopped those movements which produced such amazing sensations and that he found himself longing for their return; he could still clearly feel Zoro's cock rotating around and rubbing his own. The thought alone made him throb unmercifully. And he dry-humped upward, roughly and insistently, demanding the return of that grinding which made him want to throw back his head and scream Zoro's name. Sanji had an idea that that would really turn Zoro on; and he _wanted_ his little mosshead swordsman as raging hard as possible. For him. Because of him.

And suddenly, he could feel the rough, insistent hands working at the belt and jeans he had thrown on before leaving his house. And just as suddenly, before he was even aware of it, Sanji could feel his hands eagerly responding, helping Zoro work off the constraining material, without even stopping kissing; their mouths continued to work messily against each other. Zoro's tongue met his familiarly; challenging, teasing, submitting himself utterly.

Sanji could feel the satiny material of his black jeans as they were sliding down his hips and still he made no move to stop it. Instead he continued to wriggle himself underneath Zoro to ease their removal; at the same time swirling his tongue inside the mouth on his to demonstrate his appreciation. He only gave a heady groan as they slipped over his blood-filled penis.

They were sliding past his knees and all Sanji felt like doing was using his own hands to slide across the sweat on the glistening back on top of him and into Zoro's own jeans in order to trace the delicate curves of his ass and scratch the round globes lightly with the tips of his fingernails. Sanji felt rather than heard the vibrations of Zoro moaning as he cupped and squeezed each of his swordsman's cheeks. "Nice ass.", he murmured casually. "How do you get it so..hmm…firm?" He punctuated it two teasing pinches.

"Shut up,", was the loving reply.

Sanji just chuckled, a little out of breath, he had just been kidding, after all. And all the time, he was exposed and not exposed; he was almost naked, yet Zoro covered him with his own body. His jeans were puddled near his ankles, and Zoro was struggling to get them all the way off without abandoning the dance of their sore tongues intermingling.

And finally they were off and thrown, discarded, into a far corner and Sanji could feel the denim on top so clearly on his bare skin; he gloried in his full nudity underneath Zoro. And still, there were familiar hands grasping his hips, waiting. Zoro stilled his lips, and his mouth hovered above Sanji's hungrily, "Can I?", he heard Zoro murmur questioningly, the pants of hot air seared his sensitive lips. And he nodded even as he felt the fingers ghost lightly, longingly over his exposed head and his hips bucked up unconsciously into Zoro's waiting hand.

Zoro lifted himself off of him and sat back on his haunches to survey his work. Sanji felt the blood rise in his cheeks as Zoro's eyes roamed unashamedly over him and blatantly admired his reddened, dripping cock. It was the first time he ever felt like one the luxurious delicacies he served at the Baratie; "I feel like a porn star.", he joked, a little nervously, to dispel some of that nearly overwhelming sexual tension which was so thick he believed he could have cut it with one of his beloved kitchen knives.

It was the first time he had been completely naked in front of Zoro. Sanji briefly wondered if he was about to lose the virginity of his pure, unsullied ass in the backseat of his own Lexus.

"You're hot enough to be one.", Zoro said honestly; as he drank in and virtually memorized the truly pornographic sight of his Sanji, as naked as the day he was born, stretched out on a sheepskin-lined seat, the tousled hair, the pink and kissable lips, the perky and abused nipples, the washboard flat six-pack, the sensual curves of the hips and the admirably long lines of the legs; none of these worthy attributes were too small or insignificant to escape Zoro's nearly predatory gaze.

Sanji casually crossed him arms behind his head and smiled slowly, his lips unconsciously searching for the all-too-familiar feel of a butt, rolling lazily, in his mouth. Putting aside the instinctively squeamish emotions of being stripped and molested visually, Sanji thought he was doing pretty well, actually. He kind of liked being so roughly handled, of being so ardently admired and of being so passionately lusted after. Kind of liked? _Loved_. "Planning to do anything soon?", he asked, layering his sarcasm with a hint of seductive invitation. He _was_ curious, after all.

"Planning on making you come…you said you wanted to last, didn't you?-", Zoro said, he reached forward and slowly grasped the shaft of Sanji's dick, his eyes gazing all the while into Sanji's, and he slid his palm, slick with sweat, slowly and carefully back and forth across the erect and blood-filled penis. The look of studious concentration on his little mosshead's face caused Sanji to let out a breathless shout of laughter, even though the pleasure coursed through him simultaneously, turning his laughter into something resembling a moan.

"You want to tell me what you find so fucking _funny_?", Zoro glared at him, the red rising rapidly in his brown cheeks, "This isn't as easy as it looks-" Damn it, he still was a little squeamish doing this. It was only his fifth or sixth time doing it, and fourth or third at least moderately successful attempt. Sanji didn't help either

"It's not fucking calculus, you adorable idiot. If you're having such a hard time jacking me off then _I'll_ show you how to do it,", Sanji was chuckling, still feeling utterly horny, and he batted Zoro's hand off his dick. He had a nice and hot idea to try out. And he was relaxed enough to be a bit of a kinky bastard. Zoro excellent expertise in sucking on nipples had that affect on people. It should be a health hazard. Hell, someone should report the man to the surgeon general.

Sanji raised himself up on one of his elbows and wrapped his own hand around his proud erection, "Watch me...", he breathed, and stroked himself experimentally before he began to masturbate in front of Zoro's eyes, slipping into that particular fantasy easily.

It was enough to go on, staring into Zoro's eyes and seeing the open greed with which the other man was watching him with; and with the fact that it was completely and utterly hot to masturbate while Zoro was watching him so lustfully. Sanji speeded up his hand, and began to rock his hips; spreading his legs to expose himself further and to make himself look even more sexually appetizing; and he felt himself coming already, had been so far along anyway, and he panted , "I'm thinking of you sucking me off Zoro…" This wasn't particularly true, but he felt it was lie to a good cause.

And before he knew it; his hand was unceremoniously knocked off; Sanji's subsequent yelp of indignation was cut off as he felt Zoro seize him and begin to pump his already coming cock harshly; his strokes were hard and fast; and they hurt, and Sanji hated to admit to himself that the pain felt absolutely glorious; and with each pass of Zoro's fisted hand, he cried out in pain and pleasure, in need and humiliation, at the rough, way he was being so utterly used.

"Zoro-ughh-AHH-yes-yes-ughh-_more_- Zoro-ahhghhhh-STOP-please, please-_Zoro_-", Sanji threw back his head again and cried and moaned and whimpered and begged as Zoro stopped his amazingly satisfactory grueling pace, wrapped his hand almost painfully tight around his burning, hardened cock and began to pump him agonizingly slow. "Zoro-stop-don't-do that-ughhgh-stop-please- Zoro- no more-no more-more, _more_, please, faster, _tighter_, touch me- Zoro-stop it-_stop teasing me_-" He would kill Zoro later for making him beg like this. For now, all he could do was writhe and twist in mute agony.

For Zoro's part, he was doing absolutely fine; it was so fucking hot; watching Sanji. First, seeing Sanji taking himself in his own hand and then this… Those sexy blue eyes of his were squeezed shut tightly in sexual agony as he willed Zoro to go faster. Arms splayed over his head, hands twitching. Lower, his hips and thighs were held down so that he couldn't thrust or move; his toes were curled tightly as pleasure was sent to the very tips of his body in rolling, pulsating waves. For someone not so experienced in the art of 'handjob-ing', he thought he was doing pretty good. Zoro gave himself a mental pat on the back and approval to experiment a little more with his cook.

Zoro loosened his grip on Sanji's thighs and hips and immediately was rewarded with Sanji dry-humping upward, desperately trying to thrust his arousal, slick with his leaking wetness already, into his hand. Zoro purposefully stopped his movements, forcing Sanji to lift his hips to meet his hand; and just leaned back and watched Sanji masturbate with his hand, his hips bucking erratically. Sanji had long since stopped making understandable noises.

" _Zoro!_", Sanji yelled, half _screamed_, as Zoro suddenly moved to meet Sanji's thrust and slid all the way up his impressive arousal, fingernails rasping the side softly, in a burning hot, tight blur, moving fast and hard, finally giving him what he wanted.

"_Zoro_, -ohhh- Zoro- Zoro- _Zorooooo_-", There was no doubt that he was coming fast. Or that he had abandoned all reservations and was moaning and crying his name over and over as orgasm overtook his consciousness, mixing it along with moans, curses, death threats and dirty talk in a delicious cocktail of poisoned honey which Zoro drank in greedily. Sanji had closed his eyes again and blonde hair hung damp with sweat, sticking to his head; his entire body was lustrous with sweat and saliva and traces of come; light bruises and bite marks in all the best places.

All his.

He abruptly ceased the movement of his hand.

Sanji's eyes flew open-ahh, that's what Zoro wanted-he wanted Sanji to see who was making him come, wanted Sanji to see his own dripping cock in Zoro's hand, wanted to know Sanji was thinking of him when he came, wanted Sanji to see his come splurting all over his hand, wanted Sanji to see him raise that same hand and slowly lick it off-

"Keep on going! What are you waiting _for_?", Sanji hoarsely cried, it seemed he didn't have enough strength to cry out any louder. And then he gave a startled grunt as he was abruptly flipped over, his weight crushing his arousal uncomfortably beneath him, "_Woah_, no-no-_no-No sex . Do NOT fuck me. I repeat-_do not fuck me_-_" He could _hear _Zoro smirking in that superior way he so hated.

"Relax, I'm not going to fuck you…yet. I just want to do something…you're not going to refuse me, after all I've done for you?", the tone was pure sweet evil. Sanji found himself at a loss for words.

The sound of a zipper opening in the silence was agonizing. The characteristic jingle of car keys and coins when jeans were being pulled down was expectantly excruciating.

Sanji squeezed his eyes shut, and his knuckles turned white as his hands curled into fists underneath him, as he tried to relax his tensed muscles which were so tightly wound, he thought they would break, and tried to still the runaway pounding of his heart. And he realized, a little wondrously, a little distantly, that he had accepted the idea that he was going to get fucked here, in the backseat of his car, regardless that Zoro had assured him otherwise.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Zoro placed his hands beside his body; and Sanji could feel the warm and smooth texture of Zoro's knees and inner thighs shifting along his upper thighs. The knowledge of what was where and what was near what, made his mind race to the inevitable conclusion, and he frantically tried to ready himself for what he was sure was going to be a painful intrusion.

But still, the first hot, stiff touches of Zoro's head rubbing the very top of his ass made him jerk and clench his muscles spasmodically. His panting speeded up, and Sanji vaguely wondered if hearts could shatter from excess stress.

"Stop breathing so hard, you're not running a frigging marathon.", Zoro sounded a little out of breath himself.

"Shut _up_. You're goddamn lucky that I'm letting you do this.", Sanji replied through gritted teeth, but he tried taking deep, slow breaths. _Breath in through the nose, breath out through the mouth…Count to ten backwards…Think of happy thoughts…puppies, flowers, beaches, cute little sheep…_

Sanji's shoulders tensed unconsciously as Zoro traced the cleft of his ass with his erection, shifting his lower body expertly. Sanji felt his stomach flip-flop when Zoro paused and nosed in the tip of his cock into his ass, using a hand to spread his cheeks, and then letting the flesh fall back to envelop his head. Sanji shuddered, feeling all kinds of strange, murky emotions at this invasion; and Zoro moaned softly at the vibration.

Zoro had never felt anything so tempting as Sanji's white curves, so enticing as the soft flesh. He felt a strange heat seem to envelop his crotch, diffuse throughout his thighs and rest in his belly. His whole body blushed and he never wanted anything in the world as much as plunging himself into Sanji. He could feel Sanji trembling slightly, and it made Zoro feel like he was going insane.

He pulled out and passed up one more time over his ass, rubbing his cock along the dark line and going so far as to rest his balls on Sanji's upper back. Sanji could feel the shape and weight, and his face reddened, even more. "Are you finished mosshead? 'Coz if you are, then I have a hard-on you owe me for.", he spat.

"Yeah, I think.", Zoro smiled, before he lifted himself off and flipped Sanji over again, and he closed his hand again on a hot length he was in love with already and didn't relent until Sanji came over his hand and not even then; without even bothering to clean up Sanji's orgasm off his hands, Zoro masturbated him again, not satisfied until Sanji came again in his hands. And then, making sure Sanji was watching him, he licked his hands clean.

~0~

"How'd I do?"

"Great…amazing…wonderful…", Sanji murmured sleepily; he hadn't moved for fifteen minutes, even though Zoro had subtly and not-so-subtly hinted that he would have liked the same treatment from the satiated blonde cook . Now, Sanji was curled up on the backseat, his jeans halfway back on, loose and still unzipped, hanging around his thighs where Zoro had attempted to replace them.

Zoro shook him, none-too-lightly, he was a little annoyed that Sanji hadn't done anything for him. He had had to take care of his own painfully hard erection by himself. It wasn't hard, considering all they had been up to, but still he would have liked to have had Sanji's hands on him. He shook Sanji again, "Shit-Cook."

"Wha.", Sanji shifted away, obviously trying bury himself in the seat cushions, away from sight. Zoro frowned, the cook was acting like he had just been raped.

"Idiot cook, we can't stay here. It's best we keep moving on.", Zoro said, he glanced out the window thoughtfully, "We can't push our luck too far, you know. We've been here what, two hours?"

"You didn't have to lick it up.", Sanji muttered, determinedly not turning around.

"I wanted to. You liked it. Don't lie."

"Yeah…but you're not…isn't that…too much?", Sanji's voice was muffled

Zoro scratched his head, thinking about it, "No, not really. I've been practicing."

Considering how he had previously been moping around, it was amazing how fast the cook moved.

Zoro found himself pressed up against the door, half-straddled, hands that looked like they'd be happy around his neck, strangling him, fisted in his shirt and an ominous, sinister look on the cook's face as he stared him down. "_Practicing how, exactly?_"

Zoro had to chuckle, "Jealous? Relax…on myself."

"I didn't know you were that flexible to give yourself head.", Sanji mused, looking relieved and a little envious.

"I don't suck _myself_. I mean, that I've been…tasting my own…getting used to the weird flavor.", Zoro looked calm, if he was embarrassed, it showed only slightly in the slight pauses.

"I taste weird?", Sanji looked offended.

"You taste like ambrosia. Nectar of the Gods.", Zoro smiled at him, hand wandering down to where Sanji still had his jeans around his thighs, and rested it casually on Sanji's exposed and relaxed dick.

"You're quite the shitty romantic-"

"But not as good as beer."

"Goddamn you."

~0~

"Zoro."

"What?" They were resting lightly against each other, limbs tangling, not wanting to leave the car and reenter the world outside.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck was that, your little kink right in the middle of hand-sex?", Sanji asked. He didn't demand, as he might have done earlier. Maybe it was because he was getting used to the idea of getting fucked.

"Oh, that? That's easy to explain. When a man and a woman love each other-Man. I mean _man_. When a man and a man love each other, they _make_ _love._" Zoro paused for effect. "I, unfortunately, fell in love with you, and so I want to _make love_ to you. In short brutal summary, 'Baby, let's fuck.' Just like the song says."

Sanji snorted laughter, "Only that last part sounded like you."

"That's 'coz you're too thick to understand the fine art of sarcasm….anyway, what do you think, though", Zoro persisted, not wanting to divert the subject, now that he had cornered Sanji into discussing it.

"Ehhhh…I guess we're going to do it, eventually?", Sanji said, deliberately vague.

"But when's 'eventually'?", Zoro moved slightly, using his hand to turn Sanji's face to his, squeezing his chin warningly, when the cook tried to twist out of the grip, "Don't string me along Sanji…If you don't want to, or if you don't plan to…at least tell me now so I can stop hoping."

"It's not like I _don't want to_.", Sanji snarled, pissed that Zoro was putting him in this position, the bad-guy position."Just let me ask you one little question. Judging from the little fantasy of yours that you just pulled, who was on top?"

Zoro's face did not give anything away, "Me."

"And who was on bottom?"

"You…", A dawning realization on Zoro's features, made Sanji want to kick his face in.

"Very good mossy! Now, don't get me wrong, I have no problem, no fucked-up self-esteem, _psychological _issue with being the guy who gets a cock up his ass. It's mutual, if done right. I _understand _that."

"Then?", Zoro couldn't say how much it relieved him to hear Sanji say that.

"Then? _Then_, do you know how much it's supposed to hurt? Pain I can take, I know. Normal pain. But _that_ sort of pain? I don't know…I mean, stretching, ripping, gouging, _pain_ as _something_ _huge_ impales you.", Sanji face was a horror show, and suggested that he was recalling the pinhole diameter of his anus. "I mean, it's basically the same thing as _giving birth_, something _huge_ going through something _small_. And my mom once told me that it hurts like _getting run over by a truck_."

Though Zoro never felt more like laughing in his life, he didn't, out of consideration to his blonde, "Sanji…I'm not modest or anything, but I'm not _huge_, I have a normal dick size. You sound like my dick is roughly the size of South America. "

"It might as well be…", was the morose answer.

"And also, it's not like it has to be rough the first times.", Zoro continued, feeling very much like a car salesman, "I can be gentle, sweet…I'll take care of you, Sanji. I wouldn't hurt you for anything."

"That's easy for you to say.", Sanji was definitely not willing to cooperate, he tried, again, unsuccessfully, to twist away his chin, to break that awful, tension-filled eye contact. Sanji closed his eyes, instead.

Zoro shook him lightly, "Open your eyes, I want to be looking into your eyes when I tell you this." When Sanji had compiled, he continued, "It _is _easy for me to say. You know why? Because I'm willing for it to go both ways. I don't mind if you want to fuck me. 'Coz the only thing better than making love to you, is you making love to _me_."

"That's…deep.", Sanji looked shaken. He dry-swallowed nervously. "But…no.", he nodded, more decidedly, " I don't want to fuck it up for you. You've had more…experience." It looked like he wanted to say more, but instead repeated, " I don't want to fuck it up."

"Well then, grow some balls and let me fuck you. Or-"

"_Fine._", Sanji emphasized, "Fine. You can do it. _But_-", he held up one finger, "Give me my time to get myself ready! All right?"

"Sure. Just don't take your sweet time, or I might dump you."

"Fuck you. I hope your _dick _breaks off inside of me."

~0~

Zoro hummed as he walked down one of the numerous dingy alleys in Water 7, in the direction of his house, the tune was happy. How could it not be? Getting to spend time with Sanji was what could make or break his day. He would travel the world to get a chance to kiss Sanji; it was no exaggeration.

Hiding his relationship with yon cook had been easier than he thought it would be, he had never been much of a party animal or a talker, and so his absence was not severely felt in Water 7. Though Ace had laughingly commented that he was sorely missed by the female population. As for gang business, he was there when he was needed. Which was more than can be said for some.

_At least I haven't heard anything more about Blackbeard being out to get me. Maybe that was all part of Kohza's fucked up imagination-_Zoro's thoughts broke off as he heard the clatter of approaching footsteps and cries. _Sounds like a mugging…or a hit_. His own feet sped up, hurrying to the scene of the commotion, lest it be one of his own, hands futilely grasping for sword hilts.

"Hey, the fucker came back to get us! _Just to get us!_", the outrage and high-pitched fear in the voice was unmistakable.

"'hell do you want! Goddamn you! Go 'way! We a'int done no one wrong! Get the fug' 'way from 'ere!"

"Govt'ment _dog_!", this was followed by a high ringing sound like steel and a scream.

Zoro was running now, he didn't recognize the voices, but some deep shit was definitely going down. Taking a sharp turn in the maze of alleyways of Water 7, he nearly stumbled right into the middle of what appeared to be a rather unpleasant scene.

Three men stood only a few inches in front of him, another lay crumpled in the corner, so close Zoro could have reached out and kicked him if he had wanted to. It was a much wider alleyway than the one he had just been walking, and the three men stood easily, shoulder-to-shoulder, with space between, holding out an assortment of weapons. Zoro quickly tallied them up-_two switchblades, one Colt .45 -_They were facing off a man who stood a few yards away, apparently unarmed.

"You 'appy you heartless bastard?", the one in the middle yelled, furious and scared, "You just killed Gin! Our second-in-command!"

_Gin? Isn't he-_

"Do ya' even _know_ who ya's messing wit'?", this came from the one on the right, the one closest to Zoro, "You're dead! The Don's gonna put out a hit on you, or he'll take ya down wit' his own bare 'ands!" This was accompanied by a barrage of agreements and insults.

Zoro stayed silent, hidden in the shadows cast by the flimsy fluorescent bulb hung up on the side of the alley wall, gauging the situation. It was clear now that these three men-four with Gin-were Kreig's guys. He didn't need the yellow bandanas to tell, the man on the floor with the bloodstained and ripped shirt was obviously Gin, from his Home Ec. class He had no obligation to protect them from the one guy on the other side. In truth, he should be leaving now, before he was noticed, he didn't need to be getting into more trouble. But Zoro continued to linger, drawn by the electricity of the scene.

"An' why the _fuck _ya gotta pick on us?Eh? Why'nt ya go take a flyin' fuck at Blackbeard or Kidd? Try someone ya own size! Why the 'ell us, _ehhh!_?"

"To pass the time.", the words were cultured, spoken in an educated drawl, clipped with a strange European accent. Zoro squinted his eyes to see the man better, but his face was covered by the rakish tilt of a large, ornate hat. His body, covered with a long black coat, was also a mystery.

"_Ta' pass the fuckin' time?_ _You fuckin' prick!", _the man in the middle finally pulled the trigger on his Colt. And Zoro could see the man pull what looked like a long metal rectangle from off his back with a rapidity almost impossible to believe. The sound of the bullet cracked through the air, followed by the sound of a ricochet whining shrilly. The window next to the man shattered.

And the cloaked man simply continued to hold out whatever he had pulled out.

The moon passed out from where it had hidden behind a cluster of dark rain-clouds; and the shine reflected along the length of the sword. But only for a second-for before the moon had passed from view once again, the man had sheathed it once more on his back. Zoro felt his heart lurch almost painfully, his breath caught harshly and it seemed his lungs had forgotten the mechanisms of breathing.

"Ya' missed dipshit!", the man on the right cried, "Yur' o'ly a coupa' feet 'way! 'An' ya hit the fucking windo'! 'ow could ya fucking _miss!_"

"The 'ell I did! Fuck you! I shot perfectly! Ya saw me!"

"He used the blade of his sword to tilt the direction of the bullet and reflect it away from him.", Zoro said clearly, finally stepping forward, into the light. _This has to be a dream…to meet him so soon-_

"That's bullshit!", the man in the middle cried, and after Zoro had walked past him, "Who the 'ell are you!"

"Hey! A'int it-"

"One of Blackbeard's, look, the bandana-"

"Fire-fist?"

"No-It isn't Ace, it's-"

"Fuck whoever it is-Let's get the 'ell _out_ of 'ere! Grab Gin-", the stumbling sounds of their flight and receding footsteps echoed in the alley.

Zoro ignored them, but continued to walk those few yards, each step feeling like a mile, his vision narrowing until all he saw was the cloaked form in front of him. Only stopping until he was sword-length away from the man. "First time I've seen a guy handle a sword so elegantly." He could feel his pulse, beating, beating…

_Oh Jesus Christ…he's here, he's here, he's here…Oh dear sweet Jesus…I have finally met him-_

He could feel the man measuring him, judging me, contemplating if he should be dignified with an answer; finally he spoke, Zoro could still only see his mouth, moving, "A sword that is only strong is not a sword at all." The words were guarded, ambiguous; a hidden challenge.

Zoro cut to the chase, abandoned the word games, "I've spent five years of my life looking for you…Juraquille "Hawk-Eyes" Mihawk!"

The face finally looked up, the brim lifted, and Zoro found himself pierced by burning yellow eyes. There was an unusual species of amusement in their carnivorous gaze as they looked him up and down. Zoro steeled himself, lifting his head, letting the look be an inspection, not a rape.

"What do you want?", the words whipped out, suddenly.

"What everyone wants…To be the best." The raw spirit in his voice was unnerving. A casual observer would have had trouble understanding, but he two men knew exactly what was happening.

The cloaked man snorted laughter, "Idiot."

Zoro grinned back, his hands already tying the black bandana around his head, "You have extra time, no? Care to have a duel?"

"You're one of Teach's men, are you not?", the yellow eyes looked at the bandana in faint contempt, "Are you trying to gain fame in his name?"

"No. This is for me. And my bandana's been with me for years. I have to ask you to not look at it like that.", he was polite.

The man ignored him, "And how exactly are you planning in dueling me? You're not carrying anything yourself."

"Give me ten minutes."

Annoyance mixed with disgust flitted across the man's face, his yellow eyes darkened to gold, "How unprepared are you? Yet you come in range to my attack and demand a duel? Duel? What a pathetic figure. If you were a true swordsman then you would immediately know the difference between our skill and power without even opening your mouth or drawing your sword." He paused, drawing near, and it seemed his anger had faded, and amusement was back ,"Have a duel with me? Are you that brave? Or simply stupid?"

Zoro gritted his teeth, his hands, aching for the solidity of a sword hilt, clenched into fists, "This is for my ambition. For a promise made long ago to a dead friend." He was unsure if he was talking to the man, or to himself.

There were a few seconds of silence, in which worlds seemed to tilt and veer around his head and then Juraquille Mihawk turned around, casually sitting down on an unused crate, he said coldly, "Ten minutes."

~0~

"Ace-Ace goddamn it-answer your fucking cell phone-", Zoro hissed into his own cellular, listening to the continuous ringing was going to drive him insane.

_-Heya sexy…-_the sultry voice of his friend slipped into his ear seductively-_I'm sorry to have missed your call…I was ahhh…a little bit-oh, fuck yeah baby-busy…_-the sound of a moan-_If you want to fuck then leave your message after the beep…if you want anything else….just hang up the goddamn phone already-'coz I can't talk right now-_the sound of exaggerated wet sucking and Ace's moans. –BEEP-

"Ace- it's Zoro, and I don't want to fuck, and I need your help. Answer the phone, call me back-"

"Hello? Zoro? What's up?" The voice was strange, it sounded like Ace, and at the same time, didn't.

"Ace-I need your help _bad_-", Zoro urgently began, "You won't-"

"Wait, Zoro? Ace isn't here-he's with some girl."

"Then who-_Luffy?_ How come you have Ace's phone?"

"I was looking through his pants' pockets for meat!", came the cheerful voice of the strawhat.

"What! Why the hell would Ace keep meat in his pocket? What the hell goes on inside your head Luffy? No, don't answer me! ", Zoro yelled, pounding his fist against a nearby wall in frustration, _what_ a time for Ace to leave his phone discarded, "Why do you have Ace's pants though?"

"He left them on the floor before he left with that girl!", Luffy chirped, "I guess he didn't need them! Or maybe the girl didn't like the pattern? She's the one who took them off!"

Zoro groaned, "Luffy, stop already…I can see where this is going. Okay, talk to you later-", he was about to hang up and call Robin. Asking Luffy to do anything coordinated would end in disaster. But then a new voice drilled in his ear:

"Zoro?"

"Yeah?"

"It's me, Usopp. Do you need help?"

"Yes.", he replied immediately, deciding in a millisecond to trust in Usopp's ability to come through in a pinch. He briefly summarized the events. "My swords. Get me them. I'm near…", he paused, floundering.

"In the alleyway created by Eichiro Street and Oda Road.", the exotic drawl commented from behind him.

Zoro repeated the information to Usopp, nodding in thanks to the still profile of the man behind him. "But where are you Usopp? At Luffy's? It'll take too long-"

"No, we're at mine. Your place is only a minute from here. And you're only about five minutes from your place. It'll take me..um…seven minutes to get there. That good?"

"If you can get here under ten, then I'll kiss your fucking feet."

"Should I bring my eight thousand men? Or-"

Zoro hung up.

~0~

Usopp arrived in a small junky car five minutes later, carrying his three katanas and a rubbery bundle, vaguely human.

"You just had to bring that along, did you?", Zoro asked, taking the sheaths, not taking his eyes off of the still seated figure of Mihawk.

"He wanted to come along. Luffy-wake up! Is-Is that _him_?", Usopp began to tremble dramatically, more for show than actual fear, probably.

"Hmm-We there yet, Usopp?", Luffy muttered, "Meat.."

"We're there idiot! Wake up! We're all gonna get killed because Zoro was cruel and heartless enough to get us to do his dirty deeds!", Usopp covered his eyes with his hands, faking sobs.

"Gahh! Zoro! Where's Mihawk! I'll kick his ass!", Luffy roared, throwing his hands in the air and pumping his fists, "Then I'll take his _meat_ and _eat_ it!"

"That's your answer to everything idiot! Go back to sleep!", Usopp cried, dragging him to a safe distance away.

Zoro had been ignoring them, watching Mihawk, "You guys-leave. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.", he clipped the katanas to the special holder he had created for them and slowly unsheathed them.

His right hand. Sandai Kitetsu.

His left hand. Yubashiri

His mouth. Wadou Ichimonji.

_One world. 36 desires. One world. 16 spiritual Elements. _Zoro breathed in and out rhythmatically, clearing his mind of everything and leaving it crystal clear, prepared to fight to the end.

"Okay-then-I'll-see-you-later-", Usopp stammered, turning, prepared to run at 345/mph in the opposite direction.

"No! Usopp, stay here!", Luffy yelled, his hand shot out and snagged the shapshooter's overalls, his face had turned serious, the usual boyish charm absent. His eyes were older, more aware.

"But…", Usopp trailed off, knowing it was a lost cause.

"We'll stay until it's finished.", Luffy said quietly, he turned to watch the proceedings. "Zoro might need us."

Zoro was in his stance, he motioned to Mihawk that he was ready. Mihawk took his time to leisurely stand up, he took in Zoro's three-sword-style thoughtfully and seemed to laugh to himself. Zoro ignored him, he continued to clear his mind of everything. Gangs, Blackbeard, Shichibukai, Supernova, CP9, Water 7, Eneis Lobby, East Blue High, Ace, Robin, Usopp and Luffy behind him. All faded from sight.

Even Sanji. Zoro held up his memory for a second. How his hair had looked, wet and plastered to his head, when he swam in the lake. The eyebrow. The coffin nail in his mouth. He treasured it secretly, one last time, before he folded it up and put it away.

He was ready. All that was needed was for Mihawk to draw out the huge black blade he carried and the duel would begin. For better or worse.

Zoro watched quietly as Mihawk reached up to a large crucifix he carried around his neck and pulled it at, to his surprise, it broke, and a short knife slid out of it. And to his growing surprise and anger, Mihawk pointed it at him, signaling the commencement of the duel.

"Oi. What the hell does that mean?", he said quietly. Zoro could feel his blood burning in humiliation. Mihawk was planning to fight him with a toy! Was he even planning to fight seriously?

"I don't need to use a cannon to kill a rabbit. I can fight you just fine with this. Though it might seem that you have some skill and reputation in swordsmanship, the Grand Line is only a tiny part of the real world. You have never gone outside its boundaries, and thus, do not know anything of the real world.", he paused and issued a sigh of regret, "Unfortunately, I have nothing smaller than this."

"_Don't fuck with me!_", Zoro bit down on the sword in his mouth in rage, tiny shards flew up, "Don't bitch about it when you're dead!" And he was running, closing the distance, swords lethally poised.

"I cannot help it if you are a naïve child, still. You want to be the greatest, yet you do not look afar into the world.", Mihawk said calmly.

Zoro let out a harsh scream as he bore his three blades down on the man, fully intending to decapitate, disembowel, and castrate all at the same time.

He had never thought he could have been stopped.

The blade of Mihawk's knife, maybe two, three inches long, was holding the combined pressure of his three swords at the juncture where they met.

_What? I can't move! At all! I'm using all my power, and I can't even move an inch!_

He heard Luffy cry his name and Usopp scream shrilly. He strained against the obstacle, his muscles quivered and jumped. Cold sweat rolled off his back.

_This can't be happening! Oh, fuck! Is he this strong? This can't be happening! _

Zoro brought back his blades and thrust again, the disbelief and anger in his mind surging, "_The world can't be this far away!"_ He was unaware he was screaming out loud.

No matter how many thrusts he gave, no matter how many cuts he made, no matter how quick or powerful he was; Mihawk parried each and every attack with his little knife. Calmly. As though he could have been drinking tea while he fought Zoro.

And then Zoro felt pain rip through him and he was flying, slamming into the alley wall before he knew it. The sword still gripped in his teeth.

"Zoro!" Usopp yelled, the fear in his voice evident, "What are you doing? Fight seriously! Please!"

He barely heard him, he was up and off the floor in seconds, "I can't be this far away.", he repeated to himself, quietly, before he was rushing the serene figure of Mihawk, screaming so that the walls of his throat ached and he couldn't hear himself anymore.

The clash sent vibrations through every bone in his body. He could feel the steel shaking in his hands and a line of fire flashed briefly as the blade heated with excessive friction.

"You have talent.", Mihawk commented, continuing to hold him off.

"I…_I haven't come this far to lose against a toy like this!"_, he hissed back, it was taking all his concentration, speed, and power to continue to match the knife's attacks. And still it seemed that Mihawk was taking it easy on him, holding back. _Goddamn him! Is he really-_

_Zoro! _Kuina's voice invaded his mind. How she looked before she had died.

It caused him to trip, he cut too far out and he was overbalancing before he knew it. Mihawk side-stepped and Zoro knew what was going to happen before it did. The excruciating pain as Mihawk dealt a heavy blow to the sensitive nerves in his neck caused his vision to fade to black for a few moments.

_The sound of ringing steel. The secret whoosh of swords twirling and twirling in the air._

_His own childish, high-pitched scream. _

_The slam of his body hitting the ground and the ring of a katana impaling the ground next to his ear. So close that the blade gathered condensation from the heat in his body. _

"_You're lucky…to be born a boy Zoro.", the sweet feminine voice of his greatest rival in those days, not Mihawk, but a small, blue-haired, flat-chested girl. He would never forget that voice, no matter how long he lived to be. _

_Anger and outrage, regret and bitterness under the full moon. Ending with a promise made. _

_A funeral procession in the rain. _

_The white sword he would carry in his mouth from then on, handed to him. _

The memories shuffled relentlessly.

Zoro swayed as his vision blurred and cleared, blurred and cleared. Mihawk's form stood there, still. _If I can only beat this man…_

He stumbled forward, meaning to attack, all he managed to do was raise his sword and let it fall, driven more by gravity then by his own force. It caused him to trip again, and fall. Zoro flipped himself on his back and panted heavily. He couldn't recall ever being so exhausted.

Mihawk was staring at him, a strange emotion on his features that Zoro was too tired to recognize or understand, "What do you want? Why are you after the greatest, weakling?"

He got up. It took every fiber of determination to put himself on his own two feet again, "I can not…lose."

A snatch of remembered conversation came unbidden to his mind.

_Zoro! You have to come with me when I head out to Somalia to be a pirate of the seas!_

_What? No! I told you that I wanted to beat Mihawk, that's my dream. Be the best. _

_Be the best, huh? Wow…that's great Zoro ,'coz since I'll be the Pirate King out there, anything less than the world's best swordsman on my ship would bring shame to my name!_

_There's no such thing as a Pirate King Luffy._

_There's no such thing as the World's greatest swordsman either!_

_Oi!_

_Everyone is counting on me. And if I don't beat Mihawk_…Zoro smiled around his sword, _how would I ever look Luffy in the face again?_

He rushed forward, an intense coldness enveloping him. He didn't even feel the knife plunge into the left side of his chest. Didn't feel the steel as it impaled him. His swords sagged unconsciously, and the thunder of his heartbeat filled his ears.

The blood dripped to the floor, red roses blooming in a dirty, abandoned alleyway.

Mihawk stared at him, "Do you want me to slice your heart? Why don't you step back?"

"I don't know. I don't even know myself.", Zoro said, he could feel the heavy, metallic tang of blood in his mouth as he talked, "But I think that, if I take a step back…then all the promises and vows I made would be useless…and I'd never be able to come back and challenge you." He knew, even before the words were out, that it was true.

"Yes. That's called 'losing'.", Mihawk said, and Zoro could have sworn he heard a smile in his words.

He laughed too, "Well, I guess that means I can't step back."

"Even if it means death?"

_You know my answer to that, _Zoro thought, but said, "Death is better." He heard Usopp groan.

Mihawk contemplated him for a second further, before pulling out the knife embedded in his chest, it went, dripping crimson, "Who are you?"

"Zoro Roronoa.", he brought up his swords.

"I'll remember it. It has been quite some time since I have seen someone like you." Mihawk reached up and pulled out the black blade he had used before, "As an honor, I will put an end to your life with my real sword. This Black Blade."

"I appreciate your offer.", Zoro answered, he readied himself. _This is my last chance. The world's best? Or death? I can have no regrets!_ He tightened his grip on the hilts.

Mihawk lunged at him, filling his mind, all sharp yellow eyes and swirling black cloak, long broadsword held out in a cutting angle.

The sound of his swords shattering was very loud in the silence.

Zoro dropped his arms, still carrying the now-broken swords, heavily to the ground. Only the white one, Wadou Ichimonji, had survived. He had a long horizontal slash, dripping fresh blood across his stomach and he could hear his friend panicking in the distance. But it didn't matter anymore. _I've lost. _

He took out the sword in his mouth and sheathed it. It didn't deserve to be splashed with his blood when he died. It had been a good sword to him.

_Losing was something I never thought possible. _

He turned around, still holding his sword. Neither did it deserve to be left abandoned on the ground.

_This is the greatest power in the world_.

Zoro stretched out his arms, hearing Usopp and Luffy draw in shocked breaths.

"What now?", Mihawk was poised to attack.

"Attacking from behind is dishonorable among swordsmen.", Zoro said, and smiled. It was something he had always believed. And here, even at the point of death, he would not abandon his principles.

Mihawk grinned, and Zoro was faintly surprised to realize that it was the first time he had seen the other man smile, "Well said."

And was a flash of black as Mihawk swung and cut him open. The squirt of his blood was beginning to sound very familiar.

He heard Luffy and Usopp scream his name and he knew he was dying.

Mihawk was saying something, he couldn't hear the words, but nevertheless, he understood, _Now is not your time to die. Become better. Become better, find your true self, discover the real world and become even stronger! No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you to fight again! Surpass my sword! Surpass me, Zoro Roronoa!_

With his last strength, he raised the sword he still carried, slipping it from its sheath even as the black invaded his vision, and made a silent oath, _I'll never lose again. I'll never lose anything again! Do you hear me, Luffy! Kuina? I'll never lose again! I'll never-_

Zoro kept that promise echoing in his head, taking it with him into the black depths of coma.

~0~

**Author's note: Sorry for not posting! Uh, yeah. I don't know what to put here anymore. But thanks to all you who reviewed! The fight with Mihawk…some of it is different, deal with it. Haha! Did you like this weird chapter! It's the longest yet. **

**And of course, couldn't have this without . :D**


	15. Love, Sex, and Desire

_**Chapter 15**_

Love, Sex, and Desire

No one ever told me when I was alone , they just thought I'd know better, better  
The hardest part, this troubled heart, has ever yet been through now  
Was heal the scars, that got their start, inside someone like you now  
For had I known, or I'd been shown, back when how long it'd take me  
To break the charms, that brought me harm, and all but would erase me  
I never won, or thought I could, no matter what you'd pay me  
Replay the part, you stole my heart, I should have known you're crazy  
If all I knew, was that with you I'd want someone to save me  
It'd be enough, but just my luck I fell in love and maybe  
All that I wanted was, now I know you better  
You know I know better, now I know you better  
So bittersweet, this tragedy, won't ask for absolution  
This melody, inside of me, still searches for solution  
A twist of faith, a change of heart, cures my infatuation  
A broken heart, provides the spark, for my determination  
No one ever told me when, I was alone, they just thought I'd know better, better

_-"Better", Guns n Roses _

He awoke to the quiet squeak of plastic shoes on the linoleum and the soothing murmurs of patients and doctors conversing together in low tones.

_Hospital. _

No surprise there, really. Usopp and Luffy must have brought him here after he had passed out. For now, however, the room was quiet. He was lying in a standard hospital bed, the screens were drawn, and thus, Zoro could barely make out the objects of furniture in the room. As for the corners of the room-they were lost in shadow.

_I lost._

There was no lapse of thought or moment of, 'and then suddenly it all came rushing back into him'. The rememberance was immediate, cruel; and the bitterness of defeat filled him.

_I'll have to get stronger. Then the next time I see him, I'll beat him. For now, though, I have to focus on my training more. I'm not good enough yet, damn it! _

Zoro clenched his fists angrily, not heeding the IV drips inserted into his wrists and passing under his clothes; the miniscule tubes and needles trembled minutely as he hectored himself feverishly, _Damn it all! What am I missing?_

He twisted himself to a more sitting position and shook off the white bedsheets, suddenly eager to see the scar Mihawk had so generously given him as a parting gift, but his chest was covered in bandages. He could feel the dull throb in his chest, that would no doubt, awaken, shrieking if he moved too much.

"I see you are finally awake."

Zoro jerked around; surprised. He hadn't seen the black form merging into the sofa on the left side of his bed, it had been partially obscured by the wide wings of the hospital bed and the IV monitor and support system. But there was undoublty someone there.

It was a tall man, slightly pale, with long, black, bushy hair, pulled into a ponytail at the back. He was wearing a black suit, so crispy it looked like the pants lines could cut, just like Sanji's. A tall black top-hat finished him off.

"…And you are?", Zoro asked shortly, almost rudely. Angry at being interrupted when he had been thinking, especially by a stranger who was invading his personal space.

"Roberto Lucchi. CP9. I'm sure you know both names.", the man said, and he brushed the lapels of his suit lazily.

"I do. Now get out, I'm busy.", Zoro snarled. _CP9._ What a time for the newest police forces to introduce themselves. When he was in a hospital bed and hooked up to a machine. Damn, if that didn't give the wrong impression. He had an idea to what they wanted-the scoop with Mihawk.

"You are just sitting in the bed.", Lucchi commented dryly. "I'm not here to arrest you or anything…though I easily could if I wanted. I just came by to have a look at you and maybe to exchange a few words. There's no need to be aggressive."

"I'm not in the best of moods as you can see and I don't feel like staring at your face any longer than I have to." Zoro paused, " I think both you and I know that we'll be seeing each other again very soon anyway.", he went on coldly, wishing fervently that he could stand up and physically remove Lucchi from the room. But the syringes were inside him, holding him back.

"I, too, think you are right. We'll be seeing each other soon. People like you and your friends have had their way too long. I'm just here to tell you that I'll be watching you very carefully.", Lucchi said softly, his manner was introspective, thoughtful. "The next time you fool around, I'll be there. And what's one more dead gangster to the people?"

Zoro grinned back, "Same goes bothways. I think you should watch yourself too, because next time I pass you on the street, I'm going to smash your fucking face in."

"We'll see."

Silence.

"If that's all you have to say, then I'd appreciate it if you'd get your ass out of here. 'Coz ya see, it's starting to smell."

"You passed a line yesterday, Roronoa. Attacking Mihawk. Are you trying to attack the government directly? Why are you targeting the Warlords? What does Blackbeard want?", Lucchi hadn't even blinked an eye at the insult. He seemed as if he had jyst been waiting for Zoro to say something so he could pounce.

"Like hell I'd tell you shit."

"You don't understand the situation you're in, Roronoa. Until yesterday, we weren't going to bother with you. After all, you were just an eighteen year old punk in high school…", Lucchi continued calmly, "But news has come to our ears that you attacked Mihwak-one of the cooperating forces of the police. You've turned quite a few people nervous…they wouldn't mind seeing you behind bars for the next ten years."

"There's a lot of people who'd want me somewhere safe; preferably in a room with padded walls and the kind of jacket you don't pick up in a department store. They can want all they want; wanting's free. Let's see them get me there."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Right. I got that. Now, get the _fuck_-"

"You have friends Roronoa?" Lucchi interrupted.

"…what does that have to do with anything?", Zoro asked quietly.

"Sure, everyone has friends", Lucchi continued thoughtfully, "…Have a sweetheart? A girlfriend, maybe?"

Zoro could feel a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach rise, knowing where this was going, "Sure, I got a couple hundred. I banged half of Water 7." _No one. I have no one special. Believe me, damn it! What do you know, you bastard?_

"Maybe you should think about them before you open your mouth again."

"You sick bastard.", Zoro hissed, "If I wasn't in this damn bed-"

"I'll ask you again-Why Mihawk? On whose orders? What does Blackbeard want? What is he planning on doing?"

"Fuck you.", Zoro's mind was racing, _My friends…Ace'll be fine, but Robin, Chopper, Kohza, Usopp, Brooke…they're not as strong as Ace…what is this bastard planning? Oh, Jesus, good fucking thing they don't know about Sanji-that no one knows about Sanji-_

"I see you do not wish to cooperate.", Lucchi said coldly, "Then we have nothing more to say to each other…except I advise you to keep good watch on all your little friends."

"Bastard…Is this how you're going to do things?", he snarled, "You're sick."

"I wouldn't be doing anything if you kept to the right side of the law. As soon as you rape the law, then you forfeit any of your rights to be protected by it. _That_ is justice.", Lucchi turned around and headed toward the door, lifting a hand as he slid out of the room, "Good-bye."

_Robin, Chopper, Kohza, Luffy, Usopp, Brooke, Paulie, Tileston, Lulu, Franky, Ace….Sanji?_

Zoro grit his teeth in impotent anger, his vision blurred suddenly, and the room rushed together and seemed to fold and then rip at the edges, letting in the black again.

~0~

The second time Zoro woke up, it was to the none-too-gentle proddings of someone poking and examining his chest. His eyes snapped open, remembrances of the dark and unsmiling Lucchi crowding the forefront of his mind, "Gahhh!"

"Hehehehe! Still alive, are we? We were taking bets if you were going to or not when you came in, you know!" It was not Lucchi, but an old lady so fucking ancient, that he wondered if she could be carbon-dated. Not only was that enough, but underneath her opened white doctor's coat, she was wearing a tight little t-shirt which hugged unnaturally perky breasts and showed off a flat, toned mid-riff that would have been the envy of many a much-younger woman.

Zoro tried not to look repulsed, "Oi, old lady-are you my doctor-" He took a quick look around; it was light now, the shades were thrown wide open and the sunlight came flooding in from the lighted corroder outside. Lucchi was nowhere in sight and Zoro briefly wondered if it had all been a twisted, perverse nightmare.

"What? The secret to my youthful appearance?", the old crone preened herself.

"Uhhh…no, I didn't ask you that. Are you my doctor?", Zoro repeated, thinking, _Why do I always have to get stuck with the weirdest people? And haven't I seen this chick before? Where…?_

"Who are you calling 'old lady'?", the old lady screeched and slammed a hand down on the nightstand near him.

Zoro jerked in surprise and hit his head on one of the bed's metal supports. "Ahh! The hell's wrong with you?"

"But, yes I am. Call me Dr. Kureha! Are ye happy?"

"What the fuck! Don't do that! That hurt, bitch!", Zoro yelled, rubbing his head, "And yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, to me it doesn't look like you're happy! Why'd you let yourself get this then?", Dr. Kureha seized the bedsheets covering him and ripped them off; it seemed like she had just removed his bandages while he had been passed out. Because the white cloth which had been wrapped around and around his body was gone.

Zoro's eyes widened just a tiniest bit as he saw the long, jagged line which slashed his body in two. Otherwise than that, the wound was clean, and the raised ridges of skin were immaculately brought together and stitched expertly. It wasn't as ugly as he thought it would be, but the fact that it was there hurt more than the actual pain he felt. And, between this and his life-he'd take the scar anytime.

"Stupid kid... What did you think you were doing?", Dr. Kureha asked softly from beside him, "You need to take care of your life, kid. It's the only one you've got."

"I lived, didn't I?", Zoro replied, still staring at the scar, "That's all the matters."

"Stupid kid…", was the answer, though there was no heat in it, "Well, now you're going to have that scar for the rest of your life. Unless you want us to remove the scar tissue with cosmetic surgery? There'd only be a thin line left-"

"No.", Zoro interrupted, "That's fine. I want to keep it."

"Hmmph. All right then.", Kureha grunted, and turned around to pick up a white clipboard, "I'll just brief you on your condition, then you have to talk with someone if you're feeling up to it, and then I'll leave you to rest."

"Talk to who?"

"I'll get to it. Be patient."

"Fine."

Kureha cleared her throat, "So, two days ago you were brought in by two kids, Luffy D. Monkey and Usopp Sogeking…Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, they were with me when…when it happened. Are they okay?"

"They're fine. We questioned them some to see what had happened, but they only gave us the basics, nothing more. They clammed up about the rest." Kureha gave him a searching look. "We gave the long nose a tranquilizer to calm him and a piece of ground beef to the other kid because he said he was hungry."

She continued, fixing her spectacles over the long nose, she herself possessed, "You had a massive slash across your chest-severed quite a few veins, punctured your visceral bag in a few places, nicked your , liver, gallbladder, spleen a bit, cut through a few ribs and nicked your lungs in a few places. Nothing too bad….the only thing that was an emergency was the massive amount of blood you lost."

"How am I right now, though?"

"Wait-Oh, yes before I forget. We called them and your parents came in yesterday to sign the papers to entrust your surgery and treatment to us. They were rather worried, but they said they had to go to some meeting or other, and they extend their sympathy, and the message, 'Tell him to be more careful.'"

"Jesus! I'm cut open and they leave the next day!", Zoro wasn't sure if he was hurt or amused.

"Ah, well, they didn't know the extent of the damage; I didn't tell them. They think you just broke a few bones."

"What the hell! Are you really a doctor?"

"Yes I am! You're rather rude, kid! Well, no use worrying them, if they're not prepared to care." Amusement flickered in her rheumy old eyes.

"Whatever…I'm covered right?"

"Yes, yes you are. Funny that you know more about your health insurance than your parents…they were completely unaware that you had insurance. Surprised, but grateful-they don't have to pay a dime for all this first-class treatment."

"I knew I was covered.", Zoro muttered, shifting his eyes away.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure you did…It's part of the bonus package that comes with Blackbeard these days, isn't it?"

"How the hell do you know about that? You sure as fuck did not get that from my blood."

"You're not the first poor guy from the slums who landed down here, in a hospital bed, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a color waving from his backpocket, but an amazing insurance policy on his head. I've been in the sawbones business for sixty-seventy years kid!", Kureha cackled.

"Huh. Yeah, I'm in Blackbeard's gang. Got a problem?"

"That's none of my business…Though I do have a question, kid."

"What?"

"Another kid like you ended up here yesterday…he wasn't as cut up as you, but he has the same cut across his chest-do you know anything about that?"

"Is his name Gin?"

"His name's Ginivere, if I remember correctly."

Zoro snickered, "Ginivere….He'll never live that down…Well, if he looks half black, half-Mexican; then yeah I know about him…He lived? Guys who were with him, said he'd died."

"Nah…what happened to him?"

"Same thing that happened to me."

"You kids are crazy nowadays…"

"So what happened after I got in?"

"We gave you an emergency transfusion, luckily, the boy with the strawhat was your blood type so he gave you a pint himself-we, stitched you up rather quickly, bandaged everything up as well we could and here you are." Kureha cackled shrilly, her laugh sounding suspiciously like a stereotypical witch's laugh.

"Luffy gave me blood?", Zoro repeated,, "That idiot…I would have been okay anyway…"

"What, the strawhat? Oh, yes, he was quite insistent that we treat you immediately and by the best doctor in the hospital! That idiot made such a fuss, that I was called to treat you! Well, anyway. You'll be fine to go in a few weeks, though you'll still be rather delicate for another couple months! So no strenuous exercise for the next 6 to 7 months, you hear?"

"What!", Zoro yelled, "_No training?"_

"You better listen to me, or you'll just end up hemorrhaging and you'll be back here in no time, kid."

"Two weeks, three weeks, I can stand, but six to seven months? You're out of your fucking mind, old lady!"

"Who are you calling old lady?" This was punctuated by a slap to his chest, right on the scar.

"_ARGHHH!_"

"See? It still hurts!"

"_Of fucking course it still hurts_! I got wasted yesterday!", he nearly shrieked. His chest screamed, too.

"Are you finished with him, Kureha?" The gravelly voice cut across the chaos in the room, and both he and the old crone turned around, surprised, at the sudden intrusion.

Zoro didn't recognize him, but he immediately saw the shiny badge on his chest, and his stomach clenched in anger and expectation.

The stranger was a tall man, with steel-gray hair; he was handsome in a weather-beaten way and he was dressed in a rather informal way which jarred with the badge. A large white duffel coat with forest-green fur trim. It would have made the owner immediately gay if the guy hadn't been so extremely masculine.

"Ahhh, Captain.", Kureha straightened, from where she had been glaring, nose to nose with Zoro, "I was trying to convince my patient of his limitations."

The man turned an eye on him, "Listen to Kureha, kid. She's the best doctor in this whole damn hospital."

"Who are you?"

"Ah, kid, this was the man you were going to talk to. He's Captain of the police force here in Grand Line; just came in.", Kureha commented, heading to the door, "I'll leave him to you Smoker. Call me when you're finished; and don't take too long, he's not well yet."

"I won't take long."

They stood there, after Kureha had left, measuring each other, contemplating. At last, Zoro spoke, "Is your name really Smoker?" It seemed unlikely.

"No. That's what everybody calls me because I smoke too much; I can't smoke in a hospital or else I'd have two cigaros is my mouth right now."

"What's your real name then?"

"Captain Condriano Fumador."

"Exotic."

"That's why I just say, 'Call me Smoker.'"

"Well, what can I do for you Captain Smoker?", Zoro asked, on guard, "Let me just tell you that I've already seen one of you today, and this whole good cop-bad cop is getting old. Fast. I'm getting pretty fucking sick of it, if that doesn't offend you."

Smoker spat in the trashcan, "Lucchi, that bastard."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you guys jerk-off buddies or something?" He began to have the feeling that this guy wasn't too bad.

"God forbid. Lucchi is CP9, strictly government. The difference between us is like the difference between the CIA and FBI, me being FBI of course."

"So….?", Zoro trailed off, wary. He didn't want to admit that he had no idea what the difference were between FBI and CIA. It wasn't like he'd ever been a major class criminal; though, the way things were, he guessed he was heading in that direction.

"Put basically, Lucchi is sort of touched in the head, I believe. He's heartless. That's why he has the job he has-the man is utterly ruthless.", Smoker said quietly, his forehead was furrowed in anger. "What'd he say to you?"

"Just told me to quit it or else he'd take away my library card….hell, no! The bastard said he'd hurt my friends if I did anything.", Zoro snapped.

"Sounds like him. Lucchi doesn't care if his motives hurt civilians. I do. And I guess that's why I'll always be paid less." His voice was amused, cynical.

"So what do you have to tell me?"

"Nothing really. I'm here to take in your report for the damage done you-though I'm pretty sure you refuse to accuse Mihawk?"

"You guess right…Everyone seems to know I fought him, huh?", Zoro felt a little disturbed at the notion.

"You've been watched here and now, and it just so happens that you were being watched that day."

"W-what? What'd you say?" Was it him, or was it suddenly nearly suffocating in this room? The room had seemed to empty of all air, and it hurt to breath.

"What? Was it that big of a surprise that you were under surveillance?", Smoker gave him a _rookie_ look.

"No…but I was watched the_ entire_ day?" The car…making out in the car for nearly two hours, oh fuck, had they been watched?

"_I _don't know. You were sure being watched when you fought Mihawk. Under Lucchi's orders. Why? What else were you up to Roronoa?", Smoker was staring at him in a suspicious way.

"Are you sure? The _entire_ day? By who?"

"You're not getting anything out of me._ Especially_ if you were up to something, which judging from your reaction, you _were_."

"Goddamn you, you piece of shit! I'm fucking worried to death about what the prick is going to do with my friends and family!", Zoro snarled, furious, "I was with my girl all day and now they'll know who to fuck with!" It was the best he could come up with at the moment.

"Look, kid…", Smoker sighed, and rubbed his forehead, "Let me get this straight first-I'm not your friend, and I'm never going to be. Personally I think you're a piece of shit for teaming up with Teach and for getting your hands into this mess in the first place;_ and_ you'd look better behind some bars….", he sighed, "But as long as I'm here, I'll try my fucking best to protect the innocent. It that includes your friends, then I'll protect them too."

"Thank you", Zoro said quietly, "Thank you for being a fucking _human being_. And for the record, though I think you're a complete bastard for not understanding that sometimes we don't have a fucking_ choice_ in what we do, I think you're okay for a cop. That's saying a lot, coming from me, ya know."

"I see we've reached an understanding.", Smoker grunted, "If that's all, then I got things to do…Hell, half the stuff I do, I've got to make sure Lucchi doesn't undo it behind my back."

"I'm going to hold you to your word."

"Hey, if your friends break the law, and I catch them , then I won't have any trouble of slapping some cuffs on them. Same goes for you, now that I think about it."

"I never said that wasn't fair. I just don't want them to get hurt because some prick that thinks the ends justifies the means." But Zoro felt a small measure of relief fill him; at least they all weren't against him.

"I can't watch them twenty-four-seven kid. If they get hurt, they get hurt. There's nothing I can do about it. I can only keep an eye on Lucchi and stop him from going overboard. That's about it." Smoker said bluntly.

"What! Can't you do more?", Zoro cried, exasperated; his earlier sense of security ripped away without a look back.

"No.", Smoker turned to leave, but paused, suddenly, with one foot aside the door, "Roronoa…Lucchi's ruthless. I told you. He'll get what he wants eventually. If you ask me…you're screwed.", Smoker paused again, "I could lose my job for telling you this, but don't underestimate him. I suggest you take care of your friends very carefully, if you can. He knows everything about you already. All your friends, all your girlfriends, all your enemies. He's been here for a while; today, you might have seen him for the first time, but you're an old face to him."

"Jesus Christ! Why me?", Zoro muttered, burying his face into his hands.

"The man's got scary intuition. We weren't going to bother with you as much as some of the others…but now, you're got yourself a pretty big name. And Lucchi's got everything he needs to know about you. Blackbeard's the biggest name out here you know. And Mihawk…I don't understand why he didn't kill you. "

"That makes two of us."

Smoker shrugged, "Who knows…Good luck Roronoa. I'll be seeing you around."

"Yeah.."

There was nothing else to do now…and he didn't think he could think about it anymore or his brain would self-combust. Zoro briefly wished that he could talk to Sanji…he hadn't seen him in three-almost four days now; and the blonde must be pretty worried. But he had no idea where his cell phone was. It had been in his pocket of his jeans, but all his clothes had been taken from him. He'd have to ask the old witch when she came back…

That was his last thought before he snuggled back into the blankets and drifted off to the big sleep.

~0~

"Zoro! Ah, Jesus Christ, man! You're a sight for sore eyes! Oh, man when Luffy told me, I nearly had a fucking heart attack! Burned rubber to get here…but the bastards wouldn't let me see you-said some shit about not being family-blah-blah-blah…Like being blood brothers _isn't _family!", Ace cried out, nearly blabbering in relief. He danced around Zoro's bed, looking as though he wanted to hug him , but not daring to, through all the bandages that Kureha had strapped back on a few hours ago.

Ace had come, alone, around seven or eight hours after Smoker had left, Zoro had been awake when he heard the door open and his freckled, bare-chested friend step inside. Zoro wondered how he had been allowed in like that, and then figured it was because he was eye candy after all to all the nurses. After the preliminary, "Ace!", and "Zoro!" Ace had rushed to his bad and seeing that a hug was out of the question, roughly slid a hand in his green hair, ruffling affectionately.

"Ace, man. You don't know how _fucking _glad I am to see you, dude. This place is as boring as an old man's dick. There's so fucking much that I have to tell you!", Zoro said, gripping Ace's hand in the typical guy's hand-hug.

"Yeah, me too. But first, how are you feeling. Mihawk didn't hurt you too bad?", Ace eyed his bandages.

"Pretty bad, but I can deal with it…but, Ace, listen, when I woke up, this guy, I never seen before-", Zoro began excitedly.

"That's good, man. I don't know what'd I do if you died. It sucks that you lost, but you got up man. You got up! You can train some more, and fight him again. You're young."

"Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. Listen though, Ace-this guy told me that he's been watching me for a weeks, and that if I don't tell him-", Zoro began again.

"God knows that you've trained so fucking much already dude, don't worry, it wasn't your fault that you lost. You just haven't gotten experienced enough. There's what ten, fifteen years between you guys?"

"Yeah, I said _I know_-but Ace-" He was getting annoyed now.

"Everybody's worried about you Zoro. Robin wanted to come with me, but I thought you wouldn't be awake. Usopp and Luffy won't shut up about it, and everybody else, Chopper, Franky, Kohza…they're freaked out. Usopp said you were _covered_ in blood, we thought that you'd died." Ace turned around to face the wall.

"Ace! Shut the fuck up for a minute! Just listen to me for a minute. This guy, L-"

"Lucchi. Roberto 'Rob' Lucchi, Yeah, I know. CP9. Smoker. Kaku Montaña, Kalifa Borbujas, Jyabura Lobo, Kumadori Leon. Fukoroh Tecelote, Blueno Puerta.", Ace quietly said, he didn't turn around. "I know all about it. Was that were you trying to say?"

"How do you know?"

"They showed up at my place.", Acefinally turned around, and Zoro could see his fists clench together fiercely, "They showed up, a bunch of guys…it was night…Luffy was sleeping…and they said that if I wasn't going to cooperate with them, then they'd start with the weakest of my friends first." There was a hitch in his voice, and Zoro saw in shock, as Ace's shoulders shook minutely, and he realized in shock, that Ace was crying, or struggling not to.

"_Jesus…"_

"_The weakest of our friends,_ Zoro. I can't stop thinking about Luffy and Usopp, Chopper, Robin…", He sighed, "They've got us by the balls, Zoro."

"What'd they want from you?"

"Same thing they probably wanted from you. 'Cooperation'. They want a blank check from us-at least, they wanted me to spy on Blackbeard and the other guys, report to them, anything and everything. And if I don't-they'll hurt someone."

"Who else was talked to?"

"Couple others; not the really big names, but the unknowns, either. And I heard that the other gangs-Kreig's, Arlong's, Buggy's, …they got the same treatment. They're not discriminating at all…they plan to clean the whole damn city up."

"Is there anybody who's planning to give in?"

"Not that I know._ I'm_ as hell not-I have to survive on something-I can't keep on bothering Luffy and you guys for everything…and the other guys are in the same shit-they got family to protect, to _feed_. If they go against their boss, and he finds out, then they'll be dead, and their family is going to starve…._goddamn CP9!"_

"Ace-"

"And fuck it-we have some fucking _pride_ too! No one's going to give in, because we have some fucking pride left-we just can't be pushed and shoved like this anymore!"

Zoro was quiet for a minute, digesting the information, then he asked, "What did you think about Smoker?"

"You mean Condriano? Ehhhh…he's all right; talked some sense. But he's not our friend, and I doubt he can do much-it looked like Lucchi was the one who was really going to take charge. Or more like Smoker is going to be the legal, above-ground part of it; and Lucchi's going to be tinkering around in the shadows, where no one is going to be looking."

"Shit, this fucking sucks!",Zoro gripped his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily, "What the hell can we do?"

"Gotta look out for our friends, that's what we have to do. Try to be around them more-though, the truth is, that we can't baby-sit them all day…we're just going to hope that nothing happens. When you get out, we can go talk to Blackbeard-we can't live like this-we'll try to convince him to put some pressure on them to ease up with the police."

"We can't do anything, huh?", Zoro said quietly.

Ace sighed, "Not really."

"Hey…"

"What?"

"If they do take one of our friends…we're just going to have to turn away."

"Yeah. It sounds shitty, I know. But how are we going to end this shit if we give into their demands? How are we going to even look ourselves in the mirror if we let these bastards use us and use our friends? We're just going to have to have faith in our friends to stand strong and not give in themselves."

"I shouldn't have let that bastard walk out of here.", Zoro muttered, gripping the bed sheets between his fists hard.

"Don't be an idiot. You can't get put away when everybody needs you the most…", Ace paused, "but if you or I _ever_, and I mean, _ever_, get the damn chance of taking one of those shits down without getting caught, then hell yeah, we're going to do it."

"Agreed."

Ace nodded, "Look, I'm going to leave you now so you can get some rest now. I'm sorry that I had to put more stress than you already have-"

"Nah, that's fine. I needed to know. Thanks."

"Yeah, when do you think you'll get out of here? Not to be a bitch, but we need you on your feet, more than ever-"

"Yeah, I know. Two-three weeks they said, but I'll be out in a week and a half, max."

"Good. That's my man."

"Hey, Ace-Do you know what Luffy and Usopp did with my swords?"

Ace stiffened, "I hate to tell you this, after so much shit, man…"

"They lost Wado?", Zoro asked dully.

"No, your other two swords broke-you only have one. Luffy and Usopp went back and picked up the sheaths and fragments…but, man, they're in hundreds of pieces…they're done for."

Zoro felt a small measure of relief fill him, "Oh. No, it's all right. I knew they broke…I was worried about Wado, though. Where is it?"

"They wouldn't let Luffy and Usopp take it inside the hospital-it's at my place."

"Oh, good. Thanks. Tell them thanks too-Luffy and Usopp. Especially Luffy-for giving me blood."

"All right, I'll tell him. I got to go now-oh wait, damn, I almost forgot-Usopp would have killed me," Ace dug into his shorts and tossed something to Zoro,

Zoro caught it and grinned, "My cell!"

"Yeah, it fell out of your pocket and Usopp picked it up. Told me to give it you if you were awake."

"Tell him thanks."

"Yeah, keep it on, we need to be in touch, I'll call you if anything happens."

"All right. See-ya. Be careful."

"You too.", Ace shut the door quietly behind him. Meanwhile, Zoro was busy flipping his cell open and turning it on.

The service network screen finally came on and directed him to his normal background-a Zen garden. He immediately saw the 'unread messages' and 'missed calls' icons flashing quietly in the corner of the screen. Zoro quickly opened his inbox and cursed quietly, unsurprised.

_Missed call: Sanji Missed call: Sanji Missed Call: Sanji Missed Call: Sanji Missed Call: Sanji…._

~0~

When Zoro hadn't shown up at school the next day, Sanji hadn't been particularly worried. Just noted the lack of green hair at lunch and the empty seat next to Luffy in Home Ec. He had sent an inquisitive text to the absentee in question-_Where are you?_

There had been no answer. He hadn't been worried, not even annoyed. He had just figured that Zoro was busy, At night, he had called him. No answer. Had left a message. No call back.

Not there at school again. No call. No answer. Nothing. Nothing,

Maybe he was sick. No worries. Zoro could take care of himself, he was a big boy. Sanji kept his cool.

Not there the next day.

He finally started to worry when he hadn't seen him in three days. He stopped by Zoro's house. It was empty. He didn't know what scared him more, the fact that it was empty, or that Zoro's bike was still parked in the front, as if waiting for its owner to return and reclaim it.

In an act of desperation, he had broken a window and clambered in, Noticing with amusement that a walking pedestrian simply glanced at him, grinned, and shook his head as he disappeared legs-first into the house.

But a quick search through the rooms revealed nothing, Zoro's room looked normal, though the towels in the bathroom were dry and his bed made. It looked as if no one had been there for a few dyas at least.

He was getting pretty desperate around the end of the third day. Enough, so that he resolved to go talk to Ace. D Portgas and beat the information out of him if necessary.

_What the hell happened to him? Where the hell is he? Why doesn't he call me or text me? _Sanji's mind raced with every single second that went by. Zoro could be dead, his life finally taken by the street life he had chosen. Zoro could have been kidnapped and held for ransom by some other gang, Zoro could be lying broken and battered in the hospital, beaten nearly to death by a gang, Zoro could have fucking eloped with some bathing-suit beauty-

He had been at the Baratie, fiercely sweeping the floor and worrying, three cigarettes stuck in his mouth and smoking like a chimney when finally-

_Incoming Call: Zoro_

Sanji nearly broke it when he clawed it open and pressed the TALK button, "Zoro!", he nearly _screeched_ into the speaker

"Hi."

"What the fuck do you mean 'hi'?", Sanji's knees unhinged in relief, a relief so deep he could feel it's warm reaches all the way to his toes, it was like he didn't know how worried he had been until he had heard Zoro's voice."_Where have the hell have you been?_ _What the hell have you been doing?_ _What the fuck happened to you!"_ And because the relief was so great, and because it was true, _" I was so fucking worried about you!"_

A deep chuckle followed, "You were worried? Did you miss me?"

"_You moron, of course I was fucking worried!_ You shit! You _disappeared_! Where'd you go? Where are you-",

"Did you miss me?", Zoro repeated.

"I was _worried!_ Where are you? I-", Sanji longed to reach through the phone and strangle the green-haired idiot.

"First tell me you missed me." His voice was low, husky.

"_What!_ Just tell me where the hell you are!", Sanji slapped his forehead with his palm, frustrated to no end.

"Not 'til you tell me how much you missed me.", the teasing note rang loud and clear in Sanji's burning ear.

"_Fine_! I missed you! Okay? Happy? Where are you?", Sanji yelled, feeling highly annoyed, but the relief that Zoro was still fucking _alive_, so great he believed he would have done anything Zoro asked him too at the moment.

"How about telling me how much you love me?"

"I love you-I love you-I love you! There! Good? Where are you? Just tell me where the hell you are so I can come see you!" _Oh, Jesus, Zoro, I thought I would never say that to you again…_The realization made his eyes prickle and his voice crack at the end.

"Wha-Sanji-Are-Are you _crying_?", Zoro sounded dumbfounded, a little guilty.

"Fuck no!" Sanji snapped, rubbing his eyes fiercely, his voice thick, "Where are you?"

"Um, I'm at Hiraluk's Medical Center…Room 419, I think, in the…uh, critical care unit." He sounded embarrassed.

"What! What the hell are you doing there? What kind of shit did you get yourself into? Wait, I'm coming, right now." Sanji was out of the Baratie, and into his car, in three seconds flat.

"It's hard to explain…I'll tell you when you get here. See you when you get-"

"No! Don't you fucking dare hang up the freaking phone! If you do, I'll kill you-"

"What! I'm _already _half dead! Are we going to keep on talking until you get here? That's dumb."

"_Half-dead_! What the hell happened to you? And _yes_, you're going to stay on that phone and talk to me; I swear to God that I'm not going to hang up this damn phone until I see you with my own damn eyes."

"You mean 'eye'. You never show that other eye." Zoro sounded like he was smirking.

"My hair covers it. But I can still see through it, I'll be there in five minutes." There was a pause of thirty seconds while Sanji waited impatiently for Zoro to answer, when he didn't, "Zoro!"

"What! _Jesus_! I'm right here!"

"Talk to me! I'm fucking paranoid you're going to disappear again!"

"All right, all right….Sanji?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, idiot. That's why I was so damn worried." Sanji relaxed.

"Why don't you ever say, 'I love you' without adding some kind of insult? It's always 'I love you idiot' or 'I love you moron' or 'I love you mosshead', hell, when you first told me, you said, and I quote, 'Well , I hate to say it 'coz you're such an idiot, but I love you too.'" His voice was philosophical.

"You can quote me?" Sanji couldn't decide whether he felt flattered or creeped out.

"You know why I think you do that? Coz you're still worried about having sex with me."

"How the hell do you get that? And do you ever think about anything other than sex? I'm just asking.."

"Well, it's obviously your way of trying to excuse yourself from being in love with a guy. If you add 'idiot' at the end of 'I love you', everything's ok, because your manhood is still preserved." He chuckled. "I'm such a genius…"

"That's utter bullshit. I don't know how else to say it. Two minutes."

"Denial is the first sign."

"You're a retard."

"Than anger."

"All right! Fine! I-love -you -_Zoro_. Just don't tell me to call you honey or sweetheart. I have limits…limits…"

Zoro laughed, "I love you Sanji…"

"I love you.", "I'm here. I'll be at your room in a minute. God help them if they try to stop me…" He dragged his Lexus into a wheelchair-only section near the front and gave the finger to an old man who shook his fist at him.

"Tell them you're my husband.", Zoro snickered.

"I'm glad it's decided that you're the wife." Sanji strode through the hospital's wide glass doors, cell phone clutched to his ear.

"I don't care as long as we're married." Smug.

"Room 419? Is that what you said? And married? Where did that come from?" Sanji glared at the receptionist who pointed at a 'No cell phones please' sign.

"Yeah, 419, and what? You don't want to?"

" 412…413..We're a little young…"

"So? Then we can have our wedding night, and we can fuck." Special emphasis on the last word.

"414…415…You still want to fuck me?"

"Yeah. I have this feeling your ass is going to be heaven."

"416…417…And what, you'll be Jesus Christ, ascending into heaven?"

"I don't believe in God."

"418…419! I can't see you…"

"The shades are drawn. I can hear you…Just open the door. I'm hanging up now."

"Fine."

~0~

"Zoro-", Sanji threw open the door and was greeted with the sight of the green-haired man sitting jauntily in a elevated hospital bed.

"Hi." Zoro grinned at him, not sure what to say; and then Sanji was moving swiftly towards him, "Woah, hey, watch my bandage-" Sanji bent over him, and with a quick look around, surprised him with a kiss-a good, hard smack, on the lips.

"Hey, if I knew you were going to be so sweet, I would get injured more."

"Don't be an idiot-Now, _fucking tell me how you_ _fucking_ _got here_!" Sanji's eyes went to the quilt which covered his body.

"Uh-it's nothing big…_woah_, don't do that-", Zoro unsuccessfully tried to swat Sanji's hands from prying down the bed sheets, which he had pulled up all the way to his armpits before the cook had gotten here.

Aeons seemed to pass as Zoro tried not to squirm under Sanji's critical gaze, he foolishly felt like using his hands to cover up as much as the black and red line as he could, felt like snatching the blankets back up and burrowing deep under them, anything to get away from those blue eyes. Oddly, he felt more naked and exposed now, then he had ever felt before with this same man.

"I kind of fell on a sword…Is it ugly?", he asked, sounding stupid to his own ears, and worse-feeling ashamed.

Sanji slowly shook his head, and bending gently down, he kissed the roughest part of the scar softly. The whispered motion sent goosebumps rippling up Zoro's back and made the short hair on his neck stand up. "It's beautiful…", he heard Sanji murmur.

Zoro tried to say something, but something was blocking his throat. A rough lump, lodged in the middle of his windpipe was preventing him from saying anything. He settled instead for, ruffling the blonde hair roughly.

Sanji gently replaced the blanket, and tucked him in, careful not to rub the white sheets across his chest. "Don't worry. You'll beat him next time.", he said, smiling.

Zoro promptly untucked himself, "Don't do that-It's too damn hot…Beat who?"

"Mihawk, of course. I'm not stupid.", Sanji savagely tucked the blanket in around him again.

"Huh…Yeah, I need to train more…_Don't do that_-"

"Yeah.", Sanji relented and allowed him to escape, "but, Zoro…don't push yourself, and don't try to meet him again so soon. Chasing your dream is great-but if you die out of recklessness…that's just stupid."

"I don't plan on dying until we finally have sex."

Sanji chuckled, "You're impossible…Look, if you want to do it, all right. Let's do it." He didn't know what prompted him to say it, and at the same time, he knew exactly what. Death renders a great many things ridiculous. What was the pain of sex to the pain of never having sex with this man? He had been lucky that death hadn't intervened but only passed close enough to illuminate his fears. Sanji had never felt so blessed or so tired in his life.

"Did you lock the door?"

"Not right here! Christ! When you fucking _heal!"_

"Damn it! You're _cruel_, you know? Dangling meat right in front of a starving man…and then snatching it away-"

"Is that_ all _I am to you_-meat_? You know what? I take the offer back-Like_ hell_ I'd let someone like you up my-"

"You can't take it back! It's already decided-_mpgh_…mhmm", Zoro relaxed into the kiss, thinking that Sanji chose the worst times to make out. He gripped Sanji's collar and felt Sanji place a hand on the wall behind him, to support himself.

It was quiet in the room for a minute or so, except for the quiet, stifled sounds of pleasure.

His breath was ragged, as Sanji whispered, "Of course, I'm not going to take it back…Just don't ever do that again, Zoro. Okay?" With each word, his lips moved against Zoro's open mouth.

"Do what?"

"Disappear like that. _Jesus_, Zoro…I don't know what the hell I would have done if something had happened to you."

"I'm fine…", Zoro kissed him, a slow, reassuring kiss. "But, Sanji-I have to tell you something. I don't know how you'll take it but…", Zoro quickly filled Sanji in about the two visits he had been paid, starting with Rob Lucchi's twisted ultimatum, going on to Smoker's cryptic warnings, and ending with Ace's baffled fury and his plan.

"What…? All because you beat Mihawk?", Sanji had quietly listened to it all, with few interruptions, and had not moved from the side of his bed, had only shifted his position, so that his elbows rested heavily on the frame, and stuck out his ass so that his back wasn't painfully hunched. It was a position Zoro would have found tantalizing in any circumstances other than these.

"I know…At first, I was surprised, I'd done worse things… maybe I hadn't actually attacked a government guy like this before…but it's not like I won. It shouldn't have mattered. I think they're just using it as an excuse to take me off the streets."

"But would do they gain? I mean, no offense, but it's not you're some kind of major criminal…", Sanji said quietly, studying the IV drips thoughtfully.

"Like I said-", Zoro repeated, a bit exasperated, _why are all the good-looking ones so stupid sometimes-"_It's not just as limited to taking me off the streets-they put the arm-lock on me, get me to do stuff for them-it's always been done, it's not a new concept for them, or for us either, we call people who run for others 'gophers'"

"But, if I hear this right…then you and your friend-Ace-decided that you weren't going to play their game? Even if one of your friends gets hurt?", Sanji didn't look at him.

"I can't afford to do that. I can't afford to play 'hero' Sanji,", Zoro gripped his arm, "I can't endanger dozens, hell, hundreds of people's lives just for one friend. I can't-I can't do that."

"What about you?", Sanji demanded, "What about your life?"

"I'll be fine-Me and Ace agreed to keep our noses clean until this mess blows over, so we can be there for our friends, watch over them." He said nothing about their secret agreement to take the chance of murder if it appeared. Or the fact that he doubted that this situation would _ever_ blow over.

"But Blackbeard? You're in a gang, for Christ's sweet sake Zoro-if you have to play John Doe-the law-abiding citizen for a while, then there's no way you can keep on playing gang. What if you have to something? What then, eh?"

"Look, I never said everything was going to be one-hundred-percent safe and all fun-and-games. There's risks I have to take-"

"What about us? I can't just stand by and watch you kill yourself-"

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? There's nothing I can do! There's nothing_ you_ can do! There's nothing _anybody _can do!

"Why can't you quit the gang?", Sanji demanded.

"No.", Zoro's response was immediate, almost automatic, "Being in a gang is what's keeping me alive right now. You think it's me they're scared of? Hell no, they're not touching me if I still carry the black. And anyway, I can't just abandon my friends like that. I can't protect them if I don't know what they're doing-and they won't be able to tell me if I'm not in."

"Well, why don't you tell Blackbeard then? Isn't threatening you the same thing as attacking you."

"No, it's not. If that was true, then there'd be complete chaos all the time in Water 7. What Lucchi's doing-hell, they even protect it under the Constitution-bill of rights-right to free speech. And yeah, I'm going to tell Blackbeard, but what can he do? Same as me-watch everybody and wait."

"But he has to tell you to stop doing illegal things."

"Can't do that. If I stop collecting or putting face or anything that I do to preserve the integrity of the gang, then what do you think will happen? The whole thing would disintegrate-it'd come right down around our heads. Blackbeard's just going to go straight on with his shit-and anybody's who's not smart enough or brave enough to follow him is going to drown. Nobody's going to sit patiently and wait it out. Me included"

"But-_goddamn it. _There has to be some way out."

"There isn't. I would have thought about it. Trust me, I know this business inside and out. About me, I'm not exactly worried, but it's my friends they're going to try to put pressure on."

"What are you going to do if they do get someone?"

"Nothing. I can't do anything. What if they take Robin and tell me to kill Usopp? I can't do that."

"What if they take someone like Ace, and then tell you to kill someone you don't really like? Not to be shallow, but won't you choose to save Ace?"

"_Now _you're seeing the beautiful plans they've worked out. It's beautiful and brilliant and completely twisted." Zoro said, a grin which didn't quite fit his face, decorating it, "Sure, I'd want to save Ace. But I can't. But there'll be people who can't make that choice. And that's what they want. They'll match it all up perfectly. They'll take someone special and make the target someone the person doesn't really know. That way it'll be easier. Bastards."

"Why can't you distance yourself from the people you're close with? Throw them off."

"Too late. And it'll be too easy to find out who my real friends are. I tell you, they know a lot about every one of us. Just like we know almost everything about them, so they know what goes on in our little groups. If you want to keep anything secret in Water 7, you don't tell it."

"Zoro…", Sanji didn't know what to say, so instead he shifted himself, and cradled the green head in his arms, hugged him tightly to his jacket. Trying to envelop him in at least a moment of safety and love and feeling utterly impotent to protect this man whom he loved, but who was mixed up in things beyond his control.

"I'm so fucking grateful, they don't know about you. That no one knows about you. So fucking grateful…", Zoro murmured into the warmth of the solid chest he was currently sizzling into, his voice thick.

"It'll be all right…It'll be okay. Don't worry about it. It'll be fine." Sanji said softly, knowing it would not be, but understanding that he must say it anyway, if they were to ever hope to get through whatever was coming. "It'll be all right."

Sanji looked up briefly, and saw IV drip system, looking horribly medical with its long, plastic syringes and cold, unfamiliar fluid bags. It seemed to leer at him, as though enjoying the dramatic irony of the future and laughing at his hollow words.

~0~

It was a dark room, the only window was grated, and so the light that crept inside was slashed apart by black bars and was able to illuminate only faintly.

A door opened quietly, and the man who entered was able to see glimpses of articles, papers, charts, and maps which covered the four walls of the room before a sharp word from a man who was seated at a table, heretofore unseen, and hidden in the shadow, prompted him to quickly sweep the door shut behind him.

"Lucchi-", the man who entered was wearing a formal black suit, which contrasted nicely with the deep orange tie and handkerchief which complemented it. His hair was a sandy blonde, with hints of orange and tan and covered mostly with a black baseball cap. Only two large brown eyes and a long, strange, square-ish nose peeked out from the dual confines of the cap and his turtleneck-style suit, "How the heck can you see in here? It's pitch black."

"Kaku. I'm fine. Do you have the files?"

"I swear, you have the eyes of a cat, Lucchi.", Kaku said, "I have them right here. Kalifa just handed them to me." He handed a thick packet of plain, manila folders to Lucchi, who took them with a rather predatory smile and stood up.

"It's no stranger than your obsession with giraffes. That's a fetish.", Lucchi said, he spread the files out on the desk, which stood in the middle of the room, and was covered with papers and other various other items.

"Which is no stranger than Kalifa's obsession with bubble baths and her OCD with everything being clean.", Kaku retorted, "What have you got there?" He asked, seeing Lucchi pick up a file and head to the one of the walls.

"Marshall D. Teach.", Lucchi replied softly, pulling out a still-frame photograph and tacking it on to the wall. "A truly strange man."

"Are you really going to believe him, then?", Kaku asked, a little doubtfully, eyeing the black and white glossy with suspicion.

"I will neither believe him, nor disbelieve him. Nothing matters until he completes his part of the deal. If he doesn't, then that's fine too. Pass me another file."

Kaku did, "And this one?"

"Ace D. Portgas.", Lucchi replied, after flipping it open and posting another large photograph underneath the previous one, "He needs to be taught some manners. I would gladly volunteer."

"Maybe we shouldn't have broken into his house.", Kaku observed dryly.

"What has Kalifa learned about this one?", Lucchi asked, ignoring the other man's previous remark.

"It's all in the file…but, he's eighteen, still in school; big name in Blackbeard's gang, rumors that he's been involved in various acts of arson and assault and battery…"

"Family?"

"There's where it gets a little weird," Kaku confessed, "He lives with his so-called brother-a Luffy D. Monkey-but there's no blood records between them. We checked the hospital, the library, the school-nothing."

"Luffy D. Monkey.", Lucchi repeated, and slowly chalked the name near the photograph of Ace, "Who is his legal guardian? Why doesn't he live with them?"

"Legally…Ace Portgas was born to a Rouge Portgas. The biological father was never found, or never recorded. Mother died at birth, I understand there was some complications, and Ace was adopted by a, let's see…", Kaku took the folder back and rifled through it for a few seconds, "By an Edward Newgate. Now deceased. Then, he was adopted by…Edward D. Teach."

Lucchi paused for a heartbeat, then slowly continued to examine the other files, "What a surprise. What do you think of this, zookeeper?"

"I'm not sure what to think about this." Kaku admitted, wincing at the nickname, "It seems highly unlikely that Blackbeard would-"

"Highly unlikely _or_ highly likely.", Lucchi interrupted, "Edward Teach is not someone I would take lightly. What else did Kalifa find?"

"Well, Ace doesn't seem to be in great favor with his adopted father. They barely see each other."

"And friends?"

"Zoro Roronoa. Robin Nico, Kohza Ermalu. Franklin Thomas. Antonio Chopper. Brooklyn Calaveras. Usopp Soge.", Kaku read off the names, written in Kalifa's overly feminine script. "He seems closest to the first two."

"Interesting, but not surprising. Give me Roronoa's file.", Lucchi paused and wrote something down on a piece of paper, "What else is the connection between Portgas and Monkey? And this Robin Nico?"

"They're very close, apparently. And look and act enough to have some people mistakenly assume they're blood.", Kaku flipped open another file, with an apologetic look to Lucchi, "Here he is. As for Nico-she's a close friend, she's Blackbeard's too. Her father is deceased, lives with her mother-Olivia Nico. "

"There's not much here.", Lucchi said critically, scanning the few sentences that accompanied the photograph-this time an extreme close up of a smiling boy with his hand up in a cute little wave, "What's wrong with the photo? He looks like's he's posing."

"He is.", Kaku admitted, "Kalifa said that she was as quiet and unobtrusive taking it as she was in the other photos, but the kid noticed her anyway, and insisted on posing for her."

"Kalifa's losing her touch.", Lucchi said critically, eyeing the photo with a chilling species of contempt. "Perhaps she should retire. Her, along with the useless mountain of meat that tends a bar on his spare time."

"Kalifa would say that's sexual harassment, Lucchi. And Blueno is the perfect undercover agent, yet.", Kaku chuckled.

"There's barely enough information here of the kid. I can get more off his Facebook than this.", Lucchi tossed the folder back at the square-nose, "It says there, that he's Garp's grandson."

"Yes. Garp's his legal guardian too. I understand that's why it's nearly impossible to collect any information of him, everything we try to open is 'classified' or 'access denied'. Even to us. And it seems as if no one wants to talk about him if we mention his last name. Anything other than small trivia."

"Parents?"

"We don't know. He did have a full-time babysitter when he was young. But Kalifa only was able to uncover the name 'Dadan' and that's all."

"No gang? Friends?"

"No, no gang. He's clean. Though he does have quite a few close friends in several gangs and from the cleaner portions out here-Eneis Lobby. Well liked._ Very _well liked.", Kaku answered.

"He doesn't seem to be important…but I have a feeling about this kid.", Lucchi muttered, staring coldly at the photograph. "I'll keep a close eye on him. As for Nico…the name sounds familiar. Why?"

"I'm not sure-There's nothing we could find about her or her mother. Their histories are clean.", Kaku hesitated.

"Go on. You're right.", Lucchi said, smiling darkly.

"Well, it seemed to me, that their histories seemed _too_ clean. Empty. Almost fake.", Kaku admitted.

"Correct. Find more about them both and inform me. File, please."

"Yes, sir. Here. Zoro Roronoa.", Kaku passed another file to Lucchi, "You met him a few days ago, didn't you? I would have gone but Kumadori needed me to-"

Kaku never managed to finish explaining to Lucchi just what Kumadori wanted him to do for the door opened again with a crash. Unlike Kaku, who had entered softly and inconspicuously, the man who entered did not bother with such niceties.

The square-nose only caught a glimpse of a long braided ponytail, an eccentric moustache, and a pair of purple sunglasses before the man threw himself in Lucchi's face, yelling, "Lucchi! Goddamn you! Your damn pigeon is shitting all over my office-"

"Hattori has a right to shit in your office, Jyabura. It's filthy anyway. Let that be a lesson to you to clean it next time.", Lucchi said calmly, glaring down into the newcomer's face.

"I said I'd clean it tomorrow! And now the damn bird has shit all over my papers!", Jyabura yelled. He was scruffy, powerfully man who had a lean, wolfish appearance. The part Indian, part Arabic blood that flowed in his veins manifested itself in the eccentricities which decorated his body; the large braid, the pointy and styled moustache, the ritual scars and tattoos which adorned his chest. A chest so revealed, because Jyabura enjoyed wearing nothing but his suit open and unbuttoned with nothing beneath, and a pair of black capris.

"I was wondering where Hattori was", Kaku said, chuckling, "He loves to be around Rob so much-it seemed strange that he wasn't here too…But Jyabura-me and Rob were just discussing the various people and their connections with each other, so we could maybe get a sense of it all, get out bear-"

"Kaku! Don't get cocky with me just because you got promoted to vice-leader under Lucchi. I'm still stronger than you, you know!"

"I never said anything about that.", Kaku frowned, "But-"

"What! What's this?", Jyabura grinned back at the photograph of Blackbeard on the wall next to him, "Teach!"

"Be silent for a while Jyabura, Kaku was informing me about this man and his affiliates.", Lucchi commanded coldly, and nodded to Kaku to continue. Jyabura glared, but stayed quiet.

"Well, as I said, Lucchi-you've met Roronoa. Best friends with Ace Portgas."

"I have, and it is no small wonder that they flock to each other. Beastly manners, the pair of them. They cannot seem to intimidate with using some form of a swear word. You too, Jyabura."

"Fuck you!", came the valuable input from that particular corner.

"There's not much about him either. Parents are both biological, but don't have much contact with him either. Spend most the day and night out of the city, working. His friends are the same as Ace's."

Lucchi slipped yet another photograph from the manila folder and hung it up, partially covering Ace's, "And?"

"Ah, there's something of particular interest about this man-there's rumors that he's not very interested in serving Blackbeard. Not very enthusiastic, not very ambitious to rise in his position. It's subtle, but there."

"Why, what is he thinking?"

"That's the guy who attacked Mihawk, right?", Jyabura interrupted, "Well, obviously, the man must be some sort of 'secret weapon' of Teach's. Teach could have hoarded him, so as not to gain interest or suspicion, then when the time was right-unleashed him on his target. Mihawk, in this case."

"But Roronoa lost.", Kaku commented, "Why would Blackbeard throw away a 'secret weapon' if the results are obvious? And attack a fellow Warlord?"

"Teach is a gang member, first and foremost.", Jyabura replied, "The less Warlords there are, the better for Teach, Less power to share and less alternatives to choose then him. He'll obviously want the choice which benefits him in the end."

"That doesn't make sense.", Lucchi said, "Teach is not as stupid as to offer us a deal, then put his credibility to suspicion by pulling a stunt like attacking Mihawk."

"So that leaves…Roronoa attacking Mihawk of his own accord." Jyabura.

"That's insanity.", Kaku said immediately, "I can't think of a reason for anyone to do that, short of a suicide attempt."

"How do we know Mihawk didn't attack Roronoa for fun? That Juraquille has sadistic pleasures…", Jyabura asked, pulling a flask from where it was hooked to his belt and taking a swig.

"How did Roronoa get to the hospital?", Lucchi suddenly asked, "Mihawk didn't bring him.", there was a moment of silence. Kaku opened his mouth to answer, and quickly shut it; embarrassed.

"Find me those people who brought him in…and anybody else who was admitted that day.", Lucchi said, and turned back to the folder, and scanned it quickly, "What's this?", he asked, tracing a name written nearly at the bottom ,seeming almost to be an afterthought.

"What?", Kaku asked, craning his neck to see.

"This-it's just one word, in a circle, with question marks around it…", Lucchi mused

"Well, how the hell are we supposed to know if you don't tell-", Jyabura began.

"Sanji.", Lucchi said softly, "What is that? Or who is that? Why is it surrounded by question marks?"

"Ah," Kaku said, his features clearing as he recognized the name, "Kalifa was telling me about this a while ago. She wasn't sure it was of any importance, so she only noted the name down at the time, just in case. Sanji is the name of a man who goes to East Blue High, with Roronoa, Portgas, Nico, Monkey, and all the others. He-"

"What gang?"

Kaku looked momentarily surprised, "No, no gang. Sanji Blackleg is from Eneis Lobby. Son of the CEO of Baratie-the multi-millionaire restaurant corporation and store chain. He doesn't have anything to do with Roronoa."

"Then..?"

"Apparently, a few months ago, Roronoa and Portgas made a little bet to see if Roronoa would be able to have sex-have _willing_ sex with Blackleg, Sanji by November or October, I forget the exact particulars. Teenage stuff."

"And she thought this was relevant because? I tell you, that Kalifa is the worst agent of all of us!", Jyabura barked out a laugh, which could only be described as a howl.

"Well, Kalifa said she found it interesting because,", Kaku seemed a little reluctant to go on, "because she said, this is what she said now, 'that they looked like very close friends, not at all as if Roronoa was acting, but as if he cared about Blackleg very much."

Lucchi said nothing, but turned and picking up a black Sharpie, etched a name below the photograph of the green-haired youth. '

'SANJI'.

~0~

He had been out for a week now and was feeling marvelous. The wound still ached from time to time of course, if he twisted too far contralaterally, if he picked something up that was a little too heavy, or if he accidently hit himself in the area around the wounded flesh.

Sure, it bled if he trained too hard, or too long-but what was life without taking those little obstacles by the horns?

Hell, if blood came spurting out from his scar right now in an agonizing fountain, he doubted if he would even notice or care. As he said, he was feeling marvelous, great, magnificent, fucking_ immortal_.

Sanji had said he was coming over to his house in two or three hours, and though nothing had been said, nothing exchanged more than the causal bantering and flirtatious back and forth name-calling; Zoro had felt a weird tenseness on the other side of the line, and a knee jerk instinct had the adrenaline surging into his blood in no time, making it hard to concentrate on stringing more than two words together.

He was sure that today was _the day_. The day of all days. _That_ day. The_ day_ which he had looked forward to with eager and impatient anticipation.

The day where he, Zoro Roronoa, finally fucked, had sex with, made love to, banged, made the sign of the two-backed beast, got it on with, busted a nut with, spread the legs of, plucked the cherry of, laid, did the nasty with, rode, etcetera-Sanji '_Oh-so-hot-and-utterly-fuckable-but-acts-like-a-virgin-to-the-consternation-of-my-lustful-lover_' Blackleg.

His nether regions felt a surge of warmth, whenever he thought about it. And hot, murky images invaded his mind-images of a naked blonde struggling underneath him, panting, writhing, crying out, thrusting, grinding, humping like a bitch in heat-

Zoro wandered about his house, cleaning his room, making his bed absentmindedly, picking up things scattered around, tidying the house without even realizing it. If someone could have felt just what he was feeling in this particular stage of his life, they would have likened his position to that of a husband, stalking the delivery room back and forth, waiting expectantly for his wife to give birth, emotions tuned to the breaking point with fear, longing, anticipation, and a joy just short of ecstasy.

In the shower? On the couch in the living room? On the bed? On the floor in his room? In the fucking garage? In the damn kitchen? Would that please the chef? Where would Sanji feel most comfortable? Where would Sanji want to fuck? WWSD?

The shower was a tempting idea-it afforded both a sense of security and womb-like comfort. And as the one of the most frequent spots for masturbation, as he himself could attest to, maybe it would afford Sanji a sense of taking this whole sex idea in a series of baby steps. Zoro's mind continued to gnaw at the idea-discarding it with the analysis that the shower wasn't very large, they'd have to fuck standing up-something that he wasn't willing to do for his first.

So that left…bed, floor, couch.

The floor was fun if they were feeling a little kinky, and if there was a nice carpet-but if there wasn't then it just ended up being fucking uncomfortable. And his house was no palace. Anyway, it didn't seem _right_ to have Sanji at last, for the first time, on the floorboards-the lowest things in the place.

Couch? Comfortingly casual and achingly familiar… and they had been tangled up on it a lot of the times Sanji had come over before he had landed in the hospital. Had jacked off on it together, had gotten rough and dirty, had come in front of each other's eyes, A good choice, an excellent choice. Except it wasn't what Zoro wanted.

It was too familiar, if that made any sense. Sex was something special, it should be treated as such.

So, that left the bed.

That simple syllable twisted Zoro's stomach in a pleasurable knot as it ran through his head. Bed. Humankind's greatest and most symbolic piece of furniture. The great duality of sex and sleep. Sure, they had made out on the bed, slept in it together, even. But, it had all bordered on the cute domestic, nothing more.

The intimacy of a bed…there was no way around it. It seemed to stand there in mute testimony; a veritable alter to intercourse.

Zoro headed back into his room, and changed the quilt on his full-size bed to the most nicest, most fluffiest one he had. With only a slight moment of hesitation, he opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a bottle of Aveeno lotion and placed it on the nightstand.

~0~

He reached out and snubbed his cigarette in the ashtray in his bed with a little more force than was necessary. It was his tenth cancer stick that he had lit up in the past two hours.

_Jesus H. Christ, I need to calm the fuck down._

Easy to say. Very fucking hard to do.

He, Sanji Blackleg, man of eighteen years and owner of a culinary talent so esteemed he'd been recognized in Paris, the center of the cuisine renaissance, was, in ten minutes or so, going to pick up his car keys, drive to his secret lover's house, walk through the door, and hand up his virgin ass.

He had accepted it, goddamn it. Didn't mean he was completely and utterly confidant with it. Especially with the long, agonizing delay between acceptance and the actual act which didn't help him, but on the contrary, made everything worse with the heightened tension.

He had an idea that Zoro knew perfectly well that he had decided that today was _that_ day. That embarrassing, surprising nervousness that had enveloped their conversation had all but screamed, _'I'm planning on having sex with you when I get over there!'_ in bold, neon letters.

But what if Zoro hadn't picked up on the obvious sexual signals? The man sometimes couldn't find his own ass with a map and written directions. What was he supposed to do then? Say nothing, but when they started making out, keep on going? Tell him immediately his intentions? That seemed like the most direct; the fluff could wait until he got used to having sex with the man.

_But where? When? What? _His mind recoiled at the last. _His bed, I suppose. And what then? _Sanji wondered how it would feel to be mounted from behind, to his ass spread and his hole entered, to be pressed into the bedcovers and thrust inside. Blood crashed into his cheeks, as he pictured Zoro grabbing his hips and angling him onto his cock; pushing him down and fucking him.

Briefly, the sex with Nami came back; and Sanji turned it inside out to fit the situation. Nami had enjoyed it, she had taken pleasure in receiving him. So, Sanji might feel the same ecstasy that she had when Zoro entered him and began to move against him. If he had to admit to himself, the images themselves were highly arousing.

Sanji glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time to go. He said he'd be over there in less than four minutes. He was a little late.

Sanji's hands itched to light another coffin nail up. Instead, before he could think about it and let reason and addiction reassert themselves, Sanji quickly headed to the toilet and tossed his entire pack in and flushed. Not even staying to see if the pack had clogged the tube or not, he only stopped to pick up a bag he had left near the door, and then he was off.

~0~

"So…did you see anyone tailing you, sort of following you?", Zoro asked. They were seated uncomfortably together on the couch.

After the preliminary kisses and greetings, Zoro had led Sanji into the living room, feeling much like some twisted kind of hostess and seated him on the couch. He had crashed down next to him, and Sanji had almost immediately stiffened. And Zoro was struck with an absurd impulse to offer him tea and a biscuit.

_Today is the day all right._

"Nah, I didn't. And I went around twice to throw anybody off. Left my car on the other street next to this, and just walked the alleys until I got to your patio door.", Sanji replied, he clenched his sweaty hands together, and wished mightily for a cigarette. He had immediately regretted throwing them away, and if wishes could come true out sheer force of will, Sanji would not immediately have found a butt between his fingers but a whole damn factory.

"That's good.", Zoro said, and coughed nervously.

"Yeah…", Sanji agreed vaguely and shifted around.

"How's the cut?"

"Not bad."

"Good…"

Silence.

"Hey, look-"

"All right! Fine!", Sanji interrupted loudly.

"Yeah, okay. Wait-what?"

"Let's get this shit over with. It's killing me.", Sanji grated, and began to unbutton his suit a little too fast to be called romantic. He looked like a man confronted with a chore to be done. A chore, that, though unpleasant, was necessary.

"Don't call it shit-if you don't want to, then that's fine-", Zoro put in, feeling somehow as if things were proceeding in the wrong direction. What had happened to making gentle love to his Sanji?

"No, I _want_ to. I want to _do_ this.", Sanji said, flinging away his shirt fiercely and attacked his jeans and buttons. He was ready to shit bullets and piss fire.

"You look like you want to beat me up." Zoro laughed, watching the strange strip-tease with keen interest.

"Take your clothes off. It's unfair if you don't.", Sanji answered, slipping off his shoes, socks, and pants with the same jerky, fierce movements.

"Shouldn't we head to my room?", Zoro asked doubtfully, getting into the spirit of things and sliding out of his shirt, "I don't want to fuck on the couch."

"Yeah. Okay. Point taken,", Sanji paused in removing his boxers, shook his head in a sort of _oh, the hell with this shit _kind of way and stripped them fully off, choosing to walk off naked in the direction of Zoro's room.

Zoro hurriedly slid out of his pants and belt and followed Sanji, just as nude. The bare back and ass in front of him, acting as excellent fodder for his fantasies-was warming him up considerably, and the blush of arousal spread quickly across his body, "You _do_ know I'm checking out your ass from here, right?", he called out.

"Good. Because you're going to be _in_ it in a few minutes.", Sanji answered, and damn, if Zoro didn't hear a smile in the words. That was good, relieving in fact; it helped to have a sense of humor in situations like this. Zoro felt himself relax a few more degrees.

He quickened his steps and caught up to Sanji just as the cook pushed the door to his room open. Zoro crept up and jumped on him; hearing Sanji choke as his forearms tightened momentarily on the blonde's neck and letting him carry into the room.

"Gah! You're heavy.", Sanji tumbled onto the bed with him, landing on his face; Zoro flipped him on his back and pressed to his lips to his. Sanji relaxed into the familiarity of the kiss, liking the pleasant tingles as their not-quite-hard cocks rubbed together naked. He quickly followed Zoro's encouraging movements to move more fully on the bed, lengthwise.

Sanji gripped the waist on top of him, paused to massage the hips, and then his hands found their way to the small of the back and interlocked there. Though seconds later, he raised them and pressed the flats of the shoulderblades towards him.

His legs were just as restless, Sanji brought them up and down slowly, as though he were running in slow motion in bed, feeling the friction with each pass. Zoro moved with him too, and their inexperience resulted in a rough and serpentine grinding, a dance with no clear, nor lovely moves.

He was hard, greedy; at the brink-Sanji stopped kissing Zoro, pausing for only a second to pant into his mouth, "Now. If you're going to do it, then do it now."

"Yeah, okay.", Zoro said, and reached for the Aveeno on the nightstand, and placed it next to his thigh.

"What's that?", Sanji demanded, looking as though he had seen Zoro stash away a .45 Magnum.

"Relax…It's just Aveeno-lube.", Zoro answered, diving in for more kisses.

"Lube?", Sanji repeated, after a few more open-mouthed kisses.

"Lub-ri-cant. Noun. A substance used-"

"Oh, okay, I knew that.", Sanji's color was high, his skin almost painfully hot to straddle. Zoro felt the first feelers of deep lust stir in him, and his hands traced the hips and thighs beneath him restlessly, impatiently.

"All right. So you're okay with me…doing the action?", Zoro asked, his hand wandered down and seized Sanji's erection in a good grip. He could almost feel it pulsing in his hand, filling with blood and come.

Sanji gasped and his legs spasmed at the touch; his cock felt like stone covered with sensitive skin in Zoro's hand. "Yeah…what do you want me to do? I mean…what…position…" There was no easier way to say it. And the hand fisted tightly around his erection was clouding his thoughts, distracting him.

"Say that again-but in a sexier voice.", Zoro said, grinning down at the cook beneath him, "It's hot."

"It wasn't supposed to be-", Sanji muttered, he would have blushed again if all his blood hadn't seemed to rush into his arousal. Zoro's hand was a tight ring of sensation; it sapped all his focus and strength, all he could devote energy to was imagining that hot ring moving up and down his length, pulling and squeezing-

"Ughh…yessss-", Zoro's hand slid up once, and fingers reached out and flicked the underside of his head, rubbed the slit. "Zoro…fuck me already…this is fucking torture…", Sanji groaned out, trying in vain to twist his hips, to move his body.

"Look Sanji, we can do it facing each other if you want or you can turn around-", Zoro said, continuing to pull gently at the head.

"What's-What's-_ughhh_-which one's better?",

"It'll be easier for me if you turn around.", Zoro admitted, "Some people don't like it though, I guess they think it's degrading…" He decided telling Sanji that it was one of his secret fetishes to fuck him from behind was a bad idea.

"No, I'm fine. Let me flip."Sanji said, and Zoro lifted himself off, giving Sanji enough space underneath him to turn over on his stomach. Then he settled back on, letting his balls rest on the crack of Sanji's lower ass. It was the most sexiest position he could have hoped for.

"Okay, spread your legs", Zoro's voice was shaky; even his hands were trembling slightly from the sheer arousal of anticipation. How long had he wanted this man like this? Naked and underneath him; hard and erect and spreading himself so that he could enter?

Sanji acquiesced and shifted his legs apart; he could feel Zoro's weight straddling him, his cheek was squished into the bed and he felt completely aroused, and utterly dirty-nothing was so sexually pungent as this position. He felt himself getting horny with the mere thought of how he looked, of what Zoro was thinking about him. "This good?"

"Spread them further-it gives me more space-", Zoro felt Sanji obey and his legs swung in a large V, his toes reaching the sides of the bed. Technically, he didn't need them that far apart, but the image was fucking hot. He decided that this was something else that Sanji did not need to know.

His wide-spread legs made him feel like a prostitute, one of the more unsavory variety, and Sanji felt his cock throb rhythmatically with the feeling of the exposure.

"All right, now, um-", Zoro quickly gauged the distance between Sanji's hole and his cock, "Pull forward a little, bring your knees forward- kind of lift your ass up, just a bit though-"

"This is going to get uncomfortable fast-", Sanji muttered, getting his limbs correctly arranged.

"Yeah…hey, give me two of my pillows. All right-", Zoro slid them under Sanji's lifted ass so that they supported his weight and created the perfect distance between his ass and the bed. "There, you can relax now- Bring your knees apart more though."

Sanji did, And immediately felt the cold air rush in, felt the most sensitive breeze on the puckered mouth of his anus. His face burned.

Zoro reached for the Aveeno, opened it, and squirted a generous amount on his hand, then relished the sensation of transferring the creamy gel to his erection. Then covered Sanji's hole with it, pressing some in with the tip of his finger, as gently as he could.

Still Sanji made a sound halfway between a whimper and a snarl; his hips were trembling minutely. The first part of the alien intrusion was that tiny bit of lotion. It was cold, and felt like an ice chip in the center of his being.

"Okay, I'm going to stretch you now-I haven't done this before, so just yell at me if it hurts and I'll try to go slower…", Zoro said, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"No.", Sanji interrupted, "Just stick yourself in me, okay? No fingers."

"But, it's going to hurt like hell, Sanji", Zoro protested, "We haven't done this before, I don't want to hurt you-"

"No _means no_. I decide what goes in me, and right now, your cock is allowed, but not your _fucking _fingers, okay?" There were nerves in his voice.

"Fine…any reason why?", Zoro asked, lathering some more lotion on , just in case, and shifting closer so that his head was less than an inch away from Sanji's prepared hole.

"It's just…", there was a funny sort of embarrassment in the tone, "Your-your fingernails."

Zoro glanced at his hand in puzzlement, "What about them?"

"They'll scratch…"

"I'm not Wolverine.", Zoro couldn't but help but chuckle, it might his penis throb, and he stopped, out of breath.

"Whatever. Ready, oh shit, I can feel you-Ready?", Sanji's voice was strained, nervous. But determined.

"Yeah. Any last words?", Zoro smirked, he couldn't help it. He loved to see Sanji smile.

"Fuck you asshole.", it worked, Sanji laughed weakly.

"I believe _you _are the asshole.", and with this Zoro pressed forward and in, his eyes watched as his red cock disappeared slowly inside Sanji; watched too, as the walls of muscle stretched and gave way reluctantly.

"Oh, fuuuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!", Sanji squeezed his eyes so tight he could see afterimages dancing around on his eyelids. Zoro wasn't huge, but when it's you're a-hole, things go by a different scale apparently. Every inch translated to a mile, every cubic inch was a cubic foot;; Sanji felt stretched enough to allow a mini-van in. The pain was vast, large-it felt like someone had splashed gasoline around his hole and lit a match.

"I _am_, you idiot,", Zoro said, gasping and laughing as he entered, "How are you feeling-" Halfway in.

"Oh shhhhhiiiiit-ughhhh-god-this is like _ughhh-agh_! taking the biggest shhhiit backwards…ughh!"

"That's fucking disgusting,", Zoro said, revolted, "Don't compare my proud manhood to a piece of shit! Way to harsh my boner, man!" Three-quarters in. He was tempted to shove himself inside, get it over with, but Sanji would probably never forgive him.

"Everything's ARGH-uh-uh-ugghhh…shit. That's where I shit out of anyway-", Sanji gave a grunt as he felt the burning pain reach a plateau, a tolerable plateau. The pain steadied, throbbed rhythmatically, much like the pleasure of arousal-except the complete opposite. And Sanji found himself able to feel again in his extremities and to focus on details, "I feel your ballsack-Are you in?"

"Yeah, feels good doesn't it?"

"What? Your ballsack? Not really, I just feel the weight-" Sanji refused to admit it felt kind of nice. Sort of like a small victory for him. Zoro was fully inside-he had _survived._

"No, idiot, I meant me inside."

"I knew that. It still hurts-but it kind of feels…fulfilling."

"Fulfilling?"

"Look, I didn't bring along my thesaurus, don't be a bitch."

"Can I start moving?"

"Yeah. It-the pain-kinda leveled out. Damn-my hole feels as wide and flappy as an old prostitute's cUUUNT! _God_!" , Sanji cried out as Zoro withdrew and plunged half-way back suddenly. "_Warn _me! Jesus H. Christ jumped up and played the fucking fiddle!"

But surprisingly, the pain hadn't returned full force as he might have suspected, it had only spiked up half-heartedly. And this time, it had felt good, better actually. It had felt pretty _damn_ good. His cry had been more surprise and nerves than pain.

"I did! I asked you! I said, 'Can I start moving?' and you said 'Yeah'", Zoro yelled back, his own heart racing; he had seriously thought he had hurt Sanji pretty bad there for a moment.

"Then move already!", Sanji yelled, surprisingly eager to feel the resurgence of feeling-of pleasure-as Zoro filled him again, with a cock that felt like a heated stone pillar that caused his whole ass to quiver in sensation. His hand struggled underneath him, and he lifted his butt slightly to grab his own cock, whose arousal had suffered from the insertion.

Zoro pulled out and pushed in again, and Sanji buried his face in the quilt to stifle his embarrassing cries of _oh-god-that-feels-great_. "Oh, Jesus-fuck-oh-goooooddddd…", he groaned out, feeling Zoro thrust in and timing it with a likewise stroke of his erection. The dual sensation, of being stimulated inside and out, felt absolutely_ wonderful_.

"You know what sucks about being atheist?", Zoro asked, he sounded amused and out of breath, and extremely turned on, "No one to talk to during sex." He pushed in, his hands gripping the sides of Sanji's hips hard enough to leave bruises.

The sex was damn good, better than had ever thought, but what really turned him on was the actual fact that he was fucking Sanji. That he was on top, mounted on his utter nudity, and thrusting his hard cock in and out of his ass, and that Sanji was crying out and moaning and masturbating beneath him to the sensations and thoughts that _he_ was fucking him. Oh, it was heaven. "I'm going faster, Sanji.", he said, his voice breaking on the last syllable.

Sanji gritted his teeth to stop from screaming, "_Yes! Fuck me more!"_ There were things that were too embarrassing to say. He wasn't a whore or a sex-freak, but Zoro made him want to cry out again and again and beg for more. He could feel his ass burning as Zoro picked up the speed; but it was a pleasant burn-more heat and warmth then pain. He mouthed into the quilt, the moans muffled.

Every time Zoro pulled out completely, Sanji felt the afterglow throbbing and an intense feeling of need and emptiness which ached in every corner of his body. His mind screamed _More_! and _Fuck me_! His own greed was arousing. And it was fulfilled when Zoro compiled and jerked his hips in, sending that heat reverberating throughout his body. Only six or so inches in, but feeling so damn deep and large-Sanji felt like he could feel Zoro's cock hit the back of his throat.

"Sanji-Sanji-", Zoro panted, "You're so fucking hot-_Jesus-"_ He felt like his cock was being suffocated inside of Sanji's ass which had a temperature roughly equivalent to that of an inferno. And it felt good-it felt like the best- Zoro felt his focus narrowing, zeroing in on nothing but his cock entering, pushing past skin, and muscle, and flesh; and feeling utterly stimulated on every inch of skin. He was going to come; and so Zoro began to thrust only halfway out when he withdrew, going faster, feeling harder and harder.

"Ahhh-Ahhh-Ahhhhhh_-ughhhh_—Zoooroo-_ZORO-",_ Sanji was nearly yelling, gripping the bedsheets with one hand and with the other-masturbating hard. He couldn't think anymore-there was nothing but that immense feeling of pleasure and the constant reiterum of FUCK ME-FUCK ME- FUCK ME-FUCK ME-that pounded deliciously through his head.

"Sanji-_oh shit_-oh fuck-yeah, _I love you_ Sanji-I love you-_I love you- love-you_-", Zoro wasn't even aware of what he was saying. He felt so large and hot and ready that he thought he was going to explode and splatter gallons of come around the room.

"Zoro-yeeesssss-ZORO-", Sanji opened his mouth to say, _I love you too, Zoro, I love you too, so much, _but what came out was just mangled cries and moans. It was impossible to string more than two words together. He was leaking, he throbbed in his own hand like a heartbeat; so hard and so aroused, it felt like he held his own heart, warm and steaming with blood, in his hand.

"Sanjiii-Saaanjii-ughh-oh, god-ahgh-aghg-_aghg_-", Zoro was erratic, he felt the intense whiteness of orgasm reaching, climbing, overtaking his senses, leaving him powerless to do anything but allow it to swallow him whole. He didn't have energy to even thrust back in an out again, and he settled for dry-humping Sanji's ass, moving up and forth on him hard.

Sanji felt Zoro's front side humping him, and the image itself was enough-the climax which had been extending its feelers around him already, lurched forward and enveloped him. As always, that feeling of being tied to a balloon and soaring into the very heavens only connected to his earthly body by that pleasure-that feeling of his body being squeezed and squeezed and his brain freezing. Even his thoughts were moans. The hot semen on his hand burned.

Zoro came seconds after, his mind locked and burned. Like getting high, except more concentrated, more pure, more pleasurable, more powerful. He went rigid as he felt his come be released inside of Sanji, and then he couldn't think any more, it was impossible. The word in his mind dissolved and became an image-a naked body, an upturned ass, and blonde hair. Then he was crashing down on the body beneath him, and neither noticed that they were still connected.

It was a few minutes before there were the first signs of movement in the bed. Sanji stirred, and reaching a hand down, wearily pulled the pillows from under his hips, so that he could stretch out flat; he had some trouble, now with Zoro's added weight, but he managed. The simple act tired him out again, and he lay still for another thirty seconds or so.

"Hey-", Sanji nudged the body above him, "Hey, Zoro-get off me will you?" He could feel Zoro inside him still, and though it was still warm and pleasant, it also felt strange.

"Yeah.", Zoro pulled out slowly and rolled off to the side, all his body felt strained, as if though he had done a heavy work-out routine. His arms and legs felt weak and at the edge of quivering with the strain, as if though through the entire act, the muscles had been contracted tightly, unconsciously.

A few minutes passed.

Then Sanji, taking the initiative, scooted himself closer to the body beside him, "Hey.."

Zoro turned and Sanji nudged forward and kissed him in profile, gently, letting the kiss linger. "That was pretty damn amazing, Zoro."

They kissed again; those afterglow kisses so beloved to lovers. And though they didn't say so, they thought they could taste each other's coming in their mouths.

"Was it as bad as you thought?", Zoro asked, gently reaching down and tracing light circles around the circles of his ass, "You're all red…"

"It was pretty painful." Sanji admitted, "But it's kind of like, now, it's not so much of an unknown kind of thing-I mean, I won't freak out again…And once you were in, the pain kinda took backseat to…the feeling of 'good'"

"Oh…well, if you want, we can try it the other way next time. I kind of want to see how it feels like…you looked pretty damn turned on." There was faint jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah, okay. When?"

"How about November the first?", Zoro asked, a bit sarcastically, "Christ, we don't plan this stuff out, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled, "I'm so damn tired, I can't even think right." He squeezed his eyes shut and experimentally flexed his thigh and ass muscles, expecting bright lances of pain. When nothing happened, only a flare of warmth, he relaxed and stretched some more.

"Let's go to sleep.", Zoro suggested, feeling sleepy as soon as he suggested it. "We have some time-Do you have to do anything?"

"No…", Sanji kissed him again. Small little kisses around and on his lips, "But we're covered in joy juice."

"Let's take a bath then."

"Together?"

"Hell yeah."

"All right then.", Zoro rolled off the bed and stretched, "Let's use the master bath in the guest room-it has a Jacuzzi tub."

"We're going to end up having some kind of sex aren't we?", Sanji muttered, smiling.

"That'd be a good guess."

"All right." Sanji watched as Zoro padded out of the room, still nude, presumably in the direction of the guest room. He affectionately glanced down at the bed, where he had finally made love with Zoro, and not knowing why he did it, Sanji slowly straightened the quilts and rearranged the pillows in place. As he did, Sanji saw the come, drying fast, splattered in a rough line half-way up on the bed and other small spots.

He reached up and dipped his finger in, then brought it to his mouth, flicking out his tongue and running along his finger, liking the semen from it, leaving it clean. It tasted…like the smoke from a bitter cigarette. He could live with it.

Sanji felt the beginning heat in his belly and groin as his mind followed that line of thought; and he quickly headed out after Zoro, smiling as he went and following the sound of running water.

~0~

Dedication: For B Sparkles of course. Thank you.

~0~

_**A/N: And now that you've read this, pay me my fee. You know what I take. **_

A few things of note-

The names of people are slightly changed, i.e-"Rob Lucchi" becomes" Roberto Lucchi" etc. This is because it's AU and because I like it. *smile* I know I never mentioned it before-but because they were never introduced formally. But they go by their 'real' names to their friends and to most others. Smoker's name = Condriano Fumador ; comes from the G8 arc with the Condriano guy whom Robin masquerades as. Hella funny. XD His last name, Fumador, is 'Smoker' in Spanish. CP9's names: Kaku Montaña, (last name means 'mountain' in Spanish, because of what they called him in Water 7) Kalifa Borbujas (Last name means 'Bubbles' in Spanish), Jyabura Lobo (Last name means 'Wolf' in Spanish), Kumadori Leon (Last name means 'Lion' in Spanish). Fukoroh Tecelote (last name means 'Owl' in Spanish), Blueno Puerta (last name means 'Door' in Spanish) They're not all Mexican; they're just names that fit so I could give them last names.


	16. Shadows Rising

_**Chapter 16  
**_Shadows Rising

I still maintain the hope to be able one day to not hide the wounds  
That hurt when I think that every day I love you a little bit more  
How much time will we have to wait?  
I'm dying to hug you, and for you to hug me hack fiercely  
I'm dying to entertain you and for you to kiss me  
I wake up, cuddled to your chest until the sun appears  
I'm losing myself in your aroma; I'm losing myself in your lips  
Which are approaching, whispering words that reach this poor heart  
And I feel the fire igniting inside; I'm dying to know you fully  
To know what you're thinking inside, to open all your doors  
And defeat all those storms that seek to destroy us  
To see in your eyes my own gaze, to sing our souls together  
To kiss each other until our lips wear away from the use  
I'm dying to know you fully, to know what you're thinking inside  
To open all your doors, and defeat all those storms that seek to destroy us  
_-"Sin Miedo a Nada", Alex Ubago and Amala Montero_

~0~

_How's the ass?_

No 'good evening honey'. No 'are you okay, was I too rough?' . No 'Talk to me baby, tell me how you're feeling.' It wasn't even in the morning, when such a question would most logically have occurred. It was evening; the shadows were already beginning to lengthen. It was as if Zoro had forgotten completely about having sex yesterday and only barely remembered.

_How's the ass? _

Zoro had even added the little emoticon that looked like a face squinting and sticking it's tongue out at the side as if he was disgusted with the entire subject of asses. Sanji believed it was made with a capital 'X' and a capital 'P'.

Nothing else. It wasn't even 'how's _your _ass?'. It was 'how's _the_ ass'. AS if Zoro had so many butt cheeks at the tip of his fingers that he didn't even deign to personalize them all since he had a veritable army of round globes at his back and call. It was just-

_How's the ass? _

Sanji stared at the three words-and let's not forget that emoticon- for a few more timeless seconds as they floated on the lighted screen of his iphone, and then he burst out laughing at his own thoughts. They were _that_ ridiculous.

Ahhhh…He _loved_ that man.

Still smiling, Sanji took a quick inventory of his personal aspects and of the more intimate locations of his persona.

Every time he twisted it hurt. Every time he bent down it hurt. Every time he stretched it hurt. And Sanji seriously did not want to know what was going to happen to him if he needed to undertake a necessary bowel evacuation. The thought itself was nauseating. He texted Zoro back with the answer.

_It doesn't hurt. _

Seconds later, his reply came in- _Then we didn't do it right. _

Sanji barked more unwilling laughter, amused at the baseness of it all in spite of himself; texted '_stick it'_, decided that that might send the wrong message and changed it too, '_YOU didn't do it right. my turn next time'._

_Fine with me. Anything weird happen?_

_No. It's all good._ Sanji knew what Zoro was asking-if there had been any show from the group of thugs that went by the alphabet soup agency name of CP9. Sanji half-expected them to show up in the middle of the night, bundle him into the trunk of a mobster car and spirit him away, but nothing had happened so far. Though he knew that didn't it _wouldn't._ '_Now, leave me alone-gotta make dinner. At the Baratie'_

_Okay. Call ya later. Love . _

Sanji tossed his cell back into his pants pocket and started getting out the necessary kitchenware and utensils for dinner's preparations. Though he cursed every time he dropped to his knees to get a particular pan or pot from the bottom cabinets when it would have been so much easier to just bend and stretch for them.

It _hadn't _been his first time and it _didn't _hurt.

But it _had _been his first time and it _did _hurt.

He wasn't mad at Zoro though. Far from it. Even his brusque text messages- which Sanji knew did not contain even a _shred _of apathy and were the furthest thing from uncaring-made him happy because they had made him laugh and because he wouldn't have had it otherwise.

And so every time that soreness flared deep inside his butt muscles, something inside flared too, as if in sympathy and consolation. A warm flash that had its origins in no clear anatomical organ. Lest sweet, pleasurable memory be considered an organ. It was such an exotic feeling for him; and he was proud of it.

The pain was his much-loved battle scar; it was there because Zoro had been inside of him, loving him, correction_-fucking _him. How the _hell _could he even be mad at Zoro for that? And personally, Sanji would happily hurt every morning like this if that was the price he had to pay for the ecstasy experienced last night. Or, to be specific-last afternoon. Why _was_ it that sex is usually associated with the night? He'd have to look that up.

Anyway, all in all, he had had been rather relieved now that it had been done at long last. Relieved… excited…wondering why in the hell he had put up such a fuss in the first place. But then, that was what was always felt after the first time.

Except it _hadn't_ been his first time. But it _had _been. And now what had been discovered at high cost could now be prospected with leisure. Sick as that metaphor was, it was undeniably true.

And with all that Zoro had told him, it seemed that the man needed something to keep him happy, or at least preoccupied. And a good fuck always seemed to put things right, well, at least that's what _he_ always thought. And Zoro would need a lot of good fucks to keep him in the green, because it seemed to Sanji that Zoro's life had just split up the seams and ripped wide open. Poor guy was paddling in that legendary ten-feet deep shit creek without a paddle now.

What kind of life must the other man be living now? Sanji didn't even want to know. Only eighteen and already worried to death about whether or not he was going to see one of his friends' faces staring up at him from a cheap rate funeral casket, surrounded by white chrysanthemums which smelled horribly like embalmer fluids.

Maybe nothing as merciful as that.

Zoro had told him that they had to be careful, that any slip could cost Sanji his safety. Sanji had scoffed, saying that he would be fine, but inside he had silently agreed. He just didn't want Zoro to see that this shit was affecting him more than he wanted it to. Zoro had enough on his plate then to worry about him too.

Sanji wasn't worried for himself though. Never for himself. It was _Zoro _he couldn't stop thinking, stop _worrying_ about. Zoro who was being watched and who was being considered. What would happen if the next time Zoro disappeared for a couple days, Zoro _didn't_ call him after a while? What then? What would happen if that call never even came?

Worse yet-if there _was_ a phone call, but instead of Zoro's lazy banter, there would be a somber voice offering their condolences on this unexpected and sorrowful tragedy? And at the end of it, instead of a hospital, there would be funerary parlor. Instead of a bed, a coffin?

_Stop that. Stop thinking like that. You have to trust him, and hope for the best. You'll get nowhere if all you think about is Zoro dying! Fuck, he told you all this shit yesterday and you already have him stiffening slowly in the last stages of rigor mortis! You're a fine piece of shit, Sanji Blackleg. _

Sanji gripped the handle of his long flat frying pan where he was grilling shrimp, until his knuckles fairly turned white. But he _couldn't_ stop thinking about it. That was the problem. The human mind is naturally morbid-it eagerly gnaws on the bitterest fruits the psyche can pick. It is this Mr. Hyde part of every person which gleefully imagines the boogey-man in the closet and the ghouls and ghosts in the darkness of the stairway.

No, he couldn't stop imagining Zoro dead. What would it be like? The question rang in his hand in a sort of morbid fascination.

Worse than losing an arm or a leg. Worse than any possible bodily amputation. Even the loss of his hands seemed trivial compared to the potential loss of his lover. Sanji had a brief- but intense- image of a strong hand plunging through his chest, seizing his bloody heart, swaddled in layers of grey tissue, and ripping it out, letting vessels and arteries trail out like wistful hands, straining back to reach their home.

Worse. It would be worse…it would be like…_like losing All Blue_. Yes. Like losing hope, dreams, happiness. Everything that had ever mattered and that would _ever _matter. Like losing purpose, losing motivation, losing _himself_.

_I have to stop thinking about this or I'll go crazy. Concentrate on your damn cooking! _

Sanji nodded to himself, _willing_ those thoughts to go, to leave, to take a fucking hike and leave him in peace. Because he was seriously starting to give himself goosebumps. Shit. All this crazy talk was going to come back to haunt him. Sanji felt like he had just stepped on a crack and broken Zoro's back. _Would_ these thoughts _never_ leave?

And to his relief, they finally did. At least for now; but he could feel those traitorous thoughts lurking in the darkest corners of his mind, ready to invade at the next opportunity. Sanji threw himself wholeheartedly into his cooking, hoping for a welcome distraction.

Sanji dumped roughly a pound of cooked, pristine white, long-grain Jasmine rice, Mahatma brand! from a glass pot which had been cooking on the stove for a while now, into a large bowl. He was making his famous _Arroz del mar._ It featured a veritable seafood medley-shrimp, clams, oysters, octopus, squid, lobster, and fourteen different kind of fish; fried and cut into small, scrumptious morsels and dumped atop a mountain of Jasmine Rice. The final touch was a sprinkling of the House Sauce, a concoction made by mixing sweet and sour sauce, soy sauce, honey, and something that Zeff had claimed he had killed seven men to keep a secret.

It was around 6 in the afternoon or so. Late enough so that the sun had disappeared, but not late enough so that's its afterglow had disappeared as well. And in the Baratie, dinner was being served.

Sanji finished frying the medley on the large Mongolian-BBQ style frying pan and proceeded to dump the large mass on a large wooden chopping board. Pausing, of course, to remove the shells of the various shelled species. Then the chopping began-quick, the movements of his hands moving with scientific finesse. Zoro would have approved.

The aroma was delicious. And distracting. Forgetting completely, Sanji bent down quickly when a steaming bit of crab fell from his board and landed between his black, polished dress shoes. A corkscrew of pain; the kind you get when you overwork a tired muscle after a day of strenuous exercise and try to rework it the next day, flared dully in his ass. Sanji lips peeled back as he hissed quietly between his teeth, cursing his idiocy and cursing his ass for being so weak.

Sanji decided to designate this as a no-sex day. Not even if Zoro wanted to be the hole this time. Sanji definitely did not want to have his ass complaining heatedly all the time he was fucking Zoro.

Fucking Zoro. He even loved the ring of it. It sounded like the hit song on the world's most perverted album, it was that great. Four beautiful syllables of need. Being fucked hadn't been half-bad. Had been _damn_ great in fact. There was _something _about being filled, about being taken; that was addictive, exciting.

But if that was true, which it was, then the same could be said about the opposite. If there was something in being taken; then there was something _else_ in _taking_. Brutal as it sounded, brutal as it _was_-it was exciting, hot. Zoro, panting, out of breath, a brown hand covering his mouth to stifle the cries, just like he had in the tub.

Selfish dickhead.

Or maybe that was the wrong term-

Hot and hard dick head.

Selfish mosshead.

There, that was better.

After sex, they had clambered good-naturedly into the tub, Zoro had turned on the warm water, and it was slowly beginning it's task of covering their bodies with warmth.

It had been his idea, of course. He had crawled up to Zoro, his ass still warm, not painful, but feeling empty somehow, pretending to want more kisses, even to himself. Zoro had compiled, opening his mouth and letting Sanji nibble on his lower lip and lick a line from his chin to the top of his forehead.

Zoro's outstretched legs were a problem, however; and Sanji pushed them apart without a moment's hesitation, scooting himself inside the narrow space quickly. Zoro chuckled softly, finding something amusing in the whole scene.

"You look like a puppy trying to get between its owner's legs.", Zoro had murmured, reaching out and ruffling his blonde hair. Then came the realization of _what_ he had just said, and be laughed some more, but the want shone nakedly in those black eyes. Though Sanji knew it was a want that would never be expressed, a desire which would never be spoken no matter how much it burned and throbbed in its owner's mind. And for that, Sanji decided to fulfill it.

One inch of water. Sanji could judge the amount without even looking. Feeling the water, but not feeling the coolness on the backs of his hands. Give it five minutes or so before it reached the base of Zoro's dick. It was like the world's most perverted hourglass.

Sanji's eyes dropped down to the object in question, which was hardening and rising right in front of his eyes. And he directed his gaze back up to meet Zoro's;. And a smile which could only be described as devious and that he couldn't hold back from creeping over his features bloomed on his lips. Zoro just shrugged as if to say '_what? I can't help it if you look at me like that.'_

It propelled him, that need, that desire; and he backed up a bit. His head was descending before Zoro's eyes had even fully widened. And the cock was in his mouth before it was even fully hard. And he was sucking before either of them really knew what the hell was happening.

Zoro had gotten his name out once, but only once, before that damn hand had plastered itself to the owner's mouth, and all Sanji could hear was the buzzing vibrations, the muffled cries, the blows and puffs of air against the palm of the cupped hand. Zoro's other hand went to the side of the tub and gripped the edge of the tiles which surrounded the large oval shaped tub and gripped for dear life.

Sanji just did his thing.

He was too much of a cook to not notice that the motions were almost identical to those of sucking a Big Stick popsicle on a hot day. In order to keep the melting popsicle from melting and running down the sweet length and turning his hands holding the stick end into a sticky mess, it was necessary to open the mouth and envelop as much of the popsicle inside of one's mouth and to suck hard along its entire length in attempt to suck as much moisture from the popsicle as possible.

And repeat.

He, too, grew hard. Maybe it was the thought that what had been in his ass was now in his mouth. Hey, the more the merrier, right?

Sanji didn't know what to do with his hands. Should they be placed supportively on Zoro's thighs? Massaging the base of his dick? Jacking himself off? _Knitting?_

They ended up remaining in the water.

Well, at least Zoro liked it. Not that _he _hadn't. Zoro came before the water had gone more than three inches. Sanji had felt the coming, but he plowed grimly on, refusing to back off and to leave Zoro abandoned like that, knowing from experience that it sucked when that happened. Then his mouth had filled, and though Sanji wanted to swallow, his throat locked. Much like a person's throat locks right before a spoonful of medicine goes down the hatch, and which they know is good for them, but will be undeniably nasty.

He ended up spitting Zoro out into the rising water, and then ducking his head and rinsing his mouth. The warmth flowing in and purifying him, cleansing him. The taste wasn't horrible, but he just couldn't swallow. At least not now, not this moment.

"Not bad.", Zoro had whispered approvingly, as if Sanji had just handed him an A+ paper, "I thought you wouldn't."

"You think a lot of things, Zoro", Sanji had answered, smiling softly, "Many wrong." He spat again. Zoro didn't look offended that he hadn't been swallowed, at least that hadn't been a problem.

And that had been it, at least as far as the sex went. Maybe he would be the one on top next time, maybe not. It all depended on how things went. He would love to fuck Zoro, but just as strong was the want to get fucked by Zoro. He was like a kid who loves vanilla, but really wanted to try chocolate. Maybe he would try the new flavor next time, or maybe he would chicken out and flee to his much-loved vanilla when the moment for picking came.

Did he always try to incorporate food in his metaphors? That must be the cook within him talking-

_Shitake mushrooms…When I think about Zoro, he's either dead or we're fucking…I'm messed up…_

Sanji nearly dropped the plate of _Arroz del Mar_ he was carrying when the screams erupted in the sitting-down portion of the Baratie. Followed by a sound that froze Sanji's heart for a second, then made it lurch painfully forward. But his mind refused to believe it, it was too dramatic and too goddamn _impossible_ for this to be happening to _him_ for fuck's sake.

Zoro would have recognized it instantly. He probably even would have been able to tell Sanji what type it was, and who was shooting. Only certain people could get their hands on those particular weapons. But Zoro wasn't here and Sanji had been very young when he's last heard those sounds.

"_Oh…my gaaawd he's-got-a-gun!", _the high keening wail spiraled out in the air, dispelling all his illusions immediately and galvanizing him into motion. It was Roxanne, one of the daily patrons of the Baratie; the normally beautiful soprano was unrecognizable, panic and fear scraping it raw.

_Oh, fuck. What is this shit? Robbery? Are we being fucking robbed? _Sanji's mind numbed with apprehension and a cold fear as he moved swiftly toward the dining room area, not even deigning to look over at the large knife rack on the counter, knowing he would never dare to defile them in combat. His legs would be enough, they always were

The doors weren't more than fifteen feet away, but by the time Sanji had pushed them open to reveal the chaotic scene in front of him, the fear that spiked up reflexively at the sound of the gunshots had faded into the boiling, burning temper that he had been notorious for ever since he had learned to smoke.

_How fucking dare-dare-anyone rob this restaurant?_ Sanji's temples throbbed, the cigarette in his mouth jutted out angrily, and he burst through the doors ready to fuck up someone up so bad, they'd be carrying his babies for a while. In the regions of the would-be robber's faces, mountains would rise, islands would submerge, and continents would drift. They'd have to identify them by their dental records-

Tumultuous applause , seeming both discordantly out of place and perfectly natural, suddenly exploded just as Sanji entered the room, though he could only see a large crowd crowded away from something in the middle. Further cries of triumph and relieved euphoria erupted from the crowd. And for an absurd second, Sanji thought that they were applauding his entrance.

Sanji shoved his way through the mob, confused as fuck, and demanding, "What the hell's happening here?", of the customers, though it wouldn't have done much good for him if they answered because he didn't pause to hear their answers, but kept moving forward to the center of the mess.

There was a large crash followed by cry of pain intermixed with anger , followed by a loud round of applause from the restaurateurs, and a large booming voice, that could only be the large idiotic cook Patty, rang out triumphantly, "If you have no money, then you can't eat! That would be an insult to every customer!"

Sanji's mouth twisted into a grimace as he heard Patty's stupid and heartless philosophy pump through his overheated mind. Thankfully, his heart had gradually stopped its loud beating, anyway-he already had an idea of what all this was about.

Sure enough, when he finally entered the circle of anxious spectators, Sanji saw Patty, one of the Baratie's cooks, who had spent ten years in jail prior to his culinary career at the Baratie, if Sanji was to believe the rumors floating around.

Patty indeed looked very much like a criminal, if you wanted to be stereotypical. Tattoos covered his burly arms, and his torso was thick and meaty, the kind of stuff that makes pro wrestlers famous. The cook also sported a military-esque buzzcut and large eccentric sideburns which grew all the way into his beard, also closely shaved.

And the fact that he was currently standing over a prostate man, kicking him hard, repeatedly in the stomach as the man grunted in pain, certainly wasn't helping his civilian image any. Though it did wonders for his reputation.

Carne, another one of the Baratie's cooks, who was watching the show with a scrutinizing and, Sanji was glad to see, sympathizing eye, turned towards him. Carne was shorter than Patty, and not as heavyset, but the whole cooking staff knew that the man was out on parole from a big jail up North for something that involved poison, prostitution, three hundred pounds of cocaine and the CEO of a huge hotel chain.

The cooks of the Baratie were something else. Though they were neither Water 7 nor Enies Lobby. They all lived outside and drove here to work. Except Zeff and himself. Though why he was thinking about something like that at this time was a mystery he couldn't fathom.

Sanji could figure out what had happened, or what had _tried _to happen from the mess on the floor, but Carne was happy to fill him in. "Sanji! We have it all under control sous chef. That guy-", Carne pointed at the man on the floor whom Patty had finally and mercifully stopped slamming his steel-toe workboot into the man's unprotected side and now was bowing happily to the applause and wolf-whistles of the delighted crowd.

"-he suddenly walked in, sat down in a chair, just like an ordinary customer, 'cept his clothes were all raggedy and he didn't look like had a penny to his name, so when he ordered some food, Patty asked him if he money. That's when he pulled out his gun and shot at the ceiling. As a warning,", Carne pointed eagerly to the ceiling, where there was indeed a sharply defined hole staring blankly down.

"And he said, 'Just feed me or I'll kill you.'. That's when Patty took him out. What an idiot, he could have been killed.", Carne said this last with an undeniable satisfaction. Sanji nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving the two men in the center; Patty was now picking up the limp form of the man on the floor and proceeded to sling him over his meaty shoulder. Sanji stayed where he was, smoking quietly and thinking, a nagging sensation that he was missing something bothering him.

The diners gave Patty another standing ovation as he picked up the gun, ejected the casing, and spilled out the cartridge into his hand; dropping the dismantled pieces into the front pocket of his apron with a look of contempt stamped over his features. Then he ambled off towards the back door exit which opened up to the empty parking lot outside with the would-be criminal swinging forlornly from his shoulder.

Carne and the other cooks, meanwhile, were making their rounds among the dining room, apologizing profusely for the disruption and helping to straighten tables and pick up the mess, making sure to assure customers that all the food and wine which had been overturned and spoiled on the tiled floor would be replaced free of charge. Waiters hurried out with mops and brooms.

Sanji didn't move, and as Patty passed him, smirking openly, he realized what had been bothering him. When Patty had been kicking the would-be diner, the man had been facedown, and he still was since Patty was carrying him in such a way so that the stranger's nose was bumping against his slab of a chest. But the jacket on his back was now revealed clearly.

The twisting red serpent on the back, emblazoned on a steel grey background was too familiar to be forgotten. And as Sanji's eyes widened at the recognition, Patty passed him grinning, obviously mistaking his surprise for respect and envy; and Sanji, ignoring him, turned quickly to follow the back of the jacket with his eyes.

Sanji knew it would be there before he actually saw it-the yellow bandana which hung despondently from the man's light grey jeans, folded just right so that its emblem- a large black hourglass showed with pride.

He could hear Zoro's voice inside his head; lazy and amused. It had been when they had been hanging out completing their flour baby time. Sanji had wanted to know more about the gang life and Zoro had complied willingly enough. He had mentioned something about those that carried the yellow-Sanji racked his brains to remember the exact words, and after a while, they came.

_-And there's this guy, he's Italian or something….Big crime boss. They call him the 'Don'. It's a title of respect, means 'Mr.' or 'boss'. So they call him 'Don Kreig'. And fuck if he isn't an idiot. He has a lot of guys, but all of them are small-timers, nothing special. I mean-_Zoro's rich laughter reverberated in Sanji's mind-_ his fucking second-in-command is a high school kid! I mean, how low can you go? Oh, this is rich, you'll like this Sanji-You know the kid in our class? His name is-_

"Gin.", Sanji murmured, "His name is Gin." And he started after Patty, the back door was in the kitchen he had just recently vacated, and he walked quickly there, making a note to finish up his cooking when he was finished feeding Gin.

Yes, feeding Gin. Because this obviously hadn't been an attempted robbery of the usual kind. Or at least the treasure Gin had been seeking hadn't been of the paper kind, it had been of the bread and meat variety. How starved must the man be if he had come in with a gun? How insane? Why couldn't he have just stolen some food from the local grocery?

And another question-Just how long had this been going on? Sanji thought back quickly, remembering how Gin had looked more and haggard the past week and a half in class. And with a start, Sanji realized that Gin hadn't even _been_ in class for the past few days. But then, Zoro was in that same class too, and thus, sufficient reason for distraction.

Sanji found Patty at the sauce station, surrounded by the cooks, who were listening to his detailed account of the incident with no small amount of worship.

"-And so he says, 'I got money all right. Got change for four bullets in the head?' All cocky-like. And that's when I say, 'No money, eh?' and _he_-"

"Patty! _Patty_!", Sanji interrupted, "What'd you do with him?"

Patty first glared at him for interrupting, then deciding that Sanji had enough of his evil eye to punish him sufficiently, grunted, "Dumped him out back. Didn't even bother calling the police-let him crawl away from here." The cooks cheered.

Sanji nodded and made like he was heading back to his station, and when no one was looking, all immersed in Patty's story, or busy with their own cooking, he seized a plate of his _Arroz del Mar _and quietly slipped out the back door. He didn't want trouble for Gin. As for the other cooks, high class ex-criminals, they _might_ be, but he would like to see one of them manage to take him. He knew it, and what was more important, _they_ knew it too.

Zeff, stroking his pigtailed blonde mustache thoughtfully, and standing unnoticed at the great double doors which separated the kitchen from the dining area, was the only one to see him go.

~0~

Gin was still outside, though Sanji would have been surprised if he _wasn't-_and presumably still exactly where Patty had slung him down, because it didn't look like the man had moved an inch. It didn't even look like he _could_ move an inch. Sanji was quiet, and Gin did not hear the door open and close silently, nor did he sense that he was no longer alone.

Sanji heard him cursing underneath his breath, raining insults, death-threats, and eternal damnation upon the cooks and the restaurant itself, pausing to hitch in uneven and broken breaths, thick with pain and tears before sending up a prayer that Patty would rot in hell if there was a just God in heaven.

Sanji hesitated, unsure, held back by the unmistakable malice the other person so obviously felt towards his and his kind, but then he heard something that broke his heart again, and wiped all hesitance from his mind. This time, Zoro might not have recognized it instantly, might not have _understood _instantly, but Sanji heard, and did.

He set the still-steaming plate of _Arroz del Mar_ right in front of Gin's face before the second growl of hunger rang out. Sanji's own stomach clenched in sympathy, as if it, too, remembered. And he sat down heavily near Gin, leaning his back against the outside wall, struggling to keep the memories at bay, to keep the painful nostalgia from overwhelming him.

A pained, sobbing cry broke from Gin, a sound Sanji would not have believed could come from a man's throat, and then Gin had seized the fork Sanji had laid beside the plate and began to bolt the hot and fragrant rice and seafood down. He was messy and the food spilled everywhere, but Sanji bore this patiently.

"Don't eat so fast or you're going to throw up if you do.", Sanji said, his eyes watched the moon, it was full, and beautiful, and admiring it allowed Gin some privacy. "Especially if you haven't eaten in a while."

He knew this from experience. Knew _everything _from experience. When they had been picked up, Sanji had thrown himself on the ship's pantry and gorged himself, feeling like the numerous shelves would not be enough for the stomach he wasn't sure existed anymore to be satisfied with.

But he had gone too long without food, and his stomach had lost the ability to digest. Everything that had went down, ended up back outside, soggy, but otherwise intact. Ever after, he had forever sympathized with Tantalus, of Greek mythology, he of the purgatorial punishment of having food and drink forever out of reach at the tips of his longing fingers, forever tempting and tantalizing.

But to his well-meant advice, he only received a grunt from Gin, thick with tears, in reply. Though Sanji hadn't expected more-knew, too, that Gin was _unable_ to stop eating, even if he had wanted too. Sanji understood completely. Even if he had known it would have made him worse, he, too, would have done the same thing he did when they had been finally rescued.

Memories… Memories… They were flooding back relentlessly, determined to remind him of what had happened so long ago. It was hard not to think about it while he was watching another hungry man eat ravenously, a grown up version of him.

A hunger so deep that it seemed his stomach had expanded to all the digits of his extremities; a hunger so deep that his entire torso was numb. A hunger that had grown to mammoth proportions, so big that his own flesh, stuck to the bones, started to look good. So empty it felt like he had turned to glass, with nothing inside. So utterly empty. An emptiness that hurt.

_That is what losing Zoro would feel like_, Sanji thought numbly, _It would be like that island all over again. _

"_So good_…So fucking good…delicious- deli-delicious…", Sanji was interrupted out of his thoughts by Gin, who still eating, more slowly now, but determined to eat everything. He sounded weird, and Sanji knew immediately why. Gin was crying.

Sanji smiled, and a warmth filled him, dispelling the previous thoughts and regulating the memories to their proper place in the past; he had done his job as a cook-he had fed the hungry. He turned his face up to the moon again, gracing it with his biggest and most since smile, and then he said-

"It's good, eh?"

~0~

"Thank you."

Gin was looking at him seriously, with a gratitude so deep it could have been called worship. They were seated in Sanji's living room.

After Gin had finished eating, he indeed had a brief struggle with his stomach to keep his food down as Sanji had predicted, had fucking _foreseen_. But Gin had won, and Sanji had cheered inside, exultant, remembering that he had not.

After a moment's thought, Sanji had decided that Gin was too weak at the moment to be left alone, and so he had trundled the man, who had protested weakly but had not seemed unwilling, into the backseat of his Lexus.

And so, here they were.

Sanji had the house to himself this night; Zeff usually stayed at the restaurant until midnight or so, making sure all the accounts were satisfactory, and often, the old man went drinking with the other cooks until six in the morning or so. Also, he hadn't made any plans to meet with Zoro, though he usually called the mosshead around eleven.

Sanji glanced at the clock on the coffee table- it was 9:45 PM.

"No problem.", Sanji said, remembering to answer. "Gin, right?" Though he knew it was Gin and Gin knew he knew. It was just the formalities, baby.

"Yeah." Gin nodded weakly. Then added, "Sanji." Yep, Gin was the supplicant, the receiver, in this case. He was not allowed to luxury of pretending not to know Sanji's name. Jesus, when had he turned so cynical?

"Hey…", Sanji said, snapping out of his inner monologue and fixing Gin with a stare, ready to get to the dirt of the matter, "What the hell happened?"

Gin hesitated.

"Hey.", Sanji repeated, "I think I deserve an answer, here. There's no other way I'd be sitting here with someone who stormed into my restaurant not an hour ago with a loaded gun." It wasn't like he was scared of this kid, whether he had a gun or not; but the situation was what it was.

"It's hard to explain.,,", Gin muttered, looking ashamed. He fiddled with the cushion he was sitting on.

"No it's not. Just start the beginning.", Sanji leaned back against the sofa, "I've got nothing but time." Inside, his mind sang, '_butt time~'_ and he immediately thought of Zoro. This caused him to snort laughter, and Sanji waved away Gin's puzzled look.

"All right. I'll tell you because you asked me and because you saved my life.", Gin finally said. It was said in a rush, as if the man was embarrassed. He paused for a second, looking like he had just been repeating what he had said in his head, then nodded, "You saved my life, you know? I was this close to dying or getting myself killed." He held up his thumb and second finger a breath apart.

"Yeah, I noticed. How long had it been since you'd last eaten?", Sanji crushed his cigarette in the ashtray on the table which was shaped like a fish, and lit another up. He was particularly interested in this question's answer. Though he had to admit it was a morbid curiosity, at best. Sort of like someone who had lost a limb wanting to be the one who had lost it in the worst way possible.

"It's not like that, I had a scrap of food today in the morning, but it's been two weeks, maybe more-that I've actually eaten something more than an ounce.", Gin said, he winced suddenly, and rubbed at his side, "This fucking hurts."

"Yeah, Patty's an idiot, but he kicks pretty hard." He paused and couldn't help adding, "Nowhere as hard as me, though.", Sanji got up and headed to the nearby bathroom, calling over his shoulder. "Why the hell were you starving? This is Los Fucking Angeles for Christ's sake, Gin. I'm sure you could have gotten something, _somewhere_. Barging into a restaurant with a gun seems a little extreme. At least to those of us who aren't completely insane."

"_It's not like that.",_ Gin snarled, then immediately, "Sorry."

Sanji grabbed a long cloth bandage, some cream, and bandages in the bathroom cabinets and headed back toward the living room. "S'okay. You've been through hell, and sure I saved your ass, but you don't have to suck up or anything." He placed the materials on the table and sat back down.

Gin nodded in thanks, then looking like he didn't want to, he let out a short laugh. It was short and harsh, but there was genuine humor in it and Sanji liked him for it. "All right. Thank you. Again. But it really isn't like that. Just forget about. Trust me, you won't understand it…People from Eneis Lobby rarely do." He pointed at the bandages, "That for me?"

"Yeah. Use them. But I think I'll get it. So tell me. Try me on.", Sanji invited.

Gin sighed, "It looks like you won't let me out of here unless I tell you everything."

"Correct."

"All right. And for the record-you're _nothing _like the Sanji I imagined you'd be…Okay, I think you and half the school, know that I'm in Don Kreig's gang. I _am_ Don Kreig's gang. I'm his right hand man.", this was said with unmistakable pride. Gin slipped off his grey jacket with another wince, and shrugged the matching grey sweat band from around his hair. "The Don's a pretty big name in Water 7, you know, gang wise."

_Not to Zoro_, Sanji thought but nodded.

"But…two weeks ago, I don't even remember…something happened.", Gin paused, "Well, actually it'd been happening before that, but it didn't affect me, directly." He started to hoist an arm up to shrug out of his shirt then let out a cry of pain, gritting his teeth hard, he gasped, "It fucking hurts like hell to lift my arm."

Sanji got up and moved towards him, "Here, hold out your arms."

Gin looked surprised, "…why?"

"I'm gonna help you take off your shirt, idiot.", Sanji said, waiting patiently in front of him.

"Uh…no, that's okay. I'm good.", Gin coughed nervously and Sanji suppressed an urge to kick his face in and break his nose in the bloodiest way possible. He'd gotten so used to being so comfortable with Zoro and at this stage of his relationship with Zoro, he didn't think he was too fond of homophobia.

"Hurry up. I'm not playing games here.", Sanji said, the edges of his words curling into a snarl, as he stood staring down at the dark head.

Sanji, that overwhelmingly masculine and childish urge to always be the biggest, have the best, have the most, etcetera; arising, was impishly satisfied to note that Gin was nowhere near as handsome as Zoro, though Sanji still didn't consider any males handsome except Zoro. Gin had hair just like Zoro's, except it was an inky black. But there the resemblances ended. Gin was a normal looking guy, he had dark, tinctured skin that gleamed oily and a pair of thick lips set underneath a proud Roman nose.

Gin, meanwhile, seeing Sanji was far from joking and even _farther _from wanting an eyeful - held out his arms, looking amusingly like he was salaaming the cook. Sanji seized the back of his dark green shirt, scrunched the material in his hands, and pulled it off easily.

_Zoro would have a heart attack if he walked in right now. _Sanji thought, amused. And for the first time since he had seen Gin, Sanji wondered what Zoro would think when he found out about this. Wasn't he after all, helping one of Zoro's enemies? Or rivals? But the day Zoro objected to feeding a hungry man out of some self-righteous rivalry, was the day that Sanji left him-love or no love. That was just the way things fell.

Gin was studying the carpet, obviously uncomfortable with his nakedness in a stranger's home, so Sanji jabbed him sharply with a finger to remind him that he had a story to continue.

"Huh?"

"Keep on going.", Sanji reached for the bandages, "And before you refuse, shut the fuck up and let me put these on you." Knowing that if he phrased it any other way, then his offer would be turned down, no matter how much pain Gin was feeling.

"O-Okay.", Gin said, his voice shaky, "Well, you might not know who this is, but there's this big-shot down in Water 7, we call him Mihawk."

Sanji started slightly at the name, recognizing it instantly, though he thought it better to keep quiet about how much he _did_ know about Water 7, thanks to Zoro. He quietly twisted the cap off the Vaseline and dipped his fingers into the chilly lotion. Gin would most definitely bitch about this, but the man needed to be healed. His whole right side looked purple.

"Mihawk had been picking on us-on Kreig's guys- for weeks. Nobody else, just us! We were fucking pissed. He'd cut them up with the little knife he carries around his neck-he'd slit their damn throats." Gin's hands gripped his knees fiercely.

"And the Don, he was getting pissed, he talked about going after Mihawk. Then, one night, me and a couple of my guys were out, walking, we weren't doing nothing."

_Right. _Sanji thought wryly, _Guys like you Gin, and I'm not talking about Water 7 people when I say 'guys like you'…they're only out in the night for a few reasons…none of them legal or moralistically sound. _His fingers scooped up a chunk of the Vaseline.

"And suddenly, Mihawk was there, cutting everyone up-I ran, and by the time we were miles away, it was only me and two others. And, Sanji-there were ten people there. _Ohhh,_ that feels good…", Gin winced again and turned his head away as Sanji gently rubbed the cold gel over the huge purple and red bruises blossoming on Gin's side.

_Zoro would most definitely have a stroke if he walked in right now._ Sanji thought again, gingerly working the cool Vaseline over Gin's hurt side. _I mean, I'm kneeling in front of a half-naked man with a can of potential lubricant in my right hand and some of it already covering the fingers of my left. Hell, he'd shit bullets and then kill Gin and then kill me and then kill himself. It'd be a bizarre homosexual love triangle homicide suicide. Sounds right out of a National Enquirer magazine. _

It was enough to make him bark a short laugh, shaking his head at Gin's questioning look. Maybe it was funny because a part of him _did _feel like he was cheating on Zoro. Maybe he _was_ cheating on him, in some weird, twisted way. At least Gin wasn't bitching, Sanji wasn't exactly thrilled at having to rub Vaseline on another guy that wasn't Zoro.

"But then, Mihawk caught up with us, I don't even know how the fuck he did it. He was just _there_, and I _knew_, I _knew_ I was gonna die.", Gin closed his eyes tightly, no doubt remembering the night that he had so truly thought was going to be his last

"I almost fucking did. I forget exactly what we said-it seems like a dream, a fucking _nightmare_, whenever I think about it now. I called him something-government dog-it's hard to explain, but Mihawk works for the Man. We look down on those guys. _Ouch_."

Sanji grunted a apology, but he concentrated on wrapping the bandage around Gin's torso. Except this required a loose hugging motion which he wasn't exactly ecstatic about. Sanji half-expected Gin to start complaining again, but the other man didn't. And after a slight pause he continued.

"Mihawk slashed me open. I blacked out. I would have died-bled to death if the other guys hadn't gotten me away. And they were only able to because, this guy-", Gin suddenly trailed off and froze.

Sanji also froze, thinking that he had hurt Gin. But Gin, eyes wide, turned his head slowly to look at him, his mouth slightly open.

"What? Gin, what is it?", Sanji lifted his eyebrows, Gin's face was too close, kissing distance the romantics might have said and that absurd feeling of _cheating_ was back, nagging at the back of his head. Sanji wished he could move back, but his hands were holding the bandage half way wrapped around Gin's torso and he was helpless.

"You're-You're _Sanji_.", Gin breathed, "_Sanji Blackleg_." His tone was one of someone who has just realized something very important, something important like his ass was on fire and his hair is catching.

"Yes, we've established that.", Sanji answered, his eyebrow still lifted, the curl nearly disappearing into the thatch of yellow that fell messily over his head.

"I-it's nothing..well, it is-but, I'm not sure…you and Zoro-the bet-oh, _shit_.", Gin dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

Sanji felt his heart skip a beat, a slight pause in which the whole world felt very distant and faraway, unimportant. He didn't understand half of what Gin was babbling, but he had heard the 'you and Zoro' very clearly. Too clearly. Hadn't Zoro assured him that _nobody _knew about them? _Absolutely _nobody? They had even stopped talking in public ever since the flour baby unit had ended, and that had been nearly a month ago. So what the fuck had happened?

"Gin? _Gin!_", Sanji snapped, "What did you say? What about Zoro?"

Gin just shook his head and groaned again.

Sanji desperately wished he had a third arm so he could shake the idiot, or better yet, a pelvis made out of rubber so he could give him a full-round kick to the face, "_Gin! _Tell me."

Gin finally looked at him , his eyes were wide and naked, determined, scared, "Sanji-you saved my life."

"So show some fucking gratitude and tell me what you mean-what's this _shit _about me and Zoro?", Sanji demanded, knowing that he was being too obvious, not caring. Heart pumping too fast.

"Let me-let me finish what I was saying first. I need to, uh, collect my thoughts.", Gin took a deep breath, and let it out in a long whoosh. "I swear to God I'll tell you when I'm through."

Sanji hesitated and then agreed, "Fine". His mind confused, racing-if Gin knew about his relationship-his _sexual _relationship with Zoro and wasn't running away from their own intimate position and proximity, then something was up. Or Gin _didn't_ know anything. But then why all the drama? Why all the groaning and head-banging? Nothing made sense. He would wait, be patient, and maybe this whole _thing_ would sort itself out before he knew it.

Gin closed his eyes and groaned again, "Jesus…what a fuck up."

"Hurry up and finish.", Sanji muttered, finally continuing to wrap him up. Feeling like he wanted to just kick the guy, not heal him.

"All right. Well, as I said before-my guys were only saved from Mihawk 'coz another guy showed up-Zoro. You know him, he's in our class and Shanks made you two work together for that thing."

"Worst time of my life.", Sanji said automatically. He felt like he was going to throw up or have diarrhea. Or maybe both at the same time. He was all weak inside, his words felt completely artificial, lies all the way to their rotten core. Sanji could already hear Gin's next words, '_Sanji. Everyone knows you guys fuck. We think it's the funniest fucking thing on Planet Earth.'_

"That's not what Zoro says.", Gin said, with obvious reluctance, "Look Sanji-everyone knows you guys-"

_Oh-dear-god-and-jesus-and-the-holy-ghost-this is it-goodbye old man I've had a good life, tell Carne that he can have my sous chef touge-_

"-hang out all the time.", Gin finished, oblivious to the inner turmoil raging in the man beside him.

Okay, not as bad as he thought, but bad enough, "What? How the hell did that happen?" Sanji didn't even bother denying, if Gin knew, which meant _everyone_ knew, then it was too late to do anything. But how could Zoro have been so _stupid_ to let it slip? It obviously hadn't come from his side-he hadn't told a soul.

"Look, let me finish, okay? I swear I'll tell you." Gin looked at him pleadingly, "I just gotta tell _someone_ all this shit I've been through." And then, obliviously, astoundingly, "You have no idea."

"Hurry up.", Sanji grated, feeling as if Gin would never finish before he busted a blood vessel from all the anxiety and what's more- feeling no urge to trot out the golden oldies of his own starved and misshapen youth.

"Okay, so Zoro ended up talking to Mihawk, had themselves a chat or two I guess. I heard later that they ended up dueling with swords in that same alleyway and he-Zoro-lost and got sent to the hospital. The one I was at, too."

Sanji nodded impatiently; he had heard of this story before and though it was admittedly fascinating, he had no desire to hear it again at this particular time. At least he had finally finished wrapping the long white cloth around Gin's chest, and he clipped the ends together with what felt like a numb hand and sat back.

"I got out of the hospital all right-it wasn't that deep of a cut, but the Don was pissed off at me anyway. He said I should have been more careful, that I had made him lose face with all the other gang bosses. It was true, too. They were like vultures in for the kill. We had more attacks those two weeks then we had altogether in the last year. Even our name was a joke. Our territories were moved in on, and we didn't have enough men to take 'em back, thanks to Mihawk. Your _friend's _boss-Blackbeard-took a huge slice of the Krieg pie himself." Sanji did not care at all for the way Gin emphasized the word 'friend'.

Gin slammed a fist on his knee, and immediately flinched, "I was second in command, I had cred, I had respect-_notoriety_…and now I'm next to shit on the ladder. And the Don, he dismissed me. Kicked me out of the gang and spread the word on me. No one was supposed to talk to me, no one was supposed to help me out. I had no money, they stole everything in my house, even the food, my parents were furious."

He took a deep breath, "And every time I managed to eat something, I'd get beat up by couple thugs and forced to throw everything back up."

Sanji winced.

"But I still had the gun the Don gave me. I woke up in the morning today and I decided that I was going to eat even if I died.", Gin finished, "You saw the rest."

"Why didn't you just go the grocery store?", Sanji muttered, "You would have gotten something there easier." The story was impressive, no doubt, but he wanted to know why the hell Gin knew about _him and Zoro._

"I don't know.", Gin admitted, "I was hungry and half out of my mind and the Baratie was the first place I thought of. Mostly because I'd never been there-I always wanted to go, could never afford it though." He paused, "Maybe I wanted it to be the last food I tasted before I kicked it."

"So that's it?", Sanji demanded. Rude, he knew, a rather vulgar ending to an otherwise poetic tale; but he couldn't wait any longer. _He needed to know._

"Yeah. Except I don't know how the hell I can keep living like this.", Gin sighed and rustled his hand through his Zoro-like hair, "Won't be long before they're after me again."

"I might have an idea about that.", Sanji interrupted, "And one that'll save your sorry ass. But first tell me why the hell everyone knows about me hanging out with Zoro."

"All right…but first, just answer this-", Gin looked at him seriously, "Do you think he's your friend?"

Sanji, feeling a dread coil in the pit of his very being, contemplated saying 'no', not wanting to sink deeper into this quagmire of truth and lies, but he wanted Gin to tell him everything with complete honesty, so he might as well set everything out as it was. "Yes.", he answered, "I think he's a very good friend. Maybe my best friend."

Gin nodded, as if he had been expecting this, "You might want to light another of those up." he said and pointed at the cigarette in his hand.

Sanji decided that the sound he was hearing was the sound of his world crumbling around his ears and he lit another Camel up. After a second's thought, he lit up two.

~0~

The large, abandoned warehouse where Blackbeard had agreed to meet them was on the outskirts of Water 7. It used to be the storage building for old and junky cars, and Zoro could still smell the rusty metal and spilled gasoline intermixing with the more recent aroma of dust and disuse.

No one was here yet, the large warehouse remained in a death-like stillness and in spite of himself, Zoro was thankful that Ace was here with him. They had arrived on Zoro's black Harley, neither mentioning its role in the far and distant bet; as they had more serious, pressing matters on hand. Zoro had parked it in the alleyway and they had quietly entered through a side door which they had been told would be open. And it was.

"Let me do the talking, all right?", Ace said, looking around the dimly lighted space. It was late in the afternoon; the sun had disappeared completely, and Zoro wished that they'd had the sense of mind to have brought flashlights.

"If you want. I'm not the talker here. Anyway, we've already decided what we're going to tell him, and you and I both agreed on it.", Zoro replied, squinting his eyes and trying to discern what the black shape in the corner was; after a second or so, he decided it was just the dismantled bumper of a car leaning against the wall. "So you know I got your back.

"What if he refuses?", Ace asked; they had gone over this before, but hadn't come up with a satisfactory answer. And Zoro suspected that Ace was just talking to hear the sound of his voice. He understood. It was quiet in here, _too_ quiet. He kept expecting to hear the X-files theme song start up.

"He _is_ going to refuse.", Zoro answered, his voice sounding more confidant than he felt. "It's our job to make it a compromising refusal."

"Okay, then.", Ace said, he moved around, making sure Zoro's back stayed to his, "Christ-when is that guy going to _get_ here? This place gives me the creeps."

"Who knows…", Zoro concurred silently and applauded again his decision to bring his last sword with him. Though Ace had complained to no end about holding on to it while they rode.

"Maybe he's not coming…?", Ace pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open, "He's ten minutes late."

"I think that he's supposed to be ten minutes late. Sort of a 'put you in your place' thing.", Zoro answered, loosening the katana in its white sheath and flexing his fingers and forearm muscles in expectation.

"That's stupid.", Ace muttered. "He should-"

That's when the lights switched on, bathing the room with their bright yellow glow, making the two men throw reflexive hands up to cover their dark-adapted eyes. "What-", Ace cried out.

"Zhe-ha-ha-ha-ha! Sorry I'm late boys! I had to deal with some business on the other side of town.", the laugh was unmistakable, that harsh, guttural voice likewise. There was no doubt-Blackbeard was here.

"That's fine.", Ace called out, lowering his hand and turning around in the direction of the voice, "We weren't waiting long, Blackbeard." His tone was polite, formal; and Zoro silently applauded. Ace had too much pride to kowtow and suck up, but he wasn't stupid enough to be rude.

Blackbeard was walking from the direction they had entered. He might be a crime boss worth millions with mansions, sportscars and bitches, but it would be downright impossible to tell from his looks.

Blackbeard dressed like a hobo. There was no politer way to state the simple fact. He wore a large, flapping white button-up shirt which was opened to reveal his large hairy chest and immodest beer belly; and a pair of dirty green shorts decorated his lower body, looking straight out of a thrift store clearance rack. A pair of large black shoes and various thick, solid gold rings with gems to large and vulgar to be anything but real finished him off.

He was alone.

"Blackbeard, I'm sure you've heard about all this shit with Lucchi and his CP9. And about Smoker.", Ace walked over to him and Zoro followed. Zoro kept his hand on the sword hilt; there was something wrong about this situation, he couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something definitely _off._

"I have, Ace. CP9's been wreaking havoc here in Water 7.", Blackbeard grasped a flask that was clipped to his belt, uncorked, and took a deep swig. "What do both of you want? I'm a busy man."

"We're here because CP9 and Lucchi have been threatening everybody, us included. They said if we don't cooperate with them then they're going to fuck with our friends.", Ace's voice was quiet and controlled but Zoro could hear the anger pulsing underneath it, and not all of it directed at CP9, necessarily, "And naturally, I thought, as our gang leader, that you need to take responsibility for some of this."

_Be careful Ace…be oh so fucking careful with what you say to him. The man's dynamite just waiting to happen. _

Blackbeard took another swallow from his flask, which Zoro presumed was filled with some sort of liquor and pointed an accusing finger at his friend's bare chest. "_Responsibility? _This isn't some kid's game, Ace! We're not kids playing gang for fun! When you joined, you knew the shit you were getting into."

"Yes, but we also joined because you offered protection for everybody who added their name to yours.", Ace answered, ignoring the finger with its large ruby ring enthroned on the last knuckle.

"Ace-you don't understand. You can't come crying to me when things get rough.", Blackbeard said this with the air of a patient teacher attempting to explain a tough problem to a child who was willing, but stupid.

"No-I understand perfectly,", Ace said politely, but what had been left out rang out as cold and clear as though he had said it, '_It's you who doesn't understand.'_, "But the same goes for you then-you have to protect us all the time-even when things get rough."

"I advise you to watch that tone of yours.", Blackbeard whispered, but his tone was so full of malice that it sounded like he snarled.

"I'm sorry.", Ace said, not looking a bit apologetic, "But Blackbeard-we can't let this happen. Our friends-_your followers_-are in constant danger now. CP9 can use them to attack each other, spy on the gang's activities, try to assassinate you even. _We need your help._"

Blackbeard took another swig and then threw the black glass flask at Ace's feet. It shattered instantly and the rest of the liquor sprayed the floor, some of it wetting Ace's black motorcycle boots. Ace's face did not so much as flinch and neither did he back up one centimeter. Zoro had time to think that he would have made a _phenomenal_ poker player before he realized that they really _were_ in a poker game, except the stakes were much higher and they happened to play with human lives for poker chips.

Oh, and they played for keeps.

"And what the hell do ya expect me to do? Murder them?"

"There's only two options here, one-you stop making people carry out their duties, so that they won't be arrested-" , Ace began.

"No.", Blackbeard interrupted, "I can't do that. For the gang. If we stop working, then we're going to drown in our own vomit. And anyway, CP9 isn't legal; they don't operate under anything remotely legal. They'll pick up one of our guys whether they're sniffing coke or helping some old lady cross the street."

Zoro started subtlety, he had never thought about that.

Ace didn't skip a beat, "Okay. Point taken. Then that leaves option two-put some pressure on the people who control CP9-make them leave."

"Now you're thinking.", Blackbeard scratched at the hair on his belly, "Me and the others-Lafitte, Burgess, the Doctor, and Auger are looking to that. "In fact. We've already spoken to CP9 and to Spandam-the guy who's in charge of them. We've already started making arrangements."

Ace knew better than to ask what they were, "All right. Forgive me my rudeness, but I just don't want people to die."

"I'll see to it, Ace.", Blackbeard grunted and then smiled, showing his abused and incomplete set of teeth in a jack o' lanterns grimace of a smile that both Zoro and Ace cared nothing for, "You've swayed me, kid. I'll make sure that ya have nothing to worry about soon." And incredibly, he dropped them a sly wink, as if the three of them were all in on a very amusing, yet slightly disturbing joke. Zoro decided he cared less for the wink, then he did for the ghoul's grimace, if that was even possible.

"Thanks…Dad.", Ace said, Zoro couldn't see his face, but it sounded like he gagged on the last word. He would have too, if he had to call Blackbeard that.

Blackbeard grunted, "Don't call me that. I never call you my son, do I? Remember, I just adopted you so that Newgate would give me the money. We got nothing between us."

"All right.", Ace didn't sound too perturbed and he turned abruptly, "Then we'll see you around Blackbeard. Call if you need anything. "

"Get out of here.", and as they were doing so, "Wait-Roronoa."

Zoro turned around, wary, "Boss?"

"Heard you got in a scrap with Mihawk."

"I lost."

"Got a big name now.", Blackbeard said, looking at him intently.

"I don't care.", Zoro shrugged, remembering his mantra-the less words said around this man, the better.

Blackbeard laughed harshly and flapped a hand at them, apparently dismissing them from his exulted presence. They exited the building hurriedly, made sure that everything was empty, that there was no cars in sight, parked or otherwise, and mounted Zoro's Harley. Ace put on the second leather jacket, completely oblivious that months ago, Sanji Blackleg had worn the exact same one.

Seconds later they were out in the cold, fresh, air, letting the wind ruffle through their hair, and speeding through a night which seemed endless and alive with brooding malice.

~0~

They stopped by the local Taco Bell and ordered some soft tacos and a Volcano box apiece. It was seven worlds away from Sanji's cooking, but Zoro would take what he was given. Speaking of Sanji-it was now around 9 PM-he still had time to talk with Ace and then call Sanji around 11.

As they wolfed down the junk food, Zoro spoke, "Hey, Ace-something was off about the whole deal."

Ace nodded through a mouthful of ground meat, "Yeah. Hinky. Off. Something definitely was."

"I don't think he's going to do anything.", Zoro confessed, biting into his Chalupa.

"Me neither bro.", Ace shook his head thoughtfully, "Me neither. We're on our own for this shit I'm afraid."

"And he hates your lovely guts, to top it off.", Zoro sipped his root beer, "I can't believe it-your own dad." He'd known Ace was legally Blackbeard's son, not biological of course, for a long time and that Blackbeard wasn't exactly in love with Ace. But the idea of how twisted it was always slightly revolted him.

"Adopted dad.", Ace amended, "I told you about this, remember? Long time ago? My mom died when she gave birth to me, and my real dad never showed up-that bastard. But one of my dad's friends adopted me, though he never told me who my dad was, and I didn't care enough to ask." He paused to finish up his taco.

Zoro nodded, to indicate that he was listening, and opened up one of the sauce packets, it was a 'Very Hot' kind and it said, '_Help me! It's dark and I can hear people laughing._' He snorted laughter. Though he knew it wasn't the appropriate time to laugh at fast food witticisms per say.

Meanwhile, Ace went on, "Then _he_ died. That sucked, 'cuz I really loved that old man. He didn't even die peacefully like he wanted. Someone murdered him. Everybody said it was because he'd been involved in crime when he was younger. I nearly went insane with grief, I mean-I was only eight or so. He was the only love I knew. And I thought I was going to an orphanage for sure, but that's when Blackbeard showed up."

Zoro nodded again, he remembered most of the story now, but it looked like Ace needed to tell it again. And since he did, Zoro would listen. Sanji would have understood.

"Blackbeard told me that my dad, Edward Newgate, had talked to him on the phone days ago. Said that he thought some of his past was catching up with him and he was scared for his life-he wanted Blackbeard to adopt me if anything happened to me. It even said on his will that he hoped that my custody would pass over to Blackbeard. Blackbeard showed me the paper, except I couldn't read all the technical jargon that much."

"And I lived with Blackbeard from then on, I met Luffy the next year, and then a couple years later I was in the gang.", Ace finished.

"Yeah.", Zoro agreed, "Seems everybody here has some pretty lively skeletons dancing the boogie in the closet." He checked out the other sauce packets, '_Will you marry me?',_ and_ 'The sporks hate me!'. _

"Blackbeard is a bastard.", Ace said softly, and Zoro looked up, surprised. They had insinuated it, they had hinted around it, but they had never, _never_ said it aloud.

"Yeah. He is.", Zoro agreed, "Did you finally figure that out?" He resisted the ridiculous, yet surprisingly strong urge to look around and make sure they weren't being eavesdropped on. Water 7 _bred_ paranoia.

"No. It's just that-", Ace sighed, "I'm going to come clean with you Zoro. I should have done it a long time ago…I mean, we're _best friends."_

"Go."

"All right, Look, I _hate_ Blackbeard. I used to like him, even if he was so fucking cold. Hell, I think I loved him for a bit-I was just a kid, and I needed a dad. But I got over that pretty fucking quick. You know why I joined Blackbeard's _gang_?"

"No.", Zoro admitted, he thought Ace had joined for the money, or because Blackbeard had coerced him into it.

Or for the simple reason that if you didn't have a group in Water 7 then your clock was ticking. Because here, everyone took sides. And you got hurt if you don't. There was no such thing as 'neutral', there was no such thing as peace here in the dark. Anyone who stood up or stood in the way was smashed back down. Come one boys and girls, pick a color, pick a color, because if you didn't get smart fast and join up you drowned in Water 7 where the night lasted in perpetuity and where the shadows didn't all come from the sun.

"I'm in for my own reasons, just like you-yeah I know you don't give fuck one about the gang. But I joined because I saw all these people working together, everyone sticking to each other's side-and I wanted a fucking _family_. For once in my goddamn life, I wanted to feel like I _fucking belonged somewhere_. That's why I didn't say anything when Blackbeard asked me to saddle up and join the force."

Ace wasn't eating anymore, he was staring fiercely at the table, "I saw the gang, and they all wore black even though they had nothing else in common-and they wanted _me_ in. They didn't think I was just some snot kid. I fell for that. I fell _hard_. And…I still don't regret that I joined."

Zoro sighed, "Look, Ace-I think it's great that you wanted something more out of the gang than money. But you have to admit that everybody's in for money, drugs, or infamy. Not for…anything else."

"Yeah, but that's where I met all my friends, that's how I met _you_, Robin, Franky, Chopper…everybody else. And now these people are in fucking danger-I can't leave them. The gang is my _family_. And Blackbeard wants to fuck everything up. Mother_fucker_."

Zoro laughed reluctantly, "You're right Ace…Damn, but you're always fucking right…! So what, now? I have to agree with you-I only joined so I could meet Mihawk, which I did. But I can't deny that that gang has my friends in it. I can't leave them behind either."

"We have to wait. Wait and watch, just like we said we would.", Ace crumpled up all the trash on the table into a ball and shot it perfectly into the trash can near the door. "Let's go. All this talk is making me paranoid-I want to check up on Luffy." He dug in his pockets, "Fuck it all, and top off this lovely week, I lost my lucky lighter…you know, the one with flames surrounding the Ace of Spades?"

"Yeah, wait-", Zoro hesitated, and then plowed on, "Ace…I need to tell you something." Ace had come clean with him, and Zoro thought that the time in which he could enjoy the luxury of secrecy was fast coming to a close. And the more Ace knew, the more he would be able to help Zoro, if, one day, he might need help. He hoped not, Zoro sincerely hoped that things wouldn't get that bad. But everything was different now, more dangerous.

"What?", Ace glanced at him, ready to go.

"I think we should sit down again.", Zoro commented, doing just that. Ace looked surprised, but he sat down again, too.

"What's wrong?"

Zoro thought for a second, wondering how he was going to phrase it, and then he opened his mouth and began to speak. It was an ironic and rather cruel bit of fate which made it so that when he finally told Ace the truth about Sanji; Gin was finally telling Sanji the truth about him.

~0~

"A bet?", Sanji repeated hollowly, not looking away from Gin's black eyes.

"Yeah, everyone knows about it Sanji. I'm not telling this to hurt you or anything-you saved my life and that's why I need to tell you this shit.", Gin grasped his shoulder earnestly, "It wouldn't be right for me to just up and leave. I had to tell you."

"But-I don't get it-", Sanji said, unbelieving.

"Sanji-Zoro made a bet with his friend, Portgas that he'd be able to lay you. If Roronoa did, then Ace'd give him 500 bucks, if Zoro didn't, he'd have to give Ace his bike. That's why he's being so nice to you. You can't trust him Sanji. It'd be better that you cut him off.", Gin looked at him sadly.

"Has-Has Ace given Zoro 500 yet?", Sanji asked softly, his insides felt numb and he didn't think he'd be able to bear the pain it if Gin answered in the affirmative.

"No, of course not-I mean, you haven't, uh, done anything with him, right?", Gin raised his voice slightly in an embarrassed question.

"No, no of course not.", Sanji answered, straining to keep his act together, to try to act cool, nonchalant, as if this conversation wasn't ripping his head to pieces. And then, "I'm not like that."

He didn't believe it. _Couldn't _believe it. But why the hell would Gin lie about something like this? No, he'd have to believe that Gin was telling the truth-not out of naivety but out of simple logic. Because why would Gin know about them hanging out if he was lying?

But Zoro _loved_ him. He was sure of it. No one was _that_ good of an actor. And why would Zoro bother telling him everything about himself, telling how much he loved him, if he was just using him?

_So I would trust him more…It worked, didn't it?_

That was not a good thought. In fact, it was a _horrible_ thought. Sanji crushed one of the cigarettes in his mouth on the fish ashtray. No, he couldn't think along those lines. He loved Zoro. He would have to believe, he would have to trust in Zoro, to trust in him blindly with his eyes closed and his hands up. That was_ love_.

And anyway, if Zoro had just been after those 500 dollars, then everything would have ended last night. Zoro wouldn't have bothered texting him this evening, asking him how he was feeling. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. He half expected the furniture in the room to start floating as gravity disappeared.

Gin was talking, "Yeah, just don't trust him. Tell him to take a hike. He'll know why. The guy's messed up for agreeing to something like that. He's mooching off you completely. He always talks about how much money you give him."

Sanji started again, Zoro had _never_ asked for money. That much, was true. The fact spoke strongly for Zoro. Maybe what Gin had said was true. Maybe there _had_ been a bet in all this fuckery. Probably _was_ if he wanted to be realistic. But s_omething _had happened, something that no one could have foreseen. Something that had thrown everything into chaos.

…Zoro had fallen in love.

It was perfect. It matched. It was so damn corny that it _had _to be true. Sanji stood up slowly, wanting to follow this train of thought, but Gin was still there, waiting. A distraction.

"Gin…can you go? I need to think.", Sanji asked, walking slowly around the room.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I had to tell you.", Gin got up and grabbed his shirt and jacket.

"It's fine. I needed to know.", Sanji headed back and helped Gin back into his shirt and jacket, "but I don't think Zoro would do that…maybe once, but not anymore, he's changed…We..became friends."

Gin looked at him sympathetically, "Sanji. _Trust me_. We didn't have shit to do with each other before, but I owe you my life now-things are different. " He paused, "But you don't understand. You _can't._ Roronoa is going to fuck your life up. _There is no such thing as a changed gangster_."

"I can't believe that."

Gin shrugged, "Okay. Okay. I can't change your mind-I tried. But you'll regret it Sanji.", he slipped on his sweatband, "But thanks anyway. For everything."

"What about you? You're still in the same situation, from what I understand.". Sanji commented. "You going home?"

Gin headed towards the door, "No, if I go home, then I'll get beat up on the way there and I'll have to throw up all the food you just gave me. I'll tell my parents that I'll crash at a friend's."

"I thought no one was supposed to talk to you."

"I'll figure something out."

"Wait., Sanji snatched up a notepad and scribbled an address on the sheet, he tore it off and handed it to Gin, "Here-if you need a place to crash; stay here. I'd offer my place for the night, but someone is coming over for the night. _Someone who's going to have a lot of explaining to do before I'm even remotely satisfied. _

"Whoa-this is in Eneis Lobby. Classy.", Gin said, looking at the address doubtfully.

"Just go there. Not only will you get food, but the person will make sure no one fucks with you."

"All right. Who am I supposed to meet?"

"Just go there.", Sanji ordered, not wanting to explain, "but tell them I sent you. And if they don't want to take you in, then tell him that that's the last rack of barbeque baby back ribs I grill for him."

"uh…okay.", Gin agreed, looking more doubtful by the second.

"Don't worry.", Sanji said, clapping a hand on Gin's shoulder. _I'm doing that enough for both of us_. "Now get out of here."

"Right.", Gin headed out, "Thanks. Here.", he reached for the pen in Sanji's hand and tore a scrap of paper from the black part of the notepad and scribbled something quickly on the back, "It's my number. Call me if you need anything. It's a blank check I'm handing you."

"All right."

Gin shrugged, "There was a time where I would have been able to get you any kind of drug or any kind of weapon you wanted…but not right now. But maybe I can still do something for you."

"That's fine, I wouldn't need anything like that anyway."

Gin turned to leave, and when he did, Sanji remembered something he had wanted to ask, "Wait-"

"What?"

"If Krieg kicked you out, why the hell do you still carry that?", Sanji pointed to the yellow bandana hanging from his pocket.

Gin glanced at it, then there was a pause of a minute or so in which it looked like the man was struggling for a good answer, rejecting some, contemplating others. He finally said, simply, what he had said before, "Because gangsters never change."

When Gin had finally left, Sanji crashed back down on the couch, feeling tired to the very marrow of his bones and confused all the way to the seven stratosphere.

"What a fuckup…."

At least the pain in his ass was fading.

~0~

"You're…friends?", Ace repeated, looking disbelieving and amused all at the same time. At least he didn't look the least bit angry with the long overdue confession, and for that at least, Zoro loved him.

"Look, it wasn't supposed to happen. But, Ace, Sanji's pretty cool. He's not stuck-up or anything like that." But he had been a coward. At the last second, Zoro had decided to keep the information that they were not friends, but lovers, to himself.

"O-Okay…So, what? Zoro, I'm not going to tear off your head.", Ace leaned back against the seat, "Maybe I would have two months ago, maybe a month ago, even. But right now, we're in a shit storm. We gotta keep together. And if Blackleg's your friend, then all right. Do what you want. Just don't invite me to your playdates."

"You're not…pissed?"

"No. I told you-right now I'm too worried about everybody else to be mad with who you play tea party with.", Ace shrugged, "It's kind of funny actually."

"Oh…thanks.", Zoro sighed and closed his eyes in relief.

"So…what do you want me to do? Call off the bet? Though you turned me down the other time."

"No, don't do that. It's what I use as an excuse to…to hang out with Sanji.", Zoro said, feeling a little embarrassed in spite of himself.

"Oh, that's why. All right. So just call it off between us?", Ace looked at him expectantly.

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do when it ends?", Ace asked, "We set a limit, remember? November. Why don't you just tell people? They'll make fun of you for a while, but it'll die off, and I don't think anyone will be stupid enough to fuck with you. They might have done more, made a bigger deal out of it; you might have been in some serious trouble before, but now everybody's scrambling to cover their own asses."

"Mid-November.", Zoro amended, "And. no, I can't do that either. That was what I was _going_ to do..before all this shit happened."

"What do you m-_ohhh_. CP9.", Ace looked impressed.

"Right. They won't go after him because they'll think he's nothing.", Zoro finished.

"That works. Up until November.", Ace interrupted, "Then you'll have to 'lose' the bet and not see him anymore."

"I can…but I have to be fucking careful."

"And if they catch you, then they'll know he's someone special to you, 'coz you're still hanging out with him even if the bet ended. You'll be in some _serious_ hurt if they find out. Him too."

"I know there are risks.", Zoro looked at his friend evenly, "and that's what I wanted to talk about. We protect our friends together, don't we?"

"Whoa, whoa. I know where you're going with this.", Ace held up a hand, "You're asking me to keep an eye out for a guy I don't even know and who probably I don't even like?"

"He can fight well enough, Ace. But I just don't want anything to happen to him."

Ace looked at him for a long minute, and then sighed, "I hate you sometimes."

Zoro grinned, relieved, "Thanks, Ace."

~0~

_I think you should come over to my house. I need to talk to you. _

Zoro looked in surprise at the text, They hadn't agreed to meet today. He texted back, already struggling back into his clothes which he had taken off before showering after dropping Ace off at Luffy's penthouse. Damn if that idiot of a strawhat didn't live like Donald Trump. All he needed was the jewels and the hookers. Though Zoro didn't grudge him for it.

_Why? Something wrong?_

Zoro was already jogging out the door when he received the reply.

_Yes, _

After a moment's decision Zoro bypassed his bike and set off jogging. His bike was too obvious, it'd be better if he ran there, more inconspicuous. Especially if he planned on staying the night. Sanji didn't seem anxious-maybe CP9 had paid him a surprise visit. Hopefully, that was _all_ they had done, if they had.

_What's wrong? What happened? Urgent?_

_No. Just get here. _

Zoro set off on a dead run.

~0~

When Sanji had let him in and closed the door, Zoro reached for him, like he always did, eager to kiss, like they always did. No matter how bad things might be, no matter how pressing matters were; he would always kiss Sanji when he saw him in privacy. To make up for all that time he was forced to ignore him.

So Zoro was surprised when Sanji placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, not gently either. More than surprised, _astounded_.

"Sanji-what the hell-"

"Later.", Sanji said, and then amended cryptically, "_Maybe_ later. Come sit down." He walked into the living room.

Zoro followed him, angry, _confused_, "What the hell's going on? Am I not good enough all of a sudden?"

Sanji threw himself on the sofa and gestured for Zoro to sit on the one across, "_You_ tell me what the hell is going on."

"What-"

"All right. Zoro. I want nothing but the fucking truth from you, okay?", Sanji fixed him with a level glare. He had decided to trust Zoro, but first, there was going to be an explanation. And God help the other man if it wasn't good enough. He didn't think Zoro would ever fulfill that stupid bet, and he seriously believed that Zoro _did_ love him. But still-

"Of course-But fucking tell me what happened!",Zoro snapped, the muscles in his forearms bunched in anxiety. And what was that sneaking suspicion in his heart, that dawning_ realization?_

"Fine.", Sanji leaned forward slightly, "Tell me if this sounds familiar…you _bet_ with Portgas that you'd be able to fuck me for five hundred bucks." It was out, and Sanji noticed that it had a horrible melody to it.

Zoro stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, and then fiercely, "_Who_ the _hell_ told you that? I'm going to go and fuck them up to one fucking inch of their fucking life." It had finally come out in the open, and it was as ugly as it had been back then. Uglier. He could hear the very foundations of everything that made up his and Sanji's relationship creaking forebodingly and he willed them to stop.

"So it's true?", Sanji demanded, not surprised, and unimpressed with the profanity.

Zoro leaned forward, his elbows on the top of his knees, and dropped his head into his hands, massaging the temples as if he as a headache, not knowing how closely he resembled Gin at that moment in time, "I should have told you before."

He should have, he knew. But everything had been going too good for him to bring to the light something that didn't even matter anymore. At first he had told himself that he hadn't said anything because he didn't want to scare Sanji off. And from there, it had become too easy to keep putting it off.

"So it's true?", Sanji repeated.

Zoro sighed and nodded, "Yeah…it's true, unfortunately. But before this shit goes on-you need to know this Sanji-_I love you-_you _know _I do. " He looked up.

"I know you do.", Sanji agreed and he burst into laughter, "And that's why I haven't kicked your ass the minute you walked in."

Relief flooded Zoro's features and he let out a short, tired laugh, "Jesus…"

"Whoa there-you're not off the hook until I get the entire story from out of your green head.", Sanji interrupted, "What the hell were you up to?"

"Look-it's just what you heard. Yeah, it started off as a bet. We-our group-were picking on you, 'coz you're everything they're –we're-not. Rich…handsome….smart. Ace bet me I could fuck you. We thought it was funny." Zoro looked slightly sick, and he closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"And…?", Sanji looked at him expectantly, eagerly. This was his favorite part of the story if he was playing his cards right.

Zoro looked up and grinned, "What do you _think _happened? I fell in my own fucking trap! I fell in love with you! This little game of seduction…this stupid, _stupid_ bet…I ended up falling in love _with you_." He paused, "Sanji-if this had just been for a bet…I would have never told you about Mihawk…about Kuina…I wouldn't have come back after yesterday."

He paused again. Looking at Sanji gravely, so gravely.

"I love you."

Simple. _Honest_.

"And it was easier to be able to hang out with you if people thought I was just doing it to fuck with you. Hell, even if we got caught fucking, we'd still wouldn't get busted. It worked, people don't know I care about you-you're safe. And that's what I want." Zoro explained, not looking away.

"I know it was a stupid thing to do and I can't believe that I agreed to it in the first place. But-", Zoro looked across at Sanji honestly, " I don't regret it because…because that's how I met you."

Sanji stared back for a few seconds , then got up silently and walked around the table towards Zoro. Zoro's eyes followed him expectantly. When he was right in front of the man, Sanji reached down, seized the collar of his shirt, and hauled him up. Zoro came willingly, though a surprised, 'what-' slipped through his lips. If Sanji wanted to kick him across the room, he wouldn't fight back-he deserved it.

But Sanji didn't kick him.

The kiss was deep. Hard. Wet. _Good._

"You're forgiven.", Sanji whispered, after, letting his breath tickle Zoro's lips.

Zoro nodded. Still a little lightheaded.

"Come on.", Sanji pulled, nor very gently, on Zoro's arm, in the direction of his room, "Let's do it."

"What?", Zoro followed him, not unwillingly, but there was doubt in his voice, "Don't you hurt?"

"My ass can take it.", Sanji snarled, not liking that Zoro was being old-maid-ish, "Hurry up." _Hurry up before I lose my nerve. Before this feeling of relief so great it's a high, fades away._

His room was large. And his bed was huge, too. It was right in the middle of his room without anything obscuring it. _It's going to be like fucking on an alter_, Zoro thought, and snorted laughter. But his hands settled restlessly on his belt.

At any other given time the room would have been dark, but there was a full moon outside and the room was lit quite brilliantly through the large glass windows. Though the moonlight had a price-it turned all colors black and white, and cast the corners in seductive shadow. Sanji made no motion to turn on the lights or even light a romantic candle.

Zoro turned towards Sanji, and wasn't surprised to see the cook staring back at him, breathing a little faster than normal and he felt like food to the chef. Ready to be prepared and eaten.

Zoro slowly started unbuckling his belt.

~0~

The bed was huge.

Sanji's long legs spread over it easily in a wide v. The limbs strained to their limit. He would have snapped them closed if it wasn't for the strong hands gripping the insides of his thighs fiercely. Sanji had his head thrown back, his chin tilted up the cathedral ceiling which picked up and amplified his own moans and cries perfectly.

His crotch area had been replaced by a fireball of intensity.

It was good. It was amazing. It was heat and fire and love and wet. It was everything divine in a mouth. His mind was blabbering, needy, wanting more. Oh god.

It was too much-he was erect in Zoro's mouth and if felt too good. Too hot. Perfect.

Zoro pulled off him, and Sanji tried not to wail, he struggled up, "What are you doing-"

"I lubricated you.", Zoro laughed, but his eyes were a little too wide, his laugh a little too hard and not quite normal. He pulled Sanji to his knees, "Come on. Do it."

"You sure?" The saliva drying fast on his cock made him shiver. He'd have to hurry for the ghetto lubricant to work.

"Yeah.". Zoro said, and then added, "Go."

"Okay…lie down then.", Sanji whispered.

They ended tumbling off the bed, connected. Neither of them knew exactly how it had happened, but they hit the floor. Zoro letting out a grunt as Sanji landed on top of him.

"Goddamn your tile floors…"

They managed to get up, in a medley of limbs, without Sanji slipping completely out. But on their adventure on attempting to get back on the bed, Zoro tripped and landed halfway face down on the bed. Sanji, feeling like he had waited long enough, shoved on the back of his head when Zoro tried to get up and thrust in simultaneously. Hard.

It was hot. Wet. _Good._

Zoro cried out hoarsely, and then buried his face in the bed so that he could scream in privacy.

This wasn't like the first time. Not at all. He had taken Sanji slow, allowing him the time to talk, to complain if necessary. To bitch as he usually did.

Sanji was making no such reservations.

It _hurt_. But it also pleasured. Sanji's cock slammed in him again and again, bruising. Zoro could feel each fucking inch scrape and slide through, creating a friction which burned and which felt absolutely wonderful. He couldn't even talk, he couldn't even think. There was senseless jargon in his mind which vaguely resembled Sanji's name.

And Sanji simply would not slow down, he was fucking, and fucking hard. The bed's springs creaked and creaked and creaked in a fast tango of lust, and Zoro could feel the bed sliding inch by inch across the floor, with each time Sanji plunged into him.

He heard Sanji panting his name; it turned him on and he ached to ejaculate his come.

How many times had Sanji thrust inside? He had stopped counting at fifty something or so. His nature, trained to count all the times he lifted or crunched, _had_ automatically counted. How long had they been going at it? It was like he had never known anything then being bent over this bed and used so magnificently.

He was being fucked and it was ecstasy.

He felt something wet tracing up his back and he realized that Sanji was licking him, long, hard, licks-and that was enough.

_SANJI-_

He came, his come splattered the side of the bed, some of it hitting his stomach and dribbling on his thighs.

Sanji continued to fuck him for a while before he came; Zoro lay beneath him, panting and bearing the thrusts that still felt good, but now turned his knees to water, feeling a little ashamed that he had not lasted longer. And he cried out again, further embarrassed, when he felt the liquid rush fill him. A strange, not unpleasant sensation.

Somewhere, Sanji was telling him that he loved him.

Zoro turned his head slightly, and he whispered, words that he knew Sanji needed to hear, and that. More urgently, _he_ needed to say, "This wouldn't have happened."

Sanji laid his head down on Zoro's back and smiled.

~0~

They ended up falling asleep together, cuddled naked in each other's arms, too tired to crawl under the quilts, too satisfied to clean up the come. Too stupid to lock the door.

Young love.

So it was just as well that when Zeff came home from drinking with his buddies around five in the beautiful Sunday morning he bypassed Sanji's room without so much as taking a peep in and headed towards his own room to get ready for a brand new day at the Baratie.

He was thinking cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Oblivious to the fact that the next day, when Sanji spread the thick white icing over the nice, steamed brown buns, he would nearly choke from the laughter.

Young love.

~0~

"What are you going to tell your old man?", Zoro asked. He was sitting at the kitchen table, digging into the pancakes, sausages, and eggs piled prettily on his plate; courtesy of Sanji. He really could get used to this-if they ever married. After all, California had approved gay marriage a week or so ago, much to his silent approval.

"He probably won't come down until 7; the Baratie doesn't open until 8-and the cooks will take care of the preparations. And if he does, I'll say we were having a sleepover or something.", Sanji flipped some scrambled eggs onto his own plate and added a few links of sausages. "Coffee or Juice?"

"Juice.", Zoro pointed his fork at him, "Sanji-at our age we don't have sleepovers-we have sex. Which is what we just _did_."

"I'll tell him we went drinking and you were too drunk to walk to your place.", Sanji served him juice; he himself opted for tea.

"You could have dropped me off."

"I was too drunk to think about it.", Sanji reasoned.

Zoro chewed methodically, and then, "It works." He paused. Chewed. Thought. Swallowed. "Anything with beer works, actually."

"Don't even ask me." Sanji muttered and sat down across from him with his own plate. They ate quietly for a few minutes before Zoro looked up suddenly, "You never told me who told you."

"Does it matter?", Sanji glanced up.

"They're going to wish they hadn't."

"His name's Gin.", Sanji commented and went back to his eggs.

Zoro slammed a fist on the table, "Gin! Fucker! Why'd the hell did he tell you?"

Sanji told him, outlining yesterday afternoon's events briefly, wisely omitting the Vaseline part.

"He's not even in a gang anymore.", Zoro said, "That makes it perfect, no one will try to revenge him. And the police won't think much when they find a dead body underneath a park bench."

"Leave him alone.", Sanji said, narrowing his eyes at the man across, "He didn't do anything wrong. And anyway, I sent him to someone that even _you_ can't beat up." The jibe in his words was apparent and Zoro rose to it like a fish to bait.

"Bull_shit. _Who?"

Sanji laughed, and shook his head, "You'll find out soon enough."

Zoro looked like he wanted to argue some more, but then decided against it, "Whatever.", he shifted uncomfortably on his seat, "It hurts."

"Only when you stretch the muscles. It fades away.", Sanji didn't look particularly interested. Neither did he look particularly guilty. Zoro decided to remedy _that_ in a hurry.

"It wouldn't have hurt so much if you hadn't slammed in _so freaking hard!_ ", he whispered accusingly, mindful of the open doors.

"What the hell were you expecting? That we played fucking _chess_ while we fucked?", Sanji favored him with a sarcastic look. "And you did the same thing to me."

"The hell I did! _You_ even told me to hurry up!"

"Quit bitching,", and Sanji gave him a look which Zoro could translate as, '_you're not an idiot, why you acting like one homie?.'_

Zoro gave up and stayed silent for a few more minutes, then his thoughts, straying back to last night and Sanji's large, welcoming bed, suddenly jolted an idea, heretofore unthought, into his mind. "Hey, Sanji"

"Hmm?"

"We-", Zoro dropped his voice, "We-_you-_ didn't use a condom-no protection. You know, wrap it before you attack it?"

Sanji put his fork down, reached over and patted his hand, "Zoro…I know you want to…but don't worry, you're not pregnant." It was amazing how sweetly he said this.

"You're an idiot. I meant-"

"_Neither of us has any form of a social disease_, Zoro.", Sanji interrupted.

"I'm just asking..! No need to get so personal…"

" Whatever.", Sanji changed the subject, "Have you heard anything more about CP9? How's your friends?"

"Nothing so far.", Zoro answered, giving up on messing with Sanji, "We're waiting, and watching…but we have no idea what the hell were supposed to be watching _for._ It feels like they're eyes everywhere, just watching. Moving their forces when we aren't looking."

"Drums in the deep.", Sanji murmured.

And Zoro looked at him sharply, "What do you mean? That's exactly what I meant."

"It's from an old movie-The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien-these dwarves are trapped in a mine and they hear the war drums beating in the dark."

"Trapped in a mine, huh?", Zoro looked down at his plate, not seeming to see the food piled on it, "That's exactly how we feel like."

Sanji nodded and returned to his eggs, not wanting to tell Zoro that the helpless dwarves had all perished, there in the suffocating mines of Moria. If he had been heartless enough to tell him, Zoro would have been sickened slightly, not only because of the gruesome fate of the gnomes, but also because the name would have reminded him of Gecko Moria-another of the schichibukai and the one who worked best in the shadows.

It was all a little disconcerting, and in order to distract his thoughts, Zoro seized a rolled up newspaper from the table. He would read the comics-Get Fuzzy, Foxtrot, Dilbert. All that good shit.

Sanji glanced up, "We get the Grand Line Tribune delivered right in the morning. Zeff usually picks it up when he gets home and leaves it on the table for me so I can read it."

Zoro grunted; drank some more OJ while he flipped it open for a welcome distraction.

And promptly sprayed his orange juice across the table and up his nose when he read the _astounding _title. Sanji cried out in surprise and disgust as he wiped off pulp and Zoro's spit from his face. "_Gah_!"

Zoro was oblivious, transfixed by the front page.

"Oi! What the _hell-"_

**ARSON ATTACK KILLS 13 IN "WATER 7"**

Below the headline was a picture of a side of Water 7 he knew well, though he would not have been able to identify it if the street name hadn't been printed below the picture. The buildings were charred ruins, the whole block looked like it had been an inferno. There were flames still burning in some buildings and there was a veritable army of firefighters, police, and ambulances in the roads beside it.

One of the buildings was the warehouse that they had been at yesterday.

Beside this awful image of death and destruction, was a picture of Ace.

Drums in the deep.

~0~

**Author's note: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. I love you people! **

**Notes:**

**1. The song in the beginning is translated from Spanish, by me. The title 'Sin Miedo a Nada' means, 'Without Fear from Anything'. It's such a beautiful song that it makes me feel like weeping. Definitely recommended. **

**2. Arroz del Mar: Spanish for 'Rice of the Sea'. I'm not sure if it's a real dish somewhere. I made it up from what Sanji served Gin in the Baratie Arc. **

**3. The Baratie Scene: I just wanted to tell you guys about something funny about this scene. The whole time I was writing this scene, when Gin walks in with the gun, I wanted to make it have the feel of the manga, true. But my main inspiration was a little trip I had to San Bernardino in California. I was out there, I forget what for, and I decided to stop by a nice-looking restaurant for a little lunch. I parked my car, got out, and walked to the glass doors. It was covered in bullet holes. I thought, 'Oh, isn't that nice' and I walked in. I ordered and the waiter sat me down near a window to wait for my food. It, too, had a couple of bullet holes, some right next to my face. I asked about it, and the waiter told me that a random car had driven up and riddled the store with bullets one night and then drove off, no one had died or had been hurt because it had been closed. But while eating, I started imagining a whole stick-up scene...and I finally was able to write it (kind of) here. xD **

**4. A lot of pop culture references here and there…all of them disclaimed. **


	17. Sunday Bloody Sunday

Chapter 17

Sunday Bloody Sunday

I can't believe the news today

Oh, I can't close my eyes and make it go away

How long, how long must we sing this song? How long, how long?

Because tonight, we can be as one, tonight

Broken bottles at the children's feet

Bodies strewn across the dead street

But I won't heed the battle call

It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall

Sunday bloody Sunday

And the battle's just begun

This many lost, but tell me, who has won?

The trenches double within our hearts

Mothers, children, brothers, and sisters torn apart

Sunday bloody Sunday

How long, how long must we sing this song?

_-"Sunday Bloody Sunday", U2_

~0~

**13 killed in Water 7. 13 Killed in Water 7. 13 Killed in Water 7. 13 Killed in Water 7. **

**13 Killed. 13 Killed **

**Killed. **

The words beat in his head. Impossible. This was impossible. A part of him clamored angrily inside, '_Wake me up. Wake me up now Sanji, because this dream just turned into a fucking nightmare.' _He couldn't even hear Sanji calling his name, asking what the hell had happened, and would he stop freaking him out? The atrocious heading screamed in his head, and he couldn't seem to focus on anything else, the words beat and blurred in his mind. An awful mantra.

**13 Killed in Water 7. 7 Killed in Water 13. 13 Killed. Water 7. 7 Killed. Water 13. **

"_What the hell_-what Zoro! What is it?", Sanji, finally scrambling from where he sat at the table, and seizing Zoro's shoulder, pulled on him, peering down at the newspaper in the other man's hands. Then he saw the face and the title, and a quiet, "Oh, shit.", escaped him. The tension of his clutched fingers in Zoro's shirt lessened perceptibly as the shock seeped through both their bodies like a freezing poison.

Zoro shook his head dumbly, "He wouldn't do shit like this. This is a fucking lie."

"His name's right there-", Sanji immediately said.

"I don't give a _fuck_ where his name is! His fucking _body_ can be lying next to it with a lighter in his hand and gasoline in the other, and I _still _wouldn't believe this shit."

Zoro was scrambling through his pockets, not even looking at Sanji, pulling out his cheap mobile, dialing like a madman. "Ace, come on, pick up your damn phone, pick it up man , pick it up _please_-"

Nothing. The ringing went on and on, leading to Ace's dirty version of 'please leave your name and phone number after the dial', which at any other time would never have failed to make him laugh, but today, at best, seemed blackly humorous. Zoro slammed the cell shut in frustration, wanting to hurl the damn thing across the room, not doing it, knowing it was stupid and childish. Wanting to do it just the same. "No use. He's not picking up."

Sanji lifted his eyebrow, and shrugged, giving him a 'what are you going to do now' look, he was obviously stunned by the whole situation, but otherwise unconvinced of the firefist's innocence as Zoro was. Memories of his first personal acquaintance with the freckled man, no doubt, were running their own personal marathon in the forefront of his mind.

And Zoro knew the cook well enough to know that the various rumors of Ace's arsonist tendencies were also running their gauntlet in the other man's mind. To tell the truth, it kind of pissed him off. Sanji should know him well enough that he wouldn't be best friends with someone who would have done something like this.

The cook pointed at the paper, it's edges already scrunched in Zoro's death-like grip, the grey print blurring with the sweat and terror, "Then how do you explain that?"

Zoro looked back at the paper; Ace's face seemed so young, so achingly friendly, his smile not one of malice, but of carefree abandon. Ace would never have done this, he was _certain. _Then what? Who? How? It wasn't even a question of why. There were too many whys for someone like Ace D. Portgas.

"Frame-up", Zoro murmured, "That's the only thing that it _can _be."

"A job? By who?", Sanji's tone is skeptic, his manner unconvinced; and Zoro tries his best to not put a cherry on this hideous cake by beginning a fight with his lover. That's the least thing he wants on his plate right now. Sanji was just trying to look at the situation from all angles. Nothing more. But did he really have to be so annoying while he was at it? _Shit. _

"_CP9.", _he grates back, _"_I smell those bastards all over this fuckery. I _knew _they'd try something idiotic like trying to frame us with something. But _fuck_. Thirteen lives? Thirteen _people_? Is this how the fuck they do things?" The rage is pulsing through his body, like slow fire. And Zoro knows he should calm himself before he snaps, he's like a cord with too much tension; and he does something that he'll later regret.

But he can't. _He can't._ Zoro can almost feel the heat of the flames as innocent bodies are cooked alive. The stink of the burning meat is both nefariously sweet and cloying. It is disgusting. It's the smell of justice corrupted beyond something even remotely recognizable. It's the smell of all the corruption in the world, rotting and spilling their insidious juices in the glaring heat of the sun.

Sanji is shaking him, dragging him back into reality, driving all the images away, "Read it. Read it-"

"What?", Zoro says, confused, feels like his thought processes have turned to molasses, he is barely following Sanji's words, barely understanding. The flames from the fire are too hot, too angry for him to concentrate. He can feel the heat baking from between each line.

"The story, dumbass, the story-", Sanji grunts in exasperation as Zoro just looks at him blankly, and so the cook takes matters into his own hands and snatches the newspaper from the other man, feeling the tiniest bit guilty at his rough words and almost apathetical attitude to the news of Ace D. Portgas's alleged crimes. Feeling small and malicious, when he really wasn't.

But someone here needed to have their feet grounded firmly in the Earth, unbiased, ears and mind opened to any eventuality, and Zoro simply wasn't going to fill that role anytime soon. He was too preoccupied, too utterly _stunned_, and Sanji understands completely, with everything. It would have been the same if it had been him who had opened up the paper to see Nami's picture underneath a crime like that.

"What does it say, what does it say?", Zoro demands, finally understanding as Sanji's eyes run over the pictures again, but so jagged and nervy, that he seems to somehow think that Sanji has just read the entire newspaper in one second. Read it, analyzed, _and_ taken notes. Heh. Perversely funny, considering the situation. Everything is.

Sanji ignores Zoro, and tries to shake loose all of the shit that is trying its hardest to clog his mind; why the fuck is it that he thought the weirdest things at the worst times? Sanji forces his eyes to focus on the small print instead, and tries to drive his mind to reading it and transforming the letters to sounds. His eyes glued to the words as they pour like ants from the page, his voice steady, but distant. "Thirteen lives taken in a building and warehouse-

_-fire which began sometime around 10 PM late at night yesterday evening in what was ultimately discovered to be the work of arson. The fire began in a large abandoned warehouse at the edge of the part of Grand Line City which is commonly known to the inhabitants as 'Water 7'-a slang, affectionate term which equates with 'Old Town' in other cities-_

"Affectionate, my fucking ass.", Zoro breaks in, annoyed and frustrated, and slams a hard fist on the kitchen table. Sanji reads on, oblivious and enrapt. It's like reading a massive obituary.

-_The fire then spread to nearby buildings, which included the entire Galley-La apartments and Galley-La Carpenter Plaza-_

"Oh-_FUCK!_"

Sanji looks up startled, a growing dismay rendering his features young again; his small, wafty beard looks ridiculous on a face so achingly youthful, "Who? _Who_?"

"_Goddamn you Lucchi_!", Zoro whirls and crashes his fist into the nearby wall, the tile and plaster easily caving in. Knowing that later Sanji will kick his ass for it, but now, that is the furthest thing from his mind. Not caring about anything. Even the love-pain from yesterday is forgotten. It seems like parts of his mind have dissolved in hatred. Hatred that is old. Zoro knows only of the fire, his friend, and the familiar copper taste in his mouth, somewhere along the line he has unknowingly bitten his tongue and bled.

And he knows one more thing.

Roberto 'Rob' Lucchi's days are limited. The motherfucker has been marked. If he had to crawl on his hands and knees through blood and swamp to finish the bastard off. If he has to commit his first murder. There was no hesitation, maybe there hadn't even been any surprise when e heard that name issue forth from Sanji's mouth like some dread ultimatum.

For his part, Sanji had understood immediately and Zoro has a moment of perfect absurd clarity in which he wonders why the hell their thoughts are so damn synchronized. It wouldn't come as a surprise if they ever managed to communicate telepathically, it already seemed like they shared one mind and one body. The cook had asked, 'who?'.

_Franky,_ that was who. The bluehaired engineer who had a penchant for thongs, heavy gold chains, and Coco-cola. One of his closest friends.

And he wasn't the only one. If that wasn't enough of a hell.

Paulie. The rough looking, yet shy, blonde who literally had conniption fits when Robin or Alvida wore their miniskirts or low cut tops. He hadn't even had his first fuck yet. Ludicrous, the things he remembered when things spun out of control.

Lulu. Him of the green chest tattoos and the weird hair that always seemed to grow in odd places. They had trained together countless times. Swords, even. Though Lulu had only managed to work Two-Sword-Style.

Tileston. He can hear his booming voice blocks away and see the thick ropes of muscles from space. So proud of his ridiculous amount of sheer muscle mass. Slightly thick, but a man with a good heart.

Iceburg. The kind older man who owned and ran the Galley-La apartments and the Galley-La Carpenter Plaza with which he was able to supply good rates for rent for those who were financially needy, and reliable jobs for the unemployed. His blue hair and shnazzy maroon and peach striped shirt immediately solidifying his place in the hearts of the teenagers and the people.

Kokoro, the fat, old kind-hearted woman who ran Iceburgs's paperwork affairs; her daughter Chimney, a little girl with a heart the size of California, and even their funky little clue cat, Gonbe which looked much more like a rabbit than a feline.

There are others; other names, other faces. Maybe people that aren't best friends with him, but were people who had had his back. People. Individuals. Humans with living souls and spirits.

Thirteen killed. Had his friends won that hellish lottery? His hand dug out his phone again, and the texts went out, flying on fear and anticipation. 'Are you okay?' 'Are you okay?' 'Are you okay?' It took all his control to hit the buttons with precision, the shakes he thought he lost when he quit the junk, seemed to awaken in his very bones.

Zoro heard his breath rattle in his chest as he drew in a painful suck of air, his mind too shocked and frayed to remember how the simple biological process of breathing went exactly, "I-There's a couple…A couple that live there-in Galley-La Apartments.", He closed his eyes tightly and moaned softly, "Keep on reading. _Finish it."_

Sanji opened his mouth uncertainly, he wanted to do something, say _anything_, so that the look of utter despair and torment would fade from Zoro's face, and so that the rakish smile he _knew _would resurface in its stead. He would have done anything.

But no, there was nothing he could do. What was he supposed to say that would make everything all right? What the hell could he say to make those thirteen people come back to life? To make the smell of charred flesh, sweet? '_Don't worry Zoro, everything's going to be fine?' _Sanji would have slapped himself for having the naivety to spout such idiocy. _It's all good honeybunch, because we still have each other?' _Like hell he'd be so selfish and insensitive to drop that line.

God, he had never felt so impotent in his whole fucking life. Except for maybe when he had been marooned on the island which had nearly claimed his life, helpless to do anything but wait for fortune to pass by. He had sworn to never allow himself to feel that way again, but here he was. As useless as back then.

That memory brought back his yesterday's musings over what losing Zoro would feel like. The association was more than a little frightening, and Sanji nearly hurtled it from his mind, turning to the newspaper to find a distraction. Though the fresh horrors that lurked in the printed newssheet could hardly be deemed an improvement. He read on. It was the only thing he could do.

-_The fire swept the entire carpenter plaza, but only enveloped one wing of the apartments. The fire was called in around 10:15 PM by a pedestrian who saw the first tongues of flame beginning to consume an empty warehouse in the Galley-La plaza. By the time the firefighters arrived on the scene the fire had already spiraled out of control and had spread across the buildings. Ten people, names not released, working late shifts, were caught in the different business buildings and perished. Three more were asphyxiated in the nearby apartments when the fire consumed that wing-_

Sanji's voice trailed off in horror; the bare facts disconcerting. Zoro, not looking up, his voice quiet, murmured, "Keep on reading." The tone was pensive, musing, horribly dangerous. The voice of a man contemplating murder. "Keep on reading.", Zoro repeated softly.

The chef eyes narrowed at the request, and Sanji felt an indescribable urge to just shove the paper into Zoro's face and hiss, '_why don't _you _read it?'_ He didn't want to read anymore, he just wanted the quiet morning back. That quiet morning in which he had been happy and in which he had been alone with the person he loved most in this world.

Now, their sweet isolation had been lost; there were thirteen dead corpses in this room, a group of murderers, and one hanged man.

So why the hell couldn't Zoro read the damn newspaper by himself? It was the least he could do for bringing this mess into his life. A life where there had been no hiding, no secrecy, no gang warfare, no colors hanging from backpockets, no swords and hospitals. No arsonists, no knowledge of anything affiliation-related.

Nothing. Nothing.

No love, no romance, no kisses which burned brighter than fire, no sex which left him whirling in another dimension, no interest, no intrigue. No life.

It made Sanji realize why Zoro wasn't going to read the story in which the alleged crimes of his best friend were being artfully portrayed. To read it would have made it too real, would have been pure torture. If Zoro had dared to see the words themselves, written in an ink so painful, it should have been drawn up in his own blood, the man would have collapsed.

_Holy shit. Stop thinking! Just…fucking stop. _

_I need to get a fucking hold of myself because this is starting to screw with my head. _Sanji sucked in another shaky breath, and continued, voice trying not to waver underneath Zoro's intense gaze.

-_The perpetrator of the arson attack was positively identified as a socially disturbed, often delinquent high school student by the name of Ace D. Portgas-_

Zoro barked a short laugh at the description; it is unbelievably bitter, and utterly devoid of any form of humor, "Delinquent… Socially disturbed...I can't believe I'm hearing this shit." He spits on the floor in disgust.

_-Not only was Portgas seen at the building where the fire began, but a lighter with Portgas's name engraved on it and covered with his fingerprints and other DNA was recovered from a clump of bushes near the Galley-La charred buildings with the aid of sniffing dogs and was positively determined to be the igniter of the fire-_

Sanji stopped and looked up at Zoro, his eyes conflicted, "Ace's lighter was there-with his fingerprints and everything. Are you sure-"

"I'm certain now." Zoro said, his eyes distant. That Ace's lighter was there he didn't doubt. That it had actually acted as the catalyst which started the inferno blazing, he was absolutely_ certain_. That it had Ace's fingerprints and DNA and whatever else on it, was the truth. What had Ace said-under the greasy lights of some cheap, fast food restaurant?

"_Someday this is turning out to be…I even lost my lucky lighter…"_

Zoro eyes found Sanji's again, "Ace lost that lighter yesterday. I was with him when he realized he didn't have it anymore. It was his lucky one-silver, with his name scratched into it and a fake ruby on the side. I'd recognize that thing anywhere. But I didn't really pay attention at the time he told me he'd lost it…there was just so much going on at the time."

"Someone stole it then.", Sanji mused, one hand wandering into his suit pocket for a smoke, and ironically, for his own lighter. "Which meant that this was planned…and that Ace was already intended to be the sacrificial lamb."

"CP9.", Zoro repeated, "They'd already warned him to stay off the streets, cooperate. Obviously he refused, and this is payback."

"So they've framed Ace neatly enough, from the looks of this shit.", Sanji punctuated the expletive with a disgusted rattling of the newspaper, "Wait, let me see-", his eyes scanned the rest of the sheet quickly, "It doesn't say much more except that Ace hasn't been apprehended and he's basically on the lam from justice and is a wanted man. Requests for information."

"So he's in hiding somewhere? Christ, that's a fucking relief.", Zoro muttered, running a distracted hand through his short green hair, "I was a little scared that you were going to tell me that he was in Impel Down Correctional already, all made up in a orange jumpsuit."

"Well, they haven't found him…", Sanji flipped to the middle of the newspaper, his eyes scanning rapidly, "No…the rest is just a parade of his misdeeds since birth and about the _further_ misdeeds of his adoptive father…huh, didn't know his dad was Marshall D. Teach…Blackbeard-your gang leader?" Sanji looked up questioningly.

"Yeah, but they're not close. Furthest thing from it. Hate each other's guts.", Zoro stared at Ace's black and white snapshot, rendered with all the clarity and ugliness of a mug shot. "I don't expect anything from that quarter. Least of all, protection."

Sanji folded the newspaper and tossed it on the kitchen table, his arms crossing negligently over his chest in a parody of causalness; though he felt like the furthest thing from casual. "I don't understand…why would they frame Ace with something like this? I thought they weren't supposed to kill people? Just threaten to?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that? Think they call me on the phone to-I don't know-_explain_ to me what goes on in their twisted heads, maybe ask my permission to continue?", Zoro couldn't help but add a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Jesus, calm down. I'm just _asking_.", it is hard not to sound offended, but Sanji manages. He isn't questioning Zoro to be a nagger, but to help him. Make him think, jog his mind.

"Well, Sanji. The answer is '_I don't know'_, okay? Anything else?", Zoro throws up his hands in annoyance.

Sanji glares at him, "I'm just trying to help you man. I-"

Zoro interrupts him. "Well, help me by stopping being such a fucking_ skeptic_. You think you understand everything about Water 7 just because you know me, when you don't. You don't live there; they're not your kind." He regrets the words as soon as they're out; the look on Sanji's face actually hurts. And he hates himself when he actually feels vindicated. _Fuck._

Sanji spits his butt out and snarls, "Look Zoro, don't you ever fucking classify me. Don't _ever_ fucking put a label on me again, not if you enjoy pissing with a dick in your hand. Because I thought we put an end to stereotypes considering each other when we fell in love."

It seems that it would sound corny, but it doesn't. Zoro has slowly began to realize something-whenever Sanji talks about love, he rarely sounds cheesy because he says it so fiercely, it sounds more like a war cry, a call to arms.

"All right. Maybe I went too far-", Zoro hold up his hands in apology, his voice is sincere because it is, he does seriously wish he hadn't said anything, even if it does have a ring of truth to it. It is just something that shouldn't have been said, no matter what.

"The hell you did.", Sanji says, his voice is still a whiplash, but there is a slight amusement curving his lips.

"Okay, I did. I'm sorry-I can't think right now, it's too much-"

"All right, apology accepted, whatever. Let's move on."

"You're too good for me.", Zoro says softly, and now there is a light mockery in his voice, a ghost of his usual bantering tempo, but there nevertheless.

"You're goddamn right. So, now tell me, what are you planning?"

"I'm going down there.", Zoro answers immediately, "I'll go take a look at everything, see if everyone I know is okay." He paused, hesitated, decided to say it anyway, even if made everything that much more real.

"See who died."

Sanji nods, "Want me to come? Drive you there? You didn't come here on anything."

"No. We shouldn't be seen together. Especially now, when everything's so off. I'll run over to my house.", Zoro is already struggling into his jacket which he left last night on the couch. It seemed so long ago when he had been sweating bullets, worried half to death on that same couch, scared that Sanji had found out about his impetuous faraway betting. It seemed so unimportant now, there were worse things out there; as he had so unfortunately found out this morning.

Worse things and much better things. There still was a strange pulsing ache deep in his ass; it felt more unusual then painful and would have probably turned him because of its associations, if he hadn't been so fucking preoccupied. Another tidbit to be laid at the doorstep of CP9. A decreased sex drive.

"Then you're going to go find Ace?", Sanji asked, following him towards the front door.

"I don't know. I don't want to go to his house-Blackbeard's. It'll probably be under surveillance. Luffy's too. He won't be anywhere near those places. Though if he wants to find me, he'll find me easy enough." , Zoro finishes zipping up his jacket, and checks his phone. Nothing. It means nothing. But it hurts like a bitch.

"So you're just going to go everywhere, get caught up?", Sanji leaned against the wall next to the French doors as Zoro struggled into his boots, moody, "Christ, I want to do _something_. I feel like I'll just be sitting here with my thumbs up my ass while you're running around in seven kinds of danger."

"I know, but you can't do anything. Sorry, but it's true.", Zoro bit back the next sentence, ridiculously feeling the urge to not be too mushy, '_I don't want you to be out there anyway. You're mine and I want you safe because I love you and want to take care of you.' _Sanji would have fed him his balls. Probably would have made them taste exquisite, too. Damn chef and his culinary expertise.

"Yeah. I get it. I'll keep a look out though, for what it's worth.", Sanji made a half assed motion with one of his hands, obviously revealing his disillusionment with his own investigative abilities.

"All right, you do that. I'm going now, give me a kiss."

"I'd get on my shitty knees and blow you for six hours straight if it'd make you feel any better.", Sanji muttered morosely, but he unglued himself from the wall to give him his kiss.

"I'll remember that offer when I get back.", Zoro murmured, giving him a hard smack on the lips, "You know, I've never been sucked for six hours straight, I might like it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…get out of here and don't get killed 'cuz then I'll be pissed, all right?", Sanji turned around, voice struggling not to drop to the sulky level, and so he doesn't see Zoro watching him, the annoyance struggling with affectionate love. "And don't get hut or anything, 'cuz you scared ten years off my fucking life when I saw you in that hospital bed-"

Sanji has to throw his hands up to keep from breaking his nose and splattering blood all over the vintage wallpaper, and still his palms tingle with the impact, "OI-"

Zoro's voice was hot and tickling in his ear, hands brutally massing his waist and hip, sides and torso, "Let me get this straight cook, all right?"

"What the hell are you talking-" Zoro silenced him by snaking his hand around and palming and rubbing his crotch, hand grinding mercilessly, fingers tickling and massaging. Not a method you can use with small screaming children, yet rather effective. The other hand, slid through his tangled yellow hair and covered his eyes, blinding him, the applied pressure forcibly tilting his neck to the side.

"Zoro- you idiot-_mpgh-ahhhhh_-", Sanji feels the hot breath and tongue graze his exposed neck, and he immediately throws his protests out the window. Some things are just too good to miss; Zoro's tongue is one of them. Zoro's hand is still caressing his cock through his pants bottoms, and it is all in utter darkness. Kinky. Fucked up considering the situation, but they needed _something_ to survive the day.

"Shhh, shut up Sanji-listen to me-that means, no moaning.", Zoro whispered, squeezing his dick in warning.

"Kinda hard.", Sanji panted back, "Stop…the hand…"

Zoro didn't, "Suck it up." His tongue licked his neck again, harder, and then came the sucking, hard and insistent, as if he had temporarily decided to be a vampire, and completely forgotten that he was missing the fancy toothwork.

There was quiet in the hallway for a few minutes, except for two sets of heated panting, and the steady sound of determined sucking. The rub of hard flesh on cloth is too subtle to be heard. Then a low cry. Muffled pleasure.

Zoro tilted his own head a little to admire his handiwork. A purple bruise of love on Sanji's peachy skin, flushed pink and now sweating from his most recent coming. He uncovered the cook's eyes and stepped back, "There you go."

Sanji remained leaning on the wall, presumably for support, his shoulders shaking slightly, "If a hickey and a come load in my pants…constitutes your idea of your master plan…I think you need psychiatric help."

"Hickey's my mark on you. Means I own your ass. You belong to me.", Zoro can't help sounding like one smug bastard. The hickey stands out like a rose, beautiful to him. "You gotta fly your own gang colors too if you want to survive what's coming."

"Wow, why don't you just put the old iron stick in the fire and brand me on my ass, 'property of Zoro Roronoa'?", Sanji's hand lifts up and runs over the purple bruise. "What the hell does this mean? I thought you were going to tell me something serious."

"Just means that I love you. Does it need any other explanation?", Zoro grins at him and cracks his neck nonchalantly, "Thought maybe you were a little jealous that I was running after Ace." The worry in his eyes is dancing just behind the playfulness and its Sanji's time to be annoyed.

"Are you fucking crazy? You're feeling me up and your friend's somewhere, living as a fugitive? Stop worrying about me, idiot! Get out of here!" He literally wrenches the door open and shoves the green haired man out, "Don't come back until you figure all the shit out, you hear?"

"But I was going to tell you-"

"_Idiot. _I know what you're going to say, and for once and for all, I do not need your hand on my dick for me to be comforted.", Sanji stands with a hand on his hip and the other restlessly running over the bruise on his neck, he looks undecided whether he likes it or hates it. Zoro thinks that it's probably both, knowing what a fickle ass his lover has.

Zoro just smirks, "Who says it was for your sake?"

This earns him a smile and a small salute, "Touché."

"All right, I'm going wish me luck." But he lingers, watching the blonde form. Saving up the memory.

"Yeah. Kick ass, all right?"

"I'll come back later, at night, tell you what's up." _Because I want to fuck you over and over and over after this shit is over, and maybe you'll be nice enough to suck my dick a few times as reward for being a good boy. _

"Get out of here, mosshead." _And come back safe because I love you…and because I'm a little pissed you made me come in my pants and I plan to kick you in the face as soon as I won't feel guilty for doing it. _

"Bye!", _I kind of want to fuck you while you're blindfolded; you're so hot when you're vulnerable, and you don't even know it. I just want to tie you up so you can't fight me…and just eat you up. _

"See ya.", _You're probably thinking of something perverted aren't you, idiot?_

~0~

It was hard getting to the scene of the destruction, even on a motorcycle which usually fit in places where ordinary cars couldn't even hope to go. But the streets around Galley-La were clogged with an abundance of vehicles, the majority being police cars and firetrucks, though more than a few ambulances and construction trucks were also parked near on standby.

Bottom line; was that Water 7 was teetering on the verge of anarchy. Maybe that was a little farfetched, but the place was riddled with gangs and supernovas, he wouldn't be surprised if martial law was enacted in order to ensure the stability of the area.

After waiting nearly ten minutes in line, without moving so much as an inch, Zoro finally gave up and parked his ride along one of the more emptier alleyways, behind a large dumpster, which had once been a rather verdant shade of green, but was now the no-color of old rusty corrugated tin. The dumpster had seen better days; perhaps that could be said for most of Water 7.

He parked and slid the leather jackets slightly underneath the dumpster; his bike would be hard to steal, owing to the fact that it weighed over two hundred pounds, but his jackets were real leather and presented an easy target for anybody who just happened to be walking by.

Basic Water 7 thought.

Even if he had parked a little less than a mile away, and even if he had the worst sense of direction possible, Zoro doubted that he'd get lost this time. All he had to do was follow his nose to reach the scene of the crime. The smell of fire and smoke stung in his nostrils, an acrid accumulation of everything that was bad in this world going up in flame.

The smell increased in potency with every step he took and by the time he could see the blackened remains of what had been left of whatever CP9 had done, it was nearly suffocating. It must have been downright impossible to breath right next to the actual buildings, and maybe it was just as well that Zoro never got that close, the area was swarming with cops and other suits, a clear, definable perimeter established, which beyond, no normal civilian could have crossed. All rubberneckers were being held back, though a good many were snapping souvenir photos on their cell phones.

Zoro was wondering if he should just chance it and try to break past the cops to the ruins, and likewise wondering what the hell that would accomplish if he did manage to do that, it wasn't like he could sift through the rubble himself with his bare hands to find the recognizable ashes of his friends; when he felt his cell phone buzz with an incoming text.

It was Franky. Oh dear sweet _mother-_

_I'm fine. So is everyone else. No one we know kicked it. Idiotberg's slightly injured. Brats okay. Paulie fine. Monster Mom drunk. Lulu and Tileston great. Have you heard? Where's Ace? Where's you?_

He had to re-read the message a few times for the meaning that _no one had died_ to sink in. But when it did, his knees wanted to unhinge with relief. Maybe it was a fucking selfish, hell, it probably_ was _selfish, but that undeniable feeling of '_better them than me'_ was too strong to fight. Let someone else cry for their lost ones this night, he'd be celebrating his own victory.

Zoro hit the 'call back' button, his blue haired friend picking up almost immediately, "Franky, man!"

"Zoro, bro! Sorry, I would have called you right away, but I didn't even think to check my cell-"

"Hell, _forget that_. I'm just fucking_ relieved_ that no one_ died_. I saw all your fucking _obituaries _when I saw Galley-La in the paper."

"Nah, bro. That idiot, Iceburg, scratched himself up a little, but only because he was stupid enough to try to help others out of it.", Franky's voice came through, loud and jovial as always, "But he'll be all right."

"That's great Franky.", Zoro knows that Franky would have died if his bigger brother had been seriously injured or killed in the fire, even if the bluehaired man would, now, never admit it. "And the others?"

"I already told you-", Franky began.

"Tell me again. I feel like I want to hear it over and over.", Zoro closes his eyes and lets out a relieved whoosh of air.

"They're fine.", He can hear Franky pause, hesitatingly, "Maybe we should talk about Ace, instead."

"You know he's innocent Franky.", Zoro has a moment of tired wonderment in which he wonders just how many times he will be proclaiming Ace's innocence before the day is out. And a deeper sense of dread that also wonders, wonders just how many times he will be believed.

"I know, tummy wrapper.", Franky likes to call him this, ever after he had walked in on Zoro training with his _haramaki_, a Japanese sash which was supposed to control his body heat and offer support while he lifted weights. He personally, hadn't seen the humor in it, but with Franky, you never knew. "But there's a whole shitload of people that believe it. They seriously think Ace did it."

"_What!_ That's fucking ridiculous, no matter how you look at it! Who the hell are these people?", Zoro can hardly believe the words that are coming from the phone, can hardly believe his own friend. This is beyond ridiculous. It is utter shit.

This was the worst fucking joke life had played on him so far. He feels like someone's standing next to him with a gun at his temple, saying: Choose Zoro! They're all alive, but all of them think your best friend tried to kill them! Or they all died, but they perished believing in Ace's innocence! You can only have one, so pick wisely! _Utter shit. _

"If I'm lying, I'm dying bro. This is for reals. And it's not just the small timers-it's the higher ups. Lafitte, Burgess, Auger."

"But _why?_"

"I don't know bro-ho. But the ones who support Ace are a pretty small minority right now, I'd say it's me, you, Kohza, Usopp, Paulie, Brooke, and Chopper. Maybe others, but we're pretty much all too scared to see who else sails in same boat."

"That _little? _What happened to all our friends?", this entire conversation has left the mark of just plain shit and has sailed off into the twilights of utter lunacy. "Robin?"

"I don't know about Ro. I haven't been able to contact her since this entire shitstorm started up. Doesn't answer the phone or door. She's the one I'm kind of worried about actually." He can tell from Franky's tone, that he is more than a little worried. He is desperate.

"I'll go see her after this-but tell me what the hell happened to everybody? Are you fucking seriously telling me that of the couple dozens in the gang and that we know, only eight or so think Ace didn't do it?", Zoro can almost hear the headache wanting to start up. The smell isn't helping either. He'd think he'd have gotten used to the smell of smoke, as it seemed that Sanji put the smoke in chainsmoking, but it was already making his eyes throb and leak.

"I'm not telling you nothing you can't find out for yourself bro.", Franky sighed, "But it's just as you hear it. You can't clear up the fact that he_ was _Blackbeard's major arsonist. And that he _does_ have records of arson and arson attempt, as well as that thing Dr. Vegapunk did around two years ago."

Zoro could literally see red at the mention of the Grand Line's top scientist slash doctor who had labeled Ace as a potentially dangerous man with 'incurable pyromaniac tendencies'. "I know, _I know_. But he has an _alibi_, Me! I was there with him the whole time!"

"Yeah, you probably were. And they won't believe you.", Franky paused, "Maybe they'll even try to label you as accomplice too. You know, kill two birds with one stone. You gotta watch your back, man."

"What the hell…", Zoro feels like slamming his fist into something, that sense of injustice, that sense of _unfair_ was nearly suffocating him. He really didn't know what the fuck was up and down anymore, it just was too much. Too much to stand. "Fucking CP9…"

"Yeah, they're the ones who came to our heads first, too. I mean, it's only obvious who did it."

"There's no one else who would have had the guts or resources to do this. Or the _inhumanity_." Zoro's eyes were roaming with bitterness over the crumbled buildings in front of his eyes, there desolation was so utterly aching; he couldn't seem to draw his gaze away from the ruins.

Franky was talking again, "Hey, no one knows where Ace is, do you know? We're assuming he knows already, otherwise he'd be walking around as big as life."

"No...no I don't know. I was planning to go see if I can find him. He's probably not at Luffy's or his place though."

"All right, look I gotta go, I need to see over Iceburg's stuff, make sure everything's all right.", Franky trails off.

"Yeah, okay. Do what you gotta do Franky. Keep me updated with everything."

After they had said their goodbyes, Zoro slid the phone in his pocket slowly, that sense of unreality slowly threatening to encroach his senses. He really had no idea what the hell he should now, one step more would make everything _real_. He found it becoming increasingly easy to just stand here loosely and gawk at the rubble.

"Hey, you." A deep, smoky rumble. Zoro slowly turned to the right.

"You.", he said thickly.

"What are you doing here? Are you crazy kid?", Smoker took a deep drag from his cigar and fixed a steady eye on him.

"What the fuck did you guys do now? You know thirteen _people _died in this shit?", Zoro snarled, hands dropping to his side instinctively, and feeling the emptiness when he did more acutely than ever. Wadou was at Ace's, he had never gone to pick it up, feeling that he needed to train more before he considered himself worthy to touch it again. But now…he needed it.

Smoker stared at him coldly, "I'm not sure what you're trying to say, kid; but if you're trying to accuse the Grand Line Police Force about this, then you're delusional. We had nothing to do with this, no matter what you think."

"Well, it wasn't us, no one here in Water 7 would burn down our own homes, not even to fuck with some other gang. This is the only place we got, there's no way in _hell_ we'd fuck it up. And accusing _Ace_-"

Smoker held up a hand, "Are you saying that this wasn't Portgas's doing? Even if we found directly incriminating evidence that links him to the crime?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to say! Ace lost that lighter. And I was with him yesterday when this happened!", Zoro burst out, hands raking in his hair fiercely.

Smoker flipped out a little notebook and a pen, "So, you and Portgas were together, when exactly?"

"Around 9 PM to early 10PM. We were even in the warehouse where the fire started."

"Oh, really?", Smoker raised an thick, white eyebrow, "Which warehouse was that? Do you remember?"

"Yeah, me and Ace were in that one.", Zoro pointed to the far side of the plaza, where they had darkly rendezvoused with Blackbeard, not too far ago. "We were talking with someone."

Smoker slowly tucked his notebook back into his shirt pocket, his eyes were dark, "You know what's funny Roronoa? What's funny is that fact that I never mentioned the location _where_ the fire exactly started…yet you knew which one it was immediately."

Zoro opened his mouth, and then closed it again, dumbfounded, "The newspaper said-"

"The newspaper said _a _warehouse, not _which_ warehouse. And I'm sure you're familiar enough with Galley-La to know just how many warehouses there are." Smoker's eyes measured him, his gaze unreadable.

Many. The answer was many. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ How the hell could he have been so stupid? Zoro fisted his hands in impotent anger, "I was in that warehouse yesterday Smoker, and I saw the newspaper, I just _assumed _that that was the place."

"Okay, so now you can try to explain to me why the hell you were in there.", Smoker lit up another cigar,  
"Because so far, kid, you're not helping your case any. You or Portgas. On the contrary, you're sinking yourself deeper into this shit."

"Me and Ace were in there, that's the truth. But around 8 PM or so. And the fact that we didn't start the fire…that's the truth too.", he locked eyes with the captain.

"Then who the hell were you guys talking to?", Smoker met his gaze evenly. "If you claim that it wasn't you two, then the other guy is the next most likely suspect."

Zoro said nothing.

Smoker eyed him, a gruff annoyance seeping over his features, "This isn't helping you any, kid. I know you're not going to tell me, and you know I'm not going to believe you, so why don't we just put an end to this conversation?"

"You seriously think Ace did this?", Zoro gestured to the ruins beside them, but his eyes never left Smoker's cloudy grey ones, "You seriously think that?"

Smoker grunted, "The evidence clearly-"

"_Fuck_ evidence. What the hell does your _heart _tell you? Assuming that you have one, that is.", Zoro was breathing hard, it was taking every single ounce of determination in him to not just snatch the grey-haired man by the collar and shake him until he saw reason. Instead, he let his eyes bore down on the captain, _willing_ him to submit.

There was a few seconds of silence in which their wills battled fiercely, a short and violent struggle which involved no movement, and though it spanned a few seconds, it lasted forever to the two men.

_Believe me. Believe me. believe me, goddamn you!_ Time was heated taffy, lasting forever and burning with emotions.

Smoker was the first to break the silence, his tone was even gruffer than before.

"Why the hell can't I believe that you're lying?"

Zoro could have hugged him.

Instead, he settled for offering a shaky smile, "Because I'm _not_. You have to believe me. I'm not asking for your trust, I'm asking for your reason. _Ace is innocent_. If you refuse to believe that, then you'll be chasing after an innocent man, and the real killers are going to go free."

"There's no way that Portgas can extort himself at this point.", Smoker said, his hands crossed tightly over his thick, barreled chest. "He needs a lot more than an alibi. He needs at least thirty eye witness accounts. The best thing that he can do at these heights, is turn himself in, and hope for the best. If he's innocent or if he's guilty, the truth will come out eventually."

"Fuck no.", Zoro immediately said, his instincts instinctively raising the hackles on the back of his neck, "The moment he shows his face, you guys are just going to slap cuffs on him and drag him down to Impel Down Correctional. Don't try to lie to me."

Smoker grunted, "That's true, kid. But we're offering something that he doesn't have right now….Protection. If he's with us, then no one can touch him, not gang leaders, not CP9, not me. The safest place right now for Portgas is a jail cell. I know what I'm saying. I've been working these kind of jobs when you were in the womb. I understand this little adventure hurt other gang members, they'll be seeking fresh blood, kid."

"No.", Zoro said, his voice was just as determined, but there was a note of kindness in it, "No. I appreciate your offer. On Ace's behalf. But, no. I still think you're lying about it being safe there. Except, that's all right, because _you_ don't know you're lying."

"What the hell do you think is going to happen to him? We're going to eat him up?". The exasperation and anger in the captain's voice was apparent. "We're going to throw his bones to the dogs?"

Zoro allowed a thin smile to escape, "No. First, _you_ wouldn't do it. Second, I think Ace wouldn't be killed in his cell. I think he'd be shot 'trying to escape' or maybe accidently killed because he 'viciously attacked a guard. That's more CP9's style isn't it Lucchi?"

Zoro didn't turn around, but if Roberto "Rob" Lucchi seriously thought that he was going to fuck with Zoro Roronoa, the bastard had another thing coming. Not only could he hear his soft insidious footsteps, creeping stealthily up; but Zoro could _smell_ him-a revolting compound of cat-piss and treachery, of mysterious grotesqueness.

"I do not believe so, Roronoa.", Lucchi said softly, appearing at his elbow like smoke, "We of Cipher Pol number Nine act with much more formality and discretion."

His fists were so tightly clenched that it was a miracle that the blood was still circulating in his hands, but if he loosened them up even a bit, he would be pummeling the pale, judgmental face beside him into a raw parody of what it was. He jerked his head instead to gesture at the burned buildings, "You call that discreet? Thirteen people dead is _discreet?" _

Lucchi daintily flicked a lint fuzz off his jacket, "Are you accusing me of arson and murder? You're insane Roronoa. Simply insane. I represent the government and the justice it oversees. I am a republican, not an anarchist."

"Yeah? Fucking tell me who it was if it wasn't you?", Zoro snarled, and Smoker raised a warning hand.

"I think _you _are much better qualified to answer that question, Roronoa. You know the culprit even better than we do, after all, you are best friends." Lucchi paused sinisterly, "In fact, perhaps you know something of this yourself, firsthand. It is a common psychological maxim that the murderer always returns to the scene of the crime." His eyes bored into Zoro like dead lamps.

"_Fuck you -"_, He hadn't been whaling into the bastard before, because he knew that Ace needed him outside and safe, but this was too much. That this man was insinuating he was a murderer, a cold-hearted monster that would have killed his own friends-

His fist would have crashed into Lucchi's face-Zoro had a pang of regret in which he realized that he couldn't give Wado Ichimonji the taste of fresh blood-but his knuckles abruptly stopped a whisper away from Lucchi's nose.

Lucchi hadn't even moved an inch, his eyes were as coldly smug as ever, and Zoro realized, bitterly, that the agent had _wanted_ to be hit. _Wanted_ to have a legitimate excuse to have booked him. The man did nothing without purpose. He was a human calculator in all the sense of the word.

How he wanted to smash that self-righteous prick into the next millennium.

"Let me be Luffy.", he muttered through gritted teeth, "I'm going to kill this motherfucker, and I don't give a rat's ass if they take me in."

"Stop it. This isn't helping.", Luffy's grip inexorably tightened to the painful point on his forearm, and Zoro felt the tips of his finger tingle as the blood struggled to circulate, "Stop _it." _

Where and how and why Luffy had appeared was a mystery, but he was there. Zoro didn't know and didn't care how silent the strawhat must have been to sneak up, but he must have been quieter than the whisper of leaves to have done it.

And he is helpless to disobey the utter command in the strawhat's voice; Zoro loosened his grip and stepped back. Luffy did too, and Zoro felt a short rivulet of shock run through him as he glanced at his friend. Luffy seemed to have _aged_ in the short time they had last seen each other. His face was more haggard, the thin lines in his forehead etched deeper, and his eyes darker than Zoro had ever seen them. Even his jaunty strawhat seemed wilted in depression. And Zoro had a brief second to wonder, that if he felt sick of worry for Ace, his best friend; how must his brother, _Luffy,_ feel? Then Lucchi spoke.

"I consider that to be assault and battery, Roronoa. I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you." He reached up and scratched his beard regretfully.

"You can't. You don't have the authority to do that, you're not a cop.", Zoro said, his heart thumping wildly; but it was bullshit, and he knew it was bullshit, and more importantly, Lucchi knew he knew. But he was buying time, trying to think of a way to squirrel out of this. He wasn't really surprised to have reached this new level of low so fast. Well, he had always heard that Impel Down was a rather eventful place. At least he wouldn't be bored. And, hey, he might even have his best friend for company.

Had it all come to this, so soon?

Lucchi opened his vest to reveal the shiny badge of the Grand Line Deputy Force, "I am afraid you're wrong Roronoa. Turn around, and hands at your back. If I see you move one inch in a threatening matter, I will not hesitate to shoot you. Be warned."

_This is it. They say you lose your soul when you take another human being's life. Will I feel it when it goes? Does it have its own voice that I can hear?_

Lucchi's eyes are so pale, so pale. They are delighted. It's a sickening mixture.

_Fuck it. I tried to stay out of this situation, but I tried, Ace, I really tried. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Sanji. _Zoro closed his eyes momentarily, and opened them, his decision sitting heavily in his chest. And he wondered if Lucchi could see the murder in his eyes.

_I said I didn't care if I had to crawl through swamps and blood to destroy you._

But before the chaos erupted and completely enveloped them, a gruff voice, which Zoro had quite forgotten was even there anymore, spoke up, the burly chainsmoking captain pulling him from a precipice that he didn't even know existed, "Don't bullshit Lucchi. That was not battery and assault. As a Captain in good standing, I'll have to revoke your arrest."

Lucchi smirked slightly, "That is not in your authority to do, _Captain_. As a government official, I must regretfully overrule your decision in this matter and proceed with the arrest of a potentially dangerous felon possibly in connection with an arson-organized crime-multiple homicide case. Do you object?

Slick and smooth and sinister. Like sex with a parasite.

Zoro turned to Smoker, the unspoken plea in his eyes, the fierce hope that not all the good in the world swayed to the evil, burning in his chest.

Smoker shook his head slowly, "I'm sorry kid. There's nothing I can do. He's right. I can get you out-and maybe not even that now with the fucked up way this is going down-but I can't keep you from going in." Zoro nodded slightly, the hope fading without surprise. It was the way his life had always been. A meager rat race of survival, chasing after dreams he knew he'd never have, and grasping at glimmers in the dark, that turned out to be nothing but Fool's Gold. Sanji had been the only dream he had ever caught. And even now, he was being taken away from his blond lover and into a darkness which would seem all too dreadfully familiar.

_Let it all come out then. _He thought, the resolve was a peace.

"The Captain's right, Roronoa.", Lucchi was murmuring, his tone as soft and jovial as a lover's caress. And turning to the grey-haired captain, "And I will be reporting your insubordination to Aokiji and Kizaru. Such sedition as you have exhibited cannot be tolerated in the work force."

"Insubordination.", Smoker repeated, and turning his head, spat near Lucchi's neat black loafers, "Jesus wept."

"I believe you are overstepping your boundaries, Captain Fumador.", Lucchi ordered softly, his tone malicious in its serenity, and stepped closer to Zoro.

"No. It's you, Lucchi, who are overstepping your boundaries.", Zoro was stunned to hear Luffy's voice snap out, when the hell had Luffy turned into a..a.._badass motherfucker?_

Lucchi paused and gave Luffy a considering stare which he hadn't even deigned to gift Smoker with, and Zoro, more and more bewildered with the entire bewitched fuckery, wondered what the hell Luffy, of all people, had, that Smoker didn't. Why was Lucchi even considering him important? Luffy was just a kid who liked meat a little too much, right?

Lucchi stared at Luffy, the venom apparent in his glare, "Such a meddler…you share _that_ annoying quality with your grandfather." Luffy's eyes locked on Lucchi's and Zoro could _feel_ the electricity jump and screech between them.

"Let Zoro go _now_. Or you'll regret it. CP9's a big name. But I think _White House___is bigger."

_White House? _ What the hell was Luffy blabbering about? Did he really think Lucchi was going to fall to pieces by that elementary-school threat? And what the hell was Smoker looking all smug about? Who the hell were these people? Was he really Zoro?

Lucchi grimaced, and Zoro, confused as he was, understood that the battle, the dynamics of which he knew nothing of, had been finished. And Luffy, somehow, ridiculously, _absurdly, _had won.

The agent's eyes promised a very atrocious death and eternal damnation on the strawhat, "You watch your steps Monkey. You watch them, oh so very carefully from now on. Garp's an old name now. He won't be around forever to watch his brats. And when he's gone, I promise you, that _I_ won't be." Lucchi's dark eyes flicked to Zoro and Smoker, and seemed to mark them for destruction.

He was gone in a swirl of suit, almost as quickly as he had appeared, seeming to disappear into the very air, like the creepy cat in Alice in Wonderland. Leaving only a feeling of burning resentment and a sick feeling in Zoro's gut.

He let out a whoosh of pent up air and lightly pounded his chest; and turning to the strawhat, "Who the hell are you?" He half expected Usopp to show up and declare himself a rich billionaire magnate with a ho on each arm. Next thing, it'd be Kohza, pulling his mask off and declaring himself to be the notorious revolutionary leader Dragon.

Luffy ignored him, and instead, turned to Smoker, "How long do you think that'll last?"

Smoker cracked his knuckles experimentally, "Knowing Garp…and knowing Lucchi…a week. At most. Garp doesn't mess with this stuff; Lucchi just doesn't know that."

"What the fuck are you two dickheads talking about?", Zoro burst out, pissed, feeling as if the two idiots had suddenly started sprouting Italian, he understood that little of the conversation.

Luffy, who wasn't even listening to him, nodded, "It's enough."

"Who was it Monkey If it wasn't Portgas, who was it?", the Captain's question was casual. But it stiffened Luffy's body, Zoro could see the tenseness in his shoulderblades.

Luffy paused, and then shook his head, which Zoro, knowing Luffy as he did, understood to mean, that the Strawhat wasn't giving up any information, not that he was ignorant.

Smoker sighed, the noise a harsh rasp in the silence between them, "Whatever. Get out of here kids." He turned to survey the cause of it all. The flames still licking up between the ruins were being carefully watched by the firefighters. They were small, but Zoro could feel the heat baking off the area, enough to have the sweat popping out in fine droplets across his neck. It felt like he was standing in front of an open oven. Or standing just outside the door of hell.

"We're going to have one hell of a time trying to get Portgas innocent. You know that, don't you idiots?", Smoker muttered.

This, at least, Zoro understood, and he grinned, maybe his first sincere smile of the day since leaving Sanji, "We're?"

Luffy caught it too, and that grim face which so disquieted Zoro to look at, broke out into a smile, more radiant than the sun, "Thanks! You're a good guy, Smokie! We'll see each other soon!" And then he was tugging Zoro off, in the direction of the opposite street.

Smoker spat on the ground.

~0~

"Luffy? You're Luffy right? I mean, you haven't killed the real Luffy, stuffed his body in some ditch, and slipped on his clothes?", Zoro reached out and gripped Luffy's shoulder, jokingly, as if to ascertain his reality. Except it really wasn't a joke.

Luffy snorted, "Who would be strong enough to kill me?", they were walking briskly in the direction Zoro had left his bike, except Zoro wasn't really thinking about such menial things at the moment.

"Yeah, okay. Good point. But what the hell Luffy? How come Lucchi didn't want to fuck with _you?_ He didn't even give a fuck about Smoker. What the hell were you doing there in the first place? Where's Ace? Is he okay?" Zoro demanded, the questions shooting out of his mouth as the situation reasserted itself.

"Ace's fine.", Luffy murmured, and Zoro was right about to open his mouth to tell him to _speak up goddamn it_ before he closed it again. The kid was _smart_. The kid was _fucking_ smart. Sometimes it was hard to forget that Luffy was from Enies Lobby; he acted like he was from the most deepest and dungiest streets that Water 7 boasted.

"He's hiding right now. But he's fine.", Luffy glanced around, "I figured you'd want to see him, so I went out to look for you. Except you weren't home."

Zoro nodded, "I was at a…friend's house all night."

"I thought so. But I couldn't find you anywhere, so I thought you'd be here.", Luffy paused, the smile had faded again, and he was that silent, grim man whom Zoro barely recognized, "You saw it in the newspaper, right? About Ace? No one believes me when I say he's innocent."

"Same here.", Zoro muttered, "I don't know what the hell CP9 thinks they're doing. There's no fucking way they're going to get away with this shit. I still can't stop thinking that there's going to be a little justice in all this. Call me naïve it you want."

"CP9 didn't do it.", Luffy doesn't even seem to see Zoro stumble as he tripped over something.

"What the fuck!", he stopped in his tracks.

"They didn't do it,"

"How the hell do you know that?", Zoro demanded, "Do your freaking connections tell you this shit?"

Luffy just looked at him, "I don't know. No one told me. I just don't think they did it." he said simply.

"Then who?",

"I don't know. Whoever did this is still out there.", Luffy's eyes are distant, contemplating.

"They can pin more shit on Ace!"

"They can kill more people.", Luffy said softly, "Come on, let's go. We'll take your bike. I left my car over near it. I saw your bike when I passed it."

"So why the hell did Lucchi pay attention to you?", Zoro asked, following him.

"My g-dad works in the White House, Secretary of Home Security. CP9 is peanuts to him. He could squash them like a bug if he wanted to."There is hollow satisfaction in Luffy's voice.

"Then why can't you just make him kick them out? Hell Luffy-"

"No.", there is firmness in Luffy's voice, grit steel, "He doesn't mess in this kind of stuff. Not for anyone. And, anyway, I hate using his name."

"Is that what you meant when you said, 'how long will is last?'"

"Yes. Lucchi will find out sooner or later. Then I won't be able to do anything for any of you guys.", Luffy paused for a second. "Leave Lucchi alone, Zoro."

"Am I supposed to believe he's innocent just because you _feel_ like it?", Zoro demanded hotly.

Luffy shook his head, "No. Yes. It's not time…not yet."

"Then when?"

"Look, I don't know! I just know that _not yet_.", Luffy ran his hands through his scruffy black hair in exasperation. "Just wait. I'll take you to Ace."

"Christ. What a fuck up."

~0~

They ended up heading to Luffy's penthouse. Even though it was on the opposite side of the freaking city.

Zoro kept expecting black-suited agents to jump out of the corners with pistols half-cocked, and arrest him. But Luffy's place was as quiet and wealthy as he remembered it. The glass elevator that rose through countless stories, whisked them along smoothly, in soft defiance of gravity.

"Ace is at your place?", Zoro had asked, surprised. "Why the hell isn't this place being watched? I'd think it'd be _swarming_ with cops. It's too fucking empty-it's giving me the goosebumps."

"No, Ace isn't here. And no one's really qualified to come here, even with a warrant.", Luffy paused to pick his nose, "Cuz, _technically_, this place is under my g-dad's name, and he's above any suspicion. So it's all, you know, _political_." Luffy grimaced slightly at the word.

"No. But I thought you'd want to pick up Wado. Anyway, I'm not going with you. It's not safe. I'm being tracked." Luffy continued to stare amiably through the glass doors as if though he had just declared that he indeed liked spaghetti over lasagna.

Zoro felt like digging into his ear and clearing the wax, because he had _obviously_ had not heard right. Luffy being _tracked_? Like police surveillance? Like Law & Order and CSI stuff? Bull-_shit_.

But this day was the most fucked up day in the history of mankind, so far. Zoro half-expected Luffy to turn into a werewolf, like in Thriller, or maybe to suddenly start stretching like rubber.

"_Tracked_? Luffy? You're being _followed?_"

"Yeah. I've been followed for a while now. Except they haven't been able to catch me yet." And for the second time so far that day, Luffy allowed a grin to escape him.

"Catch you yet? What the fuck? Do I even want to know?"

"No. It's safer that you don't." The elevator dinged and Luffy stepped out, hurrying down the hallway, Zoro followed, bewildered.

"Luffy-what the _hell _have you been up to?"

The strawhat pulled out a keyring and opened the room to his suite, "Nothing. But that doesn't matter. What matters now is that you go see Ace. He needs someone right now. And I can't help him because it's too dangerous. I might accidently lead them to him." Luffy walked into the living room and headed to a wardrobe, made of solid mahogany, in the corner of the room.

"I'm fine with helping him, Luffy. But I don't see how I won't be under any suspicion. It'll still be taking a risk. Not that I care."

"I know. You'll have to work it out. I barely had a second to talk to him before I had to leave.", "Luffy opened up the drawer and Zoro's heart jumped with happiness, despite the situation, when he saw the white sheath, long and deadly, a traditional weapon. "Here you go."

Zoro took it, weighing it lovingly in his hands, "I don't see how I'm going to act inconspicuous with a nearly four foot katana in downtown Los Angeles."

"You don't have to worry about that.", Luffy opened one of the wardrobe drawers and pulled out a large, black silk bedsheet, "Here, you can wrap it with this."

Zoro did, his hands moving quickly to cover the sword with the satiny material, "What do you mean I don't have to worry about it?"

"You'll see.", Luffy answered, amiably enough, "Ready to go?"

"You're getting more mysterious by the second, Luffy. I swear I don't even fucking know you anymore.", Zoro muttered, but nodded, and followed Luffy.

To the bedroom.

"Uh, Luffy, I know this is your apartment and everything…but the door's that way."

Luffy smiled, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his strawhat, "Not for me, it isn't." His white teeth glimmered secretively.

"What? You're not going to, uh, I don't know, stab me in the back when I'm not looking and throw my body in the woods, are you Luffy?"

"No, why would I do that? You're my friend.", Luffy had reached the far end of his bedroom, where a large tasteful, and decidedly cluttered bookcase stood against the wall, and was busy rummaging along the bookshelves, seemingly pulling books halfway out at random and pushing them back in.

"Yeah, I'm glad you are.", Zoro agreed, watching his friend bemusedly, "Because I have a feeling that I'd hate to be the guy who fucks with you. I kinda feel like I fell in to Spy Kids, the rated M version."

Luffy let out a 'hmpph' of annoyance, "No matter how many times I do this, I can't see to remember which one it is-oh, here we go."

Zoro saw Luffy seize a thick tome, whose spine declared it to be, "Treasure Island" by Robert Louis Stevenson and pull it out halfway, just like he had done all the others; except this time, there was a muffled click which seemed to come from somewhere behind the bookcase, followed by a mechanical rumbling, and Zoro felt the vibrations tingling in his feet.

"What-", Zoro's jaw dropped and he just barely managed to get out of the way before the bookcase swung open, it would have slammed into him if he hadn't scrambled out of the way. Luffy, being the bastard he was, hadn't even warned him.

"How do you like it?", the smugness in the Strawhat's voice is apparent, the stars that twirled around his head almost too bright to look at.

Zoro can only gawk, wide-eyed at the dark passage that has just opened in the middle of a high-rise, classy penthouse. It is like looking into the maw of a carnivorous beast.

~0~

"Franky built it for me.", Luffy chirped, his mood much brighter, as he explained the mechanisms of the secret lair as well he could, "It's mystery tunnel."

"Yeah, Luffy.", Zoro said, making his voice in a light, bubby manner, "A mystery tunnel, that's _completely_ normal. Not weird at all."

"Well, after I watched The Dark Knight, I wanted to have secret base too, so Franky built it for me."

"How the hell didn't I know? I've been to your place thousands of times! Does Ace even know?", Zoro demanded.

"Well, no one's supposed to know. That's why it's a _mystery _tunnel.", Luffy said, his tone slow and emphasized, like he was talking to a small idiotic child. Zoro couldn't believe that _Luffy_ was talking to him like that.

"But why the hell do you have one in the first place? Just use the fucking front door! Are you going to tell me you're some kind of masked hero slash vigilante too?", Zoro would not have been surprised. "What do they call you-Meat Man? Strawhat Man? What?"

Luffy grabbed him and propelled him towards the tunnel entrance, "The mystery tunnel leads to a kind of mystery lift, let's go before it closes."

"Mystery lift? The hell is that?", there must have been automatic sensors somewhere in the Mystery Tunnel, because small lights flickered on and illuminated the passageway, which, Zoro was surprised to realize, was only a few feet long.

At the end, was a small platform with pulleys attached, it looked both strikingly archaic and insanely unsafe. Next to it was a small door.

"There's the mystery lift.", Luffy said proudly and stepped up on it, dragging Zoro after him. And quickly pulled a lever on the side. There was a small click and the lift began its descent.

"Oh, so this is some sort of dumbwaiter or something. What the hell-Franky's a fucking genius.", Zoro peered at the walls around him, "What was that door? Some kind of room?"

"Mystery room.", Luffy declared importantly. And Zoro gave up.

"So, what, is this thing going down? Where we going?"

"It goes down to a mystery basement. Then we open a Mystery door. And we walk down a Mystery Hallway and end up at another mystery door. And then we climb some mystery stairs. And we open up a Mystery trapdoor. And that's the end.", Luffy's forehead was wrinkled as he recited off the series of steps.

"Very mysterious.", Zoro muttered, "But where the hell are we ending up in?" They were coming to the end of the ride, Zoro could feel the dumbwaiter platform slowly down. He clutched at the bundle which was Wadou protectively.

Luffy grinned, in an _aw-shucks_, embarrassed, kind of way, "Nowhere really….It's a place called the Baratie."

~0~

They had been walking for half an hour or so and still Zoro couldn't seem to wrap his head around it.

"Let me get this straight. You spent thousands, maybe millions of dollars so that you could have a very sneaky escape route into your favorite restaurant?" Zoro wasn't sure if he should be appalled or highly amused. He settled for being both, "What the _hell_ goes on in your mind?" If it had been anyone else, he would have been highly annoyed. But it was Luffy. And Luffy did this kind of stuff.

"Franky built it for me!", Luffy said, and paused to pick up a flashlight from a small, hidden niche in the wall. They had got off the dumbwaiter, which had dropped them off in the basement of the penthouse apartment, Luffy had shoved a large box out of the way, and Zoro had gotten off with him, feeling like he was tagging along behind Jack Bauer.

Now, after Luffy had opened up a small door in the corner, hidden behind large crates and other piles of junk, Zoro had found himself walking down a small, narrow corridor, the walls grey stone, hunched over so that he could fit. It was pitch black inside the hallway, and the smell was that of the wet darkness which was buried underground, the smell of mould and squirming worms. Zoro tried not to think about all the tons of weight creaking and groaning above them.

The small beam of a flashlight was the only thing that held them from plunging into total darkness. And still the thin, white beam was weak, the light wavering across the cobblestones. Zoro could almost see its last gasping breaths.

"Franky? Like Franklyn Thomas, Franky? Thong Franky?", Zoro repeated, incredulous. He had known Franky was an engineer in training, and that he had trained with the best. Iceburg and their deceased father, Tom Thomas. But this entire sneaky, definitely _Spy Kids_ type of deal was fucking _crazy_. His respect for the blue haired engineer, already quite high, skyrocketed up a few thousand notches.

"Yeah, Franky is really good!", Luffy piped happily, "He built it a few years ago, when Iceburg wanted a pretty big loan to build Galley-La apartments?"

"I remember that.", Zoro answered, "But I thought the banks refused them? Something about not having a good enough credit? Franky was fucking pissed."

"Yeah, I offered to give them the money, or at least take the loan out on my name, but Iceburg didn't want to.", Luffy said, reaching up and adjusting the strawhat oh his head. "But I knew they needed it bad."

"They would have gone completely bankrupt, if they hadn't built it, the Galley-La Construction and Carpentry business was already dying out. Hundreds of Water 7s would have lost their only source of income if it had gone down.", Zoro agreed, he remembered well the crisis back then, but it had blown over, Iceburg had somehow acquired the money, though he never knew _exactly _how, and things had calmed.

"I know.", Luffy said simply, "But Iceburg didn't want to take the money. So instead I asked him to build something for me. And this is it.", Luffy waved the flashlight around so that the light splashed the walls and floor of the secretive hallway. And Zoro realized suddenly that they nearing the end. He could see faintly from a light source up ahead. But just barely.

That it had been the Baratie had been another shock. Would it mean that he'd be seeing Sanji again? So soon? What the hell did it _mean? _Maybe it meant nothing, pure coincidence. Whatever. He needed to focus on what Luffy was saying.

"But Iceburg needed _a lot_."

"I gave him two hundred million. Told him to keep the change.", Luffy said, and burst out laughing, the sounds of mirth sounded out of place bouncing off the cold, stone walls, but no less sincere. "He was furious. But he understood."

"Fuck, I don't even want to know how rich you are.", Zoro muttered, and for a brief second he wondered how it would have been like to have been born as Luffy. Rich, popular, strong, not a care in the world. Lucky-ass fool.

"So I got this-", Luffy began, before Zoro interrupted him.

"Hey, woah-there's more-", Zoro exclaimed, surprised. There was more openings in the wall, other dark passageways that led god-knew-where, their open maws gaped wide and black. Luffy briefly shown his flashlight in them, and moved on.

"Oh, yeah. I know. But this is the way to Ace.", Luffy said, and continued walking, as if it was completely normal to have a complex labyrinth of secret passageways underneath his expensive penthouse apartment. Zoro was reminded again of Donald Trump slash Bruce Wayne.

"Hey, wait for me-", Zoro said, catching up, "Where the fuck do those lead?"

"Other places.", Luffy replied evasively, his eyes flicking to the sides in his poor attempt to lie, "Mystery places."

"Liar!" He would have said more, but the light was getting even stronger, and Zoro could even see the lines in his own hands if he held them up, and the more obvious details of his feet. And could see, also, the dark splotches that were covering the floor. They were dark, and they could have been anything. But Zoro had been born and bred in Water 7, and if there was one thing he had grown familiar with, it was the sight of dried blood.

"Luffy, what the hell is this shit?", he paused and knelt, tracing his hands over the black stains. Luffy paused, and shown the flashlight down, revealing the maroon color of the bloodstains, and Zoro, glancing up, didn't see any surprise. The strawhat simply looked and then turned around again, seemingly unimpressed with the marks of violence.

"Luffy! What-"

"It's what it looks like, Zoro.", was the quiet answer.

"Like fuck! Who's _is it?" _He couldn't stop thinking about Ace. Luffy had said he was 'fine', but what exactly was 'fine' to the Ds? The pair of them were inhuman monsters. Brothers born from the egg of a dragon and hatched in the inferno of a volcano. 'Fine' to them could translate to 'in critical condition but still living' to decidedly normal people.

Luffy seemed to read his mind, "Don't worry. It's not Ace's."

Zoro had a moment to be relieved, and to wonder, "Then who-"

"It's mine."

"Yours!", Christ, between Ace and Luffy, the Ds never gave him _one fucking second _to rest, "What the hell were you doing that you're bleeding like a stuck pig walking through this thing? Am I actually supposed to believe that this is what you do on your spare time?"

"Just…don't think about it.", Luffy said, grinning even wider than before.

Zoro would not just have let something like that slide. Did Luffy seriously think that he'd say, _'oh, I completely understand'?_ But before he could even open his mouth, Luffy stopped and said, "This is it."

"What's what?"

"Here.", Luffy tossed him the flashlight and stood up as fully as he could and pushed tentatively on the roof on top, and to Zoro's increasing surprise, bright light seeped through the edges, forming a shining thin line in the shape of a rectangle as the roof pushed up.

"What the hell? Is that some sort of trapdoor?"

"Yeah, sometimes they put crates of things on top though, so I have to make sure there's nothing there before I actually unlatch it. Or else it'll fall on me…but there's nothing there.", saying this, Luffy reached up again and slid something, Zoro couldn't see what, but there was a small metallic noise, half way between a click and a thump.

And the trapdoor fell open, letting a bright glare of light through, along with the delicious smells of a thousand different dishes and a million spices.

And Zoro realized, dumfounded and blinking like an owl in the newly returned light, that somewhere, somehow, he could hear Sanji's voice.

~0~

_That last time I was here I was still wondering what the hell was wrong me…wondering why the hell I couldn't get Sanji out of my mind. Christ. Seems eons ago now. _

The trapdoor opened up into some sort of basement slash storage room. Looking around Zoro could see dozens, maybe hundreds of shelves, stuffed with an amazing variety of comestibles, there were large wheels of cheese, barrels of potatoes, immense racks of spices, dozens of bags of bread rolls, and types of pastas beyond count.

"No wonder you put a trapdoor down here.", Zoro remarked, eyeing some of the bread roll bags which seemed considerably emptier than the others. "Does anyone know you sneak in here to make this your own private buffet?"

"No.", Luffy grinned proudly, "They think its rats. Except, the owner-Zeff-I think he _suspects _something, He gives me these weird looks whenever I stop by."

"Zeff? Sanji's dad?" It's out before he remembers who he's talking to.

But thankfully, Luffy is as sharp as a marble, and there's no suspicion whatsoever, "Yeah! Zeff has the _coolest _beard pigtails and his hat is _huge!" _

"I'm sure it is.", Zoro mutters, cursing his loose mouth. Though, Ace already knew about his friendship with Sanji, so it wouldn't be too long before everyone did. That is, if Ace ever had to walk the Earth like a free man ever again.

Luffy's already rummaging along the shelves, picking up handfuls of things and just stuffing it into his mouth, filling up with a determination which would have been the envy of a much older man. "Hey, Shoro!" Munch, munch, munch. A little rat indeed.

"What? Hey Luffy, they're going to skin you alive when they catch you. Don't say I didn't warn you. And I don't get it. Where's Ace?" , Zoro points an accusatory finger at the bursting cheeks of the Strawhat, he's getting more paranoid by the second, he wants to see Ace damn it.

"Shoro, youshe shure yoush don't want anysh of thish? Ish good!", Luffy holds out a grimy handful of crackers.

"Stop fucking around!", Zoro growled back, "Let's get a move on."

"Oh, no. Ish not likesh that,", Luffy answered, and then swallowing, "This is as far as I can go. I was going to take you this far, and I'll tell you where Ace is, but I can't go with you." Luffy ruins the suspense of his statement by stuffing a huge Portobello in his mouth.

"_What! _Why?", Zoro snaps, "Hell, Luffy, you _know _how I am with directions! Why can't you just take me?"

"I can't.", was the simple answer, "I told you. I'm being watched. They think we're back at my place, but if I don't turn off a light, or turn one on, or ruffle a curtain in the window, so they know we're in there, then they'll check out what's wrong."

"But still-"

"It's easy to find. Do you know Amazon Lily?"

"Amazon Lily. Of course I know where that is. Why the hell would Ace be there?", Zoro demanded. Though if Ace happened to be sheltered at his ex-girlfriend's shnazzy club, he wouldn't be surprised. Luffy had a secret labyrinth underneath his penthouse apartment after all.

"Well, go there, okay? He's there.", Luffy said, rummaging through a large sack looking like it was filled with toasted oats.

"What! That's across the fucking city! Why'd you bring me here?", Zoro exclaimed, hands itching to wrap around Luffy's neck and just _squeeze._

"I had to throw them off. They were following us ever since we left Galley-La.", Luffy explained, "Just go to Amazon Lily."

Zoro sighs and giving up, mutters, "Fine."

Hell, it was about time he got caught up with Hancock Boa, he was still a little sore about being thrown out after one day. And Amazon Lily wasn't a bad place at all. Ace must be having fun, probably not even worrying about the situation, knee deep in girls and a tit in each hand. Golden bastard.

~0~

"He's there? At Amazon Lily? How the hell did that happen?", Zoro demanded, half outraged, half amused that while he was racing around Water 7, nearly getting fucking _arrested_, nearly out of his mind with worry, anger, and fear, Ace, the whole _point _ of this entire situation was partying it up in a place where every man would give up their left nut to enter.

"I'll tell you later.", Luffy said, shrugging, "But Ace's in one of the back rooms. The Arena. He's waiting for you."

"Yeah, Luffy. How the hell am I supposed to get inside?", Zoro said, exasperated, "The place costs five hundred fucking bucks to _enter._"

"Didn't you go out with Hammock? Maybe she'll let you in.", Luffy suggested, reaching up and snagging a bag of beef jerky from one of the top shelves, and heading back to the open square of the trapdoor.

"That was years ago! And for _one day_, then she sent me packing! Told me she found her '_one true love'_. Whatever the hell that means…I fucking doubt that she'll let me in her precious club now. She's her own gang, too Luffy. Hancock flies the red, if you don't remember. She'll never let Blackbeard's guys in there."

Luffy's forehead wrinkled, "I don't have any money on me…Oh, wait!" He broke into a smile and took off his strawhat, his fingers sliding along the red cloth tied around the base of the crown. And seconds later, Luffy held up a piece of folded paper in triumph and tossed it to him. "Take that."

"What-", Zoro felt himself at a loss for words as he started down at what was written on the paper, and then, "_All access fucking pass!" _He had only met guys who had _met_ guys who had _met _guys who had _claimed_ to even have _seen_ one of these things he now held in his hands. These passes cost somewhere in the five _million _dollar range. All access pass to any Amazon Lily Club in the country, no admission, free drinks, free food, chauffeured rides to the club, anything and everything.

And Luffy…

"I had no _idea_ you went there that much, Luffy.", Zoro murmured, awed. Luffy might be awed, but he must be extremely virile, yet.

"What? Oh, that was just a present Hammock gave me." , Luffy took the time to clear his nose out with his pinky finger. "They have amazing food."

"Hammock? Han_cock? Hancock_ gave it to you? Why?", Zoro could almost feel jealous.

"I dunno. But you should go now, just head over there and see Ace. I gotta go now, Gin should be back anytime soon.", and with this, the Strawhat jumped lightly down into the tunnel.

"_Gin?_", Zoro repeated, and looked down in surprise at Luffy's upturned face, "You mean _Krieg's _Gin? Why the hell-" he cut himself off suddenly, remembering-

_I sent him to someone that even you couldn't beat up. _

_Someone that even you…._

…_.couldn't beat up. _

Click.

"Bastard.", Zoro muttered under his breath, and then had to give an unwilling bark of laughter, "You really know me, don't you damn chef?"

Luffy was nodding happily, though it was obvious he didn't understand what was going on."All right Zoro, tell Ace that I'm here for him for whatever he needs and that I love him, all right?"

"Yeah. Get out of here before you make my brain swell any more than it already _is.", _Zoro muttered, pretending to rub at his temples.

After Luffy was gone, Zoro wandered the shelves for a little bit, looking at the different foods and thinking. He knew he should be busting ass to get to Ace, but he lingered all the same. There was too much stuff happening all at the same time that it felt that the very air should explode from the friction of it all. He just needed to sit down, or stand still and breathe and _think. _

He'd probably need Sanji's help to get to Amazon Lily. That was for certain. And the damn chef would probably want to go with him inside too. Inside the amazing tropical jungle of women and forbidden fun.

Amazon Lily. The hottest, swankiest, most dangerous strip club that Water 7 could boast.

~0~

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hoped you guys liked this chapter! Love! -Gecko**


	18. The Arc of Descent

_**Chapter 18**_

The Arc of Descent

I once knew a guy, obsessed with the afterlife  
Oh what a terrible day that was, he realized he'd wasted all his  
Time was ticking by, and he'd been left behind  
And as the clock tick-tocked his heart did stop  
and everything he had was fucked  
And we know not what we do Can you hear them call?  
Will we ever make it through?  
As they watch us fall from the sky to the ground to the sea  
Woe is me, woe is me, no one will save you now  
We can only look away away

We'll not be victims

there'll be no victims of to speak  
And only then will we be free  
And up will rise the meek  
And when we fall we will fall together  
No one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves  
And where we roam we will roam forever  
No one will understand what we meant  
The beaten and the bruised, forsaken, the abused  
Oh what a glorious day we'll have rising up and claiming all our dues  
The day will come as sure as the ever-setting sun  
All of those that self-imposed will find themselves so indisposed  
Now, with the line drawn in the wet sand  
You need to tell us where to stand  
Sitting waiting watching rotting everything they warned us of is true  
Now tell me what we're all supposed to do?  
They're coming after all of us with everything they've got  
With the fury of a soldier who will answer to his God  
So how will we fight? All we have is logic and love on our side

-"_We Will Fall Together", Streetlight Manifesto_

~0~

Part of him hated to bring the cook deeper into this mess then he already was, but another part of him was base and primal, selfish beyond reason. That part screamed in triumph when he saw the figure of his lover standing by the countertop, '_yes! Let him come with me! At least if we're going down, he's coming too, damn it.' _

Misery did not just enjoy her company; she raped them savagely.

_Shut up._ _I don't have the time for that fucking crap._

"Psst! Sanji!", Zoro called softly, waving an arm at him. Good thing there were no other cooks around. Zoro was standing in the doorway that led from the storage room to the kitchens. It had been a generous twist of fate that, not five minutes after Luffy had abandoned him in the dark and dreary confines of a restaurant's basement; there had been some sort of commotion in the dining room, and all the cooks except Sanji had rushed out of the kitchen, excited. Zoro had seized his chance and had submerged.

And of course Sanji had been one of the first things he had seen. The inky black suit and bright sheaf of yellow hair were hard things to miss. The guy had been, of course, too cool to follow the rest of the chefs. To Sanji, even his shit smelled sweet.

The blond jerked and looked around comically, and then seeing, him-

"Zoro! What the _fuck_ are you _doing_ _here_?", Sanji hissed, his knife poised right above a plump red tomato. The utter malevolence and suspicion caught Zoro off guard. The hand that held the sharp bladed cooking utensil looked unsure whether to continue with the slated death of the tomato or to launch the jagged cutting edge across the room hard enough to impale itself in Zoro's warm and vital jugular.

"Uhh-" The way Sanji had said that, part of him wanted to whisper, "Sorry.", and drudge back into the basement.

"_Whoa, _wait_._ That didn't come out right-", Sanji facepalmed with the hand not holding the knife, and rephrased his question, "_Are _you _okay_? What the hell happened?" He set down the knife in his hand, cast a hurried look around to verify that no one was near, and hurried over to him.

"I'm good-I just need-", Zoro began before Sanji's hand were patting him all over, as if the cook could discover from mere touch the adventures and anxieties that had plagued Zoro since he had last seen him that same morning.

"_Are you finished with that sauce Sanji!_?", a booming voice suddenly rang out, cutting Zoro off. The approaching footsteps hit the floor in meaty thumps. Someone was coming. They both froze and threw guilty, frightened glances at each other. Reduced for a second, to two teenagers caught groping in the broom closet of their middle school; or two kids, discovered with their small, grimy hands in the cookie jar.

"_Shit!",_ Sanji hissed, and seeing that Zoro was moving back into the storage room, snapped, "_Not that way! _The cooks go down there all the time-you're dead if you try to hide!"

"Then, where-", Zoro said helplessly, looking around wildly.

"Out there-out there!", Sanji was already propelling him towards another door. They had just barely managed to snatch it open, throw themselves through it, and shut it behind Sanji before they heard the wide double doors across the room fly open and the cook's voice, demanding to know whether the blond chef had finished the spicy sauce yet, or did he have to beat the shit out of him to get it?

"_Sanji! Where the fork did you go?" _The muffled exclamation could still be heard through the thick door.

Sanji just winced at the cheesy cooking joke, and rolled his eyes in Zoro's direction as if to say '_you see what I have to deal with on a daily basis?_'

"_Sanji! You in storage! In the loo? You didn't even finish cutting this poor tomato!",_ Zoro can hear the thumps and bangs as the cook walked through the large kitchen, calling Sanji's name. Incredibly, Zoro heard the cook run open a few drawers to see if Sanji had managed to stuff himself into a cubic foot space for the sole purpose of evasion.

"_Patty_", Sanji whispered to Zoro, "_Whatta freaking retard…Go over there for a minute."_ He motioned for Zoro to retreat a couple yards down the back ally, and Zoro did, hiding behind the dumpster for good measure. The camouflage was good, but the scent was horrible. It smelled like the rotting curd of rotten banana peels and fish gone over sometime when radio was a new thing. To put it eloquently; it smelled like Bigfoot's dick. He flapped his hands at Sanji to _hurry it the fuck up man!_ Sanji nodded impatiently.

"Patty! I'm right here! Just went for a smoking break!", Sanji called out as he opened the door and waved at the cook inside.

"Eh? When did you care about smoking in the kitchen? You're always puffing that damn Camel in the kitchen, whether we like it or not.", Zoro heard Patty grumble.

"Yeah, um, something just came up, and I got to split, all right? Take care of my shift will you? Thanks-a-bunch-I-owe-ya-one.", and Sanji quickly shut the door on Patty's vehement protests. Zoro shook his head in disgust, _that was really smooth Sanji, I mean, so utterly inconspicuous. Idiot. _

"Let's roll before the octopus face thinks to open the damn door!", Sanji hissed, sprinting off down the alley. "Get your ass moving boy!"

"Where to?", Zoro yelled back, abandoning the dumpster and racing after the suit, throwing one last glace at the kitchen doors before they turned the corner and lost sight of it.

"My car-let's go, follow me and don't let anyone see you!", Sanji yelled back over his shoulder.

_We shouldn't be shouting so much then…_Zoro thought, but had the presence of mind not to scream.

They ended up streaking across the parking lot, ducking and weaving between bumpers with all the finesse of wannabe undercover agents. Zoro kept on having inexplicable urges to throw himself across hoods and roll on the ground, screaming things like '_Duck, Duck, he's got a gun!' _and _'Code A-45-67-395!Project Santa Claus is interfering with Agent Bluebeard!' _

Sanji finally managed to open his car and throw himself into the backseat, Zoro followed him, slamming the door behind and thumbing the lock for good measure. He closed his eyes for a second, his pulse thrumming throughout his body. Why was it that it always seemed like he was running around the world, with nothing to show for it? When the fuck would he next be able to put his feet up and rest? Drink some lemonade? Eat some lasagna?

The cook was already bombarding him with questions, "What happened? Did you find Ace? Are you on the lam? Are they after you? CP9?" _Have you jizzed since this morning? What do you think about when you bust a nut? What's your fucking blood type man? _

"Calm down, Sanji. Calm the fuck down.", Zoro breathed, smoothing a hand over Sanji's ruffed hair, "You're going to jizz your pants if you keep that up."

"Well, you tell me how the hell you managed to appear out of nowhere like a freaking genie from out the Baratie's storage? I'm just innocently making sauce and next thing I know, you're standing there like a ghost! And, Zoro, I'm no fucking Hamlet!" [1]

Zoro snapped his eyes open, "Are you saying you wouldn't avenge my death if I was brutally murdered, you numbfuck?"

"But then your wife would have married the murderer-but _I'm _your wife-kind of-_husband_-and then I would have-_been my own mother_?"

"Just shut the fuck up _now_.", Zoro groaned, rubbing his temples, "I swear every time you speak I get dumber."

"Yeah? Every time I see you my dick shrivels up and-if my dick was a turtle, then it would retreat into its shell, wait-no-that doesn't sound right!" Sanji seized his hair in his hands in exasperation.

"Of course it doesn't! You're comparing your dick to a-nevermind! What the hell was I _saying_?"

Sanji threw up his hands, "Just tell me how the hell did you get into the storage room? I sure as hell know that there's no exits or entrances down there."

"That's what _she_ said!", Zoro said and slammed knuckles with Sanji. After the juvenile snorting and giggling and _'good one's_ that that comment elicited, Zoro took the chance to yank him forward and kiss him hard-and almost immediately, he wrinkled his nose, "You taste like onions and cloves. Keep it clean, Orbit, the gum-of-champions."

"I was _cooking_ idiot, what do you expect? I mean, my come would taste like cheddar cheese right now, no joke."

Zoro burst out laughing and ruffled Sanji's hair again to show him that he was joking, and then, his laughter fading, he told him what had transpired since he had left the other's house that long ago morning. From his near-fatal collision with Lucchi all the way to Luffy's penthouse apartment and the dark reality Luffy had constructed underneath it.

By the time he had finished, Sanji was looking at him like he had just snorted thirteen pounds of cocaine up his left nostril, "Are you fucking me? Luffy has a secret passageway under his penthouse all the way into the Baratie?"

It sounded crazy put out there like that, bald and naked. And already Zoro was struggling to believe that it had actually happened. It felt faraway and distant. A dream within a dream of a fictional character. It would have been easier to believe that Luffy had knocked him out cold at the Galley-La buildings and had managed to smuggle him into the basement of the Baratie then that what had actually had happened.

Zoro nodded, "Go check down there and you'll find the trapdoor easily enough. How the hell else would I have ended up in there?"

Sanji shrugged, "So that's who the rat was…" Ever the cook, he looked slightly offended at the revelation of just how exactly his food and ingredients had been desecrated. "You know I couldn't fucking sleep for a week, thinking that the stupid rodent would infect the ingredients with some sort of questionable disease?"

"Yes, okay. We've established the fact that it was Luffy, Sanji. Can we fucking move on? I mean, I know my best friend being charged with multiple homicide is _peanuts _compared to a little mammal from the family _rodentia_ munching on the wheel of Parmesan in the storage room of the Baratie-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

Zoro suddenly paused, "Random question-Did you ever watch _Ratatouille?_"

"Yeah, why does everyone ask me that? I liked Gustavo."

Zoro just shook his head and laughed, "All right. Look Sanji.", Zoro hooked an arm over the cook's shoulders and drew his head conspiratorially in, "The place where this entire shitty sequence of events leaves us is that I need to get my ass into the posh, hot, women-gorged, flashy, shitty nightclub which goes by the name of Amazon Lily. This is where you come in. I _need_ to get to that shitty place to see Ace and pass on all the stuff I just told you."

"Zoro Roronoa, I've noticed that you've used the word, 'shitty', three times just right now. I feel that there's these invisible lines marked 'Sanji' and 'Zoro' and you've just crossed the 'Sanji' line and have entered 'Sanji' territory."

Zoro stared at him for a second, "I think there's these lines called 'simple stupidity' and 'utter idiocy' and you've just-"

"_All right_, I grant you the 'shitty', but the moment ya start wearing a suit, or smoking a cig, _or _wearing your hair over your left eye-it is _over._"

"I'd rather die an agonizing death from ungabunga.", Zoro grunted, looking scandalized. "And you mean, our relationship is over? That just sounded_ really_ gay-No offense to either of us-"

"No, I meant your _life _is over. Or maybe your adventure as a _reproductive_ male. Depends. Wait, what the _fuck_ is unga-"

"Wait, it's a long joke. I'll tell it to you, but first we have to decide what the heck we're going to do. I need to get to Amazon Lily, you going to take me or am I going to have to beat the shit out of you and take your car?", Zoro asked, pointing an accusatory finger at the cook.

"Hell yeah. We hear about Amazon Lily even in Enies Lobby, man. The women there…", Sanji's eyes grew dreamy, "The women…Heh."

"What are you talking about? You're not going in.", Zoro said. He knows that it's useless even to say it, but he just wants to see the expression on Sanji's face. It doesn't disappoint. Sanji's face twitches and grimaces, like if he's deciding whether to throw up or sneeze and then decides to do both-and then decides not to. It's a spasm-contortion of the finest quality.

"Oh, ho-I _am_ going in, if you want a ride there.", Sanji remarked.

Zoro shrugged but then said, "Yeah, okay. You're invited, but we're not supposed to, you know, be _friendly_."

"Why not? It's just you trying to get into my pants isn't it?", Sanji stared at him questioningly.

"Yeah…but I wouldn't take you to _Amazon Lily_ to do that. It's too fancy. I mean, my best friends haven't been there! And if I take you, and not them-and someone sees us…it smells, get it?"

Sanji nodded, chewing on his lip, "So…cover up? Wear something Givenchy. Huge pair of mirror shades. Bowler hat. Hermes handkerchief around the neck. Armani shoes. Me too."

Zoro rolled his eyes, "Sanji, I get a _reduced fee for my lunch_ _at school_. Where in the living fuck am I going to get that kind of shiz?"

"Well-"

Zoro widened his eyes dramatically, pretending to see something through the window behind Sanji, "Oh, shit!

Sanji turned, head craning, "What-"

"It's my pumpkin carriage and my fairy godmother! Apparently my Harley-Davidson is going to turn into a Cadillac limousine, my five buck sweatshirt is going to turn into a Guess three piece, and my katana is going to turn into a very fashionable pimp cane, complete with purple sparkles and peacock feathers!" Zoro held up Wadou at a jaunty angle.

After favoring him with a very sardonic glance, Sanji chuckled softly, "Baby, I don't see no fairy godmother, but your Prince Charming is already here."

~0~

"All right-let me see, here-", Sanji ruffled through the shit on the floor of the backseat and resurfaced with a baggy sweatshirt. He threw it at Zoro, "Wear that, and I'll get you the shades I have in the glove department."

"I look like a hobo in these. More of a hobo.", Zoro complained, sliding the sweater over his head and slipping the sunglasses on. "And this sweater is an East Blue High sweater. Lame."

"Who gives? This is just so no one knows its Zoro Roronoa I'm driving around like nobody's business." Sanji answered, his hand on the door handle, "Just get into the front seat from there." He got out and switched to the driver's seat.

Zoro did, just stepping awkwardly over the arm rest and sliding into shotgun, "Yeah, driving a hobo around is not suspicious at all." And as Sanji stuck his key in the ignition, "Hey, remember when I hotwired this car? When you were too stupid to remember you didn't even have your suit on? That was priceless."

"Ah, the famous day of our initial acquaintance. It makes me cry when I think about how if I had just been ten minutes earlier to school, I would never have had to meet your ugly mug in person.", Sanji retorted, craning his head over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking lot.

"Kind of weird once you think about it. I mean, it's only been three months or so since we even met…", Zoro looked thoughtfully out the window, the world a shade darker from the lens, "Not even three fucking months…we fell hard." There was no need for clarification.

Sanji shrugged, "Sometimes when I think about it-not that I think about it _a lot-_I kind of think that it was sort of…inevitable, you know? Like it was gonna happen, so there was no use even denying it once I caught myself doing creepy stuff…like watching you." There was still a note of embarrassment in the cook's voice.

Zoro laughed, his thoughts musing, "Same here. I mean, the_ denial _was sort of a transition, even when I was banging my freaking head against a wall-_you do not want to kiss Sanji! You do not want to kiss Sanji!" _

Sanji laughed, "So weird…even though we talked about it before, it still seems weird whenever we do."

"It's always going to be weird.", Zoro murmured, feeling a little sleepy as he relaxed into the seat. He reached over and pushed the CD play button, "Let's see what you were listening to-I'm going to make an educated guess and say either Hannah Montana or Miley Cyrus."

"That would have been extraordinarily witty if it hadn't been overshadowed by the fact that you don't know that they're the _same person_."

"What! When the hell did that happen!"

"I think it happened-aw, forget it. This is going to go nowhere.", Sanji muttered, "Turn up the track. It's a mixed disc, so you can skim through." Zoro turned the volume up

_- day he stood in front of the judge he screamed, 'She lies, that little slut!' and the judge knew that he was full of shit and gave him twenty-five years, and now his heart is filled with tears! One night in jail, it was getting late, he was butt-raped by a large inmate, and he screamed! But the Gods paid no attention to his cries! That's-_

"Date Rape. Sublime.", Zoro said, snorting laughter, "Nice. Do you think that the Gods pay no attention to our cries Sanji?" He turned the dial, skipping the track.

"I don't know. I'd like to think there is a God up in Heaven up above.", Sanji said, shrugging, "That He cares and that He provides, though sometimes He does it in strange ways. Even if that means there are such things as Water 7 and Enies Lobby." His blue eyes flickered toward the burning horizon, and Zoro realized with a start, that it was already late afternoon. Had time passed so fast?

"I think no one listens to our cries.", Zoro said, there was no trace of bitterness in his words, "Hey-what's this?" The music had started pumping through the speakers, the beat settling in. A strange utopia of sounds-both utterly sorrowful and strangely exhilarating.

"It's Dubstep. Never heard of it?", Sanji reached over and turned the volume dial a little higher so that the bass rocked the Lexus, made it thrum and throb, beat like a living thing.

Zoro shook his head, "Heard of yes, actually _heard, _no, but its _good_. Ace wanted me to go to his house to listen to it and chill, but I never got the chance" He rocked his head back and forth gently, "All we need is two blunts and a bong and the image is _complete_."

Sanji laughed , "Yeah…it does give that feeling of just drifting away, you know? You just want to lose yourself in the beat, keeping on nodding…rocking your head...The sounds are so fucking futuristic, _modern_-it seems like the requiem of all things industrial. But what were you saying?"

"Yeah…what? Oh, I was saying that I've never really thought there was something up there that heard me when I was crying, or screaming in pain. It was all me. I mean, I've never hated God, or the concept of him. It's just the way I am. I never needed anyone to guide me. I knew what to do." Zoro shrugged, settling back and tapping his foot to the slow, sad beat.

Sanji nodded, saying nothing.

Zoro chuckled and shook his head, "Doesn't mean I always did what I knew was right though. We're all human. We make mistakes."

"Hmm. You worried about Ace?"

"Hell yeah." Zoro shrugged moodily, "But I know he's okay, right now at this minute. If he's hiding, he's fine. What I'm worried about is about what's going to happen, you know? I'm just so focused on finding Ace, seeing him, touching him to make sure he's real-but then what? I have no fucking _clue._"

They reached a red light, and Sanji took the opportunity to light up, he waved the air in front of him instinctively, "What do you want to do then? What's going to go down over there?"

Zoro shrugged again, unsure, "I don't know. That's why I _need _to talk to Ace. Luffy said it wasn't CP9, and I _know_ it wasn't Smoker. But then who the hell does that leave? My mind can't stop thinking about the other gangs."

"Maybe Luffy's wrong?", Sanji said, "He can't just know that."

"Yeah…but its_ Luffy_. I mean, I wouldn't trust that guy to put two and two together without hurting himself, but when he says its _gut_. I have to pause and think."

Sanji nodded, "I know what you mean. Luffy's like that."

"Yeah, so my mind just keeps chasing its tail in circles every time I try to put some definite closure on it. Goddamn. Let me think for a while, will you Sanji?", Zoro tossed him a pleading glance before closing his eyes.

Sanji nodded, and Zoro heard it. The cook reached over and turned up the volume. Dubstep filled the car.

~0~

"You're dad's not home right?", Zoro asked, getting out of the shotgun seat.

"Nah, he's at the Baratie. And he won't try to find out where I am, he trusts me. And no, we don't have time to fuck."

"Who said-"

"Your face said. And if your dick could talk, it would have said too."

Zoro followed Sanji up his driveway, "All right. So, this is the plan-me and you dress up in your fancy clothes and we go to Amazon Lily, right?"

"Right.", Sanji let them in, and motioned him to follow, though by now, Zoro knew Sanji's house just as well as his own. "You're my height, my frame-size. It'll look good on you."

"Anything looks good on me.", Zoro said, voice serious enough that Sanji knew he was joking.

Sanji pushed open the door to his room and strode in, though Zoro, ever observant, saw that the blond threw a cursory glance over the large, neatly-tended bed, and followed his look by a quick, almost automatic swivel to the grandfather clock in the corner.

"I thought you said we didn't have time." he called.

"Nah, maybe.", Sanji shrugged, smiling lopsidedly, "I just get this good feeling inside whenever I deny you sex." He walked into the large walk-in closet which opened up into his bedroom proper, separated only by a set of French doors, frosted glass.

"So you're one of those kinky ones, eh?", Zoro followed him, "You're going to want to tie me up next, watch."

"I'm guessing it's going to be black? I'll just wear one of the pricier suits, and a burgundy dress shirt. That good?" The cook was already rummaging through the rack.

"Yeah, pretty sure. Probably don't want to be that formal though. Just unbutton the top buttons of your shirt so that some skin shows." Zoro shrugged and leaned against the door jamb.

"Is that true? Or is that for your benefit only?" Sanji turned to him, the curl of his eyebrow aloft in question.

Zoro rolled his eyes sardonically, "I've noticed you've got quite an ego cook. Either I'm lusting after you or I'm lusting after you. You're not so great. Hurry up-what are you going to pick out for me?"

"Pick your own shit out. I'm not your maid.", Sanji picked out a black suit from off the rack and a red shirt from the shirt side of the closet. He bent over and carefully selected a pair of black shoes, before walking out. "I'm going to go take a quick five minute shower. Don't follow. Stay. Good boy."

"Yes Master.", he said sarcastically, "You'd probably make me look like an idiot anyway. Let's see…" Zoro rummaged through Sanji's rather extensive collection of suits. "All of them look the fucking same to me."

"Don't mess them up.", Sanji called over his shoulder before disappearing through a door across the room.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Zoro scratched his head again as he stared at the black clothes in front of him, slightly lost. Sure Sanji could pick out clothes like it was nothing, could match his shirts and shoes and suits like he was preparing a meal, and it would _still_ come out looking delicious. But he wasn't Sanji.

He was Zoro.

Zoro who really didn't know his way through department stores. Who liked plain, drab colors in which he could get comfortable with. Zoro who was lost in Sanji's closet. _Get a hold of yourself man! Don't let some fancy-shmancy cloth creatures make you wet your pants! Pick a suit, pick a shirt, pick some shoes, and that's _it.

Zoro reached out and snatched a suit off the rack at random, turning blindly, with the passion of someone who knows that he's completely out of his depth, ruffled through the shirts. Instinct made him pick out a forest green one. The shoes were the easiest part-they all looked the same. Well, at least to him.

He bet that Sanji could have distinguished them from a mile away. Heh. Dumb blond. Zoro gave a mental hug to the cook; he didn't know how the hell he would have survived this freak day if Sanji hadn't been there to make him laugh. Fuck support and sticky-sweet comfort and condolences that did jack shit.

Sanji made him laugh, and that's why Zoro loved the hell out of him. They could joke around at the very doorstep of death, the cook would crack a 'that's what she said' joke while the Devil himself spoke from a cloud of sulfurous smoke. They were like that. And Zoro seriously thought that he would have choked on the bile of his own grimness and fear if Sanji hadn't appeared and smiled and reduced things back to their proper proportions.

He didn't want Sanji to get hurt wherever they were going. Knew, too, that if wishes were horses, beggars would gallop across the Great Plains on full-blooded mustangs. But what the hell else could he do? Act the chauvinistic male and protecting hero, tell Sanji that he must stay home and make him a sandwich? He'd rather force Sanji into a dress. One with a low-cut bosom and frills. No, Sanji was coming, and Zoro, selfishly, preferred it that way.

Stripping off his clothes, Zoro quickly stepped into the formal attire; it smelled new and fresh. A suit that had never been worn until now. He wondered briefly, that if the suit could smell the imposter inside of it. The suit no more belonged on him then he belonged in this house. It wasn't him, he wasn't used to it. And Sanji was the only reason that he was there in the first place.

_Where the hell are we going to end up? This isn't going to end good. We're not going to. I've known it since I saw him for the first time. Known that things aren't going to end well. _

"Stop fucking spooking yourself Zoro.", he muttered through gritted teeth, and harshly jerked his arms into his shirt and suit. "You'll just end up filling your mind with shit. Think of other things man!" He smoothed over the lapels of his jackets, and quickly pulled off his jeans.

"So when did you run insane, Zoro? Or having soul-to-soul conversations with your imaginary friends?", Sanji's voice floated through the doors, amused. Looking up, Zoro saw Sanji standing at the foot of his bed, toweling his now-dark blond hair, with another towel, knotted around his waist, effectively concealing his manhood and two slices of paradise. You had to applaud his modesty.

Zoro rummaged through some of the closet's drawers, searching for the elusive boxers which all males seemed to misplace at the most crucial moments, "When did I run insane? I think when I fell in love with you because no one, _no one,_ in their right mind would have done that." He finally found a pair of clean boxers tucked behind a pile of Sanji's socks, and slid them on hurriedly. The pants followed.

"Hey, broccoli-I'm finished dressing, so hurry up.", Sanji called out, he had magically dressed in what seemed less than point five seconds, and there was not even one slight imperfection from what Zoro could see. The guy hadn't dressed, the fucking suit had melted onto him. It was eerie. The cook was now sitting on the edge of his bed, smoking, and having the audacity to look bored.

"Hey idiot-I'm not, so wait your fickle ass while I finish.", Zoro straightened up, and fixed the creases and little nuances of the suit, he turned, "Hey Sanji-"

Sanji looked up, "Yah?"

"Who am I?" Zoro stuck an achingly stereotypical female pose; his hip sticking out, his chest puffed, and his chin tilted so that it seemed his neck would snap if he so much as twisted one degree more. With one hand he pretended to smooth hair over his left eye, and with the other, used two fingers to stimulate the smoking of a cigarette.

He had expected to Sanji to start pouring filth and venom; but the blond cook just chuckled, "Nice."

Zoro snickered as he abandoned the pose and bent over to retrieve his shoes, slipping them on quickly. He was stringing a black belt through his belt loops when he heard Sanji call his name, he looked up questioningly, "Yeah?"

Sanji, who had been sitting on the edge of his bed, flipped over on his stomach, and gave Zoro a small, sunny grin, "Who am I?" Zoro jaw dropped in indignation as Sanji's mouth slightly opened and his eyes half dropped, and small whimpers issued from his mouth.

"Uh-uh-Sanji-more-_more_ Sanji. Give it to me _please! I _want _it!"_ And if that wasn't enough to complete the image, the cook rocked his body into the bed, stimulating the scene of a very young, very eager, very submissive, very virginal maiden being fucked to pieces by the strong, experienced, and muscled cock of a very handsome, very dominant, very amused Prince Charming.

"I do _not beg!_ _You shitty cook_!" Zoro wasn't sure if that weird, crawling and creeping sensation in his stomach was revulsion or his pride swirling down the drain.

"Aw! Ugh! _More! More, Sanji, my love!"_ Sanji threw his hands over his head and let out a long and whiny moan. Absolutely ridiculous.

"_What the fuck!" _There was nothing else that could be said except that universal phrase. A good, healthy 'WTF' seemed most fitting to the situation.

In response, the cook spread his legs ridiculously wide, thrusting his ass out in a manner so absurdly emphasized, that it could ever only be utterly ludicrous or utterly erotic. He rubbed his blond head erratically on the bed sheets, "_Please, don't tease me Sanji! Make me come! Grab me, touch me! Please, honeybunch!" _The whiny, high falsetto made his ears _bleed. _

"_I do not do that you complete and utter moron!"_, Zoro was already thrusting his belt through the final loops and buckling it, meaning to launch himself over there and pummel Sanji for a while, then end their business with some sex, to show the cook just _who_ was the whiner and whimperer in their relationship. Who whimpered and who whipped.

Ceasing his embarrassing charade, at least for a while, Sanji turned to him, grinning, his cheek slightly squashed into the quilts, "You know what's scary? You immediately recognized yourself! I said, 'who am I?' I didn't say it was _you_."

Zoro slid his feet into his shoes, fuming, "Who the hell _else_ lets you in through the backdoor, idiot?" He was blushing, Zoro could feel the red blood blooming in his flushed cheeks, and he was willing to bet that he had blushed more because of Sanji then he had ever done in his entire life. Why did he suddenly have modesty and other virginal aspects when it came to the cook?

Sanji sat up, finally seeming to have tired of his role playing, "You ready? _Woah-" _ He was up and sprinting out of the room when he caught the look on Zoro's face.

~0~

Zoro caught him as the cook was fumbling to open the fancy latch on the front door. Sanji had a last second of freedom in which he turned around, grinning weakly, the knowledge of his imminent fate plastered all over his handsome features.

"Hey, Zoro, I was just joking-"

Zoro slammed him against the door and swallowed his words before they have the chance to come out. Sanji let out a muffled grunt as Zoro pressed up firmly on his body, hard enough for the door handle to be digging into the blond's back.

His hands are already sliding ruthlessly through the blond hair, stroking it roughly, pulling on it so that their kiss deepened. Zoro slid his tongue all over Sanji's mouth, licking the lips inside and out, working his mouth with bruising force. Sanji's eyelids were already drooping in exhaustion. His lean body slumped against the door; it was an open invitation.

Zoro seized his chance.

"Woah_! Hey!_ What the _fuck_ are you doing, shit head! Watch it!" For someone who had just been robbed of oxygen for a while, Sanji can holler like a referee who's just seen a particularly foul play. His hands clenched impotently on Zoro's suit for a second, helpless to attack. It was like having a pair of invisible handcuffs on the cook at all times. Not bad.

Zoro, who had simply dug his hands into the cook's forearms in a quick brutal motion, and whirled him around, sending him careening down the hallway. "You're going to actually get to act out that little fantasy, _honey."_

The cook had asked for it. And anyway, Zoro can feel the heat which seemed to envelop his lower body in a throbbing fog, kindling and beginning to burn. Hell, they're young. And what they were heading into was no child's game. When was the next time they'd manage to be alone? Better to take their chances while they could. Let the dice roll in their favor this time, yet again. Time to bet a little more.

Zoro's up in his face before Sanji can come after him, and their forearms quickly strain with muscles as they grapple down the hallway, Zoro inexorably pushing the cook back into the bedroom; but the cook making him fight and sweat for every single. Fucking. _Inch._

And they're _cussing_-

"You shitty mosshead, I hope you've said your last rites, because I swear, once I'm done, they'll have to identify you through your dental records, they'll scrape you off the fucking walls with a _spatula_-" Sanji's so caught up in spraying venom that he doesn't feel the proximity of his bed until the back of his thighs hit it.

And from there, the poor blond's gone. It just took one small, hearty shove and he's splayed across the sheets. Zoro, cat-like, was on the blonde, pressing him into the bed, grabbing his wrists and subduing him, molding crotches together, licking the neck beneath him like he had never tasted the skin before. Demanding his right to enter, insisting on pleasure to be given, _now_.

Sanji's still complaining, but it sounded weird. Weird, like he's being aroused by an extremely hot, sexually talented, suave, and otherwise divine man among men, and is trying desperately not to crumble like an oatmeal cookie.

Zoro allowed himself a second to feel sorry for the blond beneath him, then crushed it ruthlessly. "Give up.", he whispered into the neck, letting the words tickle the wetness there which he had just so recently left.

He felt the tension in Sanji's wrists fade, only to be replaced by a new type of pressure, and felt Sanji's subtle movements to position himself better without being too embarrassingly obvious, and Zoro knew he had won. But then, further denial on Sanji's part would have been plain masochism.

"That was fast, Sanji." He murmurs, before they're kissing like they'll never get a chance to do it again or forgotten that they can't have sex with their mouths.

The cook pulled apart first, a thin line of saliva connected their mouths, which were red and shiny, used. Slicked. "You know what they say, Zoro? When life gives you lemon…make lemonade.", Sanji said, his eyes all but exuding arousal.

He grinned down at Sanji, "Then you shouldn't have been bitching so much. You were very reluctant to make lemonade it seems." It's amazing how when the blood rushes to their penises, their brains are left with barely anything to operate on and the most idiotic things pop out of their mouths, seeming perfectly intelligent to the two.

There's annoyance in the blue eyes now, "Whatever. I _have _to complain. I gotta fight _some._ Like hell, I'm going to let you drag me in and take me on my own bed like your own personal whore." Sanji's openly grinning now, "If you want to fuck me, then you'll have to bring me presents to feather my nest and then do the mating dance."

"Creep."

"Hey, it's all psychological. Apparently need to complain a bit or else I feel less of a man. I read that somewhere."

Zoro snickered, getting it, "So it's not much about lemons?"

The cook snorts, "Wrong saying. So sue me. "If you can't beat them-"

"-then let them fuck you.", Zoro finished, before his hands were tearing off Sanji's pants.

His mind wandered helplessly back to the fantasies he keeps stored in secretive places. S_o hot when you're helpless, Sanji. I want to see you like that. Naked and being used. It's… breathtaking. More so because I know I would do anything for you, this is taking revenge for all that you've robbed me of. My life, my love, my sense of solitude and control-_

At least Sanji didn't complain as he was being stripped. It seemed that it had been a waste to dress. The cook, flushed, and hair messed up, just let out a sound halfway between a moan and a groan when Zoro jerked down his jeans, letting the cold air hit him where it was most sensitive. His knees jerked reflexively up before he slid them down slowly, exposing himself.

There was a rush of blood through his cock at the sight of Sanji shuddering, at the growing erection, at the way the pants constricted Sanji's powerful legs, effectively restraining his most potent weapons. Helpless. At the mercy of whoever. Yes, _what he wanted_.

"Hey, take it off-my pants-", Sanji snapped, as Zoro flipped him over on his stomach. Zoro eagerly compiled, dropping the black shoes at the foot of the bed with a thump, and then sliding off the pants themselves in a jingle of belt and car keys.

Something about the naked backside makes his toes curl and the hairs on his neck flare.

It's the first time he does it. And that's what he wants, the act surprises even him, his insides clench as he takes a step further in this strange realm of sex with a man. And if it surprises him, it must send Sanji over the top. It does.

"_God!_ What-_Zoro-_don't-", if a shudder could be vocalized, Sanji does it, breaking his sentence off, his back snapping up, hands curling, and shoulders hunching as if self-defense. Cook buried his face in the bed, panting. And is that a flare of goosebumps he sees?

Zoro licks the inside of his mouth, wonderingly, yes, he had just licked that hole where he had stuck his cock in before. It tasted like skin, slightly different, but then, he didn't want to delve into why that was so. Let Sanji be the flavor connoisseur in their relationship.

He licked the hole again, tickling it with the tip of his tongue, not daring to go further yet, and again Sanji cried out and clenched himself shut. Zoro can see the muscles moving erratically, trembling with emotion.

"Shhhh, Sanji.", he whispered, unsure if Sanji heard him or not. He's fascinated, enrapt with what he is doing and the effects it's producing. It's such a simple thing. He's licked everything else, sucked the man's cock. Why is this any different? Because it's so utterly personal? Because it's something that even Sanji himself isn't so well acquainted with?

Zoro lets his tongue slide out and slide all along the ridge, using his hands to lift the cook's legs, support them, spread them further, even though Sanji wants to close them, to end this intimate violation. But does he really? Zoro knows that if Sanji wanted to close his legs, then the cook would have been able to, no problem.

If Sanji really didn't like it, then Zoro would have had a foot sprouting from his stomach. His blood would have splashed all over these dark blue walls.

_He likes it. He feels good, _it_ feels good. He only says 'no' because inside he's screaming, 'yes'. And he says 'stop, don't', because he's stopping himself from screaming, 'more, harder'. It's...what did he call it-_

It's the flurry of his own thoughts that makes him slip his tongue inside, and Sanji gave a gargled cry, which tapered off into a low, whimpering moan. "…Zoro-"

Zoro wiggles his tongue inside, feeling like he's doing something incredibly naughty, unable to stop from trying his best to stick as much tongue inside as he possibly can. It's like a challenge-fuck that-it _is _a challenge. But it's an erotic one. What does that even mean?

He pulls out, surprised, when he hears Sanji's panting turn harsher, more labored, and with a greedy edge which makes his own cock ache and ache.

Cook's masturbating. The sleeve of his jacket is pushed up, as if he's got some serious work to do, and the other arm supports his body, acting both as a prop and as something for the cook to hide his burning face with. Zoro can see the movements of his hand, working himself, moving up and down the shaft tightly. Sanji had been jerking off to the movements of his tongue inside of him-

But-

Zoro flipped him around again, managing to slide out of his own pants, with his own raging erection, in only a few seconds, disregarding Sanji's ragged breath insults and complaints for having been so unceremoniously interrupted. His protests are few-the cook's hand already has wandered between his legs and his head thrown back, eyes filled with sex, he takes himself in his own hand on the road to orgasm.

But that's not in Zoro's plans, he panted, "Oh, fuck no, not yet Sanji." He grabbed Sanji's hand and seized the cook's dick instead, pointing at him, in his grip. It's hot, and feels so ready in his hand. He squeezed it, using the tip of his thumb to play with the bottom of the head. Having a dick in hand, he's discovered, is a very pleasurable sensation. It just feels so _kinky_. So simple.

"What the hell are you waiting for?", Sanji said, face all skewed up in question, "Some sort of sign? Flash of a comet?" The cook laughed at his own witticism, though Zoro really didn't see any humor in it. It seemed that Sanji was one of those whose random meter, already abnormally high, skyrocketed during sex. Ah well, you learned to love their little quirks and annoying nuances. Well, at least he hoped so.

Zoro was right about to ask where the hell did Sanji store his Vaseline, when the small tube of lubricant nearly flew into his hands. The impudent blond Babylonian whore!

He untwisted the cap and checked out the label. Zoro had to make a double-take, actually believing that his eyes were playing tricks on him. "Sanji, what the-" They're pretty high right now, it's not the perfect time to have a debate, but they can't help their fucking natures.

"Pretty dank, huh?"

"What…Isn't Nutella _food_? You know, edible?", Zoro wasn't sure whether he should be turned on or wilting rapidly. "I thought you didn't fight with food-" [1]

Sanji shrugged, "No, no it's not edible, it's just a scent. I thought it'd be fun to try it out."

"You have questionable ideas of _fun_."

"Are you going to use it or not-"

"Did you _buy-_"

"_Nami_ left it here-"

"Am I supposed to believe that-"

"-I sure didn't buy it. Will you fucking use-"

"I'm not sure how I feel about smearing my dick in chocolate…"

The world paused for a while as it tried to deal with the sheer stupidity of it all. Crickets chirped, and somewhere, far off, a baby started to cry.

Sanji and Zoro cackled for a while, though at best it was breathless laughter from the prolonged delay of their erections.

"Okay, just try the damn thing."

Zoro shrugged and brought the tube to his nose to smell it, "Hey…not bad."

He ended up smearing his dick and Sanji's hole in chocolate.

"Feeling adventurous?", Sanji inquired as Zoro shoved himself forward, lifting and rearranging the cook's body so that they were both ready. Sanji's legs slid around his waist happily enough.

Zoro placed himself with his head prodding Sanji's entrance, feeling the sweat trickle down his chest in anticipation. "Why do you ask?" He wants to watch the cook's face while he enters, but somehow the place where their sex is right about to merge seems to mesmerize him.

"We're facing each other.", Sanji grinned up at him. He was casual, the coolest motherfucker who ever sported a _toug_. What he wasn't was a man whose buttocks were quivering slightly at the lengthy presence positioned to what seemed the very gate of his being. Done it before, they'd done it before, they'd done it before-_but still. _Again, so soon? Give me back my virginity man!

Zoro shrugged, his jacket rumpled up with all the activity, "Complaints? Comments? Concerns? Critiques?"

"No, not really.", it was amazingly hard for Sanji not to crack up. Zoro was _hilarious_, though his humor sometimes shone out in the oddest places. "But we're having sex when we're supposed to be-_oh-fucking-shiiiiiit."_

"Shut up when I'm fucking to you.", Zoro said, sliding himself in, pushing the head of his erection with all the precision and control that he could muster. Kind of hard to not just rip Sanji a new one when there was this burning _need,_ wrenching itself from the slit to his cock all the way to the pit of his stomach. He wanted _more, _he wanted _fast_. All those words which slurred into a delicious, murky soup in his mind. Powerful words, powerful feelings.

Sanji took him in, straining back against him-try as he might to not to, "come on come on come one come _on_." Guttural pants filled the room, the unlovely breaths and grunts of air. And Sanji has the time to think that rough sex is never a pretty thing, it's intense, powerful, _impactful_. That's why-

He's getting more comfortable with this-this whole man sex idea, his body responds better. Sanji can actually feel Zoro scraping past his skin and muscles and sliding inside, it's just not pain, its _sensation_. He bets that he can actually feel the shape of Zoro's head if he concentrates, though why he would want to do that, he's not entirely certain.

Sanji knows he's comfortable when he lets himself ask for it. It's just too much to wait and let Zoro do the work. "Yeah-just fill me the _fuck_ up, _ugh-yes _" Jerking himself forward as Zoro thrust, tilting his pelvis in contortionist positions so that-

OH-

The world burned for what seemed like forever in a milisecond.

"God, Zoro, God-again, _again_-" Sanji doesn't give a fuck that he's being too eager. Because anyone with half a working brain cell can tell that he's not begging, he's fucking _ordering_. Zoro's inside him? No, he's around Zoro. Zoro's fucking him? Fuck _that_, he's doing Zoro's dick a favor.

And anyway, the prostate. Zoro had brushed it before, it had by no means been the lost city of Atlantis or the hidden sea locker of Davy Jones, but this was-_direct and full on stimulation_. Just _right there. _

Sanji wants to throw his legs open, spread them as far as he can go, feel Zoro's cock plunge all the way through him and sexually violate him in all the ways possible. He needs Zoro to just take his body and plunder it mercilessly-

_Ahh, shit!_ _Ah, God, I can't-_Sanji's inner cries broke out as he _really_ cried out, his strong, smoky baritone jagged and discordant. It was-that-that place inside of him which threw everything into the blinding, trembling, realm of pleasure. It had ceased to feel _good_, and was now _vital. _There was nothing beyond feeling that microcosm of an orgasm.

It was motion personified, everything wrapped in a bundle of nerves that they called the prostate because they couldn't call it euphoria. It's burning, clinching, tightening, shining, galvanizing emotion. Its Zoro's exposed patches of skin, his neck and inner thighs and lower belly shining with sweat that _he_ had produced. It's as if he imploded sweetly inside, the entire collapse of everything inside. Tight heat that produced blinding light.

Sanji rides the rocking explosions under Zoro's eyes, spurting semen with almost every hit that nudged him into that shivering, shuddering sensation. He closed his eyes, opened them at times and watched Zoro; Sanji simply did nothing so he could just _ride_. Laziness sometimes produces the greatest sensations.

Thrust, thrust, _thrust. _Unrestricted cries and rocking of hips; that's all they had melted into. Sweaty bodies in heat, that's all they were.

Orgasm comes creeping in, beginning with the feelers in his lower stomach, tense, tight fingers of tension groping him. Sanji can't think, and gives in eagerly to the mounting sensation. His panting becoming more erratic, his cries more hitched and broken, Zoro's name gets choked out instead of moaned. And then, another shuddering impact and he's freezing, freezing, tighter than he has ever been.

_Oh-zoro-zoro-ahhhhhhgod-zoro!_

Then his desire splashes out on his lover's stomach, and the relief is great. A feeing almost as great as when he feels Zoro's orgasm fill him with warmth

Zoro collapsed on Sanji, panting. And they rested for a while. Suits crumpled between them and muscles slowly relaxing as they came down, slowly.

Both wondering if it would be a while before they made love again.

~0~

At least they were half-clothed already, so dressing back up proved to be quicker than both of them had imagined. As Sanji was hopping back into his pants, jumping from one foot to another as he fitted a black shoe on, feeling as if his ass was blushing, it was still warm and throbbing; Zoro turned to him-

"Do I have jizz on me…anywhere?"

Sanji tried not to cry. Something deep inside urged him to kill Zoro now, before the brute reproduced.

"You ask that in the tone of, 'did I spill any food on my shirt?' It highly disturbs me."

"Your_ face_ highly disturbs me."

A short, brief struggle in the hallway in which only a minimum of Sanji's possessions were broken.

"Where the hell are you going?", Sanji demanded, rearranging some of the paintings which had fallen off the wall from the number of time he had _slammed _Zoro into the wall, pausing to shoot Zoro a glare as the other man started to open the front door.

Zoro gave him a '_where else?'_ look, "To your car. We got to go _now_-" He probably is going to be damned forever for pausing to have sex with his lover before rushing to see his friend. But hell, he's been damned for a while now. Too many skeletons in the closet. But all in all, Zoro doesn't regret having sex-he is only human, and there were times when he needs to keep sane.

"Fuck that, moss. You said we're going to a hot strip club, right? Well, we're going in _style_. I can't have the ladies laughing at me." The cook pulled out his cell phone.

Zoro made an '_oh, Jesus, save us' _face, "Only _you_ would call _strippers_ ladies. Only _you_."

~0~

The long, sleek, black limousine arrived in ten minutes. The chauffeur, a tough looking customer with a pair of classy, large glasses with large, orange, circular lenses, opened the limousine's door for them and bowed them in.

"Where to gentlemen?", the chauffeur asked politely, the cool earrings he sported jangled colorfully.

"Amazon Lily." Sanji answered casually enough, picking a piece of invisible lint off his vest and looking off negligently into the imaginary sunset.

Zoro had already slid on a pair of dark-tinted glasses that Sanji had provided him. Cook had done the same, though anybody who knew him would probably recognize the eternal coffin-nail in his mouth.

Sanji must have thought the same thing about him, once they had slid inside the car, he threw Zoro's bandana at him, "Put that on. Your moss stands out."

"Thanks.", Zoro tied the bandana around his head so it covered the eccentric hair color, "Can't believe I forgot this…And maybe you should take the cig out of your mouth, which, by the way, looks like someone really talented has been kissing you."

"Want some booze? This thing's loaded.", Sanji invitingly shook a Caguama in his direction.

Zoro suddenly held up his hand, his eyes wide.

The smile dropped from Sanji's face, "What? What is it?"

"Sanji Blackleg, take good heed of what I am right about to do, as this is a rare occurrence which occurs once in every millennium. Zoro Roronoa is going to _refuse a beer_."

"_Ohhh_ shit, I think I just_ crapped_ my _pants._"

Zoro laughed, "I just had to say that. But anyway, I'm going in sober, with full use of my brain-"

"-which you don't have on a regular basis-" Sanji interjected, popping open the beer for himself. The sound of the fizz actually _hurt _Zoro.

"-which means no drinking, even if I can handle a six pack right now, _easy."_

Sanji took a swig and smacked his lips appreciatively, "Beer…Originated when one of the Greek gods discovered masturbation."

"I feel like I should be smoking a cigarette…"

"Hey, tell me that joke, the Fungo-Bungo joke. Pass the time."

"Fungo..? Oh, the unga-bunga joke? All right-you'll love this-three men out hunting get lost in the jungle okay? They get captured by angry savages with tribal tattoos, skulls hanging from their belts, and human testicles dangling from their ears-the whole deal. Right?"

"You'd fit right in Zoro."

"Shut up. So, the tribal leader brings the three men before him and says, 'you have trespassed in the sacred jungle of the God Bongo-Bongo, you can either be killed and have your blood spilled on the loam in order to redeem the land or you can undergo the cleansing ritual of Unga-bunga-"

"Which is…?"

"I'm _getting_ to it-Unga-bunga and go free." Zoro paused. "So of course the three men say, 'oh, we want to live, what's this Unga-Bunga thing?' And the chieftain goes, 'Unga-Bunga' is the ritual where all the men in the tribe-fifty three-have harsh and passionate anal sex with you in order to rid the demons from the environment-"

"That doesn't make sense."

"_Shut up_. So the first man thinks about it and then says, 'I love my life, I have a wife and two beautiful little girls. I'm young so I have my whole life in front of me' I'm not gay, but I'll do this ritual."

Sanji winces, "Oh, god."

Zoro continues, "So he does the torturous ritual, but thanks to his hardy spirit he manages to live through it. Limping, he walks off after the natives have pointed him in the right direction. Second guy goes, 'I admire that man. I, too, have a good life. I have two mistresses and a huge mansion with a Mercedes Benz. No way am I giving that up. I'm not gay and I've never had anal sex, but I'll do Unga-Bunga"

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"So the second guy goes through the ritual. He ends up crying and screaming from the pain, but he too gets through it thanks to his determination. He walks away free. All right, third guy. The poor guys been watching his friends go through this grueling ritual right? He's set his mind, he says, 'Fuck no! It looks painful as fuck and I'm not gay! I'd rather keep my manly pride than take it up the rear! Screw this shit! I choose death!'"

"Third guy's a prick.", Sanji comments, looking interested in spite of himself.

"The chieftain asks him if he's sure, the guy says, 'As hell!'. And the chieftain says, 'All right. Death by unga-bunga.'"

They both crack up, wheezing and slapping backs.

Sanji wiped tears away, "Good one…good one…"

Zoro shoves Sanji playfully, thinking, that yep, they're both damned. But hell, they'll have a fucking good time. Why shouldn't they laugh? The time was coming to a close when they were going to have the good fortune to laugh and love freely. He can feel it, the inexorable rise of the shadows, the inevitable dropping of the night.

~0~

They're almost there. Amazon Lily. Night has fallen on the Grand Line and the moonlight showed no discernible ripples on the surface of that strange and crooked ocean. Zoro reached out briefly and squeezed Sanji's shoulder.

"Got your game face on?"

The cook's eyes shone oddly, their dark depths reflecting pinpricks of light from the streetlights outside, "Let's roll baby. Game on."

Zoro nodded, "Remember-I'm Zoro and you're my friend from Far Away, who goes by the name of Sergio."

"And I don't have a last name."

"If anyone asks, which they won't. Don't say anything that stands out and don't try to make up things. Either you don't know or you're not telling. Think you can handle that?", Zoro glanced out the window, they'd be at the very entrance to Amazon Lily in less than a minute-he can see the lighted entrance ahead. It's a good thing that no one _he_ knows has the money for the entrance fee.

"Right. I get it.", Sanji nods, looking ready to rock n' roll. Ready to bop and hop, jizz and jazz, snap his fingers and dance a jig. Guy wasn't nervous, but he sure had a lot of nerves jolting electricity through his frame.

The intercom on the speaker buzzed, "Gentlemen, your stop is approaching. Where should I drop you off?"

Zoro leaned forward and pressed the button, "Drop us right in the front-thanks."

"But of course."

A minute later, the two men felt the limousine start to slow down, the blazing neon sign which proclaimed the building on the right side of the street to be _Amazon_ _Lily_, luminescent. A brilliantly iridescent serpent coiled itself across the neon letters, its red tongue flickering in and out.

Zoro can_ feel_ Ace, nearby.

The chauffeur drew up to the curb and hurried out to open the door for them. They got out, oddly silent for once, and after waving the driver goodbye, Zoro took out the crumpled all-access pass out of his suit pocket, flashed it to the pair of bouncers at the door, who bowed reverently, and feeling like he was in a dream, walked in, with Sanji close at his heels.

~0~

The first thing he notices is the sheer amount of people crowding the double deck club, and the amazing diversity of the women. It seems like there are so many more females than males, at least ten to one. Amazing, for a strip club.

But when Sanji mentioned this fact to Zoro, the other man just nodded, "It's because this isn't just a seedy little strip club, this is _Amazon Lily." _Zoro said it so Sanji could hear the capitals and italics and underline. "The staff is pure women, and a lot of the patrons come to just surround themselves with women. It makes them feel prestigious. It's more like the girls hang out in here and the guys pay through their noses to enter in this world.", Zoro explained, looking around distractedly. Looking for people he should avoid, or maybe even a sign of Ace, though Luffy had said that the firebug was in the Arena.

Zoro shrugged, and pointed in the direction of a large stage which dominated the lower level, lit with brilliant neon pink and decorated with bright silver poles, some of which were filled with neon tubing, "But this _is_ a strip club though-some do dance, though mostly for fun. If the patrons beg hard enough for it. It's not a job requirement. Which is amazing enough in of itself."

Sanji decided it was a good idea to wipe the drool off his chin. He turned to Zoro accusingly, "You seem to know a lot about this place."

Zoro rolled his eyes at the sudden suspicion, "Everybody knows about this place. Anyway, I dated the owner for twenty-one hours before she dumped me."

The music thrummed and throbbed in their ears, loud and persuasive enough for Sanji to want to slink over to the dance floor and grind against some barely-clad bodies. The women all were wearing what seemed to be the club uniform: a small bra and tiny little flap of cloth covering their sex. All were made of fur-cheetah, leopard, bear. And Sanji even saw some crocodile and snake print. It was sexier than just a plain bra and bikini, it was primal and triggered something dominant and chauvinistic inside of him. Was he going to have to walk through the club with a permanent erection?

It was hard to not openly gawk at the women on the strip poles as they strutted on stage in tight fitting bras, their breasts shiny and full, luscious curves straining against restrictive material, grinding the poles, their legs wrapped around cold metal-

"Hey, I know what you're thinking about, and I am _not _happy.", Zoro muttered, throwing an elbow into his side, a little harder than was necessary, "I'm a guy too, okay? But _you are taken_."

"Yeah, okay, okay…"

The moss gritted his teeth, looking around, straining his neck to look above the crowd's heads, "I don't even know where or what the Arena is, Luffy said 'in the back'-"

"Well, well, well-if it isn't Teach's children."

Both Zoro and Sanji turned sharply, only to behold a pale man with long blond hair and strange triangular markings on his tall forehead. He had pants and a white dress shirt, completely unbuttoned, and in his hand, strangely, he held a card.

Zoro felt the bell of recognition clamor wildly in his head, but the name and face eluded him, "Teach's my leader, yeah. Who are you and what do you want?" Polite yet confidant. Not threatening, but exuding the 'don't fuck with me' vibe. You had to get it right, just right. To survive.

"Do not worry.", the pale man said, though his tone was far from reassuring, it was a flat monotone, seemingly deeply introspective, "The cards have declared that this day for you will not end in catastrophe." The man turned the card so that they could see what was writ upon its face. It was the tarot card-_The Sun._

"I don't know who you are.", Zoro repeated, wanting to shift himself in front of Sanji, a ridiculous masculine desire to protect, urging him-yet he didn't dare. He must give away nothing. Nothing.

"Basil Hawkins.", the man said, and flipped the card around again so that the sun was hidden, and immediately flipped it around again, this time it was _The Magician. _

Zoro chuckled, his heart thumping slowly in his chest, _how could he not have recognized the face?_ "First time I meet a Supernova-I'm honored."

"Not so. You had the pleasure of meeting Bonny before.", Hawkins said, and slid the tarot card back into the thick deck in his other hand, shuffling it methodically once it was in. His pale eyes seemed to stare right through Zoro into some other strange and wondrous galaxy where the gods still demanded human blood.

"Ah, I remember that.", Zoro said, nodding his head in thanks, "What can I do for you…Hawkins?" First name basis…first name basis. To call him Mr. Basil would state his submission. Zoro knew that as surely as he knew that his hair was green or that he didn't like cauliflower.

Hawkins nodded slowly, "Would you like to come to our table and explain the whirlpool which has erupted in the water? I am sure you would have the time before you visit your friend." Pale eyes stared at him from out of a pale face.

Zoro automatically stiffened, "What are you talking about?" Rule Number One: Give away nothing. And if you must give _something_, let them drag it out of you, inch by miserable inch.

"Again, do not worry. No one but I knows that Firefist is here.", Hawkins's hands shuffled and shuffled, seeming to cut the deck as smoothly as silk.

"Then-how-", Zoro was reluctant to even admit that Hawkins was right. But he was trapped-Basil Hawkins-a man he had just barely met-seemed to know everything. From the fact that Ace was hiding in the steamy depths of Amazon Lily to the fact that he had just had hot, sweaty man sex with the blond beside him. "How do you know-?"

Hawkins's hands stilled and suddenly flipped a card from his deck. It was _The Hanged Man._ It was enough of an answer.

Zoro eyed him, "You seem to know a lot already, I don't think you'd need me to tell _you_ anything.", he remarked, he could feel Sanji next to him, pretending to be watching the dancers on the poles, his body language demonstrating anything but attentiveness. But that the blond was listening sharply was a fact of which Zoro had no doubt.

For the first, the blond man in front of them chuckled slightly. It was an awkward, rusty sound-as if the laughter had been drawn from deep inside a well that had long been thought dry, "That is true. And I recall my lie. I invited you over so I could read your spread, if you do not mind."

"My spread?" Images of peanut butter and marmalade and table clothes invaded his mind.

"Your cards.", Sanji suddenly spoke up from beside him, not even bothering to turn around, "Your fortune. Your fate. Your tarot." He fell silent, as if he never spoken in the first place.

Zoro smiled politely at Hawkins, "Look, I'm sorry. But I think you know that I don't have time for this. I have to-" Rule Number Two: Try your fucking hardest not to directly refuse when the individual in question is much, _much_ more powerful than you. Evade instead.

"You have to see Portgas, I understand. And I assure you that this will not take longer than five minutes. I have not seen someone with your aura in a long time. It intrigues me. Allow me to read you, perhaps you will learn valuable information." Hawkins slid another card out of the deck, this one had a picture of a colorful wheel, adorned with ritualistic ideograms, it said, _The Wheel of Fortune._

Zoro was right about to open his mouth to refuse, before a staggering idea hit him. Farfetched, yes. But so were Luffy's instincts. So was his three-sword fighting style. So was the _world._ "All right. But can I ask _you_ a few questions, after? Answer with your cards?"

Hawkins nodded, "That can be done."

"All right, come on." Zoro motioned to Sanji, and warily followed Hawkins as the tall blond led them deeper into the jungle and into the lair of the demons.

~0~

"Ah, so Teach spoils his children now?", a voice called out as soon as Zoro and Sanji entered what seemed to be an exclusive VIP room, with a huge one-way window which looked out into the club covering one entire wall. The room was filled with plush velvet couches and strange, organically shaped tables. Abstract art covered the pitch black walls, making the room that much more surreal. Zoro saw Dali's _The Persistence of Memory _and _The Lugubrious Game _on the far wall before he turned back to Hawkins.

"I do not think so.", Hawkins answered in that flat monotone, "These are here only this once."

Zoro, who had been craning his head around to identify the speaker, turned back to Hawkins as the blond sat down at a couch and centered his deck on the table, and motioned for Zoro to sit opposite.

"You seem to have grown attached with them Hawkins.", the voice continued, sounding amused, "You don't read everyone's fortune. You don't even read my fortune! Not fair, my dear magician, simply not fair."

"That is because every time I attempt to read you, the same cards choose to represent you. I've come to believe that you are switching them in some way." Hawkins answered, and suddenly thrusting his hand forward, knocked the deck of cards across the table, sending the cards spreading across the table in a small flood. He motioned for Zoro to pick one with its back turned, "Tell me what it is."

Zoro reached forward and picked one up at random, and on another nod from Hawkins, flipped it.

A shiver of emotion wracked his suddenly as he saw the image scribed on the card-it was a parlor trick, a coincidence, a quirky twist of fate, he knew that it meant nothing, he wasn't superstitious but still-

Hawkins looked at him questioningly, "What card is it?"

"De-", Zoro coughed and cleared his throat, "Death. It's death. What does the mean? "

"For you, nothing.", Hawkins reached forward and plucked the card from his numb fingers, "It is that man's card."

"And it is such a beautiful card.", the voice murmured, right next to his ear, and flinching instinctively, Zoro wrenched his head away, turning back almost immediately, heart thumping-

"What the-" Sanji muttered somewhere next to him, but thankfully the cook shut up before he might have offended a man whom no one in their right mind would dare to cross. This time the face and the name came quickly and simultaneously to Zoro's buffered mind.

He was a man of infinite poise and possessed of an inner tranquility which would have the envy of many a saint. A man wearing a yellow and black sweater stood quietly at his elbow, smiling softly. A small beard tickled the very tip of the man's chin, a small blackness on an otherwise tanned face. The black eye makeup encircling his black eyes went well with the ritualistic tattoos which graced his forearms.

"Another Rookie.", Zoro said, grinning, "Is this where you guys pass the time? Pleasure." He stuck out a hand.

Law shook his hand, his grip strong, "I'd do anything to get my magician to read my fortune. I follow him wherever he goes."

"I am not your magician Trafalgar.", Hawkins automatically said, carefully reassembling the spilled cards back into the deck. "Now, Roronoa, if you would look here and concentrate on the cards."

Zoro turned back to the magician, "Okay. So I just think about my life or something?"

"Yes."

"I think I'll just sit back with your friend here then.", Law remarked and moved over to sit next to Sanji, much to Zoro's inner chagrin, "We'll enjoy the show, won't we Mr. Handsome Unknown Blond?" He smiled at Sanji in a way Zoro didn't much care for. Though it wasn't a malevolent smile, or even an unfriendly one.

"The name's Sergio.", Sanji said coolly, and taking out his most treasured accessory, offered a smoke to Law, "Pleasure to meet you, though I don't know who you are, like my friend does, sorry."

Law took the cigarette, and leaned forward to the flickering lighter to light up, "All is forgiven my dear Sergio…and believe me, the pleasure's all mine."

"Roronoa, would you please concentrate on the cards?", Hawkins's voice broke into the fog that was busily attempting to strangle Zoro's mind. It was fucking hard trying to concentrate when Law and Sanji-otherwise known as Sergio-were busy flirting over there. Honestly, if it wasn't strippers, it was wanted men. Sanji seemed like a magnet for vice.

"Yeah-okay.", Zoro tore his mind away from philandering blond cooks and refocused on Hawkins. "I'm concentrating." One thing was for certain though, Sanji would need some educational assistance, it seemed that this past afternoon had not been enough.

"Think of your life and how you have lived it.", Hawkins intoned, "Think of where your existence lies in the grand drama of the universe. Think of your actions and their consequences. Reflect upon you and the innermost recesses of your person. If you have a God, think of Him." The cards in his hands moved and undulated surreally.

Hawkins's voice washed over him, nearly sedative in quality, and Zoro briefly closed his eyes and he obeyed the magician's orders.

"This is who you are."

The magician stopped the movements of his hands and took the first few cards from the deck and placed them in a cross-like formation on the table, face down. In the middle of the cross, he flipped over a card. Zoro's eyes were stony, his guard up once again.

He really didn't care what cards were drawn, didn't really believe that Hawkins would predict his future or tell him what day he was fated to die. It wasn't in his spirit to sit back and be told what fate-that cruel and oft times petty bitch-had chosen to do with him. Zoro was of the opinion that he could wrench his own destiny open with pure force of will. There was nothing that he could not overcome. But he fully intended to ask Hawkins a few questions after, and if he was right, then the answers would be worth hearing. At least worth sitting through this gypsy ritual.

"You are _Strength_.", Hawkins said, in the voice of a pagan judge, "Your distinguishing characteristic is your fortitude of character, your ability to rise over superficial nuances, and your talent with controlling your own emotions and mind."

"He's also obsessed with training.", Sanji remarked, amusement in his voice. Zoro, chancing a sneak peek of the cook, noticed that Law had thrown an arm on the sofa behind Sanji. They looked very cozy with each other all right. He made a face at the blond and turned back to the cards.

Law chuckled, "At least he's not _The Fool_ like Garp's grandson , eh Hawkins?"

"The D. was _The Fool_, that is correct."

"Luffy?", Zoro asked, surprised, "You guys met him?"

"Yes. The Strawhat.", Law answered, smiling, "He was all of the fool. The greatest one I've ever seen, and I say that with the utmost admiration."

Hawkins smiled, which, Zoro was beginning to believe, was a rare occurrence, "He comes here often because the Madame of the house allows him free food and unlimited access of the facilities. I was rather intrigued by the shine which surrounded him, and I asked to read him."

"Though I'm sure that Strawhat didn't understand three quarters of what you told him, Hawkins.", Law said, "He said it was all very mysterious, but that he was hungry." Beside him, Sanji laughed and Law grinned in response.

Zoro ignored them, "I can see how I'm Strength, if that helps. It sounds like me."

"It _is_ you." Hawkins answered, and then flipped the card behind _Strength_ and placed it on top. It said _Eight of Swords_. "This is the situation you find yourself in. The _Eight of Swords_ is a powerful card, it is heavy and overbearing and marks despair, as a result of the strong undercurrents which it attracts. Strong undercurrents which might bring things to light, things that should have best stayed in the waters."

A brief, pitying glance which he did not see.

Zoro nodded, following the conversation dubiously. Well at least, Hawkins wasn't ridiculously off the mark, though maybe it would have been better if he had been. This was a little uncanny. But then, hell, he didn't know shit about tarot; Hawkins could be pulling his interpretations straight out his skinny asshole for all he knew.

Hawkins flipped the card beneath the swords card, "This is the situation in which you were so recently in." It was the _Knave of Money._ "A rather upsetting card, Roronoa. He signifies disinterested work which only brings superficial wealth as an award."

"Well, I sure wasn't depressed about anything I was doing.", Zoro said, shrugging.

The magician glanced at him briefly before turning another card, this one on top of the _Eight of Swords_, "This is the situation which influences you the most directly in your life, and thus, it crowns your representative card." This time it was _The Lovers_. Zoro nearly choked, and out of the corner of his eye, he was pretty sure that Sanji shifted restlessly before stilling again.

"_The Lovers_ does not necessarily mean physical love, though it can.", Hawkins continued, "Nevertheless, it is a strong, positive card which symbolizes harmony and union. Perhaps that is what you are experiencing at the moment, and your future actions will be influenced by your need to maintain this harmony."

"Yeah, something like that.", Zoro nodded, trying to appear casual, and thinking that he was at least partially succeeding. He was fast regretting letting Hawkins do this. It was a little like stripping naked and allowing Hawkins to observe his anatomy for the devil's mark.

Hawkins flipped the two cards on the right and left of the middle card simultaneously, "These represent the two influences directly working on you from outside forces. _The_ _Hanged Man_ and _Death_."

Law, from where he sat beside Sanji, began clapping immediately, "So it seems that you and I are going to be seeing much more of each other, Zoro! My card appeared in your spread!"

"Really?", Zoro asked Hawkins, eyebrow raised. If it was true, then it was unwelcome news.

"No.", the magician shook his head, "Trafalgar represents _Death, _but _Death_ does not represent Trafalgar. In your case, _Death_ is the symbol of inevitability, of something marching towards you with an unyielding and endless advance. However-"

"I wouldn't mind if we saw much more of each other however, Roronoa.", Law cut in, sounding highly amused, "Especially if you surround yourself with such excellent tastes in company."

Zoro gritted his teeth, helpless to walk over there casually and separate Trafalgar Law's ballsack from the rest of his body. The man was so obviously hitting on Sanji it wasn't even funny. Law must like them on both sides of the line; he was wearing Maybelline eyeliner for fuck's sake!

"Will you heed silence Trafalgar? I am trying to explain this to Roronoa.", Hawkins said, faint annoyance clouding his usually emotionless voice, "As I was saying-_Death_ signifies the inevitable, but in relation to the cards that surround, it also reveals something else. In this case, _Death_ followed _The Lovers_-signifying the inevitable end of harmony and union, or perhaps a relationship if you are in one."

"Oh.", Zoro said, not sure what else to say. He wanted to tell himself that this wasn't putting creeping feelers of paranoia into his soul, but it was hard to ignore the clamoring voice in his head. Him and Sanji ending? That was the loudest piece of shit that he had ever heard. Sanji _owned _him. It was like hearing someone declare the end of the world. Unbelievable, yet disturbing.

"_The Hanged Man_ indicates abandonment, destruction, renunciation. At times, he is a martyr.", Hawkins eyed the card sadly, "But in relation to _Death_, it means death with bad consequences or death produced by evil or criminal means. Your spread is unfortunate, Roronoa."

Zoro was at a loss for words. Inside he was thinking, '_What the fuuuuuck….'_

"And lastly, the card of the future.", Hawkins flipped the last card and placed it on top of the card in the middle, "The _Three of Swords_." The magician paused, seeming to look at the cards in sorrow.

Zoro broke the thick silence, "Which means?"

"It is a good card.", Hawkins intoned, "but it is a hard card. It comes with a price. The _Three of Swords_ symbolizes struggle upheld by mental strength, gain by force of battle. That is your future. You will have a decent end. Not a fine, happy ending-just decent, and you will have to fight for it."

"But Roronoa's not afraid of a little work, am I right Zoro?", Law asked.

Zoro nodded, thinking that it was the least politest thing he could get away with. He turned back to Hawkins, "Is that it? Can I ask my questions now?"

Hawkins swept the cards up, "Ask. Though you might not get the answers you want."

"You've heard about all this thing with Ace, right? I know he's innocent. Who burned down Galley-La, and who framed Ace? That's what I want to know."

There was a few seconds pause as Hawkins pondered, his hands back to shuffling his beloved cards, "That Portgas did nothing I do not doubt, for the Hanged Man rarely is hanged for the crime he, in truth, commits. He smiles on the gallows because he is innocent."

"Finally someone who fucking believes me!", Zoro cried, slamming his fist on the table, "No one fucking does!"

"I believe Ace didn't do it either.", Law remarked, "He's not the type. It was Lucchi, I'm sure."

"Was it?", Zoro asked Hawkins.

In response, Hawkins drew another card from the deck and placed it on the table, face up. "_The Hermit. _A secret which will be revealed. The cards refuse to tell me Roronoa."

"But what do _you _think?", he insisted. "Lucchi? CP9?"

"Perhaps. Lucchi believes he is _Judgment_.", Hawkins placed the respective tarot card on the table, "When he is really _The Moon_-illusion. Together, the cards mean false judgment and faulty justice. Or perhaps it was Teach himself." Hawkins drew out a third card and placed it between the other two.

_The Tower of Destruction. _

"The imaginary creations produced by the desires of man. A very powerful card, Roronoa.", Hawkins said, "That Teach does not like his son is no secret, and that his son is powerful and stands to inherit millions upon his father's death is common knowledge."

"Ace would never kill Blackbeard-"

"Killers see murderers everywhere.", Law said, his voice serious for once.

"Shit, but this means…", Zoro kneaded his forehead with his knuckles, if Blackbeard was the one who had triggered this whole fuck-up, then that meant that Zoro and Ace, and the rest of the members who supported Ace were fucked. They would have no protection, from anyone. Lucchi would have been saying the truth, and had merely played on his fears to see if Zoro revealed anything.

_If_ it had been Blackbeard.

Why would Blackbeard take out Ace in such a way though? Wouldn't it have been easier to just shoot his friend in the back one day, horrible as that sounded?

Zoro stood up abruptly. "I need to talk to Ace." Sanji got up to, and Law followed. Hawkins merely sat, watching them with his pale eyes.

"Well it was a pleasure to meet you two.", Law said, smiling, "If you need help, just hit me up. I gave Sergio my number, Zoro. Don't hesitate to call. I like you two."

"Thanks.", Zoro muttered, and turning back to Hawkins, "Thanks, Hawkins."

The magician picked up another card and showed it to him, "Wait, for it seems _The Empress _has arrived."

"Is that supposed to be you, Luffy?", a woman's voice called out happily, and turning Zoro saw a woman descending from a staircase on the other side of the room.

Except, what a _woman_.

Zoro could feel himself trying not to salivate, and somewhere behind him, Sanji was openly panting. Huge breasts, creamy white skin, long luscious legs and gorgeous black hair, dazzling blue eyes, she got more and more beautiful as she approached. The red Chinese-looking dress she was wearing was two piece, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her smile was simply stunning.

"Hancock…", he croaked, "It's been a while."

"Oh-wonderful-goddess-of-my-heart!", Sanji threw himself at Hancock's feet, "Oh, I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Imbeciles!", Hancock glared at them, her smile fading as she realized that there was no Strawhat present, "Where is Luffy! If you have so much as harmed a hair on his gorgeous head…!"

"No!", Zoro said, "He let me borrow the pass for a day." He fumbled it out of his suit pocket and showed it to Hancock as if this would somehow prove his innocence. Though why Hancock would be so furious over "gorgeous Luffy's" head, he couldn't fathom.

"When my bouncers informed me that the pass had been used, I immediately went to the kitchens were Luffy always goes.", Hancock said, frowning, "When he hadn't come in thirty minutes I, naturally, investigated. Is he not coming then?"

_What's with this fixation with-What the fuck! She…likes Luffy? That explains the pass-_

"Not today, but um-", Zoro thought quickly as he saw the thunderstorms brewing on Hancock's forehead, "He said that he was going to come tomorrow and that he missed you a lot and that he was thinking about how much he loved you." He shot a weird look at Sanji as the blond made strange mewling noises at Hancock's feet.

Hancock melted, her smile show out again as she fairly squealed, "I see…Well then, I must wait, for true love cannot be rushed! I knew Luffy loved me! There never was any doubt! Ahhh, my life is complete….Well, what can I do for you…though you are here to see…him, I believe?"

"Right." Was it so easy, then? Zoro was surprised he didn't have to jump through rings of fire or break diamonds in his bare fists to get to his friend, at last. He also noticed the tactful omission.

"Follow me then.", Hancock purred, turning around, a small white cloak on her shoulders wafting out as she moved, "I will take you to him."

"All right, thanks. Bye you guys.", Zoro said to the other two men, before he snatched Sanji up from where he was squirming on the floor and followed Hancock.

"Good bye Sergio, goodbye Zoro.", Law called after them, hooking his thumbs in his belt

"Remember your cards Roronoa.", Hawkins said, though Zoro had no intention of doing so. Instead he just waved again distractedly.

Ace was waiting for him, and he had wasted enough time in getting here.

He could feel the first raindrops of the coming rain. First came the rain, then came the storm and the destruction-

_The Tower of Destruction_, _do not forget your spread Roronoa, those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it-_

-then came the aftermath in which they would be able to rest their weary feet. It was going to be a long road and a hard fight, but when it came they would stand and fight. They would make their stand.

They would make their stand.

~0~

Author's Commentary and Notes: Thank you for reading and Reviewing! Have you guys been reading the Revised Chapters? xD Hey, guys and girls, today is Betting's Anniversary and I just want to say that this year was one which I grew up a lot, loved a lot, cried a lot, etc. But, goddamn it, _I fucking love life._ I hope you guys, if you are going through shit and even if you're not, remember to seize the day_._ I love you guys. This chapter is dedicated to all my **Readers**. I hug you all. Carpe diem. ;D

{1] Hamlet, in Shakespeare's _The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark_, sees his father's ghost who informs him that he died, 'a most unnatural death' and asks Hamlet to avenge his murder because Hamlet's uncle-his father's brother and murderer-married his mother.

[2] Other Stuff: Zoro and Sanji are listening to Sierra Leone in the car. The Arc of Descent comes from SK's short story, "Dolans Cadillac"


	19. Motion Movement

_**Chapter 19**_

Motion Movement

When I look back, that's when I see everything was wrong  
And you looked sad, that's when I said I'd write you a song  
Everybody's got their reasons  
Everybody's got their ghosts to fear  
When I look back all I see is I've done something wrong, wrong  
Oh, my dear, my tis of thee  
What a tangled web we weave  
Everyone is the one until the one falls down  
Then we're all just, please, please, please  
The painted rust will only fool the fools for just so long

Eventually, that's when we'll see that everything was wrong  
So here's to the boys who fight all the wars you will never fight for yourself  
And you can ignore whoever you want to, but in the end  
Oh, the shame, humility, what a wicked gang are we  
Like a liar looking down on a thief looking down on a killer looking down on a creep, oh  
This sinking ship will only hold its course for just so long  
-_"What a Wicked Gang are We, Streetlight Manifesto" _

~0~

Luffy was handsome. Luffy was just plain sexy. Luffy was a man among men. Luffy was generous and kind. Luffy was the next best thing since the latex condom and the Teflon coated frying pan. Luffy was the most bomb ass motherfucker to ever bust a goddamn _nut_. Not only was he greater that the combined strength of peanut butter and morning-after pills, but he was close to being the Second Coming.

She went on and on in worship. Perhaps not as raunchy and explicit as that, but still Sanji didn't know how much more he could take. Sure, Luffy was a pretty chill guy for a dude, but he couldn't understand how such an amazingly sexy woman could have fallen for the _Strawhat _of all people. The kid hardly came up to her nipple. It was hard to hear such an _utterly_ sexually desirable woman praising a man that wasn't him, selfish, pining soul that he was.

Zoro really didn't seem to be paying attention to anything Hancock was saying, his face was dark and silently preoccupied with himself, and he walked beside Hancock without even taking a second glance at her thrusting cleavage, gorgeously muscled belly, and luscious legs. He wasn't even checking to see if he could catch a glimpse of her sex through the slit of her dress as she shifted sensuous hips or if her blouse thing was shifting enough so that he could see a dazzling crescent of a milk-chocolate nipple—

If he didn't know any better, Sanji would have suspected that Zoro was gay.

"—and he eats amazingly well for a man his age—" Hancock chirped, fanning herself with one slender, elegant hand. "Quite an appetite! It's refreshing to meet a man with such _gusto_. A veritable champion."

"My dear, have I told you that I am a cook?" he asked, leaning close, eyeballs trained on the slight, strikingly beautiful lift of her collarbone. It was the perfect ridge to run an adventuring tongue on. "And as such, believe me you when I say that I, too, have quite the insatiate appetite, though my appetite is one not remedied by mere _food, _it would take a beautiful woman such as yourself—"

Zoro cut him off, seeming to not have even been paying attention to the conversation, his eyes always trained on the end of the long hallway, "Hancock. Do you know anything about this?"

"Hmmm—about what, fool? How dare you interrupt me when I am speaking of Luffy!" Hancock's eyes narrowed. The sparkling blue eyes turning to an angry cobalt. Sanji tried not to swoon at the magnificent expression of anger on her stately forehead. It was fucking _hot_. Her hotness had just skyrocketed a couple thousand notches. Anymore, and he was going to have a delivery soon. From Mr. Ballsack. Fresh load of semen, straight from the fucking farm. _Organic._

Okay, Hancock's utter beauty was driving him insane. His mind was woozy from contemplating her gorgeousness. Had Zoro said he had _dated_ this goddess? Well, lo and behold, there was the key to the whole gay thing. After such a _woman_, Zoro had been simply unable to fill the spot with another female.

Meanwhile, Zoro frowned, "Hey, about_ Ace_. Luffy told me to ask you. He said that he trusted you to tell me everything."

_Ace! That's right! _

It brought Sanji back to reality. It was like a sudden thump back into his bodily self. That name. _Ace._ Surreal to think that they were still in some heavy shit. Hell, sex with the boyfriend, joking in a limousine, dressing up for undercover work, getting hit on by an apparently notorious mobster; these were things that just didn't happen in real life. He should climb down from the fucking cloud he was on.

He needed to remember that.

That this was no fairy tale world. Maybe it had been for the few months in which he had met Zoro. Hell, it _had _been. But then, the moment he had realized that he had fallen in love with a _guy_, the world had never been the same. But, traipsing in la-la land while heavy shit was going down was a good way to end up nutless. Or dead.

He took another glance at Zoro. The gravity in the slight lines of the forehead, the brooding emotion in his eyes, all but reinforced the fact that the time for play had passed, perhaps forever, and the time for work had come.

He dry-swallowed and pawed at his breast pocket for a cigarette. Again wondering just how far gone was he in this shit. Just how enmeshed was Zoro in it; and by relation, how enmeshed was he? Because there just was no fucking way that he was going to cower in his beautiful ten-room mansion up in Enies Lobby while Zoro was risking his life to do what he thought was right. Like it or not, Zoro was stuck with him.

Hancock seemed to melt at the name of Luffy, her black eyelashes fluttered and she pressed a hand to a flushed forehead, "Oh_ my. _I feel lightheaded at the mere mention of his name—what's that?"

"I said, 'do you know anything about what happened to Ace,'" Zoro repeated, mouth turning down at the corner in sardonic amusement.

"About Luffy's brother? Why don't you ask him yourself?" And as they reached the end of the hallway, she swept open a door and called out, "Ace! Visitors for you!"

The Arena was a private fighting arena that few knew about and even fewer participated it. Usually it hosted mud-wrestling or cage fighting, but sometimes there were real prize-fights. Sanji, of course, knew nothing about this. And neither did Zoro, though the latter had been born in such an environment and had lived his life under such circumstances that Sanji could tell the arena was seven worlds away from the local Y.M.C.A from the wary look in the other's eyes as he glanced quickly through the massive coliseum-style room.

A few more feet and they were at the edge of the highest seats, and looking down, mouth slightly agape at the opulence and audacity of the room itself, at the bottom of the tiered seats, there was a circular shaped arena in which he assumed the fights were held.

The arena was empty except for a small figure which looked up at them, his face a white patch in the semi-darkness. But he recognized him immediately, recognized the wavy black hair and the eyes which seemed both old and young, even from afar.

"Zoro? That you?" Ace D. Portgas called out, grin flashing out in the dark like a knife. "Is that your ugly mug I see?"

Beside him, Zoro let out a gusty sigh. "Yeah, Ace. It's me. It's really me." And then he was vaulting down the stairs, not even bothering to touch the banister."

Slightly nervous and feeling more than trepidation, Sanji followed.

~0~

When he saw Ace, a flurry of emotions ripped through him briefly. Enough so that he shuddered and his flesh broke out in tiny goosebumps. This was too good to be true; too quick and easy to be realistic. He should have dragged himself through the seven circles of hell to reach Ace; should have spilled tears, ripped flesh, drenched the very floor in the copper sulfur of his blood.

But here he was, vaulting down steep carpeted steps, hand just barely ghosting over the separated rail in the middle, grin plastered across his face, eyes riveted on a freckled face in which two sparkling, black onyx eyes glittered even in the darkness.

Ace caught him on the leap to the last step and Zoro wrapped his arms tightly around the familiar body and both men fairly crushed each other as they staggered across the floor of the arena.

"Stupidass firebug," Zoro grunted, finally shoving Ace away, but keeping a firm, almost painful grip on the freckled man's bare shoulders and his eyes fixed on the other's, "You even know how many years you scared off my damn life when I saw your picture in the paper? Do you even know?"

"Get me a pen and I'll autograph it for you. Special Edition," Ace smirked back, the smile which always seemed to lurk in the small lines at the corners of his eyes or around his lips, shone out. There was nothing in that moment, in Ace D. Portgas's face which gave evidence to the fact that he was only eighteen and wanted for multiple homicide.

"Stop joking around man," he said quietly, "Just tell me who the fuck it was and how they got you in here and where they are. It's all I need to know. Give me a name." Yes, that was all he needed. He had been able to handle it when he saw the newspaper. He had been able to handle it when he saw the charred and black tenements. He had stood erect through it all.

And it had all been to reach this end.

Predestination had never been so potent. So tangible in the air that he could feel and see the tracks on which his life was leading him. There had never been any question as to what would happen when he found Ace. The issue had been finding Ace to begin with, but now the way was clear. Painfully so.

No one fucked with his friends.

As a guy who had grown up _sans_ the parental love which always seemed so much more common in the nicer neighborhoods and in the cleaner streets and in the families with the four point five GPA students; he had invested the totality of his soul in the friendships he had formed. Zoro would have given his life to protect anyone of them. Because they were all each other had. He has placed so much of himself in each of his friends that to have let one fall would have been suicide.

And therein lay the Achilles' ankle of the fierce wolfpack. Their loyalty would be their yoke; their friendship, their bane.

In that millisecond or less in which a fistula of time did or did not elapse between Zoro's question and Ace's answer; Zoro realized something both great and terrible. That both he and Ace had been lying to each other when they had held their palaver in the dreary, grey confines of a sterile, septic hospital room. Yes, Cipher Pol Number 9 would take all the hellish paths in order to play them against each other. Yes, the agents would hurt, and perhaps, kill, their friends. Yes, it would be better if they turned their faces away and forgot to play the hero and refused to play along with the fuckery of those less-than-human bastards.

But they were human damn it. They were born of the streets, raised in fields where _cannabis sativa_ was the vegetation which dominated both land and people, they were the lost and forgotten, the damned and the abandoned. The Overlooked. The Many. They were the last drip on the tip of a sore and leaky dick. Yes, they were Water 7 and they were fucking proud.

No one fucked with his friends. Not other gangs, not Captain Smoker, not Blackbeard, not Cipher Pol Number 9, not Roberto Fucking Lucchi, not God.

Yes, he still held to his resolution that he would never bend the supplicant's knee to CP9. And that because to do so would have been the death of his pride and self-dignity; but if CP9 ever messed with the one part in his life which was truly sacred, that of his friends, then there would be no looking away. Not in this world.

Zoro knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth and his ears had heard his own voice. Or perhaps he had always known it, but only finally acknowledged his helplessness in the situation until that moment.

Ace eyes held only understanding and an empathy too deep for it to be successfully described. The nearly indiscernible nod which passed between them was all it took for the sudden reversal in decisions to be noted, accepted, agreed upon, and filed away.

The blackhaired man shrugged, "Zoro, you probably have more of an idea than me. Hell, you probably know more of the details of what I supposedly did than I do. I was at a friend's. Get up at eleven, twelve at night, my phone screaming Rehab's _Graffiti the World_. Blackbeard's yelling at me to get my ass out on the curb, fucking _now._ I get out in two seconds flat, thinking there's a hit on my head and that the shit's gonna go down pretty bad—"

Ace raised a shoulder lopsidedly and looked away briefly, a deep set wrinkle on his clear forehead the only sign that he was being disturbed by what he was saying, "—there's a car outside, and I dive into it without even thinking. I was so messed and freaked, I wasn't sure what was up or down or even if I was dreaming or not. Anyway, it was Thatch, you know Thatch. He took me here and said that Blackbeard would explain everything—by then the boss had hung up on me."

"Wait, Blackbeard warned you?" Zoro interrupted. surprised.

"Yeah, man," Ace shrugged, "He met me here ten minutes after I got here. Somehow he managed to convince Hancock to let me in even though they're not really on friendly terms. And that's when he told me that they were looking for me, that his gopher in the police had already associated my lighter to me—you know the one with the Ace of Spades, my lucky Bic?—and that they were trying to keep it hush-hush, but that I was already marked."

"Wait," Zoro ran a distracted hand through his hair, "I was getting the vibe that _Blackbeard_ started this shit rolling—I know we're gang, but—I don't know, _Blackbeard's_ the one who saved your ass?" He shook his head slightly, in a futile attempt to clear it. Things had started to bend and stretch in unnatural ways. He had trusted Luffy's instinct and his own, but now the mute, irrefutable truth stood before him. "Ace—you _sure?_"

"Look—Zoro, I know we don't trust him, neither you nor me—" Ace broke off abruptly, eyes slightly widening and shifting over his shoulder.

_Shit. Forgot. _

He was about to turn and try to fumble some kind of awkward introduction in which all three of them would feel halfway like asses, but before he could, Ace shot out his hand and grabbed his arm right above the elbow and mouthed, "_Does he know…about the…?" _ His lips barely moved.

Zoro shook his head before he even remembered that he _had _told Sanji the night before, when the world still had been sane. A bit sick, yes, a little feverish, a tad delirious; but still sane. It seemed like it had been in another era. But before he could correct himself, he decided not to. It would be better like that. Better not to talk about _that_ again. At least it would save Ace some face. That shit was finished.

Sanji glanced at him and then back at Ace, "Ms. Boa said she was going to leave us here and that we were free to go when we want."

Zoro nodded, and feeling awkward and oddly guilty, "Sanji…this is Ace. Ace, Sanji." He made some weak, vague gesture with his hands between the two that was supposed to justify their introduction under the decidedly strange circumstances.

Almost three months ago, these two men had met for the first time. One had been behind the wheel of a car and the other had been perched above the purring engine. Now they met again. The click of the circuit as it rolled to another close was loud in the stillness.

~0~

They measured each other. Both unwilling to appear inferior or give the sensation of weakness. Sanji felt his heartbeat slow in his ears as he held Ace D. Porrtgas's gaze and challenged it mutely. He did not have any feelings of malevolence or brooding anger towards the other man, far from it. There was only a slight wariness and a warm feeling of pity and sympathy. The other man was Zoro's close friend and a friend in deep trouble.

To hold a grudge against such a person was inhumane and quite irritatingly juvenile. But still, he stood firm in his look. There was no kowtowing in his gaze, no form of servile deference, no sickly sweet condescending pity which poured salt in burning wounds, no cold contempt or anger or fear or hate or love. He just stood as himself, candidly and with pride.

_Whatever happened before is in the past. Forget it and let's move on. _

Ace must have seen something of this in his eyes or in the lines of his face, because the tension in the air relaxed as the other man's face softened. And Sanji understood that there had been a sort of small test and he had passed and been approved of.

He let his lips relax into something just away from a smile and he could feel Zoro next to him, doing everything except obviously wringing his hands and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

_It's like I'm his bride and I just met his formidable mother-in-law. _

He broke the silence, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands up in a_ what_ _can we do? gesture, _"I know we met under pretty heated circumstances before, Portgas. And I'm not asking anything now—nor will I ever—just know that I'm in this." He paused, thinking, not really caring if he was saying too much or too little, "Even if I shouldn't be. Even if I don't belong here. I'm _in_ this."

Slight pause.

"If we're going to go through this shit together," Ace said slowly, "then you're going to have to call me Ace." The man was grinning wickedly by the end of it. "Because believe me when I say, _Sanji Blackleg_, that neither me, you, or our dear Zoro is going to get out of this without smelling the blackest shit of Water 7 on our skin for the next couple months. You still game?"

"I don't pretend to know what goes on over here," he answered tightly, "but I'm prepared for it. I haven't lived my whole life with my head stuck in my asshole you know." His hands were already rifling through his pockets, looking for the nicotine rush which would fill his lungs and accompany that rushing flood of his bloodstream, brimming with adrenaline.

It was surreal; he felt like he was at the brim of a precipice, looking into the eye of the abyss. He was blindfolded, at the threshold of a door which would open into his initiation of the secret Freemason brotherhood.

Ace shrugged lazily, "You're going to deal with people who wouldn't think twice of shooting you point-blank in the head and taking your wallet or cutting your finger off if your twenty-four carat gold class ring won't come off easy. You'll be rubbing shoulders with—"

"Okay, Ace, that's enough—don't scare the shit out of him—" Zoro interrupted, eyes narrowing, his hand reached out momentarily, before withdrawing to his side. As if he had thought of drawing him near for protection and then remembered himself.

"Stay out of this," both he and Ace immediately said without turning.

"_Shit._ Fine!" Zoro muttered, throwing up his hands and turning around.

Sanji ignored him. Ace was right. He needed to hear this. Needed to know how bad it could be. Needed to psyche himself up. Needed to drive the last vestiges of fairy-tale endings from his head.

Ace didn't even skip a beat, his eyes still trained on his blue ones. "Are you getting this _Sanji_? Are you hearing this? You're talking to a man whose face was on the paper because he killed thirteen people in an attack of arson. You fine with that?"

"You didn't do it, so why shouldn't I be?" he retorted, flicking a piece of lint from off his jacket sleeve.

"Yeah, you're right. I didn't. But I've burned things down before and maybe I've hurt people bad too. You still think it's all right to help me out? You okay with helping out people who are like that? Zoro here has put some pretty bad hurt on people. And me, worse. You okay with that?" Ace asked, cocking his head and pointing a finger at his chest accusingly.

"Jesus Christ Ace! You're making us sound like crimi—" Zoro broke in again, turning around and glaring at his friend. Sanji nearly groaned, why didn't Zoro just tell Ace that they were more than friends? _Shit. _

"Fuck off man, I'm just telling your friend the truth. We're not angels as you damn well know. We're not angels or struggling, poor, honest people. We sin too. We fuck up too," Ace cut him off, but without anger, only a tired smoothness which was brutal in its unornamented honesty. "If you consider him your friend you shouldn't even have gotten him into this. I'm just taking his virginity before Water 7 rapes him." The freckled man shrugged.

"Do you have to fucking put it like—" Zoro began, fuming.

But Sanji shushed him again, "Hey, Zoro. I need to hear this. I get him. I get it. So do us a favor and go sit over there, will ya?" He motioned him off and turned back to Ace, intent. He understood why Zoro was balking in giving him the more morbid details, but this was a necessity.

"Screw you cook, I'm not going anywhere."

"Then shut up."

"All right, all right, _Christ." _Zoro ran his hands threw his hair and blew out air from his cheeks.

_Damn, we're all strung up to the highest degree, on tenterhooks. _

It was true. Tension wasn't in the air; the air _was_ tension, electrifying, potent and throbbing. If someone dropped something heavy the next room over, Sanji knew that all three of them would jump and let out a choir of yelps and half-screams. Their freaking pupils were probably dilated to the max and their sensory neurons snapping and frying as the electrical impulses reached overdrive.

He let out a breath of pent-up steam, trying to rid himself of some nerves, and turned back to Ace, "I know you're not angels, no one is. Don't feed me that crap. I'm here because Zoro's here and because he's my friend. Nothing more. If you have something better to say to scare me off, I suggest you say it—" he smiled, and always the elegant avant-garde idiot that he was, "Or forever hold your peace."

Ace smirked again and there was more than a little admiration in his eyes, "Well look at you Sanji Blackleg...I can see why the greenhaired one fell for you. Got a little fight in you, don't you? A little rebellion? I like that." He grinned, "I like _you._"

"Isn't that lovely Ace," Zoro muttered, "Why don't you guys just marry each other? I mean, don't mind me."

"All right then," the freckled man rubbed his hands almost gleefully, "It's time to plan this shit. They hit us pretty damn hard. But they're sadly mistaken if they think it's over. They need to learn something. You know what? That if they plan to hit us, then they should make sure we're quite dead because we're just going to get back up and rip their fucking throats out."

Sanji nodded and puffed on the cigarette between his cold fingers.

Ace turned to him suddenly, "Oh, I almost forgot…welcome to Water 7 man. You're in this now. God help you."

~0~

The words came hard and fast like bullets.

Ace dropped to his knees and motioned for them to hunker, "All right guys. I've been falsely accused of multiple homicide. As they say in the crime shows—who done it?"

"I thought either Blackbeard, other gangs, or CP9," Zoro ticked off the choices on his fingers. "But being blunt, guy like you—there's a bunch of other guys who'd be glad to fuck you over Ace. But those three are the most likely."

"Blackbeard?" Ace repeated, a wrinkle between his eyes, "I'm not sure man. I _would_ believe it if he hadn't warned me. I wouldn't be here now if he hadn't managed to spirit me away into here. Why would he bother doing something like that, then saving me? It doesn't make any kind of sense."

"I know," Zoro muttered, frowning, "It's throwing me off. So that leaves—other gangs and CP9. Gangs? I don't think so. Arlong? He wouldn't dare. Krieg's a joke. Foxy? That guy is a coward. Nothing. There isn't any reason to it even if they _could_ pull off something like that."

Sanji hunkered quietly, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet, head down and cigarette peeping out from under his hair. He was having no trouble following the conversation and the names—Zoro had told him enough—but he had nothing to contribute as of yet. If he saw something worth mentioning, or an idea worth throwing out, then he would speak up. Now, it was better to not interrupt. Though he probably knew a lot by now; Ace and Zoro had been born in Water 7 and knew it far better.

"CP9 then," Ace finished, "The most obvious choice."

Zoro cut in, "You know what your brother told me? He said he didn't think they did it. That's what he thought."

"I know—" Ace nodded, "He told me. I got to see him for a second when Blackbeard left. I texted him that I was at Amazon, but then Blackbeard took my phone, he didn't want there to be a possibility for it to be tracked somehow. Whatever. I trust Luffy like hell, but I'm not sure. He could be wrong, I mean, it's just instinct."

"All right," Zoro said, "Say CP9 did this. They succeeded man. You're going to have to stay here or smuggled yourself out of the city somehow until you get your name cleared. Which doesn't look like it's going to happen."

"Not for a while at least," the blackhaired man said quietly, "Well, all they got is circumstantial evidence. They _saw_ me and found my lighter and I have a record and a gang and a rap sheet almost as big as my dick. But still, they'll need a lot more than that to convict me."

"Unless they pull some more dirty strings," Zoro said, "They've already done it. They could concoct some more _evidence_. I bet you fucking anything that your shirt is going to show up somewhere in the bushes behind Galley-La, soaked in gasoline or something. And that they're going to haul in some John Doe saying that he heard you talking about your plans. Hell, they'll find your stuffed Pooh Bear at the scene and your diary filled with your arson attacks if that's what it takes."

"Yeah, I'm pretty much screwed," Ace murmured thoughtfully, "If I show up saying I'm innocent—they book me and convict me. I don't fucking doubt it—not with CP9 running the show. If I continue to hide out—then I'm guilty by default."

Zoro nodded, "And they're pretty much everyone's set against you." He quickly took the time to tell Ace about his trip to the burned crime scene of Galley-La, his confrontation with Lucchi, his talk with Luffy, and his arrival here.

By the time he had finished, Ace was biting his lip fiercely, "Man, I'd think I'd get some more support from everyone. Seems like only a couple people got my back when shit goes down."

"But I'm not sure about that," Zoro interjected, "I think a whole bunch just kind of got blinded by the deaths. Galley-La was Water 7 and you know how much hate goes to someone who turns on ourselves. But maybe if we spread the word—we can get more to see reason."

"You do that then," Ace said, "Just be careful yourself. Lucchi already got his creepy eye on you man. I mean, Luffy _can_ protect you in someways, his grand-daddy is a pretty big fish. But—" Ace turned pleading, agonized eyes on Zoro, "Please Zoro, don't bring him in this. I already tangled his ass in this enough as is. This isn't his problem. Luffy's kept his nose clean—he doesn't deserve for this to happen to him."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on hiding behind him every time Lucchi's face shows up," Zoro nodded, and cracked his knuckles significantly, "Anyway. What it all boils down to is what you're thinking. What are you planning? You gonna stay here or see what you can outside?"

There was a moment of silence as Ace thought, looking down between his legs and staring in concentration at the ground. He chewed methodically at his lower lip, "I hate staying here and not knowing, not doing anything to help—but I'm not stupid, I know the risks I take if I even show my face."

"I think you should stay here, at least until I get enough support to your side," Zoro advised, "Then you can get out of here and join up with us. There's not much we can do anyway." He sighed, "It boils down to this. We have to wait until something comes up that clears your name…and see what we can do about CP9," he finished, a small, mirthless smile playing about his lips. "Let me tell you—the bastards, especially the one with the beard, are going to wish that they'd never have come here."

"All right. I'll stay here—only because I don't want anybody to get incriminated because of me," Ace said tightly, "Though, anything else, I would be out there like the rest of you."

"Yeah, of course you would."

"—and _just_ for now. If something shows, or if something _doesn't_ show; I'm _outta_ here. There's only so far I can hide and cop out of this." Ace ran his hands through his long hair, black as a raven's wing. "You said everyone's okay, so I don't feel so bad staying in here. Anyway, I need to let things calm down—maybe it'll get better in a few days, who knows."

"Unlikely," Zoro grunted, getting up. Ace and Sanji followed. "Shit, times like these I _hate_ that Mihawk snapped my swords. I need some protection and if they catch me with a gun then I'm going to get locked away tighter than a frozen tit. And in a moment like this there's no way in hell that I'd let that happen."

Ace nodded, "Then get your ass out of here Roronoa. Go see what you can do, just don't get yourself killed all right? I'm not worth it." He grimaced slightly.

Zoro pointed at him accusingly, "Shut up. Me, Sanji here, and dozens others—after I beat some sense into then—are all going to bust our asses getting you cleared so don't you fucking tell me that you're not worth it Portgas. Don't you fucking _dare, _man_."_

"All right, all right," Ace held up his hands in defeat, but tried to hide the smile on his face. "Thanks man." He glanced at Sanji, "You too, you know. Though I _still_ think you're crazy to jump _willingly_ into this shit."

He shrugged, "I manage."

"Hey Ace, you can't see if you can get a phone somewhere from Hancock? Blackbeard took yours you said and we're going to have to keep in constant contact. I can't afford to keep coming back here if someone decides to track me."

"Well the thing is that I'm willing to bet that all the phones here are tapped already for Hancock. There's no public ones if that's what you're asking."

"Shit, how the hell am I supposed to get messages or information to you then?" Zoro muttered in exasperation.

"Why you looking at me dude? Send me smoke signals or something. Messenger pigeon. Fucked if I know."

Sanji dug his hand into his pocket and after a moment's thought, pulled out his Iphone in black and white checkered skin and tossed it to Ace who caught and fumbled it in surprise. "Use mine. Zoro has my number and so you two can communicate better. Take it." He would only face some minor inconveniences with the loss of his phone; it had better uses. Anyway, all he had to do was tell Zeff that he had lost it and the old man he considered his blood father would kick him across the slats, call him all sorts of colorful names, maybe shake him until he saw triple of everything, and buy him a new one after the allotted time of punishment.

"But man—this is an _Iphone_, this is yours—" Ace began, holding it back out and shaking his head, "I can't accept this—"

"Just take it," he put his hands up and refused to take it, "Look, don't feed me shit. I know you don't want to take it, but I know you need it. It'll make things easier for all of us. _Take it._"

Ace hesitated and Zoro broke in, "Take it before I shove it up your ass Ace. You know you need it and it'll help me relay stuff to you, okay?"

"Fine—" Ace put up a finger and looked at him, "But I'm going to remember this. I'll repay the favor sevenfold all right? Even if I have to mooch off Luffy."

" Sure," he grinned, "Just think of it as a loan. I expect it back."

The freckled man was already scrolling through the phone, using the ball of his thumb to navigate the screen, "This is the first time I even touch a phone where you smear your oily fingers across it—Hey, this has games on it! I'll play Pacman while you guys are risking your lives trying to save me. Is that chill with you fools?"

Zoro laughed, "Yeah do what you have to do Ace. I'll call you if anything shows up. Right now I want to see about Robin. She still hasn't answered any of my calls or texts—I'm getting pretty worried. I've seen you, so I know you're good, but Robin…"

Ace flapped his hands at him, "Go dude. Don't even think about it. Go make sure she's okay and tell me. I've already kept you enough as is. Go on, shoo."

The greenhaired man punched him lightly on the shoulder, "Be calm Ace. I know that sounds like a shit thing to say, but _we can get through this. _We just need to keep our heads high." His mouth quirked slightly, "Endure. We can take this."

"I know. We can. Now hurry up and leave. I feel like things are happening all the time while we stand here chinning. Anything happen, I'll be here with this in my hand," Ace hefted the Iphone up and nodded to him, "This is a Godsend Sanji. We owe you one."

"Yeah, it's fine," he answered and gave him a last wave before he turned and followed Zoro, who was already taking the steps two—three steps at a time and already calling someone on his cell.

~0~

They ended up calling a taxi from Hancock's office—though they had to listen to a barrage of condescending insults before Zoro invoked the name of the Allmighty Luffy, Hallowed be His Name and Hancock melted and graciously allowed Zoro to dial the operator and order a taxi.

And that is how Sanji found himself outside in the pouring rain—for it seemed that the world had just been waiting for their disappearance to set forth a sudden, brisk shower—with the collar of his shirt turned up, his yellow hair sticking to the nape of his neck, and his body shivering with the combined forces of the night and the rain while he waited for the yellow vehicle commonly known as the taxi.

"This is all your fault idiotcook," Zoro muttered from beside him, "We could have just taken your car here but no, you had to go all fancy with the limousine." The greenhaired man had his jacket up over his head, pretending to shield his face from the rain when Sanji understood without being told that Zoro was just taking his precaution to the level of perfection.

Sanji ignored him, "Hey, Zoro—you want to check out your friend by yourself or do you want me to come with? I don't mind if you don't or if you do but I don't want to tag along if you can handle it better solo."

"Good idea. I think you should ride this one out lovecook; I don't mind you coming with—but Robin lives in a apartment complex in which at least a dozen people would recognize you if they see you. I don't need you dragged into this even more than you already _are —_contrary to what the firebug in there said." Zoro jerked his thumb back at the strip club and gruffly said, "I won't say forget what he said, but know that I'm going to try my fucking best to keep you safe from anything, okay?"

He smiled, "I feel…gooey inside now."

"Shut up Sanji. I fucking mean it. I couldn't say it because Ace was there—but if someone even so much as looks at you the wrong way then I'm going to have to dispatch them to the Here Beyond. Shit—just _thinking_ about the stuff that can happen is going to drive me insane." Zoro glanced at him, his face hooded from the shadows of the jacket. The neon signs flashed out, throwing dramatic shadows across his features.

"I'll be fine," he grunted, "Let's not talk about it. You know I can take care of myself. And if you think what you said just goes for me, then you're sadly mistaken. You know why I forced myself into this crazy shit? I forced myself into this crazy shit because I don't want _you_ to get hurt. At least not without me trying to protect you in some way. You got that?"

Vows exchanged in some unknown night on some unknown and insidious street. The sacredness and gravity with which they were delivered; the fierceness and devotion which they manifested; was enough to make them words worthy of an alter.

There was no mention of love. There would be no mention of love while they stood outside in the rain and the skies pelted them with small drops of moisture and chilled them and while they stood so exposed. It was enough to know that the other was there.

But Zoro got it. The greenhaired man nodded and said, "Tit for tat."

"Finally, there's the taxi," Sanji said, pointing to the approaching cab, "Tell you what; drop me off first and then take it wherever you're going, yeah?" He stepped off the curb, motioning the driver.

"That works, but if I need to talk to you?"

"You have my house number and I'll use someone's cell to text you if anything happens. But I don't think you'll need to tell me something desperately. I might be in this story but I don't have a big part—yet." He opened the car door and slid inside the warm interior.

"All right."

~0~

Thirty minutes later he was knocking on Luffy's door. Or—to be more specific—on the door that would open onto Luffy's penthouse apartment floor. He would have called—but then realized that his phone was now temporary property of Ace D. Portgas. Whatever, it was cool.

The speaker buzzed, "_Yeah, Sanji. I'll be there in a second, wait up."_

He waited quietly until he heard the footsteps and the tumble of the bolts as Luffy unlocked them. "Hey Luffy, been up to a hell of a lot of badassery I hear?" He grinned at the Strawhat who opened the door. Luffy still looked drawn and a little haggard, but he still looked capable of ripping someone a new asshole. It cheered Sanji.

Luffy matched his grin and motioned him in the penthouse, "You saw Ace didn't you! How is he? What'd he say? How'd you get there? Zoro?"

"Yeah, Zoro took me along—I guess you know we're friends by now—"

"Yeah, yeah that's old news! Come on, tell me-"

Sanji quickly explained, outlining the appearance of Zoro and their trip to Amazon Lily—pausing at the right moment to hit Luffy upside the head for playing around with Hancock—and what Ace and Zoro had discussed. Luffy was quiet, with only the occasional exclamation and question, and by the time Sanji had finished, the strawhat's eyes were gleaming in triumph.

The blackhaired man rubbed his hands together, "All _right_. It seems like Ace and Zoro are going to rock this. He's tough that Ace. Even when we were kids. I know he'll get through this. Our problem is getting everyone to side with Ace and to find out who set him up and see if we can take them out before they screw things over more."

"Yeah. Is why I'm here," Sanji agreed, "Gin around? I got to talk to him, urgent."

"Gin? Yeah, he's in the living room playing X-box," Luffy motioned Sanji to follow him, "He's a good guy. I'm glad you helped him out. We're pretty good friends now, though he still wants to follow Krieg around. So what are your ideas about this?"

"I guess I can't really make any _solid_ decisions right now, not until I find out more. From what I've picked up—I think it's CP9, though _you_ don't think it is. There's no one else from what _I _see."

"Well, it's what I felt when I saw Lucchi and them," Luffy said, scratching his neck, "I don't think they're the type to take the first move. I think they're definitely involved in this, but they didn't make the first move, you know? I'm still looking for the roots of the problem—which I'm not sure about yet, But then again, I could be wrong, I don't want anyone messing up because I guessed wrong."

The strawhat paused outside the arched entrance of a large, lighted recreation room, "But I wouldn't mind taking out this guy if he's causing too much trouble. I wouldn't mind _at all_. You guys want me to, I'll do it, no sweat. I would do it right now, but I don't want to make this more violent than it already is, especially if Lucchi really didn't start this."

"It's why I'm thinking its best to wait and get prepared," Sanji agreed, nodding, "But I think there is going to be violence—a lot of violence—whether we try to stop it or not, Luffy." He took out a cigarette and lit up for what seemed the hundredth time that day, "I think that not only are we going to have to get ready for it, but we're going to have to get ready to dish some out."

He glanced at Luffy and seeing neither disapproval or disagreement in the face of his friend, continued, "Your brother said something to me that struck a nerve. He said, '_you're okay with helping out people like us? People who have done bad shit?'_ Something like that. Well, to tell the truth, I never even thought about that, you know?"

Luffy nodded.

"And true enough; Zoro and Ace and all them are what society decided shouldn't ever be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens. And yeah, they've probably done things that maybe someday they'll have to answer for. And yeah, I'm probably getting mixed into it enough so there's no fucking chance I'll come out clean—"

He breathed out a beautiful plume of grey smoke, "But to hell with that. Zoro's my friend and I'm not letting him get into this without offering my help. There's things you got to do."

"Well said," Luffy grinned, "I'm liking you more and more Sanji. I knew from the moment I saw you that you'd be a great cook and a cool guy." He turned and walking into the living room, shouted, "Hey Gin! Sanji's here and wants to talk with you!"

"You sound an awful lot like your bro, Luffy," Sanji remarked and following Luffy walked into the large, comfortable, haphazardly decorated room. Gin was scrambling up from where he was sitting in front of a large plasma TV, a wide grin on his swarthy face.

"Fucking Sanji! Man, it's _great_ to see you—how've you been?" Gin hurried to them, and Sanji noted that he still limped and favored his right side heavily. Of course he would. How long had it been since Gin had walked into his life? A day? A day and a half? Crazy shit. It seemed eons ago.

Sanji grasped his hand and pumped it, "Gin—glad you liked the accommodations. I knew you would. Everyone likes Luffy."

"Man I thought you were crazy when you sent me to this dude," and the other man collared Luffy, thick lips curved in a conspiratorial smile, "but no, this is great. This kid—" Gin gripped Luffy's shoulder affectionately, "—this morning he beat the shit out of three of my gang when they tried to fuck me over, easy. I know I shouldn't be happy about that, but still, it was _badass_. He said he'd give me lesions in streetfighting."

Sanji nodded and smiled as Luffy beamed, "Yeah Gin. I came because I needed to ask you something, a favor."

"Go man," Gin immediately said, visibly calming down and turning serious, "I said anything, and I'll do anything. Shoot."

"That night, you said that there was a time that you could get me drugs and any type of weapons I wanted, that true?"

Gin nodded, "Yeah. We like to pride ourselves in the amount of unregistered firearms we traffic and the sheer diversity of the weapons we import."

This was the crux of the matter, "But do you think you can get still get something even being out of the gang?"

"It'd be…hard…and I'd probably end up stealing it instead," Gin pondered for a second, "But I'm pretty sure I can get you something, depends on what you want. A couple semi-automatics, a Magnum .357, a Colt, couple silencers, a sawed-off I can probably get, relatively easy. But if you want whole _damn crates_ of unmarked, clean pistols—I don't think I'll be _able —"_

"Nah," Sanji interrupted, waving his cigarette disdainfully, "I don't need that kind of shit. I want swords. Japanese swords—two of them. Can you get me that?"

"Japanese swords? What do you—_ohhh,"_ Gin scratched at his head, "For Roronoa, am I right? I heard he snapped his when he fought Mihawk. Those dudes are crazy, I have no idea how they handle those things; they're _huge_." His eyes darkened momentarily and he looked at Sanji questioningly, silently reminding him of the warning he had issued days before.

Sanji ignored it, "Yeah. Zoro probably wants swords so he can kick some ass; and he's going to need to kick some serious ass sooner or later. So can you get me two _katana_?"

"Yeah, sure, _I_ don't even have to get you them. Tell you what, I'll have them at your house by tomorrow or later today if you _really_ want them." Gin nodded.

"What? That fast? What are you going to do—pull them out of your ass?"

Gin-and Luffy, who was still listening intently—laughed," Nah. It's just that I don't have to talk to any of my old gang for that. Swords are legal, though they're illegal to _carry_ around, so you could probably order some from Japan yourself. Problem being that it'd take a week to arrive, yeah? But no, I know this guy who handles stuff like that—mostly for collecting purposes though. He sells all sorts of old, exotic weapons. And he's Japanese himself so he has a _lot_ of _katana. _We're on good terms so I can the stuff easy. Except—" The dark-haired man paused slightly in embarrassment.

"What?"

"—those things don't come cheap…" Gin said, rubbing the back of his head. "I'd buy them myself but I don't—"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Sanji said, rolling his eyes and pulling out his wallet, "Here take that. Does he accept Visa?" He flicked the shiny credit card at the other man. "Pin is two-two-one-three."

"Yeah, he does, no problem, sorry." Gin tucked the card away with a small gesture of apology. "I'll drop them off at your house as soon as I get them, don't worry. And I won't buy anything else."

"All right. I'll be waiting," Sanji glanced at Luffy, "Hey, Luff—I'm going to split, I need to get back to the Baratie and make sure everything's good. You have my house number so call me if you hear anything, yeah?" He was already moving the door as Luffy nodded. He needed to get back to the Baratie; he'd been away too long; all day, He knew there was nothing going down over there, knew that that world from which he had come from was stable and well-lit. But he just wanted to see his old man and his fellow cooks and make sure that the shitheads were okay.

~0~

Somewhere, hours before, across the city, less benevolent thoughts are at work. This man always seems to prefer the darkness to the light. If it was day, he would be found hidden, locked in an office with no windows and cement walls a foot thick. If it was night, he would be found inside it, clutched to its breast. Yet he is not alone; there will always be those who prefer the shadows and who group together. Birds of a feather. Snakes of a scale. Vultures of a claw. Cipher Pol Number Nine is very much a bestial menagerie.

Rob Lucchi slammed his hands down, the knuckles and joints immediately curled into claws. But despite the violence of his actions and the twisted tension corkscrewing his body, his voice was tight, controlled, almost serene, "You still haven't found him—Kalifa?"

The icy blonde woman in front of him did not so much as flinch, her eyes, the color of glaciers and just as cold and remote, said, "No we have not Lucchi. But we are searching as best we can. No one has seen him or knows anything about his whereabouts."

"So, Teach was right!" Jyabura barked, his harsh voice tinged in amusement, from where he was sitting in one of the plain, Art Deco chairs, "Looks like Portgas was a bad apple to begin with. What'd he tell you Lucchi, eh?"

"Nothing. He just repeated his promise and his concessions—as well as what he expected for cooperation," Lucchi murmured, looking intently on the papers scattered over his desk, "Yet if we find Portgas before anything, we have him _and_ we do not have to concede Teach anything. We will stand at a much better position."

"So Teach knows where Portgas is," Kaku said from where he stood leaning on a wall with his arms crossed across his chest, "Subpoena him—"

"Useless," Lucchi cut him off without even looking at him, "He stressed his ignorance on that part—though I do not believe him—and warned against any covert movement on our part. We gain nothing from that except more trouble than it's worth. Teach is not a man who will fall because of a simple _subpoena_, Kaku. In future, do not crowd my ears with such ignorant suggestions. You inexperience shows badly when you do."

Furious silence on Kaku's part in which the long-nosed man made a visible withdrawal into himself. His brown eyes darkened to black as they went blank. The irises reflected nothing more than the small light on the table and were as alive as two polished rocks which had somehow had found their way onto the man's face.

Lucchi continued, his face disclosing nothing, "I want Garp's grandson out of this _now_. The little brat is running around, hampering our movements. I did nothing to him today because I have strict orders to not harm those civilians which are related to the Government, yet I was sorely tempted. He needs to leave. I have already made the necessary contacts with his grandfather and I am awaiting his decision. If it not favorable, and _if_ he continues to meddle—Blueno, I expect it to be quick, clean, and with no traces of evidence to incriminate you. Am I understood?"

The man he was addressing—a large, heavy set man with a face like a block and a absurdly tapered waist with long, slender legs and a large, square-cut beard, nodded slowly. "It will be done, Boss."

Lucchi didn't stop, neither did he lift his eyes from above his desk, and only a thin crescent of a smile which showed too many teeth betrayed his unhealthy fixation on the subject of Garp's grandson, "Quick—but not necessarily painless—his body must _not _be found, you must not be seen, and there must be some sort of narcotics placed in his house to incriminate him."

"But only if he interferes again, right Boss?" Blueno rumbled, his jaw going up and down mechanically, chewing his gum as methodically as a cow chews its cud. "I don't touch him before."

"No. Only if he sticks his nose where it should not be or if he plays where he should not be playing," Lucchi rubbed at his temples, before saying, "As for Teach—we will continue to delay our response and continue to search for Portgas. We do nothing if nothing happens. If Portgas continues on his mad rampage, we will _consider_ Teach. But I do not plan to accept unless we have no choice. So for now we must focus on Portgas. Kalifa?" Lucchi glanced at her expectantly.

"Garp's grandson—Luffy D. Monkey—, Zoro Roronoa, Robin Nico, Usopp Sogeking, Kohza Ermalu, Antonio Chopper, Brooklyn Esqueleto, Franklin Thomas, all of Teach's faction basically. Those are the main individuals whom probably know the location of Portgas."

"Good," Lucchi said, "All right. We've talked to all of them so far. But now the time has come to put some more pressure on these kids. Give me that folder Kumadori."

Kumadori, a large deathly-pale man with a forbidding beer belly and long, stringy, white hair tangled over his shoulders, nodded and passed a large manila folder he was clutching. "Yoi-yoi! Here it is Lucchi."

"All right. Find these people. Use everything you can to make them talk—less actual force. If they have a record, use it against them. Promise them everything—even if we cannot fulfill it. Promise them a clean slate, a wiped record. Threaten to bring up old charges if they desist. Bring up their lovers, their friends, their family. Offer protection if they want. Do anything. But—_make them talk._"

"Yes sir," the unanimous reply answered.

Lucchi nodded, pleased, "I will talk to Robin Nico myself. She has the most to gain, the least to lose, and the one who probably knows more."

He paused, thinking, "Jyabura, keep an eye on Smoker and that assistant of his. I want them as ignorant as they can be without hindering us. I already reported his actions, but I doubt they'll actually transfer him. He's too much in the public eye."

"Yeah, whatever. Leave it to me. I'll herd them like sheep," Jyabura shrugged and put his feet up on another chair.

Lucchi threw him a contemptuous look which was more habit than actual contempt. He glanced at his subordinates, marking them each, binding them all to their job and to the punishment that would no doubt befall them if they dared to fuck up.

"We were told to clean this city up. We will do so, in any ways possible. Injustice must not be suffered to live. Justice will prevail; it always will. We are the agents of justice and hold the sole responsibility of carrying the mantle which many others are too cowardly and weak-kneed to do so. We will pursue our aims until we reach them. Anything or anybody who chooses to oppose justice shall be exterminated. That is all."

~0~

"Shit…how far is Lucchi going to reach his aims?" Smoker murmured gruffly to himself as he looked over the reports in his hands, "He's pulling files from all over on fucking _everyone." _

After a pause in which the grey-haired man expected an answer, he looked up. As he should have expected; his assistant was humming happily as she cleaned and polished her 9 millimeter Glock sidearm.

"_Tashigi!" _Captain Smoker barked, slamming his fist down on the table.

"_Y-Yes Captain Smoker!" _Tashigi, a dark-haired young woman who might have been pretty underneath her short black hair and big, engineer-looking glasses nearly dropped her weapon at the sound of Smoker's voice.

"Stop pretending that you're at home practicing with those freaky Japanese swords of yours, clutz!" Smoker growled, "Keep your weapon in its holder, officer! Or you'll have to fill out an Incident report about the need to draw your weapon."

"I'm sorry Captain!" Tashigi saluted him with a crisp snap of her wrist, her face both austere and woebegone, "It won't happen again Captain! Forgive me Captain!" Smoker gave a groan inside. Sometimes his assistant Sergeant Major went overboard with the apologies. She was the youngest member of the force, and the one who was not only a woman but also second only to him. As a result, she had become a perfectionist, determined to prove all the dissenters who had opposed her promotion, wrong.

"I said, "Lucchi's really going all out—he's pulling all the files on all of Teach's known gang members with close relations to Portgas. He's probably looking for something to use against them as leverage, and God knows, he'll find it. These kids just have too many strikes against them. He's going to dangle a fish that is too good to bite and something's going to happen."

"With all due respect Captain!" Tashigi rapped out, formally, her hand still at a perfect forty-five degree angle at her head and her eyes trained on the ceiling, "Shouldn't any information leading to the arrest of Portgas be welcomed?"

"Not if its false or misleading information which leads to the arrest of an innocent man," Smoker grunted, "Remember, we move with an open mind. Portgas is innocent until proven guilty. We're looking for truth, not justice. Truth gives birth to justice. Lucchi believes _he_ is the mother. That is the problem here. I don't want him scaring the green shit out of a kid who's so eager to get out from under those claws that he swears up and down that he saw Portgas torch the building himself."

"What are you suggesting Sir?"

There was a few seconds silence as the smoker breathed in the dual smoke of his Cuban cigars and thought heavily, finally he said, "Find Roronoa and tell him that Lucchi's moving. Tell him that if they don't hold strong than Lucchi's going to rip them open."

Tashigi faltered, her eyes wide and conflicted, "But—But Captain Smoker—that goes against protocol—"

"I don't give a damn Sergeant!" Smoker snapped, "You find the kid and you damn well tell him what I told you, understood!"

"Yes—Yes sir." But her eyes were still unsure.

Smoker sighed and lowered his voice, "Sergeant—I'm following my instinct right now. Portgas is innocent, and by default, so are those kids. Lucchi doesn't care if they are or not. He's cleaning them out anyway. That sounds like some fucked up ethnic cleansing to me. I'm going to be there to protect these kids if they need protection. If you have a problem with this, Tashigi, I suggest you tell me and I'll transfer you to another unit with equal salary and position."

"No Captain Smoker!" the blackhaired woman barked out, "That will not be necessary Sir! I trust you with my life and I will follow your lead. Please excuse my momentary rudeness!" She saluted again.

"Good," Smoker nodded, satisfied, "Do as I told you then. Keep an eye on Lucchi and that damn secretary of his. Do everything you can to impede his movements—except if he's dealing with Teach and the higher-ups. Or if the kids are actually fucking up. Then, by all means let Lucchi lock them up."

This seemed to relive Tashigi a bit, "Very well Captain!"

"Smoker!" A strong, female voice called out even as they heard the hard, fast reports of heels clicking along the hallway, "Smoker! Are you in your office Smoker? Hina is looking for you!"

Tashigi immediately answered, snapping a salute to the approaching voice, "Yes ma'm! Captain Smoker is here! I will inform him that Captain Hina is looking for him immediately!"

"Don't bother," Smoker grunted, amused, "Hina is a creep who likes to refer to herself in the third person. Right…Hina?"

"Hina thinks you are correct, though rude," the woman answered, coming though the office door and nodded politely to Tashigi, "Good to see you Sergeant."

"Pleasure to see you Captain Hina!"

Hina, her long strawberry blonde hair which fell to the small of her back, glanced back at Smoker; her blue eyes peering critically over the long, thin, smoking cylinder in her mouth. "Smoker. It seems like you're going to have trouble here. I came to talk to you—captain to captain—about offering you assistance from the Red Line PD. I can spare the absence of some officers and cars."

"Thank you Hina," Smoker grunted, twisting the cigar in his mouth slowly, "That will be much appreciated. But I only accept good, reliable men who follow me, me, and only me."

The blonde sat down, smirking coldly, "You still continue to be a wild dog, Smoker? I should have thought better than to think that you had changed from all the time we've known each other. Still following your own path, and to hell with the authorities? Hina is amused."

"Better to follow my path then a crooked one," Smoker countered, "Lucchi's fucking things up over here. He's attacking anybody and everybody without caution or justification."

"Hina is not surprised," Hina said, smiling thinly, "I worked with him before, and a colder bastard I have not met. He was more of a bastard than I was. And a crueler one."

Smoker snorted laughter, "Heh. Colder than 'Black Cage Hina'? I'm surprised. I remember the rookies called you that behind your back because of the amount of people you put behind bars. You slammed them in there quite frequently."

"But with _reason!_" Hina said, smiling, "I never put a man behind bars that did not deserve it."

"Which is why I can work with you and not with Lucchi," Smoker said, brow furrowing slightly, "Let me ask you—will you work with me?"

Hina nodded, her face serious, "That is why I am here, Smoker. I understand Lucchi's methods very well and I do not want out sister city to be bathed in a bloodbath like last time with that man."

Smoker laced his hands together, elbows on his desk, and propped his head on them, looking at Hina from under tufted brows, "I'm coming to believe that it is too late. The wheels of something God-almighty immense are turning, regardless of what we do or do not do. When the dust settles, things are going to be much different. Things are going to be forever changed and whoever isn't strong enough to adapt and roll with the changes is going to be winnowed out."

He paused, measuring them, trying to gauge the fortitude of their souls, their wills.

"The Era of Blackbeard—otherwise known as Edward D. Teach—is ending. The era of these old gangs are ending. We will have to be prepared for that arises out of the waters next."

~0~

He was passing along the hallway, his mind foggy and racing in millions of directions, enough so that the love-pain was dulled. He almost didn't see the short, stocky figure leaning against the stove, looking at him through an arch in the wall, until his name was called out raspily.

"Sanji!"

The cook froze, and turned, beholding the figure of his adopted father watching him from sharp, yellow eyes set above a hawkish nose.

"What old man?" he said, staying where he was. He knew he was going to get a lecture for daring to run away during his shift at the Baratie and right now was not the perfect time to get yelled out. His head was too busy, too full.

Zeff didn't expand and neither did he call him out. Instead, the old man who seemed old only because of the wrinkles in his face and whose age remained a mystery because of the fire in his eyes was that of a much younger man, said, "Come here little eggplant. Help your Chef to cook the roast I bought today."

"Aw, Owner," Sanji said, scratching the back of his head, "I had a late night yesterday—"

"Get your scrawny, string-bean ass over here little muffin!" Zeff barked, "Are you disobeying your Owner Chef!"

"Okay, okay!" he grumbled, moving towards him, "Stop bitching will you?" This was the cream of their relationship. The name-calling, the pinching, the kicking, the pulling of hair or moustache was the surest sign that they still deeply loved and respected each other.

Zeff rolled up his sleeves and motioned to the package on the table, "Marinate the roast and stuff it. I will make the bread rolls. Wash your hands."

Sanji did, and then used a kitchen knife to peel the plastic wrap off the large roast. Zeff was thumping around the huge kitchen, his peg leg hitting the granite floors with each step. The doctors had offered him a prosthetic leg of the finest quality made of titanium, aluminum, and the finest technology—they sure had enough money to pay for it. But Zeff had declined with a snort.

_Do I look like I should have a fake leg made out of aluminum? I want a peg leg—like a pirate. That way I can tell people I lost it when my men mutinied and tried to steal my buried treasure. I'll say, 'they used to call me Red Leg Zeff because I drenched my leg in the blood of my victims.' And then I'll ask them if they want the last cookie or if they'll be so kind as to give it to me. _

He had almost lost himself in his thought again before Zeff suddenly snapped out, "Eggplant—you're getting yourself into some deep shit."

He didn't even skip a beat, "What the hell makes you say that old man?" His hands continued picking out sauces and spices from off the cupboard shelf, measuring and adding, making the marinating sauce with perfection.

"Don't lie to your old man!" Zeff grunted, "I know a worried face when I see one. You've dragged your little, cauliflower ass into something which is going to eat you alive and you're wondering how the hell you're going to survive without losing your manhood and it shows all over your octopus's face."

_What! _

His mind froze.

_Oh, shit…how much does he fucking know? How the hell does he even fucking know? Shit!_

"Where the hell did you come up with that?" he snorted, not turning, but knowing that Zeff knew and furiously thinking of a way out of it. How the hell Zeff knew was a mystery. But how much did he know? Did he know that his adopted son was unofficially in a gang and screwing one of the male gang members? Jesus Christ in a chicken basket! His hands trembled minutely as he felt the very foundation of his entire world shaking.

"I don't know anything, so you can relax your shoulder blades and let your scrotum down from where its crawled up to your belly and pull that stick from out of your white, pasty butt," Zeff remarked, "You've just got an easy face to read Sanji…You're one of those that wears their hearts on their sleeves. And you should know we've been through too much together to not read each other's souls."

"Then—" he began, trying to control his voice, "That what do want? I don't get it. Maybe I'm—"

"Stop right there little rutabaga-head, "Zeff interrupted, "I never asked to know. Neither do I want to know. You're old enough now to have secrets and another life besides the one you'll always have in the kitchen. I'm just here because I consider you my son."

Zeff paused, "So I'm the one who has to tell you that you have to watch your ass, kid. Be careful. Keep your trust and your heart close to you. You're mortal and human, kid." The old chef turned away and shrugged his broad shoulders, his voice getting rougher and gruffer as he continued, "You have a brilliant future, remember that. Whatever happens—know that you have the means to leave it all behind." The chef fell silent.

Sanji, eyes wide and eyebrows screwed up in trepidation, watched Zeff's mute back with a strange expression.

"A-All right chef."

"Now hurry your butt up and make my dinner."

~0~

"Principal Sengoku—someone's here to see you," the young secretary announced, clipboard in hand at the door of his office.

Sengoku waved her away, not looking up, "Tell them I'm busy. If they have no appointment then I cannot see them—and I have no one scheduled for today."

"Too busy to see an old friend?" A gruff voice answered and Sengoku glanced up, surprised.

"Garp! What are you doing here! I am a busy man Garp!"

The man threw back his head and laughed loudly, his ruddy complexion turning even redder with the bursts of mirth, "Awww…Sengoku, Sengoku, you haven't changed at all! Always turning a molehill into a mountain! Why don't you eat some donuts and relax a little?" Garp grinned winningly, his square-cut jaw, just barely crowned with wisps of steel-grey hair, was so set in his face that it immediately gave the impression that he was either infernally stubborn or outrageously determined. To state the truth—he was both.

The principal of East Blue High School must have conceded defeat, faced as he was with the determination of the bulldog jaw. He waved to the seat with an air of resigned offense, "Sit down and say what you have to say Garp. I promise nothing else."

The man heavily settled himself into one of the plastic chairs in front of the desk. The effect was ludicrous. His large bulk over spilled the creaking chair, a chair which was meant for hapless, wandering students who had forgotten themselves enough to become educational criminals. The chair protested strongly at the injustice done it.

But Garp D. Monkey did not seem to mind the absurdity. He settled into the seat with a grin; as if he not only understood the ludicrousness of his position, but understood, realized, and reveled in it. In that moment, the similarity to his grandson was incredibly strong.

Sengoku must have also seen the resemblance, for he scowled, even as his eyes lightened, "Your rug-monkey is as troublesome as ever Garp. He gets himself into all sorts of escapades, you'd think he was a magnet for all things problematic."

"Takes after his father," Garp growled, "Both of them can't keep their hands out of their pants or off something equally havoc-wreaking. I should have known that nothing different could come out of the loins of that son of mine."

"It runs in the family I see," Sengoku noted dryly, lacing his hands into a steeple and propping his chin on them, "Why am I not surprised?"

"You won't believe what that rugmonkey is up to Sengoku!" Garp spat, a warm twinkle in his eye belying his harsh words, "Last time I saw him, he changed his name to a mythological creature _and_ tattooed the half his face in some outlandish Asian ideogram! He's taken to wearing a green cloak too if that wasn't enough…"

"That is completely your fault Garp," Sengoku interrupted, rattling his papers in authority, "You were never a responsible father _or_ grandfather. That is why your creed runs amok."

"At least they have style!"the older man barked cheerfully, his attitude reminiscent of an old, contented dog who has found a nice, big t-bone steak bone and has settled down to chew it, "I was vacationing in San Francisco; being serenaded by a passel of hippie hobos on acoustic guitars, when I got a call from my office saying that the grandson was interfering in federal matters! That he's intimidating Cipher agents—Roberto Lucchi, no less—and protecting arsonists on the lam! It was a proud moment, Sengoku. A proud moment."

"_Take responsibility Garp!_" Sengoku snapped, his black eyes narrowing behind the circular lenses of his glasses, "That Lucchi is the wrong man to cross! He came here a few days ago to see what he could dig up; and I must say that the man has not changed an iota from his rookie days on the force.

The response was another jovial volley of harsh laughter; the old dog was clearly amused, "That's why I was absolutely furious! I raised Luffy to be a strong, fearless policeman or maybe even an FBI or CIA agent. And now he's running around like some kind of juvenile delinquent! That's why I'm here Sengoku." Garp ruined the gravity of his words by pulling out an immense bag of rice and seaweed crackers from somewhere underneath his large grey peacoat, opening it with a crinkle, and popping more than was probably healthy, into his mouth. "from friend to friend—talk to him Sengoku, " he said, crumbs spilling into his whiskers.

"I would think that _you_ would stand a much better chance to convince your grandson of the errors of his ways. I've spent nearly four years attempting to talk to Luffy."

Garp shook his grizzled head, "Impossible. I leave for the capital today and then to England for what purpose, damned if I know. But that's where they tell me to go, so I'll go. Anyway, I utterly loathe using those god-cursed c_ellular_ _phones_. When I was a kid we didn't have those! I need you to talk to Luffy for me. Tell him I absolutely _forbid_ his interfering with federal matters, government matters, civil matters, political matters, etcetera. Tell him that he's limited to choosing his own underwear for the day."

The principal suppressed a laugh, "Still Garp…I doubt anything I say will cross his thick head."

The old military man shrugged his broad shoulders, "Tell him that I'm losing one already; I don't want to lose him as well."

Sengoku understood and he nodded, "I will. And on a second note—your close links to Ace D. Portgas are relatively unknown—I suggest you keep it that way, regardless of your feelings in the situation. Hard—I know—"

"Harder than the devil's right testicle," Garp muttered, "The gall and damned idiocy of these fools! Accusing my adopted grandson of arson! That man wouldn't kick a dog if it bit his hand. He's just a kid, yet. I feel like an old man Sengoku. There's nothing I can do about it; even if I threw my entire reputation away. He's too wrapped up in the underworld for me to extricate him safely."

"Not your fault, old friend. You had a job to do; _I _had a job to do. That was around the Roger-Newgate aftermath incident wasn't it? There was simply too much happening for us to pay attention to other things."

"Still," Garp grunted, his brow heavy with brooding, "I shouldn't have overlooked Ace. Roger died and I handed him to Newgate like Roger wanted. Then Newgate died and somehow Teach was the one that Ace was supposed to go to. I had my suspicions…but I never looked into it. And now, I wonder if I should have. Ace has been passed around like some kind of trash. Poor kid, I don't wonder why he joined Teach's gang. I didn't pay attention—the rise of the Supernova and the trouble with the Warlords…"

"It's completely understandable Garp. There's no reason for you to torture yourself with the past," Sengoku advised, looking hard at the man across from him, "There's no returning to it. Focus on the future now. And on the safety of your other grandson."

"I know. Yet…" Garp trailed of, and then continued starkly, "I wonder if it's time to tell Ace and Luffy about their pasts? I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would bring out that dirty laundry for them. But they should know before they get themselves into something deeper for the sake of men that don't deserve it."

"You'll do as you see fit."

"I would like it better if I actually _knew_ for certain about everything. But I don't. I don't, Sengoku. And that eats at me like an ulcer. It only reinforces the fact that I have to retire soon. My era is passing." He sighed, a rattling, tired exhalation that only reinforced his words. "Damn it," he said tiredly.

Sengoku snorted, "Not just your era Garp. This _entire _era is passing. The era of the small timers like Arlong and Krieg and Buggy. The leftovers from the old days of Newgate and Roger."

"You're going to see a record number of high school dropouts Sengoku," Garp said, getting up heavily, "Starting with my Ace. Better be ready for it."

Sengoku Gautama had the last say, as he always seemed to have, back when his long plaited braid had still been short and when Garp's short, cropped hair had been as black as the night, "I have always been ready for it Garp. Ever since Edward died, I knew that this would come to pass." He paused, "I'll talk to Luffy come Monday. Now…leave, you didn't even have an appointment."

~0~

The courthouse was a dingy, oddly comfortable living room in someone's apartment. The thin, plaster walls were a drab shade off off-white which didn't really matter because no one really ever paid attention to them. There was no judge because the judge was the spirit of the people; and the jury was constituted of every single man and woman whom was present. The trial of Ace D. Portgas was going down in Water 7. There would be several trials across the land, several living rooms turned courthouses quickly manufactured, there would be several verdicts. Some favorable, others not.

"Didn't do it," Franky grunted from where he was slumped casually in an armchair, "Come on—let's look at this logically. We all know Ace, yeah? Would he really do this? Some of our friends live in Galley-la! And my own brother owns the property. I think what'd I say carries some weight then."

Kohza nodded and spoke up, "We've all known Ace since before he joined. There's no reason why'd he do this, short of having run insane."

There was a rumble of consensus. Heads turned and nodded to their neighbors. The defense had been heard and found sound.

"Yeah," another guy spoke up; this one had a remarkable beer belly and a bald head and who often went by his Native American name of Genbou, "What about the whole witness and lighter stuff? It looks like they have quite a lot of evidence against Ace." His tone was not necessarily one of objection, but more one of questioning.

"Yeah," Usopp put in, frowning, "But who's _they?_ It's CP9 who's saying that. It's the people who wouldn't think twice about putting something illegal in our backpacks when we're not looking. It was a set-up, the Galley-la fire. Ace was framed."

A greater rumble, more nods and a few indignant, muffled words.

"When I first heard about it," Laki put in, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes dark, "I admit I was beyond angry with Ace…but after looking at it logically—" She turned down to look at her child playing at her feet, apparently bored with all the talk, "I can't think of a reason for Ace to do this to us. It doesn't make sense…Aisa, leave my shoes alone."

Brooke clapped briefly, "I agree whole-heartedly with Miss. Laki! Though she refuses to let me see her pant—Wiper! Let me—"

The budding musician was effectively muzzled by the strong, brown hand of Laki's brother who sported a plethora of tribal tattoos and a long, thick plaited Mohawk braid. "I agree with this fool of a musician." The thin, beat up cigarette at his lips wavered slightly, "I only know Portgas through his brother who helped me do something once, long ago. And I will say it now—I and all my tribe have an enormous debt to the brother of Portgas, and if he stands by that man, then we will stand too, regardless of innocence or guilt." Wiper swept his eyes challengingly across the room, and seeing no defiance or condemnation, nodded tightly and sat back down next to Laki. Genbou and Brahm crossed their arms and bowed their heads in assent.

"And Zoro believes in Ace-bro," Franky put in, "I talked to him this morning and he was a little pissed off that some of us thought Ace was guilty. Apparently tummy-wrapper had been with firefist-bro all that day—so either Zoro's lying, covering up for Ace, also in on the fire, or they're both completely innocent."

"No—not Roronoa," a relatively older man who went by the strange name of Cricket grated out, his own cigarette clasped between his middle and ring finger, "I've known that boy since he was a kid. We all have. And I happen to know him better than Portgas I vouch for him."

"Same here, same here," came the rumbles of agreement from the room.

"Even if he's been choosing to hang out with that Blackleg," Valentine said, shrugging her shoulders and fixing a ruffle in her mini dress which was oddly covered in citrus print, "He's been pretty distanced lately, ever since that guy showed up at the beach—remember that? I think the bet's the _furthest_ thing from his mind. They're always together now."

Laki laughed, "I find it cute. Kamakiri texted me a while ago saying he gave Zoro and another guy a lift to Amazon Lily in a limousine. He wasn't sure though, because the guy was wearing sunglasses and a bandana, but Kamikiri said he was quite sure it was him. The other guy was a blond."

Usopp rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, like that matters Laki. So what if he likes the guy? There's more important things to think about! They were probably there to see if they could find information about Ace—Hancock knows Zoro and she's influential enough to know a thing or two. It's beside the point. The point _is_—who framed Ace, why, what they're thinking of doing next, and what _we're_ going to do about it." The afroed man ticked off the issues on his fingers, his black eyes worried.

"Maybe—"

The talk went on as it always did, as it was going on throughout the various households, and in the case of _Ace D. Portgas v. Accusations_, Ace had been found innocent. Water 7 had made its irrefutable decision, it would stand by their fallen brother.

~0~

Salt is not salt without pepper. Black is useless without white and white cannot exist without black. The heart and the brain work together in conjunction and the point-counterpoint of life is fundamental. So Enies Lobby felt the girding for war of Water 7. It felt the stirrings, the whispers and the groans, the steady increase of the beating of the heart because the two entities were chained together irrevocably.

Nami Mikan looked thoughtfully at her friend from across the small circular table on which they were quietly drinking their mochas. Perhaps it was a little too late for there to be justification for their ice-cold drinks. But then, in California, the weather never seemed to change from the warm seventy degrees in which it was perpetually at.

"It's been two weeks already, Nami," Vivi said softly, her bright blue eyes sweet with sympathy, "Are you fine…?"

Nami shrugged, "I'm not sure. I still think of him often…much too often. But…I know…that it's over. That it's been over for a while and that it will always _be_ over. Even if we ever pick up our friendship again from where it's seemed to stall."

"So not even the '_let's be friends'_ spiel?" Vivi remarked, her question not really a question.

"Maybe it's better that why," Nami replied, sipping her mocha, "I don't even want to know what kind of trouble he's getting himself into with that guy. Though at the same time—I would probably help him get out of anything."

"He's still hanging out with Zoro?" Vivi again remarked in her question-that-wasn't-really-a-question.

The orange head rolled her eyes, "They should just get married; they're _always_ together; I'm sure. Whatever. Let them do what they want."

They let the conversation stall and enjoyed their drinks, letting their gazes drift out the window in which they only saw their dark reflections.

"Feels creepy out there," Nami said softly. It was something she would have never said to someone who hadn't known her since childhood and whom she hadn't bared her heart to.

Vivi nodded, "It reminds me of…" The blonde trailed off. She colored a little, thinking that she sounded beyond paranoid.

Nami glanced at her, urging her to continue, "You feel it?"

"When I lived in Egpyt—right before there was civil unrest—it felt like this," Vivi finished, and then shook her head, "It's just me though, I'm sure."

Nami didn't answer.

~0~

"_What! Goddamn them!" _

A crash of porcelain tableware as the shouter's threshold for anger reached the top and she slammed one high-heeled biker boot onto the stack of dirty, used plates stacked on the table she was currently sitting on like some kind of strange table goddess.

Jewelry Bonny. Known for her eccentrically dyed pink hair, her astonishingly supple figure when seen in context to her excessive gluttony, and the ruthlessness with which she had earned and with which she carried her Supernova status. Too many followed her lead for her to be not considered in the hierarchy of Water 7.

She had dabbled in everything, from slave trafficking to forced euthanasia. Bonny was a woman of vast resources and means. And now, this woman was furious. It would have taken a very brave or a very stupid man to infuriate her.

"It's true Ms. Jewelry," a man beside her said, his broad, peasant face dismayed, "Blackbeard's movements are the main cause for the Cipher's increasing interference. Portgas was Blackbeard's gang member and adopted son—his actions are clearly supported and catalyzed by Blackbeard himself."

"Fucking kids these days," Bonny hissed between her teeth, the lipstick on her mouth slightly smudged, "And just when I got myself comfortable here in Water 7…_they have to go and fuck things up!_" She slammed the other visibly swaying stack of dishes to her left with her foot and sent them shattering on the floor to join their brothers.

"Boss—"

"_Silence! Listen up men!"_ Bonny snapped, directing her angry gaze at the men around her, "Blackbeard's men are the trouble here! They're the ones that screwed the situation up! We were perfectly fine before they started rampaging their stupid asses off and causing all this unwanted attention to fall on _everybody_, not just them. You know what we do to stupid asses like them? We _fucking kill those idiots!_"

"_Yeah, Boss!" _

Bonny slid off the table in one fluid motion, her skin tight shirt sliding up for one second to reveal a flat midriff which should have been scientifically impossible with the sheer amount of food she usually stuffed into her mouth on a daily basis.

"We won't actively beef with them, men!" she yelled, striding to the bar and seizing another platter of deep-fried shrimp, "Not until all hell breaks loose at least. But for now, you see a Blackbeard member—you _kill that motherfucker, _you hear?"

Another roar shook the rum bottles in the bar; adding a delicate _clink-clink-clink_ to the symphony of violence. Jewelry Bonny snatched up one of the brown whiskey bottles, and with a quick snap of her wrist, broke the glass neck against the dull edge of the marble counter, and not even bothering with the jagged edges, raised the mutilated Jack Daniels bottle to her garish lips and drank the fireball liquid down.

~0~

The noise from upstairs thumped and throbbed through the walls and a piece of plaster, unluckily separated itself from the ceiling by the continuous thumps of feet, and drifted lazily down until it landed on the top of a large, succulent dish of lasagna.

The sole diner, paused the fork above his own slice of the Italian cuisine, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Vulgar whore, can she not stay quiet for one damned second?" A man stepped forward and snatched the tiny piece of plaster from off the lasagna and stepped back respectfully.

The men lined along the basement's walls, held back their need to swallow. A tall man at the diner's side bent down respectively, "Mr. Capone—Bonny is not a person to heedlessly anger."

"Get out of my face, _sciocco!_ When I want your damned opinion I will ask for it," Capone snarled, making a violent gesticulation with the hand not occupied with his meal. "As for now, get your _idiota _ass up there and tell her to shut her whorish mouth before I go up there and teach her how to fuck with Capone Gang Bege. She's but a child yet. You tell her that her Supernova status is a mistake." His clipped, accented words were not without a sharp form of intelligence.

"Y-Yes Boss," the man swallowed with difficulty and stumbled upstairs.

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Capone motioned another man from out of the line, "You. Follow him—the moment he steps out of the bar, shoot him in the back of the head, _capito?_ Quick and easy, no? If you don't bring me back his Beretta, then don't bother coming back."

"Understood Boss."

There was a few moments silence in which the only sounds heard were the clink and clatter of silverware and the heavy, rasping breathing of a smoker who has long surrendered to his vice and embraced it lovingly. Capone's thick, trademark Cuban cigar lay smoldering in an ink black ashtray next to his dinner plate. He would take a mouthful of the lasagna, chew, swallow; then put his fork down and drag deeply from the coffin nail and then the whole process would repeat again.

"Ricco."

"_Dimmi, boss." _

"Blackbeard. What is he thinking, eh? He should know better than to have his son wreak havoc on their own people. Has he finally run all the way mad? Or is that what he wants us to think?" Capone put down the fork and picked up his cigar.

"_Non so boss," _Ricco answered, not moving from his erect military position against the wall, "His actions cannot be explained either as a gang leader or a warlord. Perhaps Portgas's actions are isolated—his own personal grudge against the apartment complex owner or someone living in that wing? Hard to say Boss."

"It's what I think," Capone said, his mouth lifting momentarily in a sneer, "But now we have Cipher Pol agents and police crawling through this place like lice in a week-old carcass. And people like _those_—" Capone raised a finger and pointed it to the ceiling above him, "running around like chickens with their heads cut off. She's a joke. So is Blackbeard. So is Portgas. We're not jokes, eh?"

"No, boss."

"I have no desire to see Water 7 go down in flames. It's been a good time, but we leave for Tijuana tomorrow. Just us here, eh? No need for others to come. The smart ones will soon vacate the premises before it becomes impossible to leave. I'm a smart man, no? It's why I'm still alive. I don't give a fuck about Portgas or Blackbeard or Newgate or Lucchi. I give a fuck about me. We leave tomorrow."

"Understood, Mr. Capone."

"Not to worry _uomini_," Capone said coldly, looking down the line of deadpan faces and frozen forms, "We'll return soon. We'll return when they've all beaten the shit out of each other and killed each other down to the last man. We'll come back when Water 7 and Enies Lobby are destroyed and we'll pick up the pieces for our own uses. I'm a smart man," he tapped his forehead with one hoary, yellowed fingernail, "Follow me and you will go far."

~0~

"Fucker's been putting the evil eye on me the whole fucking evening," the man snarled. Thin, red lips curled up in a little sneer, not without humor. "I'm getting a little annoyed gentlemen. And believe me when I say that I'm in too good of a mood for it to be ruined by an idiot who vaguely resembles the ass of a very ugly baboon."

"Ah, leave him be Kidd," another man shrugged from across the table, "He probably doesn't have a life and tries to make up for it by making an ass out of himself. Anyway, you fight now—probably more trouble getting out of here."

Kidd's shoulders shook as he laughed a trifle nastily, "True, true—you guys have to enjoy yourselves then. It's a fucking amazing day. I had to get my ass out of Water 7 since it was as boring as hell lately. But now—" Kidd rubbed his hands together gleefully, the goggles strapped to his forehead reflected the light of the neon tubing coming from the stripper's platform, "—things are getting good. Killer says that Blackbeard's running insane over there and that everything's right about to go off the deep end."

"Is that what the other boss says?" another man asked, laughing, "Eh—no wonder you're in a good mood Kidd. This is right up your ally."

"It's great!" Kidd smirked, "I'm tired of Las Vegas already. There's not much more than laying strippers and snorting coke. I always knew Water 7 would fuck itself up, it's why I was born there! It's about time we raise a little hell over there. I want to spit in Blackbeard's eye and piss upon his fat, bloated corpse; nasty fucker."

His men seconded the statement with cheers and applause, and one drunken man screamed, "Preach it Kidd!"

The flaming redhead leaned forward and grinned, "Exactly. Blackbeard and Whitebeard and all those old relics have got to go. They're antediluvian, primordial, moth-eaten idiots who mistake their age for legacy. New stars are rising. And anything stupid enough to get in the way isn't going to last very long. It makes me happy, gentlemen. And being happy puts me in a good mood and _so don't fucking ruin my good mood you ugly, fuckface! Turn your disgusting baboon-prepuce face elsewhere if you don't want me to wrench your dick from off your dead body and feed it to the first stray mutt I find, do you understand me shithead!" _ Kidd roared, slamming his vodka bottle down, his lips pulled back in a dog's snarl as he glared across the room at the man who had been bothering him since the commencement of the evening.

Gasps and screams, not quite hidden by the rapid, electrifying techno.

"Oh, shit Kidd—"

Kidd was already up, hands balled into fists on the table, a cool smirk saturating his face, turning his eyes warm, almost kind, "You've been eyeballing me this whole evening, punk! You still have the balls to fuck with me now!"

"Kidd, Kidd—it's Apoo! Scratchman! Kidd—" The surprised, slightly nervous faces of his men turned towards the redhead, their eyes slightly guilty at not recognizing the man across the room with the strange outfit and even stranger abnormally elongated arms. But he indeed looked decidedly more primal than the typical man. "It's a Supernova—"

"Shut up," Kidd said softly, not unkindly, "This guy's been asking for a beating. I'm just fulfilling his heart's desire. I do not give a fuck who he is."

"Neither do I care about who _you_ are, bastard!" came the reply, a beautiful, musical tenor, "But you're mistaken! It wasn't you who had to put up with my face! It was _I_ who nearly couldn't stand your ugly, atrocious pale skin and disgustingly red hair!"

Kidd smiled, "Get back," he murmured to his men.

"Oh, shit," the drunken man said. He was right.

~0~

All of them could feel it; that bracing, that buckling, that heated debate. Some felt it and took to their heels, never to return. They fled to Detroit, Seattle, Sacramento. They fled to where it was a trifle cooler, where the temperature wasn't close to boiling the skin right off their fucking bones.

Others smelt the trouble, and like sharks who scented the ounce of blood in the vast waters of the oceans, they honed in, following their bloodhound noses so that they could participate in the kill.

Others hoped they were wrong; hoped that the labor pains which were piercing the bloated belly of crime would stop before the climax and miscarry what would undoubtedly be one hideous, misshapen child. They shut their windows, cleaned their nests of any illegal substances, and prayed for what seemed the first time in years, hoping, yet knowing better.

Others didn't give a fuck; they lit up on both sides of the imagined barrier and nodded out of a reality which had long since denied them.

Others got up and stayed up; they worked for a change, though it was too late. And they readied themselves.

But everywhere there was movement, perpetual motion as forces dragged themselves on and as cycles completed themselves. Doors opened and people migrated from place to place, from ideology to ideology. Everywhere, the wind blew and the water rushed.

And somewhere, someone laughed and laughed.

~0~

_**A/N: Now that you picked the fruits of my labor it would be nice if you took the time to tell me what they tasted like…But I thank you anyway. **_


	20. Götterdämmerung

_**Chapter 20  
**__**Götterdämmerung**_

People, this is it, it feels so good to be back  
Come along follow me as I lead through the darkness  
As I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed  
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength  
Come with me and I won't steer you wrong  
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog  
To the light at the end of the tunnel  
We gonna' fight, we gonna' charge, we gonna' stomp, we gonna' march  
Through the swamp, we gonna' mosh through the marsh  
Take us right through the doors, c'mon  
All the people up top on the side and the middle  
Come together lets all bomb and swamp just a little  
Just let it gradually build from the front to the back  
All you can see is a sea of people some white and some black  
Don't matter what color, all that matters we gathered together  
To celebrate for the same cause don't matter the weather  
If it rains let it rain, yeah the wetter the better  
They ain't gonna' stop us they can't, we stronger now more than ever  
They tell us no we say yeah, they tell us stop we say go  
Rebel with a rebel yell, raise hell, we gonna' let' em know

_-"Mosh", Eminem_

~0~

It continued. Everywhere it continued. The day could only last so long; its death, long drawn out was finally culminating. Its last breathes, rattling, cantankerous noises could be heard. The era was going, going finally. 'Good riddance', said some. 'What will happen now', asked others. 'Who gives a flying fuck' demanded a few and the really stoned ones looked up at the steel grey skies and proclaimed Judgment Day to be forthcoming, if not immediate.

But now, there were two that did none of these things. The medium-built, lithe man who was dark skinned and dark eyed and deadly dangerous because he was not only relentlessly ruthless, but coldly intelligent. His counterpoint was a tall glacier of a man, dressed mostly in white, his long blond tresses fell smoothly down his bared chest. He could have been a strange sort of Brahmin had there not been a brass-ornamented dagger, resplendent with intricate designs clasped to his waist with a leather holder. He stood, in the VIP room of Amazon Lily, before the massive replication of Dali's _The Persistence of Memory. _He stood, contemplating the painted insanity.

The darker man leaned forward, the cushions beneath him bending slightly to his weight and, elbows on knees, clasped his chin in linked hands. The tattoos on his hands gleamed darkly, and he mused softly in the stillness, before speaking.

"Have you ever paused, paused and observed the ground before rain?"

The magician didn't answer. Perhaps he considered himself above egotistical metaphors and pretty sentiments. Even his face did not give away his acknowledgement of the speaker, it remained cold and noble, the features of a king carved in stone. Large, pale hands fondled the deck of mystical cards with a lover's caress.

But the surgeon insisted. He drawled out softly the name of his companion, "My dear Mr. Hawkins Basil…"

"I am trying to concentrate on my cards, Trafalgar. Why are you such a damned pest?" Hawkins intoned, forehead wrinkling ever so slightly, a small blemish on the marble face. "Do you understand that this is the first time in _decades_ that these cards have refused to tell me what I wish to know?"

Law smiled, little warmth in the curves of his lips, "But my dear gentleman, surely there must have been some mistake in the reading….and this is a legitimate question I ask you, have you ever once watched the ground before rain and seen what the ants do? I had a grandfather who told the weather through the activities of these little creatures. The more they scurried the harder it rained."

"Why would I care what little, hapless invertebrates do Trafalgar?" Hawkins asked, disinterestedly, "I have no need of such primitive rituals. My cards see all, _I _see all."

"Playing God are we, Hawkins?" Law mused, voice the purest velvet, "Maybe you can tell me what that blonds' _real_ name was, eh?"

Hawkins turned abruptly from the surreal landscape and headed towards the VIP room's glass door, "Why does it matter to you what that young man's name was? If he didn't tell you then he doesn't want to tell you Trafalgar. Leave them alone, they're above you."

"That's what you always say."

"Kidd is coming back," the magician said softly, eyes cold.

"Mr. Eustass," Law said, smiling, dragging out the hated name with all the tenderness of a lover, "If he thinks he's still the alpha wolf around here then he's sorely mistaken. Redhaired _cunt_."

"I see you can't help scurrying around yourself," Hawkins said, cynicism all but drying his voice out until it was withered and dry, "Little ant."And with a rustle of white cloth, the taller man was gone. Off to his own personal voodoo.

Law laughed softly to himself and twirled the white, plush hat off his head so he could run one tattooed hand through the short, black crop. "Touché, magician. Touché."

~0~

The men swallowed nervously as the massive boots on the sturdy, suffering desk shifted slightly, making the desk creak in frustration. The smoke of countless cigars turned the small room oppressively cloudy, the carcinogens all but suffocating the lungs of the men and knocking them closer and closer to the big C. Cancer, unholy bitch.

This was the Don's hide-out, the back room of some greasy, dubious Italian diner in which the cooks just so happened to cook crystal meth on their spare time. The room was small and it seemed as if the Don never had left it and so had had it built around him. He was a big man, was the Don.

"Pearl," the Don grunted, dragging his growl out so that Pearl knew how deep in the motherfucking _shit_he was, "Pearl, what the _hell_ do you mean you haven't been able to make one measly subordinate crack?"

The man he was addressing was sweating nervously, his thin face topped with black hair slicked back with so much grease that it could have been classified as a flammable good, was a remarkable contrast to the massive barrel chest the man sported from underneath a loud and jarring plaid sport jacket. His voice was as oily as his hair, "Don…we've been doing it right for the last months. No one knows where he is, and Osvaldo, Enxil, and Marini were attacked by the guy he was with—some nobody."

"Some _nobody_," the other man said, ugly face screwing up, the veins throbbing unmercifully beneath the white bandage wrapped around his forehead, "Some _nobody_, but he beat the living shit out of three of my guys. I don't need weaklings in my men—understand Pearl?"

"Of course not Don Krieg," Pearl simpered, his kowtowing obvious to everyone except the Don, "They were just three idiots, _we_ don't need them."

"Good," Don Krieg said, thick lips turning down pugnaciously, "But I want Gin taken care of. I can't let others think that I can't handle one high school dropout. Take him out Pearl, take him out."

"Yes, Don."

"He's a traitor, a filthy traitor—" The Don spat, one hand running thick, meaty fingers over the massive gold rings, encrusted with diamonds that crowned his right hand. "If I had him here, in my grip—"

The clusters of men in the far corners of the room huddled closer and turned their backs on the Don, their faces crowded with apprehensions. One man, his ponytail bobbing looked nervously at the others while the Don roared and rumbled behind them—an impotent beast, a castrated king.

"It's not the same since Gin left, he was the Don's right hand and now lookit," he whispered, jerking a thumb subtly behind him. "We've got nothing left. He's nothin', _we're_ nothin'. I'm sick of this shit, time we get out asses out and do somethin' 'bout it, eh?"

One turned enflamed eyes on the companion who spoke, "See how he talks 'bout crashing Gin's face in? Gin was his best fuckin' man, the most fuckin' loyal, the one who actually gave a flyin' fuck and fuckin' looked up to him—but in the end he's fuckin' nothin'—less than the fuckin' shit on the fuckin' _street_ if he's not strong 'nuff. What's gonna' fuckin' happen to _us_ if we can't do shit?"

Murmurs, angry exclamations.

"Damn," hissed the one who had spoken first, "If Gin was here, he'd know what was goin' down. Gin would know, mark my fucking words. Everyone else knows the way the shit's going down except us 'coz the Don don't want us to do nothin' but kill the most loyal guy in the gang. It ain't right. Let me tell you, it ain't right."

"Nothin's right, foo'," said another, eyes downcast as he chewed worryingly at his lower lip, "Is anyone else thinking of putting an egg in their shoe and beatin' it—I don't know, maybe Blackbeard or one of the Rookies would like a hardened gang member, what'dya guys think? The Don's nuthin' anymore—we can't go on like this, g's."

There was a tense silence as mutiny, for the first time, was contemplated, and then suddenly, they're treading shaky ground, unsafe ground, ground which is crumbling and falling away from beneath they're searching toes.

"Damn," grumbled one, turning around shakily to glance over his shoulder, "Damn, I wish Gin was here."

~0~

He walked cautiously into the area, not needing the orange jack-o-lantern glow of the streetlights in order to pad his way noiselessly through the plaza and reach the cast-iron stairway which spiraled up dizzyingly to the fifth and sixth floors of the North Blue Apartments.

The night did not need to be a curtain; those who walked in it did not have to be criminals.

The rain had long since soaked him to the skin and his clothes had melted into his body; he had forgotten them, his mind intent on the dark doorways and cold windows with the dirty, off-white blinds drawn shut. Doors and windows from which unwelcome eyes could be watching him, marking his passage. The black bandana covered his green hair and his hand settled over his eyes, keeping the rain from dripping down his face and keeping the eyes from recognizing his features.

He could have walked through these buildings blind, so well did he know them. Robin had been one of the closest friends he had ever had. Perhaps, if times had been different and situations less strange he would have ended up married to her. They had gotten on well enough of. They could have fallen in love eventually, given enough time.

But now here he was, ten o' clock at night, anxiety on his brow, trepidation in his heart, and a deep-rooted anger that he should be here at all. What kind of world had humans created that virginities were lost to hatred and pain and where the distinctions between good and bad had blurred beyond distinction forever? What kind of world was it that human beings were moved around like chess pieces?

That wasn't his problem though. And he probably didn't give a fuck about it. His problem was his friends, his lover, and his dreams.

Zoro slowed as he reached apartment number 2057 and his hand reached out, his thumb pressing into the small, white button at the edge. Robin still hadn't answered any of his texts or calls—where the hell was she? She was usually the most punctual and responsible of women. The first feelers of misgivings had come almost as soon as she hadn't responded quickly, simply because her very nature was such that Zoro had gotten used to her timeliness.

The doorbell buzzed and buzzed.

_Damn, not here? _

He hammered it with the ball of his thumb, shoving the smooth white disk as deep into the wall as he could. The doorbell buzzed and buzzed; it sounded uncomfortably insectile. Only too easy to imagine that the sound was not the doorbell but the harangue of millions upon millions of flies which had settled on the bloated and long dead body of one of his greatest friends. Courtesy of Cipher Pol Number Nine.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, legs shifting back and forth like a kid waiting for the stall to open and the toilet to be free.

Nothing. It buzzed and buzzed unceasingly. There was no one home. Yet there _had_ to be. This was Robin's home—the place where it had all begun, the place where this entire story had been born. Robin would be lying on her small bed, pen in hand, powder-blue eyes narrowed in concentration as she carefully and neatly inked out a statistical problem—oblivious to the noise of the doorbell, or perhaps just disregardful of it. There was no other place where she could be.

Zoro jammed his thumb hard into the button, the lines of his hands sweating in trepidation. He knocked hard on the door, the knuckles smarting with the force of the hammering. He tried not to shiver slightly, tried to stop the coldness from descending upon his scrotum, tried to stop the balls from recoiling in apprehension.

"_Robin! Ms. Nico! Olivia!" _He called out stiffly, rapping on the cheap green colored door, trying in vain to peer through the tiny peep-eye in the middle, "_It's me—Zoro!" _Perhaps Robin's mother would answer the door—a beautiful, silver haired woman who had passed onto her only daughter her powder blue eyes and her sharp intelligence. He rapped on the door in desperation, "_It's me! Zoro! Robin!" _

He might as well have been rapping on the lid of a coffin. There was no answer, and only then did he realize that there was going to _be_ no answer.

Zoro's hand dropped to the doorknob and twisted it. Zero resistance. Maybe Robin was out—maybe that was all there was to it. She had gone out with Franky and her mother was probably roaming in the nearby university's library. That was all there was to it.

_She would answer my calls._

And on the heels of that—

_She would have called me. To make sure I was fine. _

And on the heels of _that_—

_Cipher Pol Number Nine. Friends first to ensure cooperation .Serving the community since nineteen thirty eight. _

"Mr. Roronoa?" A voice called out, slightly disconcerted and highly nervous.

He turned sharply, ready for anything, hand dipping impotently to his waist—searching for swords which he wasn't wearing. Heart, already thumping heavily, increased its war beat.

The first thought he had was fleeting and horrified—_Kuina, holy shit, she's alive. Raised from the dead. Like Lazarus. Resurrected. _His heart lurched painfully and he stepped back involuntarily, unable to explain the apparition which had appeared so suddenly in the shadows. Kuina, pretty, darkhaired love of his childish self. Dead for more than a decade.

But his steel control reasserted itself in seconds and forced him to look the young woman over, refusing the yammering of his startled heart. No, not Kuina. That was impossible, after all. Kuina was dead, _had _been dead a long, long time. She was lying in the Thriller Bark Cemetery this very second, forever trapped in her child's body, her hands clasped gently—not around a beautiful bouquet of pale chrysanthemums—but around the deadly, streamlined handle of a _katana. _Not her favorite, Wado Ichimonji, that sword belonged to him now, but around her father's cherished heirloom.

This woman who was walking towards him, wearing the dark blue uniform of the Grand Line PD, her Glock sidearm settled snugly at her hip, was the woman Kuina would have grown up to be if she had lived. If he had believed in reincarnation, he would have believed that he had met Kuina in her other life.

"Mr. Roronoa?" The young woman asked—she could have been no more than twenty-five and looked five years younger—"Are you Zoro Roronoa sir?" Her hand was on the butt of her weapon, the other on the small black, crackling box of her walkie-talkie.

"Y—yeah," he said, his back pressing up against the door, "Why? Who are you? What do you want?" Suspicion fought with the sense of wonder creeping up in him at the way her eyes—dark and wide—the way her hair—short cropped and black—resembled Kuina so greatly. The slant of her cheekbones, the small but determined chin, the thin lips which were nothing special but which had a peculiar charm. His eyes squinted in vain at the polished name tag above her right breast.

The young woman pressed the walkie-talkie's button and the static crackled out in the stillness, "Captain. Romeo has been located. At Juliet's residence."

Before Zoro had a chance to contemplate that cryptic sentence, Smoker's voice rang out of the small, black box, slightly distorted from the static, but still gruff and rougher than sandpaper, "_Ten-four. Perfect, Sergeant. Inform Romeo of Juliet's departure to the family of Montague. Ten-three. I repeat, ten-three."_

The black-haired woman nodded vigorously and Zoro had the boorish urge to inform the young Sergeant that her Captain could not see her and that she was wasting her time. The young cop looked back at him, mouth set, "Sir? Mr. Roronoa? Would you come with me? My Captain wishes for me to inform you of the whereabouts of _Juliet_." She spoke slowly, with emphasis. It was obvious that she distrusted him and had already stereotyped him as a Water 7 gang member, one of a pitifully low I.Q and a penchant for misogyny.

He wasn't stupid._ Juliet_ was obviously Robin, and he was _Romeo_. It was a code. Smoker was taking no risks; the grey-haired captain was playing his cards close to his burly chest, refusing to gamble even for the most pitiful of stakes. But that didn't answer his question and, in fact, raised even more.

_So where the hell is Robin?_

He stood his ground, "Where is she? And who are you? Let's see some ID—"

The words were no sooner out of his mouth then the young woman was flapping a badge at him. It was clear that she was new on the force and determined to do everything perfect the first time. He wouldn't be surprised if she thanked him for reminding her.

"My name is Tashigi Espada, Sergeant Major of the Grand Line Police Department, former Sergeant Major of the Lougetown Police Department, both times under the orders of Captain Codriano Fumador, commonly known as Captain 'Smoker'," she barked crisply, flashing her ID with a quick snap of her wrist, "And I ask you to come with me before I disclose information."

He unglued himself from the door and stepped closer, "Where?" He kept his distance, kept his hands in the clear, noting the trigger-happy tension of the young officer and the way her eyes flicked to and fro, measuring the environment, measuring him, seeing her knowledge of the facts that he outweighed her by at least forty pounds and a few inches and the nearby apartments were dark and gloomy, looking absolutely devoid of friendly help if things got ugly and he decided that he liked her gun so much that he wanted it for himself.

She pointed to the apartment across the level, separated by a large gap in the middle of the building, "That's where we've been for a week or so, Sir. I was on surveillance when you showed up." She turned and beckoned him, her long legs eating up the ground easily as she hurried around the building's side to the other apartment.

The apartment, which opened easily with a twist of Sergeant Tashigi's wrist, was furnished sparsely. A table, a chair, a few groceries littered a spotless counter. From what Zoro could see, the rest of the place was as empty as the living room. The only section of any activity was next to the door, where a window was located and where it seemed Tashigi had been recording activity through a large, wide-lens camera set up on a complicated tripod. Newspapers, coffee cups, and fast-food wrappers were littered around the tripod.

"The PD only rented this unit for surveillance purposes," the Sergeant said, motioning him to sit in the only chair, "The Captain was particularly concerned with the Nicos. And with reason—"Sergeant Tashigi jerked her thumb in the direction of the window which faced Robin's apartment, "Your friend was arrested earlier this morning by Detective Lucchi."

The blow was harsh and he let out a small grunt of surprise. Felt the blood drain from his face and limbs and then resurge mightily throughout. So that was the first move the other man had made in what seemed was going to be a long and bloodthirsty game of chess. The cold bastard had surged forward and captured his once lover, his good friend, Robin Nico.

"What—what was the excuse?" Zoro asked softly, feeling an irrevocable coldness envelop him. It was the silence of boiling, burning fury. Robin had done nothing wrong; her only crime had been to be born on the wrong side of a wall, to be born to the wrong people.

"It's not really an arrest," Tashigi said, frowning. Zoro could see that she was clearly ruffled by the breach of justice and protocol of her colleague, and was embarrassed to have to speak of it, "But Robin Nico is for all purposes incarcerated, no matter what it's called. She's not arrested or accused, but she's housed in a pre-trial detention facility in order to assure her safety and her ability to testify in trial against four defendants."

"_Four_ defendants?" He picked up a newspaper and turned it over. It was Ace's story, and he dropped it again and looked back up at the young officer.

The woman was looking nervous. She had an easy face to read and for that reason alone, Zoro trusted that she was speaking the truth. Her face was slightly nervous and defiant, her teeth chewing at her upper lip. The Sergeant was worried about the wisdom of providing confidential information to an unknown, to a gang member, to a man who wore scuffed shoes and a beat up hoodie and who had three piercings in his ear. But she was also outraged by the actions of the agent of Cipher Pol and embarrassed at the way her side was handling the situation.

It took her only a few more seconds to capitulate. Tashigi stopped chewing her lip and half-blurted out, "Captain Smoker said I could tell you so I'm going to! Nico has been 'taken into custody' so that her safety and presence can be ensured for the upcoming trial of Marshall D. Teach, Portgas D. Ace, Iceberg Thomas, and Olivia Nico."

Each name was another death knell. Blackbeard and Ace, though expected were still salt in fresh wounds. But Iceberg? Her own mother? How far gone was Lucchi? How fucking insane? Would he stoop to turn blood against blood, mother against daughter, friend against friend? However sick and malnourished Water 7 had been before, whatever Lucchi was planning was a million times more atrocious. This was no way to clean up a place.

Zoro shook his head and said, voice terse with apprehension and mounting anger held in check, "Iceberg? Her mother—Olivia? What the hell did those two do that Lucchi's accusing them? How the hell do you think Robin will testify against them? Eh?" He nailed the dark eyes of the Sergeant with his own, willing her to tell him everything she knew.

Sergeant Tashigi buckled under his gaze and he respected the morality and integrity of her character, part of him was grateful at the reassurance that not all justice was corrupt beyond redemption, but the majority of his soul was intent on the situation. "What happened?" he urged.

"Well," Tashigi said, frowning, "Again, this is completely unauthorized, telling you _anything_ is strictly against protocol—I can lose my job, my ranking, any chance to serve the force again—Even with Captain Smoker's protection."

"Then why did you start telling me?"

Her frown deepened, "Because—Because I can't stand it! Agent Roberto Lucchi is a shame to the Grand Line PD! Him and his unit are completely out of line! They've broken almost every single unspoken rule of a true officer! I can't stand it!" she huffed, refusing to meet his eyes and instead glaring angrily out the window. "Captain Smoker says that you guys can do more than us since we're outside and you're inside…" She trailed off.

Zoro nodded, "Your Captain's right. Trust him."

The sergeant nodded back, "It's the only thing I can do at this point…So listen up. I'm only going to go through this once. Earlier this day Lucchi showed up with his entire unit in order to arrest Robin Nico and her mother Olivia Nico. However, it seems that only the former was present. I attempted to interfere," she pointed through the window, "when I saw them, however there was nothing I could do as they had completely legal warrants to take Robin Nico into custody. They were presented to me by one Captain Spandam who was with him. Olivia Nico's whereabouts are still unknown from what my contacts at the municipal hall and Impel Down Detention Center and Prison tell me."

Zoro nodded, letting the information seep through him. So Robin had not been arrested on some trumped up charges. She was still relatively safe. But her mother? Why was her mother being accused? Was this Lucchi's way of coercing Robin into cooperation? But then the bastard had it all wrong. Shouldn't it be Robin who was supposed to be left free while her mother was taken? What was the bastard planning?

Unless…

He closed his eyes tightly, remembering. Olivia Nico's face floated in the back of his mind. Eyes and nose like Robin's, intelligent and beautiful. Hair so blond it was a platinum silver. Her skin, a shade lighter than her daughter's. He had only chatted with her a few times since it seemed that Robin's mother was never home. Robin would always be quietly informing him when he was over that her mother had gone on business trips which would last a few days, a week or two, a month.

_Bullshit…_

Business trips? What single parent left her minor unprotected and uncared for while they went on business trips? His parents—though gone most of the time working—were always home at night unless they had to stay out of town once in a while. But…days upon days of business trips? What had Olivia Nico been up to?

_I knew…but I didn't want to know what the fucking details._

He groaned softly between his teeth. Robin had always been so closeted, so quiet, so secretive. He had taken it for granted. How could he have been so stupid to assume that she could have been above the danger? How could he have been so egotistical to assume that if there was going to be a target, it was going to be him?

"Olivia," he said and sighed.

Tashigi's eyes sharpened, "I assume you understand what Olivia Nico's been accused of?"

"Nope," he answered and barked a short, humorless laugh. It all seemed so clear now. "I was fucking stupid. How could I not see that she was up to something? I've known her for years. And I never bothered to ask Robin, to find out."

"Olivia Nico has been wanted for a very long time now," Tashigi said softly, "She was deciphering government documents, cracking military codes and helping Socialist revolutionary forces in Latin America. She was trying to help the people overthrow the American-supported governments… She's a major criminal in the South. Who knew she was hidden, with a daughter, here in Grand Line?"

It didn't sound that bad to him, but the grave manner with which the Sergeant delivered the news was enough to convince him that Robin's mother and Robin herself had landed in one great vat of shit. Socialist Revolutionary? It sounded straight out of a McCarthy report, straight out of the fucking Cold War. It had nothing to do with him.

He dug his knuckles into the sockets of his eyes, remembering Olivia Nico. A beautiful, slim women with Robin's eyes, Robin's voice. He had only seen her a few times in his long history of being Robin's friend. Had never thought twice about the platinum blond which sometimes opened the door to let him inside.

"This is Lucchi," he said, instead. And got up.

"Clearly," the sergeant said, "Where are you going?"

He cracked his neck and slipped the bandana from off his thick bicep and pulled it over his head, letting it shadow his eyes, "Where? First I'm going home and passing out. Tomorrow? I'm going to see my friend at Impel Down Detention Center and God help them if they try to stop me."

Zoro stalked out, ignoring the Sergeant's cries to wait and explain himself.

"_Wait! Captain Smoker_ told me to tell you that—"

He closed the door soundlessly on her voice and closed his eyes briefly before he walked off.

"That Lucchi's moving, eh?"

He had known that since he had seen the pale, solemn, judge's face in his hospital room. There was no need for that generic warning. It was starting, shit, how it was starting. The first drops of the pregnant clouds, the first rumbles of the lightning. The slow thumps of his heart as he walked off the deep end and into the eye of the abyss.

~0~

The house was dark, silent. Only a small lamp, most likely left out for him, cast its brave, electric light across the table and left the corners of the room seeped in shadows. A plate of food, covered in cellophane, was on the counter, no note.

Zoro loosened the wrap and stuck the plate in the microwave, mind already numb. He felt like he had just been placed in the world's nastiest washing machine and spun around and around, beat and drained until he felt thinner than paper. He was filling up a large glass with water from the fridge when he felt the hand trace down his spine, a stroking caress, utterly maternal.

"Zoro…I never see you anymore."

Mother. A tired, wan looking woman who had given him his wide arching eyebrows and tanned skin. The crow's feet around her brown eyes had increased. A whole flock had passed there since he had seen her last. He had seen her yesterday, only a moment's glimpse and hello, but it had been long since he had _really _seen her.

"Sorry ma, I'm out so much, with friends. You and dad are working."

She nodded and motioned for him to sit and enjoy his food and Zoro complied. They sat down at the table and Zoro dug in, not minding the soft hand which sometimes wandered to his bent head or to his hand on the table.

"Zoro…I read the newspaper this morning. About Ace."

"Hmm. Pack of lies. They're just trying to get him off the streets." He didn't need to clarify. She had been here long before him.

"I know. I've known Ace since you first brought him here to play basketball in the back. And that's why me and your father have been talking," his mom said, and hesitated, "You're graduating soon."

"Yeah."

"We were thinking of moving as soon as you finish school. We're looking at a few houses in Drum. You remember Drum?" She looked at him pointedly, a little apprehension clouded her eyes. Beautiful, almond-shaped eyes.

He didn't stop eating, "Leaving Water 7?"

"We think there's too much trouble here," she answered, sighing, "Too many gangs, too much violence. We thank God that you haven't done anything and kept yourself in one piece until now, though you _have _gotten into trouble now and then…but we want to leave all the same."

"It's a good idea," Zoro said bluntly.

"Yes, I'm glad you agree," his mother said, looking relieved, "And we were wondering if you'd want to come with or stay here. I know you're eighteen and will probably want to stay here with your friends…but—"

"I'll stay at Usopp's."

Her face fell. "Zoro—_think _about it."

He smiled at her. "Don't get me wrong ma. I think it's great that you guys want to get out of here and I think you and dad should buy a nice house in Drum and enjoy the snow. But my whole life is here; I can't leave."

She fought him and though he was dead-tired, exhausted to the point of collapse, Zoro let her talk herself out. Allowed her to exercise that indomitable will which he had inherited and let her be the mother that time and work had never allowed her to be. He listened and nodded and tried to not look like he was thinking of his bed and sleep and the coming advent of the sandman.

Tried not to think of what the next day would bring. What horrors, what surprises, what nasty vomit the next day would regurgitate. How he wished that he had his three swords. Or at least two. The time was coming when the city would live by the drawn steel and he didn't want to be unprepared.

He supposed he could find a nice, small Colt. A gun which would fit snugly in his coat's pocket. But he had never been a gun man. They placed too much dependence on the weapon. Deprived of a gun, the man was usually no better than his weakest punch. He could handle a pistol—of course, couldn't they all—but when things got down, he preferred the solid hilt of a sword.

Just another sword. It's cutting edge. It's unforgiving blasphemy.

~0~

Around the time that Zoro was skipping school in order to visit his incarcerated friend; two men, immensely tall and fiercely muscled were taking in the sun at a large pool's edge. Loud, tropical shirts and board shorts were their attire; murder and cozening was their business.

"Arlong, brother, what do you think of these new upstarts?"

Kurobi glanced at the large man reclining luxuriously on an immense white lawn chair as he sipped from a can of Coors, "I think they're like the rest of the idiots, brother. Stupid little idiots. Their inferiority is obvious—they are unable to make peace even amongst themselves. Therein lays the very proof of the pollution of their weak and impure race." Arlong stretched out long legs and crunched the Coors can in his large hand.

Kurobi nodded in agreement, crossing thick, burly arms across his broad torso, covered in tattoos, "It is impossible to determine the blood which flows through their veins, Arlong. Unlike a Gyojin."

"They're all the same," Arlong said smugly, his naturally harsh voice was emphasized by the coarse, native tongue of the Gyojin in which they were speaking. While the Gyojin who had immigrated to America a long time ago had been forced to learn English in order to compete in the underworld, the members of Arlong's sect still disdainfully refused to speak in the country's language when it was unnecessary. They reverted instead, to their native tongue.

Insanely, catastrophically proud, the Gyojin were. A small but potent group which refused membership of all but those who carried the sacred blood of the sun god Fisher Tiger in their veins and who swore allegiance to the tribal leader. Their members were interrelated and the intricacies and interrelations of the blood which they cherished had contributed to the unique physical appearance of the Gyojin.

Long ago, Zoro had explained it to Sanji and the cook had listened, face serious, disgusted at the racial doctrine by which the Gyojin lived, yet understanding the reasons why the Gyojin had developed such an extreme hatred of all other races except their own chosen one. It was possible to determine a Gyojin upon first sight.

'_There's two kinds' _Zoro had explained to the listening blond, stressing the last word to show his skepticism, '_It's a big deal to the Gyojin themselves though I never understood it. The first kind—they just call the Gyojin. Like the overall race—" _

They were robust and strong, easily reaching six and a half to seven feet; the women usually a bit smaller—six feet. The Gyojin prided themselves on the slabs of muscle and thick trunks of legs with which they were endowed.

"—_the reason they're all like that is because they keep to themselves, intermarrying, you know? No one's allowed to marry outside the race. It's law. They hate everyone else that isn't a Gyojin. Most of the them." _

Sanji had looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, "_But why? What the hell did the world do to them?" _

The greenhaired man had shrugged, "_Well, this girl who I helped, a long time ago, told me about it. They're really secretive and stuff, and I probably wouldn't know as much I do about them, but this girl—her name was Caime—told me a bunch of shit since I beat up some guys who were bothering her. It seems—" _

The Gyojin had immigrated to America sometime in the years following the Second World War. Their home island, a small tropical atoll somewhere in the Pacific had become a naval base and the soldiers had nearly destroyed the autonomy and environment of the tribally governed Gyojin. Though it had just been the last straw on the long-suffering camel's back. The atoll had been passed from power to power, none which had ever respected the independence of the Gyojin people. Many had fled to America to escape the injustices and had settled in ethnically established ghettos on the Pacific coast. They carried the seeds of hatred for the 'foreigner' with them.

"_And then they call the others, "Ningyo"_ _which means 'mermaid'_. _And they're not tall or strong or anything like that, but they're either really beautiful or really handsome. You can tell just by looking at them. The Gyojin guard them viciously. They kill anybody who messes with them. It goes back to the abuses the women and men suffered because of their beauty throughout the long occupation of their island by different countries. Sad history." _Zoro had turned to the cook, "_Let's talk about something else." _

But to the Gyojin, they could _think_ of nothing else. Kurobi glanced at Arlong, a man who was nearly eight feet, a direct result of his heritage, "Brother, should we offer Lucchi an amount of money to keep him away? It'd be better to ride out this storm. A million or so would keep him happy, I'm sure."

"Wrong, Kurobi," another man answered smoothly as he walked out of the house, sliding the patio doors shut after him, "Our brother already attempted to sway that man to our side but it seems that this puny bastard is not attracted by the smell of fresh dollar bills." Chu handed Arlong a fresh beer and took one for himself and leaned against one of the patio's pillars. He was nearly six-nine.

"Right, Chu, right," Arlong said, his tone regretful, "Whereas Nezumi was quite reasonable for a non-Gyojin, and accepted our dirty money; Lucchi is not as intelligent. He'll have to be done away with, as much as I bewail it." The reptile gleam in his eyes and the feral sneer of his lips was enough to render his gentle words void and null.

"Of course Arlong, brother, leader," Chu said daintily, his jutting lips puckered, "It'll be for the greater good of all. I'm sure we'll be heroes. Fancy that. _Chu_."

"This is the first time in years that we are close to our objective—a complete and total monopoly of the underworld by us, the Gyojin!" Arlong said, his wide grin showcasing teeth which were too sharp and pointy to be natural. It was clear that the man himself had filed them to cutting edges. "Before this, we had only a few hundred under our command, but now—today I received the confirmation of Van der Decken, Hodie Jones and Madame Shirley, brothers."

Kurobi clapped his meaty hands together and allowed for a grim smile to appear on his blunt face, "Well, well, well! It seems that they grew some balls after all and decided to make the voyage. How many are they bringing?"

Arlong laughed, "Five hundred brothers and sisters. I'll need Disco for this. Call him. Offer him two hundred thousand per head. "

"That'll be ten million Arlong," Chu said, ticking his fingers, "And Disco will probably demand that we give him a few of our _Ningyo_ to sell on that vile human slave market of his. Or he'll claim that they _vanished_ throughout the sea voyage. I don't trust him." [1]

"Tell him that if there's _one_, just _one_, Ningyo or Gyojin, missing from the headcount—then he can kiss his ass goodbye," Arlong growled, "And tell him that it is not a request from me—it is an order."

"Are you sure about that, Arlong," Chu asked, frowning, "Disco works under Don Quixote. Big fish. _Chu._"

Arlong laughed, "Don Quixote wouldn't piss for that little creep if Disco was on fire and screaming for someone to put him out. Don Quixote sides with the strong, always. And between Disco and the race of the Gyojin—the choice is obvious. Especially if we are at the dusk of a new era. The era of the Gyojin. "

"What's that Arlong," a voice called out, puzzled and the large man turned slightly.

"Oh, Little Eight, where have you been? I was just discussing with Chu and Kurobi the nature of our rising star," Arlong grunted, raising one enormous hand to salute the heavens. "Fisher Tiger watches over us, brothers."

The newcomer—who had walked in through the yard's small gate—smiled, "Oh, of course Arlong! The Gyojin are the best, the most superior! Of course!"

"Hachi," Kurobi said, turning to him, "Our brother, Arlong, just received news that our brothers from our home will soon join us—Hodie Jones, Madame Shirley, and Van der Decken the tenth to name a few. Five hundred strong."

"_Ohhh!_" Hachi exclaimed, mouth puckering into a perfect 'o', "That'll make us one of the biggest gangs here in Los Angeles! What luck!"

Arlong smiled and popped open another beer, "Exactly Little Eight. I'm thinking that it's time to speak with Jimbei. Before now, we had little communication as Jimbei works for the Filthy Ones. But he is still a Gyojin and a powerful man to have on our side. Perhaps he will be willing to forsake his Warlord title and join his brothers in our struggle—what think you, Chu?"

"Excellent idea brother," Chu said, flicking a blond strand out of his eyes, "Jimbei will be insane not to side with us. Not only are we blood, but we will soon be a formidable force."

"The moment our brothers arrive on this shore, and the moment everyone begins to fight amongst themselves, I ask your permission, brother—" Kurobi bowed his head, "To kill that man."

"Still remember, eh Kurobi?" Arlong asked genially, "Never forget a face, eh? Still hold your grudge against Sanji Blackleg? Your little classmate, eh?"

"Nami was our little thief for years," Kurobi grunted, "She was one non-Gyojin which we could stand, a proud member of the Arlong gang since she was ten years old. She grew up with us—only to betray us when her father managed to get a good job and move out of Water 7 with the help of Sanji Blackleg. She was the best manipulator we could hope her—a stone hearted bitch. We had great plans for her, brother."

"I know, I know," Arlong said, raising a hand in acquiescence, "I still miss my little Nami, a precious cat she was among the rat race." He grinned, "And yet you wish to take her man's life."

The other Gyojin clenched his fist angrily, "If I had been better informed of his abilities…I was taken by the element of surprise—I was not expecting him to even _know_ how to fight—"

"But next time—you'll kill him, am I right?" Chu asked silkily.

Kurobi nodded, the muscles in his neck standing out in cold, boiling vengeance.

"You have my blessing, brother," Arlong said indulgently, "And if you are true, then the Sun God, Fisher Tiger will bless your murder as well."

~0~

"What did you say?" the blond said, smirking into the phone, his abnormally long, pink tongue dangling from between strong, white teeth, "Arlong is threatening you, _Disco_, my dear?" He lifted a jeweled hand to raise a champagne glass filled with some fruity cocktail. "Why the animosity for that fishman?"

He paused, listening to the fevered voice on the other side of the line. Nodding and grinning devilishly all the time. His bare chest glistened with coconut oil as he sipped from his alcoholic beverage, "Hmm…I see…right….of course Disco-dear. He's threatening you…of course. I see. He wants you to ship over some five hundred fish, eh? And all you did was ask for some of them. Hmm-hmm."

His tongue wagged obscenely at the phone's tiny speakers, "What am I going to do about his insolence? Am I going to vindicate you? No, of course not Disco-dear." Don Quixote barked laughter, paused to run a hand through his short yellow fuzz and ruffle the pink flamingo feathers of his seat cover. "Smiling, Disco, _smiling!_ Smiles are our business, idiot. We put great, big smiles on our client's faces. And why should you not put a smile on dear Arlong's beautiful face? Let him bring in all those Gyojin. Let him bring them, add fuel to the fire."

Don Quixote's own smile flashed out and he made an obscene gesture to the cellular in his hand for the benefit of his companion, "Yes Disco, you heard he right. Now, go appease our Arlong, will you? Goodbye." And the blond cut the call.

"Ahhh…how idiotic some people are!" He exclaimed, stretching out on his chair which faced the beach, "To interrupt me on my Hawaii vacation about some meaningless trite! Oh, my dear Juraquille, I have it the worst off of all the Warlords." He glanced at the other man.

Mihawk didn't bat an eyelid, "What did he want?" He was fully dressed in his coat and baggy pants encased in boots from the knee down. His large French officer hat shadowed his yellow eyes. He was a surreal character in the tropical environment.

"Oh, the usual," Don Quixote said, shrugging bare shoulders, "He wanted me to stroke his bruised ego, pick him up and kiss his boo-boo. Arlong wants to ship in five hundred illegal immigrants from his native island of Gyojin and wants Disco to do it. Disco, naturally, refused when he was told he couldn't snatch a few beauties as his reward."

"And yet you told him to do it," Mihawk said, face blank.

"Of course, my beautiful-eyed one!" The blond exclaimed and stuck his long tongue out, "The more come, the better! Let that city burn to the ground! Let them fight until the last man! Let Lucchi begin his mass genocide! Let justice prevail!"

"What a strange and bizarre view you have of justice," Mihawk said coldly, crossing his booted leg and leaning casually on one of the patio's pillars.

"My dear Juraquille," Don Quixote smirked, "I'm sure you know who Napoleon is? Isn't he one of your country's heroes? Big French warlord? Well he once said—_God is on the side of the strongest battalion!_ And isn't that _beautiful_? And where do you think you're going?"

Mihawk turned, "I'm tired of your company. I came to visit you and now I have business to attend to." He left, coat swirling out behind him.

The blond smiled at the empty spot, "Returning, eh? Not me, Juraquille, not me! You wouldn't catch me in Water 7 in the next months for all the fun in the world. It's the asshole of the world." He paused, face suddenly pensive, "It's…just the place to be for a bastard like me."

~0~

He had never seen her so beautiful. Light blue eyes, raven hair, her mocha complexion and sharply bridged nose—features so refined, so infinitely precious to him. Robin Nico, intelligent and sophisticated, perversely elegant. The succubus of so many a man's fantasies. Once his lover, always his friend. The woman he would have risked it all for, gambled it all for, bet the best things of his life for, just to see her smile.

She was never so beautiful as she was then. Proud, elegantly arrogant in her dull grey state uniform, behind the plated glass.

Zoro licked his lips, his sluggish tongue futilely attempting to moisten the dry skin. The black plastic of the telephone threatened to overwhelm him. His own reflection overlapped hers faintly and the rising anger, long since fermented, began to drip sweet, crimson wine which was thirsty for vengeance.

"You look nice in grey," he said softly into the phone, eyes locked onto hers from his side of the unforgiving plate glass window.

She smiled, and her lips moved soundlessly, strangely disembodied from the purring voice in his ear, "Thank you Zoro. I was sure you'd come."

"I heard you took out three armed officers," he smirked, leaning back in his chair.

The rich chuckle in his ear sounded out. They could have been relaxing nonchalantly in white lawn chairs, passing an open beer can from hand to hand. "Oh please Zoro…Cipher Pol did not even let me take some necessities along. If they had been regular officers, I might have done something…"

She tilted her head slightly and shifted the phone to her other ear, "So…I assume you know everything. Why I am here…who I am…the kind of person I was born to…" Her face was smooth, unreadable. But then, it had always been unreadable, closed to the world. Only now, did Zoro understand why it had been so.

"I do," he said, "Can you tell?"

"Your eyes are different," she said, smiling slightly, "You look older. You must hate me now." So gentle the statement; her eyes were Mona Lisa's—mysterious, eyes which knew too much, which saw too far and too deep. "For not saying anything…for not letting you know that I could be the…weakest link."

He snorted, "Stop that. I didn't come here to hear your excuses or your justifications. So shut up, all right? We all have pasts we'd rather forget; we all have secrets and skeletons which hide in the closets. You're no different. Now…what I want to know is—when do they transfer you?"

"In—In a week," Robin said, brow furrowing sharply, "My lawyer said that I was going to Marijoa Penitentiary under federal jurisdiction up north, but why—Zoro, what are you planning? _Don't do anything reckless._" Panic was draining her face of color as she saw the quiet determination in his face. It made her look young and vulnerable.

But the fierce hope in her eyes; the desire so strong in those periwinkle irises, so strong that it was almost lust, flare out. Betrayed her secret, her egoism.

He leaned back in his chair, the phone cord barely allowing him too, "I'll find out the exact date from Smoker or his tomboy Sergeant. Be ready."

Robin's lips moved soundlessly and he smiled at the mixture of emotions conflicting in her face. There was nothing more to be said, and the security officers were casting suspicious eyes on his reclining, unnaturally relaxed posture. Zoro hung up the phone, nodded to Robin, and walked out.

~0~

"It would do well for you to remember your position, Boa, and to remember just where your fealty lies," the man said sharply, his moustache seeming to bristle with indignation. "I am standing in a veritable nest of vipers at this very moment. What nasty business are you pirating around under this roof? Prostitution? Cooking meth in the kitchens? Know that you the police and the government looks the other way when it comes to you because of the deal you struck with us. If you were to sway from your side of the deal—do not think that we will keep to ours!"

"My foolish darling…Sergeant Momonga…" Hancock kissed the tips the of her fingers and blew the kiss to the suited Sergeant from where she reclined majestically from a red, plush sofa in her office. "How presumptuous of you to assume that I would follow my end of the deal like a good citizen and follow you and yours blindly—"

"Are you saying—"

"I detest the government and all its affiliations, _true_," Hancock purred, flicking a piece of lint from her red dress and crossing one long leg so that the slit rode high up on her thigh. "And though I truly regret to not obey, darling, I cannot be bothered with your trivial problems. They are simply not glamorous enough for me."

"_Boa!_ Do you have any idea where Portgas D. Ace is? Or what the hell Blackbeard is thinking?" the Sergeant demanded, hand fisting tightly as his eyes fought to remain on the woman' eyes. To look anywhere else would damn him. Render him a speechless fool. Momonga swallowed thickly.

Hancock shrugged, letting her blouse slip off one creamy shoulder, "Don't raise your disgusting male voice at me! Why would I know where that little boy has hidden himself? Why would I know what that ugly ogre that calls itself a Warlord is thinking? Do you seriously expect that a woman as beautiful, as lovely, as _magnificent_ as me would be able to fathom an ape's mind?" She paused, "Unless you think I have him hidden here? That I am consorting with the enemy? Do you wish to search my place?"

"Excuse me, Boa, but I was not insinuating that you were giving Portgas asylum," Momonga said tightly, his eyes shifted around the large office, "Warlords know everything. That's the reason why we decided to work with them. I'm sure that you can find one hint, one whisper, of where Portgas is?"

"Perhaps. But I do not mean to try." Hancock smiled, and tucked a silky strand behind her ear. The large gold hoops, shaped like cobra's heads, jingled quietly. "I'd rather watch you squirm—like the rat does when caught in the viper's fangs."

"Listen well, Boa!" Momonga barked, his face red with anger, his moustache bristling with wrath¸"When Portgas is taken, Blackbeard will move against us. Chaos will erupt. It will be April 29 all over again, on an immense scale! We need your support. We need to be sure where your loyalty and where your interest lies! For the last time, are you with us—_or against us_?" [2]

"Go to hell," Hancock said, smiling. And leaning forward plucked a sealed envelope from the small table next to hers and slid it open, her long nails acting as letteropeners, "Get lost fool. I'm tired of looking at your pathetic face."

"I can see your intentions from your words Boa," Momonga said coldly, turning to leave, "Expect your Warlord status revoked within a week. You'll be reduced to nothing more than a common criminal."

"Oh—Momonga?"

The tall Sergeant paused at the door and turned, curtly, "What?"

"I have just been informed that your car has been stolen while you were here. What a pity."

~0~

On the outskirts of the Grand Line. In a dark and lonely neighborhood long known for the insidious rumors and legends surrounding it. The old, abandoned houses were haunted they said. A large Victorian style house, with trailing bougainvillea clinging from the rusty trellises and from the stakes of the old-fashioned fence, was the most haunted of all, according to the locales. They called it, _the Florian Triangle_. Why? Who knew. When the moon was new, they said that a beast's laughter could be heard floating out of its tightly sealed shutters.

No one saw anyone enter or exit the _Florian Triangle_. And so it was that the tall blond slipped inside the gloomy residence, escaping the notice of prying eyes. He made his way to the large ball room, located in the back of the mansion, following the shrill laughter of his boss.

"_Kish-shish-shish! Kish-shish-shish-ehhh? _Who's there!"

"It's me, Moria!" The blond called out, raising a hand, his eyes quickly adjusting to the shadowy gloom of the large ballroom whose only illumination was the weak, musty glow of an immense chandelier, covered with cobwebs, and which dangled like some metal cocoon from the high, vaulted ceilings. Large panes of glass and dark, Romanesque paintings covered the circular walls. A room from another era.

"Ah, Absalom, it's just you, old fellow." A rather large man, his immodest beer belly straining against the yellow plaid shorts he had chosen to cloth his lower body in, shifted comfortably in a massive bean bag. He was handsome, in a dark, macabre sort of way. "Why don't you come sit down with me, Dr. Hogback, and Perona? Perona was just telling me a nasty joke about vampires."

Absalom frowned, "Sir Moria, it's hardly a time to joke. Water 7's running insane. Warlords, Supernova, the old gangs…there's chaos."

"Not quite…chaos!" Gecko Moria exclaimed, holding up one long, thin, bony finger; as white as the blind spider's eyes. His shrill, scratchy voice resounded around the huge room, the angles taking his voice and amplifying it. The voice of someone dragging thick, hoary nails across a rusty chalkboard. "Not quite chaos, Absalom! Soon! Yes, soon!"

"Yes, chaos. Either now, or in a little, Sir Moria. The point is that we're going to be in trouble if we don't make ourselves known again. People might start to think that you've lost your touch," Absalom said, taking a biscuit from Perona's tea set platter and throwing himself into one of the armchairs.

"Forget me? _Kish-shi-shi! Kish-kish-kish-shi-shi!"_ Moria's belly shook with the force of the mirth and his long, pale neck wobbled, "Absalom—no one will forget me! I may be forever in the shadows, but in the end I will be the one who triumphs. We'll wait this one out. And then after—men wandering aimlessly about, without a leader, without any hope…I will emerge as a shining ray of hope!"

"But Sir Moria—"

"Oh, leave it alone Absalom!" Perona cut in, her voice annoyed, "This conversation isn't cute at all! Why don't you listen to Moria-dear?" She twirled her gaudy umbrella with her thin, delicate hands and adjusted the ornate crown on her bright pink hair with an ostentatious flutter of her eyelids, heavy with mascara. "We were right about to listen to what Dr. Hogback was telling us about how his work is going!"

"Ehhh…" Absalom shrugged, "What's that Hogback? Business going well?"

"_Pho-pho-pho-pho!" _Another man, who had been enjoying his cup of tea with Perona, nodded cheerfully. His sharp teeth, overshadowed by a ridiculously long and thin hawkish nose, winked out in the darkness. "Over eighty patients have _regretfully_ passed on to the realms of light and love these past few days."

"Eighty?" Absalom grunted, impressed, "Isn't that too many? You're going to be caught, Hogback."

"Not when the deaths are across the country!" Hogback squeaked, wagging a finger at the blond, "My men are to be trusted! There hasn't been one peep of suspicion! Except if you count the stupid questions that a little, inexperienced intern has been plaguing me with! Not one peep!" He puffed his chest in pride¸"And over one hundred thousand collected in various ways from these sorrowful deaths and invested in Moria's business!"

"How cute!" Perona gushed, hugging a teddy bear to her chest, "Poor things, they were all on the brink of death anyway! No great loss, Absalom! _Horo-horo-horo-horo!" _

"Good work, Hogback!" Moria said, grinning widely, "And when Water 7 has calmed down, there will be many more patients for us! Hiruluk Medical Center will be bursting at the seams! Happy hunting grounds!"

"Yes, Sir Moria," Hogback grinned back, the small flame of the candles dancing on the black surfaces of his glasses. "Which brings me back to what I wanted to ask of you…"

"Yes?"

"There's a stupid little intern at the hospital. He loves me to death but I can't shake him from my trail!" Hogback exclaimed, mouth turned down, "He's everywhere I go; wanting to know details of my medical prowess! He's going to stumble on something someday and cause my ruin! I need him to go."

Moria shrugged and sighed disinterestedly, "Ehh…why don't you just get him transferred to another hospital? Or better yet¸ fire him, dismiss him."

"Well…" the doctor hesitated, "He's…he carries the black."

"Blackbeard," Moria mused, and then burst into more peals of laughter, "Well then, Hogback! Just wait for a few more days. Those men are finished! If Lucchi doesn't eat them alive, then Teach himself will! And the rest of the Warlords and Supernova will gobble up the pieces!" He paused, "And if they don't eat it all, I'll finish up them myself."

~0~

Three days passed. Three days, each one tenser then the last, each one still and pregnant with apprehension.

And the last domino fell as the rain pelted the corrugated tin walls and roof of Franky's small workshop near the back of the demolished Galley-La apartments. The rain had swept the scent of smoke away by then, but had unearthed a ripe, sodden smell, less pleasing.

He walked in from somewhere, tired from making the rounds and seeing what was down, shoulders down, hands in pockets, sweater soaked from his walk here. His bike he had left at his house after he had picked it up from Luffy's place. Green hair hidden in the murky folds of the black bandana he had sworn his life to, insincerely.

The weight of the eyes hit him as soon as he walked in and he knew that it had come at last. Thirty, forty people grouped in such a small space. Trouble was brewing. Check. Trouble _had _brewed and the beer from that particular ale hadn't come out so tasty to these people. In fact, it looked like it had tasted like the urine of some scaled and clawed creature to ugly to be real.

Franky coughed loudly, thick, tattooed biceps crossed over his burly engineer's chest, covered in a loud Hawaiian shirt. The thick, gold chain around his neck which was as real as his driver's license, gleamed. "Bro…We barely heard from source in the PD—Jango."

Usopp's eyes on his. Cold and determined, scared. The ambiguity was frightening. His thick lips set underneath his Pinocchio nose.

Zoro made his way slowly to an empty armchair and settled in it, pausing only to crack his neck and roll his shoulders once, twice, thrice, to get the ache out of them. The burden of knowing too much, of desecration, of stunted hope. He stretched out his legs, crossed them at the ankles. A habit he had unconsciously picked up from Sanji.

They're all waiting for him, looking at him, searching for order. Why him? Because Blackbeard's a blackhearted prick and everyone knew it. Because Ace's gone and he's the next best thing. Because he's first mate on this strange and fucked up pirate ship in which they sail the blighted and abnormal waters of the Grand Line. All this and more. Because he knows how to take a hit and roll with the punches.

"It's over," Franky said starkly, and pushed the glasses up his nose so that Zoro saw his eyes through a blue haze, "Did you hear? Blackbeard's turned Ace in. He's struck a deal with Lucchi and invited all of us to follow him. Half have gone with him. The rest—We've been fucked. It's over. We're over. Robin, Ace. Now us."

_Ah. So that's it. _

Not surprise, just a lazy feeling of realization and comprehension. There was no mistake; Fate was not so kind. The grapevine was hardly wrong. Bad news traveled fast. A quiet settled on him, heavy and ominous.

He closed his eyes and nodded. Leaned back and wished for a beer, the reassuring hand of Sanji running through his hair and telling him that it wasn't okay, but that he could make it all right.

"Zoro," the sharpshooter said nervously, "Did you hear? Ace has been arrested by _Blackbeard_—Robin, she's _been—_"

"I heard Usopp," he said, refusing to open his eyes, "What's done is done."

Brooke, somewhere. Voice, warbled, oddly gentle, "Zoro—"

"I _heard_, Brooke, let me think."

Searching for an answer, searching for a way, a path, a signpost in the depths of the abyss. Murphy's Law was the only justice here. If the worst was possible, then it was sure to come. If only he had one inkling of knowing what to do. The murmurs and soft talk of the people in the workshop were soothing. Minutes passed like eras.

Someone neared, "Err, Zoro?"

He grunted, letting Paulie know he heard. Knowing it was the shy blond from the smell of fresh rope which always seemed to permeate the other man and from the whiff of cigarette smoke. The scent of creaking oil.

"Gin came looking for you yesterday and talked to me. He said Luffy sent him so I let him be. Dropped something off for you. I didn't have a chance to tell you before."

Zoro opened his eyes to see Paulie holding a long package, wrapped in what looked like sheets and he held his hands out wordlessly, curious. What Gin, fallen Krieg member, would want to give him was a mystery. But he desisted a moment, looking at Paulie's face. The practicing mechanic's eyes were red-rimmed and stony. His face, grim. Of course. Paulie, Iceberg's protégé. The attack on Galley-La must have wounded him to the quick.

But he didn't say anything. And the moment he held his hand out and he gripped, he knew. Hard metal, sheathes, hilts, _swords_. There was a note taped to the bundle and he pried it off and opened it, heart thumping.

Thin, slanted, graceful handwriting. The handwriting of a man who's efficient, yet elegant.

_Didn't think it was smart to give this to you myself. Don't know when I'll see you next. Need anything, call. I'll back you up. _

Nothing else. No name though he knew the handwriting, knew who it was. He flipped it, stunned. The other side simply said—

_Shit happens. _

He snorted laughter, unwillingly. A scathing noise full of humor.

"Yes, it does. Thank you Sanji," he said, and shook his head in exasperation, slid his hands along the hidden lengths, "Hey Paulie—" The blond didn't ask him what the note had said or who it had been from and why Gin was mixed into the chaos. Of course not. The old rule. _Keep your eyes on your own dick. Don't stick your nose into my business and I won't stick mine into yours. Don't watch my murders, and I'll look the other way when you kill. _

"Eh?"

He got up, hands eager to strip away the layers and see the steel, the cutting edge. "You got something to pass on?" His hands felt the hard bodies through the layers, caressed the murderous curves.

"What—" Paulie stopped, paused, then, after a deep drag from the cylinder between his lips, "I—No, not really. Those say enough," and the mechanic gestured at the bundle lying on his lap, "Yeah. What are you planning?"

He smiled and got up, pausing only to clap Paulie on the shoulder. The indecision had left, as surely as if the _katana_ had sliced them from off his back. Of course. The sword was the answer. Why had he needed to be reminded of that simple fact?

"Zoro—What are you planning—You barely got here, stay a while! Say something!"

"There's nothing to say," he shot back, heading towards the door, "We fight or we don't. Simple. No need to complicate things."

He didn't hear Paulie mutter after he left, "Damn idiot. Why do I believe you?"

Didn't see that already approaching him, wanting to know the writing on the wall, but unable to read. Didn't see the men and women talking and deciding and bracing for the aftermath. But he saw it as if he had been there in the midst of it all.

.

~0~

The sun was going down on the Grand Line and Sanji Blackleg stood to watch it go. His forehead leaned on the glass pane of the window, his Camel's lighted tip flirted with the glass surface, leaving indiscernible traces of grey soot whenever the tip came into contact with the pane.

_I hope he liked them. _

Of course Zoro would like them. Swords were his dirty, little secret.

_He'll need them. _

He tapped his foot restlessly on the titled floor. His feet itched for action. A booted face in one of the elusive CP9 member's faces was a comforting thought. All his fights with Zoro had been good practice for whatever might come. But even before Zoro, Sanji had known that he could hold his own. Hadn't be kicked the shit out of one of Arlong's guys before? Zoro had been surprised when he had told him.

"_Kurobi? I never heard of that." _

"_Well, I kicked his face in. He was bothering Nami. It was a while back—when she still lived down here." _

Maybe they'd meet again. Of course Sanji had seen the ugly mug of the guy around East Blue, but they had never once referred to that long ago night. It had been as if it never had happened and he had been fine with that as long as it had kept the peace.

Zoro had been skipping school the whole week.

Worry ate at him. The little rat of anxiety was gnawing at the short circuits of his fortitude. Where was the mosshead? Was he keeping himself healthy, alive? What had he decided to do with Ace's arrest? The incident was the talk of the city, though the incident had been kept tightly in control by the city and had only made a minute long report on the big T.V stations. The public was looking the other way, oblivious to what was happening at the minute level.

_There goes my cell phone. I wonder if I'll get caught up in this because of that. _

Zoro hadn't called him, hadn't sent anything, and hadn't so much as dropped by to tell him anything.

_Shit. _

He felt forgotten. And though that feeling was humiliating, annoying to think, childish, undoubtedly. He felt forgotten, abandoned.

_I can do something! Does he really think I'm so weak and naïve that I'm helpless? That I should stay in the kitchen and cook for his heroic return?_

_Not the way to think Sanji. He's busy, is all. _

All he could do was wait, head leaning against the glass, smoking, waiting, watching, waiting.

~0~

The fourth day after the burning of Galley-La. The first day after Ace D. Portgas had been arrested. The last day he would spend as an unwanted man. The end of his old life. The beginning of what would be forever termed the New World. The receiving end of it all.

Walking to Usopp's house, sweat still clinging to the dip in the middle of his back, the guitar case thumped along his leg annoyingly. It had been Brooke's idea, long ago. He had carried them in a bundle before, but then the black musician had told him that it was embarrassingly obvious that he was carrying over three feet of steel, glaringly over the legal measurement of steel that civilians could carry around. Brooke had pressed an old guitar case—one of the longer ones—on him and Zoro had accepted, bemused.

The _katana_ were good. They worked well with _Wado_. Cooperative. Solid and deadly. A triforce of finesse. [3] He had just been practicing at Lulu's, talking the situation over with those who had remained on the side of the fallen firebug. Perhaps he shouldn't be carrying his steel so openly, but it would be even more insane to go without.

His eyes and ears had been peeled for the last twenty-four hours. School, that was a far off joke. A not very good one at that. He'd have to graduate with his GED next year. He had skipped the week so far, hadn't talked to his parents in days, let their worried messages pass to voicemail and went on his relentless path.

_Sanji…._

Zoro gritted his teeth and set his mouth, resisting the urge to call, to make sure that the other was fine. He couldn't afford to have that distraction.

_Oh, stop lying to yourself_.

_I can't afford to have him in danger. Never. Anybody else but him. _

Sudden movement of black at the tip of his vision, barely caught from the reflection of a dark car windshield. He turned his head, startled. Nothing down the street.

_What the hell—imagining things? _

He didn't turn again, though the gooseflesh ripped out on his back and arms, telling him that something was wrong. Wrong. The guitar case bumped his thighs as he kept his pace.

_Someone? Behind me. Yes. _

He walked on, heart beating languidly, breath normal, remembering the words of his teacher from long ago. The words which said that he needed to listen, listen to the breath of all things before he could learn to cut.

He can feel the presence. Felt it in the marrow of his bones, in the plasma of his cells.

_I believe I have a follower. _

He smiled, head down, bandana covering his eyes.

_Well, let's see how well he knows these streets. _

He took an abrupt turn into an alleyway, pausing long enough so that the man could catch up, catch the last glimpse of his back as he went left. Then right. Then left, then left again. The apartments around him tower above his head, making the day evening already.

_Ah, shit…._

He can hear _both _Sanji and Ace in his head, groaning. _Zoro…you might belong here, but you're always going to get lost. Idiot…_

He hit the dead end of the chain link fence which blocked off another alleyway sooner than he expected. The walls of the buildings offered no shelter and one glance at the razor-wire which had been illegally twirled around the top of the chain link dissuaded him from even placing a hand on the chain link. There was a dumpster next to him, with a shitload of scrap metal and urban rubbish piled next to it, but he refused to hide. There was only so long he could put it off, this inevitable confrontation.

_I just hope it's the one with the beard. Lucchi. _

The man turned the corner seconds later, and Zoro caught the look of calm determination before the man caught sight of _him_ and the man's eyes widened momentarily.

"Ah," the stranger said and frowned for a second.

Zoro eyed him. A suit, black, the only color lightening it up was an orange handkerchief stuck in a perfect triangle in his breast pocket. A black baseball cap covered his forehead and shadowed his eyes and a steep turtleneck swallowed the rest of his face. Only a long nose which reminded him vaguely of Usopp, peeked out from beneath the black bill of the cap.

"What do you want?"

"Your case seems oddly suspicious, Roronoa," the man said, and pointed a finger at the guitar case, "As a deputy of the police, and as Cipher Pol agent Kaku Montana, I'll have to ask you to please open your case and show me what's inside."

_Ahh...first name basis already. Next minute, we'll be pen pals. _

"That's bullshit. You need a warrant for that," he said coldly.

"You need to know your history before you speak up, Roronoa," the man answered calmly, "_Terry v. Ohio_. If an officer suspects weapons—there is only a 'reasonable suspicion' for a search to be permitted. And here, there is reasonable suspicion that you are carrying a concealed knife longer than the legal limit of three and a half inches—a misdemeanor here in Los Angeles, Roronoa. Open your case please and step away."

_Well, then. _

He stopped down and placed his case in front of him, chuckling, "Trust me, this is a _lot_ bigger than three and a half inches. What the fuck would I do with three and a half inches?"

_This isn't for Ace or Robin. This isn't revenge. To fight with such a motive is unworthy. _

He can almost see his teacher in his mind's eye.

_Maybe…But I do have to admit that I'm a little fired up now. _

The case fell open, revealing his three swords. Shining lustily, eager for the fight, thirsting for the blood.

"Step away from the case, step away from the case." The Beretta's muzzle is tiny, contemptible. A small dark hole, the ridges along its curved barrel stand out. He sees it all. The white of the man's—_Kaku's?—_hands as he put two pounds of pressure on a three pound trigger.

The sheathes hit the ground and the sound is like the three sharp knocks on the lid of a coffin. Hollow and transitory.

~0~

**A/N: So here I am and there you are and I want you to stroke my long, evil beard by reviewing this chapter!**

**Alert! **Me and the awesome **_AllBlueChaser_** are embarking on ZoSan Collab-fic! It'll be on their profile so look for it when it comes out! And me and the brilliant _**Brick-a-brak**_ will also embark upon Collab-fic so look for that on their profile! I'm fucking excited to work with these amazing writers so please come read our dual writings!

**[*] Fanart! **The wonderful _ChibiKanakoNyu_ has drawn some _Betting_ fan art! It's fucking awesome! You can see it if you head over to the "gecko's shit" link on my profile and sleuth for it. Thank you _ChibiKanakoNyu! _Feel free to follow her footsteps my dear artists. The same "gecko's shit" link has my musings on this chapter if you care to read.

**[*] Title: **_Götterdämmerung. German for "Twilight of the Gods" _

**[*] **_**Law and Order**_**_: _**_I make mistakes and this is a story. I try to keep to the facts, but excuse me for all mistakes concerning the legal system here in America. _

**[1] Slave trade**. _It still goes on in America. Horrible. I had a friend who was on first name basis with it and that's where I learned the ins and outs of it._

**[2] April 29, 1993**. _The day the assailants of Rodney King were acquitted. The day the L.A riots began_.

**[3]** **New Katanas:** _One of them is the one he got from Ryumma in Thriller Bark, the other is an unnamed one._


	21. The War of Water 7

_**Chapter 21  
**_The War of Water 7

London calling to the faraway towns, now war is declared and battle come down  
London calling to the underworld, come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls  
London calling, now don't look to us, phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust  
London calling, see we ain't got no swing, 'Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing  
London calling to the imitation zone, forget it, brother, an' go in alone  
London calling upon the zombies of death, quit holding out, and draw another breath  
London calling and I don't wanna shout, but when we were talking, I saw you nodding out  
London calling, see we ain't got no high, except for that one with the yellowy eyes  
The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in, engines stop running and the wheat grows thin  
A nuclear error, but I have no fear, 'coz London is drowning, and I, I live by the river  
-_"London Calling", The Clash _

~0~

The gunshot ripped the grey daylight apart.

He was moving even before the man shot but he still felt the bullet rip a searing line of pain and blood across the skin of his cheek and felt the hot blood drench him as he moved forward. A second slower and he would have lost his right eye. A _few _seconds slower and he would have departed from this world. Just another victim of the streets and the brutality of power.

The barrel of the gun swung toward him, the black ridges trained, and he lunged forward. The second bullet whirred angrily over his head and the ricochet which spiraled out in the air made his ears ring. He had only a half-second to wonder why Kaku hadn't bothered to muffle the gun with a silencer. But then he was in cutting distance, and really, that was all that mattered in the world.

Kaku's face turned and Zoro saw his mouth grimace as the steel blade slid deep into his hand and drank blood. The cut should have taken the man's hand along with the weapon, but the sandy-haired bastard was as quick as a viper, he was quick and wily, Zoro had to give him that. Kaku snatched his body away at the last second, and the sword only bit in halfway.

The pistol clattered to the floor and the pebbled blood droplets splashed it seconds later. Zoro stepped in neatly and with a quick, neat movement kicked the pistol across the floor. It hit the chain link fence and just barely managed to slip through the few inches of space between the chain and the floor. It landed, lazily spinning, to a rest a few feet away on the other side.

He looked up, flushed with the victory, "Looks like you're unarmed, _Agent_."

The man spat to the side and pulled back his suit, reaching for something. Zoro didn't give him a chance, knew he couldn't gamble like that, not here where the stakes were too high. He was honing in, lips peeled back in a snarl, eyes narrowed, and cords standing out in his neck and arms. Looking into that dark barrel of the Magnum .357 which swung at him was like looking into the eye of the abyss. He knew that gun would not open a nice, neat hole in his flesh. The bullets of that particular gun would rip him apart. That gun was no gentlemanly Colt or police-issued Beretta. That gun would render him unrecognizable.

Zoro slashed again, a cut which should have ripped Kaku's body open. His swords barely managed to snag the very tip of Kaku's side as the other man whipped himself back to avoid the fatality. Kaku repaid him by firing—the weapon in his hand roared, but Zoro threw himself to side and Kaku's shot missed.

Except, he felt the heat and wind of the passing bullet as it grazed his back. The smell of singed cloth also alerted him to how close it had been. When you felt the fire of the bullet's trail—you can't really call that a miss. He glanced back, sickly fascinated, and saw the smoke protruding from the hole in the brick wall.

"Now—can't distract yourself, can—"

Instinct caused him to hurl himself to the ground even before the man's words had registered. The second bullet shattered the window behind him. And his ears rang with the shriek of the blast. It was frightening how rapidly the scenes were shuffling through his eyes—there was no time to think about anything but survival. He couldn't even feel the gash on his cheek; was senseless of the drying red crust forming on his tan cheek like a blood tumor.

Zoro lunged again and tried for an upward thrust, using all the brunt force of his upper body in order to rip three steel blades through the man's chest, to plunge the swords through skin and flesh, muscle and organ, to mangle beyond redemption. To kill.

He dodged the third and last shot by zigzagging when Kaku's lips grimaced slightly and the muscles in his arms stood out in anticipation of the fierce recoil—when he gave all the signs of a man about to shoot. The bullet buried itself in the dumpster behind him and then he felt the resistance that only a human body can give and then he understood that he was killing a man.

Kaku doubled over and spat out a mouthful of blood, but all the same one hand came up and wrenched the blade out of his side and stumbled back. The Magnum had hit the ground when the blade had sunk in three inches and lay forgotten on the concrete ground. More blood spotted the dirty gray. Red roses blooming in the waste land.

_Shuseii_, the heavy sword, was a deep crimson the last five inches or so. He glanced up from it to the bloody man in front of him. Kaku was bent over only slightly, one hand pressed to the injury, and his eyes were distant, already leaving. He was trying not to smile, but failing.

The squareish-nosed man barked some laughter, "You don't know what you're doing. None of you. You don't know just who you're against. You'll never survive."

"Shut up," Zoro said, not unkindly, and stepped forward, the toe of his boot hitting the Magnum. He glanced down at it.

"And all for what? A cheap arsonist who was born damned? Who's as damned as his father? A woman who doesn't deserve to live? She's as demonic as her mother!" Kaku snarled, his eyes narrowing. A fresh dribble of blood ran over his teeth and down his chin. He looked slightly rabid, but his face was kind. It was a strange combination—as if something normally gentle had run insane.

"Shut up, someone like you wouldn't understand," he could have said more, but an immense silence seemed to have settled on the scene and he was enough of a swordsman to respect it. The silence of the dead. He kicked the Magnum away; it hit the chain link like its ill-fated predecessor but unlike its counterpart, it refused to go under and away. The silver barrel rose up and snagged in the wire. He cursed and made a mental note to remember that it was there and still loaded. Kaku glanced at it and Zoro saw the man's adam's apple go up once as he swallowed thickly. He gathered himself.

Kaku darted to one side, meaning to make for the exit of the small dead end from which he had entered. Zoro was after him, wolflike. But then the sandy-haired man turned his head to the dumpster quickly and changed his course, veering toward the shit pile of junk that the neighborhood had been accumulating for God knew how long.

The man almost stumbled and fell over a child's dirty, abused play oven and then he was scrambling for something in the trash, hands pushing aside more junk.

Something had caught his eye and when Kaku turned around, he understood what it had been. The squared-nosed man was grinning widely, a trifle unsteadily. The grin would have been handsome, even charming if it had not been ruined by the red glazed teeth. There were two carpenter's saws in his hands. One gripped securely in each hand. They were rusty, the metal was slightly bent, and the handles were chipped and looked more than a little uncomfortable to grip. But they were the double-edged saws that carpenters love, flat and rectangle-shaped, with flat, even, toothless blades that made them more like massive razors than saws. No swords, they, but he cursed bitterly whoever had left those things there. But hell, he should be grateful, this was Water 7; it was a wonder that Kaku hadn't rifled through the rubbage and pulled out an Ak-47 or a snub-nosed Uzi.

"Don't be an idiot," he said instead, and pointed a sharp steel tip at the bleeding man, "You're injured and smart enough to know that that shit isn't going to hold up long against true steel. Put those down and if you give up, I'll consider knocking you out instead of killing you."

"Have at it, then," the man answered, and held the steel rectangles out. The stance was eerily professional, the textbook way a _nitoryuu_ user handled weapons.

Zoro didn't hesitate. He lunged, catlike. But this time, Kaku met him with his carpenter's blades and the sparks flew. To his fury, the other's blades held well the weight of his steel and Kaku even had enough devil's cocaine in his ballsack to attempt to push him back. Zoro allowed a wolfish grin to surface and he shifted his feet for a better stance, muscles in his forearms and biceps bulging with the effort to hold Kaku. He might end up dead—but he loved a good fight.

"Surprised that I can handle swords?" The dark-suited agent asked, smiling in a way Zoro didn't much care for. It was a kind of smile Zoro expected murderers of the worst ilk to have. "Didn't think there were other swordsmen besides you?"

He ignored the jibe and settled for a furious clashing of blades before they settled in a deadlock again. And this time he spat, "You don't look so well, Agent. Careful, or your wound is going to kill you." It was true. Kaku's skin was ashy from the blood loss and pain. Zoro couldn't see the extent of the damage since the dark suit hid everything, but he remembered how his hand had gripped the hilt and pushed it through shifting flesh and warm blood vessels.

The dueled furiously in the small alley, watched only by the broken window and the razor wire illegally spun around the chain link fence to discourage would-be trespassers or adventurous teenagers. Kaku's carpenter blades held their own surprisingly well and were maddeningly double-bladed, casting his own swords at a disadvantage. But they had no pointed tip and their reach was short; Zoro had to fight to keep the gutsy sandy haired man at a distance who, fully aware of the short range of his ad-libbed weaponry, desperately tried to keep the duel close to his body—enough to render his swords clumsy and retrograde.

"I find it incredible that you've managed to get under Lucchi's skin enough to finally issue me to dispatch you, You've come a long way," Kaku cried out, the mirth in his voice all but apparent. He was still pale and the sweat beading his clammy forehead seemed unhealthy on such a warm fall night, but his brown eyes sparkled and Zoro felt his frustration raise a notch. The slimy bastard should have been dead fifteen minutes ago, dead, broken, bloody and propped up on the brick alley wall with the dismantled Magnum in his lap, the stars reflecting off his glazed-over eyes. But infuriatingly, this man was _still here_, fighting him evenly with two pieces of shit he had scavenged from an impoverished neighborhood rubbish heap.

"We'll get Ace and Robin back, bastard," he snarled back, slashing viciously. "You motherfuckers have gone too far."

Kaku sensed him up the ante and his pants escalated as they danced that heady and deadly dance, "Still upset about that are we? For two worthless pieces of trash? They're not going to live much longer, you know—Lucchi's already decided. I give them two weeks; Portgas even less before there are some unfortunate accidents."

Everything slid into slow motion from then and Zoro felt the world go achingly numb as the words rebounded within his skull, bouncing back and forth. He didn't even feel the blade as it sliced across his torso, almost parallel to the lines of his stomach muscles. The blood he spat out was slimy copper. There was only that paralyzing wave of thought which shrieked—_Oh, you're going to kill them you bastard—_

He saw everything silently, as if he had turned deaf or as if the sounds of the world were reaching him through cotton-packed ears or a thin membrane that pulsed. He only knew that when Kaku whipped his ridiculous little blades around, he reversed his own and bet everything he had on a sword-shattering maneuver which Kuina's father had taught him, years and years after his daughter had made her ill-fated run to retrieve her polishing stone and decided to take the stairs.

Zoro knew that his swords were most likely strong and vicious enough to shatter the poor carpenter's blades if they were thrust in a perfect sword-shattering technique, but he wasn't sure. And if they didn't, then the momentum of the slice would leave him with his chest exposed, arms holding the hilts to the side. Perfect for a blade, to cut open his chest—or slit his throat open in a red, gaping mouth. He had never used the technique in combat before, considering it too foolhardy, too ludicrous to carry out—didn't even know why he chose to do it. But he sealed his fate when he gambled and drew his swords back to assume the position, even as Kaku's blades flew forward and he noted the uplifted sneer on Kaku's face.

He executed it perfectly.

They shattered in large fragments and Zoro felt the blade of his _katana_ vibrate. And then Kaku was screaming, raising an unbelieving hand to his shocked face. Two fingers were missing—his pointer and birdie-flipper—and the ring was hanging on by a tendon. Blood streamed from the mutilated hand; he wasn't sure if it had been his sword or the exploding fragments of the carpenter's blade that had done the deed and deprived the man of his appendages—and he supposed that in the end, it didn't matter. He supposed nothing ever did at that point. It was a thought he would think again, many times, after the dust had settled and they had counted the bodies. After he had run like the devil, tears stinging his eyes and running down his cheeks to catch Sanji, only to collapse in a boneless heap at the end and pound the concrete with impotent fists because he had been too late, too late, too late to make it all right, to save both of them.

Yes, he would rethink that thought often, turning it around in his head and examining its facets. Like a jeweler does when a suspicious diamond enters his shop and he scrutinizes it sharply, trying to decide if it's authentic or just another joker in the deck.

Now, at the time, he barely registered it. Zoro didn't flinch as he plunged his two blades into the man's body all the way through until the hilts slammed into the man's dark suit. Kaku sagged and leaned over, almost as if he wanted to bow to Zoro and thank him for the duel—and puked up blood. It was obvious that the only thing supporting his broken body was the very steel that had impaled him.

Zoro snapped his arms back and withdrew the blades cleanly. The Agent crumpled and fell, coughing and spitting blood with every wet-sounding hack. He stood still and watched Kaku's chest heave until the other managed to start crawling away, heading for the chain link fence. Zoro glanced up and his blood ran cold as he spotted the forgotten Magnum .357 caught on the edges of the chain link when he had tried to kick it away. His equally-forgotten guitar case lay there too and Kaku pushed it slightly on his crawling, torturous path to the gun.

He could have beaten the dark-suited Agent to the weapon anytime, but for some reason he thought might be instinct, he let Kaku go and watched quietly, breathing heavy. His swords were dripping the man's lifeblood and if the man wished to die by his own hand, then Zoro would let him. But the second the Agent swung around the long barrel—the fool would die. Simple as that.

Kaku reached the Magnum and managed to pick it up with his unmangled left hand. He was still crawling and all Zoro saw was his back and the back of his sandy-orange hair, still hidden by the black baseball cap.

"I—"

The voice was tremulous, bloated with blood. And, Zoro realized, not without some wonder, that it was still amused. It was little more than a whisper.

"I—I would—would," A wet sound that could only have been Kaku hawking blood onto the cement, "have—for—organization—_died."_

"Yeah," he grunted, and he became aware of the front of his hoodie, soaked with blood and the throbbing pain in his cheek, back, and forearm where Kaku had nipped him. "You don't have much choice anyway. Even if I hadn't shish-kabobed you, Lucchi'd would've killed you himself, eh? You'd have died anyway."

He could tell from the prop in Kaku's head that the Magnun had just been inserted into the already-dying man's mouth. It was either a slow death from blood loss—with a chance of being found by Rob Lucchi—or a self-fed meal of lead bullet. Kaku had guts; Zoro had to give him that. At least it was more dramatic then a cyanide pill. Kaku would go with a blast and a bang; not with a whimper.

"Nothing personal…," he said quietly and waited, standing erect, almost to a salute, "You should have picked your job more carefully—maybe a zookeeper," He thought he heard a small chuckle before the man pulled the trigger. And he waited until the crash of the gun came and Kaku's head disintegrated.

~0~

He placed his blades in the guitar case, not bothering to wipe the sticky blood off. Kuina's father had told him that a blade must never be touched unless it was with blood or silk. He hadn't been precisely loyal to this mandate, but he had tried.

The guns were a lost cause. He couldn't reach the one behind the chain link and he had no heart left to pull the Magnum from what was left of Kaku's head. There had been enough blood and killing today. The alleyway looked like a scene from a war movie. D-Day or Antietam, Blood all over the floor, blood all over the wall, blood on the shattered windows, blood on the shattered blades and shattered glass, a prone body with no recognizable head and a barrel in what used to be its mouth. Blood everywhere, blooming like flowers.

The neighbors must be cowering in their dark homes, pretending that no one was home. Later, after the danger had passed, everybody would claim to have been there, in the very midst of the battle. But now, all was silent. The evening had chased the sun almost all the way to the tip of the horizon.

Zoro slipped the case shut and snapped it. The swords clinked together mutedly when he swung the case up off the floor. He glanced back at Kaku, once, before he turned and lost himself in the streets.

~0~

Lucchi's face twitched once when the news was brought to him by the ever-efficient Kalifa Borbujas. She of the clean habits and the never-ceasing bubble baths. It was a little twisting of the mouth and a wrinkle forming between his arches eyebrows, and then it was gone. Then his pale bearded face resumed its deadly solemn expression. The face of a judge or of an executioner.

"He shot himself in the mouth? Are you positive?" There was distaste in his mouth, a chilling species of contempt.

"The Grand Line deputies found him," Kalifa said, and raised a rigid hand to push her glasses up her nose, "They called upon hearing gunshots and sounds of swordfighting in an alleyway near the Jaya tenants. A small alleyway off Dial Street. They found Kaku's body—it was obvious he took his own life, though the PD ordered an autopsy on account of the damage to his body inflicted prior to his death."

"Roronoa," Lucchi breathed, tracing a finger down his pigeon's back, "I told Kaku to watch that kid and to…dispatch…him if the chance afforded itself. And…he…fucks…it…_up." _The last was a guttural growl and Hatori cooed softly in disapproval.

"It was a messy scene," Kalifa agreed and glanced at the file in her hands, "And both guns issued to Kaku had disappeared. Captain Smoker issued a statement to me saying that he believed that Cipher Kaku—"

"It's obvious what happened, Kalifa," Lucchi interrupted, "Kill him as soon as he shows his face. Splash his picture on the newspapers and on the television screens—I want him completely isolated. Set watches on everyone's houses—"

"We do not have enough men for that," Kalifa cut in icily, "I'd have to ask the Grand Line PD and obtain Captain Smoker's approval."

"I'll a have a government unit out here by tomorrow," Lucchi snapped, "For now—you, Jyabura, Nero, Wanze, Kamadori, and Fukorou will take this onto our own hands. Blueno—"

"—Has already left for the little chimp's house. I understand he'll take care of that little monkey sometime after he comes home from East Blue High," Jyabura drawled from where he lolled on a seat near the door, his jacket open. "Or maybe sooner if he can't help himself."

"The only good thing I've heard all day," Lucchi said, allowing a thin smile to filter through his pale lips, "That leaves—Zoro Roronoa, Usopp Sogeking, Franklin "Franky" Thomas, Iceberg Thomas, Kohza Ermalu—Robin Nico will be transported in a week and I personally will see to it that she does not live the month out after they've gotten everything they want from her. The others die for the weight of their crimes. Krieg, Buggy, Arlong, must be all killed soon before they think they're off the hook. Their top associates, must also be hurried along to the next life." The way Rob Lucchi smiled as he said this, it was obvious that he believed that either there was no next life, or that if it did, it must be very unpleasant.

"We must eliminate all the undergrowth. Later, we can focus on the Supernovas. Now, I want all those old gangs burned out. As for the man who started all this—for the crime of arson and multiple homicide, Ace D. Portgas will ride Old Sparky before he's legally old enough to drink beer."

"Yo-oi!" Kumadori broke in, frowning, looking like he wanted to apologize for the interruption and maybe commit suicide for it while he was at it; "I thought California outlawed that as cruel and unusual! Capital punishment is only death by legal injection!"

"I know that, idiot," Lucchi said, grinning, showing too many teeth, "It's the thought that counts."

~0~

_We have to promise that we'll follow our dreams, no matter what. _

Ace had said that to him long ago; when they had met as kids. When he had been a tiny little rugmonkey, fascinated by the color of his boogers. Believe it or not Ace had not liked the sight of him at all when they had first met—two cast off little kids at the local, rundown YMCA. The man he now thought of as his older brother and for whom he'd lay his life down for had thrown him a nasty, disgruntled look the second he had wandered too close. The other had been playing around the edge of the small field, near the fence which separated the yard from a few untamed acres which lay on the outskirts of the city.

"_Get lost snotnose; this place ain't for little twerps like you, beat it." _

Ace hadn't been much bigger himself, but he already had that aura of grimness beyond his years. The scowl twisted across his freckled face as he surveyed Luffy and Luffy remembered the interest which the older boy had triggered in him. It must have been his appetite for adventure which had drawn him unceasingly after the raggedly Ace D. Portgas.

"_Where are you going? We're not allowed to leave the yard."_ He had demanded of Ace when the freckled boy had lifted a part of the fence and squeezed under it with all the dexterity of a still-growing boy.

Ace had smirked_, "Get lost baby. Go away and don't you dare follow me. Fuck off." _The f bomb rolled off his tongue like it had always been there and Luffy felt his eyes fill with unshed tears at the sacrilege.

But of course he had followed.

They had grown up together after that—along with the other boy, Sabo, who had died before they could really grow up and become strong. Sabo's death had taken a toll on both of them. But what mattered was that Ace had been there for him, had been his older brother and his best friend through it all. Even when Ace had become old enough to learn to watch the girls and to shave the hair off his otherwise smooth cheeks, even when Ace became a gang member and learned how to break the law and how to dismantle a gun and how to make a Molotov cocktail in less than a minute with nothing but a bottle, a wick, and oil—even then Ace had been there for him. Always. He knew that Ace would always be there for him if he needed his brother.

But now, Ace needed him. Ace had always been the older brother, the protector, the responsible one. The one who came running to kick ass if Luffy was being pushed around or to help cover the mess up if Luffy was a little clumsy. Now—the time to repay was here.

Expensive penthouse apartment; rich, influential and powerful grandfather aside—there was more he could do then sit around and help in minor ways. He leaned his head against the penthouse's window and looked out over the city landscape, at the grayish, no-color of the Grand Line. The sun was barely peeking over the tallest skyscrapers and casting golden-yellow light across the urban jungle. Another day, another day. And Ace was imprisoned in Impel Down County Correctional and City Jail. His older brother wouldn't be seeing the sun rise up today—and if he did then it would be from a gritty exercise yard with jail wardens patrolling the edges.

The time had come to end this idiocy. Things were simple, or so Luffy understood them to be. Ace needed to be freed and that was all. It didn't matter how many people's asses he'd have to kick or even if he might end up in trouble himself. Like Zoro. Zoro loved Ace as much as Luffy did and he had already fallen deep into the quagmire.

"Ah, really man? No shit, that? Ah, fuck me…yuh, no man, I've been shacked up with this G of mine, nah you don't know him, nah, you don't, uh-huh. Yeah, no fuckin' man."

Luffy turned his head a little to see Gin out of the corner of his eye, pacing up and down near the sleek and expensive entertainment center, one hand hooked in his belt loops. His bare chest was thickly roped with muscles, and old scars criss-crossed the brown skin. He glanced at Luffy and gave the thumbs-up. His thick lips curled up in a smile. Luffy lifted a hand back in return and moved away from the window—picking up his windbreaker and backpack as he moved toward the door.

Gin was nodding into the phone, a triumphant, nearly predatory gleam in his dark eyes. "Ah, really? Most of the guys, eh? I'm glad to know that man, I really am. I thought everybody fuckin' hated my guts for losing to Hawkeye. But the boss—nah, he can't be—I _know_, I _know_ he fucked me over but that's—hey wait—"

Krieg's man glanced up and covered the cell phone with one hand as he opened the door to the penthouse and stepped out into the hallway, "Hey, Luff! You heading out already man?"

Luffy nodded, "Yeah, school."

The other grinned, "I got great news—well, great for me. I'll tell ya when ya get back, all right? I might not be living here for a couple more weeks. But I'm not sure—could be just a couple idiots straight-trippin'."

He smiled and swung the door shut, "See you later, Gin."

He saw the large cow as soon he stepped into the parking garage where his car was safely stowed away. It was a bulky man, broad of shoulders and chest, a torso roughly the size of a wine casket. All above an absurdly delicate waist and shapely legs. It looked as if someone had shoved the giant of a man in front of a steam roller which had flattened the man from the waist down. His hair stuck up at the ends in two identical tufts like the horns of a bull. The large cow was standing in front of his car.

It was a private penthouse and only a few cars were parked in the large garage. No one else was present except the cow and Luffy felt the slow kick of his heart increase as he approached. Lunchbox in one hand and jingling car keys in the other; Jansport backpack stuffed with more food on his back.

"Move, cow," he ordered, coming to a stop a few feet away from the dark-suited interloper. He had an idea that the cow was from CP9 and from Lucchi—the man he had reserved for himself. And his ideas were usually right. CP9 hadn't taken Ace—but they had taken Robin and they would have no mercy from this quarter. Anyway, their hands were not entirely clean of his brother's blood. They had not killed Ace; but his brother had certainly been put through an inferno. Chopper had managed to tell him some of the details of the hospital's report. Luffy's blood had boiled.

And Robin. They had met only a year or so ago. She had been quiet, secretive, almost cold to him and he had taken it on himself to find more about the quiet woman who seemed too sad to be so young. She was one whom he'd fight to the death to protect—and it had been this cow who'd taken her away for stupid reasons—because she had born to so-and-so and knew such-and-such. If Robin was damned because her mother had been in some sort of communist revolutionary tomfoolery—then how damned was he? He knew damn well whose blood ran in his veins.

The cow opened its mouth—or it seemed to drop open slowly like a creaky drawbridge drops over the castle's moat—and the deep, husky baritone boomed out, "Luffy D. Monkey…you are quite the nuisance to our boss." Each word was sonorous, fundamental.

He didn't blink, "Move cow. I'm only gonna say this once. _Get out of my way. _Of _our_ way." His hands didn't drop the lunchbox, but his fingers loosened and flexed, loosened and flexed.

"Lucchi has given me my orders, boy. They will be carried out. You are to be liquidated."

The cow shifted his stance and Luffy gently tossed the lunchbox away, letting it slide on the floor until it hit the wheel of his BMW. He stretched his long legs out until the tendons screamed and the bones in his ankles crackled.

He wasn't a bad man—hadn't set out to hurt Enel; hadn't set out to kill Crocodile or give a pounding to Buggy and Kuro when they had got mixed up in his path. But when he had seen what they were and what they had done and what they planned to do—he couldn't stop himself. Wouldn't stop himself. Luffy hadn't even bothered to clean up his tracks or go out of his way to make some attempt to make sure he wouldn't be caught. It wasn't that he wanted the notoriety—fame was fleeting, he didn't care to make a name for himself that way. He had simply left it to fate.

He would do the same here. The cow was already moving toward him, strangely rapid for such a large man. Luffy shrugged out of his backpack and flung it after his abandoned lunchbox. Their hands slammed together, fingers intertwining like lover's hands, the muscles jumping out with the tension from his tanned skin.

Luffy stared blackly into the wells of the Agent's eyes, and understood that his death was written there.

~0~

The two men were arguing with the other two men—all carrying conspicuous oily-yellow bandanas or towels hanging out of their back pockets or tied around their tattooed biceps like their quaint form of Visa passports. They were conducting a small spot of agricultural and pharmaceutical business in the environs of a small, dirty corner park that fine morning. Mohji had said he wanted only ten ounces; his dealer was complaining that he only had a six but that he would throw in a couple of tablets whose substance he wasn't quite sure about, but he had been assured that they would take the user to distant galaxies so whaddaya say, eh?

"No! No!" Mohji complained, running a hand distractedly through his wild mane of hair which was going prematurely grey, "You know how much stress I have as a lion trainer for the zoo? Of course Richie wouldn't ever hurt me—but still! I need a couple more ounces—this won't last at all especially since Cabaji is such a hogger! He's been even worse since he got that little visit from Blackbeard's collector couple months ago. Can't trip right, idiot."

The dealer didn't look happy, instead he shook the small baggie with the white tablets inside suggestively, "I need to get rid of these—err, I mean, but these are good, too! Come on, do a guy a favor, rookie."

Mohji bristled, "Oye—watch your mouth, bastard."

The man snickered, "Ay, I can't help if Buggy was beaten to shit and then you came crawling to Don Krieg. Rookies need to take the advice of the older members and I advise that you try this shit out."

Mohji's friend suddenly elbowed the smoldering man in the ribs, "Oye—check it out."

The dealer—a very fat man with a face almost as flat as a slab of rock turned ponderously in the direction the smaller man pointed and his thick lips sneered, "Ay, look what we got here—punks. Punks trespassin' on our turf. Do they really think they can get away without breaking a few bones? Whaddaya think, rookie?" He tucked the baggie back into his massive hoodie with all the deftness of a magician tucking the colored handkerchiefs up his voluminous sleeve.

Mohji giggled, "If I take out a few idiots then maybe Krieg will give me more notice. I was Buggy's right-hand man you know! I'm a man used to being the top-dog." He turned in the direction of the swaggering men and called out gruffly, "Hey! Hell off this place—Krieg's men here are doin' some business transactions and we can't be bothered by lunkheads! Whose are you—Blackbeard? Moria? Hancock?"

The fat man sighed and pushed Mohji to the side with one meaty hand, "You're as badass as Justin Beiber Mohji." He sucked in breath until his dusky face was florid and bellowed, "_The fuck off our land motherfuckers unless you want us to beat the living shit out of you pussies!" _He strode up to them and the three men flanked him, arms swinging. "_Fuck off dickfaces!" _

The man in front of the invaders didn't stop until they were only a few feet away and then he smirked. The four Kriegsmen didn't need the blue bandanas or the sun tattoos on the men's bodies to recognize Arlong's deadly children. The burly, bulging muscles; the thick-barreled bodies which hit the six foot mark and passed it were all the men needed to know the content of the blood which ran through those Gyojin's veins.

"Oye, get lost. This place ain't for little kids. Go jack off in the library if you want to have some fun," the fat man in the middle growled. Only a very brave or a very stupid man could have said that to the three massive men in front of him—and it would do well to know that the speaker was not of the courageous variety.

The man in the middle glanced at his friend on the left and they exchanged a sinister look, full of cruel amusement, "Eh? We have some nutless fucks wanting to throw us off this place! What do you think about that brother?"

"Nyuu—" the man said, puckering his mouth strangely, "I—I am not…very happy about that Kurobi. Well, I don't think I am—I can always tolerate it—like that time that man ripped my hair…"

"Ah, shut up Hachi," Kurobi sighed and turned back to Krieg's group, "You four—I'm only gonna say this one time so listen up—Arlong's taking over this shit here. You Krieg's men are nothin', ya got nothin'. You're all dead men." His gruff voice whipped out like a lash.

"Bullshit!" the fat man ejaculated, face flushed with rage, "Bullshit, stinky fishmen! All you freaks come from some tiny Pacific Island where all ya do is fish and hunt like savages an' ya think ya' can fuck with us—Krieg's gang?" He was cracking his knuckles ominously.

"Kurobi's just telling the truth," the man on the left said, his voice darkly sinister, "Everyone knows that Krieg's nearly senile—and if I hear that slur cross your lips again, I'll rip your tongue out of your head, idiot. _Chu."_

"I want to see you fucking do it—or are you all just bullshit like the rest of the freaks in your little circle jerk gang?"

Kurobi stepped forward, Chu and Hachi flanking him. Their broad chests, shoulder to shoulder, nearly overlapped the four men. He stepped forward deliberately and there was a pause before he said slowly, deliberately—

" Fuck _you."_

~0~

"Yes, yes! I'm getting down the stats, don't worry! _Argh—_don't hit me Doctorine!" The unruly young man who looked in the neighborhood of his early teens flapped his clipboard up in an attempt to protect his head, covered with a messy swap of hazel brown hair, from the clutches of Dr. Kureha.

"Little punk!" Dr. Kureha cackled, a hand up poised to strike, "If you're getting the information from the patients then what the hell are ya doing here in Ward F? The patients are down in the other wing ya idiot! Ya weren't trying to sneak a peek at your little criminal buddy Portgas, ehh Chopper?"

"No! I swear I wasn't! I was going to get some more latex gloves! We ran out in Ward F!" Chopper said, rushing breathlessly through his excuse, "I needed some, stat!"

Kureha jabbed a finger in the small intern's chest, "Have you forgotten that the supplies are in the closet you passed two doors down?"

"Ah! Right! Thank you Doctorine, I completely forgot!" The intern fled back down the hallway from the old doctor with a hand on her hip. She watched as he threw open the door and rummaged through it until he found a new, unopened box of latex examining gloves.

Chopper glanced down the hallway—a quick, sneaky peek—only to see the Doctorine glowering at him. He swallowed audibly and rushed off towards the ward in which the new, barely omitted patients were being checked. They had come into Hiruluk Medical Center and Hospital only ten minutes or so before and Chopper had seized the opportunity to see if he could snatch a moment in the confusion to pass a word or two with Ace. But apparently the Doctorine had known exactly what had been running in his mind and had beat him to it.

The name on his little metal nametag reflected the hospital's fluorescent lights as he trotted down the hall quickly, the latex glove box clutched to his chest. _Antonio Chopper. _Also known as Tony or Tony Tony or just Chopper. He had been working afternoons for over two years now in the Hiruluk Medical Center as an assistant and later as a true intern.

Four men had been admitted this afternoon and he, who had known what was what and who was who since he had started hanging out with Usopp, Luffy and the guys—recognized the faces instantly. Krieg's men. Someone had put some bad hurt on them. Mohji—a scruffy old guy whom Chopper didn't particularly care for—had a dislocated jaw. He was the best off. The others shared between them a broken arm, a gash in the chest which would need stitches, and internal damage which would have the man seeing blood in his pee for a few weeks.

The four men had been clamoring unprovoked aggression from Arlong's gang—the three hardcases whom Chopper knew well—Kurobi, Chu, and Hachi. Everyone knew them. They were the only three of the most violent of Arlong's creed.

Chopper burst into the small examining room in which the guy who needed stitches was lying down on the hospital bed complaining to a nurse, "—and so we were all minding our own shit, yeah? And these mofos come outta _nowhere_! I mean fucking _nowhere_ and start calling us names and all this other shit, we were like—guys, calm down, we're not looking for trouble here, we're good citizens—" He looked up when Chopper entered and demanded, "Ay—you the cops? I got three names fer ya—Arlong, Kurobi, Chu, and Hachi, they're the bastards—"

"Errr, no, I'm an intern," Chopper said, waving his hands around, "The police is on its way though so don't worry. Just calm down so you don't injure yourself anymore."

"Eh? A'ight." The man scratched his chest and winced, "fucker pulled a switchblade on me; that shit's illegal ya know? Damn _right_ I'm making a statement. I got my fucking right, my fucking Miranda, ya know?"

The nurse nodded and soothingly murmured affirmations as she cleaned the gash out of the man's chest. Chopper tore off the cellophane of the box and stuffed the glass canisters full of latex gloves. There were still a couple pairs left in there—certainly enough to last the day, but he had seized on it as a workable excuse to go see if he could sneak into Ace's room. The freckled man had been checked in only a few days ago and the Doctorine had expressly forbidden him to enter the room or even to go see his friend.

"_You're not allowed to, Chopper…and I don't want you to see the poor boy until he's healed."_

"_All—All right Doctorine." _But he was a bad liar; even worse than Luffy.

"Ay! You—Intern! Have I seen you before? Somewhere?"

Chopper jumped and nearly upset the canister with the tongue depressors as he turned around, already sweating, "What? Me? Seen _you _somewhere?" His voice was nearly a squeak.

"Yeah, I got this feeling that I've seen ya before," the man narrowed his eyes at him and Chopper scratched at his head furiously, "Somewhere?" The nurse was taking his blood pressure and she looked up and admonished him quietly. The man ignored her and crooked an eyebrow at Chopper, "You're not—" he paused and crooked his eyebrow even higher, "—ya know, was' that word?—_affiliated?" _

Chopper looked away and then back at the man's face, "Errr—me? No…this is the first time—I mean, no, I haven't, I'm not!—I'm an intern!" He seized on the abstract explanation like a drowning man seizes a life saver.

The man looked suspicious, "Was' that?"

"It means he's studying to be a certified doctor right now," the nurse said helpfully, standing up and going to the sink after shooting Chopper a smile, "He works at the hospital as an assistant and soon he'll go to a good medical school, maybe Johns Hopkins!"

"Eh, no shit?" The man shook his head and the wariness faded, "you're a smartass, huh? Hmph, you're definitely not a—nevermind, forget I said anything, eh? I thought-nah, nevermind—the drug's messing with my head, I'm thinking stupid things," He shook his head, laughing and muttering to himself, then looked up sharply, "Drugs as in—the shit you foo's gave to me, nothin' else. I didn't say nothin' else."

The nurse frowned, "Chopper is not a _smartass_, he's an intelligent young man with a bright future ahead of him, we at the hospital are _all_—"

"Yeah, whatever ya say ho—say, does this place have a kitchen? Can ya get me something?"

Before the nurse could get offended and snap out a retort about the man's own obviously limited intelligence, the door swung open and a burly, smokestack of a man walked in. His presence was a physical impact, a quick, brutal punch to the groin. The man on the hospital bed straightened up noticeably and his hand went up half-heartedly as if he had had the incredible urge to salute. Chopper hastily retreated to the room's corner, hoping that the man would miss him.

"You the cops? Cuz'—"

"My name is Captain Smoker of the Grand Line PD," the smoker grunted, and crossed his arms across his broad chest, "I'm here to take your statement and ask a few questions, Mr. Vasquez. Number one being who did this to you?"

"Arlong's thugs," the guy said, affecting an outraged citizen face, "We was just minding out own business—"

"Cut the bullshit."

"Officer—"

"Get to the point."

A sulking expression appeared on the man's face, but he shut up and continued, "Well, we got into a little spat with them and these three thugs tried to beat the shit out of us for no reason! Arlong's wanting to take over the whole damn city, that fishfreak."

"Spare me your racism," Captain Smoker growled and took the clipboard from his Sergeant's hands, "Arlong,eh?"

"Hachi, Kurobi, and Chu—I've seen those idiots around. We coulda took 'em but that Kurobi pulled a knife on me!"

"Where?"

"Eh? Oh, the park near East Blue High. The school? What's it called—Laboon Park? Yeah, that's the one."

Smoker scrawled the names down and handed the clipboard back to Tashigi, "Exactly what the other three said. It's definitive." He glanced back at the man, "We'll give out orders to arrest them. If we find them and manage to set them behind bars you might get a chance to be in the same jail with them, Vasquez."

"Same _jail?_"

"Vasquez I can see your dilated pupils from here," Smoker grunted, half in amusement, then turning to Tashigi, "Let's go."

"_Hey! Explain your—" _

The Captain swept the hospital room door shut on the man's cries. He turned to Tashigi and the Sergeant saluted immediately, "Captain Smoker, should I send in the reports at once?"

Smoker walked slowly down the hall, "If you want Sergeant. I doubt if it'll make a damn ounce of difference in the long run…" he paused and jerked a thumb at the closed door, "That idiot's just the beginning of many. This little tussle in some kiddie park troubles me a hell of a lot more than anything has in a long time."

Tashigi pushed up her glasses, her eyes dark, "It could just be an isolated case of violence."

"Hopefully," Smoker said, "But I've found that usually it's not what we wish it to be. This was a definite case of faction aggression. Arlong knew damn well what those three members of his were up to. He's too much of a sly and coldhearted bastard to let things like that be out of his control. Krieg's been an ailing cause for a while ever since Mihawk took it into his head to coldly murder every single one. Arlong saw that and proceeded to hone in to take while the taking is good."

Tashigi pulled out a small notebook and rifled through it¸"Laboon Park…it was marked by Krieg a while back. See his mark? Officer Jango went out to document it." She held up the small official book to show the mark to her Captain.

"I know that Sergeant." He started off down the hall and Tashigi quickly followed, "Arlong won't stop now. They'll kill all of Krieg's men down to the last one if that's what it'll take. But you know what'll happen before that happens?"

The Sergeant shook her head, her face pale.

"Blackbeard's rejects will either fizzle out or someone will seize the chance and become the new leader. Then they'll swoop in to try to take a bite out of Krieg before Arlong snatches it all up. Then they'll try to destroy each other. And the rookies and warlords—the Supernova and the Schichibukai as they call them in the forces—they'll get excited from all the bloodshed and try to get away with anything while our hands are full with the gangs."

"And Lucchi?"

"He's just as worse. All he'll do is kill whoever he thinks goes against the little utopia breeding in his head. They're just as worse. At the end of this; there's going to be a lot of bodies." Smoker shook his head, "Do I have to remind you Sergeant that we must follow our own idea of justice?"

"No Captain," Tashigi saluted, "And how long do you think we'll have before…all this happens?"

"Are you blind, ditz?" Smoker grunted, "It's already begun to happen."

~0~

As soon as the steel-gray haired Captain had shut the door, Chopper had sneaked out from where he had squeezed himself in between a file cabinet and a model of the human skeleton and carefully inched open the door to hear the almost inaudible sounds of the Captain and his pretty Sergeant speaking.

The conclusions that the Captain had drawn were almost identical to his own. Arlong's move had been deliberate. And though Chopper wasn't able to hear the two after they had moved down the hall, he was certain that Smoker had reached the other conclusions he himself had drawn almost as soon as he had heard the beat up gangsters complaining. Krieg would fall and that would be the first domino in a series of many, _many_ dominos.

And it just wasn't a terrifying prospect in the future, a scary eventuality. It was _happening. _It had _happened. _

Chopper peeked out into the hallway and sneaked out, ignoring the nurse calling his name. Maybe now he could snatch a moment to see if he could see Ace. The Captain and the Sergeant were leaving—Doctorine would most likely see them off.

His hospital slippers made little squeaks as he sped down the hall, his brown hair sometimes falling over his equally brown eyes. The hallway sped by and he jumped the stairs three by three.

Arlong! Why him? He had been a fairly quiet faction for as long as Chopper could remember and for as long as Zoro could remember and the other members. Arlong was—by general consensus—one of those men who did things best in the shadows, away from the light. His massive bribes to the police and to the government were well known. So why the sudden violence?

It all seemed incredibly ominous. First Blackbeard's obscene betrayal and the way he had betrayed his own adopted son and all his children; then—this.

Chopper's feet skidded to a stop as soon as he rounded the corner to go onto Ace's wing. The Captain, the Sergeant, and Doctorine were all standing, still as stone, in front of Ace's room. He turned to leave, heart thumping, and saw Doctorine's head turn—

He dived behind the wall but already he heard Doctorine's old, shrill voice, "I see you Chopper. You're not very good at hiding dear."

"I was—I heard a noise—" He was already backing away, palms sweaty and scrotum creeping up to his body. Doctoring would be furious; this was twice now in a day that she had caught him trying to deliberately disobey her.

He heard Smoker, "Who's that? Intern?"

"Yes, he's been wanting to see the infamous Ace D. Portgas," Kureha said, "Well then Chopper, come on out and get your sorry ass over here. If you want to see the poor boy so bad, then see him."

Chopper fought an urge to flee, but forced his feet to travel along the short hallway to where Doctorine and the Captain stood in front of a hospital room. He had never specifically told the Doctorine about his pact with Blackbeard and about his need to see Ace because they were friends, but she was far from stupid. He hoped beyond hope that she would say nothing in front of the Captain.

"I'm sorry Doctorine—" he stuttered as he approached, but the Doctor gestured toward the room with a small grimace of pity.

"Look then, Chopper."

The Captain fixed a cold eye on him and Chopper shivered and diverted his gaze, his heart already thumping with the nearness of Ace.

It was one of those rooms with plate glass walls with blinds which could be opened and closed to reveal and hide the room. The blinds were open.

Ace looked like he was sleeping in the elevated hospital bed. The typical IV drips and slew of monitors and panels were arranged around him like furniture. The man's black hair was messy, it fell around his face and closed eyes in a black sprawl. Chopper's eyes ate him up. There were faint bruises on his face and arms, faint purple and yellow blemishes; besmirching his clean skin and snow-white hospital clothes.

His right arm was handcuffed to the arm of the bed. Chopper made a small noise in the back of his throat and his eyes welled. It seemed like he was always crying, bawling like a little baby while his friends were the ones really hurting—he needed to grow up. Maybe if he wasn't always fooling around with medicine mixtures, and looking over x-ray diagrams, and studying for exams; maybe he would have been there to protect his friends.

"Your friend, kid?" The Captain asked, voice like sandpaper.

"N-No," he choked out, and because he felt as if he had denied Ace and betrayed him, he reneged and blurted out, "Yes he is! He is!"

The Doctorine sighed, "They went to school together, Captain."

"Is it safe for him to be here?" Smoker asked.

"I keep a good eye on him, Captain. He wouldn't do anything stupid, would you Chopper?"

"Hasn't woken up yet?"

"Two moments of lucidity, Captain. I find that encouraging relative to the state you brought him here."

"Hey, Kureha—Lucchi brought him in like that."

Chopper heard it all as if through a film of grime. His eyes were glued on the still, abandoned form of Ace. The firebug looked weak, defeated, vanquished forever-folded up like a broken doll and put to rest.

"Chopper?"

"Huh?"

"The patients need you," Kureha said gently, "Go on."

He went, walking like an insomniac in search of dreams.

~0~

The cow was blunt, rock-hard, Luffy's knuckles were raw from the times they had met the concrete resistance which was the cow. The cow waded into the battle like a cow would chew its cud—methodical, relentless. Luffy didn't give ground and they grappled in the shadows of the deserted parking garage. The cow was almost a foot taller, but Luffy didn't care—he did his best to kick its ass.

But the dark-suited man was imperturbable, refusing to let any of his defenses down, dodging when he should, blocking when he could, always closing in, waiting for an opportunity. He could feel his frustration and fury rise with each solemn look the cow threw him. He should quit playing around and send the cow straight to hell—for Ace, for Robin, for everyone.

The heat increased and Luffy launched himself into a fusillade of attacks; his fists swinging, his lithe torso rotating with the force of the roundhouse kicks and punches which he had learned and practiced since Ace had accepted him and taught him how to fight for what he believed in.

The cow tried to slam him into the car, but Luffy dexterously twisted out of the thrust and threw the cow off. He saw his opening—and before the cow could twist with that spooky rapidity, Luffy sent his clenched fist rocketing into the blocky jaw. Straight up the chin—he felt the reverberation in his bones as the flat, crack rapped through the air. The cow grunted and his head flew up, his arms swung out and Luffy launched a sandaled foot into the cow's stomach—he could almost feel the shape of the intestines and how they shifted and collided as his leg drove in.

The man gargled and spat a pellet of spit and blood onto the cement as he doubled over, hands clenched over his injured midregion and Luffy grabbed the man's head by the tufts of hair which looked like horns; brought the resisting neck down and swept his leg up, his knee slamming brutally into the man's chin as his hands pushed down.

This time, Luffy _felt_ the bones break, felt the jaw crumble away and skew and the large cow collapsed. Luffy hopped away, breathing hard, the sweat running into his eyes. Once he had managed to get a punch in, the cow had had no chance. The Agent was groaning, struggling to get up, one hand clutched to his dismantled jaw, the other reaching out to Luffy, whether in an effort to seize him or in supplication Luffy didn't know or care. He dropped to his knees—the one which had hit the cow's chin throbbed already—and fisted his hands in the man's suit.

"Saawww!" The cow gargled, Luffy paid no mind and securing the flailing body in a secure grip, brought the large head down and slammed it, nose first, into the concrete. There was another crunch—Luffy had an idea that that was the cow's nose retreating into his head—and then the cow was still.

Everything was still, except for the rapid tattoo of his heart and his pants. His hands were still fisted in the cow's hair and he released the heavy head slowly, dropping it back into the pool of blood. Luffy got up, legs a little shaky. He had no regrets.

"Holy shit Luffy!"

Luffy turned, Gin was racing from the garage's stairwell, face drawn in shock.

"What the fucking hell happened, is that man dead? You killed him?" Gin dropped to his knees and fumbled for the man's neck, fingers searching for a pulse, "Nah, Luffy, guy's deader than a doorknob; only thing tickin' is his watch." Gin snatched the man's wrist and put two fingers on the bump of wrist, "Damn Luffy, you offed him, what the fuck happened? What are you going to do?"

Luffy shrugged, "That guy's the guy who messed with Robin and her mom; the one who's working with that other bastard to mess with Ace and everybody." He fixed the strawhat back on his head and looked down at the prone body unfeelingly, "He was going to kill me…but I killed him first."

"Damn Luffy," Gin repeated and cast a furtive look around, "We gotta get rid of his body, man. This is CP9, right? That you were talking about? They find out and you're dead. Who is this?" The man struggled to shift the mountain of flesh and rifle through the dead man's pockets.

"He'll know as soon as he sees me again," Luffy said, shrugging, "Lucchi will. And then maybe he'll come after me himself. Hopefully. That way I won't have to look for him."

"Shit, I come down to see if I can sneak out to the store and buy some cigarettes, and I find out that you've killed a guy," Gin grabbed the cow's suit and began dragging him towards Luffy's car. "C'mon help me get this shit into your trunk."

Luffy crooked an eyebrow, "What are you going to do with him?"

Gin gaped as he struggled to shift the bulk, "What d'ya mean? Do you want to go to jail? If anyone sees this, then they'll cuff you and throw you behind bars—they won't care that it was in self-defense! I doubt even _you _could get away with this! Open your trunk will you?"

He pulled his keyring and popped open the BMW's trunk. Gin was probably right; it'd be best if Lucchi had less to work with. As for him, he would be fine. His hands were not clean, but his heart was. It was either the cow or him, and Luffy wasn't going to die, not when his friends and family needed him. He stooped to seize the cow's broad shoulders and lift him into the trunk.

Gin folded the cow's legs in, his forehead beaded with sweat, "All right, let's drive. I know a good place to dump him."

~0~

Krieg's man drove and Luffy rode shotgun. After they had sopped up the blood and thrown the contaminated towels into the trunk along with the agent, Gin seemed to calm down and he even clapped Luffy on the shoulder and smiled.

"This isn't the first time I've seen a body Luffy, don't worry, I'm not freaking out. I can handle this."

Luffy nodded and refrained from adding that this wasn't the first time for him either.

Gin rolled the BMW out of the parking garage, "You'll have to get this car cleaned or have it mashed into a little cube. No way that much blood is going to come out of the upholstery, trust me. Forensics these days can find out anything."

"Lucchi won't bother with that," he replied, knowing it was true, "Lucchi doesn't play by the rules." Shanks had said something similar to him when he had been a little kid, back then. He had been talking about pirates…and how they didn't play by the rules, and maybe that was bad, but at least they didn't pretend they were good.

"Yeah, but gotta take precautions man," Gin said. The man rambled on and Luffy leant half a ear to his talk. He could tell that something else was on his mind, but that Gin wasn't sure if he should say it or how he should say it so Luffy just nodded and listened, exerting some of that will to silence that he so rarely used.

The place where Gin chose to dispose of the Agent's body was a small side road, A deep trench, filled with undergrowth covered it, and weeds and trash blocked the narrow gulley from the road. The street was abandoned, the closest things were buildings and the back of some apartments.

They made short work of it.

Luffy paused, "Aren't you going to hide him?" Gin had just shifted the cow's bleeding body halfway into the culvert.

"Nah, I know this place. Some of Arlong's guys come here to pass the waterbottle and shoot the breeze; they'll find him soon."

"You want that happen?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Gin replied and untied the yellow bandana from his head and dropped it. It covered the cow's broken face and hid from view the worst parts of the damage. But immediately, the yellow bloomed with flowers of crimson, sticking to the area, the lack of nose, obvious. "I want them to see that. I got a call from my friend this morning, right before you left—remember? Krieg's pretty much finished—the man I most admired of anyone. Arlong knows it and openly beat the shit out of four of our guys."

Luffy said nothing, letting Gin talk.

Gin didn't beat around the bush, "The guys—the rest of them want me to take his place; you know, Krieg's. And—I think I'm going to."

"You? Aren't you too young?" Luffy asked bluntly.

Gin flushed, "Maybe. But that doesn't matter—I'm going to, I've decided. Krieg was the number one man in my life—and I think someday he'll realize that I did it for him, to preserve his legacy. I can't live if I see him fall, humiliated. I want to be there for my men when the shit goes down, and if all goes right then we'll come out it stronger than before."

He glanced at Luffy, "I'll be able to help you with your brother. Krieg has enough firepower, bullets, and sawed-off shotguns to blast the police department to Timbuktu. We just don't have that many men. Hell, for what you've done for me, you give me the word and I'll storm the hospital where he's at, man. Just give the word. Just give the word."

~0~

Zoro's eyes bored into Jango's. The crooked policeman shrugged again, "I didn't hear myself, but I heard other people say that they heard other people say that when Lucchi found out…about both of them…he rage was…was great indeed. I heard the man throttled the guy who brought him the news that both Agent Kaku and Agent Blueno were killed. But Smoker's playing that information close to the chest; he's got a special team working on that case."

He leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on Usopp's work table. It had been three days since he had fought to the death with Kaku, CP9 Agent. Jango had been unable to come report—and unwilling, though Zoro had assured him that his services were still needed and that the pay was still the same.

Jango pulled back his long grey hair, "Ay, Zoro, I know I've been working with you guys since forever, but I don't know if I can anymore—things are getting too complicated, I don't wanna end up like Kaku."

"Kaku died because he tried to fuck with a very dangerous man," Zoro said shortly, "And because he tried to fuck with people who didn't deserve to be fucked with. We still need you Jango."

"Aw man," Jango complained, "I'm just a traffic cop—and who's 'we' anyway? Blackbeard defected on you chumps; you guys don't have a leader anymore—I don't even know why I'm talking to you; I always talked to Blackbeard himself, or Burgess, or Laffite, or the old Doctor. Where's my money anyway?"

Zoro tossed the wad of fifties on the table and Jango snatched it up, "You'll report to me now, allright? I want to know when Ace is getting out of that hospital and when Robin is getting transferred, think you can handle that?"

"Eh, probably. I still got my contacts," Jango's skinny fingers flipped through the bills, "Whoa, feeling generous?"

"You'll see more of that if you keep at it," Zoro answered, "Blackbeard might have betrayed us, but we're still a gang. Remember that." It was important to keep the grease in the wheels, to try to keep the machine rolling. The money he had obtained from selling some of the pistols that he had collected from other members. But he didn't know how long he could keep that up—Blackbeard had undoubtedly abdicated with everything—all the weapons, the money, the drugs.

The rat smirked respectfully, "Are you the new leader?"

"No," he said immediately, "But you'll report to me, understood?"

"Yes sir," Jango said, busy with the money, forgetting that he was at least twenty years Zoro's senior, "I'll get to you as soon as I can about Nico and Portgas and everything I can find out. When I do, I'll send word to meet you through the usual channels."

"Wait, Jango," he interrupted, "Are you sure about Blueno?"

"Saw the bodybag myself when they loaded it into the van," the informant agreed, "He was found near some apartments, Some of Arlong's smalltimers reported it—claimed it was Krieg, the bandana was there and all. Except—you know anybody can buy a scrap of yellow cloth. Not everyone could have killed that guy though. Tooke four paramedics to load him up. Guy was a fucking goliath."

"Arlong…Krieg…Ace…Lucchi…Robin…." Zoro muttered, "How do they all fit together?"

"Simple boss," Jango shrugged The money had disappeared. "I heard the new Captain talking about it—he was talking with the fucking hot Red Line Police Captain Hina, that woman can cuff me anytime—he said, and I quote—"

"Smoker?"

"Yeah, that man, He said," Jango screwed his face up, tilted his head, and began reciting, "Lucchi's not even the problem anymore. He just came in and set things going—devil's advocate. This place was ready for some guy to light a match—there was enough gunpowder to blow it all away anyway. What we're seeing is the cause and effect of his tampering. That's what the Captain said."

The captain was a clever bastard. Zoro mulled over the thoughts and came to an agreement with Smoker's theorem. Lucchi had just been the lighter landing on a trail of gasoline. How things had happened, it would have happened anyway, but perhaps it would have been less bloody, less genocidal.

At last he looked back at Jango, "Thanks. I'm through." And stood up.

Jango scrambled up and grinned, "No problem. I'm happy to be of service, you know. I'll get on the other things as soon as I get back."

After the corrupt informant had exited out the back door, Zoro stood a little while more in the empty garage and pondered, hands in his pockets.

There wasn't much he could do if everyone decided to run insane. They all should know that one attack would lead to retaliation, to counterattack, to revenge, to point, counterpoint. There wasn't much he wanted to do at this point except bring Ace and Robin back; to save his friends and keep them safe.

And oh, fuck, to keep Sanji the fuck out of it all.

_Maybe…I should just…not call him, not talk to him, ignore him, pretend he doesn't exist. Ace was right—the less between us the better. If they find out, even I won't be able to stop him from being dragged into this shit. _

He paused, and took out his phone, glanced at the smooth front.

_One call. "I'm fine." Or "Can't talk, but will you posted." "Be careful." __I'll leave a message since he's probably at the Baratie. _

Instead he put his phone away.

_I should just forget about him for now. _

_I should just tell everyone I fucked him and that too bad Ace is locked up so he can't pay me $500. He'll be pissed, but no one would ever suspect— _

_Stop it! He'll be fine. Lucchi doesn't even know he exists. _

The garage door creaked open and Zoro turned and saw the longnose peeking at him. He sighed, "Usopp…"

Usopp held up a weird contraption; it looked like a mechanized drinking glass, "I made it myself—it catches all the acoustic sound waves hearable by human ears and can transmit them through the thickest walls."

"I would have told you anyway, idiot."

The man ignored him, "Zoro…I was thinking…well, you know—Jango _did_ bring up a valid point."

Zoro stared at him blankly, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Usopp blushed and stammered, "Well, you have to admit that it's been on all our minds, and that maybe, even if you were against it—it would help us, and help everybody—"

He was getting irritated, fast. There was too damn much in his head at this point and Usopp might as well have been posing riddles. He kneaded his forehead and groaned, "Out with it, longnose, just—spit it the fuck out, please."

"Be our new leader—" Usopp blurted out, "Be the Blackbeard! Be our boss!"

"You're insane." Zoro snarled, flabbergasted that the sharpshooter would even consider it, "Me? _Me?_ The least thing I want at this point is to become a gang boss—hear me? The _least thing._ And why me? I was the least committed of all you guys—you think I want to be chained to it forever? That—no. No."

Usopp's face had fallen throughout his outburst, "But Zoro, Jango's right. We're not a 'we' without someone at the top—nobody knows what to do, we're all lost. We need someone—if not, we're not gonna be able to do—"

"Why the hell don't you become the new boss then, idiot? I'm sure you've always wanted to be bigger than what you are."

The sharpshooter shut up and Zoro clapped a hand to his eyes, "Fuck. I—I'm sorry. But Usopp, I can't deal with this right now—you understand what the hell we're all going though—and you come and tell me to just up and proclaim myself gang head. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Usopp smiled wanly, "We all feel like that—but I'm not going to back down on this. We won't survive without a boss. And you're the best man we've got. Everyone knows you did Kaku. And we're proud."

Before Zoro could answer, his phone went off. He grabbed it and saw it was Franky calling. The adrenaline kicked in and he flipped it open and pressed speaker.

"Ow! Yo, Zoro-bro! You there?" Franky's boisterous voice rang through, clear and carefree.

"Here Franky—what's up?" Zoro glanced at Usopp.

"I'm going to kick some CP9 ass right now so—"

"_What the hell!_ Franky—"

"Can't talk much Bro, this weasel-looking guy wants to shoot me in the nuts. I think he wants to coax me into the back of his van—but I doubt he's going to molest me in there!"

Zoro's blood turned to ice in his veins, "What! Where are you—what's happening! Tell me!"

Franky laughed, "I'm going to kick his ass—"

There was a pistol shot and Zoro's heart lurched even as Usopp cried out.

"Sorry bros! Missed him! I just wanted to let you know so that if I kick it then tell Bakaberg that I love him like a Bro and that he should marry Old Monster Kokoro and so give Chimney and Gonbe a father! I'm going to hang up now—"

"_No! Where are you ,you fucking pervert!" _

Zoro heard faintly in the background, a thin, nasal voice screech, "Put that thing away or I'll shoot, I'll shoot!"

"Galley-La!" Frank roared jubilantly and hung up.

He looked up stupidly at Usopp; the sharpshooter was beyond pale but he fumbled the phone out of Zoro's hand, "I'll call Kohza to take us; you don't have your bike, huh?"

"No, I left it at Valentine's," he said, "But I have my swords and that's all I fucking need."

Usopp's ear was pressed to the phone as he spoke urgently with Kohza—the sharpshooter was fumbling in one of the cabinets in the garage. He kept on dropping things and cursing, "No—tell you when you get here—Franky's in trouble, man—you gotta take us, just _get here!" _He hung up and tossed the phone to Zoro.

Zoro raced to the door and he turned back, glaring at Usopp who was still wading through junk in the cabinet. "What the hell are you doing, Usopp? Let's go!"

"We're not going anywhere until Kohza gets here," Usopp snapped, "And I'm—_ah!" _The sharpshooter pulled out a large metal tool box, "Got it!"

"You're going to fight with a hammer and chisel? Leave that shit and c'mon!"

Usopp plunged a hand into his shirt and pulled out a key on a chain. There was a click and Usopp swung the top up, his face oiled with sweat as he gingerly put his hands in. There was another click and Zoro saw Usopp holding something which looked too big, and too large to be a gun.

"What the hell _is that?" _

"It's my Uzi. Me and Franky assembled it."

"You're going to kill yourself with that shit."

"Maybe," Usopp said, hefting it, "But at least I'll take more than a couple with me."

~0~

For all the cook knew, Zoro Roronoa could have been dead and rotting in his grave for these past few weeks with a bullethole in his forehead. He had heard nothing—no phone call, no message, no hurried visit. It was only then did he realize how far removed he had been from Zoro's world. He had only come close because of Zoro, and now that that man was gone, the door had swept shut and he had been left out of it.

There was also that strange, insidious feeling of alienation. As if everything he had lived through with and because of Zoro had been a dream, a long and delirious hallucination. Or perhaps Zoro had fulfilled his little bet and was now yukking it up with his cronies about how easy Sanji had been to lay, and how he had really believed that they were in love.

_Stupid. I'm fucking stupid. _

Zoro wasn't here because he was up to his neck in chaos. Sanji didn't need the greenhaired man to tell him how it was. He could just open the newspaper and see the disturbing reports of gang warfare which had increased to unheard of levels. The hospital had declined to comment about the number of patients admitted.

Home was unbearable—it reminded him too much of Zoro and it had become unhealthy how often he checked the phone for messages. The Baratie was where he lived now—spending hour upon hour in the kitchens, in the dining area, in the storage.

Today was no different. The dining hour was as busy as ever, customers talked nosily amongst themselves, the click and clatter of silverware dominated and the chefs bellowed gustily in the kitchens.

"Oye! Sanji! Love-cook!" Patty called, banging his way through the kitchen's doors to where he was stirring a chowder on the oven, "Some guy's in the dining area—wants to talk to you. Table 45"

Sanji felt a worm of apprehension coil in his stomach, "What? Who is he?"

"I dunno. Old guy. Fat. Ugly."

"What?" he said, the description ringing no bells, "I don't know anybody like that."

"He wants to talk to you; maybe he just wants to compliment the soup. But that's hardly likely," the chef grunted. "Your soup bares a remarkable resistance to my liquid diarrhea."

"Shut up!" Sanji wiped his hands and marched out. Who the hell wanted to talk to him? He cast a look around when he opened the door in the direction of Table 45. He couldn't see that well from here, but the man sitting at the small, circular table for two was a broad-chested man, fat, and with a crazy afro of wispy white hair. He was looking around nervously, eyes wide, a big grin on his face, showcasing his obnoxious buck-teeth. The stark, dark blue suit he was wearing was ill worn, shoddy, and unfit.

Sanji recoiled inside from the image, and walked briskly over. The man saw him coming almost immediately and the shit-eating grin widened.

"May I help you sir?"

"You the sous chef Sanji Blackleg?"

"At your service," Sanji said curtly and inclined his head a few degrees. "How may I help you today?"

"Actually you can help me in two ways kiddo!" The man said, his voice annoyingly high-pitched, "You can find me some ramen noodles—which you don't have on the menu—and you can sit down and talk with me a while. But first, bring me a huge plate of ramen noodles, sha-ha-ha-ha, a big plate of ramen noodles! Big plate!"

He felt his scrotum crawl to his belly at the smile which was not quite sane and the laugh which was definitely not; and he bowed again, letting a thin sickle of a smile part his lips. Had he really thought he wasn't in this?

Sanji bowed again, and said smoothly, "Right away sir. I will be delighted to make you something you won't be able to resist. A house special." He turned on his heel and strode back to the kitchens, rolling his sleeves up, flexing the muscles in his hands. His balls were tight, the hair at the nape of his neck stood up, and the ice in his spine chilled him. But it was to be expected.

~0~

Stroke my beard; whaddya say?


	22. The Death of Wanze, CP7 Agent

**Chapter 22  
**The Death of Wanze, CP7 Agent, and its Consequences

Oh my god please help me knee deep in the river trying to get clean  
He says wash your hands get out the stains  
but you best believe boy there's hell to pay yeah you best believe boy there's hell to pay  
come on  
Oh my God please help me waist deep in the river can you hear my plea  
He says son you come like a beggar in the streets  
you might make it boy but by the skin of your teeth.  
I rambled with the worst of them  
fell in love with a harlequin  
Saw the darkest hearts of men  
And I saw myself staring back again and I saw myself staring back again.  
Oh my God please help me neck deep in the river screaming for release  
He says it's mine to give but it's yours to choose  
you gonna sink or swim you gonna learn the truth no matter what you do your gonna learn the truth saying  
Ate the bread that once was stones  
Fell from a cliff never broke a bone  
Bowed down to get the kings overthrown  
Now I'm all alone and the fires grows and I'm all alone and the fires grows  
Swing sweet charity take what's left of me  
A new beginning or is this the end  
Swing sweet Seraphim take me back again or watch me make the messes of men

-"Barthlomew", The Silent Comedy

~0~

Picture it. The red musk of sticky blood staining his hands crimson, the copper smell rising from the soaked cuffs of his dark blue suit, The ringing steel in his hands buried to the hilt in a human chest-he had never seen life fade from a man's eyes before. It was a deadly silent, incredibly intimate crystallization of everything. As if the two of them had been caught in a bubble of time in which all was still and all he could hear was the inaudible sigh of the man's soul escaping, whisking away from the broken jar of his body, seeping through the gaping mouth that had opened up in his abdomen. That, and he could hear the quiet hum of the man's circuits, shutting down, one by one.

It was his eyes, mostly, that gave away the approaching imminence of his demise like the bleeding, terrible wound in his lower chest could never do. Whoever said that the eyes were the windows of the soul had undoubtedly seen that everything could be understood in the curve of the expressive iris. Even when blood tears were beginning to smear the cloudy white corneas and seep star trails down wrinkled cheeks-as was the present case.

The tine was infinite in that moment. Sanji must have thought a million thoughts in the few seconds he thrust the long, brutally elegant blade of the Houchou through the man's suit, through his skin. Through his tissues, through his muscles and subcutaneous fat, through his liver and through his visceral bag. He had kept on boring in,-past shifting, steaming, pumping organs, past more skin, crunching through solid bone once or twice, and ripping through cloth once again and finally freeing the red tip of the knife into the open, starlit air. The Houchou, damn it's thirsting soul, had sliced through beautifully, without remorse or regret.

It held them together, murderous lovers.

And then, with a grunt, he gripped the man's thick shoulder, and pulled the blade of the Houchou clean out. Red ink welled out from the entry point as the flesh collapsed around the wound. The agent sagged and, Sanji, not wanting to dirty his suit, stepped back smartly. Wanze (if that was even his name—it sounded a little too exotic for Sanji to believe it was authentic. But then he assumed that working for such a shady organization like CP9 must make fake names a requirement.) hit the pavement hard. There was an ominous dry snapping noise when his knees slammed the ground. Sanji had an idea that it was the sound of his kneecaps cracking and he almost flinched. But then, broken kneecaps were the least of Wanze's problems.

Wanze looked at him sightlessly, the same big shit-eating grin pasted on his face, red teeth glistening. His hands ghosted unbelievingly over the ghastly puncture wound. His throat issued forth another one of those wet, gurgling noises and blood bubbled at his pale lips and ran down his fat chin in a little stream. And then, finally, he was falling. It was a slow, creaking movement—as if gravity had no say in the matter.

The thud was solid, strangely quiet. And Sanji stepped back, hand still clutching the wooden handle of the houchou knife, lest this was still a bluff (and Wanze's hand might thrust out suddenly and grab his leg.) and nothing more than a trick.

Silence, in the back lot parking lot. The distant sound of light traffic, the whisper of the wind as it ran through his hair and made the sticky heat of the night bearable, only enhanced the quiet around him.

So now he had a dead body on his hands, how pleasant. And now he was a murderer. Oh mother, he had just killed a man. He had brutally, cleanly, unhesitatingly sliced away the man's tenures to life, given him a one way ticket to the here beyond. Sanji, stood, contemplating. And inside, his heart hardened a little more with the realization that he felt almost nothing.

~0~

From the instant that Sanji had beheld Wanze, he had had a foreboding that things would not end well. The man's protruding belly, his tacky suit, his flyaway grey hair and bugging eyes, the buckteeth sticking out from underneath his wormy lips—the man himself exuded an air of slippery, insidious malevolence. The kind of man who would slip a little poison in your food, or a knife in between your ribs while your eyes were wandering.

The steel heels of his loafers clicked the blue titles of the Baratie's floor as he walked to the unknown diner who still sat in the exact same position as Sanji had left him in. The big, shit-eating grin stretched across his thin lips, the eyes wide and empty as holes in a paper bag. He walked closer to the end of it all with every step, his long legs clad in black slacks ate the floor up and brought him closer, closer. In his hand, wrist up, he balanced the large porcelain plate covered with a pile of steaming ramen noodles. They were plain, undecorated, but the smell arising from them was making the other diners pause and look up wistfully as he passed.

Sanji laid it gently on the table in front of the man and pulled his chair out; sat down coolly and shook out his silver case. The thin, home rolled cigar he pulled out lit up easily from the tip of the solid silver lighter and the sweet, aromatic fumes spun up and into the air. The Baratie was a non-smoking restaurant, but he had never minded.

The man stuck his fork into the plate and expertly wound up the ramen around the silverware. He opened his mouth wider than Sanji considered necessary _or_ polite and stuffed the whole steaming mass into his mouth, swallowing with what seemed to be a brief second or two of chewing.

The cigarette trembled minutely in Sanji's mouth as he bit down hard on the filter. He absolutely despised it when diners at his restaurant just shoveled in the food he had so lovingly cooked, that he had put a little piece of his heart in and blessed; he absolutely despised it when they threw it in their mouths like so much coal to the furnace, and swallowed it without knowing what they had just missed. The ramen noodles had nothing fancy, granted, but he had made them perfect just the same.

If Sanji had not already believed this relation was not going to go well before, he most definitely knew now. He could tell a man by the way he handled his food and this man was a relentless, classless, malicious idiot.

"My time is short, sir, "Sanji said curtly, "Say what you came to say and be on your way."

"Oh-ho! You won't have that attitude when I tell you why I'm here—you'll be begging me to stay and tell you more." The man giggled nastily, "But I have to congratulate you on these noodles—they're a little too cooked but that's fine, you probably don't have much experience with noodles."

The heat began to creep up his shirt collar. Sanji's voice was so frigid, he half expected the water in the thin, crystal glass in front of him to freeze over. "I have been cooking for eleven years under a master chef; I can cook noodles in any way, perfectly. If these noodles are not to your taste, then it is not a problem with the dish itself."

"Getting offended are we?' the man snorted, still smiling (It seemed to Sanji that the idiot could express any emotion with that same wide smile on his face.) "Calm down. I only said that they were a little too cooked, I like my noodles in a different way."

"How?" Sanji snapped.

"Raw," the man smiled, "Or nearly so."

_That's disgusting. _Sanji mentally gagged, but he remained composed and cracked an ironic sneer, "Why am I not surprised? Fitting." _For a man such as you. _

"You sound like there's something wrong with barely-cooked ramen!" The man protested, a little bit of a frown creeping into his eyes. (Not at all affecting his smile, no, not at all.)

"This is beside the point," Sanji retorted, waving his hand the cigarette clutched between his pointer and middle, "I don't care. Get to the reason why you're here. You may enjoy the present company but I do not."

"Wanze," the leer across the table widened, if that was even possible which Sanji had highly doubted it was.

"Excuse me?" He tilted his head slightly, thinking he had heard wrong.

"_My name is Wanze_," the other repeated, a little dramatically in Sanji's humble opinion. "Government agent—"

"CP9?" Sanji barked, he didn't even care that a few nearby diners shot their table nervous looks and hurried up their last bits of food on their plates. (It was well known that the Baratie chefs picked fights…often.)

"Not quite, I haven't had the honor. Cipher Pol Number…" Wanze smirked and put up two fingers, "Seven."

Sanji relaxed a bit into his chair and matched Wanze's smirk with one of his own, "Not a big boy yet, eh? Don't worry son, your balls will drop eventually."

"Don't get too full of yourself, idiot!" Wanze half-screeched, "CP9 didn't think you were worth the time. They knew I was enough to deal with you! Little kid like you can't handle whatever you think you're thinking you're getting into."

"And why would you think _I _would be getting into anything?" Sanji mused, "I'm a high school senior with good grades, a lot of money, and a rising name in the culinary world."

Wanze giggled, "Lucchi might be mad at me! He said, 'Go watch that man and tell me if you see anything interesting. Look but don't reveal yourself—we're not sure yet! But you have to go by your instincts sometimes to shine! And yes, I know now!"

"Know?" Sanji repeated. He felt something cold and ice slither in the pit of his stomach. A slimy, nasty creature which sank its little piranha teeth into the lining of his gut. But he kept calm, oh so calm. One twitch of the mouth could be a betrayal.

"I know…that you know!" Wanze chirped and stuffed anther fork-full of ramen into his mouth. "I know that you know too much! You know CP9, you know about the warlords, you know about Robin and about Hancock, about Ace and about the way Lucchi didn't smile when he saw Galley-La burn, but his eyes did! You know about Blackbeard's betrayal and about Blueno's death! _You are alive and aware to the death throes of Water 7 when so many aren't._ You see through the dark and see us inside!" Wanze was leaning forward intently, his head mere inches away from Sanji's. "And why would you know so much when so many of your kind refuse to admit it! Great men like Lucchi and Jyabura don't pay attention to the small things…but I see…I put two and two together. I am the mouse that takes the spine from the lion's paw!"

"Enough with the metaphors, your rhetoric won't save you now," he interrupted and leaned back, tearing himself away from the wide circles of those eyes which seemed to be lacking any semblance of sanity. "Get to the fucking point and get the hell out of here. You're a plague."

Wanze went on as if there had been no interruption in his little tirade and Sanji had an idea that the man was so far gone that everything he had said had gone unnoticed. Such was a man was unsafe and Sanji began to shift in his seat slightly as he stretched out the long muscles in his thighs, cracked the bones in his foot and rolled the ball joints of his ankles.

"I saw the weak link in the chain! I saw where that man would break—that man!" Wanze suddenly seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in and focused again on Sanji's face, "Tell me! With the fall of Blackbeard, what will happen to the children he has left behind?"

Sanji said nothing, but continued to pin Wanze with his gaze.

Wanze smiled, "It's obvious that you know….but that you don't know what, precisely. Let me tell you. There are too many that are protesting the dirty, filthy way Blackbeard—also known as Edward D. Teach in some quarters—did his followers. Killed the main man and took the best names with him when he left. You'd think they would wander off like lost sheep when their shepherd has abandoned them….but they haven't. Why haven't they?"

He said nothing. But the sweat dripped down his back, between his ballsack, in the creases of his inner elbows. Realization was still distant, but coming fast. Racing towards him, like a train rushing from the far horizon, the whistle blowing hard and the steam of its engines rising above in a black cloud.

"_Why haven't they?"_ Wanze slammed a fist on the table, shaking the delicate structure and making the red wine splash out onto the pristine white of the tablecloth. "Because _that man_ is holding them together. Zoro Roronoa! He is _becoming. _He is going to take the reins of the old gang and continue the race where Blackbeard left. He's just a kid, but he's dangerous! His family left the city a few days ago, his best friends are in custody. A man like that is ten times more dangerous." Wanze smiled. "Lucchi wants him dead. Better yet he wants a good grip on his balls…Lucchi would rather have him as a weapon in his own hand...but there's no weak spot on that man…nowhere to stick a crowbar in and maneuver. He has other friends, but no_ one_ friend that we're sure Roronoa would put down his weapons for…"

It was then that Sanji realized. It did not hit him hard, no sudden intake of breath and widening of eyes. It was just understanding that seeped into his mind, his skin, and his thoughts. The knowledge settled over his shoulders and even though his body registered nothing, he knew that there was no possible way that Wanze could leave this place alive tonight. The ramen noodles would be the man's last meal because Sanji could, under no circumstances, let this man depart with such dangerous knowledge. Wanze had been right—he had realized the one small detail that great minds like Lucchi had passed over (Not completely though because Lucchi _had_ sent someone to follow up the lead.). He had realized it and so held the one key to Zoro's demise.

But Sanji would not let it be Zoro's Achilles' heel. He would not be the fuck-up. Would not cause the man he loved, admired, and needed to be compromised because of him. Yes, he was willing to do anything for Zoro, even murder. Even murder.

They stared at each other: a grimace on Sanji's face, a leer on Wanze's. They stared at each other, nakedly, finally revealed fully and finally to one another. Sanji abandoned any reservations he might have had, any pretenses that he had faked in the beginning of not knowing anything. Wanze, undoubtedly, also cast aside the little, useless, game they had been playing.

The silence between them ached with the weight of the words left unspoken. Sanji knew that whatever Wanze decided to say next would be life-changing, catastrophic. But at the same time, worthless. No matter what, the writing on the wall was written in his blood.

Wanze's breathing was erratic, his eyes shone with childish excitement, his shining white buckteeth stuck out from under his lips absurdly. His smile stretched when he said, "…And then I found _you._"

"That's enough," Sanji growled, his hands clenching impotently, "I swear on my father's name that if you _touch_ Zoro, I'll rip your head off."

A knowing look immediately seeped into Wanze's fat, lunatic features, "Best friends? Sa-Sa-Sa-ha!" Sanji nearly winced at the noise which he assumed was Wanze's species of laughter. "Best friends! Best friends! He made a fun bet with his buddies that he could spread your pretty legs and lay you and then he realized that he liked you a little too much to do that! And then he thought it'd be a good idea to tell you all about his life and went on the other side of the city—and you swallowed it all up and now I'm going to use you against him!" Wanze began to bounce up and down in his seat and Sanji drew back, alarmed¸"Be grateful for the irony—now it's not him who'll fuck you but _you who will fuck him over!" _

"_I said don't touch him!" _Sanji snarled, standing up and slamming his hands onto the table. The wine glass tottered, fell, and shattered as it hit Wanze's plate. The wine splashed and soaked the already desecrated white cloth, "You listen to me you little shit—_anyone who hurts him deals with me, do you understand that mothefucker?" _

He was furious, explosive—everything in his body honed in on the fat, pasty features of Wanze and on the fact that he his sole desire in life at the moment was to place a solid, round-house punt right between those insect eyes. How dare this man think to use him against his lover; he'd rather die than let that happen. How dare he think that he would stand by and let Zoro come save him and face the consequences.

Wanze was looking more delighted by the second, even Sanji's outburst did not seem to faze the happy, idiotic look pasted on his ugly mug, "How disgusting!" he barked in that nasty, high-pitched voice of his, "You're fighting for someone not worth the shit under my shoe! He's a filthy, less-than-human gangster! He's unloved, unwanted, a criminal, a low-life! Zoro Roronoa doesn't deserve to live! He's—"

"_Shut the fuck up!" _

"He's going to die! Rob is going to shoot him in the back of the—"

"_Shut up! I'm warning you!" _

"—_head and he'll die and no one will care but death is too good for him!"_ Wanze screamed back triumphantly.

"_Bitch ass motherfucker, I told you to _shut the fuck up!_" _Sanji roared and with a mighty kick, flipped the table over and sent it sliding across the polished title floor. The commotion from the kitchens was great, and his fellow chefs came tumbling out from behind the double doors where they had been undoubtedly listening from, or at least trying to.

Patty was at the forefront of the rush, a great butcher knife clutched in his ham-like fist, "Sanji! Fighting with the customers again?"

"_Shut it shit-cook! I'm going to kill this bitch ass motherfucker where he motherfucking stands or so help me God—" _

Even when he was young and just a snot-nose wiping up spills on the floor or scrubbing pans in the kitchen, his temper had been infamous. Since he had nearly starved to death on that piece of rock that was a bad joke of an island, he had had an immense pool of turbulent emotions, none good, which had plagued him for years. Sanji guessed that it was called_ trauma_ by some psychologists, but he had never gone and lain on the couch and said how he felt so angry sometimes. So fucking _furious _that he had suffered so much for nothing, that old man Zeff had suffered so much for nothing. He had been furious at his own impotence.

The cooks tried to restrain him, latching onto his arms, two or three to each and another couple to his torso and still he could barely manage to walk…one…step…at…a…time, towards that ugly pug face of Wanze who only stood there to the side, hands lax at his sides, smiling and looking as if nothing had fazed him, and never would. Had his outburst not scared Wanze in the _slightest_? He had sent grown men fleeing before with a mere word.

"Hey you, customer! What's the problem?" Patty demanded, directing his attention toward the still form of the agent.

Wanze looked at Patty, his eyes bugging out, "I—I—I thought I was going to die…"

Or maybe this guy was just a full-fledged idiot. Sanji lunged again, managing another step, inciting more cries from the cooks.

"You think you're so smart because of what you _found out, _you little shit?" He snarled, "You think your shit don't stink because of what you're doing, think you're a big boy now? If you fuck with my friends then I swear to God that I'll kill you where you stand—I swear to God—"

Wanze smirked and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, "There's nothing you or _he_ can do anymore, as soon as Lucchi hears what I have to say—"

It took all twelve cooks to drag him back into the kitchen; Sanji took some form of satisfaction in that little fact. What he did not take satisfaction in was that the last sight he saw before the steel double doors swung shut was the smile on Wanze's fucking face, bloated and triumphant.

He relaxed and said coldly, "Let me loose."

As expected, none of the cooks even lightened their tight grip on his body. He was going to have fingerprint bruises all over his torso and arms once this day was through. And what a day it had turned out to be and it wasn't even over.

"Patty, tell 'em to let me go," Sanji ordered, glaring at Patty, "I'm not going to maul anyone."

Patty shook his head in exasperation, "Sanji, it's been ten years and you haven't changed a whit. Always trying to solve an issue with your legs instead of your head, letting yourself get riled up too easily, picking fights with whoever you want even if they were no one you should fuck with."

"Enough of your nagging, you're acting like my mother, shit-cook," he hissed, annoyed. He needed to get loose soon so that he could stop Wanze from leaving the Baratie before Sanji could stop him. He didn't know what this impediment would pertain; he did not allow himself to think of the particulars at the moment, it would only bog him down. The way things would turn out, he was completely unsure, but he was certain of one thing. Wanze could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to leave the Baratie. But these damn cooks in his way—_Wanze was going to leave before he could shut him up! Zoro needed him to take care of that bastard agent. _

"_Let me go!" _he snarled, giving in to the impulse to throttle some misfortunate's throat. He could feel the capillaries of his skin protesting at the abuse of dozens of fingerpads dug deeper into his skin as the cooks tightened their grip.

"Keep him tight, boys," Patty barked, stepping in front of Sanji and fixing a hard eye on him, his meaty hands on his equally meaty hips, "If we let'm loose, we'll never see the end of the fucking lawsuits—"

"Let him go, Patty," a harsh voice interrupted the chef's order. Sanji snapped his head to the side, eyes wide and unbelieving. He hadn't expected any help from that corner….he hadn't expected _anything _from that quarter. Zeff had rarely cared about what he did or did not do. No, that wasn't true. Zeff hadn't interfered much in his life—that was worlds away from simply not caring. But now…

"You deaf, ya idiot snowpea? I said to let'm loose, let the kid go." The old chef, his moustache pigtails resplendent clunked his way into the kitchen, his rough peg leg thunking heavily against the blue tiles.

Patty gaped, then his eyebrows rushed together in disapproval and he frowned heavily, "But Chef! Sanji means to go pick a fight with the honored client that just walked out!"

"That's his business then," Zeff growled, "Closing time was one minute ago and you haven't even started cleaning the kitchen…you'll all leave an hour later and I'm not paying overtime for a bunch of stupid eggplants like you. Let Sanji go and hurry the fuck up before I anally rape you all with my peg leg."

The chefs scrambled and Sanji swore he felt the hands evaporate off his body. He would have laughed out aloud if the entire situation had been a tad bit funnier. Zeff looked at him oddly amongst the bedlam in the kitchen. His look was a mixture of fierce pride, bitterness, and black humor. Sanji was completely at odds on how to interpret that look. And suddenly he was struck by the resemblance that Zoro had with the old chef with that look splashed all across their features. Pride and sorrow. Love and shame. And even though every fibre in his body was yearning to dash across the Baratie and find the fleeing sonofabitch, he lingered a second longer, looking at those carved features.

Zeff gave a low, heavy sigh and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get out and do it. Whatever your heart is telling you to do. Just remember—don't hesitate, listen to your heart, what's in here," Zeff placed a closed fist above his chest and rapped it hard, "You'll know when your heart is speaking to you." He dug into his pocket and pulled out some keys, attached to a lanyard. "I picked them off the floor after all the ruckus." He tossed them over.

Sanji caught them in one hand, the cold, greasy metal pressed into his warm hand nicely and Sanji swallowed hard, "Chef—"

"_Get out!"ˆ_

He tried to smile, but couldn't. It was like he was saying his final goodbyes, here in this moment. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? How could he ever say goodbye to the Baratie, the only place that he had been able to call home. How could he leave the man he called father, the chefs he called brothers, his life behind? Whatever happened, he always had the Baratie and the people in it. But what could possibly happen to him? Wasn't one of the fundamental laws of nature and its fickle character that nothing extraordinary could happen to _him? _To everyone else except him?

The bullets of ideas and rhetorical questions which burned their footprints in his mind rushed through the gyri of his brain. He was numb, yet tingling with images and emotions, ideas and premonitions. His legs were so far away from him as he ran across the kitchen, he saw his fingers splayed out—contrasting against the stainless steel of the double doors which led into the restaurant proper. He saw his hands, faraway, as if belonging to another person, one who was happy and blissful in ignorance. He saw, as well, a brief shadowy image of himself. A reflection in the circular windows of the doors.

Sanji felt as if he was caught in slow motion but at the same time everything rushed at him at dizzying speed. He floated, rapidly across the Baratie's floor, rushing to the fish-mouth shaped entrance. His hands thrust out of their own volition. They did not belong to him, they belonged to another person. Everything was so unreal in the world, the nausea of existence overtook him and his head ached with the weight of being.

Then he collapsed into the arms of the dusky evening and the cold whisper of air embraced him eagerly, sucking him deep into the sultry heat of the incoming night and he realized that his loafers were pounding the pavement. He was alive and honed in on the prey that was Wanze, CP7 agent. The wispy white hair, the thickset body. The form in the distance was standing in front of an old, tinted-window buick. Wanze was angrily shaking his jacket, undoubtedly looking for the keys he so stupidly left on the floor of his beloved restaurant.

He screamed something, something incoherent, coherent. Even years later, when everything was still painfully clear, down to the devil lurking in the details, he was unable to remember what exactly he screamed that day. Sanji only remembered the blackness tracing its fingers across his body. And his rage; he remembered that.

Sanji really thought that he would come to a skidding halt right in front of Wanze's surprised, fearful face (But still smiling, let's not forget that one nasty fact.) He would come to a skidding halt, he would light up a cigarette, and he would throw a few harsh words around, mostly dealing with Wanze's majestic level of stupidity, and then depending on what happened….that would decide.

He really meant to think a little bit, maybe give Wanze a chance to back out and be let off with a warning. He really meant to. What _really_ happened was that his legs didn't stop running and Wanze's face got closer and closer and closer and then his hip rotated in its socket so far back that he felt his joint protesting among his stretching ligaments. Then he felt joy, such joy, as he delivered a roundhouse motherfucking kick to that self-conceited, pugnacious, prick that was Wanze, CP7 agent. Right in the gut.

"Get up, bitch. Get up and face me if you have the courage to do so," he demanded. The smoke wafting out into the night, the sun glinting off the edge of the buildings that cut into the horizon like so many rectangular teeth. The little light at the tip of his cigarette was a little sun, in of itself. "Get up before I kick you while you're down and so shame myself because God help me, I won't be able to stop myself."

"Goddamn you!" Wanze screeched, flailing and struggling to get up. Or Sanji assumed that was what he said. It was kind of hard to yell anything coherent at a respectable volume right after you had one of his feet slam into you. Wanze was wheezing and coughing, spitting dime-sized spots of blood onto the black pavement. In the darkness, they barely showed, and looked like holes drilled into the ground. Holes that would lead straight into hell. But then, hell would be a better place to be then Water 7, give or take a few weeks. Or days. At least down there you knew you were damned.

Wanze managed to gain his knees, and with a mighty heave, gained his feet as well. He stood there, not the steadiest, but standing just the same. It was all Sanji needed. His hips twisted, the move slick and flawless, propelling his leg like a stone in a sling. The point of his shiny loafer slammed into Wanze's thick side and threw him violently against the car, slamming his body against the rear-view mirror. Wanze screamed, the high-pitch sound causing Sanji an inward wince.

"_You'll be sorry for this!" _Wanze shrieked from the floor, struggling back up, his suit a mess and his face blotchy with red and purple spots of pure impotent fury. "_You'll be so fucking sorry for this you shit! You and Roronoa and every single piece of shit that tries to stop us!" _He was struggling for the door, clawing for the handle, obviously forgetting that it was locked.

"Shut your damn mouth! Sanji snarled, reaching down to seize the back of Wanze's suit, and hauling him. He flipped him around and threw him against the driver side of the junky, shady-as-fuck black sedan. Wanze might have fallen, but this time Sanji held him there, pressed up against the tinted window. Sanji could make out only the reflection of his movements in it.

"Shut up! Not so cocky now, are you fucker? Not so damn _righteous?_" He spat into the agent's florid face. His hands fisted tight into the folds of the shoddy suit and he began slamming the man into his own car, punctuating each slam as he snarled words of rage. "You…BAM…goddamn….BAM….piece…"

There was an ominous crack on that last one and the second slam after it shattered the driver seat's window. Wanze screeched and Sanji threw him one last time into the car and stepped back. He didn't want to get anywhere near that broken glass.

The agent struggled up, and lightning-quick, he thrust his hand through the broken window and clawed at the door lock. With a small click, the door swung open and Wanze swung open the door. Sanji lunged forward, reading Wanze's intentions a little late, meaning to stop Wanze from trying somehow to start his car or get inside and hole himself up in there. Wanze was jabbering , gibbering, even screeching some weird form of laughter and Sanji felt the goose flesh ripple up his spine.

"Get your ass back here!" He snapped, seizing the tails of Wanze's coat and yanking hard. Wanze screamed some negative and dived into the car. Sanji set his legs taut, braced himself with his long legs, and hauled hard on the fat form. The jacket which he had clutched in his hands ripped; it sounded like the low, ominous purring of a panther in the shadows. His grip slackened, and Wanze thrust forward excitedly. Sanji spat something foul and lunged forward to fill his fists with more material.

Wanze screamed triumphantly, just as Sanji clutched the seedy jacket and gave a mighty tug and hauled him out. To his horror, there was no resistance and gravity was overwhelming him before he even could think another thought. The breath was slammed out of him as he hit the pavement brutally. Wanze toppled on top of him with a high pitched giggle that Sanji positively loathed.

"_Die you son of a bitch!" _Wanze shrieked and Sanji felt a sharp, razor-like pain shoot down his side like venom. He roared from the raw pain which exploded along his stomach. He bucked hard and Wanze screamed again just as he was thrown unceremoniously off. There was a metallic clatter and Sanji, as he scrambled up, hand pressed to his shrieking side, saw a long knife resting on the pavement.

He recognized it immediately. An 18-inch Houchou knife. It was a monster—the blade sharpened to a lethal point in order to create the most delicate slivers of fish. It would go through human flesh like a fish through water. _Had Wanze stabbed him with it? _ He was disgusted at the sacrilege more than worried about the damage. That knife should never have been subjected to such an injustice. But right now he needed the knife on the other side of the world from him.

He lashed out and kicked the knife—it went sliding and hit the car's tire. Wanze screamed in triumph and lunged for it. Sanji screamed, "_No motherfucker_—" And pounced. He only barely noticed that his side was burning hot with pain. It had been removed from his mind entirely. Sanji snatched at the polished wooden handle and picked it up, eliciting another scream from Wanze. Wanze scrambled up and wailing, threw himself at Sanji.

What happened next, Sanji years later would still question whether it was pure instinct or deliberate will that caused him to raise the Houchou knife and slide it through Wanze's fat body. He couldn't remember thinking anything in those simple motions, but at the same time it was no surprise. When reality and the world had reasserted themselves, the fist which grasped the knife's handle was inches away from Wanze's gut. The knife had slipped in like if the solid mass of flesh and bone had been mere butter, warm and soft to the touch.

Wanze had frozen as soon as the Houchou had penetrated, his grin still there, but now it was a grimace. His hands were outstretched, as if still meaning to strangle Sanji, and they flopped down uselessly to his sides even as Sanji watched. He shuddered, once. But couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of death.

~0~

In the end he called the only person he could think could possible help him in such a situation. Gin arrived nearly fifteen minutes after Sanji called, jogging into the parking lot with his grey sweatpants and dragon-emblazoned jacket. The dark had risen fully by then and only the ghastly orange of streetlights dimly illuminated the parking lot. The Baratie's kitchen was still fully lighted and Sanji, if he paused his breathing and stilled the thumping of his heart, could faintly hear the sounds of rock music and the chefs laughing and the clatter of dishes. The chef's cars were still scattered around the parking lot.

Sanji leaned against the car, smoking. Cigarette butts littered his feet, the black ash scraped across the pavement. He couldn't believe the chefs were still in the kitchen, performing their duties as they did every night before. An eternity had passed for him between the time he had come charging out of the Baratie and the time he had thrust the Houchou knife through Wanze's belly and so murdered him. But it had been only about half an hour. Impossible to believe.

His mind wanted to drift off in an effort to evade the consequences of his actions. Relentlessly he dragged it back, like a greyhound straining on its leash. He was calm and cool inside, his gut was ice, but his mind wasn't there. Sanji felt as if it had seeped through his fingertips the moment he couldn't tell if he had meant to impale Wanze on the Houchou or not. Had it been self-defense or deliberate murder?

There was no escape from the life he had just taken here in this desolate inner-city parking lot. He felt like crying, but felt as if there was nothing so vulnerable as tears left in his body. He had killed a man.

"Oy! Sanji, what's up?" The voice called out, and Sanji turned to see Gin, walking towards him. Sanji had not wanted to call anyone he really cared about. He didn't know how they would react with what he needed help with. He didn't want them to be involved in what he had done and what he needed to do. But Gin, Gin owed him one.

"Gin," Sanji greeted him coldly. Not because he had a problem with Gin, but because it felt like he was made of ice, "I'm here to cash in that blank check you offered me. I'm sorry to do it so soon, but present circumstances leave me no choice."

The other man nodded, "Sanji, I owe you my life. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you to repay my debt."

Sanji leaned down to take off his shoe, and slipping his hand in it, quickly cleared off the jagged edges of window glass which remained. He swung open the door and wiped off the glass from the driver's seat. "Hop in Gin, we're going for a cruise."

Gin swung into the sedan, "Let's ride then."

Sanji took out the keys he still had and easily located the car's. The engine revved on and he flicked the headlights on before pulling out into the street. There was no other way to say it.

"I've got a dead man in the trunk of the car. I'm afraid I killed him. I need a place to put the remains so that they won't immediately attract attention."

"You've got to be fucking with me," Gin said.

"I expected you'd say that," Sanji said tersely, "But I'm the furthest I can possibly be from kidding. I need you to help me. What say you?" He drove into the night, not really aiming for anything but to get past the city limit and into the more rural areas. He really didn't mean to drive past Water 7's encircling wall, emblazoned with gang tags and philosophical graffiti. He remembered the beginning of it all. That fateful day in which his and Zoro's destinies had collided like two cosmic pool balls on the pool table of some insane god.

He remembered Nami in the passenger side of his Lexus, shrinking back from the dark of Water 7. He remembered the sad pathetic sight of the dilapidated apartments and trash littering the streets. He remembered pressing his foot onto the accelerator and whisking themselves out of the place—like a soap bubble floating by, refusing to be touched or defamed. Well, now his little bubble of idyllic thought had been popped and he better slow down and let his ride cruise by the neighborhood because he belonged here now.

Gin was staring at him, "Sanji, don't fucking joke with me. Are you serious or not?"

Sanji reached down and squeezed side where Wanze had attempted to pierce him with the Houchou but had only scraped him pretty bad. His hand came away wet. He held it up, not looking at Gin, palm up. The streetlights lit up the car for a second and Sanji could see, out of the corner of his eye, the ink which filled his palm.

"How bad are ya?" Gin asked, "Someone tried to do ya in my friend. But I guess you got the best of him in the end."

"CP7 Agent, Wanze," Sanji remarked, almost casually, "He knew too much for him to live. I had to kill him."

Gin threw back his head and let out harsh laughter, "Thinking like that becomes second nature to you here in Water 7. I like you more and more Sanji—you were born on the wrong side of these walls. I can even believe that there's a dead man in this car."

"You best believe it," Sanji muttered, "It's why I called you—where can I dump him?"

"Well," Gin's eyes sparkled, even in the dark, "I've dumped more than my share of corpses before. The Don was a man of men. Where you want to dump him depends on what kind of message you want to send. You want to publicize a threat—dump him in a boss's territory. Want to throw him CP9's face? Throw him in front of the police office with a note on his body."

"I just want to throw him somewhere where he won't be found soon," Sanji interrupted, "I don't have anything I want to say. Fuck, I killed him because I didn't want anything to be said."

"Too late," Gin laughed, "Sometimes I forget you're a virgin in this game. Half the city probably already knows—was there a lot of screaming."

Sanji paused for a moment and cursed Wanze's loud mouth, "Yeah, there was."

"There you go. Better to throw him somewhere where he'll shine."

"I don't anything about where he should go," Sanji snapped, "He can rot in the parking lot of a thrift store for all I care. This is why I called you Gin."

"All right, all right, no need to lose your cool," Gin said soothingly, "Tell you what—this is his car right? Let me handle it. I'll drop you off where you want to go and then I'll take care of your dirty laundry."

"Will you? That sounds fucking great right now," he said, "I don't want to shove this onto you…but I'm exhausted."

"Don't worry, " Gin smiled, "I owe you one…and yeah, that's natural. Murder does that to you."

~0~

Wanze, Cipher Pol No. 7 Agent, private detective and government officer under the direction of Rob Lucchi was discovered around 3am in the morning. The Grand Line's Fire Department was summoned by witnesses and callers to 911 to the scene in response to a car which was burning. The scene was in the middle of the Galley-La's apartment's charcoaled remains. After the fire was completely extinguished, around 4:30am—the black husk of something remotely human was pulled from the locked trunk of the car. The body was identified as human and hours later, positively identified by dental records. Forensic specialists released a statement about the immense difficulty of finding anything in the burnt out hunk.

"Wanze's death means nothing to the forensic team," Jango drawled, "They'll never know more than what the body tells them. But here, the body can tell nothing. Wanze himself was a secret, his existence limited to the beige confines of a classified folder. The black sedan he drove has nothing attached. It's a blank slate."

Zoro nodded, absorbing the information in. The murder of Wanze, CP7 agent had been a sensation in the city and among the people. It had not been an explosion, but a slow building up of excitement which boded unwell. It was a mystery. Luckily, he had Jango.

The crooked cop smirked, "I heard them discussing it when they were in a meeting. But they don't know that there's a little potted plant in there that has a bug in it—and not the kind that has wings and flies. I put in there on a whim. And I picked up something about Wanze that might interest you. The cause of his death!"

"Spill it then," he growled, more annoyed than ever of Jango's tactless theatrics.

"In due time my good sir," Jango smiled, "I just wanted to pause and say that you've become quite the leader since Blackbeard ran away and Ace landed in the hospital. You've got a number of men following you."

It was true. Though Zoro couldn't have fathomed how the remnants of Blackbeard's thugs had coalesced around him and begun to reclaim the streets they lost—this time in his name. It had happened so quickly, so unnaturally natural—answering questions in matters of gun importations, shipping of cocaine, who to fuck with and who to strike a deal with…everything had fallen into his hands. And because he wanted to save his friends and come out strong, he had taken the reins of leadership in his inexperienced hands and run with them.

"Not by my wish," he said to Jango, "Not at all."

Jango smiled, "Well, I was thinking that I might raise my fee a little…"

Zoro tiredly contemplated drawing a _katana_ and decapitating Jango, then decided against it. He needed Jango right now, there wasn't any other sneaks in the police department that were as stupid and as enamored of money as Jango. He fixed an eye on Jango, "Your fee is as high as it should be. If you ask me again…you won't be leaving this place alive."

The cop smiled nervously, "All I ask—"

"I'll raise it, but this time only. It's a limited time offer."

"Well thank you my good-" Jango gushed.

"Get to the point," Zoro snapped, "I've got things to do."

Jango smirked again, "Well, I heard the main man himself say this to his secretary with the great legs—Kalifa! Man, I would love to do her…Well, anyway, I heard him say that he was going to look into the reason why Wanze was killed—that the guy he was sent to investigate must have done the deed! Sanji Blackleg was the man—"

Jango could have just stopped talking then and there. The sense of vertigo was palpable, intense—the nausea rose in his gut and throat and it was all be could do to grip reality with his clenched fists. The name of his beloved crossing the lips of that crooked cop's mouth was surreal—absolutely impossible. He felt as if someone had slung low in his gut and knocked the dimensions out of him. It was horrible, the blackness that swallowed him alive like a living beast.

What he had most dreaded had come to past like a doomed prophecy. Zoro could only stare sightlessly at the man in front of him as he watched his world collapse and dematerialize on impact. Somehow Lucchi (God damn him!) had found the soft patch in front of his jugular and had struck. But Sanji….Sanji had thrown himself completely and utterly into the chaos! Sanji should never have done anything, so much as looked Wanze the wrong way no matter what Wanze had said! Wanze was an idiot, alive. He was a buffoon, a fool—it was obvious that he had been given the dirty jobs. But, dead—oh, dead he was going to haunt them all. The smell of his stinking carcass had brought him more attention than he ever got alive and Lucchi had stopped _and looked_. The reverberations of his death were going to rock them all to their very foundations, starting with him.

~0~


End file.

One Piece, Angst, Romance