French Affairs

16th Dec - Home

Concerning the names of the protagonists: I guess I sort of mixed them up. What I mean is I mixed German and English names up a little, because I used the ones I like better.
 

So, please don’t kill me for using Ruffy instead of Luffy / Lysop instead of Usop.

The other names should be the English ones, if not—please forgive me. I’m sure you will be able to figure who’s who. Everyone except for Sanji and Zoro is not that important anyways. XD
 

French Affairs - Chapter 1 - Home
 

16th December
 

He didn’t remember why exactly he had chosen a flight to head home to England instead of joining his comrades on their vessel—but now he knew that he should have chosen at least a different time for his flight.

Why? The nice elderly women in the seats next to his had been, well, unnerving him. Mercilessly. With growing intensity. He didn’t care whether he looked like a mother-in-law’s dream or like a proper young gentleman, except for the hair or not. All he had wanted was to be left alone on his 12 hour flight. His fault had been his gentle efforts to brush the curious ladies’ questions off. They had loved it and insisted on getting to know him. Oh, how he hated small talk.

Now, a felt eternity after the first polite nodding towards the ladies, he felt even more exhausted than after combat training—or an actual sea battle.
 

“I still think you should consider visiting me and my niece during Christmas holidays. She would love it. Have I told you that she makes the best Christmas pudding you will ever get to taste?” one of the two women chattered on. She somehow reminded him of Miss Marple from the movies. She was old, a little chubby, and had a sympathic yet pinched and somehow doglike face.

The only difference between the two of them was that he liked to watch Miss Marple, in marked contrast to paying attention to this particular lady.

“Oh, Penny, my dear! What a lovely idea. Mister Roronoa, you absolutely cannot decline her invitation, can you?” the other woman asked. She was very lean, very wrinkled and her hair had an awful shade of violet but who was Zoro to judge her for it? After all, his own hair was as green as moss in the shadows of a forest.

“I’m very sorry, ladies, but I will have to disappoint you. I won’t be free over the holidays,” he tried to politely reject the invitation. Seriously, he had plenty of time to kill during the next days—but Christmas was sacred. Not because of a holy event the church had made up but because it was the first Christmas in six years he came home to celebrate with his family and friends. It was the first Christmas since he had joined the Royal Navy that he had applied for a vacation without getting rejected. It was his first and last vacation as a marine. It was about time he got rid of this farce and its ‘for Queen and Country’ attitude he never had shared wholeheartedly.
 

Sure, he had enjoyed being a marine—until he had become notorious. He had become known as the “Demon Cutter” and the “Pirate Hunter” . It had occurred during his second period on a naval vessel when they had actually happened to be around when a really huge pirate ship had appeared and its crew had attacked a cargo and passenger vessel. The chances to witness a capture and to be able to intervene were almost none. Nonetheless it had come about at a harbour where he and his comrades-in-arms had been destined to go on shore leave. They had defeated the pirates after a fight, which couldn’t have been more made up by any screenwriter. Man on man fights, raw, brutal, and claiming their toll in blood. Nothing like modern sea battle should have been like.

But thinking about it he remembered that it hadn’t been a real battle out on the sea. The marines had just cast anchor and gotten ready to leave the ship when the capture had taken place. All former plans had been thrown over and they had pulled on their combat suits and close-quarters weapons in no time and snuck onto the ship. As much as a corps of marines could possibly sneak somewhere. They had swum over to the vessel and climbed up the anchor and, when no pirates had been visible, thrown boat hooks over from the pier onto the railing and crawled over. It had been a quick and almost soundless move until the first encounters had started. Zoro had enjoyed wielding his swords almost too much and had come down on the pirates like a furious demon raging for blood and mayhem. Even so in his opinion slaughtering people and fighting them properly were two very different animals. Just when there had been no opponents left to fight he had realized that his comrades, and even some of the passengers, had been watching him torn between being in awe or at least stricken with awe.
 

When he had arrived back at his home base in Tokyo a very much not amused person had awaited him. His commodore. Smoker. The one in charge to have an eye on him and to make sure nothing bad would happen to him or, in the worst case, would be caused by him. It had bothered Zoro ever since, that his best friend’s grandfather and his own foster-grandfather, so to speak, Vice Admiral Sir Garp D. Monkey, had always had the last word in almost everything he had done during the last fifteen years. Of course Ruffy had pleaded the old geezer to have an eye on his brother—but it had been hell for Zoro to have one of the higher ups watching him night and day.

Zoro had been seconded from low job to low job and had still found ways to entertain himself in picking small fights, larger fights, and disobeying orders as a matter of principle.

As all else failed the Royal Navy’s higher ups had begun to promote him and now he was a Colour Sergeant without doing anything to deserve it. All he had been busy with had been packing his stuff and moving from quarter to quarter and from office to office. He had been honoured for being a shame. Smoker had made no secret of disliking him and finally decided that his honours had needed to be paid back.

That moment had been where the fun had begun. The Commodore had pulled some favours and managed to get Zoro out of the base and out of his way by sending him to an iaido dojo so he would learn to control his aggression, improve his sword fighting skills, and to find his inner balance. It had been more than a surprise to Zoro, since Smoker had always seemed to dislike seeing him using such an old-fashioned weapon. At that moment Zoro had started realising that it had advantages too to have one of the higher ups watching over him.

At the dojo Zoro had thought of the exercises as a joke in the beginning. Drawing his swords just to sheathe them again had seemed pointless to him but when he had realised that the required sense of perfection in every movement helped him in calming down and clearing his mind he had grown very fond of this martial art. Furthermore he had learned some nice tricks he could use in real swordfights.

He had even been allowed to compete in the national tournaments, although it had cost him his entire summer vacation entitlement. Smoker had made his point in denying him vacation and threatening him by promising him a dishonourable discharge if he dared to disobey him ever again.

Luckily Zoro felt no need to disobey his superior’s orders this time and, as much as it pained him to admit it, he wouldn’t have disobeyed him again even without liking his “punishment”. Just the sound of dishonourable discharge still made him sick—not because he cared but because Ruffy cared. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint his best friend by being sent to prison. Not that it had been very likely to happen but Smoker had reassured him that he was capable of finding the skeletons in Zoro’s closet and he would not hesitate to look for them if necessary. Zoro knew that if the commodore ever decided to really open said closet the skeletons in there would literally jump him. Though most of his “slips” should have been time-barred by now but you never knew what Smoker would do with such information.
 

In the end his presence in the iaido scene had had to culminate at last, even without him directly disobeying his superior’s orders. He had picked a fight out of his league—with the world kendo champion Mihawk Dracule—during one of his rare visits to Japan and had gotten routed by him. Utterly. Without any evidence to hold against him, since Zoro still refused to tell the truth about the incident after the tournament to his superiors. He had nearly died, that much was obvious, and still held the scar across his chest, which the older man had given him in a more or less illegal swordfight with the real thing in an empty room inside the arena, not the lousy bamboo-swords he had to use during the tournaments, very dear. It reminded him of his own arrogance, his weakness. Talking about it would zero his chances of getting back at Mihawk. At last if they wouldn’t be sent to the same prison, what was most likely the case.

His injuries had been his own fault but, after all, Zoro had not been caught disobeying his orders and the option of getting him imprisoned had therefore never occurred. Officially, he had been judged the victim of some lunatic’s rampage. It was annoying the hell out of him, since he had become the second best swordfighter behind Mihawk—and gotten his ass kicked by some “lunatic”? Never! But luckily no one had seemed to be able to put two and two together. Idiots.

Now he was finally heading home to his friends who would welcome him back with arms wide open. At least Ruffy’s tons of letters said so. Zoro couldn’t wait to meet him.
 

“How about New Year’s Eve? Would it be possible to come visit us then, maybe?” Miss Marple interrupted his train of thoughts and smiled at him. A fierce shake and the mumbling voice of their pilot promised him salvation and he directed his attention back at the old ladies who were still waiting for an answer. It was time to drop the travesty and to be himself again.

“Well, thank you for you offer but no. To be honest, I can’t wait to get rid of you and leave this bloody plane. Hope you enjoyed your flight,” he said calmly and unfastened his seatbelt. The stunned women looked at him in disbelief.

“I told you so many earrings could never be a good sign and this green hair… Such a rude person,” the other woman started raving and Zoro rolled his eyes. He left them without looking back or meeting them again at the baggage reclaim. Thank goodness.

What bothered him was the carelessness the airport staff handled his sword case with. It was clearly visible deposited on the transport band next to the other luggage. Luckily no one seemed interested in going on a rampage with his katanas.

When he had packed up his luggage, and likewise his entire life with it, he turned to leave for the arrival hall where hopefully Ruffy would wait for him.
 

He did not. Ruffy already waited inside the customs official’s office where he entertained them with happy chatter and a taste of his bouncy ball nature.

“Zoooorrrooo!” he screamed and jumped at his friend to pull him in a tight embrace. “You sure took your time coming here. Did you get lost again?” the younger man asked. Zoro surveyed him closely and tried to recognize the man before his eyes. The 16 year old kid had grown and become a 22 year old adolescent. At last the small scar underneath his left eye and the strawhat he wore no matter what proved the smiling guy in front of Zoro truly was his best friend—not that he had doubted it for one millisecond. His charisma was unique.

“I guess I did. Damn, Ruffy, you should have sent me a photo or anything to prepare myself for finding my little brother all grown up,” he smiled and returned the embrace. It was strange to actually have family around again. Sure, Ace had visited him once on the base when he had been hospitalized due to Mihawk’s “slipping of his hand”, but that had been three years ago and his big brother hadn’t had a chance to come to Tokyo again, since he was the midshipman of Captain Whitebeard, a well known marine, who was assumed to be a pirate himself, and Commodore Smoker hadn’t allowed them to anchor longer than necessary to replace stocks. They hadn’t been this touchy-feely back then because Zoro’s entire chest had been a big wound and, after all, Ace was far away from being as clingy as Ruffy—because the boy insisted on behaving like a monkey and clambering Zoro all the time. He realized that he still wasn’t able to refuse Ruffy anything.
 

“You think I’m grown up?” the boy asked and grinned at him. “You should take a look at yourself! I’m sure all our friends will faint as soon as they see you.”

Zoro didn’t understand. He looked the same as he always did: like he had been on a vacation. His hair was about an inch long and his skin was as tanned as always. He even wore the same tight, white, long-sleeved cotton shirt, black leather pants and the combat boots he had already preferred before he had joined the Royal Navy. The only difference was the size of his clothing since he had built up some muscles but his midnight blue coat did a great job in hiding them for the most part.

“What do you mean? I haven’t changed that much,” he replied and plucked Ruffy from his chest. The grin on the younger one’s face grew even wider while he explained wildly waving his hands: “But you look like the incredible huge Hulk to me, you even match in colour.”

“You make it sound like I was as big as a house. Can’t you at least use a more decent metaphor?” Zoro frowned. “Now get me the hell out of here. I’m as tired as can be.”

“All right, please follow me, Sir.” Ruffy started walking out of the hall in front of the customs official’s office while he happily went on chatting: “I’ll take you home so you can say ‘hi’ to the others and sleep a little before you leave again tomorrow.”

Zoro froze in place. Why would he want to leave again? Where to? He had planned on eating a little, sleeping for at least 12 hours, and then visiting his old kendo dojo just to tell his former sensei about his technical improvement according to his iaido influences. None of this included any sort of leaving again. At least not during the next week—and especially not tomorrow.

The international kendo tournament was going to take place in Paris on December 23rd and since he was one of the contestants he would have to fly there. But that was days ahead and his friends had promised to come with him to celebrate Christmas and one of his friend’s birthday. Tony Chopper would turn 18 on Christmas Eve.

“What do you mean ‘leave again’?” he asked just to make sure he hadn’t misheard his friend’s words. He had accustomed to listening to real English pretty quickly and even speaking worked without any too odd Japanese pronunciation but you never knew. They left the arrival hall behind and Ruffy waved for a taxi.
 

After getting on the vehicle he asked again after not getting an immediate answer. “Ruffy, why would I leave again?”

“Ahm, you see, it’s just…,” the younger one hemmed and hawed. Zoro raised an eyebrow. Ruffy was seldom ever out of words. This had to be pretty serious.

“You know, I still have to work for the next few days until Christmas Eve, Nami and the others too, so I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to stay home alone.”

“That sounds not all too disturbing so far. Where is the catch?” Zoro insisted further and leaned back into his seat. Ruffy was so heart-warmingly concerned he couldn’t do much else than to smile at him.

“I asked a friend of mine if you could stay with him until the tournament takes place. You’ll adore him—he’s the best chef in the entire world! He promised we can come over and eat at his restaurant while we’re in Paris! This is going to be SO AWESOME! He can cook lots of meat and cake and everything…”

“Wow, wow, hold it!” Zoro interrupted Ruffy harshly. The younger man fell silent and looked at him, still having glistening stars in his eyes. Then he realized Zoro’s glowering and gulped hard.

“Are you telling me you’re intending to send me to France right away? To some random French guy I don’t even know? Additionally, I am supposed to stay at his place for an entire week while I could just stay at home for the first time in years? You can’t be serious.”

Obviously Ruffy was serious and Zoro knew precisely that he had meant no harm by setting this deal with his friend in motion but nonetheless it bothered Zoro to be handled like a toy without an own opinion. He wouldn’t have minded being home alone. Trying to regain his coolness again he clenched his fists and stared out of the taxi’s window without seeing anything. The driver glanced at them concernedly but didn’t butt in.
 

“We thought you would enjoy taking a vacation. Sanji was the only one of us who was able to apply for some days off and he didn’t mind so we thought you would be happy to go there and… you know, go sightseeing with him or let him cook for you or whatever. I’m sorry,” Ruffy explained crestfallen. “Sanji really is a nice guy.”

“And obviously stupid enough to take leave for my sake without knowing how charming I can be every now and then. You really think you want to do this to him?” Unfortunately Zoro wasn’t blessed with eloquence when it came to apologizing for his own sulking. Regardless, Ruffy’s face brightened up a little.

“He is not some random guy. He is quite tough and I’m sure you’ll get along—and even if not he should be able to handle you.”

“A tough cookie , eh? Well then, at your desire. At least it won’t get boring.” The smile on his baby brother’s face was almost blinding and once again Zoro knew why he couldn’t refuse him. It felt just way too good to see him happy.

“When will the take-off be?” he questioned and looked at his watch. It was 3 p. m. on December 16th . Eight days left until Christmas Eve.

“Tomorrow morning at 4 a. m., though we’ll have to be there about two hours before departure because of you swords. I didn’t know all the stuff they wanted to know so there’ll be a security check.”

Zoro nodded. So his plans of sleeping had become a pleasure deferred.
 

The taxi stopped in front of a neat terraced house in the East End of London. He finally was back home. When he looked outside the car window again he realized that it was snowing. He smiled in bliss. Even though he was an adult he couldn’t help being happy watching the snow falling. He loved white Christmas despite the fact that it was corny as hell.

“Welcome home,” Ruffy said and got off the car. Zoro followed him and when the two men entered the house Zoro slipped out of his shoes and searched the entrance hall for slippers. He found several pairs and looked at them with a puzzled expression. There were far more than should have been there. At least there had only been four of them when he had left. The smallest pair was pink and obviously belonged to Chopper. The youngster was so into this colour, it was almost creepy. The second pair was of bright red and belonged to Ruffy, as Zoro remembered. There were blue ones he had never seen before, his own green ones he took out of the shelf and put on, two pairs of different shades of orange coloured slippers which belonged to Ace and, most likely, Nami, Lysop’s brown ones could be seen, and last but not least the white slippers of grandpa Garp.

“The blue ones are whose?” Zoro asked and looked at Ruffy. “Sanji’s of course.”

“Of course, how could I not have known?” he asked ironically, stepped inside the living room.

The changes in there really caught him by surprise. The home he had left had been a place stuffed with dark and massive wooden furniture, walls painted in dark green and red or covered with indescribably ugly tapestries.

Now it was different. Very different and sure as hell Nami had been the mastermind behind it. He didn’t recognise any of the furniture. Everything was held mostly in blond wood, the massive wall unit was replaced by small and modern wall cabinets while the walls had been painted in a nice shade of beige. Now they even had curtains in front of the windows.

Thinking about it, even the entrance hall was not as dark as it had used to be. It didn’t feel like being home to him but being a guest in someone else’s home. But he knew that this feeling would go away within a couple of days. Because home was where his family was and not depending on some old shabby furniture.
 

He slumped on the red leather couch and sighed comfortably.

“Being home again feels a little strange but nice. So tell me, Ruffy, Nami and Chopper have been living here since Ace and I moved out—how am I supposed to live here again? I am supposed to live here again, am I not?”

“Hell yeah! You are my brother after all. Nami will move in with me and you can have your old room back. Chopper occupies grandpa’s old study and I am sure he would love to have you right next door. He’s still afraid of nasty weather, you know?”

“I see.” Zoro simply said. “Anyway, it’s nice to see you happy with Nami. First I couldn’t believe it that you really have fallen for that bitch… I mean woman. Maybe she has become a little nicer over the years. What else is there to know? As you know, my time is limited so hit me!”

“Nothing much. But I’ve been dying to hear your stories. Grandpa had lots of fun with you and I want to know why,” Ruffy replied and hopped on the couch next to Zoro. He sat there in gleeful anticipation, cross-legged and with glowing eyes. “You better get going or I’ll have to order from a food delivery service and you will have to pay for it.”

“Your threats don’t impress me very much. I’m thinking about where to begin. Six years sure are long.” Zoro made himself comfortable, snuggled down into the sofa cushions and crossed his arms behind his head.

“The most important thing I’ve learned, I guess, is that crime doesn’t pay. Mostly. I never considered myself a criminal, but I guess to a certain degree I was indeed. Do you remember when Ace and I sneaked out at night and didn’t return until dawn? We were out there committing assault and battery.” Ruffy seemed surprised but Zoro didn’t pay any mind to it. “I’m glad you didn’t know. We were not the best ‘heroes’ a kid could look up to. Back then we thought of ourselves as sort of Batmen—defending the weaker kids against the bullies.” Ruffy snickered when he heard the comparison and interrupted: “But Batman did it out of hatred and not to defend anyone.”

“Not really. He had much more reasoning behind his doings, revenge for instance, and we were just the same. The only difference was that we had a little more wishful thinking to it and less fancy outfits. When heard about bullies beating the kids to a pulp we waited until they were sure nothing would ever happen to them—and then we hit them twice as hard and thrice as much as they had done unto the kids. Your grandpa saw right through us but never caught us red-handed. When we got old enough to face criminal responsibility your grandpa did what he could to avoid prosecution for us. Ace was the first who got sent to the Royal Navy and I followed one year later. We wanted you to think of us as your smart brothers who had passed their exams at college and got into the Royal Navy—not as the brutes we truly were. Have been. Whatever, I’m very grateful to Garp that he scared the shit out of Ace and me that he would personally castrate us if we were stupid enough to get you involved into our criminal stunts.” Zoro started laughing at Ruffy’s stunned expression and ruffled through his hair. “I guess we did a good job then.”

“You are no brutes!” Ruffy asserted and rose to his feet. “Neither you nor Ace! I don’t want to hear such bullshit from you ever again! Taking the law into one’s own hands might not be the best solution but it is definitely better than sitting around and doing nothing. I remember that I admired those avengers I had heard of back then.”

“That’s exactly the point. We would have had to face hell and consequences if you ever had learned about us being those ‘avengers’.”

“That’s so boring. I wish I could have fought with you,” Ruffy sulked and frowned at Zoro.

“You don’t want to understand what I’m talking about, do you?” Zoro rose to his feet as well and grabbed the phone. “Didn’t we talk about food delivery before? It’s my treat.”

“Yay! Let’s order from the Baratié!” Ruffy jubilated and jumped onto his brother’s back. Zoro didn’t know if he should be annoyed at being abused as a bouncy castle or not.

“Do we have a menu? Or at least a telephone number?” he asked and looked at Ruffy’s face over his shoulder.

“We don’t need a menu we need lots of meat!” his attachment replied and started to enter the telephone number into the phone without letting go of his brother or taking a break in talking. “Make it enough so Nami and the guy’s can join us for dinner. Don’t forget that Chopper is a vegetarian.”

“Why don’t you just talk to them then?” Zoro asked and removed his hand from the portable phone. Ruffy pushed the dial button and waited for the receiver to pick up. When the call was answered Zoro was a little surprised to hear Ruffy’s order.

“Hi, there. This is Ruffy, how are you? Fine, that’s great. Listen, I’d like to order the same as usual plus one. Oh, that’s very nice—I love surprises. See you later. Thanks a lot. Bye.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Order.”

“I know, smartass. This must be your favourite restaurant when they already know everything about your order just from hearing your name. What was its name again? Bara-whatever? I’m sure I’ve heard it before.” It was on the tip of Zoro’s tongue but he couldn’t quite grasp his memory of the restaurant. He was sure Ruffy had mentioned it several times in his letters but he couldn’t put it in a context right away.

“Naturally you have. It’s where I met Sanji and it belongs to his father.”

“Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that you met a cook at a restaurant and made friends with him, but doesn’t he live in France?”

“He’s the owner of the French equivalent. Besides, you don’t say cook but chef. He’s a little touchy about that.”

“Whatever. Now get off of me, please. I need to take a shower before everyone gets home.” The instant Ruffy got off of him the doorbell rang. The younger man hurried over and opened. The way he hailed when a quiet voice greeted him made Zoro realize that not just his sleep but his shower had ended up in smoke as well.
 

The young man who entered the living room only seconds later stopped dead when his gaze met Zoro’s. He was a pretty cute teenage boy with hazel hair and puppy eyes. Zoro could have sworn that he had never met him before in his entire life until he became aware of the pink slippers he wore.

“Chopper?” he asked cautiously and a slow smile of recognition spread on his lips. The baby boy he had known had turned into a taller baby boy and a doctor-to-be. He didn’t look like it at all. The shy nod he gave Zoro almost wasn’t visible.

“Hi, Zoro,” he said and Zoro wasn’t sure if the boy really tried to hide behind Ruffy or what else he could possibly be doing. It was a little awkward to see the happy kid he had known act so insecure, almost as if he was afraid of him. Finally, the boy’s lower lip started quivering and he burst into tears.

“I’ve missed you so much!” he snivelled and threw himself into Zoro’s arms.

“Thank goodness. I almost thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Zoro sighed.

“You would have deserved it. You not even talked to me once over the phone, stupid idiot!”

“I never called any of you so I guess you are right. I’m sorry. Do you think you can forgive me?”

“Don’t do it again and I will consider it an option,” Chopper chuckled and released Zoro after one last tight squeeze. He wiped his face dry and smiled at him. Ruffy started laughing and hopped on the couch again.

“Zoro treats us to dinner tonight,” he stated and looked all pleased. The doorbell rang again and Zoro decided that it was his turn to open the door this time since Chopper’s face was a real mess. When he opened it the real thing of a hulk of a man stood right in front of him balancing a huge, black, heavy looking Styrofoam box in his hands.

“Good evening, Sir. You ordered specials from Baratié and I am delighted to deliver these to you,” the man said. He had a fancy chin beard and wore a rope around his forehead.

“Patty!” Ruffy yelled and stormed out of the living room. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine. How do ya do?” the muscle-bound hunk replied and a huge smile appeared on his face. “Jeff told me ya gonna visit Sanji next week, aren’t ya? Tell him ‘hi’ from us.”

Zoro just raised an eyebrow. So this was the likes of Sanji. Congratulations Zoro, he thought to himself and slightly shook his head. The next week was getting more and more interesting. Sure, Zoro wasn’t the kind of guy to choose his friends by looks but he had been around brutish looking guys for long enough, at least in his opinion. But after all this Sanji was a friend of Ruffy so he simply had to be sufferable. He got startled out of his thoughts when this Patty-guy curiously surveyed him.

“You must be Zoro. Heard lots a stuff ‘bout ya.”

“I am and hopefully you only heard the good parts,” he replied but didn’t bother to offer him a hand. Patty didn’t seem to mind it. “Good enough stories to convince me to guess ya’ll be able to handle tha’ damn brat as from tomorrow.”

Zoro snorted in annoyance. The picture which formed around the name Sanji in his head didn’t please him very much: a huge muscled roughneck without any manners and being as much into eating as Ruffy.

“I hate France,” was all he stated and left for the bathroom, after handing his purse to Ruffy, to look for some painkillers. He felt a murderous headache drawing near and managed to entirely ignore the perplexed looks he could feel on his back.
 

When he returned to the living room a little later Nami and Lysop already were there and welcomed him just as affectionately as Ruffy and Chopper had done before. It surprised the marine a little that even the witch seemed truly happy to see him and actually hugged him. Lysop on the other hand had not changed at all. He still was a show-off. In fact, his stories had become more epic but greatly entertaining at the same time. Zoro enjoyed himself very much through the afternoon but soon felt a heavy jetlag. Ruffy had offered his bed to him for the night and he took the first chance to excuse himself and dropped into bed dead beat.

17th Dec - Surprise...

French Affairs – Chapter 2
 

Morning came all too early—in the middle of the night, so to speak. At 1:30 a. m. precisely Ruffy jumped into Zoro’s bed to wake him.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he chirped and Zoro wanted to strangle him right this instant for planning his departure for such a godforsaken time of the night.

“Leave me alone,“ he mumbled and pulled the pillow over his head. Maybe if he didn’t see Ruffy the young man wouldn’t see him, too. But his efforts were in vain.

“We have to leave in twenty minutes at most. You better get ready or I’ll take you to the airport wearing your pyjamas.”

“No need to threaten mankind with such a dreadful sight. I bet I look even worse than shit so leave me alone and tell this French dude he can do something useful with his days off.”

A sudden breeze of cool air waved over Zoro’s skin when Ruffy removed his blanket and insisted: “Don’t be a baby. You can sleep at his place when you get there. He’s really looking forward to meeting you and I want you to have a nice holiday. So get up and be a man.”

Totally annoyed Zoro cracked his eyes open just to stare sleepily into his friend’s grinning face.

“You are my punishment from a former life. I swear to God whatever I did I will never do it again.” Even being all tired as he was he could do nothing about getting infected by Ruffy’s bright mood. At least a little.

“Fine. Just a quick shower and I’ll be ready. Give me ten minutes.” Zoro got up and ruffled through Ruffy’s hair who stared at his bare chest with widened eyes.

“This scar is huge. Hell, Zoro, I knew you were injured pretty badly but that is really heavy shit.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. It’s just one more reason to be prejudiced against France,” Zoro answered and randomly grabbed some clothing out of his travel bag. He hadn’t even thought about unpacking it. Fortunately most of his clothes were either black or white so they would match his green haramaki no matter what he actually picked.
 

The hot shower brought a little life back into his body and he felt more and more awake. After getting dressed, brushing teeth, and shaving he almost looked human again. Luck had it that he had picked his favourite black leather pants and a white cashmere pullover. Heavens knew what cashmere was but he really liked the soft feeling of it on his skin.

“Hurry up, Zoro or I’ll leave without you!” he heard Ruffy’s voice through the bathroom door.

“What bullshit threat is that supposed to be?” he asked after opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. The younger man just grinned at him and handed his coat over.

“Just trying to be funny. You really should smile more often, it wouldn’t make you look so… old,” Ruffy teased and headed for the door. The taxi was already waiting for them.

“What do you mean ‘old’? I don’t look old! I’m just mature!” Zoro insisted and grabbed his travel bag and sword case before following his best friend outside.
 

The drive to the airport was heavenly quiet and Zoro drifted off to sleep again. He did not awake until Ruffy shook his shoulder violently and called out for him.

“Zoro, man, we have to get off here! You hear me? Hurry up and get out of the car.”

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered as a response and did as he was told.

Luggage check-in went without the least bit of complications and no one seemed especially interested in him carrying weapons around, so Zoro and Ruffy stood in front of the gateway at 2.45 a. m.; dreadfully early and without anything specific to do until departure.
 

It was awfully quiet around them since no one in his right mind would be up at this godforsaken time. Zoro didn’t know what to do or to say. He didn’t want to leave England and he didn’t want Ruffy to leave him now. Crossing his arms in front of his chest and shifting from one leg to the other he finally found his voice again.

“I guess you’ll leave now, won’t you?” he asked his little brother and looked at him.

“Yes, I will. We’ll meet again in one week at Sanji’s restaurant. He doesn’t need to come pick us up from the airport,” Ruffy replied and smiled widely. It still was far beyond Zoro how he managed to be in high spirits the entire time.
 

“Now that I think of it: How am I supposed to recognize him? What does he look like?” he asked and wondered how stupid he could be travelling to a foreign country and meeting Mr. X without any concrete idea at all.

“He’s about your height and blonde, I think, and he cooks fantastic meat!” Ruffy chirped and started drooling just from remembering the taste of it. “I’m sure he will recognize you. I showed him some pictures when he was at our place. Oh, and Chopper wanted me to give this to you.”
 

Ruffy started rummaging in his coat’s pockets and finally held a small wrapped packet towards Zoro. The latter raised an eyebrow and took it. It was very light and the bonbon-coloured gift wrap made him smile.

“May I open it? Or is it an early Christmas gift?” he asked and tried to guess what could be inside. It was flat, made no sound while shaking and didn’t feel like a book. So what could it actually be?

“I think it’s a late birthday gift or something like that. He just mumbled about giving it to you before he passed out last night.”

“It’s too bad I had no chance to say goodbye to him this morning.”

“It’s not like you’re going to die. He will survive it as well. Now open it! I want to know what it is,” Ruffy pushed and nervously wiggled around.

The marine surveyed the gift once more before he carefully removed the fancy paper. A wide smile spread on his lips when he saw what the gift was.
 

“What is it?” Ruffy asked now even more curious than before. Zoro just handed the gift over so he could see for himself.

Ruffy burst out laughing.

“I didn’t know there even was such an awful picture of us,” Zoro commented his little brother’s outburst and took the picture back from him. It was a picture from six years ago. The occasion it had been taken on had been Zoro’s farewell party and all of them really looked wasted on it, since the party had lasted for almost two days. But nonetheless it was clearly visible how much fun they had had back then. Zoro assumed that Garp had been the one taking it, since everyone else was on it. Zoro and Chopper, who just had been eleven years old then, were curled up sleeping on the couch, Ruffy was sleeping on Lysop’s chest and slobbering on his shirt, Nami was sleeping curled up on an armchair, and even a picture of Ace was put in place so all of them were actually on it. The living room itself looked like a bomb raid had taken place in it: empty bottles lay everywhere, leftovers of food stuck in the weirdest places, and the Christmas tree stood there out of square with some smashed baubles underneath.
 

In the lower left corner the word nakama was written in romaji and even in scrawly kanji. Chopper was one of the best friends anybody could hope for. Also the kid most likely was the kindest and smartest one among them.

“Chopper really is priceless,” Ruffy managed to pant and wiped his tears from his face. “Man, this was really funny back then.”

Zoro carefully put the frame into his coat’s pocket, since he had no hand luggage, and swiftly hugged his little brother for farewell.

“It’s about time for boarding. Take care of yourself!” he said and wanted to leave but Ruffy held him back. “I want to give you something, too,” he stated and started rummaging in his jacket’s pockets again.

“Keep your old candy for yourself, I don’t want it,” Zoro teased but waited for what was about to come.
 

“I don’t have anything special.” Ruffy really seemed disappointed but then an idea showed on his face. He started searching his trousers’ pockets and finally found a Pirate King handkerchief. It was one of the merchandise articles he had gotten for free since he was the main actor in the kids series. He acted the Pirate King himself and the series was quite famous in Britain. Zoro had watched some episodes of it while he had been hospitalized and when he had laughed so hard his scar had reopened he had been forbidden to watch TV for the rest of his stay. Ruffy handed the handkerchief to him with a solemn look on his face. “I hope you like it.”

“It’s my pleasure. This Pirate King is one of my favourite heroes. He reminds me of someone I hold dear.” He twinkled at his brother and left.
 

There were four seats in a row . Holding three possibilities for decent people to be placed next to him, so he could enjoy the flight and get another snatch of sleep. There were various rows to increase these possibilities. So why the hell did he have to sit next to a young mother and her children? The little baby wasn’t a bother since it slept soundly in his baby carrier. The problem was the annoying kindergartener, who thought it was fun to bother him.

“Mommy, why is his hair green?” he asked and curiously surveyed Zoro.

“I don’t know, honey. Why don’t you ask him?” his mother replied and Zoro felt the urge to scream when the little boy did exactly this.

“Why do you have green hair?” he asked and climbed over his seat to be closer to Zoro.

“I was born like this.”

“You wanna play with me?”

“I’m sorry but I am tired.”

“So?”

“No.”

The boy seemed bothered by Zoro’s decision and briefly stretched out his tongue without his mother noticing. This brat was starting to annoy the hell out of Zoro before they had even taken off. He decided to ignore it and replicate the little baby’s actions. Sleeping.
 

He had drifted off to a dreamless state of being half awake until he felt something cool and wet soaking his pullover. When he cracked one eye open to survey his chest he found a splatter of pink yoghurt on it.

He took a deep breath and looked over to the boy with an expressionless face.

“Yours?” he asked and caught the attention of the boy’s mother. The kid just smirked at him.

“Oh, dear. I’m truly sorry, Sir. His hand must have slipped,” she apologized and started searching her handbag for tissues or a napkin.

“You should teach him to apologize himself or he will turn into an unbearable brat, you know?” Zoro replied and pulled the handkerchief Ruffy had given him out of his pocket. It pained him a little to use it for such a trivial matter but it was machine washable so he didn’t see a real problem in using it.

“No, don’t!” the boy shrieked and grabbed his handkerchief before Zoro even knew what was going on. Some of the other passengers turned to see what the ruckus was about. The boy had sounded like Zoro was about to kill him any moment.

“It’s the Pirate King’s! You can’t dirty it!” he yelled on and tore further at the fabric. Zoro shook him off easily and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Listen, boy,” he said calmly and with a mesmerizing humming in his voice. “You spilled your yoghurt on me. I have to get rid of the stain and since neither you nor I have any other napkins I will have to use this. Think about what you do before you dirty the stuff of others.” He wiped the yoghurt off his pullover and the boy burst out in tears. It didn’t make Zoro happy to make children cry but he hated nothing more than unable parents. This boy’s mother was a paramount example of ‘how to raise nonviable brats’. She instantly tried to soothe her son and told him he had done nothing wrong and the man hadn’t meant to do any harm. In fact, the man got royally pissed about it.
 

“Madam, I’m sure I meant what I said. Even though your son is still a kid he should learn what is right and what is wrong.”

“It was an accident!” she screamed at him and pulled her son into a tight embrace. Zoro could clearly see the boy blush and shook his head.

“Would you be so kind as to ask him, if it really was? He is about five years old, I guess, so he will have to face society soon enough. At school there will be no mother to defend him, so let him take responsibility. I’m not going to do anything to him. I just want to know if it was an accident—from him.”

“How dare you? Yes he is five years old and he is a child! This is none of your….” she left her sentence unfinished when the boy struggled out of her grasp. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked.

The boy turned to face Zoro with a wary look.

“You won’t scold me?”

“Of course, I won’t. An accident is no one’s fault but the one causing it has to apologize so the other one won’t be sad or angry, you know?” The little boy looked at him wide eyed and Zoro could tell that he was thinking about his words. To make it easier to understand he said: “Imagine your favourite toy, okay?” The boy nodded. “Good. Now imagine I broke it by accident. You would be sad, wouldn’t you? Or you would be angry at me?” The little boy frowned at him and obviously got the point. “Fine. That is how I feel.” He leaned back in his chair and let the words settle in. It took a while for the boy to come to a conclusion and he briefly glanced at his mother for support. She was utterly dumbfounded and could only stare at Zoro.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said. “It was an accident.”

Zoro turned to face him again and smiled at him.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

The boy smiled back at him and then turned away saying: “Mommy, I gotta pee.”

Zoro couldn’t help himself but to smile sardonically at the young mother, who looked at him with a strange expression. Then the baby started whingeing.

“Oh, no,” she sighed and looked at Zoro again. “Mister lecturer, would you be so kind as to take care of the baby?”

Zoro stared at her in horror. He? And a baby? No way in hell would he ever… But even before he could finish his train of thought he found the wincing creature put in his arms and a baby bottle in his hand.

“Thanks a lot,” the mother said and hurried over to the toilet with her son.
 

Zoro shot the baby a quizzical look before he shifted it around until it lay a little more comfortable in his arms. He surveyed the bottle and the screaming baby again until a woman seated in the row before him turned and snapped: “Now put that bottle inside of his mouth, will you? The poor thing is hungry!”

He instantly obeyed the command and the instant the teat touched the baby’s lips it started suckling and went silent. What a relief.

Zoro felt like the idiot of the year. It had barely been 24 hours since he had gotten on the plane to leave Japan and now he felt even worse than during six years of military service without having a break. Even worse than after Mihawk had almost killed him. Worse beyond compare.

Luckily this day was just about to begin so he would soon find out that there were many pits of hell left for him to experience.

The first encounter occurred after the baby’s meal. Luckily the mother had been back rather quickly to finish her task. Unfortunately the baby had decided to not want to let Zoro escape unscathed and burped the instant his mother lifted him out of Zoro’s arms but not without turning his head into the marine’s direction. The pullover really was little more than one piece of trash now—and it smelled like it.
 

The little boy laughed at Zoro’s unnerved sigh and his mother got out of her way to be apologizing over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I’ll pay for dry cleaning.”

“Don’t worry over it. It’s just yoghurt, milk, and baby slobber.”

“But I’m really embarrassed.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it was fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Can’t you leave me alone? I said it was fine, so don’t bother me any longer!” He looked at the boy, who was completely shocked by his sudden outburst, so he added a polite “Please” and remained silent for the rest of the flight. His murderous headache had been coming back again.
 

Once again he was more than glad when the pilot announced their imminent landing. His nap hadn’t been very restorative but rather exhausting and made him feel even more wiped out than before. His mood was touching the bottom. The poor idiot, who had agreed to bother with him, would have one hell of a day at least, that much was certain.
 

No one around him talked to him and he was able to pick up his travel bag and sword case without any further incidents. When he stepped into the arrival hall there were lots of people happily picking up their friends and families. Nobody seemed to be waiting for him. Nobody seemed to even realize he was there. Especially nobody who looked the least bit like the guy he had imagined to come pick him up. It was depressing. Infuriating. Tiring. He snorted.

“Monsieur Roronoa?” a mellowing voice asked and Zoro turned to face its owner.

“What the hell?” he wondered when his eyes met the calm look of the greyish-blue eyes of a blonde man. The guy looked so perfectly French it nearly crept Zoro out. Furthermore, he was definitely not the optical mishap Zoro had expected. Ruffy’s guess about the height had been right and the man had a normal lean build, nothing spectacular, except for the fact that he wore cheekbone long blonde hair, a dark blonde goatee and a black beret, which was right down the last detail. It was sickening.

“Good morning. My name is Sanji,” the man said in perfect French and politely smiling at him. Zoro hated it and was fed up to the back teeth just from hearing these two sentences. Sure, this was France so the people here were supposed to speak French but he refused to adapt. Unwaveringly. He hated speaking French. He was able to understand almost anything and he could read and write it, because his mother had wanted him to and when she had died he had held on to learning it to cherish her memory. But he would never ever speak the language of his good for nothing father of his own free will. Never.

“Listen, fucker. I don’t care if you are able to speak French, Chinese, German, whatever language the hell you want. I am English, you are supposed to be English as well, so don’t mess with me. I already had a thrilling day and am about to run rampage right this instant.”

“You really must be Zoro, although I thought you would look more like Ruffy. Well, I can’t say that it is a pleasure to meet you,” Sanji replied entirely unimpressed. “Whatever atomic disasters you’ve gotten your hair into don’t take it out on me. Besides, green doesn’t suit you, arsehole.”
 

In his own way Zoro was impressed by the sharp reply and decided to not pick a fight during the first five minutes he was in his least favourite country. He remained silent. His host surveyed him once more and shrugged his shoulders saying: “Well, I guess I have no other option than taking you home. Now hurry I have other things to do than standing around and watching you growing old.”

“What did you mean by saying you thought I would look more like Ruffy? Are you stupid?” Oops, there it had slipped again. His tongue really was a nasty little bitch.

Sanji left and did neither bother looking if he actually followed or not, nor did he slow down his pace when he heard Zoro’s questions. He simply waved him to follow and left the building.

“Prick,” Zoro mumbled and followed him.
 

When he finally reached him out in the cold, Sanji had already lit up a cigarette and gave him an answer thought he had almost forgotten that he had asked something.

“Ruffy showed me some pictures of him and his brothers. He is so into you I assumed you were his real brother, not the adopted uncle or whatever you are. Sorry for that.”

“I’m not adopted. I’m a friend of his and Ace. Besides, we are both not his real brothers, dimwit. His grandfather was our guardian and that’s all the legal connection there is. Nonetheless we feel like brothers.”

“That’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me stuff like this.”

“I just don’t intend to let you jump to stupid conclusions.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.”

“That’s just the way I am.”

“Awful? I couldn’t agree more,” Sanji answered bluntly and flicked his cigarette butt into an ashtray while walking past it.
 

They stopped in front of a black Audi SUV and Zoro had to admit that he was shocked. He liked fancy cars and a similar car to this one was one of his idle wishes but unfortunately far from being affordable any time near, since he had greater dreams to deal with at the moment—like becoming the best swordfighter in the world. He put his travel bag and sword case into the trunk and stepped around to the left side to hop into the passenger seat.

“Hey, brainiac. We have right-hand traffic here in France,” Sanji said and

demonstratively stepped behind him dangling his key in front of his face. “Or do you want to drive?”

“No. I’ve heard about French traffic. It’s a miracle your car is still in one piece,” he replied and walked around the car to get on it on the right side. He heard the rear door of the car being shut and the driver’s door a moment later. The smug grin of his chauffeur welcomed him after hopping in himself.

“This week will be no fun, I guess,” he murmured without realizing it.

“Don’t be so pessimistic. Maybe it’ll ease you to know that I won’t be having any fun either.”

“Can’t get myself to feel sorry about that.” He felt the piercing glance of the other man on his body and looked up at him again. It surprised Zoro to see him genuinely smiling.

“I know precisely what you need: A couple of hours of sleep and breakfast, right? You look like shit,” he said and started the engine. “Maybe a shower wouldn’t hurt either. You somehow smell… odd.”

“I wonder why,” Zoro weakly responded and rolled his eyes. “Try having a baby’s thrown up mother’s milk on your clothing without smelling weird and we can talk about it again. Now give me a break and shut up.”
 

Zoro was glad his chauffeur fulfilled his wish and didn’t reply anything. The blonde man simply confined himself to grinning smugly out of the windscreen. Zoro sunk deeper into the passenger seat and tried to enjoy the ride. He needed to calm down and bring himself to being more of a bearable person even though his host didn’t seem all too bothered by Zoro’s getting abusive towards him.
 

Indulging in his new found way to pass time, namely watching Sanji driving, since he had little else to do other than that because it still was dark outside so he couldn’t take a satisfying look at the snow covered city he had to admit that it was very calming. Taking a quick glance at the clock he learned that it just was quarter to eight in the morning. Therefore, it was way too early to be up and expected to be talking. So he took his time surveying the blonde man again out of the corner of his eye in the dim shine of the traffic lights. The bare half hour the ride took provided Zoro with enough information about the blonde to make him come to a conclusion: Sanji looked like a narcissus, a modern dandy at least. The only words fitting to describe him appearing in Zoro’s mind were arrogant and haughty. Since he had taken off his coat before the ride Zoro could see how poshly he was dressed in his white button-down shirt and black slacks. This nouveau riche poser even wore a tie. Who in hell wore a tie at eight in the morning without a really good reason? Like attending a funeral or the likes of it.
 

Moments later Zoro found himself in a neat neighbourhood as far as he was able to tell in the still lingering darkness around him. The hectic pace he had anticipated to be omnipresent in a big city like Paris simply wasn’t there. Everything was muffled in a typically snowy Christmas atmosphere.

“Where the hell are we? It’s quiet enough to be a cemetery,” he complained provocatively and slammed the door shut behind him after getting off the car.

“It is, mould-head. I live right next to the Cimetière Montmartre. If you turn your head right you can see it,” Sanji explained a little annoyed and passed him by to unlock the door of a rather plain six story brick building.

“Sixth floor, I hope you don’t mind using the stairs. There’s no elevator,” he added and entered the building. Zoro didn’t bother answering and simply followed him upstairs, his travel bag over his shoulder and sword case in hand.
 

Even the staircase was neat and extraordinarily tidy just like the neighbourhood. Still something about its architecture didn’t fit with Zoro’s sense of aesthetics. As plain as the outside had been, the inside was quite the opposite. Everything was covered in flowers, scrollwork, ornaments and dark wood. Zoro had heard that Paris was practically covered in art nouveau but that didn’t make him like it.
 

When he entered the apartment he was dumbfounded. It was huge, that much he had expected judging by the cook’s appearance, but it was already huge at the first look. The entrance hall bended to the left and blended straight on into the open living room, which was furnished in white and cream colours and illuminated in an indirect wave of orange light.

To his right Zoro found the kitchen, which wasn’t worth more than a quick look to him. It was polished enough to make an operation inside and held in country stile with a huge arched window ahead. Whoever had designed this was a weirdo in Zoro’s opinion. But it somehow fitted the cook.
 

“Hey, rich boy, where is my room?” Zoro asked and slumped his bag on the floor.

“Envious, aren’t we? Your room is the one across the living room. Go to sleep, no, take a shower first, then go to sleep and when you awake breakfast will be ready. The bathroom is the first door to your left, towels are prepositioned, my bedroom is the second door. Don’t mix them up,” Sanji commanded and stepped into the kitchen.
 

Zoro simply raised his middle finger, grabbed his bag and strolled over to his room. He didn’t even bother switching on the light but simply picked some random clothes out of his bag as well as his wash bag and headed for the bathroom. Crossing the living room again he realised that whoever had designed this apartment had a fancy for huge arched windows.
 

Entering the bathroom he experienced a moment when he thanked God for sending him here to this annoying prick and his bathing temple. He had never seen something like this before and once again it somehow didn’t fit the rest of the apartment. Nonetheless it was amazing. The wall where the mirror was hung above a white washbasin on a dark wooden cabinet was clad with slate while the other walls were clad in natural stone. It should have been dark and suppressing inside but right above the bathtub and next to the shower was an arched window again that eased the atmosphere inside the room.

But the best of all was that—for the moment—it was all his. The first real bathroom which deserved this term he had seen in years. The small bathroom he had at home was not even half of its size. For a second he hesitated but his need for a bath won over his pride and he went over to the kitchen to ask Sanji if he could take one.
 

“Hey, Goldilocks. May I take a bath?”

“Whatever it takes to shut you up, I’m fine with it. If you want some foam or other bath additives just look inside the bathroom cabinet. There should be a small variety of different scents,” was the answer he received before Sanji paused in cutting vegetables and raised his head to look at him. “I didn’t offer you anything to drink yet, I’m sorry. Do you want a cup of tea? Coffee? Anything else?”

“Black tea would be nice. What the hell are you doing anyway?” Zoro leaned against the door frame and raised an eyebrow. He had never heard of a breakfast including this huge amount of vegetables before.

“I’m preparing lunch because I figured you will most likely sleep until noon or longer so it would be dull to come up with breakfast then. Now go chose your bubbles I’ll bring your tea in a minute.”

Well, for a prick he was not that bad of a guy, Zoro thought and headed for the bathroom again.
 

It took the cook longer than Zoro had thought it would to prepare the tea so he decided to run his bath and picked out a random bottle of foam he found inside the cabinet. A moment later the air was filled with the festive stench of cinnamon.

Since his host still took his time preparing his tea Zoro also decided not to wait for him any longer but to already get in the hot water. Soothed by the slight waving of the still running water and its calming smell he relaxed quite quick and drifted off to sleep. He didn’t even hear the door being opened when Sanji finally entered the bathroom.
 

--- End Chapter two -

17th Dec - Paris

French Affairs – Chapter 3
 

17th December - Paris
 

Sanji smiled when he found his guest snoring soundly in his bathtub. He knew that jetlag could be a real bitch and didn’t mind Zoro’s attitude towards him for the moment. Considering the time lag between England and Japan as well as the lag between England and France, Zoro had to be about eight hours ahead of his time and thus lacking sleep. Everyone would be a little irritated by that, Sanji guessed.
 

He put the cup down on the rear corner of the bathtub so Zoro wouldn’t accidentally push it over the edge in his sleep, turned the water off and then left again to finish his preparations for lunch. When his thoughts started drifting off into nowhere with growing intensity Sanji left the kitchen for the rooftop garden and deeply inhaled the icy air to clear his mind and stay awake. The chill made him shiver and revived his spirits a little since his own night had been way too short as well. Nightshift at his restaurant had ended at midnight and after finishing settlement and preparing the handing over to his father, who had agreed to stand in as a replacement at the restaurant during Sanji’s vacation while his own restaurant in England would be closed from today onwards due to vacation until Christmas, it had almost been time for picking Jeff up from the airport. All he had been able to do before leaving home again for the airport had been taking a shower and changing his clothes.
 

Sanji had known from the start that his father would nag at him during the ride from the airport to the restaurant, during the handing over, and at every given chance until he would finally leave again. It was their way of communication and Sanji had come to accept it. Sort of.

His gaze wandered up to the sky and he decided that it looked like it would snow again anytime near. A tiny smile appeared on his lips. He loved snow. He always had.

The telephone rang and he sighed in annoyance. There could only be one person to call him at this time of the day. He flicked the butt of his spent cigarette into an ashtray and went to pick up the phone.
 

“Allô?” he answered the call and sat down on an armchair in his living room.

“Sanji! It’s me!” an overjoyed voice screamed into the receiver.

“Hey, Ruffy. How are you?” A wave of relieve flooded through Sanji’s chest when he heard the voice of his friend. He had expected his father to call and reprehend him further but Ruffy was a very welcome surprise.

“Fine, fine. How’s Zoro? See, he wasn’t in high spirits when I told him about visiting you yesterday. And this morning…”

“What do you mean ‘you told him yesterday’?” Sanji interrupted his friend. “Don’t mess with me and tell me you planned his stay at my place as a surprise and kicked him out right after he arrived home without him knowing.”

“Well…,” Ruffy mumbled and fell silent for some moments. “I thought this way he didn’t have to unpack his luggage and repack it later on.”

“You are a moron. No wonder he is in such a bad mood.”

“But he wasn’t when we parted at the airport,” Ruffy tried to defend himself. Sanji could tell that the younger one hated being told-off, but he couldn’t help doing it.

“You could have sent him over tomorrow as well without any trouble at all. Maybe that would have been the best way to handle it for all of us. But, well, since he’s already here there’s nothing we can do about it, can we?”

“You could cook for him to cheer him up! I’m sure he’s going to love it just as much as I do!” Ruffy suggested happily and full of anticipation. Sanji smiled.

“I’ll cook for you as well, as soon as you are here. It’s nice to see your faith in my skills, Ruffy.” Sanji had to suppress a yawn but didn’t succeed thoroughly. Snuggling down in the armchair he asked: “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“He didn’t pick on you that much, did he?” Ruffy questioned worriedly. “You don’t hate him already, right?”

“Already, eh? He is a bloody pain in the ass but I don’t hate him. I decided on letting him sleep his bad mood over and then restart our relationship—though I highly doubt that I will ever befriend this rude and foulmouthed brother of yours.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but aren’t you the same? As far as I remember I was shocked when I heard your colourful cursing for the first time,” the younger one laughed and Sanji joined him when he realized the truth in his friend’s words.

“Right. I guess we are equals there. Tell me, is there anything else I should know in dealing with him? Soft spots, no-go areas, things like that?”

“Hmmm,” Ruffy mused. “I’ll be damned if I know. After all I just met him for the first time in six years. But there is one thing I can tell you: Don’t touch his swords. Never.”

“Swords?” that word caught Sanji’s attention.

“Sharp, Japanese swords. Actually they are called katana. He’s a swordfighter—didn’t you listen to me during the last few years? He’s the kendo-brother.”

“So he was serious about running rampage. Whew. What a mess. I thought kendo is practiced with wooden swords?”

“Of course it is, silly. Else his opponents would all be history afterwards. He told us some stuff about some crazy shit called iaido, where you perform drawing swords with the real deal. I don’t know. You better ask him yourself. Oh, and he is notorious for his bad sense of direction, though I don’t think he will get lost in your apartment. I gotta go now. Breakfast is calling! See you.”

Without waiting for a reply Ruffy had hung up and Sanji stared at the receiver in his hand.

“What a crazy guy,” he murmured smiling and placed the phone on the table. He was already drifting off to sleep when a sudden thought came to his mind. The green haired idiot was still in the bathroom. What if he drowned sleeping? That would be one hell of bad news to tell Ruffy.

Forcing his eyes open again he stood up and paced over to the bathroom once again and after knocking at the door he asked: “Hey, spinach-head. Have you drowned yet?”

No reply. He knocked again and when silence followed once more his pulse increased and he hastily opened the door.

Just to find a still sleeping retard in his bathtub.
 

“I’m too old for this shit,” me muttered and went on louder, “Wake up, froggy. You are crumpled enough to be an eyesore.”

“Leave me alone,” was the grunted response and Zoro waved a hand to shoo him away.

“No way. Get up and move your arse to your bed. You can go on sleeping there.”

With a deep moan Zoro stretched his limbs and rose to his feet, completely unaffected by his state of being naked. Sanji could have bet that he was still half-asleep. He handed a bath towel to his guest while he surveyed his physical appearance.

Zoro had an impressive build but not muscular enough to be considered a pure muscleman while his tan highlighted his defined muscles very much to his advantage. But the large scar across his chest spoke a different language than an aesthetic one. It was quite the opposite of Zoro’s admittedly handsome face and disturbed the picture a little since it reached from his left collarbone across his chest to his right side as if he had almost been cut in half.

Maybe he would ask him about that later. Now he had to manoeuvre him into his bed so he could take a nap himself. When Zoro made no attempts to grab the bath towel Sanji wrapped it around his hips and snorted: “Would you finally be so kind as to move your tanned arse out of the tub? I don’t have all day to watch you sleeping while standing around like a fool.”
 

Surprisingly it worked and Zoro stepped out of the water and let himself be escorted to his bedroom where he crawled into bed and fell asleep again almost the same instant.

“Don’t you want to get dressed? At least towelled down?” Sanji asked but it was in vain. “Whatever. I don’t care.” He left Zoro sleeping and closed the door behind him after exiting the room. This day was so not what he had expected it to be it was annoying. Tiredly he rubbed his face and came to the conclusion that it was high time for him to go to sleep himself. Finally.
 

The shutting sound of the door woke Sanji up. For several seconds he couldn’t quite grasp what was wrong in the picture but when he realized it, he bolted up to a seat. Why the hell would his door be shut? He was living alone, had no lover and no cleaner. Then it hit him.

“This is not happening,” he murmured and brushed his bangs out of his face before he got up. Luckily he preferred sleeping dressed in boxers so he was re-dressed in no time.

“Zoro?” he called not really expecting an answer. He didn’t get one. “Damn it!” he cursed under his breath while he hurried over to Zoro’s room to see if the idiot really had left. He had.

“What now?” Running after him had no point to it since he could have gone pretty much everywhere. What a great way to start the day. Again. He searched his jeans’ pockets for his cigarettes and his mobile to call Ruffy. Maybe that mould-head had a mobile so he could call him to ask where to he had wandered off. Bastard.

Walking over to the terrace he flicked through his mobile’s contacts and finally held it up to his ear while he waited for someone to pick it up. It rang several times and gave him enough time to light up and take a deep drag of his cigarette. It had started snowing lazily and the thick white snowflakes danced around him while he waited.

“Sanji! What’s up?” Ruffy answered the call happily chirping.

“The idiot has run off,” he stated.

“Did you have a fight?”

“No. I just put him to bed a while ago, took a nap myself and woke up to the shutting of the door,” Sanji explained matter-of-factly and took another drag. “Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”

A slight humming was audible on the other side of the phone and made the fitting image of Ruffy, who was thinking really hard, pop into Sanji’s mind.

“Did he take his swords with him?” he finally asked and Sanji frowned.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“For training. Did he or did he not?”

Sanji flicked the spent butt of his cigarette into the ashtray and went back inside his apartment. “Give me a second I’ll go look. For what precisely?”

“A black case. If it is there I have absolutely no clue where he could have gone.”

“And if it is missing?” Sanji asked hoping for a street name and a number as an answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe a park or something.”

“Oh great. Since there is only one park in Paris it will be a piece of cake to find him.”

“That’s really great, Sanji!” Ruffy replied enthusiastically and Sanji rolled his eyes.

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

“Does he have a mobile so I could call him?”

“That’s a brilliant idea!”

“So he has one,” Sanji chased up and got the only possible answer there was.

“No.”

“You are not really a help here, dude.” It was sickening. From all the men in the world he had to get a big baby playing with lethal weapons, which was running through the streets of Paris without anyone to watch him. Amazing.

“You could track him down,” Ruffy suggested fueled by new fighting spirit.

“I’ll hunt him down and kick some sense into the shit he calls brains.”

“Sounds fun. Can we do that again when I am there too?”

“Depends on how much I will leave over of him after I found him.”

Ruffy just laughed and Sanji walked over to the wardrobe, pulled on his jacket and slipped into his boots.

“I’m looking forward to it,” the younger boy finally stated and hung up after a quick “Take care”.

Slowly but surely Sanji came to the conclusion the “D.” in Ruffy D. Monkey’s name was short for diffuse, difficult, or at least different. Very different. He grabbed his keys and left the apartment.
 

Fortunately, and rather surprisingly, it was quite easy to follow Zoro’s track. His green hair stood out so much that at least every other asked person, be it in a café or simply passing by, recognized him and was able to point Sanji a direction where to look for him next but not before he had been flirting with the beautiful ladies for a while.

When he reached the Parc de Monceau and found a cluster of people gathered around something he couldn’t see yet, he was positive about having found the swordsman. What he hadn’t expected was the show he got to witness.

The swordsman stood there with closed eyes, three swords gracing his left hip, and didn’t move for several seconds. He didn’t even shiver although his upper body was exposed to the chilly weather and melted snow was running over it. The only thing giving away his state of being alive was his steady breathing and the clearly visible tension in his muscles.

When he finally moved it was truly amazing for Sanji how fast and perfectly elegant he drew his katana, all three of them, placing a white one in his mouth, and struck at invisible opponents with deadly precision before he sheathed his swords again. How he managed to hold a sword in his mouth without looking absolutely ridiculous was beyond Sanji. Actually it was quite the opposite and he looked truly intimidating. In a way.
 

Not willing to waste any more time waiting for his guest to finish whatever it was called he was doing, he decided to make short work of it and threw a snowball at him.

The fact that Zoro simply cut the snowball with one of his swords without even opening his eyes was not in the slightest impressing Sanji. Never.

“Hey, curly-brow,” said swordsman growled slowly opening his eyes and glaring at Sanji. “Are you looking for a fight?”

Well, fuck it, Sanji was impressed. But that didn’t keep him from responding: “You think you could beat me with your chopsticks?”

“I don’t need them for you, loudmouth,” Zoro stated and demonstratively sheathed his swords.

The people between them took a step back due to the almost touchable tension between the two men to escape the direct danger-zone and forming a path for Sanji to approach Zoro. Sanji pulled his cigarettes and a lighter out of his pockets and lit up. Exhaling the smoke he said: “Well, bring it on then. I haven’t had a good fight in like forever.”
 

Zoro was fast, that much was sure when he suddenly appeared right in front of Sanji and lashed for his face but he wasn’t fast enough to hit Sanji, who dodged it. Startled yelps erupted from the crowd and they hurried aside to get out of reach.

Sanji dropped to his knees and rushed Zoro off his feet out of the same motion. The swordsman crashed on the floor but was up again in not time and coming after Sanji again. This time he hit him for real and buried his fist deep inside his stomach. Sanji gasped for air but kicked Zoro into his stomach the same instant, then recoiled and let a spin-kick against his jaw follow. It was a quite hard blow but it didn’t rush the swordsman off his feet as Sanji had expected. All he got was dirt on Zoro’s face and his only reaction was turning his head back to face Sanji again while a slight grin spread on his lips.
 

“Looks like you are not just talk, shit-cook. Why are you here anyway?” he asked. Sanji could see his muscles relax a little so he guessed the fight was over for now.

“I assumed you wouldn’t be capable of finding home again. Ruffy told me about your unfathomably bad sense of direction.”

Zoro just shrugged his shoulders and said: “Everyone has a handicap. Yours is style mine is directions. So what?”

“I won’t discuss my style with a gorilla like you. You should be grateful I came to pick you up, moron. Do you even know where I live? How stupid can you be leaving without a mobile on you, with no sense of direction, and without speaking French?”

Accused idiot had turned away and started putting on his snow-covered clothes. He didn’t bother answering immediately. Only when he had finished dressing and put his swords back into his case he finally turned around again and said coldly: “Fits perfectly for a gorilla so I don’t see a problem, smartypants. Furthermore I guess, as far as I’m capable of thinking without your help, since you are already here you may just as well take me home and you will never know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up here.”

“Well, whatever. You must be hungry,” Sanji said and turned to leave. He knew he had unintentionally insulted Zoro in a way he took personal; and offering food was kind of a substitute for apologizing. It relieved him to notice that Zoro was following him.
 

Nightfall had already set in when they arrived back home. The uncomfortable silence lingering between the two men had eaten away at Sanji for the entire time their walk had taken. He still didn’t know why Zoro made him so mad. It was not his style to snap this easily and insult his guests he was supposed to befriend. He made a decision.
 

After taking off his coat and shoes he took a deep breath and turned to face Zoro.

“Listen,… I’m sorry,” he said and watched the swordsman raise an eyebrow.

“What for exactly?” he asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“For being a bad host,” Sanji replied.

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” Zoro replied and stepped past him to head for his room.

“Excuse me? I’m trying to apologize here!” he snapped again.

“No, you are not,” was the simple reply of his guest before he slammed the door shut behind his back. Sanji stood there dumbfounded. What the hell was going on inside this jackass’s mind? Usually the words “I’m sorry” marked an apology. He didn’t get it.
 

A little while later, after he had brewed some fresh tea and cooked dinner, he knocked at Zoro’s door.

“Dinner is ready so stop pouting and get your arse out here,” he said and waited for a reply. The door was opened and he was faced with a smug grin.

“I didn’t pout, I was meditating. But I’m glad to see you finally galvanized your bony arse to offer me some food for real this time.”

Sanji sighed: “If the answer to the question why I agreed to have you here should ever cross your path—grab it and show it to me.”
 

--- End Chapter three --

17th Dec - Dinner

French Affairs - Chapter 4
 

17th December - Dinner
 

Obviously the shit-cook was not that bad at his job as Zoro would have guessed. Dinner was great and he appreciated it. Silently. Still he could see Sanji’s surveying gaze lingering on him while he ate.

“What is it?” he finally asked and paused in eating. “You’ve been staring at me for far too long to go unnoticed.”

The blonde smiled and rested his chin in his palm. “You know, the way people eat food shows how much they like it—and you do like it.”

“I wouldn’t say that. The shit you call food tastes almost like junk they fed us at the navy galley,” Zoro replied in a plain voice. Never would he admit something that would actually boost the ego of the other man.

Sanji’s smile grew even wider since he obviously saw right through his weasel-words.

“I’m delighted you really like it. Even though it doesn’t matter, since I know precisely that I am capable of making people moan in pleasure while eating my food.”

To some extend it annoyed Zoro how self-confident the blonde cook seemed, on the other hand it made him feel rather comfortable to have someone around who wasn’t scared of his appearance, his attitude or his reputation. As much as he hated to admit it, he sort of liked the cook already.

“So? Why didn’t you do it this time?” Zoro asked teasingly. Sanji just laughed at his question before he replied: “I didn’t want to make you an addict right from the start.”

In a weird way this reasoning made sense to Zoro, despite the fact that he didn’t believe in all this ‘orgasmic-cuisine’-bullshit Sanji had been babbling about. He continued eating and found himself savouring the incredible taste of his meal once again. Maybe this prick of a braggart wasn’t that far away from the truth.
 

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Sanji suddenly asked and moved over to the counter to get a cup from the cabinet.

“Nah, don’t you have something with a little more content?”

The cook was surprised by his request, that much was obvious, but didn’t refuse it.

“I can offer you hot spiced wine, normal wine, met, beer, rum, whatever you want.”

This wide range of booze was too much of a choice for Zoro’s taste and he voiced his grievance in saying: “My arse, can’t you keep the options down to gorilla standards? Just give me whatever is nearest in sight.”

“You really are a simpleton, aren’t you?” Sanji teased and opened the fridge to grab a bottle of rum. In Zoro’s opinion, the bottle didn’t suit him. He looked more like one of those cocktail sippers who liked fancy cocktail umbrellas and shit.

“Do you want ice?” he asked placing the bottle and a glass in front of Zoro.

“No, don’t spoil me so much. It’s annoying.”

“You are the first to complain,” Sanji stated and sat down opposite to Zoro again with his cup of tea in hands. His expression was absentminded and for a moment Zoro wondered what his host was thinking about, but lost interest just as quickly. It wasn’t his business after all.

He opened the bottle of rum and poured half a glass. For a brief moment he examined the brown liquid spilling against the glass before he downed it in one.

“It’s amazing that you can drink that stuff. Personally, I think it is disgusting to drink it pure.”

“Still you have it around.”

“I use it for baking and cooking,” Sanji explained and sipped his tea before he abruptly changed the topic. “Didn’t you freeze training outside?” he asked and now Zoro knew what had bothered him. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

“Not really. I like the sensation of snow on my skin. And it keeps me from sweating.”

“Apropos sweating: Don’t you think you should go and take a shower?”

That was a nice way to phrase it, Zoro thought.

“Are you telling me I stink?” he asked provocatively and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I didn’t say that,” Sanji tried to defend himself.

“You are good at not saying things. Just as you did before by not apologizing properly,” Zoro stated and poured another glass of rum.

“What do you mean by that? I said I was sorry and that’s the point of an apology.”

“Yes, but you have never been a bad host—as far as this term is fitting. I don’t know why you felt the need to apologize for it instead of apologizing for being a prick.” Zoro felt like he had become the great sage during the last 24 hours. Lecturing children and shit-cooks was about to become a new habit of his and he didn’t even know why it still bothered him that the moron hadn’t apologized for thinking of him as a complete retard. Usually he didn’t care about what people thought of him, but in this case he did. Most likely because Sanji was supposed to become a “friend” of his for Ruffy’s sake.
 

Sanji didn’t answer immediately but firmly returned Zoro’s look as if he could read the answer to his questions in his eyes. When he finally answered, he smirked.

“It bothers you,” he stated. Zoro simply raised an eyebrow in question.

“Prove me wrong in thinking you are all brawn and no brains and I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness.”

“That sounds promising. Better wipe your floor or you will get dirty, silkworm.”

“Silkworm?” Sanji asked. “I don’t get that.”

“That Figures. It is your name, dumbass. ‘Sanji’ means ‘silkworm’ in Japanese,” Zoro explained and an evil smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Is speaking Japanese enough of a proof for me to be not plain stupid?” His question fell on deaf ears since Sanji had started to rant: “What the blazes? Jeff, you bastard! I’ll kick his ass for naming me ‘silkworm’! Bloody bugger!”

Sanji went on and on swearing and spilled a highly amusing flood of similarly colourful curses and ideas of how to make Jeff suffer for choosing a worm for his namesake. Zoro couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing. This was priceless.

“Stop laughing, arsehole!” Sanji claimed and rose to his feet to clear the table. “This is not funny, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Zoro chuckled and finally cleared his throat before he forced an indifferent expression on his face. “What was the main question before we got off the subject again?”

“I don’t know. Must have been some trivial shit,” Sanji replied and started washing the dishes. Meanwhile Zoro downed his rum and watched the blonde man closely. It was like seeing him for the first time. Naturally, he looked not much different from before on the outside, except for him wearing jeans and a blue hoody sweater, but now that Zoro had had at least a glimpse on his inside he started to think his first impression of him over. Maybe he wasn’t that much of an unbearable prick and Ruffy had been right to choose him as a friend. Maybe.
 

“Tell me, silkworm…” The dishcloth flew towards him and interrupted his speech, since he had to dodge it. “Nice try,” he commented the wet stain on the wall behind his head and picked the wet cloth from the table.

“Shut up, greenfinch,” Sanji bellowed and stretched out his hand to demand the cloth back. Zoro handed the cloth to him and continued his sentence where he had been interrupted: “What are your plans for entertaining me during the next week?”

Sanji nodded in appreciation when he grabbed the dishcloth and continued washing the dishes while he answered Zoro’s question.

“Nothing specific. I didn’t schedule your stay since I didn’t know if you already had plans of your own. We could go sightseeing if you want to, or you could help me trim the apartment and the restaurant for Christmas Eve—which means setting up three Christmas trees tomorrow, or I could leave you alone so you can do whatever the hell you please. It’s up to you.”

“Why do you need three Christmas trees?” Zoro asked confused. One was okay, two were understandable, since he had said he would need one for the restaurant, but three were beyond Zoro.

“Don’t let me forget that I need to buy pink Christmas glitter balls as well,” Sanji mused not really answering Zoro’s question.

“Pink Christmas glitter balls?” This was getting ridiculous.

“Of course. Don’t furrow your brows so much or you will get wrinkles,” Sanji advised and explained: “The pink Christmas balls are for Chopper’s birthday celebration. That’s why I need a third tree as well. Since we can’t celebrate in the main guestroom of the Baratié I’m going to prepare a separate guestroom there for dinner. Do you get it now?”

Having finished washing the dishes, Sanji dried his hands on a tea towel, grabbed his cup of tea and waved Zoro to follow him to the living room.

“Of course, I do. I’m not stupid,” Zoro answered, grabbed the bottle of rum and his glass and followed the chef, who looked at him with a doubting expression.

“What? Stop treating me like a moron,” Zoro bickered and slumped on the couch before he said: “How the hell am I supposed to know what you are planning for Chopper’s birthday? I’m not a bloody clairvoyant.”

“That’s true. So, what now? Are you keen on having some sort of a ‘let’s get to know each other’-small talk or what?”
 

The look he shot at Sanji told volumes and the blonde cracked a smile. There was no need to say a single word to make him understand that Zoro hated nothing more than his suggestion.

“You can pick a DVD if you find any to your liking and watch it,” Sanji said and opened the door of his entertainment cabinet while he passed it to go have a smoke on the terrace. Zoro followed him outside, since he was not really interested in watching a movie.

“Why don’t you smoke inside?” he asked curiously. Every smoker he knew had at least one room in his apartment where he could have a cigarette without freezing his arse off.

“Because Lucci would rip my guts out if I dared to smoke inside his apartment,” Sanji replied and lit up. After taking a deep drag he slowly exhaled and a sly smile graced his lips. “So we are having the ‘let’s get to know each other’-small talk after all.”

Zoro shrugged his shoulders. “Meh. I was just curious, that’s all. Who’s this Lucci-guy anyway?”

“My landlord and the lover of a friend of mine. He owns this apartment and lets me stay here because he doesn’t need it, since he lives with Robin now. She’s a very dear friend and one of the most beautiful ladies I’ve ever seen,” Sanji explained and Zorro didn’t really get it.

“So you are a freeloader?” he concluded mockingly and smirked. So the rich boy wasn’t that rich after all.

“No, I’m not, muppet! But I don’t feel like telling you the entire story of my life!” Sanji snapped

“There’s no need for you to tell me something boring as that anyway.”

“Yeah, it was boring as hell so far,” Sanji slightly growled and blew out a cloud of white smoke which mixed into the dancing snowflakes around them. But as soon as his anger had welled up it subsided again as if something was distracting his attention. His gaze wandered over to the cemetery and a heavy silence built up between them. Somehow it made Zoro feel guilty.
 

“This view is the reason why I live here not the cheap rent or something like that,” Sanji suddenly said and pointed towards the cemetery. Zoro stepped closer to see what he meant and it truly was fascinating. The entire cemetery was covered in snow and tiny orange flames of lit candles illuminated it in a cryptic yet solemn way.

“It’s soothing me,” Sanji went on talking, “You should see it in spring when flowers are planted and blooming. In winter it is always a little wistful.”

“So you don’t like gardening. That’s a reason I can understand, since I’m a loser at gardening myself,” Zoro admitted muttering when Sanji turned around to face him again with a look of reproach.

“Actually I like gardening, I’m simply lacking time. Besides, you are amazing at growing greens on your head, muppet. Now let’s get back inside, I’m freezing to death here.”
 

---- Thanks a lot for reding my story so far ----

I've already finished 15 of (most likely) 18 chapters. So please stay tuned and read on. :)

18th Dec - Meeting Jeff

French Affairs - Chapter 5
 

18th December - Meeting Jeff
 

When he woke up he didn’t immediately realize where he was. This bed was much too comfortable to be his own. Golden rays of morning sunlight illuminated the room and the delicate odour of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils. Had he died and gone to heaven?
 

Zoro grunted in disapproval of his own stupidity and got up. Seeing his travelling bag lying next to the bed he was finally able to remember where he was. It was probably the farthest place from heaven: France.

He yawned and stretched himself. Whatever time it was right now, his night had definitely been too short. He had spent quite a long time with the cook, who had made himself comfortable in an armchair reading a book, while he had been sitting on the couch and doing nothing but quietly drinking and staring out of the window. It had been quite nice to not talk to each other.
 

He grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and T-shirt before he strolled over to the bathroom to do his morning toilet. A fresh bath towel lay there prepared for him and practically lured him to taking a shower and using it afterwards.

The hot water revived his spirits and he felt ready to face any challenge awaiting him during the day. Unfortunately, the first of them was already a death blow: Breakfast was not exactly what he considered meriting this term.
 

“What the hell is this?” he asked surveying the table and finding nothing but coffee, a croissant, marmalade, and cheese. Even if he did let the bouquet of flowers in the middle count as food this still was nothing he considered fit for the term breakfast. Furthermore, he didn’t like sweets in the morning.

“Good morning. This is called ‘breakfast’,” Sanji greeted him and looked up from the newspaper.

“Very funny. You are supposed to be English, so you should know the difference between this…,” he pointed towards the table, “…and real breakfast.”

Sanji folded the paper neatly and placed it on the table before he rose to his feet.

“I didn’t realize that you are up already, that’s why your share is not prepared yet. Take a seat, please, and give me a couple of minutes to prepare it. Do you want a cup of coffee while you wait?”

Zoro frowned. Something was definitely off here. “Who are you and what did you do to the shit-cook?” he asked. Sanji turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Listen, dimwit. Your being grumpy in the morning doesn’t mean that I have to be grumpy as well. Now sit down and shut up.”
 

Zoro did as he was told and only a second later a coffee mug was placed in front of him. It held white coffee. Figured.

“Don’t look at it as if it was poisonous,” Sanji demanded. “It’s just coffee.”

“You never know. Could I get black coffee tomorrow? I don’t really scramble to get this white stuff.” Zoro was surprised himself how nicely he had asked and Sanji was no better. He even dared to crack a cheeky smile before replying: “Sure. I have a weak spot for nice pleas, you know?”

“And here I thought your weak spot was your brain. Now hurry up a little and get my food ready.”

Zoro didn’t know when he had had a morning at ease like this last. Sure, Sanji still was a pesky sucker, but being around him felt pretty much like being at home with the other nuts around. Ruffy had been right. Being here was nice—in an odd way.

He snapped out of his thoughts when a plate was placed in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed that Sanji had been cooking right next to him.
 

“About time too!” he teased and surveyed his breakfast. There was everything he could have hoped for. Fried toast, scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, baked beans and even mushrooms. It was perfect.

“I didn’t poison it as well. Stop gawping at it and eat, moron!”

“What’s your problem with poisoning food all the time? Did I ever say that? No. Don’t get on my nerves with that bullshit,” Zoro demanded and started eating. It was good. Well, even he was able to make breakfast and it was not the highest art there was, but still this was good.
 

Sanji let him eat in silence while he continued reading the newspaper. Only when he had finished his plate, the blonde began to speak again: “Did you make up your mind what you want to do during the next few days?”

Zoro looked at him and frowned.

“Not really,” he replied. Of course training would be his highest priority but that couldn’t be all he would do, could it? Furthermore he felt the need to repay Sanji’s efforts to host him in a decent way. “I can’t slack off training,” he stated without really saying anything by it.
 

Somehow Sanji seemed disappointed for a second but had his expression under control right away. “Sure,” he replied and folded up the newspaper to put it aside again. “But can I ask you a favour?”

Zoro nodded and remained in silent anticipation. What the hell could the cook want from him?

“I want you to stay here for training or at least take my mobile with you when you go outside.”

“I’m not a baby and I don’t need you to take care of me,” Zoro replied as calm as possible. It annoyed him more than anything that this damn brewer of poison still thought of him as dumb.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But of course not. You know what? Screw you.”

He rose to his feet and left the kitchen but he had only reached the hallway when a foot connected with his head.

“What the hell is your problem?” he snarled at Sanji and whirled around.

“You! And now quit your bloody sulking and listen to me, arsehole. The damn door bell is broken so I wouldn’t hear you ringing it.”
 

Well, that made sense. But Sanji wasn’t finished yet.

“Furthermore I won’t be home this afternoon, since I need to set up the Christmas trees at the Baratié. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just had to call me so I can head home so you won’t freeze your damn arse off?”

“You could give me a spare key,” Zoro replied and knew that this had been a bad idea right away.

“Or I could kick your ass and let you rot at a hospital! If I had a spare key I would gladly wrap it in fancy paper and shove it up your ass just to get rid of you, wisenheimer!” Sanji yelled infuriated by Zoro’s suggestion, what infuriated Zoro in return.

“It is not my fault that you have no spare key! You could have said so earlier!”

“I could not since you always take everything the wrong way and run away sulking!”

“Stop bloody screaming at me!”

“Make me!”
 

Zoro felt the urge to kill this blonde nuisance but he couldn’t think of a way to make it look like an accident when he ripped his guts out. Fuck it. He leaped forward and grabbed Sanji’s collar, squeezing it tightly, and shoving the blond man against the nearest wall.

“Don’t make me kill you,” he growled but the threat didn’t have the effect he had expected. On the contrary, the look in Sanji’s eyes had something unfathomable and daring to it.

“What makes you think you are able to do so?” he asked with a tinge of mockery and smiled. This was getting ridiculous. No one ever smiled when Zoro threatened to kill him. He growled.

“Intuition.”
 

“Oh really?” Sanji asked and kneed him in the side, followed by another hard kick against his shin. Caught by surprise of the sudden force behind the kicks, Zoro loosened his grip a little but didn’t hesitate in returning the favour by punching Sanji in his stomach. The hit wasn’t as hard as could be, but hearing the cook gasp for air sure had a nice sound to it nonetheless. He let go of his collar and pushed his underarm against Sanji’s throat, slowly leaning against it. A sudden hunger for blood he hadn’t felt in years roared up in his mind and he didn’t really know if he could suppress it.
 

When the telephone rang the spell of rage was abruptly broken and Zoro let go of Sanji, quickly taking a step back.

“That’s it?” Sanji asked and walked past him as if nothing had happened. All Zoro could do was thank whoever was on the phone for calling right on time. He still didn’t know if he would have lost control over himself or not.
 

“Allô?” Sanji said after picking up the phone and Zoro could hear a male voice screaming at him as a reply.

“Oh really?” the cook said annoyedly and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I was about to come over anyway.” Another sharp tirade followed and Sanji clearly fought for countenance. And lost.

“I told you I’m about to come over, so shut it, damn old geezer!” he yelled and hung up. After taking several deep breaths he turned around to face Zoro and said: “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Will you stay here or run off again?”
 

Somehow Sanji sounded tired and Zoro hated that he felt bad about it.

“Who was that guy calling?” he asked instead of giving an answer.

“Jeff,” Sanji answered and when he realized that saying “Santa Clause” would have had the same effect he added, “My foster-father.”

“What a lovely guy.”

“Listen, I don’t have the time to babble around,” Sanji said, put on his boots and grabbed his jacket. “Stay or leave, I don’t care. See you.”
 

Zoro was dumbfounded for several seconds before he was finally able to react. Hadn’t he and Sanji fought about him not leaving and now he didn’t care? That was bullshit.

“Hey! Wait a second!” he demanded as Sanji stepped outside the door. To his surprise he stopped and looked at him in question. “What is it now?”

“Take me with you.”

Sanji sighed in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. Why the hell am I doing this to me?”

“How am I supposed to know?”
 

A couple of minutes later they arrived at a neat restaurant called the Baratié. It didn’t look as fancy on the outside as Zoro had expected, what eased him a little.

When they entered Sanji told him to take a seat wherever he wanted and that he would be back in a couple of minutes before he disappeared in the kitchen.

Zoro took his time looking around and surveying the interior just to come to the conclusion that he liked it here. It was, typically for France, held in dark shades of red and dark wood but it lacked the omnipresent art nouveau Zoro loathed.

Small tables with white table cloths and neatly arranged glasses on top of them filled the guest room while in the corner right before the service hatch stood a huge Christmas tree waiting for being decorated.
 

Letting his gaze slide further through the guest room he was utterly flabbergasted to see Mihawk sitting in the farthest corner, staring at him. What the hell was he of all people doing here? Paris was big enough for him to wander around for years without meeting the same person twice so why the blazes did he have to run into the only one he wanted to see least of all on his second day here?

“So you are alive,” he greeted Zoro and raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Zoro growled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had thought that he had hated being in France before but now he knew what he really hated: Being here without his swords to show this smug bastard that he had actually learned quite a lot over the last years.

“Don’t mistake me. I would be really disappointed if something trivial as that cut would have killed you.”

Zoro’s expression darkened at the arrogance in the older man’s words that hadn’t changed the least bit. He was about to bark a reply at him but when hell broke loose in the kitchen. For the first time he got an impression of what he and Sanji must have sounded like earlier and momentarily forgot about his nemesis .
 

He heard Sanji and another voice scream at each other while he could see some terrified looking cooks steal away facing whatever was going on in the kitchen through the service hatch. He couldn’t witness anything spectacular but heard the noise of breaking tableware and glass and more yelling from the kitchen until he suddenly saw Sanji flying past the service hatch and crashing into the wall just to get back at whoever had assaulted him a moment later.
 

Zoro was still processing the information when Sanji came crashing through the swing door, which separated the kitchen from the guest room.

With a spin over his hand he landed on his feet and glared daggers at his father who stepped out of the kitchen right behind him. After a short glance at Zoro the older man growled: “So he is the reason. You have lousy taste befriending some pansy-assed punk!”

Not only Zoro’s eyebrow twitched as he heard Jeff’s words but even Mihawk’s eyebrow was raised in mild surprise, as he noticed.

“He is none of your business!” Sanji spat and took a fighting stance again.

Zoro had to admit that Sanji looked quite determined and had a great posture, which meant that the bastard had been holding back all the time and a slight growl of annoyance escaped Zoro’s throat.
 

“He is!” Jeff yelled again and took a fighting stance as well. “Your spoiling of such a worthless piece of shit is…” Obviously, Sanji had had enough of it and attacked. Vicious kicks were aimed at his foster-father but he didn’t land a hit since the older man seemed to know precisely which move would come next. To Zoro it seemed pointless for Sanji to go on fighting if he didn’t have an ace up his sleeve.

When Jeff counter attacked it seemed the fight was decided. The old man, even though he had a wooden leg, showed no mercy and hit Sanji’s chest and face several times. But when the final blow was about to come, Zoro couldn’t believe what he saw: That prick of a cook started smiling again.

The way he quickly bent backwards offered him enough momentum to take a stand on his hands and thrust his feet upwards. One blocking Jeff’s attack and the other kicking his chin so he flew through the air towards the kitchen. Coming after him, Sanji nearly smashed Jeff’s upper thigh by pinning it down with his knee and rested his other knee on his chest.

He leaned in close to his father’s ear and whispered an almost inaudible “Don’t insult my friends or I’ll get really mad.”
 

Leaning back up Sanji searched his pockets for his cigarettes and finally put one between his lips without lighting up. “Furthermore I can spoil whoever the fuck I want, remember that. Even if it’s a shithead like him.”

Jeff could do nothing but to gawp at Sanji in astonishment before he burst out laughing. “Oh my, little eggplant,” he said and went on laughing.

“What?” Sanji asked and rose to his feet stretching out his hand to help his father get up again. “It was about time for you to stand your ground.”

“I always have, you just didn’t realize it,” Sanji stated wryly and shoved his father over to the swing door. “Now get back to work and do my job properly or I won’t be able to enjoy my vacation, you know?”
 

--- Thank you a lot for you nice comments on this fanfiction, Rubyca -------

18th Dec - Oh, Chrismastree...

Note: The italicised dialogues are mostly supposed to be French. Since Zoro is able to understand French I assume that you, the reader, should understand it as well. ;) Sometimes italicised words are simply emphasised, I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean.
 

French Affairs - Chapter 6
 

18th December - Oh, Christmastree
 

“I don’t believe it,” Zoro said absentmindedly and tried to recall the course of action of the fight he had witnessed before. He couldn’t really see Sanji holding back in his attacks. Not like he had done at home earlier. Let alone the speed of his attacks had been masterly.
 

The entire time he recalled the fight he could feel Mihawk’s glare but didn’t know why the older man seemed to try to burn holes into his head with his intense gaze. Leaning back in his seat Zoro returned the gaze. He had already learned that it was a bad idea to anger the world kendo champion, so he knew he should feel more inspired with awe having him right in front of his nose, and apparently pissed of at him, but he couldn’t. Because this time he had done nothing wrong, hadn’t he?
 

Still he was glad to see Sanji leaving the kitchen out of the corner of his eye and pacing over to their table. The cook seemed to be in a really good mood.

“Hey, silkworm, your service sucks,” Zoro greeted him and smirked when he saw Sanji’s annoyed look.

“Oh, really?” the blonde man asked in fake wonderment. “Maybe there’s a reason for that. Such as that we are still closed, moss-head.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow in question.

“Why is he here then?” he said and pointed towards Mihawk. Sanji followed his movement wit his gaze and smiled.

“How are you, Monsieur Dulacre? It’s good to see you,” he politely greeted Mihawk, who simply nodded as a reply, before he answered Zoro’s question, “Monsieur Dulacre is a friend of my father’s so he gets special treatment.”

“I see.”

“Gentlemen, feel free to leave me alone and do whatever you are supposed to do here.” Mihawk interrupted them in a tone that was more of a command than a request.

“Of course, Monsieur. Would you be so kind as to excuse us?” Sanji said and bowed slightly before he turned to Zoro again. “Moron, come with me, we have Christmas trees to set up.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“Oh, shut it, idiot.”

“Make me,” Zoro teased further but followed him nonetheless but not without taking another glance at Mihawk, who was still glaring at him. He did the same feeling his entire body itching for a fight he knew he still wouldn’t win but he would sure as hell wipe the smug expression of the bastards face.
 

“You don’t really like him, do you?” Sanji asked while they went upstairs to decorate Chopper’s Birthday tree.

“That’s none of your concern,” Zoro stated and fell silent again. Today Sanji was way too talkative for his taste.

“Zoro…” the blonde cook said and Zoro’s ears perked up. Could it be that the shit-cook had actually called him by his name? That would be a first.

“I’m just trying to show interest in you, you know? If it was my choice I wouldn’t give a damn about your life, but it isn’t. So don’t make it harder for me than it is anyway.”

“You forgot the insult at the end of your speech, blondie” Zoro teased and enjoyed the annoyed sigh, which escaped Sanji’s lips.

“You’re a bloody bastard and you know it. I didn’t think you were retarded enough to need me to remind you of it with any sentence I say.”

“I don’t need you to do anything for me. I just wanted to help you train your last few brain cells so they don’t rot like the others,” Zoro retorted and smiled. That was the way he liked to have conversations with the prick.

“Lovely. I’m very grateful for your concern. As soon as I feel the need for having a mother I’ll think about adopting you.”
 

Well, that was a topic he didn’t want to talk about. Neither did Sanji really seem to want it, even though he had brought it up. Being as foxy as Zoro was, he put two and two together and concluded that Jeff had no wife. What was not that much of a big surprise judging by Sanji’s usage of foul language.
 

They entered a large and lightish coloured room with a round table in the middle with a rather huge Christmas tree lying near the door.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Sanji said and pulled a knife out of his pocket to uncut the net wrapping the Christmas tree.

“I want you to get my balls out and… that doesn’t sound right,” Sanji mumbled and glanced over to Zoro, who was watching him with a quizzical look.

“Go on,” he said and a smirk appeared on his lips. “I can’t wait to hear the end of the story.”

Sanji stretched out his middle finger. “Arsehole, I didn’t mean those, okay? So don’t be dense and go fetch the boxes over there and sort them after fairy lights, baubles, and ribbons,” he said and pointed towards a pile of boxes.

“I thought you needed to buy those first?” Zoro asked a little confused. If he remembered correctly what the cook had told him yesterday, he didn’t own pink baubles.

“That’s right. But I thought that it would probably bore you to go shopping with me so I called Jeff this morning and asked him to buy them for me,” Sanji explained and a devilish grin graced his lips. “That was also the main topic of today’s quarrel. He wasn’t very happy about you making me ask him to buy those.”

“That’s bullshit! I didn’t do anything,” Zoro defended himself, utterly indignant at Sanji’s accusation. But at least that explained why Jeff thought of him as a spoilt brat. It pissed him off.
 

Meanwhile Sanji lifted up the Christmas tree and put it in its stand.

“Is it vertical?” he asked ignoring Zoro’s interjection.

“No,” Zoro spat and slammed the boxes on the table.

“Hey, arsehole! That shit is fragile!”

“Oh. My hand must have slipped because you made me carry those bloody boxes.”

“I don’t think it’s normal for you to be so touchy about just everything. What’s wrong?” Sanji asked and crawled out from under the tree.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. So what’s wrong with you? And don’t say ‘nothing’ again or I’ll kick your arse for real this time,” Sanji insisted and walked over to check if any of the baubles were broken.

“Your kicks are nothing to be afraid of, dartboard-brow. Furthermore, my mood has nothing to do with you and is nothing you should worry over, except you have nothing else to do like decking the Christmas tree.”

“That was childish.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Shithead.”

“Cretin.”

“We’re in France so pronounce it properly.”

“Fuck you.”

“Close, but still wrong.”

“Drop dead.”

“No way.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”
 

Sanji couldn’t help himself but to start laughing.

“I guess I could get used to this,” he stated and cracked a pleased smile at Zoro.

“Are you stupid?” Zoro asked and raised an eyebrow, temporarily pausing in his work.

“No. But sometimes I’m just bored out of my mind and, somehow, I just can’t imagine that to happen with you around.”

“So you are stupid,” Zoro concluded. “Who in his right might would prefer quarrelling over having his peace?”

“Me?” Sanji suggested and grabbed the fairy lights from the table before he returned to the Christmas tree.

“You are insane,” Zoro commented and went on sorting out the boxes. He wasn’t really bothered by bickering with Sanji but it wouldn’t hurt either if the cook wouldn’t be that talkative.

“Concerning Jeff…,” Sanji said without turning around, “He was just mocking you to make me angry, so don’t take it to heart.”
 

“Why would I care about something unimportant as that?” Zoro asked. Of course, it bothered him that the old geezer had insulted him in front of Mihawk, but he wouldn’t kill himself over it. He didn’t care about something trivial as some old fart thinking bad of him, God damn it! Maybe it was simply getting to him to be surrounded by people who didn’t like him after being home for a while. A very short while. Way too short.
 

“I don’t know but you do care.” That freak-brow was sharper than his blonde hair would make people guess. Fuck.

“Think whatever the hell you want,” Zoro snarled and started decorating the Christmas tree while he tried not to interrupt Sanji’s struggling with the fairy lights.

“Damn cable bullshit!” he railed against them and Zoro couldn’t suppress his malicious joy.

“Stop grinning like a fool and help me, moron!” Sanji demanded and kicked Zoro’s butt slightly. At that moment he realized that Sanji was offering truce without really saying it. He thought about replying anything but finally shrugged the thought off and lend the blonde a hand without saying anything. He knew that whatever he could have possibly said would have unfailingly led to another argument. And he had had enough of that for today already, even though it was barely noon.
 

After what felt like an eternity they had finished decorating both of the Christmas trees, the pink one for Chopper and the one in the guest room, which was held in traditional red and gold. The less Zoro and Sanji talked to each other the better they worked together. Nonetheless he had been glad when their work had been finished and they had headed home again.
 

Now he was meditating on the terrace and trying to clear his mind from every unnecessary thought. Normally he had no problems wiping off everything that troubled him but today he was too restless to do it. He was lacking proper training and therefore lacking concentration. Perfect. That was the best prerequisite for performing a glorious and memorable fuck-up at the tournament. So damn perfect.
 

He heard Sanji stepping outside and lighting up. Zoro appreciated that Sanji didn’t try to talk to him but he could feel his look on his body. Furthermore he smelled dinner and that was the first good news today.

“What is it?” he finally asked and stretched his limbs to get rid of the numb feeling in them.

“Dinner is ready,” Sanji replied and Zoro could nearly feel the other man’s urge to say more than that.

“Ask,” he commanded.

“Aren’t you cold? I mean look at you. You sat here in the cold for hours, wearing nothing but your tracksuit trousers—and you don’t even have the decency to get goose bumps.”

“Isn’t that enough of an answer?” Zoro said and stepped inside. “It’s quite chilly in here, don’t you think?” It amazed Zoro that it actually was cold inside the apartment without the cook complaining about it. But now that his gaze landed on a rather huge and neatly decorated Christmas tree he knew that the cook had been busy and probably not paying attention to his surroundings.

“Nah, that’s fine. I guess the door’s been open too long,” Sanji replied before his mobile started ringing. Zorro took his time surveying the Christmas tree once more just to see that its decoration just held tons of tiny fairy lights and dozens of different white fake snowflakes, icicles, and white snow flake baubles. It fit into the living room perfectly as he had expected from the cook.
 

“Allô?” Sanji said picking up and walking over to the kitchen. “Lucci, what’s the matter?”

Zoro followed him and sat down at the table and watched the blonde laying the table while he was talking to this Lucci-guy.

“What do you mean ‘the heating is broken’?” Sanji suddenly snapped.

So he had been right and it was unusually chilly inside the apartment.

“Tomorrow? I’ll freeze my arse off, you know? … Right. Mmhm. Okay. Thanks a lot, Lucci. Give my regards to the lovely mellorine. Bye.”

Sanji hung up and looked at Zoro with an annoyed expression.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Zoro said and held both hands up in defence.

“What are you talking about?” Sanji asked in bewilderment.

“Since you tend to blame me for everything I just wanted to clarify my position. I didn’t do it. Period.”

“Of course you didn’t do it, moron. The heating is broken and there’s no way in hell I would blame you for that. I blame Lucci for killing me by letting me slowly freeze to death,” Sanji stated and began serving dinner.

“Don’t be a drama queen. You have a fireplace in your living room so I don’t see a problem.” It was a mystery to Zoro how a grown up man like Sanji could be so helpless in such a situation. Furthermore, he knew perfectly fine that Sanji had several stère of wood piled up on his terrace. There was definitely no need to freak out.

“That’s what Lucci said as well. I just never used it so I temporarily forgot about it,” the cook replied and sat down. “Bon appétit.”
 

Zorro just rolled his eyes and said nothing. He had almost forgotten that he was in France and now that damn plonker had to remind him of it. In silence he thanked Sanji for providing him this fantastic meal of rice, beef and a highly seasoned sauce, and started eating. All that was missing to make dinner perfect was some booze.

He looked up when a bottle was placed in front of him.

“What’s that?” he asked and surveyed the label of the bottle.

“I would guess it is beer, shithead,” Sanji said and sat down again.

“To what do I owe the honour of this?” Zoro questioned ironically but accepted the offer nonetheless. The beer was good, but had a fancy aftertaste. It was sort of sweet but fitted the meal perfectly.

“You just look like you need it,” Sanji replied while Zoro noticed that the cook had a glass of red wine placed in front of his own plate. “I swear I’ll need more booze myself to keep my blood from freezing tonight.”

“Just lend me your matches later and I’ll light a fire in the fireplace so you have it all cosily warm in the living room. There’s no need for you to whine the entire time.”

Offering himself to light a fire was at least a way, although a very simple one, to show his gratitude towards the cook. Sure, the fancy brow should be able to do that himself, but hey, who cared?

“That’s unexpectedly nice of you,” Sanji replied and started eating himself. After a short while he added a quiet but genuine “Thank you”.
 

Later that night Zoro had learned three things about Sanji. Firstly, he had an amazingly well stocked liquor cabinet; secondly, he couldn’t hold his liquor for shit; thirdly, being drunk he was even more talkative. But at least he was one of the “happy drunks” and not trying to pick a fight with him. What was quite an improvement of their relationship. Unfortunately that didn’t mean that he did not annoy the hell out of Zoro.
 

“I can already imagine you getting a beer belly and a rum blossom,” Sanji taunted and started laughing while Zoro just sunk deeper into the couch and tried to ignore him. He started counting the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. Every time he lost count of them due to Sanji’s babbling he poured himself another glass of sake, that prick really had sake at home even though he didn’t like it, and downed it in one.
 

Finally, Sanji fetched a bottle of Scotch and crashed on the sofa next to Zoro, who proceeded to staring into the flames dancing in the fireplace.

“Tell me the worst part about you,” Sanji suddenly claimed and something that could be taken as serious interest was audible in his voice.

“Don’t people usually talk about their good points?” Zoro asked not really keen on talking to his host.

“I don’t want to hear them—I can easily figure them out by myself.”

“I bet your list turns out rather short that way.”

“Possible. Now tell me.”

In Zoro’s opinion Sanji was way too sober to talk to him about something like that. There was no way in hell he would tell him something private and risk that he could even remember it. Not for love or money.

“What will I get in return?” he asked to avoid a direct answer.

“My worst part?”

“Well, I guess I can live without that knowledge. It’s worthless to me anyway.”
 

Seemingly, Sanji wasn’t satisfied by that answer. He took another sip of his drink and said: “You haven’t seen me near a woman yet, have you?”

“Should I?”

“I’d rather you not. I tend to get quite… silly around them.”

“You are always silly.”

“That’s not it,” Sanji insisted and made a face somewhere between embarrassment and surrender. “I get so thrilled and enthusiastic by their beauty it isn’t even funny anymore.”

“Then stop it.”

“I can’t. It’s my second nature.”

That was one hell of a boring story Zoro couldn’t help but yawn. He had seen worse than some love-crazed bastard sweet-talking some bitchy women. Sanji punched him in the side for his more than obvious disinterest.

“What’s your worst trait?”

“You won’t let me get away without saying it, will you?”

“No. I’m drunk and tend to be a little pushy like this. I can try and guess if you don’t want to tell me.”
 

Sanji was always pushy. But especially listening to his, most likely very far-fetched, guesses sounded like more of a torture to Zoro than he was willing to bear right now. The fire was nice and soothing with its crackling and Zoro decided that it was about time for another drink. While he poured it he could see Sanji getting up and leaving the room out of the corner of his eye. Whatever he was about to do, it gave Zoro more time to sort out his thoughts and ponder what harm it would do to tell the cook his most evident bad feature.
 

“So?” Sanji asked all of a sudden. Zoro had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even realised that he had reappeared. Moreover, he had fetched their pillows and blankets. Much to Zoro’s displeasure.

“Are you planning on having a slumber party, curly-brow?”

“I won’t let you freeze so you are gonna sleep with me.”

Well that did sound drunk enough for Zoro to stop caring about what to tell the drunkard and what not.

“I know what you mean but you don’t know what bloody nonsense you are babbling,” Zoro grunted and snatched his pillow from Sanji’s arms to stuff it next to his side and sink against it. Sanji just laughed. “I have absolutely no idea what you mean,” he said and sat down again.
 

For quite a while Zoro surveyed him, the shine of his eyes, his laid-back posture, and the content smile on his lips. He didn’t get the blonde the least bit.

Sighing in defeat he answered Sanji’s initial question.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, although you should have figured it out yourself by now,” he said and took another sip of his drink. Sanji just sat there and looked at him in anticipation.

“Sometimes I feel an almost uncontrollable hunger for blood and…”

“Are you a vampire?” Sanji interrupted and his eyes shone with childlike joy.

“No, idiot. I mean it like hungering for mayhem or like feeling the need to physically hurt people, okay?”

“So you really wanted to kill me?” Words of wisdom from a drunk. True, they were supposed to tell the truth—but they weren’t supposed to be sharp. So the cook was not as wasted as Zoro had hoped. It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

“Kind of,” he admitted. He would have felt bad about killing the cook and he highly doubted he would have gone as far as to really hurt him that bad, but the need to do so had definitely been there.

“That’s not nice of you.”

“Really? I thought you begged for it.”

“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” Sanji yawned mishearing Zoro’s words, and leaned against the swordsman, who was more than taken aback by that gesture. He had practically declared being a ruthless monster and this 24-carat idiot of a shit-cook misused him as a pillow? That was insane.

He sighed and reached for one of the blankets to cover Sanji.

“If you throw up on me, I’ll throw you out of the window, shit-cook.”

“I don’t throw up,” Sanji mumbled and snuggled in closer. “Would be a waste.”

Having him this close, too close, irritated Zoro. He wasn’t used to people clinging to him.

“Now, grab your blanket and lay down on your end of the couch,” he claimed and gently tried to move the cook towards said direction without making him fall over. Reluctantly Sanji obeyed and slumped down on the other end of the couch just to pull the blanket over his head and drift off to sleep without further ado.

Zoro shook his head, expressing his lack of comprehension. Most likely he was just overreacting to Sanji’s physical closeness.

After clearing the table he switched off the lights and got ready to sleep himself.
 

------------ Thanks a lot again for reading my story -----------------

19th Dec - Hangover

Note: The italicised dialogues are supposed to be French. Since Zoro is able to understand French I assume that you, the reader, should understand them as well. ;)
 

French Affairs – Chapter 7
 

Everything was nice and warm around him. Sanji opened his eyes and got almost blinded by the bright light of the morning hitting his senses and, making him groan a little and squeeze his eyes shut again. This had to be a sign that he should sleep a little longer. Maybe his hangover wouldn’t be that bad in an hour or two.

He snuggled into his pillow and was instantly soothed by its warmth, its nice smell, the slight but steady movements, and the steady breath and heartbeat he could hear. Wait. Heartbeat?

He bolted up just to feel a wave of dizziness rushing over him and a murderous headache hammering against his forehead. Slumping forward he supported himself against his pillow and forced his eyes open again. That was the moment he wanted to die.

“Oh, no,” he groaned when his gaze met the unreadable look on Zoro’s face. At least the shithead had the decency to remain silent. But when a slight smirk appeared on Zoro’s lips Sanji couldn’t stand it and fought his way out from under the blanket. He got up and paced over to the bathroom. At least he tried to walk as gracefully as possible without stumbling or running into a wall.
 

God, this just couldn’t be true. He had used the marimo as a pillow. That was just so damn embarrassing. But, truth be told, it had been comfortable and that was what mattered, wasn’t it? He leaned against the door and tried to clear his head as much as possible with his screaming headache. Glancing over his crotch he felt the urge to scream. Now he understood the damn smirk of the mould-headed bastard. Heavens, the marimo would never let him live this down, would he?
 

Yet, no matter how he looked at it, his headache was killing him and moreover he felt like he had forgotten something important but couldn’t recall it no matter how hard he tried. After taking a pain killer and brushing his teeth to get rid of the stale taste in his mouth he slipped out of his clothing and stepped into the shower. As soon as he turned on the water he knew what he had forgotten and it cost him his entire willpower not to squeak but to simply curse under his breath as the icy cold water touched his skin. At least he was awake now and his early-morning arousal was taken care of.

He finished his showering as fast as he could and wrapped himself in his uncomfortably cold bath towel. This day was starting to frightfully annoy him. Then he remembered that he had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with him.

“Bloody hell,” he swore still shivering and hurried over to his equally chilly bedroom to slip on some clothing, including the warmest pullovers he could find. There was no way this day could get any worse.
 

As soon as he entered the living room again a ray of hope appeared at the horizon. The mould-headed moron had been so nice as to put more wood on the fire so at least the living room was cosily warm but, as much as he hated to leave this haven and step into the cold outside, he was in urgent need of a smoke and a cup of coffee afterwards.
 

When he returned to the living room he felt the immediate urge to strangle Zoro rise inside his guts, for his being so damn indifferent to his surroundings. Obviously he had taken a shower as well and was now strolling over to his room to get dressed. Nothing, not the slightest hint of him feeling at least a little irritated by this mornings events or cold or simply uncomfortable was visible. It annoyed Sanji to no end.
 

Stepping into the kitchen he realized that it wasn’t as cold in there as he had expected it to be. He was just percolating coffee when the moss-head had finished dressing and showed up again. Most likely to just annoy the hell out of him.

Since his head still hurt he decided to cloak himself in silence and just try to ignore the bastard behind his back.
 

“How’s your head?” Zoro finally asked and caught Sanji totally by surprise.

“I’ve never felt better,” he replied grumpy and still managed to sound serious about it even though it was nothing more than an award-worthy lie.

“Good for you.”

The doorbell rang and Zoro rose to his feet before Sanji even had turned around.

“I’ll open,” he said with a firm determination that shut Sanji up and simply made him nod.
 

Sanji had absolutely no idea who could drop by this early in the morning until a joyful “Hey, what’s up, cook-bro?” sounded from the hallway. So Franky did himself the honour of visiting him. Hopefully he had been sent over by Lucci to repair the heating.

“The cook’s in the kitchen,” Zoro replied and Sanji could clearly imagine his stupid face. Everyone wore the same expression when he met Franky for the fist time.

After all he insisted on wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a bathing slip no matter what time of the year it was. It was a mystery to Sanji why he hadn’t been imprisoned for scandalisation yet. But despite his questionable looks he was a really skilled mechanic.

“Supah! Thanks, bro,” he heard Frany reply before he entered the kitchen.
 

“Cook-bro, what’s up?” he asked and cracking a huge smile and Sanji had been right. He looked as shrill as always.

“Hi, Franky. How do you do?” he answered cracking a smile himself. “I hope you can fix the heating.”

“No problem, cook-bro. And I fixed your door bell downstairs as well. You should have called earlier, you know?”

“I don’t get visitors that often and Lucci and Robin, my lovely mellorine, have spare keys so there was no need for it,” Sanji replied shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s no wonder you don’t get visitors if they can’t ring. Ever thought about that?” Franky figured and laughed lustily.

“Right. Whatever. You already met Zoro, but let me introduce him properly,” Sanji changed the topic and added, “Franky, this is Zoro. Shithead, this is Franky.”

“Nice to meet you, Zoro,” Franky said and offered the swordsman a hand.

“Same here,” Zoro responded and accepted it while Sanji poured himself a cup of coffee.
 

“Smells nice, eyebrow-bro,” Franky commented his doing and Zoro burst out laughing. Whatever had gotten into the idiot Sanji didn’t know and shot Franky a quizzical look.

“What’s wrong with the idiot?” he asked while Zoro laughed so hard his eyes welled up with tears of laughter.

“Did you give him too much cola?” Franky counter-questioned trying to reason Zoro’s outburst.
 

Gasping for air Zorro took a deep breath before he regained his posture again and said: “Everything’s fine. I just like the ‘eyebrow-bro’ thing. That’s very sophisticated.”

“Sophisticated?” Sanji yelled. “In your dreams, arsehole!”

“Thanks a lot, greensward-bro,” Franky replied and now it was on Sanji to smirk.

“See? There’s nothing one can do against his sophisticated naming of people.”
 

“As much as I love staying here, I’ve gotta go now, cook. Work is calling. After all I just wanted to tell you about the door bell anyway. See you. Happy Christmas to you two,” Franky said and was out of the door just an instant later.

“Nice guy,” Zoro stated and left the kitchen as well.
 

Sanji in relief, now that he was alone again with no one around to make his head threaten to burst from all the noise he almost felt human again. He sat down at the kitchen table with his mug and tried to recall what had happened last night just to make sure he hadn’t done anything even stupider than mistaking the mossball for a pillow.
 

Unfortunately it was in vain and he lost track of his memories after Zoro’s admission of being a brute and out for murder. Well, thinking about it like this it had been pretty reckless of him to be so… drawn to his body warmth. He shrugged it off.

Nothing had happened so there was no point in thinking about it, was it?

Still needed a smoke to clear his head.
 

--------------- See you at the next chapter :) ----------------------

19th Dec - Feel me

French Affairs – Chapter 8
 

19 th December - Feel me
 

As soon as Franky had left, Zoro had somehow felt rather refreshed and able to focus again and decided to go grab his swords for practicing a little. He had been right. Focusing and training went on pretty smoothly. His muscles were relaxed and his body moved quite slinky whenever he performed another draw of his sword and strike against his imaginative enemies. His aggressions subsided, his mind stopped racing and his confidence to win the approaching tournament reappeared, even though he knew that he would probably not win over Mihawk, he felt able to at least try it and fail in dignity.
 

Once again he drew his swords, brought the white one to his mouth and stroke the black ones he held in hands in an upwards thrusting clockwise rotation before he sheathed them again. With the light clank of metal against metal Sanij’s voice appeared behind him.

“Marimo…” he said in a breathy voice. Then the metallic smell of blood hit Zoro’s senses and he whirled around just to see Sanji staring at his chest.

Blood was soaking his cut shirt.

“Oh, shit,” Zoro hissed under his breath. He needed about a second to stand before Sanji and rip his shirt apart and let his fingers wander across Sanji’s chest to examine the wounds he had caused. Two deep and profusely bleeding scratches stretched across his chest and Zoro thanked God that he hadn’t even reached the ribcage with his cut, not to mention any vital organs.
 

With a sigh of relief he let his head slump forward so it rested on Sanji’s shoulder and said: “Don’t scare me like that, you suicidal cook-roach.”

He heard the clicking of Sanji’s lighter and felt the cook’s hand on the back of his head right afterwards. Bringing his mouth close to Zoro’s ear and blowing a cloud of smoke into his face with it he said: “Are you finished feeling me up now, shithead? It’s getting a little cold.”

Looking up in Sanji’s face Zoro realized that the cook had found his composure again, despite the fact that he was a little pale.
 

“Feeling you up? In your dreams,” he replied but failed moving away from the cook. His memories of last night came rushing back at him and kept him from doing anything for a moment. After all, the cook had been feeling up him last night, not the other way round.
 

The moment Sanji had drowsily crawled on top of him last night, mumbling some stupid stuff about being cold and Zoro’s warmth, Zoro had known that it would be useless to send him away again, since he had been positive that the cook would return again, no matter how often he would send him away and he was no monster to let the idiot freeze to an imaginary death in his sleep. So he had let him do as he pleased. When Zoro had been about to doze off again, Sanji had started moving in his sleep, slipping one hand underneath Zoro’s shirt, caressing his chest and snuggling himself as close into Zoro as if his life depended on Zoro’s body warmth. Even if that hadn’t been enough already, having Sanji’s erection poking his thigh in the morning had been. Zoro was neither shy nor uptight or homophobe. But it had been a rather strange experience to go to sleep having a blonde drunkard clinging to him and waking up having an aroused blonde drunkard clinging to him, while he had to fight his own early-morning arousal. What a nasty little invention of nature. Luckily, the cook didn’t know that part of the story.
 

“What did you dream last night anyway?” he asked smirking and stepped back from Sanji, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him back inside the apartment. Maybe he could annoy Sanji a little more after patching him up.

“What? Why…” the cook fell silent and Zoro could have bet that he felt embarrassed remembering this morning. But since he stood behind him he couldn’t see it. It didn’t matter anyway at the moment.

“So? Did you enjoy it?” he teased further and guided him towards the bathroom.

“What are we doing here?” Sanji asked instead of a reply and looked at Zoro in question, his expression perfectly plain.

“Look at you, idiot. How about taping you up?”

When Sanji realised the bloodstained shreds around his shoulders which formerly had been his shirt he shrieked like a banshee: “You destroyed my favourite shirt, arsehole!”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Is that your only problem? Your ugly shirt?”

“This shirt was not ugly, it was exquisite!”

“So what? Be glad I didn’t cut off your bloody arms!”
 

That shut Sanji up for a second. Zorro leaned against the sink, crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited patiently for Sanji to let his words settle in.

“What are you talking about?” he finally asked.

“I have never experienced a day where ‘smoking can kill’ held more truth. If you had tried to light up your cigarette a second earlier, I would most likely have struck off both your forearms instead of scratching your chest.”

Sanji didn’t answer. If anything, he paled a little more and looked down at his hands as if to make sure they still were there and unharmed.
 

“Don’t sneak around behind me when I’m training,” Zoro demanded and frowned at Sanji. Of course it sounded like he blamed Sanji, and he did, but there was more to his words than the cook could grasp. Zoro was blaming himself for not sensing the other man’s presence, for not being able to react fast enough, for not realising he had hurt him until he had smelled his blood.

“I didn’t sneak, for fucks sake! You just didn’t hear me, so don’t make it my fault!”

“It was your fault.” Zoro stated firmly as if he was scolding a child. “I handle lethal weapons and you know it. You are enough of a fighter to be able to estimate the range of one of my strikes. How could it be not your fault?” That was a low blow and he knew it. Sanji was now cornered between taking the blame and admitting his own inability as a fighter or denying it, which wouldn’t change a thing and make him lose his face.
 

“Get out!” Sanji growled and glared daggers at Zoro, who obeyed him without further ado. He knew the blonde had every right to be angry with him. After all he had been the one who hadn’t paid attention. He knew it. But he would not apologize. Could not apologize. He knew it was disgraceful since he had lectured the child in the plain on his way here that no one would be angry about an accident if the causer was sorry and apologized. But that had been about some bloody yoghurt and not about pride as a fighter.
 

He went over to his room, changed his clothes, grabbed his wallet and his swords and left the apartment after putting on his boots and coat.

Without a real idea of where to go or what to do he left the building and strolled along the street. To his surprise he immediately found a nice little restaurant called Au Diable Vos Verres . He didn’t really care what it looked like but the name seemed quite fitting to his current mood so he entered and took a seat in the farthest corner from the door.

He didn’t have to wait long until a waitress approached his table and asked for his order.

“Just give me the strongest liquor you have in stock,” he ordered before his thoughts drifted off again. When she didn’t move but still looked at him as if she was waiting for something he remembered that some French refused to understand English. He sighed. France sucked. “Pleas be so kind and bring me the strongest liquor you have in stock,” he muttered. He definitely needed to calm down and get drunk. Everything else would be handled by him later.

When she returned and placed a long drink glass containing a milky liquid in front of him he looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean a glass but a bottle,” he said and tried to look a little less annoyed than he was. For a wonder the waitress smiled at him and said “Very well” before she left again.

“What a fucked up day,” Zorro sighed and drank his shot in one go. It tasted as bad as his mood was.
 

“You don’t sound very happy, dude,” the man at the table next to him said and offered him his hand. “I’m Daz Bones.”

Zoro looked up and recognized the man as one of the other regular participants of the kendo tournaments. If he remembered his skill correctly, he was good but nothing spectacular.

“Do I look like I need some random idiot to cheer me up? Do me a favour and leave me alone, dude. For your sake. I have a really bad temper,” Zoro replied and returned to staring into nowhere.

“I know who you are, Zoro Roronoa,” Daz said without listening to Zoro’s request. “And I’m going to defeat you this time.”

The waitress returned and placed two bottles and lots of stuff in front of Zorro: a bottle of water, a bottle of bilious green absinthe, a fancy cake shovel, sugar cubes, and a new glass. Taking a look at the liquors label he saw that it held 68 % alcohol in volume. Well, that sounded promising at last. Who cared about taste anyway?

“What do I need that for?” he asked surveying all the supplies filling his table. The waitress still smiled at him and started explaining: “Monsieur, first you fill a little absinthe in your glass, then lay the absinthe spoon on the rim of it, place a sugar cube on the spoon and slowly pour the water over it. That’s why your drink earlier was milky.”

Zoro didn’t get why he should do something as stupid as that. He didn’t want to look like a fancy idiot but to simply get drunk. Nonetheless he thanked the waitress and filled his glass with pure absinthe afterwards and drank it, totally forgetting about Daz.
 

Since he drank the liquor a little slower this time he could savour the pungent taste of nearly pure alcohol on his tongue. It was everything but healthy and tasty.

“I said I will defeat you,” Daz repeated and pulled the chair in front of Zoro to sit down in his direct field of vision.

“I don’t care what you prattle. Now, leave me alone.”

Zoro could already feel the alcohol kick in and smiled. This witches’ brew was worth every cent he would have to pay for it. It satisfied him even enough to accept the intrusion of Bones into his private sphere for a little while longer although Daz didn’t appreciate it.

“That’s not very polite of you,” he lectured and grabbed Zoro’s glass after he had refilled it again and slowly turned it over, spilling its content on the table. “Oops, my hand must have slipped,” he said in faked surprise.

Daz’ reflexes were lame. He didn’t even have the time to realize what was going on before Zoro had tilted his chair backwards by hooking in his foot on one of the chair’s legs and kicking against the seating surface with the other. With a loud thud Daz crashed onto the floor.

Zoro didn’t even blink.
 

“You will pay for that!” he yelled getting up again.

“I doubt that,” Zoro stated and refilled his glass.

“Spill it again,” he claimed daringly and leaned back. “That was very impressive. In my personal ranking I would place it right below my grandma throwing cotton balls.”

He itched for a fight but he needed more of a reason. He needed Daz to start it so he wouldn’t be disqualified from taking part in the tournament himself. Defending oneself wasn’t forbidden while, as far as he knew, beating idiots to a pulp without a good reason was.

“How dare you?” Daz yelled again and leaped forward to grab Zoro’s collar. He let it happen without moving a muscle. Then he raised an eyebrow.

“What now?” he asked and smirked. He leaned his arms back on the table and revealed his swords with it in a casual gesture.

Daz was a fool indeed and so easy to provoke. Only a moment later he held a finger long Dagger in his hand and pointed it towards Zoro’s left eye. Zoro could hear some of the guests scream in terror.

“Care to lose it, oh great swordfighter-who-is-above-and-beyond-us-common-mortals?”

“Did you cook that up all on your own? That was quite sophisticated—and closely watched.”

Daz struck out to take the gloves off. Zoro didn’t really dodge the strike. He sort of felt like he deserved to bleed at least a little for what he had done today, so he just moved back enough so he wouldn’t loose his eyesight but get a cut through his eyebrow and a scratch over his eyelid instead. Most likely it wouldn’t even leave a scar. The important thing about it was that now he was defending himself.

His smirk turned into a demonic grin and Daz seemed to realize his mistake the instant Zoro grabbed his wrist, pulled him across the table and smashed his head against the tabletop.

“Don’t mess with me!” he hissed and got up, twisting Daz’ arm by it and launched him against the nearest wall, where he broke into his knees. The guests around them watched yelping and one even screamed for the police. Nice.

“I told you to bloody leave me alone,” Zoro growled and strolled over to Daz who was getting up from the floor once again. “I told you twice. And what did you do? You spilled my drink instead. You cut my face.”

Now it was Zoro’s turn to grab the other man’s collar and lifted him up just to shove him against the wall and pin him with his body. “Thank you,” he whispered and smashed his fist into the wall next to Daz head, who yelped like a little girl at the sound.
 

“This is the police. Let go of the man!” Zoro got interrupted. He growled again but stepped back and let go of Daz. When he turned around he faced a tall man who wore long dark hair, a strangely curled goatee and was dressed entirely black, except for his light blue necktie. France was strange.

“What’s going on here?” the man asked and paced towards Zoro and Daz.

“We had sort of a slight variance in opinion,” Zoro replied.

“He fucking attacked me!” Daz screamed and pointed towards Zoro. The guests in the dining area seemed to understand enough of the situation to intervene and hastily started talking across each other while the officer looked slightly disgusted at Daz and said: “Sir, we received a call describing the situation a little different. The caller said someone fitting your description was attacking a person fitting his description,” he nodded towards Zoro, “with a stabbing weapon.”
 

Zoro didn’t get it. This single man had an aura that practically forced people to obey his will. It was truly fascinating but whoever he was he was definitely no police officer. At least that much had become a fact as soon as the real police arrived. They seemed pretty surprised when they saw the guy in the suit handling the situation without really doing anything but being present.

“Monsieur Lucci? What are you doing here?” one of theme asked the suit-guy and the name he used felt somehow familiar to Zoro though he couldn’t grasp it.

“I was close by and happened to hear the radio message,” Lucci replied and nodded towards Daz Bones. “Arrest him. He attacked this gentleman over there with the dagger lying under the table. I’ll take care of the victim and put his statement on a record.”
 

Somehow the way he pronounced the word victim made it sound like an insult. Like he already knew what had really happened. The police officers did not question his actions any further but arrested Daz and lead him outside. Zoro had to suppress the urge to wave after him. Idiot. But he felt way better now.

Lucci suddenly stand right beside him and held a tissue towards him.

“You should let a doctor take a look at that,” he said but Zoro shook his head. “Thank you. That’s nothing,” he said, took the tissue and sat back down where he had sat before. The waitress hurried over and wiped the table clean of the spilled liquor and asked for Lucci’s order but he simply dismissed her.

“I’m Rob Lucci,” he introduced himself and offered Zoro his hand. He shook it while he wiped his face with the other. Suddenly he remembered where he had heard the name before.

“You are Sanji’s landlord,” he said and Lucci nodded. “I am; and you are Zoro Roronoa, who temporarily lives at his apartment and injured my friend.”

“So that’s why you are here. Why didn’t you let them arrest me as well then?”

“Why would I? Did you do something you should be arrested for?” Lucci counter-questioned. This guy was sharp.

“Not in France.”

“Royal Navy business?” Lucci pressed and Zoro was surprised he actually knew about his being a marine.

“That and much more. Why are you really here?”

“You realise that I am a police offer, don’t you? Ordinary people would usually lie about their crimes. That’s quite a surprise.”

Zoro didn’t get yet what this conversation was all about. Furthermore, he didn’t like it. As well as this Lucci-guy’s presence. It made him feel even guiltier than he had already felt before. Great.

“There’s no need to. Either they are time-barred or they have the Royal Navy’s blessing. Now, answer my question.”

“Honest, aren’t you? I really just happened to drop by at Sanji’s place to check if everything was okay again with the heating and to say ‘hi’ to a friend. When I found him in the bathroom he looked quite a mess, as you surely can imagine.”
 

Zoro was sure the pause that followed was just for a dramatic effect so he remained silent.

“He didn’t really answer my questions and just mumbled something about being careless. When I left I heard your description in the radio message and thought maybe you could tell me what happened, swordfighter.”

“You are sharp,” Zoro replied and emptied his glass in one gulp. “But gossiping is not my strong point, you know? If he said noting happened then nothing happened.”
 

Well, that had been Zoro’s opinion before he had emptied the bottle of absinthe and had found himself completely wasted yet more talkative than usual. Lucci had stayed with him at the restaurant for the entire evening and half the night talking. Or, to be more precise, drinking his water, questioning him, and listening to whatever he had muttered.
 

The fact that Zoro was well aware of what he had said didn’t help improve his mood. In his opinion he had been lamenting like a sissy. In a Zoro-like way. He hadn’t really been babbling nonsense but telling Lucci he was sorry for hurting Sanji, swearing that it had been an accident and assuring to him that he had truly wanted to kill the cook but not at that time, hadn’t really boosted his ego.
 

Being unable to walk home without Lucci’s help was the last bit to make him regret leaving the apartment. He should have stayed home as well as he should have apologized to Sanji directly, then everything would have been fine and he wouldn’t have to feel like shit.
 

--END of chapter 8 ------------------
 

--------------- I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing :)-----------

19th Dec - Bad vibrations

French Affairs – Chapter 9
 

19th December - Bad vibrations
 

When Sanji heard the door of his apartment being unlocked he rose to his feet in wonderment and walked over to the hallway to see what was going on. As soon as he laid eyes on the two men standing in the doorway he felt his painstakingly held poise slip. Having Zoro disappearing on him again was a nuisance but he had kept his faith in the cognitively sub-optimised moss-ball’s decency to show up again. Now that he did, and even had Lucci with him, Sanji got royally pissed.

Lucci, the shitty bastard, could at least have called him and told him that he was accompanying the moron! A rather drunk moron on top of that.
 

Giving vent to his anger he yelled at Lucci: “Why the hell are you with him? Moreover, you let him get drunk like this and then dare to deliver this piece of shit home like I had no other problems than dealing with him!”

“He was causing trouble and I decided to have an eye on him so you wouldn’t have to bail him out of prison first thing in the morning,” Lucci explained bluntly and dragged Zoro over to the couch to let him slump on it.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Zoro stated sounding soberer than he obviously was.

“Why the hell are you hurt anyway, shitty bastard?” Sanji shouted at him but didn’t get a reply. This was so annoying the hell out of him.

“I’m talking to you!” he shouted again and slapped Zoro on the head to get his attention.

“If I were you I would hurry up and drag him over to the bathroom,” Lucci interrupted casually and sat down on the couch next to Zorro yet farther away than he would usually do.

“What?” Sanji asked irritated. “Why”?

“I guess he will throw up pretty soon.”

“This can’t be real,” Sanji sighed and slapped Zoro on the head once again. “Hey idiot, drag your arse over to the bathroom yourself! Feel me? I’ll freaking carve you if you dare to vomit on my couch!”

“No way in hell,” Zoro replied and Sanji felt his anger threaten to boil over. “Splendid! Moron! And here I thought you couldn’t get drunk.” So now the idiot wasn’t even able to walk these few meters into the bathroom. He would not carry him. Definitely.
 

“He had one bottle of absinthe,” Lucci said matter-of-factly.

“One entire bottle? If he dies on me tonight I swear I’ll kick your arse, Lucci.”

Zoro groaned a little and caught Sanji’s attention by it. The blonde cook watched his personal nightmare turning a little green in the face, thought it didn’t match his hair colour, and as soon as he realized that the bastard was torn between throwing up on the carpet or behind the backrest of the couch, he made a decision.
 

He lifted Zoro from the couch and carried him over to the bathroom. Bridal style. Much to his displeasure, since he would have preferred carrying one of the beautiful ladies he knew like that after marrying her. It was embarrassing, annoying, and a very close call.

Zoro threw up the moment his knees touched the ground. It grossed Sanji out, despite being a sorry picture seeing the proud swordfighter like this. It pissed Sanji off that Zoro had let himself go like this.

“Just you wait,” he grumbled standing right behind Zoro. “As soon as you are sober again I’ll kick your shitty arse. Making me worry by disappearing again. How the fuck do you think I could explain your running off to Ruffy for the second time, eh?”

“Cook,” Zoro was able to mutter between gagging.

“What is it?”

“Shut up.”

Sanji did and even left Zoro alone so he could send some more prayers to the porcelain god without being watched. It was not that exciting to watch him anyway.
 

Back in the living room he sat down next to Lucci on the couch and surveyed him. He looked as disinterested as always. Heavens knew why the sweet and beautiful Robin was in love with him.

“What happened?” Sanji asked.

“He got drunk at the Au Diable Vos Verres, picked a fight with someone called Daz Bones, and got even drunker afterwards.”

Well, that was one hell of a precise and colourful description.

“How do you fit in the picture?”

“I heard the police radio messages by chance and the description fit the picture in his Royal Navy personnel file, so I decided to give it a try and go check it.”

“Like Zoro and some other idiot would listen to my landlord telling them to stop whatever they were doing. As whom did you introduce yourself?”

“Police. That’s what I officially am, you know?”

“I do. Telling people ‘hands up, this is the CP9, special task force of the SIS, better known as the MI6’ wouldn’t have the same effect, I guess.”

“Correct.”

Lucci was such a party pooper with his unfunny attitude. So, back to the main topic.
 

“Why did the idiot run off? Did he tell you?”

“He did.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

Could this be true? This bastard knew everything and refused to share his wisdom? On the other hand, this was Lucci. He was the most secretive man Sanji had ever met, which was the main reason he trusted him.

“Fine, forget it,” Sanji added and yawned. “I’ll ask the turf-head tomorrow.”

“Very well. I’ll take my leave now. Take care.”
 

Lucci had been right on time to be gone when said nausea-fighter showed up in the living room again. Sanji looked at him with resentment.

“Usually it’s not my stile but I hope you have a really shitty hangover tomorrow,” he spat and got up. He put his hand on Zoro’s back and pushed him towards his bedroom making sure the idiot didn’t disappear again.

“I’m sorry,” Zoro suddenly said.

“Fuck you. Tell me that when you are sober or leave it, shithead.”

“Why are you so bitchy? I’m trying to be nice here,” Zoro complained. After sitting down on his bed he leaned over very carefully to remove his shoes. Sanji hoped the retard wouldn’t throw up again. Else he would have to kill him. While watching him struggling with his boot laces, he answered his question.
 

“I’m angry because you cut my chest and then blamed me for it—as if I could really predict your fucking movements. How the hell am I supposed to know that you do round-house strikes when you never did it before, eh? And best for last: You ran off again and, although I told you to take at least my mobile with you when you leave, you didn’t. And when you finally return you are pissed as a fart and bleeding,” Sanji explained but Zoro looked like he didn’t get it.

“All of this tells me what?”

“That you are an arsehole, everything is your damn fault and you’re a shitty nuisance. I can’t wait for you to leave and give me my life back again!”

Since Zoro had appeared, he had been messing with Sanji’s neatly ordered life, but up until now Sanji hadn’t considered it a bother.
 

Directing his attention back on Zoro he realised, that he looked at him like a kicked puppy. Seeing him like that was most likely the only good part in having him really drunk—not because Sanji liked it, but because it was a very honest reaction. Notoriously, drunkards and children told the truth and maybe Zoro really was sorry.

But Sanji wouldn’t let him get off the hook so easily. He wanted the moron to be honest when he was sober. He wanted him to learn his lesson and apologize so he didn’t have to be angry with him anymore. And most of all, he wanted him to stay. Sanji left without saying another word.
 

--- Thank you so much for reading my story ---

:) and thank you just as much for you comments :)

20th Dec - Hangover the 2nd

French Affairs – Chapter 10
 

20th December - Hangover the 2nd
 

Zoro awoke experiencing the worst hangover ever. The only times when he had felt as wrecked as now had been when his best friend and his mother had died, what had been more than 15 years ago. He hadn’t even felt this beaten after Mihawk had sliced him.
 

Much to his dismay he could clearly remember everything he had done and said during the last night. Also he could clearly recall that the cook had said he looked forward to getting rid of him. He didn’t like it.

“Ah, stuff and nonsense,” he shrugged his thoughts off and got up. Just the pure notion of becoming attached enough to the cook to actually care about it disturbed him. Still he wouldn’t turn into a sissy just because he temporarily lived with one.
 

Luckily he was still dressed so he didn’t have to bother with it this early in the morning. He had other problems like apologizing to the soup-adulterator. Again. Despite the fact that Zoro Roronoa was never sorry! Or he never admitted it at least. Thanks to the green fairy for breaking his philosophy.
 

Tramping over to the kitchen he thought about what to do. Luck had it that the cook wasn’t there and had left quite a mess. Maybe doing the dishes would do as an apology.

After breaking the first glass Zoro knew that he would need to apologize for his attempted apology.

“Bloody fragile dishes bullshit,” he cursed picking the shards of glass out of the rinse water and accidentally cutting his fingers. If he managed letting the shards disappear without the cook noticing he might be able to avoid bowing his head to the prick. Or so he thought. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t as sober as his mind and so he broke a cup next.
 

“What a godforsaken beastly job!” he cursed again when he was done washing the last plate.

“I’m glad you don’t work as a dishwasher,” Sanji’s voice sounded from the kitchen door and caused Zoro to drop the plate he held in hands. The crash was deafening and shards flew all over the kitchen floor.

Zoro could do nothing more than staring at the cook who leant against the door frame and was visibly fighting for composure.

“I appreciate your efforts but suggest you stop breaking more of my stuff now and sit down,” Sanji said walking over to Zoro and took the tea towel he still held in hands away from him. “You. Chair. Now.”
 

Zoro obeyed struggling for words but without success. This was excruciating.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Sanji suddenly asked when he had finished sweeping the floor and Zoro found his voice again.

“Yes, please,” he said and it didn’t sound right. He never begged for something. Much to his surprise, Sanji simply started percolating coffee without mocking him or nagging. He just asked: “How’s your head?”

“Fine.” Okay, it was a lie. So what?

“You don’t have a hangover?”

“I do. It’s just not as bad as I expected it to be.” It was worse. Thinking about his dead beloved ones first thing in the morning was nothing he would pay for.
 

They fell silent again while Sanji finished drying the dishes and put it away. It wasn’t as awkward as Zoro had imagined it to be. Nonetheless the inevitable question was asked.

“Why did you run off again?” Zoro took a deep breath. He was a fighter. He could do this.

“You told me to leave,” he said truthfully.

“When I told you to ‘get out’ I meant the bathroom, not the apartment, idiot.”

“Last night you meant your life.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Zorro remained silent but he could feel his expression slip. Most likely he was still drunk else it wouldn’t have bothered him so much to be not welcome anymore.

“I can’t stand you when you are like this,” Sanji suddenly stated out and placed the coffee cup on the table in front of Zoro. “You don’t give the impression of being a fighter.”

“Sod you,” Zoro murmured into his cup and sipped his coffee. He didn’t have the nerve to argue, since a heavy metal concert was given behind his forehead. Against any reason Sanji smiled. “There’s no need to get rude. I think I remember you being so endearingly upright last night.”
 

Zoro knew precisely what Sanji meant and wanted but hesitated in reacting. If he should ever come to terms with apologizing to the windbag he would definitely not do it at his command.

“I won’t apologize,” he declared.

“You already did it last night. Now do it again.”

“No. You know I didn’t hurt you on purpose,” Zoro stated and suddenly Sanji smiled again. It was a very content smile and Zoro couldn’t catch its meaning, although he was sure he had unknowingly passed whatever wicked trial the blonde had made him do.

“I’m willing to let that count, wasabi-brain,” Sanji confirmed his guess in an equally pleased voice.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, veggie peeler, but you should let your head get examined.” It wasn’t really that bad to have a genuine smile directed at him but Zoro couldn’t handle the confusion it caused. Sanji was supposed to be angry with him, screaming at him, kicking his arse or something like that and not be forgiving. It was making Zoro the bad guy.

“I need a shower,” he said just to get away from him.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I like you better when you are sleeping, smart-arse,” Zoro stated mumbling and left for the bathroom.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean, moron?” Sanji called after him but he ignored it for the time being.
 

Congratulating himself for being an idiot he stepped into the shower. Three words. Three fucking words and he hadn’t been able to say them. Therefore he had to deal with Sanji’s benevolence. He hated it.

There would have been tons of ways to force him to apologize. Kicking him, punching him, cutting him, denying him food or liquor, anything. And what had the anchovy tamer done? Nothing. He had read an apology into his refusal to apologise. That was not fair! He needed to come up with something to get back at the cook.

At least he didn’t feel guilty anymore.
 

Stepping into the living room the cook already was waiting for him with a sour expression.

“I want an explanation,” he simply said. Naturally, Zoro didn’t have the faintest idea what the blonde diva was talking about.

“Of what? I’m not in the mood for playing games right now,” Zoro replied and went over to his room. Seriously, did he look like he had no other problems than the cook’s whims?

“Of that ‘liking me better when sleeping’ statement of yours.”
 

Zoro stopped in track and raised an eyebrow in confusion. He knew he had said it but it hadn’t thought of it as discussion-worthy. Sleeping the cook didn’t do as much harm as he did when he was awake. Presumably.

“Forget it. I guess I was wrong anyway,” he just said.

“That doesn’t explain anything,” Sanji insisted.

“I never explain anything that obvious.”

“Secretive, aren’t you? See, I’m trying my best not to smash your head every second I’ve got to see your face. Instead I’m being nice to you and what for?” Sanji replied angrily and started searching his pockets for a cigarette.

“For my pleasure?” Zoro asked rhetorically and emptied his cup. “That was a really tasty coffee. Thank you very much, dear cook-san.” He rose to his feet, put his cup into the sink and took a deep breath before facing Sanji again, who was watching him with a quizzical look.

“You still don’t get it?” Zoro asked.

“Obviously not,” Sanji stated.

“You were drunk as a fart and way too talkative while being awake,” he replied confidently. “Even now you are more than I can bear.”

“Oh, really? I wonder how you can bear Ruffy,” Sanji stated but didn’t know when to stop. “After all you haven’t been with him for too long over the last couple of years, but believe me he’s talking more than I do.” he added.

“I know that!” Zoro growled and clenched his fists. Oh, he couldn’t even describe how much he hated the cook right now. Voicing his biggest concern like it was a chat about the weather. Zoro had brooded about his being home day and night for the last months. What if he wouldn’t get along with his baby-brother? What if the Nami-witch was more than he could deal with for the time being? What if this, what if that. It freaked him out and he hated it. And after all, the last thing he needed was Sanji to fan his fear.

“Stop talking, cook, or I swear I’ll make you.” he huffed.

Sanji looked at him for what felt like eternity before he sighed and raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine. It didn’t belong to me to say that. I’m sorry.”

Zoro’s tension subsided and he sighed.

“Finally you understood.” he said and left the kitchen. It was high time for him to start his training. Maybe it would help him getting rid of his still murderous headache and this nasty feeling in his stomach. Hopefully from now on everything in his dotty relationship with Sanji would go back to normal. Whatever that was.
 

Like every evening Sanji came fetching him for dinner and just like Zoro had hoped, they lapsed back into their usual way of conversing with each other. His hangover had nearly subsided and he felt quite good. The only thing troubling him was his sense of taste, which seemed to play tricks on him. His supposed red curry chicken tasted, well, not like curry at all. Furthermore it didn’t smell like curry.

“Hey kitchen fairy, is it me or does your food taste odd?”

“My food never tastes odd. Has the mould from your head finally befallen your tongue?” Sanji revolted.

“Did you try it?”

“I don’t need to. I know what I’m doing.”

“Which means no, snail shell-brow. I suggest you do.”

“I was about to eat anyway, kryptonite-head.”

It was frightfully funny for Zoro to watch Sanji taste his food. The cook fought so hard not to make a face it was nearly choking Zoro to hold back his laughter.

“Well,” Sanji said as dignified as possible, “I guess I created something new.”

“What’s it called? Ode to bad taste, cinnamon-curl?”

“Shut up and eat it!”

“And if I don’t want it?”

“Then I’ll shove it down your throat. I don’t waste food so you and I will eat this. Period.”

Zorro was more than happy that it didn’t really taste bad. He didn’t like cinnamon more or less than anything else so it didn’t make much of a difference to him. Culinary subtlety had never been his strong point anyway. Food was food and better than nothing.

“I said ‘if’, remember? There’s no need to take offence.” he mumbled.

“Everything you do is offending me.”

“It is not!”

“It is!”

“Okay, it is,” Zoro suddenly admitted.

“What?”

“Everything I do is offending you, because everything you do is provoking me.”

“Don’t start that again!” Sanji groaned.

Zoro finally couldn’t hold it anymore and started laughing. It felt good to be back on habitual territory.

“Right. Now eat your damn food, cook.”
 

--- End of chapter 10 ---
 

:)

21st Dec - Last Day pt. 1

French Affairs – Chapter 11
 

When Zoro awoke the next morning he felt like a million dollars. Much to his surprise it was still dark outside when he got up and put on his training clothes. He felt the need to run, to work out and to actually do more than meditating and practicing iaido for the upcoming tournament. He needed to get a clear head and the best way for doing that was running.

He got up, put his workout gear on and sneaked into the bathroom.

After giving himself a catlick and brushing his teeth he grabbed Sanji’s mobile, which lay on the worktop in the kitchen like always, and left the apartment. He knew he would get lost, since he had no intention of paying attention to wherever he was running.
 

It was cold outside and fresh snow covered the street and the pavement. Only the faint noises of Zoro’s steps broke the silence around him and with every step he took he felt more comfortable in his skin. Every troubling second he had experienced over the last couple of days got less and less important. Thinking about it he came to the conclusion that he liked being in France at least a little. And Sanji wasn’t as much of a pest as Zoro had first thought he was. Actually he was kind of nice. But getting attached was out of the question. Period.
 

After quite a while Zoro reached the park where Sanji had picked him up on his first day in Paris, if he remembered correctly. He ran along an avenue towards a huge obelisk, passed it by only to arrive at the Moulin Rouge a while later and when he finally reached the Basilique du Sacre Coeur Sanji’s mobile rang. The sun had started to rise a while ago and when Zoro looked on the display he could see that it was almost 9 a. m.
 

“What is it?” he said after picking up, enjoying the marvellous view over Paris he had. Really, being here wasn’t that bad at all.

“Good morning, marimo. Where are you?” Sanji asked and Zoro could hear the clicking of his lighter.

“I’m enjoying the sunrise at a really fancy palace. Or church. Or mosque. Care to join me?”

“Judging by your description you must be at Sacre Coeur. You’ve been gone for over three hours, while Sacre Coeur is barely twenty minutes by feet. Did you get lost again?” Sanji replied overhearing Zoro’s invitation.

“I guess I did but at least you seem to know where to pick me up, fancy-brow. Now get your arse dressed and come over.”

Zoro heard Sanji rummaging around and the clanking of keys.

“I swear to God when you are not there when I arrive, I’m going to kick your arse so hard you can taste the leather of my shoes, you feel me, moron?”

“I’d rather not. I’ve already felt more of you than is decent in our state of relationship. And after all you felt me up the night you were drunk as a fart, remember?,” Zoro teased and for a moment Sanji fell silent at the other end of the line.

“Hell no! I didn’t feel you up! What’s wrong with you? You are a nail of my coffin, I fucking know it, shitty bastard,” he sighed and hung up while a content grin spread on Zoro’s lips.
 

Leaning against one of the balustrades he stood there in front of the basilica, waiting for the cook and taking in the first light of the day. Amazingly Sanji was jogging up the stairway just a little while later, white clouds erupting from his mouth.

“You are late,” he welcomed him without turning to face him.

“Ten minutes is a great time considering that I was not running, okay?”

“Did you fear I would disappear on you?”

“Of course. You already did it twice, remember?”

“You worry too much,” Zoro stated and finally looked over to him. Sanji’s nose and cheeks were getting red from the cold. It looked stupid.
 

“Since this is our last day together,” Sanji said and got Zoro’s full attention by that, “I guess we could spend the day doing something more interesting than being home, don’t you agree?”

“Did you pack my bags to kick me out in the end?” Zoro asked more than irritated. According to his information he was supposed to stay at Sanji’s place until the 25th of December when he and the others would return to England again. Somehow it didn’t really make him happy to get thrown out after all. Yesterday had been rather uneventful so he didn’t get it. Damn.

“Oh, heavens,” Sanji sighed. “Now you don’t look like a kicked puppy anymore but like an abandoned one. Are you sure you are sober yet?”

“I’m not a puppy,” Zoro growled slightly embarrassed for letting his expression betray him.

“And I sure as hell didn’t pack your stinky clothes, shithead.”

“What are you talking about then?” This guy was getting to him and it didn’t please him. It made him feel inferior and predictable. Seriously, he had never considered himself inferior before. He was the frigging demon cutter, the feared pirate hunter—and definitely no shitty puppy or some other sort of wimp, for fuck’s sake!
 

“I’m talking about your family arriving tomorrow, shit-for-brains,” Sanji explained and Zoro still didn’t get it.

“I know that they’ll be here tomorrow. But I don’t see why today would be our last day. You don’t suffer from an incurable disease and die tonight, do you?” Probably Sanji suffered from medicament-induced eyebrow curling, he mused. He sure as hell had never read something like that on a package insert. And it didn’t sound lethal on top of that.

“Hell no, idiot. Lucky as I am I will most likely die from something as unspectacular as a nosebleed. I wouldn’t mind it though as long as it is in the arms of some enticing beauty,” Sanji pondered and Zoro couldn’t believe it. That was so macho, so un-cool, so idiotic, so worth getting your head smashed for.

“Get to the point, hormone-victim,” he growled and rubbed his temples.

“Ah, sorry.”

“I don’t really care as long as you don’t unnerve me with your sexual frustration,” he stated hitting the bull’s eye.

“I am not frustrated!” Sanji objected utterly offended.

“I know you are. I’m the great sage. Now get to the point!”

Sanji took a deep breath and Zoro could see how much he struggled not to explode right now and jump at his throat. A cocky grin spread on his lips.

“Fine,” Sanji took another deep breath, “Fine. Whatever. I planned on letting my dear friends stay at a hotel—just like I had planned for you to begin with—but Ruffy can be very convincing, if you know what I mean. He decided for all of you to stay at my apartment, since it would be unfair if I only cooked for you, which is an understandable argument. So from tomorrow onwards it will be a little cramped in your room, in my room, in the living room, and especially in the kitchen. Do you get it now?”

“Honeymoon is over.”

“What honeymoon?”

Zoro just waved it aside.

“That was a joke. Where are all of us supposed to sleep?” Zoro asked to get back to the main topic.

“Isn’t it obvious? The lovely Nami and Ruffy will sleep in my room since it’s the farthest room from the kitchen, you and Chopper will sleep in your room, and Lysop and I will sleep in the living room.”

“Sounds reasonable. So, what did you have in mind to entertain me today?”

“Nothing. My mind must have been benighted for a moment to suggest spending the day together. Forget it.”

“Be a man of your word and come up with something interesting.”

“The opera?”

“Hell no.”

“Theatre?”

“Over my dead body.”

“The museum?”

“Don’t be an arse. I said ‘interesting.,”

“Hmmm. You are very pick, you know? What if I said I have the perfect entertainment for you but you will have to trust me in choosing it?”

“Do you say it or don’t you? I don’t like this what-if bullshit,” Zoro retorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He knew the cook had been teasing with his former proposals and Zoro would never admit that he was curious about what he had up his sleeve, but he was nonetheless.
 

Sanji lit up a cigarette and cracked a content smile. Damn! This bastard could read thoughts! Or maybe Zoro really was predictable. He snorted angrily while Sanji just turned around and descended the staircase. That prick was so sure Zoro would follow him it was a royal pain in the arse. But he did follow after all.

“I need my phone,” Sanji said as soon as Zoro reached him and held out his hand. Muttering insults into his beard Zoro handed it over and glared daggers at him.

“It better be good,” he finally snapped before he fell silent to listen what Sanji had to say over the phone.
 

“Hi, it’s Sanji. How are you?” the cook said and went on after he had been greeted back. It was bothering Zoro that he couldn’t hear what the person on the other end of the phone said.

“Are you free right now? I promised a little entertaining to a friend. Oh, and bring your things with you. Precisely. Half an hour. Lovely. See you.”

“So?” Zoro asked, now even more curious.

“We need to get home, grab some stuff and then we’ll head over to your surprise.”
 

Precisely half an hour later they stood in front of the apartment below Sanji’s and Zoro wasn’t sure if he just got punked. Why else would Sanji have refrained from forcing him to change his clothes? The only thing Sanji had done was grabbing a sports bag and telling Zoro to go fetch his swords. Whatever that had been supposed to mean. But Zoro hadn’t felt the need to think about it for too long, since he had known he would get the answer quite soon. He just had tucked his swords in his haramaki and had followed Sanji downstairs.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, barely hiding his anger.

“Don’t be so pushy, you will understand soon enough,” the cook replied and knocked at the door which got opened a couple of seconds later.
 

A blonde man with a nose worth Lysop’s opened it and smiled at them.

“Welcome. Please come in,” he said and opened the door wide enough for them to enter. “My name is Kaku, pleased to meet you, Zoro.”

Zoro nodded towards him and raised an eyebrow in question. “Why the hell does everyone I meet here seem to know me?”

“Because to some of us it’s impossible to not know the pirate hunter,” Kaku stated, the smile never leaving his face. They took of their jackets and put them on the wardrobe when Sanji asked a little confused: “Pirate hunter? Why’s that?”

Obviously he didn’t share his friend’s knowledge.

“You could also call him the demon cutter if you want to.”

“How can you know this?” Zoro growled. “Did Lucci tell you?”

“Partly he did. The rest I know from your personnel file. You are even a Colour Sergeant—that’s quite impressing at your age.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything in those files. I don’t deserve this rank.”

“But you have it. You could at least try to prove you are worthy of it.”

“Great. I am stuck with a nicotine-dependent cook and a moralizer. Very funny.”
 

Whatever he was here for, he didn’t want it anymore. All he had wanted was to have a nice day with Sanji, as unbelievable as it sounded, and not some coming to terms with the past.

“I’m sorry, Zoro. I didn’t mean to stir up unwanted memories,” Kaku apologized and pointed towards the living room. “Shall we?”

Stepping inside Zoro had a faint idea of what was going to happen. This was no living room but a sports complex. Nice.

The floor was partly covered with training mats instead of a carpet, the wall opposite of the windows was covered with mirrors and art nouveau bars of steel were installed in front of the windows—on the inside.

“What is this?” Zoro asked suddenly in higher spirits.

“This is our exercise room,” Sanji said and a chuffed smile appeared on his face when he realised Zoro’s change of mind. “I thought you might like to train for real before the tournament.”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful now but you could have shown this to me days ago.”

“No. You were an arse the entire time. Why would I reward you for it?”

“Have you never heard about the carrot-and-stick policy?” Kaku interrupted their dialogue and went on talking when he only got puzzled looks as an answer. “I guess Zoro was a good boy yesterday and gets his carrot now.”

“Right,” Zoro growled. “A really good boy. Like a nice little puppy. I’m out of here.”

Zorro turned on his heel and left the apartment. His good mood had evaporated and now it touched the bottom. Since he had arrived in France everyone seemed to feel the need to make fun of him. He was sick of it.

“Zoro wait!” Sanji called after him and rushed out of the door after him. Zoro didn’t. He was fed up to the back teeth. Being nice was shit and you got kicked for it. He went upstairs and waited in front of the door for Sanji to arrive.

“Open it,” he commanded still growling.

“What for?” Sanji asked still flustered.

“So I can get my stuff and leave this madhouse. I’ve had enough!”
 

Instead of receiving a verbal answer he felt Sanji’s foot connecting with his head and made him smash against Sanji’s entrance door.

“You’ve had enough? How about me?” Sanji yelled. “You are not the only one who has reached the end of his patience!”

“Get away from me or I swear I’ll fucking lose it and shred you to peaces!”

“Then try it!”

Without hesitation Zoro’s instincts overtook his body and he unsheathed one of his swords faster than he could digest and went after Sanji, who tapped the tip of his shoe against the floor in anticipation. Whatever defence Zoro had expected it was not this. Sanji quickly bowed his torso backwards until his hands rested on the highest stair and thrust his legs upwards out of the same movement. He kicked Zoro’s sword aside and hit his chin with the other foot. The momentum wept Zoro off his feet and down the stairs so he crashed into the wall opposite the exercise apartment.
 

Getting up on his feet again he shook his head to regain a clear vision and smiled a menacing smile at the cook promising payback. Sanji descended the stairs casually as if what had just happen was none of his business.

“Get inside. Now,” he ordered and passed Zoro by.

The door hadn’t even closed behind Zoro when he went after the cook again. He had tasted blood and it screamed for more. Entering the living room he was rushed of his feet again but rolled over his shoulder to get up out of the same movement. Leaping forward he aimed next to Sanji’s torso but quickly changed the movement of his thrust so he hit his chest with the back of his katana. Sanji panted in pain.

Zoro stepped back and drew his second sword. Getting into a fighting stance again Sanji waved him over and smiled. Zoro didn’t move. He just waited for the other man to attack. He did. Three swift spin-kicks followed by a jumped roundhouse-kick initiated his attack, driving Zoro through the room.

He dodged Sanji’s attacks without getting a chance to counter. Sanji dropped to his knees trying to sweep him off his feet by a left-hand turn again. Zoro jumped over his feet but got almost hit in the face by Sanji’s left foot as he lifted his legs almost to a handstand from the build momentum. Zoro blocked it with one of his swords and did a backwards spin to hit Sanji’s abdomen with his second sword’s back.

The blonde cook crashed on his back but jumped to his feet with a kip up immediately, got into a handstand and forcefully smashed his foot right into Zoro’s face, making him stumble and crash against the wall.
 

The speed they fought with increased and so did the force and passion. Each of them gave his everything to beat the other and make him remember his loss by marking him with bruises and split skin. But Zoro never once considered really hurting the blonde. In an actual battle he would have killed him several times already—and he was sure Sanji would have found a way to either break his neck or smash his windpipe just as often. With a final hit into the back of Sanji’s knee and a fierce blow to his head he had him on the floor beneath him and pinned him by kneeling onto his back and leaning his sword slightly against his throat. It was a thrilling feeling to have Sanji pushed down beneath him.
 

“So you want to call it a tie then?” Sanji asked and Zoro could see him smirk, blood covering his face.

“You are pinned down with my sword at your neck and try to bargain?” the swordfighter asked and put a little more weight on the cook’s back.

“I offer you a graceful end. Else I’ll have to maul you.”

“You really think you could do that?”

“But of course.”

“I assure you, Zoro, he can,” Kaku interrupted, still wearing his unreadable smile. He had sat down at the entrance of the exercise room and watched their fight in silence.

“A tie then.” Zoro got up and offered his hand to the cook who accepted it.

“For a shitty cook you are not that bad,” he said and sheathed his swords.

“For a shithead you did well,” Sanji replied. “But you could have let me change at least, you know? This suit was expensive.”

“There you go again,” Zoro sighed and directed his attention towards Kaku. “Sorry for having him call you here and make you sit around in the end.”

“I don’t mind it. It was very interesting to watch you, Zoro. You sure have the potential to become the number one swordfighter one day.”

“But not now?” Zoro pushed further even though he knew the answer himself. Winning over Mihawk in kendo was possible, winning over Mihawk in a swordfight was possible as well, but improbable.

“I don’t know,” Kaku replied. “I never saw Mihawk fighting with something other than a shinai. Otherwise I would have to arrest him. Swordfights are illegal, you know?”

“I do,” was all Zoro answered. “Why did you come here anyway?”

“To fight you, of course.”

That answer was dumbfounding.

“Didn’t you say just now that swordfights are illegal?”

“I did. They are. But, since I know that I have no intention of killing you and I doubt that you would intend to kill me for no reason, it wouldn’t be a real ‘fight’ but some sort of intense training, you know?”

Zoro understood perfectly. Everything could be interpreted as you needed it, especially the law.

“So be it.” Zoro said and cracked a smile. Man, he was a lucky guy to have gotten introduced to Kaku. It was always interesting to meet swordfighters who had charisma. Hopefully Kaku also had skills in swordfighting.

“I’ll get back on that pretty soon but now I’m lacking time. Your fight took longer than expected. I’ll contact you when I have the time to train with you, Zoro.”

Zoro nodded.

“Well then. Curly-brow, let’s head home. I could use breakfast now.”

“Breakfast?” Sanji asked and raised an eyebrow. “You mean lunch, my dear.”

“What time is it?” Zoro asked in confusion. They couldn’t have fought longer than fifteen minutes at most. At least it felt like it.

“Half past twelve,” Kaku answered and Zoro looked a proper Charlie. That meant that he and Sanji had fought for about two hours. Jesus Christ and that without breaking anything, except for some parts of their skin, or being dead beat. Exhausted, yes, sweaty, hell yeah, even bleeding, but he felt great. Either he was in better shape than he had expected or the prick had gone easy on him again. Looking over to Sanji and seeing him pant slightly assured him, that both of them were simply in good shape and in high spirits.
 

“So lunch it will be,” he said with a satisfied smile.
 

--- End of Chapter 11 ----

21st Dec - Last Day pt. 2

French Affairs – Chapter 12
 

21st December - Last Day pt. 2
 

Stepping into the bathroom Sanji still couldn’t believe what had happened over the last days. He had fucked up dinner yesterday. For the first time since he had become a chef. Naturally the worst part about it was that the dimwit had been the one to notice it first and not him. No matter how hard he thought about it he didn’t get why in hell he had mixed up red curry and cinnamon. Things like that didn’t happen to him. They mustn’t happen to him.
 

To him it was a fact that the moron was driving him crazy. Even his dreams last night had been wicked. He couldn’t recall them clearly but he remembered the feeling of them. They had been oppressive, disturbing, and exciting all at once. It had almost felt like he felt now.
 

His entire body was still trembling from the thrill of the fight he had had with Zoro. He knew he could have defeated him if he really had wanted to but he hadn’t. The moment when he had felt the swordfighter’s weight on his back and the blade of his sword against his throat his guts had tightened in excitement, which, incredible as it was, he had liked.
 

He undressed and walked over to the mirror to examine the damage the brute had caused. It was nothing to get worried about even though he looked quite havocked. His hair was a mess and his face was covered in dried blood. He hadn’t even realised that his nose had started bleeding at some point and his lower lip was split. Nice. That promised to be really interesting to explain to his friends tomorrow since Zoro didn’t look much better.

Still, the bruises Sanji had gotten all over his body were not that bothersome to him since he could cover them up pretty nicely with clothing. Luckily the cut on his chest was healing well, even though it had reopened at several locations.
 

Speaking of the devil it knocked at the door and Zoro’s voice sounded through it. “Hurry up a little, curlicue! I don’t have all day to stand around waiting for you.”

“So what else did you plan for today?” Sanji replied nonchalantly and stepped into the shower. Slowly but surely he got hungry himself so it would be pointless to make the marimo wait longer than necessary.

“Taking a shower,” he growled through the door. “The longer you take the more blood will drip on your carpet, escalope juggler.”

“I’ll shred your arse to pieces and fry it for your lunch if I find a single stain on my carpet!” Sanji yelled over the noise of the running water. It burned on his face and ran down the drain in red rivers.

“Nice. Low fat cuisine,” Zoro growled but didn’t nag any further.
 

Sanji quickly finished his shower and got dressed in black leisure pants and a dusky pink tank-top. Exiting the bathroom he stumbled over Zoro’s legs and whirled around just to find the moron leaning against the wall, soundly snoring.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said and slightly kicked Zoro’s leg. “You can take a shower now.”

“Wow, that’s a colour I wouldn’t even wear over my dead body. Red is rather… tricky…” Zoro said noticing his shirt.

“That’s why I’m wearing it. And it’s not red but dusky pink.”

“That doesn’t make it better. Now it even sounds gay.”

“Shut up and take your shower, arseshole! I’ll prepare lunch.”

“Are you sure you can do it on your own?” Zoro teased and Sanji decided to just ignore him. The idiot was right after all.

“We could eat out tonight,” Sanji suggested and Zoro looked at him in disbelief.

“I’m serious. Just because I’m a chef doesn’t mean that I don’t eat out, okay?”

Zoro just shrugged. “I don’t care. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

Well, if that wasn’t a huge step into the right direction in their relationship Sanji didn’t know what else it could possibly be.

“Fine. Do you have any decent clothing with you?”

“Why don’t you go and check it yourself?” Zoro said and slammed the door shut.

“Are you serious?” Sanji asked through the door.

“Do whatever the hell you want, ringlet!”
 

That was a unique opportunity. He could shove Zoro into a suit and try to make him at least look like a human being. Or he could be gracious and pick a less fancy restaurant. Nah, he had already been way too nice to the idiot. A malicious smile spread on his lips and made it crack open again.

“Damn!” he cursed under his breath and sucked his lip in. He went over to the kitchen and prepared lunch. Having Zoro perform a fashion parade for him could wait until later.
 

When Zoro appeared in the kitchen a little while later he looked pretty annoyed wearing just his bath towel.

“So? Did you find anything to take a fancy to, shit-cook?” he growled raising an eyebrow when Sanji shook his head and smiled at him.

“I haven’t taken a look yet,” he replied and put a plate with marinated chicken, rice and salad on his place at the table. “I thought you might want to eat first.”

“Mmmh,” Zoro hummed as a reply and took a seat. “So, what did you fuck up today?”

“Nothing. Lunch is as perfect as it ought to be, shit-for-brains,” Sanji retorted and took a seat himself.

“If you say so.” Zoro grabbed his fork and started eating. Sanji followed his every movement with his glance.

“So?” Sanji asked after he had taken the first few bites.

“Listen, cook. We can play this ‘Tell me how great I am’-game over and over again to boost your shitty ego and annoy the hell out of me or you can let me eat in peace.”

“Lovely. Bon appétit.” Reading between the lines when listening to Zoro was so much fun it made Sanji hate the fact that he would leave soon even more.

Yet, above all Sanji preferred annoying Zoro but, since he wanted him to play along tonight, he considered it slightly smarter to shut up for now.
 

After finishing lunch and doing the dishes he finally remembered that Zoro was still sitting around wearing nothing but his bath towel.

“Are you ready for the catwalk?” Sanji asked and smirked. Meanwhile he had decided where he would go with Zoro tonight. Hopefully, the ogre owned some clothes to posh up his appearance at least a tiny bit.

“Catwalk? Are you insane?”

“I just want you to put on some of your clothes so I can pick the best looking ones,” Sanji explained and Zoro’s agonized expression was more than hilarious.

“I don’t want to,” Zoro stated and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “That’s stupid.”

“Don’t be a baby. It will be worth it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You haven’t even heard the name of the restaurant yet and doubt the outcome already?”

“Spill it.”

“Perishing Hall ,” Sanji said and smirked. He knew it sounded a little strange but it was worth every cent. The ambience was exquisite, the food was good, and the barkeepers were extraordinarily skilful. Even the trefoil would have to appreciate it.

“I’m not supposed to wear a burial gown, am I?” Zoro sighed and rose to his feet.

Sanji just laughed and went over to Zoro’s room.
 

Picking clothes for Zoro had actually been quite nice. Much to Sanji’s surprise the swordsman had a rather well taste in clothing and Sanji didn’t need long to choose what he liked best. All the time Zoro hadn’t said a single word. Sanji had asked about it but Zoro had simply shaken his head and put on the clothing Sanji had chosen.
 

Now that they were lead to their table at the restaurant by a waiter Sanji got an impression of what could have bothered the swordsman to begin with and, judging from his frowning face, still did. They were attracting attention. He noticed heads turning and whispers erupting behind them. Even the waiter had sized them up when they had entered and Sanji wasn’t able to tell if he had tried to figure if they were out for trouble or what else he could have tried to figure. After all they still looked pretty damaged. Especially Zoro’s split eyebrow was a highly decorative eye catcher and combined with his angry face Sanji could have understood if they had gotten kicked out. But they hadn’t.
 

Sanji took a look around and found everything just like he had remembered it. The three story high ceiling was shimmering in pink, orange, yellow and green light gleaming from the balconies directed at the guestroom, which lined the first and second floor’s inside walls and from the greened wall along the head side of the dining room. It had been breathtaking for him when he had been here for thee first time—and it still was.
 

They were led to a small round table with two chairs on a first floor balcony where they could overview the entire hall as well as the other balconies opposite. Up here no one seemed to really notice them, except for the beautiful waitress, which strolled over to their table, her red and curly hair waving and her hips slightly swaying as if she wanted to lure any male around her to bed.

Inevitably, Sanji lost it.
 

“Lovely ethereal being, you are the most beautiful lady I ever got to witness. Even angels must look plain next to you. I don’t even know how I was able to live without you around,” he babbled without even thinking about it.

“That’s very nice of you but I don’t think your boyfriend likes it,” she whispered to Sanji and demonstratively nodded towards Zoro who was emitting an aura of impending doom while he looked out into the dining hall.

“Oh, I see. But he is not my boyfriend,” Sanji replied dumbfounded and even forgot to wiggle around. Whatever he had done wrong, he knew Zoro would make him regret it pretty soon.

“Hey, soup greens. What’s up with that sour expression?” he asked after politely dismissing the waitress and leaned in closer to Zoro.

“I hate being sized up, I hate being here, and I hate your bloody embarrassing attitude towards this waitress,” he admitted and faced Sanji with an almost deadly glare.

“I told you before that it’s not funny when I have pretty women around,” Sanji defended himself. He should have known it would get on Zoro’s nerves. Yet the moron had missed the boyfriend part, which was bound to make him explode in fury. In an odd way Sanji looked forward to it.

“At least try to behave yourself when you have company,” Zoro added still annoyed but rather calm now as if he wanted to prove his superiority. “After all you are embarrassing me as well, you know?”

“I thought you were so high and mighty that it wouldn’t get to you,” Sanji hissed and leaned back in his seat. He didn’t want to be too close to Zoro when he dropped the bombshell. “Furthermore your acting the ‘jealous boyfriend’ gets us nowhere!”

That hit Zoro right between the eyes.
 

“I’m not acting anything here, ero-cook!” Zoro burst out and the first guests turned around to see what was going on.

“So you are jealous?” Sanji asked innocently.

“Hell, no!” It was incredible, unbelievable—but it happened nonetheless: Zoro blushed and it was not from anger. Sanji burst out laughing. That was priceless!

Calming down he looked at Zoro and found him facing the guest room again. Admittedly, he looked good and the leather pants and the tight black cotton pullover Sanji had picked out for him could mislead people to thinking he was gay and Sanji his boyfriend. What wasn’t that far fetched since Sanji knew he didn’t look much more discreet than Zoro, wearing a tight jeans and a white shirt. He suddenly realised that having two attractive men going out together was practically screaming for being misunderstood. But he didn’t care. No one in his right mind would even consider being hostile towards him or Zoro without regretting it ten seconds later at last.
 

The waitress appeared again, most likely because she considered the situation safe now that Zoro didn’t scream anymore.

“May I take your order, gentlemen?” she asked smiling and looked at Sanji in question when Zoro didn’t react.

“Moron, she is talking to you,” he tried to get Zoro’s attention.

“Just pick anything and stop bothering me,” he replied growling and Sanji smiled at the waitress apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” he said, now desperately fighting for keeping his posture and suppressing his urge to sweet-talk her again and kicking the moron’s head for being rude. He ordered two ‘plates from Japan’, a bottle of sake and a light white wine hoping that his moping guest would get his act together soon.

Obviously the waitress didn’t believe him that he and Zoro were no lovers. Whenever she passed him by she tried to cheer him up by making slight gestures that everything would be fine soon and he could lip-read that she thought of him and Zoro as a handsome couple. Perfect. Hopefully she wouldn’t tell that to Zoro since he was slowly but surely calming down.

Unfortunately the waitress had concluded that Zoro didn’t speak French, since Sanji had talked to him in English. When she passed by the next time she leaned over to Sanji and said: “Can I get your boyfriend anything to cheer him up? Like a drink or something?” What she had not thought of was that Zoro wasn’t entirely stupid. At least her pitying attitude towards Sanji was what did the trick and made Zoro talk again. He looked at her with an unreadable expression before he snarled: “Do me a favour and tell her, I am not your boyfriend and make her stop fucking pitying me, okay? I don’t need anything to cheer me up. I’m so happy the sun is shining out of my arse.”

Sanji didn’t need to translate that. She obviously understood the essence of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, monsieur. I’ll just leave now,” she apologized and left.

“That was rude,” Sanji remarked but still he was glad the moron talked again. Sitting around in silence was not what he considered an entertaining evening.
 

“I don’t care.”

“Zoro, I’m sorry for dragging you here but please stop being an arse and try to bear it like a man,” Sanji begged and couldn’t believe he really did it. He had known that Zoro was driving him insane but this was going way too far.

“That’s not it,” Zoro suddenly said all clam and collected. Sanji hadn’t heard him talk like this before ever and listened up.

“What is it then?” he asked as sympathetic as he could. He had seen Zoro in many states but none of them mirrored the current one the swordfighter was in.

“I’m just angry with myself,” he suddenly admitted and Sanji was flabbergasted.

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said but Zoro’s reaction told him that he didn’t share his opinion.

“I’ve caused you nothing but trouble since I arrived. I’m sorry.”

Sanji smiled a genuine smile and reached over the table to rest his hand on the moron’s forearm. Zoro looked at his hand in confusion before he raised his gaze to meet his eyes.

“I appreciate that,” Sanji said.

“Your dinner, gentlemen,” the waitress interrupted them while the look she gave them spoke volumes and only when Sanji saw it he realised what the scene must have looked like. He smirked at Zoro who looked like he was resigned to the fact that he would be considered Sanji’s boyfriend for the rest of the night.

“Don’t look so bloody satisfied,” Zoro sighed and picked up his chopsticks. “I know I’m eye candy enough so you can pride yourself on being considered my boyfriend but I don’t see where I benefit from it.”

“It’s my treat tonight.”

Zoro groaned in defeat but cracked a mischievous smile afterwards.

“You know that this will cost you dear.”

“I never expected anything else.”
 

---- End of chapter 12 ----

22nd Dec - Family

French Affairs – Chapter 13
 

Sitting at the breakfast table it was still a mystery to Zoro why he hadn’t refused playing along with Sanji’s whims. If he had known that the cook would actually enjoy acting his boyfriend he would have never set a foot into the restaurant. Most likely.

It hadn’t been too obtrusive at first but Zoro was not stupid and he had noticed the slight changes in the cook’s behaviour. He had made bedroom eyes here, cracked an inviting smile there and called his name with a husky intonation every once in a while—it had been highly unsettling for Zoro to be the one all this folderol had been directed at.

When he had realised that the cook had been drinking wine while he hadn’t paid attention and since it had kicked in before he could actually do something about it, Sanji had turned a little more daring and started touching him more frequently. A caress over his arm here, putting his hand on Zoro’s there. Zoro had tried to ignore it and keep there conversation to harmless topics. He had succeeded and when the time had come to pay the bill he had nearly fainted hearing the total amount of it. Now he knew another important detail about the cook. He was reckless with money. Being rich left aside throwing money down the drain for something trivial like entertaining him was nothing he was comfortable with.
 

“Hey moron,” Sanji greeted him entering the kitchen and interrupting his train of thought. “Why the hell did I wake up in your bed?”

“Make an educated guess,” Zoro answered and poured himself another cup of coffee he had made earlier.

“Oh, no. Not again,” Sanji groaned and left for the bathroom while Zoro grinned evilly into his cup. He could have easily carried the idiot to his own bedroom last night but he hadn’t felt the need to. It was way more fun like this. He pondered if he should tell Sanji the truth or banter him a little. He sure as hell deserved a little payback.
 

Reappearing in the kitchen after taking a shower Sanji sat down opposite to Zoro and looked him straight into the eyes. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing. You were already sleeping in my bed when I was done brushing teeth. I hope you don’t mind me sleeping in your bed in turn,” Zoro answered truthfully. Somehow he didn’t want to be nasty this time.

“No, that’s okay. Right now I’m just glad I didn’t do anything stupid.”

Sanji really seemed to be a little thrown off track. That was odd and boring. Like this it wasn’t really fun to tease the cook about how stupid he had actually acted before he had fallen asleep. Still he wasn’t mad at him, for whatever that was worth.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Zoro asked instead without really thinking about it and Sanji nodded saying: “I’m sorry. Normally I don’t get so… I don’t know.”

“Clingy?” Zoro suggested and handed his mug to Sanji before he got up to percolate fresh coffee. Sanji just stared at him and the mug in turns.
 

“I didn’t spit on it, fuzzy-brow,” Zoro barked noticing Sanji’s look and went over to the fridge to fetch him some milk.

“What? I didn’t say that. I’m just confused because you are so nice today,” Sanji replied, poured some milk into the coffee, which was now his, and took a sip.

“I’m just providing you a cup of coffee and milk. That’s nothing to faint over. See it as calm before the storm which is about to break lose in a couple of hours,” Zoro replied and sat back down. Ruffy and the guys’ plane was supposed to arrive sometime this evening so until then they still had some time to spend.

“I guess I should prepare breakfast then,” Sanji mused but didn’t move except for sipping his coffee. “Is there anything special you want?”

“By now you should know that I’m fine with everything you brew, kitchen minx.”

“Then get out of here—the kitchen, not the apartment—and let me do my job, sword brandisher.”

“Wisenheimer,” Zoro grumbled and went over to his room to get finally dressed, since running around in his pyjama pants all day wasn’t really an option to him. Slipping on a clean pair of tracksuit trousers he thought about how to spend his remaining spare time as well as possible coming to the only possible conclusion: training.
 

When he entered the kitchen again he was amazed at how quick Sanji had prepared breakfast. Maybe that was due to the fact that it was not an English breakfast this time. It consisted of various different types of bread, cheese, cold cuts Zoro had never seen in his life before, vegetables, fruit and yoghurt.

“Where did all that stuff come from?” he asked taken aback. He could have sworn it hadn’t been in the fridge earlier this morning.

“From Germany. I thought you might enjoy broadening your culinary horizon a little,” Sanji answered grinning.

“Why would I want to eat something German?” Zoro asked without really caring and sat down surveying the table closer. He would eat the sole of a shoe if it was prepared well enough so why the fancy cuisine?

“As a chef I am amazed by the wide range of bread and cold cuts you can get there, as you can see. Try it and you will understand what I mean.”

Zoro did and it tasted like bread and cold cuts. Amazing! What a completely unexpected development. Maybe the sole of the shoe wouldn’t have been that bad after all.

“I don’t get it,” he said after a while and made Sanji frown by it.

“You sure suffer from taste blindness, moron. Maybe all of the absinthe you had damaged your taste buds.”

“Taste buds? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Whatever. How about we spend the last remaining hours sightseeing?” Sanji changed the topic and beamed at him like a little kid.

“Why do I get the impression that you already have something particular in mind?”

After the stunt the cook had pulled yesterday Zoro knew it would be way smarter to just say no and get it over with but, since he was in Paris anyway, he could as well do some cultural stuff and go sightseeing. Fuck it, why not?
 

“You are pretty sharp. I’ve wanted to go there for years.”

“You live here. Why didn’t you just do it?”

“Alone? That’s boring, shamrock barnet.”

“Are you ever going to run out of ideas for giving me names?”

“Why? Did you already reach the bottom of your fantasy, Zoro?”

A shiver ran down Zoro’s spine again when he heard Sanji purring his name like he had last night. Maybe being called stupid names was preferable anyway.

“Whatever. You are driving me crazy anyway so do as you please.”

“That means we’ll go sightseeing,” Sanji concluded and Zoro wanted to bite into something to keep himself from screaming but could only gnash his teeth. The shitty bastard didn’t want to understand him!

“What sights?” he asked knowing that he would hate whatever the cook said.

“The Eiffel Tower. I mean it’s so…”

“Say romantic and I’ll kill you for real this time.”

“Huge, idiot. Sometimes the size does matter, you know?”

“Fine. Whatever it takes to have my peace I’ll do it.”
 

Admittedly, the Eiffel Tower was huge and really impressive. Now that he was here he was glad the cook had talked him into it. The view was amazing and the architecture was beautiful.

“Let’s go ice skating!” Sanji required and Zoro rolled his eyes. Not even Ruffy would have been so thrilled over something trivial as ice skating. Okay, most likely he would but he wouldn’t urge Zoro into it. Nah, maybe he would do that as well. Fine.

“I can’t ice-skate.”

“I’ll teach you,” Sanji offered unimpressed and still full of enthusiasm.

“Why are you so into this?” Zoro asked annoyed but followed him to the ice skate hire. Unfortunately they had ice skates of his size in stock so he had to give it a try at least.

“I’m going to make a fool of me,” he mumbled while Sanji just smiled at him.

“Don’t be so pessimistic. I’m here and when you crash I’ll be there and pick you up. After laughing at you.”

“Lovely. Now tell me what to do to survive this.”
 

Unexpectedly, Sanij was a really good teacher and Zoro didn’t make too much of a fool of himself. He skated like a granny and Sanji laughed at him at every given chance but it was fun. At some point Sanji seemingly decided that he needed to speed up a little, grabbed his hips from behind and pushed him.

“What are you doing?” he asked quite shocked and turned to face him.

“Look where you are skating, moron!” Sanji replied glaring at him. That was the moment someone else shrieked “Watch out!” and bumped into Sanji’s side, causing him to bump into Zoro and making them hit the edge.

Zoro was caught off-guard and when he toppled over the edge he accidentally carried Sanji with him. The floor was quite hard as he could confirm now.

Looking up he found Sanji’s face right above his and the rest of him lying on his chest and between his legs. He must have turned around in his fall. Great.

“You okay?” he asked and a crooked smile appeared on the blonde man’s lips.

“Yeah, I had a pillow breaking my fall. How about you?” Sanji replied rising to his feet again and offering Zoro a hand.

“I only wanted to check if the floor was solid. It is as you can see.”

“Heavens, I’m so sorry!” a young woman said skating over to them. “Are you all right?”

“Of course, we are, beautiful lady,” Sanji started purring. “Being run over by you was like being caressed by an angel! I…” Zoro interrupted his speech by giving him a blow to the head.

“Shut the fuck up, retard! I swear I already hate the stuff and nonsense you prattle so much I’m highly considering ripping out your bloody tongue, you feel me?” Zoro growled and left for the ice skate hire to return the skates and head home. This was so exasperating he was already fed up again. Hearing the dimwit apologizing in his bootlicker-manner was not making it any better.

“I’m sorry my flower but I’ve got to leave now.”

Zoro snorted when the idiot ran after him.

“Wait for me, shithead!”
 

Arriving back home they hadn’t been exactly in high spirits. Zoro had remained resolutely silent on their way home and Sanji had given up on trying to make him talk after a while. Considering his extraordinarily pissed off mood, Zoro had decided on interrogating himself for a reason by meditating.

After a while, when his friends still hadn’t arrived and he hadn’t found any reasonable answers, Zoro went back inside to get himself a bottle of water but the moment he was about to step inside the kitchen the doorbell rang so he went over to the door instead and opened it to let his friends in.
 

Barely ten seconds later he got jumped by his monkey brother and swept off his feet for the second time today.

“Zoro! We are here! How are you?” Ruffy shouted sitting on his chest and almost causing him to go deaf. “Wow, what happened to your face?” the boy added curiously surveying his injury. Zoro couldn’t do much more than rub his head which had rather inelegantly hit the floor. This day was so fucking unpleasant he hated it.

“My arse, can’t you be a little less enthusiastic?” he mumbled when Ruffy’s attention was attracted by someone else.

“Hi, Ruffy,” Sanji said and exited the kitchen.

“Sanji! Food!” Ruffy screamed in utter joy and left Zoro’s chest. “You have it ready, haven’t you? I’ve been waiting for so long! I’m nearly starving!”

“I don’t think you are so calm down,” Sanji replied and blocked the kitchen door with his body. “You won’t get anything until the others are here as well.”
 

“We are,” Nami said and entered the apartment followed by Lysop and Chopper who wore the same happy smile on their faces as she did.

“How are you guys?” she asked and the instant Sanji saw her he lost it again and Zoro felt the urge to kill him rise inside his guts.

“Nami, my most beautiful and lovely lambkin, you are so… ouch!” Before Sanji could even finish his sentence Zoro had shoved him against the nearest wall clenching his hand around his throat, nearly crushing it in doing so, and glared at him.

“I told you that I bloody hate that part of you the most! So shut the hell up!”

The others gasped for air in shock.

“Zoro, let go of him!” Chopper demanded nearly hysterical. “You are strangling him!”

“Let go of me, moron! I just wanted to welcome my dear mellorine!”

“Do that without spouting nonsense all the time!” Zoro growled and even tightened his grip. It infuriated him that Sanji didn’t fight back.

“Zoro, let go of him!” Ruffy claimed and laid a hand on Zoro’s arm to calm him. “He didn’t mean any harm. He just likes Nami, that’s all.”

Obviously he was mistaking Zoro’s rage for a wish to protect Nami from Sanji making overtures. That was insane. He didn’t give a damn about the witch right now, except for the fact that she was one of the reasons for his bad mood.

“That’s not the point,” Sanji calmly tried to explain to Ruffy slightly choking but still not struggling against Zoro, but staring right into his face.

“Damn right, whorl-brow,” Zoro hissed.

“But you are choking him!” Chopper screeched with tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Sanji said trying to soothe Chopper. “He won’t kill me.”

“Are you sure?” Zoro asked maliciously. Chopper squeaked and Lysop was so scared he already had foam in front of his mouth.

“If you want to, try it seriously.”

Something in Sanji’s glare troubled Zoro but he couldn’t grasp it. This blonde pest was so stirring it was sickening.

“All I want right now is you to behave like a man, not like a lovesick bastard.”

“Alright, I’ll try. But forgive me if I fail, Zoro,” Sanji replied and the inflexion of his name made Zoro shiver once more. Even though Sanji’s attitude had something submissive to it, it was yet daring and truly unsettling the swordsman.

“Fine,” he said, let go of Sanji and took a step back.
 

“Very well. So, dear friends, welcome to Paris,” the cook said as if nothing had happened and adjusted his collar. He was good at pretending, Zoro knew that only too well, but unfortunately their friends didn’t play along.

“What the hell was that?” Nami wanted to know. “And what happened to your face?”

So she had noticed the cook’s cracked lip. Well, it had been a matter of time anyway.

“Nothing. We just trained together,” Sanji explained and smiled at her. That was the way Zoro liked him. Acting normal. Wait. Where had that that come from? He didn’t like him, did he?

“Seems like you had lots of fun,” Ruffy stated and hopped into the kitchen to go for the dinner Sanji had prepared.
 

Now that Zoro was calming down again he realised that Chopper was still snivelling and Lysop was totally crept out. Nah, Lysop could wait, he decided.

“Hey, Chopper,” he said cautiously and pulled the boy into a tender embrace. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought you would really hurt him,” he sobbed and shyly returned the embrace.

“I would never hurt one of my friends on purpose, not even the shit-cook.”

“But…”

“No buts. I know it, he knows it, and now you know it. Okay?”

“No!” Chopper insisted. “I don’t want you to thrash each other!”

“We don’t thrash each other!” Zoro defended himself and Sanji but to no avail.

“So what happened to your eyebrow and his lip?” Chopper pushed further, and Zoro had to admit, that this was a good point indeed, even though his eyebrow hat nothing to do with the curlicue.

“Well…” he had absolutely no idea of how to explain it to his friend without making him worry again. When he saw Sanji standing in the kitchen door frame and watching them, he had an idea. A completely retarded idea but it was his only one.
 

“Hey curly-brow, I could need some help here,” he said and waited for Sanji to come over. Chopper just looked at him in surprise. Zoro was surprised himself that the shit-cook really did what he wanted him to.

“What is it?” he asked and cracked a disarming smile walking over to them, obviously to soothe Chopper and he was successful on top of that.

“Tell him we don’t beat up each other,” Zoro demanded and the look Sanji gave him clearly said ‘Of course we do—and you know it’, even though his words said something else.

“Listen, Chopper. We trained together and that’s why we look a little messed up. We don’t beat up each other just for fun.” Zoro felt that the cook wanted to add ‘but because we need it’ but didn’t. So they had something in common after all. Even if it just was their fucked up need for a physical battle royal.
 

“Are you lying to me?” Chopper asked and Zoro frowned. The boy was simply too smart for them.

“No,” Sanji said bluntly. “We are beating around the bush and keeping things to ourselves, but we are not lying.” He ruffled through Chopper’s hair and left for the terrace, to have a smoke as Zoro concluded.

“That’s okay,” Chopper stated smiling and hugged Zoro once again.

“Really?” he asked in confusion. He didn’t get it.

“Yes, it is. He wouldn’t shield you if he didn’t like you.” Well, that was groundbreaking news to Zoro. He didn’t need to be shielded by the cause of all his trouble. That was just utterly ridiculous!

“You better hurry over to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before it’s all gone,” Zoro suggested and Chopper released him from his embrace.

“You are right,” the boy smiled and hurried away.

Somehow he had imagined the reunion with his family a little different.

But for now he decided to accompany the cook on the terrace. Heavens knew why.
 

“Hey,” he said stepping outside.

“Hey,” Sanji replied without turning around. “When do you have to be at the stadium tomorrow?”

“That’s a good question,” Zoro said without really having an answer. “Some time in the morning, I guess.”

“It would be wiser to ask someone who knows, don’t you agree?”

“Sure. But I don’t know anyone who knows.” Thinking about it, this could become a problem. He knew that he had known when to be there a week ago but now there was nothing. He had really managed to forget the most important detail of his reason for being here. That was award-worthy in itself.
 

“I’ll take care of it,” Sanji suddenly said blowing a wave of smoke out. “I can’t be responsible for you being late tomorrow, oh great swordfighter.”

“And how do you plan on doing it?”

“I’ll call Mihawk and ask him.”

Perfect. Embarrassing him in front of the only swordfighter he respected was a great beginning of the tournament. Not that Mihawk didn’t think of him as an idiot anyway, but Sanji sure as hell didn’t have to add fuel to the fire.

“Why don’t you bury me alive instead? Or rip out my fingernails? I bet that would be way more pleasant than having him know that I fucked up the schedule of the tournament.”

“Just let me handle it and everything will be fine, you’ll see,” Sanji said finally turning around and smiling at him. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Whatever. I guess there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.”

“Precisely.”
 

---- End of chapter 22 ----

23rd Dec - Tournament

French Affairs – Chapter 14
 

23rd December - Tournament
 

Having Ruffy and the guys around right the night before the tournament had been one of the worst ideas Zoro had ever had to cope with, even though it hadn’t been his. Heavens, why hadn’t Sanji insisted on sending them to a hotel?
 

Naturally, they had celebrated a party. Naturally, all of them had been knocked out in the morning from drinking too much. Naturally, Zoro hadn’t, since he could handle more alcohol than all of them together. Thinking about it, it was nothing to be proud of at all, because ultimately, he had to listen to their whining now. No one, except for Ruffy, had felt the need for a real breakfast, although for different reasons.

Three of them visibly suffered from a hangover, Zoro simply didn’t feel like it, and Sanji most likely enjoyed his hangover in silence and all by himself. Idiot. Why did he drink when he couldn’t cope with it anyway? Well, it wasn’t Zoro’s problem he decided.
 

“I swear an entire horde of elephants ran through the living room last night and trampled on my head,” Lysop lamented and Zoro felt the urge to smack him. He couldn’t handle this shit first thing in the morning. After all he had to win a tournament in about an hour.

“But I wouldn’t be the great captain Lysop if I hadn’t fought them off to defend all of you from their huge feet. I took my mighty…”

“Can’t you shut the fuck up, long nose?” Zoro grunted and glared daggers at him over the rim of his mug. “Those elephants should have jumped on you with a little more gusto because I wouldn’t have to hear that nonsense then.”

“Zoro, not so loud,” Nami complained and shot him a glance of which he supposed should be threatening. Yet, it just had the force of throwing pink cotton balls to it. Sanji’s kick he received to his head held a lot more power.

“Don’t cause my dear mellorine a headache, muscle-head,” he snapped before he placed a glass of water and pain killers in front of her.

“Lovely Nami, my dear, your painkillers. I would gladly take your pain if I could,” Sanji stated without his usual fawning but wearing a bright smile. So the idiot really tried not to get Zoro fed up again. A very wise decision.
 

Thinking about it, the fag sucker hadn’t even tried to molest him last night although he had been drunk. Well, whatever. He didn’t even know where that thought had come from. Maybe from the same place his royally pissed mood came from he couldn’t explain.

“Sanji! I want more breakfast!” Ruffy cheered and received the same endearing treatment from the cook as Zoro had before. Obviously Sanji wasn’t in high spirits either this morning.

“When I told Zoro not to cause my dear Nami a headache I didn’t allow you to do so!” he hissed trying hard not to scream at his friend, as Zoro could tell from looking at the pulsing vein on his forehead.

“My head hurts, too,” Lysop whined again but only Chopper reacted.

“What sort of pain is it? Is it a common headache after drinking or should I check you thoroughly to make sure you don’t have a cerebral tumour?” he asked getting slightly hysterical.

“Leave the wimp be. I’m sure his brain just swashed against his skull since there is so much room inside for it to drift around,” Zoro remarked maliciously and smirked at Lysop.

“What?” the curly haired man shrieked. “That’s not true!”

“Be quiet you moron!” Sanji yelled at him and Zoro rolled his eyes.

“But he is right,” Chopper intervened quietly, “You don’t have nerves in your brain so all you would feel if one took of your skull and sliced your brain was the pain of having your skin cut.”

“What a lovely topic for breakfast,” Zoro sighed and couldn’t believe how the cute little boy in front of him could tell such horrid stories without freaking out when he did so just from looking at a mere cut in one’s finger.

“Breakfast?” Ruffy listened up. “I’m still hungry, Sanji. Gimme more! Do you think we could eat Lysop’s brain as well?” he asked happily grinning.
 

“Of course, we could but that would be called cannibalism, retard,” Sanji stated and grinned at Lysop evilly, “It is forbidden to eat people but I bet I could make him taste really delicious.” It was nasty of Sanji to say something like this but it did the trick in shutting Lysop up. He fainted. Respect.

Still Nami didn’t agree with Zoro and hit Sanji on the head.

“Stop frightening him!” she demanded and winced when she remembered her hangover again and just an instant later the cook was all over her again. Shrew.
 

“It’s time to leave, don’t you think, nicotine apostle? Zoro asked and rose to his feet to show he was serious.

“Very well, seaweed grower,” Sanji replied before he turned to face Ruffy saying, “When I get back from driving the moron to his chopstick brandishing festival and I see that just one tiny piece from my fridge has disappeared I swear I won’t cook for you ever again. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Ruffy moped the joyful smile fading from his face.

“Lovely. Now let’s go, colewort.”

Zoro picked up his sports bag and his sword case and followed the cook outside.
 

A little while later he found himself in the men’s locker room getting ready for the first competition. The prospect of running into Mihawk again didn’t really make him jump for joy, but ponder his chance of defeating him in a real swordfight. Maybe he had a chance to win over him even though it would just be a tiny one.

The door behind him opened and he didn’t need to turn around to recognize the presence of his nemesis but did it nonetheless. Glancing over to his sword case he tried to make a quick decision.
 

“Don’t even think about it,” Mihawk said and stepped in front of him but still stayed outside his immediate reach. Zoro just glared at him. He could take a lot but this bastard’s arrogance was beyond his tolerance.

“Why not?” he finally growled crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I won’t fight you,” Mihawk bluntly replied keeping a straight face.

“Is that so?” Zoro asked eyeing Mihawk’s getup. He was already dressed for the tournament and had no reason to be here since he would be the first one to compete today. So why the hell did he bother him then?

“It is. Without playing around, I would kill you within mere ten seconds at most, without letting you even think about landing a single hit on me.”

“I don’t think so. Still I don’t see why you are telling me this.” This was getting annoying. He hadn’t come here for having a chit-chat with Mihawk.

“As I said, I won’t fight you. Nevermore.”

“What?” Zoro shouted in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am and I won’t,” Mihawk stated and left the men’s locker room without turning around again.
 

Zoro was too dumbfounded to follow him. What the hell? Had Mihawk become some sort of a bloody Samaritan or what? Or some freaking monk?

Bloody hell, you couldn’t retire from being the best swordfighter in the world just because you felt like it, God damn it! He would definitely not leave it at that! That was inacceptable! A fucking insolence!

It infuriated Zoro to have that bastard of a swordfighter offending his pride in denying him another fight. Most likely that was exactly what Mihawk had wanted to attain when he had said he wouldn’t fight Zoro again.

But Zoro wouldn’t fall for his dirty tricks. He would look right through it. Maybe. While he changed into his kendo-gi and bogu he still tried to make sense of Mihawk’s words but failed.
 

During the competitions Zoro still hadn’t paid full attention to his opponents. He hadn’t needed to since they had been good but no real match to him. All that counted was this last round. The final. Just him and Mihawk. No one else was important now. Not his friends cheering him on from the grand stand, not the referees, no one. It was a thing between the two of them. Taking a stand in front of each other he squatted down, demonstrated his respect for his opponent and took a fighting stance again. Tension built up between them as his gaze met Mihawk’s yellow eyes.

“You are bound to lose. Blood of my blood,” Mihawk said a little louder than a whisper and Zoro was hit between the eyes by his words.

A second later he was hit by Mihawk’s shinai without even contemplating to defend himself. Jeers erupted from the crowd and Zoro felt anger and hate well up inside his chest he had never felt before. This simply couldn’t be true! Not Mihawk! Not now! Nonetheless, seen like this it made sense what Mihawk had said before even though it still didn’t sit right with Zoro. But this was so damn unthinkable it had to be true. If it was not, then Mihawk had a talent for hitting sensitive spots, his most sensitive of all, with deadly precision. Zoro growled in wrath. He knew he would be disqualified if he didn’t keep his mouth shut, knew everything he had trained for would go down the drain if he voiced his anger and he knew it was what Mihawk wanted. He wanted to see him fail.
 

“You goddamn insolent scum,” he whispered through his teeth so Mihawk had the chance to hear it but didn’t necessarily have to. He felt like he would burst any moment. He felt betrayed. Bereft of his image of having a father and tortured with the image of having Mihawk as a father. Seeing the older man’s piercing but emotionless gaze resting on him, his fighting spirit revived and he attacked.

Mere ten seconds later he had lost all of it: the fight and his pride with it, his respect for Mihawk, his idle wish for a father, and it dawned upon him that he was about to loose even more.

The only thing present in his mind was rage. Suppressing it he bowed to Mihawk, observing the rules, and left afterwards for the men’s locker room.
 

His former opponents, his friends, his fans everyone wanted to congratulate him for making the second place in world rank but he didn’t realise it. He didn’t care.

All he saw was red. All he heard was his filthy blood pulsing through the veins in his ears. All he felt was hatred. Hatred against himself for falling for Mihawk’s cheap lie.
 

Stepping into the locker room the first thing he did was smashing his fist against the wall next to the door, leaving a deep bump in the wall panelling. His heart threatened to burst in disappointment, his lungs burned and he couldn’t think clearly. All he saw were the yellow eyes of Mihawk staring right into his very soul, laughing at him. The door opened again and once again Zoro felt Mihawk more than he actually saw him. A moment later he punched Mihawk’s face as vicious as his pride let him do.

Mihawk didn’t even bother to look at him but glared at the other men in the locker room. “Get out! Now!” he barked at them and they hurriedly obeyed him, obviously glad to escape whatever was going on here.

“How dare you?” Zoro whispered painstakingly restraining his anger.

“Dare what exactly?”

“Dare to come up with such an infuriating lie?”

“I would never lie about something… inconvenient as this,” Mihawk replied and Zoro felt like laughing, screaming, and crying all at once. His stomach convulsed and he got sick from hearing those words. Inconvenient. If that was all his father had to say to him he didn’t get why he said it at all. But if it wasn’t a lie it had to be real. Had to be true.
 

“Why? Why now? I’ve been waiting for 24 years to learn anything about my father just to have you telling me this?” he yelled. “No way in hell! This is not what I wanted!” His mind was racing in circles like a mantra repeating this can’t be true, this can’t be real over and over.

“I didn’t know about you until three years ago. When you were in hospital because of me I received a call and was informed about our blood relation,” Mihawk explained calmer than he ought to be. This was his goddamn problem as well they were talking about!

“I didn’t receive a get well card though,” Zoro snarled. “It’s been three fucking years and you didn’t feel the need to tell me! No one felt the need to tell me! Who the fuck do you think you are? And who told you about it anyway?”

“Garp did.”

That was it. Zoro sank down on the bench standing in front of him, his stomach had turned into a burning pit of fire and his heart was thumping like mad. It had been a lie. Back then Garp had lied to him when he had asked about his father. He had been lied to. For the last fifteen years. This couldn’t be true!

“We beg the champions to appear on stage for receiving their honours!” an announcement was made. “The champions may appear on stage immediately!”

Mihawk left without saying another word.

So this was it? All the talk there would be?
 

Zorro quickly took of his bogu and followed him. Cheers erupted when he and Mihawk stepped on stage to finally receive their honours . For the entire time his eyes never left Mihawk’s face. The older man didn’t look very happy himself. No, that wasn’t all there was; he didn’t look as satisfied as he normally would after beating his opponents. If anything, he looked annoyed. What the hell? Zoro couldn’t believe it. He needed to get out of here. Now! He couldn’t breathe properly.
 

As soon as he saw the first chance to escape he took it. He quickly changed his clothes in the locker room, packed his stuff and left. The thought that his friends could be waiting for him didn’t even cross his mind.

He exited the building and took a deep breath to get his heart into a steady beat again. This was insane. He was in France, godforsaken France, and couldn’t even go home. Couldn’t even go to a place where he would feel comfortable now, couldn’t even think of an alternative, so he just started walking straight ahead. Anywhere would be better than here right now. Maybe walking would help him clear his thoughts.
 

“What do you think you are doing?” a voice sounded from behind him and the stench of smoke hit his nostrils. He didn’t stop or turn around. There was no need to since he knew it was Sanji talking to him.

“Mind your own damn business. I’m really not in the mood to argue with you,” he stated coldly and quickened his pace. Sanji caught up on him and placed a hand on his shoulder to make him stop.

“What did I tell you about running off, idiot?” he asked and Zoro slapped his hand away.

“Fuck you, cook! Don’t touch me but leave me alone for your own sake!”

The cook retreated a little and started searching his pockets.

“Whatever. You’ll take this with you and call me when I shall come get you, arsehole,” he simply stated placing his cell phone into Zoro’s hand and leaving afterwards. That was odd. It was so highly odd it was irritating. Why didn’t the nagger insist on him playing along? Did he know what was going on? Had he known all along? Nah, that was unlikely. But then again…
 

Zoro kept on walking. Further and further away from what he knew and deeper into impending madness. All of his surroundings passed him by in a blur. He noticed neither people passing him by and turning their heads to get another look at him nor the buildings and places he passed. All he noticed was the quiet crunching of his footsteps on the newly fallen snow.

Only when he reached a desolate park he snapped out of his muddled drifting thoughts and sat down under a huge tree rather far away from the main path so no one would accidentally run into him and, in the worst case, involve him into a conversation. It didn’t bother him to simply sit on the snow covering the meadow, since talking was one of the least things he wanted to do right now and he liked the sensation of snow anyway. Its soothing and cool softness.

Leaning against the tree trunk he felt like he had run a marathon–but at least all his anger had eased a little, but not subsided yet. There was just too much going on for him to regain his composure yet.

Trying to sort his thoughts again he started from the very beginning. So Mihawk was his father. What a sick joke of life. Nothing, neither the way he treated him, spoke to him or even looked at him was in any way fatherly. He didn’t even want to have him as a son.

But what did he want himself? Focusing on his own feelings, he found nothing but turmoil, anger and despair. His life couldn’t have been based on a lie, could it? Nonetheless, Garp had betrayed him, what lead Zoro to one question: If he had known about it, who else had? Ruffy, his little brother? Ace, his big brother? Were they liars as well? The fist around his stomach clenched tighter and let him taste bitter bile in his throat. He didn’t want them to be liars; he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. But still it was there, this nagging feeling in his heart.

Now that he was alone and finally lacking the power to keep his façade up, he felt tears welling up inside his eyes. Tears he had held back for years. Tears of feeling alone and left behind.
 

---- End of chapter 14 ----

24th Dec - Chopper's Birthday pt. 1

French Affairs – Chapter 15
 

24th December - Chopper's birthday pt. 1
 

Zoro didn’t know how long he had sat there. It had gotten dark already and cold. He could see his breath steaming in little clouds before his face. By now even his anger had completely subsided and gotten replaced by emotional emptiness.

With every thought about his situation he had had, he had grown more paranoid. Reasons for keeping his father’s identity a secret had refused to come to his mind no matter how hard he had thought about it. Therefore other thoughts had stirred.
 

When Garp had known about Mihawk all along, who else had?

Ace? He had shown up just once over the last six years—when Zoro had been nearly killed by Mihawk. That was suspicious. He had known.

Ruffy? Considering that Garp had known and Ace had known left only one possible answer. He had known.

Nami? She had lent money to Zoro even though he would most likely never pay her back. That was naïve. Nami wasn’t naïve. She didn’t do anything without backup. She had known.

Lysop? He was an idiot. A braggart. Though he avoided sensitive topics like “fathers” when Zoro was around. Most likely because he was afraid of Zoro smashing his head for telling him “bad” news like who his father was. He had known.

Chopper? The youngster was such a sensitive and sensible person—he would never be able to lie to Zoro for so long, wouldn’t he? But breaking Zoro’s heart was another thing he would never consider. So if he guessed that telling Zoro about Mihawk would hurt him, he would most likely have remained silent. He had known.

Last but not least, Sanji. There was no way he couldn’t have known about it. Jeff was a friend of Mihawk’s and so Jeff had to know about it. And if the old man knew, Sanji did as well.

So all of his friends had lied to him.

He hadn’t been able to believe it, but it had felt so real in the beginning. It had been real to him. But… Did it even matter? No, it didn’t. Now, after brooding over his situation for a couple of hours he knew that it made no difference.

He was a liar himself in so many things.

No, what bothered him now, was the next step he would have to take and he hated it. Even thinking about it was bothering him so much he had begun to just stare into the darkness around him, thinking about nothing.

It was paining him. It hurt like hell and he wasn’t used to those feelings. His stomach tightened and it felt like his guts were on fire. Physical pain was one thing but this… this was beyond him. All he knew was that he had to take it out on somebody if he wouldn’t go insane. This feeling he couldn’t describe was eating away at him.
 

Even though he knew that it was about time for him to go home to Sanji and the guys, he didn’t feel like it. Not knowing how to feel or behave around them was an entirely new experience for him and he didn’t have the faintest idea of how to deal with it.
 

“Monsieur, you can’t spend the night here. You might freeze to death,” an unknown voice interrupted his thoughts. Zoro looked up and met the concerned gaze of a middle-aged police constable wearing a large moustache and having frightfully huge scars defacing him. His colleague, a rather young looking man with purple hair, stood a little further away but looked equally concerned, even thought he relaxed a little when Zoro moved. So he had assumed that he already had frozen to death. Lovely.

“Just let me stay a little while longer, please, gentlemen,” he replied as politely as he could.

The looks the two men exchanged spoke volumes to Zoro, even though he couldn’t quite decide of which story. The one who had spoken to him before began to speak again: “Sir, you’ve already sat here for more than eight hours. We just came over to see if you were frozen to death already.”

Honest guys, really.

“I’m sorry I’m still alive,” Zoro said without really thinking about it.

“Sir, I must insist on you going home now,” the constable demanded and Zoro felt wretched again. There was no home for him to return to anymore. All there was were the place where Sanji lived here in Paris and the place where his friends lived in London. Naturally, the constable couldn’t know that and so Zoro abruptly rose to his feet, unintentionally startling the policemen with his sudden motion.

Standing tall again made him realise something: The Zoro sitting on the park bench had been a lost and confused puddle of emotions; the Zoro standing in front of those policemen now was most likely still the same inside but he felt his confidence return. He wouldn’t surrender to what had happened, wouldn’t run away anymore. He was a fighter, the kendo vice world champion and a marine! He was a man, god damn it! A man who knew what he had to do: Face his troubles and solve them. The only problem was that he had absolutely no clue where the hell he was.
 

“Ahm, gentlemen,” he stated, a quizzical look appearing on his face. “Would you be so kind as to tell me where exactly we are? I sort of… got lost, I guess.”

Much to Zoro’s surprise this admission broke the tension and the constables started laughing.

“Okay, son, listen. Our shift is over anyway so we can take you wherever you want to go before we head back to the head quarters. My name is Genzo, pleased to meet you. His name is Corby,” the older man said introducing him and his colleague and offering Zoro a hand.

“Hi, my name’s Zoro Roronoa. Pleased to meet you, but I can’t accept your offer.” He shook his and Corby’s hands before Corby asked: “Why’s that?”

“Well, I don’t know the address.”

Both policemen were staring at him like he had grown a second head.

“So that was what you’ve been meditating about all the time. How to get home? That’s hilarious!” Corby stated and burst out laughing again but almost choked on it as soon as he saw Zoro’s frowning face.

“I was not and it is none of your business.”

“So, do you know any significant establishments near wherever you need to go, son?” Genzo asked friendly smiling at Zoro.

“A cemetery and a restaurant called something with glasses and the devil. It must be anywhere near the basilica of Sacre Coeur.”

“Well, that’s a rather precise description and you are lucky I know it. So, son, now let’s get your stuff and take you home.” This Genzo guy really seemed to be a nice person but Zoro couldn’t stand two things about him: firstly, his babbling about home all the time and secondly, his calling him “son”.

“Sir, I would appreciate it, if you could drop the ‘home’ and ‘son’ things. I’m staying at a friend’s place, not at home, and, as much as it pains me, I am definitely not your son.”

Luckily Genzo took it as a compliment, not as a complaint. He seemed very satisfied to hear Zoro’s regret of him not being his father, even though Zoro had talked about Mihawk as his “pain” and not about Genzo being a nice person. Be that as it may, he was glad that he didn’t have to call Sanji to come pick him up. He wouldn’t have called him anyway.
 

The policemen were quite nice but way too talkative while they saw him home to Sanji’s.

“Is this your first time in Paris?” Genzo asked genuinely interested meeting Zoro’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, it is. How did you figure?”

“I didn’t. It was just a question. So, how do you like it here?”

That was most likely the worst question one could ask him. He hated it. Without beating around the bush: He despised, loathed and detested it. So, what should he tell Genzo? He wouldn’t lie. He had had enough lies for an entire lifetime already.

“So?” Genzo asked again, when he didn’t receive an answer.

“Right now I’m not really able to appreciate being here,” he said and the glance Genzo shot him through the rearview mirror was full of concern again. Well done, Zoro, you idiot.

“I’m sorry for asking,” the older man apologized and changed the topic. “What do you do for a living? Your appearance is quite impressive, you know?”

“I serve in the Royal Navy.”

“Oh, that is impressive,” Corby butt into the conversation. “One day I want to become a marine, too.”

“Not that again, Corby. You are a coward. Why would you join the marines of your own free will? I don’t even get why you are a policeman.”

“That’s mean of you. Monsieur Roronoa, tell him I can do it, please.”

“Why would I? I’m glad to leave this shit behind in a couple of days and live a normal life at home again. If you want to be sent away for six years without seeing your family once, I’m sure you can do it. But you must be sure you really want it.”
 

That shut Corby up and Zoro felt sorry for disillusioning him. Of course life in the navy wasn’t that bad but he was getting angry again thinking about what had happened during his time serving and he felt the need to take it out on Corby, since the younger policeman had stirred it up again. Fortunately, they passed the entrance of Sanji’s house and Zoro even recognised it.

“You can drop me off here,” he quickly stated, glad to get out of the car. “He lives right here.”

“Sure, if you say so,” Genzo replied and pulled over to stop and let Zoro get off the car. He smiled at him in encouragingly and nodded at him when the car had come to a stop.

“Thank you very much for your kindness, Sirs. Good bye,” he thanked them and got off the car.

“Good bye, Monsieur Roronoa,” they bid their goodbye and Zoro shut the door closed. The car drove away and he was alone again, standing on the street in the middle of the night, surrounded by snow and silence.
 

He paced the way back to Sanji’s apartment and thought about what to do next, how to behave now. Finally standing in front of the entrance door now wasn’t as easy on him as he had imagined it to be. All his former self-confidence in handling this situation slowly but surely poured out of him and the longer he hesitated to ring the doorbell the more it was unsettling him. He didn’t even know what time it was and if the cook would be pissed off at him for coming here so late. He might as well try and find out. Taking a deep breath he rang the doorbell and just a moment later the door clicked open. That moment his stomach tightened again. Heavens, this was making him insane.

Arriving at Sanji’s apartment the cook was awaiting him leaning against the door frame. He looked really tired but not fed up; more like he was expecting bad news.

“Thank goodness, it’s you,” Zoro was welcomed. “I saw a police car from the kitchen window and assumed they would either come to tell me they arrested you for some stupid reason or to inform me about your death.”

“Even if something had happened to me—you would be one of the last persons they would inform about anything. You are no family,” Zoro snarled and passed him by. It was irritating him that he was mad at Sanji for showing concern. Somehow he wanted to hurt him and to show him what it was like to be not considered family. “You are right, I am not,” Sanji admitted and the “but” he wanted to add was clearly tangible lingering in the air yet he didn’t say it. He just looked hurt, as Zoro could tell from taking a quick glance over his shoulder, and left a stale taste in Zoro’s mouth. That damn idiot had no right to make him feel bad about his words now.
 

Without saying anything Zoro went to the bathroom and did his evening toilet while his mind raced around Sanji’s behaviour, analyzing it. Why had he been relieved to see him again? Jeff would probably give him hell and consequences if Zoro died on him. After all he was the son of his dear friend Mihawk. But that didn’t explain why Sanji had looked as hurt as Zoro had wanted him to look. That was untypical for the blonde pest and confusing the hell out of Zoro. Usually Sanji should have come back with a sharp reply like being glad about not being his family or something like that. Being mean was not satisfying at all like that. It made him the bad guy he didn’t want to be.
 

When he stepped into the living room to get to his room, Sanji had already prepared a pillow and blanket on the sofa and waved him over.

“You are going to sleep here until the others get up. Since you haven’t been around I decided that Lysop was to sleep in your room together with Chopper so I wouldn’t keep him awake waiting for you. If you don’t feel like sleeping you can wait for about another hour or so and I bet you will have access to your room again. After all it is bloody 6 a. m., moron.”

That dumbfounded Zoro. It really was that late already? So the policemen had highly underestimated the time he had spent in that park. Damn, that explained their worried expressions at least. Shaking his head slightly he paced over to the couch and slumped on it. This was bothersome. He wasn’t really keen on spending more time with the cook than necessary right now. Well, thinking about it, sharing his bed with Chopper wouldn’t really lift his spirits either. The mere thought felt weird somehow but he could also not spend every night drinking. Maybe sleeping on the couch wasn’t that bad of a deal. He sighed.
 

“What’s wrong with you?” Sanji asked and Zoro didn’t even feel strong enough to raise a single finger for smashing this nuisance’s head.

“None of your business, dartboard brow.”

“You left all of us worrying over you and now you dare to tell me it is none of my bloody business? Fuck you, shithead! Like hell it is not!” Sanji hissed through his teeth to not wake his friends. Zoro clearly preferred the angry Sanji to the sensitive one. It made it easier to not like him.

“You didn’t call me so you couldn’t have been that worried. Now leave me alone. I’m tired,” he replied turning his back at Sanji ending the conversation.

“At least you are sober this time,” he heard Sanji grumble before he blocked his voice out. This day was so going to be a pain in the arse. It had started bad, gotten worse and was bound to culminate in the worst way possible--whatever “worst” would be.
 

He couldn’t really sleep. All he did was nodding off every once in a while just to be awoken by footsteps, half-whispered conversations and the shutting noises of doors. It was uncommon and unwelcome to him to experience his first lasting period of lacking sleep in years. France sure as hell was cursed.

Being about to nod off again he heard his name and listened up.

“I didn’t think this would affect him so much.” Lysop. It would be wiser for the dimwit not to think but shut his bloody mouth.

“Yeah, it has always been a precarious topic but I never thought he would just disappear on us.” Nami. The damn witch sure as hell didn’t know him well enough to judge his behaviour.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that he ran off for the third time since he has come here.” Zoro’s skin started tingling. Sanji. Arsehole. As if he really had the right to gossip about him. After all they just knew each other for a couple of days. But, well, he definitely had gotten to know him better than Nami did. Sad but true. Morons! All of them!

“I’m worried over him. You said he drank frightfully much over the last days and didn’t sleep properly last night.” Chopper was so… chopper-like. There was nothing one could do about it.

“Yes, but you and I also drank way too much over the last days. Moreover, I didn’t sleep as well. I don’t think it’s going to harm the moss-head as long as he calms down any time soon.”

“But he was just so epic yesterday!” Ruffy cheered. Hopefully all of them had had a good laugh at his epic face when he had learned the truth about Mihawk. Fuck! He didn’t need that shit first thing in the morning.

“He and Mihawk really are birds of a feather when it comes down to business.”

The sensation of his tingling skin was making him sick. He had to do something or he would definitely go crazy.
 

Without making a sound he got up and went over to his room to fetch new clothes before he stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. While the cold water ran down his body to calm him down he remembered one little detail he had almost missed. Today was Choppers birthday. His eyebrow twitched.

He didn’t have a gift for the youngster. Shit. This day would become the hell he had always known he would get into after death. Sure as hell he had frozen last night.

He put on black trousers, which shimmered a little greenish, and a yellow shirt with a full length zip and went over to the kitchen. His bare feet made no sound on the wooden floor. Taking a look at the clock hanging opposite the door on the wall he realised that it was almost noon already. Well, maybe he had slept more than he had guessed.
 

“Zorro! How are you? Did you get hurt in any of the matches yesterday? Should I examine you?” Chopper sputtered and Zoro couldn’t help but to smile until he glanced at Sanji. His expression turned blank and so did his voice, without him noticing. All he knew was that he felt sick. Maybe he had a fever. Perfect.

“No,” he simply stated and leaned against the worktop. Raising an arm and waving Chopper over he added, “Come here,” and sounded as pissed off as he was by now. Being sick was sure as hell not on his agenda. Who on earth was stupid enough to get a fever from sitting around in a park? His friends’ expressions shifted to somewhere between surprised and worried. It was unnerving him already.

“What is it?” the boy asked alarmed but stepped closer nonetheless.

“Happy Birthday,” Zoro said as nicely as he could and forced a smile on his lips, pulling Chopper in a tender hug. Yes, he was fed up to the back teeth but he wouldn’t take it out on the boy, because he knew Chopper would cry and Zoro was weak against his tears. It would cause him a murderous headache to be the reason for the boy’s tears.

Over Choppers shoulder he looked at the others and his mildly warm expression cooled down immediately. The only possible reason why he couldn’t hold his charade up was that he was lacking sleep. He couldn’t find any other reason why he would become feverish so that even his hands started trembling.

Now wonderment showed on their faces when they noticed the quick changes in Zoro’s expressions.

“Zoro, is something wrong?” Nami asked and Zoro smiled at her all nicely and warmly again to keep his muscles relaxed and to avoid jumping her right into the face. As if he would want her to worry over him. He wasn’t a baby.

“How could it?” he asked and he knew that everyone in his right mind could hear his tension loud and clear, even though his voice was as smooth as silk. Chopper didn’t. He just looked up at him and smiled back.

“I’m glad you are alright,” he said. Poor fool.
 

“Chopper, be so kind as to let go of the mug and let him eat his share. I can’t have him starving in my apartment,” Sanji said and stepped next to Zoro to prepare a plate for him. Today was Chopper’s birthday so, naturally, all the food was vegetarian as Zoro noticed. Baked beans, chocolate cream, cheese, salad, marmalade, this fancy bread Zoro had eaten before, and fruit. In Zoro’s opinion, all of this didn’t really fit together and, what was even worse, it didn’t not fit his sense of breakfast, but also found its way on his plate nonetheless. This day was no fun at all. His stomach started twitching again.

“I’m not supposed to eat this, am I?” he asked Sanji and raised an eyebrow in mockery. “You are supposed to be a cook and don’t even know that all of this shit doesn’t fit together. That’s a lousy performance of yours.”

Chopper instantly let go of Zoro and hurried over to his friends to be out of the firing line and not a second early.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll throw all of it in a mixer and make you drink it, poison ivy!” Sanji spat back and pointed the knife he held at Zoro’s chest. “It is not my fault that you always have a bad day so stop messing with me! I’ve already had enough of you for a lifetime and I’m glad to see you leave tomorrow!”

“That makes two of us!” So they had something else than their need for physical fights in common after all. Too bad knowing this was to no avail. Zoro felt sick and gulped hard. Seconds passed and neither of them moved or said anything. Sanji just looked at him as if he was waiting for something particular to happen.

“You are still here?” he sneered a moment later. “That’s quite uncommon since you tend to run away all the time, vice world champion. I guess that makes you a real champion there.”

Zoro just stared at him, pondering if he had any plans for his life, except for being imprisoned for homicide. He decided on postponing the revival of his being a “demon cutter” and replying instead, hissing in a low voice: “I have a very good reason for leaving each time I gravely consider homicide. You better pray that I never lose my temper while you are around, Sanji.” Yet, the malice he put into his words wasn’t really there. He felt empty like all the life had flown out of him with every word he had said.
 

“Zoro, Sanji, it’s enough!” Nami butted in and hit both of them on the head. “Just calm down and stop your ridiculous macho attitudes!” she demanded and for the first time of his life Zoro was grateful for her being a witch.

“So, what are the plans for today?” he changed the topic and completely ignored Sanji while putting on his mask of mild interest and decent behaviour again. Maybe pretending everything was alright until he was back home in England and could fix this situation. As soon as he would leave godforsaken France behind he would be able to start his life all over again and simply forget about everything that had happened here. His little cheap and self-deceitful plan nearly made him laugh and sob at the same time but he suppressed it, nearly choking on it—quietly, without anyone noticing.

He knew he would never be able to forget what had happened. His life would never be the same again.
 

--- End of chapter 15 ---

24th Dec - Chopper's Birthday pt. 2

French Affairs – Chapter 16
 

24th December - Chopper's Birthday pt. 2
 

Sanji felt torn between being sorry and pissed off. He had absolutely no idea what could have fed up the muscle-head so much. Sure, he had lost to Mihawk in the tournament—but that had been nothing unexpected. Everyone lost to Mihawk. That was a law of nature. Besides, Ruffy had mentioned that Zoro hadn’t been nearly as pissed off at Mihawk back then when he had almost been killed by him. At least that was what Ace had told Ruffy. So what was the difference now?

Seeing the swordsman so bad-tempered infuriated Sanji. Still it had been a disgracefully low blow on the hulk’s pride to insult him as a coward and was getting to Sanji more than it actually should.

Truth be told, right now he would have given one of his legs for being Chopper. Hold it. What the fuck? Why the hell was he thinking something as plain stupid as that? Sure, Chopper was the only one among them who had been treated nicely by the sword wielder this morning, but that was no reason for wishing to be him, was it? Well, no.
 

Watching Zoro acting the nice guy again quite disturbed Sanji. He could tell from the tension in the other man’s body that he was definitely not as calm as he wanted to pretend. It was against every little habit he had gotten to know from the sword brandisher. Zoro was supposed to be a choleric brute and to love all of his friends just as much as he loved Chopper. Maybe even more. So, why was he mad at them and trying to cover it? They hadn’t done anything wrong. But the overly exaggerated ease Zoro emitted said otherwise. It was like the calm before the storm Zoro had predicted earlier.
 

“Oi, shithead,” Sanji spoke up interrupting Chopper’s and Ruffy’s joyful descriptions of how they imagined Chopper’s birthday celebration, especially the food. Even Nami didn’t seem bothered too much by the noise. So her headache had eased. Zoro, on the other hand, didn’t take part in the conversation anymore. He just had initiated it and now fallen into an odd silence.

“Is there anything special you would like to have for breakfast?”, Sanji asked and catching Zoro by surprise got him to falling into habit again as he replied: “You know I’m fine with everything you make, soup ladle,” he mumbled boredly without even realising his lapse in acting.

“Oh, really?” Sanji mumbled and turned away to the worktop to hide the smile forcing its way on his lips. He didn’t even know why this little sentence eased him so much. Maybe Zoro wasn’t that mad at him for insulting him earlier. That would be nice… Whatever.

He quickly shook his head to force these senseless thoughts out of his mind and started preparing a “better fitting” breakfast for His Sulkyness. Most likely he just hadn’t eaten enough yesterday and was so touchy due to that. For that reason Sanji knew the best way to cheer the moody moron up again: By feeding him something incredibly tasty. So, what should he make? English breakfast was boring, common continental breakfast was even more boring and Zoro would most likely hate it, so what else should he make?

Filled omelette sounded nice. He had figured that Zoro wasn’t very fond of sweets in the morning so he decided on filling it with baked beans and mushrooms to keep it close to English breakfast but not too ordinary. Hopefully the idiot would appreciate it.
 

A couple of minutes later he placed the plate and a fork in front of his problem child and looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, Sanji!” Ruffy cheered and nearly jumped over the table to get closer to Zoro’s plate. “I want one too! I am so hungry I’m starving.”

“No. You already had breakfast and it’s not even close to lunch time. You can eat something when the lot of you go sightseeing later. There’s nothing better than French cuisine in typically French cafés.”

“But it looks so tasty,” Ruffy whined and started drooling. He crept a little closer to Zoro and tried to snatch a piece of omelette from his plate. Zoro simply shot him a threatening glance and growled a low “Don’t” to keep Ruffy from stealing his meal and it actually worked.

The look on everyone’s faces told Sanji that he wasn’t the only one having shivers running down his spine from this plain statement. It held more of a threat to it than really voicing one could have.

“Oh no, come on!” Ruffy lamented but retreated. “This is not fair!”

“I don’t care,” Zoro stated and started eating. Sanji watched him carefully. The way Zoro’s eyes were now focusing his plate, gave him the chance to do so without annoying him or getting caught. Still Zoro’s entire body was tense as if he was waiting for an attack to counter.
 

“I’ve got to leave soon to prepare dinner and everything. Are there any special wishes for tonight?” Sanji announced letting his gaze wander from face to face.

“I want meat!” Ruffy shouted and conjured a smile on Sanji’s lips.

“Of course you do. Is there anything else I could prepare? Dearest Nami, do you wish for anything in particular?” Oh, how he would love to spoil her with something as fancy as her beauty. She was most likely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. Not even Robin with her mature appearance and noble attitude could surpass his beloved Nami. Interestingly enough, Sanji didn’t wish for her to be his girlfriend. Naturally he would marry her right this instant if she asked him to but it eased him to know that this case would never occur. He didn’t even want someone similar to her. Not in looks and not in personality. He loved her unreservedly as a friend, her body was incredibly sexy and she was sweet and charming but he didn’t really want her—and not just because she was Ruffy’s girlfriend. She lacked something he couldn’t put into words.

“No, Sanji, but will there be cocktails tonight?”

“I would never forget about something important as that, my dear,” he affirmed her question and smiled.

“That’s great. I’m looking forward to it.”

His gaze wandered on and passed Zorro by just to return to him. He was focused on a point between the door frame and nowhere.

“What about you Chopper? Lysop?” he said without turning to face them. It was incredible to see Zoro staring holes into the air with all glossy eyes. It was close to a miracle that still no one else had questioned Zoro about it or at least said anything to him at all. Something was really bloody wrong with the brick-head.

“I already am the happiest person there is!” Chopper answered cheerfully.

“Have I ever told you that once when I still was the feared captain Lysop I had the best ship’s cook in the world und my command? He…” Sanji turned his babbling out. It was time for him to leave anyway, even if he didn’t like it.

“Very well then,” he said and went to the hall. “I’ll take my leave now. Just don’t do anything stupid and be at the Baratié at 6 p.m.”

“Hey! You didn’t ask Zoro what he wants!” Chopper called after him.

“I don’t have to. He already said he is fine with anything, remember?” he replied and slipped on his shoes. When he reached for his jacket he felt the heat of someone else’s body on his back.

“What is it?” he asked without turning around. He knew what he would see anyways. Zoro would most likely be giving him a deadly glance through glossy eyes and without telling him why. He could already feel it burning a hole in his head.

“Do you have a key to the apartment downstairs? I’d like to train there a little if you don’t mind.” His voice was breathy and unexpectedly quiet. It would have been a lie to say that Sanji wasn’t surprised at least.

“Don’t act all nice on me. I prefer your honestly bad mood to this lousy show you put on. It’s creeping me out,” he replied in an equally low voice.

“Guess whose fault it is.”

“Definitely not mine, moron.”

“Oh really? Now give me the key. Please.”

Sanji reached for his blue coat on the wardrobe and started searching its pockets. He knew he had put the keys in one of them. When his fingers finally touched the dove-shaped key chain he pulled out two bunches of keys and handed them to Zoro who looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Keys. Idiot. The bunch with the dove on it has the spare keys to this apartment and the entrance door on it. Lucci must have left them when he saw you home the other day. The other bunch is for the apartment downstairs,” Sanji pulled his mobile out of his trousers pocked and placed it on top of the keys. “It’s the same game as always. Call me at the Baratié if anything happens. It’s the first number in the directory.”

“You should know by now that I won’t call you no matter what.”

That hurt and Sanji felt his stomach tighten and bile rising up his throat. Why the bloody hell was the sword freak getting to him so much? It irritated him endlessly.

“Fine. Do as you please, you’ll do it anyway.”

It wasn’t really what he had wanted to say. All he wanted was to know what was going on but he didn’t have the nerve to ask, because he knew it would end in an argument no matter how good his intentions were.

“Damn right,” Zoro said and left for his room to fetch his swords and a change of clothes as Sanji saw a moment later, when the swordsman passed him by again and exited the apartment. The door clicked shut quietly.
 

All the time Sanji hadn’t been able to process the information he had received so it would make sense to him. Unconsciously he had picked a fight with the marimo again. He always did, even if he didn’t really mean to. Why was that?

He slipped on his coat and went over to the kitchen to bid goodbye to his friends properly.

“See you later guys. The idiot went downstairs to train a little so he won’t accompany you on your tour.”

“But how will he get to the Baratié later?” Chopper asked.

“He is not plain stupid. He will manage; after all he got home last night safely too.”

Chopper nodded and smiled at Sanji. “I’m glad to know that you get along with him so well.”

“Honestly, I don’t get him.”

“Me neither.” Chopper replied.

“Me neither.” Nami added.

“My sentiments exactly,” Lysop stated.

“I do get him.” Ruffy stated seriously. “He’s troubled by something we did. Or something one of us didn’t do. Maybe he is angry because Sanji refused to prepare more breakfast for me.”

For one second, one tiny second, Sanji had been fascinated by the seriousness Ruffy could emit. To his dismay, this moment hadn’t lasted long enough to really solve the riddle. Sanji shook his head. Maybe driving to the restaurant would help him clear his thoughts. Driving a car always calmed him down and helped him to concentrate.

“I’ve got to go now. The handing out of presents will take place at midnight. Before that we’ll celebrate Chopper’s birthday. Dinner will be ready when you arrive. Have fun sightseeing.”

He left the apartment after his friends had bid him goodbye. Descending the stairs he paused in front of the training apartment and thought about whether to knock and try to speak to Zoro again or not. He didn’t hear a sound from the inside. Most likely the swordfighter was meditating again. No, it would be wiser just to leave. Maybe they could talk later about whatever was going on.
 

The entire time Sanji had needed to get to the restaurant he had brooded over what could possibly have happened to Zoro between yesterday’s breakfast and the end of the tournament. Step by step he reconstructed the day. Breakfast? No, everything had been quite normal. The tournament? The first couple of fights had not really been spectacular. Furthermore Zoro’s face hadn’t been visible to read from it. But he had seemed unfocused. His reactions had been rather slow. Now, what about the fight with Mihawk? It had been rather short but… something had changed in Zoro’s fighting stance. The moment before Mihawk had struck him. Maybe there was the fly in the ointment.
 

Sanji arrived at the restaurant and entered it through the backdoor. Not much to his surprise the kitchen was empty but he could hear a soft murmur through the door to the guestroom. So Jeff had a visitor again. Every bet it was Mihawk.

The moment Sanji wanted to open the door and say hi he heard something he knew wasn’t meant for his ears but he couldn’t stop himself from eavesdropping.

“That green haired brute lodging at my son’s place?”

“He is not ‘that green haired brute’ but my son, Jeff. That’s highly irritating.”

Well, that sure was news to Sanji. Furthermore it didn’t sound very positive in matters of the relationship between Zoro and Mihawk.

“Everybody would be rather inconvenienced to suddenly become the father of a grown man.”

“The problem is not his age, the problem is that we don’t get along. He seemed not very happy about me telling him my little secret. It was more like he pondered strangling me.”

“You told him?”

“Yes, I did. Yesterday, before the tournament started.”

Bingo. Sanji had hit the bulls-eye. And he had absolutely no idea of how to handle the newly gained information. That surely was a topic he felt no need to talk about with Zoro. Furthermore he was quite sure Zoro would also hate talking about it. Mihawk was his father. Well, the sword fighting skill sure could count as a common feature.

Sanji searched his pockets for another cigarette and lighted it. Fuck, that explained a lot.

“What are your further plans regarding Zoro?”

“I have absolutely no idea. He can’t stand me and I can’t say I blame him for that. After all I nearly killed him.”

Sanji had heard enough. He took a couple of steps from the door and called for his father.

“Jeff, are you here?”

“We are here in the guestroom, little eggplant.”

Sanji went over to them and greeted Mihawk.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Dulacre. Congratulations on your title defence. May I prepare some snacks for you?”

“It’s my pleasure. Thank you, Sanji, but I wanted to leave anyway. Give my regards to Zoro when you meet him next time,” Mihawk replied and left after a short goodbye to Jeff.

Sanji sat down and looked at Jeff without saying anything. He was content with sitting here in silence. God, it must be incredibly hard on Zoro. He tried to recall how he had felt back then when his parents had died. He knew he had been sad but what he remembered best was the hunger. The insatiable hunger Jeff had sacrificed his leg for. He loved the old fart and was grateful for moments like this when he felt it this intensively.

“What’s wrong with you, little eggplant? I haven’t seen you this thoughtful for quite a while,” Jeff asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I was thinking about the past, when you and I were on that godforsaken island. Did I ever thank you for…”

“Oh, stop babbling. Don’t you have a party to prepare?”

Sanji smiled. That’s how it was between them. Having a father sure wasn’t easy.
 

Chopper’s birthday party began way too early. Of course everything was prepared, thanks to the help of Jeff, but Sanji had had no time to decide yet how to handle Zoro. Much to his surprise the mould-head seemed rather composed. He was even less talkative than usual but that was understandable.

Sanji tried his best not to bother him too much and to keep the others from him a little. It was a nice party. Everybody was having a good time, eating, drinking what surely was about to reach worrying levels in its regularity and waiting for the presents.

Sanji was a perfect host and when it was about time for handing over the Christmas gifts he was worth every penny. He had noticed that Zoro had neither had had the time nor had he even thought of buying gifts for his friends, so Sanji had done it for him. Well, Sanji had made Jeff do it but that was the same. Nami got a pink leather belt studded with golden buttons, Ruffy got a voucher for free food at Jeff’s restaurant in London, Lysop got a nice white felt hat with a broad rim, Chopper also got a new hat in baby-blue and pink. They were delighted at how good Zoro still knew what they liked. Zoro who had sat in a corner of the room, still deep in thought, had been more than surprised when all of them had come rushing over to him to thank him for his beautiful presents and Sanji had had to quickly intervene in hitting him on the head when he had tried to deny that the presents were from him.
 

“Be glad they like your presents, moron. You gave me a murderous headache by thinking about them.” he hissed into his ear and saw that even the brick-head was able to put two and two together.

“You are so awfully nice to me. It makes me sick.”

Sanji sat down next to him in defeat and thought about what to say next. Meanwhile their friends had started unpacking their other gifts and were arguing about who had gotten the best of all. Chopper won, since it was his birthday.

“Listen, Zoro,” Sanji started but got instantly interrupted.

“Are we on first-name basis already? I don’t think I am drunk enough for your sweet-talk again.”

“I’m not going to say much, just, talk to somebody if anything’s amiss. You won’t do any good to bottle up everything.”

“Why would I, Dr. Freud?”

“Because you are behaving even odder than usual.” Sanji didn’t want to push him any further. Most likely it wouldn’t be a good idea to confront Zoro directly with what he knew. He just wanted him to know that he was there to listen to whatever he had to say. Well, if that wasn’t odd then nothing was. Sanji absolutely needed to have a nice long chat with himself to figure out what was wrong with him. He had never been that interested in anyone’s business before.

“Dream on.” Zoro stated, sunk deeper in his seat and pretended to take a nap.
 

The rest of the night was more or less uneventful. The party went on until it was almost time for taking his friends to the airport. He should have thought of that before but now it was too late. He called a cab for three of them to take them home and fetch their luggage while he drove the other ones home himself and afterwards to the airport.

Why on earth had they planned their flight back for the 25th of December?

Right, Garp and Ace were coming home today as a Christmas surprise for Zoro.

It was supposed to be his first Christmas with his entire family for the first time in years and Sanji could only hope that Zoro would appreciate it.
 

--- End of chapter 16 ---

28th Dec - Home again

French Affairs – Chapter 17
 

28th December - Home again
 

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been that much of a surprise to Sanji when Ruffy called the day after their departure just to tell him that Zoro’s strange behavior had gotten no better. On the contrary it had become worse.

On the 25th he had excused himself to his room and not left it since at least not during daytime, while he had trained like a maniac at night. He had tried to lure Zoro out with suggesting playing, storytelling, drinking and he even offered sharing his food but none of it had helped.

Not even the arrival of Garp and Ace had been worth more than a couple of minutes of Zoro’s precious time. Even Ace hadn’t gotten more than a couple of nice words and small-talk from Zoro before he had excused himself again and disappeared.

That had been three days ago and Ruffy was at his wits’ end.
 

“Sanji, I don’t know what to do. He’s just not himself anymore,” Ruffy whined and Sanji could see his puppy-like face before his mind’s eye.

“Did you try sending Chopper to talk to him?” he asked.

“Of course, and he actually is talking to Chopper, he’s talking to all of us as long as we are visiting him in his room and begin the chat. But he’s not talking about what’s off here. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Well, that sounds serious. What do you want me to do?” Sanji asked although he could already predict the answer.

“Can’t you talk to him? After all he talked to you when he was at your place.”

That sounded reasonable. Sanji agreed to giving it a shot, but found himself at the end of a dead line faster than he could finish saying “Hi moss-head, it’s me.”

If the idiot wanted to mope, fine. Why not?

Because it was nagging at Sanji.
 

He still couldn’t fathom why Zoro’s stay had turned out like this. Hadn’t they gotten along rather fine? Why hadn’t the moron taken his outstretched hand and told him what was bothering him? Well, he wouldn’t have done that as well, would he?

All in all Sanji came to the conclusion that everybody was unhappy as it was now. Mihawk was, Ruffy was, he himself was and of course Zoro was. It sucked to no end.

A decision had to be made. He wasn’t that full of himself to think he really could talk the brick-head into talking over his grievance. But maybe he could kick this childish behavior out of Zoro’s mind. He picked up the phone and started making preparations.
 

Not even eight hours later he stood in front of Ruffy’s home. What the hell was he doing here? Was the marimo really worth his time and effort? Questions he had brooded over for the last couple of hours, especially on the airplane, when he had had nothing else to do. Suddenly he had doubted his decision and become nervous. What if Zoro simply threw him out of his room and refused talking to him?

Sanji wasn’t used to being nervous. His abdomen felt strange, like it was full of burning butterflies. That was weird. Furthermore his stomach had started aching. Heavens, he felt like would faint any minute.

He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
 

When Ruffy opened the door he instantly jumped Sanji and screamed his name overjoyed.

“I don’t think I can talk to the marimo anymore, since I’m deaf and wouldn’t understand a word he said,” Sanji stated and plucked Ruffy off his chest.

“You really are here! This is so fantastic. Now you can cook us lots of meat!”

Ruffy was such a heartwarmingly simpleton.

After having entered the house and slipped on his slippers Sanji had to face the serious Ruffy again. He was staring up the staircase to Zoro’s door in this mature seriousness Sanji had always admired at him.

“I think I’ll better go right away before I have the time to think about what I’m doing here, don’t you think?” Ruffy simply nodded and stepped out of Sanji’s way. Lovely.
 

Upstairs Sanji knocked at Zoro’s door and waited for an invitation to enter.

“Oi, shithead. Be worth my while and let me in,” he demanded when no answer followed. A second later the door was opened and a confused looking Zoro stared at him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked a little confused and stepped aside to let Sanji in.

“That, dear fellow, is a question I have no appropriate answer for. I’ve been racking my brains over it but to no avail. It seems like I’ve lost my mind.” He stepped inside and took a seat on the bed. It felt natural to him to sit there on the blanket letting a cigarette rest in the corner of his mouth without lighting it, since he had a second home here, while Zoro looked as if he was quite uncomfortable with the situation.

“What do you want?” Zoro asked a little upset and just to say something as it seemed leaning his back against the door. He didn’t even bother to look at Sanji while talking to him.

“I still want to talk with you. I tried a couple of days ago when you hung up on me, remember? I think I know what’s bothering you,” Sanji explained a little irritated. He knew Zoro was playing dumb on purpose.

“Nevertheless you are here. That’s interesting. Now leave,” Zoro replied and strolled over to the window just to look out into the dark. That wasn’t quite the reaction Sanji had expected. Heavens, this father-thing really must have gotten to him. Zoro looked somehow… defeated.
 

“I shall give you regards from Mihawk,” Sanji tried to revive their conversation. “I learned that he is your father.”

“That’s right but none of your concern. Now shut the fuck up and get out of here,” Zoro demanded without turning around but Sanji could see him clenching his fists. “Leave me alone,” he added.

“You better shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say.” Sanji snapped. “I left my freaking restaurant closed just to come here to talk to you and you will bloody talk to me, got that?”

“No way in hell! I swear I’ll lose it if you don’t leave this room right this instant!” Zoro replied sharply but didn’t do any more. That was odd. Why the blazes didn’t he even look at him? Or hit him. Or do anything.
 

Sanji rose to his feet and headed over to Zoro but the instant he came into his reach Zoro turned around swiftly, grabbed his throat and dashed him against the wall next to the window, fixing him with his body.

“Why couldn’t you obey me and leave?” Zoro breathed in a husky voice. He was glaring daggers at Sanji and his entire body was radiating heat like he was running a fever. Sanji took a deep breath and tried to focus on whatever Zoro was doing. The odour of Zoro’s soap, his freshly washed clothing and his own unmistakable fragrance hit his nose. It his was strange to be well aware of such obvious yet intimate details. Sanji’s heartbeat quickened. What the hell was going on here?

Zoro’s warm hand still held his throat in a tight yet not painful grip.

Going entirely out of his way, Sanji gently asked, “What’s wrong with you, Zoro? Are you running a fever?”, while he waited for him to make his next move. It was fascinating to watch the muscles of Zoro’s face twitch without really telling what was going on inside his head.

Zoro was examining him. His face, his eyes, even his neck were surveyed before Zoro found his voice again.

“I’m not,” Zoro finally declared. “I’m fine. I’m just having a hard time. It’s freaking me out every second I think about it.”

Zoro paused. His voice hat become quieter and his speech had gotten slower as if he was pondering something. It was disconcerting Sanji. A shiver ran down Sanji’s spine and it felt like it exploded in his abdomen, making him gasp for breath.

Maybe this was the perfect time to remember that Zoro was not just a grown man with awe-inspiring sword fighting skills but was also beast. A beast behaving a little psycho. Yet, he wasn’t afraid of Zoro.
 

“Is it because of Mihawk?” he asked although he considered it a bad idea by now, but that was what he had come for and Zoro’s grip surprisingly loosened around his neck. His fingertips were still touching Sanji’s skin but his hands were trembling.

He still frowned but his thoughts seemed to be far away.

“I don’t think so,” he whispered after a while, “I’ve felt like this since the tournament but… it’s not him I’m thinking about.”
 

Zoro let go of him and strolled over to the bed. He sat down and let himself tilt backwards. He looked exhausted, as if it had cost him all his strength to say these few words instead of strangling Sanji. Damn, that was crazy.

Thinking about it, Sanji didn’t even know if he would have defended himself against Zoro. This had been way too surreal.

“What is it then?” he asked when he had found his voice again.

“I don’t want to talk about it but throw myself off a cliff just to end this irritating feeling.”

Whatever this was about it had thrown Zoro off track.

Sanji paced over to the bed and sat down next to Zoro. He hesitated but finally stretched out his hand and placed it on Zoro’s arm to soothe him.

“Don’t be stupid. What bothers you so much?”

That obviously had been a bad idea, since Zoro bolted up, shook his hand off and hissed at him: “It is you, for fuck’s sake!”

“That’s not an answer!” he hissed back not understanding what he had done wrong again. “How am I supposed to help you when you don’t cooperate?”

“Are you stupid, curly-brow? What the hell shall I tell you more?”

“The reason why I’m here for example, dumbass! What’s wrong with you?” Sanji yelled at him. This was driving him insane.

“Don’t bloody scream at me! I already told you!”
 

“You did?” By now Sanji was utterly confused. Zoro just looked at him in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

“Do you have neither brawns nor brains, shit-cook?” Zoro asked rubbing his temples.

“Seems like it. I have absolutely no clue what you said was bothering you except for me.”

“So?” Zoro asked and strolled over to the window again to watch the nighsky.

“I am troubling you?” That was unexpected for Sanji.

“You are haunting me. Now, listen up, I won’t explain myself twice. This is embarrassing enough once,” Zoro said and took a deep breath before he went on, “First I didn’t know what was going on with me but since I am back to England I do.”

Sanji didn’t even dare to breathe. His heart was racing and he could hear the sound of his blood rushing through his ears. Why was it making him nervous to hear this? What if he didn’t like the end of the story? And how did he fit in?

“I… ,” Zoro paused again. This sure was hard for him. “I’ve sort of become attached…”

“To Paris?” Sanji asked but he knew that this was not what Zoro had wanted to say.

“To you, idiot.” Of course, Sanji was flattered. A content smile spread on his lips without him noticing while he thought about what to say next.

“So you would want to stay with me in France, then?” he finally asked without knowing what he wanted to hear as an answer. Sure, the week he had spent with Zoro had been great and more fun than he had expected, but…

“Hell, if I know,” Zoro answered and turned to face Sanji. “That’s what I’ve been brooding over for the last four days. I’ve come to no conclusion yet. I don’t even know what the term ‘attached’ is supposed to mean. I’m not the great sage when it comes to emotional stuff. It’s freaking me out…” He paused.

“Please leave me alone, Sanji.”
 

--- End of chapter 17 ---
 

The next chapter will be the final one so look forward to it. :)

28th Dec - The End

French Affairs – Chapter 18 – The End
 

He hadn’t really ‘sort of confessed’ to a guy, had he?

What the hell? That was embarrassing, humiliating, disgraceful and simply not possible. He wanted to die. This was the worst night of his life. It was worse than being nearly killed by Mihawk, worse than having Mihawk as a father, worse than bloody everything!
 

“I won’t go; and I won’t let you run away this time.” Sanji’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Whatever was about to come would be no fun. He heard him walking over and took a deep breath to ready himself for Sanji’s outburst.

“I’m not…” Zoro started defending himself but got interrupted again when Sanji suddenly grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around while shoving his back against the wall next to the window just like Zoro had done before.

Zoro couldn’t fight back, he didn’t even want to. The sensation of being this close to Sanji again was filling his mind. The blonde felt warm and smooth as a silk against Zoro’s chest. Yet he had a very impressing tight grasp on Zoro’s shoulder that was for sure.

“No, you aren’t,” Sanji stated in a mellow voice, slowly shifting his hand from Zoro’s shoulder to his cheek and closing the distance between their lips.

The sensation of it was far beyond everything Zoro could have imagined. His entire body was tingling and his lower abdomen was prickling from the moment he had felt the warmth and smoothness of Sanji’s lips. Especially is lip lines felt incredibly soft under the slight and careful motions of Zoro’s lips. Yet, it was so… intense.

Zoro’s hands found their way to Sanji’s head, caressing his hair and cheeks.
 

“So you did reconcile in the end,” Ruffy’s cheery voice destroyed the atmosphere of the moment. “I knew it!”

“What a perfect timing,” Sanji groaned.

“Sanji! You must come down and cook for me! I mean us, but especially for me! I want meat. Lots of meat. Please!”

“I guess I’ve got to obey his will.” Sanji mumbled and turned to leave.

Zoro grabbed his arm suddenly panicking.

“What do you think you are doing, leaving me standing here like a fool? If you kissed me just to make fun of me, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

Sanji just shook his head and smiled at him.

“I would never use your feelings to make fun with you. Love is the most precious feeling there is. It’s the pure essence of power. It can make kingdoms rise and fall. It is…”

“All right. I got it. Now shut up!” Zoro felt his cheeks flush. All this love talk was softening his brains. Well, maybe it was also making him happy. A little.

“Meat?” Ruffy was trying to direct the attention on more important topics than romance again and very successfully on top of that since he simply decided on grabbing Sanji and dragging him away. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m starving. You are a cook so save me!”

Sanji rolled his eyes but followed his friend downstairs.

“Zoro would you be so kind to assist me?” were the last words Zoro could hear before Sanji disappeared around the corner and out of his sight.

“Of course I will,” he mumbled to himself not really overjoyed. “I’m the great sage when it comes down to cooking. I’ve never done anything else in my life. I bet he’ll make me peel the vegetable and lets me slice it since I’m the great swordsman, blah blah. Oh, how I hate cooking.”
 

Of course he had been right but now that he was slicing vegetable it wasn’t bothering him anymore. Being with Sanji when he was cooking was fascinating and furthermore soothing. Zoro still felt a little awkward with the situation he and Sanji had ended up in. Being in love with a man was something he had not really foreseen in his life planning. Not that he had really considered being in love at all.

Thinking about it, what would his friends think of them as a couple? They would most likely die laughing and not believe it for a second. He couldn’t believe it himself.

“What’s bothering you?” Sanji suddenly asked and turned around to face him.

“Nothing,” was the first thing escaping Zoro’s mouth before he could do anything against it. He was used to keeping things to himself so it was still hard to even try and voice what was nagging him. “I mean, what I wanted to say was that this is weird.”

“What is weird? I don’t understand what you are talking about.”

“Us.”

Zoro felt sorry for being unable to put his thoughts into words. It hadn’t been his intention to upset Sanji. Still it looked like he had done exactly that judging by the way Sanji looked at him. The blonde man was dumbfounded and even forgot to light a new cigarette.
 

“That sounded wrong again, damn. Oh, if you only were Chopper,” Zoro groaned and realised a second later that he had hit the bulls-eye once again. The idiot of the year was Einstein compared to him. He was almost literally biting the hand that fed him. Great.

“What are you trying to tell me? Am I suddenly not good enough for you anymore?”

“Hell no!” Zoro yelled annoyed. If it would have helped he would have slammed his head against the next wall. “I just know how to handle him for God’s sake! I don’t know how to talk about this emotional shit with you without making a complete fool of myself!”

“Just say what you mean! Every monkey could do that! It can’t be that hard, you know?”

Zoro took a deep breath and tried to collect himself.

“Fine,” he said and reached out for Sanji to pull him into a tight yet gentle embrace. “I’m sorry.” He felt Sanji return his embrace and relaxed a little. This was getting to him more than he had expected.

“Okay. Let’s try it again,” Sanji said and looked Zoro in the eyes. “What is bothering you?”

“I don’t know if I can accept being… in love.”

“This is stupid. Are you afraid of being considered gay?”

“Show me the one laughing about it and he’ll see what he’ll get. I’m just…”

There it was again. This knowing smile Sanji always showed when it came down to emotional business. It was irritating. Zoro had absolutely no idea of how to handle the situation while Sanji seemed to be pure self-confidence again.

“Could it be that you are worrying about being inadequate?” he purred.

Zoro could only shrug his shoulders. Maybe he really was worried about being not good enough. He had no idea of cooking, being romantic or being at least a bearable companion, let alone of being a lover. Furthermore he wasn’t really interested in anything but becoming the best swordsman in the world.

“Maybe I’m not the right one for you.”

“You definitely worry too much. I’ve spent an entire week with a brutish moron who was doing only as he pleased. I don’t say I wouldn’t wish for a little more consideration for me but I don’t expect you to change. I want you as you are. Do you understand that?”

Instead of answering Zoro decided on kissing Sanji as a reply. It was confirming what he had expected to happen: it was making his entire body tingling with joyful excitement again.
 

“Well, that sure was interesting but tell me when this is about to turn into a peep show so I can go, okay?”

When Zoro recognised the owner of the voice all his joy vanished and gave room to surprise and anger.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped at Mihawk, his arms still wrapped around Sanji’s waist.

“That is a question you better ask your boyfriend,” Mihawk replied coldly.

“What is he talking about?” Zoro asked doing what Mihawk had suggested.

“Well, first of all I’m glad you really came here Monsieur Dulacre,” Sanji welcomed his guest while freeing himself of Zoro’s embrace and offering a hand to Mihawk as welcome. Mihawk accepted and returned the handshake. “I didn’t really expect you to follow my invitation so I’m happy you did. Although it seems that it was a bad idea after all.”

“Of course it was. Who would want to have him here? Not me!” Zoro snapped.

“This is so cool!” Ruffy squealed and hopped on Mihawk’s back. “Zoro! Did you see him? It’s Mihawk! The kendo world champion is in my house! This is amazing!”

“Would you be so kind as to get off my back, damn brat?” Mihawk asked rather annoyed yet he was lifting no finger to get rid of Ruffy himself.
 

“This is really embarrassing,” Zoro mumbled and paced over to Mihawk to pluck his brother off his back.

“It’s interesting to know that you consider this kid embarrassing but not your own being ridiculously soppy.”

“Is that all you have to say? If it is then please leave,” Zoro snapped. He still had no idea why Mihawk had come here after all. This was beyond him.
 

Sanji cleared his throat to get Zoro’s attention. “Actually, I wanted you and Mihawk to talk your family-business over. I know I have no right to interfere but I thought it might be best for you.”

“What family-business?” Ruffy asked without getting a reaction.

“I don’t have anything like ‘family-business’ with him.”

“That’s not true, Zoro, and you know it,” Sanji insisted.

“Well, maybe I have a compromise to offer,” Mihawk suddenly stated and finally caught Zoro’s attention. He still didn’t want to have his so called father here but he had to admit that Sanji was right. It was necessary to know where he stood when he wanted to fight Mihawk again. Else it would always linger in the back of his mind and affect his equilibrium so he would never be able to surpass Mihawk.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Zoro snarled.

Mihawk glared at him but finally a mischievous smile spread on his lips.

“It’s rather easy. Find me. Find the place where I live and make it there without getting yourself killed. If you can do that I might consider you worthy of my time.”

“Doesn’t sound that interesting yet,” Zoro replied. “Why would I want to spend time with you?”

“Right,” Mihawk said. “Why would you want to spend time with your only hindrance in being the best swordfighter of the world? What could you gain from it? Maybe you should think about it while searching for me. My offer remains valid until January 31st. Don’t make me wait for too long.” Mihawk turned to leave without waiting for a reply.

“No! Don’t leave!” Ruffy shrieked. “You must stay for dinner. Sanji’s food is the best you’ll ever get to taste!”

“Let him leave Ruffy. You’ll get his share,” Zoro remarked and it worked. Ruffy led Mihawk to the door, assuring he was sorry that Mihawk had to leave so suddenly but he would take care of his share of food for him.
 

“What the hell was that?” Zoro asked a little confused. Mihawk couldn’t have come here just to play games with him, could he? Still it seemed like Mihawk somehow wanted to get in touch with him even though it wasn’t in a fatherly way. Zoro was fine with that. He had lived long enough without having a father and it wasn’t that important to him now that he had realised that his family still was the same no matter what their blood relation might be. He had brothers, a grandfather, a sister-in-law, all of them were his dear friends and now he even had a lover. He did neither need nor want a father.

“I guess he figured out the best way to deal with you,” Sanji stated and cracked a smile.

“What way? Are you saying he’s trying to play me like a puppet?”

“No. I just wanted to say that your ambition spurs you and he spurred your ambition. You want to surpass him, don’t you?”

“Of course I want to and I will.”

“See? He’s well aware of that and offered you a helping hand.”

Zoro was confused again. Why would Mihawk offer him anything? And why would he be interested in improving his opponent’s skills? That was weird. No one in his right mind would do something like that.

When Zoro finished his train of thought he realised that Sanji was standing right in front of him. He looked slightly worried.

“Will you go?” he asked.

Zoro smiled and caressed his cheek in a sudden rush of affection. He really had fallen for Sanji.

“No, I won’t at least not now.” It was strange for him but Zoro meant it. There was no need to hurry and run after Mihawk. One day he would surpass him. Be it with or without his help.

Sanji smiled a faint smile. “But isn’t that what you want?”

“No, it is not. After years of being without my family and now that I’ve got you why would I want to leave again? Don’t be silly.” He closed the gap between their faces and tenderly kissed Sanji. The silky touch of his lips still was an overwhelming sensation for Zoro. Sanji tenderly moved his lips slightly brushing over Zoro’s to finally gently nip on his lower lip he nearly forgot to breathe. Unconsciously he mirrored every movement of Sanji and when the tip of Sanji’s tongue touched his lips it struck him like lightning. Heavens this wasn’t his first kiss in life yet he had never experienced something like this before. Being in love sure was different.

“For now I only want to be with you. Mihawk can wait a little longer.”

“But what about the deadline he gave you to find him?”

“Why would I care? Either he wants me to find him and accepts my pace or he does not. I won’t bow to him. Furthermore I’m not ready to face him in a fight again even if it was just or practice. In my current state I’ll never be able to beat him.”

“In your current state?”

“I’m in love I guess. How am I supposed to focus on training when my mind is full of you?”

“Come on, guys. This cheesy talk is more than I can take,” Nami interrupted them. “Furthermore Mihawk left a message for you. He said: ‘Tell him to pay attention to the year I mentioned.’”

Zoro tried to make sense of the message but couldn’t. After all Mihawk hadn’t mentioned a year, had he? Or had Zoro simply missed it? What a nuisance. But Sanji seemed to have understood and smiled a genuine smile.

“I guess he’ll have to wait for quite a while then. I’m not planning to let you think of anything but me anytime soon.”
 

---END---
 

I hope you enjoyed the story. :)