Introducing, a 100 Theme Challenge featuring everyone's favorite swordsman! Some may be AU, others not. Some will be ZoRo (I rephrase… most will be ZoRo) and some ZoNa or whatever. However, no BL. I will take requests for certain subjects, so you can PM me those or put it in your review. Much appreciated.

Theme: 50 – Breaking the Rules
Summary: Zoro forces himself to go to Sanji for advice. Post-Alabasta, pre-Water 7

This was hell.

Zoro had set a number of rules on himself. Some rules could be bent and interpreted in many different ways, but the Top 5 rules were never to be broken. There were just those lines you never crossed, unspoken boundaries, the limit of your willingness to stepping outside your comfort zone.

Five. Never steal Luffy's meat.

Four. Polish katana at least once a day.

Three. Exercise at least twice a day.

Two. Never borrow money from Nami.

And one. The most important: NEVER go to Sanji for advice.

Zoro would never give that dumbass the pleasure of humiliating him, taunting him of being too stupid of figuring out these things for himself. Sanji would never let him live it down, a constant blackmail. Zoro shuddered just thinking about it.

But there was one thing only the cook knew how to do. It certainly wasn't cooking; Zoro didn't give two shits about that. It wasn't eyebrow-curling; Zoro liked his eyebrows, thank you very much. And it was most certainly not about the best sex positions, which is what Sanji had been ranting about for a few days.

"Hey," said Zoro nonchalantly, throwing open the door to the kitchen, where Sanji was standing at the sink. "Need any help?"

Sanji stared over his shoulder at the swordsman, a little surprised, but looked down at his red hands where he had been scrubbing a particularly dirty iron skillet for the past forty five minutes with no progress. "Yeah. I suppose. Think you can get this shit off?"

"Tch. Could do it with my eyes closed."

Sanji stepped back and let the burly swordsman take his place, folding his arms and puffing on his cigarette, observing Zoro with a careful eye. After a moment, he asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to help? Shouldn't you be training or sleeping or doing whatever the hell you do?"

Zoro winced. He set the skillet into the sink and turned off the water. Godammit. The red was already creeping up the back of his neck; he could feel it. His hands shook, and he held the counter with a vice grip. "Yeah, I should. Here I am talking to you."

"Do you need something?" Sanji asked lazily. "Cause if you're not going to clean that, then get the hell out of my kitchen."

"Ineedadvice."

Zoro let the words out in one huge breath, speaking so quickly and quietly, Sanji couldn't hear. The cook leaned forward. "What?"

Zoro breathed meditated for a minute, inhaling and exhaling to calm himself down. "I need advice," he said again.

Sanji snorted out a laugh. "What for? How to bake a cake? It's not anyone's birthday for a while yet."

"Why the hell would I want to bake a cake? No, it's something much more… personal."

Sanji blinked. This was so unlike the swordsman, going to anyone (much less him) for something as petty as advice. Still, he was intrigued, and nodded his agreement. "What'd'ya need?"

Zoro accidentally broke the counter, he was holding it so hard. Waving away Sanji's yells of payment, he turned and glared at the other man. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Don't laugh." Sanji held up his right hand and swore he wouldn't breathe a word. "How do you get the girls to like you?"

Sanji almost stopped breathing. His lungs suddenly malfunctioned, and he began coughing loudly, doubled over as he thumped his chest. Zoro only stared at him confusedly, though the red was still curling his cheeks. The cook's coughing fit only lasting for a few minutes before the hacking suddenly changed into laughing. The blonde roared with laughter, bending backward from the force of the sound escaping his lips. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"Goddammit, Sanji, get a hold of yourself," Zoro growled, a tic mark appearing on his temple.

"Sorry, sorry," Sanji gasped, his chest heaving. "I just never thought I'd hear that from your mouth!"

"Shut up, someone will hear!" Zoro whispered angrily, glancing at the door.

Sanji sputtered out a few half-cough-half-hiccup giggles before finally resuming his calm composure. "You want to know how I impress the blessing to men known as women."

Zoro sat down at the table, gripping his hair. "I know somebody who wants to know."

Sanji took a seat across from the swordsman, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Does your friend have a certain one in mind?"

A nod. "Yeah."

"What does she like?"

"Books. Lots of books."

Sanji held back another laugh as he immediately knew who. "Well, if she likes books, then you buy her a book."

Zoro winced. Rule number two: NEVER borrow money from Nami. Which would have to be the case if he had to go through with that; he was flat broke. And it wasn't like he could go collect a bounty; he couldn't turn the guy in, not with a bounty on his own head. "Anything else?"

"Well, if she's an older woman, a good drink would nice, especially while she reads. And douse her with beautiful sonnets, but not too much. And your choice of wording is very important, too. Rhymes is key."

"I'm not – I mean, my friend isn't going to rhyme," Zoro interrupted.

Sanji took a drag. "Well, my best suggestion would to just be how you normally are. But if this girl likes your friend back, then keep an eye out for tell tales signs. You know… like glances or questions for help, or requests to train with him."

Zoro narrowed his eyes. "Why the hell do you think I'm interested in this bullshit?"

Sanji shrugged, unsuccessfully hiding his smirk behind a hand. "I never said you were interested."

There was a knock at the door, and it opened to reveal the bright blue eyes of the archaeologist, Nico Robin. "Hello, Cook-san, Kenshi-san," she said, smiling that mysterious smile. Zoro didn't look at her, only nodding his recognition. Sanji, on the other hand…

"Robin-chwan~!" The cook noodled to her side. "Is there anything I can do for my lovely goddess~!"

"No, thank you," she said, then laid a hand on Zoro's shoulder. "Kenshi-san, could you do me a favor?"

"Depends." Zoro grunted.

"I need you to spread lotion on my back," she said, and Zoro looked up to retort with a flat out no when his vision was suddenly met with the massive bosom of the dark-haired woman, held back with a lavender bikini top.

Zoro seemed to forget he was in a chair and stumbled back, tripping over the chair legs and toppling onto his back with a crash. Robin giggled. "Fufufu. I'll be outside." She exited the room.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit.

Sanji had stopped noodling and was glaring down at Zoro like Why does Robin-chan want you to massage her back!?

Zoro grumbled, untangling himself from the floor and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sanji stared at his retreating back, the anger draining from his body. And Zoro thought he was the only intelligent one around here.

Sanji sighed and rolled up his sleeves, returning to the sink. "Damn. Now I have to finish the skillet."