A/N : Hi there everyone! The holidays are almost here! YOSH! And now I'll be able to have time to write -.- study takes up too much of my time. Here's my newest idea for another story. IT IS NOT YAOI! Hope you all enjoy it!

The Broke Blokes

"One will always find moss in the shadows"

There had been more and more noise coming from the closed blue door located down the dark, narrow, brick laid alley. The black cats had been scared away by the ruckus and the mice population flourished as a result of it, becoming as annoying as the noise. Today, however, was the loudest. Crashing of glass and china, howls of revenge and the continues foul words filled the alley, climbing the moss covered walls and entering the opened dustbins – there was no escaping it.

He had been a nocturnal creature for some years now; so a little daylight noise wasn't going to tempt him off his turf. He would just have to deal with it until the sun went down and the shadows hid him from the world, then he would move and find out what caused such noise.

Apparently, he wouldn't have to wait that long.

The blue door swung open, grinding the opposite wall as it had always done, as fifty or so mismatched hands from various people heaved another person out. The shouting was louder now that the door was open, though the moss absorbed some of their swearing.

"Let go of me!" he snapped, twisting away from the numerous hands. "I can lead myself out of your crappy restaurant."

"You're fired you blonde twit!" A voice growled loudly before slamming the door in the man's face.

He glared hard at the door with an eye and lit a cigarette. "It's Sanji, dumb-ass." He turned sharply on his black heels and stalked down the alley. It wasn't as though he wanted to work in a place as low as 'Lee's Little Restaurant'. Yes it was a restaurant; yes it was definitely 'little'; and yes Lee was the largest jerk Sanji had ever the misfortune to meet. But he needed that job to pay the rent of his apartment, the electricity, the water and for a little food and – let's face it – without that money from 'Lee's Little Restaurant', his life was going to do a major u-turn. Backwards.

Sanji shoved his hands deep into his pockets and kicked an old coke tin along the brick work. It flew true and clunked dully into a shadowy corner.

"Oomph!"

Sanji stopped and stared into the darkness. There was something different about the moss that grew there. Perhaps it may have flourished from the extra gloom or perhaps it was the way it moved forward, picked up the can and threw it back.

Stunned at what he had just witnessed, Sanji stepped closer and said, "Hello?" Not to his surprise he earned another grunt. It was just some down-and-out who dwelled at the back of the restaurant and lived on food scraps. Sanji despised these sorts of people who were too lazy to contribute to the good of modern day society and who made the alcohol industry rich.

The down-and-out moved.

"Stay where you are, poor-man," Sanji warned darkly.

Through the mountain of rags and paper and eye appeared. The pupils dilated becoming alert, dangerous, and deadly. Yet there was a hint of pride that Sanji found he was envious of.

"I can't see," the man replied dryly, "not while the sun is up." The mound shifted its position. "You're the idiot that makes all the noise. Who are you?"

"What do you want to know for?"

"No reason," he replied carelessly, the mound began to curl up.

"It's Sanji," Sanji mumbled – slightly ashamed that his name had never become one connected to a world famous chef.

Another eye opened. "Sanji?" The mound rose, the rags and paper fell away, revealing a more human figure.

Sanji watched the transformation with growing dread, until those familiar eyes burned into his. Tugging on his collar he said, "Zoro?"

Zoro growled inwardly as he stared at his old companion. "What the hell are you doing here, dart-brow?"

Sanji looked at the mound of life-less rags and back to Zoro. "You live…there?" He pointed at the dark corner. "You are lower than low, Marimo," he sucked hard on his dying cigarette. "It's disgusting."

Zoro sneered at the blonde, pasty man. "So? I'm happy right here." He leaned casually against the wall of his moss-covered home.

Sanji looked hard at his old rival who had found some form of happiness beneath his brown coloured rags, in his home amongst the mossy bricks. He, for a fleeting moment, pictured himself doing the same if he didn't find a job soon – it was an image he would expect in nightmares. There was no happiness for him doing what Zoro did. Besides, it was disgusting and who knew what the coming winter would be like. Sanji turned sharply and walked away.

"You got fired again, eh?" Zoro called after.

The blonde man stiffened. "I don't need to work there."

"Seems to me you do," slurred the green headed man. "Someone who works in such a down-and-out place is a desperate man."

Sanji spun around to face him, his blood boiled fiercely beneath his white skin. "I am not a desperate man!"

"Are too," Zoro retorted. "I can tell by the way you suck on that cigarette, like it's the last one you'll ever light and breathe in."

Sanji became suddenly aware of the cigarette butt caught between his teeth and hastily spat it out, stamping on it and twisting the dying embers out. He stared at the smudge left in the ground. Oddly enough, it was his last one – he no longer could afford to keep smoking and the sad truth of the situation was that Sanji was getting desperate to find a secure job; Zoro had just brought that painful fact out into the open. "Bloody Marimo," he muttered.

Zoro watched Sanji in annoyance. What was the blonde man trying to do? Was he trying to right the wrongs of this world? Was he being something he wasn't? Or was he trying to fit in like every other man and woman on the street? He had personally tried that, fitting in, but it never worked with him – almost drove him into despair. That was until he found the pleasures of being free. Every dark corner was some place to live for a night and he didn't have to pay rent or mortgage or anything! In his eyes the world was his and his world only consisted of him.

"What?!" Zoro had just fleetingly caught the meaning of what Sanji was asking of him.

Sanji frowned angrily, trying to keep together whatever pride remained. "You're a prime example of what I don't want to become, Marimo," Sanji said. "I need to find a bloody job damn quick and you're going to help me."

Zoro felt his world being invaded. "Like hell!" He snapped. "Why should I help you?"

Sanji felt for his thinning wallet. "I'll buy you lunch."

The tanned face of Zoro's instantly changed. "Include dinner too and you've got a deal."

"Deal."

A/N: Yep, the story is set in modern-ish time XP!! Tell me what you think - no flamers! - REVIEWS! REVIEWS! REVIEWS!