Seeing the green-haired swordsman sick was enough to make Sanji's stomach churn. Zoro barely had the energy to respond to the cook's teasing, and the way his head drooped into his hands made him look so pathetic.

"You'd better fix yourself up. Dinner'll be ready in a couple minutes," Sanji grumbled.

Zoro raised his head and coughed a little. "I don't… think I'm coming to dinner tonight," he said quietly.

"Fine, your loss. More for everyone else." Sanji paused for a moment in front of the slouching swordsman, just in case he decided to follow Sanji into the dining room after all. But Zoro only leaned back against the wall and let out a deep breath.

"You gonna' stand there all day, cook?"

"No. I just. Don't understand how anyone could pass up a chance to eat my delicious food." Sanji chuckled at himself, his shoes clicking softly as he made his way to the kitchen.

The night before, Zoro had gone to bed hours before anyone else. He had hardly made it through dinner, what with his violent coughing and groaning about his headache. Great. He's getting sick, Sanji had thought. All we need is a virus floating around this boat. One sick person usually meant the whole crew was bound to fall ill sooner or later.

Usually he didn't care about Zoro. But that night, Sanji felt different. The shitty marimo was always sulking and napping against the walls of the Sunny with his arms crossed over his chest. But no matter what, his dark green eyes were always smiling and alert, accepting of Sanji's joking remarks. That night, Zoro lacked his playfulness. It bothered Sanji.

For the duration of the next day, Zoro remained dull and tired. Even more so than usual. And when he groaned that he couldn't come to dinner, Sanji knew something was definitely wrong. The swordsman refusing food might as well have been the end of the world.

Having returned to the kitchen, Sanji finished preparing dinner silently. He brought the serving bowl out, heaping with spaghetti and massive meatballs (Sanji knew better than to go lightly on the meat, for Luffy's sake). He arranged everything nicely on the dining table, calling sweetly for Nami and Robin. Eventually the smell of food brought Luffy hurdling to the table, with Usopp and Chopper in tow. Franky pounded in heavily. Brook leapt in as well, his bones clattering excitedly.

"Yohoho! Smells fantastic, Sanji!"

"Should be pretty fantastic," the cook said with a smile.

The crew ate in their usual animated matter. Luffy devoured a serving fit for an entire family, still claiming to be famished afterward. The ladies received the typical special treatment from Sanji, who was always prepared to jump to his feet to refill their drinks. Chopper and Usopp laughed. Brook hummed a tune and Franky talked about his super day. It would have been a normal dinner if not for the absence of Zoro.

"Hey, where's Zoro?" Luffy asked between bites. It was about time someone noticed.

"Is Swordsman-san not joining us for dinner?" Robin questioned.

Sanji wiped his hands and adjusted his tie. "He's, ah… Not feeling up to eating right now." He didn't want to sound concerned for the damn marimo-head. Besides, everyone was so used to Zoro's mellow nature that the thought of him sleeping through dinner wasn't overly alarming.

Midway through the meal, after repeatedly glancing at Zoro's empty seat, Sanji swallowed a mouthful of pasta and stood. "I—I'll be right back." He left the dining room on the tapping heels of his oxfords, and stepped onto the deck.

Zoro hadn't moved from where he'd been earlier, but his sickly appearance took Sanji by surprise. He was extremely pale, which was unsettling, since the man's skin was usually bright and slightly suntanned. His forehead was resting on his hands, and his elbows on his knees; when Sanji looked closer, he could tell that the green-haired man was trembling a bit.

"Zoro!" he gasped, sparing the poor guy an insolent nickname. When Zoro looked up, his eyes were foggy and dark.

"What? Leave me alone!" His voice cracked.

"There's something really wrong with you. I need to get Chopper."

"No! I'm fine!" Zoro tried to stand, but faltered. His face went blank as though he were barely coherent. Zoro's refusal made all the more reason for Sanji to be concerned.

"You stay right there. I'm getting Chopper and you can't do anything about it."

Sanji hurried back to the dining room. The relaxed chitchat and laughter of the crew died as soon as they saw the look on Sanji's face.

"Chopper. I need Chopper now."

The little reindeer's ears twitched. "What? What's the matter Sanji? Are you alright?"

"It's Zoro. He's really sick." Am I seriously the only one? Sanji thought. The only one who can tell the fucking difference between Zoro's usual demeanor and him when he's sick?

Chopper followed quickly behind Sanji. It was hard to tell whether the little doctor was worried or if he was thrilled to have a patient to tend to. When he caught sight of Zoro, Chopper transformed to Heavy Point and patted the man gently on the shoulders.

"Zoro? How did this happen? Did you suddenly feel this coming on?"

"I think he's been like this since last night," Sanji explained, though it pained him to admit his concern for the marimo. "And he hasn't looked too great all day. But I came out here to check on him… er, see if he was still out here, and he looked awful."

With his larger form in use, Chopper picked Zoro up carefully and hung him over his shoulder. "I'll take him to my quarters and see what I can do." Sanji watched his two crewmates disappear from the deck. Luffy and the others had emerged from the dining room and were interrogating Sanji like crazy.

"Zoro's fine," Sanji sighed. "Probably just has a cold or something." He knew it was more than that. Zoro could ignore the symptoms of a cold. This was something worse.

As the sun began to set, Sanji made his way to the guy's quarters and settled into his hammock bunk. He pulled out his favorite cookbook and began to read the recipes he'd studied for years, feeling the worn pages between his fingertips. Roast recipes, pie recipes, soup recipes—things he'd made hundreds of times. Foods he'd prepared for his crew and helped to consume, while watching the smiles on their faces grow wider with the taste. Being a cook, Sanji was certain, was the best job in the world, even though at times he felt undervalued, and especially under-thanked by certain crewmembers.

Carried away by his thoughts, Sanji suddenly lost interest in reading. Speaking of certain crewmembers, there was Zoro to worry about. Sanji had never seen him so sick before. Urgh. Why was he worried about Zoro? Goddamn Marimo.

That was when Sanji felt something odd. A pang in his stomach. A pang of guilt.

Sanji wasn't one to carry a lot of guilt. In fact, most of the remarks that came out of his mouth were rude, and he didn't care one bit.

There it was again. Dammit.

Sanji couldn't ignore it. He felt bad for some stupid reason, and his thoughts kept going back to Zoro. He was so mean to the swordsman! But he didn't care, right? Nah. Who cares about that guy? He's annoying beyond words. Always yawning and downing mugs of beer, never thanking Sanji for his cooking, never complimenting the carefully-crafted meals he shoved into his face, never ever even noticing the pretty sprigs of oregano garnishing his plate. Gah! What a shit.

Sanji dropped his book to the ground and rolled over in his hammock. He was too hot to need a blanket. And dammit, he wasn't even tired. And what if Zoro just died in the middle of the night?

Shut up, Sanji. Why the hell would Zoro die? He probably didn't have a deadly disease or anything. It was probably a common flu.

Sanji's throat tickled as he let out a cough. A bad one. He couldn't quite satisfy the scratchiness. Was he getting sick too? No, he couldn't be. It was just from smoking. Damn his stupid bad habits. He rolled to his other side and counted the rows of wood panels on the wall in boredom. None of the other guys had come to bed yet, but he liked it that way, silent and lonely. There was no way of getting to sleep once Usopp and Luffy came to bed, with their awful snoring, so Sanji was always sure to be dozing before then.

Luckily, sleep washed over him at last.

Sanji woke to an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't an emotional pain that weighed him down, but a physical ache. His head and throat both throbbed as well. Well shit, he thought. Now I'm sick too? His chest heaved in a shallow breath. He really felt like absolute shit.

The thin blond man sat up, and he was instantly exhausted. And when Luffy's voice began to echo through the interior of the Sunny, Sanji felt ten times more exasperated.

"HEY!" the young man shouted. "HURRY AND GET UP! WE'RE DOCKING HERE!"

Sanji rolled his legs over the side of the hammock and anchored his feet to the ground. "Luffy, where the hell are we?" he groaned. The captain didn't respond, as he could be heard talking excitedly to his other crewmates on the deck. Sanji sighed and looked around the guys' quarters through half-closed eyes, only to realize he was the last one to get up. He really must have been sick to have slept longer than Luffy and Usopp and Zoro.

Oh yeah, Sanji thought. Wonder how that marimo's doing.

Sanji slowly rose to a standing position and walked onto the deck. To his surprise, the Thousand Sunny was pulling to the shore of an island and everyone was getting ready to hop off. Seriously, Sanji? How could you have slept through this? Though he wasn't feeling the least bit energetic, Sanji slowly walked over to Luffy to ask him what the heck was going on.

"Luffy. Where are we?" Sanji persisted.

"I dunno! Some island." The young captain gave Sanji a warm smile. "Hurry up and get some clothes on so you can join us!"

Sanji looked down at himself and remembered he was wearing boxers and no shirt. Whoops. Never mind the fact that he was nearly naked; the real problem was that Sanji was freezing. Something was definitely off.

Wait, why was Chopper there too? Shouldn't he have been staying with Zoro?

Couldn't believe he was asking this. "Hey, where's Zoro?"
"Remember, he's sick!" Luffy said. "He can't come with us."
Chopper placed his little hoofed hands on his hips. "Zoro's going to stay in the sick bay. I hate to leave him here alone, but…" The reindeer looked wistfully from the boat at the beautiful island in front of them. There were pretty hills and grass and no people or houses to be seen. Why they were stopping there was beyond Sanji's comprehension, but the crew had been cooped up on board for quite a while.

"I think he'll be just fine alone," Sanji said with a cough. He continued to clear his throat for a moment as Chopper leaned to get a good look at his face. The doctor's brow furrowed.

"Sanji, you're not feeling good either, are you?"

Sanji hid his face in his hair and pulled out a cigarette, lighting up quickly. "I'm fine." He took a drag and coughed again. Chopper, having very little respect for peoples' personal space, climbed onto Sanji and sat on his shoulder to feel the cook's forehead.

"What the hell—" Sanji swatted at Chopper, who refused to move.

The doctor scowled. "Sanji. You're burning up! Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? I'm fine! It just got really hot in our room last night."

"No, you're sick. And really pale."

"I'm always pale. Haven't you noticed?" Sanji retorted, though his attempt to defend himself was quickly contradicted by another forceful cough. He suddenly felt weak and his knees gave out, catching himself on the ground with his hands. His cigarette fell out of his mouth; Chopper jumped off Sanji's shoulder and stomped it out.

"You need to be careful! You're obviously unhealthy. You need to rest," Chopper ordered. "I'll take you back to my infirmary and…"

"I'm fine, please," Sanji grumbled, hands and knees on the ground. His head started to feel light and fuzzy. No, he wasn't fine. He knew that he was absolutely not okay. But the last thing he wanted was to be fussed over by Chopper and given special attention.

Luffy was urging everyone off the ship and Chopper began to look anxious. "Ergh," he sighed. "Sanji, go back and lie down. We're going to go play on the island."

Sanji wanted to prove that he was in good enough shape to join them on the island, but seriously? Did he really want to go anyway? He could barely even stand. "Fine, I'll stay."

"Good," Chopper said with a smug grin. "I want you to rest. And make sure Zoro rests too. We don't need our whole crew to end up sick." In seconds, Chopper's serious 'doctor face' melted into a childish grin. He bounded toward Luffy and Usopp, who immediately joined in some game of tag. Sanji felt a sick feeling wash over him and he had to clutch his head on his way back to the sleeping quarters. Shit, why did this have to happen? Sanji hated being sick. Being sick meant he shouldn't cook for anyone. Unless virus-sandwiches were on the menu.

The blond had barely made it to his hammock before he collapsed into uncomfortable sleep. He could feel himself sweating with heat and shuddering with cold at the same time as his mind went out like a light bulb.

Zoro woke up in the doctor's quarters. He felt so incredibly shitty. Everything from his killer headache to his upset stomach. And for some reason, Chopper wasn't there. In fact, as he strained to listen to his surroundings, he couldn't make out any of the usual loud voices and laughter of his nakama. Was everyone gone? He wanted so badly to get up and look for his crewmates, but he was so damn weak and exhausted.

Come to think of it, Chopper had said something earlier about docking and playing on an island. Something about how Zoro should stay behind and rest. As if that were a shame. Zoro couldn't imagine doing anything besides sleeping. He couldn't even think about food without feeling faint. Even beer sounded unappealing.

The green-haired man, lying shirtless on the bed, swiftly transitioned from hot to cold. He pulled up the blanket and buried his nose into the fleece. Maybe he was a little hungry after all. In fact, he was almost craving some of that shit-cook's chicken noodle soup. Yeah, that really did sound good. Almost so good that he might give Sanji a big hug if he were to walk in with a nice steaming bowl. And that was saying a lot, considering all Zoro'd ever wanted to do to that cook was punch him in his stupid-fuck face.

Gawd, Zoro was getting really bored. If only he'd felt better; the best time to train was when everyone else was gone.

Slowly, the swordsman peeled back the covers, beginning to sweat again, and walked onto the deck. The sun was painfully bright and way too warm on his skin. He rubbed his one good eye and sat down beneath the shade of the mast. If he didn't feel like downright crap, it would have been very relaxing. The waves lapped at the Sunny and water trickled down the ship's woodwork. Faraway gulls cawed and the trees on the island rustled a bit. He looked at the land mass in front of the boat, wishing he had the energy to join his crewmates up there. But as long as he could just relax and sleep all alone, everything was—

Cough!

Where the hell did that come from.

Goddammit. There was someone else on the boat. Whoever it was let out another cough. It was coming from the guy's sleeping quarters. But it was hard to tell who exactly it was coming from.

Naturally, Zoro had to find out who it was. He got to his feet, legs jittery and tired, and followed the sound. He entered the guys' room to see a blond head poking up over a blanket in one of the hammocks.

Of course. It had to be Sanji. How lucky was Zoro to be left alone with the spiral-browed cook? Great. Just great. Life was peachy.

Zoro found himself walking closer to Sanji's hammock. He didn't exactly know why. It was just… He wanted to see if Sanji was sleeping. Was he sick too? As Zoro came nearer, he noticed that Sanji was really pale, almost grayish looking. As much as the guy got on his nerves, it was almost sad to see him like that. Sanji was always so full of life—while swooning ladies or tossing ingredients into a mixing bowl—and seeing him dull and, ick, slightly gray, was disheartening.

But strangely peaceful.

Dude. Why would you even think something like that…? He was crazy. But Zoro didn't take his eyes off Sanji. It was almost… too precious to see the flirtatious Casanova in such a pitiful state. His golden hair was limp. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Well. Not that Zoro probably looked any better. The guy felt like he'd been socked in the head and the stomach, and drugged to feel drowsy as hell. But for some reason he felt empowered to be standing over his rival like that, poised to laugh at the sickly chef. He couldn't laugh though. His abdomen was sore from heaving his stomach out during the night. Now that was an ab workout like you couldn't believe.

To Zoro's surprise, Sanji stirred a bit in his hammock. Zoro nearly jumped backward, suddenly realizing how awkwardly close he was to the cook. He didn't have the time to lurch his tired body away before Sanji's blue eyes opened. And they fell upon Zoro immediately.

"You bastard," Sanji growled, his voice cracking. "The hell do you think you're doing?"

"I didn't know you were here," Zoro said quickly. "I heard you coughing in your sleep and it freaked me out. I thought I was alone."

"No. I'm here." He coughed. "You still sick as a dog?"

"Pretty much." Zoro stepped into his own bunk and stretched out, wishing he had his coat now. Sanji noticed the swordsman shivering, so he tossed him one of his blankets. He was now pretty toasty himself so he moved to the floor and sat with his back against the wall.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

They sat there for a moment, with only the sound of the boat creaking on the waves to suppress their silence.

Zoro still couldn't decide whether he wanted to eat or not, but he needed to find something to say. "Oi. I'm hungry. You feel good enough to cook something?"

Sanji snorted contemptuously. "Yeah, right. And I'm sure you feel good enough to slash a bastard to pieces in a swordfight."

"If that bastard happened to be a shitty blond chef, I bet I would."

Sanji laughed. Damn that Zoro for always having a comeback. He was pretty dumb, but clever.

Zoro shifted uncomfortably. His eyes met Sanji's. "Where's the rest of the crew? They on the island?"

"I guess so. Who the hell knows? I'm actually kinda glad to have some alone time." Sanji, realizing what he said, shook his head. "Oh shit, that's not what I meant. Not with you. Just alone time… away from… fuck. Never mind. You know what I meant."

"Y—Yeah."

Well. Sanji was alone with the marimo, so. Might as well try to converse with the guy.

But nothing else.

'Cause shit, Zoro was so god-awfully obnoxious. Passively-aggressive. Urgh, that guy.

"You look pretty terrible," Zoro said softly. "Do you need me to get you something?"

"Get me… something?" Sanji blinked a couple times, and Zoro could almost see a slight blush bloom across the cook's cheeks. Probably because of his fever. Yeah, that's definitely why. Damn. It was strangely adorable. Zoro could feel his own cheeks flare a bit too.

Because of his fever. That's why.

"Yeeah… You know. Need a glass of water? Tissues?"

"Why are you being nice to me?" Sanji raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Ha, be my guest. I could use a glass of water."

Why was Zoro doing this? He was definitely out of his mind. Nevertheless, he went to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water, grabbing a banana for himself, and went back to the guys' room.

"Thanks," Sanji said quietly as Zoro handed him the glass. Zoro nodded and sat down on the ground near Sanji, peeling his banana and taking careful bites. Hopefully his stomach could hold it down.

Sanji set his water down and glanced at Zoro. Oh shit. The way that guy was eating his banana... Seductive in almost a humorous way. Not that Sanji was at all seduced by the swordsman, but for some reason, it was entertaining to be able to watch the guy up close. He'd never had the chance to really look at Zoro, to study the curves of his face or mentally inquire about his curious features.

Why was his hair green? And how was it so soft-looking? If anyone was to give zero shits about their appearance, it was Zoro, but how could Sanji deny it? Zoro always looked charming in a disheveled sort of way.

And what the hell had happened to his left eye? That thin scar running from above his brow down to his cheek… Wouldn't it be awfully shitty to be a half-blind swordsman? Somehow it was damned cute, though. Sorta like he was always making a winky face.

And his mouth. God, his mouth. Stop eating like that… Dammit…

"The hell are you staring at?" Zoro's voice made Sanji flinch.

"Wh-what?" Sanji stammered. "It's just that… you look so fucking stupid right now. When was the last time you brushed your hair, idiot marimo?"

"I never brush my hair. I don't need to."

"Well it looks stupid."

Zoro half-smiled at him. "Like I care, dumbass."

Sanji too often acted on impulse. He was always doing dumb things without thinking, so he had no excuse for his actions when his hand just reached out and patted down Zoro's hair.

His hand. On Zoro's hair.

Zoro just looked at him, almost like he was confused. Had the cook really touched his hair? "Hey. You messed it up." Zoro ruffled his messy green locks and, acquiring some kind of playful look, he leaned forward and swooped Sanji's bangs, catching a glimpse of the right side of his face.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" Sanji burst out, coughing and smoothing his hair down.

Zoro smiled a bit to himself. Anything he could do to get on that cook's nerves. And now he knew something else that bothered him: screwing with his precious side-swept hair.

"Don't think about touching my hair again," Sanji mumbled.

"You're not exactly invited to touch mine either."

They looked at each other for a moment, which was an unusual occurrence, considering Zoro rarely held eye contact with anyone, especially Sanji. Then Sanji broke into laughter, his throat raw from incessant coughing. His eyes were locked on Zoro's face. "You know what, Marimo? You're a pretty funny guy. You're—" He was cut off when he saw the look on Zoro's face. He knew the guy was feeling queasy when his skin began to match the color of his hair.

"Whoa, Zoro. Are you…"

"Shit."

The green-haired, green-faced man stood and walked stiffly toward the door. Despite how weak he felt, his pace quickened as he tried to make it to the bathroom. But his efforts were futile; the marimo, running across the deck, lunged for the side of the Sunny and hung over the railing.

Sanji's laughter augmented as he witnessed Zoro's panic. Ah, he shouldn't be laughing. That was mean. But still too damned funny.

The blond walked over to his sick nakama, finally feeling some pity for the guy. Though he didn't really want to come off as softhearted, Sanji, nonetheless, placed a hand gently on Zoro's back. "Hang in there, big guy," he said, rather condescendingly.

"Shut up," Zoro snapped, though his voice was still soft. Sanji was actually surprised that the swordsman hadn't resisted his touch. So the cook didn't take his hand away.

"It's okay. I know what it feels like. Sucks to be sick."

Zoro, face pale, looked up weary-eyed at Sanji. And crazily enough, he smiled. Just a little bit. Cutest smile Sanji had ever seen.

Yep, Zoro was cute.

Cute, cute, cute.

Even when he was sick over the edge of the boat, Marimo was fucking cute.