So there was just one thing Zoro wanted to know: WHY?
"Would you stop whining," Nami jerked on the leash again, dragging him forwards, "My god. You macho men are the biggest babies."
"You can't do this," Zoro snapped, choking a little, "Why are you doing this. Why am I letting you do this? I'm bigger than you!"
He abruptly rushed her, and picked her up by the waist. Then he snapped his collar for good measure. By swallowing. Because his throat muscles were just that glorious.
Nami, true to character, turned this setback into an opportunity. "You're right, these shoes were killing me. Carry me."
Zoro dropped her without ceremony. She landed in a crouch as a cat would, scowled, and went on glowering while he grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her in close, "Alright Nami, listen up: I am not your pet."
Nami laughed.
"Stop it!" Zoro hissed, and shook her a little. But only a little, because he didn't want to have to sit through another tirade on "domestic abuse" and his supposed misogyny. What a load of shit. "I will carry your shopping bags for you. I will guard you from thugs. I will help you intimidate vendors into lowering their prices. But I am not wearing a leash!"
Nami rolled her eyes, "You are so annoying when you're being sensitive."
Zoro tried not to explode, "I am not sensitive!"
"Would you have preferred the shock collar?" she asked innocently, her smile cruel and her eyes hot and god, sometimes he forgot how much he liked it when she was mean.