Caught With His Pants Down

By Dixxy Mouri

Prologue

It should be noted that the man known as Black Leg Sanji (Bounty: 77 million alive, 53 million, 900 thousand dead) is a man of many passions. His primary passions are food and the enigmatic All Blue, but excluding those two his heart sings the loudest for the fairer sex: women. Tall women, short women, red heads, blondes, brunettes, leggy, busty, all sorts of women. He loved to flirt with them, to cook for them, to make them cry out in the intimate pleasures of the night . . . yes, Sanji loved women.

But there was one particular woman that was different. She was sexy and charming like many of the other women whom Sanji had shared a bed with, but this one was unique. She may have been a bit more than he bargained for, and perhaps it was only fair that Sanji was a bit more than she bargained for in return.

Thanks to a mishap involving Luffy and Usopp playing some stupid game in Sanji's kitchen, the major appliances were temporarily out of order and even though Franky was working as quickly as possible to fix the kitchen, it was going to be a couple of days before the room was usable again and about a week before the swelling on the captain and sniper's faces ceased.

So they'd gone to a local tavern for dinner after having cold cereal and fruit for breakfast and cold ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch. The food was good – but not as good as Sanji's – and shortly after dinner was served there was music and dancing, which. Nami saw it as an opportunity to pick the pockets of the unsuspecting dancers, while Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper decided to act like the morons they were as they danced off beat and attracted a few sour stares. Franky asked Robin to dance, blushing as the woman offered her hand.

Sanji found himself on the dance floor soon enough, looking for a lady to woo and dance with. For the most part the women already seemed to have dance partners already – their husbands or boyfriends, he guessed. Not a whole lot of single girls, aside from Nami-san, and she wasn't interested in dancing, though he had asked.

"Not tonight, Sanji-kun," she had politely declined.

The cook sighed in defeat, feeling like an idiot standing there alone on the dance floor. He was alone without a single girl in sight – as usual. He groaned in frustration as he moved through the dancers, envious of every man there. Half of them were probably going to get laid when they brought their girls home. Best he was going to get was some quality time with a bottle of lotion and a dirty magazine.

How long had it been since he'd gotten laid? Maybe . . . no, he was certain it was the night before he'd met Luffy. Sanji scoffed – that meant it really HAD been a long time. He could still remember the last girl. She'd been the last customer that night at the Baratie and while Patty was busy trying to get her to go (or order a dessert instead of just sitting there doing nothing ) she and Sanji had started to talk and the next thing he knew she was in his cabin, riding him like a horse. She'd stayed for breakfast, left, and then a canon ball crashed through the roof.

He might as well just go back to the table and sit with Zoro and Brook. Maybe Brook would let him tag along on a panty raid excursion (although as much as Sanji liked girls and everything to do with them, he wasn't as obsessed with panties as Brook was so the idea wasn't THAT exciting to him). He frowned. Tonight might not be that exciting after all.

Sanji slid his way through the dance floor, looking for someone to dance with. Taken, taken, taken, taken, ugly, taken, taken, lesbians, taken, taken, taken, might be a man, taken, taken, missing an arm, taken, taken, older than dirt, taken. He frowned, getting frustrated. Wasn't there anyone here he could dance with? The image of the lotion bottle loomed in his mind.

His eyes caught a glimpse of a woman in a corner with a glass of wine – alone. He turned to look at her. Hmm . . . not bad, he thought to himself. She looked to be about a dress size 4 with a double or triple D chest size – maybe an F. She had a full head of deep red hair piled high into a pony tail – much darker than Nami-san's – and thick, pouty lips painted with shiny ruby gloss. She was wearing a short white tube dress with a thick blue belt around her waist and shiny blue chunky platform heels.

Most importantly, she was alone and didn't appear to have a glass eye.

Sanji waltzed over to her, making sure his tie was on straight. He briefly checked his hair in a decorative mirror hanging on the wall. He grabbed a carnation from a vase on a nearby, unoccupied table and made sure it was neat. She turned enough to see him approaching her, and he slid into the empty seat across from her, presenting the flower to her. "Excuse me, my princess, but I couldn't help but notice you were here alone. Would you like some company?"

The girl crossed her legs and propped her chin into the palm of her hand, eying him in curiosity. "Oh? And who would this company be with?" She appeared to be evaluating him as she looked him up and down – possibly picturing him naked. He knew that look. God knew he looked at Nami-san and Robin-chan that way every day (although since the stupid shipwright had started seeing his raven haired flower he'd had to cut back on eying her significantly – he wasn't one to hit on a taken woman).

It was nice to have the gesture reciprocated.

"Me, your knight in a designer suit," he said.

"Where's your shining armor?"

"In the shop."

The girl took the flower and smelled it. "Carnations? A little cheap."

"Ah, but this carnation is special," Sanji said, taking her heads.

"How so?"

"Because you're the one holding it."

The girl giggled. "Either I'm a little tipsy or you're charming."

"Hmm. Must be the alcohol," Sanji said with a smirk.

The woman sighed, picking up her wine glass and swirling it around absently. Yeah. She was definitely interested. She batted her eyelashes at him, tapping her pinky nail against the glass as she took a sip. "So, let me guess – are you trying to pick me up, sugar?"
Sanji gripped his knees of his pants, hoping she didn't sense his defensive action. "Maybe," he said. "That depends – are you looking to be picked up, princess?" Inwardly he sighed – it was a long shot but it was worth a try – it had worked once before. But it had failed the other seventy-two times he'd tried it.

As it turned out, seventy-four was a lucky number for Sanji.

They'd talked for another half hour before the girl invited him back to her boat for "a drink", which, as Sanji knew from experience, meant "sexy exciting fun time". So they'd left the tavern and hurried to the dock, where they boarded her boat (a model designed to house roughly one to two full time passengers comfortably) and, as soon as they were in her cabin and the door was closed they'd started tearing at each other's clothing.

The girl backed Sanji towards her bed, kissing and gasping as she fumbled with the buttons of his jacket while he loosened his tie. His knees hit the bed and he was on his back, struggling out of his jacket as she pulled the tie up over his head, flicking his ears on the way up. "Slow down, princess, there's no rush! I'm all yours for the rest of the night!" Sanji said as she crawled on top of him and straddled his waist. He started to unbuckle her belt, eliciting a giggle and a finger running down his chest.

"I'm horny," she said, diving down to fumble with his shirt buttons. Sanji felt a "mellorine" escape from his lips as her tried to move his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. She sighed, biting on his lower lip. "It's been a while, baby. I've gone months without a decent tumble in the sheets. I'm an independent woman – I can't stand it!"

Sanji groaned as she undid his belt. "Same – too damn long." He grabbed her waist and gently flipped her over. She gasped, exaggerating her breathes so her chest heaved up and down under him. "Guess it's a good thing we found each other, huh?" She squealed with delight, fumbling with the top button of his pants. "Even better that I've found a gorgeous little vixen to keep me company."

"And I'm glad I found myself a young, limber stallion all to myself."

"Mellor-INE!"

Sometime later, the blond she'd picked up was sleeping soundly on her left, hugging one of her pillows and lying belly down on her sheets. His chest was slowly moving up and down as he breathed, the sheets just barely covering his naked ass. She grinned, walking her fingers up his spine. He shuddered in his sleep, mumbled something, and shifted his shoulders.

She didn't mind that he was going to spend the night. He'd mentioned he was a cook at some point so maybe she could get him to make her breakfast in the morning – see if he was as good in the kitchen as he was in bed.

After that, dear God she hoped so!

Most of the men she brought home (or who brought her home) would pass out after about five minutes of boring sex that resulted in her frustrated and them drooling on her good pillowcases. Once in a while they would buy her breakfast (especially if they were a little on the small side), oblivious at just how awful they had performed the night before, and she would give them a line about giving then a call if they had a Den Den Mushi or something else that really meant "you sucked leave me alone." Sure once in a while she found one who was a decent roll in the hay but they were few and far between. She made breakfast for those few souls.

However, this guy was different. He was more than just a "decent roll in the hay". He was fantastic with his hands – and his tongue – and didn't pass out until after three rounds with a cigarette break in between two and three. He was gentle but firm. Where the hell he got his stamina from she would never know but if he hadn't offered to make breakfast he would have gotten a stack of pancakes the size of his head.

Deciding she wasn't sleepy just yet and realizing she was behind on work, she slipped out of bed and grabbed the nearest article of clothing she could find – it just so happened to be her fling's silky lavender shirt. She slipped it on and smelled it – it smelled like cigarettes and seafood. She closed her eyes. There was a slight tinge of cologne as well – she dated a guy who wore that brand once.

She put his hands on her hips once she had the darn thing buttoned up and strutted to her desk, stepping over their shoes and a pile of laundry he had thankfully not noticed (although he seemed hormonal enough that she wasn't sure he'd really care by the time they got to her bedroom). She yawned – she was so behind!

Being a bounty hunter was hard work – it wasn't like criminals just fell into her lap!

She started to hum to herself as she began to flip through the stack of wanted posters on her desk. She'd been so busy chasing that last one (only to have two idiots from East Blue catch him before her – bastards had linked arms and started yelling "Hurray hurray!" before started to dance in circles) that she hadn't bothered to look at some of the new posters that came in during the recent weeks.

There were some Emperors and their crewmates on the top of the stack – way out of her league, into the garbage they went. She wasn't that good yet – no way. Still, it was awfully fun to dream about bringing down Red Haired Shanks or Whitebeard and cashing in that paycheck. She moaned at the thought – that would set her for life! Mostly she was satisfied with bounties around 15 million or less – someone like Shanks or Whitebeard would be worth far more than that but, well, leave it to the more experienced ones.

The man in her bed chuckled about something in his sleep. She turned back and smiled.

The next few entries were current crews of interest. Trafalger Law and his crew of current interest in the area, but way out of her league – as was Scratchman Apoo and his men. She grunted in frustration. Everything was over her head! She couldn't go after any of the big bounties unless she had more experience! It was a horrible cycle!

Biting her bottom lip, she looked at the next stack – the Straw Hat Pirates. She whimpered – the captain was worth 300 million alone. Into the garbage it went. Roronoa Zoro? Bah. 120 million. Not much better. She crumpled it up – his poster could join his captain's poster. She fumed when she saw the Demon Child, Nico Robin, had been raised to 80 million. And into the garbage that one went. Next was Black Leg Sanji, 77 million. And into the –

Wait, what?

She did a double take. She raised an eyebrow and scratched her head, crossing her legs. Blond hair . . . just like the guy in her bed, and styled the same way, too. Cigarette . . . he had smoked a couple in-between the sex, and his shirt did smell like cigarettes. Chin stubble . . . it had tickled her when he'd kissed her and done . . . other things. And the eyebrow . . .

She almost fell out of her chair as she stared at the poster in terror.

No way!

She turned her head to the man in her bed. She'd never gotten his name, and she hadn't given her his. She swallowed, got up, and tip-toed over to the sleeping body. He was still asleep, breathing softly and deeply. He was smiling in his sleep, stilling hugging her pillow. She bent down to look at him. It certainly looked like this man might be Black Leg Sanji . . .

Well . . .

"Sanji?" she asked softly.

The man shifted a little, barely opening his eyes. "Yeah? You need something, sugar lips?"

Her heart froze. So it is him. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Black Leg Sanji closed his eyes and sighed, turning over and seemingly going back to sleep right away. She slid to the floor, relieved. If he'd stayed awake too long he might have noticed she'd called him by his name when he'd not once offered it to her before. What did she do next? She wouldn't get another opportunity like this! 77 million berries lying helpless in her bed . . .

She had to work quickly!

Author's Notes

I 100% promise this fic will NOT contain Sanji and the bounty hunter in a romantic relationship. This is not going to be the bounty hunter decides she's suddenly madly in love with Sanji and decides to release him as a token of her affection or something like that.

I have other plans in mind.

Basically, I'm sure you've all seen something along the lines of Sanji getting kidnapped where he is promptly manhandled, raped, molested, ect. This is not one of those stories. So, I hope you enjoy this little experiment in fanfiction!

Dixxy