Hey guys!

I know this isn't Crocodile Hunter chapter 4, but that is almost done.

This fic is going to be mainly SanjixZoro since that is my absolute favorite pairing, but ZoSan will definitely be in it. (In addition to some of my other favorites...)

This was inspired by my obsession with Sanji's Japanese V.A. Hiroaki Hirata, and a character song he did called Sanji the Great Blue-Dessert wa Kimi

After listening to it the first time last week, I immediately thought of this and had to write it down.

I hope you like it!


Chapter One: Smoking Hot

The dim lighting in the floating restaurant's lounge did wonders for the atmosphere; the candlelit tables casting a warm, sensuous glow on the patrons that sat enjoying the famously marvelous food of the renowned Baratie.

Among the couples that seemed to populate the late night crowd was a lone man who sat at the back of the room enjoying the scene. His abnormal green hair took on a darker color in the muted lighting and did not draw much attention from the other guests. Though it was his first time visiting here, Zoro had to give the creators of the touristy dinner boat some credit, they knew how to draw a crowd. Someone in the small band onstage played a mean jazz piano, but with their form obscured in the low light he had a hard time telling who it could be.

Zoro's friends Nami and Luffy had recommended the restaurant to him, having gone on several dates there before. He had heard of the typically rowdy restaurant through his work with the local law enforcement and they knew that he preferred more out of the way, quiet places; but this one had such a calm vibe in the evening Nami had insisted he would love it. Apparently their mutual friend Ussop was friends with one of the staff, a chef who was somehow related to the owner. Whoever this 'Sanji' guy was, he hoped to make friends with him as well if he could cook on the scale of the meal he had just eaten. A guy who knew his way around a kitchen was a total turn-on, especially if he was as good-looking as the red-head had insinuated.

Overall, he could tell why the woman loved this place, the food was spectacular and it was definitely suited for someone with expensive taste like Nami. She was lucky that she could afford this kind of upscale lifestyle even if Luffy's family wasn't loaded, being one of the best meteorologists in the world. He wasn't a slouch either, as he was relatively successful in his career as a detective. The meal had definitely been worth the visit and, despite the price, had proven to be the best food he had possibly ever eaten. He swirled his glass and downed the remnants of the alcohol that remained, grabbing his waiter moments later to request a glass of water; he knew he could handle his liquor, but he still knew the risks of driving home under the influence. With the ship back in harbor and closing time was drawing near, the tables began to empty while he nursed his water, though the band continued to play despite the dwindling crowd. He began to notice a few of the customers lingering as he was, but they had a sense of anticipation about them, like something special were about to occur. Soon his check came, but the voice of the person who delivered it drew him from his thoughts about what it could be.

"Thank you for your patronage," said the accented, velvety baritone that sent a shiver involuntarily down his spine.

He tore his gaze from the stage to the new face and felt a wave of shock dash through him. This guy had to be one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen. He wore a pressed black suit that hugged his frame perfectly, the pinstriped shirt that poked out of the jacket a soft fuchsia which had a fine silk ebony tie threaded around the collar. The soft blonde hair that poured down across his face just so, the one sparkling blue eye that peaked out from the heavy lid, the full oh-so-kissable lips that held a cigarette that he was pretty sure shouldn't be allowed inside the dining area but filled out the image just perfectly. It was as if someone had taken all his secret favorite features from his fantasies and walked them over to his table. Zoro was focused on the scruffy goatee the man sported when the blonde quirked a curiously curled eyebrow at him.

And now he was walking away. Wait, where the hell was he going?!

As Zoro watched speechlessly, he took in the slight sway of the thin hips and found a new appreciation for well-tailored suits. From what the tight slacks told him, the blonde had the ass and legs of a god. The man crossed the room silently, but his appearance caused a stir in the room. The remaining patrons seemed to sit a little straighter, as if they had been expecting this man to show up. Zoro looked on in confusion as he took the stage, going quietly to the single microphone that stood toward the front which had seemed lonely in its spotlight up until now.

He half expected the enchanting man to announce the close of the establishment, but the queuing up of the band for a new song suggested something that made his heart flutter. As if answering his silent question, the blonde leveled a weighty gaze at him from across the room as the piano plucked out the first few notes of a sultry melody and seemed to smirk at his dumbfounded expression. The anticipation that filled the room in those few moments didn't even register in his mind as the man took the cigarette from between his lips and breathed out the first smoky lyrics:

"Take my hand honey~ welcome to my romantic dinner. Be happy honey, just take it easy and relax…" he reached a hand out to the crowd, and Zoro could swear the man was staring directly in his eyes as he sweetly sang. "Taste my main dish, but don't forget-" the green-haired man shivered in his seat as the blue eye winked at him, "…your dessert~"

The innuendo and flirtatious wink did a number on Zoro's pulse. He sat in frozen captivation as the band and the blonde continued, the lilting saxophone and snappy piano filling out the beautiful voice that ensnared his senses. He had never experienced tunnel vision anywhere but on the mat in his kendo dojo, but his focus on the seductive singer made him feel as if he had been challenged to a duel. His challenger gripped the microphone with one hand as he danced lazily in place while the sax player and bass had their way with a duet behind him. With the song drawing to a close, the music slowed and he took the mic off the stand, the wireless device allowing him to wander offstage.

The blonde waltzed slowly through the crowd, his presence causing several of the female patrons to become visibly flustered while he swept past them. He moved at a languid pace toward the last table before he entered the kitchen doors to Zoro's right, effectively drawing the spotlight and attention to his little corner of the restaurant. Instead of feeling irritation at the sudden intrusion, he felt hot as the singer ghosted past him, his teeth barely showing as his plush lips were pulled into a confident smirk.

The song dwindled to a close as he repeated the end to the opening lyrics in the same deep, sexy baritone, "-don't forget your dessert…" He raised his baby blues to meet the green-haired man's obsidian orbs and held the contact so intensely that Zoro felt as if he had been hit by a wave that gushed forth from the oceanic eyes. The connection was severed all too quickly as the well-dressed crooner passed into the kitchen entrance beside him, the whirlwind of his appearance and disappearance leaving the detective breathless.

He didn't recover from the shock until he realized that the rest of the restaurant had emptied and the busboys had come out to clean up. His fuzzy brain registered the band packing up their instruments and the looks from the remaining staff as it slowly occurred to him that he should probably vacate the premises. He looked around for his waiter after placing his credit card in the leather folder containing his bill that the intriguing singer had left in front of him. After a few minutes of awkward waiting a busboy came to his table to retrieve his dishes, and he asked the young man where to take his check.

"The wait staff always goes home when the last song plays, since most people have finished before he sings," the confused boy said, obviously startled that a patron had been forgotten.

Before Zoro got a chance to ask exactly who he was, the scent of smoke struck him and he turned as a deep chuckle came from behind.

"Don't worry about it, kid, I've got this one covered. Go ahead and take those to the wash."

As Zoro turned to face the source of the interruption something within him stirred as he once again met the gaze of the mystery singer.

The young man that had picked up his plates nodded quickly and mumbled, "Right away, Mr. Sanji…"

Sanji? Why did that name seem familiar? He was hazy in more ways than one.

Zoro stood and faced the man that had affected him so fully with his mere presence, not wanting to allow himself to be overwhelmed any longer.

"So I suppose Nami-san sent you?" the blonde offered, allowing his voice a certain sickening fondness to the red-head's name.

The curious use of a Japanese honorific and the mention of his friend snapped Zoro completely out of whatever spell he had been under.

"Yeah, I suppose Nami-san told me 'bout this place," he replied mockingly. "Said Ussop had a buddy on the staff, but I thought you were a cook?"

"One of the best damn cooks there is! That shitty old man couldn't run this hovel without me. I just provide a little extra entertainment when it's slow enough to let the kitchen shut down early."

Sanji seemed to be a little miffed about the insinuation that he was just on the payroll as a performer and Zoro's mocking tone. The green-haired man was a little taken aback by the course language the blonde had used, expecting him to have act a little more sophisticated. If anything, this made the charming man more interesting and now Zoro wouldn't have to worry about offending him with his own behavior.

"So are you the manager or something? That kid looked like he was about to piss his pants."

Sanji took a long drag from his cigarette while he moved to Zoro's table, picking up the bill and motioning the other man to follow. It took most of the man's willpower to pay attention to where he was going and not to the fine piece of ass that was sashaying about right in front of him. Despite his efforts, he failed to notice the blonde look at him over his shoulder and release a thin trail of smoke from between his smirking lips.

He brought Zoro to the counter and began to ring him up in silence and only looked the man in the eye when he pushed the receipt forward for him to sign.

"I'm actually head chef now, since the old man finally decided to put a leg up and just oversee things. But, in reality I'm also the manager, yes."

"Well aren't you special?" Zoro teased.

He glanced down at the paper that had been shoved across the counter as he reached for the pen. Hold on…

"Oi, Cook. You sure this is alright?" He motioned to the total, which was significantly lower than what it, by all rights, should have been.

"If Nami-san felt someone as obviously unrefined as yourself deserved to come here, I'm just going to charge you for the quality part of the meal. Call it a discount if you want, but I don't think you should be paying for what some of those other shit-bird chefs back there call food," he huffed, little wisps of smoke escaping as he spoke. "You did make some good choices, though. I don't get to make ratatouille very often and I had to rescue it from one of the new guys earlier, so you at least made the evening interesting."

Zoro bristled a bit at the unrefined comment, but ignored it momentarily as he realized, "You made that? That was the only ratatouille I've had since I was little that tasted authentic!"

While the entire meal had been soul-melting, the simple French dish reminded him of the sweet elderly woman who had lived down the road from the dojo he had grown up in. He had never experienced anything other than Japanese cuisine before she asked him to help her around the house, so he had been pleasantly surprised when the foreigner decided to make a meal unlike anything he'd ever tasted for him as thanks.

"You want authentic French? Wait until you try my Daube de Boeuf. It's a type of stew made with beef, but it's also a great lamb dish," the chef's enthusiasm looked as if it had doubled at the mention of food. "I'm also quite skilled with Japanese cuisine, if you'd prefer."

Sanji must have picked up on his origin, despite his strange hair color and overall lack of an accent, just as Zoro had pegged him for a European immigrant from the slip when the blonde first spoke to him.

"You've been to Japan I take it?"

"Spent two years studying at a traditional joint in Kyoto, but had to come back to Hawaii when the old man decided to hang up his hat."

"So is this 'old man' your pops?"

"Well, no, not technically…" Sanji ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck. "Zeff raised me here after I lost my parents, though."

Zoro sensed that the blonde was holding back more than a few details, but he left it.

"Ah, I'm in the same boat. My sensei raised me in the dojo, now I don't remember my parents at all."

He smiled warmly at the enchanting stranger, not really knowing why he shared so much about himself, but wanting to dispel the embarrassment the other man had expressed while telling his own background. He had only really told Luffy about his life before coming to the States a while back at some bar he'd been dragged to over on Oahu.

"I'm Zoro, by the way, Roronoa Zoro," he said, pronouncing his name in his native dialect and extending the hand with his signed receipt over the counter.

Sanji raised a curled eyebrow, but took the hand into his and turned it just enough to lay a chaste kiss on the back of the detective's knuckles while glancing up at the rapidly flaming face through the heavy lashes of his visible eye.

"Enchanté, Zoro-kun, je suis Sanji Noir."

As the sultry blonde removed the paper from his grip, Zoro felt his simmering gaze all the way to his bones. The blonde's blatant attempt at flirting coupled with the evening's previous events prompted the green-haired man to do one more uncharacteristic thing. He quickly scribbled on his copy of the bill and ripped off the written portion.

"If you ever get time to yourself, Mr. Manager, maybe you could give me a ring," he smiled, laying his number down in front of the intrigued chef.

He turned to leave and was almost out the door when his phone played a few jazzy notes. He paused as the door closed behind him to check the text, smirking at the unknown number.

"Au revoir…"

Tapping "Save to Contacts" and entering the new information with one hand, he waved his other over his shoulder to the cocky blonde.

Inside the empty restaurant, Sanji watched the last customer of the day wander off onto the pier and smiled as his phone vibrated briefly in his hand.

"I'm looking forward to the stew, Cook. またね"

"See you soon, huh?" he thought as he blew out a cloud of nicotine heaven, grateful that his Japanese hadn't gotten rusty. "Maybe we will, Monsieur Marimo."

He laughed to himself at the fitting nickname as he locked up for the night.


-October 13, 2012-

So this will have more chapters later that will earn the 'M'

Thank you for reading!

As always, you can find me on Tumblr under xiggymatsu (or just search the tag Beautiful Baby Blues and I should pop up)

This is my oldest and most favorite pairing, so I've been nervous about writing one for it, but I really liked this idea and it sorta just flowed outta me.

I also have several other drafts started for my pairings:

One more AU SanZoSan (this one is a SciFi that occurs in space)

an AU LawxKidd

an IcebergxFranky + FrankyxRobin + IcebergxPaulie that happens in the OP world

a SanUso that's sorta on suspension 'til I figure out what I want to do with the story

and a School AU that will be mostly DoflaCroc but will feature several other pairings