Pervert
Sanji locked eyes with the divine goddess, who waltzed her way into his humble kitchen. She paused and held the door handle for a moment before closing the door. Her dark brown eyes were filled with annoyance and frustration. She looked adorable when she was ticked off.
Eager to alleviate the celestial maiden with whatever that may be aggravating her, Sanji halted in his lunch preparation and launched into a flowery poem saturated with admiration and love. He swirled and leaped to her aid and landed in front of her, down on one knee. His hand covered his heart and his other hand offered out to her.
The ethereal angel stood still. Her hand came to rest on her hip and her eyebrow raised in speculation at the sight of him.
Hearts floating all around him, Sanji was in heaven. She looked lovely when she was contemplating. "Nami-swan! What do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he sang.
"Uh, I just need a quiet place to work," she replied slowly. She bought along a couple of her drawing tools and her notebook. "Chopper and Usopp are too noisy in the library."
"Those bastards! I'll kick them out of the library for you." Sanji made the motions to untie his apron when an outstretched hand stopped him.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't do that. Let me work in here for a while until lunch is ready."
Happiness erupted from his chest like a volcano. Nami-san wanted to work in the kitchen! She wanted to hang out with him! He shook his fists above his head, silently screaming his thanks to the gods. Then he relaxed and exclaimed, "Of course! You're always welcomed here." He stared lovingly at her with hearts in his eyes. She looked beautiful today. Her long hair was so bright and silky. It spilled over her shoulders and flowed behind her back. He couldn't help but trace her delicate neck and her slender shoulders. Her skin was smooth and flawless. His eyes started to rove further down to her chest where they lingered for an indefinite amount of time. She was wearing a bikini!
Suddenly he felt something warm drip over his mouth and chin.
"Sanji-kun, your nose is bleeding."
It took a moment for him to register what she said and then he sprang for a towel, wiping his face. He pinched his nose with his fingers and held the towel there until the bleeding subsided. He laughed sheepishly; his eyes focused back on her face.
She only shook her head and muttered, "Pervert," under her breath. She took a seat at the dining table and dove into her work, making it a point to ignore him.
He sighed depressingly, realizing what a fool he was. He didn't impress Nami-san one bit by ogling at her bosom. But it was so hard not to look at them, especially when she wore clothes that barely hid her physical appearance. They beckoned to him like sirens lulling hapless sailors or a moth to a flame.
Mentally he argued, why shouldn't he look? People admire pieces of art in museums. They travel great distances to view masterpieces. When something is exquisite and excels in form and function, people should look. And Nami-san was certainly exquisite, perfect in every shape and size from her head down to her toes. It would be a crime if he didn't look.
With his resolve clearly established, he continued to look at her, but more discreetly than before. After all, he considered himself a gentleman.
The afternoon went by slowly with Sanji stealing glances here and there. He still busied himself with lunch. Like a symphony conductor, he had complete control of his kitchen with the boiling pots, sizzling pans and baking trays. And among the chaos, he heard Nami-san's melodious voice.
"Sanji-kun, could I get a drink? It's rather hot in here." She closed her notebook and stretched out her arms. That last action immediately caught Sanji's attention.
"Right away, Nami-san." He scrambled for a tall glass and whipped up a delectable fruit smoothie for her in minutes. He set it before her and added a straw for her convenience.
"Thank you," she said sweetly. She took a long sip from the straw. "It tastes good."
"Anything for you!" He beamed at her. He returned to the giant oven to check on the peach cobbler. It was done. As he pulled it from the oven, he heard Nami-san's voice again. This time it sounded a lot closer than before.
"That smells really good."
Startled, Sanji nearly dropped the pie. "Na-Nami-san," he sputtered. He peered up and discovered her by the counter. She had brought along her smoothie and had taken a seat on the tall stool. For some unfathomable reason, he found her grin worrisome. It almost seemed...predatory.
"Could you make me another drink? Something different?" she asked innocently enough.
The way she was sitting, her head propped up by her hands, leaning forward against the counter, his mind was screaming at him not to stare at her chest. Eyes on her face, eyes on her face, eyes on her face! He panted, struggling to stand upright. "What would like you?"
"How about ice tea? I don't want to ruin my appetite with something heavy."
"Ice tea?" Sanji calmed down. That was easy to make. He took her empty glass and placed it in the sink. She had finished the smoothie so fast; it surprised him. He got out another glass from the cabinet and made her drink in a few seconds.
"Could I also get a sprinkle of lemon juice in it please?"
"Lemon? No problem." He put in the combination to the lock and opened the refrigerator. That was strange. He was sure he had saved a bowl of lemons from yesterday.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing, Nami-san," he murmured. He rearranged the food containers, searching for the lemons.
"Try the bottom shelf," she suggested. "I think I saw them down there."
"Ah." Sanji bent down, moving deeper into the refrigerator. Still no sign of the lemons. "I'm sorry, Nami-san. I can't find the lemons." He stood up and turned. He was confused to find her sitting with her back to him, her legs crossed, already sipping her ice tea. Her face appeared a little flushed.
It must be hot in here, he reasoned. He went to open the windows to let in some cool air.
"That's okay. This is good enough."
Sanji continued with lunch, turning off the stove top and letting the food cool. Every so often he peeked over to her to see what she was doing. Of course now that he had a better and closer view, he couldn't help but admire those long slim legs of hers. He had to thank the gods again. Instead of her usual long pants, she was wearing shorts.
"Sanji-kun."
He snapped alert. He hoped she didn't notice him ogling at her again. "Yes, Nami-san."
"Could you do a tiny favor for me?" She batted her pretty eyelashes and smiled seductively at him.
"Anything!" he breathed excitedly.
"Strip for me."
He opened his mouth only to close it. He blinked in confusion. "Strip what?"
She sighed and dropped her head down. Slowly and carefully she enunciated her request. "I want you to strip your clothes off for me." She smiled again.
His eyes widened. Strip his clothes? What did this mean? At that moment, getting his brain to work was hard. He didn't understand her request. Maybe she was tired of his perverted looks and this was her way of teaching him a lesson. Maybe she didn't like his clothes, but he pushed that possibility away. He was dressed impeccably today. Maybe she was...
Then it clicked. His Nami-san was having naughty thoughts about him! "Does this mean you've fallen in love with me?"
"No," she answered bluntly.
The kitchen took up a dreary atmosphere. His heart fell and he wanted to cry.
"If you don't want to do it, that's all right with me." She took another sip from her ice tea and then gave him a bored expression. "It's nothing important."
"No, no, no, no, no," Sanji babbled, waving his hands. "If you want me to strip, I'll strip." He realized he was panicking and he looked to the main entrance, wondering if anybody was coming in anytime soon. "Do you want me to strip now?"
She grinned and nodded her head.
Nervously he untied his apron and placed it on the counter. His hands hesitated when he reached for his necktie. He glanced over to Nami-san to see her watching and waiting. She was serious about him stripping. He gulped and summoned all his courage to continue. Off came his necktie and then he started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Slowly," she instructed. "Take your time."
His cheeks heated from her comment, but he complied and slowly slipped off his shirt. He added his shirt to the small pile of clothing forming on the counter. Shirtless, he felt extremely self-conscious, dying of embarrassment really. He couldn't meet her scrutiny. Did she mean him to strip everything? He shucked his shoes to the side. When he was about to grab his belt buckle, something flew through the air and hit his head. He caught his apron as it dropped into his hands.
"You can stop."
"Stop?" he murmured. He was stunned. Did he do something wrong?
"Yeah, go ahead and put on your clothes." She jumped off stool and sauntered back to the dining table to collect her drawing tools and notebook. "You need to finish preparing lunch, don't you."
Sanji was devastated and speechless. Nami-san was leaving the galley. She was leaving him. A pitiful and dismal thought occurred to him, the reason for her abrupt departure, and it shamed him to no end. Anybody with any braincell could see. He was a terrible stripper!
Not a man to take defeat easily, he swore to himself he would practice, practice everyday if he must, to become the best damn stripper Nami-san had ever seen. So if the opportunity ever arise and she ask him to strip again, she won't be disappointed.
Ready slink back to work in the kitchen, he put on his shoes when he noticed his shirt was missing. His necktie was where he left it, but his shirt was gone. He turned to ask Nami-san if she had seen it, but she had already disappeared.