Hey guys! This is just a pointless one-shot I wrote at 1AM. Don't expect anything great. You were warned.
Disclaimer: One Piece doesn't belong to me.
A/N: Just noticed all I've written up to now is Zosan. oh well.
Nami didn't – quite - know why she hadn't revealed her presence yet. Perhaps it was just she knew how this went: Sanji would start swooning over her, Zoro would make some snide remark, and they would be off fighting again. Or Zoro would call her a damn witch, Sanji would chivalrously leap to her defence, and they would bloody be off fighting again. She was thinking positive. If she just kept quiet, maybe they would just be themselves. She had always assumed they must fight less when it was just the two of them. Although she wouldn't put it past them to-no, think positive, positive! Those two morons would cut it out, they would put their heads together, and they would get them all out of this stupid town jail cell!
"You- f-ing- moron!" Sanji's usual implicit style was missing from his voice. Nami sensed he was wounded, but there was something more...
Oh, god. Please don't let them start again. Please don't let me have to move, she thought, worrying about her own injuries. Her wrist was bent at a strange angle, and there was a lump forming on her head. She hadn't exactly given up without a fight.
"What is it now, shitcook?" Zoro's usual deep cool was missing from his voice, and it was then Nami knew things were bad.
"How- did you get- that?" Sanji was practically choking out the words. It sounded like physical pain in his voice, but Nami knew him enough to catch the raw undertone of fury. Nami imagined his eyes following the same path hers had just minutes ago: first, automatically, to the scar on Zoro's chest, because of the laboured breathing. Then down, because he had been left free to stand up, but was on his knees. Finally, noticing the insistent drip, drip and the direction it came from, to the swordsman's right arm. From her position in a shadowy corner, Nami had only been able to make out a slightly darker path running down his limb. Sanji, standing right next to Zoro, could probably see the wound in all of its gory detail.
"I thought you saw? Oh that's right; you were too... busy being unconscious."
For once, Sanji didn't rise to the bait.
"Your goddamn arm is sliced open down the goddamn middle. All I know is there was some machete idiot yelling and coming at me, and you were right there behind me, and then I was out cold. For your worthless sake, marimo, I hope what I'm thinking isn't true."
"If you're thinking... I saved your... your sorry ass, then... it is. You owe... me one now, idiot."
"You dumbass! This isn't about owing you one! This isn't about your stupid pride or whatever! Who told you I needed saving? Who told you to get cut up because of me, dammit!" the pitch of Sanji's voice was rising slightly. "I could've dealt with a single villager myself! And why the hell did you have to knock me out?"
" I have no doubt... aho, that even.. you could... deal... with one... knife- swinging guy ...yourself. But there was... twenty around you, and ...you weren't... seeing this one... coming, and Luffy would... kill me... if I let his... precious chef get... hurt. Besides- you'd just get... all riled up... if I'd ...picked you up... and carried... you away... conscious."
Nami wasn't feeling as frustrated as she should be. Not even close. The door remained as closed as it had been a few minutes ago, and the townspeople must have called the marines by now. Her two pigheaded nakama had managed to start a petty argument, despite their situation and their injuries. Zoro sounded as if he would gasp out a pint of blood with each word, and the rattling pauses in his speech were becoming increasingly more frequent. And yet she felt as if those two were somehow working towards something.
I must have banged my head harder than I thought.
"So now you're saying you whacked me unconscious for my own good or something? And why did you have to go and take the hit for me anyway? You have three bloody swords, marimo, weren't you able to block with even one of them?" Now it was Sanji's volume that was rising. At least it blocked out the sound of Zoro's blood dripping on the floor. Nami wondered if the cook was thinking the same thing. His tone softened as he added:
"And- and why should you care, anyway?"
"Because." Zoro replied.
Nami wondered if it was this that made the cook say "oh", or- she had heard a slight rustle of clothes as Zoro shifted. She couldn't quite se his movements in the gloom, but whatever he had said (or done) worked. She sensed that implicit understanding between the two men- one which they only reached in crucial moments. It had happened in Arlong park, when they had almost unconsciously had each other's backs. It had happened in Thriller Bark, when Zoro hadn't let Sanji die for Luffy, and afterwards Sanji had slipped quietly off to carry Zoro back. And it had happened in the Davy back fight, for a very unforgettable ten minutes. Nami decided to start counting the seconds until those two bust her out. At a hundred beli each per second.
"Fine. Let's get... out of here ...now... and show these... bastards."
"Yeah." Sanji was almost growling. "And, Zoro...
"Yes?"
"When you recover, I am going to kick your moronic ass all the way to hell. If you die from blood loss, I swear I will drag you to the world of the living, only to kick your ass all the way back to hell. Understood?"
Nami could practically see Zoro's signature demonic grin as he answered:
"Let's just go, cook."
Nami heard no more words from then, apart from a brief:
"Armeé de L'air Power Shoot!"
Yes, those two could really get their act straight when it mattered. Smirking, cradling her right arm, she sneaked out of the prison to a background of terrified screams and crashes.