Chapter Three
Sanji lies on the dirty mattress, stretching his legs behind him, trying to ignore the throbbing in his feet and ankles. They're bruised and swollen from his kicking and chain rattling. The most comfortable position he's found is sprawled out on his stomach since his hands are cuffed behind him. He has no way of telling time but it feels like it's been several hours since his earlier attempts at catching anyone's attention. The footsteps above were pretty active until a little while ago. Now he just lays in silence, only the sounds of the building creaking and the grumbles of his stomach to keep him company.
Sighing, he closes his eyes and concentrates on anything except the gnawing in his gut. He was hungry when he'd left work that night, planning on making dinner when he got home. Obviously that never happened since he's been trapped in this basement. Experience has taught him fortitude with hunger but it's miserable all the same.
Sanji opens his eyes and tilts his head up. Scraping sounds are heard above, like a chair being pushed away from a table. Heavy footsteps follow, a lazy series of thumps, distinctly different from the earlier tapping. Before it sounded like someone who moved jovially, more like a prance. Whoever this is, they move with purpose. Mostly likely the Green Bastard.
Rolling onto his side, he manages to sit himself up, wanting to listen closer to the sounds above him. He watches the dark ceiling and follows the thuds of the steps, first fading away and then descending, like someone coming downstairs.
Eyes alert on the entryway, he prays that there's any chance of it being someone for rescue. Deep inside he knows the odds are slim but he still hopes, holding his breath, as the door swings open. Disappointed, he exhales – almost in a snort – as his captor walks into the room. He has a stack of blankets and a pillow tucked under arm. Oddly enough, he leaves the door open a crack, which is something Sanji hasn't noticed him do before.
The man sets his belongings down by the mattress. Sanji glimpses his face and immediately his stomach howls in protest, as he realizes that asshole has what appears to be a stick of pepperoni or sausage gripped between his teeth. If his mouth didn't have a rag shoved in it, he'd be drooling right now.
Kneeling next to Sanji, the spice of the pepperoni wafts stronger and causes his stomach to whine. If the other man noticed, there's no indication, as he reaches over and tugs the rag out of Sanji's mouth. This time the man is equipped for his coughs, water bottle in hand and ready to pour. Sanji slurps down the water greedily, more energized with each gulp. When he's finished, he nods his head and the bottle is removed and set down beside his bed.
"Thanks." He hates that he's thanking a man who has him tied up, but he doesn't want to seem ungracious. The guy doesn't have to bring him water or hell, didn't even have to untie him from that chair. Given the fact that he could be dead right now, he's truly grateful for what he has.
The man nods in response and stands to leave. Now completely capable of drooling, Sanji watches in agony as he finishes off his snack, oblivious to the fact that Sanji's stomach feels like it's eating his backbone.
"Hey," Sanji calls out, resolving to test his luck.
The man turns his head and looks in his direction.
"Hey, uh, could I maybe have something to eat?" Sanji gulps, crossing his fingers behind him that this will work.
Without word, Green Bastard trudges out of the room but doesn't close the door. Sanji can hear his footsteps ascend to the main floor and tread across the building to an area that's close to above where he's sitting. A few minutes later the sounds of the man's return can be heard descending towards the door and he pops back into the cellar. Sanji spies a sandwich wrapped in a napkin in his hand.
Setting the meal on the floor next to the water bottle from earlier, his captor turns to walk away before Sanji halts him, "Wait! How am I supposed to eat this?"
The man twists back with a frown, before realizing what Sanji means. His hands are cuffed behind his back. There's no way he can feed himself. He'll either have to get a hand free or the Green Bastard will have to feed him. Judging the annoyance on his face, Sanji assumes he doesn't like that option either.
With an aggravated huff, the man returns to his workstation and starts searching through his drawers. Sanji's heart starts pounding as he hears the jingle of keys. This is the opportunity he's been waiting for. Once his handcuffs are off, if he acts quickly enough, he may have a chance at overpowering the guy.
Desperately, he searches the room while the man's back is turned. There's nothing within reach that could be used as a weapon. Now more than ever he wishes he were abducted while wearing shoes. Sanji settles on waiting for the perfect moment to kick the Green Bastard. He might even be able to use the chain to his advantage and try to position it around the man's throat. No matter what, he has to try.
The man is back by his bed, eyeing Sanji up and down, also studying the situation. He squats next to the mattress and delivers a mean glare, emanating an intense aura similar to when he almost killed Sanji.
"Legs straight out front."
Sanji balks, wondering what the plan could be. He needs his legs in order to pull off any escape attempt. His hesitation is noticed, his captor's frown deepening. Not wanting to risk him changing his mind, Sanji quickly complies.
With a sharp nod, Green Bastard kneels on the edge of the mattress and crawls over Sanji, firmly sitting on his legs, about halfway up his thighs.
"You motherfu-" Sanji bites his tongue. If he wants to make it out alive, he really needs to watch his mouth.
"Think I'd give you the chance to kick me?" the bastard snickers, apparently proud of his foresight. "Can tell your legs are strong."
Sanji's blood boils – sick and tired of taking this guy's shit. He has no idea who he is or why he's locked Sanji up other than the creep thinking he has something to do with some shitty crime he didn't commit. Now he's blocking any likely chance of Sanji getting away. Asshole.
Their bodies are close and Sanji can feel heat and power radiating off the other man. Knees still firmly planted on either side of his legs, he leans over, his chest pressing against Sanji's shoulder, and fumbles with the cuffs on his wrists. A few breaths and then one wrist is freed, the other one still cuffed and clenched tightly in the man's grip.
Immediately Sanji balls his free hand into a fist, putting as much power as he can muster into his punch. Before it connects to the side of the shitty bastard's green head, a tan hand halts his swing.
"Nice try," the man smirks before swiftly bringing both hands together and cuffing them with the ease and experience of a seasoned police officer.
"Fuck you," Sanji snarls, his frustration breaking the filter he's kept on his mouth.
The crack of skin echoes against the walls and rings in Sanji's ears. His cheek ignites on fire as the force of a hard smack jerks his head so vigorously he feels his neck will snap. He peeks under his bang at the man positioned in his lap, hand still raised and face hardened into a deep-set scowl.
Wordlessly, he removes himself from Sanji's legs and sits on the damp floor by the mattress, glaring at Sanji the whole time.
"Eat," he commands, picking up the sandwich and shoving it into Sanji's hands.
Sanji nods slowly and bites into his sandwich. Although his face stings and his jaw feels bruised, he quickly swallows his meal, unsure of when his next one will be. Washing his ham and cheese down with the last of the water bottle, he briefly makes eye contact with Green Bastard, who continues sitting at his bedside.
Curiosity getting to the best of him, Sanji tentatively asks, "Why are you still here?"
The man shrugs, "Figured you didn't look the type to piss yourself. Gonna take you to the shitter." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black switchblade. "Don't make me have to use this."
Sanji's jaw drops, the pain of the earlier smack seeming like a distant memory. He's lucky the psycho bastard didn't slit his throat.
The man stands and picks up the used napkin and empty water bottle, walking across the room and setting them on the workbench. He also closes the door and locks it from the inside, doing what he can to prevent Sanji's escape. After he flashed that switchblade, however, Sanji knows he's not reckless enough to try to pull something again. He needs more cunning next time; simply overpowering this guy is not possible.
The man returns and unlocks the part of the leg cuffs attached to the wall, keeping Sanji's feet securely fastened. Between his bindings and the stiffness of his body, Sanji's not sure he can stand up. Scooting to the side of the mattress, he plants his socked feet firmly to the ground and hoists himself up, standing completely for the first time since he's arrived in the basement. His knees buckle slightly but he steadies himself, the stretching helping his stiff legs. The man has a hold of the other end of his chain and nods towards an entryway on the other side of the room.
Sanji shuffles over slowly, taking small steps due to the restrictive chains at his feet. Poking his head into the doorway he was motioned to, he's shocked to find an old toilet and sink set up in a tiny closet-sized space. The plumbing looks antiquated, the toilet not even having a proper handle on it but one of those pull-chains instead. Bizarre.
"Get to it," Green Bastard orders, shouldering him into the bathroom.
Sanji stands in front of the toilet awkwardly, unsure of how he's going to manage unbuttoning his pants and pissing, especially with an audience.
"Fuck it," he mutters, figuring he needs to try to go now before he ends up having to actually wet himself later. He's relieved to see the Green Bastard turn his back and give him a little privacy. With some fumbling, he manages to undo his pants and complete his business.
Within minutes, his pants are zipped, hands washed, and he's back to the mattress with the chain reattached to the wall. The man nods at the pillow and blankets on the ground before he takes his exit, turning off the light on the way out, leaving Sanji to lie in the dark.
"Where the dickens did you come from?!"
Zoro sighs and looks up from his newspaper. Mihawk stands in the break room doorway, coffee mug in hand and scowling. His glare is direct at Zoro's hair, which is a bit more disheveled than normal. Piercing eyes lower and narrow at the sight of a wrinkled shirt. Zoro knew he'd get shit for it but expected to at least be able to eat his breakfast in peace.
It was a rough morning, his typical routine thrown off by the fact that he had to take time to check on Sanji. This whole thing is becoming one giant pain in his ass.
"Was running late." Zoro returns to his newspaper and takes another bite of his banana ignoring Mihawk's continued scoffing.
"Yet you have time to sit around like a bored gorilla," Mihawk deadpans and crosses the room to fill up his coffee mug.
"Law ain't here yet," Zoro responds, hoping talking with his mouth full will make the bastard leave.
Seems to do the trick, as Mihawk turns on his heel and heads out the door, polished shoes click-clacking on the linoleum as he goes. Smug with himself, Zoro finishes off his banana and tosses the peel in the trash as he turns the page.
"Watch it!"
Usopp enters the room, barely managing to duck underneath Zoro's trash, juggling a pink box in his hands. Thrusting the box in Zoro's direction, he opens the lid to reveal two lines of sugary, glazed doughnuts.
"Too sweet," Zoro scrunches his nose as he pushes the box away, declining the offer. Usopp shrugs and closes the lid, setting the box down on the break room table.
"Heard about that case," he tries to say casually but curiosity is written all over his face, "You and Law worked hard on it."
"Don't know the details yet, Usopp. Waiting for Law."
As if summoned, Law shuffles into the room, red thermos in hand. All the free coffee in the world stuffed into the cabinets of the dinky break room and he brings his own from home every day.
"Mornin' Law! Want a doughnut?" Usopp excitedly opens his box and sticks it in Law's face, causing him to wince.
"No thanks, too sweet."
"You two spend too much time together," Usopp mutters before closing the lid to his box and waving goodbye.
Zoro tips his water bottle as farewell before taking a swig, calm settling in the room with Usopp's departure. Law continues his morning routine, dumping creamer into his thermos. Brings his own coffee, uses office creamer. They all stopped trying to figure him out a long time ago.
Done at the coffee station, Law turns to him and nods at the door. "Shall we?"
Zoro stands, folding his newspaper and leaving it on the table for someone else to read. They walk down the hall in silence, the shuffle and buzz of office work all around, phones ringing, group debriefings. The building houses several law enforcement teams, their floor in particular belonging to the Homicide Division. Mihawk is Sergeant to all of them but seems to take a special liking to him and Law. They can never tell if that's good or bad.
Turning into their small office, Zoro shuts the door and leans against it. Law sits on his desk, examining the tattoos on his hands.
"How?" Zoro asks.
"Don't know."
"Two eye-witnesses."
"He has money."
"Motherfucker," Zoro shoves off the door and walks to the middle of the small room, rubbing his temple, "Think he'll skip town?"
"No doubt, they always do." Law laughs bitterly, taking a sip of his coffee. "Two counts murder, one count rape."
"Not guilty on all three."
Zoro kicks the side of his desk, aggravation swelling from deep inside him. Sick fucks that can pay their ways out of convictions disgust him more than any of the others. Old money is dangerous and plentiful in their northern city. Bored rich kids growing into twisted adults, falling back on their fortune when they get caught being the depraved sons of bitches they are. This is exactly why he does what he does. Someone has to take out the trash when the system is so corrupt.
"Takes some balls to hand out a 'not guilty' when a victim testifies," Law muses, tattooed hands wrapped around his thermos. Zoro glances at his knuckles reading DEATH in bold, black lettering. He smirks knowing that's exactly the fate Crocodile will meet once Zoro gets his own hands on him.
"Got dinner plans?"
Zoro cocks an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic and sits on the edge of his desk, shaking his head.
"Luffy wants you to come out with us. I believe Nami and Usopp will also be there."
Zoro crosses his arms, staring at the carpet in front of him. He has shit to do - the Crocodile case, the blond in the basement…
"He told me to tell you he's 'cashing in.'"
Shit. That stupid fucking bet. Luffy has a tendency to gamble on stupid shit, like "I bet you can't chug a beer in under 30 seconds" or "I bet Usopp won't notice me put ice down his shirt." It's so ridiculous that no one can help getting sucked in. It's never for real money, usually small favors. Or bites of food. Zoro owes him a loss for betting that Chopper couldn't shotgun a beer. Little guy shocked them all. Luffy said he was going to wait for the "right moment" to use it.
Door bursting open, their conversation is interrupted, Mihawk appearing on the other side. Glancing between the two of them seated on top of their desks, he places his hands on his hips, his face dark but deadly calm.
"Well, men, are we having a picnic?"
They make eye contact before shaking their heads.
"Then get to work."
He needs a fucking cigarette.
Sanji continues prodding at his bindings, trying to find any way of getting them loose. He's been at it for hours, ever since Green Bastard left. He's pretty sure he's in a cellar under the guy's house; it's the only thing that makes sense given how often he seems to be around.
Frustrated, he drops the chain and runs his hands through his hair, tugging at blond strands. Nicotine withdrawal is a son of a bitch under normal circumstances but the extra stress of being kidnapped, almost murdered, and chained up has him especially on edge. Just one fucking cigarette. Maybe he can get Green Bastard to give him a pack of smokes…
Sanji laughs at the thought. No fucking way.
He stands up on the grimy mattress and attempts to shake the dust off. He'd managed to make a nest out of the blankets but still feels dirty as hell, two days in this disgusting place with no shower. Shuffling off the side of the mattress, he hops to the floor, the cement feeling cold under his socked feet. He may not be able to go very far or move his legs well but it's still nice to stand.
At least his hands are still cuffed in front of him and he doesn't have that damn rag in his mouth today.
Staring at the metal chair in the middle of the room, Sanji lets his mind wander back to the same question he's mulled over ever since that knife was removed from his neck and his life was spared: Why?
It was obvious that the man's every intention was to kill him that night, so why didn't he follow through? What made him stop? Why did he remove Sanji from that chair? Go through the trouble of installing the chain in the wall and bringing down that mattress? Feeding him, giving him water, pillow and blankets.
A sick sense of understanding twists deep inside, threatening to bubble up every time he ponders why the Green Bastard has him bound to a bed. The way he's always staring at Sanji, expressionless and calm, it makes chills run up his spine. His memory fades to the moment his captor was seated upon him, how easily he overpowered Sanji. It would be impossible to fight if he…
Sanji turns his back on the chair and shuffles to his bed, squatting down and sitting on the side of the mattress. Knees curled, he tucks his cuffed hands into his lap and stares down at the chains attached to his legs, concentrating once again on his escape plan.
Zoro spots Law's black Buick as he walks across a familiar parking lot towards the restaurant. He had time to kill after work, opting not to drive all the way home just to turn around and come back to the city, so he went to the gym and lost track of time. Hair still damp from his post-workout shower and dressed in a spare outfit he had in his gym bag, he's glad they chose somewhere casual.
Opening the wooden door to the restaurant, he's greeted by the gaudy nautical theme and a bustling sea of people, swamped with the dinner rush. Searching the crowd, he spots Nami's red hair and heads in that direction, his pace slowing as he walks closer and catches a glimpse who's at the table.
Seated in a round booth are Nami and Usopp on one side, Law and Luffy in the middle, and a strange looking man with surprisingly green hair across from Nami. Zoro had never seen him before in his life but based on seating arrangements and Usopp's arm wrapped around Nami's shoulder, he can tell this is something other than just a casual friend outing. Luffy's eyes land on him and his face lights up in a grin, making a pointing motion to the random stranger sitting at the table and it hits him full force: this is some kind of set up.
A goddamn blind date.
Annoyed that he'd been duped, Zoro briefly considers turning around and just leaving, but Luffy is waving at him wildly and causing a scene so it's best to stay. Plus he owes Luffy. Glancing at the bottles of liquor lining the expansive bar, Zoro sighs and makes his way to the table, Luffy practically bouncing out of his seat by the time he arrives.
"Hey! Hey! This is Barto," Luffy whoops as soon as Zoro's within reasonable distance, "Barto, this is Zoro."
Barto stretches out a hand, his face spreading into a wide smile. Zoro notices a gold piercing hanging out of his septum and feathers lining the hood of his jacket. This guy's a piece of work, between the jewelry, the checkered pants, and the green mohawk. Maybe it's a misunderstanding and he's just a new friend of Luffy's. Zoro grasps the man's waiting hand and gives it a firm shake. However, Barto's hand lingers on Zoro's when they make eye contact and he gives Zoro a cheeky grin, one that confirms that this is definitely some kind of date.
Zoro pulls his hand away and immediately walks to Nami's side of the table, bending down and whispering threateningly to Usopp, "Move over or else."
"What?! N-no way, man," Usopp responds, standing his ground even though his voice is trembling.
Nami overhears this exchange and delivers Zoro a glare, leaning over the dark-haired man and scolding, "Go sit by Barto."
Zoro shoots her his dirtiest look but it doesn't work, her stubbornness matching his own. Barto and Luffy are oblivious to this exchange, having picked back up their prior conversation. Usopp looks back and forth between his girlfriend and Zoro, crumbling under the tension between their stare.
Finally, Nami rolls her eyes, "Look – it was Luffy's idea. I'll buy you a drink."
Zoro picks up Usopp's almost full beer and chugs it, earning an appalled squawk from Usopp and an amused chuckle from Law. Zoro sets the empty mug on the table and points his finger menacingly at Nami, "That's the drink Usopp owes me. Now you owe me a whiskey."
"Fine, just go sit down already, asshole."
Zoro complies, returning to his side of the table and sliding into the booth next to Barto, looking around the room for a server. A young girl seems to spot him searching because she smiles at him and nods, indicating she'll be by in a minute.
"So Luffy says you're a cop?" Barto asks politely, irking Zoro even further. He hates small talk, especially small talk where he has to talk about himself. That waitress better hurry over.
"Detective," he corrects as he opens the drink menu, locating the most expensive whiskey on the list.
"Yeah, he's Law's partner," Luffy chimes in. He opens his mouth to say more but is interrupted by the waitress appearing at their table with a tray of steamed oysters.
"Sorry it took so long," she apologizes as she sets the food down, "our head chef is missing so the kitchen is a little behind."
"Missing?" Law asks, leaning forward and going full detective-mode.
"Oh no, I don't mean anything serious," she laughs, pulling out a pad of paper from her apron, "He's just been away for a couple days. Things get a bit crazy without him."
Law nods and leans back in his seat as the waitress asks Usopp if he needs another beer.
"What'll it be for you?" she turns to ask Zoro.
"Johnnie Walker. Neat. And a Sam Adams."
"Any food?"
"Fish and chips."
She scribbles on her pad. "Got it. I'll have your drinks out in a minute."
As soon as the waitress is out of earshot, Nami reaches across the table and snatches the drink menu, flying through the pages to locate the price of Zoro's drink. Her eyes widen once she finds it, "Seriously, Zoro?"
"Sucks that the chef isn't here. Been wanting to try this place for awhile," Usopp complains while digging an oyster out of its shell.
"Oysters are fresh," Law quips, sucking one right out of the husk. To his right, Luffy stuffs his face with oyster after oyster, melted butter dribbling on his chin.
"This place is great," Barto turns to Zoro, "Ever been here before?"
"Once," Zoro responds, reaching over and grabbing some shellfish for himself, "For lunch."
Their server returns with drinks, Zoro slamming back his whiskey immediately. Pointing at the beer, he makes sure she knows to keep the booze flowing.
"How do you and Luffy know each other?" Barto inquires innocently.
The mix of beer and liquor warming him up, Zoro decides to try to be a little friendlier. It's not the guy's fault that his friends are a bunch of morons. "Arrested him back when I was on the streets. Was shocked when I found out that little hoodlum was the Deputy Chief's grandson."
Luffy laughs proudly at Zoro's recollection. For some strange reason, Barto seems awestruck. Maybe he has a thing for cops?
"What did you arrest him for?" he questions further.
"Destruction of city property. Threw a damn rock and took out my cruiser tail light."
The whole table laughs, peculiarly Barto and Luffy laughing the loudest. Barto places a hand on Luffy's arm, "You're such a cool dude."
Zoro raises his eyebrows at this, looking at the rest of the table. Everyone else seems to have caught it too, except Luffy, who continues laughing along with Barto. Law's steely gaze darts from his cell phone and locks on the man's hand, still resting on Luffy's arm.
Finishing off his beer, Zoro is pleased to see the waitress delivering another round of drinks to the table, assuring them that their mains will be out shortly.
Stirring her drink with her fingertip, Nami coughs lightly and tries to change the subject, "So what do you do, Barto?"
He removes his hand finally and takes a sip of his drink, some piss yellow light beer. Lightweight. "I'm between jobs at the moment."
"Just like Luffy!" Usopp takes a cheap jab, giggling into his beer.
"Damn man… shut up." Luffy frowns.
This was the wrong move on Usopp's part because Barto throws an arm around Luffy's shoulders, comforting him with a laugh, "It's okay, we can be bums together!"
Law throws back his drink, slamming his empty glass on the table. Zoro can tell as well as anyone else that Barto's behavior is striking a chord. If he gets liquored up enough, he'll probably tell the guy off.
"Hey, want another drink?" Zoro offers with a devilish grin.
"Jack and Coke Zero," Law answers, Luffy completely oblivious to his misery. Probably 'cause he's always such a miserable bastard.
Then it hits Zoro, "Jack and Coke Zero?"
Law gives him the finger as Zoro stands from the booth, shaking his head. Making his way across the crowded restaurant, he reaches the bar and finds a place to sit and flag down the bartender. A middle-aged man approaches him, his baldhead shining in the soft light of the restaurant.
"Double shot of Jack for me. Jack and Coke Zero for my buddy," Zoro orders. With luck, the bartender pulls out the glasses right in front of him, making it easy to start up a conversation. "Packed in here. My waitress said your head chef split, guess its not hurting business too much?"
The bartender shakes his head, sliding the shot into Zoro's hand. "Nah, business is as good as ever. The kid's been gone for a couple days; they said he took a vacation. Old man Zeff, the original owner, died a few months back. Chef's been taking it hard."
The great thing about local businesses is they don't have the same filter as huge corporations do. They're more personable, more forthcoming with information. Zoro's used it to his advantage quite a few times, both professionally and with his side work.
"That's a relief. Our waitress made it sound like he was seriously missing."
The bartender rolls his eyes as he sets down the other drink, leaning against the bar with a hand on his hip, "These girls just like the drama. Patty and Carne stopped by the boss' place and he wasn't there, bag packed and gone. Bus schedule printed out on the counter, they said. Kid just needed a break, clear his head or something."
Zoro smiles, finishing his drink and picking up Law's abomination, "Thanks for the drinks and conversation. Put 'em on my tab."
The bartender nods and picks up the ten Zoro left on the counter for him, moving onto the next guest as Zoro turns to leave.
Back at the table, Zoro's amused to see that the state of things hasn't much changed. Barto and Luffy are loudly chattering, Law's glaring at Barto murderously, Nami and Usopp trying to distract him with conversation. Zoro takes a seat back in his spot and slides the drink over to Law, happy to see the waitress brought him another beer while he was gone.
Law gulps down half the drink and turns to Zoro, intentionally ignoring the two next to him. "Mihawk said we have a debriefing tomorrow with some of the higher ups."
Zoro takes a swig of his beer and belches in response.
Liquor hitting Law pretty hard, he actually smirks before fixing his face back into a disgusted frown.
"Nice one!" Luffy cheers, clapping and egging Zoro on.
Barto grabs his own beer, which looks lukewarm and therefore even more like piss water than before, and chugs it down, causing himself to belch as well. Law shoots him a sour look, Barto's thinly veiled attempt at impressing Luffy quickly uncovered.
"We are not starting this game," Nami chides, side-eyeing Usopp as he slurps down his own drink. His gulping slows and he quietly burps into his hand.
"We should hang out more often, this is really fun," Barto says directly to Luffy. He hasn't said much to the rest of them, so there's no way he means the entire group.
Luffy nods, "That'd be awesome! You're a cool dude."
A blush tinges the man's cheeks, mistaking Luffy's friendliness for a compliment. Dense as ever, Luffy doesn't seem to realize that he's leading Barto to a very different assumption.
Zoro notices Law's glass is empty and the liquor's taken its effect. His normally pale cheeks are flushed and his usual grim scowl is deeper and more menacing than usual. Law taps Luffy on the shoulder, causing him to turn to turn his head towards Law. Suddenly, he grabs Luffy's face, their lips locking in a searing kiss. Nami facepalms, Usopp snickers, and Zoro swallows the rest of his drink with a smirk.
The color drains from Barto's face – unsure of how to react, he just watches as Luffy returns Law's kiss before pulling away, grin splattered across his face.
"Excuse me," Barto mutters, scooting over and motioning for Zoro to stand up so he can make his leave from the table. As Zoro sits back down, he locks eyes with Usopp and the two of them can't help but chuckle.
Just as quickly as he left, Barto returns babbling about having missed an important call and needing to leave. He throws a twenty on the table, waves goodbye to them all, and disappears into the crowd.
"What the fuck, Luffy?" Zoro growls immediately after his departure, motioning to the spot the man just stood in.
"You both have green hair, thought you'd get along."
"For fuck's sake."
"I don't think Zoro was the one he was interested in," Usopp chortles.
"Yeah, he was kinda weird," Luffy admits, rubbing the back of his neck. He turns to Law, who is grinning, absolutely pleased with him. "Sorry, Traffy."
"I need another Jack and Coke Zero."
They laugh and drink through the night, the awkwardness lifted with Barto gone. Food's devoured pretty quickly after it arrives and they stay a good bit after they've cleared their plates. By the time their tabs are paid and they're standing out front of the restaurant, under the big blue 'Baratie' sign, Zoro realizes he's way too drunk to drive home.
Staggering slightly, he looks at his keys in his hands and mutters, "Fuck."
Usopp plucks the keys out of his hand and swings them around his index finger, "Nami and I stopped drinking when we got our food. I'll drive you home."
"What 'bout you?" Zoro asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Nami's going to drive Law's car to his place. We parked there and rode with him so she can come pick me up after."
Zoro agrees and the group says goodbye, splitting towards their separate vehicles. Law's leaned over Luffy's shoulder, gripping his stomach and whining about needing to puke. Sure enough, he starts retching into the bushes as Zoro climbs into the passenger seat of his SUV.
Zoro reaches into the backseat and tugs out his gym bag as Usopp starts up the car. Digging through his bag, he finds what he's looking for: a small bottle of Jim Beam.
Usopp glances over as he backs out of the parking space, shaking his head, "You're such an alcoholic."
Zoro opens the bottle and takes a swig, causing Usopp to swerve slightly trying to reach over and shove Zoro's bottle out of sight. "You're a fucking cop! You're breaking the open container law!"
"Hate to tell you this but that's not the only law I break," Zoro snickers.
Usopp glances over at him expectantly, worry painted across his face.
"Sometimes I jaywalk."
Usopp punches him in the shoulder, chuckling at his wisecrack, "You're such a dick."
They spend the rest of their ride mostly in silence, periodically cracking jokes at Barto's or Law's expense. By the time Usopp pulls into Zoro's driveway, the bottle of Jim Beam is empty and he's completely toasted.
"Nice night, mind waiting outside?" Zoro asks as they climb out of his car. Usopp tosses him the keys, Zoro pocketing them.
"Sounds good to me. Besides, I'm allergic to cats."
Zoro nods and opens the hatchback of his car. The two of them sit on the bumper, legs dangling and stare into the dark waiting for Nami.
"That guy was a weirdo but Luffy had good intentions," Usopp starts but Zoro waves a hand, motioning that continuing isn't necessary.
"Y'all worry too much," Zoro slurs, gazing up at the starry night sky. Best thing about living away from the city is being able to see the stars. Reminds him of home.
"'Must be drunk, the Mississippi is coming out of you," Usopp teases, earning him a soft punch to the shoulder.
"Shut up, ya damn Yankee."
Usopp's cell phone rings, interrupting their laughter. Zoro continues to stare at the night sky, the booze causing his mind to spin. It's rare that he gets completely loaded but when he does, he finds he's mostly content. Drunk and happy.
"Nami's almost here."
Sure enough, ten minutes or so later, headlights turn into Zoro's driveway, temporarily blinding the two of them, as the car gets closer. Nami dims the lights as she parks and leans out the window, waving at Usopp.
He hops off the back of the SUV and climbs into the passenger seat of Nami's sedan, yelling goodbye to Zoro.
Zoro waves back at them and watches the small vehicle reverse out of his driveway and head back towards the city.
Standing, Zoro digs into the pocket of his jeans and locates his keys. Closing the hatchback, he presses the lock button, causing the headlights to flash the horn to beep. Walking to his front door, he sways as he goes, drunker than he expected to be.
Unlocking the door, he swings it open and tosses his keys on the entryway table. Door closed again, he locks up for the night before turning on the light. Oni looks up from her spot on the back of the couch and yawns, welcoming him home.
Wandering into the kitchen, he opens the fridge and grabs a beer. Doesn't really need one but why not, just a couple more before bed. Twisting off the cap he takes a swig and opens his cabinets. They're mostly barren; he needs to go shopping soon. Grabbing a bag of potato chips for Sanji, he spots his bag of pepperoni sticks and grabs that too.
Deciding to open the fridge once again, he pulls out a bottle of water and a second beer for the road. Everything in the kitchen closed back up, he turns off the light and walks down the dark hallway to his bedroom.
Sanji can tell by the heavy footsteps above that the Green Bastard is finally home. Even without access to a clock, he knows the man's been gone for a long time. His hunger and his thirst are indicative of that. Sitting with his back against the wall he waits and listens to the telling noises of his captor paying him a visit.
Within minutes the door is swung open and the man enters the room, food and drinks tucked under arm and a brown beer bottle in hand. His presence is different, more relaxed. Sanji watches him dump his load onto the counter of the workbench and take a long pull of his beer before setting it down as well.
Green Bastard closes the door and locks it from the inside, tugging on it to make sure it doesn't budge. Pocketing his keys, he makes his way over to Sanji's bed, sly grin playing on his lips.
Crouching down in front of Sanji, he leans over and pulling on Sanji's chains, first checking the ones on his feet and then the cuffs around his wrists. Grabbing Sanji's ankle and keeping a firm grip, Green Bastards leans in closer. Sanji presses his back harder against the wall, smelling beer and liquor on the man's breath. Fuck, this has to be it. Figures he'd come do it while drunk. The hand around his ankle squeezes tighter, the man reaching his other hand towards Sanji. Heart pounding, Sanji's close to panicking, his legs twitching to kick at the bastard but the force of the man's hand keeping him from doing so.
Wordlessly, Green Bastard reaches past him and pulls on the post chaining Sanji to the wall, testing its security. Satisfied with the results, he leans back and releases Sanji's leg before standing up and returning to his beer.
Sanji swallows hard, body rigid from the Green Bastard being so close in his space. He felt the fucker's sour breath on his skin. Suddenly, a bag of chips lands on the bed next to him soon followed by a bottle of water. He looks up and the bastard's pulled out his stool setting it a couple feet from Sanji, using the arm of the metal chair as a mini-table for his beer.
Green Bastard munches on pepperoni sticks as Sanji picks up his chips. Sanji frowns at the label, they just happen to be his least favorite flavor.
"Don't like barbeque?" the man asks from his seat.
"Not particularly," the cook answers as he opens the bag, nibbling on a couple chips.
Thinking as he chews, Sanji begins solidifying his plan. The man is obviously drunk, words slurring ever so slightly. He reeks of booze. He's acting friendlier than usual. Sanji can use all of this to his advantage.
Finishing off his food, Sanji nods to himself, his plan cemented. Turning to the man, he takes a deep breath and asks, "Why are you doing this to me?"
The man tosses his bag into the seat of the metal chair and wipes his hands on his knees. He stands from his stool and guzzles down the rest of his beer, emptying the bottle completely. Forcefully, he slams the bottle against the side of the chair, smashing the bottom off and leaving jagged pieces of glass scatted on the floor. It's the kind of reaction Sanji was hoping for.
Instantly, the Green Bastard is looming over him, weapon in hand. Seizing Sanji by the collar of his shirt, he tugs him up vigorously, slamming him against the wall. Sanji stays silent, body limp, allowing himself to be manhandled by the dumb brute.
"A murderer like you," the man hisses, jaw clenched, "has no right to question my intentions."
The man's left hand holds the broken beer bottle, his right clenching Sanji's shirt collar and pinning him to the wall, leaving Sanji's legs free. Using the man's grip to his advantage, Sanji jumps and knees the Green Bastard in the stomach.
The man lets go of his shirt, doubling over from the hit he took to the gut. Sanji takes the opportunity to lunge for the broken bottle in the motherfucker's hand. It's a risk but the alcohol should have dulled his reflexes. The Green Bastard shocks him by reacting quickly, tossing the bottle across the room and out of reach. Asshole's more alert than he seems.
A hard punch darts out towards Sanji's side but he manages to dodge it miraculously, the chains at his feet keeping him from being too quick. Sanji grabs the man's head before he can stand back up fully and knees him sharply in the face. He feels the bastard's nose crack with the force and hopes this is the advantage he needs to take the man out completely.
Zoro sees red, his nose breaking from Sanji's attack. Enraged, he lashes out, delivering a hard punch to Sanji's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Sanji lets go of his head and Zoro stands, blood pouring down his face and onto his shirt. Trying to escape Zoro's next hit, Sanji manages to catch his feet in his chains and he's down, falling back onto the mattress
Zoro's immediately on top of him, breathing heavy through his mouth, blood spurting from his face onto Sanji's clothes. Hands grip Sanji's neck and he's choking him, trying to squeeze the last bit of life out of him. Sanji kicks and writhes underneath him, reaching up and hitting Zoro again in his broken nose, trying to distract him with pain. Zoro can't feel the pain, though. Can't feel anything other than pure rage. He has to kill this bastard and he has to kill him now.
The sound of screaming fills his ears as he continues strangling Sanji. He deserves it, Zoro keeps telling himself. He has to pay for what he did. This is the only way that girl will get justice. The only way Zoro can keep the streets safe. As if his hands belong to someone else, he feels his grip weaken around Sanji's throat, giving him a moment to gasp for air.
No matter how badly Zoro wants to kill him, every muscle in his body is telling him not to. He tightens his grip around Sanji's throat again, resolving to ignore his instincts, but finds himself unable to follow through. Releasing his hold once more, Zoro sits up, still straddling Sanji's body, and glares down at the man. He can't fucking do it.
Sanji gasps for air, reaching up to rub his throat. Their chests heave in unison, Zoro's face covered in blood and Sanji's splattered with it as well. The tension in the room fades away and Zoro starts to feel the throbbing pain of his broken nose. As his pulse calms, he recognizes the screaming he heard earlier was really the harsh shrill of his cell phone ringer.
Zoro pulls the phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen, realizing he has to take this call. Unsure of what else to do, he grabs one of the blankets and stuffs it in Sanji's mouth as a makeshift gag. Taking hold of Sanji's handcuffs, he makes sure there's no way he can pull the gag out and yell.
Tapping the button to answer the phone, Zoro almost jumps as he hears Mihawk's nasally voice fill the room and echo off of the walls.
"Roronoa."
Zoro fumbles to tap the button to take the phone off speaker but his drunkenness makes his usual incompetence with technology even worse, Mihawk's words continue to boom.
"Make sure you look halfway decent tomorrow. We have a debriefing."
"Got it," Zoro responds, finally getting the phone off of speaker. Too late, though. Mihawk's already hung up.
Zoro slides the phone across the cellar floor towards the door, way out of Sanji's reach. Keeping his hold on the handcuffs, he stands up slowly, careful not to bend his face too far forward and cause it to bleed more. Once he's off of the man, he lets go of the cuffs, Sanji's hands flying up to pull the blanket out of his mouth.
Zoro glances around the room, glass littering the floor from the smashed bottle. Fuck. He better clean this up, just in case. Silently, he locates a small broom in one of his cabinets and cleans the glass up off the floor, nose trickling blood from his bending over.
Sanji stares at the ceiling as the Green Bastard moves around the room, cleaning up the mess from their altercation. Sanji can feel the man's blood drying on his face but he doesn't care at this moment. His neck is sore and throat feels like its on fire from the stronghold Green Bastard had on it. This was his only chance at escape and he failed; his captor won't let his guard down ever again. It's over. He's done.
Without looking up, he hears the man gathering his stuff and exiting the room, door slamming and locking behind him. Sanji rolls onto his side, staring out at the dark space. Clearing his throat, he needs to test his vocal cords to make sure everything's still in working order.
Voice a raspy whisper, he says the only word that comes to mind, testing the name on his tongue, "Roronoa."
A/N: Modern AU headcanons are literally my favorite thing to talk about. I'm trying to wrap as many of mine into this fic. As always, thanks for the comments/reviews. Very motivating!