A/N: Excuses? See below.

Takes place after meeting Laboon.

(Last) Disclaimer: You can see the two previous chapters.

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Special Nights

Night Three: Rainbow Gelatin

By VirgoMaiden

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Their next night together was when they were returning Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9 to their island. Nami was slowly getting used to the Lock Post, but she still stumbled into the occasional problem, so it was no wonder that she had been very tense lately.

Sanji was currently cleaning the fish that he had won at the cooking contest in Logue Town. Nami was sitting on the counter, next to him, watching him with a disgusted sort of interest. She was avoiding looking at the fish face at all costs.

"Next question," she said. "Why did you want to become a chef in the first place?" She had been quizzing him about his life pre - Mugiwara crew for about half an hour (so far) that night, starting when she had walked through the door saying that she needed a pre-bed drink.

"You mean before the Baratie?" he asked.

She nodded. "What was the appeal of the job?"

He smiled and took a quick drag of his cigarette (he had cut back to only four cigarettes when he was in front of her – a huge accomplishment for him, although she still wheedled him to quit). "None, actually; I was working as a cabin boy on the ship that Zeff had attacked – the Carlotta – and I had been transferred to the kitchen – as a chef-in-training – after I had some issues with some of the passengers."

"So from there you liked the kitchen."

"Kind of." He paused and took another drag, thinking. "See, I originally had wanted to become a captain of my own cruise ship. Before I had heard of the All Blue. (I had heard of the All Blue from one of the passengers.)"

"So you didn't want to be a chef?" Nami asked, almost incredulously.

He nodded. "Hai, Miss Nami-san," he said. "And besides, the pay for a cabin boy was much better than for a kitchen boy."

"You were supporting yourself at such a young age?"

"Yes; my father had run off with a woman that he worked with when I was five. When I was eleven, my mother sat me on a bench in front of a pharmacy and came out in police custody."

"She was arrested?" Nami was clearly shocked; above all of the shipmates, Sanji had seemed to have the nicest home life (compared to Usopp and Luffy's absentee fathers, her stint with Arlong, and …. Well, she didn't want to know what had happened to Zoro's parents). She had clearly expected a stay-at-home mom and a working, devoted father.

Well, his mother was staying "home," all right.

He nodded, making it seem like he didn't mind so much. "Attempted robbery and had assaulted an officer of the Marines. She got twelve years."

She should get out soon, right?" she asked.

He looked up, almost as if just realizing it. "In about four years," he said. "Maybe three." He looked down again and began to use the knife to peel the skin off the fish. "I don't think about it too much."

"Why not?"

He looked up at Nami. Her brow was furrowed and it occurred to him that even an intelligent, beautiful woman like herself couldn't understand why he did many of the things that he did.

"First of all, because I thought that doing so would be pitying myself, and my entire life, my mother had constantly reminded me that we were lucky. Even after my old man left. She had raised me to refuse all signs of sympathy, pity, and charity while giving more than was expected.

"Second of all, because I thought that they wouldn't let me go back to her after she got out. That they'd put me in some shitty orphanage."

"So it was your pride?" Nami asked.

"You could say that."

"Do you keep in contact with her?"

"I occasionally write to her," he said. "Once a month since meeting Zeff. She sends me one about every…week?"

"How the heck do you get them?" Nami asked. "Sanji, we're in the middle of the Grand Line!"

"I have my ways," he said, smiling.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you do," she said.

It was quiet for a few minutes after that, and Sanji had just wrapped up the old skins and put them in the refrigerator (he could do things with those skins that most people couldn't believe) and had begun to clean his knife when she spoke again.

"What was her name?"

"Annette," he said without looking up.

"Do you have a picture?"

Sanji wanted to smile, considering this was the first interest she had had in him, but didn't, as it was a serious subject.

"Yes," he said. "It's somewhere in my bag. I'll show it to you sometime, if you like."

"I would like," Nami said, and swung one leg over the other, revealing her brand new sandals.

"Those are nice," he said as he began to cut the fish into 4 – by – 6 – inch pieces.

"Oh, these?" She sounded as if she hadn't noticed that he had noticed the shoes, but he heard the underlying tone of pride. "Thank you. I managed to get them from 1750 Beli to 650."

"You're so smart, Nami-swan!" Sanji said, turning towards her, adoration in his eyes. "We need to go shopping together some time!"

"Clothes shopping, you mean?" Nami smirked.

"Next time we go ashore. Whiskey Peak should have a nice shopping district, don't you think?"

"Miss Wednesday-chan seems fashionable," Sanji said, thinking about their blue-haired charge.

"If she shops there at all," Nami said (he didn't detect any jealousy tone…did she not care if he mentioned other women in her presence?). "Now, shouldn't you have a treat for me tonight, Sanji-kun?"

Sanji beamed and quickly washed his hands as to get rid of the fish-scent. "Only the best for my dear Mellorine!" he said loudly, and pulled out a tall glass and long spoon out of the refrigerator.

"Ta-da!" he said proudly, holding the glass before her at eye-level. "What do you think, Nami-san?"

Before her in a tall, soda fountain glass was rainbow gelatin, arranged in the usual ROY G. BIV fashion. There was a layer of whipped cream at the top, and a red cherry above that.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Is each flavor a color?" she asked, taking the glass and spoon from him, inspecting the treat from all sides.

"Hai," Sanji said, and began to warp up the remaining fish up in a deep-set pan. "Red is cherry, orange is orange, yellow is lemon, green is lime, blue is blue raspberry, indigo is blueberry, and violet is grape."

"No mikan theme today?" Nami asked, tentatively scooping up a bit of the cream, disturbing the even layer.

"Would you prefer tangerine gelatin?" Sanji asked, closing the refrigerator and grabbing his lukewarm cup of coffee (his turn for watch was tonight).

"I'm fine, Sanji-kun," Nami said, digging towards the second layer of color (she was eating it quickly, he noticed with pride – it was good that she had a healthy appetite). "Right now, don't pay any attention to me."

"I could never do that to you, Mellorine," Sanji said, looking at her for the second time that night with his "love-love eyes" (named "ero-eyes" by Zoro).

She scoffed. "Why am I not surprised," he heard her mutter.

It was quiet in the kitchen after that, the only sounds being the clank of the spoon Nami was using on the cup and the slurp of Sanji enjoying his coffee (the first of many to come that night).

"Tell me more about your childhood."

Sanji looked up, his gaze having been focused - -unintentionally – on Nami's new shoes. "Before or after Zeff?" he asked.

"After," Nami said. "Tell me why you decided to be a chef."

"Hm," Sanji said, sliding into his pants pocket and grasping the lighter in there. "There was the All Blue that was my main inspiration, but… there were some other reasons," he murmured, looking now into his cup of coffee. He looked up. "I started working at the Baratie right after my rescue. I worked in the kitchen to satisfy Zeff, mainly. I would have rather been out there with the people after getting off the island where I had seen only the Old Geezer. But I didn't. So. Yeah. At first I thought that working there would repay my debt to him, but I slowly began to realize that I liked it there, under his thumb. I picked up smoking around that time."

Nami made a disapproving sound, but didn't interrupt.

"His kitchen grew on me. Making all of the food every day… Well, it was more than I had been doing on the Carlotta, that's for sure. And making that food every day made me think of it as an art; turning a person's day around in just a few bites, a few minutes. Food is therapeutic like that. I also liked how I personally was the one turning the day around. It just strengthened my resolve to become a chef."

"Therapeutic, eh?" Nami asked, scraping the bottom of the glass. "Well, that certainly has some merit to it." She sighed and slid off the counter. "It's ten-thirty now," she said absently, and then turned to Sanji.

"Good night, Sanji-kun," she said. She made her way to the door before turning around and looking at him seriously.

"I want to see that picture, Sanji," she said, and closed the door behind her.

Sanji smiled and began cleaning her glass.

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A/N: Hand written a day after I posted the last one. Delayed because I got back from vacation (three week vacation, mind you) yesterday. Apologies if I messed up Sanji's background. If pointed out (nicely, please), then I'll be sure to fix it. The next chapter's being worked on as well. AMtHGF… well, it's going more quickly, that's for sure.

VM