What a humiliating scene this was.
Him, Zoro, the Zoro, bounty hunter supreme, first mate on the pirate ship that beat up pirates with more than a fifty million berry bounty on their heads.
In a field.
Picking flowers.
There was something wrong with this picture, Zoro was sure of it.
Under any other circumstance, of course, he would have stayed, at the very least, five miles away from the flower-filled stretch of land, (the happy pony meadow, as he called it) but it was part of Nami's plan. And he owed her money. He had learned the hard way never to borrow money from that leech. Even if he was in desperate need of some booze, he added to himself.
The plan was mind-numbingly simple. Then again, so was the shit cook. It worked out perfectly, Zoro thought with an inward chuckle.
What? Oh yes. The plan. Nami, quite fed up for the moment with Sanji's constant flirting, had thought up a simple counter. If she already had a lover, then the cook wouldn't have a chance. Therefore, since he was the only other male (let alone human) on the island, Zoro would be her faux boyfriend. (He had protested until she threatened him with the lengthy debt that he owed her.)
So Nami sent the green-haired pirate out to the field of flowers to pick her a bouquet that he would just so unexpectedly present to her once Sanji was in hearing range.
But courting Nami.
Bearable, no. Remotely enjoyable, no. Excruciating, searing, horrible pain, yes.
Now. Torturing the shit cook?
Fun, yes.
Zoro finished picking the last flower, violet petals with speckled dabs of white, being careful not to be stung by one of the few bees lingering around several randomly placed plants. Ruffling his small collection so that they'd all fall in place, therefore look nicer and a wee bit more, well, professional, (even though they were anything but) the swordsman set out toward the makeshift hut, careful not to oh dear me stumble across the path of the blonde haired cook.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
The navigator tapped her slender fingers irritably on the dysfunctional looking desk, (Sanji kicked down another tree, so she used Zoro's sword to saw it into a mostly rectangle shape, much to the swordsman's misery) waiting for her "boyfriend" to return. Tap, tap, tap. One at a time.
She was pissed.
It's not like she was ugly or anything. I mean, obviously. Sanji's steadfast devotion proved that well enough. And while she wasn't exactly thrilled with having to pretend that Zoro was her lover, hell, if he wasn't the only other male on this shitty island, she never would have even considered him, but still. He didn't have to act like she was something close to a swamp thing.
Oh well. I'll just add a couple thousand more berries on his tab and I'll feel better. Nami smiled to herself.
The swordsman chose that moment to stomp in the door carrying a wilted looking bunch of flowers. He was scowling and he had a red welt on his nose. The orange haired girl fell into a laughing fit of hysterics on the inside, but somehow kept herself looking sober on the outside. I've got to start liking bees more.
"THAT SHITTY BEE ALMOST KILLED ME. THOSE THINGS ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED," Zoro yelled. Nami gave him a warning glare. If Sanji happened to hear them, everything they planned would be for naught.
Luckily, he happened to trot into their camp area just minutes later, looking around, a worried look on his face that wasn't covered by his hair. "Was that a bear?" He asked, remembering that creature they happened to come across on the first day on the island. They hadn't seen it since, although they did see other strange animals that didn't look like they came from the grand line, much less Earth. There was no denying that this island was just plain weird.
"Er, yes," Nami gave him a polite smile. "But Zoro here," she added a slight hint of admiration in her voice and a sort of shining in her eyes, "Chased it away. Isn't he wonderful?" Zoro tried his absolute hardest to look modest yet loving, and not gag right then and there.
Sanji froze. Reassuring himself that that was just a small friendly compliment, he forced a smile. "That's… nice," he managed to choke out, trying to sound as perky as he possibly could. "I'm glad it's gone and you're safe, Nami-san."
The green haired swordsman smirked once the cook was chatting nervously with Nami.
This may be quite some fun after all.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Taco speaks.
Omg? Wow. Fast update for me.
ANYWAY. Few things I'd like to apologize for.
One. Nami seems like a bitch in this. Sorry, but you have to look at it from her point of view. Sanji continually bugging you may get kind of annoying, no? But yeah. This is still a namixsanji fic. It just comes later on. So don't be all like "OMFG I HATE NAMI NOW I'M GOING TO BE MEAN & NOT REVIEW" yeah DX I would cry if you did that. ;
Two. IF YOU THINK THIS IS A NAMIXZORO FIC I LAUGH AT YOUR PIXELLATED FACE. It's not. I tried to emphasize as much as I possibly could that they really don't like each other.
Three. My crappy writing. As always.
So um. REVIEWS ARE LOVED, FLAMES ARE EXTINGUISHED.
Oh & everyone should listen to chou no mori. I was listening to that while I was writing this. It fits well. ; mebbe in the next chapter I'll post a link (if I feel like wasting bandwidth to download it, that is. Or, you could go to ashen-ray. Shilin has a link on her blog page too.)
& REMEMBER KIDS. ITALICS ARE YOUR FRIENDS. o.o
LUV TACO.