A/N: In other words, what I wish would happen after this whole mad thing about Sanji is resolved - if it's resolved in the way I want it to be. That is, no marriage or engagement or anything to Pudding! But my hopes are low...
Wasn't sure if I should post this as a separate, sequel story to "In the Kitchen" but eventually decided to just add it on since it's directly connected.
This may or may not be revised along the way or once the arc is done. (In all likelihood, by the time it's over I won't be bothered to alter anything here, but who knows?)
IV: Not in the Kitchen
Nami made her way up to where her precious trees stood on the deck. The last few days had been utterly exhausting, and she felt like she needed to just stand in her mini-grove for a while and breathe in the smell of oranges and the night air.
To her surprise, she found Sanji standing at the railing in the gap between the two rows of trees. He seemed to be staring out at something in the distance. A thin wisp of smoke floated up from the cigarette he was smoking.
"Sanji-kun?"
He wheeled round on his heel, much faster than she thought he could have, considering he was injured. The suddenness of the action and his posture suggested that he was still on edge. Completely understandable, she thought, given that they had only just managed to get him out of the clutches of his crazy family and the equally crazy (in a different way) Big Mom Pirates barely twenty-four hours before.
But when he saw her, he relaxed immediately. "Nami-san!" he said. "You scared me there for a moment."
She noticed that he shifted to rest his weight more on one leg than the other and leaned back on the railing.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to. Just… Didn't expect to see you here." She gestured to the grove and then to the nearby bench. "Don't you want to sit down?"
Sanji waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm all right for now. As for why I'm here… I just thought I'd come up here for a bit. Haven't been here in a while." He touched the nearest leaf with a finger, and watched it bob up and down.
It was a small action, but it caused a huge wave of relief to wash over her. Sanji was there. He was back.
Nami took five steps forward and flung her arms around him, startling him enough that he dropped his cigarette. "I'm so glad…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
What, I can't even speak in full sentences now? She felt slightly foolish.
Then Sanji folded his arms around her, and she felt his head tilt so his cheek was pressed against her hair. "Me too," he said, softly.
Nami thought she would cry. She blinked hard, trying to make the tears she felt welling up to stay put. A choked feeling came into her throat. Talk. She had to talk. Otherwise she really would start crying, and she had been doing rather too much crying lately. So she talked.
"I was so scared. I was afraid you'd go through with it – marry her, get engaged, something. I didn't know if you would come back. Or – or – if you did, maybe you'd come back married, and bring her with you…"
Oh crap, she was going to cry anyway. She drew in a long, shaky breath and pressed the heel of her hand to each of her eyes in turn, willing herself to not cry.
Sanji's arms tightened around her back. Several silent moments passed.
"You haven't lost me, Nami-san."
She turned and nodded, burying her face in his neck. One tear defied her command to stay put and stubbornly ran down her cheek and landed on the collar of his shirt.
Sanji said nothing for a while. He just continued to hold her, showing no signs of having heard the small half-stifled sniffs or of feeling a few more tiny wet spots form on his shoulder.
"I had no intention getting married or even getting engaged to her," he murmured. "But there were things that needed sorting out, so I had to go. And I needed to get all of you out and away from Capone first, or he – they – could have used you against me."
"I know."
"I didn't plan to die either."
"You could have though," said Nami in a small voice.
There was a long pause.
"I could have," he said with a note of solemnity. "But I didn't." He drew back a little so he could look at her. "Largely thanks to the princess rousing the king and the knights of her house to come and rescue the prince. That's what Chopper tells me, anyway."
Nami flushed and looked away. "I – I didn't really do anything."
He brushed some strands of hair away from her eyes. "I wasn't likely to die though. Someone ordered me not to die. Or she'd have me brought back to life and killed again by a marimo-head who has no sense of direction, and I can't let that happen. That would be humiliating!"
She made a face at him. "A well-deserved punishment, I'd say."
"You break my heart, Nami-san!" he exclaimed, dramatically clasping a hand over his chest.
She rolled her eyes at his theatrics though she smiled all the same.
He smiled too, but his serious demeanour returned and his hand came up to caress her face. "I'm not that easy to lose, you know. You're kind of stuck with me now."
"Am I?"
"Yup."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"Good."
Sanji kissed her then, cradling her face in the one hand, while the other held her close.
The kiss was soft and slow, but oh, so electrifying. It was completely different from the kiss in the kitchen before Zou. That one had been both intense and a little awkward, born of the delight and surprise of finding out that feelings were mutual, plus a slight clumsiness that betrayed lack of experience on both sides. (She wasn't sure about him, but, as Nami had mused later, when was the last time she had kissed someone like that?) It had also carried with it a tinge of the strain that both – especially Sanji – were experiencing at the time, running from the pursuing Big Mom crew and heading to an unfamiliar island to find an unfamiliar allied crew. This kiss was unlike the previous one. It was an apology, a reunion, and a promise. No strain here, only deep, deep relief.
The night air was cool and there was a slight breeze blowing that made it feel colder, but Nami hardly noticed it in the delightful warmth of Sanji's arms and lips. She was thankful that she had been leaning on him to begin with because it felt like her legs were turning into jelly, and her arms weren't far behind on the jelly scale too.
She was breathless when he finally pulled away.
Releasing her from the circle of his arms, he said, "Much as I really like holding you like this, I kind of need to sit down for a bit now." He moved towards the bench.
"Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have kept you standing…"
He patted the space beside him. "That is nothing you need to apologise for. Believe me."
Sanji's real smile, the way he was smiling at her then, was utterly charming. She liked it so much better than the more common, obsequious ones he bestowed upon her and every other attractive female he saw. She told him so as she took a seat beside him.
"I'll have to try and stop doing that then." He took her hand and tucked it into his arm.
"Perhaps you should. But I like feeling special. If you smiled like that at every woman, they really would be falling at your feet and I'd be horribly jealous."
"Would you now?" He sounded amused. "Here's a compromise: I'll try to do it less, but I'll reserve the very best ones for you. That way you won't be annoyed, but you won't need to get jealous either?"
"That's acceptable." Nami decided that she really liked the feel of his jacket sleeve against her arm. It was a nice smooth material.
"What do I get in return though?" he asked.
"Hmm." Reaching her other hand up, she turned his face towards her and kissed him. "That?"
He looked like he thought it was more than enough.
.
