I know it's been forever! Anyways I'm back now, and posting for Shadowing. I own nothing and no one in the story, and cursing should be the only thing worth warning about for this chapter. Enjoy (if anyone is actually still reading)
The stabbing pain behind his eyes was the first clue that Zoro was alive.
Having learned the hard way, that pain was usually caused by some outside force, and that said force might be just waiting to go another round, Zoro slowed his breathing, kept his eyes closed, and tried to focus on his surrounding.
No rocking or shaking, so he wasn't on a ship or caravan.
The dullness of sound from his surroundings must mean he was indoors.
He was reasonably comfortable, likely on a bed.
Twitching proved that he was unbound, and his swords were actually still around his waist. Things were definitely looking up.
"Really, Mellorine, you must stay until Mr. Zoro wakes up, I'm most certain he will want to reward you himself for your valor.
'French spewing must be Sanji.' Zoro was beginning to believe himself back on the ship when the Mellorine in question responded.
"Umm...no, sir, thank you. I couldn't possibly stay, and in fact, I would consider it thank you enough if you never, ever, told Zoro I was here. There was some shuffling that told Zoro that the woman was trying to leave while the clingy cook tried to stop her.
"No, truly, Mr. Zoro will want to thank you in person for your aid, and as I am in his debt, it would be a travesty if I didn't help him." As the door slammed shut, it registered to the swordsman that this French spewing moron was actually the cook he'd been helping out for the last week. This meant he was in town.
Opening his eyes finally, Zoro tried to ignore the light searing into his brain and look around. The Baratie cook was leaning against the doorframe shaking his head, and the unknown woman was nowhere in sight. With a slight moan Zoro sat up and rubbed his head.
"Mr. Zoro, you just missed your charming raven haired companion."
"I don't have any charming companions, Garret, just the crew. Who was that anyway? And why were you speaking French? Your last name is Gordon, and you have no accent."
"Ahh, that lovely young woman! She nearly broke down the door to get you inside, and then like a delicate knight in shining armor, took you to the bed to rest. She nearly broke her glasses trying to get you situated, then left without a word...well to you at least."
The swooning and drooling from the far over middle-aged chef began to turn Zoro's stomach; of course that could be the concussion he seemed to have from his last fight. The green haired man had, upon waking, realized his mistake with the pimp-hooker combo and was disgusted with himself. Letting the woman get the drop on him was pathetic, and as soon as the world stopped spinning he would go and take care of both of them.
"As for the French, Mr. Zoro," The baratie cook hadn't stopped in his rant about the pirate's savior, "the ladies like French, and you would do well to remember that. Your Marine friend didn't seem to mind it at all." With a knowing gleam the cook wandered through the small dusty living room, and into the kitchen of the apartment.
Things began to click in his mind as the Baratie chef got some ice for his swelling. He had been rescued by a woman. A woman with glasses. A raven, err, black-haired woman with glasses. A black-haired Marine.
"Oh. My. God."
Garret Gordon, or so he claimed himself to be, was amused, but not particularly surprised as the door to the apartment opened and closed so rapidly that it was nearly one sound. He had seen the concern on the lovely young woman's face, and had pretended not to notice as she gently put one hand on the rough pirate's forehead to check for a temperature. Even ignoring these, what he considered to be very pointed, facts, that the Marine had helped the Pirate at all, especially when his capture could have made her career, was very telling.
"Good luck Mr. Zoro, I've heard of your very...peculiar sense of direction, so I doubt you'll find what your looking for." Chuckling, the cook got ready for the night shift at the Barnacle, with the image of Zoro finding everyone and everything in town except the young woman he was looking for.
"Where the hell is it! How could they move the ship AND the pier!?" Zoro had been running full out for about half an hour. The moment it registered that he had been rescued by the marine, and thus she knew he was in town, and further would probably want to fight him, he had determined that the best course of action was to return to the ship immediately and not consider setting foot in the town again until the marines left, or just sailing away right now. Who the hell needed a rudder anyway?
It wasn't cowardice. He could fighter and win, that he knew, but seeing her, looking into what was a perfect copy of Kuina's face, and listening to a facsimile of Kuina's voice saying very Kuina like things was far too much for him to handle. So he ran. He ran fast and far and apparently to every goddamned place in town except the goddamned pier!
Making another left turn, his fifth now, he knew where he was going. Yes! This was where he needed to go, down the street, past the liquor store, and then just a right and the pier-
~~As Zoro turned past the alley near the Barnacle for the third time, Garret was sorely tempted to go lend him a hand, but since the young woman had turned that same corner and some townsfolk had been running past toward the marine ship, the chef was sure that Zoro would meet them.~~
-was no where in sight.
As he rounded the corner and saw the absolute lack of a ship, a pier, an ocean, or anything even vaguely resembling what he wanted to find; Zoro took stock of the situation. The street he was on had no boxes he could throw to distract. There were no awnings he could pull down as a blockade. No trees, nor trashcans for immediate hiding were in the vicinity. A quick glance around actually proved that this street was disturbingly and disgustingly clean, and as such, Zoro was completely in the open. There was nothing to interfere with the light shining down, highlighting his green hair and glinting swords as Tashigi, who had been kneeling over the unconscious hooker, looked up; her glass-covered eyes locking on his own.
The cook had been nice enough, Tashigi mused, if a bit too interested in her thoughts on one green haired idiot. When she finally dragged the swordsman to the chef's apartment she was worried she'd be attacked, or at the least harshly spoken too, being that the man was a friend of pirates. Now she saw that the reputation of the Baratie's fighting cooks were well founded. They'd really serve anyone, and not really care. The man had agreed to take Zoro until he woke up, and until the grizzled chef had started spouting French and trying to get her to stay, she'd been please to be in his company. It was nice to have someone know that she was around Zoro, but who wouldn't pass judgment nor threaten to court marshal her. Despite this, haste was of the essence if she was going to arrest the pimp and prostitute from earlier before they awoke, and get far away before Zoro returned to consciousness.
Returning to the park, she saw that the filthy man and ragged woman hadn't moved, and after snagging one of the townsfolk to go get Marine reinforcements, she had nothing to do but wait.
While she searched the pair for weapons and ID she wondered if she had done the right thing in getting Zoro away before calling for Marine assistance. Despite what Smoker might have thought, Tashigi was fully aware that her recent behavior was outside of normal. Despite the convenient excuse Smoker had developed, that she was searching for the slave traders, she knew her motives were directly tied to the green-haired swordsman. It wasn't the way Smoker had hinted though, not a crush or attraction, it was…was…
As Tashigi looked up, searching for the right word, and her eyes focused to the main street. Focused on green hair, three swords, tanned skin, and a white shirt. Her eyes locked on those of Roronoa Zoro. Her heart sped up, face flushing, and as she watched the man turn and flee, she couldn't even call out. Couldn't chase him, and she knew she was screwed.
Infatuated, that was the word. She was infatuated with Zoro. She had been stalking him and now, to her shame, he knew it.
End Ch7
Author's notes: I couldn't believe how long I went without updating. I have no good excuse, though I am writing a HUGE fic about my personal fave pairing Zoro and Sanji. I know this would never happen, makes no sense, and to write an almost plausible fic I had to pull out every tired cliche I could think of, and even then I don't believe it would happen. Still it floats my boat. (Zoro and Tashigi fiction is written specifically so Flamemajic has something to read) I hope you like this and will review. I wouldn't, but then I'm a jerk, so don't be like me.
