Snow Ballet - Day Four, Evening | Day Five, Early Morning (Modern AU One Piece fic) Inspired by fan art by Exzireart
Master Post

Author's note: Ivankov's accent

In the anime, Iva pronounces personal pronounces (e.g. you, I, etc.) with a V in front of them (e.g. vanata, vatashi, etc.). The direct adjustment into English would be to just do the same thing (e.g. vou, Vi, etc.). This is the way things are translated in the subs (At least the ones I have).
But there's also another school of thought where the mispronunciation is due to a Russian accent (Hinted at by the Russian name).

Normally I subscribe to the first school of thought on the subject, mostly because Russia isn't a country in Oda's world, so the accent doesn't have to fall into the confines of beingspecifically Russian. However, since I am writing Iva as being specifically Russian in this fic, I'll be using the Russian accent. It's a creative decision, similar to how Sanji will say 'Miss Robin' instead of 'Robin-chan' because in this story he's not Japanese. Sorry if that's jarring.

Iva's house—her estate, really—was a lot larger than Zoro ever anticipated. Dartbrow's girlfriend had explained on their long drive over that Iva's father came from oil money, and her mother had been a genius with investments, but Zoro never expected the mansion they were driving up to.

Even Usopp who had married into quite a lot of money himself was stunned silent as he drove up the main drive to the front door. They passed a fountain with a large bronze statue in the centre, and Luffy leaned across Zoro's lap so he could roll the window down for a better look.

Zoro felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation. He put his hand over Luffy's face, shoving him back into his own seat.

Their captain didn't seem to mind the treatment. "Did you see the size of that statue, Zoro? It was a statue fountain made entirely of bronze! So cool! I'm going to get one of those for the front yard!"

Zoro shivered, but refused to admit the weakness and close the window. Instead he crossed his arms and concentrated on his idiot captain. "This is why you're always broke."

"You should really get someone to manage your money if you have problems with it," Nami said, distractedly tapping a pencil against her lips while she thought. She'd been making little notes on a map the entire journey, and apparently arriving at their destination wasn't solving whatever problem she had with it.

"Why don't you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Manage my money for me!"

Nami turned around to look at Luffy from where she was sitting in the passenger seat, her hands neatly folding the map with seemingly practiced instinct. Her hair was up in pig tales and cute pink clips; she was wearing glasses, and had a dimple on her lower lip from where she'd been pressing a pencil. It was an adorable image, and Zoro appreciated it on some level. He could definitely see why someone like Sanji would be attracted to her.

The redhead was considering Luffy, attempting to sum up what he was actually offering before she said, "You don't even know me…"

"So?" Luffy laughed. "I can tell you'd be good at it. Plus, Sanji's one of us now, so that makes you family too."

Zoro would have shaken his head at Luffy, but it wasn't worth the effort. Nami didn't look like she bought anything he was saying, but she was being polite about it. "I would be happy to help you out. For a nominal fee, of course," she said. It looked like she was expecting Luffy to balk at the statement.

Instead, Luffy just laughed again and agreed. Nami looked over at Zoro, who—when compared to Usopp and Luffy—came off as the relatively sane one. She gave him a 'Is this guy for real' look.

Zoro shrugged, and then smiled a little fondly. "When the captain makes his mind up about something, it's really hard to change it."

Luffy nodded with the assessment as Usopp finished parking, then darted out of the car. He ran up the staircase taking two at a time and let himself in through the huge double doors. He neither bothered to knock or to shut the door behind him. "Oiii! Sanjiiii!"

The remaining three slid out of the car to follow. Usopp actually seemed vaguely at home in his environment, and for that Zoro was jealous. He straightened his tie, performed the Picard Maneuver on his vest, and walked casually up the stairs in Luffy's wake.

Usopp was either a natural at this sort of thing, or he was a terribly good liar.

Nami was staring up at the building with something that fell short of awe. She also looked like she belonged there, with a professional looking skirt suit over a blouse that was ever so subtly pink. She wore knee high boots to finish off the look.

Suddenly Zoro was very aware of how under dressed he probably was.

He would have been mortified, if he was the type to be concerned about conforming to social norms. With a grin, he slipped into his ugly team USA sweater and joined Nami at the bottom of the stairs.

"I never get tired of seeing this place," Nami said and looked over at Zoro. Her aura of belonging seemed completely different from Usopp's experience or Luffy's absolute lack of caring. Unlike them, Nami looked at the house like someone who intended to own it someday. Or some other place exactly like it.

Zoro nodded like he understood, which wasn't entirely untrue. He understood the words of course. He understood the sentiment. But living in a huge empty mansion where you had to hire people just to keep it clean? Not something he wanted for himself.

Without further comment, he removed his sunglasses and hooked the arm into the top of his partly unbuttoned shirt before heading inside.

They were greeted at the door by a huge woman with even huger hair. The neck line of her cocktail dress plunged low enough for Zoro to see her naval, and she wore more makeup than an 80s hair band. As the woman got closer, she seemed to grow deceptively taller until she was staring down at Zoro with a wide smile. Zoro realised he must be looking at Sanji's friend, Iva.

"How are you feeling, Zoro-boy?" she purred at him by means of greeting.

Zoro simply shrugged. It had only been a few hours since he fell into the lake, but he already wanted to put it behind him. "Never better." Wasn't she the one who nearly died earlier in the week? Sanji's 'Miracle Person'? He should be asking her how she was doing, not the other way around.

Iva looked at him for a long moment before saying, "Vell, come in out of the cold." She kept eyeing him, though, and it made Zoro a little uncomfortable. "Sanji-boy's in the kitchen where it's warm."

Zoro nodded as though he'd just heard good information, and then balked at himself. "Wait, what? Why would I care?" He snapped his mouth shut to cut off any more stupidity that he might sputter out, and turned his head resolutely away to end the line of conversation.

Iva didn't seem to mind the fluster. "Dinner vill not be for some time now. Do make yourself at home." She reached over Zoro's head to accept a glass of wine Inazuma had come over to hand her. "There's more in the pantry," she said before the two of them left Zoro to wander.

Well, that was a weird thing to do. Just invite someone into your giant sprawling house and leave him to find his own way around. No one could possibly blame him when he wound up somewhere on the second or third floor, staring at what looked like family pictures all hung up on the wall.

Upon closer inspection, it was possible that these were all students of Ivankov's. That Bon guy skating with some chick with long blue hair, a dude in pink feathers, Iva and Inazuma—both in women's clothes in that one, though there was another where they were both dressed as men. Iva was far more attractive than Ivankov, and Zoro wondered at the miracles of modern makeup.

Next was one with Bon again. This time he was dressed in a suit and tie with no makeup or sparkles. He looked good, but he didn't look like him. It was weird how—just like Iva—the skater was more suited to the flamboyant than the mundane.

In the picture, Bon had just let go of his partner, who was spinning in the air. She was dressed in a short but flowing white dress. It had a gauzy skirt that flowed out in tatters, tipped in orange and green. She looked like the personification of Spring. Her long blonde hair was falling out of a bun with the force of her spin, and she easily could have been four or feet off the ice. It was incredibly impressive.

And actually kind of sexy. The pair of them together were a class act, and the girl was—

"What are you doing in the basement?"

Zoro nearly jumped out of his shoes as he turned to face the source of the voice. Usopp was standing in a stairwell, watching him. He held up a wireless controller as he walked the rest of the way down the stairs. "Luffy wants to know if you're going to come up and join us."

Zoro nodded, turning nonchalantly away from the wall he'd been staring at. "Mm."

Usopp nodded, forcing Zoro to need to look back at him to find out what his response is. The sniper was distracted by the same picture Zoro had been staring at. He must have noticed how really hot Bon's partner was, too.

"Wow, she looks like she could be Sanji's sister. They could be twins!"

Usopp was laughing to himself, and didn't notice the shiver that suddenly caught Zoro, or the embarrassment that followed. Capitalising on his distraction with the photo, Zoro decided to sneak out before Usopp did notice. "Tell him I'll be up to join you soon. Kick his butt for me in the meantime."

"Aye, aye," Usopp replied softly with a mock salute.

Zoro found the kitchen before he found the room with the—what he imagined was huge—TV. He walked in to the sound of something simmering, and something else sizzling. It smelled amazing in there, and just as Iva promised, it was warm. He instantly remembered the promise of wine, and that was enough to draw him fully into the room.

Considering how many things were cooking in there, it was a shock the room was empty. Or so he thought. As, Zoro strode across the large room towards what he assumed would be the pantry, he caught the sight of a sleeping snow ballerina tucked against one of the ovens. He had his face buried in his arms, his knees curled up to his chest, and was leaning into the heat produced by the oven.

Frowning, thoughts of wine drifted away and were replaced with concern for the idiot. He looked cold. Mind made up, Zoro slipped his arms out of his ugly sweater and knelt next to Sanji. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Zoro leaned forward and began to tuck his sweater around Sanji's body.

He was just about to pull back away when he noticed Sanji was looking at him, and absolutely froze. Neither of them moved for a full minute until Zoro said simply, "You looked cold."

Sanji just watched his face, and Zoro had no idea what was going through his head. "How are you not?"

Zoro shrugged, and that seemed to be the movement that broke the spell. "I probably am. I just don't let myself feel it."

Sanji sat up looking annoyed, forcing Zoro to sit back and give him room to move. "What sort of idiot response is that 'you don't let yourself feel cold'?" The sweater fell down his arm, but he tugged it back into place.

Zoro couldn't remember much of the incident. He remembered falling through the ice. That instant flash of cold. And then nothing else until he was warm inside an ambulance. The fall had been terrifying. Freezing. He would have given anything to not be in his own body, and so he forced his mind away from the situation.

Usopp told him that Sanji had jumped in to save him without hesitation. He said that Sanji knew what he was getting himself into, but that he did it anyway. It sounded like the absolute truth, but there's no way it could have been. No one would have jumped into that lake who had any idea what it going to be like.

"You're one to talk, with your jumping into frozen lakes in the middle of winter. What the Hell were you thinking, anyway?"

Sanji narrowed his eyes at him. "I was thinking that there was no way a shithead like you would be a strong enough swimmer to save himself, so someone else was going to have to do it for him."

"Tsh," Zoro turned his head away and locked his jaw. Sanji was staring at him, waiting for a response, and Zoro could feel it. "What?" he snapped.

"You have a really shitty way of saying thanks, asshole."

Zoro clucked his tongue at Sanji, but didn't look back or give any other sort of acknowledgment. He could see Sanji out of the corner of his eye. The prick was shaking his head at Zoro with a sweet smirk plastered on his stupid face.

"What are you here for?" Sanji asked.

"Booze."

Sanji chuckled. "Ice lakes you can handle, but one dinner with a bunch of socialites, and you're ready to start drinking already?" He was chucking shit. But he was also walking over to what looked like a wine fridge. "White or red?"

"Red."

Sanji nodded, apparently thinking that this was a good call. He returned with a cork screw and a pair of glasses, gesturing for Zoro to sit at a bar on the other side of the galley island. As Zoro complied, Sanji pulled the cork from the bottle and began to fill the glasses. "/Madeira/," Sanji said.

'Said' might have been too weak a descriptor. Sanji's tongue licked the word out of his mouth like a high class prostitute.

"What does that mean?"

"The wine." Sanji watched Zoro.

"Oh."

Sanji apparently realised he didn't know much about wine, so he continued, "It's a good, old wine. Perfect for taking the edge off when dining at a multi-billionaire's family estate."

Zoro nodded while Sanji pushed one glass towards him and kept the other for himself. He didn't have a stool on his side, but he didn't seem to mind.

At some point, Sanji had slipped his arms into the sleeves of Zoro's sweater. They were too long for him, so he'd rolled them up along with his shirt sleeves. The roll cut a fine line of orange in a cuff at his elbows, and somehow suited the look of the sweater. Zoro hadn't noticed Sanji take off his blazer, but it was gone, leaving just shirt and sweater. Somehow, Sanji managed to turn it into a good look.

"Fuck that's an ugly sweater," Zoro said with a sigh, and was secretly delighted to hear a genuine laugh from Sanji.

The Canadian turned and tapped the door to another fridge with his foot. It came open easily, as though Sanji knew just the right way to hit it to get it open. From inside, he grabbed a pie tin and small container of whipped cream.

When he returned to their island, he hopped up on the counter and set the pie on surface in front of them. From somewhere, he produced two forks and handed one to Zoro.

"What's this? Some sort of weird Russian sheep skin thing?"

Sanji blinked at Zoro. Twice. "It's /apple pie/."

Incredulous little shit.

"Try it. Goes good with the wine."

Zoro was uncertain, but it would be entirely too un-American to ignore an offer of apple pie, so he dug in.

Sanji was a genius.

It was quite possibly the most wonderful taste combination he'd ever experienced. Leave it to a Canadian in Russia to pair a Portuguese wine with a European classic just to make an American happy.

When Sanji took some of the cream and mixed that into the flavour tornado they he'd created, Zoro mirrored the move. The whip cream was really good. It certainly wasn't the processed stuff he normally bought to go on top of his pudding cup. Creamy without being too sweet. "What brand is this?"

"What brand is what?" Sanji asked before shoveling a bite into his mouth.

"The whip cream. What brand is it? I'd like to get some at home if I can."

Sanji quirked a brow and then beamed. "You really like it? Thanks! I made it this morning!"

His smile was so bright and innocent. Just pure treasure. It startled Zoro on some level to see Sanji like that. Zoro considered his next words very carefully, ensuring they fell somewhere between another compliment and indifference. "If you can cook like this, then why do you even bother skating?"

"I love to skate," Sanji nodded as he spoke, seemingly understanding exactly what Zoro was asking. "I've always loved to skate. And I always will. But it isn't everything that defines me." He shrugged. "It's sort of something Iva helped me with on the side while she was teaching me how to cook."

Zoro played hockey at the Olympics. And then when he was done playing hockey, he went back home and played hockey for the NHL. In the summer—when there was no hockey—he played street hockey. Or field hockey. Or he watched classic hockey on TV. Sometimes he played hockey based games. Playstation hockey, air hockey. Hell, he even had one of those foosball tables. Except with hockey.

"Well you get it," Sanji said around another bite of the pie. They were going to eat this whole damn pie, and there would be none left for anyone else. "Otherwise you'd be way more upset that Team Canada kicked Team USA's ass on the lake this morning."

Zoro blinked. His team had fallen 2-1 before the ice had broken, but Sanji had been the one making all of the difference. And he wouldn't be there when the full teams actually met. Zoro grinned, "I'm not worried. You won't be there when we face them for real."

Sanji sat up like Zoro had startled him with his words. His expression was thoughtful, and he was blushing a little bit. "Uh…thanks."

Zoro's could feel his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He shoved another bite of pie into his mouth, talking around it like the uncouth clod he was grown to be. "We play better when everyone on the other team knows what they're doing."

Sanji looked severely pissed off at the comment. "What are you saying, asshole!"

Zoro grinned, eyes dancing with glee for having turned the tables on the cook. "You heard me." He scooped up the last of the pie off of what had been unspoken as 'Sanji's side of the pie,' shoveled it into his mouth, and chewed around a smug grin.

Sanji was distracted from his indignant rage by the action. He stared at the empty pie plate like a man who just realised he'd been tricked into letting his guard down.

Then he just completely let the tension float away and pushed himself off the counter to retrieve his blazer. He pulled a pack of smokes from the pocket, slipped one between his lips, and used a match to light it. Once lit, Sanji took a long drag, and blew a steady stream of smoke into one of the vents above the stove. It looked therapeutic.

Zoro just watched him as he did all of this. The man moved like a cat. Not a little house cat, but more like a panther. A panther in… A really ugly sweater. "Fuck that's an ugly sweater," Zoro said before reaching for the bottle of wine to refresh his drink.

Sanji chuckled softly, turning to model with a seemingly practiced pose. "You just don't have the stage presence to carry off something this fashionable."

Zoro clucked his tongue and rolled the wine in his glass. He didn't normally use a glass to drink wine, but this seemed like the type of wine that needed proper breathing to really get the flavour out.

He frowned as his mind drifted back to the game before. He'd nearly died because he lost control of his emotions. Anger had gotten the better of him. If he hadn't gotten so pissed and punched the ice, he wouldn't have fallen knees first into the drink.

"Oi, Cook. About this morning, and what happened between us on the ice? I'd really rather pretend it never did."

Sanji seemed… Zoro didn't know. Quietly emotional about the statement. He didn't know where that emotion was coming from. Probably at the thought of losing such good insult fodder.

"Emotions… were running high." Zoro didn't like talking about emotions, but he needed to acknowledge his mistakes if he was going to learn from them. "And I can say with certainty that it won't happen again. So… If you don't mind, I'd just prefer to not talk about it."

"…Yeah, sure. Of course." Sanji smirked tightly. It looked like he was doing it to mask something else. Weird. "Just a moment of weakness in an emotional situation. You couldn't let something like that happen again."

Well, his words made it sound like he understood, at least. "Exactly." Zoro nodded, watching Sanji and feeling like there was something off about the blond of a sudden. "I don't ever want to deal with the fallout of something like that. Just lucky the press wasn't there…" he grumbled.

That seemed to get Sanji nodding a little more honestly. "There would have been a lot of fallout, with everyone's eyes on these specific games."

Suddenly it was awkward between them, even though Sanji seemed like he understood what Zoro was saying. Not from Zoro's end, but from Sanji's, and Zoro didn't know why. Irritating. And the only way to get to the bottom of it would be to ask, which was something he couldn't bring himself to do.

After a few moments, he decided Sanji must have been imagining just what the press would do with footage of him breaking the ice with his fist. Some of the comments would be good, some would be bad, but all of them would have been at least partly hyped up and inaccurate.

The blond turned his back to Zoro as a timer went off. He walked to a pair of oven mitts and then back to the stove. Zoro wanted to keep watching him cook, but he still needed to kick Luffy's ass at whatever game they were playing. "Hey, I promised Luffy a game."

Sanji didn't turn his focus away from the roast in front of him, where he was doing something with spices. "They're down the hall to the left. Just go through that door," he nodded to the door Zoro had come in. "Take a right, then go straight down the hall and turn left next to the suit of armour."

Zoro watched him a few more beats, then shrugged. He picked up his glass and turned to follow Sanji's instructions; instructions that turned out to be awful and inaccurate and plagued with problems. He went up at least two flights of stairs before determining he was lost.

It seriously wasn't his fault when he ended up finding his way to a great big room that had a great big fireplace and a great big bed. When faced with such a great big invitation for a great big post-eating/pre-dinner nap, it would be almost /rude/ of him not to accept.

It was dark when he was woken up by the sound of someone stoking the fireplace. He peeked one eye open and saw a man in a black suit leaning over the fire. Tall, slender, great ass, blond hair, and a cigarette hanging from his lips. Sanji. "Oi."

Sanji turned around to look at Zoro, and began to remove the borrowed sweater. "Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You always sneak into other people's rooms and so you can have a smoke at the foot of their bed?" Zoro snapped groggily.

Sanji watched as he removed the sweater. He walked to the side of the bed and tossed it onto a chair before he made a point of flicking his cigarette against the ashtray on the night stand. "Non," he said softly before taking a long drag. "Mais, Je do like to smoke before I sleep."

Sanji was climbing onto the bed, and Zoro didn't know what to do about that, so he just laid back and watched. "Have you been drinking?"

"Oui," Sanji said, pulling his tie loose and then sliding it slowly off his neck. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was giving off heat. "~Finished the bottle of wine you left on the counter,~" He said, but Zoro didn't really speak any French so he didn't follow it.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Zoro asked, noticing blues and greens sparkling around his eyes, and a solid line of navy defining them.

"Oui," Sanji said again and reached over to blindly snuff his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Do you always speak in French when you're drunk?" He was kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt as he moved closer, and Zoro was starting to have really mixed feelings about his situation.

"Not always," Sanji said, leaning in close enough that he had to stop working the buttons and instead use his hands to keep himself upright. "~Sometimes I do. But sometimes I find a friend and make my mouth so busy I don't have time to speak in any language at all.~"

Where Zoro was leaning, their lips were almost touching. He had no idea what Sanji was saying, but it sounded sexy as fuck. Sanji must be able to get any girl he wanted with that wicked French tongue. It just poured out of him like honey. Zoro gasped ever so slightly, inhaling just as Sanji was breathing out.

They were getting closer, and Zoro was certain he could taste the wine lingering on Sanji's breath, even though their lips weren't actually touching. He went very still, uncertain of the situation, but content to just breathe Sanji in. He was so light-headed. It felt like the fumes on Sanji's breath were getting him drunk, too.

"Marimo…" Sanji breathed.

Zoro was so distracted by the feel of the word that he didn't even balk at it. "Yeah?" he asked after licking his lips and almost touching Sanji's with his tongue. His heart was in his throat. This was intense. This was amazing. And they weren't even touching.

Sanji dipped in closer, his lips trailing close to but not quite touching Zoro's cheek as he leaned into his ear and whispered, "You're on my side of the bed." Then he pulled back and sat up on his knees, breaking the spell as he moved out of Zoro's personal space. He stretched, and removed his belt, and when he spoke again his tone was back to normal. "I'm willing to share, but you can't have my side."

God dammit. Zoro crossed his arms, refusing to admit to being affected by what was clearly some sort of tease. "What says this is your side of the bed?"

"My stuff." Sanji gestured to the night stand where, aside from the ashtray and a very simple lamp, there was a picture of Sanji as a little kid standing next to Red Leg Zeff.

In the picture, they were both wearing chef costumes—Zoro assumed they were costumes; Sanji couldn't have been more than 6 in the picture—and Zeff had a hand on top of Sanji's head while the later attempted to hit him. Except that he couldn't, because he was too short, and Zeff had him by the forehead. Sanji seemed furious, but Zeff was caught mid-laugh and looked like was having the time of his life.

With a grumble, Zoro abdicated and slid back to the other side. The grumble was silenced when Sanji slipped in under the sheets and settled with his back to Zoro, nuzzling into the warm spot Zoro had vacated.

Poor Zoro was left with nothing but the cold side of the bed. He rolled away from Sanji in irritation, and that was when he noticed the picture of Robin and Nami on the other side of the bed. "Hey, your stuff's over here too!"

"Of course it is, don't be stupid, this is my room."

Why would he… "You just wanted my warm spot?"

"Oui," Sanji yawned, sounding like he was already falling asleep. "S'also closer to the fireplace…"

Well, that wouldn't do. Zoro wasn't about to let himself be toyed with like that. With a grunt, he shifted into Sanji's space. "You're going to steal my heat, I'm going to steal yours," he said in explanation, though Sanji hadn't asked for one.

"Fair," Sanji replied. With a content sigh, he settled back to back with Zoro.

Everything was quiet but for the crackle of the fire. Sanji's breath evened out and became slow and rhythmic. Zoro was convinced Sanji had fallen asleep. He rolled over to look at him, but Sanji's face was turned away. "Oi, you awake?" Zoro asked. When Sanji didn't answer, Zoro slipped an arm over his back and closed his eyes. "Thanks for saving me today, asshole," he whispered, content in the knowledge that Sanji wouldn't hear him.

It was hours later that Zoro was awoken with a second sudden start. This time he was suddenly cold. He realised he had no blankets covering him, but that wasn't normally enough to wake him. It took him a moment of adjusting and remembering where he was before he picked up the sounds of laboured breathing to his right.

Curious, Zoro crawled to the side of the bed to see what was going on. Pale in the moonlight streaming in a window, Sanji was laid out over the pile of blankets that had previously been covering them. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his shirt looked damp with it. His eyes were clenched tight, and his forehead was creased. He was having a hard time breathing.

A nightmare, maybe? Probably a nightmare. But what could a guy like Sanji possibly have nightmares about?

A frown tugged at Zoro's lips, and the American reached out to prod Sanji. When Sanji didn't stir, he lifted his hand to brush Sanji's mop of hair away from his eyes and said softly, "Oi… Idiot. Wake up."

Zoro continued to gently the space between Sanji's eyebrows with the pad of his thumb until the later sat up with a gasp. Zoro didn't know what to do about this new situation, so he just sat back up on the bed and watched to see what moves Sanji would make next.

Sanji was sucking at air like a man who had been drowning. It was an action that that Zoro now had an intimate affinity for recognising. Suspecting there wasn't much he could do to help, Zoro continued to wait for the blond to remember where he was and that he was safe.

When he finally stopped panting, when he finally recovered from his mental torment, Sanji pushed up on shaky legs. He didn't say a word as he crossed the bedroom, and Zoro didn't feel the need to break the silence either.

Sanji slipped into the ensuite without bothering to shut the door. There was a sound of running water, and after a moment he reappeared, silhouetted by the glow from the bathroom behind him. He had a towel in his hand and was drying his face. Only once that was done did he look across the room to where Zoro was watching him patiently from the bed.

Neither one of them said anything. Their relationship was built on making digs at each other, but both were careful not to make them when the other was already down. That made the silence itself some kind of comforting device. Or at least that's how Zoro looked at it.

Sanji finished observing the hockey player at about the same time as he finished drying his hands. He walked over to a huge closet and disappeared inside.

Zoro took that opportunity to roll off the bed, retrieve the blankets, and at least dump them back on the bed even if he hesitated to actually make it. His actions knocked over a picture that was on the nightstand, cracking the glass.

"Shit," he muttered catching Sanji's attention.

The Canadian came back in the room at the sound of the curse. He was wearing a teal button up shirt but had yet to button it or tuck it in, so it hung down framing his body. There was also a black neck tie hanging over his shoulders and waiting to be tied, and a black vest hanging over his arm. Apparently Sanji wasn't planning on going back to sleep.

"What happened?" Sanji asked as he crossed the room to turn on the bed side lamp.

"One of your pictures fell—" Zoro nearly fell over when he picked up the frame to see the hot blonde chick again. "Over," he finished. "I didn't know you had a sister."

Sanji took the picture and set it back on the night stand, face down. "I don't." He didn't elaborate, or leave any room for the conversation to continue. Instead, he picked up his cigarettes and tapped one out of the pack. "You didn't eat dinner last night. You hungry?"

"I could eat."

Sanji lit his cigarette, tossed the spent match in the ashtray, nodded, and then started towards the door. "I'll make sure there's something for you in the kitchen when you decide to get up," he said, and then shut the door so Zoro could have the room back.

Zoro had no idea what that was about, but since Sanji didn't seem to want to discuss it, he let it slide.