Merryshipping FTW. (266 words, PG rating.)
A Serious Question
It started innocently enough. Everyone had a few drinks after dinner, and Sanji and Zoro had a few more after the others left the galley. They got to talking, just a bit drunkenly, about things that weren't really important. A question was posed. A discussion began, which quickly morphed into an argument.
It was obvious that neither of the two could answer the question and that an objective opinion was needed, so they brought in a third party. First, they asked Luffy.
"I dunno," the captain said, with a shrug and smile, and bounced off to get himself into trouble. So they took it to Usopp instead.
"I, um, I don't, uh, I have watch in two minutes I should go bye," was the marksman's reply as he rushed out the door in a panic. Thwarted again, they went to Nami.
"That's easy," the navigator answered blithely, not even bothering to look up from her magazine. "Zoro is."
"Him?!" Sanji roared, chivalry momentarily forgotten in an attack of shocked rage. The swordsman smirked triumphantly, because of course he had known all along that this was the obvious answer, and because he had one up on the chef.
"Sure," Nami said with a shrug, staring at Sanji as if she had no idea why he could possibly be so upset. "You try too hard."
Sanji slumped against the railing, defeated and wondering where he had gone wrong. Zoro crossed his arms and looked down at his opponent, wearing an expression so smug that it could have peeled the paint from walls. "Told you I'm a better kisser."