Two hours had passed, and Zoro was starting to worry. Still sitting on one of Sanji's bar stools, he drummed his fingers on the counter top nervously.

Needless to say, nothing in the last few hours had gone as he'd planned. Not that he'd planned on trying to kiss the cook so soon, but admittedly he had entertained ideas of building some sort of...relationship? Was that what he wanted with this guy?

Zoro ran a frustrated hand through soft, green spikes, and sighed.

"Not that it matters." he thought miserably.

The cook's horror-stricken reaction had wiped any ideas of seducing the man right out of Zoro's brain. For now anyway.

At the memory of Sanji's expression, Zoro grimaced. Clearly, Zoro had completely misread the cook's actions - what he had mistaken for sparks and sexual tension was just anger and...well, regular old tension. Great.

And now, Zoro had no idea what to do. The cook had left without his phone, no mention of where he was going, or hoe long he was going to be! What the hell did he expect him to do?!

Zoro wasn't angry (well, maybe a little frustrated, but with himself more than Sanji), but he was growing increasingly worried. Worried that Sanji wasn't coming back. Worried that he'd pushed the cook over the edge, right when he didn't it. Worried Sanji had left him...

Zoro shook his head furiously. Would the cook do that?

Zoro's mind was processing thoughts at a million miles an hour. Sure, the tow men weren't exactly best buds or anything, and their 'relationship' was built on a foundation of embarrassment, stress, and Zeff's insistence, but that...was neither here or there to Zoro.

If Sanji didn't come back...

Just as Zoro was killing himself with this train of thoughts, there came a light, almost nervous knock, on the door.

For a moment, Zoro was unsure what to do. It wasn't his apartment; it didn't seem right to answer Sanji's door for him. Besides, it'd probably just give rise to unwanted questions from whoever was on the other side.

The knock came again, slightly louder this time, yet more hesitant. Zoro rolled his eyes, giving in to his curiosity. He slid off the bar stool, and strode over to the door, pulling it open.

Sanji tried not to blush when the door opened, and dark, curious eyes settled on his own. His neck felt hot with embarrassment just thinking about the marimo, but he pushed it down. He was a man dammit!

"Uh...hey," he mumbled, smiling awkwardly as Zoro's eyes widened at seeing the blond knocking on his own front door,"I left my key here...sorry."

Sanji laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. As if being with Zoro wasn't uncomfortable enough, his own stupidity at having left without his key burned hot in his cheeks. Damn, Zoro must think he was such an idiot.

The cook dared to glance up at the other man's face, who was still standing in the door frame. He had hoped Zoro would just let him in without a word...but it looked like he wasn't so fortunate.

Zoro, still sporting the expression of a stunned infant, let his eyes just stare at the blond for a moment.

"I didn't know if you were gonna come back here, shit-cook."

Reacting out of habit, Sanji felt his usual acerbic words rise to his lips.

"Why the hell wouldn't I come back to my own apartmnent, mosshead?"

Zoro just smiled. A wide, toothy, beaming smile, so unlike Zoro that it left the cook completely unsure how to react.

The marimo, meanwhile, couldn't help it. He was just so damn happy.

The next two days passed in a blur. Zoro and Sanji lived and breathed the task they had ahead - every waking moment in Sanji's head was spent thinking about Zoro, the Baratie, Alastair, and the fate of his father's restaurant.

They had so little time, and it took everything the cook had in terms of self-restraint not to crack under such pressure. He didn't want to admit it, but there was something about the fact that Zoro was there with him that made it seem so much more possible. Hell, the guy had even camped out on his couch, refusing to go home to bed, claiming it would lose them time. It didn't take too much persuasion from Zoro to get Sanji to let him stay.

Lying in his bed after a long, hard day of practising and teaching, the cook felt his heart warm slightly as the marimo crossed his mind for the millionth time. There was something so comforting in the way they could bicker like cat and dog, and then fall back into normal conversation at the drop of a hat; the way Sanji didn't have to pretend about anything around Zoro; the way the marimo's eyes always seemed so emphatic when they were looking at him...

"The idiot's really been working his ass off..." Sanji conceded, adjusting his position to nestle himself further underneath the covers.

He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander over the way Zoro had listened to all his advice with keen interest. The way he had grabbed three plates with a look of determination, and refused to give them back to the cook with a childish pout. The way he had woken Sanji up yesterday with an exited tug of his sleeve, hauled him out of bed at 5 in the morning, and proudly waltzed round the room brandishing the bowls up his arm...

Something coiled in Sanji's gut as Zoro's expression settled on his face in his memory. The marimo was trying so hard...doing everything he could to become the best in such a short amount of time...Sanji couldn't help but think that it wasn't just because Zoro wanted to show how good he was at adapting. He couldn't help but think that Zoro was doing this for him.

"Damn bastard..." Sanji muttered, a blush resting on his cheeks as the butterflies raged away in his chest. He fell asleep, his thoughts of the marimo never leaving.

A.N/ Ok, so I know this chapter is short, but it's the final little bit before a scene change, and I'd kinda like to start a fresh chapter with that ^^ which I will do soon. I hope (bear with me people!). ^^' I appreciate the patience of my lovely, lovely readers! Really I do.

Oh, and thank you so much for the 100+ reviews - they make me so unbelievably happy~