A/N: Beta'd by my wonderful ducky, Ember, again. And I'm sorry, lovelies! I completely flaked on updating here! Just haven't had the spoons for it. I've been over on Ao3 mostly. Eventually it'll be up here and there and DA all at the same time. x.x

26 October - Part 1

Nine times. The most recent appearance of the mossheaded moron made for nine times that he'd passed under Sanji's window. The cook knew that not because he had started looking for him after the sixth time, and not because he was paying attention to the musclebound... hotter than hell... bastard either! He only knew because he was sitting in the window bench behind the curtains enjoying a nice cup of tea and reading! It didn't matter that every time the marimo had gone passed Sanji had to re-read the entire last three pages to make the current section make sense! He was absolutely not drawn to the way those—sinful!—muscles moved under Zoro's—skin tight—bouncer's uniform. Dear god the chill had made his nipples hard! The cook obviously hadn't noticed that, just as he hadn't noticed that the name on the back of his shirt, up near the collar, was Izou Designs.

That was it! He was done! The tea was gone, and he resolutely refused to watch the algaebrain's ass retreat into the darkness for a ninth time! He slammed his book shut, uncaring if he lost the page—he needed to re-read the whole fucking chapter thanks to that meathead—and stormed off to the bathroom to get dressed for bed...

And maybe jack off to the memory of Zoro's physique on display in Caroline's shop.

Again.

Zoro wasn't even aware that he'd passed the apartment building, or had gone under Sanji's window, again letting his mind go blank and his itchy feet take him where they would as he looked for the cook, or at least checked to make sure he'd made it home alright. At times his body would shift into a hunting stance and his mind would sharpen, for a moment; but even the gutter rats knew better than to mess with one of the Sunny Boys, on or off the job. Bad things happened to those who did.

He didn't like admitting he thought so much about Sanji, but he did, because Sanji was in definite danger and under threat. The others could tease and laugh behind his back all they wanted, but Zoro was the security of the Sunny, and he took that very seriously. The crew and all on it were his responsibility to protect—even the Captain. Few knew Luffy was very strictly not allowed to fight outside the ring, and Zoro stepped in to make sure nobody pushed for one. And he refused, outright refused, to neglect that in any form.

But Sanji was especially frustrating. He wouldn't admit there WAS a threat. Physically, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and yet his inaction in response to two clear threats had made it clear to Zoro that he was emotionally or mentally either unable or unwilling to fight back against this particular person. Zoro understood. He did. After he'd been turned over to the foster care system it had been one trial after another with unsuitable homes and broken homes and homes he still couldn't really talk about to Dr. Crocus. He understood not fighting back to keep it from getting worse.

But Sanji had friends to support him, nakama to keep him safe and make sure he had a place to go if he felt threatened or unsafe, if only he would trust them! If only he'd admit the problem!

Zoro's foot bumped a curb and he realized, looking up at the door to a familiar cafe, he was cold and a little thirsty. So he went inside, hearing the bell jingle, and made for the counter.

Maybe Koala had seen the blond idiot.

The bubbly barista looked up and blinked, clearly having been expecting someone else, "Zoro hun! Haven't seen you around in a while. Want your usual?"

They weren't busy, but it really wasn't all that surprising. With Sabo out of town, and the big party for Luffy's fight at the Sunny, most people were already in bed or at least on their way home. As such only a few stragglers, and a couple of the Grey Terminal homeless that needed a warm place to get out of the wind, hung around in the corners of the shop. Even Hack had gone home since it was obvious Koala could handle the shift on her own for the night.

"Yeah," he said softly, leaning on the counter and scratching at one ankle, which was still 'itching'... though at that point it MIGHT have been windburn because of his exposed skin and the night wind. "Sanji kinda left early from the Sunny, I was looking for him and I'm kinda cold, tall, black and strong, and hot, sounds real nice right now. Have you seen Sanji tonight, by the way?"

"No, I haven't." She turned back to the pot she always left sitting specifically for her 'extra dark' regulars. "Thought you might've been him for a sec when you came in, but I actually haven't seen him for a couple days. Not since the D boys left." Pouring with skill only Sanji could duplicate, and even then not with the same kind of flair, she sighed a little, "Thought maybe he'd gone with them until I heard Amalia talking about the party food. The way she was raving, it couldn't have been anybody except Sanji." She came back and plopped the tall cup in the middle of the counter, "Somethin' going on since...?" Her eyes drifted to his hip and her expression fell into sympathy.

He breathed in and wrapped his hands around the cup, ignoring the sting as blood rushed back to his hands. "No... not that I know of. I don't like this... it's not like him to not be social. The man practically thrives on socializing with people, especially women. I don't think I've seen him throw better than a kiss to the knuckles at a woman since... then. Gives me a bad feeling, Koala. Real bad feeling."

"Hmm..." The shorter chestnut-haired woman tilted her head, something on her face, "I wonder about that... but you are right, if he isn't following his normal patterns, no matter what they are, I would definitely say something was up. Have you tried knocking on his door? I understand Franky replaced it didn't he? At least, Usopp mentioned he was going to when he and Kaya were in the other day."

"No, I..." He closed his eyes as the shudder shook him from shoulders to toes and he had to blink rapidly to clear a sheen of tears. "I haven't... set foot on his floor since then. It... I don't know if I even could."

She looked up from wiping down the stainless with a challenging look. "Wouldn't that make all the more reason why you should?"

Roronoa Zoro? Backing down from an obstacle? Wasn't he the one who'd stood on two solid feet and talked her into actually contacting Hack again? She'd been a child when she and the retired fighter had known each other last. Two 'homes for troubled kids' and a shared set of foster parents who'd cared even less for her than they had for Zoro, and she was eighteen when Hack had returned to FBC. He'd been her Koshiro. More than, if they were all honest with each other. Zoro knew that. Move forward, he'd said. So now here she was giving it back to him.

The corners of his mouth tilted up. "Heh. I suppose you've got a point there. And I am worried about the blond idiot."

He rocked from foot to foot, starting to feel them burning, and took a long drink of his coffee before pulling out the necessary bills from his wallet. Battered thing was more duct tape than leather.

"Alright. I'll go there and at least knock. It's late, so I don't wanna wake him. I think he'd kill me if I did," he chuckled.

She smiled at him brightly. "Yeah, I'd wait 'til morning. Wouldn't want Law to come home to you having ruined his hard work after all. Don't think I didn't hear about your eye, Mister!"

He winced. "Damn. Does EVERYONE know I got my eye socket kicked in half?"

"Well it is something of a feat." Leaning her chin on her hands over the counter, she stuck her tongue out so that it wrinkled her nose at the pun.

He laughed softly and stuck his tongue out back at her. "Alright, fair enough. Though in my defense I had no idea he was a Savate user."

"Didja ask?" Her voice did that sing-song thing that meant she knew he hadn't. Then she giggled, and stood back up, "How is it anyway? I don't see much bruising, but you've always healed through those faster than anything else."

"Ah, it's maybe half-knitted now. Here, have a poke," he traced his fingers over the spot where the break was, slowly fitting itself back together. "The really ugly one was the stitches I popped."

She reached out and walked her fingertips along his cheekbone the same way he had and up over his temple with a hum and a nod. "Alright, lemme see the other one." Her other hand on her hip. "Somebody's gotta watch out for you boys when Law's out of town."

He snickered, but put his coffee down and obligingly hiked up his shirt almost to his shoulders to let her get a good look at it. The stitches were out (at LAST) and it was healing pretty well now. As long as he didn't overstress it.

She still poked at it. Deliberately where she knew he was ticklish to watch him jump, and smirked impishly. "Suppose that deserves some praise that you actually finally let it heal."

"Well I haven't picked a fight with the cook, and Luffy's outta town, plus Franky and Chopper put me on... housemedicalarrestagain," he mumbled, crossing his hands over his chest once his shirt was back where it belonged.

Koala outright cackled, making several of the folks across the shop look up in confusion. Then she poked his shoulder, "Serves you right! Making Lawly have to stitch you up three times in the same week!" Then she winked, "Not that it's stopped you from catching attention. Iva was in yesterday going on about Caroline's new project. Some musclebound hunk she had put up on display in her window for everyone and their mother to see? Hmm?"

"Iiiii may or may not have boasted I don't blush," he admitted with a sideways little grin. "The suit, though, ngh, I'll be paying it off for a year but it's so fucking worth it Koala! Have you seen it? It's the last thing in the catalogue."

"I haven't. I don't get out there much." The barista snickered, finally moving back to pick up where she left off in her cleaning, "But it's one of Inazuma's designs. They always have excellent taste."

"They do. Really, really really they do."

Moving through the aisle between coffee machines and pastry case, Koala subtly shifted the counter door open, and started off towards the back with an implicit invitation for Zoro to follow her.

"So, how'd the fight go anyway? I couldn't get the box to pick it up here."

"Ah, It was... there were a few unexpected events," he said evenly as he followed her easily, snatching up his coffee on the way because dammit he was still cold.

The mop bucket and a sturdier version than she usually used appeared in front of him, the barista herself further down the shelves opening a box. "Complications?"

"You uh, you could say that," he chuckled as he took the mop and bucket. "It's all over Youtube a hundred times over. Law... got his hands on Hogback."

"Oh my God! No!" She dropped a bag of beans, eyes wide. "Well that certainly explains Vin's story from earlier. She was saying something about someone pissing their pants on camera and I couldn't catch who or what she was talking about because that was when Locke, you remember him right? Skinny guy from GT, sounds like Deadpool. He about took a nosedive off the fence out front into traffic, and I swear, Zoro, I am going to end up white haired from shock one of these days."

She was gesturing with the retrieved coffee beans like it was a weapon.

He shrugged. "Sorry? He didn't skin him alive on camera, Shanks and Jinbe got him first. But he would have… after the comment he made. Even Luffy slammed into the cage bars hard enough to send Hogback flying. It was a spectacular match, Koala... but a bad fucking day. Teach was there. At the match."

She didn't actually say anything to that, but the bag in her hands split open.

"Yeah. Law and Sabo both blocked him off but..." His mouth was hard as he twiddled with the mop handle and looked to the side. "He outright challenged Luffy in particular. Called him out to be the one Teach'll be against."

"We'll just have to hope that Bonney wins." Her voice was tight, and she knelt stiffly to scoop up the fallen coffee. "It's not that much of a long shot I don't think. Nami knows better than I do though. We... can hope... right?" She looked up, worried deeply. "Could you see? How he was?"

"He was almost knee-deep in a panic attack and physically frozen. I couldn't see much else, but Sabo almost had to carry him out of the arena ringside," Zoro relayed softly, his knuckles tight on the mop.

"Fuck." Koala's hands were still shaking as she stood back up. "How are they gonna handle the final? I mean, we can hope all we want, but if he wins... Luffy's gonna... and then... Zoro what do we do!? We can't pack up the whole goddamn Sunny and go with them! Even if we do have all winter to plan for it!"

"I think we might just have to trust them and hope. Outside interference could throw the whole tournament. And that's if someone doesn't start calling for Luffy to drop or objecting to their foursome. They wound up exposing themselves because if they hadn't come together all at once at least one person might have died on the ringside today."

"I believe it." She gave a shiver. "You don't think they'll find out about..."

"They might. Hogback knew. That's what set all four of them off so badly."

"Fuck."

Unable to make any more conversation about it, her mind running in circles over the fact that everything was blown wide open, Koala focused on gathering what she needed to restock for the next day. The silence fell comfortably around the two of them, both fully aware that should they need to say something they could. A few of the stragglers came up for refills and as soon as they left, she locked the door. Hack would understand closing up an hour early. Truthfully, the little woman who watched over them all wanted to go home, curl up in her bed and listen to her platonic life-partner snoring next to her until she fell asleep.

And it showed in how she moved about the store while Zoro mopped.

Zoro made the job as quick as possible, then put it away and pressed the keys into her hands. "Go home. Get some sleep. Nothing we can do will change it, so we have to focus on what we can do. And that means I'll go pound Sanji's door in the morning. Promise."

Koala nodded, walking with him to the door. She flipped off the lights, locked the building, and then gave him a huge hug. "You need me to drop you off?"

He shook his head. "The walk'll be better for me. Maybe I'll catch somebody lurking."

"Alright. Take care, 'Ro. And you need to come by more often!" She punched him lightly. "Don't get to see your mug enough anymore."

He smiled a little lopsidedly. "I'll drag the cook in. Then maybe your shop will stop shifting blocks."

"But then where would the fun in finding it be?" She giggled and gave him a wave over her shoulder, walking to her car.

He had to laugh at that one and finally turned toward his apartment, feet no longer itching. Guess this was what he needed.

Arriving back at the apartment building took far less time than it should have, given Zoro's memory of how long it took to get to the coffee shop, and he paused for a moment. His eyes found Sanji's floor. All it took was a little mental calculation to land on the cook's window. There was a book and a mug just barely visible from his vantage point on the steps. Either his target had been there all along, which was possible considering the infuriating way he slipped by undetected, or he'd at least gotten in while Zoro was out. He couldn't be sure, but he was fairly certain the personal items hadn't been here the first couple of times his feet had brought him there. After round four, he'd stopped looking up for signs of life, and as all of those times, the windows were dark around the edges.

With a huff, because the wind was beginning to bite into his neck, he hunched his shoulders and stomped off to bed, not noticing the figure on the staircase just above the first landing.

The silent blond had nearly dropped his basket of laundry in his haste to get up the stairs. Discovering one's PJs were filthy and in need of washing right before bed was bad enough, but nearly being caught by his co-worker—the co-worker he fought with most, the co-worker that had no clue about his biology problem, the co-worker who had so horribly misgendered him during their second conversation—was far, far worse. His heart was still pounding, and beneath the spaghetti strap shirt he'd thrown on because he thought he'd be the only one in the laundry room at that hour his chest heaved with his breath. Though he refused to acknowledge that it was at all because of having been replaying that slow turn around the marimo did with the sun making his skin look like bronze.

Once he heard the cat-like man settle into his bed and the door close, Sanji finally was able to gather up his clothes again to finish climbing the steps.

He didn't get any sleep though. His mind kept supplying the question of 'what if he'd let Zoro catch him?' What would the mosshead have done? What would he have done? Barefoot, pyjama pants, tank top that belonged on another person—not the cook. Sanji the cook was tall, strong, sharp-tempered, and a ladies' man! But… his mind kept asking, what about Samantha?

So noon found him in the kitchen of the Sunny, playing with food—in spite of the fact that they weren't actually open to the public because it was Sunday. He had five or six different recipes he wanted to practice, and knew that at least somebody would be around eventually to play guinea pig. By the time they started showing up, he had the dishes figured out to the point that he knew he could pull them off without needing to think first.

If Nami had been surprised to see him when she came in the ginger-haired manager didn't comment on it. She just grabbed her coffee, nodded at him, and disappeared into her office. Usopp and Chopper came next since they were house sitting for the D boys while they were on tour, but both seemed to follow Nami's example, leaving him to his own devices. It made for a very peaceful morning.

Sanji's tranquility abruptly came to a disrupted head when the door of the kitchen banged open half an hour after the coffee was ready. He glared at the man in the doorway, his hand tight on the potato he'd been about to peel, and if he'd been raised by any other man, he might have thrown it at the demanding mosshead. The green—sexy—asshole should have counted his lucky stars that the cook was more wary of his father's heavy pegleg than any retribution the marimo could dish out. The Old Man would probably skin him if he wasted food. So, he just growled low, his knuckles white around the innocent vegetable.

Zoro growled back, voice a dark rumble. "You have been avoiding me all fucking morning, Cook! I even pounded on your damned door for an hour before coming here! How am I supposed to have a fucking conversation if you won't stand still long enough to talk?!"

"I'm a cook, idiot! If I don't move around the fucking kitchen, shit gets burned! Why do you even want to talk to me anyway!?" Throwing that potato was sounding more tempting by the minute.

"Because you—" the bouncer paused, lowered his voice, and stepped further into the kitchen. "Because you sure's hell don't wanna talk about what needs to be talked about but this talk HAS to happen otherwise it endangers the whole of the Sunny," he said in a more discreet tone, mouth tight.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sanji scowled harder, putting the spud down before it really did become a weapon, and he turned to move further into the kitchen, to keep the distance between them. "There is nothing jeopardizing the Sunny. Franky's new security system is there for that."

"The fucker who got into the Sunny and shoved your chef's knife into your door knew where you work and where you live, which makes all of us vulnerable," Zoro snapped, shoulders tight.

"And Franky made sure that can't happen anymore. Drop it!" The blond skirted the dish machine, heading for the kitchen door now that that the marimo wasn't filling it. "There's nothing to talk about, mosshead."

So, the marimo blocked it again. "Yes, there is. Franky can't protect every inch between the Sunny and our various residences. It just doesn't work. There is a danger out there and you've got a target on your back "

"Get out of my way, asshole." The inch in height difference had never felt so far as it did in that moment.

"No." There was a part of Zoro's mind that felt guilty even to say it, but there was a wave of angry frustration rising in his gut that muffled it. "Just because you won't admit the problem doesn't mean it isn't fucking there."

What?! Sanji froze, backing up slightly. His mouth was dry suddenly, but he covered it with a deeper glare, "You tryin' to look down on me, mosshead? Thought I proved my first day I could kick your ass, and keep going! Need me to re-break your eye socket?"

Zoro felt his body inclining forward though he had never consciously decided to do so. "This is not about you and if you can or cannot take care of yourself. This is about whoever the fuck came into your kitchen and broke your favorite knife, then decided he was FUCKING allowed to come into MY FUCKING HOME, take MY KATANA from her revered spot where she got her well-deserved rest AND MOTHERFUCKING SHATTER HER AGAINST YOUR DOOR! This is about that fucking murderer! YOU are not fucking taking care of any of it if he had the fucking audacity to threaten you twice and KILL MY PARTNER!"

He hadn't meant to start yelling, but once he did he couldn't seem to help himself. He couldn't help the breaks and strains in his voice either. He still hadn't managed to build her a shrine he felt truly honored her.

Fuck! Now he was on the retreat! The blond inched backwards with every word, feeling his hands trying to come up to his chest, his breath short.

"I-I have taken care of it! I can't give you back what was stolen! Just trust me it-it won't happen again! I know how to deal with it! It doesn't need to include anybody else! It shouldn't have included anyone else in the first place, but you wouldn't BACK OFF! I told you to leave me alone! I didn't need your apology and I don't want you getting any further into this than you already are! I'M HANDLING IT!"

Once they were far enough from the door, Sanji cut to the side and ducked under Zoro's arm. As a Savate user heavy on offense he shouldn't have been able to skirt past like that, his whole body language was wrong, and rather than advancing as he had during their first two fights, the blond was avoiding touching the bulkier man at all. He escaped into the dining room, around the bar, and into the corner between the door and the wall before Zoro caught up with him.

"You are NOT fucking handling it! You're avoiding the problem, or rather doing what exactly the fucker threatening you wants! Koala told me she hasn't seen you since that day, and nobody else has seen you ANYWHERE around the city! Not even shopping for fucking groceries! And I became deeply involved the second somebody touched my swords! No I don't expect you to be able to fix her and she could never be replaced, I wouldn't ask you to try! But somebody fucking came in and used my sword to threaten YOU and I will not stop until I have that fucker's vertebrae are spurting blood between my fingers!"

He had his teeth bared and he had gone completely predatory, chasing, cornering, his metaphorical claws out to prevent Sanji's escape. In respect to Sanji's wishes he'd been backing down and letting sleeping dogs lie. But they had gone too far, and the wound was still too fresh: this wasn't just hurting Sanji anymore, and he refused to let him pretend it wasn't a problem now.

Too far, too close, too loud, too angry! The blond's hips tensed, his hands pressed hard against the wall behind him. Talking in this situation never solved anything, the only thing he'd ever been able to do when dealing with someone bigger than him, stronger than him, faster than him in this situation was use their advantages against him. His eyes darted to the floor, then back to Zoro's eyes in a nanosecond, and he inhaled. There was a small sound of preparation and then his legs were wrapped around the marimo's waist twisting with a solid shove towards the bar itself.

"AUGH!" That one was entirely made of pain as both Zoro's hipbones were clenched in that powerful hold and he found his vision going a little fuzzy as he stumbled back toward the bar, reaching behind him to get a grip… if he could get a grip on the counter, he could lift his body and use his superior weight to fall on Sanji, bend him in half, force him to let go.

"Do us both a fucking favor, mossy shit for brains, and just. Let. Go!" Sanji growled pushing off from the wall in an attempt to do the same thing.

The problem was Zoro did have a definite advantage in the weight department... especially lately.

The marimo snarled, the pain digging into the part of his brain that had been sharpened with training with Mihawk, and he lifted his body on his arms, taking away Sanji's connection to the wall and then slamming himself down to pinch him and make him let go.

"NGH!"

The blond's back cracked against the hard wood, and a flail of arms sent an entire row of tumblers to the floor in a shattering crash of glass. Instinctively Sanji bucked his hips, trying to kick up, but all it did was grind his groin against Zoro's. And while the bulge in his dress slacks was made of silicon, the flesh underneath it wasn't. The slip of harness and pull of straps across that area made his whole body jump away from the contact, eyes wide, and color high on his cheeks. Anger should not have that kind of reaction, fucking damnit!

That... didn't feel right. Something was... slipping against him? In his confusion, he let up the pressure, looking down to where it felt wrong. Sure, there was a bulge there where he expected one, given Sanji's hips were right up against his—and the bulge was sliding off to the side? What the hell?

That hesitation was all the cook needed to get his knee up into the space between them, and he shoved! His other heel on the edge of the bar sent his hips over his head and into a backflip over the bartop—onto the glass below but—away from Zoro.

He waited only a moment to scream, "JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE GODDAMN ASSHOLE!"

Then he bolted for the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. A second later something loud, and heavy, crashed against the wall across the entrance with the shudder of having been kicked across the small room.

Zoro growled. "WHEN THE FUCKER WHO KILLED YUBASHIRI IS IN SMOKER'S HOLDING CELLS I'LL LEAVE YOU ALONE! IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT YOU ANYMORE! AND BESIDES THAT HOW ARE WE FUCKING SUPPOSED TO SUPPORT YOU IF YOU WON'T LET US KNOW ANYTHING!?"

"Just go away, Marimo." Muffled through whatever it was against the door—probably the dish machine from the way the wall had shuddered—and the door itself, the distance still couldn't muffle the way the words wobbled.

Snarling and pulling at his own hair again, Zoro stalked out of the Sunny entirely. He wouldn't be coherent until he'd fought Kuina's shadow a few dozen times and gone through all his katas with his three remaining swords.

After a little time, there came a soft, timid knock on the door.

"Dinner's going to be a little late, I'm sorry." Came the response, though there had been absolute silence since Zoro stalked off.

"That's, uh… Not what I'm worried about, Sanji," the tech wizard's meek voice came just barely through the barrier. "I just... wanted to let you know that any time you want to talk, I've got two good ears. I know Zoro can be pig-headed and frustrating at his best, and lately he hasn't... exactly been his best," he trailed off weakly.

"It's fine." The words sounded strangled, pitched oddly. "I never expected anything from an asshole like that anyway. I've known enough of them. I was stupid to think he was different."

He leaned on the door; his slight weight not nearly enough to move it or rather what was behind it. "He's not... really like that. He... Yubashiri was a family heirloom, handed down through the generations from swordsmaster to student. She was his most valued connection to the foster father that stuck, not to mention he loved her spirit all by herself. He would do... anything to get his hands on the one who killed her. Including harass his own nakama. He can't help it. The prints he lifted, and the other evidence, came to nothing. His only lead on whoever it was is you."

"I know. I... I saw them. Him and-and the other guy. Mi-something. Sorry. My memory is shit for that kind of thing. I know... it doesn't matter. It won't happen again. I... I just have to obey the rules." Sanji hadn't meant to let that slip, but he was beyond caring. The heavy thing slid out of the way of the door, and there was a small crash, like a bucket being tripped over. "L-let Franky know I'm sorry...?"

"Ah, he knows. It'll be alright as long as we don't have to buy a new one. And Mihawk's the name you're thinking of. That's the guy I mean… the foster father that stuck." He was quiet for a minute, rolling that slip of Sanji's on his tongue. "...can I come in?"

"It's kind of a mess... the Old Man would kill me if he saw it." The cook's voice dropped such that he probably didn't mean for the rest of that to be heard.

"That's okay. I help Franky, remember? I can get started on the tinkering."

"...alright."

Sanji hadn't been kidding. The dish machine—because that was what had been across the door—was in four pieces, the heaviest of which had been shoved to the side so the door could at least open. There was a solid imprint of the blond's shoe in the metal of the casing, and there was water everywhere. Pots and a rack of utensils that had been in the machine at the time were scattered across the floor, two of the pans dented beyond repair. There was also, under the scent of soap and spices, the scent of sick.

As for the cook himself, he was stripped down to his shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and drenched such that the light blue cotton was see-through. He figured he was about to be fired for destroying their kitchen anyway, so what did it matter if the sharpshooter knew? Food and whatever else that had been in the machine when he kicked it was splattered all over his left leg, and he as mopping half-heartedly with the air of a dead man walking.

Usopp let out a slow whistle and picked up the smallest piece—the one exploded outward with the footprint in it.

"Hooo boy. Good thing we have some spare sheet metal from the last project. Yeah... I think Franky's gonna have to build a new one," he chuckled a little weakly and pushed another scrap to the side with his foot. "Ah well, you can tell him any bells and whistles you want it to have so he can make one that's bigger and better."

He then made his way over to the spot behind where the dish machine had been and did something back there that brought the leaking water to a halt.

"Good thing we had the shutoff valves back here or we might have had to cut the building's water and that would have sucked."

He didn't comment on the clearly visible binder and judging by the way he was talking, he expected no, or minor, repercussions from this.

"It... wasn't supposed to go like this. I... should just go. Before I cause you guys any more trouble." Sanji gripped the mop handle tighter, "Even if Miss Nami doesn't fire me, Zoro's never going to leave me alone about Pearl. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I get a job, start to make my way without him, and forget to follow the rules. Didn't think it was that bad this time. At least he doesn't know about Law yet. Pearl is sneaky but he's stupid. He never watches Koala's. Guess it's only a matter of time though... s'why I stopped going. I don't want her caught in this. Don't want anyone caught in it. It's my problem. It's my fault. I broke the rules." The tone of the cook's voice made it clear he wasn't aware he was babbling.

"Sanji... Sanji." The sharpshooter gently touched his elbow to get his attention, to focus him. "Sanji, even if you were to leave the Sunny, we'll simply follow you. You're family now, Sanji. You're part of the crew. Luffy picked you himself; and trust us, his instinct is never wrong. And whoever is giving you rules that hurt the people around you, that can get people 'caught' in it... this person is not good for you. We're willing to protect you, Sanji. But you have to let us. We're not scared of him, or Pearl. We'll hide you if that's what you need. But we can't help until you let us in and allow us to. And Zoro...? Zoro can't stand it. He can't stand seeing a nakama in pain. It's just who he is. So you're right about not leaving you alone. But instead of leaving, why don't you just kick his head in a couple more times?"

He gave him a wry little smile.

"Might knock some of the anger up there loose."

The cook shook his head, "He won't listen to me. I was... the first day he saw through all of this. I know he did. Fighting with him gets me nowhere. And—"

He jumped about a foot when his pocket went off—DING DONG!—and a completely unconscious whimper escaped his throat.

"I... I... I gotta..."

DING DONG!

"He's gonna be..."

DING DONG!

"I just can't! I'm sorry!" Sanji was in tears, overwhelmed, oversensitive, exhausted, and every time his phone went off he flinched like he was shocked.

Usopp considered for a minute or two. Then he held out his hand. "Sanji, can I have your phone?"

"W-why?! Wh-what are you gonna do? You can't answer him! He'll know!"

"I'm not going to answer him. I'm going to do what I do best. I'm going to lie. But I need his number to do it."

"Nonononono!" The mop fell to the floor and Sanji was clutching his phone to his chest protectively. "What are you gonna tell him? You can't! He'll know! He knows everything!"

"I'm gonna tell him you have been assaulted by a coworker. Which you have. He doesn't know anything. Whatever spy he's got, I'll take care of."

"Trust me, he already knows. It's why he's texting me. Just... just lemme handle it... please? I know how to talk to him. Please?"

Usopp regarded him calmly, then nodded. "This time, you handle him. Then you tell me the names and descriptions of any spies you know about. Neither Franky nor I am about to tolerate anyone spying on us or you."

Looking between the dark man and his phone a few times, Sanji nodded his head. He wasn't happy about it, but if it kept his job...

Then he hunched over the phone, typing with both thumbs and thanking God for autocorrect when his grip slipped. Whoever-he-was responded back a couple of times, and though the techie couldn't read what was being said, he saw how it affected the blond he'd come to think of us his nakama. Sanji's shoulders were tight, his spine curled defensively, his elbows tucked in submissively, and worst of all he stood with his feet turned slightly pigeon-toed. For a Savate user, there was no worse stance to start from, as all of his balance was on the outer most edges of his heels and toes. Any move he tried to make from that position would end in him taking a hit first, and Usopp had sparred with Luffy enough to know that the difference between winning and losing a match was quite literally who could get their hit off first.

Usopp filed this all away, quietly, because if he didn't make himself be quiet he'd blab to Zoro or someone just to destroy the person on the other end and break their hold on Sanji. But Sanji wasn't ready for that. So he took notes down instead, waiting patiently.

The cook looked up from his phone, shivering, "H-he wants to talk to me, um... for a bit. Should I just write it down? The stuff about Pearl?"

"Yes. And when he's done talking you can talk to me and I'll make up an artist's sketch so we can scope him out when he's nearby."

"Okay." Sanji nodded, and moved quickly over to his soaked jacket. Shrugging into it, he hovered near the door, and bit his lip, "I'm sorry. Again. For... everything."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. Not even Yubashiri. Only Pearl can pay for that one. I'm sure nobody TOLD him to go to the basement and steal a katana. Just let us help you, Sanji. That's all we want."

The blond was halfway out the door before his words drifted back, "People who help me end up dead."

Then he was gone through the bar and out into the cool fall afternoon where everything was too bright, his body hurt, and his heart felt like it was in a million pieces. He wandered around the side of the building, hoping to have some time to himself. That Person didn't really want to talk to him. In truth, He'd brushed Sanji's excuses off like they meant nothing. He hadn't even asked if the blond was okay. Sanji had expected it though, he was still in trouble. He needed to go out looking the way That Person wanted him to a few more times before He'd forgive him. His gut churned from having lied to Usopp like that, but that was empty, having purged itself as soon as the adrenaline from his fight with Zoro wore off.

He leaned against the side of the bar, wondering why he didn't just go home. No matter what Usopp said, Nami was sure to fire him. The Old Man had nearly thrown him off the Baratie when he'd done something similar to the ship that had been his home for most of his life. He let his head fall back against the bricks.

"Why were you so nice to Baby, but you hate me?"