Disclaimer: Still don't own One Piece.
AN: The cooks have a special occasion to prepare for... on short notice.
The proceedings went like this: he'd peel and cut onions, potatoes, tomatoes – everything that he'd be told to – and then prepare and arrange them around and within the dishes that the others were making. Then he'd clean the utensils and put them away or start anew. When he was done and had some time left to himself he'd gather up some of the leftover ingredients that the others hadn't used and try to prepare a dish himself, with the old geezer correcting him whenever he happened to pass him by on his way to the other cooking assistants at the Baratie.
They'd opened the restaurant together with the treasure that Zeff had had sitting besides him on that island where- no. He really ought to stop thinking about that. His attention turned back to his hands which had stopped in the midst of peeling the potatoes. The blond settled back in to continue his cooking preparations, his eyes and focus fully on the activity, once more. Oh, he hadn't failed to notice the eyes on his back the moment he stopped paying attention – the old geezer was sure to find something to comment about again soon, he knew – but he turned to ignore them for now.
They'd only become relevant once the old man decided he'd earned himself another bonk to the head (and those hurt, goddammit!).
Business was going well, they'd had to expand their little floating island called Baratie already by the time spring was nearing. Their reputation seemed to be growing and steadily attracting more and more customers to their location. Being busy wasn't bad, per se, though Sanji could really do without the calendar on the wall reminding everyone of exactly what day it was and what day it would be once night had come and gone. Glancing at it every so often – all the more often the closer that day was approaching –, the blond wondered if he ought to tell the old chef.
Forcefully turning his head back to his dish preparation, he pouted. Nah. That geezer had been a pirate before, hadn't he? He wouldn't care about a measly little birthday like his. His shoulders tensed and rose upwards, so he stopped cutting the carrots (oh, he'd gotten himself some carrots to cut, when had he done that?) before he could make a mistake that could cost him.
The eyes at his back never stopped observing the strange behaviour of the young charge that the old cook had picked up in the sea that day, all the more intensely when Sanji declared his dish done when he'd clearly only gotten to the half-way point of preparing it and went to his room in some kind of upset mood. Zeff wondered what was up with him, but for the moment put that out of his mind as he ordered his newly hired staff (they had two underlings now, two new cooks who were learning their craft from him and no time to waste with useless musings) to "get to it, dammit! These dishes don't wash themselves!"
Once all was said and done and Zeff retired to his own room (they had their separate rooms now, a far cry from a smooth-but-hard rock they'd shared not even half a year ago), he made sure to have a quick look into Sanji's, as well. It was when he heard an almost-silent "Happy Birthday" being sung in a young boy's voice, surrounded by tears and sniffles and sounding watery even from where he stood on the other side of the door, that Zeff understood.
The next day, the procedure went like this: a song was sung, candles were blown out and a cake was consumed. They'd had to ask Sanji what his actual age was now, but that was a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. The candles on the cake had formed the word "Sanji" and not paid homage to an unimportant number, after all, so it wasn't as though anyone was embarrassed, no.
The hours of sleep that had been lost in preparation for the party (and it was a party, they'd even gone so far as to lock out the guests that had come knocking, citing a private engagement that had booked the venue, unfortunately, would the gentlemen and ladies like to reserve a table for the next day, perhaps?) wouldn't be mentioned to anyone by Zeff, that was for sure.
AN: written on the same day it was posted, again. I really don't learn, do I? Ah well. At least I like how this one turned out.
