Copyright: One Piece and its characters © Eiichiro Oda. Lyrics © Liz Phair. The only copyright I stake is intellectual. Thank you, drive through.
Notes/Spoilers: Miraculously, the wayward pastry from the first story flew all the way across the ship. No, I don't know how it happened, either.
And to answer a question I've gotten more than once: Yes, I do plan to write multi-chaptered stories. Oneshots and drabbles are more productive for me as a rule, as they require less time.
Re-uploaded, errors corrected; my thanks to dethorats for acting as unofficial spelling police.
To get what you wanted
Without flirting.
--Liz Phair, Go, Speed Racer
Under the peaceful warmth of midday sun, Zoro slept soundly in a bed of golden-white sand. It had been a wonder to find the little island, teeming with food and replete with beer. There was likely even somewhere suitable for training. But all of that would have to come later, after his nap.
Yes, indeed. Back to sleeping. It was shaping up to be his greatest nap in a long while. Warm sand, warm sun, cool water lapping at his head.
His head? The water shouldn't be lapping at his head. Lapping at his feet, perhaps, but not his head. He didn't remember laying head-first near the water. That meant the tide must have arrived, and, deductive reasoning told him, if he couldn't wake himself up, he would soon be napping underwater.
Oh, well. He wasn't going to pass up a good nap over something trivial, like drowning. And the water was warm. It smelled kind of pleasant, too. Like vanilla and sandalwood. Odd water, that.
Wait... water wasn't supposed to smell like sandalwood. And he was fairly sure that he wasn't supposed to sleep through drowning, either. That couldn't be beneficial to his training. Something was definitely up.
Upon that realization, the information became too much for his subconscious to deal with, and the familiar upward woosh told Zoro that he had probably been dreaming the entire thing.
Well, damn. No island. No beer. He wasn't sure that he wanted to open his eyes now, just to spite his subconscious for waking him up.
Strangely enough, the lapping water had followed him. Why couldn't the beer have come instead? It really wasn't fair. He cracked an eye open to hope against hope that some nice someone had lain a mug of something alcoholic nearby.
The entire world was red. And it smelled like sandalwood. But this time, he was awake. At least, he was pretty sure he was awake. This was getting to be terribly confusing. Dismissing the fog and assessing the situation, he realized that the world had large buttons and a fair thread count.
Pushing Luffy off of him, he croaked, "what in the hell are you doing?"
"You had frosting on your forehead," answered Luffy, who leaned back to sit on his legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. "Sanji made cakes, and I made a mess of them. I've been cleaning up the mess," he clarified with a large grin.
Putting two and two together, the telltale wetness on his temple completed the picture. Rather than ask for further explanation, Zoro let it go. Strange things simply happened aboard the Going Merry.
End.