It had been several days since any of his crew mates has last spoken to him. He felt a distant heartache whenever he watched Nami-san spot him, and then nervously back out of whichever room he was in. He would have to make it up to His Love Goddess soon, but for now, the constant state of irritation and pain in which he now lived distracted him from making any such immediate effort.

It had been twenty-nine long, excruciating, long, painful, long days since he had made that stupid ass bet with that stupid ass Zoro.

God, he hated him. Hated him with every ounce of bodily fluid he had. No. MORE.

He wanted to spit in rage, but the constant throbbing in his jaw deterred the action. In another one of his more brilliant moments, Sanji had decided to substitute candy for cigarettes in the hope of curbing his cravings. It had weakly worked for the first few weeks, but now.....the stupid shit that happened to him....

He had a cavity.

It would be another couple of days before they would hit the next port so that Sanji could seek out a dentist to help. So, he had no cigarettes, the thought of candy made him nauseous, and he had a toothache. Someone needed to die, and soon. Fortunately, he had already made a pre-corpse choice.

However, it had been at least two weeks since he had more than a sideways glimpse of Zoro. The fucker had proved uncommonly stealth lately, managing to always be where Sanji was not. Being unable to vent his anger on its rightful target, Sanji had turned on the rest of the crew. After a while, even Luffy had gotten the hint, and they had all done their best to avoid him. He knew that when this was all over, he had some apologies to make. Well, OK, he had TWO apologies to make; one to Nami-san and one to Vivi-chan. He could give fuck all what the rest of the crew thought.

He heard two female voices approaching from the hallway. He kept still in the dark room in which he was sitting, not wanting to cause any more damage to the girl's opinion of him than he had already. As they passed him, he heard threads of their conversation.

"Nami, it's not that I don't want to; you know how much I do. I, just, well, always heard that it was wrong."

"Well, so is being a pirate. But that feels good, too. Right?"

Vivi-chan's shy giggle reached him through the darkness.

"Come on, Vivi. Its late, let's just...go to bed." He had never heard Nami-san's voice sound quite like that before.

There was a pause, just long enough for a decision to be made, and then he heard their footsteps fade to the other end of the hall.

....

........

..............................

Fuck it. Fuck it three ways to Sunday. Fuck it all to Hell. He needed a goddamn cigarette.

NOW.

The hinges snapped from their mount as Sanji kicked in the door to the kitchen. He was for once unconcerned about his precious ingredients as he tossed bottles and jars crashing to the ground while digging through the cabinet. Where the hell were his cigarettes? They were supposed to be right in the back. Had someone moved them? Was he going to have to kill someone? He prayed it wasn't Nami-san. He hoped that it was Usopp. He had never really forgotten the kissie face incident a few weeks back. Immature fucker. He should just mind his own goddamn bus---there they were!

In triumph he hugged the precious pack tightly to his chest, before starting to open it with this teeth. God, he could smell them....

"I KNEW IT!"

Startled, he looked up to see Zoro standing in the doorway looking all kinds of crazy. The swordsman's eyes were wild and unnaturally wide, his chest heaved as he panted heavily, and if Sanji wasn't completely mistaken, he was quite possibly foaming at the mouth. He raised a shaking hand towards the chef.

"You're smoking! I WIN!"

"Do you see any smoke in here, you brainless asshole!?!" Sanji shouted back, as he pulled his first cigarette from the pack and put it between his lips.

Before he could blink, he was knocked to the ground by the bulk of the other man. Zoro's hands were immediately at his belt, and Sanji had just enough to time to grab the lighter from his pocket before his pants were yanked to his knees, and then off completely. He lovingly lit the stick of tobacco and took a heavenly first drag, only slightly conscious of his knees being tugged further apart.

From there, there was sweat, smoke, grunting, the occasional cuss, a badly placed splinter, all sorts of suction, a badly placed cigarette burn, and a constant cloud of wayward ashes.

Some time later, Sanji lay bruised, content, and was well into his third pack. His tooth still ached, but it hardly mattered now, since life was so close to being back to good. If only Zoro understood this, and would keep his big mouth shut...

"I totally win, you weak little Love Cook."

...of course not.

Sanji sat up abruptly, sending Zoro's head from where it was pillowed on the cook's taunt stomach, to the hard floor where it hit with an impressive 'thud'.

"You DO NOT win. You were all over me. Drooling like the stupid ape that you are. Look at me! I'm covered with your slobber."

He motioned pointedly at his pelvic region. Then looked a little closer.

"...and stuff." He grudgingly conceded.

Zoro sat up and glared at him.

"Like hell! You were smoking before I, well, you know." The swordsman argued, motioning pointedly at Sanji's pelvic region.

"The fuck I was! Your mouth was busy way before mine was!"

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was NOT!"

"Was TOO!"

"WANNA BET?!?!"