Sanji nodded, but didn't move. He wanted to, but there was a chance he would end up tripping again, and falling at the stupid swordsman's feet was the last thing he needed right now. "Sure. I'd love to." No way he was going to ask for help, but it was a slightly unsettling position to be in. If Zoro walked off now...

But he didn't. "Oh, right." His voice sounded close, and Sanji had hardly picked up the sound of the swordsman's boots through the grass before Zoro was there. There was a faint jingle where his ear studs jarred against each other. "I'm not going to carry you."

"The hell--of course you're not! I told you, no carrying. I'm fine!"

"Except you can't see."

"That's... why do you keep bringing that up? Believe me, I know I can't see, I'm not likely to suddenly forget about the not-seeing, but that doesn't mean there's going to be any carrying!" Sanji felt like kicking something to emphasize his point. Preferably a green-haired, annoying something who would be easier to hit if he wasn't moving around. Zoro didn't just jingle, but clattered slightly too, his three swords' sheaths bumping together as he walked.

"Good." With that, a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, and Sanji found himself firmly propelled forward. He lifted his feet to walk just before the shove sent him sprawling again, and kept walking because it seemed like his best option. Being pushed around like this wasn't quite as embarrassing as getting carried, but neither was it a very dignified way to travel.

Zoro squeezed his shoulder a bit tighter, steering him to the right. "Up."

Sanji wanted to question this laconic direction, but before he could get out anything other than a first "Huh?", a rock collided with his shin. It was a very hard rock, and very pointy in exactly the wrong places. The questioning noise died in his throat, and even though he clamped his jaw shut hard enough to make his teeth grind, a low whine escaped. "Shit. Zoro, you bastard! There are dogs who can do this job better than you!"

The hand on his shoulder twitched, and Zoro's reply was delivered in a dangerously low voice. "I told you to step up."

"No. No, you didn't. You said 'up'." So this had in no way been Sanji's fault.

"Exactly."

"'Up' could mean anything!" The yell felt like a poor substitute for a kick, but it was much better than dwelling on the circumstances. The oppressive darkness, the increasing burning on his face and hands... his ruined suit, the jacket in his hand reduced to a sticky rag.

"Did that plant eat your brain before I got you out of there? How could 'up' mean anything else now?" Zoro growled, shaking his head so the gold in his ear jangled brightly. A puff of air tickled the small hairs on the back of Sanji's neck. "Next time, just do what I say, okay?"

"You'll tell me before I walk into another damn rock?" There were worse things he had wanted to say, but the pain flaring from the burns on his face and hands distracted him momentarily. At least he had been able to close his eyes inside that shitty plant-thing - his exposed skin had been left completely unprotected as it started doing its best to digest him. And there was still that prickling acid taste in his mouth. He grimaced.

"I'll tell you if you shut up and let me do this." Zoro pushed on his shoulder again. "Remember to step over that rock."

"Yeah, I've got it covered." Sanji tapped the rock with his foot, feeling its weight budge slightly. Perfect. With a satisfied grin he released a kick fueled by a whole humiliating day's pent-up frustrations at the offending rock. He regretted not being able to see as it shot off, but was disappointed by how short its flight was. It didn't take long at all until he heard it crash to the ground and bounce a few times.

Not waiting for Zoro's nudge, he strode forward. Clearing the spot the rock had occupied a gust of salt-laced wind met him. The way it stung his exposed skin made him forget all about the bruise on his shin. His determined stride faltered, and Zoro's grasp tightened on his shoulder. It almost felt as if the swordsman planned on holding him upright just by that grip.

"Oi. You okay?"

"Yeah." Sanji answered through gritted teeth. He could ignore the pain, but it was getting tiresome. "I'm fine. But I think I need to find water." Washing the last vestiges of the sour juice out of his skin and letting cool water rinse away the stinging in his eyes - yes, that was just what he needed.

"Did you see any on your way here?"

Sanji thought back. It had been such a lovely walk with Nami, looking for fruits or vegetables to stock their hold with before leaving this chain of islands. The first one they passed had already shifted to winter, and although they had gotten plenty of meat there it wouldn't do for a balanced diet, no matter what Luffy thought. The islands had grown slightly earlier in season and less covered in snow as they went on, but this was their last chance to get fresh greens on board. With fall already well on its way here, everyone had agreed to help out... They had been looking for something to eat, not drink. But he did remember a small brook that he had offered to help Nami across, only to have her step over it herself, right in front of him. His day really had been one disappointment after the other.

"So, did you?" Zoro's voice cut through his contemplations of how much better it would have been if that brook had been just a little wider - or maybe even a river, so that he could have carried her across, or--

"Yeah. Not too far away, it's a stream in the woods. I'll..." He stopped, realizing he couldn't show Zoro, that was the whole problem. "It's in the woods," he finished lamely.

Zoro guided him in the right direction, and they managed to get inside the forest without any further incidents. Sanji was busy listening for the sound of running water, trying to calculate where it could be and fighting the repeated urges to scratch at his stinging eyes. He could hear a few birds calling, and some small animal rustling through fallen leaves, escaping from their presence. The air was rich with scents - trees and bushes, their fruits and berries fallen, their leaves wilting. Mushrooms grew here in abundance, and there were some late flowers blooming not too far off. And there it was. A faint whiff of sweet water, there and then gone.

He stopped, hoping to catch it again. His sorry excuse for a seeing eye dog didn't. Zoro didn't bump into him that hard, but the shifting weight as he bore down on Sanji's shoulder must have surprised him, because he found his legs folding under him. He stumbled, jacket flying out of his grasp and his abraded palms raking against sharp twigs and dry prickly grass for an agonizing moment, before Zoro hauled him back on his feet.

"Idiot. What'd you do that for?" The other man's grumble gave him something to focus on other than the stickiness he could feel on his palms now, warm and slick and not at all like the flower's slime. He balled his hands into loose fists, stuck them in his pockets. "There's water somewhere close. I could smell it."

"Smell it?" Zoro sniffed the air. "Huh. I don't smell anything except that disgusting stink on you." The hand left his shoulder, and he could feel Zoro passing him to do something that rustled like leaves and cloth.

"You're not a cook, and it's not like you to pick up subtle nuances of anything anyway." Sanji craned his neck, testing the air like a hound tracking its quarry. The flower's bitter stink was the most obvious smell in the vicinity, together with tobacco smoke. But he had been able to filter them out before - and there it was again. Running water.

Zoro was back, standing right in front of him. "Here." He touched Sanji's arm lightly. "Your jacket." A sticky, dirty bundle with an assortment of sticks and leaves stuck to it was pressed against his chest. He accepted it with his hands still protectively curled into fists, and tucked it under his arm. Something on it poked his side uncomfortably. Only the fact that he still held on to some vague hope of being able to restore it to something wearable again kept him from just tossing it away, and he nodded his thanks.

"I can smell it now. It's coming from somewhere in that direction." Sanji motioned to the source of the scent with his head. "I think I can hear it, too." It was almost imperceptible, but there, the clucking of water winding down to the sea.

Zoro hesitated before answering. Maybe he was trying to find the scent for himself. His reply indicated that was the case. "If you say so."

"I do. It's there."

"Where?"

"Off to the left."

Zoro started them walking. Not exactly left, but close. "No, it's a bit more in this direction." Sanji pulled at the hand and its attached Zoro to get them on the right track. Following Sanji's instructions, his guide led them closer and closer to the stream. Now there was no doubt in Sanji's mind at all anymore; this was definitely the brook he had seen earlier. Small, but with clear water rushing over smooth stones. Zoro acknowledged that he could hear it, too, and they could quicken their pace once they didn't have to rely on Sanji's lead.

"You really can't smell it, not even this close?" Sanji asked with a smirk. It had never occurred to him that this could be such a useful ability even for a human, and that the swordsman could be so lousy at it.

Zoro growled, "No. But I can see it, so shut up and duck under that branch."

"Asshole." Sanji retorted without heat as he did what Zoro told him to, and felt a few dry leaves tickle his hair. That was a terribly unfair comeback.

The grip on Sanji's shoulder shifted, one hand now firmly on each shoulder. It wasn't quite like being lifted, but unless he decided to fight back, Zoro was the one deciding where they were going now. Down, obviously, navigating a tangle of bushes and jutting rocks. It wasn't at all long before the hands left his shoulder. "Well, we're here."

Sanji moved awkwardly, testing the ground around him with one foot and finding the stream with a splash. At least it was within easy reach. He hunched down, dropping his jacket beside him before he reached out for the water. He tensed, halfway expecting his hand to snag on some thorny vine or sharp root in the unseen space in front of him, but nothing happened. The water's surface was cold to his fingertips, sweaty and grimy as they were after their time in his pockets.

He carefully dipped his fingers lower, and the stream tugged at them with more force than he had expected. The cool water lapped against his hand, getting the cuff of his shirt damp. He plunged both hands to the bottom of the brook and braced against the smooth rocks, some of them slick with algae. Then he took a deep breath and quickly stuck his whole head under water.

The sensation as the stream washed against his scratches and the sensitized skin around them was not altogether pleasant. It eased the burning, but the cold and the pressure against his skin were numbingly painful. The rush of water in his ears made him temporarily deaf as well as blind, and he tried to force his eyes open to get his bearings. It didn't change much, except the stinging in them intensified, prickling worse than if he had rubbed them with fingers full of hot pepper. There might have been a little light at the edge of his vision, blurry and distorted, but he couldn't bear to keep them open long enough to focus on anything.

When he broke the surface, gasping for breath and dripping, a delicate chime of metal and a clattering of lacquered wood against rock told him Zoro was probably sitting down next to him. Sanji could feel the swordsman's eyes on him, and kept his hands underwater, rubbing them against each other to get the last of the sticky juice off. It felt like his warmth was flowing out through the cuts on his palms. He wished desperately he could have seen how they looked, to assure himself that it was just his imagination, that there was no blood staining the water around them.

"That doesn't look very good." Zoro's voice reminded him that there were other things he might have been wishing for while he was at it. That this Grand Line wouldn't have such freakish vegetation, for one, and that he would stop discovering these things in the worst ways possible was another. Giant avalanche-starting carnivorous rabbits, goldfish that swallowed ships whole, cook-eating flowers... why was it that they never happened across tropical islands full of beautiful, lonely women?

"I'm bleeding, aren't I? My hands?"

"Yeah."

Sanji nodded. The chill had numbed them enough that he couldn't tell if the ache was coming from the acid burns, or the scrapes, or just the cold. Either way, none of those things should be able to do any permanent damage. He swallowed. Obviously he needed something to drink. His throat was parched, and hadn't it been aching for a while now?

"Give them here." Zoro had shifted closer.

"You're not a doctor."

"And you're a terrible patient."

"Chopper will take care of them."

"Sure, but he's not here now. Come on."

Sanji gingerly raised his hands from the water, holding them out in the direction of Zoro's voice. A large hand circled his left wrist, pulling it closer and then holding it still. There was a tearing noise, and a piece of cloth was wound tightly around his palm and tied on the back of his hand.

"Uh, Zoro. What was that?"

"I'm putting a bandage on it. I don't want you to bleed all over this island. Chopper wouldn't be happy with me." Zoro released his hand, started on the next.

"I know it's a bandage, but we didn't bring any bandages." He suspiciously brought his hand to his face, immediately catching the familiar smell of smoke and spice, feeling the silky softness of his suit's lining as he touched it against his cheek. "This is from my jacket!"

"Oh, shut up. It was all ruined anyway."

"It was not! It just needed to be cleaned."

"It needed to be burned!"

"What? No!"

Zoro finished tying the impromptu bandage on the other hand with a yank. "Yes. It stinks worse than you do, idiot."

"You stink too," Sanji muttered, but quietly. That was dangerous ground, considering how Zoro had come to get goo on him in the first place. No need to remind him too much of that. A shudder passed through him. The cold was intensifying, even though he didn't have his hands in the water anymore. Strange.

To be continued...

Many thanks to all who have left comments, encouragement and offers of cookies! (Yay, cookies!) They are much appreciated, and I hope you will all like what comes next. Lady K - no, don't stop writing! Listen to your muse! There can never be too much h/c. And, Erithil, I might be laughing at the characters. But just a little. And only because I love them! (You always, uh, laugh at the ones you love? No, wait. That's why I hurt them... Right.)