Not the owner, not making money, not looking for a suit.
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8. our own world
"Here."
Sanji blinked. He'd been staring off into space, trying desperately hard not to imagine all the things he and Nami could be doing, but weren't. She was holding something out to him. He looked at it, nonplussed.
"It's a fishing spear," she explained. "Well, it's just a long stick that I sharpened the end of. But you could try using it as a fishing spear. I'm sick of all this fruit."
Sanji leaped to his feet. "Miss Nami is so wonderful! Beautiful and a genius!"
"Yes, yes," Nami said, as usual, though this time she could barely suppress a small smile. He could be tiresome, but at least he had good taste.
He took the spear and hurried off down the beach to the water, wanting to get started right away. He could just imagine how grateful she would be when he caught her a huge fish--"You're amazing, Sanji!" she would cry. And then, of course, she'd want to show him her gratitude in any way possible, and he wasn't thinking just kisses--
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked: Nami plopped herself down just a few feet away, staring straight ahead across the sea.
He gave a small, contended sigh. It wasn't All Blue, but it was something almost as good: their own world. For now, it would do.