"Nothing in particular." Her voice was just as Sanji remembered it, refined and brisk, luxurious and cool. "It's just occurred to me that it's been a while since we last spoke. I wondered how you were getting on."

"I'm the cook on Monkey D. Luffy's ship. You coming to arrest us?" Had it really only been a few weeks ago, that he'd seen her off the coast of Alabasta? The sight of the Marine ship, her name emblazoned on the sail, had made him feel proud, even as his stomach had sank at the prospect of being captured. It was what she'd wanted; it was why - at least, what she said was why - she'd left him. Amid all the gawking and general confusion over Bon Clay, Sanji had slipped away up to the aft with the ship's binoculars. Hina had been standing at the prow of her ship, looking more or less the same. She was a little thinner, and her hair was longer, but that was all. There was the just-so stance, the cigarette dangling from perfectly rogued lips, the jacket slung artfully across her shoulders, the general air that the whole world was one big bore. Sanji's stomach had dropped further again, and he'd gone back down to join Luffy, almost sick with the old familiar longing.

"Oh, no," Hina was saying carelessly. "I can't be bothered with you today, sweetheart. I'm busy with something else."

"Big day at the hairdresser's?" Sanji managed sarcastically. He took another drag on the cigarette to congratulate himself.

"The little puppy's grown fangs, I see," Hina said without rancor. "But no, just another pirate. I've finally got a moment to myself, so we can chat now."

How very like Hina, Sanji thought. To assume that they would do things together when, and only when, it was convenient for her. That ploy might have worked when Sanji was sixteen and a boy and helplessly in love, but he was nineteen now, and a man, and - anway, it wasn't going to work. "Actually, Hina," he said, managing a decent drawl, "I'm rather busy myself at the moment."

"Oh?" her voice turned frosty for exactly a second. "Whatever with?"

"We're having, ah -" Sanji forced himself to say it, told himself there was nothing wrong with it, "We're having our tea."

Hina laughed. "All right sweetheart," she said, as an indulgent mother to a child, "go back to your tea party. You don't want to keep your friends waiting." Without waiting for a reply, she hung up. The Baby DenDen closed its mouth and drooped its eyes a little, waiting for permission to rest. Sanji obligingly put it down on a box. He stood up and made his way back to the ladder. There were three things he needed immediately: a drink, a fight, and a talk with Nami.

He knew how to take care of at least one of them. Adjusting his tie and clearing his throat, Sanji pushed open the hatch door. "Nami-saaaaaan!" he cried. It came out as a soulfull croon.

Nami, Usopp, and Chopper scrambled up off the floor guiltily. At least, Usopp and Chopper looked guilty. Nami was all wide-eyed innocence, as if she could not believe people who eavesdropped on private conversations with their ears pressed against the floor actually existed in this world.

"I am beyond mortified that your afternoon tea was interrupted!" Sanji wailed in apparent anguish. Well, it wasn't that far a stretch. He'd worked damn hard on that snack. He pulled himself up through the hatch and kicked the door shut. "How can I make it up to you and Robin-chan? A late-afternoon parfait? With fresh mint and a kiss?" He looked at them hopefully.

"Some coffee would be lovely, Mr. Cook," Robin said from her seat at the table. "Don't worry about the tea. Mr. Captain was able to enjoy it."

Sanji threw a filthy look at a crumb-speckled Luffy, who burped. "I'm sure he was." Turning his attention back to Nami, Sanji was all hearts and smiles once again. "Nami-san?" he sang. "What is your wish? Parfait? Mint? Kiss?"

"Same as Robin - just coffee would be fine, Sanji-kun," Nami said hastily. "By the way-" it was a little too casual, but not at all sly; so she hadn't heard after all. "Who called just now?"

"My grandmother," Sanji said without missing a beat as he made his way to the kettle and stove. "It worries Grandmere, you know, knowing her petit chouchou is somewhere on the Grand Line, facing unspeakable horrors and catching his death of cold. She likes to check up on me."

Usopp, having sufficiently recovered from his initial scare, guffawed incredulously from his seat on the floor. "Grandmother?" he scoffed. "Sanji, even I know that was no old lady on the Baby DenDen. Your grandmother would have to sound at least fifty years older -"

Sanji fixed the sharpshooter with one of his more daggerish stares. "You insulting my Grandmere, Long-Nose?" he asked. Without taking his eyes off Usopp, he put a pan of milk on the stove next to the kettle to warm.

Usopp held up his hands hastily, whether to placate or defend, it was hard to tell. "No, no!" he protested. "I merely meant that your grandmother's...ah...aged well."

"Like cheese!" Having nothing better to do now that all the food was gone, Luffy decided to join the conversation. His worthy contribution was, however, sadly ignored by his crew.

"Huh." Zoro sat across from Luffy, a half-full tankard of rum in front of him. He had his arms crossed in a way that plainly stated he did not believe a single word of Sanji's story. "Hey, Cook, your granny-"

"Grandmere."

"Yeah, whatever, your Grand Mare's in North Blue, right?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"So how come she got through on the Baby DenDen?" Zoro smirked. "I thought those things didn't get overseas connections."

Really. It was like filleting fish in a bucket. "Guess you don't know too much about Baby DenDens, Marimo." Sanji smirked back. He set out two cups on two saucers and poured the warmed milk into them with precise, practiced ease. "Baby DenDens can't make overseas calls, but that doesn't mean they can't receive them."

"Yeah, Zoro," Luffy said, watching Sanji pour freshly brewed coffee in the cups, "didn't you even know that?" Chopper and Usopp nodded their heads sagely. They clearly had no more trouble believing that Sanji's grandmother, who sounded remarkeably like a sensual young woman in her early thirties, was showing touching concern for her wayward grandson in the only way she knew how. Even if, in Usopp's case, it was a belief born out of terror.

"You didn't know it either, moron!" Zoro snapped back. His brows, which had unfurrowed only slightly since the Baby DenDen first rang that afternoon, plunged downwards once again, towards peevish irritation.

"Yes, I did," Luffy said smugly. "Sanji just told me."

A vein began to throb in the swordsman's forehead. Luckily, Chopper chose that moment to sigh enviously, inadvertantly preventing Luffy's murder at the hands of his own first mate. "Your Grandmere must be a really cool person," the reindeer doctor said wistfully.

Sanji sprinkled cinnamon over the foamy caps of the coffee, placed sugar cubes and stirring spoons on the saucers, and waltzed over to Robin and Nami, presenting the treat with a flourish. "Oh, yes," he agreed gravely as he rose from his bow. "In many ways, Grandmere made me the man I am today."

"Stupid?" Zoro grunted. He reached for his tankard. Sanji was quicker. He snatched the tankard away from Zoro's fingertips and downed it, though not without making a face. Where did the plebian get this rot? And why always rum? If it had to be liquor, Sanji was more of a vodka man himself, but ah well, a drink was a drink.

And a fight was a fight. Sanji brought up a leg an instant before Zoro's fist would have connected with his nose. He threw the empty tankard at the swordsman, who batted it aside and promptly launched himself bodily at Sanji.

"Oh, take it outside," Nami said disgustedly.

"Anything you wish, Nami my sweet!" Sanji managed to say, just as Zoro sank his teeth into his upper arm. Sanji howled and kicked Zoro out the door towards the deck. "Bastard!"

Talk With Nami: check.
Drink: check.
Fight: check and double check.

And if Sanji kept his focus on the furiously bickering Zoro and didn't turn around, he could choose not to see Nami's thoughtful gaze or Robin's slight, knowing smile. Yeah. He just wouldn't turn around.

The day was looking better already.

---to be continued