Author's Notes: I don't own any of the One Piece characters. They are all owned by the absolutely excellent Eiichiro Oda!!!
THANK YOU VERY MUCH to all those who are reading and/or reviewing this story!!! I hope that you are enjoying it!
Smallstream: Thank you!!! Very good questions! (Part of it is answered in this chapter, and part will be answered later. Due to some of the weapons laws, he can't have his obvious weapons of choice...or can he? Heh-heh-heh...)
Lady Geuna: Thank you!!! A-ha!!! You know they found that camera in their bathroom!!! JUST KIDDING!!! Thank you for coming along on this story. If you're reading this, I know it's going to be hard trying to stay ahead of you...
Sanji-kunZoro-san: Thank you!!! Not into Yaoi? That's cool. It's definitely not for everyone. As for me, the most important things are the story and the relationships of the characters. If a yaoi storyline doesn't add anything to the story, I won't include it...and in the case of this story, it wouldn't. (This story is not intended to be Yaoi. HOWEVER, I honestly believe that a reader will take away from a story what they bring to it. So, if they want to see yaoi in it, they will...if they don't, they won't. Not a problem for me, I'm just happy if they are enjoying the stories.)
Eileen-san: Thank you!!! And yes, it's going to be interesting seeing how these two work together. Right now, Sanji just has to get Zoro to WORK! Period! LOL!!!
Oni Giri Slash: Thank you!!! I couldn't help it. The name just sounded so perfect for an detective/private investigator agency (despite what it may mean in the fanfic world). This is one of those cases where the title of the story came along before the concept of the story even surfaced. LOL!!!
WARNING!!! Ahoy! Foul language ahead!!! You have thus been warned... (Just remember, tempers are running high. And, unfortunately, so is someone's language...)
Now, onto the next chapter...
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Sitting at his desk, Sanji gritted his teeth as the jabbing pain in his hands and arms slowly began to give way to the medication he had taken.
"Peripheral neuropathy," thought the blonde to himself. Such a nice clinical sounding name for something that had thrown his whole life into disarray and complete turmoil.
Until the moment he had heard those words, he thought his whole life was perfectly planned out.
Zeff was training him to take over his business, the chain of seafood restaurants that he had created all over the world. After all, out of all the kids Zeff had taken off of the streets and raised, he had been Zeff's prodigy. He had learned from the master himself, and could not only duplicate, but in some cases surpass Zeff's cooking. The old man had been proud of him, and had expected him to take over as his heir apparent.
However, as he entered his mid-teens, Sanji noticed a tingling sensation in his hands. At first he thought it was nothing, but as the months went by the tingling turned to burning. Sometimes causing him to drop pans and plates, which would infuriate Zeff who thought he was just being clumsy.
Thinking that it was something simple, the blonde went to the doctor, expecting a simple cure. After all, wasn't there always a simple cure for little aches and pains?
After all the tests were finished, the only thing the doctors could come up with was the diagnosis of Peripheral Neuropathy.
"Sorry Sanji, we don't have a cure. However, we can try and treat it, if the pain gets bad...What?...No...We don't know what caused it...We think it's probably genetic...And since you were an orphan, and we don't know who your parents were...I don't think we can trace that...Sorry, Sanji..."
For a while, Sanji had hoped that he could continue with his dream of being a chef. However, as the pain worsened, the blonde was forced to give up on that dream.
Zeff still wanted him to stick around, but to be around a kitchen and not be able to cook...that was pure torture.
Sinking into his seat, the blonde didn't want to risk standing up. While the pills always helped to somewhat numb the pain enough to get by, it also had the effect of throwing his world just slightly off kilter.
Closing his eyes, the blonde wished hard to be able to sleep. To just put the pain aside and be able to give in to blessed unconsciousness.
To just sleep...
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Walking past the restaurants in the lobby of the office building, Zoro walked outside into the street and proceeded to storm about, making faces but not saying anything.
"Dammit, why do I let that asshole get to me!" the green-haired man's brain was yelling to itself. "I know I shouldn't let him piss me off, but dammit!!! He's such an asshole!!! Why the hell did Zeff send me to babysit that little shithead?!?"
Then as he looked at his reflection in one of the glass windows, the obvious answer came to him.
"Because he trusts you...and because he knows that you wouldn't let anything happen to his little Golden Boy..."
Zoro knew that he owed the old man a lot. Zeff had taken him in, and noticed that he had a penchant for getting into trouble and fighting. So, what did the old man do? He sent him to the finest dojos to learn how to fight properly, and to learn how to control his anger. If it hadn't been for that old man, he would most likely have ended up in prison, or dead.
"But why the hell did he have to watch the Little Shit?!?"
Again, the obvious answer came to him in his reflection.
"Because the 'Little Shit' would die on his own..."
Zoro had seen it before. When the pain hit, the kid couldn't even hold his hand steady enough to dial a simple phone number...
"Aw, SHIT!!!" Thought the green-haired man as another obvious thought hit him.
Why would the kid have been so quick to lose his temper? One, because he was tired from traveling. Two, he was stressed out from trying to get everything up and running in the office. And, three, when one and two hit...number three was sure to follow, another flare up in his hands.
Walking back into the office building, Zoro pressed the button for the elevator when his cellphone went off.
Looking down at the display, a harsher expletive came to his mind, but he didn't voice it. "Why the hell are you calling me?"
"Zoro?" The tentative voice from a woman answered, "Is Sanji there?"
"No."
"Where is he?"
"Not here."
"Can you tell him I called? I think I have a case for him."
"You do know we're in Hawaii, right?" The elevator had finally arrived.
"So am I."
"What?" Came the surprised voice from Zoro as he hit the button for his floor.
"Just tell him I called, okay?"
"I'll think about it." As the elevator doors shut, the reception for his phone died, effectively cutting off the call.
"Witch!" Shouted the green-haired man as he put the phone back in his pocket.
Of all the people to be here, it had to be that orange-haired succubus! It wasn't enough that she had to break his heart. Oh no! She had to latch on to Sanji when the kid was rising through the ranks of Zeff's hand trained chefs, but as soon as the news broke about the kid's illness, she had packed up her little bag of tricks and was gone.
"Witch!" Zoro shouted again for good measure as the elevator doors slid open, and he walked out.
Reaching the office, he quietly opened the door and walked into the room. Casting a worried glance at his partner, eyes closed and apparently sleeping, Zoro walked behind the oak desk to just make sure that the kid was okay.
"Sorry, Zoro..." Came the words from the exhausted blonde.
Patting the half-asleep man on his head, Zoro couldn't help but smile a bit to himself. Whether he liked it or not, this pain-in-the-ass kid (and yes, they were the same age, but he still thought of Sanji as his kid brother) and the old man were the closest thing to family that he had.
Walking back to his desk, Zoro sat down on his chair and pulled out his cellphone.
"Well, if nothing else, I guess I can at least set an appointment to have the office phones hooked up..."
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Author's Notes: Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! Thank you very much for reading and/or reviewing!!! Mahalo and Aloha!