Sanji
.
His leg ached in the cold. Previously, he'd taken no stock with the old sailor's tales that injuries could sense the weather. But then again, he'd not had an injury this severe before. As soon as the pressure dropped the dull pulse began, and it continued as he watched the snow settle of the Baratie's deck.
Zeff snorted as he turned his gaze inward. The festive period should be booming for restaurants; and he'd bet his moustache that if he were on dry land, they would be taking enough cash to see him and the eggplant through 'til March. As it was, with below freezing temperatures and choppy, grey seawater, few were stupid enough to be at sea. So bar the odd marine and uncomfortable looking pirate, they were empty.
The eggplant wasn't letting that faze him, however. He still trotted over to each table, 5 foot something cocky little brat, serving up pan seared foie gras and looking far too pleased with himself.
A peg to the head soon stopped that. Sanji spluttered and cursed as he climbed out of the chairs he'd collided with
"What the hell, shitty old man?"
"Don't you use that language, shitty eggplant! I told you not to work today! And you know that foie gras is meant to be sautéed!"
"It tastes better this way!"
"You're 50 years too early to question my cooking boy!"
"Shut up! My way is better! Now let me work!"
The diners ate their starter quickly, hoping that the argument would end if they disposed of its cause. Unfortunately they were wrong, and the argument was still going after all diners had left and Sanji was clearing the dishes.
The miniature cook scowled to himself as he put the last of the dishes away, standing tiptoed on a stool to reach the shelves. So Zeff said he could have Christmas off? Stuck on the boat with the shitty old man; everyone else was going to be in the kitchen, so why shouldn't he? Besides, it wasn't like he found working in the kitchen a bore, Zeff knew he lived for cuisine as much as the old man himself did.
The door swinging shut drew the young Sanji from his monologue, and he turned to see a present perched at the end of the prep counter. Drying his hands, he hopped down and moved towards the package. As he picked it up, he saw his name scrawled neatly on the gift tag.
The paper was metallic, and when his hands felt the gift it shimmered all the hues of blue he could imagine. The boy's eyes sparkled as he tentatively unwrapped the paper.
'The Fish Cooking Encyclopaedia'. A thick, hardback volume full of recipes for every edible sea creature. Wax coated specially so chefs can keep it at sea and not worry about damage in storms. Sanji gazed in wonder as he drew open the first page. And saw the same scrawl as on the tag inside.
"Eggplant,
Keep this for All Blue
Zeff-"
Sanji hugged the book to his chest and tried to blink away the tears. Because real men don't cry dammit, and the shitty old man said no presents, so he can't cheat and buy him something like this. The wax cover let the evidence slide away as the young boy enjoyed the gift from his new father.
Peeping in the door's porthole, Zeff stroked his moustache and smiled. True, their budget was tight, with trying to make the business successful and presents were a luxury they couldn't really afford. But it wasn't like he didn't know about the handmade chocolates that had been snuck in his room that morning. And he couldn't let the kid have one up on him.
Besides, it was the first holiday he and the eggplant were sharing together. And fathers were meant to spoil their sons.
...