A/N: Sorry, this isn't a follow-up chapter or anything (or someone's happy ending). This is just an extra scene that I wrote but couldn't fit anywhere. It's the 'waltz costume mix up' scene mentioned in the show's flashback from chapter 2. Enjoy!


"You've messed up again Goldilocks."

"Don't ever call me that again!" Sanji near screamed. It might have been innocent, funny even in a playful way once, but never again after week 6 of this blasted competition. They had been going over the steps of the waltz that they were to dance that Friday. Sanji knew that they weren't the viewer's choice last week seeing as how they had royally screwed up the Samba, and needed to focus on getting every step just right. Then that tailor came by with the costumes and, like usual, the jumping jackass threw one bag at him and told him to change. However, when Sanji unzipped the bag to check out what he would be wearing, he nearly lost his mind.

"What the ever-loving fuck is this?" He howled; pulling out a mass of light pink organza that floated lightly in the air as it settled. There were ruffles and frills and ribbons everywhere on the fashion disaster.

When the aforementioned asshole just smiled and replied with "Your costume." Sanji was sure he was about to commit murder, on camera no less!

"If you don't admit to joking in three seconds, you're going to be nothing more than paint on the walls, asshat." Sanji couldn't even look at his partner as his eyes were rooted to the dreadful dress in his hands.

"What's the matter, princess?" was the snarky reply, "Don't like the colour? I'm sure I can ask Kin'emon to dye it a fetching shade of purple before we compete. He'd have to match my shirt to it though." Zoro said, pulling out a darker pink button-up from his own suit's bag.

Tearing his eyes from the frilly fabric Sanji sent a fierce glare burrowing into the other man's soul. Only instead of remorse, the frolicking fucker just laughed even louder at the look of utter revulsion on Sanji's face. The longer Zoro laughed at Sanji, the more it dawned on him that there were no declarations of it being a joke, there was no mysterious third bag with his ACTUAL costume in it, and Sanji was both incredibly angry and uncomfortably worried.

There was no way in any level of hell that he would be wearing a dress and waltzing on national television in it. He'd dance naked if had to. Or better yet, clothed in a green-haired skin suit! The idiot seemed to be calming down somewhat, though. So Sanji waited with baited breath to hear that it was just a prank and produce his real costume. Only to be dismayed with the next few words he heard.

"Come on now, it's the waltz. This dance is known for the sweeping dresses and even if you are a guy there's a protocol to this dance we can't screw up, not after last week." There was still a smile on his face but his voice was completely serious.

Oh gods, he was completely serious. Sanji's eyes widened further and his gaze snapped between the dancer and the dress in rapid succession. Sanji didn't care how serious the pirouetting prick was, there was no way this could be happening. He could admit that they needed points after the mess that was their Samba, but this was not going to happen.

Words were failing him. The more Sanji looked between the outfit and the stoic dancer, the more his world was reduced to abject terror. He wasn't sure what he was about to say when the doors to the practice room burst inwards and Kin'emon appeared, frazzled and with a black clothing bag swinging in his hand.

"Oh, Mr. LeNoir, sir! I've mixed up the bags, and I'm glad I caught you before you – what are you doing? That dress is going to wrinkle now, have you no respect for my hard work that you would abuse my creations…" Sanji couldn't even make out the rest of the costumer's rant as relief washed over him.

The garish garb was taken from his hands and zipped back into its accompanying carrier with a muttered disapproval from the tall man. His empty hand was then immediately filled with the hangar for the bag of his actual costume. Sanji looked down at the innocent handle in his hand. He wasn't sure if this bag would reveal slacks, or another fucking dress. He couldn't tell, seeing as how somber his professional dancer was.

"Next time, could you check before dropping them off?" He heard the gruff man scold Kin'emon. "We almost had an incident here. The colour was way too light on that dress and we would have clashed." The moron motioned to the shirt sleeve he still held in his hand.

No fucking way.

Sanji had never unzipped a bag faster in his life then he did right then. He was solely focused on determining if Zoro was honestly planning on making him wear a dress that when he was confronted with a matching pink button-up from to one in Zoro's hand he was at a loss for words.

"Holy shit your face!"

He didn't actually see the green-haired moron fall to the ground in a fit of hilarity. Nor could he actually hear the guffaws from the hysterical man. All he could see was the pink shirt suspended from the hanger in his hands. Slowly, oh so slowly, he replaced the shirt sleeve, zipped the bag shut and walked over to the random piano that was always standing unused in the corner. Laying the bag gently over the bench, he grabbed his cigarette pack, lit up and made his way back towards the bewildered Kin'emon, who stood watching the lunatic roll around on the floor.

Stepping past the shocked tailor Sanji positioned himself menacingly above the distracted dumbass. Taking the cig between his fingers he blew a stream of smoke into the air and casually tucked his other hand into his pocket. "And what exactly," he began, replacing the cigarette into his mouth and raising his leg impossibly high while remaining balanced, "is so funny?" he roared, bringing his foot crashing down towards the laughing face.

Catching sight of the imminent danger, the prick managed to roll out of the path of Sanji's foot and scamper to a standing position. Placing his remaining hand in his other pocket, Sanji allowed his fringe to shadow his eyes as he contemplated which internal organ to make external for the irritating idiot. While the laughing had ceased, there was still a manic smile on the reject's face that grated on the chef's last nerve.

With an incomprehensible war cry, Sanji ran forward and attacked the asshole's raised guard. Together they fought what would become youtube's 'most watched' clip of the week. As he and the moron faced off, those eternally present cameras filmed every last kick and punch shared between them and it was with no surprise that the footage was edited into the night's broadcast.

Needless to say, the make-up department had been displeased with Sanji's black eye and Zoro's scraped cheeks when they were being made over for the waltz that would be performed only hours later.