I know you know

I'm wrapped around your finger

You're so, you're so

Beautiful and dangerous

Hot 'n' cold

Don't you see the light, boy?

I could blow your mind, boy

Let me be your new toy

Sanji sat at one of the many large tables in the restaurant, lighting a much-needed cigarette. Zeff usually didn't allow him to smoke inside, (like he even listened) but the Baratie was closed for a holiday. Well, Arbor Day isn't much of a holiday for most people, but it still technically is. So, on this glorious day off, Sanji has been given the honor of spending it with the marimo doing God knows what around town. Hopefully, they'll stop at a beautiful park with scattered cherry blossoms flying gracefully through the breeze, and-

Yes, even he knows that he's getting sappy. But the blonde just can't help it. Every time Sanji sees Zoro, he just wants to hold, kiss, and cuddle him to death. It's an annoying urge that's getting impossibly hard to fight, and if he doesn't keep it in check, he could end up casually pecking Zoro's cheek as soon as he enters the building. Sanji has decided that either his flirting is too small, or the marimo is too dense and doesn't care. Losing Zoro all together certainly wasn't an option and wasn't going to be risked. The cook just needed to find something else to think about while Zoro was near, an inanimate distraction. Every stress ball he's ever had has either been burnt or chewed up, and taking out a cigarette every three minutes seemed too unhealthy.

The front door was frantically opened as a rushing moss ball came hurling inside. Sanji quickly stood from the chair in worry, almost toppling it over. Zoro was out of breath, bending over slightly to rest before speaking. He had his hands protectively over all three swords, probably making sure they didn't drop as he ran. Sanji was about to lay a comforting hand on the other's shoulder, but quickly retracted it. No touching for sure, he thought. Zoro looked up at him with a hit of sorrow in his eyes, now standing up at full height.

"Sanji," he began, "I need your help." The blonde nodded automatically, not listening to his mind telling him that he should wait to see what the reason was first. He would help Zoro with anything, hell, even bank robbing. Not that he felt compelled to, but he actually wanted to, so long as it made the other happy.

"It's...Kuina's anniversary, and I need to visit her dad. It would be kind of rude to show up without a gift, but I have no money. I was hoping you could cook something for me," Zoro asked nervously. Again, Sanji nodded before he even finished his sentence. If the swordsman wanted him to cook than, damn it, he'd cook the best...uh.

"What do you want me to make?" the blonde asked. Zoro shrugged the way he always did when asked something simple. It irked Sanji like no tomorrow, but it was expected that the marimo wouldn't use his brain to think so often. Regardless, the cook made him sit down at the table and wait as he calmly stalked towards the kitchen. Did Zoro already know that Sanji would do literally anything for him? If he did, he surely used it to his advantage, especially for meals. The swordsman never complimented his cooking, but he didn't have to. The expressions Zoro can't hide when he bites into his homemade rice cakes says it all.

H{}H

It didn't take long before the blonde came out of the kitchen carrying a clear, large container filled to the brim with some type of food. Zoro wrinkled his nose as he saw its contents. The food looked orange, yellow, green, and maybe there's a bit of bright pink thrown in there too. Sanji appeared unfazed by the disgusted way the marimo was looking at it. The swordsman crossed his arms over his built chest and scoffed, "The fuck is that, shit-cook?"

Sanji glanced back and forth from Zoro and his warm dish in confusion. It was obvious, wasn't it? "It's my version of Mac and Cheese, idiot; comfort food," the blonde announced.

"It looks like each Skittle had its way with it..."

"Fine, damn it. It's well seasoned Hamburger Helper. I assumed that you didn't want to wait if I cooked it from scratch." Zoro didn't seem pleased, but said nothing more. He only headed for the door quietly, expecting the other to follow. Sanji growled, what the hell was his problem? He didn't have to make any food, you know. Sighing, the lovestruck idiot followed anyway, spotting Zoro already half way down the street.

As convenient and awesome a car would be now, neither of the men had one. Sanji's driving was described as "not safe, un-teachable," and the moss head's vehicle got repossessed. Walking wasn't much trouble anyway, considering the cook got to walk with Zoro all the time. They both new Zoro would end up ass backwards if he tried to walk to work by himself, or the grocery store, or even Franky's house, which is only a block away. So, after the swordsman wandered into a daycare center in an extremely bad mood and carrying big, sharp, scary swords, let's just say that police advised Sanji (or "a close friend") to escort him everywhere.

"Well, well, well," a voice said behind the cook, "I didn't know the fag parade was today. Did you Daz?"

"Nah, Lucci. Looks like we'll just have to refresh his memory," Daz stated, holding a metal baseball bat. Sanji scowled viciously at them, knowing full well that if he fought, he'd drop the Mac and Cheese. If he set it down, there was no doubt that the assholes would either steal it or throw it in the street. No, hell no; this was made for the marimo, even though it was intended to be eaten by Kuina's father. Zoro was at least a block ahead of him (in the wrong direction anyway) and there was no way he was wasting this dish. Daz lunged at him, bat raised high in the air and ready to swing. Sanji did his best to dodge it, the metal surface barely making contact with his left hip. Daz was determined, and Sanji would more than likely end up with a broken leg if he swung at it. There was no other solution; running was all he had until he caught up with Zoro.

The blonde began to run from the two men, cautiously crossing the busy street with the container tightly gripped in his hands. He glanced back to see them following at full speed, getting closer and closer while Zoro continued to get farther. The marimo suddenly stopped up ahead and scratched the back of his head, (more in a thinking gestures than an actual itch) turning around, "Shit-cook, which way is Ea-?" A sudden pain shot through Sanji's lower back just as he and the swordsman made eye contact. The bat came down hard on his tail bone, but not hard enough to break it. The blonde tripped over his feet and fell face-first into the concrete, but wouldn't let the comfort food go. Zoro growled, unsheathing two of his swords; he didn't pay attention to which ones he drew. He could only think about slicing up the guy ready to swing at Sanji again.

Daz slammed the bat down hard on what was intended to be the cook's leg, but instead was Shuusui, causing a metal "clank" to ring pleasantly. Zoro glared with murderous, beautiful green-golden eyes, lips curling up into a smug grin once the bat was limply dropped. Lucci tugged at Daz's shoulder urgently, which must have snapped him out of his paralyzed fear. The two men ran without hesitation, trying desperately to avoid Zoro's warning slashes. Once the perpetrators were out of sight, the swordsman sheathed his swords before yanking Sanji off of the ground roughly. "AH! Oi, I-"

"What the fuck were you doing?" Zoro growled, fisting the blonde's shirt. Sanji tightened his hold on the container as the marimo angrily shook him. He and Zoro both knew he could have done something to protect himself, but he couldn't risk it, wouldn't risk it. And now he has a throbbing, bruised ass because of it.

"Are you hurt?" Zoro demanded, letting go of the now wrinkled shirt. Sanji shook his head, testing his injury by straightening out his body. He cringed, keeping his back outwardly arched so it wouldn't strain. Zoro noticed this and an arm was instantly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling the blonde into a warm embrace. Sanji gasped, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin this moment by talking.

"You don't have to come with me," the swordsman whispered, "You can go back home and get some rest, if you want."

"No!" Sanji threw his hands over his mouth once he pulled away from the other. That came out by itself, and it came out so aggressively, too. What was Zoro going to think from that over dramatic response?

"Fucking curly-brow, tell me you didn't fight just to protect that thing," the marimo ordered, gesturing at the container. Whether he didn't acknowledge his dramatic reaction, or he didn't care, Sanji was still pissed off. Of course, he fucking did, he may he cooked in under two hours, but this came from the heart. Not that Zoro would know.

The cook decided to let go on as silent anger though, taking the lead of walking to their destination. Zoro growled menacingly, but Sanji purposely ignored him. Eventually, the moss head began to follow, not that the blonde noticed. He was too busy clutching the container to his chest for dear life, remember why he made its contents in the first place.

"I was hoping you could cook something for me."

H{}H

Much to Sanji's dismay, Zoro easily caught up to him. Not that he wasn't anticipating this, he just didn't want to feel this awkward. No speaking never sought to be this irritable between the both of them. Sometimes the cook wonders what if would be like if Zoro's friend Kuina was still alive. What if she could stop the tension in any situation? What kind of person would she be? From Zoro's childhood pictures, no doubt she would have been gorgeous. He wondered who she would have ended up marrying, and if she hadn't died at such an earlier age, would Zoro have even met him at a bar, drowning his sadness in alcohol?

"What are you thinking about?" Zoro asked suddenly. So suddenly, in fact, that Sanji didn't have time to filter his thoughts before speaking.

"Kuina."

"Wh-huh?" the swordsman stuttered, eyes slightly widening. The cook held his breath, but didn't look at the other's face. He could practically feel the depression radiating off of Zoro just from the name.

"Uh, I was thinking that she's in a better place, a-and that I would have loved to meet her," Sanji quickly declared. A dark chuckle from Zoro, holding nothing but emptiness, caused him to dart a glimpse at the other. The other had a small smile on his lips, obvious grief hidden in his tone of voice, "Yeah, she would have liked you."

"What was she like?" Damn it, he wanted to stop asking so personal questions, but talking after that long period of silence felt like a reliever. If the marimo was comfortable with this, he wouldn't know with all the unreadable movements and natural tones.

"She was a loveable, crazy bitch," Zoro said affectionately. Sanji spun around to punch him lightly in the chest. Although he wanted it to be harder, he couldn't bring himself to actually hurt the other and himself. "Don't talk about a lady like that! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Zoro's shoulders tensed, but he didn't stop the conversation.

"I-no. I never did."

Well, that shut Sanji right up. Oh, God, he didn't mean for their chat to take this kind of dark turn. Why'd he always have to say all the wrong things? As much as the swordsman tried to conceal it, the cook knew he would break if this topic continued. Luckily, Kuina's old house was just around the corner, saving the chef from any more idiotic slip-ups.

Zoro's sensei, Kuina's father, was waiting at the front door steps, smiling when he saw his formore student coming through the gate. Zoro smiled warmly, Sanji noticed, as soon as they were on the house property. "Hello, sensei," he asserted first. The old man's wrinkles shriveled upwards on his cheek bones as his grin widened. "Good evening, abokado-atama," he smugly exclaimed. The blonde couldn't stifle the various giggles that escaped through parted lips. Clearly, the old guy proved to be a riot ever since he first met him. However, Zoro was far from amused. Apparently, getting called "avocado head" struck a nerve.

Koshiro took Zoro in after his parents were brutally murdered in front of him at such a young age. Police never found the killer though, which only made the marimo feel un-avenged. To this day, Zoro has no idea of what the killer's motives were, but after Koshiro taught him certain meditation things Sanji didn't know, all the anger melted away. The young moss head supposedly got really close to Koshiro's daughter, only to have her pass two years later in a car accident. She must have been really special if Zoro has cried over her for fourteen years. Sanji wondered if Zoro would cry like that for him.

"Ah, hello, Chensumoka-san. Have any good coughing fits lately?" the old man asked Sanji, frowning disapprovingly at the cigarette loosely hanging from his mouth. Apparently, Koshiro's own father died from lung cancer, so he forbid Sanji to appear around him with his precious nicotine. This little rule slipped the blonde's mind for a minute before he quickly jerked the cancer stick from his lips. He was well aware what the old teacher was capable of and, frankly, he liked where his nose currently was on his face.

The cook and swordsman made their way inside the small house, its inside never-changing. The same beat up, brown couch was still in the center of the room, along with the dusty coffee table in front of it. The old man was never much of a television person, but an old tube T.V. was placed directly behind the table. Sanji sat down beside Zoro on the couch, making a long creak shudder from it. He whined as the bruise was forcibly pressed against the stiff cushion, drawing a worried glance from the swordsman. The marimo hesitated before turning sideways towards the blonde, leaning him hovering over his crossed legs. "What're you doi-"

"Shut up, I'm looking at it," Zoro growled, pulling up the back of the orange button down dress shirt. Sanji couldn't fight the blush down as Zoro experimentally poked at the huge purple bump grazing right above his jean-cladded ass. Seriously, what happened to not risking it and focusing on distractions? The only distraction in the room was the swordsman's crotch, and it took all of the blonde's sheer will power not to stare at it. A rthymic ticking caught his attention as Zoro continued to tortuously inspect the bruise. It was the frog shaped clock on the far side of the wall in front of him. The eyes shifted from one side of the room to the other, along with its long tongue. Tick, tock, tick, tock, soon Sanji began to concentrate on nothing but the clock. Not Zoro's warmth, his smell, his body, but the ridiculous looking excuse for a clock.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"Shit-cook."

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"Dart-brow."

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"Ugh, Sanji!" Zoro yelled, startling the blonde. The swordsman's hand wasn't lingering over his skin anymore, much to Sanji's relief and displeasure.

"I said 'It's a bad bruise.' I'll go get the first aid kit," Zoro repeated, getting up and walking into the hallway. Wait, first aid kit? Oh, no, was the marimo planning on treating Sanji himself? Wrapping long bandages around his torso, but only after thoroughly massaging his back with antibiotic cream?

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK, DAMN IT!

H{}H

Letting Zoro help him was a fucking bad idea. Who knew the bastard could pass as a licensed masseuse? It was amazing and terrible how good the marimo was with his hands. Sanji couldn't tell the difference between whether if it was just his attraction flaring, or if Zoro actually held his lighter against his back every time he touched him. It felt so good to have his bruise comforted in just the right way that he moaned aloud, and not in his head. Zoro, being the idiotic fuck he is, took it as a sign of pain and pulled away, claiming that the bandages were on correctly.

"I'll see you later, sensei. Don't forget to take it out of the container before warming it up," the swordsman reminded the old man as he and the blonde began their decent to Zoro's house. Koshiro waved them a farewell before striding back into the house, leaving them with each other and the setting sun. The bandages were incredibly annoying as they scratched against his skin. They were a bit too much for just a bruise, but Zoro insisted.

The marimo turned a corner while they were suppose to be going straight, but didn't change course when Sanji shouted at him. "We're not going to my house," he claimed, walking back to the cook just to grab and drag him along. The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but the swordsman probably expected this and cut him off. "We're going to the hospital."

"What? Oi, wait," Sanji spluttered, but it was no use. Zoro's grip on his wrist was foolproof. He didn't want to go to some shitty doctor, and not only because he didn't care for them. He was perfectly fine, fine enough not to need a doctor anyway. Disturbing doctors for something so stupid pissed them off, and pissing off one of them easily tampered with your well-being. Regardless, the moss head continued to haul him off to the visible clinic down street, the only reason why he didn't get lost.

Walking through the door, Zoro's hold never faltered as he spoke rudely to the secretary. "Oi, lady," he called flatly, "my friend's hurt. He needs a doctor."

"Actually, I'm fine, my sweetness! Don't you fret over me one bit!" Sanji exclaimed, wiggling his body at the woman behind the desk. Her name tag stated "Bonney" in bold, white letters as she ungracefully bit into a turkey leg. Zoro scowled at the gross manner she ate in, but even more at the way Sanji didn't seem to care. The woman spoke with her mouth full, causing bits of meat to fly out of her mouth. "Youwr lucky 'e's 'ot busy today. 'E 'ould 'ee you wright 'ow, if you wunt," she offered. The marimo barely understood her, but got the jist of the sentence.

She picked up the desk phone with greasy hands before dialing, "'Doctor Chwopper, you are 'eeded."

Much to Sanji's surprise, a reindeer of all things came running from the hallway. Not that things like this were unusual, but the blonde didn't exactly feel like he was in good hand-er, hooves. The guy was tiny in height, with a huge red hat kept in place by his antlers. His blue nose twitched as he wrote something down on his clipboard and hummed. "Dr. Tony Tony Chopper at your service," he said happily, flashing the cook and swordsman a huge smile. Zoro wasn't the least bit affected by this act of cuteness, and only shoved Sanji towards the small creature. The marimo then lazily sat down in one of the blue chairs in the waiting room, stretching his arms out wide.

"I'll wait for you," he yawned. Sanji growled, he didn't want to go in there alone, but asking Zoro to accompany him might seem weird. Not weirder than a goddamn reindeer doctor, though. Chopper tapped the blonde's shin as a signal for him to follow. Sanji glanced down, sighing inwardly as he obeyed. He seriously wasn't a huge fan of the doctor, what with the smell of disinfectant and different kinds of medicine lingering in the air. And he certainly hated needles with a passion. He constantly reminded himself on the way to Chopper's scheduled room that he was not there for a shot, and hopefully Chopper didn't need to give him one.

"Okay, what's the problem?" the reindeer asked, closing the only means of escape to Sanji. The blonde reluctantly sat down on the table/bed, lifting up his shirt to show the poorly applied bandages. Chopper understood immediately and began to carefully take them off. The feel of tiny hooves grazing against his skin didn't make him feel much safer.

"So...your name's Tony Tony?" Sanji trailed off nervously. The creature stopped his movements only to genuinely laugh at the question.

"Yes," he giggled, "May I ask what yours is?"

"Blackleg Sanji," the blonde said flatly. He thought talking would make this situation better, but it just made him realize that distracting a doctor isn't such a great idea.

"Well, Sanji. I'm glad to tell you that that bruise isn't serious. Your bone might be sprained though, so be careful and get some rest. How did you get it by the way?"

"I, uh, fell...off of my roof," the cook lied. One; he didn't want to say he lost to a stupid bat, and two; falling down the stairs seemed to be a housewife abuse excuse. Chopper didn't question him besides the odd look he gave.

"Whoever treated this did a good job," Chopper declared, "You really didn't need to see me at all."

"That's what I've been trying to tell that ass out there," Sanji hissed. He did his best to ignore the sudden memory of Zoro's hands on him, thanks to the reindeer. Speaking of Zoro, the marimo could be heard all the way down the hall, chatting with the secretary. What was said didn't translate good since the door muffled it, but the cook bet his precious knives that it was something dumb.

As the two entered the waiting room, the secretary was on top of the swordsman in a pile of limbs. The woman was obviously angry, but Zoro didn't seem to care. Sanji ran over to them and pulled the moss head off of the beauty that was being crushed. Bonney took the offered hand and stood up, wiping off her short pink skirt.

"Why the fuck were you killing her with your fat ass?" Sanji snarled. He didn't mean to say that specific thing, but thankfully the phrase had two meanings. Zoro looked irritated as he crossed his arms, but said nothing. Bonney pointed an accusing finger at him in rage, "The bastard said I eat like a depressed, food deprived elephant in a pig off!"

"Hell no, I said you could beat a depressed, food deprived elephant in a pig off. That's totally different," Zoro clarified. Sanji sincerely apologized to Bonney countless times before dragging the moss headed idiot out of the clinic. Saying that to a gorgeous woman like that! Honestly, the swordsman had no respect!

Chopper stared through the front door, watching Sanji stomp off with Zoro being limply dragged by him. There was some shouting, but it was hard to understand through the glass. The reindeer looked up at his puzzled secretary, who had just put the last remains of her turkey leg down. "What happened?" he asked curiously. Bonney shrugged as she walked back behind the desk.

"All I said was that the blonde was hot."