NOTE; I haven't watched the show for yearssss. I was looking at the One Piece character list when I uploaded this chapter and noticed that Sanji is now Sanji Vinsmoke?! So apparently I missed something... O.O
Authors Note; I found another long lost Chapter for this story lurking on my laptop recently. So here I am, a year later, finally posting it. I can't believe I posted the first chapter in 2012!
Better late than never though….. right?
"Hey Zoro- Sorry Sanji! I still can't-"
"Get used to it? Me neither," Sanji replied, offering a shrug to his Captain.
Another day had passed and still Sanji and Zoro found themselves residing in each other's forms, waiting patiently for Trafalgar Law to heal and regain consciousness. It occurred to Sanji as he was preparing breakfast that he hadn't yet inquired with Chopper about Trafalgar's condition.
He should have felt at least an ounce of sympathy for the man, out cold in the medical bay and sprawled across the cot, displaying about as much activity as an inanimate object.
He didn't.
Although the cook knew that he was perhaps being rather bitter about Law's current state, he couldn't feel much sympathy whilst he resided in Zoro's body.
It was a constant reminder of what the bastard had done to him.
Sanji disliked the manner in which Law tended to use his abilities- without warning or asking.
The switch hadn't been necessary during the fight, so why on earth did he do it?
Apparently, Trafalgar had an odd sense of humour...
It wasn't long until the table was full, with the exception of Chopper, who once again was probably isolating himself in the sick bay with their latest patient.
"Luffy, will you do me a favour?"
"Do I get meat?"
"Yeah, whatever… Could you ask Chopper to come and eat for me? Wait- let me rephrase that," Sanji said, furrowing the swordsman's brow at the thought of Chopper missing yet another meal. "He gets no choice. Drag him if you have to."
"Ok Sanji!" an ecstatic Luffy replied, his sandals slapping noisily against the deck as he quickly disappeared down the hallway at full speed, relishing happily at the promise of meat.
Deep down, Sanji felt slightly guilty for bribing Luffy with the promise of food. Although he hadn't originally intended to give him anything, he was beginning to reconsider.
Perhaps if he tried, he could make the rubber captain forget by making excuses or changing the subject- it was worth a try, although there was absolutely nothing that could make Luffy forget about meat.
The sound of clinking cutlery and quiet conversation filled the air, a familiar sound that often accompanied breakfast on the ship.
Unlike the later meals, the earliest sitting was usually always the quietest.
It was a time when everyone was still rousing from sleep, too tired to really make a ruckus in the kitchen with the exception of one crew member. Sanji had never seen his Captain ever really tired.
He only wished that Luffy's energetic persona was contagious, and then perhaps he could make breakfast in the mornings without having to worry about slicing his fingers when he was still half asleep.
It wasn't long until the Straw-hat returned, dragging an unimpressed Chopper through the doorway, much to everyone else's amusement. Like always Luffy's returning presence had been detected before he'd physically arrived in the room, his laughter echoing through the long hallway along with Choppers raised protests.
Dumping the reindeer in his seat, Luffy resumed his place at the table, turning to Sanji with a wide smile.
"Luffy!" Chopper protested in irritation, frowning at his Captain. "I told you, I was busy!"
"Sanji told me to," Luffy insisted. "He said I could have meat!"
"You're not leaving this table until you've eaten something Chopper," Sanji said firmly, folding the swordsman's arms across his chest.
"I should be watching Trafalgar," the reindeer insisted, squirming as Luffy pinned him firmly to the seat with a pair of strong, rubber arms that had stretched from one end of the long table to the other impressively. "What if-"
"Don't make me come down there!" Sanji threatened. "I'm being serious. Eat, and then I'll let you go."
"But Sanji-"
"Chopper."
The reindeer almost immediately ceased his squirming when a hand came to rest upon his shoulder, and craning his head slowly he met the newly acquired blue eyed gaze of Roronoa Zoro.
Despite the familiar mop of blonde hair and ironed blue shirt, the difference was clear. Zoro lacked Sanji's usual immaculate fashion, choosing instead to roll the cooks sleeves to the elbow and leave a few buttons open at the collar.
"Sorry Zoro, I-"
"Don't apologise you idiot," the swordsman replied bluntly. "Just eat something."
"SANJI! I want meat!"
"Not now Luffy! It's too early-"
"It's never too early for meat!"
"Yes it is."
"Says who?!"
"Me. Now shut up, or I won't give you anything."
"But you promised!"
"I never promised you anything, now shut up and eat rubber boy."
After a decent breakfast Chopper was granted his freedom, and much to the reindeer's protest, he was ordered not to return to the sick bay. Instead, he was advised to use his empty schedule to relax and catch some much needed shut eye.
Eventually, he soon realised that arguing would get him nowhere, and so he slipped away from the table to return to the men's quarters, his hoofed footsteps clicking against the wooden floor as he sauntered through the hallway, a yawn escaping his mouth.
"Someone needs to watch Trafalgar," Nami declared, reaching for her glass. The orange haired navigator was usually easily irritated at this time of morning. It seemed that as usual she was on the verge of falling asleep, watching Luffy eye the contents of her plate suspiciously through a pair of narrowed eyes.
'Why don't you do it?' Zoro thought, taking another brutal stab at the contents of his plate.
Even the smallest of things seemed to be annoying him more than usual lately. Judging by the hassle he'd had dressing himself that morning, he had a funny feeling that the day was going to have many thrilling surprises in store for him.
Roronoa Zoro had woken that morning to the sound of incessant snoring.
Upon waking he inspected the surrounding bunks, concluding that the culprit was Luffy.
Reluctantly he pried himself from his bunk and dressed, so darn tired that he'd it had taken a short eternity to button the cook's stupid shirt. Zoro had never been good with buttons. He deemed them unnecessary and an inconvenience, although that had a lot to do with the fact that he was often too lazy to button them properly.
After banging the cooks elbow on his locker, he'd already lost his patience, scowling as he'd fought with the tiny buttons from collar to cuff.
"I nominate Marimo," Sanji said with a small smirk, watching as the swordsman glanced up at him from across the far end of the table through a narrowed blue eye, acknowledging the cook's suggestion with a huff.
"Since you're so willing to do it, why don't you watch him?" Zoro challenged, knowing that he was likely to lose this battle. He'd spent the past few days moping around on deck sunbathing, so it was only natural that he should be picked for such a dismal task. He wondered if Sanji was trying to irritate him on purpose. The cook was too good at winding him up the wrong way. Zoro vowed to get his revenge one way or another. There was no way he'd it slide this time, especially since he was being deprived of his favourite alcohol.
"Because I'm busy shithead, which is the least I can say for you. Now go and watch Trafalgar."
"Number one does not take orders from number seven," Zoro replied, concealing his satisfied smirk by taking a mouthful of juice.
"Shut up asshole," Sanji exclaimed, "I thought you'd stopped with that shit! You only got there first because you cheated!"
"Number one does not acknowledge number seven," the swordsman replied.
"Oh yeah?"
The cook refilled Robins drink, a glass pitcher grasped in Zoro's large, calloused hand. "How about you acknowledge my fist in your face?!"
"My face," Zoro corrected, unable to suppress a smug smile.
He knew that he was unlikely going to be able to talk himself out of looking after Law, however he decided that he'd certainly enjoy trying.
Sanji merely scowled in response, realising that the expression was a regular occurrence on the swordsman's face.
'It's too early for this,' Nami thought dismally, her head beginning to pound.
She sighed, realising that her usual threats just didn't seem to be working anymore.
"What have I told you about arguing this early? You're giving me a headache!"
"My sincerest apologies Nami-swan!" Sanji swooned, and the room fell into an immediate silence.
The occupants of the table regarded him with vacant expressions, with the exception of Luffy, who was busy enjoying the chef's cuisine.
"What?"
"Sanji bro..." Franky began, rendered speechless..
"That was..." Usopp continued with a distant, glassy eyed stare.
"Interesting," Robin finished, a familiar smile perched upon her lips.
"What would you be referring to Robin-chan?!"
"That," Zoro said accusingly, a look of disgust displayed upon the cook's fine features. "That swooning shit you do."
"My, how interesting Sanji-kun!" Brook exclaimed, his teeth chattering slightly as he spoke. "That was a little odd coming from Zoro, yohoho! Do it again-"
"Don't encourage him!"
The swordsman scolded the musician, glaring into the skeletons empty eye sockets.
"Don't do it again when you're using my mouth," he warned Sanji. "That shits not fucking natural."
"Just like your hair then, shit head," the cook quickly replied. This was all Trafalgar's fault. The bastard would pay for making him embarrassed. Sanji vowed that as soon as Law was up and walking, he'd turn him into a stir fry...
"You better get going Zoro," Nami said stiffly. "Trafalgar's waiting for you."
'Waiting my ass,' Zoro thought with a scoff. 'I'll watch him, but I can't guarantee that he'll stay in one piece...'
"Fine," he said with a huff, yawning as he stretched, arching the cooks back with a satisfied groan. "But I want a beer, cook."
"In your dreams Marimo."
'It was worth a try,' he thought, his attention suddenly fixated on the large fridge. He narrowed his blue eyes in determination and promptly left his seat, heading straight for the locked device.
Sanji resisted the urge to roll his- Zoro's eye when the swordsman extended a hand and grasped the handle of the door, giving it a sharp tug with a disapproved grunt.
"I know they're in there cook."
"Looks like you're head's not full of moss after all-"
"Your head," Zoro corrected again, glaring at the combination keypad that was separating him from his beloved alcohol.
"What are you going to do shithead, cut it with your swords?"
'Don't give me ideas,' the swordsman thought, narrowing his eyes in determination. He surveyed the keypad with a challenging glare.
Zoro could have sworn that those inanimate digits were mocking him...
It was an impossible task, yet somehow the Marimo felt obliged to at least make an attempt.
He tried to concentrate- just like his meditation.
The sound of his own voice pierced his ears as the cook uttered a discouraging, "You're wasting your time shit head."
With a growl of determination the swordsman extended a slender hand, and using Sanji's long fingers he entered the first sequence that came to mind, uncaring that his efforts were almost certainly going to be useless.
The numbers in the cooks head were almost as clear as day, etched into his thoughts as if they were destined to be there.
He entered a four digit sequence, 7, 3, 2, 6.
Unexpectedly, the door sounded with a click, and Zoro was unable to supress a genuine smile and he plucked a cold bottle from the rack, clutching it proudly as if it were a trophy.
"Wasting my time hm?"
Sanji had never been so speechless.
As he watched the swordsman saunter towards the door with an ice cold bottle in hand, he'd almost been too dazed to call after him.
The bastard was going to pollute his body with a cheap beer.
A shitty beer.
"I'll be taking this for my troubles," the swordsman said as he lingered momentarily in the kitchen doorway. He paused, flicking off the cap and holding the neck of the bottle dangerously close to his lips.
"Don't even think about it shithead."
"Just watch me."
One broken bottle and a kick to the shin later, Zoro found himself trapped between the bland four walls of the sick bay, slouching boredly on Choppers favourite swivel chair. He glared at the still figure lying in the large bed, encased with crisp white sheets like a lifeless corpse.
He was losing his mind, and he'd only been watching over him for a couple of hours.
Zoro was easily occupied, however it seemed that he was just unable to focus on anything.
After spending the first hour watching the steady rise and fall of Law's chest, Zoro had tried to avert his attention to something else, eventually fixing his gaze on the small clock hanging on the wall.
The slow ticking of the device had quickly begun to drive him insane, and he'd tried so hard to ignore it…..
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but listen to the incessant ticking noise….
Eventually Zoro had stuffed the clock into Choppers filing cabinet, relieved when he could no longer hear the repetitive ticking.
He studied Trafalgar through a pair of curious blue eyes, raking a hand idly through the blond fringe that hung in his eyes. Law was a slim man of average height, his frame swathed in sheets that were pulled to his chest. His arms rested on top of the clean sheets, the black tribal tattoo's vivid against his skin.
His gaze fixated on Laws's left hand, studying the five ominous letters inked on the back of his fingers.
He wondered why anyone would choose to have something so morbid inked permanently to their skin. Perhaps Trafalgar wanted to show the world that he wasn't afraid of death. Maybe he was reading too deep into this, and Law just decided to get a tattoo on a whim.
It was odd to see Trafalgar with anything other than a smile on his face. He looked almost like a stranger without a hat upon his head.
The swordsman admired the small earrings that Trafalgar sported in each of his ears, reminding him of his own piercings. He sighed at the thought of the three earrings that adorned his own left ear, the cold pieces chiming together as he walked- he missed them. Of all the things that Zoro could miss about being in his own form, he found himself missing those small gold pieces. They were like his swords, an extension of himself; accept he couldn't feel with them at all.
He wondered if Law felt the same way about his tattoos.
Zoro wasn't completely against the idea of being inked.
The human body was like a canvas, waiting to be marked. Some painted it with tattoos, others with scars. Like Trafalgar and his tattoo's, the swordsman would carry his scars for life, each mark had its own story to tell. Although it was unlikely that he'd ever gain a tattoo, Zoro wondered how much it hurt. He was certain that the pain couldn't be too bad, because it seemed that even Nami had been able to tolerate the unpleasant sensation.
He wondered, if he had to choose a tattoo, what would he have?
He wasn't so sure.
Watching the steady rise and fall of Law's chest, Zoro wondered how long it would take to smother the bastard with a pillow. It was almost funny how fragile humans really were. He was sure that it wouldn't take much effort at all to choke the life out of the unconscious man in front of him, however Zoro decided that it wasn't worth the risk or hassle.
He could restrain himself until he was awake.
They needed him in one piece to restore Sanji and Zoro to their rightful bodies. Being the Captain and doctor of the Heart Pirates, Law was in safe hands with Chopper.
Of all the devil fruit abilities, the swordsman decided that this was the most frustrating one he'd encountered so far.
He couldn't believe that Luffy had an alliance with this man of all people. This politely sarcastic, and twisted-
Taking a deep breath, the swordsman realised that he was clenching the cooks hands in irritation.
He supposed that it wasn't that big of a deal having to watch Trafalger sleep, however he was still disappointed that he hadn't been able to finish his beer.
Despite not being able to quench his athirst, he was still slightly chuffed that he'd been able to crack that fridge's lousy four digit code. Being kicked in the back of the thigh by his own leg had been totally worth it just to see the look of surprise on Sanji's face…
Sanji Blackleg approached the bathroom door, his footsteps sounding against the wooden floor as he raked a hair through Zoro's thick green hair.
After attempting to make a start on dinner, he'd managed to burn the rice three times- three times too many in his opinion.
Sanji couldn't remember the last time he'd burned something in the kitchen. Even when he was being pestered by Luffy, he still managed to keep a close eye on the stove.
After cleaning up the mess he'd made, Sanji had decided that it was time for a nice, long bath before returning to the kitchen. After a tough day, having a relaxing soak never failed to put him in a better mood.
As he kicked off the swordsman's thick black boots, he strolled bare foot to the bathroom door, grasping the handle and opening the door with a nudge-
Standing beneath the warm spray of the shower, a familiar blond figure was rinsing the shampoo from his hair.
"Fuck! Sorry-"
"What are you apologising for idiot? Just come in," a familiar voice commanded, sounding slightly amused by his hesitation. "What's the matter princess, never seen yourself naked before?"
Sanji ignored the swordsman and shut the door loudly behind him.
After what seemed to take an eternity to fill the bath with steaming hot water, the cook stripped the swordsman's body of clothes, slipping into the warm water as he muttered a string of curses under his breath.
He blamed Franky for fitting a shower and bath in the same vicinity...
If it hadn't been for the cyborg, he wouldn't have been forced to bathe in the same room as the shitty swordsman, reeling from embarrassment.
Zoro rinsed the shampoo from his newly acquired blonde hair, watching the substance disappear down the narrow plug hole.
It had taken a lot of effort to undress himself the first night after the transition. Zoro had felt almost forbidden to undress without closing his eyes, and he still felt a similar sense of warning in the back of his mind each time he laid a hand on Sanji's body, despite the fact that he was using the cooks own fingers.
It still felt like he was taking advantage of the man.
It made him feel stupid.
He couldn't help but wonder how the blonde was coping with the situation. As the cook sat submerged in the warm water, was he frowning in disgust at the scars on his skin?
Was he disgusted by his recklessness?
Perhaps he didn't care.
Perhaps he didn't care one little bit.
He'd never know.
Sanji began to sink lower, the water lapping against the bottom of his chin as he tried to ignore the aching in his groin.
He was enjoying the water a little too much as the heat relaxed his aching muscles- Zoro's muscles.
'Fuck,' the cook thought in mild alarm, not daring to take a risky glance and see if the Marimo was watching.
The cook considered his possibilities briefly as he raked a wet hand through the swordsman's unusual green hair. He could either grab a towel and make an escape in hope that the Marimo wouldn't spot him nursing a problem, or he could stay in the water until it went cold, hoping that Zoro would leave before him.
Sanji sunk further into the water in despair, wishing that somehow he could disappear as the pleasant warmth eased the tension in Zoro's body.
He almost felt bad for the swordsman.
Almost.
Sanji had long dreamed of being able to examine that tempting muscular chest for himself under close scrutiny, tracing the prominent scar with ghosting fingertips as the muscle rippled beneath his touch-
'Oh shit,' the former blonde thought dismally, realising that his mind was drifting once again into dangerous territory.
The longer he thought about it, the worse that it seemed.
'Think of something else dammit,' he thought desperately, 'like that time you wore that abomination of a dress...'
As the colour returned to his face, he was certain that it wasn't the temperature of the water tinting his cheeks, but embarrassment. He could still remember the feel of the soft fabric against his skin, the feel of the pink cotton clinging to his chest and the hideous ruffles-
'That's it Sanji, just keep thinking of that image.'
Relieved, he discovered that his problem was gone, instead replaced with a pang of shame.
He still had nightmares about that dress.
"Don't forget to wash behind my ears," the swordsman commented dryly as the hum of the shower ceased.
"Shitty marimo- did you just tell a joke?"
"What about it?"
"Fuck. This must be more serious than I thought... You're not sick are you? Maybe you should go and see Chopper-" Sanji craned his neck to take a glance at his own skinny figure standing amidst the disappearing steam, irritated to discover that the swordsman was drying his hair brutishly with the towel. "Oi! Stop right there you barbarian!"
Zoro paused, lowering the towel to drape over the cooks shoulders as he gazed back in confusion.
"What?"
"Don't be so rough shit head, or you'll make me go bald!"
"Now there's an idea…."
"Try it and see what happens, I dare you!"
"What's the matter, scared I'll give you split ends?"
Sanji scowled, emerging from the water and taking care not to slip on the floor as he wrapped a towel around the swordsman's waist, although the attire offered little modesty.
He snatched the towel from the swordsman, who simply stared in confusion.
"If you say anything at all, I'm going to strangle you with this thing. Understand?"
"Yes princess-ow!"
Zoro recoiled from being whipped with the towel, uttering "sadist" as the cook began to dry the blonde hair.
'I feel like a hostage,' he thought with the towel draped over his head.
He wondered if it would feel just as good getting this kind of treatment from Sanji Blackleg in his own body. He quickly dismissed the thought as fingers began to rake through the soft strands, draping the limp fringe back into place.
Zoro wondered why the cook would try to hide behind the soft curtain of hair, until he realised that the reason was entirely obvious; a smirk tugged at his lips as the cook recoiled a single hand from his hair, raising a brow inquisitively.
"I never would have thought in a million years that they curled the same way- OW!" Zoro exclaimed upon receiving another whack, smug smile quickly fading into a mild frown. The swordsman's vision was temporarily obscured as Sanji through the towel in his direction, succeeding in draping it over his head with a weak throw. Extending a slim arm, he tugged at the offending item and allowed it to hang around his neck and shoulders, watching as his own form sauntered back over to the tub, removing the towel and slipping back into the warm water.
"Whatever shit head. Just make me look presentable would you?"
"I'm sure some of Nami's stuff would look great on you-" Zoro flinched in alarm a bar of soap came hurtling in his direction, landing on the floor with a smack and skidding across the wet tiles.
"I'm going already…"
Sanji sighed as he sank deeper into the water, when suddenly; an object collided with the back of his skull.
It was the soap.
Zoro smirked as the door clicked shut behind him.
"Shitty Marimo!"