Disclaimer: Still don't own One Piece

Wow, well let me start by saying thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed, liked or simply read and enjoyed this story so far! It means a lot guys, really. Just as a general note for you all, I'm going to try to update this story weekly!

Here's the next installment for you all!

Day 2, Wednesday

When he went to work the next day, Sanji never even thought about getting to see that dark-haired beauty ever again. Meetings like that were like lunar eclipses: to see it is probably a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, so the lucky viewer could only hope to cherish it always.

Which was why he almost dropped the dishes he had just bussed when he heard Ganzo basically report there was something very wrong with their shitty solar system. "Table 7 Nami. He came here yesterday too. Apparently tipped Sanji a fifty for coffee of all things."

"Fifty?!" The orange-haired woman shouted, only to cover her mouth quickly and compose herself. "I mean, well, time to work hard!"

Sanji shoved the bucket of plates on the counter so hard he almost pushed another full container right in the sink as he chased after his fellow waiter. "Nami-darling, wait!"

"Huh?" She turned. "What is it Sanji? I need to hurry if I'm-"

He knew it was extremely rude to interrupt a woman, especially one that was also one of his long-standing friends, but shamefully his hope and excitement got the best of him as he cut in, "Please let me take Table 7!"

"Whaaaat!?"

He held up his hands, saying quickly before she could rightfully explode on him. "Of course, the money is yours Nami-dear! I won't touch a cent of whatever tip he gives me today. But please allow me to do the work for it."

"Why would you – oh." Her pretty forehead furrowed some, smart mind working it out fast as her eyes lit up in realization. She knew just how much he hated this demotion. "Ooooh. You have a crush on him."

"I-I, well," He spluttered, unable to formulate an intelligent response to that.

Then he lost ability to speak altogether when Nami smiled and touched his face, saying charmingly, "Alright Sanji-kun, you may take Table 7. And seeing as I am doing you such a generous favor, I expect a little interest on that tip as well."

"Of course Nami-swan!" He swooned, but unsure if it was over her or the fact he had gotten his wish.

He hurried out into the dining area, eyes sweeping over the room and – there! There he was, sitting with his chin in his hand and flipping idly through the menu. Unlike yesterday, he had drawn his curly hair back with a cute, yellow patterned bandanna that revealed the small silver loop in his left ear. Sanji couldn't tear his eyes away from the fascinating piece of jewelry, his brain kindly erasing any and all previous and presently irrelevant insults he had shot at a certain Marimo's choice of ear wear.

He drew himself up tall, smoothed out any wrinkles in his clothes, checked his hair to make sure it was properly parted and straightened his tie before crossing the room to the other. "You're back." He said, then immediately wished he had thought of something more suave to say.

"Oh, hey!" The other said as he looked up. Oh, look at that. Only the left side was pierced; cute! And Sanji hoped that equally adorable look of delight was from the sight of him.

Seemingly to realize his reaction though, the other looked away nervously, rubbing the tip of his prominent long-nose. "Uh, heh, I was hoping you were working."

"Really?" Sanji said, leaning one hand on the table and smiling. "Need some more parsley?"

The other shook his head, chuckling bashfully. "No, no. I finished the project. But I promised I'd show you. I had to turn it in, but I took a picture for you." He rummaged around in his pocket before pulling out a cell phone, flipping open the top. It was an old model. "It's not the best quality, sorry, but – ah. Here it is."

He held out the device, fidgeting nervously as Sanji took it and the ego that was on his face yesterday when he boldly told him how great his work would be was absent now. But when he looked down at the picture, it was no second rate drawing he was looking at. The little bit of garnish, made of no more than three little leaves and a tiny stalk, had been placed at somewhat to the right center of the page, and around it spilled out what appeared to be an army racing into battle, if the armored men with their sharp javelins and other weapons and the charging horses were any indication. And in one of the soldier's hands he held a pole that at the end of it was a war flag in which the parsley had become the center piece.

"It's a fleur-de-lis." Sanji realized with a jolt of surprise.

"Yeah, heh… I have to thank you for that too." The student said, running his finger along the freckled design on the wooden table, adding shyly, "Your accent… it's French right?"

"Qui monsieur." He said, almost laughing outright when the other's blush burned all the way to his ear tips. He handed the phone back, saying, "It's an amazing piece. You're very talented."

"R-Really?" He fiddled with the phone. "Sorry. I really wanted to show you it in person but you were so busy and I had to get home to feed Merry. I was pretty late."

He said it casually, but inside he was burning with jealously. "Who's Merry?"

"Ah, my cat. She's real cute – wait! I have a picture." He pressed a couple buttons and then held out his phone again. On the screen was a long-haired, white cat curled up in what appeared to be a cardboard box. But what was most curious were the two brown patterns on her head that looked a lot like – "Heh, she's got spirals just like your eyebrows. Except hers look more like goat horns with the way they go over her head like that don't you think?"

Sanji nodded in agreement, handing back the phone. Before he could say anything more, he was nudged from behind. He looked back, seeing it was sweet, thoughtful Nami who only jerked her head in the direction where Ganzo was watching with a disapproving glare, before moving on to her own tables.

"Shit. I uh… I better take your order." Sanji said.

"O-Oh!" The other's eyes widened with horror as he started jabbering, panicked, "Oh. Oh god, am I getting you in trouble? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm being such a bother aren't I-"

"Hey, hey. Calm down." He insisted, a little taken aback by the sudden slew of apology. "Tch, my shitty supervisor's just had it out for me lately. It has nothing to do with you; hell, talking with you is practically the best part of my day!"

The dark-skinned male seemed to freeze for a moment, staring up at him in disbelief. "You really mean that?"

"Hey, lying's not my style." Something about that made the student flinch some, but he tried not to think too much about it. "I'd sit down and talk to you all day if I could. But I really do need to take your order."

"Oh um well…" He bit his lip, glancing down at the menu. "Uh… a slice of chocolate cake?"

Sanji wrote it down. "You got it. I'll be right back." He had to round a few other tables though so by the time he returned the dark-haired male had another book on the table, tongue poking between his lips as he wrote something in his notebook.

"Not another art project?" He inquired as he set the plate down.

"No. Calculus homework."

"Calculus?! Holy shit, you must be a genius."

The other laughed softly. "Haha, n-not really."

"Oi. You're talking to a guy who barely got through Algebra 2." He said, arching a curly brow.

"Mmm, I bet you could get it if you tried. You just need a good teacher. You're a student at Uni-V right?" When Sanji nodded, he added, "What's your major?"

"Culinary Arts."

"See?" He waved a hand as if that explained everything. "That's an artistic degree. I bet you just don't apply yourself because you know you don't need a lot of math to cook."

He wasn't sure what to say for a moment, because that was the exact argument he used when he decided to just pick the easier math classes to fulfill his degree requirements. "Well, what about you? I was so sure you were an art student?"

"Oh, I am. Well… sort of. I'm minoring in Fine Arts – but my major is Chemistry."

Well, that was surprising. "But… you're so good."

"Haha," The other laughed embarrassedly, spearing his fork into the cake. Sanji had made sure it had been cut where the cake was still moist and in its prime of delicious taste. "Even if that is true, it's hard to make it in the art world. Chemistry is a more solid degree, you know?"

"I guess so." He replied, though he really didn't know. He didn't have to worry with his degree; there would always be hungry people to feed. Speaking of which, he abruptly took notice of the increasing lack of empty tables. "Jeez, we're getting packed."

"You should get back to work." The dark-skinned man said. "I don't wanna get you in trouble."

"You wouldn't. It'd be my fault." Sanji insisted. "I'll come back when I can."

Unfortunately, he didn't really have much chance to do so. He'd forgotten how time-consuming being a waiter could be, especially with just him and Nami working tables on an unusually busy hour. The most he was able to do was get a glass of water when the other requested it. Though, every time he passed by, his heart fluttered when the studious scholar would take notice of it and look up, giving him a small smile that Sanji would return.

"Yoooou've got it baaaad." Nami sing-songed when they were both in the kitchen area, lining up their orders on the metal turner. Sanji longed to take a few of them out and actually make what was on them.

"Ah it is true but, Nami-darling, do not worry. Nothing will surpass my eternal adoration for you!"

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his declarations entirely. "He's not too bad looking either, even with the nose."

"I like it." Sanji said. "I mean it's… different. And it doesn't make him any less attractive."

"But it doesn't make him more attractive either?"

"Well… I don't know." He hummed. "But somehow, he just wouldn't look right without it."

She giggled, her voice like bells to his ears. "So? Are you going to ask him on a date?"

"Well I don't-"

"Oh come on!" She wacked him on the shoulder. "Sanji, you have no problem going up to any person with breasts and acting like you'll die if you don't marry them – but when it comes to guys you shy so far away you're practically on another continent. Even when they totally like you!"

"Well I-" Sanji started to argue, when her words really hit his brain and practically electrified him. "W-Wait… you think he likes me?"

Nami sighed exasperatedly. "Oh you really are just too dense! Obviously he does! You really think he'd come all the way back just to show you a picture if he didn't have something for you?"

"But he promised to show me-"

"Ooooh no. Don't try to reason it." The cartographer-to-be wagged her finger at him. "You start doing that and you'll make up all these fake reasons on why you shouldn't do it and chicken out."

He frowned a little indignantly. "I don't-"

"You do." She cut in bluntly, just like Nami-san always was. "Now listen to me. Did you ever consider this guy could be The One?"

He arched an eyebrow. "'The One'?"

"Yes. You could go on a date with this guy and it might be the most amazing day of your life. Then somewhere down the road, you realize you're still with this guy and still completely crazy about him. Next thing you know, you're popping the question and he's accepting and soon enough you're having babies!"

"Whoa, whoa!" He waved his hands, flushing. "B-Babies?!"

"Okay well, maybe not that part." She amended. "But, you get what I mean right?"

"Sure I do but all that's not likely to happen with this guy."

Nami placed her hands on her hips, scolding, "Sanji, how exactly do you think most people get married? That they just snatch someone off the streets and take them straight to the chapel? They go on dates, learn about each other! Besides… can you honestly tell me that if he just walks out the door today and never returns you won't regret not even trying?"

"I…." Sanji sighed in defeat, smiling abashedly at her. "Nami-san, you are so marvelously wise."

"Yes, Yes. I know. Now hurry and ask him!"

But when Sanji returned to Table 7, his worst fear was realized – the mysterious man was again gone. His shoulders slumped some; but when he noticed the bill poking out from the corner of the plate, he nearly threw the dish across the room in his hurry to get to it. It was another fifty, but he didn't care about that for all his eyes could see was the little note in the same corner as the last one:

My name is Usopp. See you tomorrow.