I'm hot... Hah... Why is it so damn hot?

Sanji's body felt unnaturally heated as though he was lying right next to, and beneath, a burning furnace. It was uncomfortable how the heavy weight on his chest was preventing him from any type of movement. When he flicked his eyes open, he saw that the room was remotely dim. The navy blue curtains were draped in front of his windows since he hated being woken up in the morning with the sun burning his eyes. He flickered his gaze to his chest to see an arm slung on top of his. Not just any arm either- it was Zoro's arm.

Marimo?

Seeing his face jogged a few memories from last night. He remembered meeting Zoro's friends and drinking with them. But that was it, he could not remember any further.

The marimo pulled the blond by his waist and snuggled into the nape of his neck, softly tracing his lips across his skin. Then Sanji flushed in heavy realization that he was in bed with another man. A man! If his beloved, Nami-san, was to walk in right now, she would believe that he's gay, which was not true at all, because he was a total womanizer, women loving man who was confident about his sexuality.

Zoro sighed into his blond hair, brushing his cheek against Sanji's ear, sending a stimulating chill down his spine.

Damn it, marimo! Get off of me!

He threw the man's arm off him as he slid his legs off the bed, the soles of his feet hitting the cold hard floor. He felt a pang of emptiness, an indescribable hollow feeling, as he abandoned that warm body of the man's, which assured comfort and security- not that he needed protection. It was just that the familiar feeling of a body next to his that he missed, not Zoro himself.

Geez, I need to get married to a beautiful wife.

Sanji cracked his neck as he headed for the kitchen, an elated grin on his features, as he thought about all the choices for making a simple breakfast. Unlike the morning from yesterday, he felt less lazy and sluggish, and more energetic and full of life. Perhaps it was because of the nice sleep he had, unlike most night when he stirred awake in between, sweaty and feeling suffocated. He couldn't help but think that the mosshead had something to do with it. Being a human furnace, that man coaxed Sanji into sleep with his presence.

I guess it's not so bad having marimo around... Maybe I can ask him to stick around a little?

So he could get some sleep?

The blond groaned. There was no way in hell he was going to slip into an intimate conversation like that with Zoro.

The smell wafting over his way was what really awoke him. It was quite the nice way to awake actually, knowing that breakfast was waiting for his half conscious but rumbling stomach. However, Zoro stayed on the bed for a bit, feeling comfortable on the soft fabric of the bed and the warmth provided by the blanket on top of him. He vaguely recalled experimentally wrapping himself around the blond in the middle of the night, snuggling against the heat radiating off his muscular body. But since there weren't any visible bruises on his body, he probably dreamed that part.

He yawned as he strolled over to the kitchen, slipping his hand under his shirt to scratch his abdomen.

The idiot blond was wearing a bright pink apron that was painful to look at, with the words 'kiss the cook' printed on front, twirling around and humming to himself whilst doing multiple tasks at a rapid pace. He was so into the zone that he didn't even notice Zoro standing by the entrance. So the swordsman decided to plop before a window in the living room, next to the couch, to meditate, which was his usual morning routine. However, not even a single minute passed before the blond interrupted his mental training, sitting on the couch and burning a hole through the back of Zoro's head.

The green haired man twitched with aggravation, "What do you want?"

Sanji replied, "The food is ready, asshole." Then the sound of a heavy intake and an outtake was heard, the sound of him smoking.

Zoro could almost imagine how the blond's neck is extended, eyes closed, lips firmly holding the small stick, and head slightly tilt backwards as though he was in a sort of ecstasy.

"Oi, curly," he murmured as he glanced at the cook, who was exactly in that form, except his fingers had clasped the filter of the cigarette.

The blond repeated, "The food is ready, marimo."

Zoro growled, "I heard you the first time," before jumping up to his feet.

There was a tang of excitement when he smelt that sublime aroma coming from the kitchen, which made him be reminded of Luffy who would love to be in his shoes at the moment. "Woah," he mouthed as he swallowed the running saliva in his mouth when he saw the colorful breakfast stretched from one end to the other on the large dining table. He slipped into one of the wooden chairs that had a plate and utensils in front and expectantly waited for Sanji to take a seat, so they could start the meal.

"Did you say something, mossy?" Sanji asked, teasingly, as he took a seat across from Zoro.

"Nothing."

As soon as the blond picked up his utensils, Zoro picked up his; and at the first bite, the flavors exploded in his mouth then softly melted at the end before sliding down his throat.

"Like it, marimo?" Sanji asked, with a droopy smile and an innocent glint in his eyes.

Like it? That's a terrible understatement.

"It's alright," Zoro responded, he didn't need to fuel the blond's arrogance. And Sanji seemed pretty satisfied with his answer.

After a couple more bites, the green haired man remembered something. "Oi, your hands, are they okay?" If it had been a week already, Zoro would've been out of here. But it hadn't been, so Sanji shouldn't have been doing strenuous things- like cooking.

"I'm fine. Geez, you're acting like that old geezer I have for a father," he simpered, looking quite pleased.

Zoro snorted.

"So, mind if I ask what happened yesterday?" Sanji asked, with his visible curly brow raised and his forehead wrinkled.

The green haired man swallowed, then answered uncomfortably, "I took you home because you passed out."

Sanji nodded, "Yeah I think I got that part, though it's still bugging me because my memories are all fuzzy, but remind me why you decided to stay on my bed?"

"Because I was tired?"

The blond's eyebrow rose further as his pupil dilated, "Why on my bed?"

It was uncanny why the words were fumbling inside Zoro's mouth as though he was at loss with what to say next. Of course, there was the truth, but how should he string the words of truth in ways that were not strange? "I mean you grabbed me when I tried to leave, so I stayed for the night. No worries, your virginity is still intact."

Fuck.

"Asshole," Sanji growled, but a bit under the reaction than what Zoro expected. "I was just wondering, I mean this is going to sound strange, but I haven't been able to get sleep in a long time; but when you were there, I was surprisingly able to get a good night sleep." His fingers fiddled with the filter of his cigarette that was already scorched halfway. "So..." His eyes flickered in a nervous manner.

"What?"

The blond grunted, "Never mind."

Zoro knitted his eyebrows. He hated those who threw the beginning of sentences out just to draw the rest back. It left him feeling terribly intrigued. "Just spit it out, dumb cook."

The cook appeared terrible flustered, his face turned scarlet as though the blood had gone all to his head. "I'm just saying, don't take this the weird way, but it was comfortable with you sleeping near me."

It's not such a big deal, what's got this prude's panties all bunched up?

"Sure, whatever."

Staying over meant free food like this every morning. Hell, it should be him jumping around in sheer happiness.

The two corners of Sanji's lips curled into a grin before he lifted himself off the chair to start his extended morning routine, of about twenty minutes in the bathroom trying to groom himself and another twenty minutes in his room to figure out what to wear.

As a repayment, Zoro decided to do the dishes.

The kids at the dojo greeted Zoro with much respect as they had for Sanji, for their power and strength.

It was a nice surprise to know how this green oaf was actually gentle with children, a huge softy for the young ones. Although half of his rude self was still distinct, there was this amiable look on his face, an expression that was never quite directed towards Sanji; and that sudden realization strangely tugged at his chest. But luckily, the children were there to distract him from his thoughts and feelings. They were asking strange questions, such as secret techniques to beat Zoro. The blond frowned and turned his head around to see the brute throwing children everywhere, showing absolutely no mercy.

Sanji groaned.

"Oi, don't you fucking throw the little ladies too, you brute."

The green haired man glowered at him because the children had noticed the profanity their teacher used, and Sanji felt repentant almost immediately that he had spewed the vile word out of his mouth. It was such a habit that he didn't even notice at times.

"Uh, Mr. Blackleg..." A fairly young girl with soft blush on her cheeks approached him. "With all due respect, I think it's quite unfair how you treat us girls. I want to become stronger, more stronger than the guys, but you refuse to teach us all fairly. Is it because I was born weaker than a boy?" Her voice slightly quivered and Sanji's heart jumped out its rib cage at the thought of making this little lady cry.

Dammit, that was not it! He just held a deep respect towards women. No matter what size they were.

When he was younger, his mother had always told him, "Respect women, honey, women are fragile because they live in fear." She had always told him the stories of how when she was a teenager, boys would not leave her alone. She was too beautiful for her own good, she said. No matter what she told the boys, they would touch her inappropriately as though they were earning points with each sexual gesture they showed her. Although Sanji had come to love beautiful women, for his own mother was a sure beauty, he had come to respect their boundaries. And he had come to act chivalrous around women, for he was not able to protect his beautiful mother before her death.

But, how could anyone understand the fundamental aspect that was the root of his actions?

He rumpled the little girl's hair and grinned widely, "Of course you're not weak. I was just afraid that you would beat me someday." The girl stopped crying as her expression brightened. "And if your only wish is to grow stronger, of course I shall fulfill it."

The girl smiled in excitement as she nodded vigorously.

Zoro approached him with a playful grin and lightly punched his arm. "Hey, we should have a fight to see who's stronger."

The blond tossed that idea around in his head.

"I heard there are some extra bamboo swords in the storage, you should get them. I would not want you to be at a total disadvantage," he responded, his cockiness dripping with each word.

"Bastard."

"Idiot mosquito repellent."

"Shitty cactus head."

The pair of them were still engaged in a fight even after all the children had left. They were sweating profusely and panting heavily, even though both of them had abnormal amounts of stamina. The swordsman glared at the blond, but silently, he was having too much fun. Dammit! He loved fighting against this lithe blond, this gutless and foul mouthed cook. His head was pumping with adrenaline, blood burning with exhilaration and passion. He loved fighting Kuina, but he also, as he had come to realize, loved fighting this blond and his powerful legs.

A voice disrupted Sanji's leg that had swung upward.

"Hello gentlemen."

Trafalgar Law, or Zoro's business partner, was standing by the door with a sadistic grin on his features. Perhaps sadistic because of his obsidian eyes. And at the sight of him, the blond lowered his legs and took out a cigarette from his pockets.

"Oi, state your business with me," Zoro said as he glowered at the man, wondering what the hell he wanted.

Law took off his white hat that had brown splotches all over. He cleared his throat, "Zoro, our boss just called to inform us that we are in fact working tonight. He was quite furious on the phone."

The blond glanced at the two of them, curiosity scribbled on his face, eyes squinted and bottom lip drawn forward. "What are you talking about? You guys work together? Is this the night job that I keep hearing about? I demand some answers, assholes."

"Ah, I see that you haven't told our little friend anything. Keeping him safe, I see. Quite a gentle action, contrasting the usual demon I see," Law chuckled.

Sanji growled, "Fuck you."

The green haired man sighed, "If that's all, then you can leave. I already knew since the boss calls the two of us."

Law clearly hadn't come to deliver a message, but rather, to aggravate the him or the blond, or maybe both. When Trafalgar Law left, he left an unexplained situation and a demanding blond behind.

But surprisingly, the blond remarked, "I know, I know, I have to mind my own business. I get it, I won't ask, okay?" He sighed. "But," he held up his index finger, "You have to answer my other questions, alright?"

"Only a few," Zoro grumbled.

Admittedly, Sanji had a certain charisma that the swordsman could not refuse, just like certain individuals he knew off the top of his head.

Initially, the questions began simple, such as, "What's your favorite color?" or "How old are you?" or "What's your ethnicity?" In which Zoro answered without a single hesitation, "Green, twenty-one, and Japanese." But the personal level of these questions increased with each one, making him slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand.

The pair of them were sharing a lunch at an Italian restaurant that Sanji had recommended. Since the names on the menu were difficult to pronounce, he had gave the responsibility to the blond to handle. And although the food was not as good as what he had this morning, it was still way better than what he usually ate.

"So, tell me about you and Kuina." The blond had been probing at this topic for awhile now, in which Zoro had swerved around from to avoid the questions from becoming any deeper.

"What's there to say?" Zoro asked with a tiny smirk.

Sanji's crease deepened, "You're messing with me!" He held up the fork threateningly as he pulled his face up close to Zoro's. "Fine, fine, you clearly want to avoid this topic." He leaned back against the spine of the chair. "Let me ask you another question. What is your dream?"

The green haired man raised a brow, "You mean like... career-wise?"

"No, you dimwit, a fucking dream. It doesn't have to be a career, you have one, don't you? I mean, I assume it's swordsmanship since that's an outdated activity you still carry on."

Zoro twitched.

"I want to become the greatest swordsman," he answered in a stiff tone of voice.

Sanji leaned in, his eyes squinted, "Tell me, how are you going to achieve that goal? I know there are illegal sword competitions, but is it possible that you are working underground?"

Shit, the topic was getting too profound. He needed to stay on the edge, but it was so difficult with this blond sniffing around like some police mutt. "There is a man called Dracule Mihawk, who is known as the greatest swordsman. If I find him and defeat him, I earn the title of being the greatest."

"Mihawk?" The cook scrunched up his eyebrows. "He sounds... so familiar..."

Zoro's eyes widened, almost jumping out of his seat, "You know him? Do you know where I can find him?" Could it be? Could it be that this prissy blond was the key to his success?

"Oi, I said familiar. I could have just heard the name from somewhere."

Zoro let out a disappointing, "Oh."

The blond reversed the conversation by asking less personal questions; about hobbies, favorite TV shows, and stuff that people asked on their first date, or acquaintances beginning to get to know one another.

After finishing the pasta, which Sanji paid for, they began to walk around aimlessly, crossing random streets and walking a few blocks around the busy city.

"Where are we going now?" Zoro asked. He felt his pocket vibrate.

A text has been received. 'Hey, Zoro, I'm bored! Come to the dojo!' Kuina messaged him.

"I mean, I don't have anywhere else to go. I was about to go to Baratie, but then I remembered that I don't work there anymore, so I guess I'm going home. You can follow if you like." He inquisitively glanced over at Zoro who typed on his touch screen android.

"I have an idea if we don't have anything to do."

Sanji nodded.

'Okay, but I'm bringing someone.'

A slight awkwardness radiated off Kuina when they met again. Sanji did not glamorously greet her, nor did he fawn over her like he would with every other women.

Self control, self control, Sanji reminded himself.

His plan of taking Kuina away from Zoro was a long forgotten one, because as much as he hated admitting it, Zoro was a better fit for Kuina than him.

Although his hands have healed, he did not want Zoro to leave yet. There was this slight attachment he felt towards the man, not because Zoro was a great assistant who helped him heal (total sarcasm intended), but because he was a great company in general. Admittedly, the man was like a friend and considerably a competent sparring partner that Sanji never had; and speaking of sparring, Kuina and Zoro were up against one another. To Sanji, who had never actually seen a swordplay, this was an amazing eyeopener. Even without the significant knowledge in the field, just by the way those two moved, he could tell that the two of them were martial art masters.

After half an hour, Kuina walked over to Sanji. Her clothes awfully loose fitting on her body, sweat making her skin glow, and hair pieces sticking to her forehead.

It was quite sexy.

"Sanji, I heard from Zoro that you can hold a fight pretty well."

Zoro shouted, "I just said the cook and I fight a lot!"

"Well, anyone who can hold a candle against you must be good," she remarked towards Zoro who was drowning his water bottle. She turned around with a hint of playful grin on her features, "So, how about it?"

He would. He really would, but his morals were based off of protecting women, not fighting them. He could not possibly tell her that. It would hurt her pride terribly. She would not understand that he was trained to never raise his legs against a lady. "Sorry, Kuina-san, I'm not feeling that good."

He felt terrible lying to a lady.

Sounding disappointed, she responded, "Oh, maybe next time."

Sanji met Zoro's eyes, and quickly turned away. The swordsman was drilling a hole into his skull with that indecipherable look of his, possibly understanding or judging the blond for his choices.

As Zoro and Kuina did another swordplay, the blond decided to take a quick look around the dojo. His heart always tugged at Japanese architecture, food, and women. The place with bare cherry blossom and bonsai trees reminded him of the time when he and Nami spent their nights on the back porch of a Japanese designed hotel, her bright head resting on his lap, both wearing thin Japanese garments called 'yukatas'. Sanji squatted before a small pond, a few feet away from the dojo, where the gold fishes swam around.

"I don't believe I know you," a soft voice of a man spoke behind him.

Sanji turned his head to meet a tall Japanese man with thick circle glasses standing behind him, his arms crossed and his lips curled into a gentle smile. The blond stood and stretched out his hand in front of him, "Sorry, sir. I'm Zoro's friend and I wandered around the dojo without your permission. This place is beautiful by the way, it reminds me of the time I went to Japan."

The man chuckled, "Well, I was certainly going for that." He shook Sanji's hand. "My name is Koshiro. Zoro never brought any friends over before, you are the first one."

To remain formal, the blond introduced himself before proceeding with his questions. "I am Sanji. Pardon my rudeness, but are you Zoro's father?" After all, they were both Japanese and it would explain Zoro's love for swordsmanship.

Koshiro shook his head, "No, I am Kuina's father. Zoro's just a boy who has lived here most of his life. I am just an old man waiting for the day he becomes my son-in-law." He chuckled with good humor, relaxing Sanji's tense shoulders.

The blond forced a laughter since it wasn't that funny to him, but he didn't want to displease this man. He was so damn nice. "Where are his parents?"

"I am afraid that's a question Zoro will have to answer for you."

A small part of Sanji was frustrated because every time he asked a question about Zoro, he only got a mouth full of sand. He wanted to know why he was even trying anymore. But even so, the blond incessantly asked questions about Zoro to this kind man who seemed willing to talk, and he picked up on certain things while he got Koshiro reminiscing about Zoro's childhood. He found out that Kuina and Zoro used to be close sparring partners until they became lovers, and that Zoro used to get his ass kicked by Kuina all the fucking time. And their conversations lasted until nightfall. Koshiro was so easy to talk to since he was open minded about every topic Sanji threw at him.

"Oi, cook, let's go," Zoro's voice said behind the two men who sat around the pond, around the time the sun dropped its bright gaze until it turned the sky crimson.

The blond jumped to his feet and dipped his head, a respectful bow he picked up from Japan as a sign of respect, to Koshiro. "Thank you so much." Over these few hours, he had gained a high respect for this man. He understood why Zoro came to this place so much as a child.

"Nice meeting you, Sanji," Koshiro told him with a smile.

Back in Zoro's car, to fill the empty silence that had fallen upon them, Zoro said, "I see that you have met my teacher." He cranked on the engine and drove away from the rocky driveway, reaching the highway after a few turns around the corners.

"Yeah."

Afterwards, with the darkness blanketing over their features, the pair remained in a comfortable silence, and Sanji felt his eyelids drooping over his eyes.

"I'm gonna drop you off because I got work tonight." From his tone of voice, he was tired too. "I'm gonna take you up on the offer of sleeping at your house tonight, alright? Your house is closer anyways. Is that alright?"

Sanji nodded, but since it was dark, he mumbled, "Mmhmm... I'll leave the key under the doormat."

"I might awake you though," the other man whispered softly, in a kind manner as Koshiro had been this whole day.

The blond croaked out, "It's alright."

Then the silence was back between them, as comfortable as it had been a couple of minutes ago.

Feeling tired and cranky, Zoro drove to his usual workplace, which was a half an hour drive from Sanji's house and a forty-five minute from his; and as always, his partner was in the parking lot waiting for him by his car, which Zoro parked his next to. His expression was grim, unlike earlier when he was grinning sadistically from ear to ear.

"Mr. 1, you're finally here. I have the boss' list of chores written here for us."

Law handed Zoro a paper with neatly written cursive letters. After a quick scan down the list, Zoro took out his lighter and burned the inflammable paper.

"Let's get this over with, Doctor Death."

As usual, the chores included threatening some stupid old men who refused to pay up for the drugs his boss gave them. With a push of his blade up to their necks, most of them pissed their pants and wrote them a check. And as usual, his partner did not do a thing. He stood by while Zoro did all the dirty work. It was fair since Law, or Doctor Death, was the brain of this partnership. They made a nice team in an uncanny way.

The tasks were easy to execute, but it took time.

By the time the two were finished, it was 4 A.M., and Zoro was simply exhausted. Law, being insomniac, seemed unaffected by the lack of sleep. He agreed for Zoro to head home before him, which the swordsman was grateful for, since he did not want to spend another hour reporting everything back to their boss and the boss' partner.

Although he and Law had been partners for years now, they never exchanged conversations, even after they'd shared their names. Neither of them, or the rest of the workers of this organization, talked about themselves because that showed vulnerability. So even though they have been together for many years, they hardly knew a single thing about one another. And only a few of Zoro's friends knew that he was a part of a dangerous and illegal organization. It wasn't like he didn't trust them or anything, but if his boss got that string of information, he would track his friends until the ends of their lives. Zoro did not want to risk anyone's safety, especially those close to him.

"Roronoa Zoro," A cruel looking man with a scar that ran horizontally across his face and a cigar held in his mouth said, "I heard about your achievements and dreams. I know you're looking for Dracule Mihawk. If you join me, I can help you find him. You'll be very useful to me. Of course, I'll be paying you as well, but don't expect much. It's a win-win for the two of us, how about it?" He had a derisive smile on his face, a presumptuous aura radiating off him as he rested one of his elbows on the expensive leather chair.

Zoro, who had been desperate for years now, searching for the man with the title of best swordsman, was tempted by this offer. However, he was wary of this man named Crocodile, whom he had heard terrible rumors about.

"What would I have to do if I agree to your terms."

He had just turned twenty and hadn't begun his relationship with Kuina yet.

Crocodile ran his thick fingers through his oily black hair, brushing his hair back and allowing loose strands to fall over his eyes. "Oh, just simple chores, really. Of course, the higher you climb the ranks the less days you have to work, and the higher position you'll have in my plans for a utopia. But right now, I'm astounded by your raw power, so I'm not quite sure how to rank you."

Zoro retorted fiercely, "I don't care about your world, my only goal is to find Mihawk. And why does it matter if I have a higher rank or not, all I need to do is help you, right?"

Through the man's mouth, a smog of smoke escaped as the red end of his cigar burned to ashes. "The higher your rank is, the higher the chance that Dracule Mihawk will declare you worthy and take your offer on fighting him. That man doesn't fight just anyone, you know. Being you are currently, without a rank or an organization to back you up, you are worthless to an infamous name like him. But of course, to climb the ranks, you have to knock down those who are currently in it."

Zoro contemplated on the man's propositions and smirked mischievously, "Who has the position right beneath yours?"

Crocodile let loose a cruel laughter, his expression terribly frightening as the corners of his lips curled upwardly. "Interesting. You are asking for Mr.1's position yet you have not even joined yet. If I have not had anything to offer, would you have taken my position as the boss?"

"I would," the swordsman asked, a cocky smirk remnant on his features.

The laughter died in the man's throat, and although his face still held a grin, it was empty of any good humor. The joke was no longer there.

He lifted his arm from beneath the desk, one that wasn't holding his cigar, and rested his hand on the mahogany surface... except it wasn't a hand... it was a sharpened gold hook that gleamed underneath the light. "If you can beat the one with the current position as Mr. 1, I'll gladly hand the title to you. Now, scatter, new agent of mine."

As he turned, his furred coat that hung from his shoulders swung. And Zoro had not seen the man since.

That fragment of his memory remained clear as a day, like it had just occurred yesterday. But he could never forget, that Crocodile's offer was coming to an end. Soon, he will be the greatest swordsman in the world, and of course Kuina will have to verse him for the title.

Cook? he wondered as he jabbed the key from underneath the doormat into the keyhole, curious if the blond had stayed awake for him. But then, why would he?

At a leisure pace, Zoro took his shoes off and threw them on the side before stepping in with his feet covered with socks. He let loose a large yawn and felt the perspiration gather in his eyes and his vision clouding. He hung his black jacket on the coat hanger before heading inside to the bedroom where the cook slept, but before walking in, he heard painful wheezes and coughs from inside.

Cook? he wondered again.

Zoro walked in, half expecting Sanji to be having a medical attack, but instead the blond was groaning in his sleep, panting heavily. His legs and arms wildly swinging from time to time. "Go away," he softly whispered, his face scrunched up as though frightened by his nightmares. He was cowering into a ball, whimpering as his limbs fought the monsters from his dreams, appearing like a scared little boy.

"Hey," Zoro shook him gently, wrapping his fingers around his skinny upper arm, which was cold.

But from that small touch, the blond stilled, his expression calm again and the stress gone from his features.

Zoro furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if it was his touch that calmed the little blond boy of Sanji's dreams. He kept his warm hand on the blond's arm, left it there, as he slipped under the covers, careful to reassure the sleeping cook that he was there. And as though it were his instincts, once he went under the covers, he had the urge to wrap his arms around the slender man protectively and pull the heavily breathing man closer to his chest. He wondered silently if this was why Sanji asked him earlier to stay with him.

Curiously, his fingers brushed the blond's loose strands of his hair out of his eyes to keep it from sticking to his sweat beaded forehead. He felt Sanji's breath on his collarbones, even inhales and exhales, and sound asleep, into a dream that wasn't so scary.

The swordsman always had this image of Sanji, one that was prissy, spoiled, and egoistical; but seeing this facet of his fears, seeing him so terrified of his own dreams, presumably caused by a trauma in the past, it connected Zoro to this man. It also made him protective of this man. Whatever trauma he suffered, a scar that lingered firmly across his heart, he did not want the blond to feel it anymore.

His chin rested on top of Sanji's head as the blond's head buried deep into his chest. He snaked his arm beneath Sanji's head so he could use Zoro's arm as a pillow. Their bodies strangely molded together, body against body, like two puzzle pieces meant to fit. Zoro raked his fingers through the cook's hair as the blond head snuggled closer to his chest; and before he could fall into deep slumber, Zoro smelt the intoxicating scent of tobacco and spices drifting into his senses.

AN: Aha~ I finished editing this... It had so many errors... ahhh.

Anyways, there is a lot of information revealed on this chapter. Zoro is in a secret organization, but he is not an assassin. Just a dog for Crocodile. I know in the one piece chapters, Crocodile's face remained a secret even to his own agents, but I just don't think things work out like that in real life. However, I do believe that they have code names. Zoro's code name is Mr. 1 because I think if that badass has to be anyone's dog, he would be a top one. And his partner is Law or Doctor Death, whose past I might or might not get in depth with.

Sanji's headcanon... I do think this about the manga too. He has serious women fixation issues and I think that's because, not only did he grow up with males as a teenager, but because he had a very nurturing mother as a child. That's why he always feels the need to protect women because his beautiful mother was taken away from him at a young age, when he could not fight properly yet. And somehow he ended up on that crew ship, to probably make money and survive and shit.

I hope you guys liked the fluff at the end. I also think Zoro has this secret nurturing side, but he just calls it impulse. LOL.