As Sanji stared at the utter mess his kitchen cabinets had been reduced to, he decided he really was sick and tired of this asshole marimo living here. Fucking moving in, unwanted, taking up space, free-loading on Sanji's hard-earned paycheck, demanding booze every other second, letting some strange kid off the street move in with them, and now this!?

Was he retarded, or just plain dumb? How hard was it to put groceries away? Seriously, Sanji could not comprehend how brain-dead one had to be to not be able to look in a fucking cabinet and decided, "Hmm, it doesn't make much sense to put the baking powder with the potato chips, or the canned peas with the pistachios!"

Jesus H. Christ!

Sanji had a system, goddamnit! There were rules to his kitchen! It flowed, for God's sake, couldn't the fucking moss-head see that? And now all the grocery bags were strewn around the counter, not put away, and all the cabinets were in disarray, the inner zen of Sanji's sacred space utterly decimated by some ignorant asshole. Sanji had rarely wanted to kill someone more than he did that fucking moron!

With a resigned growl, the cook decided this just couldn't go on any longer. That marimo had to get the fuck out, now! He didn't even give a shit how much Luffy and that new kid liked him; his ass was out the door, as of that very moment. Besides, all Luffy needed was a big enough steak, and he'd get over pretty much anything.

So it was official. The fucker was moving out.

…Now where the hell was he?

Tearing his eyes away from this latest travesty, he looked around the living room briefly, and discovered that not only was the moss-head missing, but no one was anywhere in sight. They had to have left; it was way too fucking quiet for Luffy to have been in the apartment. But as he listened more carefully, he could make out the dull sound of metal knocking against metal.

Frowning slightly, Sanji moved away from the kitchen, following the curious sound, trailing it all the way its source: behind Zoro's closed door. There was a particularly loud clank, followed by muttered cursing, and then relative silence again.

What the fuck is he doing? Sanji thought, but then shook his head firmly. He didn't want to know, it probably wasn't anything worthwhile anyway. He'd found the bastard. That's all that mattered. Now he was gonna kick his ass out.

So, setting his jaw, Sanji took a breath and then kicked the door open, ready to launch into a furious tirade, only to stop short at the oddity he had stumbled upon: Zoro lay on his back on the floor, brow furrowed deeply and tongue set between his teeth as he attempted to screw two metal rods together at a ninety-degree angle. A set of directions lay spread open on the floor next to the marimo's left knee; it was a diagram of that camper-cot they had picked up on their way back from the market. Looked like the asshole was pretty much done with it.

Sure, he can assemble a goddamn bed, but the dumbass can't put groceries away properly!, he thought, irritation flaring again as he remembered what he'd come in here for.

"Oi, shithead," Sanji said, to announce his otherwise ignored presence.

Zoro spared him a brief glance before returning to his work. "'The hell do you want, Curly-cue?"

Sanji growled low, aiming a harsh kick at the fucker's shin.

Zoro grunted, eyes returning to the cook with a heated glare. "What the fuck is your problem, asshole?"

"Well for one, you could fucking look at me when I'm talking to you, you goddamn waste of space!"

Zoro rolled his eyes, once again deeming the blonde not-worth-his-time as he went back to the final screw he was trying to set in place. "I'm busy, fuckface. Leave me alone…tch," he scoffed, this time at the screw, as he yanked the piece of metal out of the hole in the rod and glared at it. "…fucker's stripped," he muttered. He tossed it aside and fished a different one out of his pocket, then set back to work.

Sanji watched him for a second, almost too pissed for words and unable to stop all the violent fantasies that flashed through his mind. Such a vulnerable position for the moss-head to be in. In one fell swoop, Sanji could crush his fucking head.

Or, Sanji smirked evilly, his dick!

Before he could get too carried away with his visions of utterly mutilating the infuriating asshole, said asshole suddenly asked, "Oi, the kids back yet?"

Ignoring the bizarrely domestic sound to the question, Sanji just frowned at the man below him. "No. Did they leave?"

"Yeah. Luffy wanted to show the new guy some arcade game about pirates at this pizzeria. Or something." Zoro clenched his jaw as he gave the screw-driver a particularly powerful turn. "That's good though. I can probably get this done before they get back."

"Why's it gotta be done? It's only afternoon. The kid won't need it 'til tonight."

"He's exhausted," Zoro said simply, running a thumb over the screw in its place before giving the support beams a good shake. "Can't really fall asleep in an alley if it's your first time doing it."

Sanji just sneered at him. "Well congratulations, dipshit. In your infinite benevolence, you gave the kid a rickety, piece-of-shit cot with someone else's money. You're the goddamn Mother Theresa, you are!"

The moss-head glowered at him a second, but before any more insults could be thrown, the apartment door slid open suddenly, and Luffy's unmistakable whoops of delight could be heard as the two laughing boys stumbled inside.

Zoro pulled himself out from under the skeleton of the bed and threw the mattress and pillow on top, hastily draping a sheet over it, and throwing himself roughly on the cot, testing how well it would hold up.

When the bed failed to collapse on him, much to Sanji's disappointment, the marimo suddenly called out, "Oi, Chopper! Come here, your bed's ready!"

Pissed off at being ignored again, Sanji opened his mouth to tell the obnoxious fucker off, when the boy came tumbling awkwardly in, vibrating slightly and hiding the wrong way behind the door frame. Zoro looked at him and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

"That one's yours."

Chopper shrunk back a second, stammering something about how he wasn't happy just because Zoro gave him a bed, even though he seemed pretty damn pleased. Eventually the kid sidled his way into the room, hugging up against the wall as though Zoro and Sanji weren't right there in the room, watching him, and he reached out a tentative hand to touch the covers of his new bed…

…the bed that, Sanji now realized, was actually Zoro's. Well…it used to be Zoro's, anyway…

The cook blinked stupidly, watching as the kid slowly sat down on the bed's edge, bouncing slightly, running his hand over the pillows almost reverently, as though he hadn't seen a bed in years. Tears welled in his brown eyes, but he still reached across the narrow space between bed and cot to punch Zoro's arm, saying he hated it when people were nice to him, goddamnit, even though he was rolling around on the bed and grinning from ear-to-ear.

Zoro just shook his head, chuckling slightly, and it was the first time Sanji had heard anything like a laugh out of the stoic asshole, but he couldn't really tell what it sounded like, since Luffy bounded in the room just then, wondering where everyone had gone. With a triumphant cry, the dark-haired boy launched himself on the bed with Chopper, and the two of them immediately started a pillow fight, which Zoro seemed quite intent on not being a part of. Until a stray pillow hit him square in the face, and then the marimo growled, grabbing up his own ammunition and going after his laughing assailants.

Sanji harrumphed bad-naturedly and stalked out of the room. He marched straight into the kitchen, grabbed up his wallet that was really too light for this sort of shit, and then headed for the door, hating himself and growing more irritated with every step.

The bastard was still a bastard, as far as Sanji was concerned. But he figured he'd probably seen worse.

Somewhere.

Maybe.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oi, finish unloading the groceries, asshole!" the annoying cook's equally-annoying voice called through the open door of the room Zoro now shared with the new kid. The swordsman groaned, deciding it'd been a stupid idea to meditate while Luffy and Chopper were playing video games, anyway, and hoisted himself off the floor, walking across the apartment to the kitchen, where a paper bag from a store they hadn't even gone to that day stood waiting on the counter to be unpacked.

"You fucking dartboard!" Zoro yelled, even though the fucker wasn't in sight. "You bought this shit just now! Put it away yourself!"

"Just unload it, you green-haired ape!" came the cook's disembodied voice from somewhere off to Zoro's right, presumably the bastard's room. "And so help me God, if you complain one more time, I'll kick your face through the goddamn wall!"

Muttering something dastardly and murderous under his breath, Zoro sullenly reached into the bag, and realized there was only one thing inside it. A little confused, he grabbed whatever it was, a bottle of some sort, and pulled it out of the bag.

Zoro looked at the label on the bottle.

Then he rubbed his eyes, and read it again.

It still said the same thing: Sakura, Fine-Aged Sake.

He blinked a couple of times, mind failing to grasp how exactly this bottle of wonderfulness came to be. But he shrugged, twisted off the cap, and decided he didn't give a shit about the "how"…

…except he knew only one person in this apartment had any money. Zoro looked from the opened bottle of sake, to the wall the kitchen shared with that blonde asshole's bedroom. Then he sighed, took a hearty swallow from the bottle, savoring the nice clean bite he felt from good booze, and twisted the cap back on before storing it in the very back of one of the bottom cabinets in the kitchen. He might as well try and make it last.

God only knew when that stingy fucker would cough up another bottle.

Ne...isn't it cute how Sanji, instead of hating Zoro for being a jerk, he hates him even more for being a nice guy. Sanji's retarded. :P