Title: Roronoa Zoro: Cabin Boy
Universe: One Piece
Theme/Topic: Recreational Activities
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: Zoro, Sanji (passing mentions of ZoSan)_
Warnings/Spoilers: For some reason, this just feels OOC to me. LOL Probably Sanji’s nastiness. XD No spoilers though!
Word Count: 1,078
Summary: Sanji thinks Zoro has too much free time.
Dedication: requested by
tsuki_neesan for my fic for charity request post! Thanks for the donation, my love! (those of you who want to make donations/request fic, see
this post.
A/N: Yeaaah, I am out of practice with One Piece. >> This kind of… doesn’t seem like them to me. Yet, it was how it came out. LOL I guess I just oh, NEED A NEW EPISODE to be released so I can get back in the groove? That would be nice. My memory tends to distort characterization when left to it’s own devices for too long. -_-;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Sanji decided that Zoro clearly had far too much free time on his hands.
“Go work out,” he snarled at the Mass of Useless ™ currently stretched out in the corner of the galley, calmly watching the blond cook (of all ridiculous things).
“Worked out already,” Zoro grunted in response, casually.
“Work out more,” Sanji shot back, “you never train enough, right?”
“Can’t lift today,” Zoro said slowly, as if Sanji was very stupid. “Lifted yesterday. Was doing the cardio just now, but that damn devil woman made me stop because she said I was testosterone poisoning the environment or something. She hit me.”
“Nami-swan needs absolute peace and quiet and nothing-bad-smelling-nearby for her sunbathing,” Sanji sniffed. “So she definitely wouldn’t want you anywhere in sight.”
Zoro grinned a little at that. “So I’m here.”
Sanji scowled and really couldn’t stand the sight of the bastard’s face all smug like that when there wasn’t sex involved somewhere in the equation (and even then, eyes closed was the best way to go about things as far as he was concerned). “Can’t you not bother Nami-swan somewhere else? I’m working, asshole. Some of us actually have duties on this ship, you know. Duties. Jobs. Which you don’t have, apparently.”
Zoro ignored him. “What’re you making now?”
Sanji “arghed” and went back to cutting his mushrooms. “Mushrooms. Stop talking.”
One chop, two chop, three…
“Mushrooms and what?”
“Just mushrooms.”
“That’s not food.”
“It’s food. You can eat it. Food. Get the hell out of here.”
Zoro snorted. “Luffy ate dirt yesterday. Doesn’t make it food.”
“Well clearly dirt can count as food when our idiot captain is involved. Aren’t you clever? Leave.”
“There should be meat.”
“So what, so you’re the cook now?”
“If I was I’d be cooking. But I’m not,” Zoro pointed out, and was still making pains to talk slowly to the cook.
Sanji clenched his jaw. “GO AWAY.”
Zoro didn’t.
Sanji started chopping angry then, and sometimes that made for uneven slices. He scowled.
Zoro shrugged. “I like meat is all.”
Sanji ignored him.
Which got him blessed silence for another-two strokes of his knife.
“You cut too slow.”
The chef bristled. “What?”
Zoro crossed his arms. “You heard me. Bet I would have finished by now.”
Too much time on his hands, Sanji thought to himself, unconsciously tightening his grip around his knife just a little bit. The bastard definitely had too much time on his hands.
Which was why he was lounging casually around on the floor provoking fights while Sanji actually had a job to do on this ship. Because he was the cook. Which meant he didn’t have time to go around prodding the dumbass marimo into an argument that would inevitably degenerate into an insult match and then a fight and from there, into a…a…
Waitaminute.
Sanji blinked.
Stared at Zoro.
Zoro, who looked just about ready to stand up and start an argument. That would degenerate into an insult match. That would then degenerate into a fight. And from there into a…a…
Sanji nearly slapped himself in the forehead for being so oblivious.
Dumbass bastard.
He refused to take part in that sort of juvenile behavior, and if Zoro really had nothing better to do with his free time then that was his problem, not the cook’s.
Sanji wordlessly returned to his mushrooms.
Juvenile. He definitely wouldn’t stoop to the same level as the bastard marimo and…
Then he got an idea.
That may or may not have been a bit juvenile. But to be fair, Zoro had started it.
“You’d have finished by now, huh?” he asked after a brief pause, and nearly grinned outright when he spoke.
Zoro blinked, a bit surprised at the sudden change in the blond’s demeanor-from menacing doom to calmly smug in three point two seconds. Definitely something to be wary of. But still nothing to back down from. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d have finished by now.”
Sanji smirked. “Fine.”
Zoro nodded. “Fine.”
He turned and offered the knife to the swordsman. “Show me.”
Zoro stared. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I already said I wasn’t the cook.”
Sanji shrugged. “And because you don’t actually have a job on this ship, we call you the dumbass who cuts things a lot. So? Or… are you backing out on what you said earlier? All talk after all, huh?”
Zoro glared.
Sanji just smiled.
Sometime later, while Zoro was muttering crossly to himself and cutting vegetables at the chopping board- he was surprisingly cute in a pink apron and bandana- Sanji gave in and admitted to himself that having the swordsman in the galley every now and again was acceptable under certain (very particular) circumstances.
Though his technique really, really sucked.
“Thinner,” Sanji ordered, and smacked Zoro upside the head with a military kind of sharpness when he wasn’t satisfied with the swordsman’s handiwork. “You’re really bad at this.”
Zoro looked like he was going to growl something waspish in return and maybe even throw a punch, but the chef simply fluttered past him without a backwards glance-king of his domain- and went to check the temperature of his pot. “You have a lot of training to do before you can defeat me,” he added after a moment, with a nasty little smirk.
Roronoa’s jaw clenched by rote. “I’ll definitely kick your ass!” he snarled, without thinking.
Then paused.
Frowned.
Glared.
“Fuck.”
Sanji just snickered. “Better keep practicing then, hm?” he said, and went to the storage closet to get some onions out for the asshole to cut up next.
After that, there was a veritable mountain of potatoes.
And carrots.
And cabbage.
And a pineapple or two, because dessert still had to be made for tonight, and suddenly pineapple cake sounded like a good idea to the blond.
Zoro glowered the entire time.
And Sanji decided that maybe having the idiot wanting to spend all his free time in the galley wasn’t as bad a thing as he’d initially thought.
Under certain, very particular circumstances anyway.
Absently, the chef wondered what he’d have to get the idiot to blurt out so he’d have to sweep the floors for the next couple of months too.
He figured it was worth a shot, all things considered.
In the meantime, he’d finally discovered Roronoa Zoro’s official title as a member of the Strawhat Pirates.
It was, he decided as he watched the apron-clad swordsman start on the onions, surprisingly fitting.
END
EDITS PLZ.