Number 2! (oh no I have out written my set for #3 already!)
Title:The girls go crazy for a sharp dressed Man (but they don't marry them)
Theme:Set 4: Ugly Shirts
Claim:(chibi)Sanji
Words:1,515
Rating:PG13
Warnings:none
Disclaimer(s): I don't own one piece.
Zeff had unwittingly created a monster or perhaps someone else had (and considering the timing he had a decent suspicion on the culprit). The kid wasn't anywhere even near sixteen yet and had more dress shirts and suits than the rest of the chefs aboard the Baratie combined. It was almost laughable now, looking back at how hard it had been to get the brat in his first suit for the black tie event a few months before.
The female customers would ooh and ahh at the cute boy in the suit and unwittingly encourage him further. A clothes horse didn't even begin to cover it and Zeff couldn't help but feel begrudgingly impressed at how Sanji went about selecting pieces and putting them together as if it were a gourmet meal and come out of his room looking sharper and more put together than not only the chefs but the customers as well.
The kid definitely wasn't going to grow up to be some rough pirate that was overly violent and caused trouble, like he had been. No, If clothes man the man then his tiny eggplant was well on his way to being a refined, well thought out, creative, and expensive young man. For that, he could only assume he wasn't doing too bad a job as an accidental parental stand in.
The messenger gull had brought the thickest Doskoi Panda invoice to date this morning and even as he poured over it and blanched at the current outstanding balance, an ink pen was already filling out the appropriate spaces and signing a check in payment. It was up to him to handle the kids finances and since the brat did more than his fair share of work (not that he'd tell him that) he made sure there was an account in the register that was compensated to reflect that. He was dividing the kids share between education (knives, shoes special ordered, and his own starter sets of cookware), future expenses (medical, money for a boat the kid would probably need when he was old enough), necessities (food, clothes, toothbrushes), and luxury (a category that until this point was basically used to buy an occasional birthday present for the other chefs or books). Suits and fine apparel were now a quickly added addition to the luxury category.
He was removing his seldom used reading glasses when the mini haute couture monster in question peaked in and seeing he was busy turned to sneak away. He grinned privately. The kid would never ask him to share a meal with him. Zeff stretched and decided to make his morning appearance for breakfast anyway, since it was about that time.
Sanji made a pretty good omelet for them both and Zeff scoffed at the attempt. That he was pretty sure the kid understood to mean, more salt next time, less oil. Pretty good was still not good enough if he had been watching properly. Sanji grabbed the plates and headed back to the kitchen to wash them with a snort of disapproval at the criticism leaving Zeff to enjoy his morning tea.
The Baratie was slow this morning as it tended to be but he wasn't surprised when the grizzled old trader merchant by the name of Mitzie saddled up next to him at the bar. She was as much of a regular as they got with the sheer amount of traveling she did. Sanji saw her through the kitchen look through and started on her usual order after a quick greeting.
Mitzie elbowed the old chef in the ribs in a way he certainly wouldn't tolerate from anyone else and lowered her voice.
"He's growing up to be quite a looker, Chef."
Zeff grumbled at that. He really didn't want to deal with what that would mean in the future.
"It's such a shame!"
"Shame?"
"He's polite, considerate, neat, clean, and a nice dresser. I have a few friends like that and they don't exactly consider me their type if you get what I'm saying."
It was hard to imagine such a tough as nails old bat like Mitzie being anyone's type so it took a moment to realize what she was getting at. When he did he promptly snorted at the implication.
"I doubt it. He's already becoming a little more of a dumbass around girls everyday." There was a small twinge of doubt pecking somewhere in his brain that he had to acknowledge though. "If he does prefer men, that's alright so long as he's a good one that doesn't take any shit and keeps his skills sharp. Women are nothing but trouble anyway."
"You say that now, ya old buzzard but you've loved hard in the past haven't you? And you know you'd love to see some grand babies running around here at some point."
"Grand...babbies?" He hadn't ever thought of the kid as a full blown adult, in love, and with kids of his own. Little kids running around, calling out, 'Grampa Zeff!' and hugging his leg with all the love and innocence their would be father and grandpa had problems ever consciously showing. He was stunned at the image invading his brain.
"Of course, even if he goes after the gals they might not think him genuine if he's always so perfectly packaged. Ya know? If they don't think he'd be batting for the other team they might think he's hiding something if they can't see no flaw. Sometimes untouchable is just a precursor to lonely."
Sanji emerged from the kitchen with perfect poise carrying two oversized trays of food. Still an impeccable appearance in his well made clothes. The apron helped with that of course but it still showed that his skill was growing that he escaped the flecks of grease and sauce that would sometimes erupt from the pan.
Perhaps Mitzie gave him some food for thought. Lonely was something he sure as hell wouldn't wish on Sanji again. If only the brat wasn't so damn cute to begin with or the clothes weren't so damn formal and serious. His mind drifted back to the Doskoi Panda catalog on his desk they had sent with the invoice. He was getting an idea.
A week or so later Sanji was holding up a short sleeved patterned shirt with green triangles and blue paisley muted in the background. It was one of the ugliest shirts he'd ever seen. Bordering on ridiculous.
"I didn't order this." Sanji said with finality and made to stuff the cotton abomination back in the box before Zeff stopped him.
"I did. It's a gift." He hadn't thought this through enough. Damn Mitzie! But the innocent calls for 'Grampa Zeff' kept his voice even.
"A gift?" Sanji wasn't buying it.
"You think the rest of us feel comfortable watching you in hundred plus degrees go off on your day off in a suit? The other cooks like you fine but that behavior is weird."
"Like I give a damn." The kid huffed but he was still holding the shirt.
"Are you trying to appear better than everyone? Cause even if you don't mean too, by wearing formal all the time...you're missing out on some things. " He struggled for an example that Sanji would like. "Like if they want to teach you to fish? A suit is not only weird to wear for fishing but you're risking your good clothes forever stinking like dead fish." A light in the kids eyes said he said the right thing.
"A gift." Sanji repeated softly as he looked at the tag with a surprised grin. "It's Doskoi!"
"No excuse to skimp on quality." He shrugged and then looked pointedly at the boy, no reason not to enforce a lesson. "Right?"
"The best food starts from the best ingredients." Sanji returned in agreement and Zeff nodded with hidden pleasure. Suddenly Sanji started toward the door. "Going to put this on a hanger be right back."
When he returned Sanji was carrying a long box with a subdued blue ribbon. He held it out expectantly.
"What the hell is this for? It's not my birthday."
"It's not my birthday either and you never told me yours." The kid challenged back, full of spunk.
"Cause I don't want to start exchanging gifts with you!"
"You started it, shitty old man! Take it!"
"Damn bratty eggplant." He sighed in surrender as he opened the box. The tallest chefs hat he's ever seen. Truly ridiculous.
"Bigger the hat the better the chef right?" Sanji smirked away any embarrassment.
"That explains why you don't have one, right?" He snorted at the blonds frown but patted his head in a rough way that he hoped the kid to understand as thanks. Shit they were now exchanging gifts, he really didn't expect to feel this close to actually feeling like a father. Maybe he should focus more on the baby eggplant before worrying about his future kids if any.
That didn't stop him from buying the kid a new ugly shirt every year though. Just in case.
Theme:Set 4: Ugly Shirts
Claim:(chibi)Sanji
Words:1,515
Rating:PG13
Warnings:none
Disclaimer(s): I don't own one piece.
Zeff had unwittingly created a monster or perhaps someone else had (and considering the timing he had a decent suspicion on the culprit). The kid wasn't anywhere even near sixteen yet and had more dress shirts and suits than the rest of the chefs aboard the Baratie combined. It was almost laughable now, looking back at how hard it had been to get the brat in his first suit for the black tie event a few months before.
The female customers would ooh and ahh at the cute boy in the suit and unwittingly encourage him further. A clothes horse didn't even begin to cover it and Zeff couldn't help but feel begrudgingly impressed at how Sanji went about selecting pieces and putting them together as if it were a gourmet meal and come out of his room looking sharper and more put together than not only the chefs but the customers as well.
The kid definitely wasn't going to grow up to be some rough pirate that was overly violent and caused trouble, like he had been. No, If clothes man the man then his tiny eggplant was well on his way to being a refined, well thought out, creative, and expensive young man. For that, he could only assume he wasn't doing too bad a job as an accidental parental stand in.
The messenger gull had brought the thickest Doskoi Panda invoice to date this morning and even as he poured over it and blanched at the current outstanding balance, an ink pen was already filling out the appropriate spaces and signing a check in payment. It was up to him to handle the kids finances and since the brat did more than his fair share of work (not that he'd tell him that) he made sure there was an account in the register that was compensated to reflect that. He was dividing the kids share between education (knives, shoes special ordered, and his own starter sets of cookware), future expenses (medical, money for a boat the kid would probably need when he was old enough), necessities (food, clothes, toothbrushes), and luxury (a category that until this point was basically used to buy an occasional birthday present for the other chefs or books). Suits and fine apparel were now a quickly added addition to the luxury category.
He was removing his seldom used reading glasses when the mini haute couture monster in question peaked in and seeing he was busy turned to sneak away. He grinned privately. The kid would never ask him to share a meal with him. Zeff stretched and decided to make his morning appearance for breakfast anyway, since it was about that time.
Sanji made a pretty good omelet for them both and Zeff scoffed at the attempt. That he was pretty sure the kid understood to mean, more salt next time, less oil. Pretty good was still not good enough if he had been watching properly. Sanji grabbed the plates and headed back to the kitchen to wash them with a snort of disapproval at the criticism leaving Zeff to enjoy his morning tea.
The Baratie was slow this morning as it tended to be but he wasn't surprised when the grizzled old trader merchant by the name of Mitzie saddled up next to him at the bar. She was as much of a regular as they got with the sheer amount of traveling she did. Sanji saw her through the kitchen look through and started on her usual order after a quick greeting.
Mitzie elbowed the old chef in the ribs in a way he certainly wouldn't tolerate from anyone else and lowered her voice.
"He's growing up to be quite a looker, Chef."
Zeff grumbled at that. He really didn't want to deal with what that would mean in the future.
"It's such a shame!"
"Shame?"
"He's polite, considerate, neat, clean, and a nice dresser. I have a few friends like that and they don't exactly consider me their type if you get what I'm saying."
It was hard to imagine such a tough as nails old bat like Mitzie being anyone's type so it took a moment to realize what she was getting at. When he did he promptly snorted at the implication.
"I doubt it. He's already becoming a little more of a dumbass around girls everyday." There was a small twinge of doubt pecking somewhere in his brain that he had to acknowledge though. "If he does prefer men, that's alright so long as he's a good one that doesn't take any shit and keeps his skills sharp. Women are nothing but trouble anyway."
"You say that now, ya old buzzard but you've loved hard in the past haven't you? And you know you'd love to see some grand babies running around here at some point."
"Grand...babbies?" He hadn't ever thought of the kid as a full blown adult, in love, and with kids of his own. Little kids running around, calling out, 'Grampa Zeff!' and hugging his leg with all the love and innocence their would be father and grandpa had problems ever consciously showing. He was stunned at the image invading his brain.
"Of course, even if he goes after the gals they might not think him genuine if he's always so perfectly packaged. Ya know? If they don't think he'd be batting for the other team they might think he's hiding something if they can't see no flaw. Sometimes untouchable is just a precursor to lonely."
Sanji emerged from the kitchen with perfect poise carrying two oversized trays of food. Still an impeccable appearance in his well made clothes. The apron helped with that of course but it still showed that his skill was growing that he escaped the flecks of grease and sauce that would sometimes erupt from the pan.
Perhaps Mitzie gave him some food for thought. Lonely was something he sure as hell wouldn't wish on Sanji again. If only the brat wasn't so damn cute to begin with or the clothes weren't so damn formal and serious. His mind drifted back to the Doskoi Panda catalog on his desk they had sent with the invoice. He was getting an idea.
A week or so later Sanji was holding up a short sleeved patterned shirt with green triangles and blue paisley muted in the background. It was one of the ugliest shirts he'd ever seen. Bordering on ridiculous.
"I didn't order this." Sanji said with finality and made to stuff the cotton abomination back in the box before Zeff stopped him.
"I did. It's a gift." He hadn't thought this through enough. Damn Mitzie! But the innocent calls for 'Grampa Zeff' kept his voice even.
"A gift?" Sanji wasn't buying it.
"You think the rest of us feel comfortable watching you in hundred plus degrees go off on your day off in a suit? The other cooks like you fine but that behavior is weird."
"Like I give a damn." The kid huffed but he was still holding the shirt.
"Are you trying to appear better than everyone? Cause even if you don't mean too, by wearing formal all the time...you're missing out on some things. " He struggled for an example that Sanji would like. "Like if they want to teach you to fish? A suit is not only weird to wear for fishing but you're risking your good clothes forever stinking like dead fish." A light in the kids eyes said he said the right thing.
"A gift." Sanji repeated softly as he looked at the tag with a surprised grin. "It's Doskoi!"
"No excuse to skimp on quality." He shrugged and then looked pointedly at the boy, no reason not to enforce a lesson. "Right?"
"The best food starts from the best ingredients." Sanji returned in agreement and Zeff nodded with hidden pleasure. Suddenly Sanji started toward the door. "Going to put this on a hanger be right back."
When he returned Sanji was carrying a long box with a subdued blue ribbon. He held it out expectantly.
"What the hell is this for? It's not my birthday."
"It's not my birthday either and you never told me yours." The kid challenged back, full of spunk.
"Cause I don't want to start exchanging gifts with you!"
"You started it, shitty old man! Take it!"
"Damn bratty eggplant." He sighed in surrender as he opened the box. The tallest chefs hat he's ever seen. Truly ridiculous.
"Bigger the hat the better the chef right?" Sanji smirked away any embarrassment.
"That explains why you don't have one, right?" He snorted at the blonds frown but patted his head in a rough way that he hoped the kid to understand as thanks. Shit they were now exchanging gifts, he really didn't expect to feel this close to actually feeling like a father. Maybe he should focus more on the baby eggplant before worrying about his future kids if any.
That didn't stop him from buying the kid a new ugly shirt every year though. Just in case.