One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ All's Fair in Love and Psychological Warfare ❯ Zoro fails at manners ( Chapter 3 )

“A restaurant,” Zoro is complaining, “what are we going to a restaurant for?”

 

“It's a typical feature of a date, moron.”

 

“Yeah, but I just don't see any point in us going to a restaurant,” Zoro sighs, “what's the point of paying money for someone else's cooking, when in all likelihood it won't be as good as yours anyway?”

 

Sanji rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't be much of a date if half of the party was enslaved over a stove for the duration, now would it?”

 

Zoro doesn't really have much to say to this and just shrugs. An awkward silence descends and Zoro decides that maybe he ought to say something after all. “I meant it as a compliment,” he offers.

 

“Coming from you, it would be,” Sanji retorts.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means you're not in the practice of dishing out compliments.”

 

“Maybe that's because someone's been flooding the market with them, Mr. oh-Nami-your-toenails-are-more-beautiful-than-the-finest-alabaster-may-I-pr epare-you-a-relaxing-foot-soak?” Zoro mocks in a high pitched voice that rather fails to sound anything at all like Sanji.

 

“Someone's just jealous because the compliments weren't directed at them!”

 

Zoro has to make a conscious effort not to reply with, “damn straight.” He settles for a nice noncommittal scowl.

 

“Well anyway, we're here, and I promise it will be a decent restaurant, even if it doesn't live up to the high standards set by my culinary prowess.” Sanji opens the door to the restaurant and holds it expectantly.

 

“What the fuck are you waiting for, shitty cook?” Zoro asks with eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

“I'm waiting for you to go in, what do you think?”

 

“You're holding the fucking door open for me?!” Zoro bellows, “just who do you think I am, some pansy of a fucking girl?!”

 

“Just because my date is a big dumb oaf isn't any reason for me to lower my own standards of etiquette,” Sanji sneers back.

 

“Well you better start lowering them, if you don't want your `date' to break your shitty arm, kitchen boy.”

 

“Whatever, just come in and shut the hell up, people are staring.”

 

“Like we've never been stared at before,” mutters Zoro, but he obediently follows Sanji into the restaurant. He can't help noticing that the waiter seems a little edgy as he takes them to their table.

 

Sanji bows to the waiter and begins to pull out a chair for Zoro, before realizing that he's asking for a repeat of the scene they just created at the door. He quickly sits down in it himself, hoping Zoro didn't notice. “We'll start with Tiziano, please.” The waiter nods, and leaves a little faster than seems polite.

 

“I can't read this stupid menu,” Zoro scowls, “what language is it in, Zulu?!”

 

“Some of it's French, and some's Italian,” Sanji sighs, “why don't you just let me order for you?”

 

“Whatever, just get me some grog.”

 

“You can't order grog in a classy place like this!” Sanji is genuinely horrified.

 

“What?!”

 

“I said, you can't—”

 

“I heard what you said, asshole! I meant what the hell are you thinking, taking me to a place that doesn't serve grog!”

 

“I'm thinking it's about time you were exposed to a little culture, nitwit!”

 

“I don't need fucking culture, I need some grog before I lose my inhibition to punch your fucking face in!”

 

“Spoken like a true gentile,” Sanji mutters sarcastically.

 

“You wanna say that a little louder, love cook?”

 

“Yeah, I do, Marimo, SPOKEN LIK—” Fortunately, the waiter chooses this moment to appear with their drinks, thus preventing a rather nasty brawl from starting out. Sanji thanks him politely, as if he were not shouting insults at his date only moments before.

 

Zoro frowns at the small fluted glass placed before him.

 

“It's alcohol,” Sanji reassures him.

 

“It's tiny,” Zoro complains.

 

“Of course it is, aperitifs are supposed to be. The bigger drink comes with your meal.”

 

“What's the point?” Zoro continues to whine.

 

“It stimulates the appetite, just shut up and drink already.”

 

Zoro takes a tentative sip, frowns, and then proceeds to drain the rest of the glass in one gulp. Sanji restrains himself from cringing.

 

“My appetite doesn't need to stimulated,” Zoro mutters, “and I'd need a hell of a lot bigger drink than that to do so.”

 

Sanji sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose. He will not be baited into a fight in the middle of a fine dining establishment….

 

“So, um, how was your day?” Sanji attempts.

 

“Alright,” Zoro shrugs and falls silent.

 

Sanji suddenly realizes that a date with Zoro is going to take a lot more effort than a date with a girl. Usually at this point all Sanji has to do is kick back and nod while said date talks about herself for the next two…or three hours.

 

“Ummm…” contributes Sanji.

 

“….” stares Zoro.

 

“What'd you do?” asks Sanji.

 

“I made out with Nami,” Zoro deadpans.

 

“You…WHAT?!” Sanji nearly jumps out of his chair.

 

“I worked out and took a nap, what'd you expect?” Zoro rolls his eyes.

 

“Oh.” Sanji squeaks. His heart rate hasn't quite returned to normal yet.

 

“And I suppose you spent the afternoon…oh I don't know, I'm just going to go out on a limb here….cooking?”

 

“I read a book too,” Sanji adds defensively.

 

“What exciting unpredictable lives we lead.”

 

“I didn't invite you here to insult me, you know.”

 

“Just what did you invite me for, anyway?” Zoro asks, “I've been wondering.”

 

Sanji is very, very relieved when the waiter reappears and places two bowls of soup before them, thus rescuing him from needing to answer. He shoves a rather larger-than-he'd-consider-polite sized spoonful into his mouth.

 

Zoro follows suit and immediately returns to frowning.

 

“What's wrong now?” Sanji asks in exasperation.

 

“My soup's cold.” Zoro mutters.

 

Sanji has to clasp his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

 

“What's so funny?” Zoro scowls.

 

“It's cucumber soup,” Sanji chuckles, “it's supposed to be cold.”

 

“Oh.” If one looked really closely, one might be able to say that Zoro's cheeks were ever-so-slightly tinged in red.

 

Sanji's smug laughter is suddenly interrupted by a thought. “Hey,” he says, “I made this just a week or two ago, why didn't you complain about it being cold then?”

 

“I figured you made it cold on purpose just to piss me off,” Zoro's `tinge' has now upgraded to a full fledged `blush,' “besides,” he adds, somewhat quieter, “yourswasbetter.”

 

“Oh, was it now?” Sanji can't help but grin.

 

Zoro suddenly finds himself very interested in his bowl of soup. Not wanting to make eye contact with a smug Sanji has nothing to do with this, of course.

 

Another awkward silence descends.

 

“So,” says Sanji.

 

“….”

 

“The weathers been nice, eh?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Um.”

 

Zoro looks at his empty wineglass and sighs. “I'm not really all that hungry.”

 

“Me either,” Sanji agrees, “you were right, letting someone else cook wasn't such a hot idea.”

 

“Bar?” Zoro asks hopefully.

 

“Why not?”

 

* * * *

 

Some three hours, and more glasses of grog than either could count later, Sanji and Zoro stumble back to the dock where the Going Merry is…wait, make that was, docked.

 

“What the….”

 

Sanji notices a note pinned to the piling.

 

Sanji and Zoro~

 

A sudden financial opportunity surfaced which is in the Merry's best interest to pursue. We'll be back in the morning to pick you up. Have fun! ~Nami

 

“Sonnovabitch.”