Archive of Our Own

“You know what?” Sanji tells the room at large, a cigarette clamped firmly between his teeth as he tries to steady his nerves, while simultaneously waiting for his impending doom. “I’m just going to come right out and say it, this is entirely my own fault.”

His companion stirs next to him, his shoulders rising and falling to show he’d heard Sanji, even though his sole remaining eye stays focused on the image in front of them. “That tracks,” he says easily. “Most things usually are.”

Without missing a beat, or moving his own gaze away for that matter, Sanji lashes out with a kick to the side that would pulverize most people’s ribs. As expected, the oaf he’s been saddled with today barely even grunts.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Sanji hisses, still smoking furiously. “Also, for the record, what I meant was, this is my own fault for bothering to come on this fool’s errand in the first place. I knew the second I picked up the transponder snail that I was going to regret this, and yet I came anyway.”

“‘Course you did,” Zoro now says with a philosophical shrug. “It was Luffy calling. I’m here for the same reason.”

Sanji snorts. “You’re here for the free food and the chance to sleep out of the elements for a bit,” he counters. “Plus, it’s not like you had anything else to be doing. If we hadn't picked you up, you’d still be wandering from island to island without a care in the world, like a little roving cactus.”

“It’s been over ten years, Curls. Don’t you think the plant jokes are getting old?”

“I’ll lose the plant jokes when you lose your fascination with my eyebrows,” Sanji replies. “Put another record on, why don’t you?”

“Maybe I just like getting you going,” Zoro says, as if Sanji wasn’t entirely aware of that already. “Seeing as it’s one of the easiest things in the world to do, and you look hilarious when you go all red in the face from it.”

Momentarily pulling the cigarette free, Sanji exhales a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling before putting it back again.

“I didn’t have to come here,” he laments as much to himself as to anybody else. “I could have stayed in the All Blue, running my restaurant and serving customers without a care in the world. Instead, here I am, once again waiting for calamity to strike, all because you think having a sense of direction is something that happens to other people.”

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Zoro points out, a definite note of a sulk now evident in his voice. Even at thirty his penchant for getting lost is still a sore spot. “I’d have been fine on my own. I always am.”

“So you say,” Sanji replies. “Me, I often find myself waiting for the newspaper headline that says the world’s greatest swordsman has met his untimely end by wandering into the abyss and never finding his way out again. Especially since you only spend maybe a quarter of your time on the Sunny these days.”

“I’ve got stuff to do!” Zoro protests, but then neglects to elaborate any further. “Anyway. Do you think it’s about done yet?”

Sighing, Sanji returns his attention to the scene in front of them, and more specifically to the shallow bowl that’s been steadily filling with glowing light since they’d both crashed into the altar beneath it. “I take it back,” he decides after a moment’s contemplation. “This is all your fault.”

“Hey!” Zoro snaps. “You kicked me first.”

“I kicked you because you had the audacity to get snippy with me for bothering to come track down your sorry ass,” Sanji retorts. “I could have left you to wander around down here until you starved to death or got eaten by snakes or whatever. Instead, I wasted an entire afternoon tracking you down, and you couldn’t be the slightest bit grateful.”

“You still started the fight,” Zoro says mulishly. “And I had every right to finish it.”

“Except you didn’t finish it,” Sanji points out, pulling his cigarette free again and using it to gesture at where the bowl is now inches away from being full. “Instead you triggered whatever this thing is, and now we’re probably both going to die.”

“Please,” Zoro scoffs. “Not even your weak ass is going to get taken out by a stupid ball of light, let alone mine. Also, I didn't trigger jack shit. We hit the altar at the exact same time.”

“Because of your actions,” Sanji insists. “Don’t bother arguing with me on this one, Mossy. You won’t win.”

Zoro shifts an arm, presumably to grab for one of his swords. After all these years Sanji would be able to pick up on that motion anywhere. Today, however, the swordsman gets distracted mid-grasp when the light reaches the lid of the bowl and then flares bright enough to fill the whole cavern.

Momentarily blinded, Sanji hisses angrily and digs his palms into his eyes, trying to clear away the spots dancing in his vision. “Are you alright?” He demands, cognizant of the fact that Zoro’s already at a disadvantage where eye injuries are concerned. “Can you see anything?”

“I’m fine,” he hears, and when he turns towards the sound of Zoro’s voice, Sanji finds that his vision has cleared enough for him to make out the sight of the other man blinking back at him. All three of their combined eyes are watering, but that appears to be the extent of the damage.

“Do you think that was it?” Zoro pants, his own gaze locked on Sanji’s in a manner that suggests he’s likewise assessing him for injuries. “Just a weird light show and now we’re done?”

About to say he hasn’t the faintest idea, Sanji’s distracted by a thin, plaintive wail that suddenly rises from the bowl that had previously held only light. Jerking around at the sound, he takes a tentative step towards it, unsurprised when Zoro mirrors him.

Neither of them stops until they’ve reached the edge of the altar, at which point they both stare down into the bowl with matching shocked expressions on their faces. Undeterred by their plight, the baby that now rests inside scrunches up his nose and howls his displeasure as loud as he can.

Sanji turns to Zoro. Zoro turns to Sanji and then opens his mouth to speak.

“You should probably put that cigarette out,” he declares.

*****
“Damnit, he’s so squirmy! Why won’t he just hold still?”

Zoro lets out an exasperated sigh next to him, which frankly Sanji resents. “It’s because you’re holding him like he’s a sack of flour,” the swordsman insists. “He can tell you don’t know what you’re doing, and it’s freaking him out.”

“Please, who died and made you the expert in babies?” Sanji hisses, turning to glare at the other man with all his might. He desperately wishes for a cigarette to calm his nerves, but Zoro hadn’t backed down when he’d said there should be no smoking around the kid. It’d be annoying if it wasn’t a fair point. “You don’t know any more about them than I do.”

“I know more about babies than most of the crew combined,” Zoro retorts. “Except probably Usopp,” he’s quick to amend. “On account of how he’s got his own now. And maybe Chopper because of the whole doctor thing.”

“Which - thank god,” Sanji says fervently. “Once we get back to the others we’ll be able to hand him off to people who have a better idea of what they’re doing. And maybe figure out where the hell he came from.”

“You need to stop swearing in front of him,” Zoro says firmly. “You’re not supposed to do that where little ones can overhear. Also, what are you talking about? We know exactly where he came from. We were both there.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sanji replies. “He appeared from a weird bowl filled with mystical light,” he adds with as much sarcasm as he can muster in the face of his brewing panic. “But he could have technically come from anywhere.”

“Curls,” Zoro says flatly, his shoulders - completely bare due to his overcoat having been sacrificed to wrap the baby in - hunching furtively. “Have you actually looked at him yet?”

“Of course I have,” Sanji says, baffled by the question. “I’m the one holding him, aren’t I? I didn’t see any signs of injury or distress, but I still want to get him to Chopper to look him over. Especially since he won’t stop crying.”

“He’s not crying, he’s fussing,” Zoro corrects, his expression clearing slightly. “If you want him to stop, either give him to me or try to calm down some. He can tell that you’re freaking out and he’s feeding off your bad energy.”

“What kind of hippie bullshit is that?” Sanji demands, and then just as quickly decides he doesn’t care enough to hear the answer. “No, never mind. Say whatever you want, I happen to think I’m having a perfectly reasonable reaction to finding a possibly magical baby abandoned in a cave. You’ve just lost too many brain cells over the years to respond like a normal person.”

“Come on,” he adds firmly. “The town is back that way and we’ll hopefully be able to find some or all of the crew there. Worst case scenario, the locals should have a doctor of their own to examine him.”

That pulls Zoro up short. “Not happening,” the swordsman says, his good eye narrowing. “Chopper’s the only one who gets to look at him. End of story.”

“You - as always Mossball, you manage to be the most difficult person in a room even when there’s technically no room to speak of,” Sanji groans. “Fine. Whatever. We’ll make sure it’s Chopper who checks him out, but in order to do that we have to actually find him. Let’s go.”

Zoro shoots him a glare, but his expression quickly shifts to the baby in Sanji’s arms and it’s like his entire face softens. Nodding to show his agreement, he falls into step beside the blond, not only coming along willingly, but doing an impressive job of not straying far from the path as they walk.

The steady movement also seems to have an effect on the baby. His fussing doesn’t stop entirely, but does subside into a series of disgruntled huffs as opposed to a continuous wail. The change makes things easier on Sanji’s frayed nerves, allowing him to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

It’s early evening by the time they finally emerge past the tree line, with lights starting to turn on in the village houses in deference to the fact that the sun is beginning to set. Sanji doesn’t immediately spot any familiar faces, but he remembers where their crew’s lodgings are and hurries in that direction.

The baby has mostly fallen asleep during the journey, but he stirs as Sanji climbs the porch steps and is forced to come to a halt when he’s faced with a closed front door. “Moss,” he says, shifting his arms to make his predicament plain. “A little help here?”

“Yeah, one sec. I got it.” Zoro says, and Sanji’s surprised to feel a heavy hand brace itself on his shoulder as the swordsman leans around him to grab the door handle with the other. “All good.”

“Thanks,” Sanji says, slipping past him as soon as the door’s open. “Now, come on. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

The people of the island had been ecstatic when the King of the Pirates and his famous crew had first docked in their territory. Apparently determined to pull out all the stops, they’d offered up free room and board at a ‘cottage’ that was basically the size of a small manor and told the Strawhats to stay as long as they liked. Figuring that some or all of the others would be in the main communal space, Sanji heads there now.

“Oi,” he calls, wanting to announce his presence beforehand. “Anybody home? I found the lost shrubbery, but, uh, we didn’t exactly come back empty handed.”

He hears voices coming from the living room, each of them familiar in a way that helps settle the tension that’s been lodged between his shoulder blades for the past several hours, and allows himself a quiet sigh of relief as he enters the room. Once inside, he promptly finds eight sets eyes staring at him inquisitively, however, and finds himself swallowing heavily.

“So,” he says after a moment’s pause. “The mosshead and I had an interesting afternoon.”

*****
Sanji’s words obviously do nothing to sate the crew’s curiosity, and most of them are quick to swarm him when they notice the bundle in his arms.

“Is that - ?” Usopp starts, peering anxiously over the folds of the overcoat. “Oh crap, it is. You guys found an abandoned baby in the woods?”

“Uh, not quite.” Honesty compels Sanji to admit. “First of all, he was in a cave, not the woods. Second of all, we didn’t so much find him as he found us.”

Usopp’s expression suggests that this explanation does nothing to clear things up, but Robin sucks in a heavy breath and quickly straightens from where she’s been hunched over cooing at the baby.

“You were in a cave, you said?” She asks, a serious note in her voice that sends Sanji’s nerves pinging. “Was it a natural one, or did it appear to be man made? With a sort of shrine built into it?”

Honestly, the whole experience is a blur, but for Robin’s sake, Sanji tries to picture the spot they’d been in. “It might have been man made,” he allows slowly. “At least in part. There was an altar that we kind of … crashed into, and then this basin above it started filling with this weird light. Once it topped up, the light flared and all of a sudden this guy was there.”

“Fascinating,” Robin says, but with a kind of grimness that Sanji very much does not like. “I had an interesting discussion with some of the locals today that might explain what’s happened here, but I’ll need to gather more information to be sure. Would anybody mind if I stepped out to go question some people?”

Sanji shrugs as best as he’s able with the baby in his arms. “Don’t hold yourself back on my account, Dearest,” he says, while a number of the others nod their heads in agreement. “The more information we have, the better, I suspect.”

Robin flashes him a tight lipped smile and goes to gather her shoes. While she’s doing that, however, Usopp holds up a hand.

“Wait for me, would you?” The sniper says when she quirks an eyebrow at him. “Regardless of what’s happening, one thing I’m sure of is that we don’t have any supplies for a baby. It’s got to be hungry after tramping through the woods with Zoro and Sanji, so I’m going to hunt down some formula and a few other things.”

“That’s a great idea, Usopp!” Chopper chimes in. “Meanwhile, Sanji, why don’t you lay it down on the couch so I can perform an examination.”

“It’s not an it, it’s a he,” Zoro cuts in before Sanji has a chance to either agree or disagree. When all eyes turn to him, the swordsman crosses his formidable arms over his chest and huffs. “Babies aren’t its.”

“Of course not,” Chopper’s quick to amend. “My mistake. Sanji, please lay him down on the couch so I can take a look.”

“Uh sure,” Sanji says awkwardly, albeit not before giving Zoro a furtive look as he turns back to their doctor. “I can do that.”

Shuffling carefully over to the indicated couch, he sits himself down on one end first, and then gently lays the baby out on the other cushion. He gets a tiny grumble for his troubles, but the baby seems otherwise unbothered by his change in position.

“Oh my god, he’s so cute,” Nami coos, her voice carrying over the sound of Robin and Usopp making their exit. “Would you look at those big blue eyes?”

“Honestly, it’s the hair I’m more interested in,” Franky comments. Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji sees the cyborg send an arch look in Zoro’s direction. “Is there something you want to tell us, bro?”

Zoro bares his teeth. “Let’s just wait for your wife to find out some info before we jump to any conclusions,” he suggests, his words sharp enough to have Franky raising his hands in surrender.

Confused by the exchange, Sanji takes a closer look at the baby while Chopper peels back the layers of overcoat. “Huh,” he says curiously. “His hair is green.”

Now Zoro makes an exasperated noise. “You’re just noticing that now?” He says in disbelief.

“Well excuse me for being a little distracted,” Sanji snaps defensively. “I was more concerned with making sure we got him to safety than I was the specifics of what he looks like.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says flatly.

For his part, Sanji would retaliate, but the baby chooses that exact moment to flail his tiny arms, one of them straying close enough to where Sanji’s hand is resting that he can grab his pointer finger in a chubby fist. The blond feels his heart lurch as those tiny digits wrap around his own, and he sucks in a heavy breath.

“Hey, buddy,” he hears himself say, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice. “How’re you doing? Not too stressed, I hope.”

“He seems healthy enough at first glance,” Chopper says. Somehow without Sanji noticing he’s pulled his med bag into the room, and is in the process of setting up his stethoscope. Once he’s got it properly situated, he starts running it over the baby’s chest with practised ease.

“His breathing is good,” he announces after a moment, his muzzle contorting into a pleased smile. “And his heartbeat is strong. All in all I’d say he’s a pretty fit little guy.”

“Obviously,” Zoro drawls, like they all should have expected as much.

“This isn’t the time, Mosshead,” Sanji says absently, most of his attention still focused on where the baby is shaking his captured finger back and forth. “How long do we think it’s going to take Usopp and Robin to get back? I don’t want him to get cold.”

“It’s a warm night,” Nami points out, gesturing to where the common room windows have been left slightly ajar to let a breeze in. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Franky agrees, snickering slightly. “The bigger risk is that he might make a mess all over the couch and Zo-Bro’s coat while we wait for the diapers to show up.”

“That’s a good point actually,” Zoro says, his expression turning thoughtful. “We should improvise for the time being. Hang on a second.”

His piece apparently said, the swordsman turns on his heel and walks out of the room. No one says anything as his footsteps fade slightly, only to come back and forth a few times before he seemingly finds whatever it is he’s looking for.

Eventually there’s the sound of a door opening and closing, and when Zoro reappears he’s holding a hand towel that Sanji vaguely recognizes as being one of a set from the building’s linen closet. Looking as calm as you please, he proceeds to flip the towel up onto his shoulder for a second before flapping a hand at Sanji.

“Out of the way, Curls,” he commands, his hand gestures getting more imperious when all Sanji does is stare at him. “I need you to switch places with me, and do me a favour and take my coat with you while you’re at it.”

“Why?” Sanji asks suspiciously. “I’m good here.”

Zoro gives him a flat look. “Do you know how to improvise a cloth diaper out of a hand towel?” He asks, rolling his good eye when Sanji makes a face. “Didn’t think so. Move over.”

Sanji bares his teeth at the other man. “That’s terrycloth, dumbass,” he points out. “You can’t use it on him. It’ll chafe.”

“It won’t,” Zoro says firmly. “And even if it would, he’s not going to be in it long. This is just until Usopp gets back with proper supplies. Now, get your ass in gear.”

Not liking being bossed around, Sanji nevertheless pulls his hand free from the baby’s grip. Carefully unwinding Zoro’s coat, he likewise takes that with him as he goes, but makes a point to heave the heavy bundle of fabric at its owner’s head.

“Nice,” Zoro grunts, pulling the coat away and handing it off to Jinbe, the closest Strawhat to him. “You’re such a little bitch sometimes.”

“What happened to not swearing in front of the baby?” Sanji asks snidely. He shoves his hands in his pockets as Zoro claims his recently vacated seat, unreasonably annoyed all of a sudden. “You should put your money where your mouth is.”

“He doesn’t have any money,” Franky says with a laugh. “He lost it all in a drinking contest with Nami the night before we made landfall.”

“Pretty sure I’m not the only one that happened to,” Zoro says absently, most of his attention focused on gently lifting the baby’s lower half with one hand so he can slide the cloth beneath him. “I seem to recall you, Usopp, and Brook all winding up in the same boat.”

“Our stalwart first mate does speak the truth,” Brook agrees solemnly. “Ms. Navigator took me for everything I had. She stripped me right down to my bones, yohoho!”

“Stop talking,” Nami says through clenched teeth, one fist raised threateningly. “Or I’ll make you regret it.”

“No fighting,” Luffy says firmly, speaking up for the first time since Zoro and Sanji’s arrival. “Makino says babies don’t like it when people fight.”

“He’s fine, Luffy,” Zoro says from where he’s now twisting the hand towel around the baby in some kind of intricate pattern that Sanji can’t follow. “Aren’t you, little guy?” He directs towards the baby. “You’re pretty chill, aren’t you? I bet we all know where you got that from, huh?”

“We do?” Sanji asks stupidly, but any answer he might receive is waylaid by Zoro letting out a triumphant noise and lifting the baby into the air. Shockingly, the impromptu diaper remains properly in place, and the baby squeals and reaches for Zoro’s earrings when the swordsman tucks him up against his chest.

“Those aren’t for pulling on,” Zoro says, deftly unlatching grasping fingers with one hand while the other keeps the baby securely held in place. “Especially since you’ll probably try and shove them right in your mouth if I let you have them.”

“Right, yeah, he’s probably hungry,” Sanji frets, abruptly reminded of that fact. “He hasn’t eaten the whole time he’s been with us, and babies need to eat a lot, don’t they? Like, really frequently? This probably isn’t good for him.”

“Eh, he seems like he’s doing okay so far,” Zoro says, patting the baby gently on the back with a heavily scarred hand. The limb looks massive when pressed up against the tiny body, but the baby doesn’t seem to mind one bit. “Luffy’s probably your bigger problem since I’m betting he hasn’t had supper yet.”

As if on cue, their captain’s stomach rumbles.

“Sanjiii,” he whines, clutching the brim of his hat with both hands. “Zoro’s right. Nami said we had to wait for you guys to get back to start dinner and it’s been hours. Can you make food while we wait for Usopp and Robin?”

“I - ” Sanji pauses, some innate sense he didn’t know he possessed reluctant to move away from the baby. He seems settled in Zoro’s arms, though, and it’s not like any of the crew would ever let something bad happen to an infant.

“ … fine,” he capitulates. “I guess that’s as good a way as any to pass the time until the others get back.”

Luffy cheers loud enough to make the baby squeak.

*****
Luffy’s already through his third plate of stir fry and eying the dregs of Jinbe’s when footsteps belonging to several people can be heard tromping onto the front porch. Certain this must herald Usopp and Robin’s return, Sanji leaves off the dishes he’s been halfheartedly scrubbing and moves to stand next to the couch.

The baby’s dozing in Zoro’s arms when he arrives, but his brilliantly blue eyes crack open when Sanji leans a hip against the arm of the couch. Quiet coos fill the air as the baby burbles happily to himself, and Sanji finds himself overcome with the urge to lean down and tickle one bare foot.

“Oh yeah, you like that huh?” Sanji says, grinning when the baby squeals and kicks back at him. “You just want to play, don’t you?”

“Looks like he’s got good legs,” Zoro says approvingly. “No surprise there.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Sanji starts to ask, only to be cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

He looks up, expecting to find one of the crew gazing back at him, and is therefore surprised when he comes face to face with a stocky, middle aged woman who he’s never laid eyes on before. There’s a man with her, kind of scruffy and nervous looking, who Sanji also doesn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” He asks, flicking his eyes over to where Robin has just entered the room, quick on the strange pair’s heels. “I’m assuming you’re here about the baby, but I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

The woman smiles, faint wrinkles around her eyes causing them to crinkle at the corners. “My name is Sunna,” she says brightly. “This is Ezra, and you two,” she adds with a beaming glance at the baby, “must be the two who have been blessed.”

“ … come again?” Sanji asks weakly. Next to him, Zoro makes a noise that’s half curiosity, half annoyance. “Madam, I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at, but I don’t believe my crewmate and I have been ‘blessed’ by anything. We just happened to be in the right place at the right time to stumble over the little one here.”

Sunna gives him a look that is somehow matronly yet slightly condescending. “Nonesense,” she tuts. “The shrine doesn’t make mistakes, and it certainly wouldn’t see the two of you accidentally acquire someone else’s baby. He’s yours.”

“I repeat, come again?” Sanji demands, considerably sharper this time. His words send the baby fussing, and Zoro gives him a dirty look before turning to try and shush the unhappy cries.

“Nice job, Curls,” he mutters irritably. “You’ve gone and upset him.”

“Well I obviously didn’t mean to,” Sanji hisses, a wave of guilt washing over him while the baby whimpers. “On the other hand, I think I can be forgiven for having a strong reaction to someone spouting utter nonsense in my direction.”

“No offence meant, of course, Ma’am,” he’s quick to assure Sunna. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for everything that’s happened here.”

“There is,” Sunna says patiently. “You and your lover activated the fertility shrine, and it gifted you with its favor. The baby is a result of your union.”

Complete and utter silence descends upon the room, with even the baby falling silent. Several seconds tick by as Sanji tries to process the sheer number of things wrong with Sunna’s statement, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as no sound comes out.

Eventually the silence is broken by Usopp. Having been the last to enter the room after Robin, the sniper has a number of bags dangling from his arms and now clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“I’m just going to - ” He lifts his arms in a way meant to draw attention to his parcels. “Yeah. I got enough stuff to tide us over for the immediate future, so I’m just going to go make him up a bottle. He’s got to be starving by now.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Robin decides when no one else says anything. “In the meantime, I think it would be helpful if our guests could provide more of a background on the shrine and its inner workings. I expect more context is going to be necessary here.”

“Probably couldn’t hurt,” Zoro mutters, adjusting his hold on the baby. “Not if you don’t want the cook stroking out and dying, anyway.”

Twisting around sharply enough that he’s surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash, Sanji stares at the other man in disbelief. “I’m sorry?!” He yelps, pointing one finger accusingly in Sunna’s direction. “The lady just implied that you and I have somehow reproduced, Marimo! Never mind her other ridiculous insinuations. Why aren’t you at least reacting to that?”

“Because I’m not blind,” Zoro retorts, his posture suggesting that he’d like to snap but can’t because of the baby in his arms. “He appeared after we triggered that thing. He has my chin and my hair. Your nose and your eyes. It wasn’t too hard to put two and two together under the circumstances.”

Sanji sputters. “What are you - ? No! That is - the very idea! That is insane. You’re seeing things.”

Raising her hands in a placating gesture, Sunna draws all eyes back to her, and effectively stops the brewing argument in its tracks. “I think Ms. Nico Robin had the right idea when she suggested that we provide more information about the shrine. Truth be told, normally we warn outsiders about it when they arrive. You’re the first pair to ever stumble over it unexpectedly.”

“Yeah, that tracks with these two,” Franky says, rubbing a hand thoughtfully over his chin. “You can always trust them to cause maximum chaos wherever they go.”

“Please, like you’re any better,” Zoro scoffs. “Or any of us for that matter. Bringing chaos is the Strawhat way.”

“While I can’t exactly disagree with that specific point,” Sanji says, “this is not a particular brand of chaos we’ve ever encountered.”

Turning back to Sunna, he spreads his hands beseechingly. “Now,” he says, doing his best to keep a lid on his emotions, “tell us what you’re talking about.”

*****
Sunna settles herself down on a chair that Jinbe brings in from another room. The fishman offers one to Ezra as well, but the other man waves him off, apparently content to settle himself behind Sunna, standing not far from her left shoulder. Sanji wonders briefly what the connection is between the two, and then just as quickly decides he doesn’t care.

“Madam,” he says, once Sunna’s been sitting for a couple of minutes but still hasn’t said anything. “If you could please proceed, I’m sure we’d all be ever so grateful to hear what you have to say.”

His words earn him a smile that’s downright impish. “Well your friends have already heard the story,” she says, while Sanji very seriously considers ripping his own hair out. “Robin clearly had already heard rumors before she tracked us down this evening, and we filled them both in on our walk over here.”

“How delightful,” Sanji says, his voice brittle enough that everyone in the room can hear the cracking. “However, since the rest of us haven’t heard the tale, perhaps you could find it within you to repeat the story. If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Sunna replies brightly. “As I said, we do our best to warn anyone who visits our island, but your crew must have started to explore before you were all brought up to speed.”

“To be fair,” Sanji says delicately, “exploring isn’t exactly what we were doing. The itinerant cactus here was loose in the wild, and I drew the short straw in tracking him down. We never meant to wind up where we did.”

“Then that’s even more impressive,” Sunna decides. “Unless the shrine was calling out to you and you didn’t realize.”

“It wasn’t,” Zoro says flatly. “Curls tracked me down near the outside of the cave and he was all pissy so we wound up getting into it with each other. We literally fell over the thing while we were fighting.”

For the first time Sunna looks something other than serene. “I … see,” she says with an awkward glance at Ezra, who shrugs. Apparently he’s a man of few words. “That’s definitely a rather, um, unusual way to find the place, I have to admit.”

“I think how they found the place is less important than the fact that they did,” Nami announces. “What is this so-called shrine, and how does it work?”

“As I said, it’s a fertility shrine,” Sunna says primly. “It was built by a devil fruit user who used to live on the island and imbued it with the essence of her power.”

“Imbued how?” Nami demands, fast enough that Sanji doesn’t have to.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Sunna replies. “No one here does. What we do know is that when couples approach the shrine together it will assess them to determine if it’s going to provide them with a child. If it does, it pulls from both of them and creates the child in the basin attached to it.”

“Pulls from both of them?” Chopper echoes worriedly. “Do you mean it drains their life force?”

“No, nothing like that,” Sunna laughs while Ezra makes a scoffing sound behind her. “As best as our local doctors can tell it scans their DNA and mixes the two sets together to create the child. That’s why the baby has attributes that belong to both of you, he’s as much your combined offspring as one conceived the natural way would be.”

“We’re both men,” Sanji says, his voice desert dry. “It is physically impossible for us to make a child together.”

“Yes,” Sunna says brightly. “That’s one reason the shrine is popular with same-sex couples especially. It doesn’t work for couples who can make a baby on their own, only for those who can’t.”

“Well I’m sure that’s wonderful for couples who want to have a baby and can’t, but that’s not us!” Sanji shrills, pointing frantically back and forth between himself and Zoro. “We’re not a couple!”

“You’re not?” Speaking for the first time, Ezra’s voice is soft and confused sounding, as is the look he and Sunna share. “Are you sure?”

“Are we - ?” Sanji starts, only to freeze when Zoro clamps a heavy hand around his leg.

“Stop yelling,” the swordsman says quietly but firmly. “You’re freaking the baby out. To answer your question, though,” he says, turning back to their visitors. “No. Blondie and I aren’t a couple, and we never have been.”

“Honestly, as if - ” Sanji starts again, and Zoro’s grip tightens. “Would you stop that? Let me go!”

“Not until you calm down,” Zoro says through gritted teeth. “How he ended up here isn’t the baby’s fault, so stop taking it out on him.”

His words, spoken in that bluntly accurate way that he’s always had, immediately steal the wind from Sanji’s sails. Taking a fortifying breath and letting it out slowly, he plucks the swordsman’s hand from his leg but doesn’t try to argue with him.

“You’re right,” he says, shooting an apologetic look at the baby and feeling his heart stutter when those blue eyes stare solemnly back at him. “Never mind everything else, you’re right about that much. He didn’t do anything to cause this, so I guess we’re just going to have to figure out what to do with him.”

“I mean - ” Sanji pauses as a horrifying thought occurs to him. “He is here for good, isn’t he?” He demands, and next to him his words make Zoro sit up straighter. “The shrine won’t, I don’t know, like, delete him because he wasn’t intentional will it?”

“No, of course not,” Sunna rushes to assure him. “He’s as real and permanent as any child born through the usual means.”

“Okay, good.” Sanji breathes a sigh of relief at the confirmation. Regardless of the shock and umpteen adjustments he’s going to have to make to his life in the very near future, one thing he’s sure of is that he can’t have anything bad happen to this child. “That’s something at least.”

“More than.” Zoro growls, that same protective lilt evident in his voice that’s always there when he’s talking about the crew. “Is there anything else you can tell us about what to expect?”

Sunna flashes another one of those coy smiles. “No more than I could any parent of a newborn,” she says. “He’ll grow at the same rate, meet the same milestones, that kind of thing. He’s a baby, plain and simple.”

“All babies progress differently,” Chopper mutters, “but I understand what you’re getting at. Thank you for coming to speak with us.”

“Especially you, Ezra,” Brook titters, sounding inordinately pleased by his own dumb joke. “You’re quite the chatterbox.”

Ezra makes a face that suggests he’d like to throttle the skeleton, but is equally aware that assaulting a member of the Pirate King’s crew likely isn’t a good idea. “My pleasure,” he says tersely. “Have a good evening.”

“Yes, and let us know if you need anything for the little one,” Sunna says as she stands. “I believe your friend the sniper gathered most of the basic necessities, but much of what he’s brought will only last for so long.”

“We might just take you up on that,” Nami says. “But for now, let me walk you out.”

The trio pass by Usopp as they make their way out of the room, and the longnosed man ignores them in favor of holding up a bottle triumphantly. “Supper is served,” he says, wiggling it back and forth. “Who wants to do the honours?”

“I’ve already got him so give it here,” Zoro insists, cradling the baby close to his chest with one hand and reaching for the bottle with the other. “Did you remember to check the temperature first?”

Usopp pulls up short in affront. “No,” he says irritably, his hands landing on his hips. “I, the only person on this crew with actual parenting experience, completely forgot the most basic tenet of preparing a baby’s bottle. Just what do you take me for?”

“An idiot,” Zoro replies. “Now give me the stupid bottle.”

“Sheesh, tough crowd,” Usopp mutters, passing it over. “It’s been ten years, man. When are you going to learn how to say thank you?”

“It’s been ten years,” Zoro parrots as he takes the bottle. “When are you going to stop waiting?”

“And you’re a dad now,” Usopp says, shaking his head sadly. “I fear for the next generation.”

“Oh, bro, same here,” Franky cackles suddenly. “Can you believe it? A kid that’s half Zoro and half Sanji. He’s gonna grow up to be a terror.”

“Yeah, but he’s going to be so cool too,” Luffy enthuses, turning to grin brilliantly at the baby. “Do you guys think he’s going to like swords more, or kicking? Maybe he’ll use both and just whup ass wherever he goes!”

“Are you - he’s like six hours old!” Sanji snaps, appalled. “He’s not fighting anyone or anything, and we have far more important things to worry about than that right now. He doesn’t even have a name for crying out loud.”

“Well that sounds like something you and Zoro should discuss between the two of you,” Nami says as he re-enters the room. “And the same goes for whatever your plans for him are. He’s yours, so you guys have to be the ones to figure that stuff out. I mean, assuming you’re keeping him that is. If not, we should probably start looking for the nearest orphanage.”

“No orphanages,” Sanji says, harshly enough that she recoils slightly. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that.”

Nobody says anything for a moment, and the only sound in the room is that of the baby happily guzzling down his meal. His little feet kick back and forth as Zoro holds the bottle in place for him, and Sanji feels a giant swell of emotion in his chest as he watches them.

“No orphanages,” he says again, “but Nami’s right, Mossball, we need a plan here. As soon as you’re done feeding him, you and I need to talk.”

Zoro blinks at him. “Why are you saying that like you’re going to skin me and hide the body?”

“If only that were an option,” Sanji laments.

*****
Usopp’s foraging hadn’t miraculously turned up a crib, so they have to improvise. A few of the rooms in the cottage come with double beds, so the Strawhats rearrange the sleeping assignments so that Zoro and Sanji can have one until they’re back on the Sunny.

“But what if one of us rolls on him in the middle of the night,” Sanji frets, eyeing the bed askance. “Nevermind having to share with you, either one of us could crush him if we move wrong.”

“So don’t move wrong,” Zoro suggests. “And while you’re at it, get those blankets out of the way so I can lay him down.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Sanji says automatically, but he’s quick to follow the request regardless. Zoro’s hands are full with the baby, and not even he can multitask under those circumstances.

Once the covers have been pulled back far enough to give him room, Zoro lays the baby down on his back. Having been fed, burped, and changed into an actual diaper and sleeper, the little guy is already conked out and doesn’t so much as stir when he’s transferred from one position to the other.

“He must get that from you,” Sanji says, speaking with all the authority of someone who wakes when even the slightest breeze reaches him. “You always did sleep like a rock.”

“He might be down now, but he won’t stay that way,” Zoro says authoritatively. “He’ll be up again in a few hours for another feeding or a change or both. Newborns don’t sleep through the night.”

“I know that, asshole,” Sanji says, even though what he actually knows about babies may as well fit on the head of a pin. “I’m surprised you do, though. Where were you ever around little kids?”

Zoro shrugs. “The dojo I lived at doubled as an orphanage and the older kids were made to help out with the younger. It’s been a while, but I’ve still got plenty of experience with them.”

“And are you planning to stick around and put that experience to good use?” Sanji asks, deciding to rip the bandaid off rather than try beating around the bush. “Because we should probably get that out of the way before anything else.”

Having been half hunched over the bed after putting the baby down, Zoro now straightens to his full height. His expression is largely unreadable, but there’s a sort of set to his jaw that Sanji doesn’t like.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, the words clipped. “I don’t shirk my responsibilities. I’m going wherever he does.”

Sanji lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Okay then,” he says, feeling suddenly a little weak in the knees. “Glad we got that sorted.”

“There wasn’t anything to sort,” Zoro grumbles, still sounding annoyed. “You know me better than that.”

“ … yeah, I guess I do,” Sanji admits quietly. In hindsight, he doesn’t know why he’d ever worried about that specific issue. Of course Zoro’s going to step up to the plate in this instance, of course he is. The man’s never backed down from a challenge in his life.

“If - if you’re going to be involved though,” he says slowly. “Babies - I may not know much, but I do know they need stability. All that wandering you’ve been doing since we found the One Piece - it won’t work for him. He’s going to need something more permanent.”

“You don’t say?” Zoro drawls, each word rife with sarcasm. “Well damn. If only one of us had a thriving, established business that’s run with the help of other family members in a location that’s basically become neutral territory for every group on the Grand Line. Jeez, it sure would be nice if someone here had access to a place like that.”

“You don’t need to be an ass about it,” Sanji bristles. “I was just trying to point out that, of the two of us, I’m the one whose living arrangements are better suited to meet his needs. So. I think we should take him back to the Baratie.”

“No shit,” Zoro says. “I do too.”

“Good,” Sanji says, honestly surprised by how easy that had been. “Because the only other option I can see would be staying on the Sunny, but too many attacks happen out on open waters. Something bad could go down.”

“Again, I’m not disagreeing with you,” Zoro assures him. “I figured it’d be the Baratie as soon as it was clear that he’d be sticking around. It just makes sense.”

“Marimo, none of this makes sense,” Sanji sighs, running a tired hand through his hair. “It’s absolute lunacy, is what it is. I don’t care what the townspeople here think, you and I are likely going to be the two worst caretakers ever inflicted on a child.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Zoro says, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you did, you’d be making noise about finding someone else to take him.”

“Nobody else is taking him,” Sanji says instantly, baring his teeth to show how serious he is. “I may not have ever expected this, I may still be reeling from today’s events and the many, many consequences and lifestyle changes that are going to come from it, but I do know that much. He is staying with family.”

“Also,” he adds grimly, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes when Zoro raises his hands in mock surrender, “we need to keep this quiet. It was bad enough when Usopp’s twins were born, but you and I have more enemies left out there than he does. Outsiders can’t know about him.”

“That’s impractical and you know it,” Zoro counters. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t keep the news on the down low. In fact, I’m right there with you. Pretending that it won’t get out is just an exercise in futility though. We’re too famous for that. Garp couldn’t hide Ace forever, and it’s going to be the same here.”

“No, it won’t be,” Sanji retorts. “Maybe you’re right,” he allows, “maybe we can’t hide him indefinitely, but we can sure as hell kill anything that threatens him. Whoever or whatever that might be.”

Zoro grins at this, the old feral one that’s full of bloodlust. “That,” he says with a snap of his teeth, “goes without saying.”

*****
Sanji feels like he’s only just fallen asleep when an unhappy wail wakes him up again. Momentarily flailing in confusion, his hand brushes over the baby where he’s lying bracketed between him and Zoro, and he rockets back to consciousness.

“What’s the matter?” He demands when he hears Zoro stirring on the other side of the bed. “What’s wrong with him?”

Apparently far less concerned than Sanji, Zoro lets out a heavy yawn. “He’s probably hungry,” he mumbles before the yawn is even finished. “And - yeah, he’s wet too. He needs to be changed.”

Sanji freezes like a deer in the headlights and it must show because Zoro starts snickering at him. “You go get him a bottle ready,” he suggests. “I’ll get him changed in the meantime.”

“If you’re sure,” Sanji says slowly. “I’m sure I can figure out how to change a diaper though.”

“You’re damn right you can, and you will,” Zoro tells him. “I’m not spending the next however many years being the only one who deals with this guy’s piss and shit. But it can wait for now and until then we may as well divide and conquer. So, hurry up and get your ass in gear.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Sanji hisses, spurred on by the baby’s cries getting more intense. “Sheesh, you two are a pair of demanding assholes.”

“Now, Curls.”

Hoping that the baby’s eyesight isn’t yet good enough to pick up on it, Sanji flips him off as he climbs out of bed. Zoro retaliates by sticking his tongue out at him, and it’s only the crying baby between them that keeps things from degenerating from there.

“Jackass,” Sanji mutters as he steps out into the hallway and pads towards the kitchen. “Ten years of knowing each other and he still wouldn’t know decent manners if they spit in his face. I can’t believe I’m stuck with him forever now.”

An admonishing voice pipes up in the back of his head, trying to reprimand him for a perceived falsehood, and Sanji angrily tells it to shut up. This is no time for him to be arguing with himself, not when there’s someone who needs feeding.

Most of the baby supplies have been left piled on one counter, and it’s easy to spot what he needs. Luckily he’d had the foresight to have Usopp walk him through bottle preparation before they’d all turned in, so he’s at least confident in his ability to handle that much.

Actually making the bottle feels like it takes forever, especially since he can still faintly hear the baby’s fussing in the distance. He glares at the pot on the stove, willing the bottle inside it to heat faster, and grabs it as soon as it’s ready.

It’s warm to the touch, possibly too warm, and he makes a face as he trots back down the hall. “I think it still needs a few minutes to cool,” he says as he ducks back into the bedroom. “How’s he doing?”

“I’m pretty sure he thinks he’s dying, but that’s normal,” Zoro says from where he’s rocking the baby back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. “He’s clean at least, but he’s not going to be happy until his stomach’s full.”

“Fair enough,” Sanji says, wondering if the bottle will cool faster if he blows on it. “It’s coming, but it’s still too hot for him.”

“Take your time,” Zoro says. “It’s better for him to wait a little longer than to get burned.”

Since that goes without saying, Sanji doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he waits with increasing annoyance for the bottle to cool, eventually testing a tiny splash on his wrist like Usopp had suggested earlier.

“I think it’s good,” he says when the liquid comes out at room temperature. “Here. Take it.”

Rather than grab for the bottle, Zoro gives him a thoughtful look, heedless of the baby fussing in his arms. “I gave him the last one,” he says after a moment. “Do you want to try this time?”

Caught off guard, Sanji pauses, but nevertheless thinks it over. “Uh, sure,” he decides, figuring he’s going to be up anyway so there’s no reason to say no. “Just give me a second to get situated.”

Zoro snorts, but otherwise doesn’t comment. Rather, he watches as Sanji settles into the bed, propped up against a couple of pillows, and briefly sets the bottle on a nightstand before reaching for the baby. “Give him here.”

The baby’s cries get even sharper as he’s handed over, and Sanji hushes him as he scrambles one handed for the bottle again. “It’s coming. I promise, it’s coming,” he tells their tiny charge as his fingers close around the container. “No one’s going to keep it from you, don’t worry.”

The baby latches onto the bottle as soon as it’s within range, the sounds of his greedy suckling filling the room. Meanwhile, Sanji breathes a sigh of relief at the confirmation that he’s gotten what he wanted.

“He’s got a hell of an appetite on him,” he comments, watching as the amount of formula in the bottle steadily decreases. “He’s just guzzling it down. He must get that from you.”

“Ha ha,” Zoro says sarcastically, but rather than feigning actual offence, he goes to lay down on the bed. Rolling onto his side, he props himself up on one elbow to calmly watch the proceedings. “He’ll feel better now.”

“Mhm,” Sanji replies, most of his attention snared by the tiny form curled into his arms. The baby’s so small and delicate looking, Sanji’s hit with a swell of protectiveness as it occurs to him just how many things are out there that could hurt this child.

That’s not going to happen, he resolves. He’ll keep him safe, and somehow, some way, he’ll make sure that he knows he’s loved too. This child is not going to grow up like him, traumatized and questioning if he deserves even an ounce of self worth. Here and now, Sanji’s determined to do better.

“We should call him Sora.”

Taken aback by the abrupt topic change, Sanji drags his gaze away from the baby and flicks it over to Zoro. A lone grey eye stares steadily back at him, and Sanji runs over the words he’s just heard in his head again.

“What did you just say?” He asks weakly, and Zoro doesn’t so much as blink.

“We should call him Sora,” he repeats, his voice steady. “He needs a name, and that’s a good one.”

“It’s - it’s a woman’s name”, Sanji starts, but Zoro simply rolls his eye.

“Lots of names are unisex,” he says with a dismissive wave of his free hand. “There’s no reason that one can’t be too.”

“I mean, no, you’re right,” Sanji admits. “I just - I’ve been running over possible options in my head, and that one never occurred to me.”

“Yeah, because you’re an idiot,” Zoro says, the edges of his mouth curving upwards in a faint smirk. “Luckily, I’m here to provide the brains for our little team.”

Sanji can’t help it, he scoffs. “If you’re the brains then all three of us are doomed,” he deadpans. “But, as for your actual suggestion … I don’t hate it.”

Far from it in fact. As he glances down at the baby, he finds that clear blue gaze staring up at him, and is reminded of just who it was the little guy had inherited those eyes from.

“She’d have loved it,” he says, refusing to acknowledge the catch in his voice. Suddenly overcome, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of the baby’s head, laughing when he gets a disgruntled huff for his troubles because he accidentally jostles the bottle. “It’s perfect.”

“He’s going to have to be a Roronoa, though,” he adds as the thought occurs to him. “It’s one thing for his name to reflect the one bright spot Germa had, but like hell is he going to be a Vinsmoke.”

Zoro gives him a look. “That goes without saying.” He declares, and unprompted, Sora kicks a tiny foot in the air in a move Sanji can only feel is triumphant.

“Would you look at that?” He laughs. “I think he likes it.”

*****
“What are you doing? What are you doing? Are you having fun distracting Papa while he’s trying to make Auntie Nami a snack? I think you are!”

Hunched over the swing that Franky had constructed almost as soon as they’d left the island with the shrine, Sanji runs his fingers over Sora’s belly, tickling him while the baby squeals and flails every available limb. At barely three weeks old there’s nothing coordinated about his motions, but his smile is more than enough to show that he’s enjoying himself.

“Oh you’re such a tyrant,” Sanji coos, not letting up in his ministrations. “How am I supposed to get anything done with you around? Nami’s going to have to prepare her own meal at this point, and that just won’t do.”

“It’s alright, Sanji,” Nami laughs from her spot at the galley’s counter. “You know I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t, Dearest,” Sanji says, all without looking away from the baby. “But no child of mine is going to grow up to ignore the wants and needs of a lady, so I’m afraid I’m just going to have to teach him some manners. Isn’t that right, Sora? We’re going to make sure you grow up to be a perfect gentleman, yes we are.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Nami says, her eyes bright when Sanji finally looks up at her. “He’s part you and part Zoro, remember? At best, the two might cancel each other out and you’ll wind up with someone completely normal if you’re lucky.”

“Pfft,” Sanji says. “I’m not sure why you’re implying that there’s anything ordinary about the most perfect, incredible, and talented baby that’s ever lived, Darling, but it’s really rather rude of you. Don’t listen to her, Sora,” he adds, turning back to the baby. “She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

Laughing at his antics, Nami pushes away from the counter where she’s been resting her elbows on it, and holds out her arms expectantly. “Alright, you’ve played with him long enough, and I don’t care what you say, you’ll stress yourself out if dinner’s late. Hand him over.”

Even though the angle is such that Sora likely can’t see her, he seems to have some sixth sense that another person wants to lavish him with attention. Raising both arms towards the ceiling, he lets out a demanding shriek, his intention plain.

“Subtle,” Sanji tells him, already shifting to pick him up. “You’re the most demanding creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, it must be said.”

“He’s a baby,” Nami says as she accepts Sora’s wriggling form. She cuddles him close to her chest, where he immediately settles and starts cooing happily to himself. “Being demanding is a survival trait since they’re completely reliant on other people.”

“I’m pretty sure the latent cuteness is actually the survival trait,” Sanji notes as he steps back into the kitchen portion of the galley. “Him already having everyone on the ship wrapped around his little finger seems to be how he’s getting by.”

“Aw, well he’s just so precious,” Nami croons, bouncing Sora gently in her arms. “Who would have thought you and Zoro would somehow create the most adorable baby known to man?”

“Don’t let Usopp hear you say that,” Sanji snickers. “But yes, it does boggle the mind.”

“Speaking of Zoro,” Nami says, her tone shifting in a way that sets warning bells ringing in Sanji’s ears. “How’s that going?”

Sanji turns back to the stove. “Oh, you know,” he says breezily, his words directed at his favorite burner. “It’s going. We haven’t accidentally killed Sora or intentionally killed each other yet, so I’m counting that as a win.”

“Mmhmm,” Nami says, drawing the sound out in a way that Sanji suspects spells doom for him. “But you’re really going to go through with this plan, then? The two of you are going to head back to the All Blue and raise him together?”

“I mean, I know it’s not ideal,” Sanji says awkwardly. “Let me assure you, I really do feel bad for abandoning the crew in the middle of this treasure hunt, especially after it took so much convincing on your part to get me to leave the restaurant in the first place, but the Baratie is just a safer place to raise a baby than the Sunny. Don’t you agree?”

“You know I do,” Nami says airily, and Sanji almost thinks he’s gotten away with it before she adds, “Just like you know that I know you’re being deliberately obtuse. I wasn’t questioning your plan to raise Sora on the Baratie. I was questioning your plan on who to do it with.”

“He’s Sora’s other parent,” Sanji says stiffly, now point blank refusing to turn around. “I’ve got no right to keep them from each other, and I’d never try.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Nami says, apparently willing to give him that much. “But that wasn’t what I was getting at either.”

“No?” Sanji asks, giving it one last shot at playing dumb. “Well then I haven’t the faintest idea of what you could be getting at.”

“I’m talking about you being in love with Zoro,” she says flatly, not even flinching when he nearly scalds himself on one of the pots in front of him. “As you very well know.”

“Oh that,” Sanji wheezes, rocking like he’s just taken a hit from one of the Four Emperors or another heavy hitter of yore. “I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”

“Sanji. Turn around please.”

It’s been ten years. He should be able to resist her commands by now, but alas, that day is still not upon him. Groaning theatrically, he checks to make sure his burners are good and then does as he’s told.

He's greeted by the sight of Nami staring back at him from over the top of Sora’s head. Her chin is resting on his downy soft curls, although he doesn’t seem to mind based on the way he’s burbling happily away. Nami’s expression is just this side of accusatory, however, and Sanji finds himself biting an urge to flinch.

“You need to tell him.” Nami’s voice is quiet when she speaks, but no less firm for it. “You should have told him years ago, but now you absolutely have to. You can’t go into this thing under false pretenses. It’s not fair to any of you.”

“But I’m not,” Sanji protests, frankly a little indignantly. “I’ve never told the Mossball that I’m not in love with him, so there are no false pretenses to be found.”

Nami makes a face, and even Sora pauses in a studious examination of his own feet to give him a skeptical look. Sanji’s being judged on multiple fronts here. Unjustly so, in his opinion.

“You’re splitting hairs,” Nami says after he fails to take a moment of silence to recant his previous position. “Yeah, maybe you’re not outright lying to Zoro, but you’re definitely not being honest either.”

“Am too,” Sanji says mulishly. “He’s never come out and asked me if I was in love with him, and, unless he does and then I lie about it, honesty abounds.”

“Uh huh.” Nami’s tone is more than enough to tell she doesn’t believe him, but Sanji maintains that isn’t his fault. He’s right and he knows it.

“It’s better this way,” he finally says after the silence has dragged on for too long. “Any feelings I may or may not have clearly aren’t reciprocated, so telling him now would just make things awkward. Awkward at a time when we need to get along. For Sora’s sake.”

Nami rolls her eyes. “You are both perfectly capable of putting aside petty squabbles for the sake of important things,” she says archly. “You always have been, and if there’s anything the last three weeks have shown it’s that neither of you has ever encountered anything more important than Sora. There’s no way you’d let him get caught in any crossfire between you.”

“I appreciate your faith in us, my angel,” Sanji tells her with a brittle smile. “But I’m afraid I don’t necessarily share it. Zoro’s had years to express any potential feelings, and he’s not exactly the type to hold big emotions in close. If he felt anything, he’d have said it by now.”

“Except you’ll never know that for certain unless you say something,” Nami argues, but Sanji just shakes his head.

“I’ve made up my mind,” he announces to the room at large. “I’ve considered all my options and have decided that this is the best approach to the matter. I will therefore be taking no more criticisms at this juncture.”

“Bah!” Sora exclaims, waving a tiny fist in the air.

“Exactly,” Sanji says, and goes back to his work.

*****
The thing is, Sanji had never intended to fall in love with Zoro. Doing so had, in fact, been a complete accident, and over the years it’s created far more problems for him than it has anything else.

There had always been something between them, all the way back to Little Garden, if not Arlong Park. As a scrawny, angry teenager powered by spite and a nicotine addiction, Sanji had initially assumed that something was bitter rivalry, but had shifted to calling it friendship by the time Thriller Bark had happened.

Then the entire crew had been separated for two years, and Sanji had spent his time in Kamabakka learning some very important things about himself. Things other than how to cook and fight even better than he already could.

Those things had reared their ugly head the moment he’d landed back on Sabaody and come face to face with a new and improved Zoro. The nosebleeds that had nearly taken him out had had as much to do with a certain impressive musculature as they had Nami and Robin’s beauty.

Having said that, Sanji had still been living solidly in the land of denial where some things were concerned. He may have accepted that he had something of an inkling towards men under the right circumstances, but he was adamant that sword obsessed shrubbery didn’t do it for him.

He’d told himself that any attraction he might have felt towards Zoro was purely physical, and that it was a bad idea to try and start something with a crew member just to scratch an itch. No, he was going to leave well enough alone, and someday his appropriate prince or princess would come along.

And he’d kept right on telling himself that through adventure after adventure. Fishman Island, Punk Hazard, and Dressrosa. Zou and Whole Cake. Wano, Egghead, and Elbaf. The list went on. It didn’t matter where they traveled to, Sanji consistently maintained that he was imagining things, and there would never be anything substantial between him and Zoro.

Then Luffy had been crowned as the Pirate King, they’d all achieved their dreams, and the illusion had shattered. Sanji had found himself standing on the deck of the Sunny, gazing out at the vista that was the All Blue, and realized that there was still one thing missing.

Reality had hit him like a brick to the head, but he’d told himself he had no choice but to man up and say something. He’d already had a call in to have the Baratie sailed out to the All Blue so they could set up shop, and if he was making one major life change he may as well make another.

He’d gone searching for Zoro and found him near the Sunny’s figurehead with Luffy. The two had been locked in what looked to be an intense discussion, but hadn’t seemed to mind Sanji’s arrival.

For his part, Sanji had opened his mouth to tell Zoro he needed to speak to him somewhere private, only for the big idiot to beat him to the punch. He’d announced that he too would be leaving the Sunny (albeit not the crew, never the crew), only not to stay in one place. He felt he needed to travel to give potential challengers a shot at his World’s Greatest title, and there was nothing to stop him now that all their goals were met.

Sanji had stared at him, flabbergasted by his own astonishingly poor timing, but what could he do? He’d waited too long to come to his senses and missed his shot. This was a sign that he needed to take what he could get and not be greedy. He had no right to try and tie Zoro down when the swordsman didn’t want to be, especially when he’d given no indication that he felt the same way.

So Sanji had let him go, and that was that.

Until now, of course.

*****
“Darling, you must calm down,” Sanji tells a squirming Sora where he’s furiously trying to wriggle right out of his arms. “It’s imperative that you make a good first impression here, and that’s not going to happen if you keep acting like a complete orangutan. Settle, please.”

“The weirder you act, the more freaked out he’s going to get,” Zoro says from his spot not far from Sanji’s shoulder. “He can tell you’re about to lose it, and it’s stressing him out.”

“Kindly spare me your pearls of wisdom,” Sanji mutters. “I know what the problem is, but I can’t exactly turn off my own reactions, now can I?”

“Maybe not, but you could have called ahead and warned them like I suggested,” Zoro retorts. “Five bucks says you wouldn’t be nearly as worried right now if you had.”

“I’m not worried,” Sanji hisses. “They’re going to love him and everything's going to be fine. Also you don’t even have five bucks to your name, so mind your business.”

Zoro huffs in annoyance but nevertheless lapses into silence. For his part, Sanji keeps his attention focused on the sight in front of them, and the familiar ship that’s swimming into view.

“The old man’s going to kill me,” he moans, in direct contrast to his earlier comments. “Or worse, I’m going to accidentally kill him when the shock gives him a heart attack. He’s going to wind up with a tombstone that reads ‘death by unanticipated grandchild’.”

“He is not,” Zoro grunts. “Like you said, he’s gonna love him. Everybody does.”

So far, that has indeed very much been the case. In the month it’s taken them to sail back to the All Blue, the crew have adapted to having Sora in their midst like he’s always been there. There’s been no shortage of people on hand to help out with him, and Sanji knows his inevitable departure is being met with mixed feelings. The crew adore the baby, but also understand that this is the safer option.

“It’s going to be a huge change,” Sanji murmurs, hefting Sora a little higher so that he can properly cuddle into his neck. “What if he has trouble adjusting to life on a different ship?”

“He might for the first little bit,” Zoro says with an unconcerned shrug. “But once he gets used to his new routine he’ll be fine.”

“You always sound so confident when you say things like that,” Sanji tells him, giving the other man a skeptical look. “Me, I think you’re flying by the seat of your pants just like I am.”

“Maybe,” Zoro replies with an easy grin that makes Sanji scowl. “Or maybe I’m just better than you in every way. You’ll never know and I’ll never tell.”

Sanji’s scowl deepens. “I’m holding a child,” he says loftily. “And that is the only reason you’re not about to board the Baratie via my foot.”

Zoro snickers, seemingly unconcerned, and focuses his attention back on the ship looming ahead. “I think it’s even bigger than it was the last time I was here,” he says with a low whistle. “What are you trying to do, build your own floating city?”

Prying Sora’s fingers away from his shirt collar where the baby has randomly decided to try strangling him, Sanji needs a moment before he can answer. “Business is booming,” he says finally. “The more customers we have, the more dining, storage, and kitchen space we need. Also more staff, and more staff means more living quarters. Basically, one thing leads to another and this is the result.”

“It looks like a maze,” Zoro decides, “or maybe some kind of ant colony,” he adds, still observing the hub of activity that is the Baratie. “How the fuck are we supposed to baby proof this entire thing?”

“We start by letting Franky loose on it,” Sanji reminds him. “He and I have already been discussing some key reno plans, and I’m pretty sure he’s more excited than anything else.”

“Oh your old man’s going to love that,” Zoro huffs. “He better not blame me for this.”

“I don’t see why he would,” Sanji blinks. “You’re very strange.”

“Whatever,” Zoro replies. “It looks like Jinbe’s about to start pulling us into one of the docking bays. I should go see if there’s anything I can do to help get us moored. Are you good here?”

“We are,” Sanji confirms, Sora held safely in his arms. “Make sure they put the gangplank down, would you? It’ll be the safest way for him to disembark.”

“Already on it,” Zoro says, starting to stride away with a casual wave of one hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Confident the swordsman means it, Sanji watches him go until he’s out of sight, and then returns his attention to Sora. “So, what do you think?” He asks, nodding at where the Baratie is now looming over the Sunny. “This is going to be your new home. Are you okay with growing up here?”

Predictably, Sora doesn’t provide much by way of an answer. He does twist his neck so that he’s facing the new ship, however, and, despite Chopper’s insistence that he’s far too young to see things more than a few inches away from him, Sanji chooses to believe he’s giving her an approving look.

“I grew up here, you know,” he says then, giving the ship his own fond look. “I was older than you are now, and she was a lot smaller in those days, but she was the first real home I ever had. I hope you love her as much as I do.”

“I hope for a lot of things for you,” he adds softly. “I’ve already told you this, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you have a better childhood than mine. No one is ever going to make you think you’re a failure, and no matter what you grow up to be, I’m going to be proud of you.”

“Unless you decide you want to follow in your father’s footsteps,” he declares, making a face. “I don’t need two deranged swordsmen in my life, okay? It’s not healthy.”

Sora, distressingly, makes no promises.

*****
“Sanji! You’re back early! What happened? Did your crew already get tired of having you around, so they’re forcing you back on us? I bet that’s it!”

Looking far too pleased at his stupid joke, Patty laughs heartily, heedless of the pointed glare Sanji is currently shooting his way. He also seems to have somehow failed to notice the baby in the younger man’s arms, unlike Carne, who’s making a show of lifting his smokey eyeglasses so he can peer at Sora in shock.

“What’ve you got there, kid?” The older chef asks in a voice that’s tinged with suspicion. “Who the hell gave you a baby?”

“A freaky shrine built by a random devil fruit user,” Sanji tells him, getting some mild enjoyment from the way both Patty and Carne are now gaping. “It’s a long story. Where’s the old man?”

“In his office,” Patty says weakly, all traces of humor having left his face. “Does he know about this?”

“He’s about to,” Sanji replies grimly. “Come along, Mossball,” he adds, reaching behind him to grab for the trailing end of the sash around Zoro’s waist. “It’s time to face the music and I can’t have you wandering off to get lost yet.”

“I’m not going to get lost!” Zoro - because he’s somehow still oblivious to his directional challenges even after ten years of the crew chasing him all over creation - insists. “I’ll figure out this place no problem.”

Glad to have something other than his growing case of nerves to focus on, Sanji snorts. “We’ll be lucky if you’ve learned how to find the kitchen on your own by Sora’s first birthday,” he says. “Maybe by the time he’s eighteen, you’ll have about half the ship down.”

“You’re such an ass.” Zoro tells him, but he allows Sanji to lead him from the docking area, through the main dining room and the kitchen, and into the back rooms where the administrative side of things happens. Sanji keeps an office of his own back here, but today he passes by it in favour of aiming for the biggest of all.

Zeff’s left the door open a crack, which is usually a sign that he’s not busy enough to mind being disturbed. Taking a deep breath, Sanji drops Zoro’s sash and moves to push the door all the way open with his free hand.

“Hey, old man, you’ve probably already heard that I’m back, but I figured I should come tell you why right away.” Deciding to just bite the bullet, Sanji forces those words out as he sweeps into the office with Zoro trailing along behind him. They’re likewise accompanied by excited babbling from Sora, who naturally is the first thing to catch Zeff’s attention.

“Eggplant, what in the world?” The old chef starts, his bushy eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “What’s going on here?”

“Devil fruit bullshit,” Zoro says before Sanji has a chance to stop him. “You have to admit, though, he’s pretty cute.”

Sora shrieks in delight, as if to say he’s in agreement.

“Hush you,” Sanji tells him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead. “And hush you for that matter,” he says with a pointed look in Zoro’s direction. “The last thing we need is you adding your two cents on the matter until I’ve had a chance to explain everything.”

“I just did explain everything,” Zoro retorts. “Devil fruit bullshit, but the cute kind.”

Sanji makes a beleaguered noise but returns to where Zeff is still staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “This is Sora,” he says firmly, holding up the baby in his arms. “We made him. Accidentally.”

“But a good accident,” Zoro clarifies.

“Right, that.” Sanji agrees. “And we’re keeping him.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Zeff wheezes. Nevermind the fact that he is, in actuality, already doing so. “You two clowns, the pair of you, triggered some kind of devil fruit based event, and it made a baby? Have I got that right?”

“Accidentally,” Zoro and Sanji say in tandem. For his part, Zeff looks like he’s considering throttling both of them.

“Right, yes, ‘accidentally’,” he says, flashing a sarcastic set of air quotes. “That fact has been well established at this point. As for the rest of it - you’re keeping him? Both of you, together?”

“Not in a romantic way,” Sanji rushes to explain. “We’ll just be … co-parents. Here on the Baratie because it’s safer than the Sunny.”

“I see,” Zeff says, still sounding a little short of breath. “So basically you, Eggplant, have decided to turn my restaurant into both a nursery and the home of a world class lunatic, who’s probably going to draw all sorts of unsavory types who’re after his title, is that right?”

Sanji grimaces. “It’s … perhaps not entirely inaccurate,” he allows. “Although we’re hoping it’ll take a while for anyone to realize the Mossball is here. Plus it’s far enough into the Grand Line that not all potential challengers will come out.”

“Regardless,” Zeff stresses. “That’s your plan?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, next question,” Zeff huffs. “Why in god’s name didn’t you warn me about any of this beforehand?! I know you know how to use a snail, boy, and a bit of a head’s up would have been nice!”

“Oh that’s easy,” Zoro again cuts in before Sanji can. “Curls was freaking out that you’d freak out and didn’t want to take the risk that you’d shoot him down before we got out here.”

Zeff makes a face that suggests every adult in this room aside from him is an idiot. “Eggplant.” He says flatly, Sanji wincing at his tone.

“Yeah?” He tries, wondering how this is going to go.

Zeff holds out his arms. “Give me my damn grandbaby.”

And Sanji most assuredly doesn’t go weak in the knees at this, but he does hurry to follow the command. Carefully rounding the desk to hand Sora over, he waits until the baby is safely nestled in Zeff’s arms before stepping back.

“He might fuss because he doesn’t know you,” he’s quick to note, “but don’t take it personally. He’s a really friendly baby and it doesn’t take him long to settle.”

“Yeah, that’s not what you’re going to have to worry about,” Zoro drawls from behind him. “What you’re going to have to worry about is - ”

Sora reaches up, grabs one end of Zeff’s ever impressive mustache in a chubby fist, and yanks.

“ - that.” Zoro concludes, while Sanji feels his own face flush. “Anything he can reach, he’s going to pull.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Zeff says, even as he deftly unhooks the braid from Sora’s clutches. “Lad’s got a good strong grip on him is what that shows, and would you look at the eyes? Not hard to tell where those came from.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Sanji admits, flushing harder. “Chopper says babies always start out with blue eyes, though, so they could still change when he gets a little older.”

Zeff and Zoro let out identical scoffing sounds, and then look at each other like they can’t believe they’ve shared the same reaction.

“So, Cabbage,” Zeff says slowly, his eyes never leaving Zoro’s face. “I’m to understand that you’re sticking around then, is that so?”

Zoro shrugs. “Kid’s gonna be here, so I’m gonna here,” he confirms. “I’m no deadbeat.”

Zeff makes a ‘hmphing’ noise, but Sanji can easily tell his heart’s not really in it. “I suppose it’s better than the little fella coming from a broken home,” he allows. “But you better be prepared to carry your weight around here. There’ll be no freeloaders on my damn ship.”

“It’s my ship now,” Sanji reminds him, his hands firmly planted on his hips. “Or did you forget you signed her over to me again?”

“I haven’t forgotten a damn thing,” Zeff sniffs. “My mind’s as good as ever, sharp as a tack and all that.”

“Right, well, my ship, my rules,” Sanji announces. “And while I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for our newly obtained fauna to do, right now our biggest focus is going to have to be on the renovations.”

“Renovations?” Zeff echoes, a decidedly unimpressed lilt to his tone. “Exactly what do we have that needs renovating, pray tell?”

“The upper most level,” Sanji replies, referring to the spot where his and Zeff’s personal living quarters are located. “Mosshead and I aren’t about to be sharing, but putting him in with the crew is just asking for trouble. We need to get him his own space.”

“Don’t worry,” he concludes when Zeff continues staring at him with his eyebrows raised. “I already talked to Franky, and he’s on it.”

Zeff stiffens, and Sanji suspects the only thing that keeps him from storming out of the room is that he’s still holding Sora. “You intend to let that lunatic robot have his way with my ship?!”

“My ship,” Sanji corrects, at the same time Zoro mutters something about Franky being a cyborg, not a robot. “Don’t worry. She’ll be in good hands.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Zeff grunts.

*****
The upper level promptly devolves into chaos, such that even Zeff, whose rooms aren’t actually being touched by the construction, decides to temporarily bunk with the staff while he waits for the mess and noise to clear up. For their part, Zoro and Sanji decide to continue sleeping on the Sunny for the duration, figuring they might as well since they already have beds there.

Truth be told, Sanji’s going to miss the crew something fierce when they finally leave. Admittedly, he always does, but right now he has all kinds of extra hands who are willing to help him with Sora, including at night when the baby wakes. Late night feedings have become a group effort in the men’s quarters, and having to shift to doing it on his own is going to be rough.

Of course, he’s still going to have Zoro, he knows that, but it won’t be the same. Plus, they’ve agreed that Sora’s going to sleep in his room since Zoro’s going to be mainly responsible for him during the day. That means most of the nighttime work is going to fall on Sanji by default, even if Zoro’s already made a point of telling him he can wake him at any time.

“Seriously,” the swordsman says while they're discussing it yet again during an inspection of the ongoing renos. “I get most of my sleep from cat naps throughout the day anyway. You don’t have to worry about waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“It’ll be fine, Marimo,” Sanji says breezily, ducking around a bunch of scaffolding to get a better look at the new addition. “You’re going to have him ninety percent of the time during the day while I’m running the restaurant, so it’s only fair for me to pitch in in the evenings.”

“Except you working all the time means that you definitely need your sleep,” Zoro points out. “You can’t do it all, Curls. That’s not how life works. You’ll burn out.”

“Please,” Sanji scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “After keeping up with Luffy for years, running the Baratie is basically a walk in the park. I could do it with my eyes closed and still have more than enough energy left over to take care of Sora. I’ve got this.”

Zoro gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe him, but also knows better than to argue with him. “Just promise you’ll ask for help if you need it,” he says finally. “You’re no good to Sora if you don’t take care of yourself first, and I want to be involved. I’ve told you like a million times already, I’m in this.”

“I know you are.” Sanji assures him, at the same time sternly telling himself not to read anything into that. Zoro’s here because of Sora, and that’s the only reason. “But you can’t do everything for him either.”

“Maybe not,” Zoro allows, shrugging. “But I’m going to have a lot more free time on my hands than you are.”

“Let’s just play it by ear,” Sanji says, frankly tired of going in circles around the matter. “Regardless of how we think things are going to play out, it’s all going to come down to what Sora needs in the end, and Chopper keeps stressing to me how all babies are different.”

“Only to a point,” Zoro counters, but he does leave off the discussion.

They finish looking around, and by mutual agreement head for one of the private outdoor patios that the crew have essentially claimed as their own. Putting a group as famous as the Strawhats in the main dining area was just asking to have people gawk at them, and they’re still trying to keep a low profile where Sora’s concerned.

And speaking of Sora, he’s living out one of Sanji’s youthful fantasies by being cuddled into Robin’s chest when they find him. Based on the way his eyelids are dropping, it looks like he’s about to doze off, and Sanji wonders if anyone has bothered to bring one of his carriers out here.

As if she can read his mind, Robin glances up as he and Zoro approach, and gives them a serene smile. “He’s fine where he is, Sanji,” she says before he has a chance to offer to take the baby. “I have nowhere to be and no need to move.”

“Are you sure?” Sanji asks, feeling inexplicably guilty. “I’m not working in the kitchen today, so I can take him. Or the Moss can, you don’t have to feel obligated to keep holding him.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t,” she replies, again with another of those soft smiles. “I’m perfectly happy right where I am.”

Franky gives her a scrutinizing look from where he’s sitting not far from her. “You know,” he muses aloud, “I can’t help but think you might be trying to send me some kind of message, babe. It’s subtle, but I think it’s there.”

“Now there’s a terrifying thought,” Usopp mumbles around a stack of fish tacos he’s steadily making his way through. “First Zoro and Sanji reproduce, and then you and Robin? The world wouldn’t know what hit it.”

“Maybe not,” Franky grins, “but you have to admit that the lady and I would make one super baby.”

“Perhaps that’s a discussion the two of you should have in private,” Jinbe rumbles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Or at least not quite so out in the open.”

Shrugging affably, Franky turns to where Zoro and Sanji are pulling out seats for themselves. “So you guys just got back from upstairs, huh? What do you think of it so far?”

“Honestly, it was kind of hard to see much with all the equipment and materials strewn everywhere,” Sanji admits, half of his attention on where Sora’s eyes are now fully closed. “I’ll probably have to see the final product before I can answer that question.”

“Fair enough, bro, but you’re going to love it,” Franky assures him. “I’ve got everything you need covered, and I’ve even come up with a few more ideas of things I can build you for the little guy before we shove off. Some of ‘em, Usopp’s going to help me with.”

Usopp grins at them over another taco. “I’m going to add some artistic flare to the end result.”

“Sounds ominous,” Zoro grunts, leaning forward to swipe a taco off the other man’s plate. “Don’t do anything too weird, or I’ll tie your nose in a knot.”

“Jerk,” Usopp mutters, hunching over the remaining tacos protectively. “You just don’t understand my vision.”

“He is an uncultured brute, it’s true,” Sanji laments, nudging Zoro with his foot and earning himself a glare for his troubles. “Having said that, I also don’t want anything too extreme in the place. Try and keep it on the tame side, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ruin all my fun, why don’t you?”

*****
By the time the Strawhats depart the All Blue, the Baratie has a completely revamped upper floor and has been babyproofed within an inch of its life. There are still a few areas - namely the kitchen - that can’t be entirely warded for safety, but even that’s as good as Franky can make it.

And nor had the crew stopped there. Sanji’s room now sports every furnishing one could possibly want to assist in the care of a newborn, from a crib to a changing table to a gorgeous rocking chair that Sora loves falling asleep in. There are toys and books and games, and more clothes than one could shake a stick at. For all that Sora had been a surprise, the Strawhats had stepped up to support their newest member wholeheartedly.

Naturally, this only makes the inevitable goodbyes even harder. Hence why Sanji now finds himself standing in one of the more secluded areas of the decking, willing himself not to cry as he hugs Nami tightly.

It’s just the Strawhats (plus Sora) out here for the moment. The Baratie has yet to open to customers for the day, and the staff are holed up inside getting ready for the first rush. It allows for a welcome bit of privacy that wouldn’t normally be an option at the busy restaurant.

“Ohh, I’m going to miss you so much, you and your cooking.” Nami declares as she finally releases him and shuffles over to where Zoro’s standing with Sora tucked into a sling Usopp had insisted they get their hands on. “We always eat so much better when you’re with us.”

Sanji chuckles weakly. “I’m glad to hear you’ll always have some use for me, Dearest,” he says, smiling when she gives him a fondly exasperated look.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” she reminds him, even as she ducks low to coo over Sora. “I think we’re going to have to leave you in charge, little one. Promise me you’ll do a good job of keeping your dumb daddies in line, okay?”

Sora squeaks as she tickles him under the chin, both his tiny fists waving in the air in excitement. Then he reaches to make a grab for her hair, only missing because she sees him coming and ducks in time.

“None of that,” she admonishes, blowing kisses at him despite her words. “That’s a naughty habit you have there, and I expect you to have gotten over it by the time I see you again.”

“No promises,” Zoro rumbles. “Hell, maybe we’ll teach him to do it just to you.”

Without breaking stride, Nami reaches up and flicks him right between the eyes with her fingers. “You will not turn my precious nephew against me, sword boy,” she says firmly. “He and I are going to be thick as thieves as he grows up.”

“Just so long as you don’t convince him to grow up to be a thief,” Zoro says, earning himself another flick for his troubles. “Would you stop that?”

Nami gives him a winsome smile and bats her eyes. “No.”

Snorting at their antics, Sanji shares a look with Usopp where the sniper’s sidled over to make his own goodbyes. Several of the crew have already done so and returned to the Sunny, but there are still a pair of stragglers left.

“So,” Usopp says with a grin, his hands curled around the straps of the overalls he’s wearing. “Are you about ready to do this?”

“Not even remotely,” Sanji admits. “I know it’s already been a month and a half, but I’m still terrified I’m going to kill him if I so much as look at him funny.”

His grin widening, Usopp releases his hold on one strap and thumps Sanji on the shoulder. “Welcome to parenthood, buddy,” he says. “I was the same way when the girls were born, and that was with Kaya being a doctor.”

Sanji gives him a dirty look. “You’re really selling this,” he says dryly.

Usopp holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, the twins are four now and so far they remain largely unscathed. Whatever the deal is, I must be doing something right. Plus, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got the Baratie staff around to help you, not to mention the big guy.”

“Yeah,” Sanji allows, glancing briefly at Zoro and then back again. “I guess things could be worse.”

“You’re damn right, they could be,” Usopp agrees. “Plus, you know full well the crew is only ever a snail call away, and we’ll all be back to visit. Kaya’s already talking about wanting to bring the girls out to meet Sora.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Sanji says. “And I know I would. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen your lovely wife.”

“It’s a date then,” Usopp says, giving him one last thump. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go say goodbye to your demon co-parent and remind Sora who his favorite uncle is.”

“You all need to stop vying for his affections,” Sanji says as he watches the younger man move away. “He’s too young to understand, and you’re going to wind up confusing him.”

“Shishishi,” says the only Strawhat left near him. “Sora’s not going to get confused. He knows we all love him! Just like we love you and Zoro.”

“Is that so?” Sanji asks, tilting his head to the side and grinning at the only man he’ll ever call his captain. “Well, no accounting for taste, I suppose.”

Luffy laughs again, his mouth stretching wide in a huge grin, and he wastes no time in wrapping Sanji up in a bear hug. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he promises, the words, surprisingly, spoken for Sanji’s ears only. “You’ve got this under control.”

“I highly doubt that,” Sanji says, returning the hug with fervor, “but thanks for saying it anyway.”

“Nah, I’m right and you know it,” Luffy says, gripping Sanji by the shoulders when he pulls back. Dark eyes bore into Sanji’s own, the other man unusually serious as he speaks. “Sora’s lucky to have you, both of you. You guys are going to make sure that he grows up big and strong, and safe and happy. It’s all going to turn out right.”

“You say that,” Sanji notes, “but there’s like a million ways this could go wrong. So many ways, in fact, that I can’t even tell you which is the one I’m most worried about because there’s like a dozen of them fighting for first place.”

Luffy shakes him, gently by his standards, but still hard enough that he recognizes it for the reprimand it is. “No doubting yourself, Sanji,” he commands. “After all this time, you know better than that.”

He doesn’t, not really, but denying Luffy has always been something he’s terrible at. “If you say so, Captain,” he murmurs. “I’m going to do my damnedest to get it right, I can promise you that much.”

“You say that like it doesn’t count for everything,” Luffy says, flashing him another grin. “That’s all anyone can ask, and it’s all Sora’s going to want. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sanji replies. “I really do.”

“I am,” Luffy says firmly, giving him a light slap on the cheek. “Call if you need us, don’t get stuck in your own head, and let Zoro help you. He’ll lie if you point it out, but we all know he likes it when people lean on him.”

“Fuck you, Luffy.”

Sanji despairs of everything. “What happened to not swearing in front of the baby?”

“Desperate times,” Zoro says with a shrug. He then squawks indignantly when Luffy wraps him in a multilimbed hug. “Luffy! Be careful of the baby!”

“I am and he likes it!” Luffy cackles, making a ridiculous face at Sora. “Bye, little buddy. I’m gonna miss you and you better be all big and strong the next time I see you. We’re going to have so many adventures together!”

“Over my dead body.” Sanji huffs, and the look on Zoro’s face suggests that he feels the same. “We’re not letting you drag a second generation into your insanity.”

“You say that now!” Luffy says. Still grinning, he leans down to smack a messy kiss to Sora’s head, and then up to do the same thing to Zoro.

“Bye you guys!” He crows, leaping away and running for the Sunny while Zoro sputters. “We’ll see you again soon!”

Sanji reaches for his cigarettes as he watches him go, figuring he may as well take the chance to indulge while he’s outside. “Is it just me,” he muses, “or did that sound like a threat?”

Zoro doesn’t even bother to stop rubbing his now salvia coated cheek against the sleeve of his coat. “Of course it did, it’s Luffy.”

*****
Figuring that Sora’s going to have enough to adjust to following the departure of the crew, Sanji opts to wait another day to make his return to the Baratie’s kitchen. He’s been cooking off and on in there while the Sunny had been docked, but he’s yet to work anything close to a full shift.

That can start tomorrow, he decides. Today he’s going to spend with Sora (and Zoro by default).

The three of them wind up on one of the upper level decks that overlooks the surrounding waters. There’s an awning to protect Sora’s delicate skin from the sun, and the All Blue is serving up a particularly spectacular view today as they watch the customer’s ships start to arrive.

Sanji leans over the railing so he can get a better look at the men, women, and even a handful of children who’re the first to partake in the Baratie’s meals this afternoon. He thinks he spots a few repeat customers, but most of the people are strangers to him.

“At least none of them look like trouble,” he muses, and Zoro shifts in the deckchair next to him.

“Wazzat?” The swordsman asks from where he’s sacked out in an ungainly sprawl. His good eye is open only the barest sliver, and Sora’s dozing on his stomach, secured in place by a combination of the world’s most ragged haramaki and a heavily scarred hand that’s resting on his back.

A rush of fondness wells up in Sanji, strong enough that it’d risk knocking him off his feet if he weren’t already sitting down. Forcing himself to look away lest his face reveal something it shouldn’t, he directs his smile down at the arriving patrons instead.

“Nothing, Marimo,” he says belatedly. “I was just thinking out loud. You should try it sometime.”

“Which one?” Zoro asks. “Thinking out loud or thinking period?”

A laugh claws its way out of Sanji’s throat unbidden, and when he twists back around, he finds Zoro grinning at him, looking smug. “I see how it is,” he says. “The shrubbery’s got jokes.”

“More like you’ve just gotten predictable after all these years,” Zoro replies with a one-shoulder shrug. The hand holding Sora starts absently rubbing circles on the baby’s back, and a lone grey eye briefly glances down. “Speaking of predictable, he’s going to be looking for a bottle soon.”

“It is about that time,” Sanji acknowledges. “Do you want me to go grab one while you wait here?”

Zoro flutters the fingers of his free hand in an incomprehensible pattern in the air. “If I move now he’s going to wake up, and you know he’ll be cranky if he has to wait for his snack.”

“He does tend to express his displeasure with hunger at a high volume,” Sanji agrees. Swinging his legs over the side of his chair, he shoves himself upright, straightening his now wrinkled shirt as he goes.

“Alright, I’m on it,” he promises. “Don’t go wandering off while I’m gone, or it might take hours to find you again.”

Zoro gives him a familiar one-fingered salute over the top of Sora’s head, leaving Sanji grateful that the baby is still napping. Snapping off a similar response of his own, he heads for the nearest stairwell, and from there to the kitchen.

One of Franky’s many updates to the Baratie had included a mini fridge that’s meant to hold only items for Sora. He’s too young for it to carry anything but his bottles so far, but the staff have nevertheless all been warned not to touch it under pain of death.

The sounds and smells of a bustling kitchen reach him the moment he opens the door, and Sanji has to navigate his way through a throng of people in order to get to the fridge. He’s almost made it when Zeff emerges from the crowd.

“Eggplant,” he says sternly, his still formidable arms crossed over his chest. “I thought you were spending the day with the Sprout before coming back to work?”

“One, stop calling him that, and two, you thought right,” Sanji says without looking up from the fridge. He cracks the door open and pulls a bottle free, holding it up to show Zeff what he was after. “It’s chow time for growing boys.”

“Ah,” Zeff replies, immediately clocking what’s brought him to the kitchen. “Do you want me to have some plates sent up for you and the Cabbage too?”

“We can sort ourselves out,” Sanji promises, not wanting to seem like they’re expecting special treatment. “Don’t worry about it.”

Zeff gives him a look that suggests he’s being dumb, but Zeff’s been giving him looks like that for twenty years. Undeterred, Sanji salutes him with the bottle and makes his way back out of the kitchen.

Sora’s awake when he reaches the upper level, and by the sound of things he’s not happy about it. A shrill, demanding cry that Sanji recognizes as the one he uses when his stomach is empty can be heard echoing across the deck, so the cook is quick to hasten his stride.

“I’ve got it,” he says, holding the bottle triumphantly aloft as he climbs the last few steps. “One bottle of high grade formula coming right up.”

“Forget the theatrics, just get over here and give it to me,” Zoro commands, one hand outstretched while the other adjusts its grip on Sora. Once the baby’s safely tucked into the crook of his elbow, he takes the bottle from Sanji and brings it within range. “There we go, that’s better.”

Reasonably assured that Zoro can handle this part on his own, Sanji sinks into his previously vacated chair. “I can’t get over how much he eats,” he says idly, watching Sora eagerly latch onto the bottle. “I know Chopper said his appetite is normal, but it seems like a lot to me.”

“That’s because you have zero experience with babies,” Zoro reminds him. “Literally all they do is eat, sleep, scream, and make messes of themselves. At least at this age. They get more interesting once they’re a little older.”

“He’s plenty interesting,” Sanji says staunchly, and Zoro looks up, his expression momentarily unreadable.

For a second Sanji feels like he’s undergoing some kind of intense examination, but then Zoro’s scrutiny relaxes, and he smiles. And not one of his dangerous, feral ones either, but rather something far more gentle.

“Yeah, he is,” he agrees, “but we’re probably biased.”

Sanji shrugs. “Just because someone’s biased doesn’t necessarily mean they’re wrong,” he says.

“Mhm,” Zoro hums in agreement, his attention now back on Sora. “Guess not.”

Vindicated, Sanji nods and reclines back in his seat. Neither of them says anything further as they watch Sora eat, not until Zoro lifts up the bottle and studies it with a critical eye.

“There’s still a bit left, but I think he’s done for now,” he says. “It hasn’t gone down any for a couple of minutes.”

“Put it on the arm rest there,” Sanji suggests, motioning at the same spot. “That way you have it handy if he decides he wants to finish it.”

Zoro gives him a look that utters the words ‘no shit’ loud and clear, but does as instructed. Then he leans Sora up against his shoulder and starts to burp him.

“You’re going to want to use a cloth for that,” Sanji warns. “Or else he’s going to spit up on you.”

“Because he hasn’t done that a hundred times already,” Zoro says, rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, Curls. I don’t mind if he makes a bit of a mess.”

“I despair of you,” Sanji tells him, but Zoro merely continues on unimpeded.

Sanji watches man and baby for a little longer, unsurprised when Sora eventually lets out a ragged belch that splatters Zoro’s shoulder. “Told you so,” he says smugly. “I hope you realize you’re going to be doing your own laundry from here on out.”

“I’ll survive,” Zoro replies, as indifferent to the mess as he’d promised. “And it’s not like he cares.”

“No doubt," Sanji says, watching as Zoro transfers the baby back to the earlier hold in the crook of his elbow, Sora babbling to himself all the while. “Looks like he’s feeling pretty awake now.”

“Looks like,” Zoro agrees. “He’ll doze off again eventually though.”

“Obviously,” Sanji says, before adding unbidden, “This is going to be really weird, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” Glancing up from where Sora’s now gripping his fingers, Zoro gives him a confused look. “What was that?”

“I said this,” Sanji waves a hand to encompass not only the three of them, but also the restaurant and the surrounding ocean. “It’s going to be weird.”

“Eh,” Zoro shrugs. “Unexpected, maybe, but we’ve dealt with way weirder. Pretty much every island we visited while searching for the One Piece was weirder than the last, and the same again goes for the people we met.”

“I guess,” Sanji allows. “Still, this is a different kind of weird. It’s definitely not how I saw my life playing out, and it’s a big change. Especially for you.”

Zoro cocks his head to the side, his expression unreadable. “Is this the part where you tell me I don’t have to stick around if I don’t want to?” He asks. “Because I honestly figured you’d pull that one before the crew left, and I’d have preferred it too. It would’ve meant there were more people around to hold the baby while I kicked your ass.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji sputters, but Zoro apparently isn’t done yet. His tone and posture don’t change, leaving Sora thankfully unaware of anything, but the look on his face is more than enough to stop Sanji in his tracks.

“I’ve told you like a thousand times already that I’m in this,” Zoro insists, his eye blazing. “And I’m not doing it out of some sense of obligation, either, or whatever other horseshit you’re telling yourself over there. You’ve known me for ten years, asshole, and not once in all that time have I ever done something big, something serious unless I wanted to. I’m here because this is where I want to be, and that’s all there is to it.”

Licking lips that have gone dry, Sanji has to open and close his mouth a few times before he can force any words out. “You want to be here because Sora’s here, you mean,” he clarifies, and Zoro sighs.

“Yeah, Curls,” he says simply. “I want to be where Sora is. Does that work?”

And it’s not like there’s anything Sanji can say to that now, is there?

*****
Neither of them stray far from Sora as the afternoon fades into the early evening and eventually nighttime is upon them. They even eat supper together in Sanji’s quarters, while Sora snoozes in his swing, and Zoro goes so far as to insist on helping with the dishes.

Sanji thinks that’ll be the last he sees of him before they turn in for the night, but yet again he finds himself in the wrong. Zoro refuses to leave when Sanji tries to usher him out so he can get Sora ready for bed. He plants his feet in the middle of the room, and won’t be budged.

“I want to help,” he says when Sanji’s just about ready to pull his hair out. “In fact, I think it should be me who does the bedtime stuff going forward.”

“What are you - we already decided that he’s sleeping in here with me,” Sanji hisses, bristling without intending to. “I’ll hardly ever see him if I’m working during the day and you’ve got him at night.”

Zoro’s hands quickly shoot up into a surrender position. “That’s not what I meant,” he says in a rush, his intent to soothe ruffled feathers plain. “I meant literally just getting him ready for bed. That way you can have a bit of a break after work before taking over.”

“No deal,” Sanji retorts, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. “That still means I basically only have him when he’s sleeping, or on the rare days when I’m not working. I want to actually do things with him.”

Zoro’s brow furrows the way it does when he’s faced with a rare problem that slicing something with his swords won’t fix. “Alright, how about this,” he says after a moment of visibly wracking his brain for a solution. “We do the bedtime stuff together. That way we both get to spend time with him, and we both have help.”

Sanji’s about to protest that he doesn’t need help and Zoro’s already going to have so much more one on one time with Sora than him, only to stop when he realizes how ridiculous that sounds. Plus, it’ll probably be good for Sora to be around them together at the same time, and this is pretty much the only opportunity that’s presenting itself.

“Alright, fine,” he says instead. “But if you make a nuisance of yourself, I’m kicking you out. Also, I’m the one who’s going to read any stories to him. Robin gave me a whole bunch of books she picked up on the return to All Blue, and she says it’s important for his development that we use them.”

“Sure,” Zoro says, seemingly picking his battles for once. “If that one’s important to you then have at it.”

“I will,” Sanji says firmly. “In the meantime, you can get him ready for his bath. He’s due for one tonight, and maybe I’ll get lucky and the odd bit of soap will transfer onto you. A man can dream, anyway.”

“You’re such a dick,” Zoro says, and Sanji thinks absently about how they should probably invest in a swear jar as he wanders off to get the necessary supplies.

Having Zoro around to get Sora fed, bathed, and changed turns out to not be entirely horrible. The swordsman is as studious in these tasks as he is any others involving the baby, and he and Sanji manoeuvre around each other in the small space with an ease that suggests they’ve been doing it for years. Before either of them knows it, Sora’s down for the count and conked out in his crib.

“I’ll take care of any late night issues,” Sanji reminds Zoro as he guides the other man out of his quarters. “You get some rest and then I’ll hand him off to you in the morning before I go on shift. After that, I guess we’ll just go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Zoro says as he allows himself to be ushered out the door. He sounds a little reluctant to go, however, but Sanji tells himself that’s just wishful thinking on his part.

“See you tomorrow,” he says, and thinks he hears Zoro murmur something similar as he closes the door.

Sanji stares at said closed door for several beats, listening without success for the sound of the swordsman’s footsteps moving away. The walls are pretty solid, though, and he can’t make anything out.

Taking a deep breath, he shuffles away from the door and begins the task of tidying his quarters. Sora remains sound asleep as he does this, and is still down for the count when Sanji later emerges from the en suite bathroom, having now completed his own nighttime routine.

Even though he knows he should get some sleep - morning’s going to come early and late night feedings even sooner - Sanji finds himself wandering over to the crib and bracing his arms on the railing. Like a man in a daze, he stares down at Sora’s sleeping form, watching his tiny chest rise and fall while he sleeps.

Well aware of the risk of disturbing the sleeping baby, Sanji lets one hand dangle into the crib, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of Sora’s cheek. “I’m going to try so hard not to screw this up,” he whispers, smiling when a little puff of warm air ghosts over his skin. “I’ll probably fail in the end, but I need you to know that I tried with everything I had, okay? I really did.”

Sora sleeps on with a smile on his lips that Sanji’s going to take as a sign of acknowledgement. Drawing his hand back, he carefully adjusts the blanket they’d slipped over the baby, and then heads for his own bed.

*****
Sanji learns very quickly that sharing a room with a month and a half old baby is not at all conducive to getting a decent night’s sleep. Sora’s up constantly throughout that first night, and he continues the same pattern for the next several days that follow.

Part of Sanji is baffled. While Sora had certainly woken for feedings during his time on the Sunny, both the frequency and duration had been nothing compared to what they are now. There’s seemingly no reason for the abrupt change in behaviour.

Except, of course, for the obvious. Sora’s life has been disrupted in a major way with the move to the Baratie, and he’s gone from having all kinds of people caring for him at night down to one. Sanji can only assume that he’s been labeled an inept caregiver, and that his baby is unimpressed by him.

Eventually, he makes the mistake of voicing this thought aloud in a sleep-deprived fit of psychosis, and very nearly takes a pegleg to the face for his troubles.

“Eggplant, of all the foolish - !” Zeff looks like he’s about three seconds away from force feeding Sanji the stack of invoices they’re going through, and then bodily kicking him off the ship. “Your kid doesn’t hate you, he’s just thrown by the change in routine.”

“You don’t know that,” Sanji replies from where he’s facedown in a pile of old menus. “You can’t know that. You’re not psychic and he can’t talk. Therefore, you have no evidence on which to base that conclusion.”

“I have all the evidence I need,” Zeff retorts, snatching Sanji’s impromptu pillows out from under him and causing his cheek to land on the desk. “That being the eyes God gave me and also my brain. You should try using yours for once. Preferably after you’ve had more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep.”

“I’d love to,” Sanji groans. “But I now live with a ten pound bundle of joy who seems determined to make sure I never sleep again. He’s doing it on purpose, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s the sleep deprivation talking,” Zeff says flatly. “Maybe try getting your head down for a bit, and with luck you’ll wake up talking something that isn’t utter nonsense.”

Shifting so that it’s his chin rather than his cheek resting on the desk, Sanji squints blurrily up at the only father figure he’s ever known. “Chopper says it’s important to sleep when the baby sleeps,” he announces. “Robin and the books she gave us say the same thing. They can’t all be wrong, but in this case said baby doesn’t sleep.”

“False,” Zeff replies, his words no less firm in the face of the view Sanji currently has that goes right up his nostrils. “Sora sleeps plenty. The whole crew keeps nearly tripping over him and your idiot swordsman, curled up together wherever they please. The difference being that the Cabbage is usually sleeping too, and he’s getting a full night's rest because you keep absconding with the baby. Either let him help in the evening’s more or - well, that’s it, really. That’s the solution.”

“Nights are my only time with Sora,” Sanji grunts, wondering why no one else seems to understand this issue. “I know you cheated by adopting a kid who was way past the up-every-hour stage, but trust me, it’s important bonding time.”

“‘Cheated’? No, never mind. Let’s deal with your other idiocy first.” Sanji can’t technically see Zeff’s eyebrows from this angle, but he’s confident based on voice alone that they’re raised as high as they’ll go. “You can’t continue on as you have been. You’re falling asleep at my desk, for crying out loud!”

“I’m resting my eyes,” Sanji protests, in vain as it happens, at least if Zeff’s effusive snort is anything to go by. “Whatever, it’s fine. Eventually he’ll start sleeping through the night better, and then by default I will too.”

“Not if you’ve already expired from exhaustion, you won’t,” Zeff is quick to counter. “Rule number one of taking care of a kid is that you have to take care of yourself first. He’s helpless on his own, and you’re no good to him like this.”

Gritting his teeth together, Sanji braces both hands on the desk and forces himself into a semi-upright position. “I don’t know how many different ways I can say this, but I’m going to keep right on repeating myself until everyone around here gets the message.”

“I spend my days running this restaurant,” he says, speaking in precise, clipped sentences. “I rarely, if ever, get a day off. Therefore, the time I can spend with Sora is limited. I don’t want to give it up, and as such I will make this work. I’ve run on less sleep for longer. It’ll be fine.”

“It won’t be,” Zeff replies, giving him a stink eye that would put Nami’s to shame. “But years of experience have taught me that there’s no reasoning with you when you’re like this. As such, I’m simply going to cut out the middle man and go above your head.”

Sanji peers at him, confused. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Zeff replies. “Just be aware that desperate times call for desperate measures, and I’m not afraid to play dirty when it comes to making sure my boys are taken care of.”

Sanji frowns. “That sounds ominous,” he says, “and is doing nothing to settle my nerves.”

“Eggplant, at this point I’m pretty sure your nerves have nerves,” Zeff sighs. “Calm down, would you? I just meant that we’re going to have to get creative in coming up with a solution to the situation in which we now find ourselves. Luckily, unlike you, I’ve slept more than three hours in the past week and, as such, am firing on all cylinders.”

“Leave it to me,” he concludes. “I’ve got an idea.”

*****
Just what exactly Zeff’s idea is, he refuses to elaborate on. He also summarily kicks Sanji out of his office and tells him to go have a damn nap before suppertime. Sanji tries to protest, but the door slamming shut in his face kind of makes that difficult.

He briefly considers going to work in the kitchen out of spite, but they’re full up on staff out there because he and Zeff are supposed to be doing inventory this afternoon. Since he’s more likely to get in the way under those circumstances, he mentally awards Zeff the win and drags himself off to his quarters.

He wakes a couple hours later with sticky fingers in his hair and someone drooling on his cheek. Cracking an eye open, he’s greeted with the sight of Sora’s gummy smile and immediately feels better about everything.

“And just where exactly did you come from?” He croons, rolling onto his back so that he can free his arms from the blankets and grab for the baby. “Who let you in here unsupervised?”

A snort off to his left alerts him to the fact that he and Sora aren’t nearly as alone as he’d first thought. Zoro gazes placidly back at him when Sanji turns to look at him, one hand braced on Sora to keep him from tumbling off the bed.

“You must really be tired if you didn’t even notice me sitting here,” he says when all Sanji does is blink at him in confusion, unable to comprehend the sight of the swordsman kneeling by the edge of his bed. “Your old man says you’re not getting enough sleep.”

“My old man’s full of crap and probably senile to boot,” Sanji replies, following the words up with a haughty sniff. “I’m fine.”

“You’re dead to the world at three thirty in the afternoon,” Zoro retorts. “You were so deep asleep that your haki didn’t even flare to tell you I was here.”

Sanji opens his mouth to tell him that’s not at all why his haki hadn’t flared, and then shuts it just as fast. His observation haki had stopped registering Zoro as a potential threat years ago, but like hell is he confessing that detail to the man himself of all people. That’s another one of the many secrets he intends to take with him to the grave.

Unfortunately, Zoro appears to have interpreted his reaction as an admission of his tiredness, and is now giving him a decidedly unimpressed look. “I told you that splitting things into a day shift and a night was a bad idea,” he says grumpily. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Because ninety-five percent of what comes out of your mouth is pure stupidity,” Sanji responds on autopilot. Shifting into an upright position, he leans back against the headboard, taking the baby with him. “Isn’t that right, Sora? Daddy talks nonsense all the time, doesn’t he?”

Sora blows a spit bubble at him.

“That means yes,” Sanji says, nodding sagely. “He’s very smart.”

“He is,” Zoro agrees, “but you’re a moron. If doing the nights all by yourself is too much for you, then say so. There’s no shame in admitting it.”

“The nights are fine,” Sanji stresses. “I mean, would I like to be getting a bit more sleep? Sure, but he’s going through a rough patch right now. I’m sure he’ll settle eventually and go back to being a good little sleeper again.”

Sora doesn’t provide any further commentary, but Sanji chooses to interpret his silence as agreement. “It’s fine, Marimo,” he says, making faces at the baby. “I’ve got everything under control.”

Zoro snorts. “You sound like you do when you talk about Whole Cake right now,” he says, which is frankly one of the most impressive insults he’s ever come up with. “You’re in denial.”

Sanji gives him an annoyed look. “Does the baby look like I’m not taking care of him?” He demands, holding Sora up for Zoro to see. “No? I didn’t think so. In that case, back off and leave me alone. I’m fine.”

Based on the look on Zoro’s face he’s not about to let the subject drop. Happily, however, Sora turns out to be a master of timing because he screws up his face and makes a noise that only ever signals one thing.

“Ugh, gross,” Sanji gags as a horrible smell fills the air. “How can someone so cute produce something so disgusting?”

“Talent,” Zoro replies, bracing his elbows on the side of the mattress and then shoving himself all the way upright. “Give him here, I’ll change him.”

“If you insist,” Sanji says,willing to pass off at least that much. “Up you go, my filthy little urchin. Let your equally filthy father deal with whatever mess you’ve created.”

“I showered last night,” Zoro mutters, taking the baby and carrying him over to the changing table. “And I haven’t shit myself since I was his age.”

“Thank you for that image,” Sanji drawls, wrinkling his nose.

Zoro shrugs, his large shoulders blocking Sora from view as he lays the baby down on the table. “We all did it,” he says without concern. “Every last person alive.”

“Maybe,” Sanji allows. “However I don’t think most people are quite so blase about it.”

“Sounds like a them problem,” Zoro replies, already busy efficiently divesting Sora of his onesie and soiled diaper. “Ugh, little man that is rank,” he grunts. “I’d ask what the hell did you eat, but we already know the answer.”

“Only the best, top of the line formula for him,” Sanji agrees. Kicking away the covers, he climbs to his feet and wanders over just in time to see Zoro snap the tabs of a fresh diaper in place. “Courtesy of the Baratie’s new kid’s menu.”

Zoro snorts, but he’s almost smiling when he turns around with Sora in his arms. “Are you aiming to corner a new market?” He asks, bouncing Sora lightly to make him squeal.

“Always,” Sanji says, reaching out to tickle Sora under the chin. “And just like in other parts of my life, I know what I’m doing.”

Zoro’s smile gets a little bleak around the edges, but Sanji can tell that the fight has gone out of him for now. “I hope so, Curls,” he says. “I hope so.”

*****
Sora has another night similar to the ones he’s been having since the Sunny departed. As such, Sanji’s utterly exhausted when he hands him off to Zoro the next morning, and is, in fact, so tired that he doesn’t initially notice the addition to the Baratie’s kitchen when he proceeds to drag himself down there.

Zeff’s the only person already present when Sanji slumps through the doors after having just sucked back three cigarettes in a row in the hope that the extra shot of nicotine will do what an entire pot of coffee can’t. He’s been trying to do better lately when it comes to smoking, but desperate times truly do call for desperate measures.

His disheveled state earns him a raised eyebrow followed by an unimpressed frown as he makes his way over to his station. He bumbles his way through getting everything up and running, making the kind of mistakes he hasn’t made in years, mainly because his eyes are still only half open.

It’s not until Patty, Carne, and about a dozen other chefs have arrived to start their days, that Sanji finally has his eyes all the way open. Feeling slightly (very slightly) more human, he splashes some cold water on his face, and that’s when he spots the tiny table and chair that have been tucked into a corner not far from the bottle fridge.

“What’s that doing there?” He asks, peering at it with his head tilted to the side, as if the different angle might somehow help him make sense of what he’s seeing. “It wasn’t there yesterday.”

Zeff grunts as he comes to stand next to him. “I’m pretty sure I should be concerned by how long it took you to notice it,” he says, scrubbing his hands on his apron. “You’ve been down here for almost two hours now.”

“I’ve also been busy,” Sanji mutters, his eyes still locked on the out of place furnishings. “Anyway, what gives? Are you trying to multitask by having a spot where you can do paperwork and yell at everyone at the same time?”

“No, but that’s not a bad idea,” Zeff says, stroking his chin with a thoughtful hum. “It’s for later, but you don’t have to worry about it right now. Come help me make sure the updated menus are ready.”

“You don’t need my help with that,” Sanji starts to remind him, but the older man already has his back turned and is stomping away down the aisle. Huffing, he follows after him.

He decides to put the table out of his mind for the time being, which is easy enough to do in a kitchen as busy as the Baratie’s. Never at a loss for things that need to be done, Sanji falls into the usual rhythm of preparing meals and sending them out to customers. Before he knows it, they’re well into the afternoon rush, and the dining room is packed to the brim with patrons.

That thought sends a swell of pride through him the way it always does, one that not even his ongoing tiredness can put damper on. Grinning to himself, he reaches for a nearby pan on the stove, only to freeze when a familiar screech reaches his ears.

Half thinking he’s imagining things, Sanji lifts his head and twists in the direction of the noise. His eyes then widen when he realizes that, sure enough, Sora’s in the kitchen.

He hasn’t just wandered in unsupervised, of course. Rather, he’s with Zoro, easily balanced on the swordsman’s lap where he’s seated safely tucked out of the way at the table that had caused so much confusion earlier. When he spots Sanji looking at them, Zoro calmly raises one of Sora’s hands and moves it up and down in a waving motion.

Taking that for the suggestion it is, Sanji checks to make sure his station is good for him to step away for a bit, and then carefully makes his way over to the pair. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks once he’s within earshot.

Zoro, because he’s a bastard, makes a show of glancing around the space. “Looks like we’re sitting to me,” he says after no other option has presented itself. “You got a problem with that?”

“I - no?” Sanji says, well aware that he sounds like he’s asking rather than telling. Thoroughly distracted by the way Sora’s now giving him a beseeching look, he holds out his arms, his intention plain. “Gimme.”

Flashing a crooked grin, Zoro does as instructed and passes the baby over. “He just ate a little while ago and he’s already been changed, so he shouldn’t need anything for a bit.”

“Well that’s good,” Sanji croons as he cuddles Sora close. “Because Papa’s working and can only do so many things at once. Like right now, for instance, he can hold the most precious baby in the world and keep waiting for an explanation for why said baby is in his kitchen.”

“It was the old man’s idea,” Zoro says, and right on cue Zeff comes tramping over.

“Cabbage,” he says gruffly. “You’re here on time. I’m almost impressed.”

Zoro just shrugs, wise enough not to get into some kind of pissing contest with the old chef. “You said come, so we came.”

“This is your doing?” Sanji asks, blinking at Zeff in confusion. “Why?”

“Consider it a killing two birds with one stone situation,” Zeff replies. “You don’t want to go all day without seeing the little fella, and I don’t want you so tired that you’re falling asleep in a stewpot. Maybe this way you’ll let the freeloader here do some of the night shift work.”

“Hey, I earn my keep,” Zoro protests, but neither chef pays him any mind. They’re too busy eyeing each other over the top of Sora’s head.

Sanji breaks first. “Won’t he be a distraction?” He says, the words pulled from him with extreme reluctance at the thought of sending Sora away already.

“Green bean there will still be around to actually keep an eye on him,” Zeff says with a pointed look at Zoro. “Or maybe we can set up a swing so he can nap and suchlike. The baby, I mean, not the other one.”

“And as for him being a distraction,” he continues on, his voice elevating in a way that’s meant to be heard by all the staff. “If I catch anyone fussing over the baby when they should be working it’s going to be my foot up their backside! Is that clear?”

“Yes, Chef!” A dozen voices dutifully shout back, and Zeff nods like that’s the end of things.

“There, you see? Problem solved.” He says decisively. “Now, take a few minutes to say hello, and then get your ass back on the line. I’m not paying you to sit around and look pretty.”

“You’re not paying me period, I’m paying me!” Sanji calls after him, but once again he’s talking to empty air. “God, he’s the worst.”

“Maybe,” Zoro says from where he’s still seated at the table. “He cares an awful lot about you, though, and Sora too.”

“Details, details,” Sanji says, choosing instead to concentrate on nuzzling Sora while he has the chance. “And how is my perfect little man doing?” He asks. “Are you having a good day?”

“He seems to be,” Zoro replies on the baby’s behalf. “I think he’s pretty interested in everything going on in here. Like father, like son, I guess.”

Refusing to acknowledge the swell of pride those words cause, Sanji gives Sora one last kiss and then moves to return him to Zoro. “Here,” he says reluctantly. “I’ve got to get back to work, but thanks for bringing him by.”

“S’not a problem,” Zoro says once he’s got Sora safely back in his arms. “And like I said, I think he’s having fun.”

Smiling, Sanji nods to show he’s heard, waves at Sora, and then turns to head back to his station with an admitted spring in his step.

*****
Sora and Zoro become regular visitors in the kitchen after that. Sanji can count on them occupying a spot at the tiny table at least once a day, sometimes twice, and a baby swing is ultimately installed near the spot for Sora to nap in.

None of the cooks seem to mind, in fact, most of them argue with each other for the chance to say hi to the baby when Zeff isn’t looking. Any actual fighting is now taken outside, and the amount of swearing diminishes exponentially, but otherwise the kitchen continues running smoothly. Honestly, Zeff’s the one who breaks the rule about not being distracted by the baby the most frequently, but he just plays the grandparent/boss card and gets away with it with impunity.

Before Sanji knows it, two months have passed since they’d returned to the Baratie, and three and a half since Sora was ‘born’. He finally feels like he’s got a routine down pat, and like he’s gotten his life back under some semblance of control. It may not have been the one he pictured, but nor is it one he’s disappointed by.

Which is probably why Sora chooses now to get sick for the first time ever.

It’s not his fault, of course. It’s not anyone’s really. What happens is a guest visits with a case of the sniffles, and unfortunately passes it on to a waiter, who gives it to a number of the staff - including an extremely irate Zeff - until eventually Sora wakes up one morning redfaced, screaming, and too warm to the touch.

Sanji clocks that something is wrong immediately. The cry Sora’s letting out isn’t one he’s ever heard before, and the baby is fussy and reluctant to take his bottle. When a quick check of his forehead reveals a potential fever, Sanji grabs a portable transponder snail and goes to find Zoro.

The swordsman is already awake when Sanji barges into his room. Bare from the waist up, he’s doing pushups on the floor with his swords and sword cleaning kit resting not far out of reach. He sits up as soon as Sanji enters, however, his eye narrowing in recognition of the fact that this isn’t a standard early morning visit.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, climbing to his feet and coming to stand in Sanji’s personal space so that he can get a better look at Sora. “You’re early.”

“I think he’s sick,” Sanji says, trying hard to keep any sign of worry from his voice. “He’s definitely not himself, so I want to call Chopper and was hoping you could help me with him while I do it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Zoro says, already holding out his arms. “Let me take him so you can have your hands free.”

“Thanks,” Sanji says. He then goes to do as instructed, only to find out that Sora has a different idea. The baby screams like never before when Sanji goes to release him, and only starts to settle when Sanji tucks him back into his chest.

Zoro, incredibly, is unphased. “Alright, new plan,” he says, nodding like Sora’s behaviour makes total sense. “You hold him, and I’ll make the call.”

“Okay,” Sanji says, letting him take the snail as opposed to the baby. He watches as Zoro lets in the correct code, and the sleeping snail comes awake with a battered straw hat resting on top of its head.

“You’ve reached the Thousand Sunny, this is Monkey D. Luffy, King of the Pirates speaking. How can I help you?”

Sanji doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that Nami had convinced Luffy he needs to answer the snail appropriately, or that this is the message he’s decided to stick with. Either way, all he can do is shake his head.

Zoro doesn’t bother, though. “Luffy, it’s us,” he says firmly, refusing to be distracted when Luffy lets out an excited whoop. “Is Chopper around? We think Sora’s sick and we want to talk to him.”

And for all his many faults and eccentricities, Luffy snaps into action the second he hears those words. “I think he’s in the library with Robin,” he says, and Sanji can all but picture the serious expression on his face. “I’ll go find him.”

The snail goes quiet then, but there are muffled creaks and groans, like it’s being carried from one place to another. Sanji’s going to assume that Luffy’s decided to take it with him on his hunt for the doctor, and his suspicions are proven correct when he hears the faint sound of a door opening, followed by, “There you are! You need to come talk to Sanji and Zoro.”

Luffy’s voice had been quiet when he’d spoken, like he was holding the speaker - or possibly the entire snail - away from his mouth. When Chopper comes on the line, his voice is much clearer.

“Sanji? Zoro?” He asks. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”

“Not hurt, exactly,” Sanji’s quick to clarify. “But Sora woke up fussy and I think he’s running a fever. There’s a bug going around the restaurant, so he probably picked it up from one of the staff.”

Chopper makes a thoughtful noise. “That’s not good, but it’s also not unusual. Does he have any other symptoms?”

Zoro looks at Sanji for confirmation, who shrugs even though Chopper can’t see him. “Mainly he’s just warm to the touch and cranky, but he also didn’t really want his bottle when I tried to give it to him.”

“Okay, that you need to keep an eye on,” Chopper says firmly. “He could easily get dehydrated if he’s not getting a proper intake of fluids. Do you have a thermometer on hand to confirm your suspicion about a fever?”

“Uh, not in the room, but I’m sure I can track one down,” Sanji tells him.

“Good, do that and then get back to me with the actual temperature.” Chopper says. “At his age we want to be careful about what medicine he gets, but once I have a clearer picture of the situation, I can courier you something to help bring the fever down. In the meantime, keep him in lightweight sleepers so he doesn’t overheat and give him a lukewarm bath if he’ll tolerate it. Keep trying to get some formula in him, and monitor his behaviour so we can track any other symptoms. Does that sound okay?”

Sanji shoots Zoro a helpless look, and the other man looks equally discombobulated. “It sounds like a plan,” Zoro says finally. “Which is more than we had five minutes ago. Thanks, Chopper.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Chopper assures them. “Now, go get me that accurate reading and we’ll go from there.”

Pleased to have a plan of attack, they hang up the receiver and do as they’re told.

*****
Chopper diagnoses Sora with a low grade fever and sends them medicine exactly as he’d promised. It comes with detailed instructions on how to administer it, and he also calls again to check and see if they have any questions.

“Pretty much the only question I have is if it’s normal for him to scream his head off the second either of us is out of his sight.” Zoro had muttered, looking a little wild around the eyes after several rounds of Sora’s sustained crying. “He won’t let the Cook put him down, and freaks out if either of us tries to leave.”

“You’re his parents,” Chopper had reminded them from the other end of the line. “He knows you, loves you, and trusts you. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him right now, and he wants you around to make him feel better.”

“Well when you put it like that.”

They’d hung up the snail not long after that, and retired to Sanji’s room since it’s where Sora’s crib and other belongings are located. Sanji had taken himself off shift under the circumstances, and neither of them had strayed far over the course of the day.

For his part, Sora’s remained largely the same - grumpy, tired, and not inclined to let either of them out of his sight. They do manage to get some fluids and his meds into him, at least, and currently he looks just about ready to finally drift off while Sanji rocks him in the rocking chair.

“You know he’s going to wake up again the second you stop moving right?” Zoro’s words are soft, his voice pitched low when he speaks, and Sanji glances over to find him sitting cross legged on the floor with his back to the side of Sanji’s bed.

“What are you doing down there?” He asks, wondering why the swordsman had chosen such a spot to situate himself. “You’ll be more comfortable actually on the bed.”

“I’m good where I am,” Zoro assures him, shrugging. “It’s not like I haven’t slept in worse places.”

That much is true, Sanji will give him. Over the years he’s seen the other man pass out in more nooks and crevices than he can count, and not once has he ever had difficulty in falling asleep. At this point it seems like an honest to god talent.

“Suit yourself,” he says aloud. “And as for your actual question,” he adds, “yes, I do know that, but he’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want to be put down right now. If me holding him is the difference between him getting some rest and not, I’m going to suck it up and deal.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro allows. He falls silent for a few more minutes, his face working through a complicated series of expressions, before he finally lets out a tired sigh. “Sorry I can’t help more with him,” he says gruffly. “I’d hold him for a bit if he’d let me.”

Lolling his head to the side, Sanji squints down at the other man, trying to parse out the meaning behind his words. “It’s not your fault,” he notes. “Honestly, I’m more surprised than anything by his behaviour. He cuddles with you all the time during the day, so I figured he’d want you more than me.”

Zoro gives him a surprised look, both his eyebrows raised high. “Curls, you do realize this kid adores you, don’t you?” He asks. “He’s constantly looking for you after you hand him over to me in the mornings, and he loses his damn mind whenever he figures out that we’re heading to the kitchen to visit you. I’m not a damn bit surprised that he wants you when he’s feeling off.”

“ … really?” Sanji asks, glancing back at where Sora’s now conked out in his arms, his heart feeling tight in his chest.

“Yes, really,” Zoro says, the word ‘dumbass’ heavily implied if not stated outright. “He’s obsessed with you, and you’re great with him. How do you not know that?”

“If I’m so great with him, I wouldn’t have let him get sick,” Sanji deflects. “Although, I suppose there is one silver lining to this whole mess.”

“And what’s that?” Zoro asks, shifting so that his back isn’t pressed so firmly against the bed frame.

Sanji flashes a grim smile. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life, not once. Even before Judge’s mutations fully kicked in, that aspect of them was already in play. If Sora’s sick now, he didn’t inherit so much as a speck of what was done to me and my siblings. He’s safe.”

Zoro straightens where he’s sitting. “Is that something you’ve been worried about?”

Sanji snorts. “Only every damn day since he first appeared in that cave,” he says roughly, holding Sora a little tighter. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, the one that said I’ve passed this curse onto an innocent baby.”

“Curls,” Zoro exclaims, forcefully enough that Sanji looks up again, coming face to face with his companion’s stricken expression. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have, I don’t know, had Chopper run some tests or something to find out if that was a possibility.”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji hisses, hushing Sora when he stirs. He waits a second to see if the baby is going to wake, and then starts rocking him again.

“Absolutely not,” he repeats, more calmly now. “My earliest memories are of being poked and prodded, cut and jabbed down in Germa’s labs because Judge wanted to find out why his experiments weren’t working and what he could do to fix that. I will never let that happen to him. Is that clear?”

“Of course it is,” Zoro replies, “but that’s not what I’m talking about. Chopper would never hurt him, and you and I would never let anyone near him with ill-intent. All I’m saying is that you could have given yourself a little peace of mind if you’d just told me there was an issue.”

“We’re supposed to be in this together,” he concludes. “And I’m here to help.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, neither of them saying anything as their gazes remain locked. For a second, Sanji thinks that everything else he’s been leaving unsaid might be about to spill out, but he gets ahold of himself at the last second and clamps his mouth shut.

“I know that,” he says when he can trust himself to speak once more. “I just didn’t see a point in burdening you with something you couldn’t fix.”

“You’re not a burden,” Zoro says, “and neither is he. If there’s something going on, you need to let me know.”

“ … okay,” Sanji says weakly, terrified that every emotion he’s ever felt will come pouring out of his chest if he says anything else. “Okay.”

Zoro nods, and Sanji figures that’s the end of things. He’s therefore surprised when the swordsman shuffles across the floor until he’s sitting next to the rocking chair.

“Just so we’re clear,” he says, “I’m staying in here tonight.”

Sanji barely considers this for a moment before he starts nodding. “Of course,” he says simply. “I’m sure he’d like that.”

*****
Once Sora falls asleep that night he largely stays that way. Sanji’s going to assume it’s due to exhaustion brought about from being sick that sees him sleep more than normal, but he himself still passes the night in a fretful state because he’s worried about the baby.

He takes small consolation in the fact that he’s not alone in that. Zoro likewise doesn’t get much sleep, and he refuses to stray far from first the rocking chair and then Sora’s crib, despite a perfectly serviceable bed being available. He posts himself as close to the baby as he can get, keeping a silent vigil like he can somehow scare away the illness.

Sora’s fever hasn’t broken the next day, but it thankfully hasn’t gotten any worse either. He pretty much stays the same as the hours pass, although he seems a little happier after they give him a bath to get the worst of the sweat off of him.

Zeff swings by a couple of times, ostensibly to help out by bringing them meals, but Sanji can easily tell that it’s as much to see Sora for himself. The old chef waves away his apologies for missing another shift, and strokes a gentle thumb over Sora’s flushed cheek.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, shaking his head in dismay. “At least he’s in good hands, I suppose, and I saw that reindeer of yours sent him some meds. Hopefully they fix him right up.”

“Chopper says it could take another day or two before he starts turning a corner,” Sanji murmurs around a yawn. They’d talked to the little doctor only an hour ago, and he’d seemed pleased enough with Sora’s progress that it had settled them both slightly. “We’ll probably be in for another night like last night again, though.”

“Understood,” Zeff replies with a nod. “In that case, I don’t want to see you anywhere near the line tomorrow either. You stay with him where you’re needed most. You and the sack of bones there,” he adds with a nod at Zoro.

The swordsman is currently slumped at the foot of Sanji’s bed, taking a much needed catnap where the lack of sleep has caught up to him. He’s flopped in an ungainly sprawl with his neck bent at an awkward angle, but he’s nevertheless snoring heavily enough for everyone to hear it.

“It truly does take all kinds,” Zeff huffs, shaking his head. “Still, he’s a dedicated father, I’ll give him that much.”

“You shouldn’t sound surprised,” Sanji says absently, his attention returning to Sora as he rocks them both in the chair. “I always knew he would be.”

“Mhm,” Zeff replies, effectively managing to say plenty while technically not saying anything at all. “Well, either way. I’m glad that he’s here and not off shirking his responsibilities somewhere else. However, I’ve got to get back to the kitchen, so just let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Sanji says, waving him off.

Sora dozes for the rest of the afternoon, and then off and on as the day shifts into night. He still doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite, and he’s even less inclined to go down in his crib once the time comes.

“Why don’t you try putting him in your bed,” Zoro suggests after the latest unsuccessful attempt. “You can’t sleep in the rocking chair again, and I should probably get off the floor too.”

“Are you saying you want us to share?” Sanji asks blearily, needing a second or two to parse out what that would look like in his befuddled state.

“I’m saying I think we should share,” Zoro’s quick to correct him. “He doesn’t want to be in the crib and he doesn’t want either of us to leave him, but last night’s arrangements weren’t exactly stellar if you know what I mean.”

“You are … maybe not entirely wrong,” Sanji admits after taking a moment to process this. “So we do it like the first night we had him? Back on the island?”

“Exactly,” Zoro says, clearly pleased that Sanji’s getting with the picture. “How’s that sound?”

Like torture, Sanji thinks but doesn’t say aloud. In actuality what it sounds like is the best option for Sora, and there’s no way he’s putting his own wishes above that of his kid’s.

“Let’s do it.” He says, which is how he finds himself a little while later, lying with his back to the wall and staring across at Zoro, with Sora resting between them.

Neither of them says anything for a long time, each seemingly content to watch the baby snuffle in his sleep, when suddenly Zoro stirs.

“Do you remember that time when Nami got sick?” He asks apropos of nothing. “From the bug bite she got on Little Garden?”

“How could I forget?” Sanji replies with a shudder that’s only barely for show. “That was terrible.”

“It was,” Zoro agrees, his head resting on one hand while the other comes to fan out across Sora’s chest, rising and falling as he breathes. “But then we found Chopper right after that, and, even though people still got hurt and sick, he had stuff under control, you know?”

“I do,” Sanji agrees, wondering where this is going. “ … so?” He prompts when Zoro falls silent, rather than continuing on with his train of thought.

Zoro makes a face. “So I thought watching Nami be sick would be the most worried I’d ever be about another person,” he murmurs, lowering himself to the mattress so that he can get even closer to Sora. “Turns out I was wrong.”

Sanji’s pretty sure he temporarily stops breathing. “Marimo,” he wheezes, roughly eighteen different emotions clogging his throat. “You can’t just say things like that. Warn a man, why don’t you?”

“Hmm?” Zoro replies, the bulk of his attention still focused on Sora. “What are you talking about?”

“I - You - Argh, nevermind,” Sanji finally settles on. “Just know that you’re on notice for inflicting severe emotional damage on me when I’m already in a vulnerable state.”

“Sorry,” Zoro says, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

Sanji watches them, him and Sora both for a moment, feeling his chest tighten at the sight they make. He doesn’t think he’d ever realized what Zoro looks like when he loves someone before, but he’s definitely getting a closeup view of it now.

“He’s going to be fine,” he hears himself say, curling his own thumb and forefinger around one of Sora’s impossibly tiny fists. “You heard Chopper. There’s - there’s nothing to be overly concerned about right now, so there’s no reason he shouldn’t make a full recovery.”

“I know that,” Zoro insists, his eye still locked firmly on the sleeping baby. “But he’s miserable right now, and there’s nothing we can do but wait for it to pass. I’m not used to having an enemy I can’t fight, and I definitely don’t like it.”

“Yeah,” Sanji says because he really can’t argue with that point. “It’s the same for me. I guess all we can do is just … be here for him. Hopefully it’s enough.”

He sees the corner of Zoro’s mouth tick up in a rueful smile. “It probably doesn’t help that we’ve only got one parent between the two of us, huh? I don’t have a clue what mine did when I got sick.”

Sanji blinks, unsure as to whether or not he’s ever heard Zoro mention his family before. “Do you not remember them at all?” He asks, receiving a stilted shrug in response.

“I’ve got a couple flashes of my mom,” Zoro says eventually. “And nothing of my dad. I guess he was gone too soon for anything to stick.”

“What happened to him?”

“Pirates,” Zoro replies. “The kind that believed in taking lives as much as treasure.”

“I’m sorry,” Sanji says. “That must have been hard.”

Zoro shrugs again. “Like I said, I don’t remember it. The only reason I know what happened is because some adults in my village told me when I was older.”

“He died defending his family,” he adds, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “A long time ago, back when I was really young and on my own, I used to be mad at him for that because it was part of the reason I didn’t have anyone. Now though? Fuck, I get it. If it was a choice between Sora or me, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Well I knew that,” Sanji says, his words causing Zoro to look at him in surprise. “Moss, you’ve been sacrificing yourself for your loved ones since the day I met you. Of course you’d do it if Sora was in trouble. So would I. The only difference now is, while we unfortunately can’t fight a cold, we’re a pair of badasses who can take down anyone who threatens him.”

Zoro cracks a smile at that. “A pair of badasses, huh?” He repeats, his grin broadening when Sanji rolls his eyes. “Cook, I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sanji grumbles. “You’re still an idiot and I’m still stronger than you.”

“It’s not nice to lie in front of the baby.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, Marimo.”

*****
Sora’s meds finally start having an effect the next day, and his fever breaks around lunchtime. His mood drastically improves over the course of the following few days, and by the end of the week it’s like he’d never been sick at all. He’s back to being his usual, happy self and the pall that’s fallen over the Baratie lifts with his mood.

Most of the staff look at Sanji in blatant relief when he returns to work, but that’s nothing compared to when Zoro carts Sora into the kitchen later that afternoon. The baby is hailed like a conquering hero and all work grinds to a halt as people abandon their stations to come see him.

Sora babbles away as he’s passed around, tolerating the likes of Patty and Carne, and screaming with delight when Zeff gets his hands on him. It’s Sanji he’s the most happy to see, though, and he makes an indignant noise when the blond has to hand him off to get back to work.

“Yeah, I know, I’m second best,” Zoro laughs, enfolding Sora in his arms as the baby continues to grumble. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Marimo, don’t talk like that,” Sanji says, sharply enough that Zoro quirks an eyebrow at him. “He loves you, and you shouldn’t pretend otherwise.”

Zoro just snorts at him. “I know he does, Curls. I was only kidding.”

Sanji gives him a long look before returning to his station, resolving to keep an eye on that particular situation.

Zoro and Sora stick around for a little while, only to come back again the next day and the next. At that point it’s obvious that the baby is fully recovered, and things settle back into their normal routine.

However, life on a floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean, especially one run by infamous pirates, is only ever going to be anything but ordinary. A few more weeks crawl by where nothing of note happens, and the next thing Sanji knows he’s in the middle of meal prep when one of the waitstaff comes bursting in, his sides heaving thanks to how hard he’d been running.

The kid looks around the room, his eyes darting frantically from person to person, until they find their intended target. “Chef Zeff!” He barks, loud enough that several of the cooks stiffen in surprise. “We’ve got marines, and they say they’re here for you!”

Looking supremely unimpressed, Zeff turns from where he’s been busy making faces at Sora (an act that he will no doubt deny later), and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that so?” He asks flatly. “And what, pray tell, do the marines want with me?”

“Their commander says he’s here to collect on your old bounty,” the kid says, his words causing a stir to run throughout the kitchen. “He says that technically you’re still a wanted man, and that bringing you in might - might - ”

The young waiter falters in the face of Zeff’s expression, and swallows heavily. However, Zeff’s having none of that.

“It might?” He prods, emphasizing with a stomp of his pegleg that the kid should finish his sentence.

“ … might cause your son to willingly surrender himself, which would be the safest way to bring him in.”

“Ah.” Zeff says icily. “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” he adds, beginning to untie his apron strings with pointed movements. “It appears I need to go have a word with our newest guests.”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji interrupts, stepping away from his own station before Zeff can get too far. “And that goes for the rest of you,” he continues, holding up a hand to keep the rest of the cooks from bolting for the exit. “If there’s a marine out there who’s dumb enough to come after me, then I’m all too happy to oblige.”

“He’s not looking to fight you, I heard him,” the young waiter says. “He thinks you’re still with Strawhat and that he can draw you out by capturing the Head Chef.”

“Well then he’s about to be in for a surprise. Or two.” Sanji notes, twisting to look behind him. “What do you think, Marimo? Want to leave Sora with the old man for a bit and we’ll go serve up a two for one special for these idiots?”

Zoro, shockingly, doesn’t immediately agree. Instead, he tightens his grip on Sora and glances at the waiter. “How many marines are we talking about here? And how strong?”

The waiter grunts. “There’s a lot of them,” he admits, “but I think they’d have a hard time taking the Baratie on a good day. They won’t have a hope in hell of beating you two.”

“Alright.” That seems to be enough to get Zoro moving because he stands and offers Sora to Zeff, who takes him reluctantly. “Keep an eye on him while we’re gone. Don't let anybody else watch him.”

Zeff makes a face, but nevertheless takes the baby - who in turn is starting to look disgruntled, like he knows something is wrong.

“Easy, little man,” Zeff murmurs, bouncing Sora gently. “Your idiot parents are just going to go deal with a slight imposition and then everything will be right as rain again. Don’t you worry.”

“What your Grandpa said,” Zoro agrees, ducking down to chuck Sora lightly under the chin. “This won’t take long, buddy. You’ll see.”

Sora still doesn’t look very happy, and his face screws up angrily when Sanji steps in to look at him.

“Just wait here, baby,” Sanji promises, brushing a kiss over the top of Sora’s head. “We’ll have those stupid marines running with their tails between their legs before it’s time for your next bottle. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Sora can’t understand him, of course, but he feels a little better as he steps away with a nod in Zeff’s direction and a promise to be back soon. Then he grabs for Zoro and marches out of the kitchen.

*****
Sanji can see several marine ships floating outside the Baratie when he steps into the dining room. The large windows result in the vessels being clearly visible, and he scowls when he sees looks of alarm gracing most of the customer’s faces.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He calls, speaking loudly enough that he can be heard above the rising din of the murmuring crowd. “I’m terribly sorry for the unexpected interruption of your meal, and can assure you that the Baratie will compensate you for your troubles. In the meantime, however, I’d like to ask that everyone remain indoors, while I and my companion here deal with the problem.”

Rather than decrease the chatter of the crowd, his words only serve to increase it. Many of the guests seem to have been aware that he was cooking behind the scenes, but Zoro’s presence is now causing quite a stir.

“Are you going to send them all packing, Chef?” A particularly cheeky guest calls out, and Sanji flashes the man a grin.

“Unless they decide to quickly change their behaviour, I am.” Sanji assures him, his words causing the crowd to finally start to settle. “From what I understand the marines weren’t expecting me to be here today, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t get to have a little fun. And the same again goes for my friend here.”

“Oh shit,” someone mutters.

“Those poor bastards,” says another.

“Fuckin’ dinner and a show,” chimes in a third.

“Indeed,” Sanji says with a tightlipped smile. “Now, come along, Mossy. We’ve got people waiting on us.”

“I think they’re going to have to wait a little longer for me,” Zoro says, drawing to a halt by the doors. “I kinda want to see the looks on their faces when they think they’re in enough trouble dealing with you, and then they find me too.”

Some of the guests openly guffaw at this, and Sanji has to admit to feeling a sick sense of satisfaction at the idea. The marines out there had arrived with the despicable plan of threatening his elderly father, which in turn has put his infant son at risk. He therefore intends to handle them with extreme prejudice.

“Have it your way,” he says as hauls open the doors. “But don’t complain if I’ve dealt with them all by the time you bother to drag your lazy ass outside.”

If Zoro has anything to say to that, Sanji doesn’t hear him. Stepping out onto the deck, he moves away from the main restaurant, and saunters towards what he suspects is the flagship of whichever idiot has decided to invade his home. Unimpressed, he pulls a cigarette free from his pocket and lights it since there’s no one of consequence around to complain.

Several marine grunts are already milling about the deck, many of them with their hands on sabers and rifles, looking ill at ease while they wait for the action to start. Sanji eyes them carefully for a few seconds, but dismisses them just as quickly when it becomes obvious that they don’t pose a threat to him.

They are capable of sounding the alarm, however, and he winks at the first man who’s stupid enough to make eye contact. The man - more of a boy, really - gapes like he can’t believe what he’s seeing, and then turns to yell for his superiors.

“Captain!” He shrieks. “We’ve got trouble!”

“Hmm,” Sanji muses, taking a heavy drag from his cigarette. “Based on that reaction I’m going to guess that my reputation has preceded me. How flattering.”

The sound of running feet can be heard echoing along the deck, and Sanji continues smoking idly as dozens more marines come darting into view. He’s also pretty sure that a number of them are leveling weapons at him from their own ships, and scowls at the thought of the damage any missed shots might do to the Baratie.

“For the record,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I’m going to be extremely annoyed if any of you clowns hurts my ship.”

“This is a criminal establishment run by pirates,” a new voice snaps, the words dripping with derision. “Any collateral damage will be strictly a result of your chosen enterprise, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Sanji looks up at this. A new face has arrived to match the new voice, and he allows himself a moment to size up the interloper. Tall, broad shouldered, and with the kind of good looks that would do well on a recruiting poster, he can’t help but think that the marine looks a little young for his rank and wonders if he’s dealing with a recently promoted newbie who’s trying to make a name for himself.

It’s possible, he decides, even likely, but also irrelevant in the long run. Regardless of his motivations, the man has brought a fight to his doorstep, and Sanji’s not about to take that lying down.

“And you are?” He asks coolly, eyeing the commander with disdain.

The man bristles in a way that makes Sanji suspect his theory is probably correct. “My name is none of your concern,” he hisses, “but I know who you are, Blackleg.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Sanji says around another drag. “I mean, my name’s on the door for crying out loud. I’d honestly be a little concerned if you couldn’t figure out who the place belonged to.”

The marine snarls. “You think you’re funny, do you?” He demands, his upper lip curling as he glares at Sanji. “I bet you’ll be singing a different tune after we’ve burnt this place to ashes and put you and all your staff in chains.”

Sanji narrows his eyes at this. “That’s an awful nasty threat,” he says, flicking a bit of ash from his cigarette. “And I think it might have a touch of false bravado to it. After all, from what I’ve been told, you didn’t actually come here for me. Rather, you’re after a seventy-six year old man with a bad leg to try and force me into surrendering peacefully. Makes you sound like a real tough guy, doesn’t it?”

Rightly or wrongly, the marine doesn’t bother denying the accusation. Instead, he just shrugs. “It was a practical way to try and bring you in,” he says, “but I’m no coward either. If you’re here, my men and I will simply take you in by force.”

Tossing the remains of his cigarette, Sanji spreads his arms wide in invitation and grins. “You’re welcome to try,” he says, unsurprised when the commander charges forward with a yell.

Dozens of marines charge with him, and shots ring out from the ships. Distantly, Sanji hears the sound of a window breaking thanks to a bullet going astray, and he curses under his breath at the damage.

Dodging a swipe from the commander’s sabre, Sanji spins on his heel and sends three separate marines sprawling with precision kicks. They land directly in their boss’ path, and Sanji uses the momentary confusion to turn around and bellow towards the restaurant.

“Get your damn ass out here, and make yourself useful! I want these bastards to pay for shooting at my ship!”

Having righted himself in the interval, the commander points his blade at Sanji and smirks. “Not so tough now, are you?” He jeers. “Not if you’re already calling for help, anyway.”

“I’m calling for damage control, you moron,” Sanji hisses. “I just don’t want you and the rest of these idiots fucking up my ship while I’m busy dealing with you.”

“We’ll see about that,” the commander retorts, at which point he charges again.

There are so many marines that what happens next is a blur. Sanji rains down blows on everyone who gets near him, bones cracking and skin singing under his heels as he calls on his diable jambe. Screams ring out from the injured marines, and someone has the nerve to start opening fire with their canons.

“Oh fucking hell no!” Sanji shrieks, glaring at a spray of water that fountains upwards when a cannonball lands off the side of the ship. “Mosshead! Fucking deal with that! Now!”

His words cause a number of marines to look at him in confusion, but those looks soon turn to ones of horror when boots can be heard pounding across one of the upper decks and a shadow launches itself onto the nearest marine ship.

Blades flash, rigging falls, and dozens of men scream as Zoro races along the prow of the first ship, only to leap onto the next closest once he’s satisfied he’s disabled it sufficiently. At that point, Sanji loses sight of him, but the terrified bleats of the marines give him a good idea of how things are progressing.

Back on the Baratie, the marine commander is gaping in the direction Zoro had vanished. Blood drips from a cut above his eye, and the side of his face is scorched thanks to an earlier flaming kick, but his attention is zeroed in on his ships.

“Was that the motherfucking Demon of the East Blue?!” He demands, his eyes widening as it presumably dawns on him just how badly he’s fucked up this afternoon. “What’s he doing here?! He’s supposed to be with Strawhat!”

“So am I according to your intel,” Sanji reminds him, kicking a man overboard when he tries to attack him from behind. “I guess today’s not your day, huh?”

The marine scowls at this. Brandishing his saber with intent, he focuses back on Sanji. “My men are strong,” he vows, “and there’s enough of us to give you a fight. You’re going to end today either dead or in chains.”

Sanji rolls his eyes.

*****
Three of the marine ships wind up sinking due to the damage inflicted on them, while the rest limp away as fast as their united crew can get them too. The last Sanji sees of the marine commander, his unconscious form is being carried aboard one of the surviving ships by his underlings, and no one seems inclined to hang around and continue the fight.

For his part, Sanji bids them good riddance and glares at the damage that the Baratie has taken. Luckily it appears to be all superficial, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating.

Zoro reappears not long after the fight has ended. His swords are back in their sheathes, and he’s in the process of reattaching his bandana around his arm when he catches sight of Sanji.

“You good, Curls?” He asks, the words muffled due to the fact that he has one end of the bandana clamped between his teeth, while he tries to tug it closed with his free hand.

“I’m fine, you oaf,” Sanji says, shaking his head and striding over to the other man. “Here, you’re making a mess of that. Let me fix it.”

“I got it,” Zoro tries, the sounds nearly incomprehensible now that he’s still got the cloth in his mouth while actively trying to dodge Sanji. “Damnit, Curls! Lemme ‘lone!”

“No.” Sanji says, refusing to humor him. He grabs the trailing end of the bandana and yanks it out of Zoro’s mouth. “Gross,” he says, eyeing the damp part with distaste. “You’re lucky that I’ve gained a higher tolerance for bodily fluids in recent months.”

“I don’t need your help,” Zoro protests, but Sanji ignores him in favor of looping the bandana around his arm and beginning to secure it in place. “What’s with you?”

“I’m a firm believer in the idea that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” Sanji tells him, giving the bandana a pat once he’s satisfied with the arrangement. “There. All good.”

“Great,” Zoro says sarcastically. “Can we go back inside now? I want to check on Sora.”

Since he can hardly argue with the plan, Sanji nods and motions for the other man to step into place behind him. He then picks his way carefully across the deck, noting which spots are in need of repair.

“We’re probably going to have to go on an early supply run,” he grumbles, annoyed by the very idea. “I doubt we have enough wood in storage to fix all this.”

“At least it’s just the ship and not the people,” Zoro says philosophically. “None of the shots that hit landed near where the staff or guests were located.”

“There is that,” Sanji allows, pulling open the main doors and walking inside. He promptly finds that the dining room is largely under control, with a number of the waiters having already returned to their duties and helping put people’s minds at ease.

Sanji makes a mental note to find some way to show his appreciation to the men he has working for him, but also decides to table that issue for the time being. His feet carry him quickly over to the kitchen, but, when he ducks inside, he’s not immediately greeted by the sight of his baby.

“Where - ?” He starts to demand, but Patty’s already on it.

“Your old man took him into his office,” he says before Sanji has a chance to get another word out. “They’re keeping out of the way back there.”

Next to him, Carne whacks their other longest tenured chef over the head with a spatula. “Idiot, if Chef Zeff hears you implying that he gets in the way, he’ll drown your ass in the All Blue.”

Ignoring them, Sanji strides through the chaos that is the Baratie’s kitchen with Zoro following close on his heels. He can already hear Sora as he reaches the office area, and the baby does not sound happy.

“Alright, alright,” Zeff is saying as Sanji yanks open the door and is greeted with the sight of his father trying to console his sobbing son. “I know you didn’t like all the noise, but there’s no need to fuss. You’re safe here.”

“He’s fine,” Zeff says preemptively, uttering the words the second he spots them. “Just a little spooked by the cannonfire.”

“We should have killed them all,” Sanji growls, holding out his arms in an obvious demand. “Give him to me, right this second.”

“Easy there, Eggplant,” Zeff says, even as he hands the baby over without a fight. “Don’t go getting too worked up where he can see. That won’t help anything.”

“I’m fine,” Sanji insists, tucking Sora up against his chest the second he has a hold of him. “And so are you, Darling. I promise. There’s nothing to be scared of. Daddy and I took care of those nasty marines, and everything is fine now.”

Sora hiccups wetly into the collar of Sanji’s shirt, his face crumpling as he continues crying.

“Oh, Darling, shh. Shh. It’s alright,” Sanji tells him, rubbing a hand over his back while he holds him close with the other. “You’re perfectly safe, and you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Sora’s sobs suggest that he doesn’t agree, and Zeff sidles quickly out of the way so that Zoro can have space to approach. “I’ll leave you three alone for the time being,” the old chef says. “Eggplant, feel free to take the rest of the day off if he won’t settle. Poor little thing will probably want to keep you both close.”

Sanji thinks he might mutter an absent ‘thanks’ over his shoulder, but most of his attention is focused on Sora and the way he sounds absolutely miserable. “Poor baby,” he croons, rocking him gently. “You got a bad scare, didn’t you?”

A plaintive wail seems to say that, yes, that was indeed the case, but Sora calms slightly when Zoro joins them to curve a hand over the back of his head.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Zoro assures him. “Blondie’s right. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Something tells me he’s not buying what we’re selling,” Sanji mutters, his jaw clenching in the face of Sora’s palpable distress. “He’s never heard cannons before. It must have been terrifying.”

“D’you want to take him upstairs to your room?” Zoro asks. “That’s basically his space, so he might feel more comfortable up there.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Sanji allows. “I assume you’re coming with?”

“Obviously.”

Pleased but trying not to show it, Sanji adjusts his hold on Sora to make him easier to carry. They then proceed to make the trek up to the top deck, leaving behind instructions for the staff to start doing what cleanup they can.

Normally Sanji would feel a little bad about delegating like that, almost as if he were shirking his responsibilities to the restaurant. Today, however, he has different priorities.

Contrary to their intentions, Sora does not calm down at the sight of his room. Even when Sanji drops down into the rocking chair with him - something that normally he loves - he keeps right on screaming, voicing his distress for all to hear.

“Maybe we should try and give him a bottle?” Sanji suggests, wracking his brain for possible ideas.

Rather than having taken a seat, Zoro’s currently doing his best to pace a hole in the floor, stalking back and forth across the room like a caged tiger. He pauses briefly at that suggestion, but quickly shakes his head.

“He had an entire bottle right before the marines showed up,” he reminds Sanji. “There’s no way he’s hungry yet.”

That’s true, Sanji acknowledges. For all the fight had been loud and dramatic, it had also been mercifully short. Less than an hour had passed since they’d gone out to challenge the interlopers, meaning a bottle won’t help at this point.

“I don’t know how to make him understand that everything’s alright,” he says fretfully. “Maybe grab one of his soothers from the nightstand there. All the ones in the dish are clean.”

Doing as asked, Zoro shifts over to root around in the dish in question and tosses one over. Sora spits it out almost immediately, however, and his crying gets even more pronounced.

“Okay, scratch that,” Sanji groans. “Have you got any bright ideas on your end?”

Zoro … makes a face. “There’s … maybe something,” he says stiltedly, patches of colour suddenly standing out high on his cheeks. “But I’ll kick your ass if you laugh.”

“Cactus brains, if you can come up with something that’s going to make this baby calm down and feel better, I’m all ears,” Sanji says, his tone just this side of scathing. “No mockery required. Let me hear it.”

“Yeah,” Zoro says with a pained face. “That’s kind of the whole idea. Give him here.”

That instruction sees Sanji instinctively tighten his hold on Sora. Then he realizes how stupid he’s being, and relinquishes his grip when Zoro leans down to take Sora.

“I know, buddy, I know,” Zoro says when Sora flails and screams louder. “Let’s just try this, okay? We both know you like it when I do this.”

And with that, Zoro starts to hum. It starts low, pitched in a quiet croon that Sora doesn’t initially seem to register, but then he adds in words, sung in a language Sanji doesn’t recognize, yet that gradually sees Sora start to settle.

The first song ends before Sora’s completely calmed, but Zoro switches easily to another, still in that same foreign tongue. He’s good too, maybe not quite at Brook’s level, but with enough natural talent to soothe the untrained ear.

For his part, Sanji sits transfixed in the rocking chair, wondering who this apparent stranger in his home is. He’s never seen Zoro like this, or heard for that matter, and it’s a side of the other man that sees him halfway to melting onto the floor in a puddle of adoration.

It takes a few more songs for Sora to calm completely, but when he does he’s not just relaxed, he’s fully asleep in Zoro’s arms, conked out like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Only then does Zoro stop, and trail off whatever lullaby he’d still been singing.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment, each of them seemingly content to bask in the ensuing silence, but there’s no way Sanji can let this pass unremarked. Clearing his throat carefully, so as not to wake Sora, he pierces Zoro with a look.

“Where - where did you learn to do that?” He asks, still trying to process what he’s just borne witness to.

Zoro shrugs, his cheeks flushed red. “It’s not something I learned, exactly,” he mumbles. “I just know a lot of people sing to babies when they’re fussy, and those are the only ones I know. I do it when it’s just the two of us sometimes and he won’t go down for a nap.”

Sanji needs a moment to brace himself against that image. “That’s how you knew it might work?” He guesses once he’s gotten a hold of himself. “Because you’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, but,” Zoro gives him a glare that would be a lot more effective if he wasn’t holding an infant while making it, “if you tell anyone about this, I’ll drown you in a stew pot.”

“I’m not going to make fun!” Sanji insists, possibly a little too loudly given the way that Sora briefly stirs. He waits to see if the baby’s going to wake for real before hissing at a much lower volume, “I wouldn’t do that when it’s something for Sora.”

“You absolutely would,” Zoro grumbles. “But fine, I’ll take your word for it. At least it worked, I guess. Now we just have to hope that he’s forgotten about being spooked when he wakes up again.”

“Right,” Sanji says. “Are you sticking around for now then?”

The look Zoro gives him speaks volumes.

*****
“What language were you singing in?”

The question has been plaguing Sanji all afternoon, and he eventually reaches a boiling point where he can’t hold it in any longer. Hence why he blurts it out while they’re both lying on his bed with Sora between them.

Sora’s been awake for a bit now, and seems no worse for wear after the day’s events. Recently fed and dressed in a fresh sleeper, he’s busy grabbing for the rattle that Zoro’s shaking just outside of his reach - a present from Patty and Carne following a recent supply run - and making grumbling noises when he can’t get it.

“Hmm?” Zoro asks, clearly only half listening to him. “What was that?”

Distracted by the sight of the World’s Greatest Swordsman wielding a child’s toy to entertain their baby, Sanji needs a moment to regroup. Once he’s gathered his thoughts, though, he repeats his question. “I asked what language you were singing to him in earlier. I didn’t recognize it.”

“Oh.” Lowering the rattle slightly, Zoro lets Sora grab for it, but likewise maintains his own grip because the baby doesn’t quite have the dexterity to hold it on his own yet.

“It was just some stuff I used to hear people sing to their kids back in Shimotsuki,” he says finally. “I don’t know what the words mean, but I guess technically the language would be whatever they speak in Wano.”

“Wano?” Sanji echoes, confused. “Why would people from an island in the East Blue be speaking a language from there?”

Zoro looks up at that, his brow furrowing like Sanji’s the one who’s not making any sense. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you?” He asks after Sanji just keeps staring at him blankly. “Shimotsuki was settled by escapees from Wano. Or at least a mix of them and some locals from the East.”

“Seriously?” Sanji asks. “How did you figure that out?”

Zoro shrugs. “There were a couple of different clues - like my swords all having Wano origins, and my village being named after a formally prominent family. I didn’t put it all together until I was fighting King, though, and it was years after that I found out my own family was from there.”

“They were?”

“Yeah,” Zoro nods. “Or well, my grandmother was one of the escapees. I don’t remember her anymore than I do my parents, but I’ve been back to Wano a couple of times over the years and I might have … brought it up with Hiyori.”

If he lives to be a thousand, Sanji will never understand the relationship Zoro has with the Kozuki heiress, and today’s not the day for him to try. Not when he has more pressing questions at hand. “Was she able to provide you with some information?”

“Her and the Scabbards,” Zoro admits stiltedly. “There were twenty five people who left Wano when my grandmother did. It wasn’t hard to match her with the only Furiko on the list, and, well, most of them knew her.”

“She was a Shimotsuki too,” he clarifies when Sanji’s eyes go wide. “But from Ringo instead of Hakumai like Yasuie. Her older brother was the daimyo in the area when Oden fell. He was killed by Kaido in an attempted jailbreak.”

“You’re joking,” Sanji says flatly. “Zoro, that’s - the daimyo families, they’re Wano royalty. Or nobility anyway. You’re - you’re - ”

“A come from nothing orphan out of the East Blue who fought all on my own to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman,” Zoro says firmly. “And that’s it. I don’t want anything to do with any of that bloodlines crap, and this is why I don’t talk about this shit. Hiyori tried to make a big deal about it too.”

“Of course she did,” Sanji agrees. Having been born into a royal dynasty himself, even an unwanted one, he knows full well how they work. “You’re - did any other members of the family survive?” He wonders, and when Zoro reluctantly shakes his head, he whistles. “Marimo, you’re the sole heir to one of the most famous families in Wano. I’m surprised they didn’t stick a daimyo title on you and be done with it.”

“They tried,” Zoro mutters, his annoyance plain. “And that old swordsmith - Hitetsu - even took it a step further by suggesting Hiyori and I get hitched. He was going on about how together we could make sure both ruling clans continued and yadda yadda yadda. I threatened to feed him the business end of Enma, and that shut him up pretty quick.”

“Moss,” Sanji says despairingly, even though part of him is swelling with relief at the thought of Zoro turning Hiyori down. “You’re lucky someone didn’t execute you for treason.”

“Hiyori didn’t take it personally,” Zoro replies, unconcerned. “She knows I don’t see her that way, and she wasn’t about to try and tie me down.”

“Now,” Sanji clarifies because back in the day Hiyori had been anything but subtle when it came to her affections for Zoro. “There was a time when she’d have gleefully staked a claim if you’d let her.”

Zoro smirks at him. “You jealous, Cook?” He asks, his words saccharine sweet.

Sanji flicks him in the forehead with his fingers, an act that Sora apparently finds hilarious if his resulting giggle is anything to go by. “I am not jealous of Hiyori having had a crush on you,” he says firmly, a statement that even happens to be true. “I’m simply concerned about her poor taste.”

Zoro gives him a dirty look as he rubs his forehead, but doesn’t seem inclined to escalate matters. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Mhm,” Sanji replies, but it’s a halfhearted sound thanks to the way something more important has just occurred to him. “Do you realize that we’ve both now revoked high scale lineage in favour of living like everyday people?”

“So, what of it?” Zoro wants to know. “It’s not a big deal.

Ignoring his tone, Sanji shakes his head. “Maybe not to us,” he admits. “But you don’t have any other living relatives, and none of my siblings have children.”

Zoro gives him a funny look. “I repeat, so what?”

“So,” Sanji says, snatching the rattle out of his hand and using it to snag Sora’s attention. “That means that, for now anyway, you are looking at the rightful heir to the throne of Germa and the Ringo district of Wano. Roronoa Sora.”

Zoro blanches. “That’s a shitty joke, Curls.”

“Who’s joking?” Sanji asks grimly. “It’s the truth.”

“Okay, fine,” Zoro admits after taking a moment to think it over. “In a way I guess you’re right, but no one in Wano would ever try to force anything on him, and Judge … ”

“Might think twice if none of my siblings ever reproduce,” Sanji says flatly. “Especially if he ever learns about your ties to Wano. I was already adamant about him never finding out Sora exists, but this just seals it. He can’t know. Ever.”

“Well I’m not gonna tell him,” Zoro retorts. “It’s not exactly like we’re on speaking terms. Still, him never finding out is probably wishful thinking on our part. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I are kind of famous.”

“Ugh, that’s true,” Sanji groans, dropping the rattle and fisting his hand in his hair. “Damnit! This is just one more thing to worry about.”

“Hey, calm down,” Zoro insists. Lifting his own hand, he uses it to tug Sanji’s fingers free from his hair and then smoothes down the disturbed strands. “Don’t do that thing you do where you start borrowing trouble. We can keep Sora safe. We proved that today.”

Having gone stiff at the other man’s touch, Sanji glances down at Sora, who stares solemnly back at him. His blue eyes are calm, trusting, and it’s that more than anything that allows Sanji to breathe again.

“You’re right,” he says softly. “Germa has nothing on us, and if it meant keeping Sora safe, I’d do what needed to be done where Judge is concerned.”

“Of course you would,” Zoro agrees, like he’d never had any doubt. “You wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Just like you wouldn’t,” Sanji knows. “Although, god I hate the thought of how many people could be gunning for him someday. Even with as strong as we are and the allies we have in our corner, it could be a lot.”

“And we’ll kill their asses with vigor,” Zoro declares, causing Sanji to snort out a laugh.

“After which we come back here and make sure he’s okay, right?” He asks, to which Zoro nods. “Fair enough. I guess I can think of worse ways for that to go.”

They both lapse into silence after that, but it’s not long before another thought occurs to Sanji, and, once again, his brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t seem to be working at full capacity today. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Zoro jerks like he’s been slapped, the motion harsh enough that it jostles the mattress and sees Sora let out an indignant squawk. After taking a second to hush him, Zoro then looks up at Sanji with a wide eye.

“I meant so that you know Sora’s okay,” Sanji says preemptively, rushing to get the words out so that Zoro doesn’t mistakenly read anything more into the suggestion. “He slept better having us both around when he was sick, so this could be more of the same.”

“I mean,” Zoro glances down at Sora, who’s busy gumming his own fingers. “He seems fine to me, but if you’re offering, I’m not going to say no. I’d stay with him every night if I could.”

“Not that I’m trying to step on your toes,” he’s quick to add, looking away before Sanji has a chance to decipher whatever emotion is on his face. “I know you don’t get to see him much during the day, so it’s only fair that you get him at night. I get it.”

“ … I figured you’d appreciate the break and a chance to get some sleep,” Sanji says weakly. “I thought I was helping you as much as I was getting to spend time with him.”

Zoro shrugs, but doesn’t say anything further.

“Right,” Sanji says, still floundering. “Well. Stay tonight, and, if you want to stick around longer, we’ll just have to figure something out I guess. We’ve managed everything that’s come at us so far. I’m sure we can do the same here.”

*****
Three months later Zoro is still sharing his bed, and Sanji is going none too subtly insane. Every morning he wakes up to the sight of Zoro either sound asleep across from him or up fussing over Sora because the baby has woken before either of them. It’s enough to give a man an ulcer.

At the same time, Sanji’s resigned himself to the fact that Zoro was telling the truth on the evening of the marine attack. He genuinely does want to be involved in Sora’s care during the nights, and having him pitch in is significantly improving Sanji’s own sleep schedule.

It’s also potentially improving Sora’s. Maybe it’s just because he’s past the six month mark now and is genuinely sleeping for longer periods of time, but ever since Zoro’s been staying with them at night, he’s back to only waking up once or twice, as opposed to half a dozen times.

“You’re plotting against me, I can feel it.” Sanji tells him on a rare morning where Zoro’s the last of them to wake up. Cognizant of the man asleep next to him, Sanji had gotten up to feed and change Sora, and is simultaneously giving him a piece of his mind.

“This is some grand scheme of yours, I can tell,” he says, tickling Sora’s belly with his free hand while he cradles him with the other. “You’re manipulating us into both keeping you company, aren’t you?”

Sora’s resulting shriek drags Zoro back to the land of the living, which in turn puts an end to the conversation.

“‘Re you heading to the kitchen soon?” Zoro asks around a yawn. He sits up so that the blankets pool around his waist, and rubs the sleep out of his good eye before turning back to Sanji and Sora. “It’s got to be about that time, yeah?”

“Yes,” Sanji confirms, shifting Sora so that he’s resting higher in his arms. “Do you want to take him now, or should I put him back in his crib while you wake up a bit more?”

In answer, Zoro holds out his arms.

“Hey, buddy,” he mumbles after Sora’s been deposited into them. “How’d you sleep?”

“I only heard him the once,” Sanji says from where he’s now reaching for his chef’s whites. “He’s turning into a pretty good little sleeper - a trait I can only imagine who he inherited from.”

Zoro smirks at him from over the top of Sora’s head. “Better he sleeps like me than like you, what with all your damn kicking at every hour of the night.”

“If I kicked you, I’m sure you deserved it,” Sanji says primly. “Either way, have you two got any plans for the day, or are you just going to be lazing about like usual?”

“Oi, we’re not lazy,” Zoro huffs. “I train, he watches me, and we go from there. Plus, he’s learning new things too.”

That much Sanji’s well aware of. Sora’s recently taught himself to roll over, and he’s getting better and better at holding his head up. Chopper, Robin, and Usopp all insist that he’s still a few months away from crawling, but it’s coming sooner rather than later.

“We’re going to need to figure out a way to gate off this entire damn ship,” Sanji mutters, already dreading the task. “Also, I want to start trying him on solid foods. I’ve got some recipes for things like applesauce to start him out with, but we should maybe consider a supply run to one of the bigger islands for more variety.”

Zoro cocks his head to the side, the action making his bedhead stick up hilariously. “D’you mean ‘we’ as in you and me, or as in some of the staff?”

Sanji shrugs. “You don’t have to come with me if you’re not interested, but I’m not having anyone but me pick what foods he’s going to eat. I can get someone else to come with me if you like, or we can leave Sora with Zeff and you can come along to play packmule like the good old days.”

“Oh I see how it is,” Zoro says. “You’re planning to put me to work. Lucky for you, I could use a bit of time on dry land. It’ll be weird to be away from the little guy, though.”

“Weird, yes, but probably not a bad thing, either,” Sanji replies. “Chopper keeps telling me that we have to take time for ourselves too.”

“Chopper doesn’t have a six month old.”

“No, no he does not,” Sanji agrees, “but I still think leaving him behind is a good idea. There’s always a good chance we’ll be recognized, and us carrying around a baby is going to be damn noticeable.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro allows. “So when do you want to go?”

“Not for a little while, yet,” Sanji says. “Like I told you, I want to try him out with what we have on hand first, and then kind of go from there. Besides, our options are extra limited since he hasn’t started getting any teeth yet.”

“All those books Robin sent say that could start happening any day now,” Zoro points out. “He’s over six months, and that sounds like the standard.”

“Great, just one more thing to keep an eye on,” Sanji says. “God I hope he doesn’t inherit your fucking demon teeth.”

“What’s wrong with my teeth?” Zoro demands, looking like he’s not sure if he should be baffled or offended.

Sanji snorts. “You’ve got canines that wouldn’t look out of place on a tiger and the tensile jaw strength of a hyena. We’re screwed if he gets them and then goes through a biting faze.”

“I’m pretty sure we can handle a biting infant, Curls,” Zoro drawls. “Or I can, anyway. I guess I can’t speak for you.”

Reasonably certain he’s just been insulted, but also aware of the fact that he needs to get moving, Sanji flips him off while Sora’s back is turned. “I’m heading out,” he says in the face of Zoro’s eyeroll. “See you later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

*****
Sanji’s not expecting to see Zoro or Sora again until sometime that afternoon, and is therefore surprised when a waiter bustles in around mid-morning and tells him he’s urgently needed outside.

“Someone’s come in on the first round of ships for the day,” the man hisses when Sanji gapes at him in surprise. “Someone who was looking for Roronoa.”

Wondering what the hell that could mean, Sanji turns down everything at his station and tells Patty to keep an eye on things. He then goes hurrying after the waiter, not stopping until they’ve emerged out on the deck where a crowd is forming.

Zoro’s standing at the centre of it with his hand resting above the hilts of his swords and a bored expression on his face. He nods at Sanji when he spots him, his lips curving upwards in a wry smile. “Hey, Curls. Have you come to watch the show?”

“What show?” Sanji asks, coming to a stop next to him. “And where’s - ?”

“With one of your waiters,” Zoro says before Sanji has a chance to finish his sentence. “I handed him off when the little idiot made his challenge. It seemed like a bad idea to have a duel while holding him.”

“A duel?” Sanji repeats, and it’s only now that he realizes there’s someone else being eyed by the crowd. It’s a kid, one who looks barely old enough to wield the sword he’s got strapped to his back, but Sanji groans when he recognizes the determined expression on his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sorry,” Zoro says, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “I guess those marines from a few months ago must have spread the word that I was here. He told me he tracked me down based on some rumors and that he’s come to fight me for my title.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji mutters. “Does that mean we can expect a sudden influx of sword obsessed lunatics who are looking to do the same?”

“It might,” Zoro says with an easy shrug. “I definitely ran into more than one of them while I was traveling. It’s the price you pay for being the best.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji says again. He eyes the kid more warily now, sizing him up in an attempt to assess his threat level. “He doesn’t look like much from here, but don’t be cocky. If you turn me into a single parent before Sora’s first birthday I’ll beat your ass in the afterlife.”

“Not gonna happen,” Zoro says glibly. “And hey, now the little man’ll have a chance to see me in action.”

“Because that’s a great formative experience for a six month old,” Sanji grumbles. Glancing around until he can locate the rest of the assembled waitstaff, he snaps his fingers to get the attention of the one holding Sora. “You. Bring him here.”

Looking relieved, the man scurries over and offers Sora up without being asked. Accepting the baby with a nod of thanks, Sanji makes sure he has him properly settled on his hip before turning back to Zoro. “I should probably bring him back inside.”

“Don’t bother,” Zoro says, sliding Wado a few inches out of her sheath with a flick of his thumb. “This fight’ll be over before you even make it to the door. Oi, kid! You ready to do this then?”

His would-be challenger bristles, one hand reaching backwards to grab for his own blade. “I’m no kid,” he says through clenched teeth. “You’re just an old man who’s passed his prime.”

“He’s barely thirty,” Sanji sputters, offended on his own behalf since he’s eight months older than Zoro. “What kind of bullshit is that?”

“The pretty typical kind,” Zoro tells him, unbothered. “Most of them think anyone with a year or two more under their belt is ancient.”

“Well I think this idiot needs to have his head examined,” Sanji grunts. “Kick the little brat’s ass, Marimo.”

“That’s the plan,” Zoro says, and leaps forward without any further warning.

The fight’s over before the kid really has a chance to draw his blade. He hits the deck in a heap, bleeding from a few shallow cuts, but mainly taken out by the force of Zoro’s haki. He’ll make a full recovery, Sanji’s sure of it, and maybe now he’ll think twice about challenging someone so out of his league.

“That made your first fight with Mihawk look halfway decent,” he says, barely surpassing the urge to go kick the kid while he’s down. “Why’d he even bother?”

“For the same reason I fought Mihawk that time,” Zoro says. He’s returned Wado to her rightful place without so much as breaking a sweat, and is now watching as a couple crew members step in to carry the kid off to their makeshift infirmary to recuperate. “Because he’s too stupid to know how outclassed he is.”

“Oh yeah?” Adjusting Sora on his hip, Sanji lets out a low whistle. “Look at you finally owning the fact that you were an idiot for fighting Mihawk that day. It only took you, what? Eleven years to come to that realization.”

“Please,” Zoro scoffs. “I knew partway through the fight that I was out of my league. The only difference is, I had the drive to use it as a learning experience to motivate me. Meanwhile, I doubt we’ll be seeing this guy back here again.”

“I suspect you’re right,” Sanji admits, recalling how thoroughly the kid had gone down. “Having said that, it sounds like he won’t be the last of his kind. Not if word’s gotten around about where you are, anyway.”

“Probably not,” Zoro admits, his face thoughtful when he twists to look at him. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Sanji can think of easily a dozen ways in which it might be, but all he says is, “Not so long as you don’t get your dumb ass killed in front of our son. Who, for the record, probably shouldn’t be being exposed to this kind of thing. Chopper’s going to have a conniption when he hears about it.”

“I’d honestly be more worried about Usopp,” Zoro says, glancing down at Sora. “Besides, he doesn’t exactly look traumatized if you know what I mean.”

In actuality, Sora looks the exact opposite of traumatized. He’d squealed in delight when he’d seen Wado come out, and he’s still happily clapping his hands even now that the show is over.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Sanji says, pulling a tiny hand back as Sora reaches in the direction of Zoro’s swords. “Absolutely not, Darling. You’re far too young for the likes of those terrible things, and if I find out Daddy’s been letting you touch them, I’ll feed him all three at once.”

Laughing, Zoro holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Take it easy, Curls. I haven’t let him near them, I promise, but he’s seen me clean them and practice with them. Maybe those Wano genes are just stronger than we thought.”

“You take that back,” Sanji says firmly. “I refuse to be responsible for setting another sword-obsessed lunatic loose on the world. Sora, you’re going to be more civilized than that.”

Heedless of Sanji’s insistence, Zoro leans over to tickle one of Sora’s feet. “He’s going to be whatever he wants to be.”

And, well, Sanji can’t really argue with that.

*****
Zoro’s prediction turns out to be true, and about a half a dozen swordsmen and women grace the Baratie with their presence over the next couple of months. They all come bearing various levels of skill, but each is summarily dismissed with their intended target barely breaking a sweat.

Sanji tells him not to get cocky, Zoro tells him not to get his underwear in a bunch, and Zeff threatens to kill them both and raise Sora on his own if they damage his ship by fighting. Sora, bless him, doesn’t offer up an opinion.

All in all things seem to be running smoothly, though - possibly too smoothly. Sanji’s in the middle of doing inventory one afternoon, when he’s interrupted by the sound of Zeff’s pegleg clomping down the stairs.

“If we’re short staffed on the line for some reason, you’re going to have to find somebody else,” Sanji says without looking up from the clipboard he’s holding. “I’m busy.”

“Too bad,” Zeff replies, tapping his bad leg irritably against the floor until Sanji deigns to look up. “We’ve just had a VIP arrive, and I suspect you're going to want to deal with him.”

Sanji frowns. “Unless it’s the crew - ” Who are nowhere near the All Blue at the moment, he knows. “ - or an enemy whose ass I’m going to have to kick, I imagine the staff can handle it. I want to get this done.”

Unmoved, Zeff raises a bushy eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you going to ask who it is?”

Biting back a sigh, Sanji shoves the pen he’s holding in his pocket, accepting the fact that he’s going to have to partake in whatever game this is before he can get back to work. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who is it?”

Zeff smirks. “The former World’s Greatest Swordsman.”

“Mihawk?” Sanji blinks, but then shrugs. Although he doesn’t pop by often, this isn’t the first time the man’s graced the Baratie with his presence, so he doesn’t see what the big deal is. “You don’t need me for that. Have someone take his order, and I’ll go say hello once I’m done here.”

“He knows the Cabbage is here,” Zeff says. “In fact, he made a point of telling me that wasn’t why he’d stopped by, but he figured he may as well pay his respects while he was in the area. He’s got the little pink haired girl with him too. She was more insistent on having a reunion.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji sighs. “They’re going to ask why he’s settled here and that’s going to lead to them finding out about Sora.”

“More than likely,” Zeff agrees, nodding. “I figured you might want to be present for the event.”

“You thought right,” Sanji says, dropping his clipboard on the nearest available surface and heading for the stairwell. “Put them in one of the private dining rooms, will you? I’ll go find the Mossball.”

“I’d start by checking your rooms if I were you,” Zeff says as he passes by. “I didn’t see him outside, and no one else has laid eyes on him for a couple of hours. That usually means he’s up there.”

“I know what it means, thanks.” Sanji tells him, accenting his exit with a wave of his hand.

Rather than simply take Zeff’s word on it,he reaches out with his observation haki to get a feel for wherever Zoro’s hiding. He brushes over a presence that can only be Mihawk in the process, and then climbs higher when it turns out that Zeff is bang on the money.

Zoro’s doing pushups on the floor when Sanji enters the room. He’s planted directly in front of a blanket that Sora’s lying on, and the two of them are facing each other as the baby likewise lifts himself up on shaky arms.

Unable to stop himself from grinning, Sanji leans against the doorframe and shakes his head. “What is this, a training regime?” He asks, laughing at the pair of them.

“He likes it when I do it with him,” Zoro says, unconcerned by Sanji’s amusement. “And he’s getting really good at holding himself up. I bet he’s going to start crawling any day now.”

“That does seem likely,” Sanji says. “As terrifying a thought as that may be. We’re going to need so many baby gates once he starts moving on his own.”

“Franky’s already on it.” Zoro says, which is news to Sanji, but not really a surprise when he bothers to think about it.

“Speaking of Franky,” he says then. “We’ve got what he would call a ‘blast from the past’ down in the restaurant, and he’s asking to see you.”

“Oh yeah?” Pausing in his reps, Zoro rolls over onto his back and stares up at Sanji from flat on the floor. He gets a little too close to Sora, though, and gets his earrings yanked for his troubles. “Who is it?”

“Aren’t you going to do something about that?” Sanji asks, nodding at the baby.

“Eh, he does it all the time, and hasn’t ripped them out yet,” Zoro says dismissively. “So who’s downstairs?”

“Mihawk and Perona, apparently.” Sanji says, smirking when Zoro’s good eye goes wide. “I haven’t actually seen them myself, but it’s hardly something Zeff would lie about.”

“No, I guess not,” Zoro says, now sounding distracted as he unhooks Sora’s fingers from his earrings. “What do they want?”

“Lunch, I’m assuming,” Sanji replies. “And also to say hello from what I’ve been told, so you should probably get up and make yourself presentable.”

“They know I’m here?”

“They asked about you specifically,” Sanji confirms. “So up you get, Mossy, and Sora too. It looks like it’s time for him to meet your mentor.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Zoro says. “You’ve met, Mihawk. He’s weird as hell and is probably going to freak him out.”

“Well, you’ve already beaten the man once,” Sanji reasons. “You can do it again if it’s on Sora’s behalf. Now, come on, chop chop.”

Looking resigned, Zoro moves.

*****
“I am confused.” Mihawk says, which Sanji is frankly going to have to take his word for because his expression hasn’t changed a single iota since he’d sat down at the table. “This is your child? The both of you?

“Yes,” Zoro says through clenched teeth. In his defence, this is the third time he’s had to repeat himself.

“So, let me get this straight,” Perona says, her abnormally large eyes flicking from Sanji to Zoro to Sora, and then repeating the process. “You two stumbled over some leftover devil fruit tech and accidentally made yourselves a baby. Who you are now raising at a floating restaurant on a mythical ocean with an horde of former criminals turned cooks to help you. Have I got that right?”

Sanji offers her one of his most charming smiles. “You’ve summed the situation up perfectly, my dear. I’m very impressed.”

“His name is Sora,” Zoro adds helpfully. “You can hold him if you like.”

“I’m good where I am,” Perona says, trying and failing to keep from wrinkling her nose. “Babies are cute from afar, but up close they mainly just seem sticky.”

“It’s not his fault,” Zoro says, shooting her a dirty look. “He’s cutting teeth and they drool a lot when they do that.”

“So much,” Sanji stresses, recalling the days leading up to Sora’s first bottom teeth coming in. “Just an absolutely excessive amount of drool. Not to mention all the crying because they’re in pain and possibly feverish.”

Mihawk and Perona share a look.

“ … right.” The woman says eventually. “That sounds fun?”

Sanji considers telling her how much fun it wasn’t, but is interrupted when Carne enters the room carrying one of the highchairs they’ve taken to stocking at the restaurant. He drops it into the space between Sanji and Zoro, waving at Sora when the baby squeaks at the sight.

“Your old man thought you might want your hands free to eat,” he tells Sanji. “He also said to let you know that your meals should be out in just a few more minutes.

“Thanks,” Sanji says, half his attention focused on where Zoro is busy strapping Sora into the chair. “Can you grab a snack for Sora from his food cupboard too? Maybe some of those wafers you and Patty picked up on that last island?”

“Already on it,” Carne says, producing a box from the pocket of his apron with a flourish. “We know how he likes to join in when he sees other people eating.”

That was another new habit Sora had developed recently. He seems to want to be included in whatever’s going on around him, and he definitely loves when he gets to be the center of attention.

Popping the tab of the box open, Sanji pulls one of the wafers free, and makes a face at how bland and unappealing it looks. He can’t wait until he’s able to introduce more variety into the baby’s diet, but at least Sora seems to like the things.

Sora also seems to be developing into a bottomless pit who will shove anything into his mouth if given that opportunity. Having learned from experience, this is why Sanji now snaps the wafer he’s holding in half and offers only one end to the baby.

“I’m trying to keep you from choking yourself,” he says when Sora makes a disgruntled face, like he knows Sanji’s holding out on him. “Finish the first part first, and then you can have the second.”

“Bah!” Sora shrieks, which Sanji decides to take as an agreement.

“Good boy,” he says, allowing the wafer piece to be snapped up by a chubby fist. “Now do me a favor and eat it before you gum it into a slimey mess and wind up wearing more of it than you do ingesting.”

“How charming,” Mihawk says, now eyeing Sora like he’s a bomb that might go off. “Although, I must say, he’s showcasing impressive grip strength and dexterity for one so young. Have you tried letting him hold a sword yet?”

Zoro makes a face that Sanji refuses to describe as anything other than a pout. “Curls won’t let me,” he says, sounding aggrieved,

“He’s eight months old,” Sanji sputters. “He can barely hold his own head up, let alone a sword. Not to mention the likelihood of him cutting himself on one of the damnable things.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Zoro insists. “And obviously I’m not talking about letting him use one. He’s years away from that, even with a practice sword. You know he’s interested in them, though. He’s always grabbing for mine.”

“He’s a baby,” Sanji counters. “That’s what they do. He’s also always grabbing for your earrings, shirt collars, and any hair he can reach. If you handed him to Mihawk right now, he’d take a chance at that necklace of his. Him trying to touch your swords doesn’t mean anything.”

“Please do not attempt to make me hold your offspring,” Mihawk says, sounding alarmed. “I do not anticipate it ending well.”

Zoro snorts. “Don’t worry, old man. We’ll keep you safe from him.”

“Yeah, just don’t try and give him a damn sword, and we’ll be good,” Sanji adds. “I’d like him to have at least started walking and talking before we try leveling up like that.”

“S’ coming sooner than you think,” Zoro says, glancing at where Sora’s busy trying to gnaw his wafer into submission. “After all, he’s pretty much sleeping through the night now, and for a while there it felt like that would never happen.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sanji says grimly. “I was starting to forget what a regular night’s sleep felt like. And getting increasingly jealous of your ability to drop off again as soon as he had.”

“Aw, Curls.” Zoro bats his eyes at him, which looks ridiculous on him since he only has the one that’s functional. “Feeling a little green-eyed, were we? You should have said something. I could have stayed up with you.”

Mihawk unexpectedly seems to brighten at this. “Ah, so you two are not only raising the child together, but - ”

A resounding crack rings out under the table, and Sanji wonders what the hell it was since nobody else seems to move. “Did anyone else hear that?” He asks, twisting his neck from side to side in confusion.

Perona takes a dainty sip of her tea, while Sora remains focused on his snack. Meanwhile, Zoro and Mihawk appear to have entered into some kind of bizarre staring contest, and are ignoring everyone else around them.

Eventually, however, the silence breaks and Mihawk sits back with a huff. “Really, Roronoa,” he says, “I expected better of you. You haven’t listened to a word I said about not repeating my mistakes.”

“I listened plenty,” Zoro retorts. “The situations are just different.”

“Be that as it may,” Mihawk starts, but Zoro holds up a hand to cut him off.

“I’m not talking about this here,” he says firmly. “If you want to give me a lecture, you can do it after we’ve finished eating and once there are no witnesses around. Is that clear?”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Mihawk replies. “How about a duel for old time’s sake?”

His irritation fading, Zoro looks thoughtful. “I could maybe be convinced to go a few rounds,” he says, scratching his chin.

Sanji glares at them both. “If either of you so much as scratches this ship, I will personally punt you into the ocean and feed your swords to the sea kings.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’m sure,” Mihawk tells him, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “We’ll be careful. But for now, let us enjoy whatever meal your staff have prepared. I’ve no doubt it will be as delicious as ever.”

*****
“What was Mihawk talking about earlier today?”

That question’s been burning a hole in Sanji’s brain since Mihawk and Perona had departed the Baratie. Unable to keep it to himself any longer, he asks it now while he’s busy folding a number of Sora’s sleepers that have just been returned from the laundry.

“Which part?” Zoro asks, his tone distracted. Unlike Sanji, who’s doing chores, he’s lying sprawled over Sora on his play mat, and is alternating between tickling the baby and blowing raspberries on his stomach while Sora screams with joy. “He said a lot of stuff, most of which could be summed up as ‘I can’t believe someone let you idiots have a child’.”

“I mean,” Sanji pauses briefly in the act of folding a sleeper that has a pattern of tiny ducks stitched onto the front, “I can’t really blame him for that one. I have similar thoughts pretty much every day.”

“That’s stupid of you,” Zoro replies without looking up. “We’re doing great.”

Sanji’s not sure about that, but he has to admit that the past eight months have gone more smoothly than anticipated. For all the sleepless nights and moments of sheer panic whenever Sora had done something unexpected, he doesn’t regret any of it and would go so far as to describe himself as happy.

“We’re successfully keeping him alive,” he allows when Zoro glances up at him expectantly. “And I’m pretty sure he likes having us around. Both of those count as wins in my book.”

“He doesn’t just like us, he loves us,” Zoro tells him with confidence. “We’re his favorite people, and I bet he says as much once he learns to talk.”

Sanji is very much not willing to take that bet. Blame it on all the years of sustained child abuse, but he never goes into any relationships expecting any form of love to come out of them. After all, look at the situation in which he now finds himself.

Still, all he says is, “I think we’re going to have to wait a bit for any heartfelt declarations. I’m pretty sure they start out with only single words, not entire sentences.”

“Ah, but in this case we’re talking about the smartest baby in the whole world,” Zoro replies. “He might skip right to entire paragraphs.”

“Not with your genes in the mix,” Sanji laughs. “I’d say the odds are better at him being the strong silent type.”

Zoro looks down at Sora, who’s happily babbling away to himself on the mat. “There is nothing silent about this baby,” he points out, grinning when Sora grabs a fistful of his hair and starts yanking on it as hard as he can.

“Don’t let him do that,” Sanji chides. “It’s a habit we really need to break him of.”

“He’s not hurting me.” Zoro says, shrugging, but he does untangle Sora’s fingers from the green strands, which Sanji is going to take as a win.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Sanji says after a few moments of watching the pair fondly. “What was Mihawk talking about during lunch today? When he told you he expected better of you, I mean?”

“Eh, he’s always saying things like that,” Zoro says. Shoving himself up onto his knees, he hooks his hands under Sora, taking the baby with him as he climbs the rest of the way to his feet. “It’s usually a commentary on my table manners or something similar.”

“That’s not what it sounded like,” Sanji says dubiously, picturing the look on Mihawk’s face in his mind. “It sounded like he was getting at something, I don’t know, personal.”

Zoro makes a face. “Curls, Mihawk and I don’t exactly have the kind of relationship where we have heart to hearts. Mainly we just try to maim each other and occasionally succeed.”

Now it’s Sanji’s turn to grimace. “You sound alarmingly pleased with that.”

Zoro shrugs, Sora riding up and down on his hip with the motion. “I don’t know about ‘pleased’,” he says, “but it works for us.”

Since Sanji doesn’t exactly have a typical relationship with his own mentor, he supposes he can’t comment further. He does, however, decide to get in one more parting shot. “I still don’t think a lack of manners was what Mihawk was getting at. And I don’t think you think that either.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Zoro asks, and, held safely within the circle of his arms, Sora also makes an aggrieved face. Like he too is judging Sanji.

For his part, Sanji doesn’t really want to fight about it, but he can’t help but feel like he’s missing something. “I’m not calling you anything,” he says finally. “I’m just telling you what I think.”

Zoro’s quiet for a long moment, until suddenly he shifts his grip on Sora and holds him out for Sanji to take. “It’s getting late,” he announces. “We should get him ready for bed and give him his bottle. Do you want to change him since you’ve got the clothes there, and I’ll go down to the kitchen?”

“That depends,” Sanji replies, nevertheless accepting the baby and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Do you think you can actually find not only the kitchen but also your way back here before morning?”

“Ha ha,” Zoro says sarcastically. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I think I do alright,” Sanji agrees, rocking Sora, who laughs. “And I think this guy feels the same. Don’t you, Darling?”

Sora responds with a happy squeak and a sticky hand smacked against Sanji’s jawline.

“Ah, my little drool machine,” Sanji coos, noting the way it’s not only on Sora’s hands but actively running down his chin and onto his chest. “Maybe it’s not just pajamas you need, but rather a full on bath. What do you say? Shall we get you all cleaned up before bed?”

Since Sora gives no indication to the contrary, Sanji’s going to take this as agreement. “Excellent,” he says, nodding his head in approval. “I’m so glad your hygiene is better than your Daddy’s.”

“I shower plenty,” Zoro grumbles, but Sanji ignores him with years of practice.

*****
Sanji tries to put Mihawk’s words and the subsequent conversation out of his mind, but unfortunately he’s always been a dweller by nature. He often finds himself revisiting the interaction in his head whenever he has a spare moment, and in particular when he’s lying in bed awake at night with Zoro conked out next to him.

He wants to bring it up again. He thinks he should bring it up again, but every time he starts to work up the nerve, some distraction comes along to stop him. Whether it’s the ship, the kitchen, their customers, or Sora, he always seems to have something that’s in need of his attention.

“Not that I mind in your case, of course.” He tells Sora after the most recent occasion that thought crosses his mind. “I like keeping busy, and you’re the best distraction a man could ask for.”

He smiles down at the baby, who’s currently resting comfortably in his arms, and gets another smile back in return. Doing so puts Sora’s now four (four!) teeth on display, and gives Sanji a good view of the bump on his upper gum where a fifth is getting ready to break free.

“You’re in a pretty good mood considering the fact that you’re teething again,” Sanji notes, absently brushing his thumb over Sora’s chin in a poor attempt to wipe it clean. “Usually you’re way crankier when one of those buggers is about to come through.”

Unconcerned, Sora flaps the tiny stuffed tiger he’s holding in Sanji’s direction and then shoves one of its ears in his mouth. The thing had been a gift purchased by Zeff on a recent trip off the Baratie and quickly became the most well loved of the baby’s toys.

“Well loved but also in serious need of a bath thanks to the way you keep chewing on it,” Sanji says, mostly to himself. “Remind me to throw it in the wash some night when you’re asleep. I feel like it’s more slobber than toy at this point.”

Sora waves the tiger again, this time managing to smack Sanji in the nose with it.

“As always, Darling, your enthusiasm is much appreciated.”

“Did he get you with it again?”

Startled, Sanji looks up from the baby in his arms and finds Zoro standing in the open doorway of his room, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. “Where did you come from?” He asks, surprised. “I didn’t hear you on the stairs.”

Zoro shrugs, a lazy smile making its way across his face. “Given how caught up you were in staring at him, I’m betting you might not have noticed if a cannon went off next to you. What’s he doing that’s so interesting?”

“You mean besides existing?” Sanji asks with an embarrassed laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We’ve just been relaxing up here for a bit since I’ve got some downtime.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro says, jerking his thumb towards the hallway behind him. “Did you want me to leave the two of you alone? I know you haven’t had much time with him one on one lately.”

Sanji feels a familiar rush of fondness sweep through him and has to fight to keep a besotted sigh from escaping. “You’re welcome to stick around if you like,” he says once he can trust himself to speak. “We’re not doing anything special.”

Approval given, Zoro saunters into the room and goes to sit at the foot of the bed. “So what’ve you two been up to? Just hanging out?”

“Pretty much,” Sanji replies. “He was napping when I got up here, but woke up a little while after and wanted to be held. Albeit not without retrieving his tiger for him beforehand.”

Sora waves the tiger again, this time getting Sanji in the chin with it.

“It needs a wash,” Sanji says tiredly. “And so will he before the day is out, I suspect. Our little friend here is oozing a small ocean onto his chest again.”

“More teeth?” Zoro guesses, nodding when Sanji does. “Right. D’you want me to grab a clean outfit for him?”

“There’s no rush,” Sanji says, using his foot to get the rocking chair moving some more. “I was mainly just referencing the inevitable.”

“Okay, well, speaking of the inevitable,” Zoro says, “and also of his clothes, he’s having another growth spurt. We’re going to have to pick up new stuff for him, and soon.”

“I know,” Sanji admits. He’d noticed earlier that the shirt Sora’s wearing is a little tight around the shoulders, which has been an ongoing problem with most of his clothes in recent days. “Did you know he’s in the 98th percentile for both height and weight?”

Zoro gives him an amused look. “Yeah, Curls,” he drawls. “I was on the same call with Chopper that you were.”

“I know that, Moss,” Sanji says, rolling his eyes. “I just need to repeat it because I’m having trouble processing it. When I was his age, Judge used to call me the runt of the litter, but Sora’s a tank.”

His amused look having morphed into a frown at the ‘runt’ comment, Zoro shakes his head. “Sora’s a perfectly normal baby who’s the product of two decent sized people and getting all the nutrients he needs. I’m betting you were only small in comparison to your brothers, and I was small because I had to steal to eat until I was nine.”

That’s news to Sanji, and he has to swallow heavily before he can speak again. “You were malnourished?”

Zoro doesn’t so much as blink. “I was a street rat,” he says easily. “The two tend to go hand in hand. Although I’m guessing it wasn’t nearly as bad as you and the rock. I was just kinda lean until Koushiro took me in.”

Sanji frowns and holds Sora a little tighter. “I don’t like hearing things like that,” he murmurs, and Zoro gives him an unusually gentle smile.

“Which is why I normally don’t mention it,” he says. “Also, the past is the past. We can’t undo it, but we can and have been making sure that this little guy doesn’t have to worry about stuff like that. Hence the need for new clothes.”

“Marimo, if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you wanted to go shopping,” Sanji says, giving the other man a sly look. “Which is an act I know you hate, yet here we are.”

Zoro shrugs, unbothered at being called out. “I don’t mind doing it if it’s for him,” he says, gesturing at Sora. “Plus it’s been a while since either of us has been off the ship, and, I don’t know about you, but I could do with a chance to stretch my legs on land.”

Those words cause the usual pang to sound in Sanji’s chest when he thinks about how Zoro used to spend his time roaming from place to place without anything to tie him down. Despite the swordsman’s assurances when they’d first brought Sora to the Baratie, Sanji still worries that he’s chafing under this new life.

“I guess I could do with a change of scenery,” he slowly says aloud. “What are you thinking, we leave Sora with Zeff and make a day of it?”

“Well we’re definitely not leaving him with anyone else,” Zoro says firmly. “God knows what kind of mess we’d come back to, but it wouldn’t be good. Bare minimum, something would be on fire.”

Knowing their luck that’s probably true, so Sanji nods. “Okay, Zeff it is then. But we’re only going for the day, right? I’m not ready to leave him with someone else overnight yet.”

“I doubt he’s ready for that either,” Zoro replies, his face softening. “He likes his routine. So, yeah, just a day trip.”

“Alright,” Sanji says after taking another moment to consider the idea. “Sounds fun.”

*****
“Okay, I made up three bottles for him and stored them in the fridge, plus there’s a bunch of snacks in his cupboard. If you need more bottles for some reason, like maybe he’s stress eating or whatever, the formula is there too. I also left a stack of clean sleepers next to his changing table, and his tiger is a good one to give him if he starts to fuss. All told, you should be fine.”

“You don’t say,” Zeff says dryly from where he’s standing on the deck with Sora balanced on his hip. “Eggplant, just in case it’s somehow escaped your notice, I’d like to remind you that I’ve lived with this baby for the past seven and a half months. I’m fine to mind him for a while. Hell, it’s not even the first time I’ve done it.”

“I know that,” Sanji replies, aggrieved. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everything’s in order before we leave. We’ll be gone all day, and that’s a while for him to be without us.”

Zeff gives Sora a scrutinizing look, the baby making a face back at him. “Pretty sure he’s fine with you taking off for the day,” the old chef announces. “Now hurry up and get onboard before the Cabbage leaves without you.”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Zoro asks from where he’s already standing on the deck of the small supply ship that the Baratie maintains for transport purposes.

Zeff heaves a long suffering sigh, looking all the more resigned while Sora grabs for his mustache. “Boy, you’ve looked like you had a death wish since the day I met you and you tried to off yourself via Warlord on my front step. I don’t pretend to understand what goes on inside your head.”

“I had a good reason for that,” Zoro grumbles, turning away to start fiddling with the tiller. “C’mon, Curls. The quicker we leave the more reasonable the hour that we’ll get back.”

Since Sanji can’t argue with that logic, he gives Sora one last wave and then scrambles into the boat. A couple of the Baratie’s crew help them launch, and it’s not long before they’re on their way, the restaurant shrinking behind them in the distance.

Sanji waits until they can officially no longer see the Baratie, and then starts rooting around in his jacket pocket. His fingers close around the box of cigarettes he has stashed there, and he eagerly lights one as soon as he has it free from the packaging.

“Not a word,” he says, holding up a hand to stall whatever snide comment Zoro’s about to make. “I have cut back exponentially since Sora was born, and I deserve a chance to indulge every now and again.”

Zoro huffs at him, but makes no attempt to take the cigarette as he exhales a cloud of smoke. “I’m telling Chopper,” he says instead, “and the second Sora’s old enough to understand that those things are bad for you, I’m going to get him to help me guilt you into stopping for good.”

The shudder Sanji makes in response to this is only partially faked, and he flashes Zoro a grim smile. “Two can play at that game,” he says, taking another drag. “You do that and you can kiss your alcohol intake goodbye.”

Zoro grumbles something Sanji can’t make out, but that seems to be the end of the conversation. The swordsman goes back to focusing on the tiller and the eternal pose that will guide them to the nearest island. Since they’ve made this trip enough times now that even his terrible sense of direction won’t get them lost, Sanji leaves him to it.

The trip is about three hours one way, which is why they’ve left with the sun just barely up. The markets should just be opening by the time they arrive, meaning they’ll have most of the day to go about their business before they have to turn around and head home. With luck, they’ll even be able to hit some food stalls after they’ve picked up what they want for Sora.

“Looks like it’s going to be a nice day,” Zoro says apropos of nothing. “Is there anything you want to do besides shop?”

Sanji pauses with his cigarette halfway to his lips. “It’s not an overly large island,” he says, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know that there’s anything else to do.”

Zoro shrugs, his eye never leaving the water in front of him. “We could go for a walk,” he suggests. “Stretch our legs on dry land for a change. Or we could stick around late enough to grab supper and eat somewhere other than the Baratie for once.”

“I have to admit, the idea of eating something I didn’t have to prepare myself does sound nice,” Sanji says wistfully. “But if we do that, it’ll be after dark by the time we get back. That’s going to stick Zeff and the others with having to get Sora ready for bed.”

“I’m pretty sure the old man can handle it,” Zoro replies dryly. “And if the little guy won’t go down for some reason, well one night of a slightly messed up sleep schedule won’t hurt him.”

“No, but it might hurt us,” Sanji points out. “You know how he loves to spread the joy around when he can’t sleep.”

Zoro laughs at this. “Misery loves company?” He suggests, and Sanji can’t help himself from grinning fondly in return.

“Something like that, I guess,” he agrees. “Having said that,” he takes a contemplative puff from the cigarette, hit with a sudden urge of longing. “Having today be about more than running errands does sound nice. We might regret it later, but I guess I could be convinced to do a bit of sightseeing.”

“Yeah?” Zoro says, sounding pleased. “Cool. Let’s do it then.”

“Yeah.” Sanji nods. “Let’s.”

*****
For an island that’s situated so close to a mythical ocean, the one they stop at really isn’t much to write home about. The people are calm and friendly, the weather pleasant, and the overall atmosphere uneventful. Sanji always gets the feeling that unexpected things rarely happen here, but maybe that’s just him being paranoid.

They’ve already hit the shops they needed to, and have been back to their boat once already to store their purchases. Normally that would be the end of things and they’d be on their way home by now, but today they’re following a different track by agreement. Late afternoon sees them ambling through the town square, taking in the minimal sights and chatting off and on about nothing in particular.

“It’s pretty here,” Zoro says, nodding at a fountain that dominates the square. “Not as good as the All Blue, obviously, but it’s still nice.”

“It is,” Sanji agrees, “but you’re right about the All Blue being a better sight. Especially these days,” he adds, a vision appearing in his mind of Sora carefully crawling around the Baratie’s deck, while Zoro trails after him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. “Things are … they’re good. Aren’t they?”

“Really good,” Zoro confirms, his words making Sanji sag with relief. “I can’t think of much that would make them any better.”

Unbidden, Sanji stops in his tracks, his relief gone. “But there is something?” He asks fretfully, suddenly dreading the answer. “Something that’s missing? Are you saying you’re not totally satisfied with being on the Baratie?”

Having stopped when Sanji did, Zoro now squints at him. “What are you talking about?” He asks. “That’s not what I said. I’m perfectly happy with what we’ve been doing. It’s good.”

“Good but not great?” Sanji tries, getting more worked up as opposed to less. “I’ve worried, you know, from the very beginning that you’d be bored all the way out here, stuck in one place with me. It’s so different from how you’ve lived the last, what, fourteen years of your life? Sometimes I feel like I’ve trapped you here against your will.”

“Curls - ” Zoro’s mouth moves, but no further sound is coming out. He’s staring at Sanji like he’s grown a second head, and for his part Sanji has no idea what to do about it.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to the ground. He scuffs his heel against a couple of the stones that line the plaza, trying to figure out how to walk back from the last few minutes. “I didn’t mean to dump on you like that. I don’t even know where all that came from.”

In answer, Zoro lashes out and grabs him by the wrist. He does a quick scan of the surrounding area, and then starts dragging Sanji towards what appears to be some kind of alleyway.

“Moss - ” Sanji starts, but Zoro shakes his head.

“Not yet,” he says, not saying anything further and not releasing his hold until they’re in the alley. Once there, however, he lets go and turns to look at Sanji. “This is at least a little more private.”

Sanji’s not sure if that’s better or worse. On the one hand, they won’t have witnesses to a conversation that seems to be spinning rapidly out of his control, but, on the other, there’s no one to reign them in either.

Taking a careful step back, Zoro crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a heavy breath. “You didn’t trap me anywhere,” he says firmly. “I told you that from the beginning.”

“Except I did,” Sanji counters, running a hand nervously through his hair. “I mean, okay, I know that technically we’re both equally responsible for making Sora, but I was the one who insisted he grow up out here.”

“And I agreed with you,” Zoro reminds him. “I was onboard with that plan before you even suggested it.”

“Because you’re a realist when it counts,” Sanji says. “The Baratie was the safest and most sensible option we could come up with for him, but I still got to have my life stay mostly the same. You, though, you had to give up everything.”

“The fuck did I have to give up?” Zoro asks incredulously. “Roaming from island to island with no goal in mind beyond beating whoever challenged me next?” He snorts. “I don’t know why this would come as a surprise to you, but it wasn’t exactly a glamorous life.”

“You chose it, though,” Sanji stresses. “And there must have been something that drew you to it, or else you would have just stayed on the Sunny like everyone else who wasn’t settling in other places.”

Sanji’s not sure what kind of reaction he’s expecting from Zoro at this, but it’s certainly not for the other man to let out a wheeze and look away from him, refusing to meet his eye. “Marimo?” He asks, confused. “What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Zoro grits out, his gaze laser focused on a stone wall behind them that’s been heavily graffitied by some of the locals. “You just need to understand that you didn’t take me away from anything. I chose it.”

Sanji shakes his head. “Sora forced your hand. That’s not choosing anything. That’s being given an ultimatum and picking the best of a bunch of bad options, and don’t even try to lie to me. You never would have abandoned him. You love him.”

Closing his good eye, Zoro takes a deep, deep breath and slowly exhales it through his nose. “I didn’t just come to the Baratie for Sora,” he says roughly, the words ragged in a way that sounds like they’re being physically tugged out of him. “I came for both of you. I love both of you.”

Sanji’s pretty sure he forgets how to breathe for a moment, and when he finally remembers again, what escapes him is a choked out wheeze. “You. What.”

Shaking his head like he’s trying to shake off a hit, Zoro still refuses to open his eye. “You heard me,” he rasps. “And if you’re going to get pissed, you’d better take it out on me here because I’m not leaving the Baratie and we shouldn’t fight where Sora can see.”

“Why would I be pissed?!” Sanji yelps, loud enough that they’re lucky no one ducks into the alley to see what’s going on. “You - ! I - ! Why would I be angry about that of all things, you stupid algae?! And why are you just telling me this now?!”

Zoro cracks his eye open, his expression wary. “I wasn’t planning on telling you at all,” he mutters, eyeing Sanji like he’s still expecting a shoe to the face. “You don’t feel the same, and I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

Giving in to what he feels is an entirely justifiable urge, Sanji grabs him by the collar and shakes him. “Who the hell told you I don’t feel the same?” He demands, his fingers tightening in the fabric of Zoro’s coat. “Tell me who put that moronic idea in your head so I can hunt them down and kill them!”

“Uh, I mean,” Zoro swallows nervously. “Nobody specifically said so. I just - kind of assumed.”

“Oh, so the moron is you,” Sanji snaps. “Good to know! Do you know how much time we’ve wasted? How long has this been going on?”

“What? Me being into you?” Zoro shrugs as best as he’s able when Sanji nods. “I don’t know, Curls. Since always, I guess. I can’t put an exact date on it. It’s just - it’s always been you. For me.”

Sanji utters a heartfelt groan and sags forward until their foreheads are touching. “All this time and you never said a damn thing. We have a baby together, for crying out loud! We live together and share a bed!”

“That last one was your idea!” Zoro yelps, his hands raising defensively. “I didn’t ask for that, I didn’t even suggest it, so I wasn’t taking advantage.”

“You absolutely were,” Sanji retorts. “But … so was I. I’ve spent the last nine months engaging in a very serious case of Taking What I Can Get, and telling myself that it was enough.”

“Seriously?” Zoro demands, and Sanji pulls back enough to be able to see his polexed expression. It looks like it’s taken the swordsman a bit longer to reach the conclusion Sanji’s already jumped too, and his brain needs some time to catch up. “But - but that means … ”

“That I am desperately, completely, and irrevocably head over heels for you, you stupid, stupid bastard,” Sanji concludes. “And I’m also ten times the idiot you are because I’m supposed to be the smart one and I never said anything either.”

“Why not?!”

“For the same reason as you,” Sanji says, shaking Zoro again. “I never imagined you’d feel the same way, and I was terrified of fucking up what we already had. I’d already won the lottery by getting you to stay on the Baratie for good, I wasn’t about to screw with that.”

Zoro snorts. “We could have been screwing this whole time,” he says, grinning when Sanji stares at him in horror. “Oh, come on, Curls. You left that one wide open.”

“I did absolutely nothing of the sort, you cretin,” Sanji huffs. “I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

“Me either,” Zoro says, his grin widening into something much more genuine. “Damn, that’s fucking awesome.”

“You’re an idiot,” Sanji says for the umpteenth time. “A genuinely colossal idiot who exasperates me on the daily. What in the world have I just gotten myself into?”

“I mean,” Zoro hitches one shoulder above the other, needles of the grip Sanji still has on his coat. “When you think about it, from the outside we look like we’ve been together this whole time. Pretty much the only thing that would change is, uh, you know.”

“Uh, you know,” Sanji repeats, smirking at him. “Not so bold when you’re not cracking jokes, are you, Mossy. Go on, enlighten me as to what you’re getting at.”

For a second Zoro doesn’t say anything, but then his face screws up with a look of determination. Raising his own hands he deftly unhooks Sanji’s hold on his coat and shifts to allow the blond to wrap his arms around his neck, then he grabs him by the waist and leans in.

“I mean this,” he says, just before their lips touch.

If Sanji had bothered to imagine what their first kiss would be like - and, let’s face it, he has - he can safely say he wouldn’t have envisioned it taking place in a back alley of a town he doesn’t even know the same of.

In their younger years he used to imagine grand romantic gestures or maybe during the heat of battle, whereas today he would have thought over dinner at the Baratie or maybe in bed after they’d gotten Sora down for the night. Nowhere had illegible graffiti pictured in the scenario.

Yet this is real, and therefore automatically surpasses any fantasy. Sanji hears himself groan as Zoro deepens the kiss, and he threads his fingers through the other man’s hair in an attempt to keep him close.

When the need to breathe inevitably forces them apart, neither of them goes far. Instead, they stand with their foreheads pressed together, each of them panting raggedly, clearly overwhelmed by what’s just transpired.

Sanji finds his voice first. “That was - ”

“I know.” Zoro says.

“We should - ”

“Uh huh.”

“Our timing is terrible,” Sanji groans. “We told them we’d be back tonight, and we can’t just leave Sora without any warning.”

“Nope.”

“We share a room with him,” Sanji laments. “Even once we get back, we can’t - ”

“Definitely not,” Zoro agrees. “Especially with your dad right next door too.”

“Damnit,” Sanji says, one hand curling into a fist while the other keeps carding through Zoro’s hair. “Was reminding me of that fact absolutely necessary?”

“Seeing as I’d rather not have the old bastard skin me alive for defiling his only child? Yeah, kinda,” Zoro says with a laugh. “I don’t care how far along he is in years. If I see Redleg coming at me with intent, I’m running in the other direction.”

“Coward,” Sanji tells him.

“Realist,” Zoro corrects, moving in for another kiss.

Having no reason not to, Sanji lets him. Indeed, he lets him a lot, and has to force himself back to reality several minutes later, lest he lose himself entirely.

“This really isn’t the place for this,” he murmurs, blushing when he sees the way Zoro tracks the movement of his lips. “Stop that,” he says, thumping the other man over the back of the head. “Don’t be crass.”

“It’s the only way I know how to be,” Zoro tells him. “And I’m going to get a thousand times worse now that I know I’m allowed to touch.”

“You were always allowed,” Sanji mutters. “You’ve had an open invitation for years, but I thought you’d rather travel the world on your lonesome than stay with me.”

“Well you thought wrong,” Zoro says smugly. “I wasn’t traveling because I wanted to, I was doing it because I didn’t think you’d want me posting up at the All Blue for good, and I hated being on the Sunny without you in the galley.”

Sanji blinks. “I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to repeat that.”

“You heard me,” Zoro says, more seriously now. “Earlier you talked about ultimatums and picking the best of a bunch of bad options. Well, that was mine, but, when Sora came along?” Zoro shakes his head, a rueful smile twisting his lips. “I hate to break it to you, Dartboard, but you’re not the only one who’s spent the last nine months thinking he was taking advantage of something he didn’t deserve. I was handed the world’s best kid and an excuse to stay exactly where you were, and I’ve never looked back.”

Sanji’s not sure what to say. “That’s - ”

“Pathetic, I know,” Zoro concludes, and Sanji thumps him again.

“Twerp,” he hisses. “That is not what I was thinking. Honestly, it’s kind of … flattering. In a way. And, really, I’ve been just as bad, so if you’re pathetic then I think we both are.”

Zoro makes a face at this. “Sounds like we’re lucky we’ve got a chance to make up for lost time, yeah.”

“Oh, Marimo.” Sanji curls a hand around Zoro’s neck, drawing him in closer. “On that point, I completely agree with you.”

*****
They stay a little longer on the island, getting lost in each other while they still have the chance. Unfortunately, staying the night truly isn’t an option, so evening sees them back on their boat and sailing towards the Baratie.

Mind you, their return is slightly different from their exit.

“Moss,” Sanji hisses, trying to keep his attention on the tiller while Zoro’s engaging in a concentrated attack on his entire person. “You need to stop, alright? I can see the Baratie from here, which means they can probably see us, and if someone over there catches us necking like teenagers we’ll never hear the end of it. Cease and desist immediately.”

“I,” Zoro says with a pointed nip at the hinge of Sanji’s jaw, “don’t give a single, solitary flying fuck about anyone who might see us. I’ll scream it from the damned crow’s nest if you’ll let me.”

“The Baratie doesn’t have a crow’s nest,” Sanji reminds him. “And just - just calm down, would you? I’d like to have a moment where this is just ours before we tell the whole world.”

“Fine,” Zoro huffs, and Sanji doesn’t miss the note of reluctance in his voice when he pulls away. “I’m not going to wait forever, though. I can’t.”

“You won’t have to,” Sanji assures him, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair to make sure it’s presentable. “Everyone will know soon enough. Just preferably not tonight. I’d like to have you to myself for at least twenty four hours first.”

“Gonna be tough with the kid,” Zoro points out, and Sanji scoffs.

“That’s different,” he says. “Sharing you with Sora isn’t the same thing as sharing you with other people. Now, go get the lines ready, will you? We’re coming up on the docking bay and I’d like to do this as smoothly as possible.”

A decade’s worth of practice means that they move like a well oiled machine once they actively start the task. Working in tandem they get the much smaller ship tied up at the Baratie, where a number of willing hands have come out to help them unload.

“There’s a bunch of produce and other things for the kitchen,” Sanji tells Patty and Carne where the pair are standing at the head of the group. “Everything’s labeled, so if you want to take care of that, we’ll bring in anything that’s heading upstairs for Sora.”

“Speaking of,” Zoro adds after a quick scan of the assembled crowd. “Where is he?”

Patty makes a face that suggests he’s trying very hard not to roll his eyes. “Chef Zeff basically said that you left the little guy with him, so that was the end of things. He’s been hogging him all day!”

“Yeah,” Carne agrees with a pout. “It’s not fair. How’s he supposed to learn everything his favorite uncles have to teach him if we never get to spend any time with him?”

“That sentence was horrifying, and also didn’t answer the question,” Sanji points out. “Sora is where, exactly?”

“The back office, we think,” Patty says. “That’s definitely the last place we saw them anyway.”

“Thank you,” Sanji replies, already heading in the indicated direction. “Next time, lead with that.”

“Aren’t you going to help carry all the stuff we bought for him?” Zoro calls from behind him, and Sanji doesn’t even bother turning around.

“I have faith in your ability to lug it all on your own,” he says with a flippant wave over his shoulder. “At this point, you’re the best trained pack mule a man could ask for.”

He hears Zoro grumbling something about ‘blond, curlybrowed bastards’, but since the man doesn’t put up anymore of a fight, he’s going to assume his directives are being listened to. Whistling happily to himself, he makes his way through the Baratie until his ears pick up the sound of Sora’s increasingly frequent baby babble.

“Now there’s the most precious little man in the whole world,” he croons when he opens the door to Zeff’s office and is greeted by the sight of Sora shuffling around on one of his playmats. The baby has his stuffed tiger clutched in one hand, but that doesn’t appear to be hampering his movements any.

Barely bothering to acknowledge Zeff with a nod, Sanji sweeps Sora up off the floor and hauls him in for a hug. “And just who exactly said you could stay up this late, hmm?” He asks, tickling the baby under the chin and getting the tiger to the face for his troubles. “I don’t recall saying that at all.”

Sora lets out a string of gibberish, clearly in response to Sanji’s question even if it’s completely nonsensical. Meanwhile, Zeff leans back in his chair, looking supremely unchastised.

“He’s full of piss and vinegar tonight,” he says, one eyebrow raised in a way that just dares Sanji to challenge him on this. “He wouldn’t settle no matter what I did, but didn’t seem to be actually upset over anything. I just figured he wasn’t tired yet and took him down here with me.”

“Because he’s got you wrapped around his finger,” Sanji says, grabbing Sora’s hand and kissing his palm. “The great Redleg Zeff has been brought low by a nine month old baby, and now humours his every whim.”

Zeff shrugs, but doesn’t deny it. “Like you’re any better,” he says. “I take it the shopping trip was successful?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, it was fine,” Sanji says absently, now busy making faces at Sora. “We managed to find everything we were after, and he should be fine in the clothes department for the next little while.”

“We’ll see about that,” Zeff replies. “The kid’s growing like a bad weed.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” a new voice says, and Sanji turns to find Zoro standing in the doorway with a number of bags by his feet. “Me, I think it’s just another sign that he’s healthy.”

Any response Zeff might make is drowned out by the excited screech Sora lets out upon spotting Zoro. The baby stretches out his arms. Clearly indicating that the swordsman should come closer, and Zoro’s all too happy to oblige.

“Hey, little man,” he says, wandering over and hooking his chin over Sanji’s shoulder so that he can grin right at Sora. “How was your day? Did you miss us?”

Sora’s nonsense chirps ratchet up in pitch, effectively communicating that whatever he’s trying to say, he’s excited about it, and he punctuates the whole diatribe by launching his tiger right at Zoro’s face. The swordsman’s hand catches it at the last second, but that only serves to make Sora yell more.

“Oh, are you ever worked up tonight,” Sanji says, unable to do anything but laugh in the face of Sora’s joy. “What in the world has gotten into you? I hope your grandfather hasn’t loaded you up on sugar because I’ll make him regret it if he has.”

Normally a comment like that would have Zeff barking about how he’d never interfere with the baby’s proper nutrition, but tonight no such indignation is forthcoming. Instead, when Sanji looks up, he finds Zeff eyeing them with a scrutinizing gaze.

“What?” He asks, wondering what the hell that’s about.

Zeff’s eyes flick from Sanji to Zoro and back to Sanji again. For a long moment he still doesn’t say anything, and then he grunts.

“You finally sorted yourselves out, did you?” He says, sounding, to Sanji’s suspicious ear, almost downright relieved. “Thank god. I was starting to think it’d never happen, and the betting pool was getting out of control.”

“I - ? You - !” Sputtering, Sanji twists around to look at Zoro and finds the other man gazing back at him in equal confusion. “What betting pool?!”

Zeff rolls his eyes. “The one on how long it’d take you and the Cabbage there to stop making my grandson be a child from a broken home, obviously. I was sure you’d have sorted yourselves out within the first month, but apparently I underestimated just how thick in the head you two are.”

Sanji makes a horrified noise, and even Zoro looks a little green around the gills. Of the three of them, only Sora seems unaffected, but that could easily be because he’s trying to wrestle his tiger back from Zoro, no doubt so he can attempt to weaponize it again.

“He wants the stupid cat,” Sanji says absently when he notices this, and Zoro obligingly hands it over.

Pleased by the return of his prize, Sora shoves the tiger’s tail in his mouth and begins industrially chewing on it.

“Darling,” Sanji says despairingly, but Sora ignores him.

“Right then,” Sanji decides, figuring that Zeff can do and say as he pleases, they’ve got more important things to deal with. “You need a bath, and to get to bed before you turn into a complete demon because you’re overtired.”

“Moss,” he commands, gesturing imperiously towards the doorway. “Grab those bags and follow me. We’re going to go get Sora settled for the night, and then I think we’re going to turn in ourselves. Meanwhile, the rumor mill can do as it pleases, and will no doubt be fueled by the biggest gossip of the lot, right here.”

“I’ve got to have something to keep me busy in my old age, Eggplant,” Zeff calls after them. “Also, I’d like to remind you that my room is right next to yours, and the walls are thin.”

“Goddamnit, old man!”

*****
Three Months Later

“Absolutely not!” Sanji exclaims from where he’s standing in front of the prep table he’s been working at, using his body as a human shield. “He can’t be in here! He might see what I’m working on, and it’s not ready yet.”

Zoro gives him a flat look from the kitchen doorway. He has Sora balanced on his hip, the baby’s tufts of green hair sticking up all over the place, making him look like a minute version of his father, minus the eyes.

“He doesn’t have a clue what you’re in here doing, Curls,” Zoro announces. “It won’t mean anything to him if he sees it or not.”

“Well it means something to me,” Sanji replies, brandishing the icing spoon in his hand like a weapon. “Take him somewhere else if he needs a distraction, like the dining room maybe.”

Zoro grimaces. “The dining room is hostile territory right now. You’re old man’s got half the staff in there putting up decorations, and he’s acting like some kind of drill sergeant on the warpath. He’s worse than you.”

Sanji narrows his eyes at him. “I know you technically mean that as an insult, but since Zeff and I are trying to make sure Sora has the first birthday celebration he deserves, I think it’s in fact us who are acting appropriately and you who’re slacking.”

Zoro rolls his good eye in return. “I’m all for celebrating the little guy, I just don’t think everyone needs to lose their collective minds over something he won’t even remember.”

“I’ll remember,” Sanji says firmly. “So we can’t fuck this up.”

“Curls. Swearing.” Zoro hisses, clamping a hand over Sora’s ears while the baby shrieks excitedly. “He’s going to start talking any day now - is that what you want his first word to be?”

Sanji doesn’t bat an eye. “Right now I’m scared his first word is going to be ‘sword’, and I honestly don’t know which would be more upsetting.”

“Whatever,” Zoro mutters. “Either way, we’re not going back out there and the Sunny isn’t here yet. He wants a distraction, and you’re the only option I have left.”

Sanji makes a face, but the truth of the matter is that he was going to cave the second Zoro had implied Sora wanted to see him. Unable to tell the child no, he points the spoon imperiously in Zoro’s direction.

“You can stay,” he declares, “but you had better do your damned best to keep him from seeing this cake. Also, make sure he doesn’t go near anything in here that might hurt him. He loves getting into things these days, and a kitchen isn’t exactly a baby proof locale.”

“You don’t say,” Zoro says dryly, his expression suggesting that Sanji’s an idiot. “I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.”

Nodding, Sanji returns his attention to Sora’s birthday cake. Despite their physical similarities, Zoro’s hatred for sweets is not something the baby has inherited from him, so the cake is a confectionary masterpiece if Sanji does say so himself.

Humming as he once again starts spreading the icing over the top layer, Sanji keeps one ear focused on where Zoro has now placed Sora down on the recently washed floor to allow the baby to amuse himself. He hears Sora crawl around a bit, his tiny hands thumping against the tiles, before he lets out a demanding shriek that they’ve learned only ever means one thing.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re getting predictable, buddy.” Zoro says, and out of the corner of his eye, Sanji sees the swordsman step behind Sora and lean down to let him grab for his hands. Pulling back slightly, Zoro helps Sora to his feet and lets the baby use the grip he’s maintaining on his fingers to stomp around the nearby space.

“Talk about things that are going to happen any day now,” Zoro says as the pair carefully pass by the spot where Sanji is standing. “This guy wants to walk on his own so bad, I’m pretty sure he can taste it.”

“Just be careful with him,” Sanji says. “These floors can be slippery.”

Somehow maintaining his balance without issue, Zoro leans over to brush a kiss to Sanji’s cheek, all while successfully keeping Sora upright. “I know what I’m doing,” he murmurs as he and Sora start moving again. “I’ve got this.”

Trying hard not to swoon over such a simple act, Sanji nevertheless allows himself a moment to watch the pair amble around the kitchen. Zoro’s infinitely patient as he takes small, awkward steps with Sora clinging to his fingers, and the look of sheer determination on the baby’s face is enough to make even the coldest heart melt.

“He’s doing so good,” he hears himself say, and Zoro briefly twists around to grin at him before returning his attention to Sora.

“He’s doing great,” he agrees. “He’s going to be running all over this boat in no time, and it won’t be long before you can start teaching him to swim either.”

Sanji flushes at this. His love of the ocean is no secret, and nor is his hope that he can spread that passion to his son. Based on how happy Sora seems to be near the water, he thinks he’s going to get that chance, and the All Blue will be the perfect place to grow up from that perspective.

“Learning to swim will be a necessity out here,” he says, trying not to sound too excited by the prospect. “But I hope he also just likes it in general.”

“He will,” Zoro says, gently guiding Sora back around so that they can make another pass. “Trust me.”

Smiling in a no doubt very stupid manner, Sanji allows himself a few more seconds to stare soppily at the duo before returning to his project. This cake isn’t going to finish itself, and he’ll be damned if any aspect of Sora’s birthday turns out lacklustre.

*****
“I,” Zoro says with extreme gravitas later that evening, “am exhausted. Who the hell knew that little kid’s birthday parties were such hard work?”

Sanji frowns. Birthdays weren’t a thing that was normally celebrated in Germa, and even growing up on the Baratie they’d typically been a pretty quick affair. He’d gotten a cake and some presents, but they’d never done something as extravagant as closing the restaurant for the day.

In contrast, Sora’s party has definitely been one for the record books. By mutual agreement Sanji and Zeff had decided to go overboard, while even Zoro had allowed himself to be dragged along for the ride. The whole day had been a memorable event, such that Sanji can understand why his partner is fading now.

“It‘s definitely been different from anything we ever did on the Sunny,” he finally acknowledges. “But we were all older by the time we were sailing with the crew. Babies just need a more … thorough experience.”

Zoro snorts from where he’s slumped next to Sanji in a chair, their shoulders brushing. “Thorough sure is one way to describe whatever that was,” he says after a moment. “We’re going to be finding bits of cake on him for days.”

“At least we know for certain that the cake was a hit,” Sanji replies, picturing the way Sora had tried to shove his entire face in the thing when it was presented to him. The piece they’d ultimately cut for him had suffered the same fate, and so had any that had been mistakenly brought within his reach.

“He looks so happy, though.” Sanji adds wistfully, watching where Sora’s eagerly crawling after Usopp’s twins. He can hear Kaya telling the girls to be mindful of the fact that the baby is smaller than them, but this doesn’t appear to be dampening anyone’s enthusiasm.

True to form, the Strawhats had arrived in style earlier that afternoon. Loaded down with enough presents that Sanji was surprised the Sunny hadn’t sunk under their weight, the entire crew had descended on the Baratie, and Sora specifically.

From where Sanji’s sitting he can see Luffy making his way through what has to be his sixth tray of food while Patty and Carne look on in horror. Zeff’s with them as well, but he seems more approving of the Pirate King’s appetite than anything else.

Brook’s busted out his trusty violin, and Franky - with guitar in hand - has opted to join him in a duet that seems to be two different songs at once. Heedless of this fact, Usopp and Chopper are leading a confused looking Karoo in a dance, the massive duck shooting beleaguered looks in Vivi’s direction whenever he thinks he can get away with it.

Alabasta’s reigning queen is paying him no mind, however. Rather, she appears to be deep in conversation with Robin and Jinbe, holding a drink in her hand and periodically sending fond glances in the children’s direction.

Out of everybody that only leaves Nami unaccounted for, and the sudden screech of chair legs against floorboards signals her arrival right before she drops down on Sanji’s other side.

“Gentlemen,” she says when both Sanji and Zoro turn to look at her. “How’s your evening going?”

Sanji flashes her his most winsome smile. “All the better now that you’ve decided to grace us with your presence, my dear.” He says, digging his elbow into Zoro’s side when the man makes a gagging sound next to him. “What about you? Is there anything I can get for you?”

In answer, Nami holds up a dessert plate that holds one of the last remaining pieces of cake. “I’m good, thanks,” she says, digging her fork into the slice and taking a dainty bite. “This is delicious by the way. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“It was for Sora.” Sanji says with a dismissive shrug, grunting when Zoro opts to dig his chin into his shoulder in a silent reprimand. “You know I’d never half-ass anything in the kitchen at the best of times, but today it would have been inexcusable.”

“Mhm, of course,” Nami says around another bite of cake. “If there’s one thing you can be sure of, it’s that that baby knows he’s loved. Seeing you guys with him, I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of incredible.”

“Mellorine,” Sanji mumbles, feeling a flush start spreading along the back of his neck. “You’re too kind.”

“Eh, I just call things the way I see them,” she replies. “I’m also really glad to see that you two have finally managed to sort your own shit out. All that pining was getting a little embarrassing. I was afraid I’d have to start cracking heads together.”

“Witch,” Zoro starts, but Nami cuts him off with a wave of her fork.

“Don’t even try it, sword boy,” she says sternly. “There was absolutely pining, and it was very embarrassing. You two are so lucky Sora came along and made you have to actually talk like adults for once. Otherwise god knows where you’d be.”

“That’s only the tip of the iceberg as to why we’re lucky that Sora came along.” Sanji says, and he can feel Zoro nodding next to him. “He’s - yeah. I don’t think I actually have the words to describe it, but he’s a genuine gift.”

“Or a blessing,” Nami says. “Isn’t that what the people from the shrine’s island called it?”

“I believe they did,” Sanji admits, one hand coming up to run through Zoro’s hair. “But my godless heathen here doesn’t like that word, so gift it is.”

“Or treasure,” Zoro chimes in, his eye going half lidded as Sanji keeps up his ministrations. “He’s certainly worth more than any of the gold we’ve brought in over the years.”

“Aww, Marimo.” Sanji shifts to press a kiss to the swordsman’s temple. “Look at you getting all sappy in your old age.”

“Fuck off.”

Laughing, Sanji kisses Zoro again, allowing himself to revel in the unbridled joy of having his family all in one place, celebrating the beloved child he’d inadvertently had a hand in creating. “We did get lucky, though. You can’t deny that.”

“Did you hear me saying we didn’t?” Zoro asks. He nods at where Sora is now sitting on Zeff’s lap, watching Luffy eat with pure fascination. “Of all the crazy shit we’ve seen and done, all the achievements we’ve had, that right there is the greatest one. Hands down.”

“I agree,” Sanji says. “Although it does make me wonder what the next adventure will hold. I feel like this one will be pretty hard to top.”

“Well,” Nami says after a thoughtful pause, “if anyone would be able to come up with something, it’d be you two. I’m sure of that much.”

*****
“I take back what I said earlier,” Zoro says, adjusting his hold on Sora as he lurches up the steps to their quarters. “Now I’m exhausted. How did he have so many hours left in him? It took him so long to pass out, his birthday is actually over.”

“I’m pretty sure we can blame that on all the sugar he’s had,” Sanji mumbles as he trudges along behind them. Mindful of his own tiredness, he keeps one hand on the railing while he walks, wanting to avoid any potential accidents. “I’m also equally sure you and I will be paying for it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably,” Zoro says. “He never does well when his sleep schedule gets messed with.”

Having reached the top of the stairs, the swordsman makes his way over to the room that was once meant to be his and his alone. They’ve since converted it into a proper nursery, and recently transitioned Sora into sleeping in it on his own. Now, Zoro shoulders the door open and flicks the light on as he makes his way inside.

“What do you think?” He asks, glancing at Sanji over the top of Sora’s head. “Do we put him in his crib like this, or do we risk waking him up to get him changed?”

Sanji considers this for a second, but ultimately sighs. “He’s been in that outfit all day, and he’s got more crumbs down his shirt than I care to think about. We’d better change him.”

Zoro makes a face. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Too tired to argue with him, Sanji simply sets about pulling fresh clothes from the dresser, while Zoro does his best to strip Sora down without waking him. He does a decent enough job of it, but the baby still lets out the odd fussy grumble as he’s moved.

“Here, let me,” Sanji says, moving in with the sleeper and a new diaper in hand. “You go toss the dirty stuff.”

Sora’s grumbling gets more pronounced as Sanji works, and he lets out an irate squeak when Sanji runs a wipe over his skin, trying to clean up the worst of the mess. Blue eyes crack open and peer up at Sanji with a distinct look of betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” Sanji murmurs, fighting back a smile in the face of Sora’s unimpressed expression. “I know you’re tired, but it won’t be much longer. I promise.”

Sora huffs, his eyes dropping closed again, and he’s fully back to sleep once Sanji’s finished getting him changed.

Lifting him off the table, Sanji carries him carefully over to his crib, where he lays him out on his back with a blanket sent from Robin tucked around him. Instinctively, Sora reaches for his stuffed tiger, and Sanji spends a moment just unashamedly watching the baby sleep.

He feels movement to the left of him, and Zoro comes to a stop by the crib with his arms resting on the railings. “He’s down for the count, huh?”

“Looks like,” Sanji nods, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sora. “He fussed a little, but nothing to worry about.”

“Cool,” Zoro replies, still with his gaze fixed on Sora. “That dial baby monitor thing that Franky and Usopp rigged up is turned on, so we can leave him be now.”

“In a minute,” Sanji says quietly. “I just - kind of want to watch him for a bit. I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

“Me either,” Zoro admits, his breath ghosting over the shell of Sanji’s ear as he shuffles closer. “This is definitely not where I pictured myself ending up when you found me in that cave that day.”

Sanji laughs at this. “I think I’d have been worried if it was,” he chuckles. “It’s absolutely insane how our lives have played out when you think about it.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Zoro says. “Unexpected, sure, but in a good way.”

Sanji turns to look at him, unsurprised to find that single grey eye staring back at him with a look of fondness. Positive his own face must look equally besotted, he lets himself smile. “You know I love you, right?”

Zoro grins. “You’ve made that pretty clear in recent months, yeah. And you know I love you too.”

“I do,” Sanji agrees. “Just like I also know our son is dead to the world and Franky spent all afternoon before the party installing that soundproofing we asked for.”

In spite of their mutually professed exhaustion, Zoro looks intrigued. “Is that your way of telling me you want to go test it out?”

“Marimo,” Sanji says, leaning in to grab him by the collar. “It’s like you read my mind.”

And Zoro’s answering grin isn’t probably something Sora should witness, so they elect to take matters across the hall before they get out of hand.