Motivation

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Chapter 2

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By the time dinner rolled around, Sanji was in a slightly better mood. He'd decided that given it was Zoro's precious /swords/ that had been mucked up, it would be up to him to be the bigger man.

He could take their usual bickering and pounding on each other. Hell, he almost enjoyed it sometimes. The flow of tease and
tackle had become so routine it was nearly comforting. But Zoro's newfound sullen bitterness was hard to swallow. He wouldn't even talk to the cook. Even when Sanji did his damnedest by insulting his green-haired nakama's swordsmanship. Zoro had just continued on lifting weights sans reaction, like he hadn't even heard what Sanji had said.

He couldn't explain why, but it was driving Sanji up the wall.

By means of apology, Sanji cooked three of Zoro's favorite dishes for supper. Zoro had never come right out and said it, but Sanji
had noticed that Zoro always looked especially content after eating them, and he'd even fought Luffy for the leftovers on a few occasions.

Pleased with his tactic, he called the crew in to eat.

"Mmmm," Nami said around a mouthful. "Sanji, this is really good."

Luffy nodded his head vigorously around a bulging mouthful.

"Yeah, Sanji!" Usopp and Chopper chimed in.

"Ah, Nami-san is so gracious and kind!" Sanji basked in the praise, but eyed Zoro out of the corner of his eye.

"Zoro, isn't this meal great?" Nami prodded.

Zoro shoved the last mouthful between his lips and got to his feet, scraping off his plate into the sink. "It's food," he said, and left.

Sanji's cigarette nearly fell from between his slack lips. He recovered quickly, turning to the sink and starting the dishes to hide his reaction.

He had /slaved/ all afternoon on that damned meal, and the fucker hadn't said a word! He'd treated it like Sanji had scraped sea-slug residue onto his plate instead of three of the finest dishes ever made!

He scrubbed the plate so hard it broke. Sanji looked in dismay at the shards. There were only so many plates left, thanks mostly
to their captain.

"Uh, Sanji?" Usopp asked tentatively, "You, uh, ok?"

"Fine." Sanji snapped, and shot him a glare that immediately shut him up.

"It was really good, Sanji." Luffy said, his voice quieter than usual.

"Thanks, Luffy."

"Did I miss something?" Chopper asked, tentatively.

"It was delicious." Nami said again, ignoring the little reindeer.

That cheered Sanji up. He beamed at her. "I'm so glad that I could please my beautiful Nami-san," he cooed.

He didn't know why, but it bothered him when she didn't shoot him down. It was almost like she had taken pity on him for something.

Certainly not because the bakayaro was mad at him. That would imply she thought he cared about that dumbass, which was ridiculous. He just didn't like the tension that Zoro's pissiness was adding to their boat.

Why should he care if the swordsman hated him? It's not like they were friends to begin with.

Sanji snorted, not seeing the looks his nakama exchanged behind his back, and returned to furiously scrubbing his dishes.

*****

Sanji woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He couldn't quite remember what happened, but he was left with a general feeling of unease.

He remembered -

Ah, that's right. He'd been trying to woo someone.

He closed his eyes, trying to recall the rest of it. His hands running over firm, bare skin, up strong muscles to trace a smooth jawline, up to bury themselves in soft green hair -

His eyes flew open.

/No, no nonono..../

He took a panicked glance around the room. Everyone was asleep, including the damned swordsman. Sanji swung himself quickly over the side of the hammock and practically ran from the room.

The fact that all the guys were asleep meant that Nami was on watch. He didn't especially want to talk to her, but there was no way he was staying in that room another second. Not after /that/ dream.

He skulked onto the deck and looked around furtively. Seeing no sign of Nami he took a seat on the railing, one leg dangling over the side. He palmed a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, breathing out with a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

Why the hell would he have a dream like that?

He didn't lie to himself. He knew he had tendencies. He also was self-aware enough to realize that it was part of why he tried so hard with women. He needed to prove it to himself, and possibly to the men who'd alternately teased and hit on him back on the
Baratie.

But not Zoro. There was no way. And he /did/ like women. He was in love with Nami. He was sure of it. He'd be devastated if she treated him like Zoro was. Zoro's behavior was just irritating.

But - wait...

Nami /always/ was irritated with him. She was /always/ blowing him off. So why didn't that bother him more?

Sanji ground his cigarette between his teeth.

"Sanji?" The soft question and gentle fall of a hand on his shoulder nearly made him flip overboard.

He spun around, scrambling to stand upright. Nami withdrew her hand. She was regarding him with surprised brown eyes, her red hair blowing gently with the night breeze.

He covered his own surprise with a delighted smile. "Ah, Nami-San! How fortunate! You're awake! I knew you'd want to be alone with me eventually!"

She wasn't buying it. Her countenance darkened. "It's my watch." She stated.

"But, my sweet-"

"Sanji." Nami commanded. "Why are you out here?"

Sanji blanched. "Couldn't sleep."

"Mm." Nami pressed her lips together. "Look, you should just talk to him if it's bothering you that much."

Sanji took a step back. "What?"

Nami frowned. "Look, you're not fooling anyone. Except for maybe that idiot swordsman. You've been sulking ever since he decided to throw his hissy fit."

Sanji worked his mouth a couple of times before anything came out. "I do NOT sulk!"

/Why did everyone keep saying that?/

"Whatever." Nami said, and raised a hand as she turned and walked away. Halfway across the deck she paused, then turned so he could only see one eye, shadowed by her bangs. "And you should stop hitting on me. We both know it's not what you want." She began climbing the ropes to the crow's nest.

Sanji's cigarette fell from his lips unnoticed.

Of all the things she /could/ have said, somehow she had chosen the most hurtful. His precious Nami-san. He'd tried his hardest to win her, and after everthing he'd done it hadn't even mattered.

If he couldn't convince /her/ that he wanted her, how could he convince himself?

Sanji stepped on his cigarette, then went to sleep in the galley.
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