Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece

Not edited. Chapter Seven.

Recap: Sanji, Nami and Zoro go through with their drinking bet. Everyone is drunk and Zoro puts everyone to bed before retiring in the guest room.

Hangovers

Waking up in the guest room was disorienting the next day. For a few minutes, Zoro wondered if he was dreaming. He hadn't slept in this room in a long time. In a very long time. Part of Zoro wanted to flee and never return. The other part wanted to bury itself in the quilts and never get out.

Somewhere downstairs, Zoro could hear movement. Sanji was already awake, and judging from the lack of swearing, probably talking to Nami. He couldn't picture either Usopp or Luffy as early risers, and Zoro had a feeling both Nami and Sanji were nursing hangovers from last night.

He'd have to thank Johnny later on for that.

Zoro stared at the room, with it's hollow echoes ringing around him. Closing his eyes, he pictured his childhood for a moment. The endless nannies. The emptiness. The lack of colours and movements and just the boredom of living.

And then she came.

The world became bright and beautiful. She gave him a sword. A real live sword, and told him to swing it. And the world spun round and round, as she laughed, correcting his hold. Telling him to swing higher or lower, adjusting his stance.

And then she was gone.

Zoro stood up, feeling a little lost and shaky at the end of that dizzying moment. He shouldn't be thinking like that, not after having such a good night with... these people. What did he call them? Friends? That seemed to shallow. Friends were backstabbers and liars and it was a paltry word to attach to paltry relationships. Friends changed colour as quickly as the sky did at dusk.

Best friends?

Zoro cringed at the title. Best friends implicated a confessions and secrets and mutual understanding fostered by similar interests. Zoro had nothing in common with these people. He disliked Nami and Sanji on most days, and adored them on others, but he'd be the last person to suggest that he had anything in common with either of them. He liked Usopp and Luffy, but never enough to talk about his problems with either of them.

And he didn't really believe those two had secrets or shit that they'd come to him with. Luffy was just too loud to be secretive. He was the type to lay his soul bare and not be judged for it. Usopp was similar. His secrets were written in his lies. Conversely, Nami and Sanji kept secrets. Zoro recognized that. And he didn't want to know their secrets. There was something gross about trying to know everything about those two. But that didn't mean he didn't like them.

Whatever.

It was too early in the morning to be introspective.

Zoro climbed out of the bed, and with a last glance to the room, exited to his bathroom. A quick brush of his teeth that had been impeded by his slight sensitivity to light. Normally, Zoro would train off the hangover, but he had guests now.

Fuck he hated having friends.

With a grimace, Zoro lumbered downstairs towards the kitchen.

As predicted, Sanji looked dead on his feet. The cook was a pasty white colour, and there was an air about him that suggested vomit. Also, Zoro had just cleaned up a missed spot of puke on the toilet rim. Sanji was wrapped up in Zoro's duvet, looking like the sick kid he'd been the other day as his hand moved very slowly to slice the tomatoes. Judging from the egg batter, he was probably making breakfast.

In contrast, Nami was looking mostly better for the wear. She had sunglasses on, probably for the light sensitivity, and her hair was an absolute mess. Unlike Sanji's blond fluffy mop of bed-hair, Nami's bob stuck out in odd places, but the red-head wasn't too bothered. It probably helped that she was nursing a mug of coffee.

"Hungover?" asked Zoro to both of them.

"Speak quietly or get out," groused Sanji in a mere whisper, pulling the duvet closer around him. The stove-top coffee finished, and Sanji plodded over slowly, all the while muttering profanities to Zoro's liver, and then there was a cup of coffee thrust into his hands, while Sanji refilled his own cup.

"Need any help?" offered Zoro, gesturing to the vegetables.

"Fuck your liver. I hope you die from alcohol poisoning and your liver shrivels up into a tiny speck of dust before exploding, shitty moss-headed spongy-liver asshole," snapped Sanji, returning to the extremely slow pace of chopping the tomato.

Zoro knew when to back down from a fight. Instead, he turned to Nami and raised an eyebrow. Why wasn't the woman helping? Did she plan on staying for dinner?

"He won't let me help," replied Nami wryly, "I'm really not that much of a bitch, y'know."

"Quiet voices please, Nami dear," groaned Sanji, "I think I'm going to be sick."

And then with a speed that Zoro hadn't predicted he could move at, Sanji was barrelling to the bathroom. Zoro watched him go, trying and failing to create a proper reply to this display. It wasn't funny. It was so not funny.

His lip twitched.

"Get it out," said Nami suddenly, "Laugh it up and then go hold his hair while he pukes like a good little friend."

Zoro's laughter died as he stared at Nami's sparkly brown eyes, beaming at him as though she knew just what she was implying. Zoro glared at her hotly, trying and failing to create an appropriate response to how much he despised her.

"You'd charge me for laughing," replied Zoro tersely.

"A mere 5 beri per second," chirped Nami honestly, "And if you ever want to get anywhere Mr. Demon of the East Blue, I'd go get a move on. And just because you placed a blanket over me last night, I won't even charge you for the advice. Consider us even."

It was dirty, underhanded and all about making sure that Zoro realized Nami owed him nothing if he took that advice. Damn it. Now he respected her for it.

"Chop the fucking vegetables," replied Zoro as he grumpily moved to make sure Sanji was keeping his stomach inside his body.

"It'll cost ya," sang Nami, though she was already moving the tomatoes in front of her.

Damned woman.

Sanji was not prone to over-exaggerations. He always stated exactly what he felt. And that was why he was glaring furiously into the toilet, now drenched in vomit, as he wiped his mouth with a towel. Standing up, he turned to see Zoro in the doorway, standing in a black-wife beater and grey fleece track-pants, looking like a big tough green-haired punk that wanted to be smashing something instead of showing concern.

"M'fine," replied Sanji easily, glowering back at the green, sloppy chunks of puke, "My stomach's done revolting."

"Did you throw up everything you ate yesterday?" blurted out Zoro, staring at the toilet and then Sanji, as though trying to figure out the logistics of where the food came from.

"Seriously, I'm fine," groused Sanji, "This isn't even a big deal, lemme clean up and then I'll finish breakfast. You didn't leave Nami-swan alone, did you?"

Zoro didn't even comment on the nickname. There was no teasing, as he eyed Sanji, worry echoing in the lines of his dark face, eyes narrowed in a glare that seemed to be specifically for situations that caused him concern.

Sanji shifted on the balls of his feet, unsure why that stare was so unsettling.

"Get out," said Zoro finally, "I'll clean this shit up. Go cook something idiot."

Even the insult was half-hearted. Sanji gaped at Zoro's open concern for him. Why that fucker! He wasn't even dying. This was seriously not the worst thing that could happen. Sure it was waste to throw up a good meal, but he wasn't some pansy-ass that needed to be babied.

Zoro was stepping into the bathroom, and Sanji's anger and embarrassment at Zoro displaying open concern caused his body to move before Sanji could stop it. His leg struck out, banging Zoro in the chest with a straight forward frontal kick, using his heel to deliver the majority of the force. Zoro was completely unprepared for the attack, and ended up stumbling backwards, straight out of the bathroom door.

He was gaping at Sanji, clutching his chest almost absently, as though the pain was an afterthought to the realization that Sanji had just kicked him. And kicked him well.

"What the fuck was that shit-cook?" asked Zoro, gawping like a moron.

Sanji felt somewhat smug, realizing that Zoro had completely underestimated the strength Sanji's legs carried. He was Zeff's kid, and Sanji wasn't just anyone after all. From his pocket, Sanji pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, grinning as he cupped the flame to the white stick already prepped between his lips.

"I can take care of myself asshole," replied a smug Sanji, blowing out a plume of smoke from his grinning lips, "Now get out."

"Show me how to do that!" demanded Zoro, staring now at Sanji's legs as though they had suddenly turned into diamonds, "Fuck- Was that the strongest you can kick or can you do it stronger? Can you do it faster? What technique was that? What happens if you used your toes- What if you wore shoes and did that?!"

Sanji stopped smirking.

Zoro had a gleam in his eye, a dangerous look he got only when Cabaji came up with a new technique that was both underhanded and seemed more suited to a circus. It was Zoro's 'I-have-a-new-challenge' face. Usually, that look meant Cabaji was going to get his ass handed to him by Zoro. Sanji liked his ass where it was, thank you very much.

"Can you kick higher?" murmured Zoro, lost in a world where Sanji got the shit whacked out of him because Zoro wanted a fucking challenge. Yeah fucking right. If Zoro even took another step, Sanji was going to shove his foot up Zoro's ass so far that the green-haired bastard would puke up his own guts.

"I hate you," announced Sanji, before slamming the door shut in Zoro's face.

Well. That went well.

Zoro was grinning like an idiot as he returned to the kitchen. Who knew the cook could kick like that?! Oh he had to get the cook to try that against him. Maybe he could use his swords- but could the cook block that? Obviously Sanji had good aim. He'd thrown plenty of things before at Zoro. Could those chicken arms have a hidden strength? Could he get Sanji to arm wrestle-

"Did you end up making out? Please tell me that he at least brushed his teeth and it wasn't the taste of vomit that has you so turned on," interrupted Nami, her smirk planted wide on her face.

"He kicked me," announced Zoro, still too excited to let Nami ruin his mood, "And it hurt! He kicks really fucking hard!"

Nami blinked at Zoro. Then, deciding it wasn't worth her time, she returned to chopping the tomatoes.

When Sanji returned to the kitchen, he automatically took over the chopping, scolding Zoro for making Nami do any of the work. Zoro was still too elated to let Sanji's fawning get to him. Sanji had a kick stronger than Cabaji! Who knew that the challenge he needed was standing right there all along? And Sanji didn't hold back or get distracted like Luffy did if Zoro asked him to train. Sanji would whoop his ass.

He had to get Sanji to train with him.

Unfortunately, the smell of bacon caused Luffy to come charging downstairs, followed by a disgruntled Usopp and then eggs were served and breakfast was on. It was strange how easily everyone settled into their roles. Nami had a fruit smoothie, made with tangerines specifically suited to her taste, and Luffy had a mountain of bacon and sausage, while Usopp had a mushroom-free omelet. Zoro himself was served omurice. When had the cook figured out their tastes?

As Zoro watched Sanji flounce around the kitchen, while Luffy tried to steal the ham Sanji was cooking into an omelet for Usopp, Zoro couldn't help but feel a strange sense of contentment.

Honestly, I meant to update this a lot earlier, but I just never finished writing it. But now I'm back on track with this fic, and I'm trying to get updates more stable. Expect them on the weekends, since that's when I don't have school biting me down. Otherwise though, this is the fic. And thank you to all the reviews and follows and faves! Thank you for this!

And I have the first six chapters beta-ed by the lovely xhellobeautifullx on Tumblr, also known as loveoutloud3 on . She's also writing a collab fic with me called Fishy Situation, which you can find on her site if you're interested, though it also lacks the same updates that this fic does. Hopefully my schedule will be clearer in a few months.