I do not claim to own or have created any characters, names, or other intellectual properties belonging to One Piece. This is only my hobby, I simply wish for you to enjoy what you read.

1.

"Excuse me sir, but we don't allow pets in the store."

The bigger man turned slowly, and Sanji was startled to see the ugly scar slashing through his left eye. The milky pupil made him uncomfortable as the other unharmed eye glowered at him from beneath the furrowed brow. "He's a service animal."

"Uh... right... uh... I'm so sorry!" Sanji panicked internally as the man's glare darkened. When he'd seen the guy come in the door with his blinding green, slicked-back hair and his massive dog he'd just assumed that he was another shitty druggie off the street. He had to smooth things over or this guy might complain to the manager... and Sanji was already on thin ice with the management. "I-is there something I can help you with?"

He did his damnedest not to stare at that scarred eye as the man turned to look at the rack of clothing to his right. "I need a suit for this weekend. It has to be a good one."

"Right!" Sanji felt the tension ease from his shoulders as he fell back into his routine, "What size are you looking for?"

Sanji was briefly distracted as the fluffy, brown dog shifted closer to his master's leg before sitting with a yawn - revealing an odd, blue tongue and sharp teeth. "I don't really know about sizes and that stuff. I've never bought a suit before."

Looking over the customer's ensemble of a grey t-shirt, faded jeans, and dirty sneakers Sanji certainly believed him. "Okay. Is it alright if I get your measurements then? It will be faster than trying on suits to see what might fit."

"Fine."

Sanji stepped behind the larger man as he pulled out his roll of measuring tape. When the dog stood and curiously sniffed at Sanji's leg, the blonde froze in fear. He'd never been fond of large dogs.

"He won't bite you. His name is Chopper."

"Ch-Chopper...?" The dog looked up at him and wagged his curly tail happily - its blue tongue lolling out over large canines.

"He's a Chow mix. That's why his tongue is that color."

"Is that so?" He had no idea what a Chow was supposed to be, but he had to assume that it was some sort of cross between a dog and a lion with as big as this furry monster was. Sanji smiled weakly down at the dog who responded with a short, friendly bark. Sanji jumped and took a nervous step back.

"Down." The customer snapped his fingers and the dog obediently eased himself onto his belly. "Sorry about that. He likes people."

"It's okay." Sanji moved close again - keeping an eye on the dog, "Can you lift your arms?"

With a grunt of affirmation, the man awkwardly lifted his arms slightly out to the sides. Sanji stepped close and found himself uncomfortably close as he tried to pass the measuring tape around the breadth of the customer's chest. After some uncomfortable hugging, Sanji stepped back and stretched the tape along the back of the man's broad shoulders and from his collar to his waist. Sanji frowned as he pressed the tape along one tan, muscled arm. This guy wasn't going to fit right in any of the suits they had on the rack. He'd need some serious alterations done. With his wide chest, long arms and narrow waist this guy was built like a goddamn model.

Honestly, Sanji would consider flirting a little if this guy didn't have a four-legged monstrosity snoring at his feet.

The blonde's hand tingled pleasantly, his finger brushing warm, fresh-shaven skin as he measured around the man's neck. It really was a shame. If it weren't for the shitty hair-dye and the scar this man would be gorgeous - simply a waste of a good body. Sanji sighed as he rerolled his tape and did the mental arithemetic. "What color do you need?"

The single, clear, brown eye blinked at him as the customer shrugged. "It's for my friend's party?"

"Black is considered better for most formal occasions, but I think a grey might go better with your... hair."

Sanji swallowed as the customer frowned. Why did he always have to say something stupid? When would he learn to think before he let shit fly from his mouth?

"That's fine if that's what you reccommend."

Grinning with relief, Sanji turned to scan the racks. "So this must be a special party?"

"Yeah, my friend plays the lead and the movie broke some sort of box office record. So now she's throwing a shitty party for everyone and she's making me attend. I have to look 'stylish' or she'll be an insufferable bitch all night."

Sanji's jaw dropped. No way. There was only one movie this guy could be talking about... The internet had been buzzing about the sensational movie about two woman lovers that had actually surpassed last year's record-breaking action flick by the same director. Sanji had already seen the film three times. It was his favorite actress in the lead after all. "Are you talking about Nami Swan from The Navigator?!"

The customer eyed him warily. "We grew up together. She acts in all the movies I produce."

But Miss Swan only acted for one director...?

No fucking way. THIS sloppy son of a bitch was the infamously reclusive director and producer Zoro Roronoa? Sanji LOVED his work. No one, NO ONE filmed better romances.

He'd never been more grateful that he lived in New York City.

Nervously smoothing his hair over his left eye, Sanji did his best to look calm and cool, "So you must be Mr. Roronoa?"

The director's broad smile crinkled at the corners of his eyes and wrinkled the thick, facial scar pleasantly. Sanji's heart skipped a beat as the man beamed at him with dimples flashing in his tan cheeks. "You watch my movies?"

"Every one..." Fuck that smile was sexy.

"Would you like to come with me and meet the cast?"

Sanji froze, his eyes widening. "You can't be serious!"

Roronoa shrugged, "You're helping me out with this damn suit. It's the least I can do."

His mouth flapped open and closed a few times before Sanji finally squeaked out a , "Yes, thank you very much," and as he turned toward the racks once more, flustered and shaking he suddenly realized that he'd forgotten every number he'd already calculated. The director's chuckle was warm in his reddening ears as he approached with the measuring tape once more.

"So I'll pick you and my suit up on Friday at five? I'd like to have dinner before the party if you don't mind."

Sanji stared up at the director, completely red-faced, from where he had his arms practically around the man's waist. "Fine! That's fine."

Sanji's heart nearly stopped when those dimples winked at him again. "Good."

This was going to be the greatest weekend of his life!