Well, it is never my intention to leave anyone hanging for an unreasonable period of time, but it has unfortunately been a habit for me lately. So, with that, I'm gonna try and get this done...I hope you all enjoy reading it.

I do not own One Piece.

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Shameless X

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Steel broke the air with a sharp hiss, a few nearby birds squaking as they flapped away through the empty grove. The man swung his sword a second and third time, the force increasing with each iteration. Sweat was pouring down his face, pooling around his collar-bone before dripping down his bare chest.

Zoro was grunting loudly as he slashed at the empty airspace around him, the afternoon sun shining golden into the small clearing he stood in. He had pulled his shirt off long ago, tossing it down on the soft green grass several feet away. He had been practicing there for hours, feeling no need to hurry back to the ship. Nami had assured the crew that it would take at least two days for the logpose to set at this tiny island and nobody had uttered a complaint. This was by far the most peaceful place they had been to in some time and everyone had been eager to explore the small port village where the Going Merry was docked...that is, everyone but Zoro.

The green haired man had not been especially eager to get lost in another stupid little town, instead heading straight for the lush green hills rising up next to it. From the small clearing he stood in, he could see out over the village to the ocean--that would make it way easier to find his way back to the ship, later on, and the man was well aware he needed all the help he could get in that department.

Zoro gave an involuntary huff of exhaustion, pausing in his exercises to walk over to the nearby ledge. The clearing sat on the edge of a sharp drop, the trees ending abruptly...perhaps a previous landslide had occurred there? He mulled it over silently as he leaned an arm against one of the nearby tree trunks, staring out past town to where he could make out the Merry bobbing slightly in the harbor. His tanned fist clenched around the hilt of his katana as he stared out at it. He could feel his eyebrows furrowing as Sanji's face appeared in his mind. Damn cook.

Several days had passed since Zoro had last spoken to the blonde, most of which Sanji had spent in bed with a fever. Almost immediately after they had returned to the ship covered in disgusting plant nectar, the chef had developed an illness bad enough for Chopper to confine the man to his hammock indefinitely. The blonde hadn't cooked a single thing in all that time, much to the chagrin of the crew. They had been at sea for the past three days without eating anything close to the chef's normal gourmet meals and it had left everyone (especially Luffy) in a pretty foul mood.

The swordsman hadn't particularly cared, however. Even if Sanji had been cooking, the green-haired man wouldn't have been eating it. He wasn't angry per se and was aware of this, yet he really didn't want to deal with the blonde. He didn't want to see that look on Sanji's face anymore, nor did he want to feel that he owed the blonde anything. A meal was hardly a favor, being that Sanji was the official chef of their pirate crew, but Zoro would've hated to take anything at all from the man at this point.

The former bounty hunter had stared death in the eyes multiple times in the past weeks, each and every time being pulled back by Sanji. It was starting to damage his pride, frankly...especially when the green-haired man had learned just what had been motivating the other man. Maybe Zoro would have never even gotten into those situations if not for that shit-cook aggravating him so thoroughly at every turn. And they were nakama, so of course they should be putting their necks out for each other when necessary...but that wasn't why the cook had been doing it. Sanji was looking out for Zoro because he cared about him in some deeper way, a way that brought a deep frown to the swordsman's tanned face. And if Zoro accepted and recognized these favors, it was as good as returning the cook's feelings. That was not a statement the swordsman particularly wanted to make, especially not so lightly.

Zoro shifted his weight off the tree trunk, turning away from the cliff and stepping back into the small clearing. He bent to pick up his shirt, noticing that it was no longer in the spot which he had left it. His eyes were instead trailing up the leg of a pair of perfectly creased black slacks to a pink pinstriped shirt. He felt a frown forming on his face as his brow furrowed, his gaze darting away briefly before he straightened up and looked Sanji in the eye.

The blonde looked a little sunken in the eyes, still pale from laying in bed so long. His shirt sleeves were rolled hastily to his elbows and his shirt was not tucked as neatly as usual. One hand was in the pocket of his slacks; Zoro's thin shirt dangled in the loose grip of the other. A cigarette was wedged in the thin line of his lips, a trail of smoke snaking up past his dull gaze and his hair hanging limply around his face. And the blonde said nothing. He just stood there, staring, with his curled eyebrows unmoving.

Zoro still had Wadou Ichimonji in his tight grasp, hanging by his side. He unconsciously gripped his free hand into an annoyed fist as he stared out at the blonde man. He tilted his head slightly, the man's three golden earrings jangling quietly as he let out an irritated grunt. A breeze rushed by, ticking his bare chest.

"Give me my shirt, cook."

Sanji's expression did not change.

"...Or what?" he asked quietly, cigarette clenched in his teeth as he spoke.

Zoro continued to frown, sheathing his katana with a hiss of steel before turning to walk back to town. He could feel Sanji's intense gaze burning into his bare back, knowing that this was not the answer the chef had wanted him to give...the man was surprised to feel the item of clothing hit him in the back of the head, making him stop short and glance back over his shoulder.

"Hey, you bastard...!" Sanji was growling angrily, fist clenched weakly in front of him. "You forgot something!"

The green-haired man just narrowed his eyes, uninterested in letting himself be baited by his crew mate. There was a few tense moments of staring between them before Sanji exploded.

"Why don't you ever fucking say anything?!" he cried, throwing his arm out to the side for emphasis. "Are you even a human, you cold-hearted piece of shit?!"

The green haired man almost smiled at this but instead held back, keeping his face impassive.

"Decide for yourself."

This comment nearly sent the blonde reeling.

"I already have," he shot back. "You hate me but you save my life...and you hate me for saving your life," the blonde told him, pinching his cigarette tensely in two fingers as he spoke. "You're an insufferable bastard!" Zoro's eyebrows raised.

"...So then what are you so upset about?"

He was quiet for a moment before sighing audibly.

"...I don't know," the blonde conceded, taking a few shaky steps to lean against a nearby tree. Zoro shifted uncomfortably, seeing that the blonde was too weak to have walked all the way out here and then picked a fight. His days in bed had done nothing but torment him, apparently--not that the green haired man had even spared him a passing glance in all that time.

In truth, the swordsman didn't even understand Sanji's objective. The blonde seemed like he was so confused about everything that Zoro almost wanted to write-off the cook's single, renegade embrace. Yet at the same time, the cook seemed to be so intense and sincere that it made the bounty hunter's muscles stiffen. The man grunted annoyedly, clenching his fist.

"What the hell do you even want from me, cook?!" he finally exclaimed, making the blonde glance up in surprise.

"...I..." he trailed off, staring listlessly at the other man. "...I want you to give a damn."

"What?" the swordsman spat, face betraying his incredulity. "...You hate me! And I hate you! We spend all of our time insulting each other! Why do you even care what I think?"

"Because--!" Sanji burst out, struggling to explain himself, "...because I do give a damn! And I don't know why..."

The blonde had a hand to his chest, as though he were wrestling with his own feelings. Zoro, however, could not drop his raised eyebrows, nor relax the deep creasing of his brow. The swordsman did feel conflicted, as it was impossible for anyone to not feel at least slightly conflicted in the face of such strong emotions. But at his core, Zoro felt annoyed. The green-haired man did not like other people's feelings. He really didn't even like his own feelings, though he had already come to terms with the fact that he had to put up with them once in a while. And all he really wanted was for the cook to just drop all this nonsense.

"Cook," he began, making the blonde raise his downcast gaze. "We're nakama. Of course I'm going to try to save your life. I'd do that for anyone of our crew." He crossed his arms against his bare chest, making sure to look Sanji directly in the eyes as he continued. "But I can't change who I am, so I don't know why you want me to so badly."

The blonde seemed slightly struck by this comment, as though Zoro had just stated the chef's secret fears and doubts out loud.

"As long as we're crew mates, I'm stuck standing by you," he admitted, "...and maybe one of these days I'll stop wanting to kill you every time you open your mouth. Until that day comes, stop acting like such a moron."

Sanji exhaled a soft puff of smoke, the expression on his face letting Zoro know that his words had hit their mark. He did not look disappointed, exactly...the blonde looked like he was learning something.

"I don't want you to change who you are..." Sanji began again, distractedly flicking some ash from his cigarette. "I guess I was just hoping that you were the person I thought you were."

"Well I don't know," Zoro admitted, resting his hand on the hilt of Yubashiri as he spoke. There was a small clinking of steel as his three katanas shifted slightly. "...This is gonna be a long voyage. Maybe one of us will change our minds."

"Maybe it'll be you, moron!" Sanji shot back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at his crew mate's disinterest in their conversation. Zoro just gave him a sidelong stare, then shrugging as he turned away.

"Maybe, maybe not," he grunted, beginning to saunter back down towards town.

"Hey, I'm not done talking to you, bastard!" Sanji shouted after the green-haired man's retreating form, sweat-droplets still glistening on the tanned skin of the swordsman's bare back. Zoro only ceased his stride when he heard the cook begin to wheeze slightly, glancing back to see the blonde doubled over with his hands on his kneecaps.

"What are you doing now?" the swordsman inquired gruffly, crossing his arms. Sanji hoisted himself upright once more, revealing the redness of his cheeks and his sweaty brow. He was clearly having a relapse of whatever terrible fever he had been suffering for the past few days. The blonde was looking a little glazed over, swaying slightly from side to side.

"Hey," Zoro growled, "...You're the one who followed me all the way out here, so don't act sick."

The blonde frowned, though his eyes were not exactly focusing on the other man's face. And he pitched forwards without warning, Zoro watching with an annoyed wince as the blonde hit the ground. He grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed, as he crouched down and shook the man's shoulder.

"Cook..." he tried. "Hey."

He rolled the blonde over, seeing that the man's eyes were open but nobody was home.

"...Don't touch me...you bastard..." he managed slowly, voice sounding tired. Zoro just frowned deeper.

"Ok, let's go," he grunted, hauling the blonde up by one of his limp arms and hoisting the cook's thin body over his shoulder.

The swordsman began to trudge down the dirt path, back down to the village below. He hefted the cook's body once more as he walked, sensing the man he was carrying was made even more faint by being upside-down...but the green haired man had no particular problem with this. It would probably keep the blonde quiet on the way back to the ship. Zoro had no desire to talk about anymore of the other man's confused, sentimental ramblings. He would just have to deal with them as he went along, on a case by case basis.

Who knew, maybe the two of them could figure it out someday.

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OK...this was another hard one to write. I tried to let it go naturally (as usual) rather than directing it a certain way...and honestly I can't really imagine these two characters getting together, exactly, but I liike the idea of the conflict. But who knows how this story will continue? I'm not sure I will write anymore or not so I am gonna leave it open-ended, just in case I get really inspired. I hope I'm not disappointing anybody, I just don't feel like I should write lame bullshit if I have no ideas at all. So thank you for reading, everybody, because all the interest in this story is really encouraging. Till next time.