Note: This is before the crew goes to the Grand Line, before Robin and Vivi and after defeating Arlong. Sneaky Sanji...

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. Sad day...

Written by RedMiko

Seduction

She never notices. Not the extra swirl of frosting, not the extra slice of orange peel, not the careful arrangement that sets her dish apart from the rest. One meal a week contains oranges. But if she notices, he never knows. Each dish, he carefully prepares. The sauces seasoned just so. The molds smooth and unblemished. The meat tender and juicy. The wine a perfect complement. The dessert a delicate sample of sweetness to tease the senses but never fill.

Luffy will eat anything. He eats to be full and he is never full. If he could, he would live on meat alone - and sometimes Sanji wonders if he should just grill steak everyday and be done with it.

Zoro regards food as a invariably interrupting sleep. To sleep, perchance to eat. Food comes in abstract concepts: breakfast, lunch, dinner, and rum. Rum goes with anything. Sanji's pretty sure Zoro and Luffy will die from scurvy if they were allowed to feed themselves.

Usopp enjoys flavor more than the rest - but more along the lines of what he won't eat. He has his favorites (limited) and his most loathed (wide variety). Cooking for him is a challenge - an ordeal by fire as Sanji has to remember what day of the week it is and whether or not the sharpshooting inventor has made up his mind about lima beans yet.

Nami - ah, Nami-san. His secret plan is to ruin her. Seduce her palate. Imprint his cooking signature on her tongue. Make it so that she unconsciously seeks the taste of his cooking wherever else she dines. She never says much when she eats, but he can see the quiet pleasure she takes in each meal. He takes note of her reactions, each minute gesture, watching her eat slowly as she savors one dish, watching her devour her favorites, watching her march through others with an air of mustered courage. He knows her preferred dishes by heart though she has never told them to him. Sometimes she takes an interest when he muses on starting a restaurant. He knows full well she'd only be interested in the money aspect - but he still holds out hope.

Even now, they all sit in port, celebrating their latest treasure haul by having a meal at one of the finest restaurants in East Blue. He watches her slyly as he swirls his wine. She sits, chin in one hand, the other using her fork to pick idly at the food on her plate. To his experienced taste buds, the food is exquisite and he can't help but analyze it, looking for ways to incorporate some of the pleasant but exotic flavors into his own cooking. She, however, finally lays down her fork and sighs, reaches for her glass.

"Not hungry, Nami-san?" he smiles, capturing her glass and pouring more wine. She glares at him and snatches back the glass. He pulls out his best seductive grin, forks a piece of succulent filet mignon and adds a piece of asparagus before gently pushing it towards her mouth. "Would it help if I fed you myself, lovely Nami-san?"

She rewards him with a smack to the head and ignores him the rest of the evening.

But, back on the Going Merry, he sits up on deck next to the door to the galley, smoking and waiting. He knows she doesn't know quite what she's looking for - but he knows what she seeks. So when he hears her stealthy footsteps coming toward him, he smiles and watches the smoke curl to the stars.

"Hungry, Nami-san?"

He hears her curse and in answer, he stands and opens the door, bowing her inside. Within the warmth, there is the table, set and ready for her, the food hot and filling and wholly his own creation. No fine china, no glittering crystal - but his food needs no parade. It is enough that she brushes past without looking at him and sits down. Taking a deep breath, she digs in, avoiding his gaze.

He pulls up a chair across from her, settling in so he can watch her from the corner of his eye - watch as she unknowingly succumbs to him.