Disclaimer: One Piece not mine, don't sue.

Summary: He'd have killed for her, but he still wasn't quite ready to die for her. Zoro, Nami and the most dubious of beginnings.

Small Steps

In Zoro's experience, women are as honorable as men, only in a different way. Perhaps it is Kuina whose memory still influences his judgment of the fairer sex, but Zoro has never deferred to their supposed 'weakness'. Had he been born a woman, he'd have found the double standard offensive and could only imagine that they feel the same way. Friend or foe, man or woman, Zoro believes in respect. He doesn't know what the hell that shitty cook is thinking, slapping the label of 'chivalry' on what Zoro sees as only contempt.

Nami, however, defies Zoro's experience completely. Back before they'd truly accepted each other as nakama, Zoro found the idea of her even sharing a gender with Kuina faintly sickening. She was every cliché about women that he'd despised and tried to avoid believing. She was weak. Not physically, which was perfectly acceptable to Zoro, who almost welcomed such weakness as an excuse to train. No, Nami was weak in intolerable ways. Morally ambiguous, mentally flighty, ill-disciplined. She was loud. Not Luffy loud, which Zoro secretly found (God help the person who ever suggests this, because no earthly being could) refreshing. Nami complained and demanded and made sure her opinions were heard on every subject. They were ignorant opinions. The opinions of a little girl who had never seen death, never suffered, never been forced to put her life on the line for anyone but herself.

She was talented and she kept their ship from drifting off into the middle of nowhere and then capsizing in calm waters (not that this has ever happened to Zoro, of course not), but that was it. That was her sole purpose to Zoro. She might as well have been a high-maintenance, female-shaped log pose as far as he was concerned. Luffy trusted her, but Zoro made allowances for his captain that he could not for himself. Zoro's trust was first earned then kept.

His opinions didn't change when Usopp's voice cracked as he told them how he 'died'. They didn't change when he dimly heard the end of Nojiko's tale. They didn't change when she collapsed in the dirt, the blood running down her arm in crimson strips, the rage and the grief naked on her face. He'd have killed for her at that stage, but he still wasn't quite ready to die for her. Zoro didn't think of himself as a hard man, but it took more than a wounded hand, a childhood sob story and a desperate plea to win his loyalty. He stepped into Arlong Park and risked his life and his swords for his captain, not her.

Nami knew it. The woman was clever, he'd give her that much. They avoided each other generally unless she was fairly certain she could corner him into performing some menial task. Zoro didn't take orders from anyone but the captain and only performed said tasks after Nami understood clearly that his cooperation was anything but obedience. They sailed for months as acquaintances posing as 'nakama' and would have continued for many more had Zoro not chanced upon Nami muttering to herself one night while he was on watch. She was a cat burglar, apparently, but he could have pinpointed her exact position on the deck with his eyes closed in the dark. The fact that he knew she was better than that, but was somehow too agitated to be better than that, piqued his curiosity.

He could just catch snippets of her one sided conversation from his vantage point.

"He wouldn't…we've already…no, they won't…" The tone of her disjointed whisperings sounded odd, a far cry from Nami's strong, clear voice during the day. The words came in hard and fast, almost layering on top of each other at times before dragging out into low hissing exhalations.

Zoro tapped his fingers thoughtfully along the side of his katana sheath and briefly toyed with the idea that she was putting on a show. Nami, he knew, was ruthless and scheming enough. The hitches in her breathing, however, made him rule out that possibility. Nami would have found tears too cheap, too easy and too boring a ploy. Which promptly lead him to frown. She was crying?

He hadn't seen her cry since that day she'd pleaded for help and even then, he knew it cost her to show such vulnerability. As they'd turned away, Zoro had seen how she lowered the brim of Luffy's hat, shading her eyes from them.

What was she crying about now? Hadn't all her problems been solved? Zoro's scowl darkened with his thoughts. That woman really was more trouble than she was worth.

A soft huff distracted him and he craned his head forward from the crow's nest to see the faint outline of their navigator. Her arms were clasped to the side of the ship and from the sheen of dark orange pelt-like hair, Zoro knew that her head was bowed. It seemed he was wrong. Nami was laughing.

The next whispered word he heard clear as day. "Coward."

Zoro's hackles instantly rose, hands instinctively clenching for his swords. But Nami remained motionless and silent. After another long minute in which Zoro battled between irritation and rising confusion, she quietly padded out of sight.

What the hell was that? Who did she think was a coward anyway? Usopp was the obvious answer, but that word had lost most of its sting where the Long Nose was concerned. If it wasn't Usopp, then there was only–

Leaning back against the mast, Zoro closed his eyes.

The next fight (there was always one) saw Nami predictably at the sidelines, shouting directions left and right, staying carefully out of the crossfire. The straggly bunch of pirates provided no real entertainment and was taught an important life lesson – namely that interrupting mealtime aboard the Going Merry was a bad idea. Zoro sheathed his single katana, Sanji retreated back into the kitchen and Luffy turned wide, unblinking eyes on their orange-haired navigator.

"Nami."

If Zoro hadn't immediately zeroed in on Nami's face, he'd have missed it. The flicker of emotion came and went faster than a slash of his blade and blazed just as bright. Having met fear in its every form and degree, Zoro recognized blind terror. He'd seen the same expression on men instants before he ran them through.

"What is it, Luffy?" Her voice was impatient and faintly sulky. Zoro's eyebrows lowered slowly.

"Your cheek." Luffy pointed. "You got hurt?"

Nami's hand flew to the small cut on her cheekbone, effectively hiding the lower part of her face. Zoro had a gut feeling it was to buy time. When she spoke again, her voice was even sharper. "Oh is that all? It's nothing. Honestly, Luffy, making a big deal out of-"

"Warui." Luffy grinned, all teeth and gums and sheepishly curved eyes.

Nami turned around and waved a careless hand. Luffy bounced back into the kitchen to refill the bottomless pit that was his stomach. And Zoro contemplated the twist to Nami's mouth that she thought her slanted profile hid.

Nothing substantial changed between them, but the next time Nami knocked him upside the head for some act of supposed stupidity, Zoro allowed his body to pitch forwards awkwardly and turned around to snap and growl. It was only until Nami smirked at him and made some impotent threats about debt that Zoro grumbled and backed down. It wasn't pity. It certainly wasn't compassion. Zoro had simply drawn another observation about the navigator he was willing to test out. Time would tell whether it could overrule the others.

-end-

warui - my bad/sorry