On the Makings of Serial Killers

"I hate this boat," Nami announces after thirty four hours and sixteen minutes aboard said vessel. Zoro makes a point of snorting and rolling over in his sleep. Luffy just laughs like he finds the two of them uproariously amusing. Nami doesn't.

For suddenly, the oar is in her hand and then Luffy is in the water and Zoro is very awake and very, very pissed off.

"Bitch," He seethes, and starts pulling out one of his katana. Nami gets him with the oar for that, too.

When she's quite sure that Zoro's appropriately busied with saving his, (not her) captain from drowning, she discreetly leans over the side and takes care of some rather pressing problems.

Zoro and Luffy resurface to a considerably more cheerful Nami. Luffy is occupied with laying on the deck and wheezing, his hand over his heart and eyes fairly popping out of his skull. Zoro manages to curse her ancestry back to her great-great-great-great-great aunt between his gasps for oxygen. She awards him ten points for persistence, then docks two for unoriginality.

"Nami," Luffy whines as soon as he's recovered, "What was that for?"

Nami sniffs primly and flounces to the other end of the boat, (which is, admittedly, about five feet away,) to lounge.

She says nothing about the bathroom facilities that their rowboat may or may not have, and the Very Pressing Problem she had endured for nearly five hours.