Honeymoon

"But who would have thought that Usopp was actually right for once?" Sanji asked the ceiling metaphorically.

"C'mon," Zoro said. "We're wasting time.

"Oh no." Sanji folded his arms across his bare chest and stayed firmly planted on the bed. "I am not going outside like this."

"Just because you can't flirt with any of the women doesn't mean that it's a bad island."

"The reason that I can't flirt with any of the women," Sanji pointed out with heavy patience, "is because they've fucking legally classified me as a woman. And given me this damn grass skirt. All because they only allow married couples on the damn island. And I still don't know why I got --"

"Because Nami and Robin got in first," Zoro said, patiently, "and said they were married to the others. Which left you. And me."

"Robin-chan!" Sanji wailed at the ceiling. "Why did you have to claim to be married to Chopper instead of to me?"

Zoro rolled his eyes. "It could be worse."

"How?"

"They could have made me the woman."

Sanji launched himself into a flying kick across the room. Zoro parried it with one of his swords. The walls shook.

"Honoured guests?" someone called from outside. "Is anything the matter?"

"Yes there is!" Sanji yelled. "I'm going to kill this son of a bitch!"

There was a horrified silence from outside, then the sound of scuttling feet.

"Now look what you're doing," Zoro said smugly, avoiding kicks. "Because you're making a fuss, Robin's going to miss her chance to look at those carvings --"

"It's your fault!" Sanji snarled, pinning him to the floor. "Because of you --"

The door burst open. Three waiters, two maids, and a small knot of men waving guitars fought to get into the room.

"What," said Zoro, drawing a second sword where he lay on the floor.

"Horror! Disaster! Shock! Appalled attitudes of self-remonstrance!" wailed one of the maids. "Your honeymoon has come adrift because of lack of attention on our part! Your beautiful wife has been driven to madness because she has not been fully satisfied!"

Sanji curled up and hid his face.

"But we must remedy this!" cried the second maid. "We have brought oysters! Champagne! Chocolate sauce! Men with dramatic and yet romantic music to spur you to heights of passion!"

Zoro smirked. He grabbed Sanji by the ear. "Leave the alcohol. We'll see to the rest ourselves."

"Can't I just die?" Sanji whimpered. "When Nami-swan and Robin-chan hear about this . . ."

"Only one way to make sure they don't," Zoro said. With one hand he secured the bottles of champagne. With the other he slammed the door behind the waiters, maids, and men with guitars. "Give me the best damn honeymoon I've ever had, cook. Or they get the full details."

"Well, if you're going to put it that way." Sanji got up and seized a bottle. "Here's to our first anniversary, honey."

"May we have many more," Zoro said blandly, and ripped off Sanji's grass skirt.

Outside, the guitars struck up a passionate samba.

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