A/N: So, I originally didn't want to post this because it's pretty much just a tease, but I like it too much to just let it sit and collect dust : (I've got one more unfinished RP log that I may post later as well, because I am cruel :3 ). This is from an RP that took place about 2 years after the RP from which the rest of this story was pulled. My lovely writing partner reappeared before disappearing again, and we were able to do a bit of writing before he left. Anyway, this takes place not long after the events of the last chapter :x
Robin pricked herself for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past five minutes. Sucking the end of her finger she took an exasperated breath before begrudgingly getting back to work. Honestly, when she had first committed herself to this task she really didn't think it would be so difficult. For crying out loud, this was sewing, not... well, for lack of a better occupation, rocket science. "Never again," she mumbled to herself, almost laughing as she began threading the needle through one of the buttons. Never again would she rip off another inch of clothing if she would be the one responsible for putting it back together. It seemed simple enough at the outset. Position buttons, thread through needle, needle through holes in the buttons, attach to fabric, repeat.
... She was so horribly wrong.
Last one, last one,she thought to herself as she hastily threaded through the last button. (Though careful not to stab herself again)
"There!" Robin held up her work, more relieved than anything else that it was finally done. As she left her quarters for Sanji's, garment in hand, she surveyed it carefully on the way there. ...A few of the buttons didn't quite match up with the holes of their counterparts where they were supposed to be fastened, in fact, a few of the buttons didn't match at all, in particular a very gaudy looking black one she found on the floor of her room.
... Well, it would have to do.
She took a quick breath before folding it up again as she arrived at the men's quarters.
She knocked, twice, quietly.
Sanji's eyes felt heavy, but as soon as he heard that soft knock on the door, he was up and awake. Alert and ready. And for a fraction of a second, Sanji was gripped with the certain fear that he'd overslept, failed to serve his nakama breakfast with a smile and was now the picture of failure.
His eyes fluttered to the wristwatch he kept on him and he almost melted back into the sheets beneath a wave of mumbles and grumbles.
Oh well. Nothing soothed jumpy nerves more than a cigarette and a cup of coffee.
It was then Sanji heard another soft knock at his door.
He rolled up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a beat up tank. It sounded like one of the girls. Zoro never knocked on his door; Luffy liked to barge right in without any sort of warning; Usopp wouldn't knock, he'd whisper at him; Chopper would rat-tat-tat. So when he cracked his door open, he wasn't very surprised to see it was Robin. Instantly, he smiled and opened the door further, ushering her into his room. "Robin-chwan," he said, grinning. "What brings you here?"
He failed to notice what looked like a towel in her arms.
Robin couldn't remember the last time she was in the men's quarters, and she was reasonably sure she hadn't ever been inside Sanji's room before.
So of course the naturally curious and inquisitive Robin's eyes seemed to dance from wall to wall. While much cleaner than she expected, there was still no doubting that this was his domain. It smelled like a cocktail of every spice and herb and oil he used to cook, mixed with the everyday musk of Sanji that she could never quite figure out where exactly it came from-
Focus, focus, she told herself, attempting to silence her ever-vigorous train of thought. As she opened her mouth to speak she realized that this was going to be something of an awkward subject to bring up.
"Well I..." What was she supposed to say? Oh hey, remember that time we were having sex in the kitchen and I suddenly turned insane with lust and ripped your shirt clean off? And then we made confessions of emphatic love? Yea... good times... The shirt. Let's just... talk about the shirt. "I made a ridiculously pathetic attempt at... well, fixing this... I looked everywhere to find those buttons, but some of them still came up missing, you see, so I had to... well find a few extra ones and... Goddamnit, here." With that she hastily thrust the shirt into his arms.
Sanji looked down at what he originally thought was some ratty towel and blinked, sifting through the cloth until he reached a button. And another button. They didn't match. He wrinkled his nose and looked up at Robin almost as if he was about to ask her just what the meaning of this was, and then he quickly shut his big mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was screw up a good thing, even if his woman happened to lack a talent with thread and needle.
Oh well. No one was perfect.
He offered her a lop-sided smile and set his new shirt on a hanger. It looked...sad. Sanji stared at it, a frown twitching on his lips. A moment beat by and he was suddenly very aware that Robin was probably looking for his opinion on it.
"Oh Robin-swan," he said suddenly. Dramatically. Happily. "It's perfect, like you," he turned, smiling at her. He toned down the theatrics and closed the distance between them to plant a kiss on her cheek. "I really appreciate it."
Robin saw all of it.
Every twitch, every flinch, every twinge of shock/disgust, every slight flare of the nostrils; Robin noticed them all.
Sometimes she wished she wasn't so apt at noticing and deciphering the tiniest of details.
Still, as haggard as her little project had turned out, it was still... well, her project. For him. She had spent an inordinate amount of time on that thing, and goddamnit she just... wanted him to like it, as juvenile (an utterly improbable) as that undoubtedly sounded.
That was new.
She wasn't used to caring about ridiculous things like that, it even felt odd thinking of such trivialities to begin with. She shouldn't care about such things, and the fact that she was starting to was, to Robin, a testament to weakness.
What was he doing to her?
Still, she glanced at the shirt in his closet, then at Sanji, then at the shirt once more, and she couldn't help herself:
"You're not going to try it on?"
When she asked him whether he was going to try it on or not, Sanji's face paled. Only in the slightest. Of course, how could he not try it on? That was the right thing to do, wasn't it? Somewhere in a book titled Etiquette.
"O-Of course, Robin-swan," Sanji said, nimbly unhooking the buttons and pulling the sleeves up. He buttoned his shirt down and tucked it in, wearing it like he normally wore his shirts and did a slow spin for Robin. He stopped in front of the mirror and swallowed, wondering how he was supposed to get away with this one. It was too tight around his right arm, too loose around his left and the collar was unbearably itchy. He cleared his throat and faced Robin. "What do you think?"
Sanji could go on and on about Robin and how wonderful, how smart, how clever, how beautiful she was. But he learned that Robin, as powerful and graceful as she was, couldn't quite sew.
Honestly, she wasn't expecting him to actually do it. As thoughtful and well-meaning as he was, she never expected him to actually agree to putting it on, without a word in protest.
It warmed her deeply.
She bit her lip as she watched him put on her abomination, and, after all this time, it still amazed her that there was someone who was willing to be so selfless and kind to her. It was only a shirt, true. But to Robin, there was much more behind it. Slowly, she closed the distance between the two of them, and touched her nose with his. Ignoring the question, she spoke, "Thank you." Her tone was quiet, deliberate, and soft. There was a pause, a silence that was anything but uncomfortable. And she smiled. "... You can drop your impeccable etiquette, dear. I'm aware of what an abomination that thing is," she added finally as she laughed.
He smiled then, pooling in relief, and slipped his arm around her. The shirt was itching something fierce on his neck, but when Robin's warm body was in front of him, her nose pressed to his, there was hardly any attention left for how uncomfortable he was.
Sanji pressed his lips to hers, his tongue slipped briefly over her lower lip, tasting her.
He pulled back with an easy smile, his hand fanned over her lower back, rubbing gently. "Thank you," he insisted, his chin angled down, his eyes bearing into hers. "Would you mind, Robin-chwan?" he held up his hands as if he were helpless. "Undressing me?"
A/N: Aaaaaand I'm sure you guys can use your imaginations from there x]