Sanji knew he'd seen this guy somewhere, but at the moment, he was more concerned that anyone passing by would misconstrue the… well, he supposed it could have been considered a rescue, for something it wasn't. His wrist wrapped tightly in the unusually warm hand, pinned over his head against the sparkly black wall of the nightclub he'd managed to find himself in tonight. Their bodies inappropriately close, the irritated scowl he was currently receiving – it all suggested something he most certainly didn't want anyone at this club, especially the ladies, to misunderstand.

"Let go already, he's gone."

"What the hell were you doing, you idiot? You're drunk as fuck and if I hadn't bothered to follow in there after you-"

"You were following me?"

"I just happened to notice that puss bucket tailing you all night. If you weren't so trashed, you would have noticed too."

Sanji pushed the slightly larger man off. "You gonna lecture me for being drunk in a club? You saved my ass, so thanks or whatever. We're done here."

He swaggered back to his table.

"What took you so long?" Ace asked, almost accusingly.

Sanji sidled up to the lovely blond next to Ace.

"…There was a fight outside the bathroom. Bouncers had to break it up."

He wasn't about to admit in front of anyone that he'd almost been raped in a dirty bathroom stall by a smelly, abnormally large fat man missing some teeth. Or that he'd been saved by some green haired guy whom he still couldn't remember where he knew him from.

Sanji was used to hangovers – he was a chef. About the only time he wasn't expected to show up at work at 6 am with a hangover was Tuesday. The hangover from Sunday would still linger through Monday night, so no one ever partied Monday night, usually ensuring that the majority of the staff was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and sober by Tuesday morning.

An affliction that was usually remedied by Tuesday evening .

So the usual symptoms were no bother to him. No, what made him so distracted while going about his morning routine – taking stock of what was in the walk-in, coming up with a lunch special, going over the reservation book, among a slew of other things -as fluently as he normally did, was trying to piece together what had happened the night before. He hadn't managed to make it home with any of the ladies he had attached himself to, but he suspected that he wouldn't have been able to show 'em a very good time anyway.

And frankly, rather than disappoint, he'd prefer to go without.

When Ace finally showed up looking as fresh and smart as usual to start taking down chairs in the front, Sanji gave him the usual grunt. He wouldn't have time to shoot the shit until well after 2 pm. The breakfast crowd would be in soon, and though the other cooks had arrived and by now were already toiling away at their stations – roasting bones for stock, heating sauces, cutting filets, slicing calves' liver, too many things to name – one of them hadn't shown up yet, so Sanji was doing double time with two different stations.

He could only speculate on what Gin's excuse would be this time. Would he fire him? No. He'd scream at him, mentally and perhaps physically break him down just to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. But then he'd throw the dipshit's apron at him, and Gin would pick it up, put it on, sulk like a mother fucker, and then get to his station and start whippin' out orders like lightning.

They'd go out for drinks later that night.

The other waiters finally showed up, and Sanji figured that maybe two of the seven were worth the money he paid them. Kaku was good; a very calm guy under pressure. He was immaculate with knowing the menu – thus helpful in avoiding mis-orders – and the customers liked him. Franky was good too; he knew exactly how to get along with difficult people, the staff and the customers, and he was up for anything after hours. Coby could go either way – either he'd toughen up and turn out pretty good, or he'd buckle under all the screaming and harassment he got back in the kitchen. So that one was a toss up. The rest? He didn't even bother to remember their names.

The bus boy was late again. He'd never get why the old wind bag – the owner, Zeff – didn't fire that dumbass monkey. He broke a good five or six dishes a day, constantly filched food from the kitchen, and was a damn nuisance. He supposed it had something to do with how no one could say no to him. Not even Sanji.

Noon came.

"Carne, where the fuck is that lamb plate? Do I need to go back there, bend you over the grill and fuck you in the ass while doing it myself? Because I'm pretty sure I could get that plate out here faster while doing that than you can on your own!"

"Don't know how, chef, if you've got no dick! I'm waiting on Patty, who apparently came to work today with no fucking arms or legs! S'only reason I can think of for why he's being so god damned slow today!"

"I got it, keep your ass on! You want this done right, you wait!"

"Not in my kitchen you pimple-faced, dickless fag! Move your ass or I'll rip your balls off and serve them with the special!"

Things continued at a pretty decent pace until two thirty rolled around, and Sanji immediately went out back for a smoke. Ace joined him around three.

"The front done?" Sanji sat on a crate and sucked on his cigarette, letting feeling slowly return to his feet.

"Yeah, I sent Luffy across the street."

"Good call." That would keep the sticky fingered bastard out of the stores.

"So what the fuck happened to you last night?" Ace pulled up his own crate and sipped on a coke.


"You were bullshitting about the fight, man. You looked pale as shit. You get sick or something?"

"Nah, I just got roughed up in the bathroom by an ugly mother fucker. I was fine."

"Whaddya mean, 'roughed up'?"

"It's nothing to flip your shit about, I was fine. Some guy helped me out. I was shit faced, so I probably just looked it."

They were quiet for the next ten minutes, enjoying the brief time they had before Ace had to return to the mountain of dishes and Sanji had to get back to the prep work for the evening rush.

"Where do I know a green haired guy from?" Sanji finally asked. He'd figured he would remember where he knew that guy from once he was sober, but nothing had come.

"You mean Zoro?" Ace asked, eyebrow raised.

"I dunno. He was the guy who helped me at the club last night. Short green hair, tan, muscles. About the same height as me."

"Three gold earrings?"

"Dunno. It was dark."

"Sounds like him. Though, it doesn't sound like him to be at Merry's Night Club."

"But where have I met him before?"

Ace scratched his chin. "I guess you probably saw him with Lucci."

"Lucci? Bartender Lucci? Where?" Sanji asked incredulously. Lucci was one of the most badass mother fuckers he knew – the righteous prig he met last night would not be hanging out with the Baratie's bartender, whom Sanji highly suspected of being involved in organized crime.

"Lucci's other bartending job. Zoro bounces at Skypeia. Yeah… actually, remember? We went there a few weeks ago, and he and Lucci fucked those guys up real good-"

"Oh!" Sanji crowed, suddenly remembering. There had been a group of punks starting some shit with a rival gang. He didn't know anything about the gangs, but it had finally come down to Lucci handling six or seven guys at once, while Zoro had dragged some bald-headed, long eared weird ass guy outside to whoop the shit out of him. It was pretty epic, since they both seemed to know martial arts of some sort.

But… for some reason, he remembered that when he saw Zoro last night, it almost seemed like déjà vu. He'd been reminded of some place that flickered in and out of his mind, and he knew it hadn't been the parking lot of Skypeia.

"Dunno. Feel like I've seen him somewhere else too."

Ace shrugged. "Why? Gonna send him a thank you card for saving your skinny ass?"

Sanji dropped his cigarette and stood up, stretching.

"Kinda wanted to kick his ass. He tried to lecture me afterwards about not being careful or some shit. I guess I owe him though."

Any miscellaneous thinking was immediately pushed from his mind as Sanji started in for the dinner rush. He only barely had time to wave a cheerful welcome to the only members of the wait staff that he actually liked, Nami and Vivi. The rest of the time was spent slaving over the grill station. Gin had finally showed up, so he was at full staff, and they were a well enough greased machine that he trusted everyone to do their job.

The Baratie on a weeknight could easily do around 250 meals, which was pretty respectable. There was an event at the museum several blocks away, so they were crowded that night and probably did around 330. Lucci would be pleased, he was sure.

Luffy managed to make it through the night with only three ceramic victims under his belt, and even the more idiotic members of the wait staff were holding their own. He couldn't have asked for it to have run any smoother.

He'd leave inventory for the morning when he had his meeting with Kalifa, the Baratie's manager.

Gin actually had plans that night, so they'd have to get drinks another time. As for the rest of them, tonight they were skipping the nightclubs and heading straight over to Water 7, their favorite bar. Everyone knew everyone, the lights were dim, the booze and the music were good; it was the perfect place to head after a busy night when no one had the energy to shower and put on nice clothes for a night club.

As soon as Lucci was done putting in his tips, he, Ace, Sanji, Kaku, and Franky headed out into the humid evening darkness. It was a 20 minute walk to Water 7, but it'd go quickly.

"How were tips tonight, Lucci?" Sanji asked. It was always a good idea to keep your bartender happy, even if he was only part-time. Always. Eventually he'd find another job, but if you were good to him, he'd happily give you free drinks at his new gig.


Sanji nodded. Lucci was a stoic guy. It had taken Sanji a while to figure out if he liked him or not. He hardly every laughed or smiled and, when he did, it was usually something to do with violence. But he was a damn good employee, and more importantly (at least to Sanji's testosterone laden mind) he could kick major ass. When he told a customer they'd had enough, they hardly ever argued.

"Got a couple of friends meeting us at Water."

Sanji raised his brow. He didn't know Lucci had friends, though he and Kaku seemed to know each other from somewhere.

"Supa!" Franky crowed. "The more the merrier. Though, gotta admit, Lu, if they're as quiet as you, I might have to pull out the old guitar and strike a few chords to keep the party goin'! Ow!"

Only a man as oblivious as Franky would have the guts to call Lucci 'Lu', but Lucci didn't respond.

Water 7 was pretty well full when they got there, but the bartender opened up some tables in the back for them, since they were regulars. They pulled up some more chairs to the booth, and Kaku went to open their tab and order the drinks.

"So where's your crew?" Ace asked.

"Brook had a gig that got out half an hour ago, so they should be here in a bit."

"A gig? Like a musician?" Sanji asked, lighting a cigarette.

Lucci nodded. "Jazz musician."

Sanji 'hm'd'. "As long as the word 'experimental' doesn't pre- or proceed. Hate guys like that."

"No kidding," Ace grinned. "Spoons on water is not an instrument."

"Whatever soothes your soul, man. I happen to have my guitar and my manliness, but if spoons on water is what I was good at this week, I'd still rock it. Ow!"

"Is Jyabura coming?" Kaku asked Lucci as he came up with a few drinks in hand.

Lucci nodded. "Think so."


A group of guys walked in the door, and Lucci nodded and Kaku waved.

A tall, skinny, white guy with the biggest afro Sanji had ever seen, a guy with a sinister looking goatee and long braid, and… the guy from last night.

Ace laughed and elbowed him. "Look, it's your knight in shining armor!"

Sanji glared. "Shut the hell up."

"What are you talking about?" Lucci asked.

"Zoro saved Sanji's ass last night at Merry's when he got roughed up in the bathroom."

The corner of Lucci's mouth might have twitched. Sanji doubted the man's eyes could twinkle, but something like amusement definitely flickered. It was unsettling.

"I was drunk, alright? Don't fucking bring it up. Maybe he won't remember."

"He will," Lucci said simply.

The group that just came in ordered their drinks at the bar and helped Kaku carry the rest back.

Sanji glanced at Zoro, who nodded at him. Sanji nodded back, then quickly got to the business of drinking. This was not what he needed right now.

It wouldn't have been such a big deal if it really had just been that Sanji was roughed up in the bathroom in a drunken fight. But that very much was not what happened. And Zoro did know what happened, and the chef didn't know if Zoro was going to keep quiet about it or not.

"So which one of you is the musician?" Ace asked.

Sanji took a back seat in the conversation for the most part. This was a group of men - if booze flowed, talk would go on for hours.

Eventually it came down to Franky and a guitar he'd snatched from behind the bar (Sanji wasn't going to question it, he'd finally caught a nice buzz), and Brook (who turned out to be the skinny-as-bones mother fucker with the afro) finally unplugging the jukebox, and the two of them performing on top of a table, much to the glee of the other drunken patrons.

Ace and Kaku and Jyabura (who, it turned out, was actually a zookeeper with a lot of interesting stories to tell) cheered them on, which left the perpetually quiet Lucci, Zoro and Sanji at their table.

"What did Robin say?" Zoro asked, looking into his beer.

"She's still pissed about… that. I told her it was just a part of the job, it wasn't personal. She doesn't trust me yet."

"She'll get over it."

"Not with you hanging around all the time. She's never gonna look at me if she's always got her eye on you."

"Keep using that as your excuse, but you know where I stand, and so does she."

Sanji realized that this was an unexpectedly interesting conversation. He leaned forward. "Doth mine ears deceive me? Rob Lucci is having woman troubles?"

The man snorted. "Just this woman."

"Not 'just this woman'," Zoro smirked. "If it was just some woman, you wouldn't give a fuck after so long."

Lucci didn't reply.

"Wait, so you're serious about someone?" Sanji laughed. "After all the chicks I've seen you pick up just by thinking in their direction? And you went and fell for the one on the planet who might actually turn you down. So what's her deal?"

Lucci swirled what was left in his drink. "We've got some bad history."

Sanji raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Does it have to do with your other job I'm never supposed to ask about?"

Lucci leaned in close and looked over his shoulder. Zoro leaned in as well. Sanji's eyes went wide and he held his breath.

"She had a hit out on her. I was supposed to whack her, but some shit went down with the government and the hit was canceled."

"No shit?" Sanji whispered.

"No, actually. I'm just fucking with you." Lucci leaned back, his expression the same. Zoro slapped Lucci's arm and laughed.

Sanji hung his head and grinned. "I can't believe I fell for that shit."

"Not hard to convince people when it's what they already think anyway."

The chef sat back up, still grinning. "So what do you do then, if you're not a hit man for the mafia?"


"Bullshit. If you worked for the CIA you'd be gone all the fucking time."

Lucci shrugged.

"Fine, if you're not gonna tell me what you do, at least tell me why this woman isn't falling in line like the rest."

Zoro snorted. "You don't know Robin. Then again, any woman would be pissed if you were two timing her two best friends, while at the same time trying to hook up with her."

Sanji shook his head. "Damn. You dog."

Lucci frowned. "It wasn't that bad. She's just blowing it out of proportion. But Vivi was-"

"What? Vivi? As in… Baratie's Vivi? My Vivi?"

Lucci nodded. "I was dating her, then Nami and I hit it off – you know, real casual stuff –

"Nami? MY NAMI??"

"- but then they introduced me to Robin. Vivi wanted to get serious, Nami obviously didn't care, but I got real caught up with Robin, so I ended it with Vivi. I never even got a chance to ask her out before Vivi told her about it, and Robin was all… something about being loyal."

Sanji sat there, gaping like a fish. His two favorite, sweet, beautiful waitresses had both been nailed by Lucci, his bartender, and he'd never known about it.

And before he'd ever even had a chance.

"Cheer up. Chances are you've never met a woman worth doing that Lucci hasn't done," Zoro grinned. He looked at Lucci. "Ah, except, of course, Robin."

"Shut the fuck up," Lucci snarled. "Shall I get started on you?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything further.

Sanji was still in shock. "I… think I'm going to go drown myself in the bathroom."

He dragged himself to the bathroom, cursing Lucci and his mostly silent good looks, and how this was a much smaller world than he thought it was. Lucci had banged Nami and Vivi, who were best friends with the woman Lucci was actually in love with, and somehow they all knew Zoro – the man who'd defended his chastity so fiercely the night before, but seemed to be saying nothing about it. And who, apparently, he already knew from Skypeia. Oh, and somewhere else that he still couldn't remember.

The bathroom was empty, thankfully, and he had the added protection of available stalls. At least he'd get a heads up if some guy tried to bust in on him. Someone followed him in – and as soon as he left his stall, he realized that someone had green hair, and was leaning against the sink where he needed to wash his hands.

"I don't know which one of you is creepier – the guy last night for the attempted rape, or you for consistently following me into bathrooms. I need the sink."

Zoro moved aside. "Just making sure you didn't need my help like last time."

Sanji wiped his hands on a paper towel, and straightened his tie in the mirror. "I'm starting to wonder about you, pal. You're seriously creeping me out. Ace says you don't go to clubs, but you just happened to be at the one I was at last night, and you just happened to be paying enough attention to me to know I was being creeped on. You just happen to be friends with my bartender, and I can't figure it out, but I know I've seen you somewhere other than the brawl at Skypeia a few weeks ago."

Sanji turned around.

"I'm gonna say it real simple; back the fuck off."

Zoro snorted. "Figures you wouldn't remember."

"Remember what, exactly?"

"Where you saw me before."

"Enlighten me."

The green haired man grinned, and Sanji's stomach squirmed. He just now noticed the other man's attire: black muscle tank and a black dress shirt with the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up over it. And, he was pretty sure those were a $500 pair of Armani jeans.

Zoro was about to say something when Ace busted in. "Franky just punched a guy out, cops are on the way."

"Fuck," Sanji spat, and they both hurried out after Ace.

Sanji spent the remainder of the week trying to remember where the hell he'd met that guy before. They'd gotten away before the cops came, everyone grouping up in taxis and disappearing. Lucci had gone with Zoro, so he didn't have an opportunity to question him about it. And the other part time bartender was scheduled for the rest of the week until Friday.

He'd just as well not question anyone or, if he had his way, think about it. But it was nagging at him constantly. Ace couldn't recall knowing him from anywhere else either.

He started listing off clues as he mindlessly did inventory in his cramped office.

First, Zoro was obviously familiar with him, and not likely from the Skypeia incident. Second, he seemed to know an inordinately large number of Sanji's friends. Third, he got along well with Lucci (well, that wasn't really a clue, but it was something he felt worth noting). He was prone to stalking Sanji in bathrooms. He owned at least one pair of really fucking expensive jeans. What else?

He frowned. All of that pretty much amounted to nothing. He was going to have to extract more information from Lucci.

Sanji'd been working at the Baratie for eight grueling months, and for eight grueling months he'd only gotten Sundays off after working 17 hour days. Sunday was normally his day to collapse. Sleep and smoke, order take out because his feet ached too much to stand up in the kitchen and cook. But this Sunday he decided he needed something different, so he headed to the rec center in his neighborhood.

Before getting his job at the Baratie he would visit the rec center three, four times a week, always the same time in the afternoon. He'd casually studied a lot of martial arts styles, never really settling for anything specific. While he was apprenticing in France he'd gotten pretty heavily into savate (French foot-fighting), but there weren't any places in New York that offered it at a reasonable price, so he settled for the free random classes at the rec: Tae Kwon Do, karate, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and more recently, Muay Thai. Whatever they happened to be teaching around 1 pm Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays suited him just fine. The instructors all knew him pretty well anyway.

He leaned against the wall as he waited for the kiddie class to dismiss, eyeballing the brats through the large glass window that provided a wide view of the activities inside. The lovely, sweet, blond and curvy Conis was teaching the kiddos aerobics today.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Sanji grinned.

"Had a rare day off, thought I'd stop by and see how you sorry saps are doing."

Shuraiya Bascud was about the last person you'd think would volunteer his spare hours at a community rec center. He had a startling tattoo on his left cheek of a pirate hook and a constant scowl on his face. He was a cruel son of a bitch to his adult students, but put him around kids… a complete 180, particularly in the presence of his darling little sister, Adelle.

"I'm teaching Muy Thai next – you joining?"

Sanji nodded.

"Hope you've been practicing-"

"Whoa! Look who dragged his sorry carcass to our little corner of town!"

"Saga," Sanji blinked, surprised. Saga was another volunteer for the rec center, one who made a lot more sense than Shuraiya. The lavender haired man was a stand up citizen, formerly a firefighter and one hell of a kendo student. He'd been in a bad accident on the job - a month before Sanji got his job at the Baratie - and lost the use of one of his arms. The last Sanji had heard of him, he'd been released from the hospital, but gone into a bad depression. He couldn't blame the guy – if he lost the use of one of his limbs, especially his hands…

"Yeah, been a while, huh? I heard you got a cushy new job as a chef in some fancy restaurant uptown."

Sanji snorted. "Fancy is one word for it. Can't complain though. Got a good staff and I'm paid way too much for what I'm doing."

"Obviously keeps you busy though. Haven't seen you around."

"Yeah, the hours are hell."

Sanji noticed Saga's bad arm in a black bandage, but decided not to ask about it.

"So I heard something weird the other day," Saga went on, adopting a grin and sharing it with Shuraiya knowingly.

"What?" Sanji frowned.

Shuraiya crossed his arms, looking smug. "Heard Zoro had to save your sorry ass at the Merry the other night."

Sanji froze. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"He told me. Of course, he said you were so fucking shit faced you couldn't walk straight, but it sounded like the guy was making excuses for ya," Saga raised his eyebrow.

"How the fuck does everyone know this asshole? I got jumped in the bathroom when my back was turned and yeah, I was drunk. I would have been fine with or without his help, but that creepy ass mother fucker has a nasty habit of stalking me in bathrooms, it's not like I got my ass kicked."

Shuraiya and Saga looked at each other again.

"What do you mean, following you into bathrooms?" Saga asked.

"I don't even know. Somehow he knows all my friends, shows up at the places I party at, then follows me into bathrooms to make sure I don't get jumped. Well, it only happened twice, but twice is enough to freak me the fuck out. How do you know this guy, because I know him from somewhere but I can't figure it out-"

Shuraiya looked at him. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Come on Sanji, how long have you been coming to this place?" Saga asked, looking slightly indignant.

"Four, five years? Why?"

Shuraiya snorted. "It's Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. Come on, dip shit, you used to see him four times a week after class. He teaches kendo after this and has been for the last two years."

Sanji was speechless.

Now he remembered. Every time he got out of class, there he would be, waiting in his black hakama and white kendo jacket, leaning against the wall like Sanji was now. They'd nod at each other, and once or twice Sanji stuck around long enough to catch a glimpse of him in action.

It wasn't as significant as Sanji suspected their familiarity might be, but it was enough to make him feel like a complete idiot. Seriously, someone he saw several times a week for a few years, and somehow he'd forgotten the guy in the course of eight months.
And now the original indignation about him being off his guard was starting to make a little more sense. Zoro knew he was a perfectly capable fighter, so it probably was annoying to see him so piss drunk he couldn't even defend himself.

"What did he tell you, exactly, about that night?" Sanji's eyes narrowed.

"Just that Marshall followed you into the bathroom and that Zoro had to save your ass. Why?" Saga asked.

"Who the fuck is Marshall?"

Shuraiya laughed. "You are one clueless mother fucker, aren't you? Marshall Teach, the guy that attacked you."

"No, actually, he wouldn't know who Marshall is," Saga interrupted. "Unless Lucci brought it up."

Sanji's head began to swim. "How the hell do all you people know each other? This is New York, for Christ's sake!"

Just then the class that Conis was teaching let out and Sanji immediately shook off his bad mood. He and Conis caught up for a few minutes while the other students for Shuraiya's class showed up.

Sanji wasn't out of shape, per se, but he'd definitely been in better shape. He'd gone out partying almost every night after work, and it was starting to take a toll on him. But it was something that went with the gig socially. If he started to be known as the boss who couldn't hang with his employees, they'd probably starting thinking that he thought he was too good for them. A good relationship with his employees was important not just for how his restaurant ran, but how easy it was to get good connections with his suppliers, how easy it would be to hire other good employees – the web of how it all came together was mind boggling. If he had a reputation for being an asshole, it could affect anything from receiving good service at other restaurants to getting a loan for a car.

The restaurant industry was a fucking shady place. But in the last eight months he'd come to understand it to some degree, and love it.

He was exhausted and not very impressed with himself when the class was finished, and he knew by the look on his face that Shuraiya wasn't very impressed either.

He peeled off his sweet drenched shirt and inspected the places he was sure were going to bruise tomorrow.

"You're even losing definition in your stomach. What the fuck have you been doing for the last eight months? Some of them could kick your ass at this point." Shuraiya nodded to the soccer moms and octogenarians that passed by.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't have time to work out three hours everyday anymore. I get home and I'm fucking exhausted from having an actual job all day."

"And you're still smoking. You're gonna be wrecked by 30."

"Yeah, yeah. You're starting to sound like the shitty old man."

"Just come in every once in a while, and don't drink so fucking much. Do some fucking crunches before you go to bed. You're not half as flexible as you were eight months ago-"

"Alright, mom. Shut the fuck up already."

So he'd solved the mystery, but he still felt oddly discontent about it. He could chalk it all up to Zoro wanting to lecture him about being on his guard and knowing better, and maybe if the guy hadn't followed him into the bar at Water 7, he probably could have left it at that. But Zoro had followed him in there for a reason and they'd been interrupted before he could find out whatever it was.

Or maybe he was over-thinking it. If Zoro really had something to say, he could find Sanji easily. Zoro knew all his fucking friends – something that irrationally pissed him off – and Zoro knew that Lucci worked with him at the Baratie.

"So whaddya say, boss?"

Sanji looked up from the reservation book he was scowling at. Nami and Vivi were smiling at him angelically.

"I don't think he heard us," Vivi grinned. "Wanna come with us tonight to Okama's Way?"

Sanji momentarily faltered. Two gorgeous women were asking him to accompany them on a rare outing to a club with them. The only problem was the club they were asking him to go to.

"Come on, please? It's the only way we can go out and have fun without getting molested on the dance floor! I promise to tell everyone you're straight, and if you dance with us all night, no one will bother you. Please? Our girlfriend is really depressed right now, and she needs a night of fun. Ace said he'd go if you go, and Franky's going." Nami batted those gorgeous lashes at him, and he knew he couldn't refuse…

…even if it was the gayest club in New York.