Chapter Text
“For you, my love.”
“Thank you, Sanji.”
He doesn’t get it.
“Would you like anything else before I start to close up shop, my angel?”
“I’m good, but thanks.”
He really doesn’t get it.
“Oi, you gonna ask the rest of us, shithead?” Zoro grunts.
“Yeah, I’m positively famished, my dearest Sanji,” Usopp adds with a bat of his eyes.
“Oh, me too! Me too!” Luffy perks up from his seat at the end of the booth, wholly sincere. “Will you get me a—“
The blonde cook—as always—is quick to anger and even faster to spit back, “Shut up, you heathens. The only reason I let you in here at all is because it would upset Nami and Robin if I banned you again. And you already finished three dishes on your own, Luffy. My employee discount only goes so far!”
“Tch, you let us in here because the last time you tried to ban us, your old man beat the shit out of you,” Zoro quips back with a smug grin before Luffy has the chance to convince the cook to bring him more food.
Sanji’s lips are pulling back around his unlit cigarette to snarl a reply, but the sole female of the group smoothly cuts in from her seat beside Law.
“On second thought, Sanji, I’m feeling a bit warm. Could you grab me a diet coke, please?” She flaps a hand in the air for show, looking coyly over her shoulder to smile prettily at the cook.
True to fashion, he instantly shifts from aggravation to flirtation, nimble fingers whisking away the table’s empty dishes with flourish. “Of course, my love. One diet coke with light ice coming up!”
He practically twirls away without even a second glance to the rest of them.
Law truly, genuinely, whole-heartedly doesn’t get it.
“Where is Robin, anyways? She’s bringing the alcohol, right?” Nami mutters, one neat eyebrow lifting curiously.
“Didn’t you check the group chat?” Usopp asks.
“I would check the group chat, but somebody kicked me out yesterday and no one’s added me back in,” she says as she glowers darkly at the curly-haired engineer.
“Well, maybe you should stop blackmailing that certain somebody with certain Halloween photos that you swore you would delete after you took them.” His long nose sticks haughtily up in the air, arms crossed unapologetically.
“I wanna see the picture again, Nami,” Luffy snickers as he shovels Zoro’s leftovers into his mouth, flecks of food flying everywhere as he speaks.
Usopp’s cheeks flare red, lanky arm reaching out to smack the other boy upside the head. “No! Or else I’ll change the wifi password again!”
Sensing an incoming fight, Zoro doggedly takes out his phone and taps a couple buttons. “I’ll add you back in, so chill out. Robin’s meeting ran late. She said she’ll head over once she’s picked up the others from the store. And yes, she has the drinks.”
The bickering trio finally settles down, Nami huffing out a ‘thank you’ just as Sanji returns with her soda. Law watches surreptitiously as she accepts the glass from the blonde and he settles a hand on the seatback behind her, leaning heavily towards her though no contact is actually made.
Law feels his brows furrow as he sinks a bit further in his own seat. For all their verbal flirting, the two are rarely physically affectionate with one another.
What was their deal anyway? No matter how intently he’s observed them over the last few months (and no, he will not be examining exactly why he observes them at all, thank you very much) Law can never quite put a finger on the couple’s relationship.
It…bothers him that the other man is constantly fawning over her, fluttering around the woman like a doting servant while she hardly even gives him a second glance.
It’s unequal. Nonsensical. Toxic, even.
And he really, really doesn’t understand how two seemingly sane individuals are content with such an unhealthy romantic dynamic.
“Torao,” Luffy calls, patting his now bulging stomach, “when’s your group getting here?”
Law blinks, realizing that the rest of the table has halted their various discussions and arguments to stare at him curiously. He adjusts his hat and fishes his phone out of his pocket to check his messages.
“They should be here in a few. Shachi took a wrong turn.”
The boys whoop and holler, banging their fists on the table in excitement.
“Hey, calm it down,” Sanji grumbles, “Still got other guests here.”
“Sorry, Sanji.”
“Sorry.”
“Go kick them out, then.”
Another squabble quickly breaks out between Sanji and Zoro, but Law isn’t paying attention anymore. He has a few texts from his friends, a voicemail from work, and some random notifications on his socials.
He leans an elbow on the table and flips through each message, responding to some, ignoring others, and then finding himself just mindlessly scrolling as they wait in the nearly empty restaurant for the real party to begin.
Law isn’t sure how much time has actually passed since he’s checked out of his surroundings, but he starts to feel a tingle on the side of his face like he’s being watched. After a moment, he looks up, but everyone seems busy talking or texting. He frowns.
Before he can think about it any further, the door to the restaurant swings open with a blast of cold air and his own group comes swarming in, smiles wide and voices loud.
“Cap!”
“Ooh, nice deco in here.”
“Yo yo yo!”
“Where’s the fucking booze?!”
Sanji whips around from where he’d been heading towards the kitchen and points a threatening finger at Penguin. “Oi! Watch your language! We still have guests!”
“Yeah, watch your fucking language!” Usopp yells, to which Sanji stomps over to put him in a headlock while Luffy laughs and laughs and laughs.
Penguin’s shoulders hunch up to his ears and he swivels quickly around to the last remaining table of patrons, bowing low to the middle-aged couple. They wave off his apologies with a gracious smile and signal Sanji over to come get their check. The cook smiles charmingly at them, apologizing profusely as he hurriedly sees them out, no doubt to avoid soiling the restaurants reputation for two loyal customers.
“My bad, my bad,” Penguin is still saying as he squeezes into their booth beside Usopp, shedding his winter jacket. Once the newcomers have successfully commandeered their own seats, Penguin leans forward and asks again—this time in a whisper— “So where’s the fucking booze?”
“On it’s way,” Zoro informs.
“Where’s Brook and Franky?”
“Yeah, Brook said he’s bringing pizza!”
The door opens again and, as if they were summoned, the older four of Luffy’s group come trudging in, little flecks of snow clinging to their hair. Their arms are laden with bags of food and alcohol, Franky’s hulking figure barely fitting through the double doors with all his extra cargo.
“Yohoho,” the skeleton chuckles, balancing an enormous stack of pizzas. “You called?”
Luffy whoops loudly, rubber arms whipping out to anchor on Jimbei’s shoulders as he rockets himself out of the booth. The blue fishman merely chortles, content to be the younger man’s perch as he moves to set down the massive box of beers in his hands.
“Booze!” Zoro and Penguin shout.
“Pizza!” the others cheer.
“Robin!” Nami cries, nearly sprinting from the last few streamers she’d been pinning up to wrap the dark-haired woman in a hug. Dramatically, she wails, “I’m saved!”
The archaeologist titters as arms multiply around her to form a train that transfers their bags towards the back tables. She returns Nami’s embrace warmly and the two women begin to run through all their carefully planned preparations for the surprise party.
Things quickly settle into a dynamic typical to their rowdy group of friends—which is to say that voices talk loudly over one another, alcohol is rapidly passed around, and laughter is heard far and wide throughout the cozy establishment.
Law tries to pay attention to what Shachi is animatedly telling the table (some story about how Professor Sakazuki tried to fail the whole class on their final exam based off a stupid contingency), but he finds that his eyes can’t seem to stop trailing after the orange-haired meteorologist.
If Law were a more sentimental man, he would almost think that he had a crush. Being of a more practical disposition, however, he’s positive it’s just the fact that she has a stray strand of hair falling out of her bun that distracts him.
“—before he gets here. And I think that’s it,” she’s saying, brows furrowed delicately. “You think we have enough dessert for the group?”
The older woman hums thoughtfully, narrow eyes scanning the massive piles of sweets, the cotton candy machine, and whopping three whole cakes. She cocks her head to the side and smiles, “I’m sure this will be plenty.”
“Thank god. Keeping this table Luffy-free the last hour was a nightmare.” Nami sighs with relief and finally pulls out a barstool to sit down. Law studies the way she tilts back and stretches her arms high above her head, the pale expanse of her neck bared to the world. “He should be here pretty soon, now. Hopefully the weather doesn’t keep him.”
Robin simpers and reaches out to toy with the banner that reads ‘Happy 21st Birthday, Chopper!’ in bubbly pink and blue letters—no doubt Usopp’s handiwork.
“Seeing as he’s quite naturally built for this sort of climate, I’m sure he’ll be right on time. Possibly even early.”
Nami suddenly straightens up in her seat, mouth opening to reply, but Law doesn’t catch what she says next because a strong arm is suddenly slung over his shoulders, pulling him abruptly to the right.
“Torao will do it,” Zoro is saying with a dangerous grin.
“Do what.” Law grunts, twisting in his seat to escape the dojo owner’s iron grip. He frowns when the green-haired man only tightens his hold.
“Ask Sanji if we can put the beers in the freezer for a bit,” Bepo pipes up. His furry friend is squished between Clione and Shachi, already looking like he’s ready to bolt from the stuffy restaurant into the chilly evening air.
“No. Do it yourself.”
“C’mon, Cap,” Ikkaku whines, “You’re the closest to the kitchen anyways.”
Law glares, finally managing to free himself from the swordsman’s all-too-burly arm. “By half a foot. I’m not even drinking that shit tonight anyways.”
His refusal only leads to more complaints around the table and several balled-up straw wrappers thrown at his head. In the end, his annoyance wins out over his resolve and he finds himself sliding out of the booth with two middle fingers lifted high in the air.
They cheer loudly and Penguin even blows him a kiss. The idiot.
Law feels extra grouchy as he slumps his way past the ‘Employees Only’ sign and through the kitchen doors. But the spotless workplace is devoid of the familiar blonde cook, and Law frowns as he hears voices coming from the hallway by the back exit.
Rolling his eyes, he shuffles along, only to pause once he’s close enough to recognize the voices just outside the door that’s been propped open with a crate.
“—any moment now,” Nami is saying softly. “Franky should be done setting up the confetti cannons, and I think Usopp brought his extra switch remotes for games later.”
“Parfait!” he hears the frenchman reply, “You’ve done a wonderful job, my dearest Nami.”
He knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but Law can’t quite help it. His insatiable curiosity about the odd pair burns hotter than ever with the opportunity to observe their behavior in private.
Surely, their affections are more obvious with no one around? He thinks he’ll finally be able to bury the odd twinge (concern for two acquaintances, of course) he feels at their combined presence should he simply witness proof of their romantic engagement firsthand.
So, Law hovers just outside the door, ready at a moments notice to appear as if he’s just entered the back hallway, should they detect his presence.
“Mm, well since we couldn’t celebrate it last year, I wanted to make sure his twenty-first was extra special. Everyone’s helped out a lot, too,” she says. “Thanks for asking your dad about using the restaurant, by the way.”
“Of course,” the cook answers easily.
“You sure he isn’t upset about us staying so late?”
The smell of cigarette smoke wafts in through the door, tickling Law’s nose.
“Nah,” Sanji says, “If anything, I think he was waiting for an invitation.”
At that, Nami laughs, the sound sparking something in Law that he’d rather not focus too much on.
“You should’ve,” she says, “The last time he and Jimbei drank together was possibly our most legendary party to date.”
Sanji groans loudly, “As if we need the cops called on us again. Garp may have joined in last time, but I doubt that old fogey of a boss he has would let him get away with it a second time.”
“I don’t know, I think they might just call the whole squad down here for drinks once they find out it’s for Chopper.”
At that, Law does crack a smile, because it’s true. Hardly anyone can turn down the adorable reindeer for anything, and police chief Sengoku is no exception.
Neither is he, for that matter. How else did they manage to drag him out of his cave the day before a twenty-four-hour hospital shift in the morning? He’s gotten soft in the months following Joker’s incarceration. (And no, it had nothing to do with Nami texting him privately last week bribing him with her not-so-secret stash of indica. Or the way their digital conversation has continued on to this day, even after he’d agreed to attend. No, not at all.)
“Fuck,” Nami hisses suddenly, “It’s cold as balls out here.”
“Oh no, my poor darling is cold!” the cook swoons, “Come here and I’ll warm you up with my loving embrace.”
This is it, Law thinks. This is when he’ll finally get confirmation. She’ll giggle and blush and step into Sanji’s open arms, maybe even reach up to tug his cigarette from his lips moments before delivering a soft kiss. They’ll embrace and share intimate words, and Law will finally be able to move on from this…this thing that he has that’s been squirming uncomfortably in his chest since September.
(Concern. For acquaintances. Yes.)
He waits with bated breath, wondering all the while why he can’t seem to shake this feeling of dread. And then—
“Ugh, cut it out. Let’s go get the party hats for everyone.”
He almost doesn’t move in time, but thankfully the cook takes an extra two seconds to snuff out his cigarette on the icy ground before the pair are in the doorway, cheeks rosy from the cold, but decidedly not rosy from any sort of romantic tryst.
He’s still so very confused.
“Oh, Torao,” Nami says brightly when she sees him mid-(fake)-step, “need something?”
Law feigns nonchalance and jerks his chin to the blonde man ducking inside behind her. “We allowed to use the freezer?”
Sanji rolls a fresh, unlit cigarette between his teeth. “For what?”
“A couple six packs.”
“Sure. Just make sure to recycle the box and cans later.”
Law nods just as someone bellows from the dining area, “Chopper’s almost here! Everyone hit the fucking deck!”
Nami’s eyes go wide and she curses under her breath as Law swivels to let her pass him in the narrow hall. Sanji quickly follows, clumsy commotion sounding from all around the restaurant.
“Here, take a hat!”
“Someone turn the lights off!”
“Ow, shit. Get off my leg—“
“Scoot over!”
“You scoot over!”
“Wait, I can’t see where I’m going—“
“Who has the confetti poppers?”
“Everyone shut the fuck up!”
Somewhere amidst the chaos of it all, Law feels a small hand wrap around his wrist and drag him bodily into the front room. He doesn’t think to resist, too preoccupied with the jolt of electricity that runs through him at her unexpected touch.
With all the lights off, he can’t quite make out more than the dim outline of Nami’s profile as she stops them next to the entrance. She pulls him into an awkward half squat behind the hostess counter where he notices Luffy and Usopp are already hiding. Her fingers still cling around his wrist as she aggressively whispers instructions to the others to ‘pick a spot to hide and stay there.’
But when he finally shakes himself out of his stupor and shifts to crouch half-behind her, she whips around, tips of her long hair flicking across his face.
“Hey—“ he begins to grumble, but stops abruptly when she places a cold hand on each side of his face and tugs it down closer to hers. His eyes widen almost comically and Law could swear his breath literally sticks in his throat, and—
(oh god, she’s going to kiss him, why is she going to kiss him, oh fuck, what about the others, what about her boyfriend, calm down, wait, what’s she—)
—Law feels a thin elastic band snap into place under his chin, an odd weight settling atop his head.
Her breath fans hot across his face as she whispers, “Thought you were getting out of wearing a pink party hat, did you?”
Nami’s quiet laugh sings in his ears as his heart thuds in his aching ribcage. He notices belatedly that she’s swiped his own familiar, spotted ball cap from his head in the process and most likely has it hidden away for the time being. Sneaky thief.
“My hat,” he finally mutters lamely.
“Hush,” she says as she turns back to the front, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. “Chopper will be here any second.”
True to her estimate, the sound of hooves clacking against concrete grows ever closer outside as everyone holds their breath. It’s the most silent Law has ever seen this group, and probably the most silent that he ever will.
The doors slam open, and Chopper’s silhouette rapidly shifts from reindeer form to his usual toddler size. The poor kid’s chest is heaving and he doesn’t even notice that the lights are off or that a couple snickers echo through the room.
“Sorry—“ he doubles over, one hoof pressed to his chest, “Sorry I’m late! My supervising needed help filing a—“
Before the doctor-in-training can finish his excuse, someone flicks the lights on and suddenly the room is exploding with noise, screeches of ‘Happy birthday, Chopper!’ ringing out along with pops of confetti cannons and the sound of Brook’s cheerful violin.
The surprise has exactly the effect that Law had expected. Chopper nearly jumps out of his own skin, a scream of pure terror ripping out of his throat as he instinctively scrambles to find somewhere to hide (poorly, of course).
Everyone laughs and a hand (courtesy of Robin) blooms behind the startled reindeer to gently push him back into the room.
“You guys…” Chopper begins after a moment, eyes flitting from face to face as understanding slowly starts to dawn on him, “This—this is all for me?”
“Well, of course, little man,” Franky says boisterously. “Now get in here so the party can start for real.”
“Happy birthday, dude!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Happy twenty-first, Chopper!”
Law can’t quite hold back his own amused grin as Chopper proceeds to do his oddly endearing ‘oh shut up, that doesn’t make me happy at all, you assholes’ dance, face scrunched up shyly.
“Let’s eat!” Luffy hollers, and everything quickly devolves from there.
The next hour is a blur of singing, eating, and drinking, and Law finds himself surrounded by his loudmouth friends as they continually make fools of themselves.
He’s quickly pulled from group to group, and is even coerced by a gleeful Luffy to play a round of Smash Bros—which he very swiftly and decisively comes in at last place (it’s not his fault the stages are so narrow and that Cloud has such bad stage-recovery).
True to his word, Law doesn’t drink—unwilling to suffer a hangover during his shift tomorrow—but he hardly needs to with all the noise and chaos around him effectively making it feel like he’s just stepped off one of those inane fair rides that just spin you around for an eternity.
All of it combined is almost enough to distract him from the rather distressing realization that—back in the cramped darkness, squatting behind a short counter—Law had very clearly wanted Nami to kiss him.