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Nami let out a long breath, swiping a blob of whipped egg yolks off of her face. It was late in the evening, the window in the galley painted a purple sky as the sun descended past the sea’s horizon. After thorough research, Nami had decided that this would be the best time to steal the kitchen, just after the dinner rush and cleanup, but just before the nightly preparation Sanji took to ensure the next day’s breakfast mise en place went smoothly. It was one of the few times of day that the kitchen was empty, but it was a tight window that Nami had to adhere to.
As she resumed the whisking, she flinched at the beep of the oven. Crap! She almost forgotten about the crust baking in the oven. Quickly, she dropped the whisk, leaving a small puddle of filling on the counter, and hustled to the oven. The crust had been slightly burnt, but other than that it was good enough to throw on some mitts and lift out of the heat. As she pivoted on the floor tiles to balance the fresh crust, a gasp left her body. She nearly dropped the pan on her foot at the sight of the ship’s chef leaning in the doorframe.
“Sanji-kun! What are you doing here!?” Nami spoke over her shoulder, frantically trying to find a clear spot on the counter to lay the crust down. Eventually she found a potholder that had been covered in various ingredients, and set the pan down. She cringed at the mess, especially embarrassing now that she knew Sanji saw what she was doing to his beloved kitchen. He’s going to be so mad…
“Well, it is kind of my job as the crew’s chef to be here, in the galley.” Sanji chuckled, pulling a cigarette out of his mouth and into an ashtray.
“I- Yeah! I mean, Sorry, I just thought maybe you wouldn’t be in here for another hour or so.” Nami awkwardly surveyed the kitchen, realizing how bad it looked. “I promise I was going to clean this!!” She kicked at her feet, the goal at hand long forgotten since his sudden appearance.
“It’s alright, you’re always welcome here. And you're right, I only came in when I smelled something burning.”
He smiled, lifting himself off of the door frame. “Do you need any help? Of course, you seem to be doing great. But a sous chef always makes things a little easier.” Carefully, he entered the kitchen space, avoiding the loose ingredients on the floor.
“Uh, It is your kitchen after all, so you can help out if you really want.” Nami leaned against one of the counters, twiddling a finger through her hair, forgetting the cornstarch that was on her hand is now coloring her orange strands white.
“Okay! First things first, what are we making?” Sanji knew it was some kind of pie, probably lemon judging from the smell, but with how messy the kitchen was, it could be just about anything. Plus, she always had a certain glow to her when she took the lead with things. He leaned his side against the counter with her, tasting one of the various puddles on the surface. The egg filling isn't half bad at all…
“Oh! Um, lemon meringue pie-” Nami started frantically wiping the counter space, setting up the whisk again.. “-For Robin-san!” That was close… Why did I almost forget it’s supposed to be a surprise!!??
She watched as his eyes widened, returned to normal, and then widened even bigger.
“Shit, did I forget Robin-chan’s birthday!?? No, this can’t be!” A hand clamped over his mouth as he panicked, clearly deep in thought. “Wait, lemon meringue.. Isn’t Robin’s favorite cake red velvet? Did she lie about her birthday when she joined the crew?? Where did I go wrong???”
He kept going on like this, his speech fading into nonsensical mumbling that Nami stopped listening to. In her defense, he was talking more to the stain on the floor than her anyways.
Nami couldn’t help but to stifle a laugh. When he was overanalyzing something simple, his face scrunched together in the cutest way, and there was no waking him up from the trance. The whole reason she was in the kitchen in the first place was because she knew he always prioritized others, and so far, the day was almost over and he hadn’t acknowledged even once that it was his birthday that day. When the thought crossed her mind a few weeks ago of all the times he went out of his way every single day just to bring her comfort, she decided to at least try to do something for him, just this once.
A few weeks prior….
Nami huffed in the comfort of her study, flipping through pages of old articles and random, shady files on her desk. She refused to allow the fact to remain that she hadn’t even known when his birthday was, so she did a lot of digging. Her first thought was to run through all of the files she could find on him, but there was hardly anything from before he had joined the crew, and nothing too personal. It made sense, he was a criminal after all, just like everyone else on the crew. Plus, he wasn’t the type to talk about himself much. After quickly discarding the dead end of a plan, she had decided to bring in the big guns.
[“Purupurupuru…. Purupurupuru…kerrrchack!”]
Nami sat, nervously awaiting the voice on the other line.
“Oi, whaddya want? You idiots better not have lost my son or something!”
Nami flinched a bit, as if she didn’t expect him to pick up. She could almost hear his scowl through the receiver.
“Um, Hi, Mr Zeff. I’m Nami, Sanji-kun’s friend. Uh, anyways, I was just wondering if you could tell me his birthday? I doubt he would tell us, and I want to surprise him, if that’s okay”. Her leg bounced in place, making one of the legs of her desk wobble. She was unusually nervous, even though it was just a call. She hadn't really met Zeff formally before, but she knew from the short time together that he was pretty intimidating, even from seas away.
The chef scoffed. “Oh! So that little brat has been all secretive, huh? Well, A pretty lady like you’s ought to know. Now, I’m not entirely sure the exact date, but we usually threw a cake his way on March 2nd.”
How does his own father not confidently know his birthday? Nami sighed, relieved that her search was over. “Thank you sir!!” She was about to hang up, but his voice continued.
“By the way, you have my blessing if ya want it. My son’s an idiot, but if you took him off my hands I would rest easy. Take care, Ms Nami.”
[*“kerrr–chack!”*]
The snail drooped its eyes down, signaling that the line died. Nami froze in her seat, still reeling at the strange encounter.
“Huh?” She asked out loud, knowing it was the dead of night, purposely timed so no one would overhear. What was that old man talking about?
She shrugged it off, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. March 2nd, hm?
“Wait, that’s next week!” Nami shot out of her seat, knocking a few papers off of her desk. With a new determination, she carefully wiped the rest of the papers into a pile, placing them out of the way. In their place, she began writing on a fresh sheet of parchment. She had a lot less time than she had thought, and had to act fast if she wanted to truly make something special.
Back to the present…
“Nami~~san….” Sanji wiped a hand across her vision.
“Oh! Sanji! Sorry, you were saying?”” Nami blinked, trying to remember what she had been doing a few moments ago.
His face now rested on his palm, his eyes failing to leave her. “I was asking why you chose to make lemon meringue for Robin. I just want to alter my notes on her preferences, since I clearly missed something.” He waited patiently, pen in hand.
“Oh, uh, It’s not her birthday, don’t worry. I just, uh, spilled some ink on one of her skirts! And she said she’s never had a lemon meringue before so I thought it was a good idea to make one for her to try.” Nami was normally good at lying, but he had a way of always making her feel like he could read her mind. It made her stumble through her words way more than usual, but at least he seemed to believe the excuse she had made up on the spot.
A thick sigh of relief left the man. “Phew, that’s good to hear. Although, I wonder what desserts she did have that she didn’t like. Were they made by an amateur? Or, were they just not to her liking? Was it loaf? Meltaways? Would she prefer something sweeter, like truffles or cake? No, she’s not one for sweets… maybe shortbread? No, too bland. Although, with a hint of turbinado sugar? It could work… or maybe a muffin would suit her palette better, since the acidity of the lemon would be enhanc…”
Since Sanji had spiraled into terms that only a gastronomist would appreciate, Nami began to finally resume her baking while he was distracted. The egg yolks had been combined by now, so she moved to the stove to boil the mixture.
“Oh, sorry about that, Nami. What can I help with?” Sanji finally remembered that they were supposed to be baking. He had just about passed out when he saw her in his apron earlier, wearing oven mitts that were way too big for her delicate hands. The only thing that could possibly distract him from her was cooking, and even then he couldn’t help but to stick around just to see her bake.
Nami continued whisking, careful not to let the mixture burn. “You can start on the meringue part, if you want?” She glanced over her shoulder, to make sure he wasn’t still lost in food-land. To her surprise, what she saw was the chef rolling up his sleeves, just past his elbow. The last slivers of sunlight reflected through the window had combined with the steam in the air to create a glow around his face. It made the strands of his hair light with a radiant golden shine, and the harsh shadows of the galley contrasted his jaw perfectly. She hated to admit that the sight made her heart race.
Quickly, she turned back to her work, turning the flame of the stove off and moving to assemble the cream of tartar part. She normally would have ignored this step since it made no sense, but the recipe she had stolen from Sanji’s cookbook had very specific notes scribbled all over it, detailing every ingredient, where to get it, why it works, and what could be changed. It was impressive to say the least, and Nami appreciated his work that much more because of it.
“Alright, the meringue is done, Chef Nami~” Sanji turned from his spot, showcasing a bowl of smooth, white filling that had stiff peaks that spelled faintly of vanilla.
“Eh? That fast??” Nami had purposely given him the longest step since he obviously knew what he was doing, but even so, she wasn’t expecting it to be that easy for him.
“Of course, I can’t disappoint a beautiful head chef such as yourself!” Sanji twirled around a little, an obnoxious habit he had whenever he was “flirting” with her. Nami blew a loose strand of hair out of her face, and started to re-boil the lemon mixture.
She would never admit it, but sometimes she wished he would flirt for real, rather than all of the lines that he obviously reused for every woman he’s met. She had begrudgingly accepted by now that she did find him attractive, but he clearly didn’t feel the same way since all he every did was galavant around singing her praises like an idiot. While it was kind of cute sometimes, it was annoying that he didn’t mean any of it.
“Sanji-kun, Can you bring the pie crust over here?” Nami asked, clearing a space for the pan yet again. She slid the various bowls of different mixtures to the side, ready to begin filling the pie. The second she made a spot on the counter, the crust appeared before her, carried by clean, calloused hands.
“Here, Nami-san, i’ll hold the pan in place while you pour the filling in.”
It sounded reasonable to her, so she carefully held the saucepan up, angling it down towards the dish. The warmth in her face was definitely from the boiling filling, and not the fact that his smooth voice was directly next to her ear. Sanji had helped scoop the remaining filling out of the pan, and then topped the pie with the meringue. Nami watched him in awe at the precise movement, but snapped out of it as she was randomly handed a spoon.
“Wait, what’s this for?” Nami looked quizzically between him and the spoon. There was nothing in the notes about scooping anything back out.
“Use the back of it in the middle part here, to make it all spiky”. Sanji slid the pie closer to her with a sweet smile. Nami raised a brow, but obeyed the directions and made small scooping motions over the topping. It just looked like a pile of mess to her, but he seemed pleased so she set the utensil down and moved to the oven. Sanji was close enough to reach the door already, and steadied himself with a hand on her lower back as he pulled the handle down for her. It was a small movement, but it still sent a shiver down her spine that she couldn’t ignore. At last, the pie was in the oven, and all that was left was to wait. She brushed her hands against each other, leaving a small cloud of starch in the air.
Sanji had already started cleaning, so she had to hurry to make up for the disaster she had made in his kitchen before he did it all himself. There was powder everywhere, various pots and pans littered the sinks and countertops, and just about every surface she looked had some kind of slimy yellow goop on it. Nami grabbed a towel and scrubbed away at what smelled like a clump of egg yolk and some sugar that had spilled over one of the bowls. Behind her, she heard Sanji sweeping away at the floor tiles, which had suffered just as bad as the counters. He hummed a tune she didn't recognize, and the melody surprisingly calmed her down. It was probably since it meant that he didn’t mind the mess.
Right when the counters started to sparkle from to their teamwork, the oven beeped. Excitedly, Nami rushed over, carefully taking the pie out of the oven. It smelled incredible, the perfect harmony of the tart lemon with the sweetness of vanilla and sugar. Carefully, she set it on the kitchen island.
“Woah, the topping turned brown on the top!” Nami looked at her creation in awe. She pulled two forks out of the drawer, running around to the other side of the island where the barstools are.
“You did amazing, Nami, well done. Robin will love it.” Sanji stayed in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with his forearms and a subtle, sad look in his eyes. He was admiring both the pie and the goddess that was about to dig her fork into it. Wait, why would she be eating Robin’s gift?
Nami giggled, and she motioned for him to come over to where she was sitting. “Come on Sanji, get over here. I lied about making this for Robin, duh.” She waited patiently, taking delight at the shocked look in his face.
Bewildered, Sanji obliged and slowly made his way around to the barstool next to her. What is happening right now?
Once he finally sat down, Nami handed him a fork and scooped a bite-sized piece in her own. Before she ate it, she clicked her piece against his own in a a cheer. “Happy Birthday, Sanji.” Nami gave a warm smile and ate her piece, the flavor melting in her mouth. She turned to Sanji to see he was still completely frozen in place, his face turned bright pink.
“How did you–” his fork hung in midair, his mouth slightly agape.
“Eat your pie already, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?” Nami went in for a second bite. She normally wouldn’t even ask for this kind of dessert, but the one she made was delicious.
“I-Uh, alright.” Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off of her, she had completely stumped him. Words were not enough for how the simplest gesture made his heart pound against his chest. Sanji eventually brought the fork up to his mouth. It was delicious, of course. He expected that much from his own recipe. But, what this dessert had could never be replicated, it tasted better than anything he had ever made before, and anything he could make in the future.
He felt his eyes begin to water, and quickly wiped at them to stop it before it happened. Luckily they dried up fast, It would have been embarrassing. He distracted himself with another bite, then angled himself towards her. “This is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. Really, Nami, this means so much. Thank you.” He couldn’t help his grin as they shared his favorite dessert.
“Aw, it’s nothing. I thought you could use a treat.” She smiled, landing a fake, lighthearted punch on his arm. “Plus, I ruined your kitchen while I was at it, so we’re even.” She winked, sticking her tongue out a little.
Sanji chuckled, thinking about the mess that was the kitchen an hour ago. Honestly, he was so distracted by how cute she was that he hadn’t noticed it at first, not until she turned away.
“I really don’t mind. And even if I did, you definitely made up for it with this.” He gestured towards the now half eaten pie with his fork. Nami had stopped eating a few minutes ago, and he set his fork down, wanting to cherish the leftovers for as long as he could.
“Hey Nami?” He spoke in a low voice, the ambiance of the night making it seem wrong to use a normal speaking volume for much longer.
“Hm?” Nami watched with anticipation as he leaned his chest closer, his arm stretching towards her face. Her breath hitched when she felt his fingers gently grasp her jaw, his thumb wiping across her cheek. It wasn’t fair, that her heart ran a mile a minute over something that was over in seconds.
“You’ve got a little something on your cheek”. He rubbed the residue on a spare napkin, smiling to himself at her flushed face. His arm rested on the counter next to her, just barely outside of her personal space.
“Sanji, can I ask you something weird?” Nami shifted her weight on the seat, fidgeting in her lap.
“What is it?” He had her full attention, his eyes a gentle intensity.
“Would you…” She tried to look anywhere but his face. “Would you ever consider us to… to be more than friends?” Her eyes darted back to his eyes, studying his reaction. He seemed surprised, but he still had a serious look to him, a face she didn’t see on him often.
“Wh..What do you mean by that?” His eyebrows furrowed, as if he was actually trying to read her mind. Still, he didn’t exactly seem embarrassed to ask, it was more like he was hiding something.
“Well, you know, like something, a little more intimate than just friends. Something more.” Nami peered at him, pleaded in her mind for him to either catch on and accept or act completely clueless and forget this ever happened.
He adjusted himself, leaning in closer but keeping a safe distance between them that made her itch for more. “Nami…If you’re serious about this, so am I. But I've waited way too long to ruin this over a misunderstanding.” He spoke slowly, careful not to say anything he couldn’t come back from. By now, they were so close that Nami could feel his legs flush with her own, and she craved the warmth of his body more than ever. Closer…
His eyes flicked between her eyes and her lips, their faces so close he could feel her breath as she spoke. Naturally, his head ever so slightly turned to the side, but he still waited, used as much self control as he could muster in the situation to not make a move he would regret.
Carefully, she brought a hand to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his trimmed hair. The other hand clutched his upper arm, holding herself steady. When he didn’t move away, she finally broke the distance, meeting her lips against his. Her eyes squeezed shut, feeling nothing but the warmth of his body and the pulse in her body racing like crazy. She tasted his bottom lip just a little, glad that his mouth moved passionately with her. After a few short moments that felt like time didn’t exist, she slowly pulled away, just barely separated from him. She let out a stuttered breath, her words failing her in the moment. His eyes were still closed for a moment, and she watched him slowly lift them to look at her as if she were truly a goddess. He looked completely enamored, his breath mixing with her own. She had felt an intense longing for him that she had never felt with anyone else, even from a short, simple kiss.
“Woah.” he spoke under his breath, barely audible. His heart was going a million miles a second, his mind was fuzzy, and all he could think about was the taste of her lips. He wanted more, so much more.
And she knew it. She could tell he was holding back, he kissed her like he was scared she’d disappear at his touch.
“Kiss me like you mean it.” She whispered in a sound only he could hear. Nami didn’t have to wait long, his mouth collided with hers without skipping a beat, and she soon felt a warm hand on her waist, another on the side of her neck. This time, his soft lips flowed like water on her own, and soon she felt a warmth slide against her lower lip. She complied, opening her mouth to him. She followed his movements, shivering at his every touch. She pulled him closer, until there was no longer any space between them. It felt like he had been waiting his entire life for this moment, and she wasn’t about to stop it any time soon. His hand moved ever so slightly under the bottom seam of her top, and she instinctively let out a soft sound against his lips. He responded with a subtle, throaty groan and deepened the kiss even more. It was electric, a moment she never wanted to end. The smoky smell of his body, the warmth of his touch, the taste of his mouth, it was intoxicating. She paused for a moment, admiring the sultry look he had with his eyes half closed. He waited a few seconds before returning to her soft lips once more time in another deep kiss. After what felt like ages of pure bliss, he finally pulled away.
Nami’s lower lip trembled at the absence, the taste of tobacco and lemon lingering in her mouth.
“God, please have birthdays more often.” Nami’s face broke out into a helpless grin as she played with his collar, not quite wanting to release him yet.
He took a loose strand of her hair and brushed it behind her ear. “With you? It’s my birthday every day.” He grinned, leaving a peck on her forehead.