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“Is it a prehistoric bug?”
“Is it the plague? Are we all going to die?!”
“Perhaps blood will start sipping from his eyeballs.”
“That's not it! He's got…”
The crew held their breath.
“...a cold.”
“I have what now?” Sanji looked at Chopper like he'd just grown a third antler.
“A cold. You know, sneezing, coughing, feeling rough. You'll live.”
“That's ridiculous. I've never been sick in my life.”
“Yes, well,” Chopper dismissed while disinfecting his instruments. “Seems like a nasty strain too. You can't be near food preparation.”
“EHH?”
“And everyone else better stay away if you don't want to catch it too.”
Nami, Usopp and Robin stepped back towards the galley door in unison, taking Luffy with them who was still catching up. Zoro didn't move. He'd been leaning against the table, listening. Chopper looked at him.
“If it's contagious then I've already got it,” he waved a hand.
“I can't believe this is happening. And just before Yuletide,” Sanji pulled at his hair.
“Yuletide?” asked Nami, behind Luffy.
“Oh, it's… a North Blue thing,” Sanji slumped in his chair. “Just silly really, nevermind.”
“Wait, Sanji's sick?” Luffy gasped.
“Did you just get that!?” Usopp snapped.
“He won't be able to cook for a while,” Robin filled in.
“EHHHHH!?”
“That's what I said,” Sanji whined into his hands.
“CHOPPER! DO SOMETHING!” Luffy begged.
“I can't do anything, sorry. He'll have to wait it out. Sanji, I can give you things to relieve your symptoms. You need rest, fluids and nutritious food.”
Sanji glared.
“And food. Anyway, stay in the galley where there's better ventilation. Usopp, bring some blankets.
“I can get my own blankets, I'm perfectly fine!”
“Take one step and I will cut you down.”
Everyone stared frozen at Zoro who'd drawn a sword, pointed it at Sanji's throat and looked like he was about to unleash holy retribution on him.
“What the fuck, Marimo?”
“You will do what Chopper says or so help me.”
“Oh, wow…” whispered Nami.
“Right,” Chopper latched on to whatever was happening. “Usopp, where are those blankets!”
“I'm going! I'm going!”
“Luffy, get a futon.”
“Y-yes!”
“Robin, make some tea.”
“With pleasure.”
“Nami, fetch some tangerines for vitamin C.”
“On it.”
“Nami-swan will feed me tangerines~? ♡”
“I'll feed you steel if you don't pipe down right now.”
Sanji growled. It would have been more menacing without the glassy eyes and red nose.
“Listen,” he spat, pinching the bridge of his nose, feigning annoyance, but actually resting his eyes, which were starting to sting, “there’s enough leftovers for a couple of days if you keep Luffy in check. Just heat them up. I’ll be better by then.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sanji! It’s all going to be alright!!” Luffy grinned the smile of a man staring over the edge of sanity.
He put the futon on the floor and Sanji noted he’d even fetched clean bedding. And was laying it out. Blankets were dropped on top by Usopp who bowed, mumbled a get well soon and retreated speedily, dragging Luffy with him. A pair of hands materialised next to the bed and put down a steaming cup of tea before Robin also departed. Nami threw a basket of fruit at Zoro from the door, who put it on the table.
“Right,” said Chopper, handing over a powder and a liquid. “Drink these now. I’ll check in.”
And then there were two. Him and Zoro. Fucking Zoro. He frowned. It made his face hurt.
❄⽊*꩜⚔
It was two days later and he was not better. He was positively worse. The first day it was just the sneezing and the runny nose and the tiredness, day two was the headache and the difficulty swallowing. Day three brought the chills and the fever. Even Luffy had given up hanging outside the galley door in the hopes freshly cooked food would magically appear.
He made his way back from the bath wrapped in a fluffy robe. The hot water had helped him stop shivering, but his whole body ached and walking up stairs was leaving him winded.
A brief glance around told him everything on deck was carrying on as normal. Luffy and Usopp were fishing, Robin and Nami were hunched over some books and Chopper was crushing leaves.
The galley, though, was a whole nother story, starting with the big red X that'd been painted on the door. He mumbled something, but didn’t even have the energy to yell about it. He’d get Usopp for it, eventually.
He took as deep a breath as his lungs would allow and stepped into the very definition of not normal.
“What the hell are you doing?” he stopped at the door and stared at Zoro.
The swordsman in the kitchen startled, nearly jumping at the sound of his voice, like he’d forgotten this had been Sanji’s makeshift bedroom the last three days. Piles of tissue boxes and all manner of concoctions were piled by the futon alongside the books he couldn’t focus on enough to read.
He lit a smoke. It tasted awful, adding insult to fucking injury.
“I’m… cooking,” Zoro eventually replied, a haunted look on his face.
Sanji looked at the ingredients spread out on the table: bacon, chillies, apples, lentils, cabbage, potatoes. Pots of various sizes had been taken out of the cupboards. Random condiments sat to attention. He spotted cloves.
“What, uh… what are you making?” he asked casually, like trying to trick a cat inside its carrier.
Zoro’s eyes went wild. He looked between Sanji and the table in a near state of frenzy.
“Whatever this makes.”
Sanji took a deep drag. It was like swallowing nails.
“Put all that way,” he sighed. “You’re going to give yourself a concussion."
“You’re not cooking,” Zoro focused suddenly.
“I know already! As if I’d want to give Nami-san and Robin-chan my germs.”
“Well, someone has to and nobody else can stay in here long enough!”
“I know that too! I’ll tell you what to do, so just shut up and listen.”
Zoro swallowed hard.
He hadn't gotten sick. It annoyed Sanji more than his own cold annoyed him. Why the hell was the fucker immune when god knows how much saliva they’d exchanged the days prior? Why was it only Sanji with a red crusted nose and peeling skin and bloodshot eyes? And why had Zoro made himself the designated Sanji nurse? Of all the people on the ship, why did it have to be Zoro?
He felt himself shiver as the effects of the warm bath wore off and the medication he’d taken in the morning ran its course.
“Are you okay?” Zoro frowned, ever annoyingly perceptive.
Sanji rolled his eyes dismissively and walked to the bed. He felt every bone complain as he settled down, something like relief the second he pulled a blanket over his legs. By the time he’d blown his nose for the hundredth time, a hot cup of tea had materialised next to him. Zoro had moved away before he’d even had the chance to thank him. Not that he would have. He hadn’t asked for the service.
“SANJIIII! We caught a fish!”
A giant eye covered the entire porthole to his left, then got pulled back to reveal a grinning face under a straw hat and a long nose.
“It was me, the great Captain Usopp, who caught it!”
“We’re going to grill it outside, so don’t worry about food today, Sanji!”
“Great, you do that!” he shouted and immediately regretted it when it felt like his throat was lined with glass shards. He shut his eyes and tried to swallow to no better effect.
“Go mess about somewhere else!” Zoro yelled at the two outside when they started laughing uncontrollably at something they’d said.
“Don’t be pissed, Marimo, they saved you a job,” Sanji managed to say without flinching.
He looked at his cigarette in defeat and put it out on the nearby ashtray. Recently emptied, he noted with more Zoro-aimed annoyance. Not only was he not having a go at him for smoking, he was throwing away his fucking stubs.
“Shouldn’t I make something to go with it?” Zoro asked, the wild-eyed look returning.
“Boil the potatoes. And some greens. That’ll be easy enough. Peel, quarter, 15 minutes max, but check after ten. Wash the greens, smaller pot, leave them on for five. Add salt to the water.”
“Just salt? Nothing else?” Zoro looked on pleadingly.
“Just salt,” Sanji nodded, drinking his tea. It did make him feel better.
“How much?”
“Half a teaspoon in each pot,” Sanji mumbled, pulling up the blanket and falling asleep.
❄⽊*꩜⚔
The night was no better. Chopper had given him stronger medicine after he couldn't manage to swallow anything other than two spoonfuls of mushed up potatoes for dinner, so he kept tossing and turning, fever breaking just enough to drench him in sweat before the shivers kicked back in.
Nightmares mixed with reality as he veered in and out of sleep, hands touching his skin in a panicked need to ensure his restricted breathing was not the result of a contraption around his face.
He thought he may have been hallucinating when he first noticed Zoro in the corner, propped up on his swords, sleeping soundly. Sanji’d fallen asleep each night while Zoro was still awake and woke up to find him getting breakfast ready, so he’d just assumed he’d been hitting his hammock as normal. But there he was, definitely not a phantom conjured up by Sanji's mind, no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes.
He gave up on sleep and sat up to find the galley awash in blue moonlight and the warm tones of a single lantern on the table. It cast Zoro in shadows, but there was just enough there to make out his jaw, the glint of his earrings, the smooth skin of his arms. He was infuriatingly handsome and Sanji wanted him with a fire that tore through his very heart. But more than anything, anything, he wanted Zoro to want him back.
This thing between them was new. It was passionate and sexy and having to blow your nose every five minutes was anything but. He would never have admitted it even to himself, but a part of him, a very small part of him, wanted to kiss Zoro under the mistletoe on Yuletide. Which is stupid because there is no such thing on the Merry. And they're nowhere near the North Blue to get any. And anyway, it's just stupid. As stupid as presents under the yuletree for all the crew and snow magically falling on the day. But that small part of him could dream, couldn't it.
He'd never really celebrated it, since… Well, not formally at least. A small gift would somehow materialise near Zeff on the day. Oil for his moustache he happened to come across. A pudding with rum and raisins he learned to make. Some ointment someone was selling that helped with muscle pain. Cake with marzipan and a dusting of sugar. Warm red wine with a hint of fruit and spices. If Zeff ever noticed the annual habit of it, he never said a thing.
And here he was, Yuletide Eve about to light up the sky and him sick as anything for the first time in his life and not even able to make his crew a special meal for it. Not able to give Zoro a special present to mark the occasion. Now all Zoro would remember was him like this. And having to play nursemaid.
He lay back down, pulling his covers close and let a thankfully dreamless sleep overtake him.
❄⽊*꩜⚔
“Here, Chopper said honey helps.”
Zoro handed him a cup of black tea. He couldn’t really eat anything. Asking Zoro to make soup was going to be well beyond his skillset, even with Sanji talking him through it step by step. He felt guilty enough as it was.
Breakfast was done. Lunch had been sandwiches, easy enough. Sanji was trying hard to think of what Zoro could handle for dinner.
He’d been doing the cooking and the washing up and the cleaning and the throwing away of Sanji’s used tissues whenever he fell asleep, which yuk, and the listening to him snore because his nose was blocked half the time and the putting up with being in the same space as him all day and sleeping on the floor at the end of it and–
“Why are you even doing this?”
He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t cope at all.
Zoro frowned.
“Putting honey in your tea?”
Sanji pressed his fingers to his eyes.
“It fucking hurts,” he whispered to himself.
“Do you have a headache? Want me to block out the light?”
“What?” Sanji looked at him confused. He hadn’t even realised he’d said anything out loud.
Zoro didn’t wait, but proceeded to cover the portholes with whatever he could find. He left the one closer to the kitchen uncovered, enough to be able to see to finish cleaning up.
Sanji didn’t correct him. He drank his tea in the dim light. It really did help. Not eating was getting to him, he had to calm down.
“Where I’m from they make tea with honey and spices and whisky for colds,” he said conversationally. “You’d probably like it.”
“Sounds like a waste of good whisky,” Zoro glanced back from the sink suspiciously.
Sanji’s brief sense of panic at realising what he’d said subsided. He really needed to stop thinking about the past. But Zoro hadn’t latched on to it. He really simply didn’t care about it. Nobody in the crew did. And he was grateful for it.
“You have no sense of taste at all.”
“I like you, don’t I?” Zoro threw behind his back.
Did Zoro still like him? He’d been looking at him differently since day one, when Sanji’d said he wasn’t feeling great. Zoro’s entire playfulness had gone. He’d made no effort to touch him, which, fair enough, Sanji would have kicked him to hell and back for, but also no attempt to tease him about being brought down by a simple cold. The fire that burned in his eyes whenever he looked at Sanji was not there. He wanted it back. He wanted his Zoro back.
“Even a stopped clock is right twice a day,” he shot back.
“Say, for dinner, we have steaks. Can we barbecue them?”
“Waste of fine meat, but yeah, they’ll be alright.”
“And salad? Nami and Robin will like it. Chopper too.”
“That will work,” agreed Sanji, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat any of it. “Use the blue bottle dressing. And a Goa wine, it’ll pair well.”
“Okay, I will,” Zoro finished up and turned to him. “Are you cold? Want me to run you a bath?”
“I can do it myself.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll let you know when the water’s done.”
Sanji nodded. He knew there was no point arguing. He got up when Zoro was gone and opened the fridge. He grabbed a chocolate mousse that still clung to life from five days ago. He managed three spoonfuls before he felt sick.
❄⽊*꩜⚔
The hot water was his only relief. The headache, the sore throat, even his ringing ears were nothing compared to the chills. His muscles could actually relax for the half hour he had before the water started to turn cold. Chopper had given him herbs to put in it that helped him breathe. It was a small piece of comfort.
He could hear Usopp working on something on the rear deck. Luffy trying to help Zoro get the barbecue started. Nami and Robin thanking Chopper who’d brought them some spare fabric they needed for something downstairs. The ever present creaking of the Merry.
He ran his hand down the wooden wall of the tiny bathroom in affection.
They were all getting started on dinner when he walked past in his robe. They all stopped eating to talk to him from across the deck.
“Are you feeling better, Sanji-kun?”
“Don’t worry about me, my sweet!”
“Have a steak, Sanji!” yelled Luffy.
“You can have mine, captain.”
“Really? What are you having?”
“I’ll figure it out,” he started up the stairs.
“I left the last chocolate mousse in the fridge for you!”
“I saw. Thanks, Chopper.”
“Thank you for the lunch-time sandwiches, cook-san.”
“It was all Zoro,” he waved.
“You’ll make a decent wife out of him yet,” cackled Usopp, but not for long.
Sanji smiled as he closed the door to the murder scene behind him. Zoro had been keeping everything clean and tidy, exactly how Sanji did. Dishes never had time to pile up in the sink, leftover food was wrapped up and stored in the fridge, there’d been no wastage or spillage of any kind, the worktops had been wiped down almost expertly.
He sat on his futon and picked up a book. It was an old storybook of folk tales, some from the North Blue. He couldn’t focus on the words so he looked at the pictures, losing track of time. Zoro came up after a while with an armful of dishes, a row of disembodied hands helping carry the rest before waving at Sanji and disappearing.
He went back to his book, tracing the colourful images of fireplaces, of hearty dinner tables and wrapped presents by a tree. Of cosy, loving houses. It was a thing from those days Sanji didn't want to give up. The idea of it, not the reality. The feeling of it, more than the memory. Like his mother's smile. Occasionally, his sister's care, but then he'd recall the reasons for it and any warm feeling froze inside.
Needing to be looked after was not a good memory. Feeling weak made him feel unwanted. Having food served him while he waited helplessly made his head hurt. It made it fucking hurt.
“Eat,” Zoro's voice cut through the fog.
He stared at the tray being handed him. Green tea and a bowl of something white.
“What is it?” he set the book aside.
“It's a kind of rice porridge my master made when someone was sick.”
Sanji looked at it in wonder and then at Zoro who was kneeled next to him.
“Did you ever get sick?”
“No. But one time I ate a bad fish and couldn't have anything else for two days.”
Sanji nodded and poked it with a spoon. He tried a bit after blowing on it. It was bland, a little salty, a little lemony. It felt soothing going down his throat. His stomach welcomed it. It wasn't winning any culinary awards, but it hit the spot. His tastebuds acknowledged it. More than that, he could tell that Zoro had taken time with it. The rice was perfectly cooked, the consistency was right. Sure, it was all of four ingredients if you counted water, but for someone whose idea of cooking was roasting things on an open fire after killing them, this was high cuisine.
“Thanks,” he said as he handed the tray back, plate empty.
“It's nothing.”
He didn't expect for Zoro to blush, like he'd been caught out. That wasn’t a reaction he’d ever gotten out of him. The things that came out of Sanji’s mouth in the heat of passion were enough to make a grown man gasp, but Zoro had swallowed them all up like they were sweet whispered nothings and this, this, is what he found too much?
He watched him take the tray back and start on the washing up. He had a discipline about him that made him very efficient at the task, scrubbing every pot to perfection, wiping every lipstick stain that lingered on a glass. Sanji observed, cradling his tea in his hands, enjoying the return of warmth to his core. Whatever was happening was nothing like the picture book, but it felt like it.
A frosty breeze came in from an open porthole. Zoro noticed it at the same time as Sanji shivered and walked over to close it shut, picking up Sanji’s empty cup in the process.
“Do you need anything else?” Zoro hovering close.
“Actually…” Sanji started and stopped, not sure how to ask. “Would you mind if… I'm kind of cold and–”
“You want another blanket?”
“No, um... ” Sanji squirmed. “It's just… you're always so warm and…” he trailed off lamely, hands bunching up the blanket for something to divert his nervousness to.
“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Zoro hid his face as he turned to take the cup to the kitchen.
He lit the lantern on the table and turned off the lights, resting his swords and kicking his boots off. Sanji moved to make room under the covers, even as he felt his face heat up. This was way too soft for them, but he would blame it on the fever if Zoro ever brought it up. Right now he wanted.
Zoro lay down facing him, the lantern making all the shadows in the galley dance, soft light on their faces. He felt Sanji's forehead, still burning up, then grabbed him to hold him tight before he had a chance to complain. He kissed his hair, trying to keep him from shaking. He smoothed down his back, other hand pulling a blond head close to his chest.
Sanji's breath caught, having expected something more awkward and distant from Zoro. He didn't resist the affection, but he didn't know how to interpret it. His fever-addled brain had been screaming something at him, now finally starting to make sense. Zoro was actually worried. For something so small. It didn't make sense and he didn't know what to do with the information.
“You know I'm not dying, right? It's just a cold.”
He heard Zoro's heart beat louder right where his head rested, the rhythm so fast as if it might burst through his ribcage. Sanji wondered if it hurt.
“Sometimes people die for stupid reasons,” Zoro's whispered voice came out hoarse.
Sanji let that sit for a moment, then squeezed Zoro's side, not hurting, but grounding. He pressed his lips against Zoro's shirt, right where his heart beat so fast. He kept himself there, until the frenzied rhythm slowed and a deep breath left him. He looked up at him, eyes meeting.
“I'm not dying you stupid swordsman.”
Zoro huffed.
“I only wish getting rid of you was that easy.”
“Damn fucking right,” Sanji mumbled as he pressed his head against Zoro's chest again.
He wrapped an arm around Zoro's waist, sinking deeper into his embrace, the other awkwardly pressed between them. It was the most comfortable he'd been, maybe ever, even with his whole body aching. He sighed deeply and let himself drift off.
❄⽊*꩜⚔
He had no dreams. When he opened his eyes the next day he was pleasantly warm all over. Zoro's arm was draped around him. His face was buried at the back of Sanji's neck where he quietly snored. His breath tickled.
Sanji rolled his eyes that he found it adorable and gently elbowed Zoro to wake him.
“Hmm?”
“Wake up.”
“Why?”
“It's morning.”
“S'fine.”
“Breakfast.”
“They're asleep.”
“I can hear them walking upstairs.”
Zoro seemed to wake abruptly at that.
“Right, yes. Stay here.”
He untangled from him carefully, but when Sanji turned to look at him he stalled.
“What?”
“Nothing, you just… you look better.”
“I think I feel better,” Sanji agreed, checking himself.
He tentatively breathed in through his nose and swallowed without wincing.
“I'm not cold,” he said, relieved, but still pulled the blanket close.
“I'll get you some tea,” Zoro smiled after a moment and Sanji had half a mind to tell him not to fucking move because he looked so soft with his hair all messy and his skin creased, but he had been the one to tell him to get up in the first place.
He sat up when his honey tea appeared and stayed there with a silly smile on his face when Zoro nipped outside. Today was the day. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either. Maybe he could risk a kiss later if he made himself more presentable.
He could hear running and scuffling outside, but surprisingly no demands for breakfast. He looked at the time. Weird. Luffy's patience wasn't going to last long, so Zoro needed to hurry.
Just then he reappeared, carrying Sanji's coat.
“Hey, want to get breakfast outside? If you're not shivery anymore. Get some fresh air and that? Chopper says it's alright.”
“He does? Then yeah, that’d be nice.”
“It's cold though, so put this on.”
Sanji allowed Zoro to wrap him up, letting him fuss with the buttons for exactly three seconds before he pushed him off because he was sick, not a small child. Zoro gave him a once over and then opened the door.
Sanji blinked a couple of times, getting used to the light. It took a few moments to realise that his eyes were not playing tricks.
“Oh! It’s snowin–”
“HAPPY YULETIDE!”
Mental whiplash was not enough to describe the magic of thick snowfall replaced by the sight on the deck.
Luffy stood grinning in red fur-rimmed pyjamas and a matching hat, holding a giant potato sack. Chopper was next to him in reindeer form, constantly sneezing on account of the lipstick on his nose, which made the bell around his neck jingle. Nami, Usopp and Robin all wore pointy green hats and stripy clothes. Usopp looked especially grumpy about it.
“How… What… How did you know?”
“Tee-hee,” grinned Nami. “Turns out I had a book on North Blue customs. And so did Robin.”
“It’s a great tradition, cook-san.”
“Not so sure about that thing with the horns,” frowned Usopp.
“I never heard of a reindeer with a red nose,” said Chopper.
“Merry Yuletide, Curly,” Zoro leaned in to whisper.
“You knew too?”
“Get down there, there's more,” Zoro urged him on.
He reached the deck to get spun around by Nami pointing to the tangerine grove. Red and blue and green lights hang on strings around the snow kissed trees, in what would soon become a fire hazard.
“You decorated.”
“The yuletree was the most important thing according to both books,” stated Robin.
“Sanji! It says you have to feed me for the presents,” Luffy grinned.
“Well? Did you bring everyone presents?”
“Sure did!”
The big sack on Luffy's back was presented proudly. Actual wrapped parcels in wanted posters lurked between old bunched up pages of the World Economic Journal.
Nami got a drawing compass, Usopp a screwdriver, Robin some coffee, Chopper a book and Zoro a bottle of wine. But Sanji's gift was a bit of a puzzle, gift-wrapped in the store's own branded paper.
“Okay, so I know Nami's compass came from Usopp's stash because he stole and broke her other one.”
“Hey!”
“Zoro's wine is the bottle Luffy grabbed when he tried to reach the fridge from the door and then panicked.”
“I thought Zoro was going to chop my arm off, hahaha.”
“Usopp's screwdriver is his own that he lost and Chopper probably found tidying up this week.”
“It was my turn.”
“Chopper's book is Robin's.”
“I had finished reading it.”
“Robin's coffee was from Nami hiding in the back of the kitchen cupboard, but this…”
He turned his present over in his hand. It was a cigarette case. Plain, but stylish. It would fit in his jacket pocket perfectly.
“Because you're always getting them all damaged when you fight,” said Zoro. “I picked it up at Water 7. I was just waiting for the right time.”
Sanji stared wide eyed.
“Everyone, I–” he started, but couldn't finish it. He choked on the emotion that would overtake him if the words left his lips. He tried to reshape them, to make his expression of gratitude less direct, yet honest and heartfelt and true to the enormous love he felt. He failed entirely.
“Don't worry about it,” Luffy grinned. And because his smile was contagious, it spread to every face around him too.
“Alright, enough, Sanji needs to get back inside,” said Chopper, transforming and wiping his nose. It smeared red all over his face. The bell jingled.
“Wait, how about my present?”
“Sanji's not well enough to cook yet, Luffy.”
“Give me till tomorrow. It'll be a feast,” Sanji smiled and leaned on Zoro. He felt lightheaded and not from being sick.
It would be the biggest feast. They were well stocked up. So it'd be a day late, but so what? Not perfect, but so very close enough.
He looked around at the snow one more time and his crewmates in their ridiculous outfits chatting away about their presents, about how Yuletide would be great on Drum Island, about how Nami is never letting Usopp near her stuff again. He smiled at the trees with their colourful lights. And finally at Zoro whose arm was now around Sanji’s waist.
“They should have put lights on you too.”
“Very funny, Dartboard,” Zoro said, wiping snowflakes off his green hair.
“By the way, I have a present for you too.”
“You… do?” Zoro seemed genuinely surprised. “You didn't need to get me anyth–”
“But I can't give it to you yet.”
Zoro paused, caught between not wanting to be ungrateful and mounting curiosity.
Sanji smirked and gave him the most suggestive look he could muster in a wet coat over a sleep-in sweatsuit.
“Give me two days, a bath, a good meal and a chance to tidy up the galley and I'll make it worth the wait.”
Zoro grinned. There was fire in his eyes.
There he was again.