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The island looks to be a winter one, and the lights of what appears to be a sprawling carnival can be seen from nearly a full half-mile away as the Sunny makes her steady approach. Most of the crew have gathered on the deck to point and chatter excitedly about the large slowly rotating wheel rising up in the center that’s visible even through the slowly drifting fall of snow settling on top of the water before immediately melting away.
“Wow, I’ve never seen one so big!”
“Do you think they have other rides?”
“I wanna play all the games!”
“I can’t wait to try all the food!”
Sanji snorts at this last comment, predictably spoken by their enthusiastic captain. She puffs on her cigarette as she watches the approach much more sedately, quietly keeping an eye on how far over the Sunny’s railing most of their devil fruit eaters are leaning. With their luck, Luffy’s going to end up taking a dive before they reach the docks in his excitement and probably dragging poor Chopper with him for good measure.
A warm, steady presence pulls up beside her, and she leans into the heavy arm that wraps itself around her waist.
“I’ll fish him out if he falls,” Zoro’s voice murmurs in her ear, reading her thoughts like he’s always been good at. Her lips curl up at the corners.
“Of course you will,” she agrees amiably. She blows out a smoke ring, watching it float into the deepening night. It’s not quite so late as the sky makes it seem, but her internal clock nudges at her regardless. “I’ve got to finish takin’ inventory since we’ll be here long enough to restock, so I certainly don’t have time for it. You better not catch a cold, though—chicken soup isn’t on the menu.”
“I don’t get sick, Cook.”
She snickers. “First time for everything here on the Grand Line. You never know what might happen.”
He squeezes her hip but doesn’t say anything more, and they stand quietly together while she finishes her smoke. Once the cherry is down to the filter, she snubs it out against the sole of her heel, leans up to press a kiss to Zoro’s cheek, and turns to head back to the galley. He catches her by the hand before she’s gone, pulling her back just long enough to press an answering kiss to the center of her brow.
“Luffy, if you drag Chopper with you when you fall, I’m lettin’ you drown,” Zoro calls once he steps back, letting her go to turn his attention to where their captain has his full upper half extended over the railing with their doctor on his shoulders.
Sanji can hear the pout in his voice when he says, “Aw, but we just want a closer look, Zoro!” She shakes her head with a fond grin and finally makes her escape. Her pantry won’t count itself.
They anchor at the docks half an hour later and immediately disembark to explore the winter carnival, which turns out to be in full Yuletide celebration, according to the dockworkers when Robin inquires about cultural significance of what they’ve happened into. Brook draws the short straw for watch tonight, and he bids them all a cheery sendoff with his familiar chuckle. Nami dishes out their allowances—increased ever so slightly in honor of the spirit of the festival—and hands Sanji the grocery money with a sweet smile and a reminder to not let herself be upcharged in the holiday madness.
“You can count on me, dearest,” she replies with a salute, and Nami indulges her when she blows her a kiss before turning to slide her arm around Zoro’s massive bicep. “Come along, Mossy. Let’s scout the place for the market before we head into the festival proper.”
Zoro, of course, grunts his assent in that charmingly barbaric way of his and lets her pull him along into the swell of the crowd without even a peep of protest.
How far they’ve come in two years, she muses with a smile. Before their forced separation at Sabaody, Zoro would dig in his heels and fight every step of the way any time he was sent on errands with her, adamant he didn’t need a babysitter watching his every move. It was mostly for show, of course, because despite their bickering and the way they fought—and continue to fight on lazy days—like cats and dogs, her mosshead has always put his nakama first, always steps up to the plate when he’s needed, whether for his battle prowess or his insane muscles able to carry as much as a cart horse. It was a fun little bit of dancing around each other, pretending there weren’t feelings between them, but no waltz can go on forever.
Now, after their reunion, after Sanji came back more settled in herself and with much less baggage surrounding her own identity, having set down the worry about the man the men who raised her thought she should be versus the woman she has accepted she actually is; after Zoro came back stronger and more confident in his own abilities and with a renewed fight to continue growing to be the best to protect those he holds so dear, they’ve come together the way she always wondered if they would: not quite two halves of a whole, but two sides of the same coin, the wings of the future King of the Pirates, two people who understand each other intrinsically and support each other without question.
She likes to think her new tits might also have played a part in their new, much more settled dynamic, but that’s a tease she keeps just between them when she wants to rile up her swordsman. It’s always hilarious to watch his eye drop to her chest before he forcefully pulls it back to her face, cheeks pink with an embarrassed flush because while he might be able to dish it in their arguments, he sure can’t take it sometimes.
Gods, but she loves him.
As they head into the town, Sanji takes in all the lights and decorations strung up across the streets and hanging from the shops lining the way. The townspeople call enthusiastic greetings to each other while children run about, laughing and yelling as they chase each other in made up games. Vendors call out their wares, hoping to entice customers into purchases. Streamers tickle the top of their heads, the heady, savory scent of mulled wine wafts through the air, and Sanji hasn’t seen quite so much happiness contained in a single place in quite some time.
“It’s so bright and loud,” she muses with a grin, sticking a cigarette between her teeth. “I could cut the cheer with a blunt knife, it’s so palpable.”
Zoro hums. “Definitely a lot,” he agrees. “Should keep Luffy busy for a while. Hopefully he won’t stir up too much trouble.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Sanji pats his chest, bare except for his overcoat, the crazy caveman. She resists the urge to pinch his nipple but allows herself a brief squeeze of the thick pectoral that earns her the stink eye. “Though maybe our luck will hold for once. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of a marine base or outpost.”
“Marines rarely come this far,” a shopkeeper says, near enough to have overheard their conversation as Sanji slows them to browse. “Haven’t seen any government dogs around these parts in ages. You won’t have to worry about them.”
Sanji offers her a smile. “It’s best we don’t underestimate our captain, but duly noted, regardless. Do you have any recommendations on your fruits here? I haven’t seen many of these before.”
“That’s because they’re only native to maybe two islands around here,” the shopkeeper tells her with a bright, proud grin. “Anything specific you’re looking for? Sweet, tangy? I’ve even got some that tend to have a sour kick if you let them ripen just a tad too much, makes for a good candy coating.”
Intrigued, Sanji spends a few minutes discussing the qualities of the fruits at the stall, settling on a handful of just about everything available since they likely won’t be back through this part of the Grand Line any time soon, if ever. Such is the way of their adventures. She gets the least ripe that she can so that they’ll be near ready by the time they set sail again, and hands the crate over to Zoro before they move on.
They do this at many of the stalls, Sanji haggling down the prices and coming away with plenty of food for their voracious crew. She gets as many non-perishable items as she can at first, leaving anything with fast expirations for the day they leave, and arranges to have barrels of rice and other bulk items delivered that same day as well.
Zoro, for his part, remains a quiet, steadfast presence beside her, occasionally offering a comment or two when she asks for his thoughts, eye roaming over the streets and ever vigilant despite the calm, communal atmosphere surrounding them. She catches a thoughtful expression on his face multiple times whenever he glances at the carnival, the rumble of the rollercoasters and the slow spinning of the wheel ride ever turning in its towering glory.
Sanji can’t help but tease him for it. “Are you really that excited for a carnival, Moss?”
Zoro, to his credit, doesn’t fluster like she half expects him to. He simply shrugs, their groceries moving with him. “Looks fun. Haven’t been to one in a long time. Not sure I ever have—least not for recreation.”
She can only imagine what it must have been like to track a bounty through the sprawling maze of a glorified circus. “Well, it might be a little late to go tonight since we had the shopping to do, but I’ll bet we can go tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to deprive you of the chance to blow all your beri on rigged games.”
His eye slides to her, and she sees the smirk curling up his lips. “I’ll win you the biggest prize they have, easy. Just you wait, Curls.”
It makes her heart flutter in her chest, the simple, nonchalant declaration of him intending to do something for her. Something romantic, at that, like a date. An actual, honest to gods carnival date.
She leans up on her toes to smack a kiss to his cheek, making it as wet and sloppy and overdramatic as possible. “I’ll hold you to it, Mosshead. C’mon, let’s get this stuff back to the ship.”
The next evening sees Franky and Robin drawing the short straws for keeping watch while the rest of them head back to the carnival. Sanji, once again saddled with her fun allowance and pulling her coat tighter around herself, slips her arm around Zoro’s and tugs him along. “C’mon, Moss, let’s go scam some scammers.”
His feral grin is practically audible. “The witch would be proud.”
“Don’t call Nami that, you heathen!”
They bicker all the way to the entrance gates of the carnival. The spiced wine aroma is even stronger, mixed with the smell of fatty, fried meat and the sugary scent of cotton candy. Luffy and their little doctor must be in paradise, she thinks, giddy. The entrance fee is surprisingly reasonable as they’re given wristbands to put on, and Sanji and Zoro share a look: the games are definitely rigged and meant to swallow any money poured into them.
No challenge the wings of the Pirate King can’t overcome, though.
The first row of booths boast a run of different shooting and precision games: balloon walls, ring tosses, moving targets. They wave at Usopp who’s parked up at one of the latter type of booths, grinning at the disgruntled stall attendant who is pulling down yet another one of the large plush animal prizes to add to the decent pile already by the sniper’s elbow.
Usopp waves back cheerily before making yet another bullseye practically without looking.
“At this rate, he’s going to sweep house before you even get a chance at it, Moss,” Sanji giggles, puffing on her cig. “Better find somethin’ he’s not good at.”
Zoro snorts. “I could hit a moving target, Curls. I do it all the time.”
“With your glorified butter knives, sure. With a dart the size of your pinky finger? Mm, I don’t know...”
“Don’t insult Wado like that. She’s at least a steak knife.”
Sanji reaches across her swordsman’s waist to pat the aforementioned blade. “He’s right. I’m sorry, dear, that was rude of me.”
Wado hums faintly under her fingers: apology accepted.
Even still, the first game they approach is one of the balloon popping ones. Sanji lets Zoro pull her over after he spends a couple minutes deliberating on his first move. Her eyes run along the top of the stall, seeing what prizes are on offer that might have drawn him towards it first. The biggest that she can see is a fluffy golden furred teddy bear with a green ribbon around its neck, nearly twice the size of Chopper.
Zoro, as she silently predicts, points to it. “That one’s goin’ in the galley.”
“Like hell it is,” she huffs, but she’s smiling as she watches him hand over his beri for a handful of darts. They truly are tiny in his massive paws.
“That one requires popping all five balloons,” the stall attendant tells Zoro, gesturing to the five darts in his hand. “No retries, no use of haki. Pop at least three balloons for the second place prize.”
Zoro doesn’t even nod his acknowledgement, simply squints as he looks at the wall of colorful balloons standing about ten feet behind the stall counter. Sanji watches with bated breath as he brings a dart up, aligning it with his chosen balloon, and then pulls his arm back and thrusts it forward like he’s thrusting Kitetsu through an enemy pirate.
It lands just shy of a blue balloon, skimming the rubber but not piercing it enough to pop it.
“Fuck.”
She can’t help but giggle as he picks up another dart. “Well, it was a nice thought.”
“I’m not done,” he gripes at her. The next two darts manage to pop red and pink balloons respectively, and the fourth misses again. “Dammit.”
“What’s the second place prize?” Sanji asks the attendant, while her mossman grumbles and tosses the last dart with much less enthusiasm. Amazingly, it manages to pop a green balloon.
The attendant turns and gestures to a smaller set of plushes sitting on a shelf. “Take your pick.”
“I want a redo,” Zoro announces instead of accepting his utter failure. He pulls out more money and thrusts it out. “Another five.”
The attendant looks amused as he goes to pull the darts from the wall and hands the exact same ones back to Zoro. Sanji bites her knuckle to keep from cracking up at the utterly determined look on the idiot’s face, the way his facial scar scrunches under the intense way his brow furrows.
“Mossy, it’s just a toy.”
“I told you I’m gettin’ you the godsdamned bear, so I’m gettin’ you the godsdamned bear.” He hip-checks her just to be an ass as he picks a different section of wall to turn his ire toward. “That was just a warm up, anyway.”
“Sure, Marimo,” she placates, still amused. “Whatever’s gonna help you sleep tonight.”
Zoro, brute that he is, flips her off to the scandalized gasp of a mother covering her child’s eyes as they pass, but Sanji simply blows him a returning heart-shaped smoke ring with her kiss and winks. He turns back to his self-imposed task and takes a deep, centering breath, like he’s preparing for battle.
He hits three balloons in a row before missing the fourth, then landing the fifth once again like an afterthought.
“Fuck this shit,” he announces to Sanji’s riotous laughter, face red and looking like much of the seasonal decorations dripping around the carnival. He jabs his finger at the second place prize shelf. “Give me the damn fish.”
The attendant looks like he’s fighting a smile as he reaches for the fat little fish plush tucked next to something that looks like a golem. It’s the most garish shade of vomit green and turns out to be missing an eye when Zoro yanks it out of the attendant’s hand and then shoves it unceremoniously at Sanji.
“Here. Let’s find another game.”
Heart fluttering, Sanji makes a show of holding the fish out away from her, scrunching up her face and shooting a glare at the swordsman as he stomps off ahead of her. “Because one one-eyed green abomination in my life wasn’t enough. Thank you so much.”
Zoro doesn’t even deign to respond, which is fine because it means he doesn’t see the way she brings the fish to her chest and kisses its ugly face.
“I’ll call you Algeron,” she tells it fondly. “Algae for short. Just like your humanoid lookalike. He might seem like an uncouth brute, but he’s actually very gentle. You couldn’t have a better namesake, my dear.”
They eventually approach one of the ring toss games where players are meant to, as the name implies, toss a ring and get it around one of the many bottles set out on the large platform in the middle of the booth. Zoro stalks up with his Pirate Hunter face on and nearly puts his fist through the counter as he slams his beri down.
“What gets me the biggest prize?” he barks, gesturing to the beautiful plush horse hung up high. Its mane is a gorgeous chestnut brown over pale brown fur, with large, kind eyes and a bridle over its snout.
Once again, the thing is nearly twice Chopper’s size. “Mossy, seriously, we don’t have room for that.”
“Nobody asked you, Cook,” he tuts, taking the rings offered to him by the timid attendant. “I’m gettin’ it anyway.”
The attendant clears their throat before Sanji can lay into him for being rude. “You’ve gotta land a ring around one of the purple bottles in the center to win the big prize,” they explain, gesturing to the platform. Now that she’s looking, Sanji sees the bottles are different colors, situated in rings that rainbow from the edge to the inside. There’s also less of each successive color, increasing the difficulty exponentially. “Smaller prizes start with the green ring. Red, orange, and yellow don’t win anything unless you get all five rings around the same color.”
There’s a plethora of cheap-looking palm-sized keychains scattered around, no doubt the consolation prizes, Sanji thinks with a sniff and sharing a look with Algeron.
“Better be thinkin’ about where you’re gonna put the horse,” Zoro says with one of his signature sneers, the one that always gets her blood pumping when they’re facing down enemies back to back.
Sanji hums, a smirk of her own curling up her lips. “Guess it might be nice to have something else to ride,” she says casually, showing teeth in her grin when he turns to shoot her a scathing look. “Options are good, right?”
A few people around them give them odd looks before moving away, and the attendant hides a snort in their fist as Zoro nearly blows smoke out of his nose in his frustration. Without another word to her, he turns back to the booth and picks up one of the rings.
He spends a moment judging the distance, gauging the strength he needs to use, and Sanji stands there with baited breath as he finally curls his arm and then throws the ring. It flies through the air, arcs down, and lands between a blue and purple bottle.
Sanji whistles, impressed. “So close, Mossman. You might even be almost at Longnose’s level.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Zoro mutters, picking up another ring. This one lands around a yellow bottle and he curses softly. “Might need to set up somethin’ similar for training on the Sunny. This is ridiculous.”
“I’m sure Franky can whip somethin’ together,” she muses, watching as the next two rings miss the bottles, though both glance off the sides of the bottles they hit. The last one catches on an orange one. She absently bounces Algeron in her hand, like she’s swimming it through the air. “I wonder if bein’ on a movin’ ship would make it easier or harder.”
Her swordsman doesn’t reply, too busy buying another round of rings. The first two land around orange bottles, and the other three miss but get close to landing on the blue bottles. Zoro curses again, and puts more beri down, and Sanji tucks Algeron close to her face, smiling into its plush fabric as, once again, he gets two rings around a yellow and red bottle respectively and misses the other three.
“Tough luck, Mossy,” she singsongs as he practically fumes. “Let’s find another game before you lose what money you have left and give yourself an aneurysm to boot.”
Surprisingly, Zoro doesn’t argue with her. He spares a dark glare at the bottles before turning on his heel and Sanji squeaks softly when he throws a large, heavy arm over her shoulders as they walk away, tucking her into his side. Her heart races at the gesture, feeling like the fairest of beautiful maidens against the warm length of her strong, plant-like knight.
Makes a woman want to swoon.
Happily, she curls as close as she can, basking in the feeling of safety that settles around her. She doesn’t need protection, can more than take care of herself, but she can’t lie and say she doesn’t enjoy the scarce moments Zoro decides to dote on her like this, keeping her close and wanting to do things for her that have no purpose other than personal enjoyment. There haven’t been many moments to just be like this since reuniting: just two people in love and infatuated with each other.
They should really go on more dates if this is the side Zoro is going to show her during them, she thinks.
Instead of finding another rigged game right away, they pause to buy some of the heavily deep fried food from one of the many stalls scattered around. Zoro gets a leg of meat and Sanji decides on a fried cake doused in powdered sugar, craving something sweet, and they find seats at a small picnic table set up in a cordoned off section. They don’t even look up as Luffy comes barreling through, simply knocking his grabbing limbs away from their own meals.
“Keep your disgusting hands to yourself or I’ll punt you all the way back to the Sunny,” Sanji warns him casually. She’s in too good of a mood for her usual ire with their rambunctious captain.
“But Saaaanjiiii,” Luffy whines. “They cut me off at the last stall!”
“Sounds like a you problem,” Zoro says through a mouthful of meat. Sanji swats at him and reminds him about the manners he doesn’t bother to use. “Did you see the bumper car ride?”
“BUMPER CARS?! WHERE?” With that, Luffy slingshots off in the direction Zoro points and Sanji breathes a sigh of relief.
“There’s not a bumper car ride, is there?”
“Dunno.” Zoro shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
They finish their meal in companionable silence, enjoying the atmosphere of the festivities while their feet knock together beneath the table and Algeron keeps vigil between them. Sanji pets its face with her fingers and ignores the knowing, smug look her swordsman sends her when he notices her brushing the single eye.
“This is nice,” she says, licking the sugar from her fingers.
“What?”
She gestures between them. “This. Going on a date where nothing exciting happens,” she clarifies. Her face feels warm as she looks up at Zoro through her bangs. “I just... I wouldn’t mind doing it more often, when we can.”
The way his face softens makes the butterflies in her belly start fluttering in a riot. He stands from the table and comes around to her side, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.
“Sure thing, Curls,” he says, gentle and tender like he so rarely is so publicly. “I’m havin’ fun, too.”
Her grin goes from small and shy to wide and shit-eating. “Even though you suck at carnival games?”
“Listen—”
The bickering continues as they toss their trash and wander away from the food stalls back towards the games. Sanji considers trying her own luck at a couple of them, but ultimately decides to save her money for when Zoro spends the rest of his own so that they can still ride some of the coasters and maybe even the big wheel at the center of it all.
The final game they come across—because, if Sanji has been keeping track correctly, which she has, Zoro is down to his last handful of beri which means he only has this last chance to accomplish whatever goal he has in mind—is, of course, a test of strength. She eyes up the tower, lit up and flashing merrily, the bell on top sitting innocently and teasingly seducing players into trying to prove their mettle. The thing’s easily twice as tall as Franky, and the attendant calls out to passing carnival goers, asking if they’d like to take a shot at hitting the bell and winning one of the great grand prizes.
At this point, she’s stopped paying attention to the spiel being given and simply watches with a smile as Zoro stomps up and thrusts the last of his money at the man gesturing to the tower. The man eyes her mossheaded burden up and down contemplatively, obviously judging the bulging muscles and the swords hanging at his hip, but ultimately reaches behind the tower to pull out the large sledgehammer to hand it over.
“Use of haki is prohibited and is an automatic forfeit,” he tells Zoro. “You get three tries to hit the bell, and if you don’t, your prize will be determined by how high your last hit goes.”
“I don’t need haki to hit the stupid bell,” Zoro grumbles in response, taking his place before the button on the ground that will send up the block along the tower. He barely takes a breath to gauge anything before he swings the hammer above his head and brings it down again.
Sanji doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until it rushes out as the block travels up the length of the tower faster than she can track. She’s sure it’s a hit, but instead is incredibly surprised as it slows almost suddenly a foot from the bell, not quite there before falling back to the base.
“So close!” the attendant cries out with a knowing grin. “Maybe this next one will be your lucky shot, sir!”
“What the shit!” Zoro bellows, having been of the same assured thought as her. “That’s cheating!”
Before she can scold him or assuage his temper, she hasn’t decided, Zoro lifts the hammer and slams it down again, even harder. Sanji nearly winces at the force of it, but once again the block slows right before it reaches the bell, as if caught in a syrupy molasses.
“Godsdammit!”
“Moss, it’s a rigged game,” she tells him, fond exasperation saturating her tone. “You knew this goin’ in.”
She’d wondered at the attendant’s brief pause as he’d reached for the hammer, no doubt pressing some kind of hidden button to recalibrate the tower’s sensitivity for a stronger competitor, as the person who had gone before Zoro had about as much muscle mass as one of Brook’s boney fingers. Of course there would be precautions like that, she muses. Everything is calculated, and any winners here are pre-chosen based on whatever inane criteria has been set.
This particular game isn’t about luck or chance, after all.
Zoro’s scowl could curdle milk as he bares his fangs. “It’s bullshit, is what it is.”
He isn’t wrong, but Sanji keeps her lips pursed as he raises the hammer one final time. There’s a flash in his eye, dangerous and feral that sends a shiver up her spine as he brings it down with much, much more force than he’d used before, and she knows right away that her stupid moss-for-brains other half has just gotten them kicked out of the carnival.
“Moss, no,” Sanji moans, dropping her head into her free hand as the block shoots up the tower, barreling right through the bell at the top.
It rings a pitiful clang before coming clean off, split neatly down the middle, the two halves crashing to the ground and scattering the few onlookers who shout in panic.
The attendant is already yelling for security, and Zoro simply tosses the hammer away with a sneer as he leaps over the prize stand and scoops up—to her immense surprise—not the biggest prize, but a small little stuffed duck. He comes back to her side as two beefy enforcers make their way over, glaring at the two of them as Sanji links their arms together.
“Time to make a break for it, Mossy,” she says cheerfully, and pulls him away before the enforcers can grab them or even get in a word edgewise. “Nami is going to throttle you.”
“Eh, I’m sure she’s gonna be on their shit-list by the end of tomorrow once they realize she’s been swindlin’ them,” Zoro says carelessly.
Sanji has to fight down a grin. “Hate to agree with you, Moss, but you’re probably right.”
“I know I am.”
He doesn’t put up a fight as she yanks them towards the exit. So much for riding the wheel, she laments, but she’s had plenty of fun already, and there will always be other festivals to attend.
Such is the life of a Straw Hat Pirate.
Back on the Sunny, Sanji beelines for the galley, intent on making up a batch of her own spiced cider for when the rest of the crew trickle back to the ship to warm them up. The chill of the island has slowly seeped into her bones, and she shivers as she lights a new cigarette and starts pulling out what she needs to get the brew going. She sets Algeron on the counter next to the sink, propping him up so he can observe her movements, and explains the steps to the recipe in soft tones while Zoro, the layabout, sprawls on the bench across the way.
“Here, Curls.”
Haki flaring, Sanji turns just in time to catch the little plush the brute throws at her head. She holds it out to assess it, and her breath hitches in her chest.
It is, in fact, a little duck, with big, beady eyes and a fat little body. The thing that has tears suddenly burning in the corner of her eyes, though, is the tiny little chef’s hat on its head, stylishly cocked to one side, and the pristine blue chef’s jacket it’s wearing.
She’s reminded so fiercely of Zeff that her heart aches. It’s about time she snails the geezer and tells him everything about the last two years—namely, that the man raised a daughter and not a son.
His reaction is sure to be priceless.
“Looked like your old man,” Zoro says softly, reading her mind, as always. “Figured you might like it.”
Sanji can’t help the crack in her voice. “I love him,” she replies quietly, bringing the silly duck to her face. She presses a kiss to the duck’s beak, then makes her way over to her swordsman to crawl into his lap and press a kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then, finally, his lips. “I love you.”
“Right back atcha, Curls,” Zoro says happily, brushing her hair out of her face and kissing the curl of her brow. “Sorry I couldn’t win you one of the big ones.”
“We don’t have room for them, anyway. Usopp’s gonna bring back more than he can carry as it is to send to Miss Kaya.” She waves the concern away with another loud kiss to his cheek and then curls up against him, holding the duck close. “This is more than enough. I had a wonderful time tonight, Mossy.”
“Me too. We should do it again sometime.”
“Mm, yeah, we should.”
They sit quietly until Sanji has to get up to stir the cider, where she also places the duck next to Algeron. Zoro sneaks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and setting his chin on her shoulder.
“What did you decide to call them?” he asks, feathering kisses over her cheek. She grins.
“The fish is Algeron. Algae for short,” she explains happily and laughs at the snort it gets her. “And the duck is Monsieur Canard.”
“You’re so weird,” he tells her, but he sounds overly fond and she giggles when he leans around to steal another real kiss. “Happy Yuletide, or whatever, Cook.”
She kisses him back, chest fit to burst with affection. “Happy Yuletide, Mossy.”