Work Text:
“Word of friendly advice,” cut in a friendly voice. Sanji glanced over the bar, eyeing the plaid-coated lumberjack and his similarly-dressed pals with a raised eyebrow. The man - long beard, thick coat, crow’s feet and smile lines in equal measures - nodded towards the end of the table.
Right at Chopper, who was napping on the floor in his Walk Point.
“You might wanna keep your pet at home,” lumberjack guy suggested helpfully, with a shrug. “It’s hunting season on the island, and anything furry is fair game. If he's walkin' around without y'all, he's ours, y'hear?"
All of Sanji's focus immediately went to self control, before he put a foot through the guy's face.
"Right," he bit out, because 'thanks' wasn't an option. Then he spun on his heel, marching back to their spot and slamming the drinks down with more force than necessary.
The rest of the crew blinked at him, ending whatever conversations they were having, and Sanji winced. "Sorry," he told them, shaking his head. "Gimme a minute to cool off. Go ahead."
With the express permission, Usopp slowly went back to his story, an enraptured Luffy and Brook nearby. Franky interrupted with gusto, and suddenly the conversation was back to normal.
The noise startled Chopper, who cracked open one sleepy eye to survey the damage. Before Sanji could stop himself - before he could think at all, driven by the man's words and the tight ball of emotions in his chest - Sanji stretched a hand down to set on Chopper's head.
"It's okay, it's just the idiots," he said, voice low and fond. He tried not to care; who would hear him anyway, over the screaming match of his crew's conversation? "Go back to sleep."
It was a show of trust like none other that Chopper smiled at him, tired but real, and then dropped his head to do exactly that. It was only after his little chest started rising and falling again that Sanji realized he hadn't let go of their youngest.
Across from him, Robin and Zoro watched with neutral expressions, ever observing. Their gazes were joined by Nami, right next to him, who alternated between eyeing the bar as a whole and watching him carefully.
In a normal day, Sanji would cheerfully swoon over Nami and Robin's attention, and berate Zoro for his misplaced gaze. But this was hardly normal.
"It's the plaid jackets near us," Nami announced to their small bubble, eyes narrowed and voice sharp. "They said something to you. You keep looking over there. Do we need to fight them or what?"
"They don't seem aggressive," Zoro said. Which would usually start a fight on its own, but it was just a statement. Seeming aggressive and being aggressive were two different things, a concept Zoro knew intimately.
No. He was clearly making a note, reading visible weaknesses, gauging threats. Backing Sanji up, in his own way.
"They're not a threat," Sanji confirmed. Another round of fury burned through him, and he rubbed the back of Chopper's ear just to hear his sleepy snuffle. "It's deer hunting season. They said Chopper needs to go, or they'll get him."
A blip of silence, and then Zoro snorted.
"I'd love to see them try," the swordsman said, leaning back with a smirk.
All at once, Sanji felt the tension in his shoulders go slack. When he glanced over at the men again, he didn't see villains or a threat to Chopper's safety or the danger he'd felt so viscerally.
No, he saw civilians who had no idea what Chopper was. Who didn't know just how protective his friends were. Who didn't realize they'd given bad advice to Chopper's brother.
Sanji's hand carded through Chopper's fur, the way he remembered warm fingers running through his own hair a lifetime ago. Those hands tried to protect him too, back then.
"Yeah," he agreed, meeting the shark-like smiles at the table with one of his own. "Just let 'em try."