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“Mr. Sanji?”
Sanji glances down as soon as he hears the tired little voice and smiles brightly. “If it isn't my favorite customer! How are you today, Miss Kuina?”
Kuina lets out a long, exhausted sigh. “My dad’s lost again,” she says wearily. “Can I wait here for him?”
“Of course, darling, I left your usual seat reserved for you.”
He gestures grandly to the only part of the table not covered in bags and boxes, and Kuina hops up with familiar ease. Sanji hands her her usual almond croissant, and she begins munching on that with familiar ease, too.
“Any idea where he wandered off to this time?” Sanji asks, bracing his elbows on the table. Kuina rolls her eyes, and he bites back a grin.
“Ugh, who knows. He does this all the time. We come here every week and he still doesn't know where your stall is.”
“How does that happen, anyways?” Sanji asks, amused. “There's signs posted all over the place. He can't read a map?”
“He's da skull kick,” Kuina says sagely, and Sanji drops his chin in his palm as he watches her tear into her croissant.
“And what, may I ask, is the da skull kick?” he asks, trying not to laugh at her serious expression. She's getting crumbs all over her t-shirt. “Did someone kick your poor dad in the head?”
“That too, probably,” Kuina says around a mouthful of pastry. “But no, he's da skull kick. Words get all twisty in his head, and sometimes directions, too.”
“Ah, dyslexic.”
“That's what I said.”
“My bad, so you did.”
Kuina kicks her feet. “He always gets here eventually. It just can take him a while. Uncle Usopp gave him a watch with a phone in it so he could have a map on his arm but Dad said he didn't want his big brother watching him, which I thought was weird ‘cause he doesn't have a big brother, just Auntie Rona, and Uncle Usopp said his big brother is already doing that through his regular phone, and Dad got mad, and I said Auntie Rona’s his big sister and how could she watch him anyways, and then Dad doesn't wear the watch and he gets lost still. Can I have a napkin?”
Sanji hands her a stack of napkins, which she makes a cursory attempt at using to wipe her buttery fingers clean. “Big Brother is a character in an old book. Your dad was making a joke about the government keeping track of where he goes.”
Kuina squints at him. “Why would the government care where Dad goes? He goes in circles.”
Sanji bursts out laughing as he grabs the small wastebasket at his feet for Kuina to throw away her napkins. “Fair point. He could probably use that watch, huh?”
Kuina lets out a put-upon sigh. “No kidding.”
As if on cue, Zoro rounds the corner, laden with shopping bags and looking more than a little frantic as his eyes dart around the market. Sanji gives himself half a second to appreciate the sight, then raises a hand to catch his attention and cups the other around his mouth. “Oi, Marimo! She's over here!”
Zoro’s head snaps towards him, and his expression breaks in relief. He's too far away to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the market, but Sanji can clearly see him mouth oh thank fuck before he starts making his way over to them, eyes locked on Kuina.
“Brace yourself,” Sanji whispers, and Kuina makes a show of hunkering down on her corner of the table, expression resigned.
“Kuina!”
“Hi, Dad,” she says, and Sanji grins when Zoro transfers his bags to one arm so he can scoop her up with the other and drop her on his hip. Kuina consents to a single kiss on the cheek and about two seconds of hugging, then she starts scrambling around to crawl up onto Zoro's shoulders.
“How many times have I told you not to wander off?” Zoro asks exasperatedly. He barely moves as his daughter uses him as a jungle gym, save to hold out his arm a little to give her a better handhold as she shimmies up.
“I didn't wander anywhere,” Kuina says. “I was staying still looking at the oranges, and you wandered off without me.”
“That's it, I'm buying you that backpack leash,” Zoro mutters, and Kuina scowls as she makes herself comfortable on his shoulders, bending forward so she can look down at him.
“I'm buying you a backpack leash! You're the one who gets lost!”
“I don’t get lost,” Zoro grumbles. “They rearrange the market every damn weekend, nothing’s ever in the same place.”
Sanji makes amused eye contact with Kuina, who looks aggrieved. “You see what I have to put up with?” she asks, and Sanji snickers as Zoro groans.
“Holy hell, you sound like your mom. Thanks for watching her, Sanji. What do I owe you?”
Sanji’s smile doesn't fade at the mention of Kuina’s mom. He's an adult, and that's not news. It's just a good reminder.
“For babysitting?” he asks, and Kuina turns her glare on him now.
“I'm not a baby, I'm six.”
“For six-year-old sitting?” Sanji amends, and Kuina nods, satisfied. “No charge, she's good company.”
“I know the little menace tries to eat all your stock when she comes by,” Zoro insists. “Bug, what'd you have to eat?”
Kuina hesitates, clearly torn between loyalties. “Um, nothing?”
“Kid, I can feel the butter in my hair.”
Kuina sighs in defeat and sags over Zoro’s head, greasy fingers dangling in front of his chest. “Almond croissant.”
Zoro’s reaches for his wallet, but Sanji waves him away. “On the house. I gave her the squashiest looking one I had in stock, I couldn't charge for that.”
“He's telling a lie,” Kuina tries and fails to whisper in Zoro’s ear. “It was really pretty before I ate it.”
Zoro quirks an eyebrow at Sanji, who huffs. “All my croissants are pretty,” he says archly. “That one was just pretty and a little squashed.”
Not true. He always sets aside an extra large, fluffy croissant for Kuina on Saturday mornings, because this has become as much a part of his routine over the last few months as coming to the farmers market at all. Up at the ass crack of dawn, load up the truck, set up the table, sell some bread and pastry. Get a few minutes of sweet interaction with Zoro and Kuina and let that brightness carry him through the rest of the day, until he gets home and remembers why a few minutes a week are all he gets with them.
God, he's pathetic. He doesn't stop smiling.
“You try to pay me, I'll just take her to the security booth next time she shows up here,” he threatens. “She clears out my squashed croissants and keeps me company. Really, I should be paying you.”
“Oh, great, that'll be fifty bucks,” Zoro says immediately, and Sanji snorts.
“I said I should be paying you, not that I’m going to. Get lost now, don't you have groceries to put away?”
“All right, if you don't want us hanging around,” Zoro says. “Bug, say bye to Mr. Sanji.”
“Bye, Mr. Sanji!” Kuina says cheerfully. “See you next week!”
“Bye, Kuina,” Sanji laughs. “Keep an eye on your dad for me.”
Zoro flips him off, hand held low by his hip so Kuina won't see. “Bye, Mr. Sanji,” he says teasingly, and Sanji bites his lip on a grin.
“All right, Mosshead, get out of here before that infestation on your head spreads to my stock.”
“See you next weekend,” Zoro says, voice warm and fond, and Sanji waves him off. He keeps smiling until Zoro turns the corner and disappears down another row of tables and tents, then he drops his head into his hands with a low, pained groan.
Yeah, he's fucked.
Zoro and Kuina first started showing up at the farmers market at the beginning of summer. It was pure luck that Sanji happened to be there; Patty normally ran the booth, but the asshole broke his collarbone in a bar fight because he forgot he's not twenty anymore, and Sanji drew the short straw to take it over for him until he was healed up.
Hot dad and a cute kid. Sanji had appreciated the view, and the chatterbox kid who had happily introduced herself and her dad and told Sanji all about how she had learned about farms in kindergarten that year and begged her dad to drive her out to see some and go shopping at a real farmers market.
“It's about system ability,” she’d said solemnly.
“Sustainability,” Zoro had corrected.
“And supporting the local commie.”
“Local economy.”
“That's what I said.”
It had been cute and fun and enough of a mood lightener to make Sanji a little less miserable about getting pulled out of the kitchen to sit under a hot popup tent and deal with customers all day, but not anything he'd put any real thought into until he'd glanced down one day to see Kuina standing alone next to his booth, wringing her hands and looking around anxiously.
She wanted to come get an almond croissant. Her dad was right behind her just a second ago, and she didn't know where he went. She didn't know his phone number for Sanji to try calling him.
Sanji had gotten her a croissant, then cleared off a section of his display table for her to sit down while she'd calmed down and he tried to figure out what the protocol was for finding a lost kid. Before he'd come to a conclusion, Zoro had come barreling down the row of tents, hollering Kuina’s name. He'd gently scolded her for wandering off, though he was clearly too relieved to be properly upset, thanked Sanji profusely for keeping an eye on her, and left with her own his hip.
Sanji comped them the croissant and chalked it up as his good deed of the day.
And then, the next Saturday, Kuina had showed up by herself at his booth again. Then the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that, and she and Zoro hung out longer each time he eventually caught up to her, chatting and hanging out with Sanji, and now it's late fall and Sanji’s still running the damn booth even though Patty could have come back by now, and Zoro’s sarcastic and funny and unfailingly sweet to his daughter, and he's just so damn pretty with his green hair and the warm autumn sunlight glinting off his golden earrings… and the ring on his left hand.
Sanji’s never lacked confidence, at least not when it comes to this, but he's not about to actually make a move on a married man. He'll tease and joke and even flirt a little, he'll listen with rapt attention as Kuina recounts what she's learning in first grade this year, and then he'll get a bucket of cold water in the face whenever Kuina shows him the pretty bracelet her mom got her, or Zoro says Nami said to see if Sanji has any garlic bread to go with spaghetti that night.
He oohs and ahhs over Kuina's new bracelet, and he sells Zoro a loaf of cheese-covered garlic bread, and he pretends his heart doesn't jump when their fingers brush as he hands it to him.
He feels the first warning tickle in his throat Thursday afternoon. He powers through the rest of his shift, but Zeff sends him home two hours after he gets to the cafe the next morning when he starts coughing and can't stop. He sulks his way back to his apartment, downs some cough syrup, and wakes up three hours later feeling a thousand times worse. He shoots a text to Patty to tell him he's back on farmers market duty, cobbles together some lunch he can barely taste through all the mucus in his pounding head, and spends the rest of the day and that night in a feverish, nauseous, body-aching fog.
He wakes up some time the next morning to his phone vibrating on his bedside table. He fumbles for it it just enough to turn off, then squints when he sees the name on the screen. Why the fuck is Patty calling him when he's dying?
“Why the fuck are you calling me when I'm dying?” he groans as he lifts the phone to his ear. What the hell is it made of? Why does it weigh a thousand pounds?
“There's a kid here freaking out of her mind.”
Something clicks in the back of his fever-boiled brain, but Sanji can't quite tell what he's supposed to remember. “Okay? Handle it.”
“She's asking for you! I tried handling it and she freaked out even more!”
Asking for…?
Oh, fuck, Kuina.
“Fuck shit,” Sanji groans, scrubbing at his face. “Put ‘er on the phone.”
He hears fumbling and a distant “for you, kid,” then a soft, teary, “M-Mr. Sanji?”
Sanji sags into the pillows. “Hey, Kuina,” he croaks. “What's going on, sweetheart, are you okay?”
Kuina gulps. “I don't– there's someone else at the bread booth. Why aren't you here?”
“I'm sick, so I can't be around the food,” Sanji explains. “That's my friend Patty, he's running the stall today.”
“No, but– but you're always here. You're always here and I always get a almond croissant.”
“Patty can give you an almond croissant,” Sanji assures her, but Kuina makes a panicked noise.
“No! That's not– no, ‘cause you're not here, and– and I don't know where Dad is and what if he can't even f-find me–” She chokes back a sob. Sanji's pretty sure his heart breaks. Kuina’s been getting lost at the market every Saturday for months, and he's never seen her this panicked by it. “What if he's lost forever?”
“He's not lost forever,” Sanji says, trying to sound soothing when his throat feels like he swallowed a cheese grater. “He always shows up sooner or later, remember? You can wait with Patty, and your dad will–”
“But he won't know where to come! He always says go to Mr. Sanji’s stall if I'm lost, but if you're not here it's not your stall and maybe he can't find it and– and he could get so lost he leaves and doesn't come back and he'll never ever find me–”
Zoro tells her to wait at Sanji’s stall? Fuck, Sanji, not the point, focus on the crying kid, fucking fever–
“He'll find you,” Sanji says as firmly as he can. “He gets lost, but he's no dummy. He knows what the stall looks like even if I'm not there. Hey, Kuina, sweetheart, don't cry, I promise your dad is coming.”
“But what if he doesn't!”
“He will,” Sanji says. “You just told me last week, remember? Sometimes it takes him a while, but he always gets there. He loves you too much to leave you.”
Kuina sucks in a shaky breath. “You p-promise?”
“Yeah, darling, I–” Fuck, too much talking. He cuts himself off to hack into his elbow, wincing and gasping as it makes his head throb and the room spin. “Sorry, baby,” he croaks when Kuina makes an alarmed noise. “‘M okay, just a cough.”
“That sounds really bad,” Kuina says nervously. “Do you have medicine?”
“I do, it's okay,” Sanji says. “Don't worry about me, you just sit tight till your dad gets there.”
“Are you gonna be back next week?” Kuina asks. “Please?”
“I'll try,” Sanji says. “For now, Patty will give you an almond croissant if you want, and you can stay there till Zoro finds you.”
“Um… I don't know if…”
Sanji’s chest aches. “Do you want me to ask him for you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, can you put the phone on speaker for a second?”
“Excuse me, Mr. Patty? Um, Mr. Sanji wants to talk to you, please.”
More fumbling, and then Patty’s voice, carefully stiff and calm and with the static-y echo that says he's on speaker now. “Eggplant. Who is this child and why is she crying at me.”
“Her name’s Kuina,” Sanji rasps. “She and her dad come by the stall every week. Give her an almond croissant and clear off a patch of table for her to sit, Zoro should be by any–”
Clearly in the distance but still loud enough for Sanji to hear it over the phone, he hears a familiar voice.
“KUINA!”
“Daddy!”
“Sweetheart, bug, why're you crying, what's wrong, who–”
“I couldn't find you, and I couldn't find Mr. Sanji and I don't know Mr. Patty and Dad I was really scared–”
“Hey, man, sorry about your–”
“Who the FUCK are you, where's Sanji, what'd you do to my fucking kid?!”
“I didn't do anything! She just ran up and started crying!”
“Zoro,” Sanji croaks, trying to be heard through the phone before this escalates into a proper fight. “Hey! Mosshead!”
Jesus, he can hear Kuina crying in earnest now. Poor thing must be scared out of her mind with two grown men yelling over her head like that when she was already upset.
He can almost see Zoro gearing up to keep yelling, only to stop in his tracks when he hears Sanji’s voice. “Curly brow? Where the hell are you?”
“I have the flu,” Sanji says, aggrieved. “I'm at home. Patty works at the cafe with me, please don't kill him or I'll have to cover all his shifts–”
He coughs again, miserable and exhausted even though all he's done for twenty-four hours is switch between lying in bed and lying on his couch.
“Shit.” Zoro sounds more frazzled than Sanji’s ever heard him. “Yeah, that– shit, hey, Bug, you're okay. It's okay, sweetheart, everyone's okay.”
“I want Mr. Sanji,” Kuina wails.
“I'll be back next week,” Sanji promises weakly. Kuina either doesn't hear him or is too upset for “next week” to be much of a relief; she just keeps crying.
“Can I, uh, have my phone back,” Patty says awkwardly. Sanji hears more shuffling sounds, then the background noise cuts out as Patty must turn off speaker.
Sanji doesn't give him time to say anything. “Offer her an almond croissant on the house, apologize for upsetting her, and tell her again I'll be back next week, okay?” he says.
“I didn't upset her!” Patty hisses. “She just… got upset!”
“She's six, there's no difference. Free croissant and you're very sorry, you'll be nicer next time. Got that?”
“Why didn't you tell me there's a kid here who's obsessed with you?”
“Because I have the flu and I'm fucking dying,” Sanji snaps. The room is spinning and he can feel his heartbeat in his entire skull, adrenaline just making the fly symptoms worse. “Fucking hell, are they okay?”
“You two okay?” Patty asks. Sanji hears Zoro's muffled voice, but he can't make out any words. “Yeah. He wants to know if you're gonna make it.”
“I already said I will,” Sanji grumbles. “Okay, if that's everything, I gotta down a bottle of DayQuil, so goodbye now.”
He hangs up before he can do something stupid like ask him to put Zoro back on the phone, or offer to drive out there to prove he's okay, or invite them over for dinner as soon as he's well enough to host and has cleaned up the pile of used tissues by his bed.
One week later finds Patty back at the market, and Sanji showing up after he's finished setting up and dropping into a folding chair behind the table with him, finally healthy enough to leave his apartment but not to handle the food or run the booth himself.
He is, in theory, keeping an eye on inventory and the cash box. In practice, he's sagging in his folding chair with his chin drooping down to his chest, lulled into a doze by the familiar sounds of the market and Patty’s chatting with customers, at least until he hears–
“MR. SANJI!”
Sanji jerks his head up at the shout, blinking the fog out of his eyes to see an unfamiliar sight. Kuina approaching the stall: normal. Kuina dragging Zoro by the hand towards the stall: less so.
Kuina darting under the table and diving forward to throw herself at Sanji for a hug as soon as she's close enough: even less normal.
“Woah, hey, hi,” he says, swaying alarmingly as she collides with his legs just as he stands up, nearly knocking him back to his chair. “Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart, no hugs, I'm still a little sick.”
Kuina squeezes him even tighter for a moment like she's about to argue, then lets go with a sigh and steps back. “Are you feeling better, though?”
“I am,” Sanji assures her. “I just wanted to come by today and see you and your dad, in case he gets lost again.”
“You sound like hell, curly brow,” Zoro says as he steps up after Kuina, then raps his knuckles against the table. “Hey, Bug, out of the booth. Come on.”
Kuina sighs and wiggles back underneath the table, popping up on the other side and immediately grabbing Zoro’s hand. Sanji smiles at the sight, but it fades when he sees Zoro frowning at him.
“You're still sick?” he asks. “The hell are you doing here? Go get some rest.”
“Oh, I just…” Sanji clears his throat and rubs at the back of his neck, awkward. “She was so upset last week, I thought I'd come by just in case. You know. I felt bad last Saturday.”
Zoro grimaces. “Yeah, she's never lost both of us before.”
Sanji really hopes Zoro will attribute his suddenly-red cheeks to a lingering fever, and not his embarrassing reaction to both of us. “Yeah, I noticed. You okay now, Kuina?”
“Yeah.” Kuina shuffles her feet, looking suddenly shy. “I'm sorry you don't feel good, still. And I’m sorry for yelling at Mr. Patty.”
“That's all right, darling,” Sanji says sympathetically. “I yell at Mr. Patty a lot, too.”
Zoro winces and turns to Patty, too. “Yeah, sorry for trying to take your head off. Thought she was hurt.”
“Hey, I get it,” Patty says. “Eggplant’s grandad did worse to me when he was growing up.”
Zoro's lips twitch as he glances back at Sanji. “Yeah, I meant to ask about that. Eggplant?”
Maybe Sanji does have a fever, actually. His whole face is burning. “My old man’s weird,” he says weakly. “That's not my fault.”
“Mimi calls Dad Rabbit,” Kuina pipes up. “And Auntie Rona calls him Bunny, and she calls me Monster.”
It's Sanji’s turn to feel smug. “Bunny, huh?”
“Well, that's enough checking in for today,” Zoro says. “Bug, you wanna give Mr. Sanji your present?”
“Oh, yeah!” Zoro lowers his arm, and Kuina goes digging through the tote bag hanging from it, muttering to herself.
“We weren't sure you'd be here today,” Zoro explains while she roots through the bag. “Figured we could leave it with your coworker if you weren't.”
“Oh, you didn't have to get me any–” Sanji starts, but then Kuina emerges from the bag with a triumphant noise, brandishing a slightly-wrinkled yellow envelope over her head before she slams it down on the table in front of Sanji.
“I made you a get well soon card! So you'd feel better!”
Sanji’s mouth shuts with a click. He's going to blame his suddenly burning eyes on the last vestiges of the flu. “You did?”
“Yeah!” Kuina doesn't wait for him to take it; she tears the envelope open herself and pulls the card out, eagerly pointing out different points as she says, “See, Mom helped me pick out a card for when you're sick, it has a bumbly bee on the front saying ‘bee well soon,’ get it? And then on the inside I drew you in bed ‘cause you were sick, and those are balloons around you so you'll feel happy and that'll make you get better faster, and here's you at the market with all your bread after you got better, and that's me eating a almond croissant, and that's Dad in the corner with a bunch of question marks and arrows ‘cause he's lost.”
Sanji ducks his head, because he very definitely can't blame the way he's about to start crying on a flu he's mostly over. “That– that's really sweet, Kuina, thank you,” he says roughly. “I feel better already.”
Kuina’s bright smile fades as she looks up at him. “You don't look better. Did I make you sad?”
“I think Mr. Sanji’s just really tired from being sick,” Zoro says gently, reaching over to rub her back. “Why don't we get your croissant and get the rest of the shopping done so he can get some rest?”
“Oh, yeah, okay.”
Sanji flashes Zoro a grateful smile before he twists around, taking a moment to dab at his eyes before reaching for the carefully-boxed croissant he set to the side earlier. “Now I'm sorry to say I didn't make this one,” he says as he sets it on the table, “since I didn't want to get germs on it and get you sick, too. But don't worry, I watched Patty very closely to make sure he made it right.”
Kuina takes the box with a forlorn sigh. “It'll be okay, but I hope you can cook again soon. Yours are better.”
“Aw, thank you, darling,” Sanji says. “Marimo, you want anything?”
“You gonna let me pay for it?”
“Absolutely not.”
Zoro huffs. “You're sick, so I won't fight you on it. Got any cinnamon rolls?”
Sanji blinks. “Oh, we– I mean, yeah, but that won't be too sweet for you? We've got plenty of savories.”
Zoro meets his eyes, then his gaze flicks up for half a second before he looks away with a shrug, cheeks tinting pink. “Got a craving.”
Sanji’s mouth dries out. “Oh,” he squeaks. “Yeah, that's… Okay. One cinnamon roll coming right up, no problem, that's…”
He flaps a hand vaguely behind him, feeling a little frantic. Patty plucks a boxed cinnamon roll off the back table and presses it into his hand, expression carefully blank, and Sanji fumbles to hand it over to Zoro. “Enjoy,” he says breathlessly, and Zoro takes it with a frankly unfair smile.
“Thanks, curly. Come on, Bug, let's go pick out some veggies.”
“Bye, Mr. Sanji!” Kuina says around a mouthful of croissant, waving enthusiastically. “Feel better!”
“Bye, Mr. Sanji,” Zoro echoes, not quite laughing as he catches Kuina’s flailing hand in his own. Sanji’s knees almost buckle. Unfair. "Get some rest. We'll see you next week.”
“Bye,” Sanji says weakly, lifting his hand in a wave. He drops it when they turn around around, and it lands on the card still sitting open on the table. He stares at it, mind buzzing incoherently, and traces a finger over Kuina’s careful stick-figure drawings of them sitting at the booth together.
“Oh, you've got it bad,” Patty remarks from behind him, and Sanji scoops up the card, whirls around on one foot, and snatches his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Well, I'd better be going,” he says. “Lots of sleep to catch up on, naps to take, busy, busy, busy–”
“Have you asked for his number? Do you want me to ask for you?”
“I hope you choke,” Sanji hisses, yanking his jacket on almost violently and then carefully tucking the card into the inner pocket. “Never speak to me again.”
“You gonna hang that on your fridge?”
“So what the fuck if I am?” Sanji asks waspishly. “Go jump off a bridge.”
There's only a tarp hanging from the top of the tent, but Sanji slaps it shut behind him as violently as he can as he slips out the back. It's not as satisfying as slamming a door, and he can still hear Patty laughing at him as he stomps away.
His first morning back at work two days later goes about as well as he could have expected, considering he ends up on an opening shift with only Patty for company for the first two hours while they prep for the day.
“So…”
“No.”
“Farmers market guy.”
“We're not doing this.”
“Farmers market dad.”
“Shut up.”
“Hot farmers market dad.”
“Patty, I swear to–”
“You gonna ask him out?”
“This is harassment, I am being harassed–”
“'I've got a craving, Mr. Sanji,’” Patty mimics. “‘Can I get a cinnamon roll, Mr. Sanji, they make me think of your eyebrows, my daughter made you a get well soon card–’”
Sanji slams the dough down harder than he needs to and snaps, “Patty, he's fucking married, all right?”
He doesn't look up, just goes back to furiously rolling and kneading the dough on his bench. Patty’s close enough that Sanji can still see his grin fade out of the corner of his eye.
“He's what?”
“Married,” Sanji grits out. “To Kuina’s mom, asshole. Nothing’s ever gonna happen, so just… leave it.”
He hates how defeated he sounds. Anger would be easier, but he can't help it. As many times as he's reminded himself of why this whole thing is a waste of hope, it's the first time he's ever said it out loud.
Zoro’s married. Zoro’s a wonderful father and a devoted husband and Sanji’s just gonna keep getting his heart broken every Saturday because he can't stop being an idiot about him.
Patty’s quiet for a moment, actually focusing on his work for once as he frosts a tray of cookies. Sanji thinks for a moment that maybe he's gotten lucky for once and the bastard’s actually dropped it, then he says quietly, “He shouldn't be leading you on like that, then.”
That actually makes Sanji look up, startled. “He's not. He's just friendly.”
“I know your old man didn't raise you to be that stupid,” Patty says, shooting him an unimpressed look. “You know he was flirting with you. Been doing it for a while, right?”
Sanji presses his lips together and looks pointedly down at his own work. “Yeah,” he admits reluctantly. “A few months. But there's a big difference between a little flirting and…” He trails off, throat aching. There's miles between what he and Zoro have right now and everything Sanji wants. Vast, uncrossable oceans' worth of distance.
He clears his throat and makes himself keep kneading. “Point is, I'm not about to get in the way of that. It's just a little fun for him, and it's fun for me, and that's all it has to–”
Fuck. His voice breaks. Patty drops his icing bag on the counter, straightening in alarm. “Oh, holy– shit, Eggplant, I was kidding on Saturday. It's actually that bad, isn't it?”
“Don't make me cry in the fucking kitchen,” Sanji chokes out, pressing the back of his sleeve to his eyes to try to staunch the tears before they fall. “Fuck, just gimme a second to go pretend I need something from the pantry–”
“I always say I’m getting something from the fridge, it has better soundproofing,” Patty advises, and Sanji nods and squeezes his eyes more tightly shut.
“Good to know.”
He doesn't move. He was really hoping to have his inevitable Zoro-induced breakdown in privacy, but the thought of sitting alone on a box in the pantry—or the fridge, apparently, thank you Patty—and crying about a boy like he's a lovesick teenager again is just depressing.
“It's not his fault,” he says miserably. He can't make himself look up. “He was just having fun, I'm the one who got all– it doesn't mean anything to him and that's fine, it's fine–”
“Kid,” Patty says softly, laying a cautious hand on Sanji’s shoulder. When Sanji doesn't shake it off immediately, he squeezes a little more firmly and tugs him in for a hug, one hand sweeping up and down his back the way he used to do when Sanji was a kid.
Still in the same gentle tone, Patty asks, “When’s the last time you got laid?”
Because Sanji’s insane, that just makes him cry harder, overwhelmed as always at the way Patty and Carne have always tried to look out for them in their own way. “You're fucking disgusting,” he whines against Patty’s shoulder. “I’m not telling you that, I hate you–”
Patty keeps rubbing his back. “Yeah, kid, I know.”
“He's just perfect,” Sanji says with a sniffle, hiding his face against Patty’s uniform. “It's not fair that he's perfect.”
“No one who makes you cry like this is perfect,” Patty says flatly. “He didn’t seem stupid either, and you're not subtle. He's gotta know it's not just fun and games for you, so either he's looking to step out on his wife–”
Sanji shakes his head. Zoro's not disloyal.
“–or he's just yanking your chain for the hell of it.”
Sanji shakes his head again. Zoro’s not cruel, either. An asshole, sure, a jerk and a tease and a sarcastic little shit, but not mean.
Patty sighs explosively over his head. “Fucking hell, Eggplant. I don't know, then.”
“You're useless,” Sanji mumbles. “What I get for asking you, your relationship is perfect.”
“We're divorced.”
“Fucking… fairytale romance.”
“We've divorced each other twice.”
“Meet cute for the ages.”
“We tried to stick up the same convenience store.”
“I meet a perfect guy and I love him and I love his daughter and I'm just the guy at the farmers market he flirts with and doesn't ever think about again.”
His voice breaks again, but he seems to be out of tears for the moment, at least. He pulls away and wipes self-consciously at his wet cheeks, and Patty crosses his arms over his chest and leans one hip against the counter, watching him with a frown.
“All right, look,” he says. “I don't like that some fucker’s making you cry, but I'll say I don't think it's just shits and giggles for him, either. He asked about you about ten times before he left the week you were gone. Seemed real worried, wanted to know if you were okay.”
Sanji blinks. “He did?”
“Yeah,” Patty says. “Him and the kid both, once she calmed down. And they stopped by the booth first thing on Saturday, didn't they? You said they normally come by last, after they've done their shopping, but they checked on you first.”
“Oh, great,” Sanji says, a little hysterical. “So he's not fucking with me, he just wants to cheat on his wife with me. That's better.”
“Maybe they do that,” Patty says with a shrug. “Me and Carne fuck around sometimes.”
“You and Carne are divorced!”
“Yeah, happily. I dunno, just ask him what he's doing."
Sanji grimaces. That sounds like a terrible idea. Asking Zoro means getting an answer from Zoro, and he doesn't know what kind of answer could possibly make this situation easier. He can't think of a version of asking that doesn't end with him losing his soft Saturday mornings with Zoro and Kuina.
“Maybe I can just keep doing exactly this forever until he moves on and I get over it,” he says unconvincingly.
“You're gonna drive yourself insane,” Patty says with surprising sympathy. “Do you want me to take over the stall again?”
“No,” Sanji says, immediately defensive at the idea. “No, it's fine, I'll just… be normal about it.”
“You haven't been normal about anything a day in your life,” Patty says. Sanji opens his mouth to argue, but the son of a bitch goes in for the kill when he asks, soft and sincere, “Is this making you happy?”
Sanji stares down at the dough on his station, still waiting for him to finish kneading it. Sweet, easy moments with Zoro and Kuina, laughing at her irrepressible attitude and falling more and more in love with her dad every week, and having to remind himself at every turn that that was all he got.
“It's what I have,” he says quietly.
“That's not a yes.”
Sanji dredges up a smile for him and goes back to work, rolling and portioning off the dough for rolls. “Not a no, either.”
“Hey, curly brow.”
Sanji snaps his head up, startled. “Mosshead? Where's Kuina?”
“Showing Nami around,” Zoro says. “She's giving her the grand tour; I figured I'd meet them here.”
Sanji’s heart freezes in his chest. “Nami's here?”
“Yeah, she normally works weekends, but she got some free time today and Bug begged her to come with us.”
“That's great,” Sanji says automatically. “I think it's nice you make time to do things as a family.”
“Yeah, you know,” Zoro shrugs a little. He looks unfairly good, but when doesn't he? “It gets a little messy sometimes, but we try.”
“That's lovely,” Sanji says, and he's not even lying because it is lovely, it's charming and picturesque, Zoro and his wife and their little girl going grocery shopping together at a farmers market on a cool October day. They're probably going to go pick out pumpkins and carve jack o'lanterns later, and Sanji will pack up his stall and his dreams and go home and be fine.
So he's feeling a little maudlin. The dropping temperatures always do that to him; he's not built for cold weather. He wants to go somewhere with a beach where he can lay face down in the sand and have people only think he's sunbathing instead of pitying himself.
“You okay?” Zoro asks, and Sanji shakes himself out of his thoughts, some of which must be showing on his face, if the way Zoro’s frowning is any indication.
“Yeah, just tired,” he says with an easy smile. “The cold’s fucking with me a little.”
“Not still sick, are you?”
“No, no, I'm fine,” Sanji assures him. “Just poor circulation, I guess. It's fine, the market closes for the winter next month. Just another few weeks, then I can start spending my mornings indoors like a civilized human.”
Zoro doesn't smile. “Shit, I forgot they close. Kuina will be disappointed; she loves coming here to see you.”
Stupid heart, stop fluttering.
“Yeah?” Sanji asks with a grin. “You know you can always come by the cafe, too. We've got a better selection, and you can get things fresh baked instead of wrapped.”
“Yeah, I'd like that,” Zoro says. Why are his eyes so soft. “Think I'd miss you too if I had to wait till spring to see you.”
Sanji’s smile feels strained. This is… this is exactly what he wants, the soft, hesitant confession he's been daydreaming of for months, except it's terrible and unfair because Zoro has Nami, and not just that, but Nami’s here at the market, and Zoro can't be talking like that while she's here.
“Can you stop doing that?” he asks weakly. Zoro’s expression falls, becoming something uncertain and unhappy.
“You don't…? Sorry. I thought we were–”
“We were,” Sanji interrupts. “I mean, I was at least, but come on, this isn't fair. You've gotta stop.”
“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable,” Zoro says. He's the one who looks uncomfortable now, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Sorry.”
“I think I got too comfortable,” Sanji admits. He can't make himself look at Zoro directly. “I just… need to get my head together and it'll be fine, I'm not gonna fuck things up for you and Nami, but also seriously you shouldn’t be trying so hard to fuck things up for you and Nami, either, what the fuck?”
Zoro looks baffled. “How would me asking you out fuck up me and Nami?”
“Seriously?” Sanji asks with a strangled laugh. “You're asking me that like your wife isn't just a few aisles over?”
“My what?” Zoro looks, if possible, even more confused. “Nami and I aren't married.”
“Okay, well your– your partner or fiancée or spouse, I don't know, the syntax seems less important than the part where you're trying to ask me out right before introducing me to the mother of your fucking child!”
His throat aches as he tries to whisper and shout at the same time. Zoro absolutely deserves to get yelled at—stupid handsome sweet loving devoted dad of the year whose only flaw is, apparently, an ardent desire to fuck up his most important relationships for the sake of getting in Sanji's pants—but Sanji doesn't want his own personal drama caught up in the market’s gossip mill. The beekeepers across the way already give him knowing looks whenever Kuina and Zoro show up at his stall.
Zoro, for his part, looks like he's having some kind of revelation. “Wait, you thought…? Sanji, Nami’s gay. I'm gay, we've never been in a relationship.”
Sanji freezes with his mouth open to keep whisper-shouting. “You– what? But… Kuina?”
Zoro glances over his shoulder, then lowers his voice as he says, “We got wasted at a friend’s bachelor party a few years ago. Bug was kind of a surprise.” He frowns a little, but his lips are twitching as he watches Sanji try to process that. “You thought I was straight?”
“Well, okay, I thought it was weird,” Sanji admits faintly. “Why the fuck are you wearing a wedding ring?”
“Self defense,” Zoro says frankly. “A single dad at a PTA meeting is like chum in the water.” He looks a little sheepish. “If I take it off I'll forget to put it back on, and then the jig is up.”
Sanji's mouth flaps uselessly. “You wear a fake wedding ring to make people think you're married, and you're surprised that I also thought you were married?”
“Well, I thought–” Zoro finally looks flustered, which is gratifying. Sanji cuts him off before he can say something stupid enough that Sanji has to kill him for it; his fragile heart can't take much more of this rollercoaster.
“I thought you were trying to turn me into a homewrecker,” he says. “I've been losing my fucking mind for months about why this married guy is flirting with me so much!”
“I've been losing my mind for months about why you won't ever do more than flirt,” Zoro says. “I tried three different times to ask you out and you kept shutting me down, I thought maybe it was just ‘cause Kuina was right there–”
“I shut it down because of Kuina, because I adore her and I didn't want her to see you start an affair in front of her!”
Zoro's stupid small smile is back. “Adore her?”
“Of course I do, she's great,” Sanji says impatiently. “Go back to the part where you're an imbecile, we need to spend some time on that.”
“You could have just asked.”
“If your wedding ring was fake?!”
“HI MR. SANJI!”
Sanji jerks back from where he was leaning over the table to jab a furious finger into Zoro’s chest. Like last week, Kuina is barreling towards the stall, this time clutching the hand of a red headed woman as she hauls her towards Sanji. Also like last week, she immediately crawls under the table to pop up on his side, though she hesitates with her arms thrown out.
“Are you better now? Is hugging okay?”
Fuck, he's just gonna give up and go into cardiac arrest just to give his heart a break. “Yes, darling, hugs are wonderful.”
Kuina is wrapped around Sanji’s legs before he's finished speaking. “Hi, Mr. Sanji,” she says again, muffled where her face is pressed against his middle. “I'm glad you're not sick anymore!”
Sanji pats her head. “Yeah, I got this really great card that I think had magic healing powers. You know anything about that?”
Kuina giggles and tips her head back to grin up at him. “Mom says I'm the most Uniqlo talented artist in the world.”
“Uniquely,” Zoro, Sanji, and Nami say in unison.
“That's what I said.”
Kuina doesn't seem inclined to let go any time soon, so Sanji reaches over her head to hold out a hand to shake. “Hi, you must be Nami. I've heard nothing but good things.”
“Same,” Nami says with a grin. “Zoro hasn't shut up about you for months.”
Sanji lays his hand over his heart. “Marimo, you tell your not-wife about me?”
Zoro goes pink. “So?”
“Not-wife?” Nami asks blankly, then scowls and snatches Zoro’s hand up to glare at his ring. “Seriously?”
“Witch, I swear to–”
“‘I don't know why he keeps giving me the cold shoulder, we flirt every week then he just shuts it down, would it be creepy if I went to his restaurant to see him,’ and you were still wearing the ring?”
Nami waggles Zoro’s hand for emphasis as she mimics him. Sanji’s cheeks are burning, but he can't help but feel a little vindicated. It's nice to know he's been taking up as much space in Zoro’s head as Zoro has in his.
He glances down when he feels something poke him. Kuina's still wrapped around him, resting her head on his middle now as she looks up at him, pointy little chin digging into his stomach. “They do this a lot?” he asks, and she nods.
“Mom said Dad should ask you out,” Kuina informs him, and Sanji's cheeks get impossibly hotter. “Did he do it yet?”
“Didn't quite get around to it,” Sanji says, and Kuina rolls her eyes.
“What, did he get lost?”
Sanji snickers despite himself. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Are you gonna say yes when he asks, though?”
Sanji glances up for a half a second at Nami, still waving Zoro’s hand around as they have a furious, whispered argument; he can only hear bits and pieces, but he makes note of “pining idiot” and “ask him already” and “sick of your gay shit” to make fun of Zoro for later.
He grins down at Kuina as he strokes her hair out of her face, messy from running around the market all morning, crawling under his table, and then using Sanji as a human pillow.
“Yeah, kiddo, I think so.”