Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Please state your name for the record.”

The room is as boring as the rest of the prison. Bars on windows that are too high up to see anything of the outside world, let alone reach. Grey floor, grey walls, grey chairs. Even the committee’s suits are grey. The only colorful thing in the whole fucking room is Sanji’s uniform, and he didn’t even chose that. That’s what it has all come to, a reality as bleak as the prison food before his input.

“Sanji Black,” he finally states. After all these years, it’s still a satisfaction to utter this name, the name he chose, and not the name that connects him to his birth family.

“Thank you.” The corrections officer marks something down on the papers in front of her. If it wasn’t dismal enough that this wonderful lady is wearing a grey suit, it also fits her poorly. Someone really needs to advise these corrections officers on their fashion choices. “Mr. Black, the purpose of this meeting is to determine whether, if released, you are likely to break the law again. While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about this?”

It had been unfortunately unlucky that it turned out this way. The plan had been good, the loot even better. Someone had let him down, and he’d been caught, charged and judged for the first time. A tiny voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like the mosshead’s claims ‘he’d told him so’. What utter bullshit. Sanji puts on his most charming smile because ladies, even this one, do not deserve anything less, no matter their terrible life choices. “As you say, I’ve never been charged.”

“Mr. Black, we’re trying to determine if there was a reason you committed this crime, or if there was a reason you got caught this time?” The officer asks. The other two stay silent, merely staring at him with blank faces as if that would somehow intimidate him. It has always been harder for him to charm men, not that he’d tried many times. A fact that could very well become a problem in the next few weeks due to some unexpected realizations about his own feelings.

“My wife left me. I was upset. Got into a self-destructive pattern.” Sanji shrugs to emphasize the point.

The officers exchange a glance. “If released, is it likely you would fall back into a similar pattern?”

“She already left me once. I don't think she'll do it again just for fun.” Besides, from what he has gathered from the fallout at the time, Pudding is with Reiju now. There is nothing more humiliating than your wife leaving you for your much richer sister who hasn’t cut off the even richer family. Not that he wants to insinuate anything. Or that he’s still bitter about it.

One of the other two officers speaks up. “Mr. Black, what would you do if you were released?”

Sanji pretends to think on that. “No idea. How much do you guys make a year?”

Chapter Text

The suit still fits perfectly. With a few beri bills, the divorce papers Pudding has sent him, and his old wedding band, Sanji makes his way from Impel Down to East Blue Capital, straight to Shimotsuki Casino. The place is sandwiched between a dojo and a bar. It is totally unclear how the bar makes any money because anyone who wants to drink can do so at the casino. In fact, Sanji has never even set foot in the bar.

Inside, the casino looks the same as it did two years ago. Golden wallpaper covers the length of the walls, reflecting the light from the chandeliers. Heavy green rugs sprawl on wooden floors, dotted with black tables and golden pachinko machines. Despite the crowd, money and alcohol, there is a faint smell of steel underneath it all that never seems to go away. On top of it all: the clack clack clack of the machines, shuffling of cards, clinking glasses, numbers being called out, roaring laughter, and the occasional shout of joy. Sanji takes it all in, and the muscles in his shoulders relax a little.

A look around reveals a lot of people, but no green hair. Undeterred, Sanji makes his way over to the exchange. Most of his money comes back in the form of chips. They feel cool and smooth in his hands, and make a familiar clicking sound that promises wins. With his last bill, Sanji orders a whiskey on the rocks at the bar. It might not be the best idea for his first drink after prison, but it’s in honor of Zoro. Who does not seem to be here. If he was, he would steal Sanji’s drink and look all smug doing it. Sanji takes a tentative sip. The drink goes down with a burn and Sanji suppresses a shiver. Whiskey really is something you can only enjoy iced.

A stroll over the floor doesn’t offer any sign of Zoro either. Not at the bar, not at one of the tables, not even on the machines. The Shimotsuki has always been Zoro’s home turf. If Zoro is still in the East Blue, he’d be here. It’s only been two years. That much can’t change in two years. Right? And if it did, how the fuck is he supposed to find Zoro?

With a sigh, Sanji sits down at one of the blackjack tables. The dealer is an unknown face and Sanji nods to him, depositing his glass at the edge of the table. He places a bet, if only to kill some time. Zoro has to turn up eventually. Sanji’s a bit hazy on the time, so it might be too early for Zoro to show his face yet. While he sips his drink and glances around the place, Sanji identifies two of the pit bosses and wins three rounds.

That’s when the dealer excuses himself, and another takes his place. Sanji empties his glass and looks the new guy in the face. He smiles. The round face, long dark braids and immaculate beard are more than familiar. It’s not Zoro, but it’s good enough. “Hey Jinbei.”

The other man looks up quickly and there's recognition in his eyes for the fraction of a second before he schools his face. “I’m sorry, Sir. You must have mistaken me with someone else.” Jinbei shuffles the cards with one hand and taps his name tag with the other. “My name’s Saigo.”

A quick look at the name tag confirms the story. Sanji shrugs. They all have to do whatever it takes to get by. Some go to prison, others change names. Same difference. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sanji notices one of the pit bosses walking past their table again. “My mistake,” he offers, grabbing his chips and his empty glass. “The table’s cold anyway.”

“You might try the lounge at Fishman, Sir,” Jinbei suggests. That’s the bar next door. “It gets busy at one.”

Sanji nods to show he’s heard, but doesn’t reply. He returns his glass, trades his chips for cash, notably more than he started with, and walks out of the casino. Jinbei is a good lead. He’s been working in the casinos of this world forever, has tons of connections, and knows Zoro well. If anyone here can tell Sanji where to look, it’s gotta be Jinbei.

***

If he’d known that the Fishman has the prettiest waitresses, Sanji would’ve come here sooner. Although Zoro has never been particularly interested in pretty girls and Sanji had been married since before he went to prison, so it was kind of a moot point. All the more reason to enjoy the view now.

The vibe and color scheme are distinctly different from Shimotsuki casino. The wallpaper is a dark navy color, the floor tiles are laid out in intricate patterns in different shades of blue. The whole place is dotted with fish tanks, from a tiny bowl on the bar to a huge tank that lines the entrance corridor. It gives the whole place the eerie effect of being under water. Sanji sits in a booth with his second whiskey. On his left, instead of a wall, there is, of course, a fish tank, through which he can observe the entrance. He has so far discouraged two women and one man trying to sit with him. What does a guy have to do to look at his fish in peace?

Out of habit, Sanji keeps his eyes and ears open for slivers of important information. What that would be, he doesn’t know. He’s been out of the loop for two years, so any information on any of the people he knows would do. Unfortunately, most people present at the bar are supremely dull. The question where Zoro might be is a much more pressing one. East Blue Capital had been their space, their hunting ground, home base. But no sign of Zoro. Maybe he’s moved somewhere else. While this is certainly possible, it also begs the question of where Sanji stands with the guy. Moving without notice might mean the man doesn’t want to talk to him anymore which is simply unacceptable. They had their disagreements before Sanji had been caught, but certainly that doesn’t mean Zoro is done with Sanji. Another possibility would be prison. Sanji grimaces at the thought. Without him, the possibility is high that Zoro had done something reckless that landed him in prison. Which would make it impossible to track him down without a hint from someone. It would also, inconveniently, throw a wrench in all of Sanji’s carefully thought out plans. He wants Zoro on this job. Not even necessarily for his skills, although those are very welcome too. No, this has more to do with the discovery of some inconvenient feelings, and what they might mean outside of the sort of confinement that would drive anyone to extremes. To figure that out, he does need to see Zoro in person.

“Are you trying to figure out how to cook one of these?” Jinbei looks between Sanji and the fish tank with a raised eyebrow before sitting down.

Proof that Sanji needs to pay more attention to his surroundings. “Saigo?” He asks.

“Nice to meet you. Jinbei Knight couldn’t get past the board.” Jinbei eyes Sanji’s drink. “Did you just get out?”

Sanji takes another sip, overstating the enjoyment of his drink. “This afternoon.”

“And already turning over a new leaf,” Jinbei observes.

Sanji smirks for a second before leaning onto the table and into Jinbei’s space. Enough small talk. There’s only one thing he wants to know. “Have you seen him?”

Jinbei half-shrugs, not in the least surprised by the question. “Last I heard he was in Grand Line Central, teaching poker to some young upstarts.” Jinbei hesitates. “Why? Do you already have something planned?”

Sanji puts down his glass and leans against the backrest, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What are you talking about? I just got out.”

Jinbei stares at the fish tank in the middle of the room and frowns. When he finally turns back to Sanji and registers his expression, he smirks. “Why did I even ask?”

Sanji shrugs. Downs his liquor. Pointedly looks over at the entrance. Jinbei nods in response and stands. In the hallway, Sanji spots a pay phone and waves Jinbei out while he stops. He fumbles in his pockets until he finds the slip of paper the prison guards have handed him. He dials the number. Despite the time, it takes only one ring for the other person to pick up.

“Hello, Officer Drake? This is Sanji Black. I just got out and was told to call you by the end of the day.”

The voice at the other end of the line is smooth. “Mr. Black, glad to hear from you.” There’s some paper shuffling. “Are you staying out of trouble? No gambling, no drinking?”

What a blessing that pay phones don’t have video. “No, Sir, I wouldn’t dream of drinking.” Sanji checks the corridor, but there’s no one around to make an unhelpful comment.

“Good.” Some click-clacking on a keyboard. “You better keep it that way. Are you still in the city?”

Sanji smiles brightly. “Officer, who do you take me for? I love Marineford.”

Drake chuckles. “Okay, Mr. Black. Make sure to call me again in a week from now.”

“You got it.” Sanji hangs up before the officer can say anything else. On the way outside, he pulls his pack free and lights a cigarette. He inhales deeply. So Zoro is in Grand Line Central. What a convenient coincidence. That’s exactly where his birth family’s casinos are as well. He joins Jinbei by a streetlight, then follows him down the road.

“It’s gotten more difficult every year in our line of work,” Jinbei sighs. “More surveillance, everyone’s afraid. What are you gonna do? Steal from regular citizens?”

Sanji makes a face. “That would be criminal,” he scoffs. Robbing regular citizens is a total hassle, and most people don’t have enough money to get by every day. No. The only worthwhile target are the super rich. They are stealing from everyone else anyway. The one target that interests him at the moment is the Vinsmoke fortune. Plus a little security, so that Judge can never come for him ever again.

“Then what?” Jinbei sounds genuinely curious now. “The only place that still has cash is…”

“Casinos,” Sanji helpfully supplies when Jinbei trails off.

Prison is, for the most part, utterly boring. He’s had a lot of time to think. To hatch a plan. Pick a target. Exploit every single one of his family’s weaknesses he’s aware of. Ichiji and Niji are usually caught up in their own stuff, and with the upcoming fight, they won’t be useful to anyone. Yonji is ruthless, but thoughtless. Reiju is keeping an eye on all of them, and she’s doing the annual inspections to which she probably brings Pudding. The moment Reiju leaves will be the perfect moment to attack. He just has to make sure that it coincides with the fight, and they’re set.

“Oh no…” Jinbei looks as if it suddenly occurred to him that he doesn’t actually want to have this conversation. “When?”

“Soon.” Sanji kills his cigarette on a streetlight and immediately lights another one. “Do you want in?”

Jinbei smirks. Sanji chuckles. That’s what he thought. He’s missed this. It will be fun. He just needs to find Zoro.

***

The only thing Grand Line Central has going for itself is the casinos. For people like him, that means gullible customers and easy money. For everyone else, it’s the promise of quick hookups, endless drinking and big money. No wonder Zoro has moved his business here. In this city, you always have to be on. On your toes, on your best game. It’s a welcome challenge, and gruesome work at the same time.

Sanji resists going to one of the Vinsmoke casinos first thing upon arrival. They’ll know soon enough that he’s in town, and out for their money. He doesn’t have to announce his presence weeks in advance. Instead, he uses the information Jinbei provided him with and asks around for Zoro. The trail leads him to a nightclub that blasts noise Sanji wouldn’t ever call music, and is so packed with people that it’s hard to get a foot on the ground.

With practiced ease, Sanji moves through the mass of people, smiling at every pretty lady he comes across out of habit. At the bar, he orders a whiskey on the rocks again, in the hopes it will lead him to Zoro this time. Third time’s the charm. With his drink in hand, Sanji leans against a pillar from where he can observe most of the room. He waits for half an hour until Zoro emerges from a back room, looking about as exasperated as Sanji has expected. While Zoro walks up to the bar, Sanji slinks by and takes himself through the back door. A small corridor leads him to a badly lit back room where four young people sit around a poker table. They have water bottles on the table and chat among themselves in low voices. Drinking water at a poker game seems like the original sin. Zoro really has his work cut out for him.

Sanji puts on his most charming smile and steps into the room. “Good evening folks, mind if I join you?”

They stare at him helplessly for a second, obviously out of their depths. Then all heads swivel to a pink-haired guy with round glasses who valiantly takes on the conversation. “Sure, why not? Take a seat.”

“Thanks.” Sanji takes one of the empty chairs, folds his legs and places his drink onto the table. “The name’s Black. Mind if I smoke?”

They exchange glances again, and it seems glasses is the designated speaker for now because he says “Go ahead” with a wave of his hand, as if he already wants to dispel some smoke from the room. He follows up with his name, Koby, which prompts the other three to utter their names as well. Sanji nods at each of them when they introduce themselves. He lights his cigarette just as Zoro walks in, whiskey neat in hand. A long scar slashes through his left eye, and Sanji has to force his face not to betray any emotions because that definitely wasn’t there the last time he’s seen the guy. The immediate urge to stab whoever is responsible and take their eye out in retaliation overcomes Sanji and he grips his glass, hard. He swallows the sentiment and keeps his eyes on Zoro.

“Hey Roronoa, we have another player,” Koby announces, thereby cementing his role as the speaker of the group. He gestures at Sanji, “if that’s alright.”

Zoro’s eye finds Sanji’s face and betrays nothing. “What’s this?”

Sanji smirks and gestures towards the door with his cigarette, disseminating smoke just to get under Zoro’s skin. “The bouncer mentioned there was a game in progress. I hope I’m not intruding.” He is definitely not intruding. He has never seen Zoro that bored in his life, and they’ve been through some boring stuff. His appearance is the most interesting thing that’s happened in Zoro’s life today.

At least he hopes it is. They haven’t parted on the best of terms.

“No intrusion-,” Koby starts.

“What was his name, the bouncer’s?” Zoro demands, ignoring Koby and gesturing towards the door.

Sanji holds his gaze. “I don’t remember.”

Zoro rolls his one remaining eye and Sanji has to bite his tongue not to ask about it. Zoro keeps his eye on him and sits on the last empty seat. “A card player with amnesia. Fun.” He takes a big swing from his glass and picks up the deck of cards.

While Zoro shuffles, Koby turns to Sanji. “What do you do for a living, Mr. Black?”

The glance Zoro throws Sanji is so quick and his dealing so smooth that nobody notices. Sanji suppresses a smile and turns to Koby. “I’m just out of prison.” He has nothing to be ashamed off. He got caught one time. The other twenty-something times he got away with it.

Koby and Helmeppo exchange a glance before Koby turns back to Sanji. “Really?”

“Really,” Sanji confirms, not looking at Zoro at his next words. “Two cards.”

Zoro deals him the cards without comment and turns to the young ones. “Helmeppo, you’re showing again.”

Helmeppo quickly tugs his cards close to his chest, looking around to see if anyone has taken a peak. “Sorry.”

“So what did you go to prison for?” Tashigi asks, seemingly unperturbed by the fact itself.

“I stole things.” Sanji shrugs and checks his cards before he lays them on the table. He is absolutely going to win this. The only question is how high he and Zoro can drive these kids.

“What did you steal? Money? Jewelry?” Tashigi has called one card and now holds them down on the table, careful not to repeat Helmeppo’s mistake.

Sanji glances at Zoro for the fraction of a second.

Zoro’s eyes flick from his cards to his face and then over to Tashigi. After a beat, he supplies, “Seastone.”

They exchange glances again. Tashigi leans over to Isaku to whisper something to her to which Isaku nods. She fixes with Sanji with a look. “From a mine?”

“Marines,” Sanji replies. The Marines are the only other entity besides the super rich he is willing to steal from, after all.

“Is there any money in seastone?” Helmeppo asks.

Sanji takes the last drag from his cigarette before he stubs it out in an ashtray. “Some.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Helmeppo,” Zoro glares across the table. “There’s lots of money if you can move the seastone safely from under the marines’ noses. Which is impossible.”

“My fence seemed confident enough.” It had been Pudding’s contact. Zoro and Sanji had disagreed about it. Zoro had pulled out of the job, Sanji had landed in prison. The rest is history. It’s impossible to verify if Pudding set him up at the time. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.

Zoro doesn’t even look at him. “One card for me,” he deals himself a card. “If you’re dealing with cash, you don’t need a fence.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow at that. “Some people just lack vision.”

“Probably everyone in cell block E,” Zoro shoots back.

From the looks the kids are exchanging, it’s obvious they have caught on. Sanji keeps his eyes on Zoro. “Well, that’s all behind us now.”

“I should hope so.”

Sanji smiles at him while he pulls out his wallet. Time to put their relationship and connection to the test. He knows he can win this game, and it’s time to win big. He needs a new suit. He also needs to make sure that he can still work as effortlessly with Zoro as he used to. Two years have cost Zoro an eye and Sanji a wife, so many things could have changed. He wants Zoro on the job, but only if they’re both playing the same game. He pulls out some of the money he won at the Shimotsuki. “I raise you five hundred dollars.”

The kids go silent immediately and throw around glances at each other and at Zoro. Zoro is still staring at Sanji, eye narrowing almost imperceptibly. Sanji keeps his smile plastered on his face.

Slowly, Zoro leans back into his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. “Guys, what’s the first rule of poker?”

Helmeppo starts stammering, but Koby cuts in. “Leave emotion at the door.”

“Exactly.” Zoro taps a finger against his glass. “My friend here just raised me out of pique.”

Sanji is a pro. Which is why he doesn’t smile. The game is finally on, and they are going to cash in big tonight.

“Today’s lesson,” Zoro throws each of the kids a heavy look, “how to draw out a bluff. This early in the game, that much money, I’m thinking he’s holding nothing better than a pair of face cards. Tashigi, raise him.”

Tashigi separates some chips from her stacks. “Five hundred, and another two?”

Zoro nods.

Koby throws some of his chips into the middle. “Plus three.”

“What?” Helmeppo looks at the chips in the middle with big eyes.

“Indeed,” Zoro encourages Koby, and throws some of his own chips into the middle of the table. “But be careful you don’t push him too high too fast. Want to keep him on the leash. I call. Helmeppo’s turn.”

Helmeppo still stares at the money and chips in the middle of the table. “So that’s a thousand?”

“You just have to call,” Zoro replies, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Sanji can pick that out easily. Helmeppo doesn’t seem all that observant, but Koby or Tashigi might have picked up on one or two of the marimo’s tells. It is impossible to say at this point. The only thing that’s abundantly clear is how bored Zoro is with all of this. He’s only doing this job because he can drink as much as he wants, and for the money he makes off of these kids.

“Come on Helmeppo, don’t hold up the game,” Isaku pushes.

Helmeppo gives in with a sigh and a last look at Koby before he pushes his chips into the middle of the table.

Sanji glances around the table. He knows that Zoro knows that he has this game in the pocket. Helmeppo is whispering to Koby now, clearly uncomfortable with how much money they’re currently betting. There’s a few thousand beri on the table. Not enough to buy a decent new suit yet. “Whatever Roronoa here might say, I always check my cards before I make a bet.” Sanji eyes Koby out of the corner of his eye. He’s the only one of the kids who doesn’t seem that fazed by all that money. “Be careful Koby, I can tell from your face that you have three of a kind or better.”

Koby doesn’t react, his face carefully schooled.

Sanji smirks and fishes some more money out of his wallet, shoving 2500 beri into the middle of the table. “Five hundred to call, and two grand more.”

Sanji catches Zoro’s eye. Zoro stares back, his features unmoving. He’s always been hard to read, especially when he’s conning someone.

“You’re all free to do what you want. It’s a lot of money. But I’m staying. He’s trying to buy his bluff out,” Zoro announces to noone in particular. He’s giving the kids an out if they want it.

Helmeppo is still furiously whispering at Koby. Tashigi communicates with Isaku through eye movements alone. In the end, one by one, they all throw their money in the middle.

Zoro follows suit and holds Sanji’s gaze. “We call.”

Sanji doesn’t bother saying anything, but he breaks eye contact with Zoro when he puts his cards down face up. Four of a kind.

Helmeppo looks like he wants to fly over the table to lunge at either Zoro or Sanji. Isaku and Tashigi stare at the cards in front of Sanji. Koby fiddles with his glasses for a moment, then forces his hands into his lap. Zoro does such a good job at looking flustered that even Sanji is fooled for a second. The asshole has definitely stepped up his game in the last two years.

“Fuck.” Zoro runs a hand through his green hair. “Sorry guys, I was sure he was bluffing.”

With his most charming smile, Sanji collects the pot, bills and chips alike. “Thanks for the game, guys.”

***

After he’s exchanged the chips for actual cash, Sanji follows Zoro out of the venue. There’s still a long line of people at least ten years younger than them trying to get into the club. The area is lit by street lamps and neon signs. Zoro is wearing a surprisingly expensive suit that hugs his body in all the right places. Despite the fabric, Sanji can tell the other man is in even better shape than two years ago. When his gaze drops down the other man’s back, Sanji catches himself and fishes for a cigarette. Zoro waits for him once he’s pushed through a throng of young people, then leads the way. Sanji lights his cigarette and keeps his gaze at eye level. They’ve pulled off a con right of the bat, so things are looking good. The only thing Sanji needs to do now is convince Zoro to do the job with him. Preferably without blurting out all his pent up feelings in the next half hour.

Zoro walks towards a poison green convertible that is parked in a no parking zone. Some things never change. Sanji takes the passenger seat and, with the roof off, doesn’t bother putting out his cigarette. Zoro backs out of his spot, one arm over Sanji’s backrest, and steers them into traffic. Smoking in a convertible on a mild summer night makes even Grand Line Central bearable. Sanji enjoys the wind in his face, the nicotine hit, and Zoro’s proximity.

At the next traffic light, Zoro speaks up. “That was…”

“Unprofessional?” Sanji offers. Probably not best business practice to rob your clients blank. Even if they are rich.

Zoro huffs. “Did you get my cookies?”

“Did Perona make them?” Zoro might be a decent enough cook, but he sucks when it comes to baking. So unless Zoro has picked up a domestic partner, Perona seems like the most sensible option.

Zoro grunts in confirmation.

Sanji chuckles. “Of course I did, why do you think I came to you first?”

“Because I’m such good company?” Zoro tries.

Sanji snorts. With the cigarette stuck between his lips, he wiggles in his seat to get to his wallet. He takes out the bills he just cashed in and divides them equally in two. Putting his wallet away, he holds half of the bills out to Zoro. “Your share.”

Zoro doesn’t take his hands off the wheel. “You barge into my new workplace and ruin my reputation, and all I get is ‘your share’?” He huffs. “The least you could do is tell me you have something better for me.”

“I have something better for you.”

Finally, Zoro takes the offered money and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. They don’t talk while Zoro drives them into the parking lot of a diner. Going to Zoro’s apartment would somehow tip the odds in his favor, and Sanji is grateful for the neutral ground. They choose a booth and order coffee and donuts. Bad diner coffee and shitty donuts always taste like a job well done. Even if it’s a small job, and the prelude to something so much better.

When their order has been placed on the table between them, Zoro takes a sip from his coffee and Sanji’s gaze drifts to Zoro’s face. “What happened to your eye?”

Zoro chuckles. “You held that in pretty long.”

“Just spit it out.” He hates how well the guy knows him. It makes it impossible for him to run a con on Zoro. He’s tried once. It ended with a broken leg. How long he’s going to be able to keep his new insights into his own feelings to himself before Zoro sniffs them out is impossible to tell.

“Training accident,” Zoro shrugs. “How’s Pudding?”

Sanji makes a face. “Divorced.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow, but instead of asking anything else, he takes a bite out of a donut. “Okay, tell me. About the job.”

Sanji leans forward onto the table. “It’s never been done before. So we need to stick to the plan, and we need a big crew.”

“Weapons?” There’s a glint in Zoro’s eye.

Sanji rolls his eyes. Typical. “Guns, but not loaded ones. You cannot, in any circumstances, bring your swords.”

Zoro makes a face as if he’s eaten something bad.

“There’s gonna be a lot of security, you won’t even get close with a sword,” Sanji stresses and taps the table for emphasis.

“What’s the target?” Zoro’s eye never leaves Sanji, even when he’s finishing off his donut with two big bites.

“The take will be eight figures each,” Sanji drags it out. It won’t work on Zoro, but he can try.

“What’s the fucking target, curly.”

Sanji takes a deep breath in and lets his gaze travel out the window. He can see the ridiculous glowing pyramid that Crocodile has put there a decade ago. It is bound to be demolished in less than two weeks. Next to it, Germa tower is blinking obnoxiously. Sanji indicates the sight with his head.

Zoro follows his gaze. “You wanna hit a casino?”

Sanji takes a sip of his coffee before he holds up three fingers. What use is one? He is gonna hit the Vinsmokes where it really hurts, and in the only language they understand: their money.

Zoro slowly puts down his mug.

***

Equipped with a flashlight from Zoro’s glovebox, Sanji and Zoro snoop around in the closed offices of Nakaiwa & Associates. Architects. Zoro is messing with papers on someone’s desk while Sanji goes through the blueprints for casinos.

“Ha!” He fishes the ones for the Vinsmoke casinos out of the folder and spreads them on a random desk, shoving everything else to the side with his flashlight. “Come look at this.”

Zoro wanders over as if he belongs here, dropping some files in a paper basket on the way. He leans onto the table, shoulder bumping into Sanji’s. He smells like he always has: like steel, musk, and crushed lime. As if he’s bathed himself in a mojito before leaving the house. Sanji pushes any thoughts about Zoro’s smell out of his head and flattens the paper on the desk.

“Blazing Red, Lucky Blue, and The House of Green,” Zoro reads. “Those are all Vinsmoke casinos.”

Sanji straightens up and lets that sentence hang between them. Either Zoro is going along with his plans for revenge, or he walks away. “Do you think they’ll mind?”

Zoro snorts. “If it’s you? Even more than usual.”

Satisfied that Zoro hasn’t scolded him yet, Sanji sits on the desk, uncaring about what kind of paper he’s sitting on. He gives Zoro a wide smile and stops himself in the last moment from reaching out for the other’s chin.

Zoro clears his throat and frowns down at the blueprints. “How are we gonna hit them all at the same time?”

Leaning sideways into Zoro’s space, and tempting all kinds of devils with that, Sanji fans out the documents and points to the vault of The House of Green.

“That’s the most well guarded vault I’ve ever seen in my life. You sure you don’t want me to hack my way into it?” Zoro straightens up with a raised eyebrow, putting more space between them.

Sanji schools his face so that his disappointment at Zoro’s retreat doesn’t show. “That’s the vault of The House of Green.” He taps three little signs on the print. “That’s where they keep the money from all three casinos.”

Zoro lets out a low whistle. “I guess we’re going all in with the revenge thing.” Zoro scrutinizes the blueprints, then Sanji’s face. “Is that it? This is only about money?”

It is a lot of money. So much money that it will hurt Judge. And Zoro hasn’t yet complained about this being a revenge plan, even though he is normally quite strict on his ‘no emotions on a con’ rule. But when it comes to the Vinsmokes, Zoro would probably put his swords right through them if Sanji ever asked.

Sanji smirks. “Do you know what else they keep in that vault?” When Zoro doesn’t answer, Sanji taps the paper where a small vault-in-a-vault is drawn in. “The intel Judge has on each of his children to keep them in line.” Sanji might not be planning to tell the whole crew that this is what he’s really after because it’s none of their business. But he can’t lie to Zoro. Not about this. That intel will finally set him free from the clutches of his birth family. It is the one thing that will unmistakably tell Judge who was behind the heist even if none of them get caught. Sanji’s not the only person who could use this data, but he is the only one who would go to these lengths to get it. It ups the stakes a hundredfold.

Zoro’s eye goes wide as saucers. Then he starts barking his signature laugh.

Zoro's laugh is cut off by a flashlight in their faces.

“Bellamy, lower that fucking light,” Sanji orders.

The light points back onto the floor. “Sorry, guys.” The blond man takes a step closer, keeping his flashlight down. Sanji knows him from a con a long time ago. Although he doesn’t run cons anymore, Bellamy helps where he can. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Sanji taps the blueprints. “Yes, do you mind if we take these and make copies? We’ll bring them back before your shift ends.”

“Sure, no problem,” Bellamy agrees.

Sanji hops from the table and rolls up the blueprints of the Vinsmoke casinos. He even puts the ones they don’t need neatly back into the folder he found them in. They don’t need anyone knowing what they are after. When Bellamy goes back to his rounds, Sanji and Zoro make their way over to the elevator.

While they wait, Sanji searches his pockets for his pack. “So, what do you think?”

“You need a dozen of people, doing a variety of cons.”

“Like what?” Sanji finally produces his pack and plucks a cigarette from it at the same time the elevators arrives. He’s thought about the arrangement. But he wants to know what Zoro thinks. The other man usually looks from another angle, and this way, they are sure not to miss anything. They step onto the elevator.

“Off the top of my head? You’re looking at a Joker, one Mr. Prince, a Going Merry, two Klabautermann, and a Lucy. Oh, and the biggest Bon Clay ever.” Zoro leans against the elevator wall and crosses his arms which shows off his muscles. Sanji has to swallow his flirty comment because Zoro is staring at him seriously. “How do you even wanna finance this thing?”

Sanji smirks. “The Vinsmokes have a lot of enemies. Did you hear that they wanna build a new casino for Reiju to run?”

Realization dawns on Zoro’s face. “Crocodile.”

Sanji nods. “I wonder what he will say.”

Chapter Text

“You’re out of your fucking minds.” Crocodile points at each of them with his fork forcefully, then feeds the piece of filet that’s hanging from it to Mihawk who eats it without blinking.

Sanji pointedly averts his gaze. He doesn’t need to see this. He especially doesn’t need the unbidden thoughts that come with it. What he would feed Zoro. How he would feed him. What would follow after. Very inappropriate thoughts for this situation, or any other they’ll be finding themselves in during the next few weeks.

“Are you listening to me?” Crocodile brandishes his fork like a sword at Sanji. “You are, both of you, nuts. I know more about casino security than any man alive. I invented it, and it cannot be beaten. They have video den dens, they have watchers, they have locks, they have timers, they have vaults. They have enough armed personnel to occupy Marineford.” He twitches at his own comment. “Okay, bad example…”

Sanji chooses to ignore the comment about Marineford like he chooses to ignore everything about Marineford. “It’s never been tried,” he ventures.

“Oh, it’s been tried. A few guys even came close. In fact, some tried at my casinos! You know the three most successful robberies in Grand Line Central history?”

While Crocodile drones on about attempted casino thefts as if they didn’t do their homework, Mihawk looks as bored as Sanji feels. The reserved man now eats from his own plate in tiny bits without looking at either of them. Zoro has his eyes on Mihawk which isn’t surprising. Zoro has always been fixated on Mihawk in a weird way. It has to do with their shared passion for swords, but sometimes Sanji wonders if there is another reason for Zoro’s obsession. Although Zoro is the kind of person who takes what he wants, so if there was anything else, Sanji would probably have heard about it.

Is Mihawk Zoro’s type? Sanji has never asked, hasn’t even thought about things like these before his stint in prison. Zoro, in turn, has never volunteered any information about his love life or the lack thereof. In the time they’ve been working together, Sanji hasn’t ever seen Zoro leave with anyone. Which makes it rather difficult to determine who might or might not be his type.

“But what am I saying?” Crocodile exclaims, recapturing Sanji’s attention. “You guys are pros, the best of the best. I’m sure you can make it out of the casino.” His fork still drawn like a sword, Crocodile fixes Sanji with a sinister look. “Of course, once you’re out of the front door, you’re still in the middle of fucking nowhere!”

Sanji puts on his best chastened face and turns his head to look at Zoro.

Right on cue, Zoro makes an equally pressed face and shrugs. “He’s right.”

“You’re right, Crocodile.” Sanji sits up straight. “Our eyes were bigger than our stomach.”

“Yeah,” Zoro drawls. “Pure ego.”

Crocodile rolls his eyes. “Blah blah.”

“Thank you for setting us straight.” Sanji raises to his feet and closes his jacket. “Sorry for bothering you.”

Zoro follows suit without another word.

“Look,” Crocodile starts, “we all go way back. I owe you from that thing with the guy in the place and I’ll never forget it.”

“Our pleasure,” Sanji smiles.

“Any time,” Zoro adds.

Without waiting for another attempt at stalling them through small talk, Sanji turns. Zoro is right behind him as they pass Crocodile’s pool. Sanji wouldn’t be surprised if he came here one day to find actual crocodiles in the pool. Absolutely Crocodile’s style. Next to him, Zoro is holding his fingers in front of his chest so that Crocodile and Mihawk can’t see them and counts down. Sanji rolls his eyes.

“Just out of curiosity,” Mihawk’s voice stops them right in front of the steps that lead to the house. It’s the first time the man has spoken up all afternoon. “Which casinos did you decide to rob?”

Sanji doesn’t need to look at Zoro to know he’s smiling his sharpest smile. He can barely contain his own. “Blazing Red, Lucky Blue, and The House of Green,” he replies, his back still turned.

“Those are the Vinsmoke casinos,” Crocodile comments.

As if they don’t know that, Zoro eggs Crocodile on: “He’s right, curly.”

“Come back here!” Crocodile commands. “What do you have against the Vinsmokes, Black?”

They both turn around at the same time. Sanji makes sure nothing is showing on his face. He has changed his name a long time ago and even with the whole Charlotte marriage ordeal, he hasn’t let them change his name back to Vinsmoke. Only Zeff and Zoro know about his connections to that damned family. Which is how it is supposed to be. Sanji slowly walks back to the table, hands in his pockets. “What do you have against the Vinsmokes?”

Crocodile huffs. “They attacked me and my casino, now they’re going to blow up my beautiful pyramid to build a generic casino with another color fucking coded name. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What are we doing, Crocodile?” Zoro asks, trailing behind Sanji, the picture of innocence. Or as best as he can pull that off.

“You’re gonna steal from Vinsmoke Judge, so you have to know. This all used to be civilized. You’d hit a guy, he’d whack you. Done. But Vinsmoke…” Crocodile glances at Mihawk and bristles. “At the end of this he better not know you’re involved, not know your names, or think you’re dead. Because he’ll kill you, and then he’ll experiment on you.”

None of this is news to Sanji. However, he isn’t about to contradict Crocodile by telling him Judge will know exactly who’d robbed him. If everything goes according to plan, Sanji will have insurance, and it won’t matter. Judge won’t be able to touch Sanji anymore. Not ever again. “That’s why we’ve got to be very careful. We have to be precise. We have to be well-funded.”

“Yeah yeah,” Crocodile waves a hand at them. “You gotta be nuts, too. And you’re gonna need a crew as nuts as you are. What do you have in mind?”

Sanji smirks and sits back down.

***

With Crocodile’s money secured and Jinbei already planted in The House of Green as a dealer, Sanji’s next concern is drivers. They need people who are reliable and can outfit any car. There aren’t a lot of people that Sanji trusts with driving an escape vehicle. It’s still up for debate if Franky is one of them. But Franky can build anything you ask him to and will be exited about it, too. He also comes with Chopper who has a good handle on the mechanic. Mainly because nobody, especially not Franky, could say no to Chopper. Sanji sends Zoro to fly over to Water 7 to bring them in. They come back in a truck the size of a small home three days later.

For electronics, Zoro suggests Nico Robin. Sanji has heard of her, but he’s never worked with the woman before. Zoro, it turns out, has run a few jobs with her the past two years, and he even vouches for her. Zoro rarely vouches for anyone. That, combined with the fact that Sanji doesn’t have any better ideas, forces him to follow Zoro’s lead on this one. Not that Sanji is actually opposed to the idea. Nico Robin is the best of the best when it comes to surveillance technology and is known as the Devil Child in hacker circles. This is Sanji’s best and most likely only opportunity to ever meet the woman.

Which is how Sanji finds himself sitting opposite Zoro in a small coffee shop at the edge of the city. The round table between them is so small that their knees touch under the table. Moving his legs isn’t an option because there is simply no space. He would either bump into the window or put his legs in the corridor, to potentially trip someone. Changing position would also attract Zoro’s attention and potentially betray how jittery the contact makes him. To make matters worse, Zoro is half draped across the table so he can see the white surveillance van a few feet away, his right hand right next to Sanji’s arm. Sanji has to focus on his espresso so he doesn’t take Zoro’s hand or leans down to kiss him. It’s really all he can do in this situation.

Not taking his eye from the van outside, Zoro clears his throat. “Munitions.”

Sanji nods slowly, keeping his eyes on his coffee. “Ace,” he suggests.

Zoro tears his gaze from the scene outside to make a face at Sanji. “Dead.”

Sanji’s heart sinks into his stomach. It has always been a pleasure to work with Ace because he had such a sunshine personality. “On the job?”

“Something like that,” Zoro replies mysteriously. He looks away, his eyebrows drawn together.

Sanji hesitates only for a second, then gives up. He knows this expression, and he’s not getting anywhere on this topic now. He changes track. “Usopp?”

Zoro nods, still looking out of the window, but his face relaxes.

The little bell above the door jingles and when Sanji looks over, he realizes that Robin has walked in. This seems awfully in character. Rumor has it that you only need to drop your guard for a millisecond, and Nico Robin will have sneaked up on you. Out of habit, Sanji puts on his most charming smile.

Robin weaves her way around the other tables and ignores Sanji, instead fixing Zoro with a look. “Roronoa,” she announces her presence. “I thought I’d told you not to bother me at work.”

How she even knows that they are here and that they are here for her remains a mystery. They haven’t exactly phoned in. She most likely taps into all of the surrounding security cameras so that nobody can sneak up on her. It's either genius or paranoid.

Zoro sighs. “Just listen to him.” He gestures first at Sanji, then at an empty chair at another table.

They keep their eyes locked for several more moments as if they’re holding a silent conversation. It’s as if Sanji isn’t even there although Zoro has just pointed at him. He’s never seen Zoro hold a silent discussion with anyone else. It has always been just the two of them with the knowing looks. He keeps his smile intact out of sheer spite. He’s not going to show his emotions now of all times.

Finally, Robin relents and grabs an empty chair to sit down. “Fine. Talk.”

***

Sanji leans against Zoro’s green convertible, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. This car is way too flashy to be a get away car, but it’s the only one they have, apparently.

Around the corner is a whole SWAT team, and Sanji really wants to keep his distance. He’s seen enough of the marines during the last two years of his life, thank you very much. Which is why Zoro is the one striding off towards the commotion around the corner, with a small trigger and explosives hidden in his coat pockets. They are harmless on Zoro, but they are anything but on Usopp.

It’s a shame that Usopp has maneuvered himself into a pickle right when they’re about to pick him up, but it can’t be helped. With Ace out of the picture, Usopp is their best bet. Usopp can detonate practically everything if you give him enough money. Thanks to Crocodile, money isn’t an issue, so Usopp’s perfect for the job. Besides, Sanji likes working with Usopp, and the guy is friends with Franky which is definitely a plus in this operation. Chopper and Usopp together can probably keep the mechanic under control.

Around the corner, something explodes. People start shouting. Sanji kills the cigarette on his heel and slinks back into the car, dropping the stump into the car’s ashtray. He starts the motor and puts the first gear in. A second later, Zoro and Usopp tear around the corner and head straight for the car. Sanji leans over and pushes the passenger door open. Zoro glides into the seat with a smirk and shuts the door behind himself. Usopp yanks the back door open and throws himself into the car. Sanji floors the gas pedal.

When they turn the next corner, Usopp breaks into relieved laughter, finally sitting up correctly. Zoro follows suit with his typical bark of laughter. Sanji’s heart skips a beat at the sound, and he can’t suppress a smile of his own. Too concentrated on the busy streets of Grand Line Central, and throroughly distracted by Zoro’s laughter, Sanji cannot come up with a smart line right now. The marimo laughs less since Sanji has gotten out of prison, and every laugh drawn out of the man lifts Sanji’s heart a little.

“Sanji, so pleased to work with professionals again,” Usopp finally presses out between hiccups of laughter. He claps Sanji’s shoulder in greeting.

“If everything goes according to plan, you won’t be apprehended by a SWAT team this time around,” Sanji shoots back.

Zoro chuckles knowingly, and Sanji smirks at Usopp in the rearview mirror. Their team has no idea what is coming for them.

***

The next day, Sanji finds himself in Windmill Village. Zoro dragged him into the backwaters of Grand Line Central against his will, and without telling him why. Apparently, they are here to watch a circus performance. As if Sanji can’t waste his time on other things. Looking at pretty female hackers while pining after his best friend being top of the list.

The announcer, big red nose, weird blue hair, is the most annoying clown Sanji has ever seen. If it was legal to shoot a clown in Windmill Village, Sanji would have done it already. Unfortunately, it isn’t legal, and he’s not here to draw any attention to himself. Or so he hopes. It’s impossible to tell what Zoro thinks they’re doing here. The only thing that’s sure is that Zoro is even more annoyed by the clown than Sanji. Serves him right.

“Why are we in a circus?” Sanji leans into Zoro’s space, but doesn’t make any effort to whisper. Instead, he pulls some cotton candy from its stick and puts it in his mouth. It’s not as good as a cigarette, but it gives him something to do while he craves a cigarette. Even though the circus tent is clearly not a building, it is for some reason still forbidden to smoke in here.

“Just shut up and watch,” Zoro grumbles.

Sanji grits his teeth. He trusts Zoro, but he hates not being in control. The two voices in his head fight with each other when they announce a funambulist named Monkey D. Luffy.

“Great, his name’s Monkey,” Sanji comments, just to annoy Zoro some more. “Aaaaaaaand he can walk on a rope.”

“More than that,” Zoro insists through gritted teeth.

Oh, this is fun. “He can probably juggle to,” Sanji muses. “We need a greaseman, you know that, right? Who else is on the list?”

“He’s the list,” Zoro nods towards the guy walking the rope.

“Who else?”

“Just. Watch. The. Damn. Show.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but does as he is told. As an exception. Because he has cotton candy and his arm brushes against Zoro’s.

Monkey D. Luffy, what a name! What does the D stand for? Doofus? The guy walks along the rope as if he’s walking on the ground which is impressive, but not what they need. Right when Sanji is about to open his mouth to complain again, Monkey D. Luffy jumps backwards onto a pole, hooking himself onto the pole with one knee and striking a pose. Sanji leans backs and stuffs the rest of the cotton candy in his mouth. He hates when he has to admit that Zoro is right. “Fine. We have a greaseman.”

“We have a greaseman,” Zoro repeats with a smug smile, just to annoy him.

After the show, they wander out of the tent towards Zoro’s green convertible. Sanji ponders their list of people. They still need a Bon Clay. “We need Brook.”

Zoro sighs while he fishes for his keys in his pants. “He won’t come. He retired last year.”

“You can ask him,” Sanji points out. Partly to rile Zoro up, partly because he wants Brook. Period.

Zoro stops in his tracks to look at Sanji with narrowed eyes. He sighs again. “I can ask.” He pushes a button on his keys and sinks into the driver’s seat as if his limbs are suddenly made out of lead.

Sanji sits in the passenger seat. “With Brook, we’d be eleven. That should do it, right?”

Zoro doesn’t answer, only stares out of the windshield.

“You think we need one more?” Sanji cocks his head at Zoro.

No answer.

“You think we need one more.”

Still no answer.

Sanji nods. “Fine, we’ll get one more.”

Zoro grins. He pulls an envelope out of his door and hands it to Sanji. “Find her in Weatheria.”

***

While Zoro is out in Sabaody to convince Brook to join, Sanji finds himself on a train in Weatheria, trailing the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. How Zoro even knows a woman like this one is beyond him. First Nico Robin. Now Mikan Nami. Zoro is keeping his lips sealed on how he knows them, probably full aware that it drives Sanji up the walls of his mind.

The gorgeous ginger-haired woman is scrolling on her phone, seemingly uninterested in everyone and everything around her. She even pretends not to notice the guy next to her staring rudely at her ass. At the next turn Nami lets herself fall against the guy. In the blink of an eye, her free hand dips into his coat pocket and dumps his wallet into her purse. The guy is too distracted by her breasts against his chest to notice anything. She apologizes to the man who nods in response and then lets his eyes trail down her legs again. What an asshole.

When Nami gets out of the train, Sanji follows her. He speeds up to pass her, slipping a note into her purse and taking the wallet she just nicked. She doesn’t even flinch. Sanji suppresses a smirk. He’s still got it.

He’s picked a worn down bar around the corner where he orders a whiskey on the rocks, still hoping for some insight into Zoro’s feelings by emulating his drinking habits. He lights a cigarette and puts the wallet on the table in front of himself. He has no reason to look inside. He’s not interested in pocket money.

It doesn’t take Nami long to find him. When she walks into the bar, her phone still in her hand like in the train, she spots the wallet on the table and stalks towards his table.

Sanji doesn’t give her a chance to speak. “Hello Nami, sit down.” He stands and pulls out the chair for her before taking another drag from his cigarette.

She stops next to the chair. “Who are you?”

He has her attention, and now he needs to keep it. “A friend of a friend. Please sit down.”

She rolls her eyes, but finally does as he's asked, and he sits back down as well. She clutches her purse and phone close to her chest as if she’s afraid he’s gonna take something else from her.

“Roronoa told me about you,” Sanji starts, intentionally keeping his relationship to Zoro vague by using his last name. It’s always better when people don’t know how close they are or aren’t. It’s not hard to pretend. When he’s feeling down, even he doesn’t know how close they really are. Only how close he wishes they were. “He said you were the best he’s ever seen. I didn’t expect to find you working wallets on the train.”

Nami shrugs. “That wasn’t work, that was practice.”

Sanji takes a deep hit from his cigarette before he pulls a plane ticket out of his suit jacket. He places it in front of Nami, hand still shielding it. “You’re either in or out right now.”

Nami eyes the paper with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”

“A plane ticket. A job offer.” Sanji holds her gaze.

“You’re pretty trusting pretty fast,” Nami snarks. She returns her purse to her shoulder as if she doesn’t have anything to fear anymore.

“Roronoa put a good word in for you.”

Nami narrows her eyes at him, scrutinizing his every move. “Childhood friends will do that for you.” When his eyes widen inadvertently, she smirks. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” If possible, her smirks gets even sharper. “I know all about you, Sanji Black.”

Sanji doubts that, but she clearly knows something. And the asshole marimo apparently didn’t think to warn him about how close he is to Nami. Or the bastard didn’t let on to fuck with him. Sanji schools his face. “In or out?” He repeats. In these situations, it’s better to stay on topic than get himself dragged into a conversation in which he can only loose. He hates Zoro for putting him into this situation.

Nami cocks her head at him. “What if I say no?”

With a shrug, Sanji kills his cigarette in the ashtray between them. “Zoro will be annoyed, and we’ll get someone else who isn’t as good as you. You can go back to feeling up rich kids on the train.” Sanji finds the nearest waitress and signals her for his bill. When he looks back at the table, the plane ticket is gone from under his hand. He fixes Nami with a look. “That’s the best lift I’ve seen you make yet.”

Nami doesn’t take her eyes off the plane ticket. “Grand Line Central, huh?”

“The world’s playground.” Sanji nods at her one last time before he stands. He buttons his jacket close and walks out of the bar as collected as he can.

Out on the street, he takes out his phone and dials the only number saved in there. When the phone’s picked up on the other side, he doesn’t wait for a greeting. “She’s your childhood friend?”

There’s a short silence before Zoro answers. “Brook is in.”

Sanji stalks down a busy street. “Not what I was asking.” He lights another cigarette and looks around for a taxi. He doesn’t want to stay here longer than necessary. And he doesn’t want to let the bastard know how glad he is that Brook’s in. Zoro doesn’t deserve it. Not right now.

“So what?” Zoro finally sighs. “Got a problem with that?”

“You could have told me!” Sanji waves down a taxi that comes to a screeching halt next to him.

“Would you have gone to Weatheria to see her?”

Sanji sinks into the back seat of the taxi and ends the call without another word. He hates how well Zoro knows him. “To the airport.”

***

Back in Grand Line Central, Sanji sits in one of the many rooms of Crocodile’s mansion. The room Crocodile has assigned to him is covered in light blue tapestries, has a small desk with exactly one chair, a huge bed and an even bigger wardrobe that is sinfully empty. For a lack of other sitting opportunities, Zoro lays sprawled out on Sanji’s bed, his feet hanging over the edge and his shirt hitched up a bit. Sanji tries not to stare at the revealed skin.

Their suits hang, freshly pressed, on one of the wardrobe’s doors. Turns out Crocodile employs one person specifically to iron his clothes. It explains quite a lot of things about the man. Sanji is not about to complain, though. His clothes have never been in better shape.

Zoro throws a tennis ball into the air. “Something’s still bothering me,” he announces, not looking at Sanji.

“What is it?” Sanji spins in his chair, so he’s not staring at Zoro and his exposed skin any longer.

“Part of your plan is stealing the codes from Yonji.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t do that,” Zoro points out. “Yonji will have you arrested before you can even say peep.”

Sanji stops his chair and tries to look at Zoro’s face instead of his stomach. “I know.”

“Plus, they’ll red flag you once they realize you’re in town.”

“Probably.” Sanji knows all this. It’s part of the reason they took Nami on board. Although they haven’t adjusted the plan to incorporate her yet. And they haven’t solved the red flagging problem. So Zoro is right, but Sanji hates saying so.

Zoro catches the ball and sits up to look at Sanji. “What are we gonna do about it?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Sanji confesses. It’s, apart from Brook, the weakest part of the plan so far.

Zoro nods to himself for a bit, then looks up. “I might have an idea. Do you trust me?”

Sanji wills himself not to blush. He’s trusted Zoro since their first con together. Nothing has ever changed about that. Zoro knows, and probably just wants to hear it out loud. “Always,” Sanji finally concedes.

A smug grin appears on Zoro’s face. “Let’s keep the plan as is for now. I’ll figure it out. When the time comes, follow my lead.”

Narrowing his eyes, Sanji scrutinizes Zoro. This doesn’t bode well. He does trust Zoro, but the marimo is prone to some really weird ideas. A con in a con. A surprise attack. If Sanji doesn’t get to the bottom of it, anything could happen. But complaining now would only give Zoro more ammunition. After all, he’s just confessed he always trusts Zoro. He can’t take it back a minute later. “Fine.”

Zoro nods, and lets himself sink back onto his elbows, cockily throwing the ball with one hand now. Sanji can’t tear his gaze away, and the worst thing is that he has no idea if Zoro has caught on already. He wishes, desperately, that he didn’t think so much in prison. He should have just not thought at all. Unplug his brain. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything better to do. This whole thing is made worse by the fact that there seem to be so many things popping up that Sanji didn’t know about Zoro. There’s his work with Robin, his relationship to Nami, his weird silences with Mihawk. The thought about a possible past fling between Zoro and Mihawk has nestled in his brain since Zoro kept staring at the other man on their first trip to the mansion. It doesn’t matter, not really, because Mihawk is clearly as devoted to Crocodile as the man is to him. But it still bothers Sanji.

“Just spit it out.” Zoro drops the ball to the bed and fixes Sanji with his one working eye.

He can’t exactly ask about Zoro’s past relationships. Or the lack thereof. It’s not a topic of conversation for them, except when it comes to the hellish disaster of Sanji’s arranged marriage. But there’s other things Zoro hasn’t talked about that Sanji is equally eager to get to the bottom of. “What happened to your eye?”

“I told you,” Zoro sinks back onto the bed. “Training accident.”

Sanji pats his pockets where he finds his lighter, but not his cigarettes. In a mansion as big as this, they could be anywhere. “What kind of training?” He asks, half thinking about his pack of cigarettes. “Did you let someone stab you with a knife?”

The only answer is an ominous silence.

Sanji stops his frantic searching and looks over to the bed where Zoro is pointedly not looking at him. “You did not!”

With a groan, Zoro sits back up and throws something at Sanji. For a second, he thinks it’s the tennis balls and he squeaks, before he realizes it’s his pack. He catches it at the last second.

Zoro snorts. “It was an accident,” he repeats. “Training with Mihawk.”

The cigarette already in his mouth and the flame burning, Sanji stops. They stare at each other over the empty room between them. Something fierce and angry roils in Sanji’s stomach. With a sudden clarity, he remembers his quite inconvenient urge to take out the other party’s eye in revenge. Flapping his hand, Sanji gestures towards the closed door. “That Mihawk?”

“Do we know another one?” Zoro sounds defeated.

With a shaking hand, Sanji finally lights his cigarette and takes a long drag to steady himself. He can’t go and take out Dracule Mihawk’s eye. Not only because they’re currently partners, but also because Mihawk would probably stab him to death before he could even get close enough. “Is that why you guys are being weird with each other?” And there’s the opening to secretly ask about Zoro’s past relationships without the other man noticing.

“What are you talking about?” Zoro raises an eyebrow at him.

Sanji flaps his hand around some more, distributing some smoke in the room at which Zoro sniffs. The good thing about living in Crocodile’s mansion is that the house owner smokes everywhere, so Sanji doesn’t need to hold back. “You’re not talking to each other,” he clarifies.

Zoro huffs. “How many times have you actually heard Mihawk talk? To someone other than Crocodile?”

Sanji furrows his brows. When they laid out the plan, Mihawk had very prominently spoken up at the right time to get Crocodile on their side. Since then… Sanji goes through the last few days in his head. No, he hasn’t exchanged even a single word with Mihawk. He’s seen the man, at the table for a meal, and in other parts of the house always sipping on a wine glass. He spotted him sitting in an armchair reading. He even noticed how the stern yellow eyes were following them around whenever they were in the same room. Sometimes, in another room and therefore unintelligibly, he heard Mihawk and Crocodile talk among themselves. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t even remember the sound of Mihawk’s voice.

“That’s what I thought,” Zoro concludes with a smug grin.

After Sanji finishes his cigarette, they get ready. Everyone is coming to the mansion today to be brought into the loop about the plan. Everything is outlined, every step they’ll take, every word they’ll say. The only thing left to do is change into their freshly pressed clothes and get themselves a drink.

Sanji challenges himself not to look at Zoro while the other man is changing in his room instead of going back to his own. It fails spectacularly. While he pulls on his own trousers, Sanji can’t keep his eyes off of Zoro’s muscular and very exposed back. He’s almost sure Zoro is doing it just to needle him.

***

Sanji throws a glance at Zoro who nods and flattens down his shirt. It hugs his body as if it’s been made just for this purpose, and it should be illegal all over Grand Line Central to look this hot in a simple shirt and slacks. If he wants to go through this night without a hitch, Sanji won’t be able to look at the guy for the rest of the evening. Which poses a conundrum because the plan does require him to look at Zoro a great deal. How is this his life?

Crocodile and Mihawk join them just out of sight of the living room which starts down a flight of stairs. Both of them are clad in suits as well, one in green, the other in the color of desert sand. Their dedication to each other could not be made more obvious. Sanji swallows an eye roll.

“You ready?” Crocodile asks, standing a few inches too close for comfort. The usual then.

Sanji merely nods, smoothens down his suit jacket that definitely does not need any more smoothing, and walks down the stairs. Zoro is to his right immediately, and Crocodile and Mihawk follow behind on their left. Since Crocodile’s house staff has been dismissed for the evening for obvious reasons, Jinbei stands at the bar to their right, mixing drinks. The others are spread over the off-white velvet sofa arrangements. With whiskey tumblers in hand, Nami and Robin have their heads together, talking in low voices. Usopp, Chopper and Franky sit on the floor by the couch table where Franky is assembling a castle out of playing cards under the small cheers of the other two. Luffy is sprawled on a beige carpet that looks like it’s worth more than Sanji’s suit. He watches Brook who is improvising a jolly tune on the piano in the corner of the living room, a glass with champagne on top of the piano in front of him. Without a coaster. Crocodile won’t like that.

At their entrance, all heads turn towards them. Everyone sits up a little straighter except Luffy who just cocks his head with a bright smile on his lips. “Did everyone eat?” Sanji waits for their nods because he won’t have anyone dealing with this on an empty stomach. “Good. Everyone sober?” He lets his glance sway from the ladies to Brook and finally Jinbei, and shrugs. “Close enough I guess.” Robin and Nami clink their glasses together pointedly. Sanji indulges them with a smile before he continues. “Most of you know each other already. If not, I trust you acquainted yourselves already.” Luffy gives him a thumbs up and grins at Zoro.

“Okay.” Sanji claps once. “Before we start, nobody’s on the line here yet. What I’m about to propose to you happens to be both highly lucrative and highly dangerous. If that doesn’t sound like your particular type of fish, help yourself to as much food as you like and safe journey. No hard feelings.” Eight curious sets of eyes look back at him, now more intrigued than ever. Nami leans over to Robin to whisper something, and the other woman smirks. Franky punches the air. “Sounds super, Sanji-bro!”

Sanji settles for a smile and suppresses his second eye roll for the night. Maybe he should have made a bet with Zoro on how many eye rolls each of them would like to make before this evening is over. A lost opportunity. “Well then, come with me.”

He leads the way. Crocodile’s mansion is a maze, and he doesn’t trust most of these people to find their way through it. Zoro follows while Crocodile and Mihawk stay behind to make sure nobody takes a wrong turn into a bedroom or the treasure chamber.

In the room at the end of the corridor, they have set up a miniature model of the Red Line, the busiest street in Grand Line Central due to the abundance of casinos, bars and brothels. The three casinos Sanji is planning to hit are the center piece. One after the other, all the crew members file into the room and scatter around the table. Nami stays close to Robin who slides into place next to Franky of all people. Usopp and Chopper end up next to Luffy, Jinbei and Brook gather on his other side. Crocodile and Mihawk stay close to the door to survey the whole thing from afar. They’ve heard this before.

Sanji leans down on the pool table and stares at the model of the city. He points to three of the casinos. “These are the Blazing Red, Lucky Blue, and The House of Green. Otherwise known as the most lucrative casinos in Grand Line Central.” And his birth family’s whole pride, but nobody needs to know that. Crocodile snorts derisively in the back, clearly not over the fact that the Vinsmokes are going to demolish Rain Dinners to make space for yet another of their own casinos. Sanji removes the street between the casinos to reveal the underground structure of the model. “This is the vault of The House of Green. As you can see, it’s connected to the Blazing Red and the Lucky Blue, beneath two hundred feet of solid earth. It safeguards every beri that comes through each of the three casinos above it.” Pause for effect. “And we’re going to rob it.”

There’s a hush over the room that gets broken by Nami’s voice. “Grab-and-smash job, huh?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow, but it’s not very convincing because her eyes are shining with beri signs.

“It’s more complicated than that, witch,” Zoro retorts. He is definitely not hiding his eye roll.

Sanji bites his tongue so he doesn’t lash out at Zoro’s treatment of women. This is not the time or space. They need to present as a front. And he doesn’t know enough about Zoro’s relationship to either woman to really comment. So Sanji grabs a remote from the table and points it at one of the monitors behind him. Without Crocodile and his mansion, this would be so much more tedious. “Courtesy of Jinbei, new blackjack dealer at The House of Green, security tapes from the three casinos.”

Everyone’s eyes are glued to the screen, watching how people move through the public spaces of the casinos, between tables and slot machines.

“Bad news first,” Sanji interrupts the starry eyed staring. “This place houses a security system which rivals most Pluton sized hiding places. First, we have to get within the casino cages” – Zoro helpfully points them out on the model – “which anyone knows takes more than a smile.” Sanji smiles because it fits and he’s a pro. “Next we need to get through these doors, each of which requires a different six-digit code changed every twelve hours. Past those lies the elevator, and this is where it gets tricky. The elevator won’t move without authorized fingerprint identifications-”

“-which we can’t fake,” Zoro offers with a smirk.

“- and vocal confirmations from both the security center within The House of Green and the vault below-”

“- which we won’t get.”

“Furthermore,” Sanji carries on as if he’s never been interrupted in his life, and especially not by a marimo, “the elevator shaft is rigged with motion detectors-”

“-meaning if we manually override the lift, the shaft’s exit will lock down automatically and we’ll be trapped,” Zoro explains, still with a smirk, as if this is business as usual.

“Once we've gotten down the shaft, though, then it's a walk in the park: just three more guards with weapons and a preference towards not being robbed, and the most elaborate vault door ever conceived. Any questions?” Sanji offers them his most dazzling smile, the one that gets every lady swooning.

There is a pregnant silence that Sanji can’t quite read. He knows this plan is daring, to say the least. He’s heard the speech from Zoro, and later from Crocodile. Both of whom are now on board. It has to work on these people as well.

“¿Podemos cavar un túnel?” That’s Luffy. Sanji merely stares at him. He hasn’t talked to the guy before, and he wasn’t prepared for the Spanish. Did he even understand anything they’d said?

“No. Tunneling is out, perezoso.” Zoro doesn’t seem fazed at all, and Nami and Luffy chuckle at what is probably a Spanish insult. “There are scales monitoring the ground for one hundred meters in every direction. If a groundhog tried to nest there, they'd know about it. Anyone else?”

Another silence. This time, there’s confusion about the recent exchange mixed in with the wary feelings about the plan. Finally, Chopper speaks up. “You said something about good news, Sanji?”

Sanji can’t help but smile. He’s been waiting for that question. It’s the one that will do all the convincing work for him. If these people are here for anything, it’s the money. “The World Government stipulates: a casino must hold in reserve enough cash to cover every chip at play on its floor. As I mentioned, this vault services each of the three casinos above it. That means: during the week, by law, it must hold anywhere from sixty to seventy million beri in cash and coin. On a weekend, between eighty and ninety million. On a fight night, like the Trafalgar-Donquixote one two weeks from tonight, the night we're going to rob it, at least a hundred and fifty million. Without breaking a sweat.” Sanji takes a look around the room. Nami’s eyes have permanently turned into beri signs. “Now there are twelve of us. Each with an equal share. You do the math.”

Franky whistles.

Zoro smirks. “That’s what I said.”

Everyone seems to be in daydreams about what they’d do with the money. Until Brook speaks up. “I have a question.”

Sanji turns to look at him. They need to placate Brook most of all. Everything hinges on the old man playing his part. Sanji nods at him.

“Say we do get into the cage, and through the security doors there, and down the elevator we can't move, and past the guards with guns, and into the vault we can't open…”

“Without being seen by the cameras,” Zoro adds, ever helpful.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot to mention that,” Sanji nods slowly as if he’d ever forget about that.

Brook clears his throat. “Say we do all that. We're just supposed to walk out of there with a hundred million beri in cash on us without getting stopped?”

The second question he’s been waiting for. Sanji’s smile broadens even more, if that is even possible. “Yeah.” Sanji fixes everyone with a look. Crocodile looks impatient, Mihawk impressed. Nami’s eyes are still beri signs, Robin appears thoughtful as if she’s already planning how she’s gonna hack their system. Chopper and Franky are exchanging looks that speak volumes, just not to Sanji, while Usopp cocks his head at the model as if he’s trying to figure out where to place explosives. Luffy is picking his nose, Jinbei sips at his drink, and Brook looks like he’s about to faint. Sanji leans forward conspiratorially. Time to share the real plan. “This is how we’ll do it…”