Maid Service

The tip of a compass flickered across a blank piece of paper. Slowly, a particular spot was chosen and the sharp metal spike stabbed the surface. Carefully, the connected pencil swung around and traced a perfect circle on the map, and then another, and another. A fourth concentric ring was carefully measured and the pencil tip readied in position, and just as the precise motion carried through, the door flew open and whacked against the unfinished wooden boards of the navigation room like a rifle shot. The pencil lead snapped in two. “Na-a-a-ami-saaaaan!!!”

Nami looked up, her face a deadpan scowl. Sanji stood in the doorway, an immense grin lighting his face.

“Dinner time! I prepared a special feast for you, miss Nami! I even scalloped the potatoes in the shape of orange slices. Please, come eat!”

Nami sighed deeply, looking at the deep scratch of lead across her new map. “Um, thanks, Sanji-kun, I’ll be up in a minute. I have to clean this up before we sail any farther out of this stretch of sea.”

Sanji backed out of the door, arms clasped behind his back. His blond head leaned back in through the doorway backwards, still smiling and red-cheeked. “Don’t wait too long! The roast won’t stay warm and tender for much longer. If I don’t see you in ten minutes, I’ll have to prepare you a whole new dinner!” He disappeared.

Nami let the weary smile fall from her face. Damn, now where was she? She checked her table of calculations and measurements, then let the list fall to the table, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She might as well go and eat; there was no way she could regain her concentration now. She grabbed a cardigan and left the room.

*

The heat of the afternoon sun the next day felt wonderful. Nami had just finished showering and was lying out near her trees on the sunchair, letting the sun dry her hair. The sky was finally clear and cloudless, and after a week of overcast skies she welcomed the chance to catch a few rays before her tan faded completely away. Suddenly an unexpected shadow was cast across her face, making the light through her eyelids fade from a pleasant orange to a cool, dark blue. She opened her eyes. It was Sanji, wearing reflective wraparound sunglasses and brandishing a bottle of lotion.

“Aaah, Nami-san. A beautiful bishoujo such as yourself shouldn’t have to fry in these harsh rays without a helping hand to protect such delicate skin. Might I offer some assistance?” He smiled, his eyebrow curling in a pleading spiral above his shades.

“That’s OK, Sanji-kun. I already have a layer of sunscreen on from this morning, but thank you for offering.”

“But you just took a shower.” Sanji turned his head to keep her from seeing the giant red heart that popped from his eye at the thought of her bathing. “Wouldn’t you like a fresh application?”

“Um, no, well, I put more on when I got out,” Nami quickly lied. She spotted some puffy white clouds beginning to gather at the west horizon. “I’m really fine, thanks.”

“Are you hot, then? A drink, perhaps?” Sanji returned the lotion to a secret pocket in his shorts.

Nami frowned. She just wanted a quiet moment to lie out, couldn’t he see that? She stole another look at the clouds. A deep gray layer had developed on their undersides, and they were moving in quickly. A quick glance at Lock Post let her know they were drifting right in the direction the ship was headed. She grabbed her sandals and stood.

“Sorry, Sanji, but I have to check the barometer. There seems to be a storm heading in and I don’t want us to sail right into the heart of it.”

“Whatever you desire, my Nami-san! I’ll be right here if you need me later on.” Sanji pulled out the bottle of lotion and shook it meaningfully as Nami rolled her eyes and headed downstairs. Dammit, there went her window of opportunity to get a tan and a moment’s rest! Already the clouds were obscuring the sun. What was his problem, anyway? Why couldn’t he leave her in peace for ten minutes?

*

Nami adjusted her reading glasses and pulled her afghan tightly around her knees. Through the crack of her bedroom door she could hear humming. As she turned the page of her thick textbook of star maps, the humming grew, both in volume and gaiety. She sighed and leaned forward, attempting to shut the door with the tips of her fingers, but it hung just inches out of her reach. Not wanting to pull off the blanket and expose her legs to the chill night air, she sat back, expecting the noise to fade. It didn’t.

“Usopp, is that you?” she called. No response. She waited for a silent moment, then called, “Tony-kun?” The humming continued.

She shrugged and returned to perusing a detailed graph of the southern constellations, making notations in the notebook perched on her knee. The slow immersion of her consciousness back into her book brought the rest of her surroundings to a gradual fade-out, something she welcomed whenever her subject matter completely caught her attention. Still, something was worming into her brain like a persistent, whining mosquito… it was that damn humming.

It grew louder and louder, the tune growing faster and happier, almost maniacal, until, with a final crescendo, it arrived just outside her door. She stared at the doorway, nonplussed, until she finally barked, “WHAT IS IT?!?”

Sanji slid into the room dramatically, wearing a ridiculously tall chef’s hat and brandishing a plate of steaming hot cookies. “Ta-DAAA!!!”

Nami stared. Sanji held the platter of treats out expectantly, arm slowly drooping as the seconds ticked by.

“Umm… Nami-san… wouldn’t you love to try out my new cinnamon-chocolate-oatmeal recipe?” Sanji eventually asked, his smile faltering almost imperceptibly.

“Look, Sanji---“ Nami began. “I’m just trying to have a quiet moment here to read, and while I appreciate the gesture – “

“Oh, but miss Nami!” Sanji beamed blondly. “What could go better with a chilly night and an engrossing book than a batch of cookies fresh out of the oven? And I took the liberty of opening a bottle of red wine for you, my dear.” He whipped out a bottle of something antique, wrapped in a snow-white cloth. “Perhaps we could share it?...”

Nami rubbed her temples. “I’d really like to just sit and read now, Sanji-kun. You can leave the cookies on the table. I’m sure Zoro would love to share that bottle with you.”

Sanji flinched, but the smile remained. “Yes, of course, my sweet. Just holler if you need anything else, anything at all.” He placed the tray on the small end table next to Nami’s daybed, then ducked out of the room, bending to allow room for his hat to pass through the doorway. The last thing to leave the room was his smile, like the Cheshire cat. Nami unearthed one long leg and kicked the door shut, then reached over and picked up a cookie.

In the hallway Sanji’s demeanor instantly evaporated. His brow drew together in a pointed dart and a black cloud shadowed his eyes. He thrust his hands into his pockets and slumped forward; if not for the forgotten, towering chef’s hat, he would have made quite an intimidating figure.

“’Share that wine with Zoro!’” he muttered. “As if I’d waste a vintage like that on that cactus-head ignoramus! Arrrgh! Why won’t Nami warm up to me?” He peered into the porthole of the boys’ large quarters, where several figures hung suspended in their hammocks, already slumbering the night away. He gave the door a sharp kick, leaving a sizeable dent, and walked up the stairs to the main deck.

“I try and try to win her over, but still she refuses. What gives?” Sanji pulled out his smokes and shook one free. He looked out over the calm ocean’s surface. A voice behind him answered, “Just leave her alone, man. It’s a lost cause.”

Without turning around, Sanji answered, “Should I kick your ass now or wait until morning?”

Zoro stood up from the corner he’d been leaning against. “Anyone with a working brain would’ve given it up long ago. I can see you fall into the other camp.”

Sanji looked out into the darkness. “If only I could, man. If only. You obviously don’t see what I see when I look at that bewitching vixen of a navigator. She must have put a spell on me, cause I am helpless.” His mouth curled up again in the familiar goofy, lovestruck grin. “Helpless!”

If anyone could have looked more disgusted than Zoro at that moment, it hadn’t yet been seen. He walked back into the cabin without another word. Sanji was so caught up in his fantasy that it was another ten minutes before he realized he was alone.

*

Downstairs, Nami readied herself for bed. She dove under the covers fully clothed, curled in a ball, until her body heat warmed the cold sheets like a little microwave burrito. Piece by piece she removed her clothes and tossed them out the top of the bed, saving the socks for last. Naked and snug, she closed her eyes and adopted her usual fetal sleeping position, but slumber did not come right away. She kept pondering what to do about Sanji.

Usually he was, well, gnat-like. Always there, but easy to ignore. However, lately he’d been working her last nerve, and she could tell that her attitude toward him was getting less and less tolerant. She didn’t want to be mean or short with him, but dammit, the boy just wasn’t getting the picture. How could she shake him without hurting his feelings? It wasn’t as if she didn’t like him; she just needed a bit of space in this already cramped situation aboard the ship. When she thought about it, she really did have a fond spot in her heart for the lanky chef. Ever since she first met him at the Baratie, when he’d poured the wine and heaped on the compliments, she’d noticed his appeal. He was, indeed, a wonderful servant; if only he weren’t SO subservient! How could she gain a bit more control over this situation?

All of a sudden, it hit her. Nami had an idea. An awful idea. Nami had a wonderful, awful idea.

She smiled in the darkness and pulled her blankets tighter.