Work Text:
“Okay,” Sanji says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “I’ve called you all here because the wedding is two days away, and thus it’s time for an emergency family meeting to make sure everyone is aware of what their roles are. Does anyone have any questions before we get started?”
“Me!” Perona raises her hand in the air, the bangles on her wrist chiming as she waves the appendage back and forth. “Why am I here?”
“Because, like Zoro, you allowed yourself to be pseudo-adopted by Mihawk when you landed on Kuraigana Island, so now the two of you are essentially brother and sister. Coincidentally,” he adds, ignoring Zoro and Perona’s twin looks of horror, “that is also why Mihawk is here.”
Mihawk raises a single, dark eyebrow from where he’s tucked himself into a corner with a cup of what is hopefully tea, but otherwise doesn’t comment.
“Right then,” Sanji says. “Any other questions?”
Still eyeing Perona warily, Zoro doesn’t bother raising his hand. “If this is a family meeting, how come the crew isn’t here?”
Sanji snorts. “Because even I can only put out so many fires in one go, and Nami has graciously offered to ride herd on that side of the equation. You lot, unfortunately, are my responsibility. Anything else?”
Five pairs of eyes (or four and a half, technically) stare back at him, but when no one else speaks up he assumes that’s it. “Excellent,” he says brightly. “Let’s get started.”
“We are here,” he continues on, “to make sure that everyone does what they’re supposed to during the ceremony and, more importantly, to ensure that no one does anything they’re not supposed to. I know I’ve gone over this with each of you individually, but now I need you all to prove to me that you remember what you’ve been told.”
“Eggplant, this is ridiculous even for you,” Zeff huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat.
Rounding on him, Sanji flashes a smile with enough teeth to give a shark a run for its money. “Thank you for volunteering, old man. You can go first. What are you not going to be doing during the wedding?”
Zeff blows out a breath heavy enough to make his moustache rattle, but he caves in the face of Sanji’s resolute expression. “I will not be arguing with any of the guests you’ve let onto my ship or critiquing the work of any of the other chefs.”
“Correct,” Sanji replies, figuring they may as well go from oldest to youngest now that they’ve started. “Mihawk, you’re next.”
The ex-Warlord and former world’s greatest swordsman takes a sip of his drink before deigning to answer. “I will not, quote unquote, ‘loom’ near any of the guests or stare at them until I make them uncomfortable.”
“At least not deliberately,” Sanji confirms. “We all know looming is your default setting, so just keep it to a minimum wherever possible and you should be good.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Mihawk says, but Sanji’s already zeroing in on his third victim.
“Perona, dear, if you wouldn’t mind?”
And because - despite the base lies Zoro likes to tell about her - Perona is a delightful angel of a woman, she gamely plays along. “I will not set my ghosts on any of the guests unless it’s warranted, and I especially won’t use one on Zoro during the vows, no matter how funny I think it would be.”
“And it would be hilarious,” Sanji allows, “but hardly the appropriate time. I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
“Which leads me to my biggest problem child,” he says, pinning Zoro with a look where he’s trying to subtly sink into his seat. “Alright, Marimo. I’ve spent weeks trying to cram all of this into your head, so let’s hear it. What’s on your list of dos and don’ts?”
Zoro scowls at him, his single eye narrowed in a way that’s probably meant to be a challenge. Undeterred, Sanji meets his gaze head on until finally the idiot sighs.
“I,” he begins haltingly, “will not let Luffy drag me off on an adventure. Either before or during the ceremony,” he adds under the weight of Sanji’s raised eyebrow. “And not immediately after, if I can avoid it.”
“That’s a good start,” Sanji concedes. “What else?”
“I won’t wander off on my own, even though we’re getting married in our literal house, and I will let Usopp keep an eye on me and make sure I’m where I need to be at all times.”
Bless Usopp for volunteering for arguably the hardest job of all, Sanji thinks. He’ll have to send him a gift basket as a thank you if the sniper actually manages to pull it off. “Good. What’s next?”
“I will wear the stupid suit you had me fitted for and I will not rip, tear, stain, or damage it in any way,” Zoro says, flashing a sarcastic set of air quotes in the process.
Sanji sniffs. “You forgot the part about doing so being under pain of death,” he reminds him. “Next?”
“I won’t fight any of the guests unless they deserve it.”
“Even if,” Sanji corrects, a finger raised in admonishment. “I said even if they deserve it.”
“Oh, come on!” Zoro flings his arms out, the picture of wounded innocence.
“Nope,” Sanji says. “You can fight anyone you want the day after, but until then you’re on your best behaviour. Now, next item, please.”
Zoro rolls his eye. “I will stay put for the entire first dance, and I won’t complain until after it’s over.”
Sanji figures he’s pushing it with that second half, but he’s still going to give it his best chance of success in the meantime. Pleased that they’ve almost made it all the way through, he grins. “Okay, now, last but not least?”
Zoro grunts. “I will ingest more than just alcohol alone and I will eat at least one entire piece of wedding cake because you didn’t spend weeks coming up with a recipe that even my ‘aggravatingly fucked up tastebuds’ could handle only for me to ignore all your hard work.”
“Good boy,” Sanji coos, barely resisting the urge to give him a condescending pat on the head when the other man glares at him. “I do believe I’ve finally beaten all the necessities into your thick skull. I’m so proud, I could cry.”
“And speaking of pride and joy,” he turns to the last and smallest person in the room, the light of his life, the apple of his eye. His most precious and precocious of offspring. “Sweet girl, what are you not going to do during the ceremony, and during the part where the officiant says to kiss in particular?”
Looking supremely put out, Amalie kicks her feet in the air and brings her hands up, cupping them around her mouth and making a disgusted face at the same time. “Bleugghhh!”
“ Correct ,” Sanji says triumphantly. “My god, I think we’ve got it.”
All five of them stare at him in varying levels of exasperation.
*****
So, here’s the thing. Contrary to popular belief, Sanji had not actually set out to become an absolute terror of a groom, it had just sort of … happened.
In his defence, part of the problem is that Zoro legitimately doesn’t care about anything to do with the ceremony beyond making sure that the people he considers family are there. He’s indifferent at best to most of the details and has taken to falling asleep in the middle of discussions in order to avoid having to provide his own input.
Less in his defence, however, is that the remainder of the problem is simply his personality. Sanji’s always been a perfectionist at heart, and the last thing he’s going to skimp on is his own wedding.
There are notebooks. There are charts. There are colour coded post-it’s as far as the eye can see. The plan for the seating arrangement takes up an entire wall of his office and looks more like an outline for a military campaign than anything else. None of which is even touching on the menu - a three binder monstrosity that tends to send Zoro scuttling for the crow’s nest every time he pulls it out. In short, if something is even tangentially related to the big day, Sanji has it covered.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for those around him. Zeff has arguably been the most helpful of his immediate family, what with him agreeing to assist with the food, but Zoro hadn’t even known napkins could come with different trim, let alone why one would care, and Amalie’s been in a snit ever since she’d found out she’s expected to wear a dress.
There’s an unspoken pact across the entire ship to never discuss the day the dress and tuxedo fittings had taken place. It’s entirely possible that one corner of The Baratie is still slightly charred.
“I just want everything to be perfect,” he groans on the evening before the wedding. “Is that so wrong?”
“Wrong, no, but it’s probably not realistic either,” Nami tells him, saluting him with a wine glass. “This is you and Zoro we’re talking about here. Some disaster is bound to occur no matter how many contingency plans you put in place.”
“Might, might occur,” Vivi rushes to say as Sanji pouts dramatically down at his own glass. “There’s no guarantee something will happen, and it’s all been good so far.”
“That’s right,” Kaya adds from where she’s sitting with her feet up, a glass of fruit juice resting against the swell of her belly. “Everyone arrived on time and without incident, and I’ve seen the venue. It looks lovely. Oh, and the rehearsal went fine aside from the part where Luffy showed up twenty minutes late because he broke into the pantry beforehand.”
“You did convince Zoro to wear a suit,” Nami admits, “and rumour has it he’s even agreed to bathe before putting it on.”
“Truly a miracle of our time,” Robin agrees seriously, rounding out the remainder of their little quintet as she takes a sip of her tea.
Sanji snorts. “It wasn’t a miracle, it was a stipulation of me agreeing to meet him at the end of that aisle. He gets to wear his swords, but the rest of his appearance is in my hands. God knows what he’d show up in otherwise.”
There’s a brief lull in the chatter as they all collectively pause to consider this.
“It’s probably best not to think about it,” Vivi says eventually. “You’ll only stress yourself out.”
“If I don’t think about that, I’ll just find something else to get hung up on,” Sanji grumbles. “If I’m not worrying about what Zoro’s going to do I’m worrying about Zeff or Luffy or - or Mihawk. Yesterday I went to check on the storage rooms and found two of the Kid Pirates arguing over how fresh the desserts would be at the reception. I don’t even know why we invited the Kid Pirates!”
“Because you invited the Heart Pirates and were worried Kid would be offended if Law got to come and he didn’t,” Robin says. “Personally, I thought that made sense.”
“I can’t go anywhere without tripping over a guest,” Sanji says. “Even with most people sleeping on their own ships there’s like ten times more bodies around than usual.”
“Is that really a bad thing though?” Kaya asks, smiling softly when everyone turns to look at her. “All these people are here because they’re happy for you and want to celebrate that.”
“I’m pretty sure the Kid Pirates are here for the food,” Sanji replies. “And at least a few others are here because they expect something insane to happen and want front row tickets to the show.”
“Mmm, Blackleg Sanji and the Demon of the East tie the knot,” Vivi giggles. “I bet it makes all the newsreels.”
“I bet we get attacked by the navy right in the middle of our vows,” Sanji huffs. “One of us will be mid-sentence, most likely me because you all know Zoro’s just going to grunt his way through the whole thing, and then boom! We’ll look over and Garp will be sailing up with his canons at the ready.”
“Nah, it’ll be G-5,” Nami disagrees. “We all know how Tashigi’s got that weird thing where Zoro’s concerned.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s his swords she’s all about, honey, and not the man himself,” Vivi says. “Although, could you imagine? That would be hilarious. Maybe she’ll show up right at the point where Luffy has to ask if anyone objects to the wedding.”
“No, that would be Gin. Or Duval. Or maybe Pudding.”
Sanji exhales a pitiful sound through his nose and all four women look over at him, Robin even going so far as to materialize an extra hand to pat him on the back. “What if everything that could possibly go wrong does?”
“And what if it doesn’t?” Robin asks, smiling that little knowing smile of hers when he shifts to look her in the eye. “What if everything goes exactly as planned and you get to get up there tomorrow and marry the love of your life in front of everyone who cares about you?”
Sanji drops his gaze down to his hands, focusing in particular on his left ring fingers - bare for now, but not for much longer. “Well, I suppose when you put it like that it sounds pretty good.”
“Which is why I put it like that,” she replies. “Take it from someone who grew up thinking she’d never found love, yet somehow managed to pull it off anyway. It doesn’t matter if nothing goes wrong or if everything goes wrong, the important part will be where you stand at the end of the day.”
“That’s true,” Nami says. “It’s not like you and Zoro would let a little thing like the navy showing up in the middle of the ceremony stop you from getting married. It’s happening one way or the other.”
And that part Sanji has to admit is true. Taking a few more sips of wine, he offers up the best smile he can, and tells the butterflies in his stomach to cut it the fuck out.
*****
It’s later than Sanji had intended on staying up by the time he finally makes his way back to his quarters. A quick peek into Amalie’s room finds her safely tucked away in bed, and he’s greeted by the sound of running water when he reaches his and Zoro’s. Surprised, he quickly changes into his sleepwear, and is curled up in bed pretending to read a book when Zoro finally emerges from the bathroom.
“Hey,” Zoro says, his voice slightly muffled because he’s still toweling his hair dry. “Did you have fun with the witch and the others?”
Sanji makes a face at the insult to his beloved Nami, but ultimately shrugs, knowing it’s inevitable after all these years. “It was good,” he says, closing his book and setting it down on the nearby end table. “Did you have fun doing whatever you were doing?”
Now finished with the towel, Zoro tosses it haphazardly over the back of a chair, which is at least a step up from his old habit of simply dropping it on the floor in a heap. “Perona spilled wine on me,” he complains. “And Johnny and Yosaku wouldn’t stop crying about how happy they are for us.”
“You’re the one who wanted to invite them,” Sanji points out, knowing full well how pleased Zoro is that his old friends have made the trip out. “And you know what they’re like.”
“Don’t remind me,” Zoro grumbles, moving carefully around Sanji to climb onto his side of the bed. “You’d think they’d have grown up a little after all this time.”
“Why? You haven’t.”
Flopping into his spot and tugging the blankets up over his shoulders, Zoro glares up at him from where he’s now got half his face mashed into a pillow. “Right. Scale of one to ten, how badly are you freaking out about tomorrow right now?”
“Negative three,” Sanji lies, frowning when Zoro rolls his eye.
“So that’s an eleven then,” he translates, rolling over and propping himself up on one elbow with his chin resting in his hand. “Cook, you have literally covered bases I didn’t even know people had. Everything is taken care of.”
“Intellectually I know you’re right,” Sanji admits. “It’s just …”
“Just?” Zoro asks, his eyebrows raising when Sanji trails off awkwardly. He curls his free hand over one of Sanji’s, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “Talk to me.”
Sanji sighs. “I never thought I’d get to have this,” he says finally. “Any of it. The restaurant, a family that loves me, a happy ending. I need tomorrow to go okay to convince me it’s real.”
Rather than mocking him like Sanji is half expecting, Zoro’s expression turns serious and he stretches up to bring their mouths together in a deep kiss that leaves Sanji breathless when it ends. “That feel real?”
“Obviously,” Sanji grunts, feeling an embarrassed flush start to spread across his cheeks. “I know I’m being irrational, jackass, but that doesn’t change where my head’s at.”
“S’not irrational,” Zoro denies, restarting the movements of his thumb over the back of Sanji’s hand. “I mean, I guess it is in a way because this is real and stuff’s better for you now, but you’re allowed to feel however you want.”
“Sap,” Sanji says.
“Is it helping?” Zoro asks, shrugging when Sanji reluctantly nods. “Then I said what I said.”
“Ugh, you are so embarrassing,” Sanji says, pulling his hand free as he moves to lie down, but not quite managing to keep himself from laughing as he does so. “And you’ve made your point. Now it’s time for all good little marimos to get some sleep because we have a busy day ahead of us.”
“No shit,” Zoro grunts, shifting around to get comfortable while Sanji deals with the light.
His fingers finding the switch after a bit of fumbling, Sanji flicks it with his thumb, the motion sending the room into darkness. Burrowing deeper into the covers, he shifts around to get comfortable, eventually coming to a stop with a contented sigh.
“Hey. Cook.”
“What part of ‘go to sleep’ did you not understand?”
All of it apparently, since rather than lapse back into silence, Zoro rolls over until he can tuck himself in behind Sanji, hooking his chin over his shoulder and somehow getting both arms around his waist.
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
Knowing there’s no way he can keep the smile off his face, Sanji doesn’t even bother to try.
“Hell yeah, we are.”
*****
Sanji’s just finished buttoning the first of his cuff links when there’s a sharp knock at the door. Looking up, he’s surprised to find an agitated Nami standing in the doorway, a tiny set of shoes and stockings in one hand and what looks like a bag full of hairstyling equipment in the other.
He blinks, visions of potential disasters dancing before his eyes, such that the first words out of his mouth are, “Is something wrong?”
Nami grimaces. He doesn’t like to see such looks on her beautiful face at the best of times, but on today of all days it’s nothing short of a nightmare. “Your child,” she says slowly, “is being a bit … difficult.”
Ah. Not ideal, but also probably not the end of the world, either. Taking a calming breath, he begins dealing with his second cuff link. “Define ‘difficult’.”
Nami brandishes the items in her hands. “She won’t let Vivi or I finish getting her dressed, and she absolutely refuses to let either of us touch her hair. At one point, I was afraid she was going to bite me.”
That last part can probably be placed on Zoro’s influence, Sanji decides, but playing the blame game won’t resolve the situation in front of them. “Where is she?”
“Right here,” a second voice says, and Vivi appears behind Nami’s shoulder with a pouting Amalie’s hand gripped in her own. “She said you usually do her hair.”
Sanji allows himself a small smile as he finishes with his second cuff link, eyeing it critically for a moment before he’s satisfied with it. “That’s because the first time Zoro did it, he took a knife to it, and his skills have yet to improve.”
Smoothing a hand over the dark vest he’s wearing, Sanji notes that he’s essentially ready aside from donning his suit jacket. A quick glance at the clock also tells him he has plenty of time to kill, so he beckons Amalie forward with a hand. “C’mere, little miss. Let me see what I can do with that head of yours.”
Traipsing happily into the room, the skirt of her dark green dress swooping around her bare legs, Amalie scrambles into a chair and gives him an expectant look. “I want a braid, please.”
“Well that should be easy enough,” Sanji allows, gesturing for Nami to lay her handfuls onto the table near Amalie’s seat. “But you have to hold still so I can work, okay?”
“There’s some bead clips in one of the bags here,” Nami says as she sets everything down. “They look like little pearls and I thought it might be nice to space them out in her hair. Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?”
Sanji shrugs, already reaching for a brush that’s resting on top of the pile. “Honestly, I could use the distraction. There’s still a while until it’s time to go.”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” she teases, while Vivi tries and fails to turn a quiet laugh into a cough.
“No,” he replies, allowing himself a faint chuckle of his own as he gathers Amalie’s hair into one hand and gives the brush a first sweep through it. Based on the lack of tangles he encounters, he suspects it’s already had at least a basic treatment. “No, I’m very much not doing that.”
He runs the brush through Amalie’s hair a few more times, and then switches it out for a fine toothed comb. That does pick up a couple of small snarls, but she holds herself steady and lets him work without complaint.
He’s just separated her hair into three equal sized sections when he realizes Nami hasn’t said anything further. Feeling the weight of her eyes on him, he peers over his shoulder and finds her giving him an especially fond smile. “Something on your mind, dearest?”
“It’s nothing, really,” she replies. “I was just thinking that this kind of happy looks good on you.”
Reasonably certain he’s blushing, but also not really caring, Sanji focuses back on the task at hand, beginning to plait Amalie’s hair into a braid that will hopefully be sturdy enough to last all day.
“Annnd now you’re pretending I didn’t say anything because you’re embarrassed,” Nami drawls. He hears the swish of fabric moving as she approaches, and then she’s placing one hand on his shoulder and is stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss the side of his cheek. “I’ve been telling you for years, Sanji, you deserve everything this world has to offer.”
“I think you’re confusing me with yourself, my darling,” Sanji replies, “but thank you.”
“You’ll never change,” she sighs, although she’s still smiling as she settles back on her flat feet. “I’m going to go check on the others - make sure no one’s doing anything crazy and that we’ve still got eyes on Zoro. Are you good here?”
“I think I can manage,” Sanji assures her. “And I will be forever grateful if you were to make sure that my wayward fiancé doesn’t wind up somewhere he’s not supposed to.”
“Usopp’s been doing a bang up job so far,” she promises, patting him once on the back. “But it can’t hurt to double check. We’ll see you downstairs, okay?”
“Mhm.” His attention shifting to Amalie’s hair as he starts tying off her braid, he nods distractedly, aiming a quick smile at both Nami and Vivi as they file out. “Alright, young lady, will you deign to allow me to put a ribbon at the end of this?”
Amalie hums thoughtfully. “Just the one,” she decides. “And don’t make the bow too big.”
“Right, heaven forbid we let that happen,” Sanji agrees, wondering what the hell constitutes ‘too big’ in this context. “How about I show you when it’s done and you let me know if it’s alright?”
“Deal,” she chirps, wriggling in her seat until he motions for her to stop.
“You don’t want me making a mess of this now, do you?” He asks, reaching into Nami’s bag of supplies one-handed and rooting around until he finds a ribbon that matches the colour of Amalie’s dress. “Let’s try this.”
Looping the ribbon around the trailing end of her hair, he twists and pulls until it’s in something of an approximation of a bow shape, his skills still not entirely honed even after all the time she’s been in their care. Then he pulls out a small compact mirror, angling it such that she can examine his handiwork in the reflection. “Thoughts?”
“It’ll do,” she replies, which is Amalie-speak for a ringing endorsement under these circumstances.
Pleased, he snaps the compact closed and sets it back down on the table, after which he eyes the clips Nami had previously mentioned. There’s about a dozen of them in total, more than enough to artfully arrange in Amalie’s hair.
“What do you think?” He says, holding one out so she can see it. “Yay or nay?”
“Can I take them out if I don’t like it?”
“Of course,” he replies, doing his best to hide an eyeroll. “And it’s not like I could stop you even if I said no. We both know you’d just do it when my back was turned, and probably during the worst possible moment at that.”
He’s almost finished placing all the beads when he hears the tread of an unsteady gait and a much heavier set of knuckles than Nami’s raps against the doorframe. Pausing with the last two clips resting in the palm of his hand, he looks up to find Zeff watching him with an unusually soft expression on his face.
Feeling his own face heat under the scrutiny, Sanji ducks away and begins hooking on the second to last clip. “Did you need something, old man?” He snarks.
Refusing to be baited, Zeff stumps his way into the room, looking remarkably put together with the way he’s traded his usual chef’s whites for a well fitting suit and tie. “They’re just about ready for you downstairs, so I figured I’d better come make sure you weren’t doing a runner.”
“Of course not,” Sanji replies, now moving on to the last bead, honestly impressed with how still Amalie’s managed to stay while he works. “I’m not the one you have to worry about being in the right place at the right time.”
“I checked on him first,” Zeff admits quietly, coming to a stop almost directly behind Sanji. “Long-nose has already got him to the venue, and the rest of the crew are keeping Straw Hat out of the food. They’re miracle workers, the lot of them.”
“Then again,” he adds slyly. “I think they want to make sure everything’s perfect for you.”
Ignoring the lump that’s trying to form in his throat, Sanji finishes with the last bead and reaches for the compact to show Amalie his work. Pleased when she again nods happily, he turns her around in her seat, eyeing her for anything out of place. “You look wonderful,” he says.
“And barefoot,” Zeff adds dryly, nodding to the shoes and stockings that are still lying on the table while Amalie ducks her head to try and hide a blush. “Are we foregoing footwear today?”
Sanji considers this. Amalie’s been making her opinion of all the fancy clothes known ever since the outfit had been picked out for her. The fact that she’s willingly put on the dress without any fuss is a minor miracle in and of itself, and it’s not like the absence of anything else will really impact the wedding.
“Why not?” He says, laughing a little at Amalie’s triumphant whoop. “It’ll hardly be the end of the world now, will it?”
“Well look at you loosening your grip at the last minute,” Zeff snorts. “The next thing you know you’ll be letting Roronoa out of the tux.”
“Only if he wants me to kick his ass squarely into the middle of the ocean,” Sanji replies. And speaking of tuxes, he reaches for his previously discarded suit jacket, tugging it up over his arms with practised ease. “That man will have some standards today even if I have to beat them into him.”
“How do I look?” He asks then, spreading his arms out and allowing his audience to inspect him. “Decent?”
Amalie says nothing, choosing instead to merely shrug, but Zeff moves in close, his fingers twisting to start doing up the buttons of the jacket. “You know the answer to that,” he says gruffly, refusing to make eye contact when Sanji gapes at him. “You look perfect, kid.”
“Did you fall and hit your head on the way up here?” Sanji asks conversationally. There’s a weird stinging sensation happening around the corners of his eyes, and if anyone asks he’s going to claim a sudden onset of allergies.
Zeff rolls his eyes as he finishes with the buttons, and runs his hands over the front of the jacket, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles. Then once that’s gone, he cups Sanji’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at him.
“You will never know how much it means that I got to see you grow up to be happy.” He says seriously, after which he does further damage to Sanji’s emotional state by planting a bristly kiss right in the centre of his forehead.
“Old man,” Sanji chokes, but for once he’s not able to come up with a proper insult. “You suck.”
Zeff snorts and releases him all in the same breath. “And you have the emotional capacity of a dead fish, you dumb brat. Just let me be happy for you. I promise I’ll go back to putting you in your place before the day’s over.”
“Now, as for you, Shoeless Wonder,” he adds, glancing at Amalie and beckoning her forward with one hand. “You’re sitting with me, so you’d better get a move on.”
“M’coming,” she insists, scrambling down out of her chair and reaching for him. Pleased, Sanji notes that her hair stays put together as she moves, hopefully a sign for how the rest of the day is going to play out.
Taking a deep breath, he lets Zeff clap him on the back, and then follows the pair out of the room.
*****
The wedding miraculously goes off without a hitch. The marines don’t attack, no fights break out among the guests, and Zoro - in what is probably a testament to Usopp’s fortitude more than anything else - does not get lost on his way down the aisle.
“Would you knock it off?” Zoro complains later as they sway in time to the music. “That was literally never going to happen.”
“I beg to differ,” Sanji mumbles into his shoulder. “It was an entirely viable possibility.”
“Asshole.” Zoro mutters, thankfully not loud enough for any of the guests to hear over the music of their first dance - an old East Blue melody in recognition of not only the first place they’d both called home, but also where they’d met. “How long is this song?”
“Exactly as long as it needs to be,” Sanji replies, holding him tighter.
Zoro’s quiet for a few seconds, but then, “You’re crying again, aren’t you?”
Sanji pointedly does not look up or sniffle. “Fuck you.”
“Pretty sure that’s gonna have to wait until after the party,” Zoro replies, and Sanji, god help him, laughs at the absolutely terrible joke. “No, but seriously, how many more times are you going to do that tonight?”
Honestly, just because he’d shed a tear or two during the vows while someone had remained all stoically silent, that is not the kind of thing he feels he deserves to be mocked for. About to inform the big bastard of as much, Sanji raises his head only to freeze when he finds Zoro gazing back at him with the softest expression imaginable on his face.
“It’s just,” Sanji whispers, any ire vanishing in a flash to be replaced by the same feeling of utter contentment that’s been filling him all night. “I am so fucking happy .”
He’s not expecting the kiss, or the hoots and hollers from the onlooking crowd, but Zoro’s always been good at keeping him on his toes and Sanji meets him readily when he leans in to press their mouths together.
“Me too,” he murmurs as they break apart, his voice barely audible over the still cheering crowd. He rests his forehead against Sanji’s, nuzzling the side of his face. “Today was a good day.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Sanji agrees wetly, brushing the fingers of his left hand over the other man’s nape, once again relishing in the foreign sensation of the ring nestled over the fourth digit. “I’d say we should do it again sometime, but I don’t think anyone would survive that.”
Zoro laughs, the sound bright and echoing, and does a slight shimmy that sends them gliding over the dance floor. “I sure as hell wouldn’t,” he admits, “and it’s not like we’d be able to top today anyway.”
Eventually the song ends and they pull back, although they don’t separate completely, with Sanji curling his hand into the crook of Zoro’s elbow and the other man letting him.
Due to their rather unique family situations, they’ve foregone having the more traditional parent/child dance follow their first as a married couple, and have instead opted to skip directly to having the guests join them. A jaunty tune strikes up as the crowd pours in, and they have to fight against the sea of people to get out.
“Do you want a drink?” Sanji asks, stumbling slightly as he’s jostled by an exhuberent Franky who’s happily trotting after Robin. “I’m sure there’s still plenty left even with this lot going to town on the bar.”
Zoro shrugs, which is as good an admission as any, so Sanji steers them in the direction of the bar. They get only part way there, however, before they’re intercepted by Zeff, who’s armed with a glass of champagne in each hand and Amalie trailing after him like a tiny comet.
Zoro wrinkles his nose when Zeff offers him one of the glasses. “I’d rather sake,” he says. “Or at least wine.”
“And I’d rather you had some modicum of class,” Sanji says, accepting both glasses and forcing one of them into the other man’s hands, “but we don’t always get what we want. Drink up, mosshead.”
“I’ll drink it if you don’t want it,” Amalie pipes up, pouting when all three adults immediately tell her no. “You guys are no fun,” she huffs.
“Speak for yourself, little one,” Zeff tells her. “I for one am having a fantastic night.” Grinning hugely, he reaches out and slaps Zoro heavily on the back, before planting a hand on each of his shoulders. “It only took you ten years, kelp-head, but my precious brat is officially your problem. Godspeed and good luck to you. I am happily passing the torch.”
“And I am right here, you decrepit old ass,” Sanji snaps. “I see your earlier emotional sensitivity lasted exactly as long as I should have expected.”
“Told you it would, didn’t I?” Zeff says, unperturbed in the face of Sanji’s wrath. “And besides, I’m showing my appreciation to your boy here.”
“Could you maybe do that by letting me go?” Zoro asks, and Sanji has to admit that his freaked out expression is kind of funny, as is his white knuckled grip on his champagne glass. “This is weird.”
Zeff thumps him on the shoulder one last time but quickly releases him, his grin still in place as he does so. “Your problem,” he repeats. “So treat him right.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Sanji hisses. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Next to nothing,” Zeff retorts. “I’ve been on babysitting duty all night because it was either that or leave her with Mihawk.”
Sanji shudders at the resulting mental image that provides. “Fine, you’ve done your part,” he says aloud. “We’ve got her now, so you can feel free to go … do as you please, I suppose.”
“As you say,” Zeff replies, this time clapping Sanji on the shoulder as he turns to make his way into the crowd.
“Is it just me or is he getting weirder?” Zoro asks as they both watch the old chef’s retreating back.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought that was possible,” Sanji says, “but now I’m not so sure.”
“Right.” Knocking back his drink in one go, Zoro deposits the empty glass on the closest table before turning to peer down at Amalie. “How’re you doing, kiddo? You’ve been behaving yourself so far.”
“Zeff said I should,” she admits. “And Nami and Vivi and Robin and Usopp and - ”
“I think we’ve got it,” Sanji says, stopping her with his raised free hand before the length of her list can get truly embarrassing. “Your point has been made.”
“Hmm,” she says, surprising him by wrapping her arms around his leg and leaning against him. “When do we get cake?”
“In a little while,” he promises. He pats her head carefully, mindful of the beads in her hair. “Are you having fun?”
He feels it as she nods. “Yeah. Are you?”
The question startles a laugh out of both him and Zoro alike, and Sanji curls his arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug. “I am most definitely having fun.”
“So much fun it’s moved him to tears,” Zoro drawls, snickering when Sanji shoots him a dirty look. “What? It’s not my fault you love me that much.”
“How would you like to spend your first night as a married man sleeping in the walk-in freezer?” Sanji wants to know. “Because I can make that happen.”
“I’ll keep myself warm with thoughts of you,” Zoro replies, laughing when Sanji smacks him in the side.
“Idiot,” Sanji grumbles, trying unsuccessfully to stomp down on the feeling of warmth that’s curling throughout his chest. “It’s only been like an hour, but I can divorce you now.”
“Please, if you haven’t gotten rid of me by now, you’re never going to,” Zoro says confidently. “Amalie, back me up here.”
“No comment,” she says, proving yet again that she’s probably smarter than the two of them combined.
Laughing, Sanji knocks back the contents of his own drink, and puts the glass down next to Zoro’s. “Well then. What should we do now?”
“I want to dance,” Amalie decides. Keeping one hand fisted around Sanji’s pant leg, she holds out the other until Zoro gets with the program and takes it. “You both gotta come.”
Sanji shoots Zoro a look over the top of her head, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. He gets an easy shrug in return, and allows himself a smile. Reaching down to unhook Amalie’s grip from his pants, he takes her hand in his instead.
“Lead the way.”
*****
In a sense, Sanji will remember the rest of the night as mostly a blur, but when he stops to really think about it he’ll be able to picture his happiest memories as if they’re unfolding right in front of him all over again.
When he thinks of the wedding cake he’ll think of how pristine it had looked, standing in the centre of a table in all it’s multi-tiered glory. He’ll remember the excitement he’d felt when they’d made the first cut together, the burst of flavour on his tongue when he’d taken an initial bite, and the feeling on his skin as he’d gleefully smushed a piece into the side of Zoro’s face.
When he thinks of the music he’ll think of the way Brook had ignored their insistence that he didn’t have to work since he was a guest, how he’d played tunes composed just for them while the crowd milled about the dance floor, including at one point Zoro with Amalie dancing on his feet, the two of them laughing as he’d whirled her around.
When he thinks of the guests he’ll think of all the people who’d come out to share this day with them. He’ll remember the people they’d met on their travels who’d made the trip, Zeff and Mihawk chatting together like a pair of proud parents, and Luffy using his long arms to gather all ten of the crew into a bone crushing hug that had resulted in more complaints than not.
He will above all else remember the bone-deep sense of contentment that carried him through the entire night.
The entire night and well into the morning, that is. Glancing around as the final song ends, he’s surprised to find that most of the guests have gone the distance with them, the bulk of the crowd still present rather than having retired early.
“Please tell me you’re not going to try and clean this place up tonight,” Zoro mumbles, slinging one arm around Sanji’s shoulders as they watch people begin to depart.
“What? No,” Sanji replies, returning Law and Kid’s nods goodbye with one of his own. “The restaurant is closed tomorrow for a reason, and even if it wasn’t, I am not being responsible for cleaning up after my own wedding.”
“Fair enough,” Zoro agrees, trying and failing to dodge a hug from an extremely inebriated Perona as she makes to leave. “Damnit, ‘Rona, knock it off.” He groans, handing her off to a perturbed Mihawk.
“So happy for you!” She blubbers, even as she allows herself to be led away.
Zeff gives them both a grin as he stumps his way out, trailed by Luffy of all people with a tray of meat in one hand. Luckily, Nami and a tipsy-looking Vivi appear to be heading the captain off from whatever disaster he’ll get himself into unsupervised.
Sanji watches them all go with a fond smile on his face, before it dawns on him that a key person seems to be missing. “Where the hell is my child?”
“Think you mean our child,” Zoro corrects, unconcerned as he points at another set of approaching guests. “And she’s right there.”
“Found her asleep by the buffet table,” Usopp says, speaking quietly so as not to wake Amalie where she’s riding piggyback over his shoulders. “We figured it’d probably be better to put her up in a real bed.” He adds, nodding at Kaya next to him.
“Of course it would,” Sanji says, stepping forward with his arms outstretched. “Thanks. You can give her here.”
To his surprise, Usopp scoots back out of reach. “We’ve got her,” he promises, “and it’s your wedding. You can take at least one night off.”
“Besides,” Kaya says, smiling warmly. “We want to take any chance to practice we can get.”
“Let them take her,” Zoro says before Sanji can come up with a good enough reason to refuse. “She’s in good hands.”
“Yeah, okay. Fine,” Sanji agrees. “Just make sure you take those clips out of her hair before you put her down for good,” he calls after them. “Otherwise she won’t be able to sleep comfortably.”
“Cook,” Zoro groans in exasperation. “Kaya’s a doctor and Usopp’s basically a genius. They’ll figure it out.”
Sanji makes a skeptical noise, but nevertheless turns back to watching the rest of the guests leave right in time to accept a bone crushing hug from a weepy Franky. Sharing a look with Robin over the cyborg’s shoulder, he pats the other man on the back until he lets go.
The rest of the guests filter out quickly enough, and the next thing he knows the doors are closing on Brook and Chopper, the last ones out, and it’s just him and Zoro left in the room.
“So,” Zoro says in the sudden silence. “That’s a wedding, huh?”
“Mhm,” Sanji agrees. “It certainly was.”
“Was it everything you hoped it’d be?”
Sanji looks over at that, half expecting the question to have been asked in jest, but Zoro’s face is serious when their eyes meet. He takes a moment to consider his answer, and then shakes his head.
“No,” he says, letting loose his thousandth goofy smile of the night. “It was even better.”