Mixed Up (ZoSan)

Everybody's Got Nice Stuff But Me

Skulking was not a word that Sanji could say he used very often. It wasn't a term he kept handy in his vocabulary or in his mind, but when he did think about it or see it used, he often referenced it with the mental image of a large, fearsome dog trying its best to be as inconspicuous as possible. As he thought about this, he felt it was appropriate enough to describe Zoro's current behaviour. He just wished he weren't being so damn obvious about it.

Sanji narrowed his eyes and glared hard at Zoro as he skulked his way into the young girls' toy aisle, immediately making himself stand out. The vast quantities of pink items lining the shelves brought direct focus to Zoro, who stood amongst them clad mostly in black, bringing about the opposite effect of what he was probably trying to achieve.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Sanji muttered under his breath, shaking his head irritably in pity for Zoro's idiocy before following after the punk. "You'd better tell me what the hell you got banned for before I get banned for being seen with you."

Instead of answering, Zoro dropped the collar of his coat and grabbed the closest doll off the shelf to look at. Sighing and rubbing his brow, Sanji huddled close to him as Zoro pretended to be thoroughly interested in the Monster High doll he'd picked. He turned the package over in his hands to read what features the Headless Headmistress came with, tempting Sanji to smack it away in order to get an answer.

Thus far, his line of questioning had netted him few answers. Every time he asked, Zoro pretended to see something of great interest and then proceeded to ignore Sanji until he'd looked it over. It'd happened all the while they attempted to stealthily make their way into a less populated part of the store, successfully having evaded any employee recognizing Zoro as they sought refuge in the toys section, where they now stood stuck with what to do next.

"What'd you come in here to get?" Zoro asked, shelving the doll disinterestedly and dismissing his question once again. "Food stuffs?"

"Food?"Sanji repeated incredulously, his face morphing into an expression of severe disbelief as his inquiry was forgotten. "Food?! What kind of shitty chef do you take me for to buy my supplies from Wal-Mart?!"

"The shitty kind," Zoro responded straight faced, but laughed when Sanji appeared about to rage. "Hey, you said it, not me," he said, holding his hands up defensively.

"Fuck you," Sanji spat, angrily shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from starting a fight. Derailed from finding out the details surrounding Zoro's ban, he sulked and glowered at all the pink-packaged dolls surrounding them until he'd decided he'd had enough. "Not that it's any of your business, but I came to get curtain rods."

"Curtain rods?" Zoro quirked his brow in question, but Sanji ignored it and made his way out of the aisle.

When he turned back around to see if Zoro was following, he snickered as he took in the sight of the punk standing amidst all the girls' toys. He was tempted to draw out his phone and snap a picture of him standing there in fierce contrast of all the traditionally female playthings, but thought better of it when he saw Zoro frown and start to follow after him.

"What was that look for?" he growled when he caught up, continuing his stealth antics by trying to hide behind the outstretched collar of his jacket.

"You look ridiculous."

"Is this the first time you've seen me? I'm a punk, I've looked worse." Zoro turned to sneer Billy Idol style at Sanji, who rolled his eyes and continued to lead them towards the technology center. "I thrive on looking bad; I've made a career out of it. Where the hell are we going?"

"Cellphone, remember?"

Zoro made an expression of discomfort as he tried to keep attention away from himself, though Sanji noticed that everyone they passed paused to stare at the punk's odd behaviour. Rolling his eyes, he decided not to comment on how 'effective' Zoro's technique was and kept himself focused on the task at hand.