Now I need a chibi!Sanji userpic :-P
Title: Kids these days
Theme: Set #1 - Cook
Claim: Shanks
Words: 1858
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: I don't own One Piece.
A/N: There's probably a timeline fail in here. Also, this is dedicated to mishagirl, one, because it's her birthday, and two, because she inspired this fic in more ways than one. Thanks, misha, and happy birthday!
"Are you sure this is a good idea, cap'n?" Benn asked as they stepped onto the deck of the floating restaurant. "This place is pretty new, I doubt they would have any established chefs other than the owner."
"We don't have much time before we enter the Grand Line," Shanks pointed out. "We need to get a cook somehow." As the only member of the crew with any personal knowledge of the vagaries of the Grand Line, he was for once the one most worried about their lack of such a crucial crew member. Everyone else was accustomed to the ease of life in East Blue, where there was always an island within a day's easy navigation, where they could stop, eat, load up supplies. "This is a floating restaurant, and I've heard the boss, Zeff, used to be a pirate himself. I'm sure we'll find someone suitable here!"
They made their way into the restaurant, sat down, quickly made a few choices from the menu, and looked around appreciatively.
"Too bad we couldn't bring Lucky, he'd have loved this," Shanks said wistfully.
"Look at the prices. We'd spend a year washing dishes here if we let Lucky loose on this place," Benn said. "Not to mention that any prospective cook we might hire will run for cover once he sees Lucky's appetite!" Lucky was the number one reason the Red-Haired Pirates had found it impossible so far to hold onto a cook.
"That's true. Anyway, Benn, here's the plan. The first dish that's marvellous, we ask the cook to come out here and tell him he can join the crew!"
Benn arched an eyebrow at his captain's rather simplistic "plan". "Don't you think we should interview him first?"
"It'll be fine!" Shanks enthused. "Look at that guy! He would fit right in on any pirate ship!" He pointed to a rather rough-and-ready cook with thick lips, a goatee and a large round earring in one earlobe.
"Okay, cap'n," Benn sighed, though he did wonder why a cook was serving. This place sure seemed short on waitstaff...
After a while, their first dish arrived, a pumpkin and ginger soup. Shanks took one sip and went to heaven. "Benn! This is the most awesome soup I've ever had!"
"It's all right..." Benn said, but he didn't try to restrain Shanks' enthusiasm, knowing that was close to impossible.
"Excuse me!" Shanks was already hailing the nearest waiter. "Can you fetch the chef who made this soup here?"
"Yes, sir." The waiter disappeared through the double doors of the galley, as Shanks mused on his cook-to-be.
"I hope he's a good guy, who'll fit in well with the rest of the crew. If he works at a busy place like this, he ought to be able to manage Lucky's appetite..."
"Oi. Cap'n." Benn interrupted, pointing at a newcomer to the table. Shanks looked, and found a small, skinny blond boy standing next to him, one extremely curly eyebrow tightly furled as he gave them an unfriendly glare.
"You gotta problem with the food, old man?"
Benn could see Shanks mentally reel at being called an "old man". "Uh...I asked for the cook," Shanks said, a picture of confusion.
"Yeah, I'm the one who made that soup. You gotta problem with it?"
Shanks looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered his natural composure. "No, I thought it was really good, actually. My compliments to the chef."
The boy suddenly grinned. "Really? You think so? Can you tell the shit geezer that? He never lets me cook for the guests normally, it's only because we're shorthanded 'cause half the cooks and the waiters are sick, including Carne, and he's the one who usually gets to prepare the soup when the shit geezer doesn't."
They listened in amusement as the boy chattered on about the special ingredients he had experimented with to make the soup, his single visible blue eye widening in his excitement, up until the moment a rolling pin landed on his head and a stern voice told him to get his little eggplant ass back in the kitchen. They watched in equal amusement as the man who was obviously the head chef, judging by his incredibly tall toque, chivvied the boy back to work, the boy turning and making frantic gestures at them to indicate that this was the "shit geezer". Then the man walked - it was almost a hobble, with his peg-leg - back to their table, a frown on his face.
"Don't look now, but I think you've been recognised," Benn murmured.
"That's okay, he used to be a pirate himself anyway," Shanks shrugged, taking another generous swig of the Baratie's exceptionally fine house wine.
"I don't suppose you prepared a back-up plan for finding another cook?"
"We'll just ask someone else!" Shanks said, giving the chef a friendly grin as he approached the table.
"Red-Haired Shanks," Zeff greeted him grimly. "What brings the most notorious pirate of East Blue to my restaurant?"
"Don't worry," Shanks chuckled. "We're not here to make trouble."
Zeff snorted and folded his arms. "I'd like to see you try."
"We're here to recruit a new cook, y'see. We're off to the Grand Line," Shanks informed him cheerily.
"Don't you dare try and take away any of my cooks! We're shorthanded as it is! You can advertise in the newspaper, like everybody else!"
"So much for Plan B," Benn muttered to himself, as Shanks was thwacked over the head with the chef's peg-leg.
"Ow, shit geezer..." That earned him a second thwack.
"Hmph." Zeff's brow furrowed as he looked at the younger pirate captain. "Why the Grand Line, anyway? You of all people should have had more than your fill of that accursed place."
Shanks smiled. "You seem to know a great deal about me, old man."
"I know that Red-Haired Shanks should have two arms, not one." Zeff nodded towards Shanks' left sleeve, which hung limply from the shoulder.
"And I know that Red Leg Zeff is supposed to have two legs, not one," Shanks riposted smoothly, giving a significant glance at the peg-leg.
Zeff harrumphed, and glanced around at the galley doors, from which a small blond head was peeking out. His grim expression softened visibly, and Benn smiled as something seemed to dawn on Shanks about the nature of the man's sacrifice, as evidenced by the look of mutual commiseration and understanding he suddenly gave the chef.
"I have the feeling that you two will have a lot to chat about," he excused himself, standing up. "I'll have the rest of the meal to go, if you please."
"Hmm? Okay, Benn. Take something back for the rest of the crew too."
"Right, cap'n."
"And you can finish off the rest of your meal in our private dining room," Zeff said to Shanks, snapping his fingers for the waiters to get it ready.
Benn watched as both men made their way through the dining area, Shanks gesturing as he talked, with the animation Benn knew was reserved for when he was discussing Luffy. What a pair, he thought, shaking his head.
Just what was it about kids these days, who inspired grown men, hardened pirates, to lose limbs on their behalf?
Shanks prepared to board the skiff that would take him back to his ship in a considerably better humour than before. He and Zeff had had a fine chat, talking about all manner of subjects under the sun. Grand Line. The pirates of old - rivals of Captain Roger. Luffy and that kid, Sanji. True, he had failed in his primary mission to recruit a cook, but Zeff had told him about the All East Battle Cooking Contest that was to take place a few days hence in Loguetown, and given him the names of some cooks to look out for, who might be persuaded to come on board as pirates.
He was about to step onto the skiff when he felt a tug on his shirt. "Oh, it's you," he said, looking at the trainee cook. "What d'you want?"
"Did you tell him, mister?" Shanks had to smile at that. Apparently giving a compliment meant you got upgraded from "old man" to "mister".
"Yup, I told him your soup was delicious."
"Really?" The boy's blue eye widened enthusiastically once more. "And what did the shit geezer say?"
"He said something must be wrong with my tastebuds." Shanks chuckled at the crushed look on the boy's face. "I guess you've gotta work harder, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess. Hey, mister! I heard that you've been in the Grand Line before."
"That's right, I have. What about it?"
"Did you see All Blue? It's a legendary sea where fish from all the four Blues swim! Did you see it? Is it in the Grand Line?"
"Hmm..." Shanks looked shrewdly at the eager boy. "Is that your dream, then? To find All Blue?"
"That's right! Someday I'm gonna find it!"
"Then it wouldn't be any fun if I told you where it is, would it?"
"Huh?" Sanji gave an indignant pout when he realised that Shanks was refusing to answer his question. "Hey! Don't be mean!"
"It'll make a better adventure not knowing whether it's there. Trust me." Shanks ruffled the boy's hair, and Sanji scowled and aimed a kick at him. Shanks swiftly caught his ankle mid-strike and hoisted him up into the air.
"Hey! Lemme down!" the boy protested, as he dangled from Shanks' hand.
"You really need to train up more before you're ready for the Grand Line, kid. Put on a bit of weight, too. You're skinny as a rake."
"Lemme down!" Sanji insisted, wriggling desperately.
"Okay," Shanks said agreeably, and dropped the boy unceremoniously onto the deck.
Sanji picked himself up and scowled at the pirate. "I'm gonna show you! I'll become stronger! I'll become a great cook! And then I'm gonna go to the Grand Line and find All Blue!"
"Yeah? I'll be waiting to see that, then. Good luck, kiddo." Shanks ruffled the boy's head once more, and boarded the skiff.
The sea breeze blew through his red hair, and he brushed it off his face, lamenting the absence of Hat. That kid could have used one...
"Bye, you shitty old meanie!" Sanji waved.
...Or not.
Shanks waved back, then fixed his eyes on the horizon and set out for his ship, his mood now turning pensive.
Just what was it about kids these days, and their impossible dreams?
Maybe this was the generation Captain Roger had been waiting for, Shanks mused. The world was changing, and these kids would be the ones to make it happen.
Theme: Set #1 - Cook
Claim: Shanks
Words: 1858
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: I don't own One Piece.
A/N: There's probably a timeline fail in here. Also, this is dedicated to mishagirl, one, because it's her birthday, and two, because she inspired this fic in more ways than one. Thanks, misha, and happy birthday!
"Are you sure this is a good idea, cap'n?" Benn asked as they stepped onto the deck of the floating restaurant. "This place is pretty new, I doubt they would have any established chefs other than the owner."
"We don't have much time before we enter the Grand Line," Shanks pointed out. "We need to get a cook somehow." As the only member of the crew with any personal knowledge of the vagaries of the Grand Line, he was for once the one most worried about their lack of such a crucial crew member. Everyone else was accustomed to the ease of life in East Blue, where there was always an island within a day's easy navigation, where they could stop, eat, load up supplies. "This is a floating restaurant, and I've heard the boss, Zeff, used to be a pirate himself. I'm sure we'll find someone suitable here!"
They made their way into the restaurant, sat down, quickly made a few choices from the menu, and looked around appreciatively.
"Too bad we couldn't bring Lucky, he'd have loved this," Shanks said wistfully.
"Look at the prices. We'd spend a year washing dishes here if we let Lucky loose on this place," Benn said. "Not to mention that any prospective cook we might hire will run for cover once he sees Lucky's appetite!" Lucky was the number one reason the Red-Haired Pirates had found it impossible so far to hold onto a cook.
"That's true. Anyway, Benn, here's the plan. The first dish that's marvellous, we ask the cook to come out here and tell him he can join the crew!"
Benn arched an eyebrow at his captain's rather simplistic "plan". "Don't you think we should interview him first?"
"It'll be fine!" Shanks enthused. "Look at that guy! He would fit right in on any pirate ship!" He pointed to a rather rough-and-ready cook with thick lips, a goatee and a large round earring in one earlobe.
"Okay, cap'n," Benn sighed, though he did wonder why a cook was serving. This place sure seemed short on waitstaff...
After a while, their first dish arrived, a pumpkin and ginger soup. Shanks took one sip and went to heaven. "Benn! This is the most awesome soup I've ever had!"
"It's all right..." Benn said, but he didn't try to restrain Shanks' enthusiasm, knowing that was close to impossible.
"Excuse me!" Shanks was already hailing the nearest waiter. "Can you fetch the chef who made this soup here?"
"Yes, sir." The waiter disappeared through the double doors of the galley, as Shanks mused on his cook-to-be.
"I hope he's a good guy, who'll fit in well with the rest of the crew. If he works at a busy place like this, he ought to be able to manage Lucky's appetite..."
"Oi. Cap'n." Benn interrupted, pointing at a newcomer to the table. Shanks looked, and found a small, skinny blond boy standing next to him, one extremely curly eyebrow tightly furled as he gave them an unfriendly glare.
"You gotta problem with the food, old man?"
Benn could see Shanks mentally reel at being called an "old man". "Uh...I asked for the cook," Shanks said, a picture of confusion.
"Yeah, I'm the one who made that soup. You gotta problem with it?"
Shanks looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered his natural composure. "No, I thought it was really good, actually. My compliments to the chef."
The boy suddenly grinned. "Really? You think so? Can you tell the shit geezer that? He never lets me cook for the guests normally, it's only because we're shorthanded 'cause half the cooks and the waiters are sick, including Carne, and he's the one who usually gets to prepare the soup when the shit geezer doesn't."
They listened in amusement as the boy chattered on about the special ingredients he had experimented with to make the soup, his single visible blue eye widening in his excitement, up until the moment a rolling pin landed on his head and a stern voice told him to get his little eggplant ass back in the kitchen. They watched in equal amusement as the man who was obviously the head chef, judging by his incredibly tall toque, chivvied the boy back to work, the boy turning and making frantic gestures at them to indicate that this was the "shit geezer". Then the man walked - it was almost a hobble, with his peg-leg - back to their table, a frown on his face.
"Don't look now, but I think you've been recognised," Benn murmured.
"That's okay, he used to be a pirate himself anyway," Shanks shrugged, taking another generous swig of the Baratie's exceptionally fine house wine.
"I don't suppose you prepared a back-up plan for finding another cook?"
"We'll just ask someone else!" Shanks said, giving the chef a friendly grin as he approached the table.
"Red-Haired Shanks," Zeff greeted him grimly. "What brings the most notorious pirate of East Blue to my restaurant?"
"Don't worry," Shanks chuckled. "We're not here to make trouble."
Zeff snorted and folded his arms. "I'd like to see you try."
"We're here to recruit a new cook, y'see. We're off to the Grand Line," Shanks informed him cheerily.
"Don't you dare try and take away any of my cooks! We're shorthanded as it is! You can advertise in the newspaper, like everybody else!"
"So much for Plan B," Benn muttered to himself, as Shanks was thwacked over the head with the chef's peg-leg.
"Ow, shit geezer..." That earned him a second thwack.
"Hmph." Zeff's brow furrowed as he looked at the younger pirate captain. "Why the Grand Line, anyway? You of all people should have had more than your fill of that accursed place."
Shanks smiled. "You seem to know a great deal about me, old man."
"I know that Red-Haired Shanks should have two arms, not one." Zeff nodded towards Shanks' left sleeve, which hung limply from the shoulder.
"And I know that Red Leg Zeff is supposed to have two legs, not one," Shanks riposted smoothly, giving a significant glance at the peg-leg.
Zeff harrumphed, and glanced around at the galley doors, from which a small blond head was peeking out. His grim expression softened visibly, and Benn smiled as something seemed to dawn on Shanks about the nature of the man's sacrifice, as evidenced by the look of mutual commiseration and understanding he suddenly gave the chef.
"I have the feeling that you two will have a lot to chat about," he excused himself, standing up. "I'll have the rest of the meal to go, if you please."
"Hmm? Okay, Benn. Take something back for the rest of the crew too."
"Right, cap'n."
"And you can finish off the rest of your meal in our private dining room," Zeff said to Shanks, snapping his fingers for the waiters to get it ready.
Benn watched as both men made their way through the dining area, Shanks gesturing as he talked, with the animation Benn knew was reserved for when he was discussing Luffy. What a pair, he thought, shaking his head.
Just what was it about kids these days, who inspired grown men, hardened pirates, to lose limbs on their behalf?
Shanks prepared to board the skiff that would take him back to his ship in a considerably better humour than before. He and Zeff had had a fine chat, talking about all manner of subjects under the sun. Grand Line. The pirates of old - rivals of Captain Roger. Luffy and that kid, Sanji. True, he had failed in his primary mission to recruit a cook, but Zeff had told him about the All East Battle Cooking Contest that was to take place a few days hence in Loguetown, and given him the names of some cooks to look out for, who might be persuaded to come on board as pirates.
He was about to step onto the skiff when he felt a tug on his shirt. "Oh, it's you," he said, looking at the trainee cook. "What d'you want?"
"Did you tell him, mister?" Shanks had to smile at that. Apparently giving a compliment meant you got upgraded from "old man" to "mister".
"Yup, I told him your soup was delicious."
"Really?" The boy's blue eye widened enthusiastically once more. "And what did the shit geezer say?"
"He said something must be wrong with my tastebuds." Shanks chuckled at the crushed look on the boy's face. "I guess you've gotta work harder, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess. Hey, mister! I heard that you've been in the Grand Line before."
"That's right, I have. What about it?"
"Did you see All Blue? It's a legendary sea where fish from all the four Blues swim! Did you see it? Is it in the Grand Line?"
"Hmm..." Shanks looked shrewdly at the eager boy. "Is that your dream, then? To find All Blue?"
"That's right! Someday I'm gonna find it!"
"Then it wouldn't be any fun if I told you where it is, would it?"
"Huh?" Sanji gave an indignant pout when he realised that Shanks was refusing to answer his question. "Hey! Don't be mean!"
"It'll make a better adventure not knowing whether it's there. Trust me." Shanks ruffled the boy's hair, and Sanji scowled and aimed a kick at him. Shanks swiftly caught his ankle mid-strike and hoisted him up into the air.
"Hey! Lemme down!" the boy protested, as he dangled from Shanks' hand.
"You really need to train up more before you're ready for the Grand Line, kid. Put on a bit of weight, too. You're skinny as a rake."
"Lemme down!" Sanji insisted, wriggling desperately.
"Okay," Shanks said agreeably, and dropped the boy unceremoniously onto the deck.
Sanji picked himself up and scowled at the pirate. "I'm gonna show you! I'll become stronger! I'll become a great cook! And then I'm gonna go to the Grand Line and find All Blue!"
"Yeah? I'll be waiting to see that, then. Good luck, kiddo." Shanks ruffled the boy's head once more, and boarded the skiff.
The sea breeze blew through his red hair, and he brushed it off his face, lamenting the absence of Hat. That kid could have used one...
"Bye, you shitty old meanie!" Sanji waved.
...Or not.
Shanks waved back, then fixed his eyes on the horizon and set out for his ship, his mood now turning pensive.
Just what was it about kids these days, and their impossible dreams?
Maybe this was the generation Captain Roger had been waiting for, Shanks mused. The world was changing, and these kids would be the ones to make it happen.