IC ⚓ HADRIEL INBOX

[deviledlegs]

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[text, Sept 30]

[hot_mes]

question: do you actually understand women or is it just wishful thinking?

[BECAUSE HE CAN'T ASK NICELY]

[deviledlegs]

Of course I understand women! That’s the bare minimum required to bring out the best in them!

[Sanji is dead serious. Law knows him well enough by now, however, to find the hideous irony in the love cook’s words.]

[hot_mes]

[yeeeeaaaahh lack of apparent success with women aside...]

right. then, if I asked your advice later, at dinner, you'd have something to give?

[deviledlegs]

Oh? The great and powerful Law is just fraught with lady troubles! What sort of devil would I be if I didn't use my boundless insight to help him out?

[That's not envy talking. It's... Um. Something else. Yeah.]

[hot_mes]

yeah yeah don't rub it in. I'll be over shortly, just. brace yourself.

[deviledlegs]

The food will be done in twenty minutes. Don't be late.

[Which means that, yes, he was already cooking for Law before the guy texted him.]

[hot_mes]

[and that's why you're amazing and no one will tell you so, Sanji]

good, because I need to get out of here before i'm stuck cleaning up one more paper cut

[some people need to stop getting hurt also precisely twenty minutes later he's on Sanji's doorstep, punctual as ever like the total nerd he is]

[deviledlegs]

[The Surgeon of Death reduced to treating paper cuts? Well, shit. Sanji is just going to snicker at that mental image the entire twenty minutes he has left to himself. That's like someone asking Sanji to microwave them chicken nuggets.

When Law arrives, Sanji kicks open the door with his toes, a steaming pot of creamy parmesan pasta in his hands. The smell of garlic is everywhere, and the table is set for two.]

No more paper cuts then?

[hot_mes]

[one of the most pleasant things to greet him at a door, really. Smells so good, how did he ever live on rice and fish for most of a year? Just don't remind him that pasta is a cousin of bread and he'll eat everything set before him]

Yeah. Infirmary's quiet.

[he settles himself down as usual, this is all routine by now.]

You don't know how to do anything small, do you?

[deviledlegs]

[He snorts wryly as he nudges the door shut, then sets the pot in the center of the table between them.]

Old habits die hard, and this is one habit I don't plan on quitting anytime soon. [A shrug, and he starts heaping Law's portion onto his plate.] Besides, I can hand out the leftovers.

[hot_mes]

[perils of cooking for a large crew, he guesses]

I'm sure you do. To all the women, is it?

[he gets started without any further fanfare, so as to keep himself a little busy doing what he actually came here to do before springing his other topic on Sanji. He's been warned, but Law's too awkward to just come out with it until he's gotten a few bites of dinner.]

...so. That thing I texted you about.

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji swallows his own sizable bite of pasta before grinning like a madman.]

Maybe. All the grieving maidens done in by Torao's cruel scowl.

[hot_mes]

[MAN WHY

he's totally making this face, now.]

There are no grieving maidens, shut up. Just one that won't leave me alone.

[deviledlegs]

So this is about Miss Caedra?

[Whatever the problem is, he's already decided it must be Law's fault.]

[hot_mes]

Yeah... [idly moving pasta bits around on his plate like the poutiest poutface ever] We need to...talk. About our thing. I've never talked to anyone about things like that before.

[help plz love-cook?]

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji considers this confession very seriously as he chews and swallows.]

Do you even know how to start a normal conversation?

[hot_mes]

[ALL THE STARING seriously if looks could kill...]

Don't joke around with me, I'm trying to be serious.

[deviledlegs]

So am I. [He returns quite level, without missing a beat. He is not even remotely afraid of Law, but murder glares don't nurture good appetites.] You just called what you two have a "thing." Like you don't even know what it is.

[hot_mes]

I don't. [shh eating for a second. he's not above talking with his mouth full, though.] At least, I don't know if she wants more than what I want out of it.

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji feels sorry for Miss Caedra. What an angelic and patient woman.

When he speaks, he rolls through each word with a methodical slowness better reserved for small children.]

Repeat after me: "My dear, sweet Caedra, what would you like me to do for you today?"

[hot_mes]

[his steady deadpan communicates so much no]

Maybe asking for advice from you was the wrong strategy.

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji points his fork at Law. Very aggressively.]

You already know how I would talk to a lady like Miss Caedra, and we both know you couldn't manage that level of adulation even if you wanted to! I'm trying to dumb this down for you here.

Have you even tried just asking her? Not as some shitty, all important, one-time talk. Just as a regular fucking thing.

[hot_mes]

She doesn't need adulation. [well, he's wrong there, but at least they've already sort of accepted that he's not going to fawn on her and she can live without it] You can keep the poetry, we already talk to each other like normal people.

[he's been under the weight of A Talk ever since she said they needed to have one, so he hasn't conceived of doing it any other way. Inflexibility is his trademark, after all.]

...but. How?

[deviledlegs]

Okay, okay. I'll give you three easy steps that not even you can grump up.

[Sanji drops the attitude (and his fork) albeit reluctantly.]

First! You choose the right time. Don't pull that shit right before or after anything important. Don't hold her daily activities hostage either. Ask her when she's free, and wait your damn turn.

Second! You make her comfortable. Good food always works, but any creature comforts are important. You don't want her to feel trapped. She should want to keep talking to you because it's comfortable.

And finally! You ask her opinions. She obviously has a lot of them. If you don't listen to them, I'll roast your jewels like fucking chestnuts.

Got it?

[hot_mes]

[well he's not wrong about that last bit]

...choose a good time, don't make her uncomfortable, and. [like a lame, shameful dumbass] Listen. I got it.

[hilariously, these are all things that Law isn't used to doing. what does he care if he makes people uncomfortable or drags them aside during something important? He takes Sanji's advice like a strategy, a tactic to apply to get what he wants. What? It's not like she'll care if he's magnanimous and open.]