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[deviledlegs]

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[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.]

[deviledlegs]

[This is the real reason people call Law the Surgeon of Death. He'll save people's lives with his skill and power, then immediately torture them with his atrocious bedside manner.]

You're gonna repeat it back to me one more time after dinner. I won't let you leave until I know you've got it down. These are the very basics, you know.

[He can't make sure Law will follow through, but he can make sure that he memorizes this shit. At the very least, this way, the guy shouldn't make the same mistake twice.]

[hot_mes]

[pouting fiercely because he hates being treated like a child, but this time he brought it on himself. He really is being a child about this oh-so-serious talk about his non-relationship.]

Basics, huh? I suppose I should be glad it's not a real relationship. I'd rather stab myself than have to go through that.

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji takes an appreciative bite of pasta and promptly kicks Law under the table.]

[hot_mes]

[OW DAMMIT]

What the hell was that for?!

[deviledlegs]

For every time you've gotten off with that shitty attitude!

[Suck it.]

[hot_mes]

Then you'd be kicking me every day for the next twenty-eight years, because that's how long I've gotten away with it.

[huff grumble huff now excuse me while I eat this delicious pasta, you jerk]

You can keep the hearts and flowers. That's not for me and never will be. Don't try to make me into you.

[deviledlegs]

Don't tempt me.

[You're very welcome, you lucky bastard.]

I don't expect you to be me. I expect you not to talk shit about a woman's needs at my fucking table.

[hot_mes]

[one narrowed eye peering across the table]

You don't know what her needs are, either.

[grumbling into his dinner, because there was actually some good advice in there somewhere and he's going to use it to finally have A Talk. But. The rest. Ugh. Black Leg.]

[deviledlegs]

I don't have to know them to respect them!

[I mean, he probably shouldn't. Caedra is clearly not a good girl. But on the other hand, A GENTLEMAN ALWAYS RESPECTS A WOMAN'S NEEDS!

huff]

[hot_mes]

[sniffs the tiniest chuckle; it's more sarcastic than humorous]

Yeah, well. If this talk doesn't go well, you'll just have to see to her needs instead, I guess.

[deviledlegs]

[Sanji is shocked speechless for a whole two seconds before he remembers to slurp up the rest of his forkful of pasta. It's all very graceful, I assure you.]

...You're not making it easy for me to root for you.

[hot_mes]

[just as...planned?]

I never asked you to. [and then, after another bite, making it worse] I'm serious, she's got more energy than I can handle. You wouldn't believe it.

[deviledlegs]

Not another word!

[These are the last words anyone would expect Sanji to say when discussing the sex lives of beautiful women. That is until they look up and see that he is desperately shoving the palm of his hand over his nose and mouth as blood spurts through his fingers and onto his plate.

Bon appetit.]

[hot_mes]

[oops?

Law instinctively starts up at the sight of blood, though it's a hot second later that he realizes the source and sits back down with a sigh. Idiot.]

Better get that under control. If you lose too much, I don't have an easy means of doing transfusions here.

[never mind when he finds out Mr. Nosebleed's rare type. Can't help you there, man]

[deviledlegs]

I'm stronger than that now!

[Which means that, at one point, he had in fact not been. Congrats, Law. This may be a legit thing you have to worry about in the near future.]

But you can't just come out of nowhere and say something like that with a straight face! You can't, you can't!

[His voice is laughably hideous with his nostrils plugged and drowning, but his present humiliation is not his top priority here. Already, he's rocketing to his feet, scraping his chair across the floor, and rushing for the nearest sink.

Must. Save. Dinner.]