ÿþ				     Scenes from a Restaurant



	Sanji had a dream. One all-consuming dream, an impossible, even laughable one, but one

he never let go of for an instant from the age of nine.  But Sanji had another dream.  It wasn t as

all-consuming a dream as finding the mythical sea All Blue, but a more secure, plausible dream

he could use as a safety net in case the big one didn t wind up panning out.  Of course he had

remained steadfast in his conviction that the All Blue existed, but being raised by someone

whose dream had been cut short could raise the notion that maybe having a backup dream

wouldn t be such a bad idea.  It could also come in handy, he discovered later, after

accomplishing your first dream when you suddenly find yourself in the frustrating position of

having to find something else to do with your life.  Most of the time he could scarcely believe

how lucky he was to have a job that he not only could live well off of but that he loved.  

	 Damn it, Sanji!   Sometimes, however, it had its downside.   This is the last time I d

better find you out on the floor flirting with any giggling bimbo you lay your eyes on.  You stay

in here and cook, that s what you re paid to do, am I clear?   Even after the years they d known

one another, Nami s ability to verbally gut someone like a fish could leave him impressed and

somewhat cowed.  He really wished she d stop doing it in the kitchen on busy nights quite so

much.

	 But Nami-san,  was his almost petulant reply,  the money comes out of my paycheck-- I

don t see why it matters to you how the food is payed for. 

	 It matters, Sanji-kun,  the last word was emphasized in such a way that several

of the eavesdropping chefs winced and thanked their deity of choice that they weren t the ones in

his place,  because when you give free food away to people for no good reason, they tend to

expect the same treatment when they come back.  When there isn t a repeat performance they

tend not to come back.  It hurts business.  It makes us look unprofessional.  It keeps you from

being in here doing your job.  And worst of all, it costs me money.  That s why it matters and

that s why this is going to be the last time it happens, yes? 

	The mention of the  m  word promptly sealed the fate of Sanji s end of the conflict and

he sighed in resignation.   Yes, ma am. 

	Relaxing only slightly, Nami turned and huffed her way back to the swinging doors

leading out to the patrons, smoothing her already wrinkle-free skirt and brushing some stray hair

away from her face as she did so.  As co-owner of the restaurant, she spent most of her time

flitting from table to table like a butterfly to make sure everyone was enjoying their meal and

establishing a more personal connection with them-- laughing at their jokes, visiting, playing the

hostess.  It was a job that she felt was essential to engendering loyal customers and repeat

business and one that Sanji had always felt was unnecessary; if they liked the food they d come

back, it was that simple.  But it made her happy, so far be it from him to spoil it for her.

	 Hey, Head Chef,  called a voice from the cacophony of various cooking dishes,  if

you re done standing around we could use a few more hands here. 

	 Sure,  he said, giving in to the second woman to berate him in as many minutes.  Not

that he really minded this time; it was a Friday night and the restaurant was full to capacity. 

Mika was a good assistant head chef and knew her way around a kitchen like no one else, but she

only had so many hands.   What do we need done?  he asked, striding over to take a look at the

current orders.

	 I ve got a chicken with no Marsala sauce, a salmon that needs filleting, and about four

orders of the lobster cakes, take your pick and go.   Her pan was emptied onto a nearby plate and

refilled with more boiled rice and assorted chopped vegetables with an expert rhythm that was

only gained through extensive experience.  Not for the first time did he mentally thank Nami for

finding this woman  she was utterly invaluable in these situations, a total professional who kept

her head in a rush and maintained her quality while beating the clock.   So,  she said after a

moment, the grin in her voice unmistakable,  how many times is this that she s chewed you out

in front of the staff? 

	 This week or in total?   His pan flared dramatically to life in front of him as the alcohol

burned out of the wine.

	 This week. 

	 Four, I think.   Shit he wanted a cigarette.  Next to him, Mika looked at him for the first

time in their conversation, flashing a wicked grin in the process.

	 Should we be expecting a fifth or have we hit your limit? 

	He flashed his own grin in response.  How can I refuse a beautiful woman, especially one

in distress? 

	 From the check? 

	 Even ladies with tastes that overreach their wallets,  he corrected, drizzling the chestnut-

colored sauce in an aesthetic pattern over a plate of chicken.

	Shaking her head, Mika emptied her pan for the second time and grabbed a boning knife

from a nearby drawer.   Well as long as you don t run us out of business I guess it s not my place

to say anything.  I don t see how you can afford it, though.   Salmon bone was thrown in the

trash and the fillet was seasoned and put in the oven before she joined him at the counter to get

elbow-deep in shredded lobster.

	 Don t worry, I could give away twice as many meals and we d still make a profit.  Nami-

san just doesn t like parting with money she doesn t feel she has to.   He topped a plate with a

carefully placed garnish and handed off to a nearby waiter, who in turn handed him a new order. 

 Personally, it s never mattered much to me. 



* *



The busboys were turning the chairs up and sweeping the last of the grit from the floor when

Sanji finally emerged from the kitchen that day.  Tossing a good-natured wave to the bartender,

he made his way over to the pimply-faced kid trying valiantly to get a marinara stain out of a

tablecloth.

	 Yo, Gary. 

	 Last I saw her she was in the office,  the kid answered his next question without even

looking up from his project.  Of course, far be it from Nami to just buy a new tablecloth and save

the lad some work, but Gary insisted that he didn t mind the menial little chores.

	 Thanks.  Don t stay too late with that. 

	 I won t.  He could hear the smile in the younger man s voice.   Don t let her give you

too much grief. 

	Sanji just grunted in response and longed for a cigarette with every step he took down the

hallway to the office.  Not that he actually thought she d still be there that late, but it never hurt

to check anyway.  Much to his surprise, he found her bent over the desk, pen in one hand, head

resting on the other, pouring over the budget book with much the same air that she had her

navigation maps once upon a time.  For just an instant he could feel the floor rock in time with

the ocean and his hand felt empty without a tray loaded with cocoa or some fancy dessert for

her.

	 You just going to hover in the doorway or are you coming in?   The floor stopped

rocking and the only thing his hand itched for was a cigarette.  The thought occurred to him that

most of the people he d spoken to today had spent most of their time not looking at him and the

idea irritated him slightly.  

	He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him in response to her rather snippy

inquiry, shoving his hands into his pockets.

	 You ve been here the whole time? 

	She grunted in reply, still frowning intently at the numbers before her.

	 There a problem?   That earned him a look.   With the books,  he clarified, not wanting

that frown pointed in his direction.  If she d been going over things for this long there must have

been a doozy of an error in there, which might also explain her mood.  Staring at numbers for

hours on end wasn t a way he d ever want to spend a Friday night either.

	Pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes closed, she nodded.   We re

spending more on food than we should be but I can t figure out where it s all going.  Even taking

your free meal program into account,  she punctuated that with a particularly stinky look,  the

numbers don t add up.  I just can t see the problem for some reason.   Rubbing her eyes, she

straightened up and stretched her neck, a slight grimace playing over her features.  He didn t even

want to think of how long she d been sitting hunched over like that because of what was

probably a minor discrepancy in the bookkeeping.  Honestly, that woman was going to kill

herself over money at this rate, and not very much money at that.

	 Nami-san, you should go home and get some sleep.  Maybe tomorrow you ll find the

problem, but right now   His sentence was cut off by a tiny noise from his business partner as

she sat massaging her neck.  Concerned, he stepped toward her.   Are you all right? 

	 Yeah, I m fine,  she responded with well-practiced patience for his overreactions

regarding her well-being.  I just have a crick in my neck.  Could you do me a favor and get this

for me? 

	If she noticed the slight pause in between her request and his acceptance, she made no

indication that she had, and he willed his hands to stay steady as he gently worked at the skin

along her spine.  She let out a low groan when he found a troublesome spot with his thumb and

he suddenly had trouble swallowing around a tongue that seemed far too big for his mouth.

	 Mmmmm, down a bit,  she murmured, arching her back a little under his

administrations.  Over, over, over   there...  and she bit down on a lower moan when he

hit the right spot.  There was no longer enough saliva left in his mouth to swallow and he was

having increasing difficulty keeping his breathing even.  Desperate, he tried to move his thoughts

to the menu for the next day, going over recipes step-by-step and definitely not thinking of how

smooth and cool her skin was nor was he noticing how her neck curved so elegantly with her hair

draped over one shoulder or those little noises she was making in the back of her throat.  He did,

however, notice how uncomfortably warm it was getting in there and how difficult it was to hear

what she was saying with all that blood pounding in his ears...

	 Sanji,  her irritated tone cut through some of the fog in his head,  are you even listening

to me? 

	 Of course!  he responded automatically.

	 I said you can stop now, it feels much better. 

	There was an uncomfortable pause as his brain attempted to process this and then as he

removed his hands and tried his best not to look as sheepish as he felt.   Of course, Nami-san. 

Sorry. 

	She sighed, a smile ghosting across her face.  Thank you.  It really does feel better. 

	 Of course.  Anytime.   Her smile was lovely no matter how brief, and having it pointed

at him was worth the public reprimands.   Well, I have to be going.  He reluctantly broke the

mood and headed for the door.   I have a date. 

	Startled, Nami s head whipped up from the book to look at him.  A date?  I thought you

weren t seeing Claire anymore. 

	 I m not,  he replied nonchalantly, opening the door.  He paused only briefly on the other

side to smile at her.  Goodnight, Nami-san.   The door closed behind him and she heard his

footsteps fade down the hall.

	 Goodnight,  she told the empty room.



* *



	Even the winter nights in Cocoyashi never got all that cold; the temperature might drop

into the mid-sixties or so but it rarely got below that.  It was the rain and thunderstorms you had

to watch out for, and the deceptively warm air temperature might mislead someone as to the

temperature of the rain, which could be quite cold given the right conditions.  Right now it

wasn t raining, but it most likely wouldn t be long before it did; the sky was overcast all the way

to the horizon, casting the ocean beneath it in matching gray.  Which just made the nicotine taste

all the sweeter, in his opinion.  

	Inhaling another drag, Sanji couldn t believe how long he d managed to go without it; he

just didn t feel complete without a cigarette in his mouth or his hand or at the very least in his

pocket.  Damn if this lapse wasn t going to make it harder to give it up again but at the moment

all he cared about was that soothing, calming smoke flowing in and out of this chest.  That is

until he heard the door behind him close; then all he cared about was the fit he was going to be

on the receiving end of as soon as Nami saw him.

	To his immeasurable relief, it wasn t his partner he found standing behind him, but his

assistant head chef, a look of surprise already halfway melted into displeasure and

disappointment.  He felt a sheepish and hopefully charming smile curl its way around both

cigarettes held loosely at his lips as relief flooded him that he could continue his guilty pleasure a

while longer.

	 You going to rat me out?  he asked.  Mika pondered it for a moment, looking none too

pleased in the interim, but finally she deflated.

	 No,  she shook her head rather sadly,  just don t make a habit out of this, okay?  I don t

want to lose my job over your lack of self control. 

	 She wouldn t fire you over this,  he frowned, confused at how off-base that statement

was and how unlike her it was to be so.

	 Maybe.   She eyed the two stubby cigarettes in his mouth with a cocked eyebrow.   Was

it that bad? 

	Smoke curled comfortingly around his head and he exhaled heavily as he turned back to

the view of the ocean.   You have no idea,  he replied, not seeing the expanse of water before

him.

	 Funny, she didn t seem that angry.   He could tell she was fussing with her jacket behind

him and he had to suppress the urge to offer to help her.  Some things, he had learned, women

just preferred to do themselves.   You off somewhere?  she asked.  He turned to see her motion

to his takeout bag inquisitively.

	 Yeah,  he finished both cigarettes and flicked them one by one off the landing where

they plopped into the sea,  got a date.   He picked up the bag and offered her an elbow.   Want

me to walk you home? 

	She shook her head and a gust of wind blew her blonde hair a little.   No thanks.  Have

fun. 

	Shrugging, he let his arm drop and skipped down the wooden stairs, tossing a  good

night  over his shoulder, and carefully skirted a large mud puddle at the bottom.

	Mika watched his retreating form and shook her head.   Idiot,  she muttered to his back

as he disappeared around a corner.  Another cool gust of wind made her pull her jacket closer

around her and then she too set off into the evening.