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Sanji listened to the bitten off sounds of pain from the room beyond, leaned back on the wall and examined the tall double doors separating him and Zoro and the end of a lot of good things. This was supposed to be covert, an in and out. He clenched his fists to still the tremors.
Glancing up, he met the eye of the turning camera and sighed. Like things ever went to plan for them.
Those ridiculous doors opened with a satisfying boom and cracked a cloud of plaster off the walls. Sanji supposed it was a suitably dramatic entrance for this.
"What the fuck did - " He ignored the shrieks from the peanut gallery, eyes only for Zoro and the man looming over him - Doflamingo. Calling up all the grace and snobbery he had ever learned, Sanji strolled forward.
"You know, I expected a little more class from a Donquixote."
Damn, why did this jerk seem taller every time?
"You dare to--"
"Yes, I dare, can we skip the niceties already? I have shit to do today." Never slowing or breaking stride, Sanji walked until there were less than six feet between them. He would have to be close for this.
"See, I'd heard you're well-connected, enough that this should be simple for you. Take a good look." Black coat spread with his open arms like wings and it was almost laughable. Doflamingo was smiling still, irritated but bemused, so Sanji did a little asshole spin on the spot and then arched an eyebrow.
"Come on, Celestial, do I need to lay it out for you?" Ooh, that was definitely a twitch. Shoulders were so telling about one's nerves. Sighing dramatically, Sanji decided to finish this quickly. Zoro's breathing was getting wetter by the minute and Robin was going to skin him.
His beloved coat hit the marble in a heap. His cufflinks soon served for accents. With his sleeves rolled up to bare his forearms for the first time in years, the thick, jagged black lines on his skin were unmistakable to anyone with the right background. Doflamingo certainly had that. The way he choked on air was almost enough to make up for this godawful mess, to Sanji's thinking.
"You," as he watched, Doflamingo's eyes tracked from his arms up to his curled eyebrow and over to the curtain of hair hiding his other eye, "It's not possible." The fucking smile was gone. Sanji couldn't even enjoy it, just shoved his hair behind his ear roughly.
Doflamingo's merde was a little gratifying, though.
"Exactly. So let me lay this out, Donquixote. That man," Sanji hardly had to twitch his fingers - that green hair was still ridiculous, "that man is mine. You have been informed," a proper wave to encompass the room this time, "before witnesses. Time to make a decision."
He didn't have to say 'be quick' because Doflamingo's face expressed a clear understanding of his situation. Zoro picked that moment to grunt and pathetically fail at pushing himself up, of course. Sanji didn't even glance at him. His opponent right now required his full attention and every muscle in his body revolted at the thought of the Donquixote laying so much as an eye on his nakama again.
When sunglasses tipped toward the sound, that frustrated grasp for control escaped him in a hiss, "Don't look at him, Celestial, look at me. My patience is limited."
Apparently, so was the Shichibukai's bravado.
They walked out.
Well, Sanji walked out with Zoro mostly slung over his shoulder. It was still a victory. Maybe a pyrrhic one, Sanji thought, but a victory all the same.
Later, Sanji would answer questions. Later, he would explain a truth that would likely cost him everything he loved. Right now, there was only Zoro and one wheezing question.
"The fuck was that, shit-cook?" Quietly, quietly, or you'll wake the dragon, stupid samurai.
"That was Doflamingo making the smart choice to let you go rather than see everything he claims burned beyond recognition or reincarnation before he would be allowed to die."
Woops. Too late.