Hello everyone, my name is Vintage Typewriter and I welcome you to my first step into the world of fanfiction.

Before you begin I would like to draw your attention to three other stories and their writers who helped inspire this story:

Tell it to the Marines by Tsume Yuki

Catch Your Breath by Lang Noi

Dreaming of Sunshine by Silver Queen

I would recommend each and every one of you to read those stories yourself and give them the love they deserve.

Any ways, on with the show.

Volca was a small island situated well into the middle of the Grand Line but was rarely visited by any up and coming pirates as they tended to view it as a useless stop on their way to the New World. For those pirates that did stop however, they were usually surprised at just how big the main city was on such a small island.

The Red Force, a ship captained by the young pirate captain "Red-Haired" Shanks was one of the few captains that would voluntarily dock at the island any time it came into sight. Most would assume that the young upstart and rookie would only chose to appear at this island because of the sake a majority of the people who ever stopped at the island would claim was the best in the New World.

Those people would have assumed wrong.

Though Shanks would be the first to agree that the sake that was produced on Volca was some of the best he had ever tasted, only second best to the sake that came from his hometown in the West Blue, he had an ulterior motive for docking at this island.

Back when he had still been a cabin boy on the Oro Jackson under Captain Roger, he had gotten his first taste of not only the alcohol that the island produced but also the people who lived there.

Particularly a young pink haired girl with striking seafoam green eyes that had single handedly flipped a full grown man over her back and shoulders with one hand when it was obvious he wanted something she was not willing to give up, no matter how much she had to drink that night. And did it all without spilling her drink.

Brushing off a good bit of ribbing from his captain and Buggy, Shanks would for years deny that he had fallen in love with the pink haired woman that night - the moment she had turned to him and simply uttered "Hey, can you do me a solid" he was gone - and just spend years being her friend, being the person she would go to with all her troubles whenever the Oro Jackson and later the Red Force would dock at the island. And maybe it was all those years of pining after the woman but never acting on his affections that had slowly changed his feelings for her without his knowing so when they had both agreed "Fuck it" and tried to start...something, they had just laughed it off and claimed that they would never work as lovers but made for pretty excellent partners in crime.

So when the Red Force had docked, and he had disembarked to find that there was no pink haired woman, a roguish smile on her face with one hand on a cocked hip, he had been slightly worried - he would deny that he had panicked as much as Benn would argue he had - so he made the calm, and yes it was calm and did not include his crew trying to settle him down to think it through - decision to visit her at her home.

It was a simple one story cottage on the edge of town with a beautiful view over a large body of water mere steps from the back door, lined with various plants leading up to the front porch where a simple swing hung from two chains.

The only thing that had tipped him off to something being wrong, or even amiss, was the amount of weeds popping from from between all the plant life.

He knew that Tifa took pride in how immaculate her gardens were, always made it a point to rope Shanks into helping her out with the grunt work by bribing him with sake and not following through on it until he was planning to leave and she 'conveniently' remembered she owed him for weeding her garden. She always made it a point to do this loudly and in front of his crew so that they could have some blackmail on him, Benn had told him that they were planning on selling the information if they ever needed too.

Traitors, the lot of them.

Catching sight of the small purple blanket hanging over the ledge of the front porch railing, Shanks at first didn't think much or it - Tifa was a seamstress who worked out of her home so it probably just belonged to a customer that just forgot it - until he stepped in front the front door expecting to see the immaculate house that never had a speck of dust and found what he could only say looked like a small tornado had formed inside of.

There were fabrics hanging from a ceiling fan - how? - there was what looked like food on the ceiling dripping down onto an open child's book - what? - and there were various children's toys all over the floor acting as landmines he had to navigate through.

"Ah, Tifa?" He called out, dodging an open jack-in-the-box, trying to make his way to the large archway that he knew from experience led to the kitchen.

"Shit-I mean Fuck-shit, ah damn it!" He raised an eyebrow as he heard the clanging of pans knocking together as Tifa swore loudly, something she only ever did when stressed beyond belief. "Damn it! Shanks! Get your ass in here. Oh no-don't cry!" That had him slightly panicking, who was here that she was so worried about. "Shanks! Now!" He knew better than to ignore the pinkette, even if he couldn't see her.

What he expected was far from what he got.

Looking back at what he had traversed through, he should have clued in to just what he was walking in on.

But instead he was struck, dumbstruck as the normally put together pink haired woman he had come to love turned in his direction holding a small bundle that was wailing like a banshee. Granted, he would argue that no one would have expect the woman who for many years loudly proclaimed she would never have a child using the reasoning that they were 'no good, money sucking terrors' and would 'gladly fight a seaking barehanded than give birth to a kid'.

"Don't just stand there, get me that damn bottle!" His movements were almost robotic as he hesitantly held the warm bottle of milk that had been sitting on the counter out for Tifa to grab and watched silently as the pink haired woman adjusted the bundle in her arms enough so he could see the tuft of red hair - the same shade he would see every time he looked in a mirror - framing a round face with the same green eyes that Tifa held, bright seafoam green iris with no pupil and a thin black ring containing the colour. "There, maybe now you'll stop screaming bloody murder." Tifa sighed, slumping down into one of the two chairs at a small table built for two.

Hair messily pulled into a low ponytail, a white stained button up shirt only half tucked into clashing lime green pants equally as stained, shoe less and definitely tired seeing as the bags under her eyes had bags was just how ruffled Tifa looked when Shanks finally pulled his gaze away from the child in her arms and finally looked at the woman he hadn't seen in almost a year.

A year since they had both tried to be more than friends and both agreed that they would never work as a couple.

A year since that night they both joked was just another story they could share when they got older.

And now, here was Tifa a year later holding a child - an infant - that couldn't be any older than three months if even that. A child that had the same shade of hair as himself, the same seafoam green eyes that could stop a dealing dead that were wide and had yet to decide if they would remain that way or become narrowed like his with a small button nose that Tifa herself possessed.

"She's yours, before you ask." He dragged his eyes up to meet Tifa's own tired green ones. "Turns out, once was enough so thanks." There was that roguish smile she would always give him, just with obvious exhaustion behind it. "So much for never having kids, huh."

"Tifa." He began. But, what was there to say. He was sorry? If he had known? That night was a mistake even if he didn't regret it?

"Shanks, so help me if you start apologizing I will kick your ass with one hand while still holding Wren in the other." She shot him a tired glare with narrowed eyes but he wasn't focusing on that; he was focusing on the fact he now had a name for the little girl she was holding.

The little girl.

Wren.

His daughter.

His little girl, his daughter, his Wren.

"How old is she?" He found his voice as Tifa set the bottle down on the little table and proceeded to burp the little girl, catching sight of the small hands fisted in a combination of pink hair falling out of the ponytail and shirt that her mother was wearing.

"Just under three months. Hey, do me a solid and hold her like this. Make sure you support her head or your head will roll. Oh and watch out, she loves pulling hair." He is given no choice to argue against holding the small bundle that is his daughter as Tifa made herself busy by trying to clean the place up some. The operative word being 'tried'. "I haven't had a shower in two days, you're good holding her right? Cool, I'll be back in twenty."

"Wait-what? Tifa!" He called after the pink haired woman but no answer in return except for a shirt being thrown at his face with a call of 'Throw that in the trash when you get a sec'. Leaving him alone save for the baby that had been quiet up to that point, staring at him with those seafoam green eyes.

"Well kid, I guess it just you and me for now." He stared down at his daughter, watching as she was able to squirm her arms out of where they had been wrapped up in what looked like had once been one of Tifa's dish rags. Readjusting his grip on his daughter, Shanks had to resist the urge to jerk his head back when Wren had quicker than he thought possible for a child as young as her got a fist full of his hair and pulled, hard.

Why hadn't Tifa sent word to him? She had the number to his transponder snail and years ago he had given her, a white one so that there was little to no chance of someone listening in on their conversation that wasn't in the room with them as they talked.

Another tug on his hair that yanked his head to the side. Little girl had quite the grip.

"Oh, you definitely are Tifa's kid." Wren just gave him a gummy smile in return and tugged again on his hair, this time Shanks was expecting it so it wasn't quite the jerk on his head.

Her seafoam coloured eyes met him and if she was older Shanks could have sworn that she was trying to stare him down but for now it just looked like she was seconds away from bursting into tears gong from the pinched look on her face.

"Don't forget, you played a part in creating that little monster." Tifa's voice rang out from behind him - had it already been twenty minutes? - and when she leant over his shoulder it was stark contrast to how she looked earlier. "But, she's our little monster." Pink hair fell in front of his face as he felt lips on the crown of his head. "God, aren't we just the definition of domestication. It's sicking." A gurgle from Wren. "Yeah, I guess you're pretty cute when you're not trying to wake sleeping seakings." A pale hand rubbed Wren's head gently, brushing the red locks back out of her face. "We made a pretty cute kid, didn't we."

"Yeah, takes after her mother that's for sure."

A snort, "Don't let this innocent face fool you, she definitely acts like a young cocksure cabin boy who literally tripped and spilt sake on himself the first time I met him." Arms wrapped around his shoulders clasping in front of his chest. "Before you ask, and I know you've been thinking about it, I didn't need to send you a letter. You are nothing if not a creature of habit so I knew that you'd be back within the year, it was just a matter of when."

Shanks lent back against Tifa, "Who knows that she's my daughter?" If the marines ever got wind that he had a child - an infant, a baby who couldn't even hold her own head up, right now - than he can only imagine what they would do to find her; if they were willing to slaughter women and children that they thought were connected to a dead man then what were they willing to do when he was still alive?

"It's not hard to tell, and the people living here are not idiots. They also know just how important it is for the marines to not know she exist until she can survive on her own. We all can guess just how far the marines would be willing to go and the sins of the parent should never be the sins of the child." Her grip tightened around his shoulder and he could hear the venom in her words. Tifa was not a weak woman, she would fight tooth and nail until her last dying breath to make sure that her daughter, their daughter, survived anything the marines threw at her.

"They'd have to go through me first to get to her." Shank could feel his eyes harden at even the thought of the marines coming after Tifa and and the now sleeping Wren. Over his dead body would anything ever happen to these two.

"Come on Wren, come to papa." Squatting down in a low crouch, Shanks couldn't keep the grin off his face as Wren, on unsteady legs teetered from side to side as her pudgy hands released the edge of the wooden chair in the living room to make the four foot journey into his arms. "Come on little Songbird." He couldn't keep the grin off his face at the look on concentration on little Wren's face as she focused on each step.

She was the most adorable child he had ever seen and maybe he was a bit biased but he had never seen a child that could pull off his shade of hair but with Tifa's everything else and still look so damn adorable.

"Songbird? Really Shanks." He could feel Tifa's gaze on his back but was too focused on the fact that Wren had grabbed one of his arms to help keep herself balanced and then let go, whereas other children would have continued to hold on, to continue her path into his arms.

"What? You're just jealous that you didn't think of it first." He grin letting out a peal of joy as Wren's head smacked him in the chest, making him lift her up from her armpits and spin her around with a smile on both of their faces. "Isn't that right, little Songbird, mama's just jealous that she didn't think of that nickname first."

Wren's little arms flailed as she let out a squeal of joy with a toothy grin, her red curls bouncing freely not yet weighed down by how thick they would get to be if she was going to inherit her mother's genes.

"Uh huh, what ever helps you sleep at night." Tifa snarky voiced chimed in over the sounds of fabric being cut. "Your daddy's a dumbass, isn't he Birdie?"

Shanks shot his own daughter a disbelieving look as the toddler nodded, a smile on her face with eyes closed but upturned slightly to show her joy, "Yup, daddy dumbass." His look of semi-disbelief dropped as did his jaw at his daughter's first word, well words. And only a child of Tifa would chose her first words to include a swear.

"Birdie! Your first words!" Wren was plucked from out of his outstretched arms as Tifa abandoned her work, spinning around with a laughing child in her arms, curls bouncing about her head. "Those dumbasses down at the bar don't know shit, I knew you'd start talking when you were ready."

"Tifa!" His hands flew to his hair, taking fistfuls into his hands as his jaw dropped. "Her first word was calling me a dumbass! What are you teaching our child! She's going to grow up swearing I just know it. My innocent little girl is going to have the mouth of a sailor." He wailed, thumping his head against the arch of the doorway leading to the kitchen. His little girl was only a year old and couldn't be swearing already!

"Oh, don't worry so much, she was going to learn how to swear eventually. At least now we can get her started early and she can create some unique combinations when she gets older." Tifa nestled her face against Wren's, "Isn't that right Birdie, gotta keep everyone on their toes and shock them with creative swears." She shot him a look, seafoam green eyes shining with mirth, "Your daddy is just overreacting for no reason, do you know why?"

"Daddy dumbass." Came Wren's cheery response as she and Tifa began laughing as he was set into another fit.

"Daddy!" Shanks barely even got a foot in the town before small arms wrapped themselves around his legs, seafoam green eyes wide and full of joy at seeing him for the first time in a year. "You're back! Mama said you were taking your sweet ass time docking." He had to steel himself from reacting to Wren swearing. Honestly, he was mostly surprised that every other word wasn't a swear given who her mother was.

"Yeah, what else did your mama say." He lifted Wren up, setting her on his hip as she leant her head on his shoulder at the new height.

"That's you're a no good mooch who needs to weed the garden before he heads back out to sea or so help her she will drag you back by your stupid straw hat and personally kick your ass until the job is done. All without spilling her drink." Wren chirped happily with a smile on her face much to the chagrin of her father as they walked around the edge of the town and headed down the dirt path leading to Tifa's.

She was turning into a mini Tifa and that worried him. One Tifa was enough, another Tifa being released onto the world was just asking for trouble. It especially worried him because this was his little girl, his little Songbird, and as much as he loved Tifa it took a special type of person to 'click' with her personality and if his daughter was becoming just like her mother than that personality could get her in trouble with the wrong crowd.

"And don't think I won't do it, right Birdie." Tifa rung her hands clean with a rag before tossing it over her shoulder so it landed in the sink situated in her kitchen and pulled her pink hair up into a high bun. "Don't you have something you wanted to give your dad, Birdie?" He had a moment of panic as Wren escaped his grip - how? He could have sworn he had a tight grip on her? - landing in a perfect crouch on the balls of her feet before tearing off down the hall to her room, Tifa and himself flinching when the sound of something breaking caught their ears. "That would be the hallway vase. Again. For the fifth time this month."

"Terrible twos that bad?" Shanks smirked as Tifa flopped herself down on the two seater couch, throwing an arm over her eyes as she left out a loud sigh.

"I wish." Tifa lifted her arm off her eyes just long enough to level him with a look as he moved her feet and set them on his lap as he sat on the other side of the couch. "I think I would prefer the screaming and temper tantrums but no I get the most hyperactive two year old I've ever seen. Hell, the brats I see the other woman dragging through town never have as much energy as Wren. I blame you." He could hear the teasing in her voice as she dug her heel into his thigh, joking jabbing him in the side with two of her fingers to drive home the point.

Going to open his mouth, Shanks let out an oomph as small arms wrapped themselves around his neck, one pudgy hand - slimmer than what it had been when she was younger - holding a small brown package wrapped with a ridiculous amount of tape and a sparkling orange bow. The letters 'Happy Birthday Daddy' scribbled out in different colours for each letter.

"What do you got there, Songbird?" He plucked Wren up by the back of her shirt - always a shirt, never a dress as Tifa and Wren both hated them with burning passions as they had both loudly proclaimed - without having to turn around. Wren didn't seem to mind being held up in front of his face by the back of her shirt and shot him a large toothy grin, holding out the package only inches away from his nose.

"It's for you." Wren thrust the package closer to his face, bumping it against his nose as she still had yet to properly judge depth perception. "It was meant to be a birthday present but you didn't show up around the time mama says you usually would." That was true. He would usually come to island either in the late spring or early summer but with his new bounty that was steadily growing with each encounter he had with the marines, it was getting harder to leave the New World and so he had only been able to sneak away by the time autumn had come around. "Sorry it's so late." He couldn't help but chuckle at the downcast look, adjusting her so she now sat against his back and held her there with one arm as the other careful took the package out of her hands.

"Let's see what we have here." He hummed, taking the small package no bigger than the palm of his hand. "Did you pick this out Songbird?" He carefully peeled off the bow dropping it on his daughter's head and earning a giggle from the little girl.

"Mama helped!" She chirped happily, all but vibrating with excitement, and Shanks had to jerk his head back to avoid getting smacked in the face by a wayward hand.

Under all the tape and brown packaging was a simple nondescript black box that gave no hint as to what was nestled inside. Lightly shaking it side to side resulted in no noise so it either was sitting on something making it quiet or move silently or what ever was in the box was literally the same size as what it was sitting in.

It was probably cliche of him to think it but what he found when he popped off the top of the box was not what he had been expecting.

It was a simple silver chain, from the looks only really polished steel made to look like silver, surrounding a square shaped locket, opened, showing a small picture of himself lying on this exact seat with his hat pulled over his face. One hand thrown behind his head while the other was holding a sleeping Wren to his chest, her small hands holding fistfuls of his white shirt.

"Do you like it?" Wren's little voice questioned, swinging her head from side to side trying to get a good look at Shanks as the man in question careful picked the necklace up by the chain, watching as the open locket spun back and forth.

Closing his fist around the locket, Shanks dragged Wren closer to his chest, leaning his head down so his lips touched the crown of her head, laying a light kiss on the red hair, tilting his head to meet the seafoam mirthful eyes of Tifa, grabbing one of her hands in his own. "I love it Songbird."

Her face was wrong; it should have been round not beginning to become heart shaped. Her skin colour was wrong; it should have been a nice caramel tone ("It looks like a shot of espresso and milk." "It does not!") not pale. Her hair was wrong; where was her natural raven locks, and when had she gained hair that rivaled the colour of blood?. Her eyes were most definitely wrong; where were her hazel eyes that she had once been so proud of and when had she gained seafoam green pupil less eyes that while looking bright also somehow looked dull, like she could stare someone down and look like she didn't care.

When had one Charlotte Dean become one Foley Wren? Actually, it wasn't that hard to tell when she had become Foley Wren - last name first? - as she was just over three years old now where as she could distinctly remember being being twenty two and walking home when...something had happened and now she was here.

Here being a world she remembered reading when she had been a teenager and young adult but had stopped really paying attention to it after the Marineford Arc for obvious reasons. Life had gotten in the way not long after and so she only read the odd chapter here and there getting the jist of what was going on but still missing large chunks of information.

But it did not take a rocket scientist for her to realize that something had to have happened to her - to Charlotte - and now she was here, now she was Wren.

Wren, the daughter of Foley Tifa - "Hey, can you do me a solid?" - and Red-Haired - "Tifa, no. Tifa, stop." - Shanks. Because being born into a world that should not exist wasn't bad enough, she was now the daughter of the youngest and newest Emperor - or was he still just some up start pirate? - and if she knew anything about the marines the moment they knew she existed she was in trouble.

If she lived long enough that was. As far as she could remember, never on any page or in any adaptation, had there ever been a girl that was the daughter of Red-Haired Shanks. Never any mention from any of the main characters, not any extra tidbits given by the creator of the story, there was no mention of someone like her ever existing.

Maybe, maybe Wren had existed before but hadn't lived long enough to make an impact on the story. If that was so, were her days numbered? Would she live long enough to actually make any sort of impact on the story?

No, she would make sure that Wren, that she, survived long enough to make an impact on the story. Her own life be damned, she was alive now and she would make sure that she would die first before anyone else she got close too. After all what was one life of someone who shouldn't exist to the lives of many that should, to the lives of those who hadn't already lived once.

It was almost depressing to her. Here were two people who hadn't wanted a child but got one but not the one they should have, instead they got a child with a literal old soul, a soul that had already lived a past life and remembered some of it.

"What's wrong, Birdie?" Wren met the seafoam green eyes of her mother, she had to resist the urge to flinch as memories of her first mother - brown hair, blue eyes - flashed through her mind, and tried to play off the fact she had just spent the better part of five minutes staring off into space.

"Nothing mama." She was mama for now because mother was too formal and mom was still the woman from the other world, from the Before. "Just thinking about papa." Shanks was papa, never dad or daddy because that was a man older than her first mother with black hair and hazel eyes that had a quiet personality that complimented her first mother's own loud one.

A sigh, as two hands lifted her up and caused a squeak to escape her lips, and soon Wren found herself sitting with legs on either side of her mother's head so now both women were facing the sea, her hands holding fistfuls of the pink hair - not brown because this was not mom - as her mama held her bony legs.

The sea was peaceful, calm, and Wren could understand just why it drew so many people to try and conquer it. She could understand just why Roger had decided to venture out all those years ago seeking freedom in the form of the sea, and why her father who loved both herself and her mother, because it was painfully obvious even to her as a three year old that he did love the two of them, kept heading back out to sea after visiting for a few weeks at a time.

When Shanks - papa - came back to the island for his yearly visit she would have to ask him about Haki and beginning training to use Haki because if she was going to make herself useful in this the world then the first step would be learning to control her 'ambition' or 'will power' or whatever they called it in this world.

Though if he wasn't back by the end of the month, Wren was fully prepared to take charge of her own training until he got back.

A/N

Well, I hope you all enjoyed the first step on Wren's story. Don't forget to drop a review telling me what you liked, disliked, or thought could be improved.

Also, I kinda made a thing for this profile:

Do with that what you will.