Yes, another daddy!Mihawk/son!Zoro fic, but I love them so I decided to try one out for myself.

I regret to inform you that I'm one of those authors who update randomly; only when I have time and feel confident about my work (takes longer than it should, but I refuse to post or show anything I'm not proud of).

Thank you! Please enjoy.

-OoO-

Dracule "Hawk-Eyes" Mihawk frowned. Who the hell would be knocking at his door this late? It was nearing five in the morning and he hardly ever received company during normal daytime hours. He slid to his feet – he had been meditating, cross-legged position – and walked to the door. He opened it, but no one was there. He narrowed his golden eyes. No one would be idiotic enough to toy with him, unless it was a certain redhead. Yet he thought that moron would be passed out drunk by now.

He heard a rustle close to his feet and automatically looked down. His frown deepened. A basket wrapped in a green blanket? Did he just get a gift? At this odd time? Or maybe it was a bomb, considering his current job. But then the blanket moved and Mihawk tensed, his guard rising. He reached for the crucifix pendant around his throat, flashing out his dagger, and, making sure the weapon was aimed towards the middle of the basket with his right hand, grasped the blanket between his slim fingers. He flipped it off a heartbeat later, but was astonished to see what he found.

A baby. A freaking baby.

What the hell was a baby in a basket doing on his doorstep? He stared at it and it stared back at him, brown eyes round with curiosity. It noticed the dagger in Mihawk's clutch and opened its mouth in slight amazement, chubby arms flailing towards the object.

Mihawk scowled, not pleased. He sheathed his dagger and inspected the baby. It was an odd one, that was for sure. It had green – yes, green – hair and dark eyes. It was studying him back, which Mihawk found odd. He then caught sight of an envelope resting in the baby's lap and he snatched it, making sure not to touch the cooing infant.

Mihawk-san, please take of my child. His name is Roronoa Zoro and he is nine months old. Thank you so much.

Mihawk reread the letter twice. There was no way in the world that someone was actually asking him to do such a thing. First off, he didn't do kids. Anyone who knew him – and this woman clearly did, as the letter was addressed to him for pity's sake – knew that. Their screaming made him want to slice walls and destroy towns. Secondly he had no idea who the mother was, so why the holy hell would he raise a brat that wasn't his or didn't know?

He looked from the letter to the baby, who glared back rather challengingly at him. Mihawk felt a spike of amusement. Not many could meet his gaze, he knew, and for a brat to do something an adult couldn't impressed the man. "Roronoa Zoro, huh?" Mihawk thought aloud. "What am I going to do with you?"

Mihawk wasn't a heartless man. He felt for the kid, yeah, but that didn't mean he wanted to take him under his roof. He had no idea how to care for a baby and he didn't even want to care for one. He wasn't trustworthy enough to be a guardian, his jobs sometimes taking him away for months at a time. He sighed. Might as well bring the kid inside.

-OoO-

"BAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Mihawk felt his patience waning. His 'friend' was beside him, laughing his lungs out, as Mihawk concluded telling him what had happened.

"S-so-someone t-truly gave y-y-you their k-ki-kid?" Shanks spluttered. "Y-you?"

"I am not lying," Mihawk hissed. He shoved the letter into the redhead's hands. "Read it."

Shanks grinned, but obeyed. His eyes widened when he finished. "Wow. You're seriously telling the truth. Who the hell is dumb enough to freely hand their kid to you? You're hella scary, man." He ignored Mihawk's dark aura as he looked around. "So? Where is the brat?" Mihawk pointed to the basket resting on the kitchen counter. Shanks skipped to it, and paused when he looked into it. "Out of all the babies in the world, you get a green-haired one. You just attract weirdo's, don't you?"

Mihawk glowered. "Including you."

Shanks laughed. "I deserved that. Anyway, what are you going to do? You can't take care of a kid. I mean, you're…you."

"I'm not sure," Mihawk admitted. "I can't just throw Roronoa out into the street, but I don't exactly know any snuggly, warm-hearted people willing to adopt." He looked at his friend. "What about you?"

Shanks shrugged. "Not me. The only person I know is Makino and she already has three boys, so I doubt she'll want another."

"Then why are you here again?" the golden-eyed man scoffed.

Another shrug. "It's fun messing with you."

"Leave."

Shanks smiled. "C'mon, pal! Let's brainstorm." He hooked his arm around Mihawk's neck, who stiffened but allowed the limb to stay. "Option one: you merely throw the kid back out in the street and hope someone picks him up so you don't have to worry about it." He blinked. "You already said you didn't like that idea, so we'll ignore one for now. Option two: you find someone to care for the kid instead. Neither one of us know any…reliable…people, so that's a pretty useless idea. And," he let out a loud guffaw, "option three: you bring up the kid yourself."

Mihawk frowned. All those options were terrible.

"Option three…ha! I bet you don't even know how to hold a baby."

He twitched, knowing his shouldn't fall to the bait, but… "I can, too."

"Oh?" Shanks raised his red eyebrows, openly calling him out on his lie. "Go on, then. Prove it."

Mihawk glared at his companion. "I will." He leaned over and scooped the baby quickly into his arms, making sure not to think too hard. Immediately Zoro squirmed, uncomfortable, and so was Mihawk. Shanks burst into laughter, slapping his knees. Mihawk snarled, "Damn you, Redhair!" He almost dropped the child and he cursed, grabbing his legs at the last second. Zoro shrieked, causing the man to flinch. So damn loud.

"Damn me?" Shanks's eyes twinkled. "I didn't do anything; you're the one who picked him up. Here," the redhead held out his hands, "give him to me. I'll show you how it's done, Hawkie." Dracule Mihawk, the man known (and even feared) for his severe and ruthless attitude, practically snorted. "What? I only dropped Luffy the first few times. I got it down now."

Mihawk looked from Shanks to Zoro, whose face was turning red from being upside down for so long. The baby blinked at him, weirdly content with his position. "You're an idiot, you know that?" Mihawk told rather than asked his friend. He shoved Zoro to Shanks, who scrambled at first but promptly settled him a soft grip.

Shanks beamed. "Told ya." Mihawk studied the redhead's posture with sharp, indecipherable eyes. "Makino drilled into me how to hold Luffy so I'm a pro now." Zoro looked at Shanks, glaring. He leaned away from him, somehow with a grimace. "What's up with the brat, Hawk?"

"Why are you asking me?" Mihawk felt a headache forming. He rubbed his temple. "I don't know kids."

Zoro scowled, looking around until he made eye contact with Mihawk. He held out his arms to the man, speaking baby rubbish. Every few seconds he would send a sour glance to Shanks, as if he couldn't believe the redhead actually had the audacity to hold him.

Shanks was evidently surprised. "He doesn't like me. What the hell? Kids love me!"

Mihawk let out a low chuckle. "He's not stupid." But he didn't take the baby; instead he watched his actions. Zoro was grumbling but not crying. It was more of a loud complaint than outright howl, and it was pretty obvious that he wasn't thrilled. So he wasn't a crying child, which sent a stab of appreciation to Mihawk. The shriek earlier had been from surprise, and he hadn't shrieked since. That made Mihawk thoughtful.

"Listen, you brat," Shanks was lecturing the baby. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I'm great. And you're being dumb." Zoro mumbled more nonsense and ended up sticking his chin the other way, striking the redhead momentarily speechless.

Mihawk was beginning to like this kid.

But did that mean he wanted to raise the baby himself? He was undependable, impatient, selfish. A rather bad combination for a guardian.

"Oh, no."

Mihawk turned his attention back towards his friend. "What?"

"You can't be freaking serious.

"What?"

"I can't believe you."

"What?" he snapped.

"You're thinking of keeping the brat."

Mihawk scowled at the redhead. "Why the hell do you think that?"

Shanks rolled his eyes. He ignored the grumbling baby as he switched him awkwardly to his hip. "Seriously? You may not think it, but we can read each other, Hawkie. You're looking at the brat differently." Shanks sniffed at the kid, who was still leaning away with his nose scrunched. "He's just a brat. Go drop him off at a church or something. I'm sure he'll make a few nuns happy." Zoro, as if he knew he was being talked about, jabbed his fingers into Shanks's open throat and insulted the redhead – well, as much as baby gibberish could insult.

Mihawk blinked. Why hadn't he thought of that? Everyone knew you could leave an unwanted or unplanned child at a hospital or church, no questions asked. He could be on his way in a couple minutes and be rid of this nuisance in several hours. He opened his mouth to agree (for once) with Shanks, but nothing came out. What the hell?

For some reason, Mihawk felt reluctant, which shocked him more than anything. He actually wanted to keep the kid? What was wrong with him? He looked at the green-haired brat, who was having a poking war with the redheaded idiot. Zoro had surprised him a few times – making eye contact, enthused when he saw a dagger, his disliking of Shanks – but had that really been enough for him to like the baby? Damn, he didn't like anyone. For some unknown reason, he tolerated Shanks, even though the moron dragged him into more messy situations than he could count. He preferred silence, thick and heavy, as his companion, but rarely was gifted it.

"You little fu–"

In a flash, Mihawk went over and plucked Zoro from the irritated Shanks, who had been a hair's breath away from dropping the child on purpose. There were pink spots around his neck and collar, no doubt from Zoro's tiny fingers. Zoro had let out a small gasp, not another shriek, but didn't fight back and allowed Mihawk to place him on his shoulder. "So, Roronoa," the man looked at Zoro evenly, equally, "how would you like to stay here?"

Zoro nodded while Shanks stuttered. "W-what? You, Dracule Mihawk, actually want to adopt this brat?"

The green-haired baby turned his head in a snap to the redhead. He pointed his finger at him and scowled. Mihawk nodded. "I know, he's an idiot. He comes around here begging for scraps every now and then, so you'll be seeing more of him, sadly."

"H-hey!"

Mihawk ignored the outburst. "Welcome to my house, Zoro."

-OoO-

"You're really going to go through with this?"

Zoro was back in his basket, sleeping, and Shanks had grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Mihawk was too use to Shanks making himself comfortable at his house to comment anything; he merely held out his glass and waited as Shanks sloppily poured. "With what?" He undoubtedly knew what his friend meant, but it was never too late to test his stupidity.

Shanks, after a large gulp, gave Mihawk an "are-you-an-idiot" look. "With Zoro. You're actually going to raise him?"

"Yes."

Shanks sighed. "You sure you're not the reckless one?" He swished the whiskey in his glass, as if he was sulking. "You suck, Hawk."

"I don't understand why you're upset." Mihawk drained half his glass. He raised a slick eyebrow, lifting his glass for another swallow. "It's not as if you're going to raise the child."

Shanks puffed out his cheeks. "Yeah, but now you're a daddy."

Mihawk choked. He slammed his drink down, very nearly shattering the fragile glass, as he shot daggers at the redhead's bizarre, ridiculous statement. "W-what the hell is wrong with you, Redhair?"

"Me?" Shanks demanded. He jumped to his feet and pointedly crossly at the basket on the other side of the kitchen. "You just took in a brat and there's something wrong with me?"

"Relax," Mihawk ordered, already back to his composed self.

Shanks studied him. "You reacted pretty strongly, Hawkie…" he moronically stroked a beard that didn't exist. "Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "Was it the daddy comment?" Mihawk paled and Shanks smirked. "Oooh," he sang, "you never considered that you'd be a father, eh? How slow of you, Hawk."

Mihawk scowled. "Shut up." He frowned when he realized his glass was empty. "More whiskey."

Shanks rolled his eyes, but complied. "You know, you need to get baby stuff."

"Obviously."

"Well…where do you get it all?"

"That's where you come in, you idiot."

"Me?" Shanks sat back down, crossing his legs as his lips thinned with confusion. "What am I supposed to do?"

"That woman," Mihawk pointed out tolerantly. "You said she had kids. Call her and ask where she gets her items."

"Who?"

Mihawk massaged the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Makino." Sometimes he wondered for his friend's stability, but then that would make him question his own considering he allowed the redhead in his company far too often.

"Oh!" A loud slurp of whiskey, followed by a hiccup. "I can do that for you."

-OoO-

Thanks for reading! Until next time.

-Sanfina.